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 Seventeen: Encounter

Word Count: 7,087 

Anime: Yuu Yuu Hakusho

Pairing: HieixKurama, KanisawaxKurama

Warning: Angst, violence/gore, language, implied BL

Author: Kita Kitsune

Date: Sunday, May 15, 2011

Miscellaneous Notes: Spot the tiny Bender reference and win a cookie~! :D (Sorry this is a little short, but the muses gave me permission to end the chapter after it’d passed 7,000 words, so… )

Uwah, everything in this chapter was newly-written over this past week~! I guess this means I’m officially back to writing for YYH, then? :3 Ahaha… although the lack of reviews on AFF is a bit discouraging, I guess I should be thankful the hit count’s at 1509 after a year-long hiatus? x///x~ Saa.

[ Also, the scenes from Karasu’s past POV (Dark Tournament, etc.) are from the Japanese version. I haven’t seen that version with the subtitles since forever, so please excuse if my translation seems a little ‘unofficial’ compared to the English dub or the ‘official’ English subtitles for the Japanese dub. ]

Not much else to say, but I hope you guys enjoy this update~! The fight scene with Seaman/Mitarai was what was giving me such endless troubles for updating, but with it out of the way I hope things will flow better! ( x.o;;~ )

Also: Apologies for any typos (I will catch them eventually!)—I just really, really wanted to post~ :3

: : : : : : :

            The two demons paused in their search, one’s bright blue eyes flickering with confusion while the other’s pupiless ones watched him steadily.

            “Jin?” A hand held aloft made him stop, and so Touya patiently waited for his companion to judge whatever he was sensing. The redheaded shinobi then turned to him, expression dark.

            “We’re going the wrong way. The wind says it felt her over this way, not—”

            “—where Yuusuke and Hiei are fighting.” He finished for him, and Jin nodded. Touya fought a frown.

            Then where else would she… Ah. He narrowed his eyes. Jin grinned tightly back at him.

            “Yep. They’re bein’ fooled. ‘though they prolly know that already, since they’re fightin’… Soun’s like trouble.” Touya resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the now-toothy grin his partner was gracing him with.

            “So the question is—”

            “Yuki-chan!” Jin was adamant, waving his arms about to show just how much, eyes wide. “Yuusuke and Hiei can handle th’mselves, and sh’ needs to be safe, first!” Touya sighed, resting a pair of fingers against his temple. Well, they were shinobi, after all. Stealth was their speciality. And Jin’s wind was never wrong—they would go it alone, then, and meet up with Yuusuke and Hiei once they had her.

: : :

            Botan bit her lip, trying to resist the urge to glance back at Kurama riding on her oar, behind her. Koenma-sama had been very particular about his orders, this time. As soon as the report had come in about what Yuusuke and Hiei were facing, she’d been sent to retrieve Kurama—Kuwabara was likely too wrapped up with his sister’s issues in the hospital. Besides, he wasn’t actually an official member of the Reikai Tantei, so—

            But Kurama-kun still deserves to know that Kanisawa Takashi is Karasu!

            …Might be Karasu.

            —Is very likely to be Karasu!

            Oh, phooey!

            It was times like these she hated being so low on the hierarchy of Spirit World. If she so much as breathed a word about Kanisawa’s suspected identity, she would be imprisoned for five hundred years, for disobeying a direct order! Koenma-sama wouldn’t even have a choice about it, it was simply regulation. Still gnawing on the inside of her bottom lip, she jerked a little when a soft voice floated into her ear from close behind.

            “Botan? Is something the matter?” Forcing a laugh, the ferry girl closed her eyes tightly, fervently wishing (but knowing it was pointless) that the strange boy she had felt sleeping in Kurama’s room was anyone but a certain crow demon.

            “Ahahaha, no, I’m fine! It’s just hard to talk over all this wind, you know?!”

: : :

            Hiei was not amused. In fact, Yuusuke would go so far as to say that he was the very opposite of amused. (Not that it would take a brain surgeon to tell, though.) They’d thrown themselves into battle with the water… monstrosity…  thing, the instant it lumbered up from behind Seaman.

            Hiei was flitting here and there, trying to avoid the watery fists that popped out of the ocean, aiming to drag him under or just deliver a hard punch. The youkai’s dodges weren’t sloppy, to say—but it almost seemed as though those red eyes were glowing. Yuusuke couldn’t blame him, really. Hell, if Keiko had been kidnapped again, he would’ve been royally pissed off, himself. As Hiei grabbed the behemoth’s attention by activating his flaming ki and lunging forward with a Jao Ensatsu Rengoku Sho, Yuusuke tried a stunning Rei-gun at Seaman, who was grinning wildly and watching the dark flames dancing around Hiei’s form. The blast hit the arm of a fist which had thrust up from the water, scooping the blond into its palm. For a moment Yuusuke thought it would sever the arm—to no avail, apparently. The ball of ki glowed insistently for a moment, before slowly dissipating into the hand itself. Brown eyes went wide, and—with a crooked grin—Seaman’s attention shifted to him.

            “Oi, Urameshi-kun, that wasn’t very—!” Water hissed, interrupting him as Hiei’s blazing fists made contact with the behemoth, causing an eruption of steam which swathed the area in a salty fog that forcibly reminded Yuusuke of Bakken. There was a cry (not in Hiei’s voice?), and then a low curse, and soon Yuusuke was hurtling backwards due to a projectile thrown into his midsection. Arms closing around it instinctually, the object (which he quickly recognized as a tossed and very angry fire demon) and he skidded back onto the sand. As the steam cleared—due to the two elements being put out of contact—Yuusuke could just make out the deep gash running over the front of Seaman’s hoodie. The boy’s blue eyes were huge, and he looked startled and pale—much too young to be caught in a battle like this. Blinking as a bit of flesh peeked out from behind the wide tear in the thick yellow fabric, the detective’s arms tightened around his friend as reality seeped back into his consciousness when Hiei tried to slip away. Worried brown eyes slid down to stare at the back of his friend’s head.

            “Hey! You aren’t actually trying to kill him, are you?!” Elbowing the teen in a particularly tender spot so as to loosen his grip, Hiei swiftly returned to his feet, flicking a bit of blood off the tip of his katana and not bothering to glance back at his companion.

            “Hn.” Yuusuke’s brows furrowed downwards at the lack of a real response, and he surged to his feet, grabbing the youkai’s shoulder before he could speed off into battle, again.

            “W-Wait, what?!” A hard, dark pair of garnet eyes locked on him in irritation. “You can’t kill him, Hiei! Remember what Koenma said if you—!”

            “That bureaucratic fool does not hold any control over what I do.” It was practically spat at him, and the fire youkai’s ki began to undulate around him, again, raising the temperature and infusing his eyes with a reddish light, once more. Yuusuke’s own gaze narrowed at him, and he squeezed the demon’s shoulder harder.

            “Well he does over me, and I don’t want to be ordered to have to bring you in because you were being a dumbass and decided to return to your ‘kill all humans’ outlook on life!” Those red eyes slivered at him in annoyance, Hiei’s dark ki bristling against the electric blue thrum of Yuusuke’s.

            “You’re mistaken. I only wish to kill him.” Here Hiei turned back to the ocean and their opponents, grinding his jaw together as he flickered through the faces in Seaman’s memory—as easily as turning pages in a book. “And anyone who helped him.” That bloodcurdling scream—Yukina’s—echoing through the blond boy’s memories was all the impetus he needed, and he ducked out from under Yuusuke’s hold, sprinting forward with his mouth narrowed to a thin, angry line, sword held low to the ground.

            “Hiei! Stop!” Something slammed into him from in front and above, and he tossed his katana to the side (the quarters were too close for it to be of any use!) to push at the object as they fell back on the sand, a hard weight pinning him there and he tried to maneuver so he could grab the creature’s neck to fling it off, or just be in a good enough position to—

            Roses.

            Hiei’s eyes jetted wide open, unblinking as they landed on a far-too-familiar face framed by crazily windswept and mussed locks of thick scarlet hair—then detoured towards a cheek. Green eyes blinked back at his averted gaze, accompanied by a slight smile as a soft chuckle lifted to the air, Kurama moving to push himself off with a quiet mutter to himself—which only Hiei was close enough to hear.

            “The same as always.”

            “Kurama!” Those green eyes then wandered from him, warming as they landed on Yuusuke, who lunged forward to hook one arm around his neck in a half-embrace, now that he was standing. Only a moment later both tantei were on the ground again, though, Kurama frowning through narrowed, analyzing eyes as the watery fist swept out over the beach.

            “Ah, watch out!” The belated warning from Botan wasn’t really all that helpful.

            “So, yeah! Y’see, that’s what we’re up against, and I’m guessin’ since Botan’s here Koenma decided—“

            “—that I should assist you? Quite so…” The youko murmured something to himself, palming the sand in contemplation of the non-freshwater plants he had in his arsenal. It would have been so helpful for Botan to mention this was a creature of seawater, as there were a few seeds in a fake book on his bookshelf which thrived on such water. (The Makai mangrove trees not the least of them, but their seeds were too big and unwieldy to fit against his neck, so he did not carry them often.) As it were, though…

            Of halophytes, I only have Ningenkai hijiki and amamo with me, and they—wait!

            He tried to gather a moment to concentrate, begin to summon his energy—but all that greeted his efforts was about two-thirds of his maximum youki output and… exhaustion? It was strange—but understandable, given the hours he had kept vigil outside Shizuru’s room, as well as the limited amount of sleep he’d ended up getting.

            Well, if I can multiply enough of them they should be able to—

            A smear of black movement at the corner of his vision caught his attention, and out of habit more than thought Kurama lunged to catch the small youkai as he was flung back at them once more, breaking his fall against the sand. Chuckling breathlessly, the fox tightened his hold on his friend as he felt Hiei tense, to lunge forward again. He leaned to mutter good-naturedly in his ear.

            “You should stop attacking him like that, it’s doing no good—” Angry and frustrated, the shorter demon hissed back, not taking his eyes off his opponent as Yuusuke fired a Shotgun barage at the cackling blond human.

            “Let go! I’m going to—” As Yuusuke’s attack was blocked by another thick, watery arm (the bullets seeming to just disappear into it…), Kurama’s calm tone cut Hiei’s growling one off.

            “Kill him, for Yukina? Do you really think she would want that?” Hiei froze for a split second, then roughly pushed himself out of the kitsune’s arms, standing and clutching at the katana in his bandaged hand. He didn’t answer verbally, but his response was obvious enough through a quick irritated stab of telepathy.

            “If I wanted your advice, I’d ask for it.”

            Sighing, Kurama slowly stood, warily watching as Yuusuke tried unsuccessfully to find a gap in the water beast’s defense. Its motions were actually predictable—if attacked directly it faced the attack with one of its own, if the blond boy in the hoodie was attacked it moved to defend him, and if its attackers showed pause it turned aggressive. Green eyes narrowing after this observation, they flicked to the back of Hiei’s head as the fire demon slowly began to advance. Kurama moved to fall in step behind him, a hand sliding up under his hair to find the pod which held his halophyte seeds. His youki may be oddly weak, at the moment, but a little should be enough. He kept his voice low, not wishing to draw the blond’s attention from Yuusuke.

            “It’s defending him? Does he control it?”

            “Hn.” Close enough to a yes. If they knocked the human boy unconscious, would his beast disappear? Kurama’s eyes settled on the proud set of Hiei’s shoulders—bare, as his cloak had presumably been tossed away towards the forest sometime near the beginning of the fight.

            “If you kill him, how can he tell us where she is?” It was a simple statement, answered by a quiet snort and a patronizing sneer.

            “You think that human’s mind would be impervious to my Jagan?” With a considering hum, the fox’s fingers brushed the small sprouts of amamo flowing into his hand as a seed germinated. When a few small spores also responded to his ki swell, reaching out for him, Kurama smiled to himself.

            “Perhaps not, but can you gather the information you need while his water beast is yet—”

            They leapt away from one another as a watery fist punched down between them onto the sand, and Hiei yelled his response over the ensuing din.

            “You’d better have a plan for this!” A small, annoyed nudge from the back of his mind at Hiei’s presumptious statement flashed across the fox’s consciousness for a moment before he managed to stifle it back, chastising himself. Now was not the time to think of all that.

: : :

            The Gorenju Team. Ani took great pleasure in informing them that Otouto’s ‘errands’ were more pressing than him fighting in this battle. (It was not unlike that loudmouth of the Urameshi team’s statement to the Uraotogi team, when they entered the ring with only three of their members.) As ordered, Karasu took the first fight—one against some low-class idiot with a bald head, green skin and an unattractive overbite. Both his fighting style and appearance left much to be desired. Honestly. Why—of all the weak ones in this tournament—did he have to face one whose attacks actually stank? Surely Ani had known of this, and so arranged to have him fight the very ugliest of them all. The girl with the pink ponytail would have made a far better opponent (at least she was more pleasant on the eyes).

            Stirred from his thoughts by the green demon across the ring from him shouting “Die!”, the crow youkai sedately stepped to the side to allow the whirling ball of stinky energy to glide harmlessly past him and into the stands, its acid disintigrating all in its path. As the youkai began summing up his energy again—with more futile bravado—the taller demon chuckled humorlessly to himself as he began to calmly advance. Best get this over with, at least. He allowed his distaste to show at a particularly stupid comment by the moronic demon, forehead drawn together in irritation as he muttered “Are you an idiot?” under his breath. He leapt into the air, and a vibrant red wisp of youki caught the edge of his senses. He didn’t bother to look for it, physically, but smiled slightly from behind his mask as he recognized the familiar pulse of ki.

            Kurama was watching this fight. How could he have failed to notice~?

            His mood suddenly much better, Karasu put more flair into his movements. He couldn’t give too much away, lest Kurama figure out his ability before their fight had even started—ah, yes, he’d forgotten. As beautiful as the youko was, he was still moderately weak. Karasu tended to forget how far above other demons he now was, since training to defeat Otouto. It was too likely that Kurama couldn’t see his ki—well, that was a shame, even as it would make playing with him that much easier. It always helped to have the advantage.

            Gliding down towards the gawping green-skinned demon with ease, the crow youkai elegantly extended his right hand and caressed the top of the other demon’s right shoulder. He didn’t have to touch him, of course, and the timed bomb he’d released into the muscles there was an invisible hum of youki as he floated gracefully away to an impressive—if intentionally understated—landing. Unhurriedly, he straightened, not bothering to glance behind him at his opponent, and all the while counting down the seconds in his head. Just after the blast he was moving again, and easily fell upon the youkai as he turned, left hand clutching his right shoulder—which was all that remained of the limb. Soon after that, his left arm was blown off, as well, and Karasu landed neatly once more, his back to his victim. It took longer to do it this way, but since Kurama was watching he’d give him a show. Pecking away at his opponent, taking little by little until there was nothing left…

            To that line of thought, he turned, feeling a tad playful. Karasu raised his right hand, enjoying the look of fear blossoming out on the weaker demon’s face and allowing his eyes to glint in mean amusement.

            “Well then, where should the next one be? Your feet, your abdomen, or how about your head—?”

            “S-Stop!” The youkai then had the cowardice to turn and run. “H-Help me!”

            He spared only a moment to scoff, at that—“How unsightly!”—before simply leaping high into the air and gliding down to deliver the final three bombs which would tear the youkai apart from the inside. He landed, kneeling, and stood slowly, straightening completely just as they detonated. Sliding his hands into their dark pockets and generally ignoring the cheers of the demonic crowd as he strode away from the smoldering remains of his opponent, he felt a spark of delight upon feeling Kurama’s eyes on his back. Days of observing the youko whenever possible had allowed him a certain sensitivity when he was involved, after all.

            He wondered what expression that beautiful face was making, at the moment.

            Bui’s fight was predictably quick, as well. He didn’t even need the axe, it was mostly just used to intimidate weaker opponents. It was actually ironic that he was matched up against a muscular blockhead who boasted about the size of his own sword. Karasu would have almost laughed at the look of utter bemusement and then calculating relief at an assurance of victory on the stupid cyclops’ face—were it not for the fact the demon was dead in less than two minutes.

            Ani’s fight was cruel as usual. Must Ani always feel the need to bring up the fact that Bui and Karasu were both once as weak as that proud fighter in the ring? (The young demon was the only one of his remaining teammates to survive both Ani’s initial attack as well as the dastardly mind-game Ani’d set on them, afterwards.) At least Ani didn’t mention they’d been ‘in service’ for just about forty years, this time.

            Karasu could never forget the day he and Bui were forcibly inducted into the Toguro Brothers’ gang.

            Thrown to the ground to land on his stomach, gracelessly, Karasu forced himself up from the polished wood of the hallway outside the room where his target slept. Only, the target hadn’t been there. No sooner had he set foot in the room—silent as death—than he was flung to the opposite wall by elongated, spindly fingers and Bui came rushing to his aid from his lookout post down the hall.

            The battle hadn’t lasted long.

            Cupping his right palm over the open wound in his side, blood dripped down and pooled against the palm of the arm propping him up in a sitting position. Bui was facedown, nearly unconscious and unable to speak—possibly due to the blow to his head?—beside him. Otouto stood in the doorway, the moonlight leaking in the windows framing his bulky shoulders (and the monkey-like appendage of Ani which perched on one) in the doorway. Karasu would not know later where he found the strength to speak, over the humiliation of being defeated so completely, for the first time in his life. It made no difference—he did not want to live past this.

            “Quickly—kill us.”

            “No. Those who have lost have no right to demand anything. Whether you live or die is decided by me, the victor.”

: : :

            He’d realized Kurama was gone in a moment. Ever since he could remember, the crow youkai had been a light sleeper. He felt eyes on him at some point in the night, but remained absolutely still even as Kurama shuffled about, closing the door near-silently behind him as he left. Sliding slowly out of bed to follow him after he heard the front door shut, he peered out one of the windows carefully and was treated to the sight of a panicky reaper with blue hair clinging onto his fox. Violet eyes narrowing, he watched as Kurama’s face grew somber, and within moments he was sliding onto the ferry girl’s oar, taking off into the night. The silent pulse of Kurama’s ki—slow and languid when he had been so near—began to speed up before then rapidly rocketing up its pace, presumably as the ferry girl phased off to wherever they needed to go. It was a pull in a northerly direction, and the crazily-beating alert against his senses as to Kurama’s whereabouts (due to that first seal, applied so many months ago) was only just able to be stifled enough that he could think.

            It was likely a Reikai mission, then. No wonder Kurama had not come back inside to warn him of his absence. Casting a glance upstairs towards the kitsune’s sleeping mother, his face tightened as something unfamiliar pricked at his chest. Kurama was leaving him without his permission, yes, without even a moment’s notice, without even bothering to see how he would feel about all this—

            But there was trust. And something… bothered him, upon the thought that if he were to give into his urges to kill and maim, Kurama would return and there would likely be something rather close to betrayal in his gaze before it would turn to rage and Kanisawa would never be able to touch him without reprisal, again. A quiet, plunging tingle shuddered up the back of his neck at the thought, before he quashed it.

            While he was heading to the kitchen to write a note for the redhead’s mother, the reincarnate cursed to himself when he realized—even if it was only for a fleeting moment—that he had thought of himself as ‘Kanisawa’. His fist tightened around the pen in his hand, and seething violet eyes bored into the paper as he scribbled hastily on it. Kurama would not be back by morning, he could assume. The best course of action? Assure Kurama’s mother that he was safe, and beat a hasty retreat, himself. There was something in him that wanted to chase after the fox, as soon as possible, but—

            The demon’s eyes hooded in thought. It would be in-character for the teenager he was playing to rush recklessly after his lover, would it not? At the same time, a Reikai affair meant the presence of at least the ferry girl, and most likely also the brown-haired detective who had defeated Toguro. A small swell of gratitude greeted this thought of the Urameshi boy, but he quietly swept it aside, turning to peer pensively out the kitchen window at the darkness. There was no doubting he wished to know what Kurama was doing, without him. Perhaps it would be best to not think too much into it, and simply follow the teenage response? After all, were he truly a mere human with a high spiritual sense, he should have no fear of charging after Kurama and into the fray of one of his Reikai Tantei battles… There was the thought that he could do little in the way of assisting in the battle, of course, but it still remained that he wished to be assured of Kurama’s return.

            Or is it simply guilt over the fact Kurama is going into a fight without his full strength?

            (His second seal had worked marvelously well in its intended duty of leeching ki into him for those hours the youko had been asleep, tonight, after all.)

            But no, it was not worry over the youko’s well-being. Kurama could handle himself.

            And yet—

            He could ensure the entire Kanisawa family would be away for the day. He could make dinner in advance, be assured Tomiko had the necessary money for lunch and that Aunt Kumi would be away from the house all day at an engagement. Wasn’t there an expo in Tokyo, today? He could likely use their connections to gain a ticket, even so late. Uncle Junzo had a business meeting with the inferiors of his company two days from now, but that could be moved up. It was only a bureaucratic conference, after all. Ticking off the possibilities, a slow smile began to curl over his face. Yes. Yes, he could chase after Kurama. His reason? ‘I felt something was wrong’. And his reiki signature had likely evened-out by now, so he would not seem suspicious to others on whom he had not placed a seal. Chuckling to himself, the seeming teenager set the note against the coffee-maker, where Shiori would find it in the morning. Turning, he quietly padded over to the washer-dryer and frowned a little upon finding his clothes still wet. No use. Taking his cell phone (which had been carefully extracted from his pants and placed atop the kitchen table), he soon brought it to his ear. Kanisawa kept his voice low.

            “I need you to come pick me up.” He smiled upon receiving no excuses, just a quick assent from his driver. Excellent. “Yes, the Minamino house. If you’re here in a half-hour I’ll consider giving you the day off.” He disconnected the call, pocketing his phone and inwardly satisfied that he didn’t need to bother to tell the man to be quiet. Ascending the stairs at last, he went about gathering a few things. Firstly, he took out one of Kurama’s uniforms (jacket, undershirt, pants and socks), followed quickly by a simple white button-down, black pants and a tie. He changed quickly into this second outfit, trying not to get too caught up in the fox’s scent which was particularly heavy around the collar. These extra precautions would do well to convince Shiori of the truth of that note. He folded his used pajamas neatly—then reconsidered, and instead tossed them on the bed hap-hazardly. There, that should look more like a teenager’s style. Much as it caused him to twitch inside, he left the bed and futon unmade, grabbed a pair of socks for himself and descended the stairs, Kurama’s uniform tucked safely under an arm.

            Noticing at the genkan that Kurama’s sneakers were gone, he paused, frowning a bit. The kitsune’s brown school shoes still sat there innocently, of course, and this threw a bit of a wrench in his plans. Sighing, the demon placed the uniform aside on the couch, and went rummaging for a duffel bag, as well as jogging clothes. This completed (although it had taken a bit longer than he would have liked), he stuffed the uniform, jogging outfit and brown school shoes into the duffel and slung it over his shoulder before heading back to the kitchen. He carefully pocketed his previous note and began to scribble a new one.

Minamino-san, I apologize for leaving like this, but Suuichi wished to go for an early jog this morning, and so I had my driver pick us up and drop him off at the Academy. I hope Kuwabara Shizuru-san will be well soon, and thank you for your hospitality in allowing me to spend the night.

            Hearing a car pull up on the street outside just as he was finishing this second note, the demon smiled to himself. He slid a hand into his pocket to be assured the first note hadn’t fallen out, and on his way down the hall grabbed Kurama’s school bag by the handle, bringing it with him—the perfect farce. Now he only had to arrange the events for his ‘family’s day, and hopefully within two hours he could be headed north, following his fox. He strode briskly across the lawn to the opened door of the limo waiting for him, sliding in and glancing up at the pre-dawn sky as the door was shut behind him.

            He had never missed being able to fly more than he did, right now.

            “Takashi-sama, are you wishing to head—”

            Cutting off his driver’s question, his tone was succinct.

            “Yes, home. After that, please contact Aunt Kumi’s driver. He will be needed, today.”

: : :

            Even upon feeling Kurama’s ki swell, Hiei didn’t waste any time plunging right back into the fray. The fox likely did  have something planned, and so he would merely have to have faith in him. Yes, Kurama had a great many flaws, but at least in battle Hiei knew the fox would never let him down. Turning his mind from this, though, he narrowed his eyes at Seaman.

            “Disctract him.” Hiei sent a pulse of assent to Kurama’s telepathic comment, and gathered up his energy for another attack. His sword by itself was doing no good, and neither was the Rengoku Sho? Only one option left, then. Summoning, Hiei growled under his breath as the air began to charge from the amount of energy swirling around him. Green-black flames began to lick harmlessly at his skin, and he leveled a nasty glare on the water beast which had paused to observe him, its sightless holes for eyes widening then narrowing as it leered at him, stepping forward over the seawater until it just reached the bay. It was a pity they couldn’t employ the obvious weakness that it couldn’t leave the water, because Seaman himself refused to give them that opening. He didn’t care for the human boy, no matter how big his eyes were. No one with any amount of morality could stand by as someone so kind as his sister was tormented. Vision blazing red again at the thought of her scream, Hiei shouted death to the beast as he raced forward as fast as he could, a boot slapping against the seawater as he leapt, raising his blazing sword high above his head and tensing his muscles for a quick end.

            “Jao Ensatsu Ken!” The water hissed as it made contact with his sword and Hiei grit his teeth, willing the should-have-been quick strokes of his inflamed sword to keep their speed. The sword got caught against the water tension of the beast’s glowing skin and it roared over the loud hiss of evaporating water. But it wasn’t just the water—despite the heat of his flames, they were undoubtedly growing smaller upon contact with the creature. The fire demon grit his teeth in hatred and changed his angle of attack, trying to stab instead of slash. The beast roared again, but soon made to alter its body and avoid his sword even as he quickly tried to make use of this newly-discovered weakness. Apparently the heated metal also injured it, and so Hiei concentrated the green-black flames until they swirled so near the blade that it glowed like a poker. Keeping his energy burning hotly at full power, he flit from his momentary place at the creature’s shoulder, trying to make cuts wherever he could. The water creature was fast, but the pain apparently made it sluggish—they could use this.

            Hiei smirked as he heard a cry behind him. Had it worked, then?

: : :

            Mitarai stared in fear up at the grinning face of Koenma’s newest detective. Urameshi-kun had caught him off-guard as he stared in newfound awe at the fire demon’s new attack. It actually seemed to be working?! And such determination! Mitarai felt his heart swell in admiration for the whole of Hiei’s species. Such loyalty! All for his sister?! How amazing! Humans would never band together like this, any other brother would have likely run from this battle in utter fear. He could almost ignore the fact that Urameshi-kun was dragging him out of the surf, but still he began to struggle, kicking at him until he landed back in the water with a splash, the waves lapping at his ribs. After his initial plunge into the sea he’d been standing, and the salt had helped clean the wounds on his thighs. They’d already begun to clot. Quickly, he reached down under the water and ripped one scab open, ignoring the pain as well as the fact he probably shouldn’t be losing any more blood. It would be worth it, to die in a fight with a youkai like Hiei! In the instant it took Urameshi to grab him again, the water rumpled and curled, and a hard watery fist thrust itself at Urameshi’s cheek, enabling Mitarai to slip away.

            “D-Damn, there were two?!” Grinning again as he gained the upper hand once more, Mitarai scooted back into the surf—bumping into something? He glanced behind him, seeing nothing but ocean and frowned as he spotted a bit of eelgrass on his shoulder. Mitarai raised a hand to brush it off, but to his surprise it slithered away from his fingers and slid down to wrap firmly around the torn jeans fabric at the tops of his thighs. There was a voice in his ear, cool and soft.

            He’d forgotten about the redhead!

            “So they come from your blood. We can fix that, I think.” Desperately, he tried to dive away under the waves, but two expert hands restrained his arms so he couldn’t move—could do nothing but watch as more eelgrass wound around his injures snugly, like bandages. He cursed, trying to get a glare behind him and free himself.

            “L-Let me go! I’ll have them kill your friends!” He laughed as the little water creature he’d just created landed another punch on Urameshi and then snapped his victorious vision to where Hiei’s flames were just beginning to die out. Sure, his water beast had suffered a little damage, but when he was in the ocean it just didn’t matter! Throwing his head back and laughing as Hiei couldn’t quite dodge a swiftly-formed punch out of nowhere—ah, water was so wonderful, with all its malleability~!—that voice in his ear was back, softer and yet somehow more threatening.

            “You think they’ll die that easily?” More tendrils of eelgrass swept over his body and Mitarai gave a shout for help. Hiei was once more buried in the sand, so his beast turned from the beach where it had flung him and instead bore down upon them. Mitarai grinned.

            “No, but you just might!” He felt the redhead behind him begin to back up, and could have almost laughed as the beast bore down upon them both, sweeping them into its arms and soon into its watery innards.

            “Wh—?” As the redhead’s grip on him loosened in surprise, Mitarai wriggled away and the beast quickly maneuvered itself from around Mitarai so that he was breathing the free air and standing in the surf, once more. At this point it was irrelevant that his arms were still pinned to his sides, due to that eelgrass. Pulling in a huge breath, Mitarai smirked over his shoulder at the wide green eyes floating amidst a mass of red hair—his captor-turned-captive literally caught in the belly of his beast.

            “Trapped! You’re trapped! There’s no way you’ll get out of there now, because—” Just as he turned his attention back to his two other opponents, a hard fist landed on his cheek, and he hurtled into the water. When he resurfaced by a hand buried in the yellow collar of his sweatshirt, hard brown eyes dug into him, angry and annoyed.

            “Let him go. Let him go, or I swear I’ll—” Urameshi didn’t get to finish his sentence, as in another moment there was an explosion of green from within his water beast and both of their attentions turned to it, watching as seaweed moved to tangle through the ever-changing mass of water. Mitarai could feel his beast stiffening involuntarily, its movements stilling even as a cone of seaweed seemed to tunnel into its chest, a clear—if slightly breathless—voice ringing out from it.

            “Get him out of the water, Yuusuke! Knock him out!” The cone of seaweed tried to grow, and he could feel his beast fighting back, making the tunnel of air disappear. Mitarai smiled, even as he was dragged towards the beach, Hiei flitting to fight with the smaller water creature to prevent it from interfering with Urameshi. His larger one yet attempted to move despite the seaweed holding it mostly still, trying to step into position to keep Mitarai from being taken away. As the beast began to show signs of victory, the seaweed receding a bit—meaning that the redhead must be running out of air!—he let loose a laugh, even as he felt drier sand brush against his jeans.

            “You’ll never do it in time! He’s done for! You—”

            A bruising fist in his gut was all Mitarai knew before everything went black.

: : :

            Still a bit dizzy from the lack of air, Kurama landed wobbly on his feet, teetering to the side before a damp, bristly cone of hair poked him under the chin. Rubbing the salt covering his eyelids away, the kitsune blinked down and fought a small fond smile as he found one of his arms over Hiei’s shoulders. The fire demon was looking resolutely away as he helped him over to where the blond boy lay facedown on the beach. Yuusuke breathed a sigh of relief, falling back to sprawl on the sand and Kurama found he had to chuckle, taking a careful place beside his friend. Yuusuke turned his head to watch him and grinned a little, giving the V-sign.

            “Good job, foxy. Ugh!” He thrust the heels of his hands into his eyes, groaning loudly. “Hiei don’t kill him, we need him to find Yukina.” Covering the resulting almost-smile politely with a few fingers, Kurama cast an amused glance to the fire demon glowering a little ways away, sword hilt still held tightly in his hand. Hiei turned away, then, scarcely sparing another glance for the pair as he stalked over to regain his cloak and then disappeared.

            Kurama wasn’t too worried, though. Hiei wouldn’t go far—not with Yukina's safety at stake. Sighing to himself, he cast another glance towards the blond boy lying facedown beside him, forehead creasing a hint in confusion.

            What is a human doing with these sort of powers, it’s—

            Ah.

            He blinked, noticing the narrowed brown eyes upon him, at last.

            “Yes?” Pushing himself up to sit, Indian-style, the detective thrust a finger at him from his side of the unconscious human they’d managed to apprehend.

            “Something ain’t right with you, and hasn’t been for a while. Spill.” Summoning his best reassuring smile—only to have it falter as Yuusuke’s stare just hardened—the redhead sighed, looking away and absently raising a hand to try to comb some of the larger sea-salt granules out of his hair, voice quiet.

            “It’s my own issue, Yuusuke. You needn’t worry over it.” He knew Yuusuke wouldn’t be satisfied with that answer, but Kurama could at least attempt to keep him out of it.

            He had a feeling Hiei would prefer to keep what had transpired between them private, as well.

: : :

            In a tree far enough from the beach that it was out of earshot, Hiei sat, leaned against the trunk and scowling quietly in frustration at the bluish glow of his sister’s hiruiseki in his palm, oblivious to the sunrise which had started to light the sky above. Now that the fight was over, something bothered him in the back of his mind about that pattern he’d seen imprinted on Kurama’s cheek. There was a slight strange ki emanating from it—enough that he knew it was invisible to the fox. Well, obviously. Kurama was too vain to have something like that be obvious on his face. What peaked his curiosity, though, was the fact that the writing was ancient Makaian.

            Much like the grassroots kanji sometimes employed in Japanese writing (Kurama had old-Japanese copies of such classics as the Genji Monogatari in his bookshelf at home, otherwise the subject would have never come up and Hiei would have never known of this), this particular style was very specific to a certain time period in Makai history. If he concentrated, Hiei could feel the hum of two other wards on the fox, although they were hidden from view (the one on his elbow by cloth, and the one on the back of his neck by hair). He couldn’t discern the true nature of them without being able to read ancient Makaian, however—but one seemed to function as a ki-blocker? One that rendered a certain presence invisible to the wearer?

            Hiei tried not to think of all the times over the past six months that he’d considered heading back to Kurama’s neighborhood, hoping his ki signature would speak enough of his presence that Kurama would seek him out. So, then. Kurama had been determined to move on? Good, he thought fiercely, ignoring the small thread of doubt curling uncomfortably in his throat. There was nothing Hiei would give him, anyway. It was best that Kurama had rendered Hiei’s ki signature invisible to him, for a time. Although he’d obviously required help, as his own ki would do no good to activate it on himself… Kuwabara or Genkai hadn’t helped him, no, it wasn’t their reiki pulsing from those invisible patterns.

            Then who?

            A thought that Kurama had met someone else who could do this for him entered into his head, and Hiei ground his teeth. Well, fine then! Let that damned youko go find someone else to bother and deceive, Hiei’d have no part of it. What did he care that Kurama had reeked of someone else, it’d been long enough that he didn’t give a rat’s ass over what the fox chose to do.

            After this, Yukina would be returned to Genkai’s, and they would again cease contact.

            Some part of him wasn’t glad to see Kurama looking well after all this time, that Kurama apparently was unaffected by his absence— No, that wasn’t right. Hiei was glad that his initial predictions had been correct, that they would both live through this separation.

            Perhaps things could go back to the way they’d been, before this whole unneccessary emotional mess?

            —Not that he’d missed Kurama’s presence thrumming familiarly at his side.

~*~To Be Continued~*~