Yu Yu Hakusho belongs to Yoshihiro Togashi, Jump Comics, and anyone else with legal claim, and unfortunately that's not me! Anyway, I'm just borrowing them, but I promise to put them back where I found them...eventually. Please don't sure me because I don't have any money, and frankly you'd be wasting your time.

There was definitely something strange going on tonight. The air was electric, especially near the park. He didn’t know what it was but there was just a shiver in his bones that told him to be here. Yuusuke rounded a large stand of trees and caught sight of a familiar head of orange hair atop an even more familiar tall gangly best friend.

"Oi! Urameshi!" Kuwabara called out to him, waving an arm over his head. The taller boy wore a strange expression on his face, his lips quirked as he concentrated his psychic senses on the park.

"Can you feel it, Kuwabara?" The boy nodded, still scanning the small clearing, eyes closed to clear some of the sensory input that often overloaded his kinetic abilities.

"What is it?"

Kuwabara grunted, and Yuusuke took that as as much of an answer as he was liable to receive. He frowned and swept his dark eyes around once more, trying to locate the source of the disturbance.

"I don’t know… it’s something weird, though… but I just can’t tell-"

"Kurama." It was a low rumble from near Yuusuke’s elbow and he nearly jumped out of his skin as Hiei appeared.

"Shit! Hiei! Wanna give me a little warning next time?!"

All Yuusuke received for his outburst was a glare out of the corner of one of Hiei’s crimson eyes. He sighed and scrubbed a hand through his hair. He knew he couldn’t win when it came to Hiei being stubborn, so he relented.

"What about Kurama?"

"Where is he anyway?" Kuwabara asked, suddenly noticing the youko’s absence.

"When you find the center of this strange disturbance, you will find Kurama." Hiei vanished in a streak of black and a puff of displaced air.

"Oi!" Kuwabara scowled with his hands on his hips as he stared at the spot where the Jaganshi had stood, leaving without even so much as a fare-thee-well. "Damn that little shrimp-"

"Don’t be redundant, baka," Hiei reappeared on the tall boy’s other side and was rewarded for his efforts by the carrot-top shrieking at the top of his lungs and jumping back a good five feet. He smirked in triumph. "He’s this way."

Hiei turned and walked off towards a secluded area of the park that few passersby ever ventured near, a place that on the outside looked overgrown and unkempt, but Hiei knew that the inside of which was positively magical in nature. A place that Kurama had painstakingly created expressly for this night over the last year.

The three Reikai Tantei reached the tangled mess of vines and branches that formed the outer wall of Kurama’s isolated grove and Yuusuke shivered upon sight of the thick dark flora, chosen for its frightening appearance to ward off even the most aggressively curious.

"We’re not going in there?!" The dark-haired boy peeked down out of the corner of one deep brown eye at the Jaganshi. "Are we?"

"Hn."

Hiei stepped forward and the wall of trees shuddered, thick rustling heralding the branches parting for the diminutive demon. He stopped short and shot a hard glare over his shoulder. "This event requires witnesses that is the only reason you are here." The light in the ruby depths hardened as he turned to regard his teammates. "Do not speak. No matter what you see, do not speak, and do not, above all else, do not touch Kurama."

"What happens if-" Kuwabara started, either oblivious of the piercing fire in Hiei’s stare or knowingly ignoring it.

"Silence, ningen," Hiei growled venomously. When Kuwabara made as if to challenge the fire demon, Yuusuke prudently stepped forward and clamped a hand on his friend’s arm, shaking his head to convey that this was not the time to play their little baiting game. Hiei continued.

"Do not touch him. Remember, no matter what you see, do not touch him and do not speak." Yuusuke could have sworn that the crimson gaze flickered in concern, "If you follow these rules, everything will be fine. If you break them, Kurama dies." The unspoken thought clearly voiced in those eyes finished ‘and you will follow at my hand.’

Yuusuke gulped and nodded, more uncertain now than ever about entering the thicket.

Hiei stepped into the darkness of the oppressive foliage and promptly disappeared, leaving his human teammates behind.

K’so! Yuusuke cursed silently, knowing Hiei was completely serious about the rules he had set forth and with his curiosity reaching nearly unbearable proportions, he stepped through with Kuwabara a bare pace behind him.

The two boys peered around, the wall of the bower was a great deal thicker than they had originally thought, at least a good ten feet of nothing but thickly woven heavily-thorned branches and vines of dark, hard woods. Kurama must have been serious about no one entering this place until he wanted them to. Yuusuke had seen fortress walls that weren’t as thick or impenetrable.

He could practically feel the curiosity burning in Kuwabara. While neither of them possessed Kurama’s kitsune curiosity, the human brand was nearly as consuming, and so they pressed forth in the strange, dark tunnel until they were brought up short by what greeted them at the other end.

The bower was enormous; the inside clearly larger than the dark and foreboding outside led the curious onlooker to believe. Layers of pale flowers of every shade, some of colors that Yuusuke had never seen before, painted the inner wall, their placement giving the appearance of a large mosaic. Small plants whose bulbs glowed blue, gold, white, and green were scattered about dancing like fairy globes as they draped over leaves and branches, casting their faint warm light about.

In the center of it all there was a small fire blazing and shadows leapt back from the flames to dance along the leafy enclosure, playing in the depths of the branches and revealing the grove’s secrets. One smooth, swift movement from across the fire flickered across Yuusuke’s eyes and he turned his attention to see Kurama rising before them, impeccably dressed in long gauzy white robes that resembled more ornate and diaphanous versions of his youko clothing.

He was dying to ask what was going on but promptly swallowed that urge when he saw the look exchanged between his youkai teammates, serious and uncertain, but relieved. He flicked his gaze over to the taller boy at his side and caught the same struggle between obeying Hiei’s explicit rules and burning curiosity in the small dark eyes. It didn’t take long to suppress considering the ramifications of breaking Hiei’s rules.

Kurama turned his glowing green eyes on them and they froze, suddenly feeling all the youko’s years heavy in that gaze. He nodded once; a small sad smile on his face and more subdued than was ordinary for him.

Yuusuke met those eyes for as long as he could and had to break away after a few seconds, unable to bear the simple trust emblazoned in emerald across his vision. He knew that Kurama trusted the team in a fight, it was after all, the reason they fought together, and one of the reasons they made such a successful team, Hiei and Kuwabara’s constant bickering aside.

But this was different. Kurama was knowingly putting his life in danger by doing… whatever it was he was going to do in here, and then placing his life in their hands and trusting them not to move or speak regardless of what they saw. How could he ask that of them? Didn’t he understand that he held a place in Yuusuke’s heart now? Didn’t he understand that Yuusuke’s life would be missing something vital if he died?

Yuusuke clenched his fists at his side, momentarily blinded by a wash of anger at Kurama’s selfishness. Then he caught himself and realized with bolt of painful clarity that it wasn’t selfishness, it was a show of faith. The boy’s dark eyes sought out Kurama’s again and he was surprised to find the redhead studying him, as though waiting.

Kurama nodded slowly, closing his brilliant green eyes for a moment and Yuusuke smiled for him, knowing the other boy understood.

Hiei remained where he was, slightly ahead of the human boys, between them and Kurama with his hand resting casually on the hilt of his katana, silently enforcing his earlier warnings. He watched the kitsune with an unwavering gaze. He knew what was going to happen here and he knew what his responsibility was, as Kurama’s friend and as something more, he only hoped he could do it when the time came.

The Jaganshi’s deep red eyes glanced over Yuusuke and Kuwabara quickly. He hoped the humans would understand. Hiei had been completely serious in his implied threat; if Kurama died tonight because of their foolishness, then he would kill them without hesitation… and yet he didn’t want it to come to that. It wasn’t out of any particularly overwhelming sense of friendship, although he did grudgingly respect his teammates, it was more out of the realization that if he was indeed forced to kill his comrades then Kurama was dead. He couldn’t live like that.

He resented being the one that had to do this, and yet at the same time knew that it was because the youko trusted him implicitly.

He felt Kurama’s eyes on him and he turned to greet that gaze, brain reeling with a hundred conflicting thoughts regarding the youko’s plan. It wasn’t as though he had a choice… well, he did, but it was far better to take this chance than give up without trying. Trying meant certain pain and possible death. Giving up meant certain and instant death.

Hiei’s eyes softened as he kept them riveted to Kurama’s, his entire world encompassed in two bright green gems that never lost their luster in his heart. No, there was no going back now… he could see that, there never was any going back. It was time. He nodded to the fox and stepped back to his teammates.

Kurama smiled softly at the fire demon’s back, grateful for his presence and the promise he had extracted from him. A promise extracted under duress, but a promise none the less, and Hiei’s word was more reliable than the rising sun.

With a last nod and quiet smile to his friends, Kurama moved and stood before the fire, his delicate figure burned into the flimsy cloth by the flames behind him, accentuating the narrow waist and slender hips, lengthening the already graceful legs, and caressing the faery boy’s chest and arms. He truly was the embodiment of innocent sensuality.

Hiei held his breath as he watched the light embrace his lover’s body, desperately wishing he could run his hands along in its path, but knowing that touching was forbidden now, every touch save one. His stomach knotted in apprehension.

The slender arms raised above his head, the redhead began a low, murmuring chant, soft and erotic, that quivered through the clearing. Hiei felt his blood begin to boil and he knew that the humans could feel it, too, feel the stirring deep within themselves beginning at just the sound of Kurama’s voice.

Then he began to move. Just a little at first, with the gentle roll of his head to one side then the other, eyes heavy and dark, and a agonizingly slow lowering of his arms before his already-flushed face, the boy began to dance.

It was unlike any kind of dance that Yuusuke had ever seen before and he was entranced. He watched with wide eyes as the youko lazily licked his fingers as they passed before his face and languidly twisted his hips, arching his back ever so slightly at the same time. He had no idea where to look first, and he had to look. Every fiber of his being kept his eyes roving hungrily over his friend, not truly realizing what effect the combination of flickering firelight, youko pheromones, and a writhing young body were having on him until he felt the insistent strain against his jeans.

Yuusuke flushed hard and clenched his fists in his pockets, trying his best to remember Hiei’s warning from before. Don’t speak, don’t touch. Damn! Even as he felt his face burning with embarrassment, he could not tear his gaze from Kurama’s slow tantalizing dance. He stood transfixed as the redhead rolled his hips in a tight circle and traced splayed fingers across his chest while turning slowly before the fire, bringing his face into view.

The gem-brilliant eyes were nearly closed, revealing only a sliver of burning emerald, flickering wildly with aroused gold. Kurama tilted his head back as his hands slid over his neck and cheeks, and parted his lips with a thick shuddering sigh.

Every nerve ending in Yuusuke’s body screamed out for release in a more refined and exquisite torment then he had ever known, begging the redheaded boy to help him. Kurama whipped his head around and fixed Yuusuke with a glittering golden stare that had the dark-eyed boy rooted to where he stood. He watched in amazement as a thin silver light painted the reincarnated youko, dancing like water over his sensitized body. That much was evident as Kurama trembled and bit his lip as though close to the most mind-blowing orgasm of his life, and whispered a cry when two silver fox ears appeared atop his head and a long, luxurious tail below the small of his back. The youko arched backwards and trailed his nails over his abdomen as his hair lengthened to his waist, yet remained the bright blood red of his human form.

He was the perfect union of youko and boy, youkai and ningen. At last, Hiei thought, biting his lip, it really begins.

He turned to look at Yuusuke and noted that their leader was flushed and on the very edge, he could smell it in the air. A glance past him revealed Kuwabara standing rock-still trying to fight his body’s reaction to his friend’s movements, his brain not quite capable of understanding how he could feel such things for another boy, an exquisite boy, but another boy none the less.

The fire demon snorted and turned his attention back to his lover, thoroughly enraptured by the lithe form enslaved to the pulse in his blood, the pulse that would soon become a screeching howl, blocking out all other thought until this ritual was completed. This was a dangerous time for the youko, for any youko when this day came upon them, but more so for Kurama who was cut off from his kind and uncertain as to whether or not this could truly be done in the Ningenkai. It remained to be seen, but succeed or fail he had gotten Hiei to promise to end it.

Hiei felt his blood racing in his veins as the ritual and spectacle began to affect him. As a youkai he had slightly more resistance than his human companions, but Kurama was a youko, no amount of resistance would have been enough. Not when the Blood Dance started.

Red eyes followed every movement of the supple human body seductively outlined as the light from the fire made love to his form. The howl was growing. The movements, while still inherently graceful, were more urgent now, more demanding, pushing the human body and heart faster and further, closer to the breaking point. He wondered how much of this Kurama would have to endure before the moment of truth arrived.

Yuusuke could heart his heartbeat in his ears, feel the blood rushing through his body, feel the pooling ache demanding satisfaction in his groin. It was too much. He’d never been this close and denied for so long, it was maddening. It was only made worse by the knowledge that he was being aroused by the sight of his friend’s slender body twisting and imaging his own hands tracing the path of the firelight over that flushed and heated silken skin.

Kurama! What are you doing to me?

His body was on fire. He could feel every nerve ending, hear every cell, raging in a cacophony of a thousand voices. The dissonance was almost too much to bear and he was certain that his skin was simply too tight to contain his spirit any longer.

Kurama heard it then, a sweet siren song calling to him, and he turned a full circle, raising his arms high above his head, and began to sing. Softly at first, rather like the chant he had started the ritual with, soft and warm and haunting and distinctly Kurama. The notes rang above their heads seeming to physically fill the space and brighten the little glowing bulbs suspended from the bower’s ceiling.

It wasn’t until Yuusuke felt the need to protect his eyes from the glare that he realized that the plant bulbs weren’t brightening, but there was a globe of pure silver light hanging in the air.

The team, with their eyes still riveted to the ecstatic youko, stiffened as the light flared once to a blinding brilliance, and as their vision returned to normal, noticed hundreds of vaporous figures standing at the edge of the enclosure.

Misty beings, wrapped in smoke and shadow only to vanish as the fire crackled and jumped and reappear again moments later, swirling together and making a count impossible, but there had to be hundreds of them. With the jaunty pointed ears perched atop each head it was easy to tell what they were. Youko, hundreds of insubstantial youko, were watching their reincarnated companion dance around the fire. Watching, and waiting.

Kurama’s heart soared. It worked. It really worked. So far. The rest remained to be seen. He sent a wordless cry of joy to Hiei, knowing that the little fire demon would feel it, as he felt the same marvelously frightening burning along his body, shared the entire experience of this moment, if somewhat subdued.

Hiei’s entire being shivered with sensual delight as he watched his kitsune’s erotic dance and heard the sultry velvet voice singing his joy. His eyes widened as he felt contact with Kurama, a pure undiluted contact, not the shielded mind-sharing they had initiated at the beginning of the ritual. He felt the extent of the youko’s heightened sexual intensity rocket through his body like a bolt of lightening, instantly hardening to the point of pain and desiring nothing more than sating himself with the fox’s flesh, but he knew he couldn’t.

Damn you, Kurama! When this is over, you are mine!

Kurama had known this time would come while inhabiting this human body. He’d been so close to the time of the Blood Dance right before he’d been fatally wounded, close for a youkai, sixteen years for a human. Armed with such knowledge, he’d worked his entire ningen life to prepare for this, hoping his fragile human shell and physiology could withstand the pressures. Tonight he would find out, but for now he reveled in the ecstasy.

His blood pounded erratically in his veins, deafening to his human ears. His body, tormented by a frenzied lust he couldn’t control, moved to a music only he could hear, a music buried in his soul since the very beginning.

Just over the constant hum of his own body in his ears and the increasing howl of his captive soul he could hear them, he could hear the others. By Inari, it truly is working, they’re singing!

The voices grew louder, a chorus of silver chords smoothing over the raging dissonance screaming through his body. Kurama kept dancing, kept grinding his hips to the beat of his own heart, tossing his head to the primal rhythm of his youko companions’ voices, wrapped his arms about his body to the lyrical strains of their rolling chants. He was smothered in the essence of what he had once been, the tall proud Silver Youko whose name inspired fear and respect throughout the Makai.

He realized he still was that creature, that wraith of silver mist and shadow, or the others would not have come, they would not have made the dangerous journey to appear for this ritual in the Ningenkai. They would have witnessed his death.

He felt the pressure building within him, his heart pounding faster than seemed possible, the screeching in his brain painful, the heat spreading from his groin to the rest of his body maddening in its intensity.

The time is now.

::Hiei.::

::Hiei.::

The warmth of the over-stimulated kitsune’s mindvoice shot straight from his brain to his crotch and sent a shudder through his spine that threatened to send him to his knees in ecstasy. As it was he was trembling uncontrollably, precariously balanced on the edge of orgasm, fed and sustained by his constant contact with Kurama. The Jaganshi took a few calming breaths that did nothing and moved forward silently, noting the suddenness of his movement jerking the attention of his teammates to his body.

He could feel their gazes, hot and heavy, as they flickered between him and Kurama, knowing what he would see in their eyes if he turned to look at them. He would see lust, pure unadulterated lust, a passion and desire so deep it was all-consuming, a need so strong to border on desperation; a need for his lover’s body and soul, a need to possess the ethereal creature that tormented them so deliciously.

He snorted contemptuously. No one was good enough for the kitsune, not even him, but somehow that crazy fox had not only accepted his angry declaration of love, but returned the feelings with just as deep and devoted a passion as his own.

Kurama.

Can I do this?

Hiei stopped a few steps from Kurama, whose dancing had lost none of its desperate sexuality as he practically slithered over to his diminutive lover, nearly humming with ecstatic delight at the sight of him. The fire demon looked up into eyes the color of summer gold, eyes glazed with the light of a frantic passion that threatened to destroy him.

::Hiei.::

::Now.::

::Oh gods... Hiei... now.::

Kurama.

He stepped forward one more pace, close enough to feel the heat and liquid desire that practically suffocated the kitsune, close enough to reach out a hand if he dared. But, he couldn’t. He knew that he couldn’t, as much as his body rebelled and howled at him to do so, to sate himself with the taste of his lover’s skin, the feel of his breath, the whisper of his touch, he couldn’t. So he did the only thing he could.

The warm slide of steel against wood heralded the withdrawl of the Jaganshi’s sword and he stood transfixed as the gleaming blade caught Kurama’s attention and the youko sighed gratefully. He could feel the soft exhalation in his mind as it triggered thousands of little blooms all across his nerves. Could he truly do this? Could he truly go through with this?

Kurama’s burning stare caught his and he froze, the lush amber depths compelling him forward. He knew that if Kurama really opened up with his psychokinetic abilities that his powers would be somewhat like his own Jagan, it was not beyond the realm of possibilities to assume that the kitsune could simply ‘convince’ someone to do something, although Hiei was certain his Jagan was stronger. Not that he ever believed Kurama would do such a thing, at least, not to him.

But this situation was different. He was certain Kurama could read the hesitation in his eyes.

The redhead was moving slowly in front of him, swaying his hips in a motion that Hiei knew full well, from experience, drove him crazy, eyes dark and drowning with a lust so palpable that it was all Hiei could do to draw air into his lungs.

::Hiei. Now. ::

Beneath the whisper of contact, Hiei could hear the moans that haunted him while they made love, the gasps that rocketed him to his own limits, the sibilant susurrations that caressed his mind and anchored him while in the throes of his own ecstasy. He knew this was the only moment he was going to have to do this. If he waited any longer, if he looked into those eyes any longer, focused on those wet parted lips any longer, heard those damn sexy pants any longer, he’d lose his nerve. And that meant Kurama would die.

With a deathgrip on the hilt of his sword and a bare whimper low in his throat, Hiei thrust forward; squeezing his eyes shut tight, and pushed the blade straight through his lover’s heart, spilling a brilliant fountain of scarlet blood over the immaculate white robes.

Yuusuke’s eyes practically popped out of their sockets as he watched Hiei impale their teammate on his katana, six inches of gleaming steel protruding from the youko’s back as the fox’s head lolled forward over his chest. The dark-haired boy bit down hard on the inside of his cheek to keep from screaming as his eyes followed the Jaganshi lowering his blade to the ground and Kurama’s body sliding off the blood-slicked length. It took all his willpower not to strangle the fire demon as he rushed to his friends; Kuwabara half a stride behind him, fists clenched tight enough to draw blood from the tender flesh of his palms.

Hiei turned to acknowledge their presence and make sure they stayed quiet and away from Kurama, and Yuusuke could have sworn he’d caught the faintest flicker of doubt and fear in the deep red eyes. Disbelief was scrawled there as well, his entire countenance betraying his usual coolness, as it broadcast ‘What have I just done’ to anyone who happened to look.

::hiei. ::

::arigatou.::

Hiei’s eyes snapped open, and he hadn’t even realized he’d shut them after Yuusuke and Kuwabara had rushed over, threatening to break the rules of this ceremony by yelling at him. He’d simply shut down after that, hardly believing he’d killed his lover, killed the one soul that knew him better than he knew himself. And yet, he’d known what the ritual entailed, he’d known what would be necessary for this to take place, and he’d agreed. He’d hated it, and he’d argued against it, but when Kurama had brought up the idea of going to someone else to do it; then he’d known he’d had no choice.

He couldn’t say no. He never had a chance.

That weak bare contact against his mind as he’d pushed the blade through the redhead’s chest had nearly brought forth the tears that quivered inside, begging him to stop this even though he hoped against hope that the eventual outcome would be what Kurama had promised. He just wasn’t willing to believe that Kurama was wrong and that he might stay dead.

No, he promised me. He promised we’d be together forever. I have to believe.

The light that danced around the misty vapor of youko gathered at the edge of the large clearing began to grow brighter, filling the space with a soothing warmth and sense of tranquility. And it seemed for a moment that the three Reikai Tantei had calmed, until the light coalesced once more to a large glittering ball high above their heads and fell directly over Kurama’s prone bloodstained body.

Three pairs of wide stunned eyes watched as a golden light bathed their fallen youko teammate and he began to glow. His face took on a warm cast, making him seem more alive than ever and softening his features to something bordering on the angelic. The slender body began to rise, graceful limbs dangling in air as he hovered, enveloped in the warmth and spirit of the youko who had joined together to bear witness for this moment. It looked as though he were merely sleeping, and a moment later the perception proved to be right as Kurama stirred slightly.

Hiei sucked in a deep breath. This was it. The moment that Kurama had spoken of. He was right. It was working. Some weight that had settled in his chest the moment he had stepped into the grove lifted suddenly as he saw the youko’s body twist and move and seem to come alive regardless of the fatal wound through his heart.

His blood thundered in his ears, but now it had nothing to do with lust and everything to do with hope.

Yuusuke stared outright as his redheaded friend, whom he thought dead by Hiei’s own blade, began to move, a grin threatened to split his face as he saw the slender chest rise and fall once. He was alive!? Kurama was alive!? But… but how? The katana had pierced his heart; he’d seen it.

Kuwabara, fists still clenched at his side, breathing calming after the series of disturbing thoughts and desires regarding his graceful youko teammate had run their course, searing through his brain and blood, stood with his jaw slack and eyes wide. He’d been ready to kill Hiei as he’d seen the fire demon thrust his sword into Kurama, and yet he’d seen the look of disbelief on that youkai’s face as he’d looked down at their fallen comrade. The look of denial that had quickly followed had stayed his hand more than anything else.

Enveloped in the warm gilded light the youko floated in a haze of half-forgotten memories and recollections of this moment from five previous experiences of this ritual. He’d never imagined it could feel like this, but now he was partly human, and everything was different. The haze was warmer, softer; the collective consciousness about him was lower, more murmuring in its continuous chant; the whisper-soft contact against his skin more like liquid velvet than the fire that had been there before.

I’ve come home.

Wait. No, that wasn’t right anymore. Before, this ritual had held so much for him, for all youko, and while it was still true, still important, it no longer held the same place in his heart as it once had. That honor was reserved for something else, someone else. This was still the single most important event in his life, regardless, but being here wasn’t home, not anymore.

He felt a smile shiver through the collective that embraced him. The chorus of silver voices caressed him with a fond teasing.

So, he finally learns.

The arrogant one finally found what he never knew he had been searching for.

You will always be welcome here, little one, but now it is time for you to go back.

He is waiting, and you know how impatient he is.

Kurama almost laughed outright but smothered it in the face of the awe he felt at the pure acceptance he felt in this strange link all youko shared at this moment. Members of his race were notorious for their loner ways and free-spirited natures, and yet they all came together to share this experience whenever one of them was ready for this moment. He basked in the warm tingle one last glorious second before he felt his consciousness roughly shoved back into his aching body, the aching body that he knew was already healed.

Hiei very nearly fell to his knees as he saw Kurama gasp in a deep breath as the strange golden glow around him began to fade as he lay on the ground. The youko was still in his strangely altered between-bodies state, two pointed silver ears twitching atop his head of waist-length red hair, save now, instead of one tail curling at his back, there were six.

The ritual worked.

Yuusuke gasped, and then quickly clamped both hands over his mouth. He hoped that Hiei hadn’t heard and that he hadn’t broken the rules of the strange ceremony they had just been witness to, but he doubted now that the Jaganshi was even listening, for his crimson eyes were riveted to Kurama’s sleeping body.

Then he noticed.

Kurama had six tails.

Six? Where did that last… the ritual? Was that what they had just seen? Was this a ritual to grant Kurama his newest tail? Yuusuke was stunned, had he not already been commanded to keep silent, he would have been shocked into speechlessness. Kurama had asked them to observe such an intensely private ceremony… how could he feel anything but honored.

Kuwabara, however, had a different opinion.

"Oi! Shrimp! You stabbed him, ahou!" Apparently, the term of silence was over, for the tall boy’s outburst had no ill effects on Kurama, who seemed to be only sleeping as Hiei knelt beside him and turned to shoot the ningen a hard glare.

"Silence, baka! He is weak and tired and you will-"

"Iya, daijobou, Hiei," Kurama’s alto was soft and fuzzy and his heavy-lidded eyes were still the true gold of his youko aspect as they glittered from his human face. He regarded Kuwabara calmly; after all, the ritual had been a success, now he just needed to sleep it off.

"It was necessary, Kuwabara. The ceremony calls for the spilling of heart’s blood, the ritual stirs up a blood frenzy that can be released no other way. Hiei knew this, that’s why I asked him to be the one." Well, for more reasons than just that.

Kurama turned his eyes to meet Hiei’s, those scarlet depths never leaving his face after he had begun to speak. He smiled, a gentle curl of his lips to reassure his lover. He’d seen the tormented look that had flashed across the eyes he loved as the sword had penetrated his flesh. He knew.

::Hiei. Arigatou gozaimasu, itooshi hito.::

A slight happy sigh escaped the redhead’s lips as he settled in his lover’s strong arms and promptly fell asleep.

Hiei snorted.

::Baka kitsune. Sleep well, itooshi. I will be here.::

  *OWARI*