Shonen
A Yuyu Hakusho fic
by Chester Castañeda
Disclaimer: All characters used in this fanfic (save some others) are the rightful property of Yoshihiro Togashi, Shueisha, Fuji TV and St. Pierrot. Don't sue me please, I'm very poor.
Ah, yes; the second chapter. Didn't think I would make it, but I felt indebted to bring Yuyu Hakusho and its characters to life in fanfic form. C&C always appreciated.
Chapter 2: Seedlings
"Where's Yusuke?"
It was a simple enough question. Simple, straightforward, to the point-if one could ignore the subject in question. That would be about as easy as ignoring a dancing pink elephant.
"Hee hee! Pink ele... I mean, no. I haven't seen him."
Keiko Yukimura tilted her head and stared peculiarly at the silly, curly-haired youth in front of her. Honestly, sometimes she just couldn't understand what was going on in that head of his.
Kazuma Kuwabara heaved an exasperated sigh at the cute, brown-haired girl. Why was it that cute girls like her tended to be so slow on the uptake? Wasn't it obvious? There was only one simple answer to her question anyway. Yusuke Urameshi. Couldn't get any simpler than that: Yusuke Urameshi.
"Where could he be?" Keiko asked, failing to hide the look of unmistakable concern on her face.
"Keiko-chan, you have to understand that Urameshi's a big boy now," Kuwabara explained, gesturing his hands in a wide arc to demonstrate his point. "He punches out monsters like they were fluffy pillows... with frills! He also discovered that he's a demon of some sort-and not just any demon, but the descendant of a great Demon Warlord! Honestly, Keiko-san! Do you really have to worry about him this much?"
Keiko was... speechless, to say the least. Kuwabara finally got his point across. Maybe a bit too well; he certainly didn't expect this sort of reaction.
Keiko carefully recollected the words. Demons... Monsters... Warlords...
"Kuwabara-kun, what sort of a mission is he in this time?" Keiko... articulated, using even wider, more threatening gestures at the big, ugly meanie.
"WHAT? I... w-was... Keiko-chan, p-please... s-stop... s-shaking!"
The young girl relinquished her grapple hold on Kuwabara. "Sorry, Kuwabara-kun-but don't scare me like that!" She lightly hit the big lug on the shoulder.
"What? I was only... Ah, heck." Kuwabara simply shrugged. Girls. Who could understand them? "Urameshi can handle himself, you know that."
"I know, I know! But that won't stop me from worrying," Keiko hesitantly said, her voice subdued. "He left without telling me why again," she added softly.
"I don't know much either. He hasn't told me about any new missions. Not that I'd want to get into all that trouble with him again," Kuwabara declared, his arms folded to indicate his supposed disapproval. He looked around: There was already a crowd forming as they approached the middle of the lunch break. "We better go before we get crowded in."
Keiko nodded, wistfully thinking, 'Yusuke, where have you gone to this time?'
Walking back towards the dojo for the umpteenth time after playing 'Hell Street 2' for the umpteenth time, Yusuke Urameshi opened the two massive doors, slammed them shut, moved towards Kurama, and, sitting cross-legged, demanded for the umpteenth time, "Can you tell me NOW?"
"Not yet, Yusuke," Kurama responded as patiently as only he could, very much akin to a mother gently trying to appease a tedious eight year old. He was tempted to wave his finger a la 'kaasan' for effect, but laughed at the thought. Though he seemed not to have had a childhood where his mother frequently admonished him, he had seen his mother angry before.
"Hello? Human World to Kurama?" Yusuke teased. "We can't wait for those two forever! Besides, we're probably in another mission, right? Yet another mission of dire importance that has a set deadline or else the Human World is done for?"
"No. That is, I don't think so," Kurama tentatively answered, more to himself than to Yusuke. "The fact is that I don't think the supposed 'new' mission is a mission at all to begin with."
"Come again?" Yusuke queried in confusion.
"The Spirit World assigned Hiei and I to a mission; a vague reference of an investigation. Now, I'm thinking, 'Why would they do that, instead of informing Yusuke outright?'" the redhead expounded further, voicing out his earlier concerns.
"I see." Yusuke nodded, his hand on his chin. "Could it be like that time with Hiei? I mean, when they gave that tape to him first so that he could forward it to me so he'd know it was his sister that was kidnapped... right?"
"There's more to it than that. Then, Koenma had at least a vague idea of what was going on," Kurama said, going deeper in contemplation. He remembered the last time Koenma had no idea what he was getting the four spirit detectives into. It was during the time when they fought against the Toguro Brothers.
Koenma was in the Spirit World library trying to find out more about their enemies when Kurama caught him red-handed. It was more than a little upsetting to know that the Spirit World itself could not handle such matters.
"What are you trying to say, Kurama?" Yusuke queried, curiosity getting the better of him.
"What if the Spirit World doesn't know what's happening this time? What if they have no idea who this 'entity' is? This certainly won't be the first time," Kurama proposed, again coming out of his daze. The more he thought about the situation, the more uncomfortable he became. In a perfect world, things made sense: This was definitely not a perfect world.
"So what you're trying to say is that we're on our own yet again in this mission?" Yusuke stated as he processed the information he had just received. "That's certainly nothing new."
"And that the Spirit World doesn't think that this is a mission in the first place," Kurama further elucidated, idly holding the empty ceramic teacup. "This so-called entity, for them, simply does not exist."
"Oh. So if the Spirit World itself doesn't think that that thing exists-Oh, man." Yusuke shook his head.
"I know. It doesn't make sense, at times," Kurama agreed. "We're looking for something we totally have no knowledge about, something that may probably not even exist, at least doesn't exist for the Spirit World."
"No, I mean I'm sick and tired of all this 'entity' crap! Doesn't he have a friggin' name or something?"
Kurama stared at Yusuke. Hard. Then he simply laughed and sweatdropped. He had just encountered yet another 'Yusuke-ism' that he was yet to get used to. Yusuke was interesting that way. "Well, I suppose we could name him-"
"...Munashii," Yusuke offered.
Munashii. The empty void. Nothingness. It certainly had a deepness and timbre to it-a feeling of symbolism, even. The name sounded rather appropriate for the enemy: a faceless man, an unknown and mysterious being. "Why 'Munashii'?" Kurama felt compelled to ask, even though he should have known better.
"I got the name from the final boss of Hell Street 2! He's so broken, his vacuum attack can mean instant death to any character who's taken a hit when it's fully charged-it can even dole out twice the damage when you block! He might as well call it his 'Instant Win Move', the unbalanced bastard," Yusuke rambled on and on, much to Kurama's dismay. To expect depth from Yusuke Urameshi was an exercise in futility.
"Besides, the way Hiei described him, Munashii would probably be a fitting name; he had this hole in his chest that sucks energy the same way black holes suck everything else," Yusuke further commented.
"Hiei... talked to you about it?" Kurama asked, both amused and bemused at the same time. "I thought he would simply leave after waking up."
"Ah, hell... He gave me a farewell present first," Yusuke grinningly said, motioning towards the plaster on his face that he got on his way to Genkai's temple. "He was kind of worried about you. I guess that was why he put up with me."
"Oh? Worried?" Kurama jokingly asked, but his features showed that he was only half-joking. "Whatever for, Yusuke?"
"He said that the guy was looking for you," Yusuke divulged, also adopting a solemn state of mind. "The guy... Munashii... said 'It's Minamino Shuichi whom I want.'"
It was as Kurama had thought... and feared. His premonitions from earlier-his worries for his mother and his friends-had been confirmed. What he most feared was not what could happen to him, but what could happen to those who were close to him; that they could be hurt just because of him.
"Kurama, don't worry about it. I'm sure everything will work out fine," Yusuke assured consolingly. Sometimes, he kept getting the impression that the older boy thought over situations way too much. "Don't take on all the responsibility. You don't have to carry the whole world on your shoulders. We're all here to help."
"Thank you, Yusuke," Kurama managed to say, worry still evident in his evergreen eyes. 'You're more perceptive than I give you credit for, Yusuke,' he added to himself in silent amusement.
A gentle knock was heard. The silence that ensued allowed the soft sound to permeate inside the almost-empty dojo. Both teens looked towards the door.
"Yusuke-san, Kurama-san... Kazuma-san is here."
Yukina sighed wistfully as she continued her manual labor. She had been very thankful of Genkai's hospitality, and continued to be so because of the elder woman's silent guidance of the ways of the Human World. Even after her kidnapping and her discovery of how 'inhumane' humans could be, the old master had been an antithesis to that, being so kind to her and all.
It had been quite a long time since Yukina left the Land of the Ice Maidens, her home, for the alien Human World. She'd been very frightened of the prospect of leaving her birthplace, yet she felt adamant that she needed to go. She didn't really miss the koorime sisters that she left, especially after she discovered what they conspired to do to her brother. But Rui, unlike those horrible elder koorime, she couldn't help but miss, despite the fact that Rui was the one they forced to banish her twin sibling.
The young koorime girl suddenly shifted her pace and finished up sweeping the patio. She'd hoped her menial toil would at least help take her mind out of certain state of affairs, but the fact that the work required little to no concentration on her part had not helped in avoiding her train of thought.
Rui... dear, sweet Rui... her friend, her big sister, her guardian; she had always been there for her, supporting and caring for her ever since her mother died out of grief for the forbidden child that was her brother. Rui, with her own cross to bear, had looked for solace and retribution through the ice maiden she unwittingly sinned against. They were both lost and forlorn, wandering aimlessly through the voyage called life. It was as if they needed each other to fill in the gaps in their lives.
Rui... who was also the one who caused her to flee from the icy region that was her home towards the foreign land of the humans... made her leave behind the only woman that she knew as family and the land that, for better or worse, she knew as home to find a total stranger.
She held back a familiar sense of guilt as she saw the strange mix of hurt and acceptance in the older koorime's face when she confirmed her departure. The younger ice maiden had been obstinate about it, but she just couldn't get over her feelings of regret and betrayal for making her decision. Then again, she couldn't have done it any other way, especially after learning the truth about her brother.
Yukina stared at the pile of leaves near her feet, looking intently at the foliage but not truly looking at them in the truest sense of the word.
Her brother; her estranged sibling that continued to be an enigma, a puzzle to be solved. He continued to be a stranger to her, much to her disappointment. It was as if she was always kept at bay. It was as if she was constantly pushed away. He was here, somewhere in the Human World, but she had yet to truly reach out to him. No, she hadn't found her brother yet. Not quite yet.
But she was sure that he was a great youkai: a brave and honorable warrior. That was her brother. He was here... somewhere... lost, but should soon be found again. He was in a chasm deeper than the one he was thrown into when he was a baby-a deeper, unreachable, bottomless chasm. She deeply missed her brother. If only he could just... reach out... then he wouldn't be so lost. Then she would have truly found her brother.
"YUKINA-SAN! WA-I!" was the scream the young koorime heard from a distance. She looked towards the top of the long flight of stairs that reached near the gates of Genkai's residence. She giggled once she realized who it was.
"Kazuma-san, what a nice surprise," the young snow woman warmly greeted. It was the silly yet adorable young man, Kazuma Kuwabara. She, for some reason, had always been comfortable around the rambunctious but sweet little boy. "Yusuke-san and Kurama-san are waiting in the dojo. Would you like a cup of tea?"
"I'm sure it's very delicious, Yukina-san," Kuwabara grinningly pledged. He didn't quite know what possessed him to go through another mission with Yusuke. In fact, he was fairly certain that he had been very obstinate about not going the minute he read the crumpled letter Yusuke left at his apartment.
But he did know for a fact that he won't let the idiot steal the show and do all that cool, fun stuff by himself. Besides, this was an opportunity to spend some time with the ice goddess, Yukina. "Mmmm! Very delicious!"
"Yes! Genkai-baasan made the herbal tea herself, so I'm sure it is," Yukina enthusiastically replied.
"Oh. Of course. E-heh..." Kuwabara trailed off with several mumbles after recovering from his facefault. As a result, he didn't immediately notice the sudden uneasiness the ice maiden felt. "Still, it's an even greater treat by the mere fact that you're serving it. Eh, Yukina-san?"
The fourteen-year-old bush-haired boy rubbed his head sheepishly as he discontinued his discourse with the broom. The ice maiden, on the other hand, was now trotting towards the dojo to announce the new guest's arrival. But she then felt another presence among the shadows of the trees. She could have sworn that there was movement over that direction.
'Could it be...? '
After a brief pause, she continued towards her destination even as an orange-haired youth began to clumsily follow her, professing something about undying love.
"Yusuke-san, Kurama-san. Kazuma-san is here," Yukina very shyly informed as she realized she had abruptly ended an apparently urgent meeting. "Sorry for disturbing you both," she quickly added.
Kurama waved a hand of dismissal. "It's all right, Yukina-san. Let Kuwabara-kun-"
"URAMESHI, YOU IDIOT!" shouted a blue and orange blur that unexpectedly appeared in front of the half-demon human. "Why didn't you tell me that we were on a mission? Keiko was so worried!"
"Who said that we're on a mission?" the raven-haired boy smugly retorted, but quickly added, "What did Keiko say?"
"What do you mean we're not on a mission?" said a thoroughly confused Kuwabara. Did that mean there wouldn't be any fighting orgies (orgies that involved fighting instead of the more popular connotation of the word, of course)? No pummeling of monsters and various other demons into submission? No fun? "Er... Keiko-chan said that you were an idiot and that you didn't keep your promise or something."
"I kept my promise because we aren't on a mission!" Yusuke practically yelled. "She worries too much, that silly girl-Eh, Kuwabara? You okay? You seem to be shaking."
"What... do... you... mean... NO MISSION?" Kuwabara said in deliberate slowness, putting a lot of emphasis on the last two words. "What the hell did I come here for?"
"Who asked you to come? I didn't tell you anything about this, and you're certainly not welcome." Yusuke shrugged. He meant to tell Kuwabara from the get go, but why bring that up now? He was in a rush anyway as soon he read Kurama's memo.
"I did," Kurama said with certain finality. Both teens immediately became quiet. "I also gave Kuwabara-kun a letter."
"You did?" Kuwabara asked, bewildered. "I didn't... Oh, the junk mail."
There was a collective sigh from almost everyone in the room.
"Dumbass," Yusuke affirmed, shaking his head. "So how'd you know about this meeting?"
Kuwabara shrugged. "Your mother showed me the letter while I was checking out your apartment... Keiko told me to do so. Call it dumb luck." He was treated with a demonstration of collective head shaking.
"Don't insult luck."
"Hey! It's not as if I get important mail everyday!" Kuwabara whined defensively. He was being humiliated in front of his ice goddess-something he wouldn't live down.
"Yeah. Who in his or her right mind would write to someone as ugly as you?" Yusuke teased, having suddenly decided to instigate a real fight.
"You jackass! I oughtta...!"
"Oughtta what?"
"Enough... sit," Kurama commanded in deadly calm. The two young Reikai Tantei immediately complied. With a deep breath, the elder kitsune said, "Yusuke... Kuwabara... We can now start with the meeting. Yukina-san, would you kindly call Genkai? We have urgent matters to discuss."
Yukina bowed politely to the three and then made her way to Genkai. Yet another wave of familiarity greeted her on her way out as she again curiously looked at the slight movements behind the shadows of the trees surrounding the compound. She paused for the briefest of moments before returning to her pace. "Eh? What about Hiei?" Yusuke asked, puzzled. He thought everyone was supposed to be in the meeting.
"What about him?" Kuwabara harrumphed, not at all liking the prospect of the pompous, self-righteous, know-it-all squirt in the same room with him.
"Oh yeah, you haven't heard the whole story yet." Yusuke smacked his fist on his palm as a gesture of his realization. "Hiei got beat up badly," he simply added.
"You're kidding me right? Don't tell me. It's another powerful demon out for revenge on Hiei or something," Kuwabara guessed, finding the whole thing too unpleasant for him to swallow.
Though Kuwabara would never actually admit it to anybody, he was a bit uncomfortable with the fact that the master of the Kokuryuha had actually been beaten up. Few people could at this point in point. Maybe Yusuke was merely exaggerating.
Yusuke gleefully noted that Kuwabara's false bravado momentarily slipped at the mention of Hiei being defeated. "Yup. Shorty was beaten up like a little puppy. I heard that even with the power of the Kokuryuha, he was no match against the guy."
"Who or what was he?" Kuwabara gravely asked. If it was another Shinobu Sensui, Younger Toguro, or Yakumo, then he was definitely in on the mission, no matter what. However, he didn't notice that he absently shuddered at the thought.
"No one knows," Yusuke admitted, shrugging. "He didn't even give out a name or a calling card, so we've dubbed him 'Munashii' for now."
"Okay..." Kuwabara tentatively assented, though he did have a strange afterthought about fighting games all of a sudden.
"I'll be briefing you with the details of our last encounter, Kuwabara-kun," Kurama reassured.
"What about Hiei?" Yusuke persisted. It wasn't that he wanted the violent fire demon with them; he just had trouble letting go of an issue once it was denied resolution.
"He's already here," Kurama plainly replied, leaving his answer at that.
From a distance overlooking the dojo of the old Spirit Wave Master, Hiei waited among the shadows of the woodland surrounding his current location. He knew Kurama was up to something, calling up this so-called meeting and all. He couldn't really care less about the kitsune's plans; that was, except for-
He tensed a bit as he saw Yukina approach his position yet again, her very presence keeping him on edge all throughout his prowl. The fact that she kept looking towards his direction, seemingly aware of him being there but not actually acknowledging it, didn't help matters. Did she already know?
Did she already know that her brother was... dead?
He silently banished such thoughts from his head as he headed out to the old woman's dojo. The senseless talking was about to start, but he knew what he was after-and he was ready to get it, no matter what.
A strange, deathly calm enveloped Hiei, his eyes becoming two deep, dark pools of crimson that reflected a quiet malice.
"Shall we begin?" Genkai, the former carrier of the Spirit Light Wave Gem, queried the three Spirit Detectives. "This has been dragging on long enough," she added with a smirk.
Kurama drew in an audible breath, seemingly trying to find his center of calm. "Kuwabara, is everything clear to you right now about the previous events?"
The orange-haired teen slowly nodded. "Er, we're fighting some guy..."
"Munashii," Yusuke corrected with a strange hint of self-satisfaction in his tone.
"...Munashii, and he was powerful enough to wipe the floor with Hiei. Um, the Spirit World doesn't really have a clue about him or it-big surprise-so that leaves us..."
"On our own, apparently," Yusuke finished for the tall carrot-topped boy. "So, what have you two got for us, Kurama? Granny?"
"I thought you'd never ask," the elder woman said with a smirk. Yusuke always found his master's smirk quite disconcerting-particularly during the segments of their training where she always wore that familiar sneer every time she was up to something... well... He just didn't like it.
"Grandma's going tell us a story," Kuwabara whispered over Yusuke's ear before being promptly brained by said grandma. Yusuke, because of his quaint snickering, had his share of the blessing afterwards.
Kurama didn't seem the least bit perturbed by the two humans' antics. Instead, he wore his familiar mask of calm, his green eyes becoming sharp slits of cunning and intelligence. The same eyes darted back and forth at the wide space of the dojo time and time again, evidently expecting something. Or someone.
The Master of the Spirit Waves coughed once to get everyone's attention. Accomplishing this, she now began her discourse. "You know very little of this entity who attacked Hiei that fateful night; so does the Spirit World." She took a sip of her tea. "But I know some information about this 'Munashii,' as you call him."
"So... what is he? A demon? A gaki? I heard some of those do make snacks out of souls, among other things," Yusuke inquired, really getting into the discussion.
"Actually, no." Genkai eyed Kurama a bit. The red-haired boy showed surprising calm, even for him. Being the main objective of an undead creature that lay in the physical realm could legitimately warrant even a little distress. "This being, as you're also so fond of calling him, is nothing more than a shattered soul."
Among those present, one absently winced.
"Come again?" Yusuke pensively asked. This was something new.
"Shattered soul? Geez, ain't that from a lyric of a love song or something?" Kuwabara quipped in disbelief. The subject matter sounded too profound for him. Demons and spirits were one thing, but a shattered soul? It was something he couldn't even begin to fathom.
"Before our powerful new nemesis became a shattered soul, he was nothing more than an ordinary human. Well, about as ordinary as any of you two, anyway," Genkai bluntly disclosed.
"There was a legend concerning our little friend," Kurama interjected from out of the blue, finally coming out of his silent reverie. "It was a legend about a miracle man during the Sengoku period."
"A... miracle man?" Yusuke asked, puzzled. "What do you mean by that?"
"He brings people back to life," Kurama reiterated, a small smirk forming in the corners of his mouth. "It's rather ironic, considering what he is today."
"That's how the legend tells it anyway. We all know how a word-of-mouth legend can stretch the actual facts out of proportion," Genkai cautioned, finishing up what was left of her beverage before placing the teacup on the floor. As soon as the sound of the ceramic clicking on the tiled surface became audible, Kurama continued the story.
"But still, we believe that the story has some merit in it, even though we have to take some of its claims with a grain of salt."
The room was silent. Everyone was contemplating these new pieces of information. Kuwabara was still lost with the 'shattered soul' issue; what a horrible thing to happen to someone, even worse than death. Yusuke, on the other hand, was intrigued with the fact that this person might have actually been human, like him... well, sort of... but still, it provoked some consideration. Kurama was simply observing how the other two detectives were reacting to the news.
"So what made this so-called miracle man become a ghoul of death?" Yusuke forthrightly queried.
Genkai relaxed as she braced herself in telling the whole story. Kuwabara, at the back of his mind, remembered his 'Grandma's going to tell us a story' comment. He wisely kept it to himself.
"It all began in a village in the middle of clan war, and the person who was made legend because of it..."
A vision of carnage filled his entire senses; it was a sight full of dismembered corpses. It was, strangely enough, a sight that could almost induce humor because of its gratuitousness and seeming exaggeration, if not for the fact that everything was real. Horribly real.
Body parts were strewn everywhere, piled in such a way that they appeared to belong to some degenerate meat section of the marketplace. He wished he could close his eyes. If it could only have been like a memory-only when did memories actually smelt of rotting human flesh?
The thought of the stickiness of the ground where he stood only added to his nausea. Different liquids poured all over the surface of the ground coming from the makeshift-piled carcasses; to what constituted this vile concoction, he would not even give a second thought about-in horror, not in apathy. The wind was howling a eulogy to the dead, giving a haunting cry that also seemed to originate from the mishmash of cadavers, just like the various liquids on the ground.
He could smell death, breathe death, sense death, and touch death. It was death everywhere. He heard cries from the distance. Were they from friends and relatives? It didn't matter. He was only there to do his work. It would be a pity for everyone else but if there was an off chance that-There! A potential survivor!
Among the decapitated and the mutilated, there she lay. She couldn't have been any more than fourteen, with her short dark hair and bruised but otherwise flawless complexion. She was covered with blood, but mostly from being piled with so many other corpses. What was important was that she was perfectly intact, he noted clinically to himself.
He beckoned to the crowd that was gathered around him. One by one, each had a light of hope that the corpse he had chosen was one of their own. He noted in pity the ones whose eyes were filled with despair as soon as they found out the chosen one was that of a stranger. Soon enough, the relatives of the girl were acknowledged. He beamed with joy upon seeing the happy faces of what could have been either a brother or a friend and a mother. He began the ceremony.
A familiar feeling of warmth enveloped him and the corpse. He felt a kind of peace that was indescribable to him... comparable to nothing. It was just beyond him. The high he got was so comforting... so delicious.
He metaphorically slapped himself for losing concentration. This was for the girl's sake, of course.
He spread the life force all over the young lady. He noticed that the bloodstained kimono's freshest source of blood came from her upper torso; the cause of the girl's death had been repeated stabs on the chest. He concentrated the precious life source he'd gathered towards the aforementioned area and felt it surge from his fingertips to the girl's body.
Slowly, steadily, a warm sensation began to tickle his neck. Was it... breathing? It became fast and rapid-almost panicky-as color returned to the young girl's face. She regained full consciousness afterwards. Right as her soft green eyes stared into his pale violet ones, she became calm. Her earlier panic was no more. He cradled her gently, smoothly stroking her now inexplicably fiery red hair just like the way a mother would cradle a newborn... which was kind of how this situation was, in a sense.
Rebirth. Rejoice. A whole plethora of various emotions tickled into his own body, seemingly seeping into him, as if he were sensitive enough to feel what other people felt, whether pain or pleasure. Still, it was merely an outside sensation, a third-person awareness he merely took note of. It couldn't possibly compare to holding a life force in his own hands, a spirit with its own consciousness, its own being. He dismissed the rest of his chain of thought as he returned the revived young girl to her ecstatic family.
He was exhausted yet happy, although he was also filled with a cluster of other emotions he knew was not his own. He merely shook his head in sympathy as he commiserated with the rest of the unfortunate ones. Oh, how he wished that he could resurrect all those who had died in the battle-but Enma Daio was a cruel god. He turned his back at the jubilant folk. His work here was done.
He then felt an intense sense of gratitude... which was only natural, since he'd just done one of his 'Great Miracles'... yet the intensity it held beckoned him to turn around even before he heard the expected words of thanks and well-wishes.
"Wait!"
He saw the revived young girl's green eyes staring back at him with such vibrant life that it made him cringe at the thought of its fire ever being snuffed out. He didn't quite understand what made him go forward, what made him tilt his head in such a way to gesture the girl to speak.
"Thank you very much," the girl expressed her gratitude, courteously bowing down. As she straightened herself, she gave him a timid smile. The blush on her cheeks was apparent, but he set aside the thought as his own imagination. After all, his feelings were now tainted by the wide range of emotions roiling all around him, not knowing if they were influenced by the general panic of the families of the slain or his own anxiety. "May I please know your name, sir?"
The miracle man didn't quite notice the mother pulling the girl away from him and scolding the young woman for her brashness while she apologized to him profusely. Nor did he notice the words that spewed forth from his mouth as he himself spoke to respond to the girl's question. But he forever etched into his consciousness the next few lines the gentle, bashful girl told him afterwards.
"I'm Asuka. Matsui Asuka. I hope to see you again soon."
Within the room inside the dojo, one of its four inhabitants held back a shudder.
"This guy fell in love with one of his... er... patients? Is that right?" Yusuke clarified with a look of incredulity and confusion. "If he was so nice and great during his time, what's with his gothic shtick these days?"
"He wasn't... isn't... exactly evil. Actually, I see him as more of a victim of circumstance than anything else," Genkai elucidated, taking in a more regal demeanor as she cleared her throat to speak. "Besides, I'm not quite yet done with the story."
"What happened next, Genkai-baasan?"
"He came upon his crossroads, so to speak."
Days went by... Days became months, months became years. Before long, the reputation of the miracle man spread all throughout the land. Thousands flocked him during those times of mysticism and spirituality. Many claimed him to be hoax and a fraud, while others attribute his powers to either that of the lesser demons of the Spirit World or that of the Lord of the Dead himself, Enma Daio.
Not that any of it mattered to the young prodigy. He felt that he was obliged to help people, and that he had a natural affinity towards life, death, and the human soul. But he also gave his blatant disapproval of war and slaughter during his time.
He simply couldn't understand what drove people to destroy something so precious, so beautiful... as life. He continued to criticize the war effort and actively sought a more peaceful compromise in the situation of the society of his day. His efforts were highly praised... though, unfortunately, were also ultimately futile. It was just human nature.
It saddened him that people treated him as a magical solution to their ails, while his calls for peace were at best tolerated, patronized but never taken seriously. All their words of praise and thanks, in the end, were just that... words. The war dragged on for no foreseeable or logical reason other than human pride and greed. Though in the end the subversive rebellion-or so the propaganda of the enemy called it-were defeated. There were no more workers left in the fields, and the general consensus of the battered people toward their so-called leader was that of mutual hate. It was a Phyrric victory in the end. He had told them so.
There would be countless other rebellions, then countless wars... a never-ending cycle of mass genocide. It was as if the people had a innate berserk-trigger in them that sent them into a genocidal frenzy within the guise of fighting for principle and honor.
How very, very sad.
But life went on. He felt powerless because of the conditions affecting the flawed society he lived in, but that was the way things were. People continued to flock him, even as the war ended. He was even given permission to visit the royal court, by the ruler who instigated all the massacres he had 'resurrected' before.
He still felt obliged to continue his commitments, though he felt rather counterproductive, since he never truly helped the people and he was only delaying what was inevitable in their nature. But that was not the worst of it.
What was worse was that the people around him soon became arrogant, blaming him for not having enough power to save all of their kind! They were addicted to him like a drug, and they abused his gifts by bringing even the sick and the elderly to his care. He was now being asked to cure a shogun's child of a mere cold, while there were people lined up behind him with more important cases!
Nearly everyone had become vain and capricious in their treatment of him and his talents, taking him for granted and thinking that he was actually obligated to help them fight against the inevitability of death. It was their unwarranted sense of entitlement over his charity that was slowly killing him-the blade the gutted the goose that lay the golden egg, if you will.
There was only one person in his whole village, in the whole selfish community where he lived, who truly understood him.
Asuka. Asuka Matsui.
Hiei tensed. A familiar presence was taking shape well within his consciousness as the strange calm that he felt before suddenly began to envelop his gut. He mentally sneered.
'You.'
'You're in too deep, koorime.'
'Let's end this now, shadow man. Let's stop your little puppet show.'
'This is no puppet show of mine, koorime.'
'...'
And there was silence once more from the shadows inside the dojo.
"Well?"
He merely stared at his childhood friend's mirth... and her smile.
"What do you think?" Asuka pouted, feigning irritation, but the impishness of her bright green eyes gave her away. "Aw, come on! We don't have all day!"
He stated how heart-achingly beautiful she was in her festive kimono; with her red hair-shortened to the right length-shining in the pale moonlight; the way her smile brightened and warmed the dark, cold night, her girlish figure soon giving way to a more womanly one as she slowly grew up from mere prettiness to stunning beauty. Or at least he tried, as his words became a whole bunch of gobbledygook while he blushed furiously. He then settled for 'nice.'
"Well, thank you for that vote of confidence!" the girl... woman... before him teased. Her bearing and overall appearance made her seem older than she looked, but she was just celebrating her sixteenth birthday today. Today. And he... the eternal dunce... completely forgot! Forgot the date of his best friend's birthday!
"Come on! Are you just going to stare all day? We're going to be late for today's festival."
Festival! Her birthday had coincided with the festival! Of course, that was why she was all dressed up. Not that she shouldn't dress up in any other normal birthday, but... this was going to be an extra special occasion. He scolded himself for thinking of something woefully obvious as he walked side-by-side with his best friend.
He didn't know how it started-Asuka becoming his friend. She was supposed to be just another faceless person in the sea of faceless people that he had saved from the blight of war, disease, or whatnot. He had always been adored and praised by numerous village folk, but the bond he shared with the redhead was something altogether different. He remembered what she had said before, about why she was so glad that he was able to save her.
"Mother would have been so heartbroken if I died. I couldn't stand to see her cry." That was when he realized how different Asuka was from all of the others; from all of them.
"The fireworks are so beautiful tonight," Asuka cheered, gazing towards the bluish-black sky filled with little sparkling gems. The multicolored spectacle further highlighted the whole evening full of goods, games. and gimmicks... a whole night of stealing a peek or two at her soft, gentle, beautiful face without looking like a pervert or a total fool.
They should be going back. The Matsui household was preparing a special 'surprise dinner' for Asuka. Well, it would have been a surprise if not for his big mouth.
Asuka-the calm and gentle Asuka, someone compliant and obedient, but not necessarily submissive-was a highly intelligent young woman. Yes, she was traditional, but she saw fulfillment by leading such a simple and normal life. It mystified him as to why she still spent time with him. Her ideal life and his own life were complete opposites.
"Because you made it all possible; you gave me another chance to live."
That was what she had said about it... or at least that was how he remembered it. He had always felt a certain responsibility for every life he restored to the Human World, yet, strangely, he felt an absolute and particular commitment towards Asuka Matsui's life. But why?
He had felt all sorts of feelings throughout his life. Though they were not necessarily his own, these emotions felt very real to him. Sadness. Despair. Hopelessness. Fear. Faith Jubilance. Happiness. Love. Of all these emotions, it was only love that completely mystified him. Love was all about pain, loss, suffering, and-strangely enough-contentment, delight, and bliss. In all his life, love to him was about duty and fulfilling the happiness of others. It was never about him. His obligation was with them, and not with himself.
And then he realized how empty his life had been without her. It was only through his... love for Asuka that he could finally find fulfillment for himself.
One thing he also learned about life was that she was a total bitch.
"Oh Kami-sama, what's going on? Taka-kun? YOSHITAKA-KUN!"
Silence and emptiness soon abounded feelings of discontentment... numbness... and death.
"So the legendary prodigy-Munashii, the miracle man-had met an unfortunate fate. For twenty years ongoing, since his birth, he had been saving lives by manipulating the flow of life force... of ki... all around him. He played god with his powers, and so in the end it was his own powers that ate him up."
"Ate him up? Whaddya mean, ate him up?"
"It was an inverse of what he used to do. For many years, he had given the dead new life by gathering the ki of the surrounding area and imbuing his own powerful ki into them. Soon, all his charitable work had taken its toll on his spirit's ki-balance. Instead of giving life, his body was forced to suck up the life force of others to support his own ailing health."
Death.
He could smell death, breath death, sense death, and touch death. It was death everywhere. How long had he been unconscious? It didn't matter. His heart palpitated to new life as he raced out of the darkness of his nearly comatose state to a startling awakening of an appalling reality.
'He who brings life also takes away life.'
His panic-stricken, maniacal wails filled the empty court. The silent yet haunting cries filled in his consciousness long after his tears had dried out.
The surroundings had adopted a palpable gloominess to them, presenting was a grim picture of what he feared the most. Various corpses littered the landscape. Happy merrymakers had become mere bodies; what had been persons were now lifeless objects. Things. What had him more worried than the horrid scenario was the fact that he had never felt more alive in all his life!
Silence. He never knew that silence could be deafening-that numbness could hurt. Even in a battlefield filled with the dead, at least there were numerous mourners filling his sensitive consciousness with various emotions and feelings that assured him of... life.
Death was never much of a nemesis to him. He instead saw death as an obstacle, an obligation, and a job to be done. Now he knew death as others knew it; infinite emptiness.
No... No! Death could not... could never... condemn him! He was beyond death! No, he would bring everyone back to life. He would do that to show that not even death could defeat him! He was death's master!
Yet he knew that was but a mere lie. He knew of the growing hunger that had welled up in him ever since was forced to take on the responsibility of overcoming death. He knew that what he had given away had taken its toll on his body and was now seeking recompense. What he feared even more was that he could not let go of the lives that he had taken.
He couldn't. The precious sea of life force inside of him was the only thing that separated him from the cadavers that surrounded him. He feared the emptiness, he feared the silence-he feared that they would come to eat his own person, just as it did with these people. He was afraid to let go, for he knew the reason why this had happened. He himself was dying.
But it was wrong! He had no right to take the lives of others to prevent his own demise! But the thought of how much he had given to these foolish people and how logical a reparation for them to... No! This should not be! But why couldn't he bring himself to return the lives he had stolen?
Because it belonged to him! These people-all of them-had abused him. It was unfair for him to become a martyr for a society who couldn't care less about him! For once in his life, he need not be used, he need not be taken for granted. He would make his own decisions... his own will... his own volition... his own choices... his own love...
Asuka.
He could not bear to look. He could not bear to see her as he had when he first met her; pale, gray and... dead.
He already couldn't forgive himself for killing-murdering so many people, but he would condemn himself to a fate worse than death if ever...!
He felt the hunger again. It ravenously ate up the ki that was inside him. It horrified him further that he consumed such a precious substance like it was mere fodder. He dared look at his friend-his only friend-for one last time.
He made his decision then and there.
"Munashii returned the stolen life forces in his body as his powers ate up his own ki. Even though most of the villagers had their lives returned to them, some were not so fortunate. The voracious hunger that was inside the miracle man had made it too late for them. He, who was once a savior, was now deemed a danger to the community. Thus, Munashii... humiliated, despised, and dying... was banished from the village. Only one person dared go with him."
"The Asuka chick, right?"
"Yes. And so here was where the many legends surrounding Munashii began. 'He who escaped death for he had no soul.'"
"Taka-kun?"
Asuka. She dared deny herself her future, her own happiness, for him. He wished her to stay in the village, to avoid harm and scorn, yet even though he knew it was selfish, he still wanted her to stay with him.
"Taka-kun, are you all right?"
He had murdered-murdered in order to live. What was once his gift was now his curse. He was a living plague that destroyed all that lived. Whole forests were turned into decaying marshes, grasslands into veritable deserts. No living creature was spared from his hunger; all except one, the only one who gave meaning to his existence.
"Taka-kun. No."
He was tired; sick and tired of his existence. He was glad that, even for a short while, Asuka would be with him till the very end.
"Taka-kun, you have to eat! You can't die now!"
How ironic for her to refer the murder that he did as consumption. He couldn't kill anymore-he didn't see any purpose in it. It had to all end sooner or later. Retribution was now at hand for the one who had played god for so long. What a fitting end.
"No. You can't...!"
Asuka. Dear, sweet Asuka. He had done nothing but made her suffer ever since his powers began to degenerate. Even if he had saved her life, it couldn't make up for all the suffering he had put her through. And now he was going to make her suffer more. But it was all for the best.
"I won't let you die!"
There was nothing she could do for him. It was his time. It saddened him that even in the end, he would end up hurting her, yet he was glad. Glad that she'd care so much for him.
There was a nearby village from where they were standing. Maybe she could go there and forget all about him. She could finally live the normal, stable life that she longed for. He knew... felt how it nearly broke her heart to leave her mother and brother like that back in their former village. Now, this way he wouldn't be hurting her so much. Yes, this truly was for the best.
"I won't... l-let... you... die! Even if..."
The darkness was so... welcoming. Maybe the emptiness that he feared for so long wasn't so terrible after all. Actually, it felt rather peaceful. For once in his life, he felt peace.
"Even if I have to sacrifice myself for you!"
No. She shouldn't. She should stop this foolishness. She couldn't... She couldn't...!
"Matsui Asuka sacrificed herself to give Munashii a few more minutes of life, and she did it with no qualms or second thoughts," Genkai related as she wore a bleak look that emphasized her aging features. "However thoughtless or foolish it might have been, she did it."
"So from there, Munashii became Mr. Gothic Darkness, ne?" Yusuke supposed.
"From there, no one knew exactly what happened. Perhaps due to what had conspired, Munashii descended into a maniacal madness that drove him to-"
"Shatter his own soul," Kurama finished for Genkai. "From there, the legend of the soulless immortal human who stole peoples' lives began." He sighed as he looked at the two younger spirit detectives. They seemed to be taking the story quite well. It did quiet them down for a while.
"So..." Kuwabara started, intending to break the ice. "What does this have to do with us? I mean, what does Munashii want with you?" He shifted towards Kurama meaningfully, his earnestness apparent in his eyes.
"I don't know," Kurama confessed, giving Kuwabara a token smile that acknowledged his lack of knowledge. "For all I know, I could just be another victim; a youko's soul could probably prolong his life considerably. Who's to know?"
"I don't know about that. I think he'd be sick and tired of living that way. Why would he prolong his suffering?" Yusuke considered, again getting into the heat of the conversation.
"Because he wants to punish himself," explained a familiar voice.
The four resident ghost fighters froze in their place. Kurama was the first one to speak. "Hiei."
From out of the shadows, the jaganshi halfling came into the light. His katana shone a bright orange-red glint, while his crimson eyes wore a look of blankness and emptiness. Before anyone could react, he had already moved.
A bleak darkness and flashes of blue replaced the mellow light of the candlelit room. The fight had begun.
To be Continued...
Next: The confrontation with soulless.
Note that I put in the title Shonen not Shonen-Ai. Shonen-Ai (male-male relationship) and yaoi are just not my cup of tea. This is dedicated to Chimamire Kitsune for giving me the inspiration to write this fic. Wherever you are, this is for you.
Ja ne!
Abdiel
