Title: Blessed

Author: Eeevee

Genre: General/Spiritual -- haha, my first spiritual one O.o

Rating: K

Disclaimer: None of it is mine.

An old lady slowly picked her way down the cemetery lane. She walked with confidence rather than the usual shaky bob that the usual visitors seemed to possess. Despite the fact that she had a solid wood cane to lean on, she used it mostly to knock dead flowers out of her way, complaining how people should bother to clean up what they put down. Clutched in her bony hand was not flowers like one would expect, but a small container. Whatever was in it most certainly wasn't some brand of margarine that had not been made for the last twenty years.

She paused, enjoying the sunlight that filtered through the cloudy autumn day. A tiny strand of the coming cold front played with her long, free white hair, blowing it into slightly runny brown eyes.

Giving a pat here and there, like one might do to a pet dog, she made her way to the far side of the gravestones. However, she paused, as if decided what to do.

There was another visitor. Once she recognized immediately, for he had not aged much at all since the last meeting, but wasn't sure she wanted to meet. What was there to say? The visitor could very easily read the headstone without needing her intrusion to whatever closure he need.

Cautiously she eased her creaky, thin body down on a flat, marble headstone. She was sure that whoever was laid to rest below her wouldn't mind her borrowing his headstone, old as she was.

The carefully cared for grass tickled her wrinkled feet as she swung them gently and observed the visitor carefully. He had his back to her, as if he was in his own little world, rather than some dinky plot of burial land. Every so often he'd move his head, but other than that he stood with uncanny stillness.

"You dumb oaf."

She covered her mouth as a surprised cough fought her clamped lips. She couldn't laugh very easy anymore, so coughing seemed to be as close as her old body could manage.

The visitor continued in a low, serious voice, "I made you a promise, did I not? Yet, I come back to see that you have not kept your end. Obviously, I wrongly assumed that you were a man of your word."

When the tombstone didn't reply to his accusations, he continued, "I believe you had a happy life… But you did not know who secretly watched you. Who covered an infatuation with a cynical front and cold criticism."

The old lady raised an eyebrow in mild interest.

"Well, I have upheld my promise, even if you have not." Something fluttered to the ground and lay on the grave. The edges rippled and twisted against the slight, cold breeze that winded through the small cemetery. "So, I suppose that humans do strange things, yet I do not feel that you deserve to hear of how I have spent my time in my absence."

The visitor took a few, agitated paces.

Suddenly he was beside the old lady.

"Who are you?" He demanded harshly, "And why were you spying on me?"

"Spying? This is a public place. I should ask you what you were doing at that particular grave, not the other way around." She snapped back boldly, undaunted.

"I…" He stubbornly clamped his mouth shut and gave her a nasty, dark look, "It is not any of your business."

"Probably wouldn't even want to know, now would I? Especially since you disappeared so long ago without a word or another visit. You didn't even bother to come to the wedding… don't you look at me like that. Yes, I knew who she was to you. The question is: what was he?"

Instead of waiting for an answer she was sure wasn't forthcoming, she simply continued on.

"Humans are funny things, aren't they? We grow from irresponsible children to semi-responsible adults only to have more irresponsible children. It seems from there our short lives are realized and we scrambled desperately to lead a good life and achieve ultimate happiness. Go the speed limit, make sure to attend the flute solo in the concert that conflicted with the Super Bowl, and go to a job day-to-day for a solid forty years and then retire. By then you can't enjoy yourself. You can't because time has caught up with you, slowing your reflexes and stopping your joints. Even if you had come back earlier, what would you have expected?"

He stared at her, as if it never even occurred to her that the person he had come to see would change over time.

"You haven't aged in the slightest, have you? Oh, you look slightly more mature, but I'd still say you're pushing mid-twenty."

He stared at her in bewilderment, "Who are you?"

"Me? I'm nobody important. Just an old lady coming to pay her respects to the dead." She said, slightly teasing. When he glared she added gently, "Kuwabara Shizuru."

The shock on the demon's face was indescribable. He stared with wide eyes, taking in her wrinkled, wispy form. His crimson gaze slid down her entire form then sought her face for the truth. Not liking what he saw, he turned away in defeat.

"How long?"

"Oh, Kazuma died nearly fifteen years ago. We women usually tend to live longer, so even though he was my Baby Bro, I'm still here and he's not." Shizuru explained, "But surely you know… know that things had to change since you've been under Mukuro's service?"

"Kurama?" Somehow the fire demon sensed she would know everything he desired, despite the fact that she had always been on the fringes during the fights and the adventures.

"He's still alive. He's in much the same condition I am, I'm afraid. I'm assuming the Youko in him is lending him extra energy. His wife and only child have both passed away, leaving him alone, again. Keiko's been dead for five years now." Shizuru paused, "Yukina is alive, if you wish to see her and your nieces. They live in Genkai's shrine."

There was a long pause.

"You might want to see her. She took Kazuma's death much harder than I did. Much like you, she forgot the differences between humans and demons." Shizuru paused, "In a way, I think you were blessed… blessed not to see the one you loved grow old and feeble."

"Hn."

It took only an instant for Shizuru to be alone again. She smiled and picked herself up, ignoring her body's protest at the movement. Clutching the container, she curiously went down to the grave. Aside from the usual tokens that were left there by Kurama and Yukina and her godchildren, there was a strip of paper. It was torn and rough. The wind had picked up and threatened to carry the slip of paper away with it.

Shizuru bent down and placed her container on the fluttering paper, fighting the urge to open and read the contents.

"I'll be back next week Baby Bro, just like always, so wait for me, okay?"

A/N: J, J, J. You really should make some rules before I drive you batty. But leaving things vague is my style, remember? Although I will admit that Loveless was extremely cruel, even for me.