Written: September 2008-March 2010

I swear, I struggled with this simple story more than I've ever struggled with anything. I started the story over three times and almost made it with the fourth before I decided to trash it. I was happy with this draft until I re-watched the very end of the Chapter Black arc of YYH, and then I realized that I am a total idiot and this story isn't canon. BUT I DON'T CARE ANYMORE. I never want to look at this story again. Originally this was a songfiction to "Miss Murder" by AFI, and although the lyrics have been removed, the influence remains. I dislike the title of this story, but I can't think of anything else to call it except "The Bane of My Existence." Enjoy.

The Spoils of Otohime

"Hiei, I want to ask you a question."

Hiei looked up from sharpening his sword. Mid-morning light illuminated his face and Genkai's porch behind him. He was sitting on the front steps, legs stretched out, with his katana lying lightly on his thighs. Yusuke thought about sitting next to his teammate but didn't; he didn't want to give off the wrong impression, and that was very easy to do where Hiei was involved.

The demon raised one eyebrow, inviting Yusuke to speak. Instead of posing his question, though, Yusuke blurted: "It's about Kurama."

"Then why don't you ask him?" Hiei said dismissively, sheathing his sword with a sharp metallic click. He looked up at Yusuke expectantly, and the detective knew that he had mere seconds before Hiei disappeared; it didn't really matter where. He would be gone, and Yusuke wouldn't get the chance to ask him this pressing question for several days. Possibly weeks.

"Because I really want to know and I don't know who else to ask and I don't think he'll give me a straight answer," Yusuke said in one breath. He sucked air in again through his nose and held his ground, hands in his pockets. He was uncharacteristically nervous, though with the question he had in mind, he had a right to be. Hiei was staring, and didn't respond for a while. When he did, Yusuke was momentarily at ease.

"You're probably right. Kurama rarely gives straight answers. What is it?"

Brushing hair back from his face, Yusuke shifted his feet. Genkai's lawn was springy and green this time of summer, and it was a beautiful day. Perfect for gossiping; he knew that his question was perhaps a bit prying, but he also knew that it was important to him. "Why doesn't Kurama ever go out with girls? He's got hundreds of 'em following him around in school, and most of them are pretty hot. Is he gay, or something?"

Hiei furrowed his brow, but stayed silent for a long time before answering. When he did, Yusuke was thrown completely off-guard. "What did Kurama tell you about the day he escaped to the human world?"

"What?" Yusuke asked, gaping. Hiei stood, hiding his sword in the inter-dimensional pocket that Yusuke could never seem to locate. The demon glared at him, putting his hands in his pockets. Yusuke looked up at the sky, thinking and stroking his chin. "I guess he said that he made a 'careless mistake' and was almost killed by a bounty hunter. Why? What does that have to do with my question?"

"Everything," Hiei said simply. "He lied."

"He—what?" Yusuke asked. He knew that Kurama was capable of lying, of course, but the thought that one of his good friends might have done so to his face was startling.

"If I tell you what really happened, I would be putting Kurama at risk," Hiei said shortly, and his posture more than anything suggested that he wasn't willing to do that to Kurama. "If you told anyone, even the oaf—"

"I won't, I swear," Yusuke said immediately, holding up his right hand. "I'll keep it on the down-low."

Hiei regarded him silently for a minute, and Yusuke knew that his friend was trying to decide whether or not he was lying. He stood passively, waiting. It seemed like half an hour had passed before Hiei exhaled and nodded. "I'm only telling you because I know that Kurama would never tell you the truth, and one day you might need to know," the fire demon said. "You cannot tell Kurama that I told you this."

"Agreed," Yusuke said, realizing that Hiei was taking a large risk. If the histrionic Kurama found out that Hiei had told Yusuke his big clandestine story, their friendship would probably be over. It was unlike Hiei to be willing to shovel out his best friend's secrets, so Yusuke wondered why Hiei would even bother telling him the story. Apparently it was cause for concern to the fire demon.

Hiei sat back down, and Yusuke occupied the space next to him. They looked ahead; they could see the stairs from here, and most of the edge of the forest. Genkai and Yukina were inside the temple, but this part of it was probably deserted. Yusuke didn't think Hiei could have chosen a more secluded spot.

"I only know what little I've gleaned from Kurama, and he isn't willing to tell the full story," Hiei said, making the small disclaimer as he looked into the forest. "His reputation and life would be compromised if the truth was made known. So, he prefers not to dwell upon the night—"

—air, whistling through the trees. His nose picked up the scent of blood not far away, and he moved in that direction. As he ran, he thought about his next heist; a prince of demon world was going to get married, and his bride-to-be was going to wear a gown made entirely of precious jewels and rare cloth. Yoko would no doubt look foolish wearing such a thing, but it would fetch a lovely sum nonetheless.

He avoided the worst of the demons that he came across as he ran; they tended to stay out of his way once they felt his aura heading toward them. He went along a riverside, smelling blood that mingled with the spring water as it ran downstream. He was going uphill, so he was slightly slower than he normally would have been, but it was still only minutes before he came to the source of the blood. He wasn't sure what he expected to find, but looking back on it he realized that almost anything else would have been more likely. He thought he'd find a dying demon, or a dead one, or someone killing something else. Instead, he found a waterfall.

The waterfall was rushing down large granite rocks that were piled against the mountainside. The water was throwing up a spray, and if it had been daytime then, a rainbow would have appeared at its base. As it was, starlight shone on the river that ran from the waterfall, illuminating the scene. Initially, he believed himself alone—but then he smelled the blood even stronger, and he could see a pale shape behind the waterfall. It was moving, difficult to focus on due to the amount of water it was hiding behind. The pale shape was slightly surrounded by a golden-orange, blurrier shape.

He stood rooted on the edge of the river when a face appeared through the waterfall. It was a female demon with dark irises; they looked black from where he stood. Her hair, golden orange and curly, framed her pretty face. Instead of retreating back into the waterfall when she saw him, she emerged, nude and dripping water and not seeming to care at all. He stared, unable to help himself. The source of blood was a cut high upon one of her thighs; it wasn't deep, but it still trickled some red drops. She was examining him with a look of cold appraisal that turned to amusement.

"Do you always stalk around waterfalls hoping to come across a bathing demon?" Her voice was melodic and low for a female's; she had gloriously lush lips. His knees buckled softly, but he remained upright due to the strong physical control that he had developed since puberty.

"Do you always bathe in waterfalls?"

"Only when there are males stalking around, hoping to come across me," she said, and he cracked a smile. As she neared him, swimming through a small pool of water at the base of the fall and then emerging on the other side, he saw that her eyes were not black but blue—deep, navy blue, so dark that in this light they looked ebony. They reminded him of real sapphires.

She left the bank that he stood near and continued forward, examining him. Rivulets of water cascaded down her body as she stepped through the high grass, her feet making small indents in the plants below them. Her skin was pale and clear, and her frame was impressive. Kurama thought—

"—about asking him for her description so that I could find her, but I know that he would refuse," Hiei said, turning away from Yusuke. The sun was rising, scrambling to get directly overhead, and he could hear Genkai playing some video game in a distant part of the temple.

"How did you even find out about this girl, Hiei?" Yusuke asked, looking at his friend. Hiei was silent for a moment, but it didn't bother Yusuke; he was used to Hiei's quiet, and the demon was damn near monologuing.

"He spoke in his sleep," Hiei said, not mentioning that he himself did the same thing and had revealed plenty of his secrets to Kurama in time. "He said her name, and I guessed much of the rest. He would always call out at night, screaming—"

"—Uzume," she said, bowing low, her hair falling down to her knees. "And you are?"

"Yoko Kurama," he said, also bowing—though not quite so low as she had. "The spirit fox."

Whether his title awed her or not she neither said nor showed; she merely smiled, revealing a flash of white and straight teeth (rare for demons) before turning away from him. "Well, Kurama, if you don't mind, I will be finishing my bath, now."

She began to walk away, and he sensed a challenge rising. The swing of her hips and the drip of her hair suggested to him that she was not impressed. He was going to have to remedy that. "Might I join you?"

She turned her head so that he could see the dark blue iris of one eye. "If you wish. I must warn, you, though; I am an intriguing—"

"—mystery," Hiei finished, getting up. He turned away from Yusuke, folding his arms and scanning the trees on the horizon. Birds were the only signs of life that they could see, though Yusuke was sure that the forest was full of dangerous and probably pathetically weak demons, none of which would dare approach them here, let alone listen in on their conversation.

"He fell for her, didn't he?" Yusuke asked, rubbing his chin. "He fell fast and hard."

Hiei nodded; from behind it was hard to tell, but Yusuke saw it. "Yes. It is not unheard of in demon world, though you'd never catch me in that predicament," Hiei said, and Yusuke grinned.

"So, let me guess. She broke his heart, or died, or something, and now he doesn't want a relationship with anyone else?"

Hiei faced Yusuke, narrowing his eyes. "Are you really that foolish?"

"What do you mean?" Yusuke asked, taken aback. "She's not still around, is she?" He looked around as though Uzume might come walking toward them through the trees.

Hiei turned away again, closing his eyes. "I have managed to ask him about the night that he fell," he said, "though he was reluctant to give me any details. I know that he broke into a palace on the—"

—east. He headed away from the setting sun, running in his yoko form; all four silvery paws beat at the ground in long leaps and bounds. He was skipping over high yellow grass and dirt, dodging the larger demons that he came across in the hopes of saving time. His favorite heists always took place at night; under cover of darkness he became a mere shadow that would sneak into any secure home and come out a rich one.

As he ran he smiled in his beastly way, jumping a creek and heading for the snow-capped mountains that lay on the east horizon. Uzume was probably laughing right now; just the memory of her giggles was enough to make him grin. If he knew anything, she'd be laying in piles of gold and jewels in one of his hideouts, awaiting his return. She enjoyed the caress of gold against her skin, and he had plenty to share; he'd shown her one of his hideouts months previously.

"Very nice," she had smiled. "I thought you were spending it all."

"No," he said. "Like a dragon, I prefer to bask in it."

Not long after that, she'd asked for a special present. She wanted a sapphire necklace called the Collar of Crystals. The necklace had been forged by a demon named Otohime, famous for making jewelry that was prized all over the world. The necklace was called his spoils, as he had spent many years on it, and it was infamous for being difficult to keep, as so many thieves were after it. He had seen it before—just once—and knew that if he could obtain it, he could keep it safe for her. With her.

Yoko Kurama would not admit to falling in love, and even if he would he was not sure how he felt. What he knew was that his life as a bandit was lonely, and it got boring (especially when there was nothing to steal.) Uzume was a good companion; beautiful, intelligent, sly, and amusing, she was refreshing. She rather transparently offered up this challenge, but he had taken it anyway.

The mountains loomed, and as the sun fell away he saw the castle in the distance. It was not far, but he had not done enough research to know whether it would be safe for him to run to its base, so he would proceed with caution. Despite the thrill he felt of a new object to steal, he fell into his natural rhythm of cold, calculating focus. This ability to shut down almost all faculties of his brain was the source of his success; it was why he was able to continue for one thousand years before this night—before his fall.

He began to circle, moving slower and staying low in the brush. It ran right up to a circular yard around the castle which was covered in gravel and provided no cover. He stayed a few feet from the edge of the grass, keeping his eyes on the castle. No windows were open, and all were dark. The fading sun gave him just enough light to see the details of the castle; its peaked roofs, its stacks of parallel roofing tiles, and its sliding wooden doors with rice-paper screens.

He decided to check out the perimeter before deciding on an entrance. The castle was at the base of the start of this mountain range, and despite being prime real estate did not have many outdoor furnishings. Fruit trees were planted in the back of it, and on one side a small river, gleaming in the green moonlight, trickled by. Otherwise, the area around was gray gravel. The fox frowned at this, pausing again outside the front of the house. Whether he walked on his fox feet or humanoid feet, it would crunch beneath him. There was one way to get to the castle, though—he could leap from tree to tree behind it and jump from the largest (a citrus tree) to the roof. Steeling himself, wishing he had stretched a bit before coming, he scaled the first tree. It was noisy, but not as telling as footsteps crunching up the walkway. He went in a directly west direction toward the house, and had to use only four trees to cross. Below them, the gravel lay between each row; apparently, whoever lived in this castle (if anyone did) was prepared for intruders. Therefore, he would have to act less like an intruder and more like a guest—a guest who was not invited.

He landed in the last tree and climbed up to its top. With a sharp intake of breath, he measured the jump and made it. He climbed onto the roof, looking around. Though the castle was second-story, it was small, and had only one section of roof other than the front porch. There was a tiny third story with its own peak, which he assumed was the attic. He walked toward it, carefully padding along the rooftop. He was light enough that he probably wouldn't disturb anyone inside, but he thought he should be careful all the same. The attic had a small window set into it—but he was smaller. The window was cracked, and looked old enough to be painted the rest of the way shut. However, a fairly soft nudge with his snout managed to slide the window up slightly, so he continued pushing until it went up all the way. Looking around at the night, he slid into the window.

The attic was dark, cramped, stuffy, and dusty. He had to hold in a sneeze as he crawled through the small, insulated room. Squinting, willing his nocturnal eyes to give him light, he scanned the floor for a hatch. It was not far ahead, since the attic was only twelve square feet. He pulled a brass ring from the floor by his teeth and a long, slender ladder fell to the floor of the next story. He waited, listening, for anyone to come check on it—the ladder had made a loud noise upon impact. When no one came, he jumped down it, staying in his spirit fox form. Despite the attention he garnered in his other form, he preferred to appear as a fox at most times. Foxes went mostly unnoticed—even the bright silver ones.

He landed on hardwood flooring and looked around. He was in a hallway; white walls surrounded him on both sides. At the end of the hall there was a staircase heading down, and three doors. He scanned the ceiling and floor as well as the walls for anything suspicious, but they were blank. He perked up his ears, listening for movement inside the house. Nothing. He searched the vicinity for the aura of any other being, with no results, although that did little to comfort him as any demon worth his salt could mask his aura. Finally, he sniffed the air. The house smelled empty; rather, it smelled of collecting dust and had no other discernible smells to tip him off to the residents. When he was certain that he was alone in the house, he stood on his two humanoid feet. While he liked to take the form of a yoko, his taller side would be better suited for opening doors and messing with whatever locks or codes he would need to break to find the necklace.

He went to the stairs and looked at them; they were wooden, old, nondescript. Turning, he saw two doors on his right and one on his left. The first door on his right was open, and it led to a bathroom. The next door on his right was locked. The door on his left was open, and it was this room he entered with the notion that he was finally settling into a real challenge.

The necklace he had been challenged to obtain was something of a legend, not because it was beautiful (as it was) but because no one had ever managed to hold onto it for very long. Part of the reason that this was had to do with the fact that the necklace was an ego boost for any thief, and would likely hold a place of honor in his home. Kurama knew this, and he also knew that things one didn't want stolen were better locked up in impenetrable vaults.

Unfortunately, an impenetrable vault is just that—impenetrable to anyone who wishes to enter, including the person owning the vault. So while it is much safer to hide one's valuables in a thick iron safe under two hundred feet of water infested with hungry sharks all hidden in the base of a large invisible fortress, it is impractical because one cannot gloat over whatever valuables one has hidden away. Therefore, Kurama knew, most treasures allowed for people—albeit special, brilliant people—to have some access to them. And anywhere someone else could access, he could access. With this knowledge in mind, Kurama entered the room on his left and took a good look around, certain that a way to the necklace was hidden somewhere within.

The room was best described as a dump. Items of varying worth and decay were strewn about, stacked on top of each other, and spread all over the room. There was clothing, false jewelry, electronics that had most likely come from the human world, old food stuffs, weaponry, and other junk that demons might have hidden in their houses. Nothing caught his eye but a short poem painted on the ceiling. It read:

Up is down
Left is right
What you seek
Is in plain sight.

From the bottom line of the poem two arrows extended along the ceiling, pointing at two doors on the right side of the room. Kurama walked over to them, clearing a path in all the crap that the room contained. The two doors were identical; both had copper handles that, when tested, held tight. Each had a small round hole for a key.

He turned, looking around the room. The poem referred to the key, in all likelihood, so the key was probably "in plain sight." The problem, however, was that everything was in plain sight—and everything was in this room. However, it occurred to him that the owner of the palace and necklace would need a way to hide the key without putting it somewhere that could be easily disturbed, in case someone came who decided to tear the room apart looking for the key.

So, it was in a place that was somewhat secure. He scoured the walls and ceiling with his eyes, looking for a permanent fixture where a key could rest. There was nothing. He would have checked the floor, but it was so covered with junk that he didn't much see the point. He began to work his way around the room, starting in the northwest corner and moving clockwise. He knew that he had little time, so he moved quickly and confidently.

It was toward the southwest corner of the room that he saw a large bust. The bust was made of chiseled stone, most likely marble. He passed by it, knowing that if it were to break apart the key would be revealed easily. Just as he walked away from the bust, he realized that it was likely solid rather than hollow. It had looked chiseled by a poorish hand, so it had probably been carved from a larger stone. Meaning that it was solid. Why this was so important it did not occur to him until he turned around and faced the bust again.

It was the face of some old man, wrinkled and folded in stone. The bust was not well-crafted, and looked less impressive when he saw that it was wearing a sombrero and was sitting atop a giant foam banana. He would have missed it in all the junk (despite his careful way) except for its eyes. The eyes were made of glass that had been colored blue. With this addition the bust was quite ugly; he noticed that the left eye was flawed with some darker color.

It dawned on him that no one who regularly worshipped his treasures would have hidden the key where it could not be hidden again. Whether the bust was hollow or not, the owner of the palace would not have put the key inside the middle because then he would have to change his hiding place when he wanted to replace the key. Yoko Kurama tapped his chin, thinking in plain sight. It can't be that simple?

But as he stared at the bust, he knew it was. With a long claw he popped the left glass ball out of the statue's eye socket. Behind the perfect orb was a small copper key. He pulled that out by his nail and then replaced the glass, giving the bust a playful pat on its stone cheek as he headed to the two doors.

He looked between them, thinking. Presumably there was only one way forward, and he'd need to decipher which was the right door. He knew that most people followed their dominant hands, and by the placement of the key the person who owned the necklace was probably left-handed. He also knew that the person who owned the necklace probably knew this and might have gone to lengths to hide it. He could have chosen the right door because most people are right handed, or chosen the left because he was. He could have chosen the right because he was trying to throw the thief off, or he could have chosen the left door to throw the thief even further off course. There were one million reasons why either door would be the correct one, and none of them possible to prove. Because of this, Kurama let chance decide by dropping the key and seeing which door it pointed to.

The key pointed right. He bent, picked it up—the metal was cool in his hand—and went to the door on his right. The key slid easily into the latch and clicked; he swung the door open, retrieving the key from it as soon as he had done so. Then, he looked ahead. The door had opened into small hall that was unremarkable in every way save one: there were no doors beyond it. The hall lacked doors and windows. It was a dead end.

Kurama rolled his eyes, went to the door on his left, and tried that one. The lock caught, and he pushed this door open as well, removing the key from it as he did so. This hall was identical to the first one, and it too was a dead end.

Clever, Kurama thought, going back to the busy room in which he'd found the key. Now what?

It didn't take him long to see what options he had left. The key fit both doors in this room—but neither door went forward. Undoubtedly a bolder thief would have tried smashing down one of the walls at the end of the doors, and would have alerted the inhabitants to his presence. Kurama knew that he had another option, and took it.

He left the messy room and went back into the hall. He ignored the door to the bathroom and instead went to the only other door in the hall—the previously locked one. He put the key in the lock and twisted it. To his satisfaction, the key opened the door, and he stepped inside. This was a bedroom, by the looks of it; a bed mat was rolled out in the corner of the room, under the window. There was a dresser on the north side of the room, and a closet near the door. The room lacked any sort of character; it seemed more like a spare bedroom than an oft-used one. The bed had an old, dusty look about it, and the air was stuffy. He slid the key into his pocket and searched the room more carefully.

The dresser held some clothes, though they were unisex and of various sizes, so it was hard to tell who owned them. The closet was empty, and he noticed nothing unusual about it. There was nothing under the bed, and none of the floorboards were loose. After around half an hour of looking, he surmised that there was nothing inconspicuous about this room at all, except that it had been locked, and they key had been the one he'd found on his way to a treasure room. So, it was probably important.

He leaned against one wall, closing his eyes. What options were left? He thought back to the poem. Yes, it had helped him find the key, but it had also hinted at the mystery of the two doors in that room, hadn't it? Left is right. So, perhaps that poem applied to the entire house in general rather than just the one room. He recalled the rest of it with silent clarity. Up is down, the first line. Vague, or was it just as meaningful as the rest?

He was on the second floor, which was "up" to the first floor, but "down" to him. And hadn't he noticed that the rooftop was peaked rather high for two stories? Kurama looked at the ceiling, searching. He saw no cracks, hinges, or anything else. Quietly, he went to the closet. He hadn't looked all that carefully before, but he did now. And there it was—at the top of the closet, a tiny string dangling from what looked like a solid piece of ceiling. Reaching, glad for his tall stature, he grasped the string and pulled. A large section of the closet's ceiling fell forward, making a sort of makeshift ramp. Kurama transformed, seeing that the crawlspace was too small for his humanoid body, and scrambled up into it.

It was much smaller than the attic; it had to be, to remain hidden and inconspicuous. It was hotter, as well, and he began to pant, something he hated. It smelled of dust and deceased rodents; at least they were deceased. He was heading in a diagonal direction, to the northwest, so he was going past the two dead ends.

At the end of the dark shaft there was another ramp; he stepped on this one to make it fall, and slid down into a room that was positively crammed wall to wall with treasure. He transformed into his humanoid form and felt his heart speed up as he looked; mountains of gold and silver coins from every city; every country; every world. Many were human, and he saw paper currency, as well, but the gold was what he focused on. Even as he looked, he recognized large jewels among the piles of gold; some were cut—rubies, emeralds, diamonds—and many were uncut but just as beautiful. There were items fashioned from gold, silver, copper, and iron.

Though he was impressed by this hold, he realized that the necklace was not here. It was made merely of sapphires and silver, but it was a prized treasure—different and unique. It wouldn't be tossed in with coins and armor. It would hold a place of honor in the house. Undoubtedly this room was a secondary treasure hold, where a thief could get distracted (and probably caught.) The necklace was not here.

He paused, working out the schematics of the upper stair in his mind. This room ran quite long, unlike the bedroom, and it was farther north than the bedroom. So, despite the fact that he'd entered all the doors in this story, he still had one room left to find. This room had no doors or windows, and no closet, either. However, he was quite sure that the real treasure room would be accessible from here. He moved along the walls until he saw it—a familiar-looking piece of white string hanging down from the eastern part of the ceiling. He had to step on a pile of gold to reach it, and pulled it as hard as he could. He was beginning to feel on-edge, now; surely he was not the first to have navigated these puzzles? For some reason he was sure that someone else had gotten here first and beat him to the punch.

The ramp fell down again, and he transformed again. Hopefully he could remain in this form for the remainder of the night; transforming too much in a short amount of time was physically exhausting. He scrambled up this ramp and headed directly east. This tunnel (though dark) was thankfully shorter than the last, and he landed in a large, plain room. It was dark, and there were no decorations. The only thing occupying the room was a small chest in the center. He went to it, saw that it was an ordinary code lock, and internally frowned. It was far too easy. The riddle read:

Read my riddle, I pray.
What Gods never see,
What the emperor seldom sees,
And what we see every day.

Kurama tapped his paws on the top of the chest. He knew the answer to the riddle, of course, and was trying to figure out how to enter it. The lock was a metal mechanism, and he saw that hitting keys of characters to spell out what he was thinking would unlock the tumbler. Pressing each key with his snout, he typed in:

An equal.

The lock fell open. The chest lid slowly creaked up, and he pushed it open with both paws. The necklace lay on a velvet pillow. He reached forward to take it with his jaws, and paused before he could touch it. He smelled something familiar coming from his right.

Uzume stepped out of the shadows. She looked beautiful even there, and he thought for a second (perhaps too long) that she had challenged him to this just so that she could prove that she was smarter than he was—that she could solve the puzzles faster. Then he saw the expression on her face, and he understood that in these last few months he had been a bigger fool than he would ever know.

"Brilliant as always, Kurama. You've reached the Collar of Crystals, as I knew you would. Did you see my treasure room on your way in? Lovely, isn't it? It's what I've garnered throughout my years as a bounty hunter."

Before she could continue, he turned and ran for the ramp into the ceiling of her house, his heart pounding loudly in his chest and his eyes going wide. He could deal with the shock and the shame of this later; for now, he needed to escape. He didn't know how powerful Uzume was, but she was probably strong enough to seriously injure him, at the least.

He dove into the crawlspace, and she followed. A blast of bright energy enveloped him from behind, and he felt his body break. Terrified, screaming in agony and making no noise, he severed himself from his body, leaving its warmth for the cold of spirit-space. He fled, leaving Uzume behind with his corpse. He ran away, bursting into the human world as nothing more than a weak spirit. He spiraled down to earth, searching desperately. From a nearby home emerged a woman, beautiful and young, her belly slightly expanded. He dove. He dove just fast enough; he dove with the devil nipping at his heels.

"Whoa. No wonder Kurama doesn't date," Yusuke said, popping his knuckles.

Hiei looked at him for a moment and then glanced away. "Kurama is very careful whom he puts his trust in. Especially when it concerns females."

Yusuke nodded, standing. "And I can see why he doesn't want to talk about it." He turned to go, feeling that his question had been answered. Then he realized that one still remained. "Hiei?" Hiei glared at him, letting him know that he had overstayed his welcome. Yusuke pressed on anyway. "What happens if he ever meets her again?"

Hiei smirked. "The worse for her, the better for him."

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