Fond Memories
by Morgan D.
~*~
Yu Yu Hakusho belongs to Yoshihiro Togashi, Shueisha, Studio Pierrot, Fuji TV and Jump Comics, but its amazing characters are simply too cute to be left alone. I'm making no money from this, just lots of friends who are just as crazy as I am, or even worse - that is enough reward for me.
Shounen Ai.
To Curruira ("Eu não conheci o outro mundo por querer!")
~*~
Part One
Kurama left the bathroom muttering an angry curse, rubbing the rough towel against his scalp as he stepped into his room in the Kubikukuri Hotel. He had learned to live with all the unpleasant aspects of being a demon trapped in a human body - refraining from giving in to his natural whims of stealing, keeping a low-profile, pretending ignorance on matters a teenager should not master, guarding his secrets from a very affectionate mother, blocking the renowned Youko lust for more than a decade of chastity... He had managed to overcome the anguish those needs brought him. But there was yet one aspect he could not stand, one cruel change imposed by his rebirth as Shuuichi Minamino that made him sulk every single day of his human life.
"I want my old hair back!" he yelled, throwing the towel furiously over his bed.
From his perch on the windowsill, Hiei didn't seem to acknowledge Kurama's presence in the room, except for a brief raise of his eyebrows. The Fire Demon kept staring at the forest and distant shore outside, as sunbeams lazily spread over the island.
Kurama didn't expect any reaction from him, since there had never been one to any of the times he had complained about his mane in Hiei's presence. Only once did Hiei grace him with some comment, snorting something like "Vain Youko, silly ningen!" under his breath.
Sitting on the bed, Kurama started running his fingers through the wet locks, trying to clear the wild mess of knots that fell over his shoulders. He had decided to grow his red hair in an attempt of regaining some of the former appeal and exotic beauty Youko Kurama was famous for in the Makai. However, this new hair was very different from the soft silky strands that seemed to come to life when blown up by the dark winds of his birth world. He hardly had problems combing his silver hair then, as he could face rain, gale, swimming, or the most complicated fighting, and his locks wouldn't tie themselves up on fierce knots like those the red, thick mane always came up with.
"I should cut it all," he huffed, knowing he would never do it. Knotty or not, it was a pretty hair and he was proud of it. And certainly he wouldn't give Hatanaka-san, his mother's new... well... boyfriend, that pleasure. Kurama had no real quarrel with the guy - he seemed to be honest and respectful, if somewhat old-fashioned, and he truly cared about Shiori - but his funny comments about his long hair, careful dressing and polite ways annoyed him. Humans could be so narrow-minded sometimes...
After a hundred strokes his scalp was hurting, and not a few strands were entwined around his tired fingers, but his locks seemed at last clear of the toughest knots. He had yet to try the comb...
By the corner of the eye, he saw Hiei stir on his contemplative posture. He drawn up one leg closer to his chest, the other dangling freely a couple of inches over the floor. Kurama noticed the slack grip the Jaganshi had on his katana and realized that, compared to the brutal tension he had been through in that terrible island, Hiei was quite relaxed now.
He certainly deserved it. They all did. After all, they were the new champions of the great Dark Tournament. It cost them too much, and none of them would ever be the same again.
A mischievous smile crossed the redhead's face. Just how much more relaxed could the Fire Demon get to be? "Hiei, will you please comb my hair?"
His words still hung in the air as the katana fell on the carpet with a mute thump. Ah, that relaxed...
"What?!" Hiei had turned his back to the window to plainly face the fox. Kurama wasn't sure of the true essence of the swirling shades he could detect in his friend's eyes, but the simple fact that he could see the other's confusion was enough to prove how unusually unguarded Hiei was at that quiet moment of peace.
"My hair's all tangled again. Will you help me?"
Hiei snorted, stepping quickly on the katana hilt, causing the blade to jump in the air in a gracious arc and land smoothly on its owner's palm. "I can help you, all right," he said, standing in a ready-to-combat stance.
"Drop that thing!" Kurama used the comb to "cross swords" with a playful grin. "Or I'll make lots of little pigtails in your hair."
"I'd like to see you try." But there was no real challenge in Hiei's grumble. As if to verify that, he slowly approached the bed, dropping the katana on the sheets and sitting at the Youko's back. Hesitant fingertips ran through the crimson strands, as Hiei took the comb in his bandaged hand. "It's soggy," he complained.
"Forgot the dryer back home."
"Hn." Moving swiftly, Hiei brought the comb to untangle the damp mane.
"Ouch!" Kurama winced in pain. "Easy, Hiei! You're gonna tear my head off!"
"It'd be a lot easier with the katana." But his next try was a lot softer, almost ticklish. "Looks like a rat's nest."
"Okay, so let's talk about those funny spikes of yours."
Hiei gave no answer, his attention now focused at the task at hand. Kurama smiled, his mind drifting with the warm waves caused by the Fire Demon's gentle touch. Hiei was astoundingly relaxed, compared to his usual laconic ways, as if he was too tired to keep the scowling façade.
And maybe he was. Sharing that hotel room for long weeks didn't give Hiei much opportunity to be alone as Kurama would seldom be out of sight, and never too far away. I've known him for almost four years already, but he always came and went as he wished, thought the redhead. This time he was stuck with me.
Kurama had expected trouble. Nasty quarreling, bickering, fights... But the little youkai's ill temper didn't exceed its usual during that period. Many evenings they spent in comfortable silence in their room, Kurama with a book, Hiei perched contemplatively on the windowsill, while Kuwabara and Yusuke had fun with the girls. One respected the reserved ways of the other, and their companionship sailed on undisturbed.
But...
There's always a 'but', ne? Kurama muttered to himself.
Sometimes the silence between them felt too comfortable. It made the Youko think of a man who adds a spoonful of sugar to his coffee, oblivious to the fact that that sugar came from a cane plantation where seven-year-old kids worked for tips in the harvest, often having their limbs mutilated by the cutting tools. The two demon friends would lie back in their seats, mute and cozy, doing their best to ignore a murderous sandstorm blowing outside. That was how Kurama felt at least.
In what exactly that "sandstorm" consisted, the Youko couldn't say. It was just a vague feeling, a pale sensation, a faint intuition that secrecy sneaked on him. On them. But until he got a better impression of the problem, Kurama wouldn't mention it.
For now, he would only enjoy the restoration of the friendship between them, knowing how fortunate he was for still having it. Kurama wondered if any other demon would have forgiven his double-cross during the stealing of the Reikai treasures. Hiei still showed some bitterness about the whole thing now and then, but none of the rage and resentment the Youko had expected. Apparently the Fire Demon was simply not the kind of guy who kept hard feelings. Even when he should.
Sometimes, that partial opening and lack of rancor that Hiei offered him would start to tempt him into dangerous games. The youkai was so funny to tease... He had the sort of soberness and uptight attitude that would leave an impish kitsune like Kurama just dying to see him slip on a banana peel. And the redhead could nudge him about his short height, his spiky hair, his baby-like features and his beautiful little sister, watch him blush with contempt, knowing that Hiei's vicious snarling wouldn't have any serious consequences afterwards. Summing it all up, the diminutive youkai was the perfect victim to a Youko's mischief.
Kurama was quite aware that someday he might cross the line with his jests. And the danger made part of the fun. "That feels good..."
"What? Having a rat's nest in your head?"
"Your hands in my hair... Has anyone told you that you are a born coiffeur, Hiei?"
"A what?!" Hiei eyed him suspiciously. He had been called lots of names in his life. Mostly ugly names. His answer to those calls used to be swift and definitive.
The Youko giggled. "A hairdresser," he explained. Even after all those years in Ningenkai, some details of the human culture were still a mystery for the youkai. Not that he seems too intent in learning them anyway...
Hiei frowned. "You mean like that sissy guy with ridiculous earrings who cuts your hair every month?" He sounded really offended. "I should really cut this damned mop off..."
But Kurama was too amused to care about the muttered threat. "I don't believe it, Hiei! You've been spying me in the hairdresser?" He didn't have to turn his head to know that the Jaganshi was blushing behind him.
"Hn. There's nothing to do in this miserable world." Hiei sounded a lot like a kid caught with a porno magazine in the bathroom.
"Nothing better than watching me having my hair cut?" No wonder Kurama loved to tease Hiei so much. Inari, he's adorable!
"At least while I have my eyes on you I know you're not plotting against me," Hiei replied defensively.
Kurama smiled. And some people think Hiei's emotions are hard to read... The redhead had no problems with it at all. For him, the Fire Demon was an open book, with all his aloofness and apathy. The usual impassivity of that angular face was somehow powerless in fooling Kurama.
It hadn't been always like this, of course. What a mess the two of them had made while trying to fool each other in the past years... But after their trial in Reikai, when they were both sentenced to serve as Tantei in parole, it seemed as if a blindfold had been taken from Kurama's eyes and two giant corks had been pulled from his ears to which concerned Hiei's ways.
In the very manner he silenced, the short youkai said a lot. And the reluctant crush Hiei had on him couldn't be more noticeable if it was written in red on the bandanna that covered the Jagan.
Should I...? The idea crossed Kurama's mind a thousand times already. It didn't look like a good idea. Hiei was the only demon he had as a friend nowadays, the only one who understood him thoroughly. Civilized creatures like the youkos had no problems sharing sex with friends now and then... Physical attraction between allies and chums was almost so common to be obligatory, and it could be easily dealt with if all the people involved had the sense not to take personal feelings to the bed.
But Hiei? A half-koorime Fire Demon? Young and probably inexperienced? Kurama would have bet his last strand of hair that Hiei would take a casual fuck too seriously... and ruin their perfect tacit agreement. No, not a good idea at all.
Furthermore, Hiei was not really Kurama's type. He's cute and all... attractive in his own way... but what's the fun in a lover so short that you can put him in your pocket?
Since he had started his new life in Ningenkai, the closest Kurama had got to having sex was a clumsy not-so-tasty kiss stolen by a girl in his class when he was eleven. Not that he had lost interest on the pleasures of the flesh - far from it. But that body took long years to be ready and minimally equipped for the task... Going through puberty once was hell... but twice? he moaned to himself.
At fifteen, he was now more than ready and equipped and interested. But whom would he have for a partner? A human teen girl with dreams of marriage and beautiful kids? An adult who could be sentenced to prison for seducing a minor? A professional who would know nothing about pleasing a Youko, with no chance of matching his inventiveness? The search for suitable candidates had been unfruitful so far.
Not too rarely his eager instincts froze in a longing ache in his groin and mind, especially during the last few years, when his body began to be direly assailed by maddening hormones. And then he would find himself gazing at Hiei out of the corner of the eye, wondering, evaluating, shamefully considering taking a youngster he wouldn't have looked twice in his past life.
On the other hand, Hiei's reluctance in openly admitting the crush felt like a mild insult to the Youko's pride. Kurama wanted at least to be wanted, and that his rebuff was lamented. To his annoyance, Hiei sometimes looked almost relieved that the interest wasn't mutual.
So teasing the Fire Demon with mocking seduction was an irresistible dangerous game to the mischievous kitsune too.
"Where did you get the new sword?" Kurama asked in a soft tone.
"None of your business," Hiei shrugged.
"Seems bigger."
"What do you know about swords?" the youkai growled.
So it is bigger, the redhead concluded. "Lots. Want me to show you?"
"No."
"Come on, Hiei, let me hold your sword for a moment and I'll show you my talents."
Kurama expected an incensed scolding from his friend for the double-meaning proposition, but Hiei just snorted. "Hn. I'm not letting you touch anything that is mine."
No scolding? No blushing? Kurama was disappointed. And curious. The Fire Demon was subverting the rules of the game: Kurama sees the door ajar and knocks with a veiled invitation; Hiei panics and shuts it. Frightening the seemingly dauntless youkai was the main fun in it.
But now Hiei had only stuck out his tongue at him, and left the door ajar yet, in a clear "Who's afraid of the big bad Youko?" challenge. Kurama pursed his lips. Be afraid, Hiei. Or I'm gonna blow your little straw house to the airs.
"Well, I have no reservation in letting you touch my hair like this," Kurama replied lazily. "Maybe I should have you combing it for me every morning."
"Don't you think I have better things to do than combing your hair?" Hiei countered moodily.
The Youko grinned. "If you found nothing better to do than watching me in the hairdresser..."
"Sometimes watching is better than doing."
The quick naughty reply brought goose pimples to Kurama's arms. Turning the tables on me, aren't you? "So Ningenkai should be an interesting place for you, Jaganshi. There are lots to watch around."
"I prefer having my eyes on you," Hiei stated calmly, but with a fervent edge to his low voice. "All my eyes."
Kurama blushed. And felt pathetic for it. "Really?"
"You bet."
Inari... The sudden twist in the game was getting the Youko fairly aroused. "You watch me all the time?"
Hiei left the comb on his lap, using his chubby fingers to disentangle a wild knot under Kurama's nape. "Won't give you any chance to plot against me, I told ya."
The door was fully open. What if I really try to enter? Kurama mused, leaning back a little, letting his head rest loose on his friend's hands.
"Don't go sleepy on me, Kurama," was the immediate harsh reaction. "I can't see what I'm doing."
Too much. Too soon. "Sorry." Kurama sat straight again, with a bitter grin. "I guess the sea-breeze makes me a little drowsy."
"Hn."
You see, Hiei? My game. You're no match for it. However, Kurama could not savor his victory. He was still lonely, with an unattended arousal squeezed by his tight pants. But what was he thinking? He wasn't seriously considering screwing that little thing, was he? Maybe it was a good thing that they were finally leaving the hotel. Spending so much time so close to each other was giving Kurama weird ideas.
Conversely, now that the Tournament was over, he wasn't all that eager to go back anymore. "Go figure... I think I actually like this place."
"What?"
Did I say that aloud? Kurama shrugged. "This island. It's not noisy, crowded, and smelly like Tokyo. You can breathe without coughing, you can sleep without being awaken by police sirens..."
"You can die without noticing..." Hiei added.
"Easy, Hiei," Kurama protested. "The fights are over now."
"The official fights are over," the youkai corrected him. "So now we're back to the usual system. No rules. No teams. No count to ten to determine the winner. Either you're alive when the combat is over, or you're not."
"The team keeps on, Hiei," the redhead retorted.
"Oh great." The reply was nothing but sarcastic. "I feel so relieved hearing that..." The Fire Demon took the comb again, expressing his contempt in strong severe strokes on the red mane.
"Uhn... loose it up, okay?" Kurama winced. That hurts! "We're both still in parole, so we're both still stuck with Yusuke and Kuwabara. But try to look on the bright side."
"Which is..."
"The pleasure of my company."
Hiei sighed, softening the combing. "Don't you ever get tired of yourself?"
"Not often," the Youko chuckled.
"Good for you. Coz I do."
"Oh..." Kurama bit his lip to stop the laughter. "You get tired of yourself?" You're no match for me, I told you.
But instead of scowling at the wise crack, Hiei took it literally. "That wasn't what I meant. But I guess I often get tired of myself too."
Kurama grimaced. Why can't I enjoy a single victory over you today, Hiei? "I'm not surprised... There's no reason to be moody about this place anymore. If you really look at it without probing for sneaking enemies, you'd notice how beautiful it is."
"Was that what you were doing when you let that dark-haired crow plant those bombs around you?" the youkai sniffed. "Enjoying the view?"
The Youko's shoulders tensed instantly. "Do me a favor, Hiei. Don't ever mention that weirdo's name again."
"I didn't," Hiei smirked.
Kurama rolled his eyes. "Anyway, I wasn't enjoying the view."
"Not your type either?"
"No," was the vehement answer.
That was unusual. The Fire Demon would seldom be that straightforward on that subject. And what did he mean by "either"? Was he reading my mind a minute ago?
"So you wanted the others to enjoy the view," Hiei concluded.
The redhead frowned. "What others?"
"I don't know. Others. Your audience. You always make every fight of yours look like this huge deadly spectacle."
"Don't you think that the martial arts can be beautiful?" Kurama argued.
"They can be," Hiei conceded. "They might be. But you... you seem to think they should be."
"So?"
"Sometimes I think you might agreeably die if you thought your death would be more beautiful than killing your opponent." The youkai huffed. "You're nuts, Kurama. I have no idea how you managed to live for so long. You kept dancing with that guy and his bombs and your plants... it felt like I was watching a peepshow."
The Youko turned his head slightly to see the short youkai's face. "Did it turn you on?"
"No," Hiei replied with mirrored vehemence. Pulling the red hair, he forced Kurama to look away again. "Sit straight. I can't comb your hair like this."
Where are we going with this conversation? Kurama wondered, more than a bit apprehensive. "I think you give me too much credit for my fighting skills, Hiei. Karasu was a terrifying enemy. I really fought my best... and for a moment I thought it wouldn't be enough."
"He scared you," the youkai accused.
"Yes." Kurama hadn't told his friend about that encounter in one of the corridors of the stadium, or the words of love and death uttered by the tall demon with long slick black hair. He was sure Hiei wouldn't understand him anyway.
"So why didn't you throw all you got over him right when the round started? Why did you keep playing with him?"
"Why did you keep playing with Bui before using the Kokuryuuha?" Kurama riposted. "And when you did, why didn't you absorb the Black Dragon in your body right from the start, since it makes you so much powerful? And why the hell did you let him spank you like that when he had no chance of defeating you?"
"Were you worried about me, Kurama?" Hiei asked mischievously.
"No." Again the vehement denial. That was quite an interesting game. Kurama only wished he knew the rules. Was that the reason, Hiei? To see if I cared?
"I was just testing him," the youkai shrugged.
"No, you were scared too. You were afraid of where your own powers might take you."
The Fire Demon didn't react.
"I was afraid of that too," Kurama confessed. "I'm not the same Youko anymore... but in that moment, I was. And I knew that if..." He trailed off. "Forget it. You won't understand."
He thought Hiei would insist, but it didn't happen. The youkai just kept combing the red locks in silence. And once again, Kurama was disappointed. I was the one who left the door ajar this time, he mused. But you didn't knock.
He sighed, trying to relax and enjoy the soft tending Hiei was giving his hair. His body still hurt with the many wounds caused by those damned bombs, and he longed for a vacation - for in a week more he would have to go back to school, with the end of the holidays. He even thought about staying a little longer and savor the sun at the beach, and the fresh fragrant air that rushed through the green forest that circled the hotel. But he knew better than bringing this subject up to Hiei. "Anyway. All in all, we hit it off here, and we even managed to have some fun."
"Did we?" Hiei's tone was puzzled.
Kurama shrugged. "I did. I'm taking a lot of fond memories with me."
"Fond memories of what? Fighting, running, killing, bleeding to death?"
"Well, that wasn't what I meant, but why not?" the redhead insisted.
"Ya crazy, Kurama," Hiei muttered.
"Maybe. But I'm not the only one. Last night Yusuke was telling me how he would miss Chuu and Jin, and Kuwabara was still bragging about a rematch with Rinku, Suzuki and Shishi Wakamaru."
"And what would you miss? Roto's threats to your ningen mother? That rotten machine that Ichigaki threw at us in the forest? The beat-up Bakuken gave you after you passed out? Hn... or perhaps the weirdo whose name I won't say..."
"Hiei..."
"Fond memories... You're really nuts, Kurama," Hiei mocked, punctuating the last sentence with a vigorous stroke of the comb.
Kurama winced again, both at the pain and at his friend's words. "Okay, I admit my opponents were all a little too rough to make me really miss them."
"A little too rough? A little too rough?" Hiei gaped. "Is there anything in your head besides this?" he asked, now willingly pulling his hair.
"OUCH! What's your problem, Hiei? Never found an opponent who fascinated you? Someone with that stunning gleam in the eye, with a superbly strong spirit, someone you wanted to fight once again?"
Hiei pondered about that, resuming the combing. "Most of my opponents don't live to fight again, Kurama."
That's no boasting, Kurama mused. There was none in Hiei's tone, and the statement reflected nothing but the crude truth. The Jaganshi's attacks were very pragmatic: fast, indefensible, and utterly destructive. The combination of his astounding speed, the implanted Jagan, and the Makai Fire turned Hiei into a dreadful enemy to anyone who would stand in his way. With such a ravaging force, it was hard for him not to kill his adversaries, and everyone in sight along with them.
"Bui survived," the redhead remembered.
"Hn."
"Why didn't you kill him, Hiei?" Kurama didn't really need to ask. He knew. But it was always interesting to see if the youkai would admit it or not.
"If a guy wants to die, he should do it all by himself," Hiei muttered, "instead of bothering others with his blood."
Of course, Hiei has his peculiar way of being honest, the Youko smirked. "I kept watching you during that fight."
"Enjoying the view?"
You're not done with the game yet, Hiei? "Actually I was paying attention to your eyes."
The short demon frowned, but didn't reply.
Kurama paused what he was going to say, startled when no smart-ass retort came. As quick as it had opened, the door closed again. Did I scare you again? Just because I mentioned your eyes? "You know what I saw?"
The air froze at the Youko's back. Again no answer was uttered.
"Sheer rapture..." Kurama completed.
"Rapture?" Hiei echoed in a hoarse hiss.
"The clash of your powers with Bui's... the clash of your spirits. I never saw you so entranced, so gleeful. Not even when you fought Yusuke."
"Oh... that." The Fire Demon shrugged. "It was nice to find someone who was not a completely wimp for a change."
Damn! Missed it! Whatever it was that Hiei was so afraid that might have been spotted in his eyes, Kurama failed to hit it. "Then you know the feeling. Wouldn't you like to face Bui once more?"
"Why? I won."
"Maybe he'll seek a rematch."
"He won't," the youkai said firmly. "There'd be no point to it."
"But..."
"Drop it, Kurama," Hiei warned. "He won't. I wasn't his goal, just a step to get him closer to the fight he was really longing for. When I beat him, I ruined his scaling. And now it just doesn't matter anymore. If he had to fight me again, no matter the winner of this rematch, all he would get is the reminder of a loss he can't make up for."
"Hiei..." The sadness in his voice... "You regret having won?"
"I regret nothing."
Now that is boasting! Kurama smirked. But he changed the subject anyway. "What about Yusuke?"
"What about him?"
"Wouldn't you like to fight him again?"
Hiei scowled. "Of course I would. I will," he amended.
"So..."
"So what? I don't want a rematch because I have "fond memories" of that fight, as you said. We have unfinished business to settle."
"Oh come on," the Youko chided. "You aren't still mad at Yusuke because he called you a cockroach, are you?"
Kurama was able to feel the youkai's glare burning his nape. "If I were to care about flimsy things like that," Hiei snarled, "you really think I would have let you live?"
That one could be boasting. On the other hand, maybe it wasn't. But Kurama wasn't frightened. He was confident that the Fire Demon had no plans of ruining the comfortable friendship between them.
Or is it because I'm "really nuts"? Who else would have the nerve of provoking Hiei like he did, as frequently as he did? It wasn't like he didn't know what would be coming his way if the short youkai got really pissed. But it sure is exciting to have the master of the Black Dragon brushing my hair...
"Nah, Hiei... I think I would still be alive anyway," Kurama bragged.
"Oh really?" The youkai snorted.
Honestly, the Youko wasn't sure. The only time he had dueled against Hiei for real had been many years before, when his friend was no more than a D-class demon, and Kurama himself had to deal with a younger, feebler human body that couldn't yet manage the extent of his Youko powers. If I could summon my real form again... He sometimes wondered about the outcome of a new confrontation between them.
"Well, I survived you when we first met, and with flying-colors, remember?" Kurama teased. "And you know what? I have very fond memories of that day."
Fingers closed harshly around the red locks.
Kurama ignored them. "Specially of you lying flat on the ground," he mocked, turning slightly to see the other's reaction.
He regretted the scoffing immediately. Hiei's face had turned into a frightful mask, blood-colored eyes half-closed in a spiteful glare, sharp fangs exposed between stiff lips. The Jagan glowed under the white bandanna, and Kurama shivered at how much those glinting ruby eyes resembled the Black Dragon's just before one of its raging charges.
"Hi-Hiei...?" Had he finally crossed the line? I can't believe he's still so sensitive about this!
"You have fond memories of that?" Hiei's voice was barely a husky whisper, each word throbbing in the Youko's ears, the edgy tone reminding him of the Dragon's shrieking roar.
So much for his relaxed mood, Kurama thought grimly. "Of course I have," he answered, doing his best to keep his voice from faltering. "It was great to find someone able to present me a real challenge." He hoped deeply that Hiei would catch the compliment and cool off. The grip on his hair was getting quite painful to his scalp. Kurama waited anxiously as his words struck home, keeping a firm stare on the red eyes.
Hiei's response was far from what he expected. The furious scowl contorted in a wild grimace, as eyebrows arched hazily and the tiny mouth popped up, fangs vanishing from sight. Cheeks trembled as the demon's emotions convoluted over his face, too mixed up for Kurama to grasp. Hiei looked almost funny. Almost. "Challenge?" he managed at last. "Me?"
What does he want? Flattery? "Come on, Hiei. I survived but I didn't win. It was a tie, okay? And I know I'd have had a real hard time if you weren't wounded when we fought. Now calm down and let me go before you make me bald."
Hiei did let go of his hair, but his expression was turning weirder every second, while he stared at the Youko as if he had never seen him before. Kurama was frantic. Who would believe that? I was so good in reading his feelings when he kept his face a blank mask, now it seems like his soul is exploding right before my eyes and I don't have a clue of what's happening!
But then suddenly peace came back to his friend's demeanor, like a blazing spark dismantling a dark cloud, as understanding dawned on him. "You mean... when we first met here," he sighed.
And as if nothing had happened, Hiei returned to the combing very gently, handling each strand with such a care that caused Kurama to gasp. The Youko shuddered, feeling the sudden drop of heat around him, realizing Hiei had summoned his dark, warm ki in his anger, bathing both of them with the fiery energy of his spirit. Now that the ki vanished from his senses, Kurama had the impression of being drowned in icy water.
Something inside him pleaded to drop the subject and give thanks that the matter was closed without any bloodshed, but he just couldn't hold his natural foxy curiosity. He had just crossed a huge hurricane, without knowing what had caused it, much less how he managed to avoid its fury. And that simply wasn't good enough.
When we first met... "here"? What's that supposed to mean? Here where? In Ningenkai? But then... Green eyes shimmered in alarm. "Hiei?"
Hiei gave no sign of hearing and Kurama shifted on the bed to sit facing him. The movement pulled the soft strands of hair the youkai had been tending to so absorbedly out of his hand. But Hiei's only reaction was transferring his attention to one of the redhead's long sidelocks, fiercely avoiding meeting the green staring eyes.
"Hiei?" Kurama tried again, speaking slowly, almost whispering. "Have we met before?"
A slight frown crossed the Fire Demon's brow.
Kurama gulped. "Before I came to the Ningenkai?"
A little twitch on Hiei's lips.
Uh-oh... "In the Makai? In my Youko form?"
The eyelids narrowed.
"I-I don't remember," Kurama confessed, now truly worried. What the hell have I done? Youko Kurama had been no gentle flower... and some memories of that life sorely dismayed Shuuichi Minamino's part of their combined soul.
"It's not important," Hiei muttered.
Could have fooled me, Kurama mused sarcastically. "But... we really met? I mean, did we actually talk to each other?"
"Sort of," was the brief answer.
"And we exchanged our names?"
The Fire Demon frowned deeply at that. "You said yours. And I sort of said mine."
Oh Inari... "We had a fight?"
"Sort of."
Youko Kurama fought a D-classed - or even lower - Hiei? "Not a fair fight, I presume," he bit his lip. Please say "sort of", please...
"Nope."
The door between them was left wide open. And through the passage entered the murderous sandstorm Kurama had predicted.
He tried hard to remember. Was it possible? Hiei had not exactly an ordinary semblance. How could I have forgotten him?
But that wasn't nearly the important question there. "Hiei?" he whispered. "What happened?"
The youkai kept combing the tips of Kurama's locks in deep silence.
"Hiei, please," asked the redhead, holding the demon's small hands. "Tell me."
"It doesn't matter anymore," Hiei sighed.
"I wanna be the judge of that," the Youko insisted. "Along with you."
At last the Fire Demon raised his eyes to face his taller teammate. "You already judged it. You forgot."
Is that an accusation? Or relief? "Then remind me. If it really doesn't matter, I'll forget again. If it does matter..."
The youkai offered him a weird lopsided smile. In some way it seemed Hiei had returned to that strange relaxation of the beginning of the conversation. "We met. We wanted the same thing. We fought. You won."
Huffing, Kurama shook his head. "I think you'll have to elaborate a little more..."
Hiei hesitated, considering the demand. "No rematches, Kurama. Of any kind. I need your promise."
The Youko arched an eyebrow, suspicious about the little demon's tone. If I won, why would I want a rematch? And if I won in a dirty fight, why wouldn't he want a rematch? "I'm not sure if I can promise you that."
"Then forget it."
"I need to know!" the redhead protested.
"Why?"
Kurama blinked. "What?"
"Why do you need to know? Didn't you just say that you're not that same Youko anymore? It's past, history, done and over. Forget it."
"You didn't forget, Hiei."
The Fire Demon gently pulled his hands free from Kurama's grasp, leaning back to rest his shoulders against the head of the bed. "Ever heard of a thing called 'perfect memory'?"
Kurama's eyes widened. That was a rare anomaly among demons, the ability of keeping a perfect register of all past experiences undamaged in the brain.
In other words, the physical incapability of forgetting anything.
He has a perfect memory? The redhead gaped. "Why did you never tell me?"
"Why would I?"
Good point, the Youko admitted. That was the basic rule, right? I respect your privacy, you respect mine, we stay together in silence. But that was not enough anymore. "Tell me what happened, Hiei."
"No rematches?"
"I..." That was too large a promise.
"If something was lost there, we can't make up for it, Kurama," Hiei murmured. "Trust me."
A request Hiei wouldn't make lightly, the Youko recognized. "All right," he agreed at last. "No rematches."
The Fire Demon nodded solemnly, and Kurama prepared to hear the story, still wondering how he could have forgotten all about it.
But Hiei didn't say a word more. Instead, he untied the white bandanna, opening the evil violet gleaming Jagan.
"Wait, Hiei," Kurama freaked out. "What are you do...?"
Even for a Youko with Kurama's power and experience it was hard to beat this Fire Demon's speed. He didn't even see Hiei's fingers approaching to touch his brow, right in its center, causing the worst headache Kurama had felt in centuries.
The walls of the room melted down in liquid colors, rushing into his head through the spot his skin met Hiei's. Kurama closed his eyes against the storming swirl of burning shapes that threatened to smash his brain, as a squeaking whistle cut through his ears in a desperate wail, making him sick to his stomach.
But the nausea was brief, and soon he found himself very relaxed and warm, his mind enveloped in bluish light, bittersweet smells flowing up to his nostrils.
Kurama smiled. Long before opening his eyes he knew he was back home.
Not to his suburban home at Tokyo.
He was back to the wild green forests of the Makai, feeling the blood-scented wind blowing through his silver hair.
~*~
September 29th, 2000
To be continued...
This story is part of the Eien no Hakusho timeline.