Swing
Part three
By Funara
The blushing ochre sun, set against its background of titian sky, threw the trees in the park into a deeper shadow, sharpening the contrast between their dark boughs and the cheerful yellow of the playground. Shadows, long and ridiculously out of proportion, crisscrossed and melded together, not caring to which stationary caster they belonged. Their movement was as slow and as imperceptible as the descent of the sun they followed.
Abruptly, a figure darted from the seemingly black foliage to leap lightly to the branch of the adjacent tree, continuing in this fashion from tree to tree. Hiei had decided to take his time and not waste his energy on speed—after all, Kurama seemed in no hurry to move from his current location. The fire demon paused for a moment. There were only a few trees between him and the playground, and without having to cast his senses, he could feel the strong pulse of Kurama's aura.
The last trees were bypassed easily, and Hiei installed himself in a particularly leafy one just bordering on the playground, several yards from the swing sets. There was a convenient space between the leaves, giving Hiei enough room to properly see the figure seated on one of the middle swings. As usual, his black attire afforded him the luxury of seeing without being seen, especially given his position.
The half-koorime raked the kitsune over with his eyes, unconsciously checking for injuries as he had done so many times in the past. His subconscious and sense of routine satisfied, he examined the fox more leisurely. With all the shadows and signs of impending twilight, it was a bit difficult to clearly make out Kurama, but the youkai's eyes had no trouble adjusting, and he could see Kurama quite well despite the lack of light.
It had been three or four years since he had last laid eyes on the half-youko, but he seemed to have changed very little. He had made the transition from boy to young man, though, and it showed. Although Hiei doubted that any amount of ningen training could bring about the same results as the strenuous fights in the Makai, it was clear that Kurama's training had wrought some changes in his body. His shoulders were broader and more muscular, and his form slightly leaner, the effect only emphasizing the kitsune's ever-present beauty. Hiei had the back view, but from the familiar waves of rich scarlet hair, he doubted that Kurama's face had changed. Still flawless and still provoking an aching in his chest like nothing else could.
A caressing zephyr rustled the leaves around Hiei and ruffled the tresses he had been admiring. Respectively. Hiei was upwind of Kurama, and the breeze would blow his scent towards the fox. Hiei sat motionless, waiting for Kurama to make the first move. He hasn't noticed my presence. He's getting soft. Let's see if that fox nose of his is as effective in this form.
Kurama stared unwaveringly at the forest ten yards in front of him and had been doing so for some time now. His gaze as well as his thoughts were distant. While he didn't seem to be paying attention, his instincts were fully alert, ensuring that danger would be recognized and proper precautions taken. The softly blowing wind brought no unknown scents, and Kurama unconsciously inhaled and identified each one. Strangely, among the scents of rotting wood and wet plants, there was a pleasant smell of tropical plants, mixed in with an enticing musk. It reminded him of the Makai and consequently, the little fire youkai that was currently residing there. In his languid state, the thought took several seconds to diffuse through Kurama's brain. However, when it registered, Kurama abruptly leaped from the swing and turned to face the thicket behind him, one hand instinctively going to his hair to pull out his trademark rose, quickly growing it into his favorite weapon. Tropical plants did not grow in Tokyo, but they did grow in Makai.
Kurama narrowed his eyes, searching for the hidden demon. I can't sense any youki. He must've shielded it. Kurama expanded his awareness to include the trees and plants nearest him, searching for the exact location of the foreign presence in their midst. The flora responded enthusiastically, telling him in their soundless language that the stranger was concealed near the trunk of the early bloomer in the front—the one that had soaked up all the sunshine and nutrients for itself and had sprouted leaves before the others. Kurama touched the aura of the tree in question, asking it to do a favor for him.
Hiei knew that Kurama had sensed his presence and was bound to find his hiding place soon, but he was completely unprepared when all the leaves on the tree suddenly retracted into their branches, effectively exposing the fire demon. Hiei cursed and jumped to the ground. Above him, the tree immediately re-grew all its leaves.
Kurama stared at the fire demon, who glared at him and folded his arms. Kurama's eyes widened, and he dropped his defensive stance. For a moment, he was speechless. "Hiei!" he exclaimed. "You're back!"
Hiei's expression didn't change as he walked towards the swing, stopping to face his best friend, who was standing on the opposite side of the swing. "Hn. Any fool with eyes could see that, baka."
Kurama smiled, really smiled, for the first time in months. After years of dreaming and grasping at memories, it was wonderful to actually see the fire demon and hear his deep voice, even if it expressed the contemptuous disdain he had always held for most beings. As Kurama walked around to Hiei's side of the swing, smile lingering, Hiei took a step backwards to allow Kurama room to stand in front of the swing. Instead, Kurama settled down on the swing itself, his eyes almost level with Hiei's.
A silence followed, during which Hiei, as always, waited for Kurama to start the conversation, and Kurama searched for a proper icebreaker. He had a dozen and more questions to ask, but the uncertainty of which one to ask first and whether his generally reticent friend would actually answer them weren't the only things holding him back.
Hiei was standing only a few inches from Kurama's knees. In other words, too close. Kurama had been vaguely surprised and pleased to see that Hiei had put less than the usual amount of distance between them, an action contrary to the fire demon's usual habit of staying away from others. This had fit well with Kurama's desire to be near Hiei, especially after such a long period of separation. Now, however, he was feeling the full impact of this favorable position, and trying to swallow his desire. He could acutely smell the scent from before—Hiei's scent, mixed with those of the Makai. The proximity allowed him to see the outline of the Jaganshi's muscular build beneath his cloak, and when he tilted his head up, vermillion orbs watched him expressionlessly.
The fox took a deep, silent breath and looked at the ground just behind Hiei. A distraction that let him clear his mind would be nice. Hiei did not bother to turn around, knowing there was nothing of great import behind him and choosing instead to study Kurama's features. He knew the fox's immediate enthusiasm had been dampened slightly by a forced measure of self control. It was his fault that they were so close, but he'd originally planned to do so to assert his control over the situation. Now though, he was beginning to regret his decision. He'd intended to play the game as they always had, with the fox as pursuer and he as the pursued; it was a familiar routine, and he was not required to be forward, which he disliked being. Hiei watched Kurama determinedly avoid eye contact and silently waited for him to say something. He continued watching him and unconsciously, as though he were fighting and needed to calculate if an attack were executable, judged the distance between them. If he just stretched out his hand, he could touch the soft red hair or the—he cut off that thought before it could progress, unsettled at how naturally it had occurred to him.
Hiei looked beyond the swing to the ground immediately behind it and noticed something odd. There should have been fresh marks in the mud if Kurama had been swinging, but the mire only contained faint imprints that were slowly being filled with fresh mud. The kitsune was wet, though, so he'd been here when it'd rained. How long had he sat there, motionless?
On an impulse, Hiei walked around to the swing to face Kurama's back. The fox in question blinked and used his feet (which were already resting on the ground) to twist, the swing turning with him. "What are you doing?"
Hiei gently pushed the fox forward, and the swing swung forward as well. "Turn around. You're twisting the swing." And indeed, the swing was twisting in an ungainly manner, its balance upset by the fact that its rider was facing backwards.
Kurama did not turn around. "Hiei? Why are you…pushing me?" he asked hesitantly.
Stubborn fox. The youkai pushed him again, a little harder this time. "That's what these things are used for, aren't they?' he grumbled, continuing to push.
The redhead looked surprised, but he folded and turned around. "Yes…that's what swings are used for."
Silence reigned for a few minutes as the swing swung back and forth, causing Hiei to back up. The longer he pushed, the more relaxed Kurama became. He'd been tense and stiff before, uncomfortable, but soon, he loosened up and swung his legs, building up momentum. Still, even with their combined efforts, neither of them invested much effort in the task, and the swing only reached Hiei's chest before beginning its downward descent.
Kurama spoke first. "Why did you come back? Shouldn't you be celebrating the Vernal Equinox at Mukuro's fortress?"
He didn't forget. "Mukuro gave me a few days off."
"Didn't want to join in the fun and festivities, did you?" He'd divined the reason immediately. Hiei didn't bother to affirm.
The next question was asked with far less casualness and far more carefully than the last. "And your position with Mukuro?"
Hiei considered his response. It was obvious that the fox didn't like Mukuro; he'd seen as much when he'd informed him that he was going to be Mukuro's heir, and the signs were present now. He settled for the truth. He didn't like the job, but he didn't not like it, it just was…"It's not what I thought it was."
"…"
"…"
"And yet you continued to work for her."
The Jaganshi didn't reply. He himself wasn't sure why he'd stayed. Part of it was because he'd wanted the kind of power the position could give. Part of it was because by giving up the position, he'd appear to be a weak, idiotic quitter, one who did not have the brain capacity to comprehend what he was sacrificing. Part of it was because if he'd left, he'd probably have made an enemy out of Mukuro, something he definitely didn't want. Part of it was because if he gave up the position, he would have to return to the Ningenkai in shame since wandering the Makai with Mukuro's rage trailing him would be out of the question. Strangely enough, part of it was because he'd felt he had nowhere else to go; after leaving the Ningenkai, he felt as though he had permanently severed his ties there and was no longer welcome, if he'd ever been welcome at all. Of course, these weren't the only reasons. There were many more tangled up together, most of them so jumbled and puzzling that Hiei didn't even want to try to understand them.
Kurama hadn't really expected an answer, but not receiving one still annoyed him, because this subject was something he honestly didn't understand about Hiei. And it didn't look like he was going to get an answer anytime soon either. Hiei's hands still pushed at his back in a regular rhythm, but he wasn't pushing as carefully as before and sometimes forgot to push at all. Lost in his own thoughts. At least he trusts me not to attack him. The thought was ironic. He'd spent so much time trying to get Hiei to trust him, and now, he was feeling grateful for a "trust" that a drunken youkai would show his bartender.
As the fire youkai continued to ponder, Kurama was growing more and more frustrated. He hadn't meant to bring up the subject of Hiei's position at all, but the thought had been chafing at him for some time. In fact, he'd consciously decided that if they hit on the subject, he would only ask empty, shallow questions that he already knew the answers to. He'd had his own theories, of course. As far as he'd seen, Hiei was an independent, preferring to make and carry out plans by himself. He wasn't one to willingly serve another without an ulterior motive, and even then, only for a short amount of time. The ulterior motive had been obvious, but the half-koorime had stayed for much longer than he'd anticipated. Longer than I'd hoped. I thought his pride would get the better of him, and he'd leave.
Then again, maybe it was that very pride that prevented his friend from leaving. His gruff friend never backed out of anything unless it was absolutely necessary. And in this case, sacrificing such a coveted position would be akin to completing the successful thievery of an Orb of Power and then letting it collect dust. To do so would earn certain scorn, no matter how justified the action. Kurama sighed softly. Even if he did give up the job, he probably wouldn't have come back to Ningenkai. The Makai is his home, as he so often reminds me. Still…
The fox decided that the only way he was going to get any sort of response out of Hiei or to take up the threads of their conversation again was to pretend as though the fire demon had answered the question and skip to the next logical topic. The half-youko took a deep breath. The "next logical topic" was one that he knew Hiei probably didn't want to talk about, but he had to ask—it was another thing he had to clear up with the dark demon. He closed his eyes and spoke.
"Why didn't you come back to visit, Hiei?"
Silence. Not even an "I was too busy". Not that Kurama'd expected Hiei to make transparent excuses. At least he could feel his friend watching him, which meant he was also listening.
"Nobody kicked you out of the Ningenkai, Hiei, or said that you couldn't come back. You left of your own volition. Were you so busy that you couldn't take one day, or even a few hours off to see us? To at least acknowledge that we still existed? Not once in three years?"
Kurama was dimly aware that this was not he had meant to phrase the question, but his mouth seemed to move of its own, spilling all the angry, impulsive thoughts that had crossed his mind in those three long years. Hiei didn't make a sound.
"Maybe you didn't care about us, but we cared about you, Hiei. I've seen the others many times since you left, and in the beginning, they did ask about you. Had I received word from you? About what you were doing, how you were in general? But I had nothing to offer them, and the questions stopped after a while.
"Not all of them, though. Do you remember who you left behind in the Ningenkai, Hiei? The one you swore to protect? She hasn't forgotten; she asks me about you every time I visit Genkai's temple." Kurama turned his head back as far as he could without upsetting the swing. "Yukina still cares, Hiei, regardless of whether you do."
He studied the small face of the youkai behind him, searching for a clue, a flicker of feeling. Nothing. He turned back around.
"Are you so coldhearted, so tough that you can't even admit that you care about your sister? After you went to such lengths to find her? She doesn't know you're her brother, but she still cares! I don't understand, Hiei, " he said heavily, "why you can't just admit that you care. I—"
At that point, Hiei ended his quasi-tirade by abruptly grabbing the long chains of the swing. The swing jerked back and forth in an effort to adjust to the sudden change. Before Kurama could turn around, Hiei had flitted to face the kitsune, grabbing and clenching the chains half in exasperation, half in almost anger. Bending down and over Kurama's legs so that his face was only centimeters from Kurama's, he watched the kitsune for a moment. "Don't lecture me on what you know nothing about, fox."
Kurama lost none of his composure. His eyes hardened as he replied. "So I don't know anything, Jaganshi? Being on the receiving end of your non-communication doesn't give me any sort of authority to speak on the subject? Watching the reactions of those who care about you doesn't lend me any credentials?" He paused and continued, "I thought you didn't like liars—that's why I'm saying what I really think." He halted briefly. "Does it bother you that much?"
Hiei replied evenly, "No it doesn't. I didn't say that you couldn't say anything, I said that you didn't know anything." Before Kurama could cut in, he added, in a quieter tone, "I care a lot more than you would know. And I'm willing to admit it."
The beautiful redhead stared at him in shock before pulling away a little. He closed his eyes and sighed. When he next opened his eyes and spoke, his tone was much softer. "Admit it to whom? If you cared, you could've shown it, instead of hiding it like some sort of guilty secret."
Hiei pulled away and let go of one of the chains, holding the other loosely. He looked over the tops of the trees to watch a lone bird's flight across the sky. "There's only one person to tell."
Kurama was disappointed. He'd been temporarily disappointed when Hiei'd pulled away…so close…and he was disappointed again now. He knew who the little demon meant. It was always the same. But it didn't lessen his disappointment any each time he asked. "Yukina."
An unexpected thing happened then. The half-koorime didn't nod or show any signs of confirmation. Instead, he turned to the half-youko, amusement alternating with self-satisfaction in his burgundy orbs, as if he had a piece of rare knowledge in his possession. Which he did. "Yukina knows."
Kurama's eyes widened in shock. "What? When did you tell her?" Ever since Yuusuke, Kuwabara and Hiei himself had rescued the koorime, Kurama had been trying to get Hiei to tell her that he was her brother, to no avail.
"I didn't tell her. She figured it out on her own." She is my sister after all. Not quite as naïve as everyone seems to think. He remembered her exact words. She'd discovered him in a tree outside the temple and had posed the same question she always did. When he'd given his usual answer, he'd expected her expression to sadden, as it always did. It did not. Instead, she'd smiled and said, "It's all right. I've already found my brother, so you don't have to search anymore…oniisan." He'd almost fallen out of the tree.
Kurama was puzzled. "But if it's not Yukina you need to tell, then who…" he trailed off.
Hiei grasped the other chain with his free hand and bent down to be on the same eye level as Kurama. "I would have thought that was obvious, fox," he said softly. Swiftly, determinedly, he closed the distance between their mouths and kissed those smooth lips.
Kurama had barely had time to register Hiei's cryptic words before he felt warm lips against his. He only had time to think Hiei's kissing me! before he gave up his mental capacities to enjoy the physical sensations of the moment. The fire demon's eyes were closed, and Kurama followed suit as he pressed his own mouth back against those delicious lips. Two small hands abandoned the chains they had been clutching. Strong arms wrapped around Kurama's shoulders, and supple ones wound around Hiei's waist.
Hiei growled when Kurama kissed back, not in warning or annoyance, but in satisfaction and pleasure. It seemed the fox was just as willing to surrender to him as he was to break down the youkai's walls. The fire demon grinned against the half-youko's lips. Half-youko! He's just as enthusiastic as any full youko, even though he's in his human form. Not that that's a bad thing.
Kurama tried to pull Hiei closer to him, but his own knees and thighs were in the way. Hiei pushed against him, but all he did was push the swing forward. When he eased the pressure, it swung back at him, and Kurama's knees knocked gently against his legs, pushing him back a little. Hiei sighed mentally in frustration and carefully broke off the kiss.
Kurama made a little noise of dissent and tried to reach up to kiss him again. Hiei shook his head amusedly and put a finger to Kurama's lips. Kurama kissed then licked the finger and, a seductive smile on his lips, looked up at the fire demon, who shook his head again. He certainly doesn't act like this under normal conditions!
"Move over, Kurama," he said.
Kurama raised an eyebrow and cast a quick glance at their immediate surroundings. "Where?"
Hiei studied his position for a moment. "Never mind. Just stay still." He held onto one of the chains and lifted the opposite leg over the wooden swing so that it was resting next to Kurama's leg. Luckily, the swing was low to the ground, so the task was accomplished with little delay. Grabbing the other chain, he hoisted himself into the lap of the bemused kitsune, placing his other leg next to Kurama's. "Much better."
The redhead chuckled and wrapped one arm around the half-koorime's waist and the other around his shoulders. Drawing him in, he rested his forehead on Hiei's. "Anything else to take care of?" The Jaganshi shook his head. "Good."
Kurama nuzzled the soft, ebony hair that was so conveniently in front of him and inhaled the pleasant smell wafting from them. Smells just like Hiei. He proceeded further down to nuzzle the smooth skin of Hiei's face and finally, to kiss the fire demon's lips again. Hiei'd had no reaction except a few shivers to Kurama's previous actions but now he enfolded the fox in an embrace and kissed back.
Kurama was calmly euphoric. This was what he'd so fervently dreamed about and willed to happen, what he'd wanted so badly, what he'd craved. A restless adrenaline seeped through him, heightening the sensation of every touch, magnifying the delightful feelings, but also reminding the kitsune why he'd wanted this so much.
After being reincarnated as a human, Kurama had become painfully well acquainted with regret. Tossing and turning at night, unable to shut out the memories of the deeds he'd committed as a youko, he saw the hedonistic, heinous edge of so many of what he'd deemed casual actions—his thieving of valuables merely so he could say he'd stolen it, his lack of mercy towards those who had unknowingly bothered him in the slightest, his fickleness and infidelity when it came to lovers. Even now, after twenty-two years of humanity, the nightmares sometimes still hovered on the edge of his consciousness, refusing to be banished.
Those nightmares were half the reason he'd agreed to become a Reikai Tantei. (The other half being that he had no wish to spend the next lifetime in a dank Reikai jail cell) The "good-guy attitude" that other demons derided wasn't adopted entirely out of ningen morals, but also as an attempt to, if not negate the crimes of his former life, then to at least whitewash them and hopefully ease his guilt a little. It was selfish of him, but it'd gained him some reprieve and peace of mind.
Kurama wanted to share that feeling with Hiei. The youkai was not beset by reincarnation-induced moral quandaries, but Kurama knew that no demon led an easy life unmarked or unblemished by cruelty and horror, let alone a demon who had been ostracized and abandoned by his own kind. A sweet, innocent sister like Yukina would only serve as a standard of comparison against which the bloody secrets that soiled him would seem darker and deeper. Kurama had hoped the half-koorime would open up to him enough to talk about his past, allowing Kurama to shoulder some of his burden. As stoic as Hiei appeared, he was no Atlas, and he was struggling to carry the weight of his own sins, let alone the weight of the sky.
For over three years, the fox's efforts had been blocked by Hiei's pride and aloofness. Now, though, for some unknown reason, the youkai had accepted him and had even approached him on his own. The first hesitant step had been taken, and the next ones had been walked assuredly, smoothly. Kurama was relishing it, and so, apparently, was Hiei.
Hiei was blissfully relaxed. For once in his lifetime, he could let go of his psychological inhibitions and immerse himself in the physical. There was no need to keep part of his mind detached and alert, watching for traps and traitors, because his partner was one he'd been working with for years and observing for even longer He trusted Kurama and right now, he needed him very much.
In all the physical relationships he'd been in, neither he nor his partner had needed the closeness. Wanted it, maybe, but never needed it. Besides, there had never been any deep affection on either side. The thought that Kurama cared deeply about him did not frighten him as much as the fact that he himself cared and wanted to be cared for.
He pushed the fear and the disturbing sentimentality aside, leaving them to be dealt with later. He would not destroy the moment with troubling thoughts.
Hiei was unaware of the outside world, thoroughly savoring each stimulating sensation that enticed and beckoned to him to leave his tense reality and enter the open-eyed dream. He temporarily forgot that he was a Forbidden Child, forgot that he was in alien world that bored him, forgot that in a few days' time, he would be returning to a world and a fortress where death rewarded the smallest slip. He only noted the movement of the kitsune's hands, the warmth of his body, and the taste of his mouth.
When they finally pulled apart, the sun had sunk behind the thicket, the last of its rays peeping through and illuminating every space and opening in the foliage. The before-unheeded twittering and intermittent cries of the resident birds diminished as twilight languidly approached. A breeze stirred the leaves, bringing with it less warmth than its afternoon brothers.
The two demons sitting on the swing watched the peaceful scene, subconsciously noting and storing away each detail. Kurama, who had his arms loosely wrapped around Hiei's waist and his cheek resting on Hiei's hair, pushed against the ground a little, starting the swing in a slow oscillation. Hiei, who had his arms wrapped around the middle of Kurama's back and his cheek resting on Kurama's collarbone, readjusted his position a little and sighed. Neither of them wanted to break the silence.
Kurama gathered the warm bundle sitting in his lap closer to him. "Hiei?"
Hiei made a questioning noise.
"Why did you come back?"
Hiei was silent. He briefly considered telling him that he didn't know, but that wasn't true. "It was time for it to end."
"For what to end?"
"The game. The one we were playing."
Out of the fire demon's sight, Kurama knit his brow. He had a vague idea of what Hiei was talking about, but he wasn't really sure. Better to ask than assume, he supposed. "What game?"
Hiei groaned, resigned to having his repose permanently interrupted by his inquisitive fox. "The chase. The hunt. Whatever you want to call it. Weren't you chasing me?" He raised his head to look up at the kitsune.
Kurama raised an eyebrow, then blinked a few times. He then burst out laughing. Hiei frowned at him. When he'd finished laughing, he wiped away a few tears and grinned.
Hiei continued to frown at him. "What's so funny?"
Kurama shook his head, still smiling. "Nothing, just the way you phrased it…"
"It wasn't that funny. Not funny enough to provoke tears of mirth, or whatever you call it."
"They weren't tears of mirth; the laughter and the tears were separate."
"Then why were you crying?"
The half-youko smiled sadly. "Because you noticed. All those years of trying to get close to you paid off. I thought that you never noticed or cared, but you did. So I'm happy. And those tears were tears of rejoicing at finally having something I've wanted for a long time: you."
Hiei snorted. "You make it seem like I'm some sort of prize or reward."
Kurama's seriousness went as quietly as it came. He leaned forward and rubbed his nose against Hiei's. "But you are. The best prize in the world, and you're mine, and not anyone else's," he purred.
Hiei snorted again and pushed against his chest. Not very hard, it could be noted. Kurama hugged him.
"Kurama."
"Hm?"
"I'm not surrendering."
"Of course not," Kurama replied, not really listening.
"You'll have to work to earn your own prize."
Kurama was listening now. And he grinned. Still as proud as ever. "The same goes for you," he joked.
Hiei took it seriously and nodded. Mentally, though, he almost smiled. Looks like our game hasn't ended after all.
"Hiei?"
The fire demon raised his head to look up at Kurama.
"How long do you have? To stay here, I mean."
Hiei closed his eyes and leaned back against Kurama's chest. "A week, maybe more." That's how long the festivals usually last.
"All right." Maybe we can have our own festivities.
And then, Kurama stretched and patted the youkai's hair. "Let's go."
Hiei reluctantly unwrapped his arms from around the fox, lifted his head, and pulled one leg, then the other off of the swing. He offered Kurama his hand, an unnecessary gesture that communicated the feelings that he wasn't yet ready to discuss. Kurama took it and slid off the swing but didn't let go.
"Where are we going, fox?"
Kurama squeezed his hand gently. "Home."
Notes: oniisan: older brother
Atlas is a giant from Greek mythology who holds up the sky. Sometimes, in statues, he's shown as holding up a globe. Actually, Atlas really hated holding up the sky, because it was boring and heavy. Tress even grew around and between his toes and feet. Once he tried to get Hercules to hold the sky up for him, because Hercules wanted three apples from the Garden of Hesperides. If a mortal were to pick these apples, he would die, so Atlas got Hercules to hold up the sky while he went to pick the apples. Hercules was grateful for the apples, but when he tried to give the sky back to Atlas, Atlas refused, because he liked not having to hold up the sky. Atlas was going to leave, but Hercules asked him to hold the sky for a just a moment, so he could adjust his lionskin to make a better buffer between the sky and his shoulders. Atlas agreed, and Hercules left with his apples.
--owari--
