Yu Yu Hakusho Fan Fiction / Fan Fiction ❯ In Omnia Paratus ❯ Confusion ( Chapter 3 )

- - - - - - - - - -

 

Tokyo, Japan

 

His head should have hurt—badly. Dean, with all of his experience in physical injury, knew this. He also knew that since it didn't, he was either in shock, highly medicated, or dead.

 

All three ideas were pretty equally alarming.

 

But the next moment, a far more important thought drowned the rest out. Sam.

 

Dean forced himself to breathe carefully, and then he opened his eyes and sat up. He didn't experience any of the dizziness or nausea the movement should have brought, and usually he would have welcomed this, but the abnormality of it and the worry over Sam left no room for other thoughts.

 

Even so, as he looked around, many realizations crashed over him at once.

 

One: it was night, so he had either slept for only a few hours, or a day, or several, had already passed. He hoped desperately that it was the former, but there was really no way to know right now, so he set the question aside.

 

Two: he was not in their motel room, or any motel room. He wasn't on a bed, either—he was sitting on a thickly padded mat on a clean wooden floor. The room was completely furnished with a brown wooden dresser, a dark red cushioned armchair, and a mirror hung on the wall.

 

Three: The door to the room was closed, as if some considerate person had wanted to see that he wasn't disturbed. But it wasn't comforting—rather, it just left Dean feeling trapped and closed in, like a caged animal.

 

Four: his bag, and Sam's, were set carefully against the wall, unopened, as if that same person wanted to make him as comfortable as possible, and somehow knew that he was only comfortable if he was armed.

 

And five: Sam was asleep on a mat across the room. Dean felt such relief that for a moment the lightheadedness he had expected did come. Once it was past, he pushed aside the blankets that had been thrown over him and went over, feeling another pang of surprise when his legs didn't shake or grow weak.

 

He knelt down next to Sam and looked him over. The first thing that jumped out at him was that his brother was unmarked. All of the bruises had faded from his face, and the cut on his arm, which should have been visible under the edge of Sam's white T-shirt, was completely gone. When Dean reached down and felt for a pulse, he found it beating strongly. But Sam's skin was hot to the touch—he had a fever. And as Dean watched him, his brow furrowed, and he shifted uneasily in his sleep.

 

It was a nightmare, Dean was sure of it, and he reached out and gently shook Sam, trying to rouse him. Sam twitched and slept on, but he relaxed at the touch and seemed peaceful enough. Dean brushed a hand quickly through his hair—a gesture he would never repeat when Sam was awake—and then stood up. He was determined to find out what was going on now that he knew Sam was okay.

 

He didn't notice his brother's muscles tense again as his hand left the other man's shoulder.

 

XXX

 

Sam was walking, but he had no idea where he was or why he was there. What he did know was that he was alone, and that he shouldn't be. His surroundings were so shrouded in fog that he couldn't make out even basic shapes. He would have expected to be cold, but he wasn't. In fact, he felt nothing at all—not cold or warmth or pain or tiredness—nothing.

 

But he really wished he knew where he was…

 

XXX

 

Dean may have had a lot to worry about at the moment, but he was still a hunter, with a hunter's instincts, which was what made him first go to their bags and take out a short, sturdy metal axe, well-sharpened and much-used. Holding it with a sure touch, he crept across the room and touched the doorknob lightly. He fully expected it to be locked, and jumped back in surprise when it opened easily.

 

The room opened into a hallway, dimly lit by a light at the end. To the left was just a wall, so Dean headed to the right, his steps soundless without his boots, the axe ready at all times. Ahead of him, the hall turned, and he couldn't see beyond that point. For all he knew, as nice as this place was, something was waiting around the corner to ambush him—maybe the bastard that had attacked him…

 

“You don't have to sneak around, you know.”

 

Dean cursed audibly and whirled around, raising the axe in a smooth movement. A young woman was standing behind him, watching him with a small smile. Her face was gentle and sweet, completely untouched by any makeup or unnatural product. Her hair was a pale greenish-blue, but it didn't seem to be dyed. Well, that's a little weird…

 

“How the hell did you get behind me?”

 

She looked at him for a moment, and her eyes reminded him of something…but he couldn't remember what. Then she lifted her hand and pointed wordlessly to a cracked door next to her, which she'd apparently just come out of, and the moment passed.

 

“What were you doing?” Dean asked suspiciously.

 

“I was about to go check on you and the other one. How is he?” she asked, and he couldn't help but notice how clear and soft her voice was.

 

Dean cautiously lowered his ace. He wasn't sure why, but he wanted to trust this girl. “What's your name?”

 

“I am Yukina.” She didn't ask who he was.

 

“Pretty name,” Dean said, giving her his most winning smile, more out of habit than anything, although there was no denying that she was rather good-looking.

 

Yukina shrugged slightly. “I suppose.” She turned her back on him as if the axe he held didn't exist, and he found himself following her as she went toward the room in which Sam still slept. She closed the door after he stepped in, and walked over to crouch next to Sam. Dean scrutinized her closely as she checked Sam's pulse, pushed back his hair to feel his forehead, and checked his breathing. After a long moment, she sighed and stood up.

 

“What's the matter with him?” Dean asked, half of him not wanting to hear the answer and the other half needing to know.

 

She seemed troubled. “I'm not sure. All of his injuries are completely healed and yet he doesn't wake, and he runs a fever though he shouldn't.”

 

“Will he be okay?”

 

“I'm certain that he will. I just…there's nothing even wrong with him anymore! Or there shouldn't be. But it's as if something's going on in his head that's keeping him this way…”

 

XXX

 

Sam wasn't sure how long he'd been here, but he was getting seriously bored. What was the point of this? Was he even awake? He didn't feel awake…but if he was dreaming how was he thinking so clearly? Even in his vision-dreams, his mind had always been a muddle of confusion. He had never been able to reason this way in any of his other dreams.

 

But Dean wasn't with him, so he must have been in a place where his brother couldn't follow.

 

So, the way he saw it, there were only two possibilities: he was dreaming after all, or his injuries had been far more serious than he'd thought and he was dead.

 

Well, this bites…

 

XXX

 

“Well, this bites,” Dean murmured, trying to keep his voice casual to hide his fear.

 

“I think you shouldn't worry,” Yukina said. “He will wake. I'm sure of it. But we must let him rest now.”

 

“I'm not leaving him,” Dean replied instantly, moving closer to Sam's cot.

 

She smiled, and Dean got the feeling that she was smothering a laugh. “You did once already.”

 

Dean flushed, and his voice was hard as he replied, “Only to figure out what's going on and whether or not someone was waiting to kill us.”

 

Yukina held up her hand, the amusement fading. “My apologies. Please, don't be angry. I meant no insult.”

 

Dean looked at her for a long time. “Who are you?” he asked suddenly, all of the questions he had suddenly beginning to pour out. “Who were the guys who ambushed us? Are they here, too? How long have we been here? And where's here, anyway? What is going on?”

 

“Please!” she interrupted. “Please, I promise that your questions will be answered, but you need to eat and your friend will be fine if you leave him alone. Come with me and…well, some things will be explained, at any rate.”

 

Dean sighed heavily. “Fine, whatever. But if anything happens—”

 

She giggled, and regardless of the way he was feeling at the moment Dean wanted to smile at the sound. “You are very much like my brother. But it will be fine.”

 

Dean opened his mouth, but before he could say anything more Yukina took him by the arm and led him firmly toward the door with a surprisingly strong grip. Dean allowed himself to be guided, not really sure what else to do.

 

Yukina took him down the hallway and around the corner, and Dean saw that the room connected to it was a kitchen, albeit a very plain one. Everything was white except the table, which was a very light brown wood, and it was all scrubbed meticulously clean.

 

But Dean didn't notice any of that. He was too focused on the people sitting around the table.

 

There were three of them, all sitting silently as if waiting for something. On the left side was the black-haired man who had attacked Dean. He was very young, probably a few years younger than Sam—Dean hadn't had the time to notice that before—but his face was hard and care-worn and his eyes were too mature and Dean knew that he had seen more of life by now than he'd ever cared to.

 

Sitting on the other side of the table was a tall, broad-shouldered, carrot-topped man who looked about the age of the black-haired guy, maybe a few months older. His expression was a bit happier than his friends, but he still seemed far older than he looked.

 

The third person was at the head of the table. She was a very old, very tiny woman. She sat cross-legged in her chair, complacently drinking from a mug as if she had not a care in the world. Her face was wrinkled and lined with more than age, and she seemed extremely frail. More than anyone else, she captured Dean's attention—what was a little old lady doing amid the people responsible for him and Sam being stuck here?

 

These three people seemed to be the only ones in the room at first, but then Dean noticed a small figure standing against the wall, arms crossed, utterly still. It was the thing that had attacked them the first time, but now Dean could look at it properly. It looked completely human now, except for the brilliant red of its eyes. It had spiky black hair with an odd white starburst, and the third eye was covered with a white headband. The bandage on its arm was covered by its long tunic-like cape, as was its sword. It was almost as skinny as the old woman, but unmistakably strong. It looked to be only in its twenties or so but must have been many times that. And its face was as expressionless as it had been when they'd met, as if its existence hinged on showing the world absolutely nothing of what it felt. Dean felt his anger rising, but he quelled it with extreme force of will—there were too many people around.

 

The most puzzling thing, though, was that the other three were human. Dean was sure of it. They were human and they were sitting calmly with a demon in their midst, as if it were perfectly normal. And the thing wasn't trying to hurt any of them.

 

Why?

 

All of this was filed away in Dean's mind in the ten seconds it took for the three at the table to look over at the doorway.

 

The black-haired man stood first, and came toward Dean with his hand outstretched. “I'm Yusuke Urameshi,” he said in accented English, and Dean found himself shaking hands with the person who had dragged him to this place. Yusuke seemed to read his thoughts, and said, “Like I told you before, I'm really sorry for the way we brought you here. I didn't want to hurt you, but…Hiei seemed to think it was urgent, and that's so rare that I sort of panicked. Is your head okay?”

 

For a moment, Dean was taken aback and just stared at him. Then he asked, “Who's Hiei?” without answering Yusuke's question.

 

Yusuke seemed to hesitate, then said, “Let me introduce you and we'll talk. This is Kuwabara—” The orange-haired man stepped forward to shake, too. “—And she's Genkai.” That was the old lady, and when she pushed back her chair and stood Dean was surprised at the surety of her steps. Then she took his hand and her grip was strong, very much belying her size. “And that's Hiei. He won't come over here, though, he's too grumpy.”

 

Okay, this was just getting weirder and weirder. Like Sam, these people spoke as if the thing were human. But that couldn't be right—it was just another evil thing.

 

Wasn't it?

 

Yusuke saw the confusion on his face, and he sighed. “Listen, why don't you sit down? All this must seem kinda weird to you…it's weird to us, too…do you want coffee?”

 

“No.” Because regardless of his confusion, Dean Winchester would not take something an enemy offered.

 

Yusuke sighed. “You're still mad.”

 

“Can you blame him?” the man named Kuwabara asked, sounding irritated. “You knocked him over the head without telling him why, and Hiei attacked his friend.”

 

“Brother,” Dean corrected automatically.

 

“Oh. I'm sorry. Brother. Just kinda makes things worse, doesn't it?” The man turned back to Yusuke, glowering. “You,” he said, “are an idiot.” Then he turned to the demon—Dean just couldn't think of it as anything but “the demon”—and said, “And you're even worse—you're an idiot and a shrimp.” He added something in another language—Japanese, Dean guessed—that made the demon scowl and snap back.

 

The old lady suddenly shouted something in a gravelly voice, and Kuwabara fell silent. She said something else, then stalked past Dean without looking at him—her head didn't even reach his chest—and went to the counter. She picked up a cup and poured what Dean recognized as coffee into it, then came over and held it out to Dean.

 

“I said I don't—”

 

“Sit down and drink it.” She glared at him, looking so formidable that Dean just did as she told him and took a seat at the table. Sam would have laughed at him, but these people seemed to regard following the old lady's orders as the most obvious thing to do.

 

But even she wasn't going to stop him from asking his questions. “What is this place, anyway?”

 

“Genkai's temple,” Kuwabara replied, sitting down next to him with another glare thrown the demon's way. “Yusuke and Hiei brought you here because it's sort of our meeting place, and it's also the only one with empty rooms.”

 

“But why did they have to bring us anywhere in the first place?” Dean spoke to Kuwabara this time, because out of all of them he seemed to be the most direct and honest. “And why did…Hiei…attack my brother? And why didn't it—um—he—kill us?”

 

“They brought you here because there are some things we need to sort out. And Hiei attacked you guys because he's a moron—I think. He won't actually tell us anything, so I'm forced to state the obvious.” Kuwabara didn't smile because he wasn't joking. “He may not be sorry for hurting your brother, but we are.” He did smile then, and Dean smiled back, a little.

 

“So…how long have we been here?”

 

For some reason, Kuwabara seemed reluctant to answer this question, although Dean thought it to be the simplest. “Um…about five or six hours, give or take.”

 

“Oh…well, that's not so…wait…what?”

 

“Yeah, `cause that's the subtlety we were going for, Kuwabara,” Yusuke said, rolling his eyes and sitting across from Dean. Dean stared at him and was surprised not to feel any anger—in fact, the only one in this room he really hated right now was the demon. And he couldn't even dwell on that, really—he was too confused by Kuwabara's revelation.

 

“That's not possible,” he said now, still speaking directly to Kuwabara.

 

“I know it seems weird, but there's nothing impossible about it.”

 

“But…Sam's injuries…and my head…” Dean looked around at all of them, wordlessly demanding an explanation.

 

“Well, we did agree to tell him,” Yusuke said, and Dean's eyes flicked to him. Yusuke sighed, glanced at each of the others momentarily, then focused on Dean. “Listen, don't freak when I tell you this, and don't call me a loony, just listen.” Dean didn't even blink, just gave Yusuke a look that clearly said, I'm waiting. “Okay, fine. You know demons, and spirits, and monsters, and all those things you heard about in stories as a kid? Well…I don't like to be the one to tell you this, but…they actually do exist.”

 

Dean let the silence go on for a minute before he quirked an eyebrow and said, “Well, yeah. What were you going to tell me next—that the sky is blue?”

 

The shock on every face would have been comical at any other time—maybe it even was a little now. Even the demon—Hiei—couldn't conceal its—his—really gotta get used to that, Dean—surprise, though within a moment it had disappeared under the stoic mask.

 

“Y-you know?” Kuwabara spluttered at last.

 

“Are you seriously asking me that? There's a demon standing by your window!”

 

“Wh—how—I thought you said they were human!” Yusuke said, suddenly turning on the demon, who looked at him and didn't say a word.

 

“We are human. Not normal, but…human. Aren't you?”

 

Yusuke gave a laugh that held little humor and more than a little bitterness. “Me? God only knows. But Kuwa and Genkai here are. We've all just got a few…extra attributes…that normal people don't have. It's kind of a long story.”

 

“One you're going to tell me, right after you explain why I'm here and how me and Sam are suddenly fine. Or…why I am, anyway.”

 

“Really? What makes you so sure?” Yusuke asked, sounding as if he really did want to know.

 

Dean normally would have just answered with a cocky phrase or random threat, but things were…strange…here, and the situation needed to be handled carefully if there was going to be any hope of him and Sam getting out of here, so for once Dean paused to think about his answer.

 

“Because Sam dragged me across the world for a reason, and I'm pretty sure that you guys are it. And if that's true, then it seems to me that it's important for us to be honest with each other if we're going to figure this thing out.”

 

There was another moment of silence, and then Yusuke said, “Okay, where do you want to start?”

 

Dean took a deep breath. “How about with…my name is Dean. Dean Winchester.”

 

- - - - - - - - - -

 

AN: Okay, so this chapter was originally supposed to be much longer, but the first part took up more time than I thought, and that seemed like a good place to stop, so I basically just cut the chapter in half. If I hadn't the wait for this would have been forever. Anyways, with that explained, please review, people!

 

- - - - - - - - - -

 

“The chief lesson I have learned in a long life is that the only way to make a man trustworthy is to trust him, and the surest way to make him untrustworthy is to distrust him and to show your mistrust.” -Henry L. Stimson