InuYasha Fan Fiction / Yu Yu Hakusho Fan Fiction ❯ With Meaning ❯ Convoluted ( Chapter 11 )

*hugs and kisses* to madmiko because that woman is hella awesome! Thanks so much for helping me out with this chapter, I hope it meets expectations~! And to all you patient readers out there, YES this is a real update! I hope you enjoy it, heaven knows how I toiled over it instead of writing my history paper [which is done, 300 words under limit and pathetic but done].

__________________________________________________________

Love was a strange thing; it reached out to you and practically bowled you over when it finally occurred to you that you were in love. But before that moment, before that epiphany, it was a gentle weaving of souls that bonded together. Kurama had seen it, days before, when three very pained souls had tentatively reached and then exuberantly touched.

He swallowed as he looked at Kuwabara with pained eyes.

—Because one soul had pulled away.

Kurama carefully pushed his finger against the pencil in the jar, watching as the writing utensil rolled away from the force of such a small appendage. “So how have you been?” He inquired genially, as casually as he could since Kagome had been getting worried and her soul had been jumpy. It was making him worry in turn, though he'd originally thought to give Kuwabara a little space.

Kuwabara smiled easily, ruffling the back of his hair with a large hand while he leaned back in his desk chair. “Pretty good. I am close to finishing my research paper for my History course. Then I might finally be able to check in with Koenma and fix some of the Reikai records.”

Kurama nodded his head and lifted his eyes up to his friend.

He hated this.

The Higurashi family had taken Kuwabara pulling away with a little bitterness, but had tried not to let it interfere with their normal life. But Kurama knew. Kagome was confused and her soul was wounded. And Shippou, vibrant little Shippou, always watched the door after he went into the house, just in case.

He swallowed. “Shippou misses you.”

Kuwabara stiffened.

Kurama licked his lips and continued. “And Kagome mentioned you the other day, talked about some scrolls you'd borrowed and about how worried she was over if they'd been any help.”

“Ah,” Kuwabara reached beside his desk to the floor, bringing up a cloth bag usually used to carry fresh produce in the market. “Here, would you give this to her next time you see her?”

His friend still wouldn't meet his eyes. Kurama narrowed his green orbs as he took the bag. He glanced in and then glowered when he spotted the very scrolls he'd just mentioned—he couldn't mistake that lingering aura anywhere. And Kagome had briefly mentioned what was in some of those scrolls.

He growled, “No.”

Kuwabara startled and finally looked up into his eyes. He flinched back when he saw how incensed the kitsune was, how offended his friend was.

“I will not let you cower away from her, ignore her! She's welcomed us and this is how you repay her?”

Kuwabara worried his lip and then grimaced. Slowly he pushed his chair out and then stood, carefully thrusting the bag of scrolls back at him from where he'd tossed it across the desk.

“I can't see her again.”

The finality tore at something in Kurama's chest. He'd thought it had been wonderful with the Higurashi family and Kuwabara and him all together. It had been a refuge. All of them together had created such a perfect blend of souls it had made him content, for once in his life not alienated because of his kitsune sensitivity. Instead his kitsune senses had flared and soothed him; his soul had known that this…this was what family should feel like.

He might even go as far to call it paradise—for Kuwabara to renounce that because he couldn't…

His breath caught.

“You love her.”

Kuwabara bodily flinched, his hands coming down heavily to brace his frame on the back of his chair.

“You don't want to love her.” Kurama breathed this addition as if it was sacrilege to leave his mouth. He'd come to terms with his own feelings for the beautiful and strange miko, he couldn't keep himself away. She'd slowly worked her way under his skin, her son grinning beside her with a firm place hidden in his heart. No matter how hard he'd tried to keep his distance, to judge if they were a threat to his job, he couldn't have stayed away.

He'd fallen in love with the little sanctuary they'd made, the little family they'd somehow created without knowing everything. And Kuwabara had rejected all of that.

He swallowed, trying to keep a glower off his face. He owed Kuwabara more than lashing out without an explanation.

—Even when it hurt this much, even when it felt like Kuwabara had rejected him.

Kuwabara breathed in, hesitating. But then a great sigh left him and his frame seemed to deflate, his soul pulled down into his body as if he was afraid to touch the rest of the world with such a tender sense. “I fell in love with her.”

“And?” Kurama's voice was tight. He didn't know if it was because he was hurt over his friend's callous treatment of a relationship he'd grown to adore with all his soul or if it was due to that little part of him snarling viciously in jealousy—the little miko gazed at his friend with such soft eyes.

Kuwabara swallowed and looked up at him. “It wouldn't work.”

Kurama floundered. All the jealousy and hurt faded away under the very real pain his friend was experiencing, pain that had made him pull away. “Maybe it would have,” he said softly.

Kuwabara shook his head briskly. “No. There would be doubt in that relationship, and that would hurt us both. It wouldn't work out if I tried. And it might ruin everything we've gained because one time I found a little child who needed someone.” The man took in a fortifying breath that lifted his large shoulders. “That was one time Kurama. They don't need me.”

Kurama drew in a breath like the very air was sour. That his friend thought that Kagome would ever doubt him, that she would ever demand he do something for her to earn his place— “You know Kagome would never…”

“That's the point Kurama, it's me that's the problem.” He mopped a hand down his face and started to pace his floor. “If I am always there doubting her, second guessing her and our relationship…what kind of future can I offer? I will always be hurting her by not trusting her—and the real kicker is it won't be because of her.” He turned abruptly and straightened himself, looking into Kurama's eyes solemnly. “I couldn't do that to her.”

Kurama felt his heart clench and his lungs briefly cease, his eyes pained as he looked to his friend. “You pulled away because of that?”

Kuwabara scowled. “She wouldn't have me; she shouldn't have to put up with me. If a maiden like Yukina couldn't have me then why should someone as pure as Kagome put up with me?”

“You loved her.”

“I love her, but it doesn't matter.” Kurama watched Kuwabara swallow, his eyes narrowing in pain as his face twisted into a grimace. “You should go see her, she might be lonely.”

Kurama firmed and scowled. He saw what his friend was trying to do, and he would have none of it. So as Kuwabara slouched off he decided; he'd have to pull away too. If Kuwabara thought that he wasn't good enough, that Kurama would be the one to step in—he thought wrong. If anything, Kurama didn't deserve her love when a man like Kuwabara needed it.

He carefully eyed the scrolls in his hands, his eyes softening at the worn feel and clinging way Kuwabara's aura still held on. The man had carefully touched these, held his aura over them so that he understood exactly how delicate they were as he pored over them and there was a delicate warmth that meant Kuwabara understood how precious they were.

He gave his friend a careful parting nod, eyeing the large man with sad eyes as he made his way from the apartment. He let out his breath into the crisp dusk air, a firming resolve in his head even though his heart clenched and his gut roiled.

But this was for Kuwabara.

He'd see Kagome and Shippou tomorrow.

……………

Kurama smiled as Kagome welcomed him, kissing his cheek in greeting. When she pulled away, her hand tucked into his arm, he watched her glance around for their friend.

But Kuwabara still wouldn't be coming.

Kurama carefully handed her the scrolls, watching the way her eyes widened. He tried not to show how grieved he was, she looked like she'd just been slapped in the face by someone she loved. Nonetheless her hands were steady as she took them from him, arranging them neatly on a side table as she quietly waited for him to enter the house.

They slipped into the house as was their custom, quietly, since Kuwabara wasn't there to rile up Shippou. The quiet had fallen since that night so many weeks ago, what felt like forever now that Kurama knew what he had to do. His heart ached for it.

He took a slow sip of his tea as he looked off to one side. “I'm not going to be around that much anymore.”

Kagome carefully settled her tea cup, “Oh?”

“My vacation time is coming to an end. My boss will be calling me in more often and I won't have time to visit.”

“That's a shame.” Her eyes looked at him slowly, calmly. His heart thudded as he felt her soul arch painfully and then cower back into her body. “I guess if you must, I can't hold you back from living.”

He nodded his head and ran his tongue over the back of his teeth, trying to find something to distract himself from her steady gaze. “What exactly do you do? Sometimes you have your briefcase and papers but you are with Shippou so much I never really know.”

She smiled. “I work PR for a company of my friend, which means I get to spend a lot of time with Shippou while gathering population Intel. We have a lot of fun. He especially likes hanging out with the other kits.” She blinked and scrunched up her nose. Their awareness of each other's sensitivity to the paranormal was a type of open secret—whenever one or the other referred to it there was this pause in the conversation. They couldn't decide whether or not to elaborate and trust more or hastily retreat and keep their relations tidy. They didn't want to be a liability if they ever encountered trouble. Which was a given considering how intimate their knowledge appeared to be.

She sighed. “And what do you do? You had so much vacation time I'm afraid I was under the impression you lived off a rather large inheritance.”

Kurama smiled cautiously, careful not to give away too much with his body posture. Kagome had proven apt at reading into their movements. “I scout potential employees for my boss, and keep an eye out for possible troublemakers.”

She tilted her head slightly and eyed him, smiling. “I hope we didn't get added to that list.” She sipped her tea innocently.

He swallowed thickly. She had caught right on to the fact that his boss had something to do with the supernatural. Any other paranormal investigator would have labelled her a threat for the way her spirit rose around her and practically engulfed everything. But Kurama had seen her with her son, had watched her. He knew that there was no malicious bone in her body, and the large soul of hers was made to nurture and encourage—not oppress and control.

“No, he proved uninterested. I wasn't even aware of your existence until we met Shippou.”

Kagome smiled. “He does draw you in doesn't he?”

Kurama shifted. “Ah, I was wondering.”

“Yes?”

“He seems attached to you, I was wondering if it was because he didn't fit in at school. It would be something for my boss to know. Peaceful youkai might have a chance of surviving here instead of being easy prey.”

“Hmm, Shippou-chan gets along beautifully at school. But he's my boy. You should know how kitsune feel around their mothers.”

Kurama coughed and cleared his throat. “Indeed.” Kitsune loved souls, energy and affection—that Shippou had found all of this in his chosen mother meant that her spirit fed his. She encouraged him to get out, to socialize; she wasn't using their bond to control a potential power source. And that only made the small kitsune adore her more. She was entirely selfless in her giving, and it made her soul taste wonderful.

Too wonderful, too tempting. So inviting and warm that Kurama always felt relaxed and happy when she was around.

He winced and turned his eyes to the side. It was so hard to talk to her, to establish this distance that he found necessary. She simply pulled him in and made him open up to her. But it would be harder on them both to be normal and then have him leave.

Kuwabara deserved better than this. Kurama owed it to him to respect his feelings—no matter how confused the man was over them.

But it was so hard.

Kagome loved him, he was sure of it. But the sly fox knew that she also loved Kuwabara and was hurting because he'd pulled away. She had a big heart; she needed a caring man like his friend. Kurama could give them that. They would be good for each other.

Even without him in the picture—he sucked in a sharp breath, his chest pained for one brief moment before he recovered.

He smiled politely and nodded as Kagome poured him another cup of tea.

Shippou shuffled into the room, dirty and scuffed from playing soccer. “Mama?” He questioned with bright eyes.

Kagome smiled and turned to her son, dismissing Kurama like he knew she'd been aching to do. She knew, on some instinctual level, that he was pulling away. And she was hurting for it.

“Yes dear?”

Shippou grinned. “Hiro is wondering if he can have one of those cookies.”

Kagome laughed, standing up from her kneeling position and grabbing her son's hands. “Don't touch the walls; you're going to leave handprints everywhere. I'll give you two and you make sure to share alright? Is it only Hiro outside?”

Shippou laughed, “And his little brother, but he doesn't need a cookie.”

Kagome tutted. “Here,” she handed him three cookies. “And what did I tell you about Yoshiko?”

Shippou pouted. “That he's just shy.”

“Hmmm, now go out and play some more. I'll call you for supper in an hour.”

Shippou grinned and raced out of the house, the door slamming behind him and the muffled shouts of happy children greeting their ears.

Kagome sat down across from him again, slow and ponderous as her eyes didn't meet his. “I should probably start dinner.”

“Ah.” Kurama stood slowly, taking the discreet hint for what it was. Kagome wanted to make this as quick as possible, wanted to halve the pain.

Kurama swallowed. Even though that's what he wanted, this distance, it still wrenched a part of his soul for it to be happening. He cleared his throat as he stopped by the door. “I can see why Shippou fits in so well, the kids adore you.”

Kagome made a soft sound of pain, something she tried to hold in. When her face crumpled Kurama closed his eyes and hissed in a breath.

“I'm sorry,” He breathed out as he spun and left the house at his fastest walk, his heart frozen in his chest and breaths hard to take in because the air stung his throat and raged in his lungs.

“Inari…” he whispered painfully as he tried his best to straighten.

Clearing his throat in hopes of dislodging that painful lump—he was doing this for his friends' sake—he caught movement from the corner of his eye.

Turning slightly he found Shippou holding a soccer ball, his green eyes dulled with confusion and hurt. Two little boys, Hiro and Yoshiko presumably, stood off to the side in their own innocent confusion. But it was the hurt behind green eyes, eyes somehow knowing and yet still disbelieving, which made the old fox clench his fists in pain.

Kurama's breath caught and he had to turn away as Shippou's face crumpled in miserable anger, his eyes watering and his mouth a snarl as he threw his ball to the ground and raced into the house.

Kitsune thrived on feeling the emotions of others after all.

Kurama wished he could have spared him this.

He overcame his hesitation and swiftly went into the streets, the distance placed between him and the hurt Higurashi family all the better. It had to be this way.

Kuwabara needed to let Kagome love him—they both needed it.

Kurama wouldn't stand in the way of that.

Someone else would love him…

….

Kuwabara sighed and slouched as he made his way through the crowds. The bag of groceries in his one hand bit into his skin with its weight, but he ignored it. The pain was minimal compared to a heaviness that had settled in his heart.

He kept on reminding himself that it was all for the better.

Kagome needed stability in a relationship. Kuwabara knew this. He had spent hours upon hours labouring over those scrolls of hers. He had understood that she'd gone to another world, had been pressed into a duty she didn't understand (Kuwabara admired that about her—she was so full of honour). And the hanyou, the first man she had loved, hadn't been able to decide.

He'd pushed her aside because he couldn't understand her love, unconditional as it was. And he had fluctuated between hurting her and being kind, showing his favour and pushing her away.

Kuwabara had been disgusted, and he'd realized he might have been the exact same way should he pursue her—he would have hurt her.

He took in a breath of the warm spring air as he went into his apartment building, nodding his head to the security guard.

In his kitchenette, unpacking his groceries, he did his best to ignore the niggling at the back of his head. It had been constant since he'd pulled away, and had gotten worse once he'd given the scrolls back. His soul cried out for contact with the Higurashi.

This was one of the reasons why he'd refused to exercises his powers.

He sighed as he put away the last of the canned goods, leaning against the counter as pain hit him and made him dizzy.

Kuwabara wanted to proclaim his love, he really did. But he knew that it wouldn't be what was best for Kagome. He wasn't stable. He would be busy and confused, his powers would fluctuate, his heart would doubt, his mind would wonder why. And she would just go through her painful past all over again because another man couldn't find it in himself to believe she could love all of him—all of his past mistakes and quirks and his idea of justice and the shit that made him him.

Kuwabara knew this.

So why, why wouldn't his heart accept it?

His head jerked up as the buzzer went. He answered to the voice of Kurama, opening his door and inviting his friend in.

Things had been tense between the two of them, and lately the fox's soul had become jittery and sharp against his own. But they were the only ones left who understood…and now he looked like a man who had been deprived of his very life source.

“You should visit Kagome.” Kurama said bluntly and heavily, his eyes tired as he forwent all pleasantries.

Kuwabara sucked in a sharp breath and tried to hide his eyes from his friend.

Kurama growled. He turned to pace down the hall to the sitting room, furiously running his hands through his tangled red hair as he glowered.

Kuwabara had never seen his friend so unkempt.

“I told myself to back off,” He replied bluntly, answering his friend in similar style.

Kurama spun to him with wide shocked eyes, his lean frame somehow vulnerable.

Kuwabara grimaced and turned away.

Kurama took a swift step and pulled him around by a hand on his shoulder, his face smouldering in his view as he growled, “Idiot! She loves you!”

Kuwabara shrugged the harsh hand off his shoulder, his face twisting menacingly. “I can't let her! I'll be just like that stupid hanyou!”

Kurama cursed and gripped the hair at his temples, twisting his body. Finally he recovered himself and looked at him solidly—“She loves you.”

“I'd only hurt her,” Kuwabara growled back.

“Well you already did!” Kurama yelled furiously, his green eyes bright.

Kuwabara sucked in a sharp breath as he stared at his friend, his hurt giving to anger because he knew that. Knew that Kagome was hurt but hadn't wanted to accept it because Kurama was so much better and he could fix everything. He could be everything for her.

Kurama's lip curled lightly before it fell to its normal place. “Look, Shippou misses you. Kagome misses you.” He looked him straight in the eye. “I miss you.”

Kuwabara swallowed painfully. “She has you, you have them. It will work out.” He said this quietly, as if testing the words on the charged air. But the truth was those words hurt to say, his soul twisted and arched in pain under the movement of his tongue.

Kurama looked down. “I stopped going over there.”

“What!!!?” Kuwabara yelled furiously, every muscle in his body tensing with his ire. Even his awareness that he'd taken a threatening stance against his friend did little to still the reaction of his body.

Kurama looked up challengingly. “She loves you, and you need to go over there and tell her your feelings.”

Kuwabara threw his hands up in the air. “You love her too!”

The smaller redhead glowered. “She loved you first! And she deserves a man as sensitive and caring as you.”

Kuwabara snarled and took a step forward, and then he froze. He was all too aware of how tall he was compared to his friend, how much his bulk gifted him with strength compounded by his spiritual powers. He swallowed and took a step back, consciously loosening his muscles as he turned his face away.

His voice was quiet and subdued as it came out from his lips: “I can't. I'd mess everything up. And you can be there for her, you can provide for them like I can't.”

Kurama seemed even more offended with this defeated stance than he had been with his angry yelling. “You could be all she wants, you read the scrolls!”

A sigh escaped, melancholy and slow. “I could be just like him, the man who kept on hurting her because she loved him too much and he wasn't worth it.”

Kurama growled and narrowed his eyes, his posture stiff. “You could just as easily be the man that accepts her love…just as I could be the man that constantly breaks her heart.”

Kuwabara kept his gaze on his friend, recognizing the pain in his eyes for what it was. They both loved Kagome, and they both thought they didn't deserve it. Kurama knew he had a tainted past, and Kuwabara just knew he would mess up.

But they already had; Kagome was hurting. Both their souls knew it.

It was this final silent standoff that broke their gazes. They couldn't stand to look at each other anymore with the guilt weighing down their souls.

Kurama left the apartment with a quiet click of the door.

….

Kuwabara was there, scrolls in his hand, to update the Reikai library. Kurama knew that his friend took this job seriously—he wanted to help eliminate the stereotypes against humans. A longstanding proponent of that had been Reikai's messed up records—there was a bias towards the supernatural perspective of historical events. Kuwabara was being paid to use his degree to fix up the records.

Kurama sighed and looked the other way.

He had come in to report to Koenma, but the prince was hassled and busy and as such he had to run into Kuwabara. It was the only way, the prince said, that he could get everything done on time.

So they were walking through the halls of Reikai on their way to Koenma's meeting.

It was chaotic.

The two old friends were hurt and tense around each other, and their souls clashed and reached for the other at unpredictable intervals. It made Kurama dizzy.

“I fixed the mentions of Akitoki, it seems that his clan had some trouble with demons but it wasn't the plot that it was said to be.” The large man intoned from the other side of the pacing prince.

Koenma nodded and sucked furiously on his binky—“That should fix up that era. Anything else?”

Kuwabara hesitated before he shook his head.

“And you?” Koenma asked Kurama without politely acknowledging him.

Kurama furrowed his brow—the prince was usually a stickler for the niceties. It must mean something big was going on. He cleared his throat. “I checked that whole subdivision; there is nothing resembling a threat in that area.”

Koenma sighed with relief.

Kuwabara looked into his eyes over the prince's head, narrowing his brown orbs as he examined him.

Kurama tilted up his chin in challenge. The big lug hadn't mentioned the Higurashi either.

Koenma shoved open some ornate doors, bowing as he entered the room. His two subordinates hadn't yet been dismissed, and Kurama grimaced as he and Kuwabara followed their boss' lead.

It figures he'd have to put up with the damnably confusing soul contact for an entire formal meeting.

The prince kept standing close to the door, Kurama and Kuwabara behind him as they watched a bulky wolf demon stand and glare heavily at Koenma. “Princeling.” Came his low growling voice as it echoed through the cavernous meeting room.

Several pack wolves shifted to turn their hard stares to the head of reikai.

Koenma bowed again. “Lord Kouga, to what do I owe the honour of this visit? I was under the impression the border discussions were in May.”

“I told you to stay away from my pack, Koenma.”

Koenma straightened, stunned, and stuttered. When he finally recovered himself he could only weakly retort—“I haven't sent any of my employees after your pack members.”

Kouga growled. “Then explain to me why the kit talked about your avatar stopping by the house and making a mess of things.”

Kuwabara startled. “You're the wolf leader!”

The man snarled and revealed his prominent fangs. “Damn straight, and that must mean you're the other dumbfuck who made a mess at my miko's shrine.”

A red wolf growled furiously and stood up; stalking her way along the grand table as pack members solemnly eyed the trio near the doors. “Our miko,” rumbled out her low growl, a predatory light to her eyes.

Koenma coughed, “I assure you I had no idea that we had even come into contact with one of your own. Please let me apologize for this slight.” He bowed deeply, his eyes flashing a warning at his two old employees.

Kurama nodded his head and closed his eyes as he bowed, felt the confusion of Kuwabara's soul as his friend followed suit.

“It still stands that our miko is hurting, and her kit is melancholy. What are you going to do to right this wrong, Princeling?”

Koenma bowed again. “We formally apologize, and we will refrain from any more contact.”

Kouga snarled. “That's the problem! Our miko no longer has her inu, she is alone in that world. And your men saw fit to pull away and hurt her without cause. We will see this rectified.”

His claws came to the fore.

“Wait!” Koenma shouted. “I find a better solution would be to apologize to her.” His desperate voice stilled the ancient wolf, his dark eyes flashing as he settled back down and the red wolf stepped closer.

“Both your men will apologize…and they will explain why they took the actions they did. Then, whatever happens shall be in the miko's hands.”

Koenma sighed lightly and nodded, bowing as he backed out of the room.

Kurama felt the heavy gazes of a pack of wolves on him as he followed the prince's example and exited.

“What was all that?” Kuwabara asked in confusion.

Koenma sighed in frustration and turned to them, popping out of his teenage form as he stormed down the halls. “That was me getting your asses out of the fire! Didn't find anything in ningenkai my ass!

Kurama narrowed his eyes. “The miko is claimed by the wolf pack?”

Kuwabara opened his mouth slowly, a stunned expression showing his bewilderment. “She helped them recover from some illness that wiped out the population. They claimed her as pack sister after that.”

Kurama was enlightened. “So she works for him so they can look out for her. And they do so on every level…?” The respect for the miko's independence had been demonstrated by the red wolf, and for a whole pack of youkai to have such emotion for a miko of all things…but then Kagome was like that.

Just thinking of her made his heart clench.

Koenma plopped himself down into his cushy chair with a childish glower. “The Miko is well protected, as she has been through so much pain before—the wolf pack sought to save her heart.” He looked away from them briefly before turning back, his eyes hard. “Fix this. I can't have him breathing down my neck. Kouga has an old understanding with Father; this can't get out of hand.”

Kuwabara sighed heavily and nodded his head.

Kurama narrowed his eyes at his friend, and then he sighed as well.

They might as well be men about it—they had been avoiding each other and the problem ever since they'd had that revealing argument. They'd caused their love pain, and they couldn't stand looking at each other knowing that they had done it with the best thoughts for the other. Somehow the blame had become convoluted…