Disclaimer: Too poor to own Yu Yu Hakusho...
Quote of the Week: "What is it about watching stuff blow up that makes the American heart swell with pride and glee?" - me.
Happy fourth (although it's a bit late), and I hope you guys have been enjoying the three-day weekend. I sure am, 'cause I don't have to ride in my step-dad's work van, on a camping chair that's been strapped to the shelves with bungee cords (without a seatbelt), while hurtling down the highway at 80 mph.
But enough about me, how 'bout you guys?
Replies to Reviewers!
Azuredragoness: Be afraid, be very afraid...
Ryuu no Furui Yami: ... don't forget to breathe, there, Ryuu. Air is good. Air is your friend.
Pegacorn: Oh, yes, it is awkward for poor Hiei-san... but he's taking it well. Aren't you Hiei?
Hiei: Glares and pulls out katana for 18 Jagan slash
...or not...
Ryu-sama: Hiei could be a good dad if he dropped the tough act more often, but I think he got all pissed 'cause Yusuke claimed he had become a surrogate "mother". For the hatchling, it doesn't yet know the difference between mother and father, so to it, Hiei's "Maaa."
And a note here: The DnK series has ended. Sniffle Many thanks to Kia, who created such a widely loved fic; and to those of you who haven't read her stuff, do so, right now, read this chapter some other day if you have to. If you don't at least make an effort to read her work, I shall smite you.
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"Ooooh! What a cutie!" Yukimi squealed, as soon as Hiei opened the door. The Jaganshi scowled at her, his hair standing on end, but the dragon specialist swept right past him and cuddled the little hatchling that was resting on the coffee table. Relaxing a bit, Hiei left the door open behind him, and looked up at Yukimi, his face totally serious. "Take it if you want."
"Maaaa!" The dragonling flew from Yukimi's arms, curling around Hiei's shoulder, its white skin contrasting against the demon's black cloak. The screen door slammed shut as Touya followed Yukimi, a bag slung over his shoulder. "I'd say its alright quite attached to you, Hiei."
"That's right! It's already imprinted you as its mother!" His blood-red gaze was directed at the two of them, utter loathing at the title that had been assigned to him, and his arm twitched, as if ready to slice them down the middle at any second. Sensing his anger, Yukimi backed away, edging behind Touya, who was nearly four inches shorter than her. "N-not that that's a bad thing, Hiei-san... Very few people are able to imprint young dragons so quickly." The ice master nodded in agreement, and peered closer at the hatchling, who was now nuzzling the back of its "mother's" neck. "It does look a bit like Cecilia, actually... well, mostly the same body structure, at least." The dragon stretched her neck out, turning her head to the side as Touya scratched it behind it's fin-like ears; the ice master gently lifted the hatchling from Hiei's shoulder and let it curl up in his arms before depositing the youngster on the coffee table.
Yukimi got right to work. Taking a small penlight from her bag, she peered in each of the dragonling's amazingly deep eyes, down it's throat, and then, putting the penlight down, gently stretched each one of its wings, moving it up and down in the socket. She ran two fingers down the hatchling's spine, checking to make sure it was aligned correctly, then studied the claws and tendons in its feet. Giving the young dragon a soft pat on the head, Yukimi turned towards Hiei, who was standing in the corner pretending to not care whether the hatchling was healthy or not. "Well, everything is okay. Seems like she'll be just as healthy as her mother, despite her crossed bloodlines."
Both Touya and Hiei just stared, then the fire demon finally asked, "Excuse me?"
"What?" With a surprised yelp, the young woman ducked her head as the little dragonling flapped up to Hiei's shoulder, then got out her notebook and a pen with zeal. "Wow! She's flying already, and she hatched less than twenty-four hours ago!"
Hiei, however, didn't even blink as his adopted dragon rested on his shoulder. "Are you sure?"
"Well I know she hatched late last night, after I left... believe me, she's flying."
"No, about the gender!"
"Oh, that." Yukimi continued to take notes, not even bothering to look up, then inclined her head. "Yep, that's a girl; the hips are wider, more slender neck and tail, and she doesn't have any spurs on the back legs or ankle."
"...You're kidding me." He tenderly pushed the dragon's nose away from the nape of his neck, where she was nuzzling him, and stared straight at Yukimi. With a shiver, she looked up and cringed under his steely glare (and she had thought Touya could be cold). "Hey, don't look at me like that. First of all, it's creepy, second, it's... well, it's still creepy! Besides, be happy about it; females are easier to raise - they don't cause nearly as much trouble and pick up on things more quickly." The two males stayed quiet, Hiei absent-mindedly scratching the dragon under her chin, Touya stony-faced; the normally stoic ice master, however, looked at the door behind Yukimi, caught a familiar glimpse of red, and barely had time to duck out of the way before a fuzzy meteor roared past.
"Agh... Touya, you're definitely getting' better at dodgin'," Jin picked himself up from behind the kitchen island, rubbing his sore head and, after setting a few overturned stools back, cleverly blocking the small dent in the wood his horn had made. Touya stood up, warily watching his old companion for signs of a bone-crushing hug, like the one that had been awarded to him every time he dropped by the dorms or when Jin had just decided to "stop for a visit" (which was occurring more and more often as the weather had cleared up considerably). "And you're just as reckless as ever. If I hadn't known better, I'd say you'd been slacking off ever since you came here."
The smile fell from Jin's face, and his ears drooped. "W-well, I haven't... much..." Even his red hair, which gave the impression that he was constantly in some wind tunnel, wilted. "Besides, you should lighten up a bit, yerself."
"I'd love to, Jin, but there hasn't been much time to. Surely you've felt the tension that's built up around campus, between the teachers and staff; something is bound to happen... I don't know if you can handle it, though."
"An' whaddya mean by that, you cold-hearted twit?" The wind master's voice held an unusually angry tone despite his highlands accent, and a small breeze, one that lifted the hair from the demon's sky blue eyes and made the pages of the manga magazine on the coffee table rustle, proved that Touya had indeed struck a nerve.
Both shinobi shared a look, their auras easily felt by not only Yukimi and Hiei, but the dragonling as well, and Jin, his shoulders slumped, went out the front door, letting it slam shut behind him. Touya watched his long- time friend go, his blue eyes unwavering, and turned back to Yukimi and Hiei. "I should get back to the house; that Enfield has come back, and I'm afraid her offspring have come along as well." With a final scratch behind the hatchling's fin-like ears, he bowed his head to the fire demon and human girl, then made his way out the door.
"What just happened?" Holly peered over the staircase railing; Kyuro balanced carefully on her shoulders. "I saw Jin take off, but he looked pretty upset."
Yukimi shrugged, shaking her head in frustration as she hurriedly packed away the penlight and notebook, grumbling as the small scale that was also stuffed inside started to slip out. "In my opinion, it's probably better to stay out of it, Holly. Jin's... well, he just needs time to sort it out on his own. Self-confidence issues and all that."
"I take it him and Touya had a spat?" Kyuro leaped down from Holly's shoulder, sliding down the banister and coming to a graceful landing as he propelled himself from the end. Trotting past their feet, tail high in the air, the black cat hopped up on the couch and made himself comfortable, kneading the fabric between his paws; with a wide yawn, he said, "Something was bound to snap. Don't worry; I did the same thing with my old buddies all the time...so, yeah." The familiar stared off into space, perhaps wandering through old memories, good and bad, and lowered his head on the pillow, his green eyes still unblinking.
With a shake of her head, the witch ran back down the hallway, returning at the top of the stairs with her broom in hand. Straddling it, she kicked off from the stairs, floating downwards and gaining speed; Hiei quietly opened the door and gave Holly a curt nod as the broom zoomed past. Once outside, she climbed up high above the ground and scanned the skies for Jin.
"Well, good luck to her." Yukimi, seeing as the tension in the house had faded with the leave of the shinobi and Holly, went back to her bag and took out the electronic scale. Picking up the dragonling, who reluctantly unlatched her claws from Hiei's shirt, she placed the dragon on it, keeping one hand on her fragile collarbone to keep her from moving. She felt around in her bag for the notebook and brought it out, pulling a spare pen from behind her ear; once she had recorded the dragonling's weight (which was more difficult than it sounded, since the little creature continually played with the buttons on the scale, fascinated by the noises it made) , the hold on her collarbone was released, and with a flap of her white wings, the dragonling was again perched on Hiei's shoulder, now sniffing through his black hair.
"I really have to go now, but I'll check up every other day or-so." The bag was once again neatly packed, and Yukimi made her way to the door. "Oh, and Hiei," The fire demon inclined his head at mention of his name. "Just... well, be gentle with her. She is young, after all."
"Hn."
"Yeah, I'll see you later." With a quick wave to the Admarant sisters and Kurama, who were out on Lyra's balcony, Yukimi walked down the drive and out of sight.
"Hiei, what is that thing on your head?" Chrysanthemum stood up on the tips of her paws, trying to make out the Jaganshi's silhouette through the leaves of an old oak. Hiei gave his traditional "hn" and crossed his arms, ignoring the stares of his companions below and the smell of the food that was on their table. For nearly two days he had to skip classes, which wasn't of much concern to him, to take care of the dragonling; he hadn't even given her a name, choosing to instead call her over with a whistle. Today, however, Rachel had forced him to go and locked the dragonling in his room with water and food for the day; needless to say, she had broken out (by means probably better left to the imagination) and instantly took refuge on her parent's head.
Not exactly the best condition to socialize in.
"Don't bother about him; Hiei's been in a pretty bad mood ever since he became mother-dearest." Ah, yes... the detective... better put a double check beside his name on the "people whom to wreak havoc upon" list. Chrysanthemum placed her lunch tray on the picnic table and sat down, coiling her tail around her waist; her twin brother was there (playing with his food... again.), as was Justin, Lark, Kurama, and Yusuke. The fox smiled up at Hiei, probably trying to make amends for the lack of Yusuke's subtlety, and said, "It's been a trying experience. We couldn't find anything that she would eat for nearly two days."
Yusuke inclined his head in agreement and took a swig of his soda. "Yeah, and then she attacked the garden; turns out that she eats nectar and flowers. Some dragon." Lyonell snickered at this, and his twin tugged on his ear - hard. With a yowl, the cat scooted away from his sister and sulked over his lunch, toying with the macaroni surprise that was heaped upon his plate. "I take it, then, that he's had it rough from you guys?" Justin asked, not at all surprised when Lark and Yusuke nodded.
"Yeah; well, he would have it worse, but he's all scary and stuff." Lark glanced up at Hiei, who was scowling darkly, and ducked her head. "Still, he does make a good parent, sort of." She admitted, and dug her nails into the edge of the table as the fire demon's aura flared. Almost every student in the picnic area looked up at the disturbance, some of them ready to beat down whoever had interrupted them, and the aura simmered with a stern look from Kurama.
"I want to learn how to do that." Lark said, gazing at the fox's work with something between awe and jealousy. Kurama sweatdropped and picked up his tray, standing up as he did so. "Well, if that's your goal in life..."
"Shut up." The younger Admarant sister turned her head from him and pretended to be more interested in a rather large spider that was crawling up the side of the picnic table. Yusuke, however, raised a fist and cheered, "Alright! Kurama did something wrong! Welcome to my world!"
Still quite confused over Lark's sudden mood swing, he backed away and tossed his tray in the trash barrel, then collected his bag from the end of the bench. As he went to leave for class, Lark was suddenly right behind him, mock hurt on her face. "Oh, yeah, leave me all alone with them." She jerked her head towards the guys and Chrysanthemum (who was ready to leave, anyways), then hooked Kurama's arm in hers. "Y'know, I don't get enough love and care around here."
"Uh...um..." There seemed to be no words to explain the current situation, and if Kurama had found any, he doubted Lark would even listen. Giving up with a sigh, he let his head drop. "Go on ahead, Lark."
Wasting not even a second, she ran full speed out of the lunch area, leaving her stunned friends behind and nearly dragging Kurama. The stop was just as sudden, and the fox grabbed hold of a post alongside the pathway to keep from falling. "And... what... was that... for?" He panted. Lark shrugged, breathing just as hard, and smiled. "I just wanted to talk."
"Oh... Is that all?" Kurama let his bag fall off his shoulder and land on the ground with a soft thud, then followed suit. "Now, what's on your mind?"
"Well, you know about finals and stuff?" She gave her roommate just enough time to nod, then continued on. "Y'see, I could use some help in my history and stuff - don't we all - but my sister's been too busy to help me."
"So you want me to help you?"
"Well, no, yes! Ah, crud... how to word this..." She leaned against a tree, twirling a strand of black hair around her finger. "Okay... I do need your help - hey, don't speak yet - but Lyra's been kind of down lately. I'm worried about her."
"So you want me to volunteer to help Lyra, too. That's not a problem-"
"Oh, no, it usually isn't!" Lark waved her hands furiously, forcing the fox to sit back down, and continued. "But we got a letter... from our dad. He says he's run into a bit of trouble and all that - trust me, it happens more often than you think - but Lyra's always really worried about him. It's really thrown her out of the loop this time, though. She found a few spattered drops of blood on the envelope, so of course she's thinking of the worst thing that could possibly happen.
"And all that is killing her chances for getting good grades in her finals. Holly and I tried to help her, but she won't do much else than tell us to worry about our own stuff - which I hate it when she does that, but its not like she can help worrying about us. Kuwabara might've not have told you, but even he tried to cheer her up, and Kyuro's even been less of an ass then he usually is-"
"Yes, I was wondering about that..."
"He's trying to be nice, in his own delusional way. Anywho, you could at least help, right Kurama? Pleeeaaasssee?" Lark latched onto his hand, her expressive eyes nearly tearing up, and the fox nodded. "Uh, I don't mind, really."
"Yes! Kurama, you're such a buddy!" The younger girl wrapped her arms around the fox's waist in a tight hug, and had to be pried off. "Just remember to breathe next time; you were nearly turning red." Lark playfully punched him (which left a very non-playful sting) and jumped to her feet, smoothing down her skirt and hair. "I will, Kurama. But please try to help her as much as possible without shoving it down her throat."
"I take it you've already tried that method?" Kurama chuckled, standing up and retrieving his bag. Lark blushed, then scuffed her sneaker. "No, its not that... okay, yeah, maybe just a smidgen." She held her pointer finger and thumb not much more that a millimeter apart. "But she likes you. Besides, you're the only other person besides her to tame that damn lovebird of hers."
"I take it Salvatore is choosy about Lyra's friends."
"Heck yeah! He's worse than having an over-protective older sibling. He even tried to attack me not too long ago." She held up a hand, the bandaged fingers proof of the little bird's nasty jaw strength, and recoiled it sharply when Kurama tried to get a closer look. "Well, I can make a quick pain-reliever and antibacterial for that. Come to think of it, I better make extra for myself..."
"Thanks, Kurama. Really."
"I told you I don't mind, so go run off to class now." Checking his watch, the redhead grimaced. "Ah, I better hurry up, too; Rachel will have my hide." With a wave, Lark was off, and it didn't take long for her to group up with some other girls in her class.
"Michealangelo?" Kuwabara pushed a vine out of the way; jerking his head back just as the plant's tiny bud blossomed into an equally small purple flower with poisonous stingers nestled around its stigma. Pinching the vine expertly, the flowering end dropped lifelessly at an awkward angle, and Kuwabara continued down the nearly invisible trail.
It didn't take long for the little two-room cabin to come into view. Smoke curled from the rock chimney, despite the seventy-degree weather, and the workbench in front was completely clean. Kuwabara peeked around the corner to make sure that his professor was nowhere in the back, then knocked on the thick wooden door of the cabin. No one answered, but the door swung opend of its own accord and allowed the Japanese teen into the front room.
The rock fireplace, although it looked small from the outside, took up nearly half of one wall, and, since there was no stove in the room, Kuwabara guessed that it was how Michealangelo did his cooking. Even now, a pot hung over the fire on a pair of brackets, flames licking the bottom and yellowish smog pouring out the top. The fireplace was the neatest part of the room; the couch was brown leather, an ode to the old days when the Laird's home was possibly a hunting cabin, and a lumpy pillow and numerous blankets were piled on it, as well as old jeans, shirts, and a tattered book. In the far corner, a rickety wooden table and pair of chairs stood, dirty dishes were piled up on the table, making the worn and stained tablecloth bunch up, and there was an ever bigger mountain in the stone sink under the window.
Walking through the mess, Kuwabara quietly opened the door in the back and stole a look into the other room, blocking his nose from the smell. The Laird was in the middle of bandaging his hand, the clean bandages soaking in some sort of medicine on a writing desk in front of him, and looked up at his pupil with a look of total expectation. "Took you long enough." He took the new bandages out of the bowl of medicine and, with a light growl as the medicine got in his wound, continued to bind his hand, glaring at the spreading smear of red on the beige fabric. "Damn, that stings like hell... well, what are you staring at? And come out of there; you don't need to hide behind the door." Kuwabara gulped, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him, then asked, "What, uh, happened to your hand?"
Lazily staring his pupil in the eye, Michealangelo sighed, then muttered, "Nothing much; accidentally cut myself while trying to cook dinner last night." Picking up a metal tab, he clasped the fabric together and clenched and unclenched his right hand, one eye twitching a little as the knife wound no doubt hurt like hell. "I better clean those knives before I go... it would just make my day if I got some unknown disease while I'm out there. Oh," He looked up at Kuwabara and pointed a finger. "I'll be going on a trip for a while. Might not make it back before finals." Putting a lid on the jar of medicine, he stowed behind a sliding compartment door, and stood up, pushing the chair back in. "Oikawa, I don't know if you've heard of him, offered to take you for finals and reviews. He teaches most of the stuff I've been teaching you, so you should be fine."
"But-!"
"I think he teaches thievery, too, so ask Rogerik."
"How-?" Again Kuwabara was cut off, as his teacher snapped his fingers and a strange creature swooped in through the window, its delicate wings flared out as it landed on top of the writing desk, stretching out its neck so Michealangelo could scratch it on its sphereical head. "Remember this little guy?" Nodding, Kuwabara faintly recalled it as the golem that the Laird had spent hours sculpting.
"Good. Now, take him home and take care of him until I get back."
"Okay, but where-"
Michealangelo had swept out of the room, and was now stuffing some clothes in a ragged-looking backpack. The book followed (along with three other of its brethren), as did one of the thicker blankets, and a small photo frame was tossed in, almost as a last minute thought, since the teacher had been staring at the spot where it had been hidden (under his pillow) for almost a minute before deciding it was worth taking. The golem fluttered around behind its creator, making soft squeaking noises even though it lacked a mouth. Michealangelo waved it away, and it took refuge behind Kuwabara.
"Well, that's all of it. I'll be leaving tomorrow night, so I doubt you'll see me for a while after this class."
"Uh, yeah... but where are you going?" Kuwabara moved the golem away from his head and leaned against the wall by the fireplace. The Laird paused, staring into the fire until he slowly turned around. "Things around here haven't been going smoothly, and there's been talk about 'letting me go'. I'll tell you one thing, though; its gonna get a lot worse around here before it gets any better."
"But isn't firing you a little too much?" Kuwabara sat down on one of the unsturdy chairs, the golem coming to a rest on the table beside him. The laird waved the question off and shrugged. "I got in an argument with the headmaster; besides, parents might not want their children attending a facility that has a necromancer on staff - especially when that self-same facility is having problems with undead monsters."
A muffled ringing came from somewhere near the couch, and Michealangelo twitched at the sound. With a muttered string of curses, he dug through the pile of clothes on the couch, then, with seemingly no luck, moved onto another pile dumped over the ancient coffee table. Searching in the pockets of a leather jacket, he pulled out a gold pocket watch and, flipping it open, looked at the clock face. "Damn. Period's over already. Hey, Kuwabara?" The teen stopped petting the golem and stood up at the sound of his name. "Yeah?"
"Don't tell anyone I'm leaving, hm? It might cause me a few complications." Kuwabara was barely able to nod in agreement before he was shoved out of the cabin, the golem fluttering above his head and making furious shrieking noises. The thick wooden door was shut, and there was the telltale chorus of locks and bolts being fastened.
There was a quiet that not even the songbirds dared to break, and even the golem quieted down, landing softly on the ground. Kuwabara gently picked it up, careful for the many ribbon-like structures protruding from the main body and wings, and strode down the same path he had come from, with an endless stream of thoughts going through his head. But most of all, what had he meant by things were going to get worse?
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Things are starting to pick up at the academy, and that means that the fic is coming to a close... (thank GOD!)
Next time I write something this long, I'm not taking month-long breaks. -.-
Also, my laptop monitor has been almost totally trashed today (7/8/04), so I might not be able to update as soon as I would normally be able to. It's kinda hard to type with only two-and-a-half inches of usable screen... I'm glad I was even able to save this onto disk.
Review if you wish, and flame if you dream for death.
Quote of the Week: "What is it about watching stuff blow up that makes the American heart swell with pride and glee?" - me.
Happy fourth (although it's a bit late), and I hope you guys have been enjoying the three-day weekend. I sure am, 'cause I don't have to ride in my step-dad's work van, on a camping chair that's been strapped to the shelves with bungee cords (without a seatbelt), while hurtling down the highway at 80 mph.
But enough about me, how 'bout you guys?
Replies to Reviewers!
Azuredragoness: Be afraid, be very afraid...
Ryuu no Furui Yami: ... don't forget to breathe, there, Ryuu. Air is good. Air is your friend.
Pegacorn: Oh, yes, it is awkward for poor Hiei-san... but he's taking it well. Aren't you Hiei?
Hiei: Glares and pulls out katana for 18 Jagan slash
...or not...
Ryu-sama: Hiei could be a good dad if he dropped the tough act more often, but I think he got all pissed 'cause Yusuke claimed he had become a surrogate "mother". For the hatchling, it doesn't yet know the difference between mother and father, so to it, Hiei's "Maaa."
And a note here: The DnK series has ended. Sniffle Many thanks to Kia, who created such a widely loved fic; and to those of you who haven't read her stuff, do so, right now, read this chapter some other day if you have to. If you don't at least make an effort to read her work, I shall smite you.
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"Ooooh! What a cutie!" Yukimi squealed, as soon as Hiei opened the door. The Jaganshi scowled at her, his hair standing on end, but the dragon specialist swept right past him and cuddled the little hatchling that was resting on the coffee table. Relaxing a bit, Hiei left the door open behind him, and looked up at Yukimi, his face totally serious. "Take it if you want."
"Maaaa!" The dragonling flew from Yukimi's arms, curling around Hiei's shoulder, its white skin contrasting against the demon's black cloak. The screen door slammed shut as Touya followed Yukimi, a bag slung over his shoulder. "I'd say its alright quite attached to you, Hiei."
"That's right! It's already imprinted you as its mother!" His blood-red gaze was directed at the two of them, utter loathing at the title that had been assigned to him, and his arm twitched, as if ready to slice them down the middle at any second. Sensing his anger, Yukimi backed away, edging behind Touya, who was nearly four inches shorter than her. "N-not that that's a bad thing, Hiei-san... Very few people are able to imprint young dragons so quickly." The ice master nodded in agreement, and peered closer at the hatchling, who was now nuzzling the back of its "mother's" neck. "It does look a bit like Cecilia, actually... well, mostly the same body structure, at least." The dragon stretched her neck out, turning her head to the side as Touya scratched it behind it's fin-like ears; the ice master gently lifted the hatchling from Hiei's shoulder and let it curl up in his arms before depositing the youngster on the coffee table.
Yukimi got right to work. Taking a small penlight from her bag, she peered in each of the dragonling's amazingly deep eyes, down it's throat, and then, putting the penlight down, gently stretched each one of its wings, moving it up and down in the socket. She ran two fingers down the hatchling's spine, checking to make sure it was aligned correctly, then studied the claws and tendons in its feet. Giving the young dragon a soft pat on the head, Yukimi turned towards Hiei, who was standing in the corner pretending to not care whether the hatchling was healthy or not. "Well, everything is okay. Seems like she'll be just as healthy as her mother, despite her crossed bloodlines."
Both Touya and Hiei just stared, then the fire demon finally asked, "Excuse me?"
"What?" With a surprised yelp, the young woman ducked her head as the little dragonling flapped up to Hiei's shoulder, then got out her notebook and a pen with zeal. "Wow! She's flying already, and she hatched less than twenty-four hours ago!"
Hiei, however, didn't even blink as his adopted dragon rested on his shoulder. "Are you sure?"
"Well I know she hatched late last night, after I left... believe me, she's flying."
"No, about the gender!"
"Oh, that." Yukimi continued to take notes, not even bothering to look up, then inclined her head. "Yep, that's a girl; the hips are wider, more slender neck and tail, and she doesn't have any spurs on the back legs or ankle."
"...You're kidding me." He tenderly pushed the dragon's nose away from the nape of his neck, where she was nuzzling him, and stared straight at Yukimi. With a shiver, she looked up and cringed under his steely glare (and she had thought Touya could be cold). "Hey, don't look at me like that. First of all, it's creepy, second, it's... well, it's still creepy! Besides, be happy about it; females are easier to raise - they don't cause nearly as much trouble and pick up on things more quickly." The two males stayed quiet, Hiei absent-mindedly scratching the dragon under her chin, Touya stony-faced; the normally stoic ice master, however, looked at the door behind Yukimi, caught a familiar glimpse of red, and barely had time to duck out of the way before a fuzzy meteor roared past.
"Agh... Touya, you're definitely getting' better at dodgin'," Jin picked himself up from behind the kitchen island, rubbing his sore head and, after setting a few overturned stools back, cleverly blocking the small dent in the wood his horn had made. Touya stood up, warily watching his old companion for signs of a bone-crushing hug, like the one that had been awarded to him every time he dropped by the dorms or when Jin had just decided to "stop for a visit" (which was occurring more and more often as the weather had cleared up considerably). "And you're just as reckless as ever. If I hadn't known better, I'd say you'd been slacking off ever since you came here."
The smile fell from Jin's face, and his ears drooped. "W-well, I haven't... much..." Even his red hair, which gave the impression that he was constantly in some wind tunnel, wilted. "Besides, you should lighten up a bit, yerself."
"I'd love to, Jin, but there hasn't been much time to. Surely you've felt the tension that's built up around campus, between the teachers and staff; something is bound to happen... I don't know if you can handle it, though."
"An' whaddya mean by that, you cold-hearted twit?" The wind master's voice held an unusually angry tone despite his highlands accent, and a small breeze, one that lifted the hair from the demon's sky blue eyes and made the pages of the manga magazine on the coffee table rustle, proved that Touya had indeed struck a nerve.
Both shinobi shared a look, their auras easily felt by not only Yukimi and Hiei, but the dragonling as well, and Jin, his shoulders slumped, went out the front door, letting it slam shut behind him. Touya watched his long- time friend go, his blue eyes unwavering, and turned back to Yukimi and Hiei. "I should get back to the house; that Enfield has come back, and I'm afraid her offspring have come along as well." With a final scratch behind the hatchling's fin-like ears, he bowed his head to the fire demon and human girl, then made his way out the door.
"What just happened?" Holly peered over the staircase railing; Kyuro balanced carefully on her shoulders. "I saw Jin take off, but he looked pretty upset."
Yukimi shrugged, shaking her head in frustration as she hurriedly packed away the penlight and notebook, grumbling as the small scale that was also stuffed inside started to slip out. "In my opinion, it's probably better to stay out of it, Holly. Jin's... well, he just needs time to sort it out on his own. Self-confidence issues and all that."
"I take it him and Touya had a spat?" Kyuro leaped down from Holly's shoulder, sliding down the banister and coming to a graceful landing as he propelled himself from the end. Trotting past their feet, tail high in the air, the black cat hopped up on the couch and made himself comfortable, kneading the fabric between his paws; with a wide yawn, he said, "Something was bound to snap. Don't worry; I did the same thing with my old buddies all the time...so, yeah." The familiar stared off into space, perhaps wandering through old memories, good and bad, and lowered his head on the pillow, his green eyes still unblinking.
With a shake of her head, the witch ran back down the hallway, returning at the top of the stairs with her broom in hand. Straddling it, she kicked off from the stairs, floating downwards and gaining speed; Hiei quietly opened the door and gave Holly a curt nod as the broom zoomed past. Once outside, she climbed up high above the ground and scanned the skies for Jin.
"Well, good luck to her." Yukimi, seeing as the tension in the house had faded with the leave of the shinobi and Holly, went back to her bag and took out the electronic scale. Picking up the dragonling, who reluctantly unlatched her claws from Hiei's shirt, she placed the dragon on it, keeping one hand on her fragile collarbone to keep her from moving. She felt around in her bag for the notebook and brought it out, pulling a spare pen from behind her ear; once she had recorded the dragonling's weight (which was more difficult than it sounded, since the little creature continually played with the buttons on the scale, fascinated by the noises it made) , the hold on her collarbone was released, and with a flap of her white wings, the dragonling was again perched on Hiei's shoulder, now sniffing through his black hair.
"I really have to go now, but I'll check up every other day or-so." The bag was once again neatly packed, and Yukimi made her way to the door. "Oh, and Hiei," The fire demon inclined his head at mention of his name. "Just... well, be gentle with her. She is young, after all."
"Hn."
"Yeah, I'll see you later." With a quick wave to the Admarant sisters and Kurama, who were out on Lyra's balcony, Yukimi walked down the drive and out of sight.
"Hiei, what is that thing on your head?" Chrysanthemum stood up on the tips of her paws, trying to make out the Jaganshi's silhouette through the leaves of an old oak. Hiei gave his traditional "hn" and crossed his arms, ignoring the stares of his companions below and the smell of the food that was on their table. For nearly two days he had to skip classes, which wasn't of much concern to him, to take care of the dragonling; he hadn't even given her a name, choosing to instead call her over with a whistle. Today, however, Rachel had forced him to go and locked the dragonling in his room with water and food for the day; needless to say, she had broken out (by means probably better left to the imagination) and instantly took refuge on her parent's head.
Not exactly the best condition to socialize in.
"Don't bother about him; Hiei's been in a pretty bad mood ever since he became mother-dearest." Ah, yes... the detective... better put a double check beside his name on the "people whom to wreak havoc upon" list. Chrysanthemum placed her lunch tray on the picnic table and sat down, coiling her tail around her waist; her twin brother was there (playing with his food... again.), as was Justin, Lark, Kurama, and Yusuke. The fox smiled up at Hiei, probably trying to make amends for the lack of Yusuke's subtlety, and said, "It's been a trying experience. We couldn't find anything that she would eat for nearly two days."
Yusuke inclined his head in agreement and took a swig of his soda. "Yeah, and then she attacked the garden; turns out that she eats nectar and flowers. Some dragon." Lyonell snickered at this, and his twin tugged on his ear - hard. With a yowl, the cat scooted away from his sister and sulked over his lunch, toying with the macaroni surprise that was heaped upon his plate. "I take it, then, that he's had it rough from you guys?" Justin asked, not at all surprised when Lark and Yusuke nodded.
"Yeah; well, he would have it worse, but he's all scary and stuff." Lark glanced up at Hiei, who was scowling darkly, and ducked her head. "Still, he does make a good parent, sort of." She admitted, and dug her nails into the edge of the table as the fire demon's aura flared. Almost every student in the picnic area looked up at the disturbance, some of them ready to beat down whoever had interrupted them, and the aura simmered with a stern look from Kurama.
"I want to learn how to do that." Lark said, gazing at the fox's work with something between awe and jealousy. Kurama sweatdropped and picked up his tray, standing up as he did so. "Well, if that's your goal in life..."
"Shut up." The younger Admarant sister turned her head from him and pretended to be more interested in a rather large spider that was crawling up the side of the picnic table. Yusuke, however, raised a fist and cheered, "Alright! Kurama did something wrong! Welcome to my world!"
Still quite confused over Lark's sudden mood swing, he backed away and tossed his tray in the trash barrel, then collected his bag from the end of the bench. As he went to leave for class, Lark was suddenly right behind him, mock hurt on her face. "Oh, yeah, leave me all alone with them." She jerked her head towards the guys and Chrysanthemum (who was ready to leave, anyways), then hooked Kurama's arm in hers. "Y'know, I don't get enough love and care around here."
"Uh...um..." There seemed to be no words to explain the current situation, and if Kurama had found any, he doubted Lark would even listen. Giving up with a sigh, he let his head drop. "Go on ahead, Lark."
Wasting not even a second, she ran full speed out of the lunch area, leaving her stunned friends behind and nearly dragging Kurama. The stop was just as sudden, and the fox grabbed hold of a post alongside the pathway to keep from falling. "And... what... was that... for?" He panted. Lark shrugged, breathing just as hard, and smiled. "I just wanted to talk."
"Oh... Is that all?" Kurama let his bag fall off his shoulder and land on the ground with a soft thud, then followed suit. "Now, what's on your mind?"
"Well, you know about finals and stuff?" She gave her roommate just enough time to nod, then continued on. "Y'see, I could use some help in my history and stuff - don't we all - but my sister's been too busy to help me."
"So you want me to help you?"
"Well, no, yes! Ah, crud... how to word this..." She leaned against a tree, twirling a strand of black hair around her finger. "Okay... I do need your help - hey, don't speak yet - but Lyra's been kind of down lately. I'm worried about her."
"So you want me to volunteer to help Lyra, too. That's not a problem-"
"Oh, no, it usually isn't!" Lark waved her hands furiously, forcing the fox to sit back down, and continued. "But we got a letter... from our dad. He says he's run into a bit of trouble and all that - trust me, it happens more often than you think - but Lyra's always really worried about him. It's really thrown her out of the loop this time, though. She found a few spattered drops of blood on the envelope, so of course she's thinking of the worst thing that could possibly happen.
"And all that is killing her chances for getting good grades in her finals. Holly and I tried to help her, but she won't do much else than tell us to worry about our own stuff - which I hate it when she does that, but its not like she can help worrying about us. Kuwabara might've not have told you, but even he tried to cheer her up, and Kyuro's even been less of an ass then he usually is-"
"Yes, I was wondering about that..."
"He's trying to be nice, in his own delusional way. Anywho, you could at least help, right Kurama? Pleeeaaasssee?" Lark latched onto his hand, her expressive eyes nearly tearing up, and the fox nodded. "Uh, I don't mind, really."
"Yes! Kurama, you're such a buddy!" The younger girl wrapped her arms around the fox's waist in a tight hug, and had to be pried off. "Just remember to breathe next time; you were nearly turning red." Lark playfully punched him (which left a very non-playful sting) and jumped to her feet, smoothing down her skirt and hair. "I will, Kurama. But please try to help her as much as possible without shoving it down her throat."
"I take it you've already tried that method?" Kurama chuckled, standing up and retrieving his bag. Lark blushed, then scuffed her sneaker. "No, its not that... okay, yeah, maybe just a smidgen." She held her pointer finger and thumb not much more that a millimeter apart. "But she likes you. Besides, you're the only other person besides her to tame that damn lovebird of hers."
"I take it Salvatore is choosy about Lyra's friends."
"Heck yeah! He's worse than having an over-protective older sibling. He even tried to attack me not too long ago." She held up a hand, the bandaged fingers proof of the little bird's nasty jaw strength, and recoiled it sharply when Kurama tried to get a closer look. "Well, I can make a quick pain-reliever and antibacterial for that. Come to think of it, I better make extra for myself..."
"Thanks, Kurama. Really."
"I told you I don't mind, so go run off to class now." Checking his watch, the redhead grimaced. "Ah, I better hurry up, too; Rachel will have my hide." With a wave, Lark was off, and it didn't take long for her to group up with some other girls in her class.
"Michealangelo?" Kuwabara pushed a vine out of the way; jerking his head back just as the plant's tiny bud blossomed into an equally small purple flower with poisonous stingers nestled around its stigma. Pinching the vine expertly, the flowering end dropped lifelessly at an awkward angle, and Kuwabara continued down the nearly invisible trail.
It didn't take long for the little two-room cabin to come into view. Smoke curled from the rock chimney, despite the seventy-degree weather, and the workbench in front was completely clean. Kuwabara peeked around the corner to make sure that his professor was nowhere in the back, then knocked on the thick wooden door of the cabin. No one answered, but the door swung opend of its own accord and allowed the Japanese teen into the front room.
The rock fireplace, although it looked small from the outside, took up nearly half of one wall, and, since there was no stove in the room, Kuwabara guessed that it was how Michealangelo did his cooking. Even now, a pot hung over the fire on a pair of brackets, flames licking the bottom and yellowish smog pouring out the top. The fireplace was the neatest part of the room; the couch was brown leather, an ode to the old days when the Laird's home was possibly a hunting cabin, and a lumpy pillow and numerous blankets were piled on it, as well as old jeans, shirts, and a tattered book. In the far corner, a rickety wooden table and pair of chairs stood, dirty dishes were piled up on the table, making the worn and stained tablecloth bunch up, and there was an ever bigger mountain in the stone sink under the window.
Walking through the mess, Kuwabara quietly opened the door in the back and stole a look into the other room, blocking his nose from the smell. The Laird was in the middle of bandaging his hand, the clean bandages soaking in some sort of medicine on a writing desk in front of him, and looked up at his pupil with a look of total expectation. "Took you long enough." He took the new bandages out of the bowl of medicine and, with a light growl as the medicine got in his wound, continued to bind his hand, glaring at the spreading smear of red on the beige fabric. "Damn, that stings like hell... well, what are you staring at? And come out of there; you don't need to hide behind the door." Kuwabara gulped, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him, then asked, "What, uh, happened to your hand?"
Lazily staring his pupil in the eye, Michealangelo sighed, then muttered, "Nothing much; accidentally cut myself while trying to cook dinner last night." Picking up a metal tab, he clasped the fabric together and clenched and unclenched his right hand, one eye twitching a little as the knife wound no doubt hurt like hell. "I better clean those knives before I go... it would just make my day if I got some unknown disease while I'm out there. Oh," He looked up at Kuwabara and pointed a finger. "I'll be going on a trip for a while. Might not make it back before finals." Putting a lid on the jar of medicine, he stowed behind a sliding compartment door, and stood up, pushing the chair back in. "Oikawa, I don't know if you've heard of him, offered to take you for finals and reviews. He teaches most of the stuff I've been teaching you, so you should be fine."
"But-!"
"I think he teaches thievery, too, so ask Rogerik."
"How-?" Again Kuwabara was cut off, as his teacher snapped his fingers and a strange creature swooped in through the window, its delicate wings flared out as it landed on top of the writing desk, stretching out its neck so Michealangelo could scratch it on its sphereical head. "Remember this little guy?" Nodding, Kuwabara faintly recalled it as the golem that the Laird had spent hours sculpting.
"Good. Now, take him home and take care of him until I get back."
"Okay, but where-"
Michealangelo had swept out of the room, and was now stuffing some clothes in a ragged-looking backpack. The book followed (along with three other of its brethren), as did one of the thicker blankets, and a small photo frame was tossed in, almost as a last minute thought, since the teacher had been staring at the spot where it had been hidden (under his pillow) for almost a minute before deciding it was worth taking. The golem fluttered around behind its creator, making soft squeaking noises even though it lacked a mouth. Michealangelo waved it away, and it took refuge behind Kuwabara.
"Well, that's all of it. I'll be leaving tomorrow night, so I doubt you'll see me for a while after this class."
"Uh, yeah... but where are you going?" Kuwabara moved the golem away from his head and leaned against the wall by the fireplace. The Laird paused, staring into the fire until he slowly turned around. "Things around here haven't been going smoothly, and there's been talk about 'letting me go'. I'll tell you one thing, though; its gonna get a lot worse around here before it gets any better."
"But isn't firing you a little too much?" Kuwabara sat down on one of the unsturdy chairs, the golem coming to a rest on the table beside him. The laird waved the question off and shrugged. "I got in an argument with the headmaster; besides, parents might not want their children attending a facility that has a necromancer on staff - especially when that self-same facility is having problems with undead monsters."
A muffled ringing came from somewhere near the couch, and Michealangelo twitched at the sound. With a muttered string of curses, he dug through the pile of clothes on the couch, then, with seemingly no luck, moved onto another pile dumped over the ancient coffee table. Searching in the pockets of a leather jacket, he pulled out a gold pocket watch and, flipping it open, looked at the clock face. "Damn. Period's over already. Hey, Kuwabara?" The teen stopped petting the golem and stood up at the sound of his name. "Yeah?"
"Don't tell anyone I'm leaving, hm? It might cause me a few complications." Kuwabara was barely able to nod in agreement before he was shoved out of the cabin, the golem fluttering above his head and making furious shrieking noises. The thick wooden door was shut, and there was the telltale chorus of locks and bolts being fastened.
There was a quiet that not even the songbirds dared to break, and even the golem quieted down, landing softly on the ground. Kuwabara gently picked it up, careful for the many ribbon-like structures protruding from the main body and wings, and strode down the same path he had come from, with an endless stream of thoughts going through his head. But most of all, what had he meant by things were going to get worse?
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Things are starting to pick up at the academy, and that means that the fic is coming to a close... (thank GOD!)
Next time I write something this long, I'm not taking month-long breaks. -.-
Also, my laptop monitor has been almost totally trashed today (7/8/04), so I might not be able to update as soon as I would normally be able to. It's kinda hard to type with only two-and-a-half inches of usable screen... I'm glad I was even able to save this onto disk.
Review if you wish, and flame if you dream for death.