Yusuke stood next to Kuwabara under the umbrella, neither of them really caring that it was situated somewhere in the middle, half soaking both of them. The taller man trembled every now and then, but the way he sniffled made it clear it wasn't from cold. Yusuke's eyes were dry of tears, but their light was cold and angry.
"M-maybe he'll come back," Kuwabara croaked suddenly. "Like before. Like he said he did when that hunter got him."
"Maybe," murmured Yusuke, not voicing the thought they shared. Kurama wouldn't be so lucky twice. No...They wouldn't be so lucky. Even if he could, their fox wouldn't want to put himself through the same thing again, not unless he could do the impossible and be reborn to Shiori.
Groups of drearily dressed mourners gathered in the grass and on the sidewalk, waiting for the services to start. Yusuke clenched his teeth, scowling at normally giggling fangirls who were now carrying on tearfully about how well they knew him and how loved he was. None of you knew him! he wanted to shout. Not a single one of you...You never had any idea who your perfect idol really was. You never saw the real perfection. You never saw his heart.
He swallowed the weights in his throat, sending them to lodge in his chest. Nothing Genkai had ever tied to him had been so heavy. Nothing she had put him through had been so painful. Physical pain was something that could be forced through stubbornly, knowing it would go away, knowing that at the end of the day, everything would be okay. No demon's claws had ever raked his skin with the furor that now clawed at his insides.
He'd felt despair before, of course. The closest he had come was when he thought Kuwabara was dead. But this time, there was no battle for the world to distract him and help keep him numb a little longer. This time, there was absolutely no doubt that a friend was gone. One stupid, selfish, human driver who thought it was okay to push the speed limit had done what very few skilled demon fighters had ever even come close to achieving.
"Why?" a broken voice forced out. He vaguely wondered who had said it, and it wasn't until Kuwabara answered that he realized it came from him.
"I don't know...Botan told me even Koenma had no idea. It was just one of those things..."
Yusuke nodded absently, noticing how Kuwabara's trembling seemed to have subsided, only to move to him. His friend put a steadying arm around his shoulders, leading him inside. Yusuke turned his head slightly before they went in, seeing something in the trees, and met Hiei's gaze with a jolt. There was nothing in the little fire demon's eyes but raw grief. No arrogance. No wall to hide behind. Just heartbreak at the loss of his best friend.
When they stepped into the warm room, his eyes automatically went to Shiori's frail form, the woman leaning on her husband for much-needed support. Even with red, swollen eyes, the brave mother managed to look elegant and poised. Perhaps Kurama's grace wasn't solely from Youko's spirit after all. Hatanaka's face was steady but drawn, and the younger Shuuichi seemed dazed.
Yusuke was glad it was just the service for friends and acquaintances, and not the actual funeral. He didn't think he could bear the sight of a coffin, knowing who's bruised, broken shell lay inside. He shouldn't be buried in a box under human soil.
"His spirit is too wild for this pathetic human wind," murmured a husky voice at his elbow, Hiei voicing Yusuke's thoughts. "We should speak to his mother later, when she's had time to grieve but before she makes arrangements."
Yusuke managed a watery smile. "At least he'd already told her..."
Hiei tilted his head in acknowledgment, flicking his gaze over the mire of humans. "...He never even screamed."
"What?"
"We were talking when he...When it happened. Mentally. He pulled out on a curve; never saw it coming."
The three of them stood in silence for a moment before Yusuke spoke hoarsely. "At the risk of sounding sappy and all...I love you guys."
Hiei nodded. Kuwabara murmured agreement. "I wish...I just wish we'd told him, too..."
"He knew," whispered Hiei. "He knew."
"But still."
"Yeah."
Jessica F., a senior in high school, died on October 14, 2007. She was killed while pulling out on the highway, misjudging because the oncoming truck was speeding. Jessica was one of those rare people who, while pretty and talented, never failed to smile or offer help and kindness to everyone.
One brief moment can change everything.
Please, drive carefully, and never be ashamed to say "I love you."