Story Title: In the Eyes of Angels

Disclaimer: I don't own YYH at all. Not one bit. If I did, the anniversary OVA would be this fic, animated to completion. Oh how nice that would be if that was true...but it's not.

Author's Notes: Special thanks to NanaHanSuki, The Only Love For Soujiro Seta,theabridgedkuriboh, KyoHana, TheScribe22, Alexisminamino, TheLastRomantic, Dark Bia, and Neonicus for reviewing, and to all those who faved and followed since the last chapter.

I believe this is the first chapter where Genkai actually has a speaking role. She's one of the harder characters for me to get her dialogue sounding right, so she tends not to show up as much in my fics. But only because I respect her too much to butcher her. Mukuro's another one that's hard for me to get her voice down. Originally I had planned on Mukuro being the Director of the Orphanage that Hiei comes from, but I chickened out and made her an OC. I still think of the Director as Mukuro half the time when I work on their interactions. So her presence is there but not her herself is there, if that makes sense.

The chapter title are lyrics from the Civil Wars' "Dust to Dust", which is pretty much my choice for Hiei and Kurama's character/love song for this AU. Warnings for this chapter that are spoilers—animal cruelty.

Special thanks to Sami_Delirium for beta-reading over this chapter. As always, thanks for reading.

-o-

Chapter Twenty-Five: You're Like A Mirror Reflecting Me

-o-

Kurama Minamino knew much about many things, but there were several questions on his mind that he did not know the answers to, and no book in the Academy's collection held the specific answers he was searching for. It was not as if he had simply forgotten a specific historical date or that was he working out his own theory and needed someone of equal intelligence to bounce ideas off. The questions on Kurama's mind were personal and private. Though he and Hiei had promised to be more open with one another just days ago, the subject matter of his questions prevented Kurama from going to Hiei for answers.

He wanted to ask Hiei, but Kurama had yet to deduce a means to delicately bring up the matter of the photocopy without overstepping boundaries and sparking Hiei's ire. After all, the memories involved were bound to be his very worst—

What the hell am I thinking? Kurama's heart bottomed out of his stomach. Being open with me does not mean I can ask Hiei to bare his soul to me because I have questions. Sure, his puzzle-loving mind had been caught up in the sensationalism and mystery of the photocopy, but that didn't excuse Kurama from disregarding Hiei's feelings in favor of massaging his own ego. It hadn't been enough for Kurama that he was certain that his speculations were right about Hiei being the boy in the photocopy. Kurama had wanted the confirmation that he was right, all the while overlooking the fact until now that it was not his place to know. Yes, such a horrendous past explained so much, but Hiei's past was not a Rubik's cube or an afternoon sudoku for Kurama to occupy his mind with for a spell. It was his life, and private matters belonged to oneself.

Disclosing more about his upbringing to Kurama was Hiei's choice to make, not something Kurama could ask for and pry out of him. Kurama was ashamed that it had taken him this long to realize his selfishness. Did he not care? Of course, he cared. However, he should have realized from the beginning that asking Hiei whether he was the boy in the photocopy was an absolutely senseless thing to do.

I'm not sure which Kaitou has misjudged more—how much I value Hiei or my ego. While I like to be right, I do not value being proven correct over, say, my interpersonal relationships with others. That is where we differ, Kaitou. I know when to keep my mouth shut for my own good. Thankfully, I did not act on my foolishness and caused harm between Hiei and I. There has been enough rift between us of lately.

With the caramel sauce finally ready, Kurama poured the hot sugar and butter over a bowl of popcorn. There were two bowls actually, one sweet and the other salty. Kurama was quite pleased with how the caramel sauce had turned out since he considered his cooking skills to be passable but not spectacular. He couldn't recall the last time he had made anything without a recipe or his mother nearby.

What Kaitou meant to gain from his trap, I do not know. However, I surmise that he has his reasons. None that I can justify leaving fully unchecked. Carrying a bowl in each hand, Kurama made his way upstairs to the main common room where Hiei and a short stack of Vincent Price movies awaited him. As far as the schedule noted, no one else had claimed the room for the night, though Kurama knew of other places they could hole up in if they were interrupted and persuasion did not work.

Hiei had already started their first movie. "You took too long," he said, sitting slouched between two couch cushions with his feet on the coffee table.

"Sorry. I couldn't decide whether you would prefer salted or sugared popcorn."

Kurama wasn't sure if Hiei was surprised at the fact that sugared popcorn existed or that Kurama had made his popcorn sweet. "You wasted time on that?"

"I suppose I could have asked," he said as he offered Hiei his sweet popcorn and set his salted bowl on the table. "But I thought it would be better if you told me which you liked best yourself."

Within a blink of an eye, Hiei dumped his popcorn into Kurama's bowl, joined the two bowls together, and then shook the sugared and salted popcorn together. "There. Waste of time."

Kurama wasn't annoyed, but there was a flat "Really?" expression on his face. He did wish that he had combined the two himself that way he could have balanced the contrasting flavors from the start. I could be wrong. They may be good together.

Unlike his admirers' conversations where Kurama only paid enough attention to skate by if suddenly engaged, Kurama did actually watch Hiei's movies, and he enjoyed them. Even the bloodier, gorier ones, like Evil Dead 2—one of Yusuke's selections during their "Halloween Isn't That Far Away" movie marathon last weekend after he and Kuwabara had discovered that Hiei liked horror movies.

Amid all the rubber-suit monsters, serial slashers that inevitably rose back to life, hordes of zombies, cackling mad scientists, and endless nightmares brought to life, there were some surprisingly good movies that deserved a lot more merit than Kurama had initially allotted them. The outright bad ones were, if nothing else, relaxing to watch. Hiei and Kurama easily made any terrible movie entertaining for each other through running commentary. For that very reason, he could not see himself watching such films without Hiei.

"Might I say that you've been devouring B-movies like cakes of late," Kurama said, earning a glare from Hiei as he crammed a fistful of popcorn into his mouth. "I'm not complaining. I look forward to our movie nights. I am simply curious as to what spurred you onto this interest."

It took a moment for Hiei to answer, and the popcorn in his mouth was only partially the reason for his silence. "Call it occupational," he finally said.

That was news to Kurama. "Oh, so you want to pursue a career in film-making?"

"No, I've decided to become a giant kaiju. Roaring, stomping on cities, dying in a blaze of fire and bullets, that whole deal."

And here Kurama had thought Hiei had found an ambition. Still, becoming a kaiju was better than his usual 'try not to die' answer regarding his future.

"I bet you would devastate Tokyo's cityscape like no other," Kurama said, as the title card, House on Haunted Hill, appeared on screen. Kurama was surprised to see that they were still watching the opening sequence. "However, that isn't a career that promises much in the way of advancement opportunities. Once you're a rampaging monster, that's it. You can't be anything more."

Hiei shrugged. "So it's high risk, low job security."

"You would do well at it," Kurama said, nodding affirmatively. "And who knows? Maybe the atom bomb will send you back in time rather than wipe you out."

"Where no technology would be advanced enough to stop my devastation. Isn't that the dream?" Hiei smirked, clearly enjoying Kurama's B-movie-inspired suggestion.

"You know I'll be the cause for your kaiju transformation. Should I be proud?" Kurama said with a smile.

"You're a mad scientist. Dooming the world is your destiny," Hiei said wryly. "You're either gonna cause a zombie apocalypse, kaiju me, or cultivate killer tomatoes. I know you can't say no to a project, but you're gonna have to pick an end of the world and stick to it. You waiting for graduation, or what?"

"Remind me to take us out on a walk first chance that presents itself," Kurama said, reaching over and gathering a small handful of popcorn out of their combined bowl commandeered by Hiei. "Daylight might do you some good."

"No. There are people out there," Hiei said through a mouthful of popcorn.

And I'm in here with you, Kurama mused to himself. You shut out the rest of the world but you let me come in and stay. "That was the longest opening credit scene I've ever seen," he said, as the five guests entered the parlor room and began to chat with each other. "The eerie music is painting the atmosphere quite spectacularly."

"You missed most of the monologues at the start," Hiei said. "Tonight we dine exclusively on high-grade ham."

"How delightful," Kurama said, rather chipper, as he pulled his legs up onto the sofa and settled in for the evening. The labs needed to wait. Tonight was not about distracting himself with fundraising for the student council, or covering shifts in the greenhouses or the library, or assisting the Biology club with quizzing them in preparation for an upcoming Science Meet that Kurama just happened to not be able to attend. Tonight was about normalcy and all being well.

Misery drew us together, but it need not sustain our bond. In fact, I don't think it can or that it should, Kurama thought, finding this movie to be his favorite yet, except for the young woman's prominent, shrill screams. I once considered Hiei Jaganshi a puzzle that needed to be solved. But he is not a puzzle, and I should not allow such pointless distractions preoccupy me from what should be my focus now—understanding what makes him happy.

Kurama stared dumbfounded as the "spirit" in the basement rolled across the screen on what were obviously skates hidden from view. The scene was ridiculous enough on its own, but Hiei gave up on trying to hold back his snickering and bubbled over with honest-to-goodness laughter at the silly sight. Eyes upturning into mirthful crescents as he watched Hiei, Kurama could not help but find his laughter to be infectious.

Loneliness, death, those are not our only common ground. We can share more than just our miseries with each other.

-o-

Having no interest in spending another one of Iwamoto's classes standing in the hall holding two buckets of water at his sides with another on his head and a fourth held on a raised leg of his choice for insubordination, among other things, Hiei sat reading Jekyll and Hyde in the library while Minamino the mouse napped in a knit cap he had stolen from some girl's open dorm. Apparently, it was disrespectful and against classroom rules to complete the day's assignment (still without showing his work) before the hulking brute had finished his patronizing lecture.

Of course, Hiei hadn't held the buckets for too long, just long enough for the bastard to return to his lectern, and then Hiei spilled the buckets out onto the floor and ran off. Before he had rounded the corner, Hiei had heard Iwamoto call him a "godless heathen" loud enough to disturb their neighboring classrooms. Rumors had it that a student he had forced to clean up the water had overheard Iwamoto grumbling that Hiei was going to "be praying for water when the fires of hell came lapping at his feet" after the commotion in the hall had settled down. Hiei was sure that what Iwamoto had wanted to say aloud sounded a lot less biblical and involved a lot more expletives.

Dumb pride made Hiei not want to tell Kurama that his book recommendation during Hiei's first few days at the Academy had actually hit a mark, and that every so often he skipped class to reread it, alongside his usual Frankenstein. Hiei still chalked it up to luck, but Hiei wasn't sure what he wanted to feel about Kurama being able to guess his likes from so early on, mostly because he didn't want to believe that he was at all easy to figure out. Pride and all.

Hiei didn't expect that the Academy's intellectual finest would waste his precious time watching a vast slew of horror flicks ranging in quality and levels of violence from fake rubber-suit monsters and bedsheet ghosts on visible wires, to an eyeball flying through the air into a person's mouth and Bruce Campbell grafting a chainsaw onto his self-amputated hand. Even Hiei had trouble picturing Kurama planted on that sofa grinning right alongside him, Yusuke, and Kuwabara, and Kurama had sat right next to him—not right next him, as in they were touching, but they could have been if Hiei had leaned or scooted over a bit, instead of scrunching against the arm rest because Kuwabara had to fit and there were suddenly too many people on the couch for Hiei's liking.

Hiei wasn't sure if Kurama liked his movies or not, but Kurama never once made a disparaging comment against Hiei for enjoying monster B-films and low-budget horror movies. In fact, he was supportive of Hiei's affinity for them. Last night's Vincent Price marathon had been Kurama's suggestion. All was well and good until midway into their second flick, Hiei's attention was drawn away from Price's dramatics to Kurama's presence beside him. Kurama wasn't doing anything at all. It was all Hiei's fault. Him and his conflicted body and mind.

Normally, Hiei was able to deal with his longings, but sometimes his desires to be close to Kurama overwhelmed him. He didn't necessarily crave sexual touch, though he experienced plenty of that as well. Hiei mostly wanted to be held. He wanted to lounge against Kurama with his arm around him or rest his head in his lap and be lulled by his gentle strokes. Even something as small as holding his hand would suffice, except Hiei knew that nothing would be all right in his mind. He was barely able to fantasize about Kurama without his mind putting on the brakes after too long.

Hugging Kurama had been a bad idea, but Hiei had wanted to do it. He needed to do it. Hiei wasn't sure if he had done himself more harm than good, though. The more physical contact he had with Kurama, the more he craved. He hated this feeling, craving Kurama's skin and warmth while knowing he couldn't touch him. It was tormenting, the ache twisting throughout his body just below his skin. At its worst, he laid in bed and succumbed to loneliness, feeling hollow and incomplete.

Hiei couldn't run from Kurama anymore, either literally or figuratively, but he couldn't stand these feelings for much longer. There was no controlling or stopping himself from feeling this way. He had to somehow lessen their effect on him, but Hiei had no idea how to go about forcing himself not to care any longer about Kurama, unless he planned to live life sedated or drunk.

There was no going back or staying where he was, so the only solution Hiei saw was to move forward. Hiei had to build up a tolerance for Kurama's touch. He had to do it in small increments, like he had done with Minamino the mouse, except secretly and without alerting Kurama to what he was doing or why. If he could get accustomed to Minamino crawling up and down his arms, surely Kurama's hands weren't an impossibility. Of course, all this would be easier if he just told Kurama how he felt about him.

One problem at a time, Hiei quickly decided. Noticing the knit cap rustling, Hiei reached over and stroked Minamino the mouse's cheek as she poked her head out from the cap. She crawled out onto Hiei's hand and then sat up in hopes of a treat. He didn't have anything at the time, but he was going to get them something soon.

Realizing that he had no snacks to share, Minamino the mouse laid down and flattened herself across his open palm. Like her namesake, Minamino was very patient. If she had to sit and stare at Hiei all afternoon for a treat, she was going to. After all, she had to make what she wanted very clear to him, so he could get it for her.

"Oh, don't you pout," Hiei said, with a small smirk. "You don't always get a snack every time you tell me you want one." He thought about plopping her back inside her cap, but he didn't have the heart to do it.

"All right, let's go see." He didn't really want to go to his next class anyway.

-o-

Kurama Minamino was being watched. He had noticed a little over two weeks ago a man pretending to be a maintenance worker following him from the Liberal Arts Hall to the Science Hall. As far as Kurama was able to determine, he was the only person following him, but Kurama was doubtful that he was the only one watching him.

Better to err on the side of caution, Kurama had avoided the labs to preserve his research, choosing instead to occupy his time in more conventional teenage ways—mostly spending time with his friends, especially Hiei. Frustrated as he was with his shadow preventing him from furthering his research, Kurama had to admit that it was quite nice to have a holiday of sorts, especially after he and Hiei had avoided one another.

Aside from mealtimes and study groups, Kurama did not always get to complete their quartet to spend time with Yusuke and Kuwabara in a more casual activity, so indulging in their movie marathon had been quite a treat. Especially since Yusuke had thought that Kurama was going to be appalled by all the violence and gore, and Yusuke had been pleasantly surprised to see that Kurama wasn't—most of time. The few times Kurama had been bothered he had hidden his discomfort well, because Kuwabara's discomfort had been expressed more loudly and frequently than his.

Kurama had his concerns, however, that the fellow was going to grow frustrated and bold and attempt to break into the lab and steal his progress so far. Secretive to a fault, Kurama already had indicators in place long ago that would alert him if his materials were tampered with. So far, on his last check, he had found no hidden cameras and all his alerts were still in place. If he had to place his research on an indefinite hold until he sorted out the matter of his shadow, so be it, even if it meant letting his materials go to waste and starting this trial over again. Kurama even considered purposely destroying his current trial to keep the Daioh Corporation from acquiring any knowledge from him, though he could not yet bring himself to decide on that course of action.

At the moment, Kurama was far more absorbed in deciding whether or not Hiei would want to watch one of the many Frankenstein movie adaptations rather than whether or not to destroy his research. Hiei possessed a clear affinity for the classic, but only for Creature's tale—and truth be told, Kurama didn't care much for Victor either. Kurama was aware from their past conversations that Hiei had seen a few Frankenstein movies, but he didn't mention whether he had enjoyed them or not. For all Kurama knew, the movie adaptations might be a point of contention for Hiei.

Deciding that Hiei should be the one to choose on this matter, Kurama turned to leave the aisle with his selections in arm and jolted to a stop at the sight of his shadow that had been following him standing in his path. The fellow reminded Kurama of an older Yusuke who never grew out of his delinquency.

"Good boys don't stay out past their curfew," the fellow said, smirking, as he pushed off from the bookcases he had been casually leaning against and walked toward Kurama. "Then again, maybe you aren't a good boy."

"So accuses the man who pretends to be a janitor," Kurama said rather coldly. "Must be difficult to get any work done following me around."

His shadow's grin grew. "How curious of you to notice."

"You were not in the least discreet."

"You're not hard to find," the fellow said as he reached for Kurama's hair. Kurama stepped back and found himself pressed against the bookcases. The fellow grabbed a fistful of his hair and rubbed it in between his fingers. "I thought it was dyed but it's not, is it? You use the good stuff. Keeps it soft and strong, even if it was dyed. But it's not."

Kurama knocked the fellow's hand away. The creep laughed in dark amusement back at Kurama.

"A good boy breaking curfew, not natural but not dyed hair..." the fellow said, shaking his head. "Nothing about you is what it seems."

Kurama was not sure why his shadow would confront him now, though the location was in the fellow's favor. The basement area of the library only had one large stairway back up to the lobby and the room dedicated to the Academy's film collection was relatively small and densely-packed. Blocking someone inside was far too easy.

"Been a few weeks since you've paid a visit to the labs," the fellow said. "How peculiar."

Not surprised at all that his shadow was interested in his research, Kurama remained quiet. He planned his escape path as he kept an eye out for the perfect opportunity to run. Unfortunately, Kurama was stuck in a horseshoe where backing up and running around the corner was only going to lead to the fellow blocking the other aisle.

"Let me guess. You've got something going on, don't you? And you're wary of prying eyes…" the fellow said. "Odd how you're all of a sudden so into your friends and movies and pretending like you're a stupid teenager."

Kurama had been concerned that he might have played his act a little too strongly and inadvertently drawn more attention to himself. Seemed like those worries were not unfounded.

"The fact that you have your own lab key is rather remarkable. You've charmed your way into a nice, comfy, all-access pass. You've got teachers kissing your feet. Or you've been kissing theirs." The fellow puckered his lips and blew him a kiss. He then grinned as Kurama's cold glare turned to absolute zero.

"Enma Daioh's got his eye on you, boy. He's real interested in what you've got churning in that pretty head of yours and here you are holding back something. I think he'd like to know what you have going on. It's been hard for you to keep quiet all this time, hasn't it? Wouldn't it be nice to get it all out in the open? I'm sure the Daioh Corporation would love to support whatever project you've had hidden. And then some."

"Since when has it been in the Daioh Corporation's best interest to spend far too much attention on one high school student?" Kurama said, keeping his voice calm and measured.

"Normally, we would not," the fellow said. "However, when that same pretty redhead holds the top score year after year and writes an absolutely brilliant essay that impressed many of ours in research and even baffled a few of our top scientists, we take a little notice."

"I would recommend you reevaluate your employment qualifications if a simple high school assignment is able to confound your best," Kurama said.

The fellow chuckled as he slammed a hand on the bookcase next to Kurama's head. "It's a pity we live in a society that encourages conformity, scorns boasting, and forces our brilliant to fake humility. How do you live day to day pretending to be no different, no more special than the bottom of your class?" The fellow leaned in closer to him. Kurama felt his heart leap up into his throat. "We can help you. We can free you from this societal charade. You can be brilliant."

"While I appreciate the offer, I must decline the Daioh Corporation's invitation. What I want most is to continue my education here at Sacred Heart and further my studies at a respectable university before I even consider applying to any particular company. Thank you but I have no interest in the Daioh Corporation." Thankfully, there was still an opening on Kurama's left side. He pushed back on the creep and slipped away. Unfortunately, the fellow snatched him by the arm and sharply jerked him back toward him.

Kurama gasped at the sudden rage in the creep's eyes. "Batting your eyes won't be enough to shake us, boy. We're watching you. I've watched you enough to know better. You're working on something and Enma would be very interested to know what that is," his shadow said, his tone low and menacing. "But if you truly, desperately do not want me to report what I've observed to him, I would be persuaded against doing so if you would pass on to me a bit of your brilliance. Say…five million yen by next Saturday, and you agree to pay me ten percent of your discovery's future annual profits after you go public with it. I find that reasonably fair."

All this for an easy pay out? Kurama thought. It really does not surprise me that Enma Daioh employs such parasites.

"I don't care how you get it. Ask Mommy and Daddy, loan it from your admirers, fuck for it for all I care. If you really are a good boy, I'll keep quiet and we'll have a fine partnership. If you're bad, my boss will find out everything, and I can assure you, boy, he'll send far worse than me to have your pretty head in his corporate collection. Figure it out, Red. Enma Daioh gets what he wants."

Kurama was already aware of the lengths Enma Daioh was willing to go to make the world kowtow to his demands.

"Which is it, boy?" the darkly grinning fellow said as he once more leaned in toward Kurama. "Do you give in to us? Or do you give in to me? Either one is in your best interest."

The fellow wasn't stopping, leaning closer and closer to his lips. Kurama smacked the fellow's chin up and away with his open palm, the fellow's lower jaw cracking against his upper. Jarred, and perhaps surprised by Kurama's aggression, the fellow stumbled back, his hold loosening just enough to let Kurama tear himself away from him. Kurama ran. His shadow chased him.

"Wrong fucking choice, pretty boy!"

Turn the corner. Down the straight shot. The stairs were midway, dividing the basement into two sections, left and right. Easy. All Kurama had to do was run. He was no Hiei, but Kurama was in shape. He lost a book. Maybe it was a movie. Didn't matter. Kurama tossed the rest of his selections in hopes of slowing the guy down. It probably didn't. Kurama didn't check. It freed his hands, however.

Like rain on a tin roof, Kurama's footsteps tapped against the white stone stairs. His heart flopped in his chest as he heard a second pair of taps racing just seconds behind him. His shadow cursed at Kurama. He was huffing and puffing, making beastly sounds. Like a grizzly bear. Extortion was probably only the start of the creep's plan for him if he caught him, Kurama suspected.

Off the stairs and in the main lobby, Kurama could put some distance between them again. The front doors were right in front of him. But where was he going to go next? The cathedral. Someone was always in the cathedral. His shadow might not even have the steam to keep up with him all the way there. Kurama was not going to leave his hopes up to that chance and slow down even a notch.

"What in God's name is going on here?" a familiar voice shouted. Sister Genkai, Kurama placed the voice as he reached the doors. She was probably on her way to start her round through the library in search of stragglers and delinquents. The wave of relief that washed over Kurama was sweet indeed.

Following Kurama's attention and realizing that it was no longer just the two of them, his shadow came to an awkward, stumbling halt and quickly attempted to piece back the tattered shroud that remained of his cover.

"T-this kid...he was..." the out of breath creep pointed down at the basement below. "Refused to go. Curfew."

"I don't care if he was torching our records room," Sister Genkai shouted, her voice raspy but not without strength. "You're under Enma's payroll, not the Academy's. You have no right to enforce orders on our students, and you certainly have no right to chase a student down."

For an old woman lacking in height, she was a pillar of wisdom and authority throughout the Academy. Not even Yusuke balked too much at her orders. Her criticisms pulled no punches and always rang true in some regard. For a time, she had served as the Academy's headmaster. Pity that she had not been permitted to stay in the position. She more than likely would have, if Enma Daioh had not influenced otherwise.

"Rule is no students outside their dorms after nine," the fellow said, pointing a finger gun at Kurama. "Then he should be in his fucking bed, right? I gotta job to do and I can't be doing it if I got this snot-nosed prick in the way."

"What, pray tell, was your job, sir?" Kurama asked.

His shadow went pale and silent. A fat bead of sweat dribbled down the side of his face as he stared with a clenched scowl at Kurama.

"Minamino asks a very simple and very valid question," Sister Genkai said, just as keen on hearing the fellow's explanation as Kurama was, though not for the same reason. "Show me your id badge."

"I don't fucking have time for this," his shadow grumbled not at all under his breath and slung his arm in a dismissive wave. "Kid should be in bed." He shot Kurama a you-got-lucky glare as he turned and skulked back down into the basement to pretend to do his job. His eyes vowed that they were not done yet.

Leaning his back against the front doors, Kurama exhaled in relief, letting go of some of the tension gathered in his chest. He was shaking from adrenaline.

"You're the last student I'd expect to see at this hour," Sister Genkai said, her tone not as harsh but still firm, as she approached Kurama. "It's past curfew."

"Forgive me," Kurama said. "It's seems I've lost track of time."

Sister Genkai didn't believe his half-truth one bit. However, she did not press him for the full explanation. "If that idiot was right about anything, it's that you should be in the dorms. Come on," she said, pushing the library doors open.

Without protest, Kurama followed.

Stepping out of the library's lit entrance and into the night as he walked beside Sister Genkai, Kurama looked back over his shoulder at the library. No doubt his shadow was fuming inside that his plans—whatever they had been—didn't turn out. He was grateful that Sister Genkai had been the one to catch his shadow chasing him. Sister Genkai was certainly going to keep an eye on both of them from now on and, unlike other teachers, she could not be easily intimidated into backing down or convinced to turn a blind eye like Father Iwamoto.

"We let you think that you can do whatever you wish, Mr. Minamino, but the curfew exists for a reason. You aren't above punishment," Sister Genkai said, as they walked down the streetlight-illuminated sidewalk. Their path was not the most direct but it was safer than to cut across the shadows."Don't try to talk your way around this."

Kurama remained silent.

"Father Daioh changed the rules. Your late nights in the library and labs are over, understood? Don't be stupid. Your well-being is more important than any extracurricular pursuit."

Kurama wanted to agree with her, but if sacrificing himself for a time yielded the results he was endeavoring for, wasn't that more important than his well-being? Did the needs of the many not outweigh the needs of the few? His research wasn't a trifling amusement or a grab at fame. There were real life-changing possibilities to be gained. The natural course of human life was going to be altered completely if Kurama figured out how to rejuvenate cells and reverse death itself.

"Stay out of the way of Enma's men," Sister Genkai ordered. "They have their orders and Enma expects them to complete their jobs. What that plan is, only Enma and Father Daioh know. I have been assured that the Academy is being opened to new opportunities and avenues for the future and that is all."

If Kurama told her what he knew Enma Daioh was planning, would he also have to tell her that he saw Takenaka die and that Enma was to blame? Would her help make any difference whatsoever? Enma's alleged mental facility was already being built and Kurama already knew that Enma was not opposed to removing any obstacles in his path. Did Kurama really want a direct hand this time in the death of another respected authority figure?

"If you have complaints, take it up with Father Daioh. Our new headmaster listens to everyone's suggestions. Teachers, students, parents, anyone. He's quite the change from our late Father Takenaka. He prefers cooperation with others rather than formulating his own solitary vision for the Academy."

Sister Genkai's choice of words were deliberate, her true message veiled, Kurama realized.

"This is our new norm, Mr. Minamino," Sister Genkai said, as they approached Kurama's dormitory. "Feel free to have a say in it. But right now, go to your dorm. Don't let me catch you breaking curfew again."

"Understood. Forgive me for causing you trouble," he said and politely bowed to her for the appropriate length of time to express his gratitude for her help.

"I'm not letting what happened tonight slide on by, Mr. Minamino," she said, her resolution clear in her eyes. "Nine o'clock is curfew."

Making his way on in, Kurama smiled softly to himself as Sister Genkai waited for him to reach the doors and safely enter the dorm.

Sister Genkai's stern words had not been a reprimand but a warning. Enma was the driving force behind Father Koenma's recent rule changes, whether his son was actively contributing to his plans or was merely complicit remained unknown. Kurama's suspicions were merely confirmed—why else would Enma ensure his son's appointment as the new headmaster if not to pull the strings and abuse his position? Enma Daioh wanted Sacred Heart and he had it.

'Enma Daioh gets what he wants.'

Was there any way to fight a man like Enma Daioh? A man who had cultivated a PR image of being a champion for the underprivileged. He and his companies gave millions in monetary donations and food and supplies around the world, funded charities for various social causes and disease research, and provided free tuition and scholarships to students like Hiei. Enma Daioh was beloved and feared. No one knew how monstrous he could be and those that did either worked for him or were removed.

Kurama contemplated if he should just agree to work for him. It was inevitable, right? He could have his choice of college paid for, a high-level job in a top Daioh Corporation research facility assured, a six-figure salary with full benefits and secret hush money bonuses. His family would be so proud. He could give them everything. He could have everything. Peace of mind and happiness, all his burdens lifted, his shadow and the others to come scattered, all that for what in exchange?

Just his soul and Hiei.

All he had to do was hand his soul to Enma Daioh for consumption, have his heart plucked out by vultures, and his capacity for human empathy and his ability to make moral decisions lobotomized, weather the storm of Hiei's outrage, accusations of hypocrisy, and his violent, disgusted goodbye, and Kurama would be posing for his Employee-of-the-Month portrait in no time.

Kurama wasn't even able to sarcastically entertain the idea without his stomach drowning itself in bile. Still his first question remained—how do you fight a man like Enma Daioh? What can anyone, especially someone on the very bottom, do to topple a giant? Kurama had to find a way to either remove Enma Daioh from power or, more likely, figure out a way to earn the brute's disinterest. Neither were simple tasks.

Despite all his money and the immense power it bought him, he was still a man, not a god. Men like Enma Daioh eventually fell and nearly always by their own hand. Regimes changed. Death inevitably claimed—

Kurama's eyes widened in horror. If I discovered a way to reverse death, or if the Daioh Corporation got a hold of my research and managed to concoct a viable solution… Unable to complete his thought but knowing the end anyway, Kurama grimaced in disgust.

Giving men like Enma Daioh the power to live forever and decide who among his inner circle deserved to continue living was never his research's objective but that was going to become its primary use, were he to succeed. Kurama was not even assured that the goal of his research was even obtainable, though he had endeavored all these years on it nonetheless. But in the smallest percentage of chance that the miracle was possible, Kurama was not about to let Enma assume the role of judge to the living and dead. Kurama's choice was clear.

He had to destroy his research.

-o-

Hiei sat at one of the lab workstations with his head on the table and his eyes closed as he waited for Kurama to show up, wherever he may be. It was unusual to find the lab door unlocked and Kurama nowhere to be seen. By protocol and choice, Kurama always kept the doors locked. His only exception being if it happened to be too late for anyone except for Hiei to stop by the labs, though he used to do that before the Daioh Corporation had begun its infestation. Whoever had been inside the labs last, Akashi perhaps, had left the door unlocked. Kurama was certainly going to be overjoyed to hear that. When he arrived.

Nothing else was going on tonight. Kuwabara and Yusuke were busy, and Hiei didn't want to hang out with Kuwabara's friends or be the uncomfortable third wheel between Yusuke and Keiko. Kurama hadn't said anything about helping out his admirers or any other plans. Hiei couldn't think of any other place Kurama would want to be at this hour. Unless he was actually obeying the 9pm dorm curfew, which was maybe a possibility but Hiei strongly doubted that was the case.

Kurama hadn't actually said anything about working in the labs tonight. He actually hadn't gone to the labs for while now, which Hiei certainly found odd, given what an integral section of Kurama's weekly schedule his time in the labs was. Still having all this extra time with him had been a welcome change that Hiei honestly wished that Kurama gave himself more leeway for or made permanent.

Hiei knew that Kurama's research was rooted in his fears and grief following his father's death, and Hiei also believed that if anyone could figure out a way to cheat death, it would be Kurama. But his research was a fool's obsession, one slightly above the madness of a historian that strove to prove Middle-earth's real-world existence in time and place. Kurama was completely aware of how impossible his research was and yet he did not stop. The infinitesimal fraction of chance that Kurama was going to succeed in creating a means to revive the recently dead did not outweigh the immense waste of time his research otherwise was, in Hiei's opinion.

Though Hiei hadn't figured out his exact words yet, he was going to talk to Kurama about his research. Kurama would listen. He may not agree with Hiei's assessment of his research, but he would hear him out.

Fifteen minutes had passed and Kurama had not yet arrived. The workstation countertop was once cool against the side of his face, but now the difference in temperature was unnoticeable. Hiei crossed his arms on top of the counter and laid his head down on his arms. Hiei was going to give Kurama just a few more minutes. No more than another fifteen, probably ten.

Maybe Kurama was at the library. He might be waiting on him. He probably should have made plans with Kurama rather than assuming where he was, Hiei considered. But there really wasn't too many places Kurama went if he hadn't been roped into helping out an admirer. In five minutes, Hiei was going to the library. Kurama could wait that long. Listening to the faint tick of the clock, Hiei didn't notice or cared that his mind drifted off.

"Hiei, class dismissed," Kurama said, rather chipper, especially since Hiei had just slept through today's lesson. Not that Kurama was going to be mad, just concerned, if anything. Hiei wasn't happy. Kurama's class was the one class Hiei didn't want to fall asleep in—none of his other classes allowed, nay, required Hiei to pay close attention to Kurama, though he would certainly stay awake in his other classes if staring at Kurama's backside for several minutes contributed to his grade.

Hell, Hiei would go to Iwamoto's class and sign up for Saturday classes if Kurama was there, though Kurama would have to be stretching in his gym clothes by Iwamoto's desk the entire time for that to have any chance of happening.

"Time to wake up." Kurama laid a hand on Hiei's shoulder and lightly shook him. Hiei heard Kurama's voice and felt his body jostling, but for some reason, he wasn't able to open his eyes, say anything, or move on his own. Hiei found it odd but not frightening. He might have not been responding to Kurama on purpose, though Hiei wasn't sure. His thoughts were cloudy. He couldn't be sure of what was happening and whether it was real.

He was waiting for the warning bells in his head to sound, for his skin to start crawling from Kurama's simple nudges, and the pain to flare, but it didn't. Not yet. For now, Hiei felt only Kurama's hand rubbing his back, and Hiei's body was not reacting to its presence as if it were a flaming brand. Nice as it felt, this didn't make sense.

Kurama leaned down and murmured into Hiei's ear, "The classroom is empty..."

Hiei's heart jumped up to his throat, hit an invisible wall, and then plummeted into the pit of his chest at Kurama's heavily suggested invite to fool around in the classroom. Despite knowing what Kurama meant, Hiei's mind struggled to process the situation. Three dissonant voices screeched in Hiei's mind—one clamored for "YES!" and was down for everything, the second screamed "NO!" and was overwhelmed, not ready, and found kissing and sex repulsive,and the third just wanted to know, "What the hell is going on here?".

"Time to rise, Hiei," Kurama said and pressed a soft kiss on the back of his neck. Hiei flinched, but how in the hell his eyes remained closed and he stayed still, Hiei didn't know. This was all just very strange. Kurama had never boldly, overtly flirted with him before, not that Hiei knew anything about flirting and was able to tell whether or not Kurama had ever flirted with him. Hiei had no idea if Kurama felt anything more than friendship for him or would ever consider pursuing anything more than that with him.

Hiei didn't know if any of this was real as Kurama planted soft kisses up the back of his neck and behind his ear. He had his doubts and perhaps proof, as Hiei's mind was remarkably chill with Kurama's mouth drawing in his earlobe for a brief taste. It wasn't real life, but it couldn't be a dream. Hiei didn't have good dreams. Kurama ignored Hiei in his dreams or Kurama was out of Hiei's reach, taken somewhere else in the Academy, and moved every time Hiei opened the door to the right room. His dreams took his fears and worries over confessing his feelings to Kurama and played out rejection after rejection but never showed him Kurama reciprocating his feelings.

Hiei stifled a low groan as the tip of Kurama's tongue skimmed along the edge of Hiei's ear. He loved this. He hated this. It was what he wanted and it felt all wrong. It felt good but it shouldn't. Not for Hiei. His wires were crossed, his signals jammed, Hiei was fucked up, and he shouldn't be enjoying this. Everything wasn't supposed to go as he wanted. Nothing ever went right in Hiei's dreams, especially ones involving Kurama.

If he just moved, Kurama was his. Every passing thought, any held desire, he could express without fear of his touch aversion setting him off if he just opened his eyes and moved.

"Hiei..." Kurama breathed softly against his ear, and then Hiei's warning bells suddenly set off at full volume, and Kurama's voice effortlessly slipped into the man's, and the man said, "Stop fucking pretending, you worthless shit."

Hiei awoke, pain shooting through his neck. The room was bright and hurt his eyes. Hiei managed to see that he was in the Science Hall but not in a classroom. He was in the labs. He remembered that he was waiting for Kurama to come to the labs and realized that he must have dozed off. Hiei tried to look to see how much time had passed but he then discovered that he wasn't able to move. His head was held down and one of his arms was pinned against his back.

"I always knew I'd catch you in here one day," Iwamoto croaked. In the last of his sleep fog, Hiei looked up and at first saw the man looming over him. A whimper of fear slipped out from his throat. But then panic and adrenaline washed out his sleep fog and he saw that it was Iwamoto there instead. Hiei was pissed. His head was killing him. His shoulders ached. Hiei didn't feel like dealing with Iwamoto's shit right now.

"So what kind of lie do you have to explain yourself, Jaganshi?" Hiei didn't need to see the pompous brute to know that he was relishing in "catching" him up to something. He also knew that no matter what he told him Iwamoto wasn't going to believe him. The bastard had already put Hiei on trial, found him guilty, and gave him the max sentence.

"Answer me, Jaganshi," Iwamoto ordered, squashing his gorilla hand down against Hiei's head even more. "What are you doing in here?"

"I wasn't doing anything," Hiei said, seething in pain. He wondered what the hell his goal was—smash his head like a watermelon against the metal lab countertop with his bare hand? "I fell asleep."

"I don't care if you were reading the Bible. You aren't allowed in here."

There was one question Hiei wanted to know but knew he would never find out the answer to—how in the hell Iwamoto had become a Catholic priest? Was he a priest? He had to be since students and teachers referred to him as Father Iwamoto. But still, how? Who had interviewed him and had decided that he was a perfect candidate to be a man of God? Hiei already had a long list of questions and a string of fuck-you's ready if God had happened to be real, but there were at least three more questions he added to his list regarding Iwamoto alone.

"I was waiting for someone," Hiei said, as he repeatedly lashed out his free arm in an effort to smack Iwamoto in retaliation or at least give him a hint to ease up on his head.

"Minamino." Iwamoto snorted bullishly. "He shouldn't let you in here at all."

Hiei wasn't sure if he was fine with Iwamoto figuring out so quickly that Kurama was who he had been waiting for. Mostly because he wasn't sure how Iwamoto had arrived at his deduction—not that it was a hard deduction to make, even for an idiot like Iwamoto.

"So where is Minamino? Doesn't look like he's been here," Iwamoto said, glancing around the lab. "It's past curfew too. He wouldn't be here anyway."

Oh, if you only knew, Hiei thought to himself, resisting the urge to smirk at Iwamoto's ignorance. Instead, you know only what he has shown you.

"Lies. You forced the door open," Iwamoto said.

"I didn't—"

Iwamoto seized Hiei by the throat. "I'm sick of your mouth, Jaganshi," he said, picking Hiei up off the stool, as he wildly kicked at the brute and clawed at his hand, firmly clamped around his neck, in an effort to free himself. "Takenaka protected you. He let a wolf like you roam among the lambs because he refused to see your fangs. I'm not blind."

"Just stupid," Hiei creaked out.

Holding Hiei as far away from himself as his great arm span allowed, Iwamoto delighted in watching Hiei desperately flail his legs out at him and kick air. "You're garbage, Jaganshi. The longer you're here, the more you spread filth. You need to be tossed out. I'm looking forward to it."

"Fuck you. I haven't done anything."

Iwamoto smirked in dark triumph. "Oh, but I caught you in the labs. You wrecked the place—"

The hulking brute swung to the lab table behind him and slid Hiei down the spread of lab glassware, metal support rods, and equipment, pushing everything into the floor. A dissonant deluge of clinks, clangs, and bursting glass clashed on the tile floor, scattering glass, metal, pricey equipment, and carelessly left out papers everywhere. Hiei cursed the dumb bastard that didn't follow protocol and cleaned up their workstation at the end of their session.

"Looking to steal," Iwamoto said as he whipped back around and slammed Hiei against the countertop. Hiei braced himself, his face scrunched up in pain, as Iwamoto sent him through a second chemistry experiment spread, not giving a shit about whether or not he broke a microscope or three. A piece of metal framework wedged itself under Hiei, letting an exposed nut and bolt stab uncomfortably into his back.

More clash and clang. A splatter of a chemical hitting the floor. Hiei hoped it was harmless. It was odorless, so it could have been a number of substances, dangerous and benign. Iwamoto walked through the mess, glass crunching under his monstrous feet. The bastard was enjoying himself, knowing that he had the upper hand against Hiei and that he was in control and able to inflict all the pain he thought Hiei deserved. He had subdued Hiei when he was still asleep precisely to ensure that he would not be able to either run or fight back.

"To get high." Iwamoto slammed Hiei against a cabinet shattering its glass windows. Hiei quickly shut his eyes closed. Glass shards rained down all over him, getting into his hair and down into his shirt. Pieces still lodged in the frame sliced small cuts across his upper arms and shoulders. Hiei wondered what Iwamoto's plan was, if he had one. How long was he going to hurt him? Until the entire lab was demolished? Another cabinet. More glass. Hiei hadn't realized that Iwamoto had moved.

There were chemicals in this lab. At what stage in Iwamoto's plan did Hiei's skin become a rag for the entire chemical collection in the Academy's inventory? Was he going to be forced to drink bleach? Hiei was lucky that not a bottle had burst open on him when Iwamoto crashed him through both cabinets. He was disorientated enough from the impacts.

"You've always been trouble. Nothing but a worthless street rat who cheated his way to a full scholarship," Iwamoto said, slamming Hiei down onto a workstation. Hiei tried to rise up but Iwamoto's grip on his throat refused to relent. Iwamoto half-choked him to keep him down as he whaled on his head, doing his minimal best to avoid hitting Hiei's face.

"You're gonna get booted back to the orphanage. You're gonna rot there 'til you're too old. Then you'll be a miserable, lonely skid-mark across the front of a subway train."

Hiei tried to scoot or wiggle-walk himself away from Iwamoto, but Hiei's legs and feet dangled uselessly off the edge of the workstation. Gasping in panic, he looked and felt around him on the workstation for something, anything he could grab and throw at Iwamoto to get him off of him. Hiei cursed as he realized that everything was just out of his grasp. Being able to brush his outstretched fingertips across a beaker or a set of tongs was maddening.

Pausing in his volley of punches, Iwamoto leaned down into Hiei's face and slowly, spitefully said, "You're a waste of Minamino's time."

A sharp needle of pain shot through Hiei, laying frozen and his eyes wide. His hurt, however, quickly transmuted into anger. Iwamoto could call him worthless, tell him to go off himself, say that he cheated or lied to get his scholarship, and insult him with every horrible name, curse, or accusation the bastard's pea-brain knew. Hiei didn't give a fuck—he'd flip him off and keep walking if he could. Accusing him of being a waste of Kurama's time, however, just ran through Hiei. Every nerve urged him to break Iwamoto's face, and Hiei was in no mood to disagree.

Hiei fought with all he had left in him and tried to get up but Iwamoto picked Hiei up and pounded him back down against the countertop. There was a large pop and a crackle as a glass stirring rod broke against Hiei's back. Again and again, Iwamoto bashed him against the countertop, glass shards crunching and burying themselves in between his shoulder blades and spine.

Iwamoto's grip on Hiei's neck was at its tightest. The room began to narrow, his vision blurring in and out of clarity. Hiei's mouth hung open but no air entered his lungs. His fingers pried on Iwamoto's hand ineffectively. So this was it—the way Hiei died. By goddamn Iwamoto's hands. Hiei had always pegged himself as either the willing or unwilling cause of his own death. This was bullshit.

As Hiei protested his fading, final moments in forced silence, he saw a white lump scurrying down Iwamoto's shoulder. Minamino the mouse. Hiei had forgotten that he had brought her with him. Hiei struggled to hang on and keep from blacking out. His gurgled warnings, however, went unheard.

Hiei felt his heart racing but couldn't for the life of him figure out where it was, having bottomed out somewhere at the sight of Iwamoto noticing Minamino the mouse crawling onto his wrist. Iwamoto cursed in confusion and then screeched in pain as Minamino the mouse sunk her tiny teeth into his hand. Iwamoto quickly snatched her and smashed her against the lab countertop, the sound indescribable, the tiny blood splatter on the stainless steel horrific. Iwamoto chucked her aside.

Freed from the hulking bastard's hold, Hiei slid off the countertop and flopped onto the floor. He lay, sputtering and gasping for breath. His lungs burned for new air at the same time Hiei wanted to scream. His eyes gazed forward in horror, his mind reeling in disbelief and unable to unsee Minamino's tiny head being whacked against the counter.

Hiei lay on his side, his legs drawn close to his body and his back bowed. His eyes were clamped shut and his face was flushed and twisted in agony. The grief was there, Hiei was overcome with it, but he could not force himself to cry, despite the immense pressure building behind his eyes and his desire to relieve the mental and physical anguish.

Iwamoto stood watching Hiei with a different kind of repulsion splashed across his face. The kind of repulsion that developed from intense guilt. Perhaps realizing how close he had come to killing Hiei, Iwamoto looked around for watching eyes and then immediately backed off, leaving the lab in a haste.

It was several minutes before Hiei caught his breath fully, and another minute after that before Hiei pushed himself off the floor and got back onto his feet. Hiei shambled around the lab, his back aching and bleeding with each slow, stiff step and in need of tending to, until he found Minamino. He laid her gently inside her knit cap and carried her in his cradled hands. The weight felt the same but the cap was still and cold.