Title: Idiot Beloved, C. 7, Journey To The West Author: JaganshiKenshin
Genre: Action/Adventure and more
Rating: M---or maybe PG 13
Summary: A stolen moment of peace, and then there is nowhere to hide.

All disclaimers in Chapter One.

Idiot Beloved Ch 7: Journey To The West
by
Kenshin

White Sands, New Mexico.

Its glittering dunes are in a constant state of flux. The first
deception is the look of snow, mountainous, but not solid, rising
in one spot only to collapse in another. The ever-changing
landscape always deceives, frequently blinds, sometimes kills.

Even the desert-toughened plants and animals succumb to the harsh
white ocean of gypsum. Some of the living creatures have
bleached out to match their surroundings, desperate to adapt.

Their daily struggle to eke out a living takes place next door to
the famed White Sands missile-testing range. But in White Sands,
there are things deadlier than man-made weapons.

At the edge of this shimmering basin stands a house of lies. It
is a long cool house thrust halfway over a cliff, waiting.

Inside, a miko, tall and striking with long chestnut hair,
strolled into one of the rooms.

Furnished in the most understated modern design, the room
contained not so much as a vase out of place or a painting left
to chance. Architectural Digest would have featured it on the
cover---had any of it been visible to normal eyes.

On a low table in front of a window lay three severed heads. One
of the heads, greenish in color, sported three horns.

Another was brownish, with two horns, and the third, a smaller
gray head with a single, barely-discernible horn.

The miko strolled over and picked up the smallest of the oni
heads.

"Poor little thing," she giggled.

The head rolled its eyes at her.

She sighed. "Who did this to you? Did it hurt?"

A figure appeared in the doorway. His gray suit had been cut by
an angel, but his ancestry had evidently included a number of
garden variety toads. He blinked with mottled golden eyes; his
thick pale tongue passed over the lipless gash of a mouth.

"Better put that down. My lord will be angry."

"Angry? With me?" The miko laughed. But she carefully replaced
the head of the oni before following the not-quite-man out of the
room.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"Five minutes."

She kept murmuring the same thing. Hiei shook her again. Baka
onna. "Come on. Lot of work to do."

At least this time she opened her eyes and looked at him. "If
you wanted the stupid bells you should have just SAID." She
pulled the sheet up over her nose and mouth and turned away.

Spinning her face-up, pinning her shoulders in place with his
unwarded arm, Hiei thought better of it, and let her go.

She lay back regarding him, one arm pillowing her head, the fire-
colored hair in disarray. "I suppose you could carry one and I
could carry the other."

"No!"

She raised an eyebrow.

"No one's taking the bells now," he said, more quietly. "And you
are not picking up anything heavier than a hairbrush."

"Why?"

He hesitated.

Just now, he wanted nothing more than to shun the outside world
and stay here with her---this firebird of his---and not emerge
until winter.

But it could not be done. The very fact that the bulls had gone
after the house, then after her, proved the two of them could not
remain idle. There was nowhere to hide, and---

Besides---

"There's something you need to know." He put his mouth close to
her ear and whispered a few words.

She sat up, clutching the sheet to her like a shield, blinking
those gumdrop eyes. "Is that even possible?"

"Ch."

"But last night---this morning---"

He shifted uncomfortably against the pillows.

She made another of those odd warding signs against her head and
chest, then lay back, her eyes fixed on a point in the ceiling.

"Woman," he began.

"Show me what's under that headband. And the gauntlet."

"Can't. Too dangerous."

"Then tell me."

"On the way. Maybe." He slid out of the bed and began to dress.
It was probably best not to linger. "I'm going to speak to
Tousan. Get dressed and packed. Leave your bag for me."

She nodded absently and turned over again. "Five minutes," she
murmured.

Rolling his eyes, he secured the katana to his belt, whirled into
his mantle, and went out the door.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

In the cool light of dawn, three members of an elite team stood
beneath the sheltered eaves of a temple, gazing out into the
forest beyond. The fourth was notably absent.

The compact, dark-haired one suppressed a yawn. "And this is
where you felt the squishy thing, Kuwabara?"

The tallest one nodded. "Pretty sure. Here or somewhere
around."

"What was it like?"

"Squishy."

Yuusuke laughed.

Standing next to them, Kurama narrowed his eyes, lips parted, as
if testing the wind that stirred his extravagant hair. "You two
stay here and cover me. I'll take a closer look."

"Listen, Kurama." Kuwabara folded his meaty arms. "If you think
this thing's gonna appear on cue---"

Kurama smiled. "Let's see if it does." Ghosting from the front
of Genkai's temple to pause behind a stone lantern, Kurama
released a breath, extending his senses.

He detected nothing, no evidence of any youki, no ki in fact of
any sort save the flickerings of what belonged in a forest:
insects, birds, animals.

It wasn't a good sign. Kuwabara's spiritual sensitivity was
superior to his own, but Kurama should have been able to locate
some trace of an intruder, even if only the memory of a smell.
The only thing that jarred was a faint vibration of the earth,
almost as if a heavy truck was rumbling past just out of earshot.
The source of those vibrations was no truck. All of the fox-
spirit's careful study and all of his wild speculations had led
to only one conclusion, and it wasn't a happy one. The thought
of tangling with such a creature was---

Kurama shivered. In spite of that, he stepped out from his
shelter and sprinted, nearly soundless, across the dew-sparked
grass.

He stopped at the edge of the forest. A rank scent filled the
air, causing him to catch his breath. Something was there,
watching him. Something that had gotten past Genkai's sutras.
Impossible, but---

Even as he conjured his Rose Whip, the thing that was looking at
him shot back into the earth and vanished.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Family breakfast, thought Hiei, complete with inane chatter.
Wonderful.

Maybe his little firebird would come up soon and throw something
at him. He brightened at the thought.

The Tousan was tall like the Kaasan, but he looked a bit faded,
and wore some sort of thick lenses that rested on his nose and
hooked over his ears. Tousan and Kaasan were both cooing at him.

At least the two boys were tolerable, openly fascinated by his
sword.

Ah. Those were her footsteps. No one else heard them until---

"There you are, Shay! Congratulations!" Tousan cried. Kaasan
echoed his wishes.

Hiei flicked a glance her way. She was framed in the doorway for
a barely-perceptible moment, like a beautiful painting. Then she
took her place at the dining room table.

"Thank you," was all she said. She kept her gaze down. Hiei
tried to stare her into responding. She refused to look. What
was her game?

Tousan and Kaasan babbled on. The girl remained silent. Hiei
quickly fueled himself. Good. Not candy. Finally. Some kind
of salty meat, and those were---eggs? Big ones.

He took a moment to remind his little firebird that they would
need to hurry, and went down to the guest room, got her bag and
put it in the Jeep, pausing to test the air for signs of jaki, or
worse. None. Again, good.

Back inside, he breezed through courtesies with the family. It
would probably shock Urameshi and Kuwabara to see him do so, but
Hiei had learned the basics from observing Kurama, who had
politeness down to a fine art. And not standing out was often
useful. Youko Kurama could be cold, cruel, and abrupt; Minamino
Shuuichi slid through the ningen world without attracting undue
attention.

While the firebird fussed with some girl thing in the washroom,
Hiei stood at the front door, the Tousan at his side apologizing
about Rancher Jackson's lack of decent fencing.

Hiei only half-listened. He was about to attempt something that,
if it went right, would earn them a swift and painless death.

If it went wrong---

"Women," laughed the Tousan. "Never ready on time."

Was this an important thing to know? "H'n."

At last she emerged from the hallway, eyes still downcast, meek.
That made him nervous. From what Hiei could figure out, both
from his own observations and from listening to Yuusuke, ningen
females were high-maintainance creatures, demanding,
unpredictible, weak, but possibly rewarding in other ways.

What was this one up to? Surely she hadn't taken his demon-wife
joke seriously?

"Tousan," he said. "I'm being impolite, but--"

"Have to catch a plane?"

"Something like that." Hiei stood apart while his firebird bade
farewell to Kasaan and the kids. The irritating canine,
thankfully, was not included in the party.

And then they were in the Jeep, on the road. The weather was
fair and clear, the air bright with hundreds of scents that did
not, at the moment, include youkai.

He was a bit more used to handling the Jeep now; it was easier to
take his gaze from the road and steal glances at her.

She stretched in the passenger seat and blew a long breath. Then
she turned that mischievous smack of a glance his way, and the
relief was exquisite.

"Honestly, I love those people, but five more minutes of playing
cat and mouse with you---What did you say to them?"

"That everything was my fault."

"Wise man. Keep that in mind and you'll do well in life."

Everything was good. Everything was fine. He wanted to laugh,
to beam at her. Life could be wonderful.

"We're going back to the temple?"

He nodded, paying attention to the road now.

"So you really can drive this rustbucket just by watching me do
it. Don't worry; those horrible grinding noises are normal."

This time he did laugh.

When they reached the temple, he parked the Jeep well away from
the bell towers. "Stay here. Don't move until I come for you."

She laced both hands around her knees and settled into
watchfulness. He vaulted onto the roof and did a quick
reconnaisance.

The oni were gone. Not gone like the Chupa-something had gone,
not torn to bits and eaten by normal desert scavengers.

Gone as if they had never existed in the first place. No scent
of the blood shed in battle, neither his nor theirs.

He hit the ground and ran to fetch her, darting glances all about
as they walked toward the bell towers.

She narrowed her eyes. "What's wrong?"

Careful not to panic her, he kept his voice level. "Stay close
to me. I'm going to slap sutras on the bells so no one else will
steal them. Sometimes that can backfire. Like hanging up a
sign: Valuable, Keep Away. Some demons take that as a
challenge."

Working as quickly as he could, he sealed the bells in all six
directions. Then with a jerk of his head he indicated the Jeep.
"Let's go."

There was a low, barely detectible rumbling in the ground that he
didn't like, and he knew this wasn't earthquake country. "Now."

"Hiei, why the rush?"

He shut his eyes for a split-second, took a deep breath, looked
at her.

"Beloved," he began, the word strange on his tongue.

She sank to her knees, staring up at him.
"We can't stay here. Too dangerous." He didn't like to see her
on her knees; he knelt to face her. "Something's after you. Not
me. You. That animal in the desert wasn't interested in me.
And those bulls, they were sent deliberately to your location.
Earlier yesterday there was something at this temple, and I think
it---they---were looking for you."

She stared at him, white around the nostrils.

"I think you know it too. Best to get you to Japan and---"

"Behind you," she said.

He shoved her out of the way, then turned, and saw it.

He wanted to run. He froze instead. Every hair on his body
stood at attention.

This was it: the thing that had found him when he first reached
the shrine. Forcing himself to act, sliding the katana out and
holding it before him in a double-handed, braced grip, Hiei
barked a low command to the girl. "Get on my back," he said, not
taking his eyes from the spot where---

He heard the hiss of gravel as she approached, felt her weight.
"Hold tight."

"What is it?" she breathed, lacing her hands around him.

He didn't know. It was like nothing he'd ever seen, but its aura
was familiar. Its aura struck ice at his bones, freezing him
almost unto paralysis. Something ancient and slow, and cold, and
immeasurably wicked.

And Hiei, Jagan Master, Master of the Black Dragon, slayer of
countless enemies, was afraid.

Afraid.

A white tube, the thickness of his arm, rose from the ground near
the bell tower like a fern unfolding in spring. It was not
plant-work, not like Kurama's doings; in a strict sense it was
probably not even alive at all. A smell like flint, but with
elements of---no, gone. Changing too quickly.

The white tube spiraled upward in a way he didn't like, then the
tip curved down toward them in a way he liked even less.

It was then that he spotted a head, tiny and vicious-looking, the
white eyes glittering down at him.

"Don't let go," he told her. The white tendril-creature whipped
forward, seeking him. He catapulted back and snapped a spark of
ki into his katana, forming a round blue shield just slightly
bigger in diameter than his body and extended sword.

The enemy writhed, then crashed down like a hammer, connected
with the crackle of protective energy from his shield. Hiei
sprang back as the creature straightened and pulsed, likely
increasing its strength.

"Jeep," he gasped, with another backward leap. "Driver's seat.

Take off."

She squeezed his shoulder in response. Then he was on the
windshield, the creature's head battering at him. He heard her
land in the seat, could not afford even a glance back. His type
of sword-shielding wouldn't stand up to repeated blows of this
nature. He parried, turning the sword, always keeping the shield
between her and the enemy. The motor coughed, snarled, refused
to catch.

Baka na! Ignoring Hiei, their foe skittered around the edge of
the shield, reaching for her. Damn, he thought, lunging to keep
the shield between her and the creature, it learns fast.

The motor caught! Gears ground. The hood jerked backward from
under him and he flipped to land on his feet, but the searching
tendril, with seemingly no limit to its length, again shot past
his guard.

Drop the shielding. Flick forward to swing the katana in a
sideways arc. Slice through the enemy.

His sword connected. The creature exploded in a burst of icy
powder. Some of the powder struck his face, and he could no
longer feel the exposed skin. No time. He spun, flickering down
the road, sheathing the katana.

She was already about a quarter-mile ahead, the Jeep slowing. He
caught up and hopped in beside her and she sped up. For a while
there was only the sound of the wind.

"Anything else you'd like to tell me?" she managed, her voice
thin and tight.

"Drive fast."

She drove awhile in silence, then: "Where to?"

"The airport. I checked the map."

"The---you don't mean that little fleabitten wind sock of an
airport that's no good for anything but crop dusters and World
War II rejects?"

"That would be the one."

"Target Japan?"

He nodded.

"Hiei." She pulled to the shoulder and stopped the Jeep. "Now
listen to me."

He vaulted to the windshield, where he could get a better view in
case any suicidal Chupa-what's-its should take it into their
thick skulls to attack. "Listening."

She spoke as if to a retarded child, or maybe Kuwabara. "My aunt
and uncle up in Palo Alto. One phone call and I can get a rental
car. We can drive to a real airport, then fly up there. They'll
be happy enough to let us stay with them."

"I don't have driving license."

"I do. And then they will buy us tickets. For a real jetliner.
That serves food and has bathrooms and everything."

"Not possible." There was no sign of movement and no scent of
youki. Good.

"Why not possible?"

"I don't have---" What did Urameshi call those things?
"Passport. No form of identification."

"So the border agent's here illegally? I find that funny. Don't
you find that funny?"

He dropped back into the seat next to her. "Did you see what
just attacked us?"

She nodded. Then closed her eyes and leaned against the steering
wheel.

"We don't have time."

"All right." She sighed, straightened, then pulled the Jeep onto
the road again. "What do you intend to do?"

"I'm stealing a plane."

"Don't tell me you know how to fly."

He laughed.

"You know what I meant. An airplane."

"I don't know how to fly one."
"But you'll watch the pilot and---?"

He shrugged. "It's tricky. Too big a plane, even I can't do it.
Has to be one-person craft."

More than tricky, Hiei knew. If the plane was too small...

Best not to think along those lines.

She drove on. At the airport, he pulled her bag from the space
behind the seats and slung it over one shoulder. He hesitated.
Its weight was negligible. But with what he was planning to
do---

No. This tiny bag would not make the difference whether they
lived or died.

She got out, eyeing him.

"Say good-bye to rustbucket and listen close. Stay behind me.
Under no circumstances come around to front. Stay silent. Watch
for my moves. I'll tell you what to do if I can."

"While you're doing what?"

"Using what's under the headband." He strode toward the hangar,
and she fell into step.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

The sun had gone down over White Sands, leaving the scorched
landscape under a blanket of indigo.

Inside the house was the sound of softly padding footsteps. They
echoed down the length of a hallway, and paused.

The miko hesitated in the doorway of the room with the long glass
windows. The only illumination came from the the creature that
had the outward appearance of a man, sitting close to a big
obsidian globe, a faint glow emanating from his long, braided
hair and alabaster skin.
It was an unhealthy light, tinged with the rot of decomposing
time, and as it touched the surface of the miko's face, she
appeared old, wrinkled, a crone who had outlived her usefulness.
But as she crossed the threshold of the room, and the light slid
to the floor, leaving her young and vibrant.

The blue light picked out the movements of her feet, as if afraid
to touch her in a more intimate fashion.

She glided to the low table that stood before the windows and put
out a hand toward the oni heads, but stopped, instead crossing to
where the man sat. "Only two of them now?"

"The other one outlived its usefulness."

"Then why are these other two heads still here? Did the enemy
get away?" she said.

The white-haired man laughed and pulled the miko onto his lap.
"No one gets away from me."

-30-

(To be continued---today!) ;)