InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Heart Within ❯ Chapter Twenty-One ( Chapter 22 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

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.THE HEART WITHINSummary: She has carried vengeance in her shadowed heart for 500 years, sacrificing her self for that dream. Now, Sango just might get her chance… (IY/YYH crossover) A/N: I’m hurrying to post this before bed, I will leave a longer blerb on the next go. Thanks again for all the continued reviews and interest. It really does warm the soul. =) (Fate)
WARNING! SPOILERS FOR YYH BLACK AND THE THREE KINGS SAGA, BAD WORDS WITH A SQUIRT OF LIME FOR FLAVORING

Chapter Twenty-One

He was still shivering. Even folded into the thick blanket of both her cloak and his, his skin remained cool to the touch. He had not awakened, even when Yusuke had met Sango at the bank of the lake to take Hiei from her. The former Spirit Detective had tenderly carried the fire demon back to the cave, Jin following slowly with a limping Kurama, who had a wrenched shoulder and deep lacerations along his side to go with his twisted ankle.

None of them had escaped the battle unscathed---Yusuke and Jin both had bruised ribs and Jin was favoring his right hand. Two of his knuckles had broken on the crab demon’s armor, and his pinky finger was as thick as his thumb, with multiple fractures. Their injuries were minor, though, and would probably heal by morning with the help of their demon energy. Kurama and Hiei had drained themselves so thoroughly that their wounds would take longer to heal. Rest and making sure they stayed quiet would be the best she could do for them.

She had already checked on Kurama, who had directed her as to which herbs she could use to create a tisane to ease his pain. The kitsune was now sleeping the draught rather peacefully across from Hiei, on the opposite side of the shadowy cave. The mustard poultice she had made for his side after cleaning his wounds would help somewhat until he could regain his jyaki and recover on his own. She might have to change the poultice again in the morning, but that would give her time to make something for dinner, perhaps, though her brain was too numb to even start thinking about that right now.

She was exhausted, but she was the most fit out of all of them. Well, maybe not---Yusuke already seemed to be bouncing back, and was now doing his enthusiastic best to gather more wood for their cook-fire. Jin was taking his ease, as he called it, up on the cave’s roof, snoozing in the late afternoon sun as he let his jyaki do what it needed to in order to heal his fingers. Sango had offered to splint them, but he’d just shaken his head and told her not to worry her pretty little head a bit about it.

Sango was truly concerned over Hiei. Although his friends had reassured her that it was not unusual for the fire apparition to pass out and sleep like the dead after calling on the Dragon of the Darkness Flame, she did not like how low his body temperature was. Normally, the demon was warmer to the touch than a typical youkai; it was part of his elemental nature. But he shouldn’t be shivering, as if he had the chills of a fever that was not there, and Sango didn’t know what more she could do besides make him comfortable.

Which he hardly looked, with no pillow but a fold her cloak for his spiky head, which was turned toward the wall. Kneeling beside him, Sango felt his forehead again, shaking her head in confusion at the cool dryness beneath her palm. He did not show any of the signs of a fever as she knew them, but she was uneasy with his continued shivering.

A sudden thought intruded, and Sango frowned. Her eyes were drawn to the dark folds that surrounded his right arm, which was hidden beneath the makeshift blanket of his trench coat, her larger cloak wrapped loosely over it. Her brows drew together, and she remembered with a shiver herself the dark dragon that lay ever seething just under the surface. With his defenses down as he slept, would the hungering shadow of the dragon follow him into his nightmares, as Naraku’s mocking laughter often chased her in her darkest dreams?

One often held the darkness close, not only to embrace it to them for the strength it gave, but also to stave off the madness that it might bring. Waking Hiei was out of the question, but perhaps she could offer him the mere comfort of her presence. She had often done so with Kohaku, when bad dreams had troubled his sleep.

Ah, well, it couldn’t hurt, and she wouldn’t mind taking out a minute or two to rest. So she set herself down beside the oblivious fire demon, back against the wall, and pulled him over just enough so that his head rested on her thigh. She was reminded of how she had sat like this with her little brother, when he was younger, although that had been a long, long time ago. But the memory made her smile softly, and she smoothed back an errant strand of his wild black hair, glad that there was no one to see the tender gesture.

Hiei looked so innocent and peaceful as he slept, as if he were incapable of bearing the terrible darkness that lurked behind those bandages on his right arm. Yusuke had carefully rewrapped the protective bindings around the black serpent tattoo that decorated the demon’s skin, tucking the ends in firmly before taking his weight from Sango so that he could carry him back to the cave. Sango had carefully dried their wet clothing, using a gentler breeze than the blast Jin had used three nights ago during the rainstorm.

Her hand hovered over his mouth, her fingers not quite touching the normally hard line that was softened in sleep. Her lashes lowered as she abruptly remembered the feel of those same lips against hers---a quick, hard pressure that was gone almost before she could even register that he was, in fact, kissing her. She flushed, her hand dropping to her side as she stared unseeingly at the stone wall across from her.

Leave it to Hiei to stop right in the middle of a damn battle just so he could claim his victory at winning Jin’s stupid “test.” Really, she should read nothing more into the gesture than what it was---his youkai arrogance getting the better of his sense.

Closing her eyes, she wearily leaned her head back against the cave’s wall. Just a few minutes and then she would get up and see what Kurama might have in his basket that she could use to make up a rough meal. She didn’t think any of them would have the energy to hunt tonight…


Kurama opened his eyes, a slight smile touching across his lips as he realized the slayer had fallen asleep. He sat up, careful of his injuries, and picked up his torn over-robe. Anei had draped it over him like a blanket after she had carefully cleaned the deep lacerations along his side. Strips had been torn from his shirt to make a rough bandage to hold the mustard pack in place. She had ministered his wounds with a gentle and deft efficiency, no stranger to rough first aid.

He sighed, rather envious of how Hiei’s head rested on her lap. She was slumped against the cave wall, her chin almost resting on her hunched shoulder. She would get a crick in her neck if she slept like that for too long, and the dark circles under her eyes were telling. She had used a lot of energy herself in fighting the crab-demon and would need time to recover it.

Hiei grimaced in his sleep and tucked his head into the fold of her cloak as he shivered lightly. Kurama frowned, concerned by the demon’s exhaustion and low reserves. He had fed a lot of his jyaki into the Dragon, which always demanded a high price for its summoning. But the enormous crab-demon had taken time for even the formidable Dragon of the Darkness Flame to subdue and overcome, and Hiei had fed more of his power into it than even when he had battled the rogue detective, Sensui. Kurama didn’t like to think how much he had used; it would take more time for the apparition to recover, and the only thing any of them could do for him was to keep him warm and quiet.

Which would give him just enough of an excuse to go curl up with them. Kurama smiled, shaking his head over his own silent need for self-justification, and gingerly got up long enough to resettle himself beside them. Careful of his wrenched shoulder and to avoid reopening any of his wounds, he coaxed Anei down, with Hiei curled against her. Using his over-robe as a blanket between them---lest Hiei wake up offended that he slept so close beside him---he used Hiei’s coat to cover the sleeping pair and drew Anei’s longer cloak over all of them. He felt Hiei shift slightly away from him, and sighed. Already their shared warmth had eased Hiei’s shivering, and Kurama could feel his own eyes growing heavy with sleep. Relaxing beside the two of them, he finally let himself, certain that Yusuke and Jin could take care of everything else.


“Will you look there at that? All curled up like puppies they is.”

Yusuke shrugged. “Seems smart to me. They’re all low on demon energy, and only forty winks’ll set ’em straight.”

“Oh, I don’t be saying there’s anything wrong with it. Surprising, is all.” Jin smirked, as if he suddenly realized something Yusuke didn’t. When the detective shot him a questioning look, the wind demon only returned his shrug and said lightly, “Oh, nothing it is but me envious that the wee mite gets to lay his pointy head on me fair Lily’s sweet bosom. A softer pillow I can ne’er imagine.”

“You’re a real perv, you know that, Jin?” Yusuke shook his shaggy head, turning to leave the three of them alone to sleep it off.

“Ah, don’t be acting all pure and saintly, lad. I dare to think the same thought’s crossed your mind a time or two, eh, Urameshi?” Jin elbowed him in the ribs, carefully keeping his right hand out of the way.

Yusuke snorted, but shot his incorrigible friend a grin that said he was right.

“Ah, well, best to leave these three alone for now. I’m a wee bit hungry, lad, and seeing as it’s just us, I’ve a mind to see what Kurama might have in that wee little basket of his.”

“Yeah. I don’t feel comfortable leaving the cave. You ain’t that healed yet.”

“And ye are?” Jin looked at him askance as they ducked back outside.

Yusuke shrugged. “I feel fine, now. A bit sore, earlier, but that’s gone.”

Jin gave him a long, measuring look, his normally merry blue eyes growing serious. “You know, lad, that you’ve become much stronger than I since last’s we fought.”

“What---this morning?” Yusuke smirked. “I thought I was doing a pretty good job of kicking your ass, Jin, until that damn demon showed up.”

“Aye, you were.” The taller demon turned away abruptly, stalking to the hill’s edge and staring out at the forest beyond. The wind stirred, lightly rippling the demon’s clothing as the wide line of his shoulders tightened.

A dark brow rose in question as Yusuke silently regarded his friend.

The youkai’s words were low, his odd accent thick as he said slowly, “I’ve no liking for that, I must admit. To be so weak---it doesna sit that well with me. Knowing that you’ve grown so much stronger than I.”

Yusuke crossed his arms, wondering where Jin was going with this.

The Shinobi turned his head just enough to look back at his friend. His smile was rueful. “You and I---we’re much alike, aren’t we, Urameshi? I think you might comprehend what drives me so---to fight, and to get stronger. To be using me own fists on a man, when I could so easily use the wind?”

Brown eyes warm with complete understanding, Yusuke only said shortly, “Yeah. I know.”

Jin faced the forest once more, his fists curling at his sides. “’Tis why I’ve stayed Shinobi so long---to learn all I can, and use what I’ve learned, and to be of some use whilst doing what it is that I truly love.”

“Yeah?” Yusuke could understand that, too. He was curious about the wind apparition’s past, but Jin just shook his head.

“It’s not enough anymore, Urameshi. I thought it could be---but after the Dark Tournament, and seeing you all again, well, it’s just---not.”

Yusuke waited, knowing Jin was working out whatever he needed to and would take time to get to the point.

Jin glanced back at him again, his blue eyes troubled. “You’ll be remembering the true reason we Shinobi agreed to take part in the Dark Tournament?”

Yusuke nodded. Looking around for the nearest rock, he sat himself and leaned forward so he could drop his elbows on his knees. “Yeah, I do. You were promised Hanging Neck Island if you won.”

“It was a place we wanted, a place we could call our own. We don’t have that, being Shinobi. We guard all, but have nothing. ’Tis the way of it, the way it’s always been. To keep us untied to any place, or anyone, with no loyalty or worry of those left at home to cloud our judgment. ’Tis a rootless life, but we’re not free, for still we answer to those above us, who have life or death over us, and we go by their whims, and not our own. It’s a freedom from care, yes, but no a true freedom, you see.”

Yusuke’s dark gaze was troubled as he said quietly, “I’m sorry you lost, Jin. If anyone deserved to have their wish granted, it was you guys.”

Jin smiled faintly. “Aw, it’s no so bad to be beaten fair and square and by a man such as yourself, Urameshi. It was a good long fight we had, and even Touya would be the first to say that. Unlike most of the bouts we engage in, it was an honorable loss. That counts for a lot, lad.”

The wind demon shrugged. Stalking over, he seated himself across from the Mazoku. “Besides, it was Touya who truly desired a place of his own. He dislikes being a Guardian even more than I, for he’s no say in who his sect-brothers are. There’s more like that earth-turd Risho---who’ve no honor in ’em even worth the bother of spitting at---in our ranks than not, sad as am I to the admitting of it.”

Jin shook his head. “But I think the island was just a symbol to him, to Touya, I mean. What it is we both want is just to be free to make our own choices and our own decisions, to pursue what it is we would like and to have friends and shield-brothers worthy of the name, yes?”

“Why do you stay, then, Jin? If you and Touya hate it so much, why bother?” Yusuke demanded, for both of those demons deserved more than that.

“Ah, well, it’s no so simple a thing, lad.” Jin frowned. “There’s our oaths to consider, and our honor. We gave our word, both of us, agreeing to be taught by our Masters, and to be bound by their laws. We were young, yes, but we were old enough to the agreeing to it and knowing what it meant. ‘Tis truth that I sought only to learn whatever I could to get stronger, and that was enough to keep me content for a long time. But it’s just not now, for the worthiest opponent it is I have ever met has soundly beaten me, and it would have been twice now, if that wee little crabby hadn’t crawled out of the earth and interrupted us.”

‘Wee little crabby’ was a little on the flip side. The understatement made Yusuke grin, for only Jin could ever put it in such an irreverent way. He ran a hand through his shaggy hair, again wishing he had some gel to slick it back, and stirred uncomfortably as Jin gave him a long look.

“I don’t think, Urameshi, that you know what it is you do to a youkai, just by being yourself. You make him question his own reasons for the things he does, and make him wonder if there isn’t more that he could be doing. I don’t know if Demon World is ready for you, for you’re one of those rare ones who has the way of turning everything inside out and right on its head, and I don’t think you’ll ever be grasping that.”

Yusuke gave the Shinobi a dubious look. “You sure you didn’t get knocked on the head a bit by that wee demon, Jin, and get a case of the crabs? Because you’re sure ain’t making a lot of sense right now.”

Jin burst out laughing, the tension easing from him as he let it go. “Ah, it should be interesting, it should, Urameshi! And I do think ye’ve just given me enough of a reason not to care what dishonor I have for breaking me word to the Shinobi. And I think it might be that Touya will finally agree, for there’s changes a’coming, there is. I just don’t know if Makai will be that ready for it!”

Yusuke just raised a thick brow, which set the wacky wind-bag off again. He waited impatiently for the demon to quit howling, hating the fact that he didn’t understand the joke. But he had to smile when Jin finally wiped the tears from his eyes and grinned back at him, for that spark of light was back in the merry blue gaze. Jin looked like he had somehow found a new purpose, though Yusuke couldn’t quite explain what it was or how he had had anything to do with it. He was just glad Jin was over that somber fit of his, for the crazy bastard made one sorry ass wet blanket, damn it.


Something was tickling her forehead. Sango stirred drowsily, her eyes opening slowly as morning intruded. She was warm and curled around a firm weight that lay against her chest, though the sensation was not unwelcome. The odd, sleepy thought roused her, and she looked down, surprised at the spiky black head that nestled against her. His cheek lay along the curve of her breast, his arm draped along her waist and hip, his fingers loosely brushing her lower back. But her arm was across his back, holding him close, and he slept so soundly, turned into her warmth, that she could not hide the soft expression it evoked.

The tickle against her forehead returned, and she blinked up at the fine red hair that was brushing her skin. Her eyes widened as she realized that Kurama was curled around both of them, his head close to hers as they lay on either side of the fire apparition. The fox’s right arm was bent under his cheek to form a pillow, the other arranged along his side, as if careful not to touch the fire demon who lay between them---though it just might have been that he was trying to keep his wrenched left shoulder still.

He must have felt her eyes upon him, for even as she watched, the thick lashes stirred and his eyes opened, revealing the dark green richness of their verdant depths.

She blushed, disconcerted by his enigmatic gaze, and his mouth curved in a gentle smile. “Good morning,” he whispered, his breath warm on her cheek.

“Hi.” What an incredibly lame thing to say, and she was mentally kicking herself even as she said it, the heat rising up her cheeks. She glanced down at Hiei, wondering if she could disentangle herself without disturbing him, and just how quickly she might.

“You don’t have to get up,” Kurama said softly.

Sango couldn’t meet his eyes. She needed to, actually, for she couldn’t believe the compromising position she found herself in and wanted to die of pure embarrassment. But Hiei seemed to somehow sense her wish to withdraw, for his contrary ass was turning even more into her, his cheek rubbing restlessly against her rising nipple as he muttered in his sleep. His bandaged arm tightened around her waist, hugging her to him like a giant body pillow.

“He shouldn’t be awakened,” Kurama said mildly. Sango shot him a look, but he returned her suspicion with a bland expression.

“It’s our body warmth---it helps to keep his thermal temperature high enough so that he doesn’t have to expend the extra energy to warm himself,” Kurama explained. His calm, logical tone actually relaxed Sango, for it gave her an excuse not to feel so mortified by the way she was lying under her cloak with two male youkai.

She nodded slightly, to show her understanding, and sighed, letting the tension go from her shoulders as she relaxed back into the sleepy warmth. Hiei seemed to take it as a signal to settle even more into her side, and she stiffened right back up as he turned his face into the valley between her breasts, his slow, even breaths warming her skin even through the fabric of her clothing. Color flooded her cheeks as her breath caught at the disturbingly erotic feeling, and her eyes flickered up to meet Kurama‘s, who was smiling faintly, his expression a bit wry.

“It’s early yet,” he said, his voice the merest whisper. Sango could hear the distinctive snores of both Yusuke and Jin lying somewhere beyond them, and the grey-blue shadows of just before dawn were still thick around the cave.

She looked up, meeting his eyes. “Are you feeling better?” she asked, concerned, for he had been injured as well.

“Yes.”

She nodded, wondering what else she might ask and if she should even bother. It was rather intimate, talking with him like this with Hiei lying between them. He didn’t say anything, but she could feel his eyes still on her, so she closed hers to escape just how self-conscious it made her feel.

She must have fallen asleep again, for when she next awoke, Kurama was gone, as were Yusuke and Jin, for the cave was quiet. The shadows were thicker, as the light of day cast a starker contrast to the deep-set interior of the cave. Hiei was no longer plastered against her, but it was still a task to extricate herself without disturbing him. He rolled into the warmth left by her body, oblivious, but she could sense that his energy, though still low, had returned enough that she was no longer needed.

Running a distracted hand through her tangled hair, Sango walked outside, wondering if the rest of them were out there and what they might have to say about last night’s sleeping arrangements. Jin and Yusuke had a bad habit of teasing her over anything they could get away with. She knew she’d probably be in for it, and was wary as she stepped outside.

She needn’t have worried, though, for the Mazoku and the wind apparition were distinctly absent from the rocky hilltop. Kurama was there, relaxing against the wall as he mended his torn shirt with her needle and thread. Sango blushed upon seeing him, but he only smiled.

“Good morning, Anei.”

“Uh…good morning.” She didn’t know what to do with her hands, which was strange, for she was not one to fidget. Still, she had the absurd notion to bury them in her pockets, and felt all twitchy and hyper-aware of the kitsune’s regard. Shrugging uneasily, she went to her belongings, which were piled haphazardly beside the cave’s entrance, to look for her comb so she could at least tie up her hair.

“Oh---my apologies, but I borrowed your comb.” Kurama extended it, and Sango blushed again as she took it from him. She could not meet his eyes, and her embarrassment and tension must have been obvious, for Kurama said softly, “Anei, are you all right?”

“Of course,” she replied easily, though she was tapping the comb on the open palm of her other hand as she bit her lip. She was acting like an idiot, but couldn’t seem to stop herself.

“Anei---”

“Everything is fine, Kurama, truly.” Sango turned away, and then paused. She had been purposefully avoiding the kitsune ever since that day he had kissed her in the forest, and the strain of it was driving her crazy. She wasn’t one who normally backed down from a confrontation, but she had been doing just that, and all because she had no idea where to even start, but that was completely ridiculous. Kurama had just been caught up in the moment, as her acceptance of the jyaki surrounding them had heightened the energies to where he could not help himself. So it was really her fault that he had been caught up like that, for it was probably just her untrained jyaki seeping out of her in a joie de vive like it had when she had influenced those demons to a maddened blood-lust.

So it was up to her to apologize, and try and explain, for the silent strain of her avoidance was not his fault, either, and he didn’t deserve that.

Taking a deep breath, she turned back. “Kurama, I…wanted to…explain. And apologize. About what happened the other day, in the forest---just before we met Jin.”

Looking up at her, he waited quietly, the needle stilled in his lap.

“Um, well, I just wanted to say I’m sorry.” Sango blushed, feeling even more like an idiot beneath his patient gaze. Emotions had never been easy for her to deal with, even more so after deliberately ignoring them for so many years. She felt like a teenager again, and her normal poise had deserted her. So she rushed it out before she turned coward again. “For…influencing you. For making you…kiss me. I know that we were both caught up in the moment, and that it was probably just my jyaki going out to, well, to…”

“Anei.”

She watched as he deliberately set his mending aside to stand up. She couldn’t seem to stop staring at him, for his compelling green gaze had caught hers and she couldn’t look away. Her head tilted back as he drew closer to her, for there was nearly a foot between them in height. She hadn’t realized just how tall he was when standing next to her. It was a bit intimidating, and she reflexively took a step back.

His left hand shot out to lightly grip her wrist. “Wait.”

She trembled at his touch, for his fingers were warm and her reaction startling. She could feel her breath coming short and her heart speeding up. It confused her, and she suddenly wanted to run.

“Please.”

His quiet request, the plea mirrored in his green eyes and grave expression made her come to her senses. This was Kurama, who had been nothing but kind to her, and she was just over-reacting.

She deliberately relaxed, nodding slightly so he would know that he could let her wrist go. He didn’t, though. Instead, his thumb was lightly smoothing over the sensitive flesh at the base of her palm. It sent butterflies dancing in her stomach, and she swallowed, her throat suddenly dry.

“It wasn’t that.”

His voice was soft, deep, like honey. Like then, in the forest.

“Then what was it?” she whispered, uncertain why she was trembling and why it was suddenly so hard to breathe.

His right hand rose, his fingertips tracing a delicate path along the curve of her cheek. The gesture was achingly tender. “It’s you.”

She closed her eyes as his warm palm cupped her cheek, his thumb gently grazing her bottom lip. She drew in a sharp breath of pain at the simple, overwhelming gesture. It was something she had not felt in so very, very long. But there were reasons why she had not, reasons that she could not abandon now when they were so nearly in her grasp.

So she turned her head sharply away, jerking her wrist out of his grasp and deliberately wrapping her arms around herself like a shield. She could feel Kurama stiffen behind her, and her eyes and nose burned with the tears of regret that she refused to let fall, damn it, for she had chosen her path long before and it didn’t matter, it didn’t.

She couldn’t let it, for it might shatter her if she did.

But she owed him more than just a cold withdrawal, for it was not his fault, and a part of her still believed that he deceived himself. He had just been caught up in the moment, and how could he not? For he was so empathic, and who knew how her own feelings had seeped out of her that day to influence him? But she thought that he believed it was more, and she could humor that delusion, one that he would abandon eventually, given enough time.

She turned back to face him, her eyes probably too bright and her voice too husky. “Kurama, please understand, it’s not you. I---there is just too much that I, that I---have to do. My brother…Naraku…”

There was a veil over his expression, one that hadn’t been there before. He nodded once, the motion both sharp, understanding, and dismissive. That control of his that she envied so much was back, the walls firmly in place. She should have been glad, for it made it easier to put her own walls back up, but instead it just made her sad.

So much had over the long years. And perhaps that was why she felt the need to explain to him that it wasn’t him, but her, for she knew very well how carefully separating yourself from others, keeping your emotions contained and your inner self hidden could end up costing you so very much. If her own reasons hadn’t been so strong, than that cost might not have even been worth it.

“Kurama, please don’t think it’s you. If I were---if things were different---you---I never thought that I could ever find again someone who---I could trust so completely. Who could be so kind. Who makes me feel as if there was more to life than…”

*Hatred and vengeance…betrayal and pain…*

But those were hers. Her reasons and her thoughts to keep tight within her, for bitter as they were, they kept her steadfast to her cause.

“I understand.” His voice held no inflection, and he turned stiffly away, as tightly shielded as she. She couldn’t bear it, not for him, who had such a giving heart. One she had once had herself, but one the countless, empty years had stolen from her. He had managed somehow to keep what she had not, and she didn’t want him to ever close that off. She couldn’t have stood it.

So her hand shot out to stop him, as his had hers, though she grabbed his upper arm, which was bare, for he wore only his sleeveless over-robe, his shirt having been abandoned with her needle and thread when he stood up. His skin was warm under her touch, the muscles tensing as he froze, not looking at her.

“Please---Kurama, I don’t like that we---”

“But we aren’t.” He finally turned his head to look at her. His smile was gentle and reassuring, but it did not reach his eyes, which were closed to her reading. She thought she saw sadness there, but she must have been mistaken, for it was gone, replaced by a wistful good humor. His reaction surprised her so much that she let his arm go when he gently pulled it free from her grasp.

“I understand, Anei. I do. Please accept my sincere apology for behaving in such a crass manner. It was an impulse of the moment, and I beg your forgiveness for it.”

She blinked in sudden confusion, for somehow he had managed to twist their roles around, and he was somehow apologizing to her for what she had done to him.

“I hope this will not affect our friendship---for I hope that we have come to know each other enough in the past eight days that you would consider me that---a friend.”

Had she but imagined that he had cupped her cheek in his palm? That he had said that he was drawn to her, and that it was not impulse? But she was suddenly uncertain, for he was so sincere in his plea for forgiveness, and his bearing was so different now, solicitous and…courteous. Friendly.

“Of…of course.” She stuttered it out, still confused by the sudden change in his demeanor, and wondered if she was losing her mind, imagining feelings that had never even been there.

“I’m glad.” He seemed sincere, and she bit her lip, still not quite sure how this had suddenly turned into---

But her thought was abruptly cut off as her spiritual sense went wild, screaming at her that there was someone or something both dangerous and powerful approaching. She spun just as Kurama tensed, a rose already in his hand as his green eyes narrowed. Sango backed up a step and then dove for her sword, pulling it free and holding it ready as she crouched defensively by the kitsune’s side. The three beings who suddenly materialized on the hilltop had such concentrated raw power between them that it had her hands tightening on her hilt as adrenaline flooded her limbs in instinctive reaction.

The youkai each wore the face of humanity, sporting the bald head and austere uniform of a monk, though embroidered and with more of a military cut. Their short, grey-blue robes left plenty of room to maneuver. They were tall and broad-shouldered, though the one in the middle stood a few inches shorter than his companions. He appeared the leader, for he stopped the one on his left with a single word as the apparition bristled, his eyes narrowing on their drawn weapons.

“Touhou.”

The demon subsided, though his aggressive gaze raked both of them with disdain as he did. He had a nose on him that could have plowed a field, though it appeared he had broken it sometime in the past.

“I don’t know what business you have with us, strangers, but I am interested to know why you have come here so unexpectedly,” Kurama said courteously enough, but his voice was sharp and cold. He did not loosen his grip on the rose held in his hand.

“Please. We wish no argument with you.” The shorter man stepped forward to bow. His smile did not reach his eyes. “We are here to speak with Yusuke Urameshi.”

“Why?” Kurama demanded, his fingers tightening imperceptibly on the thorny rose as Sango’s brown eyes narrowed.

“None of them have been sent by Spirit World,” she advised the fox to dispel that notion, if he had had it. King Yama still had a price out on Yusuke’s head, after all.

“That is correct,” the leader reassured them as the aggressive one, Touhou, stared at Sango.

“You are a human.” His eyes glittered, and he suddenly looked hungry.

Sango’s lip curled in disgust as she bared her teeth. “I’m also a demon slayer who rather enjoys what I do for a living.”

“Anei.” It was Kurama’s turn to interfere as she traded glares with the odious jerk.

Ignoring Kurama’s cautionary warning, she slid her dark gaze to Touhou’s leader. He had a nose on him that was sharp enough to slice through anything. The third had a distinctively hooked beak, and strangely, he kept his eyes closed and did not open them once during the entire meeting.

“I want to know who you are and who you are with, and you will tell me, now.” The ice in her voice was matched by the sharp glitter in her dark eyes. Kurama seemed surprised by the sudden change in her, but she had been too long a taiji-ya not to know what kind of powerful demons she was dealing with. And demons this arrogant were never ones to treat lightly.

“A fair enough question.” Pointy Nose nodded his respect, but smoothly reasserted his dominance of the situation with that simple phrase. This was a demon used to command and having those commands carried out both quickly and without question. Sango wondered if Kurama had caught the subtle commandeering of the conversation.

The kitsune had, for he snatched it back by his own gracious nod and assertion, “A fair question indeed. And one I am assured you will answer promptly.”

Checked by the red-haired demon’s subtle goading and calm demeanor, Pointy Nose bowed his head, a faint smile of acknowledgement gracing his lips. This time it was in his eyes. “Allow me to introduce my colleagues. Seitei,” he gestured to his right, and the bald man bowed his head slightly, “and Touhou.” Touhou’s nod was perfunctory, his sneer still evident.

“I am Hokushin.” His bow was deeper than before, more respectful, though his dark eyes narrowed slightly. “And you, if I may assert, are Youko Kurama, whose name is known throughout Demon World.” He turned to Sango. “Your name, however, my lady, escapes me…?”

“You may call me Anei,” Sango said coldly, her manner as withdrawn and haughty as a duchess, now every inch the professional assassin who had worked for the mighty King Yama and dealt with many a pompous ass in the past. “It is as good as any other that I have been called.”

Kurama gave her a sharp look of question, but Sango ignored it. That last remark had been too hasty and arrogant, and a bit too revealing. She deflected the thorny problem by demanding sharply, “Now that we have introduced ourselves, perhaps you would be so kind as to tell us what business it is you have with our friend Yusuke. For we don’t take prevarication lightly.”

Hokushin smiled. “I cannot fault your loyalty, Miss Anei. The Spirit Detective is lucky to have---”

“The Spirit Detective is lucky to have what?”

Yusuke was suddenly there, a suspicious Jin floating at his elbow. He put his fists on his hips and stared the three demons down with a decidedly suspicious gaze. Taken aback by the Mazoku’s sudden appearance, the monks actually looked at each other, as if discomfited by the boy’s gaze, which could be rather intense at times.

Yusuke smirked. “What, cat got your tongue?” He turned to Kurama. “Shame on you, Kurama, for holding out on me. I didn’t know you were going to get a surprise party going for my birthday. Though it wasn’t exactly polite of you to invite guys I’ve never even met. That’s not exactly the kind of surprise I was hoping for.”

Jin’s face screwed up as he tried to keep from laughing. Even Sango had a hard time keeping her amusement from showing. Kurama didn’t even bother, though his warm gaze never left the three monks as he smiled faintly.

Ignoring their reactions, Yusuke walked forward so that he was positioned in front of his friends, who automatically ranged themselves behind him. Sango was discomfited to find herself neatly sandwiched between Kurama and Jin, neither of who took their eyes from the three demons.

Assuming a negligent pose that was belied by the intensity of his gaze, Yusuke demanded, “Now, Mr. Clean, why don’t you start explaining just what you are doing here?”

Hokushin’s gaze was measuring, though not cautious. He straightened, regaining his arrogant aplomb as he said simply, “We are here at the behest of our King, the Master of War, Toushin Raizen.”

Kurama’s eyes narrowed as Jin stiffened. Sango suddenly remembered that the kitsune had said that this forest was located in the disputed borderlands between the demon-king’s and Reikai-claimed territories. She wondered idly what the King would want with Yusuke.

“So?” Yusuke drawled, his head tilting slightly to the side as his eyes narrowed. “I don’t know the guy.”

“Oh, but you do, Mr. Urameshi. For our great King is your ancestral father, and he has requested an audience with you.” Hokushin’s eyes glittered as he waited for their reaction after dropping that particular bomb.

“Really? Well, that’s convenient.”

Sango blinked, not certain if Yusuke was being sarcastic or not, for he said the words so mildly. But his voice hardened, as did the thick line of muscle along his shoulders.

“Because I’ve been wanting to wrap my hands around that fucking bastard’s throat for a while now, and how convenient of him to come to me, thus saving me the trouble of finding his sorry ass myself.”

His smile did not reach his eyes.