Disclaimers: Characters are owned by Yoshihiro Togashi + insert other disclaimers here.
Summary: It's been a few years, and a lot of changes have happened. But some things remain untouched.
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The Last Time
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They haven't seen each other for so long. He hadn't kept in touch; the other one hadn't either. He didn't make an effort to do so; neither did Hiei.
He thought the fire demon had been too busy – busy with his newfound place with a newfound purpose with a newfound companion. And Kurama had been busy: living the life he thought his mother wanted him to with his newfound dad and newfound brother.
He gives the mirror one last glance, tucks a stray hair behind his ear and heads out.
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The last time they met had been unremarkable.
There was no need for anything else but a brief nod, in Hiei's opinion; time had little consequence to a demon. He knew human life spans were short: Shiori would die and Kurama would be back in Makai in no time.
Yet something propelled him to ask Kurama for a favor – to return the hiruiseki to his twin. And Kurama, perhaps sensing his hesitation, had turned it into a joke. He would not obligate Hiei to return the favor one day. They will part with a clean slate. That's what Hiei thought on the matter, and felt grateful yet strangely irritated.
He clenches the hilt of his sword that was tucked underneath his cloak out of reflex, and maybe a bit of impatience, and glances at the clusters of youkai scattered about in the room.
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Kurama hated stairs. At least stairs like these. It made for such a grand appearance, when all he really wanted to do was… be home and slave away in his office? Okay, maybe that wasn't a better option, but at least he'd be away from all the staring. Maybe.
What was he doing here anyway?
Induction of the new Makai leader, right. The one whom he'd only met once when the winner of the recent tournament had dropped in unannounced to offer him the post of chief adviser. After Yomi's glittering recommendation.
Really, what was Yomi doing talking about him to others? He silently worries about what other kinds of info that former Makai lord fed this one; but anyway, he had politely declined. Which is why there was no reason for him being invited here and he really should never have come, but –
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He had been asked to become the Chief Guard.
Mukuro all but prodded him to accept it, stating that he seemed bored or dissatisfied, or worse, like he was about to kill anyone who came within a one-mile radius.
Hiei had merely grunted in reply; this new king's strategy was obvious – since neither he, nor Yusuke had entered the tournament, there was no way to gauge who was stronger, no way to prove it either except to fight, and that was a risk the new ruler wasn't going to take. He was likely plagued by the rumor that either the fire demon or half-Mazoku could easily beat him, which was why he was scrambling to hire them. If you can't beat them, make them join you.
The king would then pacify Mukuro, Yomi (who didn't join the tournament either), Yusuke and their followers by dividing the land by three, assigning each one as sort of dukes to their respective territories. Or well, Yusuke had been asked to be the envoy between Makai and Reikai/Ningenkai, so the third part will go to that assistant, whatever his name was, or to Enki.
And yet, he was here, in this social function because –
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"Hey, Hiei, have you seen Kurama? Heard he was coming."
Hiei almost sighed in frustration, almost, but instead, turned to glare, and came face-to-face with a mini-version of Yuusuke: large brown eyes, tousled hair and all tender baby fat, "Does Keiko know you brought Keisuke* along with you?" The said mini-version was glaring at him, so he glares back.
The human-turned-youkai huffed and embarked on a long explanation, but Hiei tuned him out, mainly because the screech of a youki made his blood leap.
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The room had quieted as if someone pressed the mute button. The redhead ignored it, focusing instead on the steps, on his feet, on his breathing. He had felt a familiar warmth and it was somehow making him feel light-headed.
Hearing the sudden lull, Yusuke turns, and all but screams out, "Oh hey, Kurama, over here!"
"Chi-chan!" squeals his luggage.
Kurama weaved through the bodies in the room (he didn't need to, really, they had parted for him), and arrived in front of them, then bent slightly at the waist to allow Kei-chan to pull his hair so as to allow the child to give his favorite uncle a large, wet, kiss. His father slid him out of the carrier then, settled him on one bicep instead, and admonished, "No hair-pulling brat."
The redhead stood still as the younger boy gently slid the locks out of the little hands, "Does Keiko know you brought him along, Yusuke?"
Eyes rolling, "Oh hey, déjà vu." He then jerked his head sideways.
Turning slightly, and tucking the wisps of hair in, "Hiei."
Placing his hands in his pockets, "Kurama."
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Later, they will part again without saying anything of consequence. Because some things just won't change. (Sadly.) And the next time they see each other, they would think that the last time they met had been unremarkable. But it doesn't matter; it won't be the last 'last time', anyway.
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-end-
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*Keisuke = Keiko + Yuusuke. Sorry, couldn't resist!
Hope you found the story satisfactory. -25c.