They were cold, the hands against his neck. They surrounded it gently
at first, almost like a lover's caress. He would have relaxed if he could
have gotten the bad feeling out of his mind and the smell of near death out
of his nose. They squeezed, and his eyes opened to blackness. They squeezed
harder and harder until he could barely breathe. He gasped for air and felt
a forgien feeling enter his body. It was cold, but yet warm, and it told
ever inch of him to beware. He gasped for air again . . . and a roaring
pain tore through him as something blew his body apart.
Kurama woke gasping for breath as he sat up in bed. His white T-shirt that he had sleepily thrown over himself stuck to his chest, wet with sweat. His long, red hair stuck through his T-shirt to his back. His whole body was sweating, and every inch of him was wet. His hands flew to his neck where he had felt the hands from his dream. There was nothing there except his own flesh, and he felt like laughing . . . almost.
"Why do I still think of that?" he asked his walls. "It happened a long time ago." That was not entirely true, but it made him feel better to think that way. The last match of the Dark Tournament had pitted him against Karasu, a demon who transferred his Spirit Energy into his oppnent's body and ignited it, causing the explosion Kurama had witnessed in his dream.
"It's almost midnight, Suichi, what are you still doing up?" Kurama jumped at the sound of his mother's voice. Shiori stood in the doorway, looking at her son with her hands on her hips. "And why are you all wet?"
"Sorry, kasaan, I had a nightmare. It woke me, and I guess that I drenched myself in sweat." Kurama knew he sounded rather like a five-year- old, but it was better than thinking up some other lie. He'd lied to her all his life.
"You had better not be lying," she warned, and stepped out of the room. Kurama put his hands to his forehead, frustrated. What else could he say? He could see it now;
"Hey, sorry, kasaan, but a couple of months ago, four friends and I went to this thing called the Dark Tournament, where thousands of demons fight for a chance at the prize. In the last match, I fought against this guy who can blow people up just by touching them. Yeah, and the nightmare was about right before the match, where he could have blown me up if he hadn't wanted to fight me. Oh, and while we're at it, I'm really Yoko Kurama, the legendary bandit in the Makai, the demon world. Is there anything else I could talk to you about before you go back to bed?"
Kurama put his hands behind his head and put his hands behind his head as he laid back down on his pillow. He had no intention of going back to sleep, not right now anyway. Months after the Dark Tournament, and he still thought about that fight every day. And every day, he remembered how close he had come to his death, and thought about how lucky he was to have made it through. He sighed, and wished he could talk to one of his friends. Kuwabara was too stupid to understand the fear the dream brought upon him, and Hiei would just, "Hn," and call him a stupid fox.
"He might just be right about that," Kurama said, imagining Hiei's reaction to what he would have to say. "I might just be a stupid fox, to still be thinking about Karasu, even though the idiot's dead." Kurama looked around his room. "Isn't he?"
Kurama wasn't exactly sure how he had gotten back to sleep, all he knew was that the next time he looked at the clock, it was around eight in the morning. Good thing it's a Saturday, he thought as he got dressed and went downstairs. His mother was in the kitchen, cooking breakfast.
"Smells good," he said. She jumped and turned around.
"Suichi! I didn't hear you come down," she said. I wonder why, Kurama thought sarcasticly. Might it be because I used to be a legendary theif? Nah. He smiled and shook his head at his own thoughts. "Did you ever get back to sleep last night?"
"Yeah," Kurama said, helping himself to a piece of the toast she had just put on the table. "Though I don't really know how."
"You were probably just tired," she said, putting a plate of eggs in front of him. She looked closer at him. "You seem worried about something."
"Worried?" Kurama asked, his voice rising an octave. "Who's worried? I'm not worried, I have nothing to worry about." Can she really see right through me? Kurama wondered. How can she know that I'm worried about demons coming back to life. Not that it's possible, he assured himself hurridly. He forced himself to grin as he swallowed the last of his eggs. He knew it looked slightly strained, but it was better than nothing.
"Are you going out today?" Shiori asked.
"Yep," Kurama said. "I'll be back before dinner." And with that, he left the house.
"What do you mean? How is this possible?" Koenma glared at Botan from across his desk. She looked slightly nervous, but she repeated her story to Koenma.
"I went to guide another soul to the Spirit World," she began. "But when I went to the living world, a soul escaped from the Spirit World."
"I don't know how that's possible," Koenma said. "Unless the person was really powerful in life."
"He was," Botan said. She was afraid of what Koenma might do if she told him who exactly it was.
"Do you know who he was . . . ?" Koenma said, almost as afraid as Botan was.
"Yes . . . " she said.
"Who was it then?" Koenma demanded. "Spit it out!"
"It was Karasu, Koenma sir," she said, and winced, remembering, as Kurama had, the battle where he had died.
"W-what?" Koenma asked. "Not that Karasu." He moved his hands to indicate an explosion. "Not the one that Kurama killed?"
"The very same," Botan said. "He must have wanted to come back to get revenge on Kurama."
"I have to agree," Koenma said.
"Should I inform Yusuke?"
"No, not yet," Koenma said. "I want to be sure of what he's after before we make a move."
"Is that wise, sir?" Jorge, the blue ogre asked.
"Of course!" Koenma said. "I am the great Koenma!! When have I ever been wrong?"
"Do you want the short list, or the long?" Jorge asked.
"Shut up, Ogre!" Koenma said. "This time I'm sure of what I'm doing! Leave it to me!!" He watched as Botan and Jorge left the room-Botan to go back to her job, and Jorge to get Koenma more paperwork. "At least, I think I know what I'm doing."
Kurama woke gasping for breath as he sat up in bed. His white T-shirt that he had sleepily thrown over himself stuck to his chest, wet with sweat. His long, red hair stuck through his T-shirt to his back. His whole body was sweating, and every inch of him was wet. His hands flew to his neck where he had felt the hands from his dream. There was nothing there except his own flesh, and he felt like laughing . . . almost.
"Why do I still think of that?" he asked his walls. "It happened a long time ago." That was not entirely true, but it made him feel better to think that way. The last match of the Dark Tournament had pitted him against Karasu, a demon who transferred his Spirit Energy into his oppnent's body and ignited it, causing the explosion Kurama had witnessed in his dream.
"It's almost midnight, Suichi, what are you still doing up?" Kurama jumped at the sound of his mother's voice. Shiori stood in the doorway, looking at her son with her hands on her hips. "And why are you all wet?"
"Sorry, kasaan, I had a nightmare. It woke me, and I guess that I drenched myself in sweat." Kurama knew he sounded rather like a five-year- old, but it was better than thinking up some other lie. He'd lied to her all his life.
"You had better not be lying," she warned, and stepped out of the room. Kurama put his hands to his forehead, frustrated. What else could he say? He could see it now;
"Hey, sorry, kasaan, but a couple of months ago, four friends and I went to this thing called the Dark Tournament, where thousands of demons fight for a chance at the prize. In the last match, I fought against this guy who can blow people up just by touching them. Yeah, and the nightmare was about right before the match, where he could have blown me up if he hadn't wanted to fight me. Oh, and while we're at it, I'm really Yoko Kurama, the legendary bandit in the Makai, the demon world. Is there anything else I could talk to you about before you go back to bed?"
Kurama put his hands behind his head and put his hands behind his head as he laid back down on his pillow. He had no intention of going back to sleep, not right now anyway. Months after the Dark Tournament, and he still thought about that fight every day. And every day, he remembered how close he had come to his death, and thought about how lucky he was to have made it through. He sighed, and wished he could talk to one of his friends. Kuwabara was too stupid to understand the fear the dream brought upon him, and Hiei would just, "Hn," and call him a stupid fox.
"He might just be right about that," Kurama said, imagining Hiei's reaction to what he would have to say. "I might just be a stupid fox, to still be thinking about Karasu, even though the idiot's dead." Kurama looked around his room. "Isn't he?"
Kurama wasn't exactly sure how he had gotten back to sleep, all he knew was that the next time he looked at the clock, it was around eight in the morning. Good thing it's a Saturday, he thought as he got dressed and went downstairs. His mother was in the kitchen, cooking breakfast.
"Smells good," he said. She jumped and turned around.
"Suichi! I didn't hear you come down," she said. I wonder why, Kurama thought sarcasticly. Might it be because I used to be a legendary theif? Nah. He smiled and shook his head at his own thoughts. "Did you ever get back to sleep last night?"
"Yeah," Kurama said, helping himself to a piece of the toast she had just put on the table. "Though I don't really know how."
"You were probably just tired," she said, putting a plate of eggs in front of him. She looked closer at him. "You seem worried about something."
"Worried?" Kurama asked, his voice rising an octave. "Who's worried? I'm not worried, I have nothing to worry about." Can she really see right through me? Kurama wondered. How can she know that I'm worried about demons coming back to life. Not that it's possible, he assured himself hurridly. He forced himself to grin as he swallowed the last of his eggs. He knew it looked slightly strained, but it was better than nothing.
"Are you going out today?" Shiori asked.
"Yep," Kurama said. "I'll be back before dinner." And with that, he left the house.
"What do you mean? How is this possible?" Koenma glared at Botan from across his desk. She looked slightly nervous, but she repeated her story to Koenma.
"I went to guide another soul to the Spirit World," she began. "But when I went to the living world, a soul escaped from the Spirit World."
"I don't know how that's possible," Koenma said. "Unless the person was really powerful in life."
"He was," Botan said. She was afraid of what Koenma might do if she told him who exactly it was.
"Do you know who he was . . . ?" Koenma said, almost as afraid as Botan was.
"Yes . . . " she said.
"Who was it then?" Koenma demanded. "Spit it out!"
"It was Karasu, Koenma sir," she said, and winced, remembering, as Kurama had, the battle where he had died.
"W-what?" Koenma asked. "Not that Karasu." He moved his hands to indicate an explosion. "Not the one that Kurama killed?"
"The very same," Botan said. "He must have wanted to come back to get revenge on Kurama."
"I have to agree," Koenma said.
"Should I inform Yusuke?"
"No, not yet," Koenma said. "I want to be sure of what he's after before we make a move."
"Is that wise, sir?" Jorge, the blue ogre asked.
"Of course!" Koenma said. "I am the great Koenma!! When have I ever been wrong?"
"Do you want the short list, or the long?" Jorge asked.
"Shut up, Ogre!" Koenma said. "This time I'm sure of what I'm doing! Leave it to me!!" He watched as Botan and Jorge left the room-Botan to go back to her job, and Jorge to get Koenma more paperwork. "At least, I think I know what I'm doing."
