Yu Yu Hakusho Fan Fiction ❯ Old Demons Die Hard ❯ Hiei's Adventures in Central Park ( Chapter 1 )

"Old Demons Die Hard"

~ A YuYu Hakusho Fic ~

By

Batwings

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Disclaimer: All things YuYu Hakusho belong to Funimation, Inc.

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Chapter I:

Hiei's Adventures in Central Park

Hiei stood on the gnarled old tree limb, his eyes fixed on the ground. He would be coming along soon, just be patient.

"Tired of being patient…" he muttered. "Been patient these last few years, and look where it's gotten me…"

He pressed his back against the tree trunk and slowly slid down, until he sat, straddling the knobby branch. He clicked his heels together, leaning back and resting his head back on his hands. If Kurama was going to take this long, he might as well have a little nap.

"Fox boy can just wake me up when he gets here…"

As he closed his eyes, he felt more relaxed than he had in months. Maybe it was being outside, amidst nature, he didn't know. Maybe it was just being in this tropical new place. Tokyo had started to become dull to him… He needed more adventure. Even if Kurama was happy there, just strolling the city all day, going to cafes, he wanted more than just the quiet, simple life.

He sighed. Maybe that was why the relationship hadn't worked… he thought to himself. No matter if opposites attract, too many differences will always cause problems in a relationship.

He was too tired to think of it now. He settled down once more, relaxing into the thick summer air, warming and covering him like a blanket.

The two drug dealers standing on the corner just a few feet away were quiet, but were making just enough noise to dance on Hiei's nerves. "Will you two shut up over there!" he snapped.

"Come on dude, let's go somewhere else," one of the men said, and they tromped off.

"Hmmph…" Hiei rolled over on his side. Damn trees… so uncomfortable. He could feel tiny bits of tree bark sliding down his neck, crumbling over his skin. "Fuck it all to hell." He jumped down, hitting the ground on all fours. "Damn… I need more practice." He stood, dusting himself off. He looked around at the quiet, secluded area of the park in which he stood, and for the first time in many months actually felt that sense of protectedness that comes so rarely for great heroes. He wasn't alone - the drug dealers and the prostitutes were bad to roam this area at this time of night. But the dark kept him company . . . the dark kept him safe. The dark was his friend, his companion. The only companion who really understands me, he thought to himself.

The warm glow coming from the nearby streetlamp illuminated his face, making his appearance look even more ghastly and harrowing than would usually appear to the average passer-by. Hiei turned to look at it, squinting a bit at the sharpness of the light which flared against his darkness-accustomed eyes. A figure stood under the lamp. Luxuriant bottle-blonde curls spilled out over a worn and dirty fake fur leopard print jacket, whose frayed hem led the eye to the red satin miniskirt, fishnet stockings, and thigh-high black spiked-heels. The figure leaned back against the iron post, a ghostly trail of cigarette smoke flowing from its fire engine red lips. It turned to face Hiei, batting its eyes, caked over with ugly blue eyeshadow and cheap mascara. "Hi there, cutie."

"Oh God…" groaned Hiei, rolling his eyes.

"Need some company tonight, hot stuff?" The prostitute walked in his direction, swaying her hips to the soundless music that is the very epitome of New York City. He studied her face closely. Twenty-something . . . Twenty-nine. Disease ridden . . . Doesn't have AIDS, but a severe advanced case of gonorrhea and perhaps hepatitis. Her pimp will beat her if she doesn't bring him anything home tonight, which is why she's after me.

"You're cute, and you look lonely. I could solve that problem for you." She smiled and winked at him.

"You can't solve my problem, I'm afraid," said Hiei. "No one can."

"Oh, I'm not so sure about that," she purred, running her hand over his shoulder, her brittle nails painted a hideous shade of mauve scratching at his garments. "I've been known to solve many problems of many different kinds."

"Well, not this one," snapped Hiei. "And if you'll please excuse me . . ."

The prostitute pouted. "Oh, come on, sweetie. . . come take a ride on the Vanessa train. I like you, so I won't charge much for the ticket." She giggled.

Hiei stared blankly at her. "Don't try making clever remarks. They just make you sound stupid." He could tell she was hurt - poor dumb high school dropout. But nonetheless, she had to bring Bobby home some cash tonight, or else. So she persisted.

"Come on . . . I'll make it worth your while, sugar. I'll bet you've never had a woman like me before!"

"And what would you say if I told you that I care not for the company of women?"

Her expression turned sour. But instantly, she lit up again, and continued. "Ahhh . . . I'll bet I can change your mind. I'm that good."

"Look, Miss, I don't want to hurt you. Please, just leave me alone." Hiei turned and walked hurriedly away. But Vanessa continued quickly after him, her heels clicking on the pavement.

"You're really hurting my feelings, love. Come on, be a sport!"

"I'm not in a sportish mood, thank you."

"I'll change that!"

"I SWEAR TO GOD, IF YOU SAY THAT ONE MORE GODDAMNED TIME, I'M GONNA WHAP YOUR FUCKING HEAD OFF!"

Vanessa stood there, shaken. She trembled. Hiei could see the tears welling up in her eyes. "I just. . . I just wanted to be friendly."

"Well, you're just annoying the hell out of me. And I don't have any money to give you anyway, if I did, do you think I would be sleeping in a fucking tree in the middle of Central Park?" Half-lie, sort of. He did have money, and he could have stayed in a hotel, but he had agreed to meet Kurama in the park. Oh, he was going to kill Kurama. Where in hell was he?

"Oh. . ." She choked back a sob. "Well then - I'm sorry!" she shouted. "I just thought you would be nice enough to help a girl out! My mistake!"

"Please, spare me," spat Hiei. "I'm leaving now, and don't follow me." He turned once more and headed for the opposite end of the park. He could hear the girl crying behind him. Women - such pathetic specimens.

"VANESSA!" A voice shouted. "Vanessa!"

"Bobby?" Smack.

"Bitch, I tol' you to get some god damn money tonight! I been watchin' you wif dat sho't li'l fucka." Smack. "Stupid bitch, too damn dumb to reccanize a fag when she see one."

"Bobby, I was only trying. . ."

"Shut up, bitch!" Smack. "I'm takin' yo ass home, and I'monna show you what happen when yous don't be bringin' Bobby Daddy back da g's he bes deservin'."

"HEY!" shouted Hiei from across the park. "You there!"

"Whatchu want sho't fucka?" said Bobby, grabbing hold of Vanessa's arm and pulling her back sharply. "You ain' gettin' dis bitch, she in trouble."

"She isn't a child, you fool," growled Hiei.

"What binniss is it of yo's?"

"This binniss!" mocked Hiei. The darkness still cloaked him, so the prostitute and her pimp could not see. But when they heard the hissing sound of metal, they knew what was to occur.

"What da fuck!?" shouted Bobby.

One seconds. Two seconds. Three seconds. His head had already hit the pavement on the half-second mark. The dark, rich, cocaine-infested blood spilled out over the cold concrete like ink on parchment. His decapitated body slumped over and fell alongside the gutter. Hiei kicked the head to the body in which it crowned a mere five seconds ago. It hit the corpse with a muffled thump.

There was a long silent pause. Then whimpering.

"Oh my God," said Vanessa. She was shaking, crying, her knees trembling, about to give way. "Oh my God. . . Mister, what are we gonna do? What are gonna do!? We're gonna fucking go to jail!"

"No, we won't," said Hiei calmly.

"Yeah, we will!" she shrieked, breaking into a sob. "Oh my God. . . I'm so scared!"

"Look, Vanessa. . ." It was the first time he had spoken her name. "Go. Go home to Michigan. Your mother misses you, and so do your little brother and sister. Go."

"What the. . . ?" She looked at him in disbelieve. "How the fuck did you know that?"

"I know," said Hiei, wiping his sword carelessly on his black robes. "Ask me no questions, and I tell you no lies."

"But. . ."

"GO, Vanessa. Go. Just go, and don't look back." He flung a hundred-dollar bill at her. "Consider this my apology for lying to you, and being so harsh earlier. Now go."

Vanessa squatted down and snatched up the money. She knew better than to ask questions of this man. "Thank you." Hiei nodded solemnly.

"Just one thing. . ." she said. "What is your name?"

Hiei smirked. "Call me Hiei. Hiei Yurameshi."

Chinese, she thought. Or one of those little Korean guys. She couldn't tell a difference. "Hiei." She tried out the name in her mouth. And she liked the way it felt. "Thank you, Hiei Yurameshi." And she turned and headed for the bus depot.

Hiei knew that in a few hours, the bus would drop her off in suburban Michigan, and that at approximately 5:30 AM, she would be hugging her mother on the front porch of the house in which she grew up in, and that her little brother and sister would run out in their pajamas to hug her. He also knew that her mother would be making pancakes for breakfast in honor of her return. Pancakes with lots of butter and maple syrup. . .

But he didn't want to think about these things now. He didn't want to think of how he had saved the girl's life, or how if he hadn't have intervened, her pimp would have taken her home to his filthy, roach-infested apartment and raped her until she finally bled to death. He didn't even want to think of the pancakes her mother would be making, which sounded really good right about now. All he wanted to think of was Yusuke, and how many more hours until he would look upon his husband's face again.

"Where the hell is Kurama?"

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