Oh boy, this one was tough. It is Saturday night, pretty late I know. I've honestly been struggling to find time to edit this, and I decided halfway through editing that I wanted to take the chapter in a completely new direction. That tends to happen... a lot.

So, I happen to work in one of the few places that hasn't been shut down in my state (due to coronavirus), and it is a shipping station. People need their mail and boxes and junk, so we get to work, and we get longer hours. Pair that with the increasing responsibilities of adult life and the fact that I can't settle on a direction for the chapter I want to write... Well, you get the picture. Anyways, this one is up, and the next is on the way!

On with the "sho."


I'm alright,
Living in the shadows in the night,
Always searching, looking for the light,
Anything to understand this life.
Need someone who could hold me down.
Feel buried in the ground.
If I could just be found...
I don't know why I'm down.
And I've been feeling spiteful.
Everything has got me in denial.
Put me on trial.
Waves of emotion like a tidal.

- Primal - NEFFEX

In My Element, There are Still Surprises

Botan provided flashlights, the range of which was quite superior to anything the human world had to offer. With these, I would see the stains of browning red on the concrete, and the obvious signs of struggle. Several containers and machines had been knocked over, their functions and purposes unknown to me. Dairy farms were not among those things which I studied.

Kazuma visibly cringed when the light fell on the blood, taking a step back in his disgusted horror.

"Oh man, something really bad happened here! Ru-Ru, we shouldn't be here," he turned to me with pleading eyes, and I gave him a cold stare.

"You should have thought of that before you decided to tag along. Did you imagine this was going to be child's play?" I asked him, and his grimace changed to a heated scowl.

"I thought we'd be fighting evil monsters, not looking for bodies," He argued as Botan went to investigate the large metal door leading into the animal's containment area. She glanced back at me, our earlier spat put on the back burner for now.

"The doors aren't even locked," she told me, and I walked around my brother, gesturing for him to follow. Together, the three of us pulled open the heavy sliding doors, releasing from inside a stench that was more than just waste. I raised my collar over my nose and mouth like the other two, squinting as though the smell would rot my eyes out from the inside if I allowed too much contact. As one, we entered onto the scene.

The sound was deafening. Moans and cries echoed in the enclosed space, a cacophony of grief and terror that gripped my steady heart with the sharp sting of sympathy. Intermingled with the hopeless aria of despair was a miniscule melody of lamentation, a singular voice that steadily rose above the rest in a scream of warning.

Carnage was a word that found new meaning.

As I looked past the rows of terrified bovines that faced the center of the room, I could see the source of that abominable smell. Three piles of viscera, far too large to be human, rested in various positions down the line. Their shapes inverted with enormous rib cages splayed open like crimson anemones to the open air. Dark, viscous blood stained the cement floor and the hay that rested on top a deep red, coagulating in black beads where it had dripped to drying.

The only part of the cows that remained recognizable were the heads, long tongues lolling and eyes blown wide in sightless agony where they rested just above the blossoming corpse. The skin of the necks was opened, cords of muscle snapped and ravaged to expose a shock of white bone.

At first I thought the legs were missing, but they were curled around at a horrific angle under the rest of the bodies. Organs lay scattered, ripped forcibly from their homes and discarded like candy around a fallen piñata. Muscle and sinew was ripped to ribbons. Flesh hung off red meat like an ill-fitting leather jacket, the black and red pattern now a gruesome parody of skin and hair.

There was movement in my periphery. Kazuma backed away, swaying before doubling over and losing the contents of his stomach violently on the ground by the door. Botan, to her credit, did no such thing. She stood stock still, staring at the butchery with her hands covering nearly the entirety of her face.

They would be useless now.

I took a step forward, my hand still protecting my orifices from the smell. My throat closed for a moment as I stared into the empty gaze of the nearest carcass, and I could not force my legs to move any closer. It captured me in a state like a dream. I half expected the blood to come rushing to me in a tidal wave, drowning my inert body as was now normal in my own dreams.

Around me crashed the swelling, turning tide of emotion projected from the animals still locked in place. Their calls tore my heart asunder with the intensity of their grief. They had all borne witness to the slaughter. They all knew it was what would eventually happen to them. They were simply waiting, standing in their own waste, living their last moments without a shred of dignity. That stabbing anguish which echoed in their voiced was what gave me the fortitude to keep going.

One step closer, and another, I waded through blood-soaked hay. I could see the white of the ribs now, tendons or bone I couldn't be sure, and I hesitated only a moment before moving on. The next body was no less mutilated than the first. The third, however, was somehow worse.

It was fresh.

The blood still wet and seeping from severed arteries flowed in a steady stream over the floor, spreading quickly from cracked concrete to dull yellow straw. The parts strewn about the floor still shone with slick, nerves still causing certain areas of the blood flower to twitch and jerk, clinging to life, not knowing the effort was futile.

Why did I feel so cold?

I turned away then, facing the other two. They had not yet dared to move further in, and I could not find it in myself to scorn them. Least of all Kazuma, though his manic expression as he gazed wide-eyed at me was certainly unnerving.

"Forget this! We gotta get out of here, it's too dangerous," he said a little too loudly, his voice shaking from the trembling of his body. His fear, however, was nothing in comparison to that of the animals who, upon hearing his loud voice, proceeded to scream in rising chorus. "Ru-Ru, come on! There's gotta be someone else who deals with messed up stuff like this!"

I blinked, staring at him for a moment, then looked down at one of the lurid corpses.

My feet took me forward, back to my brother and the Spirit, who seemed to have recovered somewhat from the shock. Kazuma looked relieved, reaching out to grab me with a large, meaty hand, but I stopped just out of his reach. I tilted my head up, watching his eyes cloud over with confusion, even amidst the horror.

"I am the one who deals with things like this," I told him, keeping my gaze focused on his. "I have a job to do here. You do not. You can leave, or you can accept that this is my life now, and help me. Either way, I'm not leaving this case until it's dealt with."

A pained expression crossed his face, his shoulders falling and his hands reaching, pleading.

"Why does it have to be you?" He questioned desperately, then rounded on Botan with a surprising anger. "Why'd you people have to go and drag my sister into this sicko stuff, huh!? It's not right!"

The woman took a step back, hands extended defensively, though Kazuma would never attack her bodily as Yusuke might.

Yusuke… I was glad he wasn't here to see this.

"I'm sorry Kuwabara," Botan stuttered out, and she seemed to mean what she said. "Someone has to protect the human world, and your sister is more than qualified. She can handle things like this."

He bared his teeth in a snarl.

"Oh, like how she can handle that thing inside her?"

My breath caught in my throat.

~"Abilities like this are not necessarily unheard of," the aged woman told me as we sat in the dimly lit bedroom. Calm brown eyes regarded me with a calculating intensity. "However, they're quite the rarity in humans outside specific bloodlines. Even then, those families are related to demons some way or another."

"What can you tell me about these families?" I leaned forward in anticipation, but Genkai only frowned.

"Nothing that would be useful to you. They all died out."

That was disappointing, but perhaps Spirit World had records of them. I could ask… or I could wait. At the moment, waiting seemed to be the most appropriate course of action. Watching, listening, looking for their slip-ups and mistakes to take advantage of, not tip my hand too early. There was no telling what they would do if I started digging around so soon after this latest episode.

"Genkai," I began after a moment of silent consideration. "Is it possible for a human to reincarnate on their own? Without the authorization of Spirit World?"

She gave a nod in the negative.

"Humans are of a particular nature. Our souls have a set path they are programmed to follow, though exceptions do occur, hence how ghosts remain trapped in place by their emotions. We don't retain the same cognitive abilities as spirits that he had as humans."

Her answer, remarkably technical for someone of both her age and life choices, was less than comforting. If what she said was true…

"I don't need you to tell me where your mind is, I can see you thinking," the old woman asserted, and my eyes flashed briefly back up to her. She gave me a squinty look. "That thing that took over your body today was no demon, and it didn't come from outside."

I felt my heart grow still for a moment.

"One moment, it was you in your body. The next…" she paused, then straightened her back as though to ready herself for a verbal attack. "That being came from inside."

I continued to stare for a moment, waiting for her to continue. She did not.

"I know," I finally said, and her eyes flew open wide. "A medical examiner in Spirit World has already informed me that there is… something extraneous within my spirit." Obstruction of the soul was perhaps too much information to give. "I have known for some time now that this anomaly is a being of sorts, though I have not understood the nature of her existence."

"Spirit World knows about this?" she seethed, her expression just short of livid. I nodded.

"I believe they do, however I did not learn about her sentient status from them. I made the discovery during a previous case. Initially, I became their detective under the promise that the anomaly could be removed. I needed only to strengthen my spirit energy."

A sort of furious confusion overtook the shadows that danced over her face, and she leaned forward further away from the candle by the wall.

"And rather than take my training to help control this monster, you gave it up to that dimwit because you thought he deserved it." The accusatory tone rang clear, and I flinched only slightly.

"I decided that I could handle the information gathering on my own. And perhaps, I could communicate with this woman."

She stood very suddenly, and I jerked back into a crouch.

"Whatever this is, it cannot be reasoned with," she hissed in a low tone. "You're young, it's only natural you would be so optimistic. You didn't see what I saw in your eyes when She took over."

I tilted my head curiously, allowing the old woman to speak her mind. The intensity of her stare kept me pinned to the floor, her towering authority sending me into a state of submission. She was power, ancient and unbridled. She was wisdom, logic and reasoning that would stand the test of time no matter how many years passed.

I stood no chance against her, in any capacity

"This thing, whoever it may be, cannot be allowed control. It will consume and destroy, and do it all without a shred of remorse."

"So you were possessed?" Kazuma asked as we made our way home, taking the endless flight of stairs away from the temple, away from Genkai and her imposing authority, away from the comfort of the dark forest.

Away from Yusuke.

"In a sense," I replied, thinking carefully about how to word this in a way he would understand. "Imagine that there is something latched onto my soul. It is its own personality, has its own will, but it has no control over my body. Except, obviously, under certain conditions."

He nodded, frowning as he thought.

"Okay, so what do we do?" I sighed at his question, giving a noncommittal shrug.

"Nothing, as of yet." He looked outraged.

"What!? What do you mean, there's gotta be something we can do to get rid of it!" He stopped walking, arms spread in exaggerated aggravation. They flailed wildly as he spoke, necessitating a quick dodge on my part.

"What are we gonna do, just let whatever it is stay there like a- a leech or something?"

"I am currently taking steps to counteract the presence," I reassured him, though he did not appear satisfied. "I'm trying to fix this."

His look softened, but only enough to let me know his ire was not directed at me.

"And what about those people Botan works for? What are they doing about it?"

I blinked.

"They gave me work. There's nothing else they can do."~

"She told me all about it," Kazuma seethed (incorrectly), still looking at Botan with a furious glare. "She told me your boss isn't doing anything to fix it!" Of course, he would take it that way. His selective memory was irritating at times, and convenient all at once.

Botan took a hesitant step towards my brother, her eyes shining.

"Kuwabara, that's not true! We are helping her, it's just going to take time-"

"Making her see stuff like this isn't helping," he retorted, pointing at the macabre scene behind me. "It messed her up before, and it's only gonna get worse!"

"Enough."

Both of them jolted, turning to look at me with mixed curiosity and indignance. Botan, on her part, seemed a little grateful if the sigh of relief was any indication. Kazuma, however, looked close to exploding.

"Kazuma, your anger on my behalf isn't unwarranted. It is, however, extremely unhelpful." Hurt flashed across his face, and I continued even when he opened his mouth to offer some counter. "This is not the time for you to question my decisions or those of Spirit World. I have told you once, either leave or help me. Don't argue, don't ask questions. Make a choice and act, or you're useless to me."

Emotion flickered briefly over his features, twisting and contorting in predictable ways. Disbelief, anger, a righteous indignation that was loud and bold as it lit up his eyes. I watched, curious to see if my hypothesis would be proven correct. His feelings warred with each other, attention divided between myself, Botan, and the carnage around us.

Even the cows had gone silent.

Finally, his resolve hardened, and it was with a sinking feeling I realized that my theory had just been validated. Truly, the only way I could get through to him was by putting distance between us. Dealing tough love, as Shizuru often put it.

"Fine," he ground out. "I don't like it, and I still think we shouldn't be here, but… I'll stay."

"It doesn't matter if you stay, it matters if you're useful."

He recoiled as though stung. I ignored the twinge of regret and turned to Botan, my mind focusing on the mission at hand.

"From what I can tell, various organs were harvested. Notably the heart, liver and pieces of the spine." She grimaced, her face blanching even further. For all I knew, she was wearing geisha powder. For a shinigami, she was quite incompetent when death was concerned. I gave a subtle shake of my head, putting my annoyance aside for now.

"Sweep the immediate area. I want to know the moment anything approaches." As I spoke, I took the rune book and pen from my pocket, tossing them both to her. She fumbled as the caught them, clutching the tools awkwardly against her chest. "Use the rune combinations on the second page of my notes and mark each of the walls. Copy them exactly."

She gave a hurried nod, flipping to the page I indicated.

"What will that do?" she asked, and I turned away to approach one of the tethered animals.

"The extraneous markings combine individual runes into a complex spell. This particular spell is an alarm system. If anything with a demonic signature should so much as touch the energy barrier, we will know."

"That's very clever," she exclaimed, and I raised a brow at her over my shoulder.

"That's how the runes work. Did you even read the book before you gave it to me?"

She gave a small, nervous titter. I rolled my eyes. I had stopped before one of the large herbivores, and I could now see up close how blood-shot the eyes were, how tired the thing looked. Any hay that had been here before had already been eaten, a clear half-circle of concrete indicating where the cow's reach ended.

"What are you gonna do?" Kazuma approached from behind. I reached up slowly, letting the heifer track my movements. She gave no indication of panic, instead lifting her nose up to meet my palm gently. A quiet snort escaped her, a hoof clopping appreciatively.

"I am going to interview the witnesses," I replied softly, stroking from the tip of her nose to the crown of her head in a slow, soothing rhythm. "If you want to help, you can keep your focus outside, maybe try to figure out where our target is."

I didn't wait for him to respond, layering energy thickly onto my voice box and putting my focus on the cow.

"Hello, Friend. We're here to help you. Do you understand?" The animal stared for a moment, turning its head (its eyes are of course not positioned at the front of the face, as it is a beast traditionally filling the role of prey) to give me a side-view of its face.

Understand? She asked with a tilt of her head. Already, I could tell this particular language was going to be a problem. The gist of her response was likely to express awe that she could in fact understand me, but it was not communicated through noise. Mami's voice was delivered in much the same way, though her body and eyes were more familiar to me, thus reading her responses was a simple matter.

Even the wolves and their vocal expressions had been easy, once I'd traded a few words.

"I am Speaker, to all," I attempted. She did not respond except to blink. "I know how to speak."

The rather stupid animal canted its head a different way.

Know. Understand. Friend, like dog friend. Hungry. She punctuated that last word in the garbled mess with a low keen, and that was at least a recognizable request.

"You're hungry, I know. I will help you get food," I reassured her slowly. "But later. Right now, tell me how the others died."

It was like flipping a switch in their brains. All at once, they all began to cry, and a startled yelp followed by a short curse told me Botan might have just dropped the pen. The cows all shouted at me, their words indistinguishable, save for a few.

Dark! Walking Dark! Smell! Kill! Dead! Dead! Dead!

Though there was risk of being discovered, I pulled on my power, ki spreading in steady waves outward, ensnaring the cattle. The noise began to lessen as their simple minds accepted the calming effect of the energy. They were silent again in seconds, and I immediately reabsorbed my energy.

"Where is the Walking Dark?" I asked carefully, quietly so as not to start another panic. The cow, who had laid her ears back in fear, twitched them.

Away. I grit my teeth for a moment.

"Far away, or close by?" Again another flick, this one slightly more dismissive.

Far.

"What does it look like?"

She paused, stomping one hoof as she searched her memories. I moved my hand to her neck, letting it rest just above her heartbeat. It was abnormally quick, and I wondered if perhaps I should have left my power exposed to keep her calm and (at least a little more) coherent.

Big, color, claws tear, shiny. Possibly utilizing a blade, possibly wearing armor. Her description was difficult to decipher, but it was safe to say the demon was physically capable and imposing, if the cows considered it big.

Two.

I glanced up to find her eyeing me.

"Two?"

She lifted her head and let out a long 'moo.'

Two, Big Walking Dark, Little Dark. Three friend, Speaker, Big Sun, Small Moon. Bigger, friend. Help, hungry.

"Okay," I patted her neck with a nod, stepping away. "You'll eat soon. Soon," I repeated. "Wait."

She accepted this, albeit hesitantly, and with a sigh of relief, I made my way over (past festering corpses) to where Botan and Kazuma stood, the former applying the final runes to the wall. She glanced up briefly from the notebook as I approached.

"I'm almost finished here, Hotaru. Just a few more lines."

"Good." I observed her handiwork, noting her line art could use a little work. I briefly wondered if she had ever used the pen before.

"So I guess… you talk to animals now, huh?" Kazuma prompted, and in a moment of shock I realized I'd never actually shown him what I was capable of in that regard.

"Yes, though they all speak different languages. It's difficult to understand at times, especially from ones with such simple minds." I glanced back towards the cows, who now waited patiently, then up at Kazuma. His eyes were wide and shining with something that… was not his anger from earlier. Something positive, if the way my chest grew warm was any indication.

"Wow, cool! Guess when your spirit powers started to get stronger, your thing with animals got even weirder too!" I hummed in acknowledgement of this fact, looking back down to where the most recently mutilated carcass sat rotting. It bothered me only a bit that I had gotten used to the smell in such a short time. I could feel when Kazuma followed my gaze, his entire aura shutting down like a cut power line.

"This stuff… it's messed up," he muttered, and I nodded my agreement.

What could I say? I could hardly understand it myself, but every time my eyes found one of the corpses, even if they were only these mentally deficient, virtually useless animals, I could feel things. Such sharp emotions, hot and strong. Anger, the desire to avenge, the need to fix what had been broken. But I could not resurrect the dead. All I could do was kill, just like the monster that terrorized these pitiful creatures. All I could be… was just another version of that fear.

~"Spirit World has finally learned how to fight monsters with monsters." Crimson eyes, taunting, burning into my soul with complete comprehension. He knew me.~

It was fortunate, then, that a monster is exactly what was needed.

"Pay attention. We don't have the time to go over this more than once."

From my hiding place, I could only see the others by using my power. Their distinct energies stood out to me like twin beacons of pure starlight, both of them shining more brightly than I would have liked. Perhaps upon my return, I would ask Kurama to explain to me the art of concealing energy. As it was, I only needed to make myself a more appealing target, hopefully drowning out the other two with my presence.

I called my power to the surface, extending and expanding beyond the boundaries of the barn. It crawled on many spindly legs towards the other source of power, the dark foreboding aura that had at first been undetected. It was weak, weaker than myself at any rate, but I would be a fool to underestimate an opponent that so far remained unknown.

Clawing and snapping, my ki danced about, as though exploring with jovial complacency this newfound territory, a shiming luer on a taut fishing line. It curled over the earth, around every blade of grass and every tree, a thin miasma, completely innocent and carefree. This was the energy of one new to their power, unaware of the trouble it could bring, completely and blissfully ignorant of the larger world beyond that which they could touch.

In essence, a demon honeypot.

Gouki was not an anomaly, it seemed. Many demons predated humans for their souls, most especially those with some spiritual awareness. I could only imagine what could be gained by devouring the power of another. I imagined, however, it might reduce the two parties to the likeness of microscopic organisms, and that comparison alone was enough to keep me from wondering if there was a way for a human to perform the act.

My studies, paired with occasional conversation with Kurama, had provided just enough information on typical demons for me to feel fairly confident in my plan. However, there was always the chance they would realize the trap, or detect the two energies hidden from sight. It was an acceptable risk in regards to Kazuma's life. I was close enough to aid him, should the need arise. However, it could completely undermine my efforts. If the demon escaped…

Eat?

I glanced to my left, where a particularly young cow stood staring at me, stretching out as though reaching for me. I extended a hand to pat her large nose.

"In a moment, I have to kill the… Walking Dark," I whispered, and the cow snorted softly in displeasure. However, she raised no argument, for which I was grateful. I was not confident yet in my ability to have a debate in this language.

My senses had almost completely adjusted to the smell of waste and carnage. I stood among the living corpses now, their stench only more prevalent as I pressed against their hides, smoothing flanks in soft comfort where I could. The power that was not in use as spiritual fishing line floated about, keeping the animals calm and quiet for the moment.

For just a moment.

There was a bite on the lure, a miniscule flash of darkness at the edge of my spirit energy. The flash became a roaring flame, my presence having been finally discovered. The demon was approaching, and quickly. My energy, however, remained oblivious, hardly reacting to the power signature that drew closer and closer. I could hardly tell if there were two or not, which indicated one of two things. Either the nearing target was alone, or one power vastly overshadowed the other, as my own energy was doing for my team.

I could feel the tension outside, Kazuma and Botan both growing more anxious. Their energy fluctuated only slightly. I waited to feel the demon hesitate, perhaps hint that he had felt the inconsistency, but there was nothing. He drew closer at an increased pace, cutting a path through the invisible fog my energy created. I could see him now, a mountainous splash of red lumbering towards my position. A core of sickly green stuck out garishly in the center of his chest, exactly where Kurama's had been.

Closer…

He slowed to a stop, then tread much more softly. His core's light began to dwindle, growing dimmer the closer he came. If not for the obvious signature of his red soul, I may not have been able to pick him apart from the surrounding greenery.

A few more steps, just a little more.

Big Walking Dark. The call went out from one cow somewhere by the door, quickly picked up and echoed by the rest. It was nearly drowned out by the Rush, roaring through my ears and surging forth like a giant wave to my fingertips. Eager hands trembled, and I kept them as still as I could.

He was just outside the door, alone. Not for long, however, as I felt yet another tug on the line. The second presence was heading our way. If I could not deal with this under the allotted five minutes, Kazuma and Botan would be forced to face that which the cows deemed Little Dark.

The demon finally took the first step through the door. The voices raised to earth-shattering wails, the animals clamouring about preventing me from laying eyes on the beast. I could still see his energy though, muted green with a red backdrop coming steadily closer, one step, two, until he was several meters away from the door. He stalked with catlike silence despite his size, moving towards me as the cows stomped and screamed.

"I know you're there, little human." The voice, distinctly male, called out over the cacophony of terror. "I can feel you. I know you sense me as well."

That… was not Japanese. My head tilted to the side for a moment as my brain ran through the heavily accented words to assign meaning. It was English from what I could tell, or some form of it. The words were butchered, nearly incomprehensible, yet the intent that accompanied each syllable was difficult to misconstrue.

He was almost far enough in. I pushed out a little more power to simulate a fearful response.

"That is an extraordinary amount of power. Such a pity it is wasted on someone with no sense of self preservation." I moved silently, ducking and weaving under and behind cows as quickly as I dared. His energy moved to my previous position where he stopped. From nearly ten meters down the line, I stepped out from the row of cows. My power snapped back with a nearly audible force, and though it couldn't be heard, I knew any spiritually aware being in the area would be affected by the whiplash. To his credit, he only stiffened in his shock.

He finally turned his head to look at me, just as the doors through which he had entered slammed shut. I could hear the whimsical tinkle of bells as the final seal on the outside was activated. The walls were now warded…

For five minutes. I would need three, at most. The Rush was deafening.

The demon regarded me with a narrow-eyed look, then slowly curled his lips to a smirk. His features were a dull maroon, his height and skin tone alone marking him as distinctly non-human. Sandy hair swept away from his face, over the back of his head and behind a large set of pointed ears. His eyes were dark, the color indistinguishable from here, but they were hard-set and cold.

The most notable feature I could identify was the rather glaring shimmer of his armor. It appeared to be European in design, and had he a helmet of any kind, I might expect him to grace the halls of some medieval tourist attraction. The untarnished silvery color brought to mind the title of knight rather than soldier, as did the crest decorating the cuirass, extending from the neck to his midsection: a circular shape formed from the twisting of raised lines to form a complex system of knots. The somewhat familiar pattern wove in and among itself, ending and beginning in no definite place.

The recesses of my mind supplied the term 'eternity knot.' I'd seen this in the booklet, some sort of complex spell...

Every conceivable point of his body, barring his unprotected head, was completely concealed behind the shining metal suit. Even his neck was protected by a high collar that nearly hid his chin from view. Yet, as he turned to face me, there was no sound. No scrape of steel or the whining protest of metal forced to bend to accommodate him. Even his feet remained silent as they created dust clouds where they fell.

"You have set a trap," he commented in his awkward English, sounding neither angry nor surprised. In fact, I could not say he was impressed either. I nodded in response. He sighed, though the breath carried little weight. "And you are clearly not what your energy implied."

"I am a Spirit Detective," In clear English, I cut him off, finding little use in his ponderings. "I am here to ascertain the whereabouts of the humans who lived here. Tell me what you have done with them."

He did not respond, smiling in a rather relaxed way and letting out a low laugh. He did not even look at me, glancing around at the notably quiet animals surrounding us with a calm curiosity, irritating smile firmly in place.

"Now that's strange, I could have sworn the cattle were crying out just a minute ago." He carried that strange accent which I was unfamiliar with, though in my mind, I was certain it in some way was reflective of the armor he wore. Some northern European country then?

"What is your reason for abducting the humans, and slaughtering these animals?" I asked, tacking on the last part as an afterthought. I did wish he would answer my questions. My hands were going to lock up if I continued to hold them stiff for so long. But if I didn't, they would shake with anticipation. Thunder rolled steadily, the decibel level increasing as blood, hot and thick, bolted like lightning through my veins.

"I have never had the honor of engaging in fisticuffs with a Spirit World Hunter- Huntress, my apologies." He grinned, the charming look overshadowed by the exaggerated sorrow. "And I had hoped for battle most glorious and thrilling. Alas, I do have a bit of a time limit. I certainly hope you live up to the legends of your predecessors."

Well, since he asked so nicely.

He jumped out of the way of my sickle, silent as death and landing several feet away from where my blade dug into the concrete floor. Light on his feet, stealthy, and seemingly unencumbered by the sheer surface area of his garb, this demon would have proven quite a fascination were I so inclined to study him.

His eyes, though wide, only glittered with greater enthusiasm.

"You're rather quick, Little Huntress!" It sounded like praise. It annoyed me.

He and I shot towards one another the moment his feet touched the ground, my blades colliding with his crossed arms. The metal finally made a sound as my energy touched it, a clang like steel on steel. Odd.

"Apologies Lady, but your speed won't be enough. This is enchanted armor, see? A creation of the Sidhe, my masters." He smiled, a carefree and cocky expression of triumph, his larger form pushing my arms down. I held my stance, though I could feel my feet sliding back on the floor. The back of my heel touched something soft. I pushed back, digging the balls of my feet into the hay. No matter the direction this fight would go, I would not be reduced to a blundering simpleton trodding on the bodies of innocents!

Energy poured through my arms, the blades fluctuating dangerously. The violet light wavered, flickering briefly before bursting anew in a rippling flame over my skin. The edge pulsed in waves, serrated edge ripping down my arm with the grating noise of a whetstone, constant and high.

The metal gauntlet creaked. The demons eyes grew wide. I surged up after his momentary shock, driving the blades further, further, until the armor gave completely- And he was gone, leaving me off-balance and stumbling to find my footing again. His energy moved behind me quickly, and I threw myself into a forward. I rolled to my knees and faced him once again. We stood mere paces apart, his gaze focused and wild as he beheld the jagged scar in his armor. Then, wide eyes flicked up, some unreadable emotion flickering in them.

"Now.. that is quite the curiosity, Little Huntress. How is it you managed to pierce this armor? This is Magick far beyond your years."

I lunged for him, taking a swipe with the long scythe at his midsection. He jumped away again, and I continued to chase him. He flew around the room, smiling jovially each time he evaded my blade. Further compliments left his lips, remarks on the technique, the finesse unlike anything he had seen, quite a bit of pandering. Yet, he made no move of his own to attack, despite his glances to the door and window. The anxious movements kept him irritatingly occupied.

He stepped to the side after I stabbed out at his middle, intentionally leaving my entire left side open for a moment. His core immediately burst to life, a large, metal-clad fist coming to land on my ribs. I moved just so to allow him impact, pushing off the ground and using his force to propel myself away. I twisted in the air just before landing.

I raised a hand to my side, just over my short ribs, where there was localized, sharp pain, not dissimilar to being given a shot. There was no energy signature within that was not my own, and his core had quietened once more. His retreat had carried him further away, and he stared me down with glee written on every corner of his ruddy face.

"What is this?" Again, my question was met with silent laughter. The pain at first began to spread, though slowly, a burning sensation overtaking the stabbing. He lifted a fist for me to see, and I peered more closely. As he curled his fingers, tiny needles slid from the knuckle joints, the index and middle of his right hand missing.

"Something of my masters design, Little Huntress." He frowned, his voice holding only the barest hint of spite. "Rather unsportsmanlike, I should say, but I shall not speak ill of my masters. They do not hold to tradition any longer, and it is their divine right to do as they please. I obey their will… I ask your forgiveness Lady, for the dishonorable means by which I must secure my victory."

He took a step forward, his energy flaring abruptly before he advanced with another fist, aimed for my stomach. I threw myself into a back handspring, ignoring the sharp tearing of the small needles inside me. Coated in poison perhaps, but it mattered little. That was what I had Botan for.

His core muted once more, and I pulled the power from my arms to my eyes, looking more closely at the green orb. It seemed to be drawing power rather than regenerating it. Instead of a writhing light growing from the center, the power was flowing backwards, towards the chest to be collected. He gathered energy, using it in small bursts and wearing the armor to compensate for his weakness. I would have to time this exactly right.

"Still slippery, even with death in your veins," he mused. "Iontach."

The energy stilled, I breathed in. For just that fraction of a second, all was quiet, Save the Rush which pounded like war drums in my ears. The hands that beat the taught, tight white skins whispered, chanted, screamed, encouraged me. Goading me with their singular word, spoken in syncopated time.

Kill.

It exploded out, his final attack flying towards me in all his gleaming metal. I breathed out, dropping my body and darting between his legs as his fist thrust through the air where my head had been a moment ago. Once directly behind him, I jumped, using the convenient hand hold created by the rather blocky design of the armor to pull myself up to his shoulders. My right hand closed around the metal guard around his neck, and just as his head began to turn, my left came alive in a flash of violet.

His scream tore through the Rush as a boulder cutting a stream. My blade, wickedly curved just below his arm, slid seamlessly into the space between the pauldron and cuirass. I yanked my arm up, his voice rising in pitch and wavering as he tore his throat with the force of the cry. Blood a thick purple splattered over my blue skirt, over my leg and soaking into my sock. I could feel it seeping through to my skin, hot and still swimming with power.

The arm fell to the ground, twitching even as it's former owner lamented its loss with agonized wails. He silenced himself as he fell to his knees, his remaining hand moving to stay the bleeding. Even from behind him, I could see the twitching in his jaw as his teeth clenched, refusing to allow another sound of his defeat to escape. I found myself impressed that he managed to keep his complaints to a strangled groan when, as I descended to the ground, the other arm joined the first, painting the grey and yellow floor with flowering spatters of mauve. Beside the blackened, browning red, I might say we had planted wildflowers in the carnage, petals shining brightly with the fleeting nature of life.

I walked through our garden, my steps deliberate as I faced him once more. The pallor of pain coupled with the manic desperation in the almost white-glazed eyes provided me with some sense of satisfaction. I tilted my head, trying to catch his gaze. If I could see them, see their raw emotion just once…

"You have bested me, Little Huntress," he growled, though if the tone was from anger or pain, I could not care less. "I let my guard down. I have no excuse. You were far more worthy than I gave you credit for. Forgive me, Lady."

When he lifted his shining eyes to mine, I recoiled in disgust.

That… that wasn't right. Where was the desperation? Where was the fear and hopelessness that should plague those so near to death? Where, pray tell, was the anger, the humiliation at being bested by someone a third his size?

In place of those things I sought, those things I needed, there was only regret, apology. He looked at me now, on eye level with me now that he rested on his knees, and in his expression I could read only the shame of not having taken me seriously. His pride, his arrogance, shattered, but not by the means I intended. He bowed his head remorsefully, tearing his eyes from mine.

"I have failed you, as my opponent. Please, take your victory." He bared the back of his rust-colored neck, the open invitation something I found utterly revolting.

I raised my chin, staring down the back of his sandy head with fire behind my eyes.

My gaze flicked down to the arms still oozing precious liquid blooms, forming bright pools even in the dim lighting.

Then to the state of his armor, the tiniest of scratches indicating I had been closer than I thought with every strike.

Then back to his neck.

I lifted my hand, only hesitating for a second.

The head fell to the ground, landing in the purple puddle and bouncing just enough to splatter my shoes. A short clink sounded as a chunk of the collar followed, cut cleanly by the blade that severed his neck. For a moment, the giant metal form stood as though frozen in time, leaking from the top three openings. I could see the neat line where his vertebrae began, ringed by flesh not nearly as dark as his blood, a lavender ringed with several layers of black corded muscle. Rivulets of blood sprang from the black artery, a few drops springing up to lap at my cheeks. The rest coated the front of my skirt, my shoes (ruined, along with everything else), socks, blouse…

Then I stepped back, as with a thunderous series of clangs the armor-plated body finally collapsed into a heap of… limblessness. And I stared. I could only watch, waiting for the corpse to reanimate. Waiting for the head to start laughing, or the arms to jump up of their own accord and accost me.

Waiting for anything, because this was not right.

My brow grew tight, mouth pulling into a thin line. My vision darkened, hands trembling even as I clenched them into fists and stuffed them into the folds of my skirt just to keep them from acting on their own.

No fear? No helpless terror? Just… Just that disgusting acceptance! The apology to me, for not taking our fight seriously, it was rude. Offensive to the greatest degree. Certainly, I had made the kill, painted myself with plenty of blood, even resolved the case…

I was in no way satisfied. Cheated from that culmination of my anticipation and meticulous planning, overpowering that which had wronged me held no joy. It was an empty victory. He never did experience the despair of his victims. Their pains could never be rectified, their deaths disregarded by their killer, who in his last moments did not have the decency to be afraid. Even his regret held no mention of the three mutilated bodies surrounding his. It was only right that he die here, before the witnesses who could still be healed.

I wish I could say that was enough for me. But it was not.

Little Dark!

My breathing hitched.

"Hotaru, it's here!"

"Ru-Ru! What's going on, are you okay!? Answer!"

I barely registered that I had moved to the door, gripping the lock and tearing it open before hauling the door to the side. I ran, my spirit sense cast about to assess the position of my teammates.

Kazuma ("What the hell is that stuff!?") was to my right, further than Botan, who seemed to appear suddenly at my left. Her oar was held aloft as a sort of weapon, the terror in her gaze belied by the hard set of her jaw, the grim snarl just barely concealed behind full lips.

"There, the fence," Botan pointed, darting just behind me but keeping close. I turned my eyes there as Kazuma backed away from the figure just below my height, lithe and graceful as it prowled on four legs towards its prey.

A long-legged hound, white as the full moon with ears stained blood red as the rising sun. It moved with fluid agility, slipping through the fence posts as a specter, as water through a fissure. Each hair on it's coat bristled in the blatant show of aggression, pearlescent teeth bared, a baritone growl reverberating through my bones. It's elegant body was solid muscle, rippling under the pure, untarnished coat with each powerful, deliberate stride.

He snapped his jowls, beautiful teeth clacking sharply. The nearly luminescent white fur seemed not to reflect the light of the moon, but conceal the moon, wearing it overtop its skin. The ears angled my way, the long nose lifting to scent the air. Alarm flashed across his face, auroral eyes widening in dismay. A low whine built in the back of his throat, the sound piercing my chest with a spike of ice. I raised both hands, taking slow steps towards him, pleading.

"Ru-Ru, don't," Kazuma warned, but I ignored his concern.

"Don't be afraid, don't be angry," I began, then, remembering his master, switched to English. Perhaps he would understand the words more familiar to his ears, even if I did not bear the same strange accent. "I am your friend. Please, be calm."

The high keening persisted, even as I came closer. Then the hound, ears pressed tightly to his skull in grief, threw back his head to howl. A song of sorrow cut through the night, a wail of misery that took hold of my heart in a vice like grip, squeezing and twisting until it could have been ripped straight from my chest, and I wouldn't have noticed over the pain of his suffering.

"Dog, please," I called when my frozen insides could take no more. The ice running through me was cold enough to burn. It was with regret I realized perhaps I had been too hasty to kill the demon. He must not have been worth killing, to inspire the loyalty of a creature such as-

MURDERER!

The howl morphed into a roar, snow-white teeth once again bared in a vicious display. His head lowered, and I could only watch as his body undulated, curling in for a brief moment before he leaped into a full-on sprint. Growls punctuated the thumps as his paws impacted the ground, claws tearing up turf with each bound. He flew like a ghost toward his prey… Toward me.

For a moment, I was unsure if I could move. I wanted to, yet I did not. Surely I could still convince him… he only needed to come closer, to feel that I was no threat to him. His fangs would not rip out my throat and stain the immaculate canvass of his fur. Even if they did, I would not stop him. I shared his pain, and it kept me rooted to the spot in grim resignation. I opened my arms, to welcome him, or to appeal one last time? I saw him launch into the air, a radiant blur of white…

Cut down by the glow of sunlight. But it was still night…

My mouth fell open as blue crossed my vision. Blue, and yellow. The sword caught the beautiful hound across the face, tearing at the skin, ripping his fur to leave streaks of red. It caught him across the chest, the side, where a crimson trail marked the path of the Spirit Sword's destructive power. With a fierce yell, Kazuma tossed the hound away, the unusually sharp edges of his weapon turning any blood it met into steam.

The bloodied white form fell.

She screamed in rage, the sound curdling my blood as it left the darkest territory of my mind. It tore its way from my own throat, Her distress and mine mingling until I was certain we were one in torturous solidarity.

My body moved on instinct, darting around my brother-

Maraigh é! Srac amach a chroí! Déan é a chuimilt óna chéile, é a mharú!

I landed jarringly on my knees, my hands moving to cradle the hound's weeping head. Blood far brighter and more precious than any humans flowed in rivers from every wound. His paws worked frantically, desperately, in a futile attempt to stand. Warm tears boiled over, cascading unbidden down my face. The hound… oh, the hound cried too.

Mo mhadra, ó mo bhuachaill luachmhar…


The aftermath was something of a blur to me. I vaguely remembered a trip to Spirit World for some reason. Kazuma was excited, forgetting the trauma of the night for a few brief moments as he gaped and pointed at everything his dark eyes alighted on. Each wonder came with questions, comical expressions displaying various forms of confusion and wariness, all with the underlying curiosity, childlike and innocent.

I was given a uniform to replace the one that was stained so irreparably. I could not very well ride the transit in such filth. Or perhaps I could, but that was one sensibility I would not offend. Proper girls did not ride trains whilst covered in demon blood.

Spirit World's crew was left with the task of tidying up after us. It was a job I was content not to do. There was something quite unsettling about the butchery we had witnessed, and on my part, executed. Botan had been unusually quiet as well, though I could hardly blame her. For all she claimed to be, a shinigami, the physical nature of death was something she was far too out of touch with. If I cared, I might suggest she take time off. Her emotions had only become more erratic once we reached the farmhouse.

Where the human family once lived had become as much of a slaughterhouse as the barn, perhaps more so. Five bodies, ranging in ages from as young as myself to older than my father, hung flayed from the walls of the perfectly square living room, the five points connected by a star of thick, blackened blood. The corners were large from the pools of blood practically pouring from each corpse, though that was all that was left to fall as each organ had been removed.

What remained within the split chest, hovering among the viscera and bone, were the souls. Every one of them remained with the body, encased in bubbles of the same shade of green that the demon's core had shone. The energy was just barely visible within the lines of the star, and simply smudging the work had released it, along with the souls.

An antiquated full-length mirror had rested in the center of the room, eerily familiar symbols written in red decorating the glass. Some of the markings I had never seen, yet I knew their origins were the same as those that I knew, or else the. At least ten of them were listed in my book, runes I had never used, never would have thought to combine in such ways. They were linked by thinner lines, all of which had glowed with the same demonic power before we disrupted the flow. The spell lay dormant now, blood turning brown.

Hearts were scattered in pieces that, upon first glance, seemed random. Upon closer inspection, the pattern formed words in a language unknown to me. Perhaps the demon's native tongue.

We had left shortly after, Kazuma unwilling to subject himself (or me) to any more gore than was necessary.

We didn't end up taking the trains home, though I did prefer entering the house with clean clothing, if only to avoid questions. It was nearly midnight when we returned, and it was startling to me that the recent events had occurred in a single evening. The time spent in the open graveyard seemed to last for days.

Kazuma kept his arm around my shoulders until we breached the door, allowing me to pull away with some hesitancy. He stopped just by the kitchen, glancing into the darkened room and giving a humorless chuckle.

"I thought I'd be hungry but…" He trailed off, and I shrugged.

"Go to sleep. You could stand to miss a meal," I teased, but the words were forced and hollow, and his response lacked any real emotion.

"Yeah, I guess so."

I paused, glancing over my shoulder at him. He still stared into the shadows, expression somewhat vacant despite the obvious motion of his thoughts behind his eyes. His tall frame looked frail, somehow, like a passing breeze might knock him over. The impact with the floor would shatter him into pieces. A glass figurine, which had once been so far above the rest of the world, was now witness to the gritty reality it had overlooked. It was stained, tainted, impure. No doubt, it would come to see other truths in due time.

Truths I would rather it not know.

"Hey," his scratchy voice broke me from my meandering thoughts, and I tilted my head to indicate he had my attention. "The way you acted back there… you were really strong. Just, like it didn't bother you at all."

Did he mean the cattle? Was he talking about the humans? Perhaps it didn't matter.

"It did," I answered, purposely vague. "It was… painful." His eyes sought mine, glimmering in some hopeful disbelief, shining a little too much for my comfort. I offered him my hand, sure to keep my gaze soft and not betray the exhaustion that clung to me like an old jacket.

He crossed the space between us with stuttering steps, his larger hand finding mine in the blackness. Moonlight cut across his body like silver spears, marking his broad shoulders and the place where our skin met. I moved my other hand up, gripping his arm gently, tugging his body towards me. He didn't need further prompting, practically falling forward and scooping my small form into a tight, rib-crushing embrace. He hunched over so that his chin rested on the top of my head, his breaths shifting the hairs and sending shivers over my scalp.

His arms trembled. He shook, perhaps with how tightly he held me? I could tell myself that, to make the impact of his damage a little easier to handle.

"I'm so sorry," I tried to speak normally, but what came out was a whisper, pathetically clinging to a whine as though I was some defenseless child. He held on for a moment longer before pulling away, hands weighing heavily on my shoulders.

"You don't have a reason to be sorry, you hear me?" he told me with an audible frown. I let my eyes close.

"Yes, I do." The whimpering child was gone, my tone forceful as I took hold of one of his hands. I had to focus on my hand to be sure my fingers didn't crush his. I did not look at him, keeping my gaze locked on the blue buttons that reflected the dim moonlight. "I shouldn't have allowed you to go. It wasn't your job, it was mine. You had no right to be there."

"What!?" He flinched at his own volume, leaning over further in an attempt to catch my eye. "No way, I had to go! I wasn't gonna just let you go do something dangerous like that alone! And it's a good thing I was there, or that demon dog thing would've- well it was gonna kill you!"

The hound… dazzling white fur stained scarlet, the crimson ears tucked back as it heaved breath after dying breath.

"Besides, after seeing what you and Urameshi do, there's no way I can let you keep doing this by yourself, especially since he's gone. I can't just pretend like I don't know when I do know, ya know?" I blinked, raising a brow in slight concern.

"I suppose I understand," I conceded. "But that doesn't change my opinion. I have seen these things before. You don't need to."

His glare was palpable, the space around me darkening further with the force of his anger. Yet his ire was silent, his voice clipped and cool, commanding.

"You can't make that choice for me. That's for me to decide." His hands squeezed harder, and I was forced to meet his authoritative gaze. "And besides, I've seen it before too. It's freaky, but as long as you don't have to do it alone… I'll go through anything, alright?"

I blinked slowly. He stared down, the desperation in his eyes breaking the impact his glare may have had.

I nodded.

He didn't smile, but his face did soften. A sigh left him, and as though the air was the only thing keeping him standing upright, his entire body slumped with obvious exhaustion. It weighed down his bones like a ball and chain, heavy with memories and emotion that could never burden me so terribly.

I stepped away, and he let me go. He followed me up the stairs, then to the bathroom where we slowly readied for bed. Then, we parted ways to go to our separate doors. Mami waited at my door, yellow eyes looking up expectantly.

You're unwell. You are… sad.

I tilted my head and nodded in acknowledgement of her observation, and she flicked her tail, rising to her back legs and leaning on me with her paws.

We should sleep. You will feel better, when morning comes. You are always better after sleep, Sister.

I nodded again, the corner of my mouth twitching just slightly. I frowned, however, noticing the silence in the hallway. A look over my shoulder saw Kazuma, standing still and quiet, facing his bedroom door with his head bowed. I raised my chin slightly, careful to keep my voice low so as not to wake our sister.

"Hey," I called quietly. He turned to give me a strange, awful look. I didn't like it. Wordlessly, I opened my door and jerked my head towards my room. He hesitated only a moment before following, his pace remarkably quick for someone so tired.

The three of us entered at spaced intervals. I didn't bother to change, or pull back the blankets. I simply moved to the mattress and scooted as far back against the wall as I could, waiting for him. He moved on instinct, laying beside me and curling, hunched over so that his forehead rested against my sternum. My hand fell to his mess of curls, my other arm folded under his head where the pillow did not reach. His hands curled into fists which he stuck between us like mice burrowing away in a field.

Mami lay in a vibrating ball at his stomach, her fur tickling my bare knee. I massaged his scalp gently, tangling my fingers in the bleached orange hair that met my touch. My breathing stayed low and steady, consistent with each repetition.

He was out in minutes.

I lay there for a time, sleep evading me despite my body's protests. My mind was in another place, another time, it would not release those images of the slaughter. That would never go away, I think. Was this how I was supposed to feel about people? Why, if I could not feel such things for my own kind, did I react so strongly to the mutilated corpses of things that could barely hold conversation? Such slow, stupid animals, yet their bleeding carcasses grew a glacier inside me, a painful cold not to be dispelled by the hot flash of revenge.

My revenge… so hollow. My enemy barely a challenge, save for the needles in his…

My eyes grew wide, my breath catching in my throat. The needles! I had forgotten them completely in the wake of the dog attack. The pain had seemed to vanish completely, and with no reminder of their presence, I had neglected to even bring up my injury to Botan. Which of course left me with the very startling realization…

They were still inside me.


Dun Dun DUUUUUNNN! No, I did not forget the needles. And no, this isn't even close to actually being over. Hotaru's struggles have only just begun.

So I realized while editing earlier this week that I basically gave the villain no characterization. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't that he was a poorly made character. He had a backstory and everything, he even had a name! It was just that Hotaru, as a character, isn't the type of person to allow anyone else to give any exposition on themselves or their purpose. She's very straight and to the point. She just up and killed him before he could get any of his personality out! So, I changed that, which was something that gave me a lot of trouble.

So, this happened, and it's better now. God I hate Hotaru. I just want to have fleshed out characters bitch! Let the villains talk!

On a completely different topic, these are technically the very first words Mami speaks in the story! Yay Mami! She features more, don't worry. She's one of my favorite characters. If you'll notice, Hotaru has actually had conversations with her before, but her abilities weren't developed enough to understand the actual words, just feelings. Now, we can hear what the cat is saying, and I'm so psyched!

So, meow for now, and everyone stay healthy out there.