I am back at writing fanfiction! This is a character study of Hotaru from "Samurai deeper Kyo". This is written so I can remember writing again and as a test to my skills. Please review if you have the time.

Disclaimer: I do not own "Samurai Deeper Kyo" or any of the characters.

The man that is Hotaru

Hotaru fancies himself as a simple man. He is correct. As he has stated many times before, he hates what he hates and he likes what he likes. He enjoys fighting, the world outside the Mibu clan's village and he has a thing for wasabi. He is indeed a simple man. Hotaru always speaks his mind, never caring for the consequences. Hotaru really believes he is a simple, simple man. That is if his train of thought lasts that long. But maybe sometimes the most complex things in life come in simple forms, he sometimes muses, right before sleep comes as he is lying on his bed. But the thoughts escape from his mind rather quickly and he soon falls into a dream-filled slumber.

Hotaru's face is blank, always wearing a bored expression. Somehow he is always blending in with his surroundings, never being one to make himself get noticed, something he used to do quite willingly, and now out of mere habit. His mind is also blank. For some reason he loses his interest for everything that's happening around him and he forgets even important matters. Some even say he is "slow" and "dumb" and other colorful nicknames. They couldn't be more wrong and yet Hotaru never really cares. He doesn't really think any of that. He is actually unaware of what people think of him. But contrary to what people believe his heart is not blank.

Hotaru's hair are the color of golden barley, they are feather-like and soft and tend to move despite the absence of the wind. But for Hotaru, his hair is the most beautiful amidst a fight. They transform from blonde to a fiery orange through the fires of his sword and Hotaru believes that at that exact moment he comes to life. Hotaru's eyes are the color of ripe peaches, and as odd as that may appear they strangely suit him very well; a small indication of the fire silently burning within him, some who know him better might say. His eyes truly awaken when Hotaru fights, though most think that he still has a blank stare, those who truly know him know the difference.

Hotaru likes to touch the tips of tall grass. The feel on his palms is more soothing and relaxing than anything he has ever experienced. It is something that belongs to him and him alone and his mind drifts away as always but when he touches the grass a smile slowly forms. He doesn't need anyone to touch the grass with; that is a pleasure he finds in his solitude. He also spends much of his time gazing at clouds, a very important pass-time he concludes every time. When he is with the Mibu, the only connection he has with outside world, with the real world is the sky. The sky, he thinks absent-mindedly, is always the same, wherever he goes. And he likes the outside world. He used to pretend because his brother doesn't. But that is a lie, and Hotaru knows it.

For Hotaru now understands what is important and what is not. He may still be simple and yet he knows how some things can be simple and important and complex and easy and hard, all at the same time. So important in fact that he trembles the thought of losing them. He is still simple he says, and he still likes to watch bugs fly high and low, and yet what he feels is both unexplained and complex and he is at peace with that. Hotaru's face may sometimes be as blank as a piece of white paper, but inside, hidden carefully, is a fire burning that can never be tamed. There is warmth that can never freeze and intelligence behind airheaded questions. Because the man who once imposed on himself a life solidarity, has now come to understand that he is at his happiest when surrounded by people. He is not alive at battle, but when he is drinking sake with the shiseiten, when he is bickering with his half brother, when he is merely enjoying company. That is when Hotaru's heart is really fulfilled.