Sagaku felt as well-rested a she would ever be the next morning. Her stomach protested each and every movement she made, but she made it to the bathroom and peeled off clothes-not the clothes that had been stained and ruined by blood. She hoped feverently that it was Keiko who helped change her and not one of the men. Since no one had said anything about the bandages, she peeled them off as well. The wounds she exposed on her stomach and thigh made her want to puke. She held the nausea back if only because the idea of being sick made her stomach hurt that much worse. At least, she mused, the gash in her stomach hadn't obliterated the piercing that held moss agate at her belly-button.
Turning the shower on, Sagaku stepped into lukewarm water and let it wash off the last of the blood and grime from her skin and hair. No matter how many times Yusuke and Keiko tried to convince her that hot showers were better, she wouldn't do it. It was bad enough the water came from pipes and not a spring-hot water seemed all that much more unnatural. Chilly as she was, she considered turning it up hotter but chickened out.
Keiko examined her friend tearfully when Sagaku entered the kitchen.
"Don't scare me like that!" she cried, hugging Sagaku gingerly. Sagaku hugged her back, ignoring the protesting wince in her stomach.
"Keiko, we talked about this," Yusuke said in a bored tone. "It's her job to get beat up. They're minor-ish wounds. Yada yada." Sagaku smiled gratefully at Yusuke who ruined it by continuing. "And Sagaku, if you ever scare us like that again, I'm setting Keiko on you."
"Deal," Sagaku deadpanned. "If I ever screw up that badly, you have my permission to beat me up, Keiko."
They ate their breakfast while Keiko and Yusuke planned out their day of running errands and working. Sagaku didn't feel up to work-either Koenma's job or the few hours she still took at the restaurant on occasion.
"On your way out, can one of you drop me off on Kurama's campus?" Sagaku asked as the meal started to wind up. "I think I want to stick with someone today."
"Why not Kuwabara?" Yusuke suggested.
"One, he has a job," Keiko ticked off her finger, "and two, he has no medical experience."
"Exactly," Sagaku agreed. She rolled her eyes at Keiko in solidarity-really, how did Yusuke not put two and two together?
"Fine," Yusuke groaned. "I'll drop you off on campus."
The campus was small but crowded. Without knowing exactly where Kurama's current class was being held, Sagaku chose a bench that had just opened up and sent him a quick text that she was around. She must have been there for over an hour, turning stones over in her fingers mindlessly; she was in a light meditative state when the beautiful redhead sat next to her.
"Sagaku," Kurama greeted her. He held his wrist to her forehead quickly, checking her temperature. "Are you okay?"
Sagaku leaned in to Kurama, considering her answer. "I'm fine for now," she answered. She gnawed on her lower lip for a moment. Kurama waited patiently. "I have a problem coming soon, though," Sagaku admitted. The heavy pit in her stomach grew.
Kurama stiffened beside Sagaku, wrapping a protective arm around her. "What is it?" he asked. "What's wrong?"
"You know there have been more demons finding their way to the Ningenkai," Sagaku said. She didn't wait for him to respond. "Demons all over the place. And pretty soon my cycle is going to start again. See the problem?"
She couldn't meet his eyes. Why should she be ashamed of her biology, she wondered? All the same, guilt and shame washed over her. Maybe it was because she wasn't a naive little girl this time. Shoseki and Mineo had explained everything-everything-about being in heat to her.
"What about the serpentine?" Kurama asked. "Can't you use the serpentine to temper it again?"
"I can't," Sagaku said falteringly. Oh, how she wanted to though. "Shoseki's mother used serpentine to stop her heat once she'd married his father. Each time she stopped it, the energy was turned back in her. Nature always wins. That's how she died."
"I see," Kurama said. He swallowed, trying to think of a solution. "This is a problem. We'll need to find you somewhere safe to stay. With Koenma, maybe? Or Genkai?"
Sagaku stayed silent. How could she decide where to seclude herself again? That panic and loneliness she felt last time would be a mere shadow compared to this time. She just wanted to stay home.
"We'll think of something," Sagaku said bleakly after the silence had grown into a chasm. "I don't want to leave again, but if it means not putting anyone in danger…" Sagaku swallowed. When she stood, Kurama's arm falling from her shoulders, she tried to smile reassuringly at him and then walked away. Kurama was left on the bench alone, desperately trying to find a solution.
Hiei watched Kurama approach his territory. Though the fox was generally welcome, he looked drawn and uncomfortable. The fox knew where he was-Hiei watched his eyes flick towards the trees to exactly where Hiei hid-but he waited patiently at the front door.
"What's wrong?" Hiei dropped from the trees, landing beside his friend.
"We need to find a guard for Sagaku again," Kurama told him.
Hiei opened the door wordlessly, following the fox to the small table in the kitchen. Kurama slumped in one of the two seats, dropping his head into his hands. With narrowed eyes, Hiei waited for more explanation until it became apparent that it would not be forthcoming.
"She's…?" Hiei didn't finish the question. No matter how natural the matter at hand was, it was hard to admit he had a weakness. It didn't matter that nearly every male demon and most male humans suffered the same weakness.
"She is," Kurama confirmed. "I suggested she go to Koenma, or Genkai."
"She refused," Hiei surmised. It wasn't a surprise, really. He'd seen himself how stubborn she'd become. Kurama groaned in frustration. Unabashedly, Hiei slipped with ease through his friend's thoughts. Kurama was fond of Sagaku, but the fact that she was specific for breeding was causing him quite a bit of stress.
"She can't stay with you," Hiei said.
"Not with my mother and step-family there," Kurama replied. "She can't stay at her apartment because it puts Keiko at risk. She can't stay with Kuwabara, because then it's Shizuru at risk."
Kurama turned his speculative eyes to Hiei. The red of Hiei's gaze was barely visible, his eyes narrowed as they did so frequently around his friends. He knew what the fox wanted of him. It was logical. They couldn't all drop everything like they had two years ago. Plus, he was quite certain he was strong enough to protect himself and the onna when, not if, it came to it. And there were no fragile humans living with him. No one else would be in danger.
The silence grew thicker and thicker as Kurama waited for Hiei to answer the unspoken question.
"Fine," Hiei relented bitterly. "But only once it starts, and she's gone the second it ends." Why, he immediately wondered, why had he agreed to this? His self control would be tested, but he would have to stay in control. No matter how difficult it became. "Order her to come here when it's time."
"How about I just let her know instead," Kurama said drily. His tone aside, Hiei could feel the relief pouring off his friend.
Kurama joined his friends at their apartment that night, ready to inform Sagaku of the proposed plan. Instead, he stayed for dinner and laughed at the antics of Keiko and Sagaku as they chased Yusuke out of the kitchen. He kept sneaking back in to steal bites of the cooking food. After dinner, when Yusuke caught on to Kurama's subtle hints and distracted Keiko by offering to let her choose the movie, Kurama pulled Sagaku aside. The skeptical look Sagaku gave him after hearing his plan made him want to hit Hiei over the head. And Sagaku, too, for that matter.
"Hiei agreed to this?" Sagaku asked. She leaned against Kurama, letting him rub her arm comfortingly while she twisted an elastic in her hair.
"I won't say he was enthused, but it was the logical decision." Kurama grinned apologetically down at the rabbit demon. She stuck her tongue out at him.
"Write down directions," Sagaku told Kurama. She pulled away from him. "It's going to be any day now, so I'll need to be prepared."
"I will. I'll leave it by your bed." Kurama gave his friend a hug. He wished he could help her more. She swatted him playfully after hugging him back.
"Come on," she said, "Keiko and Yusuke will think we ditched them." And so off they went to watch a silly romantic comedy for the next hour and a half.
Kurama left for home feeling a little more settled now that he knew Sagaku would be taken care of. He had a kind heart to begin with, but Sagaku had become a close friend since that first day she'd punched him in the nose.
Sagaku read over the sheet of paper. Kurama had written down clear and concise directions as promised. The stones pulsed softly that night, soothing against her skin. Her skin felt like it might crack-not from the healing wounds, but from the racing heat the stones sent through her veins to fight against the numbness. It was a hopeless battle. The worst would be coming. Soon.
Several nights later, as Hiei read a book in his window (his favorite pastime when he was alone), he sensed a new presence. No, not new, he corrected himself, glancing through the glass. It was the girl rushing at breakneck speed towards his Ningenkai home. She disappeared between trees for a moment, but he could still sense the familiar feel of her mind heading towards him. It was tinged with panic, the mental shields she'd kept up recently cracking under her own nerves.
The door was unlocked. Sagaku threw herself at, fumbling with the knob. She had hurried there, in her ridiculous, long-sleeved pajamas, the second she was alerted to the change in her body. Hiei felt no shame in her mind, just that terrified, blind panic that said she was afraid of her own body right now.
Hiei took his time opening the door, steeling himself against the forthcoming scent. Face pale with terror and eyes widened absurdly, the girl in front of him wouldn't have resembled Sagaku were it not for the many stones decorating her and the unruly mop of hair. He stepped aside silently to welcome (perhaps welcome was too strong a word) the girl into his house a second time.
Sagaku's fingers stung with cold. She couldn't even control their fumbling with the lock. Hiei made no move to help her. With a final "click", the bar finally slid into place. That desperate fear that had fueled her mad run to Hiei began to abate. Sagaku wanted to throw herself at Hiei. No one could understand how cold she was, how the arctic had somehow migrated inside her and was freezing colder by the minute. But when she turned, trying to hide the hope in her eyes, he was staring at her so dully she shrank back against the door. Her palms flattened against the solid wood.
Hiei struggled to keep his expression bland. Even breathing through his mouth didn't work; the taste of her was in the air. He tried to tell himself it was just a trick of his mind, but even he knew that was nonsense.
There was nowhere for Sagaku to stay unless Hiei gave up his bedroom. The couch, which he had unconsciously slated for her, was in the living room. It was too open. Plus, and he hated to even admit this as a possibility, if she needed to protect herself from him she would need a lock on her door.
Anger tinged the snarl that ripped from Hiei's mouth into something infinitely more ferocious. He stalked to his bedroom, grabbing one of the only two pillows. At least he wouldn't need a blanket given his ability to regulate his own heat. From the vague, shadowy feelings that were still emanating from Sagaku's mind, he suspected she would need more blankets than he owned. (He only owned one, so it wasn't a particularly insightful guess.)
Hiei marched angrily back into the living room, throwing his pillow onto his couch. Sagaku stepped forward warily, eying the couch doubtfully, but Hiei's glare froze her in place again. How had he been demoted to couch in his own house?
"Get in there," Hiei told the onna stonily, pointing to his room. Her eyes flicked to it with surprise. Her jaw tightened.
"I'm not kicking you out of your own room," Sagaku argued. Once again, Hiei found himself surprised by the onna. He closed his eyes, rubbing his face in a brief show of weakness as eh tried to gather his wits to him.
"The living room is least secure," he managed to drawl out. "Go. to. The. bedroom."
The command left Sagaku quite unmoved. Hiei took the plunge and grabbed her arm, which was almost fully healed now, and pulled her the extra seven steps to his bedroom door. A rough shove sent her stumbling in and he slammed the door shut behind her.
"I feel like you're an evil step-mother," Sagaku muttered from inside his room.
Hiei tried to control the flaring temperature that bespoke his anger. The demoness was invading his territory. He forced the instinct down, calming himself and rationalizing to himself why he couldn't let his guard down.
"Lock the door," he growled. When there was no sound of compliance from his room, he growled sharper, "lock the door, now."
Malevolence dripped from Hiei's voice. Sagaku obediently locked the door before looking around the dark room. It was very plain, compared to the other rooms she'd been in for the past two years. The walls were off-white. The only decoration was a pair of crossed katanas. The bed was covered in black sheets with only one pillow leaned against the headboard. It was a large bed for only one demon, but still smaller than the mattress she and her sisters had shared in the warren. She wasn't sure how she felt sleeping on it.
The shivers and tremors that rippled up and down Sagaku's back finally convinced her to climb into the bed. She curled into the comforter that smelled too strongly of Hiei and willed herself to sleep. At least his scent invoked a false sense of warmth.
Soft taps followed Hiei back and forth in the living room. He couldn't stop pacing, trying to work the anger out. The fox should have remembered he didn't have an extra bedroom. He should have thought to mention it. But Kurama had probably assumed Hiei would be happy to give up his room, as if everyone were as stupidly altruistic as the damn fox. For a moment, Hiei considered paying a surprise visit to the fox to give him a piece of his mind. But the scent was too strong-so much stronger than he remembered it being. He would come back to his house destroyed and the girl missing.
Dreams that had never tainted Sagaku before spun seductive tales in her mind. Dreams of fire and heat, and the intimidating but enticing things Shoseki and Mineo had tried to explain to her. When she woke up, the dreams slipped away leaving frost in their place. A thought tickled far in the depths of her mind, where she desperately strained to keep it. That heat could be hers if only she was brave enough to ask for it.
Sagaku stumbled to the bedroom door on stiff, frozen feet and hesitated. Would she be allowed out of the room? Well, there wasn't much of an option she realized. Not unless Hiei expected her to use a chamber pot or some other since nonsense (she conveniently forgot that in the warren, that was the "nonsense" she'd relied on). Bracing herself, she flung the door open. Hiei stared at her stonily from the window sill before continuing to polish his katana.
After taking care of her bathroom needs, Sagaku creeped into living room again. Hiei studiously ignored her. His katana, at this point, would have turned any mirror green with envy.
"I'm sorry," Sagaku told Hiei miserably. Her hands rubbed up and down her arms trying to chafe feeling back into them. Hiei pretended not to notice for a minute until curiosity got the better of him.
"For what?" he asked.
"Coming here," Sagaku's teeth chattered between words, "I know Kurama said he talked to you first, but I didn't. It's not fair to you…" she trailed off after biting her tongue painfully.
It wasn't fair. Not really. But Hiei understood the fox's reasoning and the pitiful picture the creature in front of him made was making him uncomfortable.
"Don't apologize," Hiei ordered. His jaw squared, his mouth set grimly.
Sagaku huddled in the corner of the room in silence. If she had ever been in such an uncomfortable position, she couldn't remember it now. Luckily, or unluckily really, her condition distracted her from everything else.