Yu Yu Hakusho Fan Fiction ❯ The Price of Friendship ❯ Yusuke's POV 2 ( Chapter 7 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Thank You! Lady Inari, darksoul0016, kahuffstix, Kyo Hana, Deannamay, Red Kitsune Flames, doragon, and Lord Christophe

Seems like people actually enjoyed that chapter as much as I did. I'm a tad surprised, actually. Wasn't expecting the great responses that I received, so thank you all! This chapter can be considered the beginning of the end for this story, and it has been decided on a sequel for the explanation. I've gotten ideas written about that already for all you fans. Review more and I'll definitely update quicker. I'm going to finish, but incentive makes me work faster! ^^

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Chapter 7- Yusuke's POV 2

It's been six weeks now. Six weeks since Kuwabara's death; six weeks since I began my search for Kurama and Hiei; six weeks since I lost my dearest friends.

And it's been five and a half since he took everything else from me as well.

I'm all alone, now. Living solely off of hatred and anger, and the need for revenge. I sometimes wonder why I haven't given up, yet, why I haven't given everything up: my search, my vengeance, …my life? Why? It would have been so much easier than this. I'll never find him, not if he doesn't want to be found!

Kurama is too crafty, too smart, too…learned to allow himself to be caught twice in one lifetime!

Right now, I'm walking through a town on the border between Mukuro's and Yomi's territories following a trail that is undoubtedly as useless as the last. Thoroughly exhausted, I decide to stop in a run-down inn for a rest. It's not like I can't afford it; Kurama's long gone by now.

I push the squeaky door open and enter the dankly lit tavern. Moving towards the bar, I remove three mitakls, which is the currency for 1/3 of the Makai, from my pocket and slam them on the countertop.

“I need a room,” I announce to the bartender cleaning glasses behind the counter. He merely glances up and nods towards a set of keys hanging on the wall at the foot of the stairs. I nod my thanks and begin my ascension with a key in tow.

Glancing at the key in my hand, I read the number 316. I was standing by door 302. I continue down the hall, ignoring the shrieks of terror and pleasure, the groans of excitement and contentment, the mutterings of acquiescence and…fear?

I stop mid-stride in front of a door numbered 312 that was cracked open. Two doors down was my own room. I considered just walking past the white-gone-brownish door until I heard it again. And I recognized the voice.

It was the voice I heard every night, though I was never able to see the face. It was the voice that haunted my dreams and worsened my nightmares. I burst into the room knowing whom I was to face, and…excited about it.

It was the voice of Youko Kurama.

I was fully prepared to enter the room and tear him to shreds, but the sight I saw stopped me dead in my tracks. Youko Kurama sat hunched against the wall, knees drawn to his chest, head buried in crossed arms. His once lustrous silver hair was now dirtied and hung in clumps around his face. His perfect clothes looked soiled and worn. And he was trembling, violently.

I just stood in the doorway and stared, unable to move. Then, he raised his head and gazed at me with eyes red from either fatigue or tears. There was no way it could be the latter.

The fox merely back at me for a bit before raising his face from his arms as recognition hit him. He gave me a wide grin unlike one I've ever seen on him. He seemed crazed with that grin, those bloodshot eyes. Then again, we've already established that fact.

Then, I noticed the trails of dried tears running across his cheek.

No! Youko Kurama had been crying? Why? That's not possible!

Why was he crying? Of all people?

“Kurama,” I called cautiously. I was unprepared for him to be like this, so…pathetic.

His grin widened even more as his canines showed over his lips. “Yusuke,” he greeted as he stood, allowing me to see the shape he was really in. And while he had no bruises or scars on his body, his clothes were filthy. Quite unusual for the neat freak fox I used to know. What were once stark white were now either a dark tan or a light brown. His hair was now almost as brown as Keiko's had been before she…before he…

I shake those thoughts before they can even begin. I don't need another trip down memory lane right now. Now, Kurama was my priority.

Whatever happened, I needed to be here, in mind and body, to understand. I realize this now: I won't be able to finish this until I talk to him. I need to understand why.

“What are you doing here, Kurama?” I ask voice steeled to hide my emotions. “This isn't really your type of place.”

“It's been awhile, Yusuke,” he replied taking a step towards me and smoothly side stepping my question. “How long? Three weeks?”

“Six,” I stated, stepping to my right as he moved closer to my left.

“Really?” he questioned with false interest, even raising a still dainty brow to complete the façade. “How have you been?” He stepped to his right, closer to me. I stepped further away. Normally, I wouldn't allow this to happen, but I knew Kurama and I knew what he was capable of. Being closer in range for his possibly forthcoming attacks would not be in my best interest.

“Fine,” I replied frowning, a bit of anger seeping into my voice despite my protests. He grinned at the reply.

We continued to step as if hunter and prey. We moved in a large circle, never closer than three feet and never breaking eye contact.

“Explain yourself,” I ventured. I never was one for long drawn out stalemates. It's more my style to act on impulse. So this game of Kurama's really needed to end, but since I had unintentionally allowed myself to be moved to the center of the room, Kurama blocking the only exit, I didn't see that happening anytime soon.

He stopped walking and stood. Staring into my eyes. Moments passed until he finally responded. “No.”

“What!” I yelled, mostly because I was surprised by the tart answer.

“No,” he repeated coldly finally breaking eye contact and turning slightly to the side. “You're not worthy of the truth.” He now refused to even glance in my direction. “You are still a child in many ways. You still fear me.” He paused and sent me a chilling glare, “You still fear my response.”

“No!” I shouted.

And I charged.

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Oh how the bonds of friendship bend! Not much in the way of action, but as I'm sure you've all noticed, I preferred leaving much to the imagination in this story, in particular. So, just be prepared for a little scene jumping in the upcoming chapters. That's all I'm saying. Oh, and this:

Review!