Trigger Warning: There's some mention of blood and death here. I wouldn't normally warn about that, but considering what's been going on lately, I wanted to give a heads up. This is still like 90% fluff, I swear.

Prompt: "Can I sleep here tonight? With you?" Characters: Kurama, Asaki, and Kazuya Hatanaka

Kurama had been counting down the hours since he'd gotten to work. Normally, he loved his job, but the meeting today was one his stepfather had been dreading for ages, and that anxiety had eventually rubbed off on his son. On top of that, Asaki was making him dinner. He hadn't been able to see her in a week because of how opposite their schedules had been with her going to school during the day and then working in the afternoon. They had used Koenma's communicators to stay in touch and talk for a little while before bed, but other than that, they'd been perfectly apart. Kurama refused to let another day pass without seeing her.

His day seemed determined to fight him on it, however.

"Son, have you seen the paperwork on the Nakamura account?"

Kurama looked up from his computer to find his stepfather with his arms full of papers. Despite how successful the meeting this morning had been, Kazuya Hatanaka never stopped worrying until a deal was officially made.

"You left it in the break room," Kurama replied, getting to his feet. "I'll bring it to your office."

"You don't have to do that."

"It's no trouble. I'm almost finished with my own work anyway."

"Thank you." The relief on his stepfather's face made it worth whatever extra trouble Kurama might go through for him. If Kazuya was happy, Kurama's mother was happy, and that was more than enough reason to help wherever he could.

"Of course." Kazuya dashed off to his office, and Kurama went to the break room to find the papers exactly where he'd seen his distracted stepfather put them when he'd gotten his fifth cup of coffee today. A few of his coworkers were in there, including a young woman who had been making eyes at him since his first day here. Kurama made what pleasantries he needed to and nothing more as he grabbed his stepfather's papers and slipped back out into the hallway.

"Shuichi!"

He winced at the sound of his name, schooling his expression into one of mild disinterest as he turned to face the young woman in question. "Miss Ito."

"Please, I know I've asked you to call me Chiyo," she said, smiling silkily. Chiyo was short and thin, her shiny black hair hanging loose around her face, resting just below her shoulders. She wasn't unattractive, but Kurama couldn't help but compare her to Asaki. Ever since he'd fallen for the fiery demon, she'd become his standard. Chiyo didn't have the muscle tone his Asaki did, nor did she carry herself with the same confidence Asaki had learned from years of pretending. Her eyes didn't sparkle when she laughed, and he'd never seen her passionate about something like Asaki always seemed to be. The way Asaki lit up when she got excited was one of his favorite things.

"Apologies, Miss Ito," Kurama replied. "You are my senpai. It would be rude of me to be so familiar." Chiyo was a few years older than he was as far as human years went, and according to his other coworkers, she frequently pursued younger men. That was another thing Asaki had over her. She'd captured his heart without even trying.

"You're so old-fashioned," she said, reaching out to put a hand on his arm. He moved it out of the way, taking a step back, that mild expression still plastered to his face.

"Excuse me, Miss Ito. I'm to deliver these to Mr. Hatanaka."

"Oh. Okay." She was absolutely pouting, but Kurama could care less as he turned away. Asaki's pout was infinitely more appealing. At that thought, Kurama raked a hand through his hair, trying to banish thoughts of just what he wanted to do to his girlfriend's pouting lips. The last thing he needed was to show up in Kazuya's office worked up over something like that.

When Kurama knocked on the door, Kazuya called out for him to enter and then immediately returned to his phone call. "Yes. Yes. Understood. Of course, I'll have those to you tonight. Of course. Thank you very much." He hung up, smiling wearily at his son. "We did it. That was Mr. Nakamura. They want to work with us."

"Congratulations!" Kurama replied.

"Thank you. I can't wait to tell everyone tomorrow." Kazuya's eyes fell on the papers Kurama had in his hands, sighing. "It's going to be a long night."

Which was when it clicked in Kurama's mind that what he'd promised to send to Mr. Nakamura were the documents Kurama was holding. If Kazuya took these on by himself, he would be here until midnight….

"I'll help. The two of us should be able to knock these out in half the time."

"Oh, you don't have to do that, Shuichi," Kazuya said, but his expression didn't match his words. He wanted the help. Very badly.

"It's all right. I would feel guilty knowing you were here all night." He would have to call Asaki, tell her he was going to be late, and...ask if he could still come see her. Hopefully, this wouldn't take nearly as long as he thought it would.

"Thank you, Shuichi. Thank you so much."

"Of course."

…

It was 7:30 by the time he reached Asaki's apartment, having torn through those papers faster than any human would have been capable. Kazuya had been thoroughly impressed at Kurama's speed and accuracy, but Kurama waved away his praise. He'd been a man with a mission, after all.

Stumbling through the front door, he was hit with the smell of fried fish and tentsuyu sauce. Tempura. Bless Asaki. When he'd called her earlier, he could tell she was upset but also supportive. She'd been perfectly fine with pushing back dinner a bit and promised she'd make him one of his favorites. She'd been cooking more and more elaborate things lately, claiming it was stress relief from all the work she had to do. Kurama certainly didn't mind on the few occasions he'd gotten to partake. Her baking had always been excellent, but her cooking got better every time he ate it.

"I'm home," he whispered, more to himself than anyone else. Wherever Asaki was had become Kurama's home. Once he'd realized this, he'd found he really didn't mind. He'd been wandering for so long, but maybe, finally, he could rest.

"Kurama! Welcome!" Asaki said, poking her head into the genkan where he was taking off his shoes. "Dinner's almost done…." She trailed off, frowning as she approached him. "Are you okay? You look really tired."

She looked like an angel, in all honesty. Her hair was tied back, up and out of her face so it wouldn't get in the way of her cooking. She'd been wearing it unbraided more recently, which Kurama appreciated. It was much easier to run his fingers through that way.

When she touched his cheek, he leaned into her hand for a moment before pulling her in for a hug, resting his head on her shoulder. "Very tired," he mumbled, breathing her in. She smelled like fish, oil, and just a hint of smoke. There was always that hint of smoke that followed her wherever she went. He'd grown to love it as he'd grown to love her. "I'm sorry I'm so late."

"It's okay," she whispered, rubbing his back as she held him close. "I'll take you late over not at all."

He'd made the right choice in coming. Squeezing her tightly only reaffirmed what he already knew to be true. "I'm glad. I've missed you."

"I missed you too," she murmured into his shoulder. Suddenly, she pulled away, alarm flashing across her face. "Sorry, food." She slid out of his arms, much to his dismay, ducking back into the kitchen.

When she disappeared from sight, Kurama couldn't help but laugh a little breathlessly. This woman. This lovely woman. Smiling to himself, he made his way after her, once again taking in the smell of his favorite food. "Do you need any help?" he asked.

"You can set the table if you want," Asaki said, grabbing a large plate to heap the fried fish on.

"Of course." Kurama had the table set in a minute, and then the food was ready to go, thank goodness. He was hungry.

"So," Asaki said, settling in across from him, "How was your day?"

"Tiring," he replied, tucking into his food. He told her about the meeting and about helping Kazuya.

"That was really kind of you," she said, smiling. "I know you would have rather been here sooner, but I'm glad you stayed to help him."

"Likewise," Kurama replied. "On both counts." When he told her about Chiyo Ito, she practically hissed.

"If I ever meet that woman, she and I are going to have strong words," she grunted, taking a particularly large bite of the salad she'd prepared to go with the tempura.

"For her safety, we may need to avoid that."

Asaki let out a sigh, saying, "I know it's silly of me to get mad. I trust you, and women flirt with you all the time, but I don't like it."

There was that pout of hers. If she wasn't across the table….

"You're cute when you're jealous," he said, the words out before he could stop them. Maybe it was just exhaustion talking.

Her face flushed as red as her hair, and she looked down at her food, reaching for a braid to tug on that wasn't there. "You aren't," she mumbled. "You're scary."

"I know," he replied. "To be fair, most of your prospective suitors can handle it."

"You say that like there have been so many," she said, rolling her eyes.

If you only knew. Asaki was very perceptive about a lot of things, but she could not tell when men were genuinely interested in her. How many had there been just in the time he'd known her? Hide, Eiki, Chu, Mitarai, Shota...and those were just the people he'd met. She'd gotten confessed to at her middle school graduation, and Yomi had propositioned her, though that was likely just to get under Kurama's skin. It had worked.

She got to her feet, the two of them having finished eating. Her face was still red, and when she reached for his plate, he took her hand, pulling her closer to him. She stumbled, catching herself on the table. "Kurama?"

He put his hands on her hips, resting his forehead on her stomach. Warm. When Asaki was in her demon form, she was always warm, fire waiting just below the surface. It was pleasant, especially when the weather was cold. He'd told her that once, and she had swatted at him. Teasing Asaki was one of his favorite things to do.

Her fingers fell on his head, and she slowly began to run them through his hair, sending a pleasant tingle through him. She was gentle and sweet as she touched him, like she was still nervous about it, still unsure. She touched him like he was precious and deserved to be treasured, two things Kurama had found unfathomable at first. Even as he came to terms with the fact that he was lovable, this bit puzzled him. He'd yet to learn how to rationalize being quite so dear to someone.

"Want to watch a movie?" Asaki asked, and he found himself smiling as he felt her stomach move with her breath. What he wanted was to kiss her and very much. However, he was tired. Maybe if he just held her for the rest of the night, that would suffice.

"I'll help you with the dishes first," he mumbled, pulling away from her but keeping his hands on her hips. Her fingers were still in his hair, and he never wanted them to leave it.

"Mm-mm," she said, looking away from him, her cheeks red. "Go pick the movie. I'll be there shortly."

Kurama reluctantly released her, too tired to really argue. "If you don't come soon, I'll come for you."

"I don't know that I'd mind," she replied, giving him a cheeky smile before scooping up his dishes and hers and heading to the sink.

If I wasn't so tired…. Once again, Kurama struggled to school his thoughts as he got to his feet, heading over to the couch. Asaki didn't have a lot of movies because she was never home to watch them. However, she did have a few of the ones they'd watched on a Christmas Eve that felt like ages ago. That night had been an exercise in self-restraint. She'd been so close and yet so far.

After picking out a movie, he put it in and sat down, glad to be off his feet and relaxing at last. He still had to make it home, but that was Future Kurama's problem. For now, he would just sit back and watch.

"Good choice," Asaki said when she joined him a few minutes later. She sat down beside him, and he immediately pulled her into his lap, making her gasp. "Kurama!"

"Stay," he whispered in her ear, and she stiffened before relaxing in his embrace.

"Fine, but you have to move. This isn't comfortable." They shifted so they were both lying down, facing the TV, Asaki's back against Kurama's chest. He buried his face in her hair, and she sighed, shaking her head. "You're incorrigible."

"I know," he said, holding her tightly. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she replied, taking the arm he had draped over her and lifting his palm to her lips. "I love you."

Those words. She couldn't possibly say them enough. "I love you too," he said, kissing her head once before settling in to watch. He lasted maybe ten minutes before falling asleep.

…

Kurama knew he was dreaming the moment he opened his eyes in a forest in Demon World. It could have been any forest, but the flora was far too "active" to belong to Living World. Kurama was standing in what looked like the defendant's seat in a courtroom. There was a place for witnesses and a lectern around which multiple demons were standing. A jury was off to one side on a raised dais, all staring down at him.

"Kurama the Yoko." One of the demons standing at the lectern spoke, but Kurama recognized neither the face nor the voice. What he did know was that he was being judged. "You stand here, guilty of countless crimes against demon- and humankind. How do you plead?"

Kurama frowned, still processing where he was and what was going on. "Guilty." Kurama had in fact committed many crimes in his past life as a thief. There was no sense in denying it.

"The sentence for your crime is death."

Of course, it is.

"Bring her forward."

Her? Kurama turned, his heart dropping to his feet as two large demons dragged a young woman with dark red hair to stand before him. Asaki looked up, and Kurama thought he would be sick. Her head was bleeding profusely, scratches tearing across her face. Her clothes were ripped and covered in blood as well.

"Asaki?" he breathed, staring, wide-eyed as the men threw her to the ground in front of the judges.

"She dies for your crimes as well," one of the judges said, and the jury cheered.

"No!" Kurama screamed, trying to leap from his seat. His hands were suddenly shackled, as were his feet, a ball and chain attached to each ankle. No matter how hard he struggled, he couldn't free himself. "Asaki!"

"It's okay," she whispered, smiling at him as tears began to stream down her face. "It's okay."

And then one of the demons raised a sword, swinging it at her neck. Kurama screamed-

He sat bolt upright, covered in sweat, his breath coming in short gasps. Asaki. It took him a few seconds to realize he was awake on a couch in a living room, a blanket draped over him and a pillow where his head had been. He must have fallen asleep.

Raking a hand through his hair, he got to his feet, taking slow, deep breaths, even as he trembled. Asaki. Asaki. Asaki. Swiping roughly at the tears in his eyes, he made his way to her room, opening the door and looking inside. There she was, sleeping soundly. He watched the rise and fall of her breathing, struggling to force his to match hers.

Asaki. He didn't want to wake her, but he also couldn't bear the thought of being alone right now. He closed the door behind him, softly so it didn't make a sound, before walking over to her. When he reached her, he gently touched her shoulder, surprised that her eyes opened immediately.

"Kurama?" she mumbled sleepily, sitting up. "What's…. Are you okay? You're crying."

He was. It wasn't like him, he knew that. Still, the thought of the woman before him dying for crimes he'd committed before they'd ever met, some before she was even born had broken something inside him.

"Can I sleep here tonight? With you?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

"Please," she said, pulling back the covers so he could climb in. The moment he was under the covers, she threw her arms around him, holding him close and pressing his head to her breast. "It's okay," she whispered. "I'm right here."

He wrapped his arms around her, his fingers digging into her back as he breathed her in. He could feel her heart beating against his face, steady and strong, could feel the warmth of her fire, all signs that she was alive. It would be okay. She was right here.

When she started humming softly, he was surprised. He'd only ever heard her sing once before, ages ago at karaoke. It wasn't something she did very often. She rubbed his back as the tune enveloped him in her sweetness. He was sure, tomorrow, that he could tease her if he really wanted to about her singing. But he wouldn't. Because he wanted to hear it more and more. The song was slow, soft, and warm, carrying him back back back to sleep….

This time, he didn't dream.