Second Try

Disclaimer: I don’t own Yuu Yuu Hakusho, or any of its characters. Those belong to Yoshihiro Togashi-sama, who made a lot more out of them than I ever could have. ^^;; I just do fanfiction for fun, and earn no monetary rewards for writing it. Reviews are, of course, worth as much as silver.

Title: Second Try
Chapter Thirteen: Concession
Word Count: 7,229
Anime: Yuu Yuu Hakusho
Pairing: HieixKurama, ?xKurama
Warning: Angst, violence, language, shounen ai
Author: Kita Kitsune
Date: Sunday, December 27, 2009
Miscellaneous Notes: There are mild references to a doujin and a fanfic, in this chapter(I realized it as I was writing). The doujin is “Dream Crime”(Kurama kidnapping Yukina) and the fanfic is “Fond Memories”(referring to Hiei having a ‘perfect memory’) by Morgan D. [Here’s the url for the fanfic—it and its sequel “Embracing a Knife of Ice” are both great(they’re the second and third story-links from the top). x3~ http://morgan-d.net/eien/eien.html ]

Waha, there’re so many Sensui references in this chapter, too~! xD I hope you like them, SirPsychoSexy-san. I very much tried, but please don’t kill me if I completely botched Itsuki’s characterization(you’ll get the random German reference at the end, I’m sure, as I’m fairly certain what’s referred to there would be on the Black Chapter tape. I love Germany, but yeah…). ;.;

Sunday, January 24, 2010: Wai, first post of the new decade and year~! Ahaha. Updates will be much, much slower(shifting to once a month, after all, sorry! x.x) because this semester is just calling rank. Five books for one class(two readings per week, a summary due for each reading), four for another, and the other one’s a philosophy class with lots of print-out readings(and summaries for each reading, for that, as well). On top of that all, I’ve got the Japanese Class regimen and my Copy Desk job to attend to(as well as the new girlfriend after about a year of being single, so gah, time for writing fanfics is being eaten[this last one being one of the better ways possible, of course]~!)! x///x

Never fear, though, I’ve got most of the next chapter written, so that’ll likely be out in February. :3

BlueUtopiah-san: You’re aliiiiiiiiive~! I was worried life had swallowed you whole. ;.;~ Hopefully they’re still in-character(obviously my biggest worry, as we get submerged deeper and deeper into my little machinations of plot-attempts)… Not sure this chapter is quite up to par with the previous ones, but I felt like I had to post before it got any later in the month and I might be swallowed by classes and work, again. x.o;;; Hope you enjoy this update whenever you get the chance to read it~! :3

Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone, if I don’t post by then~!

: : : : : : :

~The Previous Night~

Brown eyes watched him lustfully from below, the earthy depths drawing him in, drowning him.

“Kurama…” The sound was purred, and he carelessly moved a few ebony strands from the other’s face with lithe fingertips, revealing more of that familiar visage. Strong arms wound around the youko, pulling him down, flush with his lover’s heaving chest as their mouths locked, tongues sparring briefly. They drew apart too soon, a trail of spit hanging momentarily before it snapped. He could see the golden reflection of his eyes in the brunet’s gaze, below.

“Kurama…!” It was a gasp, one that had his lover clutching to him, arching off the bed as they—

: : :

Something stirred him from the memory-dream, and the kitsune lay still for a moment, letting reality sink back into his body. A hand trailed up to one side of his head, to confirm this—no, just common human ears, no sensitive furry ones, no tail… He let out a slow, lengthy sigh. At last, Kurama turned over, absently glancing out past his window, towards the rosy tapestry that polluted the dark night sky beyond with the light of downtown Tokyo. The stars were invisible—but what could he have expected? It was not as though this were Makai—or, even Makai, the sight of the twinkling pinpricks above as rare as the stormless night that revealed them. He didn’t bother to check his alarm clock—it was far too early to be up, and he would be drifting off once more, soon enough.

Why did he think of Yomi, now? That youkai was long dead, the companion-turned-lover-turned-annoyance taken care of, blinded over a millennium ago. He couldn’t imagine that foolish, hot-headed, spoiled goat lasting more than a few days without his sight. He’d likely killed himself on the spot after he realized that Kurama wasn’t returning to save him. Yomi had been so obsessed with him… The redhead exhaled into his pillow, quietly, turning his back to the window, and dutifully closing his eyes.

The images of a life long lived played over his mind. Black hair, dark brown eyes…

His thoughts began to drift back towards sleep, even as they settled on an errant, mildly disturbing and possibly foreboding realization that would be forgotten hours later, in the pale saffron glow of proper morning.

Perhaps that is who Kanisawa-san reminds me of.

: : :

Even from across the stadium, his fox was stridently vibrant against the dull blues and blacks of his team mates beside as well as the wall behind him. He saw Urameshi stiffen, and did not need to glance to confirm that Toguro behind him was engaging in some sort of cat-and-mouse game with the boy’s sanity. Slowly, his eyes tore themselves from the redhead to gloss over the other members of the team. It halted on the Masked Fighter, at the far right. The crow youkai eyed her in the scant few seconds he had before Toguro Otouto turned and thus gave Bui and himself the cue to follow. That woman’s mask was a hindrance, but he caught the telltale sniff of anger at the edges of her reiki.

Reiki. Interesting… Not to say it wasn’t uncommon. After all the tall, gangly carrot-top and Urameshi were both fully human, and Kurama certainly had done a number on his human disguise when he’d designed it. Keeping his face carefully impassive—Ani had long ago learned to read his expression, even with the metallic mask in place—he turned over the thought in his mind.

Anger, at Toguro? For her gaze seemed not to shift from his visage, at least not until the hulking youkai turned and strode dramatically away from behind the railing they had used to view the Urameshi Team. Soundlessly, with the eerily synced movement of old partners, Bui and he moved to follow, Ani embellishing their departure a bit and releasing a dark cloud of vapor that cloaked their retreat.

Such theatrics.

Although… he couldn’t deny the urge he felt to do the same, when he thought of Kurama and their upcoming match.

Oh, how he hoped the kitsune would observe it.

He would put on a lovely show for the youko’s adroit mind, play a little game by showing his ability yet only leaving the slightest hint. If he were lucky, he might even meet the redhead while leaving after the match.

A slight tremor of anticipation swept through him, at the very thought.

Ahhh, tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough!

: : :

~Six Days Earlier~

He hadn’t returned, yet. She shivered, clutching her cloak around her, tightly. Not that she missed him—Toguro Ani. That he would still be alive, even after Kazuma-san’s brave fight against him…

The petite demoness shook her head, brushing a few dirty strands of pale green from her face. Her senses were interrupted by the sound of footfalls, and she glanced up fearfully towards the door, shrinking into the corner before she could fight the reaction. The sound of the tumblers working announced the opening of the door, and she felt a shudder of trepidation. However, the figure silhouetted there was slighter than Toguro Ani’s new body, and wore robes outlined in white against the light behind him.

He stepped into her stone cell, and with a jolt she at last realized he emanated youki. The clatter of a tray set before her caught her attention, and she gazed up at his kneeling form, blinking in curiosity. The demon’s face was stoic, framed by teal locks that fell from a center part at the top of his head. The youkai watched her, seeming to examine her state, for a moment. Then, still not uttering a word, he silently rose, striding out of the open door. It clanked shut with a small click to signify the lock was once more in place, and the room was bathed in darkness. Glancing down to the tray before her, the koorime reached out a trembling hand to the bread and water laid out upon it. Her stomach squirmed restlessly for the food, and she fought a smile at the kindness he was showing her.

She did not know why there was a youkai here, among these humans(to be sure, Toguro Ani’s presence could have gone unnoticed, as he’d supplanted himself into a human’s body). It did give her a moment’s relief, though, and she let herself trust what that unknown demon had brought her. Some were simply kind, like that. She quietly pulled off a piece of the loaf, and took a small bite out of it. It was the first real food she’d had since she was captured, and so the imprisoned koorime slowly worked her way through the simple meal.

: : :

“Makihara seems to be disappearing into the caves more often, these days.” The broad-shouldered human flipped through the channels on the television before him with the remote, paying little mind to the fact there was no cable down here, and thus all he was scanning through was electrical fuzz. The video player beneath the screen blinked 12:00 mindlessly up at him—he’d yet to set it. The only movies he’d brought were the Vietnam War-based one he intended to play when the tunnel was nearly open, and a child’s Disney movie dubbed in Chinese. It was about an Arabian sorcerer apparently trying to destroy the world(the truest of all human desires), and the ensuing happy-couple ending that comes with his defeat. Who knew Amanuma had a fetish for strong women and happy endings, despite how much he professed the fact he hated all of his classmates(girls included) and wished for demons to be released upon them?

“Mm. He has.” The demon moved slowly, yet not gracelessly, across the room, settling silently beside the human on the single couch in the center of the cave. The purple-eyed boy’s video games were strewn across the dirt floor, the game console for once not humming and instead lifeless. Mitarai, Amanuma and ‘Makihara’ were asleep, as they should be, and he and Shinobu were busying themselves with preparations. Soon the day would come when Itsuki would be forced to leave his chosen human’s side, but for now…

For now, he allowed himself to catch a glimpse of the one seated beside him, the human’s face cast into flickering light by the muted grey fuzz playing over the screen. His expression was impassive, consciously and carefully devoid of any softening emotion. Shinobu did not need him for his emotion—did not need him for his presence. Shinobu merely needed him for his skills(not that he was complaining). The simple act of being near the human was quite calming to his heart, and his more demonic side never quite tired of the fact that, as each day passed and their aim grew closer and closer to fruition, Shinobu was growing darker and darker… like ink staining a white piece of parchment.

“Sunset sky like ash. Clouds of crimson engulf rain—painted flowers cry.” The soft-spoken voice with a surprisingly lyrical lean cleared his thoughts, and a quiet glance towards the object of his ill-placed affections confirmed it. He allowed a moment of pause, for the poetry to sink into the silence settling between them.

“A lovely haiku, Naru.”

“Itsuki… are we doing the right thing?” Shimmering eyes turned to him, and he met them with the calm stare of one who is used to such shifts. Those feminine eyes glimmered angelically with unshed tears and an eloquence shyer, more controlled than Minoru’s charismatic bent. He offered her a half-smile that curved the side of his mouth upward, attempting to comfort her while she was present.

“Shinobu has decided our path. It has already been set in motion.”

“But… there are innocent humans, as well. Is it not more of a massacre to—?” She let her statement hang in the air, and he allowed the beat of a pause before quietly dispersing her fears.

“No. Inside every human lives the potential for evil. Shinobu knows this of himself, and all of the humans that have gathered here have darkness in their hearts, as well.” Golden eyes quietly settled on the ‘lady’ seated beside him, Shinobu’s large hands worriedly clasping each other in his lap, his knees drawn together while his feet remained spread. It looked awkward, such a large man taking up such a very feminine, defensive position—lined in the tenseness of her forward-slouched shoulders, head now bowed as though in prayer.

“I… suppose you are right, Itsuki.” Here Naru lifted her head, and smiled weakly at him. He inclined his head, quietly watching her. Of all of Shinobu’s personalities, she was by far the most weak-willed about their cause. Perhaps it was something in a human female’s mind that led to such a trait. Nonetheless, he mustered another half-fake smile for her, lashes partially veiling his sight as he watched her, changing the subject with her comfort in mind, effortlessly.

“Do you have any more poems you would care to share with me?” At this, she blinked, then blushed and looked a bit flustered—an adorable trait, she did so echo attributes of Shinobu’s boyish personality, like this—glancing off to the side and putting a polite hand to her cheek.

“If… you would care to hear them, Itsuki.” She glanced towards him, and it looked truly eerie, to see such a bashful, womanly gesture carried out by such a muscular and well-built man. Yet, it would have been, had he not grown used to her presence over the years. He upped that put-upon smile a notch, yet somewhere felt something in his heart settle, despite the strangeness of the interaction—or, even, their relationship in general. Perhaps that expression on his face was not so false as he believed. After all, no matter the personality at hand, each mind was but one aspect of the ever-complex being that was his ‘Dark Angel’.

“Of course.”

: : :

”Again!”

The still-adolescent fox steeled himself, then rushed to attack his oncoming opponent. He dodged a quick elbow-thrust, parried an open-handed jab at the wrist with his forearm before laying the teen out flat on the ground. He cast a glance up towards the master, Dura-shihan’s face quiet but approving.

“You have surpassed our best student, Youko.” To this he nodded behind him, and the guest they’d seen that morning quietly stepped out of the shadows. To no one’s surprise, it was another goat demon. The fact that he was related to Dura-shihan in some manner was unmistakable, but this elder was younger, taller and more muscularly built than the petite youkai he’d come to respect over the past century. The decades had done nothing to lessen the fox’s arrogance, but he had learned to reign in his temper and present a face that gave away nothing to his opponent.

Silently, he raked his eyes over the stranger, noting that he too bore horns, but in a different array than Dura-shihan. Two horns framed his face, sprouting from his hairline above each brow, down towards his ears, while the other four stood proudly on both sides of the center of his head, arranged in two neat rows. Predictably, there might have been a fifth jutting from the back of his head, but it was small enough not to be noticed from the front. When the demon turned to address Dura-shihan, however, he could see the smallest nub in the back of his head. A sign of age, perhaps.

“You were correct, Dura. The youko shows promise. It would be a waste to leave him here to rot in this rural village. His skills require better polishing than you and your children are able to provide.” The imposing youkai glanced towards the silver fox, then, and Kurama fought the urge to bristle with cool determination as the dark eyes lingered on his platinum hair. He knew what his coat was worth—he’d known it since he’d interacted with those village children, a lifetime ago. He didn’t like the look in this demon’s eyes, and by the look of it Dura-shihan would send him away…

Well, perhaps all the better for it. He had known from the start that his stay with Dura would be only temporary. He couldn’t say he’d wasted the time, either. The century of training(and his emergence from adolescent to more-or-less young adult) had granted him a third tail, and a higher level of power as well as a better understanding of fights than he’d had, before. Besides, if his new ‘master’ tried anything not to his liking, he still had the plants hidden in his hair as a trump weapon. Of course they would still hear him—although he had been ‘forbidden’(for his training’s sake) to use them in battle, he regularly conversed with the flora in the area to keep up his skills and not lose the precious plant-language he had learned, as a very young kit. He had not realized at that time how rare being able to ‘speak’ with plants was. It had seemed as natural as breath, to converse with them. However, a city…

He was still a hot-blooded young risk-taker, at heart. The challenge a place likely devoid of much plant life held could only increase his skills and knowledge, after all. Youko was smart enough to know this, at least.

: : :

~Present Time~

“Kanisawa-san!” It was a gasp, as he was pressed(in full-view of the street) against the trunk of the tree just a few houses down from his yard. The redhead squirmed, trying to catch the wrist of the errant hand that’d snuck itself up under his uniform jacket, tugging at the buttons of the once-crisp white long-sleeved shirt he wore beneath it. No doubt it was wrinkled, now. He felt a smirk against his lips, plying tiers trying to coax his own into reciprocating and he exhaled a soft sigh of resignation into the other’s mouth, slouching back slightly onto the bark and allowing his(was it really ‘boyfriend’, at this point?) companion to take what he would. In the small amount of time he’d known him, really, he’d discovered it was best to let Kanisawa-san get what he wanted. Afterwards, he could talk to him—the fox smiled against the amorous kiss, quietly shifting fingers to run along the back of that probing hand that’d gone up his front. His other hand moved to gently trace up the other teen’s jaw, jade oculars slivering slightly shut as the fingertip circled the shell of a half-covered ear, pushing a few errant strands behind the audit.

When they parted for breath he took his chance, placing digits over the other’s lips to stall any further attempts, hiding the smile that wanted to escape onto his face, at the enthusiasm. To think… to think, that it had really been so long since he last had a lover(it not withstanding that they’d not quite done the deed, yet) that was not reticent about affection. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed this. Granted, Kanisawa-san was horrifically young(in comparison of their summed ages, this dallying of his might have branded Kurama a pedophile), a normal human(in psychological terms only, of course) and their relationship was still in the ‘novelty’ stage, so it was to be expected—but it was still rather comforting.

“Kanisawa-san.” It sounded rather breathy, even to his own ears, and the kitsune paused a moment before shifting to meet those dark, intense eyes framed by sparse onyx strands that had not sought to leave his face once since they’d broken away from one another. “We should—” Hands moved to the sides of his face, stroking there as his paramour leaned closer, his breath on his face and Kurama’s eyes nearly slid—

“Ah… you’re right. Forgive me? I couldn’t quite help myself—” The fox made an interesting noise, eyes snapping open as his audit was taken and tugged at with teeth. He felt another wave of crimson engulf his countenance that had nothing to do with the wind teasing and mussing his hair. The kitsune pressed his forehead into the close curtain of ebony locks, whispering with the attempt to keep his teenage body’s libido in check. Couldn’t… they would see his mother in mere minutes. They couldn’t be later than they already were.

“A-Ah… I forgive you, just stop—doing…” He whimpered as the other teen laved the bitten area, chin jutting forward as his neck strained while a flood of ghostly memories greeted that touch and its usual sensitivity. That was one thing that hadn’t changed, when he reincarnated into this new human body. Somehow, his hands obeyed him even as the rest of his body wouldn’t, and they found Kanisawa’s upper arms and grasped there, working him gently but firmly away.

Teenagers.

They were at times hopeless, and thus needed a bit of responsible guidance, now and then.

: : :

It was endearing, really, how Kurama thought such a paltry attempt to dissuade him would succeed. However, when the fox just slightly raised his head, the breeze having blown part of his scarlet hair into his face and obscuring his left eye, he caught his breath. The visible cheek was painted a very dark cerise, one emerald optic aimed off to the side. (Perhaps, again, not in bashfulness, but more in favor of collecting a moment to control himself.) The reincarnated youkai was inescapably enamored by that, and raised a hand to draw fingers over the fox’s cheek, once more. He found himself murmuring soothingly, voice caught against the wind that rustled around them.

“Yes—I’ll give you a moment, and then we’ll see about your mother.”

The look he was graced, at that—it was so grateful, he found himself conflicted. Covering by offering the ‘lopsided smile’ he’d come to take on as a mannerism in light of his deception, he stepped away from the redhead. Feigning casual masculinity, he made to lean against the other side of the tree he’d pinned Kurama to, mere moments ago. He tried not to think too deeply into it, really. It would bring no good, would cloud his motive—

Which is what this is all about, isn’t it?

All of this, the seals, the secrecy, the acting—it was all so he could have Kurama, completely and unrepentantly at his mercy. Wasn’t it? It wasn’t for some fool’s notion of ‘love’, not for ‘affection’, not for some sense of ‘rightness’ with the world. It was only to be around Kurama.

To bask in that beauty without hearing the ever-present whisper for destruction of it...

…but, wait.

No, that couldn’t be the right reason, that was—

He would eventually kill Kurama, would he not? It was in his plans, to that end—wasn’t it? To get close to the fox, bind their lives, restore his youki and… and, what? What would he do, then? Would he go back to life before Toguro? An assassin—or, plotting only the kitsune’s lovely death with every breath he took? If he were to follow that line of thought, all these months of painstaking preparation would be futility’s claim—once the final seals were affixed and he had both his youki and its Quest Class rank returned to him—would he be back to being lost in sordid fantasies of rape and torture? He would not deny the truth—hedonism and sadism were both engrained in his nature.

However… he’d not anticipated this.

How he would be able to control himself so admirably around Kurama that the fox would suspect nothing.

How the resulting lack of terror attached to his presence would seek to unbalance him and his convictions.

How fetching Kurama was when he returned these motions of physical intimacy without prompting, without fear, without—

“Kanisawa-san?” That voice pulled him abruptly from his thoughts, but, ever-composed, he cast a glance towards the redhead around the tree, situated just by the crook of his right elbow. There was a hesitant smile, and he noted with forlorn absence that the blush had dissipated, and the fox’s lips had lost their mild puffiness. The would-be teen slowly trailed his gaze up the other’s countenance, taking the time to enjoy the perfection of that view. Jade watched him, softly. He felt a brief touch of fingers on the sleeve covering his lower arm(the attached hand submerged in a pocket), after a moment.

The masquerading demon paused, then settled for the response that came most naturally to mind.

“Shall we?” A nod from the beautiful one beside him, and he had pushed off from the tree, almost absent-mindedly twisting digits to catch the kitsune’s in the way they had been, before. To this, Kurama offered no protest(concerning Japanese cultural taboos) as he had, and a strange little ditty strung up in his chest, at that. They walked on, his fingers subconsciously grasping a little tighter.

It was not that he was uncomfortable over meeting someone so important to Kurama.

It was not that he was nervous about what he might do to her, when they met.

It was not either of those things, for either of those reasons, but…

It was that the silly little warmth which tugged at his chest and was drawn from the heat of the youko’s hand(the sensation wholly new)—unsettled him a bit.

…A bit.

It was enough to cause his human heart to thud strongly in his ears, and his hand to suddenly feel clammy and yet oppressively warm against the softer, cooler digits of his obsession.

Are all human bodies this emotional and reactive?

: : :


He found the city to be as uninspiring as Kurama-machi had been. It had taken three months of foot-bound travel to reach it, and the kitsune wrinkled his sensitive nose at the vast myopia of scents all clamoring for attention that wafted from behind the high walls. It was a world unlike the kind he was familiar with, though—here was a true urbanized society, a books-and-records-and-rules sort of city where passports or connections were needed to gain entry.

This he observed firsthand—wearing his long dark cloak to hide his color(as he had been, the entire trip and out of engrained habit), he followed silently after his new teacher, barely spared a second glance by the guards as the goat youkai waved him in as trustworthy. Once inside, the metropolis was a steely, massive concoction of buildings and roads, all layered and built one upon the other. Bridges between buildings soared in a dizzying array high into the foreboding Makai sky. The fox could smell the electricity cracking in the air—perhaps, with all this metal, they harnessed the lightning from the constant storms? Truly, this was a sophisticated society.

He took a moment to observe it all—a blur of hundreds of scents, sounds and sights—before the goat youkai made to move on, and he had to swerve between the masses of various demons clogging the street to keep up. For every step he took, it seemed the other gained two and so soon he was running, not out of breath or really caring in the slightest as to where the other ‘master’ was headed, but not willing to give up and have his pride take the hit for losing such a man. Besides, it would be made all the worse to return to Duma-shihan in disgrace, if this was some sort of test of his ability and he failed it horribly.

Eventually he caught up to the youkai, following him by smell alone. It was a mighty task, to be able to sort out this single demon’s scent amidst all the youkai crowding this city. (Then again, the other demon did reek of their three months’ travel so much as he did.) He trailed the older demon to the bottom of what looked to be a temple. The stairs rose high into the rain-heavy clouds blanketing the entire area, but if he squinted he might have seen a gate far ahead. The demon cast him a cursory glance before beginning to climb. Taking the cue, the fox followed after slowly, senses alight for anything out of the ordinary coming from the unseen sides of steel that the buildings on either side afforded.

It made him… uncomfortable. Often, temples were based around nature, but this one—a large one, judging by the number of stairs—was squeezed into the minimum space needed to house it. Walls of metal rose up into the air breathed by hundreds on either side, hemming him in. It was a far cry from the rural and forested areas he had come to know so well. They reached the top, and he was barely winded. When he stepped past the black torii gate looming overhead the youkai turned and grinned at him, obviously pleased.

: : :

~Present Time~

He would have sped faster than sight, but only in battle was Yuusuke quick enough to keep up with him. As such, the Jaganshi restrained himself from hurtling at full speed towards the sudden flicker of his sister’s ki, off by the coast near the icy waters of the ocean. His Jagan and the tantei’s device had reacted to the faint burst of youki(never mind how he had procured that lock of hair of hers) in the same instant, and(barring that irritating call from the reaper) they had immediately changed directions to track it. His Eye could sense her location, now, but it was his companion’s device that could pinpoint it to within a few feet.

They ran for hours, clearing the dense forest and never stopping to wonder why they hadn’t been able to sense her, before. No, this Hiei quietly turned over in his mind during the long trip, instantly wary of a trap and yet unable to keep himself from hurtling straight into it. The awkwardness of their last meeting did not matter, now—all that mattered was seeing her safe. It could be that she had been warded, as in Tarukane’s mansion. The mere thought of her being submitted to such torture(again!) simply due to her race and its ‘talent’ for producing gems was sickening in and of itself, but he doubted there could be another reason.

He had many enemies—not so many that were still living, but family and friends(if loyal enough) often came seeking revenge. How they would determine that Yukina was his sister was another conundrum, though. He had been very careful to stay generally away from her, for her own safety. It had never been spoken, and all who knew of the fact in the small circle of those related to the Reikai Tantei would never leak that information. He ran through the list in his mind.

Yuusuke, Shizuru. No, they would never. They enjoyed teasing him of it, too much.

The ferry girl? …No. She was too easily intimidated by his threats. It kept her mouth shut.

Genkai? Koenma? No. They left him to his own life, well enough.

Kurama?

Having pointedly ignored his subconscious whenever it supplied that name(for the last six months), he felt a chill run through him as it was whispered in the silence of his own mind. Kurama was… did he not take revenge on those who injured him? Was that not how he had found himself in cahoots with the kitsune(rather than on opposing sides), in the first place? Would Kurama stoop so far as to hire someone to kidnap her, to torture her, knowing it would harm Hiei the most—?

He supplied the answer, himself, after a few more seconds of careful consideration.

No. That is not Kurama’s style, now. The youko had grown far more forgiving and soft-hearted over the years. He would never bring harm to an innocent bystander to serve his own needs. He had a stricter code of honor, now.

But, once awakened, old thoughts of the redhead that produced their own kind of odd ache swirled around him in perfect memory.

Laughter.

He opened his eyes, squinting against the sunlight. He felt a repressed shudder next to him, glancing slowly over with a glare promising death—only to be greeted with an impish smile and silence. Cool fingers trailed over his cheek warmly, and sparkling green drew slowly closer, accented by that infuriating smile. The hiyoukai grunted, turning his head and causing Kurama’s lips to brush his cheek, instead. Undeterred, the fox wrapped an arm around the slim, sturdy waist below and flipped onto his back, dragging the grumpy Jaganshi with him.

He snarled in vain against the worn white cotton fabric beneath his teeth, tugging on it in an aborted threat. Long digits smoothed at his hair at the back of his head, running over the spiky ends and then worming their way into the mess of dark. A soothing voice echoed against the sunlit air.

“I’m sorry—you had a bit of hair pushing into your nose. You wrinkled it in your sleep~”

To be fair, he hadn’t actually heard laughter. Kurama had suppressed anything that might have escaped well before he reached real consciousness. Nevertheless, Hiei felt the need to be difficult, and peered moodily over the kitsune’s collarbone up towards his chin. It didn’t quite matter that he couldn’t see the redhead’s face, like this. He didn’t need to. Muttering, the youkai ground his cheek into the worn fabric with an irascible mutter.

“Shut up. You’re stupid to think that’s amusing.” The chest beneath him faintly rumbled in what might have been a chuckle, and the digits once more resumed their comfortable petting. To hell that he would admit it, though. That would open an avenue for teasing, and, really, the youko didn’t need any more of those.

“Mm, I suppose~” He felt lulled by the warmth beneath him, and fought the attempted pull of his lips upward, as he lazily drifted back towards sleep. The kitsune’s other arm was a welcome heat and weight where it rested around the small of his back.

Kurama.

He shook himself from the vision, concentrating once more on the situation that plagued him. Yukina—they were nearly there, he could feel it. She was(once again) his first priority.

: : :

“We made the correct selection, after all—“ He raised a brow. “Youko Kurama.” …and twitched, inwardly. He’d never, in all his years at the dojo, told Dura-shihan his ‘full’ name. Granted, it had only been attached to him by way of the villagers or passers-through of the long-deceased Kurama-machi, but he’d simply presented himself as ‘Youko’ to the aged goat youkai. How did this man… ? The fox checked himself, and succinctly wiped the small amount of surprise from his eyes as the taller demon continued.

“Come. We do indeed teach students, not unlike Dura-shihan, but—“ Here he smirked, as numerous black-clad forms sprang from all directions, surrounding them. Tossing off his hood with a well-placed tug(so it would not obstruct his vision so much), the youko narrowed his eyes, tail bristling unseen beneath his cloak at having been so deceived. A trap? For his coat, possibly? How stupid of him to trust this demon simply because he was a relation and acquaintance of Dura-shihan. Long fingers itched to stretch towards his own silver hair, and he barely caught the man’s next words, a bit too preoccupied with watching for any movement from the ninja that barred off all sides of escape.

“…as you can see, our methods are a bit different.” The goat youkai laughed, an eerie sound next to the silence of his lackeys. “You see, we shall not have to harm you if you agree, Youko Kurama.” The kitsune smirked chillingly(imagining various ways the plants concealed against his scalp could be used to maim this fool), crouching into a slow, defensive kneel. He did not quite give away his attack gesture, leaving his hand by his thigh and not yet allowing it to begin to rise slowly to his hair.

“Oh? And what is it you would have me agree to?” Russet eyes glimmered in the darkness.

“Allow us to train you, yes? Pay back your debt with your skills—” The silver one’s eyes narrowed, hitting on a note of desire in that tone. His voice was slippery-smooth, like a knife, that arm moving to lift his fingers towards the long, silky tresses that housed some of the most deadly plants in Makai.

“And what skills would those be?” The goat demon canted his head, arrogantly, smiling more openly, now. As though amused at his reaction? Amber depths narrowed in scarcely-exhibited suspicion. The amusement was likely at having not received an immediate ‘no’—well, he would have to change that, wouldn’t he?

“Why, thievery, of course. You have a natural quick-footed sneakiness, I’ve seen it—it simply needs to be encouraged in the right way before you get too much older.” Kurama felt his brows raise, disappearing under long bangs as his hand fell. His stance was yet wary, but—interested would be an understatement. Damn his race’s easily-intrigued nature. (Granted, he did not remember much from his kit days with his doomed family, but he had traveled by and far enough by now to hear rumors of kitsune and their ways.) However, as for this youkai’s reasoning…

“Thievery? What would shinobi seek to gain by thieving?” Here the goat youkai waved a hand, stepping forward and smiling slyly towards the kitsune. He noted that the ninja surrounding him relaxed, most of them straightening to a stand. He adjusted his own stance accordingly, straightening a bit out of his defensive crouch while still wary and on-guard.

“Our business is our own. Consider your presence here an… apprenticeship, of sorts. You are free to leave whenever you like, but if you should ever spill the true nature of this ‘school’—well, I cannot promise you would not meet a most unfortunate set of circumstances afterward.”

It was a veiled threat, but far too obvious for them to think he would consider refusing outright. The kitsune weighed the choices in his mind. In the end… it was his own damnable curiosity that rang him in.

At any rate, the skills would be fun to learn, and he could see himself getting a gaudy little thrill from each respective heist(he recalled that incident with the boar demon in Kurama-machi with enduring amusement, after all). It was the best choice, really. What else would he do, where else would he go? He had been wandering before stumbling upon Dura-shihan’s village, but before that had no aim, no purpose. Perhaps this unexpected turn of events could prove to be fruitful, after all. In addition to all that, it had been presented as a given that he could leave whenever he desired.

Or so he hoped.

: : :

~Present Time~

They emerged cautiously onto the cold beach, Yuusuke glancing about and around for any sign of anyone. Not too far off, they saw someone standing in the surf in a hooded yellow sweatshirt and jeans rolled up to just below the knee, appearing not to mind the icy water at all. The two tantei glanced towards one another. It was a human, they had decided not long ago when they sensed another being near where Yukina’s ki signature was emanating from. This person’s signature was reiki, not youki, and so standing beside him should be the ice apparition they so sought—unless she was hidden behind the human.

The two team mates—one youkai, one human, himself—advanced slowly upon the seemingly oblivious figure.

Perhaps we can ask this guy if he’s seen her? He may be a little nutty, standing like that in the ocean at this temperature, but—

All of Yuusuke’s thoughts of this being an uninvolved bystander died when the person, hardly over than himself, turned around. A few blond curls originating from under the edge of the hood fell over a huge pair of blue eyes. For a moment he mistook the boy for a girl, but when he spoke it was clear.

“I’ve been waiting for you.” The blond turned to fully face them, smiling at them as he sized them up. His eyes fell to the shorter one in front of him, and he grinned a bit more, reaching inside the front center pocket of his hoodie. He produced what Yuusuke assumed to be an ordinary spherical bauble hanging from a cord. The way Hiei tensed, however—anger abruptly jumping into his usual glare and suffusing his youki—told otherwise, even before the blond continued to nonchalantly spin his tale.

“Oh—do you recognize this, Hiei?” Even from where he stood, the blue-eyed boy he could see the garnet eyes narrow at the knowledge of his name, and—confident in his trump card—the human smiled just a little bit more. He palmed the almost-shining blue-white stone, shielding it from the shadows setting in due to the sunset, and glanced almost idly at it.

“It’s quite pretty. Do you want it?” He glanced sidelong at the angry Jaganshi before him, canting his head conversationally and completely ignoring the flabbergasted and slightly-confused tantei standing just beside his seething friend. He then released the hiruiseki(it didn’t fall, with the cord wrapped around his thumb as it was) and waved his hand, causing the gem to sway gently in the air.

“You can have it.” He offered, generously. “And with it, our word that no harm shall come to her, even after our goal has been accomplished.” The student chuckled, to this, smiling openly at the demon. “I offer this to you because, as you are a demon, we have no reason to hate you. As soon as Angel-san found out what was going on, he was going to free her. However, he realized we could use her presence to our advantage, because she was related to you two. He has a knack for things like that.”

He practically beamed at them, at this point, suddenly tossing the hiruiseki through the air towards them. Hiei caught it, a pale hand snapping out in a blink of time to fist the precious gem. The intensity of his slivered scarlet gaze had not diminished, but the strange blond boy still observed him with benevolence.

“If you leave now, we can promise her safe return when this is all over. If you do not leave, well…” His expression grew darker, bright azure shaded due to his hood. “I will be forced to kill you.”

Hiei was airborne before Yuusuke even had a chance to yank him back.

A bright red line slashed over the top of one of the blond teen’s thighs, and those azure eyes went wide as he stumbled back further into the small waves, salt water lapping at the bottoms of the rolled-up denim. The wound began to drip, it saturated the fabric in a jagged streak and seeped a small amount of crimson into the ocean, turning the white crests nearby pink. Breathing raggedly, the boy’s legs shook, then collapsed, causing him to kneel in the surf, the injury buried in the cloying embrace of the salty sea water. He was brought eye-to-eye with the end of that bloodied katana pointed straight at his nose.

“Hiei!” Even with his eyes(and their ability to detect and follow the Jaganshi’s speed), that attack and the ensuing shock finally caught up with him. Wide-eyed, Yuusuke watched the hankoorime’s shoulders tighten, the hand not holding the sword fisted firmly around that cool gem.

“Stay out of this, Yuusuke.” That tone was dark and not in the least remorseful, and the blond boy could see it in the demon’s eyes that he held no regard for him.

“I give you two choices. Tell me where she is now, and I will end your suffering. Refuse, and I will make your death much more lingering.” The blue-eyed teen was amazed at the simple reaction to his words—and oh, how he admired it. This youkai would hopefully be like all the other youkai, quick to sate his revenge and quick to deliver judgment. It was the utmost in loyalty, and thus quick retribution for holding someone dear to him hostage would follow. ‘Straight’ revenge—so unlike humans, who played and tricked others with false hope in captivity, only to kill them in the end. Arbeit Macht Frei.

However…

“My friends call me ‘Seaman’, and I think—” He rasped through the pain, the beginnings of a grin widening over his face as the cresting waves rose up behind him. They shifted and morphed into a monstrosity whose ‘form’ was held only by water tension. He could feel the behemoth behind him, and remained where he was, allowing more of his blood to seep into the ocean and feed the size and power of his creature. A hint of uncertainty flashed in those red eyes as they lifted from him to take in the water-giant—so like hers—but the blond boy laughed, yelling out the last words before Hiei rushed him, disregarding his brunet companion’s yell for him to stop.

“You’ve underestimated me!”

~*~To Be Continued~*~