We traveled to the temple where I had been shot, first. My blood was still dried onto the ground, and the grass beneath it was brown in death. I closed my eyes to bring back to mind the clear-cut memories of when I had been shot.

I had been talking to Hiei…

What had we been talking about?

He said something that made my heart pound…

But what?

And then, the arrow had pierced straight through my back, from underneath my left shoulder blade, in between my ribs, and out right below my lowest rib bone. This angle told me that the shooter would have been up above me. Possibly in the trees?

Without even telling Kurama my thoughts, I leapt straight up, landing delicately on a thick branch. A moment later, Kurama followed me.

"Do you have any idea who could have done this?" He said, his voice low like the shooter was still here. "Any demon in the Requiem that specializes in bows?"

"No," I said shortly, the majority of my attention focused on catching a whiff of the assassin who had been here a week prior. "We are all given basic skill training on a bow, but not many demons I've ever met have chosen one as their signature weapon. However…"

I spotted a deep wound in the branch of another tree. One that looked like someone had dropped acid on the bark. I lithely sprang over to tat branch, taking care not to touch the hole. I bent closer to sniff it instead, wrinkling my nose at the combined smell of holy water and aconitine. It was enough to melt a demon's nose hairs.

"However, only the top rank assassins of the Requiem are given access to the poison they used on me. The Boss must want me dead very badly."

With grace befitting a legendary fox bandit, Kurama jumped over onto the branch, and I panicked for a moment when the injured branch gave a creak of protest. But it held, and Kurama leaned over me to examine the wound. His intoxicating rose scent soaked into my senses, strangely making me long for the smell of burning wood and charcoal.

"Can you catch the scent of whomever was here?" Kurama asked softly.

I bit back an unnecessarily rude reply along the lines of Not if you weren't blocking my senses with that ridiculously potent musk of yours, and instead leaned down once again, nearly scratching the tip of my nose on the bark.

I inhaled deeply, ignoring the strong rose scent, the earthly tree fragrance, and the caustic poison one that was hovering like a silent threat.

There…It was faint, almost gone, but it was there.

The unfamiliar smell of blood, fear, and sweat. If deceit had a scent, then that is what it would smell like. I leaned back, not wanting to taint my sinuses with the smell, but knowing I would now have to track it.

"Is something wrong?" Kurama asked softly, his soft rose scent wondrously cleansing my senses of the stench.

"A traitor." I said, growling low in my throat in anger. I hated traitors. There was a reason why the deepest pit of hell was reserved for betrayers. "Our very own Judas Iscariot. Except I don't know whether this Judas' betrayal is directed at me, or the Boss."

"Forgive my rudeness, but isn't that contradicting what you're doing? You're hunting down members of the Requiem. That's a betrayal in its own right." Kurama said logically.

I gritted my teeth in anger, but not at Kurama. "It's different. They're the ones that dealt the first blow. Therefore, whatever I do now is not disloyalty, but self-defense."

"No honor among thieves…" Kurama muttered under his breath. I raised my eyebrows at him.

"That sounds kind of funny coming from the greatest demonic thief of all time."

Kurama shrugged. I slipped off the branch, landing lightly on my feet. Kurama dropped to my side only a second later. I took a step away from him so that his delicious scent wouldn't clog up my senses again.

The treacherous odor had left a faint trail leading away from Tokyo. That was a surprise. Most assassins high-tailed it back to the Requiem after succeeding in a mission. Maybe we did had a renegade; an enemy of both the Boss and I. That was a very dangerous position.

Except there was one problem: I couldn't go any further. Even being in the forest was stretching the bounds of my confinement, and no doubt I would be in serious trouble if I continued after the demon for even two more meters. I snarled ferociously in anger, causing Kurama to jump.

"Damn it all!" I yowled, furiously slamming my fist into a tree, imbedding splinters deep into my hand. I ignored the shooting pain. "That bastard must know I can't follow him! Son of a-"

"Calm down," Kurama said anxiously, careful not to get too close in case I felt the urge to take my fury out on something besides nature. I took several deep breaths to try and gain control of myself for my friend's sake. I finally closed my eyes, unclenching my fists. Pain shot up my arm once more as the shards of wood moved around under my skin. Noticing me wince, Kurama took my hand.

"You should get Yukina to take a look at that," he said softly. "I'll get Yusuke and we'll go after this demon. Any particular direction he went?"

I waved my uninjured hand vaguely towards the west. "That's the way he headed after shooting me. I can't tell you any more than that."

"It's enough. Thanks," He gave my shoulder a comforting squeeze before turning and heading back towards Tokyo. I followed at a slower pace, ignoring the trail of blood I was leaving (which was probably going to end up biting me in the ass again one day).

By the time I reached the temple, Kurama was long gone. I tried not to worry about the fox too much, but as I didn't exactly have many friends, I was determined to keep the ones I did have.

Neither Yukina nor Genkai were in the temple, or the surrounding grounds. I frowned in concern, but the lingering clean scent of Yukina told me that they had only left a few minutes ago, and it had been without struggle. I sigh in frustration as my plan to get my hand quickly treated was foiled.

I sunk down on the floor in the middle of the sanctuary, resigned to pulling the splinters out myself.

"What did you do this time?" An exasperated voice asked from the dark hallway. A second later, the smell of charcoal and smoke I had been longer for reached my nostrils. I turned my head to see Hiei walking towards me.

"How do you know if I've done something or not?" I asked innocently, hiding my hand behind my back. Hiei raised his eyebrows.

"Because I was able to smell your blood from the moment you entered the temple," he said calmly. "You're not the only one with a good nose, you know."

I sighed and held up my hand so he could see it. He frowned, stepping closer.

"I got mad and punched a tree," I confessed. I expected Hiei to chuckle, or at least smile, but instead his eyes darkened with fury.

"The assassins after your head are doing a good enough job of hurting you without your help," he said shortly. I opened my mouth to fire an angry retort, which was caught in my throat as Hiei abruptly sat down and took my bleeding hand in his own.

"It'd be better if Yukina was here to help," he muttered. "I'm not good at doing things like this gently."

"Why does that not surprise me?" I sighed, clenching my teeth together as Hiei grasped the tip of a sliver and yanked it out. Blood pulsed out freely, splashing onto the floor. Hiei swore.

"How can a tiny waif like you have so much blood?" He hissed angrily.

"I'm not a waif!" I protested indignantly. Any further verbal defense was cut off as Hiei lowered his mouth to my hand to lick up the blood.

My heart began to pound painfully hard, and I momentarily felt like I was floating. A moment later, Hiei brought his head back up, wiping his mouth.

"Not bad," he commented. I blinked, reveling in the closest thing to a compliment I'd ever received from Hiei. My hand felt like it was burning, but it wasn't an unpleasant feeling.

I think I was still in a state of shock as Hiei resumed pulling out the splinters. I didn't even feel the other wood fragments leaving my skin. All I could think about was the ornery fire demon in front of me.

Finally, the last bloody sliver dropped to the ground, and I forced myself to come back down to earth. Hiei was staring at my hand, still bleeding, like he was unsure of what to do next. At last he slid his hand down to circle around my wrist, gently pulling me to my feet.

"Come on," he said, pulling me along behind him without giving a clue to where we were going. I found I didn't care, even if he was taking me down to burn in the fires of hell. Just as long as he was beside me.