Disclaimer: Kenshin does not own the Yuu Yuu Hakusho characters (they are the property of Togashi Yoshihiro et al), and does not make any money from said characters. Don't sue.
What Kenshin does own, however, are all the original characters portrayed in this work. Any attempt to "borrow" these characters will be met with the katana, or worse.
The events in Idiot Beloved take place shortly after the Dark Tournament; it sequel Firebird Sweet directly follows that timeline, and this particular sidefic occurs somewhat later.
Title: Death by Hiei C2: 'Room For One More, Honey!'
Author: JaganshiKenshin
Genre: Action/Adventure, Humor
Rating: T
Summary: Hiei is down, but can Kurama operate successfully?
A/N: Ohkubo-san makes a cameo appearance in this chapter. See my accompanying sketches on LJ, and as always, thanks for reading and please review! ^^
A bullet in the back spells trouble.
Death by Hiei (C2: 'Room For One More, Honey!')
by
Kenshin
Hiei lay crumpled upon the ground, victim of a rogue demon's bullet. I glanced round for the culprit but he had long gone.
Broken chopsticks. Bad luck.
Ever since the Dark Tournament, Hiei and I have been walking around with targets painted on our backs, him more so than myself. A certain type of underworld punk sees Hiei as a traitor to his own kind, and while most come to grief on his sword, some do succeed in inflicting damage before meeting their inevitable end.
And since Hiei is indeed a demon, the process of getting him medical attention is fraught with peril. For one, although Hiei appears to be quite human to the naked eye, he is not. His bone structure, musculature, and most of his internal organs raise no alarm bells upon cursory inspection. However, any form of blood test will reveal that Hiei is not what he seems, as will any X-ray of his skull. Even the biggest medical dullard is bound to notice the gaping hole in the middle of Hiei's frontal eminence.
Therefore the task of providing medical care invariably falls to me. 'Doctor' Kurama, once again reporting for duty.
I had managed to catch Hiei before he fell, placing him face-down so as to minimize damage from the bullet, but his skin looked waxen and his breathing seemed ragged.
Glancing around to ensure we were alone, I dug into Hiei's pocket to extract that curious phone. It must contain some sort of artificial intelligence, and having observed Hiei use it I knew what to do. Clicking it open, I requested, "Would you please connect me with Kuwabara-kun?" With Kuwabara's size and strength, we might both be able to wrangle the unconscious Hiei home without either arousing too much suspicion or causing further damage.
"Who the hell are you?" the unpleasant voice demanded.
"This is Kurama. Hiei is---"
"I don't care if you're the freakin' King of bloody Sweden. The request don't come from Hiei, I don't gotta listen."
"You don't even seem to do that."
The phone then suggested I engage in an activity that is anatomically impossible. Unable to comply with its request, I gave up on the phone. There was another resource, and I thought of that old saw: telephone, telegraph, tell a jaki.
More bad luck.
That damned greedy jaki---when you really needed it to fetch help, it was nowhere to be seen.
I couldn't haul Hiei through the streets on my own, and I most definitely could not call the police---not with officers Masumoto and Obayashi still looking askance at Hiei from his battle with Old Dragon. If they didn't stick him in jail just to be friendly, they'd call an ambulance, and it had been difficult enough hiding Hiei's demonic nature from the hospital staff the one time he'd been forced into treatment. Back then we had Dr. Smith running interference for us. Smith was not on call today.
Give up? Broken chopsticks and bad luck and all that?
Not if I could help it.
Kuwabara's friend Ohkubo was currently employed in driving a truck. He was not only strong and capable, but would likely keep silent if necessary. There was a pay phone on the street.
I would have to leave Hiei to make the call, but I summoned a plant that formed a sort of lightweight cage of brambles around him; not only would it ward him from further attacks, but also keep him concealed from prying eyes. That done, I sprinted for the phone.
0-0-0-0-0
Ohkubo met us at the edge of the park, his broad, dark and somewhat stolid features now enlivened with more than just a passing curiosity at the situation. Nevertheless, he helped me get Hiei into the truck without giving me the third degree, and only a caution not to bloody it up too much.
Hiei managed to rouse himself just as we drew near his house. With Ohkubo's sturdy assistance we extracted Hiei from the truck, and he allowed us to support him at first. But as we started up the walkway he snapped, "Let go. Can't let the kids see me dragged home on your arm."
When Hiei gets like this it's best not to interfere.
"You sure he'll be okay?" Ohkubo, hovering at Hiei's left elbow, shot me a worried look.
Hiei favored us each with our very own deathglare.
"If he has enough strength to do that, he'll be fine." I manufactured a cheerful grin for Ohkubo's sake, but I was far from certain of the outcome.
"Never been a parent, have you?" grumbled Hiei. I suppose that was his way of thanking Ohkubo, who gave a long-suffering sigh before getting into his truck and driving off.
That Hiei is ferociously protective of his twins Michael and Cecilia never surprised me. That he was also a bag of mush in their hands had---but as I do not wish to see my young life cut tragically short, I keep quiet on that matter.
Pulling himself upright, Hiei staggered the last few steps to the door, and graciously permitted me to ring the bell.
The door opened to reveal Shayla Kidd, dressed in chartreuse capris and a loose orange overblouse, colors that went well with her fire-hued hair, but her face looked pinched and pale, the gray eyes stark with worry. She had a dustrag carelessly stuffed into the patch pocket of her blouse.
She also wore a jaki on her shoulder---the little gray one from the restaurant and park. It was not a fashion statement.
She fed it peanuts as though it were indeed a squirrel; shells and red papery skins littered the genkan and some of the debris had even made its way into the living room. The jaki looked at me from my sister-become's shoulder, its liquid black eyes round as though it too, was in a state of shock.
"Kaasan's got the twins." Shay-san's voice was tight and clipped. "Little Squirrel---he came and told me what happened, so I called your mother. She's picking up Michael and CeeCee from cram school. It's okay. They won't see Hiei like---"
As soon as Hiei heard that, he slumped against me, and once again I managed to catch him. Gasping, Shay-san hastily stuffed another peanut in the jaki's hands and stepped back to let us in. Clearly struggling to control her own fear, to remain calm for Hiei's sake, she asked, "How bad?"
"Bad enough," I replied. "Shoulder. No exit wound."
"Where do you want him?"
"Guest room." Hiei was and growing heavier by the second. "Are you strong enough to set up the massage table?"
She darted away before the words left my mouth, jaki still clinging to her shoulder. With my burden of the unconscious Hiei, I followed more slowly down the hall and to the left, where a guest room was tucked away next to the downstairs bath.
Shay-san already had the massage table set up in the middle of the room. It was a small space, with bare wooden floor, sparsely furnished and dimly lit, but in addition to the table there was an armchair in the far corner, illuminated by a gooseneck lamp, a secondhand bed in the opposite corner, along with a mis-matched chest of drawers and, serving as a makeshift night stand, an old metal cart of adjustable height.
As I eased Hiei face-down onto the table, Shay-san brought the tall gooseneck lamp and trained it on us. The jaki clung to her shoulder. It had balance, I'll give it that.
I ducked into the bathroom to scrub, and to fetch the bag of somewhat esoteric medical supplies I keep at their house. When I returned to the guest room, Shay-san was staring down at Hiei as if trying to reassure herself he was still breathing. She did not look up. "What else do you need?" she asked.
"I've got to get his mantle off so I can see the wound. You might bring a bottle of rubbing alcohol and bandages. A space heater too, now that I think of it." A warm operating theater is good for the patient.
She nodded, her eyes still big with worry.
"And get that filthy thing out of here." I pointed my chin at the jaki, which was still spraying peanut debris.
"Squirrel-chan is not a filthy---" Nevertheless, seeing the wisdom of operating room cleanliness, Shayla Kidd dangled a peanut in front of its eager face. "Listen to me, Squirrel-chan. There's more where this came from, if you can bring me information about the one who shot Hiei."
"Yes, yes." It stretched its hands out for the last peanut. "But I won't share!"
"You won't have to," she soothed. Withholding the last peanut, she departed, the jaki still clinging to her shoulder.
I took a breath. There was barely enough light to see what I was doing.
To my surprise Hiei sat up and looked at me, the crimson gaze steady enough. "What's going on?"
"You've been shot."
"I thought we established that." He wiped sweat from his brow with the back of a hand. "I mean what---"
"This will probably hurt." I divested him of both mantle and shirt, and took a look at his wound.
Just as I suspected---one clean, round hole, about a half-inch in diameter, still bleeding, entry point high on the right shoulder, slight charring at the edges of the wound. A faint scent of cordite and scorched blood. The wound undoubtedly cut into the trapezius muscle and probably the infraspinatus beneath. I examined Hiei's front. No exit wound, which could mean any one of a number of things.
A small-caliber bullet that had been stopped by contact with Hiei's shoulder blade would be the best scenario.
The worst? Having been discharged from a high angle, the bullet, if not stopped by bone, might have burrowed down where even I couldn't retrieve it without risking Hiei's life.
I refused to think of broken chopsticks.
At least Hiei's wound wasn't bleeding in gouts, and his color was better now that he was home.
"How are you holding up?"
"Keep her out of here," he muttered through clenched teeth. "I don't care how you do it."
"I heard that." Shay-san lurched inside, lugging the big heater, with a bottle of rubbing alcohol sticking out of one pocket. "Not this time, Dragon Boy."
Hastily I relieved her of the burden and set the heater up. "She's squeamish," Hiei explained unnecessarily. "If she faints and hurts herself it's on your head."
"That's right." Setting down the bottle of alcohol, she shot Hiei a ferocious glance, which was undoubtedly her way of displaying relief to see him sitting up. "Talk about me like I was invisible. And it's not the smartest tactic to threaten your surgeon just before he operates."
"I'm used to it," I demurred. "The first time I treated Hiei he threatened to kill me." Directing Hiei to lie face-down, I had Shay-san train the light on the wound while I bent over my patient, considering approaches and options.
In my bag was a seed from a plant that grew in India millennia ago---the perrow vine, or Kali's tongue. It is attracted to metal, and was once used to purify the soil. Maybe luck could be persuaded over to our side again.
Having decided on a strategy I moved quickly. "You won't like this," I apologized, pouring raw alcohol into Hiei's wound to sterilize it.
He winced. "What else is new?"
I rolled the metal cart up close to the makeshift operating table with Shay-san hovering anxiously nearby. There was a stainless steel tray in my bag of tricks. I instructed her to place it on the cart.
I could not afford to look up now; the game was on in earnest and Hiei's life perhaps hung in the balance. Palming the perrow seed, I coaxed it into life: a miniature vine, blackish-green in hue, smooth and as yet leafless, no larger in diameter than dental floss, but with many times its tensile strength.
The root end curled around my palm before I sent the tip down into the wound to seek metal and wrap round the bullet.
"You'll like this even less," I murmured, as I ordered the vine to retract by the path that would cause the least damage, bringing the bullet out with it. "Sorry."
There was no sound from Hiei, other than a slight catch to his breath. The vine returned triumphant, clutching the bullet, and the wound bled freely again. That little catch of breath is the only signal I have whenever Hiei is in real pain; when I am merely working out one of his muscle knots he yowls like a scorched cat and accuses me of trying to murder him.
Allowing myself a sigh of relief, I dabbed blood from Hiei's wound. Perhaps we were heading out of the woods after all.
The perrow vine, having done its work, now hovered over the metal tray, still hanging on to the prize. At my command it released the bullet. The bullet clanged down into the middle of the tray and rolled to the raised lip, where it stopped, leaving a trail of blood. "The bullet seems flattened," I murmured. "Can someone tell its caliber or make just looking at it or----?"
"I'm.. not... f-familiar with..." Shay-san's words slurred, and then her voice slid away altogether. I risked a glance. No. Human females are definitely not meant to be that shade of green.
"Kurama..." Hiei's warning growl.
Eyelids fluttering, Shay-san swayed on her feet as she grabbed ineffectually at the metal cart.
I was about to have another patient, and my first one was still on the table---and still in danger.
It seemed luck had run out after all.
(To be continued: Can Kurama handle two fallen comrades at once?)
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