Echoes XIV



Beloved



Kurama twirled a pen between his fingers with careless ease, watching with a 
raised eyebrow and amused smile as Yo-mawari paced, often replying to the 
dark-haired youko’s mumbling with sallies of his own, grinning innocently when 
his twin turned to glare. He leaned back comfortably in his chair, crossing his 
legs, unable to keep the smirk from his face as Yo-mawari ran hands through his 
hair, making the black length, already tangled from similar previous actions, 
stand on end for a few seconds, before drifting back down to frame Yo-mawari’s 
face. His twin looked like a madman at the moment, pacing and muttering to 
himself as if he were the only living being in the apartment. Hiei had long 
since tired of watching him pace, and had left, presumably, to wander by 
himself, outside, among the rooftops.
His poor brother wasn’t taking well to being in love, Kurama thought with an 
inward, dry chuckle. He couldn’t remember his first love, but he could remember 
being as nervous; worry about a thousand small things that had seemed very 
important at the time - it wasn’t something that could easily be forgotten. And 
it probably would have been just as bad with Hiei, Kurama reflected, if he 
hadn’t been so drunk at the time.
Finally, tired of watching his brother pace, Kurama rose to his feet in a 
graceful gesture, crossing the gap between them in three wide strides, and 
caught his brother’s arm as the latter pivoted for another round of pacing. As 
his brother’s black eyes blinked at him, surprised, he smiled encouragingly, 
pushing his brother in the general direction of the door.
“Kyoudai, pacing is not going to get you anywhere, except maybe into a hole you 
work into the ground,” he said firmly, though the amusement was visible in his 
eyes. “Go talk with her, for Inari’s sake; she’s not dangerous; Inari knows 
she’s never let me teach her how to fight; you have no reason to be afraid of 
her!”
“Yes, I do!” Yo-mawari snapped back, wringing his hands and stepping away from 
Kurama, a nervous frown on his face. “What if - what if she doesn’t feel the 
same way? What if she laughs in my face? What if -”
“Oh, please. Don’t you start with the ‘What If’ game,” Kurama said patiently, 
rolling his eyes at Yo-mawari’s desperate tone. “It only makes things seem a lot 
worse than they actually are. Like I said: there is no reason to be afraid of 
her; I know for a fact she likes you, as well.”
“Yes, but is it the same way?” Yo-mawari bemoaned, shaking his head in 
frustration. “For all we know, she could just see me as a friend, and the 
thought of a potential lover has never crossed her mind!” He sighed heavily, 
breaking away from the conversation and walking to the chair, collapsing 
bonelessly into it as he ran his hands through his hair again. “I’m going 
insane,” he complained, rubbing his temples.
Kurama laughed at that, going to stand next to his brother, and ruffling the 
mussed black hair affectionately. “Well, don’t drag me along with you!” he 
snapped, in a mock-scolding manner. “I have enough to drive me insane as it is, 
without your problems.” He smiled to take the sting out of his words, then shook 
his head ruefully. “If you could just talk with her, kyoudai-kun, it would at 
least make you feel better. You don’t even have to bring up the kiss, or 
anything.” He smiled brightly. “I have an idea - you go stay with her for a week 
or two. She’ll probably enjoy the company, and you can see if what you feel and 
what she feels are real, and I get to be alone with Hiei.” He winked 
mischievously, wringing a tired laugh from his brother before he hauled himself 
to his feet.
“I take back what I said earlier. I am insane,” he declared to Kurama, even as 
the redhead gently shoved him from the apartment, laughing softly. “What that 
girls makes me feel every time I so much as see her utterly terrifies me, yet 
here I’ve let you talk me into staying with her for a few weeks.” He shook his 
fist Kurama in mock-threat. “This had better be worth it,” he growled, though 
laughter-glints shone in his eyes.
Kurama smiled back. “Oh, I’m sure it will,” he replied, then closed the door, 
turning to look at the now-empty apartment. As much as he loved his brother, he 
could be impossibly dense, sometimes ... Kurama laughed again to himself, 
shaking his head, then headed for the bedroom, wondering briefly if Hiei had 
returned yet from his meandering as he pushed the door open.
He blinked at the small, dark figure that was seated on the bed, watching him 
expresionlessly, then smiled warmly. He took a few steps towards the bed, 
stretching his hands out as if in greeting, his lips about to form Hiei’s name, 
when the small youkai held up a hand, asking for the silence to be continued. 
Surprised and confused, Kurama obeyed, cocking his head to one side as he paused 
in mid-stride.
Hiei slid off the bed with a boneless sort of grace, approaching Kurama with an 
odd, intense look haunting his bright eyes. He stopped, just a few inches before 
Kurama, looking up into the redhead’s face with a sad, thoughtful solemness that 
the youko didn’t understand. Concerned, he began to lean forward, stretching out 
his hands to rest them on Hiei’s slender shoulders, when his lover’s small, 
strong hands caught his, holding them in a tight, almost desperate grip as the 
red eyes searched his face, asking questions he couldn’t understand, and wasn’t 
sure if he could answer.
Finally, after a few moments, Hiei grated something out, rough with tension, and 
Kurama could tell how much the single statement cost him, by the darkening 
shadows in his lover’s red eyes.
“Kurama ... I’m ... I’m sorry,” he breathed, almost unheard, only meeting 
Kurama’s startled eyes for a few seconds before dropping his gaze, fixating it 
on the buttons of Kurama’s shirt, refusing to stir, even when the youko made a 
small sound of surprise, then carefully went to his knees, twisting his hands a 
little in Hiei’s grasp, wriggling his fingers free so that they could close over 
Hiei’s fists in return. He peered into his lover’s downcast face, trying to find 
the small youkai’s red eyes, and failing.
“About what?” he asked, as gently as he could, trying to project his confusion 
as he continued. “I don’t understand ...”
Before he could continue, Hiei tilted his head up, meeting Kurama’s eyes 
squarely, and that same twisting uncertainty was plainly evident in his gaze; 
the same sort of doubt that Kurama knew, from experience, could eat a soul up 
from the inside out. Worried, he started to open his mouth again, when Hiei’s 
voice interrupted, still rough, still soft.
“How can you stay that?” he demanded, almost incredulous, never wavering in his 
steadfast regard. “I - I - there are things that I’ve done that have hurt you. 
Badly. And you say there’s nothing to be sorry about?” With a sudden, jerking 
motion, Hiei wrenched his hands from Kurama’s, and began to pace, the circle he 
walked tightly controlled, his shoulders hunched from tension. The redhead 
rocked back onto his heels, startled, watching his lover with an unreadable 
expression as Hiei continued, his voice gaining in strength and volume as he 
warmed to the subject, his reckless mood scraping his rigid control into further 
oblivion as the memories the dreamwalk had thrown at him rose, until he couldn’t 
think of anything else.
“I hurt you,” he spat, viciously, still not stopping his nervous pacing, “and I 
continue to hurt you every day, and you still say there is nothing to be sorry 
about? After some of the things I’ve done to you, you should hate me - you 
should want to leave - and yet -” Hiei came to an abrupt stop, turning to scowl 
darkly at Kurama. “How can you say something like that, after what I’ve done? 
Especially - especially after that incident with ’Wari ... I followed him for a 
stupid fight, and you ... you nearly ...”
As if suddenly realizing the emotional outburst he was having, the way he was 
flinging words out without a care of what he said, made him pause, shocked to 
find how thin his emotional shields had become, since that odd, almost surreal 
event. They had eroded more in those short two days, then it had in nearly all 
his four centuries of life. He shook his head, unable to speak anymore.
Kurama cocked his head to one side; the unreadable expression made Hiei 
extremely nervous, though he managed to keep his reaction under control, even 
when Kurama rose to his feet and padded to stand before him again, kneeling 
before him, so that they were in an identical position to the one they’d held 
before. He closed his eyes, involuntarily, steeling himself for the fox’s 
dispassionate voice, telling him any number of cutting things, in return -
“You’re an idiot.” It was not said unkindly; he could even detect amusement in 
the warm voice. He opened his eyes again, and found himself staring directly 
into his lover’s bright green eyes, both ancient and young, gently teasing.
“You talk of your great sacrifice, and how you keep doing things that no sane 
person would stay around after suffering,” Kurama continued, casually, sliding 
his arms around Hiei’s neck and pulling him close, so that their foreheads 
touched, and he both heard and felt his lover chuckle, the slender chest 
vibrating under his own, the warm alto voice ringing in his ears. “But what 
about me? Hiei, I’ve done my share of stupid things; Inari knows there are times 
when I push you too much about something, or I do something that hurts your 
feelings - but does that make you hate me? Does that make you want to leave me, 
and never even look back?”
“No!” he exclaimed, too startled to mask his reaction. “But - but that’s 
different -”
“I don't see how.” Kurama pulled away a little, tilting his head to one side, 
and now Hiei could see the loving smile on the redhead’s face, warm and 
welcoming anything he could say.
“I - you - we’re different -” he stammered, unable to remember his arguments.
“Well, of course we are,” Kurama teased, pushing at his shoulders lightly, 
forcing him to step backward until the back of his knees collided with the bed; 
after that, it only took a well-placed shove to send him toppling back onto the 
blankets. Kurama crawled onto the bed, straddling Hiei’s hips and grinning down 
at him, with that same insanely mischievous smile that would have warned any 
sane thing something was in the planning. Hiei could only stare dumbly as his 
lover’s bright eyes raked over him, thoughtfully. “If we were, I doubt we would 
have lasted as long as we have,” he continued, casually, running his nails 
lightly down Hiei’s chest through the thin cloth of his shirt. “After all, 
what’s the fun in being in a relationship with someone exactly like you?”
He leaned forward, resting his palms on either side of Hiei’s head, his eyes 
glittering with surpressed amusement. Shaking his head so that the long red 
forelocks slipped over his shoulders and trailed into Hiei’s face, his fiendish 
grin softening into something warmer, more loving, though the hint of devilish 
humor was still there, lurking behind the smile. “So, with everything brought 
into consideration,” he concluded, shifting his weight to his left and bringing 
up his right hand so that he could brush his knuckles lightly over Hiei’s cheek, 
“you have absolutely nothing to be sorry about.” He raised an eyebrow at him, 
questioning. “Got that?”
For a few moments, Hiei only stared back at his lover. He swallowed, then 
reached up, hesitantly, worming one arm free to brush lightly at Kurama’s long 
hair, pushing it from his face and staring blankly at his lover. The redhead’s 
face was unguarded, his expression genuinely amused, and perfectly content. 
Kurama shifted again, pushing the slender red locks back until they were neatly 
tucked behind his ears. He tried to speak, then gave up the attempt; the lump 
that had risen in his throat had left it dry, and he was certain that anything 
he attempted to say would only come out as a pitiful squeak.
Abruptly, Kurama rolled off him in a smoothly graceful gesture, wriggling on the 
bed until he lay on his side, facing Hiei. Lazily, he reached out to trace 
patterns on the exposed skin of Hiei’s arm, his eyes half-lidded, focused on 
Hiei’s shoulder. “Now what’s bothering you?” he asked in a coaxing tone, not 
lifting his gaze or stilling the motions of his fingers. “You haven’t even 
grunted at me yet.”
Hiei frowned, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “I -” he managed, before 
Kurama’s light fingers ghosted over a ticklish spot, causing him to jerk in 
reaction. He shifted so that he could face his lover, as well, and pushed 
himself up onto his elbow, staring. “Kurama -”
“Hn?” the redhead replied, looking up at him expectantly. That dreamy, far-off 
look made Hiei stumble over his words again, and he took a deep breath, then 
reached out, blindly, to touch his lover’s face in a feather-light caress that 
was gone seconds before Kurama registered it. The fox blinked at that, a small, 
confused frown appearing on his face as he began shift, making as if to sit up. 
“Hiei, is there something wrong - ?” he began, before Hiei reached out, calmly, 
and pushed gently back to the bed.
For a moment, he saw the jewel-toned eyes of the Shadow-Lover, distant and 
watching; there was a hint of knowing sadness in the porcelain, delicate-boned 
face; Botan’s male counterpart seemed to bow, slightly, as if giving his 
blessings, and the black satin of his robes rippled, once, before the image 
faded, leaving him with the concerned visage of his fox.
The same fox he’d nearly killed, because of a stupid mistake he’d made over his 
own worthless pride -
The same fox who had nearly died because of his hesitance in battle, throwing 
his fragile human body in the path of gleaming, deadly claws -
The same fox who had forgiven him utterly, without a second thought.
He drew on that tiny thread of comfort, trying to sap the courage he needed from 
it. He’d faced so many opponents before, countless youkai who were immensely 
more powerful, and none of them had ever inspired the same depth of fear he felt 
when this slender, delicate, weak human was concerned -
“Kurama, I ...”
Why couldn’t he complete the phrase? They were only two words; two simple words 
that would have come easily for anyone else.
“I ...”
Kurama reached out, laying a slender finger over Hiei’s lips, stilling the 
broken stammer. “Shhh,” he whispered. “Later. You can tell me later.”
“No.” That word also came at a great cost; everything since the first apology 
had been. “No; if I don’t tell you know, I never will.” He was silently berating 
himself as the fool; it would have been much easier - and probably much better - 
if he had agreed with Kurama, allowed his lover to shush him, pretending that 
what he was trying to say wasn’t all that important.
But the words spilled out, anyway. He’d started it; he would have to see it 
through. “Kurama, you know I’m not good with words,” he began hesitantly, 
half-hoping Kurama would interrupt him again; half-hoping that the redhead would 
continue his attentive silence. “But I also know how much they mean to you, and 
-” he stopped, gathering his thoughts, frowning with the intensity of his 
concentration.
Kurama reached up, smoothing his frown with light fingertips. “And what - ?” he 
prompted gently, raising a questioning eyebrow. Hiei sighed, and dropped his 
gaze to the curve of Kurama’s throat, focusing doggedly on that shadowed place.
“And I thought I could do this ...” he muttered, half to himself, sitting up 
with an abrupt jerk. Kurama blinked up at him in surprise, rolling slightly so 
that he was on his back, still facing the smaller youkai. Hiei reached out, 
slowly, brushing some of the longer trailing locks of red hair from Kurama’s 
face, noting, with a detached sense of self-disgust, that his hand shook as he 
reached out, and then pulled it back. He could sense his lover’s growing 
impatience with his hesitance, and struggled as best he could to bring the words 
out. “Well -”
Kurama reached out, catching his hand, clasping it between his own firmly. The 
amused twinkle was back in his eyes, but his voice was stern as he scolded his 
lover. “Hiei, if you don’t get on with it, I won’t be held responsible for my 
actions.” He winked flirtatiously, pressing his lips to the back of Hiei’s hand. 
“So talk. Now.”
Seconds dragged on without another word from either of them; Hiei remained 
completely still, his red eyes full of conflicting emotions as he stared at the 
smiling human in front of him.
Finally, he leaned towards Kurama, closing his eyes and resting his forehead 
against his lover’s chest, close to the reassuring, steady beat of Kurama’s 
heart. His lover’s arms wrapped around him, holding him close, as he silently 
tried to say the words one last time.
“Iloveyou.” It was blurted out in a jumbled rush, almost incoherent.
He cursed himself as he said the words, cringing mentally as he felt Kurama 
stiffen, the slender arms around him tightening convulsively; almost painfully. 
He bore it silently, holding himself perfectly still within Kurama’s embrace, 
eyes still tightly closed. He wanted to pull away, to hide from Kurama’s 
inevitable explosive reaction - be it of happiness, anger, or any other of a 
thousand emotions - but, at the same time, he wanted to look up - to see if his 
words had made any visible impact on his lover’s face.
Strong, insistent hands caught at his shoulders, pulling him up, and pushing him 
away at the same time. He kept his eyes closed, even as he felt himself being 
moved; Kurama shifted, then sat up, the two of them facing each other, his hands 
still closed over Hiei’s arms. His heart was pounding loudly in his ears, 
drowning out nearly everything else - even the times when he had stood, fully 
encased in the raging fury of the Kokuryuuha, and its screams echoed in his ears 
- even those had not been this loud.
“Hiei -” Kurama’s voice, however, cut easily through that heavy, intense 
pounding like a sharp, clear silver knife, and he jerked as if physically 
shocked, eyes flying open to stare blankly into Kurama’s face, bare inches from 
his own.
A small, tentative smile curved Kurama’s mouth, and there was an odd look in his 
deep green eyes. “Hiei,” he repeated, sliding one hand up to touch Hiei’s cheek 
lightly, “did you just say -”
“Yes,” he muttered harshly, still uncomfortable with his confession, wishing 
more fervently than ever that he could hide, to pull away. Yet, he was frozen, 
unable to move, pull away - or even drop his eyes from Kurama’s gently probing 
green gaze. “I did. Is there something wrong with trying to make you happy?” In 
his lap, his hands grasped each other, twisting in the other’s tight grip, his 
sharp nails cutting the skin of his palms.
“Oh, stop that,” Kurama scolded, and the loving tone made him jerk again, his 
eyes half-closing as he stared at the redhead warily, unable to speak. That 
happy smile from before was back, multiplied a thousandfold, and the dazzling 
happiness that was so easily visible made him falter for a moment, almost 
humbled. Kurama’s hands slid further up his arms, moving to grasp his chin in 
firm, gentle palms, holding him in place. “I am very grateful, dearheart,” he 
said quietly. “I know how much it costs you. But, tell me -” he shifted, 
slightly, and there was a darker look in his eyes, now; a solemn gleam that 
counteracted some of the glowing joy - “what brought this on?”
He shifted, then bowed his head, a little, feeling more uncomfortable as the 
seconds dragged by. He mumbled something incoherent, and Kurama leaned forward, 
frowning. “I didn’t quite hear -”
“I said - that healer-girl of yours did,” Hiei growled fiercely, snapping his 
head back up, eyes dancing with an angry fire. “That damned dreamwalk she 
suggested - the things I saw there - I -”
Kurama smiled again, gently, pressing his fingers lightly over Hiei’s lips, 
stopping the babbling flow. “I see,” he said softly, his voice thoughtful. “So 
did you say it out of some sense of guilt - ?”
“Of course not!” he hissed angrily, in reply. “I really do love you, you moronic 
fox, so get it through you damned skull that just ’cause I don’t say it often 
doesn’t mean I don’t feel it!”
Kurama froze, again, his eyes wide, the silly little smile on his face widening. 
“That’s twice you’ve said that,” he murmured happily, though more to himself, 
tilting his head to one side, green eyes soft and dazed as he stared at Hiei. 
“Are you sure you’re feeling all right?”
Hiei scowled, pulling out of Kurama’s loosened grasp, then shot his arms out, 
shoving Kurama over backwards onto the bed, crawling over to straddle his waist, 
sitting atop him and glaring down at the bemused redhead, the dark look on his 
face belied by the gentleness in his eyes. He leaned forward, over his lover, 
mirroring the opposite of their positions earlier that evening, and whispered, 
softly, into Kurama’s ear, “Wipe that smirk off your face, fox. It doesn’t suit 
you.”
The redhead wrinkled his nose at him, then stuck his tongue out in a petulantly 
childish gesture. “Make me,” he taunted in reply, winking mischievously. “And I 
bet’cha that you can’t.”
Hiei smiled, wickedly; the same half-grin he usually displayed during battle. He 
had never been one to let a challenge go answered - and, in response to the 
redhead’s smug grin, he proceeded to prove to Kurama that - yes - he could make 
Kurama do whatever he wanted.






Okay, he coached himself mentally, staring at the ground, watching his feet as 
they led him down the path he had traveled only a few times before - but felt 
naggingly familiar, all the same. You can do this. It’s not a big deal. Just 
tell her that the two ‘lovebirds’ back home need a little time to themselves, as 
do the others; tell her I need a place to stay for a few weeks. Easy, ne?
It took him a few moments to realize he had stopped walking, and he looked up at 
the hulking dark figure of Kuraihana’s home, and swallowed nervously. This would 
be easy, he reminded himself. He just had to keep his cool, and not allow 
himself to get too carried away. Keep it steady, and no harm would be done. He 
would have a place to stay for a few weeks, and she would have some help with 
... whatever little things a healer did while there was no one dying or sick or 
in need of her services. Easy.
Yeah, right, he snorted to himself, sighing as he climbed the stairs, fighting 
to keep from turning and fleeing back into the dark woods. He stopped at the 
door, staring at it for a long, indeterminate period of time, still trying to 
convince himself that this was the right thing to do; that he would not go to 
pieces if she were the one to open the door, and -
The door cracked open, and a thin, bloodshot, colorless eye peered at him 
blindly for a few seconds, before it was flung open, and the small, 
skeleton-creature grinned toothily at him, dancing in place. The arms, bony, 
with its melting flesh, traced wide circles in the air, and it made a sound 
distinctly like laughter. “Ah! Ah! Ah! Welcome, m’lord, welcome!” it 
sing-songed, moving out of Yo-mawari’s way and bowing low. “M’lady won’t be 
expecting ye, but does that matter? She’ll be overly glad to see ye, m’lord; she 
will, she will!” It waved at him, as he stepped past it, and into the cool 
darkness of the hallway. “Hurry, hurry, hurry now - she be reading in the 
library, that she would be - don’t keep your lady waiting, m’lord; no, wouldn’t 
be good at all, no, to keep her waiting! Move, move, hurry!” It pushed at him 
frantically, grinning at him and nodding its wide-eyed head.
He nodded, feeling a nervous lurch in his stomach. He walked slowly towards the 
library, dawdling as much as he could; literally dragging his feet, his mind 
racing furiously.
He knew what he was going to tell her; Hiei and Kurama needed quality time 
together, without him around to distract them. The others were either too busy 
or too crowded to take him in - Yuusuke and Keiko had enough problems with 
helping Kuwabara and Yukina finish the last-minute last minute plans, and the 
twins added presence would not help, either. He knew he would tell her that.
The problem was, he didn’t know what to say.
He opened the door to the library quietly, feeling the nervous tension that had 
been knotting in his stomach tighten, making him feel almost physically ill for 
a few seconds. He swayed, dizzy, then shook his head, squinting until he saw the 
faint, pale gray thread of candle smoke rising from the front of one of the two 
large chairs that stood, backs facing him. As he stood, merely watching, her low 
alto voice rose from the same general place, annoyed and curt.
“I’m afraid I’m a little busy, at the moment, sir or ma’am,” she said shortly. 
“I will be happy to hear what you need to tell me after I finish this last note. 
If it’s not urgent, please wait until I’m through.”
He coughed, at that, one hand creeping up to rub the back of his neck in a 
decidedly nervous gesture. “Uh - um - Kuraihana-san ...” he could feel his face 
heating, and hoped he wasn’t blushing as much as he thought he was. “I hate to 
bother you, but ...”
“Yo-mawari-san?” she interrupted him, and he heard the sounds of a soft scuffle, 
before her head appeared over the top of the chair, blue eyes wide, and a happy 
smile spreading over her thin face. “Oh, gomen ne!” In a heartbeat, her face 
vanished again, and she appeared from around the side of the chair, hurrying 
straight for him. He stood, petrified, as she came to stand before him, reaching 
out to clasp his free hand warmly. “I didn’t mean to be so rude; it’s just that 
I was very into my book; I didn’t recognize your ki at first - I feel like such 
an idiot.” She laughed, warmly, and he was entranced; it rang in his ears like 
bright golden bells.
“Oh, but I’m doing it again - being rude, I mean,” she concluded, shaking her 
head. “I’m being such a chatterbox, and I don’t know why! So ... why are you 
here?” she cocked her head to one side, and he could see worried concern 
creeping into her eyes. “Ojisan - he and Hiei-san are all right, ne?” she asked 
doubtfully, releasing his hands and reaching up to twirl a free lock of her 
black hair around her fingers in a nervous gesture. “You’re not here because of 
them, are you?”
He laughed, a bit self-consciously, rubbing the back of his neck harder. 
“Actually, I am,” he admitted. “Meijin-san and kyoudai-kun need some time to 
themselves.” He coughed, delicately. “Kyoudai doesn’t like sharing his ‘quality 
time’ with Hiei-meijin, so they kicked me out of the house.” He winked at her; 
it was surprisingly easy, now that he was here and talking, to figure out what 
to tell her. Wasn’t love supposed to make you tongue-tied or something?
Kuraihana laughed again, and his mind went blank, babbling a thousand aimless 
things. She bowed her head, shaking it slightly and sending several of the long, 
thin dark locks of hair, some braided, some not, across her thin, pale face. Her 
voice was rich with amusement, rippling with surpressed laughter as she spoke. 
“I would imagine so.” She glanced up at him, and one bright sapphire eye 
twinkled at him from under the dark fringe of her bangs. “Ojisan never was 
interested in sharing his ... ahem ... ‘quality time’ with his lovers.” She 
smiled again, but there was a genuine affection to her teasing. “I’m glad he’s 
finally found one person to settle down with, though,” she told him. “When ... 
when Otousan was alive, he used to pester him about it mercilessly; it was one 
of his goals, I think, to see Kurama-ojisan with someone who made him happy.” 
Suddenly pensive, she shook her head again. “My poor father. He would have been 
so happy, seeing Kurama with Hiei-san.”
He nodded, unable to say anything else. Here was the dumbness he had been 
expecting. “Uh - I’m sorry to hear that -” he began hesitantly. “But - I don’t 
know much about your father. Kurama doesn’t like to talk about him very much.”
“I wouldn’t imagine so,” she murmured quietly, looking back up at him, a serious 
expression in her eyes. “Otousan was Ojisan’s brother in everything but flesh, 
and vice-versa - it’s one of the reasons I call him ‘uncle’ in the first place. 
It’s not easy to talk about someone you love, especially if that someone is 
dead, or missing, or whatever.” She smiled, slightly bitter, and her eyes held 
the gleam of unshed tears.
Awkwardly, he shifted in place, reaching out to grasp her shoulders. “I’m so 
sorry to hear that,” he told her truthfully, his eyes thoughtful. “I - I know 
some of what it’s like, that feeling of loosing someone you care about like 
that. My - you know how my aunt raised me; what happened to her is something I 
would not wish upon anyone.”
He didn’t elaborate. She didn’t ask him to.
Finally, after a few seconds, she shook herself, as if rousing from a nap, and 
smiled up at him, remembered grief pushed away for the moment. “And, let me 
guess - if Ojisan is keeping Hiei-san to himself, Yuusuke-san has the kits to 
worry about, and Kazuma-san has his wedding to plan - that means you need a 
place to stay for a while, ne?” Her eyes were twinkling now, and he smiled in 
return. Her mood was infectious, decidedly playful as any full-blooded 
kitsune’s.
“Hai,” he told her, then adopted a mournful look, almost unconsciously reaching 
out to clasp her hands. “So I don’t suppose you’d take pity on a poor homeless 
youko and give him shelter for a few weeks?”
Despite the laughter in her eyes, her voice was serious as she replied. “Well 
... I don’t know ...” she paused, her eyes raking up and down him closely; he 
could feel his cheeks beginning to heat from her playful appraisal. “My papa 
told me never to let strangers into my house - especially if the stranger was a 
youko ...” she trailed off, eyes wide and innocent. “You wouldn’t throw me onto 
the floor and ravish me, now, would you?” she looked at him with mock-fear. “Oh, 
sir, tell me you won’t -”
He burst out laughing, then, without thought, pulled her in for a warm hug. “If 
I were going to do that, Kuraihana-san,” he assured her, “I would have done that 
the minute I entered your library and saw you reading over there.” He absently 
smoothed a hand down her back, then pulled away, looking down at her with a 
thoughtful frown. “So does that mean I can stay?”
She leaned against him, smiling warmly up at him, blue eyes sparkling. He 
swallowed, nervously, suddenly very aware of her proximity as she answered, 
keeping her words slow and deliberate.
“W-e-l-l ...” she drawled, narrowing one eye teasingly. “I suppose. But only if 
you do your share of the work.” She sniffed indignantly at him. “I’m not going 
to be your slave, you know.”
He laughed. “I don’t expect you to be.”
“Good.” She settled closer, resting her head on his chest. He blinked, 
surprised, but not inclined to argue. In fact - he bundled her closer, 
tightening his grip around her slim body slightly, not enough to hurt her, but 
enough to show his possessiveness. She didn’t seem at all inclined to fight him.
Well. If she didn’t mind this embrace, then he certainly didn’t. He smiled, and 
lay his cheek against her hair.
Yeah. That had been easy.






Kuwabara shifted uncomfortably in place, his hands tightly clasped behind him as 
he stared blankly into the distance. Around him, workers fussed over last-minute 
changes in the decorations, and the caterers scurried about, adding the 
finishing touches to the lavish display of food. Absently, he reached up to 
adjust the tie at his throat, tugging at it until he heard the soft, warning 
hiss of cloth about to rip. His stomach was tied into a thousand knots, but 
somehow, butterflies of nervous tension found their way inside, and were now 
tickling his inwards with their wings in a fluttery, unpleasant tingle.
Behind him, Yuusuke smirked, thoroughly enjoying his friend’s display of nerves; 
Kuwabara looked completely out of place in this little chapel, dressed in a 
crisp black tux, his short-cropped red-orange hair somewhat tamed by gels. Keiko 
and the other girls had decided on a Western-style wedding, complete with the 
works. Yukina had been whisked off the night before, to stay with Yuusuke and 
Keiko, Botan placating Kuwabara by informing him of some superstition that 
dictated the bride and groom were not allowed to see each other, until they met 
at the altar.
Kurama laughed softly, from his place at Yuusuke’s right, his green eyes alight 
with sympathetic amusement as Kuwabara fidgeted and twitched, painfully nervous. 
Despite the eagerness he had displayed, while they had been making plans for 
this, and at the thought that the event would no longer be postponed, it now 
seemed as if the large human was having second thoughts. He went to stand by his 
tall friend, laying a friendly hand on his shoulder, and peering into his face. 
“Nervous, Kuwabara-kun?” he asked lightly.
A swift, jerky nod was his only answer, at first, and then Kuwabara turned to 
stare at him. “Why did I agree to such a big ceremony?” he asked plaintively, 
bringing one large hand up to rub at his face. “How the hell did I allow the 
girls to persuade me into letting it get this fancy?”
“Because they’d never have left you alone, if you hadn’t?” Yuusuke piped up, 
appearing at Kuwabara’s right, grinning like a fiend. “You can’t say no to a 
woman, Kuwabara,” he continued, keeping his voice low, as if to keep his words 
between the three of them. “Especially if they’re as persistent as Keiko and 
Botan are. And, all things considered, this is a small ceremony. Only our 
friends are here; no paparazzi, no bloodthirsty youkai after our heads; just the 
gang and a few others.”
Kuwabara growled something under his breath in response to that, and turned to 
stare up the aisle again, his gaze focused on the altar underneath the 
elaborate, stained-glass window. After a few minutes, he sighed again, then 
turned to Kurama, an eyebrow raised in question. “Oi - where’s your brother? Or, 
for that matter, where’s that bast - I mean, where’s Hiei?”
Kurama’s smile was secret as he bowed his head. Some things never changed, and 
his lover’s rivalry with Kuwabara was one of them. The engagement had only 
seemed to make it worse, as Hiei’s dry comments had become more cutting, and 
Kuwabara’s reactions more violent. Shaking his head a bit, he glanced up at his 
friend, shrugging. “Kyoudai will be along, later. As for Hiei - I’m not quite 
sure; he didn't tell me, but I’m sure he’ll drop by, later.”
The taller human snorted in disgust. “Little bastard,” he muttered, fixing his 
gaze once more on the waiting altar. “This is his sister who’s getting married! 
So where the hell is he?” He crossed his arms over his chest, setting his jaw in 
a scowl. “Doesn’t he care?”
The slender redhead smiled. “He cares,” he assured his friend. “He really does. 
He’s just not used to showing it. Even if you don’t see him, I’ll bet he’s 
lurking around here, somewhere. Give him a little more credit, Kuwabara-kun - he 
wouldn’t miss something this important to Yukina. Even if he doesn’t like you, 
she’s his sister. Don’t worry; he’ll be here.”
“I was actually kind of hoping he wouldn’t be ...” Kuwabara grumbled under his 
breath, but he nodded. “But yeah, you’re right, I guess ...”
Kurama smiled, and clapped his friend on the shoulder, briefly, before going to 
take his spot in one of the front pews, sitting beside his stepbrother and 
folding his hands to rest in his lap. Yo-mawari, if he showed up later, would 
sit in the back, far away from his brother’s human family; though Kurama had 
told Shiori about his true heritage, and his relationship with Hiei, she had 
still not told Kazuya or little Shuuichi; and even so, he was still debating on 
how to tell her about Yo-mawari. It would be less awkward this way.
Yuusuke grinned wolfishly at his friend; though he did feel slightly sorry for 
Kuwabara, he wasn’t going to let that get in the way of his teasing. “Aw, cheer 
up,” he advised dryly. “You’ve been through a lot worse than pledging yourself 
to the girl you love. And don’t worry - you probably won’t trip too much.”
Kuwabara growled. “Urameshi, when you get married, I swear -”
“I’ll ask Kurama to be my best man,” Yuusuke deadpanned, before his grin split 
his face again. “Don’t worry, you idiot!” he snapped cheerfully. “You’ve 
survived worse. You’ll make it through this.”
“So you say,” he grumbled, before snapping to attention as the music began, and 
people settled, voices dying away to whispers, then respectful silence as the 
pianist’s skill was brought to bear. Kuwabara’s back was rigidly straight, and 
sometime during the conversation, he had turned so he was facing the right 
direction, and his eyes bore into the closed door with such a fevered stare that 
Yuusuke half-expected it to burst into flames on the spot.
The door opened, and Kuwabara started, only to relax when Keiko appeared, 
dressed in a pretty, pale blue dress full of frills and ribbons, her 
shoulder-length brown hair tied back in an elaborate braid, with two thin 
tendrils of hair trailing over her shoulders to frame her face. At his side, 
Kuwabara heard Yuusuke make a small, appreciative sound, and would have smiled, 
if the icy hand on his nerves would only ease its grip a little.
Botan was directly behind Keiko, dressed in bright pink, grinning like a fool as 
she dug her free hand into a basket of flower petals (provided by Kurama, as the 
budget would not stretch to florists), tossing them at random on the carpeted 
path. Her blue hair was not up in its customary ponytail; instead, it fell 
loosely down her back, nearly down to her waist, creating a pretty contrast with 
her dress.
And after that ...
Yukina was radiant, her step light and quick; her dress clung to her upper body, 
swaths of nearly translucent, shimmering cloth draped around her, leaving her 
slender shoulders bare, snugly tucked at her waist, then flaring outwards, at 
the hips, her skits elegantly puffed out, and her pale, sea-green hair done up 
in a flamboyant display; a bun at the top of her head, with a ponytail drifting 
from that, wispy locks pulled strategically out to frame her face, along with 
the airy whiteness of her veil. And at her side, his arm firmly hooked with 
hers, walking with her down the flower-strewn aisle, an oddly tender look on is 
usually distant features, was Hiei. He was dressed in his usual black attire, 
though, for some reason, it seemed less ragged; the tank top and pants seemed to 
be in a slightly better condition than what he usually wore, and a single white 
rose gleamed over his heart, the white petals contrasting sharply with his 
clothing.
Kuwabara made a strangled sound, and Yuusuke hid an appreciative smile; he 
wasn’t entirely sure if that choked gasp was because of Yukina’s appearance, or 
the fact that it was Hiei escorting the Koorime girl. Briefly, his bright red 
eyes met Kuwabara’s narrow brown ones in a challenge; for an instant, the human 
shivered, feeling Hiei’s power pressing down around him, plainly warning him 
against making a single protest.
The two youkai came to a stop a foot away from the two humans. Hiei’s eyes were 
pensive as he gave a stiff half-bow to them, before presenting them with his 
beaming sister. As Kuwabara took Yukina’s little hand in his, he heard Hiei’s 
cold whisper; a dark, menacing voice that only he heard -
“Hurt her, and I won’t hesitate to rip your throat out.”
For a moment, time seemed to stop as their eyes met. There was a plain warning 
in the small youkai’s gaze, and Kuwabara met it evenly, then nodded, once.
“I would never hurt her.”
“Not willingly,” Hiei admitted, in a neutral tone; and then things started 
moving again. Yukina turned her small face up to Kuwabara, her smile dazzling. 
He smiled back, feeling utterly lost; he was floating in a place of elation and 
confusion, where colors and black and white blurred, blending into a confused 
jumble.
:It’s called “love”, Kazu,: his sister’s voice came dryly into his mind; he 
glanced sharply out of the corner of his eye, seeing his sister standing there, 
dressed in a plain yellow dress, an unlit cigarette grasped loosely between her 
fingers. She caught his stare, then smiled encouragingly.
He snapped back to attention, turning his face to stare at the impersonal, 
elderly features of the preacher. As the old man began to speak, Kuwabara only 
paid attention to half of what he said, gazing out of the corner of his eye, 
watching his friends and family, surrounding him, smiling and nodding their 
approval. Botan was sniffling, dabbing at her eyes with a ridiculously frilly 
little handkerchief; Keiko’s eyes were bright as well, her hands clasped before 
her; Yuusuke still had that same sardonic smile on his face, and in the pews, 
Kurama had a gentle smile of approval, his eyes bright and happy. Hiei, on the 
other hand, stood in the shadows, an odd expression on his face; something 
between his usual half-smile, and a dark scowl, as if he couldn’t decide whether 
to be happy or upset about this wedding.
:Kazu, pay attention to what you’re doing,: his sister’s voice came again, 
mildly scolding. He snapped his attention back to the low stream of steady 
words, just in time to hear the preacher’s question - “Is this the woman that 
you desire for your wife; and do you promise to be utterly faithful to her, to 
protect her and support her in times of need, and be forever hers, until and 
beyond when death leads you to the next world?”
He was gratified to hear his voice was strong as he answered, though a small 
part of him was snickering at the last line - if only he *knew* the identity of 
the sniffling blue-haired girl in the bright pink dress ... “I do. Forever and 
always.”
The preacher turned, asking the same questions of Yukina; her small hand 
tightened its grasp on his, as she answered, her small voice clear and light and 
steady, unwavering as she voiced her agreement. “I do. Forever and always.”
As the preacher pronounced them wed, and encouraged Kuwabara to kiss his bride, 
the human hesitated, just for a heartbeat, his eyes seeking out Hiei’s small, 
dark shape.
The little youkai stood in the very back of the church, a vicious scowl on his 
face, though his red eyes were gentle; that much he could tell, even as far away 
as they were. At his side, Kurama stood, having somehow made his way out of the 
pews without disturbing anyone, one of the youko’s slender hands resting almost 
possessively on the little youkai’s shoulder. There was a bright smile on the 
redhead’s face as he winked, then silently mouthed the words, “Go on.”
He nodded, almost imperceptibly, then bent, mindful of the great differences in 
their height, and lightly kissed his new wife, accompanied by the ecstatic 
cheers of those around them.






Kurama looked down at his lover, and smiled, his eyes gentle, conveying his 
understanding as he took in the torn look in Hiei’s face and eyes. He knew what 
his lover was feeling - he had gone through the same twisting emotions when 
Shiori had remarried; his claims on his mother’s time and attention were no 
longer top priority for her; no longer was he exclusively the first person in 
her life and confidences.
Though Hiei’s relationship with his sister was nothing like what Kurama had with 
his mother, he could understand some of it, and he tightened his grip on the 
small youkai’s shoulder, silently urging his lover to look up. When he did, 
Kurama bent close, his mouth next to Hiei’s ear, as he whispered, his words 
nearly lost in the encouraging shouts around them, “It’s all right. No matter 
what it seems like now, you’re not any less important to her. What she has with 
Kuwabara-kun is ... is like what you and I have.” He pulled back, regarding his 
lover with a solemn gaze, meeting Hiei’s equally serious red eyes evenly. 
“She’ll be a bit distracted, the first few weeks, but afterwards, she’ll always 
be there for you. Never doubt that.”
“So sure, are you,” Yo-mawari’s low voice cut in, and Kurama looked up, 
startled, then smiled at his brother. The dark-haired twin sidled to stand close 
to them, a tolerant smile on his face. “I suppose you’re speaking from 
experience, here - ?”
“Hai,” Kurama replied, straightening and brushing a few strands of red hair from 
his eyes. “It was like this when Kuronue was handfasted. And then it happened 
again, when ’Kaasan married ’Tousan. I’ve dealt with this before - and I’ll 
probably do it again, when you admit you’re going to propose to Chibi-Hana, one 
of these days.” His smile turned wicked as Yo-mawari sputtered, backing up a few 
steps and holding up his hands in an almost protective gesture.
Hiei just turned and watched his sister’s radiant face as she and Kuwabara 
walked quickly down the aisles, ducking the few handfuls of tossed dry rice, and 
sighed.






Two days later, Hiei stood on an open balcony, staring into the starry night, 
his face expressionless, except for the pensive expression in his eyes. One 
small hand gripped the railing, unconsciously tightening when the doors behind 
him opened, and he heard soft footsteps padding behind him, ending when two 
warm, slender arms slid around his neck and down his chest, hands splaying 
against his stomach and chest. He gave a small grunt of greeting, then continued 
to watch the stars.
Kurama’s voice was low and husky in his ear, raising the hairs on the back of 
his neck as the warm breath whispered past his ear, a mild counterpoint to the 
chill caress of the nighttime wind. “What are you thinking of, Hiei-koi?”
“Don’t call me that,” he almost whispered in reply, shrugging a little in his 
lover’s embrace. “And I wasn’t thinking of anything.”
“Yes, you were,” the voice insisted, and one hand came up to trace down the side 
of his face in a playful manner. “You’ve got that ‘I’m brooding about something 
important, so heaven and hell help whoever’s stupid enough to disturb me’ look 
on your face.” There was definite amusement in Kurama’s voice, and, annoyed, 
Hiei wriggled out of the embrace.
“So why are you bothering me, then?” he growled, never taking his eyes from the 
stars.
“Because I’m stupid,” Kurama replied dryly, pulling him back into that same 
enveloping hold. He felt the youko’s chin settle atop his head, staring at the 
sky, watching as a shooting star streaked across, leaving a brilliant, plumed 
tail of fiery white that trailed across the velvet blue sky, drowning out the 
light of a few of the weaker stars.
“Look, Hiei,” Kurama murmured, by his ear. “Aren't shooting stars supposed to be 
bad luck?”
He grumbled some inarticulate reply, but Kurama continued, unwavering. “But, you 
know, Americans think they’re *good* luck. They’re so odd, ne? They think that 
making wishes on shooting stars will come true.” He felt the slender chest 
against his back heave, as the redhead gave a small sigh. “What would you wish, 
Hiei?”
He didn’t answer that; he didn’t think Kurama expected him to. After a few 
moments of silence, Kurama pulled away, and for a few moments, he felt the chill 
that accompanied the absence of another’s warmth against him, before his 
naturally high temperature took over, warming him again. Kurama’s soft footsteps 
started to shuffle towards the door, and he turned, reaching out and catching 
his lover’s arm in his grasp, in a silent request to stop.
The youko acquiesced with the command, turning to look back at him, his 
expression soft and unguarded, one eyebrow lifted in question. “Hiei - ?”
Hiei pulled, until Kurama was facing him again, then tugged down, taking 
Kurama’s elegant face into his hands and staring directly into the wide green 
eyes.
For a moment, they stayed like that, and then, Hiei leaned forward, abruptly 
placing a light kiss on his beloved’s cheek, then releasing him, and pushing him 
towards the door. “Go to bed. I’ll come in later.”
There was a surprised expression on Kurama’s face as the redhead straightened, 
one slender hand coming up to touch the place where the contact had been made. 
It was so unlike Hiei, to give even such a small display of affection, and he, 
concerned, touched his lover’s elbow. “Are you all right - ?”
“I’m fine, fox,” he snapped, turning back to the starry sky. “Go to bed.”
He heard a confused mumble from behind, then the sound of the door opening and 
closing. He closed his eyes and tilted his face back to the sky, sighing 
slightly, then opened his eyes, staring at the place where the shooting star had 
begun.
I wish ...
I wish for a long and happy life for that stupid fox, he whispered to himself, 
setting his jaw in a determined frown. It’s the least he deserves.
Then, he released the railing, and went inside, heading for the bedroom, and to 
his lover’s waiting arms.