The water ran hot, steaming up the bathroom of Shigure's underground home. Mukuro bathed with spartan luxury, scrubbing her skin hard with the goat soap as mud, blood, and grass littered the bottom of the tub. The scratches and bites upon her skin were red and inflamed, clearly infected, and she made sure to soap her cuts extra well in order to promote healing.
She wished she could not think. She wished she could forget why she was here and what was happening upstairs.
Shigure's apartment was small, but not cramped. It had a kitchen which opened up to a small wooden table. A bathroom and bedroom lay just on the other side of a wall covered in framed black and white photographs. Mukuro had stepped straight into the bathroom, wanting to get into clean clothes before she explored the apartment. She would eat, she decided. She would eat and rest.
She would sleep until Shigure came to get her... and she would plug her ears so as to not hear the whirring of the machines.
She contented herself with the knowledge that Hiei was blacked out and could not feel pain... that Shigure wouldn't let him suffer needlessly.
What could be done for Hiei? What options did Shigure have to pursue? Mukuro was untrained in the medical profession, and an onlooker to the grizzly scene. She had no way of knowing if Hiei's case was dire, or an easy fix. The outcome weighed heavily upon her mind, making it impossible to feel at peace even though she was now in a safe house instead of a howling wilderness. How long were these things supposed to take? Would it be another hour or two? ... Would it be days?
Mukuro shut off the water, closing her eyes as her face crumpled.
She could not think, but it was impossible not to. It was impossible not to worry... not to be scared shitless. She could defeat demons; she could run off an enemy line.
But she couldn't stop this. She couldn't defeat this. Only Shigure had that power, and she had to have faith in him... in his abilities.
Heaving a heavy sigh, Mukuro stepped out of the shower and dried off with a thin towel. She found extra clothes in a wardrobe, though they were for a man. A pair of long black pants and an oversized white shirt were her best option and she rolled up the pants and arms sleeves to make herself comfortable. She walked barefoot from the bathroom, catching a glimpse of herself in the bedroom mirror as she passed.
She looked dismal. Frightened and tired. Even the normal vibrant hue of her orange hair seemed dull.
But perhaps that was because it was wet.
Mukuro entered the kitchen and searched through the cupboards to find food. Her stomach growled irritably as she found fruit in a woven bowl, and immediately bit into a large asian plum. In the pantry there was large clay jars which she found to be full of rice. She would have to boil it before she could eat... but she had time. She struck a fire upon the stove, filling a rice maker up with water before adding different things that she found on the shelves. Spices, dried vegetables, and of course a large handful of rice all went into the pot. Setting it over the fire, she had but to wait till the steam would rise in thick clouds. Until then, she would have to find a way to amuse herself.
She stepped back from the kitchen, closing the pantry door and heading back into the hallway.
Upstairs, a whirring machine stopped, only to start again after a small pause.
The photographs in the hallway were large, roughly eight by eleven inches, and they all seemed to have been taken from the same camera. Oddly enough they were all head-shots.
How strange...
The people in the photographs all looked very upset, as if the photo had been taken after the person received a devastating emotional blow. They were frowning, and some were even crying, with their eyes full of misery and discontent. Some were men, some were women... but all were heartbroken. All were tired.
Mukuro walked down the hallway, noticing that every person in the picture had bandages wrapped around their foreheads. Perhaps they were people Shigure had preformed the jagan operation on. And yet... why did they all look so miserable? Most pictures had a phrase underneath them, none of which made sense. Some said 'mother', some said 'god help me'; the list continued on.
But what on earth did it all mean?
Mukuro paused as she passed by a particular picture that caught her eye, sucking in a breath as Hiei's face appeared before her.
So young, and yet so heartbroken.
He had to be but a hundred years old in this photo, still a young boy full of anger and hatred. Mukuro could see none of the violence in his eyes though, which were just as almond shaped and red as ever. The photo was black and white, but Mukuro knew the color of his eyes.
She knew the color of his soul, practically.
Hiei's head was heavily bandaged, and he seemed morose as he gazed into the camera lens. Mukuro wondered what his operation had been like, and how he'd fared the first few weeks afterward. Most who had the operation were killed by the excruciating pain that followed. Perhaps that was why all the pictures were of broken hearted people. Maybe they weren't broken hearted. Maybe they were in grievous pain.
Underneath Hiei's photograph, a phrase could be found. It was one word: "Yukina".
Of course.
"Everyone screams. The only difference is what they say."
Mukuro jumped, her heart pounding in horror as she whipped around with her fists raised. Shigure stood before her; how had he snuck downstairs without making a single sound!? Had she been so absorbed with the photos that she hadn't even heard him come down? How long had she been starring at the photographs? She looked over Shigure's shoulder to see the rice maker steaming heavily and dashed to the stove to grab the handle-
"Ah!" Mukuro seethed, for the handle was scalding hot. How stupid was she? She quickly unrolled her shirt sleeve, blowing out the fire underneath the rice maker and using the cloth as a makeshift pot holder. She moved the rice maker off the hot eye onto a cool one, cursing and sucking at her burning flesh as she leaned against the counter top. Shigure was watching her from the hallway, and it was at that time Mukuro noticed the sad expression in his eyes.
"What?" She demanded quickly, "What's happened? Tell me! He'll be alright? Tell me!" She ordered loudly when Shigure said nothing.
Shigure rubbed his neck somberly, glancing once more at Hiei's younger photograph.
"You got a bath?" Shigure asked.
"Don't fuck with me!" Mukuro seethed, "Tell me what's wrong with him! Whether I bathe or not is none of your concern!"
Once again, Shigure did not answer, instead coming into the kitchen and finding two clay bowls in the cupboards. He fetched chopsticks as well, and silently began to spoon heaping mounds of delicious smelling rice into each bowl. Yet for all the anger and fear that Mukuro felt welling up inside of her, the smell could have been disgusting.
"Tell me, goddamnit!" Mukuro grabbed Shigure's arm in a vice like grip, her one good eye blazing with fiery rage! "Tell me what's going on?!"
Shigure did not reply, and the fear in Mukuro's heart only grew larger.
"He- he's going to be alright." Mukuro demanded, her heart pounding even harder. "You can fix him, right?"
Shigure made an odd face at this, perhaps one of amused agreement.
"You think so? Think this is a... fixing game?" Shigure offered, setting the bowls onto the tables and taking a seat to dig into his own meal. "Thanks for making dinner by the way. I took a break to eat."
"You did what?!" Mukuro demanded, slamming her fists onto the table, "Get your lazy ass back upstairs and finish the job! You think you can just stop mid operation?! No wonder half your fucking patients die you pompous pig!"
Shigure gave her a look of lazy irritability.
"You thought I was operating on him?" Shigure sneered. "You're the one whose pompous, Mukuro. I don't operate until I diagnose. I am diagnosing."
"Then get back upstairs and diagnose!" Mukuro seethed.
"No need." Shigure answered through a mouthful of food, "No use. Can't diagnose what's dead."
Mukuro froze.
Her blood ran icy cold through her veins, and she momentarily lost feeling in her fingers and toes as breath failed to pass through her lungs.
Surely... surely-?!
Shigure caught her eye, and gave her a bitter smile.
"The jagan is dead. Not Hiei. He's just asleep. Sit down before you fall down." Shigure kicked out the other chair from under the table and Mukuro dropped into it at once, shaking. She said nothing, running her fingers over her face as she took deep calming breaths.
"You are... the worst sort of person." Mukuro hissed. "You bastard!"
"You make good rice." Shigure commented, not answering her taunt, "I never add things into my pot. I like the way you do, though. Smart idea."
Mukuro laid her head upon the kitchen table, suddenly not hungry anymore. She couldn't seem to get a hold of her emotions, and as she pressed her lips and forehead into the wood she screwed up her face so that Shigure could not see.
"Fuck you!" Mukuro moaned, "You don't... You don't say things to people like that! Don't you understand-?! Don't you fucking understand-"
"I understand a lot more than you think." Shigure assured her, and in the dark of her closed eyes, Mukuro felt her lashes grow wet. "I understand how scared you are. After hundreds of patients and their friends walking through these doors only to go home with one less in their party...? I understand."
"Just shuttup." Mukuro spat, "You think I'm some- weak-"
"There is no weakness in being afraid of loosing a loved one." Shigure disagreed. "Only in denying that fear and continuing brashly forward."
Mukuro's eyes grew wetter still.
She sat up, sniffing and rubbing her face so as to clear her eyes. She did not look at Shigure, even as he pushed her bowl towards her so as to tempt her to eat.
"Eat." Shigure murmured gently. "It'll make you feel better."
"Don't fucking father me." Mukuro grumbled. "I'm not a fool."
"Then don't act like one and eat." Shigure grumbled back.
Mukuro gave him a scathing look, only to find that there was compassion upon Shigure's face.
She paused, glancing at her bowl again and slowly picking up the chopsticks which lay beside it. She began to eat at a snails pace, not really tasting the food in her mouth as she simply swallowed without chewing.
"Mukuro, you and I know each other through work. We've never shared this kind of relationship, one of doctor and patient... or should I say, one of doctor and loved one of patient." Shigure corrected himself. "I need you to attempt to work with me on that level. To not see me as an employee but as a doctor. Can you do this."
"Yes."
"Good." Shigure nodded, satisfied, and ate some more of his food.
"... What's wrong with him." Mukuro whispered, not looking at Shigure as she spoke.
Shigure contemplated on this long and hard before answering, and Mukuro could tell that he was wondering how to word his diagnosis in a way that she could understand.
"The jagan is a living organism, which feeds directly from the bearers conscious mind." Shigure began. "When a jagan suffers a blow, it usually can heal itself like any other living organism. Usually." Shigure added for emphasis. "There are only two things that can kill a jagan: Either the bearer must die... or the heart must die."
"Heart?" Mukuro asked, for surely this was the source. Hiei was not dead.
"The jagan..." Shigure paused, shaking his head, "It's alive, Mukuro. For a reason."
"What reason?" Mukuro asked.
"Each one differs." Shigure shrugged." It all depends on why the bearer got the jagan in the first place. Hiei got his jagan for three reasons... to find his birthstone, and to find his sister primarily." Shigure explained. "If the jagan were to be wounded at its source for life, at its heart... the jagan would die a slow painful death. You told me that an impostor has claimed to be Yukina's brother?"
"Yes." Mukuro nodded.
"Well that's not our source." Shigure shook his head. "Hiei knows he's Yukina's brother. Nothing this impostor says will ever change the truth... No. What killed the jagan was a different blow."
"What?"
"... Has Hiei ever told you about his past?" Shigure asked.
Mukuro nodded.
"After your battle, he shared his entire story with me. He submitted his mind to me... and it felt like home." Mukuro's voice broke and she looked away at once. "I know everything about him."
"Then you know the third reason as to why he got his jagan." Shigure concluded.
"... I believe so." Mukuro paused, biting her lip as she set her food aside, "... His mother?"
"Correct." Shigure nodded. "Now, follow my train of thought. Hiei knows where his stone is, yes?"
"Yes." Mukuro nodded, fingering the prized jewel that lay around her neck.
"And Hiei knows where his sister is, yes?"
"Yes." Mukuro rolled her eyes, "Obviously."
"So that only leaves one avenue to the heart open."
Mukuro said nothing for a moment, her brow furrowing in confusion as she finally turned her gaze towards Shigure.
"His mother?" She asked, confused. "But... His mother is dead."
"Death is not the end of existence, Mukuro. Nor is it the end of pain." Shigure added gently. "The impostor used Hiei's longing to see his mother in order to destroy the jagan. I do not know how he did it... I only know that it was the only option available for the impostor to take. This leaves us with many more questions than we can answer: why did the impostor do this, how did he know that Hiei longed for his mother, how did he know how to destroy the jagan? All these things must be answered in order for us to get to the bottom of Hiei's illness."
Mukuro sighed, shaking her head.
"Don't worry." Shigure smiled gently. "Three things are never hidden long... the sun, the moon, and the truth. We'll find it soon enough."
"How though?" Mukuro whispered.
"Was anyone else with Hiei at the time of this impostors arrival?" Shigure asked. "Anyone that he told you about?"
"No." Mukuro bit her lip, "He didn't tell me anything else."
"Then we must find out on our own. Hiei obviously can't answer us." Shigure added with tasteful humor. "Oddly enough, I think I know just the person."
"Oh?" Mukuro grumbled. "Do tell, Doctor."
Shigure grinned, picking at his teeth with his bowl cleaned.
"Kurama."
"This is so strange." Botan murmured, worried at her findings.
It was late, and stars were gleaming through the high domed window of the archives room. Spirit World was fast asleep, save for three people (or two people and an ogre to be precise). Botan, George, and Kurama were pouring through book after book, desperately trying to find a lead on Shimo. So far, they'd come up with nothing, and as Botan scanned a large computer for a birth record, George looked through prison files. Kurama worked on another large stack of unrelated incidents that had been reported near the Hyouga.
Anything... anything would help at this point.
"Mmm." Kurama murmured, his reading glasses low upon the bridge of his nose. He took a sip of his hot tea, cracking his knuckles and shuffling through more papers. "What."
"There's no birth record for Shimo." Botan raised her hands in confusion, "Not a single one! I mean to say, I've seen tons of Shimo's, but none of the pictures match our man! It's like... he doesn't exist in our system. But that's impossible! Everyone exists in our system!"
"Spirit World technology has been faulted before. Didn't you know nothing on Hiei and I when we first stole the sacred items of death?" Kurama grinned.
"We knew your names, we had your files!" Botan frowned. "What we didn't have was a reason for your stealing!"
"Pardon me." Kurama chuckled, backing off of the testy subject at once.
"He's not in our prison files either." George sighed, looking truly exhausted. "I don't think he was ever arrested before. But maybe that's a good thing, Kurama sir! Maybe that means he's a nice man!"
"Trust me George." Botan warned her ogre friend. "The man has a heart of ice."
Heart of ice indeed-
Kurama paused mid thought, slowly raising his eyes to stare at Botan.
"... Heart of ice." Kurama whispered softly, tapping his chin. "Heart of ice."
"What?" Botan asked, confused. "What's wrong, Kurama?"
"Botan, I think you just gave me a lead." Kurama snorted. "By god you brilliant girl!" He rose from his chair at once, pacing back and forth as he began his train of logic.
"What lead?" Botan demanded. "How did I give you a lead?"
"Shh." Kurama hushed her at once. "Let me think. Let me think." Kurama repeated, closing his eyes and muttering to himself.
Heart of ice... A heart of ice. Shimo had openly professed his home to be the Hyouga. If Shimo had come from the Hyouga, who had he left behind? Who was his mother, if there was no file of birth? Kurama recalled the scream they'd heard on the underlapping audio. He knew that in that scream, there lay a definite clue to Shimo's intentions. It was the scream of a woman- and it was the scream of someone desperate. Desperate women often had a good cause to beg for... so what was that ones cause and why had Shimo recalled it when Hiei had searched his mind with the jagan?
"Botan, look up the Hyouga in your system." Kurama began. Botan did as she was asked, and after a few moments of connection a whole heap of files poured down through the screen.
"Now what?" Botan asked.
"Try the name Shimo again. This time only in the Hyouga." Kurama urged. Botan typed the name, only to draw a blank.
"Nothing." Botan shook her head. "He doesn't exist."
Kurama slowly paced towards Botan, leaning over her as she typed.
"... Try the name Hiei." Kurama murmured.
Botan and Kurama locked eyes, a moment of understanding passing between them. At once, Botan typed in Hiei's name.
The screen was blank.
"But- how?" Botan was agog. "How when we know that Hiei exists! And that he was born in the Hyouga with Yukina!"
Kurama squinted his eyes, his lip curling.
"Move out of the chair." Kurama ushered Botan off her seat, and she hastily got out of the way as he sat down and cracked his knuckles once more.
If Hiei didn't exist in the system there was only one explanation. Something had removed him.
Kurama typed in the name Yukina, and was relieved to see several files pop up, including the spirit detective case that had resulted in Yukina's rescue. Kurama clicked on her birth file, waiting patiently while it uploaded to reveal a face shot that perfectly matched the familiar sweet face he knew so well. Underneath Yukina's information, Kurama found her lineage and followed a list of names till he fell upon her mother.
"...Hina..." Kurama spoke aloud, clicking on the name.
He waited, only to be surprised as nothing showed up.
" A blank link?" Kurama frowned. "That's unusual."
"We don't have blank links normally." Botan shook her head. "Why won't anything come up, I wonder?"
"Because someone does not want us to see Hina's file." Kurama's eyes narrowed. "Who has control over the system?"
"Koenma." Botan supplied at once. "And he wouldn't leave out files."
"No." Kurama agreed.
"Perhaps we can find a hard copy, sir!" George offered happily. "I can go look for you if you like."
"Thank you George, that would be most helpful. Look for Yukina's name, and search for her mother from there. Her name should be Hina, or something of the like." Kurama smiled, glad to have cooperation of some sort. George was off at once, taking with him all the prison files he'd pulled.
"So Yukina's mother was named Hina. What a beautiful name." Botan murmured. "I wish we had a file on her. I wonder what she was like. Why, you realize that means Hina was Hiei's mother too!"
"Yes." Kurama agreed. He turned around in the chair, fixing Botan with a narrow stare. "Botan, if I told you something private do you think that you could keep it secret?"
"Oh Kurama, you know as well as me that I'm a blabber mouth." Botan gave him a sheepish smile. "But I'll do my best for you."
Kurama smiled back.
"Hiei told me that when he searched Shimo's mind, a memory had shown itself. But things were off about the memory." Kurama tilted his head, "A person was missing. A very important person. Now to Hiei, only one person is important and that is Yukina. It is plausible that the memory was one of Yukina and yet... I'm not certain. It could have been someone else."
"You think... Hina?" Botan offered. "But... Does Hiei have any memories of his mother?"
"I'm not sure." Kurama frowned. "But recall, Botan. We heard a woman's scream. Did that woman sound like Yukina?"
"No." Botan shook her head.
"No." Kurama agreed. "It wasn't Yukina. Whoever screamed, I'm willing to bet on a hunch that they were the same person missing from the memory. Now, what we must ask ourselves is why Shim would leave that person out. What is Shimo's motive?"
"Sir!"
George had returned with two files underneath his arms. "I have the files!"
"Very good!" Botan clapped her hands giddily, "lay the out, George! I want to see what Hina looks like!"
George spread the files out upon their cramped table, offering Yukina's file first to Kurama. Kurama did not check it, for he already knew ample information on Yukina. As he was handed Hina's file, he noted that it was extremely old and aged with stains.
"Oh my, it is an old file isn't it." Botan murmured. "I wonder if it will have a picture."
Kurama filled open the file, only to have his jaw drop.
It was empty, save for a small note: "Died a foolish martyr."
"... What?" Botan demanded, agog. "What in the world does this mean! George, is this how you found the file?"
"Yes!" George pleaded, desperate not to be blamed, "Please, Botan, don't be angry at me! I swear this is how I found it!"
Kurama picked up the hand written note, staring at it worriedly.
"... A foolish martyr." Kurama murmured softly, "Died a foolish martyr. Not a pleasant thing to write about someone."
"Not at all!" Botan stamped her foot. "And it seems like everywhere we look someone has pulled files to keep us in the dark! I officially suspect foul play. I'm reporting this to Koenma immediately. If someone's been tampering with our system they will need to be arrested at once!"
"Yes." Kurama agreed, not really listening as he stared at the note.
Handwritten too.. but why? Why write something like this and take a file? Did Hina have enemies? If she had had enemies... could Shimo be connected?
Botan had left, angry and wanting answers. George looked truly miserable, and Kurama patted his knee compassionately.
"Go to bed, George. You've done far more than required." Kurama added kindly.
"Thank you sir." George mumbled. "Goodnight sir."
"Goodnight George." Kurama replied, leaning back in his chair. George was gone before Kurama could count to ten, and Kurama plucked the note from Hina's file to pocket it. He would keep it for now, till it made more sense. Instead he turned his eye to the computer and decided he would do a bit more searching. Perhaps if he broadened his search through the Hyouga he could find-
Kurama was suddenly distracted from his train of thought by a large orb of glowing light that appeared before him, floating up and down.
He did a double take, utterly agog at such a bizarre appearance. What on earth did this mean? Where had the bubble come from?
He'd seen one just like this long ago when both he and Hiei had been contacted by Yomi and Mukuro. Kurama wondered if Yomi had been informed that Kurama was in spirit world- but what would Yomi want with him? Yomi was growing closer to Shura, and had no interest in world domination now. And yet...?
Kurama reached out, slowly uncurling his long fingers so as to almost touch the ball.
It dropped to the ground, and shattered in a pool of golden light. From it's broken shell, a misty figure rose up: the curvy figure of a familiar looking woman. Kurama leaned back in his chair, wary as the woman's face suddenly took on the vivid and detailed appearance of Mukuro. Mukuro of all people!
He sat up straight in his chair at once, eager to hear what she would say.
"Come to Shigure's hut as quick as you can." Mukuro began, sounding pained and agitated, "Hiei is in trouble. We need your help. Come to Shigure's hut as quick as you can."
The mist evaporated, thinning out into the sterile office air until the only thing that remained was the shattered fragments of the glass orb upon the floor. Kurama felt a great gust of breath leave him as he clutched at his chest and licked his dry lips. Hiei was in trouble, and Mukuro needed his help distinctly? By the sounds of it, Shigure was involved too. Kurama knew very little about the master surgeon, though the pair of them had fought to the death during the Demon Tournament. Still, Mukuro was not one to give up an able workman, and so Shigure had been revived in her regeneration tank... but what did this all mean? Had something gone wrong? Had Hiei not found the information that was needed? Or worse... Had Hiei found something at great peril?
Kurama snatched a spare notepad by the computer, finding a pen in one of the desk drawers. He jotted down a quick note to Botan and Koenma, wishing that he had a moment to say goodbye. But he knew from experience that S-class demons rarely called for help unless the situation was downright dire... and Kurama feared for his old friend.
He leapt out of the office chair, sprinting for the open door which lead out into the darkened abandoned hallway. He did not know how long it would be before he met Koenma and Botan again... yet he was glad even though the situation was tense that he'd had a moment to see his good friends once more. As Hiei was clearly demonstrating, even demons did not live forever.
Rain pattered down upon the hut. Mukuro had her head bowed so that it touched the tops of her knees, curled into a fetal position on Shigure's bed. He'd cast a blanket over her sometime during the night, and now she was warm. She could hear the soft hum of a motor somewhere in the house; no doubt Shigure was drilling away at Hiei's skull-
Mukuro sat bolt upright in bed, her eyes wide and her heart pounding-! She wrenched the covers off of the bed fumbling for her shoes in the dark of the cramped bedroom as she burst through the door into the hallway. Taking the stairs two at a time, she wrenched upon the door to the ground floor, the cool air hitting her flushed face as she was shown Shigure no where near Hiei, using a welding system on the other side of the room to craft something that she could not see.
Hiei was perfectly at rest, cold and quiet upon the operating slab with a blanket draped over his still body.
Mukuro let out an exasperated groan, exhausted even though only having just awoken. Though the whirring of the welding machine was loud and bounced around the domed hut, Shigure paused in his crafting to look over his shoulder. Across the dimly lit room, filled with the poor light of early morning during a rainstorm, Shigure gave her a small grimace that could have been mistaken for a smile.
"You're up." He noted, pulling off thick leather gloves and setting his work aside to drop a cherry red hot piece of metal into a basin of cold water. It hissed, spitting out steam like a wrathful volcano as it slowly began to cool. "Did you get any sleep?"
"I might have if you weren't up here making a racket!" Mukuro spat, still very angry. "What the hell are you doing anyway? Don't you ever sleep?"
Shigure shrugged at this, rubbing the soot off his bare hands and quietly lifting the blanket that covered Hiei's body.
"He's not doing well." Shigure shook his head, reading Hiei's ki with a flex of his broad scarred palm. "I'm going to have to operate soon... Or at least pull him off the anesthetic. I'd feel better if he took a breather- even if he was in pain."
Mukuro pursed her lips into a thin white light, hesitantly stepping forward to get a better look at her closest companion.
Hiei was deathly white, paler than she'd ever seen him. The tips of his nose, lips, fingers, and eyes, were a light blue which frightened her deeply. His hair, normally so stiff and un flexing, lay greasy and lank upon the table so that he look almost like a helpless child.
But the worst part was his forehead, the source of Shigure's hard work.
The jagan was gone, and what remained was a deep, dark red, empty socket. It had been cleaned meticulously, with a sterile substance that smelt foul. A thick white paste had been carefully smeared around most of the infected area, so that even while Hiei slept, he healed. Mukuro was speechless, and her mouth felt incredibly dry as she touched Hiei's cold cheek. She felt queasy, like she might be sick to her stomach; she closed her eyes so as not to see the nauseating sight.
"It was done for." Shigure commented idly, "I cleared out the dead muscle... all that was left was the socket. For now, I'm trying to stop the infection from spreading further into his brain. The heat was what made him delirious, as well as sluggish. So long as he's asleep, his brain will have time to cool and heal. If we wake him- when we wake him" Shigure quickly corrected himself, "We'll need to make sure he doesn't leave the table. Keep him calm, and still. I want him to be awake, not alert, you understand?"
"... I suppose." Mukuro shook her head, "Shigure, what do you plan to do?"
"If he were any younger or older, I'd say he was a dead man. But he's too young to let die, and too old to go on without the jagan. I'll have to infuse another." Shigure finished.
"Will he make it through the operation?" Mukuro felt a surge of fear well up inside her, "I thought this sort of thing killed people! Have you ever even done a second infusion?"
"Nope." Shigure shrugged, nonplussed. "I'm going to have to wing it."
Her expression must have been one of great discontentment, for he offered her a genuine smile (though it was full of sharp teeth).
"Courage, captain!" Shigure urged, "I am the best surgeon."
"You are the only surgeon."
Both Mukuro and Shigure looked around, surprised to find that they were suddenly not alone. At first, Mukuro was spiked with energy and anger, ready to kill the intruder upon their fragile scene, but her anger turned immediately to elation when she saw the red haired Yoko Kurama standing before her, his silhouette outlined by the bright skies of morning as the rain continued to pitter down. He was just as thin and willowy as she remembered, yet he appeared older and more serious than before with hardened green eyes and a firmly set jaw. He wore his usual tunic of white and magenta, his long sash billowing in the storm wind as he slowly closed the door to the outside, and turned his back on his newfound companions.
Mukuro had called for Kurama on a whim, thinking it a last resort that would come to nothing. Yet Kurama had come and so quickly too! How had he traveled such a long distance- or was he already in the area? She quickly ran her hands over her face and hair, cleaning off the dried spit from the corner of her mouth and straightening her shirt. She looked like shit, but she would still command an aura of authority before a stranger. She knew very little about Kurama, save only that he was once the famed Yoko that had stolen quite a few of her treasures and evaded her hoards of soldiers. Part of her was still slightly irked, but bygones were bygones in the face of new dangers and so she crossed her arms over her chest with narrowed eyes.
"You came quick." Mukuro spoke with as little emotion as possible.
"As asked." Kurama replied calmly, turning back around and offering both she and Shigure a pleasant smile. "You should have known I would come where Hiei was concerned."
"Is that so." Mukuro raised an eyebrow, "Why."
"We are companions. Teammates. Brothers, even." Kurama defined, "And I will not stand by if he is in danger. Where is he, and what has happened?"
Mukuro and Shigure looked at one another, exchanging a glance of morose defeat. They both stepped back, giving Kurama full view of Hiei upon the operating table. Kurama stared silently for only a moment, before seeming to realize what he was gazing upon and rushing to Hiei's side.
"Hiei!" Kurama called loudly, his voice urgent, "Hiei can you hear me?! Hiei, open your eyes!"
"He won't wake." Shigure spoke up, "He's underneath a heavy anesthetic. And for good reason too."
Kurama's hand trembled slightly as he reached to touch the rim of Hiei's now empty jagan socket, horror filling his face as he shook his head in denial of the facts.
"What has happened?" Kurama demanded, now angry and even defensive as he turned on Mukuro and Shigure, "How has this happened to Hiei?! Answer me!" He ordered, impatient as he kept a white knuckled grip upon the operating table behind him.
"We were hoping you could tell us." Shigure replied, never loosing his unshakable calm. "After all... you were there when this intruder did the deed."
Kurama froze, his anger and impatience melting to strange understanding as he looked away from them both. His wise brow as furrowed deep in thought."
"... I know... Only very little. But perhaps..." Kurama turned back to Shigure, "Perhaps if you and I combined our knowledge together, it could be enough."
Shigure grinned, seeming to enjoy the idea of comradeship as he looked upon the man who once had murdered him before an audience of thousands.
"I look forward to it." Shigure agreed, breaking into a macabre smile.
(Authors Note: I am currently going through each previous chapter to correct where the line breaks should have been. I apologize for any inconvenience it may have caused my readers in the past.)