This chapter's a little shorter, but I don't think it ends with any obnoxious cliffhanger—and we start out right away addressing last chapter's "mystery," so maybe that makes up for it.

What's Yours is Mine
Chapter II
June 1, 2007

"What?" Hiei snatched the paper from him, and then stared at the results. His face lost all expression, and an awkward silence hung over the kitchen. He finally coughed, and gave Kurama a badly-feigned nonchalant look. "These are wrong," he muttered, shrugging. "They must have mixed yours up with another patient's. This is impossible."

"Not—." Kurama swallowed. "It's not entirely out of the realm of possibility." Hiei stared at him. "It … can happen," he elaborated shakily. "Rarely, very rarely, but it can—But, I never knew …"

Hiei had trouble digesting what Kurama was trying to explain. "Your body's human," he objected. "Humans can't—"

"Well, I evidently can, because according to this paper, I am!" He ran a hand though his hair nervously. "An—An alteration … Regaining youki may have triggered a physical alteration, causing the human body to conform to the yoko energy—that is feasible—Oh, I am going to kill Yusuke!"

Hiei bristled. "How do you know it's Yusuke's? What if it's mine?"

"I don't know," Kurama replied quietly. He rested his head on the table, his hair concealing his face. His hands, Hiei noticed, were clenched into fists.

"… Are you going to work today?" Hiei inquired. It was stupid to ask, but the quiet made him uncomfortable.

"I don't know!"

Kurama's voice hadn't grown louder in the least, but it had acquired a sharpness that made the Koorime recoil. "At least … you're not ill."

"Heh." Kurama raised his head, a cynical expression on his face. "I would hesitate to not call this an affliction," he said. He took a deep breath, exhaled, stared idly across the table, and muttered absently, "If I do keep it, I'll have a lot to explain to my family …"

"If?" Hiei repeated. Kurama threw him a look that was almost vicious, and stood up. "What are you doing?"

"Going to work," the Kitsune replied. "I'll only be a little late."

"Should you be working?"

"I'm not an invalid. I'll be fine." Besides, perhaps work could be distracting, if temporarily. He paused a moment as a nauseating feeling washed over him; when he thought it had passed, he took his coat from the closet and gathered his things. "I'll see you tonight, okay?"

Hiei nodded, scrutinizing the Fox as he left. 'If,' he thought. Something about the word—he didn't like it. But yes, let Kurama go to work. They'd just received a shock, they both needed a little time, maybe they could sort it out tonight …

He jumped as a flash of red passed him. "What's wro—?"

The sound of vomiting answered his question.

"Kurama. Hey, Kurama?"

The Fox frowned. Work had been wearisome, and he'd hoped to pass Yusuke's shop unnoticed. "Yes?" he replied, turning to face the brunette.

"Um, I brought your test results over yesterday, but you were sleeping …"

"I got them." Yusuke was looking at him expectantly. "I tested positive for something," he elaborated reluctantly.

His friend gave him a stricken look. "Is it serious?"

Kurama weighed his answer. "It … could be. It could be very life-changing—But I could have a procedure done,' he added hastily, not liking the look on Yusuke's face, "if I want, to avoid it."

"Oh." Yusuke scratched his neck. "Well, uh, if there's anything I can help you with, let me know."

'Child support?' he thought, trying to imagine the look on Yusuke's face if he actually said that. "Thank you, Yusuke," he said instead. "I'll keep that in mind." What was he supposed to say? 'I have a fetus inside me; it might be yours?'

Or how about: 'I might need an abortion?'

"How did work fare?" Hiei inquired. He'd tried to call, but Kurama's machine had answered, and he hated talking to it.

"It wore on me, but the sickness did go away." He frowned. "Yusuke caught me on the way home today."

"Should you be walking to and from work anymore?" Kurama gave Hiei a look almost as menacing as the one from that morning. "What did Yusuke want?"

"He asked about my results." He explained how he'd answered the brunette. The Jaganshi frowned a little at the mention of the "procedure." "Which reminds me," he said, noticing Hiei's expression. "You and I need to discuss what to do about …"

Hiei pointed to his stomach. "That?"

"Er, yes." He sighed. "And, if I keep it or get rid of it."

Kurama's words made Hiei wince. 'Worse than "if,"' the Koorime thought, frowning. Get rid of. "It's too early. You just found out about the child—"

"I believe the proper term right now is fetus," Kurama interrupted. "Wait, no—embryo."

"—this morning," Hiei finished, his frown deepening. "I wouldn't want the wrong decision made out of hastiness." Kurama looked disconcerted. "You're around two months, right? Maybe you should"—he shrugged—"carry it around a little longer, and then think it over."

Kurama considered Hiei's suggestion. A little longer, and meanwhile he'd have to put up with the dizziness and nausea, and probably start to gain weight, and Hiei was already displaying signs of an overprotective mate—and despite the suggestion's neutral surface, he suspected that the Jaganshi was already favoring one out come over the other. "When you say 'a little longer'—"

"A week or two?"

Hiei's enthusiasm made him wary. "And if I'm moody and hormonal the entire time?" he provoked.

He received a shrug. "I don't think a matter such as this should be decided during a mood swing," Hiei countered casually.

'Which translates to: we can wait until you look like a watermelon, which would by then leave only one option.' Kurama thought reproachfully. He'd been hoping for a little indifference from Hiei; perhaps such an expectation, even of Hiei, was unrealistic in retrospect, but he still hadn't anticipated … this.

Something seemed off in Shuichi, Shiori thought.

One might have inferred that she meant the younger boy of that name, who'd only recently been hospitalized. However, he seemed as vital as ever now, and today it was her elder son that she worried for. He'd apparently shown up to work looking lackluster all week, and yesterday it had quickly circulated around the building that Shuichi had been heard throwing up in the restroom.

Of course, Shuichi himself made no mention of this allegation or his health, good or bad. He was currently leaning against the railing of the back porch, conversing with the other Shuichi, and rejecting another attempt by Hiei to get him to eat something since dinner was not yet ready. The couple glanced in the direction of the window, where she was, and she quickly lowered her gaze, pretending that it required full concentration to rinse the grapes in the sink.

"She's still watching you," Hiei stated.

"I know." It'd occurred to Kurama soon after arriving that Shiori wasn't being as social as usually, and he quickly caught on that she was scrutinizing him from afar. "Do you think she notices?"

Aside from the nausea in the morning, there'd been little change in Kurama, save for his face having grown slightly fuller. "It's not very obvious," Hiei answered, "but who knows?"

"I don't like it."

"Tell her, not me."

"That's not what I meant."

"Shuichi," Shiori called.

The younger Shuichi didn't bother looking toward her. He'd also noted Shiori's preoccupation with his brother since the latter had arrived, though he possessed neither the knowledge of the watcher nor of the watched. Nonetheless, he did at least recognize their mother's tone of voice—the one she'd recently used whenever addressing him—and gave the redhead a sympathetic look.

"Yes?" Kurama answered. Shiori gestured for him to come in to her, which he did. "I left Shuichi out there with Hiei," he said. "I hope he doesn't grow lonely."

"I'm sure that Hiei will open up eventually," Shiori replied mildly. She looked uncomfortable. "Are you feeling better at all? I know you weren't feeling entirely well; I mean, I remember that you didn't have much of an appetite—"

"That's not unusual," he said hastily, "given the heat."

"Maybe," she agreed. "But, I also know that you've been sick at work. I mean, yesterday you threw up—"

"That was third-hand gossip," he said defensively. Granted, he had, but it'd been blown out of proportion.

"I just want to make sure you're okay."

Perhaps he could arrange the adult equivalent of a play date for Shiori and Atsuko—they could afford to brush off on each other. "If something were … really wrong, I would tell you," he assured her.

"Are you sure?" she pressed.

"Yes," he said almost spitefully. He didn't mean to be so cross, but Hiei had recently adopted mannerisms similar to Shiori's, and presently Kurama felt like a mess between two mother hens, being picked apart by their beaks. The situation at hand, and the accumulated stress, had thus far left him with the sense of something raw, sick, and weary, mentally and physically. It was as though someone had placed a mesh screen over him, and he was trying to tear his way through. Shiori and Hiei both helped make up the mesh. "I'm sorry," he quickly added, "But I am fine."

'Physically, biologically—what do you know about hermaphrodites, Mother? Does this mean you only have, what, half a son? a third? three quarters?' It'd only occurred to him the previous day that if he had full and functioning female reproductive organs, he thusly must be part female, meaning that he couldn't be all male. Initially, the idea had only been in passing, but after he assessed it more fully, it horrified him.

Shiori frowned: despite Shuichi's insistence, he did not look fine.

Fortunately for Kurama, Hiei had slipped inside and caught the latter part of the conversation. Noting that Kurama was getting upset, and spying an opportunity to rescue the Fox, he promptly jumped in. "I consider it a spousal duty to look out for each other's health," he told Shiori, being careful with his tone. "And I don't think there is anything for you to be concerned over."

Kurama threw Hiei a thankful look, and set to moving away from the previous topic now that Hiei had stopped it in its tracks.

"You're tense," Hiei observed, watching Kurama pace back and forth in their kitchen.

Kurama laughed a little, sardonically. He looked at the refrigerator; he sorely wanted potato salad at the moment, but they had none. "I love my mother," he stressed. "However, her concerns shall be one of the more trying aspects of this project."

"Project?"

"Carrying it around a week or two, to paraphrase you." He looked to the mirror in the hall. Usually he had such a thin face, and now that it was filling out it was to him a painful attention-drawer.

"You're going to get bigger," Hiei pointed out, watching Kurama fuss. "All over, you'll fill out."

"Maybe," he replied offhandedly. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Hiei's face cloud. He narrowed his eyes, turned to look at the Jaganshi directly. "You don't want me to get rid of it," he said bluntly.

Hiei shifted his position on the couch, staring at the floor. "I don't like the term 'get rid of.'"

"Hiei, do you realize how much it would cost if I kept it? Not just fiscally—my job, my family, being able to walk inconspicuously down the street …"

"Are you blind?" Hiei asked quietly. "I'm right here. I would help you with everything. You didn't get this way by yourself, after all."

Kurama stared at him, and then looked away. "I'm not going to put off deciding."

Hiei clenched his teeth. "I … don't want you to get rid of it," he confirmed.

The Fox sighed. He had never foreseen this obstacle coming between Hiei and him. "And what happens if I do?" Hiei didn't answer. "Hiei, what if I do?"

He received a solemn stare. "… When you say that you might 'get rid of it,' I remember seeing the Makai below me, and a hand that kept me from falling, until it was pressured to let go." Hiei paused. "And then I think," he continued, "of how torturous it would have been, had that hand been crueler, and decided to play a game of drop and snatch on the precipice." Another pause. "To me … that is what you're doing right now."

His mate wore an expression that he couldn't decipher. And then Kurama seemed to look through him, blinking rapidly. "I'm sorry—that you think I'm cruel. But, perhaps you'd think differently if you were in my position." The redhead rose, and went back to the bedroom.

Hiei watched him go, heard the door shut. And then he stretched out on the couch—and, for at least tonight, his bed—and stared at the floor, the design on the rug blurring in his eyes. He'd forgiven the night with Yusuke, but he wasn't sure he could forgive this.

You know, one of my last American Government assignments was a brief essay over where I stand on the case of Roe v. Wade. I disliked the topic, because I have no clear ground that can be easily explained in such a brief essay, but I do like this; this allows for a bit of exploration into that area, which I think is good. It is good, I believe, for one to be able to tackle ... unusual, if that's the proper word, topics, and I'm glad I'm doing that, not only this, but with Jagamino as well (topic that's going to be examined in that one: polygamy. My stance? Wait and find out!).