A little more shonen ai in this one than the last part, not much tho. ^^;; just a little bit of charisma between our boy Shenjin and a thief. Oh, yeah, and a little more of Youko Kurama acting like a spoiled brat. ^_^ I couldn't help myself...

Oh, and for those of you who are waiting for Shenjin to take a bath... (*evil grins*) hehehe... next part, promise.

Ja!
~ Guardian ~

There wasn’t much to tell, really, aside from the numerous beatings, threats, wounds, nightmares, and looks of unveiled lust practically radiated by the Master’s guards and servants upon the sight of Shenjin and his sister. He didn’t want to tell them of these instances, though; he didn’t want the ice maiden to hear of such horrible things, and he didn’t want the pity that inevitably came from others. For years he had survived – on his own, and protecting Leina. He didn’t need someone else’s misplaced sadness or pity for his condition or stance.

But the beginning... – brief flickers of warmth, of light, but mostly cold, mostly shadows, mostly loneliness, no sound, no voice, only tiny whimpers from Others, from Others that were no more than shadows, tiny, cool flesh beneath his fangs, one by one the shadows, gone, one last, one softer, smaller than the rest, hunger, cold, so very cold, tiny hands reaching out, fangs touching flesh, a breathless whimper, shame –... no. No, there was no beginning of life for him. It wasn’t worth remembering. Past that, when life was easier, before the renewal of pain, before the Master and his dungeons...

There had been – laughter, sunlight, Leina, grass flowing beneath paws, still small, tiny violet paws, flashing, sparkling beneath the light, at his side, Leina, a tiny bundle of soft, silken purple-sheened fur leaping and tussling, the colors of his fur mingling with her own, Leina – a moment of happiness, nothing more. No, past that. Past the happiness, the joy, the childhood, brief and fragmented though it had been. After that, when – loud voices, raucous, uneven laughter, huge hands reaching down, touching him, tears, Leina, whimpering crying, frightened, Himself, growling, fighting back; had to protect – to protect – His sister, voice of Another, deep, even, melodious and soothing to His ear – familiar, so familiar – yet no words of kindness, only laughter, cruel laughter, sparks of pain across His arm, His chest, Leina crying out, calling His name, asking if... – the fury arose, burning bright and ferocious within his heart. That had been the beginning. Then, that very day, had been the beginning.

His silver eyes opened and lifted to glare in slitted sight at the silver youko, at – his brother – who, in his spirit form, had such a deep, soothing voice that bordered upon being down-right seductive with each word uttered. He remembered that voice. He hated that voice.

But the maiden was sitting by his side, her cool hand pressed into his palm, her dark crimson eyes settled upon his face, waiting for his reply, waiting to hear the baring of his memories. He wouldn’t tell her all, only what he was willing to reveal. Only what he was willing to tell.

He closed his eyes again and immediately remembered – being handed over, one person, another, another, Leina tight against His side, large, fearful gaze meeting His own time and again, shivering beneath a cart as beyond it rained, Leina pressed against His side, neither willing nor daring to try and gnaw through the thick, coiled ropes wrapped around their throats, tying them like cattle to the cart’s spine, passed over from one person, to another, to another, being fondled, touched, harmed, forced to work, forced to do bar-serving as above upon a stage, tied to a spike in the floor, Leina was forced to sing – the only beauty in all the world in youth – handed from another hand to another and another – Slave – "you’re only a slave, boy; act like one" – Slave – "watch it, cur, before I decide better of letting your sister remain chaste in this whorehouse" – Slave – "move it! Worthless slaves, always getting in the damn way" – handed over one last time, to a creature, tall, unbelievably so, for He was still so small, Leina a tiny bundle of fur by His hip, one last pair of hands, unusually soft hands, caressing His cheek, lifting His chin, inspecting Him, hands roving over His body, checking for disease, fondling Him, appraising His muscles, His lean figure, His – "beautiful. So very beautiful" – fur, a change of coin from one palm to another, taken away, moved, taken Somewhere, His ear – pierced – Leina’s ear – pierced – Marked, claimed, like a bit of cur flesh; His hair, His tail – "cut it all. He doesn’t need it anymore" – Leina’s mane, her beautiful hair and tail – Gone – taken to the darkness, to the dungeons, shackled, buried within the shadows, buried alive, so familiar, so similar to – Before the Happiness – only one life, only one light, fickle and pale, Leina, by His side, so very frightened, so very desolate within the shadows...

"I was a slave when I was very young. The Master bought me one day, and took Leina, too. He cut our hair to make these." He lifted his arm, indicating the wards woven of silken hair and crystal tears, his voice neutral, clinical, almost monotone as he formally recited only what he was willing to reveal of his past. "I grew up there, in his dungeons."... Years passing, the shadows never moving, never fading, food coming everyday, only one serving, most of His going to Leina, to help her survive, hours sitting by her side as she grew sick, as the light of her ki flickered and grew weaker, taken from the dungeons, placed in the light for the first time in years, in forever, using His Power, His lightning, as the Master watched on, judged His ability, judged His strength, taken back down to the dungeons, mane and tail cut again, years passing, Leina growing stronger, Himself thinner and weaker, each balancing the other out, the Master coming to Him, forcing Him to eat, beating Him, fondling Him, sending Him out on a – Mission...

"He sent me out regularly to get things for him. Sometimes it was simple stuff – steal a crystal, gather a certain rare plant, kill a certain demon. Every time he sent me out he put these wards on. I wasn’t allowed to do anything more than what I was ordered. The only power I was allowed to wield was the Shadow Spell, the Truth Spell, and the Spell of Elineieh. Sometimes, he sent me out to bring him a new slave or concubine. My orders were only to go out and find someone weak, and I did. I did, because he threatened her. I couldn’t just leave her there to die, as the others had." Tears gathered in his eyes again, yet he held them back. He hadn’t cried since... since... "He promised she wouldn’t be harmed. She wouldn’t be used or – taken – if I did what I was supposed to do."

"How did you know he was telling the truth?"

The voice came from somewhere, but he didn’t bother to try and figure out which of the humans had said it. He didn’t care. "I knew. She wouldn’t have told me, but she would have asked me to make it better. She never asked. I kept a close eye on her mane and tail but there was no fading, no discoloration, no variance. He kept his word, for whatever it was worth."

"Her mane and...?"

That voice replied, offering information, so calm, so deep, in the silence that followed. "It’s a mechanism of defense. Most youkos, when subjected to rape or extreme sexual abuse will lose the luster and shine to their fur. That’s why so many are promiscuous; what is given freely won’t subtract from their beauty."

"That’s warped."

"That’s youko."

"Go on. So your master ordered you to do these things or he’d hurt your sister..."

"And I did." Days, nights, endless months, tracking down creatures that had been requested, freezing in temperatures not meant for His flesh to gather a handful of specific flowers in hands He could not longer feel, blood slipping down His wrist as eyes grew wide in terror at the sight of Him, of His blade imbedded in their gullet..."I found every slave, gathered every plant, killed every demon, according to his words." Hundreds of years passing, one, two – three? He couldn’t remember anymore – always the same, every few months taken out to use His power, to drain His ki, every few alternate months sent on another errand to give another death, gather another poison, capture another slave, Leina trusting Him, staying by His side, both of them losing their hair, their tails, just when they grew long and beautiful again –

"There’s nothing more to tell than that." The beatings, the threats, the wounds, the laughter of the guards as they toyed with Him, whipped Him, beat Him, fondled Him – everything but the finality of rape – the hours He spent threatening, fighting back as they tried to reach for Leina, as the Master watched, Himself snarling, yelling at the Master – "your word stands! She is not to be harmed! Damn you, your word stands!" – being shocked into stillness as the Master rose, called the guards off, caressed the turn of Leina’s cheek as He snarled and fought to protect her, the Master’s words then – "leave the girl alone. He did indeed give his word, and I for one shall not allow such crude beasts as you to mar it. Leave the female. Do what you will with him. Just remember that he is not to be used for candy favors. I want his fur to remain beautiful" – being beaten twice as hard, fondled, licked, thrown back into the dungeon, barely breathing, barely in life as Leina shifted in her sleep and curled up against His chest, her tiny hand lifting to curl around the nape of His neck, her fingers worrying at one of the short, ragged locks that lay there as she buried her face in His chest, murmuring, humming that enchanting melody, within her sleep.

"He kept others hidden from us, his slaves, his concubines, his other youkos and his koorimei, but sometimes you could still hear them." They would cry out, scream, beg for mercy, for forgiveness from gods that had forgotten their existence... He drew Leina closer as the sounds reached His ears, wishing there was some way He could stop them from reaching her; His ears flickering at the short bursts of sound, all faint, some more harsh than others, where before there had only been silence and the soft, tender sound of Leina’s voice. Months would pass with nothing more than the silence and her voice, even the talk of the guards when they chanced to come down was rare, even through the beatings there was silence, and now, now the sounds of voices piercing His tender ears hurt, the sound of language and words coming from another – a strange another – was awkward.

"His current koorimei captives must have died off. They do that one in a while. He ordered me to bring him another, and to bring him a half-breed that was both fire-demon as well as koorime, one that cries black tears." He stared down at the ice maiden – Yukina – where her palm lay pressed within his. "I am doing as the Master bid."

Plink. He started, jerked from the depth of his memories by the quiet, crystalline sound that echoed around the room by his side. There was another – plink – and then another – plink – before he glanced up in shock to see the little maiden crying, her tears trickling down her cheeks to drop and connect as beautiful, shimmering teargems upon the floor. She tried valiantly to hold them back but she didn’t have so much control as Shenjin, nor as much experience in doing so.

"That’s h-horrible." She cried softly, looking first up to him before her gaze lifted to Yuusuke, to Kuwabara, to Youko Kurama... and then at final and last the diminutive fire demon still sitting upon the table. Of them all he seemed the least affected by both the tale as well as her tears, although he did stiffen when she looked up. Before a word could be uttered by any of the others Yukina stumbled to feet and ran to him. She grabbed two small fistfuls of his black shirt and leaned into him – he was perched precariously on the table-ledge such that at her simple motion he slipped the rest of the way off awkwardly, his feet touching ground as he faltered. She pressed her face into his shoulder and wrapped her arms around him, weeping in earnest, giving forth weak, kitten-like cries as she did so.

"Yukina..." the half-breed murmured uneasily, his deep voice unusually gentle as he stood stiffly before her, his eyes wide in shock. He didn’t know what to do... he unconsciously fought the urge to draw back – to push her away as he would have anyone else – as his hands hung uselessly by his side, twitching as if he wish to hold her in the very same moment, yet not quite daring to do so.

"Th-That’s h-horrible and w-wrong." She wept softly, her voice muffled by his shoulder. "H-Hiei-san you h-have to help them!"

Shenjin stared at this sight in confusion for a moment, uncomprehending the maiden’s choice of logic. If she really wanted someone to listen to her, she should have run to the orange-haired human, who was obviously smitten by her very presence. The shorter of the two humans would have done well – even Youko Kurama would have been more considerate and more willing to concede to her will than the creature she went to first. Why would the maiden – a creature of ice and grace no less – run to the half-breed – a creature made mostly of fight and force? He wondered... and then his eyes grew wide and he leaned back at the sudden revelation that his him. One last piece to the puzzle clicked into place. Those dark, velvet red eyes the color of blood and crimson shadow that lay settled upon the maiden’s bowed head with a look of stunned fear... held the same look as which had glimmered within the maiden’s own gaze not the day before. Shenjin had surprised her and caused her a brief moment of fear when he had first approached her; that was the exact same gaze – color, tint, unease and all – that lay now settled upon her, although she appeared to be unaware of it. A fire demon he could understand would have such red eyes... but an ice-maiden? There was no possible explanation, unless they were related. Their heights, their grace, the color of their eyes and the similar emotions that each held in a single moment... the pearl-green youko sat stunned. The half-breed was the ice-maiden’s brother.

She didn’t know it, of course, for as the half-breed caught the suddenly enlightened silver to Shenjin’s eyes he sent a glare worthy of any Satan-spawn granting death for even a word spoken aloud... and Shenjin conceded, leaning back casually, saying nothing. In moments Yukina released the half-breed – much to his chastened relief – and turned her tears to Youko Kurama. One by one, each of the Reikai Tantrei were submitted to such delicate torture until Kurama himself – upon finding the maiden in his lap once again after she had apparently won over Yuusuke and Kuwabara’s vote – promised to help Shenjin and his sister be free of their pain.

At the sound of that voice promising – grudgingly and forced as it may have been – to help him and Leina, he had grown furious. He wanted to leap across the way and beat that stupid silver youko to a pulp again, wanted desperately to straggle all the life out of that pale, slim neck and tell him to stop wasting his lies on those who could no longer be taken with them. Yet even as he snarled, even as these thoughts burned across his mind, somewhere, hidden deep within his anger and fury – the tears that he had not shed in life were falling in earnest within his heart. Why... the chant was always the same, monotonous, tedious, yet so very lost, so very lonely – so very sad. Why, oh why did you have to do that to us?

Ruthlessly he shoved the thoughts of his pain away and snarled; there was no way he was going to accept help from that creature – yet Yukina collapsed in his arms next, and he came undone. He held her in vaguely the same manner as the half-breed – in a way that bespoke of desperation, panic, and guilt for having a part in creating such tears. He floundered for some sort of apology and promised her he’d be good, he wouldn’t take he – the half-breed – and he would kill Youko Kurama – for now – and if they’d just leave him alone he’d find someone else – yet her tears nearly doubled at that and he suddenly felt like a wretch.

"Please, maiden, I –" Don’t make me say it. Please, don’t make me promise to... "I can’t – no, it – the Master – you don’t understand, he – I can’t –" Oh, Inari... her small, cool hands were clasping his shirt as she wept upon his chest, and four pair of eyes were leveled upon him, threatening the most dire promises if he didn’t ease her sadness right now... He groaned inwardly, his ears twitching anxiously in discomfited defeat. "I... alright. Alright, maiden. Please stop crying." He pet her head somewhat awkwardly – he wasn’t used to petting anyone other than his sister, who not only had softer hair but two triangular ears to tease and massage.

A half hour later – once the four members of the Reikai Tantrei had gathered as much as they would for the trip – he was thinking upon the maiden’s actions, and came to one solid, undeniable conclusion.... That little wench had done it on purpose. Just before they left she gave the larger of the two ningens a wrapped batch of cookies and bid them all goodbye. Each underwent a small, gentle kiss upon the cheek – including the half-breed whose blood-red eyes grey wide in shock, and Shenjin, who was once again reminded too much of his sister and was forced to turn away so the others would not see his weakness. When he was once again able to turn back, he was surprised very little to see absolutely no traces of sadness of tears in the maiden’s eyes. In fact, with a faint blush upon her cheeks and a tiny smile upon her lips, she almost appeared pleased with herself as she gently tugged upon a lock of Youko Kurama’s silver main to bid him lean down so she could kiss his cheek as well. Had he known Yukina as long as the other members of the Tantrei, he would have been shocked into speechlessness at her almost bold manner in seeing them off; – indeed, the half-breed still had not recovered and was staring at her as if he’s just been slapped with a fly-swatter instead of given a chaste, maidenly kiss on the cheek.

He made a small, humored sound in the back of his throat, the tip of his ragged tail twitching against his thighs as he crossed his arms and contemplated the maiden smiling before them. Was that koorime evil, malicious, or spiteful? Not a chance – and he’d kill anyone who would dare to utter a word saying other. Devious? Well, now, devious was another story altogether. If she was nothing else, she was certainly that. He caught the half-breed – her brother’s – gaze as they began the trek out, and their thoughts in that moment were the same; they had both been deceived, and they knew it, yet they could take back their promise to the maiden no more than they would wish to.

They were alike, the half-breed and he. Just as Yukina and Leina were alike. Two shimmering souls of innocence and gentle benevolence... guarded, protected, and loved by their brothers, both of which kept a deadly secret in silence – hoping that those beautiful rays of hope never found out what darkness their kin lay capable of.

In that one moment, as they were descending the steps of Genkai’s temple on the way to a Gate between the human world and the demon world, Shenjin felt closer and more in tune with the half-breed – the fire-demon they called Hiei – than he did with even his own brother.

The thief was picking the pocket of a dead bandit that had dared to try and rob him when the faint shudders of a Gate hissed into life by his shoulder. He leapt out of the way abruptly and clawed his way up into the bows of a tree, settling himself there on one of the upper-most branches, his dark eyes narrowing in excited curiosity upon the sight. The air about the Gate shimmered a pale, deep purple-green just as the first figure stepped through – an astoundingly plain-looking human with unusually high traces of reikai. Second came another human – taller, broader, with a carrot-colored sprouting of hair and high traces of reikai as well. Third came a tall, proud youko – a silver youko at that; a rare breed, indeed – who glanced warily this way and that, his ears flickering. None of the three cast the bandit’s body a second glance as they stepped away from the gate; the thief was about to do likewise and leave the three there for they certainly held no more interest with him. However, just as he coiled to leap from one tree to the next, he faltered and nearly went crashing to the ground at the sight of a fourth figure coming through the Gate. This one did still at the sight of the bandit – even stepped closer to roll the body over and take a look at it, a small, intense frown upon his lips. He was a young youko, the fourth figure, with a thin, wiry figure and pale pearl-green hair that had been chopped short. His tail – upon further inspection – was hardly even that anymore, his clothes were tattered and dark with filth, his skin was shadowed here and there in places that one couldn’t be sure were either bruises or dirt stains. But his pale, silvery gaze was animated, a thousand emotions flickering within their depths as he set his palm flat upon the bandit’s waist pouch.

"He’s been robbed. No coins, no jewels, although they left a dagger." The pearl-green youko had the most entrancing voice, too – a soft, low alto voice that was almost like the soothing sound of the wind against a pair of mist-damped cliffs; the thief quirked his lip in irony and glanced down at his pouch, which now contained the bandit’s haul. He should have remembered the dagger. Silly him.

"So what?" The silver youko flared from where he stood a pace and two away, bristling, his ears flipping to lie at extreme half-back in irritation. "It’s just a bandit. You aren’t gonna weep over every single lost soul from here to the Domain, are you?"

"Not weep, brother." The pearl-green youko spat, bristling in response as the dagger he had picked up was clenched tight in his fist; the short of the two humans glanced warily from said dagger to the silver youko, unsure of what to do. "But look." The little youko turned back to the body and ripped a shred of its clothing off; he stood and lifted this shred for the others to see. "This is the ensignia of the mercenaries that border the Master’s land. If we follow his back-trail it’ll lead us as close to the Master as we can hope for right now."

"I thought you knew where the Master was." –This, from the shorter human.

"I do..." the pearl-green youko looked up and glanced around, trying to pinpoint his location within the Makai. "When I know where I am."

The silver youko snarled a curse and started forward – yet one small hand lifted to rest at his chest, stilling him in his tracks. A fifth figure had come through the Gate unnoticed by the thief; an almost dainty figure of a fire-demon dressed within the cloaks of an assassin. A pair of dark crimson eyes bored into those of the youko; without a word he backed down, frowning, his ears twitching, his tail still bristling.

Interesting... two apparently harmless humans, two kin-youko that wished to kill one another, and an unusually diminutive fire-demon assassin. Hn... maybe the thief would stay and watch for a little longer. Things could get interesting...

Kurama continued to sulk where he sat on the outer reaches of the camp Yuusuke hiked up that night, his golden eyes blazing in disgruntled anger as he glared across to the pearl-green youko that proclaimed himself to be his brother. It wasn’t true, of course – it couldn’t be true; even Yuusuke had said that the two resembled each other very little – but to be honest that wasn’t so much what was bothering the normally sedate youko/ningen. He hunched his shoulders and glowered down at the ground, giving it his best ‘move-and-you-die’ sort of glare.

That damned little pup had taken his necklace. It had taken Kurama three long, agonizing years to get close enough to Hiei to even hope that the cute little fire-demon would consider him – in any way, on any level – slightly more than a friend. Even if Hiei hadn’t intended the teargem to be a significant proclamation of his love, it still had a special meaning within Kurama’s heart. It had become the one item that he – the notorious Youko Kurama, for Inari’s sake – had fawned over and gotten giddy at the thought of like some silly little school girl. He snorted, flexing his claws and ripping viciously at the silken fur of his long tail. And now that stupid youko-curd had intruded in upon his life and taken that gift away from him.

Oh, he didn’t have it anymore – and yet that was the only solace Kurama could offer himself. He had seen – just barely and from the corner of his eye – when Hiei had snatched the necklace from the cur’s grip, so he knew it was once again in the little demon’s sole possession, but that fact also managed to dishearten him. There was no chance in hell Hiei would actually take it upon himself to give it back, no matter how much Kurama begged or pleaded – of that he was sure. The delicious little creature was too closed off and uptight. Having given the gift once and seeing it be stolen, he would either be too embarrassed – or too ticked – to give it a second time. Thus, Kurama’s childish sulking and anger were still directed at the stupid pearl-green youko, but for a much different reason than had been there before. He had taken Kurama’s treasure! Damn him to all the seven hells and back!

Kurama snarled and ripped at his own tail some more, apparently trying to untangle the non-existent knots that supposedly resided there. So intent was he upon this task and his own disgruntled anger that he didn’t notice the familiar you-ki coming closer to stand by his side.

"Oi."

He started abruptly and glanced up. Something small and warm dropped onto the silvery fur of his tail, which rested in his lap; he stared down at the perfect, flawless black teargem held encased within the tiny net of his own making, at first uncomprehending its sight and the meaning behind its suddenly appearing there. He grabbed it up in his fist lest it disappear and only then chanced the moment to look to his delicious fire demon once more. "Hiei..."

Deep, crimson eyes held his gaze, revealing nothing. "Fight back, next time." With that he turned away, gathering up the last remaining wisps of his energy to flicker up into the branches of a nearby tree. Once there he sat down, leaned against the trunk, and crossed his arms. Kurama glanced from the fire-demon back down to the black tear-gem within his hand; with a pleased, mischievous smile he brushed his main aside and fastened the necklace around his neck once more, comforted by the feel of the warm gem resting in the hollow of his throat. With a casual, almost airy toss of his hair behind his shoulder he stood to join the others by the fire, where Yuusuke was currently trying to drag more information out of the pearl-green youko.

"GYAAAHH!!!" Kuwabara howled in terror before falling upon his back in a dead faint as Shenjin appeared standing before him from out of seemingly nowhere. The pearl-green youko looked down calmly at the sedated human before slowly nudging one huge, muscled side with his bare foot in curiosity.

"That!" Yuusuke barked abruptly – Shenjin’s ears flickered in a grimace – reaching out an arm and pointing at him accusingly. "That’s what I’m talking about! You were faster than Hiei. How do you do that?"

Shenjin glanced up at the boy where he sat close to the fire, still entertaining himself with the evening dinner and meal. "That’s all you were curious about?" he asked incredulously, his ears shifting to lie at half-back in contemplation. "There’s no secret there. It’s part of the Shadow Spell. Not only can you use the shadows to subdue an enemy or threat, but also to call them so you can hide or – if need be – move you from one place to another, out of harm’s way."

"Like a teleportation device." Youko Kurama murmured, his golden eyes narrowed – not so much out of ferocity now, but interest and a vague curiosity. "You can move from one shadow to another with only a thought – thus travelling from one location to an entirely different one in seconds."

Biting back a discomfited growl – he still hated Kurama, hated his presence, and hated the sound of his voice – Shenjin nodded, conceding. "Yes. As long as you have a reasonable idea where you want to go. If you don’t..." he shrugged. "You’re lost." As simple, as easy, as dangerous as that.

"Mmm." Yuusuke nodded thoughtfully, accepting this bit of knowledge. The pearl-green youko – upon seeing the settlement of the human’s questions, if only for a time – moved back to his place, sitting beneath a tree to the side and off from the four others than had unwittingly become his companions. He crossed his arms and leaned back, watching in silence as the silver youko Kurama – his bane, his enemy, his brother – began speaking with Yuusuke, both completely ignoring the unconscious body of their friend on the other side of the fire. The half-breed himself had gained enough of his agility back to be able to leap into one of the trees at the perimeter of the hollow and was even then watching the others as he did, with burning crimson eyes that said nothing and gave no light from within.

Shenjin had been patient before in light of the human’s questions – he answered very few and gave off indecipherable grunts to most in warning to leave be alone. When Youko Kurama had returned however, the questioning had shifted from curiosity of his past life to his abilities. Shenjin answered these a bit more willingly, his silver eyes shifting from the almost secretly pleased look to his brother’s face... down to the dark black teargem which now resting about his throat once more. So... the half-breed had given it back. How civil of him. Unfortunately, Kurama wouldn’t be holding it for very long if Shenjin had any said in the matter.

For now, however, he just sat back and thought over the actions that had passed between himself and the silver youko since returning to the Makai.

The first hour had been tough going, for he hated even the feel of Kurama’s presence. Each had tossed back insults and raging words like wild-fire – Hiei and Kuwabara, who usually did such things, were actually silent in their own discordance to watch the enfolding battle between brother and brother. Yuusuke was the one who, at time and again, broke the two youkos apart. Eventually however, long after they had stepped into the world of the Makai, Shenjin grew tired of being angry all the time. He was exhausted by the extent of his fury and maintaining it for such a long time. He wasn’t used to being around anyone accepting his sister – and to hold such emotions for so long wore him out. Finally it came to the point where he, as a youko, would bear it no more.

He had been walking in the fore then, guiding the others in the general direction of the Master’s domain, and yet stopped dead-still within his tracks. The others, immediately wary on guard for the danger they assumed he had perceived, stopped behind him and prepared for some sort of attack. None came however, and all was silent... until the moment he turned to face Kurama, his ears flipping back to lay tight against his skull.

"I don’t like you." He had murmured quite rationally, his voice unduly calm for the substance of his words. "In fact, I hate you and I have for years. I don’t think I will ever forgive you for what you did. Just so you know that." His ears flickered before setting forward and perking up. "However, I am tired of being angry at you and fighting you. As long as you stay out of my way and off of my path, you may live in your own shadows as I live in mine."

Without another word he had left them, transporting from the shadow beneath his feet to one quite some ways away, up within a tree. He kept an eye upon them as Yuusuke cursed and Kurama raged; eventually they settled down and continued on their way for lack of any idea better. He had paced them evenly until the moment he felt composed enough to once again join them; at that time he transported back to a shadow a half-leap in front of Yuusuke, who had taken the lead. Yuusuke had shrieked and fallen back, but composed himself enough to follow the pearl-green youko. Many hours later – once night had fallen and they had drawn up to camp – this sudden disappearance and then reappearance had been the base of Yuusuke’s line of questioning. Which brought them up to this point... this moment... wherein Shenjin sat silently contemplating this. The anger had never truly gone away, although it was considerably less now and not nearly in the line of his total focus. It simmered in the back of his mind, an unending little flame of light, as he thought of how best to approach the Master.

His eyes opened to a slit and stared across the fire at the silver youko, his gaze settling upon the black gem. He would not accept the forced kindness these creatures gave to him for the sake of the maiden. Once all was still and the others had fallen in sleep... then, the true actions would begin.

We shall see, brother, he thought vaguely as he closed his eyes once more, pretending to dream in hopes the others would soon follow his false lead. We shall see who lives and who dies this time.

The thief bared his teeth in a grin as he bit back upon a laugh. He had been watching the pearl-essence youko for half a day now – from the very moment the group had crossed the borders from the human world to the world of the demons – and was delighted and interested by what he had seen. The creature was young, yes, but vibrant and so very alive! His anger and fury when set to the taller, silver youko had been astounding and whole-hearted. As had his calm acceptance of the human boy’s questioning. There was no half-set for that one; he hated with all his heart, was patient with all his soul, and could portray only one emotion at a time for each and all were felt with all of everything that became him. The thief’s interest had been caught immediately, and ensnared within the trap of the one they called "Shenjin" ever since.

He had been stolen – he chuckled at that thought, for he, one of the greatest thieves ever known upon any land, had been stolen by the unconscious actions of mere youko. His interest would eventually fade and he would move on – as he had so many other times – but for now he was content to watch, to listen, and to observe the group set before him.

Each of his companions were of token interest of themselves, yet none so animatedly as the one called Shenjin. It was revealed that the silver youko was indeed this Shenjin’s brother – and was in truth the famed legend Youko Kurama, greatest of the great in thievery, known still to be one of the best to ever live. Youko Kurama held the number-one dance in the thieves chain, only three paces ahead of the Chimera Kuronue. He himself lay right up there in the top five – actually, the fifth dance, to be exact – living up to the heritage of his honors lain down before him. It would be a curious thing to meet this legend Kurama... yet he shrugged that thought off as inconsistent and fickle. He would watch and nothing more, as he always had.

It was hard to remain silent, however, especially at the moment when the green youko had turned to proclaim his statement of ‘hate-and-let-live’ to his brother. He had wished to laugh and congratulate the young youko – had nearly fallen from his perch from the extent of his mirth at the sight of furious indignation causing the infamous Kurama’s tail to bristle and lift, his ears snapping back against the silver of his main as he howled for the little devil to return.

Even now, when all had grown calm and the members of the group had settled to sleep for the night, he found no lack of interest in watching them. The wards they placed had been easily passed – although he took great care to leave them intact for any other, more dangerous demons than himself who would come to harm instead of behold – and now he sat more comfortably to watch. He stretched out along the branch on which he perched and nibbled at a scrap of fruit he had stolen from a spirit-dog a few territories back as his gaze moved from one member of the travelling group to another. The pearl-green youko – who was pretending to be asleep, yet only planning his escape, obviously. The larger of the two humans – who was currently dead to the world from shock. The silver youko – who was thoughtfully staring into the fire, a look of almost-anger upon his features as he tried to sort through memories he didn’t want to remember. The smaller of the two humans – who was curling up to sleep and advising Kurama to do so as well. And finally the petite fire-demon – who appeared alert, but who in actuality had submitted to his dreams hours before from sheer exhaustion.

It would be interesting what came of this little excursion, for the group was indeed heading somewhere with a purpose set firmly in mind. Kuwabara – the larger of the humans – had inquired how exactly they proposed to get into the fortress of one called "the Master" in which to save one called "Leina," but beyond that the thief had no clue as to their purpose. He grinned ruefully. That was half the fun in watching one, though, wasn’t it? To discover what they chose to embark upon and why?

He settled back and prepared himself for sleep as well, yet snapped to awareness instantly at the sight of movement down below. The one called Shenjin was moving, slinking across the clearing in silence, his ki and presence masked as well as one could. The silver youko Kurama had fallen asleep some moments before and was sleeping peacefully, oblivious to the creature as Shenjin kneeled by his shoulder. The boy reached out and struggled briefly with something – his ears and eyes flickering up to watch the fire-demon warily as he did so. The thief leaned forward on his perch, a wide grin touching his lips as his eyes sought out and found what the pearl-green youko had taken from his brother. Perhaps he would introduce himself to these creatures, after all...

Shenjin gripped the black teargem tightly within his palm and slowly – oh so slowly – backed up a single pace and then another from the silver youko at his feet. The spell he had cast upon his brother earlier dimmed the fox-spirit’s senses, but even so there was still the slim chance that he could be caught... with another slow back-pace he glanced up to the half-breed, who had not so much as moved. The companionship between the two demons had not passed his eye, nor had the flickering glances of yearning within his brother’s gaze at times when he thought no one could possibly see. Whether each knew it or not, the silver youko was in love with the fire-demon; Shenjin had no interest in being at the sharp end of the half-breed's sword for a second time with the stolen proof of his own feelings on his person. He might not escape so easily this time, if he even escaped at all.

He had to try, though. He hated his brother, but he had no wish to see him dead – unless he himself was the one to deliver the killing blow. He also had no wish to see Kurama’s silver mane chopped short and butchered, as his own had been. When speaking of it, Kurama had told no lie; a youko’s beauty was definitely among the foremost in thought besides preservation of life, and Shenjin wished no ill to come of his brother’s grace, even, should the moment come, through the time of his death at Shenjin’s own hands. Later, he promised the fury boiling and raging inside his heart. I will kill my brother later, when there is more time. For now... I must save Leina.

He transported from a shadow at his feet with the intent of appearing outside of the wards. Unfortunately it didn’t work that way, and he found himself just at the edge of the clearing. Frowning, he tried again – only to come short, a half-leap away. Without truly pondering why, he silently crept his way farther into the woods and began to run, intent upon being free of the group that had so unwillingly promised to help him. Again the sight of the ice maiden came to mind... yet he shook that away and ran on. He couldn’t help her. At least she would not know the pain which he would have caused had he remained. She would be safe, guarded by the brother she didn’t know she had, and he would be –

He grunted and fell forward, hitting the ground hard with a grimace of pain as something heavy, blunt, and warm dug into his back. "K'so!" He cursed thickly, moving to stand up once more – yet he was shoved to the ground again as whatever – whoever – had taken residence upon the dip between his shoulders shifted. A pale, graceful hand drifted down from behind his head to gently and carefully tug the black teargem necklace from his stunned fingers; a soft, light voice laughed within his ear.

"Mm. And I thought one of such spirit would be harder to over-come."

"Kisama!" he growled, struggling to rise, yet unable to do so. "Who the hell are you?"

"My, such foul language." The weight upon his back shifted before disappearing; a small, flighty hand reached out to take his shoulder and roll him over. He blinked once, then twice, unnerved and disconcerted to find a young boy about his own apparent age kneeling above him. He was small, dainty – almost fragile-looking – with depthless violet eyes that were tinged with a pale, shadowed red color that made them seem more magenta than not. A delicate, youthful face peered back at him, framed by a ragged, sprouting water-fall of black hair, two thick black braids, and a continuing mane of hair that tumbled down the boy's shoulders, half-ensnared by silver and black threads of string and tiny flickering onyx gems. He was dressed simply in the skimpy attire that most thieves chose; a plain black vest covered his chest, while a pair of loose, silken black pants covered his thighs. The only color besides that black and the few traces of silver upon him was a startling burst of yellow fur laced in orange, which appeared as an almost blatant mark – a seeming medal of honor for the thief – sewn into the fabric of his black vest. This apparently hid the very tail of a pale whip that he had slung across his chest from his right hip to his left shoulder. On his back, just at his shoulder blades two small, leathery wrings rustled, flapping gently before shifting to fold themselves tightly against his back, framing the curve of his spine and caressing his small hips. He wore a pair of gloves that hid his palms yet left his fingers free... and entwined within those slim fingers of his right hand lay the black teargem necklace, appearing more comfortable held within the thief’s appearance than it had in even the half-breed's. The thief grinned and settled down once more, sitting upon Shenjin's lower abdomen, his knees and thighs set firmly along the pearl-green youko's side. "And you are much cuter up close!"

Shenjin gaped briefly at the creature, disconcerted by the being's demeanor and slight weight. With a muffled growl he tried vainly to snatch the teargem necklace from the thief – who laughed and nimbly held it up, leaning back to keep it out of his reach. "Give that back!"

"Why? I stole it from you fair and square."

Shenjin tried again, to no avail. "I stole it first!"

The thief laughed and pressed a hand to his chest, lightly pushing him back to the ground. In seconds he found his hands bound above his head, his legs bound similarly to keep him still before the thief sat upon him once more. "Yes, you did. And I have just taken it from you."

"You can't do that!"

The creature in black laughed merrily, his violet-red eyes shimmering with mirth. Shenjin had a wary suspicion that the mirth had danced within those eyes long before he had stolen the necklace from his brother; caution immediately took the place of most of his anger. "And why not, little fox?"

"B-because that's dishonest!" He blurted out, stumbling over his words as the vibration of the thief's laughter ran through him. Honesty among thieves was a well-known, if some-what overly-dramatic portrayal of that life-style; Shenjin hoped among hope that the phrasing held within this creature, as it so rarely did anymore in this world of demons.

This declaration only served to wring another bright, crystal-clear round of laughter. "True, honor among thieves..." the creature purred, smiling a little as if he had read the youko's previous thoughts. He stretched himself along Shenjin's body, setting his free hand by his head and leaning over him, the long black main of his hair caressing the youko's shoulder. "But, my dear little fox, I was not the one who stole the charm from the wearer in the first place." He smiled enticingly; Shenjin abruptly found it hard to breathe as those deep, magenta eyes settled upon his own, the humor within them laced with a mischievous, seductive shadow that brought an unexpected flush to his cheeks.

"Besides," the thief sat back up and brushed the black wave of his hair behind his shoulder carelessly, the mirth dancing around his lips. "I doubt I could sink so low as stealing a treasure that bore one creature's love for another from the loved one's own throat."

That shook Shenjin from his daze. "I had to!" he nearly shouted, his ire rising in defense of his actions. "That baka would never have given it to me willingly!"

"Did you ask?"

He stilled. "What?"

"I said, 'did you ask'." The thief's gaze turned thoughtful as well as humorous. "All you had to do was ask your brother for this-" he lifted the necklace, "-and explain what you were really going to do with it. I'm sure he would have been pissed and immediately said no, but given the time to think on it, he would agree in some fashion."

"That's insane! Stop trying to tell me how to go about my way!" He growled and tugged at his bound wrists; the contemplation of using the shadow spell crossed his mind but...

"I wouldn't." the creature smiled. "That only works when the victim isn't expecting it, and besides, our close proximity would ensure that both you and I would be transported to wherever you chose to go."

"Let me up!" he snarled, struggling again.

The thief grinned and sat back. Yes, the pearl-green youko was just as lively and interesting up-close as from a distance. More-so, in fact. What would happen, he wondered vaguely, if the brother was to awaken... He tilted his head and watched the youko spit and struggle beneath him, unaffected by the boy's anger at being taken and humiliated. Such crude humiliation, however, had not been the thief's plan... he sent his ki out in a wide, encompassing radius until he felt the silver fox’s essence, then – inconspicuously, of course – gave the spirit a gentle little nudge...

Kurama shifted and rolled over, a faint, pleased smile coming to his lips as he floated within the plane between being Awake and being Asleep. Unconsciously he curling in upon himself, his hand reaching up to touch the gem at the hollow of his throat. He felt around before bolting upright, his golden eyes snapping open as he searched the area around him for the necklace. Nothing. And – someone was missing...

"SHENJIN!!"

The thief nearly fell into a fit of giggling laughter at the fleeting glance of shock crossed the pearl-green youko's features. Yet when that shock fell away, a moment of sheer terror took its place, and the thief ceased to find humor at the position. Shenjin began struggling in earnest, snarling wild, unfettered curses – yet still there was a slight tremor of fear in his eyes. Across in the clearing the silver youko and his companions began to search... in an alarmingly short amount of time the search had centered upon the two and were coming closer. The thief resumed his grin and leapt to his feet.

"I shall leave you to handle this." He turned to leave; Shenjin gave a strangled cry of protest. The thief took one more step, paused, then turned back, giving a half hop-skip to tower of the prone youko's form again, his feet planted by the boy's slim hips. "Actually, I'm not that cruel." He laughed, reaching down and taking Shenjin's wrists in his grip. He jerked the boy to his feet, then abruptly turned to leave once more.

"Wait!" Shenjin snarled, yanking his wrists apart – strange, for there had been nothing there which had bound him although only moments before he had been unable to break free. He set his hand out and glared at the thief accusingly. "Give it back. Now."

The creature in black grinned; the sounds of pursuit came nearer. "Give what back?"

"You very well know what! The necklace! Give my brother's necklace back to me – now!"

Abruptly the thief leapt at him – before he could even utter a sound or stumble back, the thief's pale hand had grabbed his shirt and yanked him forward. They both tumbled ungracefully to the ground, just as Kurama – Yuusuke and Hiei at his side – burst through the brush. Shenjin blinked down in startled shock at the velvety magenta eyes settled upon his – strange, how the mirth was still there... – before stiffening and glancing up at the silver youko standing by the side.

Kurama looked down upon the pair cautiously, unsure what to think of what they had heard – and what they were seeing. The two certainly didn't coincide...

Shenjin shoved himself to his feet and glanced in a mingling of fury and terror from the black-clad thief still sprawled out gracefully along the ground, and the paler, somehow more dangerous form of his brother. "I..."

"Ch!" The thief snorted, gathering himself to stand as well before moving to brush himself off. A look of disdain mingled with irritation crossed his features as he grumped softly, "Stupid fox. I could have gotten away if it wasn't for you."

Kurama frowned. "What?"

"Hmph." The petite thief made a show of straightening his black vest and tossing his hair over his shoulder once again. "I said, if it wasn't for this stupid fox, I would have gotten away with stealing your necklace. The damnable creature caught me right when I was about to be clear and free, long-gone from this place and enjoying my fortune in a bar somewhere." He gave the group a cheeky grin as he practically – bounced – forward to a very obviously masculine Kurama to press the black teargem necklace in his slack palm. "Sorry, miss. I normally wouldn't steal from such a pretty lady, but the prize was too great."

"Lady?" the great Kuwabara Kazuma – who had just then stumbled from out the Makai forest surrounding them – looked around blankly. "Where's a lady?"

"The red-head, knot-head." The thief grumbled, biting back upon a grin as he leapt back to his original spot – some-what beside the pearl-green youko. Kurama glanced from a sniggering Yuusuke to a very unusually mild Hiei.

Shenjin frowned. "You very well know that he's a –"

Following this came a muffled oof and a soft grunt; when Kurama turned a suspicious eye back to the pair Shenjin was slightly doubled over, his arm at his waist while the thief stood beside him, his small, feathery hands clasped before him, his magenta eyes wide and round, blinking in complete and awe-inspiring innocence, a disarming smile stretched across his lips.

Kurama snorted.

"Well!" the thief whirled and began to pace before them. "Now that I have been caught at my wicked past-time, what shall you do with me?" He appeared to give this great thought as Shenjin muttered disgruntled curses beneath his breath. "I know! You could stick a lance of iron through my heart and hook me over the fire to slow-roast for the feast you shall surely have upon my death!" He thought upon this, then shook his head and resumed his pacing. "Nah, too gory.... I know! You could throw me into a raging stream of molten lava and watch as I scream in agony and burst into flames!" He halted, thought this over, shook his head. "Nah, I never liked excessive heat, anyway."

Yuusuke leaned closer to Kurama's shoulder, his tone dry enough to crack cement. "Is this guy serious?"

"I know! You could – oh, no... wait a minute, that's already been done to me." The thief brightened considerably and threw his hands up in the air, apparently exasperated. "Well, since there seems to be nothing we can think of on how to punish my wicked crime, I fear I shall have to stay with you until one is found. Very well, then – I am at your mercy!" He pressed his palms together and bowed very reverently at the group before straightening, sending a very startled and confused Shenjin a haughty look of complete and utter victory. "So, lead on, my terrible captors and let us rest for the night!" He pointed at the blocking stretch of woods directly in front of him – behind Kurama, Hiei, and the two humans – in which direction their camp lay silent in waiting. With a decisive nod to himself he set his shoulders as if beyond the reach of the leaves lay a whole battlefield of enemies with which he would single-handedly strive to defeat... and began marching forward, his dark head bowed, his gaze focused.

As he disappeared within the night, Kurama turned an accusing glare at the pearl-green youko. "Where the hell did –"

"Don't look at me!" Shenjin snarled back, his ears flickering to lie tightly against his skull in anger. "I had nothing to do with that – that thing – just showing up!"

"Hn." Hiei turned around and silently began to follow the rather – noisy – thief in returning to their campsite.

"Well... he doesn't appear to be harmful – or very strong." Yuusuke shrugged. "Come on. We'll figure out what to do with him later. If he was all that powerful the wards would have warned us, right? So we're fine. Besides... he can't cause too much trouble, can he?"