463IF YOU HAVEN'T READ AGAINST THE GRAIN I SUGGEST YOU READ IT FIRST BECAUSE THIS CHAPTER HAS SPOILERS! THE ENTIRE PLOT IS REITERATED HERE; YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!
(Also, you should leave a review or two back there. Because I love reviews; they make me happy :D )
Happy Fourth of July to all my American readers! And happy update day to everyone else, haha :). Read on!
"We're horribly mundane, aggressively mundane individuals. We're the ninjas of the mundane, you might say."
—Andy Partridge
Mundane Again
I let my head rest on my desk for the fifth time that day, eyes drooping inevitably until they were nearly shut, my head pounding like I had just run headlong into a brick wall.
This was not a good way to start the beginning of my second year at Meiou High.
We had just slugged through the orientation, and had been directed to our classes by the school's guidance counselor. Luckily, Kurama and I were in the same class again, so that meant that I wouldn't be completely bored in the duration of this school year. Or deprived of intelligent conversation.
I twisted my head until my cheek was pressed against my new, unused notebook, and cracked open one eye so I could train it on our professor, and feign sufficient interest so I wouldn't get called out on sleeping in class.
My head throbbed indignantly at that slight movement, and I made a mental note to take an aspirin as soon as the bell rang.
As the teacher droned on about classroom guidelines, I picked up my pencil—which was resting by my hand—and began to doodle idly on the inside cover of my spiraled notebook.
I drew a brief, rather (okay, really) disproportional sketch of the Barrier Stone—the pendant that I wore to keep my unruly spiritual powers in check... because if I didn't, pretty much everyone I knew—including me—would suffer.
My spiritual power attacked all demons (a.k.a., a good number of my friends) via electric shock—and I do mean all. Even Kurama, a demon-human hybrid, the first demon that I had ever zapped. And, at the time, he had still been pretty powerful. So that had made me pass out from the effort, once I had dragged myself home.
After that, I had developed a rather nasty headache.
A headache that was not unlike the one I had now, I realized, as my brain twinged painfully. Though I had been wearing the Barrier Stone since I'd arrived at Meiou... so I couldn't even sense Kurama's aura right now. Which didn't add up.
The pendant was a bump residing just under the collar of my scarlet school uniform, hidden because, well... it was rather noticeable. And I didn't want to get too many strange looks…
The thing was older than I was—no, take that back... it might be even older than Kurama. Which was saying something, because he was well over two thousand years old... or so he had told me. He had lost count a few centuries ago.
The Barrier Stone itself had been in my family for a while now... how long, I didn't know. But then Kuronue—the last true owner of the amulet—had stolen it after he had killed a member of my family... otherwise known as Masuyo.
When Kuronue had died (several hundred years ago,) the pendant had fallen into Spirit World's hands, and was consequently bestowed to me, to compensate for my spiritual retardedness.
At least, that's what I had been told as I dreamed of Kuronue and Masuyo… I wasn't quite sure if I believed it yet. About a month ago, I had asked Botan to have a look at the file on my amulet… see where it had come from, what its history was.
See if Kuronue's and Masuyo's souls actually existed inside the amulet, as their apparitions had both told me in my dreams.
I frowned as I scrubbed out my less-than-satisfactory outline of the Barrier Stone.
My pencil froze in mid-scrub as the trio of jagged scars on my back throbbed painfully.
The Dark Tournament.
During the winter break, Kurama and I (not to mention the rest of our friends) had been forced to go to a fighting competition. The Dark Tournament was based on... survival of the fittest, and Kurama, Hiei, Kuwabara, Genkai and Yusuke had had no choice but to compete in the tournament as a team—Team Urameshi.
Most of the teams had been composed of demons... except for ours.
And the only other team that had humans in it were being forced to compete via mind control... by a demon.
So, yeah, the team that I had been rooting for—Team Urameshi—had had been the only team made up of free humans, with the exception of Kurama (who was a fox demon reincarnated) and Hiei (who was an evil little fire demon that I didn't particularly like.) Kuwabara, Genkai, and Yusuke were human psychics, like me. 'Cept their spiritual powers are most definitely not pathetic. Like mine.
We had managed to escape the Dark Tournament in the end, but not without our full share of scars.
I frowned nervously into my notebook as my back throbbed again, reminding me.
Karasu.
Karasu was a sadistic demon that had attacked me—simply to infuriate Kurama so that, when he fought Kurama in the ring at the Dark Tournament, Kurama would fight mostly out of anger, and, therefore, fight harder. He had wanted a challenge, as most demons did.
And infuriate Kurama he did. Karasu had died a short, painful death soon afterwards, which was a relief to me... because the creepy, invisible bomb-wielding demon had promised to finish the task of killing me if Kurama had lost the match against him.
Though, not all of us had escaped the Dark Tournament with our lives. I breathed a small, nearly silent sigh as another face rose up in the forefront of my mind.
Ryo.
Ryo was a boy that had complicated my existence for some time—by betraying the details of my power to Toguro, and by association, Karasu (because Karasu was on Toguro's team in the Dark Tournament.) Which had then screwed me over, because Karasu had known way too much when he came after me.
...But I owed Ryo my life, because he had then sacrificed himself to save me.
He had died in the attempt.
I pushed that thought from my mind, and thought back to the attack itself—not the confusing, saddening details that surrounded it.
Angering Kurama was the main motivation behind Karasu's attack... but the reason he had attacked me as opposed to anyone within our group of friends was that... well... Kurama loved me.
And the feelings were certainly mutual. I had ignored my own feelings for him for quite some time—because really, why would Kurama… perfect, handsome, intelligent, powerful Kurama—harbor any feelings for me? A tiny, inconsequential human psychic?
Fate certainly worked in strange ways, I mused as I glanced over at him. He felt my gaze and turned his head, sharing a brief smile with me before we both turned back to our notes. (Well, he was taking notes. I was barely paying attention.)
The fox demon had guided me patiently through the final exams that had snuck up on us while we—and the rest of our group—were fighting (and running) for our lives at the Dark Tournament. (Though Team Urameshi had been doing the actual fighting. I had successfully filled the 'running away' bit, and had done it well. After all, I was still alive, though now afflicted with a killer headache.)
Well, that was ancient history. Point was, I was deeply grateful to Kurama for helping me pass my first year at Meiou. Without his help, I was certain that I would've done badly on the exams... after all, I was supposed to be studying during the winter break, not running around on a remote island with malevolent demons after me. Not to mention fleeing for my life as the entire stadium exploded while my friends and I had made our narrow (and slightly singed) escape.
It was still hard to believe that all of that had happened, and that I could now be sitting here, in school for crying out loud—pretending to listen to a teacher that was now informing us of our strict uniform policy.
Tournaments, demons, and exploding stadiums. Oh my.
Those were the things of action movies, as my somewhat moronic, but really rather lovable friend Kuwabara had proclaimed many a time. Not a part of any normal existence, certainly.
But the definition of normal was probably the exact opposite of the definition that was typed out neatly under my name—Reina Shueisha. Professional demon zapper, as long as they were mosquito-sized and could just as easily be eradicated with a flyswatter. Girlfriend of (formerly) infamous demon bandit Youko Kurama, who was now a strange mix of demon and human—who also had, by demonic standards, 'gone soft' for the human race.
(Luckily for me.)
"—Reina..." Kurama hissed from the desk next to me, and I felt something bounce off the side of my head—probably an eraser or something. But it jerked me out of my haze, and I snapped to attention just in time to hear our professor call my name for what was probably the thousandth time.
"Shueisha," she growled, glaring at me. "Pay attention."
"My apologies, m'am," I muttered, straightening up (unwillingly) in my seat, and putting a little more effort into my 'I'm hanging on to your every word' façade.
"Are you all right?" I heard Kurama murmur quietly, as our teacher turned back to the papers on her podium.
"Fine," I whispered over my shoulder. Which I would be, once I was able to get my hands on some drugs.
Finally, after a too-long class, the bell rang shrilly, and I rose carefully to my feet, and headed to the bathroom.
Shaking two small aspirins onto my hand from a small baggy that I kept in my backpack, I popped them in my mouth and brought a handful of water to my mouth so I could swallow.
Then, with an inward sigh, I headed back to class.
"—So jealous that you got out of it. Chief tracked me down during the break—can you believe it? How desperate can you get...?"
I jerked back into the present, and noted, guiltily, that I had zoned out in the middle of a conversation with my talkative friend Hikari.
"Eh... what?" I asked stupidly, smiling a bit to repent for my lack of attention.
In my peripheral, I saw Kurama smirk at my absentmindedness.
"Yearbook," Hikari said, enunciating each syllable, leaning across the wooden expanse of the library table that Kurama, Hikari, and myself (Oh, and a boy that was in Hikari's class, who was watching the whole scenario shyly), had occupied.
It was break, and apparently naptime. Stupid pills. At least my headache was gone.
"Yeah," Hikari huffed indignantly, "Chief actually tracked me down during the holidays, and made sure that I was doing yearbook this year!"
"Why didn't you refuse, then?" I asked, lifting an eyebrow. "Like me? It's easy if you just pretend Chief doesn't exist..."
She threw her scarlet-clad arms in the air. "Because... well... you know...!"
My lips quirked upwards, and I nodded knowingly.
Chief, the Editor-in-Chief (I still didn't know what his real name was) was extremely pompous, and had taken a liking to Hikari—which was shortly after I had rejected his advances to me—with the excuse that Kurama and I were dating at the time. Which, at that point, had been a blatant lie... fabricated by Kurama in an attempt to save some of my brain cells from empty, awkward conversations.
Which I was eternally grateful for.
Point was, any time that Chief saw Hikari, he got this puppy-kicked-too-many-times-and-abandoned-in-the-gutter look on his scrawny features, and Hikari was a complete sucker for guilt trips. Though she owed him nothing.
"Yeah, I get it," I informed Hikari with a smirk, idly twisting a strand of hair that had managed to escape from my braid.
"He was trying to contact you, you know," Hikari told me in a conspiring whisper, leaning a little closer to me, as if Chief could hear her. The boy from her class (Haru, I think...?) shifted forward automatically, listening.
I lifted an eyebrow at her claim. "Oh?"
She nodded solemnly. "Yeah. He tried calling that camp thing that you and Shuichi," she nodded at Kurama, and he smiled innocently in return, "went to during winter break... but when he did, they said that you guys weren't even there! Weird, huh?"
"Very," I agreed absently, knowing full well that Kurama—or Shuichi, as he was called here, around people who weren't exactly aware that he was a demon—and I were not at any sort of camp at that time, academic or no. The only thing we really learned at the tournament was the art of survival.
We hadn't exactly been singing Happy Trails...
I grinned, and blew off Kurama's and my suspicious absence at math camp as a joke.
"You know, that was probably because I told the counselors to not give away Shuichi's and my presence if a boy with a high-pitched, irritatingly nasal voice asked for us..." I mused, tapping my chin in mock thought and smirking.
Hikari laughed rather loudly, and Haru started, waving at her for silence while nervously glancing over his shoulder at the librarian, who had poked her long, vulture-esque nose around the corner of a bookshelf and was currently glaring at our group through her spectacles.
Kurama and I then exchanged a knowing, amused look—our mysterious disappearance had been blown right out of Hikari's mind by my deprecating wit.
"Well, Haru..." Kurama said then, turning away from me and looking across the table at the black-haired, blue-eyed boy who seemed to be stunned at Kurama's recognition, "what did you do during winter break?"
Haru smiled hesitantly, shifting his gangly form so he sat a little straighter in his chair, and replied:
"Um... I didn't do much. I went on vacation with my family."
Kurama nodded, and, with a small wink in my direction, continued the conversation as he always did to complete his human façade—where Haru went, how he liked the Alps, whether or not his dad tried to snowboard... if his dad's ruptured hernia was doing well...
It was truly incredible how Kurama could take a small, uninteresting topic—and create a ten-minute conversation from it.
Hikari and I rolled our eyes at each other. Boys.
The day passed slowly... even if the aspirins had obliterated my headache. But I found myself watching the clock almost obsessively, while Kurama smirked in the background and our professors glared at my indifference to whatever subject they were teaching.
When the final bell rang, I bolted for the exit with the exuberance of an inmate breaking free from jail.
"Someone is unusually enthusiastic," an amused voice said behind me, as I paused on the front steps, sucking in a breath of fresh air.
"Oh, shut up, Shuichi," I retorted easily, using his human name because students were still milling about, within earshot. "I can't help it if I'm happy to be liberated. Don't make fun."
"Just an innocent observation."
I heard him take another step towards me, and turned, cocking my head and peering up at him.
I knew that smirk.
"Really, Kurama? In broad daylight?" I rolled my eyes. "And on the front steps of Meiou, no less. You must really be desperate..."
"How so?" he asked quietly, bending forward a little until I was craning my head back to maintain eye contact. A playful smile was creeping on his features.
"The Shuichi fanclub," I replied seriously, nodding. "They'll ensure that you become single in the near future if they see you kissing me." I frowned teasingly, lifting my eyebrows at him.
"Though you'll probably just pick up one of those drones on the rebound..."
It was Kurama's turn to roll his eyes, and he pulled back. "Well, naturally."
"Ladie's man," I accused with a smirk.
"You know that more than anyone."
I punched him lightly with a snort, shouldered my backpack more securely, and then we headed out.
My toes flexed against the padded surface of the balance beam, and I rolled my shoulders, drawing a deep breath.
I darted forward and whipped my torso downward—my hands reached out and found the surface of the balance beam easily, out of habit. My arms were strong and propelled me forward—
A sharp dagger of pain scattered my thoughts, and I hissed as the scar on my back seared.
I was driven off balance, and fell off the beam—my feet came up under me so I landed in a crouch.
I stayed crouched there, breathing heavily, and then gave up and fell back so I was laying on the mat. I stared up at the ceiling for a few seconds, and then gusted out an irritated sigh and threw my arm over my eyes, blocking out the fluorescent lights as the pain slowly ebbed away, retreating momentarily.
I felt Kurama's presence before I saw his shadow lean over me—I wasn't wearing the Barrier Stone; it was kind of hard to hide it while wearing a leotard.
"Reina? Are you injured?" he asked worriedly.
I closed my eyes against the burning I could feel welling up inside them, threw my arm off my face, and whacked my fist against the padding.
"He's dead," I murmured, opening my eyes. Staring past Kurama's concerned gaze at the ceiling, setting my jaw. "Karasu's dead. I will not let him continue to rule my life from the grave." With that, I rose nimbly to my feet, back throbbing. I grimly ignored the pain.
"I'm headed to the uneven bars—will you spot me?" I turned in the middle of walking and pointed at the long sleeves on my leotard, shrugging at him. "There's little to no chance you'll touch me with these."
Kurama was shaking his head before I even finished, and walked forward, resting his hand on my shoulder, smiling kindly, albeit sadly.
"Your determination is one of the many things I love about you," he said quietly, "but at this point, I think you're overexerting yourself. Perhaps you should stop for today." His eyes flicked over my features, assessing my expression.
My jaw set. I slipped out from under his hand and walked over to a nearby chalk stand, and dusted my palms and the bottom of my feet.
"Fine," I said as I walked past him, clapping my hands to remove the excess. His nose wrinkled slightly at the cloud of dust. "No uneven bars for today—but I'm still hitting the floor before we leave."
He sighed heavily as I strode towards an open expanse of padding. I halted at the edge of it and drew a deep breath.
A cartwheel (no, two) first, then a handspring, a few backflips… yes, that was good enough. If I could do that, maybe there was still hope for me. Maybe my life could truly return to normal.
I stretched my ruined back and broke into a sprint.
As I whirled through the air, the searing pain returned. It took all of my self-control to not shriek in pain, but I did grit my teeth unil my jaw ached, and finished the last part of my routine without seeing it.
I landed on the balls of my feet and stood there, bent over with my hands on my knees. Tears flowed unbidden over my cheeks, wrenched out from the pain, and I hastily dragged the back of my hand over my eyes before I straightened up and walked off the mat.
"See? I've still got it," I told Kurama as I stalked past him. He didn't speak, but I could feel his worried gaze on me as I retreated to the locker room.
We ended up walking as opposed to taking the bus—going straight to Kurama's house, because his mother had invited me over for dinner. And, besides, I didn't understand my homework in the slightest—and Kurama was a good boyfriend who had offered to tutor me.
Ms. Minamino had become inspired by a recent visit from her boyfriend's friend—who had been living in America for the past decade—and was now trying her hand at American cooking.
She had told me ahead of time that she was trying spaghetti for tonight. Which I was pretty sure was Italian, but...
Well, I didn't want to burst her bubble.
"Reina!" she cried as Kurama paraded me through the kitchen to see her, and she tossed the dishtowel she had been holding onto the counter. She reached forward and gathered me up, hugging me tightly. She then released me and held me at arm's length, beaming at me. "It's so wonderful to see you!"
"Hey, Ms. Minamino," I replied with a small laugh at her enthusiasm. "It's great to see you too."
"Shiori," she corrected with a fake glare, then beamed and turned back to the stove.
"Supper will be ready in twenty minutes," she called over her shoulder. "Kokoda and his father are on their way—you two can use the den to study until they get here."
"Thanks, Ms.—" Kurama's mother turned and lifted an eyebrow in my direction, "Er... Shiori." I smiled in repentance.
She smiled in kind, and shooed us away.
Kurama and I plopped down on the couch, and I reached for my backpack, mentally going through the list of homework I had to finish.
His hand took mine gently, and I looked up, brow furrowing in confusion.
Kurama smiled slightly. "There is time for that... later."
My lips quirked upwards. "You, shirking responsibility? When does that happen...?"
"When I am otherwise preoccupied," he informed me mildly, lifting an eyebrow infinitesimally.
"Ah. I see," I replied with a smirk, and settled back comfortably into the seat cushions, pulling my sock feet up next to me.
Kurama set one arm behind me—fingers brushing my shoulder lightly—and I leaned into his side after a beat of hesitation, after wondering for a moment if I was wearing the Barrier Stone. So I wouldn't electrocute him, and consequently knock myself out.
And I was. So it was okay.
"Earlier today..." he began, glancing down at me concernedly, "were you tired...?"
"I had a headache," I replied, shrugging. "I'm fine now."
"Hm."
"That was a very thoughtful 'Hm'," I noted, turning towards him slightly and shooting him a questioning look. He fidgeted a little under my stare.
"Just worried," Kurama assured me, but frowned slightly, averting his gaze and settling his arm more securely around my shoulders.
I lifted an eyebrow. "My turn," I informed him with a small smile. "Are you okay?"
Kurama, after hesitating for a moment, glanced down and studied me, eyes flashing over my face. That searching gaze again. I felt my features smooth out automatically—it was a vulnerable sort of feeling, having him look at me that way… so I subconsciously masked whatever I was feeling at the moment. I wasn't quite used to it yet; it was unsettling.
"I..." his frown deepened; it was thoughtful, not angry. "I cannot help but feel... unfulfilled, somehow." He flicked his gaze down, and reached out, absentmindedly tracing a finger over my hand. "It is... unreal, almost... to be back here. Continuing this way..."
I understood, and smiled sadly.
All of us—our entire group—had admitted to having mixed feelings about leaving the Dark Tournament. All of us definitely missed the excitement... the danger that had lurked behind every corner was, admittedly... almost addictive...
"Yeah. I almost wish something would happen, you know?" I finished my train of thought aloud, and looked away from Kurama's face. "Something to break this... habitual boredom. This dullness."
"That is... how do you say it...?" Kurama mused, lips quirking upwards as I glanced back at him.
He made finger quotes with his free hand. "'Asking for it...?'"
"Yeah, you're right," I allowed with a small chuckle that was barely heard, even by me, over the clanking of pots in the kitchen. "Famous last words, huh?"
Kurama nodded. "Do not misunderstand, though... I empathize with what you're saying completely."
My smile became wry. "Thanks." I almost felt guilty for feeling that way. It really was asking for it… and besides, the rush was not worth the danger. Or the loss.
We sat in semi-comfortable, thoughtful silence for a few more moments, then the opening of the front door announced Mr. Hatanaka's and Kokoda's arrival.
"Hey, kids," Mr. Hatanaka greeted when he saw Kurama and I on the couch. Kokoda, who was standing behind his father, grinned at me and waggled his eyebrows at the presence of Kurama's arm around my shoulders.
I rolled my eyes, shifting slightly so that Kurama and I were seated a little more distantly from each other.
Mr. Hatanaka headed into the kitchen to find out where the food was, and Kokoda, grinning toothily, seated himself on the couch next to me, so that I was squished between him and Kurama.
"Hey, Reina, Shuichi. Good to see you," he greeted, slouching in his seat and smirking down at me.
Gone was the shy, stammering boy I had first encountered a little over a year ago. Kokoda had become more at ease with the passing of time (not to mention, the development of his now-deep voice and the addition of a few more inches to his gangly frame,) and was now a good friend of mine. I was always happy to see him when I came over to the Minamino residence, because usually he and his father were here as well.
He had developed a sense of humor, as well. A pity that his jokes were usually at my expense.
...Like now—an unspoken insult to my height (or lack thereof.) Kokoda was resting his elbow on my head.
"Hey, just because you're freakishly tall for a punk kid does not," I emphasized the word, as I shoved his arm off my head, and gave him a mock glare, "make me your armrest."
Kokoda smirked. "Whatever you say, Shorty."
Oh, and that was another thing. I had acquired another nickname... which brought my count up to... three, I think?
I mentally ticked them off in my head.
...'Sparky' from Yusuke and Kuwabara (but mostly Kuwabara,) because, when I had first met them, I had incinerated a Makai insect in an explosion of sparks, much to their amusement...
...'Rei' from my demonic friend Jin, because he was verbally challenged (what with his thick Irish brogue) and apparently could not pronounce two syllables...
...And now Shorty. Because Kokoda thought he was cute.
I let out a slightly annoyed sigh, and Kurama smirked knowingly down at me.
Shortly afterwards, Ms.—eh, Shiori—called us for supper, and we kids all headed to the table.
Mr. Hatanaka talked about his work for a while, and I could tell that there was something off—a certain tone to his voice, like he was battling... nerves or something. His eyes kept flashing to Shiori, and when their gazes met, she would give him a small, knowing smile.
Finally, I couldn't take it anymore, and, with an amused half smile, I leaned across the table and lifted an eyebrow at the two of them.
"So..." I said simply, dragging out the word, trying not to smirk.
Mr. Hatanaka and Shiori glanced at each other again, and Kurama poked me in the side, trying to hide a smile.
"Oh, alright," Shiori said, and giggled like a schoolgirl. "I'll tell her..."
Shiori had actually giggled. I repeat, giggled.
"Tell me... what?" I asked a little apprehensively—the widening smirk on Kokoda's features was making me a little nervous, and I leaned back in my chair, glancing sidelong at Kurama, who smiled reassuringly.
The silence dragged for a few moments, while Shiori and Mr. Hatanaka sent each other messages with their eyes. It was a little amusing to watch, though my unease was growing.
"We're getting married!" Shiori exclaimed finally, beaming at Mr. Hatanaka.
My mouth popped open out of surprise, and I shut it to grin widely. "Hey, congratulations! That's... that's great!" I managed to say, working through my shock.
Of course, I reminded myself, It was bound to happen sooner or later. They'd been giving each other lovey-dovey looks ever since I'd known them.
"When?" I asked, with a smile as Shiori looked in my direction, still beaming from ear to ear.
"In the fall," she replied, but I could tell that she wasn't done by the way her eyes shone—not to mention the suspicious-looking smirk that Kurama shot in my direction.
He was plotting something... or at least in on whatever it was his mother was planning...
"And... we were wondering..." Mr. Hatanaka ventured after clearing his throat, reaching over and taking Shiori's hand with a tentative smile, "...if you could... record it for us. I remember... Shuichi saying that you were a talented photographer...?" he queried, rubbing the back of his neck and glancing at his (soon-to-be) stepson. "Isn't that right?"
"Yes, sir," Kurama replied politely with a small smile in both Mr. Hatanaka's and my directions.
I felt a shock. "You want me to be your photographer?" I said slowly, staggered.
Shiori smiled. "Yes."
I glanced at Kurama, who smiled in return, then Kokoda—who winked—just to make sure that I wasn't imagining things.
"Will... you do it...?" Mr. Hatanaka asked hesitantly, peering questioningly into my face.
I couldn't get the words out fast enough. "S-sure! I mean yes! I mean..." I grinned, "Definitely." I nodded once, quickly. "I'd love to."
My first photography gig, I thought excitedly, grin widening.
Mr. Hatanaka and Shiori both smiled, and Mr. Hatanaka settled back into his seat, smiling at me.
"Then... consider yourself hired."
I was still buoyant while Kurama was walking me home.
"I can't believe I didn't see that one coming!" I teased, grinning widely up at him.
Kurama smiled, chuckling under his breath. "That was the general idea... to surprise you."
"It worked!"
Kurama studied me for a second, then lifted his eyes to the sky, and smiled at some thought.
"What...?" I asked in a laugh, punching his arm lightly. "Spill the beans pronto, fox boy..." I must be really happy to be quoting Botan, the not-so Grim reaper—an entity who was also one of my best friends.
Kurama flicked his gaze back down to mine, still smiling softly. "You are... happy," he said simply, "and... that makes me happy, as well."
"I'm glad," I informed him, heaving a contented sigh. Then, something occurred to me, and I lifted an eyebrow at him, cocking my head slightly.
"But... how did you remember that I liked... you know, taking pictures?" I asked, blinking. "I mean... it's not like I've been running around with my camera swinging from my neck all this time..."
Kurama's features changed, became thoughtful, then he smiled again, and his arm—which was already resting casually on my shoulders—flexed and brought me closer to him.
"Precisely my point," he admitted, with a small, almost wry smile. "All this time... you haven't had a single moment... for the small things that you enjoy."
I blinked, surprised. "Oh."
The side of Kurama's face I could see—he was too close for me to get a full view—became happy, serene.
"At school, working for yearbook... you would... smile every time you lifted the camera... and I missed that."
There was a silence while I processed his words, and he glanced down at me, pausing on the dark, empty (save him and I) sidewalk.
"Thank you," I murmured finally, and, with nothing more needing to be said, we continued on in each other's familiar, silent company.
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