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2015-06-01
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Humility

Summary:

Before the Three Artifacts arc, a complicated yet vital relationship existed between Hiei and Kurama. Can that relationship be salvaged now, or will they turn on each other? They say to keep your friends close, and your enemies closer... and someone who has extraordinary potential to be both should be kept closest of all. (Sequel to "Arrogance")

Notes:

(Originally posted 3/15/12

This takes place shortly after the 3 artifacts arc. It is a sequel to my fic Arrogance and I'm not certain it will make sense without having read Arrogance first.)

Chapter 1: Humility

Chapter Text

"You really ought to lock this."

Kurama jumped. He not only jumped, he jumped so hard he hit his head on the desk lamp and dropped the book he was reading. He had not felt anyone approach.

He took a moment to compose himself. There was no hope of pretending to be unaffected, not with the elaborate display of shock he had just given, but he could at least control his voice. "Damn," he said dryly. "I must have forgotten to reset the wards against you."

No such thing had been forgotten, of course. Kurama took another moment to smooth out his face, and only then did he swivel around in his desk chair to face the other person. He did not stand up--there was no point to it. They both already knew every plant in the room was bristling.

There was a trace of a smile on Hiei's face--whether it was for Kurama's blatant lie about the wards or for his dropped book, Kurama wasn't certain. Hiei was trying to look relaxed, but his feet betrayed him--instead of standing with one foot one half onto the windowsill, showing off his balance as was his habit, both feet were firmly planted and ready to propel him away if necessary.

"How did you get out of jail?" Kurama asked, equally motivated by burning curiosity as to how Hiei'd managed it and similarly urgent need to know if there would be a large contingent of angry guards arriving shortly in the backyard.

"I did what you did," Hiei replied, his tone indicating this ought to have been obvious.

It took Kurama a moment to figure out what Hiei meant. It took him a much longer moment to decide if it was safe to laugh. In the past it would have been, but the rules had been broken into shards, and now they were being rewritten with every passing second.

In the end, it wound up not mattering whether it was safe or not. He couldn't help it. He laughed softly, only a little, but he did laugh. "You mean... you and Yusuke?" Hiei showed no reaction, but he would have contradicted Kurama if he were wrong. "You, me, Yusuke," Kurama continued, unable to help a broad smile. "This is going to be--fantastic."

"I fail to see how you arrive at that conclusion. It's going to be torture."

"Where's your sense of irony?"

"We never have agreed very well on whether irony implies humor."

Kurama paused. The atmosphere between them had suddenly changed, and judging from Hiei's expression he hadn't meant for it to happen. It had been a slip of the tongue, to say we never do this or we always do that, not a deliberate move on his part. Yet deliberate or not, it had happened, and Kurama briefly debated moving in that direction. No--there was enough danger in the present moment. No need to go looking for it in the past.

Danger. But not immediate. Between Hiei's revelation that they were teammates again and the slip of familiarity he had just made, it seemed unlikely that his presence in the window signaled the beginning of a fight. Not a physical one, at least.

So Kurama decided to pretend the slip hadn't happened. He assumed a casual pose, crossing his ankles and leaning back in the chair. "So, I take it you're free to move about human world?"

"This city."

"Don't tell me I'm supposed to keep an eye on you."

"A criminal like yourself? Please. It's the idiot human who's supposed to do that."

"He's actually very nice," Kurama observed.

"I hate him."

"You haven't gotten to know him."

"I despise him and everything he stands for."

"...Perhaps you're right, this may not work too well."

"Of course I'm right. I despise you, also."

"Then why are you in my window?"

"To see how you would react."

"Ah." Kurama had to admit that, in Hiei's situation, he would have done exactly the same thing. "Are you still planning on killing me?"

"You assume that I've been planning to in the first place."

"...I note that your statement, while giving the appearance of rejecting that notion, does not actually do so."

"Imagine that."

There was limited tension in either of their voices. This discussion might be quite relevant to the future, but for the present--Kurama's plants, now returned to a docile, dormant state, said enough about what they both thought about the possibility of violence being carried out in the present.

Kurama cocked his head and considered Hiei. "So... are you?"

"If I was, would I tell you?"

"A fair point."

Silence descended, with Kurama looking at Hiei curiously and Hiei looking back blankly. Hiei seemed to have nothing further to offer, so Kurama decided to push him a bit and see if he could get a reaction. "I have several justifications for my actions, by the way."

"I'm well aware of that. I note that she's still alive."

Kurama said nothing. He didn't know what he could say--yes, Shiori was alive, no, he wasn't sorry for his betrayal, because yes, he'd gotten what he wanted. It bothered him to be wordless in front of Hiei. He didn't know how safe he was. He did know, however, that Hiei was watching his face closely and probably reading every thought that went through his head. "You left me no choice," Kurama said finally.

Hiei looked at him wordlessly for a moment before giving a single nod of acknowledgement. "A mistake I won't make again."

Kurama smiled, doubly pleased--pleased that a future was implied, and that Hiei would show enough humility to admit to having made an error. Come to think of it, it was an act of humility for Hiei to even be here--back in Kurama's territory, within reach of Kurama's snares. A concession.

The kind of concession that Hiei was so terribly fond of throwing Kurama when he least expected it. And since Kurama never expected Hiei to concede in anything, it always provoked a reaction in him. Then Kurama would have to scramble to figure out why Hiei had done it, and Hiei would smirk at his discomposure, effectively turning the concession into a victory.

Just like he was starting to do now, a hint of a smile creeping over his face. He was playing Kurama.

Spurred by the smile, Kurama decided to push harder. "I missed you," he said simply, wondering if there was any chance it would be taken at face value.

Hiei's face darkened immediately. He crouched like he was preparing to spring--not at Kurama, out the window. "You tried to have me killed."

Kurama felt the hot flush of anger pouring through him. "I did not," he replied vehemently. "I would never have allowed Yusuke to kill you.

"Allowed? You were gushing blood from a hole through the abdomen and unable to walk. You couldn't have allowed anything."

"He would have listened to me. If it had come to that point--which I do not believe would have ever happened--he would have stopped if I asked."

"Idiot."

"Listen to me, Hiei. Forget your pride and just listen for a minute, because it's important that you understand this. I betrayed you, I walked out on you, but I did not set you up to die. Yusuke isn't anywhere near strong enough to kill you with one blow--even with my interference, he was barely able to knock you out. And it's in neither his personality nor his job description for him to kill you once you were down."

"Why interfere at all, then? You already had your prize."

"I was trying to save his life, you egotist. It wasn't about you. Yusuke wouldn't have killed you, but you would have killed him. Considering that I owed him both mine and my mother's lives, I thought it would be ungracious of me to allow that to happen."

"You did all that to repay him?"

"I don't like to be indebted. You know that."

Hiei scowled slightly. Interesting--he had not liked Kurama's very deliberate "slip," referencing the past just as Hiei had done earlier. Or maybe he had just disliked Kurama's answer altogether.

Either way, he had nothing further to say. The two lapsed into a brooding silence, staring at each other. Kurama had not moved from his chair, nor Hiei from his crouch. As the silence went on it transformed into its own kind of battle: each of them trying to read the other's face, and wondering how open to keep his own expression, or energy, or eyes. They knew where they were not--they were not at war, and they were not at peace--but that didn't mean they knew where they were.

Kurama was the one to eventually break the stalemate. Keep your friends close, he thought as he sighed and stretched, deliberately shattering the tense tableau, and your enemies closer. And someone who has extraordinary potential to be both, should be kept closest of all. "Hiei, would you make up your mind if you want to be inside or out? It's getting cold."

Hiei blinked. Kurama's words, and demeanor, were suddenly those of a month ago. As though nothing had happened. Hiei considered for a moment, his face inscrutable. Then he came inside and shut the window.

Kurama, hoping Hiei couldn't hear him, slowly let his breath out. "I suppose you'll be back to sleeping on the carpet," he said. "Do you want one of my blankets, or do you think the cooties will get you?"

Hiei sent him a withering glare. "Just because you're cold doesn't mean I am."

"So that's a yes on the cooties." Hiei looked like he was struggling to form an appropriately vicious response, but Kurama didn't wait for him to find one. He turned and went into the bathroom to get ready for bed. Hiei, who in the past had liked to nag Kurama during this process (particularly when Kurama's mouth was full of toothpaste), did not follow him. He was still sitting at the base of the window when Kurama came back into the room, and remained there as Kurama got into bed and turned out the light. He could have been a statue.

They were a long time silent in the dark before anything changed. Kurama was far from asleep, but lay motionless, his mind racing. Now that the initial skirmish was over, he let himself dwell on his disbelief that Hiei was here, in his room, just like before. Well--no, not just like before, because before they had been comfortable enough that Hiei would have slept next to him in bed. But still, he was here, unbelievably here...

...but was it so unbelievable? Why had Kurama left the window open and the wards down, if he had not thought there was a possibility that Hiei might return?

"Kurama." Hiei's voice cut softly through the darkness.

"Yes, Hiei?" Kurama did not turn towards him. There was enough light that he would have been able to discern some expression on Hiei's face, and visa-versa. He preferred to face the ceiling.

"If I had chosen to kill you, I could have."

"Yes." Kurama wasted no time in acknowledging that.

"You managed to place the first strike well. But I had enough time to make another dozen strokes before you blinded me."

"How fortunate for us both that you did not."

"You counted on my shock to save you?"

Kurama made a noncommittal noise that could have been taken for assent, except that Hiei knew better. "No, that's too much of a risk for you. You couldn't have known how long it would take for shock to end and fury to start. So you were willing to die for him?"

"I do hate to be indebted."

"Someone you'd known for a day. Because he saved your life, you would hand it right back so that he could live."

Kurama lay still for a moment. He debated. But in the end, he knew he owed Hiei the truth. "No."

Hiei said nothing. He didn't have to; Kurama could feel the weight of his waiting. It was like he'd given Kurama one of those glances he used to use in the place of words; except here, in the darkness, it was all expectation and silence. "I guessed that you wouldn't kill me," Kurama said. "I can't explain how I knew. It was instinctive. And I fully expect you to call me arrogant. Maybe I was. But I knew that you wouldn't do it."

Hiei was silent for a long moment. "You are arrogant," he said finally, in a quiet and subdued tone.

"Your turn. Why didn't you kill me?"

"You don't know?"

"No."

"Then I won't tell you."

Now Kurama did turn to face him. "I'll figure it out," he challenged. "You know I will. That's one of the things you hate about me, that I get all your secrets from you whether you wish it or not. If I were you, I would save myself all the poking and prodding and tell me now."

Hiei looked at him with an unreadable expression. His voice was cold. "This wouldn't be any fun if I didn't throw you a curveball now and then."

Kurama didn't reply. He lay back down, shaking at the bitterness with which Hiei was able to quote back to him his own words from months ago. His mind was teeming with questions but not another one he was willing to ask, not tonight. Just to be able to sleep in the same room was enough for tonight.

But they didn't sleep. They stayed where they were, quiet and motionless, waiting for sleep to come but too aware of the other's presence to actually find it, until dawn came through the window.

Chapter 2: Antagonism

Chapter Text

"You would be wise to not do that again."

They were walking down the street together; Kurama fuming, his expression dark, and Hiei pretending unconcern, his hands in his pockets. "Why?" Hiei asked.

"Because while killing you is a violation of both our paroles, torturing you is not," Kurama replied flatly.

"Both our paroles? I'm fairly certain my parole does not stipulate that I am not to die."

"Excellent. Then you won't mind if I kill you after all."

"Go right ahead."

They walked a few paces in silence before Kurama spoke again. "That was anticlimactic."

"And pointless," Hiei agreed. "We both know you can't kill me. Not if you want to stay near that woman. Your threat was moot from the beginning."

"Only the part about killing you. Don't ever show up at my school again, Hiei."

"But I don't have anything else to do," Hiei said, with mock innocence. "Not until that human has a case. Furthermore, I am restricted to this city where you are the only person I know.  I have nothing to do but seek out your company."

"Go make some new friends. Go kill pigeons in the park. Anything."

Hiei suppressed a smile. It gave him a great deal of satisfaction, under the current circumstances, to be aggravating Kurama. "Answer something for me first. How do you stand going to that place? It reeks."

"The school?" Hiei nodded. Kurama shrugged. "Most places where humans are confined together do."

"Interesting choice of words," Hiei commented. He was genuinely curious about the situation, in addition to trying to annoy Kurama. Before, he had stayed out of the human side of Kurama's life as much as possible, wanting to pretend it didn't exist. Now, with his parole set and nothing to do but figure out where he stood with Kurama, he was checking out every aspect of the fox's life. He was appalled at what he'd found so far. "That building's a trap. If someone were to set fire to that place--"

"Is that a threat?"

"An observation. If someone set fire to that place, everyone would panic and no one would escape."

Kurama's tension was palpable. His feet were hitting the pavement a little harder than necessary, and his hands were halfway curled into fists. Hiei was a little surprised at the intensity of his reaction. He knew he was hitting Kurama's fox-like aversion to being trapped dead on, manipulating it for all it was worth, but he hadn't quite expected this much success.  

"...Are you performing for me?" Hiei asked with sudden disgust.

Kurama gave him a disdainful look. "I thought it might get rid of you faster if you believed you were succeeding in your efforts."

And his posture relaxed, his features smoothed out, his stride gentled--every sign of irritation Kurama had been so carefully displaying for him vanished. Hiei felt his own shoulders tense.  "So," Kurama said. "We've established that you won't visit my school again."

"We have not."

"Hiei." Hiei tensed a little more, familiar with the hint of steel that had just entered Kurama's voice. It was subtle, but Hiei was aware that Kurama meant what he was saying. "If you want me to miserable, you have a hundred different methods at your disposal. But if you blow my cover, I don't care about parole. They won't find your ashes."

"Who said anything about blowing your cover?"

"You did. When you showed up at the window, two stories up with no explanation, greeted me by my demon name, and called the teacher stupid and the students maggots. I had to use my entire stock of dream flower pollen. If you do it again, I will inform Koenma you are revealing demon activity to the humans in this city. That's a violation of parole, isn't it?"

"...No." It probably was.

"I'm sure I could make it one."

"I can't believe you're resorting to Koenma to counter me."

"Hiei, when  you came to my room a few days ago you said you would never again make the mistake of leaving me with no options. Remember? I don't want to fight you. But if you fight me, I will win. There's an easy solution. Don't force me into it in the first place."

Hiei didn't answer. He was uncomfortably aware that Kurama had a point. Hiei had acknowledged that it had been a mistake to back Kurama into a corner. And now here he was, devoting all his time and energy to poking at him to see what would make him poke back, like it was safe to do so.

It had been once. Or so he had thought. But Kurama had betrayed him, so smoothly that Hiei hadn't been able to see it in time to stop it, and Hiei doubted now that he had been safe for any moment he had spent in Kurama's company.

They didn't speak further on the walk to Kurama's house. Kurama was showing tension again, but Hiei didn't try to figure out if it was for his benefit or not. He just kept walking.

The silence continued throughout the afternoon, as Kurama went straight to his desk and staid there for several hours, studiously ignoring Hiei. Hiei knew the fox couldn't possibly have anywhere near that much schoolwork, but he didn't say anything. He settled into the windowsill, dozing lightly but staying alert enough to notice any change in Kurama's behavior.

I have nothing to do but this, and nowhere to be but this, he reminded himself sourly, when a little nagging voice of conscience cautioned him it might be better to leave. Something stronger than conscience told him to stay. It wasn't vengeance--or at least, not entirely vengeance. It was an instinct he couldn't figure out, telling him to push, regardless of whether it was safe or not.

So when Kurama went downstairs to make himself dinner (his mother still being at a rehabilitation center), Hiei followed and made disparaging comments about human stomachs. Kurama replied by offering him something to eat in so sweet a voice that Hiei wondered if Kurama was fantasizing about poisoning him. After that he couldn't do anything but refuse to eat, although before he had raided the kitchen with impunity and even--if he would admit it to himself--grown fond of the fox's cooking.

No more. Even if he hadn't suspected Kurama was not above adding something to the meal, it would put too much power in Kurama's hands to accept his food. It was bad enough that Hiei was already sleeping in his room again, like nothing had happened. Like they were still so certain of their equality that they had stopped keeping track of who was giving what to whom. He had to be vigilant against old habits.

"Are you going to pretend to read all night?" he asked when Kurama finished eating and immediately turned back to his textbooks.

"I am reading," Kurama replied.

"You know what I mean."

"You mean am I going to ignore you all night. Yes."

"I'm surprised you're not trying to learn everything you can from me. I would, if I were you."

"I know you intend to play by Koenma's rules for now, and therefore I know you are not a danger to me. That will do for now."

"You still don't know why I didn't kill you."

Kurama shot him an annoyed look over the top of his book. "I don't suppose that statement is an indication that you want to tell me."

Hiei made a mental note that this was still a sore spot for Kurama. "I think you know me better than that."

"Yes," Kurama said, his expression darkening into a scowl. "I know you're going to prevent me knowing for as long as possible, because you think it matters to me."

"It does matter to you."

"You would have told me before," Kurama said, his eyes fixed on Hiei's. His tone had suddenly gone from challenging to sorrowful. "You would have teased me about it, yes, but you would have told me before the night was out."

Hiei wasn't sure how to reply. The obvious--that things were different now--was so obvious that it didn't merit being said. So what had been Kurama's purpose in pointing the difference out? Not to provoke guilt. Not anger, either. So why?

Kurama had been reading peacefully for several minutes before Hiei considered that perhaps Kurama had said it just to throw Hiei a curveball, and earn himself a respite while Hiei tried to figure him out.

Hiei started to scowl, then stopped himself, mindful that just because Kurama didn't appear to be paying attention to him didn't mean it was true. "Yes, I would have."

His comment was several minutes late, but Kurama didn't need any reminder as to what it was referring to. He didn't look up from his book, but Hiei, watching carefully for it, saw the slight tension enter his hands. Kurama was very good at controlling his face, but Hiei was aware of his giveaways. "How much do you trust me?" Kurama asked mildly, without looking up from his book.

"Not enough," Hiei replied ruefully. Not enough to be allies, and too much to be enemies, and unable to figure out what options that left him.

"Is it so great a secret? So dangerous for me to know?"

"I'm enjoying watching you try to figure it out."

Kurama gave him a mildly annoyed glance. Then he did a double-take, a look of shock and anger crossing his face. Hiei stared back, nonplussed. "You unbearable ass," Kurama snarled.

"What?" Hiei was fairly sure Kurama wasn't reacting to his last statement. "What did I do?"

"You expect me to figure this out. Not why you didn't kill me, but this." Kurama stood, gesturing between them, the book he'd been reading toppling to the floor. Hiei made a mental note that this was the second book to hit the deck in his post-betrayal interactions with Kurama--perhaps he'd better start keeping tally, see if he could get the fox to toss his entire library. "All of it. Our relationship. What to do now. You expect me to fix this for you, without your help. Oh, sure, you'll lend me your presence--you'll show up and act irritating, that's your side of it. And then you expect me to take that and figure out where we stand and what we should be. You think I'll just keep working at it and working at it until I understand it, and I'll tell you, and that will be that."

Hiei hadn't exactly thought it out that way--but as Kurama spoke, he felt the pieces falling into place. It made sense; it was the reason Hiei had felt an instinct to keep pushing Kurama. Kurama was logical, intelligent, and fond of diving into the kind of twisty emotional puzzles that made Hiei run for cover.

Hiei shrugged, pretending to be unaffected by this realization. "Well, you are supposed to be the smart one."

Kurama gave him a calculating look. There was still a trace of anger in his face, but Hiei wasn't worried by it. Kurama had two types of anger: the type that exploded and was gone within minutes, which Hiei frankly enjoyed watching, and the kind that was so cold Hiei could scarcely detect it, which was deadly. This had been entirely the first kind. "So you do trust me," Kurama said.

"Hardly."

"You trust me to figure this out. And our relationship is the most important thing in your life right now."

"I didn't--"

"No, you said it yourself. You're confined to the city with nothing to do but seek out my company, and we have to learn to work together again. It's of paramount importance. And you're relying on me to figure it out." A smile was slowly spreading across Kurama's face, an awareness of victory suddenly stolen. "That's... interesting."

Hiei found he had nothing to say. "I'm flattered," Kurama continued, now wearing the expression Hiei thought of as fox-in-the-henhouse. "I'll try to live up to your trust."

"I loathe you." Even Hiei could hear the resignation in his own tone.

"Loathe you too," Kurama said, with the casually fond tone that most people said "love you too." Hiei wouldn't have been surprised if it was deliberate.

In total disgust, Hiei did the only thing he could and left. He was many miles away, sitting in a tree in the park and brooding, before he realized that by leaving and thus ceasing to annoy Kurama, he had given Kurama another victory.

Tonight's round goes to the fox, he thought ruefully. It didn't bother him as much as it should. He didn't like to lose, but it wasn't like there would be no opportunity for a rematch. There would be a long, weary string of battles like these, for as far as he could see, until they negotiated a more stable truce or until one of them snapped and tried to kill the other. Hiei wasn't laying bets on which one it would be.


Chapter 3: Guilt

Notes:

Apologies for this chapter coming out a little short :(

Chapter Text

"You should probably just tell me what you're doing."

It was the first time Hiei had spoken in nearly an hour. He was sitting in Kurama's windowsill, watching him work. Kurama wasn't sure if Hiei was still on his weeks-old campaign to annoy Kurama with his presence, or if he genuinely didn't have anything better to do. "Homework," Kurama replied absently.

"That's not what I mean."

"Well, what do you mean?" Kurama asked, not looking up from his equations.

"Don't think you're the only one with contacts in this city. I may not know what you're up to, but I do know when you start calling in favors. We can do this the long way around, but it would save time if you just told me what you're planning."

"Oh. That." Kurama had been waiting for Hiei to ask this question. He marked his place in his notebook before closing it and turning around to face Hiei. "I've been looking for Yukina."

Hiei carefully controlled his expression, not betraying a hint of surprise. Kurama experienced a fleeting wistfulness, thinking of how much emotion Hiei used to allow him to see. "Why?" Hiei asked.

"To help you." Hiei gave Kurama a look that said that explanation was not going to cut it. "And also, because you and I need a project."

"Why?"

Kurama shrugged. "I'm bored. Also, Yusuke's done with his training in about four months. Do you want to know where you stand with me before meeting him again? Or not?"

Hiei paused, then nodded, acknowledging Kurama's point. "What have you learned so far?"

"Not much, I'm afraid. Certainly nothing particularly helpful." Kurama gave Hiei a measured look. "It would help if you told me everything you knew about her disappearance."

Hiei frowned slightly, slouching a little in the windowsill. "What makes you think I haven't already? All I know is that she's in this world. Every rumor I trace is a dead end. You were there for the last one."

"You must have some reason to believe she's in the area," Kurama pointed out. "You haven't looked too far from here."

Hiei gave him a look Kurama could not interpret--incredulity, maybe, or surprise. He said nothing. Kurama pulled a map out of his desk drawer and showed it to him. "I've marked all the places I know you've investigated, and circled the area they comprise. If I've left anything out, you would benefit from telling me. I do have one rumor in this area we could look into, but it's quite unlikely to be her."

Hiei looked down at the map of Japan Kurama was pointing to. "And... what size is this world?" he asked, sounded disconcerted and somewhat hesitant.

Kurama blinked. ". . . Oh dear."

~*~

Several hours later, Kurama had managed to get Hiei a basic education on the scope of the world he had once tried to take over (apparently without much knowledge of its size). He was pleased at the surprising good grace with which Hiei had taken the whole thing. He hadn't acted hostile, he had simply paid attention, absorbing what Kurama said and asking occasional questions. Trusting Kurama with his ignorance. It was almost like before.

The only reminder that it wasn't was when Kurama stopped to make himself dinner and Hiei, as usual, refused to eat. Kurama almost pressed the issue--he was annoyed in spite of himself by what felt like a petulant action. But he stopped himself, because he knew the real reason Hiei wouldn't eat with him had nothing to do with petulance, and to draw attention to it might ruin the brief moment of peace they were having.
They had established truce already; now, comfort with each other and a measure of trust were what they needed to move forward. There was nothing to be gained in pushing Hiei.

Unfortunately, Hiei wouldn't stop pushing him.

Accordingly, Kurama drew out the geography lesson as long as he could, enjoying the respite from the tense silence that filled much of his life these days. Hiei had stopped deliberately antagonizing him at every opportunity, but he was still there: dogging Kurama's footsteps, watching him with a sense of weariness and waiting.

It made Kurama feel guilty. He was the cause of Hiei's current confinement. And then the guilt made him angry; he had been more than justified in betraying Hiei. But that didn't change the fact that he'd done it. He'd used Hiei's youth, inexperience, and trust in Kurama against him. In short, he'd used his knowledge of Hiei to screw him over, just as he'd done so many times before with so many different people. Only now, in his new life,  was he starting to realize this was something a true partner would never do, no matter what the situation.

But a true partner wouldn't have put him in the situation Hiei had, either.

"I expected it to grow leaves by now," Hiei commented.

Kurama glanced at him, startled out his thoughts. "Hm?"

"That paper," Hiei said, gesturing to the map spread out between them on the floor. "Usually when you watch something so intently for so long, it blossoms."

"I apologize. I was distracted. We can move on to another map."

"What were you thinking about?"
Kurama hesitated, thinking of possible answers. But Hiei's eyes narrowed slightly, showing he'd noticed the hesitation, and Kurama decided a lie would be detected. "You."

"What about me?"

"Why did you decide to steal the three artifacts?"

"Again?" Hiei said, an expression of displeasure on his face. "We've been over it, fox."

"Not to my satisfaction. I can't believe it was just a matter of opportunity or timing. Something provoked you."

"Since when, Kurama, have you needed more than an opportunity to justify stealing something of great value?"

"But it wasn't my idea. It was yours. You're not a thief, you're a warrior."

"But my partner was a thief," Hiei said, his tone bitter. "The best thief Makai has ever seen. I wanted to see what we could do using both our strengths." He met Kurama's eyes, a small, grim smile on his face. "I suppose I found out."

Kurama took a deep breath and let it out slowly, fighting two impulses. The first was anger, at Hiei's implication that they would have fallen apart no matter what. The second was guilt, at the realization that Hiei's motivation for concocting that awful job had been an attempt to further their partnership. "I suppose so," Kurama said evenly.

Heavy silence lay between them. The mood was irrevocably altered. After a moment's consideration, Kurama got up to gather and put away the books and maps they had been using. "I am also trying to find out what we can do together, now. But you'll notice I'm trying to save the woman you care about, not obliterate her entire race."

"I know." Hiei didn't look at him, or put any expression into his voice.

Kurama continued to put things away. Hiei remained sitting on the floor, staring at it glumly. Kurama was irritated and aching to provoke him somehow, but he restrained himself. When everything was cleaned up he sat down cross-legged on his bed, watching Hiei watch the floor. Was he feeling guilty? Or bored?

"For the record," Hiei said, "these staring matches are getting old."

"I agree," Kurama said. "Perhaps it wouldn't happen if you went somewhere else for a change."

Hiei cocked his head to the side, a habit that gave away when he was considering something. Then he nodded. "True."

Kurama watched in utter astonishment as Hiei, with his customary speed, stood and leapt to the window, then out into the night. It hadn't crossed his mind that Hiei would actually follow his advice.

Belatedly he went to the window, but of course Hiei was long gone. This was the first time in weeks that he'd left at Kurama's request. Was it out of guilt? Was he off to hunt for Yukina? Was he just trying to confuse Kurama?

"Don't get into trouble without me," Kurama said to the empty yard, having a hunch he might still be heard. He didn't make any attempt to follow Hiei's trail. But he left the window wide open.


Chapter 4: Joy

Chapter Text

"We never should have done this."

The two of them were resting atop a rooftop. They were on their way back from investigating Kurama's lead on Yukina--which had turned out to be a total dead end, as the fox had predicted. "It may not seem like it, but it did serve a purpose," Kurama said apologetically.

Gazing out over the city, Hiei wondered if Yukina was within his sights. His instincts still told him she was near. But how was he to know what 'near' was, in a world so large? "No. It was no challenge." There had barely been a need to draw weapons. Hiei was somehow unsurprised to find his ability to fight alongside Kurama undiminished since their falling out. "We could have stayed home and sparred for all we learned."

Kurama paused before answering. "I'm genuinely sorry, Hiei."

Hiei knew that Kurama meant their failure to locate Yukina, and not just the lack of practice the attempt had provided. Furthermore, he knew the fox meant it. That was just the way Kurama was. He could disregard any amount of tension and conflict in order to deal with something close to the heart, and then resume the old conflict when the situation had passed. For a master thief and manipulator, he was surprisingly compassionate.

A trait that must be to Shiori's credit. He never could have lived so long like this in the Makai.

Thinking of Shiori reminded Hiei of something. Something he had realized, in the past few weeks, needed to be clarified. Now, while the fox was feeling bad for Hiei, was as good a time as any to bring up what would surely be an explosive subject. "Fox," Hiei said, without preamble. "Your mother." He didn't look up, but he could feel Kurama's surprise. "It mattered, you know. What was happening with her." Hiei tried to pick his words carefully, trying to imply neither more than less than he felt, and in the end found it nearly impossible. "It would have mattered to me."

He had known Kurama would not reply immediately. When Kurama was surprised, he tended to refrain from speaking until he was back in control of his tone and words. But he had expected that when Kurama showed him a reaction, it would be anger. What he got was curiosity. "If you had known a way to save her, would you have told me?"

Hiei had to think about what he would have done; then, he had to decide whether it was wise to answer truthfully. "Possibly not," he acknowledged. Kurama nodded, showing no emotion. "But it would have mattered," Hiei stressed.

"In your position, I don't think I would have told me," Kurama admitted. His expression was distant. "In fact, I am almost certain I would not have. You see, I understand what you were trying to do with that mission."

"Do you," Hiei said, looking away from him.

"I think I do now, yes. Needless to say, this information would have been much handier several months ago."

You would have betrayed me anyway. Hiei drew the breath to say the words, but he hesitated. Why? There was no reason to spare Kurama's feelings, or to try to prevent an argument between them. Yet the words didn't come.

"And yes," Kurama said, near enough to Hiei that his quietest tone carried over the noise of the city. "Had I known, I still would have betrayed you."

Hiei glanced at him and smiled, suddenly feeling much more at ease. They understood each other, and his statement about Shiori had been accepted. "Who's the telepath now, fox?"

"You're not difficult to read."

"Then what am I thinking now?"

"That it's time to get going again."

"And now?"

"How unlikely it is that I'll guess what you're thinking three times in a row."

Hiei laughed. Kurama smiled in response. Hiei almost felt himself growing warm toward the fox, but he turned quickly away and squared his shoulders, sobered by his own reaction. "Let's get moving."

~*~

Later that night, sprawled on his bed, Kurama asked, "What do you think Yusuke will be like?"

"Why are you asking me?" Hiei replied from the windowsill. "You're the one who had more interaction with him."

"Didn't you go inside his head once? Speaking of telepathy earlier reminded me."

"I used the ferry girl. Yusuke is about as telepathic as a rock." He heard Kurama's quiet chuckle. "You have more information than I do."

"I want your opinion."

"Stupid," Hiei said, giving the first word that came to his mind. "But not too stupid to make use of his resources." The words like you hung in the air between them, as real as if Hiei had spoken them. "Too attached to his friends, powerful for a human, and convinced he's always right. Your turn."

"Stupid," Kurama agreed. "But in a way that seems to work for him. Saving me from the mirror at the potential cost of his own life, for example, or the way he shot you using it. We should all be so stupid. And yes, he knows how to utilize resources, and that does include people. A good quality in a leader."

"Say leader again and I quit the deal," Hiei muttered. "I will not pretend I'm being led by him."

"He did beat you."

"You beat me, Kurama." Because I didn't expect it from you.

"All right, we beat you, Yusuke and I. So think how powerful he'll be with both of us on his side."

"Why are you wasting your time talking him up to me? You know I agreed to do this only to escape prison."

"It occurred to me that Yusuke might have access to resources we don't. Koenma has very advanced spying equipment, for example."

Hiei could see well enough where Kurama was headed, and decided to stop it before it went any further. "I am, whether you believe it or not, grateful for your attempts to find Yukina," he said flatly. "But the day her rescue becomes Yusuke's mission, on Koenma's orders, is the day we fight over it. I won't be beholden to either of them. And I don't trust Spirit World to treat any demon, even an ice maiden, in a way that won't make me killing them necessary."

"You're such an easygoing person to work with, Hiei," Kurama sighed. "I'm thankful every day that I teamed up with you."

"You know the sarcasm isn't endearing."

"And I was so hoping to be found endearing by you. Another day, perhaps."

~*~

The next day, to Hiei’s immense satisfaction, Kurama suggested sparring in the backyard. He had made several plant modifications years ago which would ensure them privacy until his mother came home from work. Although Hiei still felt a hint of unease at the idea of fighting Kurama, even in sparring, he agreed readily. The skirmish the day before had proved that they needed no practice as a team. The only way to prepare for whatever Spirit World asked of them was to face each other.

The first few attempts were awkward and stilted. Neither of them mentioned it. There was no need to discuss why. Their silent agreement to work through it helped more than any words would have, and before long familiarity caused them to loosen up, commit their bodies more to the movement and talk freely about what was happening. To Hiei, it felt like the return to health after a long illness.

It also helped his mood that he was winning.

“You ought to have fixed that hole in your guard by now,” he commented as he landed a few yards away from Kurama, having just won his fifth point. “Anyone who fights you more than once will know to aim for the stomach.”

“It’s not entirely my fault,” Kurama said acerbically. One hand was pressed to his abdomen, but Hiei was using a practice sword, so he knew he had inflicted nothing worse than a bruise. “Some of us have more to guard than others. We aren’t all as... compact... as you.”

“A low blow, fox.”

“It would have to be, if I wanted to connect with you.”

Hiei chuckled. Kurama looked annoyed that he hadn’t succeeded in nettling Hiei, which made Hiei grin widely. “All right, let’s go,” Kurama said crisply.

Hiei attacked immediately. He knew he would have to, or Kurama would just stand there looking innocent, and before Hiei knew what hit him he would be encased in vines. Hiei went into a quick series of movements meant to confuse Kurama, hoping to get to the point that Kurama could not see him. When the rose whip licked at his heels, Hiei grabbed the end and pulled.

Anybody who fought with a whip knew better than to resist that kind of attack and thus be thrown off balance. Kurama’s options were to follow the movement or let go of the whip. He did the first, somehow using the momentum Hiei had given him to leap into the air. Two of Kurama’s fingers tapped Hiei’s neck as he went past--his way of letting Hiei know he could have planted a seed which was too deadly to use in practice. Hiei scowled--point for the fox.

As Kurama landed, he suddenly let go of the whip. Without Kurama’s energy sustaining it, Hiei was left holding a rose. But Hiei was ready for it. Without quite knowing how, he’d guessed that Kurama was going to use the sudden weight shift from tugging on a whip to holding a rose to get Hiei off balance. When Hiei didn’t falter, Kurama frowned slightly, giving away just a moment of hesitation. Before he had a chance to rethink his strategy, Hiei had lunged forward and put his sword’s point against Kurama’s abdomen. “Fox, I’m serious about this. You need to fix it.”

Kurama looked down at the wooden sword, then up at Hiei. “You know, I might have a flashback here in a moment.”

They were in exactly the positions they had stood in at the warehouse, the moment they had each viciously wounded each other. Echoes of the emotions Hiei had felt then came to him--shock, horror, anger, satisfaction, all mingled together. The stroke had never been meant for Kurama.

The emotions washed through him, but he let them go. He was confident that Kurama had only mentioned it to throw him off guard, and so the only feeling he let linger was a vague sense of wonder at the trust that had allowed them to stand in this stance again.  “You just want to deflect my point.”

“Wouldn’t you, in my position?” Kurama asked wryly, gesturing to the sword.

“Other point,” Hiei snorted. “What I said.”

“I’ll concede that I tend to get injured in my stomach. But I am not the only one who lets my guard down.”

Hiei startled. He tried immediately to back away, looking around him for suspiciously lively greenery, but it was too late. He could move his torso and his free arm, but his sword arm and legs were bound tightly with a blue-green vine. He hadn’t felt a thing.

Kurama stepped back, out of Hiei’s range, with that infuriatingly graceful and delicate way he had of moving when he was feeling smug. His smile was utterly loathsome. “Shall we call that one a draw?”

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into standing still.”

“That’s the hole in your guard,” Kurama informed him. “Don’t think on it too much. I’ve never seen anyone other than myself exploit it successfully.”

“Meaning, therefore, that you are the only person I have to kill to prevent the world from knowing about my weakness.”

“Why didn’t you kill me?” Kurama asked conversationally, apparently concentrating on pulling the vines back into a seed held in his palm.

“Never, fox,” Hiei said with a smile. “You won’t get that out of me by trying to catch me off guard.”

Kurama looked for a moment like he might be getting angry, but then he smiled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Shall we go again, then?”

He meant everything--their sparring match, their attempts to draw information from one another, their maneuverings toward stabilizing their forced alliance. And his face showed he was confident Hiei understood all of Kurama’s meanings. “Let’s,” Hiei said.

The sparring went on for the rest of the day without pause, and without restraint, until Shiori came home. Then Kurama put on his human mask and went to interact with her, while Hiei lay on the floor of Kurama’s room, sweat soaked and exhausted  and full of a feeling he could only halfway identify. He only knew that it was rare, and that Kurama inspired it. And that the potential for him to become addicted to it, to be careless because of it, was what made Kurama so dangerous.

Joy.


Chapter 5: Intimacy

Notes:

(I usually don't title my chapters, which makes the chapter titles in this and Arrogance very meaningful to me. I decided to use the same chapter title, Intimacy, for this and the fifth chapter of Arrogance because the characters find themselves in much the same place: testing how far they can push their intimacy, in all senses, before the way things are is no longer sustainable and something has to change.)

Chapter Text

"You should cut your hair."

"You sound like my mother," Kurama said evenly, not looking up from his book.

Even knowing that Kurama had meant to provoke him, it took Hiei a moment to master his instinctive insult at the comparison. He responded in kind. "You look less like a girl when it's short. A little."

Kurama smiled. "I know."

Hiei frowned at him. Kurama was in his usual position at the desk, ostensibly ignoring Hiei in favor of a novel, and Hiei was sitting on the bed. He was there not so much because he wanted to annoy Kurama but because he didn't have anything else to do, of an evening, until Yusuke completed his training.  "Are you trying to tell me something about yourself, fox?"

"I'm not transgender, if that's what you're getting at. I know I get mistaken for a female when my hair's grown out. But it gives me a place to conceal this." Without looking at Hiei, Kurama pulled a rose from his hair.

"Surely there's other places to carry that," Hiei said. He realized with surprise that this was something he didn't already know about Kurama. "More convenient, too, than your hair. Why there?"

Kurama gave his best fox-in-the-henhouse smile. "Oh, that's not my only trick."

He didn't say anything else. His eyes were still scanning his book in a pattern that indicated he was genuinely reading, but there was also enough tension to show that he was paying attention to Hiei.

Hiei thought for a moment. Then he stood up and walked over to Kurama. He moved slowly, not sure how Kurama would react to Hiei approaching his back. They had become comfortable in each other's presence again, able to fight together, converse together, relax together. But it only took a little thing--an unexpected movement, a severe expression, a carelessly incendiary word--to have them both on the defensive. Despite the truce, nothing had truly been resolved.

But for now, Kurama was sitting with his back still turned to Hiei, and something--maybe his scent, maybe some clue of posture, maybe just instinct--told Hiei that Kurama was highly amused. Curious whether he would be allowed, Hiei raised a hand and ran it through Kurama's hair.

Kurama continued to ignore him. He couldn't, however, conceal the natural reaction of the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck rising at the touch. Hiei picked the rose out, and placed it on the desk in front of Kurama. He received the tiniest hint of a smile, nothing more. Hiei carefully ran both hands through Kurama's hair, looking not for something physical, but for the slight tug of chi that would tell him something was concealed.

After a moment, Hiei started to laugh quietly. Kurama's smile broadened, but he still said nothing, ostensibly perusing his book. Hiei fished a small seed out of Kurama's hair and placed it next to the rose. Thoroughly amused, Hiei continued looking for the little chi burst that meant, if he used his own chi, he could summon a seed. He kept his movements gentle, not in a mood to startle Kurama or make him regret permitting Hiei's hands where they could do so much damage.

For several minutes there was nothing but Hiei's occasional bursts of laughter and Kurama's irrepressible grin, as the pile of seeds grew. The damned fox. He knew that, in a situation of defeat or imprisonment, he might lose any weapon he carried in his clothes. But who would think to comb through his hair like this? Of course. Of course he kept his weapons in his hair, and of course he was growing it out now to conceal them better. How had Hiei not known this? It was exactly the sort of brilliant foresight Kurama would have. Add a little showmanship, a vain toss of the head while fighting, and no one would even suspect the real reason he raised his hand to his hair.

And he was telling Hiei about it. Hiei wondered if this would give him any advantage when fighting Kurama, and decided it probably wouldn't. It was just nice to know. A secret.

"Have I found them all?" he asked, when several minutes of combing through Kurama's hair had passed with no revelation except that his hair was in remarkably good condition, considering killer plants were regularly summoned out of it.

Kurama put his book down momentarily to count the row of seeds Hiei had laid out next to the rose. There were twelve. "No," Kurama said, a tremor of suppressed laughter going through him as he picked his book back up.

Hiei scowled. He had been certain he had. He ran his fingers more slowly and carefully through Kurama's hair, searching. Kurama was holding the book up, but when Hiei angled himself so that he could see Kurama's eyes, they weren't reading. Is it that he doesn't trust me? No--if Kurama was going to worry about Hiei's proximity, it would have shown long ago. It would be less than a second's work for Hiei's talons to slice his jugular right now. So something else had made Kurama stop reading. Maybe paying attention to Hiei's progress, amused at his inability?

There was no evidence of another seed. But Hiei didn't believe Kurama was lying to him. He let himself continue stroking Kurama's hair, absently, while he tried to think of a way to look for things hidden with chi that he hadn't already tried.

A memory surfaced, nothing to do with the hunt. Intimacyphobe. Kurama had called him that once in this very room, laughing at the way Hiei kept his guard up when they slept in the same bed. And yet it had turned out Hiei had been right, to think there was much to fear from Kurama. He just hadn't known what form the danger would take. He wondered what the fox of several months ago would have thought if he could see forward in time, to Hiei complacently combing his hair, more at ease than Kurama himself.

Then he remembered a trick he had learned about kitsune ears, one of those evenings when Kurama had been teasing him. A spot on Kurama's head that was supposed to be ultra sensitive. Kurama had yelped and pulled away the time Hiei had touched it, but then he had turned the trick back on Hiei, claiming it was an erogenous zone. He'd laughed a long time at Hiei's reaction. You'll be terrified to touch anyone's head for the rest of your life, won't you, he had said.

Apparently not, fox.

Almost of their own volition, Hiei's fingers crept forward to the spot behind Kurama's temples. He couldn't make himself stop to analyze what he was doing. Gently, one hand on each side, he touched the spot where Kurama's Youko ears would have been.

Kurama went rigid as stone. His voice was monotone. "Why are you doing that."

"I wondered if what you told me about it was true."

"It is. So why are you doing it? Stop."

Hiei stopped. He lowered his arms carefully--Kurama hadn't tried to push him away, but the fox was starting to tremble and radiating anger. Hiei had plenty of experience with a Kurama who was angry at him, bitter or resentful or cold and calculating, but this was different. It was the most intense immediate reaction of anger that Hiei had seen. He had the feeling Kurama was only holding himself still because if he moved, he would attack.

Hiei backed away. He might have done better to move like lightning, be at the window before Kurama knew it. But he decided instead to move slowly and carefully, like someone trying to diffuse a bomb or keep from startling a wild animal.

Kurama did not move until Hiei was most of the way across the room, and then he turned in the chair to look at him. Hiei's stomach swooped uncomfortably at the tight, hateful expression on Kurama's face. "Bastard," Kurama said quietly. "You only did that to find out if I would make you stop. To see if I cared enough for it to matter."

Looking at Kurama's expression, Hiei realized, "I think I wanted it not to matter."

Kurama swallowed. Hiei was shocked to see such a visible sign of distress from him. He should have regained his cool by now, that legendary composure of his. Why didn't he feel the need to hide this response from Hiei? "I'm sorry," Kurama said in a heavy voice. "We cared about each other too much once for it not to matter."

Hiei, still backing away slowly, felt the backs of his knees hit the edge of Kurama's bed and sat down numbly. There was silence in the room. Hiei waited for one of them to come up with the right thing to say, the words that would push them back into the pseudo-familiarity they had established over the past few weeks. Something to sweep the unhealed wounds back under the rug. A statement of truce, a joke. Anything that would repudiate Kurama's naked use of the word care.

Instead, he sat silently and watched Kurama twist the ends of his hair around his fingers--composure grooming. He was flooded with memories of watching the same thing in this room many months ago. Watching Kurama laughing, or crying, or swearing. Waking up in a rose scented bed and knowing that, yet again, his life had been spared by Kurama's skill with plants. Watching him fray apart at the edges as Shiori came closer to death, knowing that he, Hiei, was the only one close enough to see it happening. Lying together at night while Kurama clutched his shoulder, needing an anchor. Hiei could remember planning to take over the world with this man.

"However." Hiei was cautiously reassured by the fact that Kurama's tone was cool and civil. "Since you can't have what you want, you can try to control the options you have left."

Hiei didn't understand him. He looked at Kurama mutely. We used to be able to speak without words.

"What you want is for it not to matter if you touch me," Kurama elaborated. "But it does. Therefore, you should be trying to influence how it matters. What do you want me to feel?"

A hint of Kurama's anger crept through in his last sentence. Hiei reacted defensively. "Why should I care?"

Kurama's expression grew tight again. "Because if I am angry, I might betray you again. Because if I like you, I might not. Because if I like you enough, you can work with me--or lull me into complacency and betray me in your turn, if that's your game. Because you've spent the last several weeks concerned with nothing but how we interact, and you can't pretend otherwise. You've been pushing and pushing me ever since you got out of jail, and guess what? You finally found something that made me push back. So what did you want me to feel?"

Hiei didn't answer. Kurama took a sharp breath, then expelled it. "Go on," he said bitterly, gesturing at the window. "You're overdue to run."

"Are you calling me a coward?" Hiei asked, bristling.

"When you feel threatened, you leave," Kurama said, in the icily controlled tone that indicated he was furious. "Whether that means dashing out the window when I've bested you in conversation, or bringing in a third partner when our dynamic became too intense, or planning a heist that you know has the potential to destroy us. You find a way to leave."

Faced with the accusation that he had engineered his own betrayal at Kurama's hands, words failed Hiei completely. He drew his legs up under him, sitting cross legged on Kurama's bed, and folded his arms.

"What are you doing?" Kurama asked in an irritated tone.

"Proving you wrong." Hiei couldn't face the idea that Kurama's accusation was true. He knew he was pushing Kurama again, but he also knew the situation was not likely to get out of control, not with Shiori due home soon.

Kurama glared. "You want to see if you can get me to physically force you out."

"You might want to stop assuming every action I take is designed to test you somehow," Hiei snapped. "You called me a coward and I'm proving you wrong. You can go to hell with the rest of it."

"You see, then," Kurama said, "that if I had wanted you to stay, calling you a coward would have been the best way to do it."

Kurama's leaps of logic were making Hiei's head hurt. Every action deconstructed to three or four layers of motive and maneuverings--was this was it was like in Kurama's mind all the time? Undoubtedly. Hiei had just provoked him into doing out loud. Kurama was on the defensive, trying to prove to Hiei that he was the better manipulator.

Therefore, the thing to do was ignore it, and try not to be uneasy at the thought that Kurama might have indeed tricked Hiei into declaring he would stay. "Play whatever game you want, fox," he said. "I only wanted a reaction, and I got it."

"This has to stop," Kurama said sharply. "It's all well and good when there's just us around and only pride's on the line, but it can't go on indefinitely. If you push me like this when we're working with Yusuke, you'll find yourself on the wrong side of an alliance again. And you know it won't be on my hands. I can get rid of you without violating parole."

Up until now, Kurama had shown nothing but resignation and amusement at the idea they would be working together again. The switch to a bluntly issued threat floored Hiei. He could only recall one other time when Kurama had warned him like that--when Hiei had threatened to blow Kurama's cover.

When he was protecting something from Hiei.

Hiei did not respond to the threat. They sat silently, Kurama looking at him with anger but without curiosity--without the spark of interest, the desire to solve a puzzle, that he so often had when he looked at Hiei. Now Kurama looked at him with distaste, like the owner of something broken who is leaning towards throwing it away rather than going to the effort of getting it fixed.

When the front door opened and Shiori called to her son, Kurama stood and went to the door with dignity. Hiei had expected a parting glare at least, if not a verbal warning, but Kurama acted as though Hiei was not there. He was confident, even now, that Hiei would do no damage.

Hiei lay down on the bed, feeling weary. There was to be no peace in his life, not while Kurama was in it. An hour ago he had been so far from thinking of Kurama as an adversary as to be running his fingers through Kurama's hair, disarming him with impunity. Now he was realizing that Kurama most likely meant the threat about using Yusuke against Hiei. All because he'd touched the Youko's ears?

Realization dawned on Hiei. The location of Kurama's youko ears, and the effect they had on them, was a secret. Something Kurama had entrusted him with long before the betrayal. And it wasn't something Hiei had learned on his own through being Kurama's partner, like knowing Kurama's best plant attacks or understanding the way he thought. It was simply a vulnerability that Kurama had exposed to Hiei. Just like permitting Hiei to touch Kurama's hair and hunt for hidden seeds had been a secret freely given, for no other reason than Kurama wanted to. By utilizing those secrets to provoke a reaction in the trust games they were playing, Hiei had crossed a line.

And Kurama had not seen it as curiosity; he had seen it as an attack, and a cruel one. Hiei needed to find a way to convince him otherwise. He refused to fight over something so ridiculous.

No. That wasn't true; it wasn't ridiculous at all. No one but Kurama had ever given Hiei secrets. Hiei didn't like feeling like he had treated them badly. And if he was honest with himself, he didn't want to be back at square one with Kurama. He was tired of animosity and mistrust. And so was Kurama, if his anger tonight said anything.

"Very well, fox," Hiei said aloud to the empty room. "I'll be the one to call for the end of the game."

Chapter 6: Test

Notes:

(I meant for this story to alternate POV's like Arrogance, but it wound up being mostly Hiei's. If I ever get around to writing the next installment, I guess I will have to give the fox his turn. I hope everyone enjoyed.)

Chapter Text

You should come up here.

Hiei thought it, but he didn't project the thought into Kurama's mind. Instead he sat unmoving on the bed, composing his thoughts and watching the sky darken through the window. Plenty of lines had already been crossed tonight; there was no need to interject while Kurama was with his mother.

Kurama returned to his room exactly when Hiei would have expected him on a normal night, neither rushing nor delaying their inevitable confrontation. He walked to his desk chair and sat down, regarding Hiei with a mask like expression that proved he was still very angry.

Hiei kept his own posture relaxed, refusing to become tense in response to Kurama's tension. "You want to know why I didn't kill you," he stated. It was not a question. Hiei's withholding of this information had been the most highly contested point of argument between them the past few months.

Kurama's expression sharpened, showing interest, but he did not speak. Hiei took a deep breath. "Because you do your best work with a partner."

Realization dawned slowly on Kurama's face. "And. . .  I repay my debts."

"Yes," Hiei said grimly.

"You knew." Kurama looked thunderstruck, his expression veering between anger and delight. "You knew this would all happen. That I wouldn't sacrifice a partnership if I could avoid it. And that I could have killed you at the warehouse, if I'd meant to end things. But I only injured you enough to save Yusuke's life. So you knew I still valued you as a partner despite my betrayal. You knew I would fix this if you let me."

"Yes."

Kurama took a moment to absorb all this. He cocked his head. "All this went through your head in the split second after you stabbed me but before I blinded you?"

Hiei thought about lying, but decided it wasn't worth it--Kurama would know. "Considerably after," he admitted.

"Then you still haven't told me why you didn't kill me."

"For that split second? I didn't want to."

"That's all?"

"Do I have to have another reason? Or are you the only one entitled to declare 'I like you' and leave it at that?" Hiei asked defensively. "I was in shock and my instincts told me not to cause you any further harm. Afterwards, I realized the way things were likely to play out, and I chose to come to you because I knew you would be able to figure out what needed to happen between us. And you have," Hiei insisted. "I understand your betrayal, you understand mine, we know where we stand and how much to trust. We've said everything we need to except enough. I want to be done with games and tests. I don't want you to assume that everything I do is meant to push you. And when I touch you, Kurama, I really don't want it to matter. But not because I'm nothing to you. Because you're so used to me being in and out of your space, because you trust me to be there so much that you barely notice. That's the way I want it to not matter."

Silence. Kurama's expression was thoughtful, but Hiei couldn't read a positive or negative reaction there. "Fox," Hiei said tiredly when the silence stretched on, "it took me hours to come up with that many words that accurately describe how I feel." He said the word feel with extreme loathing. "I know you can do the same in a matter of minutes. So do me the honor."

Kurama smiled thinly. "I think you overestimate my abilities. But I will do my best."

He stood up, taking the rose from his hair to idly twirl it between his fingers, turning his back away from Hiei to look out the window. An alarm went off in Hiei's mind. This was the stance Kurama took when he wanted to hide his expression from Hiei. He had done it the first night they met; he had done it the moment he decided to betray Hiei. Did he not realize that Hiei knew what he was doing?

"I appreciate your honesty," Kurama began. "And I appreciate that it is difficult for you to articulate your thoughts like that. Most of all I appreciate your telling me why you didn't kill me. It solves a mystery for me. Your reasoning is sound, except for one thing. I left this option open, but that doesn't mean I have to choose you."

He turned. His face was a mask again, even more so than before. "If, as you claim, you believed from the beginning that I would accept you as a partner again, then everything we have gone through the past few months has been false. A set-up for something you thought of as an eventuality. I dislike the idea that you're manipulating me, and dislike even more the thought of what you might be manipulating me into."

There was something wrong--something inherently wrong with Kurama's posture, what he was saying, something that didn't make sense. But Hiei couldn't put his finger on what it was. "Do you think I'm that patient?" he asked instead. "To spend months trying to repair our partnership only to lead you into something? Ask yourself if that's my style."

Kurama shook his head. "It's not. I think you've learned how to do it from me."

Hiei couldn't think what to say to that. "You know me too well, Hiei," Kurama said forcefully. "You know too much about me. I've tried to give you a way to trust me again, but you persist in subtly attacking and undermining me. I don't think you can forgive me. And if I can't trust you, I have to end this."

The rose uncurled into a whip, and Kurama leapt for him.

It was like the first time at the warehouse, with Hiei paralyzed in shock. No--no, this is different. That time he had simply been unprepared for Kurama to attack him. This time, his disbelief in what was happening came from a completely different source.

Hiei made the riskiest decision of his life, and did not move.

The rose whip made contact first, lashing his wrists together without cutting. Kurama tackled him a half second later, pinning him flat on his back to the bed. His free hand grabbed Hiei's hair and yanked his head to the side. Kurama's teeth scraped over Hiei's jugular.

Hiei was still. He could feel Kurama's breath on his neck, the tension of the pull on his hair, the loss of circulation in his hands. It could have lasted an hour or thirty seconds, he didn't know.

Then he felt weight and warmth as Kurama collapsed against him. Laughing.

"You are insane," Hiei hissed angrily. His body started shaking with a flood of unused adrenaline, worse than he had known he could tremble. He couldn't control it. Kurama's hair was in his face and he didn't know if he even dared to move it.

Kurama just kept laughing, his face pressed into the mattress. It was the long, shaky, uncontrolled laughter of utter relief. He actually sounded hysterical. He spoke, and Hiei just barely managed to make out what he was saying between the laughter and the mattress muffling his voice. "That's the way it doesn't matter. That's the way I want it not to matter."

Kurama was dead weight on him, completely limp except for the convulsions of laughter, and the hair was really getting annoying, but Hiei didn't move, telling himself that this was fair retribution for the way he'd invaded Kurama's space earlier. "You're a terrible liar, fox," he commented, doing his best not to sound like he'd just been terrified.

"I'm a fantastic liar and you know it." Kurama finally moved, propping himself up on his elbows and shifting his weight off Hiei. "I'm the best liar you've ever met or heard of. I'm so good at it that I built an empire around it in Makai. And you knew I was bluffing." He smiled at Hiei like this was the highest compliment anyone had ever paid him. "Even with your life at stake, you knew. You trust me, so I can trust you."

"It's that simple?"

"Of course." Kurama's expression sobered. "You'd never betray me, Hiei," he said quietly. "Not intentionally. I've known that about you for a long time. You have too much honor to attack a former ally without warning them the alliance was over--unlike me. So if you trust me, it almost goes without saying that I can trust you."

Hiei had not thought of it that way before, and wasn't sure he liked Kurama's conclusion. What if he was mistaken in Kurama again? Although it hardly seemed possible. If the first betrayal and the last few months of working together hadn't taught Hiei everything he needed to know about staying alive around Kurama, he deserved to be killed.

Kurama shifted so he was lying on his back next to Hiei. Their arms were next to each other and Hiei could feel Kurama's shaking, which pleased him. "I guess I should clarify, I agree with everything you said. You're through pushing me, then?" Kurama asked.

"I know what I need to. You're done manipulating me?"

Kurama looked at him with surprise; Hiei tried to keep his face deadpan, but it didn't work. Kurama chuckled, and Hiei couldn't help a grin. "Never," Kurama acknowledged. "But I promise to play nice."

Hiei raised an eyebrow. "What you just did, that was playing nice?"

"I'm sorry. I had to be certain."

Staring at the ceiling, Hiei allowed himself to wonder, "What would you have done if I hadn't known you were bluffing?"

"I'm trying hard not to think about it. I advise you to do the same."

After only a moment's reflection Hiei realized that this was the wisest course. The odds against the current outcome had been immense; no use thinking about what might have been.

Something touched his palm--Kurama's fingers, barely brushing against his skin. At first Hiei thought there had been no meaning behind the touch, but then he realized Kurama had left something very small and light in his hand.

Hiei held the seed up to look at it. "Last one?"

"Last one," Kurama confirmed. "You were very close to finding it."

Hiei examined the seed. It didn't look like anything special, but then, he was used to seeing these things when they were fully grown and snacking on someone. "You're unarmed, then?"

Kurama made a noncommittal noise, which Hiei interpreted as meaning, well, I don't have any seeds on my person, if that's what you mean. Hiei grinned. "I'm keeping this."

Kurama turned his head to look at Hiei. "What for? Planning on learning to summon?"

Hiei had planned on relenting if Kurama protested that the seed was rare or valuable, but his placid reaction showed Hiei that it was something Kurama could replace easily. "Trophy," he said smugly

"Keepsake," Kurama countered, smiling.

Hiei glared at him. "Trophy."

"Favor. Token. Memento."

Hiei flicked the seed back at him. "Nuisance."

"Bad sport."

Hiei glared but did not say anything. Kurama's soft laughter filled the dark room, reminding Hiei that he might have won the battle but he would never, ever win the war--Kurama would always be twisting his victories into something Hiei hadn't intended, forever catching him off balance.

He could live with that.

~*~

Hiei couldn't remember falling asleep. When he woke up he was still lying sideways on Kurama's bed and sunlight was streaming through the window. Kurama's absence was all the proof Hiei needed of the change in their relationship. If Hiei had still mistrusted Kurama on some level, he would have woken when Kurama moved.

Kurama had not only gotten out of bed and presumably ready for school without waking Hiei, he'd managed to return the seed to Hiei's palm. Hiei looked at it dumbfounded for a moment, before saying "Huh," softly, and putting it in his pocket.

~*~

That afternoon, Hiei was summoned to Koenma's office by a nervous looking ferry girl. Kurama was already there when Hiei arrived, and from his uniform Hiei guessed they'd taken him straight from school. "Cut the timing a bit fine on figuring things out, didn't we?" Hiei said telepathically.

"I don't like space between one adventure and the next." The slight hint of a smile on Kurama's face was all the acknowledgment he gave of their mental conversation; he appeared to be perfectly focused on what Koenma was nervously telling them. Something about a demand and an insect invasion and--the Saint Beasts? Koenma must want them dead. Well, it might not be impossible--Hiei wasn't counting on much help from Yusuke, but he and Kurama stood a chance.

While Koenma prattled nervously and lackeys swarmed around them, creating the portal they would shortly be shoved through, Hiei went to stand shoulder to shoulder with Kurama. Casually, he transferred a seed from his pocket to Kurama's.

"Already? I thought you might keep it awhile."

"It's a different seed, oh great plant master," Hiei informed him smugly. He caught Kurama's expression of surprise as he subtly fingered the seed. Hiei had spent most of the day looking for something rare. "See if you can make something of it."

Kurama grinned. "Interesting curveball."

Hiei couldn't keep from grinning also. They were back to curveballs, not tests. At last. And not a moment too soon.

Koenma broke off his nervous explanations to look at them suspiciously. "What are you two grinning about?"

"Just glad to be of use," Kurama replied blithely. Hiei smothered his laughter.

Koenma's eyes narrowed, darting between the two of them. "He thinks we're up to something," Kurama said, managing to make his mental tone sound wounded.

"Aren't we?"

"We'll see."

Kurama gave Hiei a conspiratorial look, and then stepped forward to the portal. Hiei was only too happy to follow.

END