Fire and Ice

by Deer-Shifter

Even when memories are wiped, you cannot always wash away the impressions they have left behind, like a glacier's slow but unmistakable footprint in the land. Dead on the battlefield, a mortal spirit is reborn in a very different world, to a very different lifetime-and yet, one similar enough that the position change leads to definite contradictions. Sasu-is-Hiei. 7/20/15 - hiatus

3. Deep Roots Are Not Reached By The Frost

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

All that is gold does not glitter,

Not all those who wander are lost;

The old that is strong does not wither,

Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,

A light from the shadows shall spring;

Renewed shall be blade that was broken,

The crownless again shall be king.

- J.R.R. Tolkien, "The Fellowship of the Ring

Chapter 3: Deep Roots Are Not Reached By The Frost

Bad fortune to the Korime elders, for he lands in water, in a river, and while stunned, he does not die.

Though in later years he scorns luck as a turning force in battles, Hiei never forgets how incredibly lucky he is to have survived to reach his twentieth year, let alone any stage of physical maturity. No matter how much stubborn determination he may possess, no matter how much intelligence, he is still less than three days old when he is dropped.

The water is the first of his saving graces.

It is quick flowing at his entry point, but within a few long turns, it begins to slow enough that he drifts to one side and is caught in the reeds.

His second grace is the bandit who comes to do his laundry.

It has been a good day for the gang of robbers and cutthroats – many valuables 'acquired,' many enemies slaughtered – and, of course, much blood staining the victors' clothes. Laundry is immediately necessary for their sensitive noses (while they hardly mind the smell, it does make it more difficult to pick out old blood from new, and that could be fatal), and it falls to one of the less-skilled members to start cleaning up first, while the more successful, more senior members get to divide the loot, gloating and glaring and grabbing fair shares.

The sight of the bundle naturally makes the demon curious. The sight of a face shocks him, especially when the occupant is awake and aware and alive enough to track him with its eyes. Even so, this is the Makai, and a particularly vicious quarter of it. There is no reason for him to have further interest in the bundle, now that it is proven to be neither threat nor food nor valuables.

Or is it?

Hiei's third grace is Hina's hiruseki stone, the cord still tightly clenched in his hand.

Curiousity leads the brigand to rub at the muddy pendant with a wet thumb until the shine is revealed. Though he does not know the value, he knows that shiny things are as often valuable as not, and even if not, can be passed as such before the eyes of the ignorant.

But when he tries to pull the cord, it does not come free.

The tiny imiko, small enough to fit into their cooking pot three times over, may not be strong enough to wrestle two snakes at once in his cradle and crush them both. But he is stubborn, and this is his – the last thing he has of his mother – and this man has no right to take it unless he is strong enough to do so. Well, this infant is a little more stubborn than the man is strong.

This is the Makai. Strength is interesting.

Unwilling to let go of the jewel (and reluctant to leave the owner even so), the lesser demon picks it up, bundled baby and all, and carries Hiei back to camp.

The next one he shows the jewel to appears to be the leader. If the brawn, size, and intelligence tucked into slits of eyes weren't clues, the fact that he was getting first chance at seconds at the soup pot would tip it off. Or maybe it's just the confidence that is only exuded when a demon knows he is in his own territory, the territory he has fought and scratched and bit and killed for, drawing the boundaries in his enemies' guts, the confidence that says this is mine, I rule here, what are you to me?

Will they never learn? This one wants the shiny crystal too, and is actually willing to stick a second finger close when one hand alone does not pull it free. Foolish to get so close to such a small space with little room to maneuver. Hiei has no qualms about defending what is his, no fears of the large hand. He is a child—why should he not find himself equal to the world? What evidence is there that the bandit is any stronger or less foolish than the inhabitants of the Glacier Village?

The possibility of hesitation does not exist. He has no sword, but his teeth are sharp enough, he thinks.

And as the brigand pulls back, clutching his already bleeding finger, offering a backhand compliment to the 'little rodent's' fangs, he bares his own teeth in a grin, the sort that innocents might find terrifying, but Hiei finds familiar. It is a grin of welcome to a worthy opponent.

He will never know the fire demon who contributed to his creation. He doesn't have to.

He doesn't need any kin in the ice maidens; though he will not forget the mother who claimed to love him, he cannot forgive that she was too weak to keep them together. Words are only good so long as one can and does back them with actions.

What does that matter? He has found kin, blood-kin, even if it is the sort of blood kin formed not by shared ancestry but by shared experience in battle and survival. And in some ways, that is even sweeter.

Here, he will grow strong.

That bandit was to become the closest thing I had to a father.

-Hiei, YuYu Hakusho, Episode 100: The Secret of the Jagan

Author's note: My one reviewer worried that I was too focused on YYH, to the point that this wasn't a crossover. I can only agree that YYH is strong now. The memories are going to start playing a greater role in a few chapters—in connection to a special kind of eyes.

Hope for some more reviews now!