He's the Answer
"How would you like to live with me?" he'd asked, and the boy had just stared, without blinking, and Kazuma had seen the Cat in him.
It wasn't guilt that had inspired his offer, but it may have been guilt that held his breath after the offer was given. When Kyo nodded, Kazuma felt himself breathe again, and his heart felt lighter. Now he could make amends - for himself, his grandfather, and the boy as well. Kyo would not have to live as the Cat had so often lived. Kyo could still have a life full of love; he could still be happy. Kazuma was still young, and had not thought of having children before now, but he'd come from a large enough family. It couldn't be that hard.
Three days later, after seven tantrums, two disappearances, and one especially disastrous meal of leeks, Kazuma was wondering if they'd made a terrible mistake.
It wasn't so much that Kyo was unpleasant, as it was that he would go from silent and sullen to raging against the world in the space of a moment. Kazuma couldn't blame him; what child could rationally and calmly deal with the loss of his mother? But he found, to his disappointment, that he couldn't treat it. He couldn't help. He didn't know what to say, when to say it, or whether or not he should hug the boy.
And then Kyo would disappear, out on his own with Kazuma left feeling frantic and inept. He didn't go far: Kazuma had found him each time, with minimal effort. He liked climbing, and he apparently liked the view from high places. Kazuma couldn't cajole him down, though, and so in the end he'd just have to wait for Kyo to get hungry and come to dinner.
Three days of this. Kazuma wondered, finally, if he was just hurting Kyo more.
Maybe his cause wasn't as noble as he'd thought.
Maybe what he had thought was a selfless act was, in actuality, a thinly-disguised attempt at impossible forgiveness, and all Kazuma was doing was using a poor semi-orphaned boy to make up for the pain he'd caused someone else, years ago.
He stood outside Kyo's room, where the boy was napping, and put a hand over his eyes. He had questions, and no one to answer him.
When Kyo woke up for dinner, Kazuma served him haddock. He watched the boy eat, and one question at least was answered for him.
"We're going to have to work hard, Kyo," he said. Kyo stopped, and turned wide orange eyes upwards to peer at him. "To get to know each other." He smiled gently. "We have a lot of time."
Kyo waited, and slowly smiled back.
"I'm willing to work," said Kazuma, and made a fist, to show how ready he was.
"I am too," said Kyo, and mimicked the fist, shaking his in the air.
They laughed. For one moment, Kazuma didn't think about the Zodiac or the past or his grandfather; he just was. And he felt right.