Inari's Star

By Bobbi Meislohn

(Standard disclaimer: I don't own YYH or its characters; they are the sole property of Yoshihiro Togashi, Shonen Jump Comics Weekly, Studio Pierrot and Fuji Television)

AN: Italic type indicates dream or flashback sequence.

This fic takes place about eight years after the end of the series. Kurama is now 25 years old; finished with college and now working an an architect. Slight shonen ai (no lemons; I'm not brave enough yet to attempt one) as Kurama and Hiei are mates in this story.


Chapter 1 -- Remembrance

"I thought I'd find you here." The small, quiet voice shattered the stillness of the Makai night, but not that of the figure he addressed. The figure, a young kitsune female of nine, was seated, back propped against a pine tree, one knee drawn up and hands clasped tightly around it. Her head was up, golden eyes staring off into the distance, which was unusual. Normally, those eyes would have been fixed on the night sky; now they looked at nothing.

The kit tried again. "Ane?" He knelt beside her. From beneath shaggy bangs of spun silver, eyes, identical in color to the girl's, looked at her. Those eyes held sadness and a wisdom they should not have known. They were eyes far too old for someone of his tender years.

"Is Tousan asleep?" his sister asked, without moving.

"Passed out, don't you mean?" The youngster snorted derisively.

"You should be sleeping as well, little one," she replied, ignoring his comment.

Finally, she turned her head to look at him, one corner of her mouth lifting in a small smile that was hers alone. He loved her smile and yet, looking at her, Kurama's heart ached for the sorrow that lay behind it and the shadows he saw in the eyes that gazed back at him. Lifting a tiny hand, he reached out, gently tucking a lock of silver hair behind her ear.

"Did he hurt you?" he asked, his eyes shifting from her face to her throat, noting the deep purple bruises that dotted the pale flesh like some obscene necklace. Why…why couldn't the bastard leave her alone?

"No." She shook her head. Seeing the sadness in her brother's eyes, she reached out, gently caressing the side of his small face. Kurama leaned into it, placing his hand over hers and flattening the palm against his cheek. Again, the corner of her mouth lifted in a smile. "You worry too much, kyodai," she gently admonished him.

"Why?" he asked softly, and though she knew what it was he was really asking, she didn't know how to answer him. In truth, she wasn't sure she even had one.

It had started so long ago, shortly after their mother left, never to return; Kurama not quite two years' old. It had been the night of the full moon, and he'd returned to their den, to his sleeping children, drunk. She'd remembered the smell of liquor on his breath as he'd entered the sleeping quarters she shared with her brother, the tiny kit curled up in one corner, sleeping soundly; remembered his hand coming down on her mouth, stifling her cries. Then, too, she remembered his body as it came down on top of hers, his free hand tearing the thin nightdress from her; remembered the almost lazy way he'd reached out his finger, one long, sharp nail tracing a figure onto her naked flesh; remembered the burning of that flesh when she'd tried to summon her ki; and finally, the searing pain and the gush of blood as he penetrated her, taking his pleasure from her pain.

In the years that followed, it had become a matter of routine, though not with any regularity. He'd disappear for two or three weeks, sometimes even a month, then return, flushed with victory from some battle and still high on the fever that engulfed him during those times or, more often than not these days, simply drunk. And she'd accepted it; taken the incestuous abuse as a matter of course, hoping that in doing so, she could keep Kurama safe from him – vowing to let him continue having his way, but only until she and Kurama were older, until she was old enough to protect her brother and then she'd take him away from this hell, vanishing forever as their mother had done.

Just one more year, she thought, swallowing a sigh. She'd be well into her tenth year by then and able to control completely her power to manipulate the plant life around them. As well, her empathic abilities would be fully developed by that time, and she'd be able, not only to protect the little kit, but provide for both of them as well.

But Kurama was looking at her now; his beautiful amber eyes demanding an answer… an answer she couldn't give him. Instead, she smiled, opening her arms.

"Want to watch the stars with me, otouto?" she asked, reaching up and pulling him onto her lap.

He knew perfectly well what she was doing, but he obliged just the same, leaning back against her, his head pillowed on her chest as she wrapped her arms around him, resting her chin on the top of his head. He smelled her scent – the sweet smell of honeysuckle and lilac, and the dusky, warm smell of the earth – and he closed his eyes, savoring her smell and the warmth of her arms as she held him.

"All right," she said, breaking into his reverie, "let's see what you remember…"

"What's that one?" she asked, pointing to a constellation overhead.

"Orion," he answered.

"And that?"

"Cassiopeia."

It was a learning process, providing the young kit with another means for determining direction, aside from recognizing the forests and woods. Yet, it was a game for them as well. She knew his favorite constellation was that of the dragon, Dracos, and she'd save it for last, seeing how long he could last before his impatience got the better of him and he squirmed in her arms.

"Very good," she said. "Now, let me see…" She paused a moment, searching the heavens, then asked, "what about that one, there?"

He played along, tiny golden eyes scrunched up as if in deep thought as he followed her finger. "Ummmm... Ursa Major."

On they played, Kurama's impatience growing with each succeeding question. Finally, she took pity on the poor kit.

"And that one?"

"Dracos," he answered with a wide grin, satisfied at last.

"Well done, little one… as always." She hugged him and he wriggled around on her lap until he was facing her, his little face serious.

"Wildflower," he asked, "why do you like the stars so much?"

"Did you know, I was just about your age when I started watching them?" she replied to his question with one of her own, leaning down to touch her forehead to his. She nuzzled his nose then pulled back to study his small, heart-shaped face. "I suppose I started watching them because they reminded me so much of fire gems strewn across a field of black velvet… they were so bright, so beautiful, so… magnificent. And as I watched them, I grew to love that very beauty and magnificence; so much so that I even asked Inari for one of my very own."

"You did?"

"Hai," she nodded. "And not just any one. No," she shook her head, smiling at the memory. "It had to be the brightest, most beautiful gem in the whole of that jeweled sky."

"Every night for almost a year it was the same," she continued, "I'd look up at the night sky and send my prayer to Inari." She giggled softly. "I think I must have worn him out with all those prayers, because one night, at last, he saw fit to grant my wish."

"Inari-sama gave you a… star?"

She nodded. "The very one I'd asked for, too… the brightest, most beautiful star in all the heavens."

Kurama frowned, his small brow furrowed in thought. "But how come I've never… hey!… how come you've never shown it to me?"

"But you've seen it," she explained, "many times. In fact, it's here with us right now."

"Where?" He looked around.

"In my arms," she replied softly.

He looked at her, eyes going wide in surprised realization. She was talking about him. HE was her star. She smiled again, leaning in to nuzzle his pug nose once more.

"Come now, my Shining Star," she said gathering him into her arms and rising to her feet. She smiled down at him as he tried unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn then gave up, burying his head against her shoulder. "It's past your bedtime."