Yu Yu Hakusho Fan Fiction / Fan Fiction ❯ In Omnia Paratus ❯ Sunnydale, California ( Chapter 2 )

Anonymous Reviewer(s)

 

xhu: Thanks for your review! I updated as fast as I could, but—well, I'm a slow reviewer. Sorry. And I'm glad you understand at least MOST of this—except Dean and Sam, probably, since they aren't characters of Yu Yu OR Buffy OR Angel…if there's anything you need explained about them, though, drop me an e-mail at LilFoxSpirit9@aol.com and I'll tell you anything you want!

 

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University of California: Sunnydale

 

The students of U.C. Sunnydale were all thoroughly excited.

Well, being American college students, they were always thoroughly excited, but this was the time of year in which they were wildest. Summer was approaching, midterms were nearly over, and they were almost free of this stifling place for three full months.

So it was really no wonder that the entire student body was acting like a pack of baboons.

 

Or…most of them, anyway.

 

XXX

 

Why did I do this again? Suuichi “Kurama” Minamono asked himself irritably as he was nearly knocked flat by a very large group of very happy frat brothers who took absolutely no notice of him as they swarmed—there was really no other word for it—across the campus. He tried very hard to remember his reasons for being here as he dodged yet another person. There had been reasons, of that he was reasonably sure…

 

Flashback—a month ago—the Spirit World

 

“I need to see Koenma,” Kurama repeated, his voice heavily layered with annoyance as he spoke the words into the intercom for the second time.

 

“Please state your business.”

 

“I told you! I don't know my business!” Kurama said, his voice swelling. “Good God, you know who Kurama is! Koenma made me come here, and it's taking a huge chunk out of my day, so open up and let me in!” Kurama was getting very impatient, which was unusual—the fox-demon-turned-human very rarely gave himself over to any emotion—but the Reikai prince had pulled him away from the utter relaxation that came with the weekend, which was an incredibly rare thing now that he was in college.

 

There was a moment of silence from whoever was speaking into the intercom, and then a new voice sounded over it. “Kurama-san?”

 

Kurama gave a smile of triumph. “Yes, George, it's me. New guy?”

 

A heavy sigh came from the intercom, and the speaker said in a long-suffering voice, “Yes, and I have to show him the ropes. I'm sorry we kept you waiting.”

 

The tension in Kurama's shoulders fell easily away—he wasn't dealing with idiots anymore, so he could afford to speak as a friend to a friend. “Don't worry about it—you didn't pull me away from my Saturday. Just let me in so I can freeze Koenma out.”

 

“Of course, Kurama.

 

XXX

 

The palace of the Reikai—the Spirit World—is, of course, an extremely busy place at the best of times. It is the job of workers here to collect the souls of all who have passed on, and to move them to whatever plane of existence they are meant to go to next. It is a job that requires hard work and dedication—and a lot of running around and shouting.

 

But Kurama was used to the chaos—he easily sidestepped every worker that nearly ran him over as he made for the double doors that were his destination, and a couple of minutes later they closed behind him with a decided thud, shutting out sound completely. Kurama stood for a moment and allowed the silence to envelop him.

 

This office hadn't changed since the last time Kurama was here. The tiled floor and white walls were spotless from the door to about halfway in, but the large brown wooden desk and the floor around it were covered in stacks of paperwork, some stamped in the sign of the Reikai, some unmarked.

 

“Good afternoon, Koenma.” Kurama made his voice stiff and formal, though he had known the person he spoke to for many years now, because that always made the other uncomfortable and right now he very much wanted Koenma to feel uncomfortable.

 

And then the person in the chair spoke, and drew attention to himself. It needed to be drawn, too—the speaker was a small child, looking no older than a toddler. He had even worn a pacifier once, hard worn it for centuries, but it was gone now, lost a few years before in battle with Makai—the Demon World. Even his voice was child-like in that it was high and very young, but it as also clear and serious in a way that no child's could ever be. If you listened at all, it was obvious that this was the voice of a man.

 

No, Koenma was no child. He had not been a child for centuries, maybe millennia.

 

Koenma was the Prince of the Reikai, son of Yama, King of the Reikai, and one day long from now he would take control. And he was also Kurama's boss, commander, whatever you wanted to call it, and Kurama was technically required to follow his orders like everyone else.

 

But Koenma hadn't taken over for his father yet, and despite all outward appearances he and Kurama were friends before they were boss and worker, so Kurama was allowed some leeway.

 

“Ah, Kurama, good to see you!”

 

“Mm-hmm. Wish I could say the same, but I don't really want to be here on a Saturday, so that would only be a lie.”

 

Koenma smiled and wasn't offended. In fact, he didn't comment at all except to observe, “I stand by what I said the last time I saw you—he's changed you a lot.”

 

Kurama smiled back and suddenly didn't have to force himself not to be annoyed. “Yes. But why am I here?”

 

“Right. Well, I have an assignment for you.”

 

He seemed oddly reluctant, and Kurama felt himself tense again. “Why didn't you call Yusuke, then?” he asked slowly. “He's our leader, not me.”

 

“Because this isn't an assignment for them. Not yet, anyway.” At Kurama's look, Koenma sighed. “Why don't you sit?”

 

“Because I never do. Get to the point.”

 

And Koenma did, with admirable swiftness. “I'm sending you to the United States.”

 

There was a moment of silence, unbroken by the noise that still had to be going on outside. “…Come again?”

 

“The United States. Sunnydale, California, to be exact.”

 

Kurama was well-practiced in hiding his emotions, but now he gaped openly at Koenma. “That's thousands of miles from here.” It was all he could think to say.

 

“Yes, it is,” Koenma agreed.

 

“And you want us to just pack up and leave.”

 

“No, I want you to pack up and leave.”

 

“What?”

 

“Kurama, please, just hear me out before you get mad. Let me explain the situation.”

 

Kurama stared at him for a moment, then threw up his hands in defeat. “All right, talk.”

 

He wasn't sure if he imagined it, but he thought that a look of relief crossed Koenma's face. “It's fairly simple, on the surface. I recently received reports of problems in Sunnydale. I'm not sure what kind—they were conveniently vague—but I do know that there's a chance it has something to do with the Hellmouth…and that it's something dark.”

 

“Th-the what?”

 

“You heard me correctly. The Hellmouth. Sunnydale opens directly into one of the hell dimensions, and unlike Makai it isn't blocked from the human world.”

 

“So…why haven't you sent us before?”

 

“Because of the Slayer.”

 

Another pause. “Okay, you've lost me again.”

 

Koenma was very pleased by this pronouncement, but he hid it well. “The Slayer. She hunts and destroys demons—mostly the lesser races like vampire and other human-demon hybrids—but as far as I can tell she's not averse to taking down an apocalypse once in a while…”

 

“She?”

 

“Yes. The Slayer is always one woman. The texts say specifically: `In every generation, there is a Chosen One. One girl in all the world. She alone will stand against the vampires, demons, and forces of darkness.' A new Slayer is called the moment the old Slayer dies, and she goes immediately into training. This year's model is called Buffy Summers, and she lives in Sunnydale.”

 

“And you didn't tell us any of this before because?”

 

“I didn't think it mattered. As long as the Slayer stayed away from my Reikai Tentei, I didn't think I needed to bring it up. But that was before. Now is the time I'm concerned about.”

 

“So let me get this straight. You want me to leave home and everyone here and go across the world to meet a girl who hunts my kind and may actually have the power to take me down.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Well, as long as I know what's going on.”

 

Koenma tried to smile, but it seemed very forced. “But, Kurama, understand that I won't—can't—force you to go. I'd be forever grateful because you're the only one of the team that can do this the way I want it done, but you can refuse and I'll find another way and I won't hold it against you. That's a promise.”

 

Kurama looked at him for a long time, his face absolutely unreadable. Koenma fidgeted and was just about to break the uncomfortable silence when Kurama asked, “What would I have to do?”

 

Koenma's face broke into a smile. “That's the easy part—I want you to do what you already do.”

 

“…Which is?”

 

“I want you to be a college student.”

 

“Koenma, have you gone mad?”

 

“I'm serious, Kurama. I want you to enroll at U.C. Sunnydale,” Koenma said seriously.

 

“And what, exactly, would be the point of that?”

 

“Well, the Slayer's best friend attends classes there. Her name is Willow Rosenberg and she, like you, is very smart. She's also a witch—yes, a full, very powerful, spell-casting witch. I want you to make friends with her.”

 

“Koenma! You can't be serious! I won't use her to get to the Slayer! I don't use people. Not anymore. You know that.”

 

“Who said anything about using her? No, I meant exactly what I said—I want you to be her friend and her friends' friend and Buffy Summers' friend. If they become your friends, they will trust you. When they trust you, you can tell them who you are. Then you can tell them why you are in California. There's an excellent chance that the Slayer has no idea what's going on and if she doesn't find out she can't fight it.”

 

“So why can't we fight it on our own? All of us? Without the Slayer?”

 

It was Koenma's turn to give an impassive stare, and after a moment Kurama said quietly, “Wow. That bad, huh?”

 

“…I don't know. And that makes me think…yes.”

 

End Flashback

 

And so the very next day, Kurama had said goodbye to his friends, packed up, and taken a portal straight to California. Koenma's people had him enrolled and got him a dorm and he started classes as soon as he was relatively settled in. His friends had promised to call, and they had, but only a couple of times, not because they didn't care, but because it only made them miss each other more.

 

And meanwhile, he'd been here for a month as of last week and no sign of anyone with Willow Rosenberg's description…

 

Kurama's musing was abruptly interrupted in a rather unpleasant way when, upon turning a corner, he crashed into another person going the opposite way. His bag of books dropped off his shoulder and fell open, sending a couple of books to lie open on the ground and pencils and pens to scatter everywhere.

 

“Oh, for the love of—this is just classic—” Kurama swore in Japanese as he crouched to pick up one of the books, wondering if the entire world was just against him all of a sudden. The person he'd crashed into strode past as if he wasn't there, and Kurama bit down on his lip to school himself into not killing anyone.

 

“Hey, you could at least mutter an apology!”

 

Kurama very nearly lost it. As it was, it became impossible not to mutter a string of words that would make a sailor blush, should that sailor speak Japanese.

 

“I'm sorry, what?” the speaker asked, and Kurama flushed when he realized that it was the other guy she had been yelling at, not him. Now her voice was friendly and sweet, and she knelt to hand him the two pens she'd picked up and so put herself into his line of vision.

 

She was a very pretty girl, with straight dark blond hair that fell past her shoulders and soft open eyes, and right now she was smiling innocently at him as she helped gather up the rest of his spilled things. He found himself smiling back, his mood lifting slightly.

 

“Arigato,” he said, standing up and slinging his bag over his shoulder.

 

She looked politely puzzled, and Kurama realized then that he'd spoken in Japanese.

 

“Oh…um, I meant thank you. For helping me.”

 

She smiled again. “Oh. No problem. I'm sorry about that, though. Some people aren't very polite in college.” She held out her hand. “I'm Tara McClay.”

 

Kurama took the offered hand and shook it. “K—Suuichi. Suuichi Minamono.”

 

“Suuichi Minamono. I like that. It's Japanese, right?”

 

“Yes. I'm from Tokyo,” Kurama explained, and he didn't notice that he and the girl had started walking with no real path or purpose.

 

“Wow. That's…far,” Tara said, looking rather awed at the idea. “How did you end up in Sunnydale?”

 

“Oh…I'm an exchange student. I transferred here last month.”

 

She didn't even ask why he had chosen tiny Sunnydale, and for that Kurama was grateful—he had known this girl for all of two minutes and already he hated to lie to her. Instead, she asked, “So how are you liking California?”

 

Oh, how he loved a question he could answer truthfully! “It's not bad. Warmer than home, and quieter, but…I miss my friends. And my mother.”

 

“I'm afraid I can't really sympathize. Before I moved here I didn't have any friends, and family…” She shrugged.

 

“I'm sorry…” Kurama said awkwardly, hating the idea of this girl being alone.

 

“Oh, no, don't be. Like I said, things changed when I came here. I have plenty of people to love me now. In fact, if you want to come along with me, I'll introduce you to one of them right now.”

 

XXX

 

“Willow!”

 

“There you are—I was getting worried. Thought a beastie'd gotten y—who is that man and why is he staring at me?”

 

Kurama realized, after a moment, that she was looking at him, and he forced himself to put his trademark expressionless mask up in order to not look as surprised as he felt.

 

Tara McClay had led him straight to Willow Rosenberg.

 

It was almost the last thing he'd expected.

 

Right before Tara McClay being gay and in love with Willow Rosenberg.

 

But the latter became quite obvious when Willow gave Tara a kiss full on the lips—before she noticed Kurama, of course.

 

So it was really no wonder that he stared. But he recovered himself quickly enough, and held out his hand. “I'm sorry. I'm Suuichi Minamono.”

 

Tara looked completely oblivious to the idea that her being gay made have made Kurama uncomfortable—it didn't, but it could have—but Willow seemed mildly surprised that he didn't even comment on it. However, she followed his lead and simply said, “Willow Rosenberg. That's me.”

 

She was definitely something more than human—that Kurama knew right away. Her energy print was human, but there was something else, too—a distinct feeling of power that wasn't human, or demon, or spirit. Tara had it, too, but it wasn't as potent—Willow was, by far, the more powerful of the two. The most worrying thing was that this power was utterly neutral—it could be used for good, or unimaginable evil.

 

But she wasn't evil. Kurama was sure of that. And a tool is only as bad as its user…

 

“Suuichi's an exchange student all the way from Tokyo,” Tara chimed in excitedly.

 

“Really? That's…far. I've never even left little old Sunnydale,” Willow told Kurama, sounding a little envious, but not in a bad way. “Is it nice in Tokyo?”

 

Kurama felt himself begin to smile. He had thought that this assignment would be difficult, but in fact Willow and Tara seemed to be so open to friendship that they were practically doing it for him. Maybe this assignment wouldn't totally suck after all…

 

“Well, let me make a deal with you ladies. Come with me and I'll buy you lunch and tell you all about it.”

 

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AN: Okay, I know this was a little shorter than the last chapter, but I didn't want to add crap just for the sake of lengthening it. Next chapter we go back to Japan! But until then, review, please! That little purple box makes the medicine go down and the world go `round!

 

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“Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.” -Anais Nin