Yu Yu Hakusho 1. One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest

Until Next Time

By Rikku Minouke

Disclaimer: How can I even get a hold of YYH? I'm a starving artist…. Just to make myself clear, I don't own YYH or any other novel I mention throughout this story

**AN: this is just something fun to get me back in the writing spirit after all the drama of the last… however months it's been since august. Now that I have time and am forcing myself to finally have the energy, I am writing again. I will continue my other work, as soon as I feel like I'm ready. This is supposed to be shorter and entertaining, at least for me, to write. I've always loved the concept of "You've Got Mail" I just feel it's more difficult to do that in this day and age.**

**Hubby's out playing Magic the Gathering with his friends, so with a bottle of delicious wine and a box of dominos, this is my shot at it. **

**Dedication: There are a few people I'd like to dedicate this story to:**

**Firestorm****: for helping me even when I dropped off the grid, you still came to search for me and it means the world to me to know there is someone out there besides my husband who actually cares about my existence. **

**Bee**** and Heartluv: the two of you are loyal reviewers and I have to admit seeing you guys sticking by my side and not giving up on me has helped me want to continue with my writing. **

Chapter one:

**One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest**

**By Ken Kesey **

_Dear Mr. Shuichi Minamino,_

_I read your short story the other afternoon to my third grade classroom and needless to say it was a hit. The whole class seemed to be at the edge of their seats with each passing paragraph. Your work has made my job so much easier because the children actually work hard so that they can get to story time sooner. Almost as if they were waiting for the next episode of their favorite television show. _

_Honestly, I can't express how much your work has influenced the children at Bluff Creek Elementary School. The children love each story. Especially the thrillers and I don't mind reading those to them, because it isn't crude and overly violent. Somehow, you've reached the perfect median for the age group I read to. There's enough detail to keep them captive, yet not too much that they can't follow the story. _

_I have to admit, they aren't the only ones who enjoy your work. As the day drags on, I also look forward to reading your next piece to the children. It's amazing to see the children respond to literature, but it moves me and inspires me as well. _

_We look forward to your next collection of short stories. _

_From a most appreciative third grade teacher._

"Geeze, I haven't seen that movie in years," I mumbled to myself while standing in line for my morning coffee. My eyes stared absently at the trivia board.

"Wendy," behind me, a man's voice whispered. Turning with my lips slightly a gape, I saw warm green eyes greet me.

"Excuse me?" I asked, swallowing nervously at his charming smile.

"The lifeguard from Sandlot," his head nodded toward the trivia making his bright red hair sway. The shine and smoothness made me jealous and self-conscious of my own birds nest. "Her name is Wendy Peffercorn."

I felt like my tongue was crawling back into my throat and I knew I was staring. For some reason, I couldn't find words. Luckily, he stepped into my rescue.

"It was on TV a few days ago," he gave a soft chuckle that made my face burn.

"I missed it," and I was ashamed at how quiet my voice was. Seriously, I wasn't the shy type, what was he doing to me.

"No worries," his smile widened and I glanced away for a moment so I could breathe. "It's on again this Sunday."

I felt myself smile. "Good, I'd like to see it again."

"You're up," he smiled, motioning behind me. "Don't forget its Wendy."

I laughed lightly. "Thanks for the ten cents." With that I turned and placed my order. Before I left, I made a point to catch his eyes with a charming smile of my own.


	2. Tale of Two Cities

Until Next Time

By Rikku Minouke

Disclaimer: Don't own YYH in case anyone was unsure about that fact.

Chapter two:

**A Tale of Two Cities **

**By Charles Dickens**

_Dear Appreciative Third Grade Teacher,_

_I have not heard that name before, it must be European. Nonetheless, I enjoyed your letter. Surprisingly enough, I don't seem to acquire much fan mail so I do treasure those few letters or emails I do receive. Also, I do enjoy that it was handwritten. A quality this time period seems slightly lacking in, unfortunately. _

_It thrills me to the core to know that your third graders enjoy my work. That also surprises me more than the fan mail debacle. At first when I read your letter, I had to go back and read some of my old work to see if it was in fact appropriate enough for that age group. Either you push the boundaries on acceptable or you are a very eccentric teacher and that's what the children love. _

_Whatever the conclusion may be, going forward with my work, I may have to keep a closer tab on the way I handle certain descriptions so you don't receive any angry phone calls from peeved parental units. We wouldn't want story time to end and the children to stop wanting to learn. I've sent with this letter a little story that I haven't published, but hopefully it will tide the little ones over until the release of my newest collection next month. _

_Sincerely, _

_The man behind the curtain_

I stood there waiting for my order at the Panera counter. No doubt this lunch would require a few Advil by the time it was over.

"Funny seeing you here," instantly I recognized the warm voice. It's not like I'd recorded it from the once chance meeting at the coffee shop or anything. The sound was just very distinct.

The butterflies started within seconds. One may be lodged into my throat, actually. "It's you." Turning, I marveled at his hair again. Wonder if he'd tell what shampoo he uses.

"How are you today?" he smiled and my knees felt weak. What was this crap?

"Pros and cons to every day," I shrugged but tried to give him a warm smile in return.

"Has the trivia been treating you well?" I giggled at his joke. And then mentally smacked myself. I'm not normally a gigglier.

"For the most part," I said. "There was one the other day that I got all by myself."

"Was it the Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch question?" he laughed when my cheeks started to burn. "I'm proud of you for getting that."

"Hey now mister," I puffed out my cheeks. "Don't be so condescending."

"I apologize," he held up his hands. "That was not my intentions."

I stared at him with narrowed eyes for a moment. "Fine," I nodded more for myself. "I forgive you."

The hustle and bustle of the restaurant floated through our awkward silence. "Are you here with your boyfriend?" he asked calmly and I snorted accidently. But I couldn't help but laugh when his eyes scanned the restaurant.

"No," I shook my head. "I don't have a boyfriend. I'm here with my grandmother." There was a twinge in my voice. I knew I was rude to the elder woman, but I held a bit of hostility towards our meeting.

"Tell me how you really feel," he joked. And I gave a small, honest, smile.

"I do love the woman," I explained. "She only wanted to meet me here to convince me to host a birthday party for her though."

"That's a bit awkward," he nodded in understanding. "Are you going to do it?"

Slumping my shoulders in defeat, I said, "Yeah…"

His soft chuckle drew my attention from the food counter. "I'm sure she appreciates you for it."

"I hope so," I gave him a sincere warm smile again.

"One-oh-four," a waiter called as two plates were set on the counter.

"That's me," I reached up to grab the heated plates.

"Would you like help?" he asked stepping a little closer. Invading my breathing room. A hint of his cologne slipped by my nose and wow did he smell good.

Shaking my head, I turned to leave. But I paused for a moment, before glancing back again to look at his face. "Maybe I'll see you around."

"Maybe," and there was something in his tone that kept me there a few seconds longer before heading to my table.


	3. Three Black Swans

Chapter three:

**Three Black Swans**

**By Caroline B Cooney**

_Dear Wizard of Oz,_

_As it turns out, I'm a woman of many names, but no. No, I am actually of Asian descent. I'm quite shocked, myself, that you don't have bags and bags of fan mail. My mother always believed in the old school way of life. Black and white movies, handwritten notes, phone calls over texting, walking to the neighbors to ask for sugar, and much more. It is because of her that I love and appreciate the solidity of a handwritten letter. When I received your letter in return, I was quite excited that it was also handwritten._

_I have been told many times that my personality itself pushes the boundaries of acceptable. With that in mind, it's no surprise that these stories are right up that alley. However, they are censored enough that, as far as I know, the little ones don't have nightmares. Also, it helps that I do read them prior to classroom story time. That way if there is anything I think is too much for them, I try to reword it in a way that won't damage their fragile minds. In both of our defenses, I've only done that once and I tried to stick as close to your work as possible. I don't claim to be as talented as you are by any means, Mr. Wizard. _

_Please don't filter your work on our account. We love every second of it. Even when Mr. Darcy was nailed to the barn in your second book. The children all gasped because he was believed to be the killer! Your work is fantastic and we hope you continue writing as if third graders weren't waiting as patiently as they possibly can for your next release. _

_That short story you sent was magnificent. The children will just love it. My heart thanks you to the ends of the universe for this. I'll start reading it to them on Tuesday, when they return to school after Presidents day. And boy, oh boy, will they be thrilled right out of their shoes for this special gift. _

_With so many thanks to give, _

_Nancy Drew's babysitter _

….

Of course, there would only be one cashier and three people with over flowing carts in front of me. Sighing, I held tight to my basket. At least I didn't work today and wasn't in a rush.

"You'd think they would be more prepared for today."

Turning around, I saw the fire red hair and smiled. "It's only president's day, though. There aren't any huge deals going on right now."

He seemed to give my statement a moment's thought. "However, children don't have school today. And doesn't that mean increase in sales on days like this."

"Touché," I gave a small chuckle and shifted my basket to my other hand. "What brings you to Target?"

He shrugged one shoulder and held up a pack of mechanical pencils. "Mine have mysteriously disappeared this morning."

"How is it you can come here and only buy one item?" My eyebrows furrowed and my jaw sagged in disbelief.

"This was all I needed," he shook his head. "I only journey here when I absolutely need something. Like right now, for instance."

A short laugh left my lips as I shook my head, sending strands of hair to fall into my face. "Incredible. I feel like I should live here." Glancing back at the line, I noticed it moving slightly forward. "You do realize that with one item, you could do the self-checkout?"

"But then I wouldn't be able to stand here and converse with you," his words warmed my cheeks until I saw him eyeing my basket. "Why don't you go to the self-checkout?"

"Because, sir, I need a gift card," I smiled at him, shuffling my converse clad feet awkwardly. "It's a coworker's birthday tomorrow and this was easy and then she can get whatever it is she actually wants."

"Sir?" his jade eyes laughed at my comment and I tried not to let my cheeks turn as red as his hair. I admit it, I may be obsessed with his hair. It's just so pretty… creepy. I may be on the verge of being creepy now. "What's with all the markers?"

And I was back in the conversation, watching his face pick through the red basket in my hands. "I have a little art project coming up at work that I need to prep for."

"An art project?" his tone hitched in surprise. "You mean it's acceptable to do art projects after we've graduated school?"

Laughing enough to flash my teeth, I said, "Yeah, I suppose it is odd. My boss wants the staff to do some donation thing. It's quite extravagant actually. And I'm the only one in my department with any drawing skills." I bobbed my head from side to side as if it was the most amusing thought in the world. At least I got to feel my hair bounce on my shoulders. "Yay for me."

"It looks like it will be a long and dreary night for you," he gave me a pity smile and I rolled my shoulders as if blowing it off.

"Let's hope now," I shook my head.

"Did you end up agreeing to do your grandmothers party?" His chin nodded behind me as the line moved several inches again.

Sighing, I responded, "Yes. Luckily that's not until July, but still that'll be crazy work. She wants it to be a 50's themed party. Do you know anywhere the sells poodle skirts?"

His laughter made the hostility in my heart clear away slightly. "Can't say I've ever had the need for that knowledge, but I'll let you know if I discover ones location."

"Much appreciation," I couldn't stop the smile that I sent him. Glancing around in time to see the line moving, I happily set my basket on the black conveyor belt.

"Anytime," he returned the smile. "What's your donation for, at work?"

For a moment, I thought about my word choice. "Man do you ask a lot of questions." There was a barrier behind his eyes and I wasn't sure if I wanted to let this man know everything about me quite yet. This was after all the third time I'd see him. I do have some integrity, I'll tell him 80 percent truth and hold back that last 20 percent to keep myself mysterious. I suddenly imagined myself mentally sweat dropping like one of those anime shows. "Each department is putting together a care package for a troop overseas. We are assigned a specific unit and we'll write letters or draw pictures and send them gifts."

"That sounds very nice," he nodded and I picked at my chipped red nail polish. "It must be a great feeling to send those off."

"I think it'll be very satisfying to feel like we've made a difference to the men and women across sea," I looked into the green mass of his eyes and felt my breath catch. That barrier that I was so sure was there a moment ago seemed to have disappeared. There was so much emotion there now, so much curiosity. So much interest.

"You're next," he said as the man in front of me wheeled his cart away.

"Thank you," I watched the cashier bag my few items before receiving my gift card and paying. The man handed me the plastic bag and I glanced back at the red head behind me.

"Well, have fun with your art project," he told me and I smiled warmly.

"I have no doubt I'll see you again," I said.

"No doubt."

"Until next time," I turned and walked out the front of the store.


	4. The Sign of the Four

Until Next Time

By Rikku Minouke

Disclaimer: Nope, don't have any ownership of YYH. 

Chapter four:

**The Sign of the Four**

**By Arthur Conan Doyle**

_Dear Hannah,_

_I do believe that was the name of Nancy Drew's "house keeper". Even though every reader knew that Hannah was more or less Nancy's step mother, just without the title. You flatter me though with your expectation of piles of fan mail. Maybe someday I will reach the level where I will be able to hire a man just to go through my mail. However, I am completely at ease with doing that myself. _

_Your mother sounds like a woman I would love to meet. Personally black and white movies have so much more character than that of new films now a days. Boy do I feel old writing those three small words. Nonetheless, I stand by that statement. It's hard to capture people like Audrey Hepburn, Gregory Peck, or Vincent Price used to when the screen would shine. _

_In all honesty, I am quite offended that you filter my work. How dare you take away my creative train of thought? I've endured endless hours of mental pain and suffering to produce every word, every line, and every page that you read. And you have the nerve to filter it so that third graders aren't a bit shocked or frightened?_

_Just kidding. _

_I completely stand by your decision. If I were in your position, I'd probably have edited my work more than once. And for the record, I am not offended at all. Please, censor as you see fit. I do not wish to scare children, only to catch their interest. After learning of your class tolerantly waiting for my next novel, I'm not sure that I can write all the gruesome details as if I had never known. But I would like you to know that I will do my best not to let that sway my writing style. _

_Also, I am very pleased that you enjoyed that short story and can't wait to hear from you what the children thought of it. _

_Hopeful for your reply, _

_Patiently waiting for the mailman to return_

….

The Picture of Dorian Gray stared into my soul as I read the back of the book jacket. I've already read it several times, however, I don't actually own this one yet. I do enjoy an ever expanding book collection and this was always one of my favorites.

"You know how a voice can stir one," behind me, his voice definitely stirred my heart. "Your voice and the voice of Sibyl Vane are two things that I shall never forget. When I close my eyes, I hear them, and each of them says something different. I don't know which to follow."

"Why should I not love her?" I softly spoke the next line of the scene quietly without turning to look at the tall green eyed man behind me.

"Harry, I do love her. She is everything to me in life," his voice felt so close to my neck that my throat swallowed against its better judgment. I just hoped it wasn't too loud.

"Well, I do believe that you know this novel better than I do," I forced a calm smile on my lips before turning around to meet his gaze. "Call me impressed."

He chuckled to himself, clearly satisfied. "I actually know a good portion of this book by heart, because I used to do readings of this book for libraries."

"What does that even mean?" I asked with a bit of surprise in my voice.

"It means that libraries would pay me to come in on weekends and read this book," he stalled on that thought. "Well, portions of this book at least, to groups of people to come listen. Story time, if you will."

I narrowed my magenta eyes at him, trying to pick apart his story. "The library in this town really does that?" I asked him. His head started to nod before I even finished my sentence. "And I've never heard of this?"

His red eyebrows raised slightly at my question. "I suppose so. I've been doing this for years."

"Hmmm," I bit my bottom lip as I thought about how I've missed out on such a fun experience for the children I teach. "I will definitely have to remember this. Do you have another one scheduled with the Carver County library?"

"Not as of yet," he told me with a small upturn of his lips. "Why? Would you like to witness me at work?"

My cheeks started to heat up as I focused on the book still in my hands. "Don't flattered yourself." I shifted on the balls of my feet as I tried to control the emotions clearly on my face. "I just really love this book."

"If that's so," there was a tone in his voice that made me hang onto the paperback a little tighter during his pause. "Then I still may have a reason to schedule a reading. Honestly, I wish more people loved books as we both clearly do."

"Clearly?" My eyes raised slowly to his. They took in his navy blue sweater and kakis. Coasting up, I saw the secure smile on his lips as he watched me with something in his eyes I would peg for curiosity if I didn't know any better.

A chuckle slipped passed his lips and my skin tingled from the sound. "We did find each other in a book store."

"Correction," I lifted one finger into the air between us. "You found me in a bookstore. Actually, now that I think about it…" I paused for a moment for the effect. My tongue ran swiftly over my dry lips. "I think you have always been the one to _find_ me. Pray tell, why?"

His left hand raised to press the tips of his fingers into the cotton of his sweater. "I don't think I appreciate what you are implying. Unless that implication is that I'm stalking you. Then you would be correct." The humor filled sarcasm in his voice made me bite my lower lip to stop from laughing. This was a serious conversation after all. "I did happen to follow you here from your house."

"But I came from work," I pointed out. "I left work at four."

"However, you had to get to work from your house," he noted and I rolled my eyes lightly. "I followed you all the way to your office."

"But I don't work in an office," I said, a bit taken aback, but still smiling.

"You don't?" he asked, his own lips turning down in confusion. "But I thought you said something about your department doing donations."

"Oh," I laughed at our confusion, causing his brows to come together over his eyes. "I work at a school and each department is doing their part." I watched as his eyes darkened while he stayed silent for a moment. He seemed to think about my words way too carefully for my liking. "Hey, I'm sorry, but I actually need to get home and finish some work before work tomorrow."

"Yes, of course," he gave me a smile that I didn't quite understand the meaning of and took a step backwards, clearing my bubble. "Maybe I'll see you again."

"Let me know if you happen to schedule anything with the library," I said warmly, hoping for the easy passing comments from a few moments ago. "I would really like to attend one of your readings."

"Will do," he nodded with that smile still plastered to his face before turning away. A twist of his wrist gave me a farewell wave as he walked down the aisle.


	5. Slaughterhouse Five

**Until Next Time**

**By Rikku Minouke**

**Disclaimer: not yet. Don't own YYH**

Chapter 5:

**Slaughterhouse Five**

**By Kurt Vonnegut **

_Dear Penelope,_

_In all honesty, you do sound like Penelope from The Odyssey. I can all but imagine you with one arm in the air hoping for a return letter from the Gods. It was an image that made me laugh for several moments. Growing up, I loved Nancy Drew, she may be half the reason I fell in love with books. Because of my love for the novels, I admit I always saw Hannah more as a mother figure verses a maid. _

_Maybe someday you will get the fan base I imagined for you. Although I may be a little jealous if they got the same reaction. I feel more of a connection with you through our few letters than originally intended. It's possible I'm just reading too much into your quick replies, but it feels as if you look forward to my letters as much as I do yours. Go ahead and tell me I'm wrong and I'll step back and look at this as platonic as possible. _

_My mother was an amazing woman and she would have loved to meet anyone who can appreciate Vincent Price like she did. We used to have a head shot of his in our house when I was growing up. Wow, did she love him. She used to joke that if I had had a brother, he would have been named after Mr. Price. Can you imagine him going to elementary school and during that project in the early years when you are supposed to find out who your named after, he goes up to them and says, "I'm named after the voice of horror. End of story." I laugh thinking about how uncomfortable that may be for a child to be named after an actor or actress. _

_You almost had me there. When I started reading that, I honestly did believe you were offended. How rude of you (complete with an eye roll). I'm glad however that you understand my reasoning and aren't really upset in any way that I don't want to mentally scar the children. Much appreciation. _

_I read the beginning of the short story to the children the other day and it was a hit. There were so many children eager for story time that day. It was a massive hit and I can't thank you enough, again, for sending that for the children and myself. _

_As excited as I am for your next letter, I will be out of town this next week to visit my father on important business. I hope to see the envelope waiting on my return though and I will try to turn one out as soon as I get home. _

_Off on an adventure, _

_Frodo Baggins _

…

My fingers filed through the hangers on the rack of sweaters at Ragstock. They were cheap, but on my salary, cheap was my best friend. Taking a disapproving breath, I turned away from the clothes in question. Across the store, I caught a glimpse of flame red hair bouncing in between the racks like a buoy lost at sea. The lilt of my lips felt almost mischievous with a hint of an emotion I hadn't felt in quite some time.

With my oversized yellow bag strapped to my shoulder, I quickly strolled up behind the tall man eyeing the flannel shirts. "It appears the tables have turned now."

His shoulders hitched a few times with a silent chuckle. "Have they now?"

"Don't make me question my current score," I tapped my foot to emphasize my fake annoyance. Slowly, he turned to face me and the smile that grew on his face when his eyes raked over my body made me bite my lower lip to control the beat of my heart.

"You've only approached me this once," he raised his eyebrows in challenge. "I have to admit, I'm feeling rather secure in my ranking."

I shook my head, feeling the ends of my ponytail swipe the back of my shirt. "Then you will be so surprised when I've won." Folding his arms across his chest, he stared at me without saying a word in defense. A moments of silence settled between us and I shifted uncomfortably. This seemed weird, almost as if he was playing a game with my hatred for silence. "So, tell me, what's with the flannel. I've never seen you in anything less than kakis and a nice shirt. New look for you?"

He let out a miserable sigh before dropping his arms and hopefully this awkward act. Stepping aside, he pointed at the red and grey plaid flannel shirt in front of us. "I'm supposed to go to the function this weekend. It's a lumberjack party."

"Lumber-" I started but he shook his head sadly.

"Yes, a lumberjack party," his fingers rubbed the material of the sleeve and I swear I saw him grimace. "It's supposed to be 'fun' and 'different'."

"Two words not in your vocabulary, got it," I said quietly and his head snapped back to look at me with narrowed eyes.

"Excuse me?"

Shaking my head, I refused to look into his eyes. "I didn't say anything. So, you have to dress up for this party then? That's why you were looking at this shirt?"

"That's what they tell me, at least," his jade eyes shut momentarily as if he was savoring the thought of skipping the party.

"I don't know, buddy," I shrugged one shoulder. "It could be fun. Will they have themed food and beer?"

"You would find enjoyment in such an outrageous idea." A blush crept into my cheeks at his comment. "How about a little game then?"

"You make me nervous."

His laugh did nothing to set my nerves at ease. Instead, the sound made my blood pump faster and my fingers tingle. "Maybe game isn't the correct phrase. How would you like to join me?"

"Join you at some lumberjack party for your work?" I asked through my dried throat. "Isn't that a bit…. Intimate?"

The smile he sent me said that had been his intentions. "It doesn't have to be. I don't know anyone there besides my boss and no one there will know me. This way we'd be two just enjoying the food and a good laugh."

Looking down at my roughed up sneakers, I thought about what to say. On one hand, the man who makes me weak in the knees practically asked me out on a date. On the other…. he was a stranger to me and who knows exactly what he has plans. "Well… I have a few conditions."

"I understand that," with each word, his posture seemed to loosen somehow. Almost as if he'd been nervous and stiffened up in anticipation.

"First off, I don't even know your name," I looked at him sideways, recording every little blink, every twitch of his lips, and every shuffle of movement.

"My names Kurama," he held out his hand towards me which I hesitantly took. My intentions had been to shake his hand like any other person, however, his grip was strong yet gentle and his fingers brought my hand to his lips where he bestowed the softest kiss that pushed my heart into my throat. "And yours?"

"Cheater…" I said under my breath. A little too late, I knew he'd heard me when he lifted his head and a smirk was clearly on his face.

"Hmm, is that foreign?" something in the back of my brain triggered at his comment. I felt as if I'd had this conversation before, but for the life of me, I couldn't quite place where.

"My names Botan." The blush on my face kept me warm all the way down to my toes.

When he let go of my hand, I struggled to not fidget uncomfortably. What the hell was he doing to me? I felt like I was in high school all over again. Oh boy, the cute guy just talked to me… tee hee….

No.

Just no.

That stuff doesn't happen anymore. Why did he set my veins on fire? How did he do that?

"Any other conditions?" his soft tone broke my from my mental rant.

Clearly my throat awkwardly, I licked my dry lips. "Yes. Are you asking me out on a date… Kurama?" His name felt good on my still dry lips.

His smile was small and soft. "Yes."

For a moment, I just stood there in silence and looked at him, studying him.

"I accept."


	6. The Jack Daniel's Six Pack

**Until Next Time**

**By Rikku Minouke **

**Disclaimer**: I hate doing these. I don't own TTG… I mean YYH. Jeeze, those letters are close on the keyboard.

Chapter 6:

**The Jack Daniel's Six Pack**

**By J.A. Konrath**

_Dear Frodo,_

_How was your trip to Mordo? I hear it's great this time of year, with all the Orcs and lava. Does your "important business" include one ring to rule them all? In honesty, I hope everything is alright and this important business goes the way you anticipation. _

_Don't be jealous of the others. The poor mailman can attest that you are in fact, my top priority. It's practically become an inside joke between Jorge and I now. We meet at the end of my side walk every day to exchange pleasantries and he hands me the stack of mail. Then he informs me of whether or not your letter is in present. _

_It's become an everyday routine. If you looked at this as an everyday exchange with the person behind you at Target, I maybe a little put off. I can't tell you that you're wrong. I don't know what to call what we have going on in these letters but it feels substantial to say the least. And I don't want to see it end any time soon. _

_On a different note, you can stop thanking me for the short story. I would send you more if I could. It makes my heart soar that the children loved my story. Your classroom seems like a place where I'd love to be. _

_By the way, it shocks me to the point of laughter that YOU would laugh at a child. Not just any child too. A child who is uncomfortable with their name; a name they are stuck with until the end of time. In college, I had a roommate one year that was named after Kiefer Sutherland. Very nice man, quite polite. It would do you well to know that he wasn't embarrassed by it, rather he reveled in it. _

_I feel like Mina when Jonathan Harker went on a business trip, that's twice now that I've been compared to women in literature. Not sure how to take that. _

_Awaiting your return,_

_Mina Murray _

…

My eyes were scanning over several documents at the cherry wood kitchen table when my cell phone rang next to me. Biting my lower lip I glanced at the unknown number. Shrugging, I probably could use a distraction. The area code was from the cities, at least then it wasn't a telemarketer.

"Hello?" I greeted as I laid the stack down, still eyeing the text on its surface.

"Is this Botan?" a calm and deep voice came through the other end.

"The one and only," I smiled to myself because I had a feeling I knew who was on the other end. "What can I do for you?"

"This is Kurama," he said matter-of-factly and I bit my tongue to stop my laughter. Of course, I already knew who he was. It wasn't every day that strange men call me. Well, to be honest, men in general. "You're stalker."

"Oh my, you did just say that, right?" I covered my mouth with my free hand as if he could see me.

The sound of his laughter made my muscles relax for the first time in several days. "It appears I did in deed call myself your stalker. Is there something you would like to say about that?"

Pausing, I took in a couple deep breaths to try and get my serious face on, but I ended up giggling. There I go again with the giggles. What was the man doing to me? Ugh! "No, I'm actually at a loss for words."

"Well then I will skip to the point," he told me with humor embedded in his voice. "I was hoping to discuss the plans for this weekend." Even though he sounded as calm as the President, I had a feeling he was overly nervous.

"Yes! This weekend," I said cheerfully. "Which night is this?"

"Saturday," he confirmed and I nodded to myself placing one elbow on the table in front of me.

"Perfect," the smile on my face probably carried through the phone.

"What's perfect?" Around the corner of the kitchen, my father shuffled in with a box in his hands.

"What is that?" I let the hostility in voice spike. The smile from a moment ago fell into a thin line.

"Excuse me?" Kurama asked and I realized that he'd been in midsentence.

Sighing, "I'm sorry," I said into the speaker. "Can you hold on a second?"

I hadn't given him the chance to reply before removing the phone from my face. The device hadn't even hit the table before I became serious. My jaw tightened in frustration. "Dad," I let my voice turn stern. "We agreed on that box already. Go put it back in my car."

"I can't," his voice was hollow and eyes seemed far away.

"Why not?" I asked, not letting his broken soul get to me. "What are you going to do with a box of aprons and baking stuff? You making Christmas cookies next year?"

Shuffling his feet like one of my students, he said, "Maybe."

"No you're not," I shook my head. "You don't know how to bake. Go put it back in my car and send Yusuke in here."

Sighing, I watched him lower his head and walk out of the kitchen in defeat. Shaking my head one more time, I picked up my phone from the table.

"I'm sorry about that Kurama," I told him.

"It's ok," he said with reassurance flooding his voice. "I hope everything is alright."

I let the silence settle in for a second. "For the most part. I'm spending my spring break in International Falls packing up all my mom's old stuff."

"May I ask why?"

It was almost as if I'd been rehearsing these words for the last 8 months. I've said them so many times to coworkers, to relatives, or to friends. "My mom died over the summer. She'd had a heart attack because she didn't watch her high blood pressure," I paused long enough to take a lung full of air before continuing. "I think it's time. Really. I think my dad needs it."

"I'm very sorry for your loss," he spoke the words that people seemed to have on the ready. But his tone felt sincere, almost like he understood loss from personal experience. "Are you packing everything?"

"No, just the things he doesn't need," I shook my head even though he couldn't see it. "Like her clothes are being donated or tossed. I'm taking her baking supply and my cousin is going to take her sewing equipment. Most of her books are being donated to the local school."

"You rang boss?" Yusuke stood in the door with his hands deep in the pockets of his Carhartt jacket. The dark blue beanie hid his jelled back hair.

"Sorry Kurama, one more second," I apologized. "My brothers here."

"Yes, of course," he said quickly.

Lowering the phone again, I leveled him with an angry stare. "Seriously?"

"He took the box from the car when I was in the bathroom," he matched my look. "Am I not allowed bathroom breaks no more?"

"We knew this would be hard for all of us," I closed my eyes and ground my palms into the sockets. "And we knew he would be sneaky. Are all the boxes accounted for outside?"

"Now they are," he nodded. "My truck, your car. Done."

"Alright, let me just finish up some of this paperwork and we can head out to Good Will and the school," I told him with my eyes staring blankly at my phone.

"'kay," he nodded slightly. "Say hi to your boyfriend for me."

"Yusuke, get out of here!" I snapped at him as my cheeks turned red. I watched him laugh himself out the door before picking up the phone again. "I'm back."

"Boyfriend?" his tone said he was trying not to laugh.

"Oh man," the redness came back to my cheeks. "I'm sorry you've had to hear all this with my family.

"No, it's very enlightening." If Yusuke had said those words with that tone, I'd have smacked him in the back of the head.

"Sibling banter," I rolled my eyes trying to play of the situation. "You can't take any of it seriously."

The chuckle on the other end calmed me with its light airy sound. "Anyways, I will need your address so I can pick you up on Saturday."

"Oh yes, of course," I shook my head to rid it of all the silly flirtatious thoughts that came whenever he opened his mouth. "I live right off of highway 101 and Lyman Avenue. I could text you the address when we are done."

"I would love for you to text it to me," he said. "And I will pick you up at seven sharp. So, be ready."

I laughed more to myself. "Alright Kurama. I will be. I'll see you Saturday."

"Take care Botan," he said and I knew he was smiling.


	7. The House of the Seven Gables

**Until Next Time**

**By Rikku Minouke**

**Disclaimer:** No YYH

Chapter 7:

**The House of the Seven Gables**

**By Nathaniel Hawthorne**

_Dear Mina,_

_Does that make me Jonathan Harker? If so, I wonder how my father looks in a cape. There's no doubt in my mind that he'd love being Dracula. However not sure about the relationship between my father and you. Seems awkward to say the least. _

_My trip went well. It was nice seeing the family again. Even under the circumstances of business. But a lot was accomplished while I was away, so I feel like my spring break was successful. _

_Can I ask what you do other than write? You must do something to pass the time. While writing, I'm sure, takes up most of your time; does it pay the bills like we all dream it does?_

_At what point did you learn your mailman's name? And I'd hoped eating was your top priority. Most days that mine. But I admit you are my second priority, over sleep. _

_I feel like you're right, there is something here. However, it's difficult for me to grasp the situation clearly when we haven't met. Almost surreal, even. As if this is all a dream and when I wake up, these letters will be only present in my mind. _

_I would like this to be real, but there are many doubts swimming through my brain. What if you're really a woman? What if our age difference is too great? What if we just aren't compatible in the face to face relationship?_

_I feel like Pocahontas waiting on Grandmother Willow. _

_P.S. You should probably work on dulling down your feminine qualities. Even though woman in literature are some of the most amazing characters, it's a little weird. Trying being more like Mr. Darcy from Pride and Prejudice. Or Bilbo, the only one to be able to give up the ring. Ponyboy even has an excellent character there you could be a part of. _

…_._

**Part one**

The rope laces in my hands felt frayed and dirty. As I tied them, I attempted to brush the dirt and salt that'd been caked on over the last year. Sitting up, I marveled at my tan worker boots.

Outside, I heard tires crunching the little bit of snow left on my driveway. Standing up, I slipped my wallet and phone into my back pockets of the knee length cutoffs. Balancing myself, I loved the feeling of the heavy, sturdy soles of my boots. My hands grabbed the tails of my blue and pink flannel to tighten the knot under my bust.

Opening my front door, I lost my breath in a burst of white smoke. "Holy crap, it's a limo!"

"Is it too much?" his voice drew my attention down to the man on my sidewalk. He was just as stunning as the limousine.

He had the blue jeans with a green and white plaid flannel tucked in. The black suspenders were my favorite part, by the way. His jeans were tucked into the tan boots and his red hair was pulled into a low pony tail. Honestly, I was saddened by that last detail. But the plastic axe in his left hand made up for it.

"Oh shucks, Kurama," I laughed and couldn't wipe the smile on my face if the world started to crumble. "You look fantastic!"

"I should be saying the same to you," he said as I locked my front door. "You are one attractive lumberjack." My face heated up at his words. "No jacket?" I shook my head as I met him at the bottom of the stairs. "Ready?"

Holding out his elbow, I gently slid my arm through his. "Who knew? Lumberjacks really are gentlemen?"

"Surprises all around," he joked as we approached the limo. "You're in for an interesting night."

"More surprises to come?" I asked when he opened the door and as lady like as I could scooted across the bench seat. The ladies around the world would be appalled at my attempt.

When he sat next to me, he had a devilish grin. "Always."

I couldn't stop the laughter. "That look makes me slightly nervous. But I'm very excited nonetheless." The limo pulled out of my driveway and we headed to the main highway that cuts through town. "Where is this party of yours?"

"At the Lafayette Club," he told me and I swear my jaw dropped to the floor. Literally.

"Really?" he nodded at my question. "You do know that to have a wedding there it's clear over twenty thousand dollars, right?"

"I question how you know that," he gave me a side glance as he reached forward and opened a hidden compartment. A breath left my mouth in a puff.

"Seriously? Champagne too?" I asked with raised eyebrows.

"The host is very generous," Kurama chuckled. "He's quite happy to be turning fifty."

Shaking my head, I took the flute he offered. "Alright, what is this function even for?"

"One of our donors," he said nonchalantly. "He's turning fifty and is throwing a party. So, everyone below him must attend and must be dressed in costume."

"Donor?" I asked and took a sip. Hot dog! That had to be some of the best champagne I've ever had in my life. "Are you a doctor?"

He coughed slightly as he tried not to laugh. "No, far from it actually. I'm an editor for a publishing company. The man throwing this party is more of a sponsor of sorts. He writes some of the pay checks but has nothing to do with the company itself."

"Gotcha," I nodded. "But an editor? That's pretty awesome."

"Thank you," he smiled softly. "I'm quite satisfied with my job."

My eyes scanned the town that I'd grown to love in the last five years through the tinted limo window. "Do you work downtown then?" The leather beneath me shifted as I felt the heat from his body press again my left side.

"No," he said quietly. "I can point it out to you here in a second. It's coming up here on the right. Just before Dell Road." His head lowered so it was even with mine and I tried to slow my breathing so he wouldn't hear my screaming heartbeat. He raised his arm to point out the building that I'd driven by a hundred times in the last year. How had I never noticed a publishing company there before? "Right there."

"So you are rather close to town," I nodded as I watched the building fall behind us and tried to swallow my nerves.

Lowering his arm, he didn't move away and the body heat he was transferring was making me warm up enough that I didn't regret not bringing a coat. "Yes, I have a short drive. I live right behind the Byerlys, off of Kerber. It's about a five minute commute then."

"That's not far at all," I said, excited for him. "In college, I worked in a book store at the Southdale Mall. That was brutal during rush hour. Could be up to an hour."

He chuckled lightly and I felt the vibration in my thighs. "At least you don't have to worry about that anymore. Which school is it that you work at? I'm not sure if you told me or not."

"Currently, I work at Bluff Creek," I turned to look at his face, deciding that staring out the window the whole ride would be rude. His eyes had a dark glaze to them, almost like he was lost in thought.

"Currently?" he asked as his eyes darted over my face as if looking for an answer for a question let unasked.

Clearing my throat slightly, I took a sip of the champagne, but trying to meet his searching eyes. "Yeah, they want me to teach first grade next year. And I want to teach sixth grade. So I don't know. I might switch districts if they make me go to a lower grade."

"That's too bad," he said while holding the stem of his flute between two fingers. The glass looked so small in his hand. "What do you teach now? Third grade?"

"Actually yes," I straightened my back in surprise.

"Wild guess," he leaned his back against the leather and I watched as his eyes blinked a few times before they returned to their bright color. A small chuckle shook his shoulders as he shook his head enough to sway his ponytail.

"What's so funny?" My eyebrows drew closer together as his composure confused me.

"You are an amazing woman Botan," he smiled when my name left his lips. He met my gaze and my mouth dried up instantly. Somehow the words he was speaking paralyzed my soul.

"Thank you," the words were almost too quiet for my own ears to hear.

The limo started to slow down and I glanced out the window see Lake Minnetonka in the horizon. "Are you ready for this?"

"I'm excited." I looked out the opposite window to see the bright lights of the golf club shining into the sky like beacons. I had a feeling that this night and this man were going to change the way I looked at the world.


	8. Henry VIII

**Until Next Time **

**By Rikku Minouke**

**Disclaimer**: I don't own YYH, sad face

**A/N: two things:**

This chapter is a continuation of the last one so…. No letter today. Next time.

I want to thank my few reviewers for taking the time to encourage me to continue writing this story. Thank you **Firestorm**, **xxBroken21xx**, and **chuyadud**. Thank you all so so so much.

Chapter 8:

**Henry VIII **

**By William Shakespeare**

Part two

…

My arm laced through his so that my hand was resting on Kurama's forearm. Slightly surprising, the lights were dimmed a lot lower than I had anticipated. However, the candles at every table brought a romantic feel to the occasion.

Looking up at Kurama, I let my excitement openly shine. He smiled at me softly. "I can only imagine the Benjamin's dropped for this party."

At that he chuckled. "Try not to think about it. Just live in the moment. I do at these parties. Who knows if I'll ever get this chance again."

"And you were the guy who didn't want to come," I pointed out through a smirk. My hand squeezed his forearm playfully and I inwardly groaned. The muscles under his arm skin were taunt and begging to hold me.

"I never said I didn't want to go," he said and I raised my eyebrows in disbelief. "I'm just not one for costume parties."

"Oh my!" I exclaimed as we approached a snack table. "Themed food! Sorry for cutting you off Kurama, but… log pretzels! And look at these adorable cookies." I had to pick one up. The sugar cookie looked just like a pancake covered in syrup with a slice of butter on top.

"There's also the s'mores on a stick," his free hand picked up a stick from the log stand.

"Is it just a marshmallow dipped in chock with graham cracker crumbs?" I asked, watching him take a bite. It looked so good.

"Yes, but it's still warm," he informed me and I had to take a bite of my cookie. The sooner I ate that, the sooner I could have a marshmallow. "There looks like a few more tables around this room with food."

"By the end of the night, we must…" I held up my cookie like it was an extension of my finger. "And that's a must, MUST hit all of them. "

"I rather enjoy this plan," he laughed before taking another bite.

After eating half of my cookie, I started to look around again at our setting. We definitely hadn't been the first to show up, but I had a feeling we wouldn't be last. "There is so much plaid in here. I just don't know what to do with myself."

"You are part of that bandwagon," he nodded at my own attire and I grimaced.

"Touché," I acknowledged while still scanning my surroundings. "This place is rather full. How big is your company?"

Kurama swallowed his bite and looked around. "I know it's not this immense, but I'd assume that he has a great source of friends and acquaintances that he'd also invited. Possibly even family as well."

"I'm surprised by the age groups here," I said to him as my eyes followed two teenagers, holding hands, as they walked through the crowd. "Pretty sure when we came in, I as a baby with a knitted beard."

He almost choked on his last bite of marshmallow. "I missed that."

Laughing, I shook my head. "Next time I see it, I'll point him out to you." Kurama chuckled at the thought and threw away the thin wooden spear into the small garbage can next to the table.

"Please do."

I took another bite of my cookie while my eyes continued to scan the people in the room. There were so many people and everyone was in costume. These were one of those moments that no one would believe me if I don't take pictures But I had no doubt that there would be plenty of time for that later, when everyone had arrived.

"Would you care to walk around and see what else is here?" Kurama's words broke me from my in depth thought process about lumberjacks.

"Yes, I would love that," I smiled and looked at my cookie. Really there was probably about three more good size bites. Instead, I just shoved the rest into my mouth, possibly giving me squirrel cheeks.

Worth it.

He laughed, "Classy. Very classy."

I hitched my chin a little higher as I attempted to chew with my lips closed tight. Trying to save at least some of my dignity on this matter, I have to admit, I finished that cookie without making a mess of it.

Still worth it.

Wiping the corners of my mouth with the knuckle of my index finger, I watched the people in the room as we walked the borders. "That guy looks like a scrawny Paul Bunyan."

I tried to subtly point out a man to Kurama, who in response started laughing. Honestly it was odd to hear so much laughter from a man. Men didn't usually find me this funny. I was always that awkward girl that people just stare at whenever I attempted to make a joke. But Kurama actually laughed at the things I said.

"He is the son of my boss actually," he leaned over to send shivers down my spine with the whispers he produced in my ear. "And yes, that is a stuffed animal of the blue ox."

"Oh man, he even brought Babe with him," I shook my head trying to get the prickling in my back to ease up.

"Yes," he nodded understanding my tone. "It is a little weird, but his costume will get him noticed by the host. Which I'm sure is exactly what my boss wanted."

"Kurama," I gripped his arm tighter in excitement. Pros and cons there. First off, the pro was that the strength of my arm made me want to go weak in the knees and beg him to just hold me. Cons, I was about two seconds from actually doing just that.

Looking around, Kurama spotted exactly what I was looking at in the corner of the room. "That is a gigantic sculpture of a lumberjack."

"Not just any lumberjack," I shook my head. "But a Lumberjack at work. It's magnificent." Smiling broadly, he led me closer to inspect the detail done. "Wow, I can't imagine what this would cost, but it is just breath taking."

Silence greeted me and so I looked up at Kurama who in turn was casting those green eyes all over my face. The look in his eyes made me shift my feet and swallow through the dryness coating my mouth. My free hand lifted to rest on the top of my other hand holding his arm.

He blinked and I felt like I could breathe for a second. Breaking the trance, I cleared my throat. "Ready to continue?" I asked and nodded my head to the right.

"The balconies right there, did you want to see the view?" I shrugged at his question and he led me to the door. Upon opening the door, a cool breeze caressed the sides of my face and legs. It felt good though after the way Kurama's heated gaze raised my temperature.

Even the first few steps outside held a beautiful view of the golf course. Trees were scattered that had been lit up with white lights and candles decorated the few tables set on the deck. Hanging plants accented the walls behind us that felt awkward in this season but still were gorgeous. It was enjoyable to say the least and we had it mainly to ourselves. There was a group of smokers to the farthest corner minding their own business.

"Wow," I whispered mainly to myself as I marveled at the landscape. We walked to the edge and I looked out to glimpse the pond a few holes out. A gust of wind swept through the thick layer of flannel and conjured up a shiver I hadn't been expecting.

"Here," he removed his arm from mine and I encountered instant disappointment. Only to be shocked by more than the wind. His arm went around my waist, pulling me in between him and the bar, enclosing me in his arms. Biting my bottom lip, I didn't know what to do, so I remained silent.

Normally my awkwardness would cause the muscles in my body to stiffen up like a 2 by 4. Yet, in his arms, I felt like putty. Ready for him to do whatever he wanted. He was doing it again, causing my body to have unorthodox reactions to him without doing anything outrageous. The warmth of his arms around my middle coaxed me to lean my back into his chest until he tightened his arms around me.

Something about it just felt so right. The way he pressed his cheek to the side of my head. My hands resting on his clasped in front me. Our body heat merging into one. It felt peaceful and easy and I didn't want it to end.

The sound of the door opening to our left caught our attention in the quiet night air. When my eyes adjusted to the lights above the door, I spotted the scrawny Paul Bunyan from before. In his arms was the blue ox that Kurama had pointed out.

"Hey there Kurama," he said and approached us. I tried to keep my sigh as quiet as possible. But Kurama must have heard and tightened his grip momentarily.

"Hello Koenma," he nodded in acknowledgement. "How are things in there?"

"Well a lot of the older group as started up a dance floor," he gave a half smile that said he didn't want to be here either. "It's slightly odd watching a seventy year old man do the mash potato."

Kurama chuckled and I felt it rumble like it was in my soul. "I can only imagine." I shifted a little and I felt him step back from me and I instantly didn't appreciate Koenma anymore. "Koenma, this is Botan, my date."

Inwardly, I did a happy dance at the words 'my date'. Oh, I loved that sound from his lips. "It's nice to meet you Koenma. I rather like your ox."

Koenma gave me a warm smile. "It's nice to meet you as well Botan. I'm sure if Babe was real, he'd appreciate the complement. Well, I guess I should probably find the boss. I'll tell him you made an appearance when I spot him through the crowd of 70's going on 20's."

"Thank you for that," Kurama laughed lightly, but it felt more forced than the sounds he gave me. "Try not to get smothered in there."

"I'm staying away from Mrs. Robinson thank you very much," he gave us another smile and walked back inside.

Turning back to look at me, Kurama spun me slowly so that my middle back was against the balcony bar and his hands gripped it on either side of my hips. "Would you like to go back inside? Are you cold?"

I wasn't sure what to say. The options were being weighed out in my mind. Stay out here where I can use the excuse of him warming me up or go inside and enjoy the once in a lifetime party he'd invited me to.

"I saw a photo booth in there somewhere," he said and a smile lit my face before I even thought about it. Widening my eyes, I watched the smile grow on his face. "Alright, let's go check that out. Shall we?" He leaned back and offered me his arm again. Grateful for the contact, I took his arm and we walked back inside to hear Billy Idol pounding through the room.

I let Kurama lead the way to the booth in the back corner. An attendant was off to the side on a stool watching the dance floor. We approached and he gave us a glance before leaning against the wall behind us. I assume he's only there if people have questions or need help.

"Ready?" Kurama asked and pulled back the curtain. Nodding, I slid in first.

"I haven't done one of these in years," I giggled in excitement. The fingers of his left hand intertwined with mine, giving them a light squeeze. "We look at this spot here, right?"

"Yes," he confirmed. "Want me to press the button?" I nodded again and leaned closer to him smiling. His finger moved up to press against the touch screen and the countdown started.

Three, two, one…

FLASH

I looked over at him and smiled. "What now?"

His hand raised up to cup my cheek and my smile fell into something unsure. Something nervous. My eyes wide and excited, meeting his that were begging for permission.

FLASH

Leaning forward, I felt his head lower until his lips touched mine and a sigh left my tense muscles. His lips were soft and caressed mine slowly. Almost as if they were trying to memorize every second, every feeling that transpired.

FLASH

I didn't want this to end. I didn't want to feel him pull back, but he did until his forehead rested against mine and slowly my eyes opened to gaze at his. And boy did they shine brightly. No doubt mine were there as well with the adrenaline coursing through my veins. A smile spread across my lips as I looked at him and I was amazed to find there had been a smile waiting for me.

FLASH

"Please pick up your pictures outside," the electronic voice in the booth told us and I blinked.

"I suppose we should get out," I whispered with my smile still covering my face.

"I suppose we should," he whispered right back. "But first…" He leaned forward and pressed his lips against mine a little harder this time and quickly reciprocated. Just for a moment before he pulled back. My eyes blinked a few times before opening fully. "I don't want to stop doing that."

"I don't want you to." I said and was amazed at how quiet my voice was.

He did a short laugh before scooting back enough to lift the curtain away. "There will be plenty of time later. And that's a promise."

"It better be," I retorted, following him out of the booth. On the side of the box were the strips of photos we'd just taken. "Wow, these actually turned out really nice." I picked them up to look at. "And there's two of them. Good, that means you can have one too."

He laughed at my comment. "I'll use it as a book mark then."

"A bookmark?" I asked. "That seems like a weird place to keep it."

"With how much I read," he turned a smile to me. "It means I will have it with me."

"That was so corny," I laughed but my cheeks turned red. "But I like it."


	9. Number9dream

**Until Next Time**

**By Rikku Minouke**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own nothing. Notta. That includes YYH.

Chapter 9:

**Number9dream**

**By David Mitchell**

_Dear Pocahontas,_

_I'm sorry that my yearning for you is seen as a feminine quality. However, you were the one to call me Penelope. I could easily be more like Odysseus, doing everything in my power to get closer to you. But I did call myself Mina. That one is all on me. And I would love to see your father in a cape. There is no doubt in my mind that he looks just as dashing as Bela Lugosi. Can we just let your father's relationship with me hide under in the table please? It's a sore spot. Not everyone likes to talk about their past lives. _

_Its nice hearing your trip went well. Even if it took up your whole spring break. Did your family live far away? I was told that the surprise snow storm last Sunday made roads a pain for a few days after. _

_Besides writing, I do a lot of conventions. We used to even have one in town that I loved attending at the Arboretum. Sometimes I go around and do readings of my work at bookstores and then do a small signing afterwards. Minnesota really loves to support their local authors, which is great for me. I also like to help out a friend of mine that publishes my books. So I work for him editing a few novels a month. _

_Writing doesn't really pay the bills for me. But everything I do around it, I love. Maybe someday my books will be as big as Twilight or Harry Potter. Just with a different age group. Then writing will happily pay the bills. However, I'm satisfied with the fame I have now. I don't feel compelled to force myself into the spot light now. _

_I've actually known Jorge's name for a while now. We graduated high school together, back in the day. He is a very nice and loyal fellow. We were never best friends but we had mutual connections. Eating is a high priority of mine, don't you worry. But I don't blame you that it's your top. It makes perfect sense for any normal human being. _

_Maybe instead of this being surreal, we should make it real. I'd love to meet you. I am doing a book reading at the Carver County library in two weeks, April 3__rd__. Please tell me you will be there. Meeting you would be like a dream coming true. We could move forward from the handwritten notes to something more. _

_I feel like one of the Pilgrims in Canterbury Tales about to tell a fantastical story during this next reading._

_P.S. I am a man of 27 years and I am not interested in dating men. I have a Basset Hound that I enjoy spending a lot of time with named Jean Louise Finch, but I just call her Scout for short. My mother lives in Minnetonka and my father passed away when I was five. By the time I hit 40, I would like to visit Greece and England. Chanhassen was the town I grew up in and I have never left besides to go to the U of M for three and a half years, but still living at home. My favorite color is green and I love finding those hole in the wall restaurants. _

_That is me in a nutshell. _

…

The coffee cup in my hand seemed like the most interesting object in the world as I lost myself in the web of thoughts weaving in my brain. I could feel the thin cardboard of the cup sleeve slowly peeling away under my fingertips, yet I couldn't seem to bring myself to stop shredding it. Movement around me seemed to pass in blurs as my eyes stared unfocused on the brown plastic lid.

"Was the trivia that mean to you today?" his voice made my heart beat pick up faster. For one, the adrenaline pumping through my veins because he drives my soul crazy with emotions I can't name whenever he's close. And two, because of the letter I received yesterday afternoon.

I never thought things would get this far with Kurama. He was the mystery man I saw everywhere. While yes, I can't deny our chemistry, I still hadn't expected him to ask me out. On top of that, I didn't expect to have one of the best times of my life with him at that party. And putting the cherry on top, I definitely didn't see myself asking him to stay the night.

Oh, but I did.

And he did.

….We most definitely did.

But the man who has been writing me, the man that I fell for over paper, has asked to meet me. Do I go? Do I meet him and sit with him? Will he be as charming in person as he is on paper? Will he make my bones jump out of my skin with a single touch like Kurama does to me?

"Hey," his voice made my pink eyes blink several times, realizing I had never responded to his initial question. "Are you alright?"

Clearing my throat, I looked into his green eyes across the table from me. "Sorry, I have a lot on my mind."

"Well, the answer is false by the way," He pointed to the trivia board and I rolled my eyes.

"Yes I know," I told him. "I read Canterbury tales in college. I know they never reach Canterbury. I even had to read it in Old English."

"Then what is going on?" he reached out and touched my hand, causing my skin to heat up.

"Just work stuff," I rolled one shoulder. "I have a lot to debate about. There's a pros and cons list to be made along the way. They don't want to give me the middle school position. I can either stay at third grade or take the first grade position with a little bump in my paycheck. Not enough to really make a difference though."

"Whatever you decide," Kurama said softly. "At least you know that you tried to get the position you wanted. And who knows, maybe in a few years they'll change their mind and give you the spot you asked for."

"Maybe," I sighed. He was so encouraging. I started to feel guilty for the letters I had been writing. But I wanted to meet this author. Maybe I could go and see him. Stand in the back of his reading and not talk to him. I can watch and listen, but not engage afterwards. He'd never know I was there, but then I would have my curiosity sated. "Maybe you're right. I just need to think about it."

"Well, don't push yourself," Kurama smiled at me, his green eyes shining with support. "Do what you feel is right."


	10. Ten Little Indians

**Until Next Time**

**By Rikku Minouke**

**Disclaimer:** Don't own YYH

Chapter 10:

**Ten Little Indians **

**By Agatha Christie**

…..

I stood outside of the library picking at my blush red nail polish. My lavender jacket hung open now that the weather was actually warming a little bit more. There were several people walking around in tee shirts, but I wasn't that comfortable yet. It was only forty degrees. Give it time.

The reading starts in five minutes and I was sporting most of my nervous ticks. Deep breathing had set in twenty minutes ago when I parked my car. Shifty eyes was a new feeling for me that I couldn't quite control. It made me feel like I had something to hide. Chewing my bottom lip started last week when I had decided I was going. Only when I hit the sidewalk did I start picking at my nails. Swallowing the anxiety lump in my throat, I dropped my hands to my sides and squeezed them into fists.

It was time, I needed to go inside. Sighing lightly, my feet pushed forward and I stepped through the first set of double doors. I knew that the conference room directly to the right of the second set of doors was were the reading would be.

Several people came in behind me. Forcing a fake smile on my face, we greeted one another in the old Minnesota way. Nod, smile, and a friendly hello.

I watched them walk past me and turn toward the reading. They walked past a big sign that drew my attention finally. It was a chalk board with a picture of the book being read and in big letters 'Shuichi Minamino.'

Jeeze, this was really happening.

I only had a couple minutes left. Biting my lower lip, I pushed through the second doors and turned toward the conference room. Rows of chairs were set up facing an empty podium. Well, almost empty. There was a bottle of Ice Mountain water next to a small microphone.

Slowly I approached the back row and found a seat near the door. That way if I felt overwhelmed, I could just get up and leave.

Yeah, that's thinking ahead… coward.

I scolded myself for being so freaked out. It was just a reading. Honestly, I told myself that I wasn't going to approach him. My butt will stay planted in this chair and when it's over and people stand and gather around him, I will slip out the front door. And I told myself that once I reach the sidewalk, that's when I will allow myself to run away to the safety of my car. No sooner than the sidewalk though.

Off to the right, I noticed a woman about my age walk into the room. Her brown hair was hanging loose down her back and her cocoa eyes shined bright with excitement. If I remembered correctly, I think her name was Keiko. I should remember her name, I've been here a million times in the last five years.

She headed directly for the podium and my stomach scraped at the inner walls of my body, trying to run away and hide. Her finger tapped at the speaker once and her smile somehow seemed to grow bigger. "Hello everyone. Thank you so much for coming," she said and everyone watched her, politely waiting for her finish and let the person of honor approach. "It was a surprise to everyone here. One day, out of the blue, Shuichi called and offered to do a reading for us. But, he wanted it relatively soon. Normally I have to call him," she laughed then and I had no doubt a portion of the people in the crowded room were chuckling to themselves. "But we got him a spot as soon as possible. And so he's here with us today. Please, everyone, put your hands together for Shuichi Minamino."

The applause was generous, but I wasn't able to raise my clenched hands to clap with them. My muscles jerked under the skin from all the nervousness running through my veins. This was it and I didn't think I was ready. Shaking my head, I kept telling myself this was a bad idea. I just had to get out of there.

I was about to stand up, when someone in the front row stood and walked toward the podium. I was shocked into my seat by the brilliant red hair that I had obsessed over these last few months. My jaw seemed to come unhinged and hang open as he turned to face the crowd.

It was him.

There were so many emotions flooding my system that I knew he was speaking, but I couldn't make out the words. I watched his eyes scan the crowd until they landed on me. My heart practically broke my lungs, it was banging around so hard in my chest. A smile, like any other, broke out on his face when his jade eyes met mine. That smile was just for me and I knew it, but I was so confused and part of me just wanted to go home and sort through my thoughts in the comfort of my cat blanket.

Finally, my lungs sucked in air when he cast his gaze down at the book he'd brought with him. The words flowed from his lips, but I may have caught every seventh word. He looked so calm and peaceful up in front of everyone. The red of his hair glimmered under the florescent lights as it was a real flame in full blaze.

And here I was.

My hair probably had chunks of fly-away's everywhere. I had no doubt my make-up was not up to standard anymore with how my times I'd rubbed my hands on my face, trying to get a grip on things. The nail polish that I painted this morning, looked pretty damaged from all my picking. Seriously, I needed to get some control. Who knew what my clothes even looked like anymore. I, for one, didn't want to look in a mirror anytime soon.

I have no idea how long I'd been sitting here staring blankly at him reading. The plastic chair was starting to make my legs go numb though and I could tell some of the others were starting to shift. Although, his voice was like a melody to soothe my nerves, I still had no idea what he was even saying. I just listened to the sounds his words made.

The story he choose was one of my favorites, but I couldn't seem to put enough energy into that region of my brain to pay attention. All I could think of was … why?

Why didn't he just tell me?

Why did we go through this game if he knew?

Why didn't I see it before?

Why did it take so long?

They all really meant the same thing, but my brain couldn't seem to stop rolling over these questions.

Why? Why? Why? Why?

Shaking my head, I got some energy from my little fit of frustration. Letting a deep breath fill my lungs, I pushed off the crummy chair and stood silently. My movement caught the attention of a few close by people, who did their best to ignore me. Grabbing my bag next to me, I looked at the man at the front of the room who glanced up at me, only to do a double take.

I could see the glee in his eyes slowing dying and I had no doubt it might have something to do with the frown on my face. Silence settled in the room awkwardly while he stared at me as I stood in front of my seat.

People started to shift and take notice of me now that he had stopped reading and was watching me. Sighing, I shook my head again and lowered it to gaze at the floor. I turned then and walked out of the room.

Why didn't he just tell me instead of working up this huge ruse?

I just need time to think about things….


	11. Eleven Minutes

**Until Next Time**

**By Rikku Minouke**

**Disclaimer:** I am just a fan. I have no ownership of YYH

Chapter 11:

**Eleven Minutes**

**By Paulo Coelho**

…**.**

It had been a week since the reading and I've refused to go anywhere besides to and from work. Just in case he may be out and about, I didn't want to run into him yet. I hadn't been ready before.

Setting my glass of water on the table next to me, I sighed slightly. On the table, there was envelope that I needed to send. It felt like it was time. One week without a single word. I needed something. My butt scooted to the edge of my white leather couch before I pushed up to stand in my living room.

I blinked slowly. This had been a long week. The letter I was picking up felt so light in my hand. So fragile. Breathing deeply, I longed to feel the control in my life that used to be there.

This was me taking back that control. I had to send this letter today. Walking to my front door, I set it on the front table and picked up my jacket. My arms slipped in through the arms of the lavender coat slowly. Almost like it took all the effort I had for the day.

I was just finishing the top button when a knock sounded on my front door. Instantly, my heart started to run a marathon. Gulping down the pool of nervousness in my mouth, I reached for the handle and opened my door.

There he stood with his hands shoved awkwardly in the pockets of his charcoal pea coat. The strands of his hair appeared to be teased by the wind with a few strands here and there. But what drew my attention was the look on his face. He looked like he'd aged several years over night. Shadows had appeared under his eyes and there appeared to be a little bit of the strawberry scruff attempting to come in on his jaw line.

With a nod of my head, I stepped aside so he could join me in the foyer. Stepping in, he kept his hands in his pockets, probably clenched tight.

"Hi," I said quietly, not sure if I should look at his face.

"Hi," his voice was lower today than the last time I'd heard it. There was a few moments of silence as we both stood there. "You were leaving?"

Raising my eyes, I finally looked into the darkened green orbs that stared at me with what I'd perceive as hope. He looked so withered that I had to fight the need to lunge forward and hug him. "I was going to mail you a letter." I said quietly.

"A letter?" he asked and I pointed to the envelope on the stairs. Slightly he turned to where I indicated. Leaning towards it, Kurama picked up the white package and started tearing at the top.

"Oh… you're gonna read it now," I shifted awkwardly. "With me here."

He didn't even give me a response, just opened it, dropped the envelope on the floor, and started reading my letter.

…..

_Dear Kurama,_

_I am a woman of 25 years and am interested in men as it turns out. I have a black cat named Edgar who is one of the neediest creatures I have come across in my life. My father lives by Lake Kabetogama, near International Falls, which is where my brother lives. This last summer my mother passed away and it's left a big hole in my heart that I've done well to try and sew up the best I've been able to. _

_I actually grew up in Crosby, but went to college in Duluth, where I got a Teaching and English degree. Books are something I will always be passionate about and don't plan on that changing anytime soon. By 40 I want to be married with a child. Just one. One and done. _

_My favorite color is red. A few months ago I would have said pink. But then I met you. And I can't help but be drawn to red things because it reminds me of your hair. That is secret I'm letting you in on. I love your hair. _

_Last week you invited me to your reading and there was no doubt in my mind that when you saw me, that you knew. You knew that I was the one you'd been writing to this whole time. And I got a little angry. Probably angrier than I should have been. I admit that now. Maybe I should have stayed and let you explain. Maybe I should have stayed and seen how things played out. Maybe I should have stayed to see if you really did use our pictures as a book mark. But I was too frustrated with you. _

_I felt hurt that you had played with my feelings. But I've had time to think about everything. And now… now I don't care anymore. I realized that all a long I had hoped it was you. That every time I'd received a letter, that I'd read it with you in the back of my head. As if somehow my subconscious had been betting on you this whole time. _

_These last few months, running into you everywhere and communicated through letters, I feel like I've got to know both sides of you. The fun and adventurous side that took me to a lumberjack party. And the intellectual side that can keep up with me while talking about books. _

_And I love both of them. _

_I don't care anymore why you didn't tell me. I just want to be with you. The writer. The editor. The stalker. _

_With much hope,_

_Botan_

…_._

I watched him lower his hands and I shifted again. The silence between us was deafening. My eyes followed the letter as he dropped it to the floor and my mouth gaped open.

"I worked really hard on-" I started but his hands on my face stalled my words until I looked into his eyes and saw them glimmer. I had only a second to think before his lips closed on top of mine.

It felt so good to feel his mouth move against mine. Sighing into his lips, I leaned forward so that I pressed against his front. My arms wrapped around his middle as if he was my life support. The feel of his scruff rubbed against my chin in a foreign way and I could decide if I like it or not. But I didn't want him to stop kissing me.

"Botan," he mumbled against my mouth and I wanted to tell him to shut it and keep kissing me. "Botan." He said again and this time pulled back enough to stare into my eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Kurama," I whispered softly but I knew it wouldn't stop him from talking.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," he said and I knew he meant it. "I was dumb. I wanted to surprise you. I didn't mean to upset you."

"I over reacted," I shook my head slightly. I loved the feel of his thumbs rubbing tender circles on my cheekbones while he stared into my eyes.

"I was just trying to be romantic and it back fired," he told me and I sighed. "I had suspected it was you since you went to visit your father. But I figured it out for sure at the party."

"You're a real Sherlock Holmes," I joked and was relieved to see a small tilt of his lips at my joke. "Conan Doyle would be proud."

"I want this to be real between us," he said softly. "I love you. The third grade teacher, the loving daughter, the… the girl I couldn't stop following."

"Kurama, I love you so much," I smiled with unshed tears in my eyes as I looked up at him. He kissed me then with the passion they write about in books and I knew he'd be my happy ending.

**AN: This is it guys! Corny ending, but I rather enjoyed it. Thanks for sticking with me. It's been a fun adventure with this story. I loved writing every second of it. Especially being able to use my classic novel knowledge. I love talking about books and it was a lot of fun to be able to throw that in a story and make it work. My husband doesn't read so he zones out when I talk about books. He's a numbers type of guy. The horror…**

**Hope you all enjoyed this as much as I did. Happy Face!**


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Yu Yu Hakusho, Romance