Bafflement was raging through Hiei's veins, but tamping it down and storing it away came a little too easily, naturally, and Hiei couldn't be arsed to feel too awful about that just then.

His eyes remained on Kurama, unwilling as Hiei was to look away from the smirking man for too long. He didn't trust Kurama and couldn't afford to be slow in catching any cues the clearly unstable man might let out, in Hiei's favour as they'd prove to be or otherwise.

… to think all of this was happening because Hiei hadn't put out.

Hiei didn't entertain that thought for longer than a second though. As assuredly as he knew he had two hands, he knew Kurama wasn't looking to finish what they had started that night. No, that goal could be easily achieved by buying a night from Mukuro, since Kurama had somehow found out about Hiei's side gig. It didn't need eight armed men and for Hiei to be cuffed to the bed post.

Unless, of course, Kurama liked his partners weeping and scared for their lives.

"I can't fucking believe you," Hiei growled. "You really don't know how to take a fucking rejection, do you?"

"Don't insult yourself, Hiei." Kurama drawled from where he sat in an armchair near the foot of the bed, one leg atop the other and chin balanced delicately on his palm. He looked nothing like a kidnapper.

"You already know this is not about that. Though to be fair, you should keep that night in mind, should keep it in mind that I tried to go easy on you."

Hiei frowned, and said nothing, keeping Kurama engaged as he slowly began twisting his wrists behind his back. Now that everyone's attention was occupied by the conversation, he could start looking for ways to get out of this situation.

"You see I don't like to make things needlessly messy." Thankfully for Hiei, Kurama seemed to adore the sound of his own voice.

"The cleaning up part is never any fun. I am sure you relate, considering how easy a trail you left behind you for us to follow."

Hiei's stomach tightened. He had been followed from, what he could only assume to be, Japan. For what, he still didn't know. He was hoping Kurama was going to keep rambling and give him that particular piece of information as well.

"But then you had to go and put your hands on Marcus. Our friends here really didn't like that. Honestly, Hiei, I have never been tight of hand but all the money you have made me spend on you is starting to piss me off just a little."

"I haven't made you do shit." Hiei muttered. His heart was beginning to pick up speed in his chest, now. The cuffs were tight. He doubted he could break free. As cheap a hotel as this was, managing to break the bedpost with eight of what looked to be hitmen paid to bring him down in the same room as him, was not going to be possible and he couldn't dare to take his eyes off of Kurama.

"This naive, little boy act really doesn't go well with your police records back home, Hiei."

"Leave me and my family the fuck alone."

Kurama laughed, and Hiei felt his grip on himself falter for a scary second.

He was alone in here, and there was no one coming for him.

Mukuro won't contact him till she fixed him another appointment. Staff in a hotel like this wasn't going to be looking too intently at the CCTVs and Yukina was all too used to Hiei not coming home at night.

In the morning, perhaps…

Immediately, Hiei found himself praying for Yukina to not get involved with this, in the morning or the afternoon or the day after or ever, regardless of what that meant for himself.

Nobody was coming for him. He couldn't break out of these cuffs and there was no way he would manage to leave the room even if he did. It was fact and Hiei was never one to stew in denial for long.

These were his circumstances and he needed to work with them. Keeping Kurama talking was his best chance at… anything, for now. He didn't even know what Kurama wanted from him, where any of this was leading.

Had Hiei not spent a good chunk of his life preparing for this and worse, he would've panicked the fuck out of his mind by now.

Instead his focus zeroes in on Kurama's smug, smirking face and waited to be thrown a fucking bone.

"You brought this on yourself. I don't know why you thought stealing from him was ever going to be a good idea."

"Who?"

… he hadn't stolen anything from anyone, not in his later days of organised crime and dealings with the Yakuza, he hadn't. Even before, it had been petty thievery here and there. He had always been a goon, a hitman, a smuggler, on occasion. He couldn't think of anyone he had stolen anything from who'd chase him down like this no matter how hard he tried to.

"Karasu."

The name was nowhere as big of a revelation as Hiei had been hoping it'd be. He knew no one called Karasu.

"I don't know a Karasu and I stole nothing from him."

For the fist time that evening, Kurama's smile tightened.

"I don't think your situation has quite sunk in yet. What exactly do you think lying is going to achieve?"

"Nothing. Logical conclusion would then be that I am not lying."

Kurama's cold eyes glittered with something so… angry, that for a second Hiei found himself feeling terrified right down to his core.

"You really don't like making things easier for yourself, do you?"

Hiei scoffed.

Kurama straightened. His hair was down tonight, and he looked way older than he had that day, more powerful.

Hiei supposed having eight armed men at your beck and call would do that to you.

"Well then." He whispered and the last thing Hiei felt was a handkerchief laced with the sweet tang of chloroform smothering his mouth and nose and sheer, utter helplessness like he had never felt before.

…

It didn't go the way they show you in movies. Hiei didn't wake up earlier than he was supposed to, try to make a break for it and be caught within minutes of leaving. Instead, it went exactly the way Kurama must have wanted, for Hiei woke up in a fairly big room with bland, cream walls, a bed, a water pitcher, a door in the corner…

… and nothing else.

His first instinct, foolish as it was, was to pray they had forgotten to relieve him of his phone, and check his pockets for it, but not only was his phone gone but so were his wallet and other things he had on him. Next, he surveyed the room, looking for cameras but finding no obvious ones and given there were not a lot of places in the room to hide a camera, he targeted the door next.

It was locked.

A surge of rage rose from within him, and Hiei punched the metal frame of the door. It gave a mighty rattle, and nothing else.

Personal awareness came a few minutes after the jarring pain in his own fist died down. He realised he needed to pee. His head felt heavy and he was also starving.

Hiei's eyes lifted to the pitcher set next to the bed. The psychopaths didn't even bother to give him a fucking table, or so much as a glass.

There would be no point in drugging his water now, Hiei figured, and drained almost half of the pitcher's contents.

Then, nothing happened. For what seemed like hours and hours, nothing happened.

Hiei had no way of keeping track of time, no way of doing anything, really. He lay back on the hard mattress of the single bed and stared up at the stupid cream ceiling, finally letting his mind wander.

The first thought that came in mind was Yukina, followed closely by the assurance that Kuwabara would keep her safe. Hiei couldn't trust the fool with a lot, but he knew Kuwabara would jump headfirst into the jaws of death if it meant Yukina would stay happy and healthy for the rest of her days.

The next person to come to Hiei's mind was Yuusuke.

Yuusuke has introduced Kurama to him. Did he… ?

Hiei dismissed that thought quickly. It was highly unlikely that Yuusuke was involved. That boy didn't have a lot going for him but he was scarily loyal to his friends and he considered Yukina one.

He had most likely been tricked himself, which won't be super difficult, Hiei had to concede. That fool forgot to pay his brain bill when he was a child and nobody bothered to renew his subscription.

Which left him with the question of, why.

Hiei had nothing to do, but that meant he had a lot of free time and he spent all of that time trying to recall what he stole and when and how he could replace it. No matter how many times he went over and over his memories, thoughts running into pointless directions and finally wearing off into frustrated grunts and smothered screams, he couldn't for the life of him figure out what this was about.

He simply hadn't stolen.

However, the name, Karasu…

The more he thought about it, the more he became convinced that he had heard it somewhere, probably in a conversation he didn't then deem important enough to pay attention to, because if he had he'd have remembered it. It didn't do to have a shitty memory in his previous line of work, after all.

He couldn't remember anything, he couldn't do anything, and he really, really needed to pee.

He screamed.

Hiei couldn't tell if it was a scream of terror, or pain, or even a plea. Or if it was one born of desperation and the inability to do anything. He didn't even know where he was, or if anyone was even around to hear him.

All he knew was that for a precious few moments, he felt passably okay.

So he screamed.

Then, he got up, drained the pitcher and did his business.

At least now he had a little gift for Kurama for when he visited him next.

…

Kurama wasn't the one to visit him next. Instead it was three Japanese men who barged in with stoic expressions and their guns close by hand. In crisp Japanese they told him it was time for him to 'take a break'. Hiei didn't mention the pitcher full of piss and allowed them to handcuff him.

Not that he had any other option.

He was led outside the room, through the door, which opened into a longer corridor of the same mind-numbing cream colour. Before he could get a good enough view of his surroundings, the door next to his was thrown open and he was promptly tossed inside, into a tiny bathroom.

"You have two minutes." He was told, before the door banged shut behind him.

The first thing Hiei did was head towards the shower, except the stall had been locked. With an actual lock.

Hiei refrained from banging his head against it. He headed to the urinal instead but empty as his stomach was, he couldn't poop. So he washed his hands, splashed water on his face, and did a thorough sweep of the washroom.

Only to come up with nothing.

As promised, the door was yanked open two minutes later and he was marched back into his room, where he was left alone again. The retreating backs of the men almost made Hiei cave, and he took one step forward to ask them something, anything, except the door was shut in his face before he could open his mouth and he caught himself.

He wasn't going to give them the satisfaction. He wasn't going to given him the satisfaction.

When they came back with a plate of cold gruel, Hiei took it in silence and didn't even deign to look at them.

…

Two bathroom breaks and a short shower later, Kurama still hadn't visited Hiei.

Someone else had, though.

The man was taller than Kurama, with long black hair flowing down his back and eyes so thin they were merely slits. When he smiled at Hiei, Hiei nearly ripped his face off.

The man had come in alone, no less. Hiei was sure there were guards outside the door, but right now, right here, they were completely alone and the man was at Hiei's mercy.

… or he was at the man's. Hiei had yet to find out which was it.

"I see you've adjusted well." The man remarked loftily, as if speaking to a guest he was having over to his house for an extended weekend and not someone he had kidnaped and taken prisoner.

"Where is he?" Hiei growled. "Where is Kurama?"

"Don't take a shine to that one, boy." The man said, his ridiculous smile widening till it seemed to be threatening to split his face apart. "His job is done. You won't be seeing a lot of him anymore."

"Are you Karasu?" Hiei demanded.

"Now," the stranger chuckled. "Why do you curse me out so? All I have done is welcome you to what will be your home for as long as you keep the bracelet from us."

"Like I told your red haired little pig before, I don't have a fucking bracelet. I don't have anything of yours."

"It wasn't in your apartment. No sales from you have been recorded after you left Japan, none of value anyway." The man gave a meaningful pause, his chin tilting in the direction of Hiei's midriff.

Hiei bared his teeth, only prompting a chuckle from the man.

"I jest. I am sure you're quite the prize. My husband certainly thought so, given how intent he was on sleeping with you."

For the first time since Kurama had burst in through that door in his hotel room, Hiei was well and truly shocked.

"What?"

"I'll admit it made me a little jealous, but that's a personal grudge you and I can settle after Karasu is done with you."

Hiei stared.

"So, for personal reasons as well as professional ones I'd urge you to hurry and fess up, boy. Karasu is not going to wait for long, and neither am I."

"How old even is Kurama?"

The man's smile vanished, the complete 180 his expression did nearly making Hiei stumble.

"Stop saying his name." He warned.

So obviously, Hiei didn't.

"Why?" Hiei smirked, the curve of his mouth dressing itself in all the contempt he could barely contain. "Does it hurt to know your precious Kuramatried everything he could to get his dick into this valueless whore and failed all because I, the valueless whore, rejected him? Does it hurt to know you're playing house with a prostitute's rejects?"

The man lunged, quicker than Hiei could've guessed he would, given his height and clearly muscled frame, and instinctively, Hiei's hand flew to the only thing he had for a weapon.

The pitcher.

The man came to a stop in the middle of Hiei's room, eyes and mouth squeezed shut, drenched in Hiei's urine. Hiei allowed himself a precious sliver of satisfaction. He hoped Kurama's husband would convey the fucking message.