Disclaimer:
Obsidian Sphinx: Well, we've been away for a while, so we'd like to refresh everyone's memory with the following statement. We do not own and are not in any way, shape, or form affiliated with Yu Yu Hakusho, either the show or the manga. All rights go to its creator, all of the other people involved who may claim some ownership, and all those legal folks.
Lonely Wanderer: Ch'duh!
Obsidian Sphinx: (Blink) Yeah.
Author's Note:
Obsidian Sphinx: Kay so we've been gone for a little while. ,
Lonely Wanderer: A LITTLE while?
Obsidian Sphinx: Okay, so we've been gone for a long while. ,
Lonely Wanderer: WE?
Obsidian Sphinx: (Glares) Fine, I'VE been gone for a long while. --
Lonely Wanderer: (Nods in satisfaction)
Obsidian Sphinx: (Rolls eyes) Anyway, we . . . er I am sorry for making everyone wait so long. I harbor a bad case of CLS that not even Lonely Wanderer can cure me of! But you guys have been great, and we really appreciate the reviews you've sent in.
Lonley Wanderer: Yeah, so as our gift to all of you for being so loyal and so tolerant (glares at Obsidian), we offer you this new installment! Enjoy!
Obsidian Sphinx: Happy Readings!
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Chapter: 4
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Hiei was vaguely aware of the gnawing pain that inhabited his body as he made his way from the Makai to the Ningenkai. His hands were bloody from the stab wound in his side but, somehow, it didn't seem like that big of a deal. He saw the blood of others all the time . . . why should he react any differently toward seeing his own? The only thing about the wound that seemed to bother him was the simple fact that it made his usually swift pace very sluggish in comparison.
He growled under his breath, a low rumble deep within his chest, and sped up. He hardly flinched when the dried blood, which acted as dam for a further onslaught of blood flow, cracked, and the wound began weeping red tears once more.
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Looking out the window one might smile at the promise of a fair temperature for the day, as the sky was blue and clear, sunlight touched the area with warm, golden fingers, and the neonate leaves and blossoms were just beginning to peer out at the world with an innocence expected in any youth. However, the image from that window would be a deceptive one, for the day was brisk, with air that rose up from the belly of Mother Nature and nipped playfully at her children. It prodded invariably at clothing, trying with devious hands to slowly chill the bones and dissatisfy the mind.
Kurama pulled his jacket tighter around his slender frame and pushed some stray hair securely behind his ear.
As usual, the organization in which he lived his life by showed in his attire and over all physical mien. No one would ever be able to guess that this particular young man had slept for an over all sum of one hour and fifteen minutes the prior night.
Kurama sighed as he felt a familiar wave of drowsiness waft over him. He let out a yawn, cursing the previous evening's brooding activities. He gently wiped the involuntary tears from his eyes, and the thought of a bus seat, no matter how uncomfortable, spurred his all ready swift stride. Perhaps he could take a short power nap on the bus ride to Genkai's.
He had decided as the sun was rising that morning that he should speak with the elderly woman about his seemingly impossible situation regarding a certain darkly clad jaganshi. He had never realized before that night that Hiei and the departed Kuronue had so much in common in physical appearance. Both of them sported pale, smooth skin, and finely sculpted features. Dark clothing and black hair made the unique color of their eyes distinctly vivid, and their dual inclination toward silence was quite surprising as well.
The bus stop seemed to come from out of nowhere, and luck shined on the former demon when the bus pulled up not three minutes after he had taken his seat on the bench. Kurama climbed aboard, paid his fair absently, and took a seat on the sparsely populated bus. He attempted to find a comfortable position so that he might doze for the duration of the forty-five minute bus ride.
And doze he did. He hadn't even stirred when the bus came to a halt at the base of the small mountain where Genkai's home was. A middle-aged woman sitting in front of him had been kind enough to gently shake him from his sleep. When he had come to his senses, Kurama had blushed and thanked her sincerely. She'd smiled and told him that he should get more sleep. Apparently, the dark color under his eyes was noticeable.
As the bus pulled away, Kurama took a deep breath and began to ascend the stone stairs that would eventually lead to the home of his wise friend. Under normal circumstances, the youko, turned human, would have been able to climb the stairs with practiced ease, but his speed seemed to be dramatically decreased due to his fatigue. So his walk was leisurely and paced to the degree that his body would not become any more exhausted than it all ready was.
The trilling song of the birds and the rustling of the leaves were his only companions. The sunshine filtered through the bulk of tree branches that shaded his head and spottily lit his intended path of travel. In Kurama's mind the little sprinkles of light acted as a beacon of hope, a saving grace if he were to think so far. They were gentle stepping stones that would lead him to an elderly savior whose words could perhaps purge his mind of the confusion he was enduring. He didn't want Hiei to flee from his thoughts, far from it, but he wanted the answerless questions and the mind numbing agitation to end. At the rate his abused and sleep deprived body was going he NEEDED it to end.
His infamous lips parted to let out a sigh. He paused in his languid stride and closed his eyes. They stung beneath his lids, but the act was not so much to rest his eyes. Tiredness would not fully affect his inner demon. He let his instincts guide him to the conclusion that there was no negative energy in the area. He could now sit and rest peacefully. Relieved, he plopped down none to gracefully on one of the stone steps and leaned back on his elbows. He opened his eyes and was greeted with the canopy of foliage. It really was beautiful.
The youko inside of him recalled times when he had laid stretched out on the golden meadows of the Makai, basking in the sunshine and admiring that cloudless lavender sky.
Shuichi remembered picnics with his beloved mother. He could see her smiling face and those eyes that had always held so much patience and love for him. It had been a time before complications.
For that moment, his being was once again separated into the kind-hearted human and the infamously aloof youko. Both yearned for simpler times. Shuichi wished to be the carefree young boy he had never been able to be, and youko Kurama wished to be the mischievous, exotic treasure of the Makai as he had once been.
However, one single thought merged the two together once more. Neither of them wished to embrace a time when Hiei wasn't there.
Another sigh was elicited from Kurama's mouth.
'Hiei,' he thought. 'What have you done to me?'
The fox idled on the step for a few moments longer before continuing his somewhat arduous trek up the expanse of stairs. He let his mind wander frivolously in an attempt to avoid thoughts of Hiei. He wanted his mind to be clear when he spoke to Genkai. Still, it seemed utterly impossible for his mind not to brush up against the topic every now and then. Wisely, Kurama would push it to the back of his mind, and with this reoccurring process the top of the stairs came quickly into view.
Fatigue spurred his steps again because once he was safely inside the temple he could surely sit down and rest. Mentally, his youko side berated him for giving into such human weaknesses, but his human side merely ignored the lecture and looked forward to the upcoming sit. It would be very pleasant.
'So there,' scolded Shuichi to youko Kurama.
All went silent in his mind again, much to his relief.
The action of taking that final step seemed to happen in slow motion for the fox, and he sighed in relief when he was finally able to see the quaint temple in all of it's simplistic glory.
As usual, Genkai's residence was peaceful and quiet, save for the wind through the trees, the birds singing, the bugs buzzing, and the water running. It was all very quaint and untouched by the ravenous city below; he rather enjoyed what he saw. Ah, but he was not there for pleasure; he was there to cleanse his mind of the insufferable questions that plagued him.
He began the short walk from the stairs to the temple entrance with no intention of stopping to admire the view, but his ancient love for beauty was nothing to be ignored. He paused briefly under a very old tree to admire the foliage, and it was in that very moment that he felt a strange sort of tingling on the periphery of his senses. Immediately alert, Kurama attempted to place this weak but familiar ki signature. Suddenly, he heard a slight rustling above him, and he turned his face upward just in time for a single drop of bright red blood to splash on the pale skin beneath his right eye. Without looking, he wiped the blood from his face with the back of his hand, for he couldn't take his widening eyes away from the sight above him.
"Oh, God . . . Hiei . . ." The phrase was a ghost on Kurama's lips.
His mind was spinning. How did it happen? When? Where had the petite youkai been all that time? Why did he have to turn up in such a state?
It was Shuichi's innocent mind that hindered Kurama from acting immediately. Fortunately, however, the youko quickly came into play. Wide green eyes transformed into wise, serious orbs, and he wasted no further time in utilizing his energy to manipulate the tree branches that supported Hiei's delicate body. The massive branches bent down ward, their leaves nearly dusting the ground, and the jaganshi gently slid from the tree into Kurama's waiting arms. The fox dared not look at the bloody trail left on the tree's bark.
Unconsciously, he hugged Hiei's limp form to his chest, unmindful of the blood that seeped through his jacket. It was yet another article of clothing that would probably have to be thrown away. He'd add it to the growing collection. At the moment, his priority was the very battered Hiei.
Kurama, despite his dear burden, was graceful as he sprinted urgently toward the temple, his heart pounding in his ears. Hiei was so still and cold against his chest that he found himself actually frightened.
'Please, just hang on . . .' he thought.
The shallow clunk of his shoes against the wooden floorboards of the temple invaded his mind as he frantically reached for the light door and slid it open. It was darker inside, the only light being the muted sunshine through the thin paper covering of the door, the sparse candles in the center of a cherry wood table, and the glowing television screen that appeared to be showing the stats from a video game. The idea of such an elderly woman playing a child's game was really very amusing, but now was not the time to dwell on it.
"Genkai!" Kurama shouted. He glanced down at Hiei and took note of how much paler and sallow Hiei's delicate skin looked. "Genkai!" He called once more.
"Bring him in here," came the sudden reply.
The familiar voice was coming from one of the back bedrooms so Kurama quickly navigated his way and found another dimly lit room, though this one was a bedroom. He also found the elderly Genkai kneeling over a futon as her old but strong hands soaked a rag in a bowl of water.
"Hiei's--" Started the fox.
"Yes, I know. I sensed it only a few moments ago. Bring him here and lay him down. We'll do our best to help him until Yukina returns to heal him," she explained.
Kurama put forth no arguments and delivered Hiei to the futon where he and Genkai set about evaluating and cleansing his many wounds. The largest, of course, was the gaping hole in his side. Blood still spilled from it, and it was quite infected, evident by the severe reddening of the tender flesh around it and the mucus like puss that seemed to bubble from the lips of the gash.
"What happened to him?" Genkai posed one of the few questions that Kurama was unable to answer.
The fox only shook his head and leaned back on his heels. "I am uncertain,
Genkai. I found him unconscious in a tree just outside."
Genkai raised a thin eyebrow and continued to dab at a scratch below the jaganshi's hairline. "What would he have been doing here and for how long? I sensed you approaching from a distance but not Hiei's weak ki until only a little while ago," she said.
Tiredly, Kurama shrugged. "It's nearly impossible to tell."
The two fighters tended to their fallen friend a little longer until Yukina happened into the bedroom. Upon seeing Hiei in such a state, the koorime gasped and immediately went to his side.
Kurama watched on in worried exhaustion as Yukina began the healing process. It really was amazing to see scratches erased from skin like the chalk on a blackboard and to observe the edges of that appalling stab wound melt together into a smooth, textured scar.
When Yukina had finished, she let her hands fall into her lap and briefly closed her lovely eyes. She took a few deep breaths and proceeded to smile weakly.
"He'll be alright now," she said in a small voice.
"You, on the other hand, need to rest, Yukina," said Genkai from her shadowed corner of the room.
The koorime girl looked back lovingly at the elderly woman and nodded slowly. "Yes, I suppose you're right, but . . ." Yukina looked down to Hiei then and placed a cool, gentle hand to his forehead. "I would much prefer that someone stay at his side."
Kurama watched the action with satisfaction. Yukina did not know for certain of her relationship with Hiei, but it hardly mattered because in her mind she had already adopted him as her brother.
"Please, Yukina, rest. I'll watch over Hiei," he offered.
"Thank you, Kurama," replied Yukina. She bowed shallowly and proceeded to leave the room, giving one last fond glance at the very still jaganshi.
Once she was gone, the room was filled with a rather omnipotent silence, so much in fact that it seemed to be empty. In reality, however, there were three beings inside: one fallen, one dubious, and one wise.
Genkai stood up slowly, grunting slightly as she stood. Kurama's green eyes followed her movements. The tutor caught his observant gaze and scowled.
"I'm old," she said quietly. "I've been old for a very long time now. I've seen many things, learned a lot, taught many students, and enjoyed my life. I died once and then I lived again, Kurama. My mind and my tongue are as sharp as ever, but my body has been slowing down. For example, my eyesight isn't as keen as it used to be, but I don't need excellent vision to see that you're more a part of this than you're telling me . . . perhaps even more a part of it than even you know."
The kitsune looked stunned for a moment and was unable to respond. What could he say to those accusing words?
"I--"
Genkai merely turned her back to him and started out of the room. "You stay with him as you told Yukina you would. We will talk later."
"Thank you," murmured Kurama as he watched her leave.
Silence seeped back into the room, and he remembered his tiredness. His limbs were heavy, his eyelids were droopy, and an awkward nauseating sensation had settled in his stomach.
His sleepy gaze then beheld Hiei, and his heart lurched in his chest. This was not the state of one such as Hiei, cold, still, and pained. Suddenly, an idea dawned on him.
"Pain, Hiei. That's it, isn't it? You're . . . in pain, but it's different than any you've ever felt . . . somehow." Kurama whispered. He felt he had to because it seemed like he had stumbled upon some revolutionary secret.
As this new thought nibbled at his mind, Kurama lay down on the wooden floor next to his dark friend, sharing his precious body heat.
"It hurts very much, doesn't it?" He asked quietly. "If only you would trust me, dear friend, I would share it with you."
A wave of drowsiness covered Kurama and, against his will, he fell victim to sleep.
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(tbc . . . we promise!)