Like the Red Rose…

by Mayushii

All copyright materials are property of their respective owners.

A/N: Yes, it's a new fanfic. Hmm, the beginning reminds me a lot of "Miss You, Love You". Same idea of exhaustion, and there's even a shower scene. The main difference is that there is no real sense of relief in this story. In my other fic, Hiei could relax and enjoy bathing and eating and eventually sleeping (*cough*). Kurama can take no comfort here. Poor fox.

I hope you guys don't get mad at me for writing another fic. I really do intend to finish my others, but I just had to post this before someone else got the same idea. I've had the concept for this story since 2004 and only recently decided to write it.

Yes, this is the same story I posted a week ago. No one reviewed then, so I'm hoping a second posting will get a better response. I'll probably keep this one up even if it doesn't get a response, simply because I did work hard on this story and think it deserves to exist outside of my own computer.

Chapter One

The sky was a wash of blue-gray with traces of dawn's pinks and yellows blossoming out in the east. It was nearly sunrise, and soon the residents of the Tokyo suburb would be awake.

Kurama shivered, rubbing his chilled arms as he limped down the empty, misty road. He felt very foolish, hugging himself for warmth, wearing only slacks and a thin shirt. The outfit was okay for a warm afternoon, but he had felt the chill when he was sneaking out at ten o'clock last night. Why hadn't he thought to bring a jacket?

Careless, Kurama thought ruefully, but it doesn't matter now. He hugged himself tighter, though it was more for emotional support than for warmth. Just a little farther. Then I can go to bed. Warmth. Sleep… He yawned, his head throbbing as his eyes drifted halfway closed. Mm, I really want some sleep.

As he walked, Kurama felt a niggling worry that someone would find him sneaking back in. But that was just paranoia. He didn't really think he would be caught; no one ever woke this early. Of course, Kurama liked to be prepared for any situation, so he brainstormed ideas for what he would say if someone did catch him.

I went out for my run, and it took longer than usual. No, I'm wearing loafers. I just took a walk then. Or maybe I went to watch the sunrise…

He made his way up the front steps, teeth chattering and head pounding from sleep deprivation. Then he froze. He stared at the front door, dumbstruck for a few seconds. Oh Inari, he had left his key in… But no matter. Kurama gracefully brushed the oversight off. He plucked a stray twig from his hair and slipped it into the lock. A few twists of his energy and there was a click. Tucking the twig over his ear, Kurama opened the door and toed off his shoes.

Naturally, there was no one downstairs yet. Kurama padded down the hall in his socks and entered the room at the end. The lights went on and the clothes went off, quickly stripped from his body and tucked away in the shelf for safekeeping. Naked and still shaking a bit from his long walk in the cold, Kurama opened the glass door to the washroom and turned on the shower.

While he waited for the water to heat up, Kurama considered the stool waiting under the falling water. It probably wasn't wise to put weight there. He moved the stool out of the way, placing it in the tub. Standing under the spray, he began to clean himself.

As a kitsune, Kurama was quite familiar with the process of grooming. He didn't have to think about it, so he allowed his thoughts to wander as he showered. First came shampoo, lathering up his hair with sweet, strawberries-and-cream foam. After rinsing and repeating came the conditioner, but even the silky feel on his scalp couldn't draw Kurama from his semiconscious state. So his hands moved of their own accord, washing the back of his neck and throat, then moving down his shoulders and arms. It was calming, even nice.

Then he felt a burning sensation on his chest and stomach. Kurama looked down, startled. There were bright pink patches all over. Glancing at the bottle of shower gel, he found that he had used quite a bit more than usual. His mind had been tricked into thinking he was still dirty, and he had scrubbed his skin raw.

Frowning slightly, Kurama finished his shower and left the washroom. He dried himself off with a towel, taking care not to further irritate the skin on his torso, and tied the towel neatly around his waist. Collecting his clothes from the shelf, Kurama left the bathroom.

As he passed the kitchen, his stomach growled at him moodily. He had neglected it all night and now it was demanding some attention. Kurama sighed and kept walking. He wanted to eat, but he'd just have to wait until breakfast. In the meantime…

Kurama crept up the stairs and into his room. He dumped his clothes and towel in the hamper and picked up the carnation-pink pajamas that waited at the foot of his bed. As he changed, awkwardly trying not to move his legs too much, he remembered Hiei's words from so long ago… "Foolish attachments will be your downfall." Perhaps the little hiyoukai had been right after all.

Sighing, Kurama gingerly climbed into bed and pulled the blankets up around his chest. He lay one hand on the pillow near his cheek. For a minute he just stared at the wall, feeling the throb of his head and the ache deep in his body. Tears shone in his eyes, and he bit his lip delicately.

I shouldn't be upset. It's over. Everything's okay now. He was clean and warm, in comfortable pajamas and in his own bed. And he wouldn't have to go back for another week.

Oh Inari, I don't ever want to go back… He let out a quiet sob, a few bright tears spilling down his face. He never wanted to go back to that place. He hated it, he hated being forced to go, he hated the things he had to do when he went. But he had a responsibility. One day each week. That was what was required of him.

Kurama breathed in deeply, shaking. Just one day. That wasn't too much to ask. He breathed again and let it out slowly. It's okay. I can handle this, he thought as he breathed. Soon, he felt calmer. It was okay. He was okay. Really, everything would be okay. He just had to calm down.

Soft, pure light shone in through his bedroom window, and Kurama sighed through his nose. Dawn was breaking, and the things that had happened last night were disappearing. Harmless shadows chased away by the morning sun. A weak smile curved Kurama's lips at the thought. If only it were true…

As Kurama's breathing slowed and deepened in sleep, a sparrow landed on his windowsill with a chirp. The bird cocked its head to the side, looking at him for a moment, and then it fluttered away.

Shiori walked down the hall, slippered feet soundless on the carpet. She stopped outside of the second door. For a moment she listened, and then she knocked quietly.

"Shuichi, your father and brother already left. Don't you want to come downstairs?" A faint mumble. Shiori frowned worriedly. "Can I come in?"

There was no response, so she opened the door and entered her son's bedroom.

It was a large room, bright and open. The walls were a sunny yellow, the furniture pale and unstained. Everything was spotless and smartly arranged. The neatness of the room made the boy laying facedown, hidden in a tangle of sheets, look even worse. His usually peachy face was pale and marred by dark circles around his eyes. Even his hair, the long red mane that he cared for unfailingly, was tousled and unkempt.

"Mmh…" Shuichi turned his head, opening his eyes blearily. "Mother…?"

"You look awful," Shiori murmured. "Are you sick?" She crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed. Shuichi blinked when she placed a hand on his forehead, feeling for his temperature. Her eyes softened, and she turned her hand over, gently stroking her son's face.

"You've got a bit of a fever," she said. "Maybe you should stay in bed today."

"I'm not sick," Shuichi said, voice a bit raspy with fatigue. "I'm just sleepy. I… I couldn't sleep last night, so I stayed up reading."

Shiori smiled gently. "Well, let me bring up some breakfast, okay?"

"You don't have to do that," Shuichi protested. Shiori laughed softly, tucking his hair behind his ear.

"Oh Shuichi, you never let me play mother. Just once, I'd like to take care of my son."

Shuichi watched as Shiori stood up and walked across the room. She paused just long enough to smile at her son before closing the door.

Shiori hummed as she dropped dollops of batter onto the griddle and pressed the lid down. Leaving the pancakes to cook for a few minutes, she checked the water in the tea kettle and then went to the fridge. Hmm, she was sure there was some in here… She dug through the shelves and compartments until she found what she was looking for.

Shuichi is so polite, but set some jam in front of him and he gobbles it right up. My little kitsune. Shiori giggled, taking the jar of red bean jam from the shelf.

A short while later, Shiori opened the top of the griddle. Twenty round, golden cakes sat waiting. She had only just gotten them onto a plate when she heard the sound of footfalls. Shiori turned and caught a glimpse of pink pajamas and bright red hair at the bottom of the stairs.

"I thought I was bringing these up to you," Shiori murmured to herself. She smiled, turning toward the doorway to greet Shuichi, but her smile faded when she realized her son was not coming to check on the dorayaki.

He stood motionless, wide green eyes locked on the door. Shiori left the kitchen silently, going out into the hall. She was just about to reach out to Shuichi when a loud bang startled her. She backed away, half hiding in the kitchen doorway.

"Kuramaaaa!" a voice yelled. More banging, the reinforced door almost rattling on its hinges. "Kurama, open up! We have a crisis on our hands here!"

Shuichi moved toward the door, and Shiori blinked. What's this…?

"I mean it Kurama, Kuwabara's having a fucking nervous breakdown and I—" Shiori watched, surprised when her son opened the door and easily caught the fist that almost crashed down onto his head. "Oh. Uh…"

Shiori batted her eyelashes several times. There was Shuichi's friend, Kuwabara, and another man Shiori thought looked familiar. He was shorter than either of the redheads, with black hair combed back away from his face and large brown eyes. Shiori wasn't sure where she had seen him before.

"Is there a reason you're trying to break down my door, Yusuke?" Shuichi said, his voice oddly calm for someone who had nearly been beaten over the head. The dark-haired man, Yusuke, floundered a little before jerking his fist from Shuichi's grasp.

"We've got a serious problem," Yusuke said quickly.

"Yukina's gone!" Kuwabara burst out. Yusuke was pushed aside as Kuwabara grabbed Shuichi's shoulders. "They took her—tell me what to do Kurama, I don't know what to do—"

As Kuwabara continued, near hysterics, Shiori peered at her son questioningly. Shuichi's already pale face had gone white as bone. He stood numbly, swaying to and fro as his shoulders were shaken.

"I-impossible," Shuichi said faintly. "Why would he take Yukina…?"

"I don't know!" Kuwabara cried. "Kurama, please, we've gotta get her back!"

"We will," Shuichi said. "Kuwabara, please calm down. No good will come of losing our heads." It sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than anything.

There was a whistling sound. Shuichi whipped his head around and stared at the kitchen doorway, eyes wide. Knowing she was caught, Shiori stepped into plain view. Kuwabara and Yusuke froze.

"Uh, um…"

"G-Good morning Mrs. Hatanaka," Kuwabara choked out. He forced a very watery smile. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, Kazuma," Shiori said. The whistling of the tea kettle grew louder, and she motioned toward the dining room with one hand. "Please, come inside. I've just made breakfast."

The men looked distinctly uncomfortable as they walked into the dining room. Shuichi hung back a little, and it couldn't be clearer that he wanted to talk to Shiori. She merely touched his shoulder.

"We'll talk later," she said quietly. "Your friends need you right now."

Shuichi bit his lip, hurrying into the room after Kuwabara and Yusuke. Shiori sighed softly. I wonder how long he'll be gone this time…

kitsune - a fox that takes a human form, usually of an attractive woman. A kitsune's tail will split once every hundred years, forming up to nine tails. Anyone who looks at these tails is entranced by their beauty and falls under the kitsune's spell. Kitsune can be good or bad or somewhere in between, but they are always very clever. I could go into more detail, but the rest doesn't really apply to Kurama.

hiyoukai - written with the kanji hi 火 ("fire"), you 妖 ("bewitch/wicked"), and kai 怪 ("wonder"). Of course, when put together the second two kanji mean "demon", so this is "fire-demon".

dorayaki - a sort of pancake sandwich with a sweet adzuki bean filling. According to folklore, a kitsune's favorite foods are adzuki beans and tofu, so Kurama would probably eat any dish containing one of the two. No, Shiori does not know that Kurama is a kitsune; she just noticed his eating habits and jokingly thinks of him as one.