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
- 8
- 9
- 10
   He did not know where he was going; he could not see for the wild anger spilling from his system. He stormed down the streets at random, kicking over several trashcans and bursting into wild sprints as he tried to make sense of his chaotic mind.
   Hiei was Yukina’s brother, and it just made so much goddamn sense now.
   Everyone getting antsy when Yukina mentioned her quest, Hiei’s bizarre behavior whenever Yukina appeared, Yukina seeming content and at peace despite not having physically found her brother and the strange look of mirth and terror on Hiei’s face whenever Yukina touched him. Oh, it all just made perfect fucking sense!
   And they’d known. They’d all known! Urameshi, Botan, Keiko, Shizuru, Kurama... All of them laughing at him behind his back and watching as he blundered along, forswearing his devotion to Yukina’s quest when Hiei was standing right the fuck next to him. Had they compared him to an ape when he wasn’t around? Had they made bets about what stupid things he’d do next? Had they kept even more secrets from him and he still didn’t know? When would the lies stop? When would the barriers fall? When would they come together as families ought to and be open, be honest.
   Kurama. Why had Kurama not told him?
   The look on Kurama’s face, his pain and suffering so evident as Kazuma said such horrible things to him. How would Kurama ever be able to look at him again? How would they ever recover?

   “Fuck!” Kazuma screamed, and with a burst of rage he turned to punch the first thing he saw: a tree. With three hard punches splinters sprayed into the air and the tree fell with an earth shaking crash; but it wasn’t enough, it still wasn’t enough! Kazuma went for a metal poll next, and punched it so hard he felt his knuckles begin to crack under the pressure. His physical strength accelerated by anger and spirit energy soon toppled a second victim, and the poll sang a deep low groan as it fell on its side to crash into the street. Sweat was now pouring from Kazuma’s chest, soaking his white shirt so that it was almost see through. His hands were burning, his knuckles throbbing, but it wasn’t enough damnit!
   “Hey!” a voice shouted. Kazuma looked over his shoulder, unsurprised to see Yusuke Urameshi of all people standing there at the end of the street. A wind swept through the clearing, heavy with the promise of oncoming rain. Yusuke was in jeans and a baggy t-shirt, looking rumpled as if he’d just rolled out of bed though it was barely ten at night. He stared at Kazuma, fists loosely clenched, eyes relaxed and at peace.
   “We wanted to tell you,” was all he said; it was more than enough to make Kazuma snap.
   He charged forward; Yusuke met him halfway.
   The feel of fists upon his flesh, powerful and perfect, was his lullaby. The song of his childhood calling him back to a time before demons and spirits had been prominent figures, before beautiful men with red hair had destroyed him, or crimson eyed ghosts started haunted his dreams. Here, with Urameshi, on a side street with a thunderstorm looming over head, Kazuma could belong. He could punish this man before him, break him with his punches and his kicks. He could destroy the pain inside him and pursue the truth with all the brutal honesty that his mother had bestowed upon him before she left.
   “Destroy the lies,” he could hear her whispering from nights when she thought he was already asleep.
   So he would.
   “We wanted to tell you- for years!” Urameshi roared through the hailing punches, giving as much as he received. Kazuma could feel his chest beginning to seize and ache with the barrage. It was a beautiful pain, cleansing him. “But we had no choice! Hiei threatened us all- with silence! And you would- have fuckin’ known- ages ago- but you ran out- on that goddamn movie- that Koenma sent us- to catch the fuckin’ bus!”
   Urameshi pinned him against a corporate sized dumpster, and the powerful impact dented the metal hull with an echoing din. Kazuma looked over his shoulder to where Urameshi held his right arm behind his back, ready to rip his fucking face off. So he caught the bus and now he was the butt of everyone’s joke, eh? Was that all it fucking took?
   “You could have told me!” Kazuma snarled, “Any second after that you could have told me!"
   “We thought- if you knew- you’d tell Yukina!” Yusuke snarled right back, struggling to control Kazuma’s bulging biceps, “Hiei didn’t want Yukina to know! He still doesn’t want her to know! He refuses to tell her!”

   “Why?!”
   “Because he hates himself!” Yusuke seemed quite honest in his admission, and it threw Kazuma off for a second.
   “I deserve to suffer alone!” Kurama had screamed.

Did Kurama hate himself?
   Yusuke took the opportunity Kazuma offered him, punching him hard in the face so that he suddenly was knocked away from the dumpster and back onto the ground. Kazuma rolled quick, dodging a powerful punch thrown by Yusuke that broke the concrete. Regaining his footing, he tried for a new assault, but Yusuke saw it coming and grabbed him by the arm, using the momentum of Kazuma’s sprint to launch him into the air. Kazuma twisted mid fall, trying to right himself, but Yusuke went with him. The pair of them crashed into the wooden boards blocking in someone’s backyard; they bounced off, falling back to the pavement.
   “Now what did you do to Kurama to make him tell you about that?!” Yusuke demanded.
   “I figured it out on my own!” Kazuma shouted, noticing the anger in Yusuke’s voice when he said Kurama’s name. So did he think Kazuma had hit him or something? “I’m not stupid!”
   At the word ‘stupid’, Yusuke lost his temper.
   He straddled Kazuma by the hips, his knees suddenly pinning Kazuma’s hands painfully down as he slammed his fists into Kazuma’s shoulders. Kazuma could not move and struggled pitifully against Yusuke.
   “Look, I’m sorry for every time I ever called you stupid,” Yusuke snarled, “I know you’re not stupid. I know you’re smart. I wouldn’t have an idiot for a best friend!”
   Kazuma breathed heavily, suddenly realizing how much his body ached. Yusuke had put him through a short ringer, slamming him around like a rag doll despite how Kazuma had hailed him back. Yusuke’s lip was split, blood dribbling down his chin, and yet still Yusuke did not look angry. If anything he looked... disappointed.
   “... We wanted to tell you,” Yusuke said.
   “Then why didn’t you?” Kazuma demanded. He hated himself for the pain that laced his voice, for the weaknesses within him now laid bare for Yusuke to laugh at.
   But Yusuke wasn’t laughing.
   “... honestly?” Yusuke replied, looking up momentarily with a bolt of lightning crashed overhead. It temporarily illuminated his proud face and Kazuma could see a bruise beginning to bloom deep and purple on his neck. “Because it never came up.”
   That was the shittiest excuse Kazuma had ever heard and he issued a weak laugh beneath Yusuke’s pin.
   “That’s the fuckin’ truth, man,” Yusuke snapped, looking back down at him with a brutal stare. “If you had asked I would have told you. But... Hiei was always around when we were talkin’ about Yukina’s long lost brother, and frankly, you always hated Hiei so much. We worried that if you knew you’d be too angry to remember to respect Hiei’s distance.”
   Kazuma felt a sudden sharp stab of anger rise up in him again.
   “I wish Hiei was here so I could beat his stupid face in-!”
   “No!”

   Yusuke’s voice was loud, and almost pleading in its tone. It completely threw Kazuma. Yusuke looked incredibly serious as he regarded Kazuma with slight apprehension.
   “You can’t ever talk to Hiei about this, man,” Yusuke said in that same pleading tone. It was so strange, Kazuma had never heard Yusuke speak to anyone in this way before. “Ever. I’m serious. Don’t ever mention it to him.”
   There, in his face, Kazuma could see it. The pain, the fear, the reason why they’d never told him.

   Not because they didn’t trust him or because he was a fool, but because they were afraid he would speak to Hiei. Because they knew how open and honest he was... and were afraid Hiei would react badly.
   Kazuma had assumed wrong, and Kurama had paid the price.
   “Get off me,” Kazuma blurted out, emotion suddenly spilling from him. Yusuke did as he requested, and Kazuma jerked way, rubbing his bruised and battered hands together as he whimpered.
   “.... You didn’t tell me... because you knew I’d say something?” Kazuma’s words were thick with emotion, impossible to understand save by someone who knew him as well as Yusuke.
   “I’m sorry.” Such an apology was so rare an occurrence from Yusuke that it moved Kazuma to tears, and he had to look away as he felt them begin to creep from his eyes, “I’m sorry. That was... that was my fault. I should have told you the minute that I knew, but I was a stupid kid and I didn’t think you needed to know when you were in love with Yukina. I thought you’d look at Yukina and treat her differently. That was wrong of me. You’re better than that.”
   Kazuma couldn’t stand it.
   He broke down, clutching at his face to hide his tears even as his shoulders wracked with sobs.
   “I said such horrible things to him!” Kazuma burst out.
   Such horrible, horrible things. How could he ever forgive himself?
   For a moment he simply sobbed into his hands, unable to face Yusuke. But as the moments ticked on and Yusuke remained silent, Kazuma’s sobs grew quieter. The moment of initial grief left him, leaving him in a guilty quiet that felt even worse.
   “Kurama.” Yusuke said the name and Kazuma could not help but flinch. “Kurama’s the one.”
   Kazuma looked up, his eyes red and bloodshot. He wiped his face hurriedly on his sleeve, attempting to regain some self-control.
   “Kurama’s your boyfriend.”
   Kazuma groaned, falling over backwards to lay back down on the cold pavement. He did not want to look at Yusuke just now; Yusuke gave him no choice as the sudden warm heat of a body next to him told him that Yusuke had gone so far as to lay down beside him on the concrete. What a sight they must have made, the pair of them lying in an ally like they were star gazing with a thunderstorm looming overhead.
   “Am I right?” Yusuke piped up, “Is Kurama the guy you’re seeing?”
   “Yes,” Kazuma groaned, just to get Yusuke to shut up. Then again, when had Yusuke ever shut up?
   “So you guys went to that night club tonight?”
   “Yes.”
   “And I guess one thing lead to another and you ended up fighting.”
   “Yes... and I... I said some horrible things.” Kazuma sighed, allowing his heated gaze to take comfort in the dark of the skies. Another fork of lightning flashed overhead.
   He was suddenly very glad that he was lying next to his best friend.
   “And at the club, oh my god!” Kazuma cried out, turning to look at Yusuke. Yusuke was watching him with rapt attention, his brown eyes calm and yet bright. It was like they were at a sleep over instead of hiding in an ally. “Kurama was drinking fucking varnish! It could have rubbed off paint, it was so strong! Spirytus, or some shit-“
   “Damn,” Yusuke cursed in appreciation, “Kurama knows how to party.”

   Kazuma could see Yusuke mentally logging that information for later. Another joke, another time.
   “Oh, God,” Kazuma groaned, turning back to look up at the sky again, “I said such awful fucking things to him.”
   “You were upset and hurting. It’s okay.”
   “How did you even find me?” Kazuma demanded.
   There was a rummaging noise, and Kazuma looked over to see Yusuke with his tongue between his teeth as he dug a hand into his pocket. When he brought his hand back up, he was holding his beat up cell phone. For a minute, he just tapped buttons, but when he showed Kazuma the screen he saw a text conversation between Yusuke and Kurama on the screen:
   “Kazuma knows the truth about Hiei. Help him.” was all it said.
   Even after all the horrific things that Kazuma had said to Kurama, Kurama had sought Yusuke out to help him. Kurama had thought of him in his moment of need, and had sent Yusuke after him to beat the crap out of him and lay with him in an ally.

   Kazuma thought he might cry again, and looked away as a prickling sensation occurred at the corners of his eyes.
   “Look, it’s okay,” Yusuke said. He sat up, dusting loose concrete off the back of his jeans as he turned to offer Kazuma hand up. “Come on, let’s go.”
   “Go where?” Kazuma asked, a broken man even as he allowed Yusuke to pull him to his feet. “I- I don’t even know who the fuck I am anymore. God, why did I say those things?”
   Images of Kurama were haunting him, the wretched pain evident on every inch of his perfect face. Pain that Kazuma had put there. Wasn’t it Kazuma himself who’d said weeks ago that lovers shouldn’t hurt each other? Hadn’t he been the one to preach to Hiei how Mukuro was a psychopath for harming him?
   Well, what the hell was he, then?
   “Come on.” Yusuke was pulling him along back down the alley way towards the street. “Quit beating yourself up. You’ll be fine.”
   He did not know if Yusuke’s words held any truth, but Yusuke had led him out of darker situations before with the same attitude. He supposed that he ought to trust instinct by this point and pray it was enough.
   Overhead, the sky finally opened up, and a heavy late summer rain began to pour.
~*~
Kurama had woken up in his front hallway from the sound of his phone vibrating on the tatami mats near his face. His head had pounded, his vision had spun, and as soon as he’d managed to stagger to his feet to try and get water he’d had to veer haggardly to the left in order to seek refuge in his bathroom. He’d ended up vomiting several times, his head pounding so hard he could barely see or think. He drank water straight from the sink faucet, but no matter how much he consumed he still felt thirsty.
   When he finally found the strength to look at his phone, he found several missed calls from various people and a text message from Yusuke that read ‘Come to my restaurant. Need to speak with you ASAP’.
   Fearing the worst after last night, Kurama had left for Yusuke’s.
   Riding the metro was like riding a screaming freight train bound for hell, but there was no way he was getting behind the wheel in his current condition. He probably looked like an escaped mental patient, wearing dark shades to cover his burning eyes and his long hair an absolute mess about his face. He pulled it into a loose bun as he stepped off the metro, trying to look like he gave somewhat of a damn about himself (though the truth couldn’t be further from). By the time he had managed to exit the station, travel down the street, and arrive at Yusuke’s, he was about ready to vomit or collapse again.

   He had no idea which one was going to happen first. Hopefully they wouldn’t occur at the same time.
   It was only nine in the morning and the restaurant wasn’t open for another hour. Yet as Kurama approached the glass front doors, he saw Yusuke on the other side speaking with several employees. He clearly instructed one of them to open the doors for Kurama, and he was let inside.
   “Kurama,” Yusuke greeted, raising a hand in font salut, “Come on over. Lay it down for me.” He followed Yusuke over to the bar where a bartender was restocking alcohol before the lunch rush, and as he slid onto a stool Yusuke went behind the counter to start preparing a beverage. Alka seltzer hissed and bubbled as Yusuke added ginger, coconut water, and other ingredients. Kurama said nothing, his head still pounding far too hard for him to talk.
   “First of all,” Yusuke began, “Spirytus is for two occasions: birth and death. And now you know why.” Yusuke pushed the drink over to him. Kurama waved a hand to try and politely decline, but he nearly fell off his bar stool and had to stop waving at once.
   “I am not drinking for the rest of my life,” Kurama whispered, his voice throaty and broken. He might have had strep-throat for how horrible he sounded.

   “Trust me,” Yusuke urged, “Drink that.”
   Kurama was too weak to put up a fight. He took the glass from Yusuke, swallowing a little bit of it; it was utterly disgusting but still he drank it simply so that Yusuke would leave him alone. He must look a disheveled wreck, and he wondered if Yusuke would ever let him live this down.
   “So, I found Kazuma last night. He punched down a tree.”
   Kurama could certainly see it happening; Kazuma had left in such a state that frankly he had been capable of doing far worse if he had wanted to.
   “... He told me everything,” Yusuke continued on. He began to chop an apple, handing a piece to Kurama to eat. Kurama merely put it in his drink, unwilling to deal with the world for the moment. “About the argument and the night club; the fact that you two have been dating since January and told no one.”
   He said it all so casually, but Kurama could tell that Yusuke was holding back a smirk. Kurama shook his head, wishing he could find a dark quiet corner to curl up in and die.
   Yusuke reached out and slowly pulled Kurama’s sunglasses off his head. The world was incredibly bright, and Kurama grimaced as Yusuke set his glasses aside, looking quite pleased with himself as he smirked.
   “Well, I have three things to say.” Yusuke began eating a slice of apple as he spoke, “For which I have called you here post haste. First...” Yusuke pointed a finger in his face and Kurama winced again, “Fuck you for not telling your friends. Because we love you and frankly, I’m really happy you guys are dating.” Yusuke bit off another piece apple before continuing on, “Secondly... you are fucking insane.”
   Kurama had no idea how to take such a statement, but Yusuke’s tone took a turn for the serious as he leaned in and looked Kurama dead in the eye.
   “I’m well aware of who you are, and what you can do. I know what power you have inside you. If you wanted to you, could bring down this building around my ears and rip Keiko to pieces in front of me. I know that. But guess what? So could I. I could destroy this entire city. I could blast Shiori into a thousand pieces. Now, would I?” Yusuke asked, and Kurama flinched as Yusuke whispered the next word harsh in his face, “No. I would not. And neither would you. When you were Yoko Kurama, you did not have priorities to protect or friends you cared for. All you had was yourself and your glory. I get it... you did shit that horrifies you. I understand that. I understand hating what you see when you look in the mirror, because I did that for years. Every day, I’d go to school, beat the shit out of my classmates and get into turf wars... and every night I’d come home and drink myself to sleep. Because the silence told me what a failure I was. It took me getting hit by a car and dying to figure out how good I had it.”
   Kurama did not know what to say, so he remained silent. But Yusuke’s eyes were boring into his face, and Kurama felt his cheeks began to rush with blood.

   “You feel me?” Yusuke asked.
   Kurama was far from complacent on the issue. “I’ll aim for a hit and run,” he whispered groggily, contemplating if he wandered out into traffic how long it would take for him to get hit by a car.
   A hand, powerful and hot, clamped down on his wrist. Spirit energy suddenly tingled through his flesh as Yusuke grabbed his arm, making his head spin with the minute release of power. It was incredible, simply incredible, to know how much power Yusuke possessed, to feel it rushing into his bones.
   Yusuke’s eyes were boring into Kurama's face again. When he finally met them, he found them deadly.
   “Don’t you go there, rose bud,” Yusuke said. “Don’t you go where we can’t follow.”
   After a second of tense silence, Yusuke withdrew. Kurama’s wrist cooled and Yusuke’s eyes returned to their pleasant calm, a stony reminder of the beast that lay just beneath still surging through Kurama’s shaken system.

   “... He was fuckin’ torn up about what he said. He cried for hours. He wanted to run back to you and apologize the minute it hit him... You do not deserve to suffer alone. No one does,” Yusuke added. When he spoke again, Kurama’s stomach flipped, “Shiori is sick, and that is upsetting to you. I know that because the last time she was sick you nearly killed yourself in front of me.” Kurama scoffed, hurriedly looking away lest Yusuke see the pain in his face. “So don’t try and tell me you’re handling this with grace.”
   Little did Yusuke know that Kurama planned to kill himself again when Shiori died.

   Kurama wished he could blame the migraine pounding through his skull when he felt the burning sensation in the back of his throat, but as tears suddenly threatened to fall he had to hurriedly rub his eyes. He did not want to weep like a child in front of Yusuke.
   He did not want to weep like a child in front of anyone.
   “How bad is it?” Yusuke asked, somber.

   “Very bad,” Kurama whispered, taking the apple out of his drink and eating it before finishing the bizarre cocktail. “She told me back in January she had about a year. So... four months, perhaps. If we’re lucky.”
   Yusuke looked down at the floor for a minute before nodding to signal he’d heard and understood.
   “A brain-“ He had to stop, for what he thought was a laugh coming up turned out to be a dry sob and he instantly suppressed it. Yusuke heard the noise, and his eyes widened as he saw Kurama look away. “... It’s the exact same thing, Yusuke,” Kurama finally whispered. “The exact same thing. As last time.”
   That strange mixture of laughter and tears bubbled up inside of him again; his mind was in shambles about his feet. He did not even know what he was feeling anymore, only that he was feeling too much and it had to stop.
   “I’m losing my mind!” Kurama blurted out, hiding his eyes behind a hand as several tears spilled out. “I’ve tried everything. Hiei tried so hard to help-“
   “That’s why he got beat up?”
   “It was my fault that Hiei got hurt-“
   “Okay, let’s be honest,” Yusuke said at once, a hand upon Kurama’s arm again though this time it was not in threat but in comfort. “Hiei has a smart ass mouth, and Mukuro doesn’t take his crap. You saw her at the tournament, Kurama, she tore his dragon in half. That is not a woman you want to talk smack to. I should know, I’m married to one of them!”

   Kurama could not help but laugh. Yusuke seemed to draw courage from it and pushed forward with another joke.

   “All I’m saying is, if Keiko and Mukuro got into it, I’d be deeply afraid, I would vacate the premises.” Yusuke grinned.
   “Liar.” Kurama tried to a jab, “You’d defend her with your life.”
   “Yeah, and Hiei would probably laugh himself silly,” Yusuke finished. Kurama smiled bitterly, wiping his eyes again, grateful that Yusuke had not capitalized on his tears or tried to smother him with affection. Yusuke had done simply what he did best: lead the way. Kurama would follow gratefully.
   When Yusuke felt it was safe to resume a serious nature again, he did so.

   “Kurama, this can be fixed,” he said.
Kurama shook his head. “It’s for the better. I’m not good for him-“
   “I completely disagree.” Yusuke said, “And the proof is the roof over our heads.” At this, Kurama could not help but look around. He was struck with amazement again that Kazuma had built this entire place in his own mind.
“This was all him,” Kurama said.
   “Yeah, but damn if he didn’t have someone incredible backing him up.”
   Kurama met Yusuke’s eyes, shocked by the sincerity they found there.
   Kurama looked down to avoid that powerful gaze.

   “I can’t do this to him anymore. I’m hurting him, with every day that I... hold back,” Kurama whispered.
   “Why do you hold back?” Yusuke asked.
   “Because I’m going to hurt him,” Kurama said.
   Yusuke paused, confusion upon his face as he did a double take, “You’re hurting him because you’re going to... hurt... him?” Yusuke’s voice went up an octave, unsure of how to take such a message. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
   “It makes perfect sense,” Kurama whispered, he swallowed some ice from his drink, chewing on it thoughtfully.
   “Are you gonna tell me you don’t actually care about him that much?”
   Kurama looked up at Yusuke, and prayed that all he felt showed in his face. Such questions were we really unnecessary, in Kurama’s opinion. But Yusuke continued on.
   “You threw yourself in between him and the door. You yelled at him. You tried to make him stay. You just don’t want to admit how much you care because the minute you do... the lies have to stop. The barriers have to drop.”
Kurama looked away, shaking his head.
   “I know you, Kurama. You are terrified of letting people in. You and Hiei both. The difference between you and Hiei is that Hiei is afraid of getting hurt, and you are afraid of hurting someone else. But you’re not going to. You have to recognize that.” At this, he pointed at Kurama. Kurama wished that he could be the man Yusuke thought he was.
   “I already have-“ Kurama attempted to begin, but Yusuke cut him off.
   “You had a fight,” Yusuke corrected him. “So what? Big deal. I had a fight with Keiko thirty minutes ago cause the bitch wouldn’t move out of my way in the kitchen. It’s just what you do when you love someone. Think about Hiei and Mukuro.... She nearly killed him in her rage. What did Hiei do? ... He cried because he didn’t feel he was enough for her. He didn’t blame her for her punches or the damage they did. He blamed himself, for the pain he caused her. Right now, Kazuma Kuwabara is doubled over in grief... because he’s blaming himself for the things he said to you.”
   Kurama flushed, unsure of how to take such a statement. Kazuma really shouldn’t be blaming himself for anything right now. He was the one who had gotten screwed over last night with ten years’ worth of lies.
   “Go back to him,” Yusuke urged, and Kurama sighed as Yusuke kept pressing his point home, “Go back to him. Suck his face off; and while we’re at it, please, please... suck his dick. I’m begging you. Make me a happy man and suck his dick.”
   Kurama scoffed.
   “Thank you, Yusuke, for that trying sentiment,” Kurama replied crossly. “I will take that into consideration.”
   “And you’re back to normal.” Yusuke grinned, winking at Kurama as he took away Kurama’s finished drink. Kurama watched Yusuke rinse out the glass, marveling at the man before him. Could this really be the punk teenager he had met so long ago? The same man who had been terrified of Toguro and dead on the ground in front of Sensui? It didn’t seem possible and yet it was.
   It was truly wonderful, to have a friend like Yusuke.
   “Alright, scoot scoot,” Yusuke dismissed Kurama. “I gotta work, and you need to go home, bathe, eat, and sleep.” Yusuke ordered. “Because you look like shit.”
   “Thank you,” Kurama said dryly.
   Yusuke winked at him again.
   “... Thank you,” Kurama repeated, this time softer and sincere. Yusuke just smiled and shrugged.
   “Anytime, rose bud,” Yusuke said. “Now scoot.”
   Kurama did as he was told, taking his sun glasses and heading back out the door. It was an unfortunately bright day outside, and he had to put his sunglasses back on again as he crossed the street and pondered what he should do next. There was a bistro across the street from Yusuke’s that sold breakfast, and frankly he was starving. It might be smart to get some eggs if only to have something on his stomach that did not consist of Yusuke’s cocktail. He noticed large banners advertising the property for sale, and suddenly began to marvel at its beautiful hard wood floors. It was a small but lovely cafe, with raised seats and hand made wooden shelves laid into the walls that currently housed a collection of tea cups.
   Kurama wondered at the possibilities for such a place; maybe it was Kazuma’s influence rubbing off on him.
   He really didn’t like what he was doing now, working for his stepfather. If he wanted to be honest with himself, he might enjoy the prospect of starting up his own business, of working with plants to heal both demons and humans in need. He’d always found the job rewarding, but now he was battling with his inner will to live. If Shiori was going to die in a few months, then what did such prospects matter? What would the point be of buying a place and making it into a shop if he was going to die before the year was through?
   Kurama wondered if any of it mattered anymore.
   Yet as he ran a hand over the outer edge of the wooden shelves and wondered at how they would look holding herbs, he was approached by a woman in her mid-fifties who looked exhausted with a pink apron on. She smiled dimly at him, and he realized he was the only customer in the building. She must be the hostess.
   “Are you looking at buying the shop?” she asked.
   Kurama could not deny his interest. “Yes, I am.”
   “Well, I own it. I just put it up for sale a few days ago. It includes both this floor and the house above it. Three bedroom, three bath, fully equipped kitchen and it’s right across the street from a really awesome restaurant,” she gestured to Yusuke’s across the street, “which put me out of business.”

   Kurama winced, knowing Kazuma would have a heart attack if he heard such a story.
   “It’s alright,” the woman said, noting the look of distress on his face. “I was thinking about retiring anyway. I guess I have no choice now. Want a tour?”
   To be fair, he had nothing else to do... and now that he was seeing the shop more clearly, his headache diminishing by the minute, Kurama felt truly interested.
   “Yes.” Kurama smiled, taking off his sunglasses and sticking them in his pocket. “Yes, I do.”

~*~
   An entire week had passed since the disastrous incident at Kurama’s apartment, and Kazuma was beginning to lose hope that Kurama would ever speak to him again. For seven whole days, he’d heard nothing. No texts, no phone calls, no emails... it put him in a terrible mood, which was unfortunate since he now had clients calling him urging him to pick up their cases. At present he sat at Yusuke’s bar right before the dinner rush. The sky was pink and turning into a deeper shade of red as the sun began to set, and all around them tables were being cleared and re-set for the next wave. Keiko sat with him at the bar, going over one or two of her court cases while Yusuke polished glasses and restocked alcohol. Kazuma looked over client folders, wondering which one he should pick. Every now and then, Keiko threw in a comment.
   “That one seems nice, a huge sky scraper...” Keiko offered, looking at the file Kazuma currently held.
   “Tokyo location,” Kazuma mused, “I could use the publicity.”
   “Oooh, call that one Yusuke’s too!” Yusuke grinned, setting the polished glass aside to pick up another one, “I want a chain of buildings named after me! A little army of Yusuke’s ruling Japan!”
   “You’re completely insane, you know that?” Kazuma grumbled, never looking up from his folder. Yusuke just grinned cheekily, unperturbed by Kazuma’s grumpy mood. “I should have never named this restaurant ‘Yusuke’s’. I should have named it ‘Keiko’s’.”
   “That’s okay.” Keiko smiled. “I forgive you.”
   Kazuma chuckled a little. It was the best laugh he’d had in a week.
   “I like my own case work better than restaurants anyway,” Keiko assured him. “At my job, I get to yell at people.”
   “Ah, yes,” Yusuke sneered, “Your profession of choice.”
   Keiko glowered at Yusuke only to turn away. She suddenly bristled, sitting upright as she looked out through the wide glass windows to gaze across the street.
   “Um... Kazuma,” Keiko mumbled.
   “Hmm?”
   “Look,” Keiko said, pointing at the window. Kazuma looked over his shoulder, and at first had no idea what she was pointing at. But then, he saw, and an icy wave of dread swept through him.
   There, across the street, talking with someone who might have been a realtor... was Kurama. He looked exhausted, in a simple white coat with his hair pulled back, and he was shaking a woman’s hand as she handed him over papers in a manilla envelope. He was standing out in front of a cafe that had recently been closed.
   “Go,” Yusuke suddenly urged from behind him, “Go right now. Go.”
   But Kazuma could not move, frozen to his seat.
   “Why are you still sitting here?!” Yusuke demanded angrily. He took Keiko’s case files from her hand and smacked Kazuma hard over the head with them. Kazuma winced, hopping off his barstool at once. “Get moving!”
   Kazuma wished he could have flicked the bastard off, but they were in a fancy restaurant and at least his father had taught him some manners. Shoving his files back into his briefcase, Kazuma trudged out the door, casting a glowering look back over his shoulder at Yusuke who was giving him two thumbs up.
   Good for him, he thought this would go well. Meanwhile Kazuma was certain disaster was about to strike. If Shizuru had been beside him, she would have been doubled over in pain.
   Crossing the street as soon as he got the light, Kazuma hesitantly approached the cafe that Kurama had entered, noting that it had incredible carved woodwork amid mostly brick and metal shops. The interior had been gutted, cleared away by the former owner. Now there was only Kurama inside, looking tired but hopeful as he spoke with the same woman who had been standing out front with him.
   “It’s a prime location, and I’m very excited about your prospective plans! We need more natural remedies in today’s world. So much is being taken away by the pharmaceutical industry,” the woman said.
   “Well,” Kurama’s voice filled him up, so soft, sweet, and beautiful. It had been far too long since he’d heard it, “I’ve seen the wonders of homeopathic remedies.”
   “I hope you like it. It’s all yours.” She handed Kurama a key, and Kurama accepted it to pocket it. The woman turned, and at first Kazuma feared Kurama was going to turn around and see him, but Kurama just kept looking away. He didn’t seem to care whether the woman left or stayed. He was almost dazed and confused, his expression and posture vacant.
   The woman passed by Kazuma on the way out. Kazuma watched her go, wondering who she had been and what had occurred in the week that Kurama had not spoken with him.

   Kurama still wasn’t looking. The silence was stretching.
   “... You bought a shop,” Kazuma spoke up, his voice incredibly timid in the quiet of the empty room. Kurama stiffened for a moment, turning his head only slightly. For a moment nothing was said.
   “... I was tired of my day job,” Kurama whispered back.
   “What are you gonna do with it?” Kazuma asked, leaning against the door frame and folding his arms over his broad chest.
   “I want to make a place where people can come when they are sick. Humans and demons.”
   “So you can heal them with your plants.”
   Kurama nodded, never turning around. It was killing Kazuma, this horrible tension between them. He needed it to end, for something to be resolved.
   “Are you gonna look at me?” Kazuma asked, a bit more brusquely than he had intended.
   Kurama slowly turned around, and it was only then that Kazuma saw how haggard, how truly tired Kurama was. There were deep shadows underneath his lovely green eyes, and his skin was unusually waxen. He seemed thinner, as if he had not eaten well.
   He could have been covered in dirt; he still looked like an angel to Kazuma.

   “... I missed you,” Kazuma could not help but say. Kurama looked down, his hands clasped before him.
   So much was said in that silence; so much pain and suffering.
   “I was gonna head back to my place, and get some work done, but maybe we could talk instead?” Kazuma asked.
   Kurama nodded, still looking at the floor. “If that is what you wish.”

~*~
   The walk back to Kazuma’s apartment was a tense one. Not a word was spoken, and Kurama knew that when they arrived they would no doubt face another screaming match. For the past week he had barely ate or slept, so consumed with the sins of his past and the predicament of his future that human necessities became mere afterthoughts in his mind. He was exhausted and starving, wishing that he could eat a buffet meal and then fall asleep for a day, but the world never stopped turning and now Kurama had to somehow explain to his step-father that he was quitting his job to sell herbs.
   He really should have thought this plan out better. It was abysmal, now that he observed it from a distance.
   They arrived at Kazuma’s apartment, and Kazuma let them in. Kurama toed off his shoes, slightly nervous as he shrugged out of his coat. He took the deed to his new estate with him, following Kazuma down the hall and into his tidy kitchen. Kurama sat down at the table, unsure of what to do. Kazuma took the lead, laying his briefcase aside to fish through the cupboards.
   “What kind of tea should I make?” Kazuma thought aloud.
   “Surprise me,” Kurama murmured; he had no idea what kind of tea Kazuma even owned. He looked down at the deed, opening it up to scan through it one more time as Kazuma set a kettle to boil. No words were spoken as Kazuma made them tea, and when he returned to the table Kurama accepted the mug in humble thanks.
   “Careful... it’s hot,” Kazuma warned him.
Kurama finished reading over the deed, well aware that the tea would be scalding for a moment or two. When he took the mug in hand, he blew across the surface of the liquid, disrupting the steam there.
“I’m getting better at recognizing herbs,” Kazuma said. “This is chamomile, right?”
Kurama took a sip of his tea. “Arsenic,” he replied, trying for a joke simply because he wished for something to distract him from the hell in which he lived.

   Kazuma chuckled, and the deep rumbling sound caused something familiar and pleasant to stir in Kurama’s chest.
“Nice try, Kurama.”
Both their hands were on the table, and suddenly the familiar weight of Kazuma’s fingers was atop his own. It was a marvelous thing to experience, something whole and real after feeling pain for so long. “I love you.” Kazuma said, as an afterthought.
   The words spiked an icy dread in Kurama’s chest, and he quickly tugged his hand away.
   Suddenly that horrible silence was back between them; it was time for it to be faced with honor. No more hiding or loving pretenses.
   “I think you do not understand who I am,” Kurama began, wary of every word that he spoke.
   “But I think you’re wonderf—“
   “I am irredeemable,” Kurama interrupted, and the coldness in his tone surprised even him. “A killer. A disingenuous fraud who has shattered countless lives. If you truly knew me, I can promise you that you would have no reason to say... that.”
   Kazuma immediately bristled, growing angry as he began to shout: “Now, wait a minute! That’s not-!”
   “Spare your breath!” Kurama snapped, his tone stunning Kazuma into silence. “I have no interest in arguing over facts!”

   Kazuma watched him, wary.
   “Shiori’s maternal instinct compels her to love this human body. Knowing the truth about me would devastate her, conflict her. But it should not conflict you.” Kurama could feel the air shift as Kazuma withdrew a little, horrified by his words. “Continuing to harbor feelings for me will only cause you pain.”
   Kurama looked at Kazuma, and the sight of tears in those genial and adoring eyes sprung a leak of self-hatred inside of him that he could not stop. “You see?” Kurama gestured hopelessly. “I’ve even made you cry.”
   He rose abruptly from his seat but even as he did Kazuma’s hand shot out and grabbed his wrist.
   Suddenly Kurama could not leave, trapped by Kazuma’s iron grip. His heart was pounding in his chest, breaking him with every angry beat-
   “Wait! Kurama, please,” Kazuma begged, his tone wavering but sincere. “I’m not... I’m not crying. See?”
   He was wiping his own tears away, trying to appear strong; Kurama could not stand it, Kazuma’s selflessness drove him to even further depths of agony. How could he not see? How could he not understand? If he continued to love Kurama, all he would ever do was cry...
   He would die from the pain. One of them would, Kurama was sure of it.
   “You’re not gonna change my feelings,” Kazuma said, and there was such strength in his voice that it rocked Kurama to the core.
   How could he still feel this way for Kurama? Knowing what he knew? Feeling what he felt?
   “You’re not gonna change my mind. You think I don’t know you, but I do.”
   Kurama trembled at those words. Those simple and loving words spoke that volumes of their prior friendship and adventures. Those words which assured him that he was not a killer, that he was not a monster.
   His muffled breathes were upon the air, and he could feel Kazuma pulling him back, trying to get him to turn around. When Kurama finally relented, he could not hide the pain on his face though he tried to bite his lip and muffle his tears.

   He did not want anyone to see him cry, but now he had no choice. Now Kazuma was witnessing his tears. But instead of making him week, they seemed to bring him strength. Kazuma pulled him in, and suddenly one of his strong, warm hands was cupping Kurama’s cheek, wiping away the tears there with his thumb.
   “This is you,” Kazuma corrected him softly. “And you’re my favorite person.”
   Kurama could stand it no more; he collapsed into Kazuma’s arms. He felt them encircle him at once, pulling him into a warm embrace that promised him protection and salvation as he wept into Kazuma’s shoulder.
   “I think that is incredibly foolish,” he managed to grind out, so furious that Kazuma would not listen, so furious that he would not pay heed and run away.
   So furious... but so grateful.
   “I don’t care,” came the unrelenting response, the tears long gone from Kazuma’s own voice.
   Kurama grabbed at Kazuma with his hands, holding him as tightly as he could, praying to God Kazuma would not let him go as all the agony from Shiori’s illness, Hiei’s predicament, Kuronue’s suffering, and his own terrible fears suddenly surrounded him like a howling wilderness. He was weeping now, gasping on deep lungfuls of air that left him trembling as he tried to find the strength to stand. It seemed to go on forever, there in that cozy little kitchen; a room that suddenly Kurama wished never to leave.
   He wanted to remain in the quiet here, to draw strength from Kazuma endlessly until the world seemed a little more bearable again. He was weakened, on his knees before the cruelties of his own karma and fate... but if Kazuma was beside him, helping him to draw strength from the small bits of good he could find, Kurama might just stand a chance.
   Kurama needed Kazuma. He needed to be held, to be loved, to be praised and cherished.
   The fact that Kazuma did all these things slowly stemmed his wracking sobs; each breath was a little softer than the last.
   After a moment, he felt like he was breathing normally though he was truly and utterly exhausted. He might sleep for ten years after this.
   “... Are you okay?” Kazuma asked, pulling back slightly to look at Kurama’s face. Kurama did not know how he must have appeared, but he certainly knew how he felt.
   “I have lived hundreds of years in total ignorance of what it was like to have this,” Kurama whispered. “Yet I have it now, and never asked for it. I certainly never deserved it. But I think if it were torn away now my life would be utterly barren. Devoid of anything good.”
   He looked up and his eyes finding Kazuma’s face. Kazuma rubbed his back soothingly, his loving eyes washing over Kurama’s tear stained face with greatest care.
   “What are you talking about?” Kazuma asked.
   “You. Your love,” Kurama said.
   Suddenly he felt the need, the urge, to confess every wrong he’d ever committed.
   “There was this man I knew when I was Yoko Kurama... He was kind. He was kind and good, and he kept coming back even though I... I used him. I treated him like trash. I didn’t care whether he lived or died, but he cared. I was weak, I was in hiding, trying to ride out my wounds, and he cared for me. As if I was his lover, as if I was good to him. As if I deserved his love!” Kurama could not help but feel bitter, even as he pressed his face to Kazuma’s chest again, “He did everything right, and I never....”
   Kurama had no idea what he was trying to say, so he started again, “I used him. He deserved someone kind and good and instead he got me because he had it in his head that I was something worth fighting for! And so he fought... and when they closed in on us, he staved them off long enough to let me get away. If I had had the opportunity to save him, I like to think I would have but... I know I wouldn’t have. Because I know who I was then. I know what I am capable of... even if you do not. You’re the just the same! You're just the same!” Kurama repeated, and suddenly the tears were back as he buried his face into Kazuma’s chest, “You don’t understand. You don’t see me for who I am. You don’t... you don’t see what I can do to you. You don’t see how unsafe you are. I love you. I love you and I am terrified for you.”
   Kazuma suddenly pulled back, grabbing Kurama’s face as he looked him straight in the eye and-- smiling?
   Kazuma was smiling, beaming even.
   “... You love me?” he repeated.
   Kurama was too shocked to speak.
   “You just said you love me,” Kazuma said.

   Kurama could not believe it. He turned away, slipping from Kazuma’s fingers and hurriedly wiping the tears from his cheeks, but Kazuma was upon him in an instant. He was laughing, of all things--laughing! As if any of this was funny!
   “No, no, no!” Kazuma was grabbing Kurama from behind and holding him tight about the waist. He pressed gentle kisses into his neck, loving Kurama even as Kurama wished for death. “Wait... Wait. It’s okay,” he soothed. “It’s okay.”
   But another laugh bubbled up from his throat.
   “How is that you are laughing?” he snapped.
   “Because I’m so happy that you love me,” Kazuma said in joyful disbelief.
   Kurama buried his face in his hands. Why had he said such a thing? Why... Why?
   “I can’t say it,” Kurama whispered through his fingers. “Not until I... trust... myself.”
   “I understand,” Kazuma murmured into his hair, still pressing kisses.
   “I need you,” Kurama admitted, and Kazuma’s arms were wrapping tighter around him, pressing them both together as if to merge them into one body. “I need you so much I could die from it.”
   “You have me.”
   Oh, how it rocked Kurama to the core.
   He was shaking, utterly devoid of strength as he trembled in Kazuma’s arms. Kazuma could feel it, could feel how cold Kurama was.
   “You’re shaking.”
   “I don’t feel well.”
   Kazuma pressed another kiss into his hair.
   “Why don’t we lay down for a bit? You’ll feel better if you sleep.”
   Kazuma’s words were golden, a solid and sweet promise of a bed in the very near future. Kurama followed like a lost sheep back to the flock as Kazuma lead him down the short hallway into his bedroom and softly shut the door. Eikichi was asleep on Kazuma’s desk chair; she did not stir as they neared the bed.
   Kurama looked down at it, at how soft and lovely it appeared, and promptly fell into it. He did not care if he looked classless or boorish. He wanted to sleep, to close his eyes and never open them. Suddenly the bed was dipping with extra weight, and his heart leapt in his weary chest as Kazuma climbed into bed behind him.
   He pulled Kurama tight to his chest, burying his face in his hair. There, still and calm, their heat began to merge and pool, spreading through Kurama’s veins and rekindling a sense of peace he hadn’t known in ages as Kazuma soothingly rubbed circles into his stomach.
   He was falling, falling into that embrace. Falling into the gray, where only lovers could remain.
- 8
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Into the Gray