Kurama's shoes squelched in the wet grass underfoot. His ears were alert for any abnormal sound but all he could hear was the dripping of water falling from the leaves of the trees above him and the wind whispering through the branches. It had been raining steadily for most of the day but it had stopped about an hour ago.
The park should be deserted at this time of night. Anyone seeking shelter under these branches at an hour past midnight was surely up to something that they shouldn't be. Kurama was no exception. He was hoping to meet someone here.
He stopped in the middle of a clearing. Moonlight streamed down, giving it a magical aura. The water droplets on the grass glittered like a carpet of diamonds. This was as good a place as any, he decided.
He didn't have to wait long. He heard the sharp crack of a branch breaking underfoot behind him. He turned to see a dark figure standing at the edge of the clearing, just inside the trees. The branch had been deliberate, Kurama knew. This person had wanted to alert Kurama to their presence.
'Their', because Kurama still wasn't sure whether this being was male or female. There were a lot of things that he wasn't sure about. That was why he was here. To get answers from someone who had proven to be as elusive as the stars on a cloudy night.
"You're an awful lot of trouble, aren't you?"
The voice was deep and masculine. The figure stepped into the clearing. It was wearing a long black cloak. It's face was hidden in the shadows of a hood. Peeking out from beneath the hem of the cloak, Kurama could see a pair of shiny black boots. The figure's steps made no sound on the wet grass. Kurama suppressed a shiver. They had probably been following him all along. They might have been right behind him and he would not have heard them.
"Thank you for meeting me," Kurama said politely. He kept his posture relaxed. He had already seen what this person was capable of, and had no desire to start a fight with them. He'd probably win, from what he'd observed so far, but it wasn't a guarantee. The nature of this person, the nature of this person's existence, was still a mystery. Kurama preferred certainties.
Besides, they weren't enemies. At least, he didn't think they were.
"You have questions," the figure said.
"Yes," Kurama answered. He paused, wondering if there would be an objection but none came. The person simply waited, as if they had all the time in the world. Though their time was actually limited, Kurama was sure.
"Who are you?" Kurama asked.
There was a soft laugh from beneath the hood. "You know who I am," the figure said. One pale hand reached up to pull the hood back, revealing a face. A very ordinary face. Kurama could have walked past this person on the street, and never noticed them. The eyes were dark brown and almond shaped. The lips were thin and turned up slightly at the corners. The hair was black, straight and shoulder-length.
And Kurama knew this face. Of course he knew this face. In fact, he had walked past this person a hundred times before in the hall of their school. This person was his classmate.
"Hello, Minamino-san." The voice was lighter now, sounding more feminine. More like the voice he remembered. Anger boiled in Kurama's veins. He felt as though the person were making fun of him and he didn't like it one bit.
"Do not play with me," he snapped, his voice as sharp as the crack of his rose whip.
The lips turned up even more. The smile looked unnatural on that face. He'd seen his classmate smile before, and it had always looked genuine and warm, not mocking, as this one did.
"My, you're touchy, fox." The voice had dropped again. "I'm just having a little fun."
"Is that all this is to you? Fun? People have died," Kurama said angrily. "Do you care at all?"
The figure tilted it's head slightly to the side, the smile dropping. "Now, that isn't fair. Of course I care. I wouldn't have bothered to interfere if I didn't."
"And Ashika-san? Do you care about her? Do you care about what you've put her through? What you've put her family through?"
Now, the figure looked contrite. "It can't be helped," it said. "There are casualties in all wars."
Kurama frowned. The answer was factually true, but he didn't like it. "You still haven't answered my original question," he pointed out. "Who are you?"
The figure dipped into a flamboyant bow, then rose to it's full height again, just taller than Kurama's 5'11". "I am Phantom," the figure said, "at your service."
"That cannot truly be your name," Kurama said irately. He was swiftly losing his patience with this person. "Who are you, really? Why are you here? What do you want?"
The figure let out a sigh. "I suppose I should have expected this from a fox," it muttered. "Phantom is my name. The only one that matters in this place, anyway. As for why I am here…"
The figure trailed off, one hand rising from beneath the cloak, a finger tapping it's chin in thought. "To fix a mistake," it said, finally. The hand dropped to it's side.
Kurama found that answer unsatisfactory. "What mistake?" he demanded, taking one step forward.
The figure did not move. Clearly, it did not feel that Kurama was a threat. "Does it matter?" it asked. "It doesn't involve you, after all."
"It involves Ashika-san," Kurama said. "You've involved her."
"It couldn't be helped."
That response again. Phantom just didn't get it. It, no, Kurama couldn't keep thinking of this figure as 'it'. That voice was unmistakably male, even if the face it belonged to was not. 'He' just didn't understand.
Not human. Not demon. Not even a god. What did that leave?
"A possibility."
Kurama froze. He hadn't said anything, yet Phantom was looking at him as though he had. As though he'd just answered Kurama's unspoken question. Had he just been guessing at what Kurama was thinking or could he really read minds?
"I can't read minds," Phantom told him. "But when you've been around for as long as I have, you pick up on things."
And that was probably the most informative answer Kurama had gotten yet, and it was to a question that he hadn't even asked.
And what did he mean by 'possibility'? That could mean anything, or it could mean nothing. That was the kind of vague answer that someone might give if they didn't actually want to give an answer. It was the kind of answer that could turn someone's brain inside out as they struggled to make sense of it.
"As lovely as it is to chat with you, fox, I have to go. Ashika-san is supposed to be tucked safely in bed at this time, not meeting male classmates under the cover of darkness."
"Wait!"
But, in a whirl of black fabric, Phantom was gone. Not a leaf rustled at his passing.
Frustration filled Kurama. He'd hoped that this meeting would provide him with answers, but he'd learned almost nothing about the mysterious Phantom. He still didn't even know what the shadowy figure's ultimate goal was.
And what consequences it would have for this fragile world.
And the talk of war was troubling.
There was no point in continuing to stay in the clearing. Phantom would not return. And Ashika-san was not the only person who was supposed to be tucked safely in bed at this time.
Kurama made his way through the trees and back to the quiet suburban street that was his home. He couldn't help but scan the shadows, searching for a figure that was just a little taller than he was. But all he spotted was a stray cat who watched him with accusing eyes. The eyes glowed eerily bright in the shadows, like twin lanterns. It was as if the cat thought that Kurama had robbed it of it's next meal.
Kurama quickened his pace, put off by the unnerving stillness of the creature. He'd never been very fond of cats. Not as a demon and not as a human.
He climbed up the tree outside his room and entered via the open window. His room was as dark and silent as the rest of the house. His parents and stepbrother were fast asleep, as they thought he was. Hastily, he removed his wet boots. His clothes were only just slightly damp but he changed out of them anyway. Clad in his pyjamas, he slid beneath the covers of his bed.
He had a strong feeling that he would see Phantom again. Whatever this entity was involved in, it wasn't over. Not even close.
-0-
Kurama passed the two black-suited men loitering in the hall with barely a glance.
He had the urge to completely ignore the men but he knew that would be suspicious. He certainly wasn't the only student looking their way. Other students were openly staring.
The men were both dark-haired and dressed in crisp black suits. They also wore sunglasses, even though they were inside a building. The fact that Kurama couldn't see their eyes made him feel unnerved.
Perhaps that was the intention behind it. These men claimed to be government agents and had been slowly working their way through Meiou's student body, interviewing students about the mysterious disappearances of two of their peers.
And the murder.
Kurama watched as dark-haired Ashika Miyuki stifled a yawn behind her hand as she walked towards him, a large gym bag over her shoulder.
"Good morning, Minamino-san," she said with a friendly but somewhat shy smile.
"Good morning, Ashika-san," Kurama responded. "Did you have a late night?"
She frowned pensively. "No," she said. "Perhaps I slept a little too long? People can get tired if they sleep too much, right?"
Kurama wanted to laugh but restrained himself. Ashika was shy. It had taken some time for her to become comfortable exchanging more than polite greetings with him. He didn't want her to feel as though he were mocking her.
So, he said, "I suppose so."
He knew exactly why she was tired. Phantom had hijacked her body last night in order to meet him in the park after midnight. She had no idea of Phantom's existence. At first, Kurama had found that difficult to believe. But the human mind was a strange thing. If Phantom left Ashika out in the middle of the street, her mind would fabricate an excuse for why she'd come out there. If she found herself in Kurama's room after school, she would assume that she was there to borrow a book, or discuss an assignment.
Kurama suspected that, subconsciously, she knew of Phantom's existence, but her conscious mind firmly rejected that knowledge, allowing her to live her day-to-day life in complete ignorance and normality.
It was probably for the best.
The desk in the second row of their classroom was conspicuously empty. Kurama watched as student after student filed into the room. Every single one of them glanced at the desk. Some looked quickly away while others lingered.
Ashika glanced at it too. She paused beside it for a moment, then shook her head and kept walking to her own desk, passing Kurama on the way. She didn't even look at him. She seemed preoccupied, Kurama thought. Did she remember something of the events that had originally aroused his curiosity of her?
-0-
Flashback
"That looks quite serious."
Kurama looked up from his battered hand to stare at the figure standing above him, it's shadow falling across him like a shroud.
The figure wore the girls' uniform of Meiou Academy, the same school that Kurama attended, but the voice that came out of that mouth did not belong to a girl. In fact, Kurama was certain that the entity before him was merely borrowing this girl's body.
At least, he hoped that was the case.
Ashika's uniform was streaked with blood, just as Kurama's was, though the red of her uniform hid it a little better than Kurama's magenta one. Whose smart idea had it been to make the boys' uniform magenta, anyway? Yet another uniform he would have to replace. His mother thought that he was very accident-prone.
Ashika's face was completely expressionless, bland as vanilla. There was not the slightest hint of remorse in her, no, it's eyes.
What had it said it's name was? Phantom?
No, it hadn't said that. That was what the other girl, Kinoto Sakura, had called it.
Or the thing that had used to be Kinoto Sakura.
Both of these girls were in Kurama's class but he had never noticed anything unusual about them before. He had sensed nothing. No strange energy. And neither girl had ever appeared to notice anything unusual about him. He'd never even spoken to Ashika before, though Kinoto had approached him at the start of the year. He had gently rebuffed her efforts to befriend him, as he had all of his classmates, and she had eventually given up and directed her attentions elsewhere.
But now Kinoto lay on the grass, a puddle of crimson spilling out from her mostly severed neck. If it weren't for all the blood, she might have looked like a doll tossed carelessly to the ground by a young child.
And her killer was standing over him, regarding him with an impassive mask.
"You should go to the hospital," it informed him.
Kurama began to awkwardly remove his jacket, his fingers of his uninjured left hand clumsily working the buttons. Once he'd managed to shrug out of his jacket, he wrapped it around his bloody hand.
"I will," he said, though he had no intention of doing that. He knew someone who would be able to heal it much more efficiently.
"Will you?" Phantom's lips twisted up into an unnatural smile. It was as if it were merely imitating an expression it had seen on someone else's face. It wasn't genuine and it never touched those eyes. Those eyes that belonged to Ashika.
Then, Phantom turned and started walking away.
Kurama struggled to his feet, aware that this might be his last chance to question this person.
"Wait!" he called after it.
Phantom paused, just after stepping delicately over one of Kinoto's sprawled legs. It did not turn around.
"Who are you? What are you?" Kurama demanded.
"You shouldn't be concerned about me," came the response. "You should be more concerned about her." One heel edged back to nudge Kinoto's leg. "She won't be the last."
Then Phantom resumed walking, steps light and graceful, like a dancer.
Kurama's hand throbbed terribly. The cloth wrapped around it was quickly becoming soaked with blood. He needed to take care of it immediately. He didn't have the time to chase the mysterious figure down.
He spared a moment to look down at Kinoto's body. She'd been a very pretty girl, but now her face was hideously morphed. Her mouth gaped open wide, her teeth far longer and sharper than any human's teeth had a right to be. Her lips were stained red with his own blood.
Human. Demon. Spirit. Those were the building blocks of the social structure of the three worlds. Everyone fit into one of these three categories. Though there were half-breeds, like himself, most picked a side. Those, like himself and Yusuke, who bounced between all three, were incredibly rare.
But this girl didn't fit into any of them. She'd been human, Kurama was sure of it. Even after her transformation, she had still been human.
Sort of. She certainly wasn't a demon. Or a spirit. Had her soul gone on to Spirit World, or had it been consumed by whatever force had transformed her into that unnatural monster?
And who was his mysterious helper, Phantom? It seemed like the two had prior knowledge of each other. Was this their first confrontation? Probably not.
And Phantom… What kind of relationship did it have with Ashika? Had it always been a part of her or was it some kind of external force?
It was Kuwabara Shizuru who answered the phone when Kurama called. She'd been surprised to learn that it was Yukina, not her brother, that he wanted to speak to.
"Yeah, she's here," Shizuru said. "Did something happen?"
"Yes," Kurama told her. "I will explain when I get there." Or try to, anyway.
-0-
Present
Ashika spent the entire morning in a daze, her gaze drawn out the window. Kurama was bothered by her preoccupation, but his own classwork kept him distracted, leaving him no time to think about his classmate.
But, at lunchtime, he made his way over to her desk. She hadn't appeared to notice that it was lunchtime. Other students were shifting their chairs around, getting out their bentos, or leaving the room to eat elsewhere. But Ashika's attention remained on the window.
The view was uninspiring. Just the basketball court, and beyond that, the green expanse of the oval. Ashika's notebook still sat open on the desk before her, the page blank. Her pen tapped on the page, keeping a steady rhythm, though the motion appeared automatic. A habit, not something that required conscious effort.
"Ashika-san?"
No response. Ashika continued to stare out the window. Students were now meandering onto the court, no doubt about to start a casual game. From the seat behind Ashika's, Kurama heard a snicker. That student had noticed Ashika's ignorance to her classmate's summons, and found it amusing.
Kurama reached out and placed his hand on the slim wrist of the hand tapping the pencil. Ashika's hand immediately stilled, her head swinging around to face him. Her chocolate eyes were wide with surprise.
"Oh, Minamino-san," she exclaimed.
Kurama immediately retracted his hand. "You seemed as though you were off in another world," he said. "In fact, you seem to have been there all morning."
She blinked in confusion at him, before turning her attention to the rest of the classroom. Red blossomed on her cheeks, making Kurama smile in amusement.
"I guess that's true," she said with a laugh.
"Is there something bothering you?" Kurama inquired. Did she perhaps remember something from last night?
She frowned, her pen resuming it's tapping again. "It's nothing," she said, after a second of consideration. "I just had a weird dream last night."
"Weird?" Kurama asked, interested. What did she consider a 'weird' dream? Was this a normal weird dream, like being chased by giant teakettles, or a 'weird' weird dream, like Kuwabara's premonition dreams?
"It was…" Now Ashika looked reluctant. "I thought… It's nothing, really."
Nothing. So she wasn't going to tell him. He didn't find that surprising. She barely knew him. He wasn't yet close enough to her for her to feel comfortable in confiding in him.
"Are you sure?" he asked, making one more effort to elicit the truth from her, though he knew that it was likely futile. "It has held your attention all morning."
She ducked her head, her black hair falling forward. "It really is nothing, Minamino-san. Please forget about it."
"If you say so." But Kurama wasn't going to forget about it. He'd merely stop asking about it. For the moment, anyway. "Mother has requested that I ask you to dinner sometime, if you are free."
Her head shot up, her face a mask of surprise. "Me?" she questioned.
Kurama allowed a smile to curve his lips. Her surprise was cute. It was a lie, of course. Though his mother would be ecstatic if he brought any of his classmates home. She was of the opinion that he did not socialise with his peers enough.
"Yes," he said. Ashika had been to his house on only a handful of occasions, because they had been working on an assignment together, and she had gotten along well with his mother.
That assignment had been a stroke of luck for Kurama. It had given him an excuse to get to know Ashika in a manner that would not seem suspicious to her or their classmates.
"I'll, ah, have to get back to you," she said, her cheeks once again turning red. "I need to ask my mother first."
Her mother. Kurama had been to Ashika's house only once, with the excuse of returning a book to her.
A book that he himself had removed from her bag while she wasn't looking.
Her mother had seemed nice, but there was something about the way that she had looked at her daughter that seemed off to Kurama. And she had, while Kurama was present, asked Ashika about her activities that day. Specifically, if she had attended all of her classes and what, precisely, she had done after school.
Very precisely. It was as if she wanted Ashika to outline her every movement that day in minute detail. And she kept looking over at Kurama, as if she thought that he might contradict Ashika at any moment.
But Kurama had remained silent as he watched the exchange. Finally, Ashika's normally mild temper had frayed and she had grown short and impatient with her mother.
Kurama had interjected, then, before the situation could escalate. Ashika had walked him out of the house and then apologised for her mother's behaviour.
"She's a little neurotic," she'd confessed.
Kurama didn't agree with her assessment. He'd seen something in the woman's eyes when she'd looked at her daughter. She'd been scared. Not scared of her daughter. Scared for her daughter.
"If your mother wants to speak to mine, that is fine," Kurama told Ashika. He had an urge to take that pen away from her. The sound was becoming irritating.
"She probably will want to," Ashika said apologetically.
As soon as he'd left her, Ashika's attention returned to the window. Though, Kurama noticed that once class began, she was able to turn her focus to the lesson.
Ashika's mother was a puzzle in herself. Did she know something about Phantom? Was it possible that she'd met him? Or had she just noticed something odd in her daughter's behaviour? Perhaps Phantom wasn't as careful in cleaning up after himself as Kurama was.
But Kurama couldn't just come straight out and ask the woman.
"Are you aware that your daughter has a secret murderous identity?"
No, that wouldn't go over well at all. And if he asked too many questions, even subtle ones, she might ban him from seeing Ashika. That would make an already difficult task infinitely more arduous.
No, he would have to continue to pretend to be innocent, polite Minamino Shuichi around both Ashika and her mother. He would bide his time and wait for Phantom to reappear.
Phantom was the only one who held the answers Kurama sought.
