Nanashi
Prologue
By Keo Siph
Yu Yu Hakusho is owned by Togashi Yoshihiro/Sheisha, Fuji TV, Pierrot, and FUNimation.
Fruits Basket is owned by Natsuki Takaya, Hakusensha-TV TOKYO-NAS-Furuba Project, and FUNimation
Name meanings:
Yuki : snow
Kurama : a mountain in Japan
Hiei : a mountain in Japan
Suffixes:
-chan : someone younger or smaller; either lovingly or teasingly
-kun : equal; someone you know but are still rather curteous to
-san : very proper; Mr. or Ms.
-teme : I think this can be used on it's own… a harch curse (wash-out-mouth bad)
"Another demon, then?" My voice rang out, blood already flowing from the corners of my mouth. I wiped it away with the back of my hand. "If that's all, I overestimated you." This was a full-faced lie. Wasn't my whole life that way, though? I couldn't stop that thought as it poured from the back of my consciousness. I was bedecked with pain. My body had already withstood the attack of a horde of twenty Class A demons, each fully rested and eaten. I was neither, and it had begun to tell on me. The last one walked forward, his feet slapping the beaten dirt of the pathways through the park I had so loved traveling upon. He paused, suddenly, and moved slightly to the right, then left, then right again as he edged slightly closer. I took a step back, the scene of the green demon, clad in an even darker green and the only one with any sense of fashion, blurred before my eyes.
"…it will be the ones that aren't powerful. The ones that shiver and cower and draw no attention to themselves that will slip through the barrier, the conniving, plotting ones that know what shadows are darkest."
"You sound worried, Kurama. Travel all that way to visit me, and that's all you can say? Worry for the ones-"
"Look where you came from, Hiei. The darkest of shadows, the lower of the demons. You sit at the right hand of the greatest. Do you think you are alone in rising power?"
My feet skid backwards, the force of the blow upon my whip pressing me back. The ground was slick, and I was not in the best of shape. Too much stress, to say the least. He dashed forward, favoring claws and throwing knives to anything else. My whip dashed in just as he jumped, severing his head at it's base, as I skidded my feet again when the two previously unnoticed daggers seem to dash out of nowhere. One caught me just millimeters from my jugular vein and the one on my wrist. More blood added to that already mingling with the mud. My eyes caught the glint of the tinged red dagger as it fell, just catching the blue undertone of powder along both sides of the blade. Poison. Of all times… more steps. Light, but funny… rubber… human sneakers… on a … martial…art…ist…
"What the… TOHRU! COME QUICK! THERE'S A PROBLEM! SHIGURE! COME ON!"