Private Tales Flowers are the Stars of the Earth

[Hiei]

Like polished jet, Hanae's eyes reflected Hiei's own cold stare. He saw how harshly he looked at her. How pointed his gaze had been. He blinked first, and felt the corners of his eyes slacken by hair's margin as he leaned back, as if a wolf who had thought the game too dangerous.

Hanae spoke. Painted a picture of her ripping into Hiei with her teeth, as if some creature of the night. "Preposterous," Hiei muttered to himself as he turned away in a huff, his eyes narrowed once more, and his cheeks curiously reddened. He quietly stormed off into a back room.

Kishi's teeth poked out from under his upturned lips. "Well..." he trailed off in a low smoke-laden rumble.

The sound of running water could be heard, a slosh and the glug and the underlaying push of air as the container filled. The water stopped, and Hiei came back. His cheeks still dusted pink, a bucket of water and a clean rag there in one hand. He stopped in front of Hanae, and put the bucket at her feet. The wooden ring at its base knocked like a drum, the ripples in the bucket pulsed out and bounced against the wooden walls.

Hiei bent down into a squat, grabbing a little stool that had been at arms lenght near one of the taller medicine cabinets. "Here," he said softly as he put the stool behind her. "I can clean it off for you," he kept his eyes low.

Hanae

 

[Hanae]

Hanae giggled to herself as it seemed Hiei was offended about her joke of him being eaten. Perhaps he disliked vampires? Or maybe it was silly for how small Hanae was. She did bring her gaze over to Kishi as a single word rumbled out with that periwinkle smoke. It was quite a pretty color, she couldn’t help wonder what it was. And her previous question— the sort one should never ask a dragonkin— was still in her head. Of course, it faded from the forefront the moment Hiei was back in the room, carrying a bucket.

Obsidian eyes lit up in delight, and without hesitation, she took her seat on the stool. Hanae folded her hands in her lap, and looked over at Hiei with a appreciative smile. She then noticed the rag in his hand— it was a dark blue, not white. Her eyes widened a bit. Had he done that on purpose so she wouldn’t see any of the blood? Eyes flickering back to Hiei, to his brusque tone when they first met, she wasn’t sure if he was so thoughtful.

From her experience, all men, except for her father, seemed to never take careful consideration of others from a passing comment.

With a playful twinkle in her eye, Hanae leaned forward, joyful gratitude fading into a teasing look. “So tell me,” she whispered to Hiei, “are you always much nicer when Kishi is around? Or are you nervous that I may actually bite you?” She smiled, showcasing her white teeth. Her bottom two front teeth were slightly crooked, one slightly over the other. And then, because while she did enjoy teasing Hiei and he most definitely deserved a little bit of her revenge, he was doing her a favor.

“Luckily for you, I’m not a vampire. Or a ghoul. Or a cannibal. Although if I was, I’d probably go after someone with softer meat.” Hanae said as her eyes smiled for her while she closed her mouth, leaning her neck out so Hiei could move her head however he liked.

Hiei

 

[Hiei]

As soon as she had begun to move toward the seat, Hiei began to soak the blue rag in the cool water of the bucket. One of the little cats even came out of its hiding place, and tip toed up to the fresh pool of water to stare at its reflection while Hieie's hand pulled the cloth out, and used both to wring it dry. To hear her voice so hushed. So near to his ear that he could feel the breath on her words tickle his skin. It gave him pause. Made his face feel warm. She pulled his eyes to her as her lips parted and showed her funny teeth. Imperfect. Honest.

Afraid of a bite.

He stared into her eyes. A second too long, but a second where their black pools came to meld into a moment.

"He's usually meaner," Kishi croaked between a pull and a stream, absentmindedly counting coins he kept in a wooden box beneath his front counter. The little disks of precious metals clinking brightly with each push and pull of his long claws.

Hiei huffed, and pulled his eyes away without a word, dunking the just wrung rag back into the water resting with his task. He pulled it back out of the bucket as Hanae made another joke, and wrung it once more. The little black cat started lapping up water from the bucket.

Gently, he raised his left hand up to her chin, and used only the top of a firm finger to help steady her as he readied to clean away the blood. "Its a bit cold," he warned her, and started to work away the grime of dried blood with firm, quick dabs. "How would you know I'm not soft of flesh?" he asked, matter of fact, and bent back down to rinse the dark rag. The little cat short-stepped back, eyes wide and posture low with worry.

Murk billowed from the fibers of the rag, the red-brown clouds swirled larger as his hands worked the cloth clean. The little cat crept forward, and looked down curiously at Hiei's hands, moving beneath the bloodied water.

Hanae

 

[Hanae]

Meaner? Like when they first met? To Hanae it seemed that Hiei was opening up quite a bit then. He had paid for her nose to be healed which meant he must have felt guilty over the ordeal. Perhaps he lacked sensitivity then and wasn’t necessarily a mean person. Or he didn’t realize how harsh his words sounded? One would think he was a general by how he ordered others around to then only deliver a scathing blow.

She was quiet as Hiei cleaned her face, the damp cloth tugging gently at her skin. She wouldn’t have thought that he could firmly keep her head lifted while also cleaning off all the bloody grime, the two movements seemed to contradict one another. Her gaze was mostly on his face as he worked, briefly looking over to the cat but soon enough her gaze was back on Hiei.

“If you were soft like me then I don’t think my nose would have been broken,” Hanae answered, having put little thought in her words, only speaking as he rinsed out the rag. She made sure not to look inside the bucket. “You’re built more like…” her sentence trailed off, her eyes lifting up high as she thought for the right word, “a fighter.” She settled on. “You’re lean at the waist but your shoulders and chest are broad. Like a upside down triangle. And your chest felt like I had just ran straight into a stone wall.” Hanae finished, watching him wring out the rag. She saw the pink droplets.

Pink was fine. It reminded her of pink rose petals. Hanae sighed softly, feeling rather comfortable with Hiei cleaning the blood off her skin. It brought a sense of content within, like when her mother and grandmother had cleaned her face of crumbs when she was younger. It was soothing like when her sister would brush her hair, back when they were teenagers they both had long hair that grazed their hips.

A melancholy smile appeared. She would never have long hair ever again.

“Your hair is so long Hiei, how long have you been growing it out?” She asked, genuine curiosity in her voice and eyes.

Hiei

 

[Hiei]

Hearing someone talk about him. It made him uncomfortable. The attention. He wasn't used to it being so, warm. Friendly. Sincere. It was enough to keep him from correcting her. Letting her know that breaking a person's nose had little to do with how hard the body was, but everything to do with the angle of the impact, and the force behind it. Maybe it was more that he just realized how stupid that would've sounded. How unnecessary. Harsh.

A fighter.

That was certainly a word for what he was. Grown accustomed to cleaning the blood off of his hands, stitching the cuts above his eye in reflection of rough-scuffed mirrors, or tending to one of his crewmates who had gotten it worse. His stomach was a swirl, as she described him, his eyes, set low as Hanae went on talking.

He liked hearing her talk. The sound of her voice, a warm balm against the cold numbness he so often wrapped himself in. Tenderly, he wiped away the last bit of blood from her face as she posed her new question.

"My, hair?" he asked, taken aback.

Kishi stood from his desk, "You two see yourselves out whenever you're uh, finished up," Kishi went on puffing his pipe, a wry curl to his lips and a teasing twinkle in his eye. He made away from the room, getting lost somewhere in the back.

Hiei's eyes came back to Hanae, suddenly alone, with not but cats and Hanae for company, he felt a greater sense of pressure. Vulnerability. His cold demeanor, now with no other target other than Hanae. And she was so close to him now. Her eyes so large and full of a darkness that called to him. Seemed to welcome him in. He passed some spit down his throat. Heard the sound of his muscles squeezing. Felt the heat of his face as the image of her biting into him with crooked teeth flashed back through his mind. His face turned all the redder.

"Five years," he answered plainly, and stood up. "Let me, dispose of this," he bowed his head, and left the room.

A pair of the little cats came out and mewed at Hanae. One, the black coat with large golden eyes, approached her feet, and sniffed at her ankles before rubbing the sides of the

The sound of water spilling out, and running again sounded in the distance.

Hanae

 

[Hanae]

“Bye, Kishi, thank you!” Hanae made sure to call out to the dragonkin, almost about to turn her head to look over her shoulder but made sure to stay still until Hiei had finished the area he was cleaning. When she did look over her shoulder Kishi was long gone but that was fine, and her dark gaze focused solely on Hiei once more. “Five years,” she echoed out. That’s right, five years ago she had cut her own. A hand reached up, as if to slide through Hiei’s hair and see if it felt as soft as it looked glossy, but Hanae refrained from reaching out. Her fingers didn’t shake, staying as still as she was— almost unnatural for a girl so clumsy.

But her hands, more than her feet, she always had the upmost control of her hands and fingers. The only time she felt sure of herself was when she allowed her hands to work. Hanae couldn’t say it was fact, but she was certain she had hands better than a surgeon, after all, plants could wither from an accidental cut just as much as humans did.

Besides, Hiei left shortly after he gave his answer, and Hanae nodded her head. She walked the stern man leave the room, and was about to stand up until two small cats came to her. Hanae grinned in cheerful surprise, and bent over, picking up the small black cat to set on her dainty lap.

“My, my,” she cooed softly, petting the cat in ways all cats demanded to be petted. She used her short fingernails to glide through the short fur on it’s forehead, reaching back behind it’s ears to then scratch it’s chin. Her smile only grew as the cat rubbed it’s cheek against her fingers, its whiskers twitching. “Yes, yes, as you wish.” Hanae said, quite seriously. It was only natural to do as the cat wanted.

When Hiei entered, Hanae would look up— still petting the cat, of course— and beam at him.

“Look, doesn’t this cat look like you? If only it had a serious face then I’d say it would be a perfect match.”

Hiei

 

[Hiei]

Water rippled and bounced within the bucket beneath the metal mouth of the pump, and Hiei looked down as the displaced liquid, clear save for the bit of blood that still billowed and turned, heavier than all the fresh stream captured there within the wooden structure that contained it, and saw himself distorted there upon the bouncing ripples.

Water still flowed from the pump. Spilled over the bucket's edge as he gripped the stone lip of the basin. The look in her eyes as her hand reached out. That delicate hand he had held. She had almost... His hand raised up, hovered about those strands she had almost taken into her grasp. The flash of her bite. The pull of his hair. No no. She was just a flower girl. Clumsy. Bad with numbers. He hurt her business today, and he would help her get it back on track. His hand touched those long locks, gingerly. Ran his own fingers through them.

A comfort. So familiar, yet so far gone.

The water stopped flowing. Hiei saw himself in the small pool of water once it had filled, saw how tenderly he had been combing his hair. Felt his whole face grow hot. His brows scrunched, and he huffed, upset. He let his hand sift free of his hair and let it fall back down to the stone of the basin.

Glowering at the bucket, he grabbed the wooden thing and spilled it over. The slosh of water, violent, near spilled over the basin's walls.

He emerged from the wash room and saw Hanae with the small black cat in her lap, fingers at work pleasing the little master. His brows scrunched, his eyes cold, he walked toward a corner of the room to put the bucket away. She called out to him, and gave a big smile as she pet the black cat.

Stunned. He stopped, and looked at her, and the tiny creature in her lap. It looked so happy, guiding its little head into each of her careful strokes. There was a softness in his eyes. If only for a moment. A warm want.

Hiei caught himself, eyes sharp again. "I don't see it," he admitted coldly, and walked by Hanae, careful not to scare the cat as he let the bucket down by the medicine cabinets. Bent low in his squat, his back to her and the creature, he peered over his shoulder, and spied on her short trimmed hair. On her dainty ear and the curve of her neck. "Why do you think it looks like me?" he asked. Curious and cautious as an alley cat.

From the shop's door, a small brass bell chimed bright its greeting. Footsteps sounded against the floor, announcing bodies that filled in to the room.

Blue eyes hard like arrowheads, snapped to see the new arrivals, and all of Hiei's body grew taught with ready tension.

Hanae

 

[Hanae]

Hanae chuckled at Hiei’s words, it would have been a bigger shock if he had agreed. And the best part was, Hanae knew exactly why the cat reminded her so much of Hiei. Cats were different than dogs, especially with how choosy they tended to be. Sometimes petting was acceptable and sometimes it was not, and from what she had witnessed so far with Hiei is that while there were times when he had been gentle with, there were plenty of times he was harsh with her.

Like a cat who couldn’t decided whether they wanted to be outside or inside.

“There’s something about his eyes,” Hanae began, fully intent on teasing Hiei and drawing out the similarities as much as possible. Her mouth opened, a few words coming out before the bell stopped her. She turned her head to the clamoring footsteps, and the cat that had once been so peaceful and loving in her lap became spooked.

“Ow,” Hanae softly exclaimed, watching the cat search for a hiding space, it’s black tail puffed out. It was low to the ground, it’s ears pulled back close against it’s head. She looked at her hand, the one that had helped in holding the cat steady on her lap, seeing the pink scratches from it’s sharp claws. Hanae stood up from the stool then, turning around to look at who had came to the vet so late in the day. It must have been an emergency.

Hiei

 

[Hiei]

"Well," a dry thin voice cut in from the door. "If it isn't Blue District's little enforcer," a moon skinned man with proud black horns, curling up from the side of his head in two menacing points, stepped through with a long legged swagger, a black handled sword with blood red accents hung lazily at his waist. "And a new face?" The horned man smiled smoothly as he walked right up to Hanae, and bent low, his face inches from hers as he smiled wide. "Hello, little flower, did mean old Hiei get you mixed up into one of his schemes?" he said sweetly. Some excitement seemed to spark in his eye. "Love the hair," he said, hand just about ready to run through her cropped strands.

Hiei rose, his eyes narrow and sharp, his hands balled into tight fists at his side. "Shinobu," the name came like a curse from his lips. "State your business," there was a hard edge to his tone.

"My my, Hiei," Shinobu feigned hurt, and laughed as he straightened back up to meet Hiei's eyes. "Just, delivering a missive," he slipped his hand into his coat, and pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper. A wax seal with a Red Koi swirled about its circular stamp. "For you, oh so angry one," he handed Hiei the slip, Hiei snatched it up, and Shinobu's whole face seemed to spread with a smile like melted butter. "Hiei, when are you going to come work with your mother, hmm?"

A snarl cracked across Hiei's lips, and his whole body trembled.

"Shinobu," Kishi called out, appearing at a door frame. "You usually tell me when you are going to drop by,"

The horned man tittered, and walked past Hiei and Hanae, his fingers twiddling a playful goodbye to the young lady as he glided past her. "Wasn't here to visit you, big man, unfortunate as that is,"

"Well, come on back," Kishi invited him with a welcoming hand, "Got some fine plum wine I'm sure you would love," the dragon-kin looked to Hiei and Hanae, and motioned them to go.

"Oh, I do love a good plum wine,"

"I know, you drank me dry last time,"

The voices grew quieter. "Did I really, my, how rude of me,"

Hiei looked at the paper in his hand, not opening it before he tucked it away. "Are you hungry?" he asked Hanae, flatly as he looked at the door. Voice cool again, only feint hints of the anger that boiled there in a moment before. "I know a good noodle shop we can go to, unless," he looked to Hanae. "Less you would rather get going, I can walk you home,"

Hanae

 

[Hanae]

Hanae didn’t dare speak. Even if she tried to, she wasn’t sure words would be able to come out. Or rather, she was afraid that if she did speak then the wrong words would come out instead. The young woman watched Shinobu, not even flinching away from him as he went to touch her hair. Some people didn’t deserve to be handsome, even Hanae could tell that his looks were deceiving. The accents of red on his sword, the bits and pieces woven throughout his attire. Hanae recognized these features immediately, everyone in Sonshan did, after all, it was taught to children early on how one should spot a gang member.

But there was one thing that frightened Hanae the most. She didn’t know how it could be possible, but whoever Shinobu was, he knew her name. The way he had said ‘little flower’ caused the translucent hairs on the back of her neck to rise, for her mouth to go dry. Perhaps that was the real reason after all that Hanae was still and silent. She hadn’t even realized she had been holding her breath until Kishi stepped inside the room. Her heart swelled as if Kishi were her savior, when in reality… well, in reality, what exactly?

“Huh?” Hanae slowly turned towards Hiei. His title, or whatever it was that Shinobu had called him, popped into her head. She almost spoke it aloud: Blue District’s enforcer. She remembered Hiei’s face, and if she thought he had looked mean before then she was sorely mistaken. Only a beast could twist and contort their face in such a fearsome way— and Hanae had to admit it, that furious face of Hiei’s had made Shinobu’s presence far more serene. Despite that, her stomach had fallen into a deep abyss, so while she should be hungry, she felt far from it. She looked down at her hands, seeing her trembling fingers. Oh, that’s right, Hanae thought rather detached, this is what fear feels like. I had forgotten, how foolish of me.

“Actually,” when Hanae brought her dark eyes back to Hiei, she had a smile on her face. “Would you be willing to get my flower cart with me? I’d like to head home. I…” she trailed off, looking up at the ceiling. “I’m quite particular, you see, I make the best cold noodles in Sonshan. My grandmother taught me how. Family secret. I’ll make you a bowl tonight, it’s only fair.” Hanae looked back to the door where Kishi and Shinobu had gone, and then back to Hiei. “Let’s go.” She said, waving Hiei along, her fingers still trembling.

Hiei

 

[Hiei]

Her cart. "Of course," he said without hesitation. That was the heart of their entire meeting. Seeing her there, before her cart. Red and beautiful. Familiar, yet all so different. Hiei blinked. Had he heard incorrectly, "Grandmas... noodles?" she bid he follow, so he followed in her wake, behind he line of her trace as she wove through the bustle of the evening crowd.

Paper lanterns hung above, crossed the street in rope-string arcs that held the round luminous shapes of blood, bittwersweet, and ochre. Glows soft and warm as the people on the ground moved about with the rush that came with the hours after sundown.

With the coming of twilight came the changing of stalls. Those things of the day, grocers, cabbage carts, rice sellers, fish mongers. They were gone by the cover of night. The carameled smell of sweet potatoes roasting over open flames filled the air, as did the sound of sizzling meats tossed onto the griddle.

People moved all around. Chat. Held hands. Laughed. Brought each other close. Hiei looked to Hanae's hands. How steady they had been. Absently, he rubbed the inside pads of his fingers with his thumb. Felt the pressure and the trace of touch bleeding there.

Hiei made sure to tail close behind Hanae, moving carefully as she slipped and flowed at a steady and sure pace. "Hanae," he called, mulling over the words he chose next. "Are you sure you want to invite me into your home?" Even after all she heard Shinobu say.

Hanae

 

[Hanae]

Hanae’s feet carried her to her cart, wondering why right now it was so easy to move. She hadn’t realized that with Hiei prowling behind her people were actually making way to avoid him rather than her. Regardless, it was nice to not be nudged or pushed or knocked around like paper boat flowing down a river. It wasn’t until Hiei called her name, speaking her name like any had yet to do, that caused Hanae to stop and turn around. That was when she realized that people moved so as to not get too close to Hiei.

Had she missed something from before? Was she really that dense? Was she going to continue being this reckless? There was little she could do now, she supposed. She would need to just keep moving forward.

“I don’t think I’d be much safer in a noodle shop,” Hanae said softly, “after all, what other friend of yours may pay a visit? At least in my home we can have some privacy.” She turned to face Hiei, looking up at him. She looked far braver than she felt with that gentle look of hers. She held out her hand to Hiei, “Walk beside me, Hiei, before someone thinks you’re stalking me.”

Hanae wouldn’t turn away until Hiei took her hand, and when he did, she would tug him to her side, slipping her arm into the crook of his elbow. Soon enough they would leave the bustling streets, going back to the square that Hanae had set up her little mobile shop. It was only then that she would pull her arm from this dangerous man, going to her cart and begin pushing it back to her home. “I don’t live far.” She informed Hiei, glancing over at him.

“Do you like spicy food?”

Hiei

 

[Hiei]

He blinked, not expecting such a plain and simple response. "I suppose you are right," he grumbled, thinking of the rogues gallery of associates and acquaintances that were part of his personal history. "But-" she spoke of privacy. Privacy. His face flushed, cherry blossom, to rose, and he was glad he was lagging behind her.

Till she turned to look at him. His eyes widened, head jerked back and he looked away with a gruff pout. But she just offered more. Not a request. An offer and a reason. He faced her, saw her hand, open and smooth and still. Unwavering. He was struck. Not for the first time today.

He took her hand. He walked beside her. Was surprised again when she pulled him close and their bodies bumped. Arms wrapped together. Like a bow. The thought made him smirk. Smile. It was nice. To leave the hustle of the Red Tower's floor ring. The fire glow of so many lamps slowly bleeding into a cool midnight. He could hear crickets chirping, and the gentle flutter of moths dancing about the glow of those little lamps whose fires did burn.

The cart came into site. Her flowers, mostly gone. Heads hung low, some blooms closed with the warmth of the sun gone for the da. Hanae slipped away and he stood back and watched a moment as she fell into her task.

"I am partial to it," he replied, stepping forward, he picked up one golden narcissus, its proud trumpet, a little bent. He tucked it into the folds of his overcoat, and helped her push the cart. "Are your grandmother's noodles spicy?"

 

[Hanae]

“Very spicy,” Hanae said with a impish grin, looking over at Hiei quite mischievously. “I’ve never had anything spicier. Even mine don’t compare to the way she would make them. But there’s still that intention to burn your tongue and throat while sweating profusely.” Hanae said, pushing her cart alongside Hiei. There was a moment of silence between them and Hanae debated asking him another question. There were plenty of things that she could ask.

“My grandma used to take bird peppers and eat them raw with her meals.” Hanae continued, instead, wanting to keep talking about pleasant things. As she spoke, her eyes and mouth would smile together, her gaze sparkling like the stars above them. “I tried to copy her one time, and my lips blistered up. For three days my lips were chapped and red as if I hadn’t drank water for a whole month! And oh, my tongue, it was so swollen.” She laughed at the memory and shook her head.

“Every now and then, I try to eat a bird pepper raw like my grandma did. I take the teeniest, tiniest bite. I can hardly chew it. It makes me cry every single time, no matter what I try to do afterwards.” She finished with a giggle. Their steady pace brought them to Hanae’s home soon enough. It was dark, as it should have been, seeing as Hanae was only arriving home now.

Despite the home not being grand, it was a bit more secluded, with a decent plot of land surrounding it. A strong wooden fence marked what land belonged to Hanae. Of course, it was easy to see what did belong to Hanae. Every inch of that wooden wall was covered in blooming vines and the house itself was also covered in green foliage and vines as well. At every meter or so, a large jasmine bush could be found, the smell of the small white flowers intense and intoxicating.

Hanae opened the gate, it was unlocked as usual. She pushed the cart through, and inside the gate the gardens came to life, even under the silver moonlight. Hanae knew every inch of her room, even down to the loose pebble. Pushing her cart next to the green house, she walked past a multitude of little gardens. Some were strictly for vegetables or tea, but many of them were for plants of all sorts. She motioned for Hiei to follow her inside.

The smell of the garden still permeated inside her home, and as she opened the door, the moon revealed a simple hallway. Before shutting the door completely, Hanae lit a small candle on a alcove near the door. With the small light illuminating the small hallway, she shut the door and then led Hiei to her kitchen.

Despite inviting a stranger, and a dangerous stranger at that, into her home, there was a eerie calm about Hanae. Perhaps there was that undeniable comfort one got in their own home. Maybe it was something else. Regardless, entering the much larger kitchen, Hanae began to light everything that there was to light. The open-fireplace in the center, and other little candles and lanterns. Soon enough, the room was brightly lit with controlled flame, the wood that was once cold seemingly warming up rather quickly under the orange light.

“Make yourself comfortable, Hiei, sit down.” Hanae offered. “Do you want a glass of black sesame milk? Or tea? Water?”

Hiei

 

[Hiei]

"Very spicy," Hiei parroted, surprise feigned on his voice, sweetly curious in the tease of it. He fell quiet and listened as they walked. The roll of the wooden cart wheel, a gentle click clack against the stones of the road and the mix of cricket song and lamp-fly wings.

Silence between them. Thick. A mix of warm and cold. A swirl that could take to either current. When Hanae spoke, he smiled, soft, stealing a look at her eyes as they sparkled brilliant, mirrors that took all the light of the world around them and made it shine all the brighter and more beautiful. Her smile, a thing that melted him with its warmth, his insides a flutter and stir. He laughed, a single and small sound, but a laugh.

Should've known better, he was ready to say. But he wanted to keep hearing her tell her stories. His mind pictured her, a small child taking a bight out of the bright pepper, so shaped like a long hooked beak. The red swell that inflamed the face. He smirked as she laughed, and nod as she shared her dedication. Her little tribulation.

"You have heart, Hanae," he found himself saying as he looked down at the plants her cart still carried. Labors all, however small. Things she cared for and made ready. He realized how cheesy that had sounded. How old fashioned. Heart? Who in the hells talked about heart?!

Maybe she didn't hear him.

Frightfully, he glanced at her through the corner of his eye. His face a stiff mask. Good. She was still walking. Still smiling. She probably had not heard it.

He had smelled the house before he saw it. It was a smell that pulled his mind out of their shared moment. His eyes wide as scenes from the past poured through the darkness of his mind. White flowers. A smell that lingered in the back of the nose, sweet as honey, bright as ripe berries, a smell that smoothed its way into you. Filled the whole body before it bit into you. He smelled iron too. Saw the red spill as the cobalt plumes sprouted from pierced flesh.

The feeling of the bow-string pulled tight against his fingers. The gleam of the arrowhead just beneath the sight of his eye.

It froze him, and he stood statue still as Hanae opened the gate and invited him in.

Stunned, he took in a deep breath, and followed her in. Each corner he turned unearthed another scene. He had been here before. Meetings. Conversations over tea. Always in the back. Watching. Both men always smiled. Both knew they were but dogs that served their masters. But Old Hirawa was a demon. It didn't matter if family and old age had dulled his horns. The way they all sat around. Swords at their hips. Handles well in reach.

Ayaka had looked ready. Looked like she knew exactly what type of tea they would all be having.

Sankan, fox that he was, never flinched when the steel came drawn.

“Make yourself comfortable, Hiei, sit down.” Hanae's voice came across the room. He had just been standing there, and the room was lit by fire's warm glow.

Lost between daze and a dream, Hiei managed to take a seat. His heart pounding in his throat. He gulped, and looked down at his hands, fingers splayed wide and open. They trembled.

"Do you want a glass of black sesame milk? Or tea? Water?”

He. He needed to go. "Water is," no. "Hanae, I-" he needed to go. Needed to make sure. Did old Hirawa have a second daughter? No. No, there was no second daughter. He just... remembered the smell of jasmines. "I just remembered something," he said flatly. "I was supposed to meet up with some of my associates," he felt the message slipped under his robe. Felt the guilt eat away at his chest. Pang with each beat of his twisted heart. "I can meet you tomorrow at your cart?"

Miserable.

Hanae

 

[Hanae]

Hanae’s petite head came up from where she had been looking for the pitcher of water. Her eyes were wide with surprise, but something else flashed through them briefly.

Despite all of Hiei’s inward thoughts and bundle of emotions, his face was unflappable. And Hanae, despite the empathy that had been nurtured in her, could only read so much. There was a twinge of doubt that prodded at her stomach, making her wonder why Hiei needed to leave so suddenly. What was it that caused it?

His jumble of words, she deduced quickly. Despite not knowing Hiei well, he was a man of few words, but every time he spoke, he spoke with a clear conciseness. Ironically, it reminded her of her father. Perhaps that was why a bit of her felt comfortable around him, despite knowing he partook in dangerous affairs. Or maybe it was because deeper inside her, she was moving out of instinct.

Despite how she looked, Hanae supposed she could be called a survivor of sorts. Better than being called a victim.

“Associates?” Hanae asked, standing up straight and giving Hiei a curious look. She made her way towards the man, standing at her full height with her back incredibly straight. Without asking for permission, and despite knowing how scandalous such a action was, she took his hand and smiled up at him. Her fingers caressed the soft skin at his wrist, but her thumb was firm in gripping Hiei’s hand to hers.

“Of course.” She agreed to his question, but she continued further. “It’s rude of me to expect so much of your time when we’re strangers, isn’t it? Forgive me, Hiei. I took advantage of your kindness today.” The smile was still there as she spoke, but her inquisitive eyes continued to stare straight into Hiei’s, as if she could see through his shadowy eyes. At this moment, she couldn’t, but she persisted on. “You’re so nice to me. I wonder… is it because you like me? Or something else?” Her thumb pressed into his hand, the curve of her nail jabbing into his skin.

Hiei

 

[Hiei]

Hiei looked unto Hanae, his eyes clear and his breath steady as she walked towards him. Elegant with each measured stride.

Why did he think this would be so easy?

She had invited him in. She had invited him in.

Her hand reached out and grabbed his, and he kept his eyes fixed upon hers as all swirled inside him. Steady. Steady. He kept his breathing steady. His heart picked up a beat, but, it was nothing.

Focus on her. Focus on her words. Her actions.

How her thumb swirled around the skin beneath his wrist. How it tickled and tingled and caused his skin to turn to goose flesh in excitement. She never broke her gaze. This... was a test.

Is it because you like me? Or something else.

Her nail pressed down. Bit into skin and veins.

He gulped. "I would be lying if I said I didn't like you, Hanae," he replied, face hot.

Gods, how he felt the beat of his heart. Faster, yes, but steady. Excited. He felt his face turn red. Felt the warmth of closeness between them spread across his body.

It was not a lie. He needed to know the truth. All of it. Was this old Hirawa's house?

He couldn't tell now. Did she know who he was? And who was she?

No. Think less. Act.

He slipped his hand free of her grip, gently took her fingers into his own grasp as he took a short step back. He bent down, and dared place a kiss upon the back of her knuckles.

If this was a game. He wouldn't lose.

Hanae

 

[Hanae]

Hanae waited for his pulse to speak all of Hiei’s lies and truths to her. And as she expected, as much as to her own selfish delight, his pulse did quicken. Immediately after she touched him, she felt that pounding within his veins increase. Deep and steady, rolling underneath her thumb like a strong ocean wave.

A trick she had learned from her sister, who had learned it from her mother, and her mother had learned it from her own mother. A secret passed down within generations upon generations of women, each one had looked like a delicate rose, blooming boldly with a delight scent, always seeming to be just that: a flower. But roses had thorns and those who loved roses should always be prepared to bleed from the thorns.

Despite this assurance, making Hanae rather bold and giving her a sense of authority to continue looking deep into Hiei’s dark eyes, she was not prepared for what would happen next. She was not prepared for her own heart to betray her as Hiei spoke without a jumbled mess. It was a answer and not a answer all at once, seemingly direct but not giving her a ‘yes’ or a ‘no.’ Not that she wanted to know about that.

She was searching for something far more important. But Hiei continued to surprise her as he bent down before her.

Now she was taller than him. The entire time, Hanae had been much, much smaller than Hiei. And here he was, kneeling down and kissing the back of her hand! Hanae’s porcelain skin immediately turned beet red, her own heart beating faster and faster. Where Hiei had been a smooth, slow rolling wave of the ocean, Hanae’s heart was much like the flutter of a hummingbird’s wings.

Hanae wanted to look away and pull her hand to her chest, to maybe mumble something naive and innocent. However, she knew what had to be done, even if she couldn’t understand how she was supposed to do such a thing with a straight face. With a bright red face and a trembling hand, Hanae cleared her throat.

“Your associates are waiting.” Was all she could said lest her voice waver further.

Hiei

 

[Hiei]

He rose from his knee, still holding Hanae's hand, his eyes tried to find hers once more, but she had turned away.

He smirked.

Some foolish sense of pride welling up in his chest. He would tell himself that he won. That whatever had transpired between them, he had come out on top. And yet...

His hand still held on to hers, even as she dismissed him. Reminded him of his own excuse.

"Would you rather I stay?" the words fell out of his mouth, and to hear them in his own ear, well. If he didn't want to know the answer so badly, maybe he would have worn a look of surprise. Yet there he stood, His hand still holding hers, feeling how it trembled. That same hand that had been so steady before.

In the storm of emotion that this night had brought, Hiei felt as if they stood in its very eye, and his gaze was fixed upon her.

Hanae

 

[Hanae]

Hanae’s stomach was in knots, her heartbeat erratic. Hiei stood up and she couldn’t quite look in his eyes, instead, she kept her gaze lowered. She wasn’t sure what the make of his words, of his actions— why wouldn’t he let go of her hand? It was strange, back at the clinic she had been so cheeky, and yet now all of her bravado was gone. She had instead reverted back into that shy and timid girl of her past.

No, Hanae thought firmly, pulling herself out of that anxious sea. She must, she needed to do this, now more than ever! Hanae took a deep breath, and looked at their hands, interlocked. Neither of them seen keen in letting the other go, and so Hanae brought her gaze to Hiei’s.

Her hand was warm. She always felt cold, and her hands and fingers tended to display that inward chill more than any other part of her. She wondered if Hiei felt the chill, or if his hand was so warm that he hardly noticed her icy touch. Hanae stepped forward, a large step that ate up any sort of space between the two of them.

This was dangerous, so incredibly dangerous. Her heart beat faster, Hanae never knew her heart could raise such a racket as it did now.

“I would be lying if I said I didn’t want you to stay.” Was that the truth? Or a lie disguised as a truth? Hanae reached her free hand outward, placing it onto Hiei’s chest. Where had he hidden that slip of paper? “Your heart is so steady, unlike mine. Can you feel my heartbeat, Hiei? Are you the cause of this?” And to prove her point, she moved their intertwined hands up, moving her hand just so as to place his palm onto her delicate chest, right above her breast.

She had to keep him there, just a moment more. Hanae needed that paper, to confirm her suspicions.

Hiei

 

[Hiei]

What little space he had managed to put between them was done away with a stride, her hand still holding on to his, felt almost defiant in its boldness. Warm betwixt his grasping fingers, and she was warmer still. Her body, soft and delicate, as she pressed in against him. Or maybe he was just so hot. His heartbeat beat faster still, beat by beat, it pulsed against his bones and his head seemed to swim with the rush of blood that swirled about.

And he could feel her heart fluttering too. Its quickened pace drumming through the layers of fabric between them.

Foolish. This was more than foolish. There was so much he did not know.

Yet, as she pressed his hand against her chest, his palm against the very beat of her heart, a maddening thing that pounded beneath a cage of flesh and bone, he couldn't seem to care about anything else beyond the feeling there between them. Electric.

"I can't know what quickens your heart so, Hanae," He answered coolly, and like a snake, his hand pressed its way up from her pounding chest, ran firm along the nape of her neck and with callused fingers come to rest behind her neck, he pulled her closer still. "I can only speak for my own heart," Dangerously close. "Listen," he almost begged, as to rest her head against his chest.

"Does it still sound so steady?" he asked tenderly, feeling as if his heart would jump from his throat if he but stopped to think.

Hanae

 

[Hanae]

Hanae couldn’t speak. Words were trapped in throat as she looked up at Hiei when he moved his hand. It didn’t move lower— which she was terrified of happening because what was she supposed to do then?— but instead went to the back of her neck. She winced, shutting her eyes tightly and half-expecting him to strangle her. Yet, he had pulled her head closer.

He was so warm.

Hanae inhaled deeply, catching a myriad of smells intermingling. From it she knew that Hiei did bathe, more than plenty other residents of Sonshan, but it had been awhile. A slight tang of sweat and dirt, a heady musk that wasn’t necessarily unpleasant. There was something else interwoven between this, something sharp and metallic. Hanae hadn’t realized she had been holding her breath.

She released it and gently, oh so gently, nuzzled her face into his chest. She swallowed hard, leaning her slender body against him. She kept her eyes closed, slightly disgusted with herself for being so immodest, thinking of how this was probably making her grandmother and mother and father and even her sister roll over in their graves right now.

If they knew that their little Kohana was eagerly embracing this man, this dangerous, dangerous man—! Don’t think. She reminded herself.

Hiei’s heart must have been hypnotizing her with it’s dissonant rhythm. She heard it loud and clear, but it offered her no relief. Her hands slid up to his chest. Where was that paper, where would it be? No answer came to mind. Was she thinking of the wrong questions? Perhaps. She thought back to when Shinobu had arrived, how Hiei was one edge because of it.

Where would father hide it? Hanae thought, and instantly she received a answer. Like a kiss from a ghost, her fingers barely touched Hiei, slipping underneath the robe, searching. But despite her whisper-like touch, Hanae looked up at Hiei.

“Your heart,” she said, loud enough to command his attention, to urge him to look only at her face. “It’s like a drum, Hiei.” Fingers kept searching and searching and— this! Suddenly, Hanae frowned and then took a step back, pushing Hiei away from her so she could pivot on her heel, her back facing the gangster as she crouched down low and shook her head.

“I may be naive but even I know what men like you think of women.” She said fiercely, hiding that slip of paper within her blouse. “If you’re… you’re… going to be foul then I suggest a woman of the night! After all, I’m sure that’s why you’re meeting up with your associates, to drink and go from bar to bar. I’ve seen it plenty of times. And I refuse to sully my reputation further. I’ll be seeing you tomorrow, once you’ve settled down from your… your lascivious desires!”

Hiei couldn’t see Hanae’s face, but if he had, he wouldn’t see a look of disgust although her voice suggested otherwise. Instead, a proud and victorious look claimed her features, and it was hard to hide her wide smile.

Hiei

 

[Hiei]

What is even happening? Some smarter part of him asked. A dumber part of him did not care, her voice calling his attention, her eyes demanding all of it as her hands felt around his chest.

It's like a drum.

He swallowed hard. His moved to form a word when small hands pushed hard against his chest and drove him back a step and a half. Hanae whirrled away, her short cut hair fanned out as she put distance between them and made herself smaller and sent stinging words flying his way.

Men like you. Foul. A woman of the night. Your lascivious desires.

His brow knit together to a furrowed point, and he adjusted his robe, eyes downcast as his hand worked the disturbed fabric. "Forgive me," he said coldly as he looked down at his own hands, still warm from... whatever it was that had transpired. "I forgot myself," he bowed his head to her, turned away and left the house without another word. His insides felt twisted into knots, and all he could think about was the feel of it all as he walked through the empty halls of the home he had been invited to.

How warm it had all been. And how cold he felt now.

---

Later that Evening:
Inside the Grinning Cat Tavern

​

The sound of wine bottles and clay cups tinked about, as many voices mingled and mixed. They spoke about business. Woes. A marriage in the family, the play they saw the other day, and the weirdest dog you ever did see. It was just another night at the Grinning Cat, and Hiei skulked at a table on the third floor balcony with his crew. It was usually a little quieter up there.

Had she played him?

"Hey, Hiei," Kenta said. "Hellooo, Hiei?"

Maybe it was just more a different kind of noisy.


Hiei's eyes found Kenta. "Hmm?"

"What's wrong with you man, I mean, usually you'll at least have a drink or two before you get all lost in your brain cave," the wildkin wiggled his fingers about his own head.

"My what?"

"Then you'll usually say something like, we have to do better, or, if we move just a few more stones, we will outsell Akotori's crew, and Lady Duri will show us favor, you know?" he waited for a response.

"Nothing," Hiei said, and took a drink from his half empty cup of sorghum wine.

Kenta's eyes narrowed. "You serious man?"

Hiei looked to him sidelong. "What do you mean?"

Kenta looked at him, expression long and flat. "What do you mean, what do I mean?" he clicked his teeth, and grumbled before he took a drink from his own cup.

Hiei looked away, and sipped slowly on his drink.

Kenta clacked his cup down against the table hard. "I mean!" he failed at whispering, and raised his cup cheerfully at two young women who passed him by. They laughed and walked on by. Kenta frowned. "I mean... you look kinda down in the dumps man, more so than usual,"

"Care to explain?"

The wildkin shrugged. "I dunno, you look more lost, and less, generally annoyed,"

Hiei crossed his hands, elbows on the table, his wine cup obscured his mouth as it hung betwixt middle finger and thumb. "You remember the Hiwara job?"

"Hiwara job?" Kenta squint his eyes and cocked his brow. "Can't say that I do..." he said, voice stretched like he was trying to squeeze the thought out. The strained expression vanished from his face, an easy smile took its place. "Migi! Yo, over here man!" he waved him down.

 

[Hanae]

Migiru was known to always be late, and the reason was always because of a woman. Whether it was a girlfriend of the month yelling at him for cheating (again) or a woman sparking his fancy for the night, if Migi was absent then it was usually because of his insatiable love for women. Young or old, thin or thick, short or tall, human or nonhuman, Migi didn’t shy away from any experience he could explore, even if it was at her expense.

Yet somehow, Migi never seemed to be in short supply when it came to his options with the ladies.

The two that had giggled at Kenta paused as Migi made his way over to their usual table. The women’s eyes prompting Migi to look over at him. A smirk and wink was all it took for the pair to blush and giggle to one another, scampering off elsewhere. Girls loved bad boys. It was practically a scientific fact at this point. But what was better than a bad boy?

A half-naked bad boy. Migi hadn’t bothered to fix his rob, letting it flit around his waist. If it weren’t for the bright blue sash tied above his hips then his robe would have been on the ground. A swirl of tattoos and scars decorated the strong muscle that bulged with every move. He took his seat, and without asking, took hold of Hiei’s half-full glass and gulped it down as if it were a shot.

“Ugh.” His deep and raspy voice rumbled out, “Not sorghum wine again. Reminds me of what my grandpa used to drink.” His lips had puckered up. “Nothing like rotten cabbage, paint and disinfectant mixed together to make me want to stop drinking.” Despite his size, Migi was fond of the sweeter stuff. Others stopped pointing it out after the punch Hiroto took when he said Migiru had lost his pair after drinking strawberry rice wine.

Hiei

 

[Hiei]

"I was drinking that," said Hiei with narrowed brow.

Kenta grinned wide. "Migi, bro, what took you so long?"

"Why do you ask as if we didn't already know,"

"Hah! Well, who better than to help you out, Hiei?"

Hiei's eyes narrowed even more. "Migi can't get himself properly dressed half the time, what is he going to help me with?" he asked and made to stand up.

"Hold on, Hiei! Hold on!" Kenta held the taller man back with an arm looped across his chest. He pulled him in under his wing, much to Hiei's dissapointment. "Don't go actin like we don't know what's going on here, little crane boy,"

"Little crane-" Hiei growled, and popped up from his seat.

While shorter, Kenta had more mass on him, and kept Hiei down. "Hiei... come on man... we've seen it before, haven't we Migi?"