Disclaimer: Kenshin does not own the Yuu Yuu Hakusho characters (they are the property of Togashi Yoshihiro et al), and makes no 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.
Idiot Beloved takes place shortly after the Dark Tournament; Firebird Sweet directly follows.
Title: Walking To Siberia
Author: JaganshiKenshin
Genre: General
Rating: K+/PG-13
Summary: Why is Hiei on a tiger to "Siberia?"
A/N: As always, thanks for your reviews and faves.
"Come to the summit if you want her back alive!"
Walking to Siberia
by
JaganshiKenshin
'He who rides the tiger cannot easily dismount.'
Said someone or other, somewhere. Hiei realized this was true; the great beast's powerful shoulders shifted beneath his clutching knees with each step. To dismount before they reached the summit could prove fatal.
Shafts of light pierced the dense forest, igniting the tiger's fur to gold. A Siberian with flaring ruff, the beast dwarfed the narrow trail. On either side loomed pine, fir, larch, and spruce, heavy with resin, glistening with dew.
"Are we there yet?" The tiger spoke in a semi-comical whine. For a wild creature just given his freedom, the tiger seemed lazy and ungrateful.
"No." A pine branch smacked Hiei's face. "Siberia's at the top of this hill."
Except that this was Montana, and the hill was a mountain.
Hiei was compact, tough, a born fighter with bristling black hair decorated by a white halo, and, though he could pass for human easily enough, he was not. He was a youkai, with powers some might see as magic.
'With great freedom comes great responsibility.' Who had said that one? On this particular day, Hiei had more responsibility than he wanted, and if he let himself dwell on what had brought him here-
This was different from riding a horse, closer to the ground, the back long and dangerously flexible. Horses might stomp, bite, and toss you, but they weren't equipped with fangs like butcher knives and claws like grappling hooks.
It all started with that miserable crow.
Which was actually a jaki-one of those small youkai that often act as messengers. It had startled Hiei as he strolled the grounds of the Kidd's California estate. This jaki very much resembled a crow, if you ignored the three yellow eyes lined up in a row above its blood-red beak.
Alighting on a branch just beyond Hiei's reach, the creature delivered an imperative: "We have your Firebird. If you want to see her alive again, come to the summit riding a tiger."
A worm of fear twisted Hiei's gut.
The jaki named a location, then flew off screeching before Hiei could capture it.
Shayla Kidd. Glimmering gray eyes, flame-colored hair (and temper to match), a gamine beauty, Hiei's Firebird was far from helpless. She was a Spellcaster who, at full power, could kill with a handful of words. And she was also a crack shot with her .32 Beretta. But-
-she's only female, only human!
The tiger ambled on, griping.
The moment the jaki had gone, Hiei had leapt into action. A satellite map showed there was indeed a compound with animals, in the southwest corner of Montana, that part of the state resembling a face in profile.
The compound might have been home to one of those idiots who collected dangerous creatures as a sort of hobby. No matter. The view revealed cages, one of which contained what Hiei needed.
Dressed in black jeans and a black sweatshirt loose enough to conceal his sword, Hiei raced to a small private airport. Montana was a short plane ride away.
The compound itself was situated in dense forest, a little distance from a paved secondary road. Arriving just before dawn, Hiei had pulled his rental car off the road, concealing it among the undergrowth.
Guided by the raw animal scent, Hiei reached the compound in minutes-a clearing the size of half a football field in the foreboding gloom, strewn with pine needles. Half the clearing was dotted with sturdy animal cages.
Set a little distance back from the cages was the house, a low, rambling structure of logs fronted by granite. It looked like a long-abandoned summer camp. Circling the entire compound was a six-foot chain link fence.
Balanced against Hiei's terrible need for haste was his need for stealth. Shay-san, Hiei thought, hold on! The tiger was visible as a darker heap on dark ground.
Beyond the chain-link fence was a winding a path through the woods that continued up the south-facing side of the mountain.
Though Hiei's flames could easily melt through one of the fence panels, animals feared fire. For in addition to his compact, fighter's frame, Hiei could summon fire from his hands as easily as a gardener could shoot water through a hose.
Selecting the panel closest to the path, Hiei quickly melted it away, then hurried to open the tiger's cage.
But the tiger seemed confused, reluctant, shredding Hiei's patience until, driven to desperation, he had given it a single jolt from his implanted third eye, the Jagan.
The Jagan, violet where his own, natural eyes were a garnet red, gave Hiei certain additional powers, not the least of which was psychic control. That jolt had commanded the tiger's attention and respect.
Hiei then promised to return it to Siberia.
Properly cowed, the beast had allowed Hiei to climb onto its back and guide it through the melted panel.
And now, trudging the path like a sulky human child, the tiger said, "How will we get to Siberia? With your magic?"
Hiei urged the tiger forward. "Magic?"
"You opened my cage," it said warily. "Only the High Ones can do that."
Opening the cage had involved no magic, just ordinary lockpicking. But as long as the tiger feared him, even a little, advantage Hiei.
The tiger grew increasingly cranky. Hiei's sword, knocking at his back, bothered them both. Ride the tiger: danger and opportunity both. Would he find Shayla Kidd in time?
His fear for her kept him from exploding full speed to the mountaintop and destroying her kidnaper; his need to control the tiger kept him from indulging his fantasies of revenge.
The tiger slowed again. "I will go back. The High Ones at least fed and watered me."
"Sure. It's the perfect life-for a poodle."
"What's a poodle?"
"Never mind."
The beast made a petulant, chuffing sound. "Maybe there is no Siberia."
"It's at the top. Do you have a name?"
"No."
"I'll have to call you something. Sha. You should be able to remember that." The word, meaning Foe, Healing, Danger, or Against, depending what language you used, was part of a mantra to drive off evil, and also invoked a sense of horses, of bearing a burden. Was the tiger foe or ally? 'Horse?' Or fellow pawn in a sinister game with Shayla Kidd's life at stake?
Because of course she wasn't the target. Hiei was.
The compound could prove as innocent as the home of wealthy people who valued their privacy. But why the dangerous animals?
For 'protection?' Hiei knew escaped wild animals had become a nuisance in other parts of the country. If a breeding pair of tigers got loose in these American mountains-
"The other one died," said Sha, startling Hiei. Could Sha read his thoughts? "The one in the other cage," he continued. "We talked sometimes. She told me of Siberia."
"Do many of the animals die?"
"Some," replied the tiger unhelpfully.
Wild speculations filled Hiei's mind: an Island of Dr. Moreau with obscene experiments, turning animals into grotesque parodies of people, or vice versa? Exotic compounds extracted from animal glands, sold to spoiled women seeking eternal youth? Bizarre rituals of animal sacrifice?
Still they climbed the narrow, upward-twisting path, even as Hiei tried to wrestle his thoughts into a semblence of order.
Normally, he could use his Jagan as a psychic link to determine whether Shay-san was all right. He had tried earlier, with no results. Perhaps the blast he had given Sha had burnt him out.
The path grew steeper, narrower, zig-zagging crazily. Step by step, the soft dirt and pine needles of the track gave way to increasingly rocky, hard-packed soil. The trees grew sparse, the air cool, thin. Travel over the rock-strewn ground proved difficult. Sha dawdled, raised his head, sniffing. "Water." He spoke in that semi-comic whine.
Hiei had smelled water, too: about 40 yards to their right. A faint liquid sound blended into the rising breeze: a stream of sorts, threading down from the peak of the mountain.
"And something different from water but not different," continued Sha. "I am thirsty. I will go to the water."
"Not until we reach Siberia. If you stray from the path, you'll die." Untrue, but if Hiei lost control, any number of unpleasant things would happen, not the least of which was being forced to destroy Sha. He had grown fond of the beast.
Sha whined. "I will die of thirst anyway."
Spoiled brat. "Not likely." Whatever their motives, the animal hoarders kept their beasts in good trim. "You could hold out for days."
"I will not go on," replied Sha, stopping dead.
"Don't you realize anything worth attaining is worth a bit of..." A bit of what? Suffering? Endurance? "... effort?"
"I do not understand. And I will not move."
"The water knows you're not in Siberia. It'll poison you."
"No. Water is here. I will not climb further."
"You'll move, all right." Hiei was not keen on starting a wildfire but-a few yards in front of them in the hard-packed earth was a brown, triangular rock, about two feet high. "Remember the opening in the fence?"
Sha grumbled. "I do not remember. I do not care."
"Ever wondered how it got there?"
"No."
Uncurious slug of a beast. "I did it. With my magic." Extending his hand shoulder-high, aiming for the rock, Hiei loosed a small jet of flame from his fingertips. The flame, blue in color, hovered at the tip of the rock for a few moments, as if lighting a misshapen art candle.
Sha squealed, quailing back.
"I can just as easily do the same to you. Get going."
Whining in an undertone, Sha moved on, casting a frightened look at the now-flameless rock as they squeezed past.
Hiei's back ached from keeping upright on the tiger; his thighs ached from gripping the beast's flanks. Worry about Shay-san gnawed him. And waiting at the summit?-
A rival animal hoarder? But why, when one could have stolen Sha himself? The theft had seemed far too easy.
The air grew cooler still. Frost took the place of dew. Were they near the summit? It was difficult to tell, with the towering trees, and the path now almost vertical.
Why would any foe of Hiei's, old or new, want to bring a tiger into the mix? He could understand abducting Shayla Kidd. But a tiger? Some freak, looking to stage a battle between Hiei and Sha for fun?
Though Hiei was reluctant to tangle with Sha, he had defeated dozens more dangerous monsters.
Then-at a switchback in the path-Hiei sensed youki. Hold on, Shay-san! We're coming!
Sha cried out, "Siberia!" He sprang forward, the great hindquarters driving like jackhammers, front claws scrabbling. The hard dirt path twisted and turned, now almost vertical, the tiger's shoulders bunching with effort. The air cold and thin, Hiei fought to stay on board.
Sha slowed only when they reached a steep, jagged slope, almost a staircase.
The tiger paused, raised his head, sniffed the air.
"Siberia!" Sha roared, springing up the broad staircase so quickly that Hiei grabbed the beast's ruff to steady himself.
And all at once, they were at the summit, with a keen wind blowing and the scent of snow.
They found themselves in a sort of natural ampitheater about 100 feet in diameter, formed by a semicircular crop of jagged gray slabs. Snow laced their topmost peaks.
The ground was scattered with rocks and boulders, with scrubby alpine growth straggling here and there. A wooden frame house was situated far to the left, half-hidden by a gray boulder the size of a toolshed.
To the right lay a glint of water. Sha bolted toward it: a shallow pool some 10 by 12 feet, with a stream trickling off toward the right to tumble down a split in the rock. Crouching among thick weeds bordering the pool, the tiger drank. Hiei dismounted, stiff and sore, a dry ache in his throat and lungs.
Where was Shay-san? Not daring to call out, Hiei glanced around the summit.
Situated roughly at its center, almost hidden by a stand of stunted trees, stood a raised pavilion of white marble, Greek-fashion, with a stone bench covered in red velvet cushions.
The bench was not empty. Upon it was the source of youki.
Clad in flowing white garments, lounging with all the arrogant ease of a godling-
After the initial sense of shock, Hiei thought, Of course, why not? Why not suspect everyone from the Dark Tournament who isn't dead yet?
Suzuki looked much the same as he had all those years ago at the Dark Tournament: blonde hair like a shock of wheat, blue eyes, regular, perhaps even attractive features that could, like Hiei's, pass for human.
Lolling back in a position of extravagant ease, Suzuki was draped in a gauzy white toga, gold sandals strapped all the way up to his knees.
Beautiful Suzuki. Damned if I'll call him that.
Hiei demanded, "What the hell are you doing here?"
Suzuki waved a languid hand. "Is that any way to greet an old friend?"
Hiei spat on the ground.
Suzuki gripped the bench until his hands were as white as the marble. "You will address me as Beautiful Suzuki."
"Naturally." Hiei sneered. "With all this red velvet."
"And you're in no position to comment on taste."
Hiei scowled, feeling the pine needles in his hair, his torn clothing. "Where is she?"
"Where's who?" Suzuki stifled a laugh.
Hiei fingered the handguard of his sword. "You're aware of my speed, I think? I can kill you before-"
"Before what? Weren't you worried about someone?..."
Careful! "Then how about a dose of flames?"
"Even your fire needs oxygen to burn, and up here..." Suzuki shrugged. "Haven't you noticed the thin air?"
Easy, easy. You need her back in one piece.
Enjoying Hiei's discomfort, Suzuki snapped his fingers. "You may approach."
Inching forward, Hiei thought, Remember, this man was beaten to a pulp by tiny, elderly Genkai-with her bare knuckles.
Suzuki had always been better at concocting weaponry than fighting, had given Kurama that weird fruit that allowed him to turn back into Youko Kurama, handed Kuwabara a sword he had then used to defeat Elder Toguro.
Concocting items from exotic-
Tigers. Tiger parts as medicine. So that's why he wants Sha! "I won't let you have him either!"
"Have who?"
"He won't listen to you. He barely listens to me-"
"You talk to it?" Suzuki gaped in astonishment. "The tiger?"
"Suppose we find out?" Hiei jerked his head at Sha, crouched on the far side of the pool. "Bet he's starved after all that mountain-climbing."
Suzuki smirked. "Oh, there's no need for that."
Then, Hiei heard it: a sharp crack that was not a gunshot. The wind changed direction. He smelled blood, saw the tiger gnawing at a fresh haunch of meat.
Suzuki threw back his head and laughed.
"Shay-san!" Hiei felt a sick swoop of shock.
The sound of cracking bone, Suzuki's laughter. Blood. Her blood. Sha glanced up, licking his lips, muzzle tinted red. A tiger's only a tiger, but once he's tasted human flesh, he must be destroyed. His attention shifted to Suzuki.
You bastard! Lightning-quick, heedless of thin air, Hiei unshipped his sword, swung it back in a great arc, leapt forward, spanning the distance between himself and Suzuki in a blink. "You filthy-!" Sword at the enemy's throat, Suzuki's eyes wide in shock-
"Hiei!"
Her voice. Shayla Kidd was alive!
He spun toward the sound. She ran out at him from behind the boulder. He was at her side in an instant, Suzuki forgotten.
Dizzy with relief, Hiei grasped her arms. In a yellow flannel shirt and olive slacks, her marigold-bright hair blowing in the breeze, Shayla Kidd looked decidedly unharmed, not the least bit in need of rescue.
"Hiei," she began, "what on earth-" He pulled her close, cutting off her words.
Someone gave a discreet cough. "Get a room." Kurama's familiar contralto spoke as he too, emerged from behind the rock.
"Happy birthday, Hiei." From behind the boulder also stepped Kaitou Yuu. Hiei very gently put Shayla Kidd away from him.
Kurama: Hiei's oldest friend, tallish, spare, athletic, with long russet hair and leaf-green eyes. Kaitou, friend and author, dark of hair and eyes, completely un-athletic, but with a confident bearing that comes from wealth and success.
Now Hiei spotted a Bell executive-style helicopter, just beyond the wood-frame house. He said to Kurama, "You can fly a chopper. No driver's license, but you can fly a chopper."
"Oh, that's just a little thing I picked up."
Hiei turned to his Firebird. "But you're terrified of heights. How did they get you up here in that thing?"
"Amazing what a blindfold and a gunny sack will accomplish," deadpanned Kaitou.
Hiei took a breath. "They came to your rescue first?"
Now it was Shayla Kidd's turn to look blank. "Rescue?"
For a few moments, Hiei couldn't speak. "It's not my birthday," he grumbled at last.
"Just go with it," advised Kurama.
A big man, about six-three, emerged from the house. He was dressed in khaki camouflage complete with safari hat, like a parody of a big-game hunter. Hiei knew in an instant who was in charge. As the big man drew closer Hiei saw that he was human, in his 40s, with arms thick as pythons.
"None of this is remotely amusing." Hiei threw Kurama such a death-glare that his old friend hastily stepped back. "Why would you do something like this? And why would Shay-san agree?"
Kaitou's measuring glance flicked from Hiei to Shayla Kidd to Suzuki. "I think," he began, "we may be at cross-purposes."
"You all think kidnaping and death threats are funny?"
"What?" The big man had a soft, genteel voice, and light brown eyes in a craggy, weather-beaten face.
Hiei's head started to pound; the thin air was getting to him. He took a steadying breath. "That damned crow said: 'We have your Firebird. If you want to see her alive again, come to the summit riding a tiger.'"
On the far side of the pool, Sha bolted chunks of the bloody haunch, murmuring to himself: "Good, good, nice, Siberia," oblivious to all else, reduced to an idiot feeding ecstasy.
Hiei turned to Shayla Kidd. "I was crawling up the mountain on that stupid beast's back, trying to figure out who abducted you and what he wanted with a tiger"
"Impossible," said the big man.
Kurama shook his head. "Death threats? That can't be."
"Oh?" Hiei rounded on him.
Kurama flung up both hands in a placating gesture. "Because I told the crow exactly what to say: 'Come join us at the summit. I hear the Tiger Express is a nice way to travel. We'll be waiting for you- signed, Shay-san and company.'"
Suzuki, evidently recovered from his fright, had pried himself off his velvet pillows and strolled to their side. He said, with an irritating grin, "I might have told the bird to alter the message somewhat."
Hiei stared at Suzuki. I thought she was dead, and you played me for all it was worth.
Suzuki was laughing, softly.
Hiei's head hurt. His breathing was labored. The thin, dry air scraped his throat and lungs. He glanced around at the big man, Kurama, Kaitou.
With a sigh, Hiei slowly turned away from Suzuki.
Then spun, in an eyeblink, to launch himself straight at Suzuki's throat. With gleeful bloodlust, Hiei felt his fingers close on yielding flesh.
Predictably, Suzuki fought back.
They rolled on the ground, hammering at one another, people jumping back to avoid them. Hiei knew how Genkai had felt; there was something immensely satisfying about beating this clown to a pulp using only his bare hands.
When they were at last pried apart by Kurama and the big man, Suzuki had two black eyes, a bloody nose, plus assorted cuts and bruises. Hiei had a split lip, skinned knuckles, and no breath left to speak of, but all his muscle kinks had loosened up, and his mood had considerably lightened.
The big man's name was Hammond. The chopper was his. He had a no-nonsense attitude that appealed to Hiei-and he rarely liked anyone on first meeting.
As Hammond led them toward the little house, they learned that he owned a great swath of acreage, along with the animal compound. There, he looked after confiscated animals, rehabbing them until they found places at legitimate zoos.
Hammond was quite proud of the house, showing Hiei around the warm, paneled interior. "Fully equipped with bath and kitchen. You go clean up. Then we can eat."
After a long, hot shower, Hiei joined the others.
The dining room presented an inviting scene, with a long pine table gleaming in the light of many candles, laden with steaks and chops and side dishes that smelled wonderful. There was even a cake.
Hammond poured Hiei a healthy glass of Jim Beam. This further improved his mood.
They sat to dine, Suzuki sulking in a corner seat. Between bites and sips, Hiei recounted his story. The occasional gasp from Shay-san, Kaitou's exclamations, Hammond's commiseration, and Kurama's intense silence, proved almost as satisfying as the food and drink.
"And I'm afraid I bent your fence." Hiei tilted his head at Suzuki. "He'll pay for it."
Suzuki lifted a mournful face, decorated with two shiners. "That's me," he said. "The world's punching bag."
"Suits you," said Hiei.
"But Hiei," said Kurama, "you have to admit that it's been an interesting day."
"Sure. Riding a tiger all the way up a mountain."
"There was a crate for the tiger." Hammond poured him another drink. "On wheels."
"I see. Pulling a crate with a four-hundred-pound tiger all the way up a mountain. You're right, Kurama. What fun."
Shayla Kidd turned her giggle into a cough.
"Suzuki's own special design," Hammond continued. "Easily moved. A child could have pulled it, tiger and all, with one hand. We left you a note, pinned to the crate."
"Didn't see it."
All eyes turned to Suzuki. Suzuki looked at the floor. "I might also have hidden the crate."
Sighing, Hiei regarded his skinned knuckles. His headache had receded. He was now too full, too comfortable, to get up and fight again. "You're not worth the extra effort," he concluded.
"Let him eat fugu," suggested Kaitou.
"Inexpertly prepared," added Shayla Kidd.
Hammond, it turned out, was an acquaintance of Kaitou's. They had met when Kaitou had done research for an article on animal hoarders, and stayed in touch. Sha had developed an interest in the compound's female tiger, and became depressed after her passing. It was thought a trip to the mountain might lift his spirits. To assist, Hammond called on Kaitou, who called on Kurama.
Even Shayla Kidd had been in on the plan-but there was no kidnaping involved. "As if I'd ever agree to something like that," she said.
Every now and then, as they lingered over coffee, Hiei went to check on Sha, now collared and confined to a metal-barred transport crate after his haunch a la carte-a twin to the one Suzuki had hidden.
Sha was fast asleep. "Stupid tiger," said Hiei fondly.
Once, Shayla Kidd joined him. "Hiei," she said, and he knew she was serious; she used his name, and not Shuujin-sama or 'Dragon Boy.' "I'm so sorry this happened-"
"Wasn't your fault." He reached for her hand.
They watched the tiger's paws twitch as he slept. He looked enormous in the crate. Shay-san let out a long breath. "He's beautiful, but I'm glad there are bars between us."
The next time Hiei checked, Hammond came along.
"What'll happen to Suzuki?" Hiei wondered.
"Maybe nothing. Maybe he'll be escorted back to-" Hammond slanted Hiei a sly glance, "-wherever it is he came from."
The tip of Sha's tail flicked. "The female tiger?"
"Drug dealer's 'pet,' and in rough shape by the time we got her. She died in spite of our best efforts."
Sha grunted in his sleep. Hammond grinned at the big cat. "You named him Sha, right? His story isn't bad. He was born in captivity, owned by a small circus that went bankrupt."
"That explains his lack of curiosity."
"He's just a big idiot-but I'm amazed you could ride him. After all, a tiger's still a tiger. That hunk of meat had a mild tranquilizer in it. He'll sleep the whole time we're up here."
"You're going to use that to move him?" Hiei jerked his head toward the executive helicopter.
Hammond nodded. "I'll move Sha back to the compound first. Then I'll return for the rest of you."
"I don't know how many seats there are in that Bell, but I'd like to ride along with you and the beast."
"Consider it done."
But having walked to Siberia, Sha slept through it all.
-30-