The room is silent but for the soft sounds of weeping, of tiny stones falling to the floor, and the cold mechanical beeps of a life being measured. In the single bed lies a severely damaged form, the blood staining the bandages almost the same shade as that glorious fall of hair. Hiei stands in stoic silence looking out the window, garnet eyes filled with dark emotion. Aislin is in a chair next to the bed, head rested on folded arms beside one still hand with her shoulders shaking in her grief. It is her tear-gems that chime against the hard floor and collect in the circle of her arms.

Kurama doesn't hear them. He can't hear anything right now, hasn't heard anything since the end of the surprise battle with a demon that shouldn't have been there. But it had been, had been lying in ambush right next to the greenhouse of Meiou High for the fox distracted by thoughts of new plants being created in that structure of shining glass. He'd been staying late after school for several days, carefully coaxing several types of rose into melding into a new kind he'd been planning to give to Aislin for her approaching birthday. He hadn't sensed the powerful demon until it had already gashed his chest with envenomed talons.

The fight had been brief but incredibly fierce and in the end Kurama had been the one still alive. But now that life still hangs in balance. He'd been unconscious when the two smaller apparitions had arrived; Aislin had been working on reports for Koenma in the Spirit World, Hiei had been chasing criminals in the Demon World. Both had abandoned those tasks the second they had felt Kurama's pain sear through their soul-link.

Now they wait, the others in another part of Koenma's castle to give these two mourners privacy. Kurama may not be gone yet--but he is perilously close.

Abruptly Aislin stands and whirls, heading for the door on booted feet quieter than any cat's. Hiei watches her go in the window's reflective surface, the room darker than the wet night beyond. No one stops her as she escapes to the outside and is struck by the uncaring rain. She'd seen Kurama die once as Yoko...the gods help everything if Kurama follows in his last life's footsteps.

She raises her face into the falling drops as an uncanny mood takes hold in the rain and the moonlight peeking around the leading edge of the clouds. Above her, another face looks into the reflection of the window with eyes wide in startlement.

What's going on? Kurama wonders to himself, breaking his gaze away from the glass to stare down at hands gone translucent, tipped with moon-colored talons. The last thing I remember is falling to the ground. So why am I standing? His gaze returns to the 'mirror' window and take in the changes to his appearance. Silver is streaked through the familiar crimson, the 'spike' having fallen away from all but his bangs which now sweep over emerald flecked with amber-gold. Ears colored a curious rose-silver sprout from the top of his head to swivel over his mortally round ones--but he still can't hear anything. A quick glance behind reveals that yes, his tail has joined his ears in the revolt and now sweeps lazily behind him.

The spirit looks back to the glass and into a face he hasn't seen for centuries. No one here knows and he's never felt like telling them, but he looks now as he did at the demon age of twenty--when he was just starting to grow out of his kit-fur and into the sleeker coat of adolescence. No; the Silver Thief had not always been silver. Once, long ago, he had been a thing of living jewels. Jewels...the glimmer of pale light on precious stones draws his attention as surely as it would any other ex-thief, and he finds himself as he had last seen in a real mirror lying cold and quietly bleeding on a white bed. What's going on? He wonders to himself again, seeing the tear-gems scattered on blanket and floor. Hiei hasn't been crying, so that could only mean Aislin. Where is she?

Something pulls him to the window, past the unseeing fire apparition standing vigil there and through the thin glass, out into the air above an angel come to earth.

Once again Kurama is struck by her beauty--that which had attracted him to her in the first place. All of the Makai had known of the deadly Whiteout and her skills at thievery, but rumors had spoken of a fragile-seeming slip of a koorime with eyes the color of a tropical sea and a face that would put the very goddesses to shame. He hadn't been seeking a prize the night they'd met...at least, nothing made of stone or metal. He'd wanted to see if the rumors had been true: he'd found them to be vastly understated and hadn't been able to tear himself away from her luminescent side since.

The Whiteout had stolen something none other had been able to even see...his heart. Trite, Kurama thinks to himself wryly, but entirely accurate.

She shines now, gleaming with the sheen of rain beneath the light of the moon still peeking ahead of the clouds and bathing everything in an unearthly glow. The snowy koorime takes that light into herself and reflects it, the air swirling slowly around her filled with a platinum mist and sparkling raindrops.

Those heavenly eyes stay closed as Kurama drifts closer, drinking in her beauty as the finest wine, but her voice startles him when she speaks. It's the first thing he's heard since he 'woke up'.

"You promised me 'forever'," she whispers unhappily to what she thinks is an empty sky. Kurama tries to speak himself, but nothing comes out but his thought, I know.

"You said this time you'd stay."

I am. He doesn't see Botan or any of the other ferry-girls, hence he must still be alive. And he intends to stay that way.

"'No more broken promises'."

That's right, Kurama agrees steadily, drifting to wrap ghostly arms around her shoulders. That beautiful head bows as she chokes out, "Please don't leave this way."

I'm not, he reassures her. He sees tears, their trails shining silver compared to the mere reflected gleam of the rain, streak down her face to land in silence as dark stones. She tilts her face back up into the shower from above and takes a deep breath.

"Now my tears keep falling."

They glitter.

"And mingle with the rain."

Soft rain.

"Can you hear me talking?" she demands quietly.

Of course. At the moment, it's the only thing he can hear.

"Can you see my pain?" Her fists clench at her sides but she remains standing there.

Too well, he thinks sadly. He hates causing her grief, but for some reason it seems to be the thing he's best at--hurting the ones he loves. Aislin, his mother, Hiei. The woman in his arms seems to take heart from his intangible touch, for her face fills with resolve and she turns back to the palace with steady strides.

"Let the world keep spinning," she says firmly, walking through the door and up the nearest steps. Kurama trails after, mildly confused. Something has attached a tiny golden thread to his wrist and it's pulling him in the direction his ice-flower goes.

Why stop it? he queries as he drifts past her. The pull is stronger now.

"Let Life keep going on."

It goes, he calls back to her as he's reeled down the hallway to the hospital wing. Her eyes flash with determination and her strides pick up a bit of speed.

"I'll just keep waiting for you."

I'm coming!

"As surely as the dawn."

Hiei turns as the scent of cool vanilla and lilies fills his nose, with another of roses and pine growing stronger with every heartbeat. For a brief second a smile replaces the worried frown carved deeply into his face. Yukina always has that effect on him. The petite, sweet-natured koorime stands next to the bed, her tiny hands resting on the bandages above Kurama's heart. The bloodstains are vanishing before Hiei's eyes like reversed video and the muscular chest rises and falls with deeper breaths.

The crimson eyes widen at the sight of a different Kurama phasing through the door towards the bed. The new one is translucent, mixing both human and fox in equal doses, smiling with confidence as it goes. That smile is aimed at Hiei for a brief second before the specter fades from sight just as it reaches the bed. An especially deep breath--those scarlet lashes part to reveal cloudy emeralds that clear as the doorknob turns.

For a moment, the world contains only a silent watcher, a statue, and a light-bringer, as Aislin freezes in the doorway at the sight of her beloved smiling around a serene Yukina. With an effort, Kurama props himself onto his elbows and grins weakly at the stunned--but incredibly relieved--Aislin. In a voice rough from yelling he croaks in agreement, "As surely as the dawn."