"We've decided!" the half-breed proclaimed.
Hiei's lips twisted into a sneer. "Let me guess. You've devised a scheme to save the boy."
"Damn it, Hiei. First you skip the damn meeting. Then you steal my thunder."
A boom of true thunder burst, so loud and close it rattled the windowpane. "Spooky," Kuwabara said from the hall at Yusuke's back.
Kurama threaded his way into the kitchen. "Indeed. It seems, Yusuke, even the thunder is stealing your thunder."
"Stick to being a nerd," Yusuke drawled, hooking his foot around a chair and tugging it out from the table. "Your jokes are crap."
Shaking his head, an amused smile on his lips, Kurama pulled out a seat of his own. Kuwabara followed a moment later. Then all eyes shifted to Kalanie.
"What," she said, "I'm not getting the whole committee?"
Yusuke chuckled. "Take notes, fox. That's how you make a joke."
Only Kalanie wasn't joking. The others were filing past, the demons—like Chu and Rinku and Touya—heading back out into the downpour while the women moved off into the shrine, toward the living room if Kalanie had to guess. Even Genkai didn't join them in the kitchen.
Kurama leaned forward. "Well, as Yusuke said, we've made our decision. Too many voices would serve only to muddy the waters."
"That, and Chu's crew is heading out to meet Shishiwakamaru. He's bringing in a new round of refugees. They won't be back until morning."
She wasn't sure what that meant. Nor did she think she wanted to know. If there were any secrets these people had left, they should keep them to themselves, not entrust them to her.
The thought brought her attention darting to Hiei. He was watching her, same as the others, but the connection she'd felt between them had faded from his eyes. His gaze was sharp, critical, and entirely closed off. Yet she saw through it to at least one piece of the soul hidden beneath his steely exterior.
She recognized it now—the similarity between him and Yukina. Their crimson eyes. The structure of their cheekbones. She wouldn't have connected them before, but now she'd never unsee the blood they shared.
He shouldn't have told her.
Kuwabara stifled a yawn. "Still think Shishi should have waited until the rain stopped. That's a lot of powerless humans to move through the forest in a storm like this."
"Stop it," Kalanie snapped.
Yusuke cocked his head. "Stop what?"
"Talking about this—any of it—around me. I don't want to know. You shouldn't want me to."
"That's where you're wrong," Kurama said. "This is no mistake. We understand the implications, and I ask that you trust us to handle the risk. We've survived this long. I assure you, we've no intentions of that changing."
Yusuke nodded emphatically. "What he said. Besides, we need you. You know way more about this Sovereign Binds crap than any of us. See, I told Hokushin about all this. He's my second in command—"
"I know."
"Of course you do. Okay, well, I told him. Asked him to keep an eye out for more like you. We'd seen your lot before, but Hokushin says they're everywhere now. As in thousands of the buggers. Way more than Genkai says one of these binder assholes can handle."
"Puppeteers," she said. "That's what I call them."
The detective smirked. "Works for me. Point is, these puppeteers are running the show. If we're going to win this shit, put an end to Project Shell—without offing your brother—then we have to start with killing the puppeteers."
Kuwabara jabbed a finger at her. "And we need you for that."
Fixing her with one of his calming smiles, Kurama asked, "What do you know of Demon World's status?"
She swallowed hard, averting her gaze. "Little. I haven't been there in over a year. And before that… I hadn't seen much of the outside, not since the Fall."
After the barrier had come down, he'd shortened her leash. He didn't need her in the Forest of Fools, spreading the word. Instead, he kept her at his side. His pet as Hiei had put it. His plaything. Locked off from the happenings all around her—the ruin of the worlds as they'd always been known.
Not that she'd been cognizant of anything anyway. Not at that point. She'd been little more than a husk, so hollowed out and empty she could hardly remember her own name.
"I thought as much," Kurama said. "After the barrier's dissolution, Human World fell in short order. We had no means to hold back the flood of demons. Our governments collapsed. Nations dissipated in little more than weeks. There are still holdouts, even now, but they're few and far between. Ours here in Japan. A handful in the European Union. One in Canada. Another in South Africa." The names meant nothing to her. Places she didn't know. Humans she'd never meet.
"Demon World held on longer. Enki called on Yusuke, Yomi, and Mukuro instantly. We held meetings for days. Our plans worked, for a time. We kept the territories under control. So many demons had come here, intent on plundering the defenseless humans they so despised. It made our work in Demon World easier. Or so we thought."
Yusuke spat a curse. "We were idiots."
Kurama nodded. "We were." He laced his hands together atop the table, frowning at his scarred knuckles. "When the revolts started, we weren't ready. The insurgents attacked deep inside the territories we thought we had control over. Our forces were too far away to get there in time. A year after the Fall, we had little more a handful of safe havens left. We're down to five now."
An ache had begun in Kalanie's chest. It tore at her, pulling apart the pieces she'd so carefully put back together. Her iron writhed over her palms, flowing like molten steel. In a matter of seconds, rust bloomed across her joints, sullying the silver surface. She barely dared breathe as she said, "I don't see how this relates to the puppeteers. To me."
"That's another of our failings," Kurama murmured. "We took far too long to notice the markings on so many of our enemies. During battle, we were too distracted, and by the time we could think clearly, the Binds had faded from the corpses left behind. Yours were the first I've seen clearly. And now that I have, I see them everywhere."
Yusuke shoved a hand through his hair, his fingers knotting in the strands. "We're not even fighting the enemy. Just killing their mindless slaves. It's fucked up."
"That's where you come in," Kuwabara said. "Tell us how they're made. Where the puppeteers are."
"Better yet, teach us how to cure them."
Kalanie shook her head. "I've told you before. There is no cure, no simple fix. Kill the puppet or kill the puppeteer. That's all there is."
"Not true." Hiei cocked a single brow. Challenging her to argue. "The fool you killed, Yukina says he faltered when he saw you. His compulsion relaxed. At least for a moment."
"Akio… I surprised him, startled him enough to reach whatever hadn't eroded away beneath the Binds. But that's because he knew me and thought me dead. There's no saying I could reproduce the effect."
"Work with us here," Yusuke snapped. "I mean, come on. There has to be something."
She thought of her escape, of the way she'd twisted his words, knotting them up in her head until they meant something different—until she could find a loophole.
"Compulsions can be… tricked. As Kurama explained days ago. But most puppets won't be able to do it on their own." She squeezed her eyes shut. "I only managed to escape because he grew sloppy with me. Complacent. He told me to find Yuuto, one his subordinates. His intention was for me to bring Yuuto back with me. But he didn't say it that way. Just find Yuuto. So I did, and then I kept walking."
They'd ceased to move. The room was so quiet she could almost imagine she was alone in it.
Her throat felt tight, a compulsion hovering close, but she staved it off. So many people knew how compulsions worked. It was common knowledge amongst Project Shell's forces. Not secret. "They're easier to trick with help. If someone unbound manipulates the situation."
"What is with the damn riddles?" Yusuke smacked his palm against the table. It startled Kalanie so violently her iron fissured from her hands in sharp spikes, bristling like the quills of a porcupine. The half-breed held up his hands in mock surrender.
"What I meant," she said after wrangling her iron, "is that they can be fooled. For lack of a better example, if he commanded me to turn out the lights and instead I closed my eyes, the darkness could satisfy the compulsion. Especially if someone else said I had turned out the lights."
Kurama rubbed his chin. "Interesting, but not overly useful when fighting these puppets. We've no time to convince them of anything."
"You asked for answers I don't have. I'm giving you what I do."
"Hn. Is that it?"
She took a deep breath. "If he doesn't include a timeframe, the compulsions fade. The smaller ones more quickly. The broader ones less so." Her throat was burning, a strangling pain taking root. She rubbed at it and choked down a breath. "He forbade me to ever tell secrets. That will never leave me. But—"
"Wait," Kuwabara interrupted. "Aren't these secrets?"
It was like a gut punch. The air whooshed from her lungs as her last, desperate resistance against the compulsion gave way.
"Moron," Hiei growled.
"What's your problem, short stuff? I asked a question. Doesn't make me an idiot."
"Look at her and dare say that again."
Kuwabara fumbled, frowning at her uncertainly. If she looked half as battered as she felt, his recognition dawned too slowly. "You were tricking the compulsion…"
The tightness in her throat kept her from answering.
But it seemed Kurama had pieced together the puzzle on his own. "Because the Sovereign Binds aren't secret. Not truly. They're little known. Mostly forgotten about. But still common knowledge." When she said nothing more, he added, "It doesn't matter now, does it? The damage has been done."
She nodded.
"Look," Yusuke said. "All this is more than we knew twenty minutes ago. So you can't deny it, we need you. You could help us. And in turn we'll help you free your brother. You don't need to go to this meeting of yours. Seems like a dumb risk anyway."
"Agreed." Kurama reached out, pressing his long fingers over her fist atop the table. Compared to Hiei's wrist, they were cold as ice. "Work with us, Kalanie. We'll free you. And your brother. It will take time, but I assure you, we will win."
"I don't have time." She choked the words out. "He doesn't."
"Who? Masaru?"
"No, Urameshi," Hiei said. "Her brother."
Yusuke rolled his eyes. "See, this is why you need to use names, Kal. Nobody—"
She stiffened. A spike of frantic terror lanced through her heart, stirring her demon energy into a frenzy. "Don't call me that. Ever."
"Kal? But—"
She was at his throat in an instant. Iron flowed from her skin to his, circling his neck like a vice, tightening like a noose. He scrabbled for her wrist, but before he could fight back, an arm snagged around her waist and jerked her away. It burned hot as smoldering coals.
Hiei's grip locked her against his chest. She bucked wildly, tossing an elbow backward, hoping to crack a rib. He snarled in her ear. "Enough."
And it was.
She came back to herself in fits and starts, her anger receding. Once she fell still, Hiei released her—though not without a shove back toward her seat.
"What the hell?" Yusuke demanded.
"Don't say that name. Kalanie. I am Kalanie."
Still glaring, he righted his seat, scooting it back toward the table. Hiei remained standing, a pace from her shoulder, as if waiting in case she lost control once more.
An awkward pause settled over them. Yusuke and Kuwabara exchanged looks that boiled her blood, and Hiei's need to monitor her made her sick. Hell, she was a fool. A broken, useless fool.
Kurama cleared his throat. "We've been derailed. What were you saying, Kalanie, about not having enough time?"
She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood. The sting settled her racing nerves. "I won't wait until your plans fall into place. I need to save him. I've already taken too long."
"So you want to go to this meeting?"
"You've had me here for nearly three weeks. If you've understood nothing else I've said, I'd have hoped you understood this—I need to leave this place. I must."
His smile flashed. It didn't reach his eyes. "Then let us work with you. We'll accompany you. Make sure you're not ambushed. And whatever they tell you, whatever lead they offer, we'll help execute it. In turn, you help us."
"We are not bargaining—"
"You're right. We're not. These are the terms. You accept them, and we'll let you beyond the barrier for your meeting. We will accompany you, and you will return here after. If you refuse these terms, you never leave, the deadline passes, and your opportunity's gone."
Kuwabara let loose an appreciative whistle. "Remind me if I ever need lawyer, you're my guy, Kurama." Then, rubbing his neck sheepishly, he added, "Though I guess we don't need lawyers without laws."
Yusuke grinned at Kalanie. His fingers shaped like a gun, he pointed his hand at her and murmured, "Bang."
She bit down a vicious curse. They'd trapped her.
A hand curled over her shoulder. It squeezed, sharp and insistent. "Hn. Take the deal."
She hated them, then. Really and truly.
Yet in spite of it all—or perhaps because of it—she respected them, too. They carried the fate of the worlds on their shoulders. The future of all of humanity fell on these four men. And maybe, just maybe, there actually was a future because of them.
If she had a place in that future… If Nomi did… Well, then maybe it was time to stop fighting them. Maybe it was time to face this—all of it, every devil in her past.
"Fine," she said at last, "but we do it on my terms."
"You could say thanks, you know."
"Excuse me?"
On the night they were to leave for the train station, Kalanie sat on the porch's bottom step, one hand pressed to the earth, siphoning iron from the seemingly endless stores deep between the shrine. Kuwabara loomed over her. A brisk wind whistled past, stirring the unzippered length of his long, storm gray jacket. It flapped against her shoulder. She grimaced.
"Do you realize how ridiculous this is? How much we're risking for you?"
"I didn't ask you to come."
He sank down beside her, stretching out his long legs. "Maybe not directly, but like hell we were going to let you go alone."
Leaning her cheek against her knee, she studied him sidelong. He hadn't proven to be what she'd expected. After all, he was perhaps the strongest human left in all three worlds. With a reputation like that hanging from his shoulders, she'd anticipated a hard ass. A powerful, ruthless man. Hiei in human skin.
Instead, she'd found a man loyal to his friends. A man devoted to the woman he loved. A man quick to joke and quicker still to smile. A man who had never once looked at her as something less—something vile.
"Look," he said, "you don't seem to like us—which is crap by the way—but we're only doing what we have to. You want to save your brother. Good on you. But we have far more than one life depending on us. This shit Masaru did to you is hell, I get that, but there's so much other shit—so much worse shit. So we're doing what's right. For as many people as possible." He turned to her, his knees knocking against hers. "We want you to be one of those people, but you have to ditch the boulder you're carrying around on your shoulder. If you want allies, you need to let someone in. You hear me?"
"I hear you." She just wasn't sure she agreed with him.
Grinning, he extended a fist. She stared dumbly at his knuckles.
A burst of unnatural wind announced Hiei's arrival. "He wants you to 'bump' it," the demon said, disgust dripping from every word.
Kuwabara rolled his eyes. "Don't make me beat you up, shrimp."
"Aren't you sick of lying to yourself about your abilities?"
"All right, screw it. You're out. Kurama can come with us instead—"
Gently, all too aware of the iron coating her knuckles, Kalanie raised her fist to his. Kuwabara trailed off, blinking at their joined hands in disbelief, then loosed a victorious whoop and crushed her to his chest in a bone-shattering hug.
She let him have his moment, her arms limp at her side, but when he pulled back, she rose swiftly to her feet. "We need to go. I want to scout the area before Mazou is due to arrive. Confirm it's not a trap."
"Right." Kuwabara lurched upright, then marched for the distant barrier. "How fast are you?"
"Faster than you."
To her surprise, Hiei chuckled. It was low and dark and, despite herself, sent a shiver racing down her spine.
"Dude," Kuwabara said. Twisting to walk backwards, he pressed a hand against his heart in mock injury. "I thought we just bonded."
She hurried to catch him, refusing to acknowledge Hiei's gaze burning into her back. "I was speaking empirically. I've seen the data."
"Huh, well that sucks. I thought I'd gotten faster."
She decided not to tell him that he had. Since the Dark Tournament six years ago, his speed had increased tenfold. Just not enough to eclipse her own.
Moving silently through the underbrush, not so much as a single twig breaking beneath his boots, Hiei reached her side. "Set the pace then, fool. We'll keep up with you."
She ignored the ember that smoked to life in her gut when Hiei described them as a we. By the time the barrier materialized between the trees, she'd stamped it out entirely, leaving her chest empty, her thoughts clear and focused. She had no room for distractions. Not now. Not with the key to saving Nomi so close.
So intent was her focus, she felt not even a blip of elation as she passed through the barrier's crackling current. In its stead, determination sung in her bones, and as Kuwabara blurred into a sprint, she gave chase, feeling the bolstering flow of iron across her skin and the press of energy coiled in her chest, tense as a spring.
And more strongly than anything else, steadfast and unbreaking, rang the surety that finally—finally—she was back on the right course.
AN: Lots more details about the Fall! And writing the gang like this was super fun. I don't think I've ever felt as in touch with Kurama as I did here. Normally he's sooooo tricky for me. I hope my connection to him translated to the page properly!
We've reached Stage 2 of this story! Now things start to pick up and change pace!
Thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter. I love hearing from you all!