Wayward of the Flock

It's been a while, but I'm finally continuing this story. Some of my favorite authors started writing again so I decided, well why not me? Hope some of you guys are still here to read and review.

Also... Yes, Kurama has short hair. Yes, Hiei's hair is all-black and he has glasses. Sorryyy! Everyone in the story is human, so red eyes and white-streaked hair can't be natural. And since the school they're at is uber strict, they don't allow colored contacts or hair dye. Don't worry, you'll get your favorite bishie features back later in the story.

The lunch bell rang minutes later, and Yusuke couldn't be happier to get out of the classroom. Unfortunately, Mr. Iwamoto had asked Kurama to stay behind, so Yusuke had to go through the lunch line alone.

As he looked through the large, open metal fridge, Yusuke noticed something odd. There was no milk. He didn't really care—it wasn't like he had some emotional attachment to the milk—but it was weird. He thought every school served milk. Oh well, Yusuke thought as he took a bottle of apple juice from the box in the fridge. He followed the line, putting it out of his mind.

When he saw the food, Yusuke cheered up a bit. At least there was something normal in this school. Today's menu was pasta with some heavily-breaded mystery meat and marinara. The pasta was al dente and the marinara was watery, but that was normal for school food. He was almost thankful as he put a plate of the pasta on his tray. Further down, he could see a large assortment of fruit.

Just when Yusuke was about to take an apple, someone stepped on his heel. He turned, frowning, and saw the boy with glasses who had been reading back in the classroom. The boy was staring down at his tray, but Yusuke felt a very deliberate kick at his ankle. Annoyed, he was just opening his mouth when he noticed the boy was pointing toward the head of the line.

Yusuke turned to look. Not one of the three boys ahead of him had taken fruit. The prepackaged foods were almost gone, with only a few packets of Goldfish remaining. Yusuke watched as each of the three boys took a package from the pile. What was wrong with this picture…?

He started to turn back to the boy who had poked him, only to find a napkin on his own tray that hadn't been there a moment ago.

fruit is rotten The message was written in hastily scrawled pen, almost illegible.

Yusuke tucked the napkin under his plate and bypassed the fruit, taking one of the last two packets of Goldfish. He noticed that the boy behind him snatched up the other packet and quickly left the line.

For a second, Yusuke wasn't sure where to go. Most of the long tables were full. He glanced at the black-haired boy, watching him make a beeline for the table in the furthest corner.

He warned me about the fruit, Yusuke thought. He can't be that bad. Making up his mind, Yusuke followed the boy to the table in the corner.

As soon as he sat down, the boy snuck a quick glance up at him. Then he turned his eyes on the bit of napkin sticking out from under Yusuke's plate. Yusuke returned the napkin, and the boy immediately turned it over to the clean side. He slipped a battered-looking pen from the inside of his sleeve and began scribbling.

are you the new roommate Yusuke nodded shortly, and the boy, who must be the Hiei mentioned by Kurama, continued. don't eat all the goldfish

Yusuke didn't know why he shouldn't be eating the Goldfish, but he set aside the packet anyway. Hiei gave a short, approving nod.

They passed the next few minutes eating and ignoring each other. When Hiei tensed slightly, Yusuke glanced over his shoulder. Not a moment later, Kurama sat down beside him.

He looked awful. His beautiful red hair was mussed and he was shaking like a leaf. The little color his face had all seemed to have drained into his reddish nose. Yusuke couldn't get a good look at his eyes, but they looked red and puffy, as if he had been crying.

Yusuke watched curiously as Hiei's hand slipped away from his tray and under the table. Kurama blinked, his eyes quickly darting to meet Hiei's and then back down.

When Hiei nudged his own, unopened package of Goldfish across the table, Yusuke suddenly noticed that there was nothing on Kurama's tray but apple juice and the crusty, burnt part of the meat. Apparently Kurama had come to lunch too late to get any real food. Hiei pushed the packet forward insistently, but Kurama shook his head. Tears were starting to splash down his cheeks, falling onto the tray before him with little patters.

Yusuke felt the movement of Hiei's foot under the table, and when Kurama glanced up, Hiei was frowning sternly. Kurama sniffled, looking miserable as he opened the package and began to eat.

* * *

"Hold still, you idiot." It was said quietly so the sound wouldn't travel through the walls and sharply enough that volume wasn't needed anyway.

Yusuke frowned, trying to keep his legs from cramping. Classes had ended for the day, and now he was in the dorm with his roommates. At the moment, Kurama was laying on his side as Hiei had instructed, petting the mattress beneath him nervously. Yusuke and Hiei, in the meantime, were doing an odd balancing act in the center of the room. Yusuke squatted awkwardly while Hiei stood on his knees, unscrewing the light fixture from the ceiling.

It was frustrating. He had to hold still, his legs seizing up from all the weight on the unused muscles. Yusuke couldn't even look up to check Hiei's progress. Hiei may have been above the chain that the glowing light bulb hung from, but Yusuke would have to stare right at it. And he somehow didn't think he'd look good in glasses like Hiei's.

"Dammit Yusuke, stop shaking—"

"This isn't easy ya know!" Yusuke protested.

"Kurama never had a problem with it," Hiei grumbled.

"Yes I did," Kurama murmured, "but you get used to it after a while."

"Will you both just shut the hell... Got it."

The fixture came loose, and Hiei smirked as he moved it out of the way. He reached up into the hole where the light had been.

"So what have you got up there, anyway?" Yusuke asked. It couldn't be anything big; the light-hole was only a few inches wide.

"We keep a lot of things up there," Kurama murmured as Hiei pulled out a bottle and tossed it onto the mattress. "Some food, medicine, a flashlight..."

"Needs new batteries," Hiei said dismissively. He tossed a plastic baggy onto the mattress now, and Yusuke heard a metallic clink as the contents of the bag were jumbled.

"And whatever else we've managed to steal," Kurama finished. "I have a few pictures of my family up there, too."

Hiei took another bag from the hole and then hopped lightly down from his perch. Yusuke groaned in relief, trying to stand upright. His muscles were not agreeing with him, so he shuffled oddly to the end of the mattress and sat down near Kurama's feet.

Hiei was sitting beside Kurama now, opening the bags and sifting through the supplies. Kurama had turned slightly onto his back.

"Kurama, you know that's not going to work," Hiei said flatly, not looking up from the bandages he had just removed from a bag. Yusuke saw Kurama flinch and look away.

"It wasn't that bad," Kurama murmured.

"You were crying," Hiei argued. "It was bad enough."

Kurama bit his lip. He unbuttoned his shirt and took it off. Letting out a shaky sigh, the red-haired boy turned so that his back was exposed. Yusuke's stomach flopped over.

"Holy SHIT—"

"Quiet," Hiei snapped. He placed a hand on Kurama's shoulder, looking closely at the angry welts all over his back. His voice was gentler when he spoke to the redhead. "What did he do this with?"

"Cane."

"Iwamoto did that?" Yusuke breathed. The welts were almost bleeding. Bright red against white skin. Disturbing.

"It could have been worse," Kurama said waveringly.

Hiei sighed, shaking his head and opening the bottle he had taken from the light-hole. Hydrogen peroxide, Yusuke realized. Kurama let out a tiny cry when Hiei began pouring the chemical over his welts, but he took the pillow into his arms and shoved it up to his mouth, stifling any further sound.

...Christ, Yusuke thought, sickened. If they do things like this to a guy like Kurama, what would they do to me?

"Why?" Yusuke demanded.

"Why what?" Hiei asked without glancing up.

"Why did he do this? What did Kurama do?"

"When the fuck do bastards like that have a reason—"

"I was flirting with you."

Yusuke and Hiei both froze. Kurama had turned his head to the side so that he could speak, and the tears had returned.

"I'm sorry," Kurama whispered. He closed his eyes, rubbing his cheek against the pillow. "I'm really sorry. I-I can't help it. I'm sick." He started sobbing. "S-see, this is w-why my m-mother put me in h-here, so I c-could get better..."

"Kurama, I've told you this," Hiei said angrily. "You don't need to get better. You're not sick. Iwamoto is sick." It sounded like he had said it many times before.

Kurama didn't say anything more. He kept crying, little sobs audible, but he didn't say another word. Nor did Hiei speak as he resumed treating the welts on the redheaded boy's back.

Later that night, Yusuke lay awake on the edge of the mattress nearest the door. There were only a few inches of space between his front and Kurama's back. The red-haired boy was curled up with Hiei, head on the shorter boy's chest, his nightshirt covering the bandages Hiei had wrapped him in. Yusuke stared at the redhead's sweet face, streaked with tears and brows furrowed in pain even as he slept.

How could anyone treat Kurama so badly? The question plagued Yusuke until he fell asleep. And even in his dreams he saw Kurama, a redheaded angel screaming as the feathers were plucked from his wings.