Warning: Double death fic. Boy love. Suicide. Yeah.

Disclaimer: Yu Yu Hakusho and Radiohead aren't mine. Damn I'd be happy if they were,

though.

This fic is to the tune of "Exit Music (For A Film)" by Radiohead. Just writing it to

get my mind off of my other fic. (so that I can have fresh thoughts and finish it later)

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Red hair spilled across the pillow.

He stared at the ceiling, lost in thought.

How had this happened?

A week ago, everything had been fine. He and Hiei had been together for a year now,

almost. Hiei came to him at night, when everyone was asleep. They talked, usually.

Sometimes they made love; a quiet, soft, loving kind of love. Most nights they lay

in each other's arms, just quietly being together recognizing the bond between them

was stronger than words. Everything seemed so perfect. Too perfect.

A week ago, Kurama's stepfather heard Hiei coming in. He'd rushed into Kurama's room,

but Hiei had disappeared. Kurama had stared at the man, who held a shotgun in his hand.

He'd decided to be open with his family about his love.

Hiei had come to dinner. There'd been a questioning silence. No one in the small

family had ever met the demon before. He was on his best behavior that night, knowing

how important it was for Kurama that his family accepted him. Kurama had been relieved.

Things looked like they would be all right. He'd quietly explained to them that he was

gay. That he and Hiei had been together for a year now, and they were in love. His

mother had smiled encouragingly at him. He loved his mother so. His stepfather, though…

he'd stood, he'd grabbed Hiei, he'd lifted him into the air and shaken him. Hiei had

shown such wonderful self-control in just accepting it, knowing the human hadn't a

chance against him if he retaliated.

That was before his headband fell off from the shaking. His Jagan eye was revealed to

the whole family. Kurama's stepfather had dropped him, backing up a step. His mother's

eyes had gone wide. He'd stared at his lap as he explained the other half of his

secrets. He was a demon. Hiei was a demon. The missions, the lies, the truth about

how Shiori had been saved… It was all too much. Shiori just stared at him in shock.

His stepfather picked Hiei up and threw him out the front door, locking it behind him.

Kurama stared. He backhanded the redheaded boy across the face, then picked him up by

the throat, marching him up to his room.

"Not in my house! NOT IN MY HOUSE!" he kept screaming as the boy struggled for air. He

couldn't hurt his mother's love. When he was thrown into his room, he just lay there,

gasping for air. The door was slammed, locked from the outside. He'd gone to bed,

praying it was all a nightmare. The night couldn't have seriously taken such a turn for

the worse. It couldn't have.

The next morning the bars were installed over his window. Hiei watched from the street

as it happened, catching Kurama's gaze. Kurama stared at him, tears in his eyes.

Every day, his friends gathered on the lawn, screaming at the house. Pleading for them

to let Kurama out. Yuuske, Kuwabara, Keiko, Shizuru, and Yukina were there everyday.

Hiei showed up the first day, and Kurama's stepfather threatened him with the shotgun.

When the police finally came to see what was going on, he told them his son was

grounded, and that these kids wouldn't get off his lawn. They were all threatened with

juvenile detention, and they left slowly, staring at Kurama's window as the walked.

Hiei tried to come by in the middle of the night that first night, to just look at him

while he slept, but he'd been chased off again, cursing the laws that bound him to

protect the humans.

His brother couldn't understand why this was happening. Every day when his parents were

at work, he would slip candy and comics under the door. He slipped his small juice

boxes from his school lunch under too, after Kurama told him he hadn't had anything to

drink in days. He was so sweet to him it made him cry. He had no interest in the comics,

but he knew Suuichi thought he was doing the most generous thing in the world, and he

would exclaim over them the whole time he was there.

This couldn't be happening.

But it was.

Kurama continued to stare at the ceiling. Tears fell from his eyes. He couldn't

retaliate, he was too powerful, his mother would be terrified of him forever. He

couldn't see Hiei. Hiei would have no idea what that shotgun was capable of until it

was too late. Or he would hurt his stepfather and be imprisoned. He wouldn't let that

happen, not on his accord.

He couldn't live like this. There was no foreseeable respite from his stepfather's

wrath.

He just had the ceiling to stare about, his love to dream about, for the rest of his

days.

He couldn't do it, he decided finally. The next morning, he would end it all if

nothing changed. Hiei would disapprove. It wasn't the honorable thing to do. But his

heart hurt. He longed to hold his love's hand, to touch his fingers, anything. He would

end his life, and end the torment everyone was enduring on his behalf.

His eyes slid shut slowly as he curled up, resting his head on his arm.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wake... from your sleep

The drying of your tears

Today.. we escape

We escape.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He stared at his wrists. Surely it was not the best way? His pale skin was so smooth

there, he could see his pulse beating. His father would still be asleep now. Nothing

would disturb him, no one would see his dishonorable act. He took a seed from his

hair and grew it into a single, long, wicked thorn. He took a deep breath, then ripped

it across his skin, severing his tendons, severing the artery that lay beneath. He

took a deep breath and repeated the grim motion upon his other wrist. He sat, gasping

silently in pain.

Blood as red as his hair, darker than his hair, escaped his arteries with incredible

pressure, spraying. Then it settled slowly, flowing smoothly across his wrists. He

sighed deeply as his panic settled and a kind of numb acceptance took its place. He

closed his eyes, holding his wrists at a bent angle so that his blood would flow

freely. A slow death. Fitting for such an dishonorable move. He could save himself,

if he wanted. He could go back into the form of Youko Kurama. But he couldn't allow

himself. All of the people he had hurt. Hiei would not want him, not after seeing the

way he'd killed himself. His friends would have nothing to do with such a villain. He

felt like dozing off…

A sound at his window?

The redhead looked up slowly, staring into eyes as red as his blood. Hiei's eyes were

wide with disbelief as he took in the scene in the bedroom, a pool of blood over

Kurama's pure white carpet. The air began to wave with heat.

Kurama just watched, feeling weak now. It was no concern of his anymore that his lover

was angry with him. It would soon be over. The bars began to bend back and melt at

Hiei's hands. Kurama sighed. Now they would be in trouble again. He closed his eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pack and get dressed

Before your father hears us

Before.. all hell.. breaks loose.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Someone was shaking him. He stared up into Hiei's eyes and smiled vaguely. He wanted

to kiss those sexy lips. But Hiei moved away again, opening his dresser quietly and

grabbing random amounts of clothing. He threw some pants in Kurama's direction before

throwing everything he'd selected into a Kurama's shoulder bag. He threw it over his

shoulder and picked Kurama up, sliding the pants up his legs. Kurama leaned on him

weakly, noting his wrists were dripping on the carpet. He frowned. Why were his wrists

dripping? Hiei zipped and buttoned his pants, then lifted him into his arms.

"We're leaving," he stated simply, melting away the doorknob with a touch of his hand.

He carried Kurama out of the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Breathe... keep breathing

Don't lose.. your nerve.

Breathe... keep breathing

I cannot do this... alone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kurama smiled blissfully, loving the feeling of being in his Hiei's arms. His eyes

slid shut slowly, a cold numbness seeping across his body. His heart felt funny. Hiei

stared into his eyes, a slight touch of panic in his own. He kissed Kurama softly,

whispering to him as he headed down the stairs.

"Stay awake, love. Stay with me. Once we're out of here, I'll take you to Yukina.

She'll fix it. We'll be together again, love. Do you hear me, fox? Wake up!"

Kurama looked up at him through half-lidded eyes. Hiei headed for the door, but

turned at the sound of someone gasping behind him. Shiori stood, staring at him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sing us a song

A song to keep us warm

There's such a chill

Such a chill.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She ran to his side, dismay across her features. She noted the tears threatening

to fall from her son's love's eyes, and bit her lip. Her husband was about to leave

for work. If they were here…

"Did he do this to himself?" she whispered, her heart aching at the sight of her

baby boy in so much pain. Hiei nodded silently, letting her get her last look at

him. He saw the love in her eyes as she bent to kiss Kurama's forehead.

"I love you so much, my son. I'm so sorry… so sorry… you can only think ill of me

from this moment on, I'm sure. But know that I will always love you."

She looked at Hiei, desperation on her face.

"Can you get him to a doctor?" she asked, pushing him towards the door. Hiei nodded,

letting her hold the door open for him.

"SHIORI!" an enraged shout filled the air. Shiori froze. Hiei was about to run,

but realized Shiori was in danger. He couldn't just leave her here! He looked at the

unconscious Kurama in his arms, then back at Shiori.

"Run!" she hissed, pushing him down the steps. He stayed indecisively, frowning in

confusion. He couldn't just…

Her husband appeared in the doorway, the shotgun in his hand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You can laugh

A spineless laugh

We hope your rules and wisdom choke you

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hiei stared at him and the strange contraption in his hands. He knew it was dangerous,

that much he could tell by the threatening stance. He looked at Shiori, who'd gone

pale, her eyes closed, muttering prayers quietly and quickly. The man slapped her to

silence her, throwing her back into the house with the force of the blow. Hiei growled,

ready to attack, but realized he couldn't. He held his precious fox in his arms, and

if he did, he'd be imprisoned, and no one would take Kurama for healing. The shotgun

was leveled at his head. He turned to run.

"FUCKING FAGS! FUCKING DEMONS! GET AWAY FROM MY HOUSE!"

A shot rang out.

Hiei fell to his knees in the street. He stared at the sky in disbelief, clutching

Kurama to his chest. He couldn't speak. Something had just ripped through his throat.

It'd sprayed whatever it contained though his chest and the back of his head. What

manner of weapon was this that humans could wield?

"BREAKING INTO MY HOUSE! CORRUPTING MY WIFE AND CHILD! TAKE THAT BOY WITH YOU TO

HELL! HE IS NO SON OF MINE!"

Another shot rang out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Now we are one

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kurama's head simply… exploded. Hiei's eyes rolled to look at him. Disbelief coated

his thoughts. He couldn't move his head. It took ever ounce of strength he had to

hold it up. He couldn't make a sound as he stared at the bits of tattered flesh that

were all that was left of his beloved's head. His body was convulsing against his

will. Gems hit the ground, one after another, as he silently let loose every tear he

owned. His body jerked uncontrollably. Shiori was screaming hysterically next to him.

He couldn't take his eyes off of Kurama's headless being. She was screaming at her

husband, shouting at Hiei, sobbing, hiccupping, and trying to scoop Kurama's brains

and skull back into a pile, as if by doing so his head would reform. The gems hit the

street like a rainstorm. He slumped over Kurama's body finally, his eyes sliding shut.

At least he would be with Kurama, undisturbed now. Forever…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In everlasting peace…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The priest stood over the twin graves, surveying the gathered mourners. A group of

kids stood crowded around one of the boy's mother. The other boy's sister stood in

her embrace, sobbing into her chest. He uttered his words of hope and wisdom, feeling

that they were empty when his eyes rested on the father. The father who had killed

them. He stood, staring at his wife. The priest knew she'd called the police during

the ceremony and told them who it was who had committed the act, finally. All he

could guess was that she'd wanted him to see fully what he'd done before she turned

him in. He didn't realize they were coming. What justice was this? These two boys

lay in their graves, not even old enough to leave their parent's houses yet, while

this man stood smiling at their graves. The most punishment he would get would be

in the form of being pampered in a prison for the rest of his life. He crossed himself

against the evil that must inhabit the man's soul. Three police cars came cruising

silently down the lane towards the mourners. It was time. He preached on, determined

to give these boys a proper rest.

The kids stared at the man, a mixture of malice, disbelief, and loathing in their

eyes. They would not let his gaze go. He ripped it away from them. The police got

out of their vehicles. He still hadn't noticed them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We hope that you choke.. that you choke…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His wife caught his eyes. She stared at him with naked hatred in her eyes. He would

probably have to move out. Arms encircled his, he was tackled to the ground. Four

policemen were holding him down, cuffing him, reading him his rights. The priest

continued his sermon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We hope that you choke.. that you choke…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He looked up at the priest, looking for help from the holy man. The priest held his

gaze as he preached, and the look in his eyes was not one he would ever forget. The

promise of hell lay in those eyes. Stern disapproval masked his face. The police

beat him until he ceased his struggles. Still his eyes held the gaze of the priest.

He felt as though his soul was being burned. The police took him to the cars.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We hope that you choke.. that you choke…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Amen," the priest finally said, crossing himself again.

The police cars pulled off.

"Amen," the gathered mourners repeated through their sobs. The mother lay against her

son's grave, sobbing hysterically. Her hand was outstretched to touch the other grave,

not forgetting how he'd loved her son, and how he'd tried to save him. The two boys

lifted her gently and carried her towards their car silently, tears streaming silently

down their own cheeks. The girls followed, supporting the small boy's equally small

sister as they stumbled down the hill.

The priest stared at the graves and shook his head. He stared at the gray sky as it

started to spit fat drops of rain upon the graves.

"Even the heavens mourn this terrible tragedy," he murmured, shaking his head and turning

towards his own car, his coat flaring in the wind.