Part Three


Chapter Thirty-Six

Training has begun, and it sucks.

I did get to spend time with Yuuta and Kokomi before it began, however. We talked and laughed and played family games before Yuuta drifted off in the middle of a game of Go-Fish. Then, far too soon, I was here in this cave where "time is relative" and a day to the body feels like a week to the mind.

I know what you're thinking, and no; I'm not training in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber.

This story has enough crossovers already.

And if that wasn't enough, Urameshi's idea of training would be better classified as torture.

Meditating on bonfires.

Sleeping with snakes.

Balancing on spikes with just one finger.

What the hell is even the point? I can't even fall back on the Ghost Files to know his reasoning because the reasoning behind Genkai's training was never explained.

Yare, yare.

All I can say is this damn training better be worth it.


Worth It

"Well…" said Yusuke (as he insisted Kusuo call him) as he looked up at Kusuo, who was balanced on the point of a three-meter-high stalagmite with only the tip of his finger and a single, tiny sphere of pinkish-red spirit energy. "You've pretty much covered all I have to teach you. Damn."

Kusuo looked down on Yusuke, his face impassive, though inside he was wondering if could get down before the older man started monologuing or if he would be stuck—

"I mean, I knew you were some sort of all powerful psychic or whatever before all this Dark Reunion shit went down, but…damn. Do you have any idea how hard and long I worked to get to where you are right now?"

Of course, I do; I just spent a week watching video recordings of your life as Spirit Detective.

As if he could hear Kusuo's internal sass, Yusuke glared up at him. "Don't get cute with me Saiki. You think that just because I can't read your mind, I don't know what you're thinking?"

That's generally how it works.

"Get your ass down here, you little punk."

Concentrating a burst of spirit energy into his finger, Kusuo launched himself from the stalagmite like a rocket. He twisted in midair and shifted his spirit energy into his feet and legs to reinforce the muscle and bone. He landed with effortless grace not two feet from where Yusuke stood scowling with his arms crossed.

"You must think you're pretty hot shit, huh?"

I have never once thought of myself as poop.

Yusuke's scowl deepened, and deep red energy danced across his bare arms. His skin seemed to darken in patches, and Kusuo instinctively went on guard. He didn't think Yusuke would attack unprovoked, but he'd only known the man for a few weeks, though if he was being technical, their time in this cave was only five days. Still, it felt like weeks in the realest way possible.

Kusuo didn't know exactly how it worked because Yusuke did a terrible job of explaining, but best Kusuo could figure, this cave was almost alive due to the amount of demon energy it absorbed during the Chapter Black Arc of the Ghost Files, allowing it to manifest its own territory. Not only that, but Kusuo, Yusuke, and the others weren't even under the compound; the door they'd taken bridged the space between Genkai's compound and Demon's Door Cave—which was where Yusuke's final showdown with Sensui took place.

Suddenly, as if popped like a balloon, Yusuke's menacing aura deflated. His energy snuffed out like a drowned candle without even a wisp of smoke to show it was ever lit.

"Sorry," Yusuke said. "I'm too old to let my blood get hot under my skin like that, though I guess in demon years, I'm still a snot-nosed brat." He shrugged and took a step away to lean back against the cavern wall.

"Honestly, Saiki, I'm kind of jealous. I would have killed for even half of your control back when I was in your shoes." His gaze turned sharp and almost accusing. "But then, you don't even have half of what you're used to anymore, do you?"

It was a rhetorical question, thank kami, because Kusuo wasn't sure he'd be able to keep his cool if it wasn't.

Fists clenched, Kusuo looked away to stare daggers as their makeshift camp. No blanket or sleeping bag or cot for Kusuo—though Yusuke had all that and then some—just an uneven bed of sharpened stalagmites. Kusuo had to coat himself in spirit energy as he slept to stop from being skewered. It was more exhausting than staying up all night, but it was a spiritual exhaustion rather than physical or mental.

In fact, oddly enough, Kusuo had never felt so mentally refreshed as he had these last five day-weeks. His sleep schedule was irrevocably changed so that he slept only four hours at night but took several 20-minute naps throughout the day when his spiritual exhaustion became too heavy and he practically passed out. As a consequence, Kusuo no longer had any real concept of time and only knew it had been five actual days because Yusuke had told him so.

Kusuo preferred to believe he wasn't being lied to if only because there was nothing he could do about it if he was.

"Okay," Yusuke said, pointing down the long, black tunnel that attached their cave to nothing. At least, Kusuo was pretty sure it led to nothing. Only five meters in, the tunnel turned black as pitch and none of the light they generated (because of course part of Kusuo's training was to keep himself coated in enough spiritual energy to give off a constant, if dim, glow) was enough to penetrate the darkness.

Except, of course, for that very first day of training when Yusuke had ordered Kusuo to power up and shoot a spirit gun down the tunnel using every drop of energy he had. It hadn't been much.

"It's been five dilated days of intense training, Kusuo. Let's see what you've got."

Nodding once, Kusuo turned to stare down the black tunnel. This was it.

If he was honest with himself—something his desperate circumstances forced him to be—then Kusuo would have to admit that he was tapped out. His spiritual energy had spiked dramatically the first few days, doubling on itself almost every day until the amount of power he held was equal to that of pre-Dark Tournament finals Yusuke. But then, on day four, he'd plateaued.

Kusuo had redoubled his efforts, trying to generate even a small amount more spirit energy, but nothing changed. He was stuck with the power-level of his seven-year-old self, well before his limiters became a daily necessity. It was frustrating. Infuriating.

Humiliating.

All these thoughts ran through Kusuo's head as he poured everything he had into the tip of his right index finger until the pinkish-red glow of his spirit energy was enough to chase away the shadows in the long tunnel for at least a kilometer. His energy stirred up an artificial wind that whipped up loose dust and rocks and flung them around the cave like tiny bullets. Kusuo winced when they snapped at his skin but gritted his teeth and bore it; pouring even more of himself into this one, do-or-die shot.

He forced out so much energy that the cave—already silent as death—grew so quiet that sound inverted, pounding on Kusuo's ear drums like he was 40-meters under water. The pressure ached down to his teeth, but he refused to give up and poured even more energy into his finger until the ball of energy was so bright, he couldn't look at it.

Then, just when Kusuo knew he couldn't hold it any longer, he opened his mouth and said, "Spirit gun."

The enormous ball of light exploded from Kusuo's fingertip and blasted down the tunnel for what seemed kilometers before finally vanishing as a pinprick. Suddenly exhausted, Kusuo slumped to his knees, still grasping his right wrist where he'd braced himself for the shot. The energy had knocked him back several centimeters, and there were scrapes on the cave floor from where his cast-off energy—the spirit energy he hadn't been able to bind to his spirit gun—had tried to glue his feet to the ground.

"Hey, not bad." Yusuke stepped up and lifted his own right hand. Standing sideways, he sighted down the tip of his index finger where a mass of violent red energy formed. It was smaller than Kusuo's, but it was also denser, brighter, and the wind it generated was so intense, Kusuo had to brace himself against a pair of stalagmites or risk being blown off his feet.

"My turn, now." The dense sphere on the end of Yusuke's finger instantly doubled in size and density. "Spirit gun."

The explosion was enough to make the entire cavern tremble, and the energy bullet was so large that it carved out the already unnaturally smooth edges of the tunnel as it barreled along until it finally disappeared kilometers into the distance. Kusuo gritted his teeth at the display; he hadn't even managed to touch the walls with his energy.

"I'm not just yanking your chain, kid," Yusuke said as he lowered his finger and half turned to look down on Kusuo with uncharacteristic levity. "For a normal human—even for a reborn—you have a crazy amount of energy. Especially considering your age. In fact, the only other human I know who could do what you do as young as you are was Kuwabara."

"And you," Kusuo said between clenched teeth.

Yusuke laughed. "Yeah, well, I had some help. A lot of it, actually."

He quirked his head at Kusuo in curiosity before asking, "Just how far did you get into the Ghost Files, anyway?"

"We stopped right before the tunnel to Demon World was completed," Kusuo said, because now wasn't the time to stay stubbornly silent. "You just fought against Sniper."

"Ah, yeah." Yusuke rubbed a hand through his hair with a sheepish grin. "I guess that explains it then."

Before Kusuo could ask what he meant—not that he would—Yusuke pressed a hand to the center of his chest and said, "I'm a demon."

Kusuo stared. "What?"

"Yeah. You would have found out in the next few episodes, but basically, my great-great-great-and then some old man was a king from Demon World named Raizen. He got on with my great-great-great-and then some old lady, but the demon gene stayed dormant. An…Adam-ism? Activism?"

"Atavism?" Kusuo offered, and Yusuke pointed.

"That's the one. Anyway, the way Koenma described it—and sorry if I get some stuff wrong, this was, like, twenty years ago—the demon gene stayed dormant until it found a host strong enough to cling to." Yusuke pointed to himself unnecessarily. "When I got hit by that car and came back to life, it jumpstarted my spirit energy, sort of like an old car battery getting juice for the first time in a while. After that, I kept getting stronger and stronger, and then Genkai gave me her spirit wave orb, and that was just the icing on the cake, I guess, because when Sensui killed me—"

"You died again?" Kusuo asked before he could stop himself. Yusuke offered him a predatory grin.

"What can I say? I'm one badass son of a bitch."

Kusuo was unimpressed.

"Anyway, dying again with all that power gave the long division—"

"That wasn't even close."

"—somewhere to go. It jumpstarted my heart, healed my wounds, grew out my hair, and gave me these badass tattoos." Yusuke sent red energy through his body—Demon energy, Kusuo realized; all this time, he'd just assumed the red was the result of Yusuke's blue spirit energy morphing and adapting as he grew older—raising the now familiar black tribal markings on his bare skin.

"Anyway," Yusuke said, letting his energy dissipate enough that the tattoos on his skin seemed to evaporate, "my point is that I have way too much energy right now. Too much of both energies, but even more demon energy than spirit energy. The older I get, the more demon energy I have, and it will keep growing and growing until it overwhelms my spirit energy entirely, and…" He paused, looking pained as he stared down at his open hands. "I can't let Genkai's last gift to me go to waste. To let all that energy and potential and…and…goodness get swallowed by my inner demon…"

Yusuke clenched his fists and shook his head. "Genkai gave me her spirit wave orb so that I could save the people I love, but I'm so much more than just human now, and I become less and less human as time goes by."

He almost looked like he would cry as he raised his head to look Kusuo in the eye and said, "Do you have any idea how much it hurts me to look at my wife and know, without a doubt, that I will have to spend eons and eons without her? Probably without my kids too, but Keiko…"

Yusuke gritted his teeth and looked away, but Kusuo understood. Probably better now than he could have only weeks before. Because now, Kusuo had Kokomi, and the thought that he might lose her someday formed a painful ache in his chest.

"Kusuo." Yusuke's voice was almost a bark as he turned on Kusuo with a sharp expression. Not angry, just…determined?

Yusuke shifted his hands to form a wide circle just over his abdomen, and the blue-white energy Kusuo remembered from the Ghost Files took shape between his curved fingers. Similar to the spirit gun he'd fired, this concentration of spirit energy Yusuke held was both smaller and denser than its pulsing power would suggest. Extremely dense. So dense, it glowed like a white-hot dwarf star between Yusuke's hands.

"I don't think I need to tell you what this is," Yusuke said, and Kusuo shook his head. It was the same orb Genkai had given him twenty years ago, but it was also wholly different.

"I've spent the last twenty years of my life hoarding every drop of spirit energy I had and funneling it into this sphere," Yusuke said. "When Genkai gave it to me, it had enough energy to power a city block, but today, it has enough energy to power all of Narima ward and then some."

Kusuo believed him.

"It's too soon for this," Yusuke said, his voice wry. "I thought I wouldn't find a worthy successor until I was as old and wrinkled as Genkai." He smirked. "And considering how long that will take someone with my level of demon energy, you better believe I wasn't holding out much hope for humanity. But then you had to go and do both the smartest and stupidest thing you ever could and give up your psychic powers."

The orb of white energy pulsed between Yusuke's hands, but despite the pain, Kusuo couldn't bring himself to look away. It was as if the orb was…calling to him.

"New psychic energy is made up predominantly by demon energy, and while spirit energy and demon energy aren't completely incompatible—Kurama and I are proof enough of that—the existence of demon energy, especially in the large amounts you had, makes it all the more difficult to introduce outside spirit energy without serious consequences." Yusuke's expression turned grim. "Since you saw me get the orb from Genkai in the Ghost Files, you know that it's never easy to accept outside energy as your own, so you'll have to forgive me when I say I wouldn't have even attempted this if you still had your psychic powers."

If I still had my powers, Kusuo thought, still annoyed with himself, I wouldn't need your energy.

Now though? Now, Kusuo needed it. Needed it like he needed air. Like he needed water. Like he needed—

Let's not get sentimental.

"I don't have to tell you that this will be unpleasant. In fact, it will probably be the most painful thing that you have ever—or will ever—endure. But, if you do endure it, and endure it well, then you will come out the other side not just stronger, you'll come out ready and able to protect the people you love."

"I don't want to be your successor," Kusuo said, knowing it was a moot point. He'd already learned the spirit gun, the shot gun, and even the spirit wave—both halves of it. Even without the orb, he was already to Yusuke what Yusuke had been to Genkai.

Minus the trust, battle bonds, and emotional connections.

"Sorry, Kid," Yusuke said, unknowingly mirroring Kusuo's own thoughts. "But at this point, you don't have much of a choice."

Taking the orb with both hands, Kusuo pressed it into his chest until his body sucked the energy in like water on a bone-dry sponge.

For a moment, there was no change. He did feel unexplainably energized—his whole body practically buzzed—but it wasn't much different from the feeling of using his psychic powers without his limiter.

The pain hit him all at once. It burned him from the inside out, as if his blood was replaced by acid. His muscles seized, and his jaw clenched so hard he could have shattered his teeth without noticing because the pain was just that bad. The foreign energy chewed away at his cells, tunneled through his pours to leak from his skin like blue smoke. Smoldered in the marrow of his bones until everything turned to liquid.

His brain was on fire.

He was on fire.

Kusuo clawed at his arms and legs and chest and face, trying to rip his skin away to expose the magma trying so determinedly to escape the marrow of his bones. Everything hurt.

It hurt.

It hurt so badly, Kusuo could barely feel anything at all. His mind went blank of every thought, every sense. He couldn't see, smell, taste, hear. All he could do was touch. Touch, touch, touch, touch, and every touch burned worse than the last. It was eating him up. Devouring him from the inside out. He lashed out, trying to find something that hurt worse than the pain inside him but every brush against the outside world just made the inner pain that much worse.

Death.

It was the only thing Kusuo could think.

Death.

It wasn't fear driving the thought.

Death.

It wasn't even the pain.

Death.

It was hope.

Just let me die.

Nothing was worth this.

Nothing.

No, Kusuo somehow thought through the pain. He's worth it.

Kusuo dove back into the pain, welcomed it. Devoured it back.

Because Yuuta was worth everything.