Coffee Time

By Morgan D.
 

Yu Yu Hakusho’s lovely characters don’t belong to me. Presumably they’re owned by Yoshihiro Togashi, Shueisha, Studio Pierrot, Fuji TV, Jump Comics, and god-knows whom else.
I don’t claim any authorship over Santa Claus or any other character from Christian folklore and western mythology either. Kurausu, Zaitaa, Grudo and Kurissyn Masha are mine, but they’re available to lending.

A pinch of Shounen Ai, massive portions of silliness.

PEEEP ...

PEEEP ...

PEEEP ...

*gluck*

    “Hi, baby! If you called to Urameshi Atsuko thinking she would be here sulking instead of partying, dancing and having the fun of her life some place else, either you have the wrong number or you’re way out of your mind.

    But you can try leaving a message; I come home to change clothes from time to time. Bye!”

    Urameshi Yusuke shook his head, sighing his exasperation. “It’s me, Mom!” He thought for a second and added, “Your son, Yusuke”.

    With Atsuko, you never know. “I sincerely hope you’re home and still sleeping, Mom. You’re not in any condition to another party, not after all you drank last night.” Yusuke pulled his hair back at the aching recent memories cramming his mind. “Mom, do you really hate me that much? I mean, why did you have to flirt with my father-in-law in the Christmas Eve dinner? And Keiko’s already damn frightened; blabbering about how painful was your labor when I was born didn’t help much!”

    Yusuke huffed helplessly. Lecturing an answering machine wouldn’t help much either. “Well, I just called to see if you’re okay. I’m at Genkai’s temple with the gang. Call me when you wake up and let me know if you still have a liver.” He gave the number and hung up, pacing back to the large room where his friends were gathered.

    To be honest, Yusuke had to admit his own liver wasn’t all that better. He also had drunk a lot the night before, and only twelve hours after he was already stoned again. It was unavoidable, wasn’t it? Christmas Eve had been or families. But there was no way he could be away from his closest friends
on that day. And calling friends to a major party without booze... Not even Genkai had ever resisted to the traditional December 25th spree.

    Yusuke halted just before entering the room. He smiled sweetly to himself, recalling his old master. Yukina kept the temple just like it was when Genkai lived, and every time Yusuke wandered around that place he expected to find the elder fighter just behind that door, or just around that tree,
her grayish-pink hair falling over her eyes, a saucy smile on her kind wrinkled face. It was not an unpleasant sensation. Genkai’s second death had been sad and abrupt, but peaceful – not at all like the one at Toguro’s hands. This time there was no one to blame, no treacherous old friend, no
need for retaliation. Only time, and it’s inescapable passing.

    *You mustn’t forget your friends, Yusuke*, she had taught him. *You are never alone*. More than any fighting technique, this single lesson had been the one to save his life and his soul several times. Naturally, the house where the wise shihan had lived could be the only place to shelter that
party. Aside any kind of religious rites, Christmas was the perfect excuse to bring everybody together for celebrating life and enduring friendship. “Merry Christmas, Obaasan!” Yusuke whispered to the walls, relishing in the cool perfume of the wood. “You’re not alone either”.

    “REIKEEEN!!!” THUMP! BONK! CRASH! THUD!

    “But perhaps you wish you were...” Yusuke closed his eyes and took a *deep* breath before getting into whatever mess Kuwabara had just made inside.

    Except for Botan and Koenma – unfortunately Christmas was a very busy period for both of them, with the shocking but customary increase in murders and suicides in Ningenkai - all his closest friends were there. They sat assembled around a low rectangular table close to the fireplace Hiei had lighted in the morning – both yellow and dark flames crackled eagerly, fed only by the youkai’s fiery ki. The table held many empty bottles and a lot more of sake-filled glasses. The open boxes of the gifts they had just exchanged were scattered on the floor. All dishes had been removed to the kitchen shortly after the rich banquet they had savored; only Yukina still held on her lap a bowl of a blue ice cream Kurama had made from some eerie fruits Hiei had brought from Makai. Amazing how the Koorime twins could manage freezing food in that freezing weather... Yusuke had put a single drop of it in his mouth; it was surely delicious, tasting like honey, oranges and ginger, but he still felt a lump on his tongue every time he tried to speak a longer word. *Or maybe it’s just the sake...* he thought.

    Obviously the sake had made other victims. Kurama’s cheeks matched his hair, a hand trying to muffle his nonstop giggling. He sat on one of the three sofas they had arranged there to make them comfortable at the party, and Hiei had settled down on the floor at the Youko’s left, arms loosely
embracing his knees but a very hard grip protecting the cup in his hand. The crimson eyes seemed somewhat unfocused, despite the mocking grin enlightening his face.

    At Kurama’s right was Shizuru, her tanned skin denouncing the two-week trip that allowed her to enjoy her vacations under a late springtime sun in Brazil. Yusuke growled. Even sloshed, she would still exchange those ‘cursed female glances’, as he called them, with his wife, who sat alone in the sofa across from her. He never knew what those glances were about, but it was impossible to miss the laughing scorn on them. And Yusuke was quite sure he – and sometimes men in general – was the everlasting subject being silently ridiculed by those jeering eyes.

    On the third sofa a frantic Yukina tried to help a clattering Kuwabara to his feet. The range-haired man was wrapped up in a gigantic white tunic with red and golden embroideries, too long sleeves entangled around his thighs, one of his shoulders sticking out the broad collar, part of the fabric reaching the ground and trapping one of his ankles. It looked as if Kuwabara had tried one of Toguro’s clothes.

    “Did I miss anything?” Yusuke sniggered.

    “Oh, just my brother making a fool of himself,” Shizuru grumbled. “I’m sure you’ll have the occasion to see him do it again.” Yusuke breathed out, relieved. At least this time the ‘cursed female glance’ wasn’t for him. “Did he tried to kill Hiei again?”

    Hiei snorted. "I have no idea of what he was trying to do. But it seemed more like he was trying to scratch his nose with his heels. Both heels at the same time.”

    "I bet *you* can’t do that, baby,” Kurama ventured.

    Yusuke bit his lip hard, so he wouldn’t laugh at Hiei’s thoughtful grimace. The shorty was actually thinking about a way to do that... He tossed the phone to Kurama. “Thanks.”

    Kurama attached the phone to his belt. “You’re welcome. Atsuko-san is okay?” “Hope so. Got the answering machine.” Yusuke sat down beside Keiko, still gaping at Kuwabara, who had finally managed to get to the sofa, but still looked a lot like a mammoth cocoon. “What IS that?” he asked, indicating the overlarge tunic.

    “It’s Yukina’s Christmas present,” Keiko explained. “She exaggerated a little on the measures, I suppose.” “You suppose?!” Yusuke eyed his wife quizzically.

    “Hn. I told you, Yukina,” Hiei snarled. “You always think he’s bigger than he really is.” “Oi, shut up, shrimp!” Kuwabara was almost getting his arms free with the help of the Ice Maiden, and looked forward to put them at use.

    Keiko just shrugged. “Anyway. Kuwabara was very grateful, said the tunic was perfect, and wanted to show us how the it fits marvelously when he draws his spirit-sword.”

    Yusuke gave up on holding his laughing. “Yeah... marvelously! It fits him like nothing else...”
“URAMESHI!!!” Kuwabara tugged furiously at the white silky fabric, attempting to free at least one tight-clenched fist...

    “Kazuma! Be careful!” Yukina pleaded. “You’re gonna rip it apart...”

    “Oh... I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Kuwabara’s face showed a deep shade of red. “I don’t want to bruise this sp’enjid...*hm-hm* splendid treasure you offer to your devoted husband, Yuki-chan.”

    Hiei groaned aloud. “K’so, and I thought ‘Kuwabara Kazuma the man, paladin of Love’ was hard enough for my ears. Shove me the bottle,” he asked his sister.

    “But your glass is still full, Kyodai,” Yukina objected.

    Hiei widened his eyes, pulling his cup close to his nose to verify her statement. He seemed authentically surprised as the vision in front of him corroborated her version of the facts. Hn. He shrugged, drank it all in one draught and extended his bandaged hand to the bottle, presenting a deranged smile to Yukina.

    “Maybe I should make some coffee,” a very disturbed Keiko suggested, preparing to the great exertion of sliding to the edge of the sofa and force her six-month pregnant body to stand up.

    Yusuke held her tenderly, passing an arm over her shoulders and whispering in her ear. “Not yet. Wait for things to get really weird.” Sure Kuwabara was stumbling on words - and his own clothes. Yukina had already let two imprecations slip from her delicate lips. Shizuru had just described by now the physical attributes of every man she had met in Brazil. Kurama seemed very close to grow his furry ears and tail and start some wild erotic demonic dance. Hiei was almost acting like a normal person. And Yusuke himself felt like embracing them all with emotive tears and grateful speeches, or challenging them for their own private tournament, or maybe both. But none of their parties had ever ended without a memorable, hilarious, utterly embarrassing event. It was just too soon for coffee.

    Of course, some events had been more turbulent than others. The New Year’s Eve when Kurama turned into his four-tailed fox form and raced after Genkai’s pet rabbit had been nothing like the last Kuwabara’s birthday party, when Yukina started to prattle on Hiei’s acrophobia. She justified his fears by telling everybody how he had been thrown down an abyss when he was less than one-day old, completely oblivious to the fact that she wasn’t supposed to know Hiei was her brother, much less that he was afraid of heights. Yusuke nuzzled Keiko’s long hair, giggling to himself. The lost,
dumfounded look on the Fire Demon’s face when two of his most guarded secrets were tossed in the open by the one person who shouldn’t know anything about them...

    But some *other* events... Yusuke shuddered. Fortunately Keiko had been wise enough to avoid any alcohol since she found out about her pregnancy. Yusuke knew how embarrassingly dreadful the combination of shy well-behaving Keiko with liberating strong drinks could be. He remembered all too well the weird consequences of a major guzzling at a dinner they offered to Hiei and Kurama
almost a year before. Of course, they were *all* drunk, and they were *all* very willing to daring, impulsive actions. Keiko might have been the one to put the wheels rolling then, letting her tongue move before her brain had analyzed the full implications of what she was saying, but she did nothing
on her own.  And Yusuke had to admit he didn’t regret a thing and, although neither he nor Keiko had ever mentioned the episode afterwards, he was sure she wasn’t repentant either.

    Yusuke gazed at his two demon friends across the table. Despite the cold, Kurama was undressing his heavy sweater, probably warmed inside by the sake, and outside by his mate’s burning aura. Hiei’s powers had grown like crazy under Mukuro’s arduous training, and on his present state he simply couldn’t keep them in check. The air around him was just as hot as it was near the fireplace, but Kurama looked pretty comfortable with it.

    *They seem to have such an easy relationship, much easier than mine with Keiko,* Yusuke reflected. Right, it could be only outward appearances. But he was sure Kurama and Hiei got to talk a lot about that night and were completely cool about all that had happened then. Demons could be like that.

    But Yusuke still felt far too human. And Keiko... As astounding as it all had been, he had felt terribly awkward on the day after, bearing an unbelievable hangover and fearing their common friendship might have been affected somehow.

    “Yusuke,” called Kurama, hauling him up from his thoughts. “You didn’t say if you liked our present.”

    Yusuke blinked, looking at the muddle of torn colored papers on the floor around him. “Ahn... sorry, which one was yours?” he mumbled.

    “This one,” Hiei pulled a red package from his pocket and handed it to Urameshi, lazily stretching his arm to reach him.

    *He didn’t fling it to me,* Yusuke thought. *He knows how stoned he is.*

    “Damn!” Shizuru rose to his feet in a clumsy move. “I forgot!” With that she tottered out of the room.

    Ignoring her outburst, Yusuke took less than two seconds to have his present
unfolded. “What???”

    “What what?” Kuwabara’s muffled voice came from under the tunic he was trying to pull over his head. Like that, he couldn’t see a thing.

    But even if he could, he wouldn’t be able to recognize the small circular mirror, just a little broader than Yusuke’s hand. A raw chain was attached to the olive-colored frame carved with opaque blue-gray gems rounding the dusky glass sheet. The hand trembled.

    The Mirror of Utter Dark.

    “Oh no,” Yusuke murmured. “Please tell me you guys didn’t do it again...”

    Kurama offered him one of his warmest smiles. “Don’t worry, Yusuke. It’s a replica.”

    “You broke the real one, remember?” Hiei gnarled.

    Yusuke couldn’t help flinching at the hostile tone. Hiei obviously remembered that quite well... when he had been defeated by a mere human... with the most unfair luck.

    “Besides,” Kurama added, “Koenma-sama still increases the guard around the Treasure Chamber when either Hiei or me are in Reikai. I guess he only trust us just as far as he can throw us, even after all this time.”

    Hiei yawned. “As if those stupid weaklings could ever stop us if we wanted to rob it again...”

    Yusuke held the mirror with steady hands now. The Mirror. The Reikai Treasures. His first real mission as a detective. Kurama’s mother. Fighting Hiei. Wishes coming true.

    Had he really feared for their friendship?

    “Thank you, guys.”

    Kurama winked. Hiei snorted. Yusuke wanted to grasp them both in a passionate group hug. *Too much sake,* he thought.

    “What is it?” Keiko asked, inspecting the small object in her husband’s hand.

    “It’s the... ahn...” Yusuke exchanged glances with Hiei. “It’s a very good story to tell our kid. A real one.” Keiko didn’t remember a thing about that episode, and he wished to keep it that way. Learning that Hiei had tried to kill her wouldn’t please her at all, and it wouldn’t be good for family
harmony.

    “Why are you so eager to give your child horrible nightmares?” Keiko moaned.

    “Hey, Red!” Shizuru rejoined them, carrying a large square box in glitter-green paper in her arms. “You got one more,” she said, dropping her charge on Kurama’s lap.

    Hiei stared suspiciously at the size of the box. “Too big. Why are you giving him something that big?”

    “Don’t you think he deserves it?” Shizuru was amused by the red jealous eyes shooting daggers at her present.

    Hiei’s murderous stare turned to her. “What do you want from him?”

    Yusuke smirked, leaning forward to get a better look of the packet. “Shizuru, you do like to live dangerously. You should give that one to me.”

    “You?” She picked back the cigarette she had left on the ashtray. “Care to tell me why?”

    “Keiko doesn’t have a raging Black Dragon attached to her arm.”

    "A very good point,” Hiei agreed, toying with the right sleeve of his dark blue jacket, showing the edges of the firm wards that covered the black tattoo.

    But Yusuke had doubled over his stomach, which had received a remarkable Christmas present from Keiko’s elbow. “On the other hand,” he panted, “who needs a dragon?”

    Disregarding the commotion around him, Kurama studied the big lavish packet with large inquisitive eyes, careful fingers searching for the opening.

    “Don’t shake,” Shizuru cautioned him, returning to her seat. “It barely survived the flight back to Japan.”

    The warning was totally unnecessary. While Yusuke was the sort of person who goes through his presents in a rash urge of curiosity, ripping papers and ribbons and pasteboard boxes apart, Kurama would loose each bow, each adhesive-tape scrap, undoing each fold of paper as if he was picking a very difficult lock.  Or disarming a bomb.

    Yusuke cursed under his breath. *He* was curious to see what was inside that big box. Thanks to Shizuru, now Kurama redoubled his care, and cut by half his speed.

    “So you brought this from your trip too?” was the redhead’s question.

    “Of course she did,” Yusuke prompted in. “She just arrived two days ago! What did you think? Now stop talking and open the damn thing!”

    “Yusuke!” Keiko nudged him roughly.

    “C’mon, aren’t you curious too?” he protested, raising his hands to protect his sore belly from her baleful elbow.

    “Don’t you like surprises, Yusuke?” Kurama winked mischievously, and started to hum a strip-tease tune while unfolding the packet in a *very* slow motion, in a deliberate teasing.

    “No, I don’t,” Yusuke asserted under a fierce blush.

    “Me neither,” replied Hiei’s deep bass voice. When Yusuke turned his eyes to the small demon, he arched his eyebrows in amusement. Hiei had pulled his bandanna up his brow and was looking at the box, or better, *through* the box, with his open purple-gleaming jagan. His features soon turned from boredom into puzzlement. “What is he supposed to do with that?” he asked Shizuru.

    Kurama pulled the bandanna down Hiei’s brow none-too-gently. “Baka. Don’t tell me.”

    “Just because Kurama chose *you*, it doesn’t mean his sense of aesthetics is completely damaged, lover boy.” Shizuru had found new pleasure in teasing Hiei since the two demons ‘got out of the closet’, as she had put it several times. Now Hiei began to consider all the Kuwabara family as his personal curse from some wicked-humored god.

    “Oh my!” Kurama had finally opened the lid of the paperboard box. “Shizuru, this is beautiful, thank you!”

    “Damn, what is it?” Yusuke tried vainly to pry through the Youko’s red tresses that had fallen all around the box.

    With immense care Kurama delved his long fingers in the box, drawing from it a three-dimensional model in gypsum and colored glass, an orange-roofed house covered and surrounded by snow, with tiny bluish windows engraved in gray pebble walls, less than one foot-high. By a longitudinal cut they all could see the little building’s insides, where amazingly miniature glass figures of green-skinned red-dressed people, with microscopic yellow topaz eyes, worked on a cute funny factory, carrying multicolored packets, handling even smaller toys arranged in a long winding mat that crossed the
whole building. The exquisite colors and the perfect details in each figure gave Yusuke the strong impression that time have stopped only for a minute inside that Lilliputian world. Soon life would return and those little beings would return to their task of assorting those toys on the rolling mat, packing them in square boxes, wrapping them in cheerful papers, applying golden ribbons and filling large brown sacks.

    “Seems like Reikai,” muttered Kuwabara.

    Yusuke winced. Sure enough, the model reminded him a lot of Koenma’s crowded office, with dozens of oni fussing around with tremendous piles of papers. But Kurama just gave one of his warm chuckles.

    “I loved it, Shizuru. I had no idea Brazilian artisan work could be so perfect.”

    Shizuru put out her cigarette with a half smile. “Actually it was made in Taiwan.” She shrugged. “Only noticed the tag while I was packing it yesterday.”

    That brought soft laughter from everyone in the room, except for Shizuru, who still felt a little embarrassed by her slip, and Yukina and Hiei, who had no idea where this Taiwan place was. Kazuma was howling in mockery. “That’s my sister! Goes all the way to the other side of the world to buy something she could get right around the corner... UHNFF!”

    *Christmas spirit must be getting to Shizuru,* Yusuke mused. *She only hit one of Kuwabara’s eyes...*

    “Shizuru-san, what kind of youkai are these?” Yukina was staring at Kurama’s present in full contemplation, pointing to the little green people. *Sort of pointing,* Yusuke amended. Yukina was far too shy to really point to someone, even glass miniature statues.

    “They’re not youkai exactly,” Shizuru let go of her brother’s neck to address the Koorime. “Remember what I told you about Christmas’s traditions? Well, in some regions on Ningenkai the legends say Santa Claus employs goblins as helpers on his toy factory.”

    “Goblins?” Keiko marveled. “Shouldn’t be elves?”

    “Hn. Goblins don’t work for others,” Hiei retorted in his most ‘stupid ningen’ tone. “Besides, these ones are too cute to be goblins.”

    Kurama eyed him with a bantering grin. “You just said ‘cute’? No more sake to you, baby,” said the Youko, quickly removing the cup from his lover’s hand. Hiei just glared back.

    “These are supposed to be good goblins, Hiei,” Shizuru argued. When all the Reikai Tantei looked at her like she was a goblin herself, she raised her hands in submission. “Hey, that was what the vendor said. Anyway, for all *I* know, it wasn’t supposed to exist a married Youko, or a koorime/fire demon half-breed, or a human teen who died twice and turned into a demon in
the second time, or a... a... a... well, Kazu is a completely not-supposed-to-be himself.”

    “I drink to that,” Hiei toasted, grabbing his cup back from Kurama’s grip.

    “You really shouldn’t, baby,” admonished the redhead. “Now you’re developing a sense of humor. One more sip and you might start to dance.”

    “Want me to fill it for you, Hiei?” Yusuke asked, instantly offering the bottle.

    “Kazuma, I thought you said Santa Claus always wore red.” Yukina still couldn’t take her eyes of the model on the low table.

    “He does,” Kuwabara guaranteed. “Always. It’s his trackmade... ahn... trademark.”

    Yukina frowned at the tallest glass figure, right in the middle of the model. “I don’t see any kind of mark on him. And his shirt is white.”

    “Ahnn... no, I mean a ‘trademark’, it’s a... ah...” Kuwabara stuttered helplessly, leaning forward to get a clearer view of Santa in his...“White?”

    “An impostor!” cried Yusuke, jumping in the sofa. “Help! Call Koenma! Someone stole Santa Claus! Reikai Tantei in action!”

    Keiko hid her burning cheeks behind her hands. "I can’t believe it. I’m having a baby of another baby.”

    “Which of them kicks harder?” Shizuru chortled.

    Keiko winked at her. "I do.”

    “He’s not with his hat either,” Kurama commented, also inspecting the model.

    "And are those suspenders?”

    Everyone was now scowling at the tiny Santa. Well, almost everyone. Hiei chose to scowl at all those people prying into a fake little house and spying fake little people.

    "I see,” exclaimed Keiko. “The helpers are still preparing the presents, right? So Santa still has time to get ready. You don’t use hat and jacket at home, do you?”

    “But Keiko-san, he’s wearing boots,” Yukina pointed out. “We don’t wear shoes at home either.”

    Kuwabara cleared his throat, taking the Ice Maiden’s pale hand. “Well, no...

    Not in this country, Yuki-chan. You see, they’re not as civilized in the North Pole...”

    Hiei refilled his cup. This was getting better and better. Now all those people were discussing the fake little people’s habits...

    Shizuru shook her head. “Yukina, dear, next time I travel you’re going with me. There’s a lot around for you to see yet. Nicer and cleverer boys included.”

    “W-WHAT?” Kuwabara choked.

    "I think Keiko’s right,” Kurama put in. “See beside that brown door in the left? Those hooks in the wall?”

    “Yup, there they are,” Shizuru agreed. “Red hood with white fluffy ball, and red coat. So small, I haven’t noticed before.”

    “That means Santa uses white drawers.” Yusuke giggled. “Not red. What a surprise.”

    “Did you really expect Santa to use red drawers?” Keiko whacked her husband’s head.

    “Ouch! Wasn’t that logical?”

    Hiei turned his cup of sake at one gulp. Now all those people were nosing in the fake little people’s underwear...

    “Just because he wears a red outfit?” Keiko blurted out.

    “Sure,” Yusuke insisted. “Kurama wears pink briefs!”

    Hiei sighed. Now all those people were nosing in... uhn? “Hey, let my Fox’s briefs out of it!” he snapped, fangs menacingly appearing.

    “Thanks, Hiei,” Kurama moaned. “You got me out of a very embarrassing situation.”

    Hiei was far too drunk to get the sarcastic edge. “You’re welcome, Fox,” he answered, leaning his drowsy head against the Youko’s leg.

    “Oi, Urameshi,” Kuwabara had somehow managed to stammer among his convulsive
laughter. “How do you know about Kurama’s briefs?”

    Yusuke flushed immediately. So did Keiko. Fortunately, even drunk Hiei was still the fastest of them all. “Who’s talking... blaring moron, you showed up only in red boxers in front of all of us.”

    “Hah, I remember that,” Kurama sniggered. “Even Genkai and Botan got to see you then...”

    “Hentai!” Shizuru punched Kazuma’s head once more, and this time she kept punching. “Flashing Botan, and even Genkai-shihan! What were you thinking?”

    “Ow, cut it out, Neesan! It wasn’t my fault!”

    “Oh no? Who was it then, you pervert?”

     “Ite-te-te-te! Yanaguizawa! He stole my clothes! He sh’psh’ff’d... *ahem* shapeshifted into me! Ouch! Stop that!”

    But the girl was having too much fun spanking her younger brother now.

    “You see, Keiko?” Yusuke boasted. “Kuwabara uses red underwear.”

    “So what?” She fondled her own belly, trying to protect her unborn child of the insanity around her. “What does that got to do with anything?”

    “Ahnn...” At that point Yusuke had already completely forgotten how the underwear issue got into the conversation. He saw her gesture and caressed her hands over her bosom. “Our kid’s gonna have an amazing family, don’t you think?”

    Keiko closed her eyes tight, pressing her lips into a thin line, stifling a hearty smile. Amazing, undoubtedly. In lots of ways. Their child would grow severely spoiled by all those crazy, loving uncles and aunts. She wondered if she would be able to handle being the firm, practical, disciplining,
down-to-earth figure in that infant’s life.

    “I think a good cup of coffee would help me to deal better with our amazing family, Yusuke.”

    “Oh c’mon, Miss Wet Blanket. Can’t you relax a little? Even Hiei is having fun here!”

    “You can’t blame me for worrying a little about my baby’s future.”

    “A little?!” Yusuke gaped.

    She ignored him. “It’s not like we have anything close to a normal life here. Even Koenma-sama is worried...”

    Yusuke huffed. “Forget Koenma.”

    Kurama and Shizuru swiftly understood their conversation had moved to some argument the couple might had had before the party, and recoiled from interfering, focusing in emptying their glasses. Kuwabara, his brain soaked with sake and his mood rejoicing with his little wife’s attention, could not be as sensitive. “Koenma has been bothering you?” he asked.

    Yusuke fell back on the sofa, utterly annoyed. “Ch... you know him. He preached a lot about mixing human and demon blood, my ancestry, the perils of heedless actions, the safety of Ningenkai and stuff.”

    “Chikushou! Koenma’s such a busybody,” Hiei muttered, starting to trip over his tongue. “Get a life, you puffed-up snobbish pestering cub!”

    Yusuke got a bit surprised by Hiei’s ready standing by his side. Well, Hiei would always stand by his side, but usually he would do it with a sword in his hand and laconic complaints about “having to” do it. But Yusuke quickly remembered Kurama’s comment on how Koenma had lectured the Fire Demon, disapproving of his constant comings and goings through the borders between Makai and Ningenkai. That had clearly upset Hiei. He had a promising job in Mukuro’s realms, a beautiful spouse in Tokyo, and absolutely no intention of giving either of them up.

    “I don’t blame Koenma for that,” said Kurama.

    Before Yusuke could even think about feeling offended by the Youko’s comment, Hiei was already on his feet, looking down at his mate with a vexed scowl. “You WHAT? You think he’s right?”

    *Seems those two’ve been having their own private argument,* Shizuru mused.

    Kurama took his small hand and kissed its palm, hoping to calm him down. “He’s just worried, now that the barrier between the worlds is gone. Even if most youkai agreed to the laws of non-violence towards humans, no one said a word about other sorts of relationships.”

    “So what?” Hiei shrugged, his contempt bringing some clarity to his foggy mind. “Enki got me patrolling the boarders for a whole year. It’s useless. Youkai will keep coming, and ningen will keep tripping on portals by accident. And who knows if these laws won’t be revoked on one of the next
tournaments, if someone with some conquering goals wins.”

    Kurama sucked the chubby fingers of Hiei’s hand – a gesture he would never dare to make in public, were he in his usual lucid mind. “Ningenkai has been isolated from Makai for so long, itooshi. It’s somewhat scary to see them converging again. Who knows what might happen? Enma-daioh must be very preoccupied.”

    Hiei didn’t draw his hand back, even noticing the popped eyes and cold sweat on Kuwabara’s face – who still hadn’t given up on his conservatism – and that was solid proof of how far went his intoxication. “It will happen exactly what’s been happening for millennia. Enma never cared about
half-breeding,” the youkai insisted. “As long as only low-classed demons got through, they could procreate with as many humans as they wanted.”

    Keiko fidgeted in her husband’s embrace. “You mean Koenma wouldn’t be bothering us if Yusuke weren’t so powerful?”

    “You can’t be sure of that, Hiei,” Yusuke replied.

    “Sure I can. I worked for this guy once, a blockhead called Kurausu. One of the dumbest youkai I ever met. Worse than him,” Hiei stated, pointing an idle finger in the general direction of the sofa where Kuwabara was trying hard to stay awake. “He did exactly what you did. Married a ningen woman called Masha Kurissyn. Or Kurissyn Masha, I don’t remember.”

    “Doesn’t sound like Japanese,” Keiko noted.

    Hiei sat back on the floor, living his hand between Kurama’s. “I don’t know where he found her. But he had a daughter in Ningenkai. Came to visit her on her birthdays. She died centuries ago but he keeps coming to see his descendants, crossing the boarders every year, and no one cares, since he’s
weak and dumb.”

    “Why Hiei,” Shizuru grinned. “You, working for a dumb youkai? Don’t you have pride?”

    Yusuke winced, waiting for some flaming reaction, but the sake had taken control of the little demon’s mind. “At that time, not much.” Hiei’s voice was quiet, his gaze wondering by the ceiling, reminiscent and melancholic.

    “He paid well, food was okay. Didn’t have much to complain.”

    Suddenly all the others were leaning over, blinking away the blur from their eyes. It had happened before, in some other parties Kurama had managed to drag his lover to. The reserved, discreet, circumspect Jaganshi would loose hold of his veils of secrecy under the booze effect, and short tales of his past in Makai would surge in the open, blurted out in bare intelligibility, random fragments of some obscure dark book. It was irresistible, another rare chance of peeking at a new part of the puzzle their mysterious taciturn friend incarnated.

    “Besides,” Hiei continued, “‘twas one of the easiest tasks I’ve ever had. Just hunt some silly rodents, small predators and birds of prey. Some would bite... some spat poison.” He shrugged. “But I knew what to expect of them. Even when they attacked from behind.”

    *Unlike youkai and ningen, who betray you when you least expect,* Yusuke finished mentally. He had already glimpsed enough of the puzzle to discern some of the ugliest scars on that picture.

    “Kyodai! Why did you have to kill them?” Yukina’s soft voice was sad, but not quite reproachful. Her twin was no prince in shining armor, never had a chance to become anything resembling a model citizen, and she knew that painfully well.

    Still, Hiei recoiled visibly, lowing his eyes to avoid his sister’s stare. “Kurausu was... is, I think... a cook. Said to be good. Don’t know myself, I only tasted his stuffed mugutsu once.”

    “Mugutsu?” Keiko arched her eyebrows.

    “Something like a chinchilla,” Kurama clarified. “A little bigger, a lot more vicious, sharp teeth and claws.” He stroked the youkai’s nape, sinking his fingers in the soft black mane. “Didn’t know they were edible though.”

    “They’re not supposed to be,” Hiei answered, leaning his head against Kurama’s touch, looking a lot like a sleepy cat. “That’s Kurausu’s reputation: the one cook that makes everything edible. His mugutsu tasted very good, I admit, but fell too heavy on my stomach. Next day I felt like an anvil, couldn’t make three steps in a row without getting dizzy.”

    “You mean, just like all of you will be feeling tomorrow,” Keiko snickered.

    “I had to put up all these months with your nausea, bad mood and crazy wishes for the weirdest food ever,” Yusuke objected. “Now have fun with my hangover.”

    “I don’t get it,” Kuwabara rested his chin on a slack fist, thoughtfully. “Enma-daioh made such a fuss about Urameshi’s ans’tr’... *cough*... hun... ancestry. Was this cook of yours marked to death too?”

    Hiei snorted. “Enma wouldn’t have bothered. He was only low D-class when I left, and I doubt he can ever get stronger than that. He’s too dumb for it.”

    “But you said he comes to Ningenkai on a regular basis,” Kurama pointed.

    “Every year,” Hiei confirmed. “Saw him yesterday.”

    Shizuru lighted another cigarette. “He’s not so dumb if he’s skipping Reikai’s watch.”

    “He doesn’t even try to,” Hiei laughed. “Kurausu doesn’t even know the word ‘sneaking’. He only has the sense of changing his form so the humans won’t spot him, but he never learned to do it properly. Any ningen with a fraction of reiki can see him clearly. His human form’s too bulky and coarse to hide anyway.” His eyes turned into soft loving rubies as they fell over Kurama. “Not like yours, Fox.”

    “Human form?” Yusuke repeated. “What kind of youkai is he?”

    Hiei’s attention, however, had been completely dragged to flirt with the Youko. “Who cares?”

    Kurama’s face beamed in delight and he bowed down to kiss the Fire Demon’s cute little nose. “Baby, go on with your story.”

    Hiei grimaced, acceding to turn back to the others. “There’s not much to tell,” he shrugged. “I met him yesterday on the roofs in downtown. Hasn’t changed. Dressing one of his dark orange garbs and barking at the skies, praising his late wife as if she was some Beauty Deity. He makes a lot of noise. And he always chooses the noisier fureshuda to bring with him.”

    “Fureshuda?” Shizuru turned to the redhead beside her for help.

    “Ah... giant wasps,” Kurama translated. “Or winged sea horses, maybe. Something in between. With horns.” He noticed the blank looks around him and sighed. “They’re really a bizarre sight. Some thief gangs use them as riding beasts, but I never did. They smell.”

    “You can say that again...” Hiei groaned. “But Kurausu likes them somehow; the fat bastard can barely stand on his feet, so he moves around in this wrecked two-wheeled chariot, and he breeds them to pull it. He loves repulsive animals. Even Grudo; I used to think he was kind of cute, but then
Kurausu put it in my hand so I could have a closer look. Urrgh!”

    “Grudo?” All eyes fell over Kurama.

    The redhead blinked several times before turning to his partner. “Grudo?”

    “Hmm...?” The youkai was beginning to doze off. “Oh... his pet, Grudo. Some scarlet glow-worm, I don’t know. Keeps flying around Kurausu wherever he goes. He says ‘grudo’ means ‘guiding star’ in some ancient demonic language.

    I wouldn’t follow that bug around even if my life depended on it.”

    “That’s really nice,” Yukina exclaimed.

    The others looked at her as if she had a mugutsu’s head and a pair of fureshuda’s wings. “What’s nice, Yuki-chan?” asked Kuwabara.

    “This youkai married a ningen so long ago, but he’s still looking after his offspring as if they were his own children, even centuries after his wife’s depart. That’s a really caring, loving father, don’t you think, Kyodai?”

    Hiei shrank back, scowling at the floor. Like no other, Yukina had the gift of making him feel inadequate.

    But Yusuke was now very intrigued. “This guy is here in Ningenkai? Right now? Then why isn’t Koenma sending us after him? Damn, why has he never sent us after him?”

    “Too weak. Too dumb. Loss of time.” The Fire Demon was getting too somnolent, and noticeably losing interest on that subject.

    “But he’s probably got a thousand half-bred descendants by now!” Yusuke insisted.

    “I told you. Enma doesn’t care about low-classed demons getting laid with ningen.”

    “If he’s so weak, how can he still be alive?” Yusuke knew well how crude and harsh such a place like Makai could be even for sharp powerful youkai.

    “Because he’s harmless, and too shallow to attract enemies. Besides, no one would risk enraging Zaitaa.”

    “Zaitaa?” Kurama’s eyes widened, withdrawing his hand from Hiei’s hair. “Zaitaa, the slaughterer? The one who massacred all the Northwest tribes two centuries ago because of *one* youkai that stole his axe?”

    Hiei nodded.

    Keiko tightened her grip around her belly. “Sounds like a very agreeable creature...” she mumbled.

    “Zaitaa eats Kurausu’s food only,” Hiei shifted his head, searching the Youko’s caressing hands. “He said once that he considered the cook as one of his family. Hah! You know what? The jerk started to present himself around using ‘Zaitaa’ as his family name. Now no one would touch a hair of his.”

    “Oh great,” Yusuke muttered.

    Hiei hiccuped, seeming dead tired, but went on talking. “Under Zaitaa’s cover, he can be as noisy and outstanding as he wishes. He’s very fond of Ningenkai’s sugarcane ale. Really fond. First stop when he arrives is to buy a dozen boxes of it. Empties two bottles just for warming up, only then he
starts to look for Masha’s descendants. And he has a hard time holding his liquor.”

    Somehow they all managed to muzzle their laughing at the disdainful tone in the Fire Demon’s blurry flabby voice. The pot calling the kettle back. Yet clearly no one wanted to ruin the youkai’s storytelling mood. Yusuke let out an adoring smile, feeling terribly sentimental. Hiei was such a cute boozer.

“And he does... what *he* does... when he’s drunk.” Hiei’s stretched arm twitched, bumped into a sake bottle – which Kurama saved from falling with a gawky gesture, only to get his pants all plashed over – but at last succeeded in pointing to a void space very close to where Kuwabara was seated.

    “Kuwabara?” Yusuke considered his tall friend. *What does he do when he’s drunk?* “You mean boasting and bragging and swaggering?” But he did that when he was sober too...

    “Singing jingles of insecticides and deodorants?” Kurama suggested.

    “Dancing the charleston?” Keiko remembered.

    “Challenging phone-boxes to a headbanging contest?” offered Shizuru.

    “Dressing bed sheets, tying the obi of my kimono around his head and reciting poetry in the balcony to our neighbors?”

    Not many things could distract that group from Hiei’s rare anecdotes. However, now there were thirteen wide eyes – the Jagan was beaming under Hiei’s bandanna – completely focused on Yukina’s delicate figure, who took her small hands over her pinkish eloquent mouth. “Oops.”

    Kazuma kept bumping his index fingertips one against the other, his head resembling a giant ripe tomato with orange gel-slathered hair. “Yuki-chan... that was kind of pr’v’te... prr... private.”

    “That!” Hiei shouted. “Kurausu speaks like that too.”

    “Speaks like what?” Kuwabara still tried to save his self-respect.

    “Like someone who has two tongues in his mouth.” The youkai’s scowling deepened markedly. “And he has this maniacal laughter, as if he has an indigestion or something. He flies around in his chariot at night, screaming like a lunatic, *Ho ho ho, here goes Za’taa K’raus’! I’m back, my childr’n, ho ho ho! I marri’d K’rissy’ Mash’ and I’m back to see my childr’n. Go ‘Rudo, go! Ho ho ho ho ho!*” Hiei stopped his imitation to take a breath; the sake had wore him out. “Moron.”

    Yusuke looked down to his own feet, suddenly worried if they would still be there. In a short instant the world around him seemed to shiver, flicker, colors and proportions slightly changed. What did Hiei just said? The short demon hid his face on the light fabric of Kurama’s pants, dozing off, his
soft purr the only sound to be heard inside the whole temple.

    Yusuke turned his focus into his other friends. Kurama was biting his own thumb, his chest shaking by a barely repressed chortle, while he fondled the spiky black hair with indescribable tenderness. Kuwabara’s tomato head had quickly turned into a green watermelon, his small black eyes staring blankly at Hiei, the sake probably starting a revolution in his stomach. Yukina, of course, had completely missed it, and looked all around her with concerned ruby eyes.

    Shizuru finally shook her head and broke the silence. “I told Mama,” she sighed. “I knew I wasn’t dreaming. But she never believed me. Specially when I said I thought he was drunk.”

    “Jeez...” Kazuma murmured. “Marri’d K’rissy’ Mash’?”

    Yusuke felt the urgent pull at his hand and turned to his wife. She was glaring at him, at full force. “Yusuke,” Keiko breathed, her left arm fiercely embracing her belly. “There’s NO WAY you’re gonna tell this to our baby. You hear me?”

    “Hiei,” Kurama’s voice was amused but intrigued. “You said you worked for this... Kurausu... right?”

    “Um-hum...” Hiei nodded dreamingly.

    “And you came with him on his errands in Ningenkai?”

    “Only twice,” was the hoarse, slumberous answer. “Long ago.”

    Kurama couldn’t hold his chuckling anymore. He threw his head back in a bright crimson whirl of his soft hair, bringing his arm up to cover his eyes. “I knew it! I knew it!”

    This time Yusuke felt a little like Yukina. What did he know?

    The Youko reached down to his diminutive lover and took him in his arms, easily scooping him up to nestle the confused Fire Demon on his lap. “I knew it, baby. Just when I first saw your Majin aspect, I knew.”

    Hiei was stiff and tense as Kurama hugged him tight, rocking him playfully, his eyes glistened with happy tears. The Jaganshi seemed a lot more like his usual self now, pissed off by the mockery all too noticeable in the redhead’s convulsive laughter.

    “You’re one of Za’taa K’raus’s goblins, aren’t you?”

    Yusuke glanced at the Christmas model on the table, watching the little glass figures carved in the gypsum base... and *click*.

    Short. Green skin. Yellow eyes. Pointed ears. Masaka!

    “Keiko,” he moaned, “I think we could use that coffee now.”
 

~*~ OWARI ~*~

December 13th, 1999