Well … obviously, the hope of achieving at least one more chapter before Christmas was unrealistic. I found myself working up until the very last minute getting everything done and in. But, at least I got everything done and in, eh?

So then, this is the second-to-last chapter, "Flight." It's funny, that I intended to post this in between updates of "Was It Out of Pity?" and "Jagamino," but this is near completion and I don't believe I've touched the latter of those two in some time … I'll need to remedy that. Eh, but until then:

Black Roses
Chapter VII
Flight
January 2, 2007

Hiei stepped off the bus. He could walk the rest of the way.

He reared back as two small children, a boy and a girl, darted past him, completely oblivious to the dozens of the adult feet trying to dodge them. Hiei turned, his eyes following them. They were chasing after a small origami animal, bright white against the gray day. The wind must have snatched it away from them.

The paper figure blew over an air vent and immediately shot upwards, far beyond the children's reach. They stood on the sidewalk, staring helplessly at the little treasure as it flew away.

Kurama's eyes looked so hollow when Hiei left. The Koorime took one look at him and wavered, wondering if he should postpone his return to Alaric. However, he didn't want it to appear that he was hovering. That, and the affair that he pretended to know nothing of—Kurama frequently disappearing and then reappearing with Yomi, Hiei catching the warlord's scent every time he came to Kurama's room, Kurama's insistence every time of bathing before coming to him—had begun to sour him. He could feel it, manifesting deep inside of him, and though he told himself it had no right to take root, it spread. He didn't want his jealous affliction to shake his support for Kurama.

The Fox gave him a painfully fake smile and a shaky hug, and wished him a safe journey home.

A few days later, Mukuro entered Hiei's suite bearing a package. "One of Yomi's messengers brought it," she said. "Though it appears that they didn't take extreme care with it; these are already wilted."

"What—?"

Something fell onto the table, right by Hiei's propped foot. He stared at the item: a rose petal. It was red, but not the bright, near-magenta color that Kurama favored. No, this shade was considerably darker, and as Mukuro noted, it had long-since lost its freshness. The edges had dried and shriveled up, the curled tip almost the same color as Hiei's boot.

A black blur zigzagged from branch to branch and roof to roof. His heart pounded; he was wrenched with the fear that there was a finish line he would not reach, a deadline he would not meet.

He slipped on an ice-slicked branch, lost his footing, and fell face-first into the snow and mud below. Cursing, he picked himself up and wiped the wet earth off his face. His hands were numb and trembling, his eyes hot and stinging. Now was not the time for his nerves to best him, he thought angrily. For every misstep, that he in this anxious state made, Kurama—.

"Hiei!"

The Koorime looked up—and quickly bent backwards to avoid being smacked in the head with an oar. "Hiei," Botan said, gesturing to the instrument, "get on."

"I'm not straddling that contraption!" he snarled. He had to reach Kurama, and loathed Botan right now for getting in the way.

"Hiei, you have to help me find Kurama!" the ferry-girl practically screamed. "He's in trouble—and Koenma doesn't want to stamp his papers!" He stared, taken aback. Botan gave him a pitiful look. "I need your eye, Hiei. I don't have the time to go to the wrong place."

"His house, right there!"

"Where?!"

"There!" Hiei pointed. He narrowed his eyes. The front of Kurama's house was choked in something … "Just follow me!" he growled, jumping off. He landed in the street and sprinted for the dwelling—and then stopped, and staggered backwards, captivated by the horrific sight that rose up before him.

The monstrosity snaked across the house's face like vines, branching out, division upon division. Hiei stared at it—a hideously beautiful hydra of roses the color of obsidian. They towered over him like a declaration of defeat. "Forgive me,"they seemed to plead.

Botan had already rushed past him. "Come on!" she yelled.

He looked. She had kicked the door in and gone inside. '… Didn't know she could do that,' he thought numbly.

"Hiei, get in here!"

He complied, even thought it took an effort to move his legs.

The living room was a mess, but then, it had always been. 'This was why you never unpacked … This was only a pit stop….' He slipped on something and almost fell, but grasped the arm of the couch. An ibuprofen container rolled out from under his foot. He gaped, revolted, at what appeared to be the contents of Kurama's medicine cabinet, scattered on the floor in front of the couch. All were open, all were empty.

Hiei sank onto his knees. A small, defeated cry resembling a sob escaped him. "It didn't have to be this way!" he hissed, a tear rolling down his cheek.

Had it been that bad, he wondered. Had Kurama's flesh become his prison, with his soul withering inside like a flower deprived of light? Had breaking out been his final means of salvation? Had it been that bad?

Botan was crying somewhere nearby. Hiei wiped his eyes and looked around, realizing that he … that he hadn't seen Kurama's body yet. He noticed that the carpet beneath him was rubbed the wrong way. It created a trail, leading to the bathroom. Botan was there, kneeling by the bath. The Koorime did a double take, and bristled when he saw that she wasn't alone: She held a limp, redheaded figure over the edge of the tub, frantically splashing his face with cold water, but he wasn't responding.

"Hey." Someone tapped him on the shoulder. "It's this way."

His guide was Kuwabara. 'Naturally,' he thought, but the typical animosity between them had been shocked into dissipation. He nodded his gratitude and followed the other down the hall.

"I know he was getting distant," Kuwabara declared softly, "but I thought … I don't know, that maybe he was adjusting to moving out or something—but he still never seemed that bad, you know?"

'No,' he thought morosely, 'he hadn't.' At least, not until he began to talk about death and those grisly black roses.

Kuwabara heaved a sigh, and then asked in a hoarse voice, "Did he ever say anything to you? I mean, did he really want to die?"

It took Hiei a moment before he could reply. "I think he didn't want to die, so much as he was afraid to live."

"… It's, um, it's in here," Kuwabara murmured, opening a door.

Immediately, Hiei and his flowers attracted stares. He ignored them. His attention concerned only one person right now.

Someone had combed Kurama's hair so that it shone like a red corona around his face and shoulders. He looked like he was sleeping. Hiei knew better.

He suddenly felt the urge to kiss Kurama, as he had the night he found the Fox crying in the dark. Not caring what anyone made of it, he leaned forward and brushed his lips against Kurama's. The stares intensified.

Hiei paid them no mind. 'I'm sorry, Kurama,' he thought, pulling away. He placed his roses on the table, and left.