Kamusta! :)


Here's part 15 of my sis' fanfic!
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Fifteen.

	Kurama lifted his eyes, and the darkness flared to life.
	The cold had not dispersed.  They were still in the same shadows.  There
was still no wind, though it felt as if the whole place stirred softly, as
if the walls he could not see moved.
	Kurama glanced down at the subtle weight still on his lap.  The familiar
youthful face was fair in slumber.  He knew he might never see Hiei so
peaceful again, and cherished the moment, as he cherished anything else rare.
	"Hiei," he called.  "We made it."
	But there was no answer.  There was not so much as a sleepy grunt, or a sigh.
	This frightened Kurama.  "Hiei...?"  His fingertips settled on Hiei’s
temples.  "You’re cold," he remarked absently, and almost inaudibly.
	He eased Hiei’s head to the unseen floor.  Limply it followed his gentle
motions.  But it did not move of its own accord.  Hiei’s face turned to the
right, and stayed there.
	Kurama reached for Hiei’s right wrist.  It was like ice to the touch.  And
the pulse supposedly beneath it was still as stone.
	Dismay shot through Kurama like thunder.
	"No," he whispered to himself.  "No, please, he’s far too young for this – "

	At another side of the world Hiei’s three eyes flicked open.  The first
sight the two dark-seeing youkai eyes encountered was that of two human
eyes, closed in what seemed to be meditation.  The fate-seeing jagan, in its
turn, saw nothing; there was nothing there but two closed human eyes, and a
shock of still red hair.
	Hiei sat up and immediately looked back over his shoulder.  Kurama’s hands,
which were joined at Hiei’s chest, were broken apart by the force of his
sudden movement – and it stunned Hiei for a moment to know that if he had
sat up in any other way, they would have remained joined forever.  Limp arms
spilled to the ground on either side of Kurama, who knelt bent over a dear
object that had already slipped out of his grasp.  He did not move.
	Hiei took hold of his friend’s shoulders.  With one abrupt movement he
straightened them.  Kurama’s head tilted up limply as if he was about to
look up, but then, as Hiei did not continue to force him to, his head lolled
to one side.
        "Kurama," Hiei said sternly.  "Wake up."
        When after a while Kurama still did not move, all other motion
ceased in the large, empty room.  Hiei’s eyes, wide with the shock of
realization, took on an alien glaze.  He could not let go of Kurama’s shoulders.
        For the first time in his life, Hiei noticed, creature of the dark
though he was, he could get lost in any place
        -- without the light.

	"Hiei," Kurama whispered in a last desperate attempt to rouse the little
form gathered in his arms.  When that did not yield anything, he had to cry.
	Damn it, he said angrily inside himself.  It shouldn’t have been you.  He
hugged the little body closer to himself.  I’m four centuries old, as if I’m
counting.  I’ve been young – and foolish – for all but fifteen of those many
years.  You, yourself, have known only – what?  Ten?  And you haven’t even
had the chance to know how rare you are.
	Damn it. Damn you.
	He and Hiei both knew the dangers of the Kokuryuha.  Everytime Hiei used
it, Hiei not only faced the danger of losing vital youki: he also staked his
life.  The Black Dragon Wave could never take too much from its summoner.
	Hiei could fade in one split-second.
	And Kurama hadn’t felt it, when he left…
	Just in time, Kurama remembered that in his extremely long existence, he
had known three gods who don’t happen to be just one person.  The first was
the one he had known all his life, his Creator, Inari.  He never had respect
for that one, from the start.  The second was the one Shiori introduced to
him as a child – and this one never went beyond being a vague (though
potent) concept.  The last was the one who could possibly make the most
difference: Enma Daioh, Lord of the Dead.  Kurama needed only hope that He
passed nothing of His own inconsistencies onto His firstborn son…
	Strange, though, he thought: strange, that their names should occur to him
at the same bleak moment.
	Listen to me, he silently demanded, of all of them.  Shuiichi, Shiori’s
son, the "Excellent One", took over in time, and he spoke more politely to
the Unseen.  Listen to me – please.
	I’d touched a mirror once, stolen from you – or, at least, one of you – and
prayed to you, through it, to take whatever you must to save the life of
someone I love.  I know that you’d seen me, that you’d heard, and I thank
you all for her.  I have always thanked you for her, even though you don’t
hear me.  Even after I die, may she be safe in the world in which she always
belonged.
	Now I will ask you again to take anything.  Anything.  Just save the life
of this one, the only other one I have with me in my mind.
	He looked back down at Hiei, but saw only the absence of tranquillity in
the stillness of his youthful features, and felt only regret at all the
things he was far too young to experience, or miss.
	No, I do not love him.  Not as anyone might think.
	I care because he needs me to.  That is all.
	His fingers ran absently through the black gossamer of Hiei’s hair, as a
caring youth would, watching over the solemn repose of a troubled younger
brother.  The tears stopped coming then.  Kurama’s emerald eyes took on a
grim, steady gleam.
	Listen, gods, he would have shouted.
	Listen.
	I give my soul for his.  I give my life for his, because – because I owe it.
	"Owe".  It was the most accurate word to describe the friendship that they
shared.  When Hiei died, something of Kurama died with him.
	He showed me I was not alone.  It would not matter in another world, the
one in which the two of us were first born, but…the Ningen Kai is stranger.
By far.  And it is different for us.
	When after a while has passed and there was still no answer, Kurama decided
to experiment.  Was his prayer heard?  His palms hung in the air, only a
breath from where Hiei’s youkai heart lay motionless.
	Then, just as he hoped, red light began to flow from them, and seep into
his young friend’s breast.  The flow of light grew and grew, until Hiei’s
heart overflowed from it, until it enveloped his slight frame in a
shimmering shroud.
	Weakening at a rate too swift, Kurama nevertheless managed a wan smile.  It
was working; his prayer was taking effect.  Never in his lifetime had he
done such a thing.  Youkai, as a rule, do not simply transfer into other
shells the power in their very destructible spirit-selves.
	But I owe you for more than I could say…
	His head tilted back.  Emerald sleepily focused on a spirit-world they
could not see.  Kurama felt himself slipping, softly, like a dream.
	Let this clear me forever, Hiei, my friend.

        You don’t matter that much, Hiei thought to the cold, lovely
creature.  Not as much as you’d think you would.  Not as much as I would
expect.  You truly are magnificent.  But…Even in his thoughts, he flared.
In his mind he hit Kurama full in the face, knowing that he would never be
able to do so outside his imagination.
        Damn you, fox, he almost cried.  I can’t shed tears for you – not
even you can make me lose myself so much – but you matter.  Even though I’ve
sworn never to owe anyone anything, I owe you.
        There was something he could do.  From the very start the
possibility turned and tossed in Hiei’s mind.  But the sacrifice it would
involve propelled him into depths he had barely explored.  He was not
certain Kurama was worth it.
        …Yes, I owe you.  I owe you my life – and maybe more.  Yukina…for
helping save her life once I will owe you for her until the day she dies,
which may as well never come while I am alive. 
        Very young strands of scarlet tangled between his fingers.  He
released Kurama’s shoulder, and the strands unraveled as his touch fell away.
        My life for yours, youko? Hiei asked himself.  I wouldn’t readily
give so much to just anyone…
        Hiei’s hands trembled, and his grip on both of Kurama’s shoulders
loosened.  Kurama gently pitched forward against his chest.  Hiei’s arms
instinctively encircled him.
        Shit, Hiei said with the frozen embrace.  You aren’t "just anyone".
        But he did not even need to think.  The contact was all the trigger
he needed.
        Black light coursed from Hiei’s whole body.  Slowly they wrapped
around Kurama as well.  At first it seemed to camouflage the two in the
midnight jungle of the dark room.
        Hiei’s arms wound tighter round Kurama on impulse, as he felt
himself ebbing.

        Blood and shadow mingled, somewhere in the dark room, where the only
two people could not see.  Colors of war and death swirled in a mad dance at
the borders of the reason of two worlds.  The tenderness of a whispered
prayer lingered in the background, until it was joined by another, stranger
sound, after a time, and it became one vital sheet of the sweetest music.
The other half of the ode was that of hail on the earth, the harsh tinkle of
unfallen black pearls.
        Grief and grief joined to make the magic whole.
        A moment later Kurama woke.  And Hiei woke.  Kurama was kneeling,
and Hiei’s head was on his lap, and warm flesh fingers were joined atop the
fire-spirit’s narrow chest.  It was as if nothing had happened.  And
furthermore, it was as if they were both miraculously, completely healed.

        Kurama and Hiei presently sat apart.  They did nothing but stare at
each other for a long, long while.  At the very end of the waiting, a
demure, almost embarrassed smile touched Kurama’s lips.  He rubbed the back
of his neck.  "I just had," he said wonderingly, "the strangest dream."
        "Did you?" Another smile was born on the lips of a killer, and it
was – the most charming thing one could imagine.  Kurama had to admit to
that, himself!  It was awkward, at first, like an infant learning to walk,
but then it took one step further, and then two…and soon Hiei was laughing
softly, in the clutches of contagious relief.
Kurama shook his head affectionately and chuckled along.  Red hair tilted
back as what seemed to be the precious laughter of a very wise child echoed
through fog and wood.          Meter by meter, the darkness disappeared,
driven off by the foreign sound’s forcefulness.
        Outward, from the circle formed between the two living bodies, light
spread out across the ancient wood.  Something came to be when the light
touched it.  Soon they were no longer inside the dark room, or any other
place that reeked of danger; they were back in the wood near Minamino
Shuiichi’s home.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
BFN!
:***LYN***:
 /-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-\
|Ma. Aileen Arcega|Surfing from Bulacan, Philippines!|lyn@tridel.com.ph |
|-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-|
|      	    Akin si Kurama/Minamino Shuichi of Yu Yu Hakusho!           |
 \-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-/