Yu Yu Hakusho Fan Fiction ❯ Elemental Education ❯ Chapter 4 ( Chapter 4 )

Kurama led Bekka to the bathroom, moving her to stand with her back to him in the center of the room. She looked over her shoulder at him curiously. “I want to check that last cut. You didn't dodge as well as I expected and it went deeper than it should have.” His eyes were curiously dark as he waited for her to respond.

 

She looked down her back, unable to see where the wound was. He eyes went up to meet his again. “How bad is it?” she asked, feeling that the question was some how inadequate.

 

His eyes never left hers as he placed his right hand just below her right shoulder blade and his left hand near her spine just below her waist. “That long,” he answered.

 

Bekka was almost overwhelmed by his touch. She closed her eyes, trying to focus, to block, to think, anything that would stop her head from swirling, his touch from burning her. Biting her lip, she shook her head. She heard him sigh as the quality of his touch changed, cooled. She opened her eyes to see that his had lightened to their normal color. “Is it bad?” she asked, continuing their verbal conversation.

 

He shrugged, his hands still on her back, “It's hard to tell, your shirt is in the way.”

 

Rolling her eyes at him, and relieved that his touch remained cool and almost playful, she muttered “fine” as her hands went to her waist to pull up the offending garment. She hissed in pain as the combined motion and movement of the fabric aggravated the cut.

 

Kurama placed is hands on her arms. “Let me do that.” Surprised at the amount of pain, Beakka nodded, bringing her arms up away from her body. He slid his hands under the shirt, running them up her back and arms as he pushed the fabric up and off her. The touch almost caused her to shiver, something not missed by the attentive kitsune. “Cold?” he asked, though he knew the real reason she had tensed.

 

“No,” she answered, voice breathy, forced to be light. “A little ticklish, maybe?”

 

Kurama laughed at this blatant lie. Holding her waist, he knelt behind her so he could better examine the lash he'd given her. I was deepest near her waist, where the tip of the whip had begun to curl around, but for the most part, it just broke the skin. What made it painful was that it crossed her spine. He drew his tongue up along the wound, causing the girl to gasp and shudder in his hands. His lips touched her spine just below her neck when he heard her gasp, “Don't, please.” Pulling back, he looked at her. She was trembling, holding herself stiff, her hands clenched at her sides, head bowed.

 

“Bekka,” he said gently, releasing his hold on her waist, “look at me.” She turned around to face him, a mixture of fear and shame on her face. She refused to meet his eyes so he placed a finger under her chin, tipping it until her eyes met his. “I won't do anything you don't want, understand?” She nodded against his finger. “But,” he continued with a small grin, “I will keep trying, okay?” She returned half his grin before her face fell again.

 

Bekka stepped back slightly, “I'm sorry,” she said, avoiding looking at him. “I need some time to think, to work things out. I have to get my head sorted out. Please…” her voice trailed off, unsure how to phrase her request. She needed time alone, without his thoughts in her mind.

 

Kurama looked at her, thinking. He had an idea what she wanted but couldn't bring herself to ask. “Will you be okay here if I go out for a while?”

 

Bekka's face showed a mixture of relief and embarrassment at his offer. “I-I-I'll be fine,” she stammered. “Thank you.”

 

Kurama stood, cupping her cheek in his hand, bending down to reduce the height difference between them, “There's food in the kitchen. Don't forget to eat while you sort out your head.” He placed a light kiss on her forehead before turning and leaving. Pausing at the door, he looked back over his shoulder at the girl in the center of the room, “Tomorrow, we begin your training, Bekka.” She bowed as he left the room.

 

Bekka stayed in place until she could no longer hear the murmur of Kurama's thoughts, about at the point where he left the cave. The silence in her mind was almost deafening as she picked up her ruined shirt. Holding it to her chest, she walked into the bedroom. Stopping abruptly, she thought how ridiculous her attempt at modesty was. Shaking her head, she began digging through her clothes when she came across two boxes. Opening them, she found a board with an eight by eight square grid in one and thirty two carved pieces in the other. “'This will help,' she thought, setting the boxes on the bed. Pulling out an ivory top and skirt that had silver accent fabrics, Bekka returned to the bath.

 

When Kurama returned several hours later, he was surprised to see Bekka was still awake in the living area contemplating the odd items from her bag. She looked at him with tired, calm eyes. “I have reached a decision,” she announced without preamble. He flicked an ear in curiosity. “I have decided, for my own sanity, I cannot hold onto the past. I can remember it, but I have to move on, to continue to adapt and grow. Remaining fixated on what I've lost only causes harm. Oma told me the only law of magic is to do no harm, even to myself. She was right, you are right.” Abruptly she stopped talking and began clearing away the pieces.

 

Kurama watched her, unsure how to respond or even what to think of this child. She didn't seem to need a response, however, as she continued placing the pieces in their box. “What are those?” he asked, indicating the artifacts.

 

Bekka glanced at him questioningly. “It's a chess set.” She felt a flash of something she couldn't quite place. “What?” she asked. He looked at her blankly, ear twitching, wondering exactly what her question was. Exasperated, and too tired to hide it well, Bekka explained sharply, “When I said `chess' you flashed something. It was too fast for me to really identify. Why did you react?”

 

Kurama eyed the girl, considering. She waited, watching him. Finally, reaching his decision, “Loki has been giving me information in exchange for training you. He said you were involved in something like a chess game.” He stopped when he noticed her smirking. “What?” he asked.

 

Bekka laughed bitterly. “Loki has a couple of titles that are just extremely fitting. He is called the god of mischief and games.” Shaking her head, “It fits that he'd give me a chess game and tell you about it. Do you want me to teach you?”

 

Ignoring the question, Kurama asked, “Why were you playing?”

 

Sighing, Bekka shrugged, “I needed to think. The things going around in my head polarized into two sides. I assigned each side a color. Every move I made, I listed an argument in support of the side the piece represented. The side that won is the side that I would go with as being right.” She pulled a wry face, “Actually, I didn't finish the game. I realized that the arguments of one side were too weak to stand.” Rising from the chair, stretching, she smiled at him. “Good night, Kurama-sensei,” she quipped as she walked past him.

 

Perplexed, he watched her, wondering if her oddities were part of being human or female. He heard her laughing from the room. Frowning, he walked into the room, finding her already lying on the bed. She smiled at him, “I'm just odd. It has nothing to do with being female or human. And, just so you know, you're easier to read when you're upset or confused.” Yawning, she closed her eyes and muttered, “Good night.”

 

Shaking his head, he climbed into bed behind her, pulling her close as he settled down. As he felt her relax into sleep, he allowed himself to think. `Just when I think I'm beginning to understand her, she goes and does something strange. She claims to be odd. Is this what Loki meant by having traits that set her apart? She is a puzzle, that's for sure. She fights well, though, though her speed could use improvement, and her endurance. She does seem passionate, though. She'll need to learn control over that temper of hers. Odd, using that chess game of her to sort out her head. Does that mean I won't have to deal with strange mood swings anymore? That'll be a relief.' Kurama's thoughts eventually quieted and he, too, slept.

 

When Bekka woke, she was surprised where she found herself. Instead of being held almost like a doll, she was lying on top of a very amused demon. She began to push herself off when he wrapped his arms around her shoulders. Lifting her face to ask him to let her go, she found herself unable to speak, his lips pressed against hers. Running out of options and air, she pinched him. This caused the kitsune to laugh, breaking their kiss. “Why'd you do that?” he asked playfully. “You started this.”

 

Embarrassed, Bekka was unsure how to respond. She pushed away again, this time he allowed her to go. She tried to get her bearings as she realized the situation was worse than she thought, as her skirt had hiked itself up around her hips. “I started this?”

 

“Yes, you did.” He was still laughing at her as it was obvious she couldn't think straight. Kurama did enjoy the mixture of confusion and embarrassment on her face. He drew himself up sitting, bending over to look into her eyes. “Admit it, you liked it.” Her blush deepened as she dropped her eyes to the bed. Deciding the girl had been teased enough for now, Kurama got off the bed and left the room, chuckling and looking pleased with himself.

 

Since he had not indicated that she was to follow directly, Bekka took a few moments to compose herself, brushing her hair as she did so. `Gods and angels,' she thought, `what am I doing in my sleep? “Admit it, you liked it”?....of all the arrogant, self-assured…Damn it all, what did I do in my sleep?' Not feeling that she could delay any longer, she put down the brush with a deep sigh.

 

“You will teach me this,” Kurama said as she entered the living area, in a voice somewhere between a command and a request.

 

Bekka looked at the chess set he'd indicated where he'd also scattered pieces around the board, recreating her final set up from the night before. “Sure,” she replied. “It doesn't take long to learn the basics of the game.” She was glad he had given her something to think about.

 

He looked at her, noting that she was more composed with approval, and asked, “What do you mean, `the basics'?”

 

Bekka smiled without humor, “I can teach you how the board is set to begin the game, all the allowed moves and attacks, and how to end the game in one short teaching game. It takes years to master the game, though.”

 

“Have you mastered it?”

 

Shaking her head, Bekka replied, “No, I'm about at an intermediate level. I knew a guy who was a master before I started traveling. He said I had potential, but he moved away and I didn't know anyone else who played as well or better than I did. It's hard to improve skills without a challenge.” She sat and began sorting the pieces, explaining as she did. “White goes first. Normally, one pawn of each color is palmed by one of the players and the other player selects their color that way, but in a teaching game, the teacher is always white. These,” she indicated the smallest pieces, “are pawns…” Bekka continued setting out the pieces, explaining their allowed moves and attacks. She then began the game, using a simple straight forward strategy. She was surprised, however, when Kurama seemed to use techniques that a beginner shouldn't have known. Changing tactics, she tried to throw him. He faltered, his king being checked a couple of times, but rallied to catch her by surprise in a checkmate.

 

Bekka stared at the board in amazement. “Are you sure you've never played before?” she asked, her voice baffled and amazed.

 

“No, never,” he replied. He didn't think the game had been that difficult. It was a strategy game, and he had noticed that she'd changed tactics part way through, for which he was glad, or the game would have been a lot shorter.

 

“Absolutely amazing,” she breathed, getting excited about the prospect of a worthy opponent. “Wanna play another game before we get to training, please?”

 

Kurama was baffled by this enigmatic child across the table from him. “You're happy about being beaten?”

 

“Yes,” Bekka responded happily. “The last time I was challenged at a game of chess was the last game I played with that guy I told you about. I've only played teaching games, when I've had anyone to play with, or by myself since then.” She clapped her hands together in excess of excitement, “I've never seen anyone learn so quickly.”

 

Kurama allowed himself to feel flattered at the girl's delight and appreciation of his skills. “After training, we can play again.”

 

Bekka's face faulted slightly, but she managed to continue smiling. As much as she wanted to play, she also wanted to learn. “Okay,” she said, then, winking, added, “I'll take that as a promise.”

 

“Do you ever make sense?” Kurama wondered out loud.

 

“Eventually,” she replied.

 

Shaking his head, Kurama rose from the table, flicking his tail for her to follow him. They returned to the dojo room. Kurama walked to the center of the room, withdrawing a red candle from somewhere in his clothing as he sat on the floor. Bekka knelt on the floor in front of him, curious as to what came next.

 

“Before we leave here, you will be able to light this candle,” Kurama said. Bekka nodded. “First, do you remember what you did to summon fire before?”

 

Bekka thought back. She could barely remember what happened, but she did remember being very angry. She didn't remember doing anything other than yelling at Loki. She didn't remember thinking anything. It just happened. “No,” she replied. “I remember being angry at Loki.”

 

“How did you stop the fire, then?” he asked, trying to get around having to irritate her, trying to find a more reliable controlled way of summoning fire.

 

“It just seemed the right thing, that if I damped down on how I felt, the fire would stop.” Bekka wasn't entirely sure why it seemed the right thing, though.

 

“Well, at least you have some instincts for this,” he sighed. It'd been a long time since he'd trained, and though he'd wracked his brain, he couldn't remember much. He decided to try one of the few things he did remember before he started trying to anger her. “Okay, I want you to think about fire, think about the flame. Imagine it filling your body.” He watched as she closed her eyes, concentrating. Her breathing slowed and he began to see a flicker of red aura around her. It was then he realized that she hadn't had one before. Curious, he watched. The aura wasn't particularly strong or focused. “Focus on the way the fire looks, how it feels. Make it real in your mind.” Her aura began to strengthen, but it wasn't the same type of aura he saw around other demons or even the occasional human that found their way to the Makai as slaves. “Bring the fire to the tip of your finger.” He watched as the aura flared around her, but it didn't move to her finger. “Concentrate, Bekka.” Her aura dimmed and flared rapidly as her face began to show strain. He tried to get her to tighten the focus again, “Hold out your hand, palm up. Put the fire in your hand.” The aura began to coalesce in her hand, briefly, before it flared out of control and there were several small fires around the dojo. “Put them out!” Kurama cried out, busy with the couple of flames that had landed on him.

 

Bekka's eyes flew open, horrified as she saw what she'd done. Quickly, she began trying to damp down on the fire, which succeeded in putting out some of the fires. She tried to pat out the flames within her reach and ended up scorching her fingers. Yelping, she stuck them in her mouth.

 

“What are you doing?” Kurama shot at her when he saw her trying to use her hands and burning them.

 

“I'm sorry,” she said, around her fingers, tears in her eyes from the pain.

 

“Enough!” Something in Kurama snapped. Getting to his hands and knees, he advanced on the trembling girl fiercely. “I have had enough of your apologizing. I have had enough of this whole stupidity. I never asked for any of this. I never wanted anyone living with me. I never wanted to train anyone to do anything. I was quite happy with my life before you arrived. I was quite content with the way things were going for me.”

 

Bekka retreated from the angry demon before her, truly afraid of him for the first time. Kurama continued, almost oblivious to the girl's fear, his need to vent his feelings overriding his normally rational behavior. “I have done everything I can think of to make you comfortable. I have indulged your ridiculous little whims. I put up with your insane mood swings.” Bekka hit the wall behind her and could not retreat anymore. Kurama was inches from her face, demanding, “What more do you want from me?”

 

Trembling, Bekka shook her head, “Nothing, nothing, I'll leave. I'm sorry, I'll leave.”

 

Kurama's fist made contact with the wall next to Bekka. “You cannot leave, idiot. You wouldn't survive. Actually, yes, you would. You're not permitted to die.” Pulling back his fist, he sat back on his fists, “Go, leave.”

 

Stunned, Bekka scrambled away, getting to her feet and ran from the room. She went to the living area to grab her chess board and then went to the bed room to grab her clothing. She was tying the bag when Kurama entered the room. She had been so distracted that she didn't hear him. “What are you doing?” he asked as she shouldered her bag, picking up her violin at the same time.

 

“Leaving. You told me to. I am allowed to take my things, aren't I?” Bekka was unsure what to do, what had set him off.

 

Kurama walked over to her, taking the bag from her and dropping it where it had previously sat, “You are not leaving.” Bekka looked confused and there was hurt lurking in her eyes. “The Makai is not kind to humans. If you leave, you'll be taken as a slave if you're not just tortured for fun.” He rested his hand on her cheek. “It's not your fault you're here. I hate being trapped.”

 

Bekka felt some of her courage returning, although feebly. Quietly, she said, “The only difference between a trap and a game is that a game has to have at least one way to escape. Loki plays games. There is a way out of this stupidity. He always gives clues. I do know how you feel though. I feel the same way. That's why I lash out at Loki, as a way of venting my frustrations with being stuck in this game.”

 

“How will you get out of the game?” he asked.

 

She shrugged, “I don't know. I haven't played enough to figure out the endgame.”

 

Taking the violin from her hand and setting on the bed gently, he took her hand, “Let's go play our parts, then, so you can figure out your endgame.”

 

Bekka followed, remembering something he had yelled at her, “I'm not permitted to die?” she asked.

 

Kurama stopped, “Didn't you know?”

 

“No, I didn't,” she replied, confused. “I've been pretty badly hurt before, but I just thought I wasn't hurt bad enough to die. But if I can't die, then I should have died a couple of times already. Would figure he'd make me suffer stuff like that.”

 

“Like what?” he was unsure if he really wanted to know, but he sensed talking helped calm her.

 

“Well, I was stoned once for being a witch. That hurt a lot.” Seeing his confusion, she explained, “Stoning is when the witch, me, has her hands and feet tied together, is tossed over a cliff and has a bunch of rocks dropped on her from the top of the cliff. I think nearly every bone in my body was broken, then. People don't survive being stoned, but I did. One of my patients came by and took me home. I had been teaching her some herbology, so she knew how to make pain killers and disinfectants. I think she took care of me for almost six months before I could manage to leave her house at all. I taught her everything I knew about herbology while I was recovering, so she said it was a fair trade.”

 

“Wouldn't they try stoning her, too?” he asked, amazed at what humans would do to each other, both harmful and helpful.

 

“No, they took my living as a `sign from God' that I wasn't a witch and permitted me and my students to practice.”

 

“Students?”

 

“She had a house mate. I taught them both.” She was hedging, he could tell, but decided to let it go.

 

“Let's get to your teaching.”

 

She smiled at him, balance restored in her mind and, she could feel, in his.

 

They returned to the dojo, to the same positions they had originally occupied. “Let's try with you concentrating on creating fire in your hand instead your whole body this time,” Kurama suggested. Bekka began chewing on her lip, raising her right hand palm up and thinking of fire in her hand. Kurama noticed the aura again flaring, concentrating in her hand seconds before a flicker of flame appeared. “Make it stronger, keep it there,” he encouraged. She focused, watching the small tongue of flame grow into a small ball of flames. She smiled slightly, her lower lip still caught in her teeth. “Now, move it to the candle.” He watched as she concentrated, trying to figure out how to move the flame from her hand to the candle. She reached out with her left hand to grab the candle when Kurama said, “Not that way. Make the flame move.” She thought hard, Kurama could see the effect on her aura. Slowly, it reached out toward the wick and the flame followed hesitantly, finally lighting the candle. Kurama smiled at the girl, “Very good.” He blew out the candle, “Do it again.” Wrinkling her nose at him, she concentrated again. The aura and fire moved a little more confidently. Kurama again blew out the candle, over and over, they repeated the series, lighting the candle, blowing it out, until Bekka had enough. Kurama tried to blow out the candle and was a little surprised when it would not be extinguished. He looked more closely at the flame and could see a red aura around it. He looked at Bekka. She had released the fire from her hand and was looking at him.

 

“I don't want to relight it. It stays lit,” she declared.

 

He gave a small laugh, “Good, you figured out the next step.” She blinked at him, surprised. He took advantage of her slip in concentration to blow out the candle again. He was stunned when it flared up right afterwards. “You're a quick study,” he admitted.

 

She smiled, “Yes, I've been told that before. Can we play chess now?”

 

He laughed in earnest at her eagerness to play the game. “Fine, but only if you cook dinner.”

 

It was then Bekka realized she was very hungry. They had been playing with the candle for hours. She could suddenly feel the fatigue wash over her. “How about you cook dinner, I'll make breakfast and play you in the morning?”

 

“Feeling tired?” he asked, amused.

 

“Yes, very.” She yawned, and then looked at him seriously, “Next time you need to blow off steam, could you just attack me physically. I deal with that a lot better than being yelled at. I don't care if you take out your anger on me, but I'd rather fight than be ordered to leave, please.”

 

He gazed at her, considering her words. Nodding, he stood and pulled her up and into a hug, “I will try to remember that,” he told her, looking down into her eyes.

 

She returned his hug, “I promise not to have anymore really insane mood swings. I can't promise not to have mood swings, but they won't be so insane. And you don't have to indulge my ridiculous whims. You don't have to listen to me play or sing and you don't have to play chess if you don't want to.”

 

“I like hearing you play and sing,” he assured her, liking the feel of her arms around his waist. “Chess is interesting. I don't mind playing.”

 

She tightened her arms around him briefly before letting him go, “Thank you.”