Disclaimer: All fandom-based and real-life entities, including other art and literary works mentioned in this piece do not belong to the author with the exception of original characters, plot, and subplots. The views and opinions of the characters do not necessarily reflect that of the author.
Zwischenzug
by four-eyed 0-0
Part V
"When you fall in love, the natural thing to do is give yourself to it. That's what I think. It's just a form of sincerity."
― Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood
o-o
Bullshit
Three weeks of not doing anything except for going over and over the list Koenma had provided was such a bore—not to mention ultimately pointless as she found out nothing; it was just a list of scientists she referenced in her published studies and met at one point in her life, some introduced to her by Yamamoto and Urawa or by some other colleague.
Koenma had earlier reported that there were no filed cases of missing scientists over two years, as far as the human police force could see. And the Russian guy she talked about? It seemed he'd gone insane and the family, fearful as they were, didn't release the news for the public to feast on. Perhaps there was some hope in the scientific community if something as gossip-worthy as such didn't reach her and her friends.
Bored as she was, Chiaki managed to clean the whole temple a few corners at a time the past week. She had also gone to help Kurama with his aimless gardening and beat Urameshi and the other men in fifty percent of the games in the console.
One time, she spent a whole afternoon staring at Hiei who was perched on a branch of the tallest maple tree in the backyard and he stared back with glazed eyes, his chin buried into his white scarf while she sweated in her tank top and shorts. Kurama later laughed at her when she told him, saying it must have been Hiei's doing all along.
In her many ventures in the entirety of the temple, she stumbled upon a hidden room overlooking the vast property Genkai had left and found the most unusual and largest bird she had ever laid her eyes on. Her butt felt so raw after she fell backwards in her fright, and Urameshi had a good time laughing his jaws off.
It turned out the phoenix-looking, blue-feathered bird with a peculiar mop of black hair and incessant soft chirping of, "Puu!" was, simply put, Puu. Urameshi's "spirit beast." Or spirit animal. Whatever. Chiaki didn't feel like giving a care that much about its genus. The huge blue bird was cute, in a sense. She spent a whole afternoon watching him tweeting, unable to comprehend how something initially so horrifying could turn out to be quite adorable. She made it a point to go see him when she could, volunteering to feed him with Keiko.
She also came across Genkai's butsudan, and only then was she able to gaze at the wizened master's face that lazily gazed and smirked at the onlooker. She paid her respects and continued sweeping the floors. Botan said she was able to see Genkai's youthful face more than once and that it was probably the most beautiful face she'd gazed at in her lifetime. Chiaki was left to wonder.
This morning after breakfast she chose to stay under the shade of a tree and read a book she'd managed to find in one of the empty rooms, seemingly discarded. It was on Japanese mythology, and while she enjoyed a refresher on the subject, she missed her worldly scientific journals.
She missed Todai, even with her imbecile students always sneering at her. Granted, it was the summer holidays, but she missed her old life the same.
"Chiaki!"
She looked up from the book and to Keiko who was waving at her from one of the many temple verandas.
"We're going to the beach!"
Her heart missed a beat and she ran up to Keiko like a kid on a summer festival. "Seriously?"
"Yes, the guys consented with a little pushing in our part," said Keiko, nodding. "They'll have to come with us, of course."
The two of them went inside. Upon a realization, Chiaki stopped, her hope for a different, less boring day snuffed out. "I don't have a bikini."
Keiko smiled at her. "We kept a few sets somewhere, Shizuru's gone to find them. Something will fit you, don't worry."
They stared at each other and giggled.
After two hours of harried, excited preparations and loading containers with drinks and the essentials for a beach barbecue, Hiei and Chu were left in the temple as the rest of the group paraded to the beach some three miles away.
Chiaki felt incredibly giddy from the prospect of a bright summer day in a beach that she chatted incessantly with the girls in their trek. She learned the beach was quite memorable, as it was where Keiko and Urameshi shared their first kiss as an official couple.
Strangely, she remembered her and Isamu's. It was a winter's night, a few days before Christmas. He'd gone out with her for dinner and drove her home. It was at her doorstep, out in the open walkway. They just stared at each other and laughed before he leaned in to close the gap. She kissed him back and he pulled her in his arms before he said goodnight.
"Chiaki, are you blushing?" said Shizuru.
"Was I?" she said, feeling for her cheeks. "I was smiling like an idiot just now, wasn't I?"
"You still are, professor," said Botan excitedly. "Did you remember something?"
"Someone." She grinned at her friends. "Isamu, to be exact."
The four females' eyes glazed over and she waved their worries off.
"Don't look at me like that. It's a happy memory."
It really was. She wondered if she would rather think of him as a happy memory from now on. He deserved it—to be a happy memory, to finally give her peace of mind. Perhaps thinking of him that way was one step to move forward.
Not to "un-love" him; she'd realized there was no such thing.
o-o
Kurama heard it. Yusuke was busy laughing with Kuwabara and Jin but he clearly heard her refer to her first kiss with Urawa as a happy memory.
He felt strange—his chest was full and empty at the same time.
He didn't understand the sensation fully and he tried shrugging it off by joining in on the chat the males had been going on about since they'd left the temple, as unsuccessful his attempts were.
An hour of walking later, they reached the seaside ridden of people but their group as it had always been. Deciding that the area by the rock formations were perfectly distanced from the tideline, Kuwabara helped erect the huge umbrella they'd managed to unearth from a stockroom while he spread the picnic blanket. After Yusuke set up the grill, Shizuru, Yukina, and Aoshi took over, taking out the barbecue from the ice chest.
He heard the sizzle of the grill as he watched the familiar beach with a feeling of nostalgia. It was one that they'd visited time and again, but it had been over a year since they last came here.
In fact, when he thought of it, it was over a year since they needed to seek exile. It went to show that even though their progress in forging better relations between humans and demons was not exactly one to be very proud of, things had been better.
Some of them went straight for the water while the others started a volleyball game, and Kurama opted to help out with the barbecue. Aoshi constantly checked the progress of the game, cheering for Keiko and Botan as she fanned the smoking grill.
Kurama found himself staring at the professor as he held out sticks Shizuru and Yukina prepared for her to take. It was the first time he'd seen her with her hair in anything other than a bun, this time wearing her jet-black locks in a tight French braid that reached the low of her back. Just above the loose, white off-shoulder shirt she wore, the black halter strap of her bikini peeked out.
He caught himself and shook his head before his eyes could survey the rest of her.
But he didn't help himself from noticing the blue board shorts and sandals she wore. He told himself the operative word was "notice".
Inari, what am I to do?
He worried he wouldn't be able to resist taking in the rest of her when she finally emerged from her clothes.
His worst fears stared him in the eye when, after finishing grilling most of the sticks, Aoshi decided to go for a swim with Botan and Keiko. He turned away as she took off her shirt and shorts, concentrating on fanning the cinders.
"Kurama."
She just called for him. He fanned with a slightly renewed vigor.
Her folded shorts and shirt were shoved under his nose. "Hey, Kurama, could you toss these to my bag?"
He took them wordlessly and turned to do as she asked.
"Are you all right?"
He wanted her to go away already. "Yes, thanks for asking."
She suddenly laughed aloud, pushing him by the shoulder. It sent sparks to the back of his neck so the hairs stood on end despite the summer heat. "Oh, I get it."
This prompted him to straighten up, gripping the articles of clothing that belonged to her.
"It's okay to look. Doesn't make sense if I get offended if you do while I'm wearing this, does it? But please don't get any ideas. I'm not trying to look good for anyone and certainly not asking for it."
Kurama didn't move. Not even a sinew or a fiber in his body dared to will his head to turn her way, even when it would have ridden him of the guilty image she was trying to emphasize.
Aoshi continued to laugh before the scraping of her feet on the sand was heard, retreating as she apparently ran up to join the others.
"Some tush she's got, don't you think?" said Shizuru.
He wasn't sure what was more unsettling—that the professor thought it was her distrust towards men that drove him to act the way he did or that he found himself mentally agreeing with Shizuru when he unintentionally turned to see for himself.
He visibly swallowed then went back to attending to the grill.
o-o
Suffice it to say that Chiaki was having the most fun she'd had in a month. The summer sun beat down on her skin that was beginning to flush but it didn't matter. It was as it should be.
A few more laps and she got out of the water, running to the picnic spot to put on her board shorts and help herself to some barbecue. Sitting next to Shizuru who was drenched with seawater as everyone else, she silently nibbled on the grilled meat.
It had gotten a lot hotter since the first time she took a dip so she was thankful for the ice-cold soda Kurama handed to her before walking away to join the boys, who, in their shorts, were perched on top of the rocks, laughing about things she didn't hear to understand.
Chiaki squinted to look at their lot, thinking she'd never seen bodies as toned as theirs. Still, Kurama seemed to look misplaced, with his long, crimson hair and strong effeminate looks despite the clear lack of boobs.
She voiced this out to the girls so that they all choked on their drinks and food. The consequent laughter that followed seemed to be sudden and boisterous enough that the male crowd turned to them just as Botan rolled off the blanket from her hysterical giggling.
"Kurama's been checking you out, did you notice? Shishi, too," said Shizuru as soon as the laughter died down.
Yukina, dressed in her modest Capri pants and T-shirt, surreptitiously looked at the subjects of their hushed conversation as though to see for herself. Her mouth formed a small 'O'.
Chiaki wrinkled her nose. "Let them stare. I'm not asking for it, anyway."
But really, she felt affected now that other people actually noticed. She couldn't care less about Shishiwakamaru, but Kurama's stolen glances didn't sit well with her. Not even when she told him she wouldn't be affected.
It was true that she'd granted all of the world permission to look at her bikini-clad form since she'd chosen to wear one—it wasn't like she'd never worn one before—but now the fact that she caught his notice brought a strange sensation she hadn't felt in years.
Something she hadn't felt since Isamu.
Perhaps it was his teasing and his comebacks and his concern for her well-being. Chiaki chose to keep mum and pretend she didn't feel any of it but she was no stranger to gestures such as his.
She felt he cared when he found a way to keep himself from seeing her cry. He cared when he tried to offer his perspective. He cared when he tried to make her feel better about herself. He cared when he defended her in front of Yomi. And the miso soup, the analgesic infusion… she could go on but she just knew he did care for her in his subtle, non-grandiose ways.
In his silence, too.
Like an old friend. Like someone who knew her secrets.
Like a man she could trust again.
No. Every single man she trusted found a way to betray her in one form or another. Every single one of them.
Her father. Her younger brother. Yamamoto. Isamu. All of them.
She wouldn't let Kurama do it again. She would keep him at arm's length.
o-o
Kurama woke to the sound of laughter. He opened his eyes, not seeing anything except for the small glimmer of moonlight that touched the panel of his door. He sat up and heard the suppressed laughter again.
It was Aoshi's.
His hand fumbled for his keitai that he'd placed near his head. It was only minutes past three in the morning.
What was the professor up to at such an hour?
He pulled himself out of bed and opened the door to survey the dark halls. No one seemed to have gotten up after a tiring day spent in the beach. Her laughter echoed again from the kitchen, only four doors down from his room.
To be laughing at this hour was one thing, but laughing alone was unsettling.
Kurama therefore closed the door behind him and went to the sole source of light in the temple.
She'd left the kitchen door open and found her on the table, cigarette alight as she read a book that had seen many highs and lows, its impressed title already faded from the spine. A smile was playing on her lips and she laughed again after a moment.
Deciding that it was nothing out of the ordinary, Kurama turned to go back to sleep.
"Did I wake you?"
Her voice made him pause before he spun around to look at her. "No."
She frowned at him. "Sorry. I couldn't sleep."
He shook his head at her pouting face. "What are you reading?"
"Oh," she said, surprised that he was trying to start a conversation when he would find it hard to go back to bed after this. "Uh, nothing of consequence."
"You seem to be so amused."
"It's nothing. Go back to bed now."
Kurama raised an eyebrow at her. His interest had been piqued. "Tell me about it," he said, walking up to the table and sitting in front of her.
She rolled her eyes at him, clearly unhappy about his prodding. He couldn't help it; she woke him and deprived him of three more hours of precious sleep. Above knowing what it was that amused her to no end, he wanted to get even.
Perhaps it was the lack of sleep talking.
"Oh, all right," she said, exhaling a straight line of smoke away from him. "It's about foxes and Inari."
About his kind and Inari. He wondered how reading about them was funny. Perhaps it was also the lack of sleep?
"What about them?"
Her frown deepened as she put the book between her face and his. He could barely see the title but he could now read the characters anyway: "Japanese Deities."
The professor soon began reading:
There are a lot of tales chronicling how Inari and the foxes came to have a master-servant relationship. Not all foxes are sworn to Inari's servitude; some are rogue and constant tricksters and troublemakers.
Kurama felt there was something wrong… She paused at the most random and unlikely places, as though she hadn't read and become familiar with the passage in the first place.
Once, a skulk of rogue foxes decided to wreak havoc and destroy a rice field. In retaliation, Inari cursed them to feed on the rodents that had always parasitized said field that they damaged, keeping them reluctant guardians until the day came that the field flourished once more. This never happened, as Inari kept people and any seed from ever setting foot and root anywhere near the field, and thus the foxes were made for all eternity predators of the rodents.
She lowered the book and cocked her head to the side. "That's it."
Kurama wasn't going to bite into it. "And it is amusing how?"
Aoshi flicked a lazy wrist. "Oh, I don't know. Probably because you're a fox and I was imagining how you'd have looked running around and eating rodents."
He extended his hand to her, palm up. Catching on, she pushed the book to his direction and he scanned the text quickly. There was nothing about Inari or foxes. It was only about the land god Mikage.
"You made it up?" he said, unable to say anything coherent. He felt cheated and angry and at the same time awed at her quick and spontaneous, albeit obvious, thinking up of a story.
She blew smoke out of her nostrils, as though trying to let him know that she was already fuming inside. "Yeah."
"Why would you do that?"
"To get you off my back, I guess? But it seems I'm not getting the desired reaction from you. A shame, that is."
So that's it, then? He closed the book and pushed it back to her. He was the fox here, and he wouldn't pass up the chance to play games with someone as willing as her.
"You said you were trying to imagine me as a rodent predator."
She rolled her eyes at him again.
This was rather premature, but he went with the surprise anyway.
Overwhelming youki flowed through him, from his head to his neck, to his shoulders, down to his fingers. His toes curled at the sudden surge of power.
His only indication that he'd transformed was her horrified yelp and tumbling backwards off the bench and on the wooden floor of the kitchen.
He himself was taken aback by this reaction from the uptight, steely professor that he vaulted the table to help her up.
To his utter horror and amusement, she scrambled away from him, her eyes so wide he'd never be able to tell she was sleep-deprived.
Kurama laughed and crouched down to be level with her. "Hello, Professor," said he in a lower register that induced her to shiver.
She opened her mouth and closed it again. After a few seconds of sizing each other up, she grappled for the bench, picked herself up, and sat back on it.
"Don't do that again. I could've died."
He sat down next to her and placed his chin on the back of his white, long-fingered hand. "I thought I would humor you."
"Ha, very funny," she said, lighting up another cigarette now that the previous one had been crushed from her fall. "Go back to sleep."
"Are you not going to ask me questions?" he said, keeping his tone acid.
She threw him glare from the corner of her eyes. "What are you?" she said.
He smirked, baring her fangs at her. She visibly shuddered. "This is my demon form."
"Youko Kurama, then? The thief?"
He nodded his head, a sly smile on his lips.
"Why a single tail?"
"I'm not in my animal form."
"I thought you wanted to indulge me."
To let you in on a secret, yes.
He reached out to grab her chin and turn her face towards him, careful not to leave scratches from his sharp nails on her porcelain, sun-kissed skin.
"But it comes with a price," he said, purring as he leaned closer.
Her eyes widened once more and she tried tugging away his clawed hand to no avail.
"Parley," she whispered, harried.
He stopped a hairsbreadth from her lips. "Pardon?"
Her vice-like grip slackened and she removed her hand from his wrist. "Do you honestly want to do that?"
"Do what, exactly?"
"Kiss tobacco-breath?"
He smirked. "Yes."
Something incredibly hot touched his skin and a sizzling sound echoed through the silence of the early hour.
Aoshi took the chance and slapped him hard across the face before she jumped out of the bench and away from his reach.
"Go to hell, you cheating bastard!" she yelled, sticking out her tongue at him before she bounded out the kitchen, running like he had any real intention of chasing her down when half the household had been shaken awake.
Kurama looked at the singed skin of his hand as the other nursed the sore spot on his face. These would heal on their own but he would never forget.
He wasn't even livid; he was dejected. Now that he knew to what extent the professor was sensitized to a man's touch, he felt glum.
"You deserved it," said the voice of Hiei whom he knew was looking over through the window. Kurama heard him run.
As upset as he was, Kurama admitted that he might have really deserved it.
o-o
Chiaki didn't get up from her bed until the early afternoon when curling around her middle was no longer effective and she could no longer stand the pain that came with hunger. When she opened the door and scanned the halls to find them deserted, she galloped to the kitchen.
Thankfully, Shizuru had the mind to leave on the table something for her to eat. There was even a note that said, "Rough morning, I heard. Now, eat."
To say that her morning had been rough was understating the fact the Kurama in his fox demon form almost managed to harass her. To hell with that guy. Granted, he was as immaculate as ever with his flowing silver locks and eyes that were the color of honey, but it was no excuse to treat her like some prey.
She understood that it might have been only his way of getting back at her for waking him in the middle of the night and for making up a story that probably wounded his pride as a fox demon, but then again, he'd expected more from him.
Although she'd have to admit, slapping him that hard was too much when she'd already used his hand as a makeshift ash tray.
Chiaki didn't even notice the food she was eating with her train wreck of thought. What was she supposed to say to him? What would she do when she saw him?
Sometimes Chiaki felt she wasn't really twenty-seven. Now was one of those times.
If only she could come up with a plan that wouldn't make her look like a basic bitch when she had every right to be after the stunt he pulled.
Hold on, she could pretend it never happened and be nice to him. Would that make him feel any guiltier?
And here I thought I can't get any more immature than this.
The back door slid open and in came the flaming red mop of hair. She didn't understand why he didn't avoid this area when she was sure he'd picked up her scent a mile away.
Chiaki got up and placed the bowl and chopsticks on the sink before she exited the kitchen, ignoring his still form.
So much for being nice.
o-o
"You're not in speaking terms with her, then?" said Yusuke as he killed off another of Suzuki's shadow warriors, his laughter drowning out his opponent's growl.
Kurama moved his horse to D2, leaving his queen open for attack by Kuwabara's bishop. His friend scratched his chin, trying to spot the trap.
"No," Kurama replied. The professor had been avoiding him like the plague and if they ever were in the same room, she made sure not to look his way.
Kuwabara moved his queen in the way of Kurama's. "Honestly, bud, what were you thinking? I still don't get it."
"Same fo' me, eh?" said Jin who was watching their chess game. "D'you like 'er, Kurama?"
Did he? "I don't have an answer to that."
Yusuke tossed the joystick onto Suzuki's lap and crawled up to them, his jaw set and his eyebrows meeting. "That's bullshit, man. That's bullshit."
Kurama spared him a glance before moving to check Kuwabara's king with his queen, ultimately winning the game. Yusuke was gritting his teeth and knocked out the chess pieces.
"Do you like her or not?" said Yusuke with an urgency he'd only heard when he snapped in the face of incompetent troops.
Kurama'd grown tired of everyone else meddling with him. He was old enough to act on his own feelings without anyone asking why.
He'd chosen to enjoy camaraderie so long as he lived in this world. It had its benefits and detriments, and right now he wished he were alone.
"What if I do?"
Yusuke rolled his eyes and punched lightly on the table. "Don't talk to me like that, Kurama. I'm in no mood for your games." He pinched at the bridge of his nose. "Which, by the way, got you into this mess in the first place."
The room had gone eerily silent. Was this really the time to discuss this?
"It's not my place to tell you what to do but if you like her in any way, do it right. I know you know her better than any of us and you find it amusing to rile her up, but she's lost someone, man."
He knew that. And it made him feel extremely guilty.
"If there's any time that she needs someone to make her feel better, now's the time. Not to make her feel like shit or to make fun of her. You should know that."
He did.
"So if you actually like her, then do it right. If you want to be with her, pursue her. But if she's not what you want, quit playing games with her. I understand that you don't intend to stay. What I don't get is why you have to make it hard for the both of you. Got it?"
Kurama nodded his head.
"Now, answer me, do you like her?"
He buried his face in his hands. He did. "I do."
He'd always liked the professor, fascinated by her vivacity and her resilience. She was witty and intelligent, disagreeable and spontaneous. Kurama couldn't deny that she had occupied a significant fraction of his thoughts.
"Do you want to be with her?"
Kurama couldn't lie and it made him feel so helpless and pathetic. "Yusuke, I don't know."
"Quit shitting me, man. I'm not asking if you can be with her. I'm asking if you want to be with her. So, what's it, fox boy?"
Did he want to be with her?
"If you finally find someone who makes you really happy, don't let go."
Was being happy with someone enough to want to be with them?
All of his friends made him happy. Aoshi Chiaki made him happy with loud arguments and muted debates. She made him happy with serene silences and even those that were loaded. She made him happy with secrets she'd shared when she didn't have to.
"Kurama?"
"I think I do."
"Then quit being a baby and ask her out!"
Kurama sighed and looked at his friend. "I can't be with her."
It was the truth. They weren't allowed to date clients. And beyond that, he knew his friends understood why, and he was beginning to think this conversation was pointless and should have never happened to begin with.
Much to his surprise, Yusuke was smiling sheepishly when he patted Kurama on the shoulder. "It's not a matter of what you can and can't do, man. It's about doing whatever it takes to do what you want," he said, smiling. "I can't be with Keiko forever but I want to be with her. That's why we found a compromise. It's not the healthiest relationship in all three worlds but we're happy and that's what matters."
"Yeh're jus' afraid the take the plunge, Yusuke, yeh are," said Jin, laughing.
"Maybe I am. But that doesn't mean I won't. We've only got at least fifty years, so why waste my chance, right?"
Kuwabara abruptly rose to his feet, his hand clenched in a fist. "Urameshi, you're a genius. I'm going to ask Yukina to marry me."
Everyone's face fell.
"She's not even your girlfriend," said Touya.
The psychic didn't backtrack. "I'm going to ask her out again, then. Love will conquer all!"
And then he slid the door open and banged it close, bounded out of the room to leave all of his friends wondering how his umpteenth attempt would pan out this time.
"It's cheesy, Kurama," said Yusuke, rubbing at his nose as he turned red. "But love indeed conquers all. Though I have to admit, this time you'll have to wait. She's a client, after all."
"That, Urameshi, is the corniest thing that left your mouth," said Shishiwakamaru before he exited with Touya and Suzuki. Rinku ran after them, making gagging noises.
Chu was finally able to speak after hours of blank staring. "Talks like this go well wi' gin."
Kurama wasn't sure it was the brightest idea.
o-o
She didn't know why she let Jin drag her along with all of the girls to come go drinking one evening. She didn't know why she had to sit next to a red-faced redhead who clearly had more than enough alcohol in his system that he didn't even notice the red-haired unicorn shoving her down on the floor next to him.
"A'right, let's start!" said Urameshi cheerily with a goofy smile on his face, clapping his hands, alcohol-influenced like all the boys were. Chiaki was earlier informed they were mourning Kuwabara's latest rejection.
The ginger had actually already conked out in a corner, and Yukina was left to aid to her ailing suitor while Shizuru affected nonchalance like she always did.
Urameshi started dealing the cards. Chiaki got a two, two fives, and a king. Urameshi started the game and placed a card on the table. "Ace."
"Three two's," said Jin, laying down three cards.
Chiaki smirked. There was no way he got three of them. "That's bullshit, man."
Urameshi revealed the cards. Jin was bluffing. "Now, drink or dare?" he asked Chiaki.
"Drink for now," she said. Jin grinned at her and took the cards from the table before he downed a shot glass of vodka.
Suzuki put down a card. "Three."
"Four," said Rinku.
"Two five's."
"Bullshit, Touya," said Chiaki again.
Touya revealed his cards. There were indeed two fives. Dang.
"Drink," said the ice man.
Chiaki did.
"Six," said Kurama quietly.
"Seven," said Chiaki.
"Two eights," said Keiko.
And so it went on in the same manner, Chiaki growing less aware of the redhead next to her and more of the other's cards, trying to counter the lethargy that came with downing more vodka by the minute as she had so much fun challenging the others and letting out the curse word without censorship.
That is, before Shizuru called him out with a firm, echoing, "Bullshit."
He indeed was bluffing, and Shizuru chose dare, much to Chiaki's chagrin.
"I dare you to kiss the person you like the most in this room."
This exacted a boisterous fit of laughter from all the men as the females looked on, flabbergasted.
Something's not right…
"Anywhere is acceptable?" asked Kurama, the slur in his voice more prominent now. He swayed forward, and Chiaki had half the mind to grab him by his shirtsleeve lest he toppled over the table.
But he pulled himself right and Chiaki looked away.
"Yeah, whatever, kid."
Kurama hiccupped as everyone else sat watching for his next move. Chiaki didn't know why, but he prayed he would get up and wobble his way to someone from the opposite side of the table… like Botan or Shizuru. Or even Jin or Touya. Kurama seemed to swing that way anyway. Attracting everyone with his effeminate looks—man or woman, now that she thought about it.
Even me?
A rough, warm, and almost clammy palm descended on her cheek, and Chiaki slightly jumped.
Kurama turned his face to hers as he turned hers his way.
He likes me?
She didn't have time to react, not even to process the events unfolding in front of her.
His lips were hovering in front of her, ready for the catch, and she was convinced she would do themselves a favor by pushing him away…
But his warm lips landed on her forehead, just below her hairline. It stayed there for a few moments, only touching but resolute. Like he was fearful for her reaction but nonetheless wished she would feel this kiss that was potentially the last he could give her.
The world seemed to stop, time seemed to have slowed, the silence between them no longer peaceful or calm but pregnant and charged.
Boy, did she feel them. His lips and the hand cradling her cheek. She felt them when they withdrew, with a soft sound that was too mild to shatter their silence.
And she felt the world spinning once more, heard the drunken cheers of the boys, saw the stunned faces of her girl friends and Shizuru's knowing look.
And she saw him cover the lower half of his face—his nose and his mouth—with the hand he'd touched her with. She saw him turn away and bow his head, his ears red for some unfathomable reason.
"Chiaki, your turn," said Shizuru, a call that pierced through the momentary and silent void she and this girly man shared, wrenching her away and back to the real world, in this room in a temple far from Tokyo.
She turned to her cards and put down one. "King."
She briefly wondered if he'd only meant to kiss her on the forehead the other night. The possibility still made her cheeks flush redder.
He likes me.
Youko freaking Kurama, the freaking fox demon thief from a world I've never set foot on likes me. The Kurama with two equally immaculate forms kissed me in front of everybody.
Whose body was now tilted away from hers and towards Chu's.
Who was now slurring in his speech so much that she tried to convince herself it was a drunken mistake.
Or perhaps it was because she was nearest to him and would be unable to go up to someone else.
She didn't even realize she was called out. Suzuki told her to kiss the redhead back, a self-satisfied smirk on his face.
Kurama slightly jumped, his drooping eyes finally landing on hers after their adamant avoidance.
But at that moment, there was only a single thought that registered in her vodka-fogged brain: Isamu.
She turned to Suzuki. "I can't," she said, shaking her head. "I can't do this. Excuse me."
She struggled to get up and stand on her feet, the alcohol almost taking over. But she overcame the hurdle and went straight for the door, leaving everyone behind in her probable confusion.
Nobody went after her, and she made it to her bedroom without incidence. She shut the door and stayed sitting on the floor for who knows long.
Isamu's face returned from memory—smiling and flushed after their first kiss. It melted away, replaced by Kurama's pristine face, flushed as well—from alcohol, she tried convincing herself.
He couldn't have meant that. He couldn't. He was merely intoxicated and she was next to him.
But he's been flirting with you. He's tried to kiss you.
He was playing games with me. He wasn't serious.
He likes you! Get a grip of yourself. He likes you and he kissed you and you liked it.
I didn't like it. He's not Isamu.
Isamu is dead. He's given you the right to like somebody else when he died. He's given someone else the right to love you when he passed on.
Hot beads of tears rolled down her cheeks. God, she didn't want this. She didn't want to feel like this.
He knew she didn't trust men. He knew she hated men. He knew she loved Isamu and he knew she still did.
Do I?
He was only joking. He was only bluffing. He was playing like he always did.
She shouldn't be this affected. It was a playful peck. Nothing else.
She wanted to believe in it. She wanted to latch onto something that would tell her the rapid beating of her heart wasn't anything akin to a desire to reciprocate his feelings. She wanted to find a reason why every time she closed her eyes she saw him instead of Isamu. She wanted to cling onto the memory of Isamu.
Perhaps it was because she didn't want to believe someone else other than Isamu would love her. Perhaps it was because she refused to believe that she was still capable of loving someone other than the last man she'd let into her heart. Perhaps it was because she was afraid of being hurt again.
Perhaps… she'd become a coward herself.
o-o
He didn't know what time it was that he woke but when he did she was already up and about, busy with her usual errand for the past four weeks—preparing breakfast. She didn't greet him, much like how she had been around him the past days, but left him to help himself before exiting through the back door.
Kurama heaved a sigh.
"It's not a matter of what you can and can't do, man. It's about doing whatever it takes to do what you want."
Even in the fuzz that was his brain still recovering from the effects of alcohol, he had known from the moment he opened his eyes that morning that Yusuke was correct. It took him alcohol to make his intentions clear, and he would have to tell her.
With newfound resolve, he abandoned his still empty bowl and ran after the professor, following the scent of her lily-of-the-valley shampoo.
The scent of the flower and cigarettes and lotion that registered when he inspected evidence. The scent that always led him to her.
He found her sitting in the same spot she'd sat in so many times. Their quiet spot.
"You want to talk to me," she said, staring at the garden. No cigarette was in sight, and Kurama took it as a sign she wanted to take this seriously. It was always that way with her—no cigarette equalled no playing around. It added to his anxiety.
"I do," he said, walking closer to her and reclaiming his usual spot two feet from her. The silence that followed was no longer the peaceful silence he enjoyed with her—it was charged and pointed, as though explosive enough to shatter the whole galaxy.
Aoshi rubbed her collarbones. "Did you mean it?"
The morning summer air was suddenly too hot for him. "I did, Professor."
Her cheeks flushed red as he felt his did, too. She bit her lip and shuffled her slipper-clad feet on the stepping stone like she did the first time he found her alone in this place.
"Kurama, I—you know I love him still, right? And I understand that you like to play games with me and blow my mind but… I can't do this." She excessively worried her lip that he was sure she could draw blood if she pressed any harder. "I'm not even sure of what I feel for Isamu anymore and it doesn't sit well with me."
He knew Urawa would get in the way. He recognized her history with him and yet it wasn't enough for him to set aside what he was feeling when at long last it was as sure as a summer's day.
"Professor," he said, willing her to look at him. She did, and her eyes were bleary, clearly on the edge of crying. These days she had been more open to crying in front of him, and Kurama had always thought it was a sign that she trusted the Kurama who became her friend if not Kurama the man. "Before you reject me, may I ask a question?"
She looked down, swallowed, and turned to him again. "You may."
Kurama braced himself. He needed something to hold onto, something that would appease his warring heart and mind.
"If there were no Urawa, if you never had to hurt because of him, would you have considered being with me?"
His throat had gone dry.
Aoshi's eyebrow furrowed and her eyes became unfocused.
A minute passed that she didn't meet his gaze and continued worrying her lip.
It didn't surprise him that it finally cracked and a trickle of blood almost touched the skin of her chin if it weren't for her quick reaction.
"Professor?" Kurama tried again.
She looked at him, her frown deeper than ever. Then her lips parted, and a smile crept up her features—stiff and restrained as though because of her cracked lip, but a smile nonetheless.
"You're not that bad."
The lead in his stomach disappeared in that instant, and his chest felt the lightest it had felt since he'd realized how ingrained in his soul this acerbic and neurotic professor was.
He smiled back at her—her image even more endearing with the cracked lip that didn't distract from the genuine smile she threw his way.
For now, this answer would do. The technicality of the internal agreement between him and the rest of the detecting team was clear. He would have his chance and now all he could do was hope.
Hope was such a positive idea.
Their silence returned.
A/N:
* butsudan – a Buddhist altar for paying respect to the dead usually bearing the deceased's picture and holders for incense sticks
It is happening! I don't really have anything to say about this chapter except that it's been sitting in my laptop since the hols and was only bidding its time to make its appearance. (Yes, I'm almost finished with the last chapters to this story, in case you're wondering.)
Thank you to everyone who left a review last chapter and those who added this to their faves and alerts!
I have one teeny, tiny request to all of you, dear readers, especially those who have this on their lists: Since you have most probably been following this story religiously, would you please leave a review for me (even if it's only for the final chapter, really)? At least tell me why you've hung around for this long? Surely there must be a reason. :) That is all, thanks!
See you next chappie!