Let's Fly as the Birds Do...
chapter 9
by Hikari
“Let’s Fly as the Birds Do…” Chapter Nine
5/22/01 (picked up again on 7/17/01)
By: Hikari
E-mail to: elvina99@hotmail.com
Site:
www.oocities.org/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.
<< Chapter
8
Chapter 10 >>