Disclaimer-- Yoshihiro Togashi owns Yu Yu Hakusho, not me.

Story Note: This is slightly alternate universe. "Silent and Still" takes place after the semifinals with the Uratogi team and presumably after the Toguro team fights the next day. So Yusuke gets back after the whole thing is over. Basically, the cave test is extended by about a day, and for the purposes of my story, I'm extending the period between the semifinals and the finals by quite a bit. What fun would it be if Kurama kills Karasu without enough time to fully understand his thoughts?

Author's Note: I finally finished my second chapter. It starts right where the first chapter ended, and it was so hard to write properly! Quite frankly, I don't like it at all. It's just missing something, but I'm not sure what, or even if it really is missing something. I do have the tendency to criticize everything, and it gets me in trouble some days.

Now, I'm going to be gone for a few weeks, so I won't be able to update in that time since my grandparents don't have a computer, and I'll be leaving for college three days after coming back, so I don't know when I'll next have the time to update. But it's going to get better next chapter-- hopefully!

Thank you to all my reviewers and all those who e-mailed me as well! I think I've responded to most via e-mail, but some didn't leave an address, so I didn't get the chance to send my personal thank you messages. Reading all of your wonderful comments really helped me in this chapter, considering I've had so much trouble with it!

Here's the chapter for all those who requested it!

Overcoming Chaos: Chapter Two

By Pareidolic Ink

Sequel to "Silent and Still" by Lulu White

Posted July 26, 2003

The early flushes of dawn's light filtered through the lace curtain underlying the heavy navy drapes, infusing the bedroom and conflicting with the settled blackness. The patterned, filigree mosaic of light and dark smoothly glided across the walls and floor, casting the boy's effeminate face in alternating patches of shadow, serving only to accentuate the brightness of wide, anxious eyes and the taut set of muscles around slightly parted lips. Breath flowed from the soft mouth in rapidly panted gasps, hands sporadically clenching and unclenching against slim thighs.

He was prey, a hunted animal subject to the terror of being pursued by something entirely unwanted. Or maybe only partially...

Kurama's chest heaved spasmodically as he forcefully calmed himself, shoving down the confusion that was spiraling greater with each passing moment. The knowledge of Yusuke's return brought back in full force the question of the other's feelings toward him.

And any thinking along that path naturally ended in confusion.

Kurama rose from his kneeling position, attempting to leave behind the submission that was characteristically linked with such a posture.

The minute victory of standing was immediately smashed, a choked sound fleeing his throat, the soreness of cramped thigh muscles compounding the constant, searing ache of the previous night.

How long had he been cowering?

Revulsion filled narrowed eyes-- he was weak, terrorized by physical discomfort and emotional disarray. Indeed a sad state for a creature that had once been venerated and feared as the Quicksilver Thief of Makai, boldly beautiful and impossible to hold by any demon.

And the impossible had been done. The body of Shuuichi Minamino effectively trapped the Youko power within him, a spectacularly lovely shield that was both praised and cursed by the protected fox demon.

Youko Kurama would have died without the human body. By partially merging with the human soul, his life had been saved.

At the cost of his formerly limitless energy.

The power tapped his senses, yearning to return to its master. But the human body could not channel such a force, and so it always remained, an irritating reminder of all that had been lost.

It had not been worth it...

Obvious human frailties bared by anguish obscured under the Youko's detachment from all that detracted from the goal-- it had been a wonderful fallback during his lone thieving days.

It would mask him now, perhaps subduing the volatility that people tended to resort to in times of crisis.

But how long would a Youko's deception last when poisoned by inner human caprice strengthened by growing fragility?

And what, exactly, was he attempting to achieve through all this?

His legs stiffened beneath him, straightening his posture into what might have been normal.

He could no longer define normality.

The closet doors squeaked as he pulled them open to search through the few sets of Chinese fighting clothing he had brought.

A shiver agitated his wary muscles as his eyes fell on a set frighteningly similar to what he had been wearing before.

The fabric stung his legs as Toguro tore his pants off him by brute strength.

His tunic was being pulled off over his head, fancy buttons catching several strands of red hair in a final, painful yank.

He shook away the shiver. He was so weak...

But he could not fail his mission. It was a lesson learned long ago, one that had been further fortified by Yusuke's examples. The human boy never gave up, his perseverance admirable for any life form on any world.

And he cared so much...

He had been willing to sacrifice his own life for someone he had just met.

After the battle with Touya, Yusuke would have given up everything for him. And he had so much to lose...

How could someone so selfless not touch him?

That was precisely why he must never know.

Yusuke's physical and spiritual strength was immeasurable. But he was very emotional. He cared too much.

He had paid Yusuke back for the mirror incident. But he had not yet reciprocated the rescue from Bakken.

So now, he would redirect all his energy to protect him from the devastation that such knowledge would surely wring from the boy.

That was the goal. It was all for Yusuke.

And at the same time, his guise of strength and peace would be saved in the eyes of almost everyone.

Kurama glanced at his reflection in the full-length mirror with the nonchalant eyes of the Youko, taking in the loose attire, the raw pink of scrubbed skin, and the veil of damp, wavy hair.

He looked as he always did. Perhaps that was the stem of his troubles.

Never had he imagined that a human could compare in beauty to the famous Youko. But this human was an exception.

Demons had feared the Youko for his strength, and few dared to gaze upon the wild, untamed beauty. But Shuuichi Minamino was a different story. His beauty was warm, gentle, and delicately human.

Kurama was still as beautiful as his demon form, but he did not have the immense power needed to back the attractive features. The power to protect him, to make him... untouchable.

He was defenseless. An easy victim to all that lusted after his fragile, perfect form.

And there was nothing he could do about it. After all, he did not intend to be beautiful.

It was etched in every slope of pale, creamy flesh, every flicker of light in brilliant, shimmering eyes, every fleeting movement of lean, sinewy muscle. Something as simple as a haircut would not take it away.

A fluttering sigh rolled from his throat as he gingerly stalked over to the door. Every possible course of action that may alleviate the tumult yielded an impasse.

His inattentive gaze caught a glimpse of tan through the bathroom door and the wall. His face froze, breath immediately quickening.

What should he do about Toguro's coat?

The physical remnants of the encounter had been ameliorated, but some things still remained. Dazedly, he pulled the coat down, tentatively bringing the coarse fabric to his nose. He winced at the microcosm of scents captured by the weighted fabric.

Fear. Panic. Guilt. Confusion.

Traces of everything he had felt since the previous night had soaked into the coat, leaving an agonizingly accurate timeline of the spontaneous journey through all distressed feelings known to the kitsune.

He should get rid of it.

It was never that simple.

But something had to be done. Anyone with a superior nose would immediately know that something was wrong. Not to mention that it was unique and undeniably connected to Toguro. Yusuke and Kuwabara would immediately recognize it, and Hiei would be able to sniff everything out.

It had to be hidden, although Kuwabara and Yusuke seldom ventured into his private quarters.

Hiei would often visit him in the evening, to discuss the upcoming fight or to merely ask him a question or two about humans before returning to his training. He never stayed for idle chatter, but they had formed a firm friendship as the only two demons on the team.

The volatile fire demon's rage would be ignited if he found out, and if he did indeed set out to kill Toguro and Karasu, only tragedy would ensue. Even the Black Dragon could not annihilate both of them.

Did he want to get rid of Toguro?

Besides, as a demon, he would not understand the human emotions that were currently dominating the demon instincts.

He would not understand why Kurama could not destroy the coat.

It was unexplainable.

Kurama himself could not give a definitive answer to that question. He only knew he cared too much about all the representations held by the garment.

For now, he would keep it. He could not casually toss it away, and Hiei was not one to go rummaging through closets anyway.

A settled expression of aloof calmness entered his face, bracing him for facing the malicious world.

The cooler air of the corridor blasted against his tender skin, refreshing after the stuffy room.

Anticipation constricted Kurama's chest even as his face remained motionless. He had missed the firm determination and profound belief in the team during Yusuke's absence.

He knocked on the suite door, the sharp sound usurping any bracing done for the encounter.

What if Yusuke suspected something?

The Spirit Detective was notoriously thickheaded much of the time, but startlingly perceptive in rare situations. On a subconscious level, he read personalities and intentions surprisingly well.

It was one of the many traits that made him such a strong combatant. Knowing an opponent's personality aided in predicting his actions, and also decided the approach taken to a fight.

But since it was all subconscious, Yusuke could not call on the knowledge to aid him. It came to him during odd moments in the fight, explaining the random flashes of brilliance and strategy he uncharacteristically displayed.

Kurama's teeth scraped his lower lip uneasily, trying to assure himself that he was overestimating the boy. No one knew him that well.

It was never wise to overestimate someone. Unfortunately, it was never quite wise to underestimate someone either, and Yusuke had an uncanny knack for shocking everyone with his skill

The thick sound of the door pulling unstuck immediately tilted his down-turned head to meet the warm chocolate gaze.

"Hey Kurama!" The redhead felt his deep breath expand his rib cage before he stepped inside warily, schooling his features into a gentle expression before studying Yusuke.

Ebony strands clung damply to lightly tanned skin, stray droplets escaped from the towel that was attempting to eliminate them forming wet trails down his shoulder and spidering across his bare torso to soak into the already wet waistband of his jeans. The heavy fabric molded even more snugly than usual...

Yusuke was watching him.

Kurama looked up slowly, hoping that the down-swept bangs had hidden the path of his gaze, thankful that the slight flush was hardly noticeable against his scrub-reddened cheeks, before searching the dark eyes for any hint of what the other felt.

Above all, that was most important.

Contentment, satisfaction, and the slightest hint of something more substantial that disappeared when Kurama stolidly stared back.

But there was none of the wantonness that he had expected to see if Karasu's claims had any foundation. The smoldering passion that Yusuke was supposed to have was markedly absent, and someone as open and hot-blooded surely could not hide such a thing, could he?

"...and I was in the shower when you knocked."

That much was obvious. What had Yusuke been saying?

He nodded his head lightly, partially wishing that some part of him had registered the constant stream of words during his distraction.

"I need a shirt," Yusuke muttered before exiting the room, calling back, "and then we'll get some food!"

Kurama blinked slowly, utterly confounded. It seemed he had missed the majority of the conversation.

Did it really matter?

Should he be relieved or disappointed that Yusuke apparently did not care like Sakyo had been led to believe?

A loud shout from the other room pushed him from his puzzlement, Yusuke yelling at Kuwabara about something inane and, more than likely, ridiculous.

He was being ridiculous. Scientific reasoning, and even basic logic, deemed that a two-minute encounter with someone was not enough to read emotions, regardless of perceptiveness.

What had happened to the Youko detachment?

It had relented its grip as soon as it encountered friendly eyes and a welcoming grin.

Yusuke had been a friend and ally since their first meeting.

What did the redhead want from him now?

Kurama sighed desolately, shifting against the annoyingly cushy sofa, his hands rising to stroke through his hair as he blanked his mind to everything related to the slim-hipped Detective.

He wanted-- no, needed-- to be touched.

Nimble hands slid down, running a slight caress along his throat in an effort to calm himself.

Toguro's moan vibrated across the taut column of neck joining throat...

A clumsy shudder tripped down his lower back.

Yusuke's fingertips grazed across his throat, the towel soon following the shimmering trails of water.

Tactile sensations honed to acute precision, images melding and shifting into a colored frenzy of half-recalled memories and insane little desires.

His fingers ghosted over his neck, lifting up the thick mane so the uneven tips tickled against heated, sensitive flesh.

Only an involuntary fluttering of thick lashes and the rush of air over parted lips betrayed his reaction.

The door to the boys' bedroom creaked.

Kurama yanked his hands away from himself, staring at them with disbelief and fury.

What would Yusuke think if he had seen the fulfillment that had slowly been creeping onto the fox's face?

Was he turning into a depraved monstrosity?

His face softened into a dismayed frown. The touches were not meant to be arousing...

They had not elicited any such response from him...

Then why was his skin hot, his body sensitized and shaking?

What exactly was he desiring?

Only to know that there was someone to help when he could not bear to face the world...

It was impossible.

And the knowledge that he could not have it in combination with the brief respite found in his own soothing touches had flustered him to that extent?

Shifting uncomfortably, teeth grated against the yielding softness of his lips once again as he tightly clasped his hands and lowered his head, struggling to regain the state of mind that allowed him to calmly view a situation.

It made sense.

It was horrifying.

He was a comfort-seeking semi-hedonistic animal. Over someone whose feelings were still debatable.

Indeed a very sorry situation.

Kurama sensed the energies a moment before they entered as he mutely rose to accompany them, eliminating the traces of the conflict that lined his face before forcing a smile.

"Come on, we'll be lucky if there's anything left for us!" Yusuke ushered all of them out into the hall before slamming the door shut.

"Now, Kurama, you've gotta tell me what happened!"

Kurama froze in the middle of the corridor, eyes luminously wide in fright, hands fisting in his clothes.

How in the worlds did Yusuke find out?

The casualness with which Yusuke treated it hurt him more than a sword through the stomach. Yusuke was such a tender, compassionate person underneath the crude exterior... Did he truly believe the redhead needed nobody and was totally self-sufficient?

He had thought Yusuke would care.

"Yusuke..." Kurama started, thoughts a gelatinous mass now that logic and reason had flown the coop.

He knew-- it played repetitively in his head-- he knew, he knew.

The dark-haired fighter turned back to look at him, bewilderment and anger evident in the set of large eyes and the slightly pouted mouth.

"Damn..." Yusuke ground out through clenched teeth before stalking back. "Won't anyone tell me about the semifinals? He won't," he complained with a jerk of the head towards Kuwabara, who was oddly silent, "and now you won't... I know we won, otherwise we'd all be dead, but what the hell's so bad that neither of you want to talk about it?"

The semifinals?

Yusuke had been talking about the Tournament the whole time?

A tiny, relieved laugh, almost effervescent in its qualities, bubbled up in his throat, welcome after the anxiety that had skyrocketed moments ago.

Yusuke continued to glare at Kurama, any fury waning at the soft laughter, momentarily replaced by confusion before calming into a sheepish grin.

The raven-haired boy mussed his hair with a sideways glance to Kurama. "I guess I got carried away, ranting over something that's already done, but damnit, I've been gone for a while, and I'm the fucking team captain! I'm supposed to know!"

Kurama's lips quirked into a tiny grin. "Don't worry, I have no qualms about telling you. Nothing went drastically wrong, and we did eventually win."

"Then why do you?" Yusuke directed the question to the sulking Kuwabara, accompanying it with a shove.

"Maybe because he lost?" Kurama offered.

Yusuke scowled at Kuwabara again. "But you weren't like this after you lost the fight in the first round..."

"Twice," Kurama amended, watching the taller boy's face mottle with embarrassment.

"I see," he said with a smirk, turning to Kuwabara. "You're moping. How the hell did you lose two battles in one round?"

Kurama ignored the childish name-calling antics that ensued, his tortured body falling behind, disagreeing with the mental insistence that he walk with the same lengthy, graceful stride that he always used.

The reception area of the hotel was lovely, the curved glass roof allowing the sunlight to bathe the breakfast buffet area with a muted glow.

A shiver seized his back as numerous eyes fixed on them, coolly assessing the Dark Tournament's finalists. His other two teammates were unaware of the murmurs that echoed through the few spectators and former teams that had risen early. He was not so blissfully lucky.

Other demons looked only at him, lust evident in the hungry stares that traveled down his body, following the elegantly angular facial features, the smooth slope of chest tapering to a small waist, the dainty swell of hips flowing through to lean, muscled legs and finely turned feet.

The redhead cringed away. Their stares penetrated the safety found in the other two's company, leaving him vulnerable and exposed.

As he had been left the prior night.

Glistening green eyes raced, panicking at the lust that surrounded him, cloying in its abundance. They wanted him. They wanted to have the delicate figure surrender to them, his life in their hands as they used him to satisfy their fantasies.

Imperceptibly, the willowy figure of the fox inched closer to the two boys who were still exchanging insults, seeking their physical presence as the mental barriers fractured under the malicious desires to weaken him, take away his spirit, and leave him in splinters.

A large, grotesque demon seated at the bar drunkenly watched the small group pass, wantonly regarding the redhead before stumbling out of his seat.

Scaly, clawed hands reached for the silk-clad arms of the kitsune. He avoided it instinctively, but his movements were arrested by the lusty overtones as soon as he saw the face...

Violet, lust-filled eyes distorted to his vision by tears advanced towards him, silkily smug threats forcing him into sobbing submission.

His gaze averted as the demon advanced, unable to move as his feet were rooted to the ground by memories.

Enraged chocolate eyes stared at him before he felt the warm grip on his arm and he was tugged away.

"Damn you!" Yusuke spat angrily before punching the drunken creature unconscious.

His breathing evened out. What would have happened if Yusuke had not been there?

He silently thanked Yusuke, knowing everything was lost if he failed to explain his way out of this one. Kurama's arm pulsed where the surprisingly large hand encircled his wrist as Yusuke forcefully steered him past the mostly empty booths to a large corner table.

Kurama stumbled into the chair across from Kuwabara, head snapping backward to meet the accusing glare. The furor had given his eyes a reddish tint, making them a luminescent shade of mahogany embossed with an amber overtone.

"Okay, Kurama, what's going on? I mean, you could have gotten rid of that thing with one hit, but you froze. Why?" His voice was curiously strained, immediately drawing Kurama's search for something that would divulge anything more than friendship.

It was uncertain, the blend of barely-muted rage and worry completely dominating.

Scarlet bangs hid his eyes as he searched for a plausible excuse. Something simple that Yusuke would accept.

A weary, yet bright smile curved his lips, his head rising to meet Yusuke. "I was up late last night, rethinking my strategies after seeing them fight yesterday, and I was feeling a bit unwell this morning. I was dizzy when he came up to me-- I barely even saw him."

Yusuke's scrutinizing gaze swept over the innocent tilt of his face, looking unconvinced.

Kurama further widened his eyes, magnifying the innocence, hoping that it masked the pleading desperation. He did not like to lie, but situations often called for a pinch of devious behavior. This one always worked on his mother...

The other boy seemed to reluctantly accept the explanation. "So that's why you weren't up at the crack of dawn training with Hiei," he muttered, the anger thankfully dissipating. "Will you be okay?" Worry-- about him-- glittered in the depths of the dark eyes, and Kuwabara echoed the sentiment, suggesting that he retire to bed.

Yusuke really did have passionate eyes, open to display all his emotions from anger to caring. So straightforward...

Unlike him. Out of habit, Kurama suppressed the twinge of guilt. He had to lie so much to people who really cared about him... his mother, and now the rest of the Reikai Tantei.

"I'll be fine. Besides, I can't afford to waste time because of a silly illness. I need the training."

The redhead tossed back his hair, rising to his feet stiffly, hands inconspicuously clenching. Yusuke had practically thrown him into the chair in his distressed anger, and now the already abused nerves were further fussing over being suddenly slammed against a hard surface.

Yusuke really had no conception of his own strength when he was emotional.

"True," Yusuke said, "but there's still time before the finals. Remember, you owe me a nice, long description of the semifinals when I get back. I can't think without food!"

Kuwabara shrugged before taking off at the heels of the other.

A tiny smile touched his lips as he followed, quickly returning with only a cup of jasmine green tea.

Seating himself slowly, he took a small sip, the jasmine scent working its relaxing charm, allowing him to focus on something beside the present mess

Dark foliage surrounded the entire courtyard, tree limbs extending to the glowing sunlight in a symbol of deference. Clusters of flowers created splotches of color pleasing to the eye. He reached out to graze one of the flowering bushes, a pleased sound murmured when the Fuchsia flowers entwined with his hand before he withdrew.

The silence was splintered by his two companion's return to the table, laden with huge piles of food. The aroma twisted his stomach.

Bitter salt filled Kurama's mouth and throat and he was forced to swallow frantically...

The tea sloshed as it was quickly brought to his mouth, the rapid action drawing Yusuke's attention. The salty taste was easily recalled, causing a muffled choke against the teacup.

"You all right, Kurama? You looked like you were choking," said the Spirit Detective, his voice warped by the huge amount of greasy sausages stuffed into his mouth.

"I'm fine," the redhead said softly, before abruptly starting his narrative of the semifinals, barely audible among the loud conversations.

Changing the subject was always a viable way to avoid something.

A hush draped the room suddenly, attracting the stares of most creatures after the memorable display during the Toguro team semifinals.

The narrow, smug face of the demon searched across the area, smirking upon finding the treasure he had claimed.

The mask shifted into place, weak after the agitation that had constantly been nibbling at him since rising. Kurama found his emotionless front devoured by the hungry look in the planes of that face, leaving only hatred and the urge to curl fetally and whimper like a beaten beast.

He tore away from that never blinking gaze, staring down at the steaming teacup.

Karasu never even wavered.

The fox demon was unable to prevent himself from looking up when a table close to theirs squeaked. Thankfully, Kuwabara and Yusuke were too occupied with discussing the Toguro team to notice his reaction

The enormity of large eyes rendered Kurama's face waif-like. Hatred, fear, disgust, horror, and a multitude of others shone forth from the emerald depths.

And then he saw the lavender sash carelessly thrown around the crow's neck.

The same lavender sash that had been around his waist the previous night.

Karasu smirked at the recognition in Kurama's face.

Horror spread through Kurama's system. They had the torn clothes from yesterday.

They had physical proof.

Trembling hands brought the teacup to his lips in a conscious effort to calm himself and ignore the other demon.

Long fingers stroked through the sash, dragging his lips across the silkiness in a conspicuously sensual gesture, hoping to further play with the boy.

His hands shook again. The teacup fell onto Yusuke's lap, burning him. The boy immediately jumped up with a string of curses, knocking the table over onto Kuwabara, who was soon loaded with sausages, eggs, and almost every other breakfast good.

Kurama's small form filled with mirth almost hysterically, eyes glimmering with laughter as the two of them fled.

The hysterics ceased when he sensed the wanton gaze on his head.

He was alone.

The demon quickly rose from the chair, stroking the sash like a pet as he glided towards Kurama.

Kurama cringed away, fearing the demon, and knowing that he was almost powerless.

The beautiful crow just walked past him and out of the breakfast area as Kurama looked on in disbelief.

Karasu hadn't done anything? Why?

And he noted the small sheet of paper in his hand that had suddenly appeared.

Meet me tonight- 11 PM, Courtyard. Alone. Or Urameshi finds out.

---

That's it for the second chapter. I haven't slept in the past three days because I wanted to finish it before I left, so I apologize for any grammatical or spelling errors. I'll probably fix them either today or when I get back.

Please Review! I want to know what all of you think of this chapter since I don't think it's very good. And that's annoying, considering the amount of time it took to write.