He looked around awkwardly, hoping he wouldn't have to talk to her long. Adults made him nervous; they always seemed to expect the worst out of him.

Kuwabara peered at the mantelpiece, where Shiori and Kazuya displayed their sons' school pictures, from the very first. He couldn't help but laugh at a younger Kurama, and when Shiori reappeared with his tea, she smiled at him.

"I'm sure his old pictures are amusing for you, aren't they?"

Kuwabara thanked her and took his cup. "Yes, ma'am. He looks pretty hilarious with short hair!"

"You think so?" She sat and gestured he do the same. "I think I prefer his hair shorter. I liked it somewhat when he first began to let it grow, but I would not mind if he decided to keep it a bit more . . . respectable."

Kuwabara almost choked on his tea. "Respectable? Your son is the most mature one of the group. I can't believe his mother thinks he looks like a punk, heh heh!"

Shiori chuckled. "Every parent must suffer through these teenage years, I suppose. Maybe he'll grow out of this rock-star phase. I'm sure you give your parents something to talk about, don't you?"

"Oh, man," said Kuwabara, leaning back into his seat. "Actually, the one who gives me the most grief is my sister. She thinks just because she hasn't landed a great job yet that she's a loser, and she doesn't want me to end up like her."

"But that's sweet," said Shiori with a polite smile. "I'm sure that once you ease her mind, she'll turn her attention to her own interests, and when that happens, she'll succeed."

"Yeah, I hope so."

They sat silently for a moment, wondering what to say.

"I'm sorry that Suichi missed you," Shiori said finally. "He's been going to that temple very often recently. My husband is worried that he misses so much school, and he hopes that Kokoda does not take after that behavior. Though the way I see it, Suichi must be very lonely. They always told me he was a genius. He certainly didn't get that from me or his father!" She laughed and folded her hands in her lap, picking at a scar. "I know that he needs his time alone, and I try to encourage his outings with you and the rest of your group. I just never knew how to handle a child with that—"

"Spirit Energy?" Kuwabara stuttered. "I mean spirit or energy. That's what I meant."

"Ah, exactly. Suichi continues to bring home top grades. His manners have gotten so much better these past few years, and he and I are very close. I can't ask for anything more, and so I don't think it's wrong to allow him his space."

Kuwabara stuttered, then nodded. "He's definitely a loner. Him and Hiei are both so quiet, I don't get it. Do they even have conversations?"

"I truly think Suichi's friends and meditating at that temple have had a positive effect on him."

"Uh, right. Maybe I should leave."

Shiori quirked a brow. "Why are you suddenly uncomfortable?"

He forced a grin and scratched at his neck. "Well see, I had my birthday party at the temple a few weeks ago, and my girlfriend was taking pictures, and, don't get me wrong, Kura—ack!" Kuwabara faked a cough. "Excuse me. That is, Suichi does go to the temple to meditate and exercise and stuff, but he might have been a little distracted that weekend."

"You don't say."

"Oh, well it wasn't like alcohol or anything if that's what you're thinking. Gah!" Kuwabara smacked himself in the forehead. "Please don't get nervous, ma'am. I don't mean to say these stupid things." He withdrew an envelope from his jacket and handed it to her.

"What's this?"

"We don't have anything to hide. Those are the pictures of him and—"

"Oh, it's Botan! My, my." Shiori flipped through the photographs, eyes flitting over her son, his spiritual mentor, his odd little friend Hiei, and his moments beside Botan. "Well these are very cute. It was so kind of you to copy these for hi—" She landed on the last picture, her son entwined with the blue-haired girl outside.

"Uh, yeah, I think I'll go now."

"No, please," Shiori said, putting her hand up but not looking away from the photo. "I beg your pardon, Kazuma. My son doesn't talk about his feelings much, and it's a bit startling to see him like that." When she met Kuwabara's face again, she had tears in her eyelashes.

"I'm sorry," Kuwabara said. "I didn't know it'd make you sad. I shouldn't have come."

"Not at all!" She smiled, and the tears fell. "I'm so happy that you did. To know that he cares for someone in this way is a treasure to me."

Kuwabara smiled back.

#

Botan flipped open the Communication Mirror.

"This is the great and powerful Koenma speaking. Do you copy?"

"Yes, sir," Botan said. "How are things going over there?"

Koenma's face was lined. "Not well. We've learned that we have DNA only from Kurama's human form. If he switches to the Yoko one, we won't know if he comes here or not!"

"Roger that, sir, and I'm having the same problem. Once I got my bearings over here, my stupid Compass started to malfunction!" She lifted her wrist to the Mirror, catching the Compass' spinning arrow in Koenma's feed. "I can't get a solid direction, and I really doubt that Kurama's just evaporated into the ether."

Koenma worried his pacifier. "Yes, it would appear that Kurama has changed forms. There's nothing you can do in Demon World, now. Best to come ba—"

"Aah!"

Koenma's screen went black for a moment, refocusing on a disheveled and bruised Botan. "What the heck happened just now? You gave me and Jorge a couple of heart attacks!"

"You poor dears," drawled the Soul Ferrier, pulling a twig from her ponytail. "My branch broke! I thought Demon World trees were stronger than that!"

Koenma crossed his arms. "They're no stronger than our trees, but you still might consider an exercise routine—get that blood pumping and those thighs a-shrinking! Ha ha!"

Botan cried out in disgust, hanging up on her boss. The surrounding area was only forest, but it was a sensible place for Kurama to be; in any case, it was about where he'd arrived, according to the Compass. She stood, brushing herself off and materializing her oar.

"Get my blood pumping, I'll get his blood pumping! My thighs are trim and slim, I say—"

The thought of blood struck her, and she dug into her pack.

#

Kurama noted how much worse the place looked. It may have served him once, but even eighteen years in Demon World was significant: the stronghold was withered and hollow now, with its mighty towers rising, broken, into the angry sky.

Glowing eyes combed the courtyard. The ancient tree growing from circle of earth in the center was somehow eerier than in the days he spent caring for it; the branches seemed to hunch over the little enclosure allotted to it, at once mourning its cage and daring the unwary invade it.

Kurama stepped forward, pressing a pair of fingers into the soil. "You are shriveled with thirst, old friend," he said. "Yet your soil has been watered."

He continued forward, sending a sprouted seed into the lock to fit the tumblers and open the door.

Kurama remembered this room.

The stairs broke away in the shadow midway down, catching the majority of looters in the uneven, forest-like floor. The only light came from a window high above him and the hallway behind the scorpion standing sentinel, his tail poised to strike.

Kurama dodged the stinger by jumping off the side of the staircase and into the demon's nest of cleaned bones. The step he'd just left was now rubble.

"Why struggle when you could have it painless?" the scorpion hissed.

Kurama somersaulted from the demon's next blow, flicking rose to whip. The scorpion gasped, his cruel eyes widening.

"It can't be you," he said.

Kurama's demon form was silhouetted in the light from the window, lightning flashing as the scorpion smirked.

"I've returned at last, Hamaki."

"It can't be," the scorpion replied, raising his tail again. "You're an imposter."

"Attack at your own peril," Kurama said. "I will show you no mercy."

Bands of energy tightened around Hamaki's deadly tail, startling him and Kurama. They turned their eyes to the shadow at the balustrade, a fanged smile winking in the storm-light.

#

The arrow stiffened on a direction when she'd put Kurama's bloody note into the Compass' chamber. His energy print thrived in his blood, and no matter which form he took, it would lead Botan right to him.

She'd followed his trail for a little over six hours, now; each time she thought she was close, the Compass would point a little to the east or north, indicating a longer journey. At least the signal was getting stronger; if it weren't for that, she'd have stopped and made camp already. The storm wasn't helping matters.

As she crested a knoll, the broken towers of a stronghold grew out of the horizon; she knew as soon as she saw it. It was precisely the kind of place she'd picture whenever Kurama would share stories of his thieving days.

Botan landed at the entrance after making a few laps; she'd seen no guards, but she really hated the look of that jagged old tree. Her lower body tingled as the blood rushed through neglected limbs, and her gait was wobbly and slow.

Anyone would think her crazy as she pressed her back against the rough stone wall in order to pass the sentinel tree as far from it as possible; yet the signal on her wrist assured her that Kurama was within. She had complete faith in him, and he would never harm her intentionally, but the tree might simply attack any living thing around it.

Botan finally breathed when she closed the door behind her. She thought she heard arguing farther inside. She hesitated at the crest of the stairs, straining her ears, but the echoes of the voices muddled the words; she began her descent, picking her way past rubble and root.

"—to me, Kurama!"

Botan heard that much, and mention of him startled her; she looked up from her path to find an opening to Kurama's direction, and her foot slipped through the gap before her, her scream engulfing the other voices as she stumbled to the ground beneath the steps.

That wasn't even the worst of it.

A rumble shook her heart, and Botan's eyes caught a mound of earth shifting before her, stretching, uncoiling, rising to its full wretched height. One massive claw snaked around her middle, plucking her up to its fiery eyes.

Botan tried to scream, hoping Kurama might hear and come to help, but her breath was crushed from her; she had no choice. Botan summoned her oar and swung it with all her strength, hoping the demon wouldn't clench his claws upon impact and rip her in two.

She was caught before she knew she was falling, and they were moving, racing away from the thrashing scorpion. When at last she looked up into his face, her breath tickled in her breast; she had known to expect him in this form, yet her memory had done him an injustice, recalling him simply as a demon.

Botan had no time to catch a fitting word for him as he was, for the other echo had manifested on the floor above them, sneering at the calming scorpion.

"She isn't even a warrior, Hamaki," she said with ice. She turned to Kurama and Botan. "It's all plain to me now." And she turned back to the hallway, slipping from sight as naturally as a shadow.

Botan suddenly lurched in Kurama's arms, fire coursing through the veins in her ankle.

Kurama failed to get words from her, and so, steps snapping against the cobbles, paced down a corridor to the dining hall, hearth still crackling with warmth. He set her on the table, knocking a bottle of cheap wine away and sending off a trio of straggling drinkers. The demons left with scoffs in their eyes, roasted legs on their mouths, and half-empty bottles under their arms.

Botan cried out when Kurama's fingers grazed her fast-swelling ankle. "What are you doing?"

Kurama's silver hair had fallen around him, blocking his hands from her view. "Getting your shoe off."

He spoke with a roughness that had never suited Suichi. Botan hoped it was only the pitch of his voice that made him sound grumpy, but the longer he worked without speaking to her, the more she thought he was upset . . . with her.

Another pang, and Botan whimpered, though she wished she hadn't. "Why does it hurt now? It happened ten minutes ago!"

Kurama's explanation came from his lips reluctantly. "The adrenaline is wearing off." He was ripping something that made her jump, but he looked up at her almost kindly, two halves of a ragged towel in either hand. "It's only a sprain."

"I've never had one this bad." She tensed as he began to wrap her ankle.

"Am I hurting you?"

She furrowed her brow, taking note of the hottest pain and the press of his fingers. "No," she said finally. "It hurts, but not from you."

"It was quick to swell, but maybe it'll be quick to heal, too." Kurama went to the fire and emptied what remained in the pot, then set about fixing some concoction.

"What are you making over there?"

Kurama glanced up between chops. "A painkiller."

"But I saw you put salt in it."

He chuckled, and Botan liked the way a pointed tooth peeked out of his handsome mouth. "Actually, it's sugar. I don't want to make you drink something unpleasant yet again."

She rested her chin over her hand on the chair, watching him in silence until she heard a distant groan. "Oh. Kurama?"

He raised his eyebrows but kept his concentration on his potion.

"Will you make enough for Hamaki too?"

Kurama nodded once, a grin growing. "You didn't think to call for me instead? You're capable in many things, but subtlety is not one."

"No, I thought to alright, but Hamaki squeezed me too hard. So I panicked and—well, now I feel really bad about it all. He was only doing his job."

"You jumped straight to violence. Too much time spent with Yusuke?" Kurama flicked his tongue against the spoon and nodded.

"Don't be jealous," Botan said, taking the cup he offered. "You didn't forget Hamaki, did you?"

He held up a bowl in response and strode out. When he returned, Botan had just finished the tonic.

"How was it?" he asked.

"Not completely awful." She coughed. "Is there any water?"

Kurama stifled a laugh, and when he'd given her her fill, he grew serious again. "Why did you come here?"

She stuck out her tongue. "You first."

"I thought that was obvious."

"Do you mean that little fortune-sized riddle?" Botan faked a laugh. "What a joker."

"I suppose," Kurama began, pressing a hand to a chair back, "I didn't make it obvious enough." He realized suddenly how the painkiller's effects were taking their toll; he could have dodged her slap, which was usually quick as lightning.

"You're just like everyone else, aren't you?" she slurred. "I might mess up here and there, but it's not because I'm stupid. Everyone thinks I'm stupid."

"No," he said, and she was taken aback. "Careless—lazy or trusting, perhaps. Never stupid."

"How on earth am I lazy? Have you seen my workload?" She gasped. "You have! You have some nerve, buster."

Kurama caught her wrist mid-swing this time. "Yes, lazy. If you'd contemplated the words I gave you, we wouldn't be here right now."

Botan's face darkened around her eyes, which never left his. "I figured out your stupid note, even if it was practically illegible."

"I wrote that message in the dark so that I, and any invisible onlooker, may not see it."

Botan warped back to Spirit World, when Kurama had told her "Writing is difficult after 'lights out.'" She held up her clenched hand, unlocking the Compass chamber beneath. "Maybe because your brain is so—" She grumbled. "—so complex, I over-think when I have to deal with you. So I thought this little stunt with the rose, when you pricked your finger, was a hint for me to come find you. Now I know it was for me to put in the alarms for Koenma. Spirit World would know when you return. Well I wouldn't have done it, Kurama. That's only for criminals."

Kurama was getting too close, his hands curling into fists draped over the chairs beside him. "I predicted as much," he said. "The blood was not for you to follow me. Not for you to put into the alarms. Only as a last resort, perhaps. Its true purpose was to show that I was honest with you."

Botan softened, hanging her head. "You were giving me the power to do either."

"But I wanted you to do nothing." He tensed when her forehead came to rest against his collar bone.

"So when will you be coming home?" she asked with her eyes drooping.

He cradled her head beneath her ponytail, knowing the intimacy was only Botan's sense of propriety and professionalism slipping with her consciousness. "I was still speaking with Meinuko when you arrived. I'm afraid she thought I had led the SDF here."

"Nope," Botan yawned. "Just Botan."

And Kurama lifted her again to put her to bed, where he guarded her through the night.

#

There you go, kids, the longest chapter yet. I hope it was worth the wait! Thanks so much for sticking around, newcomers and those who've been here from the beginning. I appreciate every hit, review, and message I get. It's a labor of love, and if I can make others happy with it, it's a good day.

Henceforth I'll try to update every month with a significant number of words; I'm unsure yet whether I'll make them two chapters like I've been doing or if I'll lengthen the chapters to resemble this one. I guess we'll see!

Give me some suggestions about what you'd like to see in the next chapter! It's still quite unfinished, and I want to give you what you want. Send me a line or two! You won't regret it.

Unless you want to.

Stop it, this isn't horror.

I watched LOTR recently, can you tell?

AND NEVAH COME BACK

I am trying to be sorry. Follow the fic to see if I sober up. Spoilers: not gon' happen.