Echoes X Knots UnDone Hiei tied the bandage around Kurama’s leg with a careful gentleness, tightening the white cloth so that it would bind the wound, yet not enough to be uncomfortable. Kuraihana stood off to the side, watching, but not saying anything. She had offered to do this, but Hiei had insisted on doing it; and the healer had taken it as a positive sign; it seemed like Hiei had forgotten his threat of leaving, his decision to leave his fox in order to “protect” him. She moved forward as Hiei straightened, kneeling to examine the bandage with quick, light fingers. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust the small youkai to do everything to keep anything from hurting Kurama, but her own healer’s instincts and long years of practice wouldn’t let her stand idly by. She ghosted her hands over the bandage, then nodded in satisfaction. Hiei barely knew anything about herbs and medicines, but he knew how to tie a wound, dress it so that infection would not be able to set in. Looking up, she smiled warmly, patting her uncle’s knee and getting back to her feet, stretching slightly. Kurama smiled back, swinging his leg a little, then wincing slightly as his leg complained the movement. His grin turned rueful, and he stopped moving, except to lean back slightly, bracing himself with his hands. The sunlight filtered through the open windows, threading through his thick red hair and making his eyes sparkle; the night before, a few hours after awakening, he had reverted back to human form without a conscious thought; they had all taken it as a sign that, aside from the healing wounds, Kurama was truly out of danger. Hiei shifted, his boots making no sound as he walked over to the window, staring out into the wide expanse of the field that surrounded Kuraihana’s home, hedged in by the thick, dark forests that Kurama had helped to expand, so many years ago. His hand ghosted to rest absently on the hilt of his katana, and, watching him, it did not take a very perceptive soul to guess what he was thinking. “Hiei,” Kurama called softly, leaning forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. The Koorime turned slightly, gracing him with the briefest glimpse of narrowed red eyes. The youko began to try and struggle to his feet, but was quickly stopped by Kuraihana’s hands as the healer moved forward, pressing down on his shoulder. He smiled ruefully at her, then spoke again. “Hiei, it’s all right. They need you more than I do, right now. Go back to them; help them. They’ll need your skills, against the Creature.” The thin, small body stiffened, as if in surprise, but Hiei made no sound, other than a small, snorted “Hn!” as he continued to stare out the window. His hand tightened its grip on the katana hilt, and Kurama chuckled dryly to himself, shaking his head. “Hiei, you’re so stubborn,” he chided gently. “I’m fine, now. Chibi-Hana can take care of me just fine; the poison has been purged from my system. I don’t need you hovering over me like a mother hen.” Still no reaction from his lover. Kurama rolled his eyes and surpressed a sigh of fond exasperation. “Think of it this way,” he continued, shaking off Kuraihana’s support, “the sooner you go help them and do what you need to, the sooner we can all go home and forget all this ever happened.” That finally garnered a visible reaction; Hiei turned, and Kurama could easily read the conflict in his lover’s red eyes. He softened, smiling warmly, reaching out for his lover. Hiei only snorted, turning back to the window, staring thoughtfully into the heated light of midday. “I know you’re worried about me, Hiei,” Kurama said softly, and Kuraihana had the odd feeling that her presence was the last thing on either man’s mind. She merely watched quietly, as Kurama went on, his voice low and warm, gentle and understanding. “I appreciate it. I worry about you, too.” He placed a hand over his heart. “But I don’t want you to let me distract you from what you need to do. Don’t let my face be what stills your arm in a crucial fight. When you fight the Creature again, don’t let anger at what happened to me affect how you fight. The others will be depending on you.” Hiei’s voice was gruff when he spoke, still trying to keep up the pretense of indifference. “You’re a soft-hearted idiot,” he muttered, then turned. The soft look in his eyes belied the harshness of his insult, and Kurama smiled widely at the sight. “But I’m your soft-hearted idiot,” he reminded his lover, then grinned as Hiei snorted and rolled his eyes. “I’m serious,” he insisted, staring. “You go help the others. I’ll be fine, and I’m sure that ’Hana-chan over here will be spoiling me rotten.” He grinned impishly at his niece, laughing slightly when she slapped his shoulder lightly. The small, dark form before them blurred suddenly, vanishing, and Hiei suddenly reappeared directly before his lover, small hands reaching up to catch his face, resting their foreheads together. “You take care of yourself, Kurama,” he commanded hoarsely, then pressed his lips almost savagely to his lover’s. He then broke the kiss, giving Kuraihana a dark, unreadable glance as he vanished from the room. Kurama sat there, blinking in surprise, one hand ghosting up to touch his mouth. He smiled, then, rueful and loving and understanding, then looked at Kuraihana. Noting the confusion on her face, he only shook his head again, smiling. “You’ll understand one day,” he told her, lifting his wounded leg carefully and settling it back on the bed. “That’s what you told me when I was a little girl, and Okaasan died,” she said softly, padding over to sit at his bedside, looking up at him. For a moment, time seemed to shift, and the scene seemed to change; it was the little sixteen-year-old child that looked up at her uncle, almost one-hundred-and-twenty years old with all the awe and respect of a young one looking up at a hero. “I still don’t understand half the things you always told me I would.” Kurama smiled slightly, closing his eyes and remembering the goofy smile on his brother’s face; the embarrassment as he tried to pretend he hadn’t noticed Kuraihana’s face or eyes, or the dark flush that had stained his face when Kurama had teased him about it. “Oh, I’m sure it’ll become clear, in time, my chibi-hana,” he said with a low chuckle, stretching slightly. “You’ll understand ... and much sooner than you might think.” She snorted, an indelicate sound that made his smile widen marginally. “Ojisan, you make even less sense than you did back then, if such a thing is possible.” He heard the soft rustling of cloth as she got to her feet and padded over to him, feeling the soft brush of lips against his forehead, a gesture of almost childish affection. “You need to get more sleep,” she said softly, more of an order than anything else. He opened one eye, just enough so he could see her concerned expression, then nodded slightly. “If you insist,” he murmured, stifling a brief yawn and settling deeper into the sheets. “Wake me at sunset,” he instructed, his voice lowering as sleep moved in, insidiously soft and comforting, gently lowering him into a well of dreams. The last thing he heard was Kuraihana’s soft chuckle, and the gentle brush of her hand as she tucked a few stray strands of his hair behind his ear. “Stubborn old fox,” she chided gently, as she straightened, looking down at him. “You haven’t changed a bit, as much as you’d like me to believe.” “Uh-hn ...” he sighed absently, not hearing her words. Shaking her head, she left the room on silent feet. Yo-mawari looked up from the burned, destroyed shell of the caravan wagon, squinting into the bright heat of the mid-morning sun. His long hair had been tied back from his face with a small piece of twine, keeping it away from his face as he worked, heaving the heavier blocks of wood back from their leaning position, searching for any sign of the Creature. He had to blink twice before his eyes focused, the involuntary stinging tears from the brightness of the sun blurring his vision temporarily. There, seated on the roof of the wagon, was a familiar, small figure, clad entirely in black. Sunlight gleamed off the edge of an unsheathed katana, the sharp edge razor-honed in the intense light of the early day. A small, hot breeze struck up, causing the loose strands of Hiei’s hair to ruffle slightly, clearing the area of flesh around the exposed Jagan. Yo-mawari had to blink again to assure himself he saw correctly; he had seen his meijin’s third eye exposed only a few times before, and it was still rather unnerving for him to see that violet orb glowing in the center of Hiei’s forehead. “Meijin?” he asked softly. “Doushita no?” he leaned forward, about to speak again, when Hiei stiffened, getting to his feet. Calm red eyes glanced briefly at him, and one small hand lifted in a wordless command for silence. Yo-mawari complied, confused, watching as Hiei’s eyes scanned the horizon, narrowing until they were twin slits of bright red. “There,” Hiei hissed, his voice low and angry. “It’s there.” He pointed, and the youko turned, squinting and frowning. Before he could ask, Hiei had leapt down from the wagon-top, and was standing beside him, the katana held before him, like a long, metallic silver fang. “And it’s hunting.” Comprehension dawned, and Yo-mawari paled, his black eyes darting back and forth between the small, dark figure of his meijin, and the spot on the horizon that Hiei had pointed to. “The Creature?” he asked in a soft, hoarse voice, shifting nervously. Hiei nodded sharply, then spun on his heel, in the direction of the camp. “We have to go now, before we loose its trail,” he insisted. Yo-mawari blinked, then hurried after the rapidly retreating figure. “Meijin! Matte kudasai! There’s something you need to know about ...” Hiei turned, and Yo-mawari winced as the full power of all three of the small youkai’s eyes was unleashed upon him, freezing him in place. A trickle of nervous sweat threaded its way down his brow; Hiei’s expression was almost demonic, a fey light in his eyes. “Talk fast,” he ordered, turning to face Yo-mawari, crossing his arms and glaring. The youko met the smaller youkai’s gaze evenly. “We have children to worry about.” Hiei’s eyes narrowed, but he spoke only once, his voice clipped. “Explain.” Yo-mawari sighed, running a hand through his hair, yanking the tie from the thick black mass and shaking his head in frustration, sending the long black locks to cascade around his face again. Scowling mentally, he clasped his hands behind his back and began to pace. “Yesterday,” he said, half to himself, “Yuusuke found this caravan while scouting. Everyone was dead, except for two youko kits. Twins. He felt sorry for them, and brought them back to camp ... and now we’re stuck with them.” He looked up, a brief glance to garner Hiei’s reaction. The small youkai had closed his eyes, a wry twist to his lips that almost could be called a smile. “Humans,” he said softly, shaking his head once, then opening one eye to glare at his servant. “Children or not, our priority at the moment is finding and destroying the Tamashii-Satsujinhan’nin. We can worry about those twins of Yuusuke’s later.” The youko coughed. “I’m afraid that’s impossible, Meijin-san,” he apologized. “But neither Yuusuke - nor myself, for that matter - are willing to take children into what could possibly be a fatal confrontation with that thing. We’re not inhumane; it’s just plain idiocy to take anyone that young into a battle.” “So leave Kuwabara to take care of them,” Hiei snorted. “That moron can’t do anything, so he’d be just as much of a distraction in a fight as those brats.” “That wasn’t very nice,” Yo-mawari chided, ignoring Hiei’s derisive snort. “And, anyway, against something like the Creature, we’ll need all the fighting power we can muster. And that includes Kuwabara-kun, as much as you might hate to admit it.” Hiei sighed. “All right. We’ll keep the moron with us. But we’ll have to take the brats, too.” That made him frown, but he said nothing. “Yuusuke won’t like that,” he predicted. A snort of contempt was Hiei’s only reply. Bara clung to Yuusuke’s neck, peering from behind his head and staring out at the featureless plain with wide eyes. Her small hands were fisted on the back of his shirt, clutching as much of the cloth as she could, watching curiously as the ground was eaten up under his long strides. She couldn’t understand why Yuu-chan was so upset; he had seemed just fine, before ’Wari-’niichan and the new stranger had appeared, but after the adults had spoken, Yuu-chan’s happy face had become a big frown. Bara wriggled in place, resting her cheek against his back as she sighed. She just didn’t understand adults, sometimes. Toge-’niichan was easy to understand, she thought wistfully, glancing at her brother from the corner of her eye. The older of the two twins was comfortably hanging on to Kuwabara’s neck, looking around curiously. His eyes met Bara’s, briefly, and he smiled and winked reassuringly at her. She tried to smile back, but it quickly faltered, and she looked away, curious. She could feel the anger radiating from Yuu-chan; anger and hostility, and even ... was that fear? ... all pulsing from him like a heartbeat. It made her uncomfortable, and she bit her lip, sighing unhappily. They were going somewhere bad, she knew, but that was about it. The newcomer was apparently someone that both Yuu-chan and Kuwa-chan knew; they had leapt to their feet at the sight of him, shouting his name. Hiei ... she considered the name, whispered it to herself softly. It sounded funny. She giggled, then sobered, remembering the shock that had crossed Yuu-chan’s face as they spoke. “You can’t be serious!!” he had bellowed - actually bellowed - glaring at the newcomer as she and Toge hid behind his legs. “Hiei, they’re just KIDS, for chrissakes!! You’ve gotta be fuckin’ outta your *mind*, takin’ ’em into a fight like that! Jeez! Don’t you have a heart at all?!” He had ended his tirade by going to his knees, scooping a twin in each arm and hugging them close. “I’m not gonna let you get them killed before they have a chance to live,” he had snarled, distinctly hostile, and Bara remembered whimpering as the heat of his emotions seared her. He was almost angry enough to kill. And the other youkai, the semi-stranger, had only snorted. “Your human emotions leave you weak,” he said coldly, eyeing the twins, who shrank from his cold red stare. “You want children so badly, marry Keiko and have children of your own.” That had snapped Yuu-chan’s final thread of self-control, she remembered. He had released her and her brother, storming over to Hiei, drawing his fist back and slamming the small youkai across the face. There had been a collective gasp between ’Wari-’niichan and Kuwa-chan; obviously, something was wrong about the scene. Yuu-chan had been breathing heavily, glaring with eyes that promised blood and death as he faced down the small youkai. Hiei-san had seemed unaffected by the punch, straightening and wiping the thin trail of spittle from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. However, the red gaze had softened somewhat, and a thin smile traced his lips. “Hn. Not bad,” he judged, then tilted his head downwards, looking straight at Bara and her twin. “You two,” he snapped. “What are your names?” Toge had pushed Bara behind him protectively, coming forward and facing Hiei bravely, his small ears flattened, his sharp little teeth bared as he tried to act like he truly wasn’t afraid of this strange new youkai. “Watashi no Toge desu,” he squeaked, fisting one hand and resting it against his heart. “This is m’imouto-chan, Bara.” He had squared his tiny shoulders, taking a huge breath. “Wanna make somethin’ of it?” Hiei had stared at the tiny youko kit for a few moments, and Bara could have sworn he saw the beginnings of an amused smile grace his solemn face before his carefully schooled scowl reappeared. “No, that’s all right,” he snapped. “You’re brave, I’ll give you that. But can you fight?” Toge had puffed his little chest out. “I could beat all the other kids up, if I had to,” he boasted. “And I’ll do the same to you, if you hurt Bara-’mouto-chan.” Hiei’s stern face didn’t change. “One of the most important things a fighter learns,” he said softly, “is when a fight is too great for them to handle, and when they must retreat. Do you think you would know, if it ever came to that?” Toge considered this, then nodded. “Hai.” “Good.” The black-clad youkai sauntered over to the little kit, looking down at him with closely scrutinizing red eyes for a few moments, before he went down on his knees, one hand going to his waist. From the folds of his clothing, he pulled out a small, ornate dagger - the sharp edge shone like a tiny version of the long, graceful blade that Hiei himself carried. The hilt was dark red in color, like drying blood, and set in the pommel was a single, large piece of jade; the milky green shot through with swirls of white and black. Hiei pressed the blade into Toge’s hand, watching as the kit’s hazel eyes widened in shock, his tiny hands fumbling as he accepted the gift. “Use this,” he instructed, “only when there’s no other way out. Don’t use it to hurt others unless they threaten you or your imouto. Do you understand?” Toge swallowed hard, a small squeak in the back of his throat. “Hai ...” he said, uncertainly. Hiei straightened, glaring down at the small kit, studying him closely. Finally, he nodded, almost a salute, his curiousity apparently satisfied. Yuu-chan looked almost sick, like was about to explode, or close to it. “I take back what I said earlier,” he growled in a flat tone, staring at Hiei, eyes boring holes in the small youkai’s forehead. “You’re a sick-minded bastard, givin’ a weapon to a kid like that. I’d say more, but Kurama cares for you ...” his back stiffened, “... and I respect his feelings far too much to insult the man he loves.” With that, he had stalked over, picking Bara up roughly, almost like he would a stuffed toy, slinging her across his back and turning to look at them. “Let’s go before I loose my temper and shoot something,” he snarled. Bara sighed again, snuggling closer to her large human friend’s back, absently curling one of the longer strands of his black hair between her little fingers. She stared at the red dagger-hilt that was neatly sheathed at her brother’s waist, and frowned. She didn’t like that sight; for some reason, the idea that her brother carried a deadly weapon unnerved her; though she knew he would never use it against her, it made her terribly uneasy. Once more, his gold-green eyes slid in her direction, half-closed and drowsy. He smiled at her again, nodding slightly, and she barely managed to muster a returning echo of the expression. His hazel eyes slid closed fully, his small body relaxing, lulled to sleep by the steady movement and the unbroken rhythm of Kuwabara’s strides. Bara pulled away slightly from Yuusuke’s back, tilting her small face upwards, only mildly curious, watching the sun in the pale blue sky, wreathed by a layer of thin white clouds, like smoke. It seemed to wink at her; a giant eye of hammered gold, sparkling cheerfully, hot and just like the day her parents had died. She shuddered at the memory, leaning back towards Yuusuke and closing her eyes. She had never seen Mama so terrified, or Papa so angry. They had darted along nervously, occasionally whipping the cart-pullers with a frenzy she had never known them to possess. But even all their precautions and worry had not saved them; at noon, when the shadows were at their lowest point, the air had been rent by a blood-chilling scream, and the world had stood still. Her mind pulled away immediately from that; the mental blocks of her child’s psyche would not allow her to dwell on that for too long. She shuddered slightly, twisting her hands into the clothe of Yuusuke’s shirt, and sighed, resting her cheek against the back of his head. Soon, her mind was wandering again, and she forgot of her darker thoughts ... except for the knife. Even when she dozed off, the last thing she saw before slipping into a comfortable haze was the green jade of the pommel-stone, glittering at her like a miniature emerald sun. Hiei walked a few feet ahead of everyone else, keeping his eyes trained on that spot in the distance, watching with both his physical eyes, and the Jagan embedded in his forehead. On the dark line of the horizon, he could sense a fluctuation of pure ki; energy that warped back in on itself, like a black hole, dreadful and familiar. It was the same feeling that he had gotten a brief sensation of, back on that night - had it only been a week or so ago? - when the slavering, empty-eyed monster had attacked and nearly destroyed one of the few good constants in his life ... His red eyes narrowed briefly in the memory, heated anger warring with a cold caution that warned him against anything rash. There were two who expected him back; two that he would rather die than hurt. His sister’s pretty little face hovered briefly in his mind’s eye, and behind her, the laughing, warm beauty of a redheaded human’s amused smile and bright green eyes. No. Dying was not an option. It might have been, in the past, but now his life was different. He had changed. More than anyone would have ever believed. A light breeze struck up, ruffling the more disobidient black strands of his hair, the tips skirting around the revealed blue-green glow of the active Jagan. He kept his pace unbroken, never slowing or stopping as he approached that void of sensation, the barely-moving dot that his anger had fixated itself on. The hand of the warded arm fisted, and he could almost hear the Kokuryuuha’s hungry screams in the back of his mind, the dragon of black fire hungry and eager for a fresh victim. The light of the late afternoon sun was intense, illuminating the six of them like the tiny pawns on a giant, featureless chessboard. No words were exchanged as they walked, four of them quietly occupied by thoughts of the upcoming fight; two lost in the blissful innocence of a child’s dreamworld. Yuusuke’s eyes slide to one side, studying the redhilted dagger that was tucked so carefully into the cord that served as Toge’s belt. He just didn’t like the idea of someone so young holding a weapon; though he was pretty sure that the kit had more sense than to go waving it around for the hell of it, it still worried him immensely. He looked so damn innocent - and he was - sleeping on Kuwabara’s back, his small, childish face relaxed, his thumb resting close to his mouth, his white hair falling in a messy fringe over his closed eyes. Yuusuke smiled, slightly; how come little kids were always so damn cute? he wondered, turning his view back to the wide expanse of the field that Hiei was leading them across, squinting at the brightness of the sunlight. He shifted his tiny burden slightly, feeling Bara’s soft sigh as her small hands tightened their grip on his shirt, briefly, then relaxed. He chuckled, dryly, to himself. Way too cute for their own good. Hiei suddenly froze, jerking to a stop, and the others did the same, watching their small companion worriedly. The red eyes were narrowed in a bitter anger and a consuming hatred that smoldered like banked coals, their gaze sharp and probing as they roamed the nearby hills. His hand flew to the hilt of his katana, the bandaged hand fisting tightly around the smooth black handle and pulling it out of its sheath with a single, smooth, motion, holding it before him. Yuusuke swore, mentally, even as he knelt, shrugging Bara from his shoulders and cradling the baby girl in his arms. Kuwabara and Yo-mawari looked equally troubled, the taller, black-haired youko stepping forward to gently take Toge from Kuwabara. Black eyes slid to watch Hiei’s tense stature, and his expression darkened. “Nanda, Meijin-san?” he whispered in a low, hoarse voice. Hiei didn’t answer at first, tilting his face upwards to study the cloudless, heated blue sky. “It’s coming,” was his final and only answer. The Hunger was starting again. It defined its existence, ripping and tearing, gnawing at its innards. The thing stumbled forward, blindly, feeling the Hunger sawing away at it. It whimpered, a sound that was curiously suited for its grotesque appearence as it shambled along. Not enough; the souls consumed would never be enough to make up for the lack of not having one. The Hunger. And then, it felt the shimmering, siren call of warmth; *real* warmth, not like the superficial glare of the sun. And the haunting, tantilizing cry of souls ... eagerly, it stumbled towards the sweet song, reaching outwards with greedy, clutching hands. The Hunger would be appeased, soon, very soon, if only for a short while ... Hiei’s frown darkened, his body tensing further as his eyes narowed into mere slits of burning red. Closer, now; he could feel it approaching; it’s clumsy, shuffling gait that pulled it closer to them. And he smiled, a feral grin that curved his mouth in a frightening, demonic expression. Soon now, he soothed the blood-lust that raged inside him like a beast, calming the insistent desire to see the Creature that had dared raise a hand against Kurama dead. And, curled like a snake around his arm, the Kokuryuuha tatoo began to glow. There. The Hunger-appeaser stood there. Small, but the Creature didn’t note that. All it knew was that the glowing aura that surrounded this little one seemed larger than anything he had ever seen in his life; a pure, steady glow of power that would have intimidated anyone but the Hunger. All the Creature saw, with its hunger-glazed eyes, was something that might, just might, forever dampen the raw, painful feeling of emptiness and hunger it always felt. It gathered itself, and leapt. And the Hunger-appeaser whirled, lightening fast, and suddenly, cold steel connected with the deadly claws, chipping into the jagged green length of poison-filled digits. With a howl of frustration, the thing drew back and slashed again, madly, blindly, only to realize that its target no longer stood before it. Cold steel dug deeply into toughened flesh, leaving a long, narrow cut of green against gray skin. The thing turned, lumbering along clumsily, watching as the small, dark figure danced back, out of reach, the almost painfully strong aura flaring even brighter. Once more, the dim thought of ending the Hunger, at last, filled its mind, and it lurched forward, claws glittering at its victim once more avoided the clumsy attack. Hiei snorted in disgust as he brought the katana up to bear again. This was surprisingly easy, avoiding the thing’s attacks while he searched for a weak spot. Around him, he could hear Yuusuke’s voice, taking on the sharp tone of instinctive command, the young human barking orders as the other two scrambled to obey. He heard Bara’s small voice, raised in a cry of fear that was promptly muffled; he heard Yo-mawari’s hissed order for silence, and Toge’s soft murmur, and dodged yet another swipe. As he thrust again with the katana, swearing mentally when the thing disregarded his thrusts, he could feel the flare of you-ki as his servant changed, the darker, more familiar human form bleaching, black fading to gray and then to silver, black eyes shimmering and narrowing into slits of gold. The graceful, lightly-furred ears twitched once, testing the sounds and the wind, and then the youko leapt, taking advantage of the slight opening the Creature had left, in its single-minded pursuit of the small fire demon. Yuusuke swore viciously to himself as he stared, watching the two youkai circling, darting in for attacks that were all but useless. Almost frantic, remembering the outcome of their last encounter with the Creature, he tried to think of anything that could be of help. The metal swords were obviously not doing any good, but what if ... “Kuwabara!” The taller man’s eyes met his, briefly, and understanding flashed, the orange head nodding once in silent agreement as a fist clenched, and the orange flare of rei-ki appeared, shaping into a jagged-edged sword. The summoning shout was lost in a war-cry as Kuwabara ran forward, thrusting hard and fast, placing a fast, hard burst of strength into the movement. The sword of light met resistence, but only briefly, then slid smoothly in, like a stick through water. The Creature paused in mid-swing, looking down in surprise at the human that it dwarfed so easily. As if in afterthought, it swung its huge fist again, the back of one large “hand” catching Kuwabara in the stomach and sending him tumbling backwards, the Rei-Ken sliding out as easily as it had slid in. After a few moments of lying still, gasping in short, awkward breaths, he was back on his feet again, scowling darkly. Yuusuke swore again, louder this time. This was not working, and he had just run out of ideas. Briefly, he wished Kurama could have been there, to lend his wider experience to this battle, but immediately quenched the thought at the memory of sharp claws ripping into vunerable flesh and leaving a trail of blood as red as ningen-Kurama’s hair. He clenched his hand, like a child with a play-gun, watching nervously as Yo-mawari’s hand flashed, flinging three lifeless black shurikens at the Creature, each bouncing off the tough skin and falling to the ground with dull thuds. The Creature whirled on the slender, quicksilver figure, lashing out at the blur, not seeming to realize when the youko leapt over him, flipping easily to land beside Yuusuke. “Any suggestions?” he asked, his voice light, but his eyes deadly serious as he scanned the battle. Kuwabara had charged again, narrowly being missed by the deadly arc of claws. Yuusuke snarled something and shook his head, fiercly. “None!” he spat, trying to get a better aim, then loosing his temper as Kuwabara unwittingly moved into his field of vision again. “Get outta the way, ya moron!” he shouted, dashing forward. His hands lifted, index finger pointing as he gripped his wrist. “REI-GAN!” he nearly bellowed, feeling the energy inside him gather and surge out, concentrating into a pinpoint of blue-white energy and striking the Creature in the dead center of its back. It howled, then turned, jaws snapping, eyes wide and angry with a nameless hunger and a burning hatred. Yuusuke mentally quailed under the sight; the eyes seemed to encompass his entire world, fixing him in place, hypnotic in the swirls of unidentified emotion swirling within. Unknowingly, he dropped his hands and his shoulders sagged slightly, bemused by the thing’s glare. “K’so ... Urameshi! This is no time to go to sleep!” Kuwabara’s rough voice cut into his thoughts, and he jerked to awareness in time to see the thing galloping towards him, ignoring the sudden slices across its skin and the bleeding wounds that a twin pair of katanas opened in its flesh. Yuusuke let out a startled yelp and leapt out of the way, desperately, bringing his hands before him again and pointing. “Rei ...” he began, then was cut off as one huge clawed hand came bearing down at him. He rolled free just before his flesh would have been sliced, then flipped to a crouching position, watching nervously, his heart pounding in the memory of how dangerously close he had been to death. Don’t look at its eyes, he reminded himself. Don’t look in its eyes, and you’ll be safe. He got to his feet, still somewhat shaky, wishing, for one of the first times in his life, that his weapon could be something like Kuwabara’s; a sword that he could use more easily than a gun. He kicked at the ground in frustration, watching as the Creature turned its attention back to Hiei, chasing after the tiny youkai single-mindedly as any shoujo had pursued Minamino Shuuichi. The thought wrang a choked laugh from him, high-pitched and nearly hysterical, and he frowned at himself for his behavior. Yo-mawari paused, suddenly, standing on the skirts of the Creature’s range, bending swiftly, his fingers brushing the ground lightly, a seemingly pointless gesture. But when he straightened, his golden eyes flashing, Yuusuke could see a smug grin of triumph as the youko lifted his katana again, leaping forward. Like a flash of silver-toned lightening, he moved, and as the Creature snarled again, his hands moved, sending a tiny black shuriken at him, something small and yellow-white gleaming and barely visible on one of the sharp metal prongs. The blades dug into the exposed chest, and the thing shrieked in pain, the hideous cry echoing in the still, hot air, as the Creature tried to confront this new pain, heedless of the slowly dripping wounds across its wide gray chest. Yuusuke shifted nervously on his feet, his hands still twisted in the ready position for the rei-gun, the finger quivering slightly from tension. Any ... second ... now ... Something small and dark flew through the air, clattering at his feet with a metallic chink. He risked a brief glance, then frowned at what he saw. The dagger, the beautiful, red-hilted dagger with its fat jade pommel-stone, the same dagger that Hiei had given to Toge, now lay at his feet. He knelt, swiftly, picking the blade up, and glancing around worriedly. At first, he saw nothing in the late afternoon brightness, and then a small, white object nearby twitched, like the flicker of a fox’s ear. Toge’s eyes met his, wide and frightened, but with an underlying determination that Yuusuke had to respect in one so young. “Use it,” the kit mouthed silently, waving one small hand, then ducking behind the relative safety of the rock once more, allowing him to return his full attention to the battle. Hiei’s right arm was now freed of any trailing bandages, and the dark tatoo writhed against Hiei’s pale flesh, the inked jaws opening and snapping shut with silent violence, hungry and eager to be released. The fire youkai’s eyes had narrowed to mere slits of bright red, and one side of his mouth quirked in what seemed like a chuckle of contempt. He continued to avoid the Creature’s wide swipes, biding his time, restraining the Dragon’s desperate attempts to writhe to freedom. Yuusuke stared down at the dagger in his hands, and back up at the fight; watched as the smallest of his friends and companions dodged, thrusting low into the thing’s belly, scoring another wicked gash and the same chilling shriek. Swallowing hard, he lifted his hand, aiming like an archer aiming for a target. Almost unconsciously, his fists began to glow, suffused with the power of his heightened battle aura, and then he moved. It was a swift, smooth motion, so easily completed that he blinked in surprise when he stepped back, watching his projectile slice through the air, embedding itself into the tender, exposed flesh of one large shoulder. The Creature jerked, gnashing its teeth, and whirled to confront Yuusuke. He never had a chance to blink, startled at its seemingly impervious reaction to pain. The claws flashed, flying at him the wrong way, and suddenly, he found himself flying. Bara’s scream shrilled through the air, less loud and hideous as the Creature’s wail, but it cut Yuusuke much more painfully than the remembered horror of that blood-chilling shriek. Toge’s voice raised soon afterwards, each kit crying his name as they watched, horrified, as he hid the ground and went sliding. He felt was something hard and unyielding connect with his head, and then there was only an encompassing darkness. The last recollection he had, before blackness swallowed him entirely, was a small, childish voice calling his name. “Yuu-chan? Yuu-chan? Yuu-chan, get up, get up ...” Hiei saw Yuusuke go down, but continued to restrain himself, despite the increase in the volume of the Dragon’s wails. He could see the sunlight sparking off a trickle of red against Yuusuke’s brow - the human had hit his head on a rock, from what he could see - and the two small white figures of the youko kits as they slipped out from their pitiful hiding place and ran to the unconscious man’s aid. Yo-mawari paused briefly, worriedly, and Hiei hissed at him, mentally. :Keep your eyes on the fight, ’Wari! We can worry about him later!: The youko’s body snapped to full attention at that, his golden eyes narrowing. :Hai!: he responded curtly, hand dipping for the last of his shurikens and flinging it at the Creature. The thing merely dodged, shrugging off the numerous bleeding wounds without comment. Once more, its empty, hungry violet eyes turned in Hiei’s direction, seeing the small youkai, and the brilliant flare of his aura, encreased by a ten-fold, with the barely-leashed power of the Kokuryuuha hovering so close to the surface. It began to lumber forward, claws held high in anticipation. Now. Hiei almost smiled, raising his arm. The Dragon’s triumphant, keening shriek in his ears drowned out everything else; he didn’t hear Yo-mawari’s stunned warning, or Kuwabara’s surprised squeak; nor did he see the youko throw an arm out, as a barrier to keep Kuwabara from stumbling too close. He didn’t see the kits huddling close together beside Yuusuke’s head, watching him with frightened, wide green-gold eyes. His mouth moved, but the cry in his ears and the pounding of his heart drowned out the sound of his own voice. The shirt on his back ripped as he lifted his arms, bringing the fists together, the dark fire scorching the cloth to ashes. The Dragon lifted its head from his arm, detatching itself, rippling free from its wards like a snake wriggled free of its shed skin. The Kokuryuuha’s blank, blinding red eyes focused on the Tamashii-Satsujinhan’nin, jaws snapping in a fiendish anticipation. The Creature stumbled, perhaps awed by the sheer display of power. Maybe, somewhere in the shattered remaints of a conscious, in that tiny remaining spark of intelligence, it had realized it had gone too far. Hiei didn’t know, and didn’t care. He was beyond that; the power of the Kokuryuuha filled his mind and wiped it clean, the pumping rush of adrenaline surging through him, like no human’s drug could ever hope to compare to. In his mind’s eye, he briefly saw a dim, featureless figure, tall and slender, long hair swirling around his slim body. :For my life ...: a voice he knew whispered in his head, but he was too far gone to place it. His voice rose to a shriek as he set the Kokuryuuha free, speaking its name and allowing it to rip itself fully from his arm, the one main head splitting into three, then four, twining their serpentine necks around each other as they made a beeline for their target. Their keening cries filled the air, a rising counterpoint to the Creature’s bellow, and then they struck. Most would have been destroyed the moment they were engulfed by the Kokuryuuha’s immense power. But the Creature only staggered, claws slicing at the necks of the four dragons, meeting no real substance, sending flickering trails of black fire flickering around its head and hands. The dragons persisted, their open, jagged-toothed mouths snapping eagerly, hungry for blood, for anything. Hiei watched this all with an unchanging face, though inside, a fierce grin spread across his features. Yes, he mentally urged, his left fist clenching. Yes. Kill it. Destroy it. Extract the vengeance that I could not. Bara clung to her twin, terrified as she watched Hiei-san release a raging thing of pure energy; her emphatic senses reeled and spun at the pure rush she felt; and the dark pleasure Hiei-san seemed to be radiating was just as troubling. The Creature that had destroyed her village, killed her family as they had tried to flee, was being punished, pushed back by the sheer force of the dragons’ you-ki. The Creature finally seemed to stumble, going down on one knee, raising its claws for one last, final show of defiance. The dragons closed in, sensing the kill was at hand, their slender bodies surrounding and engulfing the Creature, hiding it from view. And then ... Bara winced, her hand tightening its grip on Toge’s arm as he stroked her forehead soothingly. There was a keening, dying wail that resounded in her mind, a thousand times louder and more horrible than anything the Creature had ever emitted during life. The tiny empath closed her eyes tightly, unaware that her own small voice had risen in a counterpoint scream, pained and terrified as she went to her knees, releasing her brother’s arm to clench her tiny hands into fists and press them againsther temples. It hurt; it hurt very badly, and she wanted to go home now ... she wanted for everything to be over and she wanted it to be a bad dream, so that when she opened her eyes again, Okaachan would come and rock her to sleep, soothing her fears with a mother’s gentle touch. She didn’t want to be here, where this thing’s dying moan had nearly ripped her mind in half; she wanted to go home, she wanted to go to bed, she wanted ... she wanted everything to be right, so that she wouldn’t have to worry any more. Toge continued to stroke his sister’s hair, ignoring the growing ache in his arm, where her fingers had dug in tightly enough to draw blood, the red liquid pooling around several dark, violet-blue bruises that showed vividly against his white skin. Right now, all he was worried about was Bara; she was still crying, still shaking, and he wanted her to stop that. In his child’s mind, if Bara-chan wasn’t smiling, there had to be something very wrong with the world at large. He watched, wide-eyed, as Hiei’s small, dark, menacing figure stepped forward, his bare chest heaving with a visible effort, eyes closed as his lips moved again. The four dragons looked up from their ghastly feast, writhing in defiance as Hiei called them back to their place, the many converging into one and wrapping themselves back around his arm. The terrible gleam in Hiei’s eyes, the blazing energy that had kept him on his feet until that moment, seemed to leave his body in one single breath, and the little Koorime slumped, sliding to his knees and bowing his head. Yo-mawari approached him cautiously, his silver form shrinking and darkening, the dark-haired human kneeling beside his master. “Meijin?” he said quietly, his low voice jarringly out of place after the shrieks and screams that had echoed during the fight. One hand reached out, hesitantly slow, touching Hiei’s shoulder, pulling back immediately when the small youkai jerked, his head snapping up and red eyes wild as he stared blankly at Yo-mawari for a few moments. Then, once more, Hiei slumped, and his voice was a hoarse, barely-audible and rough with a tense exhaustion. “It’s finished,” he grated out. “Contact Koenma and tell him that he can the damned clean-up crews now, ’cause the dirty work’s been done.” He slumped forward, barely stopped in time by Yo-mawari’s quick hands. Deftly, the youko laid his master out, his hands dancing as he re-wrapped the arm and replaced the wards that held the Dragon in check. Hiei made no protest, his eyes closed and breathing even, as he slept off the exhaustion that the mere summoning of the Kokuryuuha had caused. It was over, he thought, echoing Hiei’s words in his mind, eyes wandering over to the remains. He shuddered, immediately turning his face away; there was not much left, other than a scorched, ripped, and bloody carcass. And despite the disgust that made his stomach roll, he couldn’t help but feeling a hot blaze of true satisfaction; that the Creature had suffered for its crimes, he had no doubt. The Kokuryuuha was devastating, and those it consumed had no chance for redemption in the Reikai. Poetic justice, he thought, somewhat whimsically; that a beast that ended all chance for reincarnation died in the same way its victims had. Kuwabara shuffled up behind him, and he glanced sharply at the large human, before shouldering his master’s slight body and standing, shifting slightly to accomodate the added weight. He nodded in Yuusuke’s direction. Bara looked up wildly at their approach, her green-gold eyes dark and pained. Her small hands were still fisted at her temples, shaking slightly, and Toge glared superiorly at them, in silent warning. When they paid no heed, he stepped boldly before his sister and Yuusuke’s prone body, crossing his arms defiantly. “I know ya might be Yuu-kun’s friends,” he piped, “but if you guys come any closer, I’ll rip your heads off.” He sniffed, trying to appear confident. Yo-mawari smiled, gently, kneeling down so that he was almost on eye-level with the child. “Toge-kun,” he said seriously, though his black eyes were twinkling with amusement, “Bara-chan is very lucky to have someone like you looking after her. Ne, Kuwabara-kun?” he looked up and winked at the human, who grinned back, nodding seriously. Black eyes slid back to study the kit’s face, as the older youko spoke again. “But, there’s a problem: how can we help your sister and Yuusuke-kun if you stand in the way?” Toge frowned, but stepped back, slightly, allowing them access to Yuusuke’s body, but still not moving from his hovering postion in front of his sister. Yo-mawari probed the wound lightly with his free hand, the left hand resting against Hiei’s back, supporting the unconscious youkai that lay on his shoulder in a deadweight. The gash wasn’t anything serious, despite the blood; just a superficial cut. He was confident his human friend would be awake in an hour or so, with a fierce headache and a sense of vague satisfaction, knowing he had missed the spectacle of the Creature’s death. He finally stood, looking down at the two kits, then up at the sun, which had now sunk low in the horizon; the beginnings of dusk were now streaking the sky. “I suppose we’ll have to stay here for the night, minna-san,” he said softly, then glanced at the Creature’s remains. “But let’s try and get as far away from this as we can before setting up camp. The scavengers will be hunting, tonight.” Kuwabara nodded ascent, moving forward to shoulder Yuusuke’s limp body. Bara allowed herself to be tugged to her feet by her brother’s hands, her shoulders drooping, her entire form still somewhat listless after the memory of the Tamashii-Satsujinhan’nin’s dying wail, her ears still twitching from remembered fear and pain. Her child’s mind was slow to file away the grief of the traumatizing experience, but, even as he watched, she perked up, smiling slightly in return for her brother’s playful teasing. For a moment, he stood there, merely watching the sight; two children at play, untroubled by the sorrows and burdens that came with age, and with maturity. For them, the Creature’s terrible appearence and the intense gravity of the situation would soon be vaguely remembered, an uncomfortable memory that the mind of an innocent could not fully comprehend. There was a vague twinge of regret, of an almost-envy that he promptly squashed, ignoring it resolutely. He could not begrudge them their childhood, not when his own had been cut painfully short. Toge’s small hands grabbed Bara’s tail, tugging firmly, and causing his female twin to yelp in surprise as she slapped at his hands, turning to confront him, tackling him and sending them tumbling in a giggling heap to the ground. Yo-mawari chuckled at the sight; a low, deep rumble in the back of his throat, eyes narrowed in soft, affectionate amusement as they tussled. Finally, he came forward, bending at the waist, sliding an arm around Toge’s small waist and bodily lifting the small kit into the air, ignoring the squeaked protest. Bara sat up, rubbing at the base of her right ear, looking somewhat sheepish as she blinked up at him, focusing on his face, barely visible in the dying light. “I meant what I said earlier,” he told them, as seriously as he could manage. “There will be night-scavengers, soon. They will have sensed the kill, and though I despite there are any who could stomach the Creature’s venom, they will come, and they will be hungry. More likely than not, they will be upset at being cheated of their easy meal, and come after the next closest thing, alive or not. And that, at the moment,” he waved his arms to emphasize his point, “is us.” Bara scrambled to her feet, looking around nervously, her small ears twitching, trying to catch the sounds of imagined bogeymen, and he almost laughed. She was barely visible in the growing darkness; it was only the dimming light that shone off the bright color of her fur and hair that marked her presence, like a tiny wreath of glowing smoke. He set Toge down carefully, nodding to Kuwabara and shifting Hiei’s weight on his shoulder again, and starting the steps that would lead them down the path and back to Kuraihana’s home.