Warnings: Violence

THIS HAS NOT BEEN EDITED. I'll go back and do it tomorrow, but I'm tired, so it'll have to wait. Consider this your warning…


Lucky Child

Chapter 103:

"The Dark Tournament Finals, Round 3"

or

"The Wrong Damn Girl"


Emerging from the dark of the wing and into the glare of the spotlight raised gooseflesh on my arms and calves, but I didn't hesitate despite the frantic beat of my heavy heart. My heeled shoes clicked over the wooden stage, sound echoing out toward the almost-empty theater like the tick of a frantic clock. I hit my mark in only a few seconds, although the cross from wing to center stage felt like it took an hour. Once there, I raised my head and pushed my shoulders back, staring forward with a smile forced upon my face.

I said my name, first. I announced that I was a first soprano. And I named the song I would be singing for this audition. Immediately an unseen piano player's fingers danced across some hidden keys, the intro to my song lilting joyfully into the air. I waited for my cue in silence, throat thick, resisting the urge to scratch an itch on my face and wipe away the sweat beading on my brow. God, the spotlight was hot. Was I sweating? Would sweat show on my crisp white shirt, the bland audition garment my mother had painstakingly ironed that morning? Was that iron as hot as these lights? She wouldn't let me iron the shirt by myself. I was only thirteen, after all. Old enough to audition for a musical, but not old enough to—

The piano player stopped playing, because I had missed my cue.

My heart stuttered, worse than before. "Sorry—"

From the audience, a man's deep voice murmured, "Again, from the top."

The pianist struck of the one-man band once more. I waited, clearing the chatter from my head, concentrating on the beats, waiting for my cue—but my heart hammered against my ribs, bile rising in my throat, embarrassment heating my ears near to burning. But I felt the cue when it came, and dutifully I opened my mouth.

All that came out was a croak.

The piano player stopped playing. Someone rustled papers, a pen tapping restlessly upon a table. Someone else coughed, impatience muffled by good manners.

The unseen man in the audience murmured, "One more time."

The pianist played. I waited. When my cue came, I tried to sing.

Nothing came out, that time.

I turned and walked out of the spotlight and into the cool, comforting dark of the waiting wing.


Beside the ring during the third round of the Dark Tournament finals, I stood trapped in a spotlight from which there could be no escape.

My friends were all looking at me. I knew that intellectually, although at the moment I couldn't turn my head to check. The demons in the stadium roared. I knew that intellectually, but I could hardly hear them over the pounding in my chest. My eyes and ears stayed locked on the elder Toguro's thin and leering face, his grimy grey hair framing his face like corded cobweb. How did he know about me—and what was his motive for turning my friends against me? How much did he know, anyway? Although Atsuko's kidnapping was not canon, my alarm regarding that little wrinkle had taken a momentary backseat. Toguro's vicious grin couldn't be denied, but much though I wanted to pepper him with questions and accusations, my tongue had turned to lead in my mouth.

I just stood there. Frozen. Wishing to speak but wholly incapable, caught in a spotlight I hadn't asked for.

And this suited Toguro just fine. He giggled, a sound like a hammer striking fine china. "Your lack of reply certainly is interesting," he said in his simpering, wheedling voice. "An innocent would be angry to stand so accused, but you're nothing but a quivering deer beneath the scorching light of truth." His sharp chin dipped, eyes two malicious golden chips in his sallow face. "Too stunned to try and convince your friends that you have no idea what I'm talking about? I'll bet you'd go so far as to deny to know who masterminded the kidnapping of your dear friend's mother, even though they are a mutual friend of ours."

Yusuke grabbed my elbow, none too gently, but not hard enough to hurt. "You know who took my mother?" he said, voice rising with every syllable. "Keiko, do you know who took her?"

From his place in the fighting ring, Kuwabara called out, "He's gotta be lying! Right, Keiko? Toguro is lying, isn't he?"

I replied to neither of them, still staring at the smirking, sneering, simpering elder Toguro brother. 'A mutual friend,' he'd said. My first thought had been that the committee was behind Atsuko's abduction, given the committee had been so intent on screwing us over in previous matches—but the younger Toguro brother had already said he'd butchered the committee entirely. And this was true, although I'd forgotten that bit of canon until he'd said it. The committee hardly constituted a 'mutual friend' of mine and Toguro's anyway, which made the next obvious choice of abductor none other than Hiruko… but did the elder Toguro actually know Hiruko? And what could my outing at Toguro's hands achieve for Hiruko, anyway? I wasn't sure, but if I had to pick someone other than Hiruko to mastermind Atsuko's kidnapping, who else could it possibly be?

As I stood there, caged in a prison of my own thought, Yusuke and Kuwabara peppered me with questions I didn't have the presence of mind to truly hear. Soon Kuwabara took to yelling at the elder Toguro to shut his damn mouth and Yusuke started saying something about how the elder Toguro could go fuck himself in an isolated corner somewhere, but I hardly heard that, either—because across the stadium, a glint of light on metal had caught my eye. Sakyo stood on the other side of the ring playing with a cigarette lighter, flipping it open and shut with smooth rotations of his nimble fingers and quick wrists. He smiled when he caught me staring, the merest twitch of his lips telegraphing a friendly enough greeting.

Sakyo. Sakyo could be behind all of this, too. He knew Hiruko, and he had learned enough about me from Hiruko to want to abduct me for an interrogation. He could've told the elder Toguro something about how odd I was, and Sakyo counted as a mutual friend of mine and Toguro's more easily than Hiruko. Perhaps he had told Toguro everything. Perhaps he had kidnapped Atsuko and commanded Toguro to out me in an attempt to fracture and distract my team.

Or did it even matter, who was behind all of this? This was happening, whether I liked it or not, and solving the mystery of who had caused it wouldn't stop this train from careening disastrously from its track.

Perhaps he sensed the tang of desperation draping my head like a black cowl, because the elder Toguro giggled again. "You see the truth in her eyes?" he said in that horrible, smug voice of his. "Even now she's too composed, eyes darting this way and that as she searches for an excuse. An out. A justification for things for which there is no other explanation." He grinned, teeth unnervingly sharp in his all-too-human face. "I dare say she even knows where Atsuko is being held."

Once more, Yusuke rounded on me. "Is that true, Grandma?" he snarled.

My voice returned like someone had flipped a switch inside my brain. "No. Absolutely not," I spat back, glaring at Toguro, trying to exude confidence and sincerity—but my hands shoved deep into the pocket of my hoodie, a defensive gesture I immediately regretted. Trying to sound braver than I felt, I added, "I have no idea where Atsuko—"

Inside my pocket, my fingers curled around something unexpected—and I froze.

The elder Toguro didn't notice, too busy leering at Yusuke to pay me attention. "Urameshi. You should further ask yourselves why neither Hiei nor Kurama has said a word thus far." His head listed sideways, deranged and cavalier. "What do they know about your little friend that you don't, hmm?"

Back in the ring, Kuwabara's face screwed up. "That is kinda weird, now that you bring it up," he said, and then he shook his head like a wet dog. "Wait, no, NO! No, I'm not listening to this!" he said, pointing his blazing Spirit Sword at the elder Toguro. "You're just trying to trick us!"

"Maybe," Yusuke said, "but it is weird." Here he rounded on Hiei and Kurama, who stood off to the side like a pair of roosting crows. "What aren't you two saying, huh?"

But I hardly heard any of that discussion, either. I had pulled the object from my pocket, turning it over in my hands, running it between my fingers again and again and again. It was the thread of thick shag carpet fiber I'd pulled off of my throwing knives, mostly red, almost wine-colored, all shot through with threads of gold, discolored at the end from a bath in demon blood. A fiber from the carpet in that wretched room where I'd finally met Hiruko in person.

Red shot through with gold.

Just like the carpet I'd glimpsed in—

Oblivious, Kurama said to Yusuke in his mildest, calmest voice, "I'm assessing the situation."

"That sounds like a line, and you know it," Yusuke shot back.

"No." Kurama's voice held subtle steel, mild no more. "I am merely attempting to—"

"I do know where Atsuko is," I said.

It was like I'd struck a gong, summoning their attention as dead things summon vultures. Kuwabara gaped while Hiei and Kurama appeared surprised and disgruntled, but it was Yusuke who turned to me inch by inch, shock on his face turning swiftly to thunder.

"I know exactly where she is!" I continued, as much to myself as to my friends. "Like—I'm at least 95% certain I know where to find her, right now!"

Kuwabara shook himself again, recovering with a stammer of, "W-what?! But Keiko, how?"

And Yusuke growled, "How the hell do you—?"

"Yusuke!" I didn't let him finish, marching forward and staring him dead in the face. "Do you trust me?"

He blinked, thunder dissipating. "You're bringing up our fight now?" he said, disbelief coloring every word. "Keiko, now's not the time for—"

I didn't wait for him to get going. There wasn't time. I grabbed him by the shirt and yanked him down to my level, and when he struggled and whined something about me being a complete weirdo, I yanked him down again. Our foreheads cracked together with a sound like colliding coconuts, and although my eyes immediately started to water (my head was not nearly as hard as Yusuke's, after all), I held him in place, staring him down with my teeth bared, forehead pressed to his in an aggressive invasion of his personal space. This was not the sentimental forehead lean I had shared with Kurama. This was a knockdown, drag-out display of gravity, and judging from the shock in Yusuke's expression, he damn well knew I meant business.

"Yusuke!" I demanded, eyes streaming and forehead screaming with pain. "Do. You. Trust. Me?"

"Your eyes—" He stopped, staring. "Why are they—?"

"URAMESHI YUSUKE," I bellowed, giving his shirt a shake. "DO YOU TRUST ME OR DON'T YOU?"

"Yes, yes, I do, all right!?" he blurted. "I trust—"

"Then trust me to make this right, goddamn it," I said. "Can you do that?"

His eyes widened. "What are you going to do?"

I grinned, unable to keep the expression off of my frantic face. "I'm going to get Atsuko back," I told him, and then I shoved Yusuke away, walking backwards toward the stadium stands.

But Yusuke didn't appear convinced. "Keiko, wait a minute—"

"The boy is right," the elder Toguro snapped, glaring. "We're not finished here."

"Oh, shut the fuck up you greasy-ass dick-weasel!" I screeched without slowing down. I just pointed up into the ring toward a shell-shocked Kuwabara, not giving Toguro a second look. "Kuwabara, you stay there and kick this asshole's—well, you get the idea. Fuck 'im up for me; can you do that?"

"Uh—I mean, that's the idea," he said, confusion etched in the lines on his brow. "But Keiko—!"

I ignored him, too, pointing then at Hiei and Kurama. "You two, stay here. They'll need backup if this gets ugly, Hiei, and Kurama, you're still in no shape to go anywhere, you understand?"

Hiei bared his teeth. "Meigo, this is—"

"Kei," Kurama said. "I do not think you—"

"And you, Yusuke." My finger swung toward him, shaped like an aiming gun. "You lead this team to victory and don't let up fighting for even a single second, do you hear me? I've got this handled. I promise a hundred times on my life that I've got this handled." When he didn't move or speak, I called above the roar of the impatient demons in the crowd, "Do you understand that you cannot afford to be distracted? That your life and the lives of everyone you love depends on being here, in the now, and not letting up for even a minute? Do you understand how just how damn important you are?"

He nodded once, sharply. "I get it."

"Are you sure, because—"

"I get it, I get it!" he said, wheeling back toward the ring. He pointed at the elder Toguro, then, with a finger far deadlier than mine. "You hear that, dick-weasel? If Keiko says she's got it handled, then she's got it handled! So you can shut your goddamn mouth and get back in that ring to fight, because—"

I didn't wait to hear what he'd say next. I had seen the fire in his eyes, and it was more than enough for me. As he shouted his challenge at Toguro, I turned and ran, sprinting back toward the stands and hauling myself back into them with a grunt and a yell for demons to get the hell out of my way or else get stepped on. I practically vaulted up the stands, demons yelping as I squashed fingers and toes under my shoes, and soon I neared where the rest of my friends were sitting.

Botan spotted me first, standing up and waving to get my attention. "Keiko! What's going on?" she called as I jumped over the last row of seats to stand beside them.

"We only heard some of it on the speakers," said Yukina. "Do you—"

"You three." I looked at Shizuru, Botan and Yukina in turns. "You up for a little adventure?"

"An adventure?" Shizuru said, brow shooting up.

"Now's not really the time for sightseeing, Keiko!" said Botan.

"I'm not talking about a guided tour," I said. "I'm—"

Shizuru drew in a sharp breath. "Oh," she said, looking me over with renewed interest. "I get it."

"Shizuru, what do you get?" said a thoroughly confused Yukina.

Shizuru took the cigarette from her mouth and pointed it at me. "You wanna mount up and rescue Atsuko," she said with one of her subtle smirks. "And you know where to go to do that, don't you?"

I held up the strand of carpet shag. "That's right."

But Botan had no idea what the fiber in my hand was supposed to mean, and planted her hands firmly upon her hips. "Keiko, but how do you—?"

"No time." A thumb over my shoulder. "I made Yusuke a promise to bring Atsuko back—"

"—and you always mean what you say," said Shizuru, taking a drag off her cigarette. "Well, kid. Count me in."

I beamed, turning my stare on Botan and Yukina. "And you two?" Specifically to Yukina I added, "You down for this? Because it's gonna get hairy."

Botan grinned, thrusting a fist into the air. "If you're rescuing Atsuko, then count me in! She took care of me when I was at my lowest, and I owe her at least that much." Her face spasmed. "But Yukina—"

Yukina shook her head, silencing our protests. "I will come, too," she said, soft voice unexpectedly hard. The stony texture faded when she added, "Although I do not know what I will be able to do to help."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Shizuru said. Dropping her cigarette, she stamped it out under her heel and tossed her hair. "Now let's go."

"Excellent," I said, heart picking up a fraction. "Excellent. Then—and I've always wanted to say this—OK, girl squad." I pointed skyward. "Assemble!"

The girls gave me a series of confused and vicariously embarrassed glances, but they obeyed, the four of us turning toward the stairs that would lead up out of the stands of onlookers and back toward the concessions area. We took the steps two at a time (except for Yukina, whose kimono made it harder to run) and booked it for the hidden door behind the concessions stand, slamming through it and running full tilt down the hall past the locker rooms. The cart of spilled water bottles was still there, lying crushed and messy beneath the fallen light fixture no one had bothered to clean up yet. I leapt clear over it, and in a group we rounded the corner that would lead us to the door outside.

A door blocked by a knot of no less than four demons.

They weren't enormous, as far as demons went. Two were furry, one had scales, and the last looked mostly human aside from the horns sprouting from his temples. I only caught a glimpse of them as we barreled toward the door, details of their anatomy captured in one frenetic glimpse.

"Sorry, girls," said the demon with the horns. "Can't let you—"

We didn't even slow down. Botan dropped her mostly-empty backpack to the ground and summoned her oar with a flick of her wrist and a crackle of energy, flying at them with a shriek. She turned at the last second, effectively clotheslining the demons with the length of her oar, and with a series of bellows the demons went down beneath her. She leapt back in an instant, dismissing and re-summoning her oar with another snap and crackle so she could brain one of them over the head with another bellow of fury. I, meanwhile, dropped my bag and wrestled free one of my knife bandoliers, throwing a volley at the nearest demon as Shizuru lit a cigarette and possessed the smoke with a burst of green spirit energy. She set about strangling one of them without a word, and soon the four demons lay in an unconscious heap upon the floor.

But Shizuru didn't seem happy at our success. As I recovered the knives I'd thrown, she barked, "Where's Yukina?"

Instantly Yukina's small, soft voice rang out from around the corner. "Coming!" she called, and then she appeared around the bend in the hallway, Botan's bag clutched to her chest. We waited for her to catch up, her breathing strangely labored, before stepping over the fallen demons and heading outdoors. As we passed through the doors, however, Shizuru stepped into place beside me, moving her cigarette to the corner of her mouth.

"You see it?" she asked.

"Yeah," I said. "I did."

As the door fell shut behind us, we both turned, glimpsing the demons one last time through the crack—or what was left of the demons, anyway. They'd begun to collapse in on themselves, bodies dissolving into pools of red thread that soon dispersed on an unseen wind. Shizuru and I shared a dark glance as the last of their bodies faded from view, trading unspoken assumptions without a word.

But we weren't the only ones to notice. "Wait!" Botan said. She stared past us at the door, eyes huge. "That thread. Is it more of those—?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

"So whoever's behind this was behind the other attack?" Yukina said.

"Where they trying to take one of us even then?" Botan said.

"Kid." Shizuru turned to me again. "Is this…?"

"Yeah. It's him." I grabbed the length of carpet fiber in my pocket, tracing the braided strands with a fingertip. "I know it is."

There could be no doubt, after what we'd just seen, but we didn't stop to talk about it. We walked forward, into the sunny afternoon and across the grass outside the stadium. Tobi waited right where I'd last seen him, sitting in his little open-air car as he fanned himself with his chauffer's hat. He shoved the hat back on his head when we all jumped into his cart, Shizuru barking at him to gun it, now, and take us back to Hotel Kubikukuri. Tobi obeyed with enthusiasm, sending us off like a shot over the bumpy roads leading back to the hotel. I sat on the back of the cart with Yukina, digging through my backpack for the bandoliers of knives and other weapons I'd packed into it that morning. Yukina watched this with interest, arms wound tight around Botan's bulging backpack. Would we need to drop Yukina off somewhere to keep her safe if this adventure of ours got more violent? Her willingness to help didn't mean she was suited for this kind of fight, after all…

Botan interrupted my train of thought. "My word, Keiko!" she said, craning back to look at my backpack of weapons. "How much were you able to cram into that bag? Is it bottomless?"

"Sure, why not? Just call it the TARDIS of backpacks!"

"The what?"

"Never mind!" As I strapped knives to my legs and slipped canisters of mace into my pockets, I said, "Yukina! What's in your bag? It was empty when Botan dropped it—"

"Not to interrupt, miss," Tobi called from the driver's seat, "but I'm afraid there are some nasty-looking reprobates in hot pursuit!"

I looked up, and Shizuru and Botan whipped around as Yukina gave a gasp of fright. Behind us, bumping along the rough road in their own cart, a half-dozen demons followed us at a distance that closed bit by bit, and fast. Four demons occupied the cart they had probably hijacked, while another wolf-like creature loped along beside it on foot; another demons, ape-like in form and in the fur covering its skin, swung from the trees lining the road, powerful arms easily chasing our band. They raised their voices in an intimidating bellow when they caught us looking, two of them shaking large clubs as they stood up and leaned out of the cart, grabbing onto the roof for purchase.

I snatched up a knife at once, but I hesitated before throwing it; I wouldn't be able to recover anything I lost during this drive, putting my long-distance weapons attacks at a clear disadvantage. Luckily I didn't have to hesitate for long, because Shizuru stood up and grabbed onto the bar holding up the cart's roof.

"What are you doing?" Botan yelled.

"Evening the odds," Shizuru said, and she swung herself over the roof and onto its broad expanse. Not too long later, a whip of green-tinged smoke lashed through the air, striking the demon swinging from the trees and sending him to the forest floor with a crash and a cry of pain.

"Hey—save some fun for the rest of us!" Botan cried, and she stood up, too. "Looks like that's my cue!"

I reached for her arm. "Botan, wait a—"

"Can't hear you, I'm flying!"

She had summoned her oar and zoomed off in the span of a breath, flying down the road back the way we'd come before leaping off and skidding along the pavement right in the path of the loping wolf-demon. He couldn't redirect himself in time, practically shoving his face into Botan's oar when she swung it at him like a blue-haired Babe Ruth. The resulting, sickening crack made me wince, but my revulsion only lasted until Yukina stood up, wobbling as Tobi hit a pothole and the cart gave a violent wobble. I cried her name and threw my arms around her waist, hoping she didn't go tumbling out of the cart, but she didn't sit back down even when I yelled at her to do just that. Instead she reached into her weirdly overstuffed backpack and took out a water bottle, of all things, which she uncapped and chunked as hard as she could into the road behind us.

It didn't go far; just a few meters, and mostly thanks to the moving cart, although it hit the ground with a terrific splash and a spray of bright liquid. As she stared after it with disappointment, something clicked inside my head.

"Yukina!" I screeched. "Can you freeze the water from far away?"

"I can try, but—"

"Just do it!"

Yukina's face screwed up. She lifted a hand, holding it with palm facing the bottle on the road—and then she gave a small, sharp cry, and something flashed bright, glacial blue. Just in time, too, because the enemy's cart ran over the bottle just as the spark rent the air. The screech of tires and a bellow of panic followed, and the cart twisted to the left hard enough to capsize the entire thing, the screech of metal on pavement horrific in the otherwise quiet forest. Soon they collided with the trees, coming to a stop and then vanishing from sight as Tobi rounded a bend in the road (one that made Yukina nearly topple over, if it hadn't been for my arms around her middle). A telltale burst of red fibers leapt into the air above where the cart had fallen, staining the blue sky the color of fresh lilac.

"Hey! You did it!" I yelled. "Yukina, did you see that? You did it!"

"I—I did do it!" She looked positively astonished even as a smile crossed her face. "I did it!"

But our elation was short-lived. Botan rejoined our group and Shizuru climbed back into the cart, and soon we found ourselves screeching to a halt in front of the hotel—before which waited another group of demons. I shouted a warning before the cart could come to a halt and tossed one of the five smoke grenades I'd bought with me to the island into their midst. Like a striking snake, Shizuru leapt from the cart just as it came to a stop, running headlong into the smoke so she could thread it full of her bright green energy. When the luminous green smoke cleared, the demons were all on the ground, Shizuru sitting squarely in the middle of the biggest demon's back.

"Teamwork makes the dream work," I quipped at her as we walked into the hotel—but before she could say something quippy in return, a cry of my name rang out across the hotel lobby.

It was easy to see why. The lobby was trashed, vases overturned and couches ripped to shreds, evidence that someone had come through with devastation on their mind. Otoha stood behind one of the desks, and when I ran over to her, I saw another five hotel workers hiding just behind her.

"Keiko!" Otoha repeated, relief dripping from every syllable. "Thank god you're here; there are demons everywhere, and they took—"

"Atsuko up to the casino?" I guessed.

"Wow—how'd you know?"

"Lucky guess," I said. "Can I get the key to that floor, please?"

"Wait, you can't go up there!" Otoha said, rounding the reception desk. "There are too many—"

But Botan just winked at her. "Hold down for the fort for us, would you, dear?"

"We promise to be careful," Yukina said.

"And we promise to save some fighting for you," said Shizuru with a smirk.

"Get everyone here to safety, OK?" I added with a wave at her hiding coworkers. "No telling how many more there are."

Otoha hesitated, but soon her expression cleared, and she gave me a resolute nod. "Right." Another moment's hesitation, but she threw her arms around me in a hug. In my ear she whispered, "Good luck, Keiko."

I couldn't help but hug her back and murmur, "You too."

Once Otoha surrendered the key that would unlock access to the fourteenth floor of the hotel, we moved for the elevators—and even though it would take a key to reach the casino, the elevators had still not been left unguarded. Two demons flanked the elevators, but they fell quickly under our combined attacks. We boarded the elevator car in silence, a momentary respite in the chaos as we took a moment to breathe. Indeed, our breath was just about the only sound as the car rose high into the hotel, carrying us closer and closer to Atsuko with every passing moment.

Shizuru broke the silence, eventually. "Yukina," she said, casting the ice apparition a dour glance. "Are you sure you want to be a part of this?"

"Yes, good question," agreed Botan. "We can stop by our floor, and you can go to the suite to—"

Yukina shook her head before she could finish. "No. I want to help."

It soured my stomach to think of putting Yukina in harm's way, but the ice in her typically warm eyes stopped me cold. "Fine," I said, shaking my head. "But hang back. Don't go rushing in on your own."

"You offer support and healing," Shizuru said with a hard look in Yukina's direction. "Botan and I are on the front lines. And as for Keiko—"

"Suppressing fire," I said, brandishing one of my throwing knives. "Don't worry. I know my strengths."

She gave a quick nod. "Right."

A deep breath. The numbers in the window above the doors climbed higher; we were only a few floors away, the elevator already slowing. "Our target is on the north side of the room, to our left," I said, eyes caught on the ascending numbers. "A door with a four of diamonds on it. Looks like a playing card. You remember playing, right Yukina?"

"I do," she said, voice the softest zephyr.

"Do I want to know how you know all of that?" Botan said with much less subtlety.

"No." My mouth quirked, but I forced the expression away. "No, you do not."

At last, the numbers reached 14. The carriage shuddered to a halt, a bell dinging to mark our arrival.

"Are you ready?" Shizuru said.

"Too late to back out now!" Botan said with chipper zeal, and the doors slid open without a sound.

Before us lay a long hallway, carpeted and richly appointed, but empty—aside from the two demons guarding the double doors on the hall's far end, that is. They noticed us just as we noticed them, but before the elevator doors could even finished opening, Botan and Shizuru had slipped between them and streaked down the hallway at a run. Shizuru's fist and Botan's oar made short work of the demons, so I waved Yukina ahead and walked with her toward our friends. Together we crouched low, Shizuru opening the doors just wide enough for her to angle a compact mirror (produced from a pocket in Botan's bag, natch) through the crack.

"A lot of 'em," she muttered to us. "We need cover. Keiko?"

I dutifully handed her a smoke grenade. She pulled the pin with her teeth and chucked it inside with a crack of her lightning fast hand; from inside we heard coughs and hacking, and Shizuru burst in like a lion chasing down a gazelle. Botan followed, darting inside with oar at the ready, battle cry on her lips. I grabbed Yukina's hand and hissed at her to hold her breath and keep low, dragging her through the concealing smoke to the bar I knew lay along the wall opposite the doors. We hid behind it, and when no demons popped over the top of the bar to menace us, I warily peeked over the bar's top to get the lay of the land.

The smoke had thinned somewhat, though it lay thicker over toward our left—and it was tinted a faintly glowing green. Shizuru had possessed it, by the looks of it, and was hunting down demons left and right. Good. Botan battled a few demons to our right, feinting and dodging and hitting them when their backs were turned. She almost danced when she fought, nimble on her toes with lightning reflexes, and for a second I just stared at her fight in abject awe. Her training with Hiei had paid off, that's for sure.

But my staring was the opposite of wise, because soon a demon stumbled out of Shizuru's cloud of smoke and spotted me, darting in our direction with a bellowed battle cry. I ducked behind the bar and grabbed the hose attached to the sink, flipping on the faucet so a gush of cold water could rocket out of the hose. This I aimed at the demon as he neared, drenching his sputtering face in an unexpected spray.

"Yukina!" I said. "Now!"

She popped up beside me with hand outstretched, and in a snap the water on the demon froze solid. It wasn't enough water to immobilize him, but he immediately began to shake from cold, snarling and slapping at the ice on his skin to break it up. That distraction was all I needed, though; I leapt over the bar feet-first, kicking him squarely in the face so hard, he immediately crumpled to the floor. I kicked him again for good measure, and when I turned to Yukina with a grin, I saw her eyes wide with horror.

"Keiko, NO!" she cried.

But it was too late. I turned as fast as I could, but the advancing demon—who had taken advantage of my distraction just as I'd take advantage of his ally—slugged me in the face. I staggered back against the bar, wood colliding painfully with my spine, and slid to the floor, blood from a split lip filling my mouth at once. A jet of water shot over the bar a second later, however, and then the water froze atop the demon's skin. He hissed and sputtered, and although it took everything I had, I still managed to draw a knife and throw it with force straight into his forehead. He collapsed after that, and he didn't move.

"Good show, Keiko! Yukina!" Botan called. She stood over a trio of fallen demons some distance away, oar planted in the middle of one of their stomachs, her foot on another demon's chest. "I'd say we're going a bang-up job, now aren't we?"

I wiped my lip on the back of my arm. "For the most part, but—Botan, move!"

Like something from a horror movie, a demon with curling horns and bloodshot eyes had emerged from behind a nearby slot machine, rushing at Botan from behind without a sound. She tried to turn, just as I had, but our fate was the same: The demon hit her, pile-driving a fist into her gut and sending her flying backward. She hit a craps table with a thud, her head striking its edge with a sickening, hollow sound, and then she crumpled.

She didn't move, after that.

"Botan!" I screamed—but before I could go to her, that silent, horned demon with the bloodshot eyes advanced on me. I backpedaled, darting to the side to lure him away from Yukina, and my ploy worked. He pursued me through the casino, over to the roulette and poker tables, where I stood with my back against a slot machine until he drew close. Heart in my mouth, I pulled a canister of mace from my pocket, waiting until the demon drew disconcertingly close to unload a stream of toxicity into his already bloodshot eyes.

Too bad for me, he barely reacted. I dodged under his reaching arm, but he managed to hook a claw into the back of my hoodie and trip me up, sending me crashing to the floor, where I scrambled away as fast as I could. He struck out with his foot, though, knocking my legs out from under my hips, and I found myself on my back, staring up at him as he raised a hand to strike. But then he gasped, fanged mouth open wide—and the demon fell to his knees, dead, Botan's glowing hand embedded in his back.

Botan's third eye—brilliant, violent violet eye—sat wide open and staring upon her forehead.

As I stared, she pulled her arm free with a wet pop, limb coated to the elbow in bright blue blood. Her energy glowed a shade of cheerful bubblegum at odds with the lopsided smile on her mouth and unhinged glint in her eye, power crackling with electric arcs of pure force. Blood streamed from a cut on her forehead, and as our gazes locked, I feared for a moment that she might attack me, too… but she didn't. The sounds of Shizuru's fight cut the stillness, and her head lifted as she focused on the lullaby of battle.

Then, slowly, she turned away, stalking off into the casino in search of greater prey.

I ran back to the bar after that, hunkering down behind it with Yukina, who had clasped her hands over her mouth in horror at the sight of Botan's transformation. Neither of us said a word. We only peered around the edge of the bar as the smoke clouding around Shizuru began to thin, and soon Shizuru herself emerged from the miasma. Keeping low, she ran over to us and likewise hid behind the bar, watching around the corner as Botan faced off against the handful of demons that still remained. Many coated the floor, slashes across their chests and backs evidence of just how many Shizuru had managed to take out.

But Shizuru did not appear thrilled about these victories. Jerking a thumb toward Botan, she muttered, "Is it just me, or does this seem like a monkey wrench in our rescue operation?"

"What is a monkey wrench?" Yukina whispered.

"A problem," I said eyes locked on Botan as she threw back her head and cackled, blood-drenched hands lifted skyward. "It's definitely, definitely a problem."

Watching Botan fight was as much thrilling as it was stomach-churning. She hadn't displayed nearly as much technique when I saw her lose control during the Saint Beast arc, here her strikes more pointed, methodical, precise—like Hiei when he fights, each swing of the blade (or in her case, her hand) a pinpoint accurate exercise in deadly force. She coated her hand in her bright pink energy and used her own body as her weapon, curved blades of pure energy arcing off of splayed fingers like the claws of a rabid panther. She would stand stock-still and wait for an opponent to rush at her before whirling to the side with a flag of bright blue hair, slashing at their exposed back with a grin and a vicious, mocking laugh. No trace of my bubbly friend remained, every action engineered for maximum bloodshed. I hadn't seen Hiei fight too many times, but even I could read the movement she'd taught her in every step, every slash—and when she felled all opponents but one, and that last demon ran from her with a cry of terror, I saw Hiei's dogged determination to win at all costs in the way she stalked after the demon, grinning all the while, intent on the kill.

A chill coursed through me at the sight. No wonder Botan hadn't wanted to talk to Yukina about the times she got like this…

Shizuru squeezed my elbow, shaking me from my train of thought. "Distract her," she whispered, and as Botan put her back to us in pursuit of her prey, Shizuru dashed from our spot behind the bar and out of sight behind a slot machine.

I took a deep breath, and I stepped out from behind the bar, too.

Botan's prey stumbled and fell as she stalked him across the casino, crawling away from her on his back, pleading for her to stay away, to not come any closer. It took courage for me to call out her name, but I did it, hands held up before me to show I didn't mean her any harm. She turned my way slowly, inch by inch, looking at me from the corner of one eye—well, two eyes. Her evil eye had shifted in its socket, staring at me with even more intensity than her lovely magenta eye. It made my stomach churn, but somehow I held my gaze steady, smiling at her as best I could.

"Hey, girl. It's all right," I said, nodding at the demon on the floor. "He's done. He's down for the count, OK? So you can relax now."

Botan didn't like being told to do anything, it seemed, because she whirled on me with a flash of violet, pink and blue. She bared her teeth at me, unintelligible words hissing between them—but then she staggered, clutching her head with both pink-glowing hands.

"Keiko—no, not Keiko!" she groaned, head thrashing this way and that inside her grip. She managed to look at me from between her fingers, lone visible eye full of grief and warning. "Keiko, you have to run, you have to—"

Shizuru knew she wouldn't get another chance, and she struck with all the quickness of a snake, streaking into view so she could land a chop on the back of Botan's exposed neck. Botan's eyes unfocused at once, grim reaper falling to her knees with a gasp and the faintest of smiles on her face. I released a breath I hadn't known I'd been holding, shooting Shizuru a grateful smile.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it." She turned, imperious face aimed at the final demon on the floor. "Now, as for you…"

He ran, lickety-split. I expected Shizuru to give chase, but she didn't. She pulled her cigarettes from her carton and lit up, watching him head for the casino exit in motionless silence.

"Should we let him go?" I said, standing beside her. "He could warn—"

She shrugged. "Something tells me he won't get far."

True to her word, it wasn't long before the demon tripped, and he did not get up again. His body turned to red thread before our eyes, limbs and torso and face unspooling into pools of crimson fiber that blended with the red carpet and disappeared. It wasn't gory, but somehow the image still came across as grisly, like we'd seen something unspeakably violent and indescribably horrific. Yukina came over to us just in time to see it, face paling to the color of spoiled milk as she shrank into my side, hiding her face behind her hands. I put an arm around her and rubbed her back as Shizuru hefted Botan's limo body over her shoulder.

"Let's just hope there aren't too many more," Shizuru said, patting Botan's leg. "Now lead the way, Keiko."

On the casino's far wall lay the doors styled like playing cards, all polished wood embossed with golden suits and numbers. We bypassed the three of hearts, king of clubs and ten of diamonds in favor of the four of diamonds. I wondered if we'd need to break it down, but it opened softly enough under my hand, revealing the long hallway beyond lined with so many other, unmarked doors. I shivered as the door fell shut at our backs, our feet whispering and clicking on the hardwood floor like the sounds of distant whispering. Shizuru looked at the hallway with interest, drifting to the side to grasp one door's golden handle.

"Wait." It was a command, not a request, and it made Shizuru's eyebrow shoot skyward. "Don't look in there."

"Why?"

"I don't know." And this was true, as was, "But it's not a good idea."

"Cryptic," Shizuru observed.

I didn't reply. I just pointed forward. "The door on the end in our best bet, anyway."

Perhaps it was my tone that convinced Shizuru not to argue. Whatever the case, she didn't argue. She led the way down the hall in silence, bypassing the other doors without a second glance in favor of the lone door at the hall's opposite end. She pressed her ear to it, but shook her head after a moment's time. We waited in tense silence while she used Botan's compact mirror to check inside, quietly shutting the door after she finished her assessment.

"The red lizard guy is in there," she said, stowing the mirror inside Botan's pocket. "No one else."

"Where?"

"Guarding a door; far left side, middle of the wall." A grim smile cut her mouth. "No blind spots. I'll have to rush him."

"Want me to throw a grenade first?"

"No." She shook her head and lowered Botan to the floor. "Faster my way."

No more preamble; she burst inside like a silent bird of prey, thud of her footfalls muffled as she sprinted toward the spot where Red lay waiting. He only had enough time for a single squawk of "Help!" before there came a thud, silencing him mid-cry. When Yukina and I peeked inside, we found Shizuru standing over him as he groaned, delirious from a strike to the head, the pair of them situated just beside a plain wooden door that nearly blended with the paneled wall. Although Yukina smiled, I could only curse, hefting Botan in a fireman's carry and trotting over to Shizuru.

The carpet beneath my feet made running tough, I noticed. Its thick, plush pile enveloped my feet nearly to the ankles—and it was, of course, a perfect match to the fiber in my pocket.

Still, I couldn't celebrate being right for long. "They'll have heard that, if anyone's nearby," I said as we joined Shizuru by the door. "Let's act fast."

"Roger that," Shizuru said, and without another word, she kicked down the door with no more effort than most people need to punch through tissue paper. The terrific crash almost managed to echo despite the thick carpet on the ground, and as we burst inside, Shizuru said, "Where the hell is Atsuko, huh?"

But no one replied, because the only ones present were Blue and Purple, the lizards from the hostage video—and they were passed out in a heap in the center of the floor.

We looked down at them in confused silence for a time. The room wasn't huge, constituting just a small nook with a few windows on the far wall and a heavy rack of video equipment on another. Across the video equipment sat a familiar chair dripping with ropes, but this was empty. I stalked over to it, feet sinking into the red and gold carpet with every step, as Shizuru headed for the unconscious demons and grabbed the Purple one by the throat. When he didn't rouse, she stalked outside and grabbed Red, dragging him into the room for an interrogation.

"Hey, hey! Asshole!" she yelled into his face. "What'd you do with her, huh?"

He blinked, yellow eyes bleary and confused. "Huh—who?"

I ignored the pair of them, scouring the room for clues. The chair was empty, and aside from the two unconscious lizards, there weren't any signs of a struggle. None of the video equipment had been disturbed; even the video camera on a tripod across from the chair appeared intact. So no fighting, no big battle… had anything been taken or stolen? None of the AV equipment appeared disturbed or missing; no conspicuous empty spots appeared on the rack, at least. Frustrated, I sat down in the hostage chair, gripping the bare armrests with each hand. Just where the hell had—

My fingers traced whorls in the armrest's wood grain.

Wait. The armrests were bare?

I shot out of the chair, spinning to face it with a scowl. Hadn't Atsuko been tied up with rope? There wasn't any rope on the chair, so—

A breeze drifted across my neck.

"Atsuko. The woman you kidnapped, genius." Shizuru gave him a bone-rattling shake, teeth grit and bared. "Where the hell is she?"

"How should I know?" he said, speech slurred but coherent. "I was guarding the door!"

"Shizuru—look!"

One of the windows—the one closest to the heavy metal rack of AV equipment—stood open a crack, just wide enough for a bit of rope to pass through. Which was convenient, because rope had been knotted around a rod on the AV rack, trailing from it and out the window to whatever lay below. Shizuru and I exchanged a look before rushing in unison for the window, pushing it open wide so we could stick out our heads and look straight down. I thought I'd get hit with a wave of vertigo (or at least some unwelcome l'appel du vide) but I didn't. Another wing of the hotel lay just a story or two below us, drop not nearly as dizzying as expected.

It was still quite a drop for Atsuko, though, who clung to a knotted length of rope at least fifteen feet off the ground, dangling out of the window like a goddamn circus performer.

"Atsuko?" I said, hardly daring to believe my eyes. "What are you doing?"

She looked up and grinned. "Oh, hey Keiko!" she said, lifting a few fingers in a wave—though she did not dare to let go of the rope. "What brings you here?"

"You do, you absolute—" The wind stripped by; Atsuko gave a little shriek as the rope swayed beneath her. "Ugh, don't move, you'll fall!"

She didn't move, for once obeying common sense, waiting for Shizuru and me to haul her up so she could clamber back over the windowsill and onto solid ground. Huffing and puffing, she leaned against the wall and sighed, relief written all over her face.

"Glad to see you, Atsuko," Shizuru said, deadpan as always.

"You should be—but wait." Atsuko eyed us in confusion. "Why are you even here?"

My jaw dropped. "To rescue you, of course!"

But Atsuko's eyes screwed up. "Wait. You thought I needed rescuing?" She threw up her hands with a curse. "Who am I, some damsel in distress?"

While I tried to stave off a coronary episode, Shizuru asked, "How did you even get out of that chair?"

Atsuko's chest puffed with pride. "I pretended to be knocked out and got the ropes off while their backs were turned, and then I kicked their asses before they could even—Keiko? Are you OK?"

Call me rude for interrupting, but during Atsuko's explanation, I had begun to laugh.

It wasn't a laugh of humor. My busted lip hurt, my head hurt from stress, every limb felt as stiff and hard as brass—and the grand irony was that I hadn't even needed to come here in the first place. Atsuko had managed to escape on her own. My grandstanding, my mad rush to get here, all the incriminating things I'd said in front of Shizuru, Botan, Yukina—it had all been for nothing.

The only thing I could do was laugh.

No one spoke as I giggled and wandered back over to Atsuko's abandoned hostage chair. No one spoke as I buried my head in my hands and guffawed, chortling against my palms as tears leaked from the corner of my eye. Was I laughing or crying? It was hard for even me to say, but as I slumped backward into the chair, I lifted an arm to drape it across my eyes—but beneath its length, I spotted the camera. The video camera that had telegraphed Atsuko's suffering for the world to see. The one that had caused all this trouble in the first place, and had prompted me to enter the ring, which prompted the elder Toguro brother to out me in front of everyone.

The laughter in my throat dried up.

Instead, something in my chest froze solid, a cold ball of iron that made it almost impossible to breathe. Before I could wonder at it, I was on my feet, inspecting the video camera with questing fingers and critical eyes that did not feel like my own.

"Keiko," Shizuru said. "What are you—?"

"I'm sending a message," I replied just as my fingers found the REC button. Smacking the side of it a few times, I said, "Hey. Hey. Is this thing on?"

Something in the camera's innards whirred. A red light blinked on. A watching eye, staring at me from a distance—but I knew to whom that eye belonged. I knew that he was watching.

And just like that, the cold ball in my chest thawed, collapsing into a boiling pit of fury.

I jammed my hand into my pocket and yanked out the carpet fiber, that telltale strand of red and gold that had led me to this place. I held it up, shoving it at the camera lens with a growl and a bitter grin.

"Hiruko," I said, spitting his name like it tasted foul. "I know you're behind this, you spineless coward." Putting the fiber away, I leaned in close, hoping he could read the fury, the hate, the sheer contempt in the light of my very eyes. "You told me not to let fate control me—and, well, guess what? I'm not going to let you control me, either." Grasping the camera in both hands, I gave it a shake, wishing it was his goddamn neck, instead. "You think you found yourself a pawn? You really think it doesn't matter who you picked? Think again." I held the camera up, high as I could. "Turns out, you picked the wrong damn girl."

With that, I smashed the camera. I smashed it onto the floor, but the red light didn't go out. So I kicked it, grinding my heel into the lens until glass shattered, grabbing the jutting viewfinder and ripping it back until it cracked and broke. But the red light did not go out, and so I pulled out a knife and jammed it into the camera's whirring heart. It stuttered for a second, trying in vain to run—but soon the whirring slowed, and the red light flickered, and the camera died at last.

No one said anything, and silence continued to reign as I shouldered Botan and stalked out of the room, back the way we'd come.


The elevator ride downstairs was quiet, and I felt eyes on me the whole time. Watching, assessing, measuring. Waiting to see if I would explain myself.

But I didn't.

It wasn't time.

Not yet, anyway.

When we reached the hotel lobby, elevator doors opening with a ding, Koto's voice cut the heavy silence. Static crackled as she spoke, tinny radio connection roughening her smooth tones. Before we could even step off the elevator, she fell quiet, volume knob turned down until only silence remained. Otoha skidded around a corner a second later, staring at me with horror in her eyes. For a moment I wondered if she'd seen my broadcast, somehow—but then Shizuru stepped forward, and Otoha's eyes moved with her.

"What?" Shizuru said. "Am I famous or something?"

Otoha drew in a hard breath. "Shizuru… you're related to Kuwabara, aren't you? Kuwabara of Team Urameshi?" she asked.

"Yeah. What about it?" came Shizuru's curt reply. "He go and lose his match or something?"

Otoha winced. "No. No, he won it. But then…"

"But then what?"

Otoha did not reply. She only gestured for us to follow. Our feet clacked over the cold marble floor, making it sound like a dozen walking feet instead of five. When we rounded the corner, we found a dozen or so hotel employees gathered around the front reception desk, a small portable radio on the counter in their center. They all stared at Shizuru, too, and when Otoha gave a sharp nod, one of them reached out to turn the volume up.

I braced myself.

I knew what was coming, even if Shizuru didn't.

"—unprecedented occurrence in the history of this tournament!" Koto shrieked through the radio, voice a knife of ear-splitting sound. "For a combatant to attack a fighter on the sidelines after that fighter has won a match is just unheard of! Because what's the point of killing a teammate once they're done?"

The cigarette fell from Shizuru's mouth, lying smoldering upon the floor.

"No," she whispered.

"Yes, that's right, people!" Koto replied. "Toguro broke from his match from Urameshi Yusuke to target one of his teammates, and he killed Kuwabara Kazuma in cold blood!"

She stared forward at the radio, not moving an inch as Koto relayed these events again and again, reveling in her narration no matter who it hurt. My heart stuttered in my chest, beating a quick tempo against the drumskin of my chest. This was how canon should go—Toguro targeting Kuwabara, but Kuwabara living, pretending to die to give Yusuke the kick in the pants he needed to win, fueling him with anger and grief to new and more powerful heights. But Shizuru didn't know that, and to watch her stand there in horrified, stunned silence filled my throat with painful sting.

The sting intensified when Shizuru slowly turned to face me. Her eyes searched my face, and I tried my best to keep it neutral—but this was not the right decision, and just what Shizuru was looking for.

"You don't look surprised," Shizuru said.

I said nothing.

Shizuru repeated, "You don't look surprised." She took one step in my direction, quick beneath the shrill of Koto's speech. "Give it to me straight, Keiko. Is my brother dead? Because even if you saw this coming, and even if you're quite the little actress, even you couldn't keep from crying if he died. But you're not crying." Her head dipped, chin brushing her necktie, eyes hooded and as intense as a striking match. "So give it to me straight: Is my brother dead, or isn't he?"

I didn't speak. Could I tell her? Should I tell her? She knew too much already, but was this crossing a line? While Yukina looked at me with sudden, disordered hope, Shizuru's face betrayed nothing—but then her eye twitched, mouth thinning just a little, eyes swimming the barest bit.

My heart cracked, and the words poured forth.

"No." The syllable came out in a whisper, barely even audible—but still, the hotel staff began to whisper amongst themselves. "He's not dead."

Otoha stepped forward, thrown. "But the radio—?"

"Is wrong, if the future stays on course," I told her. To Shizuru I said, voice finally gaining strength: "Toguro targeted your brother to motivate Yusuke. To make him angry, so he can access more of his power, to give Toguro the fight of a lifetime he so desperately seeks. And the ploy will work." A smile tasting of tears and ozone crossed my mouth, but I did not cry. "Seeing his friend fall, Yusuke is going to eclipse all possible expectations and rise to a height of power no one suspects. But Kuwabara is only playing dead. Or at least, that's how this should go." My chin lowered, doubt finally breaking through. "But so much has changed today, that I…"

"So Yusuke needs to think my brother is dead to win?" Shizuru cut in, brusque as a brick through a window.

I nodded. "Yeah. He does."

Shizuru said nothing, for a time. She pivoted back toward the radio, hands braced on the reception desk on either side of Koto's screaming voice.

"We can't have you ruining everything with your terrible poker face," she said with deadpan composure, not looking at me. "We'll have to wait to head back."

My heart beat harder, disbelief swimming to the surface. "But don't you want to check if your brother—?"

"No," she cut in, sharp as a blade. "Can't risk it, if what you say is true. And I believe it is." Her hands clenched into hard fists, but I saw the telltale tremble in her shoulders. "You seem to believe what you're saying, too." Her voice dropped, so low I almost couldn't hear it. "I just hope that for my brother's sake, you're right."

I stared at her in silence, silence only broken when Yukina's hand alit upon my elbow. She peered sweetly up into my face, her crimson eyes clouded with doubt and curiosity.

"Keiko," she said. "How do you know all of this?"

"Can you see the future or something?" Atsuko asked.

"It's a long story." I shook them both away, heading in the other direction across the lobby. "Now's not the time."

"But—"

"Leave her be, Yukina," Shizuru said. "Just… leave her be."

I didn't look back to see if anyone tried to follow me. I ignored even Otoha's concerned staring, heading for the phone vestibule so I could fold myself into a dark phone booth and curl up on its hard bench. I picked up the phone, finger hovering over the dial—but then I stopped.

What would I even say to Kagome and Minato now? That I was scared? That I had fucked up? That this was all a mess, and I needed to hear their voices? Because it was all true, but what would saying it to them achieve?

Nothing.

It wouldn't change a damn thing.

I put the phone back on the hook. I pulled my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around them.

There, in the quiet dark, I waited—alone.


I didn't feel any better by the time Otoha came to collect me. Still, I was glad for the smile on her face when she opened up the phone booth, helping me off the bench with an outstretched hand.

"Hey," she said. "Shizuru sent me." As I stretched my numb legs, she planted a hand on her hip. "I have no idea what's going on, and you've gotta tell me about it when the dust settles—but good luck, in the meantime."

"Thanks." A pause. "I'll need it."

Otoha frowned at whatever she saw on my face. "Are you OK?"

I braved a smile. "I'm fine. I'm just…" A sigh. "Nothing. Never mind." I walked past her, not meeting her eyes. "Let's go."

We found Shizuru and Yukina almost exactly where I'd left them, although now they crouched on either side of Botan's still-sleeping form. Yukina's glowing hands hovered over her temples while Atsuko stood off to one side, drinking from a bottle of rum someone from the hotel had no doubt supplied her. Soon Botan began to murmur, blinking as Yukina's healing powers took effect.

Over the top of Botan's head, Shizuru stared at me, and somehow I didn't shy away from her gaze—although it took every ounce of my nerves not to stare at the floor, instead.

"Yusuke's gearing up for the final strike," Shizuru said when I got close. Neutral dispassion colored each word, no trace of negativity leaching through—which made me wonder what she must be feeling, to remain so pokerfaced. "You were right. What Toguro did actually brought the fight out in our team captain."

"Oh." I hesitated. "That's… something."

Yukina looked briefly up at me, but when Botan moaned, she placed a hand on Botan's cheek. "Botan. Botan, can you hear me?

"Wha…?" Her eyes finally managed to stay open with a flutter of dark lash. "Where am I?"

"Sorry," Shizuru said with good-natured insouciance. "Had to put you to sleep for a bit. You got a little…"

That really woke Botan up, eyes flying open as her hand crept to her cheek. "Oh no!"

"It's all right," Yukina said in her softest, most soothing tone of voice. "You didn't hurt anyone. In fact, you defended us against many demons. We owe our safety to you."

Her hand drifted from her face, although a hectic blush still stained her cheeks. "Well, that does make me feel a little better…"

"Don't get used to it," Shizuru said. "Yusuke's fighting Toguro now."

"He's what?!" I any sleep had remained in Botan's eyes, it fled as she bolted to her feet, only staggering a little against the reception desk. "Then let's go!" She paused, however, to look around and ask, "Wait, but did we—"

"Hey, sleepyhead," Atsuko said, walking over with a bit of her usual drunken swagger. "How ya feeling?"

Botan leapt off the desk to throw her arms around Atsuko's neck. "Atsuko!" she crowed, beaming and nearly crying at the same time. "Thank our lucky stars we got to you in time!"

"Me, too," Atsuko said as Botan pulled away. "Not that I needed the help."

"Eh?"

Shizuru cut in with a quick shake of her head. "No time. We gotta go, and fast."

I waved by to Otoha, who mouthed another 'good luck' at me as she and the other hotel workers escorted us to the front doors. Tobi waited right where we'd left him with his car, and he looked more than a little relieved when he saw us come out. The kid didn't even question it when Shizuru told him to take us right back to the stadium, gunning the engine with gusto and steering us back to the site of the finals without complaint. Soon the roar of the crowd drifted through the trees, murmuring like waves crashing against the shore—but softer than before, as if only half the demons as before stood in the stands to cheer.

And perhaps they did, if canon held true here, too.

"Would you like to go back to the service entrance, miss?" he said when we neared the stadium.

"No time!" Shizuru said. "Head for the hole in the stadium wall, pronto!"

Tobi obeyed, skidding to a halt in front of the stadium and the section of wall Hiei's Black Dragon had torn to pieces. Demons clustered around the hole nearly twenty demons deep, but when we hopped off the cart and ran toward them at a sprint, one of them elbowed another, steeping aside with a look of fear on his bat-face. Others followed suit, parting before us like the sea before Moses—because Shizuru's infamy preceded her, I guessed. In no time we'd swum our way to the front of the crowd, standing on broken concrete above a field of rubble, with a bird's eye view of the arena below.

Or what was left of it, anyway. The arena had once more been reduced to rubble, multiple craters cutting deep into the flat plain in the center of the stadium. Tumbled stone and rebar ringed the figures in the arena's center like the battlements of a ragged castle, dark and jutting and eyetooth sharp. The stands had cleared out, only a ragged remnant of the earlier crowd left to watch this final match, the majority of them vaporized on contact by Toguro's true power or fled into the island's forest to escape his wrath. But I barely looked at the missing crowds and half-full stands, because in the middle of the arena stood two figures. One loomed huge and tall and broad, skin warped with grotesque mutations jutting from his arms and shoulders, muscles stacked upon muscles in an unnatural and disquieting show of demonic strength. And the other…

"Yusuke," I breathed, looking at the other, smaller figure. He looked so tiny beside Toguro, one hand raised and shaped like a gun, staring Toguro down without blinking, face in profile showing focus unbreakable. "Oh, Yusuke…"

"Yusuke!" Botan cried as light began to gather at his fingertip. The blue light grew and grew, soon as tall as Yusuke himself, great sphere of crackling blue lightning so bright I had to shield my eyes from its radiance. "Yusuke, Yusuke!"

"GET 'EM SON!" Atsuko screamed, bottle of rum held high. "FUCKIN' KILL 'EM FOR ME, KIDDO!"

Yusuke didn't turn, but at the sound of his mother's voice, I swear the faintest of smiles colored the blue reflecting so brightly in his eyes—and then, as if answering Atsuko's call, the light on his fingertip grew brighter still. Enormous wings of light erupted from his back, body limned in the radiant glow of his spiritual energy. My eyes couldn't stand the sight, squeezing shut on reflex, but through my lids I still saw the glow of that unearthly light.

I knew Yusuke would win even before he shouted "SPIRIT GUN!" and pulled the trigger. I didn't have to watch to know that the light streaked toward Toguro with all the swiftness of storm-fed lightning. I didn't have to open my eyes to know that Toguro stood no chance, his power shattering beneath the onslaught of Yusuke's energy, muscles fraying and body collapsing under the force of that devastating blast. It came as no surprise when the watching demons fell silent, the slap of the referee's footsteps on the ground ringing out in the sudden and intense quiet as she ran to investigate. Her gasp echoed over the loudspeakers at what she found in the smoking crater where he lay, but then she cleared her throat.

I knew what she'd say even before she cried out, "Urameshi Yusuke is the winner—and the winner of the Dark Tournament!"

I opened my eyes as the demons began to roar their approval, apparently having undergone a change of heart about who to root for. Yusuke swayed where he stood before falling to his knees—and then a figure in white emerged from behind a pile of rubble, and Kuwabara ran to his friend across the battlefield.

I fell to my knees as Shizuru gasped, running forward and careening down the pile of rubble at our feet toward her brother—her brother who was alive, just as I'd promise, canon holding true once again. Botan, Atsuko and Yukina followed after her, leaving me behind to press my knuckles to my mouth, a sob choking free from between my trembling lips. Eyes filled with tears, I watched from a distance as Yusuke did a double-take at Kuwabara, then launched forward to throw an infuriated punch. The pair began to tussle, trading headlocks and dead-legs and slugs, Yusuke looking livid—but then his anger broke, turning into a grin that lit his eyes from inside out.

His best friend had, in his eyes, risen from the grave. Turnabout was fair play, considering what Yusuke's temporary death had done to Kuwabara so many months before.

Another sob wrenched free of my chest, but I forced it back down again.

We'd won—we'd won!

Just as there was no crying in baseball, so too were tears not allowed at the Dark Tournament.

It took a minute, but eventually I scraped myself off of the pavement and moved forward, following the others down to our friends standing at the center of the stadium. Demons continued to celebrate, filling the air with their calls of jubilation, of survival—and infectious sound, one that soon brought a smile to my face. I reached the others just as Yusuke spotted Atsuko, looking up from the headlock he had on Kuwabara with a lazy grin.

"Hey, Mom. 'Bout time you showed up," he said, but his smile grew more serious when he asked, "You OK?"

"Right as rain, winner," she said with a wink, and then she laughed. "My son, the winner! We'll be toasting you tonight, that's for sure!" Her lopsided grin grew teasing as she gestured at the stadium. "But what'd ya have to go and blow the whole place up for? It's in even worse shape than when I got abducted!"

Yusuke grinned, too, the familial resemblance never more apparent than in that moment. "Guess I thought we needed to redecorate this ugly place, y'know?"

"If fighting doesn't pan out, you've got a future in interior design, huh?" Atsuko said.

"Looks like it, Mom."

Shizuru stepped forward to slap Yusuke on the back. "Congrats, boys. Somehow you won without my help." Her smile faded when she glared at her brother. "As for you, Kazuma. You gave me quite a scare."

"Urp!" he backpedaled, hands raised in his defense. "It was necessary, I swear!"

Her glare intensified. "You're saying giving me a heart attack was necessary?"

"Well, if it was for the greater good—"

"Keiko."

I knew that voice. Toward it I turned, heart leaping into my mouth, the place it had leapt so many times lately. It leapt nearly free of my body when I found him standing only a handful of paces away, his brown eyes locked on my face beneath the stark tattoo on his forehead. Somehow, even with a pacifier in his mouth, Koenma's adult face managed to strike me silent, feeling small and insignificant beneath the pressure of his gaze. Guy was practically a god, after all, even if I didn't respect him whatsoever. Around us, our friends' celebrations ceased, eyes falling upon us like stones.

I was back in that spotlight again, with nowhere left to run.

Koenma didn't waste time, tossing his head with a flutter of his silken brown hair. "The elder of Toguro brothers had much to say during his fight with Kuwabara," he said.

When he didn't continue, all I said was, "Did he?"

"Yes." Koenma's voice rang clear and loud despite the noisy demons in the stands. "He told us that you are not the normal little girl we think you are. That you know too much, and that powers higher than we can imagine have known who you are for years. He asked us what secrets you hide. What lies you tell." Here his eyes turned hard, jasper set in stony skin. "And that a man named Hiruko, close confidante of Sakyo, told him all about you."

"No," I breathed—but it wasn't a denial, even if Koenma took it as such.

"I'm afraid he had no reason to lie," he said, not understanding the horror in my eyes. "Or at least, I have no reason to doubt him. Not after what I've seen." He gestured at the world, at me, at my friends. "You know I've been keeping an eye on you for some time. I admit, while Toguro is no doubt a liar, the things he had to say rang too true to discount outright. So I will ask you this once, and only once." Drawing himself up, every inch the demigod he most assuredly was, Koenma's voice rose to match the tenor of his unflinching eyes, demanding: "Yukimura Keiko. Who are you, exactly? And who, pray tell, is Hiruko?"

The spotlight of their eyes burned against my skin, and although the demons of the crowd still cheered, their cries fell away to a distant roar. The hottest scrutiny I had ever endured threatened to sear me from outside in, and at once I felt like the child I had been back in my first audition, full of fear and feeling like some insignificant bug lost in the infinite clamor of the cold and uncaring world—but then a sharp clap cut the quiet, two hands striking against each other with the sound of a lightning strike. Another clap followed, and then one more, and the spotlight's heat left my skin as my friends (if they still felt that way about me) turned as one to face the noise.

It was him, of course. His presence felt as inevitable as Yusuke's victory, as menacing as Toguro in the middle of the ring, as commanding as Koenma at his grandest and most commanding. He stood upon a fractured remnant of the fighting ring only a dozen feet from where I stood, staring down at us through electric eyes the color of a flame's burning heart. He stopped clapping when our eyes clashed, stowing his hands inside the sleeves of his crimson garment and out of sight, smiling as brightly as the first time I'd laid eyes on his accursed face.

"Finally, someone asks her the right questions," Hiruko said, looking pleased as much. "Who is she, actually? It's a good question indeed. And as for your other question—I am Hiruko." He dipped a bow, smile growing wider still. "It's nice to meet you all. Keiko here has told me so much!"

I didn't dare look behind me, at any of my friends. I stayed stock still, eyes locked on Hiruko as Koenma huffed and said, "Fine. So you're Hiruko. But who—"

Hiruko ignored him. He only had eyes for me, glittering and scorching and cold all at the same time, smile present only in his lips. "You've done a wonderful job, dear, at creating the chaos I requested. Just perfectly, really. I couldn't be more proud of you."

"I haven't done shit for you," I spat, words bursting free as if dragged from the surf by the fishhook lodged in Hiruko's ear. "In case you haven't noticed, I've played Keiko's role to the note, to the letter, which is the opposite of what you asked."

But his smile turned the color of pity. "The opposite of what I asked isn't necessarily the opposite of what I wanted, sweet girl," he said, as if explaining the truth of the world to a child. "You are, after all, a contrarian. You always do the opposite of what people say. You're stubborn like that. It's one of your most endearing qualities, but I'm afraid it makes you easy to manipulate."

"Fuck you!" I roared, the scream ripping from my lungs unbidden. "Just—just fuck off already! I played her role! I followed canon! I did what I was supposed to do!"

"Did you, though?" he said, twittering still. "Because from where I'm standing, the changes you've wrought are monumental, indeed. Keiko meant nothing to the still-living members of Team Urameshi, but you? You mean so much to each and every one of them." Hiruko cast the net of his arms wide, encompassing the world, the universe, the entire heft of creation in the sweep of his crimson sleeve. "To one, you're the sister he always longed for. To another, the mother he didn't think he deserved. To yet one more you're the friend he never thought he'd call his own—and the last? Well." His lips twisted, cruelty a blade hidden in the contours of his smile. "The last of them is hopelessly in love with you, now isn't he?"

My flesh burned hot with indignity, humiliation, and the ash of broken pride. "Don't you dare speak for them!" I shot back, lacing every word with venom. "Don't speak on their behalf as if they're not here!"

"Do you think I'm lying?" Hiruko said, pitying once again. "That what I say isn't true? Because I assure you, Not-Quite-Keiko, that it is."

"And I don't care if it's true! I only care that it's coming from you." Waving haphazardly at the air behind me, at the people standing so close and yet a million lightyears away, I said, "If it's true, they can tell themselves. If it's not coming from them, it doesn't fucking count."

For once in his life, Hiruko looked taken aback, even if it was only for a moment. He stared at me in stunned silence, and it was only when I heard the crunch of gravel under a foot behind me that I remembered myself. We were not alone; this was not a dream; the confrontation had not taken place inside my head. My friends had heard everything—and that meant the game was over. The jig was up. Olly olly oxen-free, come out of hiding, Keiko, and call it quits.

But just because the game was over didn't mean I couldn't go down swinging, now did it?

"You've lost, Hiruko," I said, breathing as if I'd run a thousand miles—and I knew I still had more to run. "You've lost, and they've won. Just like they were supposed to. They won, damn you!"

But his smile only grew more pitying, and he said, "Oh, my dear girl. Who says I didn't want them to win?"

And before I could reply, to tear the meaning of that from his chest like I wanted to tear his heart, another voice cut in: "You may not have lost, Hiruko. But I most certainly have."

It was Sakyo; it was his foot that I had heard crunch over the gravel, his brooding face standing behind my group of friends with hands deep in the pockets of his impeccably tailored suit. Like Hiruko, he smiled, but it was a grim look—one I understood when he removed his hand from his pocket, revealing the detonator gripped within it.

Ah. We were at that part of canon, then: The part where Sakyo blew up this stadium, taking himself and any demon foolish enough to linger in it down with him.

Koenma stepped between Sakyo and the rest of our team, hands upraised. "Don't act rashly, Sakyo," said the demigod, uncharacteristic pleading in every word. "Just think for a second—"

"I wagered my life on the outcome of that match, Koenma. Don't you remember?" Sakyo said, smile never wavering. "And since my team has lost, it stands to reason that I, too, will now lose my life." His bright eyes flickered up to Hiruko. "A pity that I'll die without hearing your true motives, Hiruko. I admit they've fascinated me since the day we met. But to know you wanted Team Urameshi to win shows me that I aligned myself with the wrong party, and that our causes we not as cohesive as you claimed." He held the detonator a little higher, smile widening a tad. "Yet another reason why I lost, and why I must bury both myself and my ambition beneath this shattered stadium. Compromised judgement doesn't suit a man of my occupation, as it were."

Hiruko hummed under his breath. "It was a pleasure working with you, Sakyo," he said, bowing at the walking dead man. "May I assure a dying man that our objectives were, indeed, the same? They merely lie upon a different timeline, I am sorry to admit."

For a second, Sakyo didn't react—but then his eyes shut, smile finally losing its grim edge. "Interesting," he murmured. When he opened his eyes again, the smile touched them at last. "Well, then. Goodbye, Team Urameshi." He held the detonator higher still. "And good luck."

Sakyo pressed the button before Koenma could attempt to change his mind again. Nothing happened, right away—but then there came a rumble, distant but growing, shaking the ground beneath our feet until loose stones began to rattle. A horrific crash rent the air, demons screaming as a loose slab of concrete tumbled from its perch and squashed those unlucky enough to be standing below. Dust shook down from the stadium's overhanging room, pebbles and chunks of stone falling like deadly rain to the ground below. And still through all of this that horrible rumble grew louder, and louder, and louder still, earth shaking beneath my feet until I staggered. I could hardly hear a thing as the stadium began its inevitable collapse, but I felt it loud and clear when Botan grabbed my arm, screaming for us to run for the hole we'd come through, to get to safety while we still could. I obeyed at once, sprinting in her wake toward the sun streaming in from the outdoors, shielding my head as increasingly large stones pattered against my head and shoulders.

I don't know why I looked back. We were nearly to the hole in the stadium wall when the urge to look for him gripped me tight, eye drifting over my shoulder almost of its own accord. I didn't see him at first, hunting for a scrap of red or pink amid the chaotic crumble of the stadium—

Blue glinted, our eyes locking into place.

I stopped running.

I turned around, and I walked toward Hiruko, back into the deadly tumble of rock and stone.

It felt like magnetism, the way my feet guided me back to him—but somehow, I was not afraid of walking back into the maelstrom of falling concrete. Time slowed, stones and rocks falling around me with an unnatural lack of speed, slowly drifting like feathers on the wind. The threads lashing and undulating just on the edges of my vision had something to do with it, no doubt; Hiruko could manipulate time itself, slowing it so I could make my way toward him without incident. Protecting me. How laughable that he should protect me now, here, when all he had done so far is harm.

I wasn't laughing when I came to stand before him. He'd come down from his perch, standing only a few feet away with that ever-present, unending smile still plastered across his face. His lips moved, but when I couldn't hear him, the sounds of the collapsing stadium and screaming demons fading away to nothing. I heard him perfectly after that.

He said, "Would you like a clue, lucky child?"

I didn't answer, because he knew the answer. He walked forward, arms wide, and enveloped me in an embrace I could not reject. His mouth moved against my ear, breath cool on my skin as he whispered a truth—a truth I felt in my bones, resonant and inevitable, but one I could not yet bear to face. As he drew away, I buried the truth inside myself, words concealed inside a box into which I did not dare peek. I would take them out later, turn them over and over in my hands and give them the consideration they deserved—but at another time. Another place. When he didn't stare at me with such pity—pity that, at last, I understood.

And he knew I understood it. He traced the line of my jaw with a fingertip before pressing the most chaste of kisses to my forehead, pink hair brushing my skin like the fall of a sakura petal.

"Oh, my poor girl," he said into my skin. "I am so, so sorry."

So was I. But before I could say a word, a scorching hand closed around my arm. The hand pulled me back, out of Hiruko's cool grip, dragging and then carrying me away with the speed shadow itself. Just like that, sound rushed back in, rocks falling with their natural speed that was no match for Hiei's incredible agility.

I managed to look back, only once, as he bore me away from disaster.

But by then, Hiruko was already gone.


I took a deep breath, and I turned around.

They stared at me with confusion in their eyes: Yusuke, Kuwabara, Botan, Shizuru, Atsuko, Yukina and even Koenma. Hiei and Kurama were there, too, of course. The entire gang was there, although the latter pair looked more apprehensive than confused. But that was to be expected. They knew my secret already, in bits and fractured pieces. They knew what was coming. They knew the significance of the past few hours. They knew why I stood before our friends in the boys' hotel room with nerves gnawing at my pulse, fingers twisting like a length of gnarled rope. As dragonflies bit the lining of my belly, I shifted from foot to foot and tried my hardest not to barf in the spotlight of their stares.

But this confession was not a dream, and there would be no second chance when I was through.

"Before I start," I said, swallowing, "I need to ask a favor."

Yusuke slouched in his seat upon the couch. "You're not really in any position to be asking favors, Grandma."

"But what gives, Keiko?" said Kuwabara, who sat beside him on the edge of his seat. Imploring eyes searched my face. "Are you OK? What is this all about? The older Toguro was lying to us, right?"

"I'll get to that." A deep breath. "But first, my favor." I looked at each of them, one by one until I had all of their attention. "What I need… is for all of you to shut the hell up."

This is not what they had been expecting, judging from the variety of reactions that echoed through the room. Yukina looked hurt, and Botan appeared peeved, which Yusuke gaped at me like I'd grown another pair of eyebrows. Atsuko just laughed, though, while Kuwabara appeared more confused than I'd frankly ever seen him. Only Hiei and Kurama didn't react, poker faces held as carefully in place now as when I'd been summoned to stand before my friends.

They knew what was coming.

It was a comfort I found cold.

"Excuse me?" Shizuru said, not amused in the slightest.

"You're also not in any position to be ordering us around," Koenma huffed.

"Just—just shut up, OK?" My heart beat wild in my chest, pulse thrumming in my neck and lips. "I will tell you the truth, but you need to shut up and not ask questions until I'm done or else I'll lose my nerve and barf and then we'll never get this settled, so just—so just shut up, all right, and let me talk!"

I hadn't meant to lose my cool, but at least it shocked them all enough to fall quiet, not a word spoken as I braced myself for what was to come. My legs tried their best to tremble underneath me, but I locked my traitorous knees tight, forcing myself into unnatural stillness that did not match the tumult in my chest.

I took a deep breath.

I shut my eyes.

I opened them again.

"My name is Keiko Yukimura," I said, looking each of them in the eye in turn, "but that has not always been my name."

Then—because the game was over; olly olly oxen-free; come out of hiding, at last—I summoned forth the truth.

And I told them everything.


NOTES

End-credits theme song for this chapter is "Fractures" by Illenium. "What comes after tiny fractures?" I encourage you to give it a listen.

And here we are. For some of you, this cliffhanger might be worse than the last. But once again, I'll try to update in a week (that's a few weeks in a row now!) to alleviate the pain of it.

And thus, we've come full circle, using lines from multiple previous chapters (including chapter 1) as she finally confesses her origins. It's been a long time coming. We'll see the fallout in chapter 104.

I'm not feeling like my best self at the moment, although writing this helped. Have been excited for this since the start of the story, and I'm glad to share it with you. I know it's kind of fraught/stressful, so I get why people might drop off reading these tense chapters recently, and I promise to write some more upbeat stuff soon since we're all stressed during the COVID19 situation.

Many thanks to those who chimed in on chapter 102. It was great to hear from you: RE Zera, xenocanaan, MissIdeophobia, Theproblemadult, Mia, KhalleesiRenee, Jengurl24, MyWorldHeartBeating, balancewarlord, Domitia Ivory, Freaky Shannon-igans, DeusVenenare, noble phantasm, vodka-and-tea, mothedman, MyMidnightShadow, Convoluted Compassion, EdenMae, Vienna22, tammywammy9, rezgurnk, TheEccentric1, Mayacompany, Call Brig on Over, C S Stars, Kuesuno, Kaiya Azure, Sorlian, Yakiitori, LadyEllesmere, Na, o-dragon, tehquilamockingburd, IronDBZ, yaoiangel00, Aria2302, Saj te Gyuhyall and AJKitKat!