As with my other stories, updates shall be irregular for a little bit due to lack of time during the week due to school and the weekend due to the festival, but I'll do my best to give you guys something during then, okay? Anyways, I hope you find this chapter somewhat humorous; I'll be back with more when I can.
'I should have listened to Yomi,' Hiei thought to himself. He listened as people passed his room, hoping that someone would stop at his door. After a while he heard the lock on the door turn, the door opened, and the Yoko appeared. "Finally!" Hiei said.
"Oh?" He quirked an eyebrow. "Did you miss me?"
"No," Hiei growled. "I need to use the bathroom."
The Yoko smirked. "Okay then." He grabbed Hiei by the wrist and led him into the hall.
"Wait, what about my pants?"
His smirk grew wider. "What do you need your pants for to use the bathroom?" They passed a few gangsters in the hallway; Hiei felt his face grow hot as they snickered and made crude remarks.
"Kurama, give him one of your thongs," one of them called.
"Shave his legs!" another said.
"I hate you," Hiei muttered to his captor.
The Yoko looked at him thoughtfully. "They may have a point," he said slowly. He smiled mischievously. "Want to borrow one of my razors?"
"Fuck off!"
"Or," he continued, "if you're really good, maybe I'll let you use some of my Brazilian wax-"
"No!" he snapped. "Give me my pants!"
"Someone's feisty," the cross dresser declared. "Why do you need your pants? If it's modesty you're worried about, those boxers more than cover everything."
"I should have expected that someone like you would consider this 'covered'," he grumbled.
"Well, you're not getting your pants back. I figured their absence would make you uncomfortable- so long as you don't have them, I'll bet you won't be going anywhere. You could bet one of the papers would be sure to run a picture of the beloved billionaire- that would be you- in his underwear, right on the front page."
"Shut up." The Yoko was right, though. If he could avoid it, Hiei didn't want to have to flee to the police in his boxers. The rumors that would produce…
The Yoko kicked open a door, revealing a small bathroom that reeked of mildew and urine. "It's badly in need of cleaning, I know," he said. "But it's still functional." He let go of Hiei. "Have at it."
Hiei walked to the toilet, and then paused when he realized that the door was still open, and the Yoko was standing in the doorway. "Do you mind?"
"No." Hiei glared. "What? I have to make sure you don't climb out a window or something."
"But you have my pants- wasn't that to make sure I didn't leave?"
"Oh yeah…" the Yoko murmured. He smiled. "Well, my house, my rules. And as far as prisoners are concerned, I institute an open-door bathroom policy."
"Son of a bitch," Hiei growled.
"That's right," he countered coolly. "But remember: you're a hostage, and I'm your subjugator; I don't have to kiss your ass like most others- if anything, it should be the other way around. Now go or I'm taking you back to your room." Hiei glowered, but pulled down his boxers and urinated. "Are you done?" he asked after a minute. The shorter one nodded. "Good." Barely giving Hiei time to pull his boxers up, the Yoko took his arm and practically dragged him back to his room. "I have things I need to do, so the Toguros shall guard you. Entertain yourself if you can, though I really don't give a damn if you can or not."
Hiei could think of at least one thing to do: sleep. Last night he had the pleasure of listening to a woman- Ruka, he assumed- being tortured and, he was sure, killed. And then someone in the room next to his had spent a generous portion of the night crying. Who it was, he didn't know. Perhaps he wasn't the only prisoner in this house.
"What are you going to do?" Toguro asked.
"Never you worry," Kurama said. "I have an idea."
"You don't look so well."
He shrugged. "I didn't sleep so well last night. Quit worrying over me. Keep an eye on him," he gestured to the door. "By the way, I'm putting the both of you in charge of body disposal. I don't care how; knock yourself out."
"Our pleasure," the shorter, spindly Toguro said evilly.
"I thought you'd enjoy that." He smoothed his skirt. "Oh, and one other thing- if Karasu shows his worthless hide around here today, flatten him."
Detectives Koenma and Botan sat nervously by while their boss looked over pictures from the crime scene. The totaled limousine was most definitely Hiei Jaganshi's; it bore his seal: a malevolent-looking eye. The chauffeur and bodyguard, both riddled from bullets. Jaganshi's walking stick with the silver dragon handle. Blood, but none of it the billionaire's. Broken glass, mangled metal… "What do you mean there weren't any bullets?" the lieutenant demanded.
Koenma cleared his throat. "There were bullet holes, but no actual bullets. But there should be; the wounds were all entry and no exit."
"We're thinking maybe they were ice bullets," Botan added.
"Terrific," the lieutenant said sarcastically. "Then we probably have a professional on our hands. They must have wanted him alive; it's unlikely that a professional would have missed him. Any chance this is the same assassin from before?"
"The first attempt was much clumsier, and we found the bullet. Besides, the first assassin was a woman."
"And who says this one isn't?" Botan asked, glaring at Koenma.
"Knock it off you two," the lieutenant barked. "Check back with your witnesses; I'll look in later."
The detectives both heaved sighs of relief when they left the lieutenant's office. "Gods, what an ogre," Koenma muttered.
"Help! Somebody help me!"
They looked down the hall; it appeared that two women- of questionable virtue, judging from their clothes- had just burst into the station. "I am so glad we don't have to deal with that," Botan said.
"Oh yeah- why deal with two hookers when you can work on the Jaganshi case?" Koenma asked sarcastically. "Our job is so much easier."
"What's wrong?" an officer, a young man, asked. The women- both clad in indecently fashioned leather- practically threw themselves at him.
"Please, Sir," the redheaded woman blubbered. "My friend and I were out looking for work, and we met these men, but they didn't want to pay, and they pinned us down and-" she broke off, burying her head in the officer's shirt and sobbing noisily.
"Uhm, Ma'am? Have you and your friend been to a hospital?"
"What?" the other woman, a short girl with aqua hair, asked. "But I thought we were supposed to go to the police?"
"You are, but we need proof that you were raped. You'll both have to submit to a rape kit."
Both women looked distraught; the younger one sank to the floor and began to cry hysterically. "But the hospital's uptown!" the redhead protested. "If we go up there everyone will take on look at us and- Oh!" she tripped over her companion and crashed into a passerby. "Oh," she sniffed. "I'm so sorry, young man."
Yusuke blinked. "Uhm, that's okay. Are you all right?"
She wiped inky tears from her overly-made up face. "As fine as I can be, given the circumstances." She looked up at him. "Have you ever been raped?"
"What!" he asked, shocked.
"I think I need a hug," she sobbed, wrapping her arms around him.
"Okay," Keiko growled. "That's enough." She separated Yusuke and the redhead. "Let's go, Yusuke." She pulled him down the hall.
"Hey Urameshi, I think she likes you!" Kuwabara exclaimed, following them and grinning like a fool.
"Who were they?" the younger woman asked the cop trying to comfort her.
"Oh, I think those were the kids from the Jaganshi case," he said absently, stroking her hair. "Don't you worry now; I'm here. Everything will be- Oh, damn it. Hang on a second, ladies. I have to answer the phone."
His call lasted barely a minute, but by the time he hung up and turned around, both women had vanished.
"Have they found Hiei yet, Dad?" Shura asked.
Yomi shook his head. "No, they haven't. Have you changed yet?"
"I changed when we got home."
"Well how am I supposed to know that?"
"Can I go watch T.V.?"
"Fine; no news channels though." Hiei's kidnapping was the headline of all the newspapers and stations. He'd forbad Shura from reading or watching anything on the matter- if they turned up anything morbid, he wanted Shura to hear it from him rather than a reporter or the evening paper.
That and he didn't believe that Shura had realized the two of them may well be targets to whoever abducted Hiei, too. He'd already pulled the boy out of school, for the time being. Like most boys his age, Shura couldn't be happier with the prospect of legitimately missing school. Save for attending Shigure's funeral today, all Shura had done was watch television and goof off.
Yomi prepared a cup of coffee, fetched the Braille newspaper, and went to sit at the back patio. He enjoyed his free time here, sitting by the garden. He couldn't see the vegetation surround him- he hadn't been able to do that in a long time- but he could smell it, feel it, hear the rustle of leaves and grass as the wind blew through it. So unlike his surroundings as a child. In his youth, there were no plants in the neighborhood he grew up in, except for half-dead grass. Everyday he choked on the dusty haze that constantly hovered over the ground from lack of plant growth to anchor the top soil. Except for one house, on that was lucky enough not only to keep grass alive, but other plants too- flowers, bushes, even some trees- thriving and green. But in time, even that yard too fell barren.
His ears picked up something, a foot step. He sipped his coffee, gently set the cup back on its coaster, and continued reading. Gradually the foot steps grew louder, closer. 'Moron,' Yomi thought. Each step the invader took, to Yomi, was as loud as Shura's stereo. He found his cane, discreetly grabbing its middle.
Suddenly, Yomi sprang to his feet, whirled around, and struck out with the cane. He afforded a cruel smile of satisfaction when he heard a sickening crack, followed by a thud. He reached for the knob handle of the cane, nodding casually when he felt a warm, sticky liquid there.
"Mr. Yomi, I thought I heard-" the maid stopped as she approached, staring at the body on the floor, with its head bashed in, horrified. "Mr. Yomi?"
"Darling," the blind man said placidly. "Would you be a dear and notify the authorities?"