Chapter One

Their fingers hovered over their heads as they rested snugly within their cozy little haven of a bed, the digits laced together in a sweet way as they both stared up at them. The night air swelling in from the window dappled Kurama's crimson tresses across Hiei's face, causing him to wrinkle his nose slightly at the sensation. They had, previously, been engaged in a serious conversation, but it had ended in them resting aside one another, examining the way their own hands looked together in the light above them.

"How long has it been, fox?" Hiei's curt voice suddenly asked through the silence, and Kurama could feel the other's crimson gaze focusing in upon him.

"Really… I can't remember how long… how long it's been since we met. Perhaps four or five years? Why..?" He raised a slender crimson brow, and glanced toward the other's gaze, locking his soft emerald hues in with the sharp crimson irises regarding him.

"I dunno, I just wondered." He muttered, looking away and slowly pulling his fingers from the laced position above them.

Kurama turned his gaze upward to his own hand, which remained fixed in the air where it had been previously. Slowly, he allowed it to fall and rest upon his chest, and rolled to look at his brooding friend. The fire demon had turned himself away on to his side, glaring off toward the other wall in a thoughtful and perhaps even melancholy manner.

Gently, Kurama allowed himself to move on to his own side, propping himself up on one elbow and staring off toward the corner of the room. He knew that Hiei got uncomfortable when he stared at him like that for a long time. For some reason, Kurama's gaze bothered Hiei exponentially lately. Once or twice, he got slapped for watching him too intently, as if the gaze was acidic-- which it most certainly was not. The redhead knew he only gazed at Hiei with kindness and seriousness… and perhaps every once in a while in concern.

Recently, Hiei's moods seemed to be going down hill in a very steady manner. Kurama knew Hiei well enough to know that the other was not exactly a chipper person, but it was never difficult to keep Hiei in at least a decent mood. His eyes were brighter then, he smiled and even laughed a little, and was very playful. He and Kurama usually had a good time when Hiei came over to stay (which was frequent), but Kurama could only watch in wonder as Hiei's brooding attitude began to return to him, and the distance between them grew more and more intense with each passing day.

He was suddenly jolted by a sharp pain to the cheek, causing him to gasp and draw back slightly, eyed widening at the malevolent and dangerous gaze focused squarely upon himself.

"Stop STARING AT ME LIKE THAT!" Hiei snarled in an uncharacteristic loss of his cool, as he suddenly slapped the redhead harshly across the face once more, sharp nails biting in to the flesh and causing small crimson ringlets to dribble from the neat cuts across Kurama's pale cheek. Kurama's eyes slowly moved, and then refocused upon Hiei's face, half shut and almost tired looking.

All too suddenly, the smaller male's gaze trailed from Kurama's eyes to the blood thickly dripping down his cheek, and the anger within his gaze disappeared completely, and he sat himself up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and getting to his feet. Before he had turned away, Kurama knew he had seen the traces of guilt that Hiei had been trying to hide from his face.

"Hiei…" Kurama murmured very softly, watching as the other moved to pick his katana up from the other side of the room, slipping his boots on slowly. He glanced back at the redhead, prompting him to speak further.

Kurama, however, did not… Something was wrong about the other's gaze. The way Hiei stared at him was much more different than usual. The other's crimson eyes were narrowed in to slits, his upper lip raised in to what Kurama could only assume was a snarl. The eye hidden away beneath his headband was visible for the dim green glow shining through the white. The stare caused Kurama to sit with his lips parted, air drawn in to speak, but finding no words coming to his mouth.

He watched as the other lowered his crimson gaze to the floor, mouthed something indiscernible beneath his breath, and raised his hateful gaze once more. There was conviction within the other's eyes… He had decided upon something-- he had decided upon something that he had obviously been thinking through for a very long time. Kurama closed his lips, and sat up further, frown creasing his brows before he suddenly snapped his entire body to the left and onto his bed, one arm over his head as he cried out in surprise.

The weight on the bed shifted as Hiei landed where Kurama had been moments before, katana sunk deeply within the wall that Kurama's head had just been resting against. Kurama moved his arm, sitting up slightly and staring with wide eyes at the smaller male, who rested kneeled there, staring at the deep incision made within the wood and plaster of Kurama's wall.

"… H-Hiei…?" He asked softly.

The other made no notice of his words, if he heard them. Kurama closed his mouth at that point, watching the other carefully, prepared to spring should the other make another move toward him. Kurama's gaze was contemplative, and as the shock wore off, so was his mind. He hardly had time to figure out why Hiei would do something like that to him, when he had to duck and roll off of the bed to the floor.

Ribbons of his sheets fell after him, as the position in which Kurama had been resting was torn to slivers by several precise slashes of the sword. Kurama gasped softly, before rolling once more to avoid a stab aimed at his forehead. This roll, however, put Kurama directly on his feet, and he took several careful and measured steps back away from Hiei, who stared at him in a queer manner.

"Hiei. If you're going to kill me, at least tell me what I've done to deserve it. As far as my memory serves me, I can't remember doing anything to deserve this." He murmured softly, brows knitted and eyes carefully watching the other.

"Why?" Hiei asked softly, almost to himself, before raising his voice a bit more, "Why can't you look at me the way I want you to look at me!?" He demanded with a deep snarl, lifting his katana before himself, casting the redhead's bedroom light dangerously off the blade.

Before Kurama had a chance to answer or contemplate his question, the youkai was upon him once more, slicing the blade so quickly that Kurama would have hardly been able to discern the movements if it were not for the hissing sound the steel cutting through air made. He moved left, right, left, ducked, and then used the backs of his feet upon the wall he was coming against to flip himself over the small youkai and toward a safe landing on his feet on the other side of the room.

His landing was unsuccessful, however, and he could only gasp as he felt the other's blade sink deeply within his stomach and into the wall directly behind him. The pain blistered through his abdomen, racing through his nerves and veins as he felt hot liquid bubbling up his esophagus, being coughed out roughly in deep crimson spatters.

Hiei only stared at the redhead, who was permanently pinned on his feet by the sword through him. His hand had left the blade, and he only watched now with an odd mix of emotions as the redhead coughed, but still… Still, made no move to harm him. No move to hurt him… No move to defend himself.

The red slits focused upon him slowly softened, and he took a slow step back and away from Kurama, shaking his head only very slightly to himself.

"I- I can't help you." He spoke softly, widening his eyes, before narrowing them once more with a flash of the Jagan, "And I won't help you, you disgusting fox! Stay there and rot-- or better yet, let your mother come in and find you pinned there and bled to death!" He snapped harshly, before turning and disappearing with the familiar shiff sound that accompanied his goings and comings.

Kurama merely watched, feeling the blood pouring from his lips and down his chin. He glanced down at the blade pinning him to the wall, and slowly grabbed the hilt. He distracted himself from the discomfort of removing the sword from his abdomen though thoughts. He was, as it was, the forever calm Kurama.

Something about the scenario was not as it was supposed to appear. Hiei's words made sense, in context, simply because Kurama knew and had known since the moment Hiei had decided-- the other was in love with him, or something very similar to it. The change in the other's demeanor was enough to give him away, and the suddenly forward behavior with which Hiei acted with. All of the touching and talking-- opening up, that he never would have done unless he had finally decided he could trust Kurama with every inkling of his being.

This outburst had been building up for at least a month now, while Kurama watched, fascinated and worried about the changes. Hiei's stare had been all wrong in these instances, and in the instance with which Kurama was now faced.

Kurama was suddenly distracted by the sound of running water, and looked down at the blade he was cleaning in the bathroom sink with one of his washcloths. He frowned and shook his head, looking at his own troubled eyes in the mirror.

The other did not have the intent to kill him. If he had wished to kill him, then he certainly would not have made the final blow somewhere so easily dealt with. He had been stabbed there before by Hiei, after all, and certainly the other would not be quick to forget that fact. That and the range of sympathy that tore across Hiei's face right before he left--

None of this was right.

He lowered the blade to the floor in his room, cloth now pressed over his bleeding stomach as he looked toward the window.

"He'll… want this back when he returns." He murmured softly, staring out the dark window with gentle and worried eyes.