Yu Yu Hakusho Fan Fiction ❯ Addicted To You ❯ Different lives.... ( Chapter 10 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Youko-Kurama 
A glimpse of the family lives of Kurama and Hiei.
First appearance of Shiori and Yoshima.
-Saku
Anime/Manga: Yu Yu Hakusho Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / / Comedy | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 07.05.2003 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.2K | Visits: 657 | Status: Completed
A glimpse of the family lives of Kurama and Hiei.
First appearance of Shiori and Yoshima.
-Saku
Anime/Manga: Yu Yu Hakusho Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / / Comedy | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 07.05.2003 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.2K | Visits: 657 | Status: Completed
* * *
As soon as the bell rang, the school building emptied. It was chaotic. Kurama was grateful to go home after such an uneventful day and he made a point of letting his mother know this as he flung open the front door. "Kaasan, I'm home!" His mother, Shiori, appeared from in the kitchen her long black hair framing her smiling features as she made her way down the hall. Wrapping her thin arms around her son, Shiori planted a kiss on Kurama's forehead.
"School's over already?" She glanced at the clock. " I seem to be losing track of time these days. It feels like you left for school but an hour ago."
"Trust me, it was a lot longer than that." Kurama slipped off his shoes and dropped his backpack on the staircase. Following his mother into the kitchen, Kurama's nose was flooded with the smell of pastries.
"I just took these out of the oven. I was thinking about you today." Shiori held up a sheet of peanut butter cookies and Kurama eyed them hungrily. He reached for one but his hand was slapped away. "Wash up first. They'll be right here when you get back." She winked and began to pour herself a cup of tea from the kettle. Kurama ran his hands through his mother's fine hair and rested his chin on her head while she made the tea.
"You know I remember when you were barely tall enough to reach the counter tops. Now look at you. My little boy is no longer so manageable."
"I think you have gotten smaller Kaasan. I don't remember being manageable…." He gave her a slight hug around the waist and obediently made his way to the washroom dragging his bag up the stairs behind him.
Supper that night consisted of Thai pan. Kurama and his mother exchanged stories at the table and laughed whole-heartedly at each other's daily mishaps. Shiori was shocked however when Kurama mentioned his debate teacher's having fainted. "That's awful! Was it the heat?" She asked lowering her chopsticks mid bite.
Kurama narrowed his eyes thoughtfully and poked at his noodles. " I don't know. I wasn't there when it happened. I'm guessing that's the cause." He leaned back in his chair. "Thank you for dinner, kaasan, it was delicious."
Shiori took a sip of her tea while eyeing her son's still full plate of food. She decided it better not to say anything, though she was mildly concerned with her son's lack of appetite. "Don't bother thanking me. You know I don't mind slaving away in the kitchen all day for you." She teased instead. "Oh, that reminds me. Will you be all right on your own tomorrow night? I have to work late and afterwards I have a meeting to attend. I won't be home until after twelve."
Kurama reached over and snatched a cookie from the counter. "Don't worry about me. Go to your meeting."
"Alright. I'll leave you something to eat on th-"
"Mother, I can cook my own food. You know this."
Shiori pinked in the cheeks and began to play with the edge of the tablecloth with her thin, delicate fingers. "I'm sorry, I keep forgetting how grown up you are. Sometimes I wish I could stop you from getting older….I want you to stay dependant on me but at the same time I am so proud that you are as independent as you are. I know you can't stay my little boy forever. A mother can only hope for so much."
Kurama watched his mother twist the cloth around her fingers and release it, then repeat the action once more. The mood had grown suddenly very quiet and reflective and the redhead watched his mother thoughtfully before answering her. "Hey. Who says I grew up?" Shiori looked up at him and Kurama stuck his tongue out playfully. Her eyes widened at her seventeen year old son's joke and then she giggled.
"You're too much."
* * *
"What the fuck do you think you're doing boy?"
Hiei froze where he was, his hand still inside the cupboard.
"Getting something to eat."
"What I made wasn't good enough? It that it?" Yoshima staggered a bit and leaned one hand on the door frame, a beer in the other. Hiei continued to search the cupboard. "You DIDN'T make anything, Yoshima. Otherwise I would have eaten it."
"Smart ass. I made dinner!" Stomping over to the fridge, the forty-four year old foster parent flung it open. Hiei turned to watch as Yoshima began to toss food.
"Here. Salad."
Hiei caught the head of lettuce just in time to avoid a potentioal concussion. "Whoa. You don't have to throw--"
"Here. Sandwiches."
Out flew the bread. It landed with a plop on the counter next to Hiei.
"Yoshima, what are you--?"
"Here. Juice." Yoshima flung a package of juice boxes at the teen.
"Ahh!" Hiei slapped at them with his palm, causing the beverages to fall onto the dirty floor with a smack.
"Eat something for god's sake. You're a fuck'n pole! People will start to think I never feed you around here." The man burped, cursed and then left the room.
Hiei blinked, still holding the lettuce.
"Bastard."
He hopped down from the counter and put the juiceboxes and lettuce back into the fridge. Then he made himself a jam sandwich and took it up to his room. God how he wished his foster mother, Keira, would come back. It had been what? Three months now? Three months since she left for Africa on a religious expedition of sorts. Yoshima didn't want her to go and they had argued for weeks on the subject. Then one morning just before dawn, Keira came into his room and told Hiei that she was leaving and to take care of her husband while she was away....
Hiei snorted at the memory as he climbed the old, creeky, wooden staircase to his new room and shivered in response to the draft that blew in from the single window beside his bed.
Keira was the reason Hiei had agreed to being adopted. Well sort of. Because of his complicated family situation, what with a mother who abandoned him as a child and an unknown father, Hiei was taken into the custody of Children's Aid and placed in several temporary homes with totally different families each time. As a result, Hiei turned cold and anti-social. He drove people away and refused to bond with anyone. Anyone -that is- until Keira. It just so happened that her husband, Yoshima Tamago, was a drinker. Children's Aid hadn't forseen this as a potential problem and thus, Hiei had a new adoptive family.
"They just wanted to get rid of me." Hiei set his plate down on the window ledge and pulled on a night shirt. "No one got sent back as much as I did," he laughed to himself, "bastards."
Keira would come back. Wouldn't she? Did Yoshima really send her that letter telling her they moved to Tokyo? Did she even know her husband had been fired from the factory? That they were on welfare now?
Hiei shivered and sat on the bed. Taking a bite of his sandwich, he stared out at the starfilled sky.
"Have you abandoned me too?"
_______________________________________________________ ___________________________
As soon as the bell rang, the school building emptied. It was chaotic. Kurama was grateful to go home after such an uneventful day and he made a point of letting his mother know this as he flung open the front door. "Kaasan, I'm home!" His mother, Shiori, appeared from in the kitchen her long black hair framing her smiling features as she made her way down the hall. Wrapping her thin arms around her son, Shiori planted a kiss on Kurama's forehead.
"School's over already?" She glanced at the clock. " I seem to be losing track of time these days. It feels like you left for school but an hour ago."
"Trust me, it was a lot longer than that." Kurama slipped off his shoes and dropped his backpack on the staircase. Following his mother into the kitchen, Kurama's nose was flooded with the smell of pastries.
"I just took these out of the oven. I was thinking about you today." Shiori held up a sheet of peanut butter cookies and Kurama eyed them hungrily. He reached for one but his hand was slapped away. "Wash up first. They'll be right here when you get back." She winked and began to pour herself a cup of tea from the kettle. Kurama ran his hands through his mother's fine hair and rested his chin on her head while she made the tea.
"You know I remember when you were barely tall enough to reach the counter tops. Now look at you. My little boy is no longer so manageable."
"I think you have gotten smaller Kaasan. I don't remember being manageable…." He gave her a slight hug around the waist and obediently made his way to the washroom dragging his bag up the stairs behind him.
Supper that night consisted of Thai pan. Kurama and his mother exchanged stories at the table and laughed whole-heartedly at each other's daily mishaps. Shiori was shocked however when Kurama mentioned his debate teacher's having fainted. "That's awful! Was it the heat?" She asked lowering her chopsticks mid bite.
Kurama narrowed his eyes thoughtfully and poked at his noodles. " I don't know. I wasn't there when it happened. I'm guessing that's the cause." He leaned back in his chair. "Thank you for dinner, kaasan, it was delicious."
Shiori took a sip of her tea while eyeing her son's still full plate of food. She decided it better not to say anything, though she was mildly concerned with her son's lack of appetite. "Don't bother thanking me. You know I don't mind slaving away in the kitchen all day for you." She teased instead. "Oh, that reminds me. Will you be all right on your own tomorrow night? I have to work late and afterwards I have a meeting to attend. I won't be home until after twelve."
Kurama reached over and snatched a cookie from the counter. "Don't worry about me. Go to your meeting."
"Alright. I'll leave you something to eat on th-"
"Mother, I can cook my own food. You know this."
Shiori pinked in the cheeks and began to play with the edge of the tablecloth with her thin, delicate fingers. "I'm sorry, I keep forgetting how grown up you are. Sometimes I wish I could stop you from getting older….I want you to stay dependant on me but at the same time I am so proud that you are as independent as you are. I know you can't stay my little boy forever. A mother can only hope for so much."
Kurama watched his mother twist the cloth around her fingers and release it, then repeat the action once more. The mood had grown suddenly very quiet and reflective and the redhead watched his mother thoughtfully before answering her. "Hey. Who says I grew up?" Shiori looked up at him and Kurama stuck his tongue out playfully. Her eyes widened at her seventeen year old son's joke and then she giggled.
"You're too much."
* * *
"What the fuck do you think you're doing boy?"
Hiei froze where he was, his hand still inside the cupboard.
"Getting something to eat."
"What I made wasn't good enough? It that it?" Yoshima staggered a bit and leaned one hand on the door frame, a beer in the other. Hiei continued to search the cupboard. "You DIDN'T make anything, Yoshima. Otherwise I would have eaten it."
"Smart ass. I made dinner!" Stomping over to the fridge, the forty-four year old foster parent flung it open. Hiei turned to watch as Yoshima began to toss food.
"Here. Salad."
Hiei caught the head of lettuce just in time to avoid a potentioal concussion. "Whoa. You don't have to throw--"
"Here. Sandwiches."
Out flew the bread. It landed with a plop on the counter next to Hiei.
"Yoshima, what are you--?"
"Here. Juice." Yoshima flung a package of juice boxes at the teen.
"Ahh!" Hiei slapped at them with his palm, causing the beverages to fall onto the dirty floor with a smack.
"Eat something for god's sake. You're a fuck'n pole! People will start to think I never feed you around here." The man burped, cursed and then left the room.
Hiei blinked, still holding the lettuce.
"Bastard."
He hopped down from the counter and put the juiceboxes and lettuce back into the fridge. Then he made himself a jam sandwich and took it up to his room. God how he wished his foster mother, Keira, would come back. It had been what? Three months now? Three months since she left for Africa on a religious expedition of sorts. Yoshima didn't want her to go and they had argued for weeks on the subject. Then one morning just before dawn, Keira came into his room and told Hiei that she was leaving and to take care of her husband while she was away....
Hiei snorted at the memory as he climbed the old, creeky, wooden staircase to his new room and shivered in response to the draft that blew in from the single window beside his bed.
Keira was the reason Hiei had agreed to being adopted. Well sort of. Because of his complicated family situation, what with a mother who abandoned him as a child and an unknown father, Hiei was taken into the custody of Children's Aid and placed in several temporary homes with totally different families each time. As a result, Hiei turned cold and anti-social. He drove people away and refused to bond with anyone. Anyone -that is- until Keira. It just so happened that her husband, Yoshima Tamago, was a drinker. Children's Aid hadn't forseen this as a potential problem and thus, Hiei had a new adoptive family.
"They just wanted to get rid of me." Hiei set his plate down on the window ledge and pulled on a night shirt. "No one got sent back as much as I did," he laughed to himself, "bastards."
Keira would come back. Wouldn't she? Did Yoshima really send her that letter telling her they moved to Tokyo? Did she even know her husband had been fired from the factory? That they were on welfare now?
Hiei shivered and sat on the bed. Taking a bite of his sandwich, he stared out at the starfilled sky.
"Have you abandoned me too?"
_______________________________________________________ ___________________________