The light creaking of the floor gave the fire demon sufficient advance warning to set breakfast on the table before Kurama emerged from their bedroom and joined him. For the next few minutes, the youko focused all his attention on taking in enough food to convince his body he wasn't starving. Only after blunting his appetite did he slow to his customary, leisurely pace.
He washed down a portion of tofu with a mouthful of tea, then sighed his appreciation. "Morning, love."
Hiei regarded him pointedly. "Afternoon, you mean." So far, the fox had managed to drag himself out of bed in time to go to work, but it was clearly becoming increasingly difficult for him, and he had allowed himself to sleep in, now that the weekend had come.
Not that the youkai begrudged him his rest--exactly the opposite. He maintained that the redhead should let his instinct dictate when to awaken, rather than his human obligations. With that argument on his mind, he reached out to retrieve the empty miso soup bowl.
Kurama took advantage of his proximity to wrap him in a snug embrace. He snaked one hand under the fire demon's shirt to tease the flat stomach. "So how's our little boy doing?"
Hiei wriggled away, leaving the bowl. "I'm *not* pregnant," he growled at the smug youko. It was true. He wasn't, any more than Yuusuke when he powered up. Their child's soul wouldn't form until shortly before its birth. Prior to that, what he carried was a youki potential that would make the Black Dragon seem like a candle flame. The entire ki-sharing process had originally been developed for use as a powerful attack.
He aimed a scowl at his hands. For the next three weeks, he dared not release his Makai fire or use his Jagan. Any drain on his energy would prolong Kurama's ordeal as he replenished what had been lost. It didn't quite make him defenseless, but it was frustrating to consider that fending off an enemy now might take more from him than he was willing to give. For that reason, he spent every spare moment training with his blade. He had to match his fox's constant vulnerability with greater levels of wariness and skill.
The redhead set down his chopsticks, interrupting the mental balancing of strengths and weaknesses. "Do you have any plans for today?"
The youkai considered. He had intended to restock their depleted supplies, but they still had enough of the staples to last a short while, and Kurama's human mother had begun dropping by with food more frequently after hearing the news. The expedition wasn't urgent. "Nothing important," he replied.
"I want us to do something together." The youko sipped at the last of his tea. "All my waking time has been wrapped up in work and school. I hardly even see you, except during the exchange." He gazed into the depths of his cup, perhaps contemplating how much of that preoccupation was due to his own choice. "This may be our last chance to enjoy being alone as a couple. When the baby arrives, we'll be too busy learning to be parents."
Hiei paused in his second attempt to clear away the empty dishes. There it was again, the idea he had been trying to avoid.
Practically since birth, it seemed, he had struggled each day for the promise of living to the next. What existence he managed to carve for himself was bitter and harsh, with so few moments of true pleasure that he soon learned to revel in each victory, knowing how fleeting it might prove. His sole driving force, other than the sheer stubbornness of his will to live, had been the goal of finding his sister.
Aside from that one burning desire, he had no reason to look toward the future. More often than not, the weeks and months that lay ahead of him--if he reached them--would bring nothing but more pain and tests of his endurance. He wasn't *incapable* of devising long-range strategies, they merely had to be grounded in the immediacy of his ambition.
His life had changed these past years, but his basic view of the world remained largely unaltered. He had reunited with his twin, partnered himself to a youko masquerading as a human, and gained more confidence that he would surmount whatever obstacles fate threw in his path. Yet his early philosophy persisted: If it does not affect me *now*, ignore it to be dealt with later.
Thus, he had pushed the issue aside. The possibility of having a kid--it didn't seem real, not even when his blood sang with the power that would one day shape a part of his own flesh into a body for the infant soul. He simply didn't feel like a father.
Though his lifemate appeared to have eagerly accepted their expectant status, dreaming and joking and anticipating the event, he dealt only with the practical necessities of their day-to-day welfare. His mind skirted the matter at all costs, for if he presumed to hope...
Learning to be parents, the fox had said. As easy as that? At least Kurama had a bank of experience upon which to draw and a caring mother for guidance. What do I have? A lifetime of loneliness and abandonment. He had never truly been a child himself; how could he know what to do with the one that would become his responsibility?
He tightened his grip on the bowl he held. His youko was the only thing he could never ignore. The maddening creature continued to look forward, dragging him along into realms he would not otherwise have explored. Teasing. Planning. Worrying, too, but with a brilliant smile that made his anxiety seem a celebration. So it was now, with Kurama blithely assuming they would both make a natural transition into parenthood, while the fire demon sent his own thoughts in circles rather than dwell on the inevitable disappointment when his lack of skill became evident.
"Hiei?" The soft query broke into his troubled musing. "If you'd prefer to be by yourself today, just tell me."
The youkai blinked, reminded that the other expected an answer. In response to the most recent suggestion, he snorted. "If I wanted to be alone, I wouldn't have waited around for you to haul your tail out of bed."
That brought laughter to the emerald eyes. "I'm sorry. I know I've been pushing my limits this past week, but it should get better soon. With the new year coming, I'll have a holiday from classes; I've spoken to my professors, and they agreed to give me extra time, if I make up the lessons afterward. I've arranged matters at work as well."
The information surprised Hiei. Despite his boldly stated opinions, he never imagined the fox would change his mind. "Then you'll be staying home?"
"Until our son is born," he agreed.
That was another point the redhead insisted upon. "What makes you so sure it will be a boy?" the smaller demon asked. He had wondered himself how the baby's sex would be determined, but Yukina hadn't been able to shed any light on the puzzle.
Kurama shrugged. "I'm not sure at all. However," he tucked a bent knuckle under his lifemate's chin, "I love you. I love everything about you. When I picture what our child will be like, I can't help envisioning a little boy as perfect as you."
Hiei searched the other's open face and found only complete honesty. Perfect? he automatically protested. The boy no one wanted?
Yet someone *did* want him now, chose him over countless other youkai. That someone had believed in him, had identified potential in him when he could find none in himself. Perhaps that someone had once again discovered in him what he, in spite of his third eye, was too blind to see.
He might never be considered an ideal father. But, possibly, the kind of father he became would be exactly what that someone needed.
He set the bowl decisively back on the table. He could handle the dishes another time. "C'mon, fox." I'm going to show you the best part of living for the moment.
It had been a long day. Botan rubbed her forehead and groaned. And I still have to take my report to George. The Reikai guide had been up since dawn performing her usual duties, and the day seemed endless.
Oh, well. Once my report is filed, I think I'll go take a nice, long bath. With that thought in mind, Botan hurried around a corner and ran smack into a figure intent on going in the opposite direction. A tall, muscular figure.
Momentarily stunned by the impact, she was confused by the illogical sense of recognition that filled her. Her nose was pressed against an obviously male chest, and she felt the vague disquiet of deja vu. This had happened before.
Then it hit her. "Amiboshi-san!" Botan backed up so that she could meet the Seishi's amused blue eyes. "Gomen ne! I wasn't looking where I was going." The guide mimed hitting her forehead with the heel of her hand. "It's incidents like this that convince Koenma-sama I need a keeper," she joked with a teasing wink.
For about a week and a half she had been doing her best to avoid the handsome young man. She had told herself that she was better off not getting to know him better. Not many people realized just how much the Reikai guide kept to herself. She seemed so gregarious and fun-loving that people didn't stop to think about her lack of any really close confidants. After all, didn't all those in the castle feel that they could go to Botan with their problems? Hadn't she always tried to help them in the past? Yet, it had somehow escaped their attention that Botan's problems were never shared, and, when questioned, they might make the assumption that she had none.
But Botan did have problems, and they mostly centered around her growing need to spend time with the castle's newest resident. She had caught herself daydreaming about his beautiful artist's hands and how much she'd like to take them and...No! She had responsibilities and they didn't include *those* kinds of thoughts! Besides, she had a perky reputation to maintain and she couldn't afford to broadcast her rollercoaster emotions. She was determined to assume the same carefree mask of happiness around him that she wore with everyone else.
Yet, she found herself wanting to tell him about her frustration with the determined old woman who insisted that she "knew what Death was supposed to look like, young lady. And you're not it!" She had spent an hour trying to argue with the elder, until she finally pulled out her oar and scooped the wrinkled woman up on it, having decided that only an audience with Koenma-sama himself would convince her. Or the little boy who thought she was playing a game and wouldn't go with her until she had chased him from one end of the park to the other with her kimono hiked up to her knees, a rather undignified picture for Death to make.
No one was ever privy to her daily trials and tribulations, and it was mostly because she couldn't see bothering anyone with such petty little problems. Of course, the thing she never stopped to think about was that habits she had developed over the centuries combined to create a very lonely life.
"It's all right, Botan. I should have been looking where I was going," the flautist returned smoothly. "Where were you going in such a hurry?"
She sighed loudly as she rubbed her forehead. "I have to go see George and report the results of my missions." The tone of her voice conveyed her enthusiasm for that particular task.
Amiboshi was generally a rather quiet person who made a point of noticing those around him, and it hadn't escaped his attention that Botan's considerable energy seemed to be flagging. He had already realized that Botan was the kind of woman who threw herself into everything she did and saved nothing for herself. Not one to let an opportunity pass him by, he decided to arrange more time with the lovely guide. "Do you have plans for this evening?"
Startled by the question, she shrugged in reply. "No, I'm just really looking forward to soaking in a hot tub for a while. I've had a nagging headache all day."
Firmly pushing aside the unasked for, though highly tantalizing, vision of Botan sunk up to her shoulders in steaming water and covered in nothing more than a scattering of bubbles, Amiboshi coughed. "Would you join me in the garden later?" Tensing slightly, he continued, "I've been practicing a new song, and I would love to have an honest opinion." And it might get rid of your headache.
Botan paused to nibble her lip, and Amiboshi groaned softly to himself. Didn't she realize what that gesture did to men? To him? Someone should warn her for her own good. The Seishi considered that for a moment. Then again, maybe not. She might stop.
"Can I have an hour?"
He relaxed at the hopeful note in her voice. Since he had been discreetly trying to locate her for the past few days, he was willing to give her all the time she needed. As long as it meant he *would* see her again. "An hour," he agreed with a slight bow.
He had started to think that, if she wanted to, a person could live for years in the huge Reikai castle without running into someone she wished to avoid. Except...why would Botan want to avoid him?
Exactly one hour and ten minutes later, Botan was once again hurrying through the castle halls. She was late. George had been too intent on grumbling about Koenma's latest tantrum to notice that she was in a hurry, and she didn't have the heart to be rude and interrupt him. Once he wound down, however, she had hurriedly dictated her report and bolted for the door. She only had thirty minutes to bathe, dress, dry her hair, *and* get to the garden! With no time to fuss, she had hastily drawn her hair up in its customary and familiar ponytail and promptly forgotten about it. There were more important things to think about. Like what was she going to wear, and maybe Koenma wouldn't mind if she broke guide etiquette this one time and used her oar to travel the long castle halls more quickly.
Finally deciding on an ivory kimono with a floral print, Botan finished getting ready and began making her way to meet Amiboshi. Enma-daioh had recognized that his subjects needed a place to go and relax after a day performing their various demanding tasks and had created an elaborate indoor garden for their pleasure. The place had soon become very popular, but Botan was betting that, due to the lateness of the hour, they would be the only ones there.
She sighed to herself. Where had all of her resolutions gone? One minute she had decided that it would be best if they spent as little time as possible together, and the next she couldn't wait to meet him for a late rendezvous. But how could I resist? she argued with herself. The Seishi had been wearing a forest green tunic and dark brown trousers; the ensemble finished off with a light gold sash at his waist and a headband of the same material. He looks so wonderful in that outfit. Of course, he looks good in *anything* he wears, she amended thoughtfully.
Pausing at the arched entrance to the atrium, Botan noticed the melody filling the air for the first time. She crept in silently, not wanting to make any noise to interrupt the music. There, sitting at the base of an enormous cherry tree, was the object of her reluctant thoughts...and he played like an angel.
Utterly enchanted, the guide sank down on a convenient bench. Amiboshi had closed his eyes to allow him to concentrate more fully on his playing, which allowed Botan to stare as much as she liked. The song itself was like nothing she had ever heard before. The notes were so clear and light, it almost felt like she could reach out and touch them as they floated by.
With no notion of just how much time had passed or when she, too had closed her eyes, Botan felt as though her very soul bathed in the music. When the song finally drew to a close, her heart felt as refreshed as her body from her recent bath. She blinked and instantly met Amiboshi's gaze across the garden.
"It was beautiful," she said simply.
Reading the sincerity in her voice, Amiboshi nodded in response to her compliment, his lips curving up on one side. "I've practiced it for many hours." The Seishi stood in one fluid motion and began walking toward her. "You're the only other person to have heard it," he added.
Admonishing her leaping heart, Botan folded her hands in her lap and tried to ignore the butterflies in her stomach. He was so close...
Coming to a halt before the guide, Amiboshi tilted his head to one side and regarded her carefully. "You still have your headache."
It was more of a statement than a question, but she answered it all the same. "Yes. I guess I'll have to resort to one of George's potions to get rid of it." Her pert nose wrinkled in anticipation. The prospect wasn't tempting at all, despite the fact that they were one hundred percent effective, since it was also a fact that the taste was about as bad as the ailment.
"How often do you wear your hair up?"
Botan frowned slightly as she tried to follow the unexpected twist in the conversation. "Umm, every day," she answered, not about to admit that, with her long days, it was the easiest hairstyle to maintain.
The Seishi "hmmed" for a minute then asked, "Would you mind taking it down?"
Nani?! Perhaps if it had been any other person, Botan would have questioned him; yet, knowing that he was completely trustworthy, she reached up and tugged the clasp from her hair.
Silky blue waves tumbled down around her shoulders as she shook her head back and forth. He gently took the clip from her hands and put both it and his flute off to one side. "When I was with the other Seiryuu Seishi in Kutou, I noticed that Soi would sometimes get awful tension headaches. She said it was because she wore her hair up all the time."
Botan smiled in encouragement, and he continued in his gentle voice, "I asked her once why she used the same hairstyle, and she told me that warriors couldn't afford to have their hair used as a potential weapon against them and must bind it up out of the way. Soi was very resourceful, though, one of her personal servants would massage away the pain when it became unbearable."
The guide felt her eyebrows shoot up as she made the connection between the aim of her companion's story and the light blush on his face. "Botan, I might be able to help you."
She nodded once in reply, since actually speaking was beyond her. She didn't trust her voice not to betray her feelings. She had been fantasizing about his hands for a while, and there was no way that she would pass up this unexpected offer to feel their touch. She closed her eyes and listened as he rounded the bench and paused behind her.
Starting with her temples, he began soft circular motions that gradually expanded to encompass her entire scalp. Then, tilting her head gently forward, he used his thumbs to massage smoothly back and forth until he was delicately stroking the nape of her neck.
Ahhh, heaven. She felt like she was about to melt into the bench beneath her and knew that he must be aware of how much tension had been relieved by his touch. They didn't speak to each other, since words seemed to have no place, and when his fingers strayed to rub lightly at the knots at her neck, it seemed the most natural thing in the world to relax and lean back against the supporting body behind her own.
Time floated by in a fog as the Seishi patiently stroked and kneaded away every painful trace of tension. Almost half asleep, she reluctantly came back to her surroundings when he smoothed his hands over her shoulders and down her arms. She tilted her head back against him and blinked up into brilliant blue eyes. "Thank you, Amiboshi-san," she whispered.
It wasn't until later, when she was tucked into her bed for the night, that she acknowledged the demands of her heart. How could she continue avoiding this gentle man who was so unfailingly generous with his time and talents?
Yet, she couldn't ignore the fact that he would reincarnate someday and leave her for the new and happy life that he deserved. Besides, she had responsibilities, and her job as a Reikai guide was of great importance. Did she really want to fall for him even more than she already had? After all, how could Death perform her duties when all she could concentrate on was how empty eternity suddenly seemed?
Amiboshi stared up into the spreading branches of the cherry tree above him. He was lying on his back on the grass with his arms folded behind his head and legs crossed at the ankle. It was the same position that he had been in for the last hour--ever since Botan had left to get some sleep and prepare for the busy day before her. The garden was quiet and the light dim with all but one of the torches extinguished, and the remaining brand threw dancing patterns of light on the surrounding plants.
The Seishi's thoughts were confused, and he knew exactly why. When he had arrived in the Reikai, he had thought only of aiding his beloved twin and then later defeating Seiryuu. Afterwards, he found he could offer his brother the opportunity to experience the loving family he had enjoyed for a short time. Those things had been enough for a while, but then he felt that he should help Koenma and the castle's other denizens in some way to repay them for their hospitality. His gift to them was his music as he helped soothe tempers and bolster flagging spirits. It was amazing to see the sheer quantity of work that the oni tackled every day in their efforts to make the afterlife run smoothly, and he was happy to help in his own way. Even Koenma had noticed the increase in production thanks to his unique participation.
Yet, he was still able to maintain his distance. None of the events occurring around him actually *touched* him...until the day he flew for the first time.
He had almost died that day, but if it had meant saving a woman he had come to respect greatly, it would have been worth it. In the end, however, *she* had saved *him*, and he realized that he wasn't really living anymore.
Well, in a sense he *wasn't*. After all, he no longer had a physical body, since that had been given to Suboshi--although, as George had explained things to him, he was as real and tangible as anyone else within either the Reikai or the Makai. Only in the Ningenkai would he be reduced to spirit form where he could no longer affect the world around him.
But he became aware that he had been content to sit back and take a passive role when it came to interacting with other people. Even his music served to separate him, since people were reluctant to interfere when he practiced, which was quite often.
Amiboshi sighed and recrossed his ankles. Perhaps it was simply that every person he had been close to throughout his life was eventually taken from him. He had lost his parents to the war when he and his twin were little boys. Together, they had depended on each other for all their emotional needs, allowing no other to get close. Yet even that relationship was now reduced to occasionally sharing his brother's dreams as they both slept, the only contact that remained to them.
The Seishi closed his eyes and allowed his thoughts to dwell upon Yuuki Miaka for the first time in a long while. She had been the Suzaku no Miko and forbidden to him, but his heart had paid no attention to politics, and he found himself falling in love with the innocent and irrepressible girl. She had so many qualities that he admired, like her sunny nature and her astonishing ability to forgive. Even when he had betrayed them all and showed them the darker nature of his music, the Miko had refused to believe he was evil.
In the split second that she had risked her life to save his as he hung suspended above a raging river, his heart belonged to her...and he chose to die rather than allow her to fall as well. Later on, when they met up again, he had tried to make her to forget Tamahome with every ounce of skill that he possessed, but it hadn't been enough.
The flautist opened his eyes and breathed deeply. After five years of quiet village life, he had worked through the feelings inspired by the forgotten encounter with Miaka. Yet, here he was, having come full circle. Once more he had met a woman for whom he would rather die than risk hurting. And, with past experience to guide him, he finally acknowledged the truth he had so carefully hidden--his heart was no longer solely his own. How long would it be before she, too, was taken from him?