The door of Koenma's office closes. Botan and Kurama stand in the hall, lagging behind Yusuke, Kuwabara and Hiei. They share a look but say nothing.
"Oi, Botan!" Yusuke yells, making the deity snap to attention. "Keiko said not to forget about Friday night." He winks at the blue-haired girl and turns to deliver an insult to Kuwabara who starts chasing him. Hiei makes a sound that could mean anything – and in this case it is almost certainly agreement to what Yusuke says – and walks away with quick steps. That only leaves two persons in the hall.
Not one to waste perfectly good time, Kurama slides his hand along the length of Botan's arm. He stops at her wrist and gives a gentle squeeze. For some reason he has a fixation with her tiny wrists and hands. "What's Friday night?" he asks, pulling her behind a column.
"Movie night," Botan replies distractedly. It's especially hard to form coherent thoughts when she can feel him so close to her. "Keiko really wants me to watch this horror flick with her." She tenses when his mouth lingers just before the corner of her lips. Botan really doesn't know how to handle what they have. "What are you doing?" She feels stupid for asking.
Kurama retreats just a beat. He peers at her through long lashes. "I'm kissing you." And with that he leans into her, his frame covering hers. Smooth lips tease hers and Botan closes her eyes instinctively. That rush she experiences whenever Kurama touches her is present now too. The surprising thing is that the kiss is not aggressive. In fact it's quite tame. It's more of a caress against her lips, sweet and slow, and painfully tender. What she feels is sharing, not so much a claiming. The deity thinks she might cry in sheer joy. Because this just proves that what they have is love.
Botan is not naive enough to not know that he is restraining himself. The fingers that dig into her hips, holding her at a safe distance, tell her that at least. He is as much a demon as he is human and the young ferry girl has actually studied demons. They are feral creatures, their lust for blood rivalled only by their desire for flesh. And the hunger is just beneath the cool faced her lover – she can't think of him as anything else at this point, so she can't call him anything but that – puts on. Releasing a noise she doesn't know she was capable of making, Botan grips Kurama a little above his elbows.
(Youko savours the tight clutch she exerts. She's not letting him slip away. Good, because the nails pressing into her skin grow longer, almost imperceptibly. She who invites lures him in with the smallest of sighs.)
"How long will you stay?" The words glide along her skin, leaving excitement in their wake. Kurama disengages from her hold. He entwines his fingers with hers and looks expectantly at her.
"Sunday." Because Koenma can't really afford to let her off for long and because Botan herself knows she can't be gone for long. But Sunday is good enough. "Until Sunday." More important though, she's chocking on words. The butterflies in her stomach won't leave her be.
"We're meeting at Genkai's on Saturday." From the way she hums in agreement, Kurama knows she'll be there too. Returning his lips to hers he gives Botan a lingering kiss.
Footsteps in hall, the clicking of wood on tiles makes them break apart. Botan tries to force her face into a neutral look. She can never quite do it. Kurama is a master at it. They have agreed not to make it known that they are a couple. Dating just isn't the right word, because he is a demon and she a ferry guide. They are not teenagers in a romantic story. Out of reflex – that ever present need to protect her – Kurama steps out of the shadows first. There is no one in the hall. He motions Botan over.
"Will I see you before Saturday?" His question startles her out of her reverie. The young woman hurries out of her hiding spot and stops next to him. "Will I?"
"I am not sure," she says and her voice holds just a hint of apology. "With the tournament I have been neglecting work. There is no promise I can make, but I'll try."
Trying is all he can really ask of her. "Just don't overexert yourself," Kurama cautions with a small laugh. Botan can pour all of her energy into something and it usually leaves her too tired to do anything after.
(Not that Youko would mind her exhaustion if he gets to carry her. Any excuse to stick close to her is good to him. But he'll take whatever he can get. Group meetings will have to do.)
Ningenkai, the human realm, feels barren in her absence. Kurama chalks that to having seen so very little of her. Between missions, babysitting Urameshi and gathering information for Reikai, the fox doesn't have near as much time as he'd like in her presence. He grits his teeth and pushes himself forward. The knowledge that it won't always be like this sustains him.
All these barriers between them will fall apart. Kurama draws a deep breath and makes his way along the busy street. He smiles at the thought of his mother waiting for him. Shiori Minamino taught him what it was to be human. Kurama will always be grateful to his human mother for that. However he knows that she won't always be here. Eventually, like all humans she will shrivel and fade. Her lifespan is the proverbial blink of an eye for a demon. Much more so for Kurama who has already passed three thousand years. The duration of a demon's existence, like that of an apparition, is a great deal lengthier.
"Shuichi, you're home!" his mother greets him when he steps in the hall. "How was it? Did you have fun with your friends?"
"Yes, mother. We had a great time." He adds a smile for the woman's benefit. This lull in his ever complicated life is not unwelcome. "And you, mother? What have you been doing?"
Shiori cocks her head to the side. She seems unsure of what to say. In the end she lets a small smile cross her features. "I met someone," she tells her son.
Stunned into silence, the young man regards his mother intently. The words finally sink in. "That's great!" It's her happiness they're talking about after all.
Relief registers on her face. "I would like you to meet him."
"I would like that too," Kurama agrees.
A/N: inspired by: caesura - a pause in a line of verse, usually in poetry