Chapter 12

After

Nozumi slept three hours at best, and yet, by the time the sun dawned over Hanging Next Island, she'd slipped deep into a tracking trance. With tea warm in her belly and an opal cupped between her fingertips, she delved into the connections each man bore with Yukina, seeking out the one that called her most.

She pushed aside Kuwabara with dogged persistence. Hanging Neck Island had been woefully incorrect, but it had been right when she'd stood in Kuwabara's shoes. This place mattered. To him.

Not to Yukina.

Unless no other options presented themselves, she wouldn't pursue more of his memories, but despite her best efforts, Kuwabara's connections clamored for attention. More than once, they tricked her, pulling her down pathways and across distances before she recognized them as false leads and set them forcefully aside.

Best she could, she tried to focus on Kurama or Urameshi, finding them tied to the green and blue hues that danced within the opal and swirled out across the planes. Some beckoned her through the strange reaches of Human World. To a far-off city named Sarayashiki. To a well-loved—but not well-manicured—garden bursting with life. To an old shrine tucked in remote mountains. Nozumi recognized each location from the stories they'd told her, and so, one by one, she discarded them.

Yukina wouldn't be found in her usual haunts.

Nozumi had to search elsewhere.

The more fruitful connections were those that wove a trail back to Demon World. One returned her to Tourin and Urameshi's skyscraping tower. Another brought her to a trackers guild hall in the capital of Gandara. She cast both to the wayside. They were too recent, too tied up in the men's grief and their hunt for Yukina.

Which left her stuck, with no route forward left to pursue.

Except Hiei.

He'd given Nozumi nothing to work with, no inkling of how or why he'd come to care for Yukina, but she knew he loved her. With a bone deep ache, she knew he loved her.

Perhaps that was enough.

Nozumi honed in on her sense of Hiei, trying as she had so many times in her life to imagine the world from his perspective, to see through his crimson eyes. Shifting colors in the opal called to her, drew her deep into the stone's interior—and then thrust her out the other side. She plunged into a pell-mell chaos storm, into riotous gold and seething crimson and encroaching black.

Fragments of a lifetime crashed over her.

In one, she was enraged, striking bloody a piece of human filth in a purple suit, pummeling the monster within an inch of his life—only to be stopped by Yukina's emphatic plea. Without warning, the world upended. When her sense of herself returned, Nozumi perched in a tree, surveying the grounds of the mountain shrine, watching Yukina through glass windows. Moments later, she was in Alaric, a Hiruseki stone dropping into her hands, Mukuro staring back at her beneath a fall of fiery red hair.

And finally, after a score of fractured recollections and illegible memories, she stood amidst a blizzard, snow pelting at her from all sides. At her feet, a tomb protruded from the snow drifts. Lonely. Untended.

With a gasp, Nozumi jerked from her trance. The shattered opal in her palm bit into her flesh, and she flung the shards away, shivering violently from a chill that no longer existed.

Just as they had the morning prior, the others had gathered.

"Well?" Urameshi asked.

Nozumi rubbed at the gooseflesh broken out across her arms. Met Urameshi's gaze. Avoided Hiei's.

"The Koorime's island."

"Okay, but seriously," Urameshi said for the dozenth time, "would Yukina really go back to that icy shit hole?"

As she had for the last twenty minutes, Nozumi held her tongue. She didn't point out that Urameshi had finally stopped pretending Yukina's disappearance was the product of a kidnapping—though that had been a long time coming. Nor did she point out that there'd been no reason to pay her an exorbitant fee if they were going to ignore the results of her work so easily. Instead, she simply packed her belongings, returning her blanket and canteen to her haversack, then wrapped her flaking, painful wrists with fresh cloth. She couldn't be more than a handful of days out from her molt, and every accidental brush against her scales sent dull aches radiating through her flesh.

"Maybe." Kuwabara wrung his hands together fretfully, continuing on the back-and-forth stomp he'd started as soon as Nozumi mentioned the Koorime. The beginnings of a path took shape beneath his boots, the grass crumpling under his weight. "She didn't hate all the ice apparitions."

"If that isn't a ringing endorsement, I don't know what is," Sueko muttered. She stood at the fringes of the group, her arms crossed over her chest, her illusion of vast energy utterly abandoned. From her narrowed eyes to her tapping foot, she was near indistinguishable from her childhood self. All contempt and self-righteous indignation.

The resemblance was so spot on that Nozumi could only laugh. For the first time since the afternoon prior, she addressed her directly. "Shush, Ko."

Sueko rolled her eyes, but obeyed.

A truce had found them, just as it always did.

Lurching to a standstill—and ignoring Sueko entirely—Kuwabara faced Nozumi. "You really think she's there?"

Nozumi shrugged. "I can't say for sure, but I tracked your connections, and that's where I ended up." She didn't admit that it had been Hiei's bonds specifically that she'd followed. If he didn't want to reveal his feelings for Yukina, so be it, but that meant she could keep secrets, too. Standing, she swung her bag over one shoulder, then squirmed her arm through the other strap, her scales protesting wickedly. "Only way to confirm is to see for ourselves."

"Yeah…" Urameshi drawled, "about that. See, the Koorime don't love men. Us lot—" he indicated himself and his friends with the broad sweep of a hooked thumb "—aren't on their guest list."

"True," Kurama agreed. "But Nozumi and Sueko might be tolerated."

"Hn. They're still outsiders."

"No argument there," Kurama said, "but last I'd heard, the Koorime aren't in the business of attacking any woman who finds her way to their island. It's gender that poses the crime, not trespassing."

"Uh," Kuwabara said, "is that true? I thought it's more that… no one finds their island period. Guy or girl."

Though agreeing with Kuwabara appeared to pain him, Hiei nodded. "Precisely."

Wry pleasure tinged Kurama's answer. "Also true. But most people do not have the capabilities of a Jagan at their disposal."

Her gaze snapping involuntarily to Hiei's forehead, Nozumi clenched the strap of her bag so tightly her talons bit into her palms, her knuckles gone bone-white. The Jagan. The eye—and the power it promised—that had torn her and Hiei asunder. It had been with them, all this while, but hidden as it was beneath the cloth bound under Hiei's hairline, it was nearly forgettable. The figment of a bad dream rather than the curse of her reality.

Now, though…

That self-imposed ruse had met its end.

If Kurama were a cat rather than a fox, he might've purred with satisfaction as he asked, "Would you do us the honor, Hiei?"

Hiei's answer was wordless.

With deft fingers, he untied the cloth that hid the Jagan and let it flutter from his forehead. At first, Nozumi almost missed the slit across his skin, but then the eye opened—and a visceral tremor wracked through her. She could've sworn it had made a sound, the sort of eerie whine emitted by a blade against a whetstone, but no one else reacted, and a moment later, she'd forgotten the noise entirely as the Jagan drew her in, its purple depths exquisite, yet haunting.

Hiei's natural eyes closed, and the Jagan pulsed with energy. His body seemed to ripple with it, even his hair standing straighter on end, as if called to attention.

She couldn't fathom it. How he'd thrown away everything that lay between them for that eye, for this power. Everything. Even her. And for what? He'd already been powerful. The strongest demon she'd ever known. And yet he'd needed more. He'd needed the Jagan.

And now here he was. Using it to locate the new girl he loved.

"Found it," he announced, after no more than five seconds, though it had felt like a lifetime. The Jagan closed. He retied the cloth—morphed back into the demon she recognized.

But he wasn't.

He never would be again.

Urameshi whistled and clapped Hiei on the back. "Damn, short stuff. That was fast."

Hiei responded with a pointed step out of Urameshi's reach.

"So what exactly is our plan?" Kuwabara asked. "Send Nozumi and Sueko up there to knock on doors and ask for Yukina? That's it?"

"It's a start." Kurama looked first to Nozumi, then to Sueko. "If you're willing, of course."

Nozumi fumbled for her voice. "Yeah. That's fine." After all, her clients never usually accompanied her on the hunt. Traveling without these men would be a return to form, not a deviation. "What can we expect to find there? A town, it sounds like."

"Beats me," Urameshi said.

Kuwabara flapped a hand to quiet him. "Yeah, it's a village. And it'll be snowing. Yukina said it's always snowing." A frown darkened his brow. "You aren't dressed for that. Here. Take this." He shimmied out of his jacket and pressed it into Nozumi's hands despite her protests. "Urameshi, give Sueko your coat. Come on."

"Uh, sure." Urameshi undid his zipper and tossed his windbreaker at Sueko. It fluttered to her feet, and she bent disdainfully to pick it up. He shrugged. "It's not a parka, but at least it's something."

"And when we're done?" Nozumi asked. "How will we depart the island and reconvene with you?"

Urameshi swept a hand over his mane, chewing on his inner cheek absently. "Great question."

"Hiei could keep tabs on you," Kuwabara suggested. "Check in with the Jagan—"

"No." Absolutely not.

Not in this lifetime or any that followed.

If she'd offended him, Hiei gave no indication.

Kurama cleared his throat. "Kuwabara can open a portal. Each day at dawn, noon, and dusk. When you're ready, you take it back to us. It's not the most precise solution, but it'll do."

Nozumi nodded. "That works."

"Wait," Urameshi said. "How are you going to know if Yukina is there? You've never met her. You don't know what she looks like."

"Don't worry about that." In her mind's eye, Yukina appeared, just as Kuwabara saw her. Delicate and small, pale blue hair drawn back, crimson gaze wide and enchanting. "I'll know her when I see her."

A beat passed, in which they were clearly debating whether they believed her, but then Kuwabara nodded. The shadows beneath his eyes were as dark as ever, but hope glimmered in the depths of his black irises, bright and fierce. "So, shrimp, where's the island?"

Hiei wet his lips, then stiffly, without looking at Nozumi, announced. "I need the atlas."

Urameshi snorted. "Damn. The assholes who raised you really didn't believe in manners, huh?"

Willing numb detachment into her every nerve ending, Nozumi fished the book of maps from her bag and held it out to Hiei—returning it to its original owner. Their fingers brushed, only barely so, yet his heat set her ablaze.

Grunting his thanks, Hiei flipped through the maps until he landed on a page depicting a region in Gandara. He stabbed a finger onto the northwest corner. "There."

Kuwabara required a few more maps to get his bearings, Hiei zooming him out to a wider view of Demon World and Gandara's relative position compared to Tourin. While they worked, Nozumi slipped into the human's jacket, buttoning herself into its padded confines. Once the atlas was back in her bag, she shouldered it yet again.

When Kuwabara tore open the portal, she stepped through and never once glanced back.

A wintery hellscape enveloped Nozumi on the far side of the dimension door. White stretched in all directions. Underfoot, snowpack crunched with her every movement. Gusts of wind sent snowdrifts scattering across the ground, gathering and reforming in the space between blinks, and snowflakes blotted out the sky. Everywhere she looked was white on white on white.

How anyone lived in a place this void of color Nozumi couldn't begin to fathom.

At once, the chill bit into her, Kuwabara's coat giving up the ghost near instantly.

As Sueko stepped out of the portal and it flickered closed, Nozumi rifled through her bag, pulling forth every spare article of clothing she possessed. Quick as she could—her dry scales a constant source of discomfort—she shucked the jacket and pulled on layer after layer, tunic over shirt over long-sleeve. The result was cumbersome, her range of motion pathetically hindered, but as she struggled into the coat once more, the cold fell away a bit, retreating before the breadth of her full wardrobe.

Sueko followed suit, and while she worked, Nozumi fashioned a scarf from spare bandages, then crafted a second for her sister. When they were finished, Nozumi could barely see Sueko's eyes peeking from the gap between her bandage scarf and the hood of Urameshi's windbreaker.

"Stylish," Sueko noted.

The whipping winds tore the word away, but Nozumi laughed. "A true fashion statement we're making, isn't it?"

Stuffing her hands deep within her protective layers, Sueko surveyed the gusting snow. "So. Where to, exactly?"

"I'm not sure." Nozumi squinted into the storm, searching for any sign of life, any indication of the Koorime's village, but in the whiteout conditions, no clues availed themselves. "I suppose I was foolish to think the island would be just the village, huh?"

"Apparently."

"Nothing for it but to start looking, I guess." Adjusting the cloth folded over her nose, Nozumi spun in a circle, stopping at random. With a shrug to Sueko, she started off. "Here we go."

They trekked in relative silence for a time, speaking only to warn one another of hidden ice or unexpected snow depth, but eventually, Sueko cleared her throat. "I'm sorry. About yesterday. I was out of line."

"Yeah," Nozumi agreed. "You absolutely were."

Unfazed, Sueko plowed onward. "It's just… Hiei is such an ass. He's always been such an ass. I mean, has he even apologized? He up and abandoned you, and has he even acknowledged it?"

"Ko—"

"No." Sueko lurched to a standstill, grabbing Nozumi's hand and tugging her to a half. "He owes you that much."

"It's been thirty years, Sueko. He doesn't owe me anything."

Sueko looked ready to argue, her breath puffing past her scarf in a billowing white cloud, but Nozumi pulled her into motion before she could. "Come on. We need to keep moving or this storm will swallow us whole." They fell into lockstep, into the familiar rhythm that had risen between them over the course of two decades of tracking. After a moment, Nozumi said, "You're right, though. He's an ass. Always has been."

"But…?" Sueko prodded.

Nozumi snorted. Her breath condensed as moisture in her makeshift scarf, sticking it to her nose as she admitted, "But I lied to you, a few days ago. I don't hate him. I don't even want to hate him."

"That's fine. I can hate him enough for the both of us."

"That's not—"

Sueko bumped her shoulder into Nozumi's. "Kidding. Promise." She kicked up a gout of snow, and it spiraled off on the breeze, lost amongst the thousands of falling flakes. "And I am sorry for how I snapped at Kurama. A different demon might've killed us for my insolence, for one thing. But that aside, your past with Hiei isn't my story to tell."

"It's okay, Ko." Nozumi returned the shoulder bump. "Promise."

The quiet that gathered between them then was comfortable. Easy. The silence of companions who didn't need to speak in order to understand each other.

They trudged through the snow and swirling white, eyes peeled for any sign of a village. Nozumi hoped they were headed in a straight line, but it was impossible to be certain. The wind obliterated their footsteps in only seconds, erasing the trail they'd left, and the landscape remained unchanging. Snowdrifts. Occasional rocky outcroppings—always coated in white. And everywhere, falling snow.

After what Nozumi guessed was an hour, they reached the edge of the island. Far, far below, free of the ice and snow, the demon planes stretched in all directions. Mountains like the fangs of a beast spiked from the earth straight ahead, and rivers ran like ribbons through trees in a thousand striking shades of red and green and purple. She soaked it in, breathless with wonder.

This view was the most beautiful map she'd ever seen.

But it wasn't the Koorime's village—and so far, they'd spotted not so much as a hint that a soul lived upon this floating island.

She allowed herself a moment longer to drink in her fill of the landscape below, then turned back to the island and its billowing snowstorm. "What do you think?" she asked. "Should we follow the edge? Or head back in?"

Sueko puzzled the question over, squinting into the oppressive white. "If the ice apparitions are as reclusive as they sound, they're probably not near the edge, right?"

Good point.

And so they forged back into the frigid storm, the cold settling into their bones.

Hours slipped away inside the blizzard.

Nozumi attempted to keep their course straight and true, on a different angle from their original path, but no matter how far they hiked, they found no opposite edge of the island. It couldn't be that large, and yet, they never stumbled upon the village either. Lost within the snow, there was no way to make heads or tails of anything.

Before too long, the cold had worked its way beneath Nozumi's layers, raising gooseflesh along her arms and setting her teeth chattering. She trembled, though she tried to fight it, and each new step was a slog, an effort her body protested with ever increasing volume.

More than once, she cast her awareness outward, trying to track the Koorime village or Yukina or anything, but her senses returned nothing to her. Maybe it was the lack of amplifiers in her system, the fact that she couldn't brew the tea that strengthened her powers. Or maybe it was the storm drowning out all else. Or maybe there was no village.

Maybe this was the wrong island.

Maybe all that awaited them here was a cold death beneath the endless snow.

Whenever those thoughts rose, she banished them, focusing on her right foot, then her left, then her right again. On and on. One in front of the other.

But it grew harder.

And harder.

Sueko slowed, too, and more than once, she stumbled. Each time, Nozumi drew her upright, murmured an encouragement, and they set off again. But no matter how far they walked, there was no village, no reprieve from the whipping winds and falling snow.

And though she wouldn't admit it aloud, Nozumi knew.

They were lost.

Sueko fell for the umpteenth time, slipping on a patch of ice and tumbling into an embankment.

Blinking snow from her eyelashes, Nozumi stumbled after her. She fumbled for a grip on Sueko's windbreaker, attempting to haul her back to her feet, but she couldn't get purchase, her fingers too numb to manage a grip. Shivering so hard her muscles hurt, she collapsed into the snow at Sueko's side.

"We have to get up," Nozumi said.

"C— can't," Sueko mumbled through chattering teeth.

And it was true. Nozumi couldn't either. She wasn't even sure she wanted to. She was so cold, so utterly, miserably cold. All she wanted was to close her eyes. To sleep.

Truthfully, she wasn't even sure why they were here anymore. In this storm. On this… island? Was it an island? She couldn't be sure. Couldn't remember.

But if she slept… If she slept, it would be better. She was sure it would be better.

She found Sueko's hand—or what she hoped was her hand—and she plopped her palm atop it, settling for that simple touch since she couldn't curl her fingers enough to snag Sueko's. "Twenty minutes," she murmured. "Nap for twenty minutes. Then we go."

Nozumi woke to fingers pressed over her mouth.

A panicked terror—animalistic and desperate—seized her, and she bit, sinking her incisors into tender flesh. A yelp answered, and a shadow moved above her as the hand pulled away.

"You're alive," said a soft, feminine voice. Relief ran through each word, clear and poignant, but Nozumi couldn't place the speaker. Whoever they were wasn't Sueko. "Thank goodness." The shadow bent closer, and for just a moment, Nozumi made out a swathe of blue hair against the all consuming white, then her eyes fell shut, unable to remain open any longer, the brief spike of adrenaline that had fueled her already fading.

"Stay with me," said the voice. "Please. Stay with me."

But she couldn't.

She just couldn't.

When next Nozumi woke, blankets ensconced her, and somewhere close, a fire crackled.

She regained sense of herself slowly. She noticed her exhausted muscles first. Then the weak trembles that still wracked through her every few seconds. Then, last of all, the pain at her wrists and waist, her shoulders and collarbones.

Her molt.

Here in full.

Long minutes crept past as she pieced her memories together. She and Sueko had gotten lost in the blizzard. Gone hypothermic. Fallen into the snow. And then they'd been rescued? By a blue haired demon?

She cracked open her eyes, and a wooden ceiling swam into view. Firelight danced along the walls, sending shadows skittering over the paneled wood. It was dark enough despite the fire that she thought it might be evening or full blown nighttime, but with the snowstorm outside, she couldn't be certain. Perhaps the sun was simply weaker here than she was used to.

As a test more than anything, she tried to sit up. She failed, yet the effort proved taxing enough that she moaned as she collapsed back into the mattress beneath her.

"Nozumi?"

Sueko.

Leveraging all her willpower, she rolled onto her side. Across the room, another bed was pushed up against the wall, and Sueko stared back at her, bundled in as many blankets as Nozumi herself.

"Found the village," Sueko said hoarsely. A fit of coughing wracked through her. Once it passed, she got out a few more words before more coughs seized her. "A Koorime saved us. Mio."

As if the name had been a summons, a door creaked open, somewhere out of Nozumi's line of sight. The blizzard howled for a moment, a gust of chilly air flooding into the cabin, but then the door closed, and the quiet returned.

"You're awake!" Quick footsteps approached Nozumi's bed. A young girl knelt at the bedside, a tray with two covered bowls atop it in her hands. She set the tray aside and beamed at Nozumi, laying the back of her hand against Nozumi's forehead. "I'm so glad you've woken. You gave me such a scare. You're Nozumi, right? That's what Sueko said."

The ice apparition was petite, flitting about like a hummingbird as she darted to the fire and added fresh wood. Her kimono swirled around her, its pale blue cloth only a few shades lighter than her hair. After a beat, she returned to Nozumi's side. "I brought you broth. Should help warm you. But I can do a bit more first."

Nozumi wasn't sure what that meant until the Koorime pressed her palms atop Nozumi's shoulders, closed her eyes, and let her energy wash across her still icy flesh. The chill lifted from her in infinitesimal degrees, barely noticeable, except that her shivers grew slightly less frequent. Her mind still foggy, Nozumi realized this must be Mio, the apparition Sueko said saved them, and somehow, she was using her energy to steal the cold from Nozumi's body—an indirect cure for hypothermia.

"Thank you," Nozumi gritted out when Mio rocked backward, withdrawing her hands.

"Oh no. None of that." Mio flapped her away. "Here." She helped ease Nozumi into a seated position, then passed her one of the bowls from the tray. Steaming broth waited within, and Nozumi sipped it cautiously. Mio brought the other bowl to Sueko, then stood between their beds, hands clasped in front of her chest. "I'm so glad you're both okay. I was worried I found you too late."

Sueko swallowed a mouthful, then asked, "How did you find us?"

"Elder Haruka sensed you and sent me out looking."

"Please pass her our thanks," Nozumi murmured. Each word hurt her beleaguered throat, but she meant every one, and she'd say them again a thousand times. If not for Haruka, she and Sueko would likely have died in that snowbank.

Demure in the face of Nozumi's appreciation, Mio scuffed a foot across the floorboards. She peeked up through her bangs. "If you don't mind me asking, how did you end up on our island?"

Before she could answer, a cough seized Nozumi. It rattled through her so violently she nearly spilled her soup. Mio rushed to her side, rubbing a hand along her spine. The girl meant well, but she pressed against loose, weak scales and a pained gasp choked past Nozumi's cough. At once, Mio leapt back.

"Sorry," Nozumi said. "Not your fault."

"I noticed your skin," Mio admitted. "I had to change you out of your soaked clothes, and… Are you okay? Can I heal you?"

Nozumi shook her head. "I'm molting. It's…" The remnants of her coughing fit interrupted her. After a moment, she managed to continue. "Just need to get through it. Sleep if I can."

Across the room, Sueko piped up. "Hot water helps. Softens the scales a bit."

"We have hot springs," Mio offered excitedly, bouncing on her toes. But a moment later, her enthusiasm dimmed. "I shouldn't bring you there yet, though. Not until your body temperature normalizes. If you went now, your heart might give out."

"No hot sprints, then," Nozumi said with a hoarse laugh. "Not yet." She sipped down another gulp of broth, letting it soothe her throat before revealing, "As for why we're here, we're looking for someone. An ice apparition named Yukina."

Instantly, Mio's demeanor changed. Her eyes, previously warm despite their icy hue, shuttered, and in moments, she'd gathered their empty bowls and retreated to the door. "I'm sorry," she said. "I don't know a Yukina." Without a further word, she was gone.

Sueko groaned and flopped into her blankets. "Off to a great start, huh?"

No.

No, they were not.

Sleep was an elusive, flighty beast.

Nozumi tossed and turned through the night, kept company by Sueko's easy breathing. The cold left her, banished by Mio and the blankets and the fire, but every time rest felt close at hand, she'd shift in such a way that her scales began screaming. The pain took ages to fade, and without fail, just as it did, she'd bump herself again or adjust her weight or simply breathe too deeply, and the agony came rushing back.

She tried her best to keep quiet. To bite back moans and tears. Sueko wouldn't judge her. She knew the pain of molting just as intimately as Nozumi. But molting was something Nozumi ached to do in private. She hated how vulnerable it left her. How ugly. How broken.

In the morning, when Mio peeked her head into the cabin, Nozumi was already waiting for her, fully dressed in the warm, layered outfit Mio had laid out for them.

"Morning," Mio greeted.

"The hot springs?" Nozumi asked, past the point of pleasantries, the pain gripping her too tightly for manners.

Eyes shining with empathy, Mio gestured her out into the storm.

They traipsed down a snow-covered path between a row of cabins. Blue-haired ice maidens moved beyond the windows or walked between buildings, as at home in the swirling snow as Nozumi was on a hot summer day. A few gawked as Mio led her past, but most paid them no mind, and in moments, they'd left the village behind them, headed into the snowy crags beyond.

A hundred meters outside the town, the hot springs made themselves known. Steam rose from the water, spiraling into the sky overhead.

Relief flooded Nozumi at the mere sight, and she stripped quickly, then waded in, sinking beneath the surface up to her chin. She sighed, tension seeping from her body, and managed to find a rock to perch atop, still submerged past her shoulders.

Hiei had taught her this trick—the near magical balm of hot, almost scalding water—and in all the years since he'd disappeared, she'd clung to it as the only true means of reprieve from molting she'd ever discovered.

"Thank you," she said to Mio.

The apparition giggled, as bright and pure as a chiming bell. She settled beside the hot spring, seated in the snow as if it were nothing. A dusting of snowflakes gathered in her bangs, matching the crown growing atop Nozumi's head. "We don't use them much," she said with a conspiratorial glance back toward the village. "Too hot."

Of course.

Their loss.

"You should know that you slept three days," Mio confided. "I don't know if anyone is waiting for you, but if they are… I'm sure they're worried."

Nozumi thought of Hiei and Kuwabara, of Urameshi and Kurama, attempting to picture them worried. About Yukina? Easy. About Nozumi or Sueko? Impossible.

"Thank you for saving us, Mio. I know you don't want to hear those thanks, but I must say them."

The tiny maiden perched her chin atop her knees, her arms wrapped tight around her shins. "I would never let someone die if I could save them. Never."

Nozumi smiled. "I believe you."

The men had described this island's occupants as frigid, heartless creatures, but Mio made a mockery of that description. No semblance of monstrosity lurked in her kind, open soul.

Around her, the hot springs burbled, steam eddying over the water's surface. Hidden below the swirling mist, Nozumi pressed at her scales, willing them to slough off. To slide away. To leave her be. Once they did, it'd be a day or two before the new scales beneath stiffened into place, protective and healthy for months to come.

On the embankment, Mio shifted. Cleared her throat. Worried her lip.

Nozumi paid her no mind. If she had something to say, she'd say it. In the meantime, Nozumi could be patient.

It took another fifteen minutes before Mio found her tongue—her courage. When she did, she spoke at little more than a whisper. "Sorry about last night. I left you abruptly."

Sunk into the water up to her ears, Nozumi only hummed in answer. She breathed through her nose, each exhale a plume of steam.

"Yukina…" Mio trailed off. After a sharp shake of her head—as if banishing a voice Nozumi couldn't hear—she started again, "I've never met her. She's not here on the island. Hasn't been for years."

At that, Nozumi sat up enough to speak. "But you know of her?"

"Oh yes. We all know of her. Her and the imiko."

Nozumi frowned—imiko?—but said nothing, unwilling to overstep and risk silencing Mio when she was already so skittish.

"Yukina is taught to us as a cautionary tale," Mio continued, still whisper soft. "Or her mother is, anyway. Hina." Mio swallowed, sneaking a glance back at the village. Satisfied they remained alone, she turned back to Nozumi. "Hina had… a relationship with a demon. A male fire demon. We don't do that. Have children by men, I mean. It's not safe. But Hina did, and she gave birth to twins—to Yukina and the imiko."

Nozumi hardly dared breathe. Urameshi and the others had most certainly not told her this part of Yukina's story.

"The elders say that children born from men are monsters, cursed to bring violence and death to all they meet." Mio bit her lip, squeezing her eyes shut as if she feared the imiko might leap from the snow and strike her down then and there. "When the twins were born, the elders cast the imiko out. Threw him from the island. Hina… She never forgave them. She took her own life, leaving Yukina behind. My mother—Rui—raised her. But then Yukina left us, too, years ago, searching for her brother."

Silence stretched.

Perhaps the men hadn't been wrong in their description of the Koorime. Perhaps Mio was the exception, not the rule, amongst her cold, cruel kin. Yet even still… Tossing a newborn to its death? That was more than cruelty. That was unadulterated malice, unforgivable and horrifying.

No wonder Yukina had never found her brother.

But Mio wasn't done.

She blinked snow from her lashes, her small fists curled into white-knuckled balls against her shins. "He came here, you know. Almost twenty-five years ago. He promised vengeance—against Hina, against our people. My mother spoke with him, told him of Hina's fate and of Yukina." Mio paused, lost in an imagining of a story she'd clearly heard many times. "The elders forbid speaking his name, but Mother says it. When she knows she can't be heard."

Mio wets her lips. She squared her shoulders and raised her chin, gathering all her might.

"Hiei."

Nozumi's world ground to a standstill. A preternatural chill leeched away the hot spring's warmth.

Hiei?

As if in answer, Mio said it again. Louder this time.

"Hiei, the imiko."