Yu Yu Hakusho Inversed
Chapter 16
August 15, 2005

"Where are we going?" whined Kuwabara.

"Shut up!" Kurama growled. 'My gang, my house, my leg...'

"I agree with him," Hiei argued. "Where are we going?"

'I don't need this,' he thought. "Deeper into the downtown."

"Why?" asked Hiei. "The downtown's swarming with you guys, right?"

"What, gangsters? Parts of it. But nowadays, there's some areas of the district that even most of them don't venture into."

"So," Kuwabara said, "we'll be safe from that Karasu guy there?"

Kurama, and what remained of his followers, snorted. "One thing that I'll give Karasu is that when he's after something, he doesn't give up."

"So, he'll kill you?"

"Unless I kill him first," the cross-dresser replied mildly.

"Why don't you go to the police?" asked Yusuke.

"Why do you ask stupid questions? Somebody like me- hell, any one of us," he gestured to Toguro, Yukina, and Bui, "can't go to the police without running the high risk of being locked up and ourselves. The only time I've ever willingly gone to the police was that time I stole you wallet."

"You stole my what!"

"How else were we supposed to track you down?"

Behind them, Keiko and Kuwabara groaned angrily. "Way to go, Urameshi!" said Kuwabara crossly. He picked up a rock and chucked it at Yusuke's head.

"Hey!" Yusuke found a larger rock and returned fire.

"Hey! You're not supposed to fight back!" Soon a violent rock fight commenced.

"Why are they with us, anyhow?" the quiet Bui asked.

"I gave them a choice," said Kurama wearily.

"Why?"

"I don't know- perhaps Karasu is right: Age has softened me." He shrugged. "Maybe we'll be lucky and they stone each other to death. Toguro, I notice your brother is missing. Did you not find him?"

Toguro narrowed his eyes behind his sunglasses. "I found him; he decided to league with Karasu. He's dead now."

"It's okay, Otata," Yukina practically sang. "Sometimes when brothers turn out to be traitors, it's okay to kill them."

Hiei winced, but the Yoko actually laughed. "Such cheery cynicism," he said. He turned around and gave Hiei a sly look. The billionaire glared, but all this accomplished was an evil grin. The Yoko examined their surroundings- a difficult feat, Hiei would have thought, as it was night and they were engulfed in shadow- and announced, "We're here."

Hiei and the others looked; Keiko pulled out a lighter and flipped it, producing just enough light that they could barely make out the letters beneath the grime of an old sign: Daddy-O's Garage. The Yoko pushed open the door and led the way in. The smell of metal, oil, and grease greeted them; a fine layer of dust kicked up with every step they took.

"Welcome to Daddy-O's," the Yoko said, mimicking a flight attendant. "Keep your arms and legs away from everything, lest you want tetanus (or something worse), and please don't feed the spiders, rats, bats, alley cats, junkyard dogs, and deranged old men." He paused. "Speaking of that last one, if you do encounter an old man, and he's either dead or babbling nonsense, he's supposed to be here."

This caused Hiei to raise an eyebrow, but he decided not to comment.

"Anyways," the Yoko continued, "do as you will, but the upstairs is mine." And saying thus, the transvestite found a narrow, crude little staircase that hugged one wall, and ascended out of sight.

"Crazy dead old guy?" Kuwabara snickered. "Yeah, right. Isn't this the same guy- or whatever the hell he is- who said we weren't going to leave his basement alive?"

"I think he said we might not," Yusuke corrected.

"Whatever. So, uh, what do we do now?" Yusuke and Keiko shrugged.

Hiei ignored the kids- they for the most part bored him- and looked around. Toguro, Bui, and Yukina were picking through pieces of cars and scrap metal. He heard the Yoko walking around upstairs. Then he furrowed his brow as he heard what sounded like a busted television.

"What's that?" Keiko said.

"Do you hear it too?" he asked her.

"That white noise?" He nodded. "I think it's coming from there." She pointed to a door near the base of the stairs.

He approached the door, opened it slowly. He grimaced at the sight inside.

The room was tiny, an old office, he thought. Against the back wall was a metal bookcase stocked with moldy magazines and dead plants. An out-of-date calendar hung from the wall, featuring a leather-clad woman (whose outfit reminded Hiei of the Yoko) straddling a motorcycle. The white noise he'd heard came from a mini-T.V. set, which rested on the edge of a desk. A few moths fluttered abut the set, attracted to the blue-white light it emanated, while two fat gray rats sat perched on the desk, feasting on an open bag of potato chips.

The rats started when he stepped into the room; one stood his ground, seeming to glower at Hiei for his intrusion, while the other fled- climbing over a booted foot that rested on the edge of the desk, and then disappearing. The owner of the foot was an old man, who lay kicked back in a swivel chair with the stuffing of the seat spilling out. His ancient face was framed by a mane of long, dirty white hair, capped by a Chopper's due rag, and a beard to match. His clothing- a black tee shirt and jeans stained by sweat and grease and oil- suggested that he was (or once was) a mechanic. The man lay very still, his mouth hanging open, a fly buzzing around his face.

"Whoa..." Hiei looked behind him. He'd been joined by the three kids. "Is he dead?" the carrot-topped one asked.

"I don't know," Hiei replied. "It looks that way..."

"What the hell are you talking about? Let me through." Yukina pushed past them all, and observed the old man. "He dead?"

"I don't-."

"I wasn't asking you!" she snapped at Hiei. She lifted a screw driver off the desk, and poked him none-too-gently in the shoulder. He stirred, and hurled a string of insults at her. "Hm, guess not," she mused. "Hey..." She'd found a cooler behind the old man's chair. "Score!" Beer had been discovered. "Thanks, Grandpa," she said, kissing him on the cheek and, carrying the cooler with surprising strength for one so small, shoved her way out of the office.

"That's my beer!" shouted the old man. He pulled open a desk drawer with such ferocity that it flew out of its frame and onto the floor. Then he pulled out a wrench and brandished it like a madman. "Damn bitch!"

"Daddy-O, Daddy-O, Daddy-O," a rich alto voice crooned, almost soothingly. "Put the wrench away. Wouldn't want our visitors to think you're deranged or something, right?" The Yoko appeared, taking the wrench from the old man's hands.

"Same damn place, Red," "Daddy-O" said. He looked the cross-dresser up and down. "Still alive, eh?"

"I should say the same to you." The Yoko turned to Hiei. "This is Daddy-O, my dear, of Daddy-O's Garage."

"Who's that?" the mechanic mumbled. "That your boyfriend?"

The Yoko laughed; Hiei narrowed his eyes. "I'm Hiei Jaganshi," he said.

"Never heard of you."

"I'm co-president of Makai Enterprises."

"Ooh, and I'm the runner-up Duchess of Zanzibar!" Daddy-O poured out what was left of the potato chips (upsetting the remaining rat) and placed the bag atop his head in the fashion of a crown.

"I would have thought you were the Potato Pope," said the Yoko, amused. "We're going to crash here for a while, okay?"

Daddy-O cast a look at the room's other occupants. "Gang's gone to shit," he grumbled.

"I know," the Yoko agreed, thinking of his house going up in flames.

"Yeah..." the old man waved his hand. "Stay if you want; I don't care." He examined Hiei once more. "Kuronue would kick your ass!" he growled. Hiei widened his eyes.

"Good night, Daddy-O." The Yoko shooed Hiei and the rest out of the office, shutting the door. "He's rather insane," he admitted. "It's unwise to disturb him," he added warningly. "You" - he seized Hiei by the arm- "you're coming with me. You" - he pointed to Yusuke, Keiko, and Kuwabara- "go see if you can bum a beer off Yukina or something."

"But we're underage!" protested Yusuke. (Keiko and Kuwabara groaned.) "That's illegal!"

"So is kidnapping," retorted the redhead. He grabbed Hiei by the sleeve and pulled the billionaire (struggling to keep hold of the box) upstairs. "Drop the box," he said, pointing to the floor by the hide-a-bed. Hiei put it down. The Yoko beckoned for Hiei to sit down on said bed.

"I'm not interested," said Hiei bluntly.

"That isn't what I'm after!" he snapped.

"Then why'd you drag me up here!" Hiei had had it with the Yoko's odd antics.

"Because I need someone here in case I pass out!" the cross-dresser snarled. "And they're all drinking downstairs!"

Before Hiei could further protest, the Yoko had produced a knife, sat down by Hiei, and proceeded to hike up his skirt. Hiei stared. "What are you-?" He left off, however, once he saw the wounds on his thigh, just below his hip. "What happened? Is that why you've been limping?"

The Yoko pulled down his stocking. "Caught some flying pieces of stuff Karasu blew up. Guess that's what I get for being nice to those kids. And yes, this is why." The Yoko appeared hesitant for a moment, but then dug the knife into the flesh of his thigh. Hiei grimaced in disgust; the Yoko grimaced in pain.

"You should probably see a doctor instead of-."

"Yeah, great idea," the Yoko interrupted dryly. "Maybe the hospital will have a daycare center where I can drop off you and the kids, too." He gritted his teeth, eyes watering. The knife found something. The Yoko squeezed his eyes shut, dug the blade under the intrusion, and cut it, and the surrounding flesh, out of his leg. The invasive object, a large splinter of wood, landing on the floor amidst chunks of bloody meat. Hiei squirmed.

The Yoko's complexion had paled, and his breathing was shallower. He swallowed, and stabbed the knife back in. "What are you doing!" exclaimed Hiei.

"There's more in there," he hissed through his teeth. "I can feel it." Hiei's stomach churned when the Yoko abandoned his knife and began feeling around for splinters with his very fingers.

Five, ten more minutes passed, Hiei feeling more and more sick as the Yoko pulled out more and more bloody splinters. "I think that's all," the Yoko said, looking too pale for Hiei's comfort. "There's, um, there's some rags in that drawer over there..."

"Right." Hiei retrieved a bundle of these rags and set them down next to the Yoko, who immediately began pressing them to the tear in his leg. "Are you going to be okay?" There was the sheen of sweat gathering on his face.

He nodded, applying more pressure. "Count yourself lucky I didn't lose consciousness."

"Squeamish?"

"Kind of. I haven't been shot in a long while, but we always tried our best to tend to ourselves. I've never been great at operating on myself; he'd have to do it for me sometimes."

He was about to ask who "he" was, but he noticed something wet-looking on the front of the Yoko's shirt. "What's that?"

"What?" Hiei held his hand against the spot; it came back sticky and crimson-colored. The Yoko lifted up his shirt, revealing the slit there in his abdomen. He groaned. "Rags, please. And could you please ask Daddy-O if he has running water?"

"Loser!" Yukina exclaimed. "Pay up!"

Bui stared at her a moment, then handed over his change. She grinned. "Number eight, you rock!" She poured beer onto the floor as tribute to the rat dubbed "Number eight."

Yusuke and Keiko rolled their eyes. "Rat races," she muttered. "Weirdoes."

"Did you see the way she took that quiet guy's money?" Kuwabara sighed. His companions looked at him. "What?"

"Figures," muttered Keiko.

Yukina looked up from counting her winnings. "What do you want?" she asked rudely.

"Beer can," Hiei said. "Out of the cooler, please."

"What happened to you?" she sneered, pointing to the bruise on his forehead.

"Woke up Daddy-O."

"Well, maybe I don't want to give you one."

"Please."

"Ohh, poor Hiei got no beer for pissing off the crazy old guy. Koorime are worked to death in the mountains and sold into prostitution, but your bruise is much more serious."

"Koorime also would have liked to see me turn into a Hiei-cicle. Or be gunned down in my hotel room," he accused.

Yukina shrugged. "Well, maybe you deserve it, Brother."

"Just give him the beer," said Toguro. He sat on the floor, dissecting a carburetor for entertainment.

She rolled her eyes, and threw a can at Hiei, looking rather disappointed when he caught it.

Hiei went back upstairs, pressing the can against his bruise. "My sister doesn't like me that much."

"Duh," said the Yoko. "You didn't know that?"

"Well, I did-."

"Then quit stating the obvious." He finished wrapping the gauze around his stomach. "But can you blame her?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Never mind. Could you lace me up?"

"Huh?"

The Yoko held up a corset. "My back hurts."

"Where'd you get that?"

"I used to live here. I left some of my clothes when I moved. Are you going to help me or what?" He wrapped the corset around his middle and held it in place. Hiei hesitated. "Just pull on the strings as hard as you can."

"But... what if I pull too tightly?"

"Believe me, I'll let you know. Now please..."

He took the strings uncertainly and pulled. "Are you feeling better?"

"Some, thank you. I knew Daddy-O, even now, would have some form of a first-aid kit around here, he always does (Oh, you should have seen this place while it was running! The cuts, the burns, the dismembered appendages!), but water cleans better than peroxide. I'm sorry he threw that wrench at you. Are you hurt at all?"

"Just bruised," he murmured, pulling harder. The Yoko exhaled sharply. "You okay?"

He nodded. "Yes, keep- Ah! - going."

Hiei did, watching the corset while he did. It pressed tightly against the Yoko's waist and chest, and Hiei worried that the redhead may have difficulty breathing. On the other, superficial hand, he thought that this device that boxed him in like it did made him look rather enticing...

"That's enough!" the Yoko gasped. Hiei tied up the strings and backed away.

"Can you breathe?" he asked.

"Yeah," he said. He took a few deep breaths to prove it. "That feels a little better. Thank you." He smiled at Hiei. "I think I'll lie down now; I feel a little light-headed. Care to join me?" Hiei gave him an odd look. "What?"

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

The Yoko appeared to think on it for a moment. "I don't know, really. Do you disapprove of my being nice to you?"

"No."

"Well, then why question it?" He lay down on the mattress, and patted the spot next to him. "Besides, there's been few nights between the time I was seventeen and now that I've slept alone. I guess I'm just used to having another body next to me, be it that of someone I love, or hate, or have no feelings either way towards."

"You've loved?"

"And why not?" he asked defensively. "I've loved, can love. Have you trouble believing that?"

Hiei shrugged, unsure whether he did or not, and lay down beside him. "Which or those categories do I fall into? Love, or Hate, or Neither?"

He didn't receive an immediate reply. "Not hatred," he replied softly. "And not neither, either." He sat up and gazed down at Hiei thoughtfully. "I'll admit that I am rather fond of you, Short One."

The billionaire scowled at the nickname. "Hn, I'll bet you're fond of anybody willing to lace up your corset, Kurama."

"Oh, so now we're on a first name basis, Hiei?"

"Yeah, I guess we are." The Yoko- Kurama- laughed and drew up a musty-smelling blanket over the both of them.

Several minutes passed, and Hiei was drifting off, when he thought he heard Kurama murmur, so soft that he may have simply imagined it, "It's ironic, isn't it? After what was said, that I would end up liking girls' clothes?"