Ficlet #24: Mercy
Prompt #13: Euthanasia

It was cold, but not cold enough to justify the way Kurama had his arms wrapped around his torso, hugging himself tightly. Hiei noticed his action, but declined to comment--he probably needed the hug.

Kurama was in a mood that Hiei couldn't interpret, something that for all its rareness he disliked in the extreme. It was an easy guess that Kurama was troubled, and Hiei didn't like that either--the Youko would not have so much as blinked at what they'd just done. Kurama, however, was in some kind of turmoil Hiei could neither understand nor cure.

Hiei didn't try to fill up the quiet between them with words; if Kurama wanted to talk, he would do so without prompting, and if he wanted silence, Hiei was glad to give it to him. There was nothing really to be said about what they had just done, anyway. And it had been Kurama who had stepped forward to do it.

Hiei supposed that if there had been an error on his part, it had been that. He should have known what Kurama was getting ready to do, and been quicker at it. After all, it wasn't any concern of Hiei's if some irritating ex-pupil of Genkai's was dead. If anything, he still held a bit of a grudge towards the arrogant human over the whole lost-soul incident--Hiei was unable, even now, to admit said incident had been entirely his own fault. Maybe that was the reason he had been slow to step forward: if he was the one to do it, there would be anger in the stroke of his blade. And anger had no place in this.

According to Kurama, Kaitou had always had a knack for biting off more than he could chew; he became focused on the end result and forgot he didn't have the skill required to get there, which was the definition of arrogance if Hiei had ever heard it. Just because the barrier between human and demon worlds was down didn't make it a good idea to go exploring, on the wrong side, by yourself. By the time they'd caught up with him--Hiei acting in his capacity as a border guard, and Kurama following from personal interest--it had been far too late to do anything but end the pain.

With another glance at Kurama, Hiei decided that yes, he should have done it himself. And would have, if he had realized Kurama was going to do it so quickly. He shouldn't have let his own moral quibble--that he was angry, and so it would technically be murder instead of mercy--delay him so much that Kurama took the burden on himself. Because it was such a heaver burden on Kurama than it ever would have been to Hiei; to Hiei, it was a routine action, taking pity on someone who hadn't really earned all the pain he was in (even if he had been stupid). But to Kurama, it was a human, a classmate, not a friend but nevertheless someone he knew well. To Kurama, it was personal.

And Hiei should not be angry with him now, for suffering, for it being such a burden in the first place. But he was.

So they walked in silence, Hiei holding his tongue from anger and trying to convince himself it was concern or respect. Damned fox. Why does he get himself into these situations? He knows I would have done it.

"Hiei."

Sometimes Hiei wondered if Kurama had a little bit of the telepath in him as well; his timing was frequently uncanny, and Hiei fully expected a reprimand for his line of thought. So Kurama's next words, after Hiei had given him a look to indicate he was listening, were a shock. "If I ever need that, you will do it for me."

His tone was not a question; not even the faintest trace of inquiry to what he had said, just an observation. Hiei's reaction was violent, and adamant. "I will not!"

Kurama looked blindsided. On one level that was good, because it pulled him from his brooding, but nonetheless Hiei knew at once they were shaping up for a fight. "Why not?"

"You won't ever be in that position."

"You can't know that."

"You are a superior fighter, and a powerful demon. You won't be hurt like that."

"Hiei, I was hurt like that, remember? If I hadn't been, I wouldn't have this body. You've been near death a time or ten yourself, so don't pretend it doesn't happen. What's to say it won't be fatal one of these days?"

"It won't," Hiei growled, silently adding, Drop the subject, Kurama. Now.

If Kurama really could sense Hiei's line of thought, he didn't heed it. "You aren't being rational."

"Hn."

"If I should need--that service--I want you to be the one to it."

"Why, because you think it won't bother me afterwards?"

Kurama didn't answer. So--that is what he thinks. Hiei gritted his teeth and spoke casually. "Perhaps it won't. But I still refuse to make plans for an eventuality I don't believe will ever exist.

"If it's never going to happen, what's the harm in promising me?"

"It's a lie."

Kurama didn't respond to Hiei's flat declaration. There was silence for a moment. The night was growing colder, but Kurama was no longer hugging himself; Hiei could feel the anger pouring from him in waves. At least he's not thinking about what he did anymore; I suppose I should be grateful for small mercies.

"I know how much it would bother you," Kurama finally said. His voice was quiet, but still angry, and he did not look at Hiei as he spoke. "It's not that I think it won't; I know you place a higher estimation on my ability to keep myself alive than anyone I know. I'm not asking because I think it would be easy on you, I'm asking because I trust you."

Hiei matched his anger. "You're asking because you're always on the lookout for a way to die. As long as I've known you you've been borderline suicidal. You jump in the way of harm heading towards anyone you happen to be standing next to."

"That's because I generally stand next to people I love. You're not old enough to understand."

Hiei would have laughed had anyone else said that to him, but from Kurama it stung. "You propose that I'm too young to love?"

"Too young to know how terrible it feels to watch someone you love die for your sake. I'd rather do the dying myself."

"And inflict that feeling you say is so terrible on everyone else. How selfish."

"I'm not asking for your understanding. I'm asking for your promise."

"You know I don't take requests. Kill yourself if you want to."

"What if I can't?" Kurama had been avoiding Hiei's gaze, but now he looked at him piercingly. "What if my body becomes a prison to me, and I can't move, can't speak, can't think of anything but the pain? What if I'm ready to go but unable to, because my body is an animal's and can't accept that it's time to die? Will you help me move?"

"I can't make that decision--"

"Of course you can. I've seen you do it a dozen times. You're a fighter; you know when the body is too injured to be anything but a cage. You know how to help someone cross into death. So don't pretend you're refusing on any moral grounds."

"I can't," Hiei ground out.

"I've been with you when you--"

"I'm not saying I don't know how to do it. I just can't promise you I will. Not you."

"Are you saying I'm unworthy?"

"I won't do it for you."

Kurama's voice was clipped. "Nice to know where we stand." He began walking quicker, making use of his long legs so he would no longer have to stand next to Hiei, his arms wrapped tightly around himself again.

Hiei suppressed a growl of frustration. "Fox." He hated Kurama for making him call after him. "Fox, just because you're upset, don't use it as an excuse to be asinine. You're refusing to understand me."

"You're not being understandable," Kurama replied without turning back.

"If you would get off your high horse and listen for a minute--"

"So you can tell me more about how you'd refuse to help me if I needed it? I would do this for you, Hiei."

"More power to you," Hiei replied curtly. "You're stronger; are you happy? Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"I don't--"

"Don't tell me I don't know what I'm talking about. I may not have experienced it, but I've seen it. I've seen people mourn their fallen comrades for centuries and never once forget their own blame in their deaths. I've seen parents dying for children and children for parents and lovers for beloveds and I haven't understood. I've even seen people who know better, people like you who know when the body is too injured--or sick--" he added pointedly, "to ever get better--I've seen them deny that knowledge, go looking for obscure and dangerous cures, lie to their friends and partners, willingly sacrifice their own lives because they couldn't admit, couldn't accept, that the person they loved was ready to die. I believe everything you said about giving mercy, Kurama. But I will never, ever be able to give it to you."

In the ensuing silence between them, a light snow began to fall, as if to accentuate how cold it was and how far away from each other's body heat they stood. Kurama regarded Hiei with an expression Hiei could not read--he almost appeared hurt, but there was no edge of injury to it. Just the sorrow; and other things, unreadable. Hiei felt naked.

The Kurama dropped his eyes, and nodded once--a short ant-climax after all they'd just fought about, but it was all the acceptance Hiei needed. He moved forward, and Kurama waited for Hiei to catch up to him before falling in step. Without speaking, Hiei warmed the air around them slightly; also without speaking, Kurama dropped his arms from their defensive posture, and for just half a moment his hand touched Hiei's before they continued on, silently, through the gathering snow.

A/N: You know it's going to be a difficult story when the prompt is euthanasia; I spent a lot of time wondering how to write this. I suppose I could have side-stepped and interpreted this less literally, but the subject was on my mind because earlier this year, there was a virtual epidemic amongst my friends and loved ones of having to make the decision to let go of a pet who was suffering. Because it was thinking about that which caused me to write this story the way I did, I wanted to dedicate it to Murphy, Spunky, Solace, and Trixie, who are all sorely missed.