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It is easy sometimes, Shizuru finds herself thinking, to forget how old Botan is. The blue-haired girl (is she a girl if she’s fuck knows how old? Shizuru thinks that it probably doesn’t matter) certainly doesn’t show her age, and if someone on the street saw her they might just as easily mistake the psychopomp for a girl still in high school or, at most, someone fresh out of college. Botan’s got a youthful appearance, but more than that is the sheer force of personality that radiates from her at basically all times. Botan’s the life of the party, always ready with some game or scheme or bit of mischief that will end up with someone (most likely Yusuke, although Kazuma has become a favorite target too) shouting angrily while she laughs at their reaction and, most of the time, Shizuru laughs with her.
Remembering becomes easier whenever things get serious for Yusuke and his friends, as happens with a regularity that Shizuru finds more than a little stressful (her cigarette consumption has shot through the roof since Kazuma got dragged into the vortex of weird shit that surrounded Yusuke, for one thing). Maybe it was after Genkai died, when Botan had returned from ferrying the old woman to the Spirit World and then hidden that fact from the others until Shizuru had gotten the truth of the matter out of her. Looking into the psychopomp’s eyes at that moment, the full weight of Botan’s long life hit Shizuru with the grace and force of a Mack truck. Shizuru wishes she’d handled things a little better in that moment, if only because she’d felt spectacularly underequipped to provide anything more than a shoulder to cry on for Botan, who had demonstrated at that moment the truth of something Shizuru carried along with her from that moment forward:
Everyone Botan cared about in the human realm was going to leave her, eventually. Not just leave her – there was a high chance that Botan would see them off herself, both because Botan is working in their region to begin with and because, if Shizuru only had one more chance to see someone before they were gone forever, she’d take it too. Botan’s pretty up front about her fondness for the group, and even though she’s barely met Shizuru in the grand scheme of things – what’s it been, a few months since the tournament? Shizuru’s own sense of time was never the best, and as for Botan, what’s a month to someone who ferried the first humans to their final destination – she’s insinuated herself into Shizuru’s life in a way that make it hard to remember what life without her was like.
Immortality – the concept of eternally existing, watching people she cared about growing old, dying, and leaving her behind – begins to haunt Shizuru after that. Not on a regular basis, but Shizuru is no stranger to death, and in the aftermath of the tournament she’s seen more of it than she cares to, and after thinking for a heart-stopping moment that Kazuma’s dead, coupled with her own near-death experience in a crumbling stadium, it makes sense to her that the whole thing has been on her mind. (Another thing that has been on her mind is that if Botan’s the last person she sees before passing into whatever eternity is, that might be okay)
Shizuru is very good at compartmentalization, and at being the Mature One, so it’s not really a surprise that she manages to keep this whole train of thought to herself for far longer than most might. It’s not until she’s sprinting down the stairwell of an apartment building, trying to get a message to Yusuke that it’s Kazuma, the enemy’s after Kazuma, her fucking brother, the only family she’s got left – only for an explosion to rock the building and send a hail of debris down on her, that Shizuru thinks about it again. If she dies, will Botan ferry her over?
If she dies, would Botan let her stay around until she knows that Kazuma’s okay? Can Botan do favors like that, and is Shizuru someone for whom Botan would do that kind of a favor? Does Shizuru want to be that kind of someone?
It doesn’t occur to her until after she encounters Keiko at the bottom of the stairs and asks her to pass the warning along to Yusuke that Botan was in the fucking room that got blown up, and her first instinct is to get up there and see if Botan’s okay, completely disregarding the blood running down her arm and the pain to begin climbing back up there. It’s not possible of course – the way up is blocked with debris, and Shizuru has to wait for others to help her get through. She won’t unpack this moment until later – there’s a lot of other far more pressing concerns than why Shizuru was willing to run into a potentially collapsing building to find Botan, like potentially losing her brother for starters.
Botan’s hurt, but she’s alive, and Genkai is able to heal her up a bit. It’s a little surprising that Botan’s far more concerned with Shizuru’s own injuries when she wakes up.
“You got lucky,” Botan says, a tone of relief in her voice that catches Shizuru off-guard. “The debris could have crushed you.”
“So did you,” Shizuru replies, keeping her voice steady. “That bookshelf saved your ass.”
“Well,” Botan shrugs, “I would’ve been able to come back either way.”
“But it would have hurt,” Shizuru insists, eyes burning and a tightness in her chest. I don’t want you hurt, she thinks, but doesn’t say.
Red eyes peer at Shizuru curiously. “It wouldn’t be the first time,” Botan says, and for the second time since they’ve met, Shizuru sees the weight of eternity in her eyes. There’s something ancient there, in the way Botan shrugs again, and with a little half-smile, says, “I’m pretty used to it.”
The question pops out before Shizuru can stop it. “How many times?”
Botan’s eyes are focused on Shizuru now more than anyone has ever focused on anything before. Shizuru flushes in shame, an immediate apology springing to her lips. “No, I’m sorry, that was…”
“Ask me again,” Botan says, and there’s a strange tone to her voice, “when this is all over.”
“What if-“ What if we fail, is what Shizuru almost asks, and Botan’s gaze doesn’t waver.
“Kuwabara Shizuru,” Botan says, strange tone still there, “believe me when I say that we will not.”
A thrill runs up Shizuru’s spine at the statement, and she finds that her mouth has gone dry. She nods. She believes her.
Botan is right – they do in fact prevail, another near-death (or was it an actual death? Shizuru isn’t sure) from Yusuke notwithstanding. Shizuru takes a step back from everything after this – someone has to make sure that when Kazuma isn’t risking his life that he’s got a home and food, there’s bills to pay, and also, she’s finally had time to unpack the whole “willing to run into a potentially collapsing building in order to get to Botan” thing and maybe that scares her a little, to care so deeply about someone that isn’t her brother. This way she can see a little less of Botan and get a handle on whatever this thing is that’s growing between them (and maybe so she can avoid asking Botan that question, because what Shizuru is starting to wonder is whether or not she really wants to know what she asked).
It's a surprise to her, then, when this plan, such as it is, fails spectacularly, because Botan shows up unexpectedly at the apartment, ostensibly to check on Kazuma, but for someone checking on Kazuma it sure feels like she’s checking in on Shizuru. Her first instinct is to give short answers to Botan’s questions, try to get some distance, maybe, but this is a woman Shizuru was willing to risk life and limb for – and Shizuru would never admit it out loud but she’s lonely, and Botan’s, well, Botan, so by the third time she drops by, Shizuru’s planned ahead and chilled some beers, and they sit on the couch and chat and Botan doesn’t even bother pretending she’s looking for Kazuma.
They’re a few beers in when Shizuru heads out to the balcony for a smoke, the alcohol giving her a pleasant buzz – not drunk, but not sober either – and when she breathes in the tobacco smoke she feels herself relax just a little bit more. She sighs smoke into the evening and feels content, and when she hears Botan’s footfall behind her she finds herself wondering what it would feel like if Botan hugged her from behind, what the feeling of Botan resting her chin on her shoulder would be like, what if she, that is, Shizuru, turned her head just slightly to the side to kiss the corner of Botan’s mouth.
Ah, Shizuru thinks, as Botan fails to do any of the things she just considered and instead hops up to sit on the railing, I’ve fallen in love. The revelation, which is less a revelation and more just a slight shift in perception, doesn’t make her feel particularly good. In fact, it sours her mood a little, because even if Botan… Well, Botan would have to watch her die. Is that fair? Does dooming Botan to an eternity without her seem like a cool and good thing to do?
“You know,” Botan says, and those eyes are on Shizuru again, “when I said ask me again, I kinda thought you would actually ask.”
Shizuru blinks in surprise. “I… I wasn’t sure that you actually wanted to tell me.”
“If I didn’t wanna tell you, I would’ve said I didn’t wanna tell you,” Botan points out, which is true – Botan’s certainly got the capacity to lie, but she’s always been fairly up-front with Shizuru when it comes to how she feels. “Did you decide you didn’t want to know?”
Shizuru thinks about this for a moment. If I knew how much pain Botan’s endured up until now, will that make me feel any different? “It’s not that,” she says, eventually, “it’s more like… I’m not sure what knowing would change.”
“The truth is,” Botan says, and her voice has taken on a quiet intensity, “I’ve never told anyone. Koenma knows, but he has to know, because he gets the reports.”
For the second time in as many minutes, Shizuru feels surprised. “Why would you tell me, then?”
Botan grins lopsidedly, and looks out over the city. “Why, indeed?”
It’s just cryptic enough that Shizuru asks the question again. “Okay, so… how many times?”
“Over a long existence,” Botan says, “stretching back to the first soul to walk the earth and require escort to the Spirit World,” her voice drops low, “Three thousand, four hundred, thirty-two times.”
Shizuru digests this, and after a moment, Botan speaks again. “I can tell you, if you want, the circumstances of each one. They are not, however, that important.”
“Why aren’t they important?”
“Because, Kuwabara Shizuru,” Botan says, hopping down from the railing to draw closer, “I am not human. This, I know, in a way that you haven’t yet grasped.”
“Did they hurt?”
“I’m immortal,” Botan says, eyes still boring into Shizuru as if to glimpse the truth of her reaction to this information. “I can’t die unless someone makes me. So yes, they did.”
Shizuru’s heart breaks, and she turns to look out over the city, averts her gaze from Botan. She takes another drag off of her cigarette, trying to steady herself. “I’m sorry,” she finally manages to say. “I know it’s different for you, I know that, it’s just… if I had to watch you die, if I had to know you were hurt, I wouldn’t feel any better even knowing you were coming back.”
There is a small, but insistent, tug on Shizuru’s arm as Botan turns her so they are facing each other again. Botan’s expression is hard to read, but if Shizuru didn’t know better she’d almost think it was grateful.
“Shizuru,” Botan says, “it is not fair, I think, for one such as me to never sample the very thing she’s in the business of serving. It is important that I’ve died before, do you understand? I have died before – and I know that I will die again, a thousand-thousand times again, so that I never forget what those I guide have experienced.”
Shizuru chews this over in her mind – tries to put herself in the shoes of an immortal being tasked with guiding the dead, to see the way that it could be important, but overriding all this is the simple fact that when she thinks about Botan dying it feels like someone’s ripped away a part of herself she doesn’t want to give up. “Don’t die before me,” she says suddenly, desperately, blame it on the alcohol or just the overall backwash of the events of the last year and change. She corrects the slip quickly, apologizing. “That’s selfish of me,” she says, “forget it,” she adds, “I don’t know what I’m saying,” she admits, “I just hate the idea of you being hurt.”
There’s an understanding in Botan’s expression now, like she’s just figured out what Shizuru is dancing around. “I can’t promise that, Shizuru,” she says, quietly, “but I can promise I’ll come back to you every time, as long as you live.”
“I wish,” Shizuru says, quietly, just low enough that Botan almost can’t hear, “I wish I could make you the same promise.”
Botan’s arms pull Shizuru into an embrace. “I wish you could too,” she admits, quietly, just before she stands on her toes and kisses her. It’s over quickly – a quick warm pressure on Shizuru’s lips and then Botan steps back, keeping her arms loosely around Shizuru, giving her the opportunity to step back, to get out if she wants to.
“I’m sorry for being selfish,” Botan says, in a tone of voice that suggests she isn’t that sorry, “I just thought the idea of living an eternity and not knowing what kissing you was like was demonstrably worse than living an eternity and knowing.”
“I’ll die one day,” Shizuru warns her, even though Botan knows this more than anyone else probably knows this. “You’ll forget what I looked like, eventually.”
Botan shakes her head. “I don’t remember everything, true, but I remember enough. I remember dying, and I remember the souls who faced death with a smile on their face, and I remember the ones who thanked me and the ones who cursed me and the ones who ran. I remember everything, Shizuru, because sometimes I am the only one to bear witness to someone’s life. That’s part of my job. If you think that I’m going to forget the first woman I’ve ever fallen in love with in the thousands of years I’ve existed, you’ve got another thing coming.”
Something snaps in Shizuru and she pulls Botan in, kissing her again – not quickly like before, but hungry and desperate, all caution thrown to the wind because when a being as old as time confesses you’re the first woman they’ve ever fallen in love with it is hard to not fall even harder than you already have, apparently. Botan makes a number of noises that seem to be approving and Shizuru cannot stop herself from trying to coax more out of her.
Botan finally pulls back to catch her breath a little, though not so far back that Shizuru has to take her hands out from where they’ve found their way inside the psychopomp’s clothes. “See? How d’you think I would ever forget this,” she pants, and it’s delivered in such a breathless daze that Shizuru can’t help but start laughing so hard that Botan is forced to help hold her upright.
“Sorry,” Shizuru says, delivering her apology into the junction between Botan’s neck and shoulder, “that was just… kind of a corny line.”
“Whatever,” Botan says, faux-offended, “you’ve kinda done something to me here, you know.”
“It’s very sweet,” Shizuru assures her, a little punch-drunk herself. “I’m glad to know you won’t forget me.” Her hands rub little circles in the small of Botan’s back, keeping her close.
Botan hums and makes another pleased little noise, and maybe the two would just stay out on the balcony for the rest of the night, except then she opens her mouth and, with a flash of mischief in those ancient eyes of hers, suggests, “You could always, you know, give me more to remember you by.”
Which sounds like a challenge to Shizuru, and so she moves her hands to better lift Botan off her feet, carry her back into the apartment, and do just that.
It is something of a miracle that when Kazuma sees Botan wander out of his sister’s bedroom the following morning wearing one of Shizuru’s dress shirts with her neck covered in marks, the shock does not kill him immediately.