Okay, guys and gals. here's a new one for you. I'll be putting up two
chapters at a time with this one. The chapters will alternate between Hiei
and Kurama's POV. While I have complete faith that you could all figure out
whose POV a chapter is from, I'll make sure to tell you anyway.
Once again, this is shonen-ai. (Will I ever do anything else?) Angsty/Fluffy. What a mix, ne? Oh, well. You all seem to like it so far!
Thanks to everyone who's reviewed my work! I'm sorry I haven't left more reviews for you guys. I promise I will do better!
Anyway, my previous stories have been loosely rated, compared to this one. Nothing explicit, really, but it's R-rated for a reason. Not the first chapter, but it progressively gets worse. Or better, depending on your tastes! I like it, anyway.
Let me know what you think. Now. enjoy reading!!! I do not own these lovelies!
midnyte-fox
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Hiei's POV
I watched him, as I always do, from the concealing green branches of a tree. I looked on as he attended his school, going from class to class, living out his day as the ningen Minamino Suuichi. I noticed, indeed I would have been blind not to, that my eyes were not the only ones that tracked him. Everyone adored him. I would almost say they worshipped him. They all lavished attention upon him; his mother, his instructors, his peers.
No, I corrected myself. Not peers. Youko Kurama did not have peers. He had fans, yes, mindless followers, and enemies, always. Even a choice few he considered as friends. But none were equal to him, at least not in my eyes. He was loved, cared about, treated so well by those around him.
And here I was, the Forbidden Child, reduced to watching him from a tree.
I followed his movements throughout the day, telling myself I had nothing better to do. I watched as he subtly shunned everyone, his expression polite and cool, an unreadable mask. He showed the same tolerant, yet charming façade to everyone he encountered, particularly the girls.
In all honesty, I couldn't blame them. I watched, as he stood outside. Anyone would have wanted him. His hair lay like silken fire down his back. His jade eyes, though distant, were beautiful. He was beautiful. His body was lithe and strong, slender like a dancer's. I smiled. In truth, to see him fight, even to see him move, is much like watching a dance. He is swift, graceful, and deadly. One would think he counts combat to be an art even more than I do.
Still, as I watched him below, I had to suppress some amusement. The thought of the dangerously seductive Youko Kurama running from a pack of ningen schoolgirls was quite entertaining, in it's way.
I passed the day in such thoughts, and suddenly the bell rang, signaling the end of his confinement. I watched closely for him, saw as he walked outside, paused just on my side of the gates. He scanned the treetops, and I let a little of my ki flare, just enough so that he could pinpoint my location. Then I slipped down to the base of the tree. I waited for him there.
As he approached me, the mask he wore slowly slid away, to be replaced with a multitude of emotions. His hair blew around his face, stirred by the slight wind that rustled in the trees. I shivered. It was late autumn, and the days and nights were getting colder.
He saw me huddle further into my cloak and smiled. One hand tucked a lock of hair behind his ear. He stopped a few feet away from me, tucking his books under one arm. I cleared my throat.
"How you can stand those mobs of ningens is beyond my understanding, fox. They are so very sweet in their utter adoration of you. It's a wonder you do not suffocate." I scowled. "I only wish they knew that they fawned over the ruthless Youko Kurama, infamous thief of the Makai." I allowed myself a predatory smile.
Kurama's eyes glinted. "Come now, Hiei. I don't want to scar them for life. They're nice enough, after all, and while the excessive saccharine is a bit annoying, they mean well."
I shook my head. "Hn."
He laughed, then turned, walking slowly toward his home, falling leaves drifting down around him. I grumbled. While they slid right off him, they stuck in my hair. I constantly had to run my hand through it to make sure I didn't look too undignified. As if on cue, one of Kurama's hands reached over to me and pulled one of the offending objects from it's resting place. I watched as he twirled the stem of it between his fingers.
We walked the rest of the way to his home in silence. I stole glances at him, and every once in awhile our eyes would meet, and he would smile at me. Unsure of how to respond to that gesture, I merely blinked at him and looked away before my cheeks could color, betraying my uncertainty.
I hated how he could put me in such a state of confusion. He was so friendly to me, even caring. But I was the Forbidden Child, and there was no emotion to be given to me unconditionally but hate or disgust. I learned that long ago, and that is how I came to wonder, every time he smiled, what it was that his smile would cost me later.
We reached his house in a moderate amount of time. Normally we would part ways here. He would go inside, and I would sprint off into the trees. So we did, but instead of leaving, I went up to his room, opening the window and seating myself on the sill inside. I was, uncharacteristically, in the mood for company.
His face registered some surprise as he came into his room. He cocked an eyebrow, but said nothing, dumping his books and his jacket onto his bed. His scarf he unwound and hung over the doorknob. I watched, blushing slightly, as he undressed, changing from his school uniform into more comfortable clothing. He wasn't the least bit self-conscious. Then again, he had no reason to be.
I watched as he unbuttoned his shirt, letting it slide down his arms and to the floor. He left it there, and turned to pick up a sweater. I let my eyes take him in, watching the fluidity of his movements. He could put such utter, seductive grace into the most ordinary of actions. My earlier thoughts of his dancer's body came back to me, and I wondered what he would look like, hair twining around his shoulders, body moving in elegant form. There would be no music. He wouldn't need music. It would take away from the beauty, the sensuality of it. I felt my cheeks burn even redder, and I was careful to duck my head for a moment, until I was sure the blush was gone.
Once I was composed, I lifted my head again. He had his back to me, and I was momentarily disappointed that the sweater covered him.
Then he slid the slacks of his uniform down, over slender hips and thighs, and I had to avert my gaze. I couldn't continue to look at his body and act nonchalant. Vaguely, I wondered if he could hear my harsh breath and rapid heartbeat. As silently as I could manage, I gulped for air, relieved when Kurama pulled a pair of jeans up and buttoned them. I watched as he stooped to pick up the discarded clothing, depositing it in a basket next to the door.
"So," he said, as he turned to face me, " it's getting colder. Will you be staying here at night?"
His question was simply asking for confirmation. I answered it as such. "As long as it will not betray either of us."
His eyes were thoughtful, and he nodded. "It should be no problem. I usually lock my door, so Shiori will not think it unusual." He curled one leg under him and sank down onto his bed. His other foot rested on the floor. Smiling, he looked at his bed. "Where would you like to sleep? I can't in all good conscience let you sleep on the floor."
I frowned. His voice was almost solicitous. "And where would you have me sleep, fox? Would you have me share your bed?" I regretted the words as soon as they came out, but did not let it show.
He didn't bother to look at me. "You had no problem last winter. My bed is more than big enough."
"Hn." I frowned. I would never let him know it, but the whole of the makai and ningenkai weren't big enough to save me from my own thoughts. And anyhow, the previous year we had been friendly. Nothing more than that. There had been no attraction between us.
I had no doubt about the fact that Kurama wanted me. Indeed, he had made a point of letting me know it. It was a game to him, though. Even after so long living as a ningen, Youko Kurama could not pass up an interesting little toy. I was sure that was all his attraction to me entailed. I was something he didn't have, and, ever the thief, he craved possession.
That was why I dared not let him know the attraction was mutual. If he discovered that and acted on it, I did not have the will, nor the desire, to deny him. In truth, I would go to him willingly, like a lamb to the slaughter.
He smiled at me then, taking my silence as agreement. It may as well have been, so I let him think it. His eyes flickered over me, and for a moment, I saw something in them. Desire, need, sultry charm, and a certain amount of vulnerability.
Standing, I removed my cloak, katana, and shoes. I stashed them next to the window in case I needed to make a quick escape, and walked toward him.
His jade eyes met mine, but he looked quickly away. I smiled. So, I unsettled him a little bit. That was all to the good, but I still couldn't let him know how I felt. I was no one's plaything, and I wouldn't let anyone make me into one. Not even an achingly beautiful, sensual, seductive kitsune.
Walking to the other side of the bed, I laid down, my hands clasped behind my head. Intent on showing him that I was not afraid of being in the same bed with him, I closed my eyes, drifting into a shallow sleep.
Once again, this is shonen-ai. (Will I ever do anything else?) Angsty/Fluffy. What a mix, ne? Oh, well. You all seem to like it so far!
Thanks to everyone who's reviewed my work! I'm sorry I haven't left more reviews for you guys. I promise I will do better!
Anyway, my previous stories have been loosely rated, compared to this one. Nothing explicit, really, but it's R-rated for a reason. Not the first chapter, but it progressively gets worse. Or better, depending on your tastes! I like it, anyway.
Let me know what you think. Now. enjoy reading!!! I do not own these lovelies!
midnyte-fox
* * * * *
* * * * *
Hiei's POV
I watched him, as I always do, from the concealing green branches of a tree. I looked on as he attended his school, going from class to class, living out his day as the ningen Minamino Suuichi. I noticed, indeed I would have been blind not to, that my eyes were not the only ones that tracked him. Everyone adored him. I would almost say they worshipped him. They all lavished attention upon him; his mother, his instructors, his peers.
No, I corrected myself. Not peers. Youko Kurama did not have peers. He had fans, yes, mindless followers, and enemies, always. Even a choice few he considered as friends. But none were equal to him, at least not in my eyes. He was loved, cared about, treated so well by those around him.
And here I was, the Forbidden Child, reduced to watching him from a tree.
I followed his movements throughout the day, telling myself I had nothing better to do. I watched as he subtly shunned everyone, his expression polite and cool, an unreadable mask. He showed the same tolerant, yet charming façade to everyone he encountered, particularly the girls.
In all honesty, I couldn't blame them. I watched, as he stood outside. Anyone would have wanted him. His hair lay like silken fire down his back. His jade eyes, though distant, were beautiful. He was beautiful. His body was lithe and strong, slender like a dancer's. I smiled. In truth, to see him fight, even to see him move, is much like watching a dance. He is swift, graceful, and deadly. One would think he counts combat to be an art even more than I do.
Still, as I watched him below, I had to suppress some amusement. The thought of the dangerously seductive Youko Kurama running from a pack of ningen schoolgirls was quite entertaining, in it's way.
I passed the day in such thoughts, and suddenly the bell rang, signaling the end of his confinement. I watched closely for him, saw as he walked outside, paused just on my side of the gates. He scanned the treetops, and I let a little of my ki flare, just enough so that he could pinpoint my location. Then I slipped down to the base of the tree. I waited for him there.
As he approached me, the mask he wore slowly slid away, to be replaced with a multitude of emotions. His hair blew around his face, stirred by the slight wind that rustled in the trees. I shivered. It was late autumn, and the days and nights were getting colder.
He saw me huddle further into my cloak and smiled. One hand tucked a lock of hair behind his ear. He stopped a few feet away from me, tucking his books under one arm. I cleared my throat.
"How you can stand those mobs of ningens is beyond my understanding, fox. They are so very sweet in their utter adoration of you. It's a wonder you do not suffocate." I scowled. "I only wish they knew that they fawned over the ruthless Youko Kurama, infamous thief of the Makai." I allowed myself a predatory smile.
Kurama's eyes glinted. "Come now, Hiei. I don't want to scar them for life. They're nice enough, after all, and while the excessive saccharine is a bit annoying, they mean well."
I shook my head. "Hn."
He laughed, then turned, walking slowly toward his home, falling leaves drifting down around him. I grumbled. While they slid right off him, they stuck in my hair. I constantly had to run my hand through it to make sure I didn't look too undignified. As if on cue, one of Kurama's hands reached over to me and pulled one of the offending objects from it's resting place. I watched as he twirled the stem of it between his fingers.
We walked the rest of the way to his home in silence. I stole glances at him, and every once in awhile our eyes would meet, and he would smile at me. Unsure of how to respond to that gesture, I merely blinked at him and looked away before my cheeks could color, betraying my uncertainty.
I hated how he could put me in such a state of confusion. He was so friendly to me, even caring. But I was the Forbidden Child, and there was no emotion to be given to me unconditionally but hate or disgust. I learned that long ago, and that is how I came to wonder, every time he smiled, what it was that his smile would cost me later.
We reached his house in a moderate amount of time. Normally we would part ways here. He would go inside, and I would sprint off into the trees. So we did, but instead of leaving, I went up to his room, opening the window and seating myself on the sill inside. I was, uncharacteristically, in the mood for company.
His face registered some surprise as he came into his room. He cocked an eyebrow, but said nothing, dumping his books and his jacket onto his bed. His scarf he unwound and hung over the doorknob. I watched, blushing slightly, as he undressed, changing from his school uniform into more comfortable clothing. He wasn't the least bit self-conscious. Then again, he had no reason to be.
I watched as he unbuttoned his shirt, letting it slide down his arms and to the floor. He left it there, and turned to pick up a sweater. I let my eyes take him in, watching the fluidity of his movements. He could put such utter, seductive grace into the most ordinary of actions. My earlier thoughts of his dancer's body came back to me, and I wondered what he would look like, hair twining around his shoulders, body moving in elegant form. There would be no music. He wouldn't need music. It would take away from the beauty, the sensuality of it. I felt my cheeks burn even redder, and I was careful to duck my head for a moment, until I was sure the blush was gone.
Once I was composed, I lifted my head again. He had his back to me, and I was momentarily disappointed that the sweater covered him.
Then he slid the slacks of his uniform down, over slender hips and thighs, and I had to avert my gaze. I couldn't continue to look at his body and act nonchalant. Vaguely, I wondered if he could hear my harsh breath and rapid heartbeat. As silently as I could manage, I gulped for air, relieved when Kurama pulled a pair of jeans up and buttoned them. I watched as he stooped to pick up the discarded clothing, depositing it in a basket next to the door.
"So," he said, as he turned to face me, " it's getting colder. Will you be staying here at night?"
His question was simply asking for confirmation. I answered it as such. "As long as it will not betray either of us."
His eyes were thoughtful, and he nodded. "It should be no problem. I usually lock my door, so Shiori will not think it unusual." He curled one leg under him and sank down onto his bed. His other foot rested on the floor. Smiling, he looked at his bed. "Where would you like to sleep? I can't in all good conscience let you sleep on the floor."
I frowned. His voice was almost solicitous. "And where would you have me sleep, fox? Would you have me share your bed?" I regretted the words as soon as they came out, but did not let it show.
He didn't bother to look at me. "You had no problem last winter. My bed is more than big enough."
"Hn." I frowned. I would never let him know it, but the whole of the makai and ningenkai weren't big enough to save me from my own thoughts. And anyhow, the previous year we had been friendly. Nothing more than that. There had been no attraction between us.
I had no doubt about the fact that Kurama wanted me. Indeed, he had made a point of letting me know it. It was a game to him, though. Even after so long living as a ningen, Youko Kurama could not pass up an interesting little toy. I was sure that was all his attraction to me entailed. I was something he didn't have, and, ever the thief, he craved possession.
That was why I dared not let him know the attraction was mutual. If he discovered that and acted on it, I did not have the will, nor the desire, to deny him. In truth, I would go to him willingly, like a lamb to the slaughter.
He smiled at me then, taking my silence as agreement. It may as well have been, so I let him think it. His eyes flickered over me, and for a moment, I saw something in them. Desire, need, sultry charm, and a certain amount of vulnerability.
Standing, I removed my cloak, katana, and shoes. I stashed them next to the window in case I needed to make a quick escape, and walked toward him.
His jade eyes met mine, but he looked quickly away. I smiled. So, I unsettled him a little bit. That was all to the good, but I still couldn't let him know how I felt. I was no one's plaything, and I wouldn't let anyone make me into one. Not even an achingly beautiful, sensual, seductive kitsune.
Walking to the other side of the bed, I laid down, my hands clasped behind my head. Intent on showing him that I was not afraid of being in the same bed with him, I closed my eyes, drifting into a shallow sleep.