Well now, as of yesterday, I can now write, read, and watch steamy lemony goodness legally—as in, I am now recognized by the United States government as an adult, haha!

Okay, now that that announcement is over and done with, this chapter shall solve one problem, while still carrying others, and so I hope that the reader does not consider this chapter ten pages wasted. That said:


What's Yours is Mine
Chapter IV
June 29, 2007

They weren't "sleeping together"—Hiei had made no advances, and Kurama no offers—but sleeping in the same bed again had helped smooth out the recent rifts. Hiei was as protective as ever, to Kurama's chagrin, but this now included taking care in the bedroom, since he had as of late taken to retiring earlier and rising later than the Koorime; also, the latter brought up no more talk of their child's fate, or the impending decision of which. Since the notion that Kurama could be in danger had rooted itself in Hiei's mind, new concerns apparently overshadowed the former for the moment.

Kurama had made a doctor's appointment in the Makai for later next week. He wasn't sure how to tell Hiei.


He made the last of his purchases and left the mall. It was nearing six-thirty, but he'd forewarned Hiei that he would be late coming home. The Koorime probably thought that he'd gone to the temple again, a practice he'd kept up to help unwind—though now Yukina asked every time if he might want to talk to her or Genkai (who kept mercifully silent about his visits) about his "spiritual dilemma."

The aroma of dinner greeted him when he came home, and he was happy that his stomach didn't churn from it. "Did you get what you need?" Hiei inquired, eyeing his bags.

"Yes," replied the Fox, depositing the goods on the table. Hiei watched curiously as he withdrew the contents of the first bag: A new pair of shoes. "My old ones are too small now," Kurama explained. From the second, he took a sleek green bottle with gold foil encircled at its top. "Sparkling grape juice."

Hiei quirked an eyebrow. "Sparkling?"

"Consider it something like non-alcoholic Western wine. I thought we'd have it with dinner. And then, this." Kurama pulled out the final article: A book. Hiei rolled his eyes; he was by now well-acquainted with the novels, biographies, texts, anthologies, and all the other things book-related that made up his mate's unofficial library, which saw frequent additions. "I thought that you might give this part a look-over," the redhead continued, as though having not seen his sarcastic expression. Green eyes scanned the table of contents, and then a slender finger opened the book some two-thirds of the way through, pointing out a page. Hiei took it, his eyes scanning over the title at the top:

"Chapter 7: The Role of the Father and Sexual Relations," he read, blinking.

Kurama shifted footing. "We'll have to improvise in some places, of course, given that I … I'm not a woman…. I have an appointment next week, to determine just what all is going on."

It dawned on Hiei just what Kurama was trying to say. "… And you'll make sure that you are okay, too?"

"I'm too much of a self-interested person not to," the Fox answered with a shrug. Hiei nodded thoughtfully, blinking suspiciously rapidly. Kurama raised an eyebrow. "I hope you realize the depth of what it is you've gotten into—"

"I'm fine with all of that," Hiei said, waving it off. "I know it won't be easy. Sit down, dinner's ready—"

"One thing I'd like to clarify right now," Kurama interrupted. "I do not want you acting like my keeper, understand?" He questioned the utility of this request, though, as he was sure that Hiei wasn't aware of his own behavior. "I can do things for myself," he stressed.

Hiei nodded, surprised by Kurama's obstinance. "You dish up dinner, then ," he replied, sitting down. Trying to save face, he added, "Who do you think I am, anyhow—your Mother?"


Ever since Kazuya had confided to her that Shuichi had cried at work, Shiori had tried getting together with her son. Each time, he had come up with a conflicting engagement. Several times she had called on his days off, but each time Hiei was the one who answered, and always said that Shuichi was either asleep—in the middle of the day—or didn't fell well. Her worries had elevated further in the past week after hearing that Shuichi had taken a syringe into the restroom with him. She and Kazuya had drawn the conclusion that their son was ill, and not like someone with the flu, either; or that something else was going on behind the newly "wedded" couple's doors, of which their new son-"in-law" was offering no details.

However, a friend of Shuichi's had. A petite girl with an apparent penchant for hair dye, Yukina (whose full name Shiori had never caught) had said that he'd taken to visiting the temple that she seemed to live at. He always came in the late afternoon, so most likely right after work, Shiori deduced; and always routinely, making it fairly easy to "ambush" him.

Indeed, he did appear quite startled when she stepped in front of him one evening as he was leaving. "We," she said firmly, "need to talk." He opened his mouth to say something. "You're acting very unlike yourself," she cut him off. "You're trying to avoid your family. You're always 'asleep' or 'sick' whenever I try to get together with you, and I hear that you're constantly dodging Kazuya at work—but he does still get a look at you, Shuichi, and other people there do talk, and … we're concerned, Shuichi. And since you're not talking, we're left here wondering if you're seriously ill, or if Hiei's being abusive—"

"Why do so many people seem so assume that?" he said in annoyance, recalling Yusuke's accusations in the ramen shop. "Mother, look at him, and then look at me: If it came down to it, I'm sure he'd need an ambulance before I did." What were they in the others' eyes, the damsel and the monster? Both comparisons made him angry, and yet the sheer preposterousness of it made him laugh.

This distressed Shiori. "Shuichi, please! I'm really worried about you."

"I … believe you're communicated that fairly well," he replied. At least she wasn't being neurotic like Yusuke. "You are right," he admitted, "we do need to talk—and I think that Hiei needs to be involved, too. Did you drive?"

She had. She'd prepared for anything, even being here till nightfall, if he proved noncompliant. But this wasn't the case, and he quite willfully got into the front passenger's seat of her car. "You were crying at work one day," she said, making sure he'd buckled his seatbelt before starting the car.

He furrowed his brow, but then remembered his countenance on the day that he had confessed his situation to Yusuke. "Oh, yes, I suppose I did once." He pulled a small bag of peanuts from his pocket. "May I eat in here? I'm trying to gain weight." Shiori gave him a curious look. "It's for my, ah, condition."

His elaboration begot a raised eyebrow. "So you are sick, then." She sounded hurt.

"No, Mother, I'm not sick, per se …"

"Why did you inject yourself with a syringe at work?"

He widened his eyes, appalled that someone would pay that much attention in the employees' restroom. "Those were hormones; I didn't have time that morning before work to—"

"Are you transgender?" she suddenly asked, staring at him apprehensively.

"No!" The question hit closer to home than she knew. "No—Mother, I'd be more comfortable discussing this when you're not driving." Naturally, this statement seemed to make her even more anxious. "I'm not in danger, Mother," he assured her, but it didn't help much.

Hiei was folding laundry when they arrived. 'And people so quickly deem him malevolent,' Kurama though, watching the Koorime matching socks into pairs, and then looking up at his mother and him. "Our time's up, Hiei," he said. "We, ah, have to tell her…." The other demon eyed them both more studiously, slowly nodded, and rearranged the laundry so that everyone might be seated. "Hiei, why don't you take off your headband?" Kurama ventured. His request was met with a skeptical stare. "Please? For the sake of the—discussion at hand?" His mate frowned, but reluctantly removed the ward. Immediately, the Jagan shot wide open.

Shiori recoiled and let out an involuntary shriek. Kurama grabbed her hand. "It's okay," he said soothingly, "But don't look into it." She nodded, too shocked to conjure words. "You enjoy folklore, Mother; perhaps you recall reading about the Jagan?" For a moment all she did was stare at him, but then she slowly nodded. "I recall you once told me how strange you thought Hiei's surname was." (Hiei scowled.) "He didn't inherit it. As you can see, he earned it." He paused. "Hiei is a demon, Mother—like the ones in the stories."

Shiori gawked at Hiei's Jagan again, but remembered her son's warning and averted her gaze. "Okay," she managed. What more could she say—Her son-"in-law" was looking at her with all three eyes.

Kurama doubted the sincerity of her response, but it was a start. "Hiei's a demon," he repeated, "and—so am I."

Suddenly, Shiori's son was far more interesting than Hiei's third eye. "What?"

He seemed hesitant, and ran a hand through his hair. "In folklore," he began, "perhaps you remember a creature called—" His hand clutched hers tightly, and she jumped as half a dozen orange blossoms sprung to life in his other hand. "—the Kitsune?"

At Hiei's suggestion, mother and son both sat down, and Kurama attempted to explain as much of his origins to his mother as possible, while trying his best not to alarm her too much. The orange blossoms had a calming effect on both of them, making Shiori less jumpy and Kurama more open. "… despite becoming a proper demon—or, close to it—again, I chose to stay in the Ningenkai," he concluded, "where my family is." Shiori nodded slowly, and emboldened by her reception thus far, Kurama decided it appropriate to share his final bit of information. "Mother, I went through some physical changes as the demonic energy in this body matured. Some were blatant; others were, apparently, very subtle." He paused. "The latter ones are why I've been avoiding you, among others …"

Shiori stared at him, her concern renewed. "Shuichi, what's happening? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's really wrong, but, I …" He shrugged. "I'm pregnant."

She didn't say anything. She just stared at him. Suddenly he became hyper-aware of his slight physical changes, sure that she was scrutinizing these. "I went to a doctor not long ago, one in the Makai," he hastily added. "After that was when I began taking shots." Not only did they contain sex hormones, which he hated thinking about, they were demonic hormones supposed to help reconcile his reproductive organs with the rest of his body. "I don't know if it will disperse your worries or increase them," he continued nervously, "But I'm not ill." 'And Hiei's not hitting me….' But he wasn't going to voice that thought there, in front of the demon accused. He bit down on his tongue for fear of rambling, and waited for a reaction from his mother.

The staring persisted, to the point that he thought he might implode. And then she embraced him, so tightly that it hurt a little, and said, "You must not be far along."

"About three months," he replied, trying not to squirm. He glanced over at Hiei, caught the Jaganshi's eye, and smiled a little.

His mother released him, and moved towards the phone. "We should really call Kazuya and tell him," she exclaimed. "He's worried about you too, you know."

Kurama paled a little. Telling his mother had been hard enough; over the phone, Kazuya wouldn't be able to see attributes at hand to prove that they weren't insane. And yet Shiori was already dialing the number for the Hatanaka house. "… Of course," he murmured, though clearly this was a superficial permission.

Hiei smirked, leaned over, and rubbed Kurama's shoulders while the Kitsune stared blankly into space as though catatonic. "She's supposed to be the hardest one, right?" Kurama nodded slowly, trying to take comfort from that fact.


Hiei's words were prophetic, as telling Shiori was like throwing a torch on the pyre; everyone soon learned from the enthusiastic grandmother of Kurama's condition. "Your mother," Hiei declared, listening to the latest message on the answering machine—Yusuke, kissing Kurama's feet and renewing his promise to help out (Yeah, right, thought the Koorime)—, "is a gossip."

Kurama shrugged diffidently. "I suppose they were all starting to worry," he reasoned. "Let her explain it to everyone else if she wants." He sure didn't mind her explaining the details to everyone for him.

Someone knocked on the door. 'Only a matter of time,' he thought, getting up to answer it.

He found a grinning Kuwabara on the doorstep. "Found a solution to your spiritual dilemma?" inquired the carrot-top.

The Fox smiled wryly. "Perhaps—Found an explanation to Yukina about drag queens?"

Kuwabara laughed. "So you heard that question. But it wasn't so freaky to her; she told me that ice maidens reproduce parthenogenetically, which I guess kind of makes them a race of hermaphrodites … that's kinda 'third gender,' right?"

"And … the hermaphrodite matter doesn't bother you at all?" Kurama asked cautiously.

"Why? She's an ice maiden. The parthenogenesis is just a little detail—she's a girl to me."

"What is that word you keep saying?" Hiei demanded. "Partho…?"

"Asexual reproduction," Kurama defined. "Kuwabara's biology classes must be sticking to him."

"Yes, they are," answered the man in question. "But I've never read about anything like you in the classroom."

"He's not a thing," huffed Hiei, annoyed with stumbling over a word that Kuwabara had so perfectly articulated.

"I mean a case like his."

"I'd be surprised if there was much literature about such a thing," Kurama said honestly.

"Actually …" Kuwabara held up a fat envelope. "Genkai and Yukina wanted me to give this to you, and Yukina"—he took from his pack what appeared to be a care package of assorted snacks—"made these for you. So … You know what you're going to name it?"

"We don't even know its gender yet," Hiei said dryly from the kitchen.

"I was just asking," Kuwabara defended. "Uh, Kurama, you wanna see if Yukina'll make more of those for you? If I were you, I wouldn't trust someone so poisonous around my food."

"Kuwabara, I might point out that most of the food at our commitment ceremony was prepared by Hiei."

"And if you were him, there wouldn't have been any ceremony," Hiei muttered darkly, though the astonished look on Kuwabara's face pleased him.

"… The food was better than the wedding …" Kuwabara muttered sheepishly, the word "better" looking like it hurt to utter.

This pleased Hiei further—though, again, the significance of ceremony versus wedding perplexed him, and he reminded himself to ask Kurama later to elaborate.

Kurama watched Hiei slyly, and remarked, "Perhaps you and Yukina can save money on caterers, Kuwabara, and have Hiei cook for your wedding."


"You'll have to face that as a possibility, you know," Kurama said. Kuwabara had left some time before, and Hiei was skulking. "They've been dating."

"Door," Hiei muttered. He rolled his eyes and answered it.

It was Yusuke. "How are…?" the brunette began to ask, but he trailed off, and gawked at Kurama.

"What?" the Fox said cautiously.

His friend pointed. "You've got chipmunk cheeks!" Yusuke exclaimed.

"… I suppose I do," he affirmed. Somewhere behind him, Hiei snorted. "Did you come over here to make me a spectacle?"

"Eh—no." Yusuke stepped inside. "I wanted to see how you were and stuff. Um … Are you feeling sick at all?"

"Every morning," Hiei answered in Kurama's stead. "Would you like to get up early so you'll be here in time to hold back his hair?"

Yusuke looked mortified at the thought. "Um … Um—when are you going to blow up?" he asked Kurama hastily.

"I don't believe it happens quite that way," the redhead replied, amused with Yusuke's reaction.

"Okay, so you get the chipmunk cheeks, and then the pot belly?"

Kurama rested his head in one hand while gesturing with the other. "Something like that."

Yusuke nodded thoughtfully. "Cool. I mean, I won't mind when you get big or anything."

"I will," the redhead remarked.

"You'll still look good."

"I won't be able to move."

"Well, I can do things for you if you need it."

Yusuke's sappiness was beginning to putrefy in Hiei's ears. "Is Keiko going to volunteer as well?" he asked.

The brunette's face went blank. "Uh …" He shrugged. "Actually, Kurama, I think she said something about maybe taking you clothes shopping sometime or whatever." He furrowed his brows. "Hey, when it's born—Wait, how's it gong to be born?"

"The way most mammals are," Kurama answered patiently. "Now, when it's born…?"

"What's it going to say on the birth certificate?"

Hiei frowned. "The what?"

Kurama didn't answer. He stared at his feet—how long until he could no longer see them?—and took a deep breath. "I've considered it," he finally said. "I have an idea, though it's still sketchy."

"What is a birth certificate?" Hiei pressed.

"It's a custom in the Ningenkai. It lists details such as the child's date of birth, its parents—and since the circumstances of this child are rather extraordinary, we may hit a snag there."

"What's the idea?" Yusuke asked.

"Don't worry about it right now," Kurama said nonchalantly.

"All right—But, if you need any help with it, let me know."

The Kitsune smiled. "I appreciate your enthusiasm, Yusuke."

"Yeah, well …" He shrugged. "I want to be involved."

Hiei glowered at the floor. How nice it must be, he wagered, to have sex and then drop in when it's convenient.


"Yusuke's a little coarse in this field," Kurama said, unbuttoning his shirt, "But at least he's willing to help out."

"Do we need help?" Hiei muttered, staring at the ceiling.

He was nude. It'd taken him a while to adjust to sleeping in a bed, and even longer to not sleeping in his clothes. Kurama had given him one or two pairs of pajamas, which he'd worn just about that frequently, and now he seemed more than used to sleeping minus any clothes whatsoever. It cut down on the time between arousal and satisfaction, the Fox thought—usually.

"He doesn't take us seriously."

"Yusuke?" Kurama gave him a curious look. "How do you figure?"

"He doesn't think we're 'official,' or …" Hiei shrugged, forgetting Yusuke's precise words.

The curious look persisted, and then realization washed over Kurama's face. "Oh. Well technically speaking—he's right."

Hiei stared, startled. He'd assumed that Yusuke was talking out his ass. "How?"

"… The government recognized Yusuke's and Keiko's wedding as meaning that they're married. It doesn't recognize our commitment ceremony the same—well, actually, it doesn't recognize our ceremony at all." Kurama gave him a sober look. "We're different from Yusuke and Keiko, if you follow."

A few moments passed, and then Hiei smirked sardonically. "Heh. They base their society off of sex—primitives."

"Does that bother you so much, Hiei?"

The Jaganshi frowned. "I should have what Yusuke has," he resolved.

Kurama watched him pensively. "I … I could remedy that, a little." Hiei raised an eyebrow. "It won't be the exact same, and it will take time…."

Did Kurama have the sort of influence to accomplish something like that? And yet the redhead seemed dead serious. He was undressed now, realized Hiei, whose gaze slipped downwards. It'd been a while …

Kurama noticed the shift in Hiei's eyes. "Ah—there's something I should warn you about. What with the hormones"—his face began to pink—"I'm not sure when we'll be able to do that again. To be more descript …" He donned a pained look. "I don't think I can right now."

Kurama wasn't getting erections, Hiei realized. Considering the latter's feelings, he met his mate's shamed face with a passive one. "If it's hormonal, then it's temporary," he deduced.

"Temporary's indefinite," Kurama grumbled, lying down beside him. And then, his tone changing, the Kitsune said, "Here," and seizing Hiei's hand, positioned it atop his stomach. "Its energy is more tangible."

Kurama was right. Hiei had sensed the creature before simply as a shift in Kurama's energy; now, it had its own distinct from that of his companion's. "Just one," he remarked.

"Litters are not uncommon," the redhead stated, "in full Kitsune. Any more may not have been healthy." He smiled. "Besides, do you really desire to chase around after three or four fire foxes, or whatever the case may be?"

The prospect of such a situation admittedly wasn't appealing. "Whatever the case may be?" Hiei repeated.

He received an apprehensive smile. "A litter could have eight, sometimes more; that's not a pleasant thought at all."

Three or four could kill Kurama, let alone eight, but Hiei caught the message beneath the multiples: That the child might be a Mazoku-Kitsune hybrid; the offspring of Yusuke and Kurama—and not Kurama and him.