A/N: I think this chapter feels a little awkward, and I suppose that it should. All the same, the time flow in here is broader and more blurred than in most other chapters, as shall it be in the next chapter too. Though I myself am not one hundred percent sure, let us say that this chapter spans over some several weeks or the earlier portion of the Spring season, perhaps.

Was It Out of Pity?
Chapter XXVI
December 19, 2007

The day was balmy, and he had chosen a scenic route home from his day's activities. 'I've missed the Sakura again,' he thought morosely, staring at the forlorn blossoms scattered on the ground. Kurama stooped down an d collected a handful of the dying flowers. He had wanted to bring Hiei to see them before, but…

That tree again; that bench. Hiei perching over and staring down at him while he sought a temporary escape from all the confusion. He snorted: Hiei kissing him, leading to more confusion. What had the Koorime felt during the days between when Kurama had kissed him, and he brought him here to return that kiss (on the cheek, he recalled)? Hiei couldn't have realized what it would bring both of them into.

But Kurama was an old Fox, and knew better about the weight of such decisions.

"You look like you've lost weight," Hiei remarked.

"Hm?" Kurama had been lying down on the couch; now he twisted and looked over at the Jaganshi. "Thank you?" he replied softly, face pinking just a little.

Had he been so verbally frugal that a simple observation embarrassed the Fox? "You were … eating, before," Hiei said, and then frowned—it sounded stupid even as he said it.

His friend quirked an eyebrow. "I still eat."

"I mean I—thought you were getting fat," he admitted. What term had he used before, "tender"?

Silence. "I was," answered Kurama uncomfortably. "I've been out and about more lately."

More reason why that job had been unhealthy. He should have abandoned it a long time ago. "You look good," he said, shrugging. "Where have you been going out to?"

"Helping Yusuke and Keiko clean up shop. They're anticipating reopening next month." Hiei betrayed surprise. "Shizuru is helping them out." Smiling, he added, "Yusuke reasons that since he was desperate enough to get out of the office building, he wasn't too discriminating to bypass the devil and deal with her."

Hiei snorted. "Have you forgiven them?"

After a moment's contemplation, Kurama answered: "I have to, for my health if nothing else. I don't want anger to eat me up for centuries the way it did to Mukuro."

This last bit made the smaller demon start. "She told you about…?" He trailed off when he saw Kurama's smirk.

"She alluded to such," said the Fox, "but thank you for your confirmation, Hiei."

He frowned. "Funny."

Still smiling his companion said, "I try." The mirth in his tone dissipated Hiei's aggravation at being tricked, a little. "What do you want for dinner?"

"What is there?" he asked seriously. If there was one drawback to Kurama's defunct job, it was monetary—they were running low on money, and on food.

Kurama shrugged. "I … am thinking of working there, for a while."

"Where?"

"Yusuke doesn't have the best customer relations skills…"

He stared in disbelief. "The ramen shop?" Kurama nodded. "Why?"

"As I said, I think that Yusuke could use an example for business." Smiling wryly, he added, "If nothing else, we'll have food, right?"

No answer. Hiei was still in shock over this new idea. Refocusing, he gave the Fox a questioning look. "You're not … taking anything to boost your energy or something like that, are you?" Kurama had said something recently about feeling "strange."

The questioning look was returned. "No; why?"

"You're just—You've been very spirited lately." 'Manic.' At first it was just sex and his roaming. Both could be easily rationalized—the breaking of their abstinence, agitated by Hiei's most recent (solo) stay in the Makai, and the sudden acquisition of more time on his hands. This, though, was more unexpected, impulsive … 'Manic.'

"Are you complaining?"

"No," he said hastily. He was just worried about if Kurama crashed.

"You're tense," the redhead commented, standing up. "Come walk with me."

"I don't care if you think Koenma was stupid for asking," he declared, hair rustling in the early evening, slightly damp spring breeze. "I'm glad he got that opportunity."

This most recent stay in Makai had been to observe Spirit World's first involvement in anything pertaining to the Sadist's uprising since brining in its former tantei. Understandably, Koenma had been reluctant to intervene after what had happened to Kurama, though just recently the Fox had commented that Sado's confronting the bulk of the Makai territories had been a legitimate concern for the Spirit World as well. (Cold logic, or was this for his health as well?) Koenma was trying his best to make retribution for what had happened, although Hiei was skeptical of some of his means…

"He was an idiot for not doing anything real with it. You should have seen Botan's face after he made his request."

His friend gave him an inquisitive look. "But you can empathize, can't you?"

He shrugged. True, he had told Botan that… "She can't understand; she's never been in that scenario." As an afterthought, he threw Kurama a meaningful look, and added: "She can't judge."

To his surprise, Kurama nodded after a moment. "True, Hiei. One can't presume to know it all until they've experienced it themselves. Mother pointed that out to me actually, though I do still disagree with what she, and others, did."

He said it with such offhandedness that Hiei couldn't tell if it was meant as a stab or not. So he shrugged it off. "All the same, his determination to punish himself is ardent almost to the brink of stupidity," he muttered. A soft sound, like a subtle laugh, came from his friend. Giving Kurama a curious look, he realized the cause of the former's amusement and narrowed his eyes. "Let me clarify," he growled. "We are talking about Tomonari."

Not quite suppressing a smirk, Kurama nodded, and said "Certainly," though Hiei found the sincerity of his tone lacking. "Botan's never been in that scenario," he reinforced, "and neither have you."

For a moment Kurama said nothing. And then: "Correct, Hiei. That requires a cut-throat sort of compassion that I've never applied before, so I suppose I haven't."

Complete sincerity this time. "… Hn," he managed, finding nothing to add. "Koenma's putting too much effort into compensating Its security, anyway."

"Oh? As you said, Tomonari's 'not doing anything real with it.' "

"But you—"

"Have been compensated," Kurama interrupted. "Or will be, soon. I'm satisfied with it."

Koenma was having one of Kurama's deepest wishes put to print: eradicating any remaining hold the Reikai offices wielded over the ex-criminal. Kurama would never be involved in another paranormal affair against his will ever again; the Fox could remain in his human niche, unsolicited, uninterrupted. Free. Hiei's old desires to see Kurama restored to their native world in his "pure" form didn't seem important anymore. "I'm glad," Hiei said honestly.

A low rumbling noise could be heard. "And hungry?" asked the redhead with a little smile. "If the shop reopens soon enough, perhaps we could go on a grocery shopping spree."

"You're serious about working there." Kurama nodded. "It seems beneath you," he confessed.

His concern earned an amused smile. "You used to consider my humanity beneath me as well. But this could be a good change." Sobering suddenly, he looked Hiei full in the face and said "I know that much of what I do perplexes you, but please trust that I do put thought into my actions, Hiei."

Blinking in surprise, Hiei managed to reply: "I do. That was one of the reasons I partnered with you to begin with." Lowering his voice, he added, "Even the negative things, you think about, don't you?"

"That quality is in the eye of the beholder. Cooking noodles—"

"Working for the detective." Essentially, a self-demotion.

"—isn't the worst thing in the world. Now, something like the incident in the bar…"

That was something that had been absent from their refrigerator lately, Hiei had noticed. He didn't miss it. "You were mixed up over things," he dismissed. "Everyone has low points." And Kurama didn't deserve any more. "And—You were alone. I was being too self-absorbed to actually be with you. It won't happen again."

Looking at him thoughtfully, the Fox nodded. "I don't think it will either, Hiei." He sat down on a bench, pulling a hand from his pocket. "I have some money. Let me treat you to something." Hiei's stomach growled again, this time louder. Listening, Kurama amended himself. "Let me treat you to something cheap."

Kurama was undressing. From his spot sprawled on the bed Hiei had a fantastic angle for observation. That being "out and about" really had done him some good. Hiei wondered if he should feel guilty that he hadn't noticed sooner, and now that he had, couldn't stop noticing. Although, Kurama and his voracity could make noticing all that one in their weariness had the energy to do.

The Fox turned and Hiei sat up, anticipating what was to come. And then, to his surprise:

"Go to sleep, Hiei. You look like you need it."

That was true: He certainly had been missing out on sleep, thanks primarily to the surge in Kurama's appetites. His duties in Alaric had seemed almost like a vacation, simply his rest went undisturbed at night.

Perhaps he hadn't disguised his reaction well. Kurama yawned, and gave him a sheepish smile. "I'm a little out of shape. My time in the shop has demanded more energy than I've become accustomed to using."

The Jaganshi snorted. "Right. So you're just tired."

A flick of the switch. "And selfish," murmured Kurama in the dark, lying down beside him. "You're irresistible, Hiei, but I'm just much too burnt out right now…" Another yawn. "I'm too old to be so self-centered, anyhow. In the future, I won't allow your welfare to escape my consideration again."

"My welfare?" He saw the form of Kurama's head move in an affirming gesture. Rolling his eyes, he said, "Don't forget that I come from the ice. I don't think that that is the staple to my welfare that it is to yours."

Rhythmic, warm breath was his only answer. Kurama wasn't kidding abut being tired. He spent a few minutes with head propped up on one arm, watching the dark silhouette of the chest rise and fall, listening to the steady inhalations and exhalations.

It proved contagious. He soon rolled over and fell asleep.

"Ow!" Yusuke stared down at the blood gushing from his thumb. "Mother fu—"

"You know, I was thinking that after we open, we lock him in the kitchen."

"Ha. Ha." The brunette rolled his eyes at Shizuru's commentary. "Should lock her upstairs."

"What is up here?" Kurama asked, balancing a box between his chest and the wall.

"Technically, living space." Yusuke licked the blood off the wounded digit. "But there's really only room enough for one person, so right now it's storage. Keiko and I will have to knock a wall down or something before we can live up there together."

Kurama lifted an eyebrow. "Mr. and Mrs. Yukimura must be thrilled."

"Hah. We're already living together, so." He shrugged. "Besides, I guess we have to thank you and Hiei, sort of." The Fox's forehead creased in bewilderment. "You confused Keiko's dad, I think. He practically hasn't hounded us at all since you argued with him." Grinning suddenly, he said, "We should have a double commitment ceremony or something; nobody could say anything then."

"Spite really isn't a romantic motive," Kurama replied bemusedly. "If you really intend on marrying someday, have an engagement ceremony instead." Out of the corner of his eye he saw Keiko perk at the idea. "And I am already committed to Hiei. I don't need to formalize that feeling. People will say things regardless, if the complexities extend their grasp of understanding. Your indignation is admirable," he said as Yusuke made to protest, "but I am unconcerned with external opinions."

Yusuke shrugged, giving up. "Point taken, Mr. Nonconformist."

Bent over his burden, Kurama managed to look up and afford the other man a minute smile.

Hiei made a face at the sound of rake against concrete. Spring rains had become a frequency, bringing down the past fall's dead leaves and plastering them anywhere they would stick. The Koorime had always hated slipping on them.

But this act of removing them was fairly unpleasant as well. An hour and a half had passed, and he was only now clearing out the last of the debris on the terrace. Certainly other, quicker means existed, but Kurama deemed them "too conspicuous" and wouldn't permit their use. In their apartment, Hiei sometimes—sometimes—forgot that they were living amidst a throng of humans. How Kurama had managed to live this way this long was something next to marvelous.

Speaking of… Ah, he was in the shower. A place that Hiei would no doubt wind up soon: he was covered in dingy leftover rainwater and leaf shreds. Not the attire that he supposed Kurama would like worn to dinner at the Hatanaka house.

Although, the Fox had seemed almost apologetic about their plans earlier. "It's good of you to put up with all these ningen affairs for my sake, Hiei," he had said with a small, rueful smile. "I promise that you'll be free to be a demon again soon."

That promise perplexed him. His stay here was self-imposed, unlike the previous exile Spirit World had sentenced him to. Nor was his personal state altered like Kurama's was. He was simply a demon among the human and humanized. Did Kurama think differently?

He looked at the now cleared off terrace. Perhaps he could persuade Kurama to "be a demon again" and grow something on it, despite the redhead rejecting the idea when he'd suggested it earlier that week. Humanized or not, Hiei found he no longer really cared, just let his friend maintain what had survived the shift…

Having meant to go into the bathroom to wash up, a noise on the other side of the door caused Hiei to pause. Listening with brows knotted for a few moments, he finally (reluctantly) backed away, and decided that his imperative clean-up could be done in the kitchen sink.

Later, if it seemed appropriate, he would ask why Kurama had been crying in the shower.

He regretted it.

"Please don't be concerned for me," Kurama had said. "I admit that I've been struggling with some things lately, but I'll be fine. And so will you." He stood up and took a step toward Hiei. The Koorime was way of the look in his eyes. "You must have been in such an awkward position and unsure of what to do," he continued, "and I'm the one responsible. I apologize for that."

Something that had been languid in the depths of Hiei's stomach stirred and made itself known. "Kurama—?"

"I have so much to thank you for," the Kitsune interrupted. "Even if some of your intentions weren't well-executed. You looked after me and took care of me, and loved me, in your own way—even if … Even if you do not reciprocate my love." Hiei could see his mouth tighten ever so slightly, though he could not see the smaller demon's innards go through a similar motion. He shook it off. "I know that you had to make sacrifices, and I don't think I can ever express my gratitude enough for that." His lips contorted into one of the fakest smiles that Hiei had ever seen. "I'll only be able to try."

The something flared up and made Hiei feel ill. "I don't need any retribution," he said uneasily. "I did it because I wanted to."

"And I want to do this."

"You don't have to."

"I need to. You need to."

"It is not your place to decide what I…!" His protest died as he realized its hypocrisy. "Don't harm yourself to fulfill your sense of righteousness, Kurama."

Despite the resolution of his lover's pose, the emerald gaze faltered for a moment. "Quite the contrary, Hiei," the redhead murmured, conjuring a less phony semi-smile. "We can only rise from here. And to do that…"

Both their faces clouded. Kurama cleared his throat and stepped closer to Hiei. Putting on the strained ghost smile again, he said: "I love you, Hiei. And I will always love you. But you don't—can't—return it."

"I—"

"Despite that," the Fox continued, louder, "you did your best as a lover, and you deserve that have that returned." His features looked pinched.

"Kurama—"

"So as your lover, allow me to try. Because I love you—"

"Kurama—"

"Shut up." He snatched Hiei into a rough embrace and the Koorime did shut up, mainly because as Kurama kissed his forehead he felt something so overwhelming that it left him almost paralyzed.

Maybe he could attribute that for his non-reaction when Kurama pulled away and in a sterile voice informed him: "We're not lovers anymore."

A loud, passionate knock on the door woke Shiori and Kazuya Hatanaka from their sleep. "Who…?" he muttered, fumbling in the dark and noting the time. Another knock. "What are you doing?" Shiori had stepped into the hallway.

"It could be important," she replied. Their last late night visitor had been Hiei, announcing the renewal of their eldest son's crisis.

"You're not going down alone," he insisted, grabbing his robe—starting when he heard the open and shut of the front door. "You're not going down."

She ignored the last demand, but let him lead the way downstairs. And then she almost tripped over him after he froze on the last step. Looking over his shoulder, she quickly saw why. "Shuichi!"

Her redheaded son stood in the entry, holding a backpack slung over one shoulder and looking quite dead to the world. He must have grown impatient and let himself in. (Did he still have a key?) "Shuichi, what are you doing here?" Suddenly his appearance hit her. "Are you okay? Where's Hiei?"

For a few moments all he did was stare at her almost mindlessly. "Hiei's home," he answered quietly. And then, in a slightly louder, hoarser voice, he said:

"I need a place to crash."