#((that never asks us to root for the fireflies or be sympathetic towards them-i like it's trippy visual style))

[theheadlessgroom]

@beatingheart-bride

"Well, we insist that you take it," June replied gently (if a touch firmly), reaching across Wilhelm to push the key back towards Emily, adding, "As my husband said, we talked about it earlier: Even before we knew more about everything you've been through...we saw how much you care for our son, and how happy he made you. We could see that the world seemed...much less lonely to you, being by his side, and...well, we can't bear the idea of you being lonely anymore. Least of all after everything you told us.

So, we want you to have a key to our home," she continued, as she took Wilhelm's hand beneath the table, a quiet mirror to the way Randall held Emily's hand in turn. "We want to make it very clear to you that...we're not afraid of you, and that we would like to have you here with us, that you're welcome in our house, anytime."

"I...I can see now that...you're not the monster that I...that I've read about before," Wilhelm added gently. "I should've seen it before, but I didn't, and I'm sorry for it, I'm...I'm so, so sorry, lass. I want to make things right, and so, I want you to have that key, to show that...we trust you. And we want you here. We really do."

At this, Randall smiled gently as he looked from his parents to his beloved, giving her hand a little squeeze, as if to encourage her to accept-he could see that his parents really did trust and care for her, that they regretted the way they had treated her, and wanted to make things right. It was a touching notion, given how alone Emily had been for so long, and he could only hope that she would accept the key, and the offer to become a part of their family.

[not-wholly-unheroic]

Viewing Disney’s Peter Pan Through the Eyes of an Adult

Recently, I’ve seen several posts floating around talking about how Disney’s Hook is difficult for people to take seriously and is much too comical for what Barrie had intended. I grew up with Disney’s Hook. He was my first introduction to the character and the reason why I became interested in reading classic literature, writing fanfic, and seriously delving into the analysis of complex villainous/antagonistic characters, so he has a very special place in my heart and I’m prone to be quick to defend him. Rather than writing a long-winded reply to these individual posts, I decided to just make my own explaining why Disney’s Hook can be viewed as just as tragic and sympathetic as any other version. (You can also read some of my earlier posts defending Disney’s Hook here and here.)

*takes a deep breath* *cracks knuckles* Buckle up kiddos! You’re in for a long ride!

My view of Disney’s Hook as a tragic character lies primarily in my sympathy for him when he switches from a proud, elegant, dangerous character to a shivering mess of a man when the crocodile comes around. Let me attempt to elaborate--but first, a bit of a necessary digression.

Every film/book/play, etc. can be viewed from several perspectives. Typically, there is one character that we are meant to like and who becomes the primary focus of the story. Anyone who opposes that character is automatically an antagonist, if not a villain. Usually, even if the point of view is omniscient, we can still tell that it is not, perhaps, entirely objective in its portrayal of certain characters. This sort of situation happens all the time on the evening news--the interviewer is, in theory, supposed to be a neutral reporter on an incident, but it is often obvious that they favor one side of an issue over another, and as a result, the public's view of the situation and those involved is skewed. The lens through which we view a certain character tends to do the same thing. For instance, in Les Miserables (another favorite story of mine), Javert is viewed as an antagonist because the book is primarily concerned with the redemption story of Valjean; however, if the story was flipped and instead focused on the inspector's character and his transition from a strict legalist to a man so broken by the idea of morality that he commits suicide, he would, perhaps, be viewed instead as a tragic HERO instead of a tragic ANTAGONIST. Javert likely does many GOOD things in the name of the law as well during his career, but we don't see most of them because he isn't the main focus of the book. Similarly, I think Disney’s Hook can be more greatly appreciated as TRAGIC instead of COMICAL when we consider the lens through which we are viewing him.

Disney has always been geared toward children, so naturally, when they tell a story, they want the material to be attractive to a younger audience. This means not only that certain more frightening or upsetting elements of a story may be left out, edited, or altogether changed, but also that WE VIEW THE CHARACTERS THROUGH THE EYES OF A CHILD. (For example, in The Little Mermaid, King Triton's opposition to Ariel going to the surface world is presented in such a way that he seems extremely harsh when, in reality, he is father trying to keep his daughter safe. True, he DOES overreact, but remember, Ariel is only sixteen--not even LEGALLY an adult--and wants to run off with some guy she hasn’t even had a conversation with. But kids can relate to overbearing parents who, in a moment of disagreement, seem like they are being "mean," so that is how the audience sees Triton.) Peter Pan, especially, with its protagonist(s) as a child/children, really magnifies this perspective to the point where, unfortunately, some of the characters become almost caricatures of themselves. When children are legitimately afraid of something, they react one of two ways: Either they run from it/avoid it altogether, or they make-believe that whatever is frightening them is actually a lot less terrifying than it is so that they appear brave. I remember when I was younger, I used to be TERRIFIED of Monstro, the whale from Pinocchio. I couldn't watch the film without getting nightmares. But I didn't want to be afraid of watching the movie, so with my overactive imagination, I decided that I could fix that by turning him into a less scary version of himself and making him into an imaginary friend who more closely resembled Willy the anthropomorphic opera-singing whale from Make Mine Music than the terrifying creature we see in Pinocchio. Anyway, getting back to the point--I overcame my fear of the character by choosing to imagine that he was less scary than he was. This is what a lot of children do, and I think it's why Disney's Hook comes off as being comical.

The first time we see Disney Hook on screen, he actually comes across as pretty terrifying. He literally shoots his own crew member just because he didn't like the guy's singing! Rarely do we actually see Disney villains successfully kill another character on screen, but Hook does not even five minutes into his introduction. Immediately, we get the impression (or at least, a child should get the impression), that Hook is a genuinely dangerous guy. He also seems to regard his loss of a hand as "a childish prank," which further gives us the impression that he apparently has a pretty high pain tolerance and isn't afraid to do horrible, gruesome things to his enemies. If chopping someone's hand off is "childish," then what sort of serious damage does he inflict on his victims? However, this is Disney, and rather than having Hook gut someone or do something else which might scar a kid for life, we soon see he has a weakness...the crocodile. At this point, the Darling kids have been watching Hook for several minutes from their perch up on the cloud and are, probably, starting to have some second thoughts about fighting real pirates when they seem so scary...so what do they do? They do the same thing I did and turn him into a less-scary version of himself. They find his weakness and latch onto it. And since we're viewing things primarily from their perspective, that's how WE start to see Hook too. Hook's fear of the crocodile becomes comical for the audience because the Darling kids are trying to focus on that aspect of him so that they are can forget how terrifying he really is. We see this more frightening side of Hook come out a few more times, such as when he plans to blow up Pan's hideout...and at this point, we even catch a brief glimpse of the more sinister part of Smee when he asks Hook if it wouldn't be more humane for them to slit his throat...AND THIS IS SMEE WE'RE TALKING ABOUT HERE!!! The LEAST frightening of the pirates in ANY version. But I think Disney throws this in just to remind us that Smee is still a pirate, and if HE'S willing to do something THAT bad, Hook is a thousand times worse. However, for the most part, Hook still remains a rather softened, comical version of himself because we are viewing him through the child-lens. Remove that lens, though, and things become more complicated.

Forget, for a moment, that we are supposed to be rooting for the Darling children and Pan, and look again--not as a frightened child who is trying to laugh in the face of danger but as an adult who can feel Hook's pain. I remember one time when I was driving back from the airport in a busy city in the dark and the road was icy...I'm not used to driving in ice, and I'm a naturally nervous driver...At one point, I skidded into the next lane... I literally spent about the next hour hyperventilating, practically rocking myself back and forth, praying, and trying not to cry because I knew if I did I wouldn't be able to see the road. It was horrible... Take that sort of feeling, and I believe it's what Disney Hook is experiencing when the crocodile shows up. Through the "child-lens" it may be funny to see a frightening character in a vulnerable situation, but viewing it as an adult who understands just HOW helpless and terrified one feels in such a situation, you can't help but empathize with Hook. Every move he makes, every tremble in his voice, every look of absolute horror in his eyes tells you that he is not mentally or physically really functioning at the moment. He's on autopilot--he's in survival mode like a wild animal that freezes in hopes that it won't be seen by the approaching predator. Take away the crocodile's obviously silly "theme-music" and Hook's slightly overdone expressions, and you're left with something similar to what we see Hook experience in the novel near the end of the chapter, "The Pirate Ship." ("Very frightful was it to see the change that came over him. It was as if he had been clipped at every joint. He fell in a little heap...he crawled on his knees along the deck as far from the sound that he could go...'Hide me,' he cried hoarsely.") Now we can start appreciating him for the tragic villain that he is supposed to be.

Viewed through the eyes of the Darling children, Hook represents all that is frightening and bad about the grown-up world. If Peter is ice cream parties and summer vacations and catching fireflies in the dark, then Hook is cancer and broken dreams and being worried about being able to make enough money to put food on the table. Barrie, however, tells us that there is much more to both characters than that. Peter has a dark side--a selfish streak that forgets all pain at the cost of never learning from the past, never growing from his experiences and becoming a better person. He is stagnant not only in physically growing up but also in mentally facing reality, which is just as damaging as Hook's attitude of regretting a childhood apparently gone too soon. Hook, too, has a lighter side that loves soft music and flowers and other such things (representative of the good things about being an adult--falling in love, pursuing one's passions in a professional sense, having children of one's own). Disney, of course, doesn't quite do this to the same extent as Barrie since we're given a skewed view of the characters, but it DOES still make a few points which, when stripped of the "child-lens" effect, gives off a similar impression. Peter, for instance, brags to the mermaids at one point about cutting off Hook's hand and feeding it to the crocodile. Though we never get to hear him finish the tale, it is rather unsettling to think that Disney's Pan is capable of such horror. (Personally, no matter WHAT the circumstances of the situation were, I think any real-life child who took such great pleasure in slicing off a body part of another person and then having the presence of mind to feed said body part to a dangerous wild animal would probably be considered a psychopath in need of some SERIOUS counseling.) Disney, of course, glosses over this little inconvenience by having Hook show up before he can really get any further into the story. Again, the child-lens is going up; Wendy doesn't want to see this side of Peter, and neither does the child-based audience, so they choose to look away. However, we see a brief glimpse of this side of Pan again at Skull Rock. First, we see it resurface when he hands Smee a gun and then flies up directly in front of Hook--knowing that he can move out of the way in time. Again, through the child-lens of the audience, it seems funny to watch Smee doing his best (and failing terribly) to aim at Pan...but when you think about it from an adult's perspective, it's actually pretty disturbing. Peter legitimately wants Hook dead and doesn't care if it happens to be at the hand of one of his own crewmen (and arguably, in the Disney universe, Hook's only real friend). When Hook "dies," Peter simply takes the hat and says nonchalantly, "What a pity, Mr. Smee. I'm afraid we've lost the dear captain." It doesn't even phase him that a man might have just died and poor Smee is probably feeling absolutely HORRIBLE because it was (sort of) his fault. Even Wendy's child-lens falters a little here... While Peter is celebrating Hook's death, she at least, has enough of an adult's heart to have compassion on their fallen enemy and turn her face away with an, "Oh, how dreadful!" It happens again a few moments later when Peter is getting ready to kick Hook's hook off the ledge so that he falls into the waiting jaws of the crocodile. (The captain, at this point, is of course, squirming like--to use Peter's phrasing--"a codfish on a hook.") Again, Pan has no sympathy, but Wendy, who is starting to gradually open up her eyes to the truth that maybe staying a child forever isn't all it's cracked up to be and maybe adulthood isn't entirely bad, is losing her "child-lens." Not entirely. Not to the point where she doesn't continue to view Hook as comical to keep from being afraid. But enough to know that what Peter is about to do is wrong. She expresses this verbally when she shouts, "Oh, Peter, NO!"

It is at this point, shortly after the crocodile chase, that we start to see Hook become more of a legitimate threat (and a legitimately sympathetic character) again. Why? Because Wendy, as the protagonist and the one whose eyes we are looking through even more so than Pan, is starting to grow up and face reality for what it is--scary or not. As she sings "Your Mother and Mine" and tells her brothers that they NEED a mother--that Neverland has been fun but they NEED to go home--Hook is throwing Tinkerbelle in a lantern and planning to kidnap the kids and blow Pan to smithereens. And then we get the "slit his throat" reminder (mentioned above)... Also, as a side note, when Hook is ill after the crocodile chase, we hear him lamenting how Pan has made him look like a fool yet again. This is also something that I think we can appreciate more as adults. All Hook's crew wants is to go back to haunting the Spanish Main, but Hook refuses to leave Neverland because he feels that he has to remain there until he can regain his pride...which in and of itself is admirable, since many people who have been played the fool simply hang their head and walk away in shame. Here's this guy who has been bested by a child no more than twelve or thirteen--and possibly much younger... How must that feel? I have been in an emotionally abusive relationship where I was constantly reminded how I couldn’t do anything right, and it felt SO degrading. I literally just wanted to go hide away in my room and cry because I felt so incompetent and useless and just plain stupid. So how does Hook feel? Probably the same way. But he doesn't give up. If there's one thing we can say for sure about Disney Hook, he's a fighter. So, I guess you could say that, in part, one reason I find Disney Hook so sympathetic and tragic is because I can identify with him in his crippling reaction to fear and admire him for his bold attempts to reclaim his pride.

Anyway, getting back on track with the storyline... As we near the end of the film, Hook once again appears to lose face at the final showdown. At first, this doesn't seem to make sense if Wendy is, in fact, beginning to lose the child-lens. However, although Hook is defeated, we are never actually shown that he dies (and obviously, from the second film, in the Disney universe, he doesn't). I remember reading somewhere that when they were originally working on Peter Pan, Walt Disney chose to keep Hook alive and just have him "going like hell" rather than actually dying because, "the audience will get to liking Hook." And by this point, we have...those of us still looking through the child-lens love to hate him as a character we can laugh at, and those of us who are more grown-up love him for being just like us--an adult who is STILL growing up, in some ways, who is STILL afraid of certain things and hasn't always learned his lessons and isn't perfect but also isn't willing to give up even when everything is against him and everyone is laughing at him and nothing seems to go right.

Now, I said that at first, it doesn't seem to make sense for us to view Hook in a comical light in this scene if we are viewing the movie primarily through the eyes of the Darling children--particularly Wendy, who is starting to grow up and realize that adults are supposed to feel things like compassion for one's enemies. However, Wendy is still a child. She IS still afraid of growing up. In fact, she's terrified. And that comes out when the kids are all mocking Hook. He's still frightening to them. They still need the security blanket of pretend sometimes, of focusing on his more comical, vulnerable side...but they don't defeat Hook by killing him in this version, and I think that's significant. As representative primarily of the "scary" parts of growing up, Hook is temporarily cast aside and shoved to the back of their minds, but he IS NOT DEAD. The kids (and even Pan) know he may come back. They know he isn't gone for good. One day, they will have to face adulthood. One day, Hook--in the guise of mortgages and taxes and wars and sickly older parents--will return. But for now, they have defeated him...not just by pretending but by choosing to accept the responsibility of growing up eventually, in their own good time. Even Peter starts to reflect this theme by beating Hook, "man to man" without the use of flight. Wendy, who wants to be the good grown-up but who isn't quite ready to let go of childhood, warns Peter against it, thinking that it may be a trap. She even goes so far as to shout at him to fly when he has the chance even though he has promised not to. But Disney Pan is a bit more mature than some (maybe Wendy's better judgment is wearing off on him), and he keeps his word. He beats Hook "like a man" NOT like a boy. Pan's victory here symbolically reflects the Darling children's decision to face adulthood by going back to London. Thus, Hook is defeated because adulthood is no longer an obstacle which causes a fear is so crippling that the kids can't face it. When Wendy returns home, we get one last glimpse of this truth in Mr. Darling--the real-world representative of all things frightening and frustrating about growing up and, as I'm sure you know, also (significantly) voiced by Conried--who has done some "growing up" himself. Mr. Darling, it seems, is willing to allow Wendy a bit more time to enjoy life as a child, remembering his own childhood fondly, even as Wendy has chosen to accept the responsibility of growing up. Mr. Darling, who much like Hook, was viewed previously by the kids (and by extension, the audience) as a bit of a bully and an object of ridicule, is now the object of Wendy's affection as a mutual understanding is reached. Adulthood is frightening in many ways, but Wendy has also come to realize that it is necessary to take responsibility for one's actions and feel compassion for others just as Mr. Darling has realized that sometimes, it's okay for kids to be kids and enjoy the moment. Essentially, what I'm saying is--borrowing the idea that Hook and Mr. Darling are two sides of the same coin--Hook in Neverland, chased away by the crocodile, appears as comical in the last scene only because he effectively gets one last serious scene through his London counterpart, staring wistfully out the window with a loving wife and child by his side. Wendy isn't quite yet grown up, so she still sees through the child-lens on occasion, but she is learning, gradually, to embrace that which she once feared. She no longer needs Hook, an imaginary figure, to personify that fear. She now has her father back, and though she now RESPECTS what he stands for, she is no longer so terrified of growing up that she can't appreciate the GOOD side of the future (such as having a husband and a family of her own someday) and look forward to it.

[unlockthelore]

Home

The benefit of building a resistance is being able to withstand deprivation but Hiei isn’t sure he’ll ever grow accustomed to being without this. From the fic Fluent on Ao3. For more updates, follow the fluent yyh tag on this blog. 

“Well, don’t you look handsome?”

Hiei snorted at the compliment as slender fingers adjusted the collar of his uniform. To his dismay, the closeness needed for Kurama to fuss over him rendered him unable to look ahead or upward without accidentally meeting the fox’s gaze. Time had given him an unfair advantage in beauty and wiles, gifting inexhaustible methods of disarming Hiei much to his chagrin. Though he’d hoped being in such close proximity to Kurama would’ve given him some resistance, recent changes to the nature of them left him at a loss.

After finally getting the collar tips to stay, Kurama cupped the underside of his jaw delicately and brushed a kiss to the Jagan’s ward. A muttered grumble passed through Hiei’s lips just as a pleasant chill crept down his spine, barely resisting the urge to lean into the kiss when their room door creaked open. Immediately, Hiei whipped his head to one side, catching the faint sliver of pale blue and crimson streaking from the doorway. Tiny footsteps becoming soundless as they hurried down the corridor. His shoulders slumped the further they went. Kurama patted his shoulder sympathetically, and Hiei looked up to him.

“If you speak to her, perhaps you’ll be able to discern the meaning for her discontent.”

Hiei grimaced. While he wasn’t thrilled to leave for the Rites of Succession, it was common knowledge that he would have to depart. However, common knowledge didn’t lend to understanding much to his dismay. No matter how much he tried to will her to understand, he doubted they would see eye to eye before he parted. Kurama’s hand slipped from his shoulder, brushing a trail along his lower back, stifled by his overcoat.

“If you don’t speak to her, you’ll regret it.”

Hiei whipped his head back to him at the assumption and met kindly green eyes lined with steel determination and knowing. Swallowing the lump of words gathered in his throat, he sighed. Ticking filled the silence and as it stretched on, Hiei felt the need to do or say something growing. Yanking at the wide pink collar of Kurama’s sweater to bring him closer, a sharp kiss almost on the verge of bruising beginning. Noses brushing uncomfortably, teeth nearly clacking but with a firm hand to his jaw and a whispered word, the wrinkles between them smoothed out in exchange for pleasure.

Kurama’s lips finding his own in a gentle embrace and the collar relinquished from his vicious grip. Their separation never going far, the Jagan burning beneath the touch of Kurama’s forehead to his own. It shouldn’t have been this hard. Frustration impatiently lapping at his insides like the tide. And if it would stop time, he would destroy that incessant clock ticking away. But it wouldn’t and it would hardly aid him in this. Sharing a lingering look with Kurama, the fox whispered a soft word in a Youko dialect Hiei had only a half-understanding of from his copious and at times joking lessons.

“This is part of being an uncle,” Kurama said as she smiled and kissed the corner of his lips then ushered him toward the door.

Needling aside, a swell of emotion fit Hiei close to burst as he descended down the steps and found his boots, customary of Mukuro’s uniform design, missing. The trail of youki was diffused but lingered enough to lead him to the sprawling grasslands surrounding the back of his and Kurama’s home. Treading through the grass dyed a light brown from the afternoon sun descending across a honey gold sky, he found himself at the base of one of his favorite sleeping trees. Its trunk had split into two winding boughs, one stretching higher into the sky with thick bushels of leaves while the other was a bit lower, housing dozing birds and their nests. Butterflies taking to circling its base and entertaining themselves on the flowers Kurama planted.

Hiei knelt down, brushing his fingers along translucent petals. A jolt of youki and the petals glowed, reflecting the sun’s light and filling out in color. Tipping his head upward to the shadows of the tree’s boughs, his eyes softened and he laid a hand against the tree trunk.

“Hinata.”

For a second, there was no response and he half considered dirtying the uniform to climb the tree. It wasn’t as if it wouldn’t be destroyed by the end of his trip anyhow. Yet, to save him the trouble, two small legs appeared from beneath a tree branch followed by a small hand clutching the laces of his boots tightly. Hiei bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling with pride as she descended from the tree, once cautious step at a time, finding footholds in the aged bark.

The groove where the boughs separated allowing her to stand, looming at least a head over him, despite her small stature.

“What are you doing?” Hiei asked in spite of the redundancy he felt, unfazed by wide expressive crimson eyes narrowing at him exasperatedly. “Give those here.”

She scowled. “No.”

On a face that so closely resembled his sister’s in her youth, he would have hardly expected such an angry expression. However, he’d seen Yukina when she was discontent and even more when she was angry. While his niece had decades before she reached the epitome of her mother’s skill in glaring, she was well on her way.

Raising a brow curtly, Hiei motioned for her to explain and Hinata’s bare foot stamped against the wood. Frost gathering along the moss and catching his eye as some of the butterflies scattered.

“You won’t come back.”

Hiei scowled. “Why would you say that?”

The only way he wouldn’t return is from death. Did she really think so little of him? Her expression crumpled and the anger she seemed to hold onto so desperately was beginning to leave her. Averting her gaze, she clutched the boots tightly to her chest and crouched down in a curled ball.

“You like it better there…”

Hiei’s eyes softened and he glanced over his shoulder, finding Kurama’s silhouette in the doorway. If there was any wisdom for him to be given to combat this perception, the fox didn’t seem to be keen on sharing. Perhaps he was interested as well — learning how deep the change had run in Hiei’s heart and mind. His reluctance to leave in determination to launch into a fight.

For Kurama who’d known of his ways, it would be easier to understand.

For Hinata who knew him as her uncle, there was a different kind of want in presence.

Hiei sighed and stepped forward, his socked feet brushing against the moss-covered tree roots. Using one of the footholds to pull himself up and reach her, brushing his fingers across her hair.

“I like the ginkgo tree outside of the temple, I like eating your uncle’s cooking even if he won’t let me reach into the pot, I like watching you catch fireflies past your bedtime —” Hiei was hard pressed to keep his voice calm, hoping his desperation to not see her cry wouldn’t betray him, and as her head whipped up to look at him, he sighed catching the familiar scowl.

“You promised you wouldn’t tell.”

Hiei chuckled, stepping back and lowering himself to the grass, opening his arms to her. “Then come here and I’ll whisper it to you.”

She seemed to think it over for a second. Nursing the boots to her chest and shifting from her perch, peering down at him with trepidation. Resisting the urge to fidget, Hiei almost exhaled in relief when she leapt down into his waiting arms. His hold on her shifting to a cradle and the boots were forgotten as they fell from her grasp, her arms slipping around his neck. Years ago, he might’ve found the hold restrictive and fought against it but this was neither here nor there.

And he would never raise a hand to her.

“I like it there,” Hiei murmured, stepping back into the grass to hide his stumble as he turned back toward the house’s veranda where Kurama awaited. “And I love it here.”

Hinata shifted in his arms, looking up with tears glossing her eyes and his heart threatened to shatter. “Can I come with you…?”

“Not this time,” Hiei said as he hugged her close, letting her head rest against his shoulder.

“Then when…?” She murmured against the side of his neck and the cool touch of her small hands reminded him of how easily he could be killed. And how unafraid he felt.

“Someday,” Hiei sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head then setting his lips against her crown. “I promise.”

Pulling away enough to look at the soft rounded features, sharp eyes boring into his own observingly, Hiei nodded firmly and Hinata smiled.

“… Okay, but you promised.”

Another change, Hiei thought as he lowered her to the grass and let her lead him by the hand after his boots had been gathered. It was almost comedic. Her tiny hand grasping his own and tugging him across the field to the veranda where Kurama greeted her, congratulating her on eluding him for so long. Promises, entertaining the whims of a small child, of a man who just as easily vexed him as he did endear him.

Sitting down on the veranda, Hiei barely looked up as a chilly press to his cheek preluded Hinata’s departure inside. Kurama taking his place and not saying a word when his movement to tie his boots slowed. Unconsciously brushing his knuckles to his cheek and redirecting the heat in his body to keep the cool touch for a while longer.

Could he really call it a mistake?

Looking to Kurama and catching the sunlight on crimson hair, amused green eyes and a smile so familiar yet new as if he were seeing it for the first time —

Hiei hardly noticed when he had moved. When he fisted Kurama’s sleeve and tugged him forward, kissing him again soundly.

“You have to leave,” Kurama said breathily when the first kiss ended, his cheeks flushed pink reminding Hiei painfully of their first kiss.

“Shut up,” Hiei demanded, tugging him closer to kiss him again, screwing his eyes shut.

After the second, Kurama sounded bemused and spoke in an almost lilting tone. “Kirin will be irritated with you.”

Hiei wanted to say he cared less. Why would Kurama not stop talking? Let Mukuro come fetch him if she liked or for Kirin to come and complete the Rites here. He wouldn’t mind showing his niece or his friend — partner — husband —

So many new words in such a short span of time but each one set his heart aflame.

“I said silence.”

“No you didn’t.”

“Kura— ” Another kiss was pressed to Hiei’s lips, effectively cutting him off and drowning him in sensation all at once. Gentle fingers brushing along the underside of his chin to the curve of his neck before settling at his collar. Touches he wouldn’t have allowed before but felt himself aching for with how close they were coming to being without it for a time.

Parting with a light kiss pressed to the corner of his lips, Kurama’s signature, and his smile in view of Hiei’s lidded eyes. “I’ll miss you too.”

It wasn’t long after, Kurama’s forehead touching to his own and Hinata squeezing him tight around the neck for one last hug, that Hiei was set to depart. Mukuro waved from the forest line where a waiting portal would be on a trail where the connection between the Ningenkai and Makai was at its strongest. To take him back to a land away from this idyllic peace.

Hiei stopped by her side and if Mukuro had an issue with his dalliance, she said nothing. Looking back down the winding paths that would lead to his home, he thought of how he had gotten here. The fate he had been bestowed, the path he tread.

And the realization he could come back home.