Finally, (though I still maintain the stance that this is one of my shorter stories both in length and time spent from beginning to end) here we are: the eighth and final chapter of "Black Roses." Since I'll trust that anyone who's given a care to read to the end of chapter seven is positively dying (and here I'm in danger of sounding arrogant) to read the conclusion, I'll say no more until the end.
Black Roses
Chapter VIII
Ai
April 25, 2007
Winter's gray light trudged through Hiei's windows. Blankly, he stared out them at the monochromatic landscape outside, and then rolled over. No one could begrudge him his weariness, not when even the sun was tired.
That is, except for Mukuro. "You're going to make yourself sick," she told him disdainfully.
He gave her a lackadaisical look. Truth was, he did feel sick. He had fallen asleep for a half-hour or so earlier, only to jolt awake after a disturbing dream:
Hiei had been chasing after a white fox through a snowstorm. Though the distance between them never increased, the fox grew smaller and smaller, and then disappeared entirely. The snow stopped. Hiei caught up to the fox. It was now an origami figure, soggy to the touch. He picked it up, and it tore.
Suddenly the snow was gone. Hiei now knelt on a white tile floor, white walls surrounding him, a harsh white light glaring overheard … white, white, white—Too much white!
"You look blanched," Mukuro added.
He blinked. Blanched. Yomi had said that about—.
He rested his head against the window. He'd thought that going to see Kurama might help to alleviate the weight pressing down on his insides. Instead, it was as though that weight was the only substance left to him. Hiei had lost his focus, and taken to wandering the Keep languidly, like a phantom caught between worlds. His appetite was gone, and he'd begun to grow gaunt.
Mukuro would not tolerate Hiei's physical decline. "Have you forgotten yourself?" she demanded. Hiei stared at her. "I'm thrilled that you've discovered those emotions you have other than spite," she said sarcastically, "but you've allowed them to impede your logic. I can't have this, Hiei. Someone with your position has far more important matters to attend to than sulking like a child." Hiei's stare evolved into a glare. "I will not allow it," she said in a hard voice.
The Koorime shrugged, as though saying, "Fine" without meaning it. He decided that his right arm was more interesting than she was, and stared at it, taking in the cuts and scratches along the lower arm and wrist …
And growling as a sharp pain afflicted his head. Mukuro was not finished; she had picked him up with her right hand, and he dangled in her grasp like a toy in a claw machine. "Put me down if you don't want me to burn the other half of you to match!" he snarled rabidly. He imagined a mess of scorched flesh and molten metal, smoldering on the floor, where his boss stood.
To his outrage, she responded with a superior smirk. "The Dragon would devour you if you unleashed it now. You've grown weak." She dropped him, apparently indifferent toward his fuming expression. "You did what you could for Kurama," the warlord told him. "Don't become him in an effort to compensate." She left him, an imperial grace about her, as though absolutely careless towards the wretch on the floor, who currently wished murder on her. 'Spartan shell,' he thought, cursing her. Of all the times when that rare warmth could have sparked in her, and it hadn't. Sure, she was concerned for him, but he could have used some compassion …
His sardonic side laughed. Compassion? Hardly. Mukuro and he were pots and kettles. No, compassion was something to find from Yukina, or Kur—.
Hiei's stomach hurt. A hollow feeling gnawed inside him, not because his stomach was empty, though in fact it was. He couldn't deny that his face and wrists had grown thin. He didn't feel good.
What had she said? 'You did what you could?' How many times had Hiei heard that now? Repeatedly, from Mukuro, from his fellow patrolmen, from Yomi.
Yomi, Kurama's other lover. Oddly, Hiei held no animosity toward him. He had learned that shortly after his reception of Kurama's macabre bouquet, and his hasty departure to the Ningenkai, another Ganderran messenger had arrived with a warning from Yomi himself. The warlord wrote that Kurama had returned home, but he worried for the Fox's state of mind. Hiei could not be angry with him after his efforts to help.
The Jaganshi resumed staring out the window. The weather was fickle, which annoyed him. The snows would melt, and the mild temperatures tempted anticipation for the spring. Then everything froze again, and winter raged on. The climate alternated back and forth, and Hiei became half-convinced that spring would never come again.
Finally, though, the ice began to thaw, and did not refreeze. The sun grew warmer, and one morning Hiei woke not with gray but yellow light on his face. The migrant birds reclaimed their perches from the rime, and their songs filled Hiei's ears.
It seemed that his melancholia dissipated with the snows. Hiei awoke from his semi-hibernation, and took to congregating with Mukuro and his cohorts, conversing with them often. And fighting with them just as often.
But at night, Hiei crawled into bed and curled up, and missed Kurama.
One morning, Hiei was walking outside, and a soft, mildly spicy scent wafted past his nostrils. It was Mukuro's lilacs, which she had terraced along the sides of the Keep the year before, just coming into bloom. Hiei seized a branch and gingerly ran a finger over the tiny infant blossoms, observing their mauve hue, inhaling their perfume. To Hiei's knowledge (which, on floriculture, was limited to say the least) they were one of the early spring flowers, along with the cherry blossoms.
The next morning, Hiei rose before the sun, and left the Keep before the horizon began to gray. He was long overdue, he decided, for a visit to the Hatanaka house.
"I haven't seen you in a while," Shiori said quietly.
"I … have been away," Hiei replied. He'd meant to come for a while, but had been afraid to.
She offered him tea, which he quickly accepted. Being alone with this woman made him nervous; his throat dried up and he had trouble speaking. A long, awkward silence—another trait of their "quality time"—passed between them. Finally, Shiori spoke up. "I … have some questions I'd like to ask you—"
He dreaded this, but he wasn't surprised. As soon as he realized that the man and boy had left shortly after his arrival, Hiei knew he'd been set up for a one-on-one inquisition with Kurama's mother.
"—But perhaps not right now." He did his best to gaze back calmly while she scrutinized him. "Would you like to go upstairs?" she asked.
Was that one of her questions? He highly doubted it. Upstairs … "Ye—." His voice cracked; he opted to nod instead.
Shiori didn't move. Hiei ascended the stairs alone.
He paused at the door to Kurama's old room. He'd stayed away ever since he brought the roses to …
The room appeared larger now; Kurama probably took most of its contents with him when he moved out. The Hatanakas had apparently converted it into a guest bedroom. He observed it all, taking in the colors of the different flowers that seemed to be everywhere, struggling with the tightening sensation in his throat. Finally, he sat down and rested his face in his hands. "Kurama, you idiot!" he practically sobbed.
"… I deserve that," a voice replied weakly, so faint that it could have been a product of Hiei's invention. He directed his gaze to his right, where Kurama lay. "They say you came to see me in the hospital," the latter said.
Hiei nodded. "I left you roses."
"They said that also—the bright red ones." He smiled. "They're the first things I remember seeing." His smile faltered, and he gave Hiei an apologetic look. "I'm sorry I was asleep when you came."
The Jaganshi shook his head. "You weren't sleeping," he said in a low voice. "They had you doped up on something."
Kurama blinked. "Oh." He looked mildly embarrassed. "Ah, yes, I was told that I was heavily medicated for the first week—"
"I'm sorry," Hiei said.
"Wha—For what?" his friend asked, perplexed.
Hiei stared at the floor. "I should have gone to see you again," he said, voice thick. "But I didn't … I didn't want to see you that way." The sigh of Kurama—incapacitated, drugged, at the mercy of those humans in white coats—had terrified him. Worse: "I was afraid that they might keep you in there; I was afraid that if I came to see you again, and you were still like that—."
He couldn't breathe. He forced himself to inhale, exhale. "I'm also sorry," he continued, "because I could have prevented it. I should have known how bad you'd gotten—"
"Hiei," Kurama interrupted. His voice was still soft, but definitely not weak. "You forget: Had you and Botan not come when you did …"
Hiei stared at Botan's attempt to revive Kurama, feeling like he'd just been dunked in ice water. And then the shock faded, and he let out an angry growl. "You coward!" he yelled, punching the floor—and wincing immediately afterwards, as beneath the carpet, the floor was very hard. He snarled like an animal, wild with rage. Kurama had teased him with the hope that they might have been happy together. 'I could have made it happen,' Hiei thought. 'I could have been the light!' The idea of it, extinguished, made him feel sick, and he staggered sideways as though drunk. "You bastard!" he roared, this time punching Kurama's wall. The plaster caved in around him, scratching and cutting him as he pulled his fist out.
"Kurama, wake up!" Botan sobbed.
Hiei turned on her, wanting to lash out at her for her foolish persistence at resuscitating the Fox, but then he stopped, and stared.
Kurama's chest was moving. Faintly, but nonetheless, he was breathing—Kurama was alive.
Elation filled Hiei, and then panic, renewed and more intense than before. Kurama had ingested the entire medicine cabinet, he was probably dying, he'd swallowed all those pills …
An idea struck him. "Move!" he growled at Botan. She almost had it right, except—.
"I'm calling an ambulance!" the ferry-girl announced, scurrying out of his way. He barely heard her; his head felt like it was underwater. Where she had been, he dropped now, and wrapped his arms around Kurama. "I'm not going to let you run away!" he hissed as he pried Kurama's mouth open, slid his fingers inside.
Hiei felt like weeping when the first strangled, gagging cry came, and bile, warm and wet, seeped between his fingers. He held Kurama tightly, restraining the redhead as his body began to thrash like a fish wrenched from the river. His grip didn't loosen, not even when Kurama began to cough and sputter constantly, vomit spilling from his mouth into the tub. Unable to restrain himself anymore, he pressed his face into Kurama's hair and began to cry.
Botan had to pry him off Kurama when the paramedics arrived. He wouldn't surrender the Kitsune on his own accord; he'd been afraid that if he let go for even a second, the harsh, ragged sound of Kurama's breath might stop.
"You'd be dead," Hiei concluded for him.
Kurama nodded matter-of-factly. "Yes."
Hiei swallowed. "Still, I could have prevented it from coming to that—"
"Hiei, if you continue on like this, I might commit suicide just to escape these absurd lamentations of yours!"
The Koorime gawked at him. It was a joke, Hiei knew. A very bad one. "… Your sense of humor," he finally managed, "is still warped."
Kurama laughed a little, but quickly sobered. "I … I have something I need to tell you," he said. Hiei raised an eyebrow. "When I was in Ganderra, I—"
"Slept with Yomi," Hiei said flatly. "A lot. I know." Kurama widened his eyes. "I, um, saw …" He pointed to the covered Jagan.
"I—I see." Kurama's pale face pinked a little.
Hiei couldn't help himself. "Did he hurt you at all, when he…?" He made a gesture with his hands that made Kurama flush deeper.
"Not too much," the Fox replied hastily.
"Yomi did a lot of things to you that I'd never thought of."
"Just how much did you watch?" Kurama demanded indignantly.
Hiei furrowed his brow, studying his companion. "You need to get out more," he said, ignoring Kurama's question. "You're too white."
"Am I?" Kurama looked outside. "Spring is here. It's grown warmer outside."
"I've seen flowers blooming already," Hiei affirmed. "Soon, the Sakura will bloom too." He paused. "I'd like to take you out when they do, Kurama, and we can watch them together."
Kurama smiled warmly. "I would like that, Hiei." He looked thoughtful. "Hiei, they also told me that when you came to see me in the hospital, you kissed me."
Hiei stared at him for a moment, and then nodded. "I did."
"They—our friends—wondered. My family realized that no one else knew, so they played dumb, and so I got to explain when they finally asked."
"Oh?"
"I … told them that we're lovers."
His answer carried the note of a question. "I think that's a good answer," Hiei said. Kurama smiled again, but promptly faltered. "What?"
Kurama was staring at his face. "Hiei, have you been ill?" he asked, sounding concerned.
He wondered if he looked worse than Kurama. "A little," he confirmed. Before Kurama could inquire further, he said, "I'm not angry about Yomi, by the way. You and I hadn't declared anything before you left, and if you're technically single, then your sex life isn't much of my concern." He shrugged. "Unless it involved rape, maybe. Did Yomi rape you?"
"No."
"Did you rape Yomi?"
"No."
A mischievous grin spread over Hiei's lips. "What about Shura?"
"That's not funny, Hiei!"
"I thought it was." Kurama gave him a Look. "It was better than your suicide joke," he said defensively. "Besides, I can't see you with something so short, and stubborn, and—Shut up," he growled, as Kurama smirked at him. "Anyways, I don't care about what you and Yomi did before." This, of course, was a lie, but he did not wish guilt on Kurama. "But you made us official, when you told the others that we're lovers. So, I hope you haven't gone and fallen for him now."
"I don't think you have to worry about that." He stared out the window. "Spring is here," he repeated, "And I am tired of lying around."
Hiei watched while Kurama climbed out of bed, discarded his robe, and began assembling a more practical outfit for going out in. "… How are you feeling?" he asked slowly, deciding now to breach the subject he'd been hesitant to bring up so far.
"A little weak," the Kitsune replied. "But I have been bedridden, after all."
"And mentally?"
Kurama paused in the middle of buttoning his shirt. "Well …" He shrugged, and smiled a little. "Today is fantastic." Hiei frowned. "Ambiguity is the best that I can offer you," Kurama said apologetically.
At least Kurama's good mood didn't appear superficial today, Hiei thought optimistically.
"Just to warn you, Hiei, Mother and Kazuya took over after the doctors released me—I think the latter were less totalitarian in treatment. We may have a battle before I can join you outside." Kurama was now wearing a pair of faded blue jeans and a long-sleeved, button-down indigo shirt. "Shall we?" he said to Hiei.
As predicted, Shiori contested Kurama leaving the house. However, Kurama insisted that he needed the fresh air and exercise—she herself had recently voiced the concern that he was far too pale and fragile-looking—; that he needed to check on his house, which he refused to abandon and would continue to live in; and that she shouldn't worry, because Hiei was coming with him—he did save his life, after all.
"I'll thank you to in the future refrain from building pedestals that I can't balance on," Hiei said, after Shiori had finally relented and ceased blocking the door. "I'm not a hero, and she's uncomfortable around me."
"Of course she is," Kurama agreed. "You are, after all, her son's enigmatic lover. And Hiei"—he gave the Koorime a dejected look—"I would like to think that preserving my life amounts to heroism."
Hiei rolled his eyes. "You hold higher value than I, and I was just fixing what I'd screwed up."
"It wasn't your fault!" the redhead exclaimed. "And I was joking earlier, of course, but I still don't want to hear you—"
They'd arrived at the house, and Kurama suddenly fell quiet. Hiei looked, and saw why:
Kurama was staring up at the apartment's face; the roses still covered it, like a mourner's veil of black lace. They had lost their vivacity since the first time Hiei had seen them, and that added with the daylight made them appear less imposing, but they still left an eerie impression. Kurama seemed captivated by the scene, his face blank as he absorbed it. He coughed, looking uncomfortable. "I could … I could kill them …" he said, reaching with a trembling hand for a branch.
Hiei grabbed his wrist. "They should wither on their own," the Koorime opined. "Look, they've already begun to rescind."
Kurama threw the ominous flora a troubled look, but finally nodded. "I'll leave them be," he agreed. "But," he reached into the pocket of his jacket, "I'd like something warmer to look at."
He'd withdrawn a dried flower. Hiei watched while Kurama knelt on the ground in front of the house and placed the flower in the soil. Its leaves and petals plumped and brightened, its stem grew and branched out, and soon a young rose bush stood before them, one vibrant red blossom already nearing full bloom.
"I saved it from the bouquet you brought me," Kurama announced triumphantly. He fished out his keys and unlocked the door. "Hiei …"
"What?" he asked, following Kurama inside.
He received a curious look. "Botan told me that you did this," said the redhead.
"This" referred to a sizeable hole in the wall. Hiei stared at it, and then muttered, "Botan has a big mouth," which earned a mirthful expression from Kurama.
"Hiei—"
"It hurt me too, you know," he retorted, displaying his wounded arm.
"—if you wanted to help," his lover continued, "I'm tired of looking at these boxes."
The pair proved productive, and was almost done putting away the contents of all the boxes, when Hiei looked over and saw that Kurama had sat down on the couch, and exhausted look on his face. The Fox noticed his gaze, and said in a conceding tone, "I think I should lie down for a while."
Hiei nodded understandingly. "I can finish here."
Kurama was sound asleep when Hiei looked in on him not half an hour later. He still wasn't the portrait of vigor, Hiei decided, but definitely better than, for instance, when the Jaganshi had left him in Ganderra. This note came with a pang of guilt, which he tried to shake off. He wanted now to focus on his part in Kurama's recovery, not brood on his role in the Kitsune's suicide attempt.
There was room enough on the bed for Hiei to lie down beside Kurama, of which he promptly took advantage. The warmth of Kurama's body to one side of him, and the breeze coming in from the window to the other side of him, felt heavenly, and he soon grew drowsy.
Kurama stirred. "Hiei," he murmured.
"Hn?"
"Before, you accused me of running away."
"What?" he yawned, confused, until he remembered: "I won't let you run away!" "I was uuup—" He yawned wider. "—set."
"You were right, though. I tried to run away. I'm sorry."
"Hn …" Kurama's hair made an excellent pillow.
"I won't run away anymore, Hiei."
Hiei felt that lovely, light blanket feeling of someone departing the realm of consciousness. "That's good to know, Kurama," he replied.
Some time later, Hiei rolled over, only to awaken in confusion after reaching for Kurama and finding only air. The Fox wasn't even in the room. He stretched, and went to the door. His friend was in the room across the hall. "What are you doing?"
"Hm? IM-ing Kuwabara. I haven't seen any of the others since I was released from the hospital. They want me to come over; would you like to go with me?"
Hiei shrugged. He could think of one or two things more entertaining—but he'd rather have at least a few more days or regular meals and sleep before letting Kurama see him minus his clothes.
As though reading his mind, Kurama suddenly declared, "You slept like you hadn't in a while, Hiei."
"I told you, I was ill; I haven't slept well lately."
Kurama pursed his lips. "Mukuro's a busy woman, I know, and normally I wouldn't contest her judgment, but she needs to give you some slack."
"… I'll point that out to her," Hiei said. He made a note to keep Kurama away from Alaric for a while—if Mukuro and the Fox ever compared notes, he'd be in big trouble.
Yusuke and Kuwabara were chasing each other around the latter's house as Hiei and Kurama came up the walk. Each boy possessed a colorful plastic device; Hiei stared, trying to identify what they were—
—And found himself sputtering as a spray of water hit him in the face. "Check it out, Urameshi!" Kuwabara exclaimed. "A squirt for the Squirt!" Hiei growled, while Kurama laughed a little.
"Hey Fox-boy, long time no see," Yusuke greeted. "You didn't choke on the sweet air of freedom on the way over, did you?"
"You make it sound as though I've just been released from prison, Yusuke. Although, the fresh air is much more pleasant than the hospital air; that was so sterile that it hurt to smell." As he said this, he pulled out a handkerchief and proceeded to towel Hiei's face.
Their friend laughed at this. "Are you his lover or his mother, Kurama?" Hiei threw Yusuke a murderous look. "Have you ever worried that your face might stay like that?" the Detective inquired. "You can scowl all you want; you're not fooling me. Kurama, it's too bad you were all doped up when Hiei came—talk about sentimental—." Yusuke took a step back as Hiei bristled. The Koorime felt Kurama wind one arm round his chest. "No, seriously," Yusuke continued, apparently emboldened by the Fox's gesture. "I mean, he looked like he was about to bawl."
"Fuck off!" Hiei snarled.
Kurama's arm tightened its hold. Hiei gave its owner a questioning look, and received a disturbing smile. "Do not make me wash your mouth out," Kurama said. Hiei widened his eyes; the redhead looked like he meant it.
Meanwhile, Keiko didn't seem to find Yusuke's teasing amusing. "What's wrong with being sentimental?" she badgered him.
"Wh-What?" Yusuke sputtered. "Um, nothing …"
"Yusuke's sentimental," Kurama reasoned. "Remember when he thought Toguro killed Kuwabara?"
"You're dead!" Yusuke threw down his water gun and lunged for the carrot-top.
Keiko pursed her lips. "I apologize for him being an idiot."
"I hadn't noticed," Kurama said, shrugging good-naturedly.
"How are you feeling?" she asked as the three left Yusuke and Kuwabara to brawl in the grass, and stepped onto the porch.
"Not so bad. It's nice not to be stuck in bed all day."
"You should get out more," Shizuru opined. "I know most redheads are fair, but even for you …"
"Hiei told me something along those lines earlier," the Kitsune replied with a nod.
Suddenly Hiei's body stiffened—Yukina had come up to the pair, studying Kurama from the looks of it. "You look so much better than last time I saw you!" she gushed. And then her focus shifted to Hiei, who did his best to conceal his apprehensiveness. "Hiei, are you okay? You look like you've been sick."
His face flushed a little, but not enough that it was noticeable, fortunately. "I-I was ill," he confirmed, his voice barely louder than a murmur. It was true, in an abstract sense.
"Hey you two!" Shizuru yelled at Yusuke and Kuwabara, "Let's not have any rape here!" The pair had fought themselves into a compromising position. "Keiko, Yukina, I'm sorry if your future children are, ah … let's say, if they aren't qualified to attend Meiou, like Kurama here."
"Not attending Meiou does not automatically make one unintelligent," Kurama responded lightly, while Yukina protested, "Kazuma's not stupid!"
"That's debatable," Hiei muttered. Yukina looked at him. "I … didn't mean that," he said, before adding, "Not completely" under his breath.
"I heard that," she said, but she sounded more playful than angry.
"You two bicker like brother and sister," Kurama teased. Hiei gave him a sharp look.
Suddenly Kuwabara lunged to his feet and bellowed at Yusuke, "Hey, hey! That's Yukina's!"
The ice maiden turned red—as did Hiei, whose face quickly adopted a scowl. However, he pulled away from Kurama, who had moved as though to restrain him, and shrugged, scoffing, "And I thought the Detective was faithful to his woman?"
"I don't belong to him!" Keiko said indignantly.
Her outburst earned an eye-roll. "Spare me your shrill feminist crap."
"Excuse me?"
Suddenly Hiei found himself the object of three identical glares. "I'm not a misogynist," he stated in defense. "I just dislike hypersensitive idiocy."
"He's afraid that rumors might circulate back to his female boss," Kurama said.
"Well, that would be poetic justice!" Keiko declared.
Hiei cast onto her a long, studious glower. "I would have liked you much better," he finally concluded, "if they had let me finish making you a brainless demon."
"Hiei!" Kurama admonished.
"Let's go," the Jaganshi said. "I can feel the estrogen levels rising."
Of course, this only inflamed Keiko further. "Well, I guess it's a good thing you're gay, then!"
He stared at her, and then began to laugh. "Only humans," he sneered, "are so stupid as to insist on putting little labels on everything they encounter so that they can classify them in a neat little fashion. They barely scratch the surface of deeper matters." He caught Kurama giving him an odd look. "What?"
The Fox suppressed a smile, and shook his head. "Nothing."
However, some time after bidding goodbye to their friends (Yusuke's accidental brushing of Kuwabara's crotch had sparked a new fight, as both tried to prove themselves more masculine than the other) and reversing their path to Kurama's parents' house, the redhead revisited his answer. "I don't think your observation applies only to humans, Hiei," he said suddenly, when they were perhaps a block away from their destination. "But you're very insightful when you want to be." Hiei shrugged off the praise. "I would like to think," Kurama continued animatedly, "that your sentiment may extend to matters other than the hetero-homo hysteria." Hiei nodded nonchalantly—and then it dawned on him just what his lover meant, and he repeated the action more vigorously.
The day was drawing its close. Late afternoon had already gone through its fruit bowl of colors, and the two now found themselves staring at a lovely indigo sky. "Ai," Hiei said, admiring the color.
"Ai," Kurama repeated. "Love."
They had reached the Hatanaka house. "You'll have dinner with us, won't you?" he asked Hiei. With a sly smile, he added, "Can you imagine that not once since I've come home have we had soup?" Hiei smirked. Laughing, Kurama turned onto the walk, when his companion suddenly threw both arms round his waist. "Wha—?"
Hiei kissed the Kitsune's lips. "Ai shiteru, Kurama," he said.
See? To anyone who has read my other stories, I have now proven that I can use character life as well as character death for shock appeal! And I'll tell you: maintaining the ambiguity of this plot, not lying by stating that Kurama was dead without ruining the ending by giving away that he was alive, was almost painful at times. I couldn't even give away to a friend in real life who's been reading this story that Kurama was in fact alive! Ellipses and dashes became my cohorts in the puzzle, as well as vague statements such as, to the aforementioned friend, that Kurama had swallowed pills (without confirming or denying that it had been fatal).
Oh, and it's been fun, and this story may see a sequel—I've something sketchy in the mind, but I can't make any promises just now—the story's ended, and it's time to turn my attention to new and yet-concluded stories. I thank all who have and will come to this point and fervently hope that you've found the journey fulfilling.