Chapter Nine: Answers
Author's Note: You all saw that one coming, didn't you… You got an early update! This chapter has been running around my head in various forms since the very beginning, so it was a quick write.
Attention Attention: Non-shonen-ai! (Not Slash) Ok? Ok. Don't get on my case about something that's not an issue in this story, and don't run away screaming. I know it can be read that way; I'm staying true to MY perspective. If you must scream, do scream quietly, but it's a waste of breath, because whatever you're screaming about, you're imagining it. (However, you're welcome to imagine it if you must; I won't stop you.) And definitely don't run away. If it clears anything up, there's no romance to speak of in this story.
Aaaaand…here's where we depart from Yu Yu Hakusho canon. I try to keep within the realms of probability. Keep in mind I'm a little clueless past Book 7 or so (Yah…sad huh?), and I'm kinda making some stuff up.
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek. It owns me. (does really bad zombie imitation while reciting 'These are the voyages…') Yu Yu Hakusho doesn't own me…yet. I own my plots, an Enterprise model, the Lhyarri, FOUR NEW STAR TREK BOOKS (as of Saturday!), and Lt. Ashley Faber.
ON WITH THE SHOW!
The chime of the door woke the kitsune from a sound sleep. Sitting up, he reached over to touch the companel beside the bed. "Yes? Who is it?" he asked, managing to keep from sounding too sleepy.
Deanna Troi's voice came into the darkness. "Kurama? I'm sorry; you were asleep, weren't you."
"It's all right," he soothed her automatically, although he had been asleep quite comfortably. "What is it?"
"Nothing that can't wait until morning," she backpedaled. "My apologi-"
"No, come in. I'll be out in a moment," he added as his sensitive ears picked up the sound of the automatic doors swishing open. Tapping the panel to end the conversation, he shoved the light sheet off himself and swung his bare feet onto the carpet.
"Shh, go back to sleep," he said softly, turning slightly to rest one hand on the shoulder of his half-awake companion. "I'll be back soon."
"Hai," the fire demon murmured, eyes already closing. (Hai- yes, sure, okay: every other variation on the face of the planet.)
Kurama smiled fondly as he rose and pulled on a simple robe over his white outfit. Tugging his long red hair from where it had gotten pinned beneath the collar, he tied the belt into a simple knot and moved silently toward the door, which slid open at his approach.
Deanna Troi was standing in the center of the room, looking out the wide windows with a slightly ashamed expression. She turned as he entered the larger room, and, as such, got a perhaps more comprehensive image of the slight slice of bedroom that was visible as the door closed.
As the door swished to behind him, he raised one hand to halt the inevitable train of thought. "Don't even think it, counselor; we've heard it all before and it's not what you're thinking," Kurama said mildly, taking no offense at the instantaneous assumption. Almost everyone who even suspected the truth about the exclusively platonic love that had developed between the fox-demon and the antisocial koorime made an issue of it; he hoped that she would be one of the few who didn't. Opponents had become allies had become partners in crime, and once they were bullied into 'babysitting' the Spirit Detectives around, their friendship had naturally flourished. Even once you got to know them, they were the antithesis of each other, but had endured three hundred years together; a symbiotic partnership that neither would want to break.
Before she could even begin to formulate a response, he waved the raised hand, dismissing it all. "Forget it. Can I offer you something? Sit down, please."
"Oh, no thank you," she said, sitting down in a comfortable chair facing the windows as he took the few steps towards the replicator mounted in one wall.
"Nonsense," he said amiably, handing her a chocolate milkshake. "You've just come off shift."
She broke into an involuntary smile as he sat down opposite her with his own glass of what looked to be orange juice. Sitting cross-legged on the couch against the back wall, he showed no signs of having just been abruptly woken, if one disregarded the white robe. "How did you know?" she asked, taking a sip and all but purring in delight. It was perfect.
"I have a friend who loves chocolate. Believe me, I can tell a chocoholic when I see one," he said, smiling over the rim of the orange juice.
"Well, thank you. It's a kind way to repay waking you." Once more he dismissed her words.
"Let's pretend you've said that. Why have you come here instead of being at home in bed?"
"Curiosity," she said, matching his bluntness, with a shrug that did not spill her milkshake.
"A good reason. Anything in particular, or just general inquisitiveness?"
"No…yes."
He waited patiently for her to clarify that. Actually, she admitted to herself privately, this had been a spur-of-the-moment decision. After a few seconds thought, in which she organized her questions into some semblance of order, she said, "Curiosity about you—both of you. You told us much about Fenell and the universe, but nothing about yourselves. My business is to understand people. For most, my empathy gives me a kind of baseline, but you're both so heavily shielded that I can't receive anything besides the shallow from either of you. I'm at a loss, so to speak."
"That's understandable; I share that. I prefer to know as much as I can. Ask, Deanna," he said whimsically, slipping her given name in so smoothly that she barely even noticed. "What would you like to know? I'm normally quite cautious, and Hiei's even worse, but I'll tell you what I can."
On a whim, she asked suddenly, "Why 'Sean'?"
"Oh. It's a name I can remember to answer to. My human mother named me Shuuichi, and Sean is close enough while not being overly noticeable." He smiled sadly.
"I'm sorry, I don't understand you. You speak of a human mother; I was under the impression that—" She fumbled for words.
Kurama sighed and set his half-empty glass down on the table between them.
"I suppose that's as good a place to start as any. Three hundred years ago, at the end of the twentieth century in the Human world—I'm afraid Makai dates wouldn't mean much to you—I was someone almost completely different: a master thief of the Demon world. It was…fun, I suppose. Lonely, but fun. That was who I was; the name Youko Kurama still carries weight. Unfortunately I ran afoul of a bounty hunter who was much better than he should have been. My physical body was destroyed; I fled in spirit form to the human world and possessed the body of a soulless fetus. Months later I was born in the body that you see now." One hand flickered upward to touch his chest at the base of his throat. "I stopped my body from changing further once I reached this point; there was no further deception to maintain."
"Did your mother ever know?" Troi asked curiously.
"I don't believe so. Shiori knew I was different, of course, but not why or how. She may have suspected more than I ever knew, but we managed."
There was no further deception to maintain… "What happened to her?"
He closed his green eyes, head lowering. "She died. An accident; there was nothing I could do." Despite his obvious distress, neither his voice nor expression changed, and it registered as little more than a slight flicker on her empathic senses.
"I'm sorry," Deanna said, regretting having brought it up.
"It's all right," he repeated patiently. "Please don't apologize any more; I don't take offense very easily."
"Why's that?" she queried against her better judgment.
His growing smile was beginning to look more like a satisfied smirk. "Because, Deanna, a plant mage in a temper can do a lot of damage. I could indulge in temper tantrums in the Demon world, but it would lead to awkward questions as a human."
The half-Betazoid smiled, a mental image, of the redhead trying (and succeeding) to look innocent as baffled policemen gaped at a building torn down by a giant tree, popping into her mind.
"Yes. I can see how that would be difficult. So no one ever found out? Surely…"
"Oh, most people never knew. There were a few people, not to mention assorted demons that were run very quickly out of town once they crossed my path. Mostly, though, the only people who knew what we were—what?"
She quickly wiped the smile from her face. "Nothing."
"I don't believe you."
"It's simply that I was wondering if you knew how often you speak of yourself in the plural."
His brow furrowed. "You know, I never considered it. Seeing as Hiei's not even awake—or, at least, I don't think he is—it doesn't make much sense, does it? We're so used to…there I go again." The puzzled frown turned into a smile. "Laugh away."
He seemed serious, so she smiled broadly and was relieved when he joined her in it.
"So who were these humans who knew about you?"
The redhead mimed counting on his fingers, getting a quick chuckle from her through a sip of milkshake. "The two I ran with the most were two teenage boys, both in the employ of Spirit World. Yusuke, and Kuwabara. Actually, Kuwabara's first name was Kazuma, but no one except his sister and Yukina ever referred to him as that. Hiei would tell you that they were both idiots, and he wouldn't be that far wrong, even though he calls everyone that. But they were good friends in a pinch, and not someone you'd want to be fighting against."
"The Spirit World hired them?" Maybe she'd misunderstood.
Apparently not. "They found out a lot; Koenma didn't have much of a choice. Koenma's the prince of Reikai I mentioned in passing earlier, and if I say too much about him, you won't believe anything else I say. Yusuke died prematurely—they brought him back after he wandered around for weeks with the Grim Reaper, whom I also would rather not explain too much about. They bullied him into accepting a post as what they called 'Spirit Detective' and simply talked too much around Kuwabara, who really didn't know what he was getting into when he volunteered. We… sort of got drafted." Conscripted would be closer…
As he talked about his friends, he seemed a lot more at ease, so she asked suddenly, "Why are you so on guard around the crew? No one will bite you." She'd meant it to be a joke, but realized a moment after it came out that, in the life he lived, people probably did bite.
"Are you afraid of us, Counselor?"
She jumped in her chair, startled by the icy voice from behind her, and only the simple fact that she'd drunk most of it saved her from spilling the milkshake all over herself. Placing one hand over her racing heart, she turned slightly to see Hiei standing in the open doorway to the bedroom. He'd shed his all-encompassing black cloak, and wore a black, sleeveless shirt, and equally dark pants. Like his counterpart, he was barefoot, which explained his completely silent entrance.
"No," she answered his question, scrambling to remember what it was. "However, I might just be if you do that again."
He nodded shortly. "You don't fear us, but you're still on your guard; your mental barriers are still raised."
"Of course. It doesn't stem from fear of you, however. The unrestrained emotion of many of the crew is painful to an unguarded telepath." You know that, she thought at him.
If he heard, he gave no sign of it. "Yes. It's a way of life. Life's a lot rougher among demons; trust usually means death. I smell chocolate."
The Betazoid was startled by the abrupt change of topic before realizing that he'd finished talking to her, and was instead addressing the fox-demon, who was unsuccessfully trying to hide a smile behind one hand.
"Of course you do. Did you only just notice now?"
"I was asleep and you know it. You didn't come back, so I began to wonder what sort of conversation was so fascinating."
"We were discussing Yusuke and Kuwabara."
"Yes, I know."
Kurama shifted his attention back to a recovered Troi. "Is there anything else?" he asked as the smaller demon joined him.
"Yes…you didn't say much about just what demons are. I'm a little curious about that too."
"Demons, Counselor," Hiei informed her from his seat on the back of the couch, "are quicker, stronger, and more ruthless than the average human. Our senses are immeasurably better than most of the races currently known. The higher-ranking ones are far cleverer. Many control elements of nature and use them as deadly weapons, mostly to bully those weaker, serve those stronger, and continually strive against those on the same level as themselves."
"However, despite all this, there are still some humans—forgive us, Counselor, but the majority of demonic interaction has been with humans; the term has stuck—who can face us on an equal footing. And for most demons, life is an endless war just to survive; many lack the ability to experience the gentler emotions; tranquility, joy, love…"
She looked at the both of them, seated together, and couldn't help but think that regardless of their harsh, and no doubt true, words, there were exceptions, and two of them were right here.
A smile flickered across Kurama's face briefly. "Of course, there are still some demons in Ningenkai…and unless you can sense them, they pass for mortal very well. I would not be surprised to discover at least one in Starfleet."
She looked at him suspiciously. "Now you're teasing me."
The smile widened, and he shook his head. "Nothing of the sort. I wouldn't do that."
"Now he's lying through his teeth, Counselor, he teases people all the time."
Kurama merely shrugged, still smiling slightly.
"Hmm. If you say so. But you also said that demons don't like space."
"There are always exceptions," the redhead defended.
"Like you. Do you really think you can pull this off?"
Kurama extended one closed hand, and opened it to reveal her favorite hairclip, which she had been wearing. The Betazoid gasped and raised one hand to check her hair. The clip was gone. "How did you—" she spluttered, before remembering that he had openly admitted to being a thief. "Give me that!"
"Oh, I think we've got a pretty good chance," he almost purred, allowing her to retrieve her hairclip. "You never know what will appear."
Author's Note: All my information on demons comes from either Yu Yu Hakusho, the wonderful series Inu-Yasha, or a demented corner of my brain. I know nothing about Japanese mythology. All mistakes are, I mean, that is: creative license is mine.
Last chapter was meant to be about what is going on; this was on just who these two are anyway. I considered putting them in one chapter a long time ago but divided them into two because they are disparate. Also, I doubt anyone really wants to sit through more than six thousand words in one go about something they already know half of. YYH fans, if you just skimmed this because you know it all, fine. Be that way.
Also, I realize that a lot of Kurama's explanations come all but word for word from the books—that is because they are good explanations, especially since I don't know what I'm talking about. I can only hope that he does. That may of course explain why I could write this in one midnight sitting right after posting 'Questions' and minor touch-ups.
CHAT: (a newly instigated chat-back-to-the-reviewers section)
KHnews hound: As to the mini-conversation, it was nothing more than the fact that Riker tends to assign people quarters in most of the books. One may assume it was also an apology for instigating the plan that finally caught Hiei, but personally I think that should probably come from Ashley Faber. I also personally think that that's unlikely. I am glad you are enjoying this. So am I.
grayangle: Well, I'm glad you're flattered, you deserve it…I NEVER THOUGHT OF THAT! Ha! That's brilliant! She just came out that way, but I can probably work it in towards the end if I feel like it then. Weaker demons would not stay hidden for long; it's only the cleverest that can maintain a cover. I don't think even they can erase everyone's memory, and Data's, and the computer's, and go through the ship with a fine-tooth comb (although I bet Kurama has one in his pocket). Remember those aliens tried that in 'Clues' (season 4, #88 according to my Star Trek Encyclopedia) and they left so many traces behind? It didn't turn out at all well for them, and that was a whole race of telepaths… I'm kind of treading on thin ice with regard to their powers anyway, and walking on thin ice with a fire demon in tow generally isn't a very good idea.
All the silent people out there: I can hear you breathing, thanks to my wonderful 'Stats' page. Hi! I'm really glad you're reading this; it's a fun story to write. I was afraid everyone would get bored through all the talking, I am happy to be wrong. To everyone in former chapters that said that this was fitting together better than they thought it would, well, I am amazed as you are. By the way, I'm really not as silly as I sound sometimes…
keepondreaming16: (in response to a prior comment) I remembered what Homecoming is, are you proud of me? It's an excuse (of questionable validity) to throw a weeklong party! Admit it, I'm right!
P.S. If I can think of a better title for this section, I will change it. Suggestions?