A/N: Sadly, I do not own Yu Yu Hakusho.

Spirit Detective Saga
Chapter Four - The Old Dog and the Boy

The sun had set early as it always did at this time of year. Lampposts bathed the streets below in light and, from high above, made the city look like a map brought to life. Here and there, Keiko spotted the first signs of Christmas approaching. One market square in particular had already decorated a tree in preparation. She'd entertained a few daydreams of spending Christmas Eve with Yūsuke this year, but that definitely wouldn't be happening in any meaningful sense.

Maybe next year.

"Let's see," Botan said, drawing Keiko's attention back to her. "It was around here somewhere. I think if we follow that road and take a left…thereabouts, we'll get there soon."

They were lost. Part of a ferrygirl's job, as it happened, was sweeping the living world for ghosts who slipped through the cracks. When found, they helped guide the lost soul to the afterlife on the spot whenever they could. One should note, then, that the job description didn't require a good sense of direction. It helped (or hurt in this case) that ferrywomen could sense ghosts from long distances to hone in on them. It was only the less noticeable ones that gave them trouble.

When Botan caught a glimpse of Keiko's unamused expression, she hastily said, "Yes, this way for sure! Come along, Keiko. This will be an easy first job for you to get your feet wet."

Keiko resisted the urge to call Botan out for jinxing things and merely followed after.

They wandered about for what felt like hours. Before long, Keiko found herself just as lost as Botan, although she could find her way home easily enough; she only had to follow the train lines.

Then at last it happened. Botan's face lit up in victory as she finally found the ghost she'd spent the last who knew how long looking for. They made a direct flight from where they were to their destination.

"So who exactly are we helping tonight?"

"His name is Jiro," Botan replied. "Handsome, strong, loyal. It's the latter that's the problem. Broadly speaking, there are three varieties of ghosts. Wandering ghosts like you are able to roam freely. They used to be the least common, but times change. Your type is often hard to find once you slip off on your own, so we try to reach you quickly after death.

"Then there are fixated ghosts. They have strong feelings for a particular location, usually where they died, and linger there. They are…stubborn." Clearly, Botan spoke from extensive experience there. "It's illegal to simply remove them by force; convincing them to leave of their own free will usually allows them to move on.

"Closely related is the haunting ghost. These ghosts attach themselves to a person the way fixated ghosts attaches themselves to a place. They tend to be more reasonable. In either case, although the reason varies, it's usually due to a grudge, regret, or love."

"And often all three?" Keiko asked. As far as she knew, those feelings frequently came hand in hand, and ghosts were something of a self-selecting group when it came to such things. According to Botan, the vast majority of people moved on without any fuss on their own. Those that remained usually either died unexpectedly or had an abnormally strong attachment to this world.

Botan, however, shook her head. "Not as often as you might think. Tonight, it's only the latter."

Up ahead, Keiko could just make out a ghostly form circling a house. When they drew closer, its shape became clear.

"A dog?" This wasn't at all what Keiko had expected from an 'easy job'. And it also raised a question. "Do all animals have souls?" If so, where was the dividing line? Eukaryotic masses? Individual cells? DNA? The further down, the messier things became.

"That's complicated," Botan replied. She led them to a stop behind the roof of a nearby house. From there, they could observe and plan without being spotted before they were ready. "Souls generate spirit energy, but spirit energy creates new souls. Have you heard a ghost story about a cherished doll coming to life?"

That took Keiko aback. "Those are real?"

With a shrug, Botan replied, "Sometimes. A good rule of thumb is if the 'mother' has spirit energy, then the 'child' will develop a soul. It's widely accepted that humans were the first to have them in this world. You then passed them on to more or less everything that moves and many things that shouldn't."

Keiko strongly suspected that was an insult. And probably a justly earned one, in all honesty.

"Whether having a soul makes you a person or not, however, is a matter of philosophy. Spirit World policy is to prioritize humans and—" Botan rather conspicuously didn't finish that sentence. "Anyway, you may take that as you will."

Keiko tucked that information away for later consideration. For now, she peered above the roof hiding them from view. Only across the street, Jiro the dog ran about through the air, circling round and round the house below. She didn't know nearly enough about dogs to name the breed, but she agreed with Botan that he was a handsome creature. He had a great deal of fluff to him and the cutest tail.

"I would cuddle that," Keiko said to Botan's chuckling agreement. "Do you know what happened?"

Botan withdrew her familiar little black book and flipped it open. "I did a little investigation ahead of time. From what I can tell, we have a faithful old dog and a lonely owner. Jiro's master is a young boy roughly half your age named Shōta. His classmates pick on him in school, and lately, they've been particularly cruel about Jiro's waning health. He has no other friends than his dog, so he's naturally devastated over his loss. For his limited understanding of death, I'd say he's also borderline suicidal."

And this was supposed to be an easy job? Keiko wasn't sure she wanted to know what constituted a hard one. In fact, she asked, "Are you sure you want to involve me in this?"

Botan, with confidence from nowhere, pumped a fist and said, "You've got this."

Botan would have to forgive Keiko if she didn't agree. Nonetheless, she turned back to observing the ghost dog and gave the situation some thought. The crux of the matter was that Jiro felt he needed to stay for Shōta's sake. If they could help the boy overcome his grief, the dog would likely move on. Except that would be meddling with the living, which wasn't allowed.

Wait. No, that's a contradiction, isn't it? Ghosts are allowed to freely visit dreams, myself included. Even if they're 'just dreams', they can have real effects. She was missing something important.

"Botan? What counts as interference? With the living, I mean."

"When in doubt, don't," Botan answered simply. She then asked, "What did you have in mind?"

As far as plans went, Keiko hadn't developed one that met her standards. But for the moment, an outline would do. "Could we take Jiro into Shōta's dream for an extended goodbye?"

Botan, to Keiko's surprise, said, "That sounds like an excellent idea to me."

With approval given, Keiko tossed more detailed ideas, questions, and advice back and forth with Botan.

The scene that unfolded before Keiko was a desolate wasteland. Towers of flat rocks that came up to her waist or higher appeared here and there, as did the occasional fumarole. The earth shook below her feet, and barren mountains rose above the horizon in the distance.

This dream bordered on nightmare territory even at first blush. It only needed a few volcanoes and a boiling lake or two to complete the picture. Unfortunately, she didn't have the technical skill required to impose large-scale changes, and Botan had decided to sit out this one unless something went horribly wrong.

At Keiko's side, Jiro moved in search of his master, sniffing at the ground for any sign of Shōta. She didn't think one could leave a scent trail in a dream without explicitly imagining it, but she could handle the visual approach herself. On a flat plain, she thought she'd find the boy first.

Jiro, however, suddenly brought his head up with his ears fully erect. A moment later, he bounded off on his own. Figuring that dogs had better hearing, Keiko followed after at a casual walk. When she caught up, she found Jiro atop a laughing, protesting Shōta and licking the poor boy's face after having happily tackled him. She hadn't fully processed it before when he'd been buried in warm blankets in bed, but Shōta only just exceeded his dog in size.

It wasn't long before the boy noticed Keiko waiting politely and patiently a few steps away during this reunion. "Uh, hello? Who are you, miss?"

Well, it was do or die now. "My name is Keiko. I'm here to help you and Jiro, if you'll let me."

"Help how?" Shōta asked. He gently pushed Jiro off of him so that he could stand up. "Do you know where we are?"

As honesty was usually the best policy, Keiko said, "We're in your bedroom. This is a dream."

Shōta's face fell into a frown. "Then…this isn't real?" Despite his doubt, he pulled Jiro closer to himself.

"Not entirely," Keiko replied, "yet partially." She stepped closer and kneeled. That put her at eye level and allowed her to pet Jiro, hopefully showing that she could be trusted. "I am… Well, right now, I help troubled souls. I was passing by when your ghostly friend here asked me, in his own way, to come speak with you for him."

"Jiro's not a gho…" The sensation of touch fought with the memory of Jiro's death and lost. "Oh." However, a secondary realization struck soon after as Shōta turned to face his dog. "But wait. You're you?"

In response, Jiro barked and licked Shōta's face again. That was all the confirmation a boy his age required.

Keiko took the opportunity to speak again now that she had a believing audience. "Jiro has been worried about you, Shōta."

"Sorry, boy." Shōta hugged his dog tight. "But I'll be fine now, 'cause you can visit me every night!"

That was not the direction Keiko wanted this conversation to go. "He can't do that," she said gently.

"Yes, he can!"

This time Keiko tried to be firm. "No, he can't. The dead need to move on." Although it occurred to her that she didn't know precisely why at this moment. Despite however inconvenient her incorporeal form could be, she'd not experienced any pressing need or desire to alter her situation.

And that made it hard to argue when Shōta stubbornly clung to Jiro and said, "He doesn't! Jiro can stay with me forever!"

"He can't," Keiko nonetheless insisted. "It won't be forever. You'll see him again someday, I promise. But for now, he's tired and needs his rest. Right, Jiro?"

The dog looked uncertainly at Keiko, neither understanding what she'd said nor helping in the slightest.

"See! He wants to stay with me," Shōta cried in delight. He pet Jiro, much to the dog's pleasure, and only grew more enthusiastic when the dog rolled over for better belly rubs.

This wasn't going well at all. Keiko wondered how her parents would handle this sort of situation. She'd never lost a pet and couldn't fall back on that experience. As far as Shōta knew, she was asking him to give up his dog again, this time for no real reason. That was such a terrible strategy that people had written books (books plural) about it.

Keiko bit back her sigh as she settled on what boiled down to her least favorite of the 'arguments' which her parents had taught her: 'because I said so'. "Shōta—"

"No!" The boy leapt to his feet and cried, "Just leave us alone!" as he ran off. Without hesitation, Jiro chased after him and then bounded along at his side once he'd caught up.

"Wait! Don't—"

Something fell onto Keiko's shoulder and held her in place. She froze, terrified that she'd find some horrible dream monster waiting to eat her if she moved. But out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of pink atop a pale hand. It was Botan, then.

Which meant she'd messed up badly.

And she had.

Very badly. Jiro might not ever leave the living world behind now.

"I'll take care of this," Botan said not unkindly. "Children can be difficult."

Keiko didn't have it in her to argue. She let herself fade from the dream and her failure.

It didn't take Botan long to finish. She sailed off into the sky on her oar, guiding Jiro from this world to the next. Watching it from afar rather than experiencing it firsthand, she gave the impression of smoothly sliding between realities. Keiko likened it to taking a turn up on a horizontal plane for lack of any better understanding.

When Botan returned, she slowly settled into place beside her charge. She sat on her oar while Keiko, her legs curled against her chest, pretended to sit on the roof of Shōta's home instead of phasing right through it. They remained silent for a while, allowing Keiko to reflect upon the night in peace. This hadn't been what she'd expected at all when Botan had offered to let her tag along. At the very least, she hadn't anticipated mucking things up so completely.

And if it hadn't been her, it would have been Yūsuke here with Botan. How would he have handled this situation? Well, Keiko knew what he would have done. He would have insisted Shōta stand up for himself against his bullies. He'd probably have tried to toughen the boy up with some ridiculous nonsense. Then Jiro could move on without worry or regret. And it would have worked, too, she thought, though she had nothing to base that claim off of beyond self-recrimination.

"You have a hard job."

It was only a statement of fact.

"Now imagine if you had to take a child from their mother," Botan answered lightly.

Keiko did just that for a moment and then wrapped her arms around her legs to pull them tight against her chest. A weak laugh escaped her. Was it any wonder that Botan had named Jiro and Shōta's situation an easy job? How did Botan do this every day?

"You're not secretly training me to become a ferrygirl for if I fail my test, are you?"

It added up. Her situation was 'rare' and 'interesting', enough so for the prince of the afterlife himself to personally look into it. With the human population explosion over the last several decades, Spirit World would need more ferrywomen, wouldn't they? She couldn't even be mad. They did good work; she'd be proud to be one if she had the talent for it.

And yet Botan laughed. "I'm afraid not, Keiko. I just thought you might find the work intriguing."

"Intriguing? Certainly. For me? Maybe not."

Botan proved understanding but said the offer was always open. Keiko didn't think she would take it, not without first knowing so much more about how all this worked. If today had been a test, she'd have failed it spectacularly. She could liken the experience to having walked into an exam without having studied or even attended classes.

And that brought to mind something she'd wanted to ask. "Why do ghosts have to move on?" She had a few guesses. Perhaps there was a reincarnation cycle that had to be maintained. Or it could be that ghosts died if they lingered for too long in the living world. She wouldn't discount it merely being a matter of policy, either.

"Strictly speaking," Botan said, "they don't."

Keiko perked up. "They don't?" She let her legs curl more comfortably beneath her. "Then why — no, there would still be cause for ferrywomen to exist." If nothing else, they could serve as councilors to help ghosts get on with their lives, if not move on to the next one. "Couldn't Jiro have stayed until Shōta no longer needed him?"

"Are you sure you want to know?"

The last time Botan had asked that question, Keiko had learned that her death had made things worse, that her sacrifice had been entirely pointless. That did little to inspire her to hear whatever Botan had to say this time. But she wouldn't shy away from unpleasant truths for mere comfort. She nodded.

"Well, I wasn't going to tell you this because it would only alarm you for no reason. The soul, you see, is the delicious chocolate center of a piece of candy."

Keiko didn't like the conclusion this metaphor had led her to.

"In life, the body serves as the protective shell. In death, it's the ghost. But ghosts are…er, less crunchy, I suppose. Stronger in one sense, because the spirit energy of the soul is so much easier to pull through that shell, but also more fragile for that very reason."

"There are things that eat souls?" Keiko cried, her voice thin but unable to hold it in a moment longer.

"Oh, don't worry," Botan said as though she hadn't just admitted that there were soul-eating monsters out there in the world waiting to snack on them. "There are none around here. But yes, and they prefer ghosts. Easier to chew, and all. That's why we try to hurry you along, just in case."

"No offense, Botan," Keiko deadpanned, "but your bedside manner needs work."

Laughing, Botan said, "Well, we wouldn't want you to be at peace and move on, now would we?"

Keiko honestly couldn't tell if that was a joke or the truth, so she just groaned.