After much internal debate and no small amount of threats from my loyal readers, here I am beginning this again. I cannot, in good conscience, continue when I am so unhappy with a storyline, better to begin anew and hope the revision retains some of the magic of the original. To those of you who read the original and have been waiting far too long for this, I thank you. To those who are new, let me welcome you. Pull up a seat, get a refreshment, and make yourselves comfortable. This is the revision of the fic Changing Circumstances, published under the name Kit3.
This is dedicated to everyone who stuck with me and continued to encourage me even when it had been months between updates and I was seriously considering giving up.
Warnings: Pretty standard stuff really. This contains yaoi. I own nothing. There may be strong language, violence, and adult situations. Remember this key phrase while you read: creative license. 'Nuff said.
Changing Circumstances
Chapter One
Again
Students treaded warily in the path of the one they feared. The sight of the average-sized, dark haired boy often caused larger and more muscular teens to quake with fear, and even the most experienced of teachers were forced to consider an early retirement when his name appeared on their class rosters.
He was the subject of many a lunchtime conversation, gossip being the insatiable mistress it was wont to be. If water coolers and buffet lines could talk, they could chronicle the entire story of his life, as far as anyone knew it.
With a face like an angel, he was the terror of the community. (And hadn't he died? Why did his mother have a funeral for him when he was obviously still so…healthy, some asked. Well, others shrugged, his mother is a wanton drunk – so is it any wonder she would mistake her sleeping son for a corpse?)
The scandal of the neighborhood. What had once been a respectable home had, in the short span of time since the death of the boy's father (or had the man left? Who could be bothered to remember, really, when the circumstances that had left Atsuko Urameshi to raise her young son alone were so much less interesting than the rest of the gossip surrounding that family?) become the run-down, filthy home of a whore and her delinquent son. (Or was the boy a bastard, some wondered. Had he even had a father to begin with?)
A person is smart. People are idiots. Someone said that once, or something very like it. The easily impressed and far too nosy people of the community the Urameshi's called home took great pleasure in telling each other of what they had heard of 'that woman's' latest party and could entertain themselves for hours with tales of who the boy had robbed or beaten up or otherwise terrorized. The students who attended class with the boy, just as intelligent as their parents, derived immeasurable delight from whispering to each other about him. What class he had missed, what teacher he had pissed off, what girl he had toyed with the emotions of.
Scandalous.
Did they think themselves experts on his life, the boy often wondered upon accidentally catching a gossip-party in progress.
If they knew, or even suspected, half of the truth of his life, he wagered not only would they be too afraid to ever speak of him again, but they would have to spend thousands of dollars in therapy. Their therapists, may, in turn, need therapy.
For a moment he entertained himself with the mental image his entire neighborhood being carted off by men in white coats for spreading mad stories about his life.
Yusuke shook his head, unable to stop the small, amused grin spreading itself across his face. A cool wind picked up and he shoved his hands into the large pockets of his threadbare pants and ducked his head, refusing to shiver. It was early November. Too early for shivering.
Derisively, he shuffled his feet, kicking an abandoned soda can and sending it flying into a neighbor's perfectly trim lawn.
His own lawn was overgrown, brown no matter what the season, and possessing many a leafless tree and bush. The only flowers the flowerbeds had seen in years were dandelions.
The grass crunched under his feet as he walked across the lawn, keeping his eyes on his feet. There was a large hole in his right tennis shoe, and his big toe stuck out. He didn't look up at his house as he entered the dwelling; he knew what he would see. Broken windows, a battered screen door hanging off its hinges, peeling paint. Depressing. He had been ignoring it for years.
"Issat you, sweetheart?"
Rolling his eyes, Yusuke toed off his shoes in the entrance hallway, running a hand through his hair and feeling the familiar crunch caused by the gel that swept the thick black mass off his forehead.
"Yeah, it's me," He called.
He found his mother in the living room, sprawled across the sofa in a pair of tight jeans and a red something he gravely hoped was a top, not a bra. He muffled a groan at the sight of her tangled hair and bloodshot eyes. The scent of alcohol and something that was most certainly not cigarette smoke was heavy in the air, as if the pile of bottles on the floor was not enough hint for him.
"Been having a little party, ma?" He asked with a cool sigh.
She sat sup, swaying a little, and squinted her eyes as she peered at him.
"Aren't you s'ppossed t' be in school?" She slurred.
He shrugged out of his uniform jacket and tossed it over the back of a chair, glaring at the mess scattered over his living room. "What do you care, anyway?" He mumbled, picking up a pair of lacy black panties and stuffing them into a bag of fly-infested Chinese take out that had to be at least a month old. Something squished under his foot and he looked down to see the remains of a half-eaten twinkie. "God, ma! Can't you even…? Damn it!"
"Don't talk to your mother that way, Yusuke." She scolded, struggling to sit up. "Now, listen. Mommy needs to you go to the store for her, okay?"
"Why don't you sober up and do your own damn chores?" He demanded, lip curling as he kicked a pile of cans and sent at least a dozen roaches scuttling for a new dark hiding place.
"Now, don't be difficult." She rolled off the couch and landed on the floor with a giggle. "Mommy needs her ciggies, baby. And alcohol. Some munchies…"
"Having friends over again?" He asked dryly, sitting atop a pile of old newspapers and trying to decide if it was worth the effort to try to clean up when he knew she would only have it trashed within a few hours.
"Oh!" She gasped. "And I need condoms. Can you buy mommy some condoms, sweety? We don't want any mistakes, do we?" She laughed, swaying. "Y'see? 'S like I always tell you, safety first." She swaggered to her feet, still giggling, and pulled out a thin roll of bills that had been nestled in her cleavage. "You can use this."
"And what about dinner, mom?" He demanded, snatching the money away from her and counting it quickly. There was barely enough for a six-pack, much less everything else on her "list."
She sniffed, for a moment looking lost.
"How often do you need to eat, honey?" She asked finally, real confusion on her face. "You're young, you're strong. You don't need food every day, do you?"
Jaw clenched, Yusuke nearly had to physically restrain himself to keep from throwing something at her. "Mom!"
"Please, Yusuke? Be a good boy for mommy. Mommy needs her groceries." She lost her footing and fell to the ground once more, this time with a sob. "Why can't you be a good, dutiful boy?" She demanded angrily. "Why do you have to be so horrible to me?"
Yusuke grabbed up his jacket and stormed away, barely remembering to slip on his shoes before leaving. He was furious, but unsure as to where to direct that fury. At his mother, for being the way she was? At himself, for being unable to change her?
He had tried, when he was younger, to take care of her. He had bought vegetables instead of booze and prayed she wouldn't notice. He had cleaned up every room of the house after she trashed them and held back her hair while she threw up. He had begged and begged for her to stop. If she loved him, she would stop. If she cared anything about him at all, she would cease her destructive behavior and be his mother again.
But she never stopped.
He was old enough now to know that it was nothing more than her weakness, that she could not fight her many addictions. Yet there was still the child somewhere within him who took each night when he went to bed cold and hungry personally. A part of him still believed she did not love him enough to stop.
A part of him would always believe that.
He had learned to fight by standing up to the boyfriends who beat her, learned to take care of himself by fighting off the boyfriends who were more interested in her pretty son than in his mother. The person he had become was the direct result of the life her had led and sometimes he could be grateful for the strength he had gained from it.
By the age of thirteen, the boy had finally given up on his dream of "curing" her and having his life back. There would never again be the quiet talks at the dinner table or the stories before bed, nestled snugly under the soft, cool sheets. He would never again drift into sleep feeling safe and loved and…
Yusuke had begun spending his nights in the streets when it was warm enough, just to get away from that house. He had joined a gang, gained control of that gang. They had been his family until he had been arrested, then they abandoned him, too.
When the time came for him to enter high school, Yusuke had made it his task to earn for himself a reputation as the baddest kid in the district.
In a way, dying had been a blessing.
He should have stayed dead.
But his mothered had sobered, for a time, when he was dead. She had cried for him. He had foolishly thought that meant that she loved him, and had returned to life, the child buried deep within him risking everything to hope again.
What an idiot he had been.
Yusuke scowled and banished the thought, hunching his shoulders against the steadily-cooling air. He wandered the streets until night fell, carefully keeping his mind blank, distanced both from the cold and his inner turmoil. At last he slipped into a convenience store and shoplifted the items on his mother's "grocery list," hardly caring if he got caught or not. At least it would be warm in jail.
The party was already well underway as he returned home, and his mother refused to allow him back into the house without the "secret password."
"Just throw it up!" She laughed, hanging out a second story window.
Yusuke dumped it all on the sidewalk, turned, and left the way he had come.
There was a park he liked in one of the nicer neighborhoods, and he found himself heading there. He would get strange looks, and might have the police called on him, but at least if he slept there he would have less of a chance of waking up to find himself missing a kidney.
Upon reaching the park, he chose for himself a bench in one of the more secluded areas and lay down. Thunder crashed overhead just as he was closing his eyes.
With a loud oath, Yusuke sat up and pulled off his jacket. He only just managed to cover his head before the rain began to fall, fat, cold droplets striking him like icy needles. Yusuke lay back down and closed his eyes, trying to ignore it by focusing on the hot breakfast he could buy in the morning with his mother's money. If he was careful with the money, he might even have enough change left over for a vending-machine lunch. How long had it been since he had eaten a good meal? Or more than one meal in the space of a day?
Abruptly, a hand grabbed his jacket, snatching it away from his face, and Yusuke sat up quickly.
"Damn it, you bastard, give that back!"
Lightening flashed, momentarily revealing an elegant, pointed face, glittering emerald eyes, and long, gleaming red hair.
Kurama stood under a wide blue umbrella, every inch of his neat, pristine form dry. For once, his habitual knowing half-smile was gone, replaced by a slight frown.
"Yusuke?" He asked, voice filled with soft surprise. "Whatever are you doing out here?"
Yusuke snatched his jacket out of Kurama's hand and shrugged it on. Already soaked, it failed to offer either protection or warmth. "I'm sleeping, what the hell does it look like I'm doing?" He snapped.
Kurama's frown deepened, eyebrows knitting together. "My dear, you're shivering!"
He was shivering.
"No I'm not." He lied, barely able to speak past the clattering of his teeth. He forced a laugh. "Anyway, it's not like a little rain is going to hurt me. I needed a bath, anyway."
Kurama only stared at him.
"Well…goodnight, then." Yusuke said awkwardly, wishing the damned fox would just leave already. He was embarrassed enough as it was. He stared at the unmoving Kurama a moment longer before lying back down.
A long-fingered hand closed around his arm, pulling him back up.
"Hey! Damn it! Leave me alone!"
"Come along," Kurama sighed, refusing to meet his eyes. "I am not about to leave you out in this mess." His voice was cool, disinterested, as he pulled the wet human boy under his umbrella. Yusuke's shivering had become more violent once he was standing, but it stopped a little when Kurama put his arm around him and pulled him to his side, safe under the umbrella's protection as they began to walk.
Yusuke clenched his teeth tight to keep them from chattering, involuntarily moving closer to the warm body. "You're getting wet." He protested half heartedly, making no attempt to pull away.
"My car is this way."
"I didn't know demons could drive."
He heard Kurama give a small half-laugh.
They were completely silent on their way to the parking lot. Kurama led him to a small, zippy sports car and held the door open for him, waiting for him to slide into the passenger seat without the slightest hint of apprehension over the damage the wet boy could cause to the upholstery. Yusuke couldn't summon the energy to care, anyway. It didn't matter. Neither did it matter where the youko planned to take him, or whether or not he was a good driver.
"Why were you attempting to sleep in the park, of all places?" Kurama asked quietly as he out of the parking lot.
Yusuke shrugged uncomfortably. "Just needed some air, that's all." He mumbled. "Mom was having a party and I didn't feel like…hell, I don't owe you an explanation."
"Are you hungry?"
"What?" The question startled him and he found himself shrugging again. He felt very small and dirty sitting next to the elegant fox in the warm car. "Oh…I dunno." He pulled out the money his mother had given him and counted it again, but the amount hadn't changed. "I was kind of going to save this for tomorrow."
Kurama glanced at him, frowning. They passed a few moments in silence before Kurama pulled into a parking lot and turned off the car. "Wait until I come around the other side with the umbrella." He ordered quietly.
Yusuke shrugged - what did he care? He was already cold and wet; if Kurama wanted go to all the trouble of feeding him, who was he to try to stop him? After a few moments his door opened and Kurama offered him a pale, manicured hand.
Yusuke was more than glad when they entered the restaurant - he was colder than he'd realized, even after being in Kurama's car with the heater blowing full-blast. Kurama closed him umbrella and set it in a corner, turning to the hostess with a small half-smile.
"Table for two, non-smoking, please." He requested coolly, a hand on Yusuke's elbow.
"So why were you out walking around in the park in the rain?" Yusuke asked around a huge bite of hamburger, hardly caring that he had dripped ketchup and mustard all down the front of his jacket and was making quite a pig of himself. He was hungry, and there was no way he would ever match Kurama's elegance or dignity anyway, so why bother?"
Kurama, content with a garden salad and a tall glass of iced tea, gave him a slight, detached smile, watching his every bite as if afraid the dark haired boy would balk at the meal. "I always go for a walk at this time of day." He answered quietly, eyes warm. "It is a very calming exercise, one of which I have come very much to depend on."
"Guess you need it to get away from Hiei for a little while, huh?" He asked with a grin.
Kurama gave a small laugh, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.
Yusuke took large gulp from his coke and picked it up, rattling the ice at the waitress. "Yoo hoo, a little more?" he requested, trying not to notice the way Kurama was watching him – as if trying to dissect him.
"I do not think you should return to your home tonight, Yusuke." The fox said at last, voice cool and quiet. He smiled a little, a trace of amusement in his eyes. "Or the park, either."
"Park's not so bad." He shrugged. "But you're right about home. I'd probably have some cross-dresser hit on me or something there."
Kurama laced his fingers together under his chin, smile growing the slightest bit.
"I do not think you should return home at all, actually." He decided after a few moments of silence. There were few people in the restaurant, and his voice was so quiet, that there seemed to be a certain degree of intimacy to their conversation. It made Yusuke uncomfortable, but at the same time he felt his heartbeat pick up just the slightest bit.
"No?" Yusuke countered, trying a cheerful laugh. "Should I live in the park then? Will you come take me out to dinner every time it rains?" He shook his head, hoping to appear lighthearted. "I've got a bad life, Kurama, it's no big deal. I'm used to it."
"But you don't have to, Yusuke."
"You mean like get a job and support myself? I tried that once, it didn't work out…the…spirit stuff got in the way."
"No, I don't suppose that kind of thing would work." He mused, toying with a strand of smooth, gleaming hair. Seeming to come to some kind of decision, he nodded and tossed his hair over his shoulder. "No, I think you should come to live with Hiei and I." He thought about it a moment longer before giving another decisive nod. "Yes, that is exactly what you will do."
"You can just decide like that? I don't get any say in it?"
"You wish to argue?"
Yusuke scowled at him. "I don't like charity, Kurama."
"It isn't charity." The fox actually looked insulted, eyes suddenly very large in his pale, perfect face.
"Then what do you call it?"
"Yusuke…" He seemed shocked that he would even suggest it. "You have done so much for us, for me. How can I not wish to help you? How is it possible that you do not deserve a better situation than that which you have?"
Yusuke stared at him a long moment, stunned by the uncharacteristic passion in his words. Finally he gave a small laugh.
"How did you get to be so manipulative, Kurama?"
He smiled placidly, eyes kindling like bright green flames. Yusuke didn't understand the look in those eyes, and wasn't certain he wanted to.
"Practice, my dear." The fox answered finally.
Yusuke stuffed fries into his mouth, thinking. No one had ever offered to take care of him before, no one had even tried. It would be nice to sleep in a real bed, rather than a lumpy mattress on the floor that smelt like cat piss. And he liked Kurama. He respected and trusted the other boy.
"Won't Hiei mind?"
Kurama smiled and it was a smile unlike Yusuke had ever seen from him. Knowing and confident and happy. "Allow me to take care of Hiei." He purred.
"But I don't have any of my things."
"I will take care of that as well."
Still he hesitated.
"What is there to lose? If things do not work out, you can always leave." Kurama said logically, leaning forward. There was something in his eyes, something deep and dark and secret. Yusuke shivered, not quite willing to contemplate what that look meant, nor why the conversation seemed so very private. Almost as if having it in a public place was somehow inappropriate.
Uncomfortable, Yusuke took a long sip from his drink and tried to think. Finally he found himself grinning. He couldn't help it.
"You aren't going to let this go, are you?"
The fox smiled, a slow, quiet gesture that somehow made his entire face light up. "I do not plan on allowing you to leave this restaurant until you have agreed, no."
"Kurama…"
"Come now, don't be so difficult!" He reached across the table and grasped Yusuke's hand, eyes continuing to hold that strange, burning intensity. "You risk offending me, you know." He informed him warmly.
"Heaven knows I don't want that…"
"Yusuke?"
He looked at him and, abruptly, laughed. "Alright." He agreed reluctantly. "But only because I don't want to hurt your feelings."
Kurama smiled, the slow, sensual curving of his lips.
"Of course, my dear." He agreed.
To Be Continued
All right, what do you think? Better than the original? The same? Worse? Tell me what you think, now, don't be shy. And remember, the more response I receive, the more apt I am to continue to update.
I am aware that the content of this chapter is very similar to the original. I even pulled a few paragraphs from the original. This is, however, two pages longer, and in my opinion, much better written. The purpose of a revision is to fix problems, not change the story completely.
Once again, thanks to everyone for reading, and big thanks to those who read the original. I was going to include response to all the reviews/suggestions sent my way, but there are too many. Thanks everyone for taking the time to help me out. If you think of anything else, let me know.
Lots of love,
Kit