Ghost's Fury Chapter 18: Furious Food Critics, a How to Train Your Dragon + Big Hero 6 Crossover fanfic

Chapter 18, everybody! It's a Kyle Busch number! :D

Sorry for dropping off the face of the earth with this fic for the last couple of months, but the writing juice was elsewhere. XP On the positive side, some of that juice was for Books II and III, so…good things.

Not sure if Skrill hunting Night Furies is canon, but it cropped up in VigoGrimborne's Living series, and I liked the concept—plus it fits because we've got other dragons that canonically eat other dragons.

In other news, my knowledge of sushi and how to prepare it is limited mostly to the time my Dad did shrimp and whatever I've read up so forgive me if I make any sushi-related mistakes. ^^;

Also, we're definitely going to be seeing more of this and my other fics soon—I'm knuckling down on active fics this month, and a conversation the characters had has now jumpstarted some stuff and put other things in motion and Obake is just really going to have a frustrating time. ^^;

Thanks for the review, guest! I don't know! It's gotten attention on AO3, so I'm thinking it's because FFN isn't as kind to crossovers. ^^ AAAAAAH THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! :D I will do my best! *gives you all the virtual hugs*

Hiro drifted back to wakefulness, strange smells tickling his nose—blinked his eyes open, forcing his way through the fuzziness frosting them—

"Well, look who finally decided to join us."

Where he was, what had happened, and who had done it to him all jumped on his head at once.

"Hey," he hissed at Obake, getting to his feet and ignoring the wobble in them. "Jerk!"

"Tell me, and be honest," Obake said, taking something over to an odd boulder set against the wall. "That's an off switch that beleaguered dragon parents make use of, isn't it?"

Hiro hissed, ears flat at him making such a scarily accurate guess, followed him over to the odd boulder when curiosity got the better of him. Hmm, not a boulder, this was made of wood—a log then?

Ears flipped up in surprise when Obake pulled part of it open, revealing a hollow divot.

"Wow, what is that—urgh," he noised, backing up as a sour smell hit his nose. "I think you clawed up some rot."

"It's for curing fish," Obake said, putting perfectly good fish into the stinking substance before pulling some other pieces of fish out. Made a pensive noise and held it out to Hiro. "Interested?"

"Ugh NO!" Hiro barked, backing up. "It smells like you barfed up half-rotten fish!"

"Well it's good to know there's something you'll keep your nose out of."

"Is that an insult? I feel insulted. Hey get back here!" he barked, cantering after Obake as he went to a couple of…were those eggs in the fire? Dig his claws in, trying to hold on to his indignance in the face of new oddities—had to look down when his claws scraped wood. Ah, right, Yokai apparently nested in wood-caves. Somehow.

"You're going to need to not do that," Obake told him. "I don't need evidence that I'm harboring a dragon all over my house."

"I'm going to claw everything to mark my territory and there's not a thing you can do about it," Hiro countered—ear flaps up again when Obake used a silver stick to pull something out of the one egg to put in a hollow rock. "What is that? Are those eggs? YOU'RE EATING THE UNBORN WHY."

"I suppose dragons wouldn't know about rice," Obake said, sliding the rotten fish onto the cooked egg-guts and EW why—

Hiro scrambled back, ears flat when Obake offered him the flat piece of rock the fish had been on.

"So using you as a dishwasher is out," Obake said, putting the rock on a ledge before getting a different hollow rock and going to the second egg.

"Wait what is THAT that's not egg-guts," Hiro said, shuffling forward again. "That smells like leaf-water WHY is there leaf-water in that egg?"

Obake considered him for a beat before separating the hollow rock from the flat bit it was sitting on, pouring some leaf-water onto it before setting it down on Hiro's level.

"It's called tea," Obake told him.

"'Tea,'" Hiro repeated, trying to turn the Yokai-word into something sensible-sounding. Sniff—smelled like hot leaf-water. Lick—

"Urgh ack PLEAGH," Hiro spat, backing up and scrubbing his tongue with a paw. EW that was gross. Glare at Obake snickering at him, huff and pace around, shooting him dirty looks as he did so, which Obake had to be aware of considering he was keeping an eye squintily open during his moment of silence. Pace back at him when he used a pair of sticks to start eating the rotten fish UGH WHY.

Obake was currently leaning against the ledge he had put the one rock on, drummed his not-claws on it as he considered Hiro…finally pinched something between the two sticks before dropping it on the floor in front of Hiro.

Hiro, for the most part, was expecting a trick at this point—sniff at the blob of egg-guts, faintly smelling of the rotten-fish and the weird bulbous roots they dug up sometimes but not much of anything else. Whatever this was, it wasn't actually part of an egg. Which, honestly, led to the question of what those things were if they weren't eggs….

Obake was eating the stuff and still watching him. Consider…okay, so obviously Yokai had different stomach systems to stand eating THAT, but…lick the blob up—

Keep licking when the texture didn't agree with him—like that time he had licked up a bunch of maggots on a dare.

"Ugh ew UGH," he spat, pawing at his tongue AGAIN in an attempt to get that out of his mouth ugh WHY no better yet HOW could Yokai eat this stuff THIS WAS GROSS.

Even worse, Obake was laughing at him.

"So am I to assume that if I were to join you on the floor you'd leave my dinner alone?" he asked, amused. When Hiro glared at him he shrugged, put the hollow rock on the stone ledge the tame-fire rested on, turned around—

"Ah, MUCH better," Hiro said, ears perked up when Obake put a flat rock's worth of fish guts and bones in front of him. Imitate his squinty one-eye approach (adding an apology this was probably going to be a habit before it was all over) before digging in OH YES this was SO MUCH BETTER.

"Why are you laughing don't laugh," Hiro huffed as Obake settled down on his level, sitting crosslegged against the one ledge and can we once again discuss how weird it was that Yokai legs DID THAT. "You eat nothing but gross stuff YOU'RE the weird one, not me."

Obake considered him before offering his hollow rock full of weird not-maggots and rotten fish, causing Hiro to recoil.

"So let's see if I understand this correctly," Obake said, ticking off his long not-claws. "Dragons don't eat rice, they don't like treated fish, and you lot don't drink tea at all." Arch a not-eyeridge at that, glancing away briefly. "I don't know why that last one strikes me hardest, but it does to some extent. So am I to understand that dragons are obligate carnivores, most likely solely piscivorous?"

Hiro gave him a blank look, pretty sure Obake had stopped using real words.

Obake sighed, pointed at Hiro's dinner. "Fish. Do dragons eat nothing but fish?"

Hiro looked at the fish—put a paw around some of it and growled at Obake. "Mine—it's not my fault you eat all that gross stuff."

Obake considered the action, Hiro watching just in case he decided he was going to try for the fish anyway.

"Then why do you raid us?" Obake asked seriously. "Don't tell me it's for revenge, you lot were attacking us long before the Yokai even existed. Why attack us if you eat none of our food, when there's a whole ocean of fish for you to find?"

Hiro opened his mouth, snout wrinkling in aggravation—face crumpled when what Obake said sank in.

"That's…not what Mountain-King told us," he said slowly, thinking. Mountain-King told them that the Yokai were an old foe that would happily slay them all if caught unawares, that stealing from them was fair play.

But according to Obake, dragons had been raiding them…since before the Yokai.

He absently pawed his fish away from Obake, turning this over—the Yokai had always been a popular scare-you story, he had practically hatched out hearing those stories…but he was a very young dragon, to be fair, barely fledged—and broke his wingbone on his first big flight like a complete idiot.

"No wait that was YOUR fault," Hiro said, glaring at Obake.

"What?" Obake asked mildly, still eating that gross stuff HOW did Yokai even live on that? "Does the truth hurt?"

Truth? That would imply that Mountain-King was lying. It was more likely that this Yokai was lying, part of a big endgame to steal his hide.

Except Hiro could fully believe that Mountain-King was lying—Mountain-King was cruel and greedy and awful.

And weirdly enough, he could believe that Obake was telling the truth, at least on this thing. He seemed inclined to be honest with him, mostly, although Hiro could tell that wasn't how he normally behaved—the way his mouth would twist, the not-scale-probably-not-hide around his stubby muzzle wrinkled, they way he'd squint an eye with not-eyeridges moving…he was used to being evasive and silver-tongued. Hiro would bet a whole turn's worth of fish that Obake was comfortable lying, could do so with a straight face—it was when he was telling the truth that he gained little tells.

Which meant the truth was that Mountain-King was lying, and that perhaps….

You create your own worst enemy. That was what Older-Light-Fury said, what Older-Brother said whenever Hiro got into a squabble with another hatchling—be nice, be good, be understanding, because to do otherwise was to make the other dragon view you as an enemy to be bested.

By this logic, Mountain-King had created the Yokai.

Huff, feeling his snout and eyeridges smooth—that made sense, that actually made perfect sense—

How to tell Obake though?

Glance at the Yokai, trying to puzzle this out—noted he was almost done with his yuck-meal and hastened to eat the rest of the fish before Obake decided that yes, actual fish was much better. That had been his mistake, not Hiro's.

"And now I'm wondering if it's possible for dragons to choke," Obake said drily, draining the last of his leaf-water before standing, taking the piece of rock that Hiro was quickly licking free of flavor hey—

Huff at him before padding around the Yokai-nest again, turning over this new wrinkle. Say Mountain-King was responsible for the Yokai's existence. That meant….

That meant if they stopped attacking, the Yokai would have no reason to fight them. Maybe….

He felt an electric tingling through his scales, like that time he had jumped into a tide pool after a Seashocker had swam by—if they could stop the fighting, then maybe all the Yokai could be friendly! No more fighting, no more worrying about a Yokai stealing your hide—

He really needed more information before he went too far on this theory.

Huff again, pad back over to Obake, busy with water and the strange rocks—put his front paws on the fire-ledge before huffing at him.

"Now what, Hiro?"

Huff again, thinking—Obake was scarily good at guessing what he thought, but at the same time he just didn't understand. Hiro was figuring out Yokainese well enough, but Obake didn't seem to understand anything of Dragonese. There was still a big language barrier there. Look back at the ash—

Saw the squiggly that meant fish, considered it before looking back at the second squiggly Obake had written, that obviously didn't mean fish. And then those big dry-leaves full of squigglies…they had to mean something….

That dry-leaf that Obake had thrown away—pad around, sniffing for it—found it, pawed it out—

He had to be careful, dry leaves crumbled under his paws—but this one didn't, despite crackling in similar fashion. Try to smooth it out—

More squigglies—squigglies that had to mean something, because Obake had reacted to it—

There was something here. He was close, within pouncing range of an understanding, of a concept, an idea—he just had to figure out how to make that final lunge.

Gingerly pick up the dry-leaf in his mouth, go back to the fire-ledge, stand up with front paws on it—put the dry-leaf down and bark at Obake, looking at the one rock like he was thinking about filling it with leaf-water again.

"What, Hiro," Obake sighed, looking at him—tipping his head in interest when he saw what Hiro had.

Hiro patted the dry-leaf gingerly. "What is this? You reacted to it, so it must mean something—what does it mean?" Look interested—easy to do because he was—maybe Obake read body language like he did.

Obake sighed, filled the rock with leaf-water again before taking the dry-leaf away, looking at it for a long time. Hiro took the moment to analyze his expression—eyes narrowed, a tiny line between his not-eyeridges, mouth thin. Leaning into his blank lying face.

"Nothing you need to concern yourself with," Obake said finally, putting the dry-leaf into the fire—Hiro couldn't help the squeak of surprise at that.

Could definitely help the glare at him though, ears and nubs flat.

"What?" Obake demanded. "You couldn't possibly want that."

"You just lied to me," Hiro accused. "Don't do that—I can't get out of this if I can't trust you." Because if he couldn't trust Obake in the little things, he couldn't trust him in the big things.

And he needed to still be able to hold onto the belief that his wing could be healed.

Obake seemed confused, consternated when Hiro pointedly looked at the crumbling dry-leaf, resigned when Hiro looked back at him.

"That isn't something you need to concern yourself with," Obake insisted, indicating the fire. "I can take care of myself, thank you very much."

It wasn't an explanation, and Hiro wanted an explanation….But it wasn't a lie either—Obake's little tells were back.

Huff, looked back at the fire that had totally eaten the dry-leaf now. He wanted to know more, but he was going to have to resign himself to the fact that that, at least, was to remain a mystery for now. Look down at the squiggles in the ash—

Looked back up at Obake, putting a paw near the second squiggle. "What does this mean?"

Obake tipped his head the other way, seeming vaguely relieved that Hiro had dropped the dry-leaf discussion for now, expression considering and calculating. Hiro spent the time Obake took to apparently have an internal debate trying to figure out if he had ever seen such an expression on anything else before.

He wasn't sure—it was the sort of calculating he figured a Skrill, hunter of Night Furies, must have: shrewd, conniving, cruel—a hunter that knew it hunted intelligent prey and spent its spare time picking apart how to best it.

And then it was gone, mostly, Obake having apparently come to a decision—perhaps of whether or not Hiro would understand what he was trying to say. Watch as he crouched down, smoothed out the ash, wrote the second squiggle in.

"Hiro," he said, indicating the squiggle. "This symbol means Hiro. It's a name, an identifier—it represents you, basically."

Hiro looked at the squiggle, intrigued—so he got a gift-name and a squiggle? How did all this work? No wait—wait…it was the same thing, except…Yokai had two languages, their spoken one and this squiggly one—Obake wrote this, had said it had meaning—had said it meant him. Like how the other squiggle meant fish. Which meant….

The squiggles did have meaning, did have purpose, was a language—one he could learn and figure out.

But first…he needed to know more than just the one squiggle.

Look over the second squiggle carefully, painstakingly imitate it, carefully copying into the ash—finally look up at Obake, tap at the ash softly before patting his own chest.

"Hiro," he said, before patting the ash near the second squiggle. "Hiro."

Obake looked pleased—no, wait, maybe that was too base a term—excited, like Hiro had just laid out a whole scheme that promised to be convoluted and challenging but totally epic in the end. He…wanted to be able to communicate with Hiro as badly as Hiro wanted to communicate with him.

It was enough to prompt Hiro to poke him in the leg, pat at the Hiro squiggle, then himself, then Obake again, leaving an ashy pawprint on his leg. "Obake?" Make a little squiggle, pat at Obake's leg again. "Obake?"

Obake made a pensive noise as he puzzled out what it was Hiro was after. "No," he said finally, smoothing out the squiggle Hiro had drawn. "This is how you would write Obake."

His ears flipped up, twitched—there was something kind of…off…about the way he said that. Before it had always been conclusively this means this. Not this is how you write it. This…almost intimated that there was something different about this…but then why wouldn't Hiro's squiggle be different?

Imitate it as best he could, tap it before tapping his squiggle, looking at Obake. "How is your name different from mine?"

Obake looked the squiggles over, looked at him, up at the ceiling where the faint noise of rain was still persisting.

"No attacks tonight," he said, sounding distracted—looked back down at Hiro's irritated huff. "What?"

In response, Hiro wrote his and Obake's squiggles again, looked at him. "What's the difference?"

Obake sighed, got up, refilled his hollow rock with the leaf-water, drained it, filled it up again before he eased back down.

"This feels like it's going to take a while," he said in response to Hiro's questioning chuff. Okay, that was fine, he had time.

A twitch danced up and down his hide at that thought—he was in a Yokai-nest, had been unconscious in one, and he had no problem with the situation, was actually glad for it and felt safe in here. Why? Obake hadn't suddenly ceased to be dangerous in the last five minutes.

Neither had Hiro. Neither had Older-Brother or Older-Light-Fury, the whole time he had been back with them and warm together in a cave. Maybe that was it—dragons were dangerous. Yokai were dangerous. But in reaching an understanding, an acknowledgement that they were mutually dangerous but able to coexist and communicate anyway….

Huff at the fact that this needed him to be more fluent in Yokainese and the scribble-language, that he had no idea what he needed to learn first to ask his questions—this would take time, an aggravating amount of time, the sort of time he couldn't squish into a night.

Obake tipped his hollow rock like he was in agreement. "You have until I finish this. So, let's try this again."

Yes, let's. He'd figure this out, he'd conquer this new puzzle.

He just had to stay focused.