OjiKiba's Castle NeverEnding Hatred

by Hikari loves Kurama

Kurama is not acting like himself. He's rude, snappish, and even quieter than normal. Hiei wants to know why. But as our short friend attempts to get the kitsune to fess up, he falls victim to the very thing Kurama was protecting him from...

Disclaimer: I do not own YuYu Hakusho. Duh.

A/N: This story is based of off my own opion of what Hiei's past was like, I have nothing to back it up. So do't get mad if something that happens to him contradicts his "real" past. This is also a pretty sad story, so those of you who don't want to see Hiei suffer better stop reading now. Don't worry, none of the main characters die. I think.

Chapter one: The assassin I Once Knew.

"Hiei." Kurama's tone was strong and commanding, most unlike he usually was towards Hiei, for Hiei would not allow such 'riffraff' to impose any authority upon him, and yet Kurama was doing so now, "Get down here." Though he did not say it aloud, his tone said it for him: NOW!

"Hn," Came the surly reply from the among the hidden branches of the tree that grew outside the high school Kurama attended. "How was your day, Kitsune?" He asked, only half mockingly.

"Hiei." Kurama repeated. He stood just bellow Hiei, though he could not see him, a thin black briefcase held tightly in his left hand. He wore the uniform; a red, almost pinkish colored coat and pants. It clashed terribly with his scarlet hair, not that Kurama noticed nor cared, he wasn't much into that sort of thing. "Did Koenma send you?" He cast a breezy glance around the schoolyard, and in seeing no onlookers, continued briskly, "It is it another mission? Whats the status?"

Hiei's soft chuckle didn't offend Kurama. Much. "Can't I come to see you without being Koenma's messenger boy?" He laughed again, this time for quite a bit longer. Finally he grumbled, "Had a bad day, is that it?" He kept his friendly concern from his voice with ease, as he always did. He waited for a reply, though got none. Kurama was obviously upset about something, so Hiei chose not to push it. He didn't want to sound as if he cared. It didn't go with his image. Cold indifference and the love of cruel mockery made up most of his character.

"What do you want?" Kurama snapped suddenly, his green eyes flashing, "Have you really come to mock me? Are you that pathetic that you have nothing else to fulfil your life?"

Hiei blinked in awe. Kurama was being rude and barbarian, completely out of character; this was simply mind boggling. Kurama was kind, generous, sturdy in morals, quick witted, trustworthy, and, deep down, he had a sense of pride. He was acting so odd that Hiei went so far as to peer down at him through the leaves, as if it may be an imposter. No, the long, ruby-red hair, strikingly green eyes, boyishly handsome, dependable face, insubstantial-looking, but quite strong shoulders, and lean body were all as they should be. But the expression! He usually had a pleasant, friendly smile on his lips, his eyes shinning with pure joy at seeing his friends, his cheeks slightly rosy. But this - no, this could not be Kurama - this person, had a cold stance that Kurama's gentle face simply couldn't contain. "But," Hiei mused silently, "Kitsune wasn't always so sweet-tempered. He was as ruthless as me. But that was so long ago..."

But Hiei did not dismiss this so quickly. Something drastically wrong must have happened that day during his educational training (that's what Hiei often called school, for some odd reason) to cause Kurama to so blindly toss his nature to the wind and become rash like this. Hiei continued to scrutinize his tomodatchi [friend], which was difficult to do, with him being five feet or so above him. Kurama gazed stubbornly at the tree trunk, avoiding Hiei's amber-red eyes. "Are you quite finished gawking at me? I'd like to go home." He spat stiffly. The muscles in his jaw clenched as he spun on his heel and started off towards the street. Hiei let him go with a grudging glance. Something was wrong. So, Hiei did what he always did, he spied.

"Darn fire apparition. Thinks I can't see him, the arrogant little henjin [freak]." Kurama murmured as he hurried from the school yard. Hiei's form clearly slid from the tree and ascended to the rooftops nearby, his body a blur, his speed unrivaled by any. "Wonder what he's up to now?" A smile forced its way onto his lips, a general sign of acceptance, not joyousness. Kurama knew perfectly well what Hiei was doing, only he wished he weren't. He had - with great difficulty that had surprised him - faked the whole darn thing in effort to keep Hiei from bothering him the next few days. He had half achieved his goal. Hiei would not pester him face-to-face, but he would be a nuisance none-the-less. "Baka [stupid/idiot]! Baka! Baka!" Kurama growled to Hiei even though he couldn't hear him.

His route was altered on the account that he was being followed. Instead of taking main street as his habit was to do, he took a sharp turn into an alley, dodging a hissing and spitting black cat, and fairly running into a trash barrel. The sounds of dogs' barks echoed on the graffiti-plastered, dull red, brick walls. Kurama's pupils slid to the corners of his optics in order to trail Hiei's short frame as he pursued by means of the rooftops.

Hiei found himself in a tricky situation, for you see, Koenma had some work for him to do in Makai, but, of course, Hiei simply couldn't let up his pursuit. Now, what could our mousy little friend do? The evil grin that he was famous for, the one you often see him wear on the show, cracked across his already depraved face, making it quite obvious he was both a demon in body; and heart. It wasn't as if he had planned to go, anyway.

Hiei's eyes trailed away from Kurama's back, out into the city. The heavens held evidence of a rather early sunset; the sun was enshrouded in scarlet and pink clouds, and the moon's presence could just barely be spotted, an eerie half orb in the reddish-in-hue sky. Perhaps this would be pretty to a passerby of the norm, but Hiei acknowledged it with an icy glance, and that was it.

Even Kurama was stung with the beauty of our world's atmosphere, and acted accordingly. No 'oohs' or 'ahs', just a smile and a nod, as though he approved of the layout. The demonic side of him scoffed the sunset, while his new frame of mind would not allow ridicule of the dusk to be said aloud. It was as if he were two people, not one. Though this may seem confusing to most, Kurama could quite easily handle two personalities. His demon side was most used when in battle. His human side was his main outlook, docile and sweet.

The front door of his house beckoned Kurama, the smell of home-made bread gave a pleasant tingle to his nostrils as his hand grasped the knob. "Mother?" He called as the door swung open with a homely creak. Mrs. Minnimano's glad cry met his ears, and he made note of the joyous tone to it. She came briskly from the kitchen, wrapping her son in a warm embrace, burying her face in his fine red hair, a general gladness in her tired eyes. "Oh, Suiichii . . . I missed you so much! To think in three short years you'll be off on your own. Oh, sweetie-"

"Don't be silly," Kurama chuckled softly as he pried himself from his mother's grip. In a lighthearted manner he kicked off his shoes, neatly setting them in the box beside the door. In the same manner he tossed his coat in the closet, them changed his mind and took it out to hang it systematically on the rung. "What's for dinner, Mother?"

His mother answered in that loving tone most mothers use when speaking to a beloved son, "I thought we could eat out tonight. You must be tired of my cooking by now!"

"No." Kurama said sharply. His mother goggled at him, her dear little boy who was always polite and kind. Her lips moved to form her son's name, a look of both hurt and confusion on her sweet face. "We'll eat here tonight. I'm not in the mood to go out . . . ." Kurama forced a smile onto his face, trying to reassure his mother that he hadn't meant to snap in such away. But the smile looked almost plastic it was so fake. "I'll cook."

"Well," Ms.Minimano looked crestfallen, "If you want to, dear. But a new restaurant just opened up, and I thought-"

"No, no mother. I'll cook tonight, don't you think my cooking is better than a restaurant's?"

"Okay." She brightened up considerably, "I always did say that restaurants are far to expensive to bother with. You cook, I'll be taking a shower. But, Suichii, aren't you tired from school? Are you sure . . . ?"

"Yes."

"Be careful with the oven, its been known to burn things when you aren't looking."

"Of course, Mother."

She stood there, seeming to wait for something more. When Kurama remained silent, she turned her body slowly, her head cocked curiously to the side, her graying hair falling down her front. Kurama was struck with her likeness to Hiei, when he too, had waited for Kurama to answer. Two totally different people; two entirely different worlds, and both were to be deceived and hurt.

"Suichii, whats a matter, hon? You're acting so odd."

"Quit worrying about me. And make that a bath, this might take a while, okay? An hour or so." Kurama turned away from her loving, but perplexed gaze. Guilt colored his cheeks scarlet. "I love you." He murmured in a hushed whisper, a solitary tear made it's way down his cheek, falling to the floor, going unseen by his mother, "I'm so sorry."

"Sorry? For what? I don't care where we eat, honest." She wrapped her arms once more around him, the side of her face resting on his back, her arms around his slim waist. "I love you too."

"I-I know, Mother. You don't understand how well I know." A sob shook his body as he put his hand on hers, giving them a gentle squeeze. He silenced it as it came to his lips so as not to alarm his mother further. "How I wish I deserved you."

"Suichii? Don't say that, I am the one who doesn't deserve you!"

"No, you don't deserve me. But not in the way you think."

"Oh!" She laughed, though cheerful and kind, it stung Kurama in the heart, cutting the air from his lungs. "I love and adore you! You aren't a burden. Silly."

"I'll get your bath ready, Mother."

"Such a dear." She said fondly, her eyes closing in ecstasy. "I cherish you. If anything were to ever separate us-! I cannot bare the thought."

Stop. Please stop this. Kurama begged inwardly as his heart tore, pain etched in every line of his face, his eyes tightly shut in agony at the thought of what he must do. "I love you," He repeated softly, tears spilling down his face, staining the front of his uniform shirt. His lips trembled as he unclasped his mother's hands, firmly, but gently. His manner frightened his mother, who had no idea what he was being forced to do. "Suichii, darling, if something was wrong, you'd tell me, right?"

Kurama didn't answer. He was a mere shell now; his heart had shattered and he was emotionally dead. He had no will left in him to answer, no care as to what she thought of him; so long as she lived. Urameshi would care for her; she loved Yuskue. Kuwabara too. It was up to them to keep her happy, up to them to keep her safe- for he could not. Not any longer.

For you, Mother... I love you far to much to let them... I must do this... Forgive me... Please... Kurama let his thoughts die, not willing to bring himself to sobbing. His mother mustn't know. Kurama would have to divulge that horrific story; the tale that he had sworn never to tell this angelic woman who gave her all to him, despite his caustic attitude towards her in the beginning. Back before her lessons penetrated his thick, arrogant skull. Had she known who - what - he really was, she surely would have abandoned him as he deserved.

Ms.Minimano stifled a sob deep within her. What had gotten into her dear Suichii? Perhaps - oh, Lord, don't let it be that - he had grown away from her, that his tender words of love were forced. But, no. Suichii could never force such things! Right?

As both lingered in the hall, their hearts crying out in protest at their silence, a sound stirred something deep within Kurama's chest. A lone bird still sung his oddly cheery song, even now, in mid winter! And so late at night. It was as if that solitary bird had perched outside for the purpose of taunting Kurama. He had always preferred Nigenkai birds to those of Makai.

Kurama swallowed the lump in his throat with great difficulty. Would he ever again hear the gentle, heartfelt song of a Nigenkai bird? Would he ever again even hear a bird at'tall? Would his mother, who knew these tiny, frail creatures were cherished by her little son, Suichii, ever hear their song and not weep for her boy had gone without a trace or hope of being found? Kurama put trebling fingers to his abdomen as these agonizing thoughts churned his stomach. The taste of vomit singed his tongue and he gulped in effort to keep from heaving. His fingertips massaged his stomach in sharp little circles in order to fend off this nausea. Let this suffering stop. Let it end. Let me be! Kurama felt tears once more stinging his optics. Why must he endure this? Why couldn't they leave him alone, it had been years since... Well, it had been years.

The soap suds gave off the sweet aroma of freshly cut roses. Kurama leaned over the tub, reaching for some nameless bath product from off the shelf when he slipped. His bare feet had lost their footing. They rested in a dense drip of suds, and as he leaned, they slid. His knees cracked painfully on the tiled floor, and the lip of the tub caught him 'round the middle, forcedly knocking the wind from his lungs. For a terrifying moment, he actually considered drowning himself in that tub, it would solve his problems. No more suffering or agony. No more pain-filled missions, no more guilt... Kurama lifted his face from the bubbles, his hair soaked and clinging to the edges of his face, and blinked suds from his eyes. To any one who happened to be looking in his window, say, from a perch in one of the trees, Kurama would frankly look comical. Unless the onlooker was Hiei, who had no sense of humor, or so it seemed. And it happened to be Hiei who pitilessly watched Kurama toil away in the bathroom, preparing a bath for his mother. Kurama's laphter had an embarrassed ring to it, as though he knew he had an audience. He must have, for he said gruffly, his head upturned to the window, "I see you haven't got anything else in your life to entertain you... but must you pester me?"

"Hn." Came the reply, just as surly as it had been prior, from among the tree's thick branches. Hiei stood on a branch directly across from the window, his arms folded across his chest, a moody look on his face. The streetlight's rays did not reach the tree, therefore his face was shadowed. "Perhaps, Kitsune, you ought to kindly divulge your secretive story. Quick-like, so I can get outa here in time to make my rounds at Koenma's office. Hurry up, kid, I don't have all day."

"I am not a gullible child whom you can manipulate, Hiei." Kurama spoke calmly, averting his eyes from Hiei's soul-penetrating gaze. "I do no need to divulge anything, for there is nothing to divulge."

"You don't get it, do you? I will find out what has you in this little hissyfit. Don't make me..." Hiei lifted his arm, his fingertips caressing his bandana. The coarse fabric felt oddly familiar to his sensitive touch sensors. He pulled his hand away from the bandana, a smirk coming to his lips, "Use this, kiddie." He chuckled softly, a hint of mockery to it. "My jagon hasn't had a taste of a mind as sophisticated as one such as yours, but I assume it would be up to the challenge."

"I cannot tell you." Kurama snapped suddenly, his head jerking to the side, his eyes flickering as footsteps echoed in the hall, his mother's soft call coming to his ears. A solitary drip of water fell from his sopping hair, splattering on the tile floor. "Go, now! Please, Hiei." His eyes glinted with the pleading of his heart, his words frantic.

"Kitsune, my friend, you-" Hiei stopped short as Ms.Minimano's call became clear to his ears, and, with a rather hesitant look on his face, and with the confidence and perfection of a professional gymnast, he leapt from the tree onto the roof, his feet landing with a soft TAK. He stood there for a moment, a skeptical feeling melting into his heated conscious.

A slight wind picked up, blowing the corners of his robe, twisting it around his muscular legs. Dust rose in small swirls around him on the roof. A sudden feeling of apprehension, like that of just before a bloody battle that he may lose, arose in him. His hand strayed automatically to his sword's hilt, and he held it tenderly in his fingers, his heart rate soaring, adrenaline pouring into his system. He swallowed hard as the wind picked up speed, blowing his hair in his eyes, making proper visional tactics impossible. Sweat beaded the fringes of his cold face, dripping onto his shoulders. What was this feeling? Why had it hit him so abruptly, here, on the roof?

"Hiei..." A soft, gentle female voice rung in his ears, sending shivers up and down his arms, "You wanted to know what ailed Kurama, am I correct?" Her breath tickled his ear lobe, her lips almost touching his skin. He felt a sharp tip of metal nudge his thigh, not quite piercing his skin. He recognized the feeling, it was a sword, almost identical to his own only with a shorter hilt, made for one-armed usage. "Then you may fall victim as he will. Do not fear my words, you shall live. But pain will be yours." Slowly the unknown creature applied pressure, the blade ripping his robe, then resting on his bare skin, "Unless you come... how do the accursed nigens say it? 'Come quietly'?"

"Who are you?" Hiei growled thickly, his main focus on that blade that was starting to become more threatening to him. He could not turn, for then the mysterious voice's sword would rip into his soft flesh. Curse his being a mortal! He was as fragile as any other living being, though his defense was phenomenal. His ears strained to hear each of her silkily spoken words, which were somehow familiar. "You-"

"Dearest Hiei, who has time for trifling chats? Surely not you, whom stands at death's door. Tell me, how have you faired these years? I was sure you'd find a suitable occupational slot, seeing as you're, well, you; but sinking so low as to kiss Koenma's feet! Hiei, Hiei, Hiei..." He winced as blood streamed down his ripped robes, "Why must my teacher fall to such DISGUSTING alternatives!?" In one swift movement, the sword's blade flashed in the moonlight, the hilt striking his temple.

For a moment, everything about Hiei was frozen: His mouth was open as if he was about to vomit, his eyes wide in pain, his stomach contracting, the agony of the hit obvious. The girl jerked the dagger away, poising it infront of Hiei's stomach. Hiei let out a gasp, the force of the knock causing his eyes to roll. The pain was getting to his head, the worry and the agony gradually breaking his sanity. A tremor passed through his body as a cold wind blew his disarrayed clothes and stung his skin. With the lightening fast precision and strength of an assassin, the sword was thrust a millimeter from Hiei's flesh. It plunged deep into Hiei. She threw her full weight into it, thick, red-black blood surging down Hiei's robes.. until it could go in no further. It was up to its hilt, the girl pulled her bloodstained hand away from Hiei. He doubled over in pain. His eyes broadened, his lips parted as a flow of words poured out of his mouth. He made choking sounds, his pale face turning a nasty shade of purple. All at once his torrent of words stopped. His whole body shuddered. His pupils dissipated away, only the whites of his eyes could be seen. He fell backward into the girl, shacking uncontrollably, unable to breathe. A poison had set in, not lethal, but enough to knock him out for awhile. The last thing his eyes could consciously make out were the gentle purple eyes of his murderer. Those eyes caused a static shock to awaken his fogging brain, memories swirling before his eyes. Still, the poison would not relent. In words that were slurred like those of a drunken sailor, Hiei murmured, "Hikari...! You... I thought you were..." Before slipping back into her arms.

Chapter two: Past Pain and Present Problems (I should be sued for over use of the letter P)

Kurama felt it as though it had happened to him rather than Hiei. His green eyes narrowed into angry slits, rage causing his shoulders to shake. His mother cocked her head to the side once more, yet again perplexed. "Suichii?" She lifted a weathered hand to his forehead to check his temperature; he was burning up. "Oh, my! You poor dear, all fevered and me not knowing. Straight to bed with you!" She spoke with motherly concern.

"No..." Kurama skirted around her, ducking out the bathroom door, evading her with ease. "Mother, this will all make sense to you some day, but for now, you must trust in me." He turned his upper torso in order to gaze at her for one moment, his face grave and remorseful, "Trust me," He repeated earnestly.

"Suichii... please, tell me whats going on!" Ms.Minimano cried, tears suddenly springing up in her tiered eyes, her hands clasping into fists at her sides, "You can tell me!"

"Not now!"

"YES, NOW!"

"I-I-" Kurama blinked, his graveness replaced by a confounded look. His mother had never before shouted a command like this. Baffled, he spluttered, "My best friend's life is on the line, I don't have the time!" He longed to take those words back, snatch them from her ears. But she had heard them, and their meaning had sunken in.

".........Go, now, hurry, my little... you aren't my little boy anymore, are you? You're my brave son, who can surely make his own decisions."

"I love you, and I'm sorry." Kurama swallowed his emotions, throwing caution to the breeze. It was no time to skirt and babble, it was high time he spoke frankly with her, "I may die. This may be... the last time I lay eyes on your angelic face, mother. I have used you all these years, and I beg your forgiveness. I am not your son, but a-a..." He could not bring himself to say demon. "Imposter," He finished lamely, his shoulders sagging.

"I don't care who you are! I love you, Sui-.... I love you."

"You cannot love someone as vile as myself. Pray for me, mother.... I will not return. Yuskue and Kuwabara will care for you. Farewell."

Ms.Minimano sunk to her knees, her hands covering her sobbing face as he turned around once more, leaving her. His brisk footsteps echoed in the hall for a moment, then were gone. "Dear boy, come back to me safely...."

Yuskue's habitual snoring could be heard long before Kurama's feet crossed the threshold of his room. Yuskue's blankets were tossed pell-mell over his body, his legs sticking out and his muscular chest exposed. He muttered in his sleep, his words undistinguishable from his snores. Kurama, his face pale with anxiety and void of human expression, crossed the room, the light from the hall casting shadows over his school uniform. His fingertips hesitated just above his fellow's face, as though unsure as to whether to awaken him or not. "Yuskue..." Kurama's voice shook with the terror that shone in his eyes. His fingers touched the side of his face, giving him a soft prod, "Y-Yuskue, please!"

"No, Kayco, the guys are taking me out tonight... can't bring you... Hiei'd never have a woman along... No, Botan ain't going neither...! Shut yer mouth, girl." A thin trail of drool ran down Yuskue's mouth to his pillow. "I dun got anyfink that I gotta do Saturday, I'll take you shopping then..."

"YUSKUE!" Kurama bent over, his mouth quite near to Yuskue's ear and bellowed his name once, twice, three times. Yuskue groaned and turned over, his snores becoming louder.

Kurama's fingers closed over his arm, and he jerked Yuskue from his bed, landing painfully on the floor, screaming in fright: "UNG?!"

"Hiei has been captured, we have no time to chat!" Kurama cried, unable to keep the exasperation from his tone. Yuskue blinked stupidly, his tongue lolling out, perplexed.

"Hiei. . . ? Oh, yeah, him. Captured?"

"Yes, he's in mortal danger!" Kurama stared at Yuskue's dumbfounded look, then continued, "OjiKiba will have him tortured for information... Or worse..."

"What kind of information would he know?" Yuskue said, his brain slowly turning on. "When did he get captured? How? Where's he been taken?"

"Yuskue, Hiei and I work in the same room as Koenma, we know tons of stuff. Hiei in particular, that horrid little eavesdropper. He was captured approximately 15 minutes ago, and he's been taken to OjiKiba's castle in Makai." Kurama felt a wave of guilt at the thought of leaving out the fact that he had known this may happen, that he himself was planning to go to join OjiKiba, willingly. But Yuskue would have his hands full, without the addition of watching Kurama for signs of mutiny.

"Lets get Kuzuma and save him." Yuskue grasped Kurama's hand, pulling himself up with difficulty, seeing as he just woke up. "How do we get there..." Yuskue gazed into Kurama's troubled green eyes, a from creasing his forehead, "Hey, man, you okay?"

"Y-Yes, why shouldn't I be?"

"Liar." Yuskue accused softy, his brown eyes boring into Kurama's, "Yer worried about Hiei, eh? Don't worry, man! We'll get that jerk back, whether we keep him after that is still undecided, but hey!"

"Thanks," Kurama murmured, generally thankful for Yuskue's kind words and brave stance. "Come on... er, man?" Yuskue laphed and slapped him playfully on the shoulder. Kurama pretended to wince in pain.

"Yer getting there, man. Slow, yeah, but Rom wasn't built in a night, right?"

"I believe its 'Rome wasn't built in a day', Yuskue."

"Master OjiKiba, the insect has been transferred to the dungeon, cell three."

"Thank you, Aete. Make sure our guest is... Comfortable.... Frufrufru."

"Master?"

"Yes, what is it, dear girl?"

"Why didn't you allow Hikari to apprehend Kurama from the start?"

"Do you dare question my decisions?"

"... N-No."

"Your hesitation angers me, Aete."

"M-Master, forgive me!"

"I shall. But know this, no one disagrees with those who have power over them; the cost is death in this castle. Let that sink in."

".......Shall I seek Kurama's blood as well?"

"No, let him come to me. But, to keep you busy, go play with the river Styx, Botan. She is currently in asleep in her small apartment in southern Tokyo, though know one but she knows it. She keeps a low profile, even among her colleagues. Bring her here, alive, but terrified."

"I will enjoy it, my Master."

"Good. After that, trash Koenma's record library. He won't be needing it... It will be far to late to look me up anyhow, I'll have taken over before the toddler notices anyway."

"But, Kurama may tell..."

"No, I knew what I was doing when I threatened him before. He will keep his silence, mark my words... I am always correct."

"Of, course. Beg pardon, Master OjiKiba."

Kuwabara was hesitant on this particular situation. Hiei was, after all, a mousey little Henjin. What had he ever done to deserve being saved? Kuwabara's mind wandered to the Gate Of Betrayal in Maze Castle. What had Hiei done then, huh?

"This has always been my favorite part of the trail, watching the way you squirm as your muscles begin to pop and tear under the ceiling's weight . . . But of course, the best is your eyes; seeing the gears of thought turn in desperation . . . . thinking . . .questioning yourself? How long can I hold this? Will I die this way? Will one friend betray us and escape while we flatten . . . ? Or shall I be the one?" The odd, one-eyed, flying demon taunted.

"Just ignore that punk, stick together. And if anyone tries to run; I swear I'll bring 'um back my self." Kuwabara growled, his arms quivering, sweat making his palms slip. He shot a nasty glance at Hiei.

"Hah! And I sopose you think'd be noble if we died as a team?" Hiei spat, shaking his head at the pathetic nigen. His whole body strained to keep upright.

"That's right!"

"Here's a thought, lets shut up and find a way out." Yuskue cried, turning around. His gaze came to rest on a rather conveniently placed switch. "If we could just find a way to that switch . . . Hiei! Yer a lot faster than any of us. We'll hold the ceiling up while you go and flip the switch!"

"You crazy? We can't trust that guy, just look, he doesn't care at all about us." Kuwabara said, shooting yet another glare at Hiei.

"Yer ugly friend has a point, detective," Hiei chuckled.

"Who's ugly? C'mere you mouse!"

"Are you sure you wanna trust me? I've already vowed my revenge on you, maybe I'll handle that now." Hiei continued, ignoring Kuwabara's angry muttering.

"Yeah, but I don't think quick deaths are your style." A red, glowing aura surrounded Yuskue's entire body as he spoke, "I'll let all of the spirit power I have left to buy us a little time while you run to the switch, just don't trip. . . . I trust you." Yuskue grinned, his face aglow with childish trust, "Now go!"

Hiei blinked, his long lashes glinting in the light. Then, all at once, he dropped his arms from the stone and bolted. A smile spread across Kurama's lips, approving Hiei's choice. As soon as Hiei dropped, the strain on the other's arms increase, causing them to shift and groan in pain as their muscles tore. Hiei ran with speed like the gods, unmatched by any other being. Upon reaching the switch, he reached his hand out cautiously. A grin had stretched itself on his face, but now it faded to a look of perplexity. It hung there, in midair, for several seconds. His fingers splayed, then contracted once more. His hesitation frightened Kuwabara and Yuskue. Kurama wasn't in the least surprised.

"Whats the deal?! Pull the stupid switch already!" Kuwabara cried, enraged.

The flying demon descended, levitating just beside Hiei's shoulder, and spoke with cunning softness into Hiei's ear, "Theres no need to make snap judgments, my friend. What have they ever done for you?" Hiei gazed at his comrades as they stared back at him, fear in their eyes. Would he allow them to be crushed? "Leave them, and you can come with me into the castle." Kurama had gotten down on his knees in effort to keep the wall from killing them; he was so tall. Hiei gritted his teeth, unsure as to his own feelings. Yuskue focused entirely upon the weight, so as not to think about Hiei's possible betrayal. Kuwabara tilted his head to the side, no longer able to stand erect. They all pleaded silently with Hiei: HELP! "With the invasion of earth, the four saint beasts will control the future, be smart; join us. Perhaps you can be the general of our demon army."

"D-Don't you dare . . . you creep! If it hadn't been for our help, you'd still be screaming with the rest of us!" Kuwabara, of course, groaned that. He panted with the effort of holding up the ceiling.

That did it. Hiei's hand fell away from the switch, resting at his side. An evil chuckle aroused from his lips.

"What are you laphing about?" Kuwabara screamed faintly.

"Take a guess, you fool." Hiei inclined his head, his face shadowed.

"DARN YOU!"

"Yes," Crooned one-eye, "You take amusement from their pain, now imagine the satisfaction that'll come from their final scream. Whuhahawuhaha!"

"Hiei!" Kuwabara begged as the ceiling lowered, the three unable to hold it up any longer. His eyes shone bright with fear, as did Kurama's. But Yuskue did not fear death, no, he felt a wave of disappointment. He had trusted Hiei with their lives . . .

Kuwabara's face colored a nasty shade of red as he relived that day. Darn Hiei! He voiced his opinion to Kurama and Yuskue, who stood, shivering, on his doorstep. Kurama made an impatient sound, deep in his throat.

"I do not deny that Hiei isn't worth saving to you, however-" Kurama sounded shaken, his face still deathly pale. His eyes fogged up with tears, his voice becoming hoarse with desperation. "I cannot dream of saving Hiei without you and Yuskue's help. Please!"

"A wise choice; the boulder would have crushed you anyway." The demon confided. Hiei's eyes narrowed, anger suddenly sparking within him. He let out a growl and leapt, his eyes flaming, at the demon.

"Thanks for the clue!" He roared, poised midair, hand at his side, reaching for his sword hilt. With a merciless slash, he nearly cut the demon in half. It let out a hissing sound of agony. As soon as Hiei's feet landed with a soft TAK on the ground, he yanked the switch upward, freeing them from their predicament.

"He came through!" Yuskue said happily, letting his arms fall to his sides. But- no! An enormous boulder crashed down on their little savior, apparently crushing him, "HIEI!"

"Uhnya?" Kuwabara gargled. Kurama stared in horror as dust billowed from around the rock. Yuskue and Kuwabara's expressions came to match his. They rushed out, fairly tripping over each other in their haste. But atop the rock stood Hiei, his sharp voice shouting at the dying one-eye thing, "Tell your masters: this is their chance to beg for mercy!" It flew off, a bit off track.

Yuskue let out a sigh, bending over. Kuwabara leaned over beside him, friendly concern on his face. "Hey, are you alright?"

"Yeah," Yuskue said weakly, "I just can't feel my arms right now."

Hiei stepped lightly into their presence.

"I knew you'd save us; you punk." Yuskue winked and held up his hand, poised in a thumbs up. Hiei's answer as his shoulders lifting ever so slightly, a pout on his face. He blinked again, slow and cool. Yuskue walked over and put his hand on Hiei's slim shoulder, "But you did have me worried," He shook his shoulder playfully, Hiei giving him a murderous look, "Such a good actor." Yuskue released him, "You know, not every body can pretend to laph at their friends while they're dying."

"Humpf. Friends are just a crutch for the weak," Hiei growled, sauntering away from Yuskue's grinning face, "And I wasn't acting."

"Say what?!" Kuwabara's hands clutched into fists.

Hiei spun on his heel and pointed threateningly at him, "Don't confuse it. The only reason I saved you is because I MIGHT need your help." He strode away.

"Heh." Kurama smiled, "Its his way of saying 'you're welcome'. You will learn."

"Rrriiigghhttt." Yuskue laphed.

"Well, he still ticks me off." Kuwabara said huffily.

"Well, he still ticks me off," Kuwabara said, suddenly smiling.

"He ticks me off too." Yuskue agreed with a nod of his head. "So you'll do it?"

"Sure, man. Look at redhead, he's 'bout ready to faint. Like you and him can handle this."

"I thank you, Kuwabara." Kurama put a hand to his eyes, brushing away the tears. He heaved a sigh, then straightened his shoulders, "I must warn the both of you: This isn't going to be easy-"

"After the Dark Tournament, every thing is pie."

"No, not this. This will be the fight of your lives, perhaps your last; unless we can infiltrate his castle without being detected." Kurama spoke with emphasis.

"Okay. So, now you got me worried." Yuskue grinned.

"To make matters worse, Hiei may already be dead, or he may choose not to leave."

"Say that again?"

"OjiKiba swears ultimate power to his followers. Many cannot resist his offer." Kurama inclined his head, his hair glinting in the street lamp's light, "Not that I think Hiei will except. . . . . O-OjiKiba is a master of torture. He'll get information regarding top secret spirit world, and force Hiei to swear allegiance to him. If he has already begun torturing Hiei, it'll be. . . to . . . late. As soon as a new follower accepts him, he implants a control device in them. Hiei won't remember us, all he'll know is that his master wants us to accept him as well. We've got to stop him from doing it! I myself as on my way tonight to swear allegiance to him, to protect Hiei and my Mother. However... Now ..."

"No sweat, Kurama." Yuskue shook his head, slowly, almost painfully, "We gotta save the kid. Darn mouse, he's grown on me."

"Humpf. Friends are just a crutch for the weak," Hiei growled, sauntering away from Yuskue's grinning face, "And I wasn't acting."

"Say what?!" Kuwabara's hands clutched into fists.

Hiei spun on his heel and pointed threateningly at him, "Don't confuse it. The only reason I saved you is because I MIGHT need your help." He strode away.

". . . . Same here." Kuwabara said at last, "I don't think he believed what he said. After all, we MIGHT need his help later, right?"

"It's his way of saying, 'lets do this'." Yuskue told Kurama, who grinned.

"Dum diddy di dum; DUM DIDDY DI DUM; dum DUM!"

"Kuwabara, what do you think your doing?"

"That's our new theme music. You know, like in movies, when the dude goes off to rescue the chick, they play music?"

"Baka."

Chapter three: The Stealth of an Assassin Times Three (Jeez, my tittles are dumb)

Botan stretched, her arms folding behind her head, her head cocked to the side, a yawn making her eyes water. She let her arms fall to her side and she slumped into her couch, propping her feet, sock clad, on the coffee table littered with magazines. The TV was turned on, images flashing infront of her tired eyes. "Boy, am I tired," She groaned out, closing her eyes, "Koenma needs to take a vacation, he works us to hard."

She did not notice a second presence in the room. Nor did she stir when the sound of feet striding across the room echoed on the walls. A shadow fell across her face, that of a slim hand. The hand descended upon her, slowly coming to rest on her shoulder. She roused, her eyes blinking out the sleep, "Un?" She sat up straight, putting her hand on the slim one, "Wh-Who?"

"Hello, pretty little girl. My name's Midori. You have two choices; One, you come quietly, Two, I knock your brains out, then you come quietly."

Botan turned to gaze at her attacker. She had short, brown hair pulled back into a ponytail that ran down her back to her waist. A pair of intense, green eyes filled with the pain of a past that she did not care to divulge adorned her stirringly pretty face, she wore an green bandana tied pirate-style on her head with holes cut for her ears. She donned a kimono that was quite a deal shorter than most, it only came to her mid thighs. It was a brilliant shade of green like her bandana. She had a fluffy black cat tail that matched her ears. A pair of earrings hung from her ears, thick, golden hoops. She went by the name of Midori. When she walked there was a definite swing to her hips, a certain degree of pride in that swing, a lulling hum to her speech. Botan gapped at her, unsure as to what to do.

"You pick two then?" Midori grinned, an indescribable force radiating from her eyes, only able to be described as evil. "I can do that."

Botan screamed.

"Oger, report! Where is Hiei?" Koenma's voice trailed down the hall, losing its angry note as it went. "Oger!"

The hall was lit by a solitary bulb, which flickered often, seeing as it was on the verge of blowing. The only other light came from the cracks beneath doors, the offices of various apparitions, toiling their lives away for the good the of 'the paperwork'. It's a noble quest indeed, to file, sort, and alphabetize and/or sign and mail the paperwork. 'Tis is a job worth dying for, my dear friends. Or, so says Koenma. Nobody takes him seriously, thank God. The sounds of muffled laphing and general chatting added to Koenma's spoken sound, echoing in poor Oger's over-worked, under-paid ears. In a rather huffy manner he shuffled down the hall, a stack of paper tediously piled in his arms.

"C-Coming, Koenma, s-s-s-sir!" He panted, the effort of running and carrying to much for him, "One m-moment!"

"Hurry up!" Koenma sounded stressed out and tired. That makes two, Oger thought as he stood before the door, perplexed as to how he ought to go about opening the door. Finally he dared to ask for assistance:

"Could you, perhaps, open the door, sir?"

"Do it yourself! What am I, your butler?!"

"Koenma, sir! I c-can't open it because my hands are full!" Oger's tone was irritated and irked. Slowly the door creaked open, and Oger saw one of the most adorable characters of the show, little Koenma. He stood with his arms crossed, his face pulled into a scowl.

"Hiei never came into work today." Koenma said conversationally as he and Oger crossed the room, Koenma taking a seat on his throne-like chair with importance. Oger stood beside the chair, teetering on account of the paper. "Why do you sopose that is?"

"He doesn't come often, does he?" Oger said as his arms shook. "So its perfectly normal."

"But I can't find him anywhere. I attempted to contact Kurama; I called his house, pretending to be a fiend from school- no answer. Kuwabara and Yuskue are missing too."

"How odd." Oger agreed. He looked first to his right, then his left for a place to relieve his burden of a ton of paperwork. "Perhaps they all went somewhere together?"

"At almost ten o'clock at night?" Koenma asked, cocking an eyebrow. "Kurama is quite strict with his curfew."

"Maybe it wasn't that time when they left?" Oger suggested, correct as usual.

"Don't sass me!" Koenma cried, "But Botan is missing to, and she didn't get home until after they all disappeared!"

"Coincidence?"

Both winced as a deafening crash sounded in the hall, shaking the walls. They blinked at each other, perplexed, then rushed form the room. The hall was littered with people coming out their doors to see what had caused such a sound. Koenma barged his way through, coming to a stop infront of the records room. He reached for the doorknob. He leapt back into the people behind him as the door swung open on its own accord. The sight that met his eyes was horrifying: The shelves had been knocked over, papers strewn across the floor, ripped and torn. Flames shot up to the ceiling, and yet the sprinklers did not go off. In the center of the room stood a girl, barley visible.

Her face was pulled into the fiercest sort of glare, one Hiei would be proud of. She had delicate features, soft yellow eyes, rosy cheeks, and a thin mouth. She had a black kimono that reached to her ankles, and a yellow sash tied around her slim waist. Long blue hair with a slight curl to it hung to her midsection. "Hello there." She called caustically, her hand lifted to just above her head in salute. "Pathetic. Not a single guard in here, not one. I just waltzed in, totally unhindered, except by some demon, who apparently liked the looks of me; he stopped me to flirt. His body should be some where on the third floor, if theres anything left of him...Well, that is beside the point. You ought to know Good-bye!"

The flames thickened around her, hiding her from view. When they disbursed, she was gone. Koenma gapped at the room for a full minute until yelling out orders, "GET SOME WATER; YOU, THERE! AND YOU, CALL DEPARTMENT 124T69! THEY OUGHT OT HAVE SOME COPIES OF THE RECORDS, RIGHT?"

"Sir, I just got word from department 124T69, every copy of every record has just been destroyed by a female ice apparition!" Oger cried, shoving his way through the crowd.

"Excellent work, Aete. I am quite surprised with you, perhaps it is time I rewarded you for your faithful deeds."

"How so, master?"

"You may deal with Hiei. He's a bit difficult, so go straight into heavy torture. He has a sister, a delightful little Ice apparition by the name of Yukina. Use her; but only as a last resort, you understand?"

"Of course, Master OjiKiba. Where does the girl live?"

"No need. I just sent Hikari to fetch her, they'll get here momentarily."

"Is that wise? Are you sure her own personal emotions and memories won't get in the way of her doing this properly?"

"Do you dare question me?"

"NO!"

"You have an attitude problem, Aete. I am fully aware of your sister's past and her relationship with Hiei and Yukina. But this is a perfect time for me to test her. She will not fail me, Hikari is no fool."

"......I...I understand."

Yukina stooped over, her hands gently stroking a little rabbit's nose as it poked its head for its burrow. A smile graced her lips, her eyes lighting up with joy, making her no less pretty than an angel. Snow fell slowly around her in a swirling cloud. The rabbit's ears twitched and it ducked back within its lair with a frightened swoosh. "Huh? What ever did get into him?" Yukina murmured to herself as she straightened, then cast a jubilant gaze around her, her eyes not missing a detail of the forest. "Perhaps, a hunter?"

"Yukina," Said a female voice. The same one that had spoken to Hiei hours before. "Yukina!"

Yukina stared wide-eyed, her mouth opening in both surprise and horror, "Pardon? Who is it that calls my name? Please, show yourself."

"I assume you are well. It has been fifty years since the last time we had a chat."

"Do I know you, ma'am?" Yukina slowly turned, her hands fluttering up to her hair to straighten her ribbon, "Darn thing."

".......Forgive me, Yukina!"

"Whu-? Ahhhhh!"

Chapter four: Silent Infiltration Turns to War

A soft moan past through Hiei's chapped lips. His head nodded to one side, his cheek coming to rest on hard, cold metal that stung his skin. Sounds, foreign and harsh on his ears echoed painfully in his head, making his face harden into a wince, creased with pain. "Unhyf," Random nonsense words gargled from his mouth, foam spit at the edges of his lips. His body was racked with fever and sweat profusely; the after affects of the poison. A shiver passed through him and he coughed, a sharp, loud hack that shook his entire body. He attempted several times to speak his sister's name, for he sensed her pain. At the same time he wasn't fully conscious, therefore unable to come to the conclusion that he ought to try to save her. All he could do was suffer. And suffer he did for many hours, moaning rather pathetically, unable to stop himself. After some time part of the fog that trapped him in his suffering mind lifted, and he was able to distinguish sounds.

First of all, the comforting sound of rain pattering on a thatch roof eased his pain-filled, fogged mind. The sound of fingers drumming on stone, nails rapping on stone, more like it, annoyed him. Satiny, lulling humming also could be made out in the corner of the room, the same place where the rapping was. Hiei's biceps clenched under his skin as he fought to move his arms. He was unable to, however, and it took him a full minute to realize he was strapped down with leather straps, one across his chest and upper arms, one across each of his wrists and his ankles, and one across his legs. He was unable to move at all, just his head. "Kur...a...ama.." Hiei groaned thickly in his sleep.

"Silly boy. Your beloved redhead ningen will join you shortly." Aete's voice crooned, causing Hiei to mumble in his sleep, saying Kurama's name once more, but this time clearly adding:

"Shut up, witch."

Kurama's face could not be any whiter if he were made of fresh snow. As he gazed upward at the sky, into the raining night air, he felt as if he had swallowed an ice cube. It sent shivers up and down his spine, goose-bumps flaming up on his skin. He shivered and weakly clasped his hand over the front of his jacket, forcing it shut, for it had blown open. Locks of his hair blew in his face and he brushed them away with his other hand.

The castle certainly wasn't friendly. It had an aura that could be characterized as EVIL. The main bulk of the castle rested on a grassy bank of the Shukumei river. The rest of the castle was built into the river, the dungeon completely submerged in the blackened water. Three thick, high towers hung above the castle. One in the center and two on each side, tall and imposing. Few windows decorated the walls, only on the tower's sides were there windows; stained glass pictures featuring gory battle scenes. The castle's wall was made chiefly of red-brown brick, coated with reddish smears at the bottom, evidence of the battles that took place in the early Autumn that year. Kurama stared at them, disgusted and revolted. Yuskue put a comforting hand on his shoulder, giving it a friendly squeeze, "Hey, man," He spoke gruffly, "We got this thing in the bag. Go in, save the damsel in distress, beat the baddie, scram, right?"

"We don't have a prayer against OjiKiba. We save Hiei and flee with our tails between our legs," Kurama murmured, a note of sadness in his voice. "OjiKiba won't stop here, however. He'll be back to ruin our lives. We should flee to some secluded place in Nigenkai and hide. No one will get hurt that way."

"No way!" Kuwabara cried, raising his fists in disagreement, "We can't let that trash threaten our loved ones! We gotta punish him!"

Kurama snorted, "Punish OjiKiba? He's at least 100x Toguro's strength. We wouldn't land a single attack!"

"Hey, man, calm down." Yuskue said soothingly, his yes glinting, "Chill, okay? We'll take what comes to us, head on. If it happens to be OjiKiba, we'll take him head on too."

"Fools," Kurama muttered, shaking his head and smiling, "Stubborn mules."

Yuskue flashed him a big grin, and a thumbs up, his manner causing Kurama to clam down. Kuwabara's grin was fleeting, and it became a frown as he gazed at the open gate of the castle, "The dude knew we was coming. He let the door open for us."

"Not good." Yuskue agreed, his chin lifting as he scanned the towers for life, "Well, best get going."

"Yeah." Kurama swallowed the terror that threatened to engulf him. Not for himself, no, for his friends. "I have a feeling that we're about to walk into a trap."

"Well, if we do, we'll just have to cry and beg for mercy. Then, when they're off guard, we attack and beat the tar out of them!" Yuskue speculated.

"Your plan sucks, to put it nicely," Kuwabara informed him.

"You got a better one, man?!"

"Kurama's the smart one. Ask him."

"Well," Kurama blinked several times before answering. "Well, we . . . . How do you put it? Kick butt?"

"Midori."

Hiei stiffened as Aete spoke. Her voice struck a dull, pulsing fear deep within his chest. He felt her hand, soft and caressing, on his face and he winced. "Get off me, you hag!" He growled, jerking his face from her touch. He immediately regretted it as a spasm of pain shot up his sore neck, and Aete's 'soft' hand came crashing down on his cheek, stars erupting infront of his now-open eyes.

"Hag, am I? I'll make you pay, child. Ooo am I gonna make you pay!" She spat, slapping him repeatedly. WHAP. WHAP. WHAP. WHAP.

"Like that hurts!" Hiei mocked. This, too, he regretted. WHAP!

She spun on her heel, striding from his visage, yelling, "Midori!" When she returned, Midori was walking at her heels, looking thoroughly miffed. Midori stopped dead as she spotted Hiei, then laphed, high and girlishly.

"So THAT'S the cat that Hikari dragged in. Well, he's a catch, eh?"

"Hn." Hiei closed his eyes in irritation as she came closer to inspect him, her face an inch from his, her breath hot on his fevered face. Hiei fought again against his bonds to escape her relentless stare. "Why is it all you hags have to be so annoying? Like little insects, begging to be swatted."

"Aye. You seem to need to learn some manners. I can teach you that. Pity you got such an adorable face. Ah, well, you know how it goes." Midori spoke, a note of excitement in her voice. "Lets see, should we untie him, Aete?"

"What for?" She asked, coming to join Midori, "So he can fight back? No thanks."

"Nun. We're gonna zap his energy straight from him. He'll be to weak to resist."

Aete heaved a sigh, her finger tracing the shape of Hiei's face, her sharp nail cutting into his skin. Hiei's eyes opened to gaze into her's. "If that's the way you want it... so long as he screams. That's all part of the plan, right?"

"Plan?" Hiei asked huskily, his yes only half open. Fatigue hit him like a hammer, sucking the caustic tone from his voice.

"Yes," Aete's brilliant yellow eyes held his captivated, as did her cunning voice. Hiei's mouth hung open slightly, his eyes wide and empty. "Kurama, Yuskue Urameshi, and Kuzuma Kuwabara have entered the castle. An ambush is waiting for them next door. In order to get them to come down here, they need to know you're here for sure. That's why they came, to save you. So, to let them know, they're going to hear you scream in pain. That'll bring them running." Her eyes closed, her long lashes resting on her cheeks.

Midori's slim fingers sought the bonds, unclasping them from the metal table. Hiei felt his body slide, but had no desire to prevent himself from falling. He suddenly felt weak, unable to focus nor motivate himself to put any effort into anything. Midori's hand wrapped around his arm, pulling his putty-like body upright, forcing him to stand with surprising vigor. Hiei's feet slipped beneath him, and he fell limply to the floor, his cheek smacking the stone floor hard. Pain shot through his body, a gradual whine coming from his lips. He cursed himself. How could he be so weak?! Aete had somehow drained every last ounce of his energy for him, he couldn't even stand.

"Get away. . . . From me!" Hiei growled falteringly as Midori's hand once more reached for him. His hand lifted to shove hers away, but he found that even that was to difficult for him. He was at their mercy. Defenseless. It made Hiei's stomach churn in disgust, sickened at the very thought. Midori's hand closed over his mouth, Hiei's eyes widening in sheer surprise as the shadow of a dagger once more crossed in his visage.

"Now behave and shut up," Aete crooned, absolute joy at seeing Hiei so defeated and silent, his spirit broken and his attitude drained. He was a mere child now. "Or once more fall victim to this knife."

Hiei's chin descended in the direction of his chest, a fraction of an inch. A nod.

"Good choice. Now stand."

The entrance hall was lit by two torches that were crudely placed in brackets by the door at the far end of the room. A dull red carpet lain on the stone floor, a matching tapestry on the wall. There were no windows. At first Yuskue assumed the place was empty, until he spotted several forms hidden in the shadows beside the door. He nudged Kurama with his elbow and nodded at the figures, his face void. Kurama signaled to Kuwabara, and the three made their way cautiously over to the figures.

"Hey, could you tell me where we are? Kurama seems to have gotten us lost. He isn't right in the head, you see." Yuskue waved at them when they were a yard or so away.

Kurama gave his hair that-all-to-familiar sweep with his hand, the pulling his hand back infront of him, holding the blood-red rose loosely between his index and middle fingers. He pulled the rose to his left shoulder, slowly with the skill he had gained by constant usage and practice, only to whip it down to his right hip, calling out, "Rose whip!" The thorn-coated vine fell to the ground at his feet, the thicker end in his hand, serving as the handle. Soft, red rose petals scattered around them, floating down in swirling bunches.

Yuskue's smile turned into a surly frown as his fingers extracted several petals from his jet-black hair, and brushing some more off his shoulders with distaste. "Baka Bara muchiutsu [stupid rosewhip]," He muttered in displeasure. Kurama chuckled softly at Yuskue's annoyance, amusement sparkling in his green eyes.

"Show yourselves." He asked, calm and cool as usual. The figures made no move to reveal their identities. "Now, how can we play if you don't come out?" Kurama coaxed lightly, his tone having a mocking ring to it.

"I doubt you'll be so cocky when I'm done with you, fox boy." An angry male's voice snapped from within the darkened corner, "In fact, you'll cease to be at all."

"No, Zurui. It would be unwise for you to fight him. After all, he is of a similar species, no? You're attacks would do little to break his body." A cool male voice spoke to the first voice, his tone easy and relaxed.

"I shall fight him." Said yet a third voice, "He is quite a capable opponent, don't you think? It will be... A pleasure to fight such a cunning nigen. I have seen him fight; he is not one to reckon with."

"I say it looks like a girl." Zurui spoke again, laphing at Kurama's miffed look, "Look at that long, red hair and those gorgeous green eyes. Hmmm, if I was looking for a mate...."

General laphter added to Zurui's mocking laph. Kurama bristled, his eyes closing in forced calm, his chin nodding down, his face hidden in shadow. A frightening smile placed itself on his face, and he lifted his face, his eyes opening sharply, burning with a desire to kill. "Heh. Why don't you come out here and try to win me over, Zurui?"

"Fine then, kitty." Zurui answered pleasantly, emerging from the shadows. He had icy-blue hair that fell to his shoulders, topped with a pair of black fox ears. Scars from past conflicts adorned his young face, one in particular stood out; a long line going across his left cheek. He was almost a foot or so taller than Kurama, with a rather scrawny frame. He wore baggy white pants that came to the lower half of his calves, made of a cloth foreign to Kurama, a red sleeveless shirt with a wide rip in the front, revealing a muscular chest, and wooden sandals. His past was easy to read from the state of his garments, which were shabby and worn. A certain maliciousness lay dormant in his eyes. He did not have an easy life, not in the least. He was an orphan, abandoned at the age of two when his parents fled from the village years before. But that's another story, one unnecessary and having little relevance to our current tale. When he spotted Kurama, his eyes narrowed in cautiousness, his mouth tightened. The Yuko's hand causally trailed down to a short sword that hung loosely on his right hip. His fingertips caressed the sword's hilt. His mind was already devising a plan of how to slay both Kurama and the others.

"Go on then, flatter me." Kurama growled, his voice harsh to the Yuko's sensitive ears.

He spoke smoothly with an almost-Irish accent ."Would you mind if I did so with my blade? I'm not so good with words."

Chapter five: Love and Duty Clash

"Unnn..." Yukina put a hand to her eyes and let out a sigh. The room in which they locked her up was located in the center tower, at the very top. It was a small, circular room with a dense pile of fresh straw on one side to serve as a bed. In this little nest Yukina rested, trying to clear her head. Beside the straw was a wooden bowl filled with pure, tasteless water. She had eyed it; her throat burned, but she was very aware that she was in an unknown place, and everything served as a threat. It was pitch black, an oil burning lamp sat cold in the corner, long since put out. For a moment, Yukina slumped against the hard wall, and closed her eyes as though in defeat. Then she snapped back up, posture like that of a young tree, straight and tall. Her eyes flashed dangerously, as if she had been tricked. No, they would get no sign of weakness from her. Whoever they were. They would not torture her as Toguro did. Never. "Why don't you show yourself?" She cried at the empty room, anger sparking red to her cheeks, "I can sense your presence, who ever you are... Confront me and tell me the meaning of my abduction!"

"I shall remain hidden," She spoke as though to a dear friend. Yukina eyed the wall directly across from her with suspicion, "But I will allow you the latter. We currently house a... friend... of yours, he goes by the name of Hiei ."

"What have you done to him?!" Yukina snapped in disgust, her hands balling into fists at her sides, her eyes flashing with the mastery that Hiei's also held. "Release us, or suffer at his sword's blade! I warn you, he is not one to anger."

"Yukina, I am perhaps the only one who knows the full extent of Hiei's power."

"Who are you?"

"Do you remember that day...? Forget it, child. I have no need to reveal my identity to you. Perhaps I ought to do away with you now, it would be a mercy kill. I promise I will, as soon as dear little Hiei is finished. . . And Botan. You are of little relevance to this quest, and will be eliminated as soon as your purpose is fulfilled."

"Please, let Hiei go. I don't know what you want, nor who you are. But I know that tone of voice. You plan to kill or hurt him, and I won't have it! Let him go, I'm sure you can get along without him." Her bottom lip trembled, her eyes closed, a solitary tear making its way down her cheek. It fell softly to the floor and rolled over to the other side of the room. She shook her head slowly, a sob arising deep within her. She swallowed it. "Please, I beg of you." Her eyes flew open, her mouth drawing in a tight line. She stood abruptly, tears falling from her face, clattering to the floor. "Please!"

"I must go now."

"Don't you dare flee from me!" Yukina took a step towards the other side of the room, her feet making a gentle TAK on the stone floor. "Tell me who you are."

"Judging by your hysterical reaction to my words, you cannot bare the knowledge of my identity, just yet. But you will know, rest assured, you will know."

"Don't leave me here. The least you could do is stay here, and tell me why you're doing this!"

"I owe you nothing, little girl."

"Stop!"

Yukina watched as the oak door infront of her swung open for a moment, then slammed shut. The sound of hurried footsteps on stone stairs echoed behind the locked door. Sighing once more, Yukina fell to her knees to gather the precious tear stones, then grind them to dust in her delicate hands. Anger burned intensely in those normally pacifistic eyes. Hate mixed in with it, and Yukina found herself in a sea of emotion that Hiei also was drowning in. She felt their souls connect on some sort of spiritual field, giving strength to one another. She bowed her head, and murmured, "I pray you will live, Hiei. Do not give in to their commands!" Yukina felt a flow of courage seep into her very soul, like a swirling bowl of hot cocoa, it gave her a feeling of warm happiness. "......I will not let them harm you!!!"

"You called, Master?"

"Ah, yes. Would you do the honors of taking care of Botan? She may prove to be useful."

"Master, may I ask you a question?"

"Yes?"

"I overheard Aete speaking to Hiei-"

"Have you been eavesdropping?"

"To be frank, yes."

"You were listening because you care for Hiei. You were listening to him, and happened to overhear Aete telling him about how we plan to capture his friends, correct?"

"Yes."

"Hikari, I'm ashamed of you."

"Master... Forgive my weakness. My emotions have gotten the best of me."

"The answer is no. That plan is not what is to happen. We need Hiei to keep quiet, so as the nigens do not hear him. Reverse psychology. Hiei's fool pride would never let him scream, and if he knew his screams would endanger his team mates, he'd be even less likely to scream."

"Oh. I don't think he'll fall for it."

"I like that about you, Hikari. You can be stupidly honest some times."

"... Mm..."

"No, do not worry. You go take care of Hiei. Tell Aete that she may go tend to Botan and Yukina. I think it is time you did your duty, and hearkened to my orders."

Hiei put a hand to the wall, attempting to hold himself up. Midori put a hand out to help him. Hiei blinked at it, then inhaled sharply and spat. Midori jerked her wet hand away, then slapped him with the other. WHAK. Hiei lifted his hand from the wall, letting his shoulder lean against it, then gazed at Midori. His body relaxed against the stone, his hand setting on his smarting cheek.

Midori crossed her arms, her manner sharp and angered. She looked at him, quite perplexed at his sudden calmness. Had he perhaps given up already, and was choosing to stop fighting and consent to this? No, he surely hadn't, of that Midori was sure. The gentleness had come from him psychically transferring his bravery and fight to his sister so that she might resist, with the use of his jagon. Hiei had his pride to do that for him, but flower child Yukina did not.

Aete turned suddenly and whisked from the room in a huffy fashion, as though annoyed. Midori let her arms fall to her sides as she continued to stare at Hiei, who stared unflinchingly back. His breath was hot and deep, his chest rose and fell in systematic rhythm. Midori's eyes closed for a moment.

"Heh," Hiei murmured, "You blinked."

"I most certainly did not." Midori answered briskly, her tone almost playful, "Perhaps it is you who blinked, but your pride deluded your brain sensors and misread the information, turning it backwards."

"I have no idea what you just said." Hiei said huskily, his mouth up turning in a half-grin, a gentle chuckle in his throat, "Perhaps you meant to confuse me on purpose, in order to change the subject."

"It's raining." Midori turned her face to the ceiling, the rain pitter-pattering on the roof became more distinct on their ears. "I love rain. . . . ."

Two things occurred to Hiei at once. One: Aete had said they were in the dungeon. Dungeons were typically located in the cellars of castles. If that were true, then why could they hear the rain so clearly? Therefore, they must be somewhere in the top of the castle, not only that but the plan that Aete had told him was bogus, seeing as they weren't in a dungeon. Two: Midori had lifted her face to the ceiling; her neck was suddenly very venerable at the moment. Hiei's fingers gave a lusty twitch at his side. He could so easily strangle her before Aete got back.

Why am I hesitating? Hiei asked himself as his hand remained at his side. Midori looked back at him, her forehead creased in a frown. "Whats with you? Oh, the whole fact that I plan to torture you until it gets through that thick skull of yours that OjiKiba is a far better master that Koenma and that you ought to become one of us? If that bothers you, well, don't take it personal. I like you, Hiei. You're prideful stance, cold demeanor, and evil smile... But you gotta make a choice. And if pain is necessary to help you reach that conclusion, so be it. I'll be glad to work with you when this is all over."

"Hold it." Hiei said sharply, his voice gruff and boyish, "Who the heck is OjiKiba, eh? I've never heard of him in my whole dern life. And why should I join him?"

"Oh, they haven't told you yet?" Midori laphed, her voice high and silvery, the back of her hand covering her mouth as she giggled, "You mean to tell me that you've been here almost seven hours and you still don't know why?"

"Hn." Hiei folded his arms, a wounded look on his face. As if he found it offensive that she'd laph at him. She was the hag who assumed he knew everything she failed to mention. A spasm of pain shot up his side and he inhaled sharply, the sound of ribs cracking emanating in his ears, "Ow. Ow. Ow." He winced, massaging his sore side gently with his fingertips. Slow, gentle circles. "That smarts..."

"You took far to much of his energy, Midori, far to much. You took some of his self awareness. Now he acts as though he's a twelve year old ningen. Peh. You can go, Midori. I'll take over. Aete is tending to Yukina now, if you'd like to help. Hiei, I'm surprised at you, thinking if you flirted with her like that, she'd in any way render herself to your will."

Hiei jerked his body from the wall, forcing himself to stand without its aid. He spaced his feet evenly to properly distribute his weight. His fists tightened at his sister's name, and he let out an intimidating growl. The figure in the doorway was leaning against the frame, her arms folded, her legs crossed, a careless air about her. Hiei's crimson eyes widened at her, his arms falling to his sides weakly, his mouth hanging open slightly. "H-Hikari----!"

Hikari had short black hair that curled around the edges of her face, a black that made the night sky look white. She had soft violet eyes with long lashes, the light gently reflecting in them. She was a bit short for a Yoku, only five and three-fourths feet tall. She wore a long, light blue silk kimono that reached her ankles, with slits on each side that went up to her thighs. A thick purple sash was tied around her slim waist, in a bow at the back. The yellow fox ears atop her head both had a black line down the backs of them, a birth mark of sorts. Her tail also has streaks of black in it. Her lips never upturned in a smile, at least not one of genuine joy. Not since her childhood. Around her left ankle was a thin, gold chain, on which hung an Ice Apparition's Tearstone. She had one solitary blemish on her face, a thin scar just above her right eyebrow.

She walked cautiously over to Hiei, her movements sharp yet graceful. She put her fingers beneath his chin and snapped his gaping mouth shut. Hiei goggled at her, his eyes flickering oddly. She stooped and her lips brushed his forehead briefly. Her hand, falling from his chin, arced up behind her and came crashing down on the side of Hiei's face. Caught off guard, Hiei fell to the floor. He felt pain explode from his broken ribs, his eyes once more closing in a grimace. His breathing became agonizingly shallow, his thoughts racing like a hurricane. Hikari bent her knees, poising herself above him in a squatting pose, her elbows resting on her knees, her chin resting on her fists.

"I assume you aren't in the mood to talk?" She asked him, one hand falling from beneath her chin, coming to rest on his back, gently stroking him. "I missed you, Sensei."

"I... Doubt... It... Guessing from your warm welcome," Hiei spoke hoarsely, his tone friendly, "I thought you had died."

"Nope. I bet that disappoints you, Hiei." Her hand lay still on his shoulder. "It would be your fault if I had."

"I was a young fool, you know that. To arrogant to see my weaknesses."

"Are you trying to tell me you've changed?"

"No. I'd be lying." Hiei smiled; not the demonic smile he often wore, but the friendly smile he often gave Kurama. But even that did not come close to the degree of love and respect in this smile. "You, however, seemed to have matured. It's a miracle."

Hikari's eyes danced with amusement, though her lips stayed a tight line. "You can't help it when you live the life of an assassin."

"Pity." Hiei murmured, "Is that what you want? Have I taught you nothing?"

"Nothing that can help me now." She said caustically, lifting her hand from his shoulder with disgust in her movements. "And I never suggested you pity me. I do not feel the need to be pitied, if I did I'd ask." Her hand trailed up to the back of her neck, her eyes glistening. "I do not wish for your pity, Hiei. Do not misunderstand me." Hikari spoke coldly, her eyes instantaneously fogging over, as though closing off Hiei's door into her soul. "Quite the contrary. I ought to pity you, my delightful little friend. The Forbidden Child will have his work cut out for him to remain without tears. 'Tis master OjiKiba's wish that the hardened apparition's tear stones be brought to him when we're done."

"You were always the morally sophisticated one." Hiei glanced at the place where Midori had stood. She had long since left, though her sent was still in the room. Hiei sniffed suspiciously. Hikari stared at him, her face void, until she spoke, referring to his smelling:

"Oh, yes. Midori is still here, spying on me so she can snitch to OjiKiba." She informed him with a calm air, "That is irrelevant, seeing as I could care less what she does."

Chapter six: The Pain of the Rose

Kurama's eyes narrowed into cunning slits with a smear of green in the center. His mouth drew into an apprehensive grin, as though a Nigenkai boy preparing for a baseball game. Zurui's face took up all of his attention at the moment, Hiei and all his other troubles gone from his mind. All he focused on was the battle at hand, for he was painfully aware of this young Yoku's power, this would be the hardest battle yet. Far greater than the war he waged with Karasu during the tournament. He felt his muscles tense up, tightening under the stress of standing so rigidly.

Kurama allowed himself to relax, releasing the strain. He drew in to deep breaths, calming his emotions, willing them away. A fighter did not fight with his emotions, but his spirit. And a broken spirit was not one to use. Kurama lifted a hand, his fingers giving a suggestive twitch in his direction, "Come on."

Zurui cocked an eyebrow at that, at Kurama's sudden change of attitude. Before his sass was strained, littered with anger and sorrow. But now, this seemed like a worthy advisory. "Will do, Kitten. Just one moment, I need to know how you want to be laid to rest, cremated or buried on a grassy knoll?" Zurui asked, the left side of his mouth pulling up in a cocky grin, giving him a comical appearance.

"Enough talk." Kurama hissed through gritted teeth, his eyes flashing with the spark of a true Yoku in his clearly ningen eyes. The light of a Yoku had not been seen in him since the Dark Tournament, almost seven months before. Now it burned intensely on his pacifist face, giving him a demonic look. Oddly enough, it fit him, in a certain way that cannot be described in words. But it fit none the less.

Botan's scream echoed off the walls. Hiei bristled at the sound of it, his face chalk white. She uttered yet another of the screeches, her pain obvious. Hiei lifted his face to Hikari's, his unspoken words somehow understood immediately by her.

"No, she is not to die. She is instrumental in our plans." Hikari said blandly, as though unaware of what she spoke, "If something were to happen to her. . ."

Hiei's face did not portray his inward contemplations. His mind swirled with the thoughts that he dare not utter within Midori's hearing range. Instead of what he thought, he said the next thing that came to mind: "Kurama is also conducive to this. . . Plan of yours, am I correct in this assumption?"

"Perhaps. . . But that ningen is so easily dealt with in this manner, I hate to go through the messy process of turning him into a Zombie like Zurui or Aete. An OjiKiba lover."

"Hn."

"Don't be so surly, Hiei. I will allow him to live, if it bothers you that much. I will let him be my slave. He can help me with my hair, he appears to have much experience in that field, no?" Hikari felt her heart tear at the sound of her own voice, so soft and cunning, sounding so truthful... She said such horrible things, all for the sake of lowering her Sensei's morale. It was horrible and wrong. But it was not she that controlled her words, not really.

"Do not fool with him, Hikari. Kurama is not one to play with. I know, many a time was I victim of his whip's thorns in a spar. The feeling of those suckers cutting into your flesh. . . Not a nice sensation." Hiei warned sincerely.

"You forget, I was trained by the best. I would kill him before he ever drew his silly rose."

"Madame, the first move is yours to execute. Do not miss, it would be a shame to die after missing, you know." Zurui mocked, soft as always. Kurama's cheeks burned scarlet, his eyes flashing with a murderer's hunger.

"You know, I really hate people who live their lives in arrogance, gloating their big mouths off, but don't have the skills to back it up." Kurama answered tartly.

"And that's soposed to offend me? You don't have any idea what sort of strength I have and already you have a cocky air as if its - whats the phrase? - 'in the bag'."

"As Hiei has always said, it doesn't take and idiot to realize he's fighting an idiot."

"Takes one to know one, kitty."

"Call me kitty again, I dare you!"

"Kit-" Zurui never finished his mockery. Kurama, in a hazy cloud of rage, attacked with everything he had. Nobody called him a girl. He was sick and tired of the immaturity of such fool comments. Some one had to pay; who better than this sassy little Yoku? A rush of adrenaline pulsed into his system, sending him that extra boost of energy that made his movements faster and, in truth, more painful. How can one describe Kurama's attack? Because of his rage, he got ahead of himself, to eager to tear flesh. Yes, even Kurama had fits of rage like Hiei. The stress of the past weeks of torture and grief, of agony and guilt, of sorrow and fear deluded his thought process, and he miss-interpreted his foe's position and reaction. He missed, Zurui easily dodging such an amateur's assault. Kurama was barely able to stop himself from running into the wall, rage at his own stupidity making him cry out in frustration.

"I cannot believe you are the dreaded Yoku bandit of Makai. More like the unskilled, inexperienced, incompetent novice of Ningenkai. You are a disgrace and I will put you out of your misery." Zurui jeered. "Shall I do it mercifully quick, and hastened to spill the blood running in that soft neck of yours, or shall I drag it out and show you your weakness before sending you to the next world?!"

"Do as you wish, Zurui. I do not pretend, however, that you will succeed in either of those plots. I myself had been thinking that just as you said it. Perhaps we think alike, nn?" Kurama said softly, turning to face Zurui, a cocky grin spreading across his face. "I have fought far more battles than you, I am quite sure of myself. You... I shall see if you are worthy of the title of a Yoku. Now, no more talk. It is time to do battle."

"No more talk..." Zurui echoed. "Yes, no more talk..."

Hiei did not know what he could possibly say or do in this situation. He desperately wanted to find his sister, and to get out of here, but he was utterly weak and if he made one wrong move, Hikari would kill him. Of this there was no doubt. He had taut her well, perhaps to well. She was well aware of his fighting style, and what he was capable of doing. For this, and for the fact that he had no energy, he was at a standstill with himself. ". . . . Kicho---." How could he finish that sentence? He had no right to ask her to help him save his sister. None at'tall. But she, too, loved Yukina, would she not feel guilt? Then again, he had caught a whiff of his sister's sent on Hikari's blade. That in itself sickened him. It was she who captured Yukina. But why?! Why would little KichoHitori do such horrible deeds?!

The woman before him remained silent, her brilliant violet eyes surveying him with icy coldness. At last she spoke, her tone flat, "I know that you are aware that we are not in a dungeon. But as for the plan . . . . . It goes as my sister said. You will follow me. And you will do it calmly and you will not attempt an escape, nor will you speak a word to me. Yukina is, as you plainly know, at our mercy."

Again, he nodded in response, such a gentle, meek movement that Hiei winced after doing it. He was reduced to an obedient little boy!

Chapter seven: Memories of the Soul and Contemplations of the Heart

Hiei was led down a narrow staircase, his arms bound behind him with chains. His look was nothing short of acidic, his eyes narrowed into slits, his mouth in a tight line. Hikari walked behind him, muttering softly to herself, describing the caste's layout for Hiei's benefit. Hiei dully noted the fact that she did not mention any exits; she obviously was not planning to help him escape as he had anticipated in vain. She did not owe him anything anyway, he was at fault of her pain these past fifty years, her slavery to OjiKiba. He was such a fool. "You know this place well," He spoke grudgingly, toneless.

"You can't help but memorize all the twists and turns in a place that you are forced to dwell in, cooped up for forty-nine years." She answered, just as without-tone as Hiei.

"Hn." Hiei's mind wandered listlessly, with no particular aim. He had sensed his growing weakness for some time, and the embarrassing moments of softness brought scarlet to his cheeks. His allowing himself to fall to the floor... his wincing at the pain in his ribs... his hesitating in killing Midori. That pestered him the most, he usually jumped at the chance to seek revenge. He was a very vengeful person. But he had let her live, after injuring and mocking him! "Why aren't you dead, exactly?" He asked bluntly. This frankness did not seem to disturb Hikari at all, though she took her time in answering.

"...... OjiKiba spared me because I begged. I fell to my knees and sobbed at his feet.... I feared him, feared him terribly because I was alone. I once told you that I loathed being alone... You told me I ought not show infirmity. But when OjiKiba caught me, I showed every ounce of weakness in me. You left me to die, Hiei."

"But, I . . . . ." Hiei stopped. She did not have to allow him to apologize; he did not in the least deserve the chance. He was trash. She had fallen victim to her own self... He wasn't there to stop her... protect her as he had sworn to do when he became her sensei. Memories swirled within his conscious.. plaguing him.

Flash Back

It had snowed maliciously for two entire weeks, its relentless winds, icy and harsh, blowing trees from their roots. The Ice apparitions fled to their homes to sit next to hearths, warm and happy. The temperature was down to –96 degrees. Not that the village people minded; they were, after all, ice demons. But one boy stood rigidly in the outskirts of the cozy village, his back against a tree, his arms folded across his chest, his eyes closed, his mouth pulled into a tight line. He inhaled, held it deep within him, then exhaled, his breath freezing into a foggy cloud around his face. His young body shivered slightly in the sharp wind, a look of something like pain crossing his prideful face. Ice crystals froze on the tips of his black strands of hair, further irritating him. A steady shower of snowflakes fell from the cruel gray sky, relentlessly fighting him, as though in war with his spirit. But the adolescent did not give in.

Not a complaint was uttered from his lips, not a cough or sneeze from him. He just continued to stand, keeping an eye on the closest hut, that of his precious sister. He'd never admit it, but he felt a wave of longing deep, deep within his soul. Why did fate deal him such a hand? Doomed to live in his beloved sister's shadow, hated and feared by his family, never to know a mother's embrace, nor a father's reassuring pat? Had not his sister gotten theses things? And a home, food, clothes. . . . Hiei smirked in spite of himself, he had been the one to stitch his simple attire. Not bad, considering. Subconsciously, Hiei brought his pin-pricked fingers to his mouth, putting them to his lips, his tongue running over the rivets in his skin, the uneven ruts where the needle had stabbed him. Yukina was so deserving to what she had, so sweet and loving. . .

He, however, did not deserve her life. Yet he longed for it. A chance to stop thieving food from windowsills and unguarded homes. A chance to live the life a young boy such as himself ought to live. "But," he mused to himself, "I'm no boy. I am, by custom, old enough to marry. I've lost my chance for the simple life." This thought did not bother him as it had before. His rebellious spirit would not have lasted long in a house, he would have broken away. His hands were not made for building house, no, they were made to hurt. To maim. To kill and plunder and cause havoc. "...As I ought to be doing now. . . . . Not hiding behind a tree, watching my sister live safely and happily. Maybe I should leave, Yukina is secure enough." Hiei's chin nodded juttingly to himself, as though he had decided. "Sleep well, dear Yukina. . . ."

He turned on his heel quickly, lest he change his mind, his hands seeking the warmth of his pockets. The wind roared its strife, unleashing its hate on him, blowing tempestuously in his face, cutting him with ice shards, small droplets of blood running down his pale cheeks. He hadn't an idea of where he was going, perhaps just far away from the village that he stopped those self-pitying thoughts.

He found himself heading to a secluded river bend nearly thirty miles from the village. Trees, their branches frozen stiff, shadowed the river's coursing water, which seemed to be the only other thing that moved other than Hiei's beating heart as he stood on the bank, staring at the rushing river. Gradually, the snowstorm settled to dull breezes and large, slowly descending flakes. Hiei turned from the water, unsure of what to do with himself. The cold did not bother him much, he was half Ice Apparition, but the fire demon in him needed movement in order to keep the blood pumping.

So he sent about making an igloo, packing snow into blocks and stacking them in the shelter of a tree. He did it with no child enthusiasm, like children of Nigenkai would when building and igloo. He merely did it to stay busy. Yet a certain feeling of satisfaction, a mortal emotion uncommon to him, swelled in his chest as he gazed at his house, which was far bigger than it needed to be.

"Hn."

That night he lay awake, listening to the sounds of wolves' howls outside his home, if you could call it that. He felt, on a certain level, the same as they; lonely and hungry, striving to be strong so as not to be weak like their prey, and to become prey themselves. Hiei had his back resting on the far wall of his ice house, his arms folded across his chest as they usually were. Slowly fatigue got its hold on him, his shoulders sagging as though under terrible strain, his amber-red eyes closing, allowing sleep to take him to his dreams, no matter how terrible or how blissful, at the moment, he'd take any. His chest rose and fell in a calm rhythm.

A screamed awoke him in the early hours of the morning. Like an animal, he awoke instantly with a full understanding of the circumstances and capable of acting out his reaction. So utterly unlike ningens, who take a full ten minutes to awaken their minds. Hiei was up in an instant, out his door in another. Outside, he spotted the screamer.

The river had swelled with snow-water during the night, making its rushing waters nearly five times as rapid. Hiei at once dove into the icy waters, not stopping to gawk at the face that had just slipped beneath the waters. His body slipped beneath the river water, the sharp ice-cold temperature hit him like a truck, causing him to wince, his clothing clinging to his skin. He began to swim downward towards the riverbed, his muscular arms pulling him with hard strokes. His eyes opened in the clear water, something reflecting in the liquid-red of his irises. The frame of a girl. Bubbles emitted from his lips at the sight of her sinking body.

The girl floated just above the bottom, apparently unconscious. Her body curled over, her arms and legs brushing the sand and pebbles. Thick, black hair hid her face, her plain yellow kimono tightly wrapped around her as the undercurrent tugged at her. Hiei gave a particularly hard kick and reached one hand out, his fingers grasping her kimono sash, pulling her to him. He securely tucked her under his arm a kicked off from the rock-strewn bottom. He had no idea that she'd be so heavy. She seemed small enough, a frail little thing on the point of death. But now, as he swam for the surface, for the splendid air that gave life to his lungs, she seemed to drag him down. Fool! How could a young female hinder him? She wasn't much younger than he, true; however, but no weight was to much for the ever-perfect Hiei. How could a sparrow such as she possibly make him consider that he may not make it? No, he did not fear that he wouldn't make it. Oh, no! Hiei, even at that young age, was not one to fear the afterlife's consequences. Who cared if he spent eternity burning in his own sin? Not Hiei, the mighty, the perfect, the unbeatable one. Do no misunderstand, he wizened up, sort of, as he grew, but at the moment, in the pride of his youth, Hiei couldn't possibly get any more big-headed.

Hiei's head broke the surface, beads of water sparkling in his jet-black hair. He let out the breath that he had been holding deep within his chest, a slow, drawling sigh, his eyes closing as a dense wave of water, mixed with tasteless foam, surged over him. He pulled the girl to him, lifting her face from the water and holding his ear to her lips. Nothing, not a sign of life in the ashen face of the girl. Her raven hair curled around her cheeks, fringing her delicate eyes, nose and mouth. Hiei cocked his head to the side in a curious manner, something passing in those thoughtful, yet reproachful eyes.

"Wake up," He commanded softly, his lips inches from her soft cheek. "Wake up! I did not go through all the trouble of saving you for you to up and die in my arms."

"P-Pardon. . . ?" Her face gave a shivering twitch as her eyes blinked open, a brilliant purple. "Who, may I ask, are you?" She pulled away from him; or, attempted to, but his arms stayed around her, lest she slip once more into the polar waters. Her forehead knitted in a frown as she relaxed.

"Shut up, kid. You just had a brush with death, I suggest you calm yourself." Hiei informed her, the ever-polite gentleman. He swam to the bank, gracelessly shoving her onto the snow. She pulled herself into a crouching position as Hiei grasped the bank and heaved himself up; she did not offer a hand.

She did not utter a complaint as he scooped her up and carried her into the igloo, where he set her down against the back wall. She curled up in a ball, shivering and teeth-chattering, her arms around her knees, her head tucked up against her chest. Hiei inspected her closer, with his skilled eyes that were meant to scrutinize his opponent, not some freezing girl.

Her short black hair fell to her chin, now clinging to the sides of her face in soppy curls. Her fox ears hung limp against her head, dripping water and twitching occasionally. Her eyes closed, frost freezing her lashes into clumps. Hiei put a hand on the igloo's wall, holding himself up with a casual air. He crossed his legs, one heel resting on his ankle.

"Rest now," He suggested quietly, "You need sleep to warm yourself up, that river is quite cold."

"Do not take such a sarcastic tone with a woman." The girl answered, her hands falling away from her knees, her bright-purple eyes gazing at him thoughtfully, as though intrigued by him, "Thank you. . . for saving me. I owe my life to you. How can I repay such a debt, I wonder?"

"Perhaps you can help me." Hiei's fingers stroked the icy snow walls, then coming to fold across his chest along with the other, "First, I must ask you your name."

"My name is . . . KichoHitori[Beloved one]. May I ask your name, my rescuer?"

"Pfft." Hiei scoffed lightly with a twitch of his fingers against his arm, "Hiei. Now, tell me why you are here. And, while you're at it, why you fell into that river."

KichoHitori's eyes shadowed as her face fell forward, strands of ebony hair silhouetted her face, blocking most of it from view. All but her mouth, which drew into a thin frown. Her words were hesitant, few and far between. Hiei was patient, assuming the shock of near-drowning had frightened her into a daze.

". . . . My village was burned down by . . . A most terrible man." Her manner of speech reminded him of his sister, "He killed all of my family exempting myself. I had been gathering herbs in the woods. . . . I came back to bodies and the stench of death. . . . . I am the only one of my clan to survive . . . . . The only one in the village, for all I know! As I searched for those still living. . . . None . . . I found fresh footprints. The smell that hung about them was not Yoku. . . . I followed them into the Mori [woods] . . . And found the slayer of my people laying down, asleep! I planned to kill him as he rested, but found I could not do it. . . . I could not seek vengeance upon the killer of a hundred Yokus! I will find him once more . . . some day . . . And wreak my revenge on him, in its full force. . . ." She fell silent for some time. Tears slowly descended down her cheeks, falling to the ground. Hiei overlooked these and pressed her:

"How did get here; why did you come?"

"It has been two years since the day I failed to kill the pig who murdered innocent Yokus. I traveled for many weeks in search of a master of any fighting art to take me on as a student. . . . So I can kill the one who mercilessly killed my family. . . With not a spark of luck. I sopose you could call it chance I came here. . . I had nowhere else to go. . . I was standing on the bank when the snow collapsed and I fell. . . Again, I must thank you." She lifted her face, her hair falling away to her shoulders, a gentle smile on her lips. Her eyes closed as though in joy. "I owe my life to you."

". . . You say you need a sensei? What sort of fighting art do you wish to learn, kid?" Hiei asked as though fascinated by only her need for a teacher. KichoHitori blinked away her annoyance at his lack of sensitivity, her lips hanging open slightly.

"W-Well, I have always shyed away from fighting, at the same time I felt attracted to the sword. . ." Her eyes flickered as she got a far-away look in them, a smile on her lips, "The speed of a swordsman. . . The dedication of both student and master. . . the sharp danger of the blade. . . . . . The pure adrenaline rush of going. . . How do you say it, "head-to-head?" The thrill of holding such power in your hand. . . Such is the sword."

Hiei inclined his head approvingly, a certain glint in his eye that forewarned KichoHitori of what was to happen.

"Stop running away from me!" Hiei shouted. He thrust his bokuto [wooden sword] upward, a tree's bark erupting in splinters. KichoHitori had grown in both strength and skill, her movements graceful and perfect, her body moving in the same manner as her sword. She found that Hiei had cornered her; he stood on the very bank that he had shoved her on so many years before, saving her life. But now dense grass grew, littered with light purple wild flowers and long-stemmed roses. A solitary blue butterfly lay basking in the sun atop a rose, its color vibrant and sharp to KichoHitori's eyes. The snow had melted. Hiei's foot dug a rut in the dirt as he landed on the side of his foot beside her.

KichoHitori lifted her arm, her bokuto knocking his aside easily, breaking his stance. Hiei's smile was fleeting, a quick grin of acknowledgement. KichoHitori let her sword down, her arm resting on her side, her chest heaving as she panted.

Hiei's face beaded with sweat as he slid to his knees. He folded his legs Indian-style, his sword lay beside him. She joined him, her tired shoulders sagging. She let herself fall backward onto her back to gaze at the slowly drifting clouds above. For some time, neither spoke.

At last Hiei grumbled, "You've slacked off."

"Maybe its because I think no matter how I train, it won't be enough to beat him." She suggested blandly, her arms serving as a pillow for her head. Her short raven hair had been pulled back in a blue ribbon, so as not to get in the way. "Or maybe I think I'm strong enough now."

"Even you aren't that foolhardy," Hiei answered, his tone matching hers. "I'd go with number one."

"Bingo! You win the prize," She informed him, her voice sour and flat.

"Goodie." He continued to imitate her tone of voice, much to her annoyance. Hiei tipped his head back to gaze at the clouds along with her. A wind picked up, the grass billowing like the waters of the sea around them. It tugged at their clothes, as though sure it could blow them away with its mighty gale. Hiei put a hand to his face to brush away the strands of hair that had come to ail his eyes. "What is it, I wonder?"

"I sopose it would be knowing that your devout student will try harder now to please her beloved sensei."

"How rewarding."

"Hey!" She nudged his back with her fingertips, getting him in that spot that he despised being touched at. His only ticklish spot. His eyes watered, his lips tightly closed to prevent laphter. She let out a giggle, "You know you want to laph. Go on, laph, Hiei!"

Hiei shivered, tears threatening to flow as his body trembled. He burst out laphing, falling back, beside KichoHitori. ". . . . . . I ought to punish you for disrespect," He murmured in a thoughtful tone, as though wondering aloud.

She closed her eyes at that, the pain of past beatings fresh in her mind. Hiei had wasted no time in turning her into a full-fledged student. "It was worth it," She told him lightly, but unable to keep her voice from trebling a little.

Hiei laphed, his hands folding behind his head leisurely. "Do not fear; though I have a mind to beat you, I won't." He turned her face to hers, a hint of a smile on it. KichoHitori propped herself up on one elbow in order to see him properly, her eyes shinning.

"I wish you were merciful more often." She spoke truthfully, "You're so cute when you laph, you know." She laphed at the murderous look on his face, putting her hand over his eyes, nose and mouth, blocking them from view, "Such a little cutie," She spoke as if to a child.

"Don't make me kill you." Hiei warned, his voice muffled, his tone acidic. "I will, Kicho."

"Hiei," KichoHitori spoke softly, her face upturned, her manner suddenly that of one who has seen death, "I had a dream last night."

"Well what do you want me to do about it? GET YOUR HAND OFF ME!"

KichoHitori let her hand fall away, her face solemn and grave. The wind blew harder, sending dust up in swirls, her hair blocking her face from view, "I died, Hiei. He was a-above m-me. . . Told me to b-b-beg for m-m-mercy. When-n I-I did, he k-k-k-killed me." She shook so terribly at the thought of her dream that her words came out juttingly.

"Kicho. . ." Hiei put a hand on her slim shoulder, his manner comforting. "I would never let that dirty murderer kill you; let alone force you to beg. Did I not promise that the day I became your sensei? Have you no faith in my words?"

"I trust you. . . Hiei."

Hiei felt the power of those words once more tingle his ears, as they had then. Hikari had completely and utterly trusted him, with her very life. "And I failed you." Hiei spoke, his tone disbelieving, his eyes coming to rest on her face, which remained void. But her eyes gave a weak flicker, and she turned her face from him, and hurried down the stairs. Hiei did not follow. He stood there, frozen on that stone step, a look of self-hatred on his face. His own stupidity doomed this frail sparrow to a life of killing and stealing, a life he himself had to endure. But he had the spirit for it. She and Yukina were so similar. Though Hikari appeared to be malicious, she was gentle and compassionate. But she had been thrown into the life of an assassin. This was not, in the least, fair to her. Hiei had failed her, and she had trusted him with everything. She had been forced to work under the very man that had slaughtered her family. . . Though she did not know this. Hiei had seen to it that she remained oblivious to it. "Kicho! Kicho! Come back!" Was he a fool? This girl planned to torture him until he agreed to join OjiKiba. Though Hiei couldn't for the life of him imagine her doing so. "Kicho!"

"Do not call me by that name!" Hikari cried, her words echoing on the walls, giving it an eerie quality. "That was my father's name for me; that is of my past, I refuse to ever return to it. . . !"

Chapter eight: The Word She Dare not Speak

Hikari's slim legs carried her all the way down the staircase, her face blanched. She held out her hands, her sharp nails just barely brushing against the stone wall as she ran. Hiei's calls had ceased. She gave a fleeting thought to the fact that she was leaving a prisoner alone in the castle. But she would be back within ten minutes at the most. Hiei would barely have begun to walk down the stairs before she had recaptured him. And with his dear sister in their clutches, he would be forced to obey. "Master OjiKiba," She murmured breathlessly as she ran, "Please, help me forget my fondness of Hiei so that I can do as you wish." She did not expect him to answer, no, she had assumed he'd wait until she had gotten to his room in the left tower. Instead, his words echoed off the stone walls, terrible and evil. Words spoken in the ancient tongue of the Yoku, the fox demon people. Only four people in that castle recognized those words, and one of them was not meant to hear them. Aete, Hikari, Zurui and Kurama froze as the words came, spoken slowly as if an enchantment: "Forget those you once loved; do as I command; for I am your master; and that is all you need to know and love; for those who swear allegiance to you break it; but I will never forsake your alliance to me..."

"Hmmm," Droned Hikari as her mouth went dry, her eyes dulled, and her body erupted in spasms, "Yes... Of course, Master OjiKiba."

Hiei, listen to me, I cannot do this. I will never lay a finger upon you, nor your sister, not for OjiKiba, not for any beast! Yukina is locked away in the far-left tower, in the highest room. Aete and Midori will be in there, so be careful. Tell her-----tell her I'm sorry."

"Kicho. . . Will you not join me?" Hiei's tone had a begging note to it, desperate and anxious. His hands hung limp at his sides, his eyes closing as though pleading with her hurt him. "I will rip OjiKiba's fingers off, one by one, if he dare threaten you. I will save you from him, you have my word!"

"Unfortunately, dearest Hiei, your word means nothing to me. I forgive you, my friend, but I cannot make the same mistake twice. OjiKiba will kill me, that I know and cannot run from. But you, I will never let him kill you, I. . . love you, Hiei. I consider you my only sibling... Please, tell Yukina that you are her brother. Or she will go on through life missing what I experienced all those years ago. . . . . . . Having a beloved brother, like you . . . . ."