Kitsune Tears
by Guardian

Yay!! *claps happily* Part three is done! ^_^ okay, so I'm proud of this part. Not sure exactly why, but I am. The ending kind of gets a teensy-weensy bit tedious in my own opinion, but I'm not sure ... let me know what you think, ne? Many thanks to those who responded to parts 1 and 2. ^_^ you've greatly encouraged me to continue on, no matter how many times I stare at this story in distaste and go "I hate it. it sucks. blah" So, anyway, that's enough from me for now. *bows graciously*

Standard Disclaimers, blah, etc.
Warnings: a little more shonen ai than part two eh ...
Similarities are intentional - OOC-ness isn't, so if you spot it, let me know so I can fix it! Like I said b-4, this is my first fan-fic (ever), so I'm relatively shabby at portraying other ppl's characters.
anou.....
I think that's all for now. ^_^

C&C, flames, etc - all welcome - at any time! let me know what you think!

Ja!
~ Guardian ~

Yukina’s eyes widened as she timidly lifted on tiny hand as if to touch... yet she drew back as if she didn’t quite dare as her trembling gaze moved from the half-bare chest before her, up to the silver eyes grimacing in pain.

"Are you... alright?" He whispered brokenly, his pearl-green ears twitching before snapping to lie flat against his skull. He stood a bare half-pace before her, his palms against the wall on either side of her shoulders, his back to the red-haired ningen and the half-breed. He kept his muscles tight – too tight, for they screamed in agony at the effort of doing so – yet he didn’t want those pretty eyes to see the true depth of the pain he felt. One half of his mind was set to ease her own fear, even as the other half ran in frantic circles, shouting incoherent words of pain and shock and fury.

Slowly she nodded, not quite able to use her voice in those bare few moments... yet a feeble cry escaped as her eyes lowered farther to the ground, to witness the fist-sized pool of blood gathering on the stones beneath their feet. "You’re hurt..." she whispered.

He forced a pale smile and shook his head. "Not important. It’s..." he grimaced against a shock of pain that sheered into his spine and dug its way all the way down to the tip of his tail. "Not too bad."

"I... Yukina, I..." the ningen’s voice came from some vague place behind him, weak and faltering. "Gomen... I – didn’t mean for..."

His silver eyes narrowed in anger, even as he tried to cap this wayward emotion before the ice-maiden. "Go, little one." He murmured, "Go inside."

"H-Hai." She slipped away and hurried back into the temple. He bowed his head and tried not to think of the searing wound now etched along his back, or the alarming amount of blood that was staining the tattered remains of his tail and falling to the ground beneath him. Without grace, without fear, without thought, he had thrown himself in the path of the blow and just barely made it in time to safe the little maiden from the ningen’s whip. Now... that human... would pay...

"G-Gomen..." the red-haired ningen was whispering, his voice trembling. "I... Yukina... Hiei, I didn’t mean..."

His anger flared and grew, yet slammed into a stale-mate at the sound of the half-breed’s voice practically roaring the one name he hated with a passion above all others.

"Ku-Ra-MA!!"

A great, black wave of fury washed over him, seeping through his veins and turning his blood to the very shadows themselves. Kurama... it couldn’t possibly have been but... With a barely-perceptible stumble he whirled to face the human and the half-breed, a low, snappling rumble itching within the palm of his right hand.

"Hiei," the ningen was stammering, his emerald eyes wide and lowered to stare – pleading – at the diminutive fire-demon. ". . . gomen..."

"If I had my power..." was the only response, weighted in a heavy, forbidding growl; one small fist held so tight in force it was trembling was lifted in threat.

Let me see... he snapped his right hand down so fast his wrist gave a loud, dense sound of protest; the itching disappeared; the human disappeared. Hazy white clouds swirled around it in one brief, flickering moment before that graceful figure with the long, flaming red hair was no more. In his place stood a tall, proud youko with a silken mane of silver hair that hung low to his waist, a tail that brushed seductively against his thighs, and sharp, piercing golden eyes. His true form...

Hiei stepped back from Kurama abruptly as he – for no apparent reason – changed from human to youko in seconds flat. Kurama himself appeared disconcerted by this, yet more troubled by the fact that once in Youko form his rose whip faded to a blood-red rose, to a crumbling leaf, then farther to a tiny seed that fell to the ground with a soft, nearly inaudible plink of sound.

"You..."

Youko Kurama’s gaze leapt up to meet a pear of flat, molten eyes much like his own – much too similar – as they roiled in an absolute form of fury that the smaller, pearl-green youko could barely contain. Yes, he could see now... for some reason the shadows had been sucked away from the creature, and he was given view of the bedraggled youth – short, rumpled hair, bloody clothing, and all. He was young, could barely have been fifteen if even that in sight – which meant he was maybe a hundred years or so in true age – yet stood with his feet parted, his head bowed as if he were about to call the wrath of the heavens down upon them. Around his left fore-arm was wrapped a long strip of teargems interwoven with some silvery material; another such length was wrapped thrice times around his throat in a sort of collar. Youko Kurama gave a short, humored snort and set his hands upon his hips. "This is the up-start who tried fight us?"

"Hn." Kurama started at the tone of Hiei’s derisive sound and met that hard crimson gaze; the fire demon looked up to the sky... where storm clouds were gathering extremely fast...

"How dare you." The pearl-essence youko was trembling so violently that they could practically see every wash of fury that caused every minute tremor; the air grew thick and dense around them, heavy with moisture and cloying with the scent of vibrations. Before long it began to snap and crackle, tiny blue and green sparks teasing their eyes in seemingly random patterns around the whole yard. "I should have known." The youko’s voice grew as thick with emotion as the air around them; pure, undiluted fury blazed within his eyes. The teargems at his throat and about his arm slowly, faintly began to glow. "Only you would strike such innocence without a second glance." The snapping sparks within the air came more and more, faster as some deep resonance gathered about the creature, the shadows fleeing even farther from his general locale. What was left appeared to merely be a young youko with such hatred as could destroy Hell itself burning with a molten silver gaze that flickered and shifted tones with each bright flash of crackling electricity. "Look well upon me, Kurama!" He shouted, the teargems blazing in fierce shades of blue and green, all the snapping energy coalescing around his left arm. He drew this arm back and held it out to them, his body visibly shaking with the effort it cost him as within the fury a grimace of sheer agony found its place. "Look well upon your own brother –" Lightning formed along his arm, whipping and crackling above the flesh and muscle in a wild, thrashing dance as beautiful, as stunning, as horrific, as the Kokuryuuha – the Black Dragon – itself. "For my face shall be the last thing you see, before I send you to HELL!!" He practically roared the last few words as around them, echoing his own husky cry, a clapping boom of thunder rumbled across the landscape. The lightning gathered around his arm blazed white-hot – ice-cold in its magnificence – as his ki arose to a deafening pitch for which to attack –

Yet in the next moment the youko screamed – a loud, unfettered scream of pure agony as the lightning shattered and dispersed in a huge expense of light. It was almost like watching stars burst free from one condensed point, yet still the youko stood, wracked by screams of terror and agony, his hands up and ripping at the strain of teargems at his throat. One last roll of thunder boomed across the heavens, drowning out the last pathetic whimper that escaped his lips before the shadows he had deigned to use so well accepted him within their depths, and he knew no more. Across the yard Hiei and Kurama stood in silence, each one stiffened and expectant still of the raging attack that had – for one reason or another – not come as above them the heavens split wide, and it began to rain.

"Kurama-san, you simply must be still. I can’t Heal this if you don’t stop – moving –" Yukina tried somewhat unsuccessfully to keep hold of the silver youko’s chin as he effectively slipped from her grasp for the third time, grumbling moodily to himself.

Whatever that detestable little youko pup had done to him to change his form from human to youko it had not yet worn off, and Kurama was not a happy camper. Somehow, once hearing the tale, Yuusuke and Kuwabara had made it appear that the whole incident between the two youkos had been Kurama’s fault. Not to mention the fact that he was now supporting a bruise the exact size and shape of Hiei’s fist along the lower line of his jaw for accidentally causing the fire-demon’s sister to be in a possible position of danger. With a low, irritable grunt he hunched his slim shoulders and obediently sat still as Yukina tried to heal this last; even so, the silky length of his tail thumped the floor in even, rhythmic beats as his golden eyes slithered across the floor to glare at the offending youko-boy-creature lying on a cot across the room. It was all that damned creature’s fault... if he hadn’t tried to kidnap Hiei none of this would have happened and everything would still be as it had been before – so uneventful as to be almost boring.

His gaze shifted up – only to meet a pair of smoldering crimson eyes that bored into his own, causing a whiplash of fire to race up his spine. Hiei sat upon a table on the opposing side of the cot in his usual position – one leg up with his arm resting upon his knee, the other dangling free – with his katana held in a leisurely position crossing his chest and resting upon his shoulder. Inari, but he looked so sexy when he was pissed...

"Hey, Kurama, stop staring at the kid like you want to eat him alive!" Kurama started as Yuusuke laughed. "If he put himself in the way of Rose Whip to protect Yukina, he can’t be all that bad, eh?"

The kid... the youko. Relief cooled the heat in Kurama’s blood as he realized Yuusuke was talking about the stranger still lying unconscious, and not about Hiei. "Yuusuke, do not underestimate any demon. Especially a youko." He retorted softly, taking refuge in the striking words of wisdom he could always dredge up at times like this to cover his own tracks. "Just because he protected Yukina does not mean he is a – ‘good guy.’ You don’t know what his motives were. He could have just been protecting her because he meant to kidnap her as well."

"Hn." The attention of those gathered flickered to Hiei briefly before centering in upon Yuusuke and Kurama once more.

"You think you’re going to turn back into Shuiichi anytime soon? Your ‘Kaasan called not too long ago. I told her you were staying with us another night."

"Arigato." Kurama returned in a some-what strained obedience in regard to his Shuiichi aspect and his ningen 'mother'. The truth was told however, when he rolled his eyes as he straightened from his moody slouch, Yukina having finished healing the patent Hiei ‘final-warning-you-better-not-ever-try-to-hurt-my-sister-again-even-by-chance-of-accident-within-battle-or-I’ll-kill-you-you-stupid-youko’ bruise. He bit back upon a derisive snort – which would have mimicked that of the moody little fire-demon’s exactly had it reached the point of sound – and pushed himself to his feet. Immediately all eyes were riveted upon his tall, slim youko form, watching as he trailed his fingers through his long silver mane and tossed it over his shoulder in an unconsciously seductive movement. "I consulted Genkai about it, and we’ve come to the same conclusion."

They waited... and waited... and waited... until Hiei finally barked out in a gruff, abrupt voice, "Which is?"

Youko Kurama gave him a cool, side-long glance that was so filled with hidden meanings that Hiei immediately looked away, a pale flush covering his cheeks. It was so brief, however, that no one would have even recognized it for what it was – if they weren’t still looking at Kurama. No one but the silver youko had seen it, and the pleasure that went through him caused a taunting smile to come to his lips. "It’s essentially the same spell and Power as that of the spell you, Hiei, were under, and neither she nor I know of a ready cure." And trust me, I’m going to use my time as youko to my advantage, my delicious little fire-demon...

"Oi, and what’s all this about him being your brother?"

"He’s not my brother!" Kurama snarled so quickly and with such ferocity that the whole room – excluding the unconscious pearl-green youko and Hiei – took a collective step back. The change from being calm, cool, seductive and clever – the typical Youko Kurama – to being furious, harsh, dangerous, and malicious – Psycho Youko Kurama – was immediate and devastating. Barely had the question passed Kuwabara’s lips before the silver youko’s tufted ears snapped back, his silver waterfall of a tail lifting a few inches and growing stiff in a mixture of anger and indignation.

Yuusuke gave him an odd, calculating look, lifting his chin a little as he did so. "Is that right?"

Kurama took a step back and forced himself to relax. "He – we look nothing alike." He replied lamely, crossing his arms. Unfortunately, this made him look and sound like a petulant child; even Yukina had trouble stifling her giggles as she covered her mouth with her hand. Yet the look within those golden eyes of his silenced any further questions for a good long while, so each member of the Reikai Tantrei eventually busied themselves with other things in wait for the mysterious youko-boy to awaken.

An hour later found Kurama staring out at the down-pour of rain moodily, the itch to either run and roll around in a field or fight someone almost over-powering. He always had that urge when first becoming the Youko once more; with a sly grin that was almost evil in its hint of cunning and maliciousness the Youko deliberately headed back to the room which held their unconscious charge. Hiei was in there still standing guard. Maybe he could – convince – the cute little fire-demon to play a little bit...

He slinked into the room and casually pulled himself up to sit upon the table next to Hiei – who studiously ignored him, even as he wriggled seductively closer. "Hiei..." he murmured in demure, velvety tones, scooting closer until they sat with their thighs and shoulders pressed against one another. "You’re not really mad at me for the accident earlier, are you? With Yukina? You know I didn’t mean to. You know I would never hurt anyone important to you, baby." His hand slid over to tease the black-clothed flesh of Hiei’s inner thigh as he said this; the lightning-fast hit that connected with his jaw sent him tumbling off the table and kissing the floor in three-seconds flat. He let out a soft whoosh of air, his gaze setting as one to accept a challenge. Fine, if his little pet wanted to be like that... he pushed himself up, leapt back upon the table, and waited for the deep, inevitable baritone of his companion’s voice to address him...

"Don’t get frisky, fox." Came the heavy reply a few moments later; Kurama bit back upon a grin and immediately slid closer, pressing against the fire-demon and laying his head on the small shoulder.

"Alright, baby. I’ll be good." He kept his hands still, yet allowed his long, silken tail to slide along the table-top and curl around to the other side of Hiei; for his part, the half-koorime said nothing, and allowed the motion. Oh, but Kurama wasn’t finished yet. Not by a long shot, he thought with a mental smirk. In his human form he was all-too susceptible to rejection and too shy to reveal his feelings; but in Youko form he could tease his delicious little morsel all he liked – the fire-demon over-looked all motions of seduction as merely part of the youko nature. He would probably hold a grudge – briefly, maybe a week – if the Youko went too far in anything, but eventually Kurama in his human form would be forgiven. The Youko was the Youko, after-all, and was not only unpredictable but somewhat flagrant; no one could effectively hold a grudge on Shuiichi Minamino for something that was ingrained in the nature of a creature of seduction.

Slowly Kurama’s golden eyes wandered around the room before coming to rest upon the pathetic excuse for a youko lying on the cot before them; his gaze narrowed, his ears flipped back, his tail thumped the table twice.

"Hn." Hiei made that thick little sound in the back of his throat that delighted Kurama to no end, yet what he murmured next completely ruined the mood of any seductive thrill the youko may have harbored. "What is it that you detest so much?"

Kurama sat up; he didn’t have to ask what Hiei had meant. "You wouldn’t understand." That succeeded in awarding him a withering-death-glare from the irritable fire-demon. "Well – look at him!"

Those smoldering crimson eyes leveled upon the young boy for a moment, then lifted back to return his gaze, uncomprehending the way Kurama’s mind was currently working.

So Kurama sighed and decided to be patient. "Look, baby, it’s like this. A youko’s pride – all his honor, all his worth, all his everything, is based primarily on his looks." The moody little fire-demon muttered something beneath his breath that even the Youko’s keen sense of hearing couldn’t detect; ignoring this, he went on. "That – thing – down there has one ear ripped along the side, the other pierced not once but three times, all his hair has been cut so short its practically unsuitable, and Inari only knows what happened to that scrap that he must call a tail!"

A few moments of silence passed between them before Hiei spoke again, yet when he did speak it made Kurama’s ears droop in shame. ". . . that would bother a true youko. Now what’s the real reason?"

. . . the real reason? Did Kurama actually dare to tell him the Real Reason as to why he felt a minor surge of anger at the sight of the creature that claimed itself to be his brother? Did he actually dare to tell Hiei the truth – that it wasn’t really anger he felt, shifting restlessly within his gut – but a certain tint of shame and discomfiture that he had never known before as the notorious Youko?

The truth was... he opened his mouth to speak – his ears flickered briefly before lying at half-back. "That is the real reason. The creature’s hideous, and I don’t want to have anything to do with it."... he couldn’t do it. Another lie to cover the first. Guilt tugged at his heart, yet the silver youko studiously ignored it.

He stared down, instead, upon the creature in question, his amber gaze taking in every minor detail. Yukina had Healed the creature’s wounds and now he lay upon his back, oblivious to the world. He had a smooth, youthful face that looked entirely too sad when in such sleep. His hair practically shimmered beneath the light in variant shades and colors of pale grin – sometimes appearing silver, sometimes appearing ice-green, but mostly appearing some pearl-like shade in between the two. With such hair and fur he would indeed have been a very striking youko – perhaps even more beautiful than Youko Kurama – had his hair still been long. Kurama had lied of his reasons but not of a youko’s sense of honor in beauty; the creature before him had been disgraced – either that or he had disgraced himself – when his mane had been cut. And not just cut but crudely chopped off; the length varied from one to two inches long, with no seeming reason or pattern. His tail – which lay a little to the side – was in the same manner, chopped up so crudely that it rather resembled a sprouting of velvety feathers, instead of long, silken fur. He was slim – no, more than slim; the child was skinny, perhaps half-starved – and the some-what overly-large, tattered clothes he wore were a motched array of stains ranging from grass to dirt to oil to blood that it was practically impossible to tell what their original color or shade had been. There was a cord of teargems wrapped around his throat three times, as well as another, longer chain wrapped almost haphazardly around his left arm. Upon his left ear hung two small hoops – a silver and a gold – and in between them a tiny chain from which dangled yet another teargem, this one off-set from the rest, shimmering a pale, lilac purple.

Yes, Kurama remembered that shade of fur – although vaguely. He could only remember encountering this youko before, although he didn’t bother to search his memories to find out why. The stupid creature would wake up soon enough; Kurama didn’t want to waste his time bothering over him when he had Hiei sitting right next to him. "Hey, baby." He purred, mentally preparing for the blow he knew would come as he rubbed up against Hiei’s side and leaned closer to nip at the lobe of the fire-demon’s ear. "You sure you don’t wanna have just a little fun?"

This time he grinned as he hit the floor, his tail swishing across his thighs, his golden eyes shimmering a darker, husky amber tone that positively radiated the brief surge of masochistic delight he felt flare within his soul to meet the fire-demon’s as yet unspoken challenge.

He couldn’t – move – for a moment. His concentration was broken – shattered – disjointed and – confused. Where was he? Who... noises. He could hear low, even rumbling sounds that echoed back and forth, each somewhat individual in comparison to another. And there was – light? – but, tainted somehow. Pale, soft light that soothed the pain in his spine and in his heart. Why did his heart hurt so much? Had he failed? What... what had he been ordered to do again? He couldn’t... remember. He knew they would come back to him soon, though – they always did, his memories. He just needed to have patience. Which wasn’t too hard to have, considering he didn’t feel like moving, and didn’t exactly feel the need to be anywhere at the moment.

He focused inward, checking his ki and reviewing a few minor spells that he found shifting in his thoughts. For some reason there wasn’t as much strength and energy in his ki as there should have been; he must have used the Silent Thunder. No... there were no lingering traces of a depth headache like there should have been if he had. He couldn’t have used... he dug into the blanking gaps of his memories and drew up crystallized shards that reflected scenes of a small boy with spiky-black hair marred by a white star-burst. Setting these aside to analyze later, he dug deeper and found what he was looking for; one fragmented piece of spiritual glass that reflected the sight of roiling thunder clouds, miniscule sparks igniting randomly throughout the scene, and pulses of lightning coiled around his left arm. Shimatta... he hadn’t meant to do that. He shouldn’t have. He knew even when he gathered the Power that he wouldn’t have been able to loose the Lightning. Not with the... constraints? Yes, he was constrained – he remembered that now. There were wards holding his power – and his being – in check. Why? Something to do with Leina...

But why had he used the Lightning if he knew the wards would make it backlash? He must not have been thinking correctly – that was the only solution. He had been furious. Why? He dug around in his memories again and tugged free another slice of view, staring down at the sight of a red-haired ningen wielding a whip made of vine. His gaze narrowed as he contemplated this creature. It seemed vaguely familiar, yes, but why? He had never seen the creature before the encounter a few hours ago. What had made him so angry as to try and kill him?

His brow drew forward in a frown as the rumbling sounds grew more condensed, more understandable, as his outer mind began awakening, his body returning once more to awareness. His ears flickered uncomfortably at the touch of the voices the mini-rolls of thunder morphed into; they were speaking, not loud, but speaking none-the-less, and that discomfited his ears...

"I wonder what class he is. You got any idea, Hiei?"

"Hn."

"I’ll take that as a no."

"Hey, Yuusuke, come here."

"What?"

"That kid they brought in. Why does he seem... broken?"

"Broken? What are you talking about, Kuwabara?"

"Can’t you feel it? Something about his ki. Or maybe his soul. Or... maybe both. His aura’s distorted, and it just feels... wrong. It’s like he’s – broken, or something."

". . . hey, Kurama, come here."

That name... a dagger of fury pierced his heart and zipped in painful shocks along his spine as he suddenly remembered exactly why that ningen had looked familiar – and why he had used the Forbidden Lightning in an attempt to practically over-kill the silver youko his True Vision spell had unveiled.

"What’s wrong, Yuusuke?"

That voice... so deep, so calm, so self-possessed. He hated that voice. He hated that creature – with all his heart, with all his soul, with all his power left to hate beyond despair...

"Nothing. But look at the kid. Kuwabara says he looks broken."

"Broken?" the voice snorted. He gathered his fury and anger, condensing it into one main source that cleared his mind and brought a tingling rush of feeling back to his body, throwing him into consciousness with a force that rivaled that of his Power. "I don’t think –"

"DIE!!" He howled, his silver eyes snapping open as he hurled himself at the creation that had spawned such detestable feelings within his body. His hands wrapped around that pale, slim throat as the force of his momentum threw the silver youko against the wall; they both fell in a heap on the floor as he snarled and tightened his grip. The creature began choking and gasping, clutching at his hands and trying to pry them away but it was no use; his fury was too great, his pain too immense, to let the creature get away now. Not now, after so long...

Shouts of shock, anger, followed him yet he heard them not, nor registered at first the hands struggling to yank him back. He held tight to his prize, his crazed mind disregarding the fact and sight of long, feathery silver hair becoming streaked and stained with short bursts of golden, orange, pink, then finally blood red as beneath his hands the soft skin grew a half-shade darker. Silver youko ears faded and disappeared; the neck grew smaller by merely fractions, yet still the creature choked and cried out; he snarled and forced his hands to close tighter, jerking up to slam the now red-haired ningen’s head against the wall. Once, twice – then the shouts from the other creatures within the room reached his consciousness as they echoed right within his ear. Something tugged roughly at his clothes, his shoulders, his arms, trying to drag him away from his victim. They were, in fact, fighting more valiantly to save the human than the human was in trying to save himself. He thrashed a little beneath the pearl-green youko, yet mainly centered his focus upon the hands wrapped around his neck, letting free a few coughing gasps or feeble cries. He could have very easily fought back and freed himself by force; the silver youko was that much taller, and unquestionably stronger than he. Why... a timid voice whispered in the back of his mind, as in the fore the fury caused his body to jerk away from the hands trying to pull him away. He once again redoubled his efforts. Why doesn’t he fight me... and then the answer came to him, and he knew, even as that timid place within his mind faltered back upon its tail with the depth of its shock. He doesn’t because... he doesn’t wish to hurt me.

"NO!!" he snarled as someone gripped his arms and tugged hard upon him; his hands slipped loose of their grasp. His left grabbed a hold of a fistful of clothing as well as hair as he battled to drag himself back to the creature; his right lashed forward, slapping and clawing the creature first before tightening into a fist and slugging him out. "DIE, DAMN YOU!!" One arm wrapped around his throat as others grabbed at his waist and shoulders, yanking again. He floundered for a hold on the creature, yet cloth and hair alike somehow managed to slip through his grasp. With one last heave he clawed at the red-haired human, howling his frustration in a bellow of rage; his fist wrapped around something small and hard. As he was jerked back some link snapped and the charm came free, gripped tightly within his hand, unnoticed, as the object of his blood-lust fell away from his claws. The hands plucked him from his victim with enough force to send all three of them tumbling back to the ground. In response to his anger and the surge of chaos, the pattern of teargems around his throat and arm blazed violently, striking out against him as well as the humans restraining him. With muffled shouts they released him and fell back; he snarled and lashed out, causing the two figures to hurriedly leap even farther away, each with at least one claw mark if not three.

He whirled back to finish what he had begun, yet was slammed back to the floor; his silver eyes narrowed first upon the blade set just below his chin, then upon the small black boot set firmly upon his chest. Up... past a black cloak, a white scarf, to the face of the child-demon with the spiky black hair and the blood red eyes. That fierce, muted gaze that at once seemed so devoid of emotion yet so baring in its weight settled upon him, stilling his struggles, silencing his roar, forcing his anger to take a pace back upon itself. And then the words portrayed within the eyes were voiced in a deep, thrumming baritone – the very incarnation of thunder itself. "That’s enough."

"Kurama!" Yuusuke – who had by now leapt to his feet again and was facing the rabid youko-boy with the vibrant blow glow of his rei gun focused upon the creature’s chest, gratefully let Hiei take over and rushed to the red-head’s side. Kurama had pushed himself to his hands and knees and was coughing violently, battling to take in heaving gasps of air into his lungs as he delicately touched the bruising flesh of his throat. He grimaced, trying unsuccessfully to recover from the lightning-fast – however brief – ordeal he had just undergone as Yuusuke kneeled by his side to support him and help him sit up. "Daijoubou, Kurama?"

Hiei’s crimson eyes lay leveled upon the boy held firmly to the ground with merely the threat of his blade and the weight of his stare. Rabid, the kitsune creature had been, yes, yet for the physical attack he had just let loose upon, he was remarkably composed. Not a single labored pant left his lips; he lay beneath Hiei’s blade breathing evenly, his pale eyes calm, furious, defiant, and daring. A shimmer of silver farther down caught the fire-demon’s glance; he frowned, leaning down just enough to snatch the black teargem necklace from the young boy’s hand so quickly and so smoothly that none of the others noticed. The pearl-green youko’s eyes narrowed in a thinly veiled mark of hatred; Hiei stared back, undaunted.

"Ne, Hiei..." the red-headed ningen Kurama had become gasped hoarsely, wheezing a little as he reached out to tug lightly at one black-cloaked sleeve. "Don’t hurt him. He didn’t mean –" He began coughing violently again, unable to continue for a moment. "Let him up."

Hiei said nothing as he lifted the blade straight from the creature’s throat. Slowly – so as to let the boy know it was against his own better judgement – he lifted his foot and stepped back. The pearl-green youko slid away from him and pushed himself up to sit, spitting curses in at least three different demonic languages.

"Oi, listen here you worthless little prick –" Yuusuke snapped, "You better watch your step! He didn’t have to let you live in the first place. It’s just that Kurama’s such a forgiving guy –"

"I take it back. Hiei, slice his head off."

"That you’re even still in one piece. You –" Yuusuke – belatedly – realized that the voice which had interrupted him own was deeper than Kurama’s voice and came from right beside him; he started at the sight of Youko Kurama now sitting calmly – if somewhat grudgingly – by his side. The Youko glanced pointedly at Yuusuke’s hand, which still lay upon his shoulder. Yuusuke jerked his hand back and mumbled the best sort of apology he could come up with at the moment, with his thoughts stunned by the once again abrupt transition of Shuiichi to Youko.

"Well?" the Youko demanded harshly, his golden eyes skimming over the youko-boy entirely to settle upon the diminutive fire-demon leaning against the table. "What are you waiting for? Kill him!"

The boy-creature’s answer to that was a second snarling curse as he coiled to leap forward – yet both action and sound were strangled short as the door to the room opened. The small, delicate maiden came walking through, her dark eyes concentrating upon her task as she carried a small tray in to set upon the floor between him and Kurama, some-what off to the side. Seemingly oblivious to the uncomfortable silence that commenced, she looked up and burst into a smile that could make even the most cold-hearted demon melt on contact. "Oh! You are awake! Here, you must be starving. I have fixed tea and rice."

After another long, tense moment of silence, the green youko set a death glare upon the others gathered. He reached out and took the bowl of rice from the tray, daring any of them to even open their mouths to protest as he shifted closer to the koorime maiden. He would not let them try to harm her again, and he wanted that fact perfectly clear...

"Yu-Yukina-san –" Kuwabara choked helplessly, his hands reaching out and clasping air as he battled the urge not to leap forward and snatch her from the boy-demon’s length of grasp. Although he alone was stunned, the others were watching the strange youko with wary distrust in their gazes, until the self-proclaimed ‘leader’ took it upon himself to – well, lead.

"Alright, you!" Yuusuke plopped down to sit directly across from the pearl-green youko and crossed his arms, his back ramrod straight. "Who the hell are you and what’s the big idea creating all this trouble here?"

"None of your da-" his gaze flickered to the ice maiden briefly. "None of your – business!"

"Oh, do not be frightened!" Yukina smiled beautifully again as he began eating the rice once more. The disgruntled glare – although accidentally settled upon her at her naïve comment – that he sent went by unnoticed. "Yuusuke-san and Kuwabara-chan only want to help you."

He wasn’t frightened. And he didn’t need help. He let a deep growl curl thickly within his chest as the one called Yuusuke – the smaller of the two ningens he had encountered in the street – continued to stare at him, silently demanding the answer he refused to give. The pearl-green youko let his gaze slip to meet that cold, calculating glare of the other; he snarled. "I want that bastard dead!"

"Kurama-san?" Yukina – who, at the moment, seemed the only one likely to get him to answer – glanced at the silver youko in confusion. "But... Kurama-san is very nice and very kind."

"Bullsh –" another quick glance, another stumbling correction. "– fart! He’s a selfish, vain, pathetic excuse for a creature!"

"Hn." Hiei showed a bit of fang in a grim smirk. "He got two right."

Youko Kurama sent him his own impression of a death glare and stubbornly remained silent, his silky tail thumping the floor loudly as he brooded in silence, unwilling – for the moment – to rise against the verbal attack leveled upon his being.

"What’s your name?" Yuusuke barked; the green youko’s ears twitched. His returning snarl almost – almost – hid the painful wince at the sound of the human’s voice.

Yukina was quite obviously waiting for the answer as well; the youko-boy glanced uneasily at her before he bowed his head, the short scraps of his pearl-green hair slipping down to hide his gaze as a slow, red flush of embarrassment touched his cheeks. He mumbled something practically inaudible before burying himself in his bowl again; Yukina cried out in delight. "What a beautiful name!"

Yuusuke waited tensely to hear it, yet when the ice-maiden made it clear that she had no conscious intentions of uttering the name loud enough for the others, he cleared his throat. "Yukina... what was it?"

"Hm?" Wide crimson eyes lifted in surprise. "Oh, Yuusuke-san. His name is Shenjin."

A low, fettered growl was the first to answer her reply; Youko Kurama continued to brood, tenderly rubbing the dark violet-black tint to his neck as he glared daggers of ice and death at the pearl-green youko. The gaze was returned hate for hate, prompting the next question.

"Oi, and what’s up with you and Kurama, anyway? Are you really his brother?"

"No!" Kurama snarled; Shenjin snarled back.

"Of course you’d deny it, you freak!" the younger of the two youkos bristled, baring his fangs. "She said you were going to help us but I knew you wouldn’t cause you don’t have anything but a block of ice in your chest in place of a heart. I tried for years to convince her you were dead – you never existed – that you two had never met but no – she still treasured those memories of you. If she even suspected what I knew to be true all along – that all you are is a weak, spine-less scrap of dog-curd –"

"Woa, woa, woa!" Yuusuke shouted for silence and glanced in wary panic to see if he would have to constrain Kurama, who looked about ready to rip Shenjin to shreds – innocent Yukina looking on or not. "That’s enough!"... gradually silence once again reigned supreme... "Now what the hell are you talking about? ‘She’ who?"

"None of your –" this time the dark crimson eyes that bored into his silver gaze were masked and unreadable – come from the half-breed where he stood silent and immobile to the side. The half-breed – his mission – the sight of the diminutive demon alone was enough of a reminder to send a breath of panic racing along his spine. Leina. He had to get the demon half-breed back to the Master in two more days or... "Her name’s Leina." He muttered thickly. "She’s –" a withering glared at Kurama, "– my sister."

"Okay, fine. Good enough." Yuusuke sighed, beginning to relax for the first time in this whole bizarre encounter as he reached back to rub the ache in his neck. "Now what are you doing here? And why did you try to kidnap Hiei?"

He bit back against yet another discomfited growl and shifted. One cool, tiny hand reached down to gasp his; Yukina smiled to him gently, urging him to speak, to tell them. He did. Haltingly, and in a few words as possible. "The Master ordered me to kidnap the half-breed and another koorime." There. He had done it. Now they had to leave him alone...

"What’s that thing around your arm?" Yuusuke jerked his chin up to indicate the hand Yukina was currently holding. The string of teargems glittered mutely from where they lay against the smooth tan of his flesh; Shenjin sent his gaze back to the half-breed. Sure enough, there, mostly Healed by the demon’s own metabolism, was a dark, bruised looking shadow across his left cheek, highlighted by a few scratches. Shenjin had back-slapped the creature before, mainly to drive him to his knees without harming him vitally. The teargems wrapped around the back of his hand had left those marks, which the fire-demon had refused to have Healed by the maiden.

Shenjin turned his hand within the ice maiden’s grip so her fingers no longer brushed against the string of youko hair and gems, but his bare palm. He didn’t want her to feel the pain that practically radiated from each and every teargem, shed – each one – by a different young koorime just like herself. Such pain... plagued his thoughts and spurned his emotions to almost insanity at times; he could hear them, sometimes, the maidens weeping and calling out, sometimes raging and spitting curses, their voices echoing in the lonely cages where they had been left. The residual traces of their sadness, their hopelessness, echoed now instead within the gems. What were they? Torture. Pain. Agony. Despair. A world without hope. The destruction of beauty.

And he had been about to submit Yukina to such treatment...

Unfortunately, the movement of his hand did not go by unnoticed by the two who would be most affected; Hiei – who looked positively murderous – and Kuwabara – who had the decency to look heart-broken and near tears as he continued to gape, his fists clenching around air.

"They’re wards." Shenjin muttered, refusing to meet any gaze that lay settled upon him at the moment. "Made from the tears of the koorime, and from youko hair. They restrict my powers and keep me chained to the Master, to keep me controlled."

"Like a collar." Kurama snorted disdainfully. Shenjin bared his fangs and lifted his head to retort, yet the silvery gaze of the opposing youko was settled upon Yuusuke; his disdain was not for the younger creature, but for the Master, who had restrained such a being with such a distasteful device.

Yuusuke contemplated this for a moment before murmuring quietly, "And why do you do what this master orders you to?" His dark brown eyes narrowed. "And don’t tell me it’s because of those wards. If something’s wrong... maybe we can help you."

"I don’t need your help!" he barked back, his hand reflexively gripping Yukina’s. "All I need is that half-breed!"

Hiei snarled a curse and began to pull his katana; Yuusuke grabbed his shirt and managed to halt the awkwardly slow stalk the fire-demon engaged within. That spell must really have gotten to him; otherwise, the strange youko would have been gutted and decapitated by now – not only seconds away. Which spurned the next question. "What kind of spell did you put on Hiei and Kurama?"

Shenjin snorted. "The half-breed got a Shadow Spell. His shadow absorbs not only his ki but any extra energy – physical, mental, spiritual, whatever – that he may have, excluding what he needs to survive and walk around." Indeed; Yuusuke sent a wary glance to the fire-demon, who was already panting lightly – from the force of his anger? Or the energy it took to remain standing instead of sitting? – tiny beads of sweat gathering on his upper lip. He wiped these away with a second muffled growl, shook Yuusuke’s grip from his shirt, and turned to sit upon the table once more.

"How long will it last?"

Shenjin shrugged. "A week. Maybe more, maybe less. It weakens a little more every day, but he won’t reach his full speed or capacity for at least five more days. Even so, it might take another month or two for him to reach the full amount of stamina he had before." He appeared a bit smug at his declaration; Hiei cursed another snarl and fingered the hilt of his blade, too exhausted to take it farther than that; Yuusuke didn’t know whether to be frightened of such a powerful spell or relieved that it had been put upon Hiei. Had the fire-demon been at full max and energy... well, both Kurama as well as Shenjin would have been dead long ago. Kurama for the accidental almost-harm of Yukina, and Shenjin just for being alive and daring to try and kidnap him.

"Okay, well what about Kurama? What’d you do to him?"

Shenjin snorted again. "I only forced him to shed the mask he dares to hide behind like the coward he is."

Antagonizing little bastard, isn’t he? Yuusuke thought vaguely as he struggled then to hold Kurama back from decking the boy. "What’s the details and length on that?"

"He can’t use his power, either." Oh, yes, that was definitely smugness in his voice now; no doubt about it. "Not unless he’s in his human form. The only time he’ll be in human form is if he’s greatly harmed, killed, suffers extreme emotion or –" he bared his fangs in a dangerous, feral grin, his ears flickering before lying at a tight half-back in contempt. "Completely taken by surprise."

"How long?"

Another shrug. "A week. The spell doesn’t absorb his power like the Shadow Spell; it just locks it away so it can’t be used. So it won’t take him nearly as long to recover as it will the half-breed." Yes, and there was true regret in his voice at that thought. Geez, he must really hate the silver youko.

"Kisama!" Hiei growled deeply. "Don’t call me half-breed!"

"Shenjin..." Yukina touched his hand again, drawing his attention as he gathered his voice to yell back. Her dark crimson eyes were wide and compassion, her voice gentle as she murmured, "You were going to kidnap Hiei to save your sister, weren’t you?"

Silence... darkness... a cold touch of ice and pain that seeped into his heart and burrowed deep within his soul. It was an unwelcome reminder... at last Shenjin’s silver gaze dropped within that sadness, within that pain. He couldn’t face that innocence – that beauty that he almost shattered – any longer. "Yes."

A small, cool hand lifted to brush a lock of his pearl-green hair from his eyes. "Tell me."

He bit back against the whimper in his throat and the slight pooling of tears within his eyes. All others within the room were forgotten as he thought of his sister – of Leina – so like Yukina, still somehow innocent and naïve despite their lives. The ice maiden deserved to know why her life, her innocence, and her beauty had nearly been stolen from her. She deserved to know what almost made him harm her. And he... he needed to tell someone.

And so... lowering his head to hide the tears within his eyes... he told her.

Part Four: The Stolen Thief
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