Disclaimer – I do not own anything of Naruto or YuYu Hakusho. The poem 'Fire and Ice' is, of course, the work of Robert Frost. Any other poets or quotations will be given their due credit if used.
AN: Originally, this was going to be one long chapter. I've split it in at least two, and apologize for the cliffhanger with the promise that the rest will be up by the end of Thanksgiving break. 4,000+ views on fanfiction dot net, and 100+ views on ao3? Love you guys, even if I wish for more reviews, or at least kudos. Also, can anyone tell me why I had a sudden spurt of viewers on ao3?
Credits to the Manga Exclusive chapter, "Two Shots," for events and dialogue reused here. It can be found at the end of Volume 7, if you wish to reread it.
When Winter's ahead,
What can you read in November
That you read in April
When Winter's dead?
I hear the thrush, and I see
Him alone at the end of the lane
Near the bare poplar's tip,
Singing continuously.
Is it more that you know
Than that, even as in April,
So in November,
Winter is gone that must go?
Or is all your lore
Not to call November November,
And April April,
And Winter Winter—no more?
But I know the months all,
And their sweet names, April,
May and June and October,
As you call and call
I must remember
What died into April
And consider what will be born
Of a fair November;
And April I love for what
It was born of, and November
For what it will die in,
What they are and what they are not,
While you love what is kind,
What you can sing in
And love and forget in
All that's ahead and behind.
- The Thrush, by Edward Thomas
Fire and swords are slow engines of destruction, compared to the tongue of a Gossip. - Richard Steele
Chapter Eleven: The Tongue of a Gossip – As you call and call
It takes a week for Hiei to scan the Makai for Yukina, using the Jagan, rather than over a century of unreliable and unconcealable physical searching, and eliminate any idea of her presence.
It takes two weeks, much more carefully spent, to find her access point to the Reikei, and from there, to the mortal world.
(At least, he hopes it's her access point. Even with the Jagan, he's working with a second-hand mental signature, and the few times he's forced to let others in on his search (before he cleanses their minds of the event, very carefully) he has to broaden his scan to a female with ice powers; kōrime are only one race of many to fit that definition.)
And by the time he reaches the world of humans, a full month past that final conversation with Shigure, he's following a thousand traces of rumors, each less likely than the last.
He can confirm his target's path (even in his thoughts, he dares not name their relation; his recent surgery has given him too much of an appreciation of mental vulnerability. Even his theft of a volume of mental exercises is less helpful than he'd like; apparently this many centuries away from a library has gotten him out of the habit of reading, and his kanji are archaic and unfamiliar, even if the recent memories help. He can only be grateful that at least it's not a different alphabet) to this world if scanning from either the Reikai or the Makai. But once he has crossed the barrier himself, he cannot sense her. Troubling. Either she has learned how to shield (which means an event that would make her think she needed to) or someone is shielding her (for purposes of their own, more likely). Or—
No. He refuses to think of that option. No body means alive until proven otherwise. And even a body must be checked; corpses can be faked. He learned that from mere exposure to the Otokage and his right hand of a scientist.
Either way, he is now stuck tracing rumors. The hard way.
Just as well he has practice leading a manhunt. Sasuke does, anyway, and Hiei has no trouble drawing on the human's memories for this purpose. Even if he lacks the team he's used to.
It's definitely similar to tracking Itachi or the Hachibi, Hiei admits. In both cases, much of what he had to go on was rumor. But he's lacking some fairly key components: contacts like Grandmother Cat, for one. Karin's chakra sensing might have a replacement in his own Jagan, but not enough experience or side commentary using it.
(And no, he does not miss Team Hawk or their bickering or loyalty. Just their skills.)
(…He's wasting time arguing with memories again. Damn it.)
Two days into the human world, he finally gets a rumor that seems promising.
When he hears it in full, he doesn't even bother with more than a rudimentary repair-wipe on the mind he's been scanning; he just grabs his katana, steals a map, and hitchhikes on top of a noxious, noisy machine he's heard referred to as a 'bus.'
Yatsude. Eight-Hands.
It's one of the names he's heard in passing while infiltrating the Reikai. Office gossip, then; life-threatening now.
'You don't get to make any comments on my quota, Mr. High-and-Mighty! Do you have any idea how difficult it is grabbing hysterical souls with spirit powers, sorting out human from youkai, and sprinting the hell out of there all while trying not to get caught? We're just lucky Yatsude eats the flesh and not the souls, too, to get power from them. It's not just humans, it's youkai too if he can get it, and always with a taste for females! He'll have one meal for each hand, too! Ugh! You get the cleaning bill for this kimono, buster! Blood is one thing; slime and bone dust is too much!'
He'd tuned out after that, but now the conversation returns. Yatsude: eight-handed demon, known for eating both human and youkai, gaining power from consuming flesh, and a marked preference for female meals. This latest rumor suggested the perverted scavenger had snatched a wounded female in the aftermath of a catfight for territory—and that Yatsude had come out of the encounter with a case of frostbite as well as a full gut.
Please, please, don't let me be too late before I've even begun…
The demon was known for underlings as well, weak and cowardly male demons who, for the right to nest in the oni's territory unbothered, would use their powers to draw the targeted girls off alone by various means. Once they were vulnerable, Yatsude would snatch and consume them. It was a coward's way to hunt, and Hiei would have despised it on principle alone. But he would have let the scum be if not for their coinciding target.
Naruto wouldn't have. But he's not Naruto. If he is anything from that old life, he is an Uchiha, with an Uchiha's knowledge of the necessity of flame. Lest a grassfire consume the whole world in its insatiable hunger, sometimes one must preempt the crisis and set a controlled fire oneself, before the drought creates a land ripe for an inferno. He will save what he calls precious. He cannot save them all.
But maybe he can save one person.
Snarling, pushing his memories aside, Hiei leaps from the top of the foul machine. The crackling voice within has announced its arrival at the town Hiei has sought.
Ten minutes later, having stolen a snack of rice balls (the only thing he recognizes for sure), a drink of water, and another, more local map, Hiei shelters himself in his chosen tree. Eating slowly but carefully – ugh, too much salt, and so many chemical traces even in the fillings – and washing it down with water, he evens his breathing.
A mild power assessment confirms his fears – his powers remain drained. At this point, he's about a D-Class demon in terms of power (he really does not need the memories of collecting trash and walking dogs that the similarly-named ranking system calls up, even if the many humiliations of Naruto offered some much needed humor). Not E-Class, thank fortune – that would put him at risk against even a human opponent. But it's humiliatingly weak and slow compared to Sasuke at the time of his death, let alone Hiei's stamina before the surgery. His practice with Shigure, plus several bandit gangs and bar brawls turned to stains on the ground back in the Makai, have thankfully gotten him used to the difference – but against Yatsude…
It wouldn't be so much of a problem if it weren't for the oni's choice of diet. That particular mystical meal was a popular choice for lower-class youkai who didn't mind being inconspicuous and risking Spirit World justice in exchange for an instant power boost per serving. Yatsude's species might have started him out as D-Class, but at this point, considering how long rumor said he'd been doing this… and the fact that Reikei's justice hasn't stopped him…
It could be a case of corruption, of course, but that didn't seem quite as likely if Yatsude were interfering with the ferry girls' work.
(A more superstitious part of him remembers the Eight-Tailed Ox's jinchūriki. "Power of Human Sacrifice," indeed. He thought he'd captured that one. Instead, the joke was on him.)
(And now he's dealing with an Eight-Hands, who has no problem with sacrificing meals to his giant maw for power…)
Enough!
He will defeat this… deviant. If Yukina has not run into the bastard, it is best to make sure she won't in the future, and he wouldn't leave a loose end, anyway. But he cannot afford to let the beast's power rise any higher. He doesn't have a team to back him up, this time.
Just an eye.
He swallows a sudden desire for Karin and Suigetsu's manic jabbering, and Juugo's quiet attempts to play peacemaker. Wherever they are, they are beyond him. Yukina is not, not for certain, not yet.
He closes his eyes, spreads out his senses, and unknots his bandanna.
The hardest part of the surgery recovery has been getting used to the new neuron pathways and the information the eye brings him. He has gained a new appreciation for Kakashi's lopsided hitai-ate; if the Sharingan is anything close in power-draining-causing-headaches in a non-Uchiha to the way Hiei's Jagan behaves now, it's no wonder the man kept it covered all the time, even with his jounin-level chakra reserves.
Ignore the background chatter of the city. Ignore the traffic. Ignore the minds at work. Search for disappearances…
A police sergeant in an odd uniform, wearily looking over another missing person's report.
A mother and her nine-year-old son, posting flyers for a missing dog.
A "middle school," whatever that is – tense with energy, waiting for the final bell. In some classes, the students clean up for clubs; in others, they get a head start on strange worksheets full of numbers.
And in one…
"Again? Some students have disappeared again?" -This is the third time in a month…-
"I heard of a couple that disappeared, too…"
-Oh, oh, I know!- "Maybe they went to town? The local area's pretty boring…"
-Honestly, these people are idiots…- "Ah, Minamoto-kun! What do you think?"
Youkai aura. Jackpot.
Mentally marking the school location and matching it to the map in his hand, Hiei rises to his feet, settles his bandanna back it to place, and begins to roof-hop across the blocks between the bus stop and the civilian academy. D-Class or not, he's still fast enough to be invisible to untrained human eyes.
Halfway there, he stops to recheck his position, and curses as he feels the rise in youkai energy – and the accompanying thought…
- I had hoped not to use my youki… but apparently they're not leaving me with any choice. -
Not Yatsude himself, but a subordinate?
His ears prick up at a young, female voice – a human aura, if one with a little higher spiritual energy than usual, perhaps academy student level, first year – and a male voice he matches to the youkai presence.
"I… I see. I'll go now…"
One last jump to the other side of the street.
The male grips the girl's arm abruptly, stiffening. "Keep close," it orders, eyes tracking Hiei's path.
No!
Hiei lunges, but the youkai in human skin is too fast; he and his target are five steps away. All Hiei has managed is to slice their schoolbag straps.
"You were able to evade it?!" Cursing his slowness, Hiei raises his blade for another pass, one meant to blind the other.
Instead, his katana clashes with another blade – a distinctly green one.
If there was ever a time to desire grass-cutter Kusanagi, the sword that could not be blocked, it's now. Damn it, can he never get anywhere without facing down a damn Mokuton user somewhere along the line? You'd think crossing dimensions/lives/whatever-this-is would do it.
"Hurry up and get out of here!"
What?
But Hiei has no time to deal with that incongruous statement, not when his opponent is forcing him back towards the treeline.
While his opponent does not appear to be the best with blades, he is nevertheless very skilled. Hiei can hold him off, but not incapacitate, and finds himself unable to return to the urban area beyond the treeline – strange, for a youkai allied with such an unsubtle oni to be worried about exposure to humans. Not even Shigure made such an evenly matched opponent, after a time. Hiei would almost enjoy it, if not for the stakes.
"You're pretty good," he huffs, as they clash and spring apart once more. Not the level of Mifune, General of the Samurai – that man was fast enough that Sasuke was limited to his sword and techniques without handseals – but still very, very good. Which makes the connection to Yatsude all the more odd. "Why's a skilled guy like you working for a creep like Yatsude?"
His Jagan is covered, but still passively working. Even without it, Hiei could have read the absolutely genuine shock in his opponent – and then the horror.
"What?! Yatsude?! You mean he's here?!"
Nothing ever matched the shock of the night of the massacre, save the discovery of his sister; and nothing ever surpassed it save finding out it was all a lie in the case of the first.
But this comes as a pretty close shock, if one compares the discovery of Kakashi's Sharingan.
"Huh?" Hiei lands on the ground, several meters away from his erstwhile opponent, who has lowered his blade. "You mean… you're not working for him?" It comes out as a question, though he means it more as a statement.
"I see," breathes the redhead, looking at him with understanding green eyes – eyes that do understand, unlike Sakura's, without offering pity by the name of compassion. "It's okay; you can put your weapon down. I live in this town," he explains, condensing his own blade.
The adrenalin is draining, along with the desperation that has clouded his thoughts too much of late. Hiei shakes his head, resheathing his katana in annoyance with hands that shake too much. "Tch! I lost my temper too quickly…"
As usual… I assumed I knew it all, and now it bites both me and those I hold precious…
Straightening his shoulders habitually, he stops and grimaces at a warm wetness in his side. A drop slaps the ground, and he knows it isn't rain.
This amount of blood loss really shouldn't hurt that much. Or cause that much exhaustion. He knows from experience.
He barely remembers collapsing to his knees as the light fades from his vision.
*/*/*/*
AN: And…cut!
Sorry about the cliffhanger; Like I said, I realized the chapter was getting overlong, and split it. I should have the rest up soon. Sorry about the short fight scene, I'm not the best with those even when I'm just retelling it.
Actually…know what? To quote a certain blond vampire:
"I was rash, and if I had to do it all over again… [laughs] Who am I kidding? I'd do it exactly the same way, only I'd do this first!"
Unfortunately, unlike William the Bloody, I cannot put fanfiction above schoolwork except when I don't have any. But I seem to be on a roll, so I'll do my best. Thought-provoking or thought-provoked reviews especially welcome.
Next time: Kurama and Hiei talk. Hiei compares the redheads he knows.
Yes, that means exactly who you think it does.