AN: this was my entry for The Deadliest Sin's Big Bang challenge. Sayurinakamura made a wonderful video to accompany it: www. youtube. com/ watch?v= pzZal1omx-U &feature= player_embedded . Some of you may also catch some Doctor Who references :)

A Moment in Time

The Makai Barrier was the single greatest feat of ingenuity and power that the forces of Reikai had ever put forth.

From the time it was a spark in Lord Enma's mind to the time that the final plans were tested and approved, already two centuries had passed—a blink in the life of the immortals in Reikai, but in the meantime, the mortal realms were falling into turmoil. And that was something King Enma simply did not approve of. So, while his engineers went to work on the problem of separating the humans and the youkai, he had his magicians and spiritualists at work slowly siphoning off the energies of miko, and completely incorporating them into the barrier when they died. He and his son did the same, working to siphon off some of their own energies to ground the barrier. The lives that were lost during the erection of the barrier were a mere statistic in King Enma's mind once it was completed and proven to work beyond expectations, immediately thrusting the youkai into the newly created Makai.

But for all the effort that was put into creating the barrier and all their pride for its effectiveness, there were four key faults that the Reikai leadership did its best to keep under wraps. Much as they hated to admit it, Ningenkai would not last without youkai—or rather, youki. The race of holy men and women the gods had put on the earth long ago were slowly dying out, even as the human race was quickly increasing in number. It was these holy people who, just by living, were able to replenish the resources of the earth. And yet, born of the earth, youkai could do the same, some more aware of it than others. This issue brought about the primary fault in the barrier: humans and youkai could not live together in peace, yet Ningenkai could not survive without youki, leaving Reikai with the realization that a full split could not be made. The alternate world, Makai, was instead anchored to certain locations in the care of the remaining holy people of any power. Mount Fuji was one such location. In Ningenkai it existed as a snow-capped site home to temples and pilgrims; in Reikai, it was a shadow on the bland landscape; in Makai, it was home to a certain youkai smith who terrorized all who came near.

This first issue directly gave rise to the second: the barrier could not be impenetrable—not and still be able to sustain itself. And so the Reikai made plans to create a force to catch the small-fries that managed to sneak their way through the barrier into Ningenkai. If a few of the lesser youkai occasionally wreaking terror on the humans was the price they had to pay, it was a small one in comparison to the damage that could be done by one of the truly powerful youkai.

These first two bits of information were regarded as secrets, but not uncommon knowledge—more ignored embarrassments than anything else. But then there was the final fault, a fault that only King Enma and his son knew about.

There are moments in time that are key to the development of humankind, moments that define history, and the future. There was one moment in time that the Reikai, in establishing their barrier, was hoping to forever prevent: the re-creation of a powerful jewel into one. They wanted to prevent the act, prevent the possibility of evil triumphing over good, prevent the possibility of good trying to make the impossible pure wish, but they never could have predicted what had occurred.

A single moment in time. It wasn't something normal humans could see, and some of them couldn't even sense it. But enough did that the area was left alone—that lingering feeling of dread and desperation and sorrow, so overpowering that it was only the most sensitive that could get over the ghost-like could to feel the hope, the love, the faith that remained during that last, critical moment of battle, when the barrier, unexpectedly delayed but unable to be stopped, rose.

A single moment in time, out of sync with the rest of the universe by one second, a gap in time caused by the barrier interrupting one of those deciding moments in history. One second was all it took to remove it from sight, from the awareness of those who hadn't been closely watching the battle: a young woman and her companions, exhausted but determined, facing off against a hanyou who had lost all of his humanity. Her arrow was drawn and charged with holy power and yet a tentacle was headed straight for her. It was a scene that could have been painted, allowing audiences to look at it in anxiety and wonder: Would she triumph, or be impaled?

It was a scene that Hiei studied in detail before coming to a decision.

Though the notion would have been thought ridiculous by…well, anyone who knew him, heard of him, or had faced the tip of his sword, Hiei considered himself to be a scientific youkai. Hands-on practice in anatomy had taught him exactly where to strike on an enemy to ensure a quick kill, and exactly how to prolong suffering. Increasing skill as an assassin—and, sometimes, outright murderer—brought him clientele who hired him to pull off kills with ever-increasing difficulty, sharpening his strategic mind. But above all, he was logical. He dreamed only rarely but, unlike those foolish psychologists who believed dreaming was a function that allowed dreamers to work through issues from the day in the night, or the subconscious trying to get a message through to the conscious, he knew that these dreams were merely memories, reactions to the energies swirling around him every second of every day, even during sleep. After all, even with the Jagan sealed and the dragon warded, his senses were acute. It was these energies of the multitudes around him that built up, sometimes forcing images to grow in his mind and he would relive whatever part of his past had crept up from his memories. It was annoying, but it was science. Actions, no matter how passive, and reactions.

And so, being of a scientific mindset, his brain immediately went to work on the why of this situation: Why was it that he was sitting on the rim of a dry well in the middle of a forest facing some girl who sat on the opposite rim?

It was a dream, that was obvious. While the breeze rustling through the trees and the scent of the forest around him was real enough, and the other inhabitants of this place varied enough, there was a single underlying aura—and it was strongest where the girl sat.

"Why have you invaded my mind, girl? How?"

"Why is it that you think I have invaded your mind? Perhaps I invited you into my own mind. Or," she paused, thoughtful, "Perhaps we are two strangers, brought together by fate in some paradoxical dreamscape. I have been told quite often that I am a paradox." She flashed a smile at him. He glared.

"Give me a straight answer, girl."

"Ask me a better question and maybe I will."

Hiei jumped to his feet, hand on the hilt of his sword. "That is my only question, and if you cannot answer it…then you are useless to me."

It was a quick draw, and a quick, clean slice. Too clean. He could neither see nor smell any blood from her neck as she fell into the depths of the well. Soon, he couldn't see or smell anything, left with only the sensation of falling, headfirst, down, down, down…

Hiei jolted awake.

Twang.

Shhhh…

Thunk!

It was dark there, in the place Hiei found himself in, which was much more normal in comparison to his usual mental reactions to external stimuli during periods of rest. He had been in many dark places in the past.

Twang.

Shhhh…

Thunk!

However, none of his memories carried that particular set of sounds. And as his eyes adjusted and he began to explore his area of confinement—a very brief exploration—he realized he didn't quite remember these particular surroundings. Yes, he was in a dark space, but it was only a few square feet all around and from above there was light peeking through, like shafts in an old roof.

Twang.

Shhhh…

Thunk!

He was in a well, a place he didn't remember.

Twang.

Shhhh…

Thunk!

And as soon as he realized this, he took a moment to read the energy signatures around him.

Twang.

Shhhh…

Thunk!

It was her.

Eyes narrowing, he jumped out of the dry well only to find himself in some old storage shed. As he opened the doors, he shielded his eyes to prevent the sudden rays of light from blinding him and immediately laid eyes…

Twang.

Shhhh…

Thunk!

On her, that girl he knew he had killed. And yet, here she was, dressed casually but eyes full of concentration as she reached behind her, grabbed an arrow, strung it, and—

Twang.

Shhhh…

Thunk!

Hit the target.

The fact that she—rather, the arrow—glowed was his next realization.

"Miko."

She turned at the title, bow and arrow pointed down, and smiled. Just like she had the last time.

"Hello, there! It's about time you showed up; I'm almost out of arrows."

He hated that, how she was so casual about it, as if he hadn't tried to kill her, as if they were friends meeting up for…for…whatever. Instinctively, he reached for the hilt of his sword and, quicker than he could draw, she raised her bow and pointed her arrow right at him.

He was surprised at her speed, and chastised himself for underestimating her: if she was powerful enough to make her arrows glow so effortlessly, then she was the strongest miko he had ever seen; of course she would have reflexes like that in the presence of the youkai who had tried to kill her.

He was preparing to remain there in a standoff for as long as it took to figure out an alternative plan to rid himself of this girl when she sighed and relaxed her stance—just slightly.

"Look, why don't we call a truce for now, and I can make tea, and we can talk for a bit." It was a weak smile that followed the statement, but she seemed sincere and he knew better than to waste an opportunity to study his enemy. He nodded his agreement. Lowering her bow and placing the arrow back in its quiver, she turned away—a moment of opportunity, were he not a youkai of his word—and led him into the kitchen of the modest house nestled on the side of the shrine grounds.

He wondered whether he was actually obligated to talk with the miko, but ended up just sitting and listening as she spun a tale of a powerful jewel and a long battle between good, evil, and the gray space in between.

She came to him in dreams. He acknowledged that now, along with the fact that he was dreaming. Not that he was doing so willingly. That, he was sure, was due to intervention on her part, though he was not sure how. It was a world filled with her memories, her powers, but grounded in his mind.

For the past two dreams, she had settled them on a park bench each with an ice cream cone which, though tasty enough, lacked the intensity of the real world product, just as everything in this dream world lacked something. Whatever—and wherever—she was now, she was once alive, and he suspected that every sensation was a memory of how she perceived the world. And so, like a long-faded memory, so too was everything in this world. Faded. The flavors, and scents, and sounds, even the people—when they made an appearance—were barely distinguishable from one another. Compared to this empty urban landscape, the clearing where he first encountered the miko was far more real than anything he'd experienced through her since. Yet, underneath every last dreamscape was the same aura, hers, so pure and powerful.

She seemed content to make small-talk, make inquiries into his life, as well as—strangely correct—assumptions. He wasn't all that surprised: she had, after all, unloaded upon him her entire life's story. He didn't mind, really—or he was, at least, resigned to the fact that he was stuck with her for the time being. It wasn't all that bad. If she were real, he imagined she would fit in with the rest of his former teammates; she was probably just as useful in battle as Kuwabara, if not more so for her purification powers.

Which reminded him… "You never finished your story," he said bluntly.

She peered over at him curiously. "Hm?"

"The final battle with Naraku. You never said what happened."

He noticed a hint of hesitation in her features, but she turned away before he could really read her. "Well, um…hmm…" She looked down at her wrist and he noticed for the first time that the watch there that she seemed to always fret with was broken. He supposed that whatever dream world this was, it didn't have a jeweler. Then he mentally berated himself for letting his mind wander. "I guess you could say that it was a battle that both sides were destined to lose," she said and, though his sense of smell was dulled in this world, he could have sworn he heard tears in her voice. "The last few seconds are a complete blur to me, but when I…became aware again, they were all gone, and there was nothing I could do."

"And you?" Was she dead as well? Had she passed into death, but not into Reikai? Was she a spirit, drifting through life, and time, just as she had with the well?

She turned to him and the look in her eyes made him feel just the slightest bit of pity, just the slightest bit of discomfort. "I don't know."

They made no noise as they ran at breakneck speeds across the northwestern forest of Makai, a claim that Yusuke would not have been able to make just a few years ago. It was more than the released youki that had been sealed inside the detective for most of his life, it was the new sense of purpose that came with it. The detective had always been a cocky smartass, but now he was a leader, a governor under King Enki—a rather lax king at that, allowing those under him much freedom in their rule—and the position suited him.

And yet, here they were, years after the Makai Tournament, years after their respective debts had been paid, on a mission at the request—not command—of Koenma.

"We have found a correlation between crossing the border separating Makai and Ningenkai and the disappearances of young men and women in the same area," the Prince had said, pushing buttons on his remote to operate the TV flashing pictures in front of them, as he had done so many times in the past. "We believe this to be the work of slavers, though we have little proof, as they have managed to evade the border patrols on both sides."

Kurama raised a brow. "An inside job?"

"Perhaps," was the solemn reply before his voice returned to its businesslike tone. "We will be looking into that later. For now, both sides have agreed the important thing for now is to stop whoever's responsible while we can catch them off-guard. We'll need you in two teams, one on either side…"

And so he and Yusuke had been transported by Botan to a location on the Makai border deemed out of range of the slavers' sensors, should they have any, and Kurama and Kuwabara were on the Ningenkai side. Until recently, the arrangement would have been strange. True, Hiei and Kuwabara were the strongest in sensing auras of the group (though Hiei was loathe to acknowledge this), but it was strange to put both of the heavy hitters of the group together. Not that the others couldn't handle themselves, particularly against a bunch of slavers who chose to kidnap humans rather than even low-level youkai. Hiei suspected sentimentality on Koenma's part when he made the decision: the Prince had at some point become attached to the team of misfits he had put together, but it was well-known that his father did not share the same confidence, particularly after Yusuke's heritage was revealed. Hiei knew it wasn't coincidence that he and the detective tended to end up in Makai and the others in Ningenkai. The Prince thought they actually needed his protection.

As they reached the outer limits of the slavers' range, Hiei quit that line of thought in order to concentrate. Sensing no one in the immediate area, he unwrapped the Jagan for a wider scan. Nothing yet. They continued along the border, but at a slower, more stealthy pace.

He wondered how long this mission would take. This was supposed to be his time off of border patrol, yet here he was dealing with some problem the others should have been able to handle instead of watching over Yukina. He growled inwardly when thoughts of his sister drifted to another girl who lived on a shrine. He was not about to let that miko invade his thoughts when he was fully conscious, not when he wasn't actively working on solving the problem of those…whatever they were.

"Dude, what's up with you?" Yusuke asked, breaking his train of thought. Hiei slanted a glance his way but didn't respond. "What, ya not been sleeping well or something?"

Though Kurama was often thought of as the brains of the group, and was best at reading Hiei, Yusuke was not far behind—he had, after all, orchestrated the Makai Tournament, and was far more intuitive than the avatar. He was also like a rabid dog with a bone and would probably annoy Hiei until he was forced to give him some information to get some respite.

"My rest has been…disturbed as of late," he replied evasively.

But apparently not evasively enough as the detective processed the information slowly before a smile crept onto his face. "Is it a girl?" he teased.

Before he had time to tell him, in no uncertain terms, that it was none of his business, there was a beeping sound coming from Yusuke's pocket. The communicator. Yusuke flipped open the compact and they were immediately met with Botan's face.

"Hello, Yusuke, Hiei," she greeted cheerfully. "Kurama and Kuwabara caught the group red-handed. We're transporting them to Reikai now."

"Great! Then we're done."

"Not so fast, Yusuke," Botan scolded. "It's highly doubtful that any of these guys have the mental capacity to plan an operation like this," she explained, finger raised, "and we still don't know where they're taking the humans."

"So you need Hiei to pick through their minds."

"Exactly!"

"Hn, whatever. Come pick us up."

The sooner he solved their problem, the sooner he could solve his.

After a few more minutes of alternatingly glaring at and ignoring the smirking Yusuke, Botan finally arrived on her oar to transport them back to the ever-sterile white halls of Reikai, though nowhere near the interrogation rooms. As Botan began to lead them in that direction, Hiei silently scoffed at the fact that he still had to have an escort. He suspected that it had less to do with the fact that he was a criminal—former criminal, that is—than the fact that Enma was known for his paranoia. Though what good Botan or Yusuke would do if he did suddenly go on a rampage, he had no idea. Botan was far too weak, and Yusuke was just as likely to join in. Of course, it was likely a result of careful maneuvering on Koenma's part that he had such a light escort, or was allowed near the interrogation rooms at all. As much as the princeling could get on his nerves, he did what needed to be done—in this case, trust a youkai to do good…by whatever means necessary. It would be interesting times when Koenma grew a pair and decided to challenge his father.

But for now, he followed Botan in her labyrinthine path to the interrogation room, the one used for criminals, nondescript from the outside, but near the dungeons and furnished with nothing but a couple chairs and bindings. The two held in the room were brutes, weak for youkai—obviously low men on the food chain—but well-suited for the task of kidnapping helpless women. Even now he could sense the fear of their victims, soaked into their auras. The gang may not have been in operation for long, but the only difference was now these lowlifes got paid.

As Hiei closed the door, he made it his first order of business to wipe those smirks off their faces. For good.

It was like a wasteland, this stone, cold fortress, littered with the bodies of those who were too much trouble to move. It was the kind of scene Hiei had grown used to in his unrestrained youth, and was still quite familiar with throughout his life. He could accept the mass murder of dozens, or hundreds, without any remorse. But this…this was a slaughter by lowlifes without honor upon those far, far weaker than they.

Disgusting.

He was completely frustrated with the situation. Somehow, the kidnappers knew that something was wrong, that they had been made. It weighed in his mind that they had taken too long, that this all could have been prevented. Instead, he was left to go room by room, looking for clues. Not in the traditional sense; if they were smart enough to pick up and leave like this on just a few hours' notice, he doubted they would leave any physical evidence behind. Instead, the Jagan was wide open. There were no traces of life besides those of the team in the area, but with the Jagan, he could sometimes reach surface memories of the recently deceased.

And so he went, room by room, floor by floor, searching the minds of these dead women—some too young to really be called women—for faces, and locations, and anything that may give them some direction. Behind him, the rest of the team followed, taking each body to the large dining chamber, most likely to be burned. Reikai would never return these bodies to their families.

Yusuke, Kuwabara, and Kurama filed into the room he just left, each displaying various degrees of anger and exhaustion, as he opened the door to the next.

A shock of blue.

Hiei's aura spiked, dramatically and dangerously enough that he felt the others rush out of the room before he could remind himself that Yukina was safe, in Ningenkai, with Genkai, who could easily defeat any bottom of the food chain kidnapper that threatened his sister. He glared the others away and continued forward, walking straight towards the closest of the two bodies in the room. It was obvious as he stepped in that she was human; the hair was probably dyed blue, like some humans did. Knowing that now, he should have been able to block everything out again, go about his task.

The others were clearing the last room; he had a few minutes to force himself away from his current thoughts. But he couldn't.

It was bad enough that they were abducting women, using them, abusing them, selling them, killing them. Makai—and Reikai, for that matter—had every reason to fear him, particularly during his professional days. But he had a strict code to live by; it was one of the reasons he was so feared—he was every bit as likely to kill the client as the target. His mind kept wandering back to Yukina. She had, when he'd first found her, been a captive of greedy men who wanted nothing more than for her to cry their fortunes out of her eyes. But she was still intact, still among the living, with him. But what if she had been one of these victims, or Botan or Keiko or Shizuru?

Or…Kagome.

Was this how she died, if she died? Did she experience such trauma that she couldn't remember her last moments, and was left, still with so much power, to wander forever?

He hated to admit it, but it was true: he was becoming more human.

And whoever did this deserved a slow, writhing death.

It was a sudden transition this time, rather than slowly fading into her world. He closed his eyes and there he was, walking next to her down an isle packed with foodstuffs as she pushed her cart and chattered.

Normally, he would have brushed it off. Normally—or what "normally" had become—he would take it in stride, learn what he could about the miko, and maybe—just a little bit, and not quite acknowledging it—enjoy being in her presence, so vivacious, so accepting, but so challenging.

But this was not a normal day. There was business to be finished, bloody business, and just the thought of Yukina in that situation—he craved a fight, a kill, a quick end to the search and a slow end to the ringleader of the gang that caused such suffering.

He was not going to get that here.

And so he wasn't about to waste his time listening to some dead miko chatter on. With every inane word, the rage built, and it was just a matter of time…

"—and it's strange, you know?" she said as she picked up a box from the shelf, glancing at it before tossing it into the growing pile in the cart. "Well, I mean, not all that strange for a human and all, but it just came on so suddenly, and after so long. I wonder if it's because—" she glanced down to and to her right—to her wrist—for just the briefest second, the briefest pause, before starting up again, far from where she left off. "I know I probably won't be able to taste it all that well, or at all, since it's not particularly real, but if I concentrate, I'm sure I can cook it all, and maybe that will help. Not the cravings, but maybe the whole feel of it and—"

"Shut up."

She finally looked at him. Surprised. Shocked. Worried. Whatever. "W-what?"

He stalked toward her, a dangerous gleam in his eyes, and he was all the more encouraged when she took a step back into the cart, full of imaginary food from this imaginary place. Her imaginary place.

"You invaded my mind without permission, made this place for yourself, and force me to come here night after night and listen to you talk and talk and talk, like some ghost without the courage to cross over."

"Hiei, I…" she started, tears beginning to pour from her eyes.

"Hn. Some miko you are. Your kind is supposed to be selfless, but how selfish can you be to keep dragging me here so you can have someone to talk to. And out there, in the real world, there's suffering going on every day, and I may not care about most of it, and I may not be able to do much about the rest of it, but right now," he growled out angrily, "you're doing nothing but keeping me from doing what I can do."

"No! That's not true!" She exclaimed, but it had no effect on him as she kept shrinking into herself, fiddling with that damn watch of hers.

"That watch probably stopped the moment you died! Now you're a parasite, left in limbo, unable to grasp the courage your kind is known for. Do me—heck, the entire world—a favor, and pass on and leave me the fuck alone!"

The miko was frozen in shock, so still the thought crossed his mind that his desire had banished the ghost and all that was left in her place was a mirage, one that chilled him to the soul. The way she stared at him was as if he had betrayed her in some damning way, hurt her so deeply she could never be shaken from the pain. She was a husk of a human being, so far from the vibrant woman he had met so many dreams ago.

And then, unlike how this dream had begun, the world began to fade—to blur, really, like flowing ink on a rain-soaked painting—and, just on the edge of wakefulness, he heard a whispered, "I'm sorry."

This time, Hiei did not wait for an escort.

This time, the thugs knew better than to provoke him.

This time, there was no mercy.

Two days. Two days was all it had taken to use the information he'd ripped from the prisoners' minds and narrow down the headquarters, to this place, a hideaway in the mountains, like some bad cliché. Two days, feverish, intense, was all it had taken to launch a surprise attack and kill all the men here, both bodies and minds, because Hiei was not about to take the chance that any of them got away. Their leader, the cocky, disgusting bastard, had only stopped his screams a minute ago. It wasn't because he was dead, Hiei knew, but because he didn't have the strength or will to scream any more. He was fine with keeping that to himself because he wasn't sure what was worse—the fact that Kuwabara couldn't stand to be in the same room with him, or the way Kurama and Yusuke were looking at him.

That bit of contemplation was grounded to a halt when he heard it, a soft moan coming from the corner, where a table lay toppled, its settings strewn across the area. Before the others could react, he was there in a flash, sword drawn and ready—

And then he saw her, a dark-haired woman, dirty and beaten and scared and hopeful and his mind flashed back to an aisle in a grocery store and a clearing with a dry well, and to such a wonderful and horrible place that he had to consciously pull his mind away, back to the present, to what reality is and not what it should be. To this woman, who looked so hopeful but so scared.

He carefully sheathed his sword and tried to smile, to soften his features, hoping it looked more friendly than the grimace he imagined it may be, and leaned down to pick her up. With her securely in his arms, he made his way back to the others, stopping to command them to look for the rest. By the time he'd stepped out of the mountain fortress and into the daylight of Makai, the woman had fallen asleep with her arms wrapped around his neck.

He looked down on her peaceful, sleeping face…and tried to block out the overwhelming feeling of guilt.

As the team debriefed him on their mission, Koenma listened with half an ear, knowing that Botan would give him a proper, detailed report later.

Koenma's job required him wear many hats. He was leader to his employees, follower to his father, archivist and manipulator of the dead, living, and inanimate, and voyeur to all of the above. The huge TV screen served a greater purpose than briefings, and the ferry girls were far more than liaisons between Ningenkai and Reikai. Some extent of paranoia was required to become leader of such a large organization as Reikai, almost as important as knowing one's people. That was Koenma's philosophy. And so, though he did not voice it—it would not benefit anyone to do so—he could tell, from years of study and probing manipulation, that something was off with Hiei, and he had an idea of probable cause. There was a new energy building up inside him, contradictory and complimentary, preparing him, he suspected, for a future he may choose. Or not. It was, after all, a choice, he had been told centuries before.

There were few Koenma acknowledged as master over him. There had been many stronger, but few who were the total package of strength, talent and cunning. Currently, there were only two: his father, of course, was one, though with his increasing paranoia and decreasing power levels, it was only a matter of time before Koenma could take over. The other had given him specific instructions, which he had followed to the letter when he had first felt that familiar energy building in Hiei.

As the heavy doors shut behind the team, a figure stepped out from one of the nooks behind Koenma's desk. The detectives hadn't sensed him—couldn't have, even if they tried, not unless Sesshoumaru had wanted them to. Even then, they wouldn't have believed it. Sesshoumaru was the oldest, most powerful youkai living in Makai. Lord Sesshoumaru, son of the Western General, was royalty in the youkai world, but acknowledged only in myth. Only the four lords who reigned directly over the lower youkai had any idea of his continued existence, and he preferred it that way.

Koenma followed his progress to the front of the desk from the edges of his vision. Sesshoumaru was the same as the first time he'd met him in person all those years ago. Graceful. Beautiful.

Deadly.

Above all else, deadly.

When Sesshoumaru stood in front of him, all that was necessary was for their eyes to meet for just a second for instant understanding to form. Koenma sighed, but whether it was in relief or trepidation, he wasn't sure.

"I'll make the arrangements."

Hiei, being a master of the mind, was also a master of his own mind, and as such was very good at compartmentalizing and forgetting what he didn't feel was important or simply did not want to remember. Logically, he knew that the miko, and the way he had…left her would bear down on his mind, mixing with thoughts of the last case and leave him distracted, a state he could not afford to be in. Logically, he knew that she could only reach him when he was asleep. And so, like any logical youkai, he dealt with the problem of his dreams in a logical way: he didn't sleep.

No sleep, barely any rest. Any time he closed his eyes there was the possibility of having to face her. And so he kept busy, planning for situations that hadn't yet happened. Some people played crosswords. He prepared himself for the unexpected. Trained to be better than he was the day before. Long before he joined the team, he was used to staying awake for days at a time, as a matter of survival. But becoming stronger, he hated to admit, had dulled his survival instincts somewhat, and the consciously enforced insomnia was starting to drag on him.

Kurama had told him last night, head in a book like he couldn't care one way or the other, that Hiei looked like an addict on his first days of rehab. It was no coincidence that, as he was stating this so nonchalantly, his hand casually went to his hair to brush through it, staying there just a couple seconds too long. Hiei bolted. He would much rather stay awake and look, and feel, like hell, than face her, even if every minute of his days were now thinking about her and last time and willtherebeanexttime?

But consciously enforced insomnia was a survival tactic, not a way of life. It could only be used for a few days, long enough for any trouble to die down, before he crashed, hard, hopefully in a safe place. His feverish mind tried to resist, but in the end he knew what had to happen, and so he went to one of his hideouts in Ningenkai…and gave in.

There wasn't much to see here, this time: the well from the first time, the clearing, the tree line, and then...not quite darkness, but…nothingness. He wondered, in the back of his mind, if that was because, for once, his mind had sought out hers and, just as her memories had faded, this was the only common ground between them that he could remember clearly, though he had spent so little time here. Kurama would say that it was poetic to be standing here again, at the beginning, but this time knowing so much more about her, and wanting so much more from her, and for her, and hoping she would feel the same.

He stood there, on the lip of the well, as he had entered the first dream, but unlike that first time, she was not across from him, standing proudly, smiling wickedly. He quietly jumped down to the grass and walked around the well to the opposite site, where she sat with her arms around her knees, head buried, tense. With a sigh, he removed his sword—he wouldn't need it, not with her—and slumped down next to her.

He had thought about what he'd say, if he ever saw her again. Had he been Kurama or Kuwabara, maybe he would have memorized a speech that would sway her to him again. But he knew that he was much more like Yusuke, and what everything really boiled down to was that… "I fucked up." That got the first movement out of her—a twitch, an acknowledgement. A good sign. So he clumsily trudged forward. "I thought life was so much better when all I had to care about was myself, and revenge. I won't bore"—disturb—" you with the details; you know how youkai are. But that all changed when I learned about Yukina, my sister, and how she was looking for me." He laughed darkly. "I hear I have a sister that actually cares about me and suddenly my priorities change. No thought, no ulterior motives. Suddenly, there's someone more important than myself." He paused to look over at her, and felt relief when he saw that some of the tension was released. "When I finally found her, it was only because she was the prisoner of these disgusting men, men who had captured her because I had failed to find her first. They had…" he trailed off, deciding not to complete that statement; he was only getting angry, and that wouldn't help in this situation.

"I've changed, somehow, dramatically. I'm not forced to do the work anymore. But these cases…sometimes they affect me. And this…this gang of lowlifes, what they'd done to all those women…Not even when I was a thief and assassin did I ever sink so low—" He jerked at her touch. He'd been so focused on his thoughts that he hadn't noticed that her right arm had loosened from around her knees and her hand now covered his on the ground, where he'd been clenching at the grass and dirt. She still wasn't looking at him, but it was something, some sign of forgiveness, he thought.

He wondered if he should go on, but before he could say anything else, she said, mumbling quietly, "It's not broken."

"What?"

She looked at him for the first time, and what he saw in her eyes was sadness, and hope. "My watch. Time works differently in the dreamworld. All others are blind to it, but it's too plain for me to see that it's only a matter of seconds before the countdown is finished."

Before he could have her clarify that, she changed the subject again. "And I'm not dead," she said with an air of finality that didn't feel quite final, now on her knees before him so that they were on eye level. Then, backing down a little, she admitted, "But…I am stuck." Try as she might, the tears began to flow. "And I have no idea what to do."

And, frankly, neither did he. In a perfect world, he would have apologized and then…well, something would happen and make it alright. Perhaps a wish would make it all better. Or Koenma. Or maybe he should stop poking around Botan's romance-novel-ridden mind. But now he wasn't sure what to make of everything. She was dead but not really and time was running out? He had nothing to work with and, possibly, everything at risk, and all he could really focus on right now was how perfectly her hands, trying to wipe away her tears, so perfectly framed her lips, and how they looked when she was smiling, or pouting, or licking up flavorless ice cream and how he wanted nothing more than to find out what she tasted like...

And so he did.

It was salty and sweet and left him wanting more—and so, apparently, did she. She returned his kiss with just as much further, deepening it as soon as the thought came to him. He thought for a moment that this was an effect of her emotional state, that he should stop it before they did anything they would regret, but sometimes honor only went so far, and need went so much further.

He woke up—in the dreamscape, not the real world—languidly, warm and content. The scenery had not changed, so he had no idea how much time had passed. Not that it matters here. When he saw her sleeping peacefully with him as her pillow, an emotion washed over him. A good emotion, unlike most he had felt, but similar to one he felt for his sister. It was a sort of joy that she was with him, accompanied by contentment and peace, the feeling that all he needed was to bask in her presence to be whole. He wouldn't put a name to it right now, but he had a suspicion of what to call it.

Kagome, laying half on top of him, shifted with a slight twist of the wrist. She was frowning, her aura subdued. "You need to go."

He answered her with a look.

"I told you, Hiei," she said sadly, "time is running out. You can return here one last time, and then…" She shrugged. "It's up to you."

"What are you talking abou—" She silenced him with a kiss.

"It'll all be explained in due time. Until then…I'll be waiting for you."

The last thing he saw before he woke up was her sad smile.

Between one step and the next, he was in a completely unfamiliar place. He instinctively let his senses take control. The smells and sounds of the forest were clear, but what confused him was the fact that the area, for at least three kilometers around him, was pristine—an improbable fact in a nation such as Japan, not in the current century. That left the question of where he was.

When Koenma stepped out of thin air, he knew better than to be relieved, but regained some confidence having a known variable. Koenma may use Botan and his other ferry girls to transport them and the dead between worlds, but in Reikai the princeling was second only to his father. Hiei hadn't known he could open invisible portals with such swiftness that he hadn't seen it coming, but it was obviously well within his power. And, for whatever reason, Koenma wanted to speak to Hiei alone. He was intrigued.

"Decided to leave your playpen?" he teased the teenager.

Koenma smirked, something that Hiei decidedly did not like, and, ignoring the barb, asked in reply, "How do you like Kagome?"

The growl was immediate.

As was the drawing of his sword.

As was the sword at his neck.

As he followed the line of the blade to its owner, a tall, silver-haired youkai whose entire demeanor screamed "aristocrat" and assassin, he acknowledged that today was a day of surprises. Koenma had transported him who-knows-how-far without his knowing, and this youkai had no aura he could detect. In his experience, no aura usually meant utter weakness, or death. He knew this youkai was far, far to the other end of the spectrum.

When he spoke, his voice was cold and deep and in such a tone that Hiei knew this youkai was always in command. "You have been chosen. You will listen. And then you will choose.

Hiei relaxed his stance, leaving himself the opportunity to defend himself—because he knew that's all he would be able to do, should it come down to a fight—should these two be plotting something he didn't like. But he was curious, and if they wanted to talk, he would stick around.

"Fine. Let's talk business."

At his acquiescence, the youkai seemed content to remove himself from the conversation and to the edge of the clearing, where he stood aloof. Koenma cleared his throat, but Hiei was reluctant to allow his gaze to leave the youkai.

"Hiei, may I introduce to you Lord Sesshoumaru," he said.

The name was strange in his mind, but familiar. A name spoken only in hushed tones by even the most ruthless of bandits, though they claimed he was only a myth. But myths had to come from somewhere, and if he was able to hide his aura from Hiei with such ease, there was every reason to believe that this was true.

"Of the West?" he inquired.

Koenma nodded.

"And what is it that brings myself, the prince of Reikai and the most powerful youkai in Makai together for a secret meeting today?" he deadpanned.

"I already told you. Kagome." Before he had a chance to react, Koenma continued. "I suppose she already told you about her quest, and the final battle."

"Vaguely." Which was true, whether it was because she could barely remember, didn't want to remember, or didn't want him to know.

"Yes, she doesn't know what was going on behind the scenes, just that she can no longer sense the others." Hiei noted the present tense Koenma was using, filing that away in his mind. "Long before the final battle began, my father was already becoming fanatic in his hatred of youkai. To be honest, I used to think that he would go on a rampage one day and destroy them all," he mused. "But the world cannot exist without balance, and without youkai, the humans would surely die, and so it was decided that a barrier would be put in place, putting the youkai in a permanent 'time-out', if you will." Hiei acknowledged this, despite the darkly joking tone; Makai was a place where youkai survived, and few ever found joy. It was no wonder so many youkai tried to find a way to Ningenkai.

"What does this have to do with Kagome?"

"Once the plans were put in place and everything was ready to erect the barrier, we came to the realization that the process could not be paused or stopped in any way. It took…a long time to erect it, but the effects would not be felt until the process was completely finished. As the one responsible for watching over the world while my father was overseeing his project, I had hoped the barrier would be put in place before the final battle, but instead, it took effect in its last moments," he finished, regret in his eyes.

The Makai Lord glanced at the Reikai Prince with what Hiei could only describe as a tired glare of a grudge that had lightened only slightly with time. "The actions of Reikai both saved and doomed us all in the same moment."

Koenma nodded. "That's very true. In the seconds it took for the barrier to effect the mortal plane, Sesshoumaru and a young kitsune were taken immediately to Makai. Her human companions, already at death's door, were taken to Reikai, and the hanyou…"

"Inuyasha was torn apart, physically and spiritually. He no longer exists."

"And Naraku?" Hiei asked. "I was under the impression he was a hanyou as well."

"And that," Koenma said, "is where it gets interesting. Kagome, as a time traveler, and as the guardian of the Shikon no Tama, has always been an anomaly. There are certain events in her life that had to have happened in a certain way. We believe that this is one of them. She was destined to be the one to defeat Naraku, and when Reikai interrupted this fixed point in time, the barrier, rather than ending the battle for good…displaced it." He shrugged, as if that was the only good way to describe it.

"Displaced?"

"We are standing on the edge of the battle, Hiei."

At this statement, he glanced around the clearing, using both his eyes and the Jagan to see if this was true. But he felt nothing that could be taken as a battle. He glared. He was not someone who enjoyed tricks.

"It's not something anyone can sense, Hiei, however good you are at what you do. Think about it, Kagome is a time traveler. When the barrier hit her, her powers reacted, preserving her destiny. The final battle, rather than ending, was displaced, by a single second in time."

Hiei took a moment to think. He wasn't quite ready to believe that without proof, but it did make sense. "How long?"

"They have been frozen like this for five hundred years. If all our research is correct, then only when her past self has left the realm can her present self exist spell will end on the day, the very second, that her past self traveled to the past for the last time."

"Which is when?"

"One week from today."

"And what part do I play in all of this?"

"In one week, the spell will end, and we believe Kagome will kill Naraku." He continued solemnly, "And Naraku will kill Kagome." Koenma drew in a breath. "At the exact moment time was displaced, Kagome was preparing to shoot a purifying arrow at Naraku, but by that time, he was only seconds away from stabbing Kagome through with his tentacles. The only one who could have prevented this was Inuyasha, who was right next to her, protecting her, but he's gone for good. Our only hope to ensure Kagome fulfills her destiny and saves the world from this threat has been to find someone to replace him." Hiei narrowed his eyes and clenched his fists at the insinuation that he was a replacement for some dead hanyou. "The Shikon no Tama may have broken and lent its powers to others, but it had chosen Kagome as its protector long before Mistress Centipede ripped it from her side. Even locked inside time, it has given her an edge, an awareness of the goings on outside of the battle, and a mission. And so, ever since, she has been searching the three realms for someone to replace the hanyou at her side. And before you ask, not just any strong hanyou can serve that function; he has to have the same certain qualities to be assimilated into his space in the displaced time she created. To be honest," Koenma continued with a shrug, "I was beginning to give up hope. From what we understood, with the boost from the Shikon, she'd already scoured the three realms a decade ago with no luck."

"Hn. If this jewel is so powerful, how did it miss me?"

Before Koenma could respond, Sesshoumaru addressed the halfling. "Had you anything to protect?"

"What?"

"In all the years I had known Inuyasha, he was never skilled enough to strike me before he decided to become the miko's protector. He was a selfish brat, but he became the protector of his friends, of that little village, of all Japan, though I doubt he thought that far." He slanted a glance Hiei's way. "Can you honestly claim that you are not the same way? The Jagan is always aware, searching for threats, particularly around your team. And you are no longer bound by Reikai contract to police and protect the realms…and yet you do. The outcast becomes the protector of those who hated him."

"I guess it shouldn't come as any surprise that she would look for the closest match possible to stand by her for the finale."

And that, Hiei acknowledged with a clenched fist, was the nub of it. All that time they spent together, the feeling that he thought might just be love, was brought into question by the sense of anxiety he felt from her, and by a single question: was he a replacement? There was only one way to find out.

"Hey. She said that we could only speak one more time."

"Yes."

"It's time."

She was in the same place that he met her, but this time was leaning against the well, head down, not quite looking at him where he stood on the edge of the clearing. She looked apprehensive this time, trying to smile, but not able to hold it for more than a few seconds at a time. "I can elaborate on anything they haven't quite explained. I know Sesshoumaru isn't a big talker, and, well, I've never really met Koenma in person, but—"

"They answered my questions adequately," he interrupted.

"Oh," she said quietly, shrinking a little into herself. Moments passed, and while he didn't want to ask her the one question that mattered, he knew there was not enough time to linger.

He walked forward, gripped her chin, needing to see her face, see the truth there. "Answer me one thing, Kagome. Am I just a replacement for him?"

She hesitated, looking for an answer, and in that moment of hesitation, Hiei clenched his jaw, already knowing the answer. "Yes, you're replacing Inuyasha."

He turned away from her, meaning to get as far away from her as this paradox land would allow, but before he could use his enhanced speed, she grabbed his arm and forced him to look at her. He could see the raw emotion in her eyes, tears beginning to form. "In that battle, you are his replacement. But, in my heart, you are Hiei. Only Hiei."

When Hiei awoke, it was with a level of clarity that he hadn't felt for a long time. Koenma and Sesshoumaru were there, watching him.

"Take me to the battle," he commanded.

"You're already on the edges of the battle, Hiei," Koenma responded.

"Then show it to me."

Koenma turned to Sesshoumaru, who nodded. Something else to file away for later. "It'll only be for a few seconds," he warned, then sucked in just a little energy from his pacifier and expended a fine mist throughout the clearing.

He was right, it was just for a few seconds, and it was not a solid image, but Hiei got a clear picture of the battle. His eyes were drawn first to the largest body on the field, Naraku, really no more than a mess of deadly tentacles like tree roots with a body attached. He followed the tentacles to their target, Kagome. Her arrow was drawn and charged with holy power and yet a tentacle was headed straight for her. It was a scene that could have been painted, allowing audiences to look at it in anxiety and wonder: Would she triumph, or be impaled?

She wouldn't die, not if he had anything to say about it.

"What's your plan?"

It took just a few minutes for Koenma to explain everything. He would have to be placed into the time distortion in order to become a player during the decisive portion of the battle. Kagome was the only one who could defeat Naraku; it was his job to protect her. A few seconds, nothing more, but it could be the few seconds that prevented the world from being plunged into turmoil. Sesshoumaru, Koenma and the others would be standing by should they fail—Hiei scoffed—though without a strong miko, there wouldn't be much they could do.

With no questions and nothing else needed to be said, Koenma motioned Hiei to get ready. "When you can see them again," he said, gathering his energy and getting ready to perform the spell, Sesshoumaru doing the same, "get into position, quickly."

It was nothing more than a faint outline, this time, but as he ran in, sword drawn, the scene became clearer. When he saw them as defined as Koenma and Sesshoumaru had been in the clearing, he knew that he had successfully entered the displaced time. He could feel his mind slowing down, shut off to the real world, but he could feel Kagome's presence, giving him comfort. Across from them was Naraku, the opponent Kagome had been staring down for centuries, aware of everything to some point, yet shut off to it all. As in the dreamscapes, time felt irrelevant. In a time plane separated from the real world by a single second and frozen until the magic undid itself, he had no idea how time would pass, but he knew he would pass time by planning.

One week. He had to spend one week in this state, then it would all be over. One week and his dreams would be reality.

One.

His foot propels him off the ground, towards Kagome's attacker.

Two.

His blade strikes one tentacle, two, slicing cleanly as Kagome's charged arrow leaves her bow, headed straight for Naraku.

Three.

Another tentacle, too close to Kagome, is hacked off at the last second.

Four.

A pain in his side. But she's okay.

The arrow strikes the Shikon no Tama imbedded in Naraku, purifying it.

Five.

A white light breaks out across the clearing, coming from Naraku and spreading as he disintegrates.

Six.

There is a quiet, motionless pause.

Seven.

The Shikon no Tama floats, whole and shining, where Naraku once was…

Eight.

…And shoots, like lightning, towards Kagome, embedding itself inside her once again.

Nine.

An unwanted rush of senses returns to him.

Ten.

Kagome smiles at him, and that is all that really matters.

He finds himself suddenly with two armfuls of Kagome and realizes how little the dreamscape allowed him to feel of her. Everything there was dulled; was it possible that even this emotion he felt for her was too? It wasn't enough to hold her in his arms. He wanted her, all of her, every day, and in every way. When she looks at him, he sees the same thing in her eyes. She is the type of person who can love many, and love them all deeply, but him above and deeper than all others.

He moved his arms from around her shoulders, cupping either side of her face and brought her to him, kissing her tenderly, showing her, in that kiss, what she meant to him. To borrow a phrase from Botan's romance-addled mind, she melted into him.

To the side, he could feel the others watching them, wondering what exactly was happening but he ignored them. That is, until he heard Yusuke boast, "See, told you it was just girl problems!"

On another day, he would have gone over there and given Yusuke his own problems, but Kagome's arms were still wrapped around his waist, the sweet scent of hers enrapturing him, and today, now, at this moment, that was more than enough.