Please read Disclaimer in Prelude.
Title: Firebird Sweet, C3: Let The Games Begin!
Author: JaganshiKenshin
Genre: Action/Adventure, Humor, and Beyond
Rating: T
Summary: A little Pachinko and a little mayhem go a long way.
A/N: Thanks, everyone who's been reading thus far. This is quite a loong story, the sequel to Idiot Beloved, which is also posted toa LJ community as well as here. And there are many sidefics to come. If you enjoy action/adventure with a bit of humor thrown in, why not give it a try? I appreciate all your comments! Oh, and Carl? If you're still reading? Got a little something in here for you. ;)
Firebird Sweet C3: "Let The Games Begin!"
by
Kenshin
The game of Pachinko dates back to the 1920s, though its origins
are much older, and it may have come to Japan from either America
or Korea. A bit like a vertical pinball game, Pachinko is played
with ball bearings that the gamer must catch to win. Payouts,
however, are not in cash---gambling is forbidden in Japan---but
in tokens or trinkets, which can then be exchanged for cash at
another location, a somewhat complicated but widely accepted
arrangement.
There are such games in Makai. In one of its larger cities, the
chief manufacturer of a similar game called Hitokumi had once
briefly employed a demon known as Youko Kurama.
Who now, as Minamino Shuuichi in the Power Win Win Pachinko
parlor, was steeped in semi-fond memories.
The aisles made narrow by banks of machines, merry with the ping
of bells and blue with smoke, brought a tiny smile to his lips.
The fortune of his friend Yuusuke---well. That was another
matter altogether.
The dominant color here in the parlor was red, for luck, but in
Kurama's experience, luck always went not to the player but to
the house.
Today was no exception. Yuusuke was losing, big-time.
Kurama was watching the Pachinko balls answer to gravity's
commands and Yuusuke failing to catch them when he sensed a
presence whose origins were a lot further away than Korea.
He looked up, and caught the lavender eyes of Koenma's favorite
ferry girl as Botan pressed through hordes of gamers to reach
their side.
"Yuusuke! There you are." Planting her hands on her hips,
Botan surveyed the boys. "Kuwa-chan! Kurama! You're too young
to be here, and frankly, Kurama, I'm surprised at you in
particular!"
Draping an arm over Yuusuke's shoulder, Kuwabara guffawed. "Hey,
I'm just watchin' Urameshi to see he don't get into trouble."
"And I'm just watching Kuwabara-kun watch Yuusuke," added Kurama.
"I'm only in it for the money," grumbled Yuusuke, frantically
working the flippers, to no particular avail.
Kurama's practiced eye lit upon a new pendant dangling from a
thin golden chain around Botan's neck. It was a peony, worked in
cloisonne enamel, delicately colored, and quite expensive-
looking. "That's a lovely piece, Botan-san. Where's it from?"
"Oh!" The girl lifted the enameled peony. "Shay-san brought it
back from America. Wasn't that sweet of her? And what did she
get you, Kura-kun?"
"A complete set of Brother Thomas McNeil's
demonologies---signed."
"I got a signed Megallica poster!" Kuwabara beamed with pride.
"Buncha Chuck Norris videos," muttered Yuusuke, his concentration
on the game. "What's the scoop on those oni we caught, Botan?"
"Oh! Right. Oni. Well, we learned from the four of them that
there had been, and I quote: 'A hole blown in the barrier the
size of a battleship, made by an explosion of incredible fire-
power' some time ago."
Fire-power? Kurama narrowed his eyes in thought. "I assume the
breach has been sealed?"
"Yes indeedy! Enma Daioh's barrier-weavers shut it right down.
Those oni we got at the Crazy Dog Diner were a decent enough lot,
you know. They were just stuck here in the human world, trying
to get by. Reminded me a little bit of Jorge."
"But other demons coulda come through," said Kuwabara.
"Worse demons," agreed Yuusuke.
Botan winked at him. "True, but that's why we pay you the big
bucks!"
"Hey!" Another opportunity to score a catch dribbled by Yuusuke.
"No one pays us, you nitwit!"
"No need to get hostile," Botan reminded him. "And anyway you
know what I meant."
"Has the Shrimpboat heard the news?" said Kuwabara.
"Of course, silly." Botan gave Kuwabara an affectionate pat. "I
caught up with him earlier today."
"And where was he?" Kurama wanted to know.
"In the park, reading a book---in English---about baby and child
care."
Kurama raised an eyebrow. "And what did he say when you gave him
the report?"
"He thanked me and wished me a pleasant day."
"Now that's scary," said Kuwabara.
Kurama gazed at the cascade of Pachinko balls that Yuusuke was
struggling to catch. A dazzle of motion, so many different
elements that it was impossible to detect a pattern. But there
were patterns to be found elsewhere, and one had recently been
broken. "Who is Hiei?" he mused.
Everyone stared at him. Yuusuke let the last ball drop.
"Oo! I know!" Yuusuke raised his hand as though he were in
school. "Major-league pain in the butt who always comes through
for us?"
It was Kuwabara's turn to raise a hand. "Runt with an attitude
twice his size?"
"Make that four times," advised Botan.
"Hey, fox-boy." Yuusuke gave the unyielding machine a half-
hearted kick. "Is this you, going all philosophical on us?"
"Snooty private schools," grumbled Kuwabara.
"I've known Hiei a bit longer than you have," Kurama admited.
"He's quite self-contained. What is he thinking at any given
minute? Scenes of mayhem? Longing? Carrier hum?"
There was a brief silence. Then Yuusuke broke it with a loud
laugh. "You've never been a normal teenager, have you?"
"Well..." Kurama smiled, somewhat embarrassed. "As a matter of
fact, no. But neither has Hiei. Perhaps that's why he and I hit
it off when---"
"Look," sighed Yuuske, with an eye-roll Kurama's way, "you're not
getting on his case again?"
"Or worse---" threatened Kuwabara. "On Shay-san's?"
Kurama shook his head. "I assure you I am not. I only
wonder---"
"Because he smiles now?" groused Yuusuke. "You gonna be tailing
him and grumbling how that's not normal and looking for a way to
micro-manage him?"
"Those days are finished," said Kurama. "But apparently, so is
the Hiei we had all gotten used to."
"Well, if you ask me," chirped Botan, "It's a big improvement."
"Maybe so." Kurama licked his lips. In his experience, you
could dodge the past, but it would find a way to come back and
bite you. Youko had many enemies; so, no doubt, did Hiei. "I 'm
only wondering whether---"
Breaking off, Kurama gasped---at the unexpected shock of an evil
aura, exploding into the smoky, noisy space.
They turned to one another; no words were needed. Yuusuke
hammered down the aisle and shot out the door in hot pursuit;
Botan followed. Kuwabara narrowed his eyes, scanning the parlor
for the invader. Kurama extended his senses, roaming the crowded
aisles, searching for the aura again.
But there was no trace of it now.
Kurama finished his perimeter sweep and rejoined Kuwabara.
Yuusuke returned, breathing hard.
"Can't track it." The dark-haired youth shook his head.
"Whatever it was got clean away from us."
Botan arrived moments later, her eyes like saucers. "What was
that awful thing?" she wondered.
"Dunno," said Kuwabara. "It felt bad, though. Like a needle in
the ear."
Beware of the past, thought Kurama, and for no reason he could
name, he felt afraid.
For Hiei.
0-0-0-0-0
He was dreaming when the phone rang.
They were sitting on a cloud, he and his firebird, and he caught
the merest glimpse of the dark-haired stranger sailing on another
cloud.
"I have to catch him," Hiei said.
"Don't you understand?" Shay-san replied. She was knitting two
pair of baby booties. "He's already passed you by."
"But I have to talk to him," said Hiei, jumping off the cloud to
follow the stranger.
A chorus of bells stopped him.
When they had returned from America, Father Brian, resident of
the Immaculate Heart church and privy to Hiei's secrets, had
given Hiei a small communications device closely resembling a
mobile phone. "Think of it as the Bat-Phone, son," the priest
had said.
"The what?" Hiei replied.
And now that phone was ringing. And it was late.
Hiei was not happy.
Still in bed, Hiei fumbled for the annoying device with intent to
kill. Shay-san groaned in protest, pulling the pillow over her
head. "Five minutes," she pleaded.
"Take all night," Hiei told her, and, stranglehold on phone,
flicked into the darkened hall to answer it.
"WHAT?" he snarled.
"Well, well!" The familiar, lilting voice spoke English, and was
far too cheerful for the earliness---or lateness---of the hour.
Hiei could envision the priest on the other end: his pit-bull
features and work-scarred hands, his ferocious grin employed in
relentless pursuit of Hiei. "I see someone's taught my favorite
little pissant how to answer the phone."
"I can go to the bathroom all by myself now, too."
"You let a demon run loose a couple days back, so I'm told."
"Half-demon," Hiei corrected.
"We keep tabs on that one. He's a good guy."
"Wonderful. You wake me up to tell me I did something you don't
care about and which makes no difference to the world."
"No, you dumb little shit. I woke you up to send you out on a
job."
"Sorry. You must have the wrong number."
"No, I'm the one who's sorry. Sorry you've forgotten how you
signed onto this program. Sorry you've forgotten your poor long-
suffering priest who doused you with Holy Water an' anointed you
with oil. Sorry you've forgotten the part when you said to me:
Okay, Father, this time, with eyes open, I become Rome's sword."
Hiei slid down the wall, settling onto the floor. Kuwabara,
judging from the rumbling snores emanating from his room, was
asleep. Shizuru was elsewhere; that one had a tendency to stay
out late.
"Hey, Kiddo," prompted Father Brian. "Did you get old and die on
me? Are there mushrooms in your ears? Did you go back to the
demon plane?"
"I'm listening, Father."
"There's demon ki detected in the park. Koenma wants---"
"Wait. If 'Koenma wants,' where's Yuusuke? Why call on me?
Isn't that the reason I enlisted in your program---to get away
from Koenma?"
"That's only half the reason and you know it. Your little
colleen---"
"Little colleen nothing. Clearly you are trying to make her a
widow."
"I volunteered you because I'm coordinating the round-up with
Koenma. That was some hole blown in the barrier, kiddo. We'll
need all the help we can get wrangling the strays."
Hiei got to his feet, slowly.
If it was all the same, he had really rather not. The hour was
late and it was difficult to conjure amusement from these
circumstances. He was tired from too many dreams, and someone
else could handle a random spark of demon energy for once.
But it was not all the same. Nothing was any more. He was not
the same kid he had been even a month ago. He had indeed pledged
to protect the human world, and now that marker was being called
in.
"All right, Father. Do I have time to leave a note for 'the
little colleen?' I don't want to wake her."
"That's considerate of you, kiddo. And may the luck of the Irish
be with you."
"I would rather have the skill of the demon."
"Suit yourself, you arrogant little pissant."
Hiei was about to sever the connection when he heard the priest
say, "Wait."
Hiei waited.
"Son." This time, the priest's voice came through soft and
gentle. "I know you're not in fighting trim just now. But
Urameshi's not available, and you're all we've got."
"I know, Father."
"You could always roust the big fella, that Kuwabara, out of his
slumber should you need a hand."
"I think I'd rather be eviscerated by scores of rampaging demons.
I'll do this alone, Father, thanks all the same."
Laughing, the priest hung up.
0-0-0-0-0
An hour later, sword at his back and mantled, Hiei stood on a
rooftop overlooking the park and the streets surrounding it.
Youyogi Koen. Large, graceful oasis frequented by natives and
tourists alike. Containing lawns, ponds, forest--everything, in
short, a roving demon could desire, including humans for food, a
practice which, even when he lived in Makai, had turned Hiei's
undeniably-strong stomach.
Kurama would know more about its flora and somewhat of its fauna.
All Hiei cared about was that it provided decent shelter and a
place to sleep.
The power of his Jagan gently shunted people away. He planted in
passersby the idea that they didn't really want to go to the park
now, did they, effectively creating a perimeter around the
unknown source of demon energy.
This particular aura seemed to percolate with an odd, irregular
flicker, like a guttering candle---as though the demon emitting
it was weak, possibly wounded.
Wounded creatures were twice as dangerous.
Darting from rooftop to telephone pole, Hiei made his way to the
park and approached the spot where the demonic aura trembled and
wavered. He touched down in the uppermost branches of the
tallest tree. From there, he had the advantage of both height
and surprise.
Just don't take too long to study the situation, he admonished
himself. You're you, not Kurama.
The trees at night took on fantastical shapes, vague and
threatening as giants hunkered down over a bleak meal of human
bones.
His night vision was excellent, and once he located the demon's
aura, he also spotted the rucked bark of a venerable oak some 100
feet north-northwest of his own.
The demon was crouched low on its gnarled roots. In an instant,
Hiei launched himself toward it, sword in hand, ready for
anything.
The other demon caught sight of him, crying out in a shrill
voice: "Don't hurt me!"
Landing, Hiei did not attack. Instead, he studied.
The other demon was as tiny as its voice---no larger than a human
child, with a round head from which one conical horn sprouted,
half-hidden by ill-kempt greenish hair that also failed to
conceal the large, back-pointed ears. What clothes it wore were
filthy rags, and it was shivering, whether in terror or cold Hiei
could not tell, but judging from the look in its enormous violet
eyes, an equal mixture of both. "Please, mister." It shrank
from him, trying to incorporate itself into the roots of the
tree, failing.
Crap, Hiei thought, He's just a kid.
Okay. Here's your chance to practice your parental skills. The
book said---never mind what the book said.
Sheathing his sword, Hiei approached the little demon.
"That thing around your neck---" The demon kid's teeth clattered
like castanets, biting off the rest of the sentence.
"You mean the Rosary." The large wooden Rosary was the first
thing Shay-san had ever given Hiei; it had come to her through
her uncle, the Franciscan demonologist Thomas McNeil.
The kid nodded, mute, its eyes fixed on the Rosary.
In North America and Japan, the Rosary isn't ordinarily worn
round the neck, but in purse or pocket, or in the case of
seminarians, tucked into the belt. That Hiei wore it at all was
an unusual thing, but Hiei was unusual among demons. Unlike most
others, he was unaffected by the Rosary, and able to employ it as
a weapon, along with the equally potent Holy Water, which he'd
left at home.
Still, this little guy seems harmless enough. Maybe fear made
his aura spike, Hiei mused, taking hold of the Rosary and tucking
it inside his mantle.
"All gone," Hiei said. The little demon tracked the movement of
Hiei's hands. Then Hiei knelt, so his greater height would not
further terrorize the kid. They were within touching distance
now, and he saw tear-tracks on the other demon's grubby cheeks.
"Lost, aren't you."
The little fellow nodded up at him, eyes still wary. Hiei's face
remained set like stone. At one time, he would have yearned for
a single friendly word. "Look, kid, let's just get you back
where you belong and call it a day."
"O-okay." The kid managed to still his chattering teeth.
Rising, Hiei extended a hand to the lost boy. I'm getting the
hang of this, he thought. Maybe there is some kernel of parental
instinct buried in me after all. I'll call Botan and she'll take
him to Koenma. Kid's done nothing wrong---probably just got
caught on the wrong side of the barrier.
But the kid darted a furtive tongue over his quivering lip.
Clearly, he trusted no one.
"Your people must be worried," Hiei prompted.
"Don't got no people," muttered the kid.
Hiei stopped breathing for a split-second.
Well. Three kids won't be much more trouble than two, right?
How could I put this to my firebird? 'He followed me home---can
we keep him?'
Unlike Hiei, the boy would have trouble passing as human. There
was the matter of his extravagant ears. And the small matter of
that horn. But a hat would cover those peculiarities.
Or in a pinch, a long white scarf.
"Bet you could use something to eat," Hiei said, slowly unwinding
his scarf so as not to alarm the kid.
The boy nodded, his throat working. And a bath, thought Hiei,
judging from his condition. "Here, kid. Let me just get this
over your---"
Faster than an eyeblink came a pop, as of a light bulb going bad.
And the boy's tiny, timid spirit energy, the guttering-candle ki,
suddenly blazed fierce and blue. The expanding aura blew Hiei's
scarf from his hand and tore off his mantle.
Both garments fluttered away.
The demon boy said, "Stupid bastard."
His voice booming now, eyes changing, flashing from violet to
fluorescent green, his form expanding to fit the bellowing ki,
tall as Hiei, then taller, like a dry sponge dropped in water
expanding to twenty times its size, until Hiei faced a tower of
horn and armored skin and razor fangs.
The monster's pebbled hide had a dull purple cast and looked hard
as stone. An orange crest ran down its spine.
Hiei's sword raised now. The demon flicked a claw, casually
backhanded him across the face. Pain exploded in his jaw. Hiei
flew back, slammed crosswise against a tree trunk, taking the
impact full on his spine, white-hot pain zinging into his head
and his toes.
Then crashing to the ground, tumbling, rising, sword ready,
spitting blood.
The enemy's ki burned like a bonfire. He had been trying with
only partial success to mask it. Hiei made a lightning
reassessment.
An upper-B class youkai. Formidable. High intelligence, great
strength. The form in general human, but some twelve feet in
height, the girth astounding, the horned head with its dog's maw
grinning now, and slavering.
"Oh, good," Hiei said. "Now I won't feel so bad about killing
you."
"Neither will I, pipsqueak." The demon's clawed hands spread
out. "Gotta thank you for giving me a good laugh, though." The
timbre of the booming voice changed, high with mockery: "Ooo,
little boy, I bet your Mommy MISSES you!"
Annoying bastard, Hiei thought. "She'll miss you even more once
I get done with you." Without another word he launched himself
at the enemy.
The youkai put up a forearm the size of Kuwabara, using it as a
shield. Sword met hide. Sword shattered.
Dodging the monster's return stroke, Hiei rolled, came up with
sword-hilt in hand. He didn't like using that particular
technique. Still. He charged the demon, calling on his Darkness
Flame Sword: "Jaou Ensatsu Ken!"
Nothing happened.
The monster, fast for his size, leapt forward, slashed Hiei what
would have been a killing blow save for Hiei's quickness. The
claws just missed eviscerating him, but opened up a long bloody
slash across his right shoulder.
"Dragon arm," Hiei panted, scrambling to his feet to face the
creature. "You'll pay for that."
Father Brian's words came back to him: It's likely you can no
longer summon the flames of Makai.
If true, then most of his attacks were gone. Vaporized.
Finished.
"You were saying?" jeered the monster.
What did he have left? Speed and smarts, yes. Holy Water, no.
Don't leave home without it.
Yanking his headband away, Hiei exposed the Jagan. As his third
eye activated, he felt that peculiar tickling sensation, then the
warmth emanating from his forehead as it fired up its psi-beam.
The monster stopped, put a clawed hand to his belly. With his
other hand he pointed to Hiei, chuckling, the sound like a buzz-
saw ripping through wood. "Oh, that's rich! I'm supposed to act
like your zombie slave now and do your bidding? Yes, Master," it
simpered. "Your word is my command!"
Ch! "Fist of the Mortal Flame!" Hurling himself forward, Hiei
leapt up to rain a series of fiery blows upon the monster's vast
midsection. The attack seemed to have no more effect on the
enemy than a kitten batting at a lion.
"Okay, pipsqueak." The monster shot out a hand the size of
Hiei's head. "Time's up."
Kurama's admonishing voice in his mind: Never close with superior
weight and strength.
Too late. The demon had him.
One hand round his shoulder, the other circling his waist. A
lambent flash in the sickly greenish eyes, the look of "Gotcha!"
as the demon pulled Hiei in. The trunk-thick arms tightened,
threatening the integrity of Hiei's ribcage and sending electric
shocks of pain along his already-injured spine.
Wrenching free, Hiei tumbled away and landed badly, hurting his
left knee. The enemy followed. Hiei dodged, but his leg gave
out. He was down.
In a wink the monster was on him again, reaching for his throat.
"Rei-gun!"
Urameshi Yuusuke's buoyant snarl split the night air. Hiei
caught a glimpse of the boy from the tail of his eye before the
white flash of his spirit energy struck the monster.
The youkai was blown into pieces before it could even cry out.
On hands and knees, Hiei sucked oxygen as his rescuer approached.
Urameshi's footfalls were muffled by the dewy grass. "Hey,
Hiei," he said, with no more fervor than if it were broad
daylight and they'd just passed one another on the way to some
sushi bar. "Busted another sword, I see."
"Ch. Cheap junk." Still breathing hard, Hiei levered himself to
his feet. "Swordmaking's a lost art."
"Yeah?" Urameshi was at his side now. The boy wore a rather
dilapidated green jacket, its frayed collar turned up against the
night air. "You got fire. Can't you re-forge it?"
"Lack the skills." Still a bit shaky, Hiei tottered forward to
the foot of the tree and picked up the pieces of the broken
sword, eased the business end first into the intact saya, then
the hilt.
Suddenly, the tree trunk looked awfully inviting.
Hiei sank to the ground. "Got a spare back home anyway." He
sighed, trying to settle against the tree in a way that did not
hurt. Couldn't be done.
While he was not as depleted as when he summoned the Dragon, the
effort of trying to call on the Black Flame Sword was tiring in
itself, and he'd taken real damage to his back.
He hugged both knees to his chest, groaning, "I need a better
arsenal."
Urameshi joined him, sitting on a tree root with considerably
more ease. Hiei regarded the boy whose pure heart had, with the
precious coin of trust, helped to change his.
Urameshi scowled. "Well, what about Sword of the Archangel?"
"Funny thing about that. No demon can stand against it, but it's
a last-ditch attack because of what it does to me."
Taking out a pack of cigarettes and shaking one loose, Urameshi
whistled. "Even laster than the Dragon?"
Hiei nodded. "Which won't obey me any more."
"Holy crap." Urameshi struck a match, touched it to the tip of
the cigarette, then inhaled with evident satisfaction. "That's
bad, isn't it?"
Grunting assent, Hiei said, "Just once, I'd like an attack that
doesn't blind me or knock me flat out. I'm half-Kourime. I
should be able to use ice. Why can't I use ice?"
"So. Dragon doesn't work?" Urameshi had a one-track mind. "Same
hold true for your Jagan?"
"No. Want me to try it out on you again?"
Urameshi let out a stream of smoke. "Why not just ram a spike
through my head."
"H'n." Hiei fumbled the phone from his pocket. Good. Still
intact. Punching in a button, he waited for the connection.
"What's that?" Urameshi's eyes were bright with curiosity. Hiei
didn't respond. When Shay-san picked up on the other end,
sounding oddly alert, he told her he was finished and would
return shortly.
Urameshi put both hands to his head, shoulders shaking with
laughter. "Maaaan," he spluttered. "Are you ever WHIPPED."
"Yuusuke, I go out, she doesn't know if I'm coming back alive.
Does any of this register on you?"
"Want a smoke?"
"Gimme." The boy handed over the cigarette, and as he
instructed, Hiei stuck it between his lips and pulled the smoke
deep into his lungs, then exhaled through his nose.
He managed to avoid the first-timer rodeo of hacking and
wheezing, but gave the cigarette back to Urameshi. "I don't
believe I care for these."
The wind rustled softly through the trees.
"So you're really gonna have a kid," said Urameshi.
"Nope."
The boy turned a puzzled gaze onto him.
"She is," Hiei elaborated.
Urameshi took another drag. "I stand corrected."
"And two of 'em."
"Somehow I just can't picture you as a Dad."
"Neither can I. Still, it's a fact of life."
"Wonder how much bus-boying pays."
"Not enough."
"What about Rome?"
"Even less." Hiei's left incisor was loose from the backhanding
he'd taken; the copper tang of blood remained in his mouth.
Turning away from his friend, he spat, then probed with his
tongue, winced, and decided to let well enough alone. The tooth
would tighten up in a few hours anyway. His back was another
story. It hurt even to breathe.
Urameshi sighed. "Well, I lost all my cash playin' Pachinko, so
I guess that leaves Shay-san's family." To Hiei's surprise,
Urameshi got up, laid a hold of his wrist, and hauled him to his
feet before he could get out so much as a yip of pain.
"Mantle's around here somewhere." Hiei peered into the nearby
stand of trees. "Ah." There it was, tangled in a high branch.
He retrieved it, found his scarf draped on a yew bush, then
gingerly slid into both garments.
"Here." Urameshi handed Hiei his Jagan ward, and Hiei fixed it
back in place.
Then they were walking away from the battle, toward the street.
The lit rectangles of windows were like watchful eyes looking
down on them. "Can't take the family's money, though," Hiei
continued.
"Why not?" Urameshi's glance was filled with surprise. "They
have plenty of it."
Hiei shook his head. "Just can't."
"Can't let your kid starve either."
"Kids. Two of them."
"Even worse. Two little pairs of red eyes starin' up at Daddy:
'Daddy, we're hungry! Feed us, Daddy!' And you can't, cause
you're stubborn. Why don't you just steal something?"
Hiei knew Urameshi was testing him; the boy was no thief himself.
"Gave that up for Lent."
"Y'know, I think I liked you better before. When you were tryin'
to kill me."
"No, you didn't."
"I didn't?" Urameshi's mouth twitched in mirth.
"Not considering what I did to Keiko."
"Which was?"
Had Urameshi truly forgotten? Hiei slanted a look at him.
"Capture? Kouma no Ken? Wound? Warehouse?"
"Ahhh." The boy waved a dismissive hand. "That. No permanent
damage, and she doesn't remember a thing."
"Ch." It was just like Urameshi to be impulsive, both in action
and forgiveness. But in Hiei's experience, women were different.
They had long memories, and held grudges; even now his firebird
shot him the occasional simmering glance because he had let the
others know about her 'condition' before she was quite ready to
reveal it.
They were nearing the street, but Hiei had one more question.
"Father Brian said you were out of reach. What---"
"Hadda clean up after Mom." Urameshi flung the butt of his
cigarette onto the pavement and let it die.
Hiei did not probe, nor did he return Urameshi's earlier favor
with an equally smart-ass comment about being whipped. Family
could be a sore spot. All he said was, "I suppose I owe you one
for bailing me out."
The other boy shoved his hands deep in his pockets. "Skip it.
Think you can walk home from here all by yourself?"
"I think so." Hiei gave a snort. "If I get scared I can always
find a policeman."
"Ja!" Not looking at Hiei, Urameshi darted forward and ran down
the street with a little backward wave.
Hiei watched him go. When he was certain Urameshi was out of
earshot, he breathed, "Thanks," then turned for home himself.
-30-
(To be continued: Time for some arrogance!)