Disclaimer: Kenshin does not own the Yuu Yuu Hakusho characters (they are the property of Togashi Yoshihiro et al), and does not make any money from said characters. Don't sue.

What Kenshin does own, however, are all the original characters presented in this work---animal, demon, human or other. Any attempt to "borrow" these characters will be met with the katana, or worse.

The events in Idiot Beloved take place shortly after the Dark Tournament; Firebird Sweet directly follows that timeline.

Title: Portrait of the Demon at Age 50 (C2: In Search of The Lost Thought)

Author: JaganshiKenshin

Genre: General

Rating: T

Summary: Shizuru is out of the frying pan, but into the fire of a faded memory.

A/N: After leaving the preview of Portrait up for so long I have finally revised it, and now C2 is here. C3, alas, will take somewhat longer to complete. Please review!

I'm late, I'm late, for a very important date....

Portrait of the Demon at Age 50 (C2, In Search of The Lost Thought)

by

Kenshin

Shizuru had never been carried by Hiei before.

It was odd, the way the transit occurred: how he so easily supported her, with her greater height. All she sensed was a brief breathlessness, a bounce or three, and then they touched down in front of a small cafe, far uptown of the destruction. The distant wail of sirens was their only companion.

Shizuru had first met Hiei at the long-ago Dark Tournament, and although they had not exchanged two words, his actions revealed him as a brutally efficient killer who had nonetheless refused to slay a fallen, helpless enemy---even at that enemy's behest.

Nor had she ever been particularly afraid of Hiei, once she got to know him better. Still, she hadn't seen him in---how many years? And to casually launch an attack of such magnitude---

Some of her fear had dissipated, leaving her to wonder whether her reaction was to Hiei himself, or merely the aftermath of witnessing the horned monster's demise at his hands.

Eyes burning from smoke and silver light, Shizuru couldn't see very well. But the cafe seemed cheerful enough, with four tables lined up against the large window that faced the street. A long counter with coffee machines lined the opposite wall, and against the back wall was a door and a large refrigerator case filled with drinks. No cashier was in evidence.

After depositing Shizuru at the nearest table, Hiei went to pour two coffees. Leaving entirely too much money on the counter, he grabbed a packet of biscotti from the display, stuck it in his teeth, and brought it all back at one trip.

He balanced it well. But then he had always had superb balance.

Although the heartening aroma of coffee filled Shizuru's senses, part of her insisted this could not be happening.

"The barista's probably spacing out in the bathroom." Hiei spoke around the packet clenched in his teeth, then took it out. "Even at this distance, people tend to do that when I...." He shrugged, trailing off. "If they remember seeing anything, they think it was just some random flash of light bouncing off a window." He slid the packet of cookies and a coffee across the table for her. In the saucer lay a spoon and two tablets of sugar. "I'm not surprised you could remember it, though. Your sixth sense was always the strongest among us."

Remember? Trembling, Shizuru could make no reply, whether because the cafe was cold, or she was still battling fear.

Unwinding his white scarf, Hiei draped it over her shoulders, still warm from his own fierce heat. Then he pushed the cup into her hands, allowing its warmth to seep through her.

"Hold still," he commanded. Tilting back her head, Hiei thumbed one eye open, and from a small white bottle, deposited soothing drops in her eyes. "Better?" Nodding, Shizuru blinked.

Hiei was therefore in perfect focus when he settled across from her, pinched a pair of contact lenses from his own eyes, and anointed himself as well.

Contact lenses? Shizuru wondered. Vision problems? At a cursory glance, Hiei looked very much the same as he always had: bristling black hair with its white starburst, white headband that acted as a ward for his third eye, the other two eyes a clear, hard scarlet.

But she could not shake the strong feeling that something about the situation was unreal. Woozy, lightheaded and altogether unsteady, Shizuru considered the possibility that this was a dream. She had overslept on this crucial day. But this day was crucial---why?

Hiei now regarded her steadily, causing her to run self-conscious fingers through her graying roots. It was as if Hiei was cataloging each line, each wrinkle, but if he passed judgment, he kept it to himself. "Can you hear yet?"

"Well---" She knew her voice was too loud. "My ears are still ringing, but yes."

"I can't. Not at all."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "But you sound---"

"Normal? I've learned to read lips and modulate my voice. In a while I'll be able to hear again." Hiei picked up the contact lenses, which appeared to have a gray tint to them. "These things keep me from going blind, but they're a one-use deal." So saying, he vaporized them.

"I hope you travel with a spare."

"In spades," he assured her. "Could have used them back when I first learned the Sword of the Archangel, though."

"Sword of the Archangel? I seem to remember that attack."

"Oh? You have a good memory then."

So why can't I remember... remember... whatever it is I can't seem to remember?

Hiei pushed the packet of biscotti closer to her. "Go on, eat these. You'll feel better."

"What about you?"

"Me?" He gave a long-suffering sigh. "Can't eat anything for at least an hour, else it comes right back up. You wouldn't like that." Some of the old glint had returned to his eyes. "I like it even less."

She left the biscotti lying on the sun-streaked table. "What was that just now?"

Hiei lifted his coffee, made as if to sip, then shuddered and put it down untasted. "What was what?"

"Whatever you did to the monster back near the harbor. You didn't use a sword. You didn't announce an attack. I've never seen---or felt---anything like it."

He shrugged. "I hardly know myself."

"When did you learn it? Who--"

"I didn't exactly learn it, in the sense that no one taught me. It was given to me. I don't know by whom." Idly, his fingers toyed with the Rosary around his neck. It was white, the beads reflecting a faint glow, as though they were pearl.

Must've cost a pretty penny, mused Shizuru. "That's a new one, isn't it? The Rosary you used to wear was brown."

He nodded. "Wooden beads. She gave it to me when we met. Shay-san. This is the same one."

"But that's not wood." Shizuru took a gulp of coffee. It tasted real enough: strong, dark, a touch bitter. She unwrapped a sugar tablet and tipped it in, stirring with the spoon.

"Wood?" Hiei stifled a yawn. "Probably not now it isn't." He lifted the pearl-toned Crucifix; as he did so Shizuru could see that the Rosary did not so much reflect a glow as to emanate one of its own.

"The beads changed," he went on. "Gradually, over the years, lightening up, turning from wood to---something else. Maybe it was from exposure to the Sword of the Archangel. All I know is that after the beads turned completely white, I woke up and knew I had acquired this power. I had to teach myself to control it though, just like I did with the Jagan Wave."

"But that thing you defeated back there." She tried to open the biscotti, but her hands were too unsteady. Reaching across the table, Hiei tore the packet open. "Was that an S-class demon?"

"Some half-wit is always smashing through the barrier somewhere." He lifted his lip in a show of disdain. "I have a term for them. Grease-spots."

Such a statement would have seemed sheer bravado had she not just seen Hiei back up his words with action.

Shizuru reached into a pocket for her cigarettes. Her hands were shaking even now, shattering the first cigarette she fumbled from the pack. She slid out another, which remained intact.

Producing a tiny spark from the end of one finger, Hiei lit it. She wondered whether it was the same finger he had used to destroy the horned monster.

This was insane. A creature worse than Gojira had attacked the city, and here they were at a cafe, chatting about it as though they had not been real-life participants in the drama, but were discussing something seen in the movies.

Or maybe it was the only possible way for them both to maintain sanity.

Shizuru blew a long calming ribbon of smoke. "You're still fighting demons?"

"Once you sign on to this program, you can never leave." He snorted. "It's worse than the Yakuza. They only chop off your pinky."

Now that was just the sort of thing Hiei used to say.

"Father Brian once told me I was the first demon to work for Rome in, oh, a century. But he had his facts wrong. I'm the first in a millennium."

"Really?" She nibbled at a lemony biscuit, but it was dry and resisted her efforts to consume it. "A thousand years is a long time. This other demon, do you know who he was?"

"She." He shot her a sidelong look. "And she left no progeny. So I'm the only demon to not only work for Rome, but also to contribute to the gene pool."

Gene pool... Shizuru frowned in puzzlement.

"Something?" Hiei prodded.

"I'm---not sure." She studied the end of her cigarette. Progeny. Gene pool. Those terms---

Never mind. "And are you still a member of Team Urameshi? With an attack like yours, they wouldn't need anyone else."

"Urameshi would dispute that." He gave a crooked grin. "And Kurama still conjures a mean Rose Whip whenever I manage to drag him away from his practice---and Maya---to fight alongside me."

She felt a mild sense of surprise. "Kurama's a doctor?"

Hiei opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it again; Shizuru got the feeling that this was something she should know, but had forgotten.

Hiei shrugged. "He said he got sick of being my personal physician and wanted a chance to make some real money. I only think he was kidding."

"And your other attacks? Or did you lose them?"

"What do you take me for? I didn't want to waste time, that's all, with the monster wrecking public property."

"Still have your fire, too." She took a long, grateful drag of the cigarette. "That always comes in handy."

"Fire?" He rotated the cup in its saucer, staring at it as though he were reading tea leaves. "Yeah, fire. When I finally caved and agreed to help Uncle Brother Thomas write his fire demonary, we really dug up some, ah, interesting knowledge." An odd form of ki swirled around Hiei at that moment, then vanished, much too quickly for Shizuru to catch hold of or understand.

Like my memory. The barest flicker of a man's face crossed her mind, then vanished as quickly as Hiei's odd burst of ki.

Hiei. Master of the Jagan. At one time, he and Shay-san had lived in the Kuwabara house. Shizuru studied him through a veil of cigarette smoke. She and Hiei were around the same age, weren't they? That would make him...

"Fifty," Hiei supplied.

Fifty? "Time flies when you're having fun," she sighed.

Unlike Shizuru, Hiei didn't look his age. The heart-shaped face might have appeared a touch more angular in the strong slanting light. Then again, maybe not. And maybe there was a new line or two at the outer corners of the crimson eyes, but their gaze held the same liquid, amused insolence.

"Fun? I could use a doctor now." Flicking off his mantle, Hiei stretched, grimaced. Every bit as built, too---even more so, the shoulders a shade broader, the arms a touch thicker.

"If only humans aged as well as demons," she lamented. "But then, you live practically forever."

"Not this demon." Covering himself once more, Hiei resumed his seat, and tilted his head to gaze out the window. The sun painted pale streaks across his profile. Still looking away from Shizuru, he added, "Turns out I may not have that much time left."

(To be concluded: Will Shizuru remember? And what does Hiei mean?)

-30-