Okay, minna-san. You might find a few things that don't quite fit with the
way characters are, but . . . It's my ficcie, and I can do what I want with
it! So there!
*L*
Seriously, though, these guys aren't mine. I lay no claim to them.
Midnyte-fox
* * * * *
Kurama's POV
I walked blindly, tears blurring my vision. He didn't trust me, thought that I didn't care. I stumbled, catching myself against the wall. I looked toward the hall bathroom, saw that it was empty, and went there.
Closing the door, I sank to my knees, gulping for air. I was shaking badly, overcome with pain.
How could he think so little of me?
Feeling the pain renew itself, I buried my face in my hands, sobbing silently. After a few moments, even that was beyond me, and all I could do was stare at my palms. I traced the lines that crossed them with my eyes. I remembered, then, when Suuichi was in elementary school. A fortune-teller at a carnival had told me that my life would be full of hard work. She had been a young woman, dressed up as a stereotype, with a turban and multiple shawls. Bangles had covered her wrists, and her laughing brown eyes had held merriment. I had smiled at her, thanked her, as my mother watched on, amused. I hadn't really cared, then, what the woman had said. But it made Shiori smile, so it was well worth it.
I looked up then, peering bleary-eyed around the bathroom. Sighing, I pulled myself to my feet. I couldn't stay locked in the bathroom forever. Reaching over to the sink, I turned the faucet on, then stood in front of the mirror. My eyes were red. Shiori would know I had been crying.
Cupping my hands under the running water, I let them fill. Then I bent down, splashed my face with the cool, clear liquid. I sputtered a little at the shock of it, but placed my hands beneath the spout again.
When I finished, I dried my face and hands on a towel. Then I grabbed one of the shirts that lay in the laundry basket. It was reasonably clean, having only been worn to dinner with my mother. I buttoned it on quickly. Finally, I took a deep breath, and opened the door. Not glancing at my bedroom, I headed immediately down the stairs.
I went into the kitchen and looked around. There were no chores to be done. Nothing to keep myself occupied with. Resigned, I sat down at the table, ready to confront my thoughts.
The door opened.
"Suuichi? Are you home?"
I sighed in relief. "Yes, Mother! In the kitchen!" I stood up, starting for the front room. Shiori was standing in the doorway, arms loaded with bags. I stepped down into the entryway and took them from her. She smiled at me gratefully.
Slipping off her shoes, she watched me walk into the kitchen. I went to the table and set the bags down before putting the groceries away.
As I weighed the options of how to fit both the ice cream and the ice cubes in the freezer, she walked by me, giving my shoulders a quick squeeze. "You're such a good son, Suuichi. I could never have asked for better."
I closed my eyes momentarily as guilt loomed in my mind. I hated when she said that. It was the least I could do, having done what I had.
After putting the groceries away, I helped make dinner. Nothing too complicated, just meat and vegetables over rice. After we ate, I grabbed a small bowl of ice cream and headed up to my room.
I was almost afraid he would be there, but he wasn't. I closed the door and stepped inside. Then I glanced at my bed, and nearly dropped the bowl I carried.
Cautiously, I set the ice cream down on the stand next to my bed. Then I looked down at my pillow.
There, nestled among a fold of my blanket, was a single rose, three shining gems resting next to the stem.
Picking up the rose, I inhaled its heady fragrance. Then I sat, scooping up the little spheres. At first glance, they appeared to be onyx. Then I noticed that they were a deep, dark red, like enough to black, but not quite. But, where . . .
Hiei.
Hiei's tears.
It must have been an apology. Shaking, I stood, crossed to the window. The rain pelted everything in it's path. It was completely dark, now. It got dark early in the winter. Looking at the clock, I realized it was only eight o'clock. It seemed so much later.
After staring into the night for awhile, it dawned on me that he wouldn't come back here tonight. But where would he be?
I closed the window most of the way and went to my desk, picking up the phone. Quickly, I dialed a number.
"Moshi-moshi."
I took a breath. "Yusuke?"
"Yeah?" His voice was slightly annoyed.
"It's Kurama."
"Oh!" His tone brightened a little. "Hi, Kurama. What can I do for ya?"
I clenched my free hand in my shirt. "Have you seen Hiei?"
"Hm? Hiei? No, not today. He's not with you? I figured . . ." His voice trailed off.
"Figured what?"
"Nothing. No, I haven't seen him. If I do, I'll let you know."
I frowned, worried. "Thanks. Call me if you see him, will you? I don't care how late it is."
Just as Yusuke agreed, I heard a soft step behind me.
"That won't be necessary." The voice was low and melodic, familiar, yet without the harsh strain I was used to. I whirled.
Hiei was drenched, his clothing dripping onto the carpet. I murmured an absent goodbye to Yusuke and hung up the phone.
"Hiei, I . . ." I stared at him, at a loss for words.
He merely looked at me, eyes unreadable. His voice was soft when he spoke. "Got anything dry?"
I blinked at him and nodded. I wasn't sure how to react. I was still hurting inside, but I was so happy to see him safe, that I ignored it. And the apology he'd left was still there, in my hand. The rose had not been stripped of it's thorns, and I felt them pierce my skin slightly. It didn't matter.
Crossing my room, I went into the bathroom and grabbed a towel. I handed them to him as he stripped. As he dried himself, I went to my dresser and pulled out a shirt and sweatpants. The shirt was too small for me, and fit him decently, but the pants were still baggy and had to be tied tightly around his waist.
I went to hang his clothes in the bathroom to drip dry, and locked my door afterward. When I turned back to him, he was standing in the middle of my room, looking rather sheepish. I hid a smile. It was kind of amusing. His eyes very carefully did not meet mine, and his cheeks were tinged faintly pink. Embarrassment.
I looked at him calmly and sat on the edge of my bed, waiting.
*L*
Seriously, though, these guys aren't mine. I lay no claim to them.
Midnyte-fox
* * * * *
Kurama's POV
I walked blindly, tears blurring my vision. He didn't trust me, thought that I didn't care. I stumbled, catching myself against the wall. I looked toward the hall bathroom, saw that it was empty, and went there.
Closing the door, I sank to my knees, gulping for air. I was shaking badly, overcome with pain.
How could he think so little of me?
Feeling the pain renew itself, I buried my face in my hands, sobbing silently. After a few moments, even that was beyond me, and all I could do was stare at my palms. I traced the lines that crossed them with my eyes. I remembered, then, when Suuichi was in elementary school. A fortune-teller at a carnival had told me that my life would be full of hard work. She had been a young woman, dressed up as a stereotype, with a turban and multiple shawls. Bangles had covered her wrists, and her laughing brown eyes had held merriment. I had smiled at her, thanked her, as my mother watched on, amused. I hadn't really cared, then, what the woman had said. But it made Shiori smile, so it was well worth it.
I looked up then, peering bleary-eyed around the bathroom. Sighing, I pulled myself to my feet. I couldn't stay locked in the bathroom forever. Reaching over to the sink, I turned the faucet on, then stood in front of the mirror. My eyes were red. Shiori would know I had been crying.
Cupping my hands under the running water, I let them fill. Then I bent down, splashed my face with the cool, clear liquid. I sputtered a little at the shock of it, but placed my hands beneath the spout again.
When I finished, I dried my face and hands on a towel. Then I grabbed one of the shirts that lay in the laundry basket. It was reasonably clean, having only been worn to dinner with my mother. I buttoned it on quickly. Finally, I took a deep breath, and opened the door. Not glancing at my bedroom, I headed immediately down the stairs.
I went into the kitchen and looked around. There were no chores to be done. Nothing to keep myself occupied with. Resigned, I sat down at the table, ready to confront my thoughts.
The door opened.
"Suuichi? Are you home?"
I sighed in relief. "Yes, Mother! In the kitchen!" I stood up, starting for the front room. Shiori was standing in the doorway, arms loaded with bags. I stepped down into the entryway and took them from her. She smiled at me gratefully.
Slipping off her shoes, she watched me walk into the kitchen. I went to the table and set the bags down before putting the groceries away.
As I weighed the options of how to fit both the ice cream and the ice cubes in the freezer, she walked by me, giving my shoulders a quick squeeze. "You're such a good son, Suuichi. I could never have asked for better."
I closed my eyes momentarily as guilt loomed in my mind. I hated when she said that. It was the least I could do, having done what I had.
After putting the groceries away, I helped make dinner. Nothing too complicated, just meat and vegetables over rice. After we ate, I grabbed a small bowl of ice cream and headed up to my room.
I was almost afraid he would be there, but he wasn't. I closed the door and stepped inside. Then I glanced at my bed, and nearly dropped the bowl I carried.
Cautiously, I set the ice cream down on the stand next to my bed. Then I looked down at my pillow.
There, nestled among a fold of my blanket, was a single rose, three shining gems resting next to the stem.
Picking up the rose, I inhaled its heady fragrance. Then I sat, scooping up the little spheres. At first glance, they appeared to be onyx. Then I noticed that they were a deep, dark red, like enough to black, but not quite. But, where . . .
Hiei.
Hiei's tears.
It must have been an apology. Shaking, I stood, crossed to the window. The rain pelted everything in it's path. It was completely dark, now. It got dark early in the winter. Looking at the clock, I realized it was only eight o'clock. It seemed so much later.
After staring into the night for awhile, it dawned on me that he wouldn't come back here tonight. But where would he be?
I closed the window most of the way and went to my desk, picking up the phone. Quickly, I dialed a number.
"Moshi-moshi."
I took a breath. "Yusuke?"
"Yeah?" His voice was slightly annoyed.
"It's Kurama."
"Oh!" His tone brightened a little. "Hi, Kurama. What can I do for ya?"
I clenched my free hand in my shirt. "Have you seen Hiei?"
"Hm? Hiei? No, not today. He's not with you? I figured . . ." His voice trailed off.
"Figured what?"
"Nothing. No, I haven't seen him. If I do, I'll let you know."
I frowned, worried. "Thanks. Call me if you see him, will you? I don't care how late it is."
Just as Yusuke agreed, I heard a soft step behind me.
"That won't be necessary." The voice was low and melodic, familiar, yet without the harsh strain I was used to. I whirled.
Hiei was drenched, his clothing dripping onto the carpet. I murmured an absent goodbye to Yusuke and hung up the phone.
"Hiei, I . . ." I stared at him, at a loss for words.
He merely looked at me, eyes unreadable. His voice was soft when he spoke. "Got anything dry?"
I blinked at him and nodded. I wasn't sure how to react. I was still hurting inside, but I was so happy to see him safe, that I ignored it. And the apology he'd left was still there, in my hand. The rose had not been stripped of it's thorns, and I felt them pierce my skin slightly. It didn't matter.
Crossing my room, I went into the bathroom and grabbed a towel. I handed them to him as he stripped. As he dried himself, I went to my dresser and pulled out a shirt and sweatpants. The shirt was too small for me, and fit him decently, but the pants were still baggy and had to be tied tightly around his waist.
I went to hang his clothes in the bathroom to drip dry, and locked my door afterward. When I turned back to him, he was standing in the middle of my room, looking rather sheepish. I hid a smile. It was kind of amusing. His eyes very carefully did not meet mine, and his cheeks were tinged faintly pink. Embarrassment.
I looked at him calmly and sat on the edge of my bed, waiting.