Title: Firebird Sweet: Prelude
Author: JaganshiKenshin
Genre: Action/Adventure, Humor, and Beyond
Rating: T
Summary: Katana---gone. Jagan---gone. Dragon---gone.
Allies---gone. Can Hiei face his greatest challenge on guts
alone?
Disclaimer: Kenshin does not own the YYH characters (they are
the property of Togashi Yoshihiro et al), and does not make any
money from said characters. Don't sue.
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.
The events in Firebird Sweet take place directly following the
end of Idiot Beloved.
This novel deals with adult themes, notably the R-word
(Responsibility), the D-word (Duty), and lastly, the S-word
(Sacrifice).
Rated for language, fight scenes, and sexual situations.
Firebird Sweet: Prelude
by
Kenshin
Tension cramping his chest muscles, Hiei scanned the night for
signs of danger.
Born to battle, he could not escape his fate, and there was
always a new enemy. He stood in the middle of a long, broad
promenade that was carpeted in snow, defined to either side by
shells of abandoned wood-frame buildings backed by jagged spires of ice.
Devoid of life. His breath caught, then released in a solitary
puff of steam that drifted toward the heavens. Snow sparkled in
the indigo light, sifting around his shoulders, settling in his
hair.
It wasn't possible. He couldn't be here again. Not after so
many years. But it looked like the realm of the Kourime.
The land of his birth. The land where he had been cast down to
his death.
The Kourime elder had forced Rui, his mother's friend, to toss
him overboard like a sack of potatoes.
As if he needed a reminder, the wind backhanded him.
He had better start moving. The muffled squick of his boots on
snow was nearly swallowed by the wind's snarl.
He must avoid straying too close to either side of the street,
for the houses could provide cover for enemy attacks. Glancing
right and left, he let his gaze un-focus slightly, the better to
pick up any unwarranted movement. Nothing.
The snow began in earnest. Little pings of bitter cold struck
his face, then whirled and eddied in the malevolent wind. Snow
coalesced into dancing escorts that mocked him like ghosts
hellbent on a haunting.
The snow, bad enough on its own, was now laced with thick clouds.
An enemy could stalk him, using this visual miasma as cover, but
another glance assured him that the broad glitter of the
promenade was empty. Not a trace of ki could he detect, nor any
sign of life in his deserted homeland. He was alone.
No---not quite.
There was no warning flare of spirit energy, no scent of an
enemy, but suddenly, Hiei had company.
Emerging through a thick white curtain of cloud and snow, a
stranger approached, then stopped a few yards away.
Shocked, Hiei snapped into focus. For one, this was another male
in a realm where men were strictly forbidden. An intruder like
himself, an abomination, unwelcome.
For another, the stranger radiated no ki to speak of, and had
come upon him in utter stealth. About him was a chilling hint of
limitless power that Hiei was unable to pin down.
Nothing made sense.
Hiei groped behind him for the comfort of his katana, but it was
no longer in its familiar place.
Damn.
Flinging off his mantle, he reached along his arm to strip the
gauntlet warding his Dragon.
No gauntlet, no Dragon.
Double damn.
He lifted the headband that sealed his Jagan, only to meet smooth
forehead.
"So," he said to the stranger. "On my own strength alone."
Sliding into a balanced stance so he could launch an attack from
any angle, Hiei waited for the stranger to make a move.
But the stranger did nothing. Hiei seized the moment's
opportunity to study him.
He wore his long black hair loose, streaming behind him like a
banner in the wind. He was tall---perhaps as tall as Youko
Kurama, with that same look of whippy strength.
Who was he? Some champion of the Ice Maidens, come to slay the
Abomination?
But no---for that, they would employ a female.
The stranger's calm turquoise eyes, set far apart in the pale
oval of his face, regarded Hiei with neither passion nor
prejudice. And almost hidden by the mantle of snow and wealth of
hair, something---perhaps a weapon, perhaps a power signature---
flicked in and out of view.
The stranger spoke. "I'm sorry." The voice was deep, cultured,
fluting. "You have to go back."
"Back? Back where?" A cloud insinuated itself between Hiei and
the stranger, obscuring his view. Batting the cloud aside, Hiei
demanded: "Who are you?"
"I wish I could touch you." The hand the stranger extended to
Hiei was long and slender and beautifully-formed, the skin
slightly pearlescent.
The color of the stranger's hair. The timbre of his voice.
Could it be?
I have wondered, Hiei thought, wondered my entire life. Lips
parting in a mix of fear and anticipation, Hiei spoke the word.
"Father?"
The stranger's outline blurred, whether by cloud or snow or
artifice he could not tell. They stood too far apart. Hiei
tried to move forward, but the snow was LOOKING at him now, as if
channeling the dead Ice Maidens, hating his intrusion.
Their hatred and revulsion built. Snow rearranged itself into
tentacles, wrapping around his legs, binding him so he could
neither flee nor attack.
The stranger reached for him. The hand Hiei extended in return
almost brushed the stranger's outstretched fingers.
Just a little closer. Hiei strained forward, the crackle of
sinew loud in his ears. He would have his answer at last---
---the pulsing roar of mechanical rotors came from high above.
Hiei jerked his head skyward. A morning glory of flame bloomed
at the apex of the sky, then slammed down on him. The tentacles
of snow held him fast. He could not run, could not launch an
attack---
---but like a kick to the gut, Hiei was propelled backward,
skating first over snow, then down, falling, falling, falling.
For the second time in his life, hurled off the lip of the
floating world, stars wheeling away at an alarming rate.
The stranger stood at the edge of that world like a statue, hand
stretched.
As Hiei fell, the horror of a perfect memory taunted him.
Unsavory images rose: an infant, wrapped in wards and sutras,
helpless and furious, cast away.
"It was you!" he snarled to the stranger. "You!"
For an instant, a thick cloud slowed his fall. Then there was
nothing between Hiei and the ground.
Unable to stop himself, unable to find his balance, spinning
toward the inevitable, arms and legs scrabbling for purchase
among fleeting, taunting clouds, the only sound the whistle of
his plummet toward unyielding earth.
Then, another sound: a metallic announcement, the rasp of a
voice filtered through speakers:
"Code Blue! Code Blue!"
Code Blue. How hospital personnel call for assistance, whether
hope of resurrection remains, or death has snatched away the soul
forever.
Hiei landed with a gasp. There was no sense of impact.
He shot bolt-upright, a hand pressed to his thundering heart,
disoriented, his gaze casting wildly about. Where---?
He was safe. Safe in bed, gazing down at his sleeping firebird.
Sometimes, Hiei still dreamed of falling. Again and again, cast
off the lip of the glacial world. Burning. Willing himself to
survive, to take revenge upon the Kourime. But the
stranger---that was a new element.
Bad dreams denoted weakness. Hiei despised weakness.
"Shay-san," he breathed.
"Five minutes," she murmured automatically. But she was still
asleep.
They were not in Genkai's temple tonight, but in the spare room
of the Kuwabara home. They had defeated White Sands Serpent,
earning themselves a moment or two of peace.
Hiei sat until his heartbeat slowed to normal and the room
resolved itself into a tapestry of sound and shadow: the tick of
the clock on the dresser, the softer tick of his firebird's
breathing, her mounded form on the bed, dark against dark.
He didn't want to wake her. They had a job to do the next day,
and in her condition, she needed all the rest she could get.
His firebird.
Not a demon, nor a fighter, nothing more than a human female with
an innate ability not uncommon to both species, which was quite
possibly related to her smart mouth.
Now, she curled facing him, eyes tight shut, fire-colored hair in
splendid disarray. One thumb was almost tucked into the rounded,
half-open mouth. Her scent, faint with the tang of salt and
almonds and melon, was a familiar balm.
Cuddled deep in her arms was the Hello Kitty Toy he had given
her.
In spite of himself, Hiei smiled. Tenshi, he thought fondly: an
angel; she looks like an angel. He drew in a deep, calming
breath, then let it out.
In an eyeblink, his world changed.
Of all the dreadful sights Hiei had seen in Makai, in the Dark
Tournament, in receiving and inflicting pain, this was the worst.
He saw Shay-san, but in a different time, a different place. A
portent, a nightmare, he could not tell which, but rather than
lying safely in bed, his firebird lay broken on the pavement,
blood streaming from her nose and mouth, her eyes open but
unseeing.
"Code Blue. Code Blue."
He broke into a cold, prickling sweat. Panic closed off his
throat.
No! The Serpent was destroyed! She was all right now. The
doctors had said so.
In a flash, he was out of bed, flicking on the lamp. She rolled
over, murmuring protest. And Hiei saw her again, but this time,
bathed by light: soft and pink in sleep, whole, unbroken.
Breathing. The steady rise and fall of blankets reassured him as
nothing else could.
No blood. No danger. No death.
He had been mistaken. This horrifying vision was merely part of
the same bad dream.
Calling himself every kind of fool, Hiei turned off the light.
Quietly as a falling snowflake, he lay back down. Within minutes
he was asleep, his rest no longer haunted by dreams.
-30-
(Next: Why is Hiei flinging dishes at Kurama?)