Adult-FanFiction.org : YuYu Hakusho

Into the Gray	By : Dementian Category: Yuyu Hakusho > Yaoi - Male/Male > Kurama/Kuwabara Views: 2206 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Yu Yu Hakusho and make zero money off of it.

Chapter List
- 13
- 14
Two and a half months passed, and a routine was established.
Kazuma worked mostly from his laptop and his hours were not set in stone like Kurama’s. He could work from Yusuke’s bar at two in the morning as easily as he could work from an actual building site during a decent hour. He consulted, he constructed, and he traveled throughout Japan visiting shrines on the verge of collapse to renovate and renew them. Kurama stayed in their home, keeping business hours from eight to five as he likewise consulted and healed the sick. His practice among demons became such as staple income that he was able to cater to them exclusively, healing them after battles or during times of plague outbreak. Many demons that lived in human world were integrating into human society through marriage or birth. So it was that many of Kurama’s human patients understood the demon nature of his practice and even sought him out for it. At nights, Kurama was on call for emergencies but rarely had to attend to them; demons were prideful and did not like seeking out aid fresh from battle. Instead they waited and sulked (much like a familiar three eyed friend he knew), and came to him during regular hours with oozing wounds.
   Shiori stopped going to the hospital, and seemed to be recovering at home. When Kurama asked, she told him that she was feeling fine (“better than ever!”) and was recuperating from therapy with the aid of his stepfather. Kurama did not push for detail, for Shiori was too tired to give it, but he noticed that she seemed calmer - peace, almost... as if some terrible weight had been taken off her chest. Kurama was satisfied, wondering if the herbs Hiei had so painstakingly brought him had actually helped her in the end. Perhaps their effect had been delayed because of her chemotherapy. He was unsure.
   Kurama did not hear from Matsuri again. After losing ten of his men (two to death and eight to prison), it seemed that he took Kurama’s threat seriously and did not return to bother him at the shop. Even so, Kurama did not put away his mirror plant, and upon waking in the middle of the night would listen intently from Kazuma’s embrace, never stirring but ever cautious. Shizuru, working for the fifth precinct that oversaw their whole street, was likewise often on patrol outside of Kurama’s shop and Yusuke’s restaurant. So it was that during the middle of the night, Kurama would see a flash of neon blue light drifting through his window and felt slightly safer knowing that he had an extra set of eyes open. He did not ask about her relationship with Yukina, for unlike Kazuma it was none of his business and he did not feel privy to her personal life just because he was dating her brother. He did however note that Yukina had taken up secretary work at the fifth precinct, and seemed quite exuberant about the fact that she, like her brother and lover, could handle criminals. Kurama wondered if Yukina had moved in with Shizuru, but Hiei (who stopped by twice after that ridiculous first incident) never eluded to the notion that she had and Kurama did not ask.
   Jiro was not an overbearing parent that liked to call his children; instead they only saw him once a month when they went to dinner on the first sunday. Jiro was soothed, happy to see both his children in flourishing relationships, and provided them with ample support during moments of confusion or irritation (particularly when Yukina was glum about Hiei, or Shizuru was railing on Kazuma). Kurama did not forget that Jiro had kept up the facade of Shuichi to Shiori’s face, and had never once insinuated to another that Kurama lead a double life. For that, he respected Jiro greatly, and the pair of them learned to understand one another at a distance as Kurama kept his space and Jiro kept his honesty. It was still taking time for Kurama to understand how open and frank the Kuwabaras were with one another. Perhaps he ought to learn from their example, but he never felt the need to tell Shiori the truth. Indeed, the thought made him slightly nauseous with self-hatred.
   It was January tenth, and Kazuma was working on a temple in Sapporo. Kurama had received a call from him earlier that day promising to be home around seven; Kazuma seemed eager to enjoy dinner at Yusuke’s, and so Kurama closed up shop to walk across the street. He relaxed in a booth near the bar, keeping company with Yukina who had taken the day off from work to focus on some more personal craft projects that she claimed were for upcoming birthdays. Kurama had a feeling that a certain someone was going to be receiving more soap (which tickled him endlessly), but Yukina had eluded to the concept of pottery. Now Kurama could hear Hiei wailing “she made me a cup! I love cups!” in his head, which caused him to snicker once or twice without supposed reason. Yukina said nothing, to her credit. Perhaps she knew why Kurama was laughing... after all, Hiei had returned to her twice in order to request more of the same soap she’d made him the first time.
   Apparently Mukuro kept stealing his.
   “Hey, baby. I’m sorry I’m late.”
   Kazuma was about twenty minutes late, no doubt from traffic or train delay, and as Kurama looked up over a cup of coffee he smiled at Kazuma; even now, a year later, a strange joy emitted from him whenever Kazuma appeared. Taking off his coat and folding it over his arm, Kazuma slid into the booth next to Kurama and kissed him tenderly upon the lips. Outside it was snowing, and due to the glass ceilings it created a bizarre ‘reverse-snow globe’ effect that Kurama quite enjoyed.
   “How was your day?” Kurama asked, and Kazuma took out a packet from his coat pocket to reveal a set of pictures taken from the work site in Sapporo. Yukina was eager to look at them all, amazed at the beautiful architecture Kazuma had created. The ‘before’ shots were downright depressing but now the work had truly begun, and the result was the clearing of a large swath of land that was both serene and detached from society. A wilderness within a wilderness.
   “Fun. This temple is going to be huge.”
   “Oh, that’s lovely,” Yukina complimented.
   “Three main buildings, six side temples, and of course the front worship bell.” Kazuma ticked them all off on his fingers, waggling ten for Kurama to smile at. “It’s a huge piece of land, but they’re really not touched it during the past century. They’ve allowed it to grow as it wants to; because of that, I can work around it and make buildings that are complementary with nature.”
   “My favorite kind,” Kurama said appreciatively.
   “They have a temple there for Inari.” Kazuma seemed to find this very funny, but Kurama just rolled his eyes.
   “Oh, yes,” Kurama recalled with amusement, “the goddess of yokos.”
   “Did you ever worship her?” Yukina asked.
   “I worshiped myself back then,” Kurama said, though in truth he had paid a shrine or two an offering during his younger days. It had been easy as a kit to imagine that a goddess might protect him for a pretty coin or two; during his adult years he’d been less inclined to believe. Now, he didn’t care a whit.
   “Like any self-respecting yoko would,” Yukina joked. Kurama could not help but laugh, for her comment was actually quite on par. Still, he wondered what Kazuma would say if he knew what Yukina and Kurama had been discussing before his arrival.
   “Why don’t you tell Kazuma the lovely conversation that you had with your brother earlier today,” Kurama offered slyly. Yukina made a noise under her breath, and Kazuma raised his eyebrows.
   “Was Hiei here again without me knowing?” Kazuma asked, quite annoyed. The past two times that Hiei had visited Kurama, Kazuma had not been around (Hiei had never stayed long and certainly wouldn’t venture upstairs into their home). Kazuma was starting to feel ignored by Hiei (which was exactly what he was).
   “No,” Yukina assured him, “it was just over the phone. I’ve been trying for ages to get him to use a cell phone and I finally convinced him the last time he was here.”
   “Excellent.” Kazuma seemed quite impressed and pulled his phone out of his coat pocket. “What’s his number?”
   Yukina opened her own cell phone and slid it across the table so that Kazuma could copy the digits.
   “Kazuma, don’t ever call that number,” Kurama begged under his breath, imagining the violent and nasty conversations the pair of them might have if Kazuma started nagging him for information. Hiei was far too brusque to enjoy small talk... save for small talk with Yukina.
   “Just good for emergencies,” Kazuma said, and Kurama could see the logic in this.
   “I told him about me and Shizuru,” Yukina added, and Kazuma snorted as he put his phone away back in his coat pocket.
   “How’d that go?” Kazuma asked.

   “He doesn’t care.” Yukina shrugged. “Or so he says.”
   “Meaning he cares a great deal,” Kurama deciphered.
   “And he quickly changed the subject.”
   “Meaning he thought about it endlessly,” Kurama finished. Yukina smiled.
   “Should we warn my sister?” Kazuma asked, perhaps wondering if Hiei might be paying her a ‘friendly’ visit in light of this newfound information.

   “Hiei is just an overly protective brother,” Kurama chided with a gentle smile. “He’ll get over it.”
   “Shit,” Kazuma said under his breath, more of a grumble than an actual word.

   After dinner the pair of them returned home, and though it was a short walk across the street Kurama’s hands were already frozen in his pockets as when he walked through the shop door. The night was black, though snow and fluorescent lights overhead dotted it with light. Locking the front door behind them, Kurama lead the way upstairs, eager to get back in the warmth. Eikichi was asleep on the couch (her favorite spot), and Kurama sighed as the warm air began to sooth his numbed skin.
   They got ready for bed, Kazuma setting aside his briefcase and putting his phone on the charger as Kurama used a salve on his weary and dry hands. In pajamas and reclining upon his vanity seat, Kurama watched as Kazuma undid his tie and took off his cufflinks. Kurama wondered if it might be an ideal birthday present but he was keener to purchase something... personal.
   Yet all thoughts of birthday presents and naughty gifts were suddenly put on hold when the ringing of their home phone caught their attention. Kazuma looked up, confused, given that it was ten at night. Who on earth would call them from their home phone at such an hour... and why? If they were truly intent on calling either of them, they would use their cellphones. Then again, Kurama’s phone was dead and needed to be charged. Kazuma’s had yet to ring.
   The phone continued to ring, vibrating from the wall hook in the kitchen.
   “... So late,” Kurama said aloud. Kazuma’s face was full of concern as he rose from the bed, walking into the kitchen and picking the phone up from the hook.
   Kurama followed him.
   Kazuma could not catch the phone before it fell silent, but just as Kazuma looked back around at Kurama to shrug, the phone started ringing again. Now it was clear someone was trying to get a hold of them as Kazuma resumed his brisk pace into the kitchen and picked up the phone. Kurama watched from the darkened entryway to the living room, wondering what on earth was going on.
   “Hello?”
   Kazuma registered a voice on the other end, and seemed surprised at whoever it was.
   “Yeah- ...what?” Kazuma’s face fell. For a moment there was silence.
   Kazuma wetted his lips. He breathed very slowly, his eyes downcast as he looked back and forth across the floor.
   “... Don’t worry.” Kazuma shook his head, his voice calm but... odd. “Don’t worry, I’ll- I’ll tell him.”
   And with that, he hung up the phone.
   “What was that about?” Kurama asked. Kazuma did not answer, heading back into the bedroom at a slow pace. He seemed to be thinking about something as he ran his hand over his mouth. Kurama followed him, still unsure as to what had happened on the phone, but as he took a seat back on the bed and unclasped his watch from his wrist, he observed Kazuma moving about the room. It was as if he didn’t know what to do or where to go.
   “There’s something you’re not telling me,” Kurama said, for he knew it to be fact. Kazuma had never behaved in such a way in front of him, not since before they were dating and Yusuke was battling disaster...but surely it couldn’t be a demon. Could it? Kurama suddenly thought of every foe they’d taken on. All were dead save for Yusuke’s earliest cases but they ought to be locked away in Spirit World unless something-
   Kazuma had come over to the bed. He sat down next to Kurama and braced him on either side with his hands. It was as if he was trying to shield Kurama, to save him from something.
   Kazuma took a breath.
   “Thirty minutes ago your mother was sitting in her favorite chair reading-“ Kazuma paused only for one second, just long enough for Kurama to register the pain in his voice and what it meant. “She died of an aneurism.”
   Kurama shot up, but did not know why. He breathed but did not know how. Kazuma’s arms were about him, holding him, keeping him secure even as he shuddered and swayed, no words able to slip past his lips.
   The darkness enclosed him, encasing him, suffocating him. He could no longer breathe.
   Time ceased to be. Location a mere falling of letters into shapes of words. There was no sound, no world, no life outside of the room in which he sat, outside of Kazuma’s arms... but even those did not soothe him, did not compare.
   He had failed.

   He had devoted himself to goodness. He had believed in her, fought for her, and cared for her until he felt certain that she could not die. And yet, she had. Died because he was not enough, and he had been a fool to ever think that giving all of himself to loving her would be adequate when the last twenty five years was a mere blip in an otherwise miserable, cruel life. Of course he couldn’t protect her well enough. Someone like him could not be changed in a quarter of a century – or perhaps ever. He couldn’t have saved her; he never stood a chance.
   And suddenly, Kurama could remember the moment in which he’d first died, and how he’d been given the option to let his soul transcend into all that lay beyond. He had been foolish and had chosen to hide, to stay. It had only caused her pain.
He had betrayed her from the start, and she had suffered for him – a soulless monster.
She had deserved every ounce of light in the universe, but what she had gotten was him.
And now she was dead.
   He was shaking, his body practically vibrating as if his soul was attempting to force its way out. Kazuma was behind him, holding him gently by the side of his head, his fingers threaded into Kurama’s hair.
   “Be calm, Kurama,” Kazuma begged softly against his skull. His voice sounded faraway, muffled as if Kurama were hearing it through a thick layer of glass. “She didn’t suffer.”
   But the agony within Kurama was the equivalent of the suffering of twenty lifetimes, and he could not bear it without reproach. He breathed haggardly, his soul tearing in two as he was forced to let go of the concept that he was good. That he was human. That he was whole.
   “She didn’t suffer,” Kazuma repeated, again and again, as though he were pleading it to some nonexistent god. “What else can we ask for?”
   But the gray had already become black. Without Shiori, he ceased.
   To be continued
- 13
- 14
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Into the Gray