Day 10: "Fireside"

For once in his stray-cat life, Hiei actually followed me into the kitchen to watch me make his dinner.

He'd come by my window under the light of a waning moon, red eyes gleaming in the dark. Let himself in without knocking, of course—probably because I was dead asleep. I woke to him looming over me like something out of nightmare and almost had a heart attack, but he clamped a hand that smelled like ozone over my mouth and hissed at me to shut the hell up. I obeyed, at which point I saw who it was, and soon I was cursing a sonoluminescent blue streak through the dark as I tried to light his ass up with a fiery admonishment from hell.

He took that about how you might think he would: with scorn and a scoff, tossing his hair and rolling his eyes, demanding I take him downstairs and cook him dinner. Sensing he wouldn't get the fuck out of my very sleepy hair unless I complied, I trudged to the kitchen on socked feet and set about making him some soup, grilled tofu and rice balls. Took me completely by surprise when the stray cat dogged my steps into the kitchen, but I didn't let his unexpected presence phase me for too long. I just shoved a bag of carrots into his hands before jabbing a chef's knife (handle-side forward, unfortunately) at his chest.

"Here. Take this," I said.

Hiei held the knife aloft with undisguised disdain, sneering, "Pitiful human blade."

"It's for chopping vegetables, not murder," I informed him.

He eyed the knife for a second more, scarlet eyes narrowing… but then he gave a nod of satisfaction and proclaimed: "It could do both."

"... sure, probably, fine." I eyed the carrots tucked into his elbow. "I guess it'd be dumb of me to ask if you know how to julienne…"

Predictably, he did not know how to julienne. Heck, Hiei didn't know how to do anything but light the stovetop with a snap of his bronze fingers. He didn't know you were supposed to peel carrots before eating them, or that you needed to wash your vegetables, or even that you could cook your meat to a temperature besides "hopelessly charred." Originally I'd thought to make him my sous chef, but fat chance of that. Hiei and his attitude made for a miserable assistant.

Ironic, considering his twin had been a lovely sous chef, indeed.

As I walked Hiei through the steps to put together miso soup and a light salad, I thought back to the time I'd taught Yukina to make something similar on Hanging Neck Island. Sure, Yukina hadn't known a carrot from a turnip and had needed her hand held at every step in the cooking process, but she at least had had a decent attitude. Her twin, meanwhile? He moaned and groaned over every little thing, from the smell of the miso paste to the way the rice made his hands sticky when we shaped the onigiri.

Kind of ironic, Yukina's sweetness and warmth despite her status as an ice demon, especially compared to Hiei, the fire demon who glared at me with glacial chill in his flame-red eyes.

That chill reversed itself when Hiei nicked his thumb on the chef's knife, though. He cursed and popped the bleeding digit in his mouth, ice melting and replaced by the fizzing pop of red-hot anger. When Hiei was mad, his fire side came out in force, now didn't it?

He caught me looking at him and glared again. "Stop that," he said, words garbled around his fingertip. "Stop it, now."

"Stop what?" Only half joking, I asked, "Did you read my mind?"

"No. It's just that your thoughts are written all over your face." He waved a hand at his cutting board of chopping vegetables. "You're wondering how a demon so proficient with a sword is so…"

He trailed off. I glanced down. The vegetables on his board were… well, there was no getting around it. They were terrible. Just horrible. Honestly the worst-chopped vegetables I'd ever seen in my life, sliced thick in some places and thin in others, every last piece of a different length. It truly was weird that he was so bad at this considering his sword skills, but… maybe he was just better at murder?

"Yeah. Those are pretty bad," I eventually twittered. "But no. That's not what I was thinking."

"Then what, Meigo?" Hiei demanded.

Hesitation reared its head, but only for a moment. Turning back to the rice I'd been trying to shape, I said, "I taught Yukina to cook. On the island."

Hiei turned back to his cutting board. "Did you, now."

"Taught her some things, at least. We didn't get far… but she at least learned to julienne a carrot." I nudged his shoulder with mine, grinning. "She complained a lot less, too."

"Quiet, Meigo." Hiei harrumphed, lower lip jutting. "The familial resemblance isn't strong."

I didn't bother to contradict him—mostly because he wasn't wrong, and I got the feeling he wouldn't be taking criticism tonight, anyway. We cooked for a while longer in silence, Hiei eventually stepping aside to watch from a spot beside the industrial refrigerator near the stove. I ignored him while I stirred the soup and cooked up our chosen protein, cranking the heat on the stove to high to get a nice sear on the blocks of tofu I had chopped into the—

Hiei said, "I know you didn't—"

He cut himself off before he could finish, mouth shutting with a clack of hard teeth. I eyed him askance as I flipped the tofu, deftly moving the soft white cubes through the sauce coating the bottom of the pan.

"I didn't what?" I asked when Hiei did not continue.

His chin ducked into the pile of scarf around his neck, mouth disappearing into white cloth. I had to strain to hear him over the stove and sizzling food, his words intoned with a soft reluctance that made them almost—but not quite—inaudible to my all-too-human ears.

"She asked," was all that Hiei said. "But you told her nothing."

There was only one person he could be talking about, and the mention of my final conversation with her after the Dark Tournament brought a smile to my face—a teasing one, and one I aimed at Hiei with a wink.

"Are you about to thank me?" I said in a sing-song voice. "Hiei, I'm touched!"

"Don't be ridiculous," he snapped. "I was simply going to commend you for preserving your insignificant human life for another day, because if you had told her anything, you would no longer rank among the living."

"Ah. I see." I didn't bother to feign fear. "My mistake."

Hiei growled, but I didn't pay him any mind. No matter how much bluster he flung my way, I was pretty sure that this conversation was as close to thanks as he'd ever come—and that thanks was indeed what he had been about to say, even though he'd lost his nerve at the last second. But all truth told, Hiei needn't thank me, just as he needn't have worried about me spilling the beans of his relationship with Yukina to that selfsame ice apparition.

I knew better than anyone, after all, what it was like to have a secret—especially one kept from family.

I feel like this prompt response was both about the literal fiery side to Hiei and the stovetop they were cooking next to… but that's kind of a reach on my part. TBH, I'm a little mad at myself for using this prompt to write about Hiei given how literal it is, but I didn't get the chance to start writing until 10:30 PM tonight, and I blanked on something more creative.

Also I'm relatively certain Hiei not-thanked NQK at some point for this same reason during LC, but I don't have time to check so WHOOPSIE-DOODLE, my bad if so.

Also-also feeling like I've made this collection pretty Yusuke-centric thus far, so I'm going to try and make an effort to utilize some other characters in the coming installments. Maybe the other Not-Quites? Kuwabara? Kurama? Tell me who you'd like to see more of!

Huge thanks to these fine folks for keeping me motivated! Your kind words mean the world: C S Stars, cestlavie, Kaiya Azure, buzzk97, xenocanaan, ladyofchaos, Himemiko and guests!