Yu Yu Hakusho Fan Fiction ❯ Betrayal of Swords ❯ Chapter 3 ( Chapter 3 )

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor claim to own, the manga or anime known as Yu Yu Hakusho.

Betrayal of Swords

Chapter 3: Curses and Consequences

 

“Something's wrong with this,” Mukuro muttered as she watched the SDF and Hikorei's minions gather in the center of the pre-arranged meeting area. Beside her, Yomi nodded his agreement, a frown twisting his thin lips.

“I do not like the feel of their auras,” Shura whispered from his father's other side, his eyes on Hikorei and the figure that lounged in the shadows behind him. “That one with this Hikorei feels far too much like I remember Kurama feeling.”

Both Demon Lords turned to the younger demon, startled by his assessment, before turning their attention to the stranger as well. Though they could make out little of his form, they could easily feel the power he did not even bother to disguise, a power that, as Shura had said, felt similar to that of Yomi's old boss and advisor, Youko Kurama. However, unlike Youko, this figure's power was tainted with some sort of coldness that crept into the soul and festered, an open wound that refused to be healed.

“A golden kitsune,” a frigid, spite-filled voice stated from behind the trio of S-Class youkai. The three turned to see a tall, slender demoness with a river of silver hair and tarnished gold eyes behind them, her delicate fox ears twitching in annoyance, her silver tail swinging back and forth. She stepped closer to the ledge that separated them from the arena, the faint flush of red on her cheeks and across her nose contrasting sharply with her pale, silver-tinted skin. “A traitor to his own kind.”

“And what,” Yomi inquired, “is a silver kitsune doing outside of the Kitsune Valley?”

The woman turned her spiteful glare to the goat demon and Youkai King before glaring back at the kitsune that remained veiled. “That is none of your business.”

Mukuro scowled. “I would think it was -“

Yomi held up a hand to silence the psychic as Hikorei stepped in front of his companions, the kitsune leaving the deep shadows at last to join him, molten silver eyes reflecting the light that filled the arena. “It is beginning.”

******

There was something about the tension, the heightened fear that filled the air, that ignited his blood, feeding his aura and his eagerness for what was to come. Beside him, Hikorei was growing restless, his carefully disguised bloodlust rising eagerly, readying to let the fire demon hybrid drive his greedy claws into King Enma's feeble attempt at defiance. His companion's anticipation was addicting and invigoration, he decided, leaning forward just slightly as he waited for the perfect moment.

Movement near the current Makai King drew his attention and an eager smirk traced his lips. So, even the great and mighty Inarius Clan, the highest clan of Silver Kitsune, had been drawn out, if the presence of his dear childhood friend Yoko was any indication. The feeling of her spiteful gaze, those glowing gold eyes, was enough to rouse him from his throne, now satisfied that all the necessary players were here.

He emerged from the shadows, a tan-skinned kitsune youkai with long, strictly tamed golden hair that fairly gleamed in the strange illumination of the arena. His garb was simple a sturdy tunic made of the finest silk and billowing pants, both the color of burnished gold, his feet bare as he stepped across the stone floor, uncaring of the sharp edges that surely littered the area. He took the time to ensure that he could study them all, his molten silver eyes falling on each living being there, no matter how young, no matter how old, no matter the race.

His gaze settled on the young demi-god who stood of from the rest of his kind, his brown eyes serious, expression betraying his certainty in what would occur. A smirk hovered on his lips for a moment as their gazes looked before Kuroshi Hachibi turned his attention to the gathering as a whole once more, a cold smile twisting his oddly pretty face.

“Welcome, all,” he stated, his voice deep and oddly melodious. “I am Kuroshi, your host for this endeavor, and I appreciate your participation in this...restoration of what should have been. As you know, the rules are quite simple: those who fight for you need only defeat four of my warriors to prevent what I wish and to restore the powers of your precious, and worthless, Gods.”

The outraged cries that echoed in his ears were like fine wine, intoxicating and consuming. Oddly, there was one voice that he had been so eager to here, one that he had so hoped would deny him. Turning slightly, his silver eyes fell upon the one that had granted him his first taste of divine power and it very nearly startled him to see the faint, mocking smile that twisted the Kitsune Goddess's lips.

Interesting.

Kuroshi merely brushed it off, knowing that, soon enough, what his former Mistress believed would mean nothing with his victory over them all. He would be certain to slit her throat first. He held up a hand and all noise ceased, dying in throats and in the midst of utterance. “One last comment before we begin. Only those names that were presented as the ones who would fight will be given the chance, so, for your sakes, I hope your faith in the abilities of your Gods' forces is stronger than I know it to be.”

With that, he returned to his throne, a pleased smile twisting his lips as the true meaning of his words sank into their minds. Only one had thought to suspect his requirements, to question the rules, and that one was the only being not subject to the death that was sure to follow.

Provided, of course, Koenma continued to prove more prudent than his oaf of a father.

******

Mukuro growled softly as she watched the demons and SDF members gathering in the arena below, her cyber-optic eye and natural eyes both gleaming dangerously. “This is a load of bullshit.”

Yomi sighed and leaned against the wall behind the psychic, unseeing eyes never leaving the confident form of the golden kitsune who presided over recent events. “Why would he do this?”

Hokushin and Mukuro turned to stare at the goat, confused. The monk frowned, his hairless face twisted into a too serious image. “What the hell are you talking about, Lord Yomi?”

“This fox,” Yomi explained, waving towards Kuroshi. “Youko never did anything without an ulterior motive and this demon has offered nothing beyond a deep hatred for the Gods. Why is that? What is it that he is after?”

“His Brother,” a new, resonating voice declared. The three demons turned to see the mortal form of the Rice God Inari, followed by three kitsune, each of a different breed. The Goddess smiled at them, a cold calculating smile that was all too hauntingly familiar. “Kuroshi seeks the power of his Brother so that he might become a God himself.”

“But why?” Mukuro demanded, glaring at the golden demon once more.

“Because Kuroshi is only an eight-tail,” one of the fox demons explained, his white hair fairly crackling with the fury in his storm cloud eyes. “Kuroshi seeks the power of the Ninth.”

******

Freezing wind tore at the ragged cloak that covered his body, the sub-arctic temperatures hardly phasing the small demon. With every step, snow melted and froze, creating a clear line of footprints for an instant before the howling wind buried them beneath a foot of fresh white powder. The golden medallion hanging from his neck hummed softly, the faintest hint of his own aura radiating from the ancient artifact.

Beneath the bandages wrapped around both arms, the dragons stirred, opening glowing eyes and growling in warning as he drew ever closer to the ruined remains of the ancient temple where their curse was put into effect. On his right arm, the white dragon hissed, its blue eyes visible through the gap in the bindings. There is another here.

“I can smell that,” the little demon growled as he entered the frozen ruins that had become his sanctuary over the last few decades. He paused in the middle of the crumbling pillars, eyes narrowed as he searched for the intruder, his third eye glowing with its wicked intent. “Show yourself!”

There was a groan of pain as a red-haired kitsune, one just barely out of her teens by the looks of her, stumbled from among the ruined pillars, blood painting the left side of her pale face and her left arm hanging limp and useless, the deep slashes in the flesh revealing the white bone beneath in places. “Are…are you...the one…who lives here?”

“Who wants to know?” he growled, blood colored eyes never leaving the injured demon's face for a moment. The girl struggled to stay standing as she met his gaze, wheezing through the pain of her wounds.

“I…am Taichiko,” she gasped. “My…my master is…was the Fourth…Disciple…of Inari…I have…a message…for you…from him…”

“I'm retired, little fox,” the short demon growled. “Fucking Enma made sure of that. Take your message to someone who cares.”

“It's…for the….the Ninth,” she pleaded, stumbling towards the raven haired demon. “Kuroshi…the golden…will kill…us all…for his power…”

Taichiko collapsed into the snow in front of the startled demon, breathing shallow and irregular. Hiei stared at her fallen form for a minute, memories of the name she had uttered dancing in his mind.

“Ow,” the familiar voice of the former Spirit Detective, Yusuke Urameshi, declared. Hiei groaned softly and sat up, clutching at his forehead and peering at the icy landscape with blurred vision. “What the fuck happened?”

“If you would shut up for five fucking minutes, we could figure that out,” Hiei growled. Beside him, Kurama groaned and sat up as well rubbing at his throbbing temples. Then, Hiei heard the last thing he had ever expected to come out of Kurama's mouth.

“Fuck!” The kitsune rose to his feet and began running his hands through his hair, a desperate look in his eyes. “My seeds are gone!”

“That would be because they have become the medium of your curse,” a laughing, musical voice declared. The three demons turned sharply, ruby, emerald, and golden eyes narrowed dangerously at the golden haired demon crouching before them, a wicked smile on his lips. “Hello, servants of a traitor.”

“What are talking about?” Yusuke growled. The fox laughed and waved a hand dismissively.

“It's simple, really,” he declared. “Enma set you up, though you did succeed in getting what I was after before me. He paid me to steal the aspect of each of you that will bind you forever. From this day forward, you will never set foot outside of Makai, nor will you allow any of your former friends or acquaintances to lay eyes on any of you again, lest those closest to you die. That is the Curse of Enma.”

“Who are you to tell us any of this?” Hiei growled. “I should rip your head off!”

“No, Hiei!” Kurama yelled, throwing his arm across Hiei's chest. “Don't!”

“Yes, Hiei,” the fox cackled. “Listen to the little vessel. As for who I am: I am Hachibi no Kuroshi, the High Priest of Inari and you could not hope to defeat me in your current state.”

A swirl of golden fire surrounded the cackling fox demon, caring him away in a surge of flame, leaving the three demons behind in the snow.

…hopefully, things are starting to come together and make a little more sense…