Another one-shot. My brain is only giving me so much to work with these days...
I don't own YYH. Too bad.
"Dammit Fox, what the hell were you thinking?!"
I stared at Yusuke in confusion…what was he talking about?
"Don't give me that look. You know exactly what I mean! You scared the crap out of me out there…and not just me, but everyone else…"
He was having trouble finding the right words. I could tell by the way he held his hands. He seemed so…unsure of how to get his message across to me, whatever it was. I didn't speak, didn't want to interrupt whatever train of thought he was trying to catch. It was obviously important.
His head snapped up, and something in his eyes caught my attention. Was that…desperation?
"You had vines…freaking vines…! Growing out of your arteries! None of us thought you were going to survive that!"
"But I did." I had survived and won two rounds of the tournament for my team. Where was the problem in that?
"That's not the point!" Emotions were swirling around in those eyes of his. He was getting hard to read…anger, desperation, concern, and…fear…? I listened to him calmly, waiting for him to sort everything out.
"Don't get me wrong…I'm glad you won against Gama and Touya, but…" He seemed to find what he was looking for. "It really bothers me how you can be so readily suicidal. I mean, you went down that last time with a smile on your face. A smile, Kurama! And it isn't like this is the first time you jumped at death with open arms!"
"I'm not suicidal, Yusuke."
"Don't give me that crap…the first thing you did when we met…you delivered a freaking oral suicide note before nearly giving your soul to a mirror. You were just as ready to die then as you were out there in the ring today, and if I hadn't jumped in there…either time…you would be gone. Killed by a soul sucking mirror or some coward who wasn't even up to facing you in a fair fight."
"You and I both know that I was unconscious when Baken entered the ring. I wouldn't exactly call that 'rushing to my death'." I could feel a frown beginning at the corners of my mouth, not at all happy with the direction of this conversation.
"I'm not talkin' about that. I'm talking about how ready you are to throw away your life on stuff you aren't even positive about. I'm talking about the psychotic half-assed plan where you grew a plant inside your body because there was a possibility that you might get a win for the team. I'm talking about how comfortable you seem to be with dying! You don't seem to understand how much it hurts the rest of us, seeing you being hurt right in front of us like that."
"I…"
His tone was disconcerting. It wasn't that I was trying to carelessly throw my life away…I had my reasons, of course. This human body would often fall short of my expectations after fighting for thousands of years in a different body. Not only that, but every move was life or death in this tournament. A single wrong move could mean death for the rest of my team. I knew all of this…but for some reason I couldn't vocalize it in a way that made sense.
"Listen, just promise you'll take better care of yourself from now on. That's all I'm asking."
I could do that. Maybe.
"I'll try."
I wanted to thank one very special reviewer...Silver Mayflower, whose lovely review inspired me to write out this little idea that crossed my mind. Thanks, also, to my other reviewers. Whenever I'm feeling like a failure as an author, getting a single review is enough to really brighten my day.
Thanks again to anyone who actually read this fic. Even if you don't review, you've still read my words. I'd like to think that somehow, in some small way, I'm affecting other people.