Forgotten

Summary: "It's like…like I don't know who I am anymore. Who I belong to…." ANGSTY Hiei/OC

Author's Notes: I hope you guys can forgive all my spacing errors in the first chapter. I swear my computer has mood swings…. Anywho, the YYH characters will be appearing in this chapter like I promised (yay!). Oh, and to my dear reviewers:

sammy: Thanks for being the first reviewer for this fic! I hope you like the rest of it as much as the first chapter!

Kurama'sfoxykitsune: Wow, demanding much? Well, you keep reviewing! It'll help me update more often if I know there are people reading this fic.

Moojuice Nne: Thanks for the compliments. And for helping me with my writer's block. You're such a sweetheart! As to the street lingo… it's amazing what you can learn from watching Cold Case Files once or twice. Or obsessively.

DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Yu Yu Hakusho. Much as I wish I do….

Part Two: Starry Night


"Twenty. Thirty. Forty. Fifty. Sixty," Akiko murmured as she slid the bills one by one through her hands. She was sitting cross legged on the couch, far away from Cairo and the other girls, in what was probably the most secluded part of the warehouse she now called home. Strands of her wavy auburn hair that had fallen loose from her high ponytail fell into her eyes as she reached under the couch for a small wooden box in which she kept her earnings.

A series of laughs erupted from the collection of girls at the other end of the room.

"And then," one of the girl's voices exclaimed, dripping with giddiness, "the he says, 'Well, how much do you think you're worth?'"

Once again, the rest of the girls chorused in with laughter. Akiko rolled her eyes. Honestly, did that girl really think that everyone else needed to know about her clients? Heaving a sigh, Akiko slid the money into the box and returned the box to its spot under the couch.

"Hey 'Kiko!" Cairo prodded, sneaking up on the younger girl and grabbing her in a quasi-headlock. "Whatcha doin' over here by yourself? Why don't you come over an' talk to the girls?"

As she fought to free herself from Cairo's grasp, Akiko replied, "'Cause I don't want to talk about work. I don't like to think about work."

A frown creased Cairo's face, and she immediately released Akiko. "Aw, sweetie," the older girl sighed, "you've gotta get over this. Like it or not, this is where life's dropped you. This is who you are now." And Cairo returned to the group on the other side of the room.

"No," Akiko whispered at Cairo's retreating back. "This is who you are."


All she had to do was loose Cairo. Shouldn't have been too hard.

But it was.

It was almost as if Cairo was expecting her to make a run for it. Maybe Cairo was smarter than Akiko took her for. But Cairo couldn't keep an eye on the girl forever. Could she? God, Akiko hoped not.

After half an hour, the night's first costumer arrived for Cairo. With half a glance at her younger companion, Cairo walked off with the balding man who had bought her.

As soon as Cairo was out of sight, Akiko set off running back to the warehouse.

By the time she reached the run-down warehouse, a rose tint flushed her porcelain skin, and her breath came in short pants. Akiko quickly peeked inside one of the filthy windows to make sure none of the other girls were lingering. When she was satisfied that no one remained in the building, she snuck into the building, still being wary, and she crept over to the couch that hid her box of money. As swiftly and quietly as she could, Akiko stuffed all of the money she had made in the past two weeks into her knapsack with her clothes and scuttled out of the building.

She stood outside the warehouse shivering in the cold and taking in the look of the building for what she hoped was the last time. A small sigh of relief escaped her lips. She supposed that she was more ashamed of her new… career than she had allowed herself to admit. But now, she was getting away.

And she wasn't coming back.


Kurama took a deep breath, taking in a taste of the crisp winter air. It really was quite nice to get out of the house every once in a while. See the stars….

Okay, so he wasn't really supposed to be out this late. But still, it was most pleasant.

He was leaning against a streetlamp, one foot on the ground and the other resting at the base of the lamp in a very "handsome movie star-esque" way when he saw her.

Or rather, when she ran headlong into him going ninety to nothing.

"Oh m'God, I'm so sorry," she said as she helped him off the ground. "I wasn't paying any attention to where I was going."

The girl continued to apologize even as Kurama got to his feet, brushing the dust off of his clothes. But she never met his eyes. Almost as if she was afraid of him. Weird.

"… And well, it's just been such a really hectic night that I haven't been paying attention to anything I've done," she continued as she reached for her bag, which had been dropped during the accident. "I'm really sorry."

"It's alright, really," Kurama replied kindly, handing her the knapsack. It was then that he finally saw her face. Or, more accurately, he saw her eyes. Huge, emerald and… haunted. But brimming with determination. He'd seen eyes like that before, only those eyes had been crimson as opposed to green. "Do you need any help?" Kurama questioned, studying the girl intensely.

She looked away from him, ending his brief view of her. "None that you could give me," she whispered, more to herself than to him.

Kurama opened his mouth to say something else, but before he could speak, the girl had vanished.

"Odd," he muttered, turning to walk back home. As he stepped, he noticed a small card lying at his feet. A driver's license bearing the strange girl's photograph. He pocketed it. "Very odd indeed."


"I'm sorry, Miss," the teller said, adjusting her glasses agitatedly, "but as I said before, we can't let you make a withdrawal with out some form of identification."

Akiko sighed exasperatedly, furiously brushing her thick locks out of her face. "But I gave you the account number and the password and the key to my box!" she exclaimed, frustrated. "How could I possibly know all that and be a fraud?"

"I'm sorry Miss," the teller bit back. "But it's bank policy. I need to see a driver's license or an I.D. card."

"Urgh, fine," Akiko relented as she began digging through her knapsack for her license.

Hairbrush. Clothes. Money. Where the hell was her license?

The teller was by now, tapping her fingers impatiently on the countertop. "Maybe you should just go to the back of the line until you can find some I.D.," the teller suggested coldly.

"Yeah," Akiko muttered, dazedly. "Yeah… maybe I should do that…."

Akiko walked away from the counter and out to the front of the bank, where she sat on the concrete curb. This was really strange. She knew she had her license when she left the warehouse…. How could it be gone now?

Then she remembered.

"Damn it," she hissed. She must have dropped it when she ran into that guy. "Great. Now I have no home and no I.D." She stood up and kicked at the curb. "Sucks to be me right now."


The house was hardly warm and welcoming. And it didn't give off that happy, fuzzy feeling that "good" homes are supposed to have. But this was where the girl's license said that she lived, so Kurama had come. A feeling of discomfort fell upon him as he knocked smartly on the door. Assorted grumblings and belches reached his ears as someone inside the house came to the door and opened it.

"What do you want?" the broad shouldered man who had answered the door demanded, lifting a glass bottle to his mouth.

Kurama winced inwardly. The man smelled heavily of liquor, and it burned the kitsune's sensitive nose. "I'm sorry to bother you, Sir," he said politely, "but does…" he glanced at the license for the girl's name, "Akiko Mishimi live here? She dropped this when she ran into me last night." Kurama held up the driver's license.

Anger flared in the man's eyes. "What do you know about her, huh?" he demanded, wiping the dampness from his mouth with his forearm. "What do you know about that damn slut? She out there trying to make it alone? Is she?"

Kurama was a tad bit shocked. He backed away slightly, not sure what the man would do.

"You tell my little bitch of a daughter," the man breathed, "that she'd better never show her hide around this house again, or I'll kill her!" And the man slammed the door in Kurama's face.

Still somewhat shocked, Kurama made his way back to the sidewalk. He hadn't expected to come across a sadistic father. Although, it did make sense when he thought about it. It explained the girl's reluctance to meet his eyes. But it didn't fully explain the horror that her face conveyed. Kurama slipped the license back into his pocket, a grim look on his face.

He'd just have to locate this girl and find out more about her, wouldn't he?


Author's notes: Hmm… this chapter wasn't as good as the first one. I hope I didn't disappoint the readers of the first chapter. Oh, before anyone asks, no, Akiko is NOT Kurama's sister. That idea has been done to death (no offense to those authors whose OCs are Kurama's sister, there are just so many…). Yeah. This chapter was really hard to write. I started it about six times, and I still don't think it turned out all to well. Well, chapter three will be better, I promise! I'll start working on it tomorrow (and hopefully it won't be as temperamental as this stupid chapter was). Well, I really have nothing more to add here. Read and review, please.