A/N: I considered this an auspicious day to post this chapter, as it is the final one. Once you reach the end this time, it's finished, and there'll be no more. I thank everyone for reading and reviewing, and I hope that this concluding chapter is satisfactory.
"Remembering is the crime to which I cannot plead innocent." Genji, in Murasaki Shikibu's The Tale of Genji.
Was It Out of Pity?
Chapter XXVIII
December 31, 2007
Hiei suppressed a grimace at the harsh cacophony of Tomonari's coughing. The mind reader had passed the last few days in bed, almost too weak to sit up. He tended to the sick demon—even if Tomonari read something off of him, the former was in no position to make unwanted commentary. Besides, Hiei's motives were more vicarious than anything else.
Kurama had fallen ill mid-winter. Hiei saw it coming; it announced itself in the Fox's fatigued countenance and trembling frame, before taking him to bed. Several days passed where he was even unconscious. Hiei lingered nearby always, and would have come to Kurama's bedside, had it not been constantly occupied by other friends and family. Consequently, he'd had to content himself with holding vigil on nearby telephone poles and rooftops.
"Drink it," Hiei said, both as instruction and emphatic impatience, as he passed a vial of medicine to Tomonari, who betrayed a nauseated look.
Stimulated perhaps by an annoyed pair of red eyes, Tomonari obeyed. After several expressions of varied disgust played across his face, he inquired in a raspy voice: "How does the humans' winter affect Michiko?"
There was a subtle tone of gratitude in the mind reader's tone that Hiei tried to ignore. "The season's ending in that area. If she did get sick, it wasn't so bad that I noticed. Yukina takes care of her."
"Yukina is an ice maiden," remarked his patient. Narrowing his eyes—he had never voiced any information about her—, he nodded. "And—your sister."
He decided to let his face express his vexation, and noted to mix a sedative into Tomonari's next dosage.
When he left the mind reader's sick chamber he kept the door open, thinking that exposure to the springtime air and sun might be curative. He took a breath, and detected the perfume of lilac and iris.
The plants conjured up nostalgia.
There was a crash. "Aw sh—crap," Yusuke caught himself. Just because he couldn't see the customers didn't mean that they couldn't hear him. Groaning in pain, he whined, "Keiko, the door's broken…"
"Idiot."
"Huh?" Craning his neck, he jumped to his feet when he saw who stood in the doorway.
"Perhaps if you swept the debris off your step more frequently, you'd be less inclined to slip and fall, Detective." Hiei scrutinized the broken hinge on the door. "You'll be less likely to be robbed if you repair that, too," he added boredly.
"Thanks for pointing that out, three-eyes." And then he glanced over his shoulder, at the person currently taking orders behind the counter. No one had come in while gravity made him a fool, and so Kurama had been free to observe the entire exchange. "Um…" He looked back at the injured door. "There's a hardware store down the street; I could probably be there and back in fifteen minutes."
Kurama, who this entire time had been staring absently at Hiei, suddenly regained lucidity, and shifted his gaze to Yusuke. "What?"
"Time me," Yusuke said as he flung off his apron and set out the door—rapidly executing a turn-about when it occurred to him that his wallet wasn't on him. "Remind me to pay this back later," he said to Kurama as he took money out of the cash register. The Fox watched the transaction with a blank look on his face.
After Yusuke had gone for real, he busied himself with writing up the dinner menu. This meant, whether he intended it or not, turning his back on Hiei.
The Koorime was unaffected. He approached the counter and took a seat opposite Kurama. "You moved," he said.
"Are you going to order something?"
Hiei threw some money in front of the redhead. "Coffee."
Kurama stepped into the kitchen to relay this, but tensed as he became aware of three guilty-looking pairs of eyes avoiding contact with his. Frowning, he poured the cup himself, and sternly informed the eyes' owners that Hiei and he were not a spectacle.
"Who's back there?" Hiei asked, when Kurama returned to his line of vision, though he knew already.
"Keiko and Kuwabara and Botan," Kurama answered, though he knew that Hiei knew already.
The smaller demon snorted. "The dumbass always did run his mouth like a woman."
"HEY!" The door to the kitchen flew open as the offended carrot top lurched out. Kurama watched wide-eyed and Hiei languidly while their female companions leaned out and (with some difficulty) pulled him back out of sight. (Both shot Hiei Looks conveying their own displeasure with his comment, as they did so. He was unmoved.)
"Kuwabara, quit upsetting my customers!" Yusuke was back, new hinges in hand and an annoyed look on his face.
Kurama sighed, as Yusuke's bellowing was no better. "It's probably half-cold now," he lamented to Hiei, as he remembered and set down the coffee. The Jaganshi sipped it silently, while Kurama busied himself with apologizing to the shop's present patrons for both the initial and consequential upsets. Hiei wondered if the intentions that his companion had given him before for working here had shown any fruition yet. He admitted that Yusuke did actually display a little more maturity in the human workplace—although that may have been more pathetic than an accomplishment, considering how it was a likely result of the efforts of Keiko and Kurama daily, and of the shop's silent partner, Shizuru, in the background. All that aside, Hiei thought that the shopkeeper's hat looked ridiculous on Kurama's head, and deliberated telling him so.
This idea was interrupted when he found the seat beside his suddenly occupied by Yusuke. "I hear you've been spending time nursing a sick demon in Mukuro's fortress." Hiei didn't dignify this with a response. "I've seen his little sisters up at Grandma's a few times; is he better?" A grunt. Yusuke stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankles. "I caught something myself not long ago. I kinda felt bad afterward because then Keiko and Fox-boy both got it"—he noticed the muscles of Hiei's arm nearest him tense up a little—"and they were out longer than I was." Hiei muttered something under his breath. "What was that?"
"Why didn't you take him to a hospital?"
"Oh, Keiko pulled through just fine, thanks for asking."
"Are you all morons?" Hiei snapped. ("That's what you tell us," replied Yusuke.) "Why did you stand by and let him lie there when he lost consciousness?"
"So that was you living on the roof across the alley," declared Yusuke with a smirk. Hiei bristled. "If he had actually lost consciousness, of course I would have called an ambulance. He was feeling really shitty, so he took some plant thing to help him sleep it off." Grinning at the look on Hiei's face, he said, "Don't worry so much."
Hiei wasn't paying attention. He was too busy feeling pissed with himself for having allowed other to take notice of his watch. "I'm through here," he grumbled, downing the remnants of his coffee and deserting Yusuke before the latter had time to comment.
(He glanced at Kurama on his way out; but it appeared that the dinner rush had just begun, and the Fox didn't look up from his work.)
The last hours before closing passed so busily that no one working was able to conduct a true conversation. Kurama was readying to leave when Yusuke caught up to him. "So you and Hiei talked?"
"Some." The redhead discarded his work hat and combed a few fingers through his hair. Yusuke tried not to stare, and asked, "Did he know you moved?"
"Apparently." Had he not left the new address where Hiei might find it? Not that he really thought that Hiei had ever needed much help in locating him. "Yusuke?"
"Yeah?"
"You need to pay back the register," he said before shutting the door behind him.
As he'd expected, he hadn't gone a block before an unseen but very familiar presence joined him.
Kurama must have known he was being shadowed. But Hiei had trailed him for a near half hour, and he had yet to acknowledge the Koorime's presence.
Thirty minutes, and the span spent waiting on Kurama, had given Hiei plenty of time to brood himself into a stormy state of mind. His thoughts had unfurled backward from his stand over his companion's sickbed. He found himself stuck on the occasion of the open window. He'd been in Kurama's room, by Kurama's bed, the fucking Fox had looked right at him—and he'd been snubbed…
Was this—yes, he recognized the address. Kurama was going to go inside and close the door on him, like he wasn't even out here.
However, Hiei had progressed from hurt to pissed, and he decided it was time to share his feelings with his friend.
There was the sound of something cutting the air. Kurama promptly whirled around. Sparks flew out orange and yellow in the dusk as rosewhip and katana collided. The sword ricocheted and lodged itself into the trunk of the tree by the street, about five feet below where Hiei stood on a branch. It was still intact; just as Hiei had aimed to the side of Kurama, the Kitsune hadn't retaliated with full force. "Well," said the latter calmly, "you have my attention, Hiei."
The demon of that name jumped down and retrieved the katana from its arborous sheath. Giving the one who put it there a hard look, Hiei replied with a curt "Finally."
They stared at each other for several minutes, until the inquiry from a passing a car as to if everything was okay diverted their match. Kurama sent it off with assurances, and then refocused on the Jaganshi. "Unless you strongly desire someone looking out the window and calling the police on your suspicious figure, I suggest that you either leave or come inside with me."
Despite himself, Hiei was a little surprised with the invitation, but quickly (though nonchalantly) accepted it. "If you really need a perch in the future," Kurama said, walking to the back, "I would think that this would be more convenient." He opened the backdoor, and stepped aside so that Hiei might see. This "more convenient" "perch" was a tall, broad tree, with branches that cast serpentine patterns of shadow over the house and yard. The Koorime stared at it, then took a closer look, then smirked and said:
"Toguro."
Kurama raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"
"Aren't you supposed to take special notice where plants are concerned? Look at the juncture of the branches."
He did, and after a moment saw the cause for Hiei's strange remark: a small, spindly conifer, growing up where the deciduous branches grew out. "Fancy that," he murmured, hitting the light switch. The kitchen immediately brightened.
"Will this home last longer?" Hiei inquired mildly.
"If things go as planned," answered Kurama in a similar tone. "From here it isn't an extraordinary distance to a few universities."
"More school?"
"I have the means; I may as well experiment with it. My parents are happy with the possibility." Not that he minded examining options outside the office building and the ramen house either.
The Koorime looked thoughtful, and then commented, "At least if it's a short distance you car won't suffer."
"Hah," replied Kurama dryly. "I forgot to ask earlier: Did you receive the things I sent?"
Hiei nodded. "The things, and the things within the things."
"Pardon?" Hiei removed his newer neck adornment and tossed it to Kurama. The Kitsune caught it, and looked over it closely. A small pouch of red silk strung on a red string. He opened it and saw the contents inside: a handful of Sakura flowers that he had pressed in the pages of Poe before sending it on to Hiei. "I—I had wanted for us to go see them," he murmured. "Last Spring…"
"Then why didn't we?" Kurama just shook his head and placed the pouch in Hiei's hand. Hiei looked at it, and then at his friend. "It's Spring now, isn't it?"
"It is."
The Jaganshi replaced the silken red token around his neck. "Then why don't we go see them this time?"
Evidently Kurama was taken aback by this question. "There's a … There's a custom pertaining to—"
"I know," was the flat interruption.
Silence. Kurama coughed, and moved to the refrigerator. "Would you like anything to drink?" Hiei declined. Instead, he watched warily while the Fox poured himself a drink colored red. Soon his observation was noticed. A perplexed Kurama inquired "What?" before seeing just where his suspicious gaze rested. He then received a peeved look. "It's juice," said his friend tartly, offering him the accused drink to taste. He did—and instantly pulled a face.
"It's bitter."
"It's healthful," Kurama argued, sipping it. Hiei meanwhile scraped his tongue against his teeth, trying to eliminate the aftertaste. Almost as an afterthought, the redhead commented mildly: "You've acquired an interesting manner of greeting since I saw you last."
Scowling, Hiei retorted with: "Is yours doing nothing?"
Kurama shrugged. "I didn't know you wanted me to call you out; it always annoyed you before. You should have said something." Hiei's scowl deepened. "I've been on my feet all day. Would you sit down with me?" Without waiting on his answer Kurama retired to the couch. He joined him, though he sat sullenly at the opposite arm. Some television program was on, but he wasn't paying much attention.
To him the shows bled into each other. Consequently, he had no idea how much time had passed before Kurama startled him to attention by saying, a touch of wistfulness to his voice, "I've missed you." He actually jumped, and to his frustration felt his face grow hot. "Does that embarrass you, Hiei?"
"Wh—Why should I give a damn if you've missed me or not?" he snapped. "Since you sent me awa—."
He stopped; Kurama's end of the couch was flanked by a table with a lamp on it. "What the…?" His friend gave him a curious look as he edged closer and stared. Something about the way the light played off the Kitsune's hair. Hiei widened his eyes when he realized what he was seeing. "What the hell?"
"It's silver," said Kurama flatly, referring to the glimmering strands spread among the red.
Hiei gawked at it. "When did this happen?" he managed, reaching forward.
Pulling away from his hand, the Fox answered nonchalantly: "Gradually. Perhaps over this last year. I don't know what caused it." Hiei suspected, and felt sick a little. Something must have given him away. "Don't be so self-absorbed," Kurama told him with a slight smirk. "Besides, it's nowhere near the amount of silver I used to have. I hadn't even noticed it until recently."
Suddenly it stood out to painfully that Hiei had to work not to continue staring. "… I've missed you, too," he finally confessed. Kurama received this mutely. "Anyone I've been close to recently, I've either drawn blood from or put to sleep."
His friend laughed. He hadn't realized how much he had missed that sound. "But have you forgotten Yukina?"
His eyebrow twitched. "No." He shifted seating; his lips contorted thoughtfully. He gave Kurama a solemn look. "I'm—." His throat felt funny; he coughed. "I'm going to tell her."
There was a sputtering noise as the Fox choked a little on his juice. "What?"
"I'm going to tell her," Hiei repeated. "Your friend's adamancy annoys even me at times; I understand your position a little more now." Kurama stared at him thoughtfully. "I don't know when I'll do it," he continued, "yes, but I will."
The stare persisted, then gave way to a little smile. "Annoyances can sometimes grant us perspective." Hiei didn't comment. "Don't worry over her reaction; I'm sure that she'll be too ecstatic to dwell much on your past." He snorted. "Hiei." Kurama moved closer and touched his shoulder. "She knows already that you're not immaculate. Knowing that she and you have a closer relationship than she presently thinks probably won't alter it for the worse."
Kurama's gaze was too intense. Hiei averted his eyes. "Thanks for your assurances," he murmured uncomfortably. Desiring to change the subject, he observed, "Your defense was swift out there. I was a little surprised."
"Why would you be? I spar with Kuwabara, and sometimes even Yusuke, when I have time. Although," he added casually, "it doesn't quite compare with when we would spar, even if that hasn't been for a while."
Hiei flexed his toes, and watched the material of his boots shift with the movement. "I won't be blamed for you becoming a sedentary human," he replied. "When you want someone to remind you that you're a demon…"
"I've not forgotten—But whenever you want evidence…"
"Fine." He glanced outside. Dark already, and clouds covered up the moon. "Another time, I suppose." He rose, made for the backdoor—.
"You're not going out there."
He turned and raised an eyebrow at Kurama. "Excuse me?"
If he said anything after, it was lost in the explosion of thunder that followed. It, and the accompanying lightshow, was enough to make even him flinch a little. "You evidently weren't paying attention when I had the weather forecast on earlier," said Kurama stoically. Hiei case him a disgruntled look. He shrugged defensively. "Neither of us can control the weather, but this isn't the worst place to pass a storm." The Koorime wore the same expression, but didn't argue, and reclaimed his place on the couch. "Now what would you like for dinner, Hiei, unless you would like to cook?"
A snort. "I'm not cooking you anything. You're going to make it up to me for months of the cold shoulder and almost breaking my blade."
Kurama smirked. "I'll just disregard the fact that you were throwing it at me; perhaps impaling me once wasn't enough?"
"Hn. You impaled yourself, as far as I'm concerned."
Suppressing a laugh, Kurama walked around the room and cracked open several windows. The breeze came in clean and sweet. It was Spring, the season of rebirth and opportunity anew.
"Hiei, I know a possible sparring location; you recall the secluded part of the park, by the Sakura tree…?"
--
End.
I don't know if everyone will enjoy this ending. In fact, I'm fairly sure that not everyone will. But this is the sort of ending I've planned since early in this story's devising, and I hope that I executed it well. Those who were around when I first posted this story's opening chapter, or even quite recently, can see the rework, sometimes in extremity, I've done to most of the story. The same theme remains, but after nearly three years at work on this I'd like to think that my characterization has improved, and so lets us hope that this final version is all in all more fluid and IC. (Kurama especially can be a bitch to characterize at times. I blame it on his frequent ambiguity, but then that's one of the traits that make me like him so much.)
And now, this ending. I didn't want one of those Everything's resolved and it's all going to be OK! type of conclusions. Don't be mistaken; those are fine too, and I do enjoy them. However, I also appreciate those sort of open endings where there is a degree of uncertainty. Mainly this concerns their present relationship: romantic again? platonic? It is interesting to entertain different notions. Regardless of the precise nature, I do think that there would still be a very intimate element, much like in the show itself.
So this conclusion may in a respect be a non-conclusion. And yet, perhaps the ambiguity is appropriate, considering the nature of our main characters, no?
12:39 pm Central Standard Time
New Year's Eve, 2007
