It’s late–for them it is always late. The stars above are static, they watch, they wait. There’s a soft breeze, rustling the grass between them, the infinitesimally small space. How long had it been since they had a moment’s reprieve from all the evil in the world? How long since they’d just–lived? Briefly, Yusuke can remember a time after the Dark Tournament–that span of a couple weeks where the world inhaled all the chaos, where there had been peace. That was nice–the time him and Kurama had spent nicer still.
Even then, there had been a sinking feeling in Yusuke’s stomach–that something was on the horizon, something bigger and worse than the previous baddie. And he’d been right ( all of the death he saw there, too–there in the deepest pits of his mind–overandoverandoverandover ), of course. This was different, this was constant–Kurama was a constant. He hated to be cliche, but in the depths of the night, he’d admitted it felt like he had known Kurama for much longer than the few years they actually had been acquaintances. That wasn’t an easy task–it came out stuttering, half-filled with laughter and a slight insincerity to his voice that made him question if Yusuke was being serious or not.
And of course he was. These days, Yusuke hardly ever laughed. That was something Kurama missed. But this night–this night filled with the occasional firefly and a lonely cicada–was different. Everything was different ( for them it’s always late–too late, too late– ). They’d spent the day sparring–with special limiters for their power developed by Genkai herself, of course–and now spend it atop a hill overlooking the reservoir. A place of reverence for Yusuke, something he had shared with Kurama in confidence a few months ago–a few months that felt like an eternity, now.
They’re laying side-by-side, pointing out what constellations they know, theorizing on what Koenma and the whole of Spirit World is up to currently. Neither one of them have a damn clue. It doesn’t matter. It’s time well-spent–that they can both agree on. The sun has started to peek over the horizon and it’s a gentle reminder of how long they’d really been out–how long they’d actually been, as Yusuke calls it, shooting the shit. As if in sync, their stomachs growl and they realize they haven’t actually eaten anything all night.
“Hey, Kurama.” his voice is soft, small–so unlike Yusuke Urameshi that Kurama almost has to do a double-take to make sure he hasn’t left the building.
He props himself up on his elbows, brushing his hair out of his eyes. This wind … “Yes, Yusuke?–this isn’t going to be another of your jokes, is it? my humor is spent for the night, i’m afraid.”
“Oh, fuck off..” he chuckles– and there it is. the boyishness that he had missed so much. the color in his cheeks. the tears in his eyes. it’s – and pushes enough away from Kurama for him to notice. “Didja ever think we’d live this long? I mean … back when you were a big bad fox thief’n shit.”
“Hm.” he muses on that, almost to the point of mockery–his hand is cupped around his chin, eyes closed. a smile on his face that rivals Yusuke’s own. “Truthfully, I hadn’t thought about it. I suppose I thought I would live forever. That might have been arrogance on my part. But when I was forced to recover–there was a moment of desperation and utter, paralyzing fear that my time spent was for naught. Far be it from me to spend it doing good–no … I believe it might have been me frustrated I was bested so easily. That the legendary demon fox Youko Kurama was forced to take refuge in the Human world. I was ashamed of myself.”
“Well, damn, Kurama. I know that part. I’m talking about before, way before all of–”
He shakes his head, holding up his hands. “No–no, I understand the question. During my recovery, as you know, I had my sights set on returning to form. I might have even thought of a grandiose entrance ceremony for myself, too.” a distracted laugh. “I guess I can’t give you an answer, Yusuke. Why do you ask?–don’t tell me you’re facing your own mortality so soon.”
“No–it’s not that. It’s–okay–I–I just don’t want to die again. I don’t want to leave all of this behind.” he gestures at the scenery around them, the sun further up in the sky now. it casts Yusuke’s face in an orange-red tint, makes him look much more youthful than he feels. “I don’t want to leave you behind, Kurama.”
Kurama remains silent for a few moments, simply staring. He wishes he could say he was struck dumb at the words–but this night they had spent together had said it all before Yusuke did. And then, without much thought, he begins to laugh. “Yusuke, I–”
Yusuke’s face twists into a scowl, then a frown. “Forget it. Let’s get some breakfast, I’m starving–”
“I feel the same way. You’ve fast become someone very important to me, Yusuke. Please don’t take my laughter as anything but.”
The breeze picks up, silencing the world around them. It’s a lonely, wailing sound–and the both of them turn to look away. To look at the sunrise, the rays causing the water in the reservoir to glisten. It’s truly a beautiful sight–had Yusuke not told Kurama the real reason behind the significance of this location, he would have seen why this was so important to the Spirit Detective.
When it comes down to it, Yusuke can be quite the romantic.
Something he ruminates on when Yusuke does it. He taps Kurama’s shoulder and as Kurama turns, he kisses him. Suddenly, the world is alive again. Cars honk in the distance, dogs fight with each other, someone’s radio snaps on and blares some absurdly loud song. It’s all he can focus on for the moment, eyes closed, leaning into the kiss–into Yusuke–into the world.
This isn’t the first time they had kissed and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, but it was the spontaneity of it all that caused Kurama’s heart to skip about a hundred beats. Yusuke pulls away, just enough so that Kurama is forced to open his eyes and see the boyishness return in full. There’s unbridled softness in Yusuke’s eyes, and it warms Kurama’s very soul.
“Now, are we going to get breakfast–or are you going to keep looking like you’ve struck gold?” he laughs just to hear his own laugh. “C’mon. My mom makes killer waffles. She puts it in the toaster oven for just long enough.”
“Yes–I–ahem. Very well. A toaster oven breakfast it is. Shall I pick up some syrup on the way?”
“Nah. We’re eating them on the way.”
“Oh? And where are we going so early? Aren’t you tired?”
“I got us a room that we never ended up using. If we hurry–we can grab a quick nap and sitll make the check-out time. C’mon, foxboy, hurry your ass up.”
And he’s off, barreling down the street. It’s so utterly human that Kurama simply stands and stares. Sometimes, Yusuke can be quite the romantic.
Yes, I do believe I have struck gold. “Wait up, Yusuke!” he calls, laughing.
“What’s that? You’re pretty slow in your old age, Kurama!”
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