Title: Idiot Beloved, C. 12, The Agony In The Garden
Author: JaganshiKenshin
Genre: Action/Adventure and more
Rating: T
Summary: Wherein Hiei meets his 'Genkai'
A/N: Author's Note: Another fairly long chapter comes with a warning
about strong and perhaps offensive language.
Hoping to update TWO chaps next week.
Disclaimers found in Ch. 1-3. Go look there.
Idiot Beloved Ch 12: The Agony in the Garden
by
Kenshin
Hiei was not nervous.
This was not like going into battle, where a case of nerves could
work in your favor, tuning your muscles to concert pitch, raising
your blood pressure, sharpening your reflexes, meaning the
difference between life and death.
Nothing to be afraid of, going to church. No one had swords in
church. People came in and knelt and mumbled nonsense and lined
up to eat wafers and left. He had seen this on television.
There would be no surprises.
Not nerves. But something giving a good imitation of nerves.
Of the mysteries of the Holy Trinity, Hiei had little trouble
wrapping his mind around such; was not his friend Minamino
Shuuichi, Kurama, and also Youko in one? As for virgin birth,
that's what Kourime did.
But there were troubling elements to theology nonetheless.
References to sacrifice, to redemption. Keh.
The others---Kuwabara, Urameshi, and Kurama; Genkai was nowhere
to be seen---stood in the firebird's room, spread out in a line,
and she was strolling up and down before them like a
general inspecting the troops. Finally she nodded. "School
uniforms will do just fine. In America, they wear flip-flops to
church, but don't let me catch any of you dressing like that!"
"Yes, ma'am!" Kuwabara snapped a salute.
Kurama gave her one of his easy laughs, studiously avoiding
Hiei's glance; it was only a day after the debacle in the tree.
"Flip-flops in weather like this?" Early spring could be quite
cool, even chilly. "How inappropriate."
She addressed all the boys. "You don't have to come with me.
It's sweet of you, but you don't."
Urameshi elbowed Kurama. "You kidding? It's worth it just to
see Hiei squirm."
"Out!" Hiei exploded. "Now!"
Kuwabara filed outside, followed by the others. Shay-san fell in
line behind them.
He plucked at her sleeve. "Not you, woman. Where are you
going?"
"Obeying my lord and master."
"What I'm wearing, it's okay?" He parted the lapels of the
borrowed coat concealing his katana---his own had not yet fully
recovered from the transoceanic flight.
"It's okay," she said absently, not looking at him, leaning into
the mirror, giving her hair another swipe with her fingers.
"Stop fussing," Hiei snapped. "You're fine."
"I'll stop if you will."
"I'm not doing anything."
"Yes, you are. You're pacing. Even when you stand still, you're
pacing. I told you, you don't have to do this."
"Urusai. If I say I do a thing, I do it."
She whirled, suddenly fierce. "Did you have to tell the others I
was---you know...?"
"Why not?" He blinked in confusion. "They'll find out as soon
as you start to swell up like watermelon."
"Because---oh, skip it. Just don't tell anyone else."
He shrugged. "Women and their quirks."
"Don't."
"All right." He sank into a chair.
Knotting a pale green scarf at her neck, she scowled into the
mirror, then pulled it off and tossed it aside. Turning to him,
those wide gumdrop eyes free of guile or malice, she said:
"Look, I don't know what your story is, but I know it's a bad
one. I figure you'll tell me when you tell me."
Hiei took a breath, let it out slowly. Now was no time to think
of his "story."
"Mine's bad enough," she continued, threading the handle of her
bag over one shoulder. "Me, I'm not just an orphan. I was thrown
overboard." She switched the bag to her other shoulder. "They
sailed me off the back porch like a dead Easter chick and never
had a blink of regret."
His head flicked up. Every nerve came to attention. Thrown
overboard. Thrown overboard. He would not react. He refused to
think of it.
Hiei could hear Kuwabara's grating laugh, and the sound of his
lumbering footsteps as he tussled with Urameshi.
He ran a tongue across dry lips. "Which means---?"
"My parents dumped me on a relative and then proceeded to drink
themselves to death."
"You said they died in car accident."
"They were tanked when it happened."
"Tanked?"
"Drunk. And I did some fool things growing up because they
didn't want me."
"What are you saying?"
"You're coming to church? Fine. Then use it. The Blessed
Mother's there for you whenever you need her."
He burst from the chair, trusting neither his voice nor his body.
"Finish your stupid fussing. I'll wait outside."
The Immaculate Heart church was all rugged stone on the outside,
like a fortress; Shay had said it was modeled along the lines of
an ancient cathedral in miniature, which Hiei had learned was
something one step above a church. What came after cathedral?
Basilica? Details could take the mind off anything.
The outside of the church was fine. But once Hiei stepped
inside---
The whole church seemed to sit up and take notice in a way he
didn't like, as if it was alive and sending daggers of light to
destroy this demonic interloper. He hunched his shoulders
against the light, but that didn't help.
Nor did the light seem to bother anyone else. The other boys
filed into a pew in the back of the church as if the light didn't
even exist.
But the firebird did not seat herself. She was walking away from
him!
"Where are you going?" The tone of panic Hiei heard in his voice
made his click his mouth shut.
She gave him a brief glance. "I have to go to confession before
I can receive the Sacrament of the Eucharist. You know that."
Turning, she disappeared into one of the little wooden booths
near the entrance.
Don't leave me here! Hiei pleaded in silence. He tensed to run.
The church was filling up, but he still had a chance.
No. Coward, she had called him on the plane, and, judging by his
behavior now, he would have to agree.
He slid into the pew, heard Kuwabara advising the others: "My
friend who goes to St. Thomas Aquinas school said to shut up and
do what everyone else does, especially kneeling."
"Kneeling?" griped Urameshi. "Oh, man."
"And don't eat the wafers," added Kuwabara.
"When in foreign territory, it's wise to know the laws of the
land." Kurama shot a veiled glance at Hiei. No doubt all this
was amusing the fox-boy no end.
And then a voice spoke in Hiei's head, a voice neither male nor
female. He barely managed not to leap up and draw his sword.
So here you are, it said.
And then music started. Hiei wondered if the voice had been an
illusion. A procession consisting of a robed man followed by
some robed children threaded its way up the center aisle.
At last, his firebird slid into the pew beside him, and Hiei
breathed out in relief. He had imagined her presence would make
this easier. It suddenly became degrees worse. Because here she
was, completely unaffected, while he---
The procession had reached the front of the church. Behind them,
on the wall, was the statue of that man being tortured on some
kind of wooden scaffolding.
Above that statue, a small round window, a sort of glass mosaic,
depicting a dove, light exploding from its wings.
Wings and light everywhere. Beating down upon Hiei in silent
waves, searing his skin. He clasped his hands. He unclasped
them. He broke into an icy sweat, trembling.
Urameshi, Kuwabara, Kurama---did they feel nothing of this?
His gaze flicked to the side, where one of the church officials
held a golden bowl filled with those tiny, forbidden wafers.
Light burst from the bowl and struck his eyes. He could not look
at it long. He could not look at anything. Shay-san, her face
tranquil, slid into line with people waiting to eat the wafers.
The lump in his throat threatened to choke him. His sword was
useless here. The dragon, the flame, the Jagan, nothing would
save him.
I will not cry, Hiei vowed; I never cry.
Of course you won't, said the breathless, bodiless voice. Hiei
flinched. So it was real---no illusion!
I won't let you, the voice continued. Not here. Don't look at
the dove or the cross. It will be all right. Look at the
missal. See the musical notes?
Obeying the bodiless voice, Hiei slid a book from the pocket on
the back of the pew, opened it to a random page. Black ovals,
white ovals, some with tails, some not, arrayed over a series of
parallel lines. The arrangement looked as if it meant something.
Like code. Like a map. Like a spell. Maybe if he brought all
his concentration to bear he could figure out the code before the
light from dove and cross destroyed him.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0
A ghostly blue light sifted across the floor. The miko knelt
alone in the room with its bank of windows, hands clasped to her
forehead, lips moving in a silent prayer.
In the doorway, the Serpent appeared. Slowly she raised her head
to him.
"I want something from you," he said.
"No!" Scrambling to her feet, she pushed past him, and darted
out of the room. He made no attempt to stop her.
"There's nowhere to run," he whispered.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0
Outside. Still alive.
Had it only been a single hour in the church? It seemed a week.
Hiei gave a shiver. The sunlight was thin and failed to warm
him. He refused to look up, refused to meet anyone's gaze, could
look at nothing but his feet on the sidewalk.
He could barely listen to the voices of his teammates.
"Ja, ne!" Urameshi's unflaggingly cheerful tones, as he parted
from them and his distinctive footsteps pattered across the
street.
"Hey, Urameshi---wait up!" Kuwabara, noisy and unafraid as
always, thundering after him.
"Well," purred Kurama. "Hiei is singularly un-moved by his first
visit to a ningen church."
"That's what you think," said Shay-san.
Hiei heard her moving away and followed, still seeing only his
feet that were somehow, miraculously, keeping him safely bound to
the earth.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0
On the glittering gypsum fields of White Sands, sunset threw long
fingers of bloody light across the land.
The creatures of the daytime, lizard and bird, mammal and insect,
slithered and flew and scurried for shelter, changing guard with
the creatures of the nighttime, who came crawling to search the
desert for the meager scraps of their existence.
High above, a creature of neither night nor day sat in his room
surrounded by a thin blue glow, facing a miko. Two of his toad-
servants stood to either side of her, pinioning her arms.
"Don't," she whispered. "Please." In the blue light her face
appeared skeletal.
"I have as much right to survive as you," the Serpent reminded
her.
"Not like this!" she cried. "Not by feeding off others!"
"Why not? You feed off death yourself. You consume the flesh of
dead animals."
"John won't like this." There was a faint warning tone in the
miko's voice.
"John isn't present to object," the Serpent informed her. "I
imagine he's hiding somewhere." He rose. A single strand of his
long white braid loosed itself; he clasped its end between thumb
and forefinger and stepped closer to the miko. "Well?"
She shook her head violently.
"If you refuse to tell me, there are other ways."
"No!" She thrashed against the toad-faced creatures who held
her. They adjusted their grip.
"He'll stop you! That demon! He and his friends!"
"I doubt it. I've already spread the seeds of dissent among
them---they'll be at each other's throats soon enough."
"I won't tell you." The miko's lips drew back. "You can't force
me to tell you."
"Fool." Holding the live end of the hair like a jeweler about to
thread pearls, White Sands Serpent slid it between the miko's
eyes, feeding it into the depths of her memory, where defenses
are useless.
She screamed.
And on the other side of the world, a demon with black-flame hair
stood across the street from a church, frozen in fear.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0
It looked like rain. Like the sky was about to burst into cold
tears.
Hiei could not even glance at the church, but he had to.
Ignoring the curious stares of passersby, he thought:
I can't go into that white fire again. Sooner or later in its
presence I will do something that will give me away, and then---
No. He had set his feet upon this path, and there was no going
back. "When I say I do a thing, I do it. Keh!" Jamming both
hands in his pockets, Hiei bolted across the street into the
church.
Shay-san had told him to ask for Father Brian McCormick. There
was only one person visible at the moment: a ningen female
lighting candles at a corner altar. She pointed past Hiei and he
turned to see the approach of a man in clerical garb.
"That's him," the woman said, and went back to lighting candles.
Swallowing hard, Hiei awaited the priest.
This was a man of middle years, bulky of chest and shoulder,
hands scarred with work, gray hair cropped short, the hairline
receding a bit. As Father Brian reached his side, Hiei realized
the priest was not much taller than himself. But the sparks
gathered in those snapping black eyes indicated Father Brian
would make a bad enemy; he burned with just a touch of that
merciless light.
"So you've come to talk to me about the RCIA program, have you?"
Walking rapidly, Father Brian waved Hiei to fall into step with
him. "Weekly meetings Sunday mornings followed by attendance at
Mass, starting in September. Do your homework and you'll be
ready for your first Communion this time next year."
"Can't wait that long," Hiei replied as they entered a hallway.
"I have a week. Wedding ceremony, too. Also a week." They
pattered down a short flight of steps and turned a corner into a
white corridor.
The priest flicked a glance at Hiei. "My, my, in a hurry, are
we? An' what's the big rush, then?"
The lilt in his voice was something Hiei had heard before, on
some other television program, about the Emerald Isle. "English-
speaking priest in Japan. Unusual."
"We go where they send us. Besides, this parish does serve a lot
of English-speakers."
"You miss Ireland?"
The priest snorted. "Shows what you know, you dumb little shit.
I'm American---right out of Boston."
Hiei almost broke stride. "My wife's American. That explains
your mouth."
"It's true." Father Brian sighed, casting a glance upward. "Me
poor sainted mother tried washing it out with soap on a regular
basis."
"Too bad it didn't take."
In the long white corridor, the priest stopped a moment to raise
an eyebrow at Hiei. "Wife, you said? So why in Holy Hell would
you want me for the ceremony if she's already---"
"There wasn't proper ceremony. Not yet."
Sighing, Father Brian led Hiei toward a door at the end of the
corridor. "Saints preserve us. One of those write-your-own vows
hippie types, are we?"
"My wife talks in code just like you." Hiei rolled his eyes.
"Must be American thing."
"Ahh!" The priest brightened. "It all falls together now! She
was that little colleen come in with you and your gang of thieves
and brigands."
Hiei nodded. "She said ask for Father Brian, no one else."
"Then she must think highly of you indeed. I'm the resident holy
terror. Took her confession an' all. Let me tell you, boy---she
deserves far better than to be saddled with some surly, half-
assed delinquent."
"You're hardly what I expected in a man of the cloth."
"And what did you expect? Some doddering wisp of an old geezer
who'd be scared of the likes of you?"
"Ch."
"Never been to this kind of church before, have you?"
"Never been to any kind."
"Why now?"
"I told w---told Shay-san I would. When I say I will do a thing,
I do it."
Father Brian opened a dark wooden door, lying stark against the
white walls, then stood aside to let Hiei in.
There was the sound of faraway heels clicking on wooden floors.
The faint scent of incense.
With a deep breath, Hiei walked into a small office crowded with
file cabinets, with a cluttered steel desk wedged into the
corner. Paintings of a religious nature nearly hid the
whitewashed walls.
Father Brian shut the door and stood gazing steadily at Hiei with
those dangerous black eyes. Then he smiled.
"Relax, son. I know you're not human."
The priest shoved a chair at him just in time. Gaping up at
Father Brian, Hiei whispered, "You know---how?"
"An' did you think Japan's the only place in the world important
enough to have demons?" Father Brian squeezed past him and sat
behind his desk. "I didn't celebrate Mass yesterday ---Father
Tenryou did---but I could feel you from all over the church."
The priest slid open a desk draw and pulled out a small, flat
bottle. "You look a little pale. Care for a drink?"
"Liquor?" Hiei's eyes widened. "At this hour?"
"Ah, well." Casting a somewhat mournful glance at the whiskey,
Father Brian replaced it in the drawer. "At least you're still
capable of shock. And I never drink alone."
Astonishment, outrage and relief battled inside Hiei. The
simple act of putting the next foot forward won. "What now?"
"What now is would you mind telling me what in the Holy Hell
you've got underneath that girly headband of yours? It's giving
me a migraine."
"It's called the Jagan." In the briefest possible terms Hiei
went on to explain the origin of his third eye. He didn't want
to stay a minute longer than necessary; some of the paintings
were aiming blades of light at him, and it hurt.
"Ah, that's a new one on me. And the faggoty black glove?"
"It's a ward---a check. Binds one of my attacks. Makes it safe
to walk streets. The Kokuryuuha---"
"Enough, enough. Japanese is such a miserable gawdawful
language, isn't it?"
"How soon can you do this? I've read your Bible. Twice. I know
everything in it."
Father sat back and skewered him with a cool, appraising stare.
"You may have read it. I daresay you may even be able to quote
me chapter and verse. But you don't know it, you arrogant little
turd. That takes a lifetime." Changing tactics as easily as
Hiei wielded a sword, the priest beamed, adding, "Still, glory be
to the Father, bringing me your heathen soul an' all."
"You're happy? I thought that your kind was set against my
kind---"
"Y'know, you truly are a piece of work. As if you were that kind
of demon---that kind's not even on the physical plane. Did you
know all demons were once angels? Fallen angels."
Fallen. Falling. The world was beating him about the head with
the term. It took all Hiei's control to keep still.
"You now," the priest continued, "you're more like some punk kid
with fairy magic."
"Fairy magic? I'll show you fairy magic."
"Yeah, you and every other pissant bad-boy wannabe. You're all
exactly alike; tough on the outside, crying on the inside for
Mommy and Daddy to love you, and your middle name's Death Wish.
Show me something new under the sun."
"I could show you the Black Dragon Flame---"
"You have a physical body." Father Brian reached into a cup
filled with pencils and other flotsam and lifted out a pair of
scissors. "I assume if I stuck this into your arm you'd bleed."
Hiei shrugged. "If you got past my guard."
"Well, la di da!" Father replaced the scissors. "Aren't we the
little fancy pants fighter. Don't be so full of yourself, kid. I
was a Golden Gloves welterweight."
"Then you know fighting. Try stabbing me. I urge you."
Father Brian was quick. He had a good reach and better reflexes.
It was just that the scissors were no longer there.
Grinning, Hiei held them up. "Not very sharp, anyway."
"Holy---!" Father's black eyes widened. "And I never saw you
take them. By God, I'd like to see you fight some day!"
"Be careful what you wish for."
"Aimless power." Laughing, Father Brian shook his head. "I've
seen it all before. If you ever drop that tough-as-nails
posturing, you might have the energy to strengthen your offense."
At last! Fighting---talk of something worthwhile.
But the priest changed subjects. "Now, quick," he continued.
"Tell me one good things about yourself."
"I would die to protect my family."
The black eyes sparkled. "Well. That's a start."
Restless, Hiei scanned the walls for the picture he wanted, then
went to that painting. "I sense things, too. This."
The painting depicted an angel, the one whose motif was the
sword. The angel looked like a strapping young man who would
enjoy his battles, the sword quite different from Hiei's katana,
but appearing wonderfully lethal nonetheless. "That one, the
name is difficult for me---"
"St. Michael, the Archangel."
"Yes. That one and me. We're born fighters."
"And there are fights ahead, son." The priest sighed. "Make no
mistake. Sword calls to sword, and I think this sword has been
calling to you for some time."
Hiei traced the outline of the terrible wings, feeling their
light against his skin like razors. "Do you get used to it?"
"To what?"
"The pain. From this light."
At the priest's gasp, Hiei turned.
Father Brian was staring up at him, tears glittering the corners
of his eyes. "You can see it?"
"See what?"
"The light." Father Brian's hands shook as he clasped them on
the desk.
Bewildered by the reaction, Hiei left the picture and sat again,
facing the priest. "Can't you?"
"Not one in a thousand is capable---I've always wished for that
ability." Father Brian got a crumpled tissue from his pocket and
dabbed his eyes. "This is no accident. You were meant to be
here."
"I don't know about accidents or meaning. That swordsman in the
picture, he fights, yes? Demons. More oni---maybe even
something better. My sword will rust for lack of blood."
Father Brian's face smoothed into a look of ineffible sadness.
As Hiei sat waiting, he heard the rustle of someone passing in
the hall, and farther away, the main doors opening.
They matched gaze for gaze, demon and priest, neither one
flinching. At last the priest spoke again, in a soft, cracked
voice: "Not all battles take place on the outside."
The awful light made Hiei tired. Tired meant weak. His throat
ached with that same lump he'd felt yesterday. He lowered his
head for a moment, contemplating his swordsman's hands. "Battle
is battle," he said at last.
Father sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You said
something about a wedding."
"And you said I don't deserve her." Hiei glanced up. "Maybe
true. Don't deserve a lot of things, but---"
"Kid, let me give you one piece of priceless wisdom about the
Prince of Lies. He doesn't want you to have her. He doesn't
want you to have those puffed-up hoodlums you call your friends
either. I can tell they're good boys at the core, but he doesn't
want you having friends of any kind. He'll use every kind of
trick to keep you from what's rightfully yours."
The awful burn of light and wings was pushing Hiei's endurance.
"How fast can you do this?"
"Well." Father Brian scratched at his close-cropped head. "Like
I said, normally the Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults
takes a year. The wedding, not quite that long, but---"
"I have a week."
"And I know why. Don't worry, son. It's a common enough
occurrence among young people these days. Baptism will wash away
that particular sin, along with all your others. Technically,
you should have waited---"
"I'm waiting now."
"Blessings on you, anyway, for not abandoning the little
colleen."
"You got it wrong way around. I'm surprised she doesn't run from
me."
The priest opened a file box on his desk and flipped through it.
"You're one of Koenma's?"
Hiei nodded. "You know him, then."
"That eager to get away from him?"
"Preferably while he's still on vacation."
Father Brian waved a dismissive hand. "Don't worry. Ordinarily,
I'd send you through normal channels. But the fact that you can
see the light, and that it hurts you, and still you came to
me---this tells me you're a good gamble. I'll put in a call to
Rome and speed things along. It's been something like a century
or a millennium since one of your kind worked for them. Kiddo,
they'll absolutely love getting you."
"So in a week everything will be ready?"
The priest nodded. "But there's a catch."
Hiei lifted his lip. "Of course."
"There's a price to pay for all this."
"I didn't bring money. Right now I don't have any, but---"
"Little pissant. If only it was money." Father Brian leaned
back in his chair, gazing at one of the paintings, a graceful
woman with melting eyes and twelve silver stars around her
head---the one Shay-san had called the Blessed Mother. "If you
go through with all of this, you will no longer be under Koenma's
control."
The metal chair was becoming uncomfortable. Hiei gave a wriggle.
"That's the whole point."
"With baptism and forgiveness comes a heavy burden. Your sword
will be at the service of Rome."
"So long as I get to use it."
The priest hesitated. "And there's one more thing you should
know."
"There always is."
"If you accept this, you will be judged by a different set of
rules than Koenma's. When you die, you die."
Hiei looked at the priest in some surprise. Such a thing had not
occurred to him. Then he glanced at the painting, at the woman
with the sorrowful eyes. Something about her reminded him of his
firebird. "Shay-san didn't tell me this."
"Of course not. She doesn't know. She's a lay person---not a
church official."
Hiei sat, counting his breaths. That particular part of the deal
was something he had not bargained on.
But. You wanted to get away from Koenma, he thought; You were
whining to Kurama like a schoolgirl. And this fighting priest
echoed Kurama's own words as you left for America:
("Do you really want to get away from Koenma that badly?" Kurama
folding his arms, tilting his head, the arch, amused voice
irritating, slightly mocking.)
No, Kitsune, Hiei thought. I don't want to get away from Koenma
that badly. I want to get to her. That badly, and more.
He looked up at the priest. "So 'little colleen' doesn't know.
Fine. And we keep it that way."
"Be very sure. Isn't easy, being the Sword of Heaven."
"Ch. I fight, therefore I am."
"My, my, my, aren't we the tough case. Aren't we the wicked one.
So wicked you had the Jagan installed to look for your lost
sister. Went through the pain of surgery just to watch over her
from afar." Father Brian got up, came around the desk, tried to
put a hand on Hiei's shoulder, but Hiei shied away, meeting those
dangerous black eyes again, and his throat tightened.
"Little changeling, little child of faery," said the priest.
"How unremittingly evil of you."
It was over. Finished. Done. Priest one, demon nothing.
The tension that had been building all week burst like a dam.
With a shaking hand to his face, he gave one short, jagged sob.
It was a lapse of only an instant before he stamped down on his
weakness.
And sat staring at two perfect, moonglow orbs in his palm.
Father Brian bent over his shoulder. "Well, now. And what might
these be?"
It was a long time before Hiei could answer, and his voice
sounded faint and far away. "They're called teargems. But I
always imagined mine would come out black."
-30-
(To be continued next week)