Immortal: Interference, Timing

It was raining.

Not that rain was anything

new.

Rain in Makai was common, often coupled with the thunderstorms headed by old Gods banished to Makai after humans had stopped believing in them, filled with rage and darkness and the power to strip the skin from a demon's bones.

No, rain was not uncommon. Not in most parts of Makai. But, the nature and location of

this

rain was new and unsettling.

It was a soft rain, a gentle soaking of the ground that turned the nearly desert landscape to a hazy veil. Tiny plants, dry and brown from the lack of rain in the area, had grown green and lush. The ground that had been cracked and brown was now growing a green carpet.

Observing all this from the cabin window, Mukuro stood with arms crossed and her one good eye narrowed to match her scowl. She didn't like this... softness in the area. The deserted plains were harsh lands, extending out to actual wasteland after this last beach of life-bearing soil. As much as you could call the bare scrub and desert grass life, anyway. It was her favorite part of Makai, barren and safe, close enough to civilization without being compromised, but enough out in the wasteland that it provided much needed privacy. If all else failed, the crawling fortress could even burrow into the sand deeper into the desert. All in all, a perfect hideout.

But now, the rain was ruining that, bringing life to the deadlands with steady stubbornness. What was worse, she knew who was behind it.

Tension had built in her shoulders, and she sighed, forcing herself to relax. There was no use being angry at the fox; he was probably in the Makai, letting off steam. Everyone had to, once in a while, but it was irritating when such a powerful demon turned his attention to creation rather than destruction.

Or, she thought ruefully, Creative destruction. The fox was destroying the desert by making it a marsh. Just like him, of course.

Perhaps that was why Hiei had left so abruptly, leaving his sword (a rather touching indicator that he would return) and a promise to reappear at first summons. Mukuro hadn't taken him up on that, yet, but she was becoming tempted. If she called him back, she'd know just why Yomi's stupid plaything was ruining her favorite 'vacation spot' on a whim, and why she was still the tiniest bit unsure as to whether it really was Youko guiding the storm. The last she knew, foxes had no control over the weather, and the fox had made a vow not to return to Makai unless war was imminent.

If that was the case, at least she'd have something interesting to look forward to. However, she doubted it. Yomi was far too preoccupied with being a 'good father' for Shura, which meant long training expeditions between Yomi's private visits to Ningenkai to fuck Kurama or whatever nonsense they got up to. Even the little games her spies had been playing with his had gotten so dull the spymasters on each side had taken up going out to drinks together for lack of anything else to do. War would be a sweet relief from the softness Makai was starting to have seep in at its edges. Even Hiei was turning into a sentimental fool, running off to Ningenkai every few weeks ago to check on his sister, or Kurama, or (of all stupid, pointless things) watch a baseball game.

Hiei's weirdness she blamed on that stupid human game and the fox. The rest of it she had nothing to blame on... just time and boredom. She briefly entertained the idea of going and poking at her plant-father for a bit, but set that thought aside. While torturing the old man was always delightful, she wasn't always in the mood for it. Especially now, watching tiny, brave flowers grow and open to fullness on the dampening ground. It made her feel young and girlish, made her remember gentler times.

She decided instead to strap on her heaviest boots and go tromping around outside; destroying every flower she could smash her feet on. She sent a brief word of instruction to the ship's navigator and went to her chambers, finding a pair of thick-soled, metal inlaid boots and pulling them on with gusto, before fairly skipping (or, as close as she got to the activity, which was more of a brisk walk that made everyone within hearing distance of those boots scramble out of her way) out of the hull doors and into the foggy faux-spring outside of her ship.

After the first minute, Mukuro's tromping had died down to a slow, contemplative walk. Yes, the flowers were crushed quite nicely under her heavy boots, but the smell they gave was sweet and refreshing, mingling with the loamy scent of the earth and the wetness in the air. She held her hands linked behind her back as she walked, gazing off into the horizon on one side, the plains on the other. Briefly she thought that the only thing that would make this silly walk more ludicrous and saccharine would be a unicorn to pop up and lay its head in her lap. Horrified, she realized that the fantasy ended not with herself killing the poor creature and feeding it to her underlings, but sitting down and actually petting the thing.

"What in all the Gods' names is wrong with me," she said to the rain, receiving nothing but the soft patter of rainfall as her answer. Then, a second sound interrupted - it sounded suspiciously like hooves.

She turned abruptly, identifying the sound as not a unicorn - thank all the Gods -but a horse-demon in one of her scouting groups. Next to him was a large-nosed kotengu left over from the Tournament, and on the Horse's other side was a skanky cat demon Mukuro had bought from a brothel for his particular ability to find humans in barren terrain.

Hoisted over the shoulder of the horse was a tattered, wretched creature that at one time had been a young kitsune. Now it was bloody, dirty, and nearly dead, having somehow found its way to the middle of the dead plains.

Mukuro gave her scouts a curious look, and went to intercept them. They stopped and bowed in front of her, then the kotengu stepped forward, his bright red face almost uncannily made more vivid against the greyness of the surroundings.
"Master, we found a fox. It was dropped here by a wheeled transport not unlike a human all-terrain vehicle. The parties that left him and their transport are gone before the fourth hour of rain, and cannot be tracked beyond several miles. The fox is alive now, but would require extensive medical help if it is to survive."

Mukuro nodded, taking in the information and filing it all away quickly. Foxes were nearly impossible to find this far from a city or substantial forest. Whatever this one had done, it had been dropped likely with the intent that it would either die or become someone else's problem. The horse grunted and interrupted her thoughts, shifting the fox's weight on his shoulder. The cat was looking at her intently, noticing when her attention returned to them.
"Friend or food?" The cat asked, the question echoed either in voice or gesture by his companions.

She thought on this a moment, and then nodded. "Take him to Yulla. She'll have him patched up and we can ask who is brave enough to not watch a fox die and burn its body so it causes no more trouble." the three nodded and obeyed, turning to the ramp leading into the body of the ship. The horse's heavy plodding she could hear long minutes after. She waited, continuing her odd vigil in the rain, before following them, ordering the door closed behind her.

Yulla was an old bitch - literally as well as figuratively, being a demon dog - who served as the ship fortress's main healer. Her talent was unparalleled among any others that had filtered through the fortress' rosters over the centuries, and Mukuro respected her. More than that; she liked the ornery old biddy.

Once the emaciated fox was laid out for her, Yulla set to work, poking, prodding, snapping orders out to her assistants with brutal and cold efficiency. She had no bedside manner, but that was to be expected. She was a doctor from times of war. One didn't coddle soldiers.

Mukuro watched, gazing thoughtfully at the display. The fox had lost an eye - his left - and had been obviously starved. There were lacerations on his wrist and neck, probably his ankles too. He'd put up a struggle, if the oozing wounds on his knuckles and fingertips (now mostly bare of the fingernails) were any indication. If that was the case, he'd either fight to be alive or have given up all hope by now. She hoped it was the former; she wanted to know just who could trap a fox so well.

An hour passed. Yulla finally looked up from her work.

"Eye's been pecked out," she growled. Her voice was always a growl. Mukuro wondered if it was genetics or attitude.

"Pecked?"

"Bird, or some damn fine tweezers. Looks like Tengu work, that 'Crane Plucks The Minnow' or whatever move they like to use when they're being real assholes." The last Yulla punctuated by viciously cutting a string of catgut she'd sewn the fox up with. "Socket's clean; we can get him a glass one, if he decides to wake up."

"Does he need a sit in one of the tanks?"

Yulla scowled at her. It was the 'and where did you learn how to heal, HM?' scowl. She hated those tanks with a passion. Mukuro relented.

"Where's your shadow?" Yulla asked after the scowl had faded to her more customary glower. It was Mukuro's turn to make a face.

"He's out," she said, one hand straying to her hip, where Hiei's sword hung. "Some business."

Yulla snorted. "I'll call you when this one wakes up," she growled, waving Mukuro away and turning to start cleanup. Mukuro took the hint and made herself scarce, wondering why Yulla was the only demon in all the world that could talk to her like a child and she didn't resent for it.

She thanked the old Gods that there were no windows here, and that she couldn't hear the rain, but its soft patter still buzzed in her mind. Mukuro's hand rested on the hilt of Hiei's sword, and she wished he would come back soon.

Shizuru was close to breathing a sigh of relief once they made it to the top of the stairs, but relief was burned away by horror.

The buildings were still smoldering. Emergency vehicles were milling around, running, but apparently unmanned. Underneath the wheels of the closest police car she could see one of the bewildered schoolgirls they'd passed. Still clutched in her right hand was the cell phone she had been snapping pictures with. Crows were pecking at her eyes.

There were other corpses, too. People she'd seen when Hiei had dragged her and Yukina down into the tunnel. Some of the corpses were full of bullet holes, others seemed to have been run over, or their faces smashed in by some blunt object. Apparently, Emergency Services had decided to make their own emergency instead of putting out the fire spreading from the Mycal building to the apartments on the other side of the street. The empty, silent street.

"What happened?" Yukina breathed, covering her mouth. Whether to muffle the sound of her voice or to ward off the stench of rain and fire and death Shizuru didn't know. She guessed all of the above.

"I don't-" Hiei began, but was cut off by a wholly unfamiliar sound under muffled screams from the tunnel they had just left. They turned as one and watched as a businessman ran, screaming, from the tunnel's entryway. In one hand he clutched a breifcase that had popped open, the papers spilling behind him in a white trail. He spotted them, and began sprinting in their direction. He was screaming, mostly incoherent, but what Shizuru could decipher was more than what she wanted to hear.

OH GOD HELP ME THEY'RE SHOOTING EVERYONE HELP HELP HEL-

And then there was that sound again, a kind of pith-thunk sound like a small stone being dropped in a large amount of water, and the man went down, his forehead exploding in a brilliant flower of blood, gray matter, and bone. Behind him, an officer in riot gear stood, weapon aimed and still smoking from the silencing barrel. Two more officers flanked him - if it was a him at all - their weapons hanging easily at their sides.

Later, she'd be impressed at how Hiei could juggle two women still clutching stubbornly to full bags of groceries, dodge semi-automatic rifle fire, and manage to get from ground level to the top of a nine-story building in less than the time it took for the next round of fire to go from the first officer's gun to the point where they had been standing second-fractions before. For now, she felt like she was going to vomit, but managed to keep a retching to a minimum until they were safely out of the line of fire. The thunking sound from the gun echoed through the streets despite the silencer and the dull rain, cutting off when the officer realized there was nothing to shoot.

On the roof, Hiei set Shizuru down, letting her stumble off and retch out her lunch behind the roof exit door. Yukina followed, holding her hair back with cool hands. Shizuru thanked her silently, taking slow, deep breaths. She hadn't just seen a man die, she'd heard his soul screaming in agony as it was wrenched from his body. As if... as if it wasn't his time. To make matters worse, she couldn't feel the presence of any shinigami anywhere. Just angry, recent ghosts.

When she was done, Yukina handed her a bottle of water from one of the grocery bags, and a handkerchief. Shizuru thanked her and took the water, washing the acidic taste out of her mouth. She still felt queasy, but damned if she'd let a little stomach upset keep her down. Standing, she made her way over Hiei, who was glancing over the edge of the building. Following his gaze, she could see the Officers that had shot at them searching the street carefully, swinging around flashlights into the slowly darkening alleyways and door frames.

"The police are still in their cars," Hiei remarked, his voice tense. He pointed, and she squinted her eyes.

In some of the emergency vehicles still sat the drivers and teams. Uniformed corpses were strewn among the plainclothes dead.

"Who are they, then?" she kept her voice hardly a whisper. Yukina had come over, and was clinging to her arm. "Terrorists? They're having trouble with that shit in America."

"Not human," Hiei pointed to his jagan. "Something down there wanted me to see them."

"I saw that. You scared the shit out of me; I thought they were going to shoot you."

Hiei gave her a withering look at the very thought of actually being slow enough to get hit by one of those things, but it faded quickly back into a scowl of concern. "I was being manipulated. And whoever they are have been spreading."

"You're tracking them? Can't they sense it?"

"Not from this range, they shouldn't."

"I'd rather you say they can't," she mumbled. "Where did they all come from? There must have been hundreds."

"Maybe a portal, or something like a-"

The harsh scream of a crow cut him off mid-sentence. Again they all turned, looking into the gaping gullet of a screaming bird. It flapped its mangy, nasty wings at them and called again. Another crow, further away, screamed as well. Still more appeared on lines and rooftops, surrounding them in a half-circle, backs to the street.

"Shiiiiit," Shizuru put a hand over her mouth, her eyes going wide. "Where the fuck did they come from..." Her question was answered before the sentence was finished. Where the first crow had stood was now one of the mock-officers from the street.

"Tengu," Hiei hissed, reaching again for Shizuru and Yukina.

"Sure is getting crowded up here," Shizuru muttered. Yukina laughed nervously. Six more crows humanized themselves. The visors over their faces reflecting watery light from the street. Shizuru repressed a shudder; Hiei's hand was around her wrist again. A second later, and the crow-men moved as one, surging forward like a swarm.

Deafening cracks of thunder had given way to soft growls punctuated by bright, blinding flashes of lightning. Each flare brought the room into different high relief, making Kuronue's eyes hurt and his mind spin. He watched the two humans in front of him look at each other, unsure what to do after his rather bold statement.

He hadn't been exaggerating; he had no other contacts in the human world. As eager as he had been to leave earlier, there was no way he could go back to Makai or the home he and Kurama had shared without attracting more attention than he could handle. As for slumming it around the city, he didn't know who his brother's spies were, where they operated, and how many of them there were. The city itself was a labyrinth of sensation and confusion, and the last place he wanted to be stuck without a base of operations.

That, and he was wary. He'd been only half conscious when the human Shuuichi had murmured something to the effect of "he can't know," referring to himself. Can't know what, exactly? He was being lied to, somehow; he was sure of it. He'd be embarrassed to call himself Youko Kurama's partner if he couldn't spot something so simple as a lie. But, so far, he couldn't catch either Shuuichi or his now-absent demon friend in whatever the lie was.

It disturbed him more now being back in the apartment he'd fled from so quickly. He hadn't noticed it before, but the entire place was drenched in Kurama's scent and youki. The multitude of plants growing around the place all reeked of his energy, and Shuuichi practically radiated it under that distinct scent and feel of 'human.' Were they lovers, maybe? No, Kurama never attached himself to humans. What, then? The feel of Kurama's youki was fresh, but... somehow distant. Like it was slowly but steadily fading. Perhaps he'd attached to the human and gotten bored, moved on.

No. That didn't fit Kurama at all. But what? What was he missing here? Kurama had abandoned him decades ago, for reasons he still couldn't fathom though the betrayal still stung like a salted wound. Not for this human, surely. Shuuichi wasn't nearly old enough, despite being Youko's type. Like all the other 'guests' Youko had invited into their little trysts, Shuuichi was of the pretty but strong variety: good looking, almost to the point of being androgynous pretty, but strong and full of the stamina of youth.

Kuronue quickly squashed those memories before his imagination got out of hand. Fifty years of solitude hadn't done much to kill his sex drive, and waking up with his head in the lap of an attractive male - human or no - had been more than enough to improve his general mood.

All these thoughts over the span of a moment, though it felt longer. Time seemed so different here, outside of his metal prison. It seemed like the silence had stretched hours when Shuuichi finally spoke up.

"I do not know what I can offer," Shuuichi's voice was soft, but raw.

From the bruises that stood out in sharp relief on his skin, Kuronue could guess why. Kuronue's hands itched and he crossed his arms, feeling more than a little guilty. He'd been too rough.

Shuuichi continued. "My home is small, but it is open to you. I'm not sure that I, I," he hesitated, looking to Kuwabara.

The look that passed between them was... very deep. Very disconcerting, though Kuwabara seemed to be trying to look encouraging. That was hopeful. Kuronue liked the taller human; the man seemed very calm and capable, unperturbed by the presence of a demon.

Still, the secrecy bothered him. What am I missing? What clue do I not have? He chewed the inside of his cheek, watching them. Finally, whatever silent conversation passed was over.

Shuuichi bowed his head. "You have our backing as you need," he murmured, and Kuwabara beamed brightly.

Thank the Gods, that was settled. Kuronue felt relief lift the pressure from his shoulders, letting him uncross his arms and relax. He pulled out a chair for himself, sitting directly across from Kuwabara, who was still grinning. Kuronue liked the Kuwabara fellow. For a human, he seemed very personable, and the reiki that surrounded him was strong, but unthreatening. Like a large but friendly dog.

"It isn't just Shuuichi an' me," Kuwabara said, taking over as Shuuichi lapsed into silence. "Without going into too much boring detail, we're part of a good-sized group. Lots of connections, lots of people you can go to if you can't find either of us. My sister excluded, because she's crazy. Anyway, you got a lot of help, Kuronue, if you want it."

Kuronue nodded. Interesting how easily they accepted, how eager they were to help. But, best not to look that gift horse in the mouth for now. He had something, even if that something was the help of humans. He could deal.

"You'll need identification," Shuuichi said, folding his hands on the table. The human seemed to change subtly, from vulnerable and unsure to businesslike, professional. Interesting. "Funds, clothing, possibly transportation."

Kuronue smirked and flexed his wings. "I have my own."

"There are too many demons around..." Shuuichi's eyes narrowed, his expression changed from neutral to irritated. "You'll be noticed."

"Barrier to Makai's been dropped," Kuwabara supplied. "Uh, big stuff's happened since you've been gone. But there's talk of re-integration and stuff. Lots of youkai hanging around in the city, provided they aren't flesh-eaters."

"Or are quiet about being such." Shuuichi finished. "You won't be able to fly around unnoticed for long, and information is currency here just as much as it is in Makai. Anyone with a debt will be looking for someone who is interested in a new Tengu flying around like he owns the place."

Kuronue listened quietly, narrowing his eyes. Was that a commanding tone in Shuuichi's voice?

Huh, no wonder Youko likes him. Arrogant little pup.

He was about to snap back a snide comment about not needing a human to tell him what to do (and how stupid that would have been, in retrospect) when Kuwabara shot up out of his chair, eyes wide.

"There has just been an extreme fucking disturbance in the Force," Kuwabara said, his voice tight. He walked briskly to the balcony doors, shoving open the screens with his shoulders. Shuuichi followed immediately, and Kuronue, curious as well as feeling he had no choice, brought up the rear.

Looking down on the street there was little to see. The humans next to him looked suitably worried by the flashing lights and the myriad vehicles speeding down the roads to the center of the destruction (office buildings, still gushing smoke and little tongues of fire) which to him didn't seem like any great interest, but he supposed their worry was justified. He was still confused about that 'the force' comment, anyway. Humans these days spoke so strangely.

"Look, over there," Shuuichi gestured towards a break in the buildings, a crossroads where a metal bridge-building stood attached to track lines. "Did you see those flashes of light?"

Kuronue hadn't, but Kuwabara nodded his head. "That's weird, they're coming from over there, too." He pointed as well, down along the path of the rail tracks where they dipped underneath the street.

"And the office buildings, over there..." Shuuichi's eyes were narrowed. "That doesn't seem... right."

"No..." Kuwabara began pacing along the balcony. Kuronue took his place at the railing, glancing over the streets.

There didn't seem anything particularly out of place to him (at least, out of place beyond the general weirdness of there being a city where once there was wilderness) but the humans seemed nervous. Kuronue caught the bright lights further along the street, past the buildings Shuuichi had pointed out. This time, they were out on the actual street, near a tunnel leading underground. He squinted, and could barely make out figures in the gloom. Three of them, tall, human, but something was off. He tried to look closer, and watched as they burst into flight. Tengu. Specifically, ko-tengu, probably low level crows that were just old enough to take human form. On the rooftops near there, more lingered, in crow and human shape, most of them flocking to one rooftop in particular. And from that rooftop, he could see something... dark hurtling towards them.

He had just enough time to throw himself out of the way when a cannonball in the shape of people shot past Kuwabara and Shuuichi, knocking both humans over. He had enough time to register that it was Shuuichi's demon friend, another demon female, and the woman he'd seen lingering on the balcony. There was a moment of shouting, general entanglement on the part of the humans, and a lot of cursing. The woman he'd seen leaped to her feet, pointing at him. Before she could say anything, however, the black body of a crow hurtled into him, knocking him aside. He turned, ready to attack, and stopped.

The sky, already dark and bloated from stormclouds, was now black with the bodies of crows.

For a brief, insane moment, Kurama thought he'd been hit by a car. Two thoughts occurred after that. The first:

No, that's what Yuusuke does.

The second:

How did a car get all the way up here?

It was in the middle of trying to figure out the second question that he realized he had not, in fact, been hit by a car, and that Hiei, Yukina, and Shizuru were all either sprawled, standing, or screaming in his living room. He also realized that his injured arm suddenly felt more along the lines of 'injured and painful' than 'injured and healing.' In the confusion, he'd fallen, landing on that arm with all of his body weight. His final realizations were that he was being rained on, and that there were birds. Birds everywhere. A black, screaming swarm of birds.

He pulled himself up shakily, using the railing around the balcony for support, still dazed, still not entirely sure what was happening. Shizuru was shouting from just inside the doors, but the words were indecipherable above the racket the crows and the pounding headache in his ears were making.

Dazed, he turned, facing a flash of orange light and a spray of dark red. Suddenly, singed feathers were tossed through the stormy air, and hot blood was on his skin; he could taste it, he was breathing it.

Kuwabara stood with Jigen-tou in hand, slicing at battalions of crows. They went down in groups and were immediately replaced. Just beside Kuwabara, Kuronue was slashing at the flock
Murder, groups of crows are called murders
with hands and claws, his eyes wild, distressed, furious. Something from the direction of the living room flew into part of a cluster; Kurama recognized the leg of his coffee table braining an unfortunate crow and following down the hundreds of feet to unforgiving cement. Another chunk of table lodged itself in the wing of a different crow, and it spiraled into one of its group. Down they went, screaming.

A hand grabbed him. He was pulled roughly back from the railing, and was surprised to find it was Yukina dragging him in. She was talking. Or, maybe she was. Her mouth was moving but he could swear no sound was coming out.

God his head hurt. He looked around dumbly for something to fight with, finding instead Hiei, crouching down, hands over face, blood seeping from between locked fingers.

His ears popped, and suddenly noise was a reality he had no part of. Someone, impossibly, had put the world on mute. He turned again, watching the silent play of Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds: Remastered as it was acted out before him.

Yukina had let Kurama go in favor of going to Hiei and attempting to pry the fingers away from his face. Shizuru stood not two feet from them, tossing whatever she could find at the crows. Beyond her Kuronue grappled with a crow that was rapidly becoming man sized and shaped. Then Kuwabara, Jigen-tou ablaze, cutting down what he could, battling off with his free hand what he couldn't.

Shizuru's next throw hit the man-crow-thing that was scrabbling for Kuronue's eyes square in the temple, knocking it on its side. Kuronue tossed it away, making a grab for Kuwabara as he did. Another man-bird-thing was falling down on them, feet/talons out to slice the skin from their faces. It missed, and they dove for the door. Yukina gestured, and the open doorway was a sudden wall of ice. Steam rolled off the ice in sheets, countering the humid air in the room.

The first sound to break through the haze of silence surrounding Kurama's head was the sound of shattering glass. He turned, back towards his room.

"The windows..." He was unsure whether he actually spoke the words or was just thinking them. Either way, everyone turned to stare down the hallway to his room, the little den, and the bathroom. More glass shattered, and then the door to his room bulged out like a jellyfish bloating on the tide. Then it splintered, spilling faux-wood splinters out into the hallway. He jumped back, colliding with Kuwabara and Kuronue. A thing that was now more man than crow stood in the broken doorway, hunched down, eyes wild, wings mantling over its shoulders. It was bleeding.

No. Not bleeding. Blood did not skitter the way the blackness dripping from the Tengu's mouth did.

Not blood.

Spiders.

Kurama would have run, right then and right fucking there, if it had not been for the tortured screech coming from the area of his closet. Another Tengu, more crow-like than the one blocking the door, was dangling Misa from a back leg. The cat was writing, screeching, flailing with her claws desperately. The Tengu lifted her above its head, as if curious, and then opened its beak wide, ready to swallow her whole, claws and all, as neatly as a pill.

Later, much later, Kurama would think back and imagine the next few moments as being not unlike a benign possession in the same way Raizen's sudden takeover of Yuusuke during that battle so long ago. Now, though, his body moved without any real consent from his mind. A hand - Kuronue's - was on his arm. Whether holding him back or holding him up he could not tell. A smooth roll of the shoulder released Kuronue's grip and he moved forward, conscious and unconscious of what he intended to do. He bent, taking into his hands a splintered chunk of what was once his door. It was long, thin, sharp. For now, it would have to do as well as a sword.

The Tengu that blocked his doorway was speaking, or something like speaking. It and the pained yowling from his cat were the only things he could hear. Or perhaps it wasn't hearing so much as paying attention over the growing static in his mind.
Good, hoomunz, it said, its voice thick, hissing around the tiny spiders that crawled in and out of its disgusting black gullet; through its awful, beaky nose.

Good hoomunz. Gib uz de gat, gib us de draidor, an all wi' be well. Good, good-

And it kept right on talking, right on spitting little black spiders with every word while Kurama walked up to it in a dreamlike slowness that was like swimming in cotton. It kept on talking, right up until Kurama took the blunt end of the splinter firmly into one hand and shoved it right up through the roof of the Tengu's mouth. It bled to his satisfaction then, blackish-red ichor sliding like oil from the wound, down the splinter, staining his hand. Most of the tiny spiders scattered, repelled or repulsed by either the blood or whatever force (and that's what it had to be, didn't it? He couldn't possibly be doing this on his own. No human could do this) propelled him.

Easily, like a knife from soft butter, he removed the splinter, turning his attention then to the Tengu that held his poor, struggling cat. It had stopped halfway through the motion of readying the cat to eat to stare at him, head cocked, its eyes saying Excuse me, but you can't possibly have just done that.

Hey, he thought back, wondering a moment if he was actually voicing the reply, I'm just as confused as you are. Completely free of his thoughts, his hand moved to spin the splinter in the air, catching it at the tip. A lazy (to him, it seemed almost like slow motion) flick of his wrist sent the makeshift weapon spinning through the air, missing his cat by degrees, and lodging business-end first in the Tengu's eye.

A look of dull, almost distracted surprise filled the Tengu's face and it dropped the cat, who limped pitifully across the room to curl up behind Kurama's legs. The Tengu clawed at its face for one minute... two... and then collapsed, as dead as its partner, half sprawled on Kurama's bed. Satisfied with this, Kurama bent and picked up his cat, cradling her against his chest. There were more Tengu, circling around the building, flying at windows, screaming.

Then, thunder. A roll like a kettle drum followed by a crack that made Kurama's heart stop. He clutched at the cat, the cat clawed him, and he backed away, into Kuronue. Lightning flashed in his eyes, The sky went from white to black and back again like a strobe. The crows blackened the windows, lightning flashed between their feathers as they flew into the apartment, talons and beaks destroying whatever they could get at.

"Move! Both of you, move!"

Behind him, there was a flash of orange-golden light, and the feeling of ice. Kurama tried to back away further and stumbled into Kuronue. They hugged the wall, slipping over ice that had once been his carpet, staying out of the range of the lancing arrows of reiki from Kuwabara. Kurama realized belatedly that Kuronue was shielding him with a wing, warding off the crows so intent at tearing them all to pieces. He shudderd. And then, it stopped.

Call them off, for now.

Tadashi jumped, startled. His hands hovered over the glowing sphere of the kitsune-bi, and then hastily closed over it to kill the light that filled this part of his room. The jewel burned his hands, but he paid the pain no heed.

He knew whatever pain a burn could bring was nothing compared to breaking his promises to the shadowed voice.

"Call," he licked suddenly dry lips and cradled the stone to his chest. The power was searing his hands, a smell of burnt meat wafted through the air. "Call them off?"

Yes. They have fulfilled their purpose, and the day comes on swift wings.

Tadashi mentally counted the hours. It would be dawn soon. Had the night gone so fast? Ah, he would not complain. He had no choice.

Straining, he reigned in the energy that spilled from the kitsune-bi, fueling the storm and forming their flighted warriors to the building he could only dimly see far off in the darkness. What a surprise, realizing how close the fox had lived for all this time. How easy it would have been to just walk into his home and kill him, without all this subterfuge. Without having to deal with the unpleasantness of their former prisoner.

The storm subsided, the crows dispersed. The jewel in his hand ceased it's burning, the glow dying down to a dull ember's light. Tadashi felt the presence of the voice next to his ear, and the feeling of numbness on his cheek like a kiss. Job well done.

Now I go to do my work. Rest now; soon it will be time to move again.

And then it was gone, and he was alone. He opened his hands, looking at the circular burns on his palms, blackening under the force of the heat that had cooled to stone in the jewel.

Soon.

The thunder died. Not the lingering, rumbling death of a natural storm, but a sudden stop, like a light switch being flicked off.

Kurama peeked out from within the circle of Kuronue's wings, glancing around at the destruction. Underfoot, the carpet was already beginning to thaw after Yukina's attack. it was littered with crow corpses and marks where Kuwabara's reiki had hit wide. A quick look into his room showed even more destruction, dead crows, and everythign covered in an inch-thick layer of ice.

He sighed, stepping carefully out into the hall to see. Kuronue's hand lingered on his shoulder, but fell away. He glanced back at Kuronue, who was bending to examine one of the bodies. Kurama, feeling very much like he was tresspassing, stepped a little further away, giving him room.

There was a sting, right underneath his wrist. Kurama turned his arm to look, juggling Misa (although he didn't need to, her claws were holding her in place just fine) to his injured as he did, ignoring the jab of pain. There, half-drowned in the blackish blood that covered his arm to the elbow, was one of those nasty little black spiders. He sneered at it and smacked his wrist against the wall, leaving a smear of blood and the spider, it's legs twitching in a final death spasm. he then tried wiping his arm on the side of his pants, only succeeding in smearing the blood around further. It was like slimy grease, and didn't seem to want to come off.

"Shit, they don't hold back, do they?" It was Shizuru, standing now next to him and surveying the damage. It was impossible to tell if she was talking abou the birds or her brother and Yukina.

"I don't..." he began, but trailed off. he looked at his wrist again, and then past Kuronue into the living room, where Yukina was bandaging Hiei's face while Kuwabara held a flashlight for her. What had happened to him? He gestured vaguely. "Something bit me." Two sets of eyes snapped to him, and he held out his blood-smeared arm. "A spider," he clarified, feeling very much like a small child. He wasn't thinking on the same level as usual. Vocabulary was becoming difficult to manage. Kuronue took his hand to examine it, and Shizuru went immediately back to the living room, calling for Yukina.

"Since when do Tengu work with spiders," Kuronue was murmuring, trying to wipe the blood away. "And these Tengu... they're too young to take human shape."

Kurama looked at him, completely at a loss for what to say. He was saved from having to think harder for some kind of reply by Shizuru returning and dragging him by the shirt collar to the living room. There he saw Kuwabara balancing a salad bowl full of water on one hand and holding a roll of paper towels in the other, trying to navigate the wreckage and set them down within Yukina's reach. Hiei, now laying sedately on the floor, looked like he'd fallen asleep. There were fresh bandages over his left and third eyes, blood already starting to soak through. The bandages were covered with the remains of Hiei's warded bandana. Kurama shuddered.

"What happened to-"

"Siddown," Shizuru cut him off, plunking him on the floor next to Yukina. He felt embarrassingly like a rag doll.

Kuwabara managed to put down the bowl and the towels without mishap, then taking Misa from Kurama's unresisting hands. Yukina began cleaning away the ichor, with little success. Frowning, she examined the wound closely, pulling his skin taut, peering close as if she could see whether or not there was venom. She probably could, for all Kurama knew.

"A spider bite?" She asked, reaching for her kit. She pulled out gauze, rubbing alcohol, tiny scissors, and medical tape, laying each out by her knee in order of use.

"One of the little black ones that were... er, in the Tengu," he replied, juggling with Misa again, who was trying to crawl into his shirt. Yukina shook her head, wiping down the bite and the surrounding skin with the alcohol. That, at least, seemed to get most of the blood off.

"You hit your arm when you fell, too," Yukina was murmuring, one cool hand resting on the bandages she'd put there earlier in the day. Kurama managed not to wince.

"What happened to Hiei?" He managed to ask finally, settling back and letting Yukina work on him.

"One of them big buzzards got him," Shizuru said, casting look at Kuronue that was imperceptible. Kuronue stared back, unmoved. The temperature in the room became impossibly colder. Shizuru pulled a sad-looking pack of cigarettes from her back pocket, floundered for a lighter that wasn't there, sighed, and returned the pack to her pocket. "They went for his eyes," she muttered, going to the one unruined couch. She seemed hesitant to sit, and then did, flopping down bonelessly, exhausted. "what time is it?"

No one answered. She glanced around, and settled her sights on Kurama. "Don't you have a clock in here?"

He shifted uncomfortably, earning a displeased noise from Yukina. "They're all digital," he muttered lamely. Shizuru's glare intensified. He found himself praying that she'd leave it at that and not ask the question he knew she was going to.

"You don't have a single wall clock in here?" Oh, thank you universe, for never giving the weary a rest.

Kurama looked down, embarrassed. "I don't like the ticking noise," he admitted, feeling a hot flush crawl up the back of his neck. Did she have to humiliate him like this? He was horribly aware of her stare not wavering. Then she sighed, sinking back into the couch. He had a sinking feeling she'd ask him about it again later. And then tease him mercilessly about it.

Silence drifted through the room again, broken only by the flutter of wind through the now uncomfortably airy apartment, and the distant sirens of the city.

Yukina sighed when she finished with Kurama's arms, the left bandaged neatly with gauze where the spider had bitten, the right set from wrist to shoulder, now numb with whatever healing magic and medicine she had used on him. Kuwabara took the opportunity to speak up then.

"I don't know about the rest of you," he said, glancing about the room, "but I'd feel a lot better if we were somewhere else. I've got my truck, and it isn't too long a drive to Genkai's place. We don't know how long this calm'll last, and I don't like taking chances."

Kurama smiled. It would always be 'Genkai's Place' for them, no matter how long it had been since she died. He nodded.

"I'm for that. Kuronue?" He looked to the Tengu, who seemed surprised to be addressed. Kurama tried a reassuring smile. "It's a temple we all trained at. Much more defensible than here, out of the city." That seemed to relax Kuronue a bit, and the Tengu nodded.

"I can't argue, I'm just a tagalong here. If you say it's safer," a shrug, more with wings than shoulders, "then it's safer."

Kuwabara crossed the room, handing Misa back to Kurama, then bending to hoist Hiei over one shoulder. "Let's get going now, then. I don't want to be here when they come back."

The rustle and clatter of everyone moving to go seemed overloud in the windy silence. Kurama held onto the cat, hooking one of the grocery bags (Shizuru demanded they take it all with, considering the trouble they'd gone through) over his elbow. Kuronue grabbed a bag as well, following behind. Yukina and Shizuru brought up the rear. Kurama didn't bother locking up; didn't even take a final glance as they trooped mutely down the hall to the emergency staircase. He only stopped when they began to pile into Kuwabara's truck, glancing up the tower to his window. Black feathers still fluttered on the breeze, their fall like dry rain.

Never in his life had Youko needed to deal with a claustrophobic demon. A few humans, yes. One of note who was a partner in China for a few months before the hiding in dark places drove the poor man's nerves until they were shot. Humans didn't like being confined to dark places. For them, it was apparently a terrible, horrible thing. Most demons, however, didn't suffer the same affliction.

Except for Kuronue.

Youko could kind of understand why Kuronue was having a mild fit as they picked their way through the narrow caves that led down the mountain, and would be charitable and attribute it to the urgency of the situation, but it was annoying. After an hour of "Are we there yet?" Youko had made it quite clear that he'd leave Kuronue in the tunnels if another word was said on the matter. It was difficult enough going through these tunnels alone, more so now.

He had to force thoughts of his home out of his head. He had to not think of how much he loved being there, of how eventually someone would dig through the rubble and find the place, that his old treasures and memories and life would again be compromised. He had to force himself to be optimistic, to remember that picking up and moving at a moment's notice was nothing new, that he would move on and eventually forget the place. He had to then remind himself that the forgetting part was a lie, and that losing the one stable home he'd had in his life outside of a brothel thousands of miles away was probably going to be an issue for a long, long while.

Still, it was better than dying. It was better than losing to Sojobo, that idiot, and surrendering everything he'd worked for with inevitable struggle.

Think of it this way, he told himself, picking along a path that had partially caved in. You lost a home, but you gained a partner. Besides, while Kuronue was no substitute for 'home,' he wasn't all bad. Intelligent, a quick learner, strong, and easy on the eyes. Loyal, too, or at least loyal on a more-than-immediate-interest basis. Of course, that loyalty could be singularly attributed to self-preservation, but Youko had over the last hour and few minutes convinced himself that it would be unwise to look a gift horse in the mouth.

A rumble and a sudden thin waterfall of earth shook him out of his thoughts. He looked back at Kuronue, who had gone still as stone behind him, eyes wide with barely-suppressed panic. Even a few feet away Youko could smell the terror rolling of Kuronue in waves, and applauded him for not up and running the way Youko knew he wanted to.

The shifting of dirt and rock slowed to a trickle, leaving a little mound on the pathway, barely a foot high. The rumbling, however, did not end. It was a low snore at times, then a gasp of noise that echoed down the tunnels. Youko could see that Kuronue had started shaking. Taking pity on him, Youko motioned him to stand closer so they could speak.

"Explosives," Youko explained, his voice hardly above a whisper. "They sound close. If we're lucky and quick, we can make it out on the northern end of the base before they reach down there. I don't think they'll bomb further than the peak, though." He hoped they wouldn't.

Kuronue didn't answer; his body language was enough. Youko beckoned him to follow, choosing a slightly faster pace through the tunnels. If they were bombing the mountain and not just burning the trees... They probably knew he and Kuronue had escaped by now. He was sure that he wouldn't be the only one who lived on the mountain to know of the caves and tunnels. And, knowing it was futile, he hoped that no one would think to try and follow them.

A sharp turn in the tunnel proved almost fatal. Youko backed up hurriedly, clamping a hand over Kuronue's mouth for silence. He'd seen, at the end of the turn, a dim, flickering light. He couldn't smell fire, at least not over the dank of the caves and the acrid stench of the explosives that echoed above their heads. But, there was a fire down there, and if he listened hard between blasts, it was being tended.

He motioned for Kuronue to stay, handed over his pack, and slunk silently down the tunnel towards the fire. The bombs thundered overhead. He could feel the forest dying.

Focus.

Down there, not more than fifteen meters away, two figures huddled around an ill-concieved fire burning in the pit of a few fallen stones. The fire was smokeless, but hot. He could feel it warming his skin even from this far away.

One of the figures spoke.

"S' which one'r we s'posed to kill?"

"Neither, if we can help it," grumbled its companion. "They want 'em for something. Can't do it if the fox is dead, worthless if the little prince dies."

A sound of discontent. Someone stirred the fire.

"Wha they wan' th' fox for?"

"He's got something they need." A rustling noise, like a shrug. "Some thing he stole."

Youko edged closer, bringing his hand to the nape of his neck. Rose seeds clung to his hair there, ready for him to pull them into deadly life. Then he froze. Kuronue was right next to him, melting into the shadows so well he hadn't even been able to detect the Tengu's presence until they were less than a few inches away. In Kuronue's hand was a dagger, curved and wicked and sharp enough to cut the air in half. A brief glance passed between them.

'You kill,' Youko mouthed, motioning to the speaker with the strange slur. The other one he would bind for interrogation.

Kuronue nodded, and in a blur of dark on dark, he was gone. A breath later, and one figure slumped over. The other rose clumsily, and fell back to the earth again, bound by thorny vines neck to foot. The fire glittered in the horrified gaze of the remaining bandit, and the smell of urine and terror suddenly made the cavern seem like a very small room.

Youko spared a moment to watch Kuronue move away from the fresh corpse, carefully cleaning the dagger as he leaned nonchalantly against the cave wall. Youko was very impressed. A second ago, the Tengu had been shaking, terrified. Now, all competent business. Youko felt something akin to fondness swell up inside of him, but he pushed it aside for now.

He loomed over their captive, glowering down into horrified eyes. A human, how disgustingly petty. That Sojobo was employing humans to try and stop them just served to make him angrier.

"I am going to kill you," Youko said, punctuating this with a sudden growth of thorns. The captive gave a cry of pain that was a little too shrill for Youko's tastes, and whimpered pitifully. "How you die is your decision. You can give me all the information you have, and go quickly into the next life, or I will leave you here to be a living flower bed for the next century or so. If you are entertaining the idea of someone finding and rescuing you, stop now." He ignored the stench and crouched down, bringing his face close to the horrified bandit. "No one will. When I bind a man, he stays bound. Understand?"

The bandit nodded. Sweat was pouring down his face, and the smell of blood began to rise to Youko's nose. He smiled. "I will give you a moment to consider your options. Kuronue?"

Kuronue glanced up from his cleaning, his eyes cold with business. Youko smirked approvingly.

"I would like you to count to three, to give this man time to think." Kuronue returned the smirk and twirled the knife in the air.

"One," Kuronue drawled. The bandit was starting to shake. Youko looked down at him boredly.

"Two," the smell of piss was thicker now, and the bandit looked like he was about to retch.

"Thr-"

"I'll tell you! I'll tell you! The lord, he paid us in advance! We've been setting up in here for weeks, bandits from the south all along the caves! He, he, he..." the man started to cry, shuddering like a small child, snot and tears streaming down his face. "He promised horses and gold and free reign of the valley for ten years. Ten years! I just wanted the gold, it wasn't personal, I just wanted the gold! I JUST WANT-"

The last echoes of the bandit's cry filtered down the tunnels a moment, and then died as well. The thorns withdrew, slipping back into vine, vine to sprout, sprout to seed. Youko sneezed, and then stood. Kuronue had sheathed the knife and disappeard back down the way they came, returning a moment later with their packs. Youko took his gratefully, and tried without success to think of something to say.

"All down the caves," Kuronue murmured. From this close, Youko could see that his face had grown quite pale, and that the bravery was just on the surface. Solid, but not complete. Somehow, that made him feel more confident about Kuronue's abilities.

"We'll be able to avoid some of them, the rest we'll have to kill." He paused, noticing how ill Kuronue looked at that. "Are you all right with that?"

Kuronue waved a hand. "I am, I just wish we were out of here now." He was shivering again, Youko noticed, and his wings were mantling over his shoulders, like he wanted to take flight immediately.

"Soon," Youko promised, surprised at the soothing tone his voice took. He surprised hismelf even more seconds later as he reached out to touch Kuronue's arm. Kuronue didn't flinch, but seemed to calm.

"Soon," Kuronue repeated softly. Youko nodded, then gently turned the Tengu until he was facing the tunnel they needed to leave. "Once we're out safe, I want you to fly ahead of me. Southwest, as fast as you can."

"Won't you-"

"I'm fast enough; I'll be able to follow you. Fly for an hour, and you should see a waterfall valley. Wait for me there. Understand?"

Kuronue nodded mutely. Youko turned, stamped out the fire, and then proceeded down the tunnel, Kuronue at his side. Overhead, the bombing had stopped, and the storm sounds of fire shivered down through the rock of the mountain. Youko shuddered, and quickened his pace.

Soon.