Disclaimer: I own nothing of importance.

Chapter 1

A gray cat sat in an alley, licking its paws after a meal. When it was finished, it jumped up onto a dumpster, curling up and closing its eyes. The nap didn't last long as something landed on the lid next to it, startling the creature into flight. A young man straightened up from his crouching position, glancing back at the wall above him. The bricks were still rippling from his entry, but it was only a few seconds before they settled, appearing solid once more. The young man was wearing a denim jacket and white pants, with a backpack slung over his shoulder. His long, red hair flowed down his back, swaying slightly as he moved. Vibrant emerald eyes cautiously took in his surroundings, seeming to absorb everything without giving anything away. Satisfied no one had seen him exit the portal, the young man lightly jumped to the ground and headed towards the street.

It's only been three months, but if feels like much longer than that, Kurama thought, looking up at the blue sky. With Enki as the new ruler of Makai, I shouldn't have to return until the next tournament in three years. Three years. A lot can happen in that short amount of time. Yes, I believe it was just under three years ago that I first met Hiei, he mused, thinking over everything that had taken place since then. Arriving on the street, he looked around, getting his bearings before heading towards a train station that could take him further into town. I never really thought about the quiet life I led before. I would have to fight the occasional demon that came through, but even they were few and far between. That feels like an entire lifetime ago. And, in a way, I suppose it was. He closed his eyes, feeling the rays of the sun sinking in the sky on his cheek as a darker power stirred within him. He didn't need to see a calendar to know tonight was the full moon.

He reached the station, checking the time before looking at the schedule. After purchasing his ticket, he took a seat on the platform, focusing his attention inward while he waited. I was surprised Koenma actually removed the Kekkai Barrier. According to the rules of the tournament, Enki now has control of all of Makai. However, it still remains to be seen if the lords of every clan will obey him. I do not believe Yomi or Mukuro will give him any problems, and all of those previously under their rule will most likely follow suit, but still... And with Yuusuke back in Ningenkai, all those who were loyal to Raizen, and him as well by default, no longer have an example to follow. Then again, anyone who breaks the law will have to answer to Enki. The more powerful demons should follow him in deference to his victory at the tournament, and the weaker demons will likely be too scared to disobey. He shook his head, looking up as his train pulled into the station. He stood, shouldering his pack, and joined the boarding crowd.

It wasn't long before they were moving again, heading into the city. The redhead stared out the window, gazing unseeingly at the scenery as it rushed by. He let his thoughts wander, not paying attention to the other passengers as the train stopped at several more stations, letting people off as more got on. He snapped out of his reverie when the buildings outside became more familiar as they neared his stop. When the doors opened, he exited the train, his feet taking him down the well-known path that he had walked so often. The sun was sinking below the horizon as he climbed up the concrete steps, unlocking the door and letting himself inside. "I'm home," he called, removing his shoes before stepping into the foyer.

"Shuichi? Is that you?" Shiori asked, drying her hands on a dishtowel as she walked out of the kitchen. She smiled upon seeing her son, giving him a hug. "Welcome home, dear," she said, stepping back to look at him. "You should have called-- I would have had dinner ready for you. As it is, we just finished eating. I'll warm some up for you," she offered, moving back to the kitchen.

"Oh, Shuichi, you're finally back!" Kazuya said, seeing the redhead as he stepped into the hallway.

"Hello, father," Kurama greeted, smiling as the older man clapped him on the back.

"Shiori tells me you enjoy these camps that last months a time. I wish you could share some of that enthusiasm with your brother-- I can't seem to get him to go outside at all, these days."

"He's still enjoying his video games?" the emerald-eyed man asked.

The brunette nodded. "I don't know what games you gave him for his birthday, but he certainly does seem to enjoy them. Oh, it sounds like Shiori is fixing you something to eat. Why don't you go wash up?"

"I think I will," the redhead stated, climbing the stairs. He dropped his bag off in his room, heading to the bathroom to wash his hands. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, his piercing green eyes gazing back at him. Kazuya believed his lies as easily as his mother did. And why shouldn't he? the fox wondered, letting the cool water run over his skin. Shiori trusts me completely and I've done nothing to make him feel any different. Hiding the truth is almost disgustingly easy. As it always has been.

. . .

Kurama stood out in the backyard, hidden from view in the trees. He looked up and commanded the leaves to part, bathing his form in the moonlight. He stared at the pale orb hanging in the sky, feeling the power rushing through his system as his body changed. Once released, this power cannot be contained indefinitely, he thought, continuing to stare at the sky. My need to revert to my demonic form has remained consistent with the cycle of the moon. However, I need to learn to control that change outside of this cycle. The youko let his mind wander back to his fight with Shigure. Even when my life is threatened, switching forms needs to be a conscious decision-- not an instinctive reaction. I must be in control of my body-- I cannot afford to let it control me.

He stood there for a few minutes more, closing his eyes as clouds blocked the moon from sight. He extended his other senses, taking in all the smells and listening to the song of the night as he felt the flora around him. Everything was so alive, brimming with energy just waiting, begging to be unleashed. He allowed his lips to curve into a smile, resting one clawed hand on the trunk of a tree, feeling the power within the wood.

The smile fell from his face as he sighed, leaning his forehead against the uneven bark. Tonight, I'm a silver kitsune, hiding from ningen eyes in the shadows. Tomorrow, I'll be Shuichi Minamino again, hiding beneath the façade of an obedient son. The teachers will comment on my falling grades, due to absence and distraction when I have made it to class. Classmates will ask where I've been. And I'll spin more tangled webs of lies and deceptions, fooling them all. Convincing teachers to let me take exams I could have passed years ago. Apologizing for missing so much school. Assuring other students that all is well in the world of Shuichi Minamino. He shook his head, the rough bark scratching skin. Where does it end? Will it ever end? The sound of the back door opening caught his attention and his eyes opened, flicking to the side. His younger brother had wandered outside, wide eyes searching the darkness.

"Shuichi-san? Are you out here?"

Kurama sighed softly, feeling the power drain from him as he assumed his human form once more. His vision seemed to darken, the sounds of the world around him becoming muffled as his fully demonic senses were sealed away, leaving him with far above average human senses. "I'm over here," he called, stepping out of the trees.

The brunette turned, finding the faint outline of his brother's silhouette in the darkness. "Oh, there you are. Mom's looking for you."

The redhead nodded, knowing the other couldn't see the movement. "I'll be in shortly." He watched Suuichi return to the house before looking back into the sky. The moon was peeking out from behind the clouds, bathing the world once more in its pale light. He could feel his demonic side stirring just beneath the surface, yearning to be free once more. Turning, he followed his brother back into the house.

. . .

The sun had sunk below the horizon, the sky taking on darker hues as twilight wrapped the bustling city streets in its shadowy cloak. The streetlights would soon turn on, their harsh glare blotting out the stars. Kurama walked down the sidewalk, not giving the passing cars any notice. He wore a white button-down shirt neatly tucked into a pair of dark slacks, his long, red hair pulled back into a ponytail. One hand was in his pocket, the other holding a jacket tossed casually over his shoulder. His face was pensive; emerald eyes almost glazed as he stared unseeingly at the path before him. A stranger might look at the young man and think he was too distracted to notice if the apocalypse began raining down around him. But those who knew him knew better.

There was a soft rustle on the redhead's right. He did not give any indication that he had heard the noise, but his eyes snapped into focus, glancing towards the dark alley. His enhanced sight easily pierced the darkness, revealing three men skulking in the shadows. He caught the inconspicuous gesture from the one that seemed to be the leader, the other two standing at the unspoken command. Kurama's gaze slid back to the cement in front of him, listening to the men exit the alley and fall in behind him. He noticed they were careful to keep their distance, not wanting to cause any alarm just yet. His lip almost curled in annoyance. He was not in the mood to deal with this today.

Kurama ignored the muggers for the moment, keeping tabs on them while allowing his mind to wander. Yuusuke is no longer a spirit detective, and Hiei is off parole. I'm not sure about myself, though. The deal Botan made to convince Hiei to accompany us to the house of four dimensions did not extend to me. While I would like to have this matter settled, I do not think it would be wise to simply show up at Koenma's door. There is a very real possibility that he has forgotten about my parole, and I would rather not flaunt the fact that he didn't seal the portal Hiei and I used when we stole the items from his vault. After all, Reikai is supposed to be inaccessible to all but those who reside there.

His thoughts were interrupted when one of the men behind him quickened his pace, coming up on Kurama's left. There was a rustle of cloth, too high to be from walking-- pulling a concealed weapon from a coat, perhaps? --and Kurama tensed slightly without breaking stride, ready to spring at an instant's notice. The first man slowed his pace, falling back to his companions. From his shuffling footsteps, the kitsune would almost say the man was sulking. So, the leader called him back, he noted, letting some of the tension drain out of his shoulders. Although the men didn't pose much of a threat to the demon, it was still grating to pretend he didn't notice them, simply waiting for them to attack.

The group followed Kurama for two blocks before the redhead decided he'd had enough. Rounding the corner, he ducked into an alley, quickly making his way between the buildings. He sighed softly when he saw the route he had chosen led to a dead end. It would appear I'll have to fight, then, he thought, turning back to the entrance. He kept his features neutral as the first thug came around the corner.

"Well, what have we got here?" the first man asked, standing in the mouth of the alley to keep Kurama from escaping. He had blue eyes and bleach blonde hair that was cropped close to his scalp, with tattoos running up his arms.

The second man stopped next to the first, casually leaning on his companion's shoulder, despite the fact that he was the shorter of the two. "Looks like a pretty boy who got lost in the wrong part of town," he jeered, grinning at the redhead. He was bald, with a jagged scar running down the side of his face and several missing teeth. "Little birdy far from his cage."

The third man rounded the corner, standing on the other side of the bald man. "Perhaps we could offer him our services-- you know, 'escort' him home for a small fee," he suggested, also smiling hungrily. He was easily the tallest of the three and had brown hair that fell in braids to his chin, half of it pulled back to keep it out of his face. His eyes swept over Kurama's figure appraisingly, trying to decide how much money he might have on his person.

"Yeah, it's the least we could do," agreed the scarred man.

Kurama did not give any outward reaction to the thinly veiled threats. "That won't be necessary," he stated, gazing at them calmly.

"Ooo, little birdy thinks he can get home on his own," the shortest man said, rocking back on his heels, his grin growing wider. "Don't he know there are cats in the area? Cats like to eat little birdies. Little birdies don't stand a chance."

"Then I suppose it's a good thing I'm a fox," the demon returned evenly, laying his jacket on a nearby garbage can. He noticed the two larger men tensing slightly as he did so, both stepping forward to shield the shorter man. It would appear that the bald one is the leader, he observed, waiting for his opponents to make the first move.

"Little birdy wants to act tough, eh? Alright," the bald man replied, absently rubbing the scar across his cheek. The blonde pulled out a knife while the dark-eyed brunette cracked his knuckles menacingly. "We'll play."

At the boss's signal, the two thugs rushed forward. Kurama sidestepped the thrust of the knife before quickly ducking a punch from the tall man. He grabbed the wrist holding the knife as it came flying towards him again, bringing up his knee hard into the blonde's gut. The man was sent back into the wall, his arms wrapped around his mid-section as his knife clattered onto the ground. He gaped like a fish as he tried in vain to draw a breath, having had the wind knocked out of him.

The kitsune fell back as soon as the blonde was down, narrowly missing another punch from the brunette. Kurama caught himself on his hand, kicking both feet up and catching the tall man in the chest. The dark-eyed man grunted as he was knocked to the ground, his head narrowly missing a garbage can. The demon sprang back to his feet, darting forward as the blonde pushed himself away from the wall. The mugger tried to hit the agile fox, but Kurama ducked the blow, swinging his leg out and tripping his opponent. His hand caught the blonde's head as he fell, slamming it into the ground. The blonde didn't move.

Scooping up the dropped knife, Kurama leapt towards the brunette, landing on top of him and effectively knocking him back down. He brought the blade down, stopping as the sharpened metal just grazed the skin above his heart. He stared coolly into the panicked eyes, the smell of fear strong in his nostrils. "Enough," he said, his voice as even and calm as it had been before the fight. The thug eyed him warily, still frightened, but confused now as well. In a quick motion, the kitsune twisted his wrist, forcefully introducing the hilt of the knife to the brunette's temple. The tall man jerked from the blow before lying limply on the ground.

Movement from the corner of his eye caught Kurama's attention and he threw the knife, the blade embedding itself in the short man's arm. He cried out in pain, dropping the gun he had pulled out of his coat. He looked towards the redhead, meeting the cool gaze for no more than a second, before running out of the alley.

The kitsune snorted disdainfully, rising gracefully to his feet and retrieving his jacket. Pitiful mortals. It is truly a shame that the majority cannot sense energy. It would save me so much time, he thought, exiting the alley and continuing down the sidewalk. Of course, it is this very handicap that allows me to remain anonymous in this realm. Humans are so ignorant. He stopped walking, waiting for the light to change so he could cross the intersection. Reality seems to have been torn asunder for me this past year, yet life in Ningenkai goes on as if nothing has changed. I suppose it hasn't, for them at least. The three lords of Makai choosing and molding their successors in preparation for the upcoming battle after Raizen's death didn't affect the human populace. Nor did the demon tournament, which would determine the fate of Ningenkai. Disaster was adverted when Enki emerged victorious, and the humans continue living, completely oblivious. The light changed, allowing Kurama to cross the street. Not that I would have it any other way.

The shadows were deepening as the sky above grew darker, the streetlights coming on at some unseen signal. The redhead glanced at his watch, checking the time. I need to get home soon. Mother will be worried about me. Besides, I don't know when something else will come up. Fifteen years with nothing more than the occasional demon, and now I don't even know if I'll be able to spend one full month at home. I would almost be tempted to ask for a sign to know this was over, but at times it seems that my information network is more reliable that Koenma's. He sighed, shaking his head. A horn honked, drawing his attention to the road. A car swerved, the tires screeching as it headed for the redhead, the smell of burning rubber strong as the driver slammed on the brakes. With a tall building on his right and too much distance to cover between him and the last corner, Kurama ran the only way he could go: out into the road.

The redhead darted forward, doing his best to slip in between the cars. Drivers laid on their horns as the kitsune tried to make it to the median in the middle of the road. Cars jerked to the side, running into other cars and off the road as they tried to avoid the nearly-invisible pedestrian in the fading twilight.

Kurama jerked back, narrowly missing a sliding car. He caught a glimpse of the man driving it, face pale and knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel too hard. He was gone as quickly as he had appeared and the redhead was on the move again, doing his best to dodge the swerving cars behind him.

All too aware of the traffic camera in the intersection, no doubt catching all this on film, Kurama carefully hopped onto the back of a car spinning out of control as it headed right for him. He had hoped to get off the ground and perhaps a bit more out of harm's way by doing so, putting something solid underneath himself for the other vehicles to hit. However, his foot slipped on the newly waxed trunk and he fell right into the path of a van. He twisted his body, absorbing the impact on his left side instead of head-on. He felt his arm break from the force of the blow before he fell forward as the van slammed on its brakes. A strangled cry was torn from his throat as he hit the ground and rolled, forcing his injured body out of the way of the van's screeching tires. He stopped when he felt something solid at his back. The median, he realized, forcing himself up on the raised cement.

Kurama pulled himself to his feet, cradling his injured limb to his chest. Strength flowed throughout his body as his demonic energy surged forth. Emerald eyes widened, the owner knowing they were turning gold without the benefit of a mirror. No! I can't let myself change, not here! he thought, desperately trying to rein in the self-preservation reflex. He felt the changes slow, his nails turning to claws almost sluggishly, and redoubled his efforts to control the reaction. The transformation came to a grinding halt, his demonic canines half-formed while the most noticeable of the changes-- hair, ears, seven-foot tall body --had thankfully not yet occurred. The redhead didn't allow himself to relax at this minor victory, concentrating now on reversing the process.

Almost grudgingly, his teeth shrank back to the normal size and his claws receded. The power rushed through his body, burning in his veins, begging to be released, but Kurama forced it back ruthlessly. He allowed himself a small sigh of relief as his demonic energy settled, content to simmer just below the surface. His body was his own once more.

There were two heavy thumps behind him, followed by the squeal of tires across cement. The car almost stopped in time, but bumped Kurama hard enough to make him stumble forward, off the median a few steps before he could regain his balance. He looked up as a bus bore down on him, its loud horn reverberating in his ears. He tried to get out of the way, but wasn't quite fast enough. The bus slammed into him, easily cracking a few ribs from the force of the impact. He screwed his eyes shut against the pain and the sudden onslaught of energy as his demon side surged forth once more. He concentrated all his energies on remaining in his human form, despite his injuries. Some detached part of his mind noted he was airborne, undoubtedly thrown into the throng of cars by the bus. Control came easier this time as he hadn't let the transformation begin, but he didn't have long to contemplate the difference. He hit another solid object, the pane shattering as his skull came into contact with it. The driver, freaked out by the redhead who almost came through his windshield, slammed on the brakes and swerved to the side. Kurama slid limply off the hood, his leg getting caught just above the bumper as another car couldn't stop soon enough and hit the first vehicle. It pushed the first car a couple feet before coming to a stop, dragging the redhead with it.

It took a moment for the drivers to calm themselves to the point of being able to release the steering wheel. One got out, carefully making his way around the car towards the pedestrian. "Hey-- hey, buddy! You're-you're not dead-- are ya?" he asked, afraid he might have killed him.

The redhead's pale face was streaked with blood, his white shirt dirty and torn, the material slowly turning red. His hair had come loose from its binding, resting on the ground around him like a bloody halo. Several gashes were visible on his leg, the limb pinned in between the cars at an odd angle. Blood ran in rivulets down his calf, dripping steadily to the ground. He didn't move.

. . .

Kurama felt like he was floating. It was an odd sensation, feeling a thin mattress firmly underneath him, while experiencing a sort of listless buoyancy, almost as if he were floating on the surface of a pool. The impression faded somewhat as his other senses became more pronounced. The sharp smell of disinfectant assaulted his olfactory senses, making him wince at the intensity of it. Next, he noticed a beeping, loud enough to be somewhat jarring to his sensitive ears, tapping out a constant rhythm. There was another sound, a continuous whoosh of air. He felt the oxygen pushed into his nose the same time he noticed something resting inside his nostrils, running across his cheeks and back behind his ears. Continuing his inventory, he realized his entire body ached, the most prominent complaints coming from his left arm, his ribs, and his left leg, although the pain almost felt dulled somehow. He opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling for a few seconds before it came into focus. "A hospital," he whispered, belatedly realizing where he was.

"That's right. A hospital," a familiar voice on his right affirmed.

Kurama turned his head slightly, an ebony-haired teen coming into his line of sight. "Yuusuke," he greeted, his voice a little stronger.

"In the flesh," the toushin stated, smiling at his friend. "You look like you've seen better days, though."

Kurama tried to remember the events leading up to him being hospitalized. He frowned, pulling up a blank. "What happened?" he asked, looking to the half-demon for answers.

The smile fell from Yuusuke's face. "You don't remember?"

The kitsune shook his head carefully, aware of the bandages wrapped around his skull and not wanting to upset whatever injury was there.

"Well, you were in a car accident," the ex-spirit detective stated, leaning back in his chair.

The redhead blinked, obviously not having expected that answer. "A car accident...?"

Yuusuke nodded. "Yeah."

The kitsune was silent for a moment. "I survive the Makai Tournament against S class demons, emerging low on energy but little worse for the wear, yet end up in the hospital from a ningen car accident?" he asked incredulously. "If these casts are any indication, I'd say I have broken an arm and a leg, and with the pain breathing causes, I'd add several ribs to that tally." He looked back at the dark-haired teen. "Yuusuke, I've never broken a bone in my human life!"

The half-demon smiled at the irony. "Tell me about it. I'm tempted to take a Ferrari to the next tournament," he joked.

"A car accident," Kurama repeated. "Does Shiori know?"

The black-haired teen nodded. "Yeah, she was sitting in here with you when I got here. I guess she sent your stepfamily home hours ago. She's out gettin' some coffee right now."

The redhead paused as something occurred to him. "Do you realize," he began slowly, "that this is the first time in years that I will not have to hide my injuries from my mother? Or lie about how I received them?" he asked.

"See? There is a bright side to you getting in that accident. Now, you don't have to lie to your mom."

"I would hardly consider that to be the 'bright side,' Yuusuke. I would much rather lie to her than have her distressed because of my injuries," Kurama replied dryly. His brow furrowed as a thought occurred to him. "Exactly how did you find out I was here? Did you witness the accident?" he inquired. His lips curled up into a mischievous grin. "Or, could it be you were the one who hit me? Working out a bit of pent up frustration toward me for some wrong in the past, perhaps?"

The half-breed laughed. "Nah, nothing like that. You know I'd rather fight you in a fair fight, any day. No, you made the news, buddy. They didn't give out your name, but I've seen your mangled body enough times to recognize you," the half-demon stated, smiling.

"I suppose that's true," the redhead replied, returning the smile. He sighed, looking down over his bandaged body. "All this damage from one car..."

Yuusuke scratched the back of his head. "I'm a bit fuzzy on the details, but I think you were hit by at least three different cars," he said. "You always have to one-up the other guy, don't you?"

The emerald-eyed man blinked in confusion. "I'm not sure I understand what you mean..." he began.

"The accident, Kurama. I got hit by one car, so you get hit by three. I died, so you lived. Next, Koenma's going to make you the new Spirit Detective."

The redhead chuckled softly, quickly stopping as pain shot across his chest. "Highly unlikely. I have the same problem you did," he said, grimacing, his voice slightly strained.

"What? You don't like taking orders from a toddler still in diapers?"

"I'm a demon."

"Oh, that." Yuusuke waved it off. "Yeah, but he likes you. Besides, he knew you were a demon right from the get go."

Kurama smiled as he turned his head back, staring up at the ceiling once more. As he concentrated, pieces started coming back to him. He recalled futilely dodging between the cars, his body instinctively reverting to his demonic form after the first car hit him... "Ah, yes. I remember now," he said softly, his mind going back over the incident. He smiled ruefully, wondering if he would have ended up quite as injured if he had allowed himself to be hit by that first car that swerved off the road initially. "It was quite a mess, from what I recall."

"Yeah, they said it was some woman's fault-- was turned around playin' with her kid and swerved into the other lane, almost hitting the car next to her. When she noticed, she swerved back, but overcorrected and ended up on the sidewalk." The black-haired teen clasped his hands behind his head, leaning back in his chair. "You made quite a mess out in the road, too. Cars piled up all over the place, a number of them smashed into each other-- no fatalities, but a lot of injuries, although not one nearly as bad as you. Never thought I'd say this, but it's easy to forget how fragile humans are. The woman and the kid are alright, though-- ended up running into a street sign by the stoplight, which kept them from hitting anyone waiting at the intersection."

"A sign...?" Kurama interrupted, looking back at Yuusuke. That word sparked something in his memory and he tuned out the adolescent, trying to remember what it was. Sign: a notice posted with a warning or advisement; a trace left by something that has passed by; a signature on a letter or formal document; a gesture used to communicate in a non-verbal language; a message sent via divine intervention-- He paused, his eyes widening slightly in understanding. He began to chuckle then, the sharp pains in his chest not enough to stifle his mirth.

Yuusuke paused, looking at the kitsune as if he'd grown another head. "Would you mind sharing with the class?" he asked, sarcasm obvious in his voice.

"Oh, I'm sure the painkillers are making this much more humorous to me than it would be to you," the redhead said, still smiling. "Apparently, Inari has a sense of humor."

The toushin blinked. "What does that mean?"

"Before the incident, I was thinking about everything that has happened over the last few years. They haven't exactly been normal, what with the various missions and tournaments," Kurama explained.

"You can say that again," the teen agreed. "Heck, I died twice and became a demon."

The emerald-eyed man inclined his head. "Indeed. Even when we thought we would get a break for a while, something else came up and we were all thrown into the chaos once more. Naturally, I wondered if this time would be no different."

"Now that the barrier has been removed between the two worlds," Yuusuke stated, nodding to show he was still following the demon's logic.

"For a number of reasons. Well, at some point in my musings, I thought about asking for a sign to let me know that this was truly it, and we could continue on with our normal lives-- as normal as they can be, at any rate," he finished.

The half-demon waited for a few seconds. "I still don't get it."

Kurama chuckled again. "I ask for a sign and I get in a car accident."

The toushin snorted. "You should know better than to ask deities for favors, Kurama."

The redhead did his best to shrug, flinching slightly. "It was not a serious request, Yuusuke. It was more of a passing thought, one that someone may have seen fit to answer."

"By causing a car accident and injuring you more than you were in any of the missions or tournaments?"

The youkai simply continued smiling. "What more human of an experience could one ask for? It is a bit difficult to gloat about demon superiority from a hospital bed, especially when one was put there by a ningen invention."

"True enough, I guess. Human car: 1, demon: 0," Yuusuke said, laughing. "Although, I suppose the score would be 3:0, seeing as you were hit by three cars."

"Same accident; only counts as one," Kurama replied, gasping slightly as he tried to sit up. Yuusuke was quick to assist him, adjusting the bed to a more upright position. The redhead leaned back against the pillows gratefully, nodding his thanks. "Besides," he continued, slightly breathless, "if I were on the 'offensive,' you know enough of the cars wouldn't have survived to be used even as scrap metal. Surely, I get some points for still breathing on my own?"

The toushin laughed. "Hey, the fact that you were landed in the hospital while the cars are still out there in fully working condition, if a little dented, means you get nothing for this round," he stated. "You were unconscious for almost twelve hours as it is. If you weren't a demon, I think you might have ended up in a coma from bashing your skull through that windshield."

"Twelve hours?" the kitsune repeated, his voice a little shocked. I must have been severely injured if I was unconscious for so long. If I were a normal ningen.... He let the thought trail off, berating himself for his carelessness as he reached into his hair. Yuusuke watched as he pulled out a seed, leaves already sprouting as it grew into a small twig. Kurama waited until the leaves turned from peridot to a deep forest green before biting one off. He maneuvered it underneath his tongue, feeling the familiar icy sensation spread across his mouth and down his throat. Knowing it would only be a few moments before the cold penetrated his entire body, he used his energy to shrink the sprig back into a seed and replaced it in his hair, pulling the coarse, white blanket higher up on his chest.

The toushin raised an eyebrow as Kurama tried to snuggle under the thin blanket. "Are you cold?" he asked, rummaging through the storage cabinets in the room in search of another cover. "What's with the leaf?"

"I will be," the redhead replied. "Sealing my demonic healing ability, even temporarily, leaves me feeling as though I've been caught unprepared in a snow storm." He shook his head, raising his good arm to glare balefully at the IV inserted in the back of his hand. "I need to get off these drugs soon. I cannot think clearly with painkillers dulling all my senses. Honestly, would it kill ningen to feel a little pain once in a while?" He closed his eyes, visibly regaining his composure. "I need to be careful," he murmured, talking more to himself than to his friend. "I should have taken that herb upon waking. As it is, I hope they don't want to take any more x-rays before I leave."

"Aha!" Yuusuke cried, straightening up and turning back to the redhead. "Found one," he stated, holding the folded blanket up like a prize. He moved back over to the bed, spreading another white cover over his injured comrade.

The kitsune smiled. "Thank you, Yuusuke."

"Shuichi?"

Both males glanced towards the new speaker in the doorway. Her fading brown hair was pulled back in a low bun at the nape of her neck, several strands falling loose from the restraints. She wore a floral dress that came down past her knees, her black purse clutched tightly in one hand with a Styrofoam cup in the other. Seeing her son gazing back at her, Shiori rushed over to him, hurriedly setting her purse and coffee on his bedside table.

"Oh, Shuichi, I'm so glad you're awake!" she said, carefully giving him a hug. "The doctor didn't have much hope of you waking again, and certainly not this soon!" She laughed nervously, blinking against the sudden onslaught of tears as she tenderly stroked his cheek. "You gave me quite a scare, young man."

"I'm sorry," Kurama apologized. "It was not my intention to cause you pain."

"Don't," she said, putting a finger to his lips. "I'm just happy you're still with us." She hugged him again, holding him as tightly as she dared. "I don't know what I would have done if I had lost you," she whispered.

Yuusuke coughed loudly, reminding Shiori she wasn't alone with her son. "Well, I hope you feel better, man," he said, moving to the door. "And next time, make sure you keep better control of your thoughts-- and stay on the sidewalk."

Kurama laughed lightly, catching the reference that was lost on his mother. "I'll try to keep that in mind," he replied.

"Yuusuke," Shiori said, moving towards the teen. "Thank you-- for staying with him."

The black-haired teen shrugged. "Don't mention it." He looked back at Kurama, giving him a two-finger salute. "I'll catch ya later, ah, Shuichi. Oh, yeah." He turned back to Shiori. "If the nurse asks, tell her I'm his cousin," he whispered conspiratorially.

Shiori laughed. "If they ask, I will. Tell your parents I'm sorry for keeping you so long-- they must be worried. You did call and let them know where you were, didn't you?" she asked.

"Nah, mom was probably already passed out when I got here. She won't know the difference. Later!" he called, disappearing around the corner.

Shiori looked a little shocked at the black-haired teen's casual dismissal. "What did he mean by that?" she asked, staring after him.

"Yuusuke doesn't exactly have the best home life," Kurama explained. "He manages alright, though."

The brunette was silent for a moment. "You have a good friend in him, Shuichi," she said, turning back to her son.

"Yes, I do." More so than you'll ever know, he thought, remembering facing off against Team Masho in the Dark Tournament. He wasn't conscious for the actual event, but he had been told later about Yuusuke's daring move to end the 'match,' if it could even be called such, between Bakken and himself. Kurama had passed out from energy loss after his fight with Touya; but, as he was still standing and still in the ring, was officially the next fighter. Bakken was more interested in a punching bag that didn't fight back than a fair fight. Yuusuke refused to stand idly by and watch. It is fortunate that Risho called Bakken off. Yuusuke would have started a riot, at the very least, had he actually attacked the ninja at that point.

"Shuichi?"

He blinked, bringing his mind back to the present as his eyes focused on Shiori's worried face.

"Are you alright, dear?" she asked, concern coloring her tone.

I have a head injury. If I allow my mind to wander, it will only cause mother to worry more. He smiled reassuringly. "I'm fine, mother. The painkillers make it a bit difficult to focus," he stated.

Shiori accepted the explanation, looking a bit guilty. "I'm sorry-- I'm keeping you up while you should be resting."

"I'm fine," he repeated. "But, you look exhausted. You should have gone home and gotten some rest with Suuichi-kun and father," he chided. "I'll still be here in the morning."

"My silly little Shuichi," she said, lightly pinching the tip of his nose. "Always so logical. I can do without a bit of sleep now and then."

"I would rather you not compromise your health for my sake. Especially when there is nothing to be done but wait," he said.

Shiori was silent for a moment, her hand idly brushing his hair out back behind his ear. "Do you remember when I collapsed the first time and was rushed to the hospital?" she asked.

Kurama nodded, knowing he would never forget the fear he felt that day. He knew his mother was mortal and would one day die, but it had always seemed so far away. When she was diagnosed, the point was made with startling clarity that she could be taken from him at any time.

"I don't remember much before I passed out," she admitted, her gaze on the IV tube she held between her fingers, slowly rolling it back and forth. "But, the first thing I saw after waking up was you sitting by my bed, waiting for me to open my eyes. I just wanted to be here when you came back, like you were for me," she said, looking into his eyes.

Kurama shook his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You're so sentimental, mother," he said, pulling his good arm out from underneath the blanket. He wrapped the limb around her shoulders, pulling her close as he gently kissed her forehead. "Thank you."

. . .

The End

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