I'll keep the notes short, because no one likes to read these things anyway ;)

Happy Birthday to me! Here's my present to you. Don't ask me how old I am--suffice it to say, I'm probably about twice the age of my average reader (if not more).

Wow…I'm so flattered you guys! 45 reviews (for only 3 chapters), and most of them from the same people. I really appreciate it! Especially since I know how easy it is to abandon reading a story when the author is such a slacker and seems to take forever to update! I promise I will get this story finished eventually--nothing ticks me off quite like getting into a story and then the author never finishes it, so I promise I'll do my best not to do the same to you all.

Which reminds me--sorry I have not responded to any of the questions posted in the reviews. I keep forgetting to answer them. If you don't want an answer (i.e.: you're just asking a rhetorical question or posting "food for thought")--good! Then I didn't hurt anybody's feelings by not responding. And I'm always open to suggestions. If you do want a genuine answer, though, its best to email me directly. Thanks!

Thanks to Niyali-chan for being my beta reader.

Continuity note: After starting to watch Chapter Black on Cartoon Network, I realized Kurama's mother didn't remarry between the Dark Tournament and Chapter Black sagas (which is when I set this story). Heck, for all I know (which is, admittedly, very little), Kurama's stepfather could be a real jerk, too. It kind of irks me to be out of step with the canon, but…can we all just file this factoid under "artistic license" rather than "author too lazy to change it?" ;) Thanks!

Disclaimer: My Magic 8 Ball still says its not mine. Damn…

"Well…let's see what we have here…"

"I appreciate you coming, Dr. Tsunoda," Shiori stammered, lingering nervously by the door, "I must have caused quite a stir banging on your door like that."

"Not a problem," the doctor breezily assured her as he circled Kurama's bed and set his bag on the floor. "We're neighbors, after all. You're lucky you caught me when you did--I was just on my way out the door to go to work."

Hiei held his breath as Tsunoda passed his hiding spot. Apprehension gave way to annoyance as the man sat on the edge of the bed--that tubby bastard was blocking his view. Thankfully, it was only momentary as the doctor shifted Kurama's dead weight to the center of the bed, re-establishing Hiei's view of the fox demon.

"Oh!…I…"

"Don't apologize."

"But--"

"I won't be late. I was going in early to catch up on some paperwork. This is more important. Hmmm…a little help here?" He gently nudged Shiori, sensing her anxiety and trying to shake her from her helpless stupor. It worked. Shiori quit her nervous pacing and joined the doctor at her son's bedside, assisting him in untangling Kurama from his sheets. She sat opposite the doctor, which blocked Hiei's view…again.

Grumbling silently to himself, Hiei navigated the cramped closet space to adjust his view. He nearly stumbled over Kurama's shoes, but seized a fistful of hanging shirts, using them as leverage to regain his wobbly balance. He glared at the big, clumsy human shoes as if they had intentionally tripped him and could perceive his aggravation. What was the point to such clunky footwear, anyway? And these damn shirts--how many did Kurama really need? Hiei made a mental note to tell Kurama his closet needed cleaning…badly.

"He's so pale…" Shiori fretted, drawing Hiei's attention back to the matter at hand. She stroked Kurama's cheek.

"Mmm…hmmm…" Dr. Tsunoda mulled, palming Kurama's forehead. He popped open his bag and pulled out a small, L-shaped instrument, inserting the short end of it into Kurama's ear. A small click as he pulled the trigger-like button…a soft beep…the doctor checked the digital display. "No fever…a little low, in fact, but nothing too discouraging." A thermometer. Hiei was used to seeing the glass cylinders with the shiny liquid mercury inside. He never could understand why humans would willingly stick toxic metal into their mouths with only a thin--and easily breakable--tube of glass protecting them.

Tsunoda set the thermometer back in the bag and pulled a penlight out of his shirt pocket. Peeling open one of Kurama's eyes with his fingers, he pulsed the light several times. From his vantage point in the closet, Hiei could barely see the whites of Kurama's eyes, much less their usual glassy green luminescence or any indication of what Tsunoda was looking for. On the third or fourth flash, Kurama suddenly jerked his head away, softly moaning in protest.

"Shuichi?" Shiori asked, squeezing his hand.

Kurama sighed lightly in response as his head lolled off to the side once again. His fingers curled slightly around hers before going limp. "Shuichi? Please sweetie…wake up," she implored.

With a patient, reassuring smile, Tsunoda pried Kurama's hand out of his mother's. He held Kurama's wrist by two fingers while watching the time tick by on his watch. A full minute passed in maddening silence--a very long minute for a cramped, cranky fire demon lurking in the closet.

Silently, he laid Kurama's hand down across his stomach, and Dr. Tsunoda began rummaging through his bag again. "Shiori…that issue you and Hatanaka raised at dinner a few nights ago…has it gotten any better?"

Shiori's eyes fell.

"I see…" he hedged, obviously betting ready to broach a delicate subject. "And the prescription I have you…did you…?"

She nodded. "Last night."

He nodded sympathetically. "It's for the best. I know you both were adverse to the idea, and you weren't sure how receptive he'd be, but I'm glad Shuichi--"

"He didn't know," she muttered softly.

"What?"

"He didn't know," she repeated a bit louder, red creeping into her cheeks. "Kazuya slipped it into a glass of juice." Her eyes drifted guiltily to the empty glass still perched on Kurama's nightstand.

If the doctor disapproved, he certainly didn't show it. "I see…" Hiei snorted. "I see" apparently meant Tsunoda didn't know what to say but felt the need to say something useless rather than let awkward silence reign. He would have simply told Shiori how stupid and foolish they had been. Kurama deserved better than such childish coddling and deception.

"It's just that--" she stammered.

"No. No need to explain," the doctor cut her off with a dismissive wave, finally producing the instrument for which he had been rummaging. "What time did he take it?" he continued, slipping the stethoscope around his neck.

"He took them around ten, I guess."

Dr. Tsunoda's brow furrowed as he checked his watch. "It's well after noon…" He paused, a sudden flash of insight illuminating his features. "Wait…did you say them?"

Shiori gaped at him quizzically. "Yes…?"

"How many?" he pressed.

"Two…" her voice faltered even more as realization started to sink in.

The thin veneer of Tsunoda's patient, professional façade cracked, now revealing an extremely concerned family friend. "Damn…one…only one…" He frowned. "Any vomiting?" he fired the question at her, his abruptness catching her slightly off-guard. "Vomiting?" he repeated, more urgently. She nodded no. "Good. Seizures?" Again, no. His eyes bored into her. "Are you sure? Absolutely sure?"

Shiori nodded numbly. "I was with him all night." She blinked rapidly, tears welling in her eyes. "It's my fault…it's all my fault…" she whimpered.

"It's okay…it's okay…" Tsunoda tried to assure her, realizing he had crossed the line and upset Shiori more than was necessary. "They were mild sedatives. He should be okay." His voice had a wary--cautious--edge to it. He threaded the stethoscope into his ears. "But let's have a listen, just in case, okay?" Reaching to unbutton Kurama's shirt, he registered genuine surprise--shock, even--as Shiori's hands intercepted his with viper-like speed.

"Wait…" she stammered, wavering under Tsunoda's questioning stare. "It's…well…it's just that Shuichi is…he's so private…modest…Certainly you understand…"

The doctor chuckled, sincerely amused and peeled his hands away from hers. "Boys his age can be that way. But, really, Shiori--I'm a professional. It's not like it's anything I haven't seen before."

I'll bet it isn't. Hiei sneered from his hiding spot. By the time Karasu had finished with him, Kurama's torso looked like raw, chopped meat. Or so Hiei had heard--he wasn't actually awake when they assessed the damage and dressed Kurama's wounds. But he knew the recollection of the image produced an eerie, uncharacteristic pensiveness in Yusuke and clouded the teen's eyes. Kind of similar to the look in Shiori's eyes now. Had she seen it too?

"Shiori, please," the doctor urged, sounding more serious and slightly exasperated as he placed his hand reassuringly over hers. "We're talking a probable overdose here. We don't have time to argue over Shuichi's modesty."

Reluctantly, Shiori released the fabric she clutched protectively. She nervously bit her lip as Tsunoda unbuttoned and smoothed open Kurama's shirt.

Hiei hissed appreciatively. Kurama's skin was smooth. Completely healed. From where he sat, Hiei couldn't even see the faintest trace of scarring, even with his razor-sharp demon eyesight. The "lazy fox" hadn't been as lazy as Hiei presumed--obviously he had been spending a lot of time and energy healing himself in the past few weeks. Such significant healing in such a short period of time took talent. And came at a high price. Combined with his exhaustion from the tournament, the extensive nature of his wounds and his apparent insomnia since, it was no wonder Kurama was tired and unable to wake from his drug-induced slumber. It was nothing short of a miracle he was able to function at all.

Even Shiori seemed astonished as she traced a finger along the thin, protruding line of Kurama's collarbone.

"Something wrong?" the doctor asked, placing his stethoscope against Kurama's chest.

"Huh? Oh…um…no…it's nothing."

Dr. Tsunoda nodded distractedly, listening to several more areas on Kurama's torso rather than Shiori's answer. He reached under Kurama's shoulder and hoisted him into a sitting position. Shiori caught her son across the chest as his head and shoulders slumped forward, threatening to topple him over. The stethoscope snaked under the back of Kurama's pajamas, padding across his skin several times before Tsunoda eased him back down on the bed. He placed the instrument in the center of Kurama's chest again, his brow furrowing slightly.

Now it was Shiori's turn to ask: "Is something wrong?"

"Well…" he removed the stethoscope from his ears, "his breathing is ok--a bit more shallow than I would prefer--but steady. However, his heart--" Shiori blanched. "I'm sure its nothing to worry about," Tsunoda quickly interjected, "but there's a slight…irregularity. It's beating strong--which is good," Hiei noted the emphasis on "good" as the doctor scrambled to ease Shiori's concern, "but…well…uneven. It's steady, but the cadence is slightly 'off'… if that makes any sense to you. I've never heard anything like it."

"Oh?" Shiori seemed to relax a bit, but Hiei still sensed an edge in her voice. "Like a heart murmur?"

"Almost…but not quite. You've heard it, I take it?"

Shiori forced a knowing smile. "Well, 'heart murmur' is what his pediatricians called it when they couldn't find any other explanation. He's had it since birth."

"I see." Hiei clenched his jaw at the utterance of that tiresome phrase. "And they didn't want to study it further?"

"Of course they did. But it really wasn't affecting his health any, and I didn't want Shuichi spending his childhood in and out of hospitals to satisfy their curiosity--"

"But it's really an odd rhythm, Shiori. Almost…well...not human… Have you ever heard a dog's heartbeat?"

Apprehension momentarily flashed across Shiori's eyes. "No…we didn't keep animals when I was young. And Shuichi never expressed an interest in pets--only plants," she recovered quickly--perhaps a talent she picked up from her son? Or vice versa? "Besides," Shiori busied herself re-buttoning Kurama's shirt to conceal the slight shaking of her hands, "it improved as he got older. It really has evened out…"

Hiei snickered. He always knew Kurama's heart would eventually betray him--just as it had betrayed Hiei when they first conspired to steal the Artifacts of Darkness. However, this wasn't quite how he envisioned it would happen--the human heart inside the demon should have been his downfall, not the demon heart inside the human. The irony was delicious. Or would have been, had not some other nagging feeling been tugging on the fringes of his conscience.

"Okay, then. If you don't think it's anything to be overly concerned about, then we probably don't need to bring him in. As I said earlier, it looks like an overdose. Next time one pill. Only one."

"There won't be a next time."

"Never say never," Dr. Tsunoda smiled patronizingly. "Anyway, the sedatives were fairly mild, as sedatives go, and it has been awhile, so he should be alright. I think it will be ok to let him sleep it off. Just in case, though…" he held up the stethoscope for Shiori to see, then deliberately set it on Kurama's nightstand, "I'm sure you know how this works. Check on him at least every 30 minutes. If anything changes--his breathing becomes shallow, his heart speeds up or slows down--or if he starts having seizures or vomiting, I want you to get him to the hospital immediately. Call an ambulance, then call me, ok?"

Shiori nodded obediently as the doctor packed his bag and rose to leave. "I think he'll be okay. You did the right thing," he repeated, smiling warmly at Shiori and gently ruffling Kurama's hair. As an afterthought, Dr. Tsunoda adjusted Kurama to a side-sleeping position and pulled the covers up around the sleeping teenager. "Make sure Shuichi sleeps on his side, in case he does start throwing up. He will probably still be pretty groggy when he wakes--possibly a bit nauseated, achy and complaining of a monstrous headache. Plenty of fluids--water, juice, no soda. And see that he eats something. A bland diet is best until his stomach settles. I'll be by later tonight to check on him, alright?"

"Yes, thank you."

"I'll see myself out."

"No…I'll see you out. It's the least I can do," Shiori rose, taking the doctor politely by the arm and escorting him into the hallway.

"That won't be necessary…" His mild protests and resulting murmured reassurances from Shiori followed the two of them down the stairs as they left.

Like a rabbit sprung from a trap, Hiei bolted from the cramped, stuffy closet. A slight tingling in his left leg erupted into full-blown pins-and-needles, causing his leg to buckle under the uncomfortable prickling pain. Hiei glared menacingly at the closet, as if it had intentionally attacked and had been responsible for his leg falling asleep. Next time he was hiding under the bed. No…next time they could just deal with his presence. Let Kurama explain it. Stupid fox…this was all his fault anyway. If he'd clean out his closet once in awhile…

Still grumbling to himself, Hiei limped over to Kurama's bed, muttering curses with each tentative, tingly step. He looked down on the sleeping teenager. Kurama looked almost peaceful. A quick energy scan convinced Hiei that he was, in fact, sleeping peacefully for the first time since Hiei's arrival last night. No spikes of energy from a tormented psyche plagued by horrific nightmares. No rippling undercurrents of a tired mind struggling for consciousness against a body that would not wake. Even the color was beginning to return to his pallid cheeks. Meanwhile, Hiei gingerly hopped on and off his left foot, waiting for the stabbing pain to subside.

"Wake up," Hiei growled, wanting to impart some of his suffering onto Kurama. No answer. He grabbed Kurama's shoulder and shook it. "Wake up," he repeated impatiently. Still no answer.

Disgusted, Hiei turned to leave. He'd have to chastise Kurama another day. He only made it three steps before a low, pained moan emanated from Kurama's bed. Glancing over his shoulder, Hiei noticed Kurama had rolled over onto his stomach. He trudged back to the bed and pushed Kurama back onto his side. His efforts were met with a sloppy, weak swat at his hand.

"Go 'way…" Kurama groaned, burying his face in his pillow and attempting to roll back onto his stomach.

"You need to stay on your side," Hiei instructed gruffly, trying not to sound too concerned (but sounding much harsher than he would have preferred) as he shoved Kurama back again.

"Quit 't…" Kurama resisted, compelling Hiei to drop his center of gravity and put more force behind his push.

"Quit being so stubborn," Hiei snapped. He was practically nose to nose with Kurama when the smallest sliver of glittering green peeked out from under heavy eyelids and locked on him.

"Hiei?" Kurama slurred and furrowed his brow as if trying to comprehend the sight before him, not sure if he was still dreaming. "What're you doin'…?"

The second time the question was asked, it was a shrill, panicked female voice piercing the room.

"What are you doing to my son?"