One
He was a light sleeper by nature; old habits from his past as a thief died hard. So when he felt the explosion of energy, despite its distance, he was awake and moving before he was actually aware of the movement. It took him a few sleep befuddled minutes before he recognized that the energy was not actually near to him... it just felt that way because of the strength of it.
Moving from his bedroom to the main room, he followed the feel of it until he was looking out a window that faced the warehouse district; while he still couldn't see anything, he could most certainly feel it. Demon energy was clashing with the spirit energy of a human, and he couldn't quite tell who was winning. It promised to be a difficult fight for the human, if nothing else, and he was tempted to go and discover just what was going on...
Except he had a store to open in the morning, and it was just passing one am. He weighed his priorities briefly, then pulled back from the window, dropping the shade as an after-thought. He could make himself some soothing tea and tune out the energy with some effort, and he would only lose a little sleep.
That was the plan, anyways. But the battling energy was hard to ignore, even with the tea brewed specifically to help him rest. It just made too many of his old instincts clamor to the fore, and after spending the better part of an hour simply trying to sleep, he gave up. If he couldn't sleep, perhaps working with the flowers in the shop itself would help him.
His apartment connected to the main shop in two ways; one was an inner staircase that descended through the stock room where all the flower pots and vases were stored, the other was the outer stair connected to his balcony, which he used more often. Since there was no one to see, he took the inner stair after changing into his work clothes, and tried his best to ignore the clashing energy.
Working with the flowers, at least, provided an ample enough distraction that he was able to push the fight to the back of his mind. It wasn't his fight, it wasn't on his territory, and the human seemed to be holding their own, whoever they were. If a demon hunter had bitten off more than they could chew, well, he was admittedly going to have a hard time feeling bad about it. A lot of them attacked demons who were harmless; he'd had a near brush of his own a couple of times back when he was still in school. Few cared to differentiate between hostile and non-hostile... and fewer still would listen to reason once they had started to attack.
The battle's abrupt end he actually failed to notice, so engrossed was he in working with the flowers. If he was going to be up, he was going to be productive. And he would just have to muddle through the day as best he could.
Confidence had gotten her pretty far, really. Rando had taken the form of a short, monk-like fellow that she had intercepted not far from the warehouses themselves. She hadn't bought his act for a moment, but had waited for him to lead her to the place where he'd seen 'a most worrisome demon', which turned out to be an empty warehouse.
She'd challenged him, and the fight had gone about as she'd thought. Up until he'd lost his patience and shed the human disguise, which had, in turn, increased his available power.
Her master would have called her stubborn and stupid; Kimiko had to admit, Genkai wouldn't have been too far from the truth. She had evaded the webbing thanks to her speed, and his chanting had a flaw that she countered quickly by simply not giving him the breath to use in speech... but those had not been his only stolen skills. The fire-baseball was one she was going to have to share later, once the burns weren't quite so painful; she had failed to apply her barrier in time, and had taken at least two of those in the chest.
The warehouse hadn't quite gone up in flames, but that was the point she had decided to stop playing nice. Pitting power and skill against power and skill had seemed like such a good idea too...
It had been an incomplete version of her master's Spirit Wave that had finally won the fight, though getting him to come close enough after her leg had been broken had been a pain. She was fairly sure her arm was cracked too, at the very least. Not to mention the ribs. Definitely some internal damage there.
Her heart hurt as well; she hated having to kill people. But it was plain that Rando didn't care about human lives, and thus, he forced her hand. Because like hell she was going to let an asshole like him take Master Genkai's secrets.
She had definitely won... but there were fire trucks approaching, and injured or not, she had to get away. She had enough energy to make a break for it, getting away before the fire-fighters and the police surrounded the area, but it faded quickly, tying itself up in the effort to heal her injuries. If she could have sat for a bit... But no, if she sat, she'd fall asleep, and if she fell asleep, someone was bound to run across her and come to the wrong conclusion. And she hated hospitals.
So she staggered onward, her good arm wrapped around her ribs, trying to stick to the shadowy parts of the sidewalk, absurdly grateful for the early morning hour. She was definitely going to need to sleep the day away after this fight. Hell, she might need two!
Her head ached abysmally as she limped onward; she hadn't gone through the metal walls, but there was no doubt she'd made in impression. Hell, there were probably a couple of impressions in the concrete floor as well, one from her, and one from him. She wondered what the normal humans would make of it; demons and other demon hunters would know, but regular humans? She could almost look forward to hearing those theories.
Almost.
Her vision, she realized after perhaps a moment too long, was grayed out around the edges. Her sight was narrowing into tunnel vision, which did not bode well for her at all. Her foot caught in a crack, wrenching her injured leg hard enough to make her swear aloud as she toppled, trying to shift herself to avoid making her injuries worse as she impacted the cement.
Kimiko laid their for a minute, her harsh breathing echoing in her ears. Maybe she could just... lay where she'd fallen for a few minutes. Maybe-
She heard a door open before she sensed him—that more than anything told her just how weak she currently was. A soft, unfamiliar voice muttered a few choice words before footsteps hurried towards her. The steps were accompanied by demon energy, and she struggled to try and push herself up; she didn't have another fight in her, but she wasn't going to be killed lying down, damnit!
Hands caught her shoulders, helping to ease her into a sitting position.
"Miss, can you hear me?"
"Nn... yeah."
She lifted her head, and managed to look up into eyes that were a startling shade of emerald green. Or at least she tried; she was seeing double, apparently, and wasn't sure which face she ought to focus on. But she did somewhat recognize him as the demon who quietly ran the florist shop. Well. Hopefully he wasn't going to be trouble...
"Can you stay upright if I leave you for a moment? I'll get the shop phone and call you an ambulance."
"No!" and she grabbed his shirt with her injured arm, then swore a little. "No... hospitals. I just need... a quiet place."
She wasn't sure how she was holding on, but at least he hadn't gotten up.
"You're very badly injured miss," he said, his voice low and insistent. "You should go to a hospital to get tended too."
She shook her head, and immediately regretted it.
"I just need rest," she insisted. "I heal... faster on my own. Hospital would just... slow it down."
He made a sound that she recognized as disbelief. On another day she would have been happy to show off, but she was only just clinging to consciousness right now, and all her energy was tied up anyways.
"Please..." She mumbled. "Please?"
"If there's no hospital involved, do you object to being tended to?"
She could have laughed; this demon was actually being sensible! Or at least, willing to humor her.
"None. Just... no hospitals."
She heard him sigh, and then to her surprise he carefully put an arm under her knees, and lifted her up. She swore with the pain of it, but didn't try to get out of his hold; she did need tending to at this point. Her energy could only heal so much, and it was tied up with trying to keep things from getting worse.
"I've got a first aid kit down here, and some plant stakes that will do to brace your legs... I'm going to put you down on the chair now, all right?"
"Kay..."
The chair was not comfortable; it was solid, made of wood... and she was getting blood on it.
"...sorry about this," she mumbled, trying again to focus on him. "And thanks..."
She couldn't make out his expression, but his body language suggested wary concern. After a moment, Kimiko just let her eyes close. She was just so damn tired.
"Straightening your arm and leg are going to hurt," he warned her.
She let out a pained laugh.
"Yeah, I know. Pull away."
She fell the cool scissors that snipped away the cloth over her broken arm, and swore profusely at his swift straightening and binding of the injury. The leg, however, proved to be too much; the cracking of bone being pulled into its proper place and the accompanying pain shoved her those last few steps into unconsciousness.
Shuuichi frowned faintly at the limp young woman, more concerned than upset or annoyed. The morning jogger was in no fit shape to go anywhere; her clothing was ruined both by blood and by his need to address her injuries, and her energy seemed to be at low ebb, no doubt died up with keeping her insides intact.
She had been adamant about not calling an ambulance, but he was considering it anyways...
After a moment, he sighed, and locked the shop back up before moving to carry her again; though it went against his better judgment, he was going to have to take her upstairs, and finish dressing her wounds in his apartment. He had some old, spare clothing she could wear in exchange, and perhaps she might even have an interesting story to tell once she woke up.
A tiny part of him found irony in the situation. Were he still the Yoko of old, he wouldn't have been even slightly interested in coming to her aid. Would, in fact, have done what he could to finish the hunter off. But she didn't deserve that, he felt, not now, unreasonable request or not.
He tended to her various injuries, slowing the bleeding and closing the worst of them up with his knowledge of plants, bandaging those that needed it. It was a bit embarrassing to finish cutting her out of her clothes so that he could see to her wounds, and he privately admitted to great relief once he had her in a shirt that covered more or less everything.
Since she was the guest, he put her in his bed, tucking the blanket up under her chin, and took a step back to briefly study her. Already she seemed to have improved a little; her energy was rising bit by bit, though it centered around her most grievous injuries, and her expression was a little smoother, not so much pained. Her color was slightly improved as well; she'd been very pale, lying there on the sidewalk.
He sighed a little, and went downstairs to clean up. It was going to be a very long day.
It was the smells that finally brought her around; someone was cooking something that... well, frankly, smelled absolutely wonderful. Nothing like her wreck of an apartment, that was for sure. After smell, more sensations blurred back in, bit by bit, and she cautiously cracked open her eyes. The ceiling was unfamiliar, and there was light coming in through a mostly closed shade over the bed; she judged it with a frown, determining after a moment that it had to be around six. Which meant she had quite literally slept the day away.
She sat up slowly, wincing as her body clamored its protests, and pushed the blanket off a little clumsily. Her arm felt mostly healed up, as did her leg, so after looking to make sure she didn't have someone watching her—she could sense him, but not see him, and that was a little worrying—she unbuttoned the borrowed shirt and undid the bandages that held the plant stakes to her arm. She flexed her wrist with care, and while it hurt, nothing grated, or felt like it was out of place. Small favors.
She slid her arm back into the shirt and buttoned it back up, somewhat amused at the size of it; it was much too large for her to wear as anything but a casual shirt... but she appreciated the length of it. Clearly her helper—she was not clear on who, her memories were still on the fuzzy side of coherent, but the energy was... familiar, somehow—had thought it necessary as well, since there was pretty much no way to get on pants over even the makeshift sort of splint on her leg.
She undid that one too, carefully rotating knee and ankle to check it. Fragile, she decided. She could limp home with some help, or crutches, though. With some food, her energy should finish bouncing right back up, and she could heal it better then. It would be tender—all her injuries would—for a few days, but after that, she would be ready for another round of ass-kicking.
"Ah, you're awake. That's good; I had hoped you would be up in time to eat something."
She jumped, mentally cursing for letting herself get so distracted, and looked up to see the red-haired florist shop owner, whose name she didn't actually know. He was standing in the doorway of the room holding a tray; on it was a bowl of what looked to be soup, and a salad, a cup that looked to have something in it, and to her complete surprise, a tiny vase that held a sakura flower. Something about the absurdity of the tiny flower relaxed her enough that most of her wariness evaporated.
"Uh. Yeah. Hi. Thank you?"
"How are you feeling?" he asked, carefully putting the tray over her outstretched legs.
"Better," she admitted. "Sorry about... everything? I must've been a wreck..."
He smiled faintly, and pulled over a chair to sit on. She noticed absently that there were a pair of pants draped over the back; it struck her briefly as odd, since he didn't seem the sort to do that.
"It's not the first time I've had to help someone with injuries, but yours were a bit more extensive than I've had to deal with for a while."
"You did really well. The parts that hurt now are mostly just the bruises..." She carefully tested the soup, and her eyes widened a little. "Wow. This is really good!"
"I added some restorative herbs to it, and to your water. You should eat now, and maybe afterward, you can tell me what happened?"
She thought about it for a moment, then shrugged; he had tended her injuries, and was letting her sleep in a bed. Probably his, if he didn't have a guest room. She could do that much, at least.
"Sure. Though can I ask you something?"
"Yes?"
"How badly wrecked are my clothes?"
"I'm afraid they're a complete loss, miss," and his faint smile turned rueful. "There wasn't much chance they could be saved, so I put them in the trash bin."
"Figures," she sighed. "Next time, don't wear the favorite shirt."
It startled a chuckle out of him, as she'd hoped it would.
"I'm Kimiko, by the way. Urameshi Kimiko."
"Minamino Shuuichi. It's nice to actually meet you, Urameshi-san."
"Don't worry about formal," she said with a dry grin. "Just Kimiko is fine."
"Kimiko-san, then," he replied, nodding a little. "Then you must call me Shuuichi."
She grinned.
"Gladly."
She turned her attention to the food as he left the room, quite happy to eat and drink until her stomach said it was full. The restorative herbs kicked in surprisingly quick, giving her a much needed energy boost. She shooed the energy towards her arm and leg, though it would still take another few hours before they could be considered back to full bone strength, never mind the muscle damage... Explaining the bruises were going to be interesting, but bruises weren't worth the effort of manual healing; they'd be gone in a few days on their own.
She grabbed the pants that had been sitting on the chair and pulled them on, then carefully stood. Kimiko's leg sent up a vehement protest as she put weight on it, but she gritted her teeth and pushed through the pain, hefting the tray and limping her way out into the living room.
It was nice, she decided after a moment of thought. But then, pretty much everyone she knew had a nicer place than she did. Mostly because she didn't put much effort into her apartment, because she never had anyone over anyways.
He had a number of plants in various places, a long, dark brown couch that held a folded up blanket and pillow at the moment—telling her just where he had spent the night, or was he planning to sleep there and let her stay another night? Something to curtail quickly, since she could walk—and a much nicer kitchen set up than she did. The place was pretty much spotless at that, making her wonder how he did it.
Shuuichi seemed surprised to see her up, and moved quickly to assist; she didn't try and stop him, since her limp was pretty pronounced, and he whisked the tray out of her hands.
"Would you like more?" he asked.
"No, thanks. I'm stuffed, but it was really good. I'm jealous. I can't cook anywhere near that good."
"A life of bachelordom does lend itself to some necessary skills," he said.
She stared at him for a moment, then grinned. That had sounded like a joke. She had never been able to resist sly humor.
"Or you just give up and resign yourself to takeout~"
He chuckled a bit himself, shaking his head slightly as he turned to wash the dishes in his sink.
"Yes, I suppose that is an option as well. You should sit, Kimiko-san, I expect your leg isn't as healed up as you'd like."
She made a face at his back, but obediently sat in one of the dining room chairs, absently pulling up her leg to gently run a hand over the still-healing injury.
"Not really, but it's good enough to walk home on, so I shouldn't need to put you out another night. And seriously, thank you for helping me. And feeding me. And the clothes. I'll return them as soon as I've gotten the chance to wash them."
"You should really rest for another day," he said, slanting her a glance.
"And I will, but I can make it home like this, so you don't have to spend another night on the couch," and despite herself, she smiled a little. "I hear that's bad for your back, and all."
"Hmm..."
She pulled her hair over her shoulder and started unbraiding it, letting her mind wander briefly. She felt predisposed to liking him, really, much as she had with Yukina. He felt... comfortable. Not necessarily peaceful, but comfortable. Hell, safe, even and she almost never thought that about anyone. And he had abided by her choices, while still finding a way to help her out. As she carefully finger-combed her hair, she kept her eyes on him, then nodded a little to herself.
While this wasn't the way she would have chosen to meet him, maybe it wasn't such a bad thing after all.
"Would you like some tea?"
"Hm? Oh, sure, please. If it's not any trouble, I mean."
"I wouldn't have offered if it was."
"...point. Then, yes, please."
When the tea was made, and she had a cup loosely between her hands, he sat too.
"So, story time?" she said a little wryly.
"I think I can guess at least part of it," he said after a moment. "You're a demon hunter, aren't you?"
"Mmmm... yes and no," Kimiko said, frowning a little. "It's complicated. Demon thumper, maybe, but I don't like killing them when I can avoid it. Unless they're extremely violent, or known to hunt and kill humans, I usually just kick the crap out of them, and then punt them back to the demon realm. If they're being attacked by other demons, or other hunters, I might intervene, especially if they're looking to just get away, and not really hurting anyone. It... doesn't make me many human friends, but," and she shrugged a little, "eh. I wouldn't exactly call myself personable anyways."
"Well, that is certainly a matter of perspective," he said, studying her in what she felt was a thoughtful manner.
To her surprise—and mild annoyance—she felt herself blushing. To cover it up, she took a sip of the tea.
"Next question?"
Shuuichi stifled a smile at her expense; it seemed Kimiko was not use to receiving much in the way of compliments. He had to admit, privately, that turning around to see her with her hair down had been surprising; with it framing her face, her looks softened some. Or perhaps it was the pain that was subtly lurking behind eyes that were a startling shade of purple...
"Hmm... next question indeed," he murmured, idly turning his cup in his hands. "You looked more like someone tried to thump you."
Kimiko's expression became a blend of sheepishness and irritation.
"My master is going to chide me for being sloppy when I next go see her," she said with a sigh. "I suppose I deserve it. So, okay, I don't know how other hunters do their thing, but I get pointed in the direction of the dangerous by letter, and then the rest gets left up to me. Sometimes I get lucky, sometimes I don't. I suppose you could count this time as me being lucky-ish? But it wasn't exactly my best performance."
She made a face, and he had to smile; she was very expressive, far more so than he had thought she might be from his observations.
"I'm getting sloppy, I guess. Master Genkai will have me training pretty hard to make up for it," she paused thoughtfully, her voice dropping to a murmur. "...wonder if Botan-san would let me have all of August? Hm...I'll have to remember to ask..."
He tensed up slightly, unable to help himself. Every demon who knew hunters knew of Master Genkai. A renowned hunter herself, she had unexpectedly vanished after some tournament half a century prior. Seclusion, some had said, for something that had taken place during the tournament itself. He hadn't paid attention back then, more interested in building up his power base so he could challenge other demons for their territory.
So, this girl was her student then? Or perhaps even more than that. She was someone to treat with cautious and care... but she had also responded to his help by being open and frank, not to mention patently informal. Something about that was comforting.
"I assume you won your fight...?"
She grimaced.
"Sort of. It kind of torched a warehouse... I'm not to proud of either part, but I couldn't let a human-hunter keep raising hell in my area. He was bragging how he'd killed over a hundred other hunters after stealing their techniques from them... jerkass."
She scowled down at her tea, then sighed.
"I hate when I get pushed that hard... Not because I don't want to improve, I do, but..." she shook her head a little. "I just don't like killing. It never feels right."
He studied her for a long moment, where her eyes were downcast. She was being very sincere, he decided, perhaps more sincere than she meant to. Did she had no one else to talk to about matters like this? After a moment she shook her head again, and glanced back up at him.
"Sorry. Don't mind me and my drama, I'll get over it," she said, her tone turning deliberately light and airy. "How'd you guess, though?"
"Ah... the power explosion woke me," he admitted. "Probably more than just me, really, you're quite lucky you made it unmolested so far."
She laughed a little, then looked a bit surprised, as if she hadn't expected to laugh at all. A sad smile lingered briefly after, making him wonder yet again who, if anyone, she talked to on a regular basis. She seemed to shake it off quickly enough... but he suspected otherwise.
"One of the first things my master discovered I had a talent for was masking and manipulating my energy. Even when it's all tied up in healing, I can mask my presence pretty well. Enough to be overlooked, anyways," she sighed a little. "Lucky me."
There was a hint of bitterness to the words, but again she seemed to shake it off quickly.
"In any case, I can usually dodge notice that way. I mean, if you're looking for... oh, a giant watermelon," and the faint hint of a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, "and instead saw a tiny little blueberry, would you bother with the blueberry?"
"Some people would crush the blueberry," he pointed out. "Because you can never be too careful."
She snickered a little, and saluted him slightly with her cup of tea.
"Okay, so my analogy needs work. Point being that when you have a big blowout of energy, getting out quick, and making yourself small usually works to divert attention," she said wryly. "In my case, it worked almost too well. Sorry about waking you up, but I'm glad you were. I don't really want to think about how it would have gone if I'd laid there all night."
"It would not have gone well," he said after a moment, "if you dislike hospitals so much."
She shuddered.
"Yeah, no."
"May I ask why?"
She blinked, and looked briefly pensive.
"There's lots of unhappy ghosts around hospitals. Some of them want to possess anyone they can get their hands on. In my weakened state, I'm a good candidate for that sort of thing, and having dealt with possession cases before, they are a pain to clear out. Plus, I really do heal faster without the intervention of needles and drugs and monitoring systems... As you may have already noticed."
"Yes... but I am not as certain as you that you are safe to leave," he said after a minute, studying her.
She stiffened, and judging by her expression, she felt insulted.
"I don't mean to belittle your skills, but your energy is still tied up in your healing. You were limping very obviously, and while there is no certainty that someone would attack, there's also no certainty that they wouldn't. And as you are now, it would not take much effort to reinjure you limbs, which I'm sure you would rather not endure, and it would tax your energy considerably, depending on how far away you live.
"Also," he continued as her insulted look faded into irritated thoughtfulness. "my skills with plants will help with your recovery. While I don't doubt most of your superficial wounds have finished healing, checking the rest would be prudent, and it would be much easier with help, wouldn't it?"
The irritation grew more pronounced, but judging from the way her eyes were flicking slightly, he had to assume she was considering the proposal seriously.
Logic was not Kimiko's best friend at times. Because he was right, damnit, and she didn't really want him to be. She had come to dislike being vulnerable, and being taken care of was something she only allowed family to do. If then.
"Then I'll take the couch," she said.
"You'll have the bed," he countered, his tone turning stern. "My mother raised me to be polite, and the host always cedes the bed to his guest."
"That's just silly," she protested. "I can heal just as well on the couch as on the bed, and it's your bed, isn't it? Not a guest room?"
"Regardless, the bed is yours, and it would please me if you would make use of it, instead of compromising yourself."
She muttered a few choice comments under her breath about stubborn men, huffing her annoyance as she caught the faintest hint of smug relaxation coming from him.
"Fiiiine. Fine fine fine. If you're going to be so stubborn about it-"
"I am."
"-I'll sleep in the bed."
"Thank you," and his smile was just the slightest hint smug. "The bathroom is over there, and there should be some spare towels under the sink. We can rebandage your wounds after you're done in there?"
Since that had been the next thing she was about to snappishly ask, she was actually rather glad he'd volunteered the information. With a somewhat curt nod, she finished off her tea and got to her feet, stomping down a little harder than necessary with her injured leg; it immediately sent a flare of fire up, and she had to grab the back of the dining chair to stay upright, swearing softly.
His hands slid under her elbows, surprising her into looking up, and she saw the concern again, this time without the wariness of the night before.
"Here. Take it slow, and you'll be all right."
The pain had quickly sapped both ire and energy, so she was glad of the help.
"Sorry," she muttered. "I'm used to being... by myself, and I guess some of my master's attitude has rubbed off on me."
She felt him chuckle slightly.
"It's all right. Not everyone is good at being a patient."
That made her huff out a slight laugh of her own, and stick out her tongue. She caught his answer smile, and felt... warm.
The bathroom was small, but functional, and after he pulled out a couple of towels for her to use, he left her to take care of herself. Undoing the bandages after using the toilet was the most difficult part;she hadn't realized quite how many lacerating hits she'd taken in that fight with Rando, and some of the gauze pads simply did not want to come off.
She cleaned off the dried blood in the shower, and forwent trying to relax in his bath; between her removal of all the bandaging, and the hot water from the shower, some of her deeper slices had reopened and were bleeding sluggishly. Annoyingly, a few of them were awkwardly placed on her back, and after putting her underthings back on, she was forced to admit Shuuichi and his box of medicines.
By the time he was done, and she was able to get dressed again, she was too tired to protest being helped back into the bed. As she snuggled down, she was willing to swear that she heard him chuckle, before she was washed away into the tides of dreams.
