Disclaimer: funny thing about Varsity Books dot com: they suck. Really, their prices are way high and they don't even have my second semester texts posted yet.

Fall

That everything I'll do for me
Will be in the name of your lonely tear
But stay now
I'll do
I believe in your power
Will you believe in me?

Lacuna Coil, "Soul into Hades"

Chapter Nine: Cry for Me

Yûsuke dragged his feet, chips of pebbles scattering before him as he and Kuwabara followed Jorge down what must have been the fiftieth hall, or around what might have been the hundredth corner. Both had long since lost track, and it wasn't as though either thought he had a hope of remembering for future reference. Funny, Yûsuke had thought, that they had gone around several corners and down several halls that Yûsuke could have sworn he had seen shortcuts through.

They came to a fork in the…hall, and Jorge chose the distinctly more twisting and winding corridor. They passed by several marked and unmarked doors and one open door through which Yûsuke could clearly see a shortcut right to the other side of the hall! He put a hand out to stop Jorge, but the ogre chose that opportune moment to pick up his pace a bit, and Yûsuke completely missed. They reached the end of the winding hall in a timely fashion after that, and Jorge pointed them down one final passage before veering off and entering—hiding in, Yûsuke thought—another library. At least, that was what it seemed to be, though he only had a cursory glance into it before Jorge slammed the door shut.

Kuwabara was banging on the door Jorge had showed them to, yelling about opening it and what unfortunate things would befall Koenma if he refused. Yûsuke shrugged and joined in the festivities with some rather colorful curses.

There was a faint, almost inaudible whirring sound beside them which lasted only for a second or two, but when Yûsuke and Kuwabara turned their gazes to their common left, Botan was standing there with her hands on her hips, looking most irate. Kuwabara stopped his banging and Yûsuke stopped his swearing, both sweating a little and giving large, toothy smiles. Botan only rolled her eyes and stepped forward, right up to the door. Kuwabara and Yûsuke craned their necks around, watching her curiously.

Curling her hand slightly, she rapped her knuckles on the door. "Koenma sir?" she called clearly. "There's a pair of stubborn dimwits here to see you!"

"Hey—!"

But when the doors creaked open, both stubborn dimwits found it hard to argue with results.

Koenma, meanwhile, was sitting in his teenager body with his long fingers elegantly tented before him, his eyes shadowed and his shoulders firmly set back so that his neck was sticking out slightly. It was sort of intimidating, much more so than the little toddler had ever attempted in the past.

Edging into the room, Yûsuke and Kuwabara were too distracted to jump when the doors slammed shut behind them. Koenma looked up through his bangs and smiled eerily, making both boys shiver.

"Yes?" he asked in a slow drawl.

Yûsuke and Kuwabara exchanged a frightened look.

"Eheh…"


Hiei raised his eyebrows as he watched Kurama. The proud fox was reduced to tears, or so it seemed, his head in his palms, his shoulders moving with the slightest tremor, his form hunched over in an altogether undignified manner. Hiei wondered if he should put a comforting hand on his companion's shoulder (if he did, would it even be comforting?), scoot back against the wall and wait for Kurama to calm himself (would Kurama be able to calm himself if Hiei put too much distance between them?), try to rouse Gravatus (could she be roused at all?), or flee for his life (would he be able to get very far?).

One, two, three, four. Hiei pondered these options seriously and thought that he ought to do something, at least. If he didn't, Kurama was bound to…well, he wasn't quite sure what Kurama was bound to do, but it would surely be something bad. Unproductive, at least.

As it turned out, he didn't need to make much of a decision. Kurama raised his head and blinked, though it was not the innocently befuddled blink he used when denying having committed a crime. This was the face of a man who was truly miserable and had nothing else to do. Nothing to gain nor to lose, even. Something had happened, Hiei realized, something to break open the dam of Kurama's twisted thoughts and thoroughly fucked up mind, and now he needed to fix it. The only problem was, he had no idea what had happened, or how to tend to it.

Placing his hands not on Kurama himself, but on the floor right before him to put Hiei in a catlike crouch, the demon looked back at his friend worriedly. "Kurama?" Hiei asked, keeping his voice soft. "What's wrong?"

With a gasping wail, Kurama pressed his palms to his eyes again and tried to stem the flow of tears. He succeeded—sort of—and Hiei easily resisted the minor urge to wipe away the tears that did manage to fall.

"Kurama…" Hiei tried again, sitting as close to Kurama as he could without touching him. "It's going to be okay. I…I admit I don't know how, or why I think it is, but something's telling me we're going to be all right. We'll get another informant or something, I don't know, this isn't the end of the world."

Kurama looked up again, his hands still covering his mouth and his eyes watering more than Hiei thought was necessary. "Oh, gods above, Hiei, you think I don't know that?" Kurama slapped his hands down on the ground and looked at Hiei with such desperation, he wasn't quite sure what it meant.

Hiei rocked back on his heels and frowned, his features sharpening into a glare. Kurama took no notice of this, his gaze becoming only more desperate as he cried even more.

"I don't know what you know, Kurama," Hiei said snappishly. "In fact, I don't know where you are, but it's certainly not here. What is wrong in your head? Something must have just set you off, but I don't know what! All you need to do is tell me!"

Biting his lower lip and tightly closing his eyes, Kurama gave off the distinct impression that he was about to scream. Hiei took no action, merely staring the fox down and waiting for a response.

"It's not that easy," he said in a strained voice. "I—can't just tell you. You wouldn't understand."

"No!" Hiei bellowed, standing at once and towering over Kurama, who was bent over his knees. "No, I will not accept that as an answer! I am so sick of your egotistical, elitist attitude, Kurama, I can't even put it into words! If you would for once get down off your high horse and even try to explain your problems to me—to anyone, it doesn't have to be me—then maybe we could help you for once! But you're too busy being the bigger, older, wiser man and you won't accept anyone's help! Please, Kurama! The reason we don't even try to help you is that we know you won't let us!"

Finally the tears welled in Kurama's eyes, spilling nearly the moment they appeared. "Do you think it's fun?" Kurama asked fiercely, standing as well. "Do you think I like being who I am?"

As soon as the words were spoken, Kurama regretted them. In a shocked silence, he let his hand drift up to cover his mouth, which had dropped open in a small "o." Hiei stared at him, equally stunned and not quite sure what to do with the new information he had been given.

In the end, he tentatively reached out his hand and clapped Kurama's shoulder, withdrawing it at once. Kurama, however, seemed to take the contact as a signal that more contact was all right as far as Hiei was concerned, and he fell forward into Hiei's arms, wrapping the small demon around himself. Flustered, Hiei let his arms rest around Kurama's quivering shoulders and patted his back weakly; the fox seemed appreciative of the small gesture and his choked sobs quieted a good bit. Still, Hiei frowned.

"What do you mean," he asked hesitantly, "when you say you don't like being who you are?"

As might have been anticipated, the question elicited another of Kurama's wailing sobs and he once more burrowed his face into the junction of Hiei's neck and shoulder.

"Please don't leave me," he cried in a shaking voice, his hands winding up to firmly grasp Hiei's shoulders. The demon idly rubbed small circles on Kurama's back, staring off into space over his friend's shoulder. Gravatus had yet to move, much less wake, so there was little else for him to do than think. He was getting sort of tired of thinking.

"What makes you think I'd do that?" he asked in a distracted tone, trying to focus his gaze on Gravatus's prone form lying before him. He probably hadn't actually done anything to make Kurama fear that he would leave…the fox was being paranoid. Again. Well, Hiei reasoned, at least he was almost sane. Sort of. Paranoia was better than erratic and random non-thought, and almost useful in Makai. Better to be paranoid than too trusting, at least.

Kurama looked up with the wide eyes of a child. "Everyone does it," he said softly. "Right? You'll leave me someday, too."

Unwittingly, Hiei let a little pity creep its way down into his heart. Kurama was big and strong, and Kurama was the one they all fell back on, always. Not only would that weigh anyone down, but Kurama had problems of his own, probably more than the rest of them combined. He was beginning to feel guilty, which was something he could not afford then, or ever. Everyone needed something to help him get over his stumbling blocks, and if Hiei lost Kurama, he didn't know what he would do. And what of Yûsuke or Kuwabara? They all depended on Kurama to help them through their lives. If he was lost, then what? Then where would they turn? What would they say? What would they do?

Hiei pulled Kurama closer to his chest in some sort of cross between a hug and a cling for his own sanity. Resting his cheek on his friend's head, he let out a soft sigh, somewhat forlorn. Kurama took no notice. On the contrary, he made a soft whining noise and turned his head down so that he could breath easier.

As he dared to remove one hand from Kurama, only to touch him again, Hiei raised his friend's head slightly and looked down at his face. "I might," he said in all seriousness, succeeding well enough in keeping his voice steady. "I won't lie to you. However, I will never forget you. And one never knows…I might come back."

Though his tears had slowed, Kurama still cried a steady stream and sniffled pathetically, rubbing his eyes. Unable to keep from rolling his eyes at the sheer sentimentality, Hiei drew Kurama back against him in another clinging hug, bringing them down to a kneel to give himself a small height advantage.

A shrill scream broke the gentle aura that had settled over them. Gravatus had woken and sat up, clutching her head, giant eyes darting about wildly. Still, Kurama let himself be drawn to Hiei and in return, the fire demon did not release his grasp.

"Where am I?" Gravatus cried suddenly, turning to the entwined pair. Hiei glared at her roughly over the top of Kurama's head as the fox sighed against his skin. It wasn't quite that he liked the moment they had been sharing—well, he did, but that had not spurred his irritation. It was more that he felt the fox had suddenly made a great amount of progress, and he would have preferred to pursue it further. As well as the fact that he liked it.

"You're exactly where you were when you passed out," he snapped. "What happened to you?"

Gravatus looked around warily, her eyes finally landing on the pair some ways away, and frowned. "I had a vision," she said thinly. "A vision of sorts, at least."

Neither Hiei nor Kurama had moved at all once she began speaking, but a moment after she had stopped, Kurama turned himself over slowly in Hiei's arms and sat on his friend's thighs. He looked at Gravatus owlishly, his mouth open the slightest bit, as though he wished to speak but could not think of the words.

"So Miru wasn't trying to possess you?" he said finally. Gravatus shook her head.

"I wouldn't allow it if she did," she said, suddenly exhausted. Hiei frowned at her change in tone and moved to rest his chin in his palm, at which point he recognized that he was still clutching Kurama. He briefly considered letting go, but decided not to unless Kurama initiated the change. Damaging to the situation, he assured himself. Kurama was the one to call the shots and that was that.

"That," he noted, was also ridiculous. He wanted to stay curled around Kurama as much as Kurama seemed to want him there. He simply needed to stop lying to himself. Considering giving himself a sharp slap in the face, he decided that wouldn't do any good and refrained. He really was acting a bit peculiar recently.

In the back of his mind, he registered that Kurama was speaking and that he should probably be listening.

"I wouldn't be certain of that," Kurama said softly, more to himself than to her, his eyes lowered to the ground. When he glanced up again, it was with sharp eyes, his focus instantly refined. "What do you mean when you say it was a vision 'of sorts'?"

Gravatus frowned. "I mean…it wasn't really a vision. It was an—an image…of the present." She fidgeted nervously under his scrutiny and Hiei wasn't sure whether he had or hadn't helped by adding his own harsh gaze. Determining that it couldn't matter much, he continued to await her further explanation and naturally didn't release his hold on Kurama (who didn't seem to mind at all).

"I saw blood," she said haltingly, visibly sweating. "A knife—a snake—cutting flesh, like a torture, some kind of horrible scream, a needle—no, no, I've got it: hundreds of needles—"

"That's the first time I've ever heard someone mix up 'one' with 'several hundred,' " Hiei muttered into Kurama's ear, trusting that in Gravatus's frantic state, she wouldn't hear. Indeed she did not, and Hiei found that he had even elicited a titter from his friend, evidenced only by the light vibrations against Hiei's legs. Kurama seemed, again, to be on the road to recovery. It would be long and full of sharp obstacles, but they would make it down the road and emerge from the city of cold glass—together—and pull one another out. Life would be okay.

He would make it so.


Koenma continued to look at them severely, his gaze intimidatingly omnipotent. Yûsuke shoved Kuwabara forward and Kuwabara shoved him right back, resulting in a brief squabble and ending in Yûsuke bent over the edge of Koenma's desk, his nose bleeding slowly. He grinned, showing all his teeth and overcompensating for his nervousness.

"We want to help find Hiei and Kurama," Yûsuke said in a loud rush, keeping the silly smile on his face the entire time. "And we figured, you know, you would be the best place to start looking!"

Koenma raised an eyebrow skeptically. "How does a person become a place to start looking?"

"You're not a person, you're a demi-deity," Kuwabara mentioned from his place in the back of the office. Koenma let his gaze flicker there before locking back onto Yûsuke with laser precision.

Yûsuke was, predictably, nodding without giving the comment much thought. Rolling his eyes, said demi-deity stood and walked around his desk, pressing seemingly random buttons on a seemingly random pedestal full of brightly colored switches and things. Yûsuke and Kuwabara edged over to peer around his shoulders and watch his work, although it was impossible to understand. (Truth be told, much of it served no actual purpose, but gave off the illusion that Koenma kept strings of long codes locked away in his head to be used for running such complex machinery as a video recorder.)

Finally, the large screen Koenma used for spying on people fell from the ceiling and buzzed unpleasantly. Yûsuke and Kuwabara watched it with matching interest as the picture cleared on, of all things…

…a large field. Unfortunately for the would-be detectives, the field had nothing in it but grass. And it wasn't even particularly unusual-looking grass, nor was it largely healthful. Most of it was crispy, crumbling brown, and the green stuff was unpleasantly stiff.

"Special," Yûsuke noted derisively. Kuwabara murmured an agreement and frowned.

Koenma huffed impatiently. "Regardless of your lacking respect," he said icily, "this is a spot where Hiei was recently. It took a good deal of time to find it, so you had better appreciate all the work I put into this crap for you people!"

"Oh, please," Yûsuke said. "If Hiei's running around unchecked with a mentally unstable Kurama at his heels, you really think you've got nothing vested in their safe return? Half of the demon realm would be under their control in an hour if they wanted it!"

"Well…"

"You know," Kuwabara pondered, "he's got a point."

"…fine." Koenma glared at the floor, his imposing image effectively ruined. "Let's get to work."


"Hiei," Kurama said softly, reaching up to pet his friend's arm.

"Mm?" Hiei grunted back, still listening to Gravatus with half an ear. Kurama would undoubtedly be more interesting.

"Hiei, do you trust me?"

Hiei blinked. Usually the answer would be "Yes," with no thought at all. But at the moment…well, did he really? Did he consider them equals? No, he really didn't. But was the true answer the right one?

Kurama seemed to take his silence as answer enough. "I see," he said. "That's good to know."

It was hard to miss the hurt in his gentle tone. Hiei looked away and frowned, disappointed in himself.

"Sorry," he muttered. "Usually I do—"

"But not now," Kurama interrupted him. "I know. It's all right."

Somehow, Hiei sensed that it was not all right at all.

But that was another matter for another day.

"I think Miru was trying to tell me something, as well, though the memory is unclear…"

The duo found their attention instantly snapped back to Gravatus at her frustrated words.

"What was that?"


If you read "Balance" with loads of attentiveness, you might recognize the emergence from city of cold glass to an outstretched hand offered by a friend. Well, it's been modified slightly, so it's okay if you didn't. Hiei has, unwittingly perhaps, become so drawn into Kurama's world that he cannot escape it without Kurama's help. In order to leave the city of cold glass, which, in "Balance," was a sort of metaphor for Kurama's thoroughly fucked up mind as expressed to him through a frightening dream, they will need to work together and support one another. If that gives away too much of the ending, I apologize. If you think it gives away too much of the ending and then you get to the ending, whenever that happens, as it hasn't been written yet, and it turns out you were wrong, well, then…that's good for me, I guess.