Please read Disclaimer in Prelude.
Title: Firebird Sweet C24: Rose and Dragon
Author: JaganshiKenshin
Genre: Action/Adventure, Humor, and Beyond
Rating: T
Summary: What should have been a happy occasion turns into a threat.
A/N: I invite you over to my LJ homepagey, where my accompanying sketches are up. This is probably one of the shortest chapters I've ever posted; in fact I might update twice this week! As always, I thank you for reading this, and really appreciate your reviews.
"If you ever do that again---"
Firebird Sweet C24: Only In America (part four, Rose and Dragon)
by
Kenshin
Kurama, it turned out, had no further opportunity to corral Hiei.
Wobbly from Dr. Cahill's meds but ferociously game, Shay-san insisted on performing with the band that very night, and it took the whole group's concentration and vigilance to keep her from tumbling off the stage. Each time Shay-san flung out her arms in one of her extravagant gestures, she overbalanced, teetering dangerously close to the edge.
Whereupon Hiei or Kuwabara or Kurama or Yuusuke caught her, making it seem like part of the act.
All the way home from the club, Hiei ragged her about it, then the two of them disappeared to their quarters.
Sighing, Kurama retired to his own room to think, away from the boisterous trio of Yuusuke, Kuwabara and Mary.
He had something to share with Hiei, and it had to be accomplished in a way that spoke of ceremony, of triumph. It must not be blurted in passing. And what fun it would be, watching Hiei struggle to mask his amazement.
But how to get the fire demon alone?
At last, Kurama resorted to the simple ruse of slipping a note under Hiei's door.
0-0-0-0-0
Yukawa Kenji and Ibuki were laughing as they left Club Aoyama. Lermontov wasn't scowling. That, thought Kenji, was a plus.
The three of them had developed an unlikely friendship, fostered in part by their involvement with Romantic Soldier.
The night was thick with fog. "I can't even see my hand in front of my face!" Ibuki slid a pink compact from her purse, then clicked it open to check her angelic features. "They carded me," she squealed in delight. "Can you believe it?"
"You look perfect," intoned Lermontov, who was visible only as a hulking shadow in the fog. "Stop fussing with face."
Yukawa Kenji agreed. Ibuki did indeed look perfect, with that candy-floss hair and those enormous aquamarine eyes. Some day soon, he would tell her. But all he said was, "We're likely to get lost in this pea soup."
It was true; fog now fell in thick, slimy veils across them as they walked away from the jazz club. The air was cold to the touch, and more than a bit eerie. They could barely see one another. Their muffled footsteps on the sidewalk seemed ghostly.
"Is almost like London," agreed Lermontov.
"London has lots of cabs, right?" Ibuki's voice squeaked close to Kenji's ear; he felt her grope for his elbow.
"Maybe we can find one," he assured her. But the streets were deserted at this late hour---until something stirred ahead.
He stopped, Ibuki's hand still on his arm. Lermontov's footsteps stopped, too.
Kenji heard a faint scrape of sound.
The fog stroked his brow, covering him with inexplicable gooseflesh. Lermontov uttered a curse in Russian. At his side, Ibuki tightened her grip and whimpered. And Yukawa Kenji, who had never before in his life been possessed of a sixth sense, knew doom awaited. Gently disengaging Ibuki's hand from his arm, he whispered to her: "Run!"
And from somewhere up ahead came the slow, purposeful footsteps, and the faint outline of an approaching body, much too large to be human.
0-0-0-0-0
"It was you! You did it!"
Hiei's shout cut through darkness as he plummeted from the lip of the Kourime world. High above him, the Stranger leaned over, receding with each moment, his long black hair billowing away from pale, handsome features, turquoise eyes wide and calm.
The Stranger's lips parted. For the first time, he called Hiei's name, in a low, fluting voice.
"It was you," Hiei repeated, and the earth rushed up to meet him, and smashed him to bits.
0-0-0-0-0
Hiei's eyes jerked open. He had not dreamed of the Stranger in some time.
Heart pounding, he sat up.
The sky outside their window was lightening to gray. Beside him, Shay-san lay wreathed in blankets. He needed the sight of her ribcage rising and falling to assure himself she was hard asleep, nothing worse.
Over in the corner, the twins stirred to wakefulness.
Slowly mastering his panic, Hiei considered the upcoming days. They had one more set---their farewell set at the Vista Room that night, followed the next day by a last rehearsal and shooting of their video for a client of Paul Kidd's. Then home.
As silently as possible, Hiei went to get the twins. But a folded piece of paper lying near the door caught his eye. Sticking it between his teeth, he took the note, the twins, and himself into the adjacent bath to get ready for the day.
When they emerged, Shay-san was still asleep, the fire-colored hair in disarray, the pink mouth slightly open, the eyes tight shut.
Could she hear his thoughts? He'd always been able to sense when she was in danger, but since the twins were born, sometimes he seemed to 'hear' her thinking. She must have worked hard to keep him from sensing her pain and subsequent collapse.
Let the poor thing rest.
Kurama's note had read: 'Meet me near the lake at your earliest convenience.' Quietly packing the twins into their stroller, Hiei addressed them in a stage whisper: "How about some fresh air? Hm? Then we can see what Kurama's up to."
0-0-0-0-0
The woods surrounding the Kidd lake provided deep cover, and, with dawn just breaking, as much privacy as Kurama could ask for. The fresh, cool breeze brought not only the scent of nearby water, but silverweed and horse chestnut and St. John's Wort---all plants he could now use.
The knowledge filled him to bursting, sent his blood racing. So diligently had he suppressed his feelings over Youko's loss that joy now bubbled up from an unstoppable wellspring. And soon he would have someone to share it with.
Kurama caught sight of Hiei as the fire demon rounded a corner, dressed in gray sweats that looked as if he had sawed off the sleeves with his katana. Feeling a great surge of affection, Kurama could not suppress a grin. Some things never changed.
Others had, as he couldn't wait to demonstrate.
Hiei strolled forward through dense undergrowth that crowded either side of the path. Kurama reached into his hair and withdrew a rosebud, fresh from Carmel Kidd's conservatory.
"Think fast!" he cried, loosing his Rose Whip. It sang in a graceful arc toward the fire demon.
Hiei would dodge it, silent with shock. And then he would come to congratulate Kurama.
And Hiei's head snapped up, the crimson eyes indeed wide with shock. But it was only then that Kurama realized Hiei was not alone.
Too late, Kurama saw the twins in the stroller; he had not sensed them, and the thick undergrowth had hidden them from view.
Horrified, Kurama flicked his wrist, struggled to call back his attack, but his newly-returned powers were still raw. The Rose Whip jerked once, then soared with renewed velocity toward Hiei and the babies.
Without seeming to move, Hiei put his body between the Whip and the twins, flinging up his ward-arm as a shield. The Rose Whip completed its arc, struck flesh. The thorns scored a red slash across Hiei's hand and wrist.
Kurama gasped. The Whip fell from his nerveless fingers. For a moment, nothing at all happened.
Then, taking exquisite care, Hiei lifted the stroller and carried it, twins and all, to the shelter of a rhododendron bush. The soft, reassuring murmur of his voice carried to Kurama's ears, though he could not tell what Hiei was saying.
Hiei! Are you all right? Are the twins---
Straightening, Hiei turned, and walked toward Kurama. His face was devoid of expression.
Hiei, I'm sorry! I had no idea they were with you! But the words never left Kurama's lips.
Neither did Hiei make a sound as he approached. Kurama inched back before the fire demon, giving ground, but still Hiei came on, in no apparent hurry.
When he was face-to-face with Kurama, Hiei raised his Dragon arm and peeled back the bloodstained gauntlet.
Hiei, please! I didn't know!
The Dragon arm was bare. And the Dragon---
The Dragon moved.
Kurama held his breath. The Dragon was looking at him!
Through a haze of shock, Kurama studied it. No longer resembling a mere tattoo, the Black Dragon turned its long, vicious head in a glare from eyes of molten gold. Steam floated from its nostrils to escape into the air. Twined on Hiei's arm, its tiny black scales, as distinct as those of koi, gave off a red-gold glitter at their edges. Not quite three-dimensional, it yet had the look of something alive.
If Hiei's arm was a movie screen, then Kurama could have lulled himself into believing this was a special effect. But he knew with dread certainty this was no illusion.
Kurama struggled to apologize, to explain, but his tongue clove to the roof of his mouth.
When Hiei spoke in his soft lazy purr, with no more inflection than if he were giving a weather report, every hair on Kurama's scalp rose.
"If you ever come near my kids again," said Hiei, "you're dead."
Warding the Dragon, Hiei turned his back on Kurama. He made his leisurely way down the path. Reaching the rhododendron bush, he plucked the stroller from the bushes, sheltering it in his arms, murmuring more assurances. He went on his way, rounded a curve and was soon out of sight.
Kurama's legs trembled. Falling to his knees, he stared at the Rose Whip, lying in a serpentine before him, with Hiei's blood on the ground like a blossom.
(To be continued: the consequences of action)
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