The Nefarious Mansion - C1

i. Visitation of an Unorthodox Kind

One of the days after Yusuke returned from Demon World, Botan had sensed the nature of the air, and everyone had left early. Clueless as the former Spirit Detective was, he and Keiko – all of a sudden – held the strangest level. It was like they were finally on the same base in the ball park. The question was which base they were on.

That question was answered that same night. Yusuke wanted it; Keiko wanted it. While still in the entanglements of a kiss, they collapsed into the bed. And so one thing led to another.

Following the experience, the both of them lay panting under the covers. The room was consumed in darkness besides the moonlight filtering through the blinds, highlighting the side of Yusuke’s face. While his eyes were slowly being persuaded to a close, he stopped and remembered something. His irises, dyed silver-blue in the deep glow, remained eerily still.

“Keiko.” His voice resided somewhere between a whisper and a clear-cut volume. Enough to be heard. Though his eyes didn’t remove themselves from the stare – not at the ceiling but through it – he could sense the form beside him watching. She was exhausted, but alert enough to listen, anyway.

Yusuke’s lips moved little, his words a hesitant spin from an alien world.

“If trouble comes looking for me once more, you’ll understand, right? You’ll understand that I do what I have to do, yeah?”

More was supposed to accompany his questions, but something prevented him from saying it. I’m technically still a demon. Powers and parts of me unable to be changed are still demon. There will always be the chance of people coming to fight me for that.

Silence gripped the inky black room with near heart-hammering tightness. The sweat beading his forehead and chest seemed heavier than ever.

Despite that, he felt a clueless air from her, one from fatigue and drowsiness and a tinge of naivety. She was immersed in satisfaction and pure happiness with the man beside her. Thus, the brunette was incapable of truly absorbing what he was saying at the moment. Technically, the ex-detective could be taking advantage of her by bringing up such significant matters now.

“Mmm. Sure. I’m really…tired.”

So the case ruled guilty. Frustrated with himself, Yusuke answered slowly and quietly, “Then go to sleep.” Firmness dripped in his suggestion, but he meant no harm by it. No longer able to keep awake, she obeyed.

Time ticked on, and with each mysterious second, his eyes drooped farther down. For some reason, he restlessly tried to foil the idea of sleep, instead fighting to grab onto thoughts that kept going and going, traveling down and down until they became a network. Along the line, he came onto a thought that he knew was important, but he struggled to hold onto it, maybe even comprehend it. Eventually, his body submitted to the call for sleep as well.

Yusuke Urameshi slipped into a dream.

The dream itself had a normal situation, but it didn’t feel like a dream. At first, there was just him (but maybe not him, maybe a sully-eyed imposter) and Kurama and Hiei and Kuwabara. The four of them were decked out with fighting gear, weapons unsheathed, and various scratches and dirt from, possibly, earlier battle. The scenes kept switching from first person – with he, the unusual Yusuke, as front row view – and third person. Surroundings quickly revealed themselves: a dome-roofed room, with a stone-tiled floor and no windows, reminding one unsurprisingly of a tournament ring. Walls were plastered with high, warm décor. Columns lined the outskirts in their expensive beauty, matching the cream lining. One chair, bolstered in expensive satin, was arranged in the corner. The room was nice, but it was definitely going to get blown up.

Out of the darkness, a challenger was stepping up to the plate. Kurama was talking about his different plants to a fairly unresponsive Hiei, but swiftly everyone paid attention as the silhouette moved into the light. The challenger revealed himself as none other than Coach Higemura, the gym class teacher who willingly tracked Yusuke down several times in sixth grade. Yusuke had always skipped gym, but Higemura vehemently fought for the student to attend. Of course, he failed in that argument. Always.

Despite the fact that Higemura was a character pulled out from the very depths of Yusuke’s memory, and despite how surprising his participation as a challenger remained, it seemed only…natural in the dream. The Yusuke imposter cringed, completely unfamiliar with Higemura, and steadied himself for a fight. Hiei, Kurama, and Kuwabara did the same.

Minutes passed, Higemura and Yusuke’s team staring each other off for entirety. Gradually, though, Yusuke experienced an epiphany, realizing that the stone-tiled floor wasn’t a floor at all, but a checkerboard. Black and red. He looked up, abruptly more furious than confused, to find that the room had disappeared and instead been replaced with just screaming yellow. The color hurt his eyes considerably, and so he decided to stay focused on the checkerboard beneath him.

He never played Checker Mania in the arcade – only sometimes in Goblin King – but seemed comfortable with it inside the dream. His team, red, consisted of at least four pieces, three arranged neatly behind him. At first he grinned and sneered at the advantages on his side of the board, but then, as though the other side were stretched over a hill, the opponent became visible across a great distance. One black piece. Then two. Then three and four. Four. Easy. Each member of his team would take each member of the opponent.

Except, just when he thought the opponent had all its pieces arranged, more showed up, lined neatly on red spaces and materializing as though glazed with light. The black pieces kept expanding and expanding, positioning themselves all across the opposite side of the board, one the length of several miles. They must’ve had thousands of opponents.

It just kept getting worse. To add to the dream Yusuke’s predicament, he glanced back over his shoulder to find the once three red pieces were now empty black spaces, entirely vanished. It was only him, fighting the world.

The scene halted. He was going to keep breathing and breathing and nothing would move. Even the molecules in the atmosphere had frozen. Contrary to the reality of the checkerboard, however, a hole in the space bubbled up, blowing to the surface. Pushing at empty air, it mounted and revealed simply a black expanse. Yet, emerging from its depths, almost sluggish in its appearance like Chu’s drunken dodging, a figure joined the dream. This one Yusuke had never seen before.

He was a tall man – maybe not as towering as Toguro but a little higher than Sensui. His hair was mid-back length and bushy, but looked cold: the color was unusual, almost purple in its blue proportions. Dark and deep, it stretched everywhere, sending layers of jags across his face, almost to the point that his eyes were hidden from view. The only evidence to the existence of the man’s optics was the clear-cut gray of his irises, so contrasting the dull scheme of his hair and clothes. His body seemed to be an entire meld: the same color and sheen for his hair, jacket, gloves, pants, and shoes. Certainly he had to be a demon, but Yusuke couldn’t decide – not even the one outside of the dream.

Slowly, this same man approached him, and if the imposter Yusuke could move, he certainly would’ve. Somehow, the individual’s presence was daunting, like standing in such an aura could induce danger.

“You’ve just gotten back from Demon World,” He cooed. He could grin very wide. “Don’t die already.”

A mock spirit gun with his finger, pointed directly at his line of vision – maybe even through it, to the Yusuke of reality on the other side. “Bang!”

A gasp hitched in his throat and the squint of his eyes flew open as his body jerked in its sprawl. Lying against soft covers, he knew the dream had died, but its effects were like a bad stench: it kept lingering. For minutes, he must’ve lied there, letting the surreal flow of the room around him turn into a boost, an authenticity check. Then, the pant of his breath slowed and the apartment sunk in: it was just a dream. Of course.

He felt the loss of a warm body beside him, a loose space. Turning his head, Yusuke gazed onto the right side of the mattress only to find the remaining press of a body into its sheets. Empty.

The question already bubbling in his brain answered itself momentarily. Out of the eerie quiet and sunshine, the shrill shriek of the teapot suddenly made to every corner of the compound. At least, it seemed that way. There was the quick rush of feet, the hurried shifting of pans to silence the object in order to let someone have a peaceful sleep. Keiko was still here. Why had he thought otherwise?

The teapot was still going off a little. He heard her grunts and noises of frustration from the other room. A smile grazed his lips.

Certainly, he thought about just lying in bed a while longer, exhausted and comfortable within the sheets, but then he recalled the dream – the images that were close to a nightmare. Should he drift back to sleep…no, he didn’t even want to think about a replay of that stupid checkerboard.

Thus, his patience broke and he crawled out of bed to dress. When he had slipped into his predictable pair of jeans and white shirt, he considered his girlfriend a couple of rooms over.
The concept of exiting the room just to speak to her, just to say anything, suddenly felt rather difficult. An incredible wall of pressure wanted to block his advancement forward, wanted to clutch his throat. He sought to believe his reactions were ridiculous, but apparently his brain knew something his heart didn’t. Just telling her “good morning” wasn’t supposed to be so…hard, yeah? What was he tying himself in knots for? Yet, just imagining it, he could see that “good morning” becoming a medium for stumbling, for the words to die in garbles that were so embarrassing and incapable he could be sick.

Just as Yusuke was considering when and how he was to slide open the door, his hand inched forward but another presence did the unmanageable for him. He was almost startled senseless when Keiko’s face, whether he was ready or not, remained poised in front of him.
“Oh, you’re awake!” She stayed standing, holding a woven tray with tea in both hands. “You’ll have to hurry. I was hoping we could visit Genkai again.”

Never mind. He needn’t worry. Plus, it was habitual that when Keiko said, “I was hoping…” she really meant, “You have no choice and need to do what I say.” Usually.

“What? Right now?”

“Yes.”

“But, a shower--”

“Well, you better take one quick,” She reprimanded, firmly set in her ways. “Come on, Yusuke. You know this is important to the both of us.”

The statement hit a weak point, causing his mind to retake a step in its thoughts. Yes, Genkai was aging. After he had heard their group would be inheriting her compound upon her…passing, something had awakened within him. The old hag…

His voice dwindled, smitten with defeat. “Alright,” He agreed, “We’ll go visit the old hag. Maybe Kurama and Kuwabara can tag along as well.




Blood, in its crimson flow, dripped from a tightly gripped hand and trailed as the figure moved. Like the split of multiple streams, its flow diverged around the curves of the appendage. He tried to hide the hand under a black sleeve with little success. How irritating. In fact, it had all been rather irritating.

Behind the form’s path, a wind stirred and howled across the dotted sidewalk. Trees swayed and buckled underneath its strength, racking against the neighboring houses. Between the thundering gales and the shaking leaves, the noise could almost make one think they were walking through Demon World. That feeling, however, remained often contradicted by the neat rows of houses, the paved asphalt streets, the occasional car driving with controlled slowness as they passed the no doubt suspicious individual.

A shadow stretched along the brick wall of the lane as the mysterious figure slipped into its opposing courtyard. With narrowed eyes, he half-ran further down the wall’s length, moving into a darker corner that allowed more hiding space from the residents. At last, able to spend some time there sitting and recovering, the black-cloaked figure leaned against the wall and allowed his body to slide down into a squat. His breathing shuddered in slight.
Out of the dim, little could be seen but a strong pair of red eyes when conveniently turned toward the left. Hiei, pulling his knees out so they were drawn close to his chest, nearly appeared as a ball in his compact sitting position. Spreading his arm across the top of his lap, he licked a couple of times, absent-mindedly, at the source of the blood running from his flesh. His tongue made a temporary clean-up of the hemic mess.

Minutes passed. Maybe even an hour. During this time, there resided only a dark look on his face. That scowl of his seemed heavier than ever.

Then, his ears sensed something that his mind, at first, could not comprehend. A rolling sound, starting distant but growing louder at a fast rate. He did not stand up: his senses were weakening, and yet he believed, in a cocky but unsurprising turn, that he could defeat the intruder in his sit against the wall, using only one hand.

He did not expect, however, the utterly sudden and abrupt burst of a human from the passage – no less, an ordinary one. There was a great gush of wind, and then, like lightning, she appeared: literally, a child on shoes with wheels. At first he wondered her a threat, considered her a partial enemy as he did to everyone, on all accounts, but then he glanced at her from the darkness. It only took a bare moment’s study of her appearance to dictate she was a silly human incapable of harm.

Angled down while in mid-air, in the process of a long, running jump, she half-landed against the metal pole several yards away. In the apparition’s eyes, she did something almost remarkable: allowed the bike piping to run underneath her feet, between the sets of ridiculous wheels on her ridiculous shoes, and skidded along the entire length of the piping. When she finished her slide, she landed easily back upon the paved courtyard. He supposed, in light of this information, the courtyard was actually a park.

But, despite her inkling of impressive – though unusual – talents, she dressed like a freak. Well, in fact, like a lot of members of the youth in the day. A large, screaming blue baseball hat with a short visor was adjusted sideways on her head, hiding peanut butter-colored hair that liked to fight for freedom underneath the cap. A tight yellow shirt and unsightly pair of bleached shorts completed the package, while her shoes were basically a solid pink pair of rain boots…with white wheels.

He could never understand the concept of humans creating so many useless, juvenile things.
He had hoped the girl would recognize him as a shady being and immediately run home, wherever she lived. Unfortunately, only the first part of his wishes was granted. Upon landing from her move and spotting Hiei against the wall, the beam spread across her face vanished. However, she did not move for a long while, only standing half-heartedly on her pair of wheel-attached shoes.
Minutes drew by, quiet whelming the area once more. Eventually, he had forgotten her presence entirely, maybe even believed the girl had left. That was when she spoke.

“Hey! What are you doing over here? You don’t look like the usual visitor.”

The Emiko hissed with frustration, thoroughly annoyed that this insolent child had to spoil everything and actually talk. He resisted a retort, however, trying not to bother with those of certain weakness.

“I’m Jun, by the way. It’s kind of a boyish name.”

He dared peer at her again this time, but only caught sight of her skewed expression: nervous and glad and confident and out-spoken all at once. Not his problem, and not in his interests.
The demon looked down once more, his patience having been tested. The cut running along the vein of his arm had started to bleed again, slowly building until it ran down, off his skin. There was a single drop, falling and settling onto the material of his cloak. That would leave a stain.

“You’re bleeding!”

He only recognized that the pitiful girl had approached him even closer and dared to notice the red collecting across his arm when he decidedly “teleported” from the scene. Really, he only leapt and sprinted away with such rapidness that, to the human, it was almost as though he had vanished. The single thing to assure Jun she was not going insane was the dust spinning in the now warm spot on the concrete.

Afternoon loomed in the sky.




Kurama – no, Shuichi Minamino sat lounging in the office chair rolled into the main living room. Though his sitting position naturally had a staunch, formal air, with crossed legs that yet again allowed people to mistake him for a girl, he seemed fairly comfortable that morning. Comfortable enough to eat breakfast in his lap while watching tennis with his younger brother. Well, his stepbrother found most TV sports boring, and so he instead played the new football handheld he got for Christmas.

“And Monica Seles returns the fire with an equally fierce volley. Asori has trouble with it, but manages to pull out. The score is still 5 to 4.”

The both of them were relatively quiet, only listening to the announcer’s dull commentary on the television and also the plentiful calls of the birds outside. The other Shuichi, the one of no blood relation to their mother, sat crunched against the front of the sofa, intent in the tiny pixel screen. Neither them really made a word, just sounds describing their actions: the distant clicking of the game, the idle scraping of Kurama’s chopsticks as he picked up leftover tamagoyaki. The both of them seemed to be in separate, spaced-out or otherwise absorbed realms. Kurama himself nearly slipped into a daze while mindlessly watching the two tennis players on the screen.

That was, he nearly slipped into a daze. All at once, something came to his attention, as clear to him as maybe a gunshot in perfect silence. A part of the background noise increased then died abruptly, leaving the atmosphere to feel even quieter. The birds. They had squawked and flown away.

Even before he moved his eyes, however, he had a certain guess as to who had arrived. Sure enough, as his head turned toward the left window, he found one darkly-cloaked, three-eyed demon leaning against the tree outside his door.

The scarlet eyes, darker than usual, stared back with a sure recognition. Kurama froze momentarily, but, in turn, curled up the edges of his mouth in a smile.

“Shuichi,” He said, addressing his brother without deserting much attention from Hiei. “Can you please unlock our window and let our guest in?”

The request was a rather odd one, but Shuichi was much too occupied with his game than to half-heartedly nod and comply. When he had approached the window and realized what he was doing, however, a gasp hitched in his throat at the strange characteristics of the visitor. After hesitating, he nonetheless unhooked the window and pulled it open. The apparition jumped forward, entering the room with incomprehensible speed.

Hiei, in his observation, noticed the tennis match playing in front of the duo. Blinking with disregard, he spat in his rasp undertone, “Human television. How utterly useless,” before turning to Kurama again. His hands were stuffed into their pockets, his form giving off tension-filled air, as per usual.

The stepbrother backed up against the wall a little, suspicious of the man’s ominous appearance. “Shuichi!”

“Don’t worry. He’s an old friend of mine. He’ll do no harm in this household.”

Shuichi picked up the well-placed “in this household” at the end of the reassurance, but nodded anyway. He hesitated in even just stepping sideways before he sank to the floor, scooting himself closer to a corner. He winced and engrossed himself in his handheld.

“So, Hiei, what brings you here?” His intentions were purely content and well-mannered. Under a stranger’s entry, his tone would’ve changed into a questioning attitude akin to interrogation. Hiei, however, was no stranger.

“I’m perfectly allowed to visit, am I not?”

The green eyes widened then lowered again. Hiei was looking away.

“That’s hardly like you,” Kurama admitted, turning in his chair. “Certainly, if you’ve come at such an unforeseen time, I imagine you have a reason. Otherwise, you’d be very out of character.”

The fire demon gritted his teeth, feeling his blood boil in irritation. Sunlight from the window shone on his back, immersing his front in a kind of dim or shadow. Still, his reactions were predictable and easy to read. He faced Kurama directly, his form already stiffening.

“If you must know, Shuichi,” He began, the use of his friend’s human name a sarcastic and bold attack, “I do have a reason, and I assure you you’ll want--”

The phone rang. The both of them, finding the timing odd, halted and clenched their bodies at the noise. Both heads turned, staring at the phone only a few feet away in unison. Despite the fact that they were in the middle of a perhaps significant discussion, Kurama turned and answered. Hiei reluctantly closed his mouth, having been stopped mid-sentence.

“Ah, Keiko. Yes, it’s Kurama. How are you and Yusuke?”

Hmph. Small talk is called such for a reason, Hiei suddenly thought, turning to the left only to find the TV playing the tennis match. He merely glared.

“Oh really? That’s good to hear.”

A pause this time as Keiko was probably explaining something on the other line.

“Certainly. I’m glad you called. Two o’ clock, then?"

“Alright. Thank you again.”

He lowered the phone and blankly set it back down within its tray. Swiftly, Kurama drew his attention back to Hiei once more, but this time there was a genuine, nonetheless uncanny smile on his face.

“What?”



“A human pet store. How exciting. I always wanted to observe the suffering of Living World’s organisms.”

His voice was entirely sarcastic. In fact, Hiei was already loathing this…shopping trip with every fiber of his being. Kurama had a distinct feeling Hiei hated how humans domesticated and trapped animals in cages, maybe even personally connected with their anguish.

The two approached the shoddy store and entered, Hiei albeit more unwillingly. When Kurama had slipped in and headed straight for the inner aisles, however, he figured he might as well not delay. His comrade had successfully dragged him into this.

The interior was nothing to gleam at. Some might appreciate it, but certainly he didn’t: it had the feel of a shack, having been built of nicely glazed but still repetitive wood. It looked, quite simply, old. In spite of that, there were modern appliances and some commercial elements, all seemingly fighting against the outdated design. A trustworthy air did envelop the overall look, especially when the elderly man working the counter greeted, “Hello folks! Welcome to Yamada’s!”

Yamada’s quickly lost Hiei’s trust, however, when he followed Kurama as he trailed to the back of the store. Passing the low shelves, he caught sight of rodents sniffing at the plastic edges of their pens, lizards utterly enclosed, and sometimes even tanks with as many as ten frogs in one twelve by twelve inch enclosure. That was no way to live: ensnared and so poorly treated.

After some quick glances, he tried to put his disinterest on full blast, ignoring the cages altogether as he walked forward. The animals were probably mindless, anyway: he cared for creatures little, especially the dim ones of Living World.

He caught up with the red-haired teen that was busy, apparently, leaning over an icebox-like tank and staring at the several fish inside. The specimens were large, varying extremely in color but not much in size or anatomy. Some were orange-spotted, others black, some a mixture of wild shades. Otherwise, a lot of them had a few similar characteristics: long fins and barbels, well-shaped tails, and narrow, hardy bodies.

Their faces were reflected in the tank’s lit surface: Kurama’s a content, polite expression while Hiei’s was collected, thoroughly bored and thoroughly annoyed. Yet, they seemed to be the perfect pair: opposite, but thinking on the same page. Ripples broke the image of their expressions, the wandering of the fish being caught by Kurama’s gentle eyes.

“Dare I ask what these are?” Hiei stuffed his hands into the pockets of his cloak.

“Koi fish, or Nishikigoi.” Before Hiei could protest or inquiry about what they were exactly doing, Kurama added in his delicate tone, “I’m buying one for Genkai on the way to our visit.”

“Our?” Hiei repeated.

“Yes, our. That is, you do want to check on Yukina, don’t you?”

A quiet struck the air. The humming of the tank seemed louder, the meek splashes of the koi radiating throughout the store. Hm! I could visit her any time I wanted – and without her knowing, He thought, but decided not to say. Lately, Kurama had learned to hold all the right cards, had figured out how to mentally poke at Hiei. He had always been like that, but never so profusely - until now.

“In any case,” He retorted, straying from the topic a little, “hurry it up, will you? It smells wretched in here.”

The man working the store at the moment finally reached them, approaching with a sloppy pace to aid in their buy. “Can I help you? Looking to buy a koi fish?”

“Yes.” Kurama moved from his slight hunching, observing look to a proper stand. “I’d like to buy one, if you don’t mind.”

“Which one?”

He needn’t have asked. Kurama turned and easily located the fish by sight before pointing. “May I purchase this one, please?”

The man agreed, nodding and pulling out a plastic tub and net. The rest was a jumble: a flurry of polite words exchanged, a couple of minutes to fill the tank, scoop the fish, and make sure everything was accounted for. They migrated over to the front counter eventually, where Kurama paid for the pet and said his brief thanks. The two exited in a mutual silence. Now Minamino was handling a bag over his shoulder and, in his hands, a large book and a container. He held the container delicately.

Hiei wondered dully what giving a fish meant, but didn’t care. When they had arrived at the train station, he chose to simply run to the woodland house instead of ride in the train and be surrounded by too many human presences. On foot would be faster for him, anyway.



He arrived sooner than Kurama, of course, at the strike of one o’ clock. He did not enter at first, though, instead straying to the trees and remaining hidden in their shadows. From far away, he watched, judging the scene and trying to decide where his interest level stood in involvement with the house. He had considered what the point was of visiting, other than following his…friend in meeting the group. However, there had resided some possible need for participating in a reunion. That sword-wielding fool had been hanging around Yukina frequently from the beginning, and he didn’t like the idea of the buffoon associating himself so much with her.

Also, he wouldn’t dare admit it, even to himself, but he was worried for her safety out of some…brotherly instinct. He wanted to check up on her, make sure she was all well and, certainly, still not looking for her “long lost brother”.

Several minutes passed in which he leaned against the far branch of a tree, comfortably reclined in its leafy crown. Then, he felt the approach of a mingled energy, human and demon, perhaps more, and heard voices over a great distance. Two energy sources: the other presence trailed beside the strongest, a weak, pathetic human, devoid of any power. Hiei knew who they were before he even recognized their tones.

“We’re going to be late!”

“Relax, Keiko, we left on time.”

“What do you mean, we left on time?! We nearly missed the train!”

“Well, it’s not your fault.”

“Yes, exactly! It’s your fault, Yusuke!”

“What? It’s my fault?!”

“Come on, your shower was too long! I told you to take one quickly.”

Yusuke and that woman of his. Even now, Hiei could hear the tapping of their footfalls on the staircase leading up to the compound.

The ex-detective sneered, resisting the urge to retort despite the excellent comeback he had cooking in his mind. He knew better, fortunately: getting on Keiko’s bad side was never a good idea, especially when they were visiting the fossil. She was always nagging about “good behavior as guests”.

Tch, yeah right, He thought, rolling his eyes and moodily shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. I’ll start acting like a guest when grandma treats me as one. Hell, she still acts like I’m a delinquent or something.

Soon enough, the both of them finished their climb of the stairs and walked toward the house. Passing the tiny gardens, they took the opportunity to enter through the open sliding doors, greeted by the dim only made via lack of fluorescent lighting. Genaki and Yukina were both enjoying tea inside, sitting on the floor with their legs tucked underneath them and cups clasped in both hands.

As soon as the two of them arrived, Yukina set down her own cup before carefully jumping to her feet. She was adorned in a long robe, off-white and almost reaching her toes. In her excitement, she nearly sprinted over to the two, ending her run in a hug close to a pounce upon Keiko.

She let go in good time, however, adding in a soft, enthusiastic voice, “I’m so glad you came!” She stepped aside a little, letting Yusuke and Keiko make themselves at home. “It’s been quite lonely.”

“Huh? I thought Kuwabara comes over to visit you,” Yusuke asked, still standing while Keiko quietly joined Genkai in tea.

“Yes, that’s true,” She replied, and the two of them stepped forward to participate with the whole group in drink. “Kuwabara had a school trip, though, but I imagine he’ll come to visit today. He was supposed to come back this morning.”

The three knelt by Genkai, forming a kind of lop-sided square around the smaller table. Yukina returned to her former spot and smiled thoughtfully before picking up her tea once again. Genkai, still in remarkable health, seemed to give off a cool air, almost an energy that calmed everyone’s spirit. Though he despised happy nature reserves, Yusuke admitted he found the compound and its location somewhat soothing.

“Well, we’re all here now,” She greeted at last, setting her mug back upon the table’s edge. “At least, a good portion of us.”

“Where is everybody, anyway? You’d think they’d hurry up and get here.”

The old woman’s face, sallow-skinned, turned to Yusuke in an indifferent and completely plain manner. “You’re early, of course. It’s only one o’ clock.”

“What? Are you serious?”

“Yes. It’s only two twenty at the moment,” She affirmed, closing her eyes as though to block out the brainlessness of her student. Out of Yusuke’s stupefied quiet came only nervous laughter that belonged to Keiko Yukimura.

Their relations suddenly went awry once more. Yusuke, noticing his girlfriend’s guiltiness, turned an angry eye upon her. That, however, was not a smart gesture to make: at the instant she recognized his toothy glare, she could’ve burst into flames.

“Don’t look at me like that!”

“Oh, like what?” Urameshi chided, looking as though he were about to bite a head off any moment now.

“Like that!”

“Ho-ho, how descriptive! I thought you were in high school, Keiko!”

At that impromptu moment, her hand collided in a sweeping knock with the topmost of his head, just in time for a very good counter-argument. “You’re not in school!” She did have an excellent point.

“HEY! I’m waiting for this year to finish up, thank you!”

“Yeah, but you could at least sign up for summer’s classes and then apply for sophomore or junior year! I mean--”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” His voice suddenly warped into a mocking Keiko tone, unnecessarily high-pitched. “Then I could at least skip freshman year, yadda yadda. Quick nagging me.”

“Nagging! It’s for your own good!”

“My good?!”

From there, the argument escalated as the two drifted into their own blood-drenched, fire-breathing world, forgetting about the very fact that they were, indeed, guests within Genkai’s household. Yukina, bumbling with fright, leaned toward the two and attempted some sort of protest, but neither of them heard her quiet objection in the heat. Her speech was certainly too meager, the complete opposite of Yusuke’s.

“Let them be, Yukina. There’s no stopping them,” Genkai told her, still sitting formally in front of the table, sipping her tea. She reacted almost as though the fierce blood bath going on in the room wasn’t occurring at all.

Among the yelling and utterly stupendous threshold of anger going on between Yusuke and Keiko, those paying attention could hear more hurried footsteps outside. Yukina’s eyes widened, and, sure enough, two seconds later one heavily sweating, orange-haired junior had burst into the compound.

Kuwabara.

“Yukina, my love, I’ve come!” He cried without hesitation. Both Yusuke and Keiko halted their fight to stare at the friend whom entered. Worse, however, Kuwabara didn’t even bother with his old school friends at all. Rather, he slipped right away to Yukina’s side, dropped to his knees, and grasped her hands. Though surprised as she was, she had become somewhat used to Kuwabara’s strange welcomes.

“Yukina, dear, let’s get married.”

In his eyes, he was being entirely serious. Yusuke, however, blinked at the scene for several moments before helplessly roaring out in laughter.

Kuwabara bolted his head over to the half-demon and was perhaps seconds away from pummeling him to the ground. “WHAT, URAMESHI?! WHAT’S SO FUNNY?!”

“I’d have to guess your proposition, fool.”

All eyes turned to the source of the ever familiar snide remark, finding one grumpy, careless Hiei leaning against the east wall. His attitude hadn’t changed much. Kuwabara seemed to believe so, anyway.

“There’s just no hope for your intelligence level, is there?”

“HIEI!” He hollered, abruptly shooting up to a stand. His hands, once clutched over Yukina’s, were now fists steadied in front of his lividly shaking body. Every part of him seemed to be overwhelmed with a rage beyond anything he’d recently experienced. “It was about time you showed up, you scrawny shrimp! I was waiting for your sorry hide to come here and ruin everything between me and Yukina!”

“Hmph. I’d say you’re ruining that yourself.”

“WHAT?!”

Kuwabara had ended up clutching the collar of Hiei’s cloak in a blind rush of fury, seemingly forgetting what Hiei’s Dragon of the Darkness Flame had done to numerous people on numerous occasions. Instead, he rolled the fabric over his fist as he grabbed harder, lifting Hiei’s body slightly upwards even though the Emiko kept completely motionless, not desiring to waste his time with the buffoon.

The one thing that hinted Kuwabara that Hiei’s patience was wearing, however, was the dangerous narrowing of a ruby eye. Kuwabara did not take the hint.

Yusuke jumped up and positioned himself behind the two, trying to worm his way into what little space they didn’t share. “Children! Do you mind?!”

“Not again…”

“Stop it, you idiots!” Genkai broke out. She had moved to a stand as well, her legs perfectly shoulder-width apart and her arms tucked behind her back. An all-powerful authority dripped in her voice, one that no one in the room wanted to experience or be the spectacle of. “This is pointless. If you all want to be jackasses together, then do it somewhere else and spare an old hag some of your crap. She’s tired of dealing with it.”

Kuwabara turned around to the elderly woman and pointed with exasperation at the Hiei still being held against his will. “But--!”

She did not respond, only stared back at him with every inch of firmness. Her expression said it all: “Don’t object, or you can be sent all the way back down those stairs.”

After a grit of his teeth, Kuwabara resisting the need to protest, he finally sighed and opened his hand. Hiei, released from the grip, stared with mixed impatience and pity at the other while adjusting the layered neck of his cloak.

“Grandma…”

It was Yusuke, giving some type of partly anguished mutter concerning the reference to her old age.

“Ha! Going to give me a pity party now, are we?”

Exhaling, the ex-detective rubbed at his forehead and front of his hair in a frustrated, almost self-critical motion. He growled at nothing in particular before half-grumbling, “Alright…”

“There. Now let’s figure out something decently entertaining to do,” She replied, pursing her lips.

There were short agreements, with Yusuke once more stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans and Kuwabara returning to Yukina. Keiko mumbled something about wishing Botan was here before joining a conversation that had already began to erupt between the five of them. Hiei walked toward the group, but made no attempt to pick up in the interaction.

He had a feeling…

The sliding door, having been closed when Kuwabara made his entry, opened once more. Everyone – if not most of the group – turned heads to welcome Kurama.

When their eyes met the guest, however, they found not Kurama, but a hunched-back demon with a crazed sheen to his face.