Shizuru.

Kazuma was never the passive aggressive type. If something was bothering him, he either flat out confronted you about it or avoided you until he could figure a way to do so.

He'd been in the "avoiding" stage since Aiko left the other day.

After she left, I requested time off from work. I was going to make a point to Kazuma. It wasn't that he wasn't important, but that I could do this in his stead. He didn't have to burden himself.

I wouldn't have to worry about him.

I had plenty of old work-out clothes I'd bought before. All were from some New Year's Resolution to exercise more and stop working as much. Of course, that never actually happened. Each year I made a point to take on even more hours.

Now, I shoved all the exercise clothes into the camping bag that lay on my bed.

"Where're you going?"

I glanced over my shoulder to see Kazuma under the door's threshold.

"Genkai's," I replied simply, returning to packing.

I knew his brows furrowed, and he definitely had some pouty scowl. "It's that thing Aiko's in, isn't it?"

"Nope."

He paused, taken aback. I mean, I wouldn't outright lie, would I?

"…Then, what were you two talking about on the porch the other night?"

"Mom taught you better than to eavesdrop, Kazu." Idiot, of course I would. "She was telling me how much being at Genkai's helped her."

"Well, Genkai never trained me... but Urameshi always did say how it was like a level of hell or something," he mumbled. "I don't get why you'd want to go there."

I zipped the duffle bag.

"Guess I'm just bored," I dismissed.

"When you're bored, you take up new hobbies like knitting or chain smoking. You don't take up Genkai's training regime."

I hiked the bag over my shoulder. "Maybe I'm bored of chain smoking."

"Yeah and I'm tired of Yukina," he grumbled. "It's about whatever Aiko's gotten into, isn't it?"

"Studying's paying off there, Kazu."

"She really doesn't have faith in my fighting abilities, huh? She thinks just like Hiei, despite hating him," he spat, like it was an insult. I guess for her, it was. "Well, I'll show her. I'm coming with you—"

"I told her to leave you out of this," I snapped, turning on my heels to tower over him. "And I intend to make sure you stay out if, Kazuma."

His sharp features, once laced with irritation and betrayal, dropped to confusion.

"But why?" His brows furrowed. He began scratching the back of his head. He was more confused than hurt. "You know I can help, Sis."

With my next breath, all my pent up anger came out too. I hid the smile that crept up on my lips and kept the stern façade in place.

"You have other responsibilities now. You don't have time to be running around like a hoodlum again."

"I can juggle school and whatever's going on."

I walked past him. "Yeah. Well, even if that's true, I don't want you to."

He paused and looked over his shoulder to me with a dawning realization. "Because you don't have faith in me."

"I just don't have faith in the luck you're dealt."

He reached for the strap of my bag and yanked me to a stop. "Sis, I can help. You know I can. I could help more than you… no offense."

I jerked the strap from his grip and sent a cold glare over my shoulder. "I'm not playing another round of waiting for you to come back alive."

I continued down the hallway, but his retort stopped me in my tracks. "So, what? You're just going to make me play that game?"

I turned around, finding him right behind me, and grabbed him by his collar. Hoisting him towards me, the soles of his feet lifted from the ground as I brought his face down to mine.

"Kazu, you can make something of yourself. You have a shot here, okay?" I snapped. "Mom's gone. Dad's fuckin' around with entry-level gangbangers, and I'm working at a fucking salon. You got a shot at going places, and I'm not going to let you fuck it up for yourself because your pride's too big."

Mom's eyes narrowed on Dad's sharp features. "Working at a salon isn't bad and you know it, Sis. Just because it isn't a nursing position doesn't mean you're some lowlife in the family."

"Yeah, well, in comparison to what you can become, it doesn't mean shit." I shoved him from me, and he stumbled back a few steps before regaining footing. I made it to the stairs before he could follow me. "This has nothing about what you can and can't do in a fight, Kazuma."

Three steps in and I was stopped again. This time by a firm hand on my shoulder. I gripped his wrist and twisted, and though I could hear his grunts of suppressed pain, his hold stayed.

"But what happens if you don't come back, huh?" When it came to family, we were all we had.

"I will."

"And how can I know that when I don't even know what you're getting into?"

I glanced up to him. "Because Aiko wouldn't let that happen."

"Bringing up Aiko doesn't help your case, you know…"

When it came to family, we were all we had…

"Look, Kazuma…"

"Yikes, I need to be worried if your tone's nice…"

I twisted his wrist around so it let go of me. He yelped in pain, and I continued until he fell to his knees. I squatted in front of him, continuing to twist his arm into ungodly angles.

"Aiko and I are both smart enough to know when to ask for help. If we need it, we'll ask you. Okay?" I spoke sternly, embodying Mom. "But until then, let us handle it. Neither of us wants to ruin what you've got going for you right now if we can't help it."

"I give! I give, Sis! Let go!" I complied and shoved his arm away from me. He toppled onto the stairs above him.

"So let us go as far as we can without you, Kazu," I continued. "When we need you, we'll call. Got it?"

He pouted and grumbled obscenities as he rubbed his elbow. I knew he heard every last word that came out of my mouth, though. We were family. I knew I couldn't stop him once he started in on something, and he knew the same went for me.

It would be new for him, letting me wander around like he had, getting my ass handed to me somewhere along the line like he had. But he'd accept it, because that's what I did for him.

That was our sibling code. We let each other do what we needed, and supported them each step of the way. We helped when we could, stepped in when we could, and backed out when asked.

Because we had our own lives to live. Our own mistakes to make. Our own trials to face.

And not a lick of this, so help me God, was Kazuma's.

"Alright," he grumbled. "I get it. This is your thing… I get it." He sat upright on the steps and looked down at me. He'd grown so much in the past year; Mom would have been happy to see him now. "But you gotta promise me you'll call for help when you need it."

I gave him a flighty grin. "After I just had you screaming uncle, I don't know if I'll need your help."

His smirk was short-lived. It returned to the serious, thoughtful face he'd grown from many battles. "Seriously, Sis. I'm here, okay?"

I patted his shoulder and used it as leverage to stand up. "I know, Kazu. I know."

He didn't follow me when I left to the train station, but I knew he wanted to. I followed him to the Dark Tournament, but that was different. I didn't know where he'd run off to or what he'd gotten himself into. He knew at least knew where I was going. Following me would be pointless and earn him a broken arm.

The train ride was long, but the cars were near empty so late at night. There was a stark transition from one stop to the last, where the city became desolate plains. The street lamps were few and far between in the last town, I noticed when I stepped off the train platform. Small houses and stores lined the one-lane street.

It was quiet. It was a secluded town. A young girl, perhaps around the age of seven, was alone, walking her dog in the night. A soft chill fluttered down my neck. My face warmed at the thought of families being so trusting, innocent. The thought of families living in a place with no worries.

It must have been the picture-perfect town. I envied them.

At the bus stop, I noticed the stained cement near the bench: cigarette butts smeared into the ground. I thought of Aiko. My envy disappeared and a sort of calm replaced it.

The bus hissed to a stop and groaned as it leaned to let me on. The driver was an old man who should have been spending his last days with his family. Instead, he cheerfully hummed a tired smooth jazz tune as he drove me to the edge of the mountains.

There was something about stepping foot on Genkai's land. It was new, calming, but, most importantly, purifying. Maybe it had something to do with stepping past the torri. Or maybe it was just because I walked up a hundred flight's worth of stairs and finally hit—relatively—flat land.

Maybe, and perhaps honestly, it was because I wanted that innocence in my life.

The compound smelled natural, like a face full of dirt and grass, and a lingering smell of pollen and oak. It was a peaceful place once one ignored what people came here for: to hone themselves, find themselves, strengthen themselves.

It seemed tonight, though, there was no need to ignore it. Cicadas were quieting down; many too tired to keep up their crying for longer than a few hours. Now, crickets chirped to make up for their slack. As I rounded the corner of the open hallway, heading into the main courtyard across from the main temple, I found Aiko and Kurama.

He'd noticed I'd arrived the moment I stepped foot off the stairs. Aiko, though, was a bit busy grumbling over a hefty hardback cover.

Her groans were soft, crawling through the open night air. "I fucking hate this class."

Kurama responded calmly to her complaints, chiding her softly about how the material was necessary. His words were fluid like his hands as they molded onigiri into their traditional shape. Aiko, hearing my footsteps, leaned past Kurama to see who they belonged to.

She gave Kurama something of an uncommitted glare. "So, what? Were you just going to let her sneak up on me?"

"I assumed you invited her," he replied. He set the perfectly shaped rice ball on the plate between them before reaching into the rice cooker with a wooden spoon to begin another.

"No, I would have mentioned if I was bringing Kazuma's sister up here."

"Ah, I suppose you're right."

"…You were going to let her sneak up on me."

"She's not torturing you tonight?" I asked.

"No, I suspect my life will end in about three hours, though." She removed her half-assed glare from Kurama and settled a neutral gaze on me.

I hiked my bag up on my shoulder to fit snug and passed them by. "Where is she?"

She let out a small yawn. "She should still be up. She's likely in the main common room."

"Her fingers are still working the game console's controller," Kurama confirmed.

I passed them by. "Thanks."

"You know… They list these chemicals like people won't try and make the drugs in their bathroom," she said, turning back to Kurama. "This author is so dense. Who just lists the basic ingredients to drugs like this?"

"Ingredients are only half the battle of making chemical compounds," he replied. "Physically making it matters most. It doesn't come out the same if done wrong."

"I guess, yeah… They had us make some bootleg aspirin in chemistry last week, remember?"

"Yes, you let yours heat for too long and it burned to a crisp."

"…Right."

"Here, try this one. I didn't wrap it with seaweed."

I came to the large shoji doors and waited a second before opening them. Genkai sat on a small, pink cushion in the large room—empty aside from the TV, game console, and tea table. What looked like some variation of Street Fighter played out on the screen.

Genkai paid no mind to her new visitor. She was probably used to Aiko bringing in revenue like this. Another person at her doorstep was nothing to be surprised about. I set my bag by the door and slid it closed behind me before heading towards her.

I sat on the small cushion next to her, where another console lay in front. I waited for her to finish the battle before picking it up. As I made myself comfortable, she shifted around the menu screen and set up the next game for two players.

I picked a random character, a samurai, as she chose an unnecessarily beefy, shirtless, middle-aged man. She was a lot more skilled than I expected, and held no mercy handing my ass to me on a silver platter. Combo after combo after combo, I finally broke it and laid a heavy hit on Shirtless von Beefy.

We continued the games, with me occasionally beating her every few sets. Finally, after what felt like an hour or so, she seemed to tire of the one-on-one battle and got up to change the game. She acknowledged me with a gruff voice as she took out the cartridge.

"So, what's your reasoning for dragging your sorry ass to my temple?" she grunted.

"I don't want Kazuma involved in what Aiko's involved in."

"That little twit brings in more and more of you girls as the weeks pass. Sometimes I feel like I'm running a brothel."

I felt a smile creeping up on my lips. "You use what kills, you know?"

She smirked.

Kurama.

Another date. Below it: names and numbers. They've been steadily increasing over the past few months. Some more so than others, but each was proving to grow faster and faster as time passed.

Jin and Shishiwakamaru were closing in on low A-class level. Chu, Rinku, and Suzuki weren't far behind.

A soft grunt came to the left of me, and I pulled my eyes away from the small notebook to find Aiko had rolled over. Heavy lids opened slightly before being pulled back down. They tried again to open, but she couldn't manage.

Amused, my gaze lingered on her for a second more before I returned to the data. I needed to return to Makai tonight, so this had to be finished quickly. Thankful for the small window near the ceiling of the room that let in moonlight, I read the pages without strain.

"How's progress?" Sleep slurred her words, and with a hefty gruff she rolled onto her back.

"Good, actually," I replied, looking to find her with her eyes still closed as if she was sleeping. "They're still not where I need them to be, but their progress in strength is astounding. It's rare to grow so much in such a short time. Jin's been growing the fastest, I suppose."

"Jin?" she grunted, and I nodded. "Who's that?"

"I'm sure you haven't met him, yet. He's up the mountain."

There was a long pause… quite long. A good minute had passed before she managed: "Good. That's good."

"What's good?"

Again, a long period of silence before she gruffed: "That."

"What?" I paused, and tried again. "What's good?"

"That." Minutes passed again. "Progress."

I laughed quite loud—it was short, but loud. She looked up to me with tired, angry eyes. I placated her with a quiet voice as she dozed off again—this time curled closer to me.

The mechanical pencil twirled between my fingers a few times as I pondered the equation. Assuming they continued growing stronger at a steady rate, then…. A heavy snort, followed by a cough. I gently lifted her face from the pillow and lay it in a more comfortable position to steady her breathing.

By time… In regards to days.

Another snort. Another cough. Again, I repositioned her face to keep from suffocating.

Pencil tapping against the notebook at the projected data, I hummed in thought. It would take another eight months for them to reach S-class. At least, S-class that could handle the title of a second-in-command's army. That would be the case if they continued growing as they were now. It would take until next May for them collectively to reach that goal.

Individually…

Another snort. Another cough. Again, I repositioned her face to keep from suffocating.

Jin, Chu, and Touya could reach the goal in four months. It would be a start.

Another snort. Another cough. Again, I repositioned her face to keep from suffocating. At this point, I was wondering if she was honestly this dense, or if she was toying with me. Curious, I left a hand under her face, cradling it, to see if it would stop her from moving. Or, at least, stop her from shoving her face into the pillow.

Balancing the notebook on my leg, I figured the time for if their growth was exponential. I'd managed to get the answer and she hadn't moved once. Freeing my hand, I returned to finding the time for each individually.

As a collective group, it would take only until this December. The same few would be ahead of the crop at the beginning of November.

Was there a way to make their strength grow exponentially? I could handle Shachi much quicker that way. The earlier I had my men, the earlier I could rid him from the living realms.

I still left him to squirm. He knew he was on my list, that his time was nearing its end. His tone at meetings became more and more hostile. His obstinacy became more and more prominent; his paranoia, more and more debilitating.

He held himself up in public, going about his day and interacting with others almost like normal. There were the slight mannerisms that I noticed, though. The occasional pitches in his breathing when he was alone, the bouts of anger when he perceived a nonexistent threat, and the obsessive tendencies to ensure he was safe before heading anywhere alone.

They were all subtle, but I knew the signs well. The signs of a breaking person. Someone whose mental capacities were diminishing—becoming overrun by paranoia. The symptoms were telltale to someone who knew how to cause them.

He was beginning to believe his own men were turning against him in favor of me. With no proof and too much pride to seek reassurance, he fermented in his delusions in private.

My fleeting presence—behind his office door, around the corner of the hallway, behind him in the dead of night—gave his paranoia all the fuel it needed. Delusions began with a quick start, and now, if I kept it up long enough, I could truly drive him mad.

Part of me wanted to let him live long enough to experience the horror that were hallucinations. Real, non-substance induced hallucinations. It was rock bottom when your own head provided false truth that something truly not real was indeed, with all the sensory stimulation present, real.

Sight. Smell. Sound. Touch. Taste. All of it. None are safe from the parasite that is hallucinations. It creeps up in sultry ways, soft and subtle at first. It left one unsure whether it was just a "trick" of the mind. But they often build up. They continue to grow, until even the most blatant, outrageous hallucination seems true.

Delusions back it up, convincing and promising that it, indeed, was real. And there's no escape, except for whatever compulsion is necessary. New ones fail just as quickly as they flourished until there's but one option left.

But that option wasn't ideal for me. I couldn't have his dead body be a product of his own actions. No, I had a point to make, and I had to make sure all those who paid mind received the message.

So, the exponential growth wasn't too big a necessity for me. The suffering was what gave me delight; it was part of the show, after all. It would be a shame to end it early. I could stand to wait as long as I needed.

Any time between January and May would be his time to die. A large window, it was, as well as a cruel one. For someone suffering from paranoia, that long a time would be enough to drive anyone to the brink. There was also the possibility of him being driven so mad he attacked me first. I welcomed that wholeheartedly. It would make my executive decision much easier. And, luckily, I would have at least half of my men prepared to step into his army's place if needed.

Another snort. Another cough. I looked over to find her face pressed into the pillow yet again.

With a small sigh, I set the notebook to the side of my futon and lay next to her. Picking her head up from the pillow for the fourth time, I repositioned it and her body. Lying on her back, she snored softly for a few seconds before clearing her throat and frowning.

I couldn't help but remember how easily it was for me to slip back into this line of thinking. Not minding the idea of mental torture, enacting it, and enjoying it. It was a reminder of my past. The way I handled relationships—platonic or otherwise—the way I dealt with business.

It was a strange, full circle, in which I was becoming who I used to be to save to who I was now. I couldn't help but wonder if the beginning and the end would truly be one and the same. There was a possibility of me dying in the cold war—whether by Yomi or through the escalation of the war itself. I, painfully noted, was not the strongest. It would be strange to die in the mindset I grew with.

Her hand lifted and planted on my face as she slurred her words. "Stop looking at me, you fucking creep."

Her hand began sliding down my face. I placed mine upon hers, stopping it at the base of my cheek. Heavy, her arm went limp, but I kept her hand there still.

It was a way of life that was hard to break out of. Millennia of living a certain way was corrected in a less than a mere decade. Of course, it was no surprise that the old habits resurfaced with ease.

Mother was the first to break the behavior—nip it at the bud. She was the reason to correct myself. Of course, it was no surprise that old habits resurfaced with ease when her safety was threatened. It was only the bud she nipped, after all. She didn't cut it at the root. But familial ties were safe ties among youkai. Familial ties were sacred to only some, but respected by all. Betrayal by blood, despite not being uncommon, was frowned upon.

Betrayal was expected by others. There was no reason to believe that anyone but kin would be trustworthy. Betrayal was as common as death, and it often begot death. Ironically, whom one confided in was telltale to whom one did not trust fully: lover or friend, it didn't matter.

But there was one trait that told a youkai whom to not trust, and that was humanity.

Back when the barrier was down, and youkai and humans roamed freely, we didn't take kindly to each other. Not when they were our food source. Open battles soon turned to witch hunts as centuries passed.

Even now, centuries upon centuries later, it was still a silent issue. One approached with caution and stealth. If reported in this realm, a youkai could almost certainly face death.

I lie next to her, close enough to hear her rhythmic breathing. The rise and fall of her chest; the quick, jolting pupils under closed lids; the subtle expressions made in her slumber; were all so similar. There weren't many differences between youkai and humans. The differences that were, though, were drastic.

Those differences were enough to spark fear, and fear often begot betrayal. It was taboo to be with a human when laws restricted one from being in the same realm as them. It was a common tale one would hear about an old friend who had long ago disappeared from Makai. They'd disappeared, presumed to have followed their dreams and ended up elsewhere... Only to find out a human lover had sold them out to what was now known as Barrier Regulations.

And I managed to find someone who would have the least trouble turning me in if she so pleased.

With soft grunts and groans, she rolled over again, pressing into me and wrapping her arms around me. I smoothed the fabric of her night shirt as it bunched up against her waist before resting my hand on her back.

I figured if I were to fall prey to betrayal, I wouldn't mind it being by her.

Koenma.

It took months, but we managed to close in on flagging all the files of youkai who had run-ins with Barrier Regulations. Unfortunately, those files chalked up to a good couple million by themselves. I finally gave in and made Jorge help. I had him begin reading through the files as I finished the remaining thousand or so left to be looked at.

The files Jorge separated went into one of three categories: suspicious, notorious, and check again. The "notorious" towered over the "suspicious" and "check-again" ten-fold.

Jorge sat at one of the chairs against the wall and grumbled to himself as he adjusted his reading glasses. His eyes shifted back and forth between another larger, informative file and the file in his lap. I didn't snap at him, but his mumbling complaints were beginning to grate on my nerves.

I couldn't blame him. Having to go through one's entire family linage or research their clan was tedious. I was close to ripping my hair out.

"Oh, Lord Koenma…" Jorge's voice dropped in surprise. "Look! Look at this…"

I took the file from him and glanced at the mugshot. It wasn't familiar. I skimmed through the case file's text. My heart skipped a beat and launched into my throat.

"Lord Koenma, they don't interact with anyone but their own…"

"Obviously, Jorge," I spat, noticing I was crinkling the pages. I loosened my grip, and the files spilled to the floor in a mess. "Get me my compact."

Jorge, instead, had already scrambled to the floor to pick up the pages. "You're not going to tell her, are you?"

"I'm telling Aiko what to do next," I snapped, bending down to take the pages from him. "We don't need to bring this up."

He stood and headed to the file room's exit. His footsteps could be heard as I shoved the file aside and began digging through the boxes of files I'd yet to look through. It had to be in there. There was no way I would let her slip past me; I would have noticed if she was caught by Barrier Regulations…

Jorge had already returned to me with the compact before I was even close to finding her file. He took another box of files and began sifting through them with me. Another frustratingly long twenty minutes passed before Jorge exclaimed he'd found her.

Her mugshot: striking red eyes and sparkling blue hair. Yue.

I skimmed through her file, noting the out of character behavior. Of course, a person acted on their own will and had their own values—we heard stories of one such person already. But this clan was tight-knit, relentless. They tied themselves to their ideals like a martyr to their tangible, personified cause.

They dealt with traitors and rebellions with the same methods. Exile or execution.

Yue, unfortunately, received the latter for her disobedience.

Hundreds of years ago, this occurred, I noted. Looking at the dates, I compared the date the barrier went up. Laws became strict decades ago, but it was up for centuries. And she was just a few away… A few decades before it went up.

Even if I were to try talking to the clan about Yue, I would be met with silence. Cordial silence, but tight-lipped obstinacy nonetheless. I was a man after all, and approaching them as a toddler would change nothing. Besides, I was not their Lord; they had none.

"Lord Koenma." Jorge's voice brought me back. "Are you going to ask her about this? She would know… They seem big on passing down stories as lessons."

Shame swept over me. A part of me didn't want to bring it up to her. I would have to, one day. One day soon…

"Let's focus on the living first," I replied.

"Huh?" He watched as I stood, with both Yue's file and the original culprit's in hand, and headed to my office. "What do you mean?"

"I want a live prisoner," I replied, holding my hand out as I walked. "Someone who can talk back—defend themselves."

Jorge came up next to me and set the compact in my open palm. "How can we do that? Anyone sent to Barrier Regulation camps don't come out alive…"

I waited for Aiko to pick up her compact. The fuzz of the screen was taking much too long to disappear. Finally, it flickered away, and the dirty and bruised girl appeared on screen.

"Guess it can't be good if you're contacting me, huh?" she snorted, blood dribbling out of her nose and over her the smirk on her lips. "What did I fuck up this time?"

"I need a live prisoner."

She paused, her smirk died. A harsh grunt, contorted face, and then she disappeared. The screen jumped around until it finally landed upright. Apparently, it was sunny outside today. The compound was looking particularly clean, with freshly wiped wood floors and a spotless courtyard.

"…Aiko?"

"What the fuck, you old hag?!" she screamed, her voice breaking in pain.

Genkai's voice came next, muffled and sly. I couldn't make out what she said. Just seconds later the compact was picked up and Aiko appeared on screen again. Blood poured down her chin profusely.

"What does that mean?" she spat. "A live prisoner?"

"Exactly what it sounds like. I found something while digging through old files." Her furrowed brows relaxed, and her frown softened soon after. "I'll have some copies sent to you—don't show them to anyone."

"Who's 'anyone'?"

"Anyone as in 'no one.' Not even Kurama," I pressed.

"Okay…"

I took a deep breath. "But what I need before exploring the claims in those files is a live prisoner."

"So, you want someone from Natsume's camp?" she mumbled.

"Unless you know of another camp."

She'd looked away from the compact, eyes shifting around gently on the ground in thought. "…I might have a plan." I was surprised. I didn't think she'd actually already have a way to go about it. She then looked up to me. "It may take a while, but if it works out, I can probably get a prisoner for you."

Fukui.

"Alive," I emphasized. "We need to be able to talk to them, extract information."

"One prison to another," she sighed, waving a dismissive hand around. "Got it."

"How long do you think this will take you?"

She paused. Blood continued dripping from her face as I waited. "For all the preliminaries to clear, it could take about a month, tops…. I'll do my best to start figuring how to get someone out. Worst case, I won't be able to get this done until the winter."

"Start figuring a plan for the camp now," I said. "Worry about your preliminaries later."

"I'm going to plan as if the preliminaries are already cleared. What I'm saying, though, is that there's no plan if I don't have my preliminaries covered."

"Figure another way, then."

"There's suicide bombing, maybe."

"Do you take anything seriously?"

"Do you listen to anything I say seriously?"

She was worse than Yusuke, sometimes. And she didn't have the charm or the track record to back it up. "You can find a way to free a prisoner without Fukui or Ryuunosuke, Aiko. You got in the camp; you have access to it. Find another way."

She stared me down with cold eyes. They resembled someone she held dear to her, the way they narrowed coldly. I wondered if he noticed how well she could emulate his features sometimes. They needed a break from each other.

Quickly, though, she steeled her face to hide the brewing emotion. "…Yes, sir."

"You got this far, Aiko," I said. "Put your mind to it. You'll find another way if it doesn't pan out."

Before she could reply, I shut the compact.

"She argues with you a lot," Jorge said as I threw the compact in my desk's side drawer. "And there hasn't been much progress lately…"

"She's our best option right now, Jorge," I replied, sitting in the plush office chair. I set the two files before me and opened them both. "Besides, I don't hold it against her too much."

"Yusuke's backtalk must have really gotten to you. You're more spineless with her," he rambled. "She's pretty, but not enough to make you bend over backwards. Unless… you like the school girl type, Lord Koenma?"

I bit the pacifier and held my tone. "No, Jorge—"

"She's no Benzaiten-sama," he continued, nodding to himself. *

"Leave Benten out of this!"

He jumped back at my voice. "Sorry, Lord Koenma!"

"Comparing a goddess to a mortal, teenage girl… She's a human girl who's being forced into a world of kill or be killed. She's just arguing back so it can feel like she has some sense of control over what happens."

I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel sorry for her. I was using her as a pawn. She was disposable, unfortunately. But she and I both knew that unless something—or someone—better came along, she was the one for the job. I let her get away with plenty, but only because there was the possibility of her not returning each time I sent her out.

I would deal with Kurama when that time came. I would deal with Yusuke too, and even Kuwabara. But until then, we did our awkward dance: an ugly tango. Filled with stepping on each other's toes and muttering obscenities under our breath behind forced stage smiles.

"You give in to her often," he said, cupping his chin in thought. Then, he plopped his fist in his hand. "I see! Giving her a sense of control with the little things keeps her tame. I underestimated you, Lord Koenma! You're not as spineless as you look."

I was about to grind my teeth clean through the pacifier. "Just go make the copies, Jorge…"

I wanted to look at them for a while before that, but if I didn't get rid of him I would have likely strangled him. Yue's picture was taken from me that second, drifting away—seemingly—slowly. I watched Jorge scurry out of my office to find a copy machine.

I owed him more credit than I gave him. Had he not caught the small line of text, it could have slipped through our fingers. It would have remained buried in the piles of millions. Now, I would have to comb through her history—her relationships, her entire life.

Every interaction.

It was subtle, her impact on this case. It made no sense for her to be a criminal. For her to be charged with conspiracy—with anything.

A case like hers would have been popular, had it been true, had it gotten around.

Perhaps I was looking too far into it. It could be a false positive; I only found what I wanted to find. But still, with who she was—her clan, her blood—it was unlikely. It was unlike them to bother with anyone but their own, let alone plan to commit what were now considered war crimes.

Fukui.

My thumb rubbed against the navy blue cover, leaving a smudged finger print in its wake. Who the hell was Ito, Yori? She knew Aiko?

I knew the little bitch was up to something…

I shoved the compact in my jacket pocket.

"…Right, Hitomi?"

I looked to Akane, who had just come up behind me.

"Huh?"

"I wish I could zone out like you," she sighed, handing me a hot cup of coffee as Ami trailed into the room behind her. "Ami should do something extravagant for her final in her child development class."

"They're children, Akane," Ami sighed. "They can't hold notes like that."

"Yeah but that song—I mean, it's good and all but, really, Ami?" Akane groaned. "Your voice has so much more talent. You could do great songs."

"I will for the juries in my major class," she reassured. "We had to make something that resembled the graduation song."

"You're just tired of hearing it, Akane," I said, taking a sip.

"I'm justified in that," she replied. "Especially when I hear it six fucking times a day, every day of the week."

We sat in Ami's room, back home. We usually stopped by here every so often—twice a year at most—for an errand. I was always forced to leave early when we stopped by. I eventually asked to just not come over at all, considering I would leave before them. My father told me it was rude to not spend as much time with them as possible. They were his boss' daughters, after all.

So in the beginning, I asked to stay.

"Ami has shit to do, Hitomi," Akane said each time I asked to stay. "No offence, but your family's just secretarial. You don't have clearance for this."

All I knew was Ami dressed in a white kimono for her events. Why?

"Tradition." Ami smiled, giving me the same shrug each time.

The only thing I got to be a part of was the torture and extraction. There were times I wasn't even allowed to participate in that, either. Usually they were high profile cases. Often, Ami and Akane wouldn't be allowed to participate either.

"Should I go back to my natural color?" Ami asked, looking at herself in her white vanity mirror. She gently fingered through her recently touched-up blonde roots. "I feel like the blonde look is getting a tad old."

"Yeah, you have been blonde for a couple years now, huh?" Akane mused to herself, flipping through a magazine with one hand and holding her coffee in the other. "What about another color?"

"Maybe red?" Ami suggested.

Akane scoffed. "Sorry, that color's been tainted by Aiko's weird feminine boyfriend."

"What do you think, Hitomi?" Ami looked to me through the mirror.

I imagined a myriad of colors on her briefly. "Natural colors or…?"

She shrugged. "Whatever you think would look nice."

"Maybe if you put some toner in it, like a light pink?"

"She wants to be cute, not a damn Lolita, Hitomi," Akane snorted.

"Lolita style is cute," Ami interjected, fluffing her hair over her shoulders. She eyed the strands in thought.

"It is, but like… I keep thinking of pedophiles when I see the dresses. They're always making their victims dress like that or something."

"You watch too many cop dramas."

"I'm sorry. It's nice living vicariously through the rough and tough cop babes, okay?" She turned to me. "Doesn't it make you think of pedophiles?"

I nodded. "That book didn't help."

"The book was supposed to show how disturbing Humbert was," Ami noted. "It was told through his perspective, wasn't it? Of course it would come off as acceptable."

"And look at how people interpret it." Akane cocked her head to the side, flipping to another page. "You know, I may commit mass genocide but at least I'm not a fucking pedophile."

There was a knock at the door, and Ami called to her housekeeper that it was fine to come in.

And in came Junichi, one of Ami's many, dazzlingly attractive housekeepers. He had auburn hair, honey brown eyes, and a soft jawline that gave him a boyish charm.

The Hayashi residence employed young, attractive men—mainly at Mrs. Hayashi's request—who needed a job while they were in college. They just had to wear a suit, be attractive, and cook and clean. The unfortunate downside to this? There was one main house rule for them: don't date the Hayashi's daughter or her friends.

So I lusted from afar.

It wasn't like it mattered anyway. Even if the rule wasn't in place, if they knew what I did, the things I've done, they wouldn't want me.

"Miss Ami, the room's been prepared," Junichi said, bowing slightly at the waist. "Have you chosen an artist to play for the duration?"

He then stepped in the room and pulled out a thin envelope from his blazer.

"Thank you, Junichi!" Ami smiled, taking the envelope. "I have. It's on the chair there. Please see Hitomi out, will you?"

"Of course." He looked to me and I stood from my spot on the edge of the king-sized Western-style bed.

"Oh, Akane," Ami giggled. "It seems you were in two places at once on the island yet again."

"What?" She cocked her head up from the magazine. "I was in the hotel the entire time."

"Well, it seems you were charged for the drinks you ordered in the VIP booths of the arena."

"I never leave the hotel," she groaned. "It's that fucking little rat youkai posing as me again."

Since Akane hit puberty, one of Reikai's associates, who had the gift of shapeshifting, took a liking to her appearance. It became a running gag between the Tournament and Reikai officials. They could never tell if it truly was Akane ordering drinks in the VIP lounges or if it was the associate, there to watch over the tournament and see things through with the rest of the Barrier Officials.

"That little rat better hope it never crosses paths with me on that island. So help me God, I'll have it executed." Akane didn't know what the associate looked like, so there was nothing she could do.

"Oh, come on, Akane," Ami chided gently. "It's all in good fun."

"Yeah? Well when I find out what fuckin' breed that rat is, I'm taking out that clan too," she snapped, returning to her magazine. "Another fucking critter scurrying around and posing as a human—it's disgusting. I don't even care about bringing it in for interrogation or asking for credentials. Posing as me is enough to warrant it being killed on the spot. It shouldn't have a job with Reikai to begin with."

I paused, wondering why that was so important for me…. Because we never killed youkai outside of the camps. Never. At least… we weren't supposed to. It'd be a waste, was the phrase thrown around. But shit happens.

Akane's hatred flared so easily, ever since we became more involved in the camp. Then again, maybe it's always been this bad, and I was just noticing it more often as I tried to separate from it.

I handed Junichi my coffee.

Akane turned her attention to me briefly. "Are you heading back to Tohoku now?"

I glanced to the chair, finding the CD Ami picked. The Gymnopédies. She always did like classical.

"No, I'm going to stop by home really quick," I replied. "See my dad."

"See you tonight then." Akane, with her eyes glued to the magazine still, gave a lazy wave goodbye as I followed Junichi to the foyer.

Upon opening the front door, I saw Hideyoshi sitting in the car, waiting at the curb. He'd been my personal driver since we came here when I was little. As usual, as I settled in the back seat, he asked how my day went.

"Same," I replied.

"Are you feeling okay?" he asked.

His voice was aged, throaty like any other old man's, but his tone was always calm and leveled. It reminded me of the way a psychiatrist spoke to their patient. It was soothing and familiar.

I shrugged, leaning against the window as he eased on the gas. "I guess."

"Where would you like to go first?"

"Home."

"Your father is talking to Ryuunosuke."

I glanced to the rearview mirror to see his tired, old eyes. I wondered how much longer he had to live. I didn't want Hideyoshi to pass on. He had another five to ten years left in him…

"Will Ryuu still be there when we get there?"

"You know they always wait to see you if they know you're coming around," he reassured me. I shoved my hands into my jacket pocket. "And before I left, I mentioned I would be picking you up."

My hand bumped into the cold compact, and I pulled it out once more to look at it.

"Thanks," I mumbled.

On what scale was Aiko trying to stop this? Just trying to stop Akane wouldn't make much of a difference. There was no way she could overthrow Reikai. If that was her goal, she was going to need a lot of help from up top.

Would it be worth it to help her? On such a small scale, the impact would be meaningless.

But then what did I expect by going to her for help before? …I just wanted to sleep at night. It didn't make much of a difference, honestly. I couldn't sleep any better, and the days didn't change. I still did the same horrible things. What did I really expect from her?

I just wanted someone to know, I guess. Know what I did, and have their opinion of me not change. Aiko had her opinion, and though it wasn't good, it wasn't like it would change much. It didn't seem to. But… she had a plan. Would it actually work? If it didn't…

Honestly, as much as I wouldn't mind dying, I didn't want to bring shame to my father. Suicide was enough to do so, but being a traitor brought a whole other level of shame. He may as well be exiled himself, if not executed.

"…this time?"

"Huh?" I looked to the rearview mirror to meet Hideyoshi's eyes.

"What music did Miss Ami pick this time?" he asked again.

He liked Ami's choice in music, and he said when he was younger he attended as many recitals as he could. He recognized a lot of names from Ami's collection that I'd rattled off over the years.

"The Gymnopédies," I replied.

"Aerik Tsatie," he mused, a smile growing under his mustache. "My favorite is the first movement."

I forced another smile, but considering I honestly didn't care, it was a hard feat. "I'll listen to it sometime."

As much as I loved Hideyoshi, I often tuned out his rambling after a while. I zoned back in every so often to catch the last few words and then ask a simple question.

"Oh, who did you say you went with again?" I asked, a couple minutes into this story.

"My second daughter, Mayu," he replied.

"Oh, right, right." I looked back down at the compact and frowned at the smudged fingerprint. I rubbed it on my jacket and it disappeared.

What did she even have planned? Exposing us? To who? Reikai? They funded us. And even if it all worked, what then? What would I do with myself? This life was all I knew—I may have hated it, but it's all I was familiar with. Who would I be, if not myself? Myself—the person I loathed.

The door I was leaning on opened, and I caught myself before falling out of the car. I looked up to Hideyoshi, smiled, and thanked him before heading inside. Being home was bittersweet. It held all my worst memories, but it was the only place where someone loved me.

After taking off my shoes, I headed to the staircase. Luckily, Ryuunosuke had just come around the corner of the second floor hallway. They looked down to me with warm, familiar burgundy eyes, and smiled.

"Ryuu!" I quickened my pace up the stairs to meet them. "How have you been? I haven't seen you in months."

Their arms wrapped around me, pulling my face into their thick, crisp blazer. Familiar smell of warm spice, a popular cologne, waded around me.

Their grip tightened around me, holding me tight. I felt an unusual amount of emotion bubbling up in my chest. I didn't know why, I couldn't explain it, but my face burned. My eyes stung. Perhaps it was because I wanted to let loose. Perhaps it was because I wanted someone to show they cared.

I wanted help, but I didn't know how to ask for it. I didn't know where to ask for it.

Immediately, I regretted letting loose. I hoped they couldn't see me cry. I buried my wet face into their blazer, but my pathetic whimpers gave me away. Their hand smoothed my hair, and they leaned down to whisper.

"We're all here for you. You won't be alone."

I froze as they pulled away. Their hands lingered on my shoulder before they stepped past me. I watched them descend the stairs. Before they left, they bowed slightly to Hideyoshi at the door, who did the same before looking up to me.

"Miss Hitomi," Miss Sendai called to me from the other end of the hall.

Before I thought to wipe my face, I turned to her, finding Shindo next to her. They didn't ask why I was crying, because…

"Would you like a hot bath prepared?" Miss Sendai smiled, deepening her crow's feet. "I'm preparing dinner, right now. Your favorite."

I found myself smiling. I knew my father would never take my side, never care. His work was all he had, and so, was all I had. Or so I thought. But it would be okay, I thought, because I had everyone else.

"Yes, please. That'd be nice."

A/N:

* Benzaiten is the Japanese goddess/deity of everything that flows: words, eloquence, music, etc.