Such a revelation, however, had come too late to save the poor Fox from further humiliation, when Yuusuke dropped by out of concern for his long-absent classmate and fellow Reikai-Tantei.

It had taken some time for the human to stop laughing, even after Kurama had fled to the bedroom in tears.

Arching a brow, Hiei returned with his arms laden by grocery store bags filled to overflowing with carton upon carton of ice cream in a stunning array of flavours. He'd seen women in more television programs then he could care to remember discussing their angst over the sickening confection. And Kurama did seem to enjoy it, himself, whenever they went out for occasional walks. Absently, he wondered how long it had taken his lover to collect all those colourful slips of paper the cashier had gaped at, when he'd dropped them on the counter and walked away.

His soulless stare finally elicited an absent wave from Yuusuke in the direction of Kurama's retreat, and he heard the Kitsune's choked sobs easily through the paper-thin door.

"Out!" he snarled at the detective, and Yuusuke swiped the tears from his own cheeks, struggling still to get his amusement under control.

"But..." Uremeshi tried to protest. But Hiei would hear none of it. It had taken him hours to calm Kurama down. And, now, it would take him hours more.

"I said. Out." he repeated evenly, fixing Yuusuke with a withering glare. "And.tell.no-one."

Sighing, Yuusuke smirked, but conceded with a nod, before hauling himself out of his chair. "Kurama," he called. "I'm sorry, man. Just one of those things. It'll work out."

Shrugging apologetically to Hiei, he grabbed his coat, set the mountain of homework he'd brought from the Kitsune's professors on the bar, and made his exit.

Hiei could hear Yuusuke's muffled snicker, as the front door closed behind him, and made a mental note to vivisect him slowly, when all this was over.

"Kurama," Hiei called through the door. "He's gone."

"Annoying ape," he grumbled sotto voce, as he absently studied the warming ice cream. When the Kitsune didn't emerge, Hiei sighed, and tried another tack.

"I have something for you..."

There was a long silence. Then, quietly, curiously...

"What?"

"No, Stupid Kitsune. You'll have to come see..."

Another long pause, this one filled with the sound of sniffling, before Hiei heard Kurama padding quietly to the door. The latch clicked, and one watery, green eye -- pink-tinged from crying -- regarded him sullenly through the tiny crack along the jamb.

"What?" Kurama repeated.

"Ice..." Hiei paused, craning his head to read the carton. "cream."

Kurama's nose twitched, as he continued to stare at the demon a long moment. Then his hand snaked out almost too fast for even Hiei to see, snatched up one of the bags, and retreated back behind the implied safety of the sadly-thin door with another click of the lock.

"HEY!" Hiei frowned. That hadn't exactly worked out as planned. "Shit."

Sighing again, he clomped off to the kitchen, tossing the remaining bag absently onto the lowest shelf in the `fridge, before hopping up to sit cross-legged on the counter. Drawing his sword, he set about polishing it, once more.

Four hours later, Kurama finally unlocked the door again, and stumbled quickly out, making a bee-line for the bathroom. Hiei smirked and shook his head, when he heard the Kitsune becoming violently ill, moments later.

"Serves you right, you glutton," he said to Kurama, without looking up from the blade. The Kitsune regarded him with bleary eyes from the doorway, and tried to scowl. But he simply looked too tired, and wordlessly shuffled to the sofa, dropping unceremoniously down on to it and sprawling out with a long hand over his eyes.

"They're smaller," Hiei finally remarked off-handedly, after several minutes of silence.

"Hn?"

"Your breasts," the demon clarified, still not looking over. "They're smaller. All that fuss, for nothing. Stupid Kitsune..."

Brow working, Kurama moved his hand and dropped his gaze to his chest. Indeed, they were smaller. At least, a bit. Frowning, he sighed. After several more minutes, he finally spoke.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Being such a drama queen."

Hiei shrugged. "You always over-react. It's who you are."

Kurama made a small, noncommittal noise, then shrugged, as well.

"Perhaps. But this has been inordinately stressful. And, I over-reacted." He flatly conceded.

"I know," Hiei sheathed his sword and hopped off the counter, wandering over to drop onto the coffee table beside the sofa.

"Are you still frightened, Kitsune?" he asked simply.

Still staring at the ceiling, Kurama's response was just as simple. "Would it make you feel any better, if I was?"

Hiei shrugged absently, before answering. "Not really. I'm just never quite certain with you, that's all."

Kurama blinked at the rare admission, and smiled a touch, before rolling his head to look at his lover.

"Yes, Hiei, I am. Frightened and bewildered."

Hiei simply nodded, and lapsed back into silence. After several minutes, he spoke again.

"Why did the bitch do this, to you?"

Kurama closed his eyes, not answering for some while. Then,

"I gather my Youko-self was someone she had known, long ago. I must have been quite awful, to her."

"She wanted 'payback'" Hiei finished for him, and Kurama nodded.

"So I would assume."

"How odd."

"Wanting revenge?" a brow arched.

"No," Hiei shook his head. "Revenge, I understand. But this...?" he trailed off, gesturing to the Kitsune's altered form. Kurama shrugged.

"I don't know. She seemed far too intent on rearranging my molecules to want to talk about it."

Hiei smirked, allowing his gaze to travel over the Kitsune's body, yet again. He smiled vaguely, dark eyes flickering with devious and wicked thoughts. Kurama had returned his hand to his eyes, but he felt the weight of Hiei's lecherous stare.

"No," he stated wearily. "Not after the day I've just had."

Hiei gave a one-armed shrug and laid his sword aside. "A man can consider. There's no crime in that."

Kurama didn't respond. It took Hiei some moments to realize he'd fallen asleep.