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“Here's what I don't understand. Why would he bother saving her if he died in the process?”
“Trust me, Hiei. There are reasons.”
“Hn, maybe for a person who's lived there. But I'd never do it....”
~
A soft chiming sound signaled the entrance of another customer. Kurama was poised on the edge of a high stool at the counter of the cafe, sipping calmly at his cup. The small vessel was filled with milk tea, Hiei's favorite. The drink was a bit sweet for the fox's taste, but indulging in the elusive youkai's cherished confections was one of the ways he comforted himself when Hiei was away.
“Hey! You're early!”
There was no need to glance over his shoulder, even if the young man striding through the shop hadn't called out to him. Yusuke's blossoming reiki seemed to be stronger every day, and it was unmistakable. Kurama had never possessed much respect for Koenma, but in this situation, the bumbling prince made a fine choice. It had only been three days since Yusuke's recovery from his fight with the Saint Beast, Suzaku, but already, he was more powerful than he had been before the battle began.
“I think you mean you're late,” Kurama teased, only raising his eyes when the boy flopped down on the stool next to him.
“How 'bout fashionably late?” Yusuke laughed.
“Sounds good to me,” Kurama said. He offered the detective a casual smile. “So, how are you enjoying your unexpected holiday from school?”
“Ah, I guess I can't complain,” Yusuke shrugged. “Though it would be better if my mom would stop bitching at me. She thinks my mysterious disappearance the other day means I'm going to start cutting classes again once they reopen the school.”
“I assume you're not much of a scholar, then,” Kurama commented.
Yusuke raised his hand and motioned for a waitress. He stretched his arms and neck, and sighed loudly.
“Yeah, not exactly,” he griped. “What about you? You kind of seem like the brainiac type.”
Yusuke accepted a paper menu from the waitress as she strolled up from the opposite side of the counter, and mumbled, “Hope this place serves lunch, I'm starved....”
“The lunch menu is on the back, sir,” the waitress said. She turned her eyes towards Kurama, smiled primly, then hurried away to resume her duties.
“And a Casanova, too?” Yusuke added, taking note of the tinge of pink saturating the girl's cheeks.
Kurama followed the waitress's progress through the cafe for a few seconds as well before responding.
“As for school, living for a thousand years has rewarded me with a wide array of knowledge. I also do my best to impress my mother, since she's always worked so hard to afford the best education possible for me,” he said. “I wouldn't want to disappoint her.”
“Uh huh...” Yusuke smirked and rested his chin on his hand. “Go on.”
“And, as far as your other question goes...” Kurama said. “I'm not interested in dating.”
“Heh, most people would call that a waste of natural resources,” Yusuke jabbed. “If Kuwabara had a face like yours, he'd have dated every girl in school by now.”
“I find it interesting that even after thousands of years of evolution, human beings are still limited by their basic instincts to choose the most attractive mate,” Kurama said. “In the Makai, strength is valued much more highly than physical beauty, at least by most.”
“Hey, hey, give us a little more credit than that,” Yusuke defended. “Human beings invented fast food and television after all, and, I mean, where would we be without those, right?”
He ordered a sandwich, milkshake, and a large slice of chocolate cake to balance out the meal, then swiveled on his stool and faced Kurama.
“So where's my favorite three eyed monster?” Yusuke asked. “Not plotting world domination again, I hope.”
“Probably sleeping,” Kurama said. “Being confined to the city is very boring for him. No matter how he may have complained, Hiei was actually eager to join you in Maze Castle, if only for a chance to test his skills.”
Yusuke snatched at his shake and took a gigantic gulp when it arrived, only setting it back on the counter when a fourth of the drink was safely in his stomach.
“Nice to know my near death experience was entertaining for him,” Yusuke said.
“He'll come to respect you more in time.” Kurama smiled. “Your triumph over Suzaku was very impressive. That type of determination is sure to earn Hiei's loyalty, even if he doesn't entirely understand your motives.”
“Good to hear,” Yusuke said. He peered through the door that swung open when their waitress exited the kitchen, hoping to catch a glimpse of his lunch. “By the way, how'd Hiei end up serving Koenma, and you got away with a slap on the wrist, anyway?”
Kurama coughed on his tea, and set his cup down sloppily.
“I'd... rather not elaborate on that, if you don't mind.”
“Pulling the wool over Koenma's eyes, huh?” Yusuke asked, then grinned. “Don't worry, I get it. You did what you had to do. Who knows, I may have done the same thing if it was my mom.”
“I appreciate your understanding,” Kurama said.
Had Yusuke been a dog, his mouth would have been raining saliva as the thick chicken sandwich was presented before him. Kurama had not been hungry when he arrived at the cafe that afternoon, but the appealing aroma and size of the juicy sandwich made his stomach growl.
“Is there anything else I can do for you?” the waitress asked sweetly, still focused on Kurama.
“I think I'll have lunch as well,” he said. The girl excitedly whipped out a tiny notebook from the pocket of her frilled skirt. “A chicken cutlet sandwich with salad and pickles, please.” She hurried to jot down his request, then beamed brightly across the counter.
“I'll have that right out for you,” she said, smiled, and rushed into the kitchen.
“Some service,” Yusuke said, his mouth stuffed with food.
“It pays to be polite,” advised Kurama.
“Pretty sure that's not it,” the Spirit Detective laughed. “Now, while we're back on that subject--” Kurama raised his eyebrow suspiciously. “--you said you don't date, so what's the deal with you and Hiei? The guy couldn't stop talking about you while you were fighting Genbu. I thought he was gonna rip his cloak open and have a t-shirt with your face on it underneath.”
Kurama stiffened. To choke on his tea twice would have been too unrefined. Instead, he swallowed the mouthful down painfully and closed his eyes. Feigning deep thought might give him just enough time to recover from the insinuation.
“We have a history.”
“Well, that explains a lot,” Yusuke said. “Though I can't say I pictured him as your type.”
The fox cringed again, this time at his own poor choice of words.
“I mean that Hiei and I knew each other before we stole the three Reikai treasures.”
“And when did Hiei go from partner in crime to 'Kurama's Number One Fan'? I got the impression that you saving me is what landed him in this gig,” Yusuke said.
“As I mentioned earlier, most youkai value strength above all else. Hiei is a formidable warrior, and... not to be egotistical... so am I. He shares the same admiration for me that I have for him.”
“Right, right,” Yusuke said, somewhat skeptically, “though, you said demons value strength when it comes to choosing a mate.”
Yusuke could have no idea how dangerously close he was dancing to the truth. He had no clue Hiei spent the last few months staying in Kurama's home, sleeping his room, sharing his space. Nor could he ever realize how many nights the fox laid awake, imagining his body entwined with that of the slender young apparition. He'd wasted countless hours imagining all the ways in which he could break down the demon's defenses to devour and dominate him, but always leave him craving more.
Yusuke did not know, and more importantly, Hiei did not, either. Kurama stared across the long, wooden counter with all the carelessness of a man waiting for his meal, and nothing else. He stared through the tiny window that led to the kitchen and analyzed the movement of the humans within. The tasks in front of them were all they knew. They worked, earned compensation, spent it, and eventually they died. This was the life Kurama had chosen.
“Hey, did I lose you there?” Yusuke pried.
Kurama turned gracefully and portrayed his warmest, deepest smile. It was an expression, he'd learned, that could get him almost anything he wanted.
“If you were youkai, you'd understand,” he said. It was a weak response, though he hoped the addition of the smile would add to its potency.
“If you say so,” Yusuke said, with a cool shake of his head.
The perky waitress set out Kurama's food in record time. Both diners wasted no time digging in, and had mouths full of sandwich when she laid a napkin by Kurama's plate and said,
“If there's anything else you need, anything at all, please ask,” she said.
Yusuke glanced down between bites and shook his head again, this time with astonishment.
“You might wanna take a look at the bill,”
Kurama eyed the napkin. Between the folds was the slip of paper detailing the price of their order, along with another, smaller sheet. The paper was pastel pink, adorned with hearts, and marked clearly with the girl's name and phone number.
“Girls keep getting bolder,” Yusuke laughed.
“Indeed,” Kurama said, and was about to crumple the sheet into a ball, when Yusuke reached out and laid a hand on his forearm.
“Hey, if there's nothing between you and Hiei, and you're not dating anyone, why not ask that waitress out?” Yusuke suggested. “Nothing worse than a missed opportunity, huh?”
Kurama hesitated, and turned the tiny pink scrap over again. The girl was still lingering across the counter, checking over her shoulder every minute or so to catch another glimpse of him. The fox tucked a defiant strand of his long red hair behind his ear and rolled his lips together. A false, shy voice left them a moment later.
“Maybe you're right.”
When he kicked his shoes off in the genkan an hour later and stepped into the house, Kurama immediately crushed the pink slip of paper in his fist and threw it away. Concealing pieces of oneself was an essential component to humanity, and after sixteen years, he was a master. Yusuke was barely an acquaintance, nowhere near being called a friend. He could believe whatever he wanted.
Kurama changed into more casual clothes and knotted his hair up into a bun. In his garden, at least, he could remove his human mask long enough to find comfort. At the back door, he slipped on a pair of old, rubber clogs and headed into the tiny back yard. On either side of the steps were large, carefully trimmed rosebushes that mysteriously changed color each summer and mystified his human mother, Shiori, to no end. Closer to the foundation of the house, where they were less likely to be stepped on and disturbed, where more fragile flowers, interspersed with some interesting selections from the Makai. He made sure to make his foreign blooms look enough like typical blossoms to be ignored by nosy neighbors and unwelcome relatives. Luckily, for him, they very seldom had visitors, excluding Hiei. But, the demon had made himself scarce since the battle at Maze Castle. Kurama had the house and yard to himself until Shiori came home.
He grabbed a trowel and rake from the shed tucked up against the tall rear fence, though he wouldn't need either. Possession of the tools was yet another part of his typical human teenager disguise. Kurama knelt gingerly in the cool grass and laid his hand down against the black soil. In only a week, troublesome weeds had started worming their way through the garden again. A skillful surge of youki made them shrivel up and retreat, though he was certain the pesky plants would save up their energy and return to fight another day.
When he heard a neighbor's child emerge from the house next door and begin noisily rampaging around his yard, Kurama began pulling up the weeds by hand. It was Sunday, he had time to spare, so there was no need to take unnecessary risks. The fence could only hide so much, after all. He plucked the sprigs of green up one by one, mindful of the delicate, slender stems of his flowers. Unknowing ants skittered across his hand and away as he worked, reminding him bitterly of the human workers at the cafe.
Kurama had toiled just long enough to work up a light sweat, when he encountered an atypically sturdy weed. He tugged roughly at the stalk, and found it refused to budge. He wrapped both hands around the base of the plant, kneading his knuckles into the dirt, and gave one, hearty yank. As he did, he found, oddly enough, that a long blue ribbon and thick roll of parchment came up along with it like the tail of some demented kite. Not only was the discovery out of place, it stank of magic, and the peculiar flicker of an object that had very recently passed between worlds.
He sighed and unrolled the dirty letter.
“Attention: Kurama
Yo! How did you like that little trick? I noticed you have your bedroom warded against me now, so I had to find alternative means to deliver this message. The secrecy is very suspicious, if you ask me, but that's not why I'm contacting you.
Please confer with me in Spirit World at your earliest convenience. I have important information which you will find of interest. Also, if Hiei comes poking around later tonight, as I'm sure he will, don't encourage his curiosity. Send him directly to Yusuke. Though you're no longer officially tied to him, he seems inclined to take your advice. Also very suspicious.
Sincerely,
Number One, Super Cool, Crowned Prince of Spirit World,
KOENMA”
Kurama hung his head and frowned mildly at Koenma's annoying penchant for theatrics, then set the letter down on the lawn. He would ignore the request for now, and finish his gardening. Koenma summoning him to Spirit World could only mean he and his new allies were already being plunged into another mission that would likely put all their lives at risk, and he was simply too worn out to consider the inevitable bloodshed. The presence of the letter did hold the promise of at least one positive occurrence, though. Hiei was not one to waste time. If Koenma had even the slightest inkling that the demon would seek Kurama's guidance, he would be rapping on the bedroom window before the night's end.
That evening, at dinner, Shiori demonstrated her extraordinary talent for accidental mind reading when she set down her chopsticks and asked,
“Have you heard from Hiei since he went home?”
Kurama took a small slurp of soup and lifted his eyes to meet hers. Shiori had been made to believe Hiei, like her son, was a student, and that his recent stay had been the result of a botched arrangement with a local host family. In spite of her profound ignorance concerning the apparition's true identity, Shiori was the only one who had seen through Kurama's painfully maintained shell and spied his true feelings for the other boy. Sometimes, the fox wondered if his mother's surprising insight and refreshing frankness were the only elements of his human life that kept him from going completely insane.
“Actually, I heard from him just the other day,” he said. “He's doing well. He's even made some new friends already.”
The statement was not a complete lie. Hiei was perfectly intact, and though Yusuke and Kuwabara weren't exactly friends, they weren't enemies, either.
“I'm so glad,” she responded, then sighed deeply. “Oh, I hope he doesn't stay away for too long. I miss the brightness that lit up your face when he was around.”
“Mother, I'll be fine,” Kurama said, trying to ignore the sting her words brought with them. “I'm sure I'll be seeing Hiei again soon.”
He was right.
That evening just before midnight, he heard a sharp knock on the window pane, and the creak of the window opening before he even responded. Hiei stepped through and hopped into the room. The fact that he remembered to slip off his boots and line them up on the sill brought a smile to Kurama's face.
“Yes, Hiei, of course you can come in. Thank you for asking,” he joked.
The demon's head fell to the side with annoyance and he glared lightly.
“Busy?” he asked, forcing something resembling courtesy from his lips.
“No,” Kurama said, warmly.
“Shiori?”
“Asleep.”
“Good.”
“What brings you here?” Kurama asked from the desk chair in which he was seated.
Hiei sat on the bed, facing Kurama, and crossed his legs neatly.
“Koenma ordered me to his office today,” Hiei said.
“Interesting,” Kurama said. He recalled the vague, but oddly telling letter that appeared in his garden that afternoon. Koenma had conspicuously avoided giving away much detail, which meant he thought he was one step ahead of both of them. That belief might be true in Hiei's case, but the kitsune was not so easily taken. He would find out what he needed to know long before he set foot in Spirit World. “What did he want?”
“He gave me this,” Hiei announced, before pulling a black video cassette from his cloak and displaying it in the dim light of the desk lamp. “He demanded that I give it to Yusuke.”
“Very curious,” Kurama said, with just enough confusion in his voice to relay an air of total bewilderment. “Do you know what it is?”
Hiei turned the tape over in his hand and examined it, then smirked.
“I do know, though Koenma seemed like he was counting on the misguided assumption that I didn't,” he said.
“So, if you know what it is, then you can probably already anticipate my next question,” Kurama said. “Do you plan to watch it before you give it to Yusuke?”
Hiei's smirk darkened to a wide, nefarious grin as he rested his elbows on his knees and propped his chin up on his fist, still waving the cassette in his free hand.
“What do you think?”
~
“Have you sent him?” Kurama asked the next morning, after committing the outrageous act of neglecting to tell Koenma he had already conferred with Hiei the night before.
“Yes... Yusuke should be getting the tape right now, so we can only pray things happen as planned.” The pint sized ruler slumped back in his chair, suckling on his pacifier nervously.
“Do you think Hiei suspects anything?” Kurama inquired further, fabulously maintaining his play at innocence.
“Probably... but he's still far from the truth, I think. Maybe you should have accompanied him to be sure.”
“I believe we'll be all right. Hiei may sense something is wrong, but he'll leave Yusuke to fix it.”
“Mmm... I hope you're right.”
Of course Kurama was right, but not in the way Koenma assumed. Hiei would already be on his way, stalking the Spirit Detective through the city on the path to save his sister, as was his prerogative.