Disclaimer: YuYu Hakusho belongs to Yoshihiro Togashi
Xenos
Kuwabara could not figure out why he was snuggling his head under his pillow and blankets in a dark room.
Well, he had realized he was sleeping, and it was dark because it wasn't morning yet—he wasn't that stupid—but he always woke to Shizuru dragging him out of bed for school and the sun streaming around the blinds on his windows. So the situation really didn't make any sense at all.
But since it wasn't morning, he realized, the why could not possibly be very important. He closed his eyes to go back to sleep.
His cell phone rang loudly, vibrating and buzzing on his desk. Tugging the blankets over his ears, he decided that might be "why."
He waited until it stopped and sighed blissfully in relief, until the ringing started again.
Damnit.
Still muddled with sleep, his brain slowly recognized that whoever was calling at such an ungodly hour obviously had a very important reason to do so, and would continue calling back until Kuwabara got up and answered it. Rolling out of bed and slapping his hand across the surface of the desk until he located it, he felt it distinctly unfair that whoever was calling was on the other end of the phone where he could not strangle them.
Flipping the phone open, he managed an intelligible response. "'Lo?"
"Hello. Is this Kuwabara?"
He was sure he could hear the kitchen lights humming in the dead silence between them.
In the center of the table lay an innocuous little notepad, the kind with the adhesive strip on the back, the sort of thing someone practical like Kurama would have lying by the phone. "Call Kuwabara" was scrawled across the paper in Kurama's clear handwriting, followed by a number. That last bit had been written down unnecessarily—the fox had always been good at memorizing things like phone numbers—but Kuwabara had been so proud of his new cell phone that he still tended to rattle it off at the end of messages regardless. And at the time he had called, he'd been dashing off to class, so he hadn't given it a second thought. Kurama apparently hadn't either, for he had seemed equally distracted on the other end of the line and was probably conditioned to write down whatever was recited in a phone message.
Now, though, it seemed more like a premonition.
"Explain to me why I have this note to call you. I've checked; unless it's been forged, this is my own handwriting."
Kuwabara had the distinct impression of ice being dumped down the back of his shirt. It might have been that foreboding, niggling feeling from his sixth sense, or it might have been the frozen tones of the other's voice.
Kurama sat across the table from him, his face fixed into a cold, unyielding stare. The same one, Kuwabara remembered, as he had worn in that hellish and unmerciful training session in the days before the Dark Tournament. It was not exactly encouraging.
When the fox's hand had tightened on the door as Kuwabara greeted him, he had assumed it was merely stress. But this promised to be much worse… he could not remember Kurama ever treating him as stiffly as he had when he prodded Kuwabara to the kitchen. It had almost looked like he had been restraining himself from something.
"I just wanted to finish making our plans for this weekend," he replied meekly. Kurama certainly hadn't sounded pissed when he had called that afternoon. Or rather, yesterday afternoon, considering the hour.
"You're human." The statement was matter-of-fact, and almost… disgusted? Condescending?
Wait, Kurama had just now realized this? And they had called Kuwabara slow on the uptake. Something was definitely not adding up in any way, shape, or form.
His arms were folded on the table, the strangely calm tenseness of his posture mirrored in his voice. He elaborated coolly, "I would not have taken a human on as a partner in any venture. Is this a trap? You've failed miserably in gaining the upper hand."
Kuwabara slowly began to understand that this was not the Kurama he knew. Kurama had never had such icy eyes—or maybe they had never seemed cold because his face had always been so warm. But this person he had caught glimpses of a few times, long ago.
And he had spoken so oddly over the phone…
"Hello. Is this Kuwabara?"
"Yeah… K'rama? That you?"
Hesitation from the other end, though the sleepy Kuwabara had missed it completely. "Yes."
"Are you alright?" The voice had sparked a memory; he had been expecting Kurama to call tonight, although he had assumed it would have been before bed. "I was kinda worried when you didn't call back. Did work get hectic?"
Another carefully evaluated pause. Kuwabara took the opportunity to rub some of the sleep from his eyes and glance at the clock. "Yes. You remember where I live, right? Can you meet me there?"
"Sure. But, hey, is everything okay? You sound fine, but you of all people wouldn't call me after two in the morning unless there's an emergency."
"I'll be waiting." The call was cut off before Kuwabara could demand that the fox hadn't answered his question.
He couldn't tell what was going through Kurama's mind at the moment, but he had to make sure. "Why are you acting like Youko?"
He visibly stiffened. As if ashamed of the display, he lowered his head, hiding green eyes behind his bangs. "Is there a reason I shouldn't?" he murmured.
The possibilities of why he might have said such a thing revealed more than anything he had said all evening. It was like Kurama was searching blindly for his own answers, and realized he had to sacrifice to get ahead in the game of give-and-take.
The ice-cold feeling trailing down Kuwabara's spine increased. Although he wanted to just leave, to come back in the morning and find he had dreamed it all up and Kurama was completely normal, he forged ahead anyway.
"What about Minamino Shuuichi?"
Usually Kurama's house was spotless when he had company over, but the shoes in the entrance hall hadn't been straightened, and the kitchen showed the same disarray. He must have been really busy and leaving the house right when Kuwabara had called. He stared at the dishes in the sink, the bag of chips still sitting out on the counter, anything but Kurama. He could imagine the fox's mind working furiously behind that pale face, coming to the same realizations as the other boy that nothing was adding up right.
"Are you my partner in a heist?"
Kuwabara made the mistake of looking back. Although Kurama's voice had been quiet and perfectly calm, his eyes were intense. Having that carefully controlled hostility directed at him was not a situation he ever wanted to experience again, especially not so early in the morning. He had never been so suddenly, painfully aware that Kurama's kitchen chairs were wood, as in trees, and might be inclined to eat him or something.
He swallowed uncomfortably. "Look, Kurama, you haven't stolen stuff for as long as I've known you. And we haven't even worked together as detectives in years. What're you talking about?" That cold feeling again. He tried his best not to visibly shiver, murmuring seriously, "What's wrong?"
But Kurama was ignoring him again as he had been earlier, his face unreadable. He leaned his chin on his palm, lost in thought, staring out the window into the early morning darkness.
Kuwabara leaned back uncomfortably in his own chair. There was a niggling little thought he didn't like to admit, squirming persistently around in the back of his mind. Kurama was his friend, and he didn't like to consider this thing. But his being stupid, he resigned himself, would only harm the fox in the long run.
So he allowed himself to realize, with a numb sort of horror, that Kurama obviously had no idea who Kuwabara was. He knew his name, yes—but only because it had been written on the note, and Kuwabara had answered the phone and flat-out said he was. And to make matters worse, Kurama might not even remember himself.
Where had the fox gone that afternoon while he was in class?
And more pressingly… "Kurama, what's the last thing you remember?"
"Don't you have class right now?" Yuusuke set the ramen in front of him, raising an eyebrow curiously. "I mean, whenever I call you to goof off right about now, you're always busy."
"I'm justified," Kuwabara muttered sullenly. Considering the night he'd had, not even Shizuru could have made him go. And it was Kurama's fault that he'd woken up in the middle of what should have been his first class period, slumped out in the hallway against the fox's apartment door.
The shorter boy watched the curls of steam drifting up from the ramen for a moment, then glanced around at the few other patrons still finishing their meals after the lunch rush. "You look tired. Guessing it's not an all-nighter, 'cause you're skipping… so, something eventful happen?"
Kuwabara finished chewing his mouthful before replying, "You could say that."
"We're not too busy right now, and I haven't taken my lunch break yet today," he offered. Kuwabara hooked his foot around the rungs of the chair beside him and tugged it away from the counter in response.
"Yo, I'm taking my lunch now!" Yuusuke called toward the kitchen, waiting for a response from the Yukimuras before shrugging out of his apron. He slung it over the back of the chair and sat. "So? What's up?"
"Kurama called me really late last night."
"Kuwabara," he interrupted, "having kinky phone sex all night long is no excuse for someone like you to skip school."
He exploded, "It's not like that, idiot!" before getting his temper under control; he'd been a bit more tired and stressed than he had thought. He rubbed a hand over his face before running his fingers through his hair. "Something's wrong with Kurama. He was really messed up when I went over there."
Yuusuke frowned at that. While it had been ages since he had last gone to personally visit the fox, it didn't mean he did not worry about him.
"He wanted to know if I was his partner in some heist that had gone horribly wrong."
"No kidding? It took him that long to realize hanging out with you is a nightmare?" he asked wryly.
"I'm serious. I'm pretty sure he thinks he's Youko Kurama."
He sighed exasperatedly. "Kuwabara, he is Youko Kurama. Or was. Whatever. But your story isn't making any sense. What's your point?"
"Kurama's lost his mind and I don't think he remembers dying or becoming human."
Yuusuke's hand paused halfway to grabbing a bite off Kuwabara's plate. "That… is the stupidest thing I've ever heard! Did you seriously dream this up in the middle of the night?"
One of the other customers glanced their way, and Kuwabara lowered his voice. "I wanted to remind him to call me yesterday, but he was really busy at the time, so he wrote down a note for later. He didn't call me back until about two in the morning, and he was acting really weird and just told me to come over to his place."
"When isn't he acting all weird and cryptic?"
Kuwabara shook his head and ignored the other boy, returning to his ramen. After a few bites, he continued, "I don't think he recognized me when I got there, and he was acting all pissed because I was human. And he's never had issues like the shrimp before, right? But then he wanted to know why he had the note, like he didn't remember writing it down, and he wanted to know if I was his partner, even though he didn't believe it was possible."
"Probably the stress getting to him."
"Look, if you're gonna be a repressive little bastard and pretend like you don't give a damn about Kurama, then just shut up and stop interrupting me." He returned to his lunch while Yuusuke pondered that.
The shorter boy shifted in his chair, returning the wave of one of the patrons going out the door. He caught his apron as it slid away and draped it over the chair beside him. Slurping his noodles, Kuwabara ignored him as easily as if he'd been alone in the restaurant.
Tired of just watching him eat, Yuusuke gave in, "Yeah, yeah, I'm done being an ass whenever you're ready to continue."
"He wouldn't talk to me the rest of the time." Kuwabara stirred the chopsticks in his bowl meditatively. "But with Kurama, it's kinda like it's more important what he didn't say—because I know he would've stopped and corrected me if I'd said something stupid. But… he didn't say anything."
He shook his head, then continued, "I don't think he remembers dying or anything after that. He must've thought it was a heist because he probably didn't have any other reason to go to human world. He expected a trap or something when he found out I wasn't a demon, and therefore probably not a partner waiting for a call about how the heist went. He totally didn't trust me, though." Kuwabara frowned, stretching his stiff shoulders as he recalled, "He wouldn't talk and just had a staring match with me until I must've fallen asleep, and then he dumped me out of his apartment into the hallway."
Yuusuke couldn't suppress a smirk at the image that brought to mind.
"Damnit, I don't see why he couldn't have had your number lying around, Urameshi," he glared.
The other boy sobered, realizing Kuwabara truly was serious. The implications weren't good. A very wary Youko Kurama, stranded in human world with no idea why he was there—or why he was human, and God but that couldn't have gone over well at all—and with no one he would trust to turn to. "Don't take it personally, idiot. I bet he was just freaked out about the whole thing. He'll be calmer tonight, I'm sure."
"Tonight?"
Yuusuke took advantage of his distraction to make off with another bit of his lunch. "Duh, when I get off work later, we're going over to check on him. That way," he reasoned, "when it turns out to be some big fluke, we can both have a good laugh in your face."
Kuwabara glowered at him, but inwardly he was grateful he didn't have to face Kurama alone again. Kurama was Kurama, and Kurama was his friend, but Youko Kurama was something he'd never quite grasped completely. As much as he hated being proven an idiot, he found himself hoping it really had all been a dumb mistake.
By all accounts, it seemed that Kurama had not left his room for days, not since the night he had called Kuwabara.
Of course, neither of the boys doubted that the fox could escape without being seen if he'd wished, but he didn't appear inclined to do so. They had made a habit of visiting each day, sitting outside the door and cajoling and arguing with Kurama. For the most part he ignored them, but sometimes in the silence they could hear his quiet breathing on the other side of the door, though he never spoke.
The fact that he had stayed and tolerated their presence encouraged them. Although, Yuusuke had pointed out, he probably didn't realize the barrier between human and demon world had been taken down, and hadn't bothered to check, instead sulking in the apartment in depression.
"So do you think he's gonna be okay?" Kuwabara had stretched his legs out again, taking up most of the width of the hall. That woman hadn't been the first to give them dirty looks for blocking the path—even though they had kindly scrunched up for whoever was coming. They had been far too used to such looks to let it bother them, but he'd still waited until she was out of hearing range to speak again, for Kurama's reputation if nothing else.
"I mean, he hasn't come out of there once since this whole thing started," he had continued. "What's he gonna do if there's an emergency or something, or he runs outta food, or he can't find something he needs?"
Yuusuke had tucked his hands behind his head thoughtfully. "Well, he's still Kurama, right? So he should probably still know how his mind works. He'll probably be able to guess where he'd keep important stuff. By now, I bet he's searched the whole place top-to-bottom. In fact," he had sat up straighter, a hint of genuine enthusiasm working into his voice, "I bet he's found enough stuff that, when he decides to stop being a stubborn bastard, he can't possibly deny that we're telling the truth!"
But regardless of whether or not that was the case, Kuwabara thought dejectedly, the fox still refused to acknowledge them. He kicked a rock absently, watching it skitter down the sidewalk as he went.
He shook his head as if to dispel his depressed mindset. The persistent gloominess this situation had inspired didn't fit him at all, so today he was determined not to dwell on it. And the best way to cheer himself up—he could feel the smile float onto his face at the merest thought—was a visit to his lovely Yukina.
Kuwabara loved nothing better than to spend a day in her presence. And not only was she wonderful company, but she was kind and wise as well. If he mentioned Kurama's situation to her, she might be able to give him some good advice.
His mood instantly brightened, he hiked the rest of the way to the temple as easily as if it were only a city block.
"Yukina-chan!" he called as he opened the temple door. "My love, are you here?" He slipped his shoes off by the door, looking around for any signs of the inhabitants.
"Kazuma? Is that you?" Yukina's clear voice was muffled by distance and walls, but coming closer. Probably from the kitchen, he judged, approximating her aura and the layout of the building.
He set off to meet her eagerly. "Of course! I couldn't bear another minute without seeing your beautiful face!"
She giggled as she came out into the hallway, but smiled warmly at him. "You're silly, Kazuma, but you're sweet." She let him take her hands in his own, then continued a little more quietly, "Hiei-san is here to visit me today, too. I know that the two of you aren't the best of friends… but please, will you stay for tea with both of us? It would make me very happy."
A frown cut through his giddy expression. He had yet to figure out why that shrimp persisted in hanging around Yukina—and what she saw in him that made her allow and encourage it—but it always made him jealous to have to share the ice maiden's attention. Especially when a certain someone kept making him out to be a fool in front of her and causing trouble. But how could he let her down when she had such a hopeful look on her face?
"Today, anything for you—"
It was then that a thought occurred to him.
Aside from Yukina, there was one other person Hiei associated very closely with. Kurama also enjoyed the fire demon's company for reasons Kuwabara could not fathom, perhaps because they were both demons as well. The shrimp always seemed to be looking for chances to point out that he knew the fox better than any of them.
As much as he disliked the idea of asking Hiei… who would be more suited to help Kurama in his time of need? He had trusted his fellow ex-criminal demon with his life, and the shrimp—even though he denied it—did care what happened to the fox.
"No, that's great!" he interrupted himself, startling Yukina with his sudden eager outburst. "I mean, it's really great that he's visiting you and all! Kurama needs to ask him about something really bad," he blurted excitedly, "so it's perfect, and can I borrow the phone for Urameshi?"
"Eh? Of course, Kazuma…" She blinked, slightly taken aback by his sudden enthusiasm to see Hiei. And confused—he had been speaking too quickly for her to really understand what he was talking about. But surely it was a good thing if he was willing to get along with the demon. "We'll be waiting in the kitchen."
Kuwabara had already started down the hall for the telephone, calling over his shoulder, "And don't let him sneak off, it's really important."
An hour later, the three boys had finished an awkward tea, the veiled hostility and impatience mediated by an undisturbed Yukina.
Yuusuke and Kuwabara had dragged Hiei out onto the porch immediately after; he'd been reluctant to go until he discovered his reasons for visiting Yukina weren't the topic of discussion. He still put up a minimum resistance—why should he care what the fox was up to in his human life?—but hadn't require too much forcing.
They laid their story out at Hiei's feet, pacing the porch as they elaborated their frustration. Kuwabara mainly recounted his firsthand details of the encounter with Kurama, while Yuusuke added weight to the tale so the fire demon would not brush Kuwabara off.
In the end, the two boys watched as he leaned as silently against the temple wall as he had since he first came out. After a long moment, Hiei stirred, looking up.
He graced them with his best flat 'Are you stupid?' look. They remained unmoved.
"You're his friend," Yuusuke insisted.
"And you're both demons," Kuwabara stressed. "He'll listen to you. You gotta talk to him."
Hiei realized they weren't going to stop bothering him without an explanation, so he expounded, "Idiots. You've just told me Kurama has no memory of his human life, and has locked himself in his apartment in paranoia. Do you really think he's going to take it well if I stroll up to his door and explain to him that he nearly died and decided to become a human?"
They opened their mouths to argue, but he cut in again. "If you're lucky, he's heard my name once or twice. But we're both demons, as you've so kindly pointed out. There's no way he'll trust me, except perhaps to trust I'll slit his throat."
"…But you won't, will you?" Kuwabara did not quite put anything past the small demon.
Yuusuke elbowed Kuwabara in the ribs before Hiei could take it upon himself to make a snide comment. "We have to do something. If we don't, he's going to panic completely and cause a lot of trouble, or he's going to run away to the Makai. And if he leaves, we'll never find him back to help him."
"That isn't my problem." The demon shrugged carelessly, pushing away from the wall. "I'm not going to talk to him. Let him go back to the demon world, if that's what he wants. It is where he belongs, after all."
Hiei vanished before the two boys realized he'd been intending to run, and the conversation was over.
When Yuusuke mentioned while sitting outside Kurama's door that the barrier between human and demon world was gone—and had been taken down quite a while ago—it had been partly accident and partly subconsciously thinking of what Hiei had said. If Youko Kurama was scared and unhappy here, what right did he and Kuwabara have to force him to stay?
Needless to say, Kuwabara had not seen it that way, and they'd had a huge fight. It started in the hall, and carried out into the street when they were thrown out for the disruption, and lasted for days to the point that Kuwabara refused to go with him to see Kurama anymore. Yuusuke figured it was a safe bet to assume that the taller boy was still visiting the apartment, though—just without him.
Yuusuke continued to drop by as well. He had stopped trying to convince Kurama to believe them, but he wanted to be aware if the fox left. And sometimes it was nice, after a long day of work, to sit outside the apartment door and ramble about whatever came to mind or gripe about customers.
He had been doing just that, leaning comfortably against the wood and almost dozing in relaxation, when said door suddenly opened.
Yuusuke thumped flat on his back, cursing reflexively and rubbing his head for a minute before he registered that he was gazing up at Kurama's strangely haunted face.
He had pictured scenarios like this a few times before: how he and Kurama would laugh their asses off when the door was opened while Kuwabara had been leaning against it, or how the fox would open the door a crack out of curiosity and Yuusuke would force it open and they would finally be able to speak to him face to face. Now, though, he just lay frozen, stunned, not quite registering that the improbable had just occurred.
"There has to be a reason," Kurama murmured, his voice hoarse as if he had barely even spoken to himself since the incident.
"Huh?" Up to that moment, the boy on the floor had always assumed he would have a far more intelligent response when they finally managed to break through to the fox.
He looked a little shaken and very tired, his eyes hard as he checked the hallway uneasily. "Get up."
Not about to pass up anything that sounded like an invitation into the apartment, he scrambled to his feet and ducked under Kurama's arm into the entrance. The door shut firmly and locked behind him.
"There has to be a reason," the fox repeated.
"For what?"
The main room was a mess. Pictures and papers and trinkets and all sorts of things—more things than Kurama should have reasonably been able to find niches for in the apartment—littered the floor, looking as if they'd been scattered and rearranged and contemplated endlessly. The notepad that had caused all of the trouble had been disassembled, little squares of paper stuck to various items and noting things of importance, as if there had been too many for Kurama to keep straight in his head.
He reached for a note to read, but Kurama interrupted. "For me to stay. There has to have been a reason."
"You finally believe us, about losing your memory of your human life?"
"There's too much evidence to support it… it's flawless. If someone wanted to use this as a trap to kill me, they'd have made their move by now. And there would be some trace, some mistake somewhere…" he trailed off, shaking his head, as if admitting it were difficult.
Kurama gestured to the room at large, sweeping his arm in an arc over his handiwork. "A human life isn't what I want. I'm sure it wasn't what I wanted when I made the decision. I should have left. I've studied everything; I'm positive I wanted to leave. Even now, there isn't anything holding me back with the barrier between worlds gone."
"So why don't you leave?" It was exactly the kind of comment Kuwabara would have hit him for, egging Kurama on to run away to Makai.
"Because I didn't leave… because I haven't left yet," he murmured helplessly. "I would not have stayed without a reason. And that reason," the fox continued desperately, "might be very important. I don't know what it is, but there has to be a reason I stayed. And so I have to keep staying."
"Kurama…" Yuusuke's eyes could barely follow the pattern of the fox's madness spread across the living room floor—and even then he couldn't be certain he wasn't deluding himself into believing he understood. The thought processes behind it, going on for weeks, piecing together his and Kuwabara's words, the clues in the apartment, intricate and complex on so many levels… the boy had nothing to compare it to in order to begin to comprehend.
"Kurama, you're so… you've always been… like this." He waved his hand lamely at the display. "Every time someone thinks they know what you're thinking, you prove them wrong and become even more of a mystery than you were before. I never knew how much was bluff and how much was truth, or just how far you would go, or what you would be driven to if things didn't work out. Things just always… worked out. No one questioned."
Yuusuke ran a hand through his hair, sighing as he searched for the right words. "Sometimes, I think that you've probably never told us anything that was the full truth. You were always holding back. I guess you always thought you were protecting yourself, but maybe it's really hurt you in the long run." He met Kurama's eyes and murmured seriously, "You've never told any of us why you chose to stay, I'm sure. The only thing I can tell you is a story you told me a long time ago, when we first met."
Underneath all the pain and weariness, he was not sure how had missed the curiosity smoldering quietly in Kurama's green eyes. The fox maneuvered himself to the couch, sitting and waiting patiently. Yuusuke followed, a bit less gracefully.
He slowly realized, as he spoke of Shiori and sacrifices and hospital stays, that Youko Kurama was not some unfathomable demonic presence that just happened to be associated with the Kurama they knew and loved.
They had never truly known or understood Kurama. And his fooling them into believing they had was just another part of his exotic charm.
No matter how this incident turned out—no matter how the rest of any of their lives turned out, his own or Kurama's or Kuwabara's—in the end, Kurama would always be like he had been these past weeks. Unapproachably foreign and alone.
…
Owari
…
-Windswift