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Big Emotion
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The trip out to Genkai's place has never really seemed all that tiresome before.
(And tiresome is a word Hiei or Kurama would use, that's how goddamn done he is with this.)
Anyway, it's usually a pretty peaceful ride, whatever - until Kuwabara gets the stupid idea in his head to try out his license and drive the two of them up there in a dinosaur of a Toyota that would probably go faster if they stuck their legs through the floor and booked it themselves. Yusuke hadn't thought he was serious at first. He'd outright laughed at the car ("What the hell is this?" "It's a car, Urameshi, don't act dumb!"), and now the endless view of woods and fields and the occasional power post as they leave the city far behind is passing like a dream that refuses to end.
It's overcast today, the sun struggling to beam down through a dense blanket of clouds. Yusuke has his sunglasses on, anyway, his feet kicked up on the dashboard. They had squabbled for a while over that - Yusuke had stuck them out the window at first, propped on the side mirror, and Kuwabara had growled and grumbled until Yusuke pulled them back in. All his limbs had to be inside the car, he had to buckle up, and some other crap that Yusuke tuned out after the first initial spiel.
Now the engine rumbles, and the car drifts a bit in the lane but stays mostly dead center because, surprise, Kuwabara is actually a pretty decent driver. It's only been about forty minutes. Yusuke is restless as hell and he doesn't know why. He keeps moving, stretching his legs and touching everything, flipping the air vents, rummaging through the glove compartment, tossing garbage out the window until Kuwabara yells about that, too, and rolls the window up himself. This creates a silence that's almost suffocating. Yusuke snaps on the radio and channel hops until Kuwabara loses his generally thin patience and tells him to leave that alone, too.
"Alright, Urameshi, what's your deal?"
Yusuke realizes belatedly that he's gripping the back off his headrest again, fingers biting into the upholstery like he means to tear the whole seat out and send it flying through the windshield, digging his dirty hightops into the dashboard. He drops his hands against his thighs.
He wasn't paying attention to what Kuwabara said.
"What?"
"What d'you mean what? You're actin' squirrely and you're not talkin'," Kuwabara says, narrowing his eyes at the road and keeping his hands firmly on the wheel, "It's freakin' me out."
"Excuse the hell outta me," Yusuke snaps, facing out the window.
This evidently isn't the response Kuwabara wanted. And maybe it came out meaner than Yusuke meant it to. Kuwabara mutters, "Whatever, nevermind," and he sounds kind of hurt about it. For some reason that pisses Yusuke off. He rights himself with a jerky movement, yanking his feet back off the dash, and leans against the window, instead, with his face practically against the glass. His knee starts bouncing, fingers drumming the armrest.
Kuwabara snaps, releasing a hand from his iron grip on the wheel to point, "Look, Urameshi, that's what I'm talkin' about! Enough a this, what's with you?"
"I'm not doing anything!" Yusuke says angrily, turning away from the window.
"Yeah you are, you're - you're fidgeting! You don't fidget! What's the matter?"
"I'm not - fidgeting! Damnit!" Yusuke smacks a fist against the console in between them. "Y'know what would make this a lot less nerve-wracking? If you just shut the hell up again!"
Kuwabara does get quiet - a miracle in and of itself. He's frowning hard at the road like he's trying hard to work something out. He eases off the gas a little, glancing across at Yusuke, who stays folded up against the car door, squeezing the oh shit handle for all he's worth just to stop his damn hands from moving. Yusuke stubbornly ignores him.
"Oh, you're not mad," Kuwabara says, like he's figured it all out, "You're nervous."
Yusuke tenses. His whole body tenses, muscles pulling in tight, and something cold like clarity wells up and spills out into the rest of the car. The shift is palpable, dark and coiling, and Kuwabara shoots him another look, slightly worried. Yusuke doesn't say anything, so Kuwabara goes on, still trying to figure out the details, "Is that right? I mean. I don't sense nothin'..."
"You wouldn't," Yusuke says, short and clipped.
"Yeah, okay, I know you're a lot stronger than me now but my spirit awareness is still better than yours, Urameshi, so I'd definitely sense if somethin' was up, or if somethin' was out there, and nothin' is. So what're ya so antsy for?"
"Nothing," Yusuke tries to say it firmly to put Kuwabara at east, but it comes out defensive. Typical. They've always got make everything a fight, that's just instinct at this point. They don't talk about crap and he dosen't know why Kuwabara is trying.
"Fine," Kuwabara snaps back, and Yusuke is running out of patience, too. Kuwabara's next statement really kicks him in the chest, "This was supposed to be fun, y'know. Why'd you wanna come if you're just gonna be a jerk the whole time?"
"If I had known you were gonna drive this stupid car I probably wouldn't have!" Yusuke emphasizes this shout with a kick to the dashboard, furious.
"Hey, watch it!"
"You watch it!"
"What's it matter if I drive, Urameshi, it's not like it's gonna take any longer!"
"I'm bored, alright! That's it!"
"That's not it, you're not that bored! Are you gonna tell me what's really bugging ya or what?"
"Nothing! Fuck, Kuwabara, get off me!"
To hell with it!
Yusuke rocks sideways in his seat and shoves a hand into the pocket of his jacket, wrestling out a pack of Cupids. He dumps the lighter out of it and sticks a cigarette in his mouth before he tries the window. They're not manual (probably the first model ever to have electric windows) so he hesitates for a second when he automatically reaches for the crank and doesn't find one.
It stumps him long enough for Kuwabara to remind him, "Urameshi, you can't smoke in here."
"Eat me," Yusuke says around his cigarette, finally finding the button. It clicks, but the window doesn't budge. He flicks it the other way impatiently and still nothing. He scowls at Kuwabara, pulling the cigarette from between his lips. "Unlock it. Or feel free to choke on the smoke, I don't care which."
They both know he won't really light up in the confines of the car, so Kuwabara sets his jaw and stares stubbornly ahead at the road. Yusuke tears his sunglasses off. Maybe the full force of how pissed off he is isn't making its way through the tinted shades.
"Kuwabara! Unlock the window!"
"No way, I told ya you're not smokin' in here! It'll smell like an ashtray!"
"I'll do whatever the hell I want, now unlock the window!"
"No!"
"Unlock it now!"
"No! You told Keiko you'd quit, anyway, ya big liar - "
"I said I'd quit smoking in the apartment! I never said anything about permanently now roll the goddamn window down before I put my fucking fist through it!"
"You better not, Urameshi, I'll kick your ass!"
"You wanna try me!"
It's not the smartest thing to grapple in the car with the person who's driving it. Yusuke has never been known for making smart choices - his two consecutive deaths within months of each other when he was barely 14 are a testament to that - so he reaches across Kuwabara for the driver's side door. He's either going to unlock his own goddamn window himself, or put his elbow in Kuwabara's throat. And Kuwabara is just as bullheaded and stupid as Yusuke is.
He closes his arm around Yusuke's to stop him, pinning it against his chest. He yells. He jerks the wheel on accident, panics and slams the brakes.
The tires squeal, their seatbelts locking as the sudden stop yanks them forward.
That single second passes like an eternity. For Yusuke, it's too familiar. That sound, the movement, the way the seat belt, squeezing his chest, feels like something else.
It is way, way too familiar.
Yusuke's heart is pounding so hard he thinks he's going to be sick. He yanks his arm away and struggles back into his seat, breathing short, cold with sweat. Kuwabara lets him go without a fight. He's shaking. Goddamnit, Kuwabara is shaking. Yusuke is furious. Mr. Sensitive, doing that stupid thing with his empathy when it is the least convenient for everyone.
A big emotion pools out around him and he just has to soak it up like a sponge!
"Aw man," Kuwabara breathes, his voice shaking too. He's staring straight ahead, dazed by the maelstrom of memories and the feelings that aren't his, and he's totally pale, knuckles white around the steering wheel, foot slammed down on the brake because he doesn't trust it not to go anywhere. "The car… I didn't even think - Hey! Urameshi!"
Yusuke isn't listening.
He kicks open his door, wrestles free of the seat belt, stumbles out of the car while it's idling sideways in the road, and takes off running. They're in the middle off fuck-all nowhere. There isn't another car or person around for miles. The gravel on the side of the road quickly gives way to uncut grass, higher than his knees, and a steep embankment leading down into an empty field. By the time Yusuke has crossed it, shoes squelching in the soft ground, jeans covered in those prickly wheat stickers, Kuwabara has stopped yelling for him to come back to the car.
Yusuke's pulse is pounding through his body, in his ears, in his throat. His head is spinning. He's actually shaking so bad that he has to stop running. His legs are weak and wobbly, and it's just fear gripping his insides - screaming Run! Do something! - fear that he hasn't felt since Toguro, before the Dark Tournament, only this is worse. At least that was something physical. That was something real. That was something immediate that was threatening his life and the people he cared about. That was something he could face. That was something he could deal with.
This is just a stupid memory, five years old, buried so deep in his subconsciousness that it only bleeds out half-formed - sounds and lights and the ghost of sensations.
Yusuke stumbles over a huge log sticking up out of the ground, takes another half-step, and sits heavily, dropping his head into his hands.
He thinks, This is dumb, what the hell.
He's not thinking about the car.
He's not thinking about the blaring horn, the windshield cracking, someone screaming, the cold air, the warm pavement, his burning lungs.
Yusuke digs his fingers into his hair, forcing one breath out and another one in. His lighter thumps into the grass between his feet, loosed from his sweaty hand, caught in his jacket and dropped again. He lost his cigarette somewhere along the way, but his lighter stuck with him. Yusuke is trembling when he picks it up and goes to fish the pack out of his pocket again; he needs a cigarette right now and can barely even light the damn thing. It takes him a few tries.
He's calm enough after his third cigarette (and an indefinite amount of time) that he hears Kuwabara clumsily making his way across the field. He's lighting his fourth before Kuwabara actually reaches him, and Yusuke is never, ever going to admit it out loud, but he's glad that it's Kuwabara, and that he doesn't make a huge fuss about it. The big oaf steps over the log and sits down beside him, braces his hands against his knees and stares ahead at the line of trees that aren't too far off, building up into the mountains and the grey sky beyond.
Yusuke exhales a line of smoke between his knees, watching it plum across the dirt and whisk away through the tall grass with half-lidded eyes. He flicks the ashes off his cigarette and lifts it to his lips again. They might've said a lot of cheesy stuff when they thought other was unconscious (or dead) - but not to each others' faces. So Yusuke says,
"Well, that was fun."
And Kuwabara snorts, "Yeah, if givin' somebody a heart attack is fun."
Yusuke wants that to be the end of it, but apparently Kuwabara is really messed up about it. The stiff way he's sitting, hands gripping into the knees of his jeans, jaw working silently as he looks at literally anything other than the person beside him. They're all dead giveaways that he's not going to let this go. The nicotine flooding his system as the adrenaline leaves it has done wonders for Yusuke's patience, so he waits and doesn't say anything else. He breathes out toward the ground, keeps one hand buried in his hair and the other holding his cigarette against the outside of his knee to block the smoke.
"Why didn't you say anything?" Kuwabara asks, the words tripping out slowly. That's a dumb question and he knows it. He's still trying to figure out what he wants to say, but can't stand being quiet any longer. "I mean… If it bothers you… I didn't know, man. I wouldn't have - "
"It has literally never even crossed my mind until just now," Yusuke says honestly, taking another drag. There's not enough of this cigarette left, and he's only got two more. Yusuke exhales, twisting the cigarette between his fingers. "So shut up. If it bothered me, I would have told you and your car to both fuck off and taken the bus like we normally do."
"Fine," Kuwabara says, staring straight up at the grey-tinted sky. He lets go of his guilt, if only because Yusuke doesn't want him to hold onto it, whether he says that or not. He's still determined to talk about it. "You really - you really remember dyin' like that?"
"Apparently."
"That's messed up…"
"Yup. Just like everything else, I guess."
They're quiet for a while before Yusuke says, "I guess so much other crap was happening, I just sort of forgot it even happened?"
"Seriously, Urameshi? How the hell d'you forget you died?"
"I didn't forget I died, I just sort of - I dunno, I knew it in passing, I guess. I was absolutely aware of it, but like - just like as something that happened."
Yusuke can tell by the look on Kuwabara's face that he's struggling to understand. And Yusuke's struggling to remember. That whole year was so fucked up…. a lot of it kind of runs together. Yusuke tips his head to one side and sighs and pushes his hair back into place from where he's been digging into it and stripping out the gel.
"I dunno," he says, "I mean… I was just so glad to be back, y'know? And when I was a ghost... Botan says the shock of dying makes things fuzzy or whatever, and she's totally right, it took me like ten minutes to figure it out. But I knew I was dead, and I knew I'd been hit by a car. Like I was 100% aware of those things. I remembered knocking that kid out of the way. And I remember I saw my body lying there bleeding all over the pavement - " Kuwabara makes a noise here, a breath pulled in too sharp, and Yusuke plows on ahead, pretending not to notice, " - and everybody making a huge fuss over it, but I didn't really feel anything, y'know?
"It was just like… 'Oh, that's my body,' like saying, 'Oh, that's a stick over there.'"
Yusuke points with his cigarette to a random stick on the ground just a few feet away, half-hidden in the grass. Kuwabara looks at it, then looks at Yusuke, then back at the stick, and it's obvious he doesn't get it. He doesn't get the detached indifference Yusuke is talking about. The disassociation. And he's so bewildered and messed up about it that it shows plainly on his face. Yusuke grids the butt of his cigarette out under his shoe so he doesn't have to look back at him.
Kuwabara has never died before.
He's had a couple of close calls, and Yusuke has honest to god wanted to kill him with his bare hands a time or two. But he's never actually died. He's never been outside of his own body, looking at it and wondering what the hell it is and why the hell everyone keeps ignoring you in favor of it.
"Even after I came back… I guess it didn't feel real, is all. I dunno. I knew that it had happened, but it didn't really stick, I guess, and I had plenty of other crap to worry about."
They sit there a few minutes longer, mutually silent. He's starting to notice the nature noises now, wind rustling the grass and trees, the weird chirping sound of insects. Yusuke claps his hands against his knees, pulls in a deep breath, and forces out some enthusiasm, because it's obvious that Kuwabara isn't going to and one of them has to. His mom likes to say, "Fake it til you make it," and maybe it's dumb, drunk advice, Yusuke likes to live by that when he can.
It's served him pretty well so far. He acted tough until it made him tough, and that's what got him through just about every obstacle life (or death) has thrown at him.
"So whatever," Yusuke says. He stands, stretching his arms out above his head, spreading them wide, and he puts on a reassuring grin as he drops them and looks down at Kuwabara, "Let's get the hell outta here, these mosquitoes are driving me nuts."
He swats the air for emphasis, even though there's only been like one mosquito buzzing his ear this entire time. He puts his hand on Kuwabara's shoulder, uses this as an excuse for balance as he steps over the log, and starts picking his way back across the field. Kuwabara is watching him with his mouth open, and he scrambles to his feet.
"You wanna get back in the car?"
"Yeah, I'm not walking all the way to grandma's house," Yusuke says, rolling a shoulder, "I can, but I don't want to. I've had my fill of nature." He stops after a few paces to look back at Kuwabara, because he's not following, just standing there frowning and looking sad and worried. Yusuke doesn't even feel annoyed about it. He just sticks his hands in his pockets and rocks back a bit. "What? Got somethin' else you wanna ask, you better get it out now while I'm still in the mood."
Kuwabara works his jaw silently. Yusuke can almost hear it hanging in between them - Are you okay? You'd say something if you weren't, right? - but what comes out is, "No. Nothin'."
And that's fine. That's normal. That's what Yusuke needs. Because he is, maybe, and he wouldn't, and they both know it. And that's fine. Yusuke starts walking, and this time Kuwabara stumbles after him, breaking noisily through the tall grass, always in his wake.
"You're buyin' me a pack of smokes at the first vending machine we see."
"Fine, whatever."
"And a case of beer."
"Okay, that too, but yer sharin'!"
"HA! Who says?"
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(A/n) I don't remember where or when but I do know that I saw somebody on tumblr make a comment along the lines of "yusuke is nervous riding in cars bc he got run the hell over as a kid and literally died" and I like dealing with internalized trauma so here tf we are! This was a frog's hair from being done like three months ago and I only just now got around to polishing it up. I've just come it accept that this is who I am as a person (i'm sorry lmao).
Thanks so much for reading, I hope you guys enjoyed it! You can also hmu on tumblr (where i am more apt to respond) or buy me a coffee, but honestly I just really enjoy reading your comments and reviews! c:
-BobTAC