“Let’s Fly as the Birds Do…” Chapter Nine

5/22/01 (picked up again on 7/17/01)

By: Hikari

E-mail to: [email protected]

Site: http://www.geocities.com/hikari_nanase/

Notes: Music theme to chapter: “Age of Loneliness” By Enigma.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Ever tasted blood before? No? That’s strange; if you’re human you must have tasted it at least once… That’s the way it is. We feed upon others. It’s natural, do not be afraid. We stab at each other- survival of the fittest… Words are the greatest weapon. They’re sharp, and yet so jagged it stings as they soar out of another’s mouth. See the red? We have stabbed him upon his back. Are you enjoying it? I know I am… Watch him suffer… Isn’t this fun? Oh look, he’s crying. I love the taste of blood, especially the kind that is shed unobserved by eyes…

 

            If you think you’ve never pierced someone on the back before, then you must be lying to yourself…

 

            No one is perfect- better to admit our weaknesses now than to be blind of them.

 

            After all… We are all the same… only different.

           

~*~*~*~

 

            Watching him sleep. He enjoyed watching him sleep. Kurama’s breathing had always been one of the hushed, peaceful kind. Little breathing- with slender lips just barely parted. The sight of him at night nearly made Hiei thirst with ardent yearning. However, rather than abusing an opportunity, the demon kept strong vigil. Often, he would spend hours simply gazing at his face. It had never occurred to him before how much value another person’s face meant. In the past, it used to be only him. Naturally, you cannot see yourself, save for the infrequent glances at a mirror or any other reflective object. If you cannot see another’s face besides your own… that is, forward and looking straight at you, what definition may you give to yourself other than loneliness? There is none…

 

            Solitude. The very word used to be the youkai’s own companionship. It wasn’t as though he couldn’t tolerate it- but the very feeling- the very consciousness of being totally self-reliant grew tired on him. It ached to see others indulge in the warmth that surrounded them… The heat of a body… on a familiar and affable level- what was it like?

 

            …Then he became a part of the Reikai Tantei…

 

            A group member was what he was, albeit a quite unsociable one. Accepted. Not entirely accepted, but it was generally the same thing. The first to trust him was Urameshi Yusuke, but even before him, there was Kurama.

 

            That could explain why it hurt so much when his friend had betrayed him for the first time. The Youko’s blood had splashed across his face at will. He threw his own blood at him- hitting him in the eyes and rendering him helpless for just enough time to aid Yusuke. Emotion had never riveted his body before; experiences of anger, wrath, disbelief, confusion, and so much more he could not grasp or put into lexis engulfed his sanity. For a moment, Hiei was paralyzed.

 

At this thought, the demon grinned smugly to himself.

 

“Hn.”

 

            The redhead had taught him to forgive against his well-developed tenacity. That alone outweighed the act of betrayal…

 

            “…What are you not telling me…?” He whispered while embedding his head within a pillow. “… Was it something I did…?”

 

*****

 

            A heavy textbook fell from the locker and landed with a ‘plop’ on the spotless floor. Shuiichi groaned and knelt to pick up the book, when someone stood over him. The redhead squeezed his eyes shut- wondering what more his peers could do to him. Yesterday’s incident had taken him entirely off guard, but now dread was something he’d have to face day after wretched day. The problem was, today was only day two…

 

            “Here, let me help you with that…”

 

            Kurama didn’t bother to thank in advance, nor did he look up to show his visitor the hurt he was bearing. He knew what was going to happen- it would be the fourth time today, if he had counted properly…

 

            As anticipated, the student kicked the book, and it went sliding along the floor until it hit clear across the other side of the hallway.

 

            “Faggot…” He muttered, inserting his hands into his pockets, and then he strolled casually away.

 

            Sighing miserably, the redhead stood to walk towards his text. His only hope was that no one else would take liberty in this instant. To his dismay, when he bent down again, a new  ‘someone’ did the very same thing. The book clanged against a locker wall.

 

            “You oughta’ keep your crap off the floor, Shuiichi. Gets in people’s way…”

           

He knew that voice, he knew only too well.

 

            “Hello, Haru. I didn’t expect you to follow what everyone else was doing- has it become a trend?”

 

            Haruhiko raised his thick eyebrows maliciously- knitting one down in the most daunting way. “My, your voice has become so cold. Don’t tell me you didn’t get any last night…”

 

            Standing, the other gave him the most profound stare as yet to be ever seen. His eyes penetrated into Haru, almost boring holes into the pupils of his own eyes. Kurama didn’t blink- he didn’t blink at all. He just stared… that icy, deadly… stare…

 

            “Don’t look at me like that.” His classmate said a little warily. “People will think we’ve got something going on...”

 

            The redhead said nothing. He held Haru where he was at with his mere gaze- a harsh gaze. It was scary. That was particularly odd because he hadn’t ever expected to be afraid of Minnamino Shuiichi- of all people. The clemency that was once there somehow faded away into nothingness. He couldn’t avoid swallowing in secret.

 

            “I should hope… that you are not like the others, Haruhiko. I’ve thought of you to be different…”

 

            He loosened; Shuiichi’s tenderness was still there. So long as he had this characteristic, he had nothing to worry of in him. Although Haru had no personal background on Shuiichi, he could read him perfectly by his actions: trustworthy, intelligent, compassionate, and for better or worse, unselfish. The last trait would easily be manipulated and exploited. Then again, who really knew anything about him?

 

            “Heh’ YOU’RE the one who’s different.”

 

            A smile gradually drew its way on Kurama’s face. “That’s… nice to know…”

 

            “Che’. Pick up your book before another guy kicks it…”

 

            “Yes… Thank you…”

 

            Grunting boisterously, Haru slipped his schoolbag under his arm and headed off to his next period. Kurama watched him walk away- shaking his head dimly at the other’s attitude. ‘Always in bad temperament…’ He thought, finally seizing the book from the ground at last. ‘I wonder what could be bothering him…’ The reflection would have continued further if the third set of bells hadn’t set off in its regular chime. So instead of continuing to mind over the ‘class jerk’, he organized his homework in the hall in preparation for world history.

 

           

The doorknobs ‘clack’ seemed more amplified than usual as he entered the quiet room. The majority of the students shifted in their seats to greet him with impassive faces- sometimes glaring. The redhead stooped his head over apologetically- a simple gesture given by the teacher as a sign of excuse for tardy. When he took strides down the aisle in semi-forced confidence, Kurama noted his sensei writing something on the roll sheet in bright red pen. As far as he knew, red pens never meant anything good, and without a doubt, whatever note was taken must have been for him.

 

It then dawned on Kurama just how far the gossip had been taken. Evidently, the whole faculty must have gotten some word of the scandalous e-mail. What astounded him, however, was the fact that even adults were being dragged into the company of chauvinistic submission. It disturbed him. He couldn’t see how it was possible for teachers to be partial on any kind of socialistic group- in regards to students themselves anyway. Of course, there was always the ‘teacher’s pet’, a name he had taken for the past so and so years. If they had favorites, then they had to have nuisances too. To think it only took Kurama one day to shift from opposite sides of the spectrum.

 

“Please open your textbooks to page 386…”

 

They all obeyed- reaction to the order very much like clock work and synchronization. The sound of flipping pages filled the room- the occasional yawn or whisper breaking the monotony. The sensei was a visibly old man; his hair was a hue of steely blue since his strands were becoming faded with years. He blew lightly on his bifocals, wiping them carefully while he eyed the class with his brown irises. If the redhead hadn’t known any better, he would have said that his teacher was taking a great

part of his time focusing on him with a quality in his eyes akin to cynicism. Revising his thoughts, Kurama decided that that assumption was also likely to be correct, but it was a lot smarter to not comment on it during the period.

 

“Did all of you read the section last night? On World War II and the Kamikazes?”

 

The class gave a jaded reply of ‘yes’- most of them already prepared for a note and drill session by taking out some college ruled paper. Someone in the back of the class found humor in sending spit wads directly behind Shuiichi’s neck. Kurama made a face at the repulsive feeling of having someone’s saliva on paper dart on his skin. One hit- then two. Then there was three and four. After undertaking several more sticky wads, he turned on his seat crossly- searching for the one with all the ammunition.

 

Two students at the rear of the room laughed to themselves- even at already being caught by their ‘victim’. One of them took out another sheet of paper and scribbled something down on it. Crinkling the sheet into a compressed ball- he chucked it across the room and it landed dead on top of Shuiichi’s lap.

 

Unfolding the paper, the teacher abruptly crept up behind him and snatched the note away. His teacher appeared to be turning an angry shade of red at seeing what was on the wrinkled article. It didn’t take long before Kurama started fearing as to what was on it…

           

            “See me after class, Minnamino.”

 

            “Yes, Yamato-san…”

 

*****

 

            The redhead grumbled something to himself once he was finally released from the classroom. As it turned out, a scribbling of himself giving a blowjob to his own teacher was on the crinkled note. Kurama had to tolerate an hour of hopeless arguing, finally winning the teacher’s forgiveness once he confessed that everything was a set-up against him. Such a claim left him partially relieved and partially guilty. At any rate, at least he managed to pull himself out of dirty water… For now…

 

            A strange feeling was coming over him. He felt… deadly. As he walked around the campus, he felt his own eyes flash at everyone who past him. Amazingly, a few people actually avoided him. Those who didn’t were met with terse words or malignant silence.

 

            He made a turn for the restrooms, and once entering- he gripped onto a sink and faced himself in the mirror.

 

            If he hadn’t known himself- it was possible that he would have been frightened by his own appearance. He wasn’t upset anymore- not the woeful kind, more specifically. Rather, he felt cold rage. That was odd, especially since Kurama found it so easy to keep his anger in check.

 

            “This is all blown out of proportion…” He whispered in a cracked voice.

 

            “Well, what do you expect? It’s the truth, you know…”

 

            Kurama frowned- slowly turning to the owner of the voice front and center.

 

            “May I help you with anything?”

 

            The boy who dropped in stuck his hands in his pockets while he chewed on his toothpick. “Nah, not in here particularly. You know, it makes sense to me now… why you don’t date, I mean… You’ve got someone else.”

 

            “And?”

 

            “And what you’ve got is not natural.” He paused for a moment to throw the pick into the trashcan. “Shuiichi, you probably don’t remember me, but you helped me in trig last year…”

 

            “No, I remember, you’re Suzu Kamiya. So? What do you want to say? That I’m a fag? A freak? Which is it?”

 

            “Calm down. I’m not here to take sides or anything…” Kamiya removed one of his hands from his pants to point a finger. “Let me tell you something- the only reason why this is happening to you is because you’ve got things other guys would die for. Now that the people who’re jealous of you know your secret- they’ll make the most of it and make everyone else hate you. See, if you were a school nobody- no one would care whether or not you were a transvestite, bisexual, homo, or prostitute.”

 

            “Why are you telling me this?” Kurama blinked a few times, actually relieved that this was the first time today he wasn’t being attacked.

 

            “Because… you’re a nice guy. Hell, I feel sorry for you. Plus you don’t need shit from me- I have no right to give that sort of thing to you anyway.”

 

            He smiled at that. It was an awkward moment to smile, but it came out through and through.

 

            “Thank you. I needed to hear that.”

 

            Kamiya waved his hand thoughtlessly in response. “It’s nothing. Just remember, this is gonna last a while… Don’t come to me for help though, I’ve got my own skin to watch too.”

 

            “Mm… High school is ugly.”

 

            “True that, and hey, be careful about what you do. You’re popular- no question about that. Every last action that comes out of you will stick to you like crazy glue.”

 

            “I’ll remember that.”

 

            Nodding, Kamiya waved again- without much emotion- and left.

 

*****

 

            “Hiei-kun, could you help me set the table?”

 

            The demon grimaced, but nodded curtly in obedience. Just earlier he had been hanging around Kurama’s bedroom- or more accurately, borrowing his bed for a quick nap- when Shiori suddenly came in and saw Hiei removing his boots and shirt. They both froze at the sight of each other in utter embarrassment. Shuiichi’s mother even slammed the door behind her the instant her eyes laid on his nicely carved chest.

 

            Quickly, Hiei put his shirt back on, and out of the need of explanations- opened the door to Shiori to apologize. 

 

            ‘Wha-what were you doing in my son’s room?’ She questioned with minor worry.

 

            ‘Borrowing his bed.’ The youkai responded exactly. ‘I came in through his window… I felt a little tired, and Shuiichi told me beforehand he didn’t mind if I came into his room if he wasn’t around.’

 

            ‘Oh…’ Her eyes softened at that moment- a maternal smile glazing her already sweet face. ‘Well, since Shuiichi gave you his permission- I suppose it’s okay…’

 

            She turned on her feet to leave him be, but then rotated before Hiei could find the chance to slam the door on her.

 

            ‘When you wake-up, please join us for dinner.’

 

            ‘Hn.’

 

            As it turned out, he was unable to sleep for long and found himself compelled to go downstairs. Hiei shrugged, grabbing a thick wad of napkins in one hand and taking a bunch of spoons in another. Seeing him, Shiori laughed goodheartedly and grabbed Hiei from behind on the round of his broad shoulders. In surprise, Hiei jolted as he turned to her- his face almost blatantly saying: ‘What?! I’m doing exactly what you asked!’

 

            “I don’t believe we’ll be having twelve guests at the table tonight…” One of her cool hands went to reclaim three-fourths of the spoons taken. “Tell me, Hiei,” She said this with yet another one of her sugary smiles- so that’s where the redhead got it. “Don’t you have dinner with your own family regularly?”

 

            Biting his lip, he gnawed painfully at the question. “No.”

 

            “Well, occasionally then?”

 

            “I have no family.” The demon replied in fiery- his blood somewhat boiling now.

 

            “No family?” Shiori continued with no mercy. “But how can that be? You’re only a boy…”

 

            “I just don’t have one.” His hands fumbled around as he tried to lay the utensils and napkins properly on the table. The table, being glass, clanged loudly as the spoons were strewn messily about the surface.

 

            “No siblings either?”

 

            She just wouldn’t give up. Although the highest of concern was mingled with her words- she had no conception of the fact that she was inadvertently hitting him across the face.

 

            “…One…” Hiei said, this time a little sadly. “She doesn’t know me very well, however… She…” He stopped, to think. “… She lives far away, with another family… It’s impossible for me to reach her…”

 

            “What’s her name?”

 

            “…Yukina…”

 

            “Can’t you call her?”

 

            “I do… sometimes. I would see her- speak to her more if we didn’t have to be separated.” STOP. You are saying too much. Shut up, now- before this woman knows more than she needs to.

 

            “Oh… You’re family has split apart?” She was clasping on tightly to her golden locket around her lovely neck now- treasuring the picture of her husband within it.

 

            “I have no family.” The little one repeated.

 

            Just then, the front door swung open and the sound of bags crashing onto the staircase ensued. Kurama stormed into the kitchen, washed his hands hastily, and finally picked up his thrown duffle and bookcase as he ascended the stairs in heavy strides. The two at the dining room looked at one another speechless. A tacit look in Shiori’s face told the other to check upon her son. In reply, he ran up the stairs- slow enough, however, to not appear as a blur.

 

            Having reached the second floor, he walked down the slight hallway and into Kurama’s room. He was met with a strange scene of having his loved one pace about the floor quickly- dumping his track clothes into the hamper, fixing the already made bed sheets, and the brushing of his teeth- even though he hadn’t eaten yet. 

 

            Hiei crossed his arms over his chest- his head following the other around the room as he quite literally made a hurricane of himself. By removing one arm from a tucked elbow, Hiei formed a fist with his hand and coughed into it. At the small sound, Kurama stopped while still in the middle of removing his pants.

            “What’s wrong with you?” The demon asked. “You looked like the world was coming to an end! Your mother was amazed that you didn’t even greet her when she was downstairs!”

 

            “Don’t talk to me now.”

 

            He blinked.

 

            “Sorry Hiei, but I’m NOT exactly in the type of mood to socialize.”

 

            Socialize? What kind of word was THAT? And to be used around Hiei, no less…

 

            He removed his solid green eyes away from him then- continuing with unzipping his slacks and hurriedly pulling off the top of his uniform. The next thing the smaller knew, his friend was out of sight and the bang of the bathroom door hit the core of his ears. Hiei stepped toward the redhead’s bathroom with ease- his head bending to the side to listen for anything out of the ordinary.

 

            Nothing. The shower door simply banged shut and the blast of pouring water were the only things that could be heard from the other side.