MONDAY
Somehow, the annoying chimes of Kurama's digital alarm clock failed to rouse Hiei the following morning. By the time he dragged himself from beneath the downy, white comforter spread across their futon, his stomach was already growling for lunch. Hiei folded the blankets and futon sloppily and shoved them into the bedding closet, yawning all the while.
When he shuffled into the kitchenette, he found a package of pastries from the convenience store down the street set out on the island counter, along with a note. He shoved one of the flaky buns into his mouth, the taste placating him as he read through the brief message.
"Lesson Four," read the words, penned in Kurama's flawless handwriting. "Everyone must pull his weight."
The list of tasks that followed tempted Hiei to crumple the note into a ball and chuck it off the balcony, but he decided he'd rather not give Kurama any more reasons to be displeased with him. Kuwabara's debacle of a party had ended with a trip to the emergency room, along lectures from not only Kurama, but Keiko and Yukina. His sister's sullen frown had been the most painful to endure, though it was far less frightening than the evil eye Kurama cast upon him.
Hiei perched on one of the stools that was tucked under the counter and read the rest of the note carefully.
"1. Sweep the floor, 2. Clean the carpet, 3. Stay out of trouble."
He bit into another pasty and chewed slowly. The sweet jelly that gushed out and slipped down his throat cooled the fire building inside him. As if he could find any trouble in their empty apartment...
When he was through with breakfast, or lunch in this case, Hiei stared out across the living area that doubled as their bedroom. As his mother's home had been, Kurama's apartment was spotless. Hiei never considered how many chores were involved in keeping a residence so organized and tidy. Usually, when Kurama was occupied with mundane human tasks like cleaning, or paying bills, Hiei made himself scarce.
He chucked the rest of the pastries into the fridge and pulled on clean clothes. The broom was tucked into a little alcove beside the kitchen, next to the folded chabudai and some contraption that included a long hose and canister. Gripping the wooden broom handle in his hands, he surveyed the apartment as though it was a battle field, waiting to be conquered.
"Hn, pitifully simple," he said with a triumphant smirk.
In record time, every corner of the floor had been swept, and Hiei was left with a little mound of dust and other random particles. He looked to the terrace door, slid it open, and began pushing the dirt pile right onto the balcony. A few quick swipes sent the dust flying out through the gaps in the balcony railing, out of sight, out of mind. Hiei was feeling exceptionally pleased with himself, until he heard an angry shriek from the balcony below. He leaned out over the railing, and found a squat, dust covered housewife scowling up at him.
"Watch what you're doing!" she yelled. She was holding a watering can in one hand. The other hand was balled up into a fist.
Hiei knew Kurama would expect him to apologize. They had already been threatened by the cranky landlady more times than he could count, and another complaint from the neighbors would do little to appease her. Kurama would be more than a bit annoyed if he came home that night and found he had been evicted. Hiei opened his mouth, and was about to utter a hasty 'sorry', until the woman downstairs shouted up at him again.
"Clumsy kid!" she spat. "You should be in school!"
He gripped the broom handle so tightly it nearly snapped.
"And you should close your mouth," he growled back, "before I decide to come close it for you."
The irritated housewife was given no chance to respond. He slammed the glass door and stormed back inside, chucking the broom into the corner where it had been. Had they been in the Makai, that woman would already be dead, burned to a cinder or slashed neatly into ribbons. Hiei was no animal though, he possessed self control. He stilled his shaking hands and took deep, even breaths. Proving that he could play human was a matter of dignity now. Failing was beneath him. Hiei always came out on top.
Spread out in the middle of the floor, the carpet was waiting for him. As soon as Hiei began to pull it up, it became clear the rug was much too large for the washing machine, not that he knew how to operate it. He dragged it into the bathroom anyway, but squashed the whole thing into the small tub instead. While the tub filled with hot water, he dumped several generous splashes of the clothes washing liquid over the rug.
Hiei dropped to his knees once the carpet was submerged and began scrubbing. He churned the water with his arms, and it flowed through the knotted tan fibers until they were soaked and frothy with bubbles. The process was not much different from the way he had washed his clothing in rivers or lakes many times in the past. He could still recall the way streams of fresh blood would diffuse into the clear water, the blood of his enemies, and sometimes his own. He'd douse the fabric, then scrub it against a rock until it was clean and soft again.
The rug was heavy and unwieldy, but Hiei managed to rinse it and ring most of the remaining moisture out. Though it was still damp, he was able to spread it back across the floor, creating a perfect square in the center of the room. He dragged out the chabudai, unfolded the legs, and set it up. Around that, he arranged the four accompanying zabuton cushions, one for himself, one for Kurama, and two for guests, usually Yusuke and Kuwabara. Hiei even took the time to adorn the table with one of Kurama's potted flowers, which he thought was a nice touch.
Hiei folded his arms across his chest and took in the fruits of his labor. The furniture was aligned precisely, and the room smelled like fresh soap and blossoms. There was no way Kurama could possibly find fault in Hiei's work this time.
After that, he flitted up to the rooftop and reclined in the sun. For the rest of the afternoon, he dozed and lost himself in quiet contemplation. Only when he sensed Kurama's energy drawing near did he hop back down to the terrace.
It was still light out when Kurama let himself inside and set his shoes on the rack next to the front door. His work ethic was unmatched, but being the owner's son came with certain advantages. As long as deadlines were met and clients were happy, Kurama was able to set his own schedule. Hiei sat proudly at the kitchen island, snacking on some pre-dinner cookies. He watched the fox's reaction casually, but was holding back a fanged grin.
"The room looks pristine, Hiei," Kurama said. "I must admit, I'm pleasantly surprised."
"The tasks you assigned me were so exceedingly easy, any fool could have completed them," Hiei shot back.
Kurama chuckled and headed towards the dresser to find a change of clothes.
"I'm glad you're adjusting so well," he said, then slipped into the bathroom to freshen up and change out of his suit.
He emerged a few minutes later, wearing white slacks and a loose fitting green shirt. His hair was brushed neatly. He continued to toy with the long strands as he sat down at the table. Hiei observed, still satisfied with his handiwork, and watched as Kurama examined the room. His partner's expression slowly morphed, though, from an approving smile to a confused frown. Kurama looked down, patted the carpet, and then twisted awkwardly to feel his own legs and backside.
"Hiei, why is the rug all wet?"
"I cleaned it, obviously," Hiei replied with a patronizing roll of his eyes.
"You washed the rug..."
Kurama stared up at him incredulously. Hiei felt the warm flicker of pride in his chest shrink away, until nothing was left but a cold, hollow space. Then, Kurama unleashed a sigh that was so long and heavy and filled with despair that he might have collapsed in on himself. He did not chastise Hiei, however, he merely got up, walked towards the kitchenette, and picked up the machine Hiei had passed by earlier, the wide nozzle, corrugated black hose, and attached container.
"This is a vacuum cleaner," Kurama explained. "You use it to clean the carpet."
He plugged the device into the wall and flipped a switch on the handle. It came to life immediately and produced an abrasive roar that sounded to Hiei like an angry lizard. Kurama pulled the head of the wide, square nozzle off and held the tube up to Hiei's shirt, which was yanked away, forming a tent shape between the tube and his skin.
"An area of low air pressure is formed within the canister, which creates suction," Kurama said. "Hence the name vacuum."
"Thanks for the science lesson," Hiei spat, and slapped the annoying tube away from his clothing.
In the past, he might have run off at that point, rather than face the embarrassment of another failure. In that time gone by, Kurama was not there to caress his bare arm and beckon him closer. The vacuum was set aside, and Kurama wrapped his own arms around Hiei's shoulders to envelop him in a hug. Hiei would never admit, not in one hundred thousand years, how much comfort he gleaned from the warmth of these embraces, but Kurama knew.
Kurama never grew tired of his flaws, or his temper, or his general bad attitude. He would always be available to offer a bit of wisdom, a knowing glance, or a glimmer of helpful, healing magic. He had Hiei's back, either in battle, or here, in the privacy of their own home.
Hiei sank against him, glaring at the vacuum, but his aura of menace was superficial. Inside, he was giving in to Kurama's forgiving touch, the tenderness of his hands, and the softness of his cheek, that was buried in Hiei's fluffy mass of hair. He felt the vibration of Kurama's soothing voice, when he said,
"Keiko called me earlier and asked if we'd like to go out with her and Yusuke for dinner. I think she feels guilty about scolding you last night."
"She's a brave girl, I'll give her that," Hiei mumbled. "I've never met a human who so brazenly accosts demons who could kill her as easily as blinking."
Hiei felt Kurama's cheek muscles tense against the top of his head, which told him the fox was smiling.
"She is rather audacious, isn't she?" he laughed. "I wasn't sure if you'd be willing to go out, but considering our dining area is a bit damp at the moment..."
"Fine," Hiei huffed. He leaned away from Kurama and flashed a defeated scowl. "What kind of absurd human costume are you going to dress me in this time?"
"The usual will suffice," Kurama said.
When Hiei went out in public, he typically settled for a wardrobe of black, on black, with black accents. Though Kurama insisted the choice was somewhat gloomy, he allowed it as long as Hiei behaved himself.
"It seems I need a change of outfit as well," he added, patting the seat of his pants again.
Kurama phoned Keiko before they left.
"How does Italian sound?" he asked, once they were already dressed and groomed and out the door, heading to the train station.
"What is it?" Hiei asked.
"You've had it before," Kurama answered. "Pasta, tomatoes, meatballs, pizza, as well as a few traditional desserts such as tiramisu and cannoli."
The word 'dessert' was more than enough to pique Hiei's interest. He nodded and followed Kurama down the street.
"Seems tolerable."
"I thought you might like it," Kurama said.
Hiei did his best to keep his gaze on Kurama while the fox paid for their train tickets. He avoided leering at any offensive bystanders on the train platform, and stared into his lap while the train car sped down the track and brought them uptown. He'd always disliked the jostling, claustrophobic confinement of vehicles, but he kept the thought to himself.
As if in response to Hiei's clear disdain for their means of transportation, Kurama led him away from the busy thoroughfare and onto a side street that was far less congested. Hiei finally raised his head and took in the scenery. This road suffered no lack of humans, but the couples who strolled along were as calm as fish circling a pond. Their chatter was laid back, the soft murmur of a crackling fire. Pedestrians that passed Hiei smiled lazily, as though they had all the time in the world to reach their destinations. Such a relaxed environment was one Hiei could almost get used to.
Tucked back away from the street was an establishment lit up by strings of twinkling light bulbs that were entangled in a canopy of grape vines. Kurama paused to admire the lush foliage, then reached out, plucked a tendril from the vine, and shoved it into his hair. Hiei frowned at him.
"One never knows what might come in handy," Kurama said, and winked.
"Kurama, Hiei! Over here."
Just past the ornamented archway stood Keiko. She was dressed in a dark red skirt and white blouse, and was waving at them eagerly. Further investigation revealed Yusuke, hiding in the far corner of the patio on a wrought iron chair. His arms were crossed over the breast of his green blazer and his hair was down, combed rather than greased. Hiei was surprised to see that he had given up his usual jeans and ratty sneakers for a pair of dark pants and dress shoes.
"Well, don't the two of you look chic tonight," Kurama teased.
"Yeah, yeah, real classy..." Yusuke grumbled. "Can we just get on with the apology tour already?"
Keiko sprang on him like a viper and jabbed her finger dangerously close to his eye.
"Listen Yusuke, you owe everyone a night out after the way you embarrassed yourself at the party," she said. "It's really Kuwabara who you should be apologizing to, but he doesn't even want to be in the same room as you."
"I can't blame Kuwabara for avoiding any setting that involves cutlery at the moment," Kurama said.
"So I threw a knife into the guy's hand!" Yusuke said. "It's Hiei's fault anyway!"
"Don't involve me in your lover's quarrel," Hiei snapped. "I'm already paying my dues."
"Why don't we head inside and sit down?" Kurama suggested. He was nudging Hiei towards the door even as he spoke.
Hiei assumed that the food served at this particular restaurant must be incredible, because the place was packed full of patrons. Kurama went out of his way to charm the hostess, but the best table he could manage was smack dab in the middle of the dining area, locked in by diners and bustling waiters on all sides. Keiko and Yusuke were unperturbed, they had spent their entire lives in this busy city, constantly inundated by a barrage of human energies. Hiei, on the other hand, would have given almost anything to be back outside, wandering the tranquil street or lounging on the empty roof of a building.
Kurama placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed.
"Just think of this as more training for Saturday," he said.
"Right..."
Keiko and Yusuke were already seated, perusing their menus, by the time Hiei and Kurama joined them. Hiei perched on the edge of his chair uncomfortably, and kept his eyes averted when a waiter appeared and filled their glasses with water. If he said nothing, there was no way he could make a fool of himself.
Across the table, Yusuke tried to order a beer, but Hiei suspected Keiko had caused him some kind of dire injury when he jumped and quickly changed his drink selection to soda. Kurama leaned close, and peered over Hiei's shoulder at his menu.
"Does anything particular capture your interest?" Kurama asked.
"This," Hiei stated.
Kurama blanched and smiled awkwardly when Hiei pointed to the words Steak Delmonico in the entree section.
"Do you want it because you think you'll enjoy it, or because it's the most expensive item on the menu?" Kurama asked.
"Most expensive usually means biggest, which means I'll enjoy it," Hiei replied. He also knew that humans often valued objects that came with high price tags, which meant he must have excellent taste.
"I suppose we're not exactly hurting for money..." Kurama sighed.
The waiter returned with their drinks within a few minutes, and their orders were placed. To Hiei's selection, he commented, "A fine choice, sir," which prompted Hiei to turn and grin at Kurama smugly. Once the menus were cleared away, Keiko leaned across the table and struck up a conversation without missing a beat.
"So Kurama, how is everything at work going?"
"There's not much to report," he responded. "My days are mostly uneventful, but I suppose that's a good thing. And you? How are your studies progressing?"
Hiei was vaguely aware that Keiko attended a nearby university and was learning how to be a teacher. He imagined her work was not unlike the boring classes Kurama used to sit through as a teenager, with a bland instructor droning on for hours while the students wrote in notebooks and took tests. He couldn't help but feel sorry for her.
"I have this one literature class that's really time consuming," she griped. "Our professor expects us to read and analyze fifty children's books before the end of the semester and I've only gotten through about twelve."
"Future minds are in your hands," Kurama said, and Keiko laughed appreciatively.
Hiei's mind wandered and he focused on the instrumental music playing, the aroma of delicious food, and the rumble of his own stomach. Soon, Yusuke was pulled into the interactions as well, and the three of them joked and gossiped while dinner cooked. Hiei was completely lost in his own thoughts, wondering what other menial tasks and domestic tortures Kurama had planned for him tomorrow, and barely acknowledged the sound of Keiko speaking his name.
"What about you, Hiei?"
"What?"
"Your work in the demon world," she said. "Aren't you some kind of general?"
Hiei stared at Keiko blankly as he recovered from the shock of being addressed in such a manner. His work? What did she think he did when he was away? A condition of his alliance with Mukuro was that he could leave and return whenever he pleased, and he pushed the privilege to its limits. Since Koenma overthrew his father, the border between worlds had been stunningly quiet. He came when his mentor summoned, but lately his abilities were rarely needed. He hadn't been back to meet with Mukuro in ages.
When he did come to call, his duties ranged from mundane to grotesque. For months, he'd overseen the chore of erasing the memories of humans who came stumbling into the Makai. Every now and then, though, some conflict necessitated his presence in battle, at Mukuro's side. The last time she demanded his attendance, in fact, was to quell an uprising in one of her outlying territories. Hiei doubted Yusuke's civilized human mate would be interested in the more grisly aspects of demon life, but... since she asked.
"My most recent assignment was to help slaughter a group of apparitions who were razing remote villages," he said. "We arrived amid a frenzy of rape and plunder, but that was quickly put to an end when I murdered most of the rebels with my own hand."
"O-oh... how did that go?" Keiko stammered.
"I incinerated them," Hiei said, smiling darkly.
"Hiei..." Kurama's fingers were on the bridge of his nose, seemingly warding off a headache that had arisen without notice.
Yusuke did not react, other than to clamp both hands over his mouth and tremble with subdued laughter.
The waiter swooped in and placed salads in front of each of them a moment later. For the first time, Hiei looked down to examine the table setting more closely and realized that surrounding his plate were at least seven different utensils, including three forks. He glanced to his right for guidance, and noticed Kurama making a show of placing his napkin on his lap, then reaching for the outer fork on the left. Hiei followed his example and wolfed his salad down. It was about as flavorful as one could expect a bowl of leaves to be, but the dressing was tasty.
Their dishes of greenery were followed by cups of soup and a basket of bread. Hiei let Kurama take the lead when each course arrived, and did whatever he did. He listened in as Keiko chatted more about school, Yusuke complained about work, and Kurama conversed easily with both of them. Hiei's water glass was filled two more times before, at long last, an enormous slab of juicy meat and a pile of white, buttery mush were set down before him. This plate came with yet another utensil, a large, serrated knife. Without waiting for Kurama's guidance, Hiei jammed the knife into his steak, picked up the entire thing, and bit off a chunk.
"Hiei... you must be really hungry," Keiko commented.
He saw the girl was gawking at him. She was joined by several strangers at other tables. An older woman even lifted her hand to point.
"Hey, why bother with a fork?" Yusuke laughed. "If you really don't want to wait, Hiei, maybe you should just use your hands."
Hiei had used his bare fingers to eat meat plenty of times before, of course, but it was obvious Yusuke was mocking him. He had mind to reenact the game they'd played at Kuwabara's party and hurl the knife across the table, but held back. Kurama reached out calmly and handed Hiei the largest of his forks.
"The last fork is for dessert," he said softly.
Hiei sliced off small pieces of his steak and finished it without further incident. Keiko commented how surprised she was that someone of his size could devour such a huge helping of meat, which he thought was a jab at his height at first, until he took note of her impressed smile. The highlight of the meal came when Kurama ordered Hiei something called cheesecake. Now, Hiei had eaten cheese, and he had eaten cake, but he had no idea the peculiar marriage of the two could be so delicious. His cake arrived, dripping with fresh strawberries in a red syrup. A row of whipped cream blossoms decorated the side of the dish. With only one fork left, Hiei dove in, and licked up every last bite.
When dinner was through, they bid Yusuke and Keiko farewell at the train station, and went their separate ways. After the short ride back to Kurama's neighborhood, they walked very slowly. Kurama was taking a longer route home than usual. Hiei kept his hands in his pockets as they strolled, and stared above him. Beyond the light pollution of the city, he could spy faint stars and a silvery summer moon.
"Lesson five," Kurama broke the silence, "there is a tool for everything. A vacuum to clean the carpet, a steak knife for steak, a dessert fork for cake."
"As I did when I killed those demon rebels, I could complete all those tasks with my own two hands," Hiei stated.
"True enough," Kurama said. "But you did well adhering to the constraints of human dining etiquette."
"And what about that vine you stole from the restaurant?" Hiei asked. They were outside the main entrance to their apartment building now. "What do you hope to accomplish with that tool?"
Kurama keyed his entrance code into the panel on the wall and the doors clicked open. Not wasting a single breath, he pulled Hiei into the dim hallway and held him close. Polite, public Kurama disappeared, replaced with the Kurama that only Hiei had the privilege of seeing. Soft lips grazed the side of his neck, and Kurama whispered,
"I can think of a few things..."