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You’d only wanted to help.
Naive, Hiei would have called you. Foolish.
He’d be right, you think with a grimace, clamping your lower lip between your teeth to prevent another whimper from escaping. Botan squeezes your hand, her brows furrowed in concern, and Kurama shoots you a sympathetic glance but continues tending to your wound. The scent of the salve he’d fashioned from one of his plants blends with the cloying musk of your blood.
You feel sick.
“It’s deep,” Kurama murmurs, spirit energy seeping from his fingers into your wound. Over his shoulder, you can see Yusuke pacing, his hands trembling before curling into fists at his sides. “I can facilitate the healing process, but it will take time.”
You grit your teeth. Already the agony of the demon’s claws has begun to fade, though that doesn’t stop the tears from wetting your cheeks or the pained grimaces that twist your lips.
Struggling to focus on anything but the sensation of your flesh knitting back together under Kurama’s ministrations, you manage to catch Yusuke’s gaze, and though the spirit detective jerks to a stop as soon as he notices your stare, he’s quick to avert his eyes.
You want to tell him it’s alright, that he isn’t at fault for what happened to you. You had volunteered to bait the demon out into the open - it had already attacked three humans and nearly killed another, and you’d wanted to contribute to its capture. You’d known the risks.
“Focus on yourself for now,” Kurama chides you gently, no doubt guessing the direction of your thoughts by the helpless expression you’d been casting at the spirit detective. “We could all benefit from a little guilt. We should not have allowed - ” His words trail off suddenly, jade eyes darting toward where the spirit detective has resumed his pacing. “Yusuke - !”
But it’s too late.
Hiei’s fist connects with Yusuke’s jaw with a resounding crack, the spirit detective hitting the ground with enough force to shatter concrete. At the sight of the fire apparition you struggle to pick yourself up, but you’re stayed by the gentle press of Kurama’s hand and the firmness of his voice.
“That’s enough, Hiei.”
Even though it’s not directed at you, Hiei’s glare sears you to the bone. “This was his idea, was it not?”
“This isn’t the time, Hiei,” Botan interjects, lips downturned in disapproval.
Hiei’s curled fists spit flames. “Isn’t the time - !”
“Hiei.” Your voice is a reedy gasp, but it might as well be a shout for how quickly it captures Hiei’s attention. His teeth clench, his eyes darting from your face to the wound at your throat and back again.
“Tch.” The flames licking at his wrists disperse, though his thunderous expression doesn’t waver. Rather than ready another strike for Yusuke, however, he approaches you.
“Will it heal?” he asks Kurama, his voice deepened with the vestiges of anger you know he still feels, though his eyes never stray from yours.
Kurama sighs, his hand easing away from your throat with a last burst of spirit energy. “With rest,” he confirms.
“Then rest you shall receive,” Botan decrees, her voice injected with as much of her usual cheer as she can muster in this situation. “Come now, we’ll help you home - “
“We’ve had enough of your help.” Hiei’s voice is little more than a growl, and though Botan acts unaffected, her smile twitches at the edges.
Without another word, Hiei bends and scoops you into his arms. You can do little but mouth a silent thank you to Kurama and Botan over the fire apparition’s shoulder as he carries you away. Yusuke stares after you with a fixed expression, the side of his face scuffed and a little charred from Hiei’s punch, and you give him a smile you hope is assuring.
The trek home is a quiet one. Hiei’s pace is steady, though lacking the speed you know he’s capable of. His anger fails to trump his concern for you, it seems, and a small, tired smile curls your lips despite the disaster the night had become.
“Wasn’t Yusuke’s fault,” you croak, wincing at the strain on your throat but knowing you need to explain.
Hiei scoffs but says nothing. His body runs hot against yours, heat seeping through his clothes and into your skin, and though it’s a welcome contrast to the cold, hard ground and the tacky wetness of your blood spilling out beneath you, knowing it’s attributed to his anger urges you to continue.
“I volunteered,” you tell him, curling your fingers in his shirt. You wish he would look at you, rather than pinning his gaze on the horizon.
“Then you’re a fool.” The words should sting, but the ire behind them falls flat in the wake of Hiei’s grip firming around you, pulling you closer against his chest.
He’s angry, yes, but it’s more than anger that had wreathed his fists in flames.
“How did you find me?” You already know the answer, but the confirmation feels like a fitting punishment somehow.
“Your blood.” Your heart climbs into your throat. Even without the benefit of a demon’s enhanced senses, the scent of your own blood had overwhelmed you. Even now, it clings to your nose, your collar soaked with remnants from the wound the demon had inflicted on you.
And there had been so much of it.
Your next exhale is a wet one. “Sorry,” you rasp, pushing your cheek against the curve of his shoulder. You try to imagine it - Hiei’s blood guiding you to him, only to find him wounded and in pain in a pool of red - and you shudder.
Hiei slows to a stop; this close, you can feel more than hear the small breath he releases. “You put yourself at risk,” he tells you, and finally his dark eyes seek out yours, catching your gaze and holding it. “Do not do it again.”
It’s an order and a plea all at once, insomuch as you’ve ever heard Hiei plead for anything. You wet your lips, and though your throat aches with the effort of it, the words come easy.
“I won’t.”