Disclaimer: I am so overloaded, despite the fact that I'm not in school at the moment and my job won't start until July.

Fall

I wake up feeling the same way again
Another day to waste being lost in nowhere.
Can I be all that's been planned out for me
Or have I lost all motivation?

Plan 10, "So Confusing"

Chapter Sixteen: Living Long Enough

Yûsuke couldn't help himself as he looked over the cliff's edge, fire below illuminating his eyes an eerie orange.

"Kurama!"

He screamed at the top of his lungs. Kuwabara winced, not expecting the shattering noise, and covered his ears as a reflex.

"Do you mind?" he grumbled, shaking his head as if to restore his lost hearing. Yûsuke frowned, still glaring over the precipice.

"Hiei!" he screamed this time, having paid Kuwabara no mind. "Get out of there!"

"Guys, come on!" Kuwabara yelled as well, forgetting his eardrums. The fire, he noticed suddenly, was awfully hot, even from such a distance. He could only imagine—and he didn't care to—how the two about to be engulfed by it must feel. He knew his and Yûsuke's shouts were useless and if anything, distracting, but he knew Yûsuke felt as he did: tired of sitting around doing nothing. Hiei was the best suited to deal with fire attacks, of course, but they could be doing something, couldn't they? Anything at all!

Even as he thought it, Kuwabara knew that there was nothing. It drove him mad, but he edged his hand towards Yûsuke so as to grab the boy if he tried to leap into action.

"Guys!"


In an instant, Hiei's problem flashed across his mind: Fire left no time for thought. Regret was regret, but some regret could be done away with through good or diabolical deeds or such things. Death left no room for error. With that thought bouncing around in his skull and eluding any real concept, Hiei found himself finished with his move before he quite knew he had made it. The next thing he knew was Kurama, who had slipped back into an expressionless state of resigned slogging. Hiei knelt beside him, frowning.

"Did you really expect me to leave you there?" Hiei asked bluntly. Kurama looked up at him, but Hiei wished he wouldn't. Those once bright green eyes, fading into blankness, were worse than if he had screamed "I hate you" ten thousand times. The fox slowly shook his head in a manner resembling some wax doll, and Hiei felt a shiver run down his spine.

"I suppose I only hoped…" Kurama trailed off vaguely. Hiei huffed his frustration, forgetting about Kurama's well being for a moment and reaching out to shake his shoulder roughly.

"Are you still hoping?" he asked harshly, finishing his shake off with a small shove. "Are you? Is that all you're going to do, Kurama, keep hoping? Are you going to hope that I fix all your problems for you?"

Even as he spoke the words, Hiei was surprised to hear them coming from his mouth. Accustomed to being stepped on by those he thought to be friends, he had learned to shove down bitterness and resentment until they had shaped his personality to their liking. Anyway, he was never one to clean up others' messes, so that was a first. He decided that he didn't like it and vowed never to do it again, although it might be the kind of vow to break for the right people. Maybe. He would leave his options open.

Kurama looked up, his dull eyes watering even as he seemed detached from them. Hiei blinked, surprised at the blatant show of emotion, and slowly drew his hand back.

"I'm sorry," the fox whispered, and an old conversation of theirs darted across Hiei's mind.

He looked away, ashamed and not knowing why.

"Please," he said firmly, controlling his voice with a strictness that staved off tears. "Don't apologize."

Kurama smiled, his eyes still blank and teary. "But it's all my fault."

Hiei grimaced. "I know. But that doesn't mean you have to kill yourself."

"No, that wasn't about this," Kurama said as he shook his head. "I've wanted to do that for a long time."

"What," Hiei asked thinly, not in the mood for jokes, "be crushed by a wall of flame? Lose a battle? Lose a war?"

"Lovely," Kurama said, touching Hiei's neck gently. "Kill myself."

The touch suddenly began to burn as if Kurama had captured the fire scorching the ground below in his fingertips and was trying to sear Hiei's neck. Hiei winced, his eyes darting over to Kurama even as his face remained turned away. What possible reason could Kurama have for killing himself? It couldn't be that he was simply unhappy with things; Miru had to be the cause of that, and Kurama himself had just proclaimed that she had no chance of living.

Kurama smiled in a curiously warm, simpering smile and removed his fingers. "Did it hurt?" he asked, his eyes still dull.

"No," Hiei said sharply, biting his tongue. "Of course not. But I want to know why you want to kill yourself." He lowered his head further, hiding his eyes in the shadow of his hair. "Again."

"Hiei," Kurama said as if to a child. "Dear. I must tell you something about myself."

"I don't know everything already?" Hiei bit out, unable to stop himself. Kurama chuckled weakly and shook his head.

"I'm afraid not. You might want to make yourself comfortable; this could take awhile."

"Which, I'm afraid, you don't have."

Simultaneously, Hiei and Kurama looked over Kurama's shoulder to the drop behind him. Miru stood there with her hips thrust out to the side and her fists at her waist, obviously annoyed. Kurama hissed a thin curse and Hiei clenched his teeth. Yûsuke and Kuwabara, having respectfully kept their distance during Kurama's and Hiei's talk, scuttled closer, also hissing angry swears.

"I'll just have to make some time, then, I suppose," Kurama growled, standing. "Cliffs, in case you haven't come across this information in your studies, are several levels above surface. That means your fire attack is useless, even if you dared try it twice."

"And remember," Yûsuke said with a sneer, "if Kurama doesn't finish you off, one of us will."

"Yes, I'll keep that in mind." Miru moved into a fighting stance, her hands raised near her neck. "Anytime, fox," she mocked. "Anytime."

Kurama's expression became blank and he raised his hand near his neck, as well. Miru grinned cockily and laughed.

"You think you can use my Choir power?" she asked, incredulous. "Just because you've seen me use it before, you think you can do it. That's great, fox boy, that's really great."

Kurama smiled wryly, closing his eyes for a moment. "I believe all formality has gone out of this fight," he said. "We will begin upon the first attack, agreed?"

"Fine by me." Miru bounced from one foot to the other, eager to get going. Kurama shook his head twice, still smiling.

"Your impatience will be your downfall, little girl," he advised her. Yûsuke watched the fight with interest and Kuwabara tried to figure out the thought processes behind either fighter's actions and words. Hiei stood off to the side, wishing he could help but knowing enough not to.

"Lot of talk for such a measly spirit!" Miru sang a loud, shrill note and Kurama found himself lifted into the air, his left arm bound to his side. For some reason, perhaps a lack of focus, she had left his right arm free, raised near his ear. His eyes narrowing and his smile growing malicious, Kurama reached into his hair and snatched up a rose seed, growing it as he brought it back around to his front and snapping it into his Rose Whip. The long vine reached out and slapped Miru across her cheek, cutting into her flesh and leaving a red glaze over the welt. Crying out, she reached up to hold her cheek and as her concentration dropped, Kurama was freed.

Wasting no time, he rushed forward in a blur, his whip held out behind him and ready to strike. With tears welling in her eyes and a sorrowful cry in her throat, Miru wildly waved her hand as if smearing away some invisible water and a shield burst out of the air before her. Kurama stopped short, but the shield soon evaporated and he flicked his wrist, his whip wrapping around her throat.

"I should decapitate you now," he said, his voice quiet and deadly. Miru's eyes widened and she looked quickly from side to side, searching for any advantage she could find to get her out of her predicament. Kurama grinned, his fangs glinting.

"I should," he repeated, tightening his whip. "And I might, if not for one thing."

Miru began clawing fruitlessly at the constantly tightening whip. Hiei cocked his head slightly, and Yûsuke and Kuwabara drew back a step.

Kurama coughed a small laugh.

"I am your experiment."

The whip tightened.

"Your toy."

Rivulets of blood began trickling down Miru's neck.

"Your executioner."

Tears that had welled up in her eyes began to fall in thick streams.

"You should never have cornered this fox."

She tried to speak and the whip tightened further.

"He likes to play his games."

Miru cried, silent for her noose, and grasped vainly at the thorns cutting into her. Kurama tightened the whip once more before pulling it back to himself, letting it fall in a coil on the ground. Testing the depth of her wounds, Miru touched the rows of pricks in her neck and found them to be deep enough to bleed heavily—probably cutting into some vital something, but she didn't know what—but not fatal. Painful, but not fatal. She winced; make that very painful. Kurama stood by, examining his nails with a small grin on his face.

"How dare you stand there smirking at me?" Miru snapped, putting her fists back on her hips. "You nearly killed me, you bastard! Explain yourself!"

"Hm?" Kurama looked up as if noticing her for the first time. "This requires no explanation beyond the one you have already been given. Go now," he made a shooing motion with his hands. "Play your game. I am here; fight me."

Miru blinked and titled her head, confused at the overwhelming advantage she had just been given. She backed away a few steps before taking a running start towards Kurama, leaping into the air theatrically with her hands above her head. She pointed to Kurama as she landed in an obvious pose, reminding him of some shôjo cartoon.

"You, sir," she said proudly, making Kurama wince, "have mistakenly challenged the master of Choir magic! You shall be given no quarter!"

On the sidelines, Hiei blanched. What kind of crap was this girl trying to pull? Had they mistakenly grabbed her out of a cartoonish television show? And was it possible for her to have any sort of serious fight? Ever?

"I'll be sure to remember that," Kurama answered as Miru hummed a low note. Not entirely surprisingly, his whip suddenly snapped in two, leaving a mere stem in his hand. Kurama let his fang show in the shadow of a smile as he threw the stem aside. Uncharacteristically, he dashed behind Miru and kicked her, nearly throwing her to the ground. Hiei made sure to note her slow reaction time to physical combat; although fisticuffs were not Kurama's strength, they appeared to be an actual weakness for Miru, which should prove to be the fox's advantage.

Sure enough, Miru winced as she stood and began singing a soft tune which reminded Hiei of "Claire de Lune." Kurama moved one foot back, preparing to jump, when a soft glow surrounded Miru herself. The four men cocked their heads in unison, watching her with some trepidation. Oddly, the glow faded with no damage done to any of them. Kurama took a step towards her suspiciously.

Miru cackled, immensely pleased with herself. "Curious, boys?" she mocked. "Well, the great Kurama was wrong, it seems; some of my new tricks are worth learning."

New…

"I bet you think you're unbeatable now," Kurama said, understanding at once. Yûsuke blinked. Miru grinned.

"Well, I kind of am," she said with a sickening giggle. Hiei, who had been biting his tongue, spit a glob of blood on the ground.

Yûsuke leaned over to Kuwabara. "What am I missing?" he whispered.

Kuwabara shrugged. "I'm not sure. What did Miru just do to herself?"

Hiei slid the pair a sidelong glance of exasperation. "She healed herself. You didn't notice the sudden rise in her energy levels?"

"Was that what that was?"

Rolling his eyes, Hiei turned back to the action before him.

"Healing abilities—well," Kurama stopped himself. "I won't tell you how to lose this fight."

Hiei frowned. He had never heard Kurama use such crass banter during a fight before. This was most unlike him; perhaps he was not getting better after all?

Miru was in stitches. "Lose this fight?" she howled. "I think not! Oh," she wiped tears of mirth from her eyes, "dear, we shall see who is the loser of this fight. I have already defeated you once today, and I think I shall add another. If you don't mind."

"And if I do?"

"Well, that hardly matters."

Miru opened her mouth wide, probably for effect, and sang the tune of a loud, melodious song that reminded Kurama entirely too much of a sickening children's nursery rhyme. Strangely, the ground began to fall away in greats spots, leaving pillars behind for them to jump to. Yûsuke, Kuwabara, and Hiei skittered off to the cliff's edge where her magic had left larger supports, more like sandbars.

Kurama was left balancing on a precariously narrow column, but he did not seem to mind. Hiei recalled seeing him stand on bases as narrow and rounded as a flagpole, so this should be no challenge at all. In fact, Kurama was yawning exaggeratedly, much to Miru's dismay.

Yûsuke leaned toward Hiei hesitantly as Miru fumed. "Why did she do that?" he asked in a hushed tone. "She's not very adept, doesn't that move give Kurama the advantage?"

Hiei shook his head. "Not entirely. It's true that the move itself doesn't debilitate Kurama at all—if anything, it gives him an advantage because Miru expects it to weaken him. However, it gives Miru a slight advantage in that she does not have to drain the ground from beneath Kurama's feet to drop him down; she only has to snap the column he stands on, which is significantly easier and faster for her."

"But doesn't it also limit her?" Kuwabara asked suspiciously. "She can't move from the platform she stands on without seriously risking falling down into the canyon she's created. I mean, we all saw Kurama kick her; she's not that coordinated on her feet."

"An oversight on her part," Hiei conceded. "Her thinking is too one-dimensional. Kurama knows this—watch him, he knows it all right—but she does not, and she is not so accomplished at reading his emotions as to suspect that he knows something, whatever it may be, that she doesn't. For all her torments of him, she hasn't actually been around him much at all. She can't recognize his body language or his expressions."

"Ah…"

"I have only one rule in this bout," Miru was saying. Kurama remained impassive, which she took as a cue to continue. "You may not use your flying plant. Your Fuyouka Shokubutsu."

Kurama shrugged indifferently, angering Miru further. "All right. I will agree to your terms."

She paused a moment before speaking again. "And have you none for me?"

"Pardon? Oh," Kurama blinked, "dear me, no. Feel free to use whatever diabolical and underhanded means you see fit to win this fight. I will be content for you to live with the knowledge that you could not ever truly defeat me, should things come to that."

Meanwhile, this was all making Hiei quite nervous. Kurama's nonchalant attitudes during a fight were usually much more controlled than this and much less…much less bored. It was almost as if Kurama simply didn't care. But that couldn't be, could it? No; Hiei rid himself of that ridiculous thought at once.

"Then we shall begin at once!"

Kurama nodded. Miru trilled. The column he stood on snapped at its base, nearly sending him into the abyss below.

Miru hissed shortly and snapped her fingers as Kurama leapt gracefully, and primarily quickly, to a different column of needle-thin rock. He did not seem to do anything else, which perplexed the spectators most.

The fight continued in this manner for several minutes until Kurama was left on the only remaining column short of Miru's little platform. She grinned, confident in her ability to win the fight with little effort. Kurama stood up as straight as he could, his posture not at all suited for jumping.

"Senile, old boy?" Miru asked teasingly. "Think you can win without even trying? Well, I've got new for you: youth is going to grasp its tomorrow, today!"

Yûsuke gaped and Kuwabara smacked his forehead as a vein above Hiei's eye twitched dangerously. Kurama only chuckled at Miru's pathetic attempt at profundity.

"I'll be sure to check up on youth's progress in that matter," Kurama assured her. Miru sang a short, harsh note and the last pillar crumbled, forcing Kurama to Miru's territory. She grinned, showing her teeth in a malicious smile.

Kurama held up his hand to forestall the fight. "Answer me this first," he said. "Why do you smile in this predicament? I clearly have the advantage; you are not terribly agile, nor have you shown yourself to be physically powerful."

Hiei bit his tongue inside his mouth. That comment was somewhere between the new, unfamiliar Kurama and the old, tactical Kurama. It was better than nothing, but still not fabulous.

"You think you're going to win?" Miru snapped, suddenly harsh. "You think that just because you're older, just because you're more 'worldly,' just because you're so, fucking, famous, I'm going to kneel before you and kiss your grimy little claws? I'm going to fall in love with you? I'm going to be another mark on your bedpost? Well, I'll show you. I'll show all of you," she finished with a flourish, gesturing dramatically to the fighters behind Kurama.

Kurama smiled sagely, his eyes half closed. "Ah."

" 'Ah,' what?"

"My dear, you are young." Kurama shook his head and looked away from Miru completely, a basic fighter's "absolutely never" move. "You are too young to tell me I am worldly. Too young for this fight. Too young," he looked at her pityingly, "for this game."

Miru gaped, stunned out of attacking and trembling slightly. Kurama chuckled softly.

"You have a basic child's delusion."

"I am nothing 'basic'! Take that back, right now!"

"Oh, my dear girl!" Kurama said, suddenly the wise old grandfather figure. "No, you are nothing basic, but you are affected by a the delusion of a basic child."

Miru frowned, glaring. "Explain yourself."

"You see?" Kurama touched his fingers tenderly to his own cheek in an almost nostalgic manner. "You think you can demand such things as explanations from me. Me! Your far superior! Ah," he grinned widely again, suppressing another laugh, "you are so young, so involved in this game beyond your comprehension… Forgive me, but I forget sometimes how stupid youth can be."

"I—"

"Wait now," Kurama held up his hand, "and simply listen."

"I don't have to listen to anything you say!"

"This is true," Kurama admitted, "and I will not force you."

Despite this concession, Miru did not move. Kurama smiled knowingly and Hiei, Yûsuke, and Kuwabara edged closer to the edge of their wide open prison to listen to his words.

"The only reason you wish for this game to continue is so that you can end it," Kurama began. Miru frowned but did not speak. "You are getting bored with me now; I was a grand prize for you once, but that prize has lost its novelty and even now, as Yôko Kurama fades from this world, his adventures are not being passed down to the new youth. He will never be forgotten, but he will never be remembered quite right. Someday, he will be the greatest of fox demons with one thousand magical tails, stealing whatever he wanted whenever he wished to take it. Someday, he will be gone forever.

"As the innovation of your prize fades, so does its worth in this modern world. Yôko Kurama is gone forever from his old life and he will never come to the latest invention of this world; your trophy is increasingly more worthless. You want a new reward to brag of, a new crown to parade about before those you have never met, and will never meet. You want to gather your fame not for achieving your own greatness, but for destroying it in another."

Miru was absolutely seething, but appeared desperate to hear more. "And what does the charm of youth have to do with any of this?" she growled, trying to appear as though she was on the verge of fleeing and doing a poor job of it.

Kurama smiled wanly once more, casting his eyes up to the bloody red sky. "Youth is immortal," he said softly.

"You are immortal," Miru corrected.

"No," Kurama corrected, "not in reality. I am immortal only in that old age cannot take my life from me if I do not wish it so. Youth is immortal in a different sort; it is the immortality of the mind, nothing more."

"The mind is no more immortal than the body."

"You misunderstand." Kurama shook his head, trying to find the proper words to express his point. "In youth, one merely feels immortal. Taking risks, making dares, fighting fights; these are all death defying, in their way, and signs of immortality. Or rather, the illusion thereof. Youth, you see, is too young, too inexperienced to comprehend death as a force of nature. It is merely a darkness which claims the old, the weak, the sick. Youth can never be touched by this darkness for its brilliant barrier of disillusionment, its failure to realize that death can claim even the youngest, even the spryest, even the bravest among us. The barest thought of deadly sickness is kept at bay by this magical shield. As a child, you cannot understand the tiredness that comes with age, nor the regret. Nor even, perhaps, the wish for death."

At this remark, Hiei drew in a sharp breath, his fears as good as confirmed. As right as Kurama was (even as Hiei heard the words, he knew they were all true, but he didn't have to like it), he had been trying to fight back the thought that Kurama still actually wanted to die. Yûsuke looked down at him worriedly, but Hiei recovered himself as soon as he had made the slip and the gasp might as well have come from the air itself.

"How can one simply wish for death?" Miru asked skeptically. "If such a thing should occur, there are thousands, millions of ways to kill a person! It would not be so hard to put oneself out of that misery."

"Another point you fail to understand," Kurama said. "Affairs, so to speak, must be put to rest, sorted through carefully—painfully so, in fact, so as to leave no possible regret. Certain people must be made to understand certain things, to think in certain ways, so that they can see the light blinding the eyes of the already dead."

"But when putting these affairs in order, the person is not dead yet. You speak in circles, you old fool." Miru spit over the ledge on which she stood, arrogantly folding her arms across her chest.

"He might as well be, if he wishes for such a thing."

Hiei knew the comment was directed at him, at least partly, but he refused to accept this speech (meaningful and revealing as it was) as Kurama's last farewell. They would speak face-to-face when it was over and done with.

"Then why does he still refuse to do the deed? Is he afraid?"

Kurama laughed a short bark. "Far from it! As such a child, you cannot understand many things. In your twisted way, you claim to understand life, love, happiness, and so forth, but in truth, you understand only your own illusions of such things. Even then, because you are not comprehending reality, you are confused. You are not in love with Hiei, but jealous of the love he and I appear to share."

At that precise wording, Hiei's ears perked. What was that, exactly?

"You have never known true happiness; before meeting me, you desperately sought your place in this universe, and afterwards, your life, as you would call it, became a mere obsession, a simple hobby. Nothing more. It does not make you happy; it only occupies your time, and child, your time has run out for this game. The limit has come and you must restart if you wish to continue."

"And what of life?"

"Life, my dear, is explained in death."

Miru's eyes were incredibly wide at this point and she backed up a step, forgetting that she had nowhere to go. As her foot slipped, she reflexively sang a dull tune and created another block of land behind her to stand on. The tune continued until she had drawn a ramp down the side of the cliff, leading her to the ground below and removing the threat of a deadly fall.

"Even now, you dodge death with your childish games," Kurama said somewhat proudly. "You see? You have given yourself a safety net, a last card up the sleeve. You fear death because you are too young to understand it, or to feel its pull, to see its attraction."

"No," Miru said, fearful but trying to sound brave. "No, death will never attract me. I will never be drawn to it, never."

Kurama sighed sadly, shuffling around to turn his back to Miru. "Probably," he admitted. "Unless you learn to use your power wisely, your overconfidence will lead you to an early death. But it is too late for that, I fear."

"I can do anything I want to!"

"Any child can."

"Shut up!"

As Miru screamed, Kurama looked over his shoulder at her, his smile pitying both her and himself. "Go on," he said softly. "Go on now, little one, and live a life of fortitude among those you have never met, and will never meet. Show yourself off and be great."

Angry tears fell from Miru's eyes, staining her cheeks a spotty white and turning her plain eyes bright red. "I'll show you," she said with a barely controlled fury, her voice carrying the choked accent of one who had been crying. "I'll be even greater than you! I'll be the master you never were; I'll be better than you ever could be!"

Kurama only smiled at her, closing his eyes. He did not see her about to punch him, holding herself back as she ran off in a teary fit. He did not sense her energy fluctuate as she nearly tripped down the hill, overcompensating by spiking her power. He did not hear the last words she would ever speak to him as she ran off, muttering to herself the words that screamed in her head. But perhaps most importantly, he did not know that Hiei, out of respect and fear, did not run to him at once, but let him stand alone and mourn as only a dead man could.


NO, THIS IS NOT THE LAST CHAPTER. For as much as I love endings with unresolved questions, I will probably answer the following:

Is Kurama literally dead?

Now onto the boring stuff:

Note that "Fuyouka Shokubutsu" literally means "floating plant" and is the given name for Kurama's…floating plant. The one he uses to fly. Yeah.

P.S., the "old conversation of theirs" Hiei refers to occurs in chapter thirteen, "Sorry for the World." Kurama says he's sorry that Hiei is concerned and Hiei calls him on it, asking him why he apologized for Hiei's concern itself and not for causing it. Then there's a brief explanation: "Someone ought to apologize, even if it's not his fault." "But apologize for what?" "Everything." Reread it if you find it über important, but it's not critical to the plot.

P.P.S., Hiei thinks back to Kurama's attempt to kill himself, circa chapter five ("Shall I"), and the reasoning behind such an act, circa chapter six ("Necessary Lives"). He disregards Kurama's prior explanation due to their recent, er, adventures tracking Miru, counting it as adventure and pondering that if Miru is gone, Kurama might begin to enjoy life a little. Once again, reread if you are so compelled, but it's not necessary to understand the plot.