A/N: I do seem to get these little bursts where everything I've been working on gets finished at the same time. Enjoy it while it lasts, folks. :)
Chapter Eight: Scent
Two Days Later
There were two men in the room, and both were silent. The larger, muscular one was hunched over in his chair, fingers knotted together and a brooding expression on his face. The one who had become skeletal in the past months lay silently in bed, trying to be patient, not looking at the carrot top and allowing him time to collect his thoughts.
Finally, Kuwabara spoke. "Kurama, I--" He leaned forward, finally willing to meet Kurama's eyes. "I'm so sorry I--"
"It's alright, Kuwabara," Kurama said, gently and firmly. "I would not have wanted you to abandon your wife and your responsibilities to go on a wild goose chase."
"But we're a team," Kuwabara said raggedly. "Or at least we were. And I should have come to find you!"
"No, you did exactly what you should have done." Kurama hated that his voice was raspy, and tired, because he needed all his powers of persuasion to soothe his friend's guilt away. "You can't always abandon everything when an old friend calls. I did that at the Makai Tournament and it was nearly disastrous. Please, Kuwabara, please don't feel guilty. You did exactly what I would have wanted and expected you to do."
"But... I..."
"Watched over my mother," Kurama finished quietly. "And you can never know how much that means to me."
There was a longer space of silence; then Kuwabara finally nodded. Kurama knew his dutiful friend's feelings of guilt weren't fully absolved, but it was a good start. He would trust Yukina to do the rest.
They spoke a few moments more, of common acquaintances and trivial news. Kurama was comforted by his old friend's presence, but Kuwabara's voice was too hushed, his words too careful, and it wearied the fox to be so cosseted. He told Kuwabara he was tired and Kuwabara immediately and courteously left.
Kurama took a minute to mentally prepare himself before attempting to get out of bed and over to the bathroom. He struggled to his feet and swayed back and forth for a minute, holding onto the headboard until he could gain his balance. Shakily, he took two steps forward.
He would have fallen on the third, but just before he lost his balance the warmth of another body materialized and Hiei steadied him. Kurama gave a small sigh. He couldn't, and wouldn't, try to make Hiei understand that he would rather fall than constantly accept another's aide, know he was constantly watched. Between their argument and the safety restrictions Hiei had curtly imposed on him--near constant surveillance with the Jagan, badgering him with telepathy on those occasions when his third eye wasn't watching, and the silent physical aide whenever Kurama was about to fall--Kurama was experiencing small fantasies about throwing Hiei through a window. Without opening it first.
But they were small fantasies only, because Kurama was so grateful for his anger, and grateful to Hiei for culling and encouraging it. With everyone else so extremely sympathetic and careful of him it would have been impossible for Kurama to express or even feel anything approaching anger or rage without a target. Hiei was willing to be that target. And beneath the rage, Kurama loved him deeply for it.
Hiei helped him to the bathroom without comment. The two of them weren't speaking much these days. Hiei had returned before nightfall on the day Kurama had first woken up, spattered with blood and looking smug. Even under intense interrogation from Yusuke the most he would say was that Karasu had no living descendants. Whether or not that had been true before he acquired the bloodstains no one could get out of him. Since then he had been even more reserved than usual, only speaking to Kurama to provoke a fight.
Kurama would have gone crazy shortly after waking up if Yusuke hadn't been there. If Yusuke was feeling guilty or angry, he was doing a great job of hiding it. And he was talking to Kurama like a capable adult, not a child or a senile man on his deathbed. He had not asked any questions since getting permission to coddle Kurama, not even the courteous are you comfortables or is there anything I can get for yous that his other friends and family plagued him with. Yet Yusuke was just as good at Hiei at providing help without Kurama having to ask for it, and he did so casually, without interrupting the flow of conversation, almost like an itch he was scratching--so far below the level of being remarkable that he barely thought of it.
Though Hiei was irritating the hell out of him, Yusuke was not, because it was in Yusuke's nature to help people and so Kurama could almost convince himself that no special care was being taken for him. Hiei could never have pulled off the same thing, so he courted Kurama's anger, silently also helping as he did so.
(Did you fall in?)
Kurama ground his teeth together. Hiei was fond of this question. He seemed to find Kurama's newfound skin-and-bones look amusing, and never failed if Kurama was in the bathroom for longer than a minute to inquire, with mock courtesy, if he had fallen into the toilet. (I'm going to take a bath,) Kurama replied, even his mental tone sounding irritated.
(You know the rules.)
(So do you.) The rules were that as long as Hiei had no reason to believe Kurama was in distress, he would keep his Jagan shut while Kurama attended to personal needs. Yusuke and Shiori had both offered help, and Kurama knew Hiei would have helped also, but he refused to have someone keep an eye on him while he bathed, whether that eye was natural or implanted. It meant that his baths took forever and left him exhausted, but it was where he drew the line.
(Kurama?)
(I'm here. I haven't even gotten the water on yet.) Getting into the bathtub was difficult. Kurama wished for some of those side rails you saw in wheelchair accessible restrooms, to help lift and lower himself. Of course what he really wished was that he could stand long enough to take a shower, to get his hair decently clean and maybe be able to just scrub and scrub at his body like he wanted to. As it was, he was bathing at least twice a day.
(Kurama?)
(I'm here.) Kurama made a face as he realized how badly his arms shook as he turned the faucets on. He hated his weakness. During his incarceration it hadn't mattered, he hadn't been able to care how dirty he became or how little he was able to help himself, how humiliating anything and everything was. Those parts of himself had been locked away, and now they were free and smarting with every move he made.
But he refused to lock them back up. Even if he died now he would die as Kurama. He knew from hints Yusuke had inadvertently dropped that Hiei was worried Kurama would remain hidden and never come fully back to himself, always remain half a child. He could tell it worried Yusuke, too, though they didn't speak of it. Their worry was the best thing that could have happened, because it kept them on the lookout and made them able to help him stay together, stay sane.
(Kurama?)
(I'm here.) Of course, it was entirely possible that at least one of them would drive him into insanity instead of pull him out of it. Kurama was of the opinion that Hiei sat around with a wristwatch and spoke to him every minute, on the minute. And yet, despite his irritation, Kurama understood and agreed with Hiei's rules. Passing out and drowning in a bathtub would be a rather ignominious death for one who had escaped it so many times.
But Kurama did not fear death so much as madness. And madness seemed much more imminent.
(Kurama?)
(I'm here.) Kurama struggled to pull his thoughts away from dangerous territory, tried to get himself focused on the physical again. Worrying about his friends, thinking about their actions, was fine; thinking about himself was not. He needed to focus on what he was doing, just focus on bathing.
But bathing was where the seeds of madness lay. Kurama could not get Satsuki's scent off him.
(Kurama?)
(I'm here.) Part of him was aware, or at least suspected, why it was that Satsuki's scent clung so stubbornly. But he was unable to think about that without getting caught in a protective mental loop steering him far away, into pleasant recollections and meaningless thoughts... into madness. He tried to ignore the scent, but he couldn't. It only reminded him. So he found himself bathing compulsively, scrubbing at his skin, frustrated at his weakness and his obsessive actions and his inability to be clean.
(Kurama?)
(I'm here.) Kurama had not talked to anyone about Satsuki's scent, not even to Hiei and Yusuke. He wanted to know what they thought, if they had any ideas how to get rid of it, but he was too afraid--afraid that they would not know what he was talking about. Afraid it was all in his mind, and there was no scent. So no one spoke about it and Kurama kept his fears to himself, where they compounded and sent him spinning further and further into himself, stumbling and needing an anchor to keep him from completely falling--
(Kurama?)
(... I'm here.)
