A/N: I've realized just recently that I have no idea how long this saga is going to be...and I have a feeling it's going to be much shorter than the first one...I hope not -sighs- oh well...and yes there are more flashbacks in this series!!...don't we just love those???

O/C7: Yusuke, Kuwabara and Genkai win their match. They and Kurama and Hiei go back to their apartment in order to figure out a way to get Misaki back into her own body. Coahtu appears and ignites Misaki's molecules...

--

The pain that erupted within those molecules was equal to, if not greater than, the pain as she was ripped apart; though this was a completely opposite circumstance: her molecules were being fused together. Every inch of Misaki was on fire. There was only one way for her to be rid of that blistering, erupting pain. And that was to take on another form.

Everyone saw a part of the ceiling ignite with fire, then plummet to the ground. There was no form to it, no shape, and despite what common laws denoted should happen, it didn't set anything around it on fire. The clump of flames writhed in agony and everyone in the room could feel the throbbing, merging structure. Literally. Misaki's true telepathic abilities were returning as she began to reform but she was unable to control them while in between the two; the searing of her body broadcasted to all of the others.

Kuwabara fell to his knees, holding his head were the pain was emanating from. Yusuke dropped to the floor, feeling worse than he had when Genkai put that stupid orb in him.

Even Hiei, immune to any effects of fire or heat, felt his insides consumed by it. His nerve endings frying, he sank down as well, blinded by her. Through the Jagan, her pain was intensified doubly since the disembodied being was sensitive to such telepathy. His vision faded in and he could see the fire licking at the edges of his eyes.

Then all of a sudden, it stopped.

Through tears, Kuwabara looked up.

Coahtu had sucked all of the fire back as quickly as she had blasted it out. At her feet lay Misaki, restored to human form; though with a few differences.

The ends of her clothes were singed, parts of her skin blackened and others ashen. Her hair was completely white.

Coahtu's hair, usually bright and stunning, hung grayish and wilted.

"Get up." Coahtu commanded forcefully. Even though her order had been aimed at Misaki, the others slowly stood.

Misaki merely stirred, her eyes wide open and staring forward without seeing. The whites of her blood-shot eyes seemed to have flowed over the iris and pupil, giving them a milky-white appearance like one who is blind.

The room remained deathly silent with everyone still recovering from the pain.

Misaki sat up, back slouched with her hair hanging in her face. Then she got to her feet.

Her eyes stared forward, wandering around the room, but no sense of recognition for what she was seeing stirred behind her unnerving gaze. Misaki looked beyond things, never at them.

She blinked slowly and the pain everyone had echoing through their heads faded away; even Coahtu's hair was restored to life, shimmering as though alive once more down the woman's back.

The strain was evident on Coahtu's face, contrasting her hair's lively flow. "If she doesn't get some sleep, she will be of no use to you." Rapidly Coahtu's hair flamed around her and she disappeared.

Misaki still didn't move, didn't blink. She didn't breathe either as far as anyone could tell.

There was a knock on the door and a slip of paper slid through the crack between it and the floor. Genkai picked it up and quickly scanned the contents.

"Times for the matches tomorrow. We play last." She told Yusuke and Kuwabara. "You play first." Genkai motioned to Kurama, Misaki and Hiei.

Kurama looked worriedly at Misaki, she needed rest.

Yusuke yawned really wide.

Kwuabara elbowed him, "Urameshi, how can you be tired when Misaki's..." he stopped, unsure of what condition Misaki was in exactly.

"I'm sorry, but..." here he yawned again. Which made Kuwabara yawn, which made Genkai yawn a little. Kurama was to preoccupied with Misaki's condition to yawn and Hiei refused to yawn.

"Well no one is going to be of any use if we're all falling asleep ourselves. I suggest taking a snack to bed and going to sleep." Genkai noted logically as everyone's stomachs growled on queue, save Misaki's. Neither Genkai, nor Kuwabara or Yusuke seemed to remember that Misaki was unable to sleep, if they had known in the first place. Genkai reached over to the counter and put the paper on top of it, leaving after doing so.

"Too bad we don't need you to fix us something, Kurama." Yusuke walked over to the cabinets with Kuwabara close behind. He opened the doors, reached in and grabbed a couple somethings, tossing one to Kuwabara.

Hiei's eye caught a sense about their movements and when he watched closer, he suddenly realized why Misaki hadn't moved yet.

Kuwabara and Yusuke almost mechanically went into their room, closing the door behind them. Misaki collapsed.

Kurama caught her before she hit the floor and sat her down on the couch.

Coahtu suddenly reappeared in front of Misaki and uncharacteristically slapped her.

"How dare you." The words dripped with distaste.

Misaki smirked, the first sign of emotion since her current form. She slowly turned her head back to the front and stared up at the infuriated Coahtu.

"Don't provoke me." Misaki's voice was cold, her smirk frozen in place, "You've done enough damage today. Go away."

Hiei and Kurama felt out of place as the two titans glared at each other.

"Don't ever do that again." Coahtu said finally, breaking the contest and leaving in her usual way.

Misaki blinked a couple of times before leaning back against the couch.

"What exactly are you never supposed to do again?" Kurama wondered.

"I was forcing them all to do what they did. Unfortunately for me, I couldn't concentrate on all of them and the two of you at the same time."

"Sloppy." Hiei criticized, meaning the mechanicalness of the two guy's movements.

Misaki shrugged one shoulder.

"Kurama you can stop hovering over me. I'm fine."

Kurama had his doubts, "You need to rest." He insisted.

"Which I can't do with the two of you acting as though I'm going to die any second." She sighed, "I don't suppose there's any way I can get you two to leave me alone..."

The looks they gave her were almost identical and Misaki weakly chuckled.

"How do you plan on sleeping when you can't?" Hiei crossed his arms.

Misaki cringed. When she had talked with Kurama about the Elements, she had managed to leave her part in it out. Hiei had stumbled across the subject within her head but she never had any intention of telling him about it.

"You told me that the other Elements couldn't sleep. And yet you left yourself out of that narration. I had guessed as much but wasn't positive such comments included you" There was a hard edge in Kurama's words. "You did happen to mention that they could sleep under particular circumstances."

"Hiei can tell you."

"You tell me."

"I haven't slept yet." She lied, meaning she hadn't figured out what made her feel safe.

"Yes you have." Hiei seemed a little smug.

The look Misaki shot Hiei didn't faze him in the slightest.

"Go eat some of that stupid ice cream you like, would you?" Misaki snapped.

Hiei's crimson eyes flickered, "What?"

"Iced cream? Sweet snow? That refrigerator can give you any type of food you want..." She left it hanging, seeing the understanding spring to life in his face.

Hiei disappeared and the refrigerator door banged open, then the door to his and Kurama's room flew open as he shot past it, little more than a brief dark blur. The bedroom door closed behind him. Misaki thought she could hear the window open as well but she wasn't sure.

"That was a smooth subject change but you didn't answer my question." The King of smooth subject changes noticed.

Misaki made a face, "I'll be fine, go to bed."

Kurama shook his head in refusal, "If there is someway for you to fall asleep, what is it? I'll help in any way that I can." He sat down next to her.

Misaki saw that he truly wanted to help. Forget seeing it, she could feel it radiating from him.

"I can't. You and Hiei will easily win your matches tomorrow so mine won't matter anyway."

"Look me in the eyes and tell me that you don't know how you can sleep and I'll let you be."

Misaki bit her lip before turning to him, almost breaking her straight face as she saw what she had felt deep in his eyes. Why? How could he even... How long had she known and yet tried to ignore it? She resisted the urge to look away, "I don't know how I can fall asleep."

Kurama stared at her for a long time before he stood up.

"Alright. Fair enough." He was angry with her, knowing that Hiei had no reason to lie. He nodded to her slightly and went into his and Hiei's room, flicking off the lights and shutting the refrigerator door before he left.

Misaki sat in the darkness, her eyes closed. She concentrated on moving. All of the muscles everywhere screamed when she tried to relax them. And yet her limbs trembled because of the strain they forced by remaining tense. She had managed to stand at Coahtu's command but that had been earlier... Her body had been given time to realize the sort of 'new' condition it was in. New body, new muscles...new pain...

Little beads of sweat formed on her arms as she strained to regain control over her body. Finally she moved one of her toes, but it would take hours just to be able to stand and days to even partially recover her strength.

She pushed the later part of that thought away. Standing would be a miracle and maybe she would be able to walk. Being carried into the ring for her battle would be beyond humiliation.

--

For the fourth time, Misaki heard a bedroom door open and then the refrigerator door open, the light shining briefly before going out. That would be Hiei on what was probably his eighth gallon of ice cream if he carried one in each arm.

Misaki grimaced, hoping that it wouldn't have an effect on his battle the next day.

"Misaki?"

"Mm?" She didn't open her eyes; she was close to moving all of her right foot from the ankle down. Her recovery would be effortless with sleep, even an hour and she could regain control over her movement.

"Misaki...I'm sorry..." She felt someone sit down next to her.

She didn't answer, though it wasn't out of spite. She truly was close...just a little more...

"Misaki are you okay?"

A hand cupped her face, turning it to the right, and she heaved a sigh, all concentration lost.

"What do you need Kurama?" She could barely see the outline of his face in the dark.

"I...I was going to tell you that I'm going out." He stood up again.

"Alright." Her eyes shut, she heard light footsteps heading to the door.

Misaki ungracefully fell to the right—on purpose—and struggled to pull her legs up on the couch below her. She barely managed to succeed and she lay still, exhausted just from that simple effort.

Even in the absence of light, her white hair gleamed. Lacking the strength to even change its color, Misaki hated the feeling of powerlessness.

Only half-conscious, she heard a door open and close. Two strong arms lifted her up, one under her knees and the other at her back, and carried her off. She resisted a scream as soon as she was touched, her muscles did not want to be even brushed by the slightest of winds.

By this time, Misaki couldn't even lift her arms to wrap them around her carrier's neck and her eyes refused to open. She just rested her head against the warm chest.

Misaki slipped in and out of the realization of things around her, perceiving that she was lying on top of a soft bed and there was someone next to her who pulled her close. She felt her hand taken from her side and the fingers placed over a heart.

Immediately from the cadence of the beat, Misaki knew who it was. Her ears latched on to the sound almost hungrily. She was vaguely aware of a hand that rested on her neck but the heart's beat was steady and strong and her body welcomed the pulse's pull into a deep sleep.

--

Ice sat deep within the cavern, head bent over his work. Beads of sweat rested along his body, creating a fine sheen that shimmered in the pool of light shining down from a hole in the ceiling.

The ice he was sculpting smoothly formed underneath his patient hands as he roamed the near-perfect surface, fingers searching for irregularities, nicks and cracks. Even as he found such chips in the ice, he filled them in, running the tips of his fingers repeatedly over the spot until it no longer held any imperfection that placed it apart from the rest of the art.

Ice sat up, the light catching the finished sculpture, reflecting through, changing colors and refracting onto the icy walls of the cave.

His hands retained their normal skin color, though he had worked hours on end. Ice was his element, he was Ice; so the effects that such sub-zero temperatures could create did not affect him.

Each wondrous curve of the crystal dragon shown smooth, every scale fashioned to a perfect fit as its long sinuous body curled in and out and through and forward and back on itself, an elongated version of the Chinese legend, complete with two long whiskers hanging from either side of its mouth.

"It...It's beautiful."

Ice's work so engrossed him that another walked up while the sculpture took form under his careful eye without him realizing it.

Aldeve stood a few feet from the light, wrapped tightly in heavy clothing intended to keep the biting chill from freezing her.

The golden-eyes flecked with bronze that Aldeve loved so much beckoned her forward, closer to the finished product.

Eldred complained when Aldeve introduced the newest addition to the family, claiming that the eyes were odd. All of those before Ice had physical features that exactly echoed the element they came from. But then Aldeve changed that, loving the color of an owl's eyes she had seen peering at her in the night. And so when Ice was brought into a human form, she made his eyes thus. It pleased her and nothing else mattered. Eldred was proud of the girl nonetheless.

Aldeve and Ice were close, as close as a brother and sister could be. There was a deep bond that formed between those who were created and those who helped create them. Of course then time spent together while the former was weak merely amplified the already present bond.

Focusing on the sculpture and its serene beauty, such thoughts continued to flit through Aldeve's mind.

Ice's features sharply contrasted that of his piece of work. His face was chiseled and cut, similar to the way ice often seemed brutal, and yet at the same time flowing together exactly as his sculptures did.

His hair was silver, though in the light the short spikes were a mirror image of what was happening currently to the ice.

Despite all of the beautiful colors that emanated from ice when the light hit it, his favorite color was green; the color of trees and grass and such emeralds found under ground.

He was perfect, of course. Aldeve created him that way. Except for that silly fear of heights he had...

A small frown creased Aldeve's face. She worried about her brother. Despite the bond, or perhaps because of it, as a sister it pained her to see him so alone, content to spend his time sitting in the light far within his cavern, sculpting the masterpieces that came as a result of such hours spent. As was the common rule for Elements, the created would become a creator, forming their own bond with an element turned Element. From Eldred came Stefen, and from Stefen came Aldeve and Coahtu. Coahtu was away, stationed as the Oracle and therefore couldn't create, and Aldeve had discovered the spirit within the ice.

But now it was Ice's turn...and yet nothing came from him. The circle could not stop with him; Aldeve could almost feel other consciousness coming from the strange world around them, didn't he? She was not gifted with the ability to sense the heart of the elements and even she had found Ice. Had this fault passed from her to him only more so? Was he truly to be the last of their kind to be awakened?

Aldeve couldn't help but smile as Ice showed her the intricacies of the sculpture, seeing how truly fulfilling making it was. How much more he could be fulfilled if only he created his finest work: that of another Element!

But who was she to denounce such beauty? Aldeve showered radiant compliments onto the art while Ice nodded, quietly agreeing with every word. Then she left.

Ice was returned to his solitude, a sense of accomplishment embedded deep in his soul.

The other Elements never questioned his singularity. They knew as well as he that when one was surrounded by their element, they were never truly alone. But Ice had a secret, one none of the others, not even Aldeve, knew about.

"Do you like it?" He asked the emptiness around him.

He felt something brush his hand and a sense of complete and utter affirmation washed over him.

There was a presence here in the cave he had created so long ago, a safe haven were he could work without bother.

Ice hummed to himself while he moved the dragon out of the light, pulling a second block of ice onto the short ledge in front of him.

She—Ike had always considered the presence female—asked what he was going to create next. At least, that was the impression he received from her. She couldn't speak in the literal air passing over the vocal chords and exiting the mouth way—due to the fact that she obviously didn't have a human form. But as she touched his skin, he received images, emotions that trickled into his mind as colors and feelings. He could talk aloud, and somehow without ears she was able to hear and understand, but her responses always came from within, forming under his mind's eye. She was a master at getting her point across, a master of such artwork needed to do so, and Ice never had trouble understanding her.

"You'll just have to wait and see." He told her.

The truth was he never knew exactly what would decide to emerge from the blocks he started out with.

He began etching at the cube, absently chunking away large pieces—the small work did not begin until a form came.

She watched patiently, excited somehow though she had watched the same start numerous times before. There was never a set picture in his head before he began sculpting. She would know. When in contact with his skin, she could read his thoughts, see his past, encounter memories and the like.

The light danced about his block and almost guided his hands as the pieces were removed. Ice could have just as easily held an image in his head and then poofed the image into the ice. He knew without even trying that approach that there was no satisfaction in such ways. And so he continued, the presence breathlessly awaiting what would emerge.

--

-lotsm