Immortal: Working it out, Storm

Working it Out

“Stop,” Youko demanded. “Again.”

Kuronue landed, harder than before, on his feet. His breath was heavy and ragged. He could see steam rising off his mostly bare skin like off the water of a hotspring. A week, that was all it had been, and he was already regretting his fixation with the arrogant, driving, drill sergeant of a fox. He was already wishing he’d stayed home so he could curl up for the winter with his nieces and nephews and forget all about ever wanting to be a thief. He was cold, hungry, tired, and sure that Youko was only allowing him to stay so he could sit back and watch him suffer.

Youko was not sitting back now, though. His back was rigid and he watched with a hawk-like attentiveness, eyes narrowed and watching for any flaw, however minuscule. Had his leg not been broken, he would be pacing around, following Kuronue’s movement with his own, watching from every angle. Perfection, it seemed, was an impossible goal; Youko hadn't given him the barest nod of approval since they had begun.

This is how it began, and this was how it would continue. Barring the first day, when Youko was still filled with enough opium to drug an elephant and throwing half-hearted death threats at Kuronue, they were up every morning, two hours before the frigid dawn, training.

Well, “training” was a very gentle word for it, in Kuronue’s estimation. “Torture” could fit better, or maybe “cruel and unusual punishment.” Kuronue was sure that this was payback for having indirectly broken Youko’s leg to begin with. He rocked back and forth on the balls of his (numb, freezing) feet and waited for Youko’s signal to start the motion again.

The exercise itself was simple dodge-and-attack. Youko would summon bamboo spikes from the ground, and Kuronue would dodge them all while attacking and destroying little clay discs that Youko whipped at him. He hadn’t yet managed to take out all the discs, and suspected he wasn’t going to, but he hadn’t been hit by any of the spikes since the second morning, when one of them left a nasty gash over one shoulder as a stinging reminder of his failure.

While Youko regarded him coolly, he checked himself, making sure his wings were held tight to his body; that all the feathers were in line. He longed briefly to have the strength of magic to change his shape the way his name dictated, but knew that would be a long time coming, so suffered that silently. No wings would make this so much easier.

He waited, his eyes passing over the courtyard and the marks his feet and the spikes had made. Here and there little dimples of snow marked the fall of a clay disc, or pieces of one. That was another hazard; he’d have to watch for the pieces and missed discs to assure he wouldn’t slip on one and decapitate himself.

The sun was desperately slow in coming, even though he could see the first streaks of grey dawn on the horizon, it would be too longbefore Amaterasu had made her way up the sky far enough to warm him even the tiniest bit. He cursed inwardly.

He waited.

Finally, Youko raised his arm, and Kuronue crouched, feeling the rumbling surge of energy as roots violently burst forth from seeds and took their place in the frozen earth. One second, two seconds, and he leapt, timing his jump with the growing of the spikes, kicking off from one, somersaulting over others, and was surprised not to hear the incoming whistle of a disc, but to see that the spikes were now growing out as well as up and were following him as he moved. In the space between one second and the next he caught Youko’s eye, daring him to add something more.

I’ll show you how worthy I am, you horrible, beautiful monster, he thought, grinning madly as he jumped and twisted and swung, dodging deadly plantlife with something that would almost be considered ease, if he wasn’t still so gods damned cold.

Youko watched.

Kuronue was good. He’d trained by himself before this, even for one so young. He had not even lived the full term of a human’s lifespan, let alone long enough to register any kind of importance for a demon. Youko wondered why he was even bothering himself training Kuronue, and doubted the Tengu would live to see next winter.

He was impetuous, defiant, spoiled… truly the son of a self-proclaimed king in every way. He’d never gone on a heist that required more than minimal effort, never in the dead of winter or the heavy, oppressive heat of the rainy season. He’d been in it for the cheap thrill and the reward of pretty baubles, nothing else. The rebel son, granting a loud “fuck you” to his father just for the hell of it.

Why am I even bothering?

There were plenty of answers to that. Because he was bored. Because he liked the thought of corrupting Sōjōbō’s youngest son. Because he was lonely.

Oh yes, lonely. That word, that entire concept lingered, loitering at the very edge of his thoughts as he trained the spoiled prince. The spoiled prince who had held him all through that first night, or what he could remember of it. He hadn’t moved a hair. He had stayed, for no reason.

He could have easily left, and I wouldn’t have noticed at all, he thought, turning the branches into a spiral trap, watching Kuronue expertly escape. Beginner’s luck, surely. Youko wouldn’t let him sit in the illusion that he was good enough to get through anything. He’d indulged that in Yomi, and had lost him for it. He still felt that betrayal bitterly, like salt being rubbed in a wound.

Kuronue executed a particularly difficult move, dodging well out of the way of a trap that would have been the death of any lesser creature. Youko almost applauded him, and stopped when Kuronue flashed him a cheeky grin.

No, he couldn’t think he was good enough, yet. He’d have to learn the hard way.

“Again.”

Hiei was not one often taken with horror. Ask him, and if you received an answer, it would merely be to tell you that you were a fool for even suggesting that he showed such weakness. It was vanity, but an allowable vanity, and true: the emotion rarely settled with him.

But now, standing in Kurama’s kitchen with only a flimsy bread-knife and his own speed between Kurama and almost certain death, he was horrified.

He could die right now. He could die and be gone forever, over and over the thought turned, panicked, but he kept the knife still and his body ready, sharp enough to kill the very old demon in front of him if he needed to. Deeper in his mind, he cursed himself. Let him die, all he brings you is trouble. Case in point: Right now. Look at yourself, Hiei, really…

Stop thinking.

Listen.

“Youko sent me to find you,” and the horror took a completely different turn. Now it was horror and anger.

The lie spilled out and the room changed. Kuronue loosened his grasp on Kurama’s neck, and Hiei put the knife away. Kurama seemed to curl in on himself, in pain or fear Hiei could only guess, and they moved in slow concert until they no longer touched, just an invisible line of sight. For that moment, Kurama and Kuronue stared each other down, and Hiei ceased to exist, wholly separate from their world for a breath, a heartbeat, another painfully long stretch of silence.

And then, Kuronue spoke.

“Youko… has forgotten me,” Hiei’s eyes were on Kuronue, but he could feel the painful shock from Kurama. Even without using his Jagan, he’d be able to feel it. The words hit Kurama like a vicious slap.

No, the thought came to Hiei unbidden, he never forgot you. After all, he left me for your memory… bitter. The thought was as bitter as the feeling and he stepped back, away, both body and mind leaving that thought behind.

Why are you here, Hiei?

“Youko has not; he sent me to search for you,” Kurama’s voice was small, like a child’s. Hiei wanted to go to him, push Kuronue away, make him gone again. He also wanted Kurama to suffer, to suffocate himself in his own lie.

“Youko-sama,” Kuronue growled, an instant reprimand. Hiei smothered a reprimand of his own. He could not be anything but uninvolved in this, for now; an inconsequential decoration of the setting who just so happened to have a knife at the ready should Kuronue decide he didn’t like talking to this human after all.

Once more, silence. They continued to stare each other down: Kuronue disbelieving, Kurama – apparently – still in shock. He was milk-white, and Hiei could see the soft blue lines of blood veins under his skin. He’d never seen such a thing before on Kurama. It was strange.

A rush of heat let Hiei know that Kuronue’s eyes were on him now. Don’t look at me, you dead bastard. Don’t look at me, don’t speak to me…

“Is what this human tells me true?” Kuronue asked. Kurama winced at the venomous hate in Kuronue’s voice. Hiei did not look at either of them. He focused on the wall, the cat, anything.

“It is,” Hiei answered, as if his mouth had forced him to speak. Why are you encouraging this?!

Kuronue sneered at him, but stepped away.

“So where is he, then? Still loath to come see me now, after all this time?” his voice was bitter, sharp. Hateful.

For one traitorous moment, Hiei almost felt sorry for the both of them.

“I don’t know,” Kurama said very softly. His eyes were closed and he was pressed against the wall as if he was trying to become a part of it.

Kuronue continued to glare at both of them. “He was here recently. I can smell him.”

“He’s been gone since yesterday,” Kurama murmured. Technically, it wasn’t even a lie. Neither he nor Hiei knew where Tadashi had taken the kitsune-bi and Kurama’s youki with it. “I don’t know when he will return-"

“Bastard,” Kuronue hissed, startling Kurama again into silence. “What now, then? Am I to sit and wait for him to come and call?” He continued to glare at Kurama, but the question was directed at Hiei.

“Do what you like. The only task I know of was to get you released from your prison,” Hiei snapped back. Kuronue snorted, Kurama made no addition to this comment.

Hiei felt the very rational urge to stab something.

Another long silence settled over the room as Kuronue looked between him, his eyes cold and reflecting nothing of a mind which – in Hiei’s reckoning – must surely have gone completely mad during those decades of dark solitary confinement.

“I am going to go kill my brother,” Kuronue remarked, his voice taking on an almost wistful tone. “And then I will return to speak to Youko. I may kill him as well.”

He turned then, glancing about the apartment and catching sight of the tall window-doors with the balcony reaching out over the city. He strode to them purposefully, wings unfurling on his back. He threw the glass door open, letting in a hot blast of damp air, and stood out on the balcony, looking down for a moment before jumping, his wings flailing for just a moment before carrying him high, high into the sky. Hiei followed as far as the window, watching him turn to nothing but a ragged speck in the distance.

I hope he gets sucked into a jet turbine, he thought viciously. He closed the door and turned to face Kurama, who was still curled up against the wall. Misa, in her catlike wisdom, had made herself mostly scarce during the conversation, but was now meowing worriedly and rubbing against Kurama, as if to give him help, or courage.

Hiei watched him not respond for a short time before he left the windows. He walked to Kurama, pausing to grab the cell phone of the table, and sat next to him.

He was entirely too gratified when Kurama leaned against him, resting his head on his shoulder.

Yukina loved Kuwabara very much. However, she hated his ringtone. At least, when it was one of Megallica’s more psychotic songs dinging from the tiny, tinny speakers at five in the morning, from the living room, and not nearly loud enough to wake up a man who would have slept through the apocalypse if his friends hadn’t forced him out of bed.

She really did love him, though. Just not his phone.

She sighed, pushing herself out of her comfortable bed and padding into the hallway that separated their rooms, sending a slightly miffed look at his door, which was half open, showing that he was indeed home and dead asleep. The phone continued to insist her attention.

She reached the offending device, not bothering to look at the number display.

“Kazuma’s phone,” she sighed, still tired, “Yukina speaking.” There was a pause on the other end, punctuated by an intake of breath.

“…Hello?” she said, confused, tired, it is far too early for telephone pranks…

“Yukina,” Hiei’s voice said to her on the other end. He sounded… relieved.

“Hiei, I didn’t know you had a cell phone,” she blurted. There was a pause, and a sound like maybe he could have been laughing, if that was something Hiei did. It filled her with an unexpected happiness.

“I don’t, I’m using Kurama’s phone. He’s…” another pause “been hurt. He needs a healer.”

That was enough to shake Yukina out of both her exhaustion and the little euphoria, and she stood up a little straighter, now intent on business.

“What happened?” She asked, glancing back at Kuwabara's door. He was still snoring away.

“I do not think it is wise to discuss over the phone,” he said, and his voice faded in an out for just a moment.

“I understand. Are you at Kurama’s apartment?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll be there in half an hour,” she said, already turning back to her room to dress.

“Thank you,” he said. And then he was gone.

Yukina smiled at the cell phone and dropped it on an accent table in the hallway, disappearing into her room to change out of her pajamas. When she emerged again, Shizuru was standing in the kitchen with two mugs of coffee. I didn’t even know she was awake, Yukina thought, startled.

“Shizuru, I’m sorry if I woke you…”

“You didn’t,” Shizuru sighed, handing her a mug. “That damn phone did. What’s wrong?”

“Hiei called.”

Shizuru lifted an eyebrow at that, but made no comment.

“He says he is with Kurama, and that Kurama has been hurt. I’m going to his apartment now to see what I can do.” Yukina stared into her mug for a moment, seeming very unsure.

Shizuru took a sip of coffee, grimaced, and set the mug down. “Gimme five minutes and I’ll drive you. The trains are hell this early in the day.”

Kurama was still pale and in apparent shock, but he was reacting now, if only slightly. Yukina gently talked him through the process of setting his wrist, explained each step she took to heal him.

Shizuru, impartial and stoic as she ever was, sat with one hand leaning over the back of her chair and the other firmly guarding a cigarette. She, unlike her brother, was uninterested in dramatics or hysterics. There had been a moment when Hiei imagined that she would have liked to start yelling when she saw the state Kurama had put himself in, but had dismissed the urge. Instead she gave Hiei a piercing look, pulled a cigarette out of her pocket, and said simply; "I forgot my lighter."

He obliged, and lit it for her.

Now they sat together, watching Kurama shake and Yukina try to calm him. Already Yukina had taken charge, directing Hiei and Shizuru to find blankets, put on tea, and keep quiet while she set Kurama’s bones back in their proper place. All was quiet afterwards, but for one loud, wet pop when she put Kurama’s shoulder back into well working order. Hiei was impressed; neither Yukina nor Shizuru had flinched.

Another noise from Yukina and Kurama's end of the room, this time of bandages being ripped from a roll. She came prepared, Hiei thought, feeling a great swell of affection and pride. Wasn't it only a few years ago that she feared being a healer, that she only used her power when the situation was desperate? She had never thought to use bandages or antiseptic or to learn to set a bone back then. Had she grown up so well and quickly?

Shizuru quietly interrupted his train of thought. The hand that had been dangling now held her cell phone; popped open as if she were reading the thing. It made a small noise, and she snapped it shut.

"That was a text from Kazuma," she informed the room. "He's getting Urameshi and they'll be here soonish." She cast a glance to Hiei, and said under her breath, "You may want to get while the getting's good... Kazu's in one of those moods."

Hiei knew what she meant. One of those loud moods. "You still don't know what happened," he pointed out, "and he is in no state to tell you."

Shizuru shrugged, but acquiesced. She took a long drag of her cigarette.

Yukina turned momentarily from her work to look at him. Her expression was frighteningly unreadable. "Kurama-san has been through something very terrible," she started, glancing at her patient, who was still far enough gone that he probably didn't hear her. "If you know what happened, it would be better to tell soon so I can start to fix the problems that go along with it."

A pause, long and still, and Hiei turned his gaze from Yukina to Kurama. No help there - he was gone for now. Since Kuronue had left he'd said little to nothing, and even when he did speak he was almost completely monosyllabic.

Hiei sighed. "It is a long story; I don't want to have to repeat myself," he muttered. Yukina nodded and turned back to Kurama.

Shizuru spoke then. "Those two idiots should be here any minute... just wait 'til they get here and give us the whole story. Til then," she stood, sighed, and stretched, stubbing out her cigarette and wandering over to the kitchen, "I'm making food. Either eat what I make or don't bitch, I'm not a short-order cook."

"So he's gone to wonderland?" Yuusuke said, kneeling in front of Kurama and trying to get him to respond. He succeeded, if a half-hearted wave of the hand and looking away was what a response from Kurama should have been.

"He's in shock, you ass," Shizuru muttered. She had lit another cigarette and was now sitting on the balcony, leaning over the rail to watch the city below. Her attempt at breakfast had been thwarted, due to Kurama having bare cupboards but for some dry cat food. "Haven't you seen someone in shock before?"

"That's a stupid question, I see Kuwabara almost every da-"

"You shut your mouth, Urameshi!"

"Make me, assho-"

Hiei pounded his fist on the table, effectively cutting them off. Yukina flinched, and gave them all her version of a glare.

"You two aren't really helping this along," she said, though her voice was about as severe as a baby rabbit. "Please don't fight..."

Kuwabara began to apologize profusely, blubbering for a moment before Yuusuke smacked him to make him stop. "Sorry, Yukina. So, what happens now? Wait 'til he snaps out of it?" Yuusuke flopped down at the table, swinging his feet out in front of him in an unruly sprawl.

“He’ll be okay… he’s not actually in shock, just… unresponsive,” she laid a hand on Kurama’s shoulder, and he spared her a brief glance before turning back in on himself. She sighed, and shrugged at the room at large. “A little sleep and he should be right as rain.”

"I can stay with him," Kuwabara said after a moment. "I can call in a couple of favors and get someone to cover for me at work." He looked at Yuusuke, who shrugged.

"Better you'n me. I can't call off, and he's probably still pissed at me," he glanced at Kurama to see if he'd heard, or even registered that remark, but there was no response. "I gotta go soon anyway. Hiei? Shizuru?"

"I'll be here," Hiei muttered, though he was not entirely thrilled about spending time around Kuwabara. Shizuru nodded mutely and took a lungful of smoke, exhaling slowly.

"I'll stay, but if this Kuronue character shows up again, I can't promise I won't put his eye out with something." Weak laughter filled the room for a moment, and then died again. She glared around at everyone. "I'm fucking serious," she snarled, stabbing out the cigarette and standing. "One of you come with me, I'm going to go find some food."

No one made a move for a moment, and Hiei - rather than stay and watch Kuwabara stare with moon-calf eyes at Yukina - stood to join Shizuru. Kuwabara looked like he wanted to say something, but stopped himself before whatever thought he had got loose, and hunched his shoulders, shuffling his feet so he could stand closer to Yukina. Hiei lifted an eyebrow at him, thinking she doesn't need you to take care of her. She was more than capable of taking care of herself.

Once they left, far down the hall and waiting for the elevator, Shizuru gave him a look.

"You never did mention how you knew Kurama was in trouble," she said conversationally.

Hiei grunted and hunched his shoulders. "That's irrelevant," he grumbled, stabbing the elevator button with his finger, as if the action would make the contraption move at a more acceptable speed.

"Seems pretty relevant to me," she murmured, but let it go. He imagined she would ask again later.

Kuwabara had managed to convince Kurama that it was wise to lay down now, sleep until food came. He stood with his back to Kurama's bedroom door and stared out into the apartment, catching Yuusuke's eyes, then Yukina.

"He doesn't even know where he is right now, does he?" he sighed, slumping down at the table.

Yukina shook her head, Yuusuke shrugged. "You know he'll be fine, he ain't exactly easy to keep down after the first hit."

"Aw, fuck you, Urameshi. Just 'cause he hasn't gotten killed in front of you doesn't make him invincible. What're we going to do if Kuronue does come back?"

"What do you mean? Kick his ass if he goes after Kurama, 'f course. Fucking stupid..."

"He doesn't know Kurama is Kurama, you idiot! Did you miss that part?"

"Well, then we don't have shit to worry about," Yuusuke shrugged, tipping his chair back and putting his arms behind his head. "He ain't gonna come back if there's nothing interesting to come back to."

"That is a good point," Yukina added. She had finished putting away the few supplies she had brought with her. "Kurama-san should be all right. I suppose Kuronue-san wouldn't want to come back since there was no information here."

"He said he would come back," Kuwabara countered. "What if he decides to just up and kill Kurama because he doesn't have any info? As it stands, Kurama and Hiei are really the only links he has to any information."

Yukina shrugged her shoulders, and Yuusuke thumped the chair back onto all four legs, giving Kuwabara a piercing look. "When the hell did you get so smart, Kuwabara?" He asked after a minute.

Yukina sighed exasperatedly, punctuating Kuwabara's return glare. "This is a big old joke to you, isn't it?" Kuwabara sat back and crossed his arms. "Get serious, Urameshi! He could be in serious danger!"

"When isn't he?" Yuusuke threw out his arms, gesturing at the room at large, "When are any of us not in some kind of life-threatening peril? Fuck, I'd be shocked if he wasn't about to have someone try to kill him any day of the week. People hate his ass. He can handle it, he's used to this shit."

"Yeah, he's used to it when it won't fucking kill him," Kuwabara growled, stabbing an accusing finger in Yuusuke's face. "This isn't some fucking temporary drain, stupid. He's human. If a single one of his enemies finds out about this, he's as good as buried."

Yuusuke's face twisted up into a grimace. He chewed the inside of his cheek, looked away, and shrugged.

"Okay, I can't argue with that shit. But I still think we shouldn't worry about Kuronue. He's off fucking his brother or whatever..."

Yukina interrupted him by making a disgusted noise, and Yuusuke hunched his shoulders, ducking his head. "Sorry, Yukina. Anyway, he'll be occupied for a while. Then we can figure this out. Anyway..." he stood, glanced at the clock in the kitchen, and kicked his chair back under the table. "I gotta blow, work starts in an hour. Call me if shit starts happening."

"Yeah, whatever," Kuwabara sighed. He didn't stop him from going; it wasn't as if there was anything he - or anyone - could do at this point but wait. He looked to Yukina to see if she had any comment or advice, but she seemed more interested in the cat, who had decided her lap was the happening place to be.

He shrugged his shoulders and hunkered down at the table, waiting for his sister - and Hiei - to return.

A thunderhead the size of China was lingering on the horizon. Kurama could see it from his bedroom window, and imagined that the sky was telling the city to brace itself. Find shelter, that little sneeze last night was nothing. There was blood on the wind.

Kurama was not in shock. Not in shock any more was rather more accurate. Five minutes in the same room with Kuronue and Hiei had broken him apart, yes, but he was better now. Better and thinking.

"Tell them I'm in shock or something," he'd said to Hiei, dropping himself into a chair. "I need to think." Hiei, thankfully, had not argued. So he sat through Yukina's care, Kuwabara's worry, Yuusuke's inane observations, and thought. He thought of how long it would take for his human body to start going into withdrawal from the lack of youki to sustain it. He thought about how many hits from a fairly accomplished fighter it would take for him to go down and stay down. He'd never had to consider the possibility of dying permanently before. As a demon, there was always a way out. Even trapped in his human body, some part of his spirit would have been able to escape the ultimate end. Now there was an endless list of possibilities to consider.

If nothing else, he still had resources. The contacts he had in Makai were more solid now than they had been before he'd fled to the human world, so he wasn't at a loss for money, weapons, or information. Well, certain weapons and certain information. He didn't hold with spies; usually he'd go out and get the information he needed himself. He distrusted Yomi's spymaster, because there was no doubt the spymaster would report any findings to Yomi as well as Kurama. Yuusuke didn't have spymasters, and it would be less than wise for Kurama to ask Mukuro and make himself beholden to her in any way.

He sat on the edge of his bed, with his fists underneath his chin and his elbows on his knees and stared at the wall. He assumed that whatever Tadashi needed his kitsune-bi for would bring some kind of misfortune. On what scale, he had no idea... he couldn't imagine what a crow could do with a fox's power source. Sōjōbō had kept the fragment of the kitsune-bi mostly out of spite, or because the old crow imagined (correctly) that Kurama would be weaker without it. Did Tadashi just want him dead? Or was there some underlying plan, some scheme?

Kurama sighed and propelled himself backwards to lay spread-eagle on his bed. From the living room he could hear the vague noises of conversation. Yuusuke had left after Kuwabara had taken Kurama to his room, so that left Shizuru, Yukina, Kuwabara, and Hiei. He could hear Kuwabara and Hiei faintly. They were talking about baseball, which had become the default topic for them whenever they were forced to be in the same room for too long a time. After the first few years of constant insults, it had gotten old even for them, so they found a new topic. Figured it would be sports, though baseball seemed like a vanilla subject for Hiei, but the longer he thought about it, the more sense it made. Really, how many ways could a homeless demon find to entertain himself that didn't involve killing, stealing, or setting fire to things?

There was a knock at his door. Briefly, he thought of ignoring it. The knocker didn't give him a chance to, and the door swung open, revealing Shizuru holding a tray of food.

"You are going to eat, you are not going to argue with me, and I'm going to stay here until every scrap is gone," she stated. She swept into the room and set the tray on the bedside table - it was laden with a bowl of miso, some sweet bread, and tea. Then she turned and put her hands on her hips. "Well?"

"Did I argue?" he asked, rolling over to sit up. She watched him closely, and then sat herself in the chair opposite his bed. He picked up the bowl of miso, made to take a bite, but paused, glancing up at Shizuru. "Are you going to stare at me the entire time I eat?"

"Yes," she said shortly, crossing her arms. Stubborn. Just like her brother, he supposed. He shrugged and began to shovel food into his mouth, doing very well at ignoring her until he was mostly finished. He set down his bowl, took a swig of tea, and gave her a look that clearly indicated he was neither amused by her attention not particularly grateful to her making sure he got all his food down. She stared back, daring him to make a comment. They continue the stare down for a few moments until Shizuru leaned forward, her eyes going from challenging to serious.

"I'm going to level with you here, fox-man," she said, folding her hands over her knees. "I don't know you all that well. I reckon that if it wasn't for Urameshi and his violent love affair with speeding cars we could have gone our whole lives without meeting each other." Kurama stifled a small laugh at that, and Shizuru flashed a smile before continuing. "My brother's shitting himself over how worried he is about you, you know. Well, him and Hiei, but Hiei isn't my responsibility, so I can't really speak for him."

"Kazuma isn't necessarily your responsibility, either," Kurama pointed out. He took the remainder of his sweetbread and started breaking it into tiny pieces.

"He's my brother. I worry."

"You're worried that whatever happened to me will cause unsavory backlash for him," he stated, tossing the bread pieces into the empty miso bowl.

"Yes."

"I don't plan on involving him in my issues here. I can try to dissuade him from involving himself but... he's stubborn." Like you, Shizuru. She didn't seem too pleased by that excuse.

"I'd hoped," she murmured, pulling a battered pack of cigarettes from her pocket, "that all this 'Spirit Detective' craziness would be over now. Isn't that what you have your rulers for over there? To keep things like this from happening?" She groped in her other pockets for a lighter, remembered she'd forgotten it, and shoved the cigarettes away again.

"You know that's not the case." As much as anyone wished it was, Enki's power over a large population of S-Class demons was tenuous at best. The smartest of them had
stayed out of Yuusuke's tournament, knowing that it was easier to sneak around behind the winner's back than to risk having to rule over a clutch of re-integrationists. There were still boundary wars, still pockets of malcontents, and a staggering number of very powerful, very dangerous demons quickly and secretly coming into power in both worlds. Reikai had no idea; they knew that Enki had the throne and barrier was gone. They could wipe their hands of responsibility beyond shuttling the dead to the afterlife. Now that they didn't have to orchestrate wars themselves, it made Reikai's job that much easier, and living as a demon or a human that much more dangerous.

A quiet took the room.

Kurama knew that Shizuru wouldn't leave him in peace until he gave her a satisfactory answer. His issue was that he didn't have any of those in stock right now. He looked at her, she at him, and finally, Shizuru stood, grabbed the tray, and nodded to him. "For their sake," she said, turning to the door, "try not to get into too much trouble."

He couldn't promise anything, so he stayed silent as she left him alone. He waited for a while, listening to the soft conversations from the front room, and turned back to his thoughts, planning.

The wind.

Oh god, he had forgotten the feel of the wind.

Kuronue soared, high above a city he did not know - higher than human eyes could clearly see or air vehicles could fly, breathing in light and air and cold for the first time in decades. His heart - or what passed for a heart for demons - thrummed with joy, his blood sang; his wings ached from disuse. But he was flying. From this high, he could see lightning sparking across the spine of the storm creeping its way closer to the city. It was fierce; welcoming. Almost familiar even, fueled with energy that he didn't know, but he recognized, even distantly.

He forgot his brother and went to it, arcing with the lightning between the clouds, crying out with joy and deep, horrible sorrow for the years he had spent in that horrid dark hole, feeling the storm spin itself into a darker fury. The storm cradled him, and filled him with power he had not tasted in decades. He felt the first misting of power sink into his skin, and the thrum of life - real life, not that hollow form of "living" he had felt for so long - in his demon's heart.

He was far from home, and far, he knew, from any allies he had ever known, and his brother would be out for blood once it was discovered that he had escaped. With help, the charitable part of him remembered, though it had been ground down to almost nothing. That fire demon and the human, they helped. And, that human...
The human knew where Youko hid, or could at least point him in the right direction. So, perhaps he wasn't starting quite as alone as he thought. He would keep the human in mind. But for now... it was time to find his brother.

He folded his wings close to his body and dove, down through the heart of the storm. He dodged lightning and pockets of searing heat, emerging from the bottom of the clouds, and slowly opened his wings again, leveling himself out. He was higher still than any bird could fly, high enough to see how far the city sprawled beneath him. Is this what had become of Edo? He knew the mountains, and saw where the ocean lay, but where had all the forests gone? In only a few years, so much had been cleared away by human hands, destroyed and never to be regained. Had Kyoto fared the same? And what about further south? A glance in either direction gave him a line of city, the soft green of captured trees breaking the monotony of glass and cement in short bursts of color.

Utterly heartbreaking. But then, the human world was no longer his concern. Makai was his home, like every other demon. It had just been easier for Tadashi to imprison him here. A hot gust of wind pushed him up towards the clouds again, and he soared with it for a time. Then he dove again, down towards the tall buildings. He went quickly, sure as anything that there was at least one human down there that would look up at just the right time to catch a glimpse of him. He landed atop one of the buildings, bare feet hitting unfamiliar concrete. It was a strange, if welcome, change from the cold metal floors of his former prison.

"What now?" he murmured, casting his gaze down to the streets. There were more humans here than he'd ever seen. They thronged here, a great multitude of them. There was no chance of slipping through the city unseen; there were far too many eyes. Even after the boost the growing storm had given him, he was still too weak to transform himself into a crow or dog. Without the ability to move among them, he was that much more at a disadvantage, and struck even attempting to find Tadashi in this massive mess. His only option for right now was to ask for help.

Thankfully, as well as humans, the city had a gigantic population of crows. He called to one, perched on a roof not too far from the one he now inhabited, and it came eagerly to his hand. He stroked its glossy feathers and whispered to it, asking first its allegiance (it would not do to ask help of one of his brother's crows) and then asking its help. He instructed it to go back to its murder and gather them all here, then sent it on its noisy way, watching it glide expertly through webs of power lines and over the heads of oblivious humans.

He watched the city as he waited. The humans held little devices with them wherever they went, talking into them, reading them, pressing the buttons. In every storefront and on every street there were motion picture displays. He remembered the one time he'd managed to convince Youko to sneak with him into the human world before he'd been imprisoned - they'd gone to a motion picture theater, and even then they had been fascinating. Now they were everywhere. Along those were countless massive-sized photographs, and illustrations that looked nothing like the artwork he remembered from those decades ago. Even the automobiles had advanced to the point where they resembled the transportation devices some richer demons used in Makai.

The crow returned finally, followed by its murder. They totaled fifty in number, all crowding in to get a look at their "tall brother." He introduced himself to each of them, learning their names, their calls, and their eyes. "Find other tall brothers," he told them. "Find one who looks like me, but whose eyes are wrapped in ice. Find him and tell me where he is." Then he lifted his arms and they sprang into flight as one, a great black bird breaking into millions of parts and scattering into the wind.

Kuronue watched them until even his eyes couldn't distinguish their color from the sky. Now, to wait. There was little else he could do.

Hiei lifted the hem of his headband for a moment, focusing the Jagan on the door of Kurama's room. The fox had stopped pacing, laid on his bed, and, if his energy was any indication, was dead asleep. Hiei doubted anything would wake him for a good while, so he closed the book he'd been reading and set it on the table beside the chair he'd commandeered. Kuwabara looked up from the couch, where he was listlessly flipping channels. Shizuru and Yukina had left to go get food - not without a few despairing comments about how all bachelors lived the same, no matter who they were (Hiei guessed that they meant "without food," since Kurama's kitchen was terribly bare) - leaving Hiei and Kuwabara to sit out their uneasy truce.

"Hey, take a look at this," Kuwabara said. He'd stopped his channel-surfing on a local news station, where a wind-battered anchorman was shouting above a stiff wind.

"...the storm seems to have taken a turn for the worst, and meteorologists are predicting typhoon conditions. Coastal residents are advised to move inland or..." Kuwabara hit the mute button, and gave Hiei a look.

"Think we can see it from here?" He asked, giving a pointed glance at Hiei's headband, and Hiei took the hint and lifted the hem again. The storm was close, though the wind hadn't reached them yet.

"From the balcony," he murmured, going to the sliding doors. The air was still when he opened them, but he could see the wind kicking up closer to the coast easily. Kuwabara came up behind him, leaning against the railing and letting out a low, impressed whistle.

"God damn, I thought last night was bad. There's youki on that wind, can you see it?"

"Yes." Hiei's eyes narrowed and he squinted at the clouds. The youki was... disturbingly familiar. He glanced back to Kurama's room a moment, then again to the storm. "It wasn't like that earlier." An uneasy moment of silence, and the wind finally began to creep over the building, still a soft breath of air.

"Seriously, do you feel that? It feels like-

"-You should call your sister, tell them to come back quickly." Hiei interrupted. He turned back into the apartment, settling his Jagan again on Kurama's door. Still asleep, and likely to stay so. He turned again to the balcony. Kuwabara stood in the doorway, cell phone to his ear, and an uneasy look passed over his face.

"Voice mail," he muttered, clicking the phone shut. "They should be back soon, though. Shizu's good at staying safe when there's trouble." A crack of thunder punctuated him and they both jumped. Kuwabara turned to look out at the storm again, and Hiei followed, lingering in the doorway. He hesitated for a second and took off his headband, making the eye search for Yukina and Shizuru's energy signatures. He found them after a panicked moment of nothing but low-level youki and uninteresting humans, packed in a line at a grocery store not too far away. A bolt of lightning cut across the sky followed by a boom loud enough to rattle the windows. Hiei glanced again to Kurama's room - not an inch had the fox stirred - and turned back in to the apartment to grab his cloak.

"It's too close for my liking, I'm going to walk back with them," he informed Kuwabara. "Stay here, open Kurama's door if you have to, but keep an eye on him."

Kuwabara looked for a moment like he wanted to protest, but shrugged his shoulders, and made a gesture to the door. "If you say so," he grumbled. He figured it was best not to argue with Hiei these days, because that usually ended in Hiei disappearing, and Yukina inexplicably becoming a touch depressed. Hiei nodded once and vanished, seeming to go with a third crack of lightning that made Kuwabara's skin crawl. Alone in the apartment (but for Kurama, who was presumably still dead to the world, and the cat, who was hiding under the couch) he looked around suspiciously, as if he half-expected an attack to come at any moment.

Satisfied for now that the place was safe, he crept down the short hallway to Kurama's bedroom and propped open the door. He could hear soft breathing over the quickly building wind, and was assured that, at least, all was well for now.

"I thought we were going to wait," Tadashi murmured, just loud enough to be picked up by the speakerphone on the table next to him. His faceless partner's voice filtered through the machine, a soft laugh.

"Kuronue making himself known so quickly and so recklessly was unexpected. That storm is very powerful, and therefore he will be too. I'm sure you felt how much of it he took?"

Tadashi grimaced. Youko's kitsune-bi was still cradled in his hands, radiating a soft, pulsing light. It flared brightly whenever lightning struck, making his eyes and hands burn. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to put it down. Just having his hands on so much power...

"Tadashi, I appreciate your focus," his partner reminded him, voice sweet and gentle as always. Tadashi snapped to attention. How it could tell his mind was straying, without being in the room made his skin crawl.

"I am focused," he muttered, earning another soft chuckle. His irritation and unease faded. Yes, his shadowy partner was frightening, but also so... what was it? Comforting? Yes, perhaps that. "Guide me."

"Bring the storm further inland, south by just a few degrees. That should wake them up a little."

"You know where Kuronue and Youko are?" Even with all his resources, Tadashi had never been able to accurately pinpoint Youko's location just his alias and that he lived somewhere in Roppongi. Finding the fox's phone number had been a gift, and his informant had been rewarded more than handsomely.

"I know where Kuronue is. I suspect Kurama is not too far away. Your brother means to kill you, you know. He searches for you now." The voice had grown soft; sad. "I do wish it did not have to be this way. Perhaps, if we could make him see reason..."

"Please," Tadashi murmured, focusing on the kitsune-bi again. "Please, I need to concentrate." He did not want to think of killing Kuronue. If only Kuro had known how much good he had done, even in that torturous imprisonment... it had been necessary. Without that, they never would have gotten so far. But, Kuronue hated him, and would doubtlessly hinder the project rather than help it. It could not be avoided. Tadashi pushed that sad thought away and pulled the storm in, making the currents of wind spin themselves harder, making up for the energy lost from Kuronue's interference. The kitsune-bi amplified his youki, giving him a straight channel to the elements, the way he would have gone if he had been a Storm Lord, as he should have been. Another mark against Youko... it was his fault Tadashi's inheritance had been lost. As if knowing his thoughts strayed to its master, the kitsune-bi shuddered in his hands, glowing white-hot. It would've burned through human flesh like a tiny sun.

The storm growled. Tadashi paused, and wiped a tear of pain away.

"Please, just hear me out!" Kuronue shouted. He was dangling once again by his legs, his arms and wings trussed up so as to be useless. Youko stood in front of him, arms crossed, eyes narrowed to slits. He hadn't said a word since Kuronue had... well, spilled his metaphorical guts about an hour earlier. Just stood and stared with a disappointed look on his face. The look itself was almost painful to Kuronue. It wasn't just disappointment in his eyes... but also betrayal. Kuronue had tried to explain himself, but his voice had died in his throat before he could get farther than the first syllable.

"Y-Youko, come on, let me down. You didn't let me finish what I was going to sa-"

"I'll give you from the time I let you down to the time the sun touches the peak at Fushimi Inari. If you aren't gone by then, I will kill you." The vines holding Kuronue loosened instantly, and he landed on his face on the hard floor of the veranda. Youko turned his back and disappeared into the house, closing the door firmly behind him.

"Shit," Kuronue sighed, picking himself up. "Youko! Come on, let me explain what I-" he was cut off again, this time almost literally, by a barrage of thorns crossing itself over Youko's door. Damn.

It was spring, one of those soft mornings after a long winter that Kuronue always looked forward to. In the valley, the cherry trees were days away from blooming, but up in the mountain they were already beginning to shed their blossoms. Months of training had led up to this day, when Youko planned to bring him on their first cooperative heist. It would have been simple, crossing over into Makai and robbing a specific noble's treasury of a particular bit of precious treasure.

They'd planned and trained for it down to the last detail, figuring out countless contingency plans. Youko was nothing if not very careful. Kuronue had felt confident, assured not only by Youko's apparent trust in him, but that Youko had actually gone so far as to praise him during their last training session. Not that he had let his confidence show, or said anything but a mumbled thank you to Youko for it. It had taken him a while, but he'd learned, painfully, not to let Youko think he was about anything but strict business.

He wanted Youko to trust him, so he had told the truth. Youko had not taken it well at all.

Kuronue theorized that Youko suspected he was a member of Sōjōbō's house. The son of some servant or another, probably a home assassin. Kuronue had let him believe this as it was the best explanation as to why he'd been spying on the fox and his father that first night months ago, and was content in keeping his heritage a relative secret, at first. For one thing, there was no reason to tell Youko and cause even more unrest between them than already existed. For another, Kuronue's wildly active (and not altogether inaccurate) imagination had supplied a number of creative and horrifying punishments that would await him if Youko knew that he was Sōjōbō's direct relative.

But then again... That trust thing. It irked him. He knew he wasn't lying, not directly, but he wasn't being honest with Youko. Something about that, more than anything else, got under his skin and wouldn't leave him alone. So he woke up early that morning (the first that they would not be training until the heist was over) and waited for Youko on the veranda, watching the sunrise. When the fox had emerged from his room, still bleary-eyed from sleep, Kuronue had thought up a brilliant speech that would convince Youko to not kill him and hopefully let him stay on as an apprentice. Or at the very least crawl away without too much damage.

He opened his mouth to say good morning, but Youko beat him to it, still under the fading spell of sleep, and smiled at him. "Are you ready for later?"

It wasn't so much the question that stopped Youko in his tracks as the fact that Youko was smiling. Not that cat-like crafty smile he got when he was going to do something particularly nasty, or even that doped-up confused smile he'd had back when they first officially met. No, this was one of those voluntary, 'I'm smiling because it's a good day' type of smiles. Maybe even an 'I'm smiling because I'm glad to see you' smile, though that was probably asking a little too much. Kuronue's answer of "As ready as I can be" turned into

"I'm Sōjōbō's son... Fuck!"He clapped his hands over his mouth, appalled that he'd said anything. Youko woke up instantly, his smile vanishing into confusion. Then anger. No, not anger. Fury.

"What?" Youko's eyes narrowed with that word, as if his whole face was emphasizing it. He'd been running a hand through his hair, probably just to push it out of his eyes. Oh, the thousand deadly things Kuronue imagined Youko was reaching for now.

"I'm... I'm... I'm... Sōjōbō's son?" Kuronue held up his arms over his face. "I'm sorry! I wanted to not fuck up telling you this, I'm his son but I GNRF-" and he was upside down, swinging from side to side. Youko had kept him like that for an hour, fury turning into anger, anger into... disappointment. Kuronue had a feeling that he'd rather be dead than see that look on Youko's face again. Now, barred by thorns and who knew what else, he glanced over to Fushimi Inari, far in the distance. Youko was giving him almost the whole day to leave. At least he was being generous.

Kuronue shuffled his feet. Aside from some spare clothes, he kept nothing with him. Youko had his piece of the gem, and technically their agreement had been fulfilled. There was nothing to do now really but... leave.

"Youko?" He called out again, stepping as close to the door as he dared. From within, he heard nothing. If he hadn't known Youko was in there already, he would've sworn the house was empty for the silence. "I'm sorry," he finished, hoping Youko had heard. Then he turned, opened his wings, and flew home.

"Thank all the Gods!" Akira embraced him again, and Tadashi stood a little farther away, a relieved smile on his face. Kuronue was thanking the Gods too... he wouldn't have known what to do with himself if he'd met his parents first. It had been dumb luck that his brothers were out in the main courtyard together. They had been shocked when he landed between them in the middle of a spar, but had instantly recovered, Akira reaching him first and nearly smothering him with hugs. "Where have you been?"

Kuronue looked between them. He didn't dare tell them the truth (and wasn't that a turnaround, when you wanted to be more honest with a crook than your own family?) though a mean part of him wanted to. Maybe even spin the tale to make himself a hero, that he'd been secretly spying on Youko for them all along. The very thought of that made him feel sick.

"That gem that Youko Kurama stole from father... I was looking for it. I... managed to sneak around Youko's territory some, but had to stay hidden. It wasn't there, though, so I had to see if he had any other strongholds here or in Makai." A plausible lie and he didn't look like a coward or a traitor for it. Akira laughed.

"That old thing! Oh, four months searching for it, father will be pleased, even if you didn't find it. Your timing couldn't be better, though, especially considering you know some of Youko's territory now!" He clapped Kuronue on the back, grinning between him and Tadashi. Kuronue felt an uneasy sort of dread.

"Why's that?" He asked, looking more to Tadashi than overexcited Akira. Tadashi's smile widened.

"We are going to march against Youko. Tonight."

"What?!" Kuronue didn't mean to sound as shocked and appalled as he was. Tadashi lifted an eyebrow, but Akira didn't notice, hugging Kuronue around the shoulders, still grinning.

"You heard him, little brother! Tonight, we go to war!"