Adult-FanFiction.org : YuYu Hakusho

Eye of the Beholder	By : KyoHana Category: Yuyu Hakusho > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 3538 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own YuYu Hakusho, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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(One month and two days later)

Kazuya Hatanaka was not a particularly happy man. His business had taken far longer than he�d anticipated and he was bone weary. Yet there remained 25 miles of additional travel, �And all of it on horseback,� he grimaced, before he reached the tiny cottage that was to be his home for somewhat longer than he would have desired.

The journey had been neither as productive nor as fruitful as he had anticipated upon receiving the letter that had informed him of the survival of two of the three ships thought to have been lost at sea. Though both still contained a goodly variety of merchandise (and all of it in relatively satisfactory condition, all things considered) for trade or sale, it had been clearly less than Hatanaka had expected due to the necessity of both captains having to trade some of those same goods for repairs to their ships so that they could make the return voyage home.

Added to that was the somewhat less-than-favorable return on his investment that Hatanaka had been given when he�d negotiated for the sale of the remaining merchandise. It seemed, along with his worldly goods, his stature amongst not only the peerage but the merchant guild as well had been considerably depleted. And there was, of course, the fact that he�d had not only to pay both crews, but also to re-outfit at least one of the ships so that another voyage could be made.

Needless to say, all of these events combined had considerably reduced what profit Hatanaka had been able to procure from the sale of the remaining goods, leaving the former nobleman little better off financially than when he�d arrived in the city.

And, as if the past month had not been trying enough, the weather, which had been pleasant and warm when he�d set out to return to his home, had turned decidedly foul. The previously blue sky had become overcast. The formerly white clouds were now a dull, slate grey, and the temperature had dropped significantly, chilling him to the bone as Hatanaka huddled deeper into his cloak. A heavy, misting rain had also begun to fall.

With the rain and the decrease in temperature, a ground fog swelled from the previously warm earth and penetrated the forest through which he now traveled, making it all but impossible for the former nobleman to keep any sense of direction. Wet, cold, and thoroughly miserable, Hatanaka urged his mount forward, hoping that he was still heading in the right direction and had not somehow gotten turned around in the damnable fog.

Just as he was about to give up all hope of finding his way home and settle instead for simply finding shelter from the miserable weather, the rain abruptly ceased and the clouds parted to reveal late afternoon sunlight filtering through the canopy of trees overhead. The fog, too, quickly receded, and Hatanaka urged his mount forward with confidence once more. It would be nightfall, he surmised, looking up at the sky, before he reached the cottage, but at least he would be home. With a heavy sigh at this less-than-pleasurable thought, the noble gentleman continued his journey.

It was not until sometime later, with the sun sinking slowly towards the horizon and horse and rider had come upon a high, stone wall they had not encountered on their way to the city, that Hatanaka realized he was, indeed, traveling in the wrong direction. He was just about to turn the mare around and head back in the direction from which he�d come when a flash of green and red caught his eye. It was a rose bush, run to riot over the wall: the leaves of which were a brilliant emerald, and the blossoms themselves the very same deep crimson as his stepson�s long, silky red hair.

This thought jolted Hatanaka into remembrance. The night before he�d begun his now accursed journey, he and his sons had talked long into the night about the letter he�d received and what it could possibly portend for their current, and future, circumstances. The conversation ended with the former nobleman�s query to each of his sons as to what gift they should like him to bring them upon his return.

Shuuichi-kun had immediately seized upon this opportunity and requested his own crossbow as presently, he was forced to use one of Yusuke�s when they hunted. Hatanaka readily acquiesced to the young boy�s request before he�d turned his attention to the older of his two sons. Kurama appeared to have been deep in thought, and his stepfather had had to call to him and repeat his question.

When he�d finally looked up and fixed his attention to the older man, Kurama smiled wistfully. �Forgive me, Stepfather,� he quietly replied, �I was just thinking about Mother�s roses.�

Shiori�s rose garden had been the envy of many of the other nobles� wives; though it was her son who had diligently cultivated and cared for the flowers. Again, that fleeting wistful smile crossed the boy�s handsome features. �It would be nice to have a small garden here to remember her by, don�t you think?� Without waiting for an answer, Kurama continued. �That small plot of ground beneath the window would be perfect, I think. So, I�d like to have a cutting from a rose bush, if you please, Sir. The flower vendor in the city should be able to provide you with one at a fair price.�

The memory of that conversation jolted Kazuya into another, more immediate thought. In his haste to leave the city that morning, he�d completely forgotten to visit the flower vendor to purchase the cutting his stepson had requested. As he continued to stare at the lovely roses adorning the bush, though, another thought occurred to him: he would take Kurama one of those roses. It would not be precisely what the boy had asked for, but at least he�d have the flower to enjoy for a time.

Hatanaka gently touched his boots to his horse�s flanks, urging the mount forward and parallel to both the wall and the bush. Once he was close enough to the overgrowth to touch it, he pulled back on the reins to halt the mare. Obediently, she stopped, and Kazuya reached down to pull a small dagger from the inside of his boot. Blue eyes the color of sapphires carefully scanned the bush before settling upon one of the blooms. This one, a deeper crimson than the others on the bush, was in that perfect moment between bud and full blossom, and Hatanaka gave a nod of satisfaction. Kurama, he thought, would certainly appreciate the flawless beauty of this particular bloom.

Leaning slightly to the side, Hatanaka grasped the bloom with one hand while the one holding the dagger began cutting the stem from the bush. No sooner had he finished his task and begun to re-sheath his dagger beneath the lip of his boot then the former nobleman was hit by what he thought was a rush of wind that knocked him from the saddle, the rose he held in one hand and the dagger in another flying out of those hands as he roughly hit the ground below. But that couldn�t be! Wind had no physical form that he knew, yet he�d clearly felt the blow to his chest that had thrown him from his mount; could feel the hand that was now fisted in his cloak and the cold steel of a blade pressed against the tender flesh of his neck.

Slowly Hatanaka raised his gaze, trying to discern the shadow that stood over him. The being, whoever or whatever it may be, was clad from head to foot in a dark cloak, the hood of which was pulled so far forward, all the man could distinguish within were two burning red eyes. And though seemingly small in stature, the being was without a doubt, quite powerful. Hatanaka opened his mouth to protest his abusive treatment at the shadowed figure�s hands but snapped it shut as a deep, angry voice issued from within the dark recesses of that hooded cloak.

�Thief!� the voice hissed, the hand fisting Hatanaka�s cloak tightening and the blade pressing further into his neck. �Trespasser! How DARE you defile my garden!�

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Eye of the Beholder