A young woman sat on a floating oar, hovering above the house off the street's corner. She can't seem to arrive on a decision. She stared at the window facing her. Its lights were shut, just like the rest of the house. But there was no full-moon illuminating the house's facade just as it did in what seemed like a few aeons ago. Her shoulders, bare against the cold autumn breeze felt numb. As the rest of her body. Her world was reduced to the frantic beating of her heart and the familiar house beneath her.

She racked her brain for reasons why she should be here. Excuses. Explanations. But found none. How she wanted Hiei's blunt and scalding words to be her reason, but knew better than to fool herself. She's way beyond feeling any sense of grief or self-pity over the koorime's deprecating assesment of her courage. A niggling thought in her mind tells her she's incapable of feeling anything anymore. The past three days served for the purpose of her personal purging. Drained. Spent. Empty. The young woman sitting on the floating oar that night, is but a shadow of the troubled young woman sitting on the very same oar not too long ago. Looking down at the very same house. The koorime's tauntings reached her senses as how the cold wind brushes her skin. Iced pain at contact, gone on the next minute.

She descended on the level of the closed window and slid it open, expecting no one to be there. Her now bare feet came in contact with the soft material covering the ground, as though welcoming her. Expectant? she wondered, dismissing the silly notion of a room expecting her untimely visit. The room was pitch black. No moon to aid her sight. She blinked once, then another, adjusting her vision. She managed to make her way across to where the bed was, his study desk beside it and the imposing shelf of books. She ran through the motions of what she did the first time she intruded this place. His lair of solace. Touching his books, the frames whose pictures she can't discern in the awful light, the sheets of his bed... tucking them in the safety of her heart. Something to remember him by. Form time to time, she thought.

She walked back to the sliding window where she came in. She placed her palm flatly against the glass and surveyed the scenery. Trying to see how the world looked from his perspective. Her eyes closed, wanting to revel on this final moment when she's with him. Or the nearest she can get. The room still smelled like him. Roses. It cloaked her in subtle comfort, a reminder of how it felt to be in his arms. Something that is meant to be but a reminder. She stood there. Bathed and surrounded by everything that is him. Temporarily at peace. Pretending everything is normal. That tomorrow she'd be heading back to Ningenkai collecting departed souls to be escorted to Reikai. Maybe stop by the ramen house and talk with Keiko or Shizuru or Yuusuke. Watch him as he falls asleep... to pretend. Even for that small time, time has allowed her.

Botan bit her lip, steadying it from trembling at the gash that solitary word brought. "And," she paused, not sure if she should tell him further, "and I wanted to keep memories." Silence. Weighing out which response would bring her to her knees and break in front of him? she thought. She silently vowed she would leave as soon as he said so. But he didn't.

He made no move to release her hand and tightened his grip, only to move closer to her that her back felt the fabric of his gi. "You can't do this to me," she pleaded, tugging at his firm hold. "No," he repeated, "you can't do this to me." Botan frowned, uncertain of what he meant. "I won't allow you to break me with your loss," his voice still monotonous, devoid of emotion. "I do not deserve your forgiveness," Botan whispered, her eyes set at the muddy painting that is the sky. "But I have not forgiven you, Botan," he answered, and smiled to himself as he sensed her tensing up. "I hate you," he stated. "Remember when we first met?" he asked quickly so as not to allow any response from her. She nodded once, a helpless prey on the hands of her captor.

Botan turned her head, seeing him for the first time. Awed momentarily by his beauty and the way he seemed content with how things were at that moment. She drew her face closer to his, feeling the warmth of his steady breath against hers. Slowly, she yielded to the request of her instincts and pressed her mouth to his. The touching of one's mouth with another's. Neither one moving, leaving it as that. She inched her lips off his, "Aishiteru." The word sounded threateningly fragile against her lips. Brittle as though it may break and fail sound. Botan's eyes fluttered open, watching his features transported with pain and confusion, she pulled back. "I'm going now," she said, intent on taking his hatred with her as she leaves her love to him. His grip on her hand eased free, letting her unlatch the window's lock.

The feel of his hands on her waist, froze her movement. "Don't," he muttered, almost an order. He watched her yield to his request. Succumb to his touch as he drew her to him. His senses filled with her scent. Under the imperfect night, she was a sight to behold. An apologetic gift given to him by the heavens. He gathered the softness of her hair and settled it to one shoulder. Her perfection bade him closer and he responded by nuzzling her bare shoulder. Trailing moist kisses up her neck until he reached her ear. Caught between his teeth, Botan gasped at the sensation. Foreign and unexpected. But not unwanted. "Stay," he whispered. Her answer came with her turning to him, she reached to cup his cheek and moved closer. Surrendering to the moment, they kissed.

"Kirei." he whispered to her ear, she felt her cheeks warmed by those words. Never expecting admiration from someone as beautiful as he is. He slowly freed her of her clothing, she gasped as she felt his bare chest against her naked back. Kurama closed his eyes, trying his utmost not to lose control again. Her unknowingly sensuous response to his touch pushes him to the edge of sanity. Once stilled, he pressed her trembling form against his. She moaned, his name on her lips. An unnamed sensation brewing low on her belly. His hand stilled her hips from the small motions she was making. He hushed her, "not yet." Small biting kisses stung her shoulders and neck, relieved by the velvet touch of his tongue. I'm going to scream, she thought as she felt one hand close over her breast. She pressed her eyes shut, his fingers caressing her to tautness. Almost pain.

The hold of her teeth on her lower lip, clamped further as his other hand's fingers played dangerously lower. By the time he cupped her mound, she tasted warm blood drip from her lower lip. Kurama found himself smiling at the picture she presented to him. Her response to his touch arousing him implacably. Strands of her hair stuck sensuously to the dampness of her neck and cheek. His body clamored to end this moment, but his heart throbbed loudly in his desire to pleasure her more. To converse the love he felt for her, a love that words failed to cut across. "Onegai," she pleaded. He smirked, "hn. You don't even know what you're asking for, koishii." The contact of his palm against her core gave way to the gentle probing of his fingers, plunging deep as he found the passage.

She shoved her hands into the softness of his tresses as she drew him closer, deepening his kiss. He groaned at the innocent motion of her tongue in his mouth. The sweetness of her kiss mingled with the taste of the blood on her lips. He felt drugged by her scent, her naivete, as he shifted his weight slowly on top of her. His nakedness coming in contact with her own. He slid his mouth lower, trailing moist kisses down her throat. His hands moving over her skin on their own volition. She clenched tightly at his shoulder in anticipation, her nails digging deeply when the warmth of his mouth enclosed one swollen breast. All of a sudden, her world was in a swirl, trapped in a whirlpool of desire. His presence completely engulfing her. The feel of his tongue on his breast, his fingers stroking her feminine folds then plunging into her heat. She released her grip on his shoulders and settled on his hair, holding his head to her.

She whimpered his name, "i-it hurts," she pleaded. Kurama studied her countenance and felt passion course through him. She drew him closer. "Onegai," she whispered against his ear, nipping his earlobe in persuasion. "Aa," he answered settling against her, slowly entering... careful not to break her fragility. "Look at me," he implored, fixing his eyes on the purple haze of her stare and saw unerring trust and unconditional love in them. She watched his emerald gaze, now tainted with golden specks, as a completely alien feeling infringed her. She shifted towards him, trying to hasten his attempt. He groaned, "don't," delaying her pain was already hard enough as it is, but her innocent movements is making it more impossible. Another shift and he felt her barrier. He pressed his eyes close. Claiming her mouth as he claimed her innocence, yielding to her beseeching gestures. She cried in pain, his mouth swallowed the muffled sound.

His breathing was labored as he kept still, trying to block out her welcome tightness and her warmth as he watched her face. Wanting her fully aware of what they were doing. Of what he offered. He pecked one cheek, "Botan," then the other, "daijobou ka?" Her voice trembled, the pain settling, melting into pleasure, "H-hai." He gripped the fabric beneath them, struggling to repress his hunger, knowing she's not yet ready. But she suddenly seemed relentless and shifted to have him deeper, her eyes mirroring her unawareness of what she was doing.

Annoyed, he ordered whoever it was to go away. The answer came as a more persistent knock than the first. He sighed and called out to let whoever it was to come in. "Look, I have tons of work to do. Now if this doesn't... wait a minute. Who are you?" he asked, peering curiously at the dark-haired woman standing before him. She smiled at the child-like prince, then began to recite the words she's been told to speak before him "um, ohayou Koenma-sama. My name's Miyoki..." she was abruptly cut off by Koenma's screeching voice, screaming over the intercom. "Who let this woman in here? I don't talk to strangers without any appointments. Whoever..." Miyoki promptly turned the machine off, much to Koenma's irritation.

Her previous introductions finally sank in. "Matte!" he ordered, still keeping the bratty attitude. She sighed in exasperation but did as what he told, "now what?" Koenma strode back to his desk, a slight smile transfixed on his features. "You are tempestuous, disrespectful and from how you tie your obi, extremely clumsy," Miyoki glanced back and sure enough, her obi was tied crookedly. She seethed in anger. He tossed an envelope to her which she clumsily caught, "you're hired." Her gaze shifted from the envelope then back at him, almost smiling when she remembered something. "Hey, I was hired even before I came here," she argued.

She was exhausted beyond words, her mind reeling in confusion as she tried to figure out where she lost her way to the village of the hermits. Or what was left of it. She gave up caring about where she's headed, the steady rumble of thunder off a distance reminded her of better things to worry about than finding her way. She mustered as much power as she can and started to walk more briskly. Searching for a canopy thick enough to shelter her and keep her dry for the time being. To no avail. Of course, she thought grimly as the first needles of the cold rain started to prick her arm.

it was only then that she realized she has stopped walking. She stood in a clearing, welcoming the freezing stabs of rain. Her limbs felt weak, how she wanted to lie down and wait for her death. When a faint memory arrested her in her standing state. A memory of a cave... a silver haired youko... a thief who stole her heart. She raised her eyes to the gray sky, crying for her pitiful state... for her tragic fate. So I'm gonna die in some unknown forest, in the middle of the rain after all, she thought quietly. Through all the souls she's escorted to Reikai, she always bore witness to how their death occured. She'd catch herself wondering from time to time where and how she'd die. If she'll ever die.

"You shouldn't stand out in the rain for so long. You might catch cold," a cynical voice called out of nowhere. She decided to ignore the all but familiar voice, dismissing it as a play of her imagination. Already, she's hallucinating. "Did you lose another ningen?" he asked, mocking her. Her eyes flew swiftly around her, looking for the voice, not able to dismiss the last statement as imagination. She was still searching frantically, through rain blurred vision, for him. She paused her ferverish search when she felt him standing behind her. "Roses," she murmured, "you always smelled like roses."

"Why'd you leave?" he asked quietly. "Because I had to," she answered, "I need to find myself, Kurama," she paused, "doushite... I don't deserve to be happy. I don't deserve you." He turned her to him, the golden eyes of Youko Kurama regarding her. The cold fortress replaced by warmth and even mirth. "Shikashi, you didn't have to go anywhere else if you wanted to find yourself, koishii," he told her bewildered form. "W-wait a minute. Y-you...," the very impression of him, here in some part of Makai, as Youko Kurama managed to cut the connection between her brain and mouth. "What happened?" she asked finally.

He smiled at her confusion, "remember I told you once, I'd return to Makai and give up Shuuichi once there's no more need for him to stay there?" He lay a hand on her cheek, stroking it gently with his thumb. "You didn't need to return to your past to find your true self," he hushed, water dripping down his immaculate form. "Because your true self has always been in me. My soul. My very being. Since I found you soaking wet as you are now, you went on to be a part of who I am. And I treasure that part of me to this very day," he continued, "I am the youko thief, the ningen... and mostly you."

"Does this mean we live happily ever after?" she asked.

Post-mortem: I would personally like to thank everyone who read the story thus far. Your words of encouragement, suggestions and comments were deeply and forever will be appreciated. Botan's Past was a project extremely big for a first-time writer so I'd have to apologize to the nitpickers out there. I'll do better in the other fics ^_^. I'd also like to credit some people...

A little explanation on the first part of Chapter 9a. I felt a bit guilty for leaving out Yuusuke's fight scene with Nadori so, I decided to include a WAFFy scene between him and Keiko in this section as a sort of atonement to all Yuusuke-Keiko fans out there. Sorry if it got too long I had to divide it into two sections. Oh and if you'd read back to the previous chapters, some scenes were repeated (for dramatic purposes, I guess ^^)

Doushite - and

Shikashi, Demo - but

Aa, hai - yes

Dame, yamete - stop

gomen, sumanu - sorry

koishii - beloved

anata - a term of fondness used by a wife to her husband

sayonara - goodbye (though I read somewhere this is used when it pertains to someone never coming back)

aishiteru - I love you

kirei, kawaii - beautiful (though I think kawaii may pertain to males while kirei exclusively for girls)

uchikake - its some sort of a cloak worn over the bridal kimono

tsuno kakushi - a bridal hood, usually of the same material as the uchikake. It is believed to conceal the bride's horns (as women were deemed 'evil' in acient times)

Hey, you're not off the hook yet! Comments and suggestions (for other probable fics) are still expected and will be appreciated (doumo!). Questions and inquiries, please email me at koishii@licensedtokill.com. Thankies!