Title: Black Roses
Author: Ugly.Beautiful
Genre: Angst / Romance
Rating: T
Pairing: Yoko x OC
Spoilers: What happened to our dear kitsune… sort of.
Summary: I put flowers on his grave. Roses, because he loved them. Black, because I hated him.
Word Count: 685
Warnings: More angst than should be legal.

Disclaimer: If YuYu Hakusho were mine, several of the major characters, including Yoko, would be locked up in my closet. And since my closet is only full of clothes and shoes, you can rest assured that it is not mine.

It had been ten years. Ten years. Of course, to a demon who had the capacity to live forever, ten years was not really so long a time. But to a demon that was angry with a person they could not yell at, well, ten years was an excruciatingly irritating amount of time.

As a demon with both of those qualities, I found it difficult to stay away from the man who held my anger for very much longer than ten years. I screamed myself hoarse at him. But bone and dirt are not very good arguing partners.

The tombstone was a simple thing, really. Showing no clue of what a greedy, hoarding thief he had been in real life. Truthfully, he probably should have been buried in a tomb filled to the brim with all the shiny and priceless trinkets he had stolen. But that was not how he was buried. A simple stone headstone, which read, "King Of Thieves" in chipped letters. It was decrepit and looked older than it was, partially due to the ridiculously harsh conditions of Demon world and partially due to the fact that I hadn't visited since the Spirit World Special Ops had rudely tossed his body into a crudely dug ditch.

I was angry with him then and I am still angry with him now.

He left me. He left me. Me! He told me he would be there always. But the minute those thieving eyes had sighted that diamond choker, he was off before you could say, "Steal." Of course, the King of Spirit World had removed the necklace from his vaults as part of an easily deductible trap to ensnare the fox, but could he see that? No. Too blinded by shimmering jewels he had walked straight into that cocky Spirit World Special Ops detective and ka-boom. Yoko was no more.

I twirled the flowers I was holding around in my hands as I contemplated his grave. Pressing the top of the bouquet to my chin, I pursed my lips. This was ridiculous. I knew I should move on. Moping was all well and good if you were human, but I couldn't angst for eternity. I was not a child.

Though, I wasn't anything important either. Much to the anger of Yoko's many fangirls. How spiteful they were when they found out the great Yoko Kurama, King of Thieves, was courting me. Me. Poor, weak fire apparition that I was. Who couldn't use a sword. Whose only redeeming quality was my penchant for big, fiery explosions (oh so helpful on Yoko's quiet thieving missions) and my glinting silver eyes.

I smiled. Yoko said it was my eyes that drew him to me. The total opposite of his golden ones. The lot of good my lovely eyes did him. All the pleading in the world couldn't stop him from going after that damned piece of jewelry.

"You idiot," I said. "What the hell were you thinking? It was probably something stupid. Were you going to give it to me, Yoko? Keep it in your vault? Anyone with eyes could see it was a trap! But you were greedy! So quick to prove yourself as the King of Thieves! And look at you now!" My arm swept over the grave in a short, jerky motion, flower petals fluttering to the ground. "Some palace, King of Thieves, some kingdom." The roses were tossed into the dirt before me.

I shook my head. "We could have been happy together, Yoko." I stared blankly at the flowers before his tombstone. I had been unable to stop myself from buying roses. I'd lost count of the number of times I'd seen him whip a rose out of his silver hair, whether for a fight or just to be cute. But I did manage to find black roses, a last show of defiance at how angry I was at him; at how much I hated him for leaving him. At least they were black roses.

Black roses for the thief who stole my heart. Black roses for the demon who break it.

A/N: O.o I gotta stop writing angsting one-shots.

Point of this being… You're crazy if you think that sexy fox went through all those years without a woman who loved him, and who he possibly loved back. Course, the whole putting his soul into a human and being semi-reincarnated thing would probably have screwed all that up now wouldn't it?

And I actually like this one for some reason. Review… please?