Opium Dream

Chapter two: Morning After

By Funara

Disclaimer: Don't own it. And by it, you know what I mean.

Notes: Like I said in the new notes for chapter one, "Opium Dream" has now become an ongoing story. I'll probably regret trying to write two chapter fics at the same time, but it's too late now. To reiterate, this is a gift fic for kitsunelover and will be her present for however many holidays pass before I finish this. This includes your birthday, kitsunelover. And because this is for her, Karasu will be playing a prominent role in this story. So, that means Hiei/Kurama and Karasu/Kurama.

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The next morning dawned cold and bright, the white sun hovering in the sky, but offering no warmth. The snow had stopped in the middle of the night, but the effects of its accumulation—fresh new white covering the dark brown slush—would make it difficult to go anywhere, especially given the ice frozen beneath.

Hiei sat on the edge of the futon, pulling on his boots. He didn't need to look through the almost imperceptible cracks of the boarded up window to know what the streets would look like, how innocent the entire scene would appear underneath the blanket of white. He'd had enough experience of snow—both in his mountainous homeland and here, in this ruined city—to picture it accurately.

Boots strapped and buckled, the black-haired soldier fastened his cloak. He picked up the short sword that he always carried with him—hidden in his cloak, away from the proprietor and his bedmate. At the thought, Hiei glanced at the latter, who was still sleeping, back turned towards him, long red hair trailing over his shoulder.

If they had been back in the barracks, Hiei would simply have left, as he, unlike many of his fellows, had felt no obligation to wake his bedmate. Besides, he usually rose far earlier than the rest of them did. However, given what had happened the night before, he was now tied to Kurama in such a way that he could not abandon him.

So he would have to come with him, at least for now.

Hiei placed one knee on his side of the futon, leaning over to lay a hand on Kurama's shoulder and wake him. He was surprised to find, though, that beneath the soft red hair that he moved aside, he encountered warm skin, rather than fabric. The young noble's robe had probably slipped off his shoulder while he'd slept.

The bare skin was soft beneath his callused fingers, and without thinking, Hiei leaned forward and kissed his shoulder. He drew back after a moment, feeling a strange satisfaction at the faint mark he'd left. Kurama stirred, waking up, and finally sat up, running a hand automatically through his hair. He turned when he caught sight of Hiei, already fully dressed.

Hiei felt a warm, pleasurable ache diffuse through him at the sight of Kurama, sleepy-eyed but still pretty, elegant robes off one shoulder, baring a good deal of chest, almost all the way down to his waist. Kurama colored slightly at the look in Hiei's eyes and pulled his robes closed, looking vaguely embarrassed. Hiei dragged his eyes away and stood up.

"Let's go. That old lady will be after us to get out."

Kurama nodded in silent agreement and began to get dressed.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Ten minutes later, they stepped gingerly outside, feet sinking through the new snow. Hiei had woken the old proprietor by banging on a table, something she had not taken kindly to, but she was slightly placated by Hiei's shoving some coins at her. She'd inspected them carefully before tucking them into her sash and turning her back on them.

Kurama glanced at Hiei. "Where are we going?"

"The army headquarters."

Kurama turned to him in surprise. "The army headquarters? You're a soldier?" Hiei gave the slightest of nods, preoccupied with finding their way around the snowy city, where most common landmarks had been covered overnight with precipitation. Kurama surveyed him thoughtfully.

It made sense. The only people left in the city were soldiers of the Republican Army, former nobles like himself, and the owners and employees of such places like the one in which they had spent the night. However, such a revelation presented difficulties for Kurama's hope that he could stay with Hiei, at least until he figured out how he was to survive from now on.

Kurama marveled inwardly at the thought. All his life, he had been restricted by his well-meaning parents and elders, who had maintained that the reputation of the family must remain spotless, perfect. And that meant he, as heir to that reputation, must be accomplished, resourceful, as flawless as he could manage. Now, though, he was free to do as he wished. Free even, to kiss a young man he barely knew.

Kurama glanced at Hiei's impassable countenance, wondering what he was thinking. And what he had been thinking last night, when he'd kissed him. My help isn't worth any more than that, he'd said and had pulled away, even though Kurama had not wanted him to, even though Kurama had wanted him to keep kissing and touching him like no one else had in a long while. Last night, before he'd fallen asleep, he'd thought of a dozen reasons why Hiei had stopped—perhaps he'd thought that what they had been doing was wrong, perhaps he had been drunk, perhaps he had thought he was taking advantage of Kurama. But this morning, he had been greeted by the sight of undisguised desire in Hiei's eyes. And on top of it all, Hiei had fought the gang of young men whose leader had been bothering Kurama. What were Hiei's intentions?

"This is the building." Kurama looked up. The headquarters of the Republican Army was located in a large building, made originally out of white marble with sweeping white steps and white pillars, though the steps were brown with mud now. The building had looked decidedly out of place, not only because of its whiteness, but because the design was taken from a western country the former emperor had visited.

Hiei began to climb the steps but looked back when Kurama did not follow him. The taller young man smiled at him. "I'll wait for you. I don't think your superiors would be happy to see me a day after they ordered my family's assets to be taken away."

"Fine." Hiei continued up the stairs, pulled open a door and disappeared inside.

Kurama watched him go and walked to the side of the broad stairs to wait for him. Every once in a while, a soldier would hurry past, anxious to get into the building. He had been surprised, earlier, by the revelation that Hiei was one of these people. Judging from his behavior in the bar, he had looked as though he wouldn't take orders from anyone. He was probably stubborn and headstrong, and Kurama was glad to have met him. He was far different from all the people he'd known in his life. It was staying with him that was going to be a problem. Kurama frowned, remembering his previous train of thought.

Despite all his thinking, he was fully aware that he could not reach a conclusion about Hiei's motives until he actually asked Hiei himself. As he debated when to do so, he remembered something else that had occurred to him: Hiei was a soldier with a job and pay. Kurama was currently unemployed. Moreover, Hiei's unit could be moved out of the city at any time, and Kurama had no idea if he could, or should, follow him.

"Goddamnit, Roto, walk faster. We'll all freeze waiting for you."

"All right, all right, hold on."

Kurama looked at the trio of soldiers climbing the stairs, two of them far ahead of the third. The lagging one was shivering violently in a thin jacket, while the other two were bundled up tightly. He wondered why they didn't give their friend one more piece of clothing—certainly even a scarf from the huge, bulky one would be adequate.

One of the soldiers, the one who hadn't called out to Roto, glanced in Kurama's direction and saw him watching them. Kurama thought he could see short, stiff blond hair that stood straight up under his hood. The blond soldier elbowed his thuggish companion and nodded towards Kurama. They sauntered over, ignoring their companion's shouted questions.

"Hello there," said the taller one, his ugly face splitting into a grin. His entire body seemed to be nothing but muscle—overdeveloped muscle like hunks of meat beneath his pasty skin. Kurama felt the urge to step back from him.

He nodded instead and turned his gaze towards the doors of the white building, signaling that he did not wish to talk.

The immense soldier was not discouraged. "I'm Gouki. This's my friend Zeru," he pointed to the blond-haired soldier, who was much shorter than himself, "and that's Roto back there." He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder.

Kurama nodded again, sparing him the quickest of glances.

"We were wondering if you wanted to join us. We're gonna go find somewhere interesting after we sign in at the office."

Kurama felt a sudden rush of déjà vu, and he was reminded sharply of the events of the night before. Gouki, oblivious, continued on. "You're all alone, so why don't you join us? We can give ya a good time." His grin came out as a leer.

Kurama felt a ribbon of apprehension and annoyance twist its way around his stomach. This better not turn out like last night…"I'm sorry. I'm waiting for someone."

"Well, then he can come too. Ain't like we're excluding anyone."

"We have somewhere to go."

Gouki took a step toward Kurama. "Where ya in such a rush to?" Out of the corner of his eye, Kurama saw his two comrades, the lagging one finally having reached them, closing in as well. Suddenly, Gouki grasped Kurama's chin and jerked his face up, causing a pain to shoot through the red-haired young man's neck. Their faces were uncomfortably close, and Kurama responded instantly, punching the taller man hard in the chest. He staggered back, shock evident in his eyes, but not seriously hurt.

Gouki narrowed his eyes, apparently thinking more of him than he had before and assessed him rapidly before chuckling darkly. "So you can hit back." He shifted his gaze to something over Kurama's shoulder and nodded.

Before Kurama could defend himself from Gouki's comrades, Zeru hit a sharp blow to the back of his head, and Kurama fell to the ground, unconscious.

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The main office of the Republican Army was located on the second floor of the white marble building. Hiei had stalked up the stairs, the place always putting him instantly in a bad mood, and opened the door of the third room on the right, not bothering to knock. The bad mood stemmed from the fact that undergoing this procedure reminded him he was constantly under the watch of someone else, and the penchant for not knocking came from the fact that the clerk inside knew him, unfortunately, and he was used to seeing Hiei, because Hiei often spent the night in places other than his barracks.

Hiei walked up to the table in the middle of the room and stood, looking down at the young, black-haired clerk who had fallen asleep at his desk. He coughed.

The young man's eyes opened immediately, and he sat up quickly, running a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, sir, I got here early, and—oh. It's you." He quickly dropped his professional demeanor and relaxed. "What's up?"

Hiei raised an eyebrow. "Think, Yuusuke," he said dryly. "Why else would I force myself to spend time in your presence?"

Yuusuke faked a hurt expression but ruined the effect by propping his feet up on his desk. "You wound me, Hiei. After all we've been through, you—"

"Cut the crap, Yuusuke. There's someone waiting for me."

Yuusuke grinned, unfazed. "Geez, Hiei, always cranky and in a hurry. Who's waiting for you, anyway? I thought the almighty Hiei didn't need friends." He pulled a piece of paper towards him and began filling it out.

"It's none of your business."

"Fine, fine. Where were you, and why didn't you return to the barracks?" he asked, ink brush hovering over the paper.

"I slept in a bar, because there was a snowstorm." Yuusuke nodded and wrote it down, then signed his name at the bottom and handed it to Hiei, who tucked it in his cloak. He turned to go as Yuusuke stretched behind him.

"Y'know, I'm surprised the generals don't get annoyed at you for spending so much time outside of the barracks."

Hiei snorted. "It's not as though every other soldier isn't doing the same."

"Yeah, I guess…oh, and speaking of generals, did you hear the news? Some big shots are finally coming to the capital—I hear they were the original leaders of the revolution and everything. Wonder if it's true."

Hiei put his hand on the door, impatient to leave. "Why should it matter?"

"Well, if they're really here to clean up and be leaders and stuff, then we could finally pull out and get our asses home. I mean, hell, we've been fighting for a long time now, dontcha think?"

Hiei stood still, his back to Yuusuke, no longer as hurried as he had been seconds ago. "Hn," he said finally, pushing the door open and leaving without another word. Yuusuke, who was used to his behavior by now, merely shrugged and tried to go back to sleep.

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Hiei walked down the hallway and the formerly grand staircase at a measured pace, giving himself time to think. What Yuusuke had said was indeed news to him, and he wasn't quite sure what to make of it. A week ago—even a day ago, he would have welcomed it, the opportunity to finally get out of this devastated city, even though it meant going back to the mountains, where there was little to do but farm and hunt.

A smooth departure was out of the question now. In one night, Hiei had successfully gained a liability and a responsibility. He was no coward, and once he embarked on a course, he would see it to its end, no matter what the consequences.

Though truth be told, he had not been thinking about any negative consequences when he'd kissed Kurama last night and this morning. It had seemed so natural, so instinctive, in fact, that he had reacted without thinking at all, both times. It had been a long time since he'd had a lover, and Kurama had not objected, even though they were both male, something that might have bothered others.

But maybe he had been thinking of something—after all, he'd pulled away abruptly and without reason. Mulling it over as he'd tried to go back to sleep, he'd wondered why. He hadn't taken advantage of Kurama or done anything wrong, in point of fact. But he'd felt his subconscious urging him to stop.

Hiei shook off the questions, leaving them to be answered later, if necessary. He pushed open the tall wooden doors and left, eyes automatically sweeping over the snow-covered steps. They widened fractionally at what he saw.

Kurama was gone.

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The floor of the room where Kurama was held captive was made of wood—rough, cold and uncomfortable. When he regained consciousness, he found that his hands and feet had been bound and a wad of cloth stuffed into his mouth. He was facing the crude wooden door and could hear the conversation that was taking place beyond it.

"—fetch a good price. It's rare for them to—"

"—pretty one too. I know a good slaver who needs—"

"Why don't we keep him for a while? He'll be fun to play with." With a chill, Kurama recognized the voice as Gouki's.

"Play with? Oh, c'mon, it's not like you don't get the whores every night at—"

"Yeah, besides, did you see that cloak? He's a goddamn aristocrat or something."

Gouki chuckled. "So what? He'll be better than those cheap girls."

Kurama shuddered, not wanting to hear any more. Their conversation continued in a similar manner for a few minutes, interspersed with laughter, until abruptly, it stopped. Kurama lifted his head from the floor and listened questioningly, wondering what had happened.

Without warning, an explosion sounded outside, followed by the shouts and cursing of Gouki and his companions.

"What the fuck is—" There was a gasp, as though someone had just been punched, then a grunt and a thud.

"H-hey, look, we didn't mean t—" Two more explosions cut off the speaker's plea.

"Who are these?"

"Saa ne. Where did they put that boy?"

Kurama drew back from the door, tense. Who was out there?

"There's another door here." Kurama watched as the doorknob refused to yield.

"It's locked."

"Move, then. I'll do it." There was the sound of boots clicking on wood.

The door smashed into pieces, the wood flying all over the room. Kurama dropped his head and squeezed his eyes shut, unable to shield himself with his arm. When the fragments had settled, he looked up.

Two men stood in the doorway, one of them braced in a fighting stance, his fist still in the follow-through motion after delivering a punch. He had long black hair and wore a deep gray cloak over robes of bluish gray, belted with a white sash. His eyes were closed, though not to shield himself as Kurama had. He was blind.

The man next to him also had long black hair, though his was better-kept and silkier. Purple eyes shone out of a face that was partly covered by a silver mask, and he wore a black cloak that completely covered his robes.

"Hello," this man said. "I am Karasu."

—to be continued—

Saa ne—I don't know.

Notes: It could have been better. I have a bad feeling that "Wildfire" is going to be neglected, but I'm going to try and work on both. Until next time!