Disclaimer: life sucks, then you die.

Fall

In a distorted loophole in time
The knife that stabbed me in the back gives me wings
And I keep looking up the sky

Gackt, "Secret Garden" (translated)

Chapter Six: Necessary Lives

Kurama tried to tug his head back, away from Hiei's firm grip, but it was a little too firm, or he was a little too weak. He tried closing his eyes instead, but Hiei would have none of that—a vicious shake prompted his reflexes to open his eyes for him. Even so, he could stubbornly refuse to speak…but what good would that do either of them? Kurama knew Hiei would find a way to make him say it eventually, make him say why he had done what he had done, much less how. Wouldn't it be better to simply give in? The act had never gotten him anywhere in life before, but then, he'd never quite felt these kinds of feelings, exactly, for his tormentor. Not really. Not truly.

Not like a stupid little schoolgirl, he snapped at himself as his thoughts wobbled off on a little tangent. He'd never felt romantic love before, and that was that. He knew it all—he loved Hiei and Hiei loved him, to be simple—but wouldn't do anything about it. No, not a thing. Not just yet.

"How did you do it?" Hiei asked, his tone leaving no room for discussion, much less resistance. Kurama's eyes darted around nervously and he felt his breathing become slowly stronger with the offending plants removed from his neck.

"I…" he trailed off, not entirely sure how to begin. Hiei saw progress and didn't push it, thankfully, letting Kurama take time to collect his thoughts before continuing. This sort of thing had happened once before, he remembered, in a less masochistic way. A fitting example, anyway.

"Do you remember," he said softly, his words coming out slower than he intended as he continued to heal, "when we fought in the Black Martial Arts Tournament, and I had a match with the Shinobi Gama and Touya?"

Hiei nodded mutely, as though under the impression that his words would disrupt Kurama's thoughts and prompt him to stop speaking entirely. He did distinctly remember that fight; it had been most interesting, and he had almost, almost feared for Kurama's life.

Kurama smiled grimly. "Well. Then you remember that I can call upon my weapons without the use of my hands?"

Nodding again, Hiei became more sure of his initial thoughts on how Kurama had managed the most interesting feat of almost killing himself without alerting Hiei to the fact. The way he saw it, there was only one way it could have happened, anyway.

"It was simple, though it took awhile," Kurama said. "Not only do I store the Grass of Death with all my others, but I was, you'll remember, lying on the ground—on the grass, to be precise. Perhaps you remember my occasional use of a Grass Leaf Blade in medical processes?"

Hiei nodded again. He was certain he was right, but he needed Kurama to try and rationalize it to both Hiei and himself.

"You can guess what happened next…" Kurama finished, his head turning aside as Hiei finally released him to cross his own arms.

"I could guess what happened throughout the whole thing," Hiei said. "That wasn't the point of this. I want you to say it to both me and yourself. I want your explanation, your rationale. Not mine."

Kurama looked back at Hiei with his eyes dark, showing many things. These were the eyes of one who had lived to see many things no man should ever see. These were the eyes of one who had done things no man should ever do. These were the eyes of one who was tired of life, and tired of living. These were the eyes of one who did not think that love was enough to save him.

Hiei remembered when he had thought such things. He still did, for the most part, but he had also learned that sometimes, though love was not enough to save a person, it was enough to keep him going for a little bit longer. If it happened often enough, that love was good enough to get him a little bit farther, then he would make it all the way to the end. Hiei didn't want Kurama to stop his life up, not just yet, but he didn't know if he could show the fox that without breaking something important, something valuable. Something he might not even know existed, much less the precise identity of.

All these thoughts transpired in a mere instant, or even a fraction of one, but Kurama felt closer to Hiei than he ever had before as he showed Hiei the torments he harbored. Hiei, though he did not wish to, felt farther from Kurama than he ever had before as he realized how hopeless, or even heartless Kurama had, and continued to become.

"My life holds no thrill," Kurama said, stopping himself from calling it "meaning." Hiei would certainly argue with that, or even declare his love right then, which was certainly not befitting. "I take no pleasure in living, only pain. Why not put myself out of this misery?"

Hiei stared, though a part of him had expected that answer. He could think of only one thing to say, to which he also knew the answer but wished to hear it confirmed: "How did you do it?"

With a small sigh, Kurama admitted to himself that it didn't really matter how he had done it. Hiei knew anyway, and now it was only filler. Why not explain his masterful plan?

"I used the grass beneath me as a blade," he said, his voice now almost its normal volume. "Cutting a small hole in the back of my neck, I gave myself the opening in my skin necessary to plant the Grass of Death."

Hiei looked down at Kurama with disappointment clear in his gaze. Kurama tried not to look at him, for he was beginning to feel guilty, which was something he certainly did not need.

"Using the same technique I did in my fight against Touya, I forced the Grass of Death into my bloodstream and grew it," Kurama finished, his voice lowering again, though this time not out of necessity. Hiei closed his eyes and shook his head; this was truly a difficult story to listen to.

"You didn't notice because I was speaking of my own suicide in cryptic terms and you were trying to decipher them," Kurama added at the last moment, trying to spare Hiei some dignity. "Not only that, my energy was weak and distorted; you had no reason to suspect, or at least sense that I was doing something strange."

Frowning bitterly, Hiei wished he knew how to cry. He had seen other people do it, and it never seemed very hard. He had spent so much of his life forcing himself not to cry, it seemed he had never done it properly. He built another brick in the wall of self-hatred and tried not to think about it much.

"Why not simply activate the Grass of Death right away?" Hiei asked, determined to discuss something other than himself. "I couldn't have done anything once you'd said the keyword. Why bother drawing it out?"

Kurama smiled bitterly and his eyes became shaded. "I don't know," he said. "Masochism, maybe; wanting to prolong my own suffering. Sadism, even, wanting you to suffer for something you didn't do. Or maybe I just didn't feel deserving of a quick death. Whatever it was, I think it's still inside of me."

Hiei heaved a long breath at Kurama's unintended wordplay. "Wanting you to suffer for something you didn't do." Wanting him to suffer, although the thing was not his fault? Or was it wanting him to suffer for something he could have done, but had not? Or both? And what could he have done that he hadn't? Visit more? Reveal his driving love? No, Kurama didn't know how he felt. This was a stupid discussion to have with himself.

Although it did bring about some…interesting questions.


Kuwabara and Yûsuke knelt beside one another on the long stone pathway before Koenma's office. Each alternately coughed and retched after the spiraling ride Botan had given them, both trying to shove their own stomachs back down their throats. Finally, Yûsuke rose shakily to his feet and glared pointedly at one blue haired ferry girl, but stalked past her and banged on Koenma's door.

"Open up!" he snapped into the intercom, jabbing the dull red button fiercely. Kuwabara stood behind him, leaning on the wall, and called a rousing "Hurry it up!"

Sure enough, the doors opened and Yûsuke and Kuwabara followed Botan to her boss's office. The ogres bustling about and waving paper everywhere were nowhere near as disorienting and surprising as they had been the first time Yûsuke had seen them. Jorge was nowhere in sight, but that wasn't at all unusual; he was probably suffering Koenma's every whim in the demigod's office.

In a matter of minutes—really they were probably seconds, but Yûsuke was being jostled around so much that the time felt longer after it was over—Botan was rapping sharply on Koenma's door.

"Koenma, sir?" she called loudly. "Koenma, sir, it's Botan! I've got some visitors here to see you!"

A long pause ensued before the buzzer shrilled in response as the door opened on Koenma's reddened face and heavily inked hands. Kuwabara smothered a laugh.

"I haven't got time for oh hello, Yûsuke—Kuwabara—and…what are you doing here?"

This was all said very quickly and Yûsuke and Kuwabara each took a moment and exchanged a glance as they pieced it together.

"Standing?" Kuwabara tried. Koenma shook his head and looked at the pair of them dully. Yûsuke grinned broadly to make up for the sudden lack of emotion in the room.

Sensing danger, Botan butted in with an overwhelming amount of cheer. "Koenma, sir!" she said exuberantly. "Would you believe that after all this time—I mean, all this time—Yûsuke's communicator still works perfectly! And so, I was sitting around chatting with Ayame and the other girls when all of a sudden—completely out of nowhere, I tell you—my communicator rings off the hook! So of course, I ignore it for awhile because I figure it's some prank or something, but then I hear, of all things, Yûsuke's voice! Out of thin air, I swear. He screams for me, what was it Yûsuke, three times? And so I figure, hey, I'd better pop in and see what he wants!" Botan laughed in a falsely cheerful way, covering something akin to nervousness. "So what do you think of that, eh? Go figure!"

Koenma blinked at her. Yûsuke and Kuwabara wisely took a step back, then another, as Koenma let this information filter through his brain. His reaction could range anywhere from "Pleased to see them" to "What the fuck?"

"All right…" he said finally, which seemed to be a good sign. "Botan, why are they here?"

"Eh…heh."

Yûsuke chose this opportune moment to insert himself into the conversation. Nothing could get much worse, he figured—it wasn't so bad, anyway.

"Where's Kurama?" he asked pointedly. "I'd ask where Hiei was, but I'm betting they're together."

At this, Koenma balked. Surely—surely Yûsuke had other methods of tracking the two demons. An entire network of Raizen's old supporters simply waiting for him to return and ask a favor. Kuwabara's extraordinary senses which had increased even since his days as a detective. Something other than Koenma himself. That was like finding an old phone number that he hadn't called in years and deciding to give it a ring and ask a favor. Never mind that Koenma was spending a great deal of time looking for the demonic duo on his own—never mind that their goals were the same. The fact that Yûsuke and Kuwabara would so forcefully barge into his office and demand to know Kurama's and Hiei's locations was preposterous!

…maybe not quite preposterous, but somewhere up there. And maybe they hadn't quite barged in or demanded an answer, but he was frustrated, damn it, and he wanted answers just as badly as they did. He just didn't want to send out a search party.

"You come to me asking that?" Koenma said finally, raising his eyebrows. "No network of informants of your own?"

Yûsuke glowered. "You know damn well my informants are living on their own now, or working for Enki. Point being, they're not my informants anymore, if they're anyone's."

"Right, that."

Kuwabara stepped forward quietly, his eyes shadowed. "We can't find them, can we?" he said morosely.

Waiving his stubby arms frantically, Koenma shook his head. "No, no! We can find them! It's just a matter of time, really it is."

Yûsuke, Botan, and Kuwabara shared a smirk before turning it on Koenma himself.

"Well, then," Kuwabara declared, "keep looking."

Koenma put his face in his hands and suppressed a scream.


Why, Hiei wondered, did Kurama want him to suffer for anything? What had he done or not done? Was it worth it to ask? Could he afford not to ask? He frowned. Being in love with someone who was going out of his mind was so confusing.

He elected to say nothing and hope Kurama was in the mood to elaborate. Kurama only looked at him curiously.

"You aren't going to make some valiant effort to discover what's wrong with me?" he asked with no small amount of derision. Hiei shook his head.

"I'm not some noble, love-struck prince bound to save his princess, and there's certainly no horrible evil possessing you, anyway. Why would I pry into matters you obviously don't want me to concern myself with?"

Kurama hid a small smile. "Did you just admit that Youko Kurama is not a horrible evil?"

Hiei frowned. "Did you just imply that Youko Kurama is possessing you?"

"Ah, touché."

"Hm."

Hiei liked the humor Kurama seemed to be getting from his interpreting Hiei's words in a way he had not intended—that took a wily sort of intellect. He did not, however, approve of the way Kurama had twisted around their meaning. It had been a long while since Hiei had last expressed distrust of the fox living inside Minamino Shûichi's body, and since relied on Youko many times at the risk of his own life. Kurama had no reason to suspect that he still thought Youko was evil.

Every step forward was a step back, Hiei mused, and so they were getting absolutely nowhere. Well, maybe not nowhere, but the going was slow, wherever they were at the moment.

And, he realized, he had almost lied to Kurama just then. "I'm not some noble, love-struck prince," he had said. It was true he was not a prince, nor especially noble, but he was certainly love-struck. He hoped Kurama wouldn't realize that from his words. Best not to be too frantic, or it would start to show on his face.

Come to think of it, he didn't know why lying to Kurama bothered him so much. Lying had always been a talent of his; why not now? Well, he had done it well enough, he just didn't like it. Was that simply another side effect of being in love? Hiei frowned again. They needed to find another lackey of Miru's, or maybe a run-of-the-mill demon to get his mind off of these things. A good fight would surely distract him.

"Awfully glum, aren't we?" Kurama said in a purposefully cheerful tone as he sat up and crossed his legs. Hiei looked at him cock-eyed and put his hand on his hip.

"I don't believe you are giving off that aura," he said slowly. "And since when have you deemed my normal state of things 'glum'?"

Kurama giggled, and Hiei blinked. "Oh, you know, since just now. It suits you, I think."

Stopping any and all movement, Hiei looked at Kurama blankly. Finally, he thought he needed to say…something.

"Do you smell that?"

"Hm?" Kurama asked, his eyes oddly bright and even childish. "Smell what?"

Pointedly, Hiei sniffed the air. "The blood. The air is full of the stench." He sighed and smiled a little. "Makes me feel right at home. What do you think?"

"Um…" Kurama sniffed audibly and Hiei tried not to get his hopes up. The blood had worked before, it would work again. There was nothing to "hope" about. He simply had to know.

"I think that's a disgusting thought," Kurama offered. Hiei felt his stomach twist around and his heart clench—Kurama really was going a little bit crazy.

"…but I think you're right."

Resisting the urge to sigh deeply in relief, Hiei easily suppressed a small smile and simply nodded.

"How do you feel?" he asked. He hoped Kurama would answer the way he needed him to, or they would never get going again.

Kurama put a finger to his chin thoughtfully. "Physically or emotionally?"

Why not kill two birds with one stone? "Both."

"Hum…physically, my neck is burning right badly. Feels like the veins are trying to pull themselves apart."

Hiei turned his face aside as he smirked. "Aside from that."

"Aside from that, physically fine. Emotionally, a little tired. Kind of stressed. I've almost managed to forget why we're here."

"Oh, you can't have—"

Raising a hand, Kurama halted Hiei's words in their tracks. "I said 'almost.' Speaking of which, we'd better get going, eh?"

"It would be a better idea if we knew where to go, don't you think?" Hiei asked dryly. Kurama smiled deviously.

"You forget," he said, standing and brushing dirt from his slacks, "I've got a built-in Miru Sensor."

Rolling his eyes, Hiei stood as well. A Miru Sensor. That was exactly what he needed: ridiculous nicknames for nonexistent tracking devices. Oh, well, he thought as he stubbornly didn't shrug. At least Kurama was back on the right track…though, he mused, he would need to look further into the notion of suppressed and dormant suicidal wishes. Kurama might be a ticking time bomb, but he was damned if he was going to let his friend explode.


Koenma's futile search had been going on for some time, and many ogres had come running in and out at his command. Yûsuke and Kuwabara were growing restless and impatient, and Botan had long since determined this to be Not Her Job and left. Koenma himself wasn't sure why he was so determined to find the pair of demons; they were out of his jurisdiction and his employment, and he didn't really like Hiei. But, he reminded himself, both Yûsuke and Kuwabara had been friends and teammates of Hiei's and Kurama's and they liked them both, and they wouldn't leave or let Koenma stop looking until he found them. He swore under his breath. Damn determination to choose such stubborn detectives.

"Hey, Koenma," Yûsuke said suddenly, sitting up a little straighter where he was lounging on the floor. Koenma looked down at him—he had long since gotten over the glee at being so much higher up than his two companions—and raised an eyebrow.

"I'd thank you not to precede your comment with such rudeness," he said dryly, "but what do you want?"

Rolling his eyes, Yûsuke raised himself to a kneel. "How did you track us all when we were detectives? You know, when we had missions in Makai and stuff like that. Like when we were in the Four Holy Beasts' castle."

Koenma nodded; he knew exactly what Yûsuke was referring to. Unfortunately, that didn't mean it would help them now. "Right, that. Well, you see, I can only track energies, not people—"

"So track Kurama's or Hiei's energy," Kuwabara interrupted as Yûsuke nodded in agreement. "You've done it before, right? It can't be too hard."

Glowering, Koenma shook his head. "Unfortunately, it can and it is. Hiei reflexively cloaks his own energy, which is why it's so difficult to find him when missions come around. A side effect of his traumatic life, I suppose. Kurama's energy might be located with some effort on a good day, but he's so distraught right now that even if I could find his energy—which is always difficult—I couldn't be sure it was really his, and it probably wouldn't stay on one wavelength for very long."

Yûsuke cursed and kicked Koenma's desk. Kuwabara stuffed his hands into his pockets and frowned deeply at the ground, screwing up his face in frustration.

"Well…" Yûsuke began, and Koenma could tell he would be groping for straws, whatever he said.

"Yes?"

"Um…got anyone you could send off to look for them?"

Koenma rested his chin in his hands. Somehow, hearing someone else say it made it more plausible…


Note: To anyone who has not seen Kurama's fights with Gama and Touya during the Black Martial Arts Tournament, here is all you need to know for this story: Kurama couldn't use his spiritual energy due to a previous fight with Touya's teammate, Gama. Manipulating his own energy during the fight with Gama, he wrapped his Rose Whip around his hair and used that instead of his hands to snap the whip and kill Gama. Unfortunately, he couldn't use the same trick against Touya because Gama had used a final curse to trap Kurama's energy inside of body so he couldn't use the Rose Whip maneuver anymore. Kurama sowed the Grass of Death inside a long gash in his arm so that the plant could take root in his energy without his energy having to leave his body—the plant contacted his energy through his bloodstream. He then grew the Grass of Death around his arm and stabbed Touya with it to knock him out. He proceeded to spend a great deal of time removing the Grass of Death from his body, which leads me to believe that its short-term effects are far from fatal when it is used in this manner. However, Hiei certainly did not remove it gently or slowly, which may cause some problems later on. Hint, hint. But then again, it may not; maybe Kurama's just being paranoid in taking so much care to get it out. Hint, hint.

Note: If you can't, or simply don't feel like piecing that together with Kurama's brief summary of his actions in this story, here's basically what happened: Kurama cut a little hole in his neck by using the grass he was lying on as a blade. He could then implant the Grass of Death into his body without moving and giving away too much of what he was doing. (The same way he manipulated the rose seed mentioned above without his hands, he manipulated the Grass of Death.) After a little while, giving the Grass of Death time to take root (this time covered up by his mutterings, which explains, in part, why Hiei didn't notice the Grass of Death), he could cause it to grow and infect his body. This occurred at about the time Hiei pieced together what Kurama's mutterings were alluding to; the Grass of Death had time to take root and begin its work, but not quite enough time to kill Kurama without the keyword's activation (the keyword being, of course, "die").

If you aren't aware of how the Grass of Death works, Kurama needs to sow it into his enemy's body, allow it time to take root, and then say the word "Die" to activate it. This causes the plant to explode into a large, beautiful rose which completely overtakes and destroys the opponent's body.

Note: To the best of my knowledge, any instances in which we see Kurama perform medical processes do not include his use of a "Grass Leaf Blade." I invented it under the assumption that Kurama, being able to make any plant into a weapon, could easily make something so simple as a blade of grass into a knife, or a knife-like object—at least something with sharp edges.

Note: For clarification, the romance stands as such: Hiei knows he loves Kurama and highly suspects Kurama loves him as well, but is not certain and is afraid that bringing up the topic will have a negative effect on Kurama's mentality. Kurama knows he loves Hiei and knows Hiei loves him in return, but does not want to tell Hiei that he loves him nor does he want Hiei to tell Kurama that he loves him at the wrong moment (i.e., prompted). Also, Hiei does not know that Kurama knows Hiei loves him. (Did you get that? I think that was actually mentioned in the story, oddly enough.)

Note: I am aware that the Demon Realm Tournament was determined to be held every four years, and according to the timeline I set for this story which I no longer remember, it has probably been over four years since that was decided. I am assuming that Enki won the tournament again.