Shenjin stared longingly at the reflective pond lying quiet and inviting before him, his silver eyes entranced by the tiny, rippling waves that were created by the touching breath of the wind. His short hair was ruffled by that same breeze as he slowly – slowly – leaned closer. His ears flickered and tensed to set stiffly forward as all his focus and attention centered upon the soft, whispering sound of the water lapping against the shore and – some ways away – trickling over a few rocks and old logs. From there the water slipped down a single, uneven step at a time to create a tiny brooking stream that leader deeper into the woods, disappearing into the cave-like over-hanging of branches and trees. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply of the fresh, clean scent of the water, his ears never once easing in their strain to make sure the sounds were still there. He couldn’t sense anyone nearby... but just to be sure he sent tendrils of his ki out to sense where the four members of the Reikai Tantrei had gone to. Yuusuke and Kuwabara were apparently arguing over breakfast, Youko Kurama was off in the neighboring territory Hunting, and the half-breed... Hiei appeared to be focusing on summoning even a faint wisp of his black fire with such stubborn determination that Shenjin was held in awe. He had known when issuing the Shadow Spell that the half-breed wouldn’t take losing his Powers lightly – and he hadn’t. He wasn’t cruel or even mean to anyone – other than his steadfast silence. Most of his concentration was centered on reserving his waning energy, and forcing his Power to return. Even so... the others weren’t close enough to suspect his thoughts, or ponder where he had gone.

He stared out over the water and breathed out another trembling sigh, his gaze piteous and yearning as he watched each tiny, rippling wave move, teasing the pale, dawning rays of light that signaled the birth of mid-morning in the Makai.

A bath... when was the last time the Master had allowed him to take a bath – a real bath? A month? Maybe more?... There was no way to tell, for his memories often became foggy and distant as each loathed day went by. He plucked at the tattered flesh of his shirt, watching in a thinly veiled disgust as dry flakings of blood and dirt crumpled off in ashen sheets to flutter to the ground at his feet. He felt retched and pathetic, covered in such filth as he was, but... did he actually dare to bathe himself with others so nearby? Granted, each was at least a good, fair distance away and he would sense if they came any closer but... the thought of someone finding him sent a cold shudder of fear to tease along his spine, causing his tail to prick and grow stiff in remembered horror. When there had been others nearby before...

Abruptly he fell into a crouch, his palms splaying upon the ground as his gaze moved back to the water. His ears continued to strain and listen to the sounds of the garbling strip of brook nearby, seeking that vague, nameless comfort as his eyes caressed the water. He wanted so much to reach out, dip his hand in, and scoop a tiny wave upon himself to scrub vigorously at the grime and filth that covered his body. A slave was not meant to know cleanliness – but by Inari he had not always been a slave! And because of this he hated the feel of being covered in grime and blood. He hated to be presented in such a – disgusting – manner. His mind taunted him with memories of being able to run without fighting clothes that had grown weighted and thick with mud, and being able to move his tail freely without fear of seeing small patches of blood break free to crack upon the ground. If only he could have five minutes in the water...

He shuddered at the secondary wave of memories – thoughts of the last time he had been submerged in water – and fought back against the bile that rose in his throat. Fearfully he sent his ki out to check the others’ whereabouts again. If they came... Mutely he shook the thought away, focusing upon the sound of the brook and stream once more. The only water he need fear were the silent waters, and those couldn’t reach him here. Not yet, at least.

He leaned back, glancing around warily – not for the first time and not for the last – as he fingered the leather sash-belt dangling loosely at his waist. Five minutes. Just five minutes and he would get out and no one would be the wiser... Quickly, lest the memories or fear over-take him again, Shenjin unlaced the sash-belt, tugged his shirt over his head, slipped out of his pants, and practically fell into the water. The transition from calm, half-sane confidence to body-wracking terror was immediate and devastating; he bit his tongue so hard that the taste of salty blood filled his mouth and floated out to mingle with the cool water as he parted his lips and screamed. Yet even so his body was moving, diving down, deeper, as his mind frantically scrambled for some sort of hold in a world of listless, cold waves of nothingness. These are not silent waters – these are not silent waters – these are not – His hands reached out and grabbed ahold of a pond-branch, his right arm snaking farther to coil around it and hold himself still as he bared his teeth in pain. A silent pain... The water tugged and pulled at his hair and the scraps of his tail, caressing the velvety sprouting of fur and soothing the strain of his muscles... yet he continued to scream, until his lungs began to burn and there was nothing more he could do. Helplessly his mind gave up its hold on terror just as his body released the branch and he kicked up – faster and faster – to breach the surface gasping and floundering for air. He shook his head violently, fighting back against the ferocious memories battered at his mind, sending a spray of water droplets to let fly around him and plink back to the surface. He forcefully shook them away and opened his eyes, trying to ease the pain in his chest and the poor, battered thump of his heart beating much, much too fast. He sent out his ki to check once again for any others who were even close to being near...

No one... he wrapped his arms around himself and lowered his chin, staring down into the rippling water in a tainted mixture of shame and fear, his ears hunting out the sound of the water gurgling over the rocks and streambed. The chant within his mind became a slow, monotonous moan of sound that made him grimace and look away from the reflection of his own silver eyes – his own silver pain – staring back at him, tainted with the terror of his past and his memories. These are not silent waters.

Quickly, he began to scrub himself, picking up handfuls of dirt from the pond-floor and rubbing them along his legs and belly. Five minutes... he leaned back and dug his hands into the short, ruffled mane of his hair, shaking it out in the waves to get the crusted blood, sweat, and mud free before grabbing his tail and doing the same. Next came his – he stopped, his hand dripping soaking wet sand held an inch before his chest. His silver gaze stared down unemotionally at the long, thrice-claw scar-mark etched diagonally across his flesh, reaching down almost to his hip. The patches of sand in his palm slipped free and plopped back into the water; without bothering to rinse his hand he touched the scar, brushing his palm along it in an almost-caress, leaving ragged trails of sand crystals behind. The frown upon his lips and in his eyes grew hard, reflecting the distaste of his younger memories – the memories before the real hardships, before the slavery. Days running free with Leina, laughing, somehow even surviving... until that day when she had turned to him, her whole demeanor alight with a joy that trembled in the light of her half-ling eyes and sparkling in her soul. Her tiny hands lifting to wrap around his neck and pull him closer, the cool warmth of her breath and whispered words teasing the long locks of his hair that curled around his ear...

He snarled at the memory, an old, unwelcome pain blazing within the taut muscles of his arm. Come – let’s find him! He bristled and growled, his ears lying heavily against his skull. Yes, let’s find him so we can rip his spine out.

Gruffly he shoved these memories away as well. Grabbing up another handful of sand he began scrubbing ruthlessly at the scar on his chest as if he could make it disappear, cursing himself in a low, irritable grumble as he did so... until the moment when the stiff straining of his ears lost sight of their target, and he froze. No... His silver gaze widened in abrupt, unveiled terror as he glanced around, his ears setting up and flickering, desperate to find that faint, burbling sound of the water once more. Why couldn’t he hear it anymore? Why – trembling shudders began moving across his body, creating violent ripples that sent echoes of silence across the pond. No... There had to be a sound – these weren’t silent waters! These were not –

Flickers of light, of terror, of sights and memories best left locked away flooded his mind as he squeezed his eyes shut tighter and tried – he tried – to block them out. Memories of – fighting against the hands that held Him – screaming – no sound, none at all, why wasn’t there any – being lifted, thrown into boiling hot water that seared His flesh and made it burn – dragged out, thrown into an ice-cold vat of water next to it – dragged out, screaming, kicking – no sound, anywhere – claws, tentacles, hands and paws reaching out to caress His body, to curl in His short hair and yank ruthlessly at His tail – being dragged into the waters – The Silent Waters – held under, choking, gasping – no Air – ripped up, licked, thrown, dragged back – over and over again, never ceasing – hands, claws, tentacles all over him – laughter, silent laughter from silent faces as they threw him again in the Silent Waters –

"Oi, Shenjin..." a soft, worried voice intruded in his memories, shattering them to pieces, where they each, every single one, fell like broken glass to ring, desolate in sound, as they connected with the black, empty loneliness remaining of his mind.

He fell forever in that black, dark, shadowed nothingness... until at last he hit solid, weighted ground and once again knew the feel of flesh and blood, the sound of a beating heart as it rang loud and heavy within his ears. His eyes snapped open as he burst free of the Silent Waters – of the black, shadowed nothingness – gasping for air to fill his terror stricken lungs. His breathing was ragged, belabored as his body shook in racking trembles, his gaze frantically scraping the shore to the figure behind the voice that had – that had found him. There the thief stood, his violet-red eyes dark in both confusion and concern, his head tilted a little to the side as he contemplated the vision of sheer, unleashed terror before him.

And Shenjin panicked.

He screamed, the force of his fear ripping at his throat as he burst into motion and tried to run, to – get away – yet his foot slipped and he fell heavily back into the water, submerged in the – the Silent Waters – again. No thoughts... there were no thoughts in that moment, only pure fear and the primal, instinctive urge to flee mingled with the age-old feeling of terror. He thrashed against the water and tried to stand, but in his panic he lost sight of the ground. It faded away into darkness and there was nothing, nothing but – the Silent Waters – all around him. He couldn’t – escape – this time. He couldn’t – the shadows gathered and ached to swallow him as they had so many others – the water was all – all around him, silent, thick, dark, cold – so very cold – and he couldn’t get – out! In his thoughts his screaming continued unabated, unrestrained by the simple needs of air or breath. And so faint as could barely be heard within that terrified wail... something very large, and very fragile, within his mind – cracked.

And then suddenly – and then – hands descended from above – or was it below? – and took him.

Small, gentle hands that moved down beneath his arms and wrapped securely around his back, pulling him back – back to life – quickly to the surface of the waters. He gasped and fell into the warm, strong embrace as the figure before him held him close and cradled his shivering form. There were no thoughts in that moment. Not even of relief. There were only shadows of thoughts – shadows of fear, shadows of pain, shadows of thankfulness. He bared his teeth in a tortured grimace, his hands clenching and gripping the soft leather vest of his savior in reflexive motion. He pressed his face into the muscled flesh of their arm and squeezed his eyes shut, keeping a desperate hold upon them for fear they would disappear and leave him to the silence, to the darkness once more.

His savior – the fickle little thief who knew only joy and laughed in light of life – was no longer fickle, nor laughing. A slight, worried frown was set upon his lips as those dark violet-red eyes of his closed in pain, mirroring the pearl-green youko’s own anguish as he continued to whimper and tremble in piteous, shuddering waves of fading fear. The thief gathered him closer, one hand drifting up to pet the back of head in reassurance, the other slipping down to caress the wet, slick plane of his back with small, circular movements. He murmured soothingly, not really saying anything of importance, just letting the familiar, comforting sound of his voice help to ground the panicked youko back in the Here and Now. Moments passed – an eternity passed – Shenjin relaxing one tortuous fraction with each one until he lay within the thief’s strong arms, held, protected, cared for. He kept his eyes closed as the beating of his heart and the broken lines of his breathing eased back to normal, for the first time in his life accepting the unconditional comfort of another.

For the first time in his life, actually given the chance to.

Slowly, sluggishly his eyes flickered open sometime later to stare down in unfocused calm at the reflection of water beneath the thief’s thigh. His thoughts drifted somewhere between being comprehensible and non-existent as the dainty, black-gloved hand continued to pet the back of his head and caress the nape of his neck. The memories faded and fell back to their dark chambers within his mind, giving way to the stubborn, however belated and sluggish, turn of his own full consciousness. Something about that black-clad thigh and the water beneath it vaguely – on some plane of his mind – startled him... His eyes snapped wide and focused. He struggled out of the thief’s grip and pushed away from him, staring in unsettled disbelief at the creature before him who was crouching – on top of the water!

He stumbled back and nearly tripped, nearly fell back into the lake, yet managed to catch his balance before he did so as his eyes lay trained upon the thief. The thief calmly stared back, his violet-red eyes silent and complacent, his position at ease and unworried – his arms resting upon his knees, his half-gloved hands dangling between them, the tips of his fingers only inches from the water where it rippled from the faint, almost indistinct touch of his black-booted feet. A lock of his dark, black hair slipped down to half-hide the bright burst of yellow and orange fur at his shoulder; his leathery wings rustled once; nothing more.

"Who..." Shenjin bit his tongue, irritated and embarrassed at the thick, sluggish sound to his own voice as he took another faltering step back. "What are you?!"

The thief smiled slowly, disarmingly. "I told you this morning what I am." The mirth dancing in his gaze was short-lived however, to be replaced once again with the concern that was somehow more honest than any the youko had ever seen before. "Shenjin... are you okay?"

Shenjin looked away and shivered. Wrapping his arms around himself, he sank into the water up to his shoulders, his ears dipping to a low, shameful angle. The unusually shy action did not go beyond the thief, who lifted his eyebrows, yet said nothing more. The youko’s voice was quiet when he spoke, reserved and hesitant, muted somehow in a grown obedience that shocked the one before him. "I’d like to leave now."

The thief – who had introduced himself as Kaidei that very morning – leaned back a little in surprise. Was the youko asking him – for permission? The obviously submissive look to the boy’s eyes – still set down and to the side – betrayed that it was so; Kaidei frowned a little. "I’m not stopping you." He murmured gently, not quite sure how to react to such a thing. "You can go whenever you wish."

No thanks were uttered, yet Shenjin held himself very stiff, very wary, as he slowly made his way past the thief, his movement causing the water to shift in rippling waves around him. There had never been a time in his life when – upon being seen or caught in water or in the middle of a bath – the other in question had not tried to take advantage of or use him. If he rebelled or fought back, he was beaten, whipped, chained – anything and everything for his disobedience. Even Kaidei’s words – although gentle and disarming in their way – did not ease the tension in the pearl-green youko’s form. He expected the thief to take him at any moment... and so was truly and completely shocked and confused when he found himself at the edge of the pond, staring at the grass just a hand-span away, still unharmed, still untouched. The pond had a quick dip to it – the land abruptly gave way to the water like a mossy cliff – which allowed the youko to stand still mostly submerged in the water while staring at the ground thick with grass and sand... he reached out to touch it timidly, his fingers resting upon the stones and dirt. His silver eyes lifted from the sight of such freedom and sanctuary so very close – to the dark, grungy pile of his clothes only a pace or two away. Now, if he could only get to them before... he frowned, only then beholding the nice, folded pair of jeans and the cotton shirt resting right next to his own clothing.

"I’m no judge, but they should fit." The thief murmured, uncoiling from his crouch and standing full upon the water. Shenjin kept a wary glance upon him as he walked across the surface to step carefully upon the land. Once there, he kneeled again, picked up the clean, folded clothes, and held them out to the green youko as if offering him a peace treaty. "They will be much more comfortable to wear in place of your old clothes." As Shenjin yet hesitated, he continued evenly, "If it makes you feel better, you can simply wear these until your own clothes are clean."

"How did you get them?"

Kaidei gave a sly, smirking grin and shrugged his shoulder nonchalantly. "I have my ways." Actually, the truth was he had known that Shenjin wished desperately for a bath and for clean clothes. It had taken almost little to no bribing to convince one of the lesser thieves in the general area to conveniently let him – ah – borrow – the clothes of a ningen who had accidentally crossed the worlds some time ago. Of course, the ningen had been dead for quite a while, and it was only by sheer luck that Kaidei could find a pair of clothes that were unmauled, and held no stains of blood or vomit. Taking these in tow he had gone in search of the pearl-green youko that had caught his interest in order to give him the somewhat thoughtless gift, only to find him here... like this...

He had been struck at first by the strange stillness of the creature as Shenjin crouched by the pond, almost as if he were waiting for something. Moments later he had burst into movement and leapt into the water; a full three minutes must have passed before he came back up, sputtering and gasping for air. The frantic movements he portrayed in trying to bathe himself startled Kaidei and frankly worried him; that, added to the abrupt stillness when he came to scar at his chest, then the return of the frantic movements solidified the thought in his mind that something was terribly, terribly wrong. It wasn’t just his actions or his constant shifting between anger, fear, and a certain amount of void-less emotion; it was something deeper, something within the pearl-green youko’s mind that worried him.

He was clearly broken, the fragile planes of his mind cracking and revealing variant shades of darkness and shadows beyond. Another few years as he stood and the youko would shatter as easily as a piece of glass upon a plate of stone. There would be nothing left to fight with, to argue against, to watch, to tease, to inspire hope – there would be nothing but an empty shell with cold, listless silver eyes and unusually beautiful hair.

For some reason, that thought affected the thief more than he was willing to admit.

As Kaidei held out the clean clothes to Shenjin a brief, foreign sort of pain touched his heart. The flicker of wariness and distrust flared within those silver eyes – and still he made no move to take them. The boy had obviously never known a moment of true kindness from a stranger before – or anyone for that matter – and the thought itself was enough to resolve Kaidei’s mind.

"I won’t bite." He murmured, then suppress half-grin that teased at his lips and revealed one of his sharp little fangs. What could he say? Old mannerisms die hard. "I may nibble a little, but I don’t bite." Well, not very hard, anyway.

Confusion clouded the mesmerizing silver gaze before him; very slowly, very cautiously, Shenjin reached out a hand to take the proffered clothes. Almost immediately after a dark pink flush came to his cheeks and his voice trembled – yet his gaze was steady. A strange, curious combination. "Turn around."

Yes, shy indeed. What have you to fear in other’s seeing your beauty, little fox? Obediently Kaidei stood and turned his back; he even took a few steps closer to the forest as Shenjin hesitated for an even longer breath of time. A grin teased his lips as he fought the urge to turn and look as the sounds of the pearl-green youko slipping out of the water tickled his ears. He waited in patience, listening intently to the soft whisper of worn-in cloth being slipped on. Another hesitation, and then... "Do you have a knife?"

Slowly – so as to give the boy enough time to either panic or object – Kaidei turned to face him. The sight that greeted him affected him much more than it should have, under the circumstances.

Shenjin was kneeling next to his ratted clothes, dressed only in the dead human’s shirt – which was much larger than his own had been, and which would have reached down a hand-span shy of his knees, had he been standing. It was settled precariously, the half-ripped collar slipping down to reveal one pale, smooth shoulder. The sleeves themselves – which were supposed to be short – came down to Shenjin’s mid-forearm. The thief’s eyes were drawn to the tiny droplets of water dripping from the ragged tips of his pale green hair, sliding down the tanned length of his throat, past the thrice-collar of teargems, to soak into the dark blue cloth of the shirt. In his hands he gripped the jeans material of the pants; his ratted tail curled around his ankles, the object of his timid, enchanting dismay.

A knife... Kaidei reminded himself absently before reaching back and slipping one free from its sheath at the small of his spine. Shenjin appeared mildly surprised at the seemingly magickal appearance, yet said nothing as he took the blade and cut into the tail of the jeans – slicing an open slit approximately three inches long. He then proceeded to cut six little puncture-holes by the slit he had made, three on each side. With a wary glance at Kaidei – who obediently turned back around – he pulled them on. Once this was accomplished, Kaidei watched in curiosity as Shenjin gathered the huge shirt in his hands and lifted most of it to his mouth to keep it out of his way – thus unconsciously revealing the slim, tanned belly hidden beneath. He reached back and – using the strip-thin pieces he took from the ankles (to shorten them, the thief guessed) – he lifted the pants a little more, laced the strips through the holes, and tied them off. Once done, he released the jeans – then promptly grabbed them again as they began slipping a little too low. He grabbed up the dark sash-belt from his other clothes and quickly holed it through the belt-loops in the jeans, tying it off firmly. The pants settled more comfortably at his waist. Experimentally he wagged the tatter remnants of his pearl-green tail – the pants slipped down a shade to settle upon his hips before stilling. This whole business effectively managed to create a place for his scraggling tail to hang loose, unheld, unhindered by the cloth. Apparently satisfied, Shenjin released the grasp of the dark blue shirt in his mouth – thus letting it hang down naturally, almost engulfing his slim form – before he held the borrowed blade back to Kaidei, hilt-first.

Again, there were no thanks; Shenjin gathered his old clothes in his arms, and stared at the thief in silence. Kaidei stared back, momentarily forgetting the fact that he probably had better things to do besides standing there and watching a young, pearl-green youko simply breathe. He did have better things to do – didn’t he? He began to wonder over the truth of that thought, the corner of his lip quirking in a thoughtful almost-smile as a faint, timid flush arose to color Shenjin’s cheeks.

"We should go back to the camp."

Kaidei nodded a little. "Yeah."

"Before my brother thinks I tried to leave and gets pissed."

Again, the quirking almost-smile. "Yeah."

Shenjin’s ears twitched before moving to a lax half-back; if the thief didn’t know better, he would have suspected that shimmering sparkle in those silver eyes to be mischievous highlights. "He gets awfully domineering when he’s pissed, ne?"

Kaidei laughed outright at that. "Hai, he does." He nodded toward the forest, where some ways beyond the pearl-green youko’s companions awaited them. "Come on." He moved to embark upon the short trek from here to there.

"Matte!"

He stilled, settled back upon his heel and half-turned, facing Shenjin once more; the young youko flushed in embarrassment and looked away.

"I –... never mind."

"Are you sure?"

Shenjin gathered his ratted clothes against his chest, bit the inside of his lip, and nodded. "Yeah." He murmured faintly. "Yeah, I’m sure." Lowering his gaze and following the thief as he trailed his way back through the wild Makai forests.

Hiei looked up as the two walked back into the clearing; he traded silent glances with Kurama before turning his attention back to the tiny black flames teasing around the tips of his fingers. So far he could do no more than that, and humored himself – if it indeed it was possible that the half-koorime could humor himself – with making each individual flame dance from one finger to another.

Kurama eyed the pearl-green youko with a certain amount of contempt that he was finding it hard to keep hold of. Ever since the creature had said he no longer wished to be angry, he had kept true to his word; although irritation flashed often within those silver eyes, he said nothing harsh or condescending, and – if Kurama pushed to see if he would budge – merely walked away. For some reason that ticked Kurama off to no ends. He would rather be furious at his so-called "brother" and hate him, than consider him a formidable companion and face the well of shame and guilt that stirred within his soul at memories he still refused to view. When Shenjin realized that Youko Kurama remembered nothing of their supposed "shared past" his anger had been immediate, yet brief. It had left him standing there staring at the silver youko, looking dazed, somewhat helpless, and all of a sudden incredibly young. Almost... and Kurama shied away from this thought, but almost... as if he didn’t know how to handle any other emotion than hate in thinking of his older brother.

I’m not his brother! Even Yuusuke said our ki signatures have very few similarities! Kurama snarled in his mind, looking away as his ears flipped back stiffly. The sad thing was, he had been repeating the exact same lines over and over for the past half-hour, to the exact same result; a wavering flush of guilt and the tickle of memories hidden in the back of his mind. Irritably he shook both of these away and turned his gaze to the chimera chirping happily and grinning as he took Shenjin’s elbow and guided him to the fire – where breakfast silently awaited them.

That thief... Kurama didn’t trust him. Every single one of the little thief’s actions hinted to a sort of happiness and meddlesome joy – fickle and yet somehow enchanting even so – which in turn revealed, deep within, a being much too old to be his apparent age. In his First Life Kurama had met many creatures that were his elder – even a tiger-spirit that was twelve-hundred years old when he himself had only been two-hundred. For most youkai there were only two roads to travel as they grew that old and older; they could either go insane, or... well, act like the thief was acting – as if nothing mattered, everything was a game, and there was no such thing as danger, harm, or pain in the world. The tiger-spirit had chosen the second path, and so... had Kuronue.

Kurama shifted on the ground as he toyed absently with a small willow-sprig, his brow drawing together in a thoughtful, disturbed frown. Kuronue... his old partner, his lover, and his best friend. He had been reminded of the creature too many times in the past few days, first with Shenjin’s similar techniques in daring him to a test of wills... and now with this thief that called himself Kaidei. In fact, upon thinking it, Kaidei was exactly like Kuronue, excepting only a few, slight things such as facial appearance, and a few minute differences in dress. Truth to tell, when Kurama had returned to their camp the night before to find the pesky little thief unashamedly digging through a small pouch Yuusuke had brought along, he had suspected that the creature was either Kuronue reincarnated or... well, simply "or", since there didn’t seem to be any other explanation. His suspicions grew as the night progressed for Kaidei kept them up another hour or so asking questions. When Shenjin muttered a curse and lay down to sleep, the thief bounded over to him and sat on him. The sight of the pearl-green youko trying to push the creature off was enough to make even Hiei laugh a little – a very little – but Kurama had found himself frowning instead.

Memories of Kuronue sitting upon him when he woke up bored and restless in the middle of the night rose to his mind, and he didn’t like the reminder one bit. He didn’t like delving into his old past very often, and both Shenjin as well as Kaidei seemed hell-bent upon throwing it back at him, forcing him to see what he no longer wished to see.

Eventually the thief grew still and let the others sleep. Kurama stayed up and stared at the black-clad creature across the fire... in return, Kaidei bared a tiny-fanged grin at him. "Wanna see something?" he murmured, pushing himself to his feet and motioning for the silver kitsune to follow him to the edge of the clearing. Once there he stopped, turning to face the darkness of the horizon. "Watch..." Slowly, gradually, the shadows around the chimera began to waver and fluctuate. Kurama waited for the feel of the thief’s you-ki to enter his subconscious, but to no avail; even when using his Power he kept it well shielded and hidden – something no other demon could do with much success. The thief began to frown in a meditative, most unbecoming way, a few small beads of sweat gathering at his brow as he concentrated...

What was he doing... ?

Abruptly Kaidei let his breath out in a rush, his eyes blinking open to stare at a small patch of violet-red light shimmering in the shadows before him. He reached out and plucked it free of the darkness before turning to Kurama. He gave him a second, more subdued version of his cheeky grin and held out the medallion lazily dangling from his fingertips. "This is what you’re looking for, isn’t it? To confirm if I am or am not the one you suspect me of being?"

Kurama gasped, his golden eyes widening upon the medallion. He practically snatched it from the little hand that held it and stared down at the turn of silver traced into that of a teardrop, and the deep, blood-red jewel that glowed from within the metal folds. Kuronue’s talisman... With a snarl he gripped the thief’s black leathery vest in his claws and plucked him from the ground, lifting him so that he was level with the youko’s ferocious gaze. "Who the hell are you?"

"Are you afraid, Kurama?" Kaidei breathed in a slow, tickling whisper. "Are you afraid that I am Kuronue? That somehow I managed to come back to life – to be born again, in this body? Are you frightened that I will come and hunt you down, and ruin any chances that you may have with the little fire-demon watching you threaten me even now?" There was no trace of laughter, taunting, nor malicious play within his voice. Only a soft, thoughtful breath of sound. One black-gloved hand lifted to rest upon Kurama’s pale fist; the chimera’s eyes were dark and serious. "I am not who you think I am. I never was, and I never shall be. Kuronue is my cousin, – of sorts." A short, ironic laugh escaped his lips. "A very strange sorts. I’m sure that’s why you suspected me; they say that he and I are – very alike."

"Where did you get this?" Kurama let loose a fettered growl and held the talisman close to Kaidei’s face, his knuckles white where he clenched the silver chain.

"It’s mine." Magenta eyes settled and bored into his own heavily as the chimera continued to speak in that low, soft voice of his. "As it was once Kuronue’s, as it was once yours. Someone gave it you, Kurama, and you gave it to him. He gave it to another, who in turn gave it to me." As I will, in turn, give it to another. "That is the essence of its power. One can only hold it once, and only for so long, before it must be passed to another, either in life – or death." He reached out and gently grasped the talisman; it came free of Kurama’s grip easily – as he knew it would – confirming his statement. Kurama flexed his grip on the Kaidei’s vest and growled.

"Did you kill him?"

"What – Kuronue?" the thief laughed softly, almost ironically, in the darkness. "No. He’s still very much alive." At the brief flicker of discomfort in the silver youko’s eyes, he relented, taking mercy upon one’s uncertainty. "He won’t come back to haunt you, Kurama. If he does return it will be of his own violation, and he will have no more feelings for you than that of someone who once knew a very good friend. He remembers you just as you remember him – a partner who was there to help, a lover who warmed the nights and forced the shadows away, and above all else the best friend he ever knew." He shifted in Kurama’s grip, glancing down at the ground where it lay a few obvious feet below his boots. "He’s moved on, just as you’re trying to do. If you meet again – or rather I should say when for it is inevitable that you will come upon one another – there will be no hard feelings for what may or may not have happened in the past, and each of you will have new life-mates to share your remaining days with. You will both be happy for each other and resume your friendship where it was once left." He bared his teeth in a grin. "Chastely, of course, since both of your life-mates will have an unusually strong streak of possessiveness running through their veins."

"How do you know this?" Kurama snarled, shaking the thief a little and making the youthful face draw tight in a frown.

Those depthless violet-red eyes met his golden gaze with such a look, filled with such age-old strength and warning, that for a brief, disconcerting moment Kurama felt as if he were looking into the eyes of Enma Daiou himself. "Dare you question me?"

The silver youko shook away the fumbling half-thought apologies that began piling up against the road-block of his brain and frowned again, shaking the thief one last time – however gently it may have been. "You better not be lying, thief. I have ways of finding out, and if you’re lying – for any reason, on anything –"

"I’m not lying, Kurama. Now put me down." Without really knowing why, Kurama set him upon his feet and released him; Kaidei straightened his vest, brushed off the fluff of yellow and orange fur at his shoulder, lifted the talisman to place about his neck, and fluttered his wings. "You might want to find the real reason behind all that anger, you know. It’s getting worse each day that passes in your brother’s presence –"

"He’s not my –"

"Honto? Maybe you should rethink that part a little more." The chimera fluttered his wings absently, his dark eyes unusually wise and for the very first time filled with such a solemn air as to be almost devastating with its serious undertones. "Ever wonder exactly why you can’t – and don’t want to – remember the first time you met him? Think on it. The right answer might come a surprise to you." He stepped back, tilting his head at an insane angle. "Ja!" In a blur of shadows he was gone, leaving Kurama to stare at the ground before him. When he turned back to the camp it was only to see the little thief upon the ground a leap away from the fire. His arms and legs were flung wide, his black wings sprawled out like a leather blanket beneath him; he was snoring away with soft little kittenish sounds chirping in his throat. Reluctantly Kurama moved back to settle himself beneath the tree in which Hiei had taken residence to sleep as well.

"Not much trouble, eh, Yuusuke?" he had growled somewhat dryly the next morning, his golden eyes leveled upon the small, black-clad body still blissfully purring away in his sleep.

Shenjin had frowned at the sight, his silver eyes narrow; Kuwabara made a strangled sound in the back of his throat; Hiei tilted his head to the right.

Yuusuke practically choked. "How is he doing that?!"

Kurama had no answer; in fact, none of them did. For as the dainty thief lay there, hovering in the air above him were what appeared to be two half-mauled spirit-mutts, a Makai rabbit, and a bandit very similar to the corpse they had run across the day before. All were dead; the bandit’s head was even floating in a totally opposite direction from the body. Shenjin approached cautiously and pushed one of the spirit-mutts; it swayed for a moment as if in a breeze before settling back in its original position. They could do nothing until he awoke... and when he did, the thief yawned, stretch, sat up, blinked in surprise at the bodies floating above him, then grinned in unveiled delight.

"Breakfast!" He chirped, grabbing the corpse of the Makai rabbit and standing, holding it firmly between his small hands and approaching the fire to cook it as the other bodies fell with a thud to the ground behind him. No matter how many questions, threats, or likewise statements followed, the cheeky little creature refused to give them a straight answer on the matter. The only thing they could get him to confess was his ability; he claimed to be able to manipulate things.

Reality, inanimate objects, plants, air... thus explaining the invisible ropes that he had bound Shenjin with. They weren’t real ropes; he had just manipulated the air and you-ki around the youko to hold him still. Of course, this was explanation was said as an undertone to Shenjin – who cursed and threatened the thief’s remaining years of life if he let slip anything even remotely hinting to the fact that he had been tied to any of the other companions around their camp. The thief had giggled, shrugged, and offered the rest of them an edited version consisting of: "I manipulate things. If I want something to do something – it does! Nifty, ne?"

At their blatant looks of disbelief he laughed, his violet-red eyes aglow with the challenge they presented him. "Here, watch this." He got to his knees, grabbed Shenjin’s hand, and requested to hold one of Kurama’s seeds. Reluctantly Kurama handed over a relatively harmless plant and warily beheld the thief as he placed the seed upon the ground and put the palm of Shenjin’s hand over it, placing his own on top. With his other arm he reached out and tugged the pearl-green youko unceremoniously closer – he nearly fell in the thief’s lap with a short, strangled cry of indignation, which Kaidei merrily ignored. The thief simply closed those dark, magenta eyes and concentrated.

A faint black and violet glow circled the two hands pressed against the ground, growing in intensity as the thief lifted Shenjin’s palm to hover an inch above the sand. Slowly, gradually, a few thin tendrils of the plant curled up from the shadows beneath their hands and grew larger; the thief kept concentrating and slowly – minute inches at a time – pulling Shenjin’s hand farther away from the ground. What was left when he finally pulled away was a perfectly formed little black plant that was laced with unusual violet-red stripes and outlined with – strangely enough – pearl-green highlights. It was certainly not the plant Kurama had handed him.

"Maa." The thief laced his fingers absentmindedly with Shenjin’s as he looked at his work, a mixture of over-exaggerated pride and sadness in his gaze. "It won’t last long, though. See?" he pointed at the flower blossoming in the center, even as it burst into full bloom and began to wither. "I can’t imitate other demons’ powers for very long. Poor me." He pouted a little, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Shenjin was determinedly trying to get his hand free from the thief’s grip. "Ah, no matter, eh, Shenjin-chan?" Shenjin froze, his face a mask of horror at the added title, unfortunately giving the thief the moment he needed to reach out and ruffle the pearl-green youko’s short, disordered mop of hair.

Instead of growling or cursing, Shenjin gave one last sharp tug to release his hand and looked away, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. He scowled ferociously at the ground as the thief grinned for all he was worth and turned to Yuusuke. "What was it you wanted to ask me?"

Yuusuke blinked, caught off-guard by the creature's sudden tact. "I - was going to ask what you're doing? Just travelling, or do you have an actual purpose or - what?"

Kaidei settled back a little, and grew solemn. "I'm looking for something." He murmured quietly, his violet-red eyes lowering to the ground, his tone making it quite clear he didn't intend to elaborate on the subject.

"Looking for what?" Kurama asked suspiciously, the last inch of his tail thumping the ground by his thigh.

The thief glanced up just long enough to meet the silver kitsune's gaze. "I don't know. When I see it, I'll know. But until then..." He gave a small, minute shrug and then clapped his hands, brightening up considerably.

"Oi, oi! Introductions!" He leapt to his feet and pointed at Yuusuke: "Yuusuke, ningen, demon, Tantrei, delinquent – there art thou known!" Pointing to Kuwabara: "Kuwabara, ningen, dolt, Tantrei, delinquent – there art thou known!" To Hiei: "Hiei, fire-demon, koorime, half-breed, Forbidden Child, assassin, killer, Tantrei – there art thou known!" To Kurama: "Kurama, Shuuichi, Youko, ningen, lover, thief, Tantrei, fox, perfect student – oh, and a thousand others! – there art thou known!"

To Shenjin – he faltered, the smile fading a little, growing quiet and almost thoughtful in the silence: "Shenjin... there are thou known."

He continued to gaze at the pearl-green youko, his violet-crimson eyes dark and occupied, as if trying to wade his way through an ultimately shadowed enigma; moments later he shook this away and perked back up, giving them all a wide grin as he pointed to himself proudly. "Kuradan Kaidei! Chimera, thief, and simply me – there art I known!"

With that he plopped back down in place beside the others and continued eating his breakfast as they all stared at him, each completely set in their mind that he had lost his own somewhere along the way.

Shortly after Kurama had left to Hunt and upon his return had found not only the other youko but the thief missing in residence. As they returned, his gaze was drawn to the obviously damp, slightly disheveled look of the former and the insanely cheerful (as if this would be a new thing) of the latter. Although Kaidei appeared his normal moronic self, Shenjin appeared more... subdued... in a strange, indescribable way. He was normally quiet – excepting only when he chose to fight with Kurama – but was always forthright, and always wary and attentive to every detail of every motion that happened around him. This was no longer the case as he followed the thief back, the dark pile of his old clothes clutched against his chest. He was dressed in an overly large dark blue ningen shirt and a pair of ningen jeans – also too large and hastily mended to fit his stringy green tail. His silver eyes were dim and set upon the ground as he walked; he set the pile of his clothes to the side and sat by the fire as Kaidei directed him to without a word.

Kurama watched him eat breakfast, some way-ward sense of irritation gathering within him at the sight of the boy so obviously subservient. He wanted to go up and slap the green youko – to kick him, bite him – anything to get his silver eyes to focus and snap back to the wary life they had held before. The insane urge to run up and hug the kitsune in a fiercely protective grip – from his Shuuichi Aspect, no doubt – mixed with the equally insane urge to begin strangling him – from the Youko Aspect, obviously – although contradictory, were both concocted with the same intent in mind – the shake him out of whatever was wrong and get him back to acting like himself – like Shenjin – like Kurama’s –

He clamped down hard on that thought, the youko half of his mind raging half-grumbled curses as the human half took the thief’s advice and began the incredibly annoying task of trying to figure out why the youko was so reluctant to hear, say, remember, see, know... anything... about someone who claimed to be his relative.

That, on the whole, could wait until later, though. For now most of his mind was gathering in the forefront and trying to instigate what had happened between the two younger creatures to make the pearl-green youko act in such a way? If the thief had hurt him... but no, he didn’t appear to be harmed, nor disturbed by the thief’s presence. For the first time that morning he didn’t object to being call ‘Shenjin-chan’ – although it was more as if he didn’t notice as opposed to the fact that he might not care. Kurama’s gaze roved over him, searching for any sign, any clue as to what might have caused this change... and alighted upon the string of teargems wrapped around the pearl-green youko’s forearm and throat. His ears flickered, drew taut, then set forward.

He stood up. "Shenjin, come here."

Shenjin glanced up, that flare of anger and wariness reappearing in his eyes, the subservient manner gone in the flicker of a second. A brief flash of bitter success rang tiny bells in the back of the silver youko’s mind. He studiously ignored them; Shenjin’s ears flipped to a cautious half-back as he bristled. "Why?"

Youko Kurama grabbed his arm – his right arm – and yanked him to his feet as the others watched in silent curiosity. "Because I’m tired of seeing these damn things on you, that’s why." He snarled, despising the thought of a collar – and unwilling to admit that he may not have wanted such a thing upon the creature that was his – that claimed itself to be – his brother. Shenjin stumbled, but held still, an unfriendly scowl upon his lips as Kurama eyed the brace of teargems and youko hair wrapped around his arm. He reached out to touch it – and barked a sharp cry as a small, thick tendril of lightning snaked out to send a reverberating shock from the tips of his fingers all the way up to his shoulder. He snatched his hand back and growled. "What the hell did you do that for?!"

"It wasn’t me, you curd!" Shenjin snarled back, baring his fangs in anger. "The lightning I control is green – not black! You think I don’t want this thing off my arm, too?!"

Kurama grumbled and tried again – only to yelp and snatch his hand away once more. Okay, so a youko couldn’t touch it... "Yuusuke, come get this thing offa him."

Yuusuke gave him and odd look but came over and tried – to the exact same effect. By the third and fourth tries Shenjin was flinching and grimacing, yet neither of the two before him bothered to notice. Both of them turned to the other sitting still by the fire – "Kuwabara!!" Still... no luck. The string of teargems shocked each of them with small, if formidable amounts of electrical lightning, each zap growing slightly stronger with every forthcoming attempt.

Kaidei sat to the side, apparently de-fleaing the fluff of yellow and orange fur at his shoulder, oblivious to the proceedings. Up until the moment when Shenjin gave a short, muffled cry - which very well could have been a growl and gone by unnoticed to the chimera had he not just heard a similar sound come from the youko's lips an hour before. Calmly the thief pet the fluff, settling the fur to his liking, and looked up. He watched with humor at first, then mild curiosity, then a growing interest that made his smile fade away into nothingness. Small droplets of sweat were gathering on Shenjin’s brow as he turned his face away – keeping his left arm out to his companions. The thief cleared his throat pointedly just as Yuusuke was readying himself to try again – causing three pairs of eyes to turn on him. "You know," he offered mildly, "It is made of koorime teargems. Maybe only a koorime is allowed to touch it."

. . . three pairs of eyes stared...

. . . crickets chirped in the background...

And then – "Hiei!" Kurama whirled on his heel and stomped over to the tree where the half-fire-demon was still absent-mindedly trying to force his power to return. His crimson eyes lowered to pierce the silver kitsune beneath him with a withering glare... which was returned by one of Youko Kurama’s most sensual smiles. His low alto voice grew soft so the others wouldn’t hear his words as he set his hands out and leaned against the tree, allowing the flowing grace of his tail to seductively tease the back of his knees. "Baby... you think you could come help us for a second? I promise, I’ll make it worth your while..."

"Hn." Hiei ignored the kitsune and turned back to his business –

Yet abruptly found himself falling through the air and into a pair of warm, strong arms. He blinked up at the shimmering golden eyes above him as Kurama quickly leaned down and licked the tip of his nose. Hiei stared... then flushed, fighting back against the grip that held him, somehow managing to regain his own two feet upon the ground as he struggled. Instead of ignoring the stupid fox completely, he pushed Kurama away and marched past him. Sending a death glare to the others, he steadfastly forced the blush from his cheeks. He halted before the pearl-green youko and met a pair of uncertain silver eyes – with a snarled curse he grabbed the arm wrapped in teargems –

And lost sight of the world.

The flare of Other World power that accompanied the half-breed’s touch forced the two humans and the silver youko a half-step back. Kaidei stood firm, the thick black wave of his hair brushed back by the invisible ki-wind; his chin lowered a bare span as violet-red eyes narrowed. He knew the feel of that power all too well...

Yuusuke gave a strangled shout as the wave of ki grew into a Force and shoved the three back another few steps. He tried slamming his fist forward – into a solid, invisible wall of sheer essence that couldn’t be breached, even using the powers of a thousand S-classed youkai combined. Kuwabara summoned his spirit sword as Youko Kurama yelled the half-breeds name and leapt at the Force, his ears a tight line against his mane of hair, his silvery tail whipping behind them. All of their efforts went to no avail; nothing could get pas the barrier, and nothing could approach within three feet of the two.

Kaidei stood silently to the side, his eyes depthless as he watched the identical expressions of shock that rippled across Shenjin and Hiei’s face before all emotion was wiped clean from both. The string of teargems wrapped around his left arm began glowing with flame – faint at first, and a pale blue – before they grew stronger and shifted shades to a dark, insidious black, then at last lightening to a violet-red that roiled with suppress being. The fire-demon stood immobile and seemingly untouched save for a lock of the strange flame engulfing the hand which was still pressed to Shenjin’s outstretched arm; Shenjin himself was completely altered, tiny pearl-green and ice-blue sparks appearing randomly about his person, accompanied by vague wisps of violet-red flame. His eyes no longer shone bright the cautious, hard flecks of silver; they were solid black, no trace of light either reflecting nor ignited within them.

And then the half-breed began to speak, the heavy, thunderous baritone of his voice thick with forming the half-growling half-snarling words of some demonic language none in the whole of the Makai had ever heard before. Kurama and the two humans stilled their efforts and froze at the sound; Kaidei frowned, his gaze shifting to Shenjin. Don’t speak it, little fox... stay safe and don’t speak it...

No such luck; the pearl-green youko’s lips parted and his soft alto voice joined that of the half-breed’s deep, gutteral drawl.

A long, whispery breath of sound and... "There is a fire burning in me..." deeper, resounding echoes of his words vibrated throughout the Force of Space, jarring the souls of those three who stood outside of its grip, although they could no more hear the next few words as they could understand the half-breed’s snarling language. So strong, so hot, so cold, so driven, I can feel him... not the one. "A Power that grows and lies dormant, that seeks and wishes to find and yet awaits patiently..." The deeper voice again, thick, forcing the silver youko and the smaller human to grit their teeth in a grimace of non-pain. So reckless, so frail, so lost, so broken, so cherished... even yet so cherished... I can feel him... "I will find the source of this Power, this other half of myself... I have found you – I have found myself – I know I have for I can feel you. I can feel the Life within you..." I can feel him... "You, the beat of my strength, the heart of my soul... I await your return... only one shall I accept, only one and then..." I can feel him... so cherished, even yet... A grimace of pain slipped through the mask of Shenjin’s pale features, accompanied by a choking hesitation the snarling monologue of the half-demon by his side. "It comes again. Every day it comes and speaks, trying to find the source of myself, the source of you, for it knows even if it knows not... it knows who you are, what I am, who we as One are, how much Power we have, that we are immortal g-"

A small hand pressed flat against the diminutive half-breed’s chest and gave him a firm push backwards, hard enough to break the connection and sent him stumbling. Kurama leapt forward and caught him before he would have fallen, pale slim arms wrapping around the fire-demon as gold, flat golden eyes lifted in a snarl. The thief stood before a very shaky, very obviously frightened Shenjin, his violet-crimson eyes flat and emotionless. "That’s enough." He murmured quietly, the force of his words – the very force of his eternal, depthless eyes – settling upon the group, causing their souls to reel back as their material bodies stood rooted to the ground. That tone in his voice, that solemn, serious expression to his face and within his eyes, broached no argument, nor question as he stared each the half-breed, the silver youko, and the two humans down. Kurama’s arms tightened imperceptibly around Hiei’s chest as took a slow, meaningful step back, dragging the stunned, disoriented fire-demon with him, simultaneously trying to shake the immutable feeling that he had once again been faced with a being just as powerful if not more-so than Enma Daiou himself.

Presently that gaze broke from its steady, piercing weight and Kaidei glanced past them, his magenta eyes lifting to flicker over the sky. "It’s about time we get moving, ne? If you plan on trying to reach this ‘Master’s’ domain by tomorrow evening." He murmured, stepping to the side to pick up Yuusuke’s satchel and toss it to him. "Let’s go."