A/N

Hey guys! I know its been a while, but here's the sequel-ish-thing to Mik-chan! Be prepared, because this story not onyl covers Hiei and Mik-chan's furthering romance, but the budding story of Kurama's too! Thanks to KuramaEnzanBlues for the idea-I was stumped until I read your review, and it inspired me. Thanks for the help! :D

Who said writers can't be artists too? .com/ I post a new picture every Saturday, from afternoon to late. :) Come see my amazingness in physical form! Plus a picture of Mik-chan! :D

Chapter 1

The low purring in the back of his mind was slightly tough to cope with, but Kurama had been getting used to it. Ever since the Dark Tournament, Youko had been gaining more prevalence in his mind, even able to take over his body at times when necessary. Like two months ago, for example. With Mikala.

Kurama stirred his tea silently, trying to think about something else as a deep pang ignited within him. He didn't understand why the pain, the longing, remained inside him. He had been careful not to think about it in Hiei's presence, but it was hard. Especially considering Mikala was always wite ofh him now.

Kurama flipped his kitchen light off with a deep sigh and pushed back Youko's perked attention as his mind filled with a picture of Mikala. He shook his head. It would be better if he tried to adopt the nickname Yusuke and Kuwabara had coined for her: Mik-chan. Her full name would without a doubt bring a stronger attachment to her.

Sitting down quietly, Kurama picked up his English book and set down his mug of tea on the beside cabinet. The lamp was a low watt, so a small honey-colored glow hovered around only the left page. For a moment, the warmth of the lamp brought a tingle to his lips in remembrance of the time Youko had slipped the girl a deadly kiss.

Minx . . .

Kurama turned off the lamp. Left in the darkness, he sighed and closed his eyes. Why Youko had chosen to be infatuated with Hiei's intended mate was beyond him. Sure, the girl was small and curved—delicious curves, child bearing hips—and had a talent for being unpresumptuous and spunky at the same time—spunk, yes, we like a challenge—but Youko had had more powerful, taller, slenderer, illustrious women centuries ago in Makai. Why this woman?

It had to have been her utter indifference towards him. Youko couldn't understand her lack of desire, her coldness, even disdain, for him. How could she choose Kurama's short friend Hiei over the majestic, famed thief of Makai?

It was a bit petty, but Kurama took a mild pleasure in Youko's defeat. It was time the fox be bent by it, so Kurama could take the lead again. This was his body now, his new life; it was time he proved the strength he had now was enough.

A whistling sound came from beyond his bedroom door. Kurama laid down on his pillow and dispersed his thoughts. That would be Hiei, coming back from another long date spent with Mikala.

"Fox."

Kurama paused for a second, assessing Hiei's closeness, before peeking an eye open. Surely enough, two ruby red eyes peered out of the darkness, pinned to him.

"Yes Hiei?" He sat up.

"Can you tell me about . . . prom?"

Kurama lifted his eyebrows and resisted a chuckle. It was always funny seeing Hiei embarrassed, which he had been a lot lately, as he was trying to learn more about the human world to better care for his human mate.

A disgruntled sound came from the recesses of his mind, so Kurama continued without dely. "Prom is an American tradition. Junior and Senior high school students attend and dance until midnight, drinking punch and other snacks. In the eighties it was also typically the night—" Kurama cut off. Hiei narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, and he continued on, opting not to mention the promiscuous nature of the night. "The night where boys and girls confess their feelings for their dates."

Hiei had been having enough trouble waiting for Mikala without hearing about prom's infamous nature. The fire demon hadn't said so, but Kurama knew by the way he caught him looking at her sometimes, like he was dying of thirst and she was the only cool glass of water in sight.

It was the way Youko looked at her through his eyes.

Hiei looked at him and stuffed his hands in his cloak. "Mikala's mom asked her if she was going. She said she didn't care, but she wants to. There was a picture of a dress in her mind." The demon pouted a little, still mystified.

"Ah, yes, the dress. Prom is the night most human girls look forward to for years. Part of it is the dress, usually very expensive and beautiful, as well as a hair do and makeup. It's the girl's night to feel like a princess."

Hiei cocked an eyebrow, but nodded slightly.

"It's their chance to feel beautiful. Generally the man rents a limo and wears a tux—a clean suit—and buys the girl a flower to wear on her wrist called a corsage."

Hiei nodded. "How much money is left in the account Koenma set up for us?"

"Enough to give Mikala the prom of a lifetime."

Hiei eyes darted up. They held his stare, and Kurama's insides went cold. He had called her Mikala, with no –chan or his usual -san. He held his breath a moment, staring Hiei straight back in the eyes, and nodded as the eyes narrowed.

"Sorry, Hiei. Slip of the tongue."

The koorime folded his arms. "Don't lie to me, Kurama. Is that fox stirring again?"

"Occasionally." Kurama said. He knew better than to lie, but also better than to tell the whole truth. "But it's no threat to Mikala-san. I can keep him in check."

Hiei turned his back and walked to the dimly lit window. "See that you do. I don't want to kill you, Kurama."

"I understand." Kurama nodded, and adjusted his legs for more comfort. "Now, what color is the dress?"

Hiei glanced over. "Lavendar. Why?"

"Well, you're tux will have to go with it, and so will the corsage." Kurama leaned forward and smirked past the quiet grumbling of Youko. "How will you ask her?"

Hiei frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well, Hiei, the Big Ask is an important part of the Prom. Every girl wants to be asked in a big, romantic way. It proves how much you think about them." Kurama leaned back and smiled. It was amusing how little the Koorime knew of tradition.

Hiei leaned against the window pane thoughtfully, his heavy, bloody gaze set on the tree outside. After a moment, his eyebrows relaxed and his lips twitched.

"Tomorrow. I'll ask her tomorrow." He glanced at him. "I won't be at school tomorrow, so tell Mikala to meet me at our park after the dumb ningen teachers release her, near our favorite spot."

"Of course, Hiei."

"And fox?" He flitted to the door and rested his hand on the handle.

"Yes?"

"Reign in that thief. If he tries to touch her, I'll kill him."

"I remember." Kurama watched his friend leave. When the door clicked shut, he laid back down on his pillow. The slight breeze from outside his door told him Hiei had gone to do some mysterious thing or another for his mate.

It was strange how right the two were for each other. Neither were trusting by nature, yet they were beginning to trust each other. And Hiei needed a ray of sunshine to alleviate his misgivings about humanity, but not someone who was so bright they'd blind him. And Mikala needed someone steady, someone strong, to comfort her constant anxiety.

We could be that someone.

Kurama pulled the comforter over his head. Shut up, Youko.

"Holy crap!"

A crash shuddered outside his window, followed by a long groan. Kurama sat up and got out of bed. A female groan drifted past the window pane, followed by muted cussing and grumbling.

Female groaning. I've missed that.

Kurama didn't dignify that with a response, instead ignoring it and proceeding to a window. He ropened it and looked outside, on the fire escape. Though the night was fairly thick, he could make out what appeared to be a small body. Suddenly, a curtain of golden hair flew through the streams of moonlight, and a young girl stumbled into an upright position.

She stared at him. Her skin was tanned, her eyes brown, and her flat chest heaving. Her mouth opened wide when she saw him, like she might scream or perhaps explain why she was having a moment on his fire escape.

"Helen! Get up here, now! I swear I'll come down there and bea the hell out of that empty head of yours!" A masculine shout let rip from above.

The girl looked up, down, and then back at Kurama. She grinned and jumped into his window. "Hey, how yah doin'? You look lonely, how about some company?" She fell into his room.

Kurama looked down at her. Her skirt flew up as her face smacked against the ground. Youko began to purr.

The sound of heavy footsteps thundered above them. Kurama shut the window , grabbed the girl, and forced her to sit down with him, underneath the window.

He felt her warm shoulder as it pressed to his, her breathing heavy and damp. Her brown eyes looked like blobs of mud in the darkness, though her hair glimmered like strands of sun accidentally left behind in the night.

"So," She whispered, as angry footsteps slammed about outside. "How're you?"

Kurama glanced at her. "It would probably be more appropriate for me to ask you that."

She smirked. "Well, since you asked, I'm a little drunk and my butt really hurts. Oh, and that guy is my dad. He just found out I'm drunk and now he's definitely going to kill me. All in all, I'm pretty fine."

Kurama sighed to himself. Great. He had a drunk, probably underage girl alone in his room and a demon in the back of his mind itching to find out more about her.

"Perhaps we should relocate you." The footsteps had faded downwards.

"Relocate? Like, where?" She fell over and lay on her back. Kurama watched her face as it was illuminated by the dim moon. She had a young face. She was probably no older than sixteen, though she was oddly tall for a sixteen year old, so he left room for doubt. "So what's your name?"

"That's unimportant." He sat on his legs and took her wrists. She glanced at him funny. "Here, follow me. I'll get you something to sober you up."

"Last guy that told me that tried to slip me some drugs." She complained, but stood and followed him out of the room.

Kurama felt almost instant relief when they exited the room and he flipped the lights on. The girl winced and rubbed her eyes, but continued to follow him into the kitchen.

"Where exactly did you manage to find alcohol at your age?" Kurama began pulling out his herbs and a bag of coffee.

She plunked down in a seat at his table. "Want some numbers? I can write them down for you."

He glanced at her over his shoulder. She had her legs crossed, her feet on the table, and her underwear exposed from the tiny skirt she was wearing. A green tank top covered her upper half, though he spotted a red bra strap.

Red. Great color.

Kurama turned away, beating back frustration. "No thank you. I'm legal anyway."

"You're twenty-one? Holy cow, you don't look it. Although your shoulder are pretty wide. Hm. Pretty biteable."

He glanced at her again. She was pursing her lips like a fish and leaning her chair back on one leg.

"Careful." He said in deadpan. "You might fall—"

"Agh!" She fell.

Kurama sighed and blew a teaspoon of coffee into the mug. The girl groaned as he finished stirring and turned back to her. She pouted and gave him puppy dog eyes, which though they had no effect, led to him helping her up anyway.

"Drink this." He instructed, and sat down across from her.

She stuck a finger into the mug and yelped. She sucked on her finger and looked at him. "It's hot."

"Yes, coffee does tend to be served that way." He said.

"Warn a girl next time." She quaffed half the mug and licked her wide, pink mouth. "You never specified that it was going to be coffee anyway, Mr. Legal Drinker."

He sighed as she slowly drained the mug. "So what's your name?"

"Helen of Troy." She answered easily, and threw her head back to catch a few last drops of the drink.

"Oh?"

"Please, you know I'm kidding." She put the mug back down on the table and smiled. Her brown eyes glittered in the florescent lighting, her blond eyebrows almost disappearing if not for the outlining shadows. "It's just Helen. Well, Helen Yale, but you know." She pushed the mug towards him. "Thanks for that, I'm starting to see clearly now." She laughed through a yawn. "I can see clearly now, the rain is gone. I can see all the obstacles in my waaaaaaay!"

Kurama braided his fingers together patiently. She was definitely still drunk. "You feel better then?"

She nodded. "Yeah, thanks."

"Then we should return you to your own apartment. Your father will surely cool down by the time he gets back," He stood and went around her side of the table.

Helen looked up and scrambled to stand. "Wait, no! Please!" She grabbed him by the shoulders, her thin hands bearing almost no pressure at all. "Please, let me stay here tonight. Trust me, my dad takes at least a day to cool off." She frowned and blew a sporadic flaxen girl form her forehead.

Kurama frowned. "I'm afraid it would be inappropriate. Here, I'll go with you and we can talk to your dad together."

She shook her head. "No, I'm not exaggerating. He needs his time." She glanced down, bit her lip, and suddenly pressed herself against him.

Kurama straightened as she walked her fingers up and down the length of his shoulder. "If you let me stay I could . . ." her face paled somewhat, "I don't know, make it worth your while?"

Obviously, she wasn't sure in what she was offering, but Youko reacted anyway. Kurama felt his demon surge forward, nearly taking over his hands and taking the girl's slim waist. He forced it back with all his strength, and kept his arms firmly by his side.

"I'm not interested." He said firmly, though with a gruff undertone. He took a breath as she looked up in wonder. "But you may stay if you let go of me right now." That was the most important thing at this point.

She back off immedaintly and grinned. "Sure thing!" She looked him up and down. "You've got some serious sexual tension going on, huh?"

To his horror, Kurama's face flushed. He eyed her. "You may take me bed," he gestured to his room with his chin. "Now go to sleep."

"Aw, come on." Helen followed after him as he took her mug to the sink. "You have to admit you're feeling a little strained. I mean, look how tense you are." She leaned against the sink beside him, scanning his face. "Another girl?"

He forced his face to be calm and unreadable. "Helen-san, please go to bed."

"Helen-san? What's that supposed to—oh, my fried Daphni calls people that sometimes. She's into that kind of stuff. What country is that again? Uh . . . ."

"Japan." Kurama answered as he rinsed the mug. "I am Japanese. Now please, go to bed."

She pouted. "You find me really frustrating don't you?" She moved around him, and Kurama nearly jumped as she took his shoulders and attempted to massage them. "You're really not used to this kind of tension, huh? So it must be a girl you've only just met." She put her chin on his shoulder and smiled. "So who is it? I'm guessing it's not me."

Something snapped. Kurama pulled away from her hands, ducked, and grabbed her by the waist. Helen screamed a little, but he ignored it and plowed into his bedroom. He half placed, half threw her on the bed and stood back.

She lay there, wide-eyed and frowning, curled into a little ball. "Okay." She muttered. "Talking time's over."

He nodded. "Thank you. Good night." He turned to leave.

"Wait!"

He closed his eyes. Patience, he told himself. Patience.

"You still haven't told me your name."

"It's Shuichi." He said. "Now go to bed."

"Gotcha. Thanks, Shuichi."

He shut the door behind him and breathed a sigh of relief. His shoulders burned from where she had touched him. Why were American girls so blunt and bold? Had they no inhibitions at all? He had had girls after him at school in Japan, yes, but none had been so blatant or as casual.

He ran a hand through his red locks of hair. No point in considering it anymore, he needed to sleep. He had to get his rest to reign in Youko tomorrow. Without Hiei blocking Mikala's every side, he was sure to be wild.

Kurama went to his couch and lay down, pulling a small blanket over him. The darkness enveloped him as he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

A/N

Helen of Troy. Douche chick? Crazy annoying girl? Or perhaps the only female who can see past Kurama's mask? Well, we'll see. :P

Sneak Peek:

He smiled as she ventured forward and touched the glass. "What do you say?"

She laughed. "Yes." She wiped an eye and sniffed hard. "Yes, I'll go to prom with you. She laughed some more and jumped on him. "You are the most amazing demon boyfriend EVER!"

He wrapped his arms around her. "Glad you realize that."

She poked his nose and smirked. "And the most humble."

"Hey, you kids! Get out of there! That's a crime scene! Move it!" A burly police officer finally spotted them.

Hiei smirked, grabbed his mate, and ran off with her. Mikala laughed the whole way, music to his senstitive ears.