Chapter Two: "The Space Between Heartbeats"
"Tell me, Hiei," Kurama murmured, careful not to completely breach the forest's heavy silence. "Do you have the same suspicion that we are being followed?"
He glanced at their surroundings, stepping in Kuwabara's wake, using his footpaths to tread as soundlessly as possible. All seemed undisturbed, peaceful. Quiet. But that was a lie.
The forest was so, so alive.
Above, so far above, the wind trilled amongst the treetops. Below, the forest was nothing but silence, nothing but green, and nothing but an army of shadows. The foliage, thick and abundant, from moss to hanging veils of ivy to vivid outbursts of flora, felt more encompassing than the stillness. Even the trees, Kurama heeded, were imposing—like sentinels, watching their progress, so large and numerous with trunks so ancient that time had gnarled them together.
Had the forest not felt so unnatural, he might have felt at home amongst the greenery.
But they were not alone.
Yes, I feel it.
Kurama felt the familiar weight of Hiei's brusque voice in his head and noted the familiar tone of indifference within it as well. This should have pacified him; if Hiei was bored then there was nothing to truly caution. Still, unease prickled his fingertips, and responded so quietly that his lips barely parted.
"It seems to possess a strange energy."
Hiei's responding scoff was flippant and nearly soundless, but Kurama couldn't decipher whether it was caused by Kuwabara tripping unceremoniously over a knotted tree root and squawking, or in response to his observation. He glanced behind, however, and saw that Hiei's eyes scanned the forest under a low, foreboding brow.
Hn, there is no reason for caution. Its spirit energy may be strange, but it is pathetically weak.
Strange, yes.
Weak? No.
Not entirely.
Kurama took a moment to listen to the forest's silence. He heard the soft crunch of his feet treading upon the carpeting undergrowthmbut could not perceive Hiei's following footfall. Yusuke and Kuwabara were beginning to argue, but quietly enough that it was not difficult to tune them out.
Soon, all he heard was silence ringing in his ears.
And it was...disquieting.
Unnerving.
Strange, he decided, because all his senses were pulling instinctively towards the presence that followed them. Kurama's fingertips prickled with discomfort once more. This instinct worried him, this presence, for it had begun the moment they had stepped into the forest. It was innate, energized, a pressure in his mind that he could not describe nor shake off.
Deep inside himself, something growled savagely. Warily.
His body may not be old, but Yoko was. Within his lifetime he had encountered hundreds of demons, thousands, multitudes of various races, sometimes thieving their belongings and sometimes thieving their souls. Now, however, his finely tuned intuition could not completely read this solitary demon's aura. It felt wrong. Strange. Weak, perhaps, but nearly undetectable with its wavering. It was not the full onslaught one could read from a demon, their energy feeling more like an eruption of heat than anything else. This, however, was entirely different.
It was a whispering in his mind, in a language of energy he did not know.
Perhaps it was not the forest's silence that was spectral, but originated from this whispering presence.
Kurama's gaze flitted from tree to tree, but all was quiet.
"Perhaps, though it's unlike anything I've encountered," he said, pausing as he listened to the forest. "Yet there is always reason to act with caution, Hiei, and we should be wary nonetheless. Can you see this demon?"
There was a long silence. When he spoke, Hiei's voice was almost sullen.
No, and I cannot read its feeble mind either. This forest is under a pall of magic. Dark magic. My Jagan can't see through its haze. If we should be wary of anything, we should be wary of that. All the same, whatever manner of creature that lurks behind us won't linger much longer.
The hairs on the back of Kurama's neck rose at the thought.
"Should we tell the others?"
He heard Hiei's faint snort from behind, but the derision in his tone was much more dominant.
Leave the detective and his fool to their bickering. If it's one of the demons we hunt, it won't be long before it fails miserably in its attempt to ambush us.
Kurama nearly smiled. Yusuke and Kuwabara's heated argument had progressed in abundance, leaving the former to clench his fists in white-knuckled aggravation and the later to raise his voice, octave by octave, until a flock of birds roosted in a nearby tree were spooked away. Then Kurama sighed, sensing that their own stratagem of silence was coming to an end.
If only that was all he sensed.
"Agreed," he said, taking a deep breath of the forest's earthy musk, feeling the presence following them even more closely. "It's best if we feign ignorance to bait it out."
Hn.
Kurama was about to reply when Kuwabara's fist abruptly sailed towards the back of Yusuke's head. There was a loud thwack! and Yusuke stumbled over a large plant the color reminiscent of Botan's hair, with pink stigmas to match.
"Urameshi!"
Yusuke rose slowly, turning to level a poisonous glare at Kuwabara. Through clenched teeth, however, his voice was dead even. "Kuwabara."
"Urameshi!"
"Kuwabara."
"URAMESHI!" Kuwabara barked, fists quivering.
Yusuke cracked an impish grin. "Kuwabara."
Kuwabara gurgled angrily in his throat and raised his fist again, aiming for Yusuke's head. Moving to block the oncoming attack, Yusuke's eyes widened when Kuwabara had shifted at the last moment, sending his left fist to wallop Yusuke in the chest. The detective went down, spraying fallen leaves in his wake. Kuwabara stood over him, crossing his arms together.
"Hey man, you listen to me when I say your name!"
Yusuke struggled upright, a halo of leaves sticking in his hair. He glowered at Kuwabara and shoved him back. "I was you overgrown jackal!"
"I know what you're doing," Kuwabara narrowed his eyes accusingly, then jabbed Yusuke in the chest. "You're just trying to annoy me as a distraction so that I forget to ask for a break."
Yusuke sniggered. "Really, Kuwabara? Wow. Allow me to guess which part of your anatomy that twisted logic came from."
"Shut it, Urameshi," Kuwabara growled. "I'm serious. Break time. We've been walking around in this dark, creepy forest for hours and all this walking is starting to make me all dizzy. Probably from you leading us in circles."
Yusuke rolled his eyes. "Cool it, Gigantor. It can't be much further."
Kurama chuckled lightly, having stepped aside when Kuwabara was shoved behind, and could see Hiei gritting his teeth with vexation in his periphery.
"Yusuke is right, Kuwabara. The faster we find the crag demons, the faster we will leave this forest. But I agree with you as well. This forest... it is unsettling. It appears the shadows possess shadows," he said as Yusuke yanked leaves out of his hair. Then Kurama looked behind him. "Right, Hiei?"
But the fire demon had stiffed, looking out into the forest. Kurama could clearly see his muscles tense together, hard and taut and defined, one hand raised with a warrior's readiness over his katana hilt. Hiei's eyes were tapered, and before Kurama could say a word he too braced himself as a blast of spirit energy erupted from all around them.
Then, a branch snapped.
Kurama, watch out!
Hiei's eyes were locked ahead, and Kurama moved swiftly aside as a sharp whistling pierced the forest's silence, a large stone arrow landing deep into the earth in front of Kuwabara.
Kurama poised himself, alert, and he was about to speak when he sensed movement in the tree before them. But Hiei was faster, much faster, whose eyes were already focused ahead. Kurama barely heard his seethed words as Hiei glared into the hub of the tree, smiling darkly.
"Found you."
— — —
It happened within the space between heartbeats.
In that moment, all was silent. Nothing moved. Nothing but the stone arrow that quivered within its bed in the earth, though it felt like another had pierced through her chest and burrowed itself into the tree's trunk, fixing her into place.
His glare, the strange red eyes, remained locked onto her.
For a long, harrowing moment, she could not move. Then instinct coursed like fire through her veins, allowing her to crouch low onto the branch, fingernails digging deep into the ancient tree. She gnashed her teeth together, because now she could not breathe.
His glare was not wavering, and she could not look away.
Her lungs shuddered painfully under the weight of the glare. Conflicting sensations embattled each other, pulsating with each breath she labored for, something that felt reminiscent of terror and something that kindled the magnetism towards the red irises. But most of all, it was something crouching and coiling within itself, within her, ready to pounce—no matter the cost—in the act to safeguard the forest.
Breathing deeply, she returned the glare, digging her nails deeper into the bark.
The red eyes narrowed, deadly and aflame. Like the manifestation of unbridled power, like the firestorm that had once ran rampant and scorched thousands of trees into thick, grey dust. Like the forest itself, strong and dangerous and so alive. His eyes tapered again, watching her, searing and cold at the same time.
She growled deep within the back of her throat.
But then the red-haired creature spoke, and her eyes flitted towards him and the instinct to defend herself momentarily cooled from her fingertips. And, despite herself, she cocked her head to the side as she listened, absorbed once again despite the surging ire from the red eyes still on her. His voice was low and harmonious and urgent, speaking in words she could not understand, but were now—somehow—beginning to sound familiar.
"...the crag demons...level the playing field. Quick! ...return to the forest clearing..."
Her eyes widened, replaying the strange words in her head, and relished the understanding of them. But the second she took to savor the words and sound of this creature's voice was a second she did not have. Another arrow pierced the airwaves, and then another, all penetrating deep into the forest's vegetation near their feet. She dropped onto her branch, her back arching with caution.
And they ran.
Within a moment, they were gone.
She followed them as before, ghosting their progress so quietly because she was one with the forest's infinite murk. But they were fast. Surprisingly fast, blindingly fast. She grinned to herself, the muscles in her body tensing and releasing and propelling her forward, enjoying the exhilaration of the chase.
Once again, even in the height of a nameless threat, her curiosity grew.
They may have been fast, but she had memorized the forest in the way the forest had memorized her. She slid from branch to branch, familiar with the way the trees' branches twisted together to form bridges between themselves, creating thick canopies of leaves that shielded the forest from the wind above. The wind may not have been permitted, but she followed them like a silent gale, fluidly gliding from one tree to another, tracking their movement through the spaces between leaves and grinning even more wildly when she had to halt because she had surpassed their progress.
And she watched him. The energy radiating off him was like before, wild and threateningly strong, surging and quaking even more as he ran. It was evident that he was restraining himself of his true speed, and her curiosity wondered just how powerful he truly was. Her fingertips prickled at the thought.
They slowed, having backtracked to the forest clearing she had previously followed them from, and she smiled again, admiring their cunning.
She jumped from a branch, grasping a vine and swinging across towards the tree closest to them, arching high into the air before landing on the balls of her feet. When they came to a full stop, their backs to her, she clung onto the branch, waiting.
Their muscles were all taut, shoulders raised and ready, feet set apart. The leader's chest rose and fell as he panted, the orange-head clenching his fists. All was silence once more, the forest resuming its soundless, spectral tune.
And they waited.
She crouched low, breaking the line of sight behind the tree's bladed leaves when the red-head glanced behind. When her branch began to sway, she glanced above, far above, to see that the wind soared forcefully amongst the treetops, promising a leviathan of a storm to come.
And then her skin prickled.
Hot and then cold.
Familiar and strange.
She felt the heat of the red eyes before she saw them, and when she glanced back they had once again pierced through the tree's cloak of shadows and discovered her. Her breath hitched, disbelieving, and she gripped the branch tightly, but refused to break contact.
His eyes narrowed, and her nostrils flared.
Then, a different sort of menace ruptured the silence, rendering her completely immobile.
A raw, quaking roar broke throughout the forest, its echoing aftershock rippling across the trees. She clenched onto her branch as it rocked from side to side, knuckles bloodless, her heart pounding so rapidly against her chest that it nearly unsettled her equilibrium. Instinct pulled ruthlessly at her to flee rather than fight.
Fissinus, she closed her eyes with dread. Alpha.
Another roar sent the four strangers to form a circle, and she observed, more cautious now than curious, to see that each now had pulled out an apparatus to defend themselves. Her eyes narrowed. Warriors, she thought warily, watching as the leader held his wrist, pointing a finger readily as his eyes darted to every opening in the between trees.
The hairs on her arms raised, not because an alpha fissinus was near, but because the energy surrounding each of the strangers was amassing, more powerful than she had felt before, kindling like fire and searing against her own energy that she kept simmering at a careful level.
And then she sensed them—sensed them before she heard them—as it seemed the strangers did when their heads snapped towards her direction, but far below.
The horde of fissinus charged into the clearing, snarling and snapping viciously at each other's paws. They were large creatures, covered entirely in metallic blue scales, with fangs that descended far from their mouths, their claws twice as sharp. Long, reptilian tails lashed out into the air, snapping and cracking in intervals.
The forest's silence was no more.
Atop the fissinus were creatures much like her and the strangers. Their skin, conversely, was the color of storms, a dull gray, slate-like color that contrasted against the fissinus' cerulean scales. Peering closer, she realized that their skin was rock, their eyes large and glittering and entirely black. They sneered at the strangers, showing off serrated chips of teeth, and held strange wooden weapons in their grasps.
She growled, not only because these rock monsters, these vermin, rode the fissinus against their will, but that their stone-encrusted legs dug deep into their scaled sides. Seething, she watched as the jagged edges were wedging and splitting into the tender flesh beneath, drawing out rivulets of bright green blood.
There were more fissinus here than she had ever seen in one location, each mounted and each pulling against their roped constraints. One howled in pain as its rider kicked into its side.
She slowly reached up and unwrapped the bindings of her mask, glaring all the while at the monsters upon the fissinus, nearly forgetting entirely of the strangers. Anger, deep and foreboding and pure, ran rampant throughout her body, quaking her insides until her hands began to tremble. She set aside the mask, taking a deep breath, amassing her own energy into the core of her very spirit.
Trespassers, she fumed, and fought to restrain her wrath. Invaders.
Suddenly, the ground began to quake. From below branches snapped, swaying her perch, and another roar filled the clearing with tremor upon tremor. The fissinus instantly quieted, shifting upon their paws. She crouched low to her branch, ignoring another instinctual pang to flee and continued to focus her energy.
The alpha fissinus broke into the clearing below her tree, splintering the base of the trunk with ease as it galloped past. It halted in a rise of dust, spraying leaves as the creature's muscles quivered and settled, the blue fog that clung to the forest's floor swirling about its massive paws.
She held her breath, astounded at its sheer brute size, not having been this close to the alpha before.
It growled deep within its throat, a vibration that she could feel through her branch, and watched as its beady eyes rolled about in rage. The alpha roared once more, displaying rows of razor-sharp, yellowed teeth. Its fangs skimmed the ground.
Atop the alpha was the chief of the rock monsters. He, too, was a brute, a large mass of sentient stone that sat comfortably on his mount. In one hand he held a large stone club, the end encrusted in black jewels that tapered into lethal points. He was so large that his eyes looked like slits, but the packed stones of his body were littered with scars, bunched together like mounds of mountainous muscle.
She was not deceived, however. These monsters possessed a great energy, but it was nothing compared to the strangers.
The alpha stalked towards the four, ignoring the chief's kick to its side, and growled, snapping its tail with predatory instinct. It crouched low to the ground, limbs quivering with anticipation, tail coiling. But instead of pouncing forward to attack, the beast lurched to its hindquarters, roaring so deep and so high that is sounded more like booms of thunder than anything else.
She clasped her hands to her ears and gnashed her teeth against its deafening effect, watching as loose leaves shook and then fell to the ground, disappearing beneath the blue fog.
The signal had been made, and the pack of fissinus rushed forth to attack. The chief bellowed and raised his club in the air, mirth and bloodlust in his slotted eyes, as the alpha bounded forward.
As the dust rose, she could not see the battle begin.
Panic twisted inside her chest, but she did not take the time to ponder over it, but tried, instead, to penetrate through the dust and the fog, eyes flitting about the clearing. When she saw no flash of red, no incensed glare, she rumbled low in her chest and launched herself onto the branch far below her. She clung to the branch's very tip, swaying precariously, not realizing that her hands trembled with a strange, sudden apprehension.
It was not her forest's creatures that she feared for.
But then she scrambled backwards as a great, boundless energy emerged from the center of the clearing. A pinprick of bright light pulsated and then thundered, amassing until it dissolved the dust and the blue fog from its sphere of pure energy.
"Spirit gun!"
The blast was far greater than the alpha's roar. She felt the energy of it press against her face, sizzling like fresh embers against her skin, nearly blinding her and ripping away the air in her lungs. Her entire tree rocked in its place, the ancient bark creaking and groaning, and her branch shivered beneath her grasp. She gasped, astounded by the power of such an explosion.
Astounded that it had not only blown various fissinus and rock monsters to ash, but had dismounted the chief from the alpha.
As the dust and the fog resettled to the forest floor, the battled waged.
And she found him.
The result of the explosion had sent the alpha airborne. It had mewled in surprise, landing tumultuously onto a fallen tree. Now, however, it had risen to its feet, the golden strip of fur around its neck rising like hackles. It sauntered forward, claws digging deeply into the ground, muscles hard and rippling beneath its scales. The alpha growled menacingly, fangs tipped with blood.
Its bloodthirsty stare was locked with searing red eyes.
Her breath hitched. His power emanated off him in great waves, much like the leader's, but it was still different—still strange. It was scorching and blistering like the energy from an inferno, promising agony and an all-consuming destruction. His eyes were tapered, the black of his attire swathing him into the forest's shadows as he stared down the beast, on the outskirts of the clearing and far from the ensuing battle.
He was unharmed, but he bore a long shaft of silver in his hands. It glistened strangely in the forest's gloom but she knew that it was just as sharp of the alpha's fangs, tapering to a razor point and coveting death.
She closed her eyes, however, knowing that he was no match for the alpha. Her heart hammered in her chest, eyes beginning to sting. Opening them, she stared at the red, trying to memorize the shade she had never seen within her forest, trying to will him away from the beast that would toy with him and the slice him into filaments of flesh.
The alpha sauntered closer, and the stranger smirked.
Then, in one quiet moment, his eyes flicked towards her. And the red burst into flame, searing and scorching and brightening into a blistering heat. They narrowed, full of life and death and blood and power. Her fingertips prickled again, as though instinct was urging her to flee from such a blaze. But it was not that.
It was something entirely inexplicable. Something more.
The alpha had noticed this distraction, coiling and slinking toward him.
Her vision narrowed, the sound of the fight just as distant as the wind above the treetops. She growled, her senses sharpening as white-hot urgency rippled throughout her body. Inside, she was nothing more than unadulterated instinct—an instinct that was beginning to change. Tensing, amassing her energy into a swift, surging sphere of power inside of her, she leapt from the branch and launched herself towards the great fissinus.
Something quaked inside of her. All she saw was red, all she heard was blood swelling in her ears, and all she felt was a strange, absolute rage.
She landed on her feet, facing the alpha fissinus, and, crouched low, collected her spirit's power to manifest itself into a long staff in her hand. Her fingertips sizzled with energy, her insides trembling from its intensity. The bo staff glowed momentarily as a vibrant, colorless light, but settled into a hard-white wood, its grain appearing like veins of silver.
Alpha pounced, roaring.
Within a blink of the eye, she coiled and sprung, revolving the bo staff with blinding speed to gain momentum, and then thrust it towards the fissinus. The impact shuddered down her arm, the rounded point of her staff connecting at the base of the alpha's throat, halting it midair.
The beast dropped and croaked, breathing deeply as it struggled to its feet.
She remained crouched low, only faintly registering the inexplicable heat behind her.
The alpha leveled its gaze at her, the beast so large that when it shuddered, the muscles beneath its scales rippled like water, undulating from head to tail. She was barely larger than its fangs combined, which snapped upon its teeth with anger.
She seethed in response, nostrils flaring, daring the beast to move. When the alpha snarled, revealing more of its thorny fangs and nearly deafening her in the process, she inhaled deeply and snarled in return, one wild creature taunting the other, one alpha against another.
And the beast coiled itself, ready to pounce once more.
She felt movement behind her, the heat rolling against her skin, and it took everything within her not to glance behind. Instead, she allowed the heat to add to her resolve. Raw, unbridled instinct coursed through her veins again. Her limbs quivered from the sensation, and it was then that she realized what the prickling something more had been: the instinct to defend and protect. For a moment it felt as though her small body could not endure its accompanying adrenaline, that it would burst from her skin if she could not control it.
Her jaw tightened.
Before the alpha could pounce, she whirled the bo staff into a high arch, an extension of her limbs, and swiftly swept it across the forest floor to spray dirt into the beast's eyes. The alpha roared, clawing angrily at its face. Then, abruptly, it charged.
She crouched low, staff tightly gripped, eyes flitting for the alpha's remaining weak points.
But movement behind caught her off guard, splitting her concentration. For an instant, she felt warm breath fan across her back, then, suddenly, it vanished.
And it was too late.
The alpha fissinus was nearly upon her and her spry footwork was not fast enough when she pirouetted, guiding the staff to block the beast's attack. It snarled with rage and raked his claws across her back, carving deeply into her flesh with almost an artful precision.
She screamed through clenched teeth, faltering as pain racked her body. She stumbled, breathing deeply to gain control of herself, almost losing grip of the bo staff as her vision momentarily blackened.
When it cleared, and she glanced up, a spike of dread pierced through her as the alpha charged once more, its paws thundering into the ground. She struggled upright, ready to strike out with the staff, ignoring the sensation of blood pouring in thickly down her back. She gritted her teeth, twisting her wrist to arch the staff into place and pooling her energy together, pulling at her wounds as she did.
The alpha jumped. She was ready to strike when it bore down upon her, but midair it shrieked and lost momentum, its large limbs clawing into the air before it thundered to the ground before her. Dust rose from where it landed, slumped in a mass pile of scales and claws, unmoving.
Her breath shuddered. Rage and pain and adrenaline did not abate from her body, but she tensed as she saw a pool of bright green blood forming at the alpha's throat. Its eyes stared at her, already beginning to cloud over.
The dust settled, and she saw movement before her, the flash of red and the shadowy black. His power still surged around her, a familiar heat now, but it was aimed once more in her direction. Her lungs ached from enduring each pain-filled breath, but the power within her surged with urgency as the danger was far from over. Her fingertips burned.
She moved when he moved, one wild creature pitted against another, and he stopped when she stopped. He was before her within an instant, so close, so close and burning, crimson eyes locked and narrowed upon her. She held the bo staff to his throat, poised and ready, and she felt the tip of his glistening silver weapon against her own, a whisper of pain against the tender flesh.
And then it happened, happened so quickly that she didn't have time to react.
It happened within the space between heartbeats and, suddenly, it was all too late.
— — —
Author's Note: Guys, wow. Wow. The amount of feedback I've received with the first chapter far surpassed what I was expecting. It was immensely motivational. Thank you.