Was It Out of Pity?
Chapter VII
Edited: June 11, 2007
(Again: December 3, 2007)
He had kissed Hiei, Kurama thought, staring listlessly at the carpet of his office. Bland carpet, lackadaisical room. Now he cursed himself for his actions. What had been running through his mind? For the past three days he'd been unable to sleep, he felt anxious, he was unable to concentrate. He had kissed Hiei, and now he may never see the Koorime again. He hadn't seen him since that day—what if his boldness had forfeited their friendship?
His discontent must have been worn on his face; Yusuke and Kazuya had asked him if something was the matter earlier in the day. He'd lied—What was he to do? Answer that he possessed and had expressed feelings for his best friend? Kurama didn't even want to imagine how that might go over.
Even people he did not know so well and vice versa inquired about him. "Perhaps it's not my place," Akira had said in passing, "but you don't look so well."
He'd stared, not liking that his problems seemed so visible. "There are no 'places,' Akira, and I feel fine."
"You're sure?"
"Yes," he insisted. "No," he changed his mind. "It doesn't matter." That was a lie, of course—but what did he care? This was but an acquaintance. "I think I might be in love."
"Oh? And aren't people usually giddy when they're in love?"
"It's with another man," he said flatly.
He expected, at best, discomfort from the other man. Instead, Akira shrugged, saying, "And my girlfriend's black and talks with an accent—So what?"
So what. Kurama had gotten so used to adapting himself to what was expected; unless something major was at stake, he didn't usually ask "So what?" anymore. But then, he thought, this was something major, wasn't it? This could cost him a friendship; this could estrange him from his family; this could….
When Yusuke arrived, Kurama didn't even greet him, just got in the car and drove. By now Yusuke knew better than to try to strike up a conversation. Lately Kurama had been withdrawn, barely talking to Yusuke, if he did at all. He'd just make eye contact or nod, or use some other form of body language to acknowledge him, and then he would drive.
Kurama looked almost sick, and Yusuke suspected something was bothering him, but when he inquired the Fox denied everything. Perhaps he would have continued questioning, except he was afraid of what the problem may be, and of how Kurama may behave if he asked too much. Keeping his uncharacteristic mood swings at the work place in mind, Yusuke decided it best not to go out of his way to do something that may annoy his friend.
"Thanks," he said when Kurama pulled over to let him out. "Uh, you're not going to work tomorrow too, are you? I mean, I'm only working Saturdays right now because I really need the money. But you, you don't need it, so why not take all the weekend off?"
"Your concern for my work schedule is most endearing," Kurama said cynically. "But I can manage it myself."
"Um, yeah," he said uncomfortably. "Good night." There was a diffident tone to his voice. Kurama felt a little bad then for his aggression, and forced a small smile in an effort to comfort the other, and then pulled back out among the traffic.
It was true; he was stable funds-wise, and thus didn't need to work on the weekends for the money. Today he had intended to catch up on work he was supposed to have done that week but hadn't managed to finish; however, his plan hadn't worked. It appeared he would have to return to his office tomorrow as well to complete what he should have completed today.
"Shuichi?" his mother called as he came through the door.
"Yes, Mother." He discovered Shiori in the kitchen. "Shall I help you prepare dinner?"
"No, I have it covered. But thank you anyhow." She turned around, and then stared when she saw him. "Shuichi, are you all right? You look ill…" Next thing he knew, there was approximately an inch of space between them while she examined his face intently.
"Mother, I'm fine," he insisted, pulling away. She made to protest. "I've had a few restless nights, but that is all."
"Okay," she said uncertainly. "But if there's anything troubling you, don't be afraid to tell me."
He faked a smile. "Of course, Mother." He despised himself for all the lying—it shamed him in a way, how easy, natural, it was to him—but for her, it was so much better than the truth. 'Yes, Mother, there is something troubling me. I think I love another man, and I kissed him on the lips. Would you be displeased if I told you that? Oh, and there's that other little thing … I'm really a demonic Fox apparition in human flesh.' He didn't even want to envision her reaction to that last one.
"Hey …" Shuichi came in, looking at Kurama curiously. "Do you know anything about logarithmic equations?"
"Um, I believe I remember some," he answered, amused. "I take it you need help?"
"Shuichi," Shiori called after the two. "Was Kazuya still at the office when you left?"
"Yes," Kurama replied. "He said their meeting would be over soon, and he'd be home in about half an hour." He barely managed to get the words out before Shuichi grabbed him and dragged him to the den.
They remained in there for almost a full hour while Kurama tried several times to explain logarithms to his stepbrother. It wasn't Shuichi's fault; on the contrary, he had been paying close attention and trying to work the problems out. Kurama just couldn't explain it clearly enough. Finally, he admitted defeat and apologized to Shuichi, blaming tiredness, and offering to try again later when he felt more refreshed.
Kazuya had already arrived home by the time they emerged from the den, and he and Shiori were waiting dinner on them. While they ate, Kazuya asked the redhead about work. Blushing slightly, he admitted to the older man that he had done little that day.
He earned a serious expression. "You normally get a lot more accomplished," he chided gently. "To tell you the truth, it worries me that you had to go in today to catch up, and now you tell me you're still behind."
"I know; I'm sorry. I plan to get it all done tomorrow—"
"No." He blinked in surprise, as it was his own mother who told him this. "You will not," she said firmly.
"I really need to finish—"
"She's right, Shuichi," Kazuya said. "I appreciate your work ethic, but you need to acknowledge your own limits. Remember your wreck? There's nothing to be gained from wearing yourself down."
He winced slightly at the mention of the accident. "Fine," he conceded. He finished his meal and excused himself from the table, promising Shuichi he would help him with his homework later.
Kurama retired to his bedroom. He examined his clock. It was a little after seven right now; he set it for eight. That should still five him enough time to help Shuichi. He lay down atop the covers of his bed and dozed off.
"Hiei, please, I wasn't—"
The Jaganshi wrenched his arm from Kurama's grasp. "I don't want to discuss it any further, Fox."
"Please, Hiei. I'm sorry. I didn't—"
"Shut up, Kurama!" Hiei growled. "Do not press this subject again." He shoved past the Fox, stalking away, not even looking at him.
Kurama stood frozen in place, staring after him. He felt strange. Hiei's words had stung so much, it surprised him. He bit his lip and tried composing himself. When he felt he was calm enough, he spoke. "Hiei," he tried.
Silence answered him. The Koorime refused to acknowledge him.
He opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was his hand, which was shaking. Kurama made an attempt to steady it, but failed. 'Why am I awake? The alarm hasn't—'
Suddenly the serenity of the room was shattered by a loud beeping noise. 'There it is,' he thought, turning it off. But why was he awake?
There came a knock at the door. 'Oh.' "Yes?"
"Shuichi?"
"Come in, Mother."
Shiori appeared. "Shuichi! You look terrible."
"Thanks," he muttered, absent-mindedly. Though he didn't look for a mirror in which to confirm it, she was probably right. "It's nothing."
"You're shaking."
Indeed he was. Looking down, he saw that both of his hands and arms were trembling. "B-bad dream," he managed, unable to even give her a false smile.
She examined him curiously. He'd been behaving oddly lately, and the news of bad dreams wasn't particularly comforting, but she supposed it was all a process of…. "There's a friend of yours downstairs," she said, pushing aside her worry. "He wants to see you."
"All right," he said distantly. "I'll be right down." After his mother left, he went to the bathroom and washed his face, hoping the puffiness from sleep would go down quickly. He avoided eye contact with his reflection in the mirror, not because he did in fact look sickly, but because he was still afraid from the hallucination he had experienced. A silly fear, a stupid one, he told himself, but one he found himself incapable of ignoring. He brushed out his hair and donned some fresh clothes. Deeming himself presentable, he went downstairs.
His family was in the living room, sitting and watching the news while they talked with one another. Kurama froze; Hiei was with them.
Not sitting down or speaking to any of them, he stood by the entryway, silent as usual. He was the first to notice Kurama's arrival; he looked up and stared the Kitsune in the eye, never blinking, the expression upon his face unreadable. Kurama felt his throat grow dry.
Kurama swallowed. "Hello, Hiei," he said. His friend remained silent. 'You wish for us to go elsewhere?' he asked telepathically. Hiei nodded. "Mother, Hiei and I are going for a walk, okay?"
Shiori nodded, but Shuichi opened his mouth. "I'll be back in time to help you," Kurama said before his little brother could protest. He followed Hiei outside.
No sooner had he shut the door did Hiei begin to walk down the street at a brisk pace. Kurama followed, struggling to keep up with the shorter demon. 'I need more exercise,' he realized, beginning to sweat lightly after a while. They traveled two blocks away from his home, five, eight, and still Hiei said nothing. The two continued their trek—to where, Kurama had no idea—and he was unable to say quiet any longer. "Hiei?" he asked carefully.
The Jaganshi stopped, allowing Kurama to take a breath. It felt like the air was expelled from his body, however, as Hiei finally spoke.
"We need to talk," he said bluntly.
"Yes?" Kurama asked. "Right here?" The city was as crowded by night as it was by day, and on every side of them people milled past.
"No." Hiei continued walking, Kurama pushing himself to keep in step with him. His stomach kept churning, he felt dizzy, sick. At one point he had to stop and lean against a wall, for fear he may collapse on the sidewalk. Hiei stopped and watched him. "Shall I slow down?" he asked.
"No," Kurama said, taking in uneven breaths. "I'm fine, it's just been a while since I've really gone out; I think my muscles have grown lazy."
"Can you walk a little further?"
"Of course," he said adamantly, following the Koorime.
Hiei led them to the same park that Kurama usually passed on the route to work. "We're here," he announced.
"You like this place, don't you?" Kurama remarked, trying to still the butterflies in his stomach.
"It's secluded," Hiei replied flatly. Kurama nodded. The two wandered about the place a few minutes, when Kurama found a tree with a bench beneath it and sat on the furniture, hunched over. "What's wrong?"
"I feel sick," Kurama replied honestly.
"Don't tell me you've been like this since Wednesday."
"Huh?"
"You're behaving like a rabbit who's smelt blood."
Kurama didn't reply. He shut his eyes and leaned back on the bench, taking a few deep breathes. When he opened his eyes again, it was to discover Hiei, perched on the back of the bench, looking down at him. "This feels familiar," he declared.
"Why did you kiss me?"
His stomach lurched. "I-I really don't know."
"You lie!" Hiei hissed. "Tell me why."
"You had me under pressure," he spat back, hating the cornered sensation he was experiencing. "You were grilling me, like you are now."
"So you kissed me just to shut me up; it meant nothing?"
"That's not true!" Kurama said before he could stop himself.
"Oh?"
He sighed; what had he to lose? At this point, it would appear that he was damned every which way no matter what he did. "It was more than that," he said quietly.
"What was it, then?"
"Why do you care?" Kurama asked.
Hiei clenched a fist, feeling bad, but this was a matter that he couldn't drop. "Because this involves me, Kurama, and I want to know."
The Fox felt like he might suffocate. "I love you," he murmured.
"What?" the Koorime asked sharply.
Kurama stood up, knees quivering so badly they barely supported him, and turned to face Hiei. It was odd: the fire demon remained on the back of the bench, thus standing taller than him. Like a judge at sentencing, and he the doomed man. "I love you," he said again, louder this time.
Hiei pondered Kurama's answer. After the unexpected kiss, Hiei had returned to Mukuro's fortress, feeling it best to give both himself and the Fox a few days to compose themselves—though, observing Kurama now, perhaps that hadn't been the best decision. He'd thought over the kiss a great while, and then went to Mukuro and debated it with her. It was she who had suggested the romantic motives for the kiss, but Hiei had doubted her idea … until now, that is. "You love me?"
"I'm sorry," Kurama said, ashamed.
"Why?"
"I … doubt you really desire my affections…"
"Not that. Why do you love me?"
"What?" The park was beginning to spin. "Hiei, it's hard to explain why. Does anyone ever have a reason for loving someone else?" He glanced at him. Hiei's brow was furrowed, his eyes narrowed, in deep thought—but Kurama misinterpreted it as disgust.
Movement broke Hiei's concentration. He saw that the redhead was falling backward. "Kurama!" He jumped off the bench and grabbed him by the shirt, trying to keep him upright.
Kurama regained himself, and stepped back from Hiei. "I'm sorry; I shouldn't have said anything."
He and Kurama were a lot alike. Kurama also tried to keep everything under the surface, where others could not see it. He did not want to display his true emotions, feeling they were his own issues, not wanting to burden others by displaying them. "Why haven't you ever told me?"
"I doubt you feel the same," Kurama muttered.
"How would you know what I feel, Kurama?" he asked softly.
"I—don't know. I assume."
"You make too many assumptions."
"My mother would be displeased," he said, changing the subject somewhat. "I doubt many human mothers want to hear their son is gay."
"Quit assuming things." Hiei paused. "What do you think I'll do?"
"I don't know. Leave?"
"You think I'm angry with you?"
"I don't know. How am I supposed to? You don't show what you don't want me to know."
Hiei was quiet, and didn't reply. A few minutes passed, and then a few more. "You don't have to answer me," Kurama said quietly. His normal composure had returned. "I didn't really expect one anyway." He looked embarrassed. "I'm sorry; I never meant to trouble you with any of this. I should have been wiser, instead of doing and saying things best left alo—"
He felt a sudden strain on his head; he was being pulled down, forward, by his hair; he felt something soft crush against his cheek. The action stunned him.
When Hiei finished kissing him, he let go, and hopped up on the bench. "Does that answer you?" he asked. Kurama could only stare, completely dumbfounded. "Perhaps you should return home. I've no idea how much time has passed, and you said you would help the child. I'll find you tomorrow."
Hiei disappeared, leaving only Kurama in the park. The Fox just stood there for a minute, frozen, then realized he indeed had a body, and this was no dream—for surely, he thought, this could only occur for him in a dream. Dreams … He shook his head. There were those occasion when it was nearly impossible to decipher dream from reality. This was one of them.
