The next installment! Kuwabara is just one Hell of a determined guy~

Swim classes from school helped Kuwabara to arrange his body into a halfway decent dive. He angled his head down, flung his arms out in front, point his hands taunt and overlapping them, and made sure to keep his legs straight and aligned with his spine. Even with the streamline aiding in breaking the surface Kuwabara was still blindsided by the shock of hitting the water with the speed gathered from such a high ledge. Black crept into his vision, threatening to engulf him and claim his life. Knowing that if Death stole over him then Kurama wouldn't be long to follow had Kuwabara's head clearing past the black. He struggled to stay afloat and awake amidst the dark waters.

Heat.

His body burned from head to toe. Every pore was hosting its own bonfire. The burn was powerful and created a pressure of its own that had Kuwabara desperately holding back a gasp. A faint streak of waving red caught his eye before he had to squeeze them shut. The water really was a hungry beast; it was eating his alive, digesting him in acid. Kuwabara stroked out in Kurama's direction, blindly grasping through the burning waters. He had to get Kurama out of this Hell water. Numbness was spreading down from the tips of his fingers but he still noticed the difference in texture when hair drifted over his forearm.

He grabbed a fist full of hair, dragging Kurama to his chest before kicking for the surface in a panicking race for air and sensatory relief. Breaking into the open, Kuwabara gulped down a mouthful of air and a good amount of acidic water. The shit ate away the top lining of his mouth and seared its way down into his stomach. One little swallow of the water was burning his mouth, he was worried what the bucketful Kurama was sure to have breathed in was doing to his insides. Over the harsh winds and the crashing waves throwing them back and forth Kuwabara could hear a painful rattling with each labored breath Kurama took. At least he was still working his lungs. Kuwabara could barely keep them afloat as it was without having to attempt CPR midsea.

Kuwabara pulled Kurama mostly onto his back. With one arm he held onto Kurama while the other worked in time with his legs to fight their way back to the sheer vertical side of the cliff. Mother Nature was proving to be nearly as taxing as fighting a demonic maniac by the time Kuwabara made it to the wall huffing and puffing. From his neck down, his skin was numbing out from the continuous acid burns. On the back of his hands he could see bleeding red-raw patches where his skin was just gone. The wound in his stomach was throbbing with the acidic assault. Already he felt feverish with what he was hoping was just pain and not infection.

A jagged rock close to him was what he draped Kurama over so he could pull his soaked, tattered blue jacket off his shoulders. Furiously kicking his legs, Kuwabara lifted himself onto the rock too. Working quickly, Kuwabara situated Kurama onto his back. Wrapping the jacket around Kurama, Kuwabara tied the sleeves together around his chest, his ribs protested at the added weigh they had to carry; he wasn't leaving Kurama anywhere near this fucking sea no matter how excruciating it was going to be to carry his knocked out ass up the cliff.

He made sure Kurama's limp arms were tucked against his back. On an afterthought he also unbuckled his belt and looped it tightly around Kurama's knees in front of him. Kuwabara sucked in a sharp breath as agony tore at his injured stomach. Kurama's legs were cinched snugly around his hips, his knees digging right into his bandages. Fresh blood blossomed over the old browning blood. If there were some kinda infection or bacteria sneaked in him it was getting squeezed out now.

"Alright, Kurama. We can do this," said Kuwabara craning his head far back to catch a view of his destination. Kuwabara's head brushed against the top of Kurama's singed hair. The periodic warm breath puffing across his nape set a good rhythm for Kuwabara to follow on his trek up the cliff wall. "Yeah, we can so do this," Kuwabara muttered to himself sarcastically.

By far, the hardest part of the climb was actually getting started. From the rock he was balanced on Kuwabara could only see one way to make it to the cliff wall several feet away. Jump. His clothes were only now drying from being a full out corrosive to mildly irritating and he sure as Hell wasn't gonna willingly jump back into the sea to swim the gap.

Like anyone faced with an undesirable task, Kuwabara stalled; checking for Kurama's security, rolling out his soon to be taxed shoulders, flexing and measuring the amount of spirit energy he had left, and deciding to use the very minimum of it to make the climb. The enemy they were supposed to subdue was greater in power than any they have had to face in the past, which was scary as shit cause Kuwabara wasn't the best at math or biology, but he was damn sure he couldn't improve his strength exponentially. Then again neither could the bad guys. With the possibility of a continuing fight once he reached the top, Kuwabara knew his muscles were going to be doing most the work.

Kuwabara shuffled back the few inches the rock he perched on allowed, crouching a little to better distribute the extra weight of Kurama, then took two quick steps and shot off the small rock outcropping into a face full of acidic sea spray. The pain of the fresh blast of seawater was dulled by crashing full force into the jagged cliff wall. Before he could bounce back off the cliff or slide down much, he buried the two low-grade spirit swords in his hands deep into the bulk of the rock.

For a moment Kuwabara just hung there, he and Kurama swaying in the high speed winds of the sea. He was stunned that his trick had actually worked. Never had he climbed a mountain or anything of the sort, but he remembered once seeing a movie depicting people scaling a snowy ridge with the help of a pair of ice picks. Giddiness shot through him, followed by a new hope.

"Let's kick some cliff ass!" Kuwabara cheered to Kurama's unconscious form. He tightening his grip on his swords, muscles contracting in just the way he wanted them to. The rock wall in his face faded away. Sounds of the sea became silent. Kuwabara was zoned, feeling the familiarity of his body. He could feel Kurama's reassuring weight. Even the smallest muscles running down to his toes were working for him perfectly, straining to cling to the cliff as best they could. He hesitated only a moment, long to relish in this physically hyperaware state before throwing himself into his intense task.

Firm in hand, Kuwabara automatically shifted his weight briefly to one side and yanked out the opposed spirit sword. Using the momentum of his weight shifting back, he propelled himself up on the peg his embedded spirit sword formed. He plunged his free spirit sword back into the cliff several feet above the original hole he'd ripped it from.

Grinning at the small progress, Kuwabara fell into a steady rhythm. He relied on his body to keep up the vigorous pace he'd set. Muscles extended and flexed, bones shifted, air huffed in and out of his lungs. Sweat was a godsend. The harder he worked to get himself and Kurama to the top, the more sweat that beaded up on his skin and ran down his body, flushing away the residual sting of the acid water.

Kuwabara faltered nearly to the top. In the midst of eating up the distance of the cliff, he hadn't noticed the subtle shifting of Kurama's awakening that blended in sync with his own bodily swings.

"Kuwabara?" Kurama muttered dazedly into his shoulder blades. The new weakened sound broke right through Kuwabara's zone, costing them several yards of cliff time as they slide down from the sudden shock.

"My apologies," said Kurama in a slightly stronger voice, gently squeezing Kuwabara's shoulders in his shaking hands.

"It's okay," Kuwabara panted. His arms shook with exhaustion as he moved to propel himself and his precious cargo upward. Fatigue tugged at his body, he wanted to desperately to either be at the top already or just let go. Either way would allow him to rest. Kuwabara smiled at the feeling of Kurama unwedging his hands between them and wrapping his arms around his own bare chest. And like that Kuwabara felt a renewed sense of determination. Just Kurama's, conscious, presence had Kuwabara back working a steady pace; the top of the cliff inching closer and closer.

"Why does my face feel like acid was thrown on it?" Kurama asked.

"We sorta fell into a monster ocean. I think it was trying to digest us," Kuwabara supplied.

"Oh, yes. That's right. We must have wound up next to the Sujin Sea. It's know to strip the flesh of the bone in a matter of minutes."

"That's just creepy. Putting that into my 'weird demon world tidbits' category."

With the conversation to distract him from the brutal task of finishing the home stretch, Kuwabara breathed a sigh of relieve as he wiggled his torso over top the cliff lip. His sigh was cut short by Kurama's weight pressing him down into the rocky ground. At the moment, Kuwabara didn't care about that. He was just glad he was on a ground to be crushed into.