The Wasteland
a Yu Yu Hakusho fanfic
for the Big Bang Collaboration of 2016
Inspired by this fanart: zero chan "dot" net "slash" 63787
Paired artworks: voltronslegs "dot" tumblr "dot" com "slash" post "slash" 152739807889 "slash" another-drawing-for-the-yyhbb-this-one-is-for
emberraart "dot" tumblr "dot" com "slash" post "slash" 152753872774 "slash" here-is-my-piece-for-the-yu-yu-hakusho-big-bang
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[0]
Deep in the pit of the black abyss - a wasteland, some venture to say but none can name because the blackness chokes all light, and you cannot see past Despair. No one knows what lies there. You could wander there for days and feel no walls for it to be called a pit, yet you feel enclosed, and sometimes if you pay heed to the notion, it is hard to breathe. The air is stifling and close – no breeze flows on by. No, there is only stale, thick air, and you pull your cloak close not for the warmth, but for comfort.
Because the air never moves, it lays upon you, thick and heavy. They say it is hot in there and stifling. But there is no warmth to that heat. It is empty, desolate – some say it is cold. Merciless. Devastating. The cold which surrounds you as you trudge on, alone and lost. The cold which mocks you as it bites at your fingers and slithers down your back.
But hot or cold regardless, it is too much, and no one wants to be there, and that is why they call it hell.
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[1]
A figure walks there. Cloaked in black. Indiscernible from the gloom but for the bit of white that wraps about his neck and covers his face. And piercing red eyes. And towering above him looms the kitsune, with dripping maw, flashing tails, and fine white fur from which rises ghostly tendrils of steam. They walk down the dirt path. The kitsune leans against the figure, nearly cutting him off from his path. The figure pauses. And seems to mutter something to the kitsune. The kitsune points its nose in my direction. The two of them turn, their eyes fixed straight at me, and even though I am hiding, indiscernible from the bramble of bushes and outcrop of rocks, I know I've been found.
I crawl out from the underbrush, and a katana is at my throat before I am upright. I pause.
"Why are you following us?" the figure asks.
I raise my hands up high and slow.
"You caught me," I whisper, bemused, and I laugh because this is not according to plan, no this is much much better. "Here's a riddle for you - What is a demon and a spirit fox doing here?" I gesture with dancing hands. "The land knows you do not belong."
"Who are you," he demands, and isn't that the billion dollar question, my favorite question, but it's too soon. I flick my finger at the kitsune. "That kitsune's spirit energy is burning as fast as a firecracker at the end of its wick. You will run out of time," and I smile as I savor the word, "Hiei."
At the sound of his name, the demon's eyes flash, and he strikes. My head is cut from my body, and I pour out of those cumbersome trappings, screaming past him and the kitsune in one fell wind. As I go, I snatch a memory, peeking out from the corner of his eye.
Forms come and go. One is just as good as another. I took the last body from a man who killed his family to save his honor. I assume a new form, the memory still in my hand. It flutters and squeaks, and I smash it, swallow it whole, the memory unfolding in my mouth...
When Hiei woke up he wasn't alone. A giant kitsune waited for him, bristling full of spirit energy. And Kurama wasn't there.
The kitsune waited patiently, seated on its haunches until Hiei was able to stand. He looked and looked but even with his third eye all he saw was stretches of empty, desolate earth.
"Kurama!" he called, but there was nothing but the kitsune's rumble, and it looked at him with knowing eyes. Hiei closed his eyes for a long time and said nothing. Stood there, head bowed, fists clenched. He took a deep breath and on the exhale, muttered "You fool."
The kitsune barked and nosed Hiei's back, until he was forced to take a step forward and then the next and the next.
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[2]
The kistune leads, and the demon follows. The air is fell, and the ground is a thick crust of dirt, baked and cracked. There is only empty land and a haze that distorts distance into a blur. They walk on. Rough shacks slowly emerge from the gloom. People in rags lay against them, staring unblinkingly past. They overtake a woman, dragging a body behind her with one hand. She stops when she sees the kitsune, drops the body, drops the head. She cries. They walk on. The kitsune leads, and the demon follows.
A wizened hag by a pile of wood is muttering to herself. She locks eyes with the demon and says, "I only ate one! Only one! It's not fair!"
"One what?" the demon asks.
"One baby," she says, all bloody teethed and spit dripping down. She gnaws on a little bone. "Do you have one? I'm hungry."
"It's an illusion," says a man, walking up to them. "If we were really hungry, we'd have died by now. But eating fills your stomach. Eating makes the time pass." He sniffs at the demon.
"You smell different. You smell new. How about I have a piece of your shoulder?" he asks."Plenty of meat there. Won't be missing that. Helps the time pass by, how about it?"
He grabs the demon by the arm, and the kitsune is there – snarling and gnashing its teeth, eyes blazing, and they all step back. The kitsune inserts itself between the demon and the people, leaning against him until he moves – they walk on, the kitsune close beside. They walk and overtake more people, shuffling down the well-trodden path, solitary and scratching their arms, pulling at their skin, muttering. When they see the kitsune, some laugh, some cover their eyes and tremble, and some do not see at all. More follow them. A boy in the crowd whispers, "Is that a hell hound or an angel?"
"It's a fox," says the demon with a snort.
"Where did you find it?"
"It came with me."
"Does it know the way out?" asks the boy, and everyone is listening.
"That's not where we're going," says the demon, and the boy is crestfallen. There is a collective sigh from the land, the people, and they walk on. The crowd thins. Soon, there is no one on the road.
And then there is one. Standing there in that wide expanse. A child with red hair and emerald eyes.
Who says, upon their approach, "He doesn't want to go back." And then he's gone.
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[3]
They do not belong here.
The kitsune does not belong.
Its spirit energy cannot stay; it jettisons up into the sky. It burns so bright like a star right before it dies. It fizzles and flares, and it's losing its light.
The demon does not belong.
He leaves a long black smear in his wake, everywhere he walks. He is a stain, that demon, an oil blot, like ink dripping in water, velvet and dark and bleeding. That stain mars everything he touches, and the land changes. He does not belong here – like oil pressing against water, the land, the air is resistant. The air pushes and crushes him, and that demon persists. Like a stain.
They walk. The kitsune leads, and the demon follows. His feet are heavy, and he strains with each step. His bones creak. He breathes in sharply and grabs at his collar. The air suffocates him. The kitsune turns, and after a moment, goes to the demon, in three leaping bounds as graceful as flowing water. The demon's hands are on his knees as he sucks in resistant air, that travel down his lungs but dance away, cackling like imps, before they can draw oxygen. And while he is weak, I sweep in with the air, dive straight down his throat, snatching at a close memory nestled there. It is stuck hard and fast, and I jostle it lose, grabbing with both hands and kicking hard until the demon coughs and I am out, prize in tow. The kitsune nudges the demon and kneels down on all fours, offering its back. The demon shakes his head and stands, immediately losing his balance and stumbling. The kitsune barks, and oh, my demon is stubborn. He takes one step and then another, leaning on his katana for support. The air pulls at him, his cloak, his limbs. Weight hangs from him. The kitsune blocks his path. The demon pushes at the kitsune to little effect. He yells. And the kitsune snatches the scruff of the demon's cloak with its teeth, like a mother chastising her kit, and swings him onto its back. They cross the rest of the flatland like that. My demon sulks.
I pull out my prize- a memory, hard and bright as a jewel. I whack it against the rocks until it cracks. I bite down hard and suck it dry. The memory spills open...
An S-class yokai was standing in the courtyard of the apartment buildings. Before it laid a man, crumpled on the ground, his chest bleeding profusely. He struggled to breathe. With each shallow breath, his soul slowly rose from his body. The yokai plucked it, sliced the air, creating a rip into another dimension, and tossed the soul inside. It turned when they approach.
"There you are!" crowed the yokai. He pointed to Kurama. "Your energy signature is all over this place." He hooted, "It's perfect."
The yokai was stronger than they first thought, and it outpaced them all. Its arms slipped into dimension pockets and came out, slicing at Yusuke and Touya from behind. Touya was overpowered, and he took a deep cut to the legs. They were mangled horribly, one ankle nearly severed, and he was screaming. Yusuke took a hit to the head, and he fell to the ground. He did not get up. The yokai closes in for the kill. Kurama, winded and badly battered, stopped him.
"It's me you want, isn't it?" he said. And he exchanged looks with Hiei with desperate eyes which clearly say, take them and run. The yokai lunged for Kurama, gutting him before he can move. Blood poured profusely from the wound. Hiei saw the light fading from Kurama's eyes, the yokai reaching for his ghostly spirit. Hiei sprinted full speed at the demon, katana raised, and the yokai turned to the side, cutting a dimensional rift in the air, and Hiei was going too fast to change his direction, he grazed it instead, and then he was falling, falling, falling into that rift with Kurama's soul.
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[4]
"Where are you going?" It's the 10th time someone has asked him, and he must recognize it now as a greeting in this land. The person who asked him is dangling above them, hanging from a noose afix the branches.
"East," the demon says and keeps walking.
They have reached a dead forest. Trees stand like tombstones, silent and stark, like spears thrust at the sky. A sharp, burnt black. Naked, thirsty branches scrabble at the sky. And dangling from many of them are nooses. Low and high, they swing softly. Some bloody, some new, some thick, some thin and ragged. And from many of these nooses hang bodies. Their necks twisted tight, heads lolling to one side. But they are still very much alive. I should know.
Another body whispers, "Dead end."
In the distance, they see a man climbing a tree. He sits on a branch, pulls up a noose, fastens it around his neck, and jumps. There's a crunch as the rope jerks his body up, and his breath hitches, struggles, then dies. But he is still very much alive.
They have reached the Hanging Trees.
People walk past the kitsune and the demon, going to empty trees with empty nooses. They're doing the same. One stranger turns and asks, "Have you figured out why you're here?"
The demon is silent.
The stranger goes on, "I think I've figured it out. It's because I didn't forgive."
The stranger moves on and examines a noose. The demon and the kitsune continue.
The dead forest is vast, and they keep walking. The kitsune leads, and the demon follows. They come upon more people walking through the trees. A young woman goes to every single person, beseeching them, crying, "I shouldn't be here. I didn't do anything wrong!"
An older woman chuckles and says, "Of course you have. Why else would you be here?"
Something is slowly breaking, splintering. A branch falls, and a body dangling from a noose falls with it. The body gets up, head still lolled to the side, and looks for a new branch.
Somebody tells the demon, "You cannot die here, but it's comforting to try."
When they see the kitsune, they scream. Their screams break the silence, and it is deafening.
They travel through the Hanging Trees without stopping, and the screaming follows them. Once they are out of the woods, they rest, their ears still ringing. The land is barren and exposed, but they are too tired to care. The kitsune curls protectively around the demon, and the demon sleeps with his katana against his chest, his back against the warm belly of the beast.
In the morning, there's a message scratched in the hard soil. It reads, "I don't want to be found." When the demon blinks, it is gone.
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[5]
They reach a swamp. It is pungent with rotting things: leaves, wood, and carcasses. Clouds of gnats buzz in patches in the air. Sludge gathers along the edges of the swamp. And like the flatland, it stretches as far as they can see in either direction. The kitsune sniffs at the fetid waters and sits, as if thinking.
"How about you swim and I ride on top?" the demon deadpans.
The kitsune turns its head to him with a look of disgust.
"What," says the demon. "I thought you liked giving me rides."
The kitsune flattens its ears and yips. The demon chuckles. It yips again, and the demon turns.
Some people are walking towards the swamp. The closest figure approaches them, a tired man with orange hair styled in a pompadour. They stare at one another in disbelief.
"Hiei?" the man whispers and puts a hand on the demon's shoulder in disbelief. He pulls him into a tight hug. The demon lets him.
"What are you doing here? This place is for humans."
The demon stares at him, perplexed. "You shouldn't be here either."
"Should I?" The man's smile fades, "I don't know what to think anymore." A shadow falls over his face, and he falls silent. The man turns to the kitsune who hasn't moved from its spot by the swamp's edge. It stares solemnly back at him, ears flicking.
"Is that..." He points at the kitsune. I lean in close, gathering my wind about me and sweep in, slinking, leaning on their shoulders like the heavy weight of heat, the humidity, the atmosphere.
"No," says the demon. "It's only part of him." Interesting.
"What happened to him?" the man asks.
"He was being stupid," the demon spits, "and threw his life away."
The man's face falls. He shakes his head. "Why would he do that?"
"Because he thought he could save everyone!" the demon snaps, mad at Kurama and mad at himself. "Using the same flawed logic like he always does." He's glaring at the kitsune. The kitsune only yawns.
It stands up and begins to pace about the edge of the swamp.
"What does it want?" asks the man.
"To get across," says the demon. "That's where we're headed."
"We have rafts," says the man. "I'll go with you."
Along the way they talk for hours.
And as they talk, I steal in like a buzzard and grasp the bit of memory hanging from the demon's temple. I tug it loose, and it flows, a long, thin, shiny thing. I wrap it around my arm, and it's all there, my prize. My piece of the riddle. I take one end and chew slowly. The memory unravels between my teeth...
They were walking back to Genkai's after an all-out fight with an A-class demon – the usual mission. Their kind was becoming more and more common. Hiei was staring at Kurama thoughtfully.
"You now swap between your human form and Yoko form so easily," Hiei observed.
"When you're Youko, do you revert back? Do you feel the same insatiable thirst and unstoppable drive that made you so famous? Do you return to that proud and haughty past? The one that struck down women and children without hesitation?" A dark smile broke across his face. "Will I be seeing the return?"
"Is that what you're hoping for?" Kurama sniffed. "Hoping like some heartstruck fanboy to see your idol in the flesh?" He went on, "That was my past. I am my past, present, and future. Don't forget that."
Then he stared at Hiei, eyes sharp. "If you keep holding me to my past, you'll be blindsided."
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[6]
The swamp is filled with noise. The frogs croak, the insects tick and buzz and whirl, and the oars slop against the slick water. Their raft is barely big enough to carry three of them. The kitsune curls up on one corner, the demon pressed against its belly, the man standing opposite of them. The man pushes their raft forward with a long pole. Other boats and rafts filled with people float on by. They leave in large numbers and hope it will prevent them from getting lost. No one really knows how far the swamps can stretch to the north or the south. But they know where it ends in the west. And that's where the kitsune is pointing for them to go. It settled its head on the west side of the raft and points with its nose whenever they veer off course. The people in their rag-tag fleet of rafts consider the kitsune lucky. They insist on having that raft lead.
The man, Kuwabara, is talking. "You know for a second I thought, maybe you had come for me. Maybe spirit world had made a mistake, and they'd send somebody to go fix it. But then I thought – Hiei volunteering to save me? Isn't that a laugh" He tried to chuckle, but it came out sad and forced.
"Or maybe they didn't make a mistake. Maybe I do deserve it."
The demon speaks up. "You're wrong." He leans forward, making sure the man looks him in the eyes. "You may be an idiot, but idiots don't deserve this. Got that?"
"Sure," the man gives him a tentative smile. "Never thought I'd hear that from yo-"
"Say it like you mean it." interrupted the demon.
"What?"
The demon stares steely back and slowly enunciates each word like he's speaking to an idiot, "Say I don't deserve to be here."
The man takes a breath. Then he looks straight up at the sky, and shouts, "I don't deserve it!"
He stares straight at me, and a chill shoots down my spine. "I shouldn't be here!" Tears trail down his cheeks, past his chin, and his face crumples, and he begins to sob. I am mystified.
The demon says nothing. As the man cries, the swamp continues to croak and creak. Bubbles float to the surface and break. Reeds clack against one another. Warm and sleepy, the kitsune lays its colossal head in the demon's lap. The demon freezes.
The man's tears give way to laughter.
Once the man regains his composure, he speaks, "I needed to hear that."
"You shouldn't have," the demon snorts. "What on earth convinced you that you deserve to be in hell?"
"Because there's other people just like me who woke up in this place after they died. And just like me, they all thought, 'this must be a mistake. I didn't do anything to deserve this.' And if there's so many people like be in this place, then it must not be a mistake."
"No it's not," the demon says, and his eyes flash, "I think I know exactly what's going on. Somebody's been getting greedy." And he's close to the truth, and excitement rocks me to my core. I want to run. I want to sing. Soon, I will have my audience. The stage is set.
The rafts continue their slow trek through the swamp. Someone in their rafting party calls out that she's spotted land. People cheer, and they double their efforts to increase their speed. Crickets chirp, and the sludge squelches. The man can make out a strip of dry land in the distance. He pulls the raft in that direction.
"What happened to your spirit energy?" the demon asks.
"All gone," the man says. "This must be an energy sucking place. I mean, they don't want people escaping, so they don't want people with powers around. I guess it fades away or something."
"Did you have any spirit energy left when you first woke up here?"
"Actually no, not at all."
"Then someone stole it," the demon says, connecting the dots. I can see it. His brain is clicking everything together. What a clever demon.
"Really?" says the man. "I haven't seen anyone with spirit energy until you showed up."
"Oh I have an idea."
I sweep in close and tug at the memory at the nape of the demon's neck. It peels off, and I take it into my hands, wad it into a ball, pop it in my mouth, and chew. It is juicy. The memory unfolds...
There had been reports of a S-class yokai wrecking havoc in the human world; killing people, as those demons commonly did. But while it was capable of much more destruction, it did so in smaller amounts, killing people by the tens instead of the millions, and the demon was hard to pinpoint, appearing and disappearing without a trace. Koenma suspected it was some dimensional yokai, which brought fond memories to them all of Kuwabara and his dimension sword. Yusuke remarked that their mission would be easier had he still been around.
Kurama, Hiei, Yusuke, and Touya, upon special request, were put on the case. They needed strength in numbers to overpower the S-class yokai, and additional help to evacuate any people. When they're investigating the scene of one of the attacks, disaster strikes at home.
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[7]
When they reach the shore, the man works up the nerve to say it.
"Hiei, thank you. For what you said earlier."
"I wasn't doing you any favors," the demon says. "It's the truth."
"I know," says the man with a grin. "Thank you."
"Hn." The demon busies himself with the wooden raft, tightening the knot around which they've anchored it.
The kitsune yips impatiently, and they go. They leave the swamp, and follow the kitsune up the hill, to a great many larger hills, each one taller than the next. They make their way up steadily, breaking through thorny bushes and thick weeds, and the man talks as they do.
"How is everyone doing?"
The demon recounts their companions, keeping track with his fingers. The spirit detective, now one of three kings of demon world, has grandchildren. Genkai is still alive to the amazement of everyone. Shiori has long since passed... I tire from their rabble. I flit in and out, examining the kitsune's fine white fur, still crackling with spirit energy at the tips. The spirit energy leaves faint tendrils in the air... I want to touch it...
"And Yukina?"
The demon stiffens. "She's fine."
The man stops and turns. "Come on you have to tell me more than that." He grabs the demon by the shoulders beseechingly. "You know how I felt about Yukina."
The demon stops him with a hand, disgust evident on his face.
"I couldn't have not known if I tried."
A bittersweet look crept in the man's face. His brows furrowed, eyes bright.
"You know, I didn't realize how different her life was compared to mine and what that meant. The more time we spent together, the more I tried to show her how I felt. But where she came from... they never knew what it meant for a man to love a woman. Not in that village..."
The demon shifts uncomfortably.
"So when we talked about love, she'd think of love, like how a mother loves her child – and I tried to show her my love but... that's not what happened. It took me a really long time to put it together... She's cold in ways I didn't think she could be, and I think."
The man got very quiet. "I think what happened with Tarukane messed her up, a lot more than I first realized."
The man clears his throat. "But in the end, I tried. And I'm really happy that I did..."
He trails off. The man squats, placing both hands on his knees, and stares at the demon.
"How about you Hiei? Did you tell her yet?"
"Tell her what?" The demon's face gives nothing away, but I hear his heart pounding.
"Did you tell her you're her brother?"
The demon pales, dumbfounded. "Who told you?"
"Urameshi told me," the man says, "one time when we got plastered. Told me to keep it a secret, and I did!"
The demon frowns, and he swears, but the man won't let him drop the subject.
"So did you tell her or not?" he asks.
"No," says the demon.
"Why the hell not?!" The man shouts. "Do you know how much she went through to look for you? She leaves her village, and everything that she's known – and can never return back to, goes out into a completely unknown world, risking everything to find you! And how long does she go looking? Do I even want to know?"
"I told her her brother was dead."
The man fumes. He clenches his hands together like he'd like to give the demon a good shake, but thinks better of it. He kicks a thorny bush instead.
He whirls back to the demon.
"Look, I've got a sister. Sure she pissed me off loads of times. But I'd choose knowing her and the times we've spent together over not knowing her any day. I'd never just cut myself off from her... How could you do that to a person? How can you be her brother?" The man's voice grows louder and louder. "No I mean it. How can you BE her brother if you're not even AROUND. How can you BE her brother if you never TELL her?" The demon takes a step back. The man keeps going. "A sibling's always got your back, is always looking out for you, is there when you need a shoulder to cry on, is there to smack you when you're being stupid, and is the one person who you know can put up with all your shit and still stick around. And you're keeping all of that good stuff away. When you do that, you're not only hurting Yukina. You're hurting yourself too."
The man pauses, catching his breath. He wipes away angry tears and sniffs, "God I miss Shizuru."
"I don't have to explain myself to you," the demon says.
"No you do dude," the man says, "because like it or not, I'm your friend, and that's what friends do -they call each other out on shit like this. Now tell me why you're throwing all of this away. Say it to my face!"
"Let's say I do tell her," the demon says quietly. "And she accepts me as her brother. We embrace. We spend time together. Word will spread. My enemies find out. They kidnap and threaten to kill her to get back at me. Game over. You let your attachments show, and your enemies walk all over you."
"So what?" the man shouts. "Yeah it's risky, but it beats living under a rock! Just be stronger than all your enemies. Kurama made it work didn't he?"
"That is exactly what killed Kurama," the demon lets out.
The man fell silent. "Then he lived without regret," he said solemnly. They look at the kitsune. It tilts its head up to the sky and lets loose one long howl.
After a moment, the man turns back to the demon. He's not finished yet.
"Do you care about Yukina or not?"
"Yes I do," the demon grits out.
"Then do something about it."
"I am," says the demon. "I'm doing her a favor by staying the hell out of her life. Who the hell would want somebody like me for a brother?"
"Oh I dunno," says the man. "Maybe Yukina."
The demon scoffs, "You honestly think she'll be happy knowing she has a cold-blooded killer for a brother?"
"We won't know until you stop making that decision for her. Let her decide whether she wants you for a brother." The man shoves his finger at the demon's chest as he says, "Man. Up."
The demon grabs the man's finger and twists it. "Stop trying to put my life back together like it's your pet project," he sneers. "It's not going to be sunshine and daises. It's not that simple."
"Yes it is!" shouts the man, and he pushes the demon hard.
"The hell do you know."
"It's five simple words," says the man. "'Yukina, I. Am. Your. Brother.' Oh and maybe throw this in 'Sorry for being an ASS.'"
"You don't know anything," the demon bites back.
"Well excuse me for caring!" the man screams, and he stalks off.
The kitsune barks at him as he leaves, but the man never turns back.
When he's at the base of the hill, he shouts and his voice carries over, bouncing over the hills and valleys, "I've called you a lot of things, Hiei, but I've never thought you were a coward."
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[8]
The man does not come back. The kitsune and the demon continue up the hills until they reach the tallest one. They stand at the peak. Others are gathered there. It's the tallest peak in the central lands, and people try to to get the lay of the land. Like everyone, they try to find a way out.
"We're surrounded by mountains," a old man is saying, "Mountains on every side. This whole place is a valley."
'"Have you heard of anyone crossing those mountains?" someone asks. "Has anyone reached those mountains?"
"It's all a mirage," another moans. "We'll never reach it."
The people stand and stare out, cupping their hands to their brows and straining their eyes. Meanwhile, the kitsune scents the air and turns about. The demon waits.
Up on lookout peak, you can see the swamplands and the hanging trees, and the mountains on the perimeters, but nothing beyond. The mountain range is too vast. Just beyond lookout peak is a sharp drop, a valley, and in there, graves.
One person takes one step over the peak and falls. Their body hits the steep side of the peak with a crunch, bounces thickly against rocks, it rolls and slides and stops at the bottom. Another person follows suit. They jump.
"I shouldn't be here," someone whispers. And the demon turns. It's a child, and he's grabbed hold of the demon's cloak. He holds it fast. "I want my parents," says the child, and he starts to cry. The demon backs away, tearing his cloak from the child's grasp. The kitsune yips, and they go.
When they're alone, he speaks to the kitsune. In soft, confiding tones.
The kitsune is beginning to act strangely. The demon first notices it when they descend. Normally the kitsune would walk several paces in front of him. But now, it bounds ahead, waits within eyeshot, and then runs back, like a young pup, impatient and full of energy. Maybe they are getting close. The demon walks faster. He hoists himself over a fallen tree, grabbing one branch to ease him over and it breaks. He tosses it to the side and slides down. When he looks up, the kitsune is inches from his face – the branch in its mouth, tail wagging brightly. Mystified, the demon raises the stick over his head. The kitsune's eyes follow it. It sits down and wags its tail expectantly, its eyes never leaving the stick. The demon throws it, and the kitsune chases after it with wild abandon. Within seconds it is back, the stick in its mouth. Wordlessly, the demon takes the stick and throws it again. The kitsune runs, catches it, and brings it back.
"What are you, a dog?" the demon says. And the kitsune sets down the stick and barks impatiently, as if demanding for him to throw it again.
The demon takes the stick with them. They make their way all the way down to the base of the cliffs. There lay the bodies of the people who have jumped. They moan. Their limbs are twisted at odd angles.
"Why do you bother jumping," asks the demon, "if you know you can't die?"
"Sometimes it's comforting," gasps the jumper, "to pretend."
The kitsune lunges ahead, and the demon runs to keep up. Beyond the base of the cliffs is a wide clearing full of ditches. The demon stares down one of them. At the bottom, beneath the dirt, he makes out a face and a withered hand. The hand twitches. The demon steps back. He hears a groan from another ditch. A woman with a hollow face lies there, face down, listless. Here, people bury themselves alive. It is the living graves. They lay down in ditches and close their eyes and will themselves to die. They never do. They should know by now they cannot escape.
They weave through the graves. Strangers walk about. Some climb down into empty ditches.
The kitsune is beginning to draw stares.
A man calls out to the demon, "How much for the dog?"
"He's not anyone's," the demon says. "He's free as much as you or me."
"You should put a collar on that thing before someone tries to steal it," says another.
The demon considers the kitsune. It yawns, revealing very large, very sharp teeth and a bloody red tongue and an enormous mouth. He smiles sharply. "I'm not worried."
They move on. The kitsune leads and the demon follows, past the living graves and the people with greedy, hungry eyes, up the basin and into the valley. Up ahead the demon sees a sharp incline. Steeper than hills, higher than the lookout's peak. Mountains. The kitsune races ahead and does not come bounding back. Are they close? The demon rushes to investigate, tearing through bushes and shoving past branches. He comes upon a ledge and there – the kitsune is snapping at a crow. It catches the bird between its jaws and wrestles it to the ground. Its spine cracks. The kitsune gnaws at its neck and, finally, looks up. The demon sighs.
The demon waits until the kitsune is finished. Then they go. The kitsune doubles back, and the demon, skeptical, follows. It leads him in loops and spirals, around a bend and down a narrow ravine. They reach a small stream. The kitsune sips the cool water and lies down.
The demon stares hard at the kitsune, his eyes unreadable.
"Kurama," the demon says, "do you know where you're going?"
A memory glimmers from the demon's ear. I take it. It is round and hard like a gumball. I suck at it. The first layer unfolds before my tongue...
Kurama was planning on slowly fading himself out of his relatives' lives after Shiori died. He knew it was better that way. His demon soul had slowed the speed at which his body aged, and he was running out of explanations. But when Shiori finally did pass on, Kurama had trouble cutting those ties. He needed those reminders of her. Seeing her descendants gave him comfort. Shiori had remarried and, to the surprise of everyone, had another child late into her years. They named him Shouda, and he grew up, got married, had a child, as most humans did. And Kurama compromised on his plans. He kept his distance, but he also kept a close eye on them. When Shouta passed away, that child remained. Akio, a young adult, orphaned by his late 20's. Troubled and very depressed. Isolated. When Kurama saw how he was suffering, he couldn't stay away. If no one else was going to reach out to Akio, he was going to. And he did. Kurama got involved. He introduced himself as a family friend and insinuated himself into Akio's life. They spoke often, and Kurama made sure to visit him frequently. It wasn't long before Hiei found out about him. It wasn't like Kurama was keeping it a secret.
When he was bored, Hiei would go and look for Kurama to spar with. More often than not, he'd find him at Akio's. He'd wait, perched high up in a tree, for Kurama to finish his visit. Once Kurama closed that door, Hiei was on the ground, demanding another match. After the third time, it had sunk into a routine. One visit with Akio always ended with a sparring session with Hiei.
Hiei never said a word about Kurama's visits with Akio, but the judgment in his eyes said more, and it wasn't long before Kurama was fed up with it.
"What is it?" Kurama snapped after the fourth night. "Spit it out."
"You're getting soft," Hiei said.
"I fail to see how spending time with my relative makes me a less competent fighter."
"Your connection with that human is a gaping vulnerability," Hiei said. "Stronger demons are entering human world each day; our enemies are getting stronger each day. Not even you can afford an opening."
"So you're saying," Kurama said slowly, eyes narrowing, "that spending time with the people I love is a weakness."
"It's foolish," Hiei said. "Information on you is in high demand. People will find out. Better to not have those ties in the first place."
"To not love is to cease being alive,"
Hiei snorted. "I can't believe I'm the one to tell you this, but you're not being smart."
"Sorry to break it to you Hiei, but that's no way to live a life," Kurama retorted. "Or are you suggesting I do as you do and make the person I care the most about believe I'm dead?"
"At least she's alive," Hiei hissed.
"But are you Hiei?" Kurama challenged. "Are you fully alive? Things could be even better if you were actually IN her life."
.
.
[9]
"You're supposed to know," the demon pleads. His voice is hoarse. "Where is he?"
The kitsune licks his face and barks.
"Take me to him."
The kitsune barks again and blinks at him with glassy eyes.
The memory is thick and layered and it is not over. I lick at it like a lollipop. The next layer unfolds...
They were talking about Kurama's past, way back when he was the legendary thief Youko Kurama. It was less of a discussion and more of a confrontation.
"Have you ever accepted that I've changed since my time then?" Kurama was saying. "Or do you still see me for my legends?"
That question caught Hiei off-guard. He has no answer.
Kurama continued, "People change over time. I am no exception. I have gotten older. Wiser. Stronger. Patient. … loyal. And selfless."
"You're still ruthless," Hiei was quick to point out.
"Well, yes," Kurama laughed. "It's not like I've turned into a butterfly."
He lost the kitsune. They were walking up the mountain, when they heard howling. A pack of wolves. Somewhere, miles away. The kitsune froze, ears perked. And then it bolted.
The demon tries to chase after it. Hours pass, and there was no sign of the kitsune.
"Kurama!" the demon yells himself hoarse. "Kurama!"
A memory.
It was becoming an ongoing argument. They would pick up immediately where they left off.
"You're losing your touch," Hiei would say.
"You're vulnerable," He'd say. "Weak."
He finally finds it, up on another hill, snuffling at mushrooms and roots. It doesn't come when he calls. The demon has to lure it back with a freshly killed pheasant. When the kitsune is close enough, the kitsune claps a collar around its neck and hooks a leash to it.
"I'm sorry," the demon says.
The kitsune whines and tugs at the leash. It bites at the cord and struggles against its lead. Foam gathers at its mouth.
"You're losing your mind Kurama," the demon says.
There is no one way up in the mountains. Just the trees and the dust and the ever present gloom. Crows cawing mockingly overhead. One man does stumble across their path, and he takes one look at the kitsune and the collar says, "You'll have to put it down. Out of its misery. That creature does not belong here."
The kitsune doesn't lead him anywhere, and the demon has given up on his guide.
In the end, he lets the kitsune go.
.
.
[10]
The demon wanders aimlessly through the mountain. He scales the boulders and stumbles through cobwebs. His feet take him higher and higher up. Until the air is light. And he starts to hear voices. Or just one voice. Someone breathing hard. And he starts to see things. Between the trees. A hand. A foot. Someone moving. Strands of red, red hair.
"Kurama," he breathes.
The demon lunges after him. But when he reaches the tree, and looks around it, there is no one there.
And he shouts his name again. "Kurama!"
And a breathy voice responds, apologetic and tentative.
"Not Kurama. Just Suiichi."
The voice bounces off trees and rocks. The demon whips around, but he cannot locate its source.
The voice whispers, "I'm the human part." Then it asks, "Are you mad?"
The demon hears feet shuffling, leaves scattering. He turns around again.
"Come out," he demands,
"You won't like me." The voice is sad. It continues, "I never said it to your face, but deep down... I really wanted you to like me. And treat me like your equal – like you always have."
Pine needles drift gently down to the forest floor. Moss covers rough stone. A snail inches its way over a rock, leaving a glistening trail. The flora gleams a deep vibrant green. Trees encircle them like a shelter.
"You know, when I planted my soul into that unborn child, the human soul was already there. We merged spirits. I had both spirits – human and demon, but I know which one you preferred."
It sighs. "Now you're stuck with me."
The demon doesn't say a word.
"The foolish part, as you call it." It chuckles a broken, empty laugh. "The feelings, the honesty, the loyalty. Fear, hate, love, duty, affection."
The source of the voice moves, circling the demon, still hidden behind the trees and ferns. The figure too stealthy for the demon's eyes to catch.
"The whole time you've known me – this human side was always there. I'm sure you know that."
Fingers appear, grasping the base of a tree, the figure hidden behind. The demon gives it its privacy.
"But deep down, I've always wondered..." The voice goes very quiet. The demon strains his ears to hear. "...if you hated this side of me."
It whispers, "I'm afraid to find out."
"Do you honestly think I'd come all this way just to kick you while you're down?" the demon says.
"Isn't that why you're here? To laugh in my face? You were right. Akio's life was threatened because of me."
"I'm not here because of that," says the demon. "I came all this way because I had a bone to pick with you. It's about your goddamn martyr's complex." His voice gets louder, enraged. "That shit you pulled at Akio's is the same shit you've been pulling for decades. The dark tournament is a classic example. Sacrificing your life for the sake of others has always been your plan A in your strategy book. If you treat your life so lightly, do us a favor and find a proper way to die instead of taking every opportunity in our battles to throw away your life. Or better yet, if you care about people so much, stop throwing your life away."
The voice remains silent. Stunned.
The demon goes on, "You're just looking for a noble excuse to die. You want to look good until the very end. But the truth is, you're a coward. Death is over in an instant. Living for someone is harder. It takes a lot of work and time, effort. You have to face your own doubts. They may see the parts you want to bury..."
The demon says, "Dying for the sake of others is foolish and naïve. If you really do value your time with them, if what you've been saying really is true, then live for them."
There is a pregnant pause. Thoughts buzzing. Conclusions drawn.
"... are you going to talk to Yukina?" the voice asks.
"Are you going to stop playing dead?" the demon replies.
The voice laughs. The demon turns around, and there is Kurama, eyes beaming, petting a kitsune with fine white fur. His demon spirit. His other half.
"Yes," Kurama agrees. "Let's go back."
.
.
[11]
And isn't it so so sweet. That tearful reunion. It makes me gag.
I've been hungry hungry hungry for everything so boring here so tiresome hungry for something tasty something pleasurable and seasoned fine like a puckering wound or as fresh as that first gasp of pain and surprise and betrayal and shock or a long, tantalizing yarn, a mystery, a puzzle.
Or something deliciously rare,
like a human soul split from a demon's.
And that other demon... my surprise, my little mystery... he was going to be a delicious nut to crack.
Just throw them into my brew and watch them stew. And they were cooking quite nicely until now
now now now it's all ruined and spoiled and I am MAD.
Winds billow and shriek. I uproot the trees. I pull up boulders and hurl them. The demon and that human I leave untouched. They steel themselves, crouched low. Cover their eyes. Shield their faces. The air whips about them and rips at their robes. I come. All fury.
The kitsune yaps. I grab it by its scruff and hold it close. Close enough to wring its neck.
The wind dies down. And the land is deathly silent. Like the eye of a storm.
They lower their arms. The demon narrows his eyes, "We meet again."
"You have spoiled everything," I spit. " So you'll entertain me instead."
The kitsune whines, and I grip its throat tighter until it has no air.
"The land which you trespass calls my name, the trees the wind, the air. The sky, the croaks of the dry cracked earth all say my name. The people they know my name deep down. Do you know it? Can you put a name to who I am, what I am? Can you name my name?" I sneer. "Solve my riddle, and you'll get your dog back."
The human with red hair looks back at the demon, question in his eyes.
The demon steps forward.
"You want me to name who you are?" he says in a loud voice. "You're the reason why that yokai was raiding the human world. You've been greedy for souls, and you've been taking them prematurely. You've even stolen them from heaven."
He takes another step.
"You're greedy for souls, but you don't eat them. You put them here in this miserable little world. And you're content with that. You put them here; they fall to pieces. It adds to the landscape. You grow."
Another step.
"I've walked through this place, and I know it.
I know your name.
I know its stench. I know its weight.
I know its effect on these souls.
I know your name. I've seen Despair."
And isn't that a riot? I let the kitsune go. A grin twists my face, and I cannot help it. I laugh.
I laugh and I laugh and I laugh. Because if he knows my name, then I know that I've marred his soul and that is satisfaction right there.
I wrap my hands around my sides, and I laugh some more. My form shrinks and shrinks into my mortal form. Because names hold power, and what is a riddle without a little risk.
I shrink into my mortal form, and my trinkets and treasures spill about me. A man with orange hair approaches.
The demon draws his blade.
"Let us out," he says.
"If you kill me," I snigger, "you take my place."
The demon points his katana to my throat.
"Let us out," he says. "And return all the souls you've stolen."
"Haven't you been listening?" I shriek. "What is it that all my inhabitants say? There is no way out, there is only Despair."
I laugh and laugh, and he slays me.
.
.
[12]
As I lay dying, the man with orange hair pilfers through my treasures. He finds his dimension sword. He cuts an opening to spirit world. And that demon... I can feel the power leaving me and entering into him. Power and dominion and influence over the lands.
A memory slips from the demon as he walks away. The last (and oldest) memory I will taste. My last moments. It floats down and lands on my tongue mockingly...
"You've changed too Hiei."
He bristled at the comment but stayed quiet.
"Don't deny it," Kurama cajoled him. "I'm not the only one who's changed. We all have."
"Kuwabara has changed some of his priorities in life. He's gained confidence in his abilities, he's set his determination in areas that people used to doubt him in. He's grown dutiful in his love for Yukina, and has seen what real duty and real love, real sacrifice looks like.
"Yusuke. Well, Yusuke's never changed. But he's found more direction in his life. People that believe in him. People that care about him. He's found causes worth fighting for. He's found himself to be a natural leader. He may have found more value to his life than ever before.
"And you, Hiei... your world has gotten larger. Your world used to consist of you and your sister. The rest of the people were just obstacles in the way or a means to an end. But now – you have comrades. People you respect. And your mission is complete. Yukina is alive and well, and safe. What will you do now?
"Will you go back to one of your old schemes, take over the human world and wreck your vengeance on all of mankind that has wronged your sister. I doubt it. You've also changed.
"You know a good number of humans now. Even if you don't admit it, it's obvious your opinion of their kind has changed. They're not all incompetent degenerates are they? You've seen and experienced more kindness, more loyalty, more love than you ever have before...
"And it will make you brave. So take courage. I have no doubt it'll change you even more."
.
.
[13]
Hiei is going to see Yukina, and he's going to tell her the truth.
This is what he thinks, and this is what he promises, because he's done being a coward.
He'll return from this wasteland, and go to Genkai's. He'll find Yukina in the garden, watching the birds. He'll walk straight up to her, even though his self-preservation is screaming for him to run, and he'll say those words he'd always wanted to say but was too afraid to say, didn't know how to say,
"I lied to you, and that was selfish. I lied to you, and you knew it, and you let me keep that lie.
But let's stop playing dumb. It's stupid. I've been stupid.
I'm the brother you risked your whole life searching for.
I'm not worth any hero worship. I doubt I'm what you imagined your brother to be.
I don't think I'm worth searching for.
But I'm going to stop making your decisions for you. I'll let you decide.
If you'll have me as your brother, I hope you can tolerate my company."
[Fin]