Warnings: None
Lucky Child
Chapter 79:
"Training Montage"
Kurama looped his arm tight around my shoulders as we all but power-walked through the bustling streets of Sarayashiki's glittering downtown. If it hadn't been for the blue-haired woman walking backward ahead of us so she could frantically prattle out the story of Toguro (a story she didn't know I was already aware of), maybe someone would've mistaken Kurama and I for a couple walking close together to keep warm on a chilly winter day.
The dire expressions on our all faces probably shattered that pretty picture like a brick through rose-colored glass, though.
We reached the stoop of my home quicker than expected. The streets passed in a blur of colors and lights, scenery blending together on the whirring blades of my anxiety. Stray thoughts like "Toguro is here?" and Already? So soon?" had filled my head too full to notice the passing of time or streets. Kurama stopped a few feet from the door, pulling Botan and I close to the front windows of the restaurant so he could address us with low urgency. A few patrons walked past us and entered the ramen shop; some looked at us with raised brows, but no one said anything. We were just teens on the sidewalk, after all, gathered to socialize on New Year's Day. Nothing to write home about.
"Don't go anywhere," Kurama said to me. He'd released my shoulders, but his hand gripped my upper arm as if to keep me from flying away. "Stay inside, in your room. Keep away from the windows. Do you understand?"
It was all I could do to nod.
"Good." His eyes cut to the reaper huddled next to us. "Botan, with me. We need to check on Atsuko."
"R-right!" she said, and without another word or warning or well-wish, Kurama turned on his heel and walked quickly away into the descending twilight.
I stood on the sidewalk, motionless, until they disappeared around the corner at the end of the street. My heart beat like a battering ram against my ribs, but it started to slow as a feeling of surprise replaced it with bubbles in my chest. For Kurama to willingly leave me alone the night after my abduction, so soon after everyone panicked when I vanished—wow. That must mean he took the threat of Toguro quite seriously indeed, leaving me alone like this.
But thinking about that only brought back the anxiety-ram, so I shook myself from my stupor and headed inside.
Mom met me almost the minute I walked through the front doors and shrugged out of my coat. She carried a potted plant under her arm, leaves broad and shiny and a shade of deep, rich green. A purple flower with slender petals crowned the stalk jutting from where the leaves converged. She juggled it to her other side and kissed me on the cheek; as she did so, scent wafted from the plant in a wave of… something. Sugared mint mellowed out by an earthy smell I couldn't quite place. It was a pleasant scent, if not a little cloying.
"There you are!" she said with an enormous smile. "How's your foot feeling? They told me you stepped on something sharp. And Happy New Year, Keiko."
"Happy New Year to you too. It's fine. I'm all bandaged up." I pointed at the plant. "What's that?"
She transferred the pot to both hands and beamed. "Isn't it lovely? Shuichi-kun left it for us as a gift, as thanks for the party last night. He said it's from South America and if placed by the front door will bring us good luck. Isn't it lovely?"
My brow shot up. "Shuichi left it."
"Mmm-hmm. Though where he found a flower like this at this time of year, I haven't the faintest idea."
Mom didn't have any idea, but I sure had a few. As she placed the plant on the table by the front door, next to the lucky cat statue and a stack of menus, I considered that maybe Kurama hadn't left me alone, after all. Maybe that flower, like so many of Kurama's plants, possessed a function beyond looking and smelling lovely. I shot it an expression of "I know what you're up to and you're not sneaky" just in case Kurama could see me through its flower before going upstairs and collapsing onto my bed. The dark lit up with stars when I pressed the heels of my hands into my eye sockets and sighed. Although I still felt tired from the night before, being alone for the first time since my abduction had my mind racing in circles. Where were the others? Was Yusuke OK, talking to Toguro alone? Had Kuwabara followed or was he watching from afar, as he'd done in the anime? And where the heck was—?
I didn't have time to finish asking that last question; it was answered almost immediately. The sound of my window rattling open sent anxiety scattering, panic taking its place inside my chest—but as a cold wind ripped through the room and I sat up with a frightened gasp, a black-clad leg thrust its way onto my desk. Hiei crawled through the open window without once looking at me, shutting it behind him before he hopped off the desk and stood in the middle of my bedroom.
"Well? What's wrong?" He finally looked at me when I didn't reply and instead gaped at him in confusion and shock. His eyes flashed. "You're worried. I could feel it down the block. But why?"
"You could feel—?" My eyes narrowed. "Were you spying on me?"
Hiei turned away with a "tch," abrasive sound like sandpaper between teeth. "You really think I wouldn't keep an eye on you out after what happened last night?"
"Pun intended?"
He glared over his shoulder. "Quit making jokes."
"Fine, fine," I said, holding my hands up in surrender. "Oh, just so you know, last night I was—"
"I listened in on your conversation with Ayame," he cut in. "I know what happened and you're a fool if you think for one second I wouldn't—" He stopped and bared his teeth before taking one quick step toward the window. "Never mind. Forget it. I'm—"
"Hey. Wait." I scrambled off the bed and hooked a finger into his sleeve; he looked down at it and then up at me with a scowl, but the scowl faded a smidge when I said, "Thank you. I feel safer knowing you're looking out for me." A wry smile. "And frankly, I wondered why Kurama would leave me alone so soon afterward, and with what just happened downtown…"
Hiei's scowl returned in full force. "What happened downtown?"
"Toguro's back."
He bristled at once, hair standing even more on end than usual. "The thug who kept my sister—?"
"Yeah," I said, weight gathering leaden in my chest. "That guy."
But Hiei was not so easily convinced, or perhaps he was experiencing some shock of his own. "The Detective killed him," he said, as if in protest.
I nodded. "Yeah, well, apparently death didn't stick. It doesn't stick for so many in our circle, it seems." I sighed. "Anyway. He appeared and got to Yusuke after we finished telling Ayame about last night."
"But why is he here?" Hiei asked. Wheels turned behind his livid gaze. "For revenge?"
"Sort of. And that's why I was worried." My smile tasted as bitter as a lemon. "I was worried for Yusuke."
Hiei opened his mouth to reply.
Someone else replied first.
"Smart girl," they said. "You should be worried."
Hiei's eyes widened the barest fraction of an inch before he vanished, disappearing and reappearing with his back to me, both hands raised high and wreathed in bright, hot flame. It billowed orange and gold and brilliant red, singeing my eyebrows and drying out my eyes and skin with a wave of scorching heat. I staggered back and fell onto my bed with a cry, looking at Hiei through my fingers to shield myself from the fire. The shadows in my bedroom lengthened and deepened to darkest black in the light of that hot flame—and then one of the shadows in the corner rippled, drawing my eye to it like a magnet. This shadow warped and buckled and moved upward over my wall, and for a second my chest tightened because oh no, oh no, the Uraotoko was back and coming for me again—
"Meigo," Hiei said. "Calm down."
In stark contrast to the fire coating his hands, Hiei's voice was as cold as the icy wind outside, and at the sound of his calm words the nauseating rush of terror in my blood went quiet. I climbed back onto my feet, edging as near to Hiei as I dared while the shadow in the corner grew darker and darker still. Eventually it appeared to step forward, pushing off of the wall and gaining solid form. The shadow congealed into three distinct shapes—the shapes of three robed figures of varying heights, faces concealed beneath the hoods of their strange outfits. One was tall, head nearly brushing the ceiling; another was quite short, even smaller than Hiei; the last was about Yusuke's height. This one stepped away from the others with the brush of very solid feet against carpet. Not a living shadow, after all.
"Hello, Hiei," the figure said. "We've been looking for you."
Hiei brandished the fire in his hands with a low growl as the hooded figure approached, but seeing the fire, it stopped cold. The figure paused, hooded head tilting to one side as if studying the dancing flames. Hiei took one menacing step forward, but the figure did not retreat. "Stay back, or I'll—"
The figure held up a hand—a hand with skin tinted pale green, fingers tipped with hooked claws and possessing perhaps one too many joints to be human. "You can relax, demon traitor," they (he, she, it?) said in a light, nasal voice, one to which I could not affix a gender. "I'm not here to fight. Quite the contrary—I'm here to offer you a chance to fight." The hand disappeared as the figure folded its arms to perform a formal bow. "You are cordially invited to attend this year's Dark Tournament."
"Sorry," Hiei spat. "Not interested."
The figure straightened up with a snap. "Oh, my," they said with saccharine sympathy I didn't buy for even a second. "It seems you're rather uninformed."
"I know what the Dark Tournament is, fool," said Hiei. "It's a chance for humans to revel in demon blood sport and I want no part in it."
"Oh ho." Now the demon (because I'm sure that thing was a demon under their cloak) just sounded pleasantly surprise. "So you still hold some ill will toward humans, even though you shelter one behind you?" They shook their head. "Well. It's no matter. Your lingering resentment for the human race won't save you from this invitation." Another curious head tilt. "Did I mention it's compulsory?"
"You have a greater chance of winning a beauty contest, you ugly miscreant, than you do making me do anything," Hiei said in a voice dripping with venom.
The thing's head tilted even further. "Is that so?"
"No one makes me do anything."
"I see," the demon said with a long sigh. "Very well. I'm certain your sister treasures the steel of your spine."
The demon's silken words bore instantaneous effect. Hiei stiffened, the fire on his hands flickering as if in time with a frantic heart. I eased closer to him even though the heat made my hair fizzle, but I did not dare reach out to touch his shoulder—not even when the demon in the hooded cloak gave a laugh that made me shiver despite the heat.
"That's right," the demon simpered. "We know all about her. And if you refuse to comply… Well. You can catch my drift, I think."
I heard Hiei's teeth grind before he spat, "You bastard."
"Tut tut, Hiei," said the demon. "Save that aggression for the ring. You and the other demon traitor, Kurama, have been named guests of and by the Tournament Committee—along with those upstart humans Urameshi Yusuke and Kuwabara Kazuma, of course." That hand the color of sickly seafoam raised again, this time holding a small card between two fingers. "The details are printed on this invitation for your convenience."
"I assume you're threatening the other into participation, as well," Hiei said.
"We have our methods." With a flick of their wrist, the figure tossed the card onto the floor, and then it raised one admonishing finger in the air. "Don't try to think about running, traitor. Our reach is much longer than you might think." They stepped backward, rejoining the ranks of the two other cloaked creatures in the shadowy corner. "Until the Tournament, Hiei. We look forward to seeing you."
Hiei did not share their sentiments, apparently, and spat, "Fuck you."
"No, thank you," the demon said—but before Hiei could react to the polite joke at his expense, the featureless hole beneath the hood swung slightly to the side.
Toward me.
Even though I couldn't see the face of the creature that lay beneath the hood, I knew exactly upon whom their eyes had affixed. I knew even before their hand raised and pointed one many-jointed finger in my direction, and they said, "Oh. And you."
Hiei reacted with lightning speed, blurring out of sight and reappearing only inches from the robed demons. "Don't fucking touch her," he growled in a voice that sent an even greater chill through me. "Touch her and I'll—"
"I won't touch her," the demon said, as if Hiei were stupid for suggesting they might. "In fact, I was warned against it—provided she is indeed one Yukimura Keiko, of course."
My heart lurched. "She is." I kicked myself. "I mean, I am."
Hiei rounded on me with a snarl. "Meigo!"
"It's OK, Hiei." I took a deep breath to steady myself, and even though Hiei glared at me, I asked, "How do you know who I am?"
"A few ways." The demon held up two fingers. "Reason the first: You're one of the ones we hold over a barrel in the event your friends refuse to participate. Considering how this one guards you, I think their participation can been guaranteed." He put down one of the fingers and waved the other lazily through the air. "Reason the second: You have a friend on the Tournament Committee, you lucky child."
To say I froze solid is an understatement. Hiei stilled, too, but I'm the one who truly imitated a glacier just then. Only because I'd frozen with my mouth just slightly parted was I able to whisper the phrase, "I have a what?"
At my words, Hiei thawed. "You lie," he said with more heat than even the flames in his hands. "Keiko knows no one in the human underworld."
"Maybe." The demon shrugged. "But someone in the underworld certainly knows her. And he told me to tell her hello."
"Who?" Hiei took another step forward, so close I had to think he could see the demon's shadowed face. "Who told you to do that, damn you?"
Was it just met, or did I catch a faint glimpse of light glinting off rows of smiling teeth beneath the gloom of that concealing hood? Either way, the demon said, "I'm afraid I can't say."
But that wasn't good enough for Hiei. One hand lifted high, fire in it flickering—and at the threat of my room becoming a charred warzone, the ice around me melted. "It's OK, Hiei," I somehow found the will to blurt. When he looked at me with one red eye, iris reflecting a raging inferno in my dark room, I said, "I think I know exactly who he's talking about." To the demon I added, "Pink hair, blue eyes? Smiles to the point of looking like a gleeful serial killer?"
But the demon wasn't at all thrown by my joke. He, she, it, they just shrugged and said, "I'm afraid I can't say." Their body rippled, feet melding with the shadowy floor as they and their retinue faded into the landscape of the wall again. "Au revoir…" they said, voice distant and fading fast—and then the shadows returned to normal, and the demons disappeared.
Hiei and I waited a beat.
The fire in his hands went out.
I walked on legs that shook to my desk. I flicked on a light. Braced my hands on my desk. Sneezed as the scents of fire and smoke tickled my nose. Although the demons hadn't confirmed the name of the person who'd said to tell me hello, after what Yusuke had seen on the video feed at Tarukane's mansion, could there be any doubt about who—?
"That boy from your memory."
I snapped upright with an eloquent, "Huh?"
"Pink hair, blue eyes, a smile that never dims. That's the boy I saw in your memories the night we met," Hiei said. Although he'd let his summoned fire fade, he was all menace when he took a step in my direction, eyes lit from within like coals. "Meigo. Am I wrong?"
I passed my hand through my hair. Wondered if I should lie. Wondered if I should even bother hiding the truth from him.
Decided it didn't matter, and spoke the truth anyway.
"No," I said. "You're not wrong. That's the guy."
Hiei took my statement with a nod. He didn't demand I elaborate, and even if he tried to, I have no idea what I would have said—because even though I now possessed zero doubts as to whom Yusuke had seen on that video, I still had no idea what it all meant.
At that realization, a quiet dread filled my stomach, and it did not fade even after a good night's sleep.
Leaves crunched under the soles of my boots as I muttered, "These woods are lovely, dark and deep—but I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep."
The rest of Robert Frost's poem, which I began with its proper opening line as a crow cawed in the trees above my head, rattled off my tongue like foliage falling from a barren branch. The words were born in puffs of vapor, chill January air turning stanzas to steam with every uttered syllable. I shivered and wrapped my arms around myself. Although I wasn't traveling with the goal of sleep, I did have promises to keep, and about a mile before I could make good on them.
The backpack on my shoulder tapped heavily against my spine as I navigated the tangle of roots and fallen boughs decorating the path through the woods. Winter had stripped the leaves from the branches above; bits of grey-blue sky showed behind the thick latticework of twigs, my path dim but not quite dark. It was only midday, after all, or very near it. Every shift of the backpack felt like the beat of a clock's swinging pendulum, counting down seconds one by one.
I wasn't sure I liked that feeling—that feeling of a clock ticking against my back. It reminded me that I wasn't the only one who'd made promises recently, and that mine were the least dire promises of all.
They crow, invisible amidst the tangle of limbs overhead, cawed once more.
"Oh, shut up," I muttered, and I quickened my pace.
It had been only a week since Yusuke learned of Toguro's resurrection—or rather, his original deception and playacting of death, but the semantics hardly mattered. However you want to parse it, the clock had begun its inexorable ticking the moment Toguro tracked Yusuke down and invited him to the Dark Tournament. Although "invited" is also another word you could argue the semantics of, but that hardly mattered, either. Time marched us toward our fate any way you care to slice it. I just felt lucky the boys had been given nearly three months to train for the tournament instead of the mere two weeks they'd been allotted in the anime. The Dark Tournament, whether by fate or by design, coincided with our spring break at the end of March. At least Yusuke wouldn't have to miss more school than he already was inevitably going to…
The crow cawed again. I scowled and glared up at where I thought the crow might be hiding, a telltale flash of oily black flitting between the trees, but my gaze jerked back down again as from up ahead there came a noise—a distant crash, like twigs breaking under a heavy weight.
On reflex I broke into a trot, thumping backpack counting seconds even faster now.
Soon I came upon a clearing, path ending in a large section of empty space amidst the greater press of looming forest. Kurama had something to do with the clearing's presence and clean borders, no doubt, and I suspected he'd been the one responsible for the uncommonly neat path through the woods, too. No game-trails were that easy to follow, and the forest was too remote (and unmarked) for a proper hiking path. I stood where path met clearing and didn't move, scanning the clearing for movement—but then to my right I heard another round of creaking, breaking limbs. I stepped to the side just as a shower of twigs and bark rained down from above, and then with a mighty thud Kuwabara came plummeting to the ground. He landed in a heap before rolling onto his back, barrel chest heaving with labored breaths. Despite the day's cold, he wore only a white tanktop and jeans, bare arms showcasing a network of scratches and scrapes, some of which oozed fresh blood. Eyes tightly shut, he mopped his face with a hand and then let it fall, lying spread-eagle on the ground as he tried to catch his breath.
"Wow," I remarked. "I didn't realize flying was one of your training goals."
Kuwabara's eyes popped open. He stared at me, blinked, then sat up with an enormous grin and a nervous chortle. "Oh, hi, Keiko! Is it lunchtime already?" he said as he rubbed the back of his broad neck.
"Near about." I pointed at the conspicuous hole in the twig-canopy. "But you oughtta look alive there, partner."
"Huh?" He glanced up, then scowled. "Oh. Right."
Above, perched on a thick limb, crouched Hiei. He peered down at us like an overgrown gargoyle who'd discovered Hot Topic, red eyes nearly glowing in his tanned face. He dropped from the trees and landed a few feet away, hands jammed deep in the pockets of his black cloak.
"Get up, oaf," Hiei said.
Kuwabara made a sound of growling frustration and scrambled to his feet. "I told you to stop calling me that, short-stack!" He extended a hand and curled his fingers; between them bloomed a pinprick of yellow light that burst outward from his fist like a lightsaber summoned by a cranky Jedi. Slicing the Spirit Sword through the air, Kuwabara shot Hiei a triumphant grin and said, "How do you like this?"
Hiei just sneered. Kuwabara turned a distinct shade of puce and leapt at him with a bellow, but Hiei blurred from sight and cut around behind him, aiming a swift kick to the back of Kuwabara's knees. Kuwabara yelped and stumbled, sword flickering in his grip, but it didn't disappear as he regained his footing and rounded on Hiei for another strike.
I stayed back as they dodged and leapt and attacked their way into the clearing proper, but I watched the fight as intently as I could from a distance. I'd seen Kuwabara's sword in passing once before this new round of training began, but in the past week I'd been able to see it up close for the first time. Its yellow-hued light and the sparks of power leaping from it were impressive, like he wielded a blade forged of lighting—but when I stared at it directly, I could see trees and rocks behind it, like it wasn't a solid object but instead some sort of insubstantial hologram. I wondered if what I saw was indicative of reality, however, and not a reflection of his strength. I wasn't psychic, and I suspected that someone with psychic powers might be able to perceive more about the weapon that my ungifted eyes could not. Maybe I should ask someone. All the boys were here, after all, and—well. All the boys but Yusuke were here.
At the thought of him, and specifically his absence, an ache opened in my chest like the gap left in the wake of a missing tooth.
My moment of melancholy didn't last, and of that I was glad. A heel crunched over a fallen twig at my back, Kurama perhaps intentionally signaling his approach. "Hello, Kei," he said with his usual smooth tones. "It's good to see you."
"Hi, Kurama," I said. Kuwabara shouted an insult at Hiei behind me; my lips twitched. "How's it going?"
"Well enough, I suppose." Green eyes narrowed. "But you needn't worry about our training, if that's what's on your mind."
I gave him the stare of a dead fish. "Asking me not to worry is an exercise in extreme futility and you know it."
"Perhaps," he said. He then changed the subject, not bothering with subtlety. "Thank you for bringing us lunch. Kuwabara will need a break before he begins his afternoon training with me."
"Ominous," I said. I slung my backpack off my shoulders and pulled the rolled-up picnic blanket from the straps keeping it in place atop the bag. "Well. Try not to kill him, I guess."
"I make no promises."
"Ha ha, very funny." Once I laid out the quilt, I unzipped the bag and drew out a thermos. "Soup?"
"Please."
He sat next to me on the blanket, long legs stretched before him across the blue and green-patterned cloth. We drank miso soup from cups and watched Hiei and Kuwabara spar—or rather, we watched Kuwabara chase Hiei around in circles and try to defend when Hiei lobbed a counterattack. Hiei had a clear edge in the fight, mainly because Kuwabara couldn't actually hit him, but were my eyes deceiving me or did Kuwabara seem to be a bit faster, a touch more agile since the start of their newest round of training?
"Do you think he'll be ready in time?" I murmured, hands tight around my cup of soup.
"We'll make every effort," Kurama said.
"Good. Keep me posted." My hands tightened a little more, plastic creaking under tense fingers. "It's just. Y'know. I worry. Especially since the stakes are so…"
"I know," came Kurama's soft reply.
We didn't need to say anything more on the subject. Not right then, anyway.
Kurama and I both knew what lay at the end of these three months, and what dangers awaited us at the end of that long road.
We watched the fight in silence until Hiei finally saw fit to grant Kuwabara a break. He lay on the ground recovering while I brought out the bentos (Hiei heated them with a blast of his power, bless the little rascal) and served our food. The scent of it revived Kuwabara in short order; he shoveled it down his throat in way fewer bites than seemed healthy, then launched into a conversation with Kurama about… something.
I confess my mind wandered to thoughts and questions and concerns about the upcoming tournament, and between wondering how canon might change and what Hiruko was up to, sending me a message the way he had, I quite lost track of the conversation. Not that Kuwabara let that oversight last.
"Keiko?" A hand waved in front of my face. "Hey, earth to Keiko!"
"Huh?" I shook my head, wincing at the look of amusement of Kuwabara's face. "Oh, sorry. What were you saying?"
Kuwabara laughed and launched back into the story he'd been telling, his points artfully embellished with waves of enthusiastic chopstick. That time I actually listened, catching the last bits of his tale before he reclined on the quilt with a sigh, dry winter grass crunching beneath his weight. Internally I resolved to stay in the moment from there on out. Lord knew I wouldn't be seeing much of Kuwabara once school started at the end of winter break in a few days..
"So." I set my bento aside and rearranged my legs beneath me. "How's the training going?"
"Oh, fine, fine," Kuwabara said with a dismissive shrug.
"Kuwabara progresses quickly," Kurama added. "We're quite proud of him, aren't we Hiei?"
Hiei rolled his eyes. Kuwabara glowered, but he smiled when he looked at me.
"Don't you worry, Keiko," he said. "I'm going to kick Toguro's butt six ways from Sunday at the tournament, you'll see!"
"Glad to hear it."
"Heh." Hiei smirked at Kuwabara over the top of a mug of soup. "You can't even kick my ass yet. What hope do you have of besting Toguro in a fight?"
"Hey, I did it before!" Kuwabara said. "I can do it again, too!"
"And yet he managed to come back from the grave. Seems you did a poor job exterminating him."
Kuwabara sat up, brandishing a fist. "Why, you—!"
"Now, now," Kurama chided. "Injuring our teammates hurts all our chances of survival."
Kuwabara hesitated, but eventually he lowered his fist with a grumble. "Fine. But I'll be strong as hell but the time the tournament comes." A glare he aimed at Hiei. "Just you wait and see, shrimp."
Hiei rolled his eyes. "I won't hold my breath."
Kuwabara started to yell something, but then he caught sight of Kurama's scolding expression and swallowed the aggression down. Instead he turned up his nose with a harrumph. "I'm going to ignore you now," he informed Hiei, and then he pointedly angled himself toward Kurama. "So, Kurama, you said we'll start our really special energy exercises soon. Can't we start today?"
Kurama shook his head with a regretful smile. "I think it's wise we continue to focus on the physical for the time being."
"But Genkai always started us off with energy and meditation training before physical training!" Kuwabara protested.
"Perhaps she did. I am sure her methods have their merits," Kurama (ever the polite tactician) said. "However, utilizing one's energy reserves during battle makes one aware of their own power, and of how it ebbs and flows. Perhaps becoming aware of your energy before trying to harness it could have benefits, as well." He smiled with kind confidence. "In any case, exposure to many kinds of training is no doubt beneficial. Perhaps you'll learn which works before for you."
"I mean, I guess," Kuwabara said, and then he grinned. "I mean, I'm not complaining. I'm just happy you agreed to help me train at all, y'know?"
Kurama nodded, offering a murmured affirmation of his promise to help Kuwabara train, but I barely heard him. I set down my food again and frowned. "Say, Kuwabara? Why didn't you go with Yusuke to Genkai's to train, anyway?"
"Easy—she said I shouldn't, and I'm not about to get on her bad side." He shrugged, looking at once regretful but also resigned. "Genkai helped me get way stronger and learn to harness my powers, but Yusuke is her true apprentice. She has to teach him what she knows, and if I showed up I'm sure she'd train me a little… but I don't want him to miss out on anything. He's the one Toguro is targeting the most." His fist clenched, resolution gleaming in the depths of his dark eyes. "I won't be the reason he doesn't learn every last scrap of what Genkai can offer."
His reasoning made sense, even if I was internally sad that Kuwabara wouldn't get to work with Genkai again—at least not right away. "That's good of you to keep Yusuke's needs in mind," I said. "You're a good friend."
Pink tinged Kuwabara's cheeks; he scratched his chin and looked bashfully to the side, smile breaking across his face like the sun through clouds. "Heh. Yeah. I'm pretty cool," he said—and his smile faded, jaw jutting in a look of blocky determination. "But if I wanna keep up with Yusuke after his super special awesome Genkai training, I'm gonna have to work twice as hard as I have been." He held up his hands and started ticking off fingers. "Let's see. Three, two… I wonder how many days a week I can take off of school before they make me fail a grade?"
I was shaking my head before he finished talking. "Nope. No. Nah. No way. You are not skipping school to train."
His hands fell like stones into his lap. "What?! But why not?!"
"Because you have to get into a good high school, that's why," I said. "You can't fail now, not with so few semesters left to impress. You only just got your GPA back up and whatnot!"
"I mean, yeah, I guess. But you don't see Yusuke getting all hung up on that stuff." Kuwabara ducked his chin toward his chest to grumble, "I don't think he's planning on coming back for weeks, and our winter break'll be over in just a few days."
"That's true," I said. "But unlike you, Yusuke has no desire to get into a good college someday, and he doesn't give a crap about going to high school, either." I picked up my food and took a bite with a sigh. "Sometimes I wonder if he'll even finish middle school, given how much he skips."
Kuwabara looked like he grudgingly agreed with me, but he said, "I'll probably wish I'd skipped more school and thought less about my grades if I don't get strong enough to survive the tournament…"
"And if you do survive and you've tanked your grades while training, you'll probably wish you'd died in the ring." I smiled a crooked smile. "Because that would probably be less painful than any punishment Shizuru could dish out."
"Eep!" He clapped a hand over his mouth, eyes huge with horror. "I forgot about her!" And with that, he nodded so hard I feared he might break his neck. "I will be at school on Monday, like I'm supposed to."
"Good. It's settled." After a delicate bite of sashimi, I asked, "Speaking of which. Is your sister at home today?"
"Yeah. Why do you ask?"
"Need a trim." I grabbed the end of my bangs between my fingertips and stared at them, cross-eyed. "It's amazing how often you need to visit the salon when you have a short style, and your sister is basically the only person I trust to come near me with scissors."
Kuwabara shuddered. "Me too. But only when she's in a good mood."
I hid a laugh behind my knuckles, but Kuwabara's grave expression didn't change. In fact, it just got a little darker; Kurama and I exchanged a look. He shrugged. I, however, had an inkling as to what was wrong, so to Kuwabara I said, "So, you still haven't told her about all of this?"
Kuwabara sagged like a balloon under the point of a needle. "No," he admitted to his knees. "I will later, I swear, but for now… she'd worry. So it's gotta be a secret, OK?"
He looked so sad, dejected, and conflicted that I could resist reaching out and patting his foot, offering him a sympathetic smile as he looked up at me. "I understand," I said, because I did understand what it was like to keep secrets for the good of your friends, and Kuwabara returned my smile with one of his own. I patted his foot and stood, shooing the boys off of my quilt once I saw they'd all finished their meals. "All right, then. I should probably head back. Was just here to drop off lunch, anyway." I turned around and leveled a finger at Hiei. "You play nice, you hear me?"
He just tossed his head with a smirk. "Sorry. Nice isn't in my nature."
"No, but eating is," I deadpanned. "Next time maybe there won't be a bento with your name on it."
His eyes popped open. "You wouldn't da—"
"Ha! Just kidding!" I stuck out my tongue; he glared at it. "See you tomorrow, huh?"
"Hmmph." Another head-toss as he spun on his heel and marched back into the clearing. "Kuwabara, with me."
"Ugh, do I gotta?" Kuwabara moaned, but he dragged himself after Hiei anyway. Walking backward, he waved at me and said in much, much happier tones, "Bye, Keiko! Thanks for the food. Can't wait to see your new cut tomorrow!"
"You're more into hair than I am," I joked as I raised my hand. "Bye!"
Another wave, and he was off clashing with Hiei once again. I knelt and gathered up the empty bento boxes and thermoses, and as I stuffed them back into my bag Kurama knelt at my side. He gathered up the rest of the cutlery and said, "Let me walk you to the road?"
Normally he just did it, rather than ask if he could, and when I met his eyes I saw in them a subtle light that said he was asking for a reason. I nodded, earning a satisfied smile in return, and once we packed up all of the dishes Kurama and I began the long walk back through the woods.
It didn't take him long to make his reasons for asking known, though of course he was very indirect about it at first; that's Kurama for you, I guess. "So," he said once the sounds of Kuwabara and Hiei fighting faded into the distance.
"So?" I replied when he did not continue.
"What are you doing after your hair cut?"
"Catching up with a few friends," I said, shrugging. "Nothing too interesting."
But apparently I was wrong. "Friends," Kurama repeated, and then his eyes narrowed. "That boy, Minato?"
"Maybe," I said. "What's it to you?"
I'd spoken with a hint of tease in my voice, but if Kurama noticed, he gave no indication. His reply was, instead, perfectly sincere when he said: "I'm glad you have a friend like him."
I blinked. "Eh?"
"One who must be even more of a peer than I am," he explained. "One you can undoubtedly confide in."
I stopped in my tracks, voice rising to a higher register when I yelped, "Eh?!"
"Yes." Kurama walked a few paces ahead before looking at me over his shoulder. When he saw my stunned face, he frowned. "He's like you, isn't he?"
"EH?!"
That was all I was capable of, after all: Standing stock still, knees knocked and arms akimbo, staring at Kurama as if he'd sprouted another arm from his chest, bellowing a sound of confused, aghast astonishment to the trees. Somewhere overhead a crow cawed, wings beating as it beat a retreat into the sky. Kurama, however, didn't appear at all perturbed.
"He's older than he looks, in the same manner as you, correct?" he said. When I only stared, pulse beating out of my chest, he frowned. "Was I not supposed to know?"
"Wh-what?" Stammered words squeaked out of my mouth syllable by syllable. "I don't—did he tell—how do you—?"
A range of emotions crossed Kurama's face, starting with surprise and ending with amusement. "No, he didn't tell me. I merely deduced. And to be honest, I thought you dropped a hint on purpose."
"Nope," I forced out from between my teeth. "No hints were dropped. None at all. Nope. Nooooope."
"I see," Kurama said in a grave tone that only barely covered the laughter building behind his eyes—and at the sight of that cheer, my cheeks flushed. I found myself stalking forward and past him on stiff legs, putting him behind me after a few quick steps.
"Where are you going?" Kurama called.
"You're too smart for your own good and I'm mad at you!"
At that he outright laughed. I kept walking, not stopping even when he called my name. Footsteps crunched over the twiggy ground; a hand closed gently around my arm, pulling me to a gradual stop. I wouldn't look at Kurama as he stood across from me, though, eyes fixed intently on his shoes as I tried not to let my head explode with embarrassment, shock, nerves—
"That night he helped you home—you told him he must have been a knight in his past life," Kurama said. "Was that not a message for me? To the others it seemed like a passing remark about his obvious chivalry, but in context…"
"It… it was more of a figure of speech than a hint. It's not like he was originally born in the 1500s or something." I groaned and covered my face with my hands, flesh heating even more beneath my fingertips. "Me and my big, metaphorical mouth."
"Kei," Kurama said, but gently.
"I chose too literal a metaphor and you and your stupid, enormous brain ran with it straight to the correct conclusion." I glared at him from between my fingers. "Isn't that just like you?"
"Well," he said. "Perhaps it will make you feel a little better to know that I didn't make the connection until a day or so ago."
I eyed him with outright suspicion. "Oh, really?"
"Yes. After you fell asleep that night, I spoke with him, but he was too discreet to let anything slip. And at the time, I was too concerned with safeguarding you against further attack to truly dissect your language." A delicate shrug. "He seemed mature for his age, however, and he did not balk at the sight of the supernatural. Then, later, when I recalled what you said about a past life…" At that, a small smile graced his lips. "I further recalled that you were clearly nervous that day I met him unexpectedly at Aikido. I doubted you would be nervous to introduce a friend of mundane consequence."
It was true. Damn him, every last observation and word of it was true, and at the sound of those truths my teeth started to grind. "Two and two makes an inconvenient four," I said.
"Indeed." Now Kurama looked at me with outright interest, scanning my face over again with glittering green eyes. "Is he another of our eventual allies or enemies met too soon?"
I covered my face with my hands again. It was with the greatest reluctance that I admitted: "Um. Kind of?"
Thanks to my unfortunate attempt at a too-real joke, Kurama had figured out almost everything. He didn't know about Minato's connection to another canon, mostly because Kurama wasn't aware there were other canons in this world at all, but his inconveniently gargantuan brain had still come to an alarmingly close conclusion. Should I tell him the real truth? Let sleeping dogs lie? Pretend he'd hit the nail on the head and just let him think what he wanted? Because telling him about Sailor V was probably a bad idea despite how nice it would be to just be honest, and—
Warm fingers curled around my wrist, finding that single stripe of exposed skin between the cuff of my jacket and the ends of my winter gloves. With only the barest suggestion of force, Kurama encouraged me to lower my hands and look at him, although I did an admirable job of avoiding eye contact (for the most part; every time we looked at each other, his mouth quirked like he wanted to laugh, and that made me cheeks heat up in an unending cycle of oh my god what the fuck do I do?). Kurama didn't pry, however, nor did he demand my honesty. Instead his thumb traced a single, comforting circle over my wrist before he let go of my arm.
"I know better than to press," Kurama murmured. "Tell him hello for me, however."
It was a reprieve and I knew better than to question it or to tempt his greater curiosity. I saluted with comical eagerness, trying to dispel tension with humor. "Will do, sir. See you tomorrow. I can walk the rest of the way, solo-mission style."
"See you," he said as I turned away—but before I could get far, he spoke again. "And Kei?"
I stopped and eyed him skittishly over my shoulder. "What?"
"I'm sorry for stumbling upon that secret."
Looked like he meant it, too, or at least was playing at pretending to mean it—although his expression looked sincere enough, that wicked sparkle in his eye was hard to ignore. I sighed, shoulders sagging, and said, "No apologies necessary. It's not your fault you have a brain the size of Mongolia and I lack any and all semblance of self-awareness."
Kurama let out a sudden bark of laughter before putting a hand to his mouth to stifle it. He looked as surprised at the laugh as I felt; I grinned crookedly and trotted off with a wave, bolting away down the path with another shouted farewell before he could decide to ask more questions.
I was no match for Kurama's Einstein brain, but at least I could disarm him with humor.
Shizuru's strong fingers rubbed delicious circles across my scalp as she washed my hair. She'd invested in a proper beautician's chair and shampooing sink during the past few months, allowing her to even better run her business out of her family's home—and holy shit did I love that chair. The padded neck rest and seat were wonderfully relaxing, though of course they weren't as relaxing as the feel of Shizuru's massage or the scent of the shampoo she'd lathered through my hair. I probably could have gone another week or two before visiting her for a cut, but I needed to do something just for me, dammit, and a haircut and scalp massage were just what the doctor ordered. Hell, I deserved a full body massage after all I'd been through in the past few weeks. I'd have to ask Shizuru if she knew of a good place to visit for just such a treatment…
Eventually, as all good things must come to an end, Shizuru's ministrations came to a close. She rinsed conditioner from my hair with warm water before telling me to sit up and draping a towel around my shoulders. I stood and followed her into the kitchen, where she bade me sit in a swivel chair (another recent business investment) and don a smock. She unrolled a canvas bag of equipment on the counter and selected a comb from its contents, then moved to stand behind me and out of sight. I closed my eyes as she tugged the comb through my hair, enjoying the feel of the tines against my scalp.
Shizuru very casually remarked, "You gonna tell me where my baby brother's been getting off to every day this week?"
At first I thought I hadn't heard her right. Upon replaying what she said, I realized that, in fact, I had. My eyes snapped open and I breathed an eloquent, "Huh?"
One hand appeared over my shoulder. Between Shizuru's fingers was a small sprig of pine needle. "Found this in your hair." The hand retreated out of sight. "Kuwabara keeps coming home with them in his pockets."
"… does he, now?" I said, hyperconscious of the fact my ears had started to heat up and Shizuru had a perfect view of them.
"Yup." The comb passed over my head a few times. "And he keeps wearing turtlenecks."
I frowned. "Turtlenecks?"
"Yup." She whistled low between her teeth. "And I walked in one him getting dressed the other day. It's funny. It looked almost like he had a bruise on his neck."
"… a bruise on his neck?"
"Mmm hmm. So tell me." An impact reverberated through the chair as she kicked it around, spinning me to face her so she could lean on the armrests, nose to nose with me, expression absolutely ice cold. "Was it a hickey? You two been making out in the woods lately or something?"
I stared at her.
She stared at me.
I stared at her.
One of Shizuru's brows lifted.
I went supernova.
"Oh, hell no!" I shrieked, voice at least three octaves higher than usual before I buried my face in my hands. "Shizuru, please! Don't be gross!"
From between my splayed fingers, I saw her stand up straight and shrug. "Hey, you never know. Maybe baby bro final developed some game." Her arms crossed over her chest. "But if it's not a little romantic rendezvous…"
"Uh." I let my hands drop, because now that she'd dropped the notion of me having secret trysts with her little brother (I will not date till I turn 18! I wanted to shout) I needed to supply an alternate theory. Kuwabara had only just finished telling me he'd tell his sister what was up eventually, but on his terms. Thus, I wracked my brain and eventually managed to blurt a hurried: "Study sessions."
Her brow lifted again. "Study sessions."
"Yeah."
"In the woods?"
"We're. Uh. We're studying leaves."
"You're lying," Shizuru said, voice completely blank. "And you wouldn't lie about something small, which means it's big. So…" She tapped her fingers on her bicep, scanning me from toes to teeth with agonizing indolence. "It's something about Spirit World, I'm guessing, because otherwise you'd probably just blurt it out."
I froze, shocked into it by her astuteness, but soon I forced a bright laugh. Channeling my inner Botan, I waved a hand in dismissal and said through a laugh, "Spirit World? Spirit World? Why in heaven's name would it be anything about—"
Shizuru reached into her pocket while I spoke. She pulled out a cigarette and lifted a lighter to her lips. "Hysterical laughter, right on cue." My words died as the lighter clicked, fire blazing into life. "Looks like I hit the nail on the head." She slipped her lighter into her pocket and took a long, slow drag. "So what does Spirit World want this time?"
I gaped at her, then buried my face in my hands again. Something I was doing quite a lot of these days, but what the hell else was I supposed to do when I got called out? "Oh god, Shizuru, please," I moaned. "I just got the whole psychanalysis bit from Kurama, so please, not you, too—"
"So you were with Kurama today, at the place with all the pine needles," she cut in, seizing at once upon my godforsaken slip of the tongue (and whoops, there went my big, enormous mouth getting me in trouble again). Shizuru continued, "If I had to bet, my brother was probably there, too. You kids tend to stick together these days. Damn teens." She took another drag, exhaling a cloud of blue smoke to the side because even when interrogating me, she knew I didn't like smoke in my face. "Pine needles, pine needles... somewhere remote, I'm guessing. Deep in a park, or maybe on the outskirts of town." Her lips curled when she smirked. "Judging by the color of your ears, I'm close."
I covered my face again. "I hate you."
"Liar." A third drag. Her hip cocked to the side, weight resting on one foot as she regarded the ceiling through cool eyes. "Spirit World, remote place, Kurama was there… which means this has past week has been a secret mission, or you've been out in the woods preparing for one." Satisfied by her own deductions, Shizuru cracked an understated grin. "Somebody's been training, it seems. Which I guess explains the bruises I mentioned."
"Oh, god." I flopped backward in the chair and threw my arm over my eyes, groaning. "Oh, fuck me sideways."
"Maybe when you're older," Shizuru said. She ignored my mortified sputterings and the scandalized cry of her name and asked, "So where's he been, kiddo? Spill."
"OK, look." I threw up my hands. "I specifically asked if he told you and he specifically said he didn't want to tell you yet." At Shizuru's look of cool murder I held up a frantic and pacifying hand. "Yet! Yet! Which means he will tell you soon. Um. He'll tell you eventually. Someday?" Rubbing the back of my damp neck, conscious of the wet hair clinging cold to my hot cheeks, I said, "And I really think you should hear it from me instead of him because betraying his trust wouldn't be a good look and then he'd never trust me again and you'll be out of a spy, so it's really in your best interests to not make me tell you. OK?"
Shizuru didn't reply right away. In fact, for a long time, she didn't reply at all. Her face bore no expression, brown eyes distant but assessing as we traded a look that lasted for much longer than I saw reason for. She stood there and stared at me until her cigarette burned down and she had to discard the filter in an ash tray. When its trail of acrid smoke went cold, Shizuru blotted out the cigarette and kicked the chair back around, once more going over my damp hair with her comb.
With my back to her, she spoke.
"I understand your heart is in the right place, here, but I'm his sister." Her gruff voice did not falter, did not stutter as she spoke. "Our mom's dead. Our dad's too busy providing to be around much. I'm all my baby bro's got, in some ways." A moment's pause, so slight as to be imperceptible. "There's been a tight feeling in my chest since New Year's Day. Like there's a weight on the air, and it's getting heavier every day."
I drew in a breath, sharp and short. Shizuru spun the chair around. Her face still bore no expression despite what she'd said to me, and it continued to remain blank and distant as she put down the comb and exchanged it for scissors. Shizuru used her pointer and middle fingers to comb through my bangs; she snipped at the ends of them with her other hand, transforming them from shapeless shag to punk-rock awesomeness with just a few clips.
"And baby bro… he thinks he can hide it, but he can't," she said, voice so low I had to strain to hear it. "I can see it in his face. There's something coming. A storm, maybe. Would explain that feeling in the air. Whatever it is, Kazuma knows what's on the way—and I want to know about it, too." She stood back, both to admire her handiwork and to better look me in the eye. "So, Keiko—I'm not asking you to betray his trust. I'm asking you to let me be there for him." Her mouth curled the barest fraction. "Baby bro has a good head on his shoulders. I just want to stand behind those shoulders to catch him if he stumbles."
She'd let her mask slip a little, talking about her brother like that. I could see it in her eyes, in their subtle shimmer of affection and exasperation, which betrayed everything she wasn't saying even after this admission. It was, perhaps, the most vulnerable she'd been in front of me, and it laid out everything she was feeling in just a few neat sentences.
Now, who the hell would I be to say 'no' after a speech like that?
An asshole, that's what. But even if I felt Shizuru deserved to know something, I still needed to honor Kuwabara's request for discretion. How to balance these things? What to do, what to do…
"OK." I took a deep breath to center myself, then looked Shizuru dead in her impassive eyes. "I'm not going to tell you anything. I'm just going to confirm that your guesses—well, that they were uncomfortably on point. So really I'm not giving anything away. You did all the guesswork yourself." Another deep breath. "You're right. It's Spirit World shit. And it's going to be the single most dangerous thing your brother has ever faced."
Her eyes narrowed. "Go on."
"We have till Spring Break, and then… they fight." I shrugged. "Until then, they train."
"Who's 'they?'"
"Kuwabara. Yusuke. Kurama. Hiei. Y'know, the usual crew. Oh, and a fifth fighter they haven't nailed down yet, but Yusuke has a lead."
"You don't say," she said, looking far less than even moderately impressed. "Too bad I've got even less faith in Yusuke than I do in my brother to pry favors out of people…"
She trailed off, one hand on her hip, the other hand hanging loose at her side with scissors dangling from her fingertips. It wasn't often Shizuru stared off into space, but just then that's exactly what she did, gazing past the kitchen and into some metaphysical distance beyond it I could not begin to fathom, nor one I could hope to follow. All I could do was reach out and touch her hand, to bring her back to the here and now and try to comfort her as best I could.
"They'll be fine, Shizuru," I said when she looked at me at last. "They'll be fine. I promise."
She shut her eyes and heaved a laugh through her nose. "Yeah, kiddo. If you say so—but forgive me if I'm not convinced."
Shizuru finished cutting my hair that day without saying much else, and without demanding that I give her more information. I left that day sporting a fantastic haircut, and I was followed out the door by Shizuru's quiet assurance she wouldn't let slip the fact that I'd blabbed when Kuwabara told me not to. Of course, I wondered what she would do with the information I had given her—but thankfully, I didn't have to wait long. A few days after my haircut, Kuwabara gave me a call and asked, "Hey, did my sister mention any plans to you?"
"Plans?" I said. "What kind of plans?"
"Travel plans, I guess? I woke up today and she was gone—not gone-gone like you were, though. There's a suitcase missing and she left a note."
"Interesting. What does the note say?"
Paper rustled over the phone line. Kuwabara pitched his voice high, mocking his sister's when he dutifully read, "'Gone to beauty school seminar in Hokkaido. Be back in a few weeks. Eat your vegetables. Will send pocket money.'" He heaved a sighed, paper crumpling again. "And that's fine, she can do whatever she likes, but I dunno, Keiko. It just seems weird for her to go running off without telling me first."
"Yeah," I said. "That is weird."
Weird—but I had a hunch I knew exactly where she'd gone. As soon as Kuwabara and I hung up, I dialed the phone number of the Sanada family, and I was not at all surprised to hear young Fubuki confirm that Shizuru was already in the mountains with Kuroko, training to face the unknown danger looming long and dark before us.
Soon winter break came to a close, and school started back up again.
To explain Yusuke's continued absence, Atsuko crafted a lie that Yusuke had mononucleosis and was too contagious to come to school. I, of course, made a joke about how no one would possibly believe that dweeb caught the kissing bug, let alone that he could find anyone to spread it to, but the joke wasn't nearly as fun without Yusuke around to react to it. Sure, he called every now and again to tell Atsuko he was still alive, but he never called me personally and I never seemed to be at the Urameshi residence when one of his occasional calls came through. Me being me, I couldn't help but wonder why I wasn't on his contact list. Genkai had never given me her phone number and caller ID wasn't really a thing yet, so I didn't know how to reach Yusuke short of marching into the mountains to confront him myself—and of course my pride refused to let me do that.
Figuring out why he'd left without saying goodbye to me would have to wait until he came back, much though that hurt to admit.
In his absence, I concentrated on school and on keeping Kuwabara's grades afloat as he balanced training and his studies. Kurama helped some with this, advising Kuwabara on his classes in between practice bouts and on the nights he wasn't meeting up with me. I carried on with my usual weekly parole meetings with Kurama and Hiei through visiting them at the training site most of the time, but Kurama and I enjoyed our weekly walks and dinners together and did not let them die despite the circumstances. When I wasn't watching them train or tutoring Kuwabara, I was at aikido. With fewer friends to hang out with, I had more time to increase my number of weekly lessons, something I felt I needed to do if I was to defend myself against demons at the tournament.
Hideki didn't ask about these increased lessons, of course. He was too private to pry. He merely commented that I seemed more focused than usual, and that perhaps having a new sparring partner in Minato (who now attended lessons with us regularly) had expanded my repertoire of fighting moves.
All in all, a new routine had emerged, one marked both by a change in my daily activities as well as my continued anxiety. Knowing what was coming, barreling toward us along the tracks of the passage of time like a runaway train, often kept me up at night, and often I had to force myself to lucid dream to keep the nightmares at bay. At first I had been happy we had more than a few weeks to train, but as the days crept by, I wondered if the extended timeframe was a blessing, after all. Two and a half months was a much longer time to (over)think about things and to get wrapped up in your own head.
Speaking of which, my thoughts remained chock full of various mysteries as the weeks went by. What did Hiruko intend to accomplish at the Dark Tournament remained chief among them, of course. Some secondary worries (how to get there, for one thing) and potential changes to canon given this extended training session also dogged my mental steps. I confess I spent pretty much all my time mulling over my myriad questions, endlessly tossing and turning at night as I tried to suss them out. They popped up when I watched the boys train, or when I daydreamed during class, or when my nightly dreams turned dark and boding. But what the heck was I supposed to do about it, other than wait for the answers to come as they would?
Too bad I hated waited.
Even when Hiei popped up for a random meal, the questions pestered me. We would sit on boxes in the alley in silence, him slurping noodles while I stared into space and thought endless thoughts, snake eating its tail in an infinite loop. During one of our first solo dinners after the Toguro incident and the night the robed trio invited Hiei to the tournament, I'd wondered if he might ask about the pink haired boy in my dreams and perhaps join me in asking my infinite questions, but he did not. He just sat down to eat without a word, and when I started to talk and ask him if he wanted to know something, he put down his chopsticks and glared.
"I said I don't want to muck about with fate, Meigo," he'd reminded me. "Do I really need to spell that out for you again?"
And so I'd let it go, and I continued to ask my questions on my own.
That's the state of mind he found me in about two weeks after school started, when he appeared in the alley on the night of one of our scheduled parole meetings. Without a word he sat down to eat (as was his custom), giving me a curt nod of recognition as we dug into our food. We ate in silence for a time, but the silence eventually began to weigh on me (mostly because I couldn't get my damned questions out of my head when it was quiet). I opened my mouth to talk, to just spout some random shit about my school day, but before I could get going, Hiei sat up straight. His eyes swung to his left, down the path of the alley toward the street beyond. I looked, too, only to feel my eyes widen when I saw someone standing there.
She walked forward with a nervous wave when she saw us looking at her. "Hello Hiei, Keiko," she said with a bright, but nervous, giggle. "It's good to see you both."
"Botan?" I put down my bowl of soup. "What are you doing here?"
Since Yusuke left, Botan had bounced around between the Urameshi, Kuwabara, and Yukimura residences at random. She often showed up at training sessions on weekends and evenings, and more than once she and I had hung out for a girl's night out (or in, if we weren't feeling too social). Botan loved to hang out, but while she was quite the social butterfly, it wasn't like her to show up unannounced. She always called first, ever the very careful and considerate houseguest—so why was she here now, standing awkwardly before us and fidgeting?
"You hungry?" I stood up and made a move toward the door to the restaurant. "I could make a plate—?"
But she was already shaking her head, so I sat back down. "No, thank you. I've already eaten. It's, ah…" She ducked her chin. "It's Hiei I want to talk to, actually."
"… oh." That was certainly unexpected. Wondering if I should leave or something, I picked my food back up and dug in. "Well. Go ahead."
Hiei, however, was not as welcoming. "What in the hell do you want?" he said, looking Botan over with a sneer.
She bore his ire with dignity and took a deep breath. "I think—I think I'm ready to start learning to master… well." She gestured at her forehead. "You know."
Hiei's face screwed up. "Why?"
"I want to be useful. And I think I can be useful if I master this, you see." The words burst from her mouth the moment he asked his question, as if maybe she's prepared herself ahead of time. Clasping her hands over her chest, she looked at Hiei with wide, bright eyes and said, "Hiei, I asked you before to teach me, and you were skeptical that I was serious. But I took your words to heart, and ever since then I have been working on developing my spiritual power. Kuwabara and Yusuke helped me learn the basics of power manipulation, you see. I was even able to take on a strong demon named Miyuki recently, while on a mission for Spirit World."
She seemed proud of that victory. Hiei didn't even blink, though: He just stared, eyes enormous and expressionless and reflecting eerie red in the dark. She gave another nervous chuckle and pulled her ponytail forward over her chest, fingers running down its length to soothe her nerves.
"I know I'm probably not going to be amazing," she continued with a chipper smile that only looked a little forced. "But I think I can be good. And with the tournament coming up, I think it's important I contribute to the team's well-being. I can heal, but I should also learn to fight, and better than I can now."
I bit the noodles hanging from my mouth and hurriedly swallowed them down. "Hey, Botan? You want to go to the tournament with them?"
She gave an emphatic nod. "I do."
"I mean. I support you, but is that wise?"
"Maybe. Maybe not. But maybe if they boys could ever use backup, and if I could be that backup…"
Hiei's eyes narrowed. "What makes you think we can't handle it on our own?"
Botan bit her lip. "I didn't say you couldn't, Hiei. Don't be silly. You're very strong. Just…"
"Just what?" he growled.
Botan shook her head, though what she was trying to deny I could not say. "The tournament is bloodthirsty. And you're being sent into battle so suddenly. If Koenma had never made the team tangle with the Toguro brothers, you never would have had to fight in the tournament. I knew that mission was a bad idea, and yet—"
She shook her head again. Hiei smirked.
"I see," he said, void resonating with a note of impish triumph. "So even Spirit World's own lackey can see their incompetence."
"I'm no one's lackey!"
I froze, noodles hanging from my mouth in a streamer. Without moving my head, my eyes cut between Botan and Hiei—Hiei, whose eyes had widened at Botan's outburst, and Botan, who stood with hand over her mouth, cheeks pink with embarrassment. Eventually she cleared her throat, hand balling into fists at her sides.
"After I was cut with the Shadow Sword," she said, voice soft and measured and thrumming with tension, "Spirit World locked me in what was, in no uncertain terms, a prison. And if they had the chance, they would drag me back and lock me away all over again. I need to be strong enough to resist them. But more than that—I want to help, because Spirit World…"
She trailed off. It wasn't often Botan wore anything besides a smile, so the haggard cast to her magenta eyes had my hackles raising in alarm at once. I reached out and hooked my hand into hers, gazing up into her face with a look of concern.
"What is it, Botan?" I said.
She shook her head another time. Drew in a breath. Let it go. "Koenma does his best. But there are rumblings of manipulation behind the scenes. I never used to believe the rumors, but…" She looked at Hiei again. "Hiei. You're gruff, sometimes, but you're a good person."
He nearly dropped his damn bowl of ramen, that took him so off guard, but he caught the bowl again before it could spill. "What in the seven hells are you babbling about, woman?" he snarled.
"You and Kurama both worked so hard to rescue Keiko the night she went missing," Botan said. "You've aided Yusuke at risk to your own well-being more than once. You aren't bad people. But some in Spirit World would have me believe that because you're demons, you can't be trusted. And those people would be wrong." Her neck drooped, eyes downcast. "I'm sorry for judging you before now."
Hiei just shook his head at the apology. "I don't care what you think about me."
"No. Of course not," she said with a sad smile. "And I don't suppose anything I said just now has any bearing on asking you to train me, so let me change the subject." At that she pulled her hand from mine and bowed, long and low and beseeching. Botan said, "Please, Hiei-san. Please consider training me to harness the powers of my third eye, so that I may aid you and my other friends in the battles to come."
But Hiei only scoffed. "Did you rehearse that little speech?"
Botan straightened up with a nervous chuckle. "Maybe?"
If that bothered him, he didn't show it. He just harrumphed under his breath and glared at her. "I asked you why you wanted to train, but tell me. Why should I want to train you?"
Botan stared, mystified. "Why should you…?"
"Why should I waste my time training the likes of you?" Hiei said. "You won't be at the level the tournament requires even with months of rigorous training. And why should I take time out of my own training to cater to you?" He shook his head and scoffed, turning from Botan as if to dismiss her. "I'm already training the oaf. You're a waste of my time."
"But Hiei—you have a third eye, yourself," Botan said, voice edged with pleading. "There's no one else I can ask!" When Hiei did not turn around or acknowledged her, she stepped toward him and put a hand to her chest. "I did what you said, Hiei. I trained my body and my mind just like you said I should. I showed initiative and I worked hard. But now I need specific help harnessing the powers of the Jagan, and you're the only person I can count on to help me!"
Still, Hiei did not budge. Desperation gleamed in Botan's eyes like molten silver.
"You don't have to train me," she said in a small voice. "You can just… you can give me tips, and I can show you my progress. That's all I ask."
"You ask too much." Hiei bared his teeth. "I have no interest in—"
"Only true masters of an art can teach it to another."
This came from me, slipping from between my lips like a cartoon character on a banana peel. Still, the quick murmur caught Hiei's ear at once, and he turned toward me atop his crate with a pronounced scowl.
"What did you say?" he said. "Do you have an opinion to share, Meigo?"
I shrugged. "Not really? It's just something my grandmother used to say." I held a finger aloft and used my best imitation of an old lady voice to clarify, "If you can't teach something to someone else, or explain how to do something in simple terms, you're probably not a master of that subject, yourself." The finger dropped. "That's about the gist of what she meant."
Hiei bristled like an angry hedgehog. "Are you suggesting I'm not a master of my evil eye?" he said, disdain dripping from every syllable.
"Oh, nah, nothing like that. It was just a quote that popped into my head, that's all. Although…" I shrugged again. "It would reflect well on your mastery of the subject if you were able to mentor a capable protégé. Make you look like you know what you're doing, y'know?" I hefted my bowl of ramen to my face and readied my chopsticks. "But that's all I have to say about that."
Botan shook her head. "It's all right, Keiko. You don't have to fight for me. Hiei's right. He has to prepare for the tournament, himself. If I were to distract him, and he went to the tournament unprepared and got hurt—"
And then Hiei was rounding on her with murder in his eye. "Are you suggesting I can't handle training someone else and myself at the same time?" he demanded.
Botan backed up a step. "N-no, Hiei, I'm—"
"I mean. She's right, though," I interjected. When Hiei's head whipped toward me I said, "Don't you have a lot of preparing to do in terms of your own strength? If you spend time on her and neglect yourself and lose a match…"
Hiei shot to his feet, ramen sloshing as he set it roughly on a crate beside him. "I will not lose no matter my handicaps!" he snarled at me, and then he raised one finger toward Botan. "You, girl. Meet me tomorrow night, at moonrise, here."
Botan did a double-take. "What? Really? You're willing to train me?"
"Did I say that?" Hiei barked. "No, you fool. I'm going to test you. If you pass, I'll think about training you, but don't hold your breath." He marched forward, finger still level with her nose, and she went cross-eyed to stare at his offending digit. "Heed this warning: Should you somehow pass, the moment I tire of you, or the very minute you annoy me, I'm gone and I will teach you nothing. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, of course," Botan said, nodding like a bobblehead on a bumpy road. "Yes, Hiei-sensei, I will do as you say!"
"Don't call me sensei!" Hiei snapped.
"Hiei-shisho!"
"Not that, either!" He flung a hand at the alleymouth and stalked away. "Get out of my sight!"
"Y-yes Hiei-sen—I mean, Hiei-san. Good night!" She dipped a bow to him, and then a bow to me. "And thank you, Keiko."
"You're welcome," I said, though why she was thanking me I wasn't exactly sure.
But then, as she rose from her bow… Botan winked.
As she ran out of the alley with a giggler, I had to wonder if her concern for Hiei's well-being was mostly an act, and if she hadn't been playing along with my attempts to manipulate his pride, after all.
Not that Hiei had noticed her deception. He returned to his crate and sat down heavily once again, grumbling into his soup, "She should be thanking me, not you."
I kept my eyes fixed carefully on my ramen. "Sure."
"I'm the one who's going to train her, not you."
"That's right."
"So the thanks should be—wait a minute."
Hiei stared at me through narrowed eyes. I whistled between my teeth, avoiding making eye contact. A low rumble of frustration bubbled in his throat after a moment of tense silence.
"Don't think for even one second you manipulated me just now—" Hiei hissed.
"Wouldn't dream of it." I pointed at his ramen. "Now eat your food before it gets cold."
Grudgingly, and only after watching me with outright suspicion for at least two minutes, Hiei began to eat again.
I picked at my food. It had been gratifying to help Botan get what she'd been after for so long, and for her to get what I'd tried (and failed) to help her get before, but knowing that she was about to start her own training regimen put the slightest of sour tastes in my mouth. Both Shizuru and Botan were now in training to help our ragtag little bunch, and here I was sitting on my ass getting regular old fighting lessons that would only help me beat the crap out of the lowest common denominator of demon. Sure, I had a few ideas about how to get powers and stuff, but none that I could pursue before the Dark Tournament rolled around. That meant everyone else was going to get their own lovely little training montage, their own moments to be Rocky Balboa, but I was just… I mean, what was his love interest's name? The fact that I couldn't remember tells you all you need to know about how pathetic my situation was. What a joke, right? I felt like an utter joke because I was as useless as a wet dish rag and—
"Stop that."
I looked up to find Hiei glaring at me. "Stop what?"
"Brooding," he replied.
It was my turn to glare. "You don't have a monopoly on brooding, Hiei."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
I sighed. "Nothing."
"Thought so." But his triumphant smile soon turned to a look of longsuffering impatience. "Well. Go on," he said as he waved a hand in my direction.
"Huh?"
"Go on and—what do you call it? Vent?" He rolled his eyes. "Pitiful human custom, but it seems to be the only thing that ends your annoying brooding, which means I'll endure it if I must."
"How kind of you," I muttered.
He scoffed. "Now that's one thing I've never been accused of."
"Really? Never? But you're such a softie!" I crooned—and Hiei shot me a look of absolute murder and put his hand on his sword. My hands shot up between us at once. "OK, OK, I take it back, you're a mean ol' demon feared far and wide and you've never done a kind thing for nobody and your heart is as hard as a rock."
Hiei waited a beat, and then his hand eased off his sword.
"OK. As for venting, I'm frustrated," I said, grateful to express myself no matter what Hiei's justification for listening to me was. "I don't have a way to help the four of you. I can't train with you, I can't heal, I can't do anything useful," I said, ticking off the options on my fingers before throwing my hands into the air. "It's annoying and I don't like it."
"Yes," Hiei remarked. "You are remarkably useless."
"Oh, fuck off!"
"Heh." He pointed at me with his chopsticks and smirked. "That. Hold onto that."
"Onto—?"
"Onto the anger. Anger is useful. Forget the worry and focus on nurturing that fire, instead." He dug the chopsticks into his food. "Maybe we can find a use for you yet."
I stared at the floor as he took another bite. Wheels turning in my head, I swirled my chopsticks through my soup and watched the noodles dance, ropes tangling and untangling like threads winding around a spindle, until I worked up the gumption to voice the thoughts that had been rattling around in my head for days.
Thoughts Hiei had already told me he didn't want to hear.
I took a deep breath. Said: "Hey, Hiei?"
His dour eyes cut my way. "What?"
"I think I know of one way I could be useful to the team," I said, keeping my voice as casual as possible. "But… it's going to make one of us angry."
He set down his bowl and straightened up. "Meigo."
"And that person isn't me, sooo…"
"Meigo," Hiei repeated. "What are you talking about?"
"OK. Look." Another deep breath, and this time I looked at Hiei and smiled. "If I'm going to be useful, I'll need your help with something."
"My help?" he repeated, nose wrinkling with distaste. "First the oaf, then Botan, and now you. I'm not a charity!"
"I know," I said. "But I think you might be the only person who can help me be useful—"
"Now where have I heard that before?" Hiei muttered.
"—and the thing is, you're probably not going to like how you can help. Hence the whole 'one of us will be angry' thing. So. Um?"
"You know what's really making me angry?" Hiei said, every word laced with ire. "You dancing around whatever it is you want to ask me. Just spit it out and be done with it, Meigo, I insist."
"OK, fine!" I said. I set aside my ramen and stood, pacing back and forth as I spoke. "Here's the situation. I think I know a way to help all of you out. It's a small thing, but it might be… important? I'm not sure, but that's really whatever. Anyway." I shook my head, trying to get back on track. "In order to be of use, I need to remember something I have apparently forgotten, and I think you're the best person to help me knock some cobwebs loose."
His eyes widened as he began to catch on. "Meigo," he said, voice thrumming with danger. "You don't mean—?"
But I didn't let him finish. This was my request, and if I wanted to see it through, I needed to face the reality of what I wanted head on—not let Hiei beat me to the punch and do the hard work on my behalf. I held up my hand to silence him, and then I took another deep, deep breath while he looked on in silence, rising to his feet in a surge of fluttering black cloak. We stood face to face as a chill wind swept through the alley, teasing my hair like the fingers of some icy specter.
"Hiei," I said, "if you're willing, I could use your help remembering what death feels like."
And then I held my breath, and I waited for his answer.
NOTES:
Having a really, really hard day today, supremely stressed, but this chapter was a perfect and welcome distraction from the other stuff that's bothering me. Thanks for reading and for making LC such a joy to write. You're the best; thank you.
Many thanks to all of you who chimed in this week and made my day a hell of a lot better in the process: Tatewaki2000, tammywammy9, LadyEllesmere, Ash Blade, Yumi22, Yakiitori, SterlingBee, xenocanaan, MissIdeaphobia, CraftyGal, Kasai Keira, Serendipity's tears, SlytherclawQueen, SpeckledOne, KannaKyomu, Kaiya Azure, general zargon, C S Stars, EdenMae, RebellAngell21, Dark Rose Charm, shen0, yofa, blaze1662001, ahyeon, WaYaADisi1, StrawberryHuggles, DiCuore Alissa, Marian, Metro Neko, Sweetfoxgirl13, Rikkai, Shadowed Replica, Vyxen Hexgrim, Ignis76, The Adorable Muffin, utakatasaturdaynight, Xalmtris, buzzk97, AnimePleasegood, Tay, Kittenfood, RedPanda923, Viviene001, Konohamaya Uzumaki and 8 guests.
