Yo! I decided I could post this as a New Year's thing or as a "aw, man, I have to go back to school so I better post something before I don't have time to write anymore." Whichever one works, right? Anyway, I was kind of wondering about the lacks of reviews last chapter. Was the wait really so bad that we couldn't send Nagem a few words about her story? Eh, whatever.

Hmm, actually, I've only gotten one or two reviews per chapter since chapter nine . . . am I taking this story in the wrong direction? I warned everyone ahead of time that there was going to be yaoi in it. . . . Hmm . . . something to ponder during math class, then, I guess.

Oh, and congrats to burritomistress for noticing the Yuki/Shuichi thing . . . you're actually only the second one who's gotten it. (erm, there's supposed to be a wink, there. . . .)

One more thing before I let my fic loose. In one review, it was requested that I write a lemon for this story. I would love to (even though I'm not that good at it . . . ) except for the minor fact that this site does not allow lemons. So, after thinking this over, I came up with an idea. On the version, it could be obvious that that's what happens, and then I could provide a link to my site with another version that includes the lemon, for anyone that wants it. Sound good? (I just don't want to get banned here, people)

Yuki sat at his desk, tapping his pencil against the paper, hand on his chin, apparently thinking hard. At one point, it crossed his mind that his algebra homework was never going to get done like this, and at another he decided that he didn't care. Figuring out what exactly Yeirugan had done to Shuichi was more important, more life-changing than getting an "F" on one of his assignments. The door creaked, and then opened. Yuki turned to see Kurama's face peeking in, smiling.

"What do you want?" Yuki asked, trying to sound as if he weren't contemplating his stepbrother's secrets.

"You've been in here doing your homework for an hour," Kurama said softly. "Do you need any help?" He closed the door behind him and came in, walking up to Yuki's desk and staring at the blank sheets.

"No thanks, I just can't concentrate, is all," Yuki replied. It was the truth-despite Yuki's constant fighting at school, his actual work was excellent, his grades could rival Kurama's, if he even cared.

"Any reason why?"

"If I tell you, you'll get angry at me," Yuki said.

"I see." Kurama shifted his weight from one foot to the other, nervous. It wasn't obvious, but Yuki, who had known the kitsune since his ningen childhood, caught on quickly. He gave Kurama a look, and waited. "Yuki, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Why'd you do that?"

Yuki looked up, confused. "Why'd I do what?"

"Why'd you. . . . " Kurama blushed. "Kiss me?" When Yuki blinked, registering the question, the kitsune hurried on. "When I told you that I loved you, you replied that you didn't feel the same. And then . . . you kiss me, like you meant it."

"I did mean it."

Kurama stared at him, shocked. "What?"

"I did mean it, Shuichi," Yuki replied. "I don't know if I realized it at the time, but I do mean it." He looked over, into Kurama's deep green eyes. "I love you, Shuichi." Kurama stayed still, silent, for a moment, staring at Yuki. The other boy grinned at the kitsune's reaction. "What? Did you expect me to say something else?"

"To be blunt, yes," Kurama answered, somewhat weakly. Another silent moment passed, and then Yuki reached out with one hand, cupped Kurama's chin, and brought their lips together. The kitsune, surprised by the other's actions, fell into his arms. They stayed like that for a moment, holding each other, eyes closed.

Finally, Yuki pulled away as they heard footsteps approaching the room. "Shuichi? Yuki?" Shiori peered in at her two sons, both of whom were red in the face, Yuki pouring over his math homework and Kurama standing there stupid, as if he was not sure whether to help Yuki or to leave. "Dinner's ready." She looked over them both once more. "Is something the matter? Did you two fight again?"

"No, 'kassan, everything's fine," Kurama replied, heading for the doorway and hearing Yuki stand behind him. As the three made their way down to the table, Kurama dared a glance at his stepbrother, and was relieved to find the teenager smiling at him.

That was how Kurama's life went for the next few weeks. He and Yuki shared secret, tentative kisses while no one was watching. Most of the time, they'd sit and talk about various things-what life would be life if they weren't stepbrothers, what life would be like if Kurama had never become a part of the Reikai Tantei, what life would be like if neither of them were demons, just normal teenagers. Sometimes, Yuki or Kurama, most of the time, both, would have homework that they did together. That was the most relaxing, Kurama decided. Just sitting there in the company of the other in complete silence, knowing that he was there if the kitsune needed him. Unfortunately, it was during one of these times that Kurama's stomach began turning. He sat there, pouring over a textbook he had just opened, when he swallowed, hard, trying to get rid of the feeling that he was about to be violently sick.

"Something wrong?" Yuki asked, looking up from his own work. His dark eyes glittered with concern. Kurama, about to shake his head and return to the task before him, suddenly felt himself nodding. Yuki's worry nearly doubled. "What's the matter?"

"I . . . feel ill," Kurama murmured.

"How so?" Yuki asked, moving closer to him. The goth stared into Kurama's face, and noted, biting his lip with worry, that the kitsune was abnormally pale, and a feverish heat emitted from him. Yuki put his hand to his stepbrother's forehead. "You're . . . burning up," he stated in disbelief. How could he get sick? It wasn't normal for youkai to catch ningen viruses.

"I'm going to be sick," Kurama mumbled, placing his hand in front of his mouth.

"What?" Yuki stared in utter disbelief as Kurama shuddered violently. "Hey! Not in here!" He grabbed his stepbrother and hauled the kitsune to his feet. "C'mon, let's get you to a bathroom."

"Ug." Kurama shuddered again.

"I said not in here!" Yuki yelped, guiding him out the door. They walked as quickly as their awkward situation would allow, Kurama with his hand over his mouth and Yuki with his arms around the kitsune, guiding him. "Come on, almost there. . . . " Kurama began to heave into his hand. "Hold it in!" Reaching the bathroom, Yuki fumbled with the doorknob for a second, then flung the kitsune inside and closed the door again. He grimaced as Kurama began to hack, followed by a splat as something hit the floor. Yuki began to sneak off, but heard Kurama's wavering voice.

"This . . . "

"Shuichi, what's wrong?" He opened the bathroom door, and stopped. Kurama, looking unsteady on his feet, was leaning against the sink, blood dripping down his chin. It lay around him in piles, and the hand he had used to cover his mouth was coated in it. "What the hell?"

"This is. . . . " Kurama began, but cut off as he doubled over, bringing his hand to his mouth and hacking, adding to the pile of blood around him.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Yuki said, hurriedly stepping forward and wrapping his arm around Kurama in an attempt to support the kitsune. "Easy now. You seem to know what's going on here. Explain."

"There's a plant, in the Makai," Kurama said, his words tumbling over each other in an attempt to get out before Kurama had to be sick again. "It's one of the few that can heal. You take dust off the vine, inhale it, and it cures nearly every ailment."

"Yeah, I've heard of it," Yuki replied, encouraging his stepbrother to go on.

"But in death, its role is reversed," Kurama continued. "When you inhale the dust, it makes you ill, feverish, and begins to tear your insides apart. Thus, you vomit blood." He suddenly cursed. "Shit. Why didn't I notice it before?" When Yuki said nothing, Kurama began to babble. "That vine he called on to trap me, why didn't I notice it? He planned this, dammit!" He looked up at Yuki. "I'm sorry. I said I could defend myself, and I couldn't."

"It isn't your fault," Yuki said. "I'm sure you just . . . " He looked down at the defeated kitsune, and sighed. It was time for a change of tactics, because no matter what he said, he doubted it would make his stepbrother feel better. Instead, he lead Kurama out of the bathroom and down the hall. "Come on, let's get you to bed. I'll clean up that mess in the bathroom for you."

"Thanks," Kurama said as they reached his room and Yuki gently laid him down. "'Kassan'll be worried," he added, somewhat absent-mindedly.

"Don't worry, I won't tell her what happened," Yuki said, gently smoothing Kurama's hair as the kitsune began to drift off to sleep.

Yusuke was irritated. Actually, he was beyond irritated. He was downright pissed, and his companions knew it. Note the fact that Hiei had long vanished into a tree and Kuwabara was some distance away from the tantei, and edging further away every second. The orange-headed teenager wanted to ask Yusuke what was wrong, but he had the feeling that he already knew, and asking would just make it worse.

"Where the hell is he!" No one answered Yusuke, and his question was repeated, this time with a long line of expletives instead of the word "hell".

Hiei must have suddenly felt the urge to feel pain, because he replied in a way that almost set Yusuke off. "He must have gotten tired of working with you two." Yusuke whirled and began screaming expletives, stopping every once in a while to threaten Hiei with bodily harm if the missing member of his team didn't show up in the next few seconds. Hiei listened to these with a raised eyebrow, daring the tantei to actually try it, while Kuwabara regarded the nearby playground as mothers heard Yusuke and began to leave, grabbing their shocked children and racing off.

"Somebody got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning."

"You try working with a team like this." Yusuke turned and fixed the newcomer with a death glare that rivaled Hiei's.

"You forget," Yuki said, feeling somewhat uncomfortable around an angry Yusuke. "I deal with one-fourth of it every day of my life." Yusuke's glare, if it was possible, intensified, and Yuki sweatdropped, moving farther away from him. "Anyway, I came to tell you, that Shuichi isn't gonna make it today."

"Why the hell not!" Yusuke demanded.

"He's sick," Yuki snapped, defending his stepbrother.

"What?" Kuwabara asked. "How can he get sick? I thought youkai couldn't get sick."

"Not with ningen viruses, anyway," Yuki said. "This is something else."

"What happened?" Yusuke asked, his anger cooling, replaced with concern for his friend.

"He has a high fever and puked blood all over the bathroom floor earlier this afternoon."

"How?"

"Yeirugan." There was silence. Yuki bit his lip. "Listen, I think I can find the cure to what Yeirugan did. Leave it to me." He turned, ready to go home, but Yusuke caught him by the arm. "What?"

"If you need help, call us. Shuichi's our friend."

Yuki smiled. "All right. Thanks."

Kurama slept. He slept without knowing it, dreaming and thinking that his dreams were reality. He would dream things that caused him to cry out, startling whoever was in the room with him. Sometimes, he would come to a half-consciousness, and hear the murmured words of people he was sure he knew, but couldn't place who they were. There was a woman, and a young man, sometimes an older man accompanied them. They discussed taking him to a hospital, discussed what would happen if his fever didn't go down. One voice, the young man, was very solemn, sad, as if something were his fault, the other, the woman's, was crazed with worry behind her somewhat sensible tone. There were times where something jumped up his throat and out his mouth, spilling warm onto his chest, followed by one of the three voices saying something and then wiping it off.

For the first time in a long while, Kurama was pretty sure he was thinking clearly. He knew that he was dreaming. The kitsune stood in a dark room, as Youko, ears twitching and waiting for something to happen, for the dream to be set in motion. Soon enough, he was rewarded, as the outline of a limping figure came into his view. Kurama watched as the figure grew larger, details sharpening, and then was shocked.

"K-Kuronue?"

The figure's gaze snapped upward, registering Kurama, and broke into a grin. "Kitsune!" He limped over to Kurama, and the youko couldn't help but notice that a large amount of blood poured from a wound in his leg, even more from a wound in his side.

"Kuronue," he said. "What . . . happened?" No, he knew what happened. . . .

"Why do you need to ask?" Kuronue's tone, which had been joyful when he called out to Kurama, suddenly turned sour. The kitsune winced, and watched in horror as Kuronue's face twisted, mutating into a grotesque display of emotion that Kurama had never seen before. "You saw it all, didn't you?"

"Kuronue," Kurama said, backing away in spite of himself. "What. . . . " He was forced to dodge as the chimera came at him, scythe drawn, aiming to kill. Landing safely a few feet away from his original position, Kurama turned to his friend. "What are you doing?"

"My revenge, kitsune," Kuronue murmured, almost madly. Kurama began to shudder, and tried to remind himself that this was a dream. "Is it really, though?" The chimera grinned, an insane tint in his eyes, tapping his scythe almost thoughtfully against the air. "It's what you've always felt, isn't it?" Kuronue's image began to mutate, dissolving into a senseless blob that spoke to Kurama, driving the kitsune insane. "Guilt . . . and anger. Self-loathing. You hate yourself for not rescuing me."

Kurama, shaking, put his hands to his ears, trying to block out the words. "N-no. You're not Kuronue. You're just like that . . . that imposter . . . " He shook his head, trying to clear it. "Kuronue told me to run."

"Did I now?"

"You're not Kuronue!"

"You don't seem so sure."

"Not . . . Kuronue."

"How can I not be? I can read your every thought, just like partners should. . . .
"No!" Kurama peered at the blob. It had Kuronue's face again, looking horribly out of place. "No!" He grimaced as Kuronue's face blurred, changing its shape once more. The image twisted and turned, transforming.

"Shuichi!" It was Yuki. Kurama blinked several times, and the room he was in vanished, swirling into another setting. "Shuichi!" Yuki's face, which hadn't vanished along with the room, smiled gently. "Hey there. Welcome back to the land of the living."

"Yuki?" Kurama blinked. "You're here?"

The other teenager kissed Kurama's forehead gently. "Of course, love. Why wouldn't I be?" He licked his lips, and grimaced. "You're still really warm, Shuichi."

"I feel like it," Kurama groaned, light-headed and stiff. "How long has it been since I went out?"

"About three days," Yuki responded. "You had everyone really worried. Luckily, I knew of some herbs that would bring your fever down." He made a face. "Took me forever to convince Shiori-san to let me give them to you."

"I'm sorry," Kurama said, with the best apologetic grin he could manage. He looked up at Yuki, curious. "You never mentioned you knew anything about herbs."

Yuki shrugged. "I had a friend who dabbled in them," he said. "I picked some up along the way." He tried to sound neutral, but his face ranged in emotions-anything from amusement to sorrow. "Anyway, that's not the important thing."

"What happened?" Kurama asked at the suddenly serious look on Yuki's face, fearing for the worst.

"I think I know a cure."

"What?" Kurama blinked at his stepbrother. "What do you mean? Only the people who use plants frequently even know about that plant, let alone a cure!"
Yuki raised an eyebrow. "I guess you fall into the plant-user category?"

"Yeah," Kurama said, suddenly embarrassed and averting his eyes. "That's why I was so mad at myself for not knowing what Yeirugan was up to when he wrapped me in those vines."

"I see," Yuki replied. He suddenly looked somewhat curious, his eyes glinted with amusement. "You know, Shuichi, we claim to love each other, but we've never really stopped and looked at each other very much."

"What do you mean?"

He grinned. "Well, we don't know a thing about our youkai forms. For all you know, I could be some stupid D-class."

"Yeah right," Kurama said playfully. "The D-class aren't smart enough to hide in the ningenkai as long as you have." He paused, considering Yuki's words. "Come to think, I don't know what kind of youkai you are. Would you mind telling me?"

"As long as you tell me."

"Deal."

"I'm-"

"Shuichi!" Both boys jumped as Shiori appeared in the doorway, looking frazzled and relieved. "Shuichi, you're awake." Even through the relief in her voice, she shot Yuki a glare, and when Kurama glanced over, his stepbrother had a sheepish look on his face. Shiori strode over, placing her hand on Kurama's forehead and wincing at how warm he still was. "Yuki's herbs worked. How are you feeling?"

"All right," Kurama said. He winced as he tried to move his arm and wrap it about Shiori in a hug. "Stiff." He gave up and let his entire body fall back onto the sheets on his bed. "I'm sorry to have worried you."

She hugged him. "As long as you're feeling better, it doesn't matter." Shiori peered at him, and sighed. "Oh, Shuichi, you're still so pale."

"I don't think the herbs do anything to help the illness," Yuki said from his bedside post. "They just bring the fever down."

Shiori sighed again. "Oh, well," she said, finally pulling away from Kurama and standing straight. "You were really sick." She carefully pushed Kurama's hair out of his eyes. "You'd call out in your dreams."

"I did?" Kurama asked. He hoped that he hadn't said anything that might have given away something important.

"Yes, all sorts," Shiori continued. "Names and words." Kurama felt Yuki stiffen. Glancing over and giving her stepson an odd look, she changed the train of thought. "Shuichi, are you hungry?" Kurama nodded. "I'll go get something ready for you, then." She kissed his forehead, as Yuki had done, and then left the room.

Kurama glanced over. The look on Yuki's face was unreadable. "What's wrong?"

"Hm? Oh, nothing." He put a hand to his forehead, smiling gently at the kitsune. "I think I'm starting to imagine things."

"What makes you say that?"

Yuki sighed. "Shiori-san said you called out things in your sleep, right?" Kurama's moving muscles stiffened, an uncanny imitation of what his stepbrother had done just moments before. "Well, this time. . . . What were you dreaming about?"

"I . . . don't remember," Kurama lied.

"You called out for someone," Yuki said, voice shaking slightly. "Someone named . . . Kuronue."

Kurama's eyes went wide. "Wh-what?" he nearly demanded, then, looking at Yuki's reaction to the name, changed his answer. "W-who's that?" It sounded bad, even to the kitsune's own ears. His voice was wavering madly, just like Yuki's, making it hard to act surprised or frightened. Kurama looked up at his stepbrother, and swallowed, trying to steady himself. "N-no, that's not right. I'm sorry. I've heard the stories, of course, about the thieves Youko and Kuronue, but it doesn't make sense. . . . Why would I call out to one of them?" He began to babble, sweating profusely, almost swearing he could feel his temperature rise.

"Nevermind," Yuki said, grabbing Kurama's shoulders and forcing him to lie still. "Listen, the sooner we get you over this, the sooner we can forget about it. I know of a cure. I'll go get it. You rest."

"Thank you," Kurama mumbled, feeling sleepy already after his few minutes of wakefulness.

"It's not a problem, love," Yuki replied, kissing the kitsune's forehead. He left the room, still shaken by the day's events.