A/N: This is a pentadrabble, exactly five hundred words not counting the title, and it's a one shot. Just a little idea that wouldn't let me get to sleep.

What I Won't Tell You

There are so many things that I will never tell you, Kurama. For starters, I'll never tell you about these nightly treks I take past your house, walking aimlessly and finding myself here. I'll never tell you why my feet take me to your window.

I won't tell you how protective I feel of you. I know that it's easily excused; I've protective of everyone. But you get hurt sometimes, and I wish I could protect you from it. Protect you from the death seed you must plant, from the child you must kill, from the second chances you have to offer and the sense that you must fight first to avenge past wrongs. I wish I could take that all away.

I feel protective of Keiko, too. But it's not like this. I feel like I need to protect Keiko because she can't protect herself. Nothing could be farther from the truth where you're concerned. Why do I feel this way?

Perhaps it's because I've seen you at your worst. I remember that day for so many reasons, not the least of all that I saw you, the smartest and calmest person I know, completely unnerved. But that wasn't the worst of it; the worst was having to stand there and listen to Karasu say those things to you, those loving words so carefully twisted. Words I might have liked to say to you in a different tone, only I didn't know it then. I still thought I was in love with Keiko then.

You know how I realized I wasn't in love with her? Because of the way touching her feels and the way touching you feels. Even if it's in the most innocent of ways, or the most inappropriate of circumstances, my body never fails to tingle when it comes into contact with yours. But I can hold Keiko's hand and nothing happens.

Of course I'll probably never tell her any of these things, either.

And the last thing I won't tell you is that I was here tonight. That I too sometimes sit at your window. I'm just as good as he is at masking my energy so that you don't feel me, but he doesn't need to anymore. This is what I won't tell you: that I watch you night after night wrapped up in his arms, curled against his chest, smiling in your sleep. Even he smiles when he sleeps with you. But I guess you know that, I guess you see him smile more than the rest of us do. I won't tell him how jealous I am of him, how much I wish I had been the one to know you from way back when, wish I was your partner in more than crime. I won't tell either of you what I see.

And what do I see? I see that you are happy with him. And that, Kurama, is the reason: the reason I won't tell you any of these things.