Whoo, sequel! I knew all you loyal readers out there [pssht, what, the 5 or 6 of ya? Love ya anyway!] were gettin' antsy, and I'm no fan of mobs that I ain't the head of. So, here you are, the long-awaited sequel.
Disclaimer, disclaimer, disclaimer: LoIT doesn't own YYH, now or ever. So don't think I do. 'Cause I don't.
The forest was quiet, dark, and, somehow, serene. Maybe it was all the fresh-fallen snow which coated all of the desolate, dead landscape. Perhaps it was the solitude of the forest. She didn't know. She didn't care. It was a winter wonderland that offered her a respite from the challenges of her new life, and one she took well.
At the edge of the tree line was a lake. As she approached it, she could see the water was frozen solid. She stepped onto the placid surface, treading lightly, until she reached the middle of the lake, where she stopped. Looking down, she could see her own reflection, but it was different. Older, perhaps--no, definitely. She kneeled down to more closely examine herself. When she reached out to touch her face, to make sure it was her own, the ice cracked. She didn't have the chance to jump back before the ice--the glass--shattered beneath her.
Falling into the blackness, it seemed like forever before she landed on a solid surface. The world around her was still black, even the water on which she was standing. Her amazement and wonder were cut short by a sharp pain in her left palm. Glancing down, she could see her hand bleeding, cut from the shattered shards of glass through which she'd fallen. As the blood dripped into the water, a scream pierced the silence.
It wasn't hers.
The voice was easily identified. Loud, high-pitched, shrill; her mind immediately recognized her mother's voice. It shrieked and raved, carrying on about her hatred and disgust, wishing an early and painful demise upon her. For the first few moments, she was able to ignore it, but it soon grew in volume. She panicked. There was no origin, nothing for her to focus on to ignore it any longer. Unnerved and unwilling, she dropped to her knees, clasping her hands over her ears and squeezing her eyes shut. It was all in vain; the screams still came through.
She wasn't sure, but she thought she screamed. Loudly, painfully, agonizing. Time didn't pass. The blood dripped from her hand into the water again, a slight sploosh following. For the endless eon for which she was tormented, she perhaps screamed, until all breath had gone, wishing that it would end.
Suddenly, she became very aware of another's presence. Feeling that she knew who it was, she slowly opened her eyes and looked up. She was right. Excitement fluttered through her; her elation only barely matched the magnitude of the screams. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. At least, she didn't think they did, but some must have, as he replied with a somber expression, pulling out his blade. She knew what was coming next, and only stared in horror. No, no--
Umi screamed, shooting up in bed. Panting heavily, she looked around her dark bedroom. It was certainly no different than it ever was these days: volume upon volume of forgotten lore littered her floor, hiding what she felt was a light bamboo floor; notebooks and papers and writing utensils covered her mahogany desk, hiding her laptop among the clutter; the closet door burst forth from the wall from being crammed with clothing and video game equipment, as well as a few, more illegal things hidden in the back. Seeing nothing to prompt her continued fears, she forcibly slowed her breathing as she wiped the sweat from her brow.
After calming herself down, Umi laid down on the mattress, pulling the sheets up, and attempted to fall back asleep. That was the third time that week she'd had a nightmare like that. One with him in it. She was irate at him, still, for abandoning her like that. Who did he think he was? What sort of terrible person would cause another so much pain? Irritated, Umi shook her head. She was just being unreasonable. All of her psychology books said she was just suffering from a dependent personality disorder, and, begrudgingly, she believed it. Luckily for her, there was an escape, a distraction: explosions.
A soft smile came to her lips. Ever since he left, she'd had to get her powers under control by herself, and now she had essentially a complete grasp of her abilities, and recently had put them to use blowing things up with Yusuke and Kuwabara every Friday. Tomorrow--or rather, today, whatever--was Friday, and they had something good planned.
Having comforted herself, she rolled over and promptly fell asleep. The dream was carefully filed away in the mental wastebasket for the blissful infinity of nonexistence.
The bell rang, signalling that it was lunchtime. Yusuke walked over to Kuwabara's desk, leaning up against it. "What time did she say she was coming?" he murmured, glancing at the clock. "It's 12:30."
"I'm more concerned with how she's gonna sneak all that in here without getting caught," Kuwabara replied, taking a ridiculously large bite of his sandwich.
"She looks innocent enough," Yusuke answered. "She'll just throw it all in a bag or something; nobody's gonna stop her for questioning."
Kuwabara's reply was muffled by his mouth full of sandwich, and, before he managed to swallow his gigantic bite, he was interrupted by the teacher.
"Mr. Urameshi," Mr. Takenaka called from the door. "Your cousin is here to see you." He didn't seem entirely convinced that this was kosher, but he didn't really want to get involved.
"Cousin?" Yusuke repeated. "What cousin?"
"Is she hot?" Kuwabara asked, following Yusuke to the door.
"Even if she is, you can't date her; I don't want to wind up being related to you."
"Hey--!" Kuwabara was cut off by Yusuke opening the door, and the two recognized who it was immediately. "Hey, why are you pretending to be Urameshi's cousin?"
"Only students and their relatives can get into the building during school hours," Umi informed quietly. Louder, she recited, "Yusuke, you left your things at home again. You'll never learn if you keep doing that."
Catching on, Yusuke responded, "Oh, sorry cuz; I was just so excited to get to school this morning that I forgot it. Thank you so much."
Before she turned to leave, she murmured, "I'm setting them off in one hour exactly. Make sure they're in place and you're gone by then."
"Gotcha."
Louder, Umi replied, "You're welcome, Yusuke. Well, I have to head back to school--my lunch break's almost over. See you later!"
As soon as she left, Kuwabara commented to Yusuke in an undertone, "You're a terrible actor. Now, where are we gonna hide these?"
Yusuke grinned. "Follow me."
It was 1:29. At the Jr. High, many students were engaged in a rousing game of dodgeball in the gymnasium. The bouncy red orbs flew back and forth across the midpoint of the gymnasium, and much noise filled the open area--a combination of shouts, laughter, and the resonant ker-thunk of the dodgeballs hitting solid surfaces. Among these joyous students were Yusuke Urameshi, Kazuma Kuwabara, and Keiko Ukimora. Of all the people in the gymnasium, only two looked at the clock and suspected a thing.
It was 1:29. At the high school, students were sitting in their classes. One class in particular, a literature one, had a very, very monotonous vibe to it, and many of the students had stopped paying attention. As the professor droned, it seemed that only two students were even pretending to pay attention: Shuichi Minamino, who was precariously taking notes, and Umi Minamino, who switched between listening to the teacher and glancing at the clock.
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1
Umi released the energy trap that she'd been holding since the evening before. Her cousin noticed, but refrained from saying anything; he settled for a look that said "control yourself." She grinned sheepishly, in an attempt to say that it was an accident; the explosion of energy that was triggered gave her away.
At precisely 1:30, the game of dodgeball came to an unexpected halt. From places unknown, fireworks sputtered forth, exploding throughout the gymnasium. People screamed, running to the doors, only to get caught in the rush to escape. This grup included the aforementioned group of three identified students, two of whom were desperately trying not to laugh, prompting the appropriate disciplinary response from the third.
"Did you have something to do with this?" Keiko snapped, glaring between Yusuke and Kuwabara.
"Who, us?" the two replied innocently, still struggling with their snickers.
"You guys could hurt somebody!" she insisted, stamping her foot. "Stop it this instant!"
"Yeah, we can't do that," Yusuke informed.
"Someone else triggered them from a remote location," Kuwabara explained. "So we can't really do anything about them."
"Aside," Yusuke added, "they're not dangerous."
No sooner had the words escaped from his lips than did one of the fireworks hit one of their classmates, lighting his jacket on fire. Two other students tackled him while a third grabbed a fire extinguisher and shot the flaming student with it, covering all three in carbon dioxide foam. Keiko gave Yusuke and Kuwabara a disapproving glance.
"Well, he isn't hurt, is he?"
Keiko's glance didn't waver.
Kurama glanced at the clock again. 6:00. Umi should be home any minute. He turned back to the stove, finishing up the stir fry. As he jerked the handle of the wok back and forth, he felt somebody outside the window. The kitsune recognized the energy, but kept his attention on supper; he didn't want it to burn.
The person came into the kitchen and stood behind the table, waiting to be acknowledged. After a few moments, he finally was.
"It's been a while," Kurama informed lightly. "A little bit over a year, I think."
"You door was locked," the other informed snarkily.
Kurama laughed, pausing his cooking for just a moment. "Well Hiei, I honestly didn't expect you back."
"Hn."
"So what brings you back to the wretched human world?" It was obvious that there was amusement in his voice, mixed with mild mockery.
Hiei momentarily shifted his gaze before answering, "Lord Youkai requests your presence in court."
A long pause was the reply, tense, only broken up by the sizzling from the stove. That was the last answer Kurama was expecting, as was evident based on the shock in his eyes. "Lord Youkai?" he repeated, raising his eyebrow slightly. "The Lord Youkai? Youkai Yami?"
"Yes."
Again, silence permeated.
"You're joking."
"Kurama, I don't joke."
"Lord Youkai requests my presence?"
"For your assistance with a project."
Another pause.
"What kind of project?"
"I don't know."
The fox demon was immediately suspicious. The Youkai clan wasn't known for its...charitable...or kosher...projects... "I can't go."
"Why not?"
"I can't just leave Umi here; who else will take care of her while mother is on her honeymoon?"
"She can come with; Lord Youkai also requests her presence."
"No," Kurama decided, walking over to the table. "Absolutely not. I am not letting her get involved with them."
"And why not?" Hiei demanded, annoyed. "You know how Lord Youkai gets when he is disobeyed."
"The Makai isn't the place for her," he explained, almost witlessly. "She'll only be hurt there--you know how demons are toward humans."
"She doesn't have a choice," Hiei informed flatly. "There are dire consequences for disobeying Lord Youkai's commands."
"I'll deal with them. She's not going." Kurama was obstinate.
"You didn't even ask her if she wanted to go," Hiei tried, more bothered.
"I don't need to."
"I, however, do."
Kurama gave him a blank look, which the confused fire demon greatly. What was he scheming? "No, you can't."
"I can't what?"
"You can't ask her."
"I can't ask her?" he repeated, incredulous.
"You can't even see her."
"This is ridiculou--"
"Hiei, you don't understand," Kurama emphasized, sighing heavily as he slunk into the chair. "She cared so much for you, and then you just left her and haven't kept contact in over a year, and now you just come along and want her to risk her life for something I'm almost positive is illegal and immoral. She's wounded, and I don't know that she's healed any; seeing you again won't help her at all--it'll only hurt her. I can't have that."
"Kurama, you're being an idiot. The girl doesn't respond to your overprotection. She won't be pleased to find out that you're dictating her life."
"As though you would know what makes her happy?"
"Do you know what makes her happy? Tell me, Kurama, is she happy here?"
The kitsune paused, giving Hiei a sobering glance as he collapsed further into his seat. "She's...content," he decided, cradling his head in his hand. "She's just content. But content is better than hurt, and I won't let her be in pain any longer."
Hiei didn't speak. He simply kept an annoyed expression on his face and turned to leave. "You have a week to leave," he added, just before darting back out the window, leaving Kurama alone.
Kurama was a mess. What was he going to do? He couldn't let her get hurt again...but, if they didn't go, Lord Youkai...well, he wouldn't be pleased. It seemed that no matter what, somebody was going to end up in pain. He sighed heavily, supposing that he'd have to break the news to her soon. That wouldn't turn out well, either. None of it would.
Mmmm, and the drama is already begun! I'm going to rest my hands now from all that typing, and there will be an update soon. Hope y'all enjoyed it.
Oh, almost forgot. Your sampler for the next chapter:
You appear like raindrops
And leave like you sink through
The streets that you fall on
The cars that slip on you
All of this for just one night
-Raindrops, Armor For Sleep