Hiei knows why he cannot say what she so desperately wants to hear.
Warnings: Blood, questionable sanity.
Speak No Evil
They always haunt him. You should tell her. She deserves to know. She needs her brother.
But they don't /know/. They don't see what he sees when his eyes are shut and his soul is bared.
Now he's dreaming. These dreams are never dark. They're always calm and bright, silently mocking him with false promises of hope and serenity.
She's sitting under a tree, her back to him. There are birds sitting on her shoulders, her knees, her outstretched hands. She laughs softly as they chirp happily.
He marvels at the picture of innocence she presents. He's afraid that if he speaks or moves everything will break.
He slowly lifts up his hands to stare at them, as if to confirm his existence there in all that purity. He suddenly feels nauseous.
They're covered in blood, a dark red that has dried with time. He violently tries to wipe them clean with his cloak, all the while knowing the hopelessness of it all. This stain is his bitter and eternally faithful companion for the rest of time. Forever and always.
But maybe, he thinks as he watches her, maybe it doesn't matter. Maybe he can still love her regardless. He's not blind - he sees her loneliness, the pain behind her gentle smile. And he knows he alone can make that pain disappear.
He speaks to her, and she turns around in surprise. The vague flicker of hope in her eyes is so heartbreaking that he cannot do anything but tell her the words she has wanted to hear for years.
Her expression of joy is indescribable as she runs towards him, arms outstretched. She buries her face in his chest and sobs, uttering a million apologies and dreams. He returns her embrace, knowing that they can both finally start to live again. He's been dead for so long...
But it's not meant to be.
That permanent mark of blood is still there, just as it always has been. Only now it's /wet/, wet with her warmth, a warmth that burns him.
He wants to pull away, but he can't. He can only watch as that deep red drips all over her. She was white, so white, but now she's dirty - filthy like him. He helplessly tries to stop her contamination, but it's too late. It's spreading. Now it's in her hair.../oh god, it's everywhere/...
He screams and it all shatters.
He wakes up, gasping and panting. He looks at his hands again, hating the sight of them even though he knows they are clean. Any physical blood that has splashed on him has been washed off as if it were paint. In his /mind/, that's where it's imprinted, a shackle he knows he can never escape.
He silently wonders what tears him apart more - her misery or her defilement.
Closing Notes: My first time doing Hiei's POV. Of course I made him crazy, though he's slightly less insane than my Yukina can be.