By Dan'yu
Chapter Two: KuramaDeath.
The scent, the stifling, sinister stink of it, was unmistakable; it had been since they had first entered these caverns, filling the whole place with the wrenching aroma of pain and misery, spelling out their doom from the moment they set foot into Sensui's clutches. He had wanted so desperately to attribute that stench to the maniac's sinister plans, plans that could bring about the end of the entire human race.
As he watched Yusuke Urameshi's lifeless body hit the ground, motionless from his opponent's last attack, he knew suddenly why this place smelled so strongly of death.
The spirits had predicted the fate of their detective and hero.
His mind wandered back, to the memories of their first real meeting, when he had been consumed with the desire to save his mother, when he had faced the man intent on bringing him to justice for his crimes and instead he had begged for the chance to use the Mirror of Forlorn Hope, all in hopes of curing the illness that was quickly stealing away the life of his dear mother.
But Urameshi had shocked him, when he threw himself at Kurama's side at the last moment, demanding from the spirit of the mirror that he should take Kurama's place in the sacrifice required to save Shiori Minamoto's life.
The Mirror had seen the selflessness of his actions, and rewarded them both with their lives intact, Shiori's health restored. In return, Kurama aided the Spirit Detective in his battle with Hiei, even at the cost of betraying his partnership with Hiei.
The great Youko had been devious, sly, arrogant, and far too proud for his own good, a thief, but in his own way, he had been honorable. He could not led any favor done for him go unpaid, and the same sense of duty had developed in his human form, Shuichi.
Memories fought at the edge of his consciousness, fighting for dominance, for remembrance, his time as Youko, his time as Shuichi, and his years of friendship with Yusuke.
For countless centuries, as Youko, he had been a cold, ruthless, uncaring proud creature who ravaged, pillaged, and stole, perfecting his thieving skills for the sake of his own thrill and pride. When the kitsune youkai made a nearly fateful miscalculation, he had manipulated his own fate, inhabiting the dying unborn child of a ningen woman in order to save his own life. For the first ten years or so, he was the pride and joy of Shiori Minamoto and her husband, and yet he treated them with indifferent disgust, looking down at them as inferior beings, nothing more than a means to his end.
He had seen Shiori's grief as her husband passed away, and he had begun to feel his first pangs of human emotion, the slightest stirrings of sympathy for the woman's pain. Over the years, her constant devotion and sacrifices for him had changed everything about him. His cause for being, his choice to remain human, all of it originated in a slight, simple ningen woman stronger than he could ever be, merely because she loved him so completely as her son.
Kurama had seen that same selflessness displayed by Yusuke, and he had been intrigued. The other young man was aware of his past as a youkai, as a thief, he had told him everything about his tangled history with Shiori, and Yusuke had accepted him still, with seamless ease he had earned the respect and friendship of this brazen young human where so many others would have turned away.
Yusuke Urameshi would always have his gratitude and his loyalty. He watched Kuwabarra beside the prostate form of his best friend, and Kurama closed his eyes against the threat of tears, remembering the gallant courage of one extraordinary human. His teammate, his friend, a hero.
There was a reason why this place permeated the scent of death. This time, it foretold the fate of Yusuke's killer. This hero would be avenged.
