All's Well

*

Shun-jun stumbled in, and all his men after him. They were more drunk with the poison than anyone at the celebration was from the wine.

“There he is. You!”

Kurama waved.

The SDF man was by him in a moment, frightening the hosts with his speed.

Kurama smiled. “Aw, please? Another hour and we’ll go right home.”

“You're drunk. You don’t think you’re leaving here alive, do you?”

Kurama leaned forward, crossing his arms. A bright rose glimmered, as vines wreathed up around him, blooming in great vivid shocks of red, spirals of velvet petals. “I’m not leaving here at all.”

*

“Stop,” Hiei announced. “Turn left.”

The captain yelled forward, repeating the order.

But the driver balked. “There’s a tribe of demons in that valley, an encampment over over a thousand – “

“What do you know?”

“Not as much as your psychic, sir, beg pardon – but I know that one. It’s a permanent settlement.”

“The lap dog is right.” Hiei appeared, armed and awake beside them. The beasts hauling the wagon shied away, whinnying.

“What?”

“I want a fight.” Hiei tilted his chin. “Go left.”

*

Shun-jun sneered. “Fine. Stay here and get slaughtered with the rest of the demon scum.”

Kurama lifted his brows. “Oh. I apologize, I forgot to mention the reason for this celebration. The opposing army has retreated. Below.”

Shun-jun’s nostrils flared. “Below what? Retreated?”

Kurama smiled. “Below our feet.”

The Marrin chanted.

Zel turned slowly. “What’s this about?”

“Celebrating the peace,” Kurama answered.

“What are they saying?” Harker grunted.

“Summer came, summer gold, summer green,” Kurama chanted with them. “Summer stays.”

He stood. A haze of blooming mosses, ferns and saplings rose with him. “Let me show you what they mean.”

Shun-jun had the sense to step back. He saw the wild blooms hanging in Kurama’s bright hair, shiny green leaves. He, of all of them, knew what it meant. There was a power in him that still could not be felt, but it was manifesting all around them. “Feeling good, fox?”

Kurama laughed. "I feel wonderful."

The SDF member scattered, marking Shun-jun’s wary retreat.

Kurama stepped through the corridor, his long robe dragging. Marrins stood, as curiosity or glee took them, and followed.

*

 

Outside the castle, it was summer. The low barren where the enemy had sunk in their torches and tent stakes in the snow was gone. In its place was a thick, vast prairie, still dotted with corpses and a few scavenging Marrin children, screaming when they found trophies and play acting at battle, spreading their hands over the grass and swatting one another with tree branches. Great canopied trees with rippling roots stuck up like pillars that anchored the sky. Their blooms, long tails of tiny white stars or clusters of pink petals, waved, shed, and sailed off with each breeze, perfuming the air.

Kurama looked out to the cliffs and called the vines down off them. It wouldn’t do to tear down the natural defense of the land. The shape was good, and the Marrins intended to live here for a very long time.

“I don’t think they believe me when I say it will all be snow again soon. But as long as I’m here, I’m feeding it,” Kurama said. "I like a garden. A forest."

Shun-jun stared out.

Kurama smiled.

“But…you aren’t touching any of this.”

“I don’t need to,” Kurama said. “My feet touch the earth, my lips touch the air. That’s enough to connect me.”

The SDF looked over, each one eyeing him.

Kurama felt a chill prickle his neck. He held up the rose.

“I am armed now,” he pointed out. “I am not a pitiful charge now. Weak and begging your protection…which you did not give. I warn you I will kill each and every one of you that comes at me, whether your intent is murder or restraint or simply returning me to the palace.”

“You’re a child,” Shun-jun sneered.

“Right. Keep your distance.” Kurama ran the energy back into his hand. He had lied, trying to impress them; he was not feeding the land – the forest, the garden like plains of flowers and grasses. No. They fed him.

Kurama pulled back the life force of the plains and unlashed the rose into a long, impossibly sharp whip. Then, lifting his hand, he readied to shield himself with the petals that blew freely past their feet.

“What a shame, Cerene,” Shun-jun said lightly.

“Huh?”

“You’re the only one that won’t look at the able to brag.” He lifted his hands. “I mean, there stands that great warrior, the demon bastard that slaughtered an army, and you could have had him like the rest of us. Naked and hideous, weeping and insane on the floor of a cave, sucking and spreading thigh for us. Begging and pleading.”

“The peace contract isn’t signed yet,” Kurama said.

Shun-jun growled. “What?”

Kurama shrugged. “With the threat gone, they’ve decided to talk it over. No military force will be needed in this arrangement. So you’d best get on home. Let me finish up. Tell Koenma we'll send an amended copy back for consideration.”

The captain chuckled.

“Fox. I don’t know who you think you are. You aren’t walking out of here alive – “

“I’m not afraid of you right now,” Kurama said. “I’m not angry. And I’m not intimidated. Listen. They trust me. I won their war. Their alliance is with me.”

“Now that’s funny,” Shun-jun pointed down, as if trying to do the sums. “Because I was thinking, why don’t we kill this whole band of hippies and you with them – “

“Because it would mean you failed. Failed to keep me under control; failed to escort me home safely; failed to defeat the enemy; failed to make peace.”

“They won’t know – “

“Hiei is watching. Alive, well, and keeping track of every detail of what passes between us. If the Marrin and I cannot speak, he will.”

*

Hiei nodded. He swung his blade out; the blood slipped off. He sheathed it, clean. “Well done, Yoko.”

The beasts whinnied desperately.

He hopped up on the back of the lead and flicked the reins. The animals began to pull forward, treading on the sliced bodies on their former masters.

One beast bent to chew on the captain’s ear.

“Fox. Your life's nearly interesting enough to keep me awake.” Hiei mused. He whistled sharply and drove the cart on.



*

Kurama stood, resplendent and fragile, looking out over the wild landscape. “You can fight me now. Maybe one or two will live. The Marrin will revolt and you’ll have to kill all of them. Then you’ll have to return across the wasteland alone to report. Or you can do me the generous favor of leaving quietly to report your complete success to your boss. I mean, what an admirable job you've done! Not a loss or permanent injury to your team; no civilians killed! Tell them that, be proud, and then telling him that I will be delayed. Say to send another team along to pick me up. One that includes Hiei. Or I can just return alone.”

Shun-jun sneered. “You think it works just like that – we just let you leave?”

Kurama nodded. “Simple, isn’t it.”

The Marrins, scooting around to pick up armfuls of the blossoms, abundant as snow, began to throw them in the air. A large wave showered between them.

Kurama turned and moved back toward the castle. “Please enjoy the scene.”

*

By the time Hiei was halfway through, the town was shut up and deserted. He ate a little at an abandoned market where the street lamps still swung lit. He let the wagon beasts chew on survivors while he sat down to spy.

He watched as the fox suffered his captain’s messy goodbye kiss as his former team packed up and left. Kurama did not raise his hands, did not strike back.

Hiei watched Kurama stand at the edge to see them go, guarding the walls with an armor of vines and lichens, soaking the air with a haze of pollen. Under his robes and fancy gifts and his own natural weapons, Hiei could see that the fox was trembling with apprehension and hope, grabbing onto the soil with curling toes.

“You're losing five piles of perfectly good mulch,” Hiei murmured. “Ginger idiot.”

*

 

 

 

 

(Thanks for reading! Please consider leaving comments or criticism.

Many thanks to Sekah, from Springtime for YYH, who beta'd this years ago.)