Transience

A/N: set before the Dark Tournament. Established relationship, for once, because I wanted to try it. Birthday fic for BlueUtopiah.

'He's improving, isn't he,' Kurama said lazily, sprawled out on the soft grass he had grown in the clearing for that purpose, eyes closed, looking as relaxed as a sleeping cat.

Hiei snorted, watching Kuwabara run towards them for the tenth time on the kilometre-long running track they had set up for him. 'He'll be lucky to live past the first round.'

'I wouldn't know about that,' Kurama said, propping himself up on his elbows to watch the human's progress. 'His proficiency with his weapons has increased exponentially over the last five months, and he can be quite creative in how he uses his skills. And perhaps most important, he shows a certain will to survive that is…impressive.'

'Not that you have very high standards in that area,' Hiei grunted.

Kurama chuckled. 'How well you know me.'

They fell silent as Kuwabara trotted past them, breath whooping out of him. He looked pleadingly at Hiei, who had assumed the task of monitoring his physical fitness, and was thus directly responsible for the pain he was in. 'Two more laps,' Hiei snapped, and Kuwabara's face contorted in dismay before he set off down the track once more, vanishing behind the trees. They had both followed him quietly the first few times before realising that he was far too scrupulous to cheat even when they couldn't see him.

'He's very meticulous,' Kurama said. 'I suppose that's part of that strange honour code of his.'

'We all fight for different things. You fight out of self-interest, I fight for power and control.'

'And Yusuke?'

'He's a mystery to me,' Hiei shrugged. 'I think he just likes it.'

'Likewise,' Kurama grinned. 'You're actually being very nice to Kuwabara. I didn't expect you to take such care with his training, considering you seem to have such a grudge against humans.'

'I can't have him leave us one fighter short at a crucial time because he can't tie his own bootlaces,' Hiei replied curtly. 'Besides, I…am somewhat in his debt.'

'Ah. Yukina.'

'The idiot's completely besotted with her,' the jaganshi complained.

'Well, can you blame him?' Kurama asked reasonably. 'She is fairly good-looking.'

'And what about you?'

'She's not exactly my type.' Kurama's gaze flickered over Hiei. 'I like them dark and feisty. You should know.'

'That is not what I meant,' Hiei snapped, and Kurama could read the faint embarrassment in his voice. 'You. You're being quite harsh on him yourself. In fact, I've never thought you the teaching type. What the hell is that about?'

'Unlike you, Hiei, I have no compunctions about admitting that I care for someone.' Kurama smiled briefly. 'He's going to be a very good man someday, is Kuwabara. I'd like to see him live that long.'

'I can't understand this compulsion you have to protect the innocent.'

'Or yours to deny it.'

'It's more than that, isn't it?'

'That's something I've never managed to cure you of,' Kurama mourned, lying back and watching him with half-closed eyes. 'Your bluntness.'

Hiei sat down next to him, leaning against a tree. 'You're entirely too attached to these humans.'

'And I suppose you see that as weakness.'

'It would be in most cases.' Hiei frowned. 'On the other hand, your loyalties seem directly related to how dangerous you can be. Or how treacherous.'

Kurama winced. The 'mirror incident', as he now thought of it, had ripped them apart quite comprehensively, and even his explanation of his actions had not sufficed to get him back in Hiei's good graces, even if he wasn't actively trying to kill him any more. The jaganshi had not initiated any physical contact between them after that, much less sexual, and Kurama was very aware that any advances on his part would be badly received.

'I don't like it when people I care about die.'

'You care too easily.'

'A side-effect of being human. I've given you ample cause to be grateful for it.'

Hiei met his eyes, and they both knew what he was referring to.

'It's not going to help you very much, you know.'

'Hmm?' Kurama said, feeling the sun on his closed eyelids.

'They're all going to die eventually.'

Kurama sighed. 'I know that, Hiei.'

Hiei stared into the distance. 'No. You don't. Not where it counts.'

Kurama rolled over to lie on his stomach and frowned at him. 'Explain.'

'Everything you do. It's only out of fear that you're going to lose something. You'd rather die than lose what you care for. But your mother, Yusuke, Kuwabara…they're going to die, and soon.'

'They've got decades to live.'

'And you're truly turning human if that seems a long time to you, fox.' Hiei looked at him, and there was something like compassion in his eyes. 'This body of yours, it's taking over your sense of time.'

'You think I'm not aware of that?'

'I know you too well to believe that. I also know that you're the kind of idiot who would put off actually accepting it; but everyone you care about is going to die, and in an eyeblink of our time.'

'Hiei.' Kurama met his gaze steadily. 'That's not entirely true. Not everyone.'

'You could have wished for her to live as long as you,' Hiei continued as if he hadn't said anything. 'So why?'

'Shiori…is not the kind of person who can face the passing away of things.'

'And you are?'

'Perhaps. Perhaps not.' Kurama blinked. 'There's always the possibility that I will age as a human, you know. I have, so far. If I can't reclaim my youko body, I may age and die in, as you said, an eyeblink of time.'

'I know that.'

'No. You don't. Not where it counts.'

'You have an incredibly good memory for grudges, don't you.'

'And you avoid anything you don't feel comfortable discussing. I'd say that's equally irritating.' He turned onto his back, looking up at the sky. 'Hiei. What will you do if I die?'

Hiei looked away. Kurama had just kicked the hell out of their little conversational safety-valves, and they both knew it.

'So I guess you act out of fear too, hmmm, Hiei?'

Silence.

He tilted his head back, peering at an upside-down Hiei as Kuwabara staggered past them for the second-last time of the day, willpower probably the only thing stopping him from passing out, and vanished into the trees again. 'I thought you were good at accepting things.'

'You're as much a demon as I am.'

'No, no, that's not what I was denying. Besides, there's a fair chance we might not make it through the tournament, either of us.'

Hiei stared at him, absolutely expressionless. 'You are an unmitigated bastard.'

'My parents were married. Both sets, actually. You still haven't answered my question.'

'Shut up,' Hiei snarled, and in the time it took for Kurama's slower human eyes to blink, two small strong hands had tangled in his shirt and his hair and yanked him painfully up and around to sprawl against Hiei's side. He began to yelp in surprise when Hiei's mouth cut him off.

The first thing he felt was a rush of dizzying relief, and he relaxed completely into Hiei's grip and returned the harsh kiss. Then it was replaced by a quieter, steadier sort of something that could have been called either certainty or happiness, something that uncurled slowly within him and coiled through his being, like an arousal that centred in his mind instead of his body. It was strange, and new, and he was not entirely comfortable with it.

He pulled back for a moment, both to control that feeling and to grin what he knew had to be a slightly lopsided, idiotically pleased grin at Hiei. 'So I'm forgiven, am I?'

'You,' Hiei snapped, 'really have no idea when you should not be talking.'

'And wh–' he began, shook his head and leaned up for more. Hiei smirked and kissed him again, and he smiled into it again, and thought that if this was what it felt like to love, it was not nearly as dangerous as he had feared it would be. And then he wondered if that complacence, this addiction, was not exactly what he feared about it.
He broke the kiss. 'Hiei.'

'Still talking,' Hiei grumbled.

'I just thought you'd want to know; Kuwabara's coming back.'

It took less than a second for Hiei to shove him away from him and return to his previous pose just as the boy staggered past them to the finish line, presumably to collapse onto cool grass and get a few swigs of the water Kurama had left there for him.

Kurama didn't have the heart to tell Hiei that a sizable amount of his hair had been pulled free of its customary recently-stuck-a-finger-in-a-live-socket style and was now hanging limp around his ears, and his nonchalant air would have fooled no one who was not in a state of total exhaustion.

'So I'm forgiven, then?' he asked once more, because Hiei could be surprisingly good at nitpicking on details – a skill Kurama regretted training in him – and, with them, attraction could coexist quite easily with resentment.

'You had better survive this tournament, fox,' Hiei said finally. 'And don't give me that bullshit about the good of the team, either. We all know the odds aren't exactly good that they'll let us walk away if we lose a round. And both these idiots are unreliable at best.'

'Forgiven,' Kurama decided cheerfully.

Hiei snorted. 'You'd have wriggled that out of me sooner or later.'

'I'm very good at wriggling,' Kurama said, and arched an eyebrow meaningfully. Hiei snorted again. 'Hiei? I don't intend to die. And certainly not…so soon. But I can't make any promises.'

'Just as well. You're not exactly known for keeping them.'

'And you were right,' Kurama continued, refusing to let that comment touch him. 'I don't like the idea that people I care about will not even live a fraction of the time I will, and it terrifies me to think of losing them. And as much as you struggle against it, I know you feel that way about Yukina, Yusuke, and Kuwabara too. But I meant what I said, Hiei. Not everyone.' He met crimson eyes fearlessly. 'Not you. If you will have me, that is.'

'How like you,' Hiei mused, 'to use transience as a goad against someone who is not, by nature, subject to it.'

'True,' Kurama said, 'but you, of all people, should know that hypocrisy does not determine my tactics.'

'Yes,' Hiei said simply, and the slightly hesitant sideways glance as he said it told Kurama which question was being answered, and how long he had been waiting for it.

Because it had never been Hiei's move, he realised; it was Kurama who had had to make amends by placing himself at risk; Kurama who had to let himself be vulnerable, as he had left Hiei vulnerable; Kurama, who had to brave the gnawing uncertainty that had shadowed Hiei's life. That kiss had been a concession for both their sakes, and he was grateful for that. Kurama fought down a ripple of amusement at how neatly he, the mastermind, had been trapped, and a surge of pride at the idea that he had chosen someone who was capable of such a thing.

'Ah,' Kurama murmured, his hands rising to frame Hiei's face. 'I think I see now.'

'Finally,' Hiei grumbled. Kurama was forced to laugh at his disgruntled expression, and one corner of Hiei's mouth quirked in reply.

'Our pupil is waiting,' Kurama said, and unfolded himself from the grass, which receded into a seed that flew into his hand. There was a momentary displacement of air before Hiei stood next to him, and he laughed to himself when he noted that Hiei had also taken that second to rake his hair back up to its normal state. 'Shall we?'

Hiei made an amused sort of sound and fell into step beside him as they strolled down the track to where they could both feel Kuwabara's aura.

They were not touching at all, and there was nothing now in Hiei to suggest that they had been kissing a moment ago, or that they were anything more than reluctant allies who had reconciled their differences. He knew his own expression was as carefully controlled, even if his mask was a different one. These were necessary deceptions.

Still, those moments had been as real as these were, and even if the nature of their bond could shift and blur seamlessly from one extreme to the other in a matter of seconds, the fact of its existence was something both true and permanent despite the dizzying change that swirled constantly around them.

Kurama smiled a little, just to himself, and thought that this was a permanence he could get used to.