What I steal...I keep

A warped door provided a poor substitute to muffle the noise of the other tenants.

Inside the room, it was almost as bad as the rubble strewn hallways that connected the various corridors that housed cheap rooms.

Emphasis was on cheap.

Bleary eyes were trained on the opposite wall, as far from the sight of the short branch from a pine tree had been stuck in a can.

He had found it on the way home and impulsively picked it up. It had been decorated as a joke. Eying the desperate looking plant and he had somberly concluded that if it was a joke then the joke was on him.

Decorated sparsely with bits of aluminum foil and other stuff he had found, it looked out of place. It was a sad attempt at joy that poignantly made his rented room look even more pathetic.

The neon light from the bar across the street blinked erratically, bathing the room in a garish red glow. Even from the distance, its harsh discordant buzzing could be heard.

A single present, wrapped in newspaper, emphasize the desperate and sadness of both the room and its occupant.

He had made an attempt to make the room festive for the occasion. A rope of brightly colored beads draped the wall as well as the sole lamp. A tired banner exhorting cheer and glad tidings hung from the door.

The decorations only emphasize the barrenness of the room.

A single bed, a beaten, scarred dresser and chair—that had seen better days—were the room’s only furnishing.

The single room apartment had come furnished.

That and the cheap rent was what had sold it to a struggling Yusuke. Seven months he had been working and living on his own. Struggling to be the man he needed to be for Keiko.

He was thankfully that with winter, many of the odors from the other apartments had been held at bay.

Still, he had to endure. He winced silently. The crying baby next door, the loud argumentative neighbors across the hall easily penetrated walls.

The wind howled mournfully outside, rising in pitch as it sought entrance to his room. A light skittering sound—a spray of snow blown against the window—danced battered fruitlessly against the cold frosted glass.

Intangible icy fingers probed at the window and cracks in the walls. The wind seemed to shrill victoriously when it found a way in. Streamers of cold swirled eagerly through the room. A thin line of snow determinedly burrowed through the narrow opening, resting triumphantly on the inside seam of the window.

The tired radiator in the corner knocked and banged rheumatically but with little heat.

Clutching a can of beer in his hand, Yusuke drew his knees to his chest. He was cold…and lonely.

Mockingly he raised his can, saluting the banner before taking a drink. He had decided that this Christmas year would be best enjoyed by being totally drunk. It would be his present to himself.

He was searching for the promise of oblivion that usually could be found at the bottom of a can of beer.

Clad in socks, jeans and threadbare T-shirt, he appeared impervious to the icy chill that flowed through the air. The several empty cans of beer may have had something to do with that.

Though every now and then a shiver would rack his lean frame as if to belied his seemingly immunity to the cold.

Yusuke avoided looking at the tree and the present beneath it. Lips twisted in a self-mocking sneer, he drank deep.

He was still kicking himself for actually buying such a cheap ass gift. Keiko deserved better than some stupid picture frame.

He had seen the frame in a second-hand shop. Covered by dust and grime, something about the frame had struck a chord in him. Seized by a whimsical impulse, he had impulsively purchased it.

Rushing back to his apartment he had cleaned it. And cleaned up, it looked pretty decent. Something he was sure would appeal to Keiko’s girly side. Then he decided to go for broke and rooted through his small box of treasures.

He had found a rare photo of him and Keiko when they were just a couple of squirts. He had a vague memory of his mother taking the picture of them at the beach. Captured in the picture, it was a timeless moment of joy.

It had been before his mother had completely turned to the bottle. It was a time when she had the energy and inclination to laugh and play with her only son.

It was a time when he believed in the infallibility of his mother.

Quickly he had shaken off the introspective mood.

Scraping together the last of his money, he had taken the picture to a photo-mart, he had it enlarged then put in the frame he had purchased.

Now he wondered what ever possessed him to give her such a stupid, lame-ass gift.

Besides, it wasn’t like she would even accept it. She had made it plain that he wasn’t what she was looking for. For one thing, he could never be refined enough for her.

She was going places, he thought with bitter self-mockery.

Important places where he just didn’t fit the image.

He dismally summed up his life. No girl, no friends to make the holidays easier.

Even hanging out with Kuwabara and his folks would have been better than nothing. But when he had been asked if he wanted to come with he had been too embarrassed by his lonely state to agree and had declined. Just because his family totally sucked didn’t mean he had to horn in on Kuwabara’s family time.

He suspected Kuwabara understood, what being Mr. Psychic.

Yusuke frowned and quickly added, ‘though Kuwabara was still an idiot’.

There, he felt a little better.

Yeah, the Kuwabaras were off and would enjoy their Christmas at some swanky vacation spot.

And the Yukimuras would be celebrating their Christmas. It would be the first Christmas without him.

His brief moment of happiness ebbed away.

He had forgotten the fact that Keiko could be a stubborn little bitch when she wanted. Hell, that girl would go a mile out of her way just to prove a point. At the time of the breakup, he had counted on the fact that Keiko’s commonsense would kick in. She would reconsider and he would make her grovel a little bit before graciously deciding to get back together.

It was, like, an idiot proof plan.

For that matter, he still didn’t know why she decided they needed, as she called some ‘apart time’. Like, what the fuck was that? Some kinda goddamn, emo psycho babble shit that translated into exactly what? It was a question that he was still trying to figure out, nearly six months later.

It was no use asking her because according to her, if he didn’t know then it was a good indication that they should stay ‘apart’.

The spurt of anger quickly faded, chilled by the simple fact that he was still alone.

He would be alone until she came to her senses.

A sigh stirred the lingering chill. Briefly a wish for the calm and ever practical Kurama floated through his head. If Kurama was here, Yusuke knew his red-head friend would help figure out what the hell was wrong with Keiko.

He had no doubt that the problem was with her.

But Kurama had transferred to a college in America five months ago and hadn’t been back since. Talking to him on the phone just wasn’t cutting it.

Yusuke sighed heavily. He scrubbed a hand roughly over his face. “Fucking dumbass.” Who he was talking about, even he had no idea.

Now more than slightly buzzed, he abruptly decided he would go out. His mother was having a party, and as bad as they usually turned out to be, it would beat being alone.

Grabbing his jacket and shoving his feet into sneakers, he quickly exited and locked the room. Not that there was anything worth stealing in there, he thought in grim amusement.

Outside, he zipped his jacket up and began the trek to his mother’s place. Jobless, he knew he would need to conserve his money until he found a new job. He had at least thirty days or he would also have to find a new place to stay.

Rent had to be paid promptly on the twenty-fifth of the month. No delays or excuses were accepted or tolerated.

Head down against the punishing wind that slid under his jacket, he unconsciously presented a lonely figure in the snow. He trudged determinedly into the night, slowly fading into the darkness.

Forty-five minutes later, a dark blue car pulled up to Yusuke’s apartment. The car door opened and a figure made bulky by a heavy winter coat, exited the car. The driver vanished into Yusuke’s building. When the driver of the car returned, it was with a small duffle bag that was placed neatly in the backseat. Then the driver climbed back into the car and pulled away.

Yusuke’s head throbbed mercilessly, pounding to the beat of the loud music. Gripping a glass of sake, the skin around his eyes was tight, betraying his discomfort.

Boredom had set in a long time ago and he had been having a time keeping his mom’s asshole friends from bugging the shit out of him. He had thought wistfully of Hiei and how no one bothered the fire demon when Hiei did not want them to. In a flash of insight, he decided if Hiei wasn’t here the he would be Hiei.

Thinking of Hiei brought to mind the deadly aurora of impending violence the other demon exuded so easily. Keiko had once said, with a shudder that Hiei could with a single bored look, to imply that he knew over a million ways to kill a person. And if you were still in his general vicinity then he would demonstrate such esoteric skill on you.

Hiei was firmly in favor of mindless rage and violence. He especially favored it when it happened to who ever he happen to be fighting. He had espoused on this theory for an inordinate amount of time.

Then had fallen off his chair as the liquor they had been drinking finally caught up with him.

The others had laughed themselves sick…literally. Kuwabara had been unjustifiable proud that he was kicked out of a bar. His rivalry with Urameshi had become one of friendly competition. Any way he could one-up Urameshi was a win in his book. Yusuke hadn’t had the heart to inform the red-head that there were half-a-dozen bars in both the Makai and Ningenkai that he was no longer allowed in.

Yusuke smiled into his cup, amused by the memory. He also was a little chagrin that he hadn’t thought of the idea an hour ago. He had had his butt pinched so many times he grimly sure there would be bruises.

And it wasn’t just women that were doing the pinching, he thought darkly.
Still, he was thankful that people were avoiding the corner he had staked out as his territory.

He ignored the fact that it was his idea to be among a bunch of people he mockingly called losers.

He winced at the sound of glass shattering and the shrill, drunken laughter that followed. The sound plucked viciously at his nerves.

It was only a matter of time before the party ended like all his mother’s parties usually ended. With the police, he thought darkly

His face was bleak, a flatness at odds with the revelry going on around him. An expression that spoke volumes on his insistence that everyone stay the fuck away from him. What made it so bad was it wasn’t anger directed at a specific person. They could have simply pushed that person forward and let nature take its course.

No, this anger was worse because it was so completely nonspecific. Which they felt was totally unfair. Anyone could be the target.

Some of the deadliest men in the city—men who had committed dozens acts of atrocity and managed to sleep soundly afterward—collectively decided that that particular corner simply did not exist.

Yusuke ruled his territory with a sullen, iron fist. He was loath to end his self-imposed exile.

Studying his drink, Yusuke mentally withdrew from the noisy confusion. He never ‘blanked’ out as it was too dangerous to do that around these people. He just gave himself some mental space from the noise and confusion. It was a trick he had utilized when he lived at home with his mother and had to endure her famous ‘parties’.

He was perfectly in tuned with his surroundings, yet it was distant enough that it didn’t intrude on his mental state. It was state he could return quickly at the least sign of trouble.

The doorbell ringing was lost in the cacophony of music and shouting.

It was with some surprise that someone braved his temper and touched his arm. All without his internal alarms going off.

Blinking, his body tensing in preparation of defending himself he was thrown for a loop at the sight of a familiar face.

“Kurama…?”

A tiny smile curved delicate pink lips. “You’re slipping, little kit.” Kurama’s voice mirrored the amused affection in his eyes.

That stupid, absurd nickname, the one that Kurama had taken to calling him after their final trip into the Makai, fell soothingly on his ears. Inside, he felt something strange. A feeling as if something slowly unfurled from a tight, self-protected knot and stretched throughout his body.

“You…you…you...fucker.” Overcome with emotion and that strange feeling, Yusuke punched Kurama in the shoulder before pulling the willowy slim figure into a rough hug. Breath escaping in a surprised whoosh, a gasping Kurama endured Yusuke’s greeting before he was pushed away.

Holding onto the deceptively narrow shoulders, quick brown eyes scanned the red-head critically, silently checking to make sure his friend was still in the same condition as when he left. Kurama mutely withstood the examination, well acquainted with Yusuke’s over-protective streak.

“I thought you were in that fucking lah-de-dah school in America.” Though sour, the light in Yusuke’s eyes reflected a different story. Sad as he was to see his buddy travel so far away, still he was pleased to know that even the Americans recognized just how fucking smart Kurama was. He had once confided to Kuwabara that the entire American school system probably got an extra boost just by Kurama being in the county there. There had been a lot more profanity in his little speech. After all, he was pretty drunk.

Kurama’s eyes widened. It made him look shockingly young and innocent.

It also made Yusuke’s bullshit meter chime.

“I know this might be shocking, but did you know that American schools allow their students’ time off?” Looking shocked and indignant, the crimson head shook dolefully at the concept. “I tried to argue with them, but they said I had to take Winter Break along with the rest of the school.”

Yusuke eyed the guileless, hapless look Kurama wore. The mischievous glint in the emerald eyes gave Kurama away. Yusuke threw back his head and laughed uproariously. The honest emotion in the sound drew curious, wondering eyes. It touched emotions, long since traded in for survival. Wistfully several people found themselves smiling.

“Damn, but I missed you.” Choked, Yusuke hugged Kurama again. Gratefully he breathed in the clean, spicy scent he always associated with Kurama. The familiarity of touching, of being so close eased an aching he hadn’t known he possessed. For this brief moment in time, he could pretend. Pretend that everything was all right in his world. That the months and weeks of loneliness were just a bad dream.

Kurama smiled into Yusuke’s shoulder. Fiercely protective of his personal space, an icy glance was usually enough to have most people scrambling to increase the distance between them. If that didn’t do the trick then he had other, more vicious methods at his disposal.

Only to those he trusted, that bore the delegation of ‘friend’ did he allowed such closeness. It was testament to their deeply rooted bond that his arms were just as tight in the encompassing embrace.

“So, you’re ready to go?” he asked casually as their arms drops. He lifted one arm and laid it across Yusuke’s shoulder. His arm tightened slightly, turning them towards the door. “Mother has decided that you will join us at our winter vacation home.” Glancing over his shoulder, eyes colder than deep space wiped the leer off one particular hard-face tough whose hand was resting inappropriately on his anatomy.

Kurama did not seem to move, but suddenly the man was on his knees, his face screwed up in pain. One hand was clutched protectively to his chest. A sharp object protruded from the man’s hand. Where it had been jabbed into flesh, the surrounding area was turning purple and was rapidly swelling.

The poison in the barb spread rapidly. In a matter of seconds, agony crawled sickeningly up the man’s arm. Eyes watering, he fought not to scream as it seemed as if hot pokers were laid on his arm. Teeth clenched, hissing in pain he dropped to his knees. He clutched midpoint of his forearm, futilely trying to stop the spread of agony that crawled through his veins. His hand, wrist and much of his forearm was swollen to grotesque levels.

This time the man saw Kurama move. He instinctively flinched back. Still he didn’t have time as Kurama stuck another barbed seedling into the swollen flesh. The pain excruciating he passed out.

The matter dealt with, Kurama ignored the body on the floor. He spoke quickly to forestall Yusuke’s instinctive response. “Mother says that if I don’t bring you, she would come herself to fetch you. Somehow don’t think she’ll be as nice as I’m being.” He looked rueful as he spoke the last. It wasn’t quite a lie.

Eyes widening in mock fear, Yusuke said, “Dude, your mom’s scary.” He gave a mock shudder. Then he looked away, pretended interest in the activities in the corner.

Someone was sure as hell gonna get totally fucked up, he thought, eying the beautiful blond woman on her knees enthusiastically giving a blowjob to an equally blond guy.

The fact that her dark-haired boyfriend just stepped through the door probably was the reason why the blond guy looked like he was about to shit in his pant, Yusuke decided.

Kurama eyed his friend, giving Yusuke time. Not a lot, just enough to allow the suggestion of the idea to grow roots. Roots were good. And as long as Yusuke made the right decision, aka spending the holidays with him, he could afford to be tolerant.

“I don’t know if I should mention this…” he said slowly, feigning reluctance. It was enough to get Yusuke’s attention. Kurama bit his lip with a fine show of trepidation.

“What?”

With the air of one being forced to speak, Kurama said, “You know how we’ve been asking you for years to stay with us during Christmas? And you’ve always said no? Well, we still have all your presents.”

“Presents?” Yusuke blinked, looking dumbfound. His inner child started hopping up and down, clapping his hands with glee. Presents! Presents!

“Lots…” Kurama added helpfully.

It wasn’t that Yusuke was greedy. Or shallow. He always got a couple of presents from everyone.

But he spent his Christmas’ with the Yukimuras. And every year, they chipped in to buy him a present.

One present from three fucking people. The hell? They acted like if each of them bought him a present, it would cause the collapse of the economy or some shit like that. It just made him feel like an outside when for the rest of the night, he had to sit and watch them open present after present. All to the accompaniment of laughter and happy shrieks. He always felt like an idiot sitting there watching them.

Just once, he wanted to be someplace where he got to open lots of presents. To know that someone, with the emphasis on ‘one’, thought enough of him to buy or make something to give to him.

Yusuke paused. Of course, there may be a different definition of shallow that I haven’t come across, he allowed.

His mother’s sudden arrival drove all thoughts from his head. He flushed a dull red at sight of her glazed eyes.

She was drunk as usual.

Rigid, his mouth tight with suppressed anger, he glared.

“Baby…” Atsuko staggered to a halt in front of her son. She peered at him with bleary eyes, not seeing the slender red-head beside him. A worried frown darkening her face, she leaned closer to Yusuke. “Baby…you…hav…you havin’ fun?” Alcohol fumes spewed from her mouth as she spoke.

Yusuke’s face darkened even further.

Kurama, his face expressionless, darted a quick look at a fuming, embarrassed Yusuke. “Ms. Urameshi, this is quite a party you’re having,” he said just loud enough for the woman to hear. His face was inscrutable as he continued. “However, my mother charged me with bringing Yusuke to spend the holidays with us.”

Startled Atsuko jerked back. Only Kurama’s infamous reflexes prevented her from falling. His eyes were blank as he watched the clearly inebriated woman.

Senses clouded by drink, Atsuko didn’t notice. Struggling to focus, she blinked rapidly. Vaguely she recognized the tall, slim form as one of her son’s friends.

“Good…” she breathed, her face clearing. She beamed cheerfully at two before mercurial, her mood changed. Her mouth turning down, she looked woebegone. “I…I don’t think he’s having much fun here. He needs to have fun, get out more.” She leaned confidingly towards Kurama.

“That stupid-ass Keiko dumped him…” She shook her head, fixing Kurama with an incredulous expression. “My poor baby…dumped.” A wise look on her face, she circled a finger at her temple in an unmistakable gesture. “She’s crazy.” She sniggered softly to herself.

Kurama’s mouth twitched in a reluctant grin. He looked at Yusuke’s angry expression and decided to extricate them before his friend blew. “My thoughts exactly,” he replied with smoothly. Grabbing Yusuke by the arm, he tugged. “As enlightening as this has been, we have a long drive ahead of us.”

Atsuko smiled. Briefly, the alcohol cleared and she looked soberly at the red-head. “Take care of him.”

Red-rimmed brown eyes gazed into crystal clear green eyes. Losing all traces of amusement, Kurama gazed back at her. Something passed between them. “Do not worry…I will always take care of him.” Yusuke looked between the two, a frown pulling at his brows.

“Hello, still here,” he said indignantly. With a jerk of his hand, he pointed his thumb at his chest. “And I don’t need no-damn-body taking care of me. Been taking care of my own damn self for years.”

Kurama’s tug interrupted the beginning of a tirade. “Let’s go.”

Once outside, and heading for the car, Yusuke glanced up at the cool countenance of his friend. The winter moon gilded the kitsune face. The silvery light deepened the red hair to the color of blood. It created interesting shadows of Kurama’s face. Making him at once a familiar friend then with a shift in light, now a tantalizing stranger.

Yusuke felt a strange sizzling sensation. Frowning, he sought to identify the sensation. It was curious blend of excitement and anticipation. Though what he had to be excited about, other than Kurama would be around for a couple of weeks, he didn’t know.

“Well, since I’m being kidnapped, I supposed we should swing by my place for some clothes,” Yusuke said happily.

Sternly Kurama controlled the impulse to roll his eyes. He waited until they were in the car before speaking. “You do realize since you’re voluntarily accompanying me it’s not really kidnapping?” His voice held the carefully polite note of one dealing with the insane.

Giving his friend an indignant look, Yusuke exclaimed, “Dude! Work with me here.” He added chattily, “Anyway, I always wanted to be kidnapped.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully, a musing look in his eyes. “I always wondered what I would do if it ever happened.”

“Of for God’s sake…” Kurama muttered as he pulled away from the curb. Yusuke saw the fleeting smile that Kurama fought. He grinned impishly and settled back with a gusty sigh.

“Anyway, we gotta hit my place so I can grab some clothes,” he said briskly. The silence from his companion had him directing a questioning look at the other. There was something about the way Kurama studiously watched the road that made his senses twinge.

“Please tell me you didn’t break into my place,” he said resignedly, closing his eyes. Not that he was ashamed of his place. It was just…he would rather Kurama not known how he was living.

“I did not break into your place,” Kurama repeated obediently. Yusuke’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. Kurama couldn’t lie worth shit, he decided.

“You’re such a fucking liar.” Huffily he flounced in his seat, putting physical distance between him and Kurama.

He fumed silently. He had no right, he thought resentfully of the silent figure beside him. He ain’t had no fucking right to go messing with my shit. Rather than spew the words trembling on his tongue, he rested his head on the window. Spitefully he allowed the heavy cocoon of silence to grow.

The hushed sound of snow sliding under the car filled the air. Though angry, Yusuke found his anger seeping away under the hypnotic sound. There was little traffic on the road as they sped through the night. Eyelids growing heavy, Yusuke willingly surrendered to sleep.

Kurama glanced over at Yusuke. Returning his attention back to the road, a tiny smile hinted at the corners of his mouth.

Yusuke was asleep.

They had been on the road for a little over hour. The hypnotic swish of snow against the car, the wipers moving back and forth must had had a somatic effect on his friend.

Reaching a long arm into the backseat, Kurama tugged the blanket over the seat. Without taking his attention from the road, he one-handedly spread the blanket over Yusuke. The restless stirring from his passenger was eased by his hand stroking comforting over dark, silken hair.

It wasn’t until he felt soft, insistent pressure against his hand that he realized his hand was still resting on Yusuke’s head—and had been for several minutes.

Face going blank, Kurama withdrew his hand to the safety of his thigh. At the sleepy, disappointed murmur from Yusuke, his face tightened. His hands clenched on the steering wheel.

The passing light of a car flashed momentarily in the car. A subtle blending of shadow and light, Kurama’s face revealed his true personality. It held a ruthlessness that would have shocked his human family.