The other warriors had already left in an attempt to contain Seiryuu and--hopefully--stop him altogether. Botan had kept the youkai behind because she claimed to have a special mission for him.
"The others won't be able to concentrate on the battle if they're worried about him," she protested. "This is the best way for you to help them."
"Why me?" he demanded. What did he know about human brats? He'd much rather be out pitting his skills against Seiryuu, fighting at Kurama's side.
"Because you can probably find him the fastest," she replied practically. "Besides, you knew his father and the other Seishi. Wherever he is, he's got to be scared, and he'll need all the reassurances we can give him."
He scowled, but he couldn't think of a reason to contradict her, especially since the others had already left. "Do you know where to start?"
"I thought we should follow the dragon's path. That way, if he's injured, we'll come across him sooner. If he's still safe, he'll be able to wait a bit longer."
"Lead the way." The more quickly he got this over with, the better, as far as he was concerned.
She took him to the nearest intersection with the god's trail of destruction. "Okay," she said, considering. "If we split up here, we can cover more area. I'll go this way." She pointed in the direction of increasing damage, perhaps assuming that if he went toward his companions his search would be less thorough in his desire to rejoin them. "Remember, he's only five years old, and he's in a strange place, away from everything he knows. He's likely frightened, so he might be hiding."
"Hn."
She eyed him speculatively. "And don't you go scaring him yourself!"
He answered with a smirk.
At last she let him go, satisfied that he wouldn't traumatize the kid unduly. He shook his head as he picked his way through the mess, on the alert for signs of life. So, Hotohori had a son? He knew time passed differently in Konan from his prior experience there. Kurama had been so worried that he had been away from home for a week without word, but when they returned to the Ningenkai, it was only the morning after they had disappeared, and most of that could be accounted for by the night they had spent in the Makai. He could easily believe that the same phenomenon had allowed for the prince's birth and development in such a short span.
Not that he particularly cared, he told himself, it was just something to occupy his mind.
The amount of rubble diminished as he continued, boosting his efficiency. He had been sorry to hear of the deaths of the Seishi. They had been strong warriors after all, worthy of respect. However, they had died in battle, performing their duty, and their lifespans would have been short anyway, so he felt they had reasonable destinies. He certainly wouldn't get sentimental over it.
He had nearly reached the dragon's point of origin, judging by the relatively intact state of the hall. In fact... He zipped ahead, on a hunch, and found his guess completely justified. The thin layer of dust on the floor was undisturbed save for two sets of prints centering around an open door. One set belonged unquestionably to Seiryuu's weakened human form as he escaped from his prison, while the other was much smaller, more in line with what would be produced by a young child.
He followed the tracks to a nearby vacant room. He located the boy who had caused all the fuss, curled up behind a pile of old cushions, fast asleep. There could be no doubt about his identity, even if there were a hundred human boys running around the Reikai. With only a few differences, he looked like a miniature version of his father. His face was still rounded with baby fat and his hair had a distinct violet tinge, but otherwise his features were the same.
He reached down to scoop the child into his arms. He hoped that if he could deliver the kid to Botan, she would give him leave to enter the fray. He hadn't counted on the prince waking up. The boy opened his large, expressive eyes, stared in shock at his would-be rescuer, and quietly began to cry.
The youkai blinked at the sobbing child. He didn't *think* he had caused any damage, but humans were so fragile, especially when young. He got the feeling Botan would skin him alive if he had hurt the brat, not to mention what Kurama would do. Resigned to spending more time than anticipated on this project, he ran his hands briskly over the boy's body, checking for problems.
Unfortunately, although he determined that there had been no physical injury, the procedure did not improve the kid's emotional state. He sat back on his heels, unsure what course of action he should take. Maybe he just needed to be firm. "There's nothing wrong with you," he explained. "Stop crying."
The prince sniffed and wiped at his tears, but they continued to fall.
"Quit it!" Hiei growled, exasperated. He realized he didn't know anything about the child aside from his lineage. It wasn't much to work with, but perhaps not entirely useless. "I never saw your father crying. What would he think?"
The boy's eyes grew wide. This time the muffled sobs stopped. "You knew my father?" he asked, hiccuping slightly. "Who--who are you?"
"Hiei." If he kept the kid talking, he figured, the tears wouldn't start up again. "And you?"
"Hoshi." He smiled hesitantly. "Tamahome-ojisan named me. He said all the Seishi were named for stars, so I should be, too."
"Hn." It seemed they had achieved a truce, and he wondered what to do next. He decided to try his original plan one more time. "Come here," he said, beckoning. "I'll take you to..."
The prince readily transferred positions to the demon's lap, twining small arms around his neck and snuggling against him in complete trust. "Tell me about my father."
With reluctance, but seeing no other option to prevent a second crying fit, Hiei began to exercise his hitherto underutilized storytelling talents. When Botan finally came to check on him, he had gotten to the part where the emperor had saved Kurama's life by recognizing the antidote to the poison spreading through the youko's system. He glared at her for interrupting, before remembering that he *wanted* her to take the boy.
"You found him!" she exclaimed, stating the obvious. "Is he all right?"
"He's fine." He glanced down at Hoshi, ascertaining that the child was still wide awake and listening. "He's probably starving. Am I done here?"
"I just received word from the others. They managed to subdue the dragon." She smiled in good cheer. "Actually, I hear they were losing badly, until Kaika began playing his flute. That calmed Seiryuu down in a hurry. He's back in his human form now, and Koenma-sama is having a long talk with him."
He scowled. The brat had made him miss the whole battle. And another thing... "Who the hell is Kaika?"
"It's complicated." For once, he couldn't read her expression. "Come with me and you can meet him."
He stood and set the prince on the floor. "Let's go."
Before he could take more than two steps, a tiny hand snagged his own, the fingers gripping him securely. Hoshi didn't release him during the entire trip.
It didn't take long for the three of them to make their way back to the group. Yuusuke had already returned home. Yukina had arrived to care for her fiance, who had been extensively wounded by the vengeful god--which was the one positive aspect of this whole situation, in Hiei's mind. Kurama perked up at their entrance, his green eyes brightening as they lit on the youkai and the boy. He appeared unharmed upon a superficial inspection.
The child struggled to maintain a dignified pace when he spotted his relieved guardian, practically dragging Hiei over to the Seishi. Tamahome sank to his knees, allowing him to face his charge on his own level. "Do you know how worried we were about you?" the warrior scolded. The others joined in, adding their own greetings and admonishments, until the kid had to let go of the youkai's hand to answer them all.
Kurama rested an arm around Hiei's shoulders and leaned down to whisper in his ear. "He's quite adorable, isn't he? You seem to have gotten along well with him." When the fire demon shot him a look expressing his annoyance, he added teasingly, "At least you didn't kill him..."
"Would have been less trouble."
The crazy fox only laughed and tickled the back of his neck. "Now that we're all here, Botan is supposed to arrange lunch for this hungry mob. Do you want to stick around?"
He considered. It would mean enduring a lot of catching-up conversation with the Seishi, which didn't exactly appeal to him but would probably make Kurama happy, plus suffering through Kuwabara's presence. On the other hand, he would be with his sister, and he could never resist spending time in her company. There was also the chance that Seiryuu might rampage again, and he wouldn't want to be left out of a good fight twice in one day. "For a while," he admitted.
After the Suzaku Seishi concluded the reunion with their prince, they turned their attention to the demons who had once visited their world. Chichiri was the first to speak. "Thank you both for everything no da." Hiei noted that the monk sported a wicked scar across his left eye, which hadn't been in evidence last time.
"Yeah, thanks." Tasuki grinned. "But why is it that, whenever we meet, a battle starts?"
The youkai personally felt that to be a good sign. His thoughts broke off, however, when the arm around him tightened possessively at the bandit's approach. He looked up at Kurama, who was idly fingering the silver chain of his necklace. "Except that this time," the fox pointed out, on more than one level, "our positions are reversed."
Hiei could only stare, unable to understand the antagonism in the tone. He knew that the youko had been jealous of the time he had spent training with the flame-wielding Seishi, thinking that he would want to remain in Konan and participate in their war, but he couldn't discern what that had to do with the present.
Luckily, Tasuki didn't react badly to the veiled challenge. "I've learned a few more tricks since then," he declared. "Got myself someone to spar with full-time."
At that, Hoshi piped up, joining the conversation. "You mean Kouji-ojisan, right?" he asked innocently, completely missing the underlying currents.
"'Uncle' Kouji?" Kurama repeated, pinning the other redhead with his gaze.
The bandit flashed his fangs in amusement. "Best partner a man could want."
The youkai wriggled a little as the fox relaxed his hold, finally realizing what the interchange had been about. Kurama was warning off someone he viewed as a potential rival--though where he had gotten *that* impression, Hiei had no idea. As if he would ever have considered an involvement with anyone other than the beautiful, silly creature beside him, for whom he suffered a particular, inexplicable weakness.
Botan returned soon enough, announcing that their meal was ready. She assembled them at a long table, where they were joined by a pair of young men who bore a family resemblance to one another. Hiei narrowed his eyes. He recognized them--or at least one of them--from his stay in Konan as the youngest of the Seishi, the flute player Chiriko. Yet he had been told that Chiriko had died, and the man with the flute tucked in his belt was most certainly alive, though the same couldn't be said about his companion.
Hiei and Kurama were seated immediately across from the two. Botan arranged them so that the visitors all occupied the same side of the table, the prince safely flanked by his "uncles." Judging by the ensuing conversation, the brothers had been conferring with Koenma about the foreign god.
"Seiryuu's actions weren't malicious," the man with the flute explained. "He was furious at being sealed, and he was taking his anger out on whatever got in his way, assuming everyone to be the enemy. He had been in the middle of a battle when the Suzaku No Miko bound him, and he had no way to know how his situation had changed since then."
"How come you could control him, when we hardly dented his scales?" Kuwabara asked. Once again, Hiei wished he had been there to show them how to take care of an enraged dragon.
"I didn't, not really." The musician smiled modestly. "I am his last surviving Seishi. When I used my power, he felt its draw upon him and realized that he wasn't alone. After that, it was a matter of persuading him to trust me--not the easiest task, since I had thrown my lot in with Suzaku, but by that time he had vented a lot of his hostility."
Botan had mentioned the name of the one who had stopped the dragon; that "Kaika" must be the same person Hiei had known as Chiriko. If, as he claimed--and the others seemed to accept--he served Seiryuu, he must have been lying the first time. Lying...for what purpose?
He turned away from Kaika, his ire rising. He didn't like being tricked. He remembered the air of empathy the other had projected, which lured him into revealing more about himself than he had planned. Had that all been an act? Had the boy really meant any of the reassuring words?
He stole a glance at the ghost. Chiriko--Kaika--had spoken of his twin. The emotion he had exhibited couldn't have been feigned. That part of his story had been true, at least. Perhaps he hadn't been *entirely* dishonest in his sentiments.
The youkai returned to monitoring the discussion as Kurama seized an opportunity to join in. "What will be done about Seiryuu, now that he's free?"
The spirit took his turn answering. "Koenma-sama will send him back to Kutou, where he belongs. He was only here due to an oversight. From what I understand, because he was sealed while in the Ningenkai, the paperwork had to be routed through the Reikai for approval, and somehow it was misplaced in the confusion."
"How the hell did he break free?" Tasuki demanded.
Hiei could easily solve that riddle. They'd learn eventually anyway, and he wasn't in the mood to shelter the brat from his actions. "The kid let him out."
That caught everyone's attention. Grudgingly, in the face of their evident disbelief, he elaborated. "I tracked him leaving the room Seiryuu started from. Ask him yourself."
"Hoshi-ouji...?" Tamahome began, a prelude to interrogation.
The youkai watched the boy expertly twist the Seishi around his little fingers. Under cover of the distraction, Kurama turned to him with mischief sparkling in his eyes. "He's such a darling rascal," he said, his voice lowered. "Kind of makes you want to have one of your own."
The fire demon aimed a searing look at him that would have roasted a lesser man. "Don't even *think* about it." He briefly wondered what it must be like in the youko's mind, with odd notions constantly popping up out of nowhere, bouncing around at random, and careening off the obstacles of his human upbringing.
Kurama nudged him discreetly, already skipping ahead to a new topic. "You know," he suggested, "this might be our only chance to show the Seishi that we appreciate the gifts they gave us. You should wear your tunic for them."
"For *them*?" he repeated suspiciously. He shook his head. "Drooling doesn't become you."
"I promise I'll behave..."
"Forget it."
"Not even if--"
"No."
The redhead sighed. "You're no fun."
"Good." Satisfied that he had made his point, he concentrated on the meal, only vaguely listening to the light banter that had developed among the visitors now that the most serious issues had been settled. Across from him, Kaika also ate quietly, occasionally smiling at something one of the others said or casting glances at the opposite end of the table. He would answer any questions directed toward him, though he initiated them only with his brother.
Hiei studied the interaction between the two. They were together again, but it was too late. The younger twin had died--some time ago, it appeared. He felt a chill at the thought that his sister might be taken from him in the same way. He didn't want to, but he began to experience the sense of similarity between himself and the musician that had left him vulnerable the first time.
He had to admit that Kaika had never actually done anything to harm him. Those few shared moments of understanding had been offered with no strings attached--and, after all, it had been *Hiei* who forced the matter, out of a need he couldn't voice, even to himself. He scowled into his rice. What was wrong with the world that he couldn't stay pissed at someone who had deceived him?
As if divining his reluctant change of heart, Kaika directed his twin's attention toward the youkai. "...I never had the chance to thank him properly, but Hiei-san saved my life." He noticed the red gaze upon him and tilted his head to acknowledge it. "I only hope his days have been as full as every precious one that his actions granted me."
The fire demon blinked at the unexpected tribute. Then he made a decision. "Kurama," he said, interrupting the conversation the fox had started with Tasuki.
"Mm?"
He pointed. "Switch places."
Kurama checked his other side, smiling as he realized what he was being asked. He made the request--more politely--of his neighbor, and there was a bit of shuffling as the two exchanged spots temporarily. The Seiryuu Seishi watched the proceedings with some bewilderment.
"Kaika--or whatever your name is," Hiei began without preamble, "I want you to meet someone." After all, he reasoned, the boy had been right about her. She *had* known, in her heart, the identity of her twin.
So, perhaps, the day wasn't a total loss.
"Well, then," Tamahome said as a harried oni cleared away a stack of bowls, "are you ready to send us back?"
Botan clasped her hands in her lap. "Not...quite. There's still a certain matter to take care of." It was, in fact, the reason for their presence, but she hadn't been able to tell him yet. The circumstances hadn't been favorable while the prince was missing.
"Oh? What's that?"
"Um, actually, it's something we need your help with. It may be very difficult for you, but it is an important task." She was still tiptoeing her way around the details, in the hope that she wouldn't alienate him prematurely.
"After the trouble we've caused you..." he glanced reproachfully at his charge, "we owe you a favor or two. How can we be of service?"
"Not *all* of you," she clarified. "Just you. And it's something you'll probably want to keep private."
She could tell that she had piqued his curiosity. They excused themselves from the table and stood a short distance away, out of the others' earshot. "So," he asked, "what do you need from me?"
"You remember that I told you this is the land of the dead? That this is where your souls will travel after you die?" At his nod, she continued, "This is also where souls are judged for the deeds they committed in life."
He lowered his eyes. "You mean--are you trying to tell me that my soul is in danger?"
"No!" She hastened to dispel that notion. "No, your soul is perfectly fine so far. There *is* someone in danger, however. It's Suboshi."
He slowly raised his head to meet her gaze. "Suboshi?" She could see the tension in the set of his shoulders. "That's to be expected. He's an evil, murdering bastard."
"No, he's not!" She astonished even herself with the vehemence of her response. "Yes, he is a murderer, and that is what has put his soul in jeopardy. But he's not evil. If he were..." If he were evil, she wouldn't defend him so staunchly. She wouldn't have spent so much time and energy assisting him. She wouldn't... "If he were," she finished, "Koenma-sama wouldn't have given him this chance."
"Chance to what? Nothing he does can bring my family back to life."
"That's true," she admitted sadly. "But he can make peace with you. He wants to, if you'll let him."
"Peace?" His tone was bitter. "He doesn't want peace. He's afraid to receive the punishment he deserves. He'll do anything to escape his fate."
She didn't know what to say to change his mind. She believed in her heart that Suboshi wasn't acting out of selfishness, but she hadn't been the one to suffer at his hands. Tamahome was within his rights to refuse the offer of reconciliation. "Could you at least think about it? If not for him, then for--" she broke off. If he hadn't figured it out on his own, would she be justified in pointing it out to him? She shouldn't influence his decision unfairly, yet she couldn't let the matter drop without doing her best. Where would the world be if Death weren't persistent? "Just give him time to show you he's serious about this."
He wavered in the face of her sincerity, but in the end he remained stubbornly opposed. "I'm sorry, I can't. When the others are ready, please send us back home. The empress must be beside herself with worry over our disappearance."
She nodded an unhappy agreement. She'd go along with his wishes--until she could find a way to convince him to listen to the ghost's apology. There must be *some* argument he'd find compelling. If all else failed, she would reveal the whole truth about the Seiryuu Seishi's reincarnation.
She returned to the table, walking around to the far end where the twins were sitting. Now that the meal had ended, Kurama bid the others farewell, promising to be on hand for their departure. Then he and his lifemate took their leave. Kuwabara, despite his injuries, had offered to stay and give the Seishi a guided tour of the undamaged portions of the Reikai, no doubt seeing it as a further opportunity to impress the guests. Soon Botan was alone with the two brothers.
"It didn't go very well, I take it," Suboshi said, resigned.
"He's already made up his mind about you. But I'm not giving up yet," she assured him.
"I heard what you're doing for my younger brother," Kaika told her. "No matter how this turns out, I want you to know that I'm extremely grateful."
"It's all part of my job," she protested.
He leaned forward. "You were there for him when I couldn't be. That's something I'll never forget."
She wondered if the heat she felt was due to usurping Hiei's vacated spot.
"What happens next?" Suboshi asked, interrupting the disintegration of her thoughts.
"Well, whatever Tamahome decides, your file will have to be evaluated. After that...it's a question of waiting for Kaika to die." She brightened. "Then you'll be reincarnated, together forever. Isn't it sweet?"
The musician couldn't help laughing in response to her excitement. "That will be wonderful--when the time comes, of course." He sighed wistfully. "It's too bad he can't rejoin me now. He deserves to experience the peaceful life I'm fortunate to have."
"I could send you both to Sairou." She looked back and forth between them. "It's up to you, Suboshi. You don't have to stay here. Since his body is exactly the same as the one you lost, you could inhabit it with him, although..." She traced a finger absently along the edge of the table, working out the kinks in the plan. "You wouldn't really be conscious, as such. The body is only intended to host one of you."
The twins exchanged glances. "I'll have to think about it," the spirit replied.
She didn't blame him. It was a difficult choice. "Okay!" She rose to her feet. "I should keep an eye on the others--if they bring the rest of the place down around us, Koenma-sama will *never* let me hear the end of it!"
Hiei had the apartment to himself temporarily while Kurama went about his ningen business, after mumbling something involving being certain to prepare for seeing off their Seishi friends properly. The youkai knew exactly what he had meant by that hint. It was entertaining to watch the fox come up with new and more persuasive ways to plead his case--though that wasn't the reason he continued to refuse.
He pulled the dark object under contention from the back of the closet where he had hidden it when he first moved in, letting the fabric slide liquidly through his fingers, then brushed it against his cheek. He could still detect traces of candle smoke and the perfume of countless roses trapped in its folds.
He shook the tunic out to its full length, watching the dazzling phoenix flutter as if alive. It *did* possess life, in a way--a life he had given it, a life of memories and symbolism. He didn't even attempt a struggle before surrendering to those memories, seeing them again as clearly as when they had first been formed.
...Kurama's arms around him, the youko assuring him that his affection wasn't merely a passing fancy. He had been *positive* that Kurama couldn't truly care for him, not in any meaningful sense. What could a creature that beautiful, elegant, and accomplished possibly see in someone like him, except perhaps a challenge to conquer and discard? It had shaken him to realize the strength and depth of the other's emotions. The fox had been true to his word, never once breaking that promise, loving him with all the bountiful energy and passion his heart possessed.
...Kurama's hands helping him remove the garment, undressing him as a lover for the first time. Before that moment, he had never thought twice about revealing his body to his friend. Suddenly, a new layer of significance had been added to the act of disrobing, a new intimacy to explore. It became important that his partner wanted access to him, needed to make contact with his bare skin, found him desirable. Those hands had taught him many things since then, but that had been their most valuable lesson.
...Kurama fastening the clasp of his necklace, joining their souls into one. The smooth crystal with its etched design rested its familiar and comforting weight in the hollow of his throat. Their marriage wasn't perfect--they still had disagreements and occasionally needed time apart--but their devotion to each other remained constant. They were both certain that a lifetime together was only the beginning.
...Their discovery that the phoenix mapped the regions of his body most sensitive to the youko's physical expression of their bond. He shivered as teasing, ghostly fingers traced down his spine. He had never dreamed that the sense of touch could be so important. A brush of the lips, as light and fleeting as sakura...a gentle squeeze between clasped hands...the tickle of long hair fluttering against him...the puff of sweet, warm breath that accompanied every swiftly murmured endearment. That night he had made his claim upon Kurama, reserving his right to those priceless sensations until the end of time.
Those were private memories, meant for the two of them alone. They were *not* to be put on display for everyone to gawk at, nor were they to be trivialized on an idle whim. He didn't care how much the fox begged, he wouldn't betray those moments.
He replaced the tunic in the closet, his resolve renewed.