InuYasha Fan Fiction / Yu Yu Hakusho Fan Fiction ❯ The Phoenix ❯ The Harvest of Souls ( Chapter 4 )

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//The Phoenix\\

§The Harvest of Souls§

 

 

“Death most resembles a profit who is without honor in his own land or a poet who is a stranger among his people.”

--Kahlil Gibran

 

 

“No, seriously, I'm not at all bitter about the fact that you clubbed me with a frying pan, a hot frying pan, more times than I can remember,” Yusuke grumbled, glaring at the apologizing girl next to him. His pride refused him the opportunity to rub the bumps on his head or the slightly burned side of his face from the contact with the heated cookware. “Really, I forgive you,” he added for good measure, though it still managed to sound sardonic.

 

“I mean it! I really am sorry!” Keiko persisted, clutching a bag full of her smaller clothes. Puu stuck his head out at the added pressure, but neither Yusuke nor Keiko paid him much mind as he usually found some way to be somewhere he probably should not. The small blue spirit beast looked slightly frazzled from being hidden in a pile of clothes. “It's just that the way you asked…” she let the sentence trail before picking up a different one. “And how was I to know that the frying pan was hot?”

 

Yusuke turned to his girlfriend, fixing her with a slightly bewildered glare and a raised brow. “Well, for one it was on the stove,” he pointed out, his voice eerily calm. Puu was looking at Keiko dubiously, reflecting the inner-Yusuke.

 

“That doesn't mean that it was necessarily on!” Keiko defended.

 

“Then there was the fact that there was a sizzling omelet sitting on top.”

 

“…”

 

“Oh,” the detective continued, “and let's not forget that you were the one holding the spatula and wearing the `Kiss the Cook' apron.”

 

“…I told that I'm sorry though! What do I have to do to get you to forgive me?” his girlfriend pleaded. He looked at Keiko for a long moment before sighing.

 

“First thing you can do is swear on your life that you will never use cooking utensils for something that they aren't made for,” he bargained.

 

Keiko readily nodded. “Of course, I promise.” Yusuke smirked slyly.

 

“What do you promise?” he asked, the hints of childish teasing clearly audible.

 

Keiko sighed and rolled her eyes. “I, Yukimura Keiko, swear upon my life to you, Urameshi Yusuke, to never use cooking utensils outside of their initial purposes ever again in my natural born existence,” she swore, crossing her arms over her chest as best she could while holding a bag. “Happy?”

 

“I don't know,” Yusuke said slowly. “You didn't sound very meaningful…” Keiko glared at him, the promise of a painful demise clear in her deep cinnamon orbs, “…but I suppose it will due!” he quickly amended. Keiko humphed and turned her head to the side. “You also have to make me a dinner whenever I ask for thirteen weeks.”

 

“What? Why thirteen?” his girlfriend demanded. Yusuke smirked again.

 

“Simple, that's the number of times I actually remember being hit.”

 

§

 

The sharp staccato of knuckles against wood rang throughout the living room. Kagome shot up from her light doze, curious as to when exactly she fell asleep. Kazuma stood to answer the door, exiting to the hall. She heard the entry open before the loud laughter of her host overtook all other sounds.

 

“Dammit, Kuwabara! Shut the fuck up!” Yusuke's voice boomed over the mirth. Kagome looked at the threshold to the living room in confusion, waiting for someone to pass through and hopefully then she would get an idea of the happenings outside her vision. Her patience was well rewarded.

 

“I suppose you're gonna laugh, too,” Yusuke accused, arms folded crossly over his chest. Kuwabara's laughter thoroughly pissed him off, and he'd be damned if he had to hear it from anyone else.

 

Kagome was rather shocked at his appearance. The left side of his face was red with first-degree burn, and his head was littered with bumps made of blunt force. “What happened to you?” she asked, rushing to stand up, immediately regretting it at the sharp pain that spread throughout her back and she fell back into her chair. Her eyes were closed when she felt pain, but her senses felt Yusuke and Kazuma come up near her, and a smaller energy—feminine—standing behind and feeling very uncomfortable, and another energy almost identical to Yusuke, but it was more…bird-like and was without the human element. She shook her head to clear it and opened her eyes.

 

Azure eyes took upon the young woman in the corner. Dark brown eyes met her gaze, and her peripheral vision caught matching hair, not as long as hers but still well passed the shoulders. Kagome was definitely shorter, but was more developed—she snorted mentally when she realized that Yusuke was pretty much dead on in his presumptions, as embarrassing as it is to admit. Kagome glanced at the bag the other girl was clutching, noticing the clothes that were peeking over the top. She moved her gaze from the girl to Yusuke, which brought her attention to the blue creature on his head.

 

It was small, only about perhaps thirty centimeters tall, with somewhat dark blue feathers covering its body, but a small powder blue above his stomach. Its black eyes matched the tuft of hair on the top of its head, and his little beak mouth was a pale yellow like its feet.

 

Kagome looked Yusuke in the eyes before turning to look at Kazuma, then to the girl in the corner and back to the creature on Yusuke's head. Her mind quickly assessed the fact that the girl didn't seem surprised to see the penguin-like animal and took that as a good sign that it was safe to do what she had planned on doing before her wounds got in the way.

 

There were two things that Kagome prided herself on while in the Sengoku Jidai: barriers and healing. While training with Sango on becoming a taijiya, Miroku had tried to educate Kagome on using her hama no reiyoku in battle. The problem is—and this is why mikos tend to learn from other mikos—that reiki and hama no reiyoku are different on more levels then the fact that one purifies. Hama no reiyoku is, apparently, very individualistic in nature; that is to say that it depends on the wielder how to use it and a miko can't really just be given a sensei and hope for the best. So, while Miroku taught her very thoroughly how to control normal reiki, any and all attempts to do so with her hama no reiyoku quite literally blew up in her face.

 

Barriers came accidentally to her, but after repeated attacks and accidental shields, Kagome managed to produce one of her own volition, and became rather proficient at doing it. She had automatically set one on her mind, the ordeal with Goshinki far from forgotten. Healing, however, came to her naturally after breaking through on a bit of her untamed power.

 

Kagome brought her hands to Yusuke's face, gently gripping the sides of his cheeks. She grasped some of her power and separated the purification energy before bringing it to her hands. She was dimly aware of the surprised looks heading in her direction but paid them no heed as she released the violet aura into Yusuke's wounds, the color dark without the purity. The burn and bumps healed quickly with the encouragement Kagome provided, and she placed her hands down in her lap. Despite herself, Kagome smirked. “Oh yeah, I still got it.”

 

Yusuke and Kazuma kept looking at her oddly, mouths ajar, trying to form words only to have them repeatedly die on their lips. The girl still looked surprised, but seemed to be handling it better than the guys when she asked, “How…did you do that?”

 

Kagome looked passed Yusuke to her, giving a small smile. “It's just some basic healing, or basic for me anyway. My brand of healing is different from the typical means that others use because of the nature of my energy. I'm Higurashi Kagome, nice to meet you. I take it you're his girlfriend?” she assumed, indicating to Yusuke who took a seat on the couch beside Kazuma.

 

“Yeah, my name is Yukimura Keiko,” she bowed in greeting, before taking a seat next to Yusuke, nudging him in the ribs to snap him out of his daze. Kagome watched amused as he in turn roughly elbowed Kazuma.

 

“Why the hell did you do that, Urameshi?!” Kazuma yelled, rising to his feet in preparation for a fight. Yusuke stood as well, glaring at his friend, the blue creature toppling from his head before using its floppy ears to fly around the room, `Puu'-ing excitedly.

 

“I wouldn't have had to do that if you had stopped staring, baka!” Yusuke shot back.

 

`Well, at least they're acting normally again,' the miko thought wryly, putting her hands over her eyes to rub any sleep still in them. A weight fell on her head and she froze in her actions, slowly trying to look up even though she knew it to be pointless. “What the…”

 

“Puu!”

 

§

 

“It is official, my incarnate is a disgrace,” Kikyo muttered. She looked away from the scene the Mirror of the Void was representing as four of her shinidamachuu returned, each with a soul of the dead. They released the souls and the kuromiko absorbed them eagerly. “It has truly been much too long since I felt the freshness of a newly dead human soul,” she mused wistfully. The pale-green youkai danced around their mistress before flying off and disappearing in the sky, searching for more of her sustenance.

 

Kikyo stepped out of the trees that surrounded the park, letting the noon-high sun heat her clay skin. There were so many children around, so many young little souls rip for the picking. Taking a seat on a lone bench in the shade, her brown eyes narrowed as she observed the innocent youths. I despise them, she thought vehemently. They can live, age, love and be merry. I cannot.

 

Five hundred years she has wandered in melancholy, only receiving a small, sadistic amusement every time she extinguished the life of another, like those useless Reikai Tantei. Wouldn't that pitiful Koenma learn that she is above such petty means of defense?

 

It matters not though; she'll still hit them where it hurts. It would be entertaining.

 

She looked to the Mirror again, letting her energy flow to show her what she willed. Her reflection changed to show an older woman with brown eyes and long, ebony hair sitting in an office, going over forms and writing something down every now and then. “Hatanaka Shiori,” Kikyo whispered. “I wonder how you will react to your son being sullied by a kitsune soul?” The dark priestess had a special hatred for foxes in particular, thanks to the kit that had meant the world to her incarnate. Dispelling the thought, she changed the image.

 

The scene of one Hatanaka Shiori at the office changed to that of a young girl with sea foam green hair and crimson eyes sweeping some dirt on the shrine steps. Her soft, pretty face accentuated with a peaceful smile that caused Kikyou to scowl. “And you, Yukina of the Koorime, how will you handle the fact that your dear brother is the murdering, thieving Forbidden Child? I think…I'll kill you in front of him. Kami knows that you should both suffer for being disgusting youkai,” she accused. Instead of changing, the view simply moved over the shrine before locating an old woman meditating in the gardens. “Out of respect the exorcisms you have done, Genkai, I shall save you for last.” Again, the image shifted.

 

“Urameshi Atsuko, drunk again I see,” Kikyo spat at the image of the tipsy, yet pretty woman. If I were a mother, I would have taken care of my child. Not let him associate with demons. You damnable woman…birthing a child with a bit of youkai blood. Disgusting. She moved the image angrily to show a young woman cutting hair in a salon.

 

“Kuwabara Shizuru, you'll pay as well. How dare you help my youkai-loving incarnate? She deserves the death I can give her.” And once again, the scene changed to show Kagome dressing with the assistance of one Yukimura Keiko. Kikyo chuckled darkly. “I'll give you until midnight to pull together your forces, Reikai, before I start my official harvesting.”

 

§

 

The Tokyo Branch of the National Police Agency was a place that Kagome had never seen as foreboding before, but now it stood looming over her, daring her courage to enter. All day she has been feeling a pull at her heart, but passed it off as anxiety over this meeting.

 

Kazuma and Yusuke stood on either side of her, and for that she was grateful. They had long since ceased their quarrel and flanked her stoically like bodyguards. Kagome's first step was aided with the Kiseki-Jihi at her hand as a stabilizer, keeping her from wobbling.

 

Inside the station, officers were going over case files, chatting with teammates, and sipping coffee. Yusuke scoffed. “Figures, they act all tough when they're out on the streets but they get all chummy with their buddies between murderers and pick-pockets.”

 

“Relax, Yusuke,” Kagome whispered. “Police officers are people, too. Not everyone is out to get you.” Her companions snorted in disbelief. She looked to them and frowned. “Well, I'm not out to get you,” she promised quietly.

 

Yusuke smirked. “Making sweet pledges of alliance won't get you out of telling us how you healed my face,” he murmured. Kagome smiled innocently.

 

“Who's hiding? I'm a miko,” she said simply before stepping up to one of the receptionists, leaving two very shocked young men behind her. Well, it was a pretty blunt answer, the miko amended as Yusuke and Kazuma moved to catch up with her. “Hello, I was wondering if it were possible to talk to the detective in charge of the Higurashi case?” she asked the woman pleasantly. The woman looked at her oddly.

 

“I'll have to ask you to give us the sword for your time here, miss,” the receptionist, Sakiko if the nameplate was any indication, requested. Kagome's taijiya-trained eyes noticed that some of the officers had stopped their chatting and were going for their gun holsters. Suddenly feeling very stupid as to forget that she was using a sword as a crutch, the miko braced herself with her free hand on the desk before casting a quick illusion on the katana, inspired suddenly by the Tessaiga. She placed the sword on the desk with a sad smile. The receptionist looked at her curiously before asking, “Can you really use that?”

 

The miko allowed a small smirk to flash through her smile before returning it to its original state. Swordsmanship was one of her specialties, along with archery, and something that she rather excelled in, and she eventually surpassed Sango by branching out and taking the taijiya sword forms and the forms her father taught her before he died when she was eight to a whole new level with her other katana—though, admittedly, it was rather difficult not to with the additional…features that the Shinkirou had. “If you mean, `Do you practice swordsmanship?' then yes. However, if you mean, “Can you use this sword at this given moment?' then no,” Kagome answered cryptically.

 

The receptionist, as well as Yusuke, Kazuma, and all the other people listening to the happenings, looked at her oddly. “What do you mean?”

 

Kagome allowed her smile to widen. “Well, for one, this is a police station, and I don't fancy getting shot anytime soon. Then of course, there's the fact that this particular sword is completely useless in battle.” It wasn't a lie, the Kiseki-Jihi was incapable of cutting down an enemy since it healed wounds and revived the dead, but if she said that then they would send her to the closest asylum and throw away the key. Instead, Kagome used the hand that placed the Jihi no Kiseki on the desk to click the hilt away from the sheath, exposing enough of what appeared to be a rusty old blade. “This katana couldn't cut wet paper.

 

“Finally, if you haven't already noticed, I'm kind of injured right now, so my mobility has been limited. You see,” Kagome leaned over a bit to ease the pressure on her back, accidentally revealing some of her white bandages in her pursuit for comfort, “my name is Higurashi Kagome, and I was in a rather nasty car accident three weeks ago.”

 

§

 

Chuckling mentally, Yusuke had to commend Kagome on her ability to capture the moment and bring forth anticipation. She was an amazing storyteller, he had already been told that, but now he had veritable proof. She even had him itching with anticipation over what her words would reveal when she answered the innocent question.

 

But what got him was Kagome's ability to cast illusions as though it were nothing. He felt the miniscule surge of power when Kagome placed her sword on the desk so he knew that what he was seeing now was not in fact what it looked like. If Kagome felt the need to place an illusion, then the katana must at least look threatening enough that it would be confiscated.

 

What also got him was that he could feel the katana's unhappiness at being separated from Kagome as well as its joy when Kagome laid her hand on it to reveal the tattered blade, like it had a mind and will of its own. That sword would be the death of him, he swore.

 

Clearing his head of such revelations, Yusuke decided that Kagome had a lot more to explain about when they got out of there. A quick glance at Kuwabara told him that his friend was thinking along the same lines.

 

The officers seemed taken aback at the Kagome's statement and kept looking back at the smiling picture of her taped around the atrium—the same one that Yusuke saw on the news—and the paler, thinner version standing, quite alive, before them. The receptionist immediately stood and ran to get the detective. Wonder why she didn't bother using the phone? the Tantei thought curiously.

 

He watched as Kagome looked around and, apparently seeing no threat, resheathed the odd sword and returned it to her hand for her walking purposes. She flinched slightly, a gesture that didn't go unnoticed by Kuwabara either, and proceeded towards a nearby chair. Just as she was about to seat herself, a man, middle-aged and donning a business suit, came running down to where they were, the receptionist following diligently behind and going back to her post at the desk.

 

“Higurashi Kagome-san?” the guy asked, moving a hand through his light brown, slightly graying hair. Kagome's cerulean eyes looked up into hazel before she nodded in affirmation. “Can you come with me, please?”

 

Kagome frowned before looking over to Kuwabara and himself. “Can they come, too?” she asked quietly. The detective looked over as well before frowning apologetically.

 

“I'm sorry, Higurashi-san, but this is a closed discussion. Regulation rules,” he added at the miko's crestfallen face. Kagome sighed in resignation.

 

“You guys will be here when I come out, right?” she asked hopefully.

 

“We'll try to be. If not, I'll call Keiko to bring you to the shrine,” Yusuke answered.

 

“Hopefully though, we'll still be here,” Kuwabara added. Kagome gave them a small smile and let the detective lead her away.

 

§

 

Botan looked around curiously, wondering where the woman's soul was. It should still be here—there was no reason for it not to be—but she couldn't sense it. Frowning, she hopped on her oar again and floated away.

 

That was the third one the ferry girl encountered and it was…unnerving. Souls don't just disappear, and they usually stay inside, if not close by the body they inhabited. Slowly, she flew above the towering skyscrapers, pondering what to do about the new situation.

 

Doubtless, Koenma needs to know about the disappearances. He'll be so furious, Botan concluded, but maybe he'll know what's going on. Mind made up, she prepared to make a portal when an odd pull came to her senses. Changing tactics, she followed her instinct and went after it.

 

She ended up deep within the wooded area of the park, when the energy finally stopped. She never felt anything like it, it didn't feel human, but it was unlike any youkai she ever felt as well. She wound her way through the trees before coming upon a clearing.

 

There were youkai, pale green and eel-like, floating around each other. Cotton candy pink eyes widened at the sight. Curious, she floated over to them when she felt herself change into her corporeal form. “What the…?” her question trailed as she looked at her solid hands before a twang was heard in the silence.

 

Pain blossomed in her right shoulder, unseating her from her oar. A shrill scream burned in her throat as a barrier formed itself around the clearing. Botan looked down to the source of her pain, only to see an arrowhead poking from her skin, blood soaking her pink kimono. When she raised her left hand to it she felt a crackle of energy and her fingertips were singed.

 

“I'm surprised,” a voice softly called, “that you felt my little pets. I'll have to make sure that they are better shielded next time.” Botan immediately turned to where the voice was heard, but saw nothing. “Am I correct that you work for that fool, Koenma?” it asked, and the ferry girl decided that she hated it and the emotionless arrogance it carried so gracefully.

 

“Who wants to know?” she interrogated angrily, still looking for the source. It was female, but it was also well hidden. She couldn't feel an aura, and her vision was blurring. The other woman laughed before Botan heard chanting and her vision faded all together. “W…what did you do to me?”

 

A rustle of leaves to the left brought her to face in the direction, though without her sight it was in vain. “It is but a simple spell only another with similar powers to mine can remove,” the woman answered, gripping the arrow in her shoulder and roughly twisting it out. Botan released another loud cry before a slap moved her face to the side, silencing her. “Scream again and I'll blow your head off,” the voice threatened as hands wrapped tightly around her neck, the same energy that forced her hand away from the arrow burning the tender skin raw. “Good girl,” her captor patronized. “Now, I have a message for your precious Reikai prince. Tell him he only has until midnight before the Harvest begins. Repeat that for me.”

 

“Only `t-t-till midnight before the…the H-harvest begins,” Botan whimpered. A swift kick made contact with her stomach, charged with more of the same energy, forcing her to fly into a tree; the bark bit into her back as gravity forced her down.

 

“Farewell, servant of Reikai,” the woman taunted mockingly, the voice fading as she vanished.

 

Botan groaned pathetically: her whole body throbbed with pain. The wind stung the exposed wounds with bitter vengeance. I have to…get…to Ko…Koenma-sama. The damage done to her body made it difficult to focus, but somehow she managed to create a portal beneath her before her consciousness abandoned her.

 

§

 

“Higurashi-san—”

 

“Kagome,” she immediately corrected, before softly adding, “Please, call me Kagome.” She shifted against the chair, finding the minimal padding a mite uncomfortable to her back.

 

“Kagome-san,” Detective Hiroshi said, “I know that this must be difficult, but I need you to tell me everything that you know about what happened the day of the car accident.”

 

Kagome sighed before simply leaning forward to avoid contact with the blasted chair. “Well, we were going to go to the movies as a family, which in itself was difficult because Jii-chan hates going to the movies. Mama managed to convince him though, saying it was based off of some legend…it wasn't, but it got him into the car. We were going to the theater, crossing over the bridge when the truck hit us.” So far, Kagome hadn't been lying, but now she had to get a bit creative. She couldn't exactly say that she was somehow transported to Feudal Japan where her inu hanyou friend found her unconscious beside the well, which was probably the doing of the Shikon Jewel that was born in her body but was ripped from her side by a centipede youkai. That would float over just dandy. Yeah, right.

 

“Do you remember anything after that?” Hiroshi asked. His pen was moving quickly on a pad of paper, the information that would later form a formal report.

 

“Well, I remember bright lights, a scream, and then my back hurt before everything turned black. I woke up in a bed, my back still hurt,” she answered simply, her left hand tightening around the Kiseki-Jihi.

 

“And the katana?”

 

Uhh… “A good friend of mine gave it to me as a means of support.” Again, it was not a lie, more like a vague truth. Vague truths were something she could do, but she was horrible at lying; her mother always used to tell when she gave them. Heartache was sitting heavily on her chest, but she mourned for her family in the Sengoku Jidai. So much death in such short time; was this how Sango felt when her village was destroyed?

 

When had death become so common for her to encounter? Her father was murdered when she was eight, but that was just a death, tragic, but rare. It must have been the Sengoku Jidai, it had to be. Before then, she was only slightly desensitized, but now…so many people, so many nameless faces…and she contributed to some of them.

 

That thought left a bitter taste in her mouth. Her hands were stained with blood, but it was unavoidable. She was in a world of kill or be killed, it can't be ignored…and it can't be forsaken. She was trained to kill, and she was good at it. She killed so she could live, so many more people can live. Death was so complicated.

 

But she's helped people too, can't forget that. She's killed demons that would hurt thousands of other people, and she always gave assistance when she was needed. Hell, that was how she became the Jun-Namida no Miko in the first place: she was needed to detect the shards and she did what her duty, her destiny, called for her to do.

 

It was a fact that she had already faced, some people just needed to die. It was predestined, written in the stars, and no matter how strong she was, or at least how strong she was supposed to be, she couldn't change fate.

 

Then again, she was given the Jihi no Kiseki for a reason, she was supposed to revive those who died, but shouldn't have; or was it that she was supposed to bring to life those who were truly good at heart? Kagome smiled humorlessly: life was complicated, too.

 

She didn't regret it though, she couldn't just regret the best years of her life. Before the well, she was just Kagome: moderately attractive with odd blue eyes, pretty good grades but unable to grasp the concept of Geometry. Now she was Kagome: Jun-Namida no Miko, Guardian of the Shikon no Tama, master archer and swordswoman, taijiya, former time-traveler, indirectly responsible for the creation of the three Worlds, creator of…that technique she still has to name, shrine maiden, healer, botanist, but still pretty bad at Geometry anyway. The latter was definitely a more appealing resume, even if she couldn't use it to get a normal job.

 

“…gome-san? Kagome-san, are you all right?”

 

Kagome started. When did she zone out? “I'm fine, just…thinking.” She mentally rolled her eyes. How would the Detective Hiroshi react if he knew that, not only was the petite young woman before him a professional killer, but that she had a small epiphany in his sparsely decorated office while sitting on the poorly padded chair? Kagome sighed internally, too. Just another thing that could put me in the mental institution…

 

“Well, if you don't mind, we would like to have a photo documentation of the wounds on your back,” Hiroshi said, offering her a hand up. Accepting it, Kagome let herself be assisted, hiding quite well the rising panic forming inside her.

 

Not only should the wounds on her back not be as healed as they are, but then there are the other scars on her side and the backs of her arms that are rather suspicious. How on earth is she going to explain the whole “My hanyou friend was forced into a demonic rage by a beautiful but evil hime and he gripped my arms without the presence of mind to know that his claws, yes claws, were breaking the skin…and then I kissed him to get him back to normal” thing? Kagome sighed aloud. I really have to stop thinking in such big sentences.

 

§

 

Yusuke glared at the clock as if it was the reason Kagome had been gone for an hour and it was astoundingly boring. The officers kept looking at Kuwabara and him like they were expecting them to suddenly whip out guns and shoot them all to death.

 

Damn cops.

 

So lost in ennui he was that the annoying ring of his communicator almost didn't register in his mind. However, that sound was by no means easily ignored. Grumbling as the officers stared more pointedly at him, he walked out of the building and to a nearby alley. Making sure that he was alone, he flipped open the compact and was met with the face of Koenma. “Whaddya want, toddler?” he asked despite the fact that Koenma stuck to his teenage form nowadays.

 

“Yusuke, I don't have time for this crap. Get to the roof of Sarayashiki High in no less then ten minutes, and bring Kuwabara, too. Kurama and Hiei are going to meet you. A portal should be there soon after,” the prince explained.

 

“Why? What's goi-”

 

Koenma ended the disconnection. Scowling, Yusuke returned to the station. Kuwabara looked up with a question in his eyes. Nodding, the detective approached the receptionist. “Can I borrow you're phone?” Silently, the woman lifted said device onto the counter. Without saying thanks Yusuke dialed Keiko's number.

 

§

 

The wind billowed playfully through the soft red tresses, toying with them before a hand ran past, cutting off its play. The emerald eyes of one Shuuichi Minamino seemed to frown in thought as to the odd meeting he was about to attend. A crinkle of foreboding marred his otherwise calm exterior.

 

When Koenma had called him, Kurama had been skeptical. The Prince of Reikai rarely talked to them directly through the communicators; Botan was usually deployed to give messages.

 

Ah, Botan. She somehow managed to appeal to both the human and the fox that made up who he was. They were both slightly ashamed to admit it, but they harbored a little crush on the Death Deity. However, crush was such a superficial term used by children to give a name to petty, short-lived emotions. No, what he felt was far deeper than that, much more real.

 

“`You're thoughts are quite disgusting,'” Hiei chose to comment telepathically. Rolling his eyes, Kurama shook his head.

 

`Love is far from disgusting, Hiei. When you fall in love, you will understand,' Kurama responded. Hiei, sitting cross-legged opposite of the avatar, lifted his head to the sky in defiance, staring at the sun with brazen confidence.

 

“`Hn. I will never `fall' for anything, Fox.'” Youko perked at the reply.

 

“That's what I used to think, too, but here I am…practically human yet still devilishly handsome. Oh, I love me.” Both Kurama and Hiei sighed in exasperation.

 

“`Narcissist,'” the fire apparition accused.

 

“I bet you're just jealous that my affections aren't being directed at you,” Youko continued, unheeding of the warning signals of in Hiei's aura. “I mean really, who wouldn't want my-”

 

Kurama was quick to stifle the kitsune spirit. Just because Youko chose to ignore the threat that was the Forbidden Child did not mean that he would. `I apologize for him, Hiei. He's just angry that our time in the gardens was disturbed,' he explained.

 

Hiei glared in his general direction before returning to the sun, which was slowly being covered by a thick, fluffy cloud. After a few moments, a frown appeared on his face. “`The day I find someone who could actually love me is the day I eat my bandana.'”

 

Kurama frowned as well. He was expecting another “Hn” or perhaps just silence, but that response was not what he was prepared to hear. He knew that Hiei wasn't exactly a “happy person”—hell, he wasn't even really a “person”—but it was just that…the apparition seemed so…alone…so self-loathing. Didn't he know that he was fine the way he was? Maybe he should find someone like Botan? Okay, maybe not like Botan, as Hiei would be likely to cut her head off, but someone who could balance Hiei out and look beyond the fact that his past was rather dark. Just as he was about to share his thoughts with Hiei, Yusuke and Kuwabara bound into the scene with a loud, “Will somebody tell me why the fuck I'm here?!”

 

Kurama sighed: typical Yusuke. “We are not sure yet as to why Koenma summoned us, Yusuke,” he answered. Standing, he stretched his back to remove the kinks before straightening. “The portal should be opening any moment. I'm sure Koenma will explain what is going on in due time.” The raven-haired detective glared at him.

 

“That stupid toddler has us by the ba-” The portal they were awaiting appeared, cutting off the rest of Yusuke's obscene rant in the nick of time. Still grumbling, Yusuke stalked into the portal, the rest of the group following behind.

 

Walking calmly into the room, Kurama immediately noted the chaotic, apprehensive atmosphere and tensed. The giant screen that showed Koenma what was happening elsewhere seemed to have exploded, the remains in shattered pieces on the ground. The people around him consisted of frantic Reikai healers rushing to and fro, ogres of different colors running back and forth with large stacks of files filled with paper and paper to be filed, and one very anxious, very still Koenma sitting at his desk in his comfortable red chair staring at the swarm of healers with almost blank but so very wide brown eyes. He looked to be in shock.

 

Kurama turned slightly to see his teammates' reactions. Yusuke and Kuwabara both seemed taken aback by the display, probably expecting to see a relatively quiet office and a busy little Prince stamping papers irritably. Hiei's face remained impassive, but his clairvoyant crimson eyes were rapidly scanning the surrounding for threats; his actions told Kurama that the diminutive apparition was unprepared for the sight as well. Deciding to take a leaf out of Hiei's book, he discreetly sniffed at the air with his sensitive canine nose.

 

Koenma.

 

Panic.

 

Healers.

 

Anxiety.

 

Ogres.

 

…Pain…

 

…Confusion…

 

…Blood.

 

So much blood, but what was the cause? His kitsune curiosity waged his natural instinct that the answer to his question would deny him any sort of relief until he finally settled on just going ahead and to deal with the consequences later.

 

The Head Healer stood quickly from his place, wiping his bloodied hands on a moist towel. “We've done all we can Koenma-sama, but the energy around the wounds and her eyes won't allow for normal pneumatherapy methods so we resorted to…ningen means until we find a method of Healing that with hopefully work,” the impish, wizened old man reported. He gestured to his team that it was safe to leave and return to where they were posted. As the other healers left, Kurama found it easier to weave through the crowd to get to the source of the metallic scent. However, what met him was far from expected, or welcome.

 

Light blue hair was matted with dirt and blood. The upper portion of a kimono was stained with the same red liquid. The stark bandages on an upper torso, covering a right shoulder, and the thin column of neck contrasted to the livid bruising on a normally creamy-toned stomach. Heavy breathing was slowed with pain and bubblegum eyes were moving under their closed lids. “Botan?” the fox avatar whispered in disbelief.

 

The girl who unknowingly held his affections stirred at his soft voice. “Kur-Kurama,” she murmured, her throat abused to the point where it sounded like a wheeze. Her hand groped unseeingly for his and when she found it she held it tightly. “I-it hurts…Kurama,” she continued.

 

“What the hell did this to her?” Youko asked, not really expecting a useful answer.

 

`Why can't she be Healed?' Kurama added. Yusuke moved to Botan's other side, looking over the wounded woman with a serious critical eye, mentally documenting certain things. He went to touch her eyes when something crackled and he pulled his hand away. The tips of his fingers—as well as Botan's daintier ones, Kurama noted—were singed and blistered. “What happened?” the redhead questioned aloud, he, Yusuke, Kuwabara, and Hiei facing the only one who might be able to respond to his inquiry with the proper information: Koenma.

 

Said prince ignored the question in favor of his own, directed to the Head Healer. “Can you identify the energy?” The Healer shook his head.

 

“If you want any answers,” the imp stated as he walked, undismissed, out of the room, “I'd suggest you ask the girl. Perhaps she got to see her attacker before the blinding spell was cast.” He left the room.

 

Botan whimpered, her eyelids clenching in pain. Koenma sighed before floating over to her, “Botan, I know it's asking a lot but I need you to tell me what happened to you.”

 

Kurama felt the ferry girl's hold on his hand tighten slightly and he responded in kind, letting her know that she had his support; an action that didn't go unnoticed by the Forbidden Child and the team leader.

 

Botan took a deep, raspy breath before making an attempt at telling her story. “Th-the dead s-soul-ls…not there…w-w-was g-going to re-report…s-strange en-nergy…investi-tigated.” She paused to catch a second wind and continued. “F-found clearing…odd y-youkai…disappeared. F-f-flew i-in…I s-sol-lidif-fied…d-don't kn-kn-know w-why…p-pain…arrow…my sh-should-der…c-couldn't get it o-out…burned. A voice…m-mocking me…ripped the a-arrow out…screamed. Ch-chanting…blind…mocking…g-grabbed my n-neck…it h-hurt…b-burning.” Suddenly Botan gasped, her eyes opening in fear. The normally vibrant pinks were lacking their pupils and seemed to be covered in a rolling, dense smoke; it caused a twinge of sympathy in Kurama. She started to sit up but her wounds shouted in protested and she immediately fell back on the futon. “K-Koenma-sama…the H-Harvest…b-begins at mi-midnight,” she managed to choke out before unconsciousness reclaimed her once more.

 

Koenma seemed to freeze, suspended in the air. Ignorant or blind to the confused looks sent at him, Koenma slowly made his way back to his chair, moved close to the desk, and promptly began bashing his head against the hard surface. After a minute or so and about thirty slams later, the young prince stared in a daze at the broken screen in front of him. “We're screwed,” he stated, a curious expression coming over his blank features. “The Harvest of Souls…how could fifty years just pass like that?”

 

Kurama frowned: usually Koenma was ranting stupidly when a possibly dangerous mission came up. “The Harvest of Souls?”

 

Koenma reached for the remote before sighing helplessly as he looked at the damaged screen. “I should have known when the screen broke that this was happening. It always happens when he comes for the Harvest,” he rambled to himself, ignoring Kurama's question entirely. His brown eyes stared forlornly at the detectives for a few moments before he picked up his stapler and threw it into the adjacent wall in an angry fit. “Dammit! Dammit, dammit, DAMMIT!” He jumped onto his desk and proceeded to pace furiously to and fro. His arms were crossed painfully across his abdomen, his hands gripping his upper arms. “This is the best damn Reikai Tantei I've had! They can't die now!”

 

Kurama raised his eyebrow. While it was minimally comforting that Koenma was reverting to his normal habits of throwing fits and shooting off his mouth, the fact that it was their demise he was discussing was intensely less settling.

 

§§§§§

 

NOTES SO YOU KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT: Pneumatherapy is what Botan and Yukina use for healing. Basic Western white magic in other words. It's in the manga.

 

Shinkirou—Mirage (you'll see, I think I've created one of the most versatile swords in existence)

 

A/N: I think I did okay with it, but I'm not too sure. Tell me what you think, okay?

 

 

Review, please! Thank you.