128Thank you, NanneroftheWE, Jessenia22, Mr. steve jr, wickedloveless, Beryl Bloodstone, and canibecandid for your lovely reviews on the prelude! I never expected more than maybe one or two reviews on that and y'all made my day :) I hope everyone who is reading this is having a good new year so far!
(Friendly reminder that this is the third story in a series and probably nothing will make sense if you don't read them first!)
Speaking telepathically: When the person whose POV we're in is speaking, their thoughts are just italicized like this. When someone else responds to them telepathically, 'their voice is in single quotes and italicized like this.'
Just a reminder for returning readers! Hope you enjoy this update! :)
"The only difference between an extraordinary life and an ordinary one is the extraordinary pleasures you find in ordinary things."
Veronique Vienne
Dazed Days
I looked up from my hands as the bus I was waiting for rounded the corner. The middle-aged man who was sitting next to me folded up his paper and rose, stuffing it under his armpit. I rose as well, slinging my camera bag across my body—abruptly, I was hit with lightheadedness, and closed my eyes, breathing a large, exhaust fume-filled breath. The bus squealed to a halt and the doors opened. I waited for a few passengers to get off, and then lugged myself up the steps and inside.
The doors on the bus hissed shut, and I just managed to grab onto one of the swinging handrails before it jolted into first gear. I cast a cursory glance around the interior of the bus, but there was no room for me to sit, and certainly not enough room for me and the camera bag that was swinging from my shoulder. I shifted my weight a little and tried to make myself comfortable, my free hand coming down to hold my bag steady as the bus ground into third.
The dizziness I had felt earlier abruptly came back with a vengeance, and with it, my stomach turned.
Oh dear, I thought.
'What is it?' The answer from Kurama was quick and sounded concerned.
I smiled a bit at the sound of Kurama's voice, glancing up at the crook of my elbow. With my free hand, I tugged the quarter-length sleeve of my cardigan towards my wrist, to hide the scarred mark that remained there. The mark, done by accident almost two years ago by Kurama (well, Youko… it's a long story,) connected our minds on a telepathic level and allowed him—when necessary—to gain some insight into how I was feeling, what I was thinking. While he kept his distance (regardless of how close we were; I didn't appreciate having my mind perused without my knowledge;) on occasion, he would "check in—" not really read my mind, but look into things on a superficial level. Just the thoughts that I mentally vocalized; not the ideas and emotions behind them. It was basically the same as a normal conversation, except it all happened mentally.
'Reina?' he tried gently.
It's… nothing. My stomach turned; I swallowed a couple times, and readjusted my grip on the hanging strap above my head as my mark thrummed with energy. Had to stand on the bus today. Getting kind of carsick.
'You cannot sit down anywhere?' he asked worriedly. I closed my eyes briefly and could see him sitting at his computer, his fingers hovering over the keyboard in complete stillness. I frowned.
Hey, you need to be working. I opened my eyes and looked at the interior of the bus again. There was the tiniest sliver of cracked pleather next to a woman in her 70's, but most of it was taken up by her shopping bag. I grumbled about the bag inwardly, but really, it was too big for her lap. She already had her purse situated between her feet on the floor.
'And you need to not be vomiting on that poor old woman, even if it would make her vacate that seat,' Kurama teased. As I sighed, the woman looked up. I was able to glance away before she made eye contact, but it was too late.
"Miss? Young miss," she said, and I turned my head towards her again. My surroundings whirled sickeningly, and I swallowed again. The woman hefted her shopping back off of the seat and deposited it on the floor, then patted the now opened seat next to her.
"Oh, no I couldn't—" I started to protest, but she shook her head and smiled.
"You look pale," she said, touching her cheek with her fingertips, looking at me in a worried way. She scooted over again, indicating the stretch of seat next to her.
I blinked rapidly, clearing my vision, and smiled before sinking into the seat next to her. "Thank you. Guess I got a little carsick…" I rested my fingers on my throat, trying to quell the nausea. The woman nodded knowingly, and dug around in her purse, passing a peppermint to me. I thanked her and popped it in my mouth.
'What a kind woman,' Kurama noted approvingly.
Stop distracting yourself, worrywart.
'I love you too.'
I smiled a little at his taunt. I love you. I'll see you tonight.
"Where are you going?" the woman asked me. I tuned to her, smiled with a little more enthusiasm (the peppermint was working,) and replied:
"I'm a photographer. I'm headed to the Shinto temple just outside of town for some clients who are having their child do an Omiyamairi."
"The first temple visit," the old woman said thoughtfully, smiling at the word. She actually snorted. "We Japanese are born Shinto, marry Christian, and die Buddhist." At that, I laughed with her, and when it trailed off, she settled back into her seat, staring at a spot on the ceiling with a fond smile on her features. "I remember doing that for my children. All four of them. Now they have children of their own." She nodded to the bag on the floor between us. "My granddaughter is about to have her first... She is about your age, married young. I'm going to make her meals for her freezer, so she will not have to cook when the time comes."
"That's very sweet of you. Your granddaughter must be thankful for such a generous grandmother," I said warmly. She flapped a hand at me.
"I am a mother," she said simply.
She left the bus on the first stop; I helped her get her grocery bag off the bus before returning to my seat. I wanted to crack open a book I'd been reading, something Maya had pulled for me at the library where she worked, but figured I shouldn't risk getting sick again and left it in my camera bag. I made a mental note to pick up some mints at the corner store on my way back home.
I had to walk a couple blocks to get to the temple, and when I arrived, the family was waiting just inside of the gate. We exchanged hellos and I took a couple portraits outside while we waited for the ceremony to begin.
The parents were dressed simply; the mother in a skirt and blouse; her husband in a suit. There was a pink, flowered ceremonial kimono draped over the child while she slept in her father's arms; it was secured behind her father's back by two straps. I soon learned that this was part of the tradition; as was the ruffled collar that furled up around the child's face.
"This is the kimono my mother used when she brought me to my first temple visit," the child's mother said as she fidgeted with the collar. "The collar is my sister-in-law's."
"And I wrote the kanji," the father said, smiling down at his child. The kanji character for "small," or "modest," stood out in thin red lines on the baby's forehead, and it crinkled slightly as she yawned.
A Shinto priest, dressed in an orange robe and wearing a pointed black hat, greeted us warmly at the entrance of the temple and gestured for us to follow along behind him. We deposited our shoes at the door and, the kimono wrapped around the baby girl fluttering slightly, entered the surprisingly cool interior of the temple. I lingered in the back, grateful that the temple was also (again, surprisingly) well lit. I didn't want to have to use the flash during the ceremony.
The priest knelt at the altar—which had several items on it, including a bowl of stacked oranges and a glass in which appeared to be sake. He knelt silently at the altar for a moment, his head bowed and hands on the tatami mat next to his knees, and then abruptly began to chant. I couldn't understand him, but heard the names of my clients—including their little one—intermittently throughout. All the while, I walked around the exterior of the ceremony place, snapping pictures of the priest, the family, and the items he used in the ceremony. The child remained silent until he picked up a stick with bells on it—a tool used for driving out evil—and shook it in her face. Her father, who was holding her, rocked her underneath her flowery ceremonial kimono, and she quieted as the priest concluded the ceremony.
"I'll have your digital copies ready in a couple weeks—I'll send you an email when the CD ships out," I was saying as the father finished strapping his now-sleeping infant daughter into her car seat.
"I look forward to it," the mother said with a warm smile, and then—startling me—gave me a quick hug. "Thank you."
I patted her awkwardly on the back as her husband looked on. "You're welcome… Your family is beautiful."
I waved goodbye to them as they pulled out of the parking lot, and then made my way to the bus station.
It started to sprinkle as I strode towards the store near Kurama's and my apartment, and the bells overhead jingled as I ducked inside, fluffing my hair with one hand.
"Good afternoon!" the teller called, smiling at me. I waved back wordlessly, and sent a mental question mark to Kurama.
Noodles, soy sauce, toilet paper… I picked up a basket and started making my way to the back of the store. As I walked, I turned into the "family planning/feminine products" aisle and paused to get a box of tampons, casting a cursory glance over the contraceptive and pregnancy test section. Need anything from here?
'I certainly hope not,' Kurama teased. I snorted and pointed at a box of condoms, sending the mental image to him.
'We don't need more as of yet,' he answered. 'We do need freezer bags, though. I decided to grow some red onions…'
I stifled a groan.
'There isn't any soil on the floor; I vacuumed,' Kurama protested.
Because Kurama and I weren't exactly well off (even with him working full time and me holding two part time jobs as a gymnastics instructor and photographer,) we ate a mostly vegetarian diet. It took him very little energy to sprout vegetables in our home from seeds, and when he did so, we diced them up and froze them for later use. This way, we basically ate for free (save the cost of the seeds…) however, when he went on a sprouting spree, soil and leaves always ended up on the floor.
'Canned food for the cat,' Kurama added. 'And batteries for the laser pointer.'
Jinx, my cat, never ceased to amuse Kurama when he went after the ever-evasive red dot. We had to buy batteries at least once every couple months, because he never grew tired of it.
I made my way around the store, filling the basket with everything we needed, and then, after checking out, hefted the paper bag out the door and down the next few blocks between the corner store and our apartment. The drizzling had petered off into a fine mist by the time I'd made my purchases.
Kurama met me at the bottom of the stairs, and lifted the bag from my hands before I could protest.
"How was the shoot?" he asked conversationally as we made our way up the stairs.
"It was good. The kid was cute and the weather behaved," I said as I readjusted my camera bag strap. "Good, steady, overcast weather." I found that a layer of cloud cover made for better pictures—if it was sunny, the contrast would be too stark and people liked to squint besides. "How was work?" He worked at his stepfather's stock trading company; pretty boring work that involved crunching a lot of numbers. He enjoyed the complexity, though I had to wonder just how happy he was in his current position. After he'd been in the job for a while, Kurama (though he had initially refused to go to college) saw the benefit in taking a few business and economics classes. He assured me that the correspondence courses he was taking now would secure him a promotion by the end of the year. Maybe at that point his work wouldn't be as mind-numbing as it appeared to be now.
"We gained a few new clients," Kurama replied with a shrug as we made it to our floor. I stepped past him, pulling my keys out of my camera bag. "One of them was making poor decisions with his portfolio and I steered him onto a more lucrative path…
"Botan stopped by briefly," he added as he set the bag on the kitchen counter. I spun around in surprise.
"Really?"
"And she had this…" He pulled an envelope out from behind his back and raised it slightly over his head, grinning evilly at me. I ran over to him and stretched on my toes to reach the letter as he lifted it just beyond my reach.
"Not fair," I huffed, trying and failing to snatch it. "Don't flaunt your height privilege!"
"Pay the toll," Kurama ordered, smirking, and I rolled my eyes and pecked him on the cheek. He chuckled and shook his head, bending down to me. "Now that just won't do," he murmured against my lips. I grinned and deepened the kiss. When we separated, I had the letter in my hand, and tore it open with a fingernail.
"It's from Kuronue, finally," I said as I hopped up on the countertop to sit and read it. "How long has it been since we last heard from him? Six months?"
"He's busy, organizing the patrol in Makai," Kurama said lightly. He opened the package of noodles I'd bought and began to run water into a pot.
"Yeah, he says that Otake is riding his ass," I said, shaking my head at my friend's misfortune. I continued reading. "He also says that he picked up some seeds you might be interested in. Can't send it through the mail for obvious reasons…" I read the next paragraph in silence, and then grumbled under my breath: "Well, fuck."
"What?" Kurama asked over his shoulder.
I heaved a sigh and slapped the letter with the back of my free hand. "He isn't coming topside for the camping trip at Genkai's. He's too busy. Bastard," I grumbled. "This is the third time he's backed out on trips, holidays… and this time he didn't even come up with an excuse. He just dropped out!"
"I know you miss him," Kurama said gently, "but Kuronue is a demon…"
"What is that supposed to mean?" I grumbled. "You're a demon."
Kurama dried his hands and put the lid on the pot he'd just placed on the stove, then turned to face me, leaning against the sink with a wry smile. "Makai is his home, Reina. Full-blooded demons feel… more in their element there."
"And you don't?"
"My home is with you," he said with a slight smile, and shrugged away from the sink to wrap his arms around me. "Kuronue is still finding his place. Remember, he only just got his body back a couple years ago. It will take him some time to feel comfortable travelling away from home."
"Yeah, but…" I murmured into his shoulder, the letter crumpling loosely in my hand, "Even Hiei is going to be in town for the trip. He probably won't go, but he'll still be around…"
"Well, how else is he going to monitor Yukina and Kuwabara?" Kurama laughed, releasing me slightly to grin down at me. I quirked a small smile at that, and stared unseeingly at the letter.
"You really think that's it, though?" I asked, defeated. "That he just feels… better in Makai?"
Kurama kissed my forehead and didn't answer.
Kuwabara attended the senior high Gai Tech in Mushiyori, and was in his last year there. I was still at U-High's sister university, and both of these schools were, luckily, very close to each other. Our class schedules only aligned on Thursdays though, but we always made a point to have a weekly meet up. (Yukina usually accompanied him as well, now that she was living with him and Shizuru.) Most of the courses I took were correspondence courses like Kurama's, but there was one, a photography lab, on Tuesdays and Thursdays that was only available on-campus from 7:30 till noon.
Both Yukina and Kuwabara were waiting at a table outside the coffee shop we usually met at, and, once she spotted me, the tiny demon waved with a bright smile, tapping Kuwabara's arm to get his attention. I beamed at them and sat in the empty seat at their table, settling back with a sigh.
"Hey, Sparky—got your favorite," Kuwabara said, pushing an iced coffee at me. "Before you get mad, I used my punch-card. Every punch gets me closer to that grande butterscotch latte," he said with a grin and a fist pump. Yukina and I exchanged a loaded glance and devolved into a puddle of giggles.
When it was over, I sighed and leaned over the table. "I've got bad news."
"Oh no," Yukina said sympathetically.
"Kurama came out?" Kuwabara asked with a smirk. I frowned at him.
"Kuronue isn't coming this weekend," I said, shrugging and sipping my coffee. "Says he's too busy or some such nonsense."
"He's probably sick of campin' out," Kuwabara pointed out. "He does a lot of that in Demon World already."
"Yeah, but is he too sick of seeing friends that he hasn't seen in over in a year?" I grumbled. While it had been two years since Kuronue had taken the job with Reikai, a year ago he had managed to get away long enough for a week-and-a-half long visit around my birthday last September. But after that… nothing.
"It ain't personal, Sparky," Kuwabara said kindly.
"He'll come around," Yukina added with a sympathetic pat on the back of my hand. "Send him pictures of our trip in your next letter. Maybe if he sees them he'll come on the next one."
"Maybe…" We all sipped our drinks in thoughtful silence. "So, heard from Yusuke and Keiko recently? Haven't seen them since Yusuke's 18th last month." (1)
"Yusuke rented a different street corner for his ramen stand," Kuwabara said. "Gettin' a lot more business because of that."
"Keiko got her student teaching assignment," Yukina said brightly. "It's a small elementary school 30 minutes outside Nakayama. She starts in August."
"Good, we can bond over juggling the little snots," I said with a chuckle, swirling the ice cubes around in my cup. I wiped my hand free of the condensation on the knee of my jeans. I shook my head. "Kids, though."
"Kids," Yukina echoed with a small smile on her face. Kuwabara blushed and started coughing into his sleeve. Oh, these two…
"And when are you two moving out here?" I asked slyly, winking at the already flustered Kuwabara.
He surprised me by brightening up immediately. "Soon. I'm getting a TA job at the university. Yukina wants to start helping Shizuru out at the salon she's gonna open…" Kuwabara looked at Yukina dubiously, and I smiled knowingly. He was so worried about her constantly—how she would handle herself in Ningenkai, around people who weren't "in the know."
"I was joking around, but I'm glad to hear that!" I said. "It'll be good to live a little closer to each other." I checked my watch. "I've got to be at the gym in 40; got a class to teach. It's middle school kids this time." I made a face, and Yukina laughed. Before I left, we finalized some plans that needed to be made about our trip, and Kuwabara and I bade each other good luck on our finals.
I worked Mondays, Wednesdays, Thursdays, and every other Saturday at the gym, and scheduled my photo shoots between schoolwork and gymnastics classes. It kept me pretty busy, so I spent most of my free time editing pictures. I was slowly but surely making my way towards becoming a full-time photographer; once I had my associate's in photography in hand (with a minor in business,) I would very likely take the plunge. Gymnastics, while it kept me in shape, was just a job to make ends meet. I didn't have a passion for it like I did with photography. But it was a form of specialized work I could do, and it helped Kurama and I out enough to make it worth my time.
As I was changing in the gym's locker room, the dizziness from yesterday hit me again.
I sat on one of the metal benches by my locker and focused on breathing slowly. Eventually, I bent forward until my head was between my legs.
Hey, Kurama, I tried. Even my mental voice sounded miserable.
A moment later, he answered. 'Yes?'
Go get some iron supplements on your way home. I'm feeling dizzy again and I think we're out.
'Of course. Does it feel like you're about to…?'
I shook my head very slowly. No; there aren't any cramps.
When Kurama and I had moved in together, I tried getting on the pill. I'd been on it for a year when some unsavory symptoms reared their ugly heads. Now, even a year after I'd gotten off of them, my periods were still not back on track, and when they came, I would feel dizzy, nauseated, and tired. My last cycle had ended well over a month ago, and while I wasn't getting any other symptoms… the lightheadedness was a typical precursor to my period. And iron supplements helped.
'Will you be all right?' Kurama asked worriedly.
Yeah, I'll just get some water; eat a granola bar or something.
'Let me know when you're on your way home.'
I smiled. Will do. Love you.
'As I love you.'
When I got home, Kurama, bless him, was waiting with a couple rented movies, ice cream, and iron in pill form. I rolled my eyes and reminded him that I wasn't on the rag yet, but he cleverly responded that I didn't need to be for him to treat me. With that said, we curled up on the couch with our cat and enjoyed a quiet night at home, together.
(1) In the manga, Yusuke returns from Makai a year earlier than he said he would—he said he would come back when he was 18, but ended up coming back at 17. So, now that it's been a year since Yusuke returned in this fanfiction series, he's turned 18, not 19 :P