Shenjin growled, ducking beneath a blow that very likely would have taken his head off should it have connected, simultaneously turning into the motion of the evasion, whirling and bringing up the Sword clenched tightly in his hands in one long arc of retaliation. Hiei saw it; the air flittered in variant shades of black and grey as he disappeared, only to reappear a moment later, catching the pearl-green youko off-guard, causing him to fight back without so much as a half-hesitation between each strike. Sweat was trickling its way down Shenjin’s spine, dampening his shirt, causing the material to cling to his flesh, yet he ignored it stubbornly, his jaw set, his eyes narrowed. Lithely he bared his teeth and slid away from Hiei’s advancement; Hiei grunted in what could have been – and what Shenjin had taken to be – approval at the move and evasion. He struck again; Shenjin blocked and moved to strike – which was turned away with almost laughable ease.

They had been sparring for almost two hours now, and although the fire-demon was going easy on him, he was doing Shenjin no favors; if the boy was in the way of a strike he found he could not block, he was hit, and bled. Twice now they had stopped to allow Yukina to heal small wounds – just a nick here or there – but enough of a scratch that made the poor ice-maiden berate the half-breed and beg them both to be more careful. Each had full intentions of doing so – being more careful, that is – at least until they got back to sparring. Then it had become as before; Hiei was not using the full of his strength, speed, nor capacity, allowing Shenjin due time to fight back, teaching the boy without so much as a word.

It had been Kurama’s idea, in the beginning; he had suggested that now that Shenjin was free of the Master he should learn how to protect himself physically – as opposed to using his youki. He now had a Sword – one which could be Held nor Touched by no other – and so he had better learn to use it, ne?

Shenjin bared his teeth, ducking under another blow and sliding away again; Hiei’s blade whistled in the air above him, just narrowly missing his ear. Across the way, just barely seen over the fire-demon’s shoulder, Shenjin caught sight of the two creatures that made up their current audience. Kaidei was sitting in the grass, leaning against a tree with Leina sprawled within his lap. She was curled around his side, her head upon his shoulder as she played with the thief’s gloved hands, seemingly oblivious to the two sparring only a few leaps before them. Kaidei was murmuring something quietly to her, reaching up with his free hand to brush back a few, pale locks of ice-violet hair from her eyes. Whatever he had said made her giggle; he smiled in return.

A rush of emotion – so fine and so acute – took hold of Shenjin’s heart at the sight, accompanied by a rush of misplaced irritation. He had never felt such things before and stumbled, dismayed at the thought that those emotions might be vexation at their actions. Why did they have to act so intimate anyway? It was as if Kaidei liked her in that way, anyway and – . . . wait . . . was he . . . jealous?

The thought of being jealous of his own sister – who had the advantage of being able to crawl into anyone’s lap and be forgiven in light of her naïveté – so stunned him and shattered his concentration so completely for one, split second that he was wide open to attack. That split second was as long as it took; a heavy, dense blow landed at the corner of his jaw, connecting with such force as to throw him to the ground. Disconcerted and confused, his mind and sight reeling as he tried to gather his wits about him once more, it took a moment him to realize that he was in sprawled in the dirt, hoarse, angry shout the only echo to his landing.

"Oi!"

He blinked, mentally shaking his head to clear it as he looked up. Kaidei was no longer focused upon Leina, but was definitely looking frazzled now, irritation sketched plainly across his features – to be replaced by worry as he met Shenjin’s gaze. Gently a touch probed his mind, followed then by a single, quiet word; Daijoubou?

Aa. Shenjin nodded imperceptibly, returning the thought along the same route it had come. Daijoubou. Delicately he brushed the corner of his lips with the back of his hand before licking away the tiny spots of blood gathering in his mouth. It wasn’t much and wouldn’t last for very long; the pain was already fading to a dull, heated ache. He glanced up as a shadow blocked the light from his gaze; Hiei stood there with his shoulders back and his feet set apart in the leisurely stance of a fighter who knows how to kill and kills well. His blood-flecked eyes were narrowed, his mood indecipherable . . . until he grunted one of his infamous remarks – "Hn." – and reached out a hand to the pearl-green fox spirit still dazed upon the ground. Shenjin took it and was hauled to his feet once more – just as both of them sensed another approaching.

Shenjin stiffened out of wary habit; Hiei didn’t so much as bat an eye as Kurama appeared over the temple steps, dressed in the simple, however nice, clothes he changed into after attending school. As he approached them he smiled. "Konnichiwa. How are the lessons going?"

"Hn. He’s as slow and stupid as you are." Hiei muttered, his dark eyes sliding away in a feign of disinterest. Just as Shenjin was beginning to flush in shame, Kurama laughed.

"That good, eh?"

"Hn."

"’Niichan!" Leina came bounding up between them and leapt into Kurama’s arms, forcing him back a good two half-paces before he recovered his stance again; she didn’t seem to notice nor mind as she wrapped her arms around his neck and began licking his cheek as if she hadn’t seen him for a million years. It was the same greeting she had given to Shenjin when they were but kits; it was the same greeting she gave to both her brothers even now, many years later. The unbound limit of her excitement and shear joy at once again being with either Kurama or Shenjin – after even the shortest amounts of time – were overwhelming and heart-warming. Kurama, after having only known her for two full weeks now, had already come to look forward to such a greeting, and laughed as she glomped him. He hugged her back and nuzzled her ear as she began to coo like a tiny kitten, snuggling into his arms.

Kaidei came forward in a more leisurely manner, nodding a little in greeting. He exchanged glances with Shenjin, then smiled a little as the kitsune flushed in embarrassment and looked away.

True to his intention, the thief had showed up at Genkai’s temple grounds two days after Shenjin and the others’ abrupt landing. There wasn’t so much as a ripple in the wards to introduce them; only Shenjin had known the instant they had arrived. All of the Reikai Tantrei were telling Genkai of what had happened while Shenjin sat to the side, staring in awe at the large silver blade resting across his knees, methodically running his palm down its length, lost in his own thoughts. He had suddenly jerked and glanced up, his silver eyes dilating wildly a split-second before he leapt to his feet, the Sword clattering, forgotten, to the floor. He fled the room and burst into the sunlight, the others following in confusion and worry; there, just appearing over the temple steps, was Kaidei, smiling calmly at them as he approached, Leina by his side and holding his hand. Leina, upon sight of her brother, had cried out and ran to him, and for the first time Kurama was able to see just how much they each cared for the other. Leina’s tiny scrap of a tail hadn’t ceased wagging the whole day. She leapt upon Shenjin and they both went tumbling to the ground, the kitsune-girl making sweet, kitten-like sounds of delight and tiny barks of joy as she licked her brother’s face. Shenjin tilted his head back just enough to watch Kurama as he slowly approached; Leina looked up as well, staring for a moment at the red-haired ningen, her silver and golden eyes narrowing just a shade as if it took her a moment to see past the vision she was given. That intense, pensive look gradually faded – to then be replaced by unrivalled, breathless joy as she jumped up and leapt upon him as well, her thin arms wrapping around his throat. "’Niichan!"

By all rights she should not have recognized him as ningen – yet she did.

Kurama had fallen back a pace, taken off-guard by the sudden weight, light though it may have been. After a moment to recover, though, he smiled and hugged her back, petting her short, ruffled hair and greeting her as he should have many, many years ago. He nuzzled her temple and licked her cheek and told her she was the prettiest thing he had ever seen in all of his years – in both of his lives. He asked her how old she was now and if she was hungry or thirsty . . .

Shenjin glanced from the two to Kaidei, who stepped up to stand by his side. The thief’s dark eyes were calm and quiet; a gentle smile teased about his lips. "One day . . ." he murmured softly, "There will be no more guilt when he asks her such things."

Shenjin looked back to the human that was his brother. He had been told all about the Reikai Tantrei, yet only so much as each member would willingly give for him to hear, and although there was still a discordance between Kurama and he – as there would be for quite some time yet – that, too, would eventually fade with the anger. Shenjin had come to see and accept what he had not been able to as a child; Kurama had made a mistake, and although he had not cared for it in his first life, in his second – once he was able to learn what is was like to love, and what it was to need someone – he had realized exactly what it was he had so unwittingly shoved away. There was guilt there, shame, apology – all of that, Shenjin had felt within the dreamscape, coming from – being of – Kurama. The heartless youko had – at long last – admitted to himself and his own bedamned pride that yes, he had made a mistake – and he was sorry for it.

Shenjin was sorry, too. He was sorry for all that he had done in the past, and he was sorry for hating his brother for so long. He was sorry that he had been reduced to little more than a creature trained to hunt, to fight, to gather, to kill – all, just so he could simply have the chance to survive. He had a long way to go to make up for all the problems in his life, and in his heart – and so did Kurama – but didn’t everyone?

"You came back."

Kaidei looked up and met Shenjin’s gaze. He didn’t smile this time, although the peace within his features was so complete, that even such a smile would have ruined the serenity itself. "Yes."

"You didn’t have to."

"No."

"How long will you stay?"

Leina reluctantly pulled from Kurama’s grasp, taking his hand instead and pulling him over to where Shenjin and Kaidei quietly awaited. She was grinning, practically bursting with joy. "Oniisan, look! Isn’t he beautiful! And he’s learned now, he knows who we are now and he won’t push us away anymore!" Shenjin met Kurama’s emerald gaze; the human ventured to give him a timid smile, although he appeared both embarrassed as well as discomfited at her words. "Kura-chan, look! It is my ‘niichan! I told you he would come for me! I knew he would!"

Kaidei smiled gently. "Aa. That you did. And do you remember what I said to you?" Leina nodded eagerly. "I said that you were very lucky to have such brave and honorable creatures if you think them so worthy to hold your love." He looked to Kurama, then Shenjin before saying a bit more quietly, "Very lucky, indeed."

Leina leapt forward and hugged Kaidei, licking his cheek before hugging Shenjin, then Kurama, and then – because she could think of no one else and he just happened to be standing a little too close (ie. a leap away) – she glomped Hiei as well, with a quiet, delighted cry of, "Gikei!" The fire demon looked both startled as well as enraged and indignant at the touch – not to mention mildly panicked at the term she used in relation to him – yet he found he could no more lift a hand to rid himself of her grip as he could had she been Yukina. It was as thus – with all of the greatest reluctance known to either youkai and ningen alike – he had accepted his immutable position of most-huggable-irrate-fire-demon-of-the-month. Kurama had a good, if quiet, laugh about it; Hiei somehow managed to portray all the ways he would kill the youko-ningen just by look alone, which was returned match for match – anger and irritation by mischief and tenderness – from a pair of jungle-emerald eyes.

Shenjin looked back to Kaidei. His voice was quiet, subdued. ". . . how long will you stay?"

Kaidei’s gaze fell from watching Leina chirp gleefully as she ran her hands through Hiei’s spiky black hair – an act that even Yukina hadn’t dared – to land upon the ground. "Long enough."

Shenjin held his breath, biting his lower lip as he tried to control the base amount of hurt those words wrought within his chest. There was a finality to the thief’s tone. And End to All Things. ". . . long enough for what?"

Kaidei lifted his chin, shaking back a lock of hair that slipped into his eyes. He would not look to pearl-green youko beside him, and yet in a way it felt more as if he would never look away. "For you to learn the Archangel’s Sword."

For one brief, breathless moment hope soared within Shenjin’s heart; he had only used a sword a few times in his life, mostly out of accident. He could no more wield a weapon with any living skill than could a ningen control a demon’s mind. It would take him months – years, even! – to learn how to wield the Sword correctly . . .

"It won’t." Solemn, crimson-violet eyes met his; the silence following his statement grew thick between them, becoming not only deafening but almost unbearable. And then something brushed Shenjin’s palm, and fingers interlaced themselves with his own. Imperceptibly the thief moved closer. He would say no more than that, and Shenjin asked no more questions.

Two weeks . . . two full weeks had passed since then, and yet it seemed like only a few days. Somehow Kurama managed to convince Genkai to let Shenjin and Leina stay at her temple as live-in guests until – as he put it – ‘they are ready.’ Shenjin, unused to sleeping alone, without his sister by his side, had trouble sleeping the first few nights. It was hard to submit to his dreams, when he was constantly fighting back the urge to go to the next room and check on his little sister, just to make sure she was okay. Kaidei’s presence helped, and the two stayed awake long into the darkness of the night just talking – about everything, about nothing – trying to ease Shenjin’s agitation. It never fully worked. The first night he had bad dreams – more like bad memories – that was only broken for a few nameless hours from midnight to the dawning wake of the sun. The second night it was the same. The third – he awoke from a surprisingly pleasant dream a little after midnight, to find a silken bundle of warmth stretched along from his shoulder to his waist, curled against his chest. He blinked down at his hand where it lay buried in a thatch of ice-violet fur; the kitsune chirped softly and burrowed itself farther into his arms, snuffling before growing quiet once more. Amazed, he had looked up . . . only to meet Kaidei’s kind, knowing smile. The thief was sitting off in the shadows of the room, just barely illuminated by the moonlight . . . and with those two comforts by his side, Shenjin slept deeply and well. It was only later that he would learn that Leina always woke and came to him of her own, but it was Kaidei who made sure she returned to her rooms before the others arose to find them. It was not human etiquette, the thief explained, for them to sleep in the same room – let alone next to one another. Shenjin never really cared, though; just the fact that Leina had come, and Kaidei had kept watch nearby, was enough to ease his heart and mind.

He needed that calm. His life had been so hard, both in the past as well as now, when he was uprooted from all he had once known and guided along the path of a new life – one less hazardous, yet also less predictable. He felt odd around the Reikai Tantrei for – although they were all familiar in the sense that he knew them in the fore, they were also incredibly foreign to him. Even Kurama sometimes felt a thousand miles away, looking so . . . human . . . as he did. Only Leina and Kaidei were truly familiar to him now . . . and even then, only one would remain.

Two weeks had passed . . . and every single day, Shenjin found himself wondering if he would see Kaidei – and every single day, he found himself surprised and relieved to awaken, to open his eyes and find the thief still sitting in his corner, violet-red eyes watching him as he slept. He wasn’t completely sure as to what he felt toward Kaidei; certainly, they were friends, but . . . sometimes he found himself noticing little, miniscule things the thief did – like touching his arm to catch his attention, or deliberately doing something that made Shenjin growl irritably. It was as if the thief provoked him sometimes, and then sat back to merely watch as Shenjin reacted. It was . . . unnerving to say the least but also . . . flattering, in a way.

Kurama tried to hide a smile as he snuck a glance over to where Hiei sat leaning against a wall of the temple. The fire-demon was looking unusually acquiescent and – dare he think it? – reasonably comfortable and at ease. Normally that would not have been such an odd sight – rare, but not so odd – save for the fact that where normally he would have sat alone, he now had a very beautiful, ice-violet youko child lying within his lap. Leina had crawled over to him at some point in time while the rest of them had been talking, and Hiei had been helpless to stop her as she sleepily situated herself in his lap. She was like a cat, insistent in such an assured, guileless way; with a soft sigh of contentment she had eventually settled with her head resting against his chest, her left hand toying absently with the white scarf of his cloak as she drifted off to sleep. – They had remained so ever since.

But now, as he looking upon the two, both relaxed and unguarded in sleep, his heart was touched. Yuusuke, Genkai, and the others quietly bid him goodnight – wisely leaving him to awaken the pair so that they could retire for the night. Kurama smiled tenderly as he approached them, kneeling before Hiei, his emerald eyes roving first over the young kitsune child – his sister – before lifting to cherish the sight of his beloved so at ease. There was an extremely rare look of serenity across Hiei’s features . . . so unlike the fiercely guarded look he held when awake.

Quietly, almost silently, Shenjin came up to kneel by his side. "I’ll take Leina to her room." He whispered, smiling a little as Kurama looked away.

"Arigato, Shenjin."

With the extreme, utmost in care, the pearl-green youko eased his sister from Hiei’s lap. She turned instantly into his touch, wrapped her arms around his neck, snuffling a little as he picked her up and stood. Sleepily she mumbled a few words of question – to which Shenjin murmured a quiet response and took his leave with her cradled against his chest as if she were the most precious of treasures in any world.

Kurama watched them go, before his gaze was once again drawn to the fire-demon still lax in sleep before him. How to awake Hiei . . . he could just shake the assassin, or reach out and touch his shoulder – both motions had effectively worked before – yet . . . he found himself loathe to disturb the diminutive demon’s slumber. He looked so young, so peaceful, sleeping there . . . With a second faint, tender smile, Kurama slowly moved forward, leaning over to gently, silently brush his cheek again Hiei’s, barely even touching as he breathed deeply of the fire-demon’s scent. He smelled . . . wonderful – just as Kurama had always known he would. He closed his eyes and took a second breath, wishing for all the world that he could kiss the bare flesh of Hiei’s throat and . . . but he was human again, and such things would not be over-looked. Had he still been youko it wouldn’t have made much difference – he had, in point of fact, done much more to the fire-demon while in his youko form – but in his human form it was an entirely different position all together. With a faint, painful sigh of regret he pulled away –

Only to meet a pair of smoldering crimson eyes. He blinked, started to pull farther away in chagrin – yet found himself held still, as something was clenched around one of his long red side-locks. That something just so happened to be Hiei’s hand, and he didn’t exactly seem inclined to let Kurama go. They just sat there, silence stretching wide between them, so close as to feel the others’ breath, Hiei held tightly to Kurama by more than just physical touch, Kurama irresistibly drawn by the almost gentle, albeit intense, weight of Hiei’s stare. He bit the inside of his lip uneasily, and then dared to throw his life to the Fates . . . closing his eyes, he moved closer again, nuzzling Hiei’s jaw in a brief, aching caress before slowly allowing himself to drift closer to his desire. Gently he nuzzled the corner of his fire-demon’s mouth, his lips parting. His heart picked up a pace as Hiei shifted the slightest fraction, ever-so-slightly returning the feathery touch. Not a kiss . . . only a touch, each teasing the other, lips never quite aligning as if to meet.

"Hiei . . ."

This would be it . . . Kurama thought to himself, his heart fluttering within his chest, for some reason constricted of the breath that should have come so easily for him. This would be it. He would tell Hiei how he felt, and come what may. He had to. His courage, although illusive and fickle, was at a steadfast hold for the moment and he would tell the fire-demon everything he felt within his heart, before that courage faltered. He would. But first . . . he was going to kiss him . . .

"Hey, Kurama!"

With a strangled, choking gasp Kurama jerked away from Hiei so fast he lost his balance. There was only one quick, dark flash of heat – a brief surge of anger – before Hiei was gone, only the flickering black after-image shimmering in his wake. Kurama blinked, lost for a moment as he struggled to realize what had just happened. He didn’t have but a second, for Yuusuke came farther into the room, loudly proclaiming,

"Your okaasan called! Something about one of your uncles or something getting married." Yuusuke stopped. "Oi, what’s wrong, man? You look like you’re about ready to kill someone. Hiei didn’t piss you off, did he?"

Slowly . . . oh, so slowly . . . Kurama pushed himself to his feet, baring his teeth. "No, Yuusuke . . ."

Yuusuke sweat-dropped and took a step back. "Did Shenjin piss you off?"

Kurama advanced another pace, shaking his head with slow, deliberate movements. "No, Yuusuke."

Yuusuke – catching sight of a strange, unsettling flash of gold in the kitsune-ningen’s emerald eyes – began sweat-dropping profusely and warily skittered back again, glancing back and forth between himself and the door, judging the distance. "Anou . . . did I piss you off?" He stiffened his spine – He was Urameshi Yuusuke, dammit – and he didn’t have to take this from anyone! "Whatever it was – I didn’t do it!" He declared valiantly, clenching his hand into a fist and lifting it, cheering himself on. One last, flickering glance at Kurama, however, quickly convinced him otherwise. "Eep! Gomennasaigonnagonowbye!!" With that, he fled. To hell with who he was – he wasn’t ready to die!

Kurama watched him go, eyes narrowed. Many long, irrational minutes passed – during which he contemplated many of his more – interesting – ways of torture. That, however, just would not do. He wilted abruptly, his shoulders slumping forward as he hid his face in his hands. So close . . . he had been so close . . .

"Yuusuke," he vowed quietly, his voice muffled by his hands, "The next time Hiei tries to kill you . . . I’m going to let him. Just because."

Magenta eyes lifted to the sky, wandering here and there, taking in the dappled blue through the branches of tall, looming ningen trees bordering the depths of the forest surrounding Genkai’s temple. Farther off, too far for ears and eyes to either hear or see such activities, Shenjin was once again sparring with the fire-demon half-breed, his skills being put to the test as he battled frantically to keep up with the lightning fast moves Hiei was known for. Sword clashed against sword, releasing each a different sound like heavy, clamoring chimes – sharp, piercing light tones for Hiei’s katana, lower, more intense tones for the Sword in Shenjin’s paws. Each differed and varied from the other – yet each rang clear and true, a wordless testimony of speed, skill, and precision.

The paws of the youko, however, were guided more by the Sword than his own mind. The Powers of the Sword took his most basic instincts of survival, drew them forth, and coupled them with equally basic instincts in how to fight defensively with the weapon itself. Therein lie the almost natural ability at swordplay and blade-fighting that Shenjin have revealed in the past two weeks – but only so long as the Sword was in his hands. Once traded in for a separate weapon, all his abilities were lost – save for those the half-breed drilled into him. Yes, the Sword would keep Shenjin alive . . . but Hiei would sharpen his senses, his skills, teach him how to fend for himself and how to use that which had been granted him. He would teach Shenjin not only how to fight with the weapon he was given, but also with others, not so easily held or used. He would teach him how to center in battle, how to narrow his focus down to only his opponents – first one, and then a few, and then many, if need be. He would teach him how to make the blade a part of himself – a mere extension that – if lifted correctly – could never be severed from the whole.

Of course, this was too far off for the chimera to actually see.

It was more of a sensing . . . an awareness, that never quite faded. Wherever Shenjin was, whatever he chose to do at any given time –

"I’ll be with you." The whisper broke the relative silence of the woodlands; Kaidei tilted his head back and closed his eyes, reveling in the feel of the warm sunlight upon his face. It was strange, now that he thought of it. The bond he had initiated back in the Master’s domain – the mind-link that enabled him to feel Shenjin so completely and even, if he so wished, speak to him – had not been broken. It should have, and yet it stayed, keeping them tied to each other, connected – bonded – because of the Sword.

At this thought, a small frown creased the chimera’s brow.

The Archangel’s Sword.

The Shadow Master – whoever he had been, whatever name he had claimed to hold – had had no idea what he was striving so hard to claim as his own. All the old scrolls he had read, all the years he had spent trailing from one clue and mam’s tale to another . . . all, wasted. And for what? A weapon that was Powerful enough to kill both gods as well as mortals? The surge of erotic euphoria that came with such Power – or, perhaps – A chance to be the ruler of all the Makai?

He grimaced, baring his fangs to the peaceful woods. Was all of that truly worth the price one had to pay?

If anyone had asked him, he would have answered them truthfully in saying that if he had the choice, he would gladly forget any and all information and knowledge of the Sword – from what it could do, to the fact that it even existed in the first place. To his way of thought, it was just a nuisance. Just one big, terrible, boring, seductive, tenacious nuisance that he wished he’d never had the misfortune to even get involved with in the first place.

Ah . . . but what did he know? He was only a simple, little, mortal thief, ne?

What does a thief know about awe-inspiring Power and domination? Nothing, really, when the only thing you could dominate in one given day was what was in your pockets or on your person – and even then sometimes you became subordinate to your own blazen acts of ill luck. Kaidei shrugged to himself, the grimace morphing into the sly, cheeky smile he had been known throughout the lands for.

Hmm . . . He opened his eyes and lowered his face from the sunlight, lifting a single gloved hand thoughtfully and staring at it for several moment before giving a little snort as if confirming something to himself and to his own mind. That hand clenched – his eyes lifted a little, staring off into the distance. Nothing but a simple, little, mortal thief.

Calmly he lifted his other hand and held them both out, palms facing once another as if clasping some invisible sphere as he once more closed his eyes. Concentration . . . not a hard thing for him, really. Not nearly so hard as it was for Shenjin sometimes, especially – another broad, cheeky smile – when Kaidei was set to depriving him of it. How he loved to goad that beautiful youko . . . and with such memories within his mind, it was easy to find that single, crimson-green threading that connected his consciousness to Shenjin’s. As it was back in the Master’s domain – his awareness drew taught and then snapped back, bringing with it visions, feelings of two alternate states of being in one. He was the chimera standing in the forest leagues away – and yet he was the youko, sweating, moving, dodging and striking, staying just one step ahead, one pace behind –

Kaidei placed both these sensations – of being of himself and of being of Shenjin – upon hold for a moment, shifting them to the side of his awareness with the utmost in delicacy and care. He didn’t want Shenjin to sense his presence, nor discover his intentions. Not yet, anyway.

Carefully keeping part of his awareness on the sparring still going on farther on between youko kit and fire demon, he balanced the other part of his senses on his task, delving into himself, into the very depths of being that created who he was and named the formation of his youki. Slowly a pale, ice-cold light began to gather between his palms and then crackle into life – a shifting, snapping, tiny sphere of pearl-green energy formed itself into life. That energy sharpened, pulling taught and licking out with tongue of fire and electricity – it expanded, morphing into an orb of barely contained lightning. Shenjin’s power . . . Shenjin’s ability . . . within his hands. He pulled his wrists apart a little more; the sphere expanded between his palms, pulsing with each inch added to the distance between one black glove and another. Above, the sky began to darken and roil with dark, almost melancholic clouds, thunder rumbling like the tolling of ancient drums within the air. Almost off-handedly – with barely a flickering lance and little to no attention – he acknowledged this and silenced it. Mentally he brushed that portion away; he had no need for a storm – merely the lightning alone would do. Instantly the clouds separated, flowing back to their original places across the sky and fading back to their peaceful shade of cotton-white as the thunder died away.

And all the while, he monitored his fox, a portion of his awareness now split between the lightning in his grip while the other remained solely upon the feel of Shenjin – waiting for any sign of weariness or acknowledgement of any sort of drain upon his ki. Feeling none, he continued, the sphere of blazing lightning growing larger and larger. He drew his palms as far apart as they would reach and then turned them out; still, the sphere steadily grew larger, until he was encompassed within it. The flashes crackled and lashed at the grasses and sands beneath his feet; he snapped his wings open and leapt up, hovering within the air for one long suspended moment, the sphere growing still. He was just about to –

And there – a twinge to his consciousness – Shenjin stumbling in his step. He cut off the stemming flow of foreign, youko youki and held it stabilized at its current maximum, his eyebrows rising in appreciative respect. "Ahh . . . impressive." He murmured to himself, eyeing the sparking, writhing shield-like orb that lay at least five feet in diameter around him. Shenjin – where he stood before the fire-demon, held up a paw for a break and leaned over, placing his hands upon his knees as a wave of dizziness and exhaustion touched his limbs. He could feel the drain upon his youki – but he could definitely feel the effects of it. Calmly Kaidei took note of this and dismissed the lightning without hesitation. He would not harm his fox, nor cause him any more discomfort than Shenjin absolutely had to endure.

He turned to face the direction in which Genkai’s temple lay, folding his arms across his chest as he did so. A soft smile crossed is lips; he shook his head slightly, a feeling of pride and yes, even a touch of awe welling within him. "Very impressive, indeed, little fox . . ."

A light, almost lazily wandering breeze picked up and swirled around him briefly, causing a few leaves and bits of sand upon the ground to arise and dance about his feet; Kaidei laughed at this, shaking his head. "Alright, then. Let’s see what you have to show me."

His words were followed then by quick, chirping warbles and quips of sound dancing within the breeze from some vague area above him, accompanied by the slight jingling of bells. That jingling grew gradually more melodic – shifting back and forth between being random sounds to almost creating a wind-swept song – before something fell from the heights above to hover before him. It stilled, it moved, it shifted and remained in place, slowly turning within the designated pocket of air it had settled within. Kaidei shook back a lock of hair from his eyes and studied the inch-wide opal-shaded pebble-bell, taking in the height at which it hovered, the calm way it moved in its tight little ripples – and at long last eased the discomforting tenseness in his shoulders. A smile spread across his lips – a true smile, of relief and reassurance. The opal-sphere beamed a cheerful melody back – mimicking his feelings – before disappearing in a swirl of golden starlight.

Kaidei was – needless to say – quite a bit more than relieved. It seemed as if all would go well, at least for a time. Shenjin and Leina would be alright, as would the rest of the Reikai Tantrei. And as for him . . . well . . .

He took up an old, ragged-black sling-pouch he had recovered from an old cache back within the Makai, settling it over his shoulder and across his chest. As for him – he had some travelling to do. He had not meant to disrupt Shenjin’s life so very much – nor any creature for that matter – and now that he had, some unwelcome eyes had probably noticed. They would come looking for him soon – either him, or the Sword, since it was hard to find one without needing to find the other – and he had no intentions of being caught so easily.

Returning to the roaming life he had known would be fun and playful – his two favorite facts of life, and that which he could not live without. In fact, there was only one downside to returning to the path-worn life he had traveled before; he would have to say goodbye to the one person he was dreadfully close to falling in love with.

He couldn’t help it; his hands clenched of their own accord as Shenjin’s youki separated itself from the more natural reiki within the forest, approaching upon near-silent feet. His voice, when he spoke, was low and some-what strained, for he could not tell whether . . . "Do you have it with you?"

A hesitation, curious, yet subdued – he would wonder, but not ask – before Shenjin replied; "No. The Sword is back at the temple."

Kaidei let free the breath he had been holding in one quick, light rush, relaxing more easily where he sat upon a boulder-stone, still hidden within the forest. He could not help but remain cautious around the Sword – and thus Shenjin, whenever the youko held the weapon within his paws – for the seduction and pull of the blade had not ceased, ever after its claiming of the Wielder. It still wanted Kaidei – and Kaidei was still resisting it with all his will. He never went within three feet of Shenjin if the blade was anywhere upon his person – a notable truth that the pearl-green youko certainly had noticed, despite Kaidei’s efforts to shield it.

The thief had been gone all day – doing what, Shenjin was not sure, and wasn’t quite confident that he wanted to know. A few hours ago the sun had gone down and he had waited tensely for the Chimera within his room, yet to no avail; the thief never came, and with each second that passed, the fear within Shenjin’s heart had strengthened. He had feared a thousand things – all of them involving Kaidei’s leave without notice, without regard, and more importantly – without saying goodbye. That fear had spawned restlessness – that restlessness had spawned discomfort – until he had been forced to get up from his sleeping mat and come outside, following the instinctive guiding his feet and mind had urged upon him.

Here, resting on a stone with his back to the rest of the woods and essentially Genkai’s temple, the thief was found, his wings folded tightly against his spine. He had not said hello, nor greeted Shenjin in any manner; his first words had been those of caution.

Shenjin, whether he had intended to or not, returned the favor. His silver eyes fell to the ragged, dust-marked sac resting by the thief’s hip and remained. His voice, when he spoke, was soft but almost hurt – wishing for the thief’s denial, yet knowing it would not come. "You’re leaving."

Kaidei bowed his head, dragging his hands in his lap. "Aa."

The pearl-green youko shook his head – his own, grasping form of denial – before he slowly, one hesitating pace at a time, walked around to stand before the thief. Kaidei did not look up. When Shenjin ducked his head in an attempt to meet his gaze, Kaidei looked away again, refusing him even that slight reassurance. "Will I . . . ever see you again?"

"Aa." It was soft this time, breathy and faint, more born of wishful thinking than true promise – and he could tell. Shenjin could tell.

"How do I know?" Shenjin grimaced, reaching up a hand to brush at the irritating wetness gathering in his eyes. He bit his lip, then forced himself to turn his back to the thief, struggling not to betray feelings, yet already having done, for his voice wavered and broke. "How do I know that you’re telling the truth? That I’ll ever see – you – again?"

Kaidei looked up then, sadly taking in the sight of Shenjin’s struggle to maintain himself. The youko’s shoulders were trembling; his ears were back and his tail . . .

Shenjin started and gasped, his eyes widening as he felt the thief’s hand upon his tail, at first only stroking it – then burying his fingers within the long, velvety fur. He closed his eyes painfully, flushing at the almost tender gentleness to Kaidei’s touch.

"This . . . I gave this to you." Kaidei wrapped a few thick locks of fur around his knuckles and gave a little tug – not enough to hurt – but enough to take the kitsune by surprise. Shenjin gave a thick, gasping sound and stumbled back, turning as he did so to catch himself before he fell. This of course brought him level, face-to-face with the Chimera thief – who still had hold of his tail. "I gave this to you." Kaidei repeated, reaching up to brush a few pearl-green strands of hair from Shenjin’s eyes. "It’s mine."

Shenjin flushed deeply, inclined to look away from the thief’s crimson-violet gaze, yet found himself unable to. "But you’re leaving me . . ."

Kaidei shook his head gently, his fingers trailing down to wipe away a tear upon Shenjin’s cheek. "I’ll never leave you, Jin-chan. You’ll always be able to feel me, and – if you try hard enough – then I will be able to hear your thoughts, no matter where we are."

"Why? . . . Why do you have to go away?"

Kaidei looked away again, thus breaking the sight of Shenjin’s own pleading gaze. It was the kind of question born from the minds of kitlets – the simplicity of a heart still so young and not yet fully tainted by the forces of what lay in the world beyond. It was a hard thing to hear, and an even harder thing to find an answer to. "Because . . . it’s not safe for me to stay. Soon – very soon – others will hear of the Sword. They will come for you – but before they get that far, they will come for me, and I will not allow them to make it beyond."

The words were there – unspoken – between them. I will protect you.

Shenjin took hold of Kaidei’s wrist and pressed his cheek into the thief’s palm. Kaidei smiled faintly, the old mischievous airs returning once more. "Ah, Jin-chan," he murmured, ruffling the pale green thatch of hair betwixt Shenjin’s ears. "It won’t be so bad. I’ll come and see you as often as I can. And every time you come back to the Makai, all you have to do is call me, and I’ll be there. I promise."

"Kura-kun . . ."

They both turned as one, Kaidei with a ready smile, Shenjin with a start, his cheeks flushing in embarrassment. Leina – whose approaching presence had not been sensed by either of the two – was walking out of the shadows dressed in only one of the night-gown robes Genkai had loaned her. Her ears were lax and low at half-back; she was yawning, rubbing her eyes with one fist as she sleepily made her way forward. "Are you going away?"

Kaidei traded glances with Shenjin before smiling again. "Aye, kitten. I have to leave for awhile."

"You’ll come back, won’t you?"

"Aye, I will. Someday."

Leina beamed, her silver and golden eyes almost shut in a lazy, weary manner. "Okay." Was all she said, before spreading her arms out wide, tilting her head, and coming forward. Kaidei laughed and – lingeringly – released Shenjin’s tail to give the girl a hug. Leina wrapped her arms around his neck and began licking his cheek – long, tired licks interchanged with short, friendly licks. Shenjin, standing next to them, envied his sister’s freedom of expression – not for the first time, and probably not for the last, where Kaidei was concerned.

Kaidei took Leina’s face within his palms and nuzzled her temple before giving her a gentle lick in return. It was a youko thing – a display of affection, however naïve or intricate – and was one of the many culture differences that he loved to be a part of. What he did next though, was not out of honor – but out of his own silent wish. For as he released Leina, he turned to Shenjin, taking the startled youko’s face within his palms as he had Leina, licking his cheek as well.

Shenjin’s eyes grew round and wide; he flushed again and quickly looked away as Kaidei smiled.

Leina quipped something sleepily, stepping up to Shenjin and burying her nose in his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his waist. Instinctively he hugged her back, watching in silence as the thief gathered up his pack and slung it over his shoulder once more. His wings rustling with a soft, leathery sound, he looked up one last time – no smile now, only a solemn look that betrayed any last words he would have said.

And thus it was without a word that Kaidei turned around . . . and left.

"It's nice, isn't it?"

Hiei cast a quick glance towards the redhead striding serenely beside him. His hands were stuffed in the pockets of his dark pants, trying to look calm so the youko-human would not be suspicious, but inwardly a little tense. "What?" he snapped, the word coming out a little sharper than he'd meant it to sound.

"The weather." Kurama smiled down at him warmly, unruffled, the breeze brushing a few strands of flame-colored hair across round cheeks. He didn’t seem to notice the darkness of Hiei’s current mood – or rather, if he did, he didn’t show it. Blissfully unaware of anything other than the fact that Hiei was actually walking with him – an act that – although it was not rare – was meaningful and special to him all the same, Kurama chose not to pester the fire demon too much by asking what bothered his friend. "It's beautiful, ne? Not too hot, not too cold."

"Hn." Hiei looked away, scowling, and Kurama allowed silence to settle comfortably between them, a small smile on his lips. They said nothing for several long moments, simply walked side by side, not quite touching, but closer than most boys would stand. Kurama simply waited, knowing that when he was ready, Hiei would –

Abruptly Hiei stopped, glaring at nothing in particular before turning upon him, leveling that glare upon Kurama. "I don't, you know," he snarled.

Kurama blinked innocently down at him. "Excuse me?"

"Love you." the dark Koorime clarified, scowling fit to kill pigeons, hands shoving even deeper into his pockets, shoulders hunched instinctively in defense. He glanced away, disgusted with himself yet at the same time cursing Kurama. All day – and all the night before – his mind had constantly danced back and forth between the kiss shared between them in the dreamscape, and the words he himself had spoken. The youko may not remember it – but fire-demons had a perfect memory, and never forgot anything they dreamt, saw, heard, or read. His own words - I give you my devotion, Kurama. I give you all that I am - my flesh, my heart, my soul, my very life. I give you my love, forever – disturbed him. He did not love anyone – not even Kurama . . . and he wanted that known, perfectly clear.

Kurama blinked again, halting and facing the smaller demon. He cocked his head slightly, watching him, but just as he opened his mouth to speak, Hiei sent him another fierce frown and disappeared in a flicker of black.

The kitsune stood where he was for a moment, blandly staring at the spot where the fire demon had been. Finally he closed his eyes, turning around and continuing on his way home, fingers curling around the textbook he carried. A tiny smile began to form upon his lips, then grew; he ducked his head to hide it, letting the long red mane of hair slip down from his shoulders so Hiei – who, despite his near-ferocious departure still remained nearby – would be unable to see. Not quite daring to voice the words aloud for fear the fire-demon would hear them, he merely kept them within his thoughts and walked on, accepting Hiei’s negative declaration – for the moment.

^_^ The End ^_^