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.

With this chapter, this fic is over 100,000 words(103,156 words, to be exact)! I feel accomplished. :3

[Also! First single story I’ve ever written to reach six digits, word-wise. :33 Just thought I’d mention that. (I’ve been doing fanfiction since 2004, but writing since about 1994, and sooo~ I’m a little psyched about reaching this milestone. x3)]

Title: Second Try
Chapter Fifteen: Damaged
Word Count: 7,314
[Total Word Count: 103,156]
[Total AFF Hit Count: 1218]
Anime: Yuu Yuu Hakusho
Pairing: HieixKurama, KanisawaxKurama
Warning: Angst, violence/gore, language, shounen ai, attempted non-con
Author: Kita Kitsune
Date: Monday(moon-day!), March 8, 2010
Miscellaneous Notes: Wow, some of the girls really get beat up in this chapter! Sorry, but I think I was feeling rather violent. xD

More Notes(Friday, March 12, 2010): Whew, this chapter’s got a lot of meat in it! Sorry if Koenma gets sort of wordy at the end, but then again he can be wordy, right? Especially when he’s explaining something, got that dramatic flair, he does~ x3 I hope you guys love this chapter. I don’t love-love it, but it’s pretty high up there in my opinion of chapters for this fic. It makes me happy(could it be because of the plot development?)~!

Yet More Notes(Saturday, March 27, 2010): Well, the next chapter isn’t done, but I know what I’m going to do with it. We’re making up classes missed for snow days, today, so that’ll be odd. D: Figure I’d post this for you guys now, in case I’m too worn out by this time tomorrow night—even though, as said before, Chapter Sixteen only has about three pages instead of the usual ten to thirteen. xD Sorry! I‘ll do my best to get it out on time, next month. Until then, I hope you enjoy this new chapter. (Forgive if it seems a bit convoluted, at the end? ;.; I tried to just clarify, but…) :3

Raine-san: Thank you for the review. I hope you get the chance to read this chapter somewhat soon. xD If not, well— Hi~... from the past. Isn’t that creepy~? x3

[Is it ironic I’ve just discovered Lady Gaga(on her birthday, weird coincidence of all coincidences!)? –Or, is it more ironic that all my favorite songs remind me of Karasu/Kurama(Bad Romance[both sides!], Poker Face[Karasu/Kurama], I Like It Rough[Kurama/Karasu], Paparazzi[Karasu/Kurama], Monster[Kurama/Karasu], Teeth[Karasu/Kurama])? xD Look, the fanfic is on the brain while I’m being distracted by pretty trendy music, at least~! She reminds me of Billy Joel, I think… professional artist-wise. Nothing else really fits, in that comparison(also, her support of both the Gay Rights and AIDs causes is cool). x3~ ]

: : : : : : :

~Present Time~

“Suuichi! Minamino-san! Kuwabara-san has collapsed!” They turned to one another, eyes wide. The redhead immediately rushed into the parlor, his mother taking the presence of mind to turn the stove off before hurrying to help, as well.

“Shizuru! …Shizuru!” He held a hand to her forehead as she lolled in Kanisawa’s arms, mumbles escaping her lips as her speech slurred. Kurama tried to get her to sit up, but her muscles weren’t responding well to movement, either. His eyes narrowed. What could have happened? The only other person in the room was Kanisawa-san, but he wouldn’t… Pushing aside his misgivings, he pinned a serious stare onto the teen. Worried brown eyes met his own, mouth parting in hasty explanation.

“I don’t know what happened, we were just sitting here—she took something with her tea, I’m not sure what it was…” The redhead began to look around in earnest, until a small vial was produced in front of his nose. He glanced up at the drawn face of the other boy, fraught with concern. “She dropped this when she fell, but it’s unmarked, I don’t know what’s in it—she just suddenly went limp… I think she’s unconscious—”

Shiori had entered the room, by this time(enough to hear that last comment), lifting a hand to her mouth in horror. She jarred out of her state at that, moving quickly back into the kitchen to snatch her cell phone from the table. Hastily she dialed the number for emergency, returning to the room and describing the situation as her boy and his friend tried to make the ill-taken young woman as comfortable as possible. She nodded, once, hanging up and pushing the phone into her pocket. The brunette grabbed her keys and shuffled past her son to the door, glancing back at them.

“We’re taking her to the hospital. They think it might be a drug overdose. Bring that vial and carry her outside, I’ll get the car ready—”

: : :

~A Few Hours Later~

They sat outside what had been designated as ‘Kuwabara Shizuru-sama’s room. She was asleep, and there were still nurses going in and out of it at frequent intervals, but they were growing slower. Kurama’d tried to contact Kuwabara-kun through the use of the communicator, but the damn thing was still on the fritz. Shiori had left a while ago, saying something about dropping by Shizuru’s house and getting a few of her things. She’d also called Shizuru’s father, and they were in part waiting for them both to show before they could leave. They were just holding down the fort.

The doctors had confiscated that vial, run some lab tests, and determined it was benzodiazepines that she’d overdosed on. What Shizuru was doing with such a drug was another matter entirely, it just meant they could treat her safely, having known what caused her symptoms.

He sighed, leaning his head back against the wall behind him. The chairs stationed outside of her room were anything but comfortable, but they would have to do. This particular discomfort did serve as an unwelcome reminder of nights not so long ago, though. Soft fingers dusted over his temple and a warm tingle followed in their wake. They brushed away rumpled hair and he tried to offer a smile, vision tiredly peeking out towards the concerned brunet beside him. Kanisawa’s voice was soft.

“She’ll be all right, Kurama. They know what caused it. She’s just asleep…” The kitsune lifted a hand to squeeze the other’s in gratitude, before shifting into a better position posture-wise, eyes falling off to the side.

“I know. This hospital just brings back bad memories.” He could feel Kanisawa was on the verge of asking, but harsh footsteps down the hall caused them to look up. A well-built, lanky man was sprinting down towards them, and Kurama only had a moment to stand, eyes widening in recognition. The man nearly bowled him over as soon as he was on his feet, panting and pressing his hands into Kurama’s shoulders. His eyes were wild, worried, filled with concern.

“Suuichi! How’s Shizuru?! Is she—” He tipped an apologetic smile towards the father.

“She’s fine, Kuwabara-san, just sleeping right now. Were you able to find—”

“No, Kazuma’s out somewhere. Damn kid should get a cell phone.” The frazzled adult shook his head, then seemed to blink, staring slightly at the brunet who had risen politely to stand beside the redhead. Kurama blinked, then pinkened slightly at the attention paid.

“Ah, this is Kanisawa-san. He’s—” A sly grin from the Kuwabaras’ patriarch caused him to stop in his tracks. Clearly no explanation was necessary. A raspy laugh lit the air as he clapped the slender redhead on the shoulder.

“Heh, I see! Good you’ve found someone, Suuichi…” Softer footsteps drew the trio’s attention, once more, and they all glanced up to see Shiori with a bag in her hands. She smiled, handing off the supplies to the dark-haired man, gently.

“I’m sorry to trouble you all with this.” He sighed, running his free hand back through his mussed hair. He offered a crooked smile towards them. “You can go home, I’ll stay here. I’m family after all, they can’t turn me away!” He laughed, a sound full of forced cheer that nearly made them wince. He insisted, though, and soon they were called off, leaving the man to wait outside his daughter’s hospital room in solitude.

: : :

The car ride back was uneventful. It was dark, by now—they’d been in the hospital for quite a few hours. Shiori had tried calling around to try to locate Shizuru’s father, but his job was such that he happened to be unreachable for long stretches of time. Surely, it had all worked out, and his mother had managed to contact him and even bring him in—but it had been mind-numbingly stressful, all the same.

The silence, on Kanisawa’s part, had been comforting. It seemed to help that there was a human around who did not abhor the lack of a conversation. Many people, the kitsune had noticed, tended to try to fill such lags with nervous chatter—but, Kanisawa had been refreshing. It had been late in the day—nearly evening—when they’d arrived at his home, and so by now it was quite late. It was a Sunday, tomorrow, too. Perhaps, if Kurama admitted it, he’d be weary. Kuwabara-kun’s absence was frustrating, and might be a cause for worry… but at the moment, it was a bit too much to think of. He only half-noticed as he began to tip as the ride went on, subtly leaning against Kaniｓawa-san’s shoulder where they sat, side-to-side, in the back. The lights of downtown Tokyo flashed past them, but he stubbornly refused the childish impulse to see how those shades were playing across the brunet’s face. A hand snaked between them, cautious and hidden, should his mother glance back at them through the rearview mirror. The redhead stifled a small smile as cool fingers entwined with his own, allowing his eyes to fall shut with an exhausted sigh. The steady thrum of the moving car threatened to lull him to sleep—of course, experience and instinct outweighed any amount of weariness, so he didn’t.

It was at least nice, though, that he felt comfortable enough in Kanisawa’s presence to even be tempted to submit to unconsciousness. Something about his presence was soothing.

: : :

They shuffled inside as a bleary-eyed trio, two of them shedding their shoes for the house slippers awaiting their feet as Kurama’s mother flicked on the light. She turned, seeming to gaze toward him in quiet surprise—ah, then it seemed to register. An apologetic curve began to sweep over her face, and she opened her mouth to— He beat her to it, bowing slightly and still not stepping out of the genkan and into the house proper, in order to speak.

“Minamino-san. I am sorry to have intruded on you for so long.” He began to take out his cell phone, already punching the speed-dial number for his driver, dark eyes falling to the device. “I shall call home, and they’ll send me a—“

“Oh, no, don’t be silly!” He was forced to pause, at that, blinking towards her while trying… not to focus on her, too well. She still reminded him so much of his own mother.

“…Excuse me?” He glanced towards Kurama, unsure, eyes shifting back to the brunette before him. “—Ah, Minamino-san, you needn’t feel that you need to put me up, overnight, I can call, it’s really not a problem.” He trailed off as brown eyes narrowed warmly at him—stubborn, but kind. Perhaps that was where Kurama got it?

“Kanisawa-san.” She was insistent, polite, but firm, a smile pulling at her face despite the tone. “You have been a great deal of help, today, and must be just as exhausted as we are. It is also far too late for you to be on the streets. Who knows what kind of characters are about, at this hour!” He tried not to think too deeply into her implications, lest he not be able to keep the irony of her statement from his expression. “You will stay here, I’m sure Suu-kun won’t mind.” She peered good-naturedly towards her son, who, embarrassed, averted his eyes. A soft laugh—oh, but she was tired, too. Perhaps that was why she sought to tease, in such a way? It might seem to alleviate the seriousness of the day, if a normal mannerism was called into existence. She waved a hand, heading up the stairs and offering no room for argument, lest he be inclined to be ‘rude’ and refuse her kind offer.

“Please take him upstairs, won’t you?” At this, the redhead seemed to start awake, and rushed to the bottom of the stairs.

“’kaasan! You don’t mean that—” The reincarnated crow couldn’t quite see Shiori’s face from where he was, but he heard her words, well enough. Her tone was kind.

“I was your age, once, too, Suu-kun. So long as you don’t disrespect this household, I don’t mind if you two share your room. It will be like a sleepover! Isn’t that right, Kanisawa-san?” That last comment was a little louder, but more amused than accusatory. He shifted to the foot of the stairs beside Kurama, plastering on a thankful smile and bowing at the brunette standing above them, in the second floor.

“Of course, Minamino-san. Thank you for your hospitality.” She smiled, nodding at him and disappearing into the hall—likely towards her room. He had to wonder what ramifications this would bring, in the morning—it might not be pretty. He would have to leave early, if he wished to have the family’s breakfast and morning schedules finished. They treated him like a butler, and it might bring annoying repercussions if he disrupted their daily expectations. The brunet had to shake his head, though, casting a glance to the fox at his side—he fought a smile.

Well. At least tomorrow’s peace would be sacrificed for something worthy. First, a bit of acting was in order, though. A soft cough announced his intent, and jade fell suspiciously upon him. Of course—he was a ‘regular’ human teenager, and so naturally Kurama would mistake the train of his thoughts. The reincarnated crow offered the most sincere smile he had to offer.

“Kurama, if you’re uncomfortable with that, I can easily take the couch.” He gestured behind him, allowing his gaze to fall to the side with a small blush. “I mean, I wouldn’t want to force anything on you too soon. Even if—” He was interrupted by a hand taking the one he’d gestured with, and surprised brown blinked up to take in a suddenly-much-warmer shade of green. It was like a lush meadow in summer—waxing too poetic for a moment there, he focused on the kitsune’s next words. Kurama’s tone was soft.

“Kanisawa-san… No, it’s all right. After all, we’re ‘dating’, aren’t we?” He cast a hurried, reddened look towards the fox, stuttering as his fingers flailed futilely in the redhead’s hold.

“N-No, I mean—Yes, but I don’t mean—I… if you—” This time, the fox’s chuckles broke through his perfect façade. Those slender digits curled further, that kind smile slipping slightly and growing fonder as the fox began to turn, practically pulling him along behind, and up the stairs.

“It’s perfectly fine, you know. Let’s see if we can find you something to wear, shall we~?”

He allowed himself one small, self-satisfied smirk aimed at the back of the kitsune’s head—but the only real response was in how he so-tentatively made himself return the hold, as a quiet, shy assent to the redhead’s suggestion made its way to be heard over their soft footfalls.

: : :

~A Few Days Earlier~

She shivered—a sensation wholly new to her, but the dungeon suddenly felt much less accommodating than it had, only moments before. A shadow before the door interrupted her thoughts, and hard, defiant crimson eyes rose to take in the ungodly smile stretching the tall human’s chiseled face.

“Well, isn’t that a fierce stare.” He murmured, stepping closer as he closed the door and locked it, behind him. The light dimmed, casting her into the shadow of his bulky form as he strode forward, that leer turning uglier by the second. Instinctively, Yukina curled a hand around a rock as she straightened, still seated, even as she tried her best to keep the brave glare she currently held. Toguro Ani’s grin grew wider.

She raised her chin proudly as he at last reached her and kneeled down to her level, cooing at her, despite the koorime’s silence.

“Don’t you want to escape? I know you’ve been healing yourself. Why haven’t you tried?” He reached a hand down, and she fought off a flinch as the large fingers caressed the bruised skin of one of her ankles. The pain was irrelevant—his touch brought more agony than anything else. He was right, though. She narrowed her eyes, raising her head higher. Over the past few days, she’d tried harder not to react, slipping partially back into that state of disassociation that had served her well during her prior imprisonment. With no birds or small animals here to be harmed, she could defy without worry for punishment of innocent others. She owed her brother and his suffering that much. She would not break, here, in the dirt, like this. Let him kill her if she did not bend. She was finished with cowering. It brought him more joy to see fear in her eyes, anyway.

“I would not get far before the others would stop me.” Her soft voice belied the ice lingering just beneath it, and her knuckles whitened around the rock they held, angled just behind her so he could not see. He would assume the hand was empty on the floor, helping her keep her balance. She did not try to look at the door, knowing every movement was being observed and might give her away. Toguro put a hand to his chin, nodding thoughtfully. It looked sickening on the innocent human’s face. The poor boy.

Her heart ached for a moment, remembering Kuwabara. Perhaps the bulky boy before her had been as he was? Perhaps he was a gentle soul, hidden beneath an outer shell of staggering height and masculine pride. Perhaps Kuwabara should have come with her… but, no, it was too late for regrets, now. It was too late for this. Fisting her fingers around the rock once more, she shifted as the surviving Toguro brother spoke.

“Mm, that’s correct… well, now.” He grinned at her, and the digits yet resting on her ankle began to push upward. Her eyes widened in unintentional surprise, breaking her mask for a moment and he laughed at her, leaning in. “I’ve beaten you up, pretty well. I think I’ll indulge myself with a taste of what so few men have had.” The blood began to leave her face, a result of sheer terror upon realizing where his thoughts were headed as well as white hot fury begging to lash out. She didn’t move as his breath approached her. “Mmm, yes. Koorime, isn’t that what you are? Maybe you’ll even give me some pretty tears to get rich on.” His face was right on hers, his putrid breath in her face—and she found herself, again. Glaring coldly, and gripping the rock so tightly she cut into her own hand, her tone was as frigid as the peaks of those rarely-seen mountains on Hyouga.

“I refuse.” He was still grinning at her as she brought around her arm, smashing him in the temple with the jagged stone. The act of violence only worked because he’d not been expecting it. She had restrained herself during her captivity as the idea slowly blossomed in her mind. She did not like it—but, survival dictated her actions. She did not like causing pain, but in self-defense she must. Besides, he would heal quickly enough.

Thrusting the guilt from her mind at harming an innocent bystander—the human whose body Toguro had stolen—her small hands quickly patted around in Toguro’s pockets, searching for the key. Quickly rising to her feet—as she’d done every day, pacing in the cell when Toguro was not around, to keep up her muscle strength—she stumbled a bit from the pain of the injuries that had weakened her over the past few days(she couldn’t heal all of them, completely), but kept on. She had just made it to the door, was just lifting the key ring to insert the right one into the lock—

Long, fleshy spindles impaled the metal ring and went straight through it and into the door. Freezing, she glanced quickly behind her, hiding her fear in another moment as the behemoth rose in anger behind her. One large hand cupped the body-stealer’s bloody temple, pure rage filtering through his expression as those normal fingers almost covered one eye. The other hand’s fingers were extended, gruesomely, in Toguro’s trademark trick—they were shaking, now, in utter fury, still stuck in the metal door. Smoothly, she moved from it, off to the side and into the darkness for cover as he bellowed at her.

“Icy bitch! C’mere and I’ll show you pain! You think it hurt before—!” She tried to dodge, but in another instant he was upon her—she’d had training, but it had been so long and she was slow where Toguro could be frighteningly fast. He tore the remains of her clothes—absently, she was glad she’d had the fortitude to take off her cloak. It lay in the corner, soiled, but still very much in one piece. She was also comforted by the fact she had taken to wearing her mother’s hiruiseki backwards, so now, even with her clothing gone, he would not know she wore it, distracted with ‘other pursuits’ as he was. Yukina took the abuse passively, staring up at him coldly as he divested her of her clothing until she lay in only tattered scraps of fabric. Her nudity did not shame nor bother her, and she stared straight up into his eyes, unflinching. He would discover soon enough, another secret of their Sisterhood.

He grinned, leering at her lack of resistance despite the icy eyes resting upon him. He grabbed her breasts—she did not flinch or react. Tutting, he squeezed them, molding them for a moment—before he stopped. They were cold. The teats beneath him weren’t soft and giving like most of the women he’d had—they were like little mounds of dead flesh. Was that a bit of frost on the nipple? His leer gave way to a confused frown, and he actually looked at her face.

She was watching him, calmly. Far too calmly for someone about to be raped. Feeling uneasy, but going straight for it, he shot a hand down between her legs and felt through the cold folds for the entrance he knew—he paused, blinking. The barest hint of a smirk ghosted a corner of the ice apparition’s face. He tried to push his fingers in, where he knew(from much experience) there should be give. Nothing. It was like trying to push past a brick wall. Frustrated and still angry, he glared down at her, demanding an explanation. The girl’s voice was soft when it escaped in its own sweet time, her red eyes bearing up at him and beginning to twinkle with a hint of arrogance.

“No Koorime has ever been taken against her will, Toguro. I doubt you shall be the first.” Annoyed, he grit his teeth and tried again. Push, push. Nothing! Where there should be warmth and wetness, only icy dryness met his insistent hands. He looked down, to confirm. Yes—the tips of his fingers had parted her labia, but had been denied any further access. He looked up again, and there was now a cool smirk on the ice maiden’s dirtied and bruised face. He felt his full rage returning, at that look. Bellowing, he lunged at her face, clawed fingers lengthening into deadly needles.

“Get that look off your face, you half-breed nothing!”

: : :

A bloodcurdling scream echoed through the hallways, and Mitarai and Amanuma jerked. Mitarai spun around, dropping the controller as Itsuki glanced quietly behind them towards the caves. Sensui kept his eyes on the screen before them. Amanuma had never stopped playing—it was a racing video game, and he was currently beating the shaken Mitarai who hadn’t dared pick up his controller, again. The blond’s lips where white, and he hastily glanced back towards their leader. Sensui seemed uncaring, but offered a low comment to the teal-haired demon standing just behind the couch, and off to his side.

“You’d best go rescue her. The game is about to end.” With a glance towards the pale Mitarai and the absorbed Amanuma, Itsuki nodded slightly before strolling leisurely away down the pathway to the caves. Still watching Amanuma calmly swerving various obstacles on-screen, Sensui addressed the nervous blond—who dropped his regained controller(again) as soon as the older man spoke.

“How long has she been here?”

“’few days.” Amanuma answered, without too much thought, the kid completely concentrated on the game.

“A-Ah, yes! She has!” Mitarai nodded when Sensui’s gaze at last shifted to him, then glanced back towards the caves, once more.

“Did she give her name?”

“Yukina, sir!” Trying to make up for his previous demonstration of weakness, the blond was quick to reply, this time. Sensui closed his eyes.

Yukina. Hadn’t Toguro mentioned something about her being a girlfriend to one of Urameshi’s group? Something about the tall, loud one gaining strength in a tough moment of a match and foolishly rushing to greet her before his opponent was even defeated. Kuwabara—that was it. He opened his eyes, again, smiling slightly. Mitarai, who’d been watching him, grinned anxiously in response.

“Tell Makihara to meet with me. I need to have a private talk with him.” With that, the tall man rose, unfolding his long legs and walking casually off towards his personal quarters. A few minutes after he’d disappeared, Makihara stormed out of the lower dungeons. Mitarai attempted to speak up, but the words choked in his throat when he saw the blood streaked down the taller boy’s shirt and arm. He paled, stumbling backward. Without glancing back, Amanuma’s bored voice broke the silence as the boy pressed a few more buttons and his car crossed the finish line on the screen with a record time—as always.

“Sensui-san wants to talk to you.” A livid glare was aimed towards the two boys, and Mitarai flinched, retreating further as Amanuma just ignored the heated eyes in his back, going about pressing more buttons to start another race. The tall, broad-shouldered boy stormed off, again, vanishing into the darkness that led to their leader’s part of the cave.

: : :

Pain. It infiltrated every pore of her existence, ripping into her face and leaving a searing emptiness that was all too soon filled with gushing blood. She shoved Toguro off of her with a blast of ki, cupping a hand to her face and attempting to heal herself as she sat up, breathing raggedly. Hot, thick fluid seeped through her fingertips and onto her bare chest, but she couldn’t care less. All that encompassed her world was pain.

Laughter. Glancing up with her one uncovered eye, her disoriented gaze swayed over to the hazy form of Toguro Ani, mostly concealed by darkness. He was holding something up, waving it in the lack of light. He was laughing, shrieking laughter that reverberated off the walls and hurt her ears. In another few moments, the door had swung open, offering the grisly scene some light. The small sphere Toguro held in his fingers was raised perfectly, the lines of light shining past the glistening object.

She paled, freezing as she recognized it for what it was, and the trauma of the past few minutes caught up to her. Knowing she was watching, he slowly began to squeeze the orb, intending to ruin it—a voice at the door stopped him, cold.

“Shinobu knows. Your game is over. Give her back her eye, Toguro.” He sneered at the demon in the doorway, and she glanced towards the—the demon, from before. She blinked, wincing in pain when she accidently did so for the gaping hole that had once housed an eye. The true extent of the damage was still hidden behind her hand, even as blood dripped from her curved, crimson-soaked knuckles. Toguro swore, standing and tossing the eye at the demon in the doorway. She cried out, softly—wanting to go for it, to save it before it hit the dirty ground—but it was unneeded. The teal-haired youkai somehow caught it, and stepped past Toguro’s fuming frame as the taller demon exited.

He quickly stepped over to her, noting her state of undress, but taking more important factors into hand. He peeled away the cupped hand from her face and she let him, closing her one good eye in pain at what must greet his sight.

“You’re a healer. See if you can at least reattach it.” She blinked open that one good eye as she felt him pressing the ruined one back in from where it had been taken. Gritting her teeth, she widened her eyeless, bleeding hole as best she could despite the excruciating pain yet thrumming through her. At last, it was in and she shut the lid over it, cupping both hands to the injured right side of her face and forcing out all the remaining energy she had. She willed the eye to reattach, not allowing despair over such an intricate organ being able to fully function after being so ripped out to diminish her efforts. Slowly, although nevertheless agonizingly, she felt the nerve endings begin to rejoin. It still felt as though it had been ripped out, and she dare not open her right lid lest it topple from the socket. She felt the teal-haired demon move from her side, then. He returned with her cloak, draping it around her shoulders with a soft whisper in her ear.

“I’m sorry. We did not mean for this to happen. I will get you some bandages for your eye.” As he rose to leave, she caught the hem of his clothing with one drenched hand, her left eye pleading up at him, voice hoarse from the long-standing scream of pain she had emitted as Toguro’s fingers sank into her eye socket and ripped out the optic. She didn’t even notice as she stained her rescuer’s white robes with the imprints of her bloody fingertips.

“Please. Don’t leave me here.” He regarded her for a moment, before nodding. Gently, he scooped her petite frame into his arms and quietly rearranged her cloak so that it covered her modesty. He strode out into the hallway, heading for a little-used cave closer to the main room. There were bandages and generic medical supplies in there, for when Kamiya visited to check on Shinobu’s condition. They would come into good use, now. A soft voice from his arms shifted, faint and small.

“The air out here… it’s like home—” He continued walking, careful not to jostle the petite koorime as he answered her, voice monotone and careful not to give away anything.

“Yes. Nostalgic, isn’t it?”

: : :

~Present Time~

He smiled, slowly. The most recent name on his list of patients was convenient, indeed. It brought the detectives well within reach of his Territory—of which they likely knew nothing of. The doctor chuckled, flipping the chart closed as he slowly strolled off down the hallway. It would separate the infamous detective team Sensui had told them so much about. The Kuwabara boy would be forced to come to his sister’s aid, and the fox would feel obligated to help. It was so much easier with Urameshi-kun and the fire demon out of the way. The other three fighters of their group could easily handle two out of the four. He and Hagiri would take out the rest, while their defenses were weak. Urameshi-kun and the Jaganshi were easily the most powerful of the detective group, after all.

The brunet hid his self-satisfied, sadistic smirk as he approached the worried-looking father loitering outside her room. He smiled in a friendly manner, sticking out his hand in a Western greeting.

“Kuwabara-san. I am sorry we had to meet like this. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Kamiya Minoru, Shizuru-sama’s doctor. We are doing everything in our power to help her to recover. There is really no reason to worry. I have many years of experience, and she is in the best of hands.” The relieved father didn’t catch the unkind glint edging the doctor’s false smile as they shook hands.

Oh, yes. They would take very good care of her, indeed.

: : :

~A Few Hours Later~

It was dark outside. Late. Like all good students, after a full evening of studying she’d headed for bed early. For a moment Keiko wondered what had prompted her to wake—hearing a tapping at the window, she slowly rose to a sitting position, pushing the comforter onto her lap and rubbing at one bleary eye as she tried to make out the source of the sound. A little coo and a flap of puffy wings soon accompanied the tapping. Oh. She blinked, vision focusing at last.

Puu was earnestly trying to either open or break the window, pecking and hurtling himself against the glass in vain attempts to go through it. She put a hand to her mouth, hiding a smile and half a yawn, as she stood up, walking over to the sill. Big brown eyes looked up at her imploringly, and for a moment the brunette was startled by just how like Yuusuke that little creature’s gaze could be.

“Do you want some fresh air, Puu-chan?” She whispered, slowly moving to open the window and a current of chill air washed through the room. Shivering, she cast her vision back towards the blue penguin—only to blink. He was almost completely out of the room, wriggling through the tiny gap of the parted window and she gasped, delicately lunging for him and trying to pull him back into the warmth of her bedroom. She chided him softly, half-hissing but trying not to disturb her parents who were tucked in their own beds, by now.

“N—No, Puu-chan! You can’t go outside! Someone might see you, and—” Just like all her lectures to Yuusuke, pleading was pointless. He was a bit too far out of the window for her to get a good grip and catch him. The tiny creature flapped up into the air on the other side of the window, glancing back at her only once before jetting off in some godforsaken direction.

“Puu-chan!” She hastily threw on her robe and thumped down the stairs in a rush—not even bothering to slip out of her house shoes—fumbling with the lock on the storefront’s door before almost tripping into the deserted street. She ran to the edge of the building, trying desperately to locate a lighter dot of moving blue against the darkened sky. “Puu-chan!”

Keiko dared not call any louder than before, but she might as well have. Clutching her robe around her, she stared up at the sky, only mildly aware when the lights clicked on in the window of her parents’ room, and then the store below.

“Keiko?” Her mother’s soft voice brought her back, and she started, smiling reflexively towards the woman, even as her eyes were sad. Puu-chan was always a reminder of Yuusuke when he wasn’t around, and to have him abandon her like that… The brunette’s response was cut off by the loud ringing of the phone, and surprised, her mother hurried back inside to answer it. Given a few more moments’ reprieve, the honors student gazed in a last, vain attempt to locate the tiny spirit beast, but—

Her mother’s voice raised a notch, and Keiko forced herself to scurry back inside, shutting the door and locking it, her back to the phone conversation taking place behind her.

“Oh, I—! No—yes, of course we’ll keep a look-out for him! Do you need any help? I see. No, it’s no trouble at all! We’ll be right down!” As the sound of the phone returning to the cradle echoed through the otherwise-quiet store, the teenager turned back to her mother. The older woman’s face had paled. The teenager’s expression asked the question for her.

“That was Kuwabara-san. Shizuru’s in the hospital!”

: : :

~Present Time~

The room had gone silent. The godling was standing, shoulders canted at an angle opposite to that of his hips, slowly massaging a temple with one hand. The other arm was crossed over his abdomen. Amber eyes were shut, his brow knotted just beneath the ‘Jr’ mark adorning his forehead. The papers he’d been rolling over for hours were strewn upon the floor in front of him, hap-hazardly—as though he’d tossed them there in a sharp moment of frustration.

The other three were silent, although the ferry girl was having a difficult time restraining herself from an outburst. They’d divided up the list of deaths collected on the last day of the Dark Tournament, and they’d searched for Karasu’s soul, seeking confirmation that he was safely sentenced to one of the deeper layers of Reikai. Meirin clutched the papers she’d gone over in both hands, brown eyes wide and frightened of the silence and what it implied. Minamino Matsuo’s ghost sat on his chair, arms crossed over his front as a dark frown lit his extraterrestrial face.

They’d looked through the lists, once. Upon finding nothing, Koenma had demanded they hand off their list to the person on their right, and look through them again. Once again not finding the name they sought, he’d ordered them to rotate the papers, again. After the third time, though… the brunet had thrown his papers to the floor, and taken up the stance he currently held.

Botan clutched her own papers, white knuckles almost tearing the thick collection of sheets, watching as her boss suffered and beat around the implications in his mind.

She couldn’t stand it, anymore! Kurama was in danger! There was a loud flutter of paper as her section of the list was thrown, exasperatedly, into the air.

“Koenma-sama!” She rushed over to him, voice emotional and almost on the verge of hysterics. “Koenma-sama! We have to warn Kurama-kun! If Karasu’s following him, then we can’t afford to—”

“Botan.” (She didn’t even hear Koenma as he tried to interrupt her.)

“—wait another minute! I know it’s hard to believe, but if his soul isn’t here then it’s very likely that—”

“Botan…” (Minamino-san’s voice was soft, trying to be of comfort, but—)

“—he’s the one that’s been following Kurama-kun around! I won’t let that sick, sadistic crow torment him any more than he’s already been! You heard what Minamino-san said! Meirin-chan’s brother’s acting strange, almost stalking Kurama-kun, and if, if—”

“Botan-san!” She was tackled by the small form of Meirin, the ghost-girl sobbing into her kimono. Forced to deflate, the blue-haired ferry girl rested her hands on the shaking preteen’s shoulders, bringing a tearful gaze up to her employer, face drawn into a few wrinkles as twin droplets snuck down her cheeks. Koenma had long since settled a quiet stare on her, the fingers massaging his temple dropped down to his side in defeat. When he spoke, his tone was low and resigned.

“Botan. We can’t tell Kurama.” She was about to scream at him for that, but he held up a hand, shaking his head. “…I know. I know, Botan!” He sounded frustrated for a minute there, but soon regained his composure, taking a breath and glancing towards her, once more.

“We have no proof that that is Karasu’s soul in Kanisawa’s body. What would Kurama do if you sped down to him and told him the boy is that demon in disguise, eh?!” The demi-god pinned a fierce, annoyed look at her. “With no evidence to offer him, Kurama would have no reason to believe us. He’d be right! There are thousands of souls out there—the odds that it would be Karasu are minute. It’s too coincidental, despite our suspicions. The odds that Kurama wouldn’t believe us are very high, Botan! He’s smart—” Here the brunet shook his head, again, gaze casting away. “—too smart to take our words as infallible, even if we are his friends.”

“B-But, Koenma-sama! Then we should just arrest Kanisawa on the grounds that he’s a human housing a youkai soul, and I’m sure he’s killed someone by now, I mean after all it’s Karasu, so he—”

“That he’s a human is the problem!” Koenma grit his teeth and glared at her, his hand balling into a fist at his side. “Karasu, if he is indeed the one posing as Kanisawa Takashi, has not killed anyone. He has not been responsible for a single human death.” He nodded solemnly at Meirin and her tear-streaked face as it poked out of Botan’s kimono to protest.

“I know, Meirin-san. Do you remember that orange oni who came in, when Botan was off getting the list?” The silent girl nodded again, quickly. “He checked the reports for me, and the readings that came through were that your brother’s soul was still the dominant one in his body when you died.” His eyes grew softer, sadder, his tone delicate. “According to Reikai, it was not the demon currently possessing your brother’s body who killed you, as that demon was not yet the dominant soul in the body when your death occurred.” He shook his head, again. Bureaucracy—as though any true brother would kill his sister!—had made Reikai laws firm and absolute, especially when they pertained to humans. “Humans kill humans all the time—and that type of crime is out of our jurisdiction. I’m sorry.” Meirin burst into fresh tears, at this, and Botan was forced to take her out of the room, the girl still clinging to her clothing. The shinigami cast a worried glance towards Koenma, but he waved her out, distracted with his thoughts.

When they were alone, Matsuo let his gaze fall upon the obviously stressed godling.

“What else about his being human presents a problem?” Koenma nodded, running a hand back through his hair, gaze slivered off to the side in hidden anger as he regained his train of thought.

“Yes. As Reikai now recognizes the being Kanisawa Takashi as having a youkai soul with a human body—if he were to kill a human, now, we could arrest him. However, as we have no reason to pursue him, we cannot. The stubborn problem lies in the fact he inhabits a human body.” The sound of his jaw clicking the brunet’s teeth together in a grind was almost palpable.

“We came across the same problem with Kurama when we settled on his punishment for stealing the Three Artifacts. He inhabits a human body, despite having a youkai soul, and so certain restrictions apply to his case. The only difference here, is that whoever has possessed Kanisawa Takashi’s body has committed no real crime since he did so. Listed in his file in the past few months are involvements with drug trafficking, the yakuza, and other crimes specific to Ningenkai. Such crimes are punishable only by Human World authorities—most commonly the police—as they lack any supernatural aspects. Unlike Kurama and his thievery of a Reikai vault, this new soul has done nothing to justify a Spirit World arrest warrant.” Setting his jaw, Koenma brought up a serious stare to the concerned—albeit deceased—father’s gaze.

“The other sticker is that we have no proof it is actually Karasu possessing Kanisawa. Kanisawa has not acted like Karasu did, before his death. The personality traits that would clearly identify the soul of Karasu as the soul possessing Kanisawa are conspicuously absent. Kanisawa has also shown not a glimmer of hostile youki, only strange reiki, and has not displayed the tendencies towards insanity that Karasu so blatantly flaunted. Kanisawa is acting like an abnormal human teenager, but a human teenager nonetheless.” He frowned, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants as he continued his explanation.

“The circumstances suggest it is likely this is Karasu, given Kanisawa’s newfound obsession with Kurama since his possession. If we don’t have a way to convince Kurama of our story, though—it would hurt our side more to warn him, now.” The brunet bowed his head, fingernails digging into his palm where he had them curled. “If we warned him now, without sufficient evidence, Kurama would have less reason to believe us in the future. He’s proud.” It was a grim statement of fact. He’d watched every match of the Dark Tournament. The reformed youko felt compassion like no other demon he’d seen, but he trusted his own judgments and instincts above others’—even those close to him, like Yuusuke or Hiei.

“If Karasu’s somehow taken steps such that Kurama isn’t able to sense him—which is likely, otherwise Kurama would have recognized his energy signature at first glance and dispatched him right away—it’s tricky. Kurama won’t believe anything with just blind faith, as he’s not the type to risk making the wrong conclusion based on iffy information.” The kitsune’s centuries of life as a successful thief, where he could have been deceived by faulty sources or information that was suspect, were testament to that line of thinking. “—and, we have no proof it’s Karasu’s soul in Kanisawa’s body. Without evidence, our speculations and conclusions—however close to the truth they may be—mean nothing.”

Koenma sounded bitter.

“We will have to wait until Kanisawa makes a move that enables us to act against him. Until then, we can only watch.”

That bitterness lingered in the air long after the demi-god’s last words on the subject were uttered, as there was no doubt how bad that ‘act’ would have to be for Reikai to become involved.

By then, it might be too late.

~*~To Be Continued~*~