Disclaimer: Kenshin does not own the Yuu Yuu Hakusho characters (they are the property of Togashi Yoshihiro et al), and does not make any money from said characters.

What Kenshin does own, however, are all the original characters in this work. Any attempt to "borrow" these characters will be met with the katana, or worse.

For those into timelines,Idiot Beloved is set after the Dark Tournament; Firebird Sweet follows. For background on the mysterious Agency, see Operation Rosary, Trade Secret, Farewell Mr. Groovy, and The Book of Cat With Moon. Nightwalk Pavilion takes place soon after Maya's Tale, when the boys are now in their early 20s, Hiei being the eldest by a few years.

This particular story concerns a couple of Spirit Detectives, detecting. And features a rare-for this author-appearance by Urameshi Yuusuke.

Title: Nightwalk Pavilion

Author: JaganshiKenshin

Genre: General, Mystery

Rating: K+/PG-13

Summary: The town is deserted, Kuwabara is acting strangely, and Kurama is missing. It's up to Hiei and Yuusuke to find out why.

A/N: Thanks for reading this, and I appreciate your reviews!

Could it really be a place where dreams come true?

Nightwalk Pavilion (Part 1: Barrier! Hiei and Yuusuke Walk Into A Trap!)

by

Kenshin

On that soft June night, the main drag was deserted, but not deserted enough.

"Yo, Hiei!" From the end of the block, someone hailed him, and with a long-suffering sigh, Hiei stopped.

Six feet of gristle and bone, with a granite slab-face topped by a carrot-colored buzz cut, Kuwabara Kazuma approached.

Every three or four steps, Kuwabara took a little sidewise jog, then corrected his course. Strange, Hiei thought, like he can't decide whether to stay or go.

Kuwabara lurched to a halt. He looked down at Hiei. He rasped, "Just the guy I wanna see."

"I doubt it." Hiei prided himself on having gained enough patience to handle even Kuwabara with detachment. He had, in fact, just been ejected from filming a rather involved commercial for a new department store. Two weeks of close confinement with make-up artists and costumers poking at him like some Barbie doll, and Hiei had refrained from slaying a single one of them.

Then the financial backers withdrew, and the project was canceled. Still Hiei had slain no one. This was progress.

Kuwabara's jacket was filthy, his face shiny, his eyes bloodshot. He looked-and smelled-as though he hadn't bathed in a week. Scraping a hand through his greasy hair, his gaze darting everywhere, Kuwabara replied, "Yeah, but I'm, ahhh, headin' back to, you know, that place."

"Let me guess. The Nightwalk Pavilion?"

"Yeah, yeah, that place where dreams come true! Wanna come?"

"No." Hiei hadn't seen the light of day since starting work on the ad, and was just trudging home, starved.

"You should go, man!" Kuwabara bared his teeth. "Where dreams come true!" Turning abruptly, he jerked down the street like a badly-operated marionette and disappeared around a corner.

Was that why the city was deserted? Because everyone was busy having his dreams come true?

The Nightwalk Pavilion. The very name was mysterious, exotic, intriguing. Hiei wondered who owned it.

He resumed his trudge, but a rush of wind and a flying figure stopped him in his tracks.

"Hiei!" It was Botan, Koenma's chief ferry girl and Urameshi's sidekick, white-knuckling her oar straight at his head. "Thank goodness I found you!" She braked just in time, hovering in mid-air, her azure ponytail in disarray with the speed of her arrival.

"Go be cheerful on some other planet," Hiei grumbled.

"I'm not cheerful! I'm concerned. Besides, how can I be cheerful when the mayor is missing?"

"That carpetbagger? Good riddance."

"Hiei! This is an emergency." Waggling her finger, she added, "Where's your sense of civic duty? No, don't answer. Now you wait right here for Yuusuke!"

Hiei was no fan of Kuwabara's, but oddly enough they worked better together than he and Yuusuke. "What for?"

"Haven't you been paying attention?" Botan waved at the empty street. "I'm off to find Kurama. Don't move a muscle!" But before Hiei could inform her that Kurama had also gone AWOL, she soared off.

From the window of an all-night coffee shop, a well-dressed elderly woman stared at Hiei. Something in her stare drew him, and he went to the shop, the old lady tracking his every step. "So you're going, too," she said.

Up close, she had a pug nose, and startlingly vivid eyes of hydrangea blue. Hiei asked, "Going where, grandmother?"

"There," she said bitterly. "That damned Pavilion."

"And what if I am?"

"People go but never leave. The city's lost."

He said, not unkindly, "Go home. This is no place for you."

"Home's not the same without my son and the kids."

"Your son? At the Nightwalk Pavilion...?"

"Whole blasted family. When it first opened a week ago. Not a word until he just called me for more money. As if I'd be fool enough to send it."

It's got nothing to do with me, Hiei told himself. He didn't know this old woman from Eve. Yet he heard his own voice saying, "I'll bring them back."

She pressed her lips together. "For a pipsqueak you sure talk big."

He let the insult go.

Outside, there was Urameshi Yuusuke running to meet him, a combat-fit youth of medium height with brown eyes that blazed fighting spirit, and Yakuza hair black as a jelly-bean.

Urameshi looked around. "I've been inside slingin' ramen all week and just got the call. Isn't Kurama here yet?"

"No, and Botan won't find him."

"Then it's just us two." Urameshi cheerfully cracked his knuckles. "Botan says it's in a bad part of town."

"Good." As they headed for the notorious Myu-Myu district, Hiei recounted what the old lady had said. "Eerie. Like a post-apocalyptic city, with no apocalypse."

"What do you think's goin' on?"

"Kuwabara looked-like he was in the grip of something. But he wasn't drunk. No smell of liquor."

They crossed a deserted boulevard. "Was he sick?"

"Maybe," Hiei said thoughtfully. "And haven't you noticed? For a while now, there's been a sound in the background, maybe music, maybe not."

"I thought there was a smell..." Urameshi sniffed, ostentatiously. "Nope, gone."

Though Hiei admired Urameshi as a fighter, as a gumshoe-

But, Hiei told himself, he was calm, mature, dignified. Rather than wish for Kurama's brainy presence, he would play to Urameshi's strengths: toughness, buoyancy, and luck.

Urameshi was, after all, their linchpin, the man whose very character had caused Hiei to change...a little. And somewhere along the way, he had been roped into fighting the Shadow Wars for the mysterious Agency, whose existence was so hush-hush not even government officials knew of it.

This made him a very busy man. "Better find a taxi."

"Well, Sherlock?" Urameshi took a look down the street. "Why did we resist the irresistible?"

Good question. "What's different about us?"

"Youkai blood? My ancestor-"

"No. Kurama's missing, too." Hiei frowned. "Let's not overcomplicate this. Maybe it's as simple as being indoors."

"Meaning we didn't get caught in the first crush?"

"That old lady said once you go, you stay."

"But Kuwabara got out."

"Yeah. And went right back in."

Urameshi hailed a passing cab. Most cabbies avoided the heart of the Myu-Myu district even in daylight. Not this guy.

Hiei dug out a lump of cash and handed it to the driver. "Gave me too much." He pushed some of the cash back toward Hiei.

Hiei waved it away. "I'm paying you for information."

"Cop? Yakuza?" With a worried look, the cabbie drove off.

"Relax. I just want to know some demographics."

"Some what?"

Over Urameshi's giggle, Hiei said, "Your fares. How old they were, how many, that sort of thing."

The cabbie thought a minute. "Everybody wants to go. I mean everybody." As the cab pressed on, the neighborhood grew seamier. "Been hauling couples, teenagers, salarymen, families with kids, and the funny thing is, never any return fares."

"I get it." Hiei glanced at the streets, and then saw a crowd up ahead-and something much more bizarre and interesting. "This is far enough," he told the cabbie. "Let us out here."

The Nightwalk Pavilion stood before them. An entire block of derelict buildings had been knocked down to make room for its construction, and a restless line of people stretched around the perimeter, waiting to get in.

They strolled toward the entrance. "Hey, Moneybags," Urameshi began, jerking his head toward what had been obscured by distance and other buildings. "Get a load of that."

Hiei nodded. He could see it, of course. He had seen it from the cab. But no ordinary human could. It was a barrier, a force field that covered the entire block.

A network of electric-blue threads, the forcefield resembled an enormous, glowing berry basket placed upside-down.

They ignored the line and cut straight to the entrance. "You realize we're walking straight into a trap," said Hiei.

"So what?" replied Urameshi. "But I wonder if the barrier's for disease containment. You said Kuwabara looked sick."

Hiei narrowed his eyes. "If that's the case, then the city's already been contaminated and this job is beyond our scope."

"We still got a trifecta on our hands. Find the mayor, find Kuwabara, and solve the mystery of the Pavilion. Suppose the mayor's inside, helping contain things?"

"Then why hasn't he phoned his staff?"

Urameshi thought a while. Hiei could see the gears turning. "Military silence? If the Army or the Agency is in on this-"

"Not the Agency. I'd have been informed."

He thought some more. "Maybe phones don't work in there."

"The old lady's family called her for money. Besides, Kuwabara could see the barrier, so why go in there on his own?"

"Whatever it is," Urameshi said cheerfully, "I can stand it if you can. Let's do this, Moneybags."

Idiot. "Don't get used to that name. And do not eat or drink anything in there."

"Yeah, yeah." Urameshi waved a dismissive hand.

A flimsy fence marked the Pavilion's limits. The wall-to-wall crowd suggested a ripe ground for pickpockets, but that would hardly begin to pay for the barrier.

"Won't be easy finding the mayor in there," said Urameshi.

"You even know what the mayor looks like?"

"Well, uhhh..."

"Me either."

"I know what Kuwabara looks like," Urameshi said brightly.

"You sure?"

A revolving door was the only entrance. The cover charge was steep, but not so steep as to cause nosebleeds. Inside, a stench hit them: unwashed bodies, portable bathrooms, rancid frying oil. "Whatever's reeling 'em in," coughed Urameshi, fanning the thick air, "it ain't no flower show."

Hiei was made of stern stuff, but he lost his appetite at once. "Any sane person would take one breath and run."

"Then why's the place packed like a sardine tin?"

A human male with wavy yellow hair and an oily grin bustled up. His black-and-yellow striped jacket made him look like a bumblebee. "Welcome to the Nightwalk Pavilion!" He rubbed his hands together. "Where dreams come true."

"Are you the owner?" asked Urameshi.

"Goodness, no. I'm your host."

Host, my third eye. Hiei knew a bouncer when he saw one. "Suntory, straight up, no chaser."

"Right away, Sir." The Bee scurried off.

Urameshi scowled at Hiei. "Thought you said don't eat or drink anything."

"I know what I'm doing."

"Riiight. If you're practicing to become a lush."

The amber liquid arrived in a clear plastic cup, and cost almost as much as Hiei paid at Place Plendome, the most exclusive eatery in Tokyo. Hiei sniffed, sipped, then spat onto the ground, narrowly missing a man's shoes. "Colored water."

"Well, that's one way to make money."

"But look." Hiei indicated the crowd. People screamed with laughter, swayed, staggered. "Everyone's acting drunk."

Urameshi agreed. "Like how you said Kuwabara was."

Hiei tossed the phony drink aside. "But on what?"

The Pavilion was not only jammed with a crush of people, but also tents and kiosks, cheap and tawdry and probably stolen from elsewhere: Pachinko games like shiny, vertical pinball machines; free-standing Tiki bars; made to be put up fast and taken down faster. Card tables; roulette tables; to which city officials must have turned a blind eye, for apart from horse races, gambling is illegal in Tokyo.

In Las Vegas, where gambling is an industry unto itself, there are no clocks in the casinos. Gamblers lose track of time.

Hiei explained this, shouting to be heard. "But the Pavilion's open to the sky. People should be able to guess how much time's passed."

"So it's like Vegas." Urameshi shrugged. "A city block, stuffed with people and cash siphons. And what if it is? Can't force people to behave." As if to prove it, Urameshi grabbed an empty cup off a Tiki bar, balanced it on his head, and jammed two straws up his snout.

"Hilarious."

In answer, Urameshi stuck out his tongue.

"And with gambling illegal," Hiei continued, through gritted teeth, "someone's looking the other way... like the mayor."

"Great. So we're here to bust a measly gambling ring?"

"There's got to be more to it. Even the Yakuza run their gambling rings in secret."

A place where dreams come true. Yet none of the clientele seemed to be having fun, but rather emitting shrieks of hollow laughter and desperation. Up ahead, on a roulette table, a little girl in a pink dress lay sleeping. Whose kid was she? And what sort of parent would allow this?

Over the discord of numerous bands and DJ booths on top of barkers and pachinko pings that grated on his nerves, Hiei added, "I don't see my dreams coming true here."

"Maybe you ain't lookin' hard enough," Urameshi slurred. He seemed just a little too happy when he pointed to the approximate center of the Pavilion. "Hey, now that's pretty cool."

On a platform about six feet off the ground stood a large pagoda with a red tile roof.

Adding insult to injury, Urameshi began singing.

So glad I'm not like you or that fool Kuwabara. As Urameshi dashed toward the pavilion, Hiei scrambled to catch up.

But a man with a pug nose surged from his seat at the roulette table and clawed at Hiei's sleeve, laughing and weeping at the same time. "Get us out! Get us out!"

Hiei extracted his arm. "Why?"

"Huh?" His hydrangea-blue eyes were bloodshot, but emotions washed across them, as easy to read as words in a book: fear, anger, bewilderment. His face was shiny, like Kuwabara's.

Euphoria, with a side of hysteria. On water.

"My kids," the man babbled. "Where-" Then the dealer called for bets, and like a mechanical toy, the man turned to place his, and Hiei knew that this was the old woman's missing son, and the girl sleeping on the table one of her grandkids.

But he could do nothing about it. Not until he understood what was going on. He caught up with Urameshi fiddling with a Pachinko machine. "Come on," Hiei said. "We have work to do."

Urameshi shook his head. "Can'cha see I'm playin'?"

"We don't have time for this!" Hiei considered whether a backhand to the chops would improve Urameshi's concentration.

Urameshi clenched a fist. "Wanna piece of me, cockroach?"

"Anytime, jackass." Hiei readied his own fists, then stopped, scrubbed at his face. "What the hell are we doing?"

Urameshi called him a bad name. Responding in kind, Hiei stalked off. To Hiei's surprise, Urameshi followed, albeit with much grousing.

As they reached the pagoda, Hiei sensed youki.

The pagoda sat on a raised wooden platform, reminding Hiei somewhat of the Dark Tournament's combat ring. Several Bumblebee bouncers surrounded its base.

A moving track circled the platform floor outside the pagoda like a merry-go-round. But rather than carousel horses, the track bore a single gold throne.

On it sat a sere, angular female nearing sixty. With a black dress that made her yellowish skin look like parchment, she also wore a gold filigree crown resembling antennae. Built along queen-bee lines, she was scrawny from the waist up and bloated from the waist down.

Even with her sharp features and predatory air, she seemed human... until you noticed the abnormally slanting eyes, with their green sclera and gold slits for irises.

"Oho," Hiei said. "It's the Yellowjacket."

Urameshi stared at him. "You KNOW this old bat?"

"By reputation only. She'd tell you she's an honest businesswoman, and I'd have no trouble with that. But the Yakuza would be afraid of her. White slavery, gambling, drugs... those are just some of her rackets."

"Why's a youkai like her in the human world?" Urameshi squeezed his eyes shut, pounded his temples. "Brain hurts from thinking. Need someone good at that. Better find Kuwabara."

"No, wait!"

But Urameshi, bull-headed as always, charged into the crowd.

Jerk. Hiei preferred inspecting the contraption and interrogating Yellowjacket to chasing Urameshi. It shouldn't take long. Leaping onto the platform, Hiei landed on one toe, overbalanced, and flailed his arms in windmill fashion.

Yellowjacket giggled.

Hiei regarded her sourly. A cloying perfume like spoiled honey billowed from her. Around her skinny wrist was a bracelet, fashioned of six beads resembling drops of clear venom.

Bumblebees to either side were fanning her with peacock feathers. She lifted an eyebrow at Hiei.

It was quieter on the platform. Hiei did not need to shout. Keeping pace with the slow movement of the throne, he asked, "Are you one of the attractions?"

She regarded him with amusement. Hiei, too, may have been notorious, but it was doubtful she would 'make' him in his worn leather jacket and jeans. She would, however, sense his youki.

Fondling her bracelet as though it was a pet, she simpered. "Well,now, Duckie." Her voice reminded Hiei of a syrup-dripping dagger. "You're a different one, aren't you?"

"Me? Just a plainclothes cop pounding the beat."

"Why not stop and smell the roses, Officer?"

"They reek of sewage from here."

She yawned. "You cops are all alike: in the way."

"Mayors, too?"

"I think I saw him last at the craps table."

"What sort of racket is this anyway? You can't make enough off watered drinks and loaded dice to run this enormous barrier."

She adjusted her crown. The two Bumblebees around her suddenly were four, looming over Hiei.

"Oh, good. A fight." Hiei lunged for them, almost tripped again, but stopped himself, puzzled, collecting his thoughts and the shreds of his dignity.

"Think you can take me? Go ahead on." Hiei drew himself up, crooked a finger. "I don't bounce so easy."

"Duckie, Duckie!" Yellowjacket's strange eyes flashed. "Why must you assume everything is a threat?"

Hiei shrugged. "That's just how life goes."

The bouncers looked for their queen to give them direction. Itching for a donnybrook, Hiei staggered forward.

It was then that he realized something was terribly wrong.

-30-

(To be concluded: What's keeping everyone in thrall?)