InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Fire in Ice ❯ Chapter Nine ( Chapter 9 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, etc., of Inuyasha or Yu Yu Hakusho. This story is for entertainment purposes only, and not for profit.
FIRE IN ICE

A/N: The quote below is taken from Sun-Tzu’s “Art of War.” =)

Chapter Nine

Carefully leaning her Hiraikotsu against the wall in her room, Sango smoothed her palm down the bone’s flat surface, troubled thoughts turned inward. She jumped when Yusuke stuck his shaggy head through the door. “I call dibs!”

Puzzled, she turned. “Dibs?”

Scruffing the back of his neck, Yusuke grinned. “Sorry, I keep forgetting you don’t know the local lingo. I was just claiming first crack at the shower---if you don’t mind.”

Still confused, but getting the gist of it, Sango smiled. “Yes, please, go ahead.”

“Thanks. I stink.” Yusuke’s smile turned wicked. “Unless you want to join…?”

“No, thank you,” Sango dryly declined as Yusuke pretended to pout.

“Only if you’re sure…”

“I’m sure.” Sango couldn’t help but shake her head. The detective was completely incorrigible. And that pout, while appealing, just underscored how young he really was. While considered a grown man at fifteen in the Sengoku Jidai, Botan had explained that Yusuke was still a minor by modern standards. Well, so was she, actually, but Sango suddenly felt older---more than just the two years that separated them. Well, there were five-hundred-and-two, if one thought about it. Which she didn’t particularly wish to. Although there were other things she should address.

“Ah…Yusuke?” Sango asked, feeling somewhat nervous and uncertain why. Well, it was hard for her to admit weakness to anyone, let alone virtual strangers. But of all of them, she felt she had the most in common with Yusuke. He, at least, was human.

 Surprised, Yusuke stuck his head back through the door. “What’s up?”

Carefully not looking at him, Sango poked a nail at her Hiraikotsu. How best to approach this? Well, she had never been good at subtlety. Best to attack the problem head on, and be direct.

Hugging her elbows, Sango resolutely turned. “I know you’re training with the Lady Genkai to better harness your spiritual gifts, but you are already incredibly strong. At least, to me. All of you are. I know Kurama pulled his blows today,” she nodded at his startled expression, and added, “and I know how skilled a demon has to be to instantly teleport themselves---”

Yusuke opened his mouth, but Sango hastened to finish. “But…is that normal? For this era? Are you…each of you…what one might consider ordinary fighters? Have the skills of war developed so far that…”

Comprehension dawned, and Yusuke flashed her a lop-sided grin. Crossing his arms, he leaned against the door jam. “Well, what you might call war, that’s…uh…one subject. But as for us…well, I wouldn’t say any of us are normal. But I get your drift, and no, we ain’t your average, every-day thugs. Kurama, he knows stuff I can’t even imagine, but then he has some old fart of a fox demon inside his head. I wouldn’t sweat the fact that he knows more taijutsu than---”

“I need to become stronger,” Sango asserted, wondering if he might protest.

But surprisingly, Yusuke didn’t. “Wouldn’t hurt,” he said frankly. “Did you even see half the shit Kurama threw at you?”

“No,” Sango admitted, expression wry. “Kurama’s fast. I couldn’t perceive most of his attacks, but I felt them, in the air. And I know he was holding back.”

“Hiei’s faster,” Yusuke offered, gauging her reaction.

She wasn’t happy, knowing that was probably true, and also knowing that Yusuke wasn’t admitting his own abilities. If the boy was strong enough to see Kurama’s attacks then that meant he was fast enough to counter them.

“Most of the time, I was just guessing,” Sango confessed, hating the fact. But that just fueled her determination. And once determined, she wasn’t one to be deterred.

Yusuke’s eyes widened. “Guessing?” Throwing his head back, he abruptly started laughing. “Guessing?”

“I don’t see what’s so funny.” Sango drew herself up, offended.

Yusuke waved a hand at her, his laughter dying to a few wheezes as he tried to catch his breath. “It’s not you. It’s Kurama. He’s such a planner, always thinking three steps ahead and trying to cover every contingency. And you…you…just guessed what he might do, and still managed to hold your own.”

“Not entirely,” Sango reminded darkly.

“Hey, you did good for what you could. And don’t worry,” Yusuke said, eying her expression, “you’ll get better. Genkai will see to that.”

“So you think she’ll agree to take me on?” Sango asked, hoping he didn’t see how anxious she suddenly was. This was something she desperately needed, an anchor and a purpose in this crazy new world she now found herself.

“I think Grandma’d get a kick out of it. She likes torturing people. Damn sadist.”

“The best teachers are,” Sango said. “They have to be. They can’t afford to give any quarter, because in a real fight, your opponent certainly won’t.”

Yusuke snorted. “Maybe. But I should warn you that Genkai might not have too much time right now to spare for your training---”

“I understand you are her special apprentice,” Sango said, somewhat stiffly. “I wouldn’t want to take her attention away from you---”

“Please! I’d love getting a break from the old bitch, but you see, she has this incredibly annoying belief that I need to train 24-7. She keeps harping that the Dark Tournament’s only two months away, yadda yadda, nag, nag.” Yusuke pulled a face.

“What is the Dark Tournament?” Sango asked curiously. “Everyone keeps hinting about it, but they haven’t explained.”

“Ah, well,” Yusuke shrugged, looking uncomfortable, “it’s a karate tournament, sort of, we all got invited to. Except it’s not exactly an invitation you can turn down. Participation is mandatory, or the Yukuza come calling.”

“Yukuza?”

“You really don’t know much, do you?” Yusuke gave her a baffled look, then scrubbed his hands over his face. “Aw, crap. I didn’t mean that like it sounded. Of course you don’t know anything. Hell, I don’t half the time. Kurama’s the smart one. Me? I just like to fight.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Sango asked.

Yusuke cracked one eye open to stare at her. “I could really get to like you, you know that, slayer?”

What did that have to do with, as her father was so fond of saying, the cost of eggs in Edo? Though it was nice to know Yusuke didn’t consider her an oddity like most men of her (admittedly limited) acquaintance. Still, his frank look made Sango uneasy, and she had the sudden urge to blush. Which was just ridiculous.

Stepping back, Sango suggested, “Why don’t you start by explaining who these ‘Yukuza’ are? Are they demons?”

“Worse,” Yusuke said shortly.

“Worse than demons?” Sango blinked, the idea completely foreign.

“Hey, not all demons are bad,” Yusuke said at her dubious look. “Just the bad ones.”

“Er…” Sango didn’t know what to say to that.

Yusuke didn’t see what was so confusing. He brushed the finer points aside, saying instead, “They’re men. Rich men, who profit off other people.”

“Like the daimyo?”

“Ah…” Yusuke rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah. Sort of, I guess. But they’re not…nobles, and all that. I don’t usually have any beef with them, but I don’t like it when they start messing with me and my friends.”

Ah, loyalties. That she could grasp. So it was a clan-thing, one against another. Sango wondered who had first instigated the feud, though if Yusuke were to be believed, it’d been this “Yukuza Clan.”

“They took Hiei’s---well, that part really isn’t all that important.” Yusuke avoided her sharp gaze, and said, “We fought this guy. Toguro. A big mother fucker. And I thought we killed him. But he…came back from the dead. Or was just pretending. He’s sick like that, although I thought his brother, the ‘Elder Toguro’ was the freaky one.”

There was a lot the young man wasn’t saying, but Sango didn’t press for more information. There was a look in his eyes, one that told her that Yusuke, so brash and confident, was actually afraid of this Toguro. Not that he would let that stop him. Not by the determination in his intense brown eyes, or the stubborn set of his jaw, which was clenched so tight a slight tic developed along his cheek.

Sango could admire that. Facing your fears was never easy. Knowing your opponent was so much stronger than you, and yet also knowing there was nothing else you could really do but go ahead and face them…

She’d held that fear. Naraku, so much stronger than even the five best warriors of her village, including her father. A demon powerful enough to inveigle the murder of an entire village just to claim five of the Jewel shards. Sango had wondered, in her darker moments of doubt, what she might possibly do against such evil. But she also knew, in the grim certainty of her sorrowing heart, that she had to try.

“I,” she swallowed, wondering why her throat felt so tight, and coughed to clear it as Yusuke looked over at her. “I’d like to help.”

Yusuke raised a thick brow.

“I know it isn’t much,” Sango said, suddenly seized by urgency. It was as if, denied Naraku, she might somehow redeem herself by helping him. And in a strange way, everything started to make sense.

Yusuke rubbed the side of his nose with a forefinger. “Ah, I don’t think there’s anything really that you---”

“Yes, there is,” she insisted, and then quickly amended, “Or there will be. Else why was I frozen for five hundred years, and you the ones to find me? I don’t always understand the gods, but there’s always a reason for---”

“You have more faith than I do,” Yusuke broke in shortly.

Surprised, Sango said, “But you work for Yama, the King of the Overworld---”

“Not entirely. I work for his son, remember? Old Diaper Pants. And I don’t entirely trust him.”

“But…” Sango was truly at a loss. Yusuke’s skepticism was so utterly alien to her. Respect for the gods was bred into her from earliest childhood. One didn’t question what the kami intended, one just believed they had men’s best interests at heart. Although a part of her, a small, oh-so-tiny part, wondered why they allowed such senseless death like the murder of her village. Or allowed such evil like Naraku---or this Toguro, presumably---to exist in the first place. Her father’s simple answer, to test humanity’s loyalty and perseverance, just didn’t stand up to the loss in her heart. Not always.

But that was just the selfish part of her. The other part, the one that knew, bone-deep, right from wrong…that part was almost scandalized by Yusuke’s cynicism.

“Ah, cripes, it doesn’t matter, does it? If you believe it, then that’s all there is to it. And maybe you have a point. It was rather convenient Hiei and Kurama found you in Tarukane’s vaults---he’s the guy who hired Toguro and started all this mess in the first place. Maybe Koenma does have a hand in it, something I’d sure like to know.”

Yusuke abruptly glared over his shoulder. “Well, lookie there. And just right on time, huh? Hello, Botan.”

“Er, hello.” Botan blinked at his expression. Then, catching a whiff of the Spirit Detective, she fanned the air. “Oh! Yusuke! Don’t you think it’s past time for a shower? You shouldn’t sit in your sweat like that, you might catch a chill.”

“Yeah, that’d stink.”

Wrinkling her nose at his sarcasm, the ferry-girl made a shooing motion. “Well, toodaloo, and off with you! I have to talk to Sango for a minute. In private. Girl stuff, and all that.”

“How convenient,” Yusuke said dryly. “Caught a bit of our conversation, did you?”

Botan blinked. “Now what are you going on about now?”

“Uh-huh,” Yusuke drawled. “You just happen to show up right when Sango was asking about the Dark Tournament.“

“The Dark Tournament?”

Yusuke scowled. “Yeah, Botan. The Dark Tournament. The demon death-match held every five years, remember? The one less than two months away, and the one we still need a fifth fighter for. Sango, here, just volunteered.”

“Really?” Botan turned wide pink eyes on the slayer, who nodded. The ferry-girl frowned.

“Are you sure you want to?” she asked. Yusuke did a double-take.

Sango nodded. “Yes. I think…it might make sense of all this.” She waved her hand to indicate not just the room, but her presence within it.

Botan’s brows came down as she chewed her lip for a long, quiet moment. Then she surprised them both by suddenly clapping her hands and smiling. “Why, I think that’s a capital idea!”

“Of course you do.” Yusuke rolled his eyes. “As if you didn’t know that was exactly what she was going to do all along.”

“What are you talking about?” Botan peered up at the detective, frowning. “I just came by to ask Sango what brand of tampon she prefers. I’m about to go to the store, and it just occurred to me that…”

Yusuke got a peculiar look on his face.

“What’s a tampon?” Sango asked.

“Why, it’s---” Botan turned to her, happy to explain.

“Okay, that’s my cue.” Blanching, Yusuke fled.


As soon as the detective was gone, Botan said, “Are you really certain about all this, Sango? You know, the Dark Tournament, it’s…well, it’s…”

“Yes. I think there might be a reason for everything now.”

Botan frowned, not sure if that were true. But if it helped the girl to accept her fate, then who was she to stop her?

“I have a few preparations to make,” Sango murmured, tapping a finger against her pursed lips. Botan watched curiously as the slayer pulled various items from odd spots about her uniform, laying them on the bed. Sango frowned when she opened a small seashell that strangely reminded the ferry-girl of a cosmetics case. She ran a calloused thumb across the hardened, waxy substance inside.

“What’s that?” Botan asked, drawing closer so she might look over the taijiya’s shoulder.

“Useless,” Sango wryly replied. “It wasn’t waterproof.” Still holding the opened seashell, the taijiya turned to face the blue-haired girl. “Didn’t you say you were about to go to the store? That’s like a market, isn’t it?”

“Yes…”

“Would they have any bintsuke-abura wax?”

Botan blinked. “Like the geisha wear?”

“What’s a geisha?” Sango asked.

Folding both hands over the other girl’s, which closed the seashell with a tiny click, Botan drew her over to the bed so they could sit down. “We have a lot to discuss, don’t we?”


Genkai wasn’t the only one waiting to speak with him. Catching a distinct aura as he arched past, Hiei descended to the next tree branch, kneeling slightly as the bough swayed beneath his weight.

The late afternoon sun lit the kitsune’s long, red hair into living flame as he emerged between the trees. He raised eyes as green as the shadows around him, his look cool.

“Hiei,” he greeted with a courteous nod.

“Fox.”

Kurama smiled in amusement at the title Hiei made greeting. “Thank you for stopping.”

“You signaled,” Hiei answered, noting sourly as the kitsune withdrew his jyaki and with it, the succinct signature of his power. “What do you want?”

“We need to talk,” Kurama said bluntly, knowing how unwelcome evasion was to the acerbic apparition.

“About what?”

There was an edge in Hiei’s voice that Kurama chose to ignore. Instead, he invited, “Won’t you come down? I’ll get a crick in my neck trying to converse with you up there.”

“Hn.”

Hiei’s real answer was to abruptly vanish from the branch overhead, reappearing at the tree’s base with his arms folded as he leaned his wide shoulders against the gnarled trunk. “So talk.”

“I want to know why you interfered in the Dark Forest earlier, with Sango,” Kurama began without any preamble. Hiei wouldn’t appreciate it, anyway.

The shorter demon regarded him steadily. “Why did you pull your blows, fox? That’s not your style.”

Kurama’s mouth quirked at the demon’s quick rejoinder. He replied easily, “It wasn’t needed. I wasn’t out to humiliate the girl, just test her knowledge of standard taijutsu as per Genkai’s request.”

“You call that a test?” Hiei scoffed. “That was pathetic. You’re more ruthless than that.”

Kurama shrugged. “When warranted.”

“You didn’t think it was warranted?” Hiei demanded. “I thought you were testing the girl, not indulging her human weaknesses.”

Kurama didn’t say anything, just looked at him. Hiei jumped to his own conclusions.

“So I was right.” He sneered. “She’s weak. Too weak to fight you, at full strength, during a simple sparring match, let alone any real opponent. She has no business being in the Dark Tournament.”

“The Dark…?” Kurama started, surprised, and then nodded, as if answering some question for himself. “Ah.”

Knowing the kitsune had discerned everything on that vague reference alone, Hiei said, “So you agree with me. She’s too weak to fight in the tournament.”

“Not…entirely.” Kurama surprised him.

Hiei raised a thin brow.

“There’s potential.”

“Hn.” Hiei’s scorn was scathing.

“You do Sango too little credit,” Kurama gently chided, then suddenly smiled. “Is that why you interfered? In the Dark Forest?”

“Her skills are negligible. She would have died.”

“And that gave you some cause for concern?”

Hiei stilled, the automatic objection dying unuttered on his tongue. Reviewing his damning actions over the past few days (and how they must have come across to the others), his lip curled in disgust. “I’ve been a fool,” he concluded tersely.

Kurama shook his head. “That’s not what I---”

“Isn’t it?” Hiei demanded, red eyes accusing as he looked up at the fox.  

“No, actually,” Kurama replied steadily. “Though I have been concerned by how marked an interest you’ve taken in the girl. Knowing how you feel about Yukina---”

“That is hardly your affair, fox,” Hiei snapped.

“Isn’t it?” Kurama asked gently. “I would like to think we’re friends, Hiei. And friends look out for one another.”

Hiei’s lip curled. “I have no use for such a feeble excuse as ‘friends’ to explain away your interfering curiosity, fox.”

Ignoring the pointed jab to his demonic nature, Kurama suggested, “Allies, then. Shouldn’t allies concern themselves with each other’s well-being?”

“I only choose to stay allied with you because I don’t have any other choice,” Hiei snapped, though the protest sounded wan, even to him.

Kurama only smiled.

“The tournament, remember?” Hiei testily added.

Kurama’s smile didn’t falter.

“Hn.” Done with the annoying conversation, the fire demon prepared to leap away before stopped once more by Kurama’s idle observance.

“You know, I trust her.”

Startled, Hiei whipped around to face the fox, who simply stood watching him. The shorter demon denied flatly, “You don’t trust anyone. It‘s one of the few things I actually respect.”

“True,“ Kurama admitted with a fait smile. “And yet, I trust Yusuke.”

“That’s different,” Hiei quickly dismissed, focusing on the true topic and accusing, “You hardly know her.”

“We fought.” Kurama shrugged. “It was enough.”

“One match, and you know her so well?”

“It wasn’t hard. She’s honest, and direct. Almost to a fault. But there’s no guile in her.” Then, smiling at the memory of how the slayer had surprised him by pretending to aim for his manly parts---which he automatically protected---and then going in for her real attack to sweep him off his feet, Kurama relented, “Maybe a little.”

“Hn.” Hiei folded his arms and waited.

“She’s too direct in her approach. You can easily read her intent, and move to counter---if you know what to look for. She’s seasoned, and well-trained---” Kurama held up his hand at Hiei’s sneer.

“She is, for her time. Very well-trained,” he emphasized, but added, “She just needs to work on her reflexes and timing.”

“Timing.” Hiei shook his dark head. “She’s too slow to have fought any real demons.”

“I beg to differ. Though I think she has fought mostly lower-class apparitions, those who rely more on their brute strength than any real finesse. And she has spent too much time working in tandem with others, maybe as a group or in formation. She’s used to having her sides covered---a lot of the blows she missed where along that line. I confess, I deliberately exploited that weakness. One you will need to address.”

“Among many,” Hiei growled, then realizing what the fox said, his eyes narrowed. “How did you know that I…?”

“Easily enough. One, I am not entirely accessible, already having too many commitments. Two, what little free time I have I am spending with Kuwabara to try and bring him up to speed.”

Hiei snorted, which the kitsune chose to ignore.

“Genkai is busy with Yusuke, and the taijiya has little spiritual awareness. Just enough for her to be aware, which is more than most humans have at their disposal. The gift of Sight, I believe it was called in her day.”

Hiei sneered. “Which was of little use against you, fox. She didn’t even see half your attacks when you sped them up.”

“Something you will certainly have to keep in mind,” Kurama said, a trifle coolly.

“She’s human,” Hiei spat. “There’s only so much I can do.”

“Must I remind you how far Yusuke has come since his first days as Spirit Detective?”

“Yusuke is different. He has tremendous spiritual power at his disposal. Her ‘gift’ is minimal.”

Kurama simply looked at him.

Hiei bristled. “You ask the impossible, fox.”

“Only if you believe so,” Kurama said. “‘All men can see these tactics whereby I conquer, but what none can see is the strategy out of which victory is evolved.’”

“That cryptic nonsense won’t train a weak human girl to overcome her innate worthlessness in less than two months, Kurama!”

“Then you will just have to figure out a way,” Kurama implacably replied.

“Oh, I have a way.” The fire demon’s fanged smile was chilling.



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