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 Two: Missing
Word Count: 5,887
Anime: Yuu Yuu Hakusho
Pairing: KuramaxHiei, ?xKurama
Warning: Shounen ai, violence
Author: Kita Kitsune
Date: Saturday(earth-day!), July 25, 2009
Miscellaneous Notes: I honestly started writing this chapter the day before my birthday (May 23rd), and then got sucked into a family birthday party after I’d written about eight pages of it. D: Yeah, the party was nice, but I was writing~! …Anyway. I finished up the last two pages of this chapter early in the morning with little sleep in about an hour, so if it seems weird near the end that’s probably due to the two-month hiatus before I could sit down and write again. Gah! I’d really appreciate any comments on this fic. Really, really. Silver love, remember~! :3

: : : : : : :

~Four Months Later~

Little had changed in the weeks that followed, other than he’d grown too used to being alone, now. Alone in the endless stretch of humanity that pressed upon him, daily. Oh, his mother was all well and good… but the rest of them, he found were beginning to chafe. That telltale sparkle that always gave the humanoid kitsune an odd sort of appeal was nowhere to be seen. Even his admirers had begun to notice the way his eyes would turn on them, empty despite the perfect smile curling over his lips—as though the soul behind them was darker, more subdued than in years past.

Hiei had been gone… for how long, now?

The Dark Tournament seemed years away—no, not that the little koorime had been at all encouraging of their relationship, during that time… but… the softer memories, ones not associated with blood and gore were what assaulted his mind, daily. It made it all the more painful when he slipped out of those daydreams and would glance towards the window of his room on some half-dead hope that a familiar form would have alighted there, staring out at the night…

The compact mirror in his pocket beeped, and the former thief slipped quietly into the shadows of an alleyway before slender fingers curled around the device, pulling it out and flipping it open. No surprise—the blue-haired ferry girl’s bright face lit up the display, and he offered yet another habitual smile towards her in greeting as she began to speak, voice lightly fuzzed by interference of some sort.

“K-Kurazzt! Koenmzzzzt-mawants youzzto—“ He paused, interrupting her with a calm tone.

“Botan, I’m afraid you’re coming in rather sporadically. The signal’s being interrupted by something. Do you need me to move?” Here he could see her static-wrought face (an effect of the malfunctioning device, no doubt) pause, blinking at him as she shook her head, mouth opening to—

Pffffzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

He would not have been the least bit surprised (had this been one of the more common cell phone devices), to have read the blinking words ‘Call Dropped’ on the screen now filled with grey static. The redhead sighed, pocketing the communicator and continuing on his way. Perhaps… not home, this time. The former youko found in himself a desire to run, to simply pop into Makai for a brief span of time, transform to his kitsune-self and run through the deadly forests of his homeworld until he was exhausted.

“Minamino-kuuun!” …but it was not to be. The tall boy turned, offering yet another smile towards the girls that were running towards him—no doubt intent on receiving help with studies or asking for a date, of sorts…

Human existence had become so wearying without the daily distraction and company of his favored youkai.

: : :

“Eh? What’s that? Kurama’s in trouble… ?” A swift nod greeted this, blue head bobbing on the circular screen of the communicator held at an almost careless angle between rough fingers. Roan depths blinked at her. “How do you know?”

“Well, his communicator wasn’t working and there was interference and Reikai devices never get interference unless it’s from some sort of spirit realm creature hovering around someone or if they’re in a realm—like when you were in Maze Castle—where the spiritually-charged atmosphere interferes with the signal and then I lost him because the call dropped and—“

“Okay, I get it, Botan. I’m on my way to check on him.“ And he would have closed the compact with that, already ready to move—but the ferry girl shrieked in an attempt to get his attention before the fateful ‘click’ that would disconnect the call.

“Yuusuke! Wait! Koenma-sama doesn’t want you going after Kurama! We’ve finally located Hiei!” Here the brunet paused—and thus, reopened the device to its fullest extent, images of his not-quite-human ‘friend’ running through his mind… as well as Kurama. He’d seemed—off, somehow. Something wasn’t right, in his aura. Damn it all if he could tell what it was, though… the youko was too good at hiding things.

“…Well?” He asked impatiently after a few moments’ pause from the Reikai emissary on the other end. “Where is Three Eyes?” Botan hesitated, again, fuchsia depths watching him quietly.

“He’s in Hokkaido. Koenma-sama wants you to go and bring him back to this city.” Unseen, her thoughts played out behind another pause… Koenma-sama doesn’t like the fact that, despite Makai being barred to Hiei, he can’t keep tabs on him as well as he could if he were restricted to just one city… the city where his other Reikai Tantei happen to reside.

Yuusuke snorted.

“What, you expect Hiei to come? Just like that?” Here the girl pursed her lips, pointing at him through the communicator, the pad of her index finger pressing against the screen.

“Only if it’s you, Yuusuke! We can’t send Kuwabara on this—” She shook her head. “Besides, with Kuwabara’s enhanced spiritual sense he’s more likely to be able to find out what’s going on with Kurama. It has to be you that goes and gets Hiei back. No one else! This is an order from Koenma-sama!” Here her tone became less authoritative, and her eyes softened in what might have been sadness, cutting off any smartass response the brunet might have given, to being ‘ordered around’. “…Please, Yuusuke. It’s taken us six months to find Hiei, since he disappeared from the city. Something isn’t right. Please find him and bring him back.”

“…Che!” He mumbled as the signal cut out, flipping the device shut—albeit with a bit of bad humor, disguising the uneasiness he felt at the situation. It wasn’t like Hiei to just take off without a word—well, actually it was, but he usually at least told Kurama where he was going, so the kitsune could inform the rest of the team as to his whereabouts (if he were needed). This time, though… the redhead had seemed unusually withdrawn after the koorime’s departure. Sure, the fox was always a quiet guy (unless you made him mad), but… that, accompanied with the lengthy absence of their short friend seemed a strange coincidence. Perhaps they’d had a fight? He should find Kurama—but, maybe he should call Kuwabara, first. No telling what shit Hiei had gotten himself into, and he’d be closer to finding out (and possibly ‘rescuing’ the Jaganshi—he couldn’t deny the thought made him smirk), the sooner he left. Flipping open his compact again, he pressed the button to dial Kuwabara.

Although he hated to say it, he had to make a decision as team leader, here. Koenma’s ‘orders’ aside… Kuwabara really wasn’t fast or strong enough to be able to bring Hiei back. In the wrong mood, the koorime would just get pissed off at the carrot-top and disappear somewhere else for an indefinite amount of time until he was found, again. At least this time he’d stayed in Japan (Hokkaido was only a few hours’ bullet train ride away, after all), but if he took off again it could be another couple of months of searching to locate the youkai. No way Yuusuke was going to be tormented by his curiosity that long…

No, it has to be me. And it has to be now. Besides, Kuwabara could go check out what was going on with the kitsune…

“Moshimo—Urameshi!”

“Hey, Kuwabara. Listen—”

: : :

Koenma slumped back in his chair, with a sigh. Stubby fingers pinched the bridge of his nose, massaging the spot there. The scene—a two-year-old, apparently suffering from a migraine—might have looked hilarious to someone who didn’t know the would-be toddler was actually centuries of years old.

The never-ending stack of papers was only seeming to grow bigger as time passed, and after this brief respite he took up his stamp once more, leaning forward to continue his documenting and approving or rejecting of various appeals… ugh, there were so many.

Ugurashi Hinate, thirty-five-year-old human male killed in a gas leak of his home. Wife and son spared, as they were out of the house. Appeal for reinstatement to Ningenkai to finish up some family business.

He didn’t have time for this. Did all people think they were special?! If everyone was an exception, what sort of rules did they have! People died when they were scheduled to! And with his father breathing down his neck to ‘keep at it, and enforce the rules’ he made… Oh, the godling just hated it! Yet—he knew it would only get worse as time went on. When his father died, he would be forced into the ‘real’ job. There were simply too many spirits to make an exception of all of them!

All of these ridiculous appeals… didn’t people know there were rules?! You didn’t just die, and then get to do whatever you wanted. He didn’t have a choice but to reject them all—but still, they needed this system, so the spirits could at least think that they had a chance at receiving an ‘accepted’ on their appeal form.

Rejected.

Atoshi Saya… driven by revenge…

Rejected.

Subarashii Hanae… child, died in the hospital…

Rejected.

Tanaka Chisato… fatally mauled… lion… safari in Africa…

Rejected.

Nakamura Kayla… born American, Japanese ancestry… clogged arteries, fatal heart attack…

Rejected.

Kanisawa Takashi… died while summoning the occult in Tokyo…

Rejec—

..Wait. The occult? He knew some humans still believed in it, but… The toddler leaned over the paper, narrowed gaze scanning down the vertical columns of the report.

Eighteen-year-old, worked as a waiter in a ‘Cosplay Café’, raised in foster care, parents died at an early age…

Just history. Golden brown eyes scanned further down the page, to the death report.

Was intent on calling a malign spirit to share his soul with.

Disgust welled up in him. There were always these detestable people… giving up their souls to demons, and such. Were they fools? If anything, the sorts of demons they would summon would not seek to share, only eat the offered s—

Soul not found.

Koenma felt a cold chill race up his spine. Oh, but these were the worst. If someone’s soul had been eaten, they couldn’t reincarnate. Their cycle would simply… stop. It was worse than dying. If your soul was completely consumed, all of your collected karma, anything and everything you had done or had ever been was just… gone. There was no coming back—and this boy had been one to invite it upon himself. Annoyed, now—both at the nature of the file and that the pause to actually read it to more depth than the others had wasted precious stamping time, he hurriedly made to judge the appeal—wait. Who had appealed it, if the soul was not present? He fleetingly glanced at the file again, stamp hovering over it. Amber eyes widened.

Appeal requested by: Kanisawa Meirin, age eleven.

Hurriedly, the demigod shuffled through his papers—finding not what he was searching for, he pressed the intercom, barking an order to the blue ogre on the other side.

“Jorge! Get me the file on Kanisawa Meirin, death date—“ Narrowed depths scanned the page, widening as they set upon the date that set her apart from all the other ‘Kanisawa Meirin’s in the documented listing of Reikai files.

Seven months ago, to the day.

The day after the Ankoku Buujutsukai ended.

“…Koenma-sama?” The blue ogre’s voice prodded tentatively to the sudden silence of his boss, but that golden gaze was fixed intently on the simple black-and-white print that told him the sister had died the same day as her occult-summoning brother. The very day after the Dark Tournament had concluded.

There could only be one reason that she, easy prey, had been spared. His mind raced.

For a demon to discard a child’s soul—a defenseless, pure and tender meal… and yet, focus on the more tainted older brother’s… it could only mean--

Someone was trying to return to the physical plane. Of all the demons that had died at the Dark Tournament… one would have to be strong enough to survive a day without a physical body—with enough youki to sustain them, despite being dead. Koenma could think of none that had had any youki when they died… naturally, if they had had youki, they wouldn’t have died! It was a frustrating thought—and his mind couldn’t determine all the demons who might have been powerful enough to survive death. They all had died, and that was the end of it. The Tournament had been a hellish nightmare for the entire Urameshi Team from beginning to end. He had no desire to revisit those memories.

The ruffled godling snapped an irritated response to the increasingly-anxiety-ridden-and-nervously-babbling oni on the other end of his intercom.

“Jorge! Get back to work!”

The brunet threw the paper down, fingers firmly locking it against the desk as he brought his stamp around.

Regardless. It was utterly inconsequential, and he had work to do. It was too much of a coincidence to suppose that the demon that had taken this little girl’s brother’s soul would be a former (in this case, deceased) contestant in the Ankoku Buujutsukai. Centuries of experience told him it was improbable and impossible. The demonic spirit would have had to travel over the barrier between Hanging Neck Island and the Ningenkai without deteriorating! From there, it would have had to have the wherewithal to gravitate towards the summoning ceremony and the singular sense of purpose to make it to Tokyo! Impossible! The stamp came down, judging the girl’s request to have her brother’s soul found. Just another run-of-the-mill occult ceremony victim.

They were foolish people, anyway, who only asked for trouble by seeking to summon demons.

Rejected.

: : :

Long legs wandered along somewhat aimlessly, the bearer of them being lost in deep thought. Urameshi had seemed rather snide in his ‘asking’ for a favor for him to check on the fox member of their team. Was it really as bad as all that? Surely he’d noticed the change in the kitsune’s aura, since Hiei had left… while the brunet may not have seen it, the simple way there were traces of pink around the Jaganshi’s purple energy and glimmers of violet at the edges of the youko’s fuchsia ki gave no room for doubt in his mind.

They had been training together, excessively. Of course he knew that they were closest to one another as opposed to he and Urameshi—it was too obvious! Kurama and Hiei fit together like he, the Number One Delinquent at Sarayashiki Junior High, and Urameshi did! He snorted to himself, head tipping up to give a glare towards some ruffians looking to be plotting to accost some poor old lady stepping out of the convenience store. The carrot-top stopped just beside her, smiling kindly towards the elderly woman struggling with her bags, leaning down to—

“Here, Obaasan, let me help you with—“

SMACK.

When his vision cleared he found he was on the ground, the old lady blinking curiously down at him, bereft of her bags as a very irate granddaughter who had to be in her mid-twenties glared down at him.

“Pervert! Leave my ‘baachan alone!” Huffing angrily, she kicked him once, in the stomach, which he curled in to protect as she gently (quite a contrast to her actions towards him) put a hand on her grandmother’s shoulder, guiding her off towards the parking lot with only a few suspicious glances back towards the lanky boy sprawled out on the sidewalk.

Oh, and he could hear the aforementioned ruffians snickering in the alley not so far away. That got his goat! He stood, bristling and eyes full of anger, brandishing his fists.

“Who’s that! Who’s laughing at the Great Kuwabara Kazuma-sama?!?! Get out of here before I beat you to a bloody pulp!!” The boys sneered at him, but seemed not to want a fight (they must be a few years younger), as they slinked back into the alleyway silently. Kuwabara snorted to himself. Stupid kids… playing all tough when they won’t even face a challenge, like men.

He resumed his walk, no worse for the wear (no matter how strong that lady’s granddaughter had been, her punches were no match for Urameshi’s—or Shizuru’s, or Keiko’s, to be honest), still puzzling over the strange turn of events. Hiei had been gone for a while, now—he wasn’t sure the amount of time, exactly. A couple months, maybe? Kurama had grown more withdrawn as a result… did he miss the little squirt that much? Sure, Hiei was sort of strong—but no match for he himself, surely! Although perhaps part of it had to do with them both being demons. The carrot-top nodded sagely, to that. It must be the reason the fox seemed so quiet, as of late.

Regardless if Urameshi had asked him to check on Kurama, or not… he’d been planning to visit him, anyway. Kurama’s mother made the best cookies, and he saw the other redhead less and less, and while he’d never had a reason to look for a demonic shadow hovering around the fox—he’d always assumed it was just some of Youko’s ki, poking out under the surface (who could blame Kurama if that were the case, given that the Dark Tournament had ended with the legendary fox youkai emerging in the kitsune’s final battle)—Kuwabara tended not to notice things like that, unless he was looking for them, anyway. It was alright. Despite all effeminate appearances, the youko was not someone to mess with. His opinion of the redheaded boy had gone up, sharply, from that initial fight with Genbu—maybe it had something to do with how mercilessly he dealt with that sword-hand guy (was it Ruru or Roto or something like that?) in his first fight and many of his other opponents in the Ankoku Buujutsukai. He shuddered to think of it. Hell, even Urameshi wasn’t that badass. He didn’t purposely kill just to ensure a victory… Ah, but now his thoughts were circling.

A frown passed over his face, brows knitting in consternation. Demons. Who knew how their minds worked? Hell knew he’d never been able to figure Urameshi out, but…

A blink interrupted his new train of thought, and he paused to turn around, examining the markings on the doors. The Minamino house was around here, somewhere—it was only two stops down from Sarayashiki, and a couple blocks from the station. Squinting, he craned his neck to the side, trying to see the further addresses, better.

Damn. Had it been so long that he’d really forgotten the way? Not to mention that it was impossible to find anything in Japan if you didn’t know right where it was… He was puzzling over this when a surprised voice broke into his musing from behind.

“…Kuwabara-kun?” The lanky boy whipped around, a wide smile on his face at the slightly inquisitive—and instantly-recognized—voice, brown eyes catching his own in a mildly surprised expression, a demure smile canting over the middle-aged woman’s lips. “…what ever are you doing here?” In her arms was a big brown bag of groceries, two or three plastic ones dangling from around her forearms.

“Minamino-san! Here, let me…” Chuckling softly, the brunette relinquished the bags to her son’s friend, rearranging her purse over her shoulder and casting another smile towards the tall boy as they walked on—he idly noticed, her smiles were just like Kurama’s. Patient. Kind.

“So, Kuwabara-kun—you’re a long way from home, ne? Looking for Suu-chan, I suppose?” He started, almost tripping but catching himself and laughing nervously—they were alike in more ways than one. She sure was perceptive!

“Er, yea—is he home? There was something I wanted to talk to him about…” As the pair retraced Kuwabara’s steps he mentally cursed—damn! He’d missed the right street to turn down by two blocks! Grumbling to himself, he just caught the lady’s answer, her voice turning a bit contemplative.

“I’m sorry to say, he isn’t—Suu-chan went out about an hour ago. Told me he was going to visit the mountains, since they’re only a few stops outside the city…” …Damn. Kurama practically never broke from his routine, and now… hell knew where he was! There were dozens of mountain stops at the edge of the city—Genkai’s temple compound, as well as a few others.

“Oh…” She turned to him, a warm smile adopting itself onto her face as she unlocked the door and stepped inside, slipping off her shoes and stepping up into her house slippers. The carrot-top simply ducked inside and stood there, holding the bags as she did this.

“You’re welcome to wait, if you’d like. He said he’d be back before dinner…” She carefully took the big brown bag from him and disappeared into the kitchen just on the other side of the rice-paper sliding door. The brunette was only a meter or so away as she set it on the counter.

“Um… No—thank you, Minamino-san—“ He bowed clumsily, trying not to spill the contents of the plastic bags he yet held, for her. Dinner was still quite a few hours away… he’d call on Kurama tomorrow. He smiled awkwardly at her thanks for his carrying the bags, bowing again.

“I’ll be sure to tell Suu-chan you stopped by. Would you like anything to take with you?” He was about to refuse, but as she pulled a few cookies out of a plastic tupperware container he felt his mouth begin to water. Minamino-san’s cookies made anyone’s taste buds sing with joy…

“… well—maybe just—one or two—“ She chuckled, seeing the hungry look that was no doubt in his eyes and wrapped several in a napkin, then handing him the package with yet another honey-warm expression.

“Feel free to come by anytime, Kuwabara-kun. It’s so nice to see Suu-chan’s friends.” It was perhaps a strange thing to say… but he chalked it up to Kurama being somewhat introverted (and lacking a few major things in common with his own classmates), so he just laughed, waving it off politely and bowing once more, backing out of the front door to show respect—waving a hand to stop the brunette as she began to step down into the genkan and see him to the door.

“Ah, yes—thank you, Minamino-san! No, no, I can see myself out—thank you! I will! If you’ll excuse me, shitsureshimasu…”

Kuwabara closed the door in front of him, then took off at a pace, eager to get away from the house. Kurama’s mother was nice… but she just made him nervous. She was nothing like his own mother, or sister—perhaps this was why he loved Yukina so much. Women like that were so thoughtful, caring… they needed to be protected. He was glad she had the kitsune to watch out for her—the plants at the door had rustled at sensing his ki, but let him safely inside. No doubt Kurama’s doing, that. He munched on a few cookies as he made his way back to the train station… a big hand then coming to smack the middle of his forehead.

Of course! Was he an idiot?! He should just call Kurama on the communicator…

With a grumble he flipped out the pink circular thing, pressing the button to dial the fox.

He waited.

The device beeped, and he cocked a brow upwards at the message that appeared on the screen, blinking.

Signal cannot be found. Please try again later.

—This had never happened, before. What the hell! Stupid piece of junk… Kuwabara grumbled, pocketing the device and storming off, biting violently into another cookie.

He’d be sure to get his hands on the fox, somehow, tomorrow! Hell, he’d skip his last class and stand outside the Meiou Academy Gate to wait if he had to!

: : :


Quiet.

Watch.

Breath.

Speed.

Crouch. Hide.

Go. Go.

Now.

Kill.

A flash of silver, and the neck of the rabbit was broken, held securely between sharp rows of teeth. They sank in silently, blood dripping from between them as the almost-white creature panted, slitted golden eyes darting about as his tails whipped around behind him in jittery excitement. What had been a mere run in the demon-laced forests surrounding Genkai’s temple compound had mutated into a shift to his kitsune form, as well as a free-for-all amidst the small prey animals found within. Some were Makai-bred—the only way for them to successfully co-exist with the youkai that inhabited the area around them. And oh, he’d forgotten how like home Makai hare tasted like. In typical beastly fashion he began to devour the creature raw—he was in his original fox form, and naturally this meal should not cause any discomfort for his more human stomach once he reverted back. The taste of blood on his tongue… it woke something feral in him, something that seemed to have last taken place far too long ago to be anything more than a vague dream.

Although he did reign himself in, a bit—it wouldn’t do to allow himself to completely slip. When this was all over he would be required to return home… upon glancing upward towards the dusk-lit sunset-wrought sky realization slowly filtered back to his consciousness—yes. He would have to leave, soon. A dull ache spread through his chest, at the thought.

His kitsune form was very nearly all instinct. It was his original form, and all reactions from it were as familiar as his name—the one form he could not seem to shield himself. Even so, there was not much to shield… common-variety foxes in Makai, as a rule, were not so intelligent. Yes, that had been himself once, unable to speak and sharing a den with his mother, father, and siblings.

Only through training and patience had he been able to shift to a humanoid form, and from there… from there his family shunned him. It hadn’t been right—they’d seen him fearfully when he’d tried to approach them, scarcely looking older than a human toddler(the manifestation of his age converted to human years for such an appearance), excited at his progress but his black papa had yipped the family into the den, despite his common red mama’s glance backward.

Heartbroken, he’d wandered away. They’d recognized his scent, of course… but… but was he too strange, like this? He’d thought it was so amazing, to be able to appear like one of the etched ink paintings of humans he’d seen by way of an ‘antique art’ display in one of the caravans that passed by a road. They didn’t often go to the roads, being a ‘proper’ fox family and generally avoiding the other brands of youkai and their doings… but he’d snuck off, once, and caught a picture of what seemed to be a small human family. Painted by a human artist, no doubt, and it had somehow found its way into Makai—perhaps from a favor done to a human, and the human had repaid with the painting. He was struck by the picture—what might have been a papa, a mama, and a baby.

Then, he’d realized many youkai had hands. Fingers. Or, at least a form where those aspects existed. Wouldn’t it be fun to try to appear like that? Wouldn’t it be fun to be able to pick things up with fingers and thumbs instead of only teeth? Weren’t hands and feet more convenient than paws? The young silver kitsune stared sadly at his pale palms, flexing the chubby fingers he had so meticulously formed from the picture in his mind. It had taken so long for him to get this far… he was still mostly furry, with a silvery layer covering all of his crafted skin, but at least it wasn’t as thick as when he was in full kitsune form.

And no, of course he didn’t have any clothes… and he still had his ears and tail, and for some reason a short crop of grey-white hair that rested just a little bit up off of the back of his neck. It had the same smooth, silky feel of fur when he nosed to his siblings’ or parents’ coats—and the only places where he didn’t have fur somewhere, even now, were on the insides of his hands. The young fox was entranced by the feelings he got from those fingertips—it was all too amazing that he’d been without such a sensation for too long. He liked this form. He could even go into town like this—

Here his melancholy returned with the sudden thought. No, no… papa and mama wouldn’t want him to go into town. They would already be mad at him for learning how to transform…

Kurama shook the old memories off. He frowned, as best he could in his current kitsune form, and quietly made the shift back to his redheaded self. Out of a sense of nostalgia, he silently regarded one of his human palms, glancing down to it after opening his eyes once the transformation was complete—it was far more perfectly formed than those first few stumbling attempts he’d made as a pup, mimicking the same structure he’d now simply been born with, in this life. A sigh snaked out to the air as he pocketed the hand, making his way quietly back through the dense forest towards the bus stop that would take him back to the central part of the city.

…well. At least that minor stint had raised him up, a bit. Perhaps now it was easier to go back, now. Perhaps, as well, his long experience as a youko was at last sweeping over him to help him go on. Hiei had not returned for… was it six months, already? Seven, since the end of the Tournament, at least, and so… Another exhale curled around the night air, softly.

Perhaps, then, half a year was enough time for him to move on. Even as it saddened him to admit it… even as it still hurt, somewhere, to contemplate it… if Hiei had wanted to return, he would have, by now. If Hiei did truly not need him… then these last few months proved it, didn’t it? So, perhaps he had been in denial… the end had just come, so suddenly. And yet…

He knew they were still tied together. It was likely best that the youkai had stayed away… if anything, the time proved the seriousness of the matter to the fox. That Hiei’s ‘boredom’ was not merely a passing flash of wind… Mm. However, it would likely still ache for a while. It was all right, though. It would be best for him to respect his friend’s wishes, no matter how painful the follow-through was. Even though in the past few months he’d felt strangely ungrounded. As though he were working his way through a mist—it seemed every corner he turned brought forth some small amount of dizziness. Well. When he was in his human form, at any rate. He’d not yet tried it with the humanoid guise of himself, but the kitsune aspect was certainly not affected…

It made him wonder.

The redhead was also becoming slightly suspicious of how quiet things were, lately…

: : :

Unseen, a dark figure silently followed the fox, feeling a perverse sense of satisfaction as he watched the seemingly-ever-elegant youko give way to animal instinct as he caught and killed that particularly unlucky Makai-Ningenkai-crossbreed of a rabbit.

How quaint.

Pleasantly, he shifted about in his tree, dark upon dark revealing only his glinting brown eyes in the obscurity of the branches. If the redhead had paid attention, he might have been noticed—but then, it was impossible. After all, this body’s soul was long fused with his own—he was much more in control of his facilities than initially, of course—and as a result it was only really half-alive… being rid of its human soul and replaced with a demonic one, of course. He had intended to make the bond as quickly as he could, but as his talents had not quite transferred to this form he was putting it off, instead taking to observe the fox whenever he could.

Ah, Kurama.

A smile quirked the lips of the teen, fingers splaying out over his own chest as that fiery mop of hair at last disappeared between the trees, the youko’s pensive spell apparently finished.

It was a credit to his own talents that he wasn’t dead—something that he would revel in, greatly, when it at last came time to reveal his plans to the fox.

Oh, he was biding his time. He would be sure to wait the correct amount of time before he would be sure the binding seal would work. It was agonizing—he’d been watching Kurama close to three months, now… it had taken quite a bit of time to acclimate to his new body, as well as squash the last remaining traces of humanity from his host’s mind. It was going well—the boy who had inhabited it before him had been an odd sort of punk… but at least his hair was growing well. It never did to look anything less than exquisite, and already he could tell his dark charm was returning, bit by bit. It was mildly annoying not to have access to his youki, however, and this he chalked up to the human form not being able to handle the substance. Rather irritating, indeed.

Which was why—when he at last affixed that binding, sealing ward into the redhead’s lovely pale skin—he would begin to recover his abilities at a faster rate. It would prove a most convenient spiritual link that would have dire consequences should the fox try to kill him. He smirked. Not that he minded that course of action, but it would be far nicer to remain around the kitsune in this plane. No one knew, after all, that he was still alive, and he intended to keep it that way as long as he could. If they both died if the redhead tried to kill him, it would be only trouble with Reikai from then on. Although the concept of having the half-human boy die with him was so delicious he nearly wished he’d made it happen, the first time.

“That was my mistake, dear kitsune.” He murmured to no one, leaning back against the trunk of the tree he was settled upon. A thoughtless sigh dusted over thin lips, fingers caressing the naked tiers in absent thought even as he relished the yet-still-foreign sensation of not wearing a mask. This human body, while all-too-inconvenient for the lack of youki he could summon, did have its perquisites—not having to wear a filtering mask being one of them. That dark mouth curled upwards at the corners in a low smirk, digits shifting to tap over his cheek.

“…but I shall not make such a glaring mistake, ever again.”

~*~To Be Continued~*~