Yu Yu Hakusho Fan Fiction ❯ An Accomplished End ❯ Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu Yu Hakusho or Stargate: Atlantis.

 

Blah blah blah - memory

Blah blah blah - present

 

An Accomplished End

If only he had thought to do it sooner, it might not have come to this. He might have had a chance, the chance. But now, now he was done. There was no looking back, no changing the past. This may have been an end, but it wasn't the end. He looked around himself, his friends all having a good time, classmates enjoying their success. He smiled as he thought back on how it had started, this race to the finish.

Kurama sighed as Hiei got into yet another argument with Kuwabara. How they managed to go on like that he'd never know. However, he did know that the headache they were giving him really wasn't worth it. `Never a better time for a rain check'. He sighed once more as he stood to leave.

“Hey Kurama, where you headed?” He turned and addressed his friend.

“I'm sorry Yusuke, I don't mean to run out on you, but I have an errand to run for my mother.” No, it wasn't like him to lie but his head was really killing him. A hot cup of tea and a nap in front of the fire sounded better and better every second.

“Oh sure, no problem. We'll see you later right?” He saw Hiei look at him funny. It was impossible to pull one over on the smaller male. Kurama chuckled nervously at the thought of being called out and exposed by the standoffish hybrid. His smile became even more strained at the idea.

“Sure, right. Goodbye.” As he raced out the door he heard Hiei's voice tattling on him.

“Detective, you do know he lied, right?” Damn. He clutched his bag to his chest as he sped up, he could hear Yusuke and Kuwabara yelling at him to come back as he turned the corner. Oh well. That cup of tea in front of the fire was getting more and more appealing the longer he thought about it. His head was really pounding now, it was almost debilitating in nature. He sighed with relief as his house came into view. The roses and English ivy climbing the façade were a comforting sight, and it never failed to calm his soul.

The two-story house was one of his favorite places to be since the death of his father. He remembered the grin on his dad's face when the man came into their one room apartment located in the war zone all those years ago. He had been ten if he remembered correctly. He remembered the joy that registered on his mother's face along with the worry right after; they had enough trouble paying for the place they had at the time, how could they afford a house?

But his father had come through. As it turned out, the owner had been an old woman with about a million cats. She was giving up the house because she was moving to the states to live with her grandchildren. The house was just too much work for her to keep up by herself. She only wanted enough money out of the sale to make sure her cats had good homes and to get her and her belongings to America. The house was theirs in a matter of days and not three weeks after, his father had gotten a promotion. A year later he was walking home when a drunk driver hit him. He died instantly.

Shaking off the bad memories he fished his key from his pocket and unlocked the door. Inside, as always, his mother was waiting for him to return. And as always she knew exactly when something was wrong the moment she saw his face. Another person he couldn't hide anything from. Save for the fact that he was actually two people. Kurama greeted her with a kiss and made his way to the kitchen behind his mother. A hot cup of hibiscus tea was already there and waiting. He kissed his mother again and bee lined for the sofa. And wasn't he lucky? The fireplace was already lit. Ahh, life's simple pleasures.

Kurama looked around again. He noticed his mother and her husband, his father-in-law, and his son Shuichi waving at him. He smiled and nodded in their direction. He would really miss them when he left; he hoped Koenma would use his `check' to help make their lives as comfortable as possible. He knew there was a generous amount in the account he had with the organization, he should know. He'd never seen a penny of the money, even though he'd been promised payment after he'd paid back his debt.

Sensei continued to talk about mitosis and its importance in human life. Kurama looked out the window. He didn't care that much because he already knew the material. His head was starting to ache again; he'd noticed it happening more and more often as the months went by. He also wondered why Youko's physiology hadn't stepped in and annihilated the cause.

“Minamino-kun?” Kurama looked at his sensei and stood. Apparently he was expecting an answer. He'd just have to wing it.

“Prophase.”

“Correct. Thank you. Prophase is the…” Kurama let sensei's words fade into the background as he sat back down, his headache was getting worse. It felt as though someone was blowing a bullhorn in his ear. The last two months had been awful, the headaches had become migraines, and the migraines became something worse. He looked at the clock, 2:55. Ten minutes and he'd be free to go the appointment he'd set up with his doctor. He didn't tell his mother, he didn't want her to worry; she did enough of that.

The bell pulled him from his thoughts and he hurried from the room and to his locker. After a change of shoes and the strategic outmaneuvering of his overzealous fan club, he was on his way downtown. The train ride didn't take too long, about fifteen minutes, even though it was really crowded. The five-minute walk to the doctor's office was miserable though, his migraine just wouldn't quit. It was steadily getting worse; it took everything he had to concentrate long enough to put one foot in front of the other.

The office was plain in its design, off-white walls and beige chairs. The carpet was tan with small green and red squares, not offensive to the eyes in the least. He greeted the receptionist with a kind smile he didn't feel and began to fill out the papers. `Name: Minamino Shuuichi. Age: 18 DOB... blah, blah, blah…' The receptionist filed the papers and he went to sit in one of the stiff beige chairs to wait. The clock ticked on, slowly wearing on his already thin nerves. He shifted in his chair.

“Minamino.” His eyes found the face of the nurse that called him; if his head weren't in so much pain he would have found her attractive. Maybe even stopped to get her number, and address, and possibly find a way to get him-self invited over to her place for the evening, but as it was…. She took his height, weight and blood pressure, and then led him to a room down the hall. “The doctor will be with you shortly.” She turned and left. He scarcely noticed.

As he waited for the doctor he allowed his mind to wander, to think about nothing, to go blank. He stared at nothing, allowing numbness to seep into his mind and ease the ache or at least distract him from it. A hand gently shaking his shoulder brought him back to reality, and it took him a minute to realize what was going on. The kindly face of a middle-aged man looked back at him.

“Are you alright Shuuichi?” Kurama blinked before the question registered in his agony riddled mind.

“No, I'm not alright at all.” The doctor chuckled.

“Of course not, that's why you're here isn't it.” It wasn't a question. “Tell me what ails you.” He explained the almost constant, vicious pain that rang in his head. He told the man when it began, and how long the pain usually lasted.

“Hmm. To be honest, you could just be suffering from chronic migraines, but just to be sure I'd like you to have a CT Scan. It won't take long, about fifteen minutes, when are you available?” Kurama thought about it. His mother would worry if he started disappearing to go places without telling her first, and he really hated lying to her. Plus, he really wanted to know what was causing this pain.

“Can we do it now?” He noticed the surprise on the doctor's face as he said the words and immediately started to backtrack. “I mean, I don't mean to be a burden, if there's time another—“

“Relax, right now is fine. Follow me.” The doctor led him down a few halls and into a room with a large white machine resting in the center. “Are you wearing any metal?”

“Um, my watch.” He held up his wrist for the doctor's scrutiny.

The doctor smiled softly and held out a small plastic container. “Place it here and then we'll begin.” They walked to an odd looking machine that reminded Kurama of the portal from Stargate: Atlantis. “Lay on the table here, please.” Kurama lay on the table as asked and followed the few instruction the doctor called to him. Then he heard the machine start and took a deep breath, this time next week, he would know what was wrong with him.

“…why don't you come eat something honey?” Kurama looked over at his mother, surprise etched onto his face. He must really be getting slow if he hadn't heard her approach.

“I'm sorry, I'm afraid I didn't catch that.” His mother smiled gently and patted his arm.

“That's alright dear, I was just saying that since I didn't make any dinner you should eat here.” He blinked. Now that he thought about it, he was really quite hungry.

“Yes, I think I will join you.” He walked with his mother over to the table where everyone else was gathering to eat. He sat next to his stepbrother as his mother handed him a plate; leave it to her to treat her eighteen-year-old son like he was five. He didn't mind too much though, she knew (as did everyone else) that he was ill and it eased her mind to be able to do the small things for him. After a small prayer of thanks, he began to eat his meal in silence. He frowned. It was tasteless just like everything else these days. No flavor, only nutrients. He allowed his mind to wander once more as he poked at his food.

He continued to spit up bile as his eyes watered, the white knuckled grip on the plastic tub in his lap not going unnoticed by the doctor.

“Try to relax, it'll help.” Kurama couldn't hear him over the roaring in his ears. The burning in his eyes, nose and throat screamed in the forefront of his mind. The convulsions wracking his body shook him to the core, his muscles, pained and ravaged, felt as though they would never be at ease again.

As fastidious as he was, he couldn't force himself to care that his appearance was befouled by the mucus dripping from his nose, or the wretched yellow acid that poured forth from his mouth at each upheaval of his stomach. His breath came in strained bursts as the roiling in his belly slowed. It felt like hours had passed during the short two or three minutes in which he had started feeling the room move about. He took a shaky breath as he noticed, for the first time, the doctor patting his shoulder and rubbing his back.

He felt a damp rag run down his face and reveled in the comfort of it as the aftershocks of his ordeal shuddered through his aching body. The doctor helped him lie back on the table before going to fetch him a glass of water. Kurama shivered as he laid there, his arms wrapped around his torso, clinging to what little body heat he had left. He only noticed the doctor's return when the man touched his shoulder and held the cup to his lips. Kurama swore to himself that he would never again take water for granted as the cool refreshing liquid splashed down his throat, taking with it the repulsive stench and revolting taste of his digestive fluids.

He wasn't sure how long he was there. Had it been minutes? Hours even? He pushed the thought away as he left the building to head home. The doctor had told him that he would notify him of the results when he got them in a week. He walked slowly down to the road and hailed a cab; he wasn't feeling well enough to walk or ride the train.

“1346 Garden Ave. please.” He allowed himself to relax as he looked out the cab window.

He remembered that the very next week he received a call that changed his life forever. He remembered the doctor's exact words on that day.

“Your results came in and I'm afraid that I don't have any good news for you.”

“I see. Well, I guess there's no point in avoiding it. May I know the results?” His mother was behind looking curious. He smiled softly at her to dispel her worry.

“Minamino-san?” Kurama started.

“Yes, I'm sorry I was distracted for a moment. Please continue.” Papers ruffled on the other side of the phone.

“Well, the scan shows that you've developed a neoplasm in th…” He cut the man on the line off.

“A what?” He was genuinely confused; he had never heard that word before.

“A neoplasm, a brain tumor. I'm sorry. I would like for you to come in tomorrow to discu…” Kurama could no longer hear him as he had dropped the phone. His mind was running so fast that he just couldn't keep up with what was happening inside of it. He didn't understand. His mother's hand on his arm caught his attention. She held the phone out to him and he took it.

“Is everything okay Shuuichi?” He nodded to her apologized to the other man.

“It's alright son, most people have worse reactions to something like this than just dropping a phone. But back to the matter at hand. I need you to come in tomorrow morning so I can run some tests. Is that okay?”

“Yes, I… I can do that. I'll see you tomorrow morning.” He didn't wait to hear the doctor's reply before he hung up. There was only one question in his mind now. How was he going to tell his mother?

And tell her he did. She had been absolutely heart broken. She had cried and her tears had crushed him. He did the only thing he could and held her. He wanted to cry himself, but his mother needed him. She was the most important person in his life, and whether he was alive and well or dead and six feet under, he would always be there for her.

Kurama went to the hospital the next day instead of the clinic. The doctor met him there. More tests were done, and more tests after those. One week later he and his mother sat in a room with the doctor discussing the results. The tumor had a long name he wouldn't bother trying to pronounce and it was inoperable. The man's next words had made his mother squeal with joy: it was benign. He said that the cause of the headaches was the increased pressure on his brain, and that if worse came to worse he would just shunt the area to relieve the pressure. His mother's joy was contagious, and he too was smiling for all he was worth.

“I hope this clears things up for you.”

“Thank you so much. I don't know what I would have done if anything happened to my baby.” He frowned at his mother's words.

“I'm hardly a baby, mother.” She just smiled at him, her eyes alight with relief.

“I'm sorry dear, let me rephrase that. Thank you so much. I don't know what I would have done if anything happened to my strapping, grown up son.” The doctor chuckled at Kurama's martyred face.

“Don't feel bad son, my mother still talks about me like that too. ”The three shared a laugh. “I want you to come back in a month for a check-up, alright?” Kurama nodded his assent and he and his mother went to tell the rest of their family the good news. For the first time in over three weeks he felt he could breath easy and not worry about tomorrow.

Kurama looked at his mother and her husband. He was glad they were so happy together; it would be easier for her to move on after he died. He sighed and studied the faces around the tables in the school gymnasium, every single one of them was smiling. Again he allowed his thoughts to wander back to when he found out what was happening.

He sat on the table in the doctor's office in morose contemplation; his face was completely blank as his fingers fiddled with the hospital gown he wore. The doctor stood across from him a frown etched on his face. Silence filled the air between them.

“I know this is hard to accept, Shuuichi, but sometimes…” he paused for a moment, thinking over his words before he said them, “sometimes we just have to keep going. Don't let this get you down, we'll find a way to help you.”

“Please, I'm not an idiot. I know when there's nothing anyone can do. Don't give me false hope to lean on.” He knew he was being rude, but the man had insulted his intelligence telling him that they would find a way. He wasn't a fool.

“Don't misunderstand, I'm not saying that there's a cure. I'm saying that we will continue to look for a way to save your life. To remove such a large tumor from such a dangerous place caters lots of thought and planning. Just because things aren't looking good at the moment doesn't mean you should give up.”

“What else is there for me to do? There's no hope left for me. I'm going to die. I mean, we all die eventually, but this is too soon…” He continued to mumble. The doctor eyed him thoughtfully.

“What was that?” Kurama looked up, with a questioning look. “I though I heard you say, “I can't believe this is happening again.”” Kurama paled which caused him to probe deeper. “Care to explain?”

“It's nothing.” Kurama then dressed and left, not giving the older man time to ask anymore questions. He hadn't been back since.

“Sweetheart, you haven't eaten a thing. Are you okay?” He looked at the hand that lay atop his. His poor mother was so worried.

“I'm fine mother. It's just that it's hard to eat when nothing tastes good anymore.” He smiled for her benefit. He knew he wasn't all right. His time was approaching and quickly.

“I'm sorry sweetie, but you've lost so much weight. I'm worried about you.” Kurama gave in and ate the food on his plate. He grimaced; he didn't enjoy eating anymore. It either made him sick, or it tasted foul. He excused himself from the table, calming his mother as he stood.

“I'm only going to the restroom mother, I'll be right back.” The walk through the halls of the familiar building was difficult. He felt severely winded, as though he had run a marathon instead of only walking a few hundred feet. He was thankful his family was still at the table; the only reason he had excused himself was because he knew. Kurama leaned against the wall. His vision swam and his head was beginning to ache again. This time was the worst yet, the pain, excruciating. Using the wall as support he stumbled his way to the bathroom door.

The doorway seemed to tilt sideways as he fell through it, the tile floor rose to meet his face. He could feel his heart racing, could hear nothing but the blood rushing through his veins. His sight alternated between black mist and bright explosions of white light. He gasped, struggling to inhale each breath as his lungs constricted. He no longer had any control over his muscles; his body lay limp on the floor. His eyesight faded completely, as the breath gurgled from his lips.