Part
9:
Gambit
Wow. An actual chapter, actually before deadline. Given this story's history, that's practically worth a medal.
This is a very long chapter, the longest to date, and pushes things a bit more into action. I was worried that some parts of it might be rushed, but my beta tells me this is not so; therefore I hope you enjoy, and I'm already working on Chapter 10!
The copse was at the edge of the Makai forest, its thirty or so trees thin and scrawny, though comparatively bigger and more lush than any in the Ningenkai. The six-hour time difference between the two mortal worlds made it just sunset here, the already reddish sky becoming nearly molten, and clouds gathered at the western edge of the horizon, lightning visible even at this distance though the thunder of the shaping storm could not yet be heard. The rain would arrive just as the sun set completely, but that would not be for another few minutes; for now, all was calm.
Sheltered by the innermost trees, where he could see neither sun nor bloody sky, Kurama lay, cradled by kind branches and soft, gentle leaves. Motionless, his hair concealed his face, aiding the shadows in making his vision all but useless. All he could see were blurred patches of gray and dark red, but he didn't need to see more. He'd watched many sunsets in this world, seen and known all kinds of trees in his long lifetime. Nothing was new to him now.
Not even this emotion was entirely a stranger. Once in a great while he had felt this way, and he could call each time to mind. The first time had been in his youth, when he was hardly into his second century -- the cause had receded beyond memory. Hundreds of years had passed before he felt it again; Kuronue lingered in his thoughts for a time. And then Hiei, Yuusuke, Kuwabara -- and now his human mother.
It was an odd sort of feeling that slowed his breathing and left a hollow pulse beneath his heart -- like a sudden wind through a dormant room, a flutter, a strange echo. It wasn't even really pain, but it deadened his limbs, and he felt no need to move, to answer the calls of hunger or thirst, or to look at anything in particular.
He felt as though he could easily forget it had ever happened. This calm was so thorough that he was in no danger of disgracing himself as he had before. The news of Hiei's death had been so unexpected; a blow to the chest rather than this quiet, vacant sense of lassitude. It had hurt, and still hurt, threatening his control whenever he thought on it at all. To forget would be impossible for any but the barest of moments.
What, then, was the difference? He supposed that he had expected this outcome, and for far longer than he had admitted to himself. His vain hope notwithstanding, he had come to accept, somewhere deep in his unconscious mind, that this would come.
Her eyes so full of fear, her tears, her denial --
He had allowed so few close enough to cause this emotion in him, but his mother was the first ningen to come so near, and as always, his time with her had been short. Nearly seventeen years, and it was only an eyeblink in the span of his long life, even to only the years he had already lived. With his new body, he could live for centuries more -- even he had no idea precisely how long his years had been extended by this form. The body he inhabited was much more than merely human. Changed on a fundamental level by his kitsune youki, he estimated that he could sustain it for the next half-millennium if he so chose, and then he might even have the option of finding a demon's body to use, which would give him much, much longer. The prospect of near-immortality loomed in his future --
He was so damned tired of it all.
Would he ever unlearn his foolishness? After centuries, he still let people get close to him. Worse, in the last sixteen years, a mere sixteen years, he had allowed not one but four individuals inside his defenses. That was more than foolish: that was unforgivable. He was fully aware of what happened every time he did this; why hadn't he stopped it at the beginning, when there had still been time?
Yuusuke would say that even demons need companionship. Kuwabara would disagree and say that demons are evil -- present company excepted, of course. Hiei would just say that he hoped I'd learned my lesson this time; friends are for the weak. My kaasan -- she would wonder what she missed, who I was, why she never knew. A bright, cold feeling in his throat. I need them.
And yet a part of him looked back on his actions and thoughts and despised him for a coward and a weak-hearted simpleton. I never needed them, its voice scoffed. The spineless human I have become needs them. I am youko: I am above them. They are chattel. I should never have lowered myself to so much as grant them my notice; my human "mother" was just a vessel to preserve my life, nothing more.
It warred with his emotions. I owe them. I owe them my life many times over; it is a debt I have not yet repaid. They have given without reservation, and I have not been truly honest with them, save Hiei. They will not understand, as my mother did not understand.
Then they do not deserve to understand. I owe them nothing.
I owe them a farewell, at least.
That is already given. What more holds me back? Honor? Loyalty? Those are dead. Youkai do not need them. It is better to leave them behind.
I -- cannot.
But I must.
It ended there. He stood, pushing back his hair, the leaves and branches parting fluidly to expose the darkening sky. He could smell the coming rain.
If I survive, I will not go back to the human world. There is nothing for me there now. When this is all over, Makai will once again be my home. My life will truly be as it once was -- and I will not make the same mistakes again.
x . o . x . o . x . o . x
An odd, shrieking cry split the air, knifing through his hearing with a suddenness that made him skid to an ungainly halt at the crest of the hill. Horse-like ears swiveled back, catching the soft shushing sound of feet moving swiftly over dry grass, and he half-turned, expectant, patiently waiting.
Rapacious winds tore at the landscape, separating branch from parent tree and dashing masses of soil and dust into airborne life, and yet it was born not of nature's whims, but of a titanic fury that emanated from one small, feminine shape fairly flying across the ground. Once-gray eyes were a molten, shifting quicksilver, beautiful and terrifying and altogether unholy. He awaited her approach with something less than calm, apprehension beginning as he sensed her rage beating at his skin.
As that familiar face, those frightening eyes, drew closer to him, he felt as though he would suffocate beneath the force of that anger; it drove the breath from his lungs and left him gasping, his hackles rising in an involuntary echo of wrath.
She topped the hill in one massive surge of speed, and was upon him --
"GYAAAH!"
Kuwabara tore out of sleep, falling sideways off a bed that by now was strange and unfamiliar. For a moment his mind refused to clear -- then the dream-fog lifted, and he was able to focus on the hardwood floor and at what a skewed angle he was seeing it. It was morning, and he was -- home.
Disorientation set in, followed quickly by equilibrating memory. He just hadn't spent a night at home in more than two weeks, and it had been a long and surreal two weeks at that. The entire room felt alien, more so than snow or ice as a bed. Though the last time he had walked that snow he had not had to sleep in it; a now-accommodating Botan had dropped him off well inside the koorime territory, and it was only an hour's walk or so to a safe point just beyond the village. There he had left Yukina with a brief farewell and taken in return her promise to visit once her duty was discharged.
Shizuru was home. He heard her in the other room and guessed that she was cooking breakfast by the sound and the scent of miso soup. Eikichi appeared at the foot of the bed, mewling a greeting and demanding to be petted. Outside the clouded sky had just stopped drizzling, and cars hummed by at their normal semi-regular intervals.
Quiet.
As he sat still, absorbing the peaceful non-noise around him, Kuwabara had an inexplicable feeling that he shouldn't stay here. It wasn't that he shouldn't be here, only that there was something he ought to be doing.
Is it because of the dream? What was that about, anyway? I wonder what Shizuru would think about it.
Another yowl, louder; a tiny paw batted at his bare foot, making it tickle. He looked down and grinned at his cat. "Hey, Eikichi, come to Ka-zu-ma!" He scooped the feline up into his arms and gave her a hug, aware of how much he had missed his pet. Eikichi, smart as always, bit him soundly on the back of the neck until he let her go with an indignant squawk.
His sister poked her head around his doorframe at that point. "So you're finally awake, Kazuma. About time. Breakfast is almost ready. Make sure you leave your pajamas in the basket and not on the floor."
"Some 'good morning,' " he grumbled. "Fine, I'll make sure I keep my room clean. Happy?"
"Keep up that attitude and we'll find out how much you want breakfast. Now hurry up." She was already vanishing around the corner. "You're going to be late for school."
Oh, that's right. School.
Uneasiness and restless thoughts tagged after him all the way through breakfast and along his walk through the district to the school building. Clouds drifted past his eyes and through his mind during the lecture as he spent the hours gazing out the window, thinking of nothing in particular and letting the uneasy feeling subsume his entire attention until he was aware of little else.
I always enjoy the peace after a mission. What's wrong with me now? Is it because I fought with Urameshi, or because of Kurama? Or maybe it's because of the dream. Why can't I focus?
The final bell startled him when it sounded, and as the other students scurried for the door he wondered for a brief moment how he had managed to spend the entire day half asleep without anyone bothering him. Had he gone to lunch? He might have; he wasn't hungry at all, and it looked like his lunch had been opened. He didn't really remember eating, though.
"Oh, well," he said aloud, and stood to gather his things. He almost slammed into Keiko in the same motion.
"Oh, hey, Keiko! Sorry, I didn't see you standing there."
"That's all right," she smiled.
"Listen, can I have your lecture notes tomorrow? I think the sensei said we're having a quiz." He put on a silly grin and laughed in embarrassment.
And then the feeling surged, and he became aware that this was part of what he should be doing: talking to Keiko.
"Sure," she was answering him. "Hey . . . can we talk for a minute before you go?"
He nodded, seeing her expression as subdued as his own had been, and followed her out of the classroom, trusting in the knowledge that his feelings were never, ever wrong.
x . o . x . o . x . o . x
Hiei didn't care for Kurama's attitude. Anger was fine. Grief was acceptable, as long as one kept it well-hidden. Self-pity was inexcusable.
An inner prompting told him to ignore it as Kurama's right -- it wasn't his job to make sure the fox didn't disgrace himself, only to keep him alive -- and he saw no logical reason not to heed it; however, he was picking up thought echoes, close as he was to his friend's soul, and it was driving him lunatic. His own stress and annoyance levels were up considerably. He had spent several hours trying to find a way to do something about it.
If the bloody fox would just go to sleep as his body demanded, Hiei's work would be simple. He would be glad of another chance to talk to Kurama directly, now that their first, rather unsettling meeting was past and over with. Kurama was not cooperating with this plan, to Hiei's depthless frustration. The kitsune was not happy, and seemed to take a perverse pleasure in making himself as uncomfortable as possible by neglecting to either eat or sleep. His body would be able to handle it for days, and Hiei was certain he would be driven to kill Koenma if it went on that long, since he couldn't really even hurt anyone else, save Botan who just wouldn't be as satisfying. His self-control in not damaging Reikai's heir was not aided by the fact that Kurama wanted very, very badly to rip the god's throat out.
On Hiei's behalf, no less.
The sanjiyan had, a day or so ago, thrown up his insubstantial hands in disgust and incomprehension. Why the hell Kurama thought Koenma was responsible for Hiei's current state, Hiei could not fathom in the least. The Reikai Tantei had been betrayed, yes, and lied to, and it was not as if he didn't agree with and share in their fury at that, but apparently they were all in agreement that among Koenma's crimes was the indirect killing of Hiei. He suspected it was probably Yuusuke's bright idea, and now they were all raging about something totally pointless.
Hiei supposed he might have waited until a later date had he not thought Kurama was dead, but as for that being the actual cause --
He was suddenly very irritable.
This had gone on quite long enough. He scowled at his brooding corporeal companion, and tried the first thing that came to mind.
Fox, WAKE UP!
x . o . x . o . x . o . x
Kurama sat bolt upright, hair on end. He cast about on all sides, searching for threats of any kind. None.
What was that?
It had slid over his othersense like a cobweb, untraceable and disconcerting and altogether too brief -- a tiny wisp of presence that was somehow focused, as though it were hiding, yet declaring itself at the same time. And it was miffed.
Here in the Makai, only a strong or peculiar presence would be detectable in such a fashion; weak demons passed under any radar but their own, due to the constant aura of demonic energy radiated by even the plants. Normally he would have searched for it; the instinct to seek it out had to be quashed with no small effort. Even less now than before could he afford to be sensed, what with both sides currently out for his blood and he without a safe haven to speak of. His only reasonable chance (small as it was) lay in stealth, which meant that, as when he had worked for Donari, he was limited in the use of his abilities and his senses.
In plainer words, this is not good.
Oh, this was worse than not good. There was a furtive shadow lurking near him, and it was angry. He knew it couldn't be Donari or Gendou -- it wasn't their way to go by stealth -- but it could very well be a Reikai agent, a stray enemy with a grudge, or any one from a broad selection of extremely unfortunate things.
I have to assume it knows where I am already. I need some cover. The brooding he had done today had made his limbs nearly leaden; he moved with speed but little grace. There was a nearby cave that had once been one of his own haunts, the reason why he had chosen this place to disappear, and it was the work of a moment to reach it, slip inside its shallow overhang, and recharge the protections. This would buy him some time, although little -- the wards themselves were not exactly inconspicuous.
All right. Now I need to find it before it zeroes in on me. A light trance should do.
He pulled his legs into a crossed position and spent the next half hour or so delicately probing with his mind for disturbances in the energy flow around the cave. It was strictly a short-range technique, and correspondingly less dangerous, so he took his time to see that he was fully satisfied with his thoroughness before he finally decided that he had probably lost his pursuer; there was nothing here --
-- except that bright tangle of energy, of course --
He started mentally as it entered his scanning field, and almost had to laugh as he recognized it. He began to release his trance-state and return to consciousness. So. Finally it comes.
When he woke fully, Botan was floating above his shelter, waiting politely and silently for him to stir.
Her presence was what had roused him -- her slight, distinct energy signature nagged gently at his mind, not bothering to hide itself. It was more than familiar; he half-recalled it brushing him furtively in the recent past, tagging him over days and vanishing at odd intervals. It was not the anger he had sensed, but he now realized that the other fleeting shadow on his heels had been hers; that was one mystery solved. It made him smile, wryly, before he greeted her.
"Botan. What do you need?"
Her eyes relaxed almost imperceptibly. "I just wanted to see how you were," was her simple answer. "I've been given a few days' leave, and I thought I should make sure everyone was okay."
"Will you take back a report?"
She blinked. "No. Why would I?"
He barked a vulpine laugh. "Koenma cannot overlook my defection, especially as I am under his parole. I expected to sense his spies long before now, though I did not anticipate that I would be found so easily or openly as this." And now, then, would be the end; he would be taken back to the Reikai and forced to account. He smiled. "You do your job well, and faithfully. I would expect no less."
With those words, he gently let her know that he absolved her of any blame. He had seldom encountered a sweeter soul, and knew the conflict she must have felt, being ordered to lie to those for whom she cared deeply. He was long past the time when he would have blamed the servant for the deeds of the master.
Her eyes showed with wordless gratitude that she comprehended. "He's sent none at all," she told the redhead. "He's been far too caught up in trying to mend this situation, and his -- talk with Yuusuke was very hard on him. He hasn't said anything about you since he asked for my last report; I really think he doesn't care right now."
Kurama shrugged. "I find it difficult to care for his peace of mind."
"I understand," Botan said, "but you don't realize how this has been for him. Every lie he told you was to protect you, and he feels worse than anyone that he failed. What happened with Hiei -- wasn't supposed to happen."
She had such pain behind her words that it was impossible to doubt her. It also sounded like Koenma's warped reasoning to have made decisions like that. The kami didn't seem to learn from the past as he should, or he would have recognized the folly of such a volatile plan. Kurama did not know the particulars, nor was it necessary; it was clear to what end that folliy must come.
His anger did not dim, but it began, unwillingly, to thread itself with pity. The godling was learning a hard lesson through the betrayal of his team, one that he had apparently not foreseen.
"Won't you come back?" Botan asked suddenly, looking up at him from the section of turf she had been studying, tears threatening. "Are things really over?"
He shook his head. "I cannot. There is far too much between myself and Koenma that would make that impossible. I wish it were otherwise, but there is nothing I can do to restore things to the way they were, and I would not try only to fail. Let the break be clean; there is enough anger." He watched her face as he added, "I would like it if you would visit me, however. I enjoy your company." And I have very little else.
"I would like that," she replied. Her hands tightened on her oar handle until the knuckles were white. "I'm going to find Yuusuke now. Is there anything you want me to tell him?"
"No. Only -- don't tell him where I am for a while. I believe I require some more time alone."
"I understand."
She flew up high into the trees, and vanished.
Kurama sat in quiet for some time, reviewing the encounter. One thing stuck out -- Koenma was not, as he had thought, searching for him, nor was he likely to in the near future. That was unexpected good news. Very good news, actually.
He almost felt like laughing. He had assumed the worst, and Inari had rewarded his caution with phenomenal, almost ludicrous luck. That was one major problem simply gone from his consideration, which would lessen his restrictions greatly. In fact, as he thought on it, he realized that it had been the one factor that had kept dashing all his half-formed plans for his next move. It was almost perfectly clear what he should do now. He didn't much like what it was -- but that was inconsequential.
It was finally time to take an offensive stance in dealing with his problems. While evading capture by the Reikai would have rendered it nigh impossible to pull off, Kurama now felt that it would be successful, if only partially, which would be enough. It would also afford him the slimmest of chances for survival.
I suppose I knew it was inevitable the moment I fled from Donari's home, he reflected with a fatalistic smile beneath his concealing hair. They will come for me, and I am not likely to survive the encounter. I have wasted much time trying to discover a way around it, which could have been better spent in planning. If I am to die in this confrontation, it will be on my own terms, and I may still leave an advantage behind for the rest of the Tantei.
It was high time he went hunting.
x . o . x . o . x . o . x
The single, kimono-clad figure accompanied her escorts into the deepest part of the village, head bowed, eyes averted so that she need not look into the faces of any of her people. The snow hardly crunched under her slight weight, and she was as silent as the scouts she followed, her shame palpable in the biting air.
There was no longer a central hut. Small teams of koorime were standing at even intervals, working with hands and energy to slowly build up the shattered walls from their crumbled and jagged foundations; the frozen clay was molded and fitted to cover any gaps and keep the new walls tight and strong in the absence of the branches that had supported the building since its first construction. More teams, composed primarily of scouts, were healing the damaged tree trunks and encouraging new branches to grow -- it would be years, perhaps more, before the trees fully recovered. One was already beyond saving.
The escort passed the construction and halted at a smaller hut—it belonged to a bonded pair of koorime, who had graciously given it up for the Elders' use until their own meeting hall was finished. One of them rapped on the door, and was admitted. The other gestured to her ward and followed close behind.
A rush of pleasantly chilled air bathed Yukina as she stepped inside with trepidation. She slipped off her sandals at the genkan, stepped forward and bowed as low as she could. The escort quietly departed.
"Elder."
The Elder nodded to her to sit down, and she knelt. This was the head of the council, by whose name Yukina had never heard her addressed -- this was the woman to whom she would defer for her punishment. She kept her eyes low, and accepted the proffered tea with a mumbled thanks.
"Yukina. Why do you return here?"
So there were to be few pleasantries. "I return so that I may be punished for what I have done," she said, still not looking up.
"Why do you wish to be punished?"
"I am responsible for the destruction of the meeting place. I must be called to account." She trembled inside to think of it. The words she had spoken to reassure Kazuma seemed trivial and hollow. They could exile her forever from the village; though this crime might not warrant it, coupled with what she had done in the past, it was enough.
She had fled without permission, breaking the taboo on interacting with the outside world, to find her brother, who was never even to be spoken of in the presence of the young children of the village. She had been gone so long that she hardly remembered why she had left -- there were new huts, more expansive gardens, and a new meeting place, which she had destroyed by proxy.
"Is there anything else for which you must account?" The raspy voice was without mercy or expression.
Yukina's hands tightened around her teacup. "I must also be punished for running away, and defying the law."
There was a moment of silence, stretching on until she had to lift her head. The Elder was merely watching her, a thin rime of frost decorating her brow, impassive. Once Yukina was looking her in the eyes, she asked, "And do you know why the law exists?"
Not a surprising question, under the circumstances. "Yes, Elder. It exists to keep our people safe from the depredations of the outside world, and most especially of men."
"Yes. Even in these troubled times, the law may keep us safe. In the years since our floating city was abandoned, we have been forced back to barbarism. Out of respect for the land, we only freeze it, and leave its wildlife be -- our homes are no longer beautiful buildings, but crude huts that use the trees for pillars. Our peaceful women have become warriors out of necessity. Only the ice we create allows us to survive."
"But I have lived in warmer climes, and not been harmed by the heat," Yukina said softly, falling naturally back into her people's archaic manner of speech. "I have dwelt among the humans, and known the best and worst they have to offer; I have known the most brutal torture from which our people fled, and I have known men gentler and kinder than I have ever been."
The temperature rose minutely, a sign of the Elder's sudden anger, and she flinched, losing the rest of what she had been about to say. But there was no harsh response, only a long, breathless minute of anticipation before the coolness returned to the room. "Do not be taken in by individual examples. Our people have avoided war and strife for thousands of years, only by ostracizing men from every aspect of our lives. Other places are in constant struggle, while we remain a society of peace and safety. One so young as you sees little beyond the moment -- when you are a mother, and responsible for the safety of a life other than your own, you will see what our ancestors saw."
"Yes, Elder. I am sorry."
Internally, she was anything but. She had seen the price that this way of life exacted, and wanted none of it for her children. Danger was preferable to stagnation and fear.
"And now, we will discuss your punishment," the Elder told her. "Tell me, what would you mete out to one who has committed such an offense as yours?"
"I -- I have not the wisdom for such a decision," she stuttered. "It is not my place!"
Almost gently, the older woman replied, "You will be an Elder yourself someday. If you do not have wisdom now, how will you acquire it?"
"Ano . . . through experience," was Yukina's hesitant answer. "Is this not the way of wisdom?"
"Wisdom is innate, my dear child. It must grow from an existing crystal, and spread as ice on a pane, until no transparencies remain. You will be as I am -- this is a test of your growth. What punishment would you bestow?"
Yukina opened her mouth, then closed it again, at a loss. She was strangely torn. Here, this was one of the Elders she had respected for much of her life, speaking words of praise and according her great honor, and she was yet wary; this was also the woman who had ordered her brother killed in his infancy for nothing more than being born a male, and had denied Hina's plea to depart forever with her children so that he might be spared.
Do I truly wish that kind of wisdom?
Did she have a choice?
She said, "I would assign a task of reparation, of healing, to mend the damage caused. Perhaps a task that would require much time and toil. It seems to me that I had good intentions, though they went awry, and so I would not deserve a harsh punishment." Looking up into the Elder's lined face, and wondering if she even spoke the truth, she added, "I only wish to repair the destruction I caused by bringing men into our village and failing to keep our laws. I would not do such a thing again."
The older woman paused to pour more tea, then rested her hands on her lap. "I agree with your judgment. You are a good child; you have merely tested your bonds, as all children do, and are forgiven your transgressions so long as you accept your atonement. Your task will be this: you must go and find a strong sapling of the kind our village surrounds, and bring it to replace the tree that we could not save with our meager healing power. You may continue your life outside our village, but you will return each month to care for it until it has grown stronger and taller than its predecessor, or until you bear your second child. You must spend one day here in contemplation; the following dawn will mark the time of your departure. Will you submit to the will of your Elder?"
"I will, and gladly," Yukina answered in the ritual words. "I am honored by your leniency, and will trust in your wisdom always."
And her own voice mocked her in the dark recesses of her mind:
Liar.
x . o . x . o . x . o . x
The night was sultry and thick as the humidity built towards a downpour, and correspondingly dark and gloomy. Here in the forest that surrounded the temple steps, had Yuusuke been at all inclined to believe in vengeful ghosts any longer, he'd have been well and truly creeped out, especially at the lack of any wildlife sounds to be heard amidst the wind in the branches. Although, he speculated, there might be a stray demon or two skulking around under the cover of this darkest night, hiding itself in the quiet aura of energy this place exuded.
Blind in the dimness, he cursed his luck. There would have been at least moonlight to see by, but the storm hunkered down over the temple and brooded damply, biding its time until he was too far from shelter to avoid a soaking. He glared up at the inky sky and wished he had left sooner. It figured that the old lady didn't even have lamps lining the stairs -- that this was supposed to be a solitary stronghold that discouraged callers was not in the least mollifying.
He supposed he could just ask for a room for the night, but he was thoroughly uncomfortable here under even normal circumstances, and the telling-off he had received this visit made the prospect of an overnight stay very unpleasant. Stupid relic. Where does she get off telling me what I'm feeling?
And he wasn't entirely certain she was wrong, which only made him more pissed off. First my mom sends me to my room first thing when I get home, then Keiko yells at me for not being around again, and then the old lady gets all psychic and tries to be my shrink. And, to top it off, I'm gonna get rained on any minute now. What a perfect day this has been.
His life, he decided, was entirely too full of high-handed women. Even Botan pushed him around when she could get away with it, and Shizuru Kuwabara had a way of making him feel like a petulant child when she wanted to. Yukina was the only female he knew that never told him what to do, and that was only because she was probably still a kid by demon standards; she'd most likely grow into it soon anyway, and he'd be plagued at every turn. Then there would be nothing for it but to build a compound of his own and just never come out. A compound filled with video games, instant curry, and a direct portal to the demon world so he could beat up youkai whenever he got bored. A compound without teachers or police or snobby rich kids. And with comic books. And also a TV.
A compound completely devoid of annoying, nagging, bossy females who had no business trying to get inside his head and inform him of what his feelings were even though they couldn't possibly know because they weren't him and he knew exactly what he was feeling, thank you very much --
The sound of footsteps not his own jarred him from a very promising sulk and into alertness. He was near the bottom of the slope, and there was another figure walking in the humid darkness, coming up the steps as he was going down. He made out a flash of muted color: orange. He knew that color anywhere.
Kuwabara slowed, then stopped next to him, and he halted, eyes averted. Great. This just keeps getting better. What the hell am I supposed to say to him? "Hey, what's up, sorry I punched you in the face yesterday?"
"Urameshi."
He didn't really feel like looking up. "Yeah?"
"Where are you going?"
"Nowhere special."
"Back home?"
"Yeah."
"Oh."
There was a heavy pause. Yuusuke held back a sigh before he finally said, "I'll see you when our next case comes up, okay?" Sluggish limbs obeyed at last and he resumed his walk down the stairs, eyes on the stones at his feet, keenly aware of the dark-lit blue to his left as he passed. Just let him not say anything -- just let him not hit me -- just let me get past and out of here --
"Wait a minute, Urameshi."
Dammit, dammit, dammit . . .
"Yeah, what?"
"I just wanted to apologize."
It took Yuusuke a moment to make words come out. "I had to have heard that wrong. Come again?"
Kuwabara stepped down a few feet to stand next to him again, facing him this time, and spoke in quiet tones. "I thought a lot about things, and I think I figured out why you've been acting this way. Hell, most of the stuff you said to Koenma, I wanted to say myself. I guess you have a right to be angry and a right to say so, and I'm not gonna blame you for feeling the way you do. So I'm sorry I said what I did, and I won't fight about it anymore." He stopped for an instant, then said, "We've lost too many friends to let something stupid break up our team any more than it already is."
Yuusuke finally managed to look at him. His friend was solemn under the shadows, but no longer angry as he had been back in Koenma's office. He even gave Yuusuke a ghost of a grin when he saw his face.
Shit. He's serious. And he's got no reason to be, either; but I can't throw this away. I might not get the chance to fix things again if I do.
"Hey -- thanks," he replied quietly. "I'm sorry, too. I haven't been thinking the clearest these last couple days, and I didn't really mean to punch you. I thought for sure you'd quit speaking to me," he added with a weak smile. "I kinda deserve it."
"You're still being stupid. I said I understand. That's why I'm here -- Keiko said you'd be at the temple, and I had a feeling I should find you before you did anything dumb."
Yuusuke snorted. "Like what?"
"Like going off to find Kurama by yourself."
"I wasn't going to," the shorter boy said, aggrieved. "For one thing, I don't want Koenma to know where he is, because then he'd be in trouble."
Kuwabara had begun walking down the steps, and Yuusuke followed without thought to hear his response. "Nah, Koenma's too busy with other stuff. He said he won't bother looking for Kurama if he doesn't want to get found. I think he really feels guilty about everything he did, so he'll probably let Kurama do whatever he wants for a while."
"Yeah, but after that, he'll find him and dump him in jail for skipping out on parole," Yuusuke growled. "He's just that much of an asshole. I wish I'd followed Kurama instead of going back up there."
As they reached the bottom and turned towards town, and the rain began to drive around them, the carrot-top halted again. "We really should go find him, Urameshi. Koenma told me some of what his mission was about, and there are some pretty strong demons that'll probably be looking for him. I hope he hasn't done something stupid yet, like get captured."
"That bad, huh? It figures. He should be safe here in the city, though; there's a lot of places to hide, and he probably knows how to blend in better than anyone."
Kuwabara shook his head. "Koenma says his energy signature passed the gate twice yesterday -- once to this side, and then back. He's somewhere in the Makai now. Koenma doesn't know where 'cause he can only keep track of the gate."
Yuusuke swore luridly. "He told me about the demons he was spying on, and I thought for sure he'd at least hide out on this side of the barrier! Dammit!" If he's not in the Ningenkai, where the hell does he think he's gonna go? And what about his mom -- oh, shit. Maybe that's why he's not hanging out here . . .
Kuwabara made an offended noise and rounded on him suddenly. "If you knew they would be after him, how could you be not planning to find him? Were you just gonna sit on your ass and play video games? He's gonna need our help, you selfish rat!"
"Calm down, will ya? I told you I didn't want to get him in trouble in Spirit World. If he won't be in trouble, then yeah, we should go find him. Just chill."
His friend subsided with bad grace. "Fine, but you don't have to make it sound like it was obvious."
"You done grumbling?" Yuusuke shot him a dark, disgusted look. "We've got a lot of Makai to cover."
"Duh, of course I'm ready! Bet I beat you there!"
And inside Yuusuke's gut, relief spread like acid. Somehow, though the confirmation of Kuwabara's continued friendship should have relaxed the painful knots a little, it only twisted them tighter.
Here was one more thing he could still lose.
x . o . x . o . x . o . x
That night, Kurama awoke to find himself among the familiar, sunny trees of the park once again. There was a layer of dew on the grass, and even a stray crow cawing in the fragrant air -- but he knew why he was here.
"Hiei!" he called, already furious. "Hiei, where are you?"
A dark shape detached itself from a tree branch and appeared at his side. "Impatient today, I see. What do you want?"
"You," Kurama said through a rather tight jaw, "are in my dream. What do you want, other than apparently to be captured as quickly as possible?"
An infuriating shrug. "Just a word or two. I have a request to make, and a few questions to ask."
"Oh?" was the kitsune's arch reply.
Hiei got immediately to the point, turning to face his comrade with penetrating ruby eyes that positively brimmed with irritation. "Will you kindly stop sitting on your tail and moping like a lovelorn ningen female? I wasn't even aware that spirits could get headaches until you began this idiocy, and I've endured more than enough."
Looking down at his short, ill-tempered visitor, Kurama experienced a moment of pure, lucid rage. After what he had just experienced with his mother, he did not need a blunt, snide commentary on his reaction, nor was he willing to put up with one for the sake of Hiei's company.
"If you don't enjoy the thoughts on which you eavesdrop, you may leave." His voice would have chilled a gemstone brittle. "I fail to see why you are here in the first place, as neither of us had any way of knowing I wasn't being chased by the Reikai until last night."
"And where else do you suggest I go? I'm using your aura to cover my own, and I'm as safe this way as I would be anywhere."
Kurama went nearly white. "What?"
"Hn. How do you think I was eavesdropping? I was so close to your fool head that I couldn't help it."
"And you took this liberty without permission," the fox stated flatly. This meant Hiei would know everything he had been thinking, and most of those thoughts were not things he would have shared willingly.
"If you had stopped being stupid long enough to sleep a while, I'd have gotten it first," Hiei riposted neatly. "I've made my request, and now I'll ask my questions. Do you really think your plan will do anything besides get you killed faster?"
Kurama's anger cooled abruptly, though his newfound bitterness did not wane. Here was Hiei's real purpose in entering his dream: he was upset by the plan Kurama had devised during the evening, and in typical Jaganshi fashion was demanding an explanation. He remembered perforce their last dream-meeting, and softened just a bit further, even as he resolved not to be nearly as pathetically emotional this time.
"No," he said succinctly.
Hiei growled in annoyance. "Then why are you still considering it? I thought we discussed you staying alive. Are you that anxious to find out what real death is like, or are you just hunting for a new body since this one's become too inconvenient?"
"Don't insult me without cause, Hiei. I have no options left besides catching them off-guard or waiting to be found and killed. This way, I become unpredictable, and may perhaps surprise them into displaying a weakness."
I have already shown you all of mine. I can only hope you won't use them against me.
"Other than finding a new body, you mean," Hiei said, eyes suddenly opaque.
Kurama felt his own eyes widen a trifle. "You can't seriously be suggesting that I become another human child."
Shrug. "Or a demon child. Youkai bodies last longer."
"Hiei!"
"You didn't hesitate to choose that over death when you took this form," Hiei pointed out mercilessly. "What's stopping you now?"
That brought Kurama up short. He had already renounced his human life -- and Hiei knew it. The fire demon was right. A youkai would not hesitate.
So what continues to hold me back no longer has meaning. I cannot play the game of human ethics in this world; already it threatens my survival to try. So I must cast that aside, and think rationally -- would a new body really be the best course of action?
Hiei was watching him from behind guarded eyes, but Kurama could read those eyes as no others could. They were practically demanding that he acquiesce: Hiei did not want him to die. He'd known that since they had become Tantei, but Hiei had never spoken it, nor tried to be overprotective, and certainly not at his own expense. And yet here he was, deliberately risking his soul no matter his claim of relative safety, to see that Kurama remained alive.
He had considered this notion before, and had disregarded it out of hand, giving in to self-indulgent moping (to use Hiei's term). It had taken Botan's visit to knock him back to sense, whereupon he had immediately overreacted again to Hiei's presence. The intense anger was as uncharacteristic of him as his weepy internal soliloquies, and he let it die completely.
I have been a fool.
"No," he finally replied, reluctantly. "I cannot. Koenma would find me easily now that he knows what to look for; whether or not he is interested in arresting me at the moment, that will not last. I have broken my parole and my agreement, and I would not add to my sentence by fleeing in such a fashion. He might even count it as murder."
A flash of something crossed Hiei's expression, carefully retracted before it could be identified. "I see. So you're determined, then?"
A smile, wry and brief. "Do you see an alternative?"
"Hn. I suppose not. So what do you want me to do, since I'll be tagging along anyway?"
"Will you?"
"Like I said, I'm not safe anywhere, so I may as well go somewhere interesting."
Kurama considered. "I suppose I would ask you to carry a message for me."
Hiei glared sharply. "Any message you can't carry yourself isn't my problem."
"Indeed. It's Yuusuke's problem, if he doesn't receive it. Eventually the others will have to fight my enemies, and I want any tactical information I learn to be delivered to them in order to increase their chances of survival." He watched as Hiei thought on this; the Jaganshi's expression settled into irritated lines.
"So you want me to be a courier. But not to your ningen family?"
"No. Why?"
"Don't be flippant with me. It will only dull your fighting edge if you don't close off that route for good. Have you lost what little sense you possess?"
Kurama winced at the biting tone, but only internally; it was time he stopped showing his weaknesses to anyone. "I suppose I have," he gave as his reply. "I have been known to operate at less than my full capacity for reason where my mother is concerned. Do you have a point?"
Hiei had a point, albeit a brutal one. "Is she still your mother, then?"
A bitter smile. "Having been there, you should know."
"Stop dodging the question. You know why I'm asking."
"No. She is no longer mine to claim as kin." He stared Hiei down. "Satisfied?"
The sanjiyan nodded perfunctorily. "Good enough. It was necessary to establish that before I agreed to any plans that could get you killed."
"And it matters less, now that I have no home in the Ningenkai?" Then Kurama smiled thinly. "I suppose it does at that. Then you do agree?"
Hiei looked a bit sour, and flicked his bangs from his eyes in an unconscious, familiar gesture of aggravation. Kurama was strangely, vindictively mollified to know that he could still cause Hiei discomfiture. "I'll do as you ask. But I'd better not have to. If I find that you've acted foolishly, expect no sympathy from me." He looked piercingly at Kurama. "A single advantage unexploited, a single careless move, and you've wasted my time."
Kurama gave him an entirely vulpine grin. "Inari forbid."
x . o . x . o . x . o . x
It was just beginning to be light out, and Kurama was awake with the dawn, stalking his meal with renewed energy after so long a fast. There was little game to be had, so he would probably be hunting for some time, before beginning preparations to enact his plan.
Hiei was less than satisfied, but not altogether upset with this development as he had been before. It now sounded like a legitimate strategy -- and Kurama was now ready to execute it as such. In his previous mental state, he would have been completely unfit.
The fire demon was almost relieved. During their first talk the fox had been embarrassingly forward with his usually well-guarded emotions -- it had been so very ningen. This time, however, he was reacting to pain in proper vulpine fashion: by becoming quiet and dangerous, and just a touch vicious as well. It was a change of balance to approach him so warily, but it was a shift that Hiei appreciated well enough. He was far more accustomed to this sort of interaction, and was able to get his points across more clearly and in less time. He hoped it lasted.
And something was yet wrong.
It was too sudden. Hiei had low hopes for Kurama's rationality when it came time to fight. He had let himself backslide into ningen vulnerability and was no longer used to reacting quite as a youkai should -- it had been nearly a year since he had spent a significant measure of time in the Makai on any other errand than seed-gathering. Most of his time while not on a case was spent lazing about with Yuusuke and Kuwabara, letting their influence creep into his own behavioral pattern until even his youko form was less a ruthless demon than an exceptionally cruel human, albeit with some unique methods of torture. Hiei knew he would now balk at things that even months ago he would have done in an eyeblink. He would need to quickly regain his dispassion if he wanted to have any decent chance at survival.
That, he supposed, was something to speak of when Kurama took his planned nap at noon. There was that final opportunity for strategy, which he did not intend to squander. Kurama knew the terrain around the demons' home; if he could describe it, the two of them could work out tactics to maximize --
A bolt of energy slammed through Hiei's Jagan, blinding him. He lost his grip on Kurama's soul-shield and drifted free, clutching ghostly hands to his forehead to blot out the sensation. What the hell was this -- his Jagan was dormant, it was dead as he was!
But he remembered the dream --
Yukina!
She was in danger. He could hear her frantic heartbeat and taste her fear on every nerve; Where is she?
"Kurama!" he called out, but Kurama could not hear him. He was hunting, he was awake. He would have to be asleep -- Hiei didn't have the ability to connect a telepathic link any longer—not that he hadn't tried, but that had already failed before.
And then, layering itself on the knowledge of Yukina's peril, there came the knowledge of his own.
The Reikai agents he had been hiding from -- they were dangerously near, and he was suddenly aware that he was hidden no longer. He could not afford to be exposed; he was back in his aural shelter within a second, but it was a second too long. The feeling grew stronger, not weaker. They were coming.
Too slow! He cursed. They had located him, and would be here in only a short time, and then he would be forced to run. But I wonder -- can they get to me under Kurama's soul? What would happen if they tried?
Regardless, none of this was getting help to Yukina.
I have to communicate with Kurama somehow. He'd gotten his attention before, but the kitsune hadn't read anything but anger; his senses were dulled by concentration, and it was unlikely that he'd manage to get anything across now. But perhaps the Jagan, active as it was -- but it wasn't meant for communication -- dammit, he had no time!
He had to try anyway. KURAMA! GET TO YUKINA! PAY ATTENTION, DAMN YOU! But it was clearly no use. Kurama didn't even twitch, eyes on a small rodent of some kind and thinking of nothing else. Hiei kept trying, yelling in as close to his normal telepathic wavelength as his weirdly active Jagan would allow, and meeting with no measurable results.
And then he was out of time.
Two beings materialized out of the air in front of him. They were tall and willowy, with black shrouds for eyes and no other facial features to speak of; in their hands they carried each two enormous, thin silver hoops.
Hiei regarded them warily, faced with something entirely outside his experience. Under any other circumstances he would have attacked, assessed their capabilities and then either finished them or fled -- but certain of his current limitations, his lack of youki foremost, made that familiar strategy unfeasible. He debated attempting to run as they lifted their hoops and advanced. His phenomenal speed had come mostly from his youki and his physical conditioning, both of which he was without, and he had no idea how fast these beings could travel. If he ran, things could get very uncomfortable, very rapidly. But if he didn't --
Damn. He might drag Kurama into it unintentionally.
He snarled his annoyance and took off, arrowing in the direction of the sun to make use of its light as a blinder. That was assuming those big eyes responded to normal light at all, but Hiei would use what means he had to get out of this predicament. If he could only reach the cover of the Ningenkai for long enough to lose them, he might yet be able to aid Yukina --
They were in front of him, hoops held high, and he instantly changed directions without even having to correct for inertia. It was, however, clearly futile; he acknowledged this even before the first hoop caught him around the astral neck, slamming him to a halt and causing him a great deal of pain in the process. The second one looped around his arms, the next his legs, and the last around his waist. He was snapped into immobility and helplessness in a single second.
Furious, he tested his bonds as the beings calmly began to tow him away. It felt much like his own Jagan tie curse, in its more powerful incarnations. The hoops, which had constricted around him, were flexible enough to avoid being excessively painful, and as expected were not within his power to sunder.
The Jagan pulsed an urgent blue. Hiei struggled anyway.
They were back within sight of Kurama, who was still eating; Hiei made a last-ditch effort to reach him.
Fox! Find Yukina!
And a gate opened, and the beings slid noiselessly through it, collapsing it behind them.
Okay, I'm aware I'm very mean to Hiei. And to Kurama. Bad things happen to them a lot. That, I'm afraid, probably won't change anytime soon. However, I don't intend for this to be all gloom and doom -- you'll see what I mean in the next few chapters.
I really enjoyed writing Yuusuke for this chapter, by the way. He's fun when he's petulant.
