A/N: In response to the feedback I've received, I've decided to make this into a series of oneshots that may cross genres. I'm not going to write longer stories, though I may develop the HK angle a bit – as people who've read my other stories may know, I'm not really into writing romance.
Of Windows and Flu.
Hiei hopped through the window, took one look at Kurama and promptly began to snicker.
'I hade you,' Kurama said from the bed where he was huddled under a mountain of blankets. 'Sdop laughing, dabbit.' He sniffled and blew his nose into a handkerchief before burying his head under the blankets until the jaganshi could only see a tangle of bright red hair.
Hiei refused to comply.
'Sod obb,' the hair said moodily. Hiei stopped, recognising the real irritation in Kurama's voice.
'Are you actually sick, fox?'
'You know, dis is jusdice,' the hair complained. 'Doo years I dry do bake you lab and dis is what it dakes. Sobebody's labing, I'b sure of id, but dot be.'
'You're talking funny,' Hiei observed, deliberately not mentioning his laughter.
'Dere's a bland in the selb,' said the hair. 'Green, small, bink flowers, sbells sdrong. Dyou hand id do be?'
Hiei hunted through the little shelf where Kurama kept his medicinal plants, briefly noting the false back and deciding not to look into it. The last time he had Become Bored in Kurama's seed shelf he had wound up with some nasty cuts on his wrist from trying to reach past the Makai version of a Venus flytrap. He located the small, strong-smelling plant and walked over to Kurama. He rapped the pile of bedding impatiently and a long, well-covered arm reached out and grabbed the plant, dragging it into the bedding.
'I'm not going to talk to your hair, fox,' Hiei said, and Kurama's head popped out reluctantly.
The fox looked, well, awful. The appearance of people didn't generally matter to Hiei. Dead, Dying and Alive were the three main categories of looks that Hiei routinely acknowledged. Still, over the last few months he had found himself……attentive of the fox.
Kurama's eyes were bloodshot and puffy. His nose was red and his face was pale. Hiei watched as he crushed the leaves and dabbed the clear oil it secreted over his forehead, nose and throat. 'M-n-t-q-p,' he said experimentally before drawing in a deep breath; his nose cleared. 'There, that's much nicer.'
'Question. Why didn't you do that before?'
'Eight-hour doses,' the redhead said, glaring balefully at Hiei. Apparently, he hadn't forgotten being laughed at. 'Unless I want my lungs and brain deep-fried by the oil. The plant's a little……enthusiastic.'
'Oh.'
Silence fell. Kurama blew his nose. Hiei counted the number of leaves on the tree opposite Kurama's bedroom. Twice.
'So how come you got sick? It's not exactly a demon thing.' He continued to look outside, not needing to see Kurama to feel the icy stare his back was receiving.
Kurama sniffed. 'Apparently, my human half is not unsusceptible to disease. And while I can heal myself of just about any injury, and prevent or cure most dangerous diseases, I'm afraid I can't do much against the common cold.' His eyes glinted golden for a brief second. 'I don't like it.'
The jaganshi watched him carefully. He knew Kurama, knew the incredibly convoluted thought-processes the fox used; he could even say that he knew him better than anyone else alive. But he didn't actually know Youko Kurama at all; and from what he had seen, the youkai had a certain air of danger and innate arrogance that was more like Hiei himself than the reserved Kurama.
'Do you mind if I get back in the blankets?' Kurama said petulantly. 'It's cold out here.'
'It would be warmer,' Hiei observed, 'if you kept your window locked. It doesn't shut all the way unless you do, you know.'
'Oh,' Kurama said, and he looked a little redder than he already was. 'I must have forgotten.'
Hiei eyed the fox narrowly as he closed the window. Kurama didn't do the whole forgetting thing. He was one of the most meticulous people Hiei knew. If that window was open, then he wanted it to be open. But……
At this point, Hiei's brain refused to go any further because it was in extreme danger of short-circuiting.
'Hn,' he grunted and shut the window. Kurama looked happier.
Another, longer silence.
'Ever wish you were a demon again?'
Now why had he asked that? He'd wanted to inquire into the plant Kurama had used, and look what came out. Kurama was apparently having the same thought, because he raised an eyebrow and made a sort of 'urk' sound.
Well, he wasn't going to repeat himself, so Hiei remained silent.
'What brought this on?' Kurama said finally.
Again, silence.
'Sometimes,' Kurama said. Hiei had learned something about Kurama in the time he'd known him. The fox rarely lied outright, he claimed that lies were easy to detect; but he had a gift with words that shifted meanings gently to the impression he wanted the listener to have. And occasionally, he was prone to fits of honesty. This seemed to be one of those moods. Or maybe he was sicker than Hiei thought. 'I don't know. At times like this, when I'm weakened by something that should barely have affected me…'
'You'd go back in a moment if you had a way, wouldn't you,' Hiei said, a statement, not a question.
'When I have to obey some stupid customs and laws, when all I want is to do what I desire and the devil take the rest……'
'And what you want always seems out of your reach……'
'And home's so far away……'
'But it'll never be the same even if you do find it……'
'…yeah,' Kurama finished with a sigh. 'I wish I was a demon again.'
'You could,' Hiei said, staring interestedly at the carpet, 'probably return if you so desired. Unlike certain others I can think of. Myself, mainly.'
'Not yet,' Kurama said, his glance darting instinctively to the door and the human beyond it who was blissfully unaware of her son's true identity. She wasn't at home today; he'd practically shoved her out the front door and told her to go out and stop worrying about a stupid cold. 'No, not yet.'
'I see,' Hiei said, and he did.
Kurama hauled himself out of bed and went to his desk, picking up a book he needed to read for his literature class. He was briefly surprised at how comfortable the room temperature was now. The room was much warmer now that the window was closed. He sneaked a look at the thermometer on the wall. It was five degrees warmer than he'd set the heater to be.
So that was Hiei, hmm.
He was quite familiar with the way the fire-youkai instinctively turned up the temperature whenever he was indoors. Hiei disliked the cold, and he disliked being wet even more. Kurama supposed it had something to do with not being as effective with fire attacks. But the temperature had already been adequate when Hiei came in. He must have used his powers to warm it up further.
There was a kind side to Hiei. Deep down. Somewhere. Okay, it was about as far down as the sixth level of the demon world, but there were occasional glimpses of it. The mere fact that Hiei hadn't yet killed Kuwabara in some incredibly painful way said that he was capable of it. The human was a good guy, but he didn't know when to stop. Unlike Yusuke, who didn't know, period. Although he did have some surprising insights at times.
And Kurama, unlike both, knew enough to accept that if he ever mentioned his rare lapses into consideration to Hiei he'd be a tiny pile of smoking ash in less time than it took to say 'Kokuryuuha'.
A few hours passed in a pleasant quietness. Hiei had a remarkable capacity for silence, and he didn't get twitchy and worried the way most people did when they were in a room with someone and there was no conversation. (Kurama had also considered that this could also be because such people were usually wondering if it was impolite to be quiet, and Hiei had either been born with no politeness or had spent years disciplining it out of his system.) The medicine was beginning to wear off again, and Kurama sniffled miserably as his nose slowly blocked with body fluids that his Youko aspect sneered at.
'You're starting to get sick again, aren't you?'
'Yeah,' Kurama said.
'Hn.'
'Mmm.' He picked up the book got back in the bed, feeling a familiar aura approaching. 'My mom's back. I told her to get out for six hours at least.' He checked the watch. Five and a half hours. Oh, well.
'Hn. Well, I'm off, fox.' With that rude dismissal, Hiei streaked out of the window. He was very uncomfortable around Shiori for reasons Kurama didn't understand.
Kurama sighed and tucked the small medicinal plant he had used under the covers. He might be able to wring another dose out of it. If only his mother didn't stuff him full of those stupid human antibiotics……
He fell asleep.
When he woke up, it was dark, and Shiori had cleaned his room, put his book away and tucked him in neatly. It was warm in the room, very warm, and Kurama realised that his fever must have broken. He felt well, better than he had in days. At this rate, he'd be back in school the day after tomorrow.
He was very sleepy and the bed was oh so comfortable right now, but Kurama pulled himself reluctantly from the warm tangle of blankets and went over to the window which Shiori had locked. He unlocked it, sighing slightly when it sprang open two inches and a flood of cold air entered the room. He stuffed a scarf in the gap, hoping it would help, and turned the heat up a little more.
Priorities were priorities, after all.
