Yu Yu Hakusho Fan Fiction ❯ Barriers ❯ Broken Barriers ( Chapter 15 )

A/N: Unfortunately, I do not own YuYu Hakusho. Bloody tragedy if you ask me.

 

It was when Shiki felt the stirring of the stone still trapped in her body that she knew they were getting close. She glanced sideways at Izumi for confirmation, and saw all that she needed to see in the way the woman's eyes focused nowhere but forward. Every movement had grown sharp, deliberate, as though the water apparition was fighting every better instinct to get closer to Kurogami. Or perhaps she's fighting not to go faster… The thought troubled her, and she realized she had no idea how Izumi would react to being in the proximity of her brother and her master again.

 

“Izumi?” She tried to infuse her concern in the question.

 

The older woman flicked her eyes briefly in Shiki's direction. Deciding that was as close as she'd get to an invitation to continue, Shiki pressed on.

 

“Will you be able to… resist Kurogami?”

 

Izumi exhaled sharply through her nose, jaw firmly set. “I don't know.”

 

Not exactly reassuring, Shiki thought. Still, it must be worse for her, not knowing if she'll have control of herself or not.

 

“Such is the burden of the stringed puppet,” Youko contributed sardonically.

 

Shiki frowned. That was uncalled-for at best. But instead of getting irritated, Izumi smiled. It wasn't a happy smile, but a dry quirk of the lips. “Indeed. Rest assured, though, my strings are not as taut as they once were.”

 

Youko seemed to derive some meaning from this statement and nodded slowly, though Shiki was at a loss. “Is that so?” He ventured. “I was under the impression that you had merely acquired new ones.”

 

“So I have.”

 

“Do be careful. A puppet pulled in too many directions cannot move at all.”

 

“I don't suppose you have a blade handy?”

 

“No, but there is one who does.”

 

At this point, Shiki had just about had it. The sad part was, this sort of thing happened to her all the time. Adults had their own cryptic ways of speaking, sometimes without any words at all, and saw fit to use them in front of her. It was absolutely maddening, especially because she was right there when they chose to do it, and so their intent was obviously to confound anyone else. Her usual pleasant expression must have slipped, because Izumi raised an eyebrow and indicated Shiki with her eyes, earning a smirk from Youko. More satisfyingly, however, they dropped the obscure metaphors and fell silent.

 

***

 

Youko was absolutely certain he should not be feeling this way. Specifically, he was sure he should not find a stormy-faced Shiki in any way endearing, of all things.

 

Get out of my head, Shuichi! He snarled. But there was no response, though he vaguely sensed amusement at his expense somewhere in their shared consciousness. Too shared, lately.

 

He attempted to direct himself towards that annoyingly smug and amused part. Of course, such a thing was extremely difficult. It had been easier when the mental barriers between himself and Shuichi had been definite. These days, they were fuzzy, when they even existed at all. Still, he was absolutely certain that he, Youko, was not amused by this turn of events.

 

After a degree of searching (and a little too much introspection for his own tastes), he was able to locate what was most likely Shuichi. He made to suppress it, and then…

***

 

Kurama took a moment to process the distinct lack of claws on his hands before looking over at the two next to him. Izumi had merely arched an eyebrow, but Shiki's reaction was something else entirely. The girl had seemingly forgotten how to run, and nearly tripped over her own feet before righting herself and taking a couple of extra-long strides to catch up again. At first, she had seemed shocked by the suddenness of the change- she'd never actually seen it happen before, after all- but after a moment her eyes seemed to light up, and a smile edged its way onto her face.

 

“Welcome back,” she said, maintaining her usual calm demeanor, but forgetting to make her expression at all neutral.

 

Kurama felt the corners of his mouth twitch upwards involuntarily. “It feels as though I never left.”

 

Her smile faltered, replaced by a look of bemusement, but he did not explain any further. It was as though some sense of levity had overcome him, but it had vanished with her smile, leaving him to much darker meditations. He and Youko were most certainly losing whatever separated them from each other, and the stone Shiki carried was surely the reason. No other explanation made sense; the timing was perfect, and nothing else of note had really changed.

 

The implications were something of a mixed bag. On the one hand, he and Youko weren't exactly separate beings to begin with, and he certainly didn't miss their internal dialogue that much. It was possible that, once completed, this process would allow him to change forms at will. Surely, Youko had managed it, albeit accidentally, by seeking out his gentler side. Kurama was almost certain that a few more uses of the stone would complete what the first had started, and that he would need only look to the darker side of his own personality to access his demonic abilities and form. Kurama knew that he was only half a person as he was; surely, what was happening was giving him back those parts of himself that his demon half had taken upon making residence in his spirit.

 

And yet, of this he could not be sure. Perhaps the incompleteness he felt as a human was only because he knew of what it was like to be something else. There were no other cases like his, no previous knowledge he could draw upon to understand with any certainty what was going on. And if he turned out to be wrong, well… he didn't mind Youko much, but that was far from wanting to be him.

 

A quandary, indeed. He surreptitiously looked at Shiki out of the corner of his eye. Perhaps it would be best to avoid her until his decision was made. She was, after all, the one mostly responsible for his predicament, even if she had no idea. Yes, he'd best keep his distance, especially since his logical capacities seemed to dull somewhat when he was in her company. This, too, bothered him. Try as he might, he could come up with no explanation for this. It was not the stone, else Hiei or Kuwabara would have felt it as well, and they were both perfectly fine as far as he could tell. But if not that, then what?

 

***

 

Shiki was confused. While this had happened on occasion before, it was not a sensation she enjoyed. What was worse, it seemed that nobody was going to be un-confusing her anytime soon. She had repeatedly tried to make eye contact with Kurama, to no avail. Afterward, she had raised an eyebrow at Izumi, who had just shrugged indifferently.

 

Clearly, she'd have to find another method. Normally, she would have dismissed the need to know what was happening as a busybody sort of thing to feel and pushed it out of her mind. This time, though, she decided she had to know. Kurama seemed distracted, and that wasn't going to be of any help when they fought Kurogami. Plus… no, she'd leave it at that. Give him a few hours, perhaps. But if he was still this troubled by tomorrow morning, she'd have to talk to him.

 

Searching for something to distract herself, she spied Botan floating on her oar a little ways ahead. Stretching her short legs for all they were worth, she managed to catch up. A little small talk could go a long way, even if she wasn't all that good at it. All she needed to do was ask a question or nod here and there, and the ever-lively Botan would take care of the rest.

 

***

 

Yusuke leaned back against the wall of his cell and sighed theatrically. This was getting boring. He wanted to get out of this room, and he wanted to do it now.

 

Not that he was put up badly, mind. As far as prisons go, the room wasn't all that terrible. There was an actual futon in the corner, and the covers seemed to have been washed fairly recently. It wasn't terribly cold, and the roof was quite leak-free. Though relatively comfortable, the room was windowless, and the door was sturdier than he would have thought possible. A well-aimed spirit gun blast had ricocheted dangerously off of the smooth, metallic surface. He wasn't sure if the walls would do the same, but after that, he decided it probably wasn't worth trying.

 

His head made contact with the wall behind him, and he groaned as black spots danced across his vision. He was pretty sure he was concussed; lifting his hand up to the area, he found that the abrasion was till not fully healed, and the contact with his fingers produced a sharp stinging. He grimaced. Okay, not a good idea.

 

A sharp click reached his ears. Sitting up as straight as he could, he fixed his eyes on the door. Yusuke was surprised to see the one called Kaito enter. Usually, it was Hiroto who brought him his food. They obviously wouldn't trust weaker servants with the task of feeding him, but surely this was a little bit beneath the right-hand guy?

 

Yusuke was snapped out of his uncharacteristically long train of thought when Kaito tossed him a roll of bandages. His reflexes took over, and he caught it easily.

 

“What's this for?” He asked. His voice was a bit raspier than he would have liked. Didn't quite convey the devil-may-care attitude he was going for, but, hey, that's what happens when you haven't had anything to drink in a while.

 

“Your head wound.” Kaito rolled his eyes. “Unless, of course, you'd rather it get infected?” He followed this statement by tossing a bottle of some nasty-looking fluid that would disinfect it. He left the bowl of rice and cup of tea he was carrying on a small table near the entranceway and turned to leave.

 

“Hey,” Yusuke called after him.

 

Kaito stopped, but did not turn around.

 

Yusuke took this as an invitation to continue. “Just what the Hell are you people after?” The question was genuine. Yusuke wasn't one for explanations, but he was one for habit. And usually, the villains had monologued at him by this point in the game.

 

Kaito turned his head to look over his shoulder at Yusuke. “How old are you?” He asked suddenly.

 

Yusuke was taken aback enough by the question to answer it without smart-mouthing. “Seventeen.”

 

Kaito snorted, but continued. “Would you say the world has changed in the time you've been a part of it?”

 

Yusuke shrugged. “Sure, why?”

 

“Have you ever thought that the changes weren't always for the better?”

 

The spirit detective went to scratch his head, then thought better of it. “Well, I guess so…” What the Hell is this guy driving at?

 

“Imagine having the power to reverse those changes, to put the world back the way it should be. Now imagine being alive for a thousand years, and having the power to change that. Perhaps then you will begin to understand what I seek.” Kaito strode out of the room, pulling the door shut behind him, and Yusuke heard the lock click back into place. What the-? I don't get it, but whatever.

 

***

 

Shiki woke to the sensation of the morning sun on her face. She sat up, flinching slightly. Sleeping on nothing but forest floor with no fire to warm her exertion-cramped muscles was beginning to take its toll. Wincing as she stood, she stretched slowly as she made her way over to a nearby stream.

 

Weirdly enough, she was always able to sense when water was nearby. She supposed it was only logical, given her heritage, but her affinity with the stuff ended there. She liked a bath as much as the next person, and she was certainly not in danger of drowning should she choose to swim, but… She resolved to ask Izumi about it, when this was all over. It would be nice to have someone teach her the things her grandmother might have otherwise.

 

Checking the area immediately around her, she quickly shrugged off her clothes and stepped into the water. It was about waist-deep, but the current wasn't too bad. She scrubbed herself as best she could. The water wasn't exactly warm, but the sun had taken the chill out of it. She contemplated washing her clothes, but decided against it. They'd take far too long to dry, and she certainly didn't want to be wearing wet clothes when she fought.

 

Sighing, she sank down into the water to immerse her hair in it. Wet hair, she could deal with. In the absence of shampoo or a comb, she ran her fingers through it in an attempt to work the knots out. Briefly, she considered taking a page out of Izumi's book and dispensing with most of the length, only to smile sheepishly when she contemplated her parents' reactions. No, she was certain that this experience had changed her, and she knew that she would never be able to bend completely to the will of someone else again, but she was not entirely defiant and rebellious, either. She'd probably miss it the second it was cut, anyway.

 

Having mostly succeeded in eliminating the tangles, she squeezed the excess water out of her locks and climbed ashore, slipping quickly back into her garments. She knew nobody would intentionally interrupt her privacy, but she was self-conscious in the extreme and though the fewer chances taken, the better.

 

Now, to find out what's irritating Kurama.

 

***

 

Kurama exhaled slowly. It had been quite some time since he'd felt the need to meditate, but here he was, legs folded, eyes closed, trying to empty his mind of troubling thoughts. And failing miserably. Thinking, it seemed, was not an easily-broken habit.

 

Nonetheless, he was not so distracted that he did not notice her enter the area. She was quiet, yes, but not stealthy, and it was not difficult to pick up the sound of footsteps in what was otherwise total silence. He frowned inwardly. Were even her footsteps so tentative? Or was he just nervous for some reason?

 

“Shiki,” he acknowledged without opening his eyes. Truthfully, he had been expecting this. He'd been ignoring the poor girl for the better part of a day and a half; she had to wonder if something was wrong. And yes, he admitted, something was most definitely wrong. He was most certainly not going to tell her that, however. It would do no good to burden her now of all times.

 

And thus the meditation. If they were truly to confront Kurogami today, he needed to be able to focus properly. But of course she chose this moment to sit at his side, and he found himself rapidly losing what little concentration he had gained.

 

“Kurama?” Her voice was pitched low, doubtless she was having some difficulty deciding what to say.

 

“Yes?” He replied, still not moving or opening his eyes. Why am I so afraid to look at her?

 

“Is something wrong? You've barely spoken to anyone for a while now. I mean, I know you're not exactly talkative, but Hiei talked more than you last night at dinner and…” She clamped her mouth shut, perhaps realizing that she was rambling .

 

He took a deep breath, studiously keeping his expression neutral. “You need not be concerned. Everything is fine.”

 

“Then why won't you look at me?” Her voice was barely a whisper, weighted down by some raw feeling that he had not heard from her before.

 

Almost involuntarily, he opened his eyes, and found that he had lost his train of thought entirely. She had dropped her skilful façade, and was looking at him with undisguised worry. Her face was tinged slightly pink, as though she had scrubbed it, and her hair was damp and unbound, a few tendrils clung to her neck.

 

He closed his eyes, then opened them again. No, he had most definitely not imagined that. She was still there, still looking at him like that. He opened his mouth to reassure her, but found that something entirely different was escaping his tongue.

 

“Youko is gone. I cannot hear him anymore. I suspect that this is because we are becoming the same person.” Hm. Could have managed that with a bit more tact, Kurama.

 

A slow realization dawned in Shiki's eyes, and her next question was not a surprise. “How long?”

 

“Since the first time I transformed on this mission.”

 

“This is my fault, isn't it? It's because I used the stone on you.” Moisture gathered at the corners of her eyes, and she blinked fiercely.

 

Kurama cast about for something to say, but as was becoming far too frequent lately, he found himself at a loss. Then he remembered something she had said, and a slow smile crossed his face.

 

“Do not blame yourself. It is just as you said, remember? There never really was any Youko or Shuichi, just Kurama. Maybe everything is as it was supposed to be all along.” He meant the words as comfort, but found himself believing them as he spoke them aloud. Perhaps… He stood, and offered his hand so she could do the same.

 

Shiki stared at the proffered arm for a moment before grasping it in her own and standing. “Do you really mean that?” she asked.

 

His smile grew despite himself. “Yes. So please, shed no more tears.” On an impulse, he reached a hand to her face and wiped away the wet streaks beneath her eyes.

 

Before logic had the chance to process the implications of what he had just done, she had collapsed against his chest, and all possibility of reason had escaped him. So he stood there like a fool while she wept against him. He knew that this was no longer about his troubles, but what they would face next. Like the rest of them, she had remained steadfast and strong for the past few days, not complaining even when the pace was hard and her limbs weary. But unlike the rest of them, he was certain, she blamed herself for all that was happening, and felt that it was her responsibility to end it. Which was at lest partially true. The stone had started this, and the stone would have to end it. But it wasn't her fault.

 

He stroked her head absentmindedly. Even half-wet, her hair was quite soft. He shook his head slightly, and tried to speak soothing words, knowing that what he said probably mattered very little. Then, just as quickly as she had leaned into him, she backed up. Her face was flushed, more so than her earlier ablutions could explain.

 

“I'm sorry,” she said, expression wide-eyed and slightly fearful.

 

Kurama just shook his head, indicating (hopefully in a way that she would understand) that she hadn't done anything wrong.

 

She seemed to take a moment to compose herself, and, faster than he could register, her moment of weakness was gone, and her face was once again impassive, though he noted with some inner amusement that the blush had not entirely left her cheeks.

 

“Well,” she began, tone businesslike, but not unkind. “I think we'd best prepare. Izumi wants to leave soon, I'll bet.” She stopped, and allowed a small smile to crack her mask a bit. “Thank you,” she added, much more softly. Then she turned from him and headed towards the campsite, gathering her hair into the customary ponytail as she went.

 

Kurama allowed himself a small sigh. It was odd. He could have sworn he felt an absence in the spot she had occupied just moments ago, and the feeling left him… wistful, somehow. He shook his head and watched her go, surprised to find a small smile playing on his lips. He followed shortly afterwards. He would think more about this later. For now, there was a battle that needed to be fought.

*******

 

Kiku's Corner~

 

Salutations, lovelies!

 

I'm back with a new chapter, and it's probably like the third-to-last. (Although I might just make the finale an extra-long saga instead). Either way, we are approaching the end. I'm excited, how about you guys? Why not drop a review in celebration? Eh? Eh? *nudge, nudge*

 

Anyway, my pathetic-ness aside, hope you enjoyed the chapter, especially if your name is Torin Jingles. Because that's who this goes to, since you were my sole reviewer last chapter. Go you!

 

Love,

~Kiku~