Thank you all SO much for the support! I appreciate every bit of it. Without further adieu, I present to you all, chapter 4. :D

I was sitting on the ground, perched on dead leaves. I let out a breath, one of relief.

It came out like a groan, but I was far from in pain. Quite the opposite, actually.

The blind woman was seated behind me. She was humming something I didn't recognize. Not that I would have recognized anything that she hummed.

It was kind of annoying really.

But that wasn't important, and I was easily able to tune it out. What mattered was that I was content.

The weeks were beginning to go by quickly for me. As soon as I had gotten over my initial dislike for the woman who had taken it upon herself to assist me, my wounds were beginning to heal much faster. I could do menial things again without much added stress to my body. Standing and walking weren't much of an issue anymore, though I still found the actions of jumping or running to be somewhat painful.

All in all, I was marginally impressed with my progress. I've sustained many injuries in the past, and never have wounds so severe healed so quickly. The dragon's spit she called an ointment was actually helping. ...Helped, I'd even venture to say. And though I would still find it hard to admit that I needed help at all, I couldn't say I wasn't appreciative—at least to some degree.

Being injured was a nuisance that no one in my line of expertise could avoid. Actually having someone spend their time to solely aid in my recovery was... useful. It wasn't something I was used to, that much is for certain.

As a result, I found myself actually growing accustomed to her presence. So much so, that if I examined the feeling more closely, I'd dare say that I drew a minute amount of comfort from it; something else I wasn't used to. The more days that passed, the more I began to wonder if I should be concerned by it.

Though regardless of the apprehension I felt of my steadily growing comfort around her, I couldn't really pretend it didn't exist. Because, of course, she was always there.

Because of her constant presence, I had learned a lot about her in days past. Aside from her abhorrence to cold weather, I was also learning very quickly that she did not like long silences. She always seemed keen on filling the void, much to my annoyance, and couldn't seem to stay too quiet for too long. From talking, to humming—as she was doing now—...to making the most infernal racket with anything within her reach... She would find something to do.

It didn't seem to matter much to her if anyone joined in either. She seemed to have her own system of combating silence, and it didn't require anyone else to function. A system that I have determined that she has crafted to her own personal perfection.

But aside from the blind woman, I have also learned a lot about myself in my time here. Besides simply becoming too comfortable with her presence.

I let out a sigh.

Indeed, I have come to the conclusion that I have an addiction, which takes me to where I am sitting now.

It wasn't to anything particularly outlandish, but it was enough of a distraction to warrant me considering it a detriment to my overall well-being.

At first it had simply been something I tolerated for the way it could relieve pain. An action my self-imposed caretaker would perform whenever I had done something to injure myself beyond the initial infliction I had endured.

I have never indulged in something as inhibiting and pointless as alcohol or drugs, but I can imagine that addiction to them for pain relief would feel something akin to this.

To that effect, I have determined that I have developed both a love and a hate for it. While it is satisfying, it was making me far too complacent and lazy.

And the only thing that complacency and laziness bred was a quick demise. Years of living under constant threat of attack has taught me that.

However, despite all this, I couldn't seem to distance myself from it. It was a luxury that I had never had in all my years of existence. Something I had never gotten the chance to experience, for several different reasons.

Mostly it was because I had never before met someone who would willingly do me such a courtesy. Even those in my current circle of tolerable friendships would never dare to come too close to me for too long. Let alone long enough to touch me for any extended period of time.

…And perhaps partly, and most importantly, because I have such a complete and utter abhorrence to the idea of being touched. And one could most certainly not experience this with such a near phobia of the action of being... touched.

It was something that I simply loathed; from the idea of being hugged, to something as minor as the awkward human tradition of a handshake. It had never sat well with me.

I suppose my dislike for being touched had risen from, to the most simplest degree, never actually being touched with the intent to alleviate pain. Anyone who has come close enough to touch me in the past has never had such benign intentions. Years of living under constant threat of attack has taught me that much as well.

Though regardless of all of that—all of my survival instincts and past experiences pushed aside—here I sit with my shoulders hunched, and my legs crossed, and my arms hanging limp in my lap, my head hanging down, while she massages soothing circles into my shoulders.

Yes, I have an addiction to massages. Though I don't know how anyone could blame me. Not when she could do all that with just her hands. It could very well tame a dragon.

The simplicity of human life never ceased to astound me. They lived such relaxed and mundane lives. So much so, that they had developed a technique that further instigated their laziness. Utterly ridiculous and atrociously wonderful.

I suppose the reason I was allowing her to actually touch me now was because of the sheer relief I had felt when she had massaged my arm the first time. That moment wasn't something I could easily forget.

I could still easily remember the feel of her hands on my arm. The way she had managed to ease the kinks I hadn't even realized I had.

Her smooth hands on my rough skin felt like satin on sandpaper. The thought made me remember when she had touched my face.

I could still feel her delicate hands on my scarred jaw at the memory. It set my mind at ease, and I relaxed further into her hands.

"My grandmother taught me this. I would always run into things when I was younger and get frustrated. She would do this for me to help me relax." Her voice filtered through my pleasant haze of contentment, and snapped me out of my near trance. When my mind finally translated the words into something coherent, I let out a snort of amusement.

I'm sure it was very relaxing.

"I guess I remember more of it than I thought," she continued, seemingly pleased with herself. I hummed deeply in agreement. It might have easily been mistaken for a moan, but I didn't really care.

There was a moment of tranquil silence that fell over us. When she descended lower along my back, just underneath my shoulder blades, I let out a content sigh.

Her fingers then lifted to gently rake fingernails across my skin—down, then back up. Her nails trailed across a few rough patches of my skin. She lingered over them, feeling their hardened surface with gentle strokes.

"These are... scars?" she asked. A gave an affirmative grunt. I felt her place her palms flat against my back to slide them down on either side of my spine. The sensation made me shudder.

I would never get used to the feel of another's touch, even if I did enjoy the effects. She was an awfully touchy human, too. Though I guess it made sense, considering that was mostly how she saw the world. Through touch.

"You certainly have a lot of them. I've never really felt them before."

Her last comment amused me. Hah. I'm sure she hadn't considering the human way of life.

Her hands slid back up to pause at the center of my back. She rubbed against one of the scars with a thumb. "I noticed you had a few on your face too. You must have been in a lot of fights to get so many."

I humphed. Quite a vast understatement that was.

She paused a moment, then continued massaging my back more slowly. "I guess I shouldn't be too surprised, considering the state you were in when I met you."

I shrugged.

We lapsed into another silence. During it, I almost forgot she was there—my attention solely focused on the pleasing sensation of her touch. Perhaps I couldn't fully get used to it, but what I can say is that the benefits greatly outweighed the initial discomfort.

An ache in my back eased, and I slumped forward in relief.

Yes, I could deal with the discomfort. At least if this was the reward.

"You know, it's suppose to be cold out today. It's getting close to winter." Her voice brought me back to awareness. Though as soon as I comprehended what was spoken, I grumbled.

Not another one of those complaints.

"But... I'm not cold," she said offhandedly, not stopping in her task of evening out the knots in my muscles. "You don't seem to be either."

I gave another shrug. I had no intention of informing her of why I couldn't feel the cold.

Her hands moved back up to my shoulders. "I was sure I was cold when I walked here. It's strange."

Why did she have to speak? I was actually beginning to enjoy her presence.

"You've been without a shirt for more than two weeks now, yet you've never complained..." she mumbled. I didn't bother to respond.

She went quiet again after that, but something told me it wouldn't last for long.

"There's something else that's been bothering me too."

I sighed indignantly. So much for the peace.

"It was the day you jumped on that tree," she started as she moved her hands off my shoulders. I grumbled. I never told her to stop. "I know this forest well. I've lived here nearly all my life. When I was a child, I used to try to climb these trees. I hated being told I couldn't just because I was blind."

Now I had to listen to her childhood stories? And without the massaging as part of the bargain? Lunacy. Perhaps if I fell asleep she wouldn't notice.

"The lowest branches on these trees are well past my height. I've never known anyone that could jump that high."

I groaned.

"And you have pointy teeth..."

"What's your point, woman?" I finally grouched. I doubted she would stop with her rationalizing of my abilities without sating this sudden spark of curiosity.

She seemed a little surprised by my vocal response. "Oh... uh. It's just... not normal I guess," she said, sounding unsure.

The insecurity in her voice made me smirk. "And just what is your definition of normal?" I questioned. Because where I come from, it's not just normal, it's a necessity.

She seemed cowed by my question, as if she hadn't given it much thought before. She was silent for a time before she spoke. "I don't know. But I don't think jumping over several feet in the air is normal."

I gave a haughty grunt. "Maybe not for a human," I said, looking over my shoulder.

I saw her brow furrow in confusion. "What does that mean?"

I sighed. Clearly I had said too much. "Nothing you need to know," I said dismissively. I turned back ahead of myself and began to search for a comfortable place to lay down. If she wasn't going to do anymore massaging, then I saw no reason to sit here any longer.

"Hiei." The use of my name gave me pause. I looked back over to her to notice she had a curious, albeit determined, look on her face. I didn't speak, but I didn't have to, because she continued not too long after. "What are you?"

The direct question took me slightly by surprise. I hadn't expected her to so readily question what I was.

I vaguely toyed around with my options on how to respond to her. I could just ignore her. It would probably be the easiest option. I wouldn't have to deal with anyone chastising me for introducing a 'normal' human to apparitions.

I could be cryptic and vague, but I immediately disliked the idea. That was the fox's job.

Or I could just tell her what she wanted to know. Because, as I thought on it, she probably would pester me to no end if I ignored her. Hell if I'd deal with the poking again.

"Hiei?" I heard her ask hesitantly when I had yet to respond. So I made up my mind.

"I'm a demon," I said easily. It's not my fault she's curious. She didn't have to help me and risk exposure into a world she was ignorant to. But she did. So she'll have to deal with the consequences of her curiosity. If the ferry girl or Koenma had something to say about it, then I wouldn't hesitate to tell them exactly what I think of them and their secrecy. Nothing a good threat or insult wouldn't solve.

"A... demon? What's the difference?" Her voice was so innocent and curious as she asked.

That was the second question that caught me off guard. I had expected something more along the lines of ridicule, or disbelief. But, she just wanted... to know the difference? I stared at her with an expression that mirrored her own.

I had to take a moment to remind myself that she was blind. Of course she wouldn't be bothered by the idea of demons nearly as much as others. It's not like she had ever actually seen a human. And my body was not much unlike that of what she already knew as human.

"Besides, of course, the teeth, the jumping, and that you're impervious to the cold," she added.

I gathered my wits back quickly, and scoffed. "There's a big difference," I started, glaring at her. "Humans are weak, spineless, pathetic, greedy creatures. I am nothing like them." The words came easily to me.

She at first looked surprised by my response. Perhaps because of the venom that dripped off every syllable of my statement. But that expression was quick to turn sour, and before long her brow had furrowed, and a frown had taken over her lips. "I'm not weak, spineless, pathetic, or greedy," she muttered.

I smirked at that, and let out a snide humph. "You're blind. Of course you're weak." It came out of my mouth like water would a drainage pipe, undeterred and without a filter.

That somewhat put-off look of hers was quick to school itself into a quiet rage. For someone who made quite a few expressions, her eyes were awfully expressionless. They were as devoid of emotion and as merciless as Kurama's.

"Well then. At the very least, I can take solace in knowing humans aren't as foolish and stupid as demons."

That certainly got my attention like nothing she said before had. The words irked me, and I did little to hide it.

"What?" I spat with a deadly hiss, glowering at her through dilated eyes.

"If it weren't for the weak, spineless, pathetic, greedy creature before you now, you would already be dead from whatever it was you were stupid enough to get yourself into before." She spoke with a subdued ferocity. Had I not been so caught up in it being directed at me, I might have been impressed.

I let out a feral growl, and grabbed her by the front of her shirt to pull her to me. She gasped lightly at the contact, but her expression didn't waver. It irked me just as much as her words.

"For someone who claims to not be so stupid, you certainly are playing a dangerous game," I growled out.

She didn't respond to my chiding remark, nor did she attempt to struggle out of my grasp. It was infuriating. She was infuriating. Where was the fear? She carried her emotionless mask for as long as I held her. Eventually, I released her with a shove. I would gain nothing from hurting her.

"You're a fool not to be afraid."

I watched her lift her hands slowly to fiddle with the now ruffled collar of her shirt. "Why should I be?" she asked quietly.

I scoffed. "I am more powerful than you can possibly imagine, fool. You're lucky I find killing humans to be a waste of time." The last part wasn't exactly true, but I wanted to scare her.

I didn't wait for her response as I turned away, and stood up carefully from the ground. I began to walk at a steady pace.

There was no reason for me to stay here any longer. I didn't need to subject myself to this forest or her. The rest of my injuries could heal in a matter of days, and without the assistance of annoying, blind women with too much to say.

"I can't imagine you're all that strong. You certainly got it handed to you by the thing that brought you to these woods."

Her scathing words carried over the chill wind to stop me cold in my tracks. It rode the current and rolled over my body with a chilled sting.

But the cold was no match for me, as my hands clenched into fists that burned. They steamed in the face of the cold.

I spun around, but did not move forward. I hunched my shoulders, and sent her a glare that would have set her alight if I had wished it so.

I felt the rage bubbling up, but I wouldn't give in to her provocation so easily.

"You know nothing of what you speak, woman. Your sightless eyes blind you to more than what's visible. Any normal human would be wise to be scared of saying something like that to me." My words came out as harsh and uncaring as the sudden gust of cold wind that blew through the trees to rattle their leaves. I had no intention of hurting her before, but if she wanted to play with fire, then I had no problem supplying the burn.

"Maybe it's good that I can't, so I can 'see' you for what you really are. A hypocrite." Was her quick reply.

A burst of steam came swirling out from my flared nostrils. But as soon as the pang of anger hit me, it faded—replaced by a smug sense of satisfaction. My down-turned lips curled upwards into a humorless, wicked smile.

I had an idea.

I stalked back towards her. I saw the action made her tense slightly, and it pleased me. When I stood in front of her, she made no move to stand up, or get away. Though this time I wasn't even slightly impressed by her foolish display of bravery.

I placed my hand harshly against her forehead, covering her eyes. She gasped, and reached for my hand.

"Calm down, fool. I won't hurt you. You aren't worth it." The last part might have been unnecessary, but her goading had earned her no small favors from me. "I will instill in you the fear you should feel. Let me show you just how terrifying I really am." Because I could. I had no deficiencies that plagued every single mundane, weak human. I could show her what her failed eyes never could. What no one ever could. The power of the Jagan afforded me far more than something as simple as mere sight. It far exceeded the fragile and limited nature of the eyes.

I could show her just how powerful I really am with a mere thought. With my own force of will.

My smile turned maniacal.

And with that, I forced an image of my full demon form into her mind. I heard her gasp, and felt her grip on my arm tighten from the strain of the force of having something pushed into her mind without her consent.

The effect had been immediate. I felt her eyelashes scrape against my hand as her eyes opened wide. Her breathing hitched, and I saw her shoulders begin to tremble.

I smirked. Good. She should be scared.

My satisfaction of finally making her feel the fear she should have felt before didn't last for long, however. And my smirk fell when she did something I did not expect.

She started to cry.

As soon as it began, it streamed down her face in waves as rushing, and turbulent, and endless as the waterfalls of Makai.

It startled me, and I attempted to move my hand away from her, but the hands she had raised to grab my own held on fast. Her grip was sturdy, even for a human. I noticed she held onto my arm so tightly her knuckles had faded to an even whiter color.

I shook my hand, perturbed and perplexed by the reaction I had received, but her grip didn't slack.

"Let go," I voiced. She did not heed my demand.

I attempted to pull my arm away, but when she held on even tighter, it made me pause.

"Woman? What the hell is wrong with you?" I exclaimed, but she didn't seem to hear me. Her expression stayed the same.

I became curious despite my original intention to scare her. I even forgot about my initial anger.

I leaned forward, and with a gentleness I didn't think myself capable of, I asked, "Woman?" Though, to anyone who didn't know me more personally, it probably sounded as gentle as glass on chalkboard.

Though even with my attempt at gentleness, it still didn't seem to get her attention. She stayed seated in the same way as when I had forced the image of myself into her mind—inhumanly still.

My eyebrows furrowed in disdain and confusion. I would have thought her blindness would have made her shocked and horrified at seeing something as terrifying as my full demon form. To have something forced into her mind without any control of it. But this didn't seem like fear. Otherwise, she wouldn't be clinging so desperately to me.

If not fear, then what was this?

As I stared down at her, at her wide eyes and partly opened mouth, she definitely did look shocked. But this was the first time she had seen anything. Of course she would be.

I thought on that a moment—my previous thought looping in my mind—and then it clicked.

...Oh.

...Perhaps this wasn't any negative emotion at all.

And as I began to realize it, her lips finally started to move.

"You're beautiful."

This time, I recoiled my hand quickly, as if bitten. She looked stricken by the loss, as her hands followed mine to find it, but I moved out of her reach. Her hands slowly lowered to her lap. Her expression didn't falter from its wide-eyed, tearful stare all the while.

But I had paid no mind to that. Only to the two words that stamped themselves across my mind, as if written on stark white paper with bold, black ink. Permanent and unyielding.

I stared at her with an alien feeling gnawing at my chest—caught somewhere between confused, disgusted, fascinated, and horribly intrigued.

It wasn't just the words themselves that struck me. Her tone: it had been raspy, desperate... broken, but filled with such a yearning that I felt the painful ache they had left in the wake of their passing. A near palpable sensation.

But above all else, they were unmistakably honest, and unnervingly sincere—only stunted by the limitations one could express through mere words alone.

If I said I wasn't surprised, I'd be lying to myself. I had never heard such an emotionally charged statement, least of all directed at me.

And she just kept crying. I was at a loss as to how to communicate with her through her curtain of tears and doe-eyed, blank face.

"Woman," I spoke sternly, but it didn't seem to reach her.

She looked lost to the waking world, only aware of the image that had seared itself into her mind. And as I checked, I knew it to be true.

The image of myself filled every corner.

I reached out a hand to grab her by the shoulder and shook her. "Hey." It didn't work. She sat there motionless, save for the trembling of her body under the weight of the emotion that seemed to shake her to her core.

I growled in frustration. This had apparently been a terrible mistake. One in which I didn't know how to correct. ...I suppose I could just leave like I had originally planned.

But as I thought on that, I realized I'd rather not be haunted by the image of her void expression and silent tears on top of the words that I already knew I would have trouble forgetting.

You're beautiful.

I felt an annoying pulse in my temple.

Though if I was going to do something, what should I do? I didn't know how to snap her out of this odd... catatonic state. Hell if I was going to try to comfort her. Maybe she needed a distraction.

I looked around, and caught sight of the bucket she seemed so fond of. I left her to retrieve it, then returned and dropped it on her lap. The only sign she gave that she had noticed was a small, startled jump when it hit the top of her thighs.

"There. Go... fill it with water or whatever else you do," I muttered.

She rewarded me for my efforts with silence and tears.

I let out an exasperated sigh. What else could I do?

Then an idea struck me.

I could, perhaps, erase her memory.

It seemed the only viable option. At least if I did, we could just go on as we were.

So I reached out a hand, and placed it against her forehead, though with far less force than before. With the power from the Jagan, I easily found the image that permeated every part of her mind. I gave it a mental tug. There was an immense amount of resistance. Her mind seemed very much opposed to letting it go, whether she herself was conscious of that or not. But her internal struggling was no match for me.

Before I completely pulled it free of her, I looked down to her face.

What I saw startled me. Almost as much as when she had first started up her incessant crying.

She had started to smile.

It was small, but the change caused me to pause in the action of removing the memory from her. I furrowed my brow in confusion.

"What-" I started, but was interrupted by her quiet voice.

"Thank you."

If I was anything other than a demon, I probably wouldn't have heard it.

It was just as honestly sincere as before, and as I continued to stare at her, I couldn't bring myself to remove the memory. I'm not sure if it was because of any amount of sympathy, or I just simply couldn't think of a good enough reason to deny her this seemingly small thing.

So I removed my hand, and let it fall by my side.

She didn't move, nor did she say anything else.

Eventually, I scowled disdainfully and turned away from her. I walked over to one of the thick trees and sat myself at the base of its trunk, crossed my arms, and closed my eyes.

I guess I wouldn't be getting anymore massages today.

AN:

I'm so sorry for the delay of this chapter guys! This was supposed to be out Friday, but I got a bit carried away with editing. Ahem!

For those of you who read the last chapter sooner to the date that I had updated this story last, chapter three has undergone a few edits. If you'd like to read a good chunk of extra content, I implore you to check it out!

For everyone else, if you get just plain tired of my shenanigans and the week or so long wait in-between updates, you can always check back with the previous chapters every now and then. I usually add some new stuff. :'D

Thanks again guys for the support! I really like this story so far. I'm glad you guys do too!