Kira: ::laughs demonically::
Youko Kurama: Kira-chan, onegai. Please, don't torture me further.
Kira: ::looks at Youko Kurama and shakes her head:: Gomen nasai, Youko-kun.
Youko Kurama: ::moans::
Kira: Look on the bright side, Youko-kun. At least you aren't Hiei-kun.
Hiei: ::currently watching Star Wars Christmas Special on an evil loop tape:: Gods, ta-su-ke-te!! It's the dancing teddy bears!!
Kira: ::amused:: Did he just yell 'Help me!'?
Youko Kurama: ::ears ringing:: He did.
Kira: ::grins:: Kono burei-mono, Hiei-kun. Now you pay for your sins.
Youko Kurama: Hiei-san? An insolent fool? ::looks thoughtful:: Never heard that one before.
Hiei: ::screams:: Gods, no!! Make it stop!! I apologize, Kira-chan!! Onegai, dame!!
Kira: Now, things are getting interesting.
Yuusuke: She's cold, Youko.
Youko Kurama: ::nods discreetly::
Kira: ::glares at Yuusuke:: Would you like to join Hiei-kun, Yuusuke-san?
Yuusuke: ::shudders::
Youko Kurama: ::trying to stop the insanity known as Kira:: You know something, Kira-chan. I'm curious about one thing.
Kira: ::flattered to be asked a question by the famous fox demon:: Go on, Youko-kun.
Youko Kurama: You have your own screen-name on this site. Why are you using Ivy Raine-chan's?
Kira: ::laughs:: Well, it's really quite simple-
Ivy Raine: ::bursts into Kira's room:: Yo, baby sis! Mum, Da, and little Yasmin are about to catch their flight to Paris. If you want to say bye, you'd better hurry.
Kira: ::smiling:: She's my older sister.
Ivy Raine: ::looks around:: Oh, konnichiwa, Youko-kun. How are you?
Youko Kurama: ::faintly:: Quite well, Ivy Raine-chan.
Yuusuke: What am I? Chopped liver?
Ivy Raine: No. You're fried reikai tantei.
Yuusuke: I had to ask.
Ivy Raine: Run along, baby sis. I'll be nice enough to continue the story while you're gone, okay?
Kira: Okay, oneesan! ::leaves room::
Ivy Raine: She's crazy. I hate to think of what you must be experiencing. She makes me tremble with fear sometimes.
Youko Kurama: She's locked Hiei-san in a room with Star Wars Christmas Special.
Ivy Raine: ::shudder:: She's a madwoman, I tell you. Anyway, I'll be nice this chapter and give everyone a break.
Youko Kurama and Yuusuke: ::bow deeply:: Our blessed savior.
Ivy Raine: Don't get too grateful. After this chapter, she's in control again.
Youko Kurama and Yuusuke: Awww, damn!
Chapter Four: Cherile Garrett's Mind
Cherile slept, her wound bound to stop the bleeding. She had bled for hours after Yukina-chan had started the Healing. There was something strange about the wound, for during the Healing, one moment it would be Healed and the next it would be bleeding like she had just been stabbed.
Youko and Hiei and stayed in the room, watching silently, worriedly. Every time Yukina-chan had been close to fainting, they had provided the energy to keep her up and to continue the Healing.
Now, three days later, she slept still. Yukina-chan had managed to Heal the worst of the internal injuries to the point where Cherile's body could heal itself. The damage had been extensive.
Hiei and Kurama (now returned to his human form with sincere apologies from Youko for snatching control like he did) took turns watching over her, mostly watching together, hoping for her to awaken. They both felt peaceful in her presence, though the serenity confused them.
Two days ago, after the most painful part of the Healing, Yukina-chan had dressed her in a kimono and permitted Hiei to lay her on the futon gently. Kurama (then in his Youko form) had tenderly pulled the cover over her and arranged her hair where he could pick out the leaves and twigs out. Then, he had washed out the crimson blood, repairing the damage the girl had done to her hair with that blasted training braid with a few Makai herbs and medicinal plants. Youko would have never permitted his hair to get into such poor condition. The breakage, the split ends, the dullness....
::Aren't we vain?:: Kurama asked his demon form.
Youko growled, :Shut up. I apologized, dammit.:
::Grow up.::
:I'm more grown than you! I would remind you that I'm older than even that damned Koenma!:
::Your point?::
:Humans have a phrase that goes, 'With age comes wisdom and maturity.':
::Doesn't apply to you. You're as immature as a two-month old kit.::
Youko fumed silently.
Yukina-chan came in every other hour to check on her patient and make sure that Cherile was okay.
Cherile's nose scrunched up, sniffing delicately. Youko immediately stopped fuming and his attention zoomed to her face. Slowly, thick lashes lifted to reveal sleepy, confused violet depths.
"Kurama? Hiei?" she yawned.
"Hai, Cherile-chan," Kurama replied, taking her hand. "Are you alright?"
She chuckled weakly. "Feel like I did the last time Urameshi used me as a punching bag. That was... eight... no, nine... months ago. I don't like it any better now."
Hiei had discreetly taken her hand with that infinite gentleness rarely seen, much less directed at someone....
Her stomach gurgled, ruining the moment. Hiei placed her hand back on the futon, standing.
"You are hungry, ne?"
Her eyes closed slightly. "Is it going to involve sitting up?"
"No," Kurama replied.
"Then, I'm bloody starving."
Kurama smiled as Hiei dashed off to retrieve something for the girl. "Yukina-chan said that we're to hand-feed you until you're better. Since she's acquired some of your more... charming... personality quirks, I'd advise listening."
Yukina-chan, due to the deepness of the contact required for Cherile's Healing, had become a true bitch. Even Genkai was avoiding her when it wasn't absolutely necessary to disturb her.
She laughed. "Really? That's intriguing." Then, soberly, "What happened?"
"You were stabbed and nearly died," Hiei said. They had decided that she didn't need to know that there were a bunch of demons after her for some odd, inexplicit reason.
Kurama fed her, pushing back willful blonde locks from time to time. They felt her slip away from them into her own mind.
"Cherile! Get yer sorry ass down hea right now!" her mother called in that exaggerated Southern accent. The one only people who strove to acquire it had.
"Hai, 'kasan?" she queried.
"Don't ya know how ta speak English yet, you stupid bitch?"
A slap to the face snapped her head to the left, hard. She swallowed the moan of pain that threatened to sound. If she made any sound that indicated pain, her mother wouldn't stop.
"Anyway, do th' dishes an' get yer sorry ass ta bed."
"Hai, 'kasan-dono. Gomen nasai," she murmured through bloody lips. Then, struggling for the English translation, said, "Yes...Mother. I am sorry."
Her mother went to the Master Bedroom where she never went. She didn't have the nerve. Only her parents went in there.
Immediately, the screaming began.
Slowly, she lifted her hand to her face and winced, the slight touch painful. There would be more bruises and more questions. She knew it and frowned.
There was a crash and she instinctively squeezed herself into the crack between the refrigerator and the wall. It was small and tight, but she was safe. Her mother couldn't reach back here.
Her stomach growled and she realized that she hadn't eaten today or yesterday, for that matter. She hated American food. Actually, she hated America, period.
America was killing her. Just like her parents were.
She hated the laughter of the other students at her halting English and her need of a translator to express more complicated thoughts. She hated the confines of the house since she didn't dare leave the place without express parental permission. The silence of the countryside was killing her, deafening her.
She wanted to be in Tokyo again. She missed the neon signs, the bright lights, the sounds, the smells, her friends and the constant stream of Japanese that flowed so easily from her lips being understood by others. She missed fighting that little punk, Urameshi, and teasing Kuwabara mercilessly.
The doorbell rang and she debated answering. She knew how much her parents hated being interrupted during a nice row, but something told her this was important. Something told her that she would sincerely regret it for the rest of her life if she did not answer the door now.
She opened the door after looking out the glass beside it. It was her sensei. A plate crashed beside her and the shards flew up and sliced her face. She absently wiped the blood from her face onto the black shirt she wore.
"Cherile. Oh damn," he breathed. "Oh, damn. I should have known. All of the signs were there, but I didn't read them."
He took her in his arms and she began crying.
"Sensei," she hiccupped as she wept on his shoulders. It had taken her a few minutes to decipher the meaning of his words, but she knew now. She spoke in rapid Japanese about how she had hated lying to him, yet it had been necessary. Her parents were dishonoring her family, but she had to make sure that she did not let that dishonor stain their public appearance. Was he mad at her? Could he forgive her and let her continue as his pupil?
"Shhh... It's alright, Cherile," he whispered, running gentle fingers through her hair...
It was strange for her to be called to the main office. She was one of the best-behaved students in the entire school. Even stranger, though, was the duo awaiting her.
One woman she recognized easily. It was Kaho-sensei, her interpreter.
She looked at the second woman, bowing to conceal her confused frown. She didn't know this woman, but she might be one of Kaho-sensei's friends. Carefully, the stranger said, "Konnichiwa. Watashi wa name Adams Brandi desuka?"
Adams-san's expression lit up as she nodded. She understood this woman. Then, Kaho-sensei said, I taught her that.
Why is Adams-san here? Is something wrong?
Kaho-sensei nodded. Then, Why didn't you tell me?! I could have helped!!
Instinctively, she withdrew to a corner, trying to hide.
Adams-san placed a calming hand on Kaho-sensei's shoulder and murmured a long string of English words that she didn't understand.
Adams-san said, 'How would you feel about returning to Tokyo?'
She smiled. I would be very, very happy. Japan is my home. Not this place. It's too cold and strange.
Things were beginning to look up!
It had been a long flight, she mused as they landed in Tokyo. Once off the plane, she smiled as she read the familiar kanji and heard the comforting explosion of sound.
She was home! Dear, sweet Tokyo...
She retrieved her bags and headed for the lobby. Surely someone was here to meet her plane. Her Japanese family had been so happy to hear that she was returning home to them.
Sweet Gods... No...
Cousin Camille was holding a sign that read 'Cherile Garrett' and did not look happy. Camille had never liked her. This was not a good sign.
"Cherile-chan, what's wrong?" Kurama and Hiei queried. Both had felt the quiver of pain.
"Is your wound aching?" Kurama added, eyes concerned and gentle.
She smiled weakly. "No, the wound doesn't hurt." Her hand brushed it and she hissed in pain. "Well, unless I do that," she amended.
"Memories. Some very bad," Hiei murmured, Jagan glowing slightly. Fortunately, in the brightness of the room, Cherile didn't really notice.
"Want to talk about it? I don't mean to sound like a cliché, but, sometimes, talking does help."
She shook her head, frowning. Her expression then turned thoughtful and somber, yet darker than any night Hiei had ever faced alone.
"How long have I slept?"
"Three days."
"Does Camille-san know where I am?" she inquired, voice careless.
Hiei and Kurama swapped a glance. They hadn't told her about the sleep-talking she had done in her crazed fever. The revelations.
They knew that she hated Camille. That she planned to run away, but didn't have enough money yet.
She had relived violent arguments, lonely nights, and painful days. So much, in one human... It amazed the two demons.
"No. Who's Camille-san?" Kurama queried, looking away in discomfort.
"My legal guardian and second cousin. She was very...kind... to take me in after the fiasco with my parents."
She's telling the truth, yet lying at the same time. Camille-san did take her in, but it wasn't from kindness. Camille-san was bribed.
/You've got my attention./
Camille-san receives some seven hundred dollars for every month she cares for Cherile and a hefty inheritance when her uncle, Cherile's grandfather, dies.
/Cherile knows?/
Hai. She walked in on the transaction once.
/Oh, damn,/ Kurama breathed, looking at the now-asleep blonde. Hesitantly, he grasped her hand. /How long ago?/
Five years. She was a strange child, kitsune. Cynical, sad, hopeless.
/Five years?! No wonder she is like she is. She's let it all stew within her. She wants revenge?/
Oddly enough, no. She merely wants someone to love her.
/Undoubtedly. Ningens are very weird when it comes to love./
Hiei was gently running his hands through her hair. Why are we so concerned about her? We've sat at her side in constant vigil for three days.
/I don't know, Hiei. She seems human enough, but we've both sensed her ki as a tangible force drawing us to her./
Hiei was silent. Then, slowly, She's different, for some reason, in some way, kitsune. Perhaps... Perhaps the Detective is correct. We suffer from ningen 'crushes.'
No, Kurama thought privately. This is much, much more dangerous than a mere crush, Hiei.
Ivy Raine: ::sighing::
Youko Kurama: Finally. One chapter of rest and relaxation.
Yuusuke: ::rolls eyes:: You know, Ivy Raine, you ain't half bad. Unlike your sister.
Kira: ::enters room:: What was that, Yuusuke-san?
Yuusuke: ::thinking quickly:: That you are more beautiful than your sister, Kira-chan.
Ivy Raine: ::chuckles, as she knows what was really said::
Kira: Why don't you go to retrieve Hiei-kun, Youko-kun? You too, Yuusuke-san. I think his punishment is over.
Ivy Raine: ::looks at her sister cautiously as Youko Kurama and Yuusuke leave the room:: It's not over, is it, Kira?
Kira: ::hits the 'Stop' button:: Of course not.
Ivy Raine: ::crosses herself::
Kira: ::hits 'Play'::
Youko Kurama and Yuusuke: ::scream::