Title: Baby's First
Fandom: Yu Yu Hakusho
Summary: Shiori reflects upon the many "firsts" in her son's life. (Shiori's p.o.v.)
Warnings: Slight yaoi.
Author's Notes: Shiori owns. I've always wanted to write something with her in it, but I've never really had the chance to. I was flipping through some old boxes of my stuff and came across my "baby book"—y'know, those things that parents keep about their kids "baby's first tooth", "baby's first step", etc? I thought of Shiori and Kurama, and this little fic was the result. Thanks to Hitome for the beta!
My Shuuichi has always been such a remarkable child in every way.
Even now, sixteen years after his birth, I find myself writing in his "baby book", something I stopped doing years ago. Indeed, I stopped writing Shuuichi's "firsts" long before my friends had with their children. My Shuuichi has always been more advanced than other children—he took his first step at three months, said his first word at five months, and spoke fluently at a year.
To this day, I still remember that cool morning in autumn when I found him immersed in his father's college textbooks. Shuuichi's father was a biology major, and there on the kitchen floor was my little seven-year-old Shuuichi, surrounded by the thick books his father had studied for his master's degree.
Stunned, I had gaped at him, wondering first what he was doing with the books, and second how on earth he had gotten to them.
Shuuichi simply blinked at me and said "The books? They aren't difficult for me, Mother. I like learning about the flowers." He looked at me with those beautiful eyes—his father's eyes, deep and intelligent—and returned to his reading.
When Shuuichi was ten—scarcely a year after I received the scars on my arms—he came home late from school. He wasn't alone—he was supporting another young boy. In response to my incredulous look, he said simply "This is my friend. We're playing army and he was injured. I'm taking him to headquarters."
My Shuuichi rarely spoke of friends, and he never played pretend games with the other children. I swallowed the lump in my throat and blinked tears of joy out of my eyes. "You take care of your comrade, soldier."
He nodded as if it was the most solemn assignment one could be given, and walked past me, stopping just long enough to let me ruffle his hair.
I took out his baby book that night, and on the blank page I wrote "Shuuichi's first friend".
Five years passed before I saw that boy again. He came to visit me in the hospital with Shuuichi. He didn't seem to have grown since they were ten, but there was a distinct maturity in his face, and oldness in his eyes. He looked at me for a moment, almost calculatingly, and then turned to Shuuichi. "She is the one?"
I was confused. My eyes were half-lidded—I think he thought me to be sleeping.
Shuuichi nodded to him. "I would do anything for her, Hiei. Anything to save her."
The boy—Hiei—raised his eyebrows. They nearly vanished beneath the white bandana he wore around his forehead. "Anything?" He repeated, a faint tone of skeptical disbelief in his voice.
Shuuichi's green eyes looked straight at me. "Anything, Hiei."
Hiei regarded him quietly for a few moments. "So be it, then," he said softly. "I'll contact you." He touched Shuuichi's arm—a gesture of comfort? friendship?—and left the room.
Shuuichi sat down in his usual chair beside my bed, sighing. He took my hand in both of his. His hands were cool and shook slightly, and I wanted to squeeze them back but could not find the strength. "Everything I do," he whispered finally, raising my hand to his lips and kissing the palm, "I do for you, Mother."
I began to fear for him, then.
When I recovered, he began to leave home. Sometimes for a day, sometimes two. Sometimes three.
This time, he was gone a week. He came home tonight, Hiei with him. They came into the house a little after ten, and I had been sitting in the kitchen. The faint sound of the door opening and closing was enough to send me running, and the sight of the two of them was enough to stop me in my tracks. Both boys looked tired and pale, and Shuuichi seemed to be trembling slightly. But he smiled his beautiful Shuuichi smile and let me hug him, his arms coming gently around me. I could feel bandages beneath the light coat he wore, but I didn't question him. I'd ask later. For now, he was home, and that was enough.
Pulling away from me, he asked if Hiei could spend the night. I said yes, of course, and Shuuichi left me with a smile, heading up the stairs with Hiei. I didn't fail to notice Hiei's firm grip on Shuuichi's arm.
Later, I went upstairs to check on them. They spoke in hushed voices from behind Shuuichi's half-closed door. It's a woman's prerogative to give in to temptation, and I exercised it, peeking in.
Shuuichi sat shirtless on the edge of his bed, and I nearly gasped to see the scattering of cuts and scars over his chest and torso, some of them looking dangerously fresh. Hiei sat next to him, wrapping a fresh bandage around Shuuichi's forearm.
"You need to be more careful," Hiei was saying. "That madman nearly killed you."
Shuuichi gave him a tired smile, and I could see Hiei's stern expression falter. "He didn't, though. I'm fine. Besides, you wouldn't have let me die."
"Damn right, I wouldn't have," Hiei growled, tying the bandage off. He was tender, though, when he gently kissed the palm of Shuuichi's hand. "You're a damn fool, Kurama, fighting him like that."
Shuuichi laughed. "So you tell me."
Hiei sighed and dropped Shuuichi's hand. They sat together silently for a moment, and then Hiei reached out, touching a raised scar that ran across Shuuichi's stomach. "This one. This is the one I gave you." There was no uncertainty in his voice—a statement, rather than a question.
Shuuichi put his bandaged hand over Hiei's, and I saw for the first time that the smaller boy's hand was also bandaged to the fingertips. "Yes."
"You kept it." Hiei's red eyes—redder than the blood on the bandages that lay crumpled on the floor—flickered up to meet Shuuichi's. "Why?"
That sweet sweet smile again, the Shuuichi smile. "To remember. To remember everything that happened."
"Everything," Shuuichi affirmed, and closed the gap between them, pressing his lips against Hiei's. "Everything I do," he whispered, so softly I could barely hear him, "I do for you."
He had said those words to me, once. Not so long ago.
I stayed, just long enough to see Hiei kiss him, pushing him gently down against the bedcovers amidst the used bandages and torn clothing. Shutting the door silently behind me, I returned to my own bedroom, taking out his baby book again.
And now I'll turn to the next blank page, and finally write "Shuuichi's first love".
Notes: Shiori pwns mad n00bs. Also, reviews make me very very very happy.