InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Shards of Destiny ❯ Chapter Seven ( Chapter 8 )

[ 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.

SHARDS OF DESTINY

Summary: Naraku has crossed over to the modern era, and our heroes must band together to try and stop him. But what troubles arise as old relationships are torn apart by new, and the dark spider sits spinning new webs of deceit?

A/N: Okay, a little longer chapter. Things should start moving now. (Rubbing hands with an evil cackle.) I've spent a little too much time just getting everyone together, but man, it's been fun! I think I was as startled as Hiei when I realized only two or three days have passed in eight chapters. I've taken some of your suggestions to heart, so thank you, everyone, for your continued reviews and support. (And I'm holding you to that, Guyute, about seeing more of your work! I've been dying for some Absolution, m'dear!) Please also understand that new relationships will go slowly...I just can't see two characters jumping into the sack as soon as they meet. Although, I must admit, there has been more than one untyped Mary-Sue scenario where certain sexy demons get chased around the bedroom by a cackling Fate...

Chapter Seven

They put off going to Mushiyori City when Mrs. Higurashi announced the memorial service for Kagome’s grandfather would be held the next afternoon. Yusuke eyed himself in the mirror, hating the monkey suit Kurama loaned him but hating the reason for it even more.

The jacket, overly long, was tight across the shoulders. Slipping up beside him, Kurama adjusted his tie. Yusuke, who had outright refused a similar neck-yoke, watched the tall fox with a jaundiced eye. He grudgingly admitted Kurama looked good in a suit. More comfortable, certainly.

But then, Kurama had always been a bit metrosexual. He could pull off the whole James Bond thing, looking bad ass in both jeans and a tux. Yusuke just felt rumpled and put out. But you couldn’t show up to a funeral in comfy sweats. It wasn’t respectful, and he ought to pay his respects to the old man. Bad enough he hadn’t arrived in time to save him.

At least they weren’t going to the actual funeral. That was being held off-site, as the purity of the family shrine would be tainted by death. Shinto was a religion that dealt with life. They left death to the Buddhists, which made it easy for the two religions to coexist. Yusuke wondered if Miroku, being a monk, would have any hand in the ceremony, and then shrugged, not really caring. Having attended his own funeral on one too many occasions, he tended to avoid others’ if he could.

“Kuwabara should be here shortly,” Kurama said.

“Good,” was all Yusuke said, and jammed his hands in his pockets. His borrowed pants were just a little too long, sagging over his scuffed sneakers. He’d long outgrown the one pair of loafers his mom bought him in the eighth grade. That was for Mr. Nakagawa’s funeral, their old land-lord. His mom hoped the family would give them more time on the rent if they paid their respects. They hadn’t, actually, and got kicked out three days later. His mom found a place to crash with an old biker boyfriend until she’d won some money playing pool and landed them yet another dump in another part of town.

Amazing he survived to adulthood. Urameshi Atsuko was probably drunk off her ass right now, or waking up in a pool of her own vomit after another night partying. Yusuke stopped by every few weeks just to make sure she was still live and retching. Gotta respect the woman, she really knew how to toss back a six-pack.

The front door thundered under Kuwabara’s fist, and Mrs. Minamino went to answer it. Kurama still lived with his mom and step-family, just as Kuwabara did his sister. College was expensive, and his two friends were saving money by staying at home. Only Yusuke had his own apartment, a real hole-in-the-wall he barely spent time sleeping in.

Kurama picked up some envelopes, elegantly twined with black and white cords. He handed one to Yusuke, saying, “I know you’re a little short this month, but it’s appropriate to give gifts to the family.”

Yusuke scowled, but grudgingly accepted. It wouldn’t do to show up empty-handed. “Thanks,” he said shortly. “I’ll pay you back.”

“No need,” Kurama dismissed. “My investments are paying off. Fairly well, actually. Enough so that I might be able to move into my own place next semester.”

Yusuke raised a brow but Kurama just smiled, that secretive smile that could be so uncanny.

“Hey, you guys ready?” Kuwabara poked his orange head in. The big guy looked as uncomfortable as Yusuke felt in his bright blue blazer. Being Kuwabara, it was the color of over-ripe blueberries.

“All dressed up, I see.” Yusuke smirked.

“Shut up, Urameshi.” Kuwabara tugged at his tie, which looked like it was strangling him. His loafers were so new they squeaked.

“You look very respectable,” Kurama complimented.

“My sister insisted,” he muttered, flushing.

“How is old Shizuru?” Yusuke asked, thumping his shoulder in sympathy.

“Good.” Kuwabara shrugged. “We going? We don’t wanna be late.”

“Yes, we’re going.” Kurama neatly folded his coat over his arm. The day was cloudy and promised to be a bit cool.

“Best get this over with,” Yusuke grimly said.


“It won’t work.” Kagome shook her head.

Miroku stared at her, bushy tail drooping.

“Why?” Dressed in a borrowed suit reeking of mothballs, a second Miroku joined the first. “I think it’s a good imitation. One of your best yet, Shippou.”

The other monk smiled wanly.

“It’s the tail,” Kagome said. “How can I explain the tail?”

“I’ve been working on it!” Shippou protested. “I just can’t seem to remember…”
“It’s a good effort, Shippou, but it just won’t work,” Kagome regretted. “I’m sorry, but you’ll just have to stay with Kirara while the guests are here. It should only last a few hours…”

“But…” Shippou’s lip trembled, and the illusion vanished as his concentration slipped. The handsome monk was replaced by a disconsolate fox.

Kagome knelt in front of the little boy. “I know you tried your best, but people just wouldn’t understand. They aren’t used to demons here, not like back in the day.”

Shippou sniffed back his tears. He knew it was already hard for Kagome, having to say goodbye to her grandfather. “Okay. I’ll stay up here out of sight in Souta’s room. Just remember, though, if you need me…”

Touched, Kagome hugged him. “Thank you, Shippou,” she whispered, hiding the tears in her own eyes for his gallant spirit.

“I can stay up here with him,” Miroku offered, eyes on Inuyasha, who leaned cross-armed against the wall. The hanyou scowled.

“I don’t know what all the fuss is about. It isn’t as if anyone will be paying attention to us.”

Kagome didn’t have the energy to deal with Inuyasha’s tantrums. “I have to get downstairs. My friends from school just arrived, and my mother needs me.” Brushing her dark skirt, she stood up. “Please try to behave. For Mom, if not for me.”

“Feh.” Inuyasha looked away, trying to hide his concern behind feigned indifference. For once, Kagome couldn’t notice. Her family needed her more. Slipping from the room, she gently closed the door.

“Please, let’s just do this for Kagome,” Miroku said, eyes on Inuyasha.

Irritated, the hanyou shrugged. Turning his silver head, he stared out the window at the small knots of people gathering. “Whatever,” he muttered, eyes telling a different story.


“Kagome!” Eri waved as she came down the stairs. Her friends surrounded her once she reached the bottom.

“Kagome, I’m so sorry,” Ayumi said, brown eyes teary.

“It was so sudden,” Yuka said, hugging her. “I can’t imagine how you must feel.”

“We’re all sorry,” Eri said, hugging her in turn. “It must be hard.”

“I always respected Mr. Higurashi.” Ayumi sniffled, then pressed her bundle into Kagome’s hands. “It’s a terrible loss. But then to hear that your cousins, visiting from out of town, got mugged and had all their stuff stolen!”

“Yes, that is just horrible!” Yuka agreed, holding up her recycled shopping bags.

“Who would do such a thing?” Eri demanded. “Those people should be arrested!”

Kagome blushed, hating the lie she’d told her friends. Just one more on top of so many. But she couldn’t think of another way to get Sango some clothes. Thank goodness some of her father’s old clothing fit Miroku well enough. But Sango was somewhere between her mother and her in size, and money didn’t grow on trees. Things were already tight, what with the funeral and the house needing repairs. She just couldn’t go tripping off to the mall and buy Sango a whole new wardrobe.

But her three friends had come to the rescue. Both Yuka and Eri were roughly Sango’s size, if Yuka was a little taller. Ayumi mentioned they were giving away some clothes of her dad’s after the divorce, and that led Kagome to the brilliant idea of asking for them, elaborating the “being robbed” story past all recognition. Still, it gave good excuse to Sango and Miroku’s presence here, and why they were so destitute.

Kagome’s vision blurred at their kindness.

“Oh, Kagome, don’t cry,” Ayumi urged, hugging her. “I know it hurts right now, but he’s in a far better place.”

“Yes, Kagome, it’ll be all right. You’ll see.”

“Thanks, you guys,” Kagome said, meaning it. She wiped her eyes, and smiled tremulously. “Would you like to meet her? My cousin, Sango? I know you’ll like her. I  used to imagine you meeting, what good friends you’d be…”

“Of course!“ Eri and Yuka exchanged amused glances at Ayumi’s unabashed enthusiasm. “Any friend of yours is a friend of ours…”

“I brought some shoes.” Yuka tilted a shopping bag. “She wears a size six, right?”

“Oh, yes. Thank you, Yuka. Really, you guys have done so much…”

“What are best friends for?” Eri demanded as she hooked an arm through Kagome’s. The group marched to the back of the house, where Sango was resting in the study. Kagome knocked before entering, and her three friends crowded behind her. Their eyes rounded upon sight of the slayer.

“My god, are you okay?” Eri exclaimed, never one to hold back.

“Oh,  you poor thing!” Ayumi covered her mouth with her hand.

Sango blinked. Puzzled, she looked at Kagome, who blushed. She’d forgotten all about the slayer’s bruises. They were livid against her pale skin, an ugly indigo with a sickly, yellow-greenish cast.

“Those monsters!” Yuka said. “How could they?”

“Uh…” Sango began uncertainly, and Kagome hurriedly stepped in.

“Sango, these are my best friends: Yuka, Eri and Ayumi. I told them all about you and Cousin Miroku getting mugged at the train station and having all your stuff stolen…”

“It must have been terrifying,” Ayumi said.

Sango was no slouch. She quickly caught on, saying, “It’s…uh…nice to meet you. I’m sorry, but I don’t like to talk about it.”

“Of course not.” Ayumi blushed for her rudeness.

There was a moment of uneasy silence, and then Eri plopped her bag down on the bed. “Well, I hope these will help. I brought you some things to replace the ones you lost.”

“I have shoes, here.“ Not to be outdone, Yuka opened her own bag. “And jeans. And…other things.”

“I have socks,” Ayumi said, smiling, “and some stuff for your brother.”

“Brother?” Sango whispered, clearly thinking of Kohaku.

“You know, your brother. Miroku.” Kagome laughed uneasily. “Sango’s always such a kidder. Heh-heh.”

“I’m sorry about your grandfather,” Ayumi said.

“It must be hard,” Yuka said, “on top of everything.”

“Er…”

“Oh, Sango’s a cousin on my father’s side.” Kagome quickly intervened, feeling herself getting deeper by the minute. “No relation to Gramps…”

“Oh.” Yuka looked uncomfortable. Kind-hearted Ayumi couldn’t take her sympathetic eyes off Sango’s bruises, which clearly made the slayer uncomfortable, and Kagome was uncomfortable just being in the same room with all of them.

Eri, thankfully, started edging towards the door. “You know, we haven’t paid our respects to Mrs. Higurashi yet. We should go, leave you to rest…”

“Um, thank you for bringing me the clothing. It was really nice of you,“ Sango quickly said, rather relieved they were going.

Eri shrugged her gratitude aside, and exchanged awkward looks with Yuka. Clearly, their first meeting wasn’t that auspicious. Sango was baffled by their innocence, yet touched by their kindness. They clearly didn’t know what to say, and fidgeted for a few more minutes before finally taking their leave. Kagome saw them to the door, and then sagged against it.

“You all right?” the slayer asked, concerned.

“Yeah.“ Kagome sighed. Straightening, she looked back at her. “Are you…?“

“Yes. Go, you have people to greet. We need to talk later though.” Sango smiled lightly.

“Sure.” Kagome gave her a guilty look, and then opened the door. The slayer was cautiously reaching for one of the bags, brows knit, even as she closed it.


Incense curled around the portrait of the wrinkled old priest. He looked unnaturally solemn in the black-and-white photograph. Color, he claimed, made him look old. Hugging her elbows, Kagome felt her eyes water. She thought she’d done crying, but his loss was suddenly poignant.

“Am I intruding?”

Dabbing hastily at her eyes, she turned. “Oh! Kurama.”

The handsome man came into the room, expression gentling as he took in hers. “Today must have been difficult.”

“It’s okay,” Kagome said, managing a weary smile. Her lips felt stiff, she’d been smiling so much. Thanking everyone for their consideration, trying to help her mother and comfort her brother. Most of it was a blur.

The last few people were finally taking their leave, and Kagome knew she should go join her Mom at the door. But she just needed a minute alone with her grandfather. Normally, she’d resent Kurama’s intrusion, but she felt strangely comforted by his presence.

Maybe it was because he was so quiet and steady. She didn’t feel the need to make conversation, or keep her guard up, hiding her true feelings. It grew hard sometimes to be everyone’s rock.

Kagome immediately felt guilty. She was hardly anyone’s rock. She didn’t have Sango’s strength or Miroku’s stoicism, or even Inuyasha’s determination. She was just her, which felt little enough right now.

Ah, she was just angsting because she was so tired. Today had been hard. People meant well, but their sympathy hurt. They couldn’t understand, not really, what the funny old man meant to them. Although Kagome was surprised by the turn-out. Gramps had quite the following, but then, he’d been the local priest for a long time. His death, passed off as a heart attack, had come as a shock to the community.

They weren’t the only ones. Kagome still expected to see her grandfather walk into the room, nattering about some stupid trinket and how valuable it was. Or scolding her for taking off from school and forcing him to come up with yet another disease to explain the absence. Like gonorrhea. That one really freaked her out. What could the other kids at school think of her, having a STD? Stupid Gramps! He didn’t think sometimes---  

She was suddenly crying, and couldn’t seem to stop. She blindly turned away, hating to lose her cool like that. Especially in front of someone like Kurama, always so cool and contained. But his arms came around her, and she sagged against him, burying her dark head into his chest.

He didn’t say anything, just held her. God, it felt good. Just to let someone else be strong for once. Although she wasn’t strong, not really. Not like the others. She was the weak one, the one always needing protection. She recalled numerous times when she wasn’t strong. Forever fighting fear, ghosts of the past and evil demons like Naraku…

Sometimes it took strength of a different kind. To stand there, knees quaking, and stare down the face of evil. Stand firm in what you knew was right. But Kagome didn’t feel she had that strength, either. Not really. Especially not now, blubbering all over some guy she just met. A really cute guy, too, with dreamy hair and the most incredible green eyes. And here she was, probably all splotched and snotty, getting his good suit wet…

“What the hell are you doing?”

She lifted her head as the Tetsusaiga flared to life in the angry hanyou’s hands.

“Inuyasha!” she whispered as Kurama smoothly turned them, shielding her from the giant sword.

“I suggest,” Kurama said coolly, drawing a rose from somewhere, “you reconsider.”

“Reconsider what? You groping all over Kagome?” Inuyasha snarled, raising the Tetsusaiga in both hands.

“Inuyasha!” Kagome protested. “He wasn’t---we weren’t---”

“Woah!” Yusuke suddenly appeared on the scene, friends in tow.

“Inuyasha,” Miroku said, quickly assessing the situation.

“I’m gonna make mincemeat out of you, fox!” the hanyou growled, grip tightening on his hilt until the knuckles stood out in sharp relief.

“Is this a bad time?” Yusuke inquired, arms folding.

“Isn’t it always?” A dark figure suddenly appeared beside him, red eyes snapping.

“Inuyasha!” Kagome tried to go around Kurama, but his arm shot out, encircling her waist.

“Get your filthy hands off her!” Furious, Inuyasha raised his sword over his head. “Wind---”

“Sit, boy!” Kagome yelled.

The old man’s photograph toppled at the force of her command, and Tetsusaiga dissolved upon impact.

“That’s convenient,” Hiei said, as Kurama’s rose, no longer needed, dipped.

“I’ll say.” Yusuke’s lips quirked.

“Inuyasha?” A new voice intruded, and they looked up as the slayer, dressed in mismatched clothing, limped down the hall. Miroku quickly went over to assist her. “Kagome? What’s going on?”

Closing her eyes, the miko drew a long breath at all the attention turned their way. Kurama still had one arm curled about her waist, anchoring her to his side as Inuyasha finally lifted his head up.

“Kagome,” he began.

“Not now, Inuyasha,” she said tightly, slipping free of Kurama.

“But---” he protested, hurt and bewildered.

“I said,” the miko’s fists clenched, “not now.”

Head high and chin trembling, she stalked from the room.


“Kagome,” Sango whispered, following the angry young woman with her eyes. “Miroku, what happened?”

“I’m not sure,” he said, carefully avoiding her troubled gaze. His eyes darkened at the livid bruises decorating her throat. He glared over his shoulder at the reason for them standing by Yusuke. The short demon calmly held his angry gaze.

“Go get Inuyasha---I think he needs cooling off.“ Sango dodged his silent assistance by leaning against the wall, weight off of her hurting ankle. She nodded toward the hanyou when Miroku hesitated. “Go. I’ll be all right.”

Miroku reluctantly went. For once, Inuyasha wasn’t ready to go haring off after Kagome, and the two departed out the back door. The tension noticeably dropped once they left, the three remaining men exchanging loaded looks. Sango stood stiffly against the wall watching them.

“Well, that was…something.” Yusuke ran a hand through his hair. Not a single strand moved, it was so stiff. Kagome explained he used gel to keep his hair styled. Sango wondered why on earth he bothered.

“Yes,” Kurama agreed. His look was remote under the sharp scrutiny of his friends.

“Must I remind you,” the dark demon said acidly, “we have an audience?”

The two men stiffened, eyes flitting to the slayer.

“Don’t mind me,” Sango snapped, angry at them for causing this mess, although she didn’t know how or why. Maybe it was because he was the only one to notice her. “I’m going.”

“Not so fast.” Helmet-head was suddenly there, right beside her, in a move too quick to follow. Not a comforting thought, actually.

He looked down at her, a good five inches separating them in height. Were all people from the future tall? Sango was used to being of average height, if not taller than most.

“Hn.”

Well, there was one she could still top. Maybe. Although his spiky hair---like a porcupine’s ass, she thought viciously---more than made up the difference. She detested the cold look on his face, the condescension in his red eyes.

Damn demons were all the same.

“How’s that ankle?” Yusuke was condescending, too, in a hearty way. Sango didn’t buy it.

“Well enough,” she said coldly. Just because she trusted Kurama didn’t mean she trusted his friends. And that was noticeably thinning after what seemed an argument taking place between Inuyasha and the kitsune.

“You shouldn’t be on it,” the fox said, running a distracted hand through his long hair. He kept looking at the door where Kagome left. Clearly, his mind wasn’t on her. Sango smiled wryly.

“Don’t worry,” she assured him. “I’m going back to bed.”

“Sounds tempting.” Yusuke grinned.

Sango paused. Had she heard him right? No, that couldn’t be. For a minute there, she’d mistaken him for Miroku. That hentai monk must be getting to her.

Turning, she limped back the way she came, but was suddenly swept off her feet by a pair of strong arms.

“What the…?” she sputtered, glaring up at the grinning fool, who sauntered down the hall, carrying her as if she weighed nothing.

“Easier this way,” he said, giving her a Miroku grin. Which is to say---smug. “Don’t you think?”

“No, I don’t,” she snapped. “Put me down. I can manage fine on my own---”

“But this is so much faster,” he protested, kicking open the study door. Well, she had to give him that. Sango’s lips pressed into a thin line. That didn’t mean she had to like it.  

“Down you go,” he cheerfully said, swinging her to the bed. Unnervingly, he didn’t seem in a hurry to leave.

“What’s all this?” he asked, indicating the various bags still scattered around.

“Not your concern,” she snapped.

“Hey! I’m just making nice here, trying to get to know you better. Since we’re supposed to be allies, and all…”

Sango flushed at the sincere look in his brown eyes. Wow. She was really acting like an ass, wasn’t she? She was getting as bad as Inuyasha.

“So tell me what happened,” she said evenly, nodding towards the other room.

He shrugged. “Not sure, exactly. Came in just before you did. I think Lassie didn’t like his girlfriend crying all over Kurama.”

“Kagome’s not his girlfriend,” Sango distractedly said, biting her lip and wondering how the poor girl was doing.

“Could‘ve fooled me,” the dark-haired man said, sprawling on his side at the foot of the bed. He looked entirely too comfortable, propping his head on one bent arm. “So what’s the story with them? They dating, or what?”

“Inuyasha protects her,” Sango defended. “They’re friends. That’s what friends do.”

“Well, that’s a given,” came the unexpected reply. Which was strange for a demon, even a sort-of, born-again half-one. Most demons, in Sango’s experience, took the other tack. They held little loyalty save to their own best interest. Well, except for certain nekomata and young kitsune. But those youkai, like the badger, had some history with humans, allying with them at whim. Although even kitsune had to be watched for their renowned trickery.

Sango smiled at the memory of Shippou’s little ploys to annoy Inuyasha, then frowned at the reminder of the last time Miroku talked him into tricking her. Thankfully, that bushy tail was a dead give-away. The little kitsune hadn’t yet mastered hiding it.

“You know, those look like they hurt.” The man casually pointed toward her bruises.

Sango shrugged. “Nothing’s broken.”

“Tough girl, huh?” he asked, brow quirked.

She didn’t appreciate his amusement. “I’m stronger than I look.”

“I bet.” He grinned like Kirara with a whole fish to herself.

Sango drew her knees up.

Amused, he poked his chin at the Hiraikotsu leaning against the wall. “That giant boomerang of yours weighs a ton. Nearly pulled my back out dragging it inside.”

She hadn’t known he was the one to retrieve it. She didn’t know if she should be grateful or not. He seemed the type to get…ideas.

“By the law of physics, you should have arms like a sumo wrestler. But you don’t. Why’s that?”

“That isn’t physics, Urameshi.” The giant carrot-top suddenly intruded, Kirara in his arms. “Physics is the study of---”

“I know, you idiot.” Yusuke scowled, sitting up.

“Kirara,” Sango welcomed, and the little neko sprang  for the bed.

“Ugh. You would like cats.” Yusuke watched her stalk down the bed. Kirara flicked her tails at him, tossing herself down and purring as Sango scratched her belly.

“You don’t like cats?” she asked, surprised.

“He hates them,” Kuwabara said.

“I don’t hate them!”

“Yes, you do! You said it yourself! ‘Kuwabara, I hate your cat.’”

“The word there is ‘yours.’”

“How can you hate my cat, Urameshi? Eikichi is the sweetest cat ever!”

“That damn cat yakked all over my shirt!”

“She didn’t mean to! She has a delicate stomach.”

“Well, if you quit feeding her crap, then she’d quit barfing it up all over the place!”

“Pizza,” Kuwabara said solemnly, “is not crap.”

“It is when it makes a cat crap all over my shoes!”

“That was weeks ago, Urameshi! Jeez, you sure hold a grudge.”

“I do not!” They were nose to nose now, and glare to glare. Sango couldn’t help herself, she started giggling. And once started, she couldn’t seem to stop. The pair of them looked so funny, staring at her like she’d lost her mind. But then, Yusuke chuckled in wry acknowledgment as Kuwabara straightened awkwardly.

“Uh, sorry,” he said, blushing. “I didn’t mean to start an argument in your bedroom…”

Sango waved his concern aside, and fanned the air, trying to regain her breath. Gods, that felt good. She hadn’t such a good laugh in far too long. There hadn’t been much reason to lately. But, gods, she’d needed it!


Yusuke blinked.

Her laughter bubbled up, lips curving as her eyes crinkled in the corners, showing it was a real smile, and not some half-assed thing. It completely transformed her, from someone rather pretty to something rather stunning.

And then it was gone, just like that, as Hiei appeared in the doorway. The dour demon took in the tableau with a disdainful cut of his eyes, then stared at Yusuke. The Jagan glowed green behind his bandana.

Damn kill-joy.

“That woman is here, Detective,” he said.

That woman could only mean Botan, especially with Hiei’s use of his former title. Yusuke scowled. Hiei knew he’d refused Prince Koenma’s offer. What the hell was he doing using that moniker? And what the hell did Botan want now? That pesky girl was certainly making a nuisance of herself, even without him agreeing to become Koenma‘s stooge.

“Really, Hiei, isn’t there any better way to announce me?” Botan demanded as she swept through the door. She stopped dead upon sight of Sango. “Oh! I’m so sorry. We haven’t been properly introduced. I’m Botan, Grim Reaper and---”

“Head Annoyance of the Spirit World,” Yusuke supplied.

“Really, Yusuke.” Botan drew herself up, offended.

“Don’t mind him,” Kuwabara said, arms crossing. “He hates cats.”

“You hate cats?” Botan blinked.

“I do not hate cats!”

“What are you talking about, Urameshi? You said it yourself! ‘Kuwabara, I hate---”

“All right, already! I hate cats! There, you happy?”

“I knew it!”

“Shut up, Kuwabara.”

“I can’t believe you hate cats. What kind of person hates cats?”

“I despise cats,” Hiei baited.

“You would.” Kuwabara stuck his chin out.

“Shut up, Kuwabara.”

“I can’t believe you hate cats.” Botan shook her head, stunned.

“I do not hate cats.”

“But you said---”

“Kuwabara, you idiot, if you don’t shut up right this second, I swear I’ll---”


“Not in here, please,” Sango interrupted, stroking Kirara while trying to hide her smile and failing miserably. She wondered, suddenly, if Yusuke hadn’t orchestrated the whole thing as he flopped on the bed in defeat and winked at her. No, that couldn’t be right. For he suddenly ignored her to turn impatiently to the other girl.

“So what is it now, Botan?”

“Yusuke, I know this is not the best time, but I thought you should hear before Kurama.”

“Kurama?” the dark demon demanded. His eyes grew more intent, if that were possible. Sango stiffened at the palpable tension in the air. Kirara sat up, tails twitching.

“There’s been a terrible tragedy in the Demon World. You must remember, Yusuke, Hiei, that old king Yomi had a son? About ten years old?”

“You mean, Shura?” Yusuke slowly sat up. “Yeah. Who can forget that obnoxious little brat? His shout is what saved Yomi during our match. He’s the reason Yomi finally stepped down, and went off to train with him after the Great Tournament.”

There was a story there, Sango decided, one that Yusuke wasn’t sharing.

“Never heard of him,” Kuwabara said.

“’Cause, dummy, you weren’t there.” Yusuke shook his head. “That all happened during the Great Tournament.”

“The one held three years ago to crown the king of all Demon World?” Kuwabara asked.

The king of all Demon World? There was a scary thought. Sango frowned.

“What about Shura, Botan?” Yusuke said shortly, eyes locked with Hiei’s.

“He’s dead.”

Yusuke’s eyes snapped to hers. “Dead?”

“Yes. Murdered. And no one knows who or how or why. Yomi is---was---beside himself with grief. He vowed to find the one responsible. Except…he’s vanished.”

“Vanished.”

“Yes.̶ 1;

“Vanished how?”

“No one knows.” Botan regretfully shook her head. “King Enki has people out searching, but…”

“I’ve been gone only a day. How is it,” Hiei snapped, “I never heard any of this?”

“Well, there were some who suspected Mukuro might be…” Botan looked at Yusuke for help, to no avail. She nervously pressed her forefingers together. “Well, you have to understand, Hiei, there was some question as to your own impartiality. Seeing as you and her were so…close.”

Hiei‘s eyes burned. “Close.”

Botan coughed. “Ah, yes. Well.”

“You mean since it’s well known I shared the former queen’s bed.”

Botan went beet red. “That’s putting it a little baldly, don’t you think?”

“Spirit World have a problem now with who I fuck?”

“Hiei!” Mortified, Botan glanced at Sango, who felt her own cheeks flaming. Trust a demon to be so crude.

“Uh,” Ysuuke noted her expression, “how ‘bout we take this down a notch?”

“It’s none of their business, Detective,” Hiei snapped.

“Hell, no, it’s not.” He stared at the shorter demon. Something significant passed between them, for Hiei suddenly became cold and remote. Sango had never seen someone go from so hot to cold so quickly. Her distrust grew.

Yusuke suddenly glanced at her. “Maybe we should take this somewhere else.”  

“Whatever you have to say can be said in front of me,” she said, eyes narrowing. “Since we’re supposed to be allies.”

He grinned at her throwing his own words back on him. “Okay. I can give you that.”

“Quit thinking with your pants, Detective.”

“Will you quit calling me that?” Yusuke rounded on the little punk.

“Why?” Hiei demanded. “It’s the truth, isn’t it?”

“Hardly.”

“Then why is it,” Hiei snapped, “you’re still doing their dirty work?”

Yusuke paused as Botan became flustered. “Really, Hiei! It’s not as if…”

“What the hell is going on here?” Inuyasha shoved the door open, Miroku and Shippou following. Kagome, carefully not looking at either, slid in behind them.

“Seems the cavalry’s arrived.” Folding his arms, Yusuke smirked. His expression changed, Sango noted, when Kurama followed Kagome.

“Isn’t this cozy,” the tall fox said, a certain mischief in his amused gaze.

“Yeah. Isn’t it.” Yusuke frowned. Kurama’s expression stilled when their eyes met.


Kurama showed no reaction to the news other than a slight tension across his shoulders.

“You okay?” Yusuke asked the fox.

Kurama slowly turned to look at him.

No. He wasn’t.

“You gonna be okay?” Yusuke amended.

“We should go,” Kurama said, green eyes looking into places Yusuke couldn’t see. Yomi and Kurama had a special friendship, one that spanned centuries. He must be lost in memories. Being bonded to a thousand-year-old spirit fox tended to do that to a guy.

“Tonight,” the fox emphasized, looking steadily at Yusuke. “We’ve no time to lose.”

“I think you’re right.” Yusuke sighed. Gods, it’d been a long day. It looked to be a longer night…