A/N: Concerning my re-wioop-ing project: Aside from the change in chapter number, this one was actually left untouched! Consequently, it's shorter than Chapter III and Chapter V, but it didn't fit in right with either of them, so oh well. This was Chapter VII of the original WIOOP?

Was It Out of Pity?
Chapter IV
Edited: June 6, 2007

Yusuke stalked down the street, a sour expression on his face. Rejected, again. This was his third rejection this week. He didn't understand; why did nobody want to hire him? Could it be that Kurama was right? Was his behavior some sort of job-repellant?

Keiko most likely wouldn't receive this news very well. She couldn't understand why he was having such trouble locating employment; after all, she'd managed to land a job as a waitress in a restaurant downtown. Then again, she'd always been the one with the more appealing personality, and they both knew it.

He stepped out into the street, and cringed when he heard the squeal of car tires. 'Oh, this is terrific,' he thought sarcastically. The last thing he needed today was a trip to the emergency room.

"Yusuke, what on Earth are you doing?"

He opened his eyes. "Huh?" Before him was a beaten-up, boxy-shaped car of an off-copper hue, piloted by a familiar redhead. "Hey, Fox-boy," he called wearily. "It's been awhile, huh?"

A line of cars had developed behind Kurama's; several drivers were now shouting and honking their horns. The Fox leaned over and opened the passenger door. "Get in," he said.

Yusuke complied, and Kurama continued driving. "Can't you afford something better than this?" he asked, examining the car's interior. The seats were brownish-burgundy, wires protruding from the upholstery here and there. The fabric of the ceiling was a burnt reddish orange-brown color; portions of the material hung down, like the ceiling of a tent might, and parts were torn and tattered. It wasn't something Yusuke would imagine Kurama owning.

"I can," Kurama answered. "But I like this car. New isn't necessarily better, Yusuke. This is a lot sturdier than many of the newer models. Besides, I feel it's quite comfortable." Yusuke had to admit, the car did feel rather roomy. "I drove by your shop this morning. It looked like it was closed."

"Oh, yeah. I guess it really has been while since we've talked, huh?" He sighed. "Keiko and I decided that since business wasn't exactly booming, we're closing shop awhile and finding work elsewhere."

"I'm sorry," Kurama said. However, he couldn't claim that he was completely surprised.

"Eh." Yusuke shrugged. "Things could be a lot worse." He looked Kurama over. "How's it going for you?"

Kurama's mouth pursed into a tight-lipped frown, and he shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know," he said.

"You look tired." Kurama shrugged again.

"Where are you working now?" the Fox asked, changing the subject.

"Um, nowhere," Yusuke admitted. "I was just turned down for a job again."

"Oh," his friend said, in a slightly amused tone. "Well, I hardly think a bad day qualifies as grounds for throwing yourself into oncoming traffic," he teased.

"Hey, I just wasn't watching where I was going…."

"Rather unwise, Yusuke, given your history with cars." Kurama lapsed into silence for several minutes. "Yusuke," he spoke in a more serious tone. "May I ask you something?"

"You just did," Yusuke joked. He faltered though, when he noticed the look on the other's face. "What is it?"

Kurama swallowed, feeling dry-throated suddenly. "Ah, what was the last mission we went on?"

He received a quirked eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Never mind," he murmured, shaking his head. "I was just wondering…" he trailed off. "Where do you want me to take you?"

Yusuke thought a moment. "I don't know," he said. "Hey, are you done working today?" Kurama nodded. "Do you want to go find Kuwabara? We could all go hang out somewhere."

"I'm afraid I'll have to pass," Kurama replied, throwing Yusuke a side-glance.

"Oh." Yusuke smiled, concealing his disappointment. "Too bad, huh? No one sees you anymore."

"I've had a lot to do lately, a lot to think about, and little time on my hands to do it all." He bit his lip. "Work has been rather stressful," he admitted. "I wish I did have time to visit," he added softly.

Yusuke quietly observed his friend, brow furrowed. There was something about Kurama that seemed off somehow, but he couldn't identify what. "Well, another time then." He looked out the window. "We're pretty close by the apartment; you can let me out here." Kurama nodded absently and pulled over.

"If you wanted, I could talk to my step-father. He may be able to find somewhere for you to work…."

"Um, okay. Thanks, Fox-boy." He smiled. "Maybe you'll find some time to hang out soon, huh?" Kurama shrugged, and waved before driving off. Yusuke stared after the car a moment, and then turned toward the apartment building, dreading how Keiko may react to his not-so-good news.

Kurama parked his car on the street, got out, and continued on foot. Where he was going, he wasn't entirely sure. Lately if felt as though he was living in a fog; his mind often wandered at work and home, making it difficult to concentrate, and he was experiencing trouble sleeping.

Last night he had dreamt that a man with long brown hair and the most intense seal-colored eyes he'd ever seen had given him a drink of water. The dream had ended when he woke up feeling feverish and very thirsty. He didn't get back to sleep the rest of the night. Instead, he lay back on top of the bed sheets and enjoyed the feel of a cool spring breeze against his naked skin, contemplating his strange dreams and (as he often did) what may have happened during his lost month. As time moved on his curiosity consumed him more and more—he was near the point of setting aside his normal concerns and confessing to his mother what it was that ate at him, hoping she may have an answer.

It occurred to Kurama that he'd just turned the same corner for the fourth time. 'This is pathetic,' he realized. 'I'm achieving nothing walking in circles.' His body felt heavy; he returned to his car.

He glanced in the mirror while he drove. There were no cars behind him; all he saw was a pair of confused green eyes staring back at him. He watched entranced, as the green eyes morphed into somber garnet ones, then sad brown ones, and finally cruel blue ones.

His vision dimmed as his own eyes gradually closed; his head fell to rest on the steering wheel; his mind didn't register that his car had risen up on the curb; his body didn't feel the impact as the car drove into the telephone pole.