*Numb* was how it first felt. He should have told his
body that it had
nothing to do with his thoughts even before he started
thinking. The
numbness was so familiar to the human physique that he
all but completely
ignored it ... which made it his fault entirely, even
though he had never
before experienced a nosebleed.
Blood rushed unbidden to his cheeks, and he
desperately hoped no one
noticed. Maybe no one did ... but how was he going to
make it stay that
way?
He had to stop the bleeding some time. It was making the
moment hell. When
he could stand the embarrassment no longer, he tilted his
head up, hoping
that would do the trick in less than a noticeable minute.
"Ooo, who is it?"
Damn. Damn, damn, "None of your business,"
Kurama growled softly, as he
clamped a hand to the entire lower half of his face.
"Gee, Shu-chan," Hayashibara whispered
dryly, "I hope it's not *me* or
anything..."
"Get off my case!" the star pupil of Meiou
high answered, very
uncharacteristically, and with a very unusual hoarseness,
that somehow
caught the attention of the entire class.
The frustrated biology professor let his arm down with
a sigh. He was sort
of hoping nothing would happen to disrupt the lesson.
Intense objectivity
and concentration is, after all, necessary for a smooth,
professional
discussion of human sexual reproduction. And he was in
front of so many
hormone-bombarded creatures. Everything had been going so
well...
But a surprise greeted him when he turned to see what
was going on. "Why,
what's wrong with Minamino?" he asked with genuine
concern.
That was when the last person he expected to cause
trouble in the middle of
a lecture fled the room, after a hurried "Excuse
me." Soft, uncertain
giggles hounded him, and lingered for a moment, even as
he raced farther and
farther away.
"Hayashibara," the teacher commanded.
"His nose is bleeding, sir," Shuichi
Minamino's seatmate answered
languidly.
A thick eyebrow rose. "Bleeding? Why?"
"Beats me, sir," Hayashibara replied. A good
fraction of the classroom's
male populace chuckled secretively in response.
"All of you," the professor sternly began,
to compel the entire class to
start listening again, "let's be a bit more mature.
There are many
possible causes for a nosebleed. Perhaps it's the
weather, or ... "
"Or the fact that we're talking about sex
straight out of the textbook,"
someone said, and the class burst into laughter.
"Too bad," a sarcastic young woman
supplemented. "I've always thought
Minamino-kun was *such* a *good* boy..."
The teacher sighed again, and pensively took down the
pin-up diagram of the
male reproductive organ from the center of the whiteboard
He caught attention, racing down the hall like that,
the most popular
streak of red in the general area...damn, *damn*, DAMN!
Luckily, the men' s
room wasn't locked. Or heavily populated. He could lock
himself in a
cubicle and let the world outside wash out with a heavy
stream of blood.
Let everyone else rot, with the decomposition process
paying special
attention to no one in particular...!
Whhyyyy did it have to happen in the middle of a
biology class? And why on
that day's lecture, specifically? Now people would put
the undeniably clear
two and two together and ruin his reputation for good.
No, he thought
optimistically: not for good. Time will pass, and after
several suave
retorts, the whole incident would be completely
forgotten. It would be
easy. But for the moment he could not even step out of
the cubicle that was
his refuge from the cruelty of the world.
He suddenly hated the Ningen Kai, hated his frail
human body, hated
everything he was caged into. If stuff like this went on,
maybe he would
get around to hating Shiori, too. Gods, he hoped not: it
was indecent for
any human to hate the world that much. And he was human.
The nosebleed
proved it.
He laughed despite himself. It was a silly situation.
He should get used
to such things while human and alive. When the bleeding
finally abated, he
stepped out, grateful to find that he was alone at last.
He went directly
to the sink to wash his face and hands.
Just as he was about to look up at the mirror, to
check if his face no
longer looked as fevered as it felt, he felt cold black
youki warp into a
stable form behind him. It wasn't his own face he looked
at first in the
mirror ... it was Hiei's.
"Your youki rose as if you were in danger,"
was the fair-faced creature's
greeting and explanation. "What happened?"
Instead of smiling with the sweetness that Hiei should
find familiar by
that time, as instinct dictated, Kurama became very, very
still. Hiei
frowned in subtle alarm. "You mean," Kurama
said softly, "you were near
enough to notice that?"
"Of course I was," Hiei growled, in his
infallibly endearing
"I'm-keeping-my-expletives-to-myself-because-you're-somebody-I-respect"
tone.
Kurama added mysteriously, "That's why..."
" 'That's why' *what*?" Hiei demanded.
*That* was only when Kurama was able to smile. To a
certain degree, he
liked watching Hiei suffer. It was cute. "Never
mind," he said
affectionately. "Never mind, Hiei." He reached
for a paper towel and
proceeded to wipe his dripping face and hands.
"You haven't answered my question," Hiei
insisted.
Kurama made him wait. He flawlessly threw the spent
towel into a trashcan
at the other end of the room, and then sniffed
delicately. "I had a
nosebleed," he was able to report cheerfully after
that.
Hiei looked mildly surprised. Then offended. Then
disgusted. All in a
fraction of a second. That was something else lovable
about him, Kurama
mused, suppressing a smile that would have inconveniently
betrayed him.
"A nosebleed?!"
The poor, naive little thing...
"Hiei, in the Ningen Kai, a nosebleed is said to
mark certain things about
a person, certain...emotions. Excitement. Don't make me
elaborate," he
said aloud.
"So you had a nosebleed," Hiei grumbled.
"Did that cause certain humans to
threaten your life for a while?"
Kurama chuckled brightly. "Nah," he replied,
"but that *did* cause certain
humans to think strangely of my reputation..."
"Your 'reputation'?" Kurama had explained to
Hiei, dozens of times, that
the Ningen Kai is not the Makai ... that it is almost
everything the Makai is,
turned upside-down. One does not gain a
"reputation" in the Human World by
being offensive and making everyone else's life
miserable. Hiei should have
understood that by then; Kurama was relieved to see that
he did, if vaguely.
"Vaguely" had to do. "Which 'certain
humans' are we talking about?"
Hiei
asked, in a slightly kill-hungy manner.
"Spare your jagan," Kurama warned soberly.
"They'll forget, in due time.
This is such a small matter, Hiei, I can take care of
it." He smiled, and
Hiei's barely noticeable fidget at that smile delighted
him. "It's just a
nosebleed," he said, as he headed for the door.
Knowing that nothing more was needed of him, Hiei
stood stock-still and
watched Kurama leave. Kurama took comfort in his choosing
to stay for that
little while, despite the danger, and despite the
precious time wasted. Out
of sheer gratitude he turned for a farewell glance at his
youkai friend.
And out of something else altogether he smiled wryly into
the surprised
scarlet eyes.
"Hiei," he said sweetly, "have I ever
told you that black suits you very
well?"
Hiei scowled genuinely at this. "Yes, you
have," he answered. "Lots of
times."
"Just wanted to make sure," Kurama trilled,
as he closed the door behind
him.
Someone passed Kurama on his way out of the men's
room. He had his hand
on the knob just when Kurama's hand left it. He was in a
hurry ... but however
he hurried, Kurama thought fondly, he would never catch a
glimpse of Hiei.
He would not even be granted the black flicker that could
appear at the
corner of the most observant, normal human eye.
Hiei knew well enough to stay away when told to.
As he made his way back to class, several schoolmates,
all friends (as he
made it a point to keep no enemies), greeted him with
sly, knowing smiles,
and several snide remarks, like "So who's she,
Minamino-kun?" or "How was
your Valentine's?". He smiled back at them all,
retaining the enigma that
would creep them out of any illusion sooner or later.
News of the unnatural occurrence did spread fast. Not
that it bothered him
anymore. When he returned to the room, and was
immediately bombarded by
whispered taunts and friendly barracks, he could be as
calm as he felt. For
the moment, no one could know, and nothing could make him
tell, the truth.
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