Disclaimer: Too poor to pay attention, much less buy the rights to Yu Yu
Hakusho.
Quote of the week: "I don't want to achieve immortality through my work. I want to achieve it through not dying." -Woody Allen
Ne, I know I'm evil, and I didn't update as fast as I'd hoped, but this chapter is fairly long to make up for it ; and a quick thanks to Dalt-chan, who hid Soul Caliber 2 from me and forced me to find better ways to amuse myself. ;;
Also, over 100 reviews! w00t!
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The tumbler clicked, sliding out of place, and Rogerik pushed the door open. The noise was deafening in the quiet room, and he was afraid that someone would hear him; he had heard a loud thud come from the room just a minute earlier, not to mention the incredibly unusual spirit energy weaving its way around the room, and had been hard at work gaining entry.
Gray-green eyes peering into the darkness, the thief saw... nothing. The room was completely empty; the mahogany desk was still neat and orderly with the tray of liquor and decanters placed upon it, the windows were firmly shut and long curtains tied, and there was nothing left in the fireplace except for a couple smoldering ashes. Pale sunlight came in from the tall windows, and Rogerik cautiously stepped inside, leaving the door open behind him. By all means, it looked as though no one had been in the room for a few hours.
But, things were never that simple... no, nothing here could ever be that easy.
Still, as the room gradually lit up to the familiar warm wood tones that decorated the rest of the main office building, he felt the tenseness in his chest slowly loosen and unknot. With a soft sigh he took to casually looking about the room and checking out the papers on the headmaster's desk, the task at hand almost entirely forgotten.
To tell the truth, he wanted to forget it. Just leave and let the others handle it; Yusuke was the Spirit detective, the savior of humanity and all- around good guy (no matter how much he hated to admit it), not him. No, he was just the weak little boy who scurried around and stole what he needed instead of earning it.
There was a soft, almost inaudible, click and he whirled around, his eyes catching a flash of orange and skin-tones among a pile of russet-red leaves as he turned to face the intruder.
It was Givanni, with a cheerful smile on his face and a folder under his arm. The headmaster nodded at Rogerik and sat down behind his desk.
"And just what, may I ask, are you doing in my office, Lewis?"
"Er..."
"Dammit!" the cat spat out blood, rubbing his temple where the column had grazed him. Shikyo hid behind a potted tree, his tail and ears twitching in agitation, the fur along his arms and the back of his neck prickling from the adrenaline rush that accompanied battle. His opponent, and old man who looked like he would break if it weren't for the strange way his eyes were bugging out with battle-driven glee, leaped from one column to the edge of the skylight, hanging by a finger as he sought out another handhold from which to sneak up on the cat from.
With a cackle, he nearly flew across the room, his twisted arms snapping out as he clung onto the tree branch, and he laughed out loud as the black- furred cat hissed and lashed out at him. This rush, this hunt, was all the reason to serve his master; not too long ago, he had been put to rest in the city's local graveyard, his headstone facing towards the isolated prison over the horizon. He had been in solitary confinement then, before he died, and, although he couldn't quite recall why he had been in prison to begin with (it had been so long he'd been in there that he couldn't remember anything else in detail), he knew that it had something to do with the same rush he was feeling now.
The cat below him gave a warning growl, leaping out of the way as he aimed a kick at its shelter, and descended to earth among the clearing dust, leaves, and debris.
He hadn't had enough of this before his death - none of the inmates had been nearly as fun as this ebony feline. Of course, his master had promised him plenty of hunts were he to serve after his passing; every kill resulted in more life energy for himself, keeping him alive. It had been the very night of that bargain that he had felt his muscles twitch, his thoughts flow, and he had dug his way out of his coffin and to the surface with his very nails.
...To the left.
He leaped away, watching as the large disc of stone, a segment from a collapsed decorative column, collided with the floor - a crippling attack if it had hit - and saw the black blur cut through the dust from the opposite side. The black figure coiled its long legs and leapt up at him, claws unsheathed and ready to dig into his old flesh. As a last ditch attempt, he landed on another column, digging his nails in, and scurried to the back; the dodge worked, and the cat shredded the stone to bits, claws screeching and sparking against the marble. With a whoop, he pushed off and landed on the ground, rolling out of the way as the marble pole wobbled and collapsed unto itself.
The cat's landing wasn't nearly as graceful, as a falling chunk of marble managed to slam down upon him, crushing him to the floor; Shikyo yowled and hissed, his fur sticking up in all directions, and pushed the rock off of himself, rolling to his feet. His right leg sagged under his weight and he limped over to the front desk, trying to keep weight off of the injured paw. "Dammit..! For the love of - ack!" He jumped over the desk, ducking low as the invisible attack skimmed over the very top of the desk and left a horizontal gash in the wall.
Poking his head over, he saw the old man lunge forwards, and went to run out of the way, totally forgetting his leg. The injured paw failed to work and he tripped, his gray eyes wide as the butler in disguise prepared for another crossed karate chop.
The shield broke in a dazzling show of golden sparkles that drifted on the wind, and out from the twinkling drizzle came Cecilia, full force. An astral dragon, not quite real in appearance, roared out of the sparkles, maw opened wide and its transparent teeth tearing up the turf in its path. Yusuke braced himself, guarding his face with his arms, and he felt Jin's wind shield surround him and the house.
It crashed through the wind shelter and howled along the ground, leaping from Cecilia's body in a ghostly torrent. There was a rush of something cold, leaving him with the feeling that he had been dumped in ice-cold water, and his gut twisted as the energy was totally sucked out of him; his chocolate eyes turned blank and his arms fell to his sides as he dropped to his knees.
It was going to be over now... it had to be. There was nothing stopping their former ally now, as the horrible attack twisted and writhed in the air, still attached to her by the tip of its tail. With a grimace, the spirit detective prepared himself for the worse, wondering just what it would be like to die a third time.
He had never thought that death would sound so much like an automobile engine.
Opening one eye, Yusuke saw the vehicle, which was currently descending from a jump, and took a minute to connect the driver with a familiar face. Damn... it was Suzuka. How often the inventor was going to keep appearing and saving them, he didn't know.
Not like he was going to complain or anything...
"Oi, you need a bit of help?" The inventor pulled the goggles up over his head, sitting astride a large motorcycle. The bike was dark green with black leather seats and chrome fittings and tail pipes. It was a low rider, too... nice. Without meaning too, Yusuke found himself complimenting Suzuka's taste in motorcycles.
With a groan, he nodded, and managed to get back to his feet. Looking back, he saw that Lyra had managed to pool the last of her energy into a compact bubble that blocked the attack's path through the open front door. The twisting dragon convulsed and shrieked, but amazingly managed to avoid hitting Hiei, who was still in his coma.
"Help would be nice..." Jin was still trying to force Cecilia away, and the she-dragon merely took a step back, out of the way of his rushing gale. Her face was expressionless, and the shadow stretching from her feet was in a fearsome attack position; wings outstretched, neck arched, the sharp talons looked about ready to tear into the roof. They saw the bubble tremble as the attack rammed into it once again, and Lyra visibly shook from the impact; Erika was barely strong enough to sit up straight.
So it seemed like Cecilia was able to channel her draining abilities... still, there was much to be said for pure exhaustion, and had it been a non- life-threatening situation, the girl would have passed out quite a while ago. Suzuka strapped the goggles back on and leaned back over the handlebars of the motorcycle, kicking the start pedal and revving the massive engine before flying at Cecilia's human disguise at full speed.
She whipped her head around - too late, it seemed - just in time to see the bike skid in her direction, the rider's leg almost touching the ground as he forced the bike into a hairpin turn, and a shower of dirt and stone pelted the dragon, distracting her long enough for the protective bubble to steady and re-establish itself. Kurama nodded a thanks to Suzuka, who was already coming around on the bike for another skid. Jin, seeing a way to aid in the inventor's diversion, whipped up a small whirlwind and sent it into the middle of the spray of dirt, causing the stones to fly around and pin Cecilia in one spot. As it rose skyward, there was a blinding green flash from the doorway, and a tiny black shape stood behind the raven- haired girl's shield.
"Now, do I need to ask again, or did I make myself clear the first time? What are you doing here?"
Rogerik didn't move so much as a muscle. Surely there had to be some alibi to get him past the headmaster... unless maybe he already had no idea about Cecilia. Considering a huge uproar hadn't been started already, perhaps Kuwabara hadn't made it up yet and was just coming around the corner, out of breath and apologizing for getting lost.
No, that was stupid. He had felt Kuwabara's aura through the office door, and could even sense it now, although it was exceptionally weak and distant. No choice but to come up with an excuse... but that was just as dumb. Confuse the headmaster and run? Well, that was slightly better. He backed up towards the door and placed one hand on the knob, mentally swearing as the door refused to open; hadn't it been open and unlocked last he checked? Argh... there was no time to think about it. Since the unusual disappearance of Kuwabara, the evil-killer-attack-butler, and the slightly malicious look the teacher was giving him, Rogerik had second thoughts about trusting Givanni.
Swallowing hard, the blond tried something that had never worked for him before - intimidation tactics.
"I got lost, so I decided to come by. I wanted to decline my queued position for the summer program, y'see..."
"Oh, is that all? Well, of course." The dangerous sneer faded, and the thief relaxed. Bluff it out and run... better to live another day than go missing like Kuwabara. Speaking of which, he had might as well try and find the oaf before skipping off.
Givanni took a pen and wrote a note on a post-it-note on his desk, and motioned to the seat in front of his desk. When the thief declined, he shrugged and continued to write. Rogerik caught the time on the clock on the headmaster's desk, and his face paled. It had been about a half hour since he first left. Would it be too much to ask for to have his friends be okay, or even still alive?
'Stay focused, you dolt.' The taunt, which surprisingly echoed through his head in Lark's voice, made the psychic snap out of La-La-Land and get to back to the task at hand: escaping. The windows would be pretty easy, since they were so big, but traps and gadgets were always a possibility - and so were curses. His eyes roamed the room, and the thief was about to get up and leave when he saw a small piece of curled ceramic poking out of the headmaster's trash barrel.
Wait, Kuwabara had dragged that stupid golem up here, right? So if a piece of the golem was stuck in the trash, wasn't the Japanese boy up here somewhere? Rogerik looked for anything, even the slightest hint of Kuwabara's locale, but was interrupted by Givanni, who had stopped writing and was now looking straight at him with that same sneer as before.
"I have a hunch that maybe you aren't here for just making plans for returning home."
"Uh, no, of course not! Really!" He backed away from the desk, trying to calm down Givanni, who was getting up from his desk. The older human had gotten up and reached the thief in a manner of seconds, then snapped his fingers. Behind him, the floor exploded upwards and Rogerik looked on in fear as the butler-of-doom from before picked its way across the snapped floorboards; a large black lump of fur was lying prostrate at the foot Givanni's desk.
So Givanni was the old geezer's master... freaky. The psychic was about to feint a right and run over towards the fireplace, his eyes focused on the cast-iron poker that hung on a hook by the mantel, but the black lump moved, then slowly got to its knees. Shikyo... the cat was in bad shape, and even under the glare of a madman and the butler-nator, Rogerik could see the teacher struggling to stand up. Apparently, the explosion had been because the cat demon had been thrown through the ceiling below, and it was by pure luck (or perhaps a thick skull) that he had lived through it.
"Elgereiz, please hold this boy back; oh, and make sure our Shikyo-sensei doesn't escape either... I'll have a word with him later." Givanni sauntered away from Rogerik and nodded towards the ancient man on his way out, who took a few herky-jerk steps. Shikyo had done his best while fighting and had left some damage, as Elgereiz, whom he assumed was the butler, had a number of cuts and shards of bone was sticking out through the pale wrinkly skin and dirty jacket. The headmaster shoved Rogerik out of the way of the door and was about to close it behind him when he poked his head back in.
"Oh, and have a nice day, you two. Too bad Kazuma isn't around to take part."
The door shut, and Rogerik was left in the room with the mad butler and injured cat demon. He didn't bother to speak or cry out as Elgereiz, whom he preferred to call "evil-butler-from-hell" to begin with (it simply fit much better), slammed him to the floor with a well-aimed elbow jab to the back of the neck.
Givanni had dared to call Kuwabara by the teen's first name, as if they were good friends; but, even worse, the headmaster probably knew where the carrot-top was and had chosen to ignore his warning.
They were screwed... with a capital S.
The portraits in their frames seemed to leer at him as he strode down the hall, one even going so far as to reach out from his own frame and grabbing an apple from a still life painting and throw it at him.
Stupid paintings. Ever since he first came to this damn school...
Givanni grabbed the apple in midair and tossed it over his shoulder, unperturbed by the event. Soon, classes would start, and no one would be able to miss seeing Cecilia. It had taken years to set everything up; little by little, ever since he had been elected headmaster ten years ago, he had been weakening the academy's defense system. When Koenma, finally suspicious enough to send his own best, and only, spirit detective, Givanni had nearly panicked. Those first few months had been a minor setback, and he had only regained enough gall to continue his works after assessing the four early on in the year; over time, though, they had delivered a most powerful and surprising weapon into his hands: the dragon.
It had taken a bit of smooth talking and bribery with the guards of the spirit plane to be able to reanimate her without Reikai knowing, but once she had risen and gained enough energy from the victims of the other day, Cecilia had proved to be fairly unstoppable; when she had died, back in December, and her grave was erected, the tree that was planted over her corpse had done much of the work of restraining her energy and storing it. But now, an unintended factor had come into play, and no matter how he had tried to get rid of the hatchling, it had always managed to get away.
If he didn't know better, he'd say that Cecilia's true soul, the one that had been sealed away in spirit world, was keeping watch over the child dragon, even through death.
It was unnerving... but irrelevant.
As he stepped over the debris of what used to be the front lobby and desk, the headmaster stiffly brushed a bit of dust from his shoulder. Someone had to be blamed for this, and the Laird's sudden trip made him all the more suspicious to the public. Of course, the students would have to be sent home early, finals cancelled, and the school would eventually become so overridden by the undead and monsters roaming the forest that the academy would have to be shut down. And then, he could continue to raise undead, undisturbed, in the ruins of the school and take on Koenma.
If one dragon was too much for the tantei, what would they possibly do about a few more added to the ranks of his forming army? Well, he supposed they had to survive the first one in order to take on the rest.
But, even if they managed to break the barrier that separated soul from body, he highly doubted they would.
Fog drifted through the trees and loud explosions could be heard from way off in the distance. Groggily, Kuwabara got to his feet, brushing red leaves off of his T-shirt, and looked around at the fall scenery.
Wait... fall? Wasn't it early June just this morning?
"Where am I?" he wondered, awestruck at the fiery foliage. His only reply came from his left, as a rather ugly feathered youkai with spikes protruding from its wrists and forehead leaped out at him, its gray tunic shredded and torn to bits. There was an orange flash and strangled yell, and the demon was speared on the end of Kuwabara's spirit sword, still scrabbling for the teenager. A talon swiped past his head and he cut off the energy flow to his weapon, letting the demon crumple to the ground as he dodged backwards.
"What the? I can't be in... the demon world, can I?" As if in precaution of this possibility, his spirit sword once again flared from his clenched hands, and not a moment too soon.
From opposite sides, two demons, one in a makeshift gray uniform and another in a blue pants/vest combo, charged at each other, meeting in the middle to grapple. Kuwabara rolled out of the way, and his movement seemed to shift the attention of the two; they stopped fighting and flexed their claws and muscles, suddenly aware of the human scent. One of them, the one with the gray uniform had a ridged back resembling that of a hyena, growled out loud, showing off rather formidable incisor teeth, and lowered its short snout to sniff around. Kuwabara crawled into a bramble bush, ignoring the thorns as the pricked his skin and drew forth blood, and watched as the hyena-demon came even closer to him. The other, a dark red oni with black hair, took a sidelong glance at the fallen demon over to the side, and backed off; even if this was a human, they had enough of a handle on their ki to take out a youkai.
"Wherrrre arrrrre yooouuuu?" The hyena slashed at a random bush near Kuwabara, grinning as he felt the increase of fear. Flexing his claws again, he trotted closer to the bramble bush, taking a horizontal swipe at it and making red leaves fly. He had forgotten all about the oni, and was now intent on hunting his frightened prey - a bad move.
Taking advantage of a quick victory, the oni dashed forwards, swinging a heavy mace at the hyena's head, and Kuwabara heard a sickening thud followed by retreating footsteps, then recoiled away from the demon's fallen body. "That was close... sheeeeee."
He got up and ran, leaping over fallen and wounded fighters, eventually making his way across a wide empty field of tall grass, before the world swam and he collided with dirt. Kuwabara cursed, rather colorfully too, and reached out, his expression turning from surprise to anger as his hand pressed flat against an invisible wall. Getting up, he kept one hand on the wall and followed it for a few yards, swearing loudly as it came to an equally invisible corner. With a sigh he flopped down on the grass, careful to keep out of the eyesight of demons, and stared up at the smoke-clouded sky, thinking about the situation.
Was he really stuck here? For good?
"So... heard any good jokes lately?"
"Shut up."
Rogerik sighed, and proceeded to stare up at the ceiling. Elgereiz had bound both the thief and cat demon around the ankles and wrists, and, although it wasn't quite so bad in Rogerik's case, he knew Shikyo's temper had to be running short – especially with his crushed paw. The demon had reverted from his much larger, completely furred, self, to his normal form: an average-sized human with black cats ears and a tail. His bindings were tighter than the rogue's, and his hands were covered with thick chain mail gloves and tied behind his back... probably so he couldn't claw his way out.
Rogerik let his eyes roam over the room, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible to evil-butler-from-hell, and he gaze finally rested on the autumn landscape over the fireplace. Not quite in the mood for another round of "Let's find all the hidden corpses!", he quckly glazed over the painting, but something caught his eye; for once, it wasn't a pleasantly disguised body, but something moving. Straining his vision, the thief almost fell backwards, but instead nudged the cat next to him in the ribs.
"Hey, man, look at the painting."
Stars and little tweety-birds flew in circles around his head, and Rogerik tried to sit up. Elgereiz had pinned him to the floor with a rib-crunching kick and was grinding his wrist into the splintered floor. The wrinkled face pulled up into a sneer, and the butler's eyes seemed to pop out even more. "Just what are you talking about, whelp? What about the painting?"
Elgereiz stole a look over at the mantle, and Rogerik could see a flinch just out of the corner of his eye, then heard a faint hiss. Shikyo... the cat had apparently seen the moving object, and his tail had puffed up to twice its normal size.
There was no doubt about it; the little jumping figure in the painting Kuwabara. So that was what had happened to him. Rogerik inched closer to Shikyo and muttered a quick, "You hit him low," before feigning a look of innocence for the old man. He could feel the cat shift his weight on the floor, and started working away at the knot that tied his wrists behind his back. After a few seconds of total silence, the thief nodded towards the black cat demon and rolled out of the way, distracting Elgereiz long enough for Shikyo to transform into a small black kitten and escape from his shackles, then take his much larger panther-like shape.
The teacher growled once, taking out the geezer in a single tackle, and Rogerik forced his arms apart, wincing as the fabric dug into his skin before ripping apart. Both of them free, he reached for the portrait on the wall, and was surprised to see the four-inch-tall Kuwabara grab onto one of his fingers as Rogerik touched the canvas surface. There was a blinding flash, in which Shikyo took the upper hand and knocked Elgereiz's feet out and let the butler topple through the hole in the floor, and the teen was sprawled out on the office floor. Kuwabara was a mess, blood stuck in his hair and splattered across his T-shirt, and mud smeared all over his clothes. Still he managed to stand up and talk.
"So, did you get him?"
"Eh, you mean Givanni? No, we were kind of... tied up, y'see."
"Rogerik, now isn't the time for puns." The cat chastised the two teens and kicked at the door, almost collapsing on his bad leg and doing nothing against the wooden surface. With a sigh of defeat, Rogerik helped Kuwabara up, and the two of them managed to hack a leg off of Givanni's desk; the cat propped himself up against the crude crutch and pointed to the floor below.
"If we want to get him, we might as well take the shortcut." Kuwabara nodded, about to jump through, but halted. "But what about Urameshi and the others? We just left them back there- aaaacccck!" There was a thud, and Rogerik leaned over to look through the hole.
"You really shouldn't push people like tha- aaaagh!"
Making sure noone would be coming through the door any time soon, Shikyo tossed the table leg down and, after changing back to the miniscule black kitten, jumped down after the students.
Fire spewed from the tiny vial, and Suzuka dashed by the dragon on his over- sized motorcycle. Cecilia snarled and flicked her wrist, extinguishing the flames, and continued onwards.
The hatchling had gone into a frenzy now, and instead of trying to force Hiei to move, she was curled up on his head, hissing viciously; the wind was whipping through the trees and her tiny white wings were folded up, her feathery mane whipping around in the breeze. Every now and again, a tiny spurt of flame would escape her lips and she would flare out her wings as if trying to make herself appear bigger.
Yet, for all her anger and fear at the other creature, she had a little nagging thought in the back of her childish mind. This she-person... she seemed familiar somehow and that the dragon had known her before, yet didn't know how. There was no blue-haired woman in her memories (unless you counted the feminine-looking ice master), but the energy tugged and worried her.
She was so close to figuring it out, but the memory kept eluding her... Hiei was her Ma... right? Who else was there?
"Maaaa?" Again, Hiei was unresponsive, and the dragonling nervously nudged his forehead with her muzzle, her snout rubbing against the rough fabric that was shaded by his bangs. She let loose a startled squeal as light emitted from the demon's forehead. Now this... this seemed familiar, Hiei's third eye.
A shadow fell over the pair and the sound of yells and motors and tearing wind faded away. Blue eyes wide, the hatchling looked up into the clouded eyes of the attacker, and the eye on Hiei's forehead glowed even brighter.
It was as if she could see the scenes playing in the woman's head, and before she knew it, she was torn from her body and pitched into the endless void of a thousand scarring memories.
Paintings and portraits flew by as the trio ran down the carpet-lined hallway. How long they had been running was unknown, but all three were painstakingly aware of the sun peering through the tall windows; it would be cleaner in the end if none of the students witnessed this.
Givanni wasn't too far ahead, but they were still dragged down by the exhausted Kuwabara and limping Shikyo. To tell the truth, Rogerik was impressed that either one of them was able to run with their injuries – one, a broken paw and the other, blood loss – and even a little short of amazed that they were gaining on the headmaster.
Well, wonders never ceased around here.
He skidded to a stop, nearly falling onto his rear, as the hall ended in a cross roads. Kuwabara hadn't been as lucky and had fallen after grabbing at the wall for a handhold, while the cat demon had merely dropped to one knee, hissing at the throbbing pain in his right foot. The thief's worries, though, were a little more than physical pain. Three doors, which to choose..?
Shikyo stood up and leaned against the wall, his dark eyes half shut. "Think maybe we should split up, or stay together?"
"There's no way we can split up, since you're all hurt and stuff." Kuwabara, too tired to stand up, was sitting on the floor, staring up at the identical doors. The cat demon made a half-hearted hiss and slumped down on the floor, trying to put as little strain on his leg as possible. "You're not much better, you know..."
"Yeah, but I don't walk like a gimp." The teenager grinned, and both of his other companions shook their heads in disbelief of Kuwabara's misplaced humor.
"Let's just do this the old fashioned way-"
"Rock, paper, scissors." It was said so suddenly that Rogerik had to give himself a moment to think. "Why rock, paper, scissors?"
"Winner chooses which door we go through." The red head made a feeble fist and grinned, ignoring Shikyo's loathsome glare.
"I can sense my impending death already," Shikyo crossly muttered, remembering his total incompetence at the game. Rogerik shrugged and made a fist as well.
"Fine, on three... one, two, three..!"
Two rocks and a paper.
"Yes! I win!" Kuwabara pumped his fist into the air and jumped to his feet, already trying to decide which door to go through.
"I thought that the thrill of 'Rock, paper, scissors' would wear off after over a thousand consecutive wins..." The thief looked at his own hand in distaste and gave Shikyo a shrug, which the cat returned.
"Simple pleasures and all that, I guess." Both of them started as Kuwabara blatantly yelled, "That one!" He was pointing to the one on the right and Rogerik clapped him on the shoulder.
"Cool. Knew that Sixth Sense would come in helpful someday." The thief threw open the door, stepping away from the doorway in case any unpleasant surprises were in store for them. Since the coast was clear, he nodded to the other two and they continued their mad dash down the halls, hoping the headmaster hadn't gained too much ground.
Another set of double doors, which were thrown open, and the three of them emerged into the pale morning sunlight. It was a garden, filled with large flowers that rose over their heads and filled the air with a pungent perfume. They wandered away from the door, and the taller human let his spirit sword flare to life in his hands as the flowers towered above them.
"I must admit, I'm impressed you made it here so soon." The headmaster's voice seemed to come from their left, and Kuwabara thrust his energy blade into the thin green stalks.
"Ah, you missed there, my boy. Try over... here." Givanni's voice seemed to move from their right over to behind them, but there was no rustling of flower stalks. Kuwabara seemed not to notice, though, as he sliced through anyways, toppling a couple dozen flower heads.
"Dammit! Givanni, you spineless bastard! Come out and fight!"
"Kuwabara, leave it. Something isn't right here..." Shikyo tried to place a hand on the human's shoulder, but it was shrugged off.
"Hey, he stuck me in a painting, and no one does that to Kazuma Kuwabara!"
"Well of course no one does; it bends the laws of physics." Rogerik hastily stepped out of the way of Kuwabara's sword and cringed at Shikyo's stern look (a.k.a: the patented "teacher glare")
"Who here is gonna stop me from wanting a fair fight? You're all as peeved as I am, admit it!"
Well, Kuwabara did have a point there, but...
"Ah, but they're just as spineless as I am, aren't they Kazuma-san?" Givanni again, this time coming from... all around? What in hell was going on here?
"Shut up! No one but Yukina-chan and my sister can call me by that name, dammit!" Another furious horizontal slash, and more flowers fell. Still, there was no movement from among them.
"Oh, you mean Shizuru-san? Yes, I know you're confused now, but believe me, big sister won't be any help... she's just as clueless about this as you are."
This time, Kuwabara was too upset to even speak, and Rogerik could relate; bringing family, especially the only family Kuwabara was close to, was below the belt. With a roar, Kuwabara thrusted his spirit sword into the flowers, and yanked out whatever had managed to have speared on the end.
It was Givanni. Well, at least alike to the headmaster, considering the identical double was smiling, despite the orange blade of energy stabbed into his gut, and no blood flowed from the wound. With a chesire-cat grin, the headmaster calmly said, "Ow."
Ow - that was it; no dramatic ending speech, no bloodcurdling scream of pain, not even so much as watering eyes – just... ow.
"Nice show, Kazuma-san! Very nice! You have gotten better, but I digress..." Three heads turned up towards the infuriatingly cheerful voice, and Rogerik's mouth hung open. How long had he been watching them? And the other Givanni, the one hanging from the end of Kuwabara's sword..? Turning back, the thief watched in shock as the smiling double seemed to flatten out and shrink, eventually falling to the ground as nothing more than an embossed photograph. This mind-game in the garden, had it been an illusion?
The headmaster was standing on a high-up balcony, next to a rather strange looking mesh of gears, metal, and gray flesh; whatever it was, it had large sweeping wings and could, obviously, fly.
"I doubt you could stop me, boys. You saw my photogenic doppleganger, and all I need is a mere sketch to bring out a monster fully capable of serving me your heads on a platter."
There was no answer from the two students and teacher, and the headmaster beamed. "A rather hopeless cause, indeed; and if you manage to escape, I fear my alibi won't convince Koenma. By delivering the dragon to me, you've sped up my entire little scheme by a number of years. Can you really blame me for being so ecstatic?"
At this, Shikyo muttered, flatly, "No... I guess not."
The fog was clearing, and she could sense something wrong with the world below. Her body, it was missing, and the hatchling... gone. Wherever she was, it was beyond her reach, and this angered her beyond anything else she had known. Her ki tearing across the sky in blinding flashes of lightning, she searched down below for a proper vessel.
The soft purple light drew her down, much like the glow that had lured her away from her watch post to begin with, and she slowly descended. They were no doubt aware of her, not that she cared, but someone had to do away with that imposter - her life hung in the balance. His body gave no resistance as she slipped inside, her mind reeling at the sudden overcharge of information.
The color..! It was as if she had suddenly regained a part of herself, a part of her being, as crimson eyes scanned her surroundings. Ah, there... there was her little one, her lifeblood; and there was the vile creature that claimed to be her. Why were the others staring like that? Didn't they have the brains to figure out that the little one was in danger of a fate worse than simple death?
How dare that cheap fake try to force her flesh and blood to take in those memories, those disgusting, vile, retched thoughts and nightmares? Her blood boiled at the thought, and she found the fire youkai's body quite adept when it came to battle. Not a second after dreaming of decapitating the body that used to belong to her, she found herself glaring at the imposter in the face and thrusting a blade of steel through its gut. With a feral twist and snarl, she leapt away and caught the tiny white dragon, gentle for her fragile wings and slim neck.
This... this was unmistakably the child worth waiting centuries to see, and as the calloused hands of the body she had borrowed brought the hatchling up to her chest, she allowed few words to escape her before she left along with her real body.
"Ma...ra... my little Mara, be good..."
She was suddenly in the air above the purple house, saw the stirring forms in one of the second-floor bedrooms and the inventor's open-mouthed stare at what had just happened. This would be a night to remember, but...
'My little one, my sweet daughter, Mara... try not to remember tonight, please...'
He had been in the middle of one of his trademark carefree laughs when the sensation hit him. Cecilia... she had perished just now; there was no mistaking it, since the familiar throb of stolen energy had ceased. With her gone to protect him as his shield, what was there left for him here?
Well, he might as well enjoy a game of chase before he gave in.
"It seems my time has grown dim, my friends. Look me up during the summer, hm? Bermuda sounds quite nice, actually..." The mechanical bird monster lowered a wing, which he stepped on, and lifted him to its skeletal back. While the humans and neko down below were busy playing with his photo doppelgangers, it would be easier to just leave now.
"Argh! HEY, YOU! Get the HELL DOWN HERE!" Kuwabara's yell of fury was unlike any he had heard before, but he merely waved it off and settled between the clockwork monster's spinal bones, careful to stay out of the way of its fragile wings.
'Sayonara... I must find myself a sunrise to ride off into...'
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Ne, again, sorry it took a while to put up... but next chapter shall probably be the last (besides outtakes and such). Also, you are allowed to question the characters...
Okay, I'll admit, I need a break, and that's final. ;;
Next chapter!
What will become of Mara-chan?
Finals? Oi...
Lark wakes up... Lark has PMS... Lark goes off on Rogerik for not taking Lark with him. ;;
Family time! But wait'll you meet Holly's sibling and grandmother... x.X
And "Shikyo 'da Gimp"! Uh... errr... ::dodges Shik-san's dirty look:: or not...
Quote of the week: "I don't want to achieve immortality through my work. I want to achieve it through not dying." -Woody Allen
Ne, I know I'm evil, and I didn't update as fast as I'd hoped, but this chapter is fairly long to make up for it ; and a quick thanks to Dalt-chan, who hid Soul Caliber 2 from me and forced me to find better ways to amuse myself. ;;
Also, over 100 reviews! w00t!
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The tumbler clicked, sliding out of place, and Rogerik pushed the door open. The noise was deafening in the quiet room, and he was afraid that someone would hear him; he had heard a loud thud come from the room just a minute earlier, not to mention the incredibly unusual spirit energy weaving its way around the room, and had been hard at work gaining entry.
Gray-green eyes peering into the darkness, the thief saw... nothing. The room was completely empty; the mahogany desk was still neat and orderly with the tray of liquor and decanters placed upon it, the windows were firmly shut and long curtains tied, and there was nothing left in the fireplace except for a couple smoldering ashes. Pale sunlight came in from the tall windows, and Rogerik cautiously stepped inside, leaving the door open behind him. By all means, it looked as though no one had been in the room for a few hours.
But, things were never that simple... no, nothing here could ever be that easy.
Still, as the room gradually lit up to the familiar warm wood tones that decorated the rest of the main office building, he felt the tenseness in his chest slowly loosen and unknot. With a soft sigh he took to casually looking about the room and checking out the papers on the headmaster's desk, the task at hand almost entirely forgotten.
To tell the truth, he wanted to forget it. Just leave and let the others handle it; Yusuke was the Spirit detective, the savior of humanity and all- around good guy (no matter how much he hated to admit it), not him. No, he was just the weak little boy who scurried around and stole what he needed instead of earning it.
There was a soft, almost inaudible, click and he whirled around, his eyes catching a flash of orange and skin-tones among a pile of russet-red leaves as he turned to face the intruder.
It was Givanni, with a cheerful smile on his face and a folder under his arm. The headmaster nodded at Rogerik and sat down behind his desk.
"And just what, may I ask, are you doing in my office, Lewis?"
"Er..."
"Dammit!" the cat spat out blood, rubbing his temple where the column had grazed him. Shikyo hid behind a potted tree, his tail and ears twitching in agitation, the fur along his arms and the back of his neck prickling from the adrenaline rush that accompanied battle. His opponent, and old man who looked like he would break if it weren't for the strange way his eyes were bugging out with battle-driven glee, leaped from one column to the edge of the skylight, hanging by a finger as he sought out another handhold from which to sneak up on the cat from.
With a cackle, he nearly flew across the room, his twisted arms snapping out as he clung onto the tree branch, and he laughed out loud as the black- furred cat hissed and lashed out at him. This rush, this hunt, was all the reason to serve his master; not too long ago, he had been put to rest in the city's local graveyard, his headstone facing towards the isolated prison over the horizon. He had been in solitary confinement then, before he died, and, although he couldn't quite recall why he had been in prison to begin with (it had been so long he'd been in there that he couldn't remember anything else in detail), he knew that it had something to do with the same rush he was feeling now.
The cat below him gave a warning growl, leaping out of the way as he aimed a kick at its shelter, and descended to earth among the clearing dust, leaves, and debris.
He hadn't had enough of this before his death - none of the inmates had been nearly as fun as this ebony feline. Of course, his master had promised him plenty of hunts were he to serve after his passing; every kill resulted in more life energy for himself, keeping him alive. It had been the very night of that bargain that he had felt his muscles twitch, his thoughts flow, and he had dug his way out of his coffin and to the surface with his very nails.
...To the left.
He leaped away, watching as the large disc of stone, a segment from a collapsed decorative column, collided with the floor - a crippling attack if it had hit - and saw the black blur cut through the dust from the opposite side. The black figure coiled its long legs and leapt up at him, claws unsheathed and ready to dig into his old flesh. As a last ditch attempt, he landed on another column, digging his nails in, and scurried to the back; the dodge worked, and the cat shredded the stone to bits, claws screeching and sparking against the marble. With a whoop, he pushed off and landed on the ground, rolling out of the way as the marble pole wobbled and collapsed unto itself.
The cat's landing wasn't nearly as graceful, as a falling chunk of marble managed to slam down upon him, crushing him to the floor; Shikyo yowled and hissed, his fur sticking up in all directions, and pushed the rock off of himself, rolling to his feet. His right leg sagged under his weight and he limped over to the front desk, trying to keep weight off of the injured paw. "Dammit..! For the love of - ack!" He jumped over the desk, ducking low as the invisible attack skimmed over the very top of the desk and left a horizontal gash in the wall.
Poking his head over, he saw the old man lunge forwards, and went to run out of the way, totally forgetting his leg. The injured paw failed to work and he tripped, his gray eyes wide as the butler in disguise prepared for another crossed karate chop.
The shield broke in a dazzling show of golden sparkles that drifted on the wind, and out from the twinkling drizzle came Cecilia, full force. An astral dragon, not quite real in appearance, roared out of the sparkles, maw opened wide and its transparent teeth tearing up the turf in its path. Yusuke braced himself, guarding his face with his arms, and he felt Jin's wind shield surround him and the house.
It crashed through the wind shelter and howled along the ground, leaping from Cecilia's body in a ghostly torrent. There was a rush of something cold, leaving him with the feeling that he had been dumped in ice-cold water, and his gut twisted as the energy was totally sucked out of him; his chocolate eyes turned blank and his arms fell to his sides as he dropped to his knees.
It was going to be over now... it had to be. There was nothing stopping their former ally now, as the horrible attack twisted and writhed in the air, still attached to her by the tip of its tail. With a grimace, the spirit detective prepared himself for the worse, wondering just what it would be like to die a third time.
He had never thought that death would sound so much like an automobile engine.
Opening one eye, Yusuke saw the vehicle, which was currently descending from a jump, and took a minute to connect the driver with a familiar face. Damn... it was Suzuka. How often the inventor was going to keep appearing and saving them, he didn't know.
Not like he was going to complain or anything...
"Oi, you need a bit of help?" The inventor pulled the goggles up over his head, sitting astride a large motorcycle. The bike was dark green with black leather seats and chrome fittings and tail pipes. It was a low rider, too... nice. Without meaning too, Yusuke found himself complimenting Suzuka's taste in motorcycles.
With a groan, he nodded, and managed to get back to his feet. Looking back, he saw that Lyra had managed to pool the last of her energy into a compact bubble that blocked the attack's path through the open front door. The twisting dragon convulsed and shrieked, but amazingly managed to avoid hitting Hiei, who was still in his coma.
"Help would be nice..." Jin was still trying to force Cecilia away, and the she-dragon merely took a step back, out of the way of his rushing gale. Her face was expressionless, and the shadow stretching from her feet was in a fearsome attack position; wings outstretched, neck arched, the sharp talons looked about ready to tear into the roof. They saw the bubble tremble as the attack rammed into it once again, and Lyra visibly shook from the impact; Erika was barely strong enough to sit up straight.
So it seemed like Cecilia was able to channel her draining abilities... still, there was much to be said for pure exhaustion, and had it been a non- life-threatening situation, the girl would have passed out quite a while ago. Suzuka strapped the goggles back on and leaned back over the handlebars of the motorcycle, kicking the start pedal and revving the massive engine before flying at Cecilia's human disguise at full speed.
She whipped her head around - too late, it seemed - just in time to see the bike skid in her direction, the rider's leg almost touching the ground as he forced the bike into a hairpin turn, and a shower of dirt and stone pelted the dragon, distracting her long enough for the protective bubble to steady and re-establish itself. Kurama nodded a thanks to Suzuka, who was already coming around on the bike for another skid. Jin, seeing a way to aid in the inventor's diversion, whipped up a small whirlwind and sent it into the middle of the spray of dirt, causing the stones to fly around and pin Cecilia in one spot. As it rose skyward, there was a blinding green flash from the doorway, and a tiny black shape stood behind the raven- haired girl's shield.
"Now, do I need to ask again, or did I make myself clear the first time? What are you doing here?"
Rogerik didn't move so much as a muscle. Surely there had to be some alibi to get him past the headmaster... unless maybe he already had no idea about Cecilia. Considering a huge uproar hadn't been started already, perhaps Kuwabara hadn't made it up yet and was just coming around the corner, out of breath and apologizing for getting lost.
No, that was stupid. He had felt Kuwabara's aura through the office door, and could even sense it now, although it was exceptionally weak and distant. No choice but to come up with an excuse... but that was just as dumb. Confuse the headmaster and run? Well, that was slightly better. He backed up towards the door and placed one hand on the knob, mentally swearing as the door refused to open; hadn't it been open and unlocked last he checked? Argh... there was no time to think about it. Since the unusual disappearance of Kuwabara, the evil-killer-attack-butler, and the slightly malicious look the teacher was giving him, Rogerik had second thoughts about trusting Givanni.
Swallowing hard, the blond tried something that had never worked for him before - intimidation tactics.
"I got lost, so I decided to come by. I wanted to decline my queued position for the summer program, y'see..."
"Oh, is that all? Well, of course." The dangerous sneer faded, and the thief relaxed. Bluff it out and run... better to live another day than go missing like Kuwabara. Speaking of which, he had might as well try and find the oaf before skipping off.
Givanni took a pen and wrote a note on a post-it-note on his desk, and motioned to the seat in front of his desk. When the thief declined, he shrugged and continued to write. Rogerik caught the time on the clock on the headmaster's desk, and his face paled. It had been about a half hour since he first left. Would it be too much to ask for to have his friends be okay, or even still alive?
'Stay focused, you dolt.' The taunt, which surprisingly echoed through his head in Lark's voice, made the psychic snap out of La-La-Land and get to back to the task at hand: escaping. The windows would be pretty easy, since they were so big, but traps and gadgets were always a possibility - and so were curses. His eyes roamed the room, and the thief was about to get up and leave when he saw a small piece of curled ceramic poking out of the headmaster's trash barrel.
Wait, Kuwabara had dragged that stupid golem up here, right? So if a piece of the golem was stuck in the trash, wasn't the Japanese boy up here somewhere? Rogerik looked for anything, even the slightest hint of Kuwabara's locale, but was interrupted by Givanni, who had stopped writing and was now looking straight at him with that same sneer as before.
"I have a hunch that maybe you aren't here for just making plans for returning home."
"Uh, no, of course not! Really!" He backed away from the desk, trying to calm down Givanni, who was getting up from his desk. The older human had gotten up and reached the thief in a manner of seconds, then snapped his fingers. Behind him, the floor exploded upwards and Rogerik looked on in fear as the butler-of-doom from before picked its way across the snapped floorboards; a large black lump of fur was lying prostrate at the foot Givanni's desk.
So Givanni was the old geezer's master... freaky. The psychic was about to feint a right and run over towards the fireplace, his eyes focused on the cast-iron poker that hung on a hook by the mantel, but the black lump moved, then slowly got to its knees. Shikyo... the cat was in bad shape, and even under the glare of a madman and the butler-nator, Rogerik could see the teacher struggling to stand up. Apparently, the explosion had been because the cat demon had been thrown through the ceiling below, and it was by pure luck (or perhaps a thick skull) that he had lived through it.
"Elgereiz, please hold this boy back; oh, and make sure our Shikyo-sensei doesn't escape either... I'll have a word with him later." Givanni sauntered away from Rogerik and nodded towards the ancient man on his way out, who took a few herky-jerk steps. Shikyo had done his best while fighting and had left some damage, as Elgereiz, whom he assumed was the butler, had a number of cuts and shards of bone was sticking out through the pale wrinkly skin and dirty jacket. The headmaster shoved Rogerik out of the way of the door and was about to close it behind him when he poked his head back in.
"Oh, and have a nice day, you two. Too bad Kazuma isn't around to take part."
The door shut, and Rogerik was left in the room with the mad butler and injured cat demon. He didn't bother to speak or cry out as Elgereiz, whom he preferred to call "evil-butler-from-hell" to begin with (it simply fit much better), slammed him to the floor with a well-aimed elbow jab to the back of the neck.
Givanni had dared to call Kuwabara by the teen's first name, as if they were good friends; but, even worse, the headmaster probably knew where the carrot-top was and had chosen to ignore his warning.
They were screwed... with a capital S.
The portraits in their frames seemed to leer at him as he strode down the hall, one even going so far as to reach out from his own frame and grabbing an apple from a still life painting and throw it at him.
Stupid paintings. Ever since he first came to this damn school...
Givanni grabbed the apple in midair and tossed it over his shoulder, unperturbed by the event. Soon, classes would start, and no one would be able to miss seeing Cecilia. It had taken years to set everything up; little by little, ever since he had been elected headmaster ten years ago, he had been weakening the academy's defense system. When Koenma, finally suspicious enough to send his own best, and only, spirit detective, Givanni had nearly panicked. Those first few months had been a minor setback, and he had only regained enough gall to continue his works after assessing the four early on in the year; over time, though, they had delivered a most powerful and surprising weapon into his hands: the dragon.
It had taken a bit of smooth talking and bribery with the guards of the spirit plane to be able to reanimate her without Reikai knowing, but once she had risen and gained enough energy from the victims of the other day, Cecilia had proved to be fairly unstoppable; when she had died, back in December, and her grave was erected, the tree that was planted over her corpse had done much of the work of restraining her energy and storing it. But now, an unintended factor had come into play, and no matter how he had tried to get rid of the hatchling, it had always managed to get away.
If he didn't know better, he'd say that Cecilia's true soul, the one that had been sealed away in spirit world, was keeping watch over the child dragon, even through death.
It was unnerving... but irrelevant.
As he stepped over the debris of what used to be the front lobby and desk, the headmaster stiffly brushed a bit of dust from his shoulder. Someone had to be blamed for this, and the Laird's sudden trip made him all the more suspicious to the public. Of course, the students would have to be sent home early, finals cancelled, and the school would eventually become so overridden by the undead and monsters roaming the forest that the academy would have to be shut down. And then, he could continue to raise undead, undisturbed, in the ruins of the school and take on Koenma.
If one dragon was too much for the tantei, what would they possibly do about a few more added to the ranks of his forming army? Well, he supposed they had to survive the first one in order to take on the rest.
But, even if they managed to break the barrier that separated soul from body, he highly doubted they would.
Fog drifted through the trees and loud explosions could be heard from way off in the distance. Groggily, Kuwabara got to his feet, brushing red leaves off of his T-shirt, and looked around at the fall scenery.
Wait... fall? Wasn't it early June just this morning?
"Where am I?" he wondered, awestruck at the fiery foliage. His only reply came from his left, as a rather ugly feathered youkai with spikes protruding from its wrists and forehead leaped out at him, its gray tunic shredded and torn to bits. There was an orange flash and strangled yell, and the demon was speared on the end of Kuwabara's spirit sword, still scrabbling for the teenager. A talon swiped past his head and he cut off the energy flow to his weapon, letting the demon crumple to the ground as he dodged backwards.
"What the? I can't be in... the demon world, can I?" As if in precaution of this possibility, his spirit sword once again flared from his clenched hands, and not a moment too soon.
From opposite sides, two demons, one in a makeshift gray uniform and another in a blue pants/vest combo, charged at each other, meeting in the middle to grapple. Kuwabara rolled out of the way, and his movement seemed to shift the attention of the two; they stopped fighting and flexed their claws and muscles, suddenly aware of the human scent. One of them, the one with the gray uniform had a ridged back resembling that of a hyena, growled out loud, showing off rather formidable incisor teeth, and lowered its short snout to sniff around. Kuwabara crawled into a bramble bush, ignoring the thorns as the pricked his skin and drew forth blood, and watched as the hyena-demon came even closer to him. The other, a dark red oni with black hair, took a sidelong glance at the fallen demon over to the side, and backed off; even if this was a human, they had enough of a handle on their ki to take out a youkai.
"Wherrrre arrrrre yooouuuu?" The hyena slashed at a random bush near Kuwabara, grinning as he felt the increase of fear. Flexing his claws again, he trotted closer to the bramble bush, taking a horizontal swipe at it and making red leaves fly. He had forgotten all about the oni, and was now intent on hunting his frightened prey - a bad move.
Taking advantage of a quick victory, the oni dashed forwards, swinging a heavy mace at the hyena's head, and Kuwabara heard a sickening thud followed by retreating footsteps, then recoiled away from the demon's fallen body. "That was close... sheeeeee."
He got up and ran, leaping over fallen and wounded fighters, eventually making his way across a wide empty field of tall grass, before the world swam and he collided with dirt. Kuwabara cursed, rather colorfully too, and reached out, his expression turning from surprise to anger as his hand pressed flat against an invisible wall. Getting up, he kept one hand on the wall and followed it for a few yards, swearing loudly as it came to an equally invisible corner. With a sigh he flopped down on the grass, careful to keep out of the eyesight of demons, and stared up at the smoke-clouded sky, thinking about the situation.
Was he really stuck here? For good?
"So... heard any good jokes lately?"
"Shut up."
Rogerik sighed, and proceeded to stare up at the ceiling. Elgereiz had bound both the thief and cat demon around the ankles and wrists, and, although it wasn't quite so bad in Rogerik's case, he knew Shikyo's temper had to be running short – especially with his crushed paw. The demon had reverted from his much larger, completely furred, self, to his normal form: an average-sized human with black cats ears and a tail. His bindings were tighter than the rogue's, and his hands were covered with thick chain mail gloves and tied behind his back... probably so he couldn't claw his way out.
Rogerik let his eyes roam over the room, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible to evil-butler-from-hell, and he gaze finally rested on the autumn landscape over the fireplace. Not quite in the mood for another round of "Let's find all the hidden corpses!", he quckly glazed over the painting, but something caught his eye; for once, it wasn't a pleasantly disguised body, but something moving. Straining his vision, the thief almost fell backwards, but instead nudged the cat next to him in the ribs.
"Hey, man, look at the painting."
Stars and little tweety-birds flew in circles around his head, and Rogerik tried to sit up. Elgereiz had pinned him to the floor with a rib-crunching kick and was grinding his wrist into the splintered floor. The wrinkled face pulled up into a sneer, and the butler's eyes seemed to pop out even more. "Just what are you talking about, whelp? What about the painting?"
Elgereiz stole a look over at the mantle, and Rogerik could see a flinch just out of the corner of his eye, then heard a faint hiss. Shikyo... the cat had apparently seen the moving object, and his tail had puffed up to twice its normal size.
There was no doubt about it; the little jumping figure in the painting Kuwabara. So that was what had happened to him. Rogerik inched closer to Shikyo and muttered a quick, "You hit him low," before feigning a look of innocence for the old man. He could feel the cat shift his weight on the floor, and started working away at the knot that tied his wrists behind his back. After a few seconds of total silence, the thief nodded towards the black cat demon and rolled out of the way, distracting Elgereiz long enough for Shikyo to transform into a small black kitten and escape from his shackles, then take his much larger panther-like shape.
The teacher growled once, taking out the geezer in a single tackle, and Rogerik forced his arms apart, wincing as the fabric dug into his skin before ripping apart. Both of them free, he reached for the portrait on the wall, and was surprised to see the four-inch-tall Kuwabara grab onto one of his fingers as Rogerik touched the canvas surface. There was a blinding flash, in which Shikyo took the upper hand and knocked Elgereiz's feet out and let the butler topple through the hole in the floor, and the teen was sprawled out on the office floor. Kuwabara was a mess, blood stuck in his hair and splattered across his T-shirt, and mud smeared all over his clothes. Still he managed to stand up and talk.
"So, did you get him?"
"Eh, you mean Givanni? No, we were kind of... tied up, y'see."
"Rogerik, now isn't the time for puns." The cat chastised the two teens and kicked at the door, almost collapsing on his bad leg and doing nothing against the wooden surface. With a sigh of defeat, Rogerik helped Kuwabara up, and the two of them managed to hack a leg off of Givanni's desk; the cat propped himself up against the crude crutch and pointed to the floor below.
"If we want to get him, we might as well take the shortcut." Kuwabara nodded, about to jump through, but halted. "But what about Urameshi and the others? We just left them back there- aaaacccck!" There was a thud, and Rogerik leaned over to look through the hole.
"You really shouldn't push people like tha- aaaagh!"
Making sure noone would be coming through the door any time soon, Shikyo tossed the table leg down and, after changing back to the miniscule black kitten, jumped down after the students.
Fire spewed from the tiny vial, and Suzuka dashed by the dragon on his over- sized motorcycle. Cecilia snarled and flicked her wrist, extinguishing the flames, and continued onwards.
The hatchling had gone into a frenzy now, and instead of trying to force Hiei to move, she was curled up on his head, hissing viciously; the wind was whipping through the trees and her tiny white wings were folded up, her feathery mane whipping around in the breeze. Every now and again, a tiny spurt of flame would escape her lips and she would flare out her wings as if trying to make herself appear bigger.
Yet, for all her anger and fear at the other creature, she had a little nagging thought in the back of her childish mind. This she-person... she seemed familiar somehow and that the dragon had known her before, yet didn't know how. There was no blue-haired woman in her memories (unless you counted the feminine-looking ice master), but the energy tugged and worried her.
She was so close to figuring it out, but the memory kept eluding her... Hiei was her Ma... right? Who else was there?
"Maaaa?" Again, Hiei was unresponsive, and the dragonling nervously nudged his forehead with her muzzle, her snout rubbing against the rough fabric that was shaded by his bangs. She let loose a startled squeal as light emitted from the demon's forehead. Now this... this seemed familiar, Hiei's third eye.
A shadow fell over the pair and the sound of yells and motors and tearing wind faded away. Blue eyes wide, the hatchling looked up into the clouded eyes of the attacker, and the eye on Hiei's forehead glowed even brighter.
It was as if she could see the scenes playing in the woman's head, and before she knew it, she was torn from her body and pitched into the endless void of a thousand scarring memories.
Paintings and portraits flew by as the trio ran down the carpet-lined hallway. How long they had been running was unknown, but all three were painstakingly aware of the sun peering through the tall windows; it would be cleaner in the end if none of the students witnessed this.
Givanni wasn't too far ahead, but they were still dragged down by the exhausted Kuwabara and limping Shikyo. To tell the truth, Rogerik was impressed that either one of them was able to run with their injuries – one, a broken paw and the other, blood loss – and even a little short of amazed that they were gaining on the headmaster.
Well, wonders never ceased around here.
He skidded to a stop, nearly falling onto his rear, as the hall ended in a cross roads. Kuwabara hadn't been as lucky and had fallen after grabbing at the wall for a handhold, while the cat demon had merely dropped to one knee, hissing at the throbbing pain in his right foot. The thief's worries, though, were a little more than physical pain. Three doors, which to choose..?
Shikyo stood up and leaned against the wall, his dark eyes half shut. "Think maybe we should split up, or stay together?"
"There's no way we can split up, since you're all hurt and stuff." Kuwabara, too tired to stand up, was sitting on the floor, staring up at the identical doors. The cat demon made a half-hearted hiss and slumped down on the floor, trying to put as little strain on his leg as possible. "You're not much better, you know..."
"Yeah, but I don't walk like a gimp." The teenager grinned, and both of his other companions shook their heads in disbelief of Kuwabara's misplaced humor.
"Let's just do this the old fashioned way-"
"Rock, paper, scissors." It was said so suddenly that Rogerik had to give himself a moment to think. "Why rock, paper, scissors?"
"Winner chooses which door we go through." The red head made a feeble fist and grinned, ignoring Shikyo's loathsome glare.
"I can sense my impending death already," Shikyo crossly muttered, remembering his total incompetence at the game. Rogerik shrugged and made a fist as well.
"Fine, on three... one, two, three..!"
Two rocks and a paper.
"Yes! I win!" Kuwabara pumped his fist into the air and jumped to his feet, already trying to decide which door to go through.
"I thought that the thrill of 'Rock, paper, scissors' would wear off after over a thousand consecutive wins..." The thief looked at his own hand in distaste and gave Shikyo a shrug, which the cat returned.
"Simple pleasures and all that, I guess." Both of them started as Kuwabara blatantly yelled, "That one!" He was pointing to the one on the right and Rogerik clapped him on the shoulder.
"Cool. Knew that Sixth Sense would come in helpful someday." The thief threw open the door, stepping away from the doorway in case any unpleasant surprises were in store for them. Since the coast was clear, he nodded to the other two and they continued their mad dash down the halls, hoping the headmaster hadn't gained too much ground.
Another set of double doors, which were thrown open, and the three of them emerged into the pale morning sunlight. It was a garden, filled with large flowers that rose over their heads and filled the air with a pungent perfume. They wandered away from the door, and the taller human let his spirit sword flare to life in his hands as the flowers towered above them.
"I must admit, I'm impressed you made it here so soon." The headmaster's voice seemed to come from their left, and Kuwabara thrust his energy blade into the thin green stalks.
"Ah, you missed there, my boy. Try over... here." Givanni's voice seemed to move from their right over to behind them, but there was no rustling of flower stalks. Kuwabara seemed not to notice, though, as he sliced through anyways, toppling a couple dozen flower heads.
"Dammit! Givanni, you spineless bastard! Come out and fight!"
"Kuwabara, leave it. Something isn't right here..." Shikyo tried to place a hand on the human's shoulder, but it was shrugged off.
"Hey, he stuck me in a painting, and no one does that to Kazuma Kuwabara!"
"Well of course no one does; it bends the laws of physics." Rogerik hastily stepped out of the way of Kuwabara's sword and cringed at Shikyo's stern look (a.k.a: the patented "teacher glare")
"Who here is gonna stop me from wanting a fair fight? You're all as peeved as I am, admit it!"
Well, Kuwabara did have a point there, but...
"Ah, but they're just as spineless as I am, aren't they Kazuma-san?" Givanni again, this time coming from... all around? What in hell was going on here?
"Shut up! No one but Yukina-chan and my sister can call me by that name, dammit!" Another furious horizontal slash, and more flowers fell. Still, there was no movement from among them.
"Oh, you mean Shizuru-san? Yes, I know you're confused now, but believe me, big sister won't be any help... she's just as clueless about this as you are."
This time, Kuwabara was too upset to even speak, and Rogerik could relate; bringing family, especially the only family Kuwabara was close to, was below the belt. With a roar, Kuwabara thrusted his spirit sword into the flowers, and yanked out whatever had managed to have speared on the end.
It was Givanni. Well, at least alike to the headmaster, considering the identical double was smiling, despite the orange blade of energy stabbed into his gut, and no blood flowed from the wound. With a chesire-cat grin, the headmaster calmly said, "Ow."
Ow - that was it; no dramatic ending speech, no bloodcurdling scream of pain, not even so much as watering eyes – just... ow.
"Nice show, Kazuma-san! Very nice! You have gotten better, but I digress..." Three heads turned up towards the infuriatingly cheerful voice, and Rogerik's mouth hung open. How long had he been watching them? And the other Givanni, the one hanging from the end of Kuwabara's sword..? Turning back, the thief watched in shock as the smiling double seemed to flatten out and shrink, eventually falling to the ground as nothing more than an embossed photograph. This mind-game in the garden, had it been an illusion?
The headmaster was standing on a high-up balcony, next to a rather strange looking mesh of gears, metal, and gray flesh; whatever it was, it had large sweeping wings and could, obviously, fly.
"I doubt you could stop me, boys. You saw my photogenic doppleganger, and all I need is a mere sketch to bring out a monster fully capable of serving me your heads on a platter."
There was no answer from the two students and teacher, and the headmaster beamed. "A rather hopeless cause, indeed; and if you manage to escape, I fear my alibi won't convince Koenma. By delivering the dragon to me, you've sped up my entire little scheme by a number of years. Can you really blame me for being so ecstatic?"
At this, Shikyo muttered, flatly, "No... I guess not."
The fog was clearing, and she could sense something wrong with the world below. Her body, it was missing, and the hatchling... gone. Wherever she was, it was beyond her reach, and this angered her beyond anything else she had known. Her ki tearing across the sky in blinding flashes of lightning, she searched down below for a proper vessel.
The soft purple light drew her down, much like the glow that had lured her away from her watch post to begin with, and she slowly descended. They were no doubt aware of her, not that she cared, but someone had to do away with that imposter - her life hung in the balance. His body gave no resistance as she slipped inside, her mind reeling at the sudden overcharge of information.
The color..! It was as if she had suddenly regained a part of herself, a part of her being, as crimson eyes scanned her surroundings. Ah, there... there was her little one, her lifeblood; and there was the vile creature that claimed to be her. Why were the others staring like that? Didn't they have the brains to figure out that the little one was in danger of a fate worse than simple death?
How dare that cheap fake try to force her flesh and blood to take in those memories, those disgusting, vile, retched thoughts and nightmares? Her blood boiled at the thought, and she found the fire youkai's body quite adept when it came to battle. Not a second after dreaming of decapitating the body that used to belong to her, she found herself glaring at the imposter in the face and thrusting a blade of steel through its gut. With a feral twist and snarl, she leapt away and caught the tiny white dragon, gentle for her fragile wings and slim neck.
This... this was unmistakably the child worth waiting centuries to see, and as the calloused hands of the body she had borrowed brought the hatchling up to her chest, she allowed few words to escape her before she left along with her real body.
"Ma...ra... my little Mara, be good..."
She was suddenly in the air above the purple house, saw the stirring forms in one of the second-floor bedrooms and the inventor's open-mouthed stare at what had just happened. This would be a night to remember, but...
'My little one, my sweet daughter, Mara... try not to remember tonight, please...'
He had been in the middle of one of his trademark carefree laughs when the sensation hit him. Cecilia... she had perished just now; there was no mistaking it, since the familiar throb of stolen energy had ceased. With her gone to protect him as his shield, what was there left for him here?
Well, he might as well enjoy a game of chase before he gave in.
"It seems my time has grown dim, my friends. Look me up during the summer, hm? Bermuda sounds quite nice, actually..." The mechanical bird monster lowered a wing, which he stepped on, and lifted him to its skeletal back. While the humans and neko down below were busy playing with his photo doppelgangers, it would be easier to just leave now.
"Argh! HEY, YOU! Get the HELL DOWN HERE!" Kuwabara's yell of fury was unlike any he had heard before, but he merely waved it off and settled between the clockwork monster's spinal bones, careful to stay out of the way of its fragile wings.
'Sayonara... I must find myself a sunrise to ride off into...'
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Ne, again, sorry it took a while to put up... but next chapter shall probably be the last (besides outtakes and such). Also, you are allowed to question the characters...
Okay, I'll admit, I need a break, and that's final. ;;
Next chapter!
What will become of Mara-chan?
Finals? Oi...
Lark wakes up... Lark has PMS... Lark goes off on Rogerik for not taking Lark with him. ;;
Family time! But wait'll you meet Holly's sibling and grandmother... x.X
And "Shikyo 'da Gimp"! Uh... errr... ::dodges Shik-san's dirty look:: or not...