Through His Eyes

Standard Disclaimer: You know the drill... YYH and its characters are the sole property of Yoshihiro Togashi, Shonen Jump Comics Weekly, Studio Pierrot, and Fuji Television. I own nothing, except a deep love of them and the Hiei/Kurama pairing.

Author's Note: I am truly sorry for taking so long to update. However, as most of you know, I have been distracted recently with planning my daughter's wedding. And once the wedding was done, my muse took a powder and I've been plagued ever since with a MAJOR case of writer's block. Thanks for bearing with me and enjoy!


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The door swung inward again, but this time Hiei remained seated, arms crossed over his chest and lips drawn downward into his customary scowl. Though his whole being radiated bored indifference, his mind raged with renewed anger as Yomi stepped through the door, their new keyboardist by his side.

The little guitarist took a moment to observe (surreptitiously, of course) the man and felt his breath catch and his mouth suddenly go dry. He didn’t think he’d ever seen anything or anyone so beautiful. And Kurama was that – had always been – there was no denying it. Hiei had seen posters of Rose Whip, the smiling redhead always in the center of the trio. He remembered watching their music videos. Hell, he even owned one or two of their CDs, that beautiful face gracing the sleeve. Yet he found that, now, confronted with the physical embodiment of the one known as Kurama, none of those things – not the CD sleeves, not the posters, nor the videos – did justice to the man’s beauty. He couldn’t (no matter that he tried) take his eyes off of the lithe figure now standing just inside the door, one slender arm tucked into the crook of Yomi’s own, the long-fingered hand resting atop it.

Hiei let his eyes roam upwards from the slender, dancer-like physique to the pale face with its elfin features, eyes hidden beneath dark glasses, and finally, to the long scarlet hair in its ponytail. As he stared, fascinated by this living, breathing god before him, Hiei found he could not stop his traitorous thoughts – thoughts of what it would be like to touch that porcelain flesh; to press his lips against those sensual pink lips; to loose that luxurious red mane from its confines and run his fingers through it. Of their own volition, those same fingers twitched, and savagely, Hiei dug them into the soft flesh of his upper arms, thankful that everyone’s attention was so focused on the newcomers they hadn’t noticed his brief lapse in sanity.

It was Yusuke’s voice that grounded him to reality once more. He looked up, his indifferent mask firmly in place as the vocalist moved toward Yomi and Kurama, hand thrust out to greet their new band mate. “Hey!” that loud voice exclaimed. “Nice ta’ meetcha’. Yusuke Urameshi – vocals and leader of this motley crew.”

Their dark-haired singer stood there, his grin faltering, arm and hand dropping awkwardly back to his side as Kurama made no move to take the proffered hand. Hiei snorted. Obviously the idiot had no idea that the man he’d just tried to shake hands with was blind.

Koenma came to his lover’s rescue as he moved to stand beside Yusuke. Wrapping his arm comfortingly around the boy’s waist, he leaned in slightly and whispered something in Yusuke’s ear, causing the boy to flush a deep crimson. He then turned his attention back to the two men at the door. “I’m Koenma,” he said, “Koenma Daioh. Bass guitar and background vocals.”

Kurama slipped his arm from Yomi’s and bowed, unaware of the momentary awkwardness. A gentle smile graced his full lips. “Shuuichi Minamino. But please, call me Kurama. It is a pleasure to meet you both.”

“Hey! Don’t forget about me!” Their drummer’s obnoxiously loud bray resounded throughout the room, sending a jolt through the little guitarist, and Hiei glared at the larger man. “Name’s Kuwabara! Kazuma Kuwabara, but you can just call me Kuwabara,” the carrot-haired drummer continued as he bounded forward. “I’m the drummer!”

Kurama bowed again, his ears having told him that Kuwabara had come up to stand next to, and slightly behind, Yusuke and Koenma. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Kuwabara.” Another gentle smile followed his response to Kuwabara’s enthusiastic introduction.

Yomi reached out then, gaining Kurama’s attention with a soft touch to the keyboardist’s arm. Kurama turned slightly at the contact. “And of course,” the producer said, “you’ve already met Mukuro.”

“A pleasure to see you again, Kurama,” said the manager of Dragon’s Flame as she came forward to join the group. Though she knew neither Hiei nor Kurama could see it, Mukuro smirked as she turned to face the small guitarist still seated on the sofa. “And last, but certainly not least, our lead guitarist and co-founder of Dragon’s Flame…..”

“Well isn’t this just wonder-fucking-ful?!” Hiei drawled as he rose from the sofa, each word heavy with sarcastic contempt. “Not ONLY do we get saddled with a keyboardist that we neither want nor desire, but he turns out to be a fucking BLIND has-been at that!”

“Better a ‘fucking blind has-been’ than a fucking never-was.” Came the pleasantly conversational response from the blind keyboardist himself as Kurama inclined his head slightly toward that angry voice. “And you are?” he inquired.

“Fuck you!” spat the little guitarist.

A small smile graced Kurama’s full lips, and Hiei could not stop the tightening in his nether regions at seeing that smile directed at him. With an effort, he managed to rein in his body’s betrayal and focus his attention on the redhead who was speaking again.

“While I do appreciate the offer…” Kurama let out a small sigh. “Sadly, since I don’t even know your name, I fear I must decline.”

Another smile, this one somewhat wistful, accompanied his words. Stunned, Hiei opened his mouth, fully prepared with some scathing retort; however, no words followed. That is, not until he heard Yusuke snicker, and his anger flared once more, effectively loosening his tongue.

“Jaganshi, you arrogant bastard,” he spat. “Hiei Jaganshi.”

Kurama gave a small bow. “A pleasure, Mr. Jaganshi. And I can assure you, my parents were married prior to my conception and birth.”

Hiei had no opportunity for a comeback as Yomi chose that moment to clear his throat with a soft ‘ahem’. “Now that the introductions are done, and the question of Kurama’s birth has been settled, may I suggest we get on with the reason we are all here?” he asked.

“I think that’s an excel…” Mukuro began, only to be interrupted by the near manic query that suddenly erupted from the band’s energetic lead singer…..

“Hey Kurama, man,” Yusuke all but shouted, “why dontcha’ play somethin’ for us?”

Yusuke’s energy and enthusiasm was nothing if not infectious and Kurama found himself smiling. “It would be my pleasure, Mr. Urameshi. That is, if no one has any objections.”

Yusuke grinned. “Nah, no one’s got any, right guys? And it’s Yusuke… just Yusuke.”

“I certainly have none,” Koenma agreed. “I should very much like to hear…..”

“Me, too!” Kuwabara chimed in as well, cutting Koenma off. “C’mon, Kurama, show us whatcha’ got!”

“Hn,” was Hiei’s only response. If the little guitarist did have an objection to hearing Kurama play, he chose to keep it to himself and merely followed the others as they left the lounge and headed to one of the recording rooms.


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With Yomi’s guidance, Kurama eased himself behind the U-shaped collection of keyboards and synthesizer and settled into the tiny seat in the middle of the array as the rest of the group positioned themselves behind the clear glass that separated the recording studio from the sound booth.

When he’d settled himself completely and removed his glasses, setting them aside, Kurama ran deft fingers across the keyboards, acquainting himself with the location of the buttons on the synthesizer before flicking them to the ‘on’ position. He heard the door close as Yomi left the room and knew that his friend was now positioning himself before the soundboard, his own long fingers flicking the various knobs, dials, and switches arrayed across the top of the board.

The redhead took that time to flex his fingers and then ran them through some brief scales before Yomi’s voice came through the speakers. “Ready, Kurama?” he asked, and at the affirming nod of crimson hair, flicked the final switch. Almost immediately, the opening chords to ‘Darkside Stories’ filled the room.

Upon hearing those notes, Hiei’s head shot up, eyes going wide and jaw dropping in shock, anger and disbelief. His song! The bastard had had the balls to mess with HIS song for fuck’s sake!

Yet, as he continued to listen, Hiei felt his anger beginning to fall away. He admitted, albeit grudgingly and only to himself, that the arrangement was good. Hell, it was better than good… it was fucking fantastic! The bridge… he’d had so much trouble with that particular part of the song. He’d known what he’d wanted for the instrumental but couldn’t seem to get the music from his head to his fingers.

Though it seemed the redheaded keyboardist hadn’t suffered the same affliction. Kurama had chosen to use a bit of Mussorgsky’s ‘Night on Bald Mountain’ as the bridge rather than the half-hearted original attempt Hiei had made. It was, the small guitarist admitted to himself, the perfect fit for the dark theme of the song itself, and Hiei could not help the small, satisfied smile he felt tugging at his lips as he continued to watch and listen.

When the song ended and those beautiful, sightless green eyes that had been closed throughout his playing opened, Hiei’s carefully constructed mask of bored indifference laced with anger was once more fixed firmly upon his face. He watched as Kurama raised a slender hand and reached across the keyboard for the ‘com button. But before the redhead had a chance to press the button, Hiei strode forward, smashing the button on his side of the glass partition.

“What the FUCK do you think you’re doing to MY song?!” he spat.

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Thanks so much for ALL of the wonderful reviews and for sticking with me.

KogasHentaiLover: Mistress, I have NOT forgotten the promised Y/K lemony goodness. It will be forthcoming in the next installment!