Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Prelude 

Humans.

Demons.

Competing for an absent father’s attention. 

How little they understand

Merely pawns in a greater war. 

We watch them devour each other on the board 

Waiting.

Chapter One: Birth of the Cruel

Demon World: Sometime during the 1920s

The red sky scorched. The sounds of flames crackling over wood and brush echoed for miles; about as far as the last of the Nisshoku pack fled before the taste of burning flesh that ate away at the back of her throat, finally made way to her overachieving lungs. The new sensation seized her senses and all it took was a poorly (or intentionally) placed root from the black tree to send her tumbling down a hill of thorns from a sea of unnatural red roses. 

She tensed her arms around the small body that was seemingly fused to her chest as she fell. The skin of her exposed arms and legs frayed like ribbons, sprinkling her olive skin with small cuts until her body finally ended its descent against a black tree that scraped the bleeding sky. Her entire body felt like shattered glass. Her skull pulsating, but she didn’t go black. Bile climbed her throat and burned the already wounded flesh with more fire. 

She sputtered a curse toward the sky from two chapped lips. Panting, she looks down at the child cradled in her bruised arms. Her breathing was alarmingly slow and strained. The older woman’s black hair cascaded like a still waterfall around her younger companion- as if a barrier meant to shield her tiny form. Had the child’s eyes been open, she would be gifted with the force of calmness from two familiar brown iris’ that had always-including this moment- been so assured and confident. Everything a lost six-year-old needed to feel safe.

But those eyes were mere buttons about to burst, taking apart the whole woman with them. And in turn…

A sharp snap alerted the wolf-demon to three disgustingly human scents that invaded her heightened nostrils and momentarily overpowered the smell of her fallen pack’s flesh. 

“I told you I saw one running this way.”

“Who grows roses in this shit hole?”

“Shut up,” a hoarse voice scolded from entirely too close to the woman’s ears. 

Did they come from behind? She silently chastised herself for her lack of awareness. 

“Why?!” The second voice exclaimed as he navigated the thorny death trap, judging from the expletives that followed. 

“We don’t want to alert any other survivors to her whereabouts,” a pause, “Good work, J, on tracking the bitch- she's the one who took out five of our men.”

“Yes, sir. She isn’t lookin’ too good.” The first voice approached her left; she kept her eyes locked on the child. 

One on her left.

One on her right. 

One in front. Landing on his feet. 

Her panting gave her life away. Her demon energy spent on the aforementioned five men adorning blue uniforms. Five men that had taken out ten women and children each, after their friends executed the men in front of their wives and children. She shudders and shuts her eyes. Her leg was contorted in a form unnatural to her being. 

And they know it. 

Their footsteps danced around her. Their voices lowered. Wondering what to do first, perhaps? Have their way with what was left of her body, like so many before them did to her friends. Before slitting their throats or burning them alive. 

She could still hear them screaming. A curse passed down from her species. What big ears you have…  

“Please,” she managed to stutter past the desert that befallen her mouth. All three sets of footsteps immediately halted. “Please, spare the child.” She coughed to a chorus of laughter. 

She raised her head despite her neck protesting any and all movements. The three of them lacked the ruggedness in their smooth faces that comes with being soldiers of death. Two had matching jester smiles. The one to the right of her, however, whose eyes had sunk into a narrow smirk that matched his smile. He was the orchestrator of death. 

He meets her eyes. “The child?” He mocked as he slowly approaches the pair on the floor, taking a knee directly in front of them. 

Her brain kept yelling demands to her legs, which twitched pathetically as the human placed a knee directly between them. Rocks had formed in her lungs in the absence of fresh air. And had there been any water left in her body, maybe she could have cried. Instead she hoped her body would turn to dust and merge with the ash that had once been her family. 

Freedom.

She could muster a smile if the captain wasn’t so close she could feel the heat radiate off his skin. 

Sick.

She wanted to be sick. 

“That child,” his voice crackles like wood aflamed, “is the reason we bothered with your pack.” He points a thick finger at the package nestled against her body. “If it wasn’t for her, we probably wouldn’t have even bothered.” 

She knitted her eyebrows; her face flushed. 

“Someone,” he continued, “wanted her enough they paid over one million yen. One million- that’s how much your people were worth.”

Her arms faltered ever so slightly. He moves his index finger directly to her forehead. “Sorry to say, you on the other hand, are worth nothing. The warmth of his kai washed over her. A small blue light shun from the tip of his fat, ugly, finger. 

She could laugh if she had any will left. 

Then she closed her eyes, expecting the darkness to last...forever.

Chapter Text

Chapter Two: No One Knows

Their screams tore through the air. The familiar sound of metal against bone; guttural, yet...refined. Warm liquid splashed against her face, adding another hue of red to the black and blues of her tan canvas. She felt the earth shake even before her would-be executioners fell to the floor.

She waited... for the death cries to evaporate in the wind. For the sounds of flesh being torn apart like paper to subside into sounds rushing blood. And then after, waited for the new intruders to make the presence known. Instead, silence. The hum of the distant fire fading. She slowly opened one eye- the one that cemented shut with a layer of human blood. Where the leader of the human murderers had once been with his sardonic eyes and index finger was a child. A child no older than the tiny girl in her arms with almond shaped eyes that matched the demon world sky. He stood over her, unflinching, holding a sword taller than he, covered in fresh kill. His cape moved violently against the wind. The dark circles under his red and small scowl clashed with the smooth, young lines of his face. 

She was engrossed in his form- the confusion it brought- that she neglected the two men that stood just a few yards behind him, on either side, whose silver attire were free of blood despite the mangled corpses lying at their feet.   

“How is she looking, Hiei?” The gentleman on the right of her asked. She darted her eyes to the new stranger. He stood firm like a young tree, with brown wild hair that almost swallowed two dog years. A tail whipping at flies and insects that dared get too close. He was lean, all muscle, like most of the canine demons. But his eyes...green, seemed to glow against the muted sun. 

“They,” the boy corrects, “there’s two. One’s a child.”

The dog demon snaps his head to the other man and she follows. 

Her blood runs cold. A nightmare stands off to the side, towering over his kill like a giant. A cautionary bedtime story her father would tell the children over the fire. His long silver hair barely acknowledges the wind as if weighed down by its own length. Golden eyes permanently narrowed stare right into her very core igniting both fear..and comfort. She always thought this was how a natural death felt. Warm like an embrace and cold like hell. All at once. 

“We have to take them,” the dog demon declared.

“Do we now?” His voice was low, chilling. 

“She has a child with her-”

“They brought humans too close,” he finally moved his eyes to meet the dog, “are you suggesting we endanger the few numbers we have for a foolish wolf and her pup?”

“And are you suggesting we leave them here to die?”

“We could end their suffering.” 

The dog demon didn’t seem shocked by this worrisome declaration. He shook his head, “You’ve grown cold in your old age, Youko-”

The silver haired demon snapped through clenched teeth, “what did I say-” He paused and moved his arms over his chest. Slowly. Regaining his emotionless composure. 

Eclipsed by the infamous thief, Youko Kurama, she failed to notice the young boy moved closer, bending down to get a better look at the small pile of skin and bone in her arms. He reached to touch her inflamed arm that blistered and boiled before him, but was snatched by her protector. 

“What is she?” Hiei asked. 

“E-e-excuse me?” She tripped over her own words, unable to bring them above a whisper. 

“She is not one of you,” he states flatly, pointing to her canine ears without looking away from the child’s arm. “What is she?”

She sat up straight, trying to muffle a groan from her lips,  and regained what little dignity she had left, “you’re right, she is not a wolf, but she is my sister all the same.”

“Hrm,” Youko sighed, “Leave it to a wolf demon to adopt a human.”

“She is not a human, either!” She attempted to muster some fire in her voice,  but settled for a whine as her vocal cords protested their use. 

“We do not have the privilege of debating that at this location,” the dog jumped in, now looking back towards the smoke, his hair bristling. “The screams have stopped- they could be on the move.”

“Then let's make haste and dispose of them before we are discovered,” Youko paused, “ Jameson .” 

  “So now we kill our own kind!” Jameson seethed. 

“You spoke my name to her. Their blood can be on your hands now.”

“Pathetic,” Hiei’s voice sounded like pebbles trying to be boulders, as he captured the two fueding demons wavering attention. He never pulled his gazed from the young girl, as he directed his impatience to the fox demon. He reached again for the girl, this time her sister didn't move. “I’ll take her. You have a bone sticking out of your leg…” he stated matter-of-factly, “James will carry you.”

“Will he now?” Youko betrays himself with a snicker, “Are our new guests blessed with names or shall we call them female and child?”

Hiei doesn’t acknowledge the older man’s taunt. “What’s her name?”

She paused. Hiei, the small child with red eyes that smelled of fire and whose skin was ice, showed no fear of the seven-foot tall, 300 year old, bandit- whose mere name sent shivers down the spine of even the most battle hardened demon. 

And with the captain words swimming through her head. Her packs blood still fresh upon her hands…

“Ophelia,” she finally whispered, “My name is Kira.”

“Hn,” Hiei gathered the child into his arms, easily despite their similar size, “nice name.”

She smiled as she let go.

Chapter Text

The village was nestled in the center of a neutral territory- an non-verbal agreement amongst the demon tribes that settled there to stay out of each other’s business. No overpowered demon lords to establish rules and regulations, that they themselves would see fit to break if the occasion called for it. Just a handful of tribes, or packs, turned villages with their own honor code. The Nisshoku pack, composed exclusively of wolf demons, owned the smallest area deep within the black forest. They occupied their little nook for generations and never attempted to establish communication with the fairly new cluster of demons who took up shop a mere two miles from them. For their own self-preservation? Perhaps. 

Not that it mattered anymore. 

Two miles from home, Kira finally opened her brown eyes and was met with the ceiling of a manka as opposed to the bleeding red sky. Her heart started to race as her brain attempted to piece together how she came upon this strange scenery. But all she was granted was murky memories of the black woods that surrounded her pack, red eyes, silver hair. The fire and her sister in her arms. 

Ophelia

She tries to feel for her tiny adopted sibling, but is met with the air of emptiness. Frantic, she jumped up- mistake.

She heard the crack simultaneously as she felt the rush of pain shoot from her left leg, up her spine, to her mouth which let out a brutal scream. She collapsed onto the floor, trying to keep herself from blacking out again. Coldness enveloped her as sweat fell profusely from her head. Panting heavily she dared to look at her leg. 

“I wouldn’t look if I was you,” the voice was calm. She snapped her head towards the doorway as the tall, brown haired, dog demon walked through holding a bowl of hot water. 

Kira took a deep breath, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall, “Is it bad?”

James sighed, “Yes. We are going to have to reset it again.” He knelt next to her, gently guiding her body to lay upon the mattress. “It’s a weak bone. Have you broken it before?”

“Yes,” she clenched her teeth, “fell out of a tree when I was younger. I don’t think it ever healed right.”

“No kidding,” he handed her a stick, “Don’t take this offensively; it’s for you to bite on.”

She wanted to laugh through the pain. How many humans used to throw sticks at their canine demon-slaves, regardless if they were dogs or wolves? Not that the humans could tell the difference. They are raised now to see the stick as yet another example of repulsive human behavior. She placed the stick in her mouth and could almost hear in the back of her mind, her father sigh at the sight of her. Brown stick in her mouth, cut and bruised, with a bone sticking out of her leg for the second time in….how many hours have it been? Or days? 

“Okay, I’m going to count to three…”

He was lying and she knew. But she nodded as she tried to relax, closing her eyes and trying to pull a happy memory. Gardening in their territory with Farore-san, a statuesque wolf demon, whose raven hair reached to her ankles when allowed to bellow in the wind- but when she tended to the never ending garden, she gathered her locks into a firm bun. You must be alert, Kira she would say even when working with the flowers. 

“One…”

Everything grew from their demon energy. Placing their hands over the seedlings, and channeling their ki, they brought them to life. They grew food in the dead of winter, herbs with medicinal purposes that kept them from succumbing to a plethora of elements. Male, female, child, all trained in how to bring greenery to life with as much intensity as they were trained to kill. Farore-san was in charge of training them. Kira admired her as she would a mother and longed for the day she could take up the mantle of healer. To be a protector. 

“Tw-”

Snap . 

She screamed through the stick in her mouth. James tried to hush the writhing wolf as he wrapped the wound tightly. “I’m sorry, I really am. This isn’t strong material either. I can not stress the importance of not moving for a while.”

Kira spits the stick from her mouth, sitting up as if his words meant nothing, “Where’s my sister?” 

“She’s in a different room. Healing. Her burns are bad.” James winced as he tightened the wrapping; more so from the look the wolf demon was giving him. He swore, if she could move another inch, she would have strangled him. Instead, she sat there panting. Sweat caked over her body, soaking through the bandages around her torso. 

“I want to see her,” Kira started to feel dizzy. All the pain washing over her body was causing a shut down. She also finally took notice of the burning sensation coming from her lungs. Burns, fire. Her garden was engulfed in flames. Farore-san’s body hanging from the tree- gutted. 

Kira fell back. Lights out again.

James exhaled. He took a look around the room. Red bandages littered the wooden floor, a testament to the hours spent trying to stop the bleeding from her head. How she was able to remain conscious was a reminder of her resilience. The fractured plants that rested in the corner of the otherwise bare room had to be pulverized into an elixir to help any of the internal bleeding she had sustained on her fall through the rose bushes. They also provided a reminder of how little they had left to last the winter. The cold air was already starting to whip through the small village and with it, the fearful whispers from the forty occupants. He looked back at her leg. The white bandage hid the purple bruise that was forming and he hoped her body had enough strength to fight off a brewing infection. 

He didn’t need another amputation on his conscience. 

Heavy footsteps head towards the pair. James began clearing the room when Youko entered, taking an inventory of the situation with his cold gaze. 

“She’s still out or are you knocking her out?”

“I don’t have enough herbs to keep her under,” Jammes grunted, “she’s in a lot of pain and her body needs to heal itself. We need the medicine anyway for our own people...and don’t say it.”

Youko laughed, “I said nothing. It’s your conscience that betrays you.”

“My conscience would have been truly dead if we left those girls to their death. As would have yours.”

The pair fall silent.  The commotion from outside the room seeped into their private area. Men fighting amongst themselves. Their muffled voices sound all the same. Their songs the same sad tune it has been for the last month. Supplies were low. The chill of the coming winter knipping at their heels. And them . The humans. The humans responsible for the two new orphans. Or different humans. Didn’t matter- the result was the same. 

More bodies to feed.

More bodies to bury. 

‘How many are we now, James?” Youko’s voice sounded sincere. 

“Ten men, seven children, twenty women…?”

“Eight,” Youko corrects, “or nine if you are forgetting Hiei as you often do.”

“Nine children and twelve men.” James shook his head, “Forgot us.”

“Always thinking of others,” Youko snickered. 

“I know you are trying to take the piss outta me,” James snapped back, “but you are our fearless leader. You lead by example. The men out there all adorn your robes as a sign of their loyalty, to their savoir- the great-”

“Alright, alright,” Youko waved him off, “I struck a nerve.”

James curled his lips, biting his tongue to hold back the onslaught of insults. Instead, he took a breath. “What are we if we do not protect our own.”

Youko contemplated those words. Three-hundred years walking this world and only in the last five did he show compassion for the rest of his species. He couldn’t recall the exact moment, when the thieving bandit dropped the bag of gold to help a weaker demon. Maybe it was longer than five years ago. Maybe it was when he found a wounded dog in a bear-trap fighting to rip off the metal clamps that held his leg in place. Maybe it was those big, pathetic, green eyes wide with fear that melted some of the ice that had surrounded his heart. Alone for years, he had asked himself the same question when met with another choice. Save the dog or put it out of his misery. 

“I’m taking the men on a raid,” Youko said finally, “we need a big bounty if we intend on not losing anyone this winter. I would like to avoid last year's situation.” 

“All the men?” James asked as he tossed the corpses of plants into a jar, hoping to recycle them. Youko offered a grunt of acknowledgement. “Are you taking Hiei? I could actually use his assistance.”

Youko laughed gently, which sounded almost sinister from lack of practice. “He’ll be staying behind. He’s entertained by the new child in our care.”

-

Hiei sat in the corner of a small room that could barely be called a closet. His sword close to his side and his eyes on the small body feet away from him. He watched the rise and fall of her chest evenly for sometime. She was serene. The bandages on her legs and arms the only proof of the tragedy that had befallen her. Her head was lulled to the side, black stringy hair falling over her smooth face. Her “sister’s” body had absorbed the brunt of the thorns, leaving her mostly unscathed. How...lucky.

“My hands hurt,” her small voice barely registered above the commotion coming from the opposite side of the closed sliding door that separated them from the rest of the world. Hiei knitted his eyebrows together- when did her eyes open? He could hardly see the whites of her eyes from under her hair, but he swore they were closed a second ago. He could feel her gaze on him; the hair on the back of his neck stood at attention. She’s curled in a fetal position upon a white pile of blankets- a pathetic excuse for comfort. He heard whimpers coming from her pathetic form- still, he hesitated. 

“What happened to your hands?”

“I don’t remember.” 

Hiei frowned and took a seat next to her. He can’t make out her face under her hair, but he still felt those eyes on him. A blanket draped upon her shivering body covered the rest of her. He recalled the journey back to the village. She had been asleep. Or seemingly asleep, as he carried her through booby-trapped forest. She didn’t even stir as they walked past Youko’s carnivorous plants that surrounded the outskirts of the village and would devour any intruder in their hidden jaws lined with jagged teeth the color of bone. They snapped and raged towards the two new guests- only holding themselves back when they sensed the energy of their master and cohorts. Kira had almost woken up from the sounds of their bites alerting her animalistic instinct; she trashed in James arms before her body gave out again. 

Ophelia slept. 

“Do you remember how you got here?” He continued.

“Where’s sister?” She shifts under the blanket. 

“In another room.” He stated flatly. 

“Why?”

“Because Youko wanted it that way.”

“Why?”

“Don’t do this.”

She giggled. A reaction that startled him. He cocks his head to the side. “You think this is funny?”

There’s a long pause. Heavy footsteps walk past the room without stopping. More muffled orders being shouted. He even picks up on a shrill female voice calling after the army of footsteps that fade into the distance. Silence didn’t follow. Instead cautious whispers wrapped in anxiety seeped through the cracks in the wood. 

Ophelia moved her arm out of the blanket and extended her hand towards Hiei, never moving her head. “It feels like fire.” She doesn’t sound pained despite her voice returning to a soft whisper. 

Hiei gently took her hand. The candles that flickered shadows against the wall barely illuminated her pale skin, but even Hiei could see the blistered palm yelling in agony.  “Do you know how this happened?”

“My legs and feet also feel like fire.”

He sighed and examined her arm. It seemed her skin was bleeding through the bandages, her hands still exposed to the elements- they must have missed them...or maybe they ran out of supplies. He moved the blankets off her to reveal two wrapped legs also speckled with blood. These were intense burns, and yet her face hardly let on the excruciating pain. 

“Your sister says your name is Ophelia,” he attempted to distract her, as he gently took her arm in his hands. She winced slightly. “That is an interesting name. What does it mean?”

“My mom gave me that name,” she whispered. Hiei begins unwrapping her arm; it feels like glue ripping away her flesh. She heard the sound shredding paper. 

“Where is your mother?” He winced when she let out a whimper- maybe she does feel after all? She turned her head into the blankets to muffle her cries. 

“She left me,” She said breathlessly, “a long time ago, with my father. He’s the leader of the pack.”

He completed the first arm and they both exhaled. Ophelia’s angry red skin was pulsating. Violent second degree burns from the palm of her hands to her elbow. “Your father was the pack leader…..I’m sorry.”

“So then...he’s dead?” She sighed, blowing some of her hair from her face. He nodded his head solemnly, yet, confused. “People only say sorry like that when someone dies. Even if they don’t really care- they still need to say something.”

Hiei shrugged, nodding his head and reached for her left arm. She hesitated before laying on her back to give him better access to the bandages. “What’s your name?”

“Hiei...my mother also gave me that name,” he responded, accidentally allowing a small hint of sadness drip on each word. 

“Where’s your mommy?”

He stopped unwrapping her arm for a moment. He looked at her face, now free from the hair that shielded her, and knitted his eyebrows together. Ophelia had a small round face, with two large eyes that looked almost...white? He leads closer and she recoiled. No, blue eyes. Eyes such a striking blue it looked like the sun hiding behind a cloud. Ice. Cold as ice. She narrowed her eyes in response to his blank stare. Hiei took this as a sign and returned to tending to the girls arm. Ophelia winced everytime the bandaged pulled from the scorched skin. Some idiot wrapped this too tight , he cursed. 

“What are you doing to me?” She asked after he dropped the last of the white fabric onto the blankets. 

“Make you better...so you won’t be on fire anymore.” Hiei inhaled sharply, closing his eyes and placing his hands over her arm, hovering just above the burnt skin. “This won’t be pleasant. I won’t lie to you. This will hurt you, but only for a moment. It will be okay, I promise.” He opened an eye to examine her face one more time. She clenched her jaw and braced herself for...whatever he was planning. “Do you trust me?” 

She nodded. “I guess…” She didn’t really have a choice. 

He closed his eyes and raised his ki. He felt his palms turn cold, to freezing, to unbearable- even for him, as his natural being clashed with his internal one- as white and blue mist floated from his hands unto her arms. This...frozen force clashed angrily with the heat radiating from her skin. Her eyes went wide as the pain rushed to her inner core. It felt like large, metal, needles repeatedly slamming into her arm. She yelped and cried out, enough to make him want to put her out of her misery...one way or another. In between her tears, she battled a lump that formed like a rock in her chest that threatened to explode from her mouth. And when that wave passed, the felt as if the oxygen was sucked from her head. The room spun. She closed her eyes as the cycle repeated. Needles scraping bones. Her stomach flipping. 

Like waves crashing on a beach. Death in that moment would be a welcomed release. That voice in her head, cursing her foolish trust. 

Then, the fire that raged in her limbs grew dull until replaced with a soothing chill. The tsunami of pain froze and her eyes fluttered open. Hiei closed his hands, halting his ki. The red, blistered, limb with its skin still attached to discarded bandages was restored. She moved her hands into fists and back straight- no pain. She sat up in shock and rendered silent. 

“I’m going to do the same thing to your legs,” he began, “do you think you can stop being so dramatic for a minute so the dog doesn’t think I am murdering you?”

Ophelia pouted and grabbed part of the blanket put in her mouth. Hiei nodded and repeated the process on her legs. Only the knees and upper shin were burned too her bone. The pain, this time, wasn’t as unbearable, but she still bit clear through the blanket trying to stifle her cries. Sweat drenched her hair and for a moment, what little color in her skin drained. She thought a wave of blackness would take her over, but once the skin returned to her exposed shin, and cooled, she could breathe again. Hiei removed his hands from her legs and examined his handy work. The porcelain white skin restored, erasing any sign it had been on fire moments before. Ophelia tentatively touched her repaired skin and smiled. 

“I couldn’t see you in pain any longer...it was either heal you or kill you.”

She suddenly threw her arms around a startled Hiei, who froze at the sudden unexpected affection. “Thank you, Hiei.”

“Hn,” he pulled her off him, “I need you to do me a favor now. You mustn't tell anyone about this. I do not want anyone to know I have this ability. It would raise too many questions I am not inclined to answer.” He stared into her frightful eyes. She nodded in agreement and tried to find a sign that she would betray his trust. 

He hadn’t trusted a soul since he stumbled upon this village accidentally six months ago; holding the carcass of one of Youko’s plants, finding it rude it had opted to attack him. This place was a band of thieves and criminals masquerading as civilians. If they knew what he really was, he would have to murder the whole lot of them. And that would be such an inconvenience. 

But this little girl, not much younger than him, who had no demon energy around her and yet didn’t pass out when he tortured her nervous system to fix her, he could see himself sparing her. 

“Do you promise to keep this secret, as I promised you would be okay?”

She nodded, “I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

Hiei smirked. He could make that happen if she decided to betray him. 

But she never would.

Chapter Text

Ophelia wore her bandages for show. She even went as far as finding red berries and crushing them against them to commit to the lie. Hiei thought that was foolish, and told her as much– the nurses weren’t that stupid. Neglectful, yes. There were only three women in the whole village who had enough sense and training to pass as caregivers- and their attention was stolen when four of the children fell ill with a mysterious cough that burned their lungs. Thus, James, now in charge of those left in the village while Youko and the men were scouting for supplies, left Ophelia in Hiei’s “care”.  

Mostly, the young boy would walk the perimeter, sensing any humans lurking in the area. Ophelia lost without her sister who was still recovering from her injuries, following him despite his protests. 

And she was a talker. 

“My sister said some red flowers can be used to heal broken bones, but only if you mix them with fire water from the edge of our territory, and only if you have enough energy to spare. You can’t just create without giving a part of yourself away. Right?”

“Hn,” Hiei responded. She wasn’t wrong. He slept for twelve hours after he healed her- he could tell the dog demon was curious, but two women fighting over fabric stole his attention for the rest of the day. 

“Anyway, she didn’t say red flowers, by the way, she said the actual flower. But I can’t remember it. Something with a P? Maybe T? I don’t know. She always talks about flowers and I sometimes just stop listening and dream about living on an island without flowers. Maybe an island with just trees. I like trees. Don’t you? I like that we live in a black forest. My sister tells me there are other forests out there, beyond the black forest. She said there are even places without any trees. Could you imagine?”

“Ophelia, please.” He snapped. She flinched and he regretted his words. He gritted his teeth, “Why don’t you go see your sister? Maybe she can tell you the name of the flower so her leg will heal faster?”

“And then we’ll leave,” she said sadly. Hiei looked at her for the first time since she followed him from the main house. She was wearing a makeshift gray dress that hung haphazardly off her small form and completely clashed with her skin tone. Ophelia looked like a wraith standing out against the black forest backdrop. 

“Oh? You think you’re leaving when your sister is healed?” His tone was genuine, and he approached her small form. 

“We have to go back home right?” 

Did she not realize… It had only been a few days since the smoke rose in the distance, alerting the small village of trouble and Ophelia was unconscious for most of the journey. Did she not grasp the severity of the issue? 

Was he the one who had to break it to her? 

“You should go speak to your sister,” he brushed past her, “I have to go ensure the eastern perimeter is secure and you are a distraction.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Everytime I go see her, one of those mean women yells at me. They keep saying she needs her rest.”

“So,” he huffed. She wasn’t wrong. The women who took up the mantle of “nurse” had frigid bedside manners, and having a shadow following him around for the last day and a half had proven exhausting. However, there was something...off...about Ophelia. It wasn’t so much her attachment to Hiei, he could understand that. No, it was something else. The way her eyes seemed much older than the rest of her being. How the other children avoided her without much of a chance. The adults would side eye her as she pranced across the entire village- almost blissfully ignorant to the tragedy surrounding her. Maybe that’s why the nurses insisted on her staying away from her healing sister. How could a woman who lost everything- her entire pack- look into the eyes of a child who could hardly contain her excitement towards her new life? Maybe they were worried it would be too much and the woman would allow the infection in her wounds to take her.

And then what?

“ You should do something about them,” he continued, “she’s your sister, right? You have the right to see her.” 

She pondered this with a blank expression. Do something… “Okay...I’ll try.”

Ophelia skipped across the small wood that separated the perimeter from the main village. Village, of course, being an over statement. There were several small wooden houses, about seven in total, that housed some of the newer residents of Youko’s village. There was a small open “school house” where the children often spent the day learning how to tend to the garden on the west side of the area, sewing garments, and repairing weapons and armor. There was a blacksmith and apprentice, a woman and small child, who operated right beyond the woods. The sounds of metal forging against heat would echo throughout the village for hours. There were two people in charge of butchering whatever animals were captured in the hunt and descaling the fish they caught in the lake near the northern edge.  And in the center, a large traditional manka (Japanese home), that housed a large communal kitchen, the infirmary, and a large basement with one of the most impressive wine collections. This red and gold architectural achievement housed the founder of this village and his most trusted advisors.  And where Kira and four children were currently quarantined.

Ophelia walked through one of the open sliding doors from the east end of the home. She had been warned by Sem, one of the nurses, to stay away from the west side of the house, where the children were coughing up blood from infected lungs. The sounds of the groans and cries echoed through the empty halls as Ophelia made her way towards her sister’s room. She walked slowly, entranced by the wood and gold artwork that trimmed the inside of the house. It shimmered against the soft sunlight that leaked through translucent windows. It smelled different than the black forest- which smelled like licorice- more like the roses that sprinkled the area around the village. She enjoyed this place. She felt warm, like in a mother’s embrace. 

She approached the sliding door of her sister's room and was startled when it opened and shut quickly. Sem, a short white-haired and wrinkly demon from a providence near the Human world stood before Ophelia. A scowl was permanently etched across her face and arms tightly crossed over her chest. She grumbled at the sight of the small child. 

“What are you doing here? Your sister is not well and does not need you bothering her.” 

“I need to talk to sister,” Ophelia argued, scratching the inside of one of her bandaged arms absentmindedly, “I haven’t seen her since we got here and I need to ask her a question.”

“What question could you possibly have right now? Go play with Hiei,” She snapped, refusing to budge from the door.

“Hiei is busy and I need to ask her if we are going home?”

Sem faltered. It was easy to forget that this tiny girl was still a child. Her curiosity was natural, albeit inconvenient due to the nature of her sister's wounds. “Your sister is very sick,” Sem tried to soften her voice, “your germs will make her worse.”

Ophelia widened her eyes and tilted her head to the side, “What’s...germs…?”

The older woman grumbled, “Germs are tiny organisms that can cause disease.”

“Why do they cause disease?” She returned. 

“That’s just science, child, don’t you know anything?” Sem huffed, “I don’t have time for this! Shoo! Go away!”

“Why?”

“I just told you.”

“Because I am a germ?”

“Yes! Your body is covered in dirt!”

“How do I become NOT a germ?”

“You take a bath!”

“Where?”

Sem thought about what Youko said before he left- take care of the girls- and wondered if that was code to murder one or both of them. It was tempting. The older one was almost there, but then they would be stuck with this nuisance and she wasn’t one to murder a child- no matter how annoying. Sem brought herself down to Ophelia’s eye level. The child’s eyes were disgusting muted blue that made her look like the old witch woman who lived in her province when she was child, centuries ago. She clenched her teeth, and widened her lips into a grotesque smile to the point Ophelia thought her whole face might crack and turn to dust. “Do you know what happens to little children who ask too many questions?”

Ophelia studied the woman’s old face that looked like a road map of all her struggles. And in a flash could see one of those moments as clear as if she was experiencing it herself. And without even the slightest emotion, she responded: “They plucked their nails from their fingers?”

Sem’s smile vanished. She shot up, her eyes wide, and instinctively tucked her bruised and scarred fingers into two fists. “How did you-” she stopped. The witch popped in her mind again; skin grayed and muddled like clay, but with jagged yellow teeth clinging to fiery red gums that oozed while she cackled at the screams. Sem felt the vibration tickle her throat–a phantom cry caught in her throat- and  she decided watching over a dying wolf wasn’t worth this torture. She brushed passed the child, nearly knocking her over. “What a naughty girl.”

Ophelia watched her leave the home, as if her presence in the place haunted the old woman, and smiled. That was easy… .  Satisfied, She opened the sliding door and entered her sister’s room- germ or not. 

Kira was sitting up on the mattress on the floor, breathing heavily and trying to pull the bandage off her leg. Her long hair was greasy from the days of sweating in her bed, battling through bouts of unbearable heat and chills. Despite her olive skin, Ophelia was shocked to see her sister as pale as the full moon. She regretted her decision to enter- maybe it was better if she played with her new best friend around the perimeter near carnivorous plants that would occasionally try to snap her up. 

“K-kira?” Ophelia whispered, suddenly becoming the five-year-old child her size suggested. 

Kire snapped her head towards the small voice and smiled, “Oh, good, there you are. I was getting worried they killed you. They don’t tell me anything here.” She returned to working on her bandages that seemed stuck to white pus protruding from her leg. “I think they are worried–- bad luck with wolves. We do have a bit of a reputation; unfounded of course.”

Ophelia felt sick watching her sister tear at her legs and tried to look at the ceiling, or the floor, or the terrifying portrait of Youko standing in front of those plants. “They said I am a germ and I shouldn’t bother you.”

Kira laughed sardonically, “You are. Definitely. Not going to help my leg having you here, but I think...I think you could help me.”

Ophelia perked up just as Kira ripped the bandage off her leg with a grunt and a laugh. “Ha! Finally. It was getting too hot under there.” She panted and examined her bloated purple leg. “Okay okay. Good news, it’s not black. If it was black, Lia, it would be dead you know. And then…” She paused and laughed as tears welled in her eyes. “I wouldn’t have a leg.”

Ophelia started biting her thumbnail. Not sucking it, she wanted to say to Kira as if she cared, but biting it nervously. “Are you going to die too?”

Kira snapped out of her daydream and looked at her small sister. She looked so lost and confused; unable to comprehend how serious this situation was becoming. Her leg was infected. She could lose it, or worse. But no one was listening to her. The only nurse she has seen wouldn’t hear of her plan and refused to call James from his duties to hear her idea. And the children’s coughing grew louder and more painful- a cough of death that Kira knew all too well from last winter. 

“Lia, come here,” Kira called her sister quietly, just in case. Ophelia reluctantly walked over despite the fear of infecting her sister more. “Tell me, have you seen the plants that we walked past when we came here?” 

Ophelia nodded. “Hiei and I were playing there today.”

“Good girl,” Kira grabbed her arm, taking a mental note that her sister didn’t flinch despite being bandaged up from the burns. “Do you know anything about them? Has Hiei told you what gives them their power?”

Ophelia recalled the first night playing near them, when one lunged for her and Hiei had to cut off its head before she was plant food. He offered her quite the verbal lashing after that stunt. “Uh-huh. Youko grew them. They surround the whole village and eat anyone that Youko doesn’t like.”

“So, his demon energy, that’s what gives them life?”

Ophelia shrugged and Kira gripped her arm tightly. 

“Okay,” she continued, “Lia...listen to me very carefully. Go to one of the plants and cut it open. A milky white liquid will come out. See that jar over there? Collect as much of it as you can and bring it back to me. Do you understand?”

Ophelia bit her lip, “Uhm, how do I cut it open without it eating me? They always try to attack when I go near them and Hiei gets really really mad at me.”

Kira gritted her teeth and tried to relax her grip on her sister; but she could feel her skin rotting and her voice remained unheard by the other demons in the village. Her sharp teeth grew and she wanted nothing more than to tear a living thing apart. “Hiei is your friend? The little boy with the sword? Ask him for help.”

“Bu-”

Kira jerked Ophelia forward violently, until her brown eyes were staring right into her. “I’m...sorry. But you have to be strong right now, okay? You have to be strong and brave, like we talked about when I pulled you from the coals, do you remember.” Ophelia nodded sadly. “Good, good, good. It’s going to be okay. Just do as I say and we’ll be okay.”

“Yes, sister.”

“Now go, and if anyone tries to stop you…” Kira released her sister with a sudden jump of realization, “just...do whatever you have to do.”

Ophelia stomped towards the southern part of the village- the least active- clearly vexed. All the years being told to be a good girl. Be quiet and don’t make too much noise. Think happy thoughts. The accusations that her frown was some kind of curse upon other people. Now, she supposed, the situation was truly dier if her sister was letting her “do whatever” she needed to do. And what she needed to do involved going toe-to-toe with a 50 foot, angry, purple plant with razor sharp teeth that could grind up bone. But she promised she would be strong. 

She clutched the medium sized jar against her torso as she navigated through the small woods, into the danger zone. The ground rumbled upon her arrival. She stood a few feet away from the plants, currently closed and swaying gently in the wind. She only needed one to approach her without alerting the rest. Ophelia picked up a small rock and chucked it at the plant directly in front of her, who was missing its left neighbor thanks to the previously mentioned incident. The plant uncurled and let out a screech that caused her to jump. 

Ophelia didn’t want to alert the whole village with a chorus of screaming plants. Luckily, the single creature turned and spotted its new prey and lunged for her without attracting the others. 

She smirked.

Her eyes turned an ink black, like the eye of an ominous raven. She rose her hand in front of the encroaching planet—and it halted. Frozen. As if stuck in time. It’s purple and green petals twitched unnaturally, and she widened her smile. 

Ophelia took a breath, called upon the darkness that welled inside her. Her fingernail extended. Morphing into a sharp black razor just longer than her tiny index finger.  

Without a word, she plunged the weapon into the stem of Youko’s precious creation. It didn’t cry out. She removed it as the white liquid poured from its wound and she happily collected as much as the jar would fit. 

It twitched and groaned as it was drained of its nectar. 

Ophelia tilted her head with curiosity as she watched the being struggle. She didn’t care for these plants like she didn’t care for any of the plants her sister tried to show her. But especially these abominations. So mean to her...when she was...only a child. 

She placed her hand on one of the petals and took another breath. 

The purple color melted off its petals, the green drained from its stem. It turned a sickly yellow-white to a muted brown, while the razor sharp teeth dulled and rained from its mouth. And it fell to the ground with a loud thump which shook the earth beneath her feet. 

She giggled as her eyes returned to normal, but hardly had the time to relish in her flawless victory against her first real enemy, when the sound of movement echoing from her left caught her attention. She snapped her head, expecting to have to exert herself, but only found Hiei. He emerged from the woods, his red eyes wide with...curiosity. His mouth slightly ajar as if he wanted to speak but the words fell as dead as the plant laying at the child’s feet. 

They stared at one another for several frantic heart beats. She imagined they were thinking the same thing. And she imagined that even with Hiei only displaying some of his power, his technique was better tuned than hers. 

So, instead, she smiled and placed her index finger to her lip as her nail retracted into its previous shape. 

Shhh .

Chapter Text

Hiei followed Ophelia back to the home. His hand on the hilt of his sword, eyes narrowed, waiting. She didn’t immediately attack him- stupid on her part. If he had just accidentally revealed such a potent ability, sucking the life out of another living being, he would have slit their throat before they had the chance to move. Not Ophelia. Though he was sure the thought crossed her mind; he saw the flash of contemplation as the last bit of black left her eyes. 

But she didn’t act upon her instinct. 

Did she really trust him? Already? 

He removed his hand from the katana, and Ophelia stopped. 

“Where’s James?” She asked without even turning her head to acknowledge Hiei directly. He took note that despite how small and infantile her voice was, it lacked any emotion. Vacant. Empty. 

“Not sure exactly, but I have an idea.” He responded, and she took note that he sounded just like her. 

“Could you get him? I think Kira is going to need help… and maybe we should get an adult?”

“Squeamish all of a sudden?” he snorted. 

Ophelia slowly turned her head. “Hm? What are you talking about?”

Hiei chuckled at her feigned confusion. “Fine. I’ll be back with the dog.”

Ophelia exhaled after he sped away. Her heart felt stapled to her throat since they left the dead plant. She could sense, despite her back towards him (something her sister would surely lecture her about) his hand was hovering close to his weapon. She could smell the instinct to attack well within his body. His breathing was noticeably even and controlled despite fighting against the desire to lunge at the girl. 

She just had that effect on people. 

The jar began to slip from her hands, and Ophelia scampered into the home. 

There was always the possibility that Hiei would tell James what he saw- a stranger with the skill to steal life. Child or not, there could be consequences worse than her sister losing her leg. But somehow, she felt it in her chest, Hiei wouldn’t tell the dog demon what she was capable of- he was too curious. And she had something on him. Who hides that they can heal external wounds? Especially when there are people who can truly benefit from that ability? 

Ophelia entered her sister's room quietly as not to alert the three nurses that moved like wraiths throughout the home. Kira was still alert, a knife clutched in her hand, but her body was coated in a thick layer of sweat. Ophelia tried not to look at the wound on her sister’s leg which throbbed and pulsed as the infection ate away at the soft tissue, and walked over to her side trying to hold onto the jar of milky white liquid. 

“Finally,” Kira panted, “I was afraid I would...fall asleep again.”

Ophelia frowned and put the jar down. Her sister’s sunken eyes were rimmed red and dry as bone, her skin pale with a dull waxy shimmer, and her lips were chapped. Her body trembled with every subtle movement. She looked fragile like porcelain, and any misguided touch would shatter her into pieces. 

 “What are you going to do, sister?”

Kira raised the knife in her right hand and pointed towards the stick laying across the room which had a perfect mold of her teeth. “Grab that. I need something to bite down on.”

Before Ophelia could respond, the stick was in her face, held up by Hiei who flew into the room like a shadow. “This thing?” 

Both girls looked towards the door where James stood, a weary expression sewed onto his face. His bright green eyes seemed to dull against the muted sunlight which struggled to drip into the quarantine room. Behind him, Sem with her arms crossed, whispering retaliations into his ear. 

“Care to share what you two are up to?” He spoke with command in his voice that contradicted the look on his face. 

Kira laughed bitterly–her voice sounded like a raspy cracked echo that drained the air from the room. “Ask your stupid bitch of an assistant.”

“Excuse me,” Sem plowed through James, “What kind of language is that for a woman? How dare you! You are a guest-”

“Well,” Hiei cut off the lecture, turning to the old woman, “What are they up to?”

Sem crossed her arms over her chest, rolling her eyes and turned to James- hoping the dog demon would put these insolent children in their place. Instead, James narrowed his tired eyes which began to glow with life once again. The older woman threw her hands in the air, “Ridiculous. This delirious wolf wanted to know what the plants Lord Youko created were made from.”

James shook his head, “And? Did you tell her?”

“Of course not! She’s not one of us .”

“Sem, how many times do I have to tell you: there is no us and them . She is injured and needs our help.”

Sem cackled in his face, “You trust too easily! How could Lord Youko put you in charge? She could use this information to stage an attack on us!”

“With what army,” Hiei responded blankly, “Her whole pack is dead.”

The air seemed to rip from the room. A silence that was too loud blanketed the group. 

Truth. 

Everyone’s eyes drifted towards the floor- except Hiei, whose red eyes of fury locked on intensely at Sem. Shame. She clenched her fist, pushing that feeling beneath her. Ophelia looked at the dirt in her nails; a little green speck of stem still stuck. James pinched the bridge of his nose to relieve that headache that brewed ever since Youko left him in charge; the second time he made this mistake. James would be the first to admit he wasn’t a leader- he was a dog. He was loyal. To a fault. He was calm in stressful situations. Yes. But he was no leader of a pack of random, displaced, demons, who had been scarred by death and betrayal. 

The tension was thick. 

And it was cut by the sound of flesh torn from muscle.

Everyone snapped their heads towards Kira. Stick clenched in her mouth, brown eyes wide and dilated, and with the knife dragging along her purple leg. 

“What are you doing!” James shouted and barreled through Sem, nearly knocking the old woman over, to grab the knife from the shaking hands of Kira. 

Kira spit out the stick and relinquished the knife, the deed done. “If she would have just told you what I had planned, it wouldn’t have gotten this bad.” She pointed to the jar on the floor next to her. “Youko uses demon energy to give his piranha plants life, correct?” 

James knitted his eyebrows together, “Well, we don’t call them piranha plants, but yes...:” 

Kira smiled and removed a handful of milky gelatinous liquid from the jar. “Let me guess: these plants, whatever you call them, only attack intruders, but those who live within this community are safe, are they not?”

James nodded. Kira took a sharp breath and closed her eyes. Weakly, slowly, her demon energy rose and surrounded her hand. The liquid in her palm glowed a bright white that seemed to sparkle against the soft light in the room. She exhaled and placed her hand over the cut which pussed and bled upon the white sheets of her makeshift bed. 

Everyone winced with the wolf as she clenched her teeth.  Except Hiei, who chuckled. “I see. You manipulated Youko’s demon energy. The liquid from the plant will now attack whatever bacteria is in the wound.”

James smacked his hand on his head, “Of course! The plants use Youko’s energy to attack intruders. You just altered his demon energy to attack the infection.”

Kira laughed through the pain. “It won’t heal the bone. But it will neutralize the infection and I won’t lose the leg.”

Ophelia’s smile grew as she shot her eyes towards Sem; who in turn stood in shock over what she was seeing. Slowly, the puss that dripped from the wound evaporated, as the leg began to return to its natural olive color. “How...how was I supposed to know that was what you were going to do!”

Kira waved off the woman, “If you had let me explain instead of cutting me off, you would have known.”

“This is a skill only advanced healers, who have spent years training, can accomplish! Manipulating another demon’s energy? Unheard of from such a young pup! Especially one so weak-”

“That’s quite enough, Sem,” James snapped, “Why don’t you go wash up and check on the children. Another one has fallen ill.”

Sem stormed from the room in a fury. “Wait till Youko hears about this!” 

Ophelia took a seat next to her sister, gently taking her hand in hers. “Are you going to be okay, sister?”

Kira nodded and leaned against the wall, “Yes. Great job little one. You to Hiei, thank you.”

“Hn,” Hiei narrowed his eyes at Ophelia, who returned the look from under her hair which shielded the two older demons from her milky blue eyes, “Yeah. Don’t mention it.”

“What did Hiei do now?” James asked, confused that the little runt, as he called him, would lift a finger to help anyone but himself. 

“He killed the plant so I could get the juice!” Ophelia squealed happily, though it sounded as if her tone was being forced through gritted teeth. 

“Not another one,” James shook his head, knowing a lecture on preserving plants would surely be expected once the owner returned. “I guess it was for a good cause…”

Kira forced her body to sit up, moving to rise from her bed. James immediately jumped in and  attempted to gently push the woman back onto the bed; but she stopped him with a firm hand against his chest. “I’m fine. If you help me wrap my leg up, I can help the children.”

“You just began the healing process on your leg,” he countered weakly, “Why don’t you rest?”

Kira shook her head, “We don’t have time. I know what’s wrong with the children of this place- this disease ravaged our pack last winter. We can use the liquid to create an elixir for them.”

“You’re weak,” Hiei muttered, “Let your energy rise before you waste it all on creating a cure you're too dead to implement. The sick can wait.”

Kira cursed his logic- he wasn’t wrong. “Fine,” she plopped on the bed. “In the meantime, you need to find rosemary or eucalyptus. Do you know what it looks like? It does grow in these parts naturally.”

James nodded, “We have eucalyptus…”

“Okay. Mix that with honey and then add some of your own energy. If you can manipulate plants the way Youko can, you’ll be able to enhance the plants natural properties. Place the mixture on the chests of those afflicted.”

“Will that cure them?” James asked, nodding at Hiei to alert the rest of the village. 

“No, but it will open their lungs so it will be easier for them to breathe. The juice of the dearly departed plant Hiei killed can be used to cure them, but I...apparently need to rest.”

James chuckled despite the urgency as the wolf demon slowly closed her eyes to recharge. Her leg rapidly healed the self-inflicted cut with such grace that James was envious of the ability. “You two are really earning your keep here.”

The sun gave way to blackness. Stars lightyears away sparkled against the demon night sky which stretched for miles. There, Ophelia stood by the still blue lake which rested near the main home. The house glowed from flickering candles in several rooms, as the murky coughs were slowly silenced as the night waged on. Ophelia stared into the dark forest beyond the lake. The sound of medium sized, three eyed fish, splashing in the water mixed with the whispering trees caressed by the wind. She was so engrossed with the sounds of nighttime that she didn’t hear the boy walk up behind her. 

“What are you?” He said coolly. 

She closed her eyes and remained still, “What are you?”

A pause. The wind shifted and the trees whined as their branches bent. 

“I’m half fire demon.” Hiei said- heart beating rapidly- confused by his own admission.

Ophelia slightly turned and Hiei took a step back-starting. The white film that caused her eyes to age dramatically was gone. And there, enchanted by the full moon, was ice blue eyes no longer hindered by a barrier of white. They shun in the nighttime. Like a star. But still frozen like the mountain tops of his old home. 

“Your skin is cold.” Her tiny voice broke him from his reverence. “Fire demons are hot.”

“Hn, not all of us.”

Another pause. She turned back to the forest. 

“What? Has someone stolen your tongue? I couldn’t shut you up before, now we’re shy?”

He moved next to her, staring off into the same forest, searching for what had captured her attention and muted his new friend. Another splash from the lake as one of the three-eyed fish managed to capture one of the smaller, yellow, fish that are used as their food. The yellow fish feed the larger fish, who in turn nourish the village. Death providing life. 

“Do you see the face in the forest?” She asked meekly. 

Hiei scanned the area. “All I see are the trees...and some silhouettes of animals. No faces.” He eyed her without moving. Her face scrunched with concern. “There’s nothing there. And even if there was, the plants would have devoured anything that crossed their paths.”

She must be worried about the humans. He thought, remembering why she was standing in this village in the first place. It had only been a couple of days; but those days were longer than usual. Her presence seemed more rooted in concrete; as if she had been there forever. He couldn’t place this feeling- familiar yet dangerous. “Come,” he said, “it’s getting late and you should rest.”

“No,” she answered quickly, “I don’t sleep.”

Hiei rolled his eyes, “Of course you do. And you must be tired from taking on that plant earlier. Speaking of which, don’t start screaming when one of those monsters tries to eat you- clearly you are capable of defending yourself-”

“I can’t sleep because nightmares,” She shuddered, her voice cracking. “I have nightmares.”

“Who doesn’t?” He huffed impatiently. “Come on now. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

She sniffled, “I have horrible nightmares. I don’t want to have nightmares anymore.”

Insufferable. He thought. Hiei moved in front of her, judging the cause of these sudden and unnecessary tears must exist somewhere in the black woods that have captured her attention. He placed his hands on her shoulders, his skin ice cold but she didn't react. She was just as cold. Her head hung, black stringy hair covering her face, as she inhaled sharply to stop the flow of tiny wet tears. “Enough now. Nightmares are no reason to cry. Reality will give you plenty of reasons to shed tears.”

The wind picked up. But the fish have been silenced. The death rattle from inside the house was replaced by cautious laughter. Happy tears battling against these painful sobs that wreck Ophelia’s body as she tries to will her dark thoughts away. Hiei stood before her, frustrated by this...performance? An act? Her duality was becoming tiresome. She stood before him at dawn with a cheshire grin and her deformed finger pressed against her lips in warning, and as the moon hung high above them she devolved into a shaking, crying, mess of a child. 

However , he sighed. How easy it was to forget the act one must put on to survive? How difficult was it to shed that costume? To let down that guard. How liberating could that be? 

“The nightmares aren’t real, Ophelia.” He softened his voice. 

“Yes, they are, Hiei.” 

She brought her eyes to meet his. About the same height, for the time being, they met each other's gazes without attempting to hide. Exposed, left out there in the open. He never met a person or child who he felt safe enough with to look them directly in the eye- not the hand, waiting for an attack, or their feet to see if they flee, not even through them. And he didn’t feel safe. 

“I know how you're going to die.” She whimpered. “I don’t want to see you die anymore.”

He laughed, “I’m not going to die anytime soon.”

She shook her head. “Not soon. Later. You are going to die three times.”

“I have no intention of dying, let alone three times. So, I wouldn’t worry about it.” He grabbed her arm gently, to pull her back towards the house. But she yanked her arm from him with a startling sense of urgency. He paused- she moved faster than he expected. Or liked. Intensely he looked into her eyes for a sense she was actually telling the truth. 

“You saw me die? How?”

Ophelia took a deep breath, closing her eyes. 

And when she opened them: the muted white layer returned over her bright blue orbs. Aging her centuries. 

“You will die three times.” She touched his forehead, pressing hard till he felt the pressure, “First, your mind.” She moved to his right arm, gripping it tightly, “Then, your body.” Then, she rested her hand over his chest. Right against the heart that didn’t thump when she touched. “Finally, your heart.”

Ophelia’s hand dropped to her side. Her eyes wilted to the ground as she noticed his breathing had increased. 

“That so?” He questioned cautiously, “And who will kill me?”

She shrugged, “I don’t know. It doesn’t show me.”

“What’s ‘it’?” 

She shook her head, “I don’t know. It’s whatever shows me the nightmares.”

“Well,” he struggled to find a response. He didn’t believe her, not really. Not like he would ever let anyone get a clean enough shot on him to take him out once, let alone three times. But clearly, she was distraught by these night terrors. “I’m not that easy to kill... And now that you told me how, I can prevent it from ever happening.”

“It doesn’t work like that,” she retorted. “You are meant to die, as am I.”

He tilted his head to the side.  “Oh, and how many times do you die?”

She lifted three fingers. How coincidental , he thought. 

“Three times,” she mumbled, her voice clearly pained. She wrapped her arms around her small body, shivering against the cool night air. “Burned alive.” She brings her hands to her stomach. “Cut open.” And then, to his horror, she lifted both arms up and showed him her wrists. Clean, bare wrists. “Then...myself.”

The once calm wind picked up and whipped debris around their two silhouettes. The laughter from the home grew, as people ran from the doors, shouting at the others to come inside. To see the wonderful cure of all their troubles. How blessed they would be to have a healer now. The village women ran through the house, throwing open doors, and running to their children. Kids singing joyful songs that their mothers’ had taught them echoing over the night air. 

“I just want to go to sleep and not die,” she whimpered, and dropped both arms to her side. “I can feel...everything. It hurts...so much. I hate it.” 

A child of few words, Hiei was rendered silent. Even his mind drew a blank as he stared at the ghostly form of this child. Suddenly wondering if this whole exchange was a dream he was experiencing. But the smell of elkeer-a four horned, four leg, foul that existed in their forest- roasting over a fire was all too real to be a figment of his imagination. He grabbed her hand. Her soft, baby-like, skin was smooth against his touch. As real as flesh could be. “That’s enough for tonight,” he said softly, “let’s go inside now, see why someone decided to start cooking at this hour.” 

He pulled her gently towards the house, and she followed as she knew she would, with her head hanging low, and her tears slowly drying. 

“And one day,” she whispered low enough that he could just strain his ears to hear her; her voice like an echo. “You and I...will kill each other.”

Chapter Text

The sun rose on the seventh day.

Bright. Illuminating every inch of greenery that its light touched. The dark green leaves twinkled with their fresh dew. The wind was calm, for the first time in a few weeks, and a soft melody whispered across the village as the trees swayed against each other. Dancing.

The smell of flames had become a distant memory. The metallic stench of blood was all too common that it signaled that a time of turmoil was behind them. The future was as bright as the sun that hung in the red sky. Sounds of children screaming in joy echoed in and out of the makeshift houses which surrounded the main abode. Their small feet slamming against the rough terrain acted as a percussion accompaniment to their lovely tune.

Kira, bathed in the glow of the sun, sat on the balcony of the main house, pulling apart the leaves of a yellow vegetable. The green leaves were placed gingerly into a basket, for use later, while yellow husks were left to the side to be picked up by the dog demon when he eventually made his rounds. Her black hair gathered into a tight bun, while small strands managed to escape their prison and fall upon her face. She hummed a song that Farore had taught her after her mother passed away; a tune that had comforted her in times passed and that she had frequently attempted to sing to put her sister to sleep. 

Though Ophelia never seemed comforted enough to sleep. 

Kira knitted two thin black eyebrows together as she struggled to remember the next part of the song when the sounds of heavy bare feet captured her attention. She looked up to see James, flushed in his cheeks and coated in sweat from no doubt running around like a chicken without a head.

“Time for your check in, Ms. Kira,” he chuckled, slightly out of breath. 

“Ms?” She placed her project on pause, “What’s that now?”

“It’s a term of respect from where I am from. It means you are unburdened with the chains of marriage.”

She laughed as he knelt next to her and examined her leg. “I see, shall I call you Ms. Jameson, then?” She winked and the dog demon skin turned an apple shade of red. 

“It would be Mr. in my case,” he carefully raised her extended leg, which had a fresh split to keep the bone in place. She was under strict instructions not to move, but still managed to hobble towards a poorly kept garden to gather the fresh vegetation that threatened to spoil. “And men do not have a prefix to denote if they are married or not.”

Kira frowned, “Now that doesn’t seem very fair, does it?”

“I agree,” he pressed gently on her fibula, “Does this hurt?”

She winced, “A bit, it’s sore. But I can feel it healing underneath the skin.”

“Some beings hate that feeling, I always found it oddly comforting. At least you know it’s working.”

Kira agreed, though the sensation of actually feeling broken bones melding back into place could be nauseating- and has caused others to pass out in the past. “Have you heard from Youko yet?”

James shook his head, though he didn't meet her eyes. Instead, he remained focused on her bandaged leg as if interested. “No. He’s usually gone for a week, sometimes two. Can never really tell with him. He won’t come home until he has enough supplies to make it through a month or two. If he can’t then…” 

He paused. The last time Youko left, they lost three members due to human traps. The ones that remained returned with some provisions. Youko, on the other hand, came back a month later. His breath was covered in cheap whisky. And five human skulls around his waist- trophies, he claimed at the time and smashed an empty bottle on the floor next to the children who cried from hunger. 

The next day he burned the skulls and hunted enough elkeer and small rodents to appease the crying children. 

“Then what?” Kira’s concerned voice snapped James out of his dream of the not so distant past. 

He slapped his legs and laughed, which just confused the wolf demon even more. “He’ll be back, he always comes back. And when he does...I’ll talk to him about you and your sister staying with us.”

“Oh,” Kira bit her bottom lip, “I don’t- I haven’t discussed that with Ophelia yet.”

“Well, she’s a child, you are in charge of her, no?”

“Yes, but…”

“If you don’t want to stay,” he cut her off, which was a habit she despised, but the growing concern which stitched upon his face as their conversation continued convinced her to forgive him-this time. His green eyes beset with worry. “I understand. But there is nothing for you out there. And we need you here. Those are the facts.”

“I could have distant cousins with their own packs somewhere out there,” she argued, “unless...there’s another reason we can not leave?”

The sounds of Sem screaming at children echoed across the camp, signaling the end of James' attention. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose again to fight against the growing headache. 

“I have something for that,” Kira leaned over, grabbing a small vial with a yellow liquid inside. James sat next to her as she poured some of it onto her finger. She reached for her and instinctively he jerked back. She giggled, “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you Mr. James.”

Gently, she rubbed the yellow liquid on his forehead. It felt like warm slime against his head, and he frowned until the pressure in his head began to slowly give way. 

“Rosemary oil,” she answered the question that wasn’t asked, “Helps with headaches. Here.” She plugs the vile with some cork she found in the basement lined with wine bottles. “You need it more than me right now, I see.”

James took the small vile. He knew some of the other villagers would be angry at her for using their supplies. The limited glass jars and vials that they had stored in the basement, collecting dust, was going to be “very important” someday soon. 

Maybe that someday was today. 

James grabbed her hand tightly. Kira’s big brown eyes looked back at him confused at the sudden bout of affection, as his eyes remained glued to the vial in his other hand. He sighed heavily, as the weight of responsibility held him down- the yelling from Sem growing louder, as he heard his name now frantically coming out of her mouth. “There could be a million reasons to leave. But there’s a million and one reasons to stay. Our little ‘pack’ needs someone with your set of skills. If you can find it in your heart to help us like we have helped you, I implore you to stay.”

He finally brought his eyes to meet hers. He could sense her resilience. How irksome it was to place demands and expect favors from a guest? “I just…” he continued, releasing her hand, “would like it if it were your choice.”

James rose and turned to walk back into the house to investigate the source of Sem’s rage this time. 

“Do I really have a choice then?” Kira asked bluntly. 

He paused, took a breath and let out a dejected sigh, “Everyone has a choice, Ms. Kira.”

James walked back into the house, shutting the flimsy wooden sliding door behind him. Kira forced herself to ponder the implications of his message. A choice which didn’t seem like a choice; more like a heavy suggestion with consequences if she went against them. She recalled the day her pack was attacked. Fighting past the memories of her people being vaporized by spirit energy, children being literally ripped apart by the savages that dared call themselves human, and her thoughts rested on the trio of demon men who came to her rescue. 

Youko was more inclined to slay them in the woods before the remaining humans locked on to their demon energy and finished the job. They dared to leave the safety of their circle of carnivorous plants to investigate the sounds of death and the stench of humans. Easily, Youko, Hiei and James were the three strongest in the village- that much Kira could feel from the demon energy that radiated off them- and they were the three who were arguably the most valuable. Youko was wanted by humans and demons alike, and Hiei...a child with barely seven years alive had a power level that surpassed her father. They could easily demolish the rest of the demons who inhabited the neutral zone. They demonstrated a fraction of their power against those humans. 

Why hide?

Kira scanned the open area of the east end of the village. The sun was now hot against her olive skin, the last bit of summer hanging on before giving way to winter. Women were working in the fields. The sound of the blacksmith slamming her hammer against piping hot metal echoed with a loud ding that traveled to the far end of the compound. Large birds squawked overhead as the resident archer, a young female demon of unknown origin, ran after them to aim her arrow and released it into the air. The sound of a dying bird. The demon screaming a resounding “got ‘em.”. Then the silence of the wind gently passed through the village. Untouched. 

Smaller feet approached Kira from outside. From how quickly the sound manifested, she could sense it was her small sister making her way towards her on the wrap around balcony. Clearly irritated from the way her small feet tried to slam with each movement. Kira could smell the fire that grew within her sister. And by the time Ophelia appeared in front of Kira, she was already dizzy from the negative energy that leaked off such a tiny being. 

“Lia,” Kira said softly, “What has you so angry today?”

Ophelia sat in front of her sister, pout stitched on porcelain face, and gently picked up one of the leaves of the vegetable. She didn’t know what it was called and she didn’t care to ask. She needed something to hold and rub her fingers against. Something Kira noticed she would do as a baby. A means to try to comfort herself. Ophelia huffed, not looking at her sister. “Sem yelled at me again.”

Kira scrunched her nose, “What a vile woman. Why was she yelling at you today?”

Ophelia shrugged, “She accused me of making one of the children cry.”

“Hm,” Kira continued her task as she thought about how rude that woman has been to the both of them. Especially her little sister; already emotionally fragile, crumbled at any look she could perceive as an attack against her. 

And how that perception could be treacherous. 

“Did you make a child cry, Lia?” Kira carefully allowed a stern tone in her normally cool voice. Lia shifted uncomfortably, pulling at the leaves. “Ophelia. Answer me, please.”

“Ugh,” Ophelia whined, “I didn’t mean to! I swear!”

Kira gritted her teeth as a wave of negative energy coming from her sister hit her. “Calm down,” she said with more force, “You are not in trouble. Just tell me what happened.”

“They were making fun of me again,” Ophelia ripped a piece of the leaf in half, “one of the girls kept asking if I was blind. She said I have the eyes of an old blind woman. She said I reeked of death. She kept asking if I could see over and over again, even when I told her I could.”

Ophelia stopped, took a breath, and tried to level anger that welled inside her. She cautiously looked at her sister, who seemed to grow pale as they sat together.  And she began the cycle of self-hatred that came with these episodes. 

“Then what happened?” Kira urged, despite the sudden nausea. 

“I said...I can see. I see how your father died.”

Kira slapped her head, regretting that she gave James all the rosemary oil. “Dammit Lia, what did father tell you?”

“I didn’t mean to!” She shouted, pained at how angry her sister had become; she tore another part of the leaf. “I just saw what happened and then...then she started crying and said I put the image in her head! But I didn’t! I didn’t put anything in her head, like father told me not to!”

Kira waved her hands to try to calm the panic stricken child before her. Trying to block the image of a male demon’s decaying body, blue and green, with glass eyes that almost mimicked her sisters- maggots in his mouth. Eyes frozen in fear. “It’s fine, I know. I know you don’t know how to control that. Think happy thoughts please?”

Ophelia closed her eyes and took several slow breaths. Happy thoughts? She thought of last fall when the harvest moon hung in the sky, and all the pack threw a party in honor of the bountiful food the goddesses had blessed them with that season. The music that was played. The taste of hot soup and cold water. Her father had snuck her mead to drink, and thought it tasted too bitter for her liking. He laughed. Her father’s warm and welcoming laugh that bellowed into the night. The pack leader, Kane, towered at almost seven and a half feet, give or take. And he was large, like the full moon. And his arms were soft when he embraced Ophelia as she sat on his lap. She would nuzzle into his chest and take in the smell of sweat and dirt. Safe. He always made her feel safe. 

Kira felt the tears well in her brown eyes as she saw the image of her father in her mind's eye. “There you go, little one,” she wiped away a lone tear. “I like those thoughts.”

Ophelia opened her eyes, wet with tears. “I miss father. I miss home.”

“I know,” Kira looked down, at her hands, dirty from tending to the garden. Cut up from pulling out weeds and trying to plant some new seeds she had gathered. She was at a loss of what to say. James' message rang through her head, nearly replacing the image of her father. She tried to hold on to the last fleeting moments of the way her father looked. Blessing the gods that her sister never saw what became of him. An image she tried to bury deep within her soul- knowing Ophelia could look at her and unravel the carefully crafted blockade she created. Ophelia sniffled and took another leaf from the basket- Kira not bothering to stop her from tearing apart the other green foliage she was planning on using as a cure for cuts and scrapes. Whatever kept Ophelia from falling into the darkness of her own mind was beneficial to everyone around her.

“Will we ever go home, Kira?” Ophelia whispered. 

“Do you want to go home?” 

She shrugged, “Hiei says everyone is dead. That our home is gone.”

Kira wasn’t a fan of the lack of tack coming from the little red eyed boy. But Ophelia didn’t seem to mind- and any negative thought daring to rise at the reminder that her whole pack was now extinct seemed to be calmed by the matter-of-fact tone of her new best friend. At least someone was being honest with her. Ophelia looked at her sister; hiding behind her black hair the discontent she felt towards Kira. But she kept repeating happy thoughts in her head as not to alert the sensitive wolf demon. 

“What if we stayed here?” Kira asked finally. 

“No one here likes me.” Ophelia retorted. “The only one who cares about me is Hiei.”

Kira thought “cared” was a strong word. “You shouldn’t concern yourself with the opinions of those weaker than you. You’re a wolf right?”

“I’m no-”

“Stop that. Just because you don’t have our ears or tail, doesn’t mean you aren’t one of us. Don’t even forget that. You’re a wolf.”

“Okay,” she hunched forward with a frown.

“No no, sit up and say it! ‘I am a wolf!” Say it.”

“I am a wolf!” Ophelia shouted, sitting up straight and staring directly into her sister’s eyes. 

Kira smiled. “That’s my girl. Wolves need a pack, Lia. We need a pack.”

She nodded, “I know.”

A sudden rush of warm wind caught both girls’ attention and they turned to see Hiei standing next to them as if he appeared out of thin air. Kira nearly attacked, but luckily was reminded that her leg still needed to stay in place or risk another break. Ophelia, on the other hand, smiled as wide as her chapped lips would allow her. 

“Am I interrupting something?” Hiei asked with a terrifying lack of emotion for a seven-year-old. He looked back at Ophelia, not bothering to wait for an answer. “I got you a gift.”

Ophelia jumped up, “Oh! What is it?”

He dug into the pocket of his black pants. “I heard Sem yell at you for...actually I don’t know. I wasn’t paying attention when she was complaining to James. Her voice irks me.” He pulled out a tooth. A large, white, razor sharp tooth about the size of Hiei’s hand, with a string going through it creating a macabre piece of jewelry. “It’s a tooth from one of the plants you hate so much.” 

Ophelia gasped and placed it around her neck. Kira noted that it clashed with the silver nightgown that was entirely too big for her; making a mental note to sew her sister something appropriate to wear. “Thank you, it’s so pretty.”

“It’s not...pretty,” Hiei arched an eyebrow, “It’s disgusting. I tackled one of those plants and pulled out the smallest tooth I could find. It was covered in blood.”

“Well, I think it’s pretty.”

“That’s because you think disgusting things are pretty.”

Ophelia shrugged, not denying the accusation. Hiei turned to Kira, who was smiling at the two the way adults smile at small children playing. “I didn’t get you anything. I don’t know you well enough.”

“Well, that’s understandable,” Kira laughed, and Hiei narrowed his eyes. “Maybe you’ll get to know me sooner rather than later since we might be here for a while.”

“Oh? So you’re staying for good then?

“Yes, I think that’s for the best, right Lia?” 

Lia nodded enthusiastically, forgetting how the rest of the villagers had treated her, now only focused on the boy in front of her and the gift he gave her. Hiei shrugged, “Not like you had a choice. The fox would probably have slit your throats if you tried to leave, now that you know where this village is.”

Bingo . Count on Hiei to be blunt. At least someone was honest in this place, Kira thought. Hiei turned back to Ophelia, looking at her curiously as she gently touched the sharpest part of the tooth. “You.” He said coldly, “I am done with my rounds. Do you want to....I don’t know, whatever the village children do for fun?”

“Uh, do you want to climb trees?”

Hiei inhaled sharply through his nose and tried to contain the smile that threatened to crack along his face. “Yes. I would like that.”

Ophelia looked at Kira who gave her the thumbs up to climb trees and be a child for the first time in a long time. The pair ran off, Hiei vanishing into thin air, followed by Ophelia yelling at him that it wasn’t “fair” that he could run faster than her. Kira laughed softly as silence returned to the little part of the house that had become her safe haven. The archer demon from before walked past her in the distance and waved, holding the carcass of the bird she killed in her hand. Kira waved back feeling a semblance of normalcy pass through her. The archer continued towards the center of the village, where no doubt they would pluck the bird bare and use its meat for a feast. The children’s laughter returned. A group ran after the archer, eager to see the carcass. 

The sun hung in the sky right above Kira. Basking her in the warmth of its glow. Shining upon her black hair and olive skin, the tiny scratches that had decorated her face were now a faded memory. She inhaled the blood soaked air when another scent caught her attention. 

She blinked; the smell of roses in the distance, slowly approaching the village. 

Youko was returning. 

Chapter Text

The fire crackled under the giant cast iron cauldron, sending the aroma of cooked flesh and fresh vegetables into the noses of the villagers. The group of women and children approached the feeding grounds which had a slew of long tables and benches, built by the resident carpenter- who Kira finally was introduced to that evening when the woman, called Kimber, handed her crutches she fastened by hand. A thank you, the woman said with a bow, for healing her daughter of the pneumonia that threatened her life. Kira was taken aback by the generosity, but accepted the gift as it definitely made navigating the compound more bearable, as the alternative was haphazardly hopping on her good leg to the other side of the village. Another woman, who sewed, presented both Kira and Ophelia with new clothes that actually fit quite nicely- which definitely raised more questions than Kira wanted answers to, but once again, she accepted the gifts. 

Kira sat on the floor, near the warmth of the flames, tying her little sister’s hair in a tight braid so she could actually see for once. She hummed the song over Lia’s whining that she was hurting her and laughed when Hiei came over to scold her for being a baby. The chatter grew louder as many of the demons with animal spirits buried in their souls discussed the approaching group of men. Many of the other women, whose sense of smell was not as developed, rushed to their friends asking about husbands and sons who had left a week ago. 

But the roses overpowered them. 

“There,” Kira released Ophelia’s hair, “all those tears for nothing.”

Ophelia turned to her sister with a pout; and Kira was relieved to see her eyes returned to ice blue, sans the white overlay that stole the life from her infant eyes. Maybe now the children would hush hold their vile tongues and let her sister be. 

Lia looked back at Hiei, who had taken a seat in front of her. “How does it look?”

Hiei shrugged, “I hold no opinion on hair.” He absentmindedly touched his own black, spiky, locks which defied gravity. 

She tugged a few strands  from the front of her hair, “I like it in my face. So no one can see me.”

“Now stop that, I don’t want to do it over.” Kira held her sister’s hand tightly, preventing her from pulling out more of the braid. 

“Listen to you sister,” Hiei mumbled, “It looks better out of your face.”

Ophelia’s face lit up at the compliment. “Really? You mean that?”

“Hn,” Hiei turned away. 

Kira stifled a laugh when Ophelia elected to plop herself as close to Hiei as he would allow, which was against his arm. He didn’t move, but his eyes went wide at the sudden affection. She figured he contemplated throwing the girl off him, but changed his mind when a group of children walked past them, looked at Ophelia and laughed, before jogging away. He narrowed his eyes, looking back at them with a warning before returning to Ophelia. She began rambling off all the facts she knew about trees, either not phased by the children’s laughter or ignored them this time. 

James walked by them, pausing to look into the dense forest with narrowed green eyes which glowed against the moonlight. 

“He’s drunk,” He stated with a pinch of anger in his voice. 

“Oh?” Kira looked at the forest, she flicked her wolf ears to hear any sounds of a group approaching. She was shocked when the faint sound of laughter tickled the inside of her ears. “Sounds like they are in a good mood, though.”

James grunted. Displeased. “You can’t smell the alcohol?”

Kira shrugged, “The smell of dead bird cooking is too good to care about the stench of a man.”

The slightest smile escaped James clenched lips, before returning to a morose frown. A few women ran to James, begging him to reveal what he knows. He waved them away and approached the woods, lamenting that of course he would come home drunk.

Intrigue now captured Kira. The stories of infamous bandit, Youko Kurama, never mentioned a lust for the drink. Only his ruthlessness in battle which was outweighed by his demand for all the riches the demon world could provide him. Though maybe the stories had been wrong. If she had told her father this nightmare of a demon, an icon to those who fancied themselves evil , was in charge of a village of mostly women and children, and who dared to leave the safety of his plants to fetch them food and supplies to last the winter, he wouldn’t believe her for a minute. The pack leader would warn her that men like Youko always had an ulterior motive. He would betray his allies when it suited him; at least that’s what the stories had laid out. 

The laughter grew to an obnoxious volume, now signaling their rapid approach through the woods. The women could hardly contain their excitement when out of the woods all eleven men that had left with the silver-haired fox emerged from the darkness. The stench of cheap alcohol hit Kira’s nose- now understanding what James was complaining about- as did the sounds of off-key singing attacking her eardrums. And with them, two wagons filled with supplies being pulled by what humans called horses. 

Ophelia jumped up with a gasp, “I’ve only seen humans on those, sister.” She tapped Hiei aggressively, who pushed her hand away from him, “Do you know what those are?”

“Of course I know what horses are,” he barked, “I’m not an idiot.”

She wasn’t phased by Hiei’s tone. Ophelia looked back at her sister, whose face was drenched in confusion: of where he got those horses, all those supplies including enough meat to fill up one wagon entirely and another filled with boxes, or even the wagons. Kira supposed if anyone could...it would be Youko.

Youko, whose arms were extended to show off his loot, walked through the cluster of women who tried to hug him and praise his valiant efforts. Kira rolled her eyes at the display, suddenly no longer entranced by the seven foot monster- now revealing himself to be a very lucky drunk.

“Please please,” he slurred, “do not thank me. Thank these two idiots.” Youko grabbed one of the two; a brown haired demon with pointed ears and yellow eyes of a lizard. “This moron and his brother found a portal to human world-”

“Right next to a whole factory of shit!” the demon yelled over Youko, earning him a chokehold. 

“What did I say about interrupting me,” Youko scolded. 

“S-sorry Youko!” He whined. “I’m just excited is all!”

Youko released him, grabbing him by the shoulders and presenting him to the adoring fans. “Amar here and Akul- where’s Akul- Akul stop making out with your wife and get over here!” Akul stumbled towards Youko, with a huge smile on his face that mimicked his brothers. “These two idiots infiltrated the human world and dismantled two buildings filled to the brim with food and medical supplies.”

“And alcohol, don’t forget the alcohol,” a nameless demon yelled from the wagon holding up two bottles of clear liquid. 

“Ah yes, how could I forget,” the fox demon laughed, “who would have thought such weaklings would prove themselves useful!”

Everyone cheered.

Hiei and Kira exchanged silent looks which translated to: is he always like this? And He’s an idiot. While Ophelia remained locked on the two black horses grunting as the demons crowded them. 

Not everyone was cheering though. James appeared in front of Youko, his eyes narrowed in rage which only earned a laugh from the older demon. 

“Yes,” James mocked, “because alcohol is so important to the survival of this village.”

Youko shoved his two new favorites gently out of the way and approached the annoyed dog with nothing but a smile and eyes daring James to provoke him more. “Don’t be a buzzkill, Jameson.”

“You reek of alcohol and bad decisions.”

“Well then,” Youko pulls a skinny bottle of booze hidden in the pocket of his bottoms, “get on my level, dog.”

They stared at each other for several tense seconds. The demons who weren’t distracted by unloading the supplies held their collective breaths. If one, or both, bared their fangs, this night would end in blood, sweat, and tears. But James clenched his jaw shut, shoving the brick that rested in his chest down into his stomach, to fester for another day. He didn’t grab the bottle, however- he wasn’t going to stoop to the drunken fox’s level and allow him to be bested by experience. Instead he shifted out of the way so Youko could see the three other demons who had not moved from the cauldron. Two of the three staring daggers at the fox. 

“Hm,”  Youko shoved the bottle into James' chest, daring him to drop it which the dog opted against, and walked towards the group. Golden eyes focused on Kira who raised her demon energy at the sight of him. If Youko took offense to such a response, he didn’t let on: “It’s nice to see you awake and...well...not quite on your feet.” He shifted his attention to Ophelia, who attempted to hide behind Hiei. “Scared?”

“You’re being a drunk fool,” Hiei scolded, “Of course she’s scared. She has no idea who you are.”

“Stranger danger,” Youko knelt down, “That’s a smart reaction, little one. And what was your name again?”

She doesn’t respond, instead looking at her sister. Kira shifted in her seat and forced a smile past her lips. “Lia. She likes to be called Lia.” 

“Oh? Is Lia a mute?”

“No,” Hiei stood up, now at eye level with the crouching Youko, “You’re acting like a moron and scaring her. Go bother someone else.”

Youko laughed at the red-eyed demon, who gritted his teeth and clenched his fists, “Are you mad that I left you behind again, boy?”

“Hn,” Hiei crossed his arms over his chest, “I’m mad that your disgusting breath is in my face.”

The fox demon laughed at his smaller friend, ruffling his hair as he stood up- and if Lia hadn’t been clutching the fabric of his black shirt, Hiei might have drawn his sword despite the swift consequence of such an action.

“Lord Youko,” a soft female voice appeared behind him. Youko turned to see Hilde, one of the other nurses who frequented the main house. She was meeker than Sem, and a bit warmer than the third nurse- Meeka- who often hid in the basement taking inventory. “Sorry to interrupt, but I just wanted to let you know what a help Ms. Kira has been during this time.”

The silver-haired demon arched an eyebrow. Hilde, trying to be polite,  nodded in the direction of Kira. “Ah yes, Kira,” he said, looking at the wolf-demon, “What has our guest done for us?”

“The children became ill after you left; she cured them using the plants from around the village. She is quite trained.”

Kira didn’t much like being spoken about as if she wasn’t sitting there. She also didn’t much like she couldn’t move to stand up without looking as drunk as Youko certainly was- cursing how slow her leg was deciding to heal. And while she appreciated Hilde vouching for her before Sem- who was oddly missing from the reunion- could curse both girls’ names to the leader of the pack, she would rather it didn’t sound like the violet haired woman was begging for Youko to show mercy. 

“Hrm,” Youko pondered, not taking his eyes off Kira, who was emboldened to stare right back at him, “I guess we have use for you, yet.”

*******

The new morning sun threatened to breach the horizon. Kira stood against the balcony, her makeshift wooden crutches not too far from her, staring into the blackness of the dark forest. Every few minutes, she gently put weight on her bad leg. Tightening pressure wrapped around her nerves, and she lifted the leg back in the air. Waited. Tried again with the unused muscles straining and screaming at her. But Kira continued on, taking longer breaks in between and breathing calmly.

She wasn’t paying mind to the pain. Instead, stared into the distance where flames had once risen. The sky gave way to light pink and purple as the yellow ball of light slowly broke through the night’s clouds. A scentless wind wisped past her raven hair, sending it whipping through the air. Still, she did not move save for the slow ascent and descent of her leg. Engrossed in her thoughts, she didn’t hear the door slide open behind her. 

“How long will you be occupying this space?” Youko’s low voice bellowed into her ears as it shattered the unnatural silence. Kira turned, unamused at the disruption. There he stood in the door, arms over his chest. 

It had been hours since she saw him. While the rest of the village engaged in celebration for their bounty, eating large helpings of the stew that had been cooking before the return of Youko, and reaping the rewards of their pillaging, Youko disappeared into the home. Sem, who opted to skip out on the festivities, made herself known by finding James and scolding him for how he ran things while Youko was gone, before following the silver-haired fox into the house. No doubt, Kira pondered, to invalidate everything Hilde had said about her. 

Not that it would matter.

“Am I intruding?” she returned his neutral gaze, willing the beating of her heart to slow to a resting pace.

Youko smiled sardonically.  “I come here for silent contemplation. I’m afraid you would be a distraction.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want that.” Kira pushed the weight of her body off the balcony and turned to make her way to the door. She decided to conveniently forget the assistance of the crutches. Putting a bit more weight on her healing leg to give the illusion she was steady on her feet. She ignored her body's protest, but Youko instead placed his hands up in a sign of defeat and stopped her advancement. 

“Please, don’t wound yourself further on my account.”

Kira gritted her teeth, allowing her fangs to bare ever so slightly as a warning. “Save your concern,” she growled, “My sister and I will not be a burden upon you for much longer.”

“Oh? This is a new development.” His voice dropped, raspy words sending tingles down her spine. 

“We have to bury the pack,” she stands tall, a feat that impressed even Youko, as she shifted most of her demon energy to accommodate the broken leg’s inability to hold weight. Kira further tests the fox’s patience staring directly into his narrowed gold eyes. 

“I’m afraid I can not allow that.”

“Excuse me?” Kira faltered slightly, her leg giving way. She gripped the banister for support, cursing her entire body for betraying her. “You are not in charge of me.”

“I am in charge of these people-”

“Your minions?”

“My subjects,” he answered sharply. 

She clenched her jaw; were any of the bedtime stories true? He sighed, closing his eyes as if to free himself from the crushing judgement of her gaze. He continued, “I didn’t ask for this responsibility.”

“Then my sister and I departing will be to your benefit. Two less to concern yourself with.”

“Humans,” he opened his eyes and she couldn't help but soften her face at those two worn gold coins. “They’ve been spotted near. Your leaving could alert them to our location; putting everyone at risk.”

Kira assumed she was a prisoner. A death sentence commuted to life surrounded by a mis-mosh of demons from all over the demon world, and the warden a criminal himself. A bandit. Foxes weren’t known for pack mentality. While they may form groups, they were solitary hunters. And while Youko attracted demons to his ranks, at the mere thought of reaping the benefits of his skills, he didn’t form connections with them. Bonds. Like the wolves in the Nisshoku pack formed from birth.  

But...and she thought...that was a correct characterization at one time. Now before her, a leader with the same disrupted eyes her father had once. Laying down his armor in front of a stranger in an effort to convince her to stay to save the life of these weaklings he called subjects. To save her life. And her sisters’. 

But-

“You understand, however, I am the last of the Nisshoku pack- one of the largest remaining wolf youkai packs in the region. I have a responsibility, as the daughter of the pack leader. Their souls can not enrich the earth without a proper send off and they will doom to become rabid ghouls. A plague. I must put them to rest.” 

Youko’s eyes narrowed and the visage of villainy returned. But Kira held firm, standing as straight as she could with what little demon energy she had left in her. Honor. She still had her honor- if it was the only part of her left. Youko’s demon energy overwhelmed her. Only comparable to her father, and he was gone- a testament to the power of the humans lurking just beyond the barrier. 

And she wanted to travel with a child?

She had to.

“You helped quell the illness, so I’m told.”

She nodded.

“I see,” he lowered his demon energy, “If you can find it in you to hold fast this foolish plan until the sunsets tomorrow evening, I may find some men to escort you...and aid you in putting to rest your family.”

Kira's eyes went wide- she did not anticipate an offer of help from the unamused demon before her. But the help would be beneficial. “I can...find it in me to wait.”

“Good,” Youko walked towards her and she clenched her fists in a veiled attempt to feel strong in the presence of a killer. He stopped inches from her body and seemed to tower over her despite her reaching the tip of his chiseled jaw. She didn’t divert her eyes. Staring right into his golden orbs searching for any indication he was going to rescind his kind offer and end any talk of leaving right there. He, instead, stared into her bright browns with a sense of...wonder. He smelled her potent fear of him, but she didn’t cower like a pup. She didn’t impress upon him any savior worship that some of the other men and women in the village did, but she never outwardly disrespected him. 

Kira was strong. He could tell. She gritted her teeth and hid the pain in her leg just to stand at his level. No one would dare to do such a thing, except for James- who earned that right over the last several years of partnership- but he’s only known this wolf for mere hours. And yet. 

Youko finally smiled, chuckling, “You’ve made yourself useful, Kira. Would be such a waste to kill you now.”

He brushed past her but she didn’t relent for a second. 

Instead, Kira brought her fingers to her lips to stifle the small laugh that escaped- and he stopped.

Stopped but didn't turn. 

He couldn’t let her see the smile her soft laugh caused.

Chapter Text

Kira did not expect much from others. Raised in isolation, she relied on her pack for her survival. Seeking aid from anyone outside their circle was not worth the risk of betrayal. 

My, how that worked out.

She swallowed that bitter pill. Accepting that she and her sister would have to bury the pack on their own- and perhaps flee the wrath of the fox demon and his band of criminals. Imagine her surprise, when two hours before the sun set, Youko entered what would be considered her room, and informed her they would leave within the hour–after silence for the entire day. She exchanged a look with Lia, who mouthed “told you so” before returning to her important work- knitting a scarf for Hiei as a thank you for his gift. Kira wanted to inform Ophelia that she never actually made her concerns known- but decided to bite her tongue. 

As the sun slowly made its descent over the horizon, Kira and Lia made their way out of the house. Earlier in the day, the seamstress, who Kira now knew as Letti, returned to the two girls the clothes that had been on their back when they entered the village, completely restored. She thanked the woman, even as the smell of human blood reached her nose, impressed with the craftsmanship. The Nisshoku pack wore a black leather jerkin on top, stitched with colored thread that corresponded with their rank, and matching black leather shorts for easy movement- the men usually wearing loose fitting trousers instead. Both with their packs emblem tattooed on the right side-black tribal art that takes the form of a wolf howling at the moon- in the center. 

Kira noted the irony of the silver stitching around her jerkin (representing her affiliation with the royalty) and the fact that she was housed with the notorious silver fox. Destiny and her wicked sense of humor. She also noted Lia’s stitching- black, muted- and frowned. No emblem graced the shorts of her sister. She also told Lia “soon”- that she had to wait till she learned to hunt. Even as the other pups in the village proudly wore theirs. 

“This is uncomfortable,” Lia whined, pulling at the tight fabric, “I want to wear the dress Letti made for me.”

“Later,” Kira looked into the black forest, “This is to honor our family.”

Lia pouted and plopped herself on the floor. It was about the time Youko said to meet. Near the northern part of the village, where the plants swayed blissfully in the chilly twilight wind; no longer aggravated by the presence of the two strangers. Kira remained hesitant, even as Hiei emerged from the black woods outside the village. 

“No humans,” he said blankly, “Are you sure you want to go back? It doesn’t look good over there.”

Kira blinked at Hiei’s sudden arrival, “Where did you come from exactly?”

Hiei huffed, “Youko wanted me to scout the area; make sure no humans were lurking around. Looks like they took whatever they thought was valuable and burned down the rest.”

“Are there ghosts,” Lia trembled, biting the side of her lip. 

“What a stupid question,” Hiei rolled his eyes, “Of course they’re ghosts now. They died a horrible and violent death.”

“That’s quite enough, Hiei.” Youko emerged from the wooded area with three new demons Kira had seen around the village. “No need to scare the child.”

“I’m preparing her,” he countered, “We don’t need her screaming like a baby when one of them jumps out and tries to eat her.” 

Ophelia’s eyes went wide as Hiei chuckled at the fear radiating off the young girl. Kira would have smacked him upside the head if she thought she could get away with such an action. Instead, she moved her eyes to the three new allies. 

“James regretfully can not make it,” Youko continued, “I brought some of my more capable men.” 

He introduced them. First was Sazu, a phoenix demon- one of the few left in existance after being hunted for generations- and was the shortest with a light orange complexion and long fiery hair that feathered like a bird. Next to him was Felipe, a humanoid demon with elflish ears and long black nails who stood nearly as tall as Kira herself. Finally, Skull. That wasn’t his given name, he assured the women. He lost his lips due to disease leaving a Glasgow like smile permanently on his face. And in an effort to embrace his new reality, tattooed dark circles around his yellow eyes. His bone white hair and fang-like teeth added to the look. 

“All three have special abilities that I felt would be beneficial to this undertaking.”

“Also if we die, Youko probably wouldn’t be too broken up,” Skull laughed, chomping on his teeth. 

“And we are the only three brave enough to help,” Felipe added. 

“ And  how could we say no to a beautiful woman?” Sazu bowed. 

Hiei rolled his eyes. “Tsk,” he scoffed, “Let’s go. Daylight has almost left us- we’ll be burying burnt corpses in the dark. More chances to see ghouls.”

Youko reminded himself to teach Hiei the meaning of tack when they returned. But he was more entranced by the look on Kira’s face as she scanned each demon. Analyzing them. She could sense the moderate demon energy radiating off them- and maybe Skull was right- Youko wouldn’t cry over their corpses if they were dumb enough to die. But she remained stone. Not letting on if she was pleased or angered by his choice of help. Only her brown eyes, wilted in sadness, gave away any emotion. 

They navigated slowly through the dense black forest. Crouched low, listening intently for any unwanted guests. Sazu and Felipe took the front- both had impeccable eye sight in the dark-followed by Skull who scanned the area with his macabre smile, looking like a fearsome ghoul himself. Kira and Ophelia lurked behind him, holding hands as they kept focus on the ground-overstepping pot holes and rocks. Youko and Hiei took the rear. What was left of the sun was eclipsed by the shadows of the clouds, and by the time they entered the pack's territory, the fireflies would be the only source of light. 

The air smelled of flame as they approached. The wind carried the unnatural chill that burned the back of Kira’s throat. She gripped Ophelia’s hand tighter and hummed the song Farore taught her. She sought the comfort of his sister, but would not be granted a reprieve. 

“NO!” Ophelia shouted and stopped dead in her tracks. The group froze in position, the three men in front on alert in case the sound of her shrill voice caught unwanted attention.  

Kira jumped a few steps forward, startled, “Lia what in Leto are you doing?” She whispered yelled, grabbing her sister’s hand again to pull her along. “We’re almost there. Just beyond these trees.”

Ophelia wept and attempted to pull her hand back, “I don’t want to!”

The wolf demon squeezed her sister’s hand; taking a breath to calm her senses. The pain in her leg throbbed suddenly and she cursed her pride for leaving behind her crutches. 

“Lia, sweetheart, we talked about this. We have to bury our family.”

Lia shook her head violently in response. “I see them, they're angry! I don’t WANT to!”

“Who does she see?” Felipe snapped quietly.

“I don’ see nothing,” Skull growled, “I have the best eyesight here.”

“No one is challenging you, Skull,” Youko scolded, “She’s seeing ghosts.” He glared at Hiei who suddenly found the ground below him interesting. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Lia,” Kira huffed, “Let’s keep moving.”

“No, no, no, no, NO!” She ripped her hand from her sister. “I see them. They’re angry. Their eyes are bleeding and there’s a black hole where their mouth is supposed to be! They are screaming at me to go away! I won’t go! I’m scared.” 

Ophelia threw herself to the ground, shielding her milky blue eyes with her hands so tightly, Kira thought she might try to claw them out- again. Tears streamed down her cheeks as the volume of her sobs increased. The hair on the back of the other demons’ necks started to bristle. Energies rising. 

“It’s fine,” Hiei spoke up finally, “I’ll stay here with her. Go bury your pack.”

Kira wanted to protest, but sensed the unease around her. They were pushing their luck. “Okay then. We’ll be quick.” She limped past her escort, clenching her teeth until she swore they would crack– she was so close to home, and her tiny burden was causing a scene. 

Youko nodded at the three demons to proceed with Kira before turning to Hiei. “Stay close. Stay quiet.”

Kira had hoped one or two of her pack would be waiting for her return... 

At least, that was the lie she told herself. She felt them die. She watched them burn. But still, she hoped? Hope was a fleeting dream at best; now faced with the cruel reality- no more chances to run. And she questioned her own motives for coming back. Did she really want to put them to rest? Or just clear her conscience that she did everything she could . 

Another lie she whispered before bed. 

Truth was she ran as the flames nipped at her heels, and swore never to look back. Now the fire was gone, but she still felt the heat clutching her chest. The charred skeleton of her pack’s territory now mocked her as the wind carried the smell of ash and flesh into her nose. The ash was their bodies . She inhaled her people. She couldn’t even acknowledge unrecognizable bodies scattered on the ground. The gutted huts they once lived in. Nothing was left to mourn .

Weighed down by her guilt- her failure- her leg gave way and she nearly collapsed to her knees as her sister did, if not for Youko. The silver fox grabbed her by her elbow, keeping her steady.

“Don’t. You must show strength. You are this pack’s leader now. You must stand firm even if it kills you.” 

She wanted to scream- What pack!- but noticed how his men quietly and effectively gathered the bodies they could, dug holes, or inspected the huts that were still intact. She understood. And through the pain stood up straight, swallowed the tears that wanted to fall, and accepted her reluctant role. Youko released her and joined his men.

She wondered if her father was watching. 

If he would be proud. 

Hiei circled Ophelia, looking into the dark forest for the monsters that plagued the strange child.. Not even the fireflies illuminated the night. The sky felt the moon’s absence. Blackness. He looked into the abyss, however, and nothing stared back- at least from what he could see. Ophelia trembled on the cold wet ground, eyes still clamped shut. 

“You really don’t see anything?” She whimpered. 

“Nothing. Just the trees.”

She slowly opened her eyes.

Just a few yards away, the ghoulish figure with holes for eyes opened its mouth to a waterfall of maggots and blood. Whipping its tail against the fireflies that dared to get too close. Its white skin stitched together with blue veins that pulse across its broken body. It screamed.

Ophelia yelped and buried her head in her knees. “You don’t hear that!”

Hiei, confused by her fear of the invisible, knelt in front of her and gently placed his hands on her shoulders. If she hadn’t smelt the fire that burns from ki, she would have mistaken him for a ghost. His frigid hands sent a chill down her spine in the same way it warmed her. He shook her slightly. “What you are seeing can not hurt you-” He wanted to say, it’s not real , but it was real enough to her. 

Ophelie sniffled, “I wish I was brave like you.”

“Hn,” Hiei bitterly chuckled, “it comes with practice.”

She cautiously lifted her head, meeting his oddly comforting red eyes that glared at her from two slits. She didn’t take it personally. “They’re whispering all around me,” she continued, not daring to look just over his shoulder.

“What do they whisper?”

She paused, her milky blue orbs shuddered it seemed. Back and forth- from ice to snow. “That they hate me. Like you'll hate me one day.”

“That’s okay, I already hate you.”

She let out an exasperated sigh while he chuckled- an alien sound coming from the young boy. He shook his head, “They died violently, full of rage. They are just taking it out on you because you allow them the privilege of your second sight. Reject them, and they will find something else to prey on.” 

Hiei sat comfortably in front of her as if to shield her from the ghoulish beasts that lurk, even if he would say he denied her accusations. But her face changed. The smooth, round, face like a sickly peach, sharpened. Fear drained from her eyes, replaced with two narrow- empty looking slits. 

“You do not understand.” Her voice was low. Hiei tilted his head, interested. “It doesn’t work that way.”

“And how does it work?” his acerbic tone matched hers. “You fear invisible enemies in the night, but can drain a living thing of life? Pick an act and stick with it. Are you the child who cries over the dark or are you….”

Hiei stopped. He noticed her breathing had slowed to a dangerous pace- or was she even breathing? He could barely make out the details of her features through the darkness- but he could see the light from a random demon’s campsite a few miles out. He could make out the damage from the trees to his right- spirit energy had clipped the bark- and some of the animals that scurried past them in fear. The fur on their backs at attention. He could even see the outline of her form, the paleness of her skin, but he couldn’t...see her.

“I’ll ask again: What are you?”

“Stop asking me questions you do not want the answer to.” She responded blankly. “They asked the same questions.” She pointed over her shoulder. “And look what happened to them?’

“Are you threatening me?” He tensed, but did not go for his sword that rested next to him. Never too far, but felt like miles away. 

She broke the night with her smile, “Never. You’re my best friend. We are going to be doing this for a very long time.”

“Doing what?”

“Killing time. Killing things.”

“We haven’t killed anything together.”

“We will- it will be so much fun. And then, you’ll figure it out. But until then,” She pressed her finger to her lips. “Can you keep a secret?”

He thought about this for a moment. She wasn’t an immediate threat- at least he willed that thought into his mind. Let it repeat. Not a threat. All an act. She dropped her finger and nodded. “I trust you, Hiei.” She gingerly took his hand; he didn’t flinch. Her hands were as cold as his. Like a corpse. He didn’t question her assertion. He healed her. He didn’t tell her secrets. Even the ones he didn’t know. What he questioned, his trust in her. 

An image flashed in his head. The head of a human ripped in half. Blood and brains sprinkle the gold ornate walls. The bright wood floors. He could even taste the blood in his mouth before the image evaporated as if it never existed. Interesting . 

A sudden frigid wind washed over them like a knife. A painful wolf’s howl against their ears like an echo right before your body succumbs to sleep. Loud and quiet at the same time. The air that had once been heavy with rejection lifted. Replaced with...roses. 

“Sister did it.” Ophelia said, her eyes returning to the wide open blues and looking over Hiei’s shoulder. “They’re gone.”

“At rest,” Hiei takes back his hand, “Good. I couldn’t stand the smell much longer. Not like blood and rotting corpses. Smelled like-”

“Mold.” She finished his sentence. “And spoiled eggs.”

“Right, like…” He stopped and snapped his eyes back to her. Ophelia looked like...her again. A child age six. Small face with big cheeks. Bright blue eyes. Her hair an absolute mess as usual. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she almost sounded confused. “The ghosts are gone. We can go home now.”

Hiei nodded, relenting that received all the answers he could pull out of her for the night. Or maybe they would sneak out to the edge of the forest when their respective nightmares rattle their sleep. Where they could speak more freely, out of earshot of the dead or living. He rose from the ground, extending his hand to help his tiny friend. She took his aid, again, and he pulled her from ground- her bare legs covered in filth. He wondered how practical shorts were for battle. 

“It’s for agility.” She said absentmindedly, not exactly understanding the full power of her words. Empty. Like a parrot. 

Now Hiei’s red eyes go wide, “I’m going to have to ask you to stop doing that already .”

She huffed, “I can’t help it!” She crossed her arms over her chest. “It just happens.”

“We are going to have to work on that, then.”

The rest of the group emerged. Kira, this time, leading the men. Her head held high while tears brimmed at the edges of her brown eyes but dare not fall. She barely looked at her sister, “We buried who we could find.”

“I don’t hear them anymore,” Ophelia said meekly, biting the side of her lip and looking at the ground. “I’m sorry.” Her voice trembled and Kira sighed, grabbing her sister’s small hand. 

“My fault. Father would never allow me to go to funerals of fallen packs. He knew the damage that could do to a child. I just-thought I was alone.” She looked behind her, Youko stood in front of the other three demons, covered in the same dirt as his allies. “I guess I wasn’t. Let’s go home. Youko tells me James figured out your favorite soup- he’s making it right now for us.”

A sparkle returned to Ophelia’s eyes. The pair walked together, followed by Felipe, Skull, and Sazu, to keep a watchful eye. Youko and Hiei paused, hanging behind until the group vanished into the darkness. 

“Well?” Youko questioned, leaving his eyes on the woods. 

“She definitely was seeing something ,” Hiei responded, “it seems like she can see ghosts and ghouls- whether it was her pack or not, I don’t know. She didn’t tell me what they looked like.”

“Hrm,” Youko shifted, “No bodies remained of the children.”

“Oh? Maybe they were burnt completely?”

“By human flames? Would have left something behind- if it had been you,” Youko smiled, “We wouldn’t even have found the outline of a corpse.”

“Hn. So what are you thinking?”

Youko shrugged, “We found most of the adults. Charred beyond recognition. I was shocked that Kira was able to identify her father when we discovered him. Still holding his sword. We buried him with it in a mass grave.”

“And?”

Youko paused, narrowing his eyes at his own thoughts. “No children. Burnt everything, but did not take the valuables. A woman was hanging from a tree, she was gutted before she was burned. Kira told me she was usually the caretaker of the children.”

“So-”

“Traffickers.”

Hiei nodded though he wasn’t exactly sure if he agreed. The lack of children could attest to that- but females were valuable. As were the wolf tails that sold on the black market to create tacky jackets for human women to wear as trophies.

“Do you really think that’s why the pack was attacked?”

Youko didn’t immediately answer. He weighed the outcome of his next words. The two girls were found with humans around them- monologuing as humans tend to do. An obnoxious habit that ended in the death of the few who attempted that action with him. They said something to her. “To Kira’s credit, did anyone really ask why?” No. Humans attacking demons. Normalcy. He finally shifted his eyes to Hiei. “What do you think? I value your opinion in this situation.”

Hiei wanted to mock the 300 year old fox for taking advice from a seven-year-old boy he’d just met. But he also felt a certain rise in confidence when Youko looked at him as a peer instead of a child. Pride. That someone as strong as the thief would view Hiei more of a confidant than some of his older allies.  But Hiei was battling another feeling that made his stomach drop.  

“Demon’s that look like humans are worth triple. Could be why they tracked them down- why the human coward directed all his energy towards Kira.” But that doesn’t explain everything, does it? “We could just ask them?”

Youko nodded, “All in due time.”

Chapter Text

Two months passed, the dawn of winter approached as Kira and Ophelia settled into their new normal. Youko granted them sanctuary in the main abode, alongside the likes of him, James, Hiei and the three nurses. Kira’s room faced the garden she tended, which grew tenfold since she became a fixture in the village. And even as the colder months crept through the forest like a grim reaper, the garden continued to grow lush with life; a combination of Kira’s demon energy and utilizing the heat from Hiei’s pyrokinetics. 

Kira would greet the new morning’s on the balcony, a cup of tea from James warming her calloused hands, and stare at the vegetation like a concerned mother watching over her children. Once day broke over the gray clouds, she would make her way to her project and harvest what she could, plant replacements, turn soil, and extend her territory further into the woods. Her job to keep the village fed and well she took with utmost conviction, and she was thanked handsomely by her new pack. 

Her sister didn’t seem as inclined to assimilate to the norms of the village.

On the other side of the house, in the same small dark room her body was placed in two months prior, Ophelia would often be found sitting up in her bed and staring at the wall she shared with Hiei. 

In crushing silence.

Her milky eyes seemed to glow in the darkness. Her mind a labyrinth. 

Past. Present. Future. Always changing. 

She would sit there until a frustrated “fine!” echoed through the cracks in the wall, and her chapped lips curled into a smile. 

Hiei would appear in the door of her room, his own red eyes glowing. “Ready for your training, I suppose?”

For two months, before the sun completely engulfed the sky, Hiei and Ophelia snuck into the northernmost part of the forest and away from the prying eyes of Sem. There, in a clearing, surrounded by black trees and their newly formed red leaves, Hiei tried to unlock the secrets of Ophelia’s powers. What he learned didn’t surprise him. She was able to extract memories or inject images into the minds of people near her- especially if she felt threatened by them. A defense mechanism, he mused.  She might have even had the ability of foresight, from the carefully constructed sentences she littered between their meetings. The nightmares she had of their deaths, which came in waves- she described- and often as symbols. Never, she assured him, did she get the whole story. 

At least, that’s what she told him. Whether or not she was telling him the truth was another matter altogether. A question that coiled around his mind at night when he laid awake lamenting at the lack of progress they were making. In those trainings, he would create memories in his mind, like a movie, that she could relate verbally as if she had been there- though she lacked the emotion tied to the event. A consequence, he thought, of the fact his memories were fabricated. If he used a real memory, he noticed, he would feel the pain. 

One day, he used the memory of when he slaughtered his original allies. Not only did he relive the pain of exerting his child-like muscles- the throbbing in his forearms, the vibrations in his biceps when his sword can be in contact with his foes- but also the pain of the leader’s head being sliced open. 

That wasn’t fun. 

And he would have passed out from the pain had Ophelia not suddenly switched to a happy memory- when he first found Kurama. And while he was grateful for the shift, he wasn’t exactly pleased that she was able to dig through his mind with hardly any effort. 

That was the second thing he learned. 

While other demons would be drained from using their psychic energies, Ophelia skipped away from their training as if rejuvenated. She lacked balance. Unnatural.  

But all of that was of no concern for Hiei. No. He was more interested in the ability she either could not replicate, or flat out refused to: life draining. Or soul stealing. He hadn’t decided on a name for the technique; he couldn’t unless he saw it again. But anytime he gave her the opportunity, she would cry and tantrum like a toddler- well she was a child- and he would be forced to cut the training short at the risk of drawing the attention of the dog, the wolf, or the bitch nurse.  

One time, they came close to being discovered. Hiei, growing tired of the infant act Ophelia put on when she was being stubborn, captured a medium sized rodent that looked like a cross between a human world opossum and a badger. Violent creators, but also weak. He set it on her and disappeared into the tree line. As it ran at her small form, teeth bare and snarling with a low growl, Hiei had hoped she would produce the same outcome as the plant.

Instead, Ophelia, having never seen such a vile creature with mustard eyes and matted black fur, screamed so loud it frightened the crows living in the trees and ran towards civilization. 

Of course the whole village heard. 

And that was the last time Hiei really tried. The verbal lashing he received from Youko- which included demoralizing his efforts, accusations of being a predator himself, and the reminder that he was also a child- was enough to keep him from ever talking to the little tattle-tale again. 

Of course, he didn’t stop helping her. Especially when she returned that night with a gift she made for him, as an apology. A scarf. He had accepted the symbol of a truce with the same unenthusiasm he was known for and slammed the door in her face. He still spent those early mornings bringing Ophelia into the woods and helping her better understand her powers. Though no more real-life scenarios. 

After their training, once the sun burned through the cold air, Ophelia would be ushered into the mock-schoolhouse with the rest of the demon children, while Hiei did his patrols around the perimeter. Ophelia didn’t care for these hours spent away from her friend and her sister. Sem led the small class of children and taught them some basic life skills she felt were important to the upbringing of kind and respectful children. Knitting. Growing herbs, which she would sometimes reluctantly give up to Kira to teach, and proper manners passed down from her old clan. Ophelia found these days dedicated to Sem’s teaching hard to engage in. Her focus often flew out the window, staring into the distance and allowing her mind to take her consciousness away. 

She engaged in repetitive behaviors– Biting her nails, Shaking her leg, Tapping her fingers against the floor. Or worse,  using the knitting needles to dig holes in the flimsy foundation while a chorus of giggles erupted from the other children. And Sem found the distractions to be a direct insult to her teaching. 

A week after the incident with the rodent Hiei sent her, Ophelia was feeling particularly flushed with self-loathing. She knew Hiei was still sore with her, even if he did still join her in the woods and ask her questions she couldn’t possibly articulate the answers to. He did so now with a lack of urgency, would roll his eyes frequently, and lean against his favorite tree as if bored with her entire existence. She heard how Youko scolded him. Kira excused the fox’s behavior with the curse of bitter liquid loosening his tongue and clouding his judgement. Ophelia wished Kira would just tell her he was drunk instead of hiding behind pretty words. 

A crack against her small hands snapped Lia out of her daydream as pain rushed through her fingers. 

“How many times do I have to tell you, child!” Sem screamed, “Pay attention!”

Ophelia grabbed her wounded hand. Her knuckles screaming as a red bruise enveloped them. Tears brimmed her blue eyes and she swallowed the cry that wished to escape her mouth. Laughter from the other children nearly drowned out the rest of Sem’s shouts. “Look at your plant,” she threw her hands up in frustration after setting eyes on the once green plant, now brown and wilted, “What did you do to it?!” 

Ophelia’s breathing increased. She tried to focus on what Sem was scolding her for, but found the budding pain in her hand and rage in her heart a distraction. But she could still hear them laughing. Mocking taunts. 

“Your sister gave us these flowers to practice!” Sem continued, grabbing the back of Lia’s hair and forcing the six year old to stare at her destruction. “You know how much energy it takes to create these plants! Do you even care? All the effort your poor sister puts into this and look how you thank her. Why does everything you touch die?” Sem released her hair by aggressively shoving her and walked to the front of the class, complimenting the other children’s lush green plants budding with different colors, representing the amount of energy they gave for life. 

Ophelia sat there, clutching her hand. Breathing aggressively as she watched that woman pat every child’s head with appreciation. How every child smiled up at their instructor and then turned with a snarl thrown at Ophelia. And she replayed that line over and over in her head. Tumbling through memories she had not experienced. Everything you touch dies . You can’t give life, only take it . And it cut her deeper than Hiei’s sword when it struck the leader of the thieves he used to associate with. And it hurt more every time it grew in her head, like a tumor. But her mouth was shut- and she wondered if Sem ever felt the pain of biting her own tongue. And she wondered how Sem would feel if her mouth couldn’t move. And if all those vile things she said would cut her like tiny little knives. If she would still be as terrible a woman as she was, if she was robbed of her ability to speak? 

Sem’s words were replaced by guttural coughs that rocked her entire being. She hacked and sputtered, her hand flying to her mouth. And when she removed it, a pool of blood formed in her palm. Before Sem could even acknowledge, she was brought to her knees with a series of more brutal coughs that tore at her throat and esophagus. The students' muffled voices of concern could barely breach the sound of her violent hacks as she suddenly spat up a tiny metal rectangle. A pause, she hesitantly picked up the item, only to find it as sharp...as a razor blade. Eyes went wide, but she was overcome by another series of coughs that sent blood pouring from her mouth. Children screamed into the village as the red liquid stained the wood floor of the school. 

And Ophelia only broke from her funny dream when Sem pointed at her, an animalistic scream escaping what was left of her mouth as it waterfalled with blood. 

Kira stood before Ophelia, with Youko and James on either side of her, and all three with their arms crossed over their chests as if both on guard and trying to express their disappointment. Though, they weren’t sure if disappointment was appropriate. Sitting with her knees against her chest, Ophelia tried to hide behind her hair, as if anticipating the scolding on the tip of their tongues, while attempting to be a vision of innocence. 

Kira began, slowly, “Tell us what happened?” She forced her voice to be neutral as opposed to accusatory in an effort to keep her young sister from shutting down completely. 

“I don’t know,” Ophelia muttered, her voice sounding as small as she felt under the gaze of the three adults in the room. “Sem-san started coughing up blood. And all the children were yelling.”

“What happened before that?” Kira pushed, “Before Sem started coughing.”

Ophelia looked away for a moment. Pause. Trying to keep her mind as blank as Youko’s stare. Then she looked at her sister, with big pitiful blue eyes and extended her hand, “Sem hit me with her stick and yelled at me.”

No one moved for a few moments. Ophelia froze with her bruised hand already showing signs of purple and red. James was the one who arched an eyebrow at his two comrades and advanced towards Ophelia. He knelt down and took her hand gently. 

“Hm, can you make a fist?” She complied with the demand, winching appropriately. “I’ll see if Issara can make some ice to help with the swelling.” He looks back at Kira and Youko- both statues staring at Ophelia with vacant and narrowed gazes. Offended by their coldness towards the young girl, he continued. “The children confirmed Sem smacked your sister. Pulled her hair before she walked away.”

At this, Youko shifted, “They said she didn’t move from her seat. Just sat there, the whole time.”

James turned back to Ophelia and smiled warmly at her, “I’ll be right back with some ice and maybe candy? Will that make you feel better?”

Ophelia nodded enthusiastically and James patted her on the shoulder before taking his leave; making sure to throw the two other demons an annoyed glare. How could they just look at her like she was a threat? And speak to her as if she wasn’t there?

Kira sighed, “Youko...do you mind if I speak to my sister alone?”

“Of course. I’ll check in with Sem.” He threw Ophelia one more look; his golden eyes softened just a bit when she didn't return his stare; opting to look directly at her older sister. He left, though, with the slightest headache brewing between his nose.

Once alone, Kira dropped to her knees in front of Lia and grabbed her shoulders tightly. “What did you do?” She asked sternly, “What did you do to Sem?”

“Nothing,” Lia squeaked, “You’re hurting me sister.”

“You need to tell me what you did right now?” Kira’s panicked brown eyes stared deeply into Lia’s blues, watching as they began to fade. She shook her, a little harder than she wanted. “What did father tell you about thinking nasty thoughts?”

“She hurt me!” Ophelia cried, the tears that had threatened to fall in the classroom cascaded down her pale cheeks. “And then she was screaming! I didn’t do anything, I swear.”

“Do you understand how lucky we are to be here?” Kira tightened her grip, “They could cast us out at any time, could kill us even. Do you understand? You have to control these outbursts!”

“But I didn’t do anything this time. I wasn’t even near her.”

Kira knew that didn’t change anything. And maybe it would convince Youko and James, but Kira knew better. Kira knew exactly what Ophelia was capable of- though she admitted in her head, that this was the first time anything physical had happened. And where could she have thought up razor blades? Had she ever even seen that before? She loosened her grip on Ophelia, who was now sobbing through broken white eyes looking at her sister as if she had inflicted the initial bruise on her hand. Kira snatched her own hands away from her sister, looking at them as if they weren’t hers. Then at her sister’s arms, which had an indent of her fingers forming on her skin. She felt disgusted with herself at that moment, that she could do something so vile to such a tiny being. A being that relied on her for safety. 

Kira closed her eyes, taking a sharp breath, “I...I’m sorry, Lia. I just...need you to keep thinking happy thoughts okay?” She opened her eyes to look at her sister, softer this time. But Ophelia’s pout and sad eyes told her everything. She felt the betrayal. “Smile, please, even if it hurts? People will trust you more if you smile.”

Ophelia buried her head in her knees and wrapped her arms around her legs, crying softly. Kira felt as small as her sister. “I’ll go...help James find you some candy…”

Kira took her leave, feeling worse than she had ever felt in her young life; and unsure how she would progress. Candy would have to wait, she had to see Sem and make sure the woman wouldn’t have the privilege of words for a while, but keep her sane enough that the old bat would be indebted to her. 

And it was only in that moment that Kira ever felt grateful to have known Ophelia’s birth mother. 

Once the wolf demon vacated the room, the younger sibling slowly brought her eyes to look at the empty doorway, eyes dry as a desert, white as snow with some blue tint making up a circle. She tightened her jaw shut hard enough that she thought her teeth might shatter. Her breathing frantic like a cornered animal. She was tired of being told to stifle her anger. Why was everyone else allowed to aggress except her? Why must she construct a mask to hide all her true feelings? The plague of womankind. Must be demure. Must smile when it hurts. Do not let a flash of pain in those eyes, less you want men to defile you for your weakness. And do not retaliate when an injustice befalls you, less you want to be ostracized. Smile through your emptiness. Ophelia dug her nails into her skin and grazed them across her arms till specks of blood appeared. And still she couldn’t feel it. 

Hiei walked across the door, stopped upon seeing the girl staring into the vacant space and leaned his body against the frame with a smirk upon his usually stone face. “That was a rotten thing you did to Sem.”

Ophelia moved only her eyes to his form. “Sem is a rotten woman.”

Kira stood outside with the cool night air caressing her hair. This time, she clutched a goblet of good wine that James had poured the two of them after their visit with Sem. The old woman’s mouth hung by a few stubborn nerves, and her tongue completely mangled in her mouth. She groaned and sputtered thick blood everytime Kira attempted to approach her- leaving James the only one qualified to touch her and with Kira’s supervision, they attempted to repair the damage. 

Kira couldn’t stand the sight of Sem; the image rattled her conscience. However, she blamed the woman for her own injury. Lamenting on how her vicious actions towards her sister caused this outcome, whether or not Ophelia acknowledged it or not. But Kira also understood the importance of keeping her and her sister safe- even if it meant working hours through blood and gore to put a terrible person back together. 

She hoped her good deed would go unpunished. 

Bare feet entering her room rocked her from her reverie, and she turned in time to see Youko walk through her room and into the darkness of night to join her. 

“Sem seems to have calmed down,” he began, “She can’t talk, but I don’t hear anybody complaining.”

Kira stifled a laugh, “That’s not very nice of you, Lord Youko.”

He stood close enough to the wolf yokai, his skin tickled her arm and allowed a small smile to grace his usually stone face. “No need to feign concern with me, Ms. Kira, I won’t tell the commoners.” His chuckle, if she could even call it that, sounded like tiny rocks in his throat.

“Any leads on what caused razor blades to materialize in her mouth?” Kira wrapped each word in crushing sarcasm. 

“You tell me?” Youko retorted. He felt her energy rise, her smile deflating. Shifting gears, he continues. “Hiei tells me Sem picks on your sister and she hasn’t exactly kept her opinions of her distaste for Lia a secret. Perhaps this is...just another attempt to cause friction between your sister and the rest of the children? At least,” he paused, resting his golden eyes on her, “That’s what Hiei thinks.”

“What do you think?” She responded without moving.

“I trust Hiei.” 

Kira tried to hide the wave of relief that cascaded over her. She felt like she was drowning in anticipation of his retaliation. And she made a mental note to thank Hiei somehow. For everything. For being the only one to ever defend her sister, to take her under his capable wing and help her- not even Kira could swallow that responsibility. 

“He’s quite fond of her,” Kira said, allowing a genuine smile to light her face- and Youko’s lips quivered to match her delight, but he resisted. 

“I suppose,” he responded. 

“A little crush maybe?” She winked at him. 

Youko had graced Kira with his existence to extract information on the nature of the tiny being currently sitting in silence in her dark room. But illuminated by the yellow moon overhead, he found himself entranced by the softness in Kira’s face, the way her eyes twinkled when she teased him. He mulled over how she could both keep her guard up like a stone wall but welcoming with such openness it was like whiplash every time they met. And he struggled with  granting himself the privilege of basking in her warmth. His coldness, his protection, for him and his village are the only things keeping them safe. 

“Perhaps,” he finally loosened his lips into a smile, “Or potential victim. Can’t always tell with him.”

A real laugh escaped her lips and he felt his stomach twist in a fashion he never experienced in the three hundred years of walking the forests of Demon World. Her voice echoed through the quiet night, carried away by the same wind that tugged at his skin. He felt completely taken over; almost suffocated. And when she looked directly into his eyes, an action never taken by another demon- except James, and that was always with an air of contempt- he felt every carefully sewed part of his demeanor unravel. He knew Kira could sense the way his breathing relaxed while his heart sped up as if trying to escape. But he didn’t. 

 There was a question still begging against his lips. Right on the tip of his tongue like a hammer threatening to crack the glass of their budding alliance- or something more. He never felt the pressure of choosing between his own self-preservation and falling for a woman- a wolf no less. But on those nights where he walked around the house, and captured her eyes as she stood on the balcony, shining like two small stars, he knew her presence would be missed and vowed to never be the cause of her disappearance. 

So the question of why her pack now rested in the dirt, their charred bodies now becoming one with the earth, failed to be granted a voice. He relented that for once, he would choose his own happiness in the company of another over bleak loneliness he was accustomed to; and felt it was well deserved. Especially that night, when he forwent accusations and instead grabbed her small hand, tangled their fingers together- and when she didn’t pull away in disgust, he instead asked the question if she would join him for another glass of wine in the basement. Where they instead spent the night exchanging parts of themselves they never knew existed. 

And when the years passed, and Youko was no longer the silver fox-

 and he spent his nights under that same crushing loneliness he lived for centuries before-

 he wondered if that had been his biggest miscalculation. 

Chapter Text

The dirt that stained Kira’s silver dress served as a testament to her dedication to the survival of the village. Her calloused fingers often bleeding and broken by the end of the day, though she never complained. Under the moonlight, Youko would bandage her hands with a special combination of his own plants and demon energy, as gentle as if handling a fragile piece of treasure he’s looted. But Youko was aware that Kira was anything but fragile. And she was not an item he owned- she was his partner. His equal. They spent hours discussing plans for the future of the village. Her input he took at the highest regard, more so than some of his other advisors. 

She challenged him. Called him out when he was being selfish and cruel. The only being granted that privilege. 

And by the time the fourth winter passed, the village settled into a comfortable routine that had them prosperous even with the frigid cold that rushed through the territory like an unforgiving beast. Kira offered them a different kind of protection than her partner. While he guarded the borders from the outside threats, Kira gave them security of living without the fear of internal conflict. With enough food to keep everyone well fed, the in-fighting decreased. Everyone trusted and relied on their neighbor. No risk of disease decimating their numbers when Kira could cure almost anything that could affect a demon. 

But sometimes complacency is more dangerous than any human or disease. 

Adorning furs from an unsuspecting animal for warmth, Kira walked the village with her basket; her morning routine. The village slowly rose from their slumbers, with only a few of the other beings setting up their trades for the day. Kira’s breath hung in the air but she felt a warmth rush through her body. Today was special. Youko and the rest of the men would be returning from a raid. Once the last snow of winter melted into the ground, Youko had rounded up the men and left the village to replenish what was used during their forced hibernation. 

Kira joked that Youko needed a break from her. He didn’t argue the point; still finding it difficult to unhinge his clenched jaw and tell her how she really made him feel. 

In the garden, Kira knelt into the wet dirt. Harnessing Hiei’s pyrokinetic abilities proved fruitful, but it was finite and she would need him to charge the plant again- soon. Thankfully, she mused, he’ll be coming home with the rest sometime today if everything went according to plan. And with Kira helping plan the routes, they haven’t had any mishaps. 

She played in her dirt as the sun hung high. Some of the children joined her for lessons on manipulating their demon energy to grow plants. Interestingly, her sister had not joined her. This was not completely unusual, as usually Ophelia could be seen lurking in the shadows of the woods or drawing pictures in the house. Kira hadn’t seen the morose girl at all. Just as she was about to leave the garden to hunt down her sister, the smell of roses reached her nose- followed immediately by the burning stench of flame. 

Not again . She pinched the bridge of her nose. 

And a moment later, the warmth of Hiei charging past the garden pricked her flesh. He flew like a small flying shadow, and the only other hint of his existence was the door to the main house slamming behind him.  This has become a more frequent conclusion to these raids within the last year; and the tension that followed could be cut with Hiei’s own sword. 

The rest of the team emerged from the woods; their skins red from the brisk cold air relentless attacks. James, no longer forced to stay behind to mind the village, barked orders to the tired demons- where to place their provisions, as if this routine hadn’t been memorized for years. Meats in the basement where Issara- an ice spirit- created a refrigerator system. Wool, cotton, and other fabrics immediately to Letti. Wine to a separate cellar in the corner of the main house to be accessed by anyone needing a night of reprieve from responsibilities. Sometimes, Kira wondered if James enjoyed the sound of his own voice- or if he was merely an extension of Youko’s. A job he took too seriously. 

Youko trailed behind the men and made his way towards the garden, where Kira would be waiting. When they locked eyes, she already had her hands placed firmly on her hips. Her lips in a forced frown, though her brown eyes sparkled in contradiction. 

“What did you do now?” She asked sternly. 

“Hiei,” he began, snaking his arms through the openings of her arms and around her waist, “needs to understand his place in the hierarchy.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” She fought against the instinct to bring her arms around his neck to pull him as close as physically possible; until cold skin met cold skin. 

“What are you doing out here? It’s too cold,” he scolded, a blatant effort to change the subject. 

“I’m fine. This is not my first winter, lest you forget.”

“Hrm.” Youko drank her form with his golden eyes. Her brown eyes amused by his concern, lips curled into a small smile having given up their attempt at disappointment. The silver dress, made with the same fabric as his outfit, hugged her slim body. And the black fur over her shoulders in an effort to grant warmth gave her this air of authority. She looked fierce even with her olive skin tinged with red from the wind. Drifting down her body he rested on her currently flat stomach with lingering interest.

Kira pulled away much to his disappointment. “I think I’m done for the day. Maybe a bath is in order? After I dropped this off to Carmella- the boys have a cold and this can make a nice vegetable soup for them.”

She went to pick up the basket, heavy with produce, but Youko stopped her and grabbed the basket instead. Kira laughed gently, “What a gentleman!” Youko noted that she didn’t argue with his sudden burst of chivalry- very much unlike his Wolf partner. 

“You’ve done enough.” He grabbed her hand, running his thumb across her bleeding knuckles, “I think you deserve a break.”

Her sharp tongue silenced for once- she didn’t feel the need to argue with his concern for much longer. 

Ophelia sat in the center of the house, surrounded by paper and crayons that had become a staple in the village. Stolen years ago, then multiplied by some of the more crafty citizens, children were given these items for entertainment in an effort to distract them long enough that their parents wouldn’t have to bother with them for a few minutes. Most of the children were only entertained by these for short bursts- Ophelia, however, could spend hours hunched over her creations.

In silence, Sem would watch her drawing mechanically. Rocking back and forth in her chair, knitting little sweaters for the girl. Her jaw no longer locked, but her tongue a distant memory. Severed as the ties to her cruelty. One becomes humble when faced with dark magic. 

Ophelia stopped and picked up her picture, a crooked smile on her tiny face. She pranced to Sem who paused her rocking immediately. 

“For you, Sem-san,” Lia giggled unnaturally; her chapped lips stretched wide and repulsive. 

Sem forced her mouth to smile, gently taking the picture. Surrounded by different colored flowers, an image of Sem sat in the middle, wearing an outfit from her younger years that the child should have no knowledge about. Her hands in prayer. The sun was bright with another strange smile. Everyone smiles, Sem thinks, everyone smiles and everything will be okay. She nodded enthusiastically to Lia. Thank you, little one . She thought. 

“The flowers know everything,” Lia pointed out, “especially the pink ones. The pink ones that turned red once. Do you remember?” 

Sem nodded, squeezing the paper so tightly she thought her nails would rip through it- stop . She scolded herself.

“I’m going to draw another one,” Lia skipped back to her work, “I feel like mountains today.”

She grabbed the blue crayon and got to work, scribbling so loudly that it seemed like an attack on Sem's ears. Scraping against the wood of the floors. Scratching like a rat trying to escape its prison. Sem just rocked, slowly, the picture in her lap. She noticed her caricature had tears on her cheeks. She rocked faster. 

A burst of heat and coldness rushed through the room, followed by one of the doors sliding shut aggressively. Ophelia paused and slowly brought her head to look towards the front door reopening from not being closed properly. She turned to Sem. Must be Hiei. Maybe you should check on him?”  She thought and to her relief, Lia jumped up and ran to her friend’s room. Sem let out a breath of relief as tears gathered in her eyes. 

Ophelia opened Hiei’s door without knocking, finding the older boy sitting on his bed staring at a hole in the wall. His red eyes glowed with fury, narrowed and tense. She could see him trying to control his breathing to a more natural pace. His demon energy fluctuating- as if conflicted with his instinct to attack versing the logic of such a foolish action. 

“What happened?” Ophelia asked meekly.

“What always happens.” Hiei snapped. 

She cautiously entered the room, taking a seat next to him. “Kira says that Youko says mean things because he isn’t used to caring for others. He means well.”

“If you really believe that, you’re a bigger fool than your sister.”

Ophelia thought for a moment- Youko never really said anything to her so she couldn’t properly judge. Under his unyielding gaze, she did feel small. A sense of dread always coiled around her chest when in his presence, which she tried to make as infrequent as possible. Opting instead to spend her time in the company of Hiei or James. It used to be Kira, but now that Kira spent all her free time with the fox, she hardly went near her sister. A development, she sensed, Youko was pleased with. But she could hear the volatile words thrown in Hiei’s direction when the two fought. Youko’s reminders of Hiei’s young age and small stature made him vulnerable. That it was best he remembered he could never best the fox. Stay in his lane and keep his mouth shut. 

And with every word, the fire that burned within Hiei grew. And she could feel him about to burst. 

“I got you a gift,” he mumbled suddenly, and the shift in tone was jarring even to Lia. 

“Another tooth?” she joked, touching the necklace around her neck she wore religiously for the last four years. 

“No.” He shuffled through a bag he brought with him on raids- to place his personal loot. After a few seconds of suspense, he pulled out a leather bound book and handed it to Ophelia. 

Her eyes widened. How she begged for Youko and James to bring her more paper or books; an obsession that began two years ago when she stumbled upon some medical books in Kira’s room. She didn’t care for the medical language and characters, but felt there were more pages to be read in the world. The men ignored her request, but Hiei promised if he stumbled upon one in the wild he would bring it back if he had the room. Also reminding her that it wasn’t a priority and not to get her hopes up- even though he wouldn’t admit he looked every time he left. 

“I found it on a table in one of the human guards rooms. He was sleeping so I didn’t have to slit his throat.” 

She touched the cover of the book. Smooth leather caressed her finger tips, cold from being outside. The golden trimmed letters indented the book: Shakespeare's Tragedy. Hamlet.” And in the center, an imprinted image of a skull. 

“It’s beautiful,” she said, stunned by the craftsmanship, and slowly opened the pages which crackled as she turned them. 

“I recognized your name when I looked through it.” He laid on the bed, now staring at the boards that made up the ceiling, and listened to the sweet sound of paper moving through the air. “Maybe this is where your mother found it.”

Ophelia paused at one of the pages, squinting her eyes at the text: “ Larded with sweet flowers, which bewept to the grave did go, with true-love showers.” She recited, her small voice wrapping around the alien letters as if she memorized them in another life. Cool and calculated, it even surprised Hiei. 

“You can read that?” He sat up quickly. 

“Yes, can’t you?” She tilted her head as she looked at him and he felt judged under her gaze. 

“I can read ,” he retaliated, “but I've never seen those characters before. The dog told me it was called old English.” 

“Oh,” she shifted, closing the book gently so as not to disrupt the fragile paper. “Well, I guess… I can…”

He wanted to interrogate her further- ask her how she suddenly could read anything when she never demonstrated such a skill before. But she didn’t grant him the pleasure of wearing her down this time. She rose from her seat on the bed, the book tightly against her chest. She thanked her profusely for his gift and exited the room as quickly as she came. 

Hiei arched an eyebrow, but relented that one day she’ll reveal her secrets to him- even if today was not that day. 

Ophelia found solace under the shade of the carnivorous plants at the edge of the village. The plants that had once caused so much fear to quake in her small body, now swayed undisturbed by her presence. She leaned against a newer plant, one that had sprouted in the wake of the one she destroyed as a younger child. This one was distinctly different from the ones born from the fox’s power. It stood as tall as the trees which surrounded them, with purple velvet petals held up by a stem as black as oblivion. And along its length, tiny red spikes that glistened in the sun and gave the illusion of tiny droplets of blood raining from unseen wounds. 

No one knew when the flower appeared. It started as a small bud piercing the ground beneath the corpse of the fallen plant and grew to its enormous length seemingly overnight. Even so, no one questioned it, and the animal youkai known for their plant skills merely thought the other had planted a new beast to replace the one “Hiei” had destroyed. 

Ophelia preferred this plant to the others. Drawn to it like a spider looking for a foundation to spin its home. She often hid under the purple petals that stretched into a canopy everytime the girl appeared. Today, she rested against the bleeding onyx stem, with the book open on her lap as she traced her finger along the words attempting to understand the curvatures and deep black lines. And while her mouth effortlessly tasted every word, her mind could not make sense of the language which tapped against her mind like nails on brick. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine the scene unfolding in the hopes whatever magic welled within her would give her the answers. 

In her mind's eye, she could make out a man, crushed with guilt and haunted by the ghost of his anger and regrets, and a woman covered in flowers with pleading words dangling from her lips. And with every sharp word slung in her direction, another petal rotted away. Shriveled to brown and black. Fell from the stem that held it together and floated away–carried by the antagony in his tone. A deep sadness coiled around her stomach–and it felt both familiar and undiscovered. Something throbbing from the future with no threads to tether it to a memory. And when she opened her eyes, she saw shadows extend from non-existent beings. A man with fangs and his back turned to the woman, and she covered in dying buds of flowers with her hands clasped in prayers that would never be answered. And once Ophelia thought the words suddenly made sense, a large rock formed in her chest and crushed the images.

She frowned. That has been happening more, lately. 

But she didn’t have time to dwell too long. The rustle of approaching footsteps caught her attention and she snapped her eyes in time for James to appear.

“Ah, I see he did give it to you,” the dog chuckled and gestured to the book in her lap. Ophelia offered a well-placed giggle and blush, and darted her eyes back to the sienna pages. James took a seat next to her. “He told me he was going to use it for the fire tonight.”

“Do you know what it’s about?” She asked.

“I think… Hamlet…” He touched the words on his tongue as if he could taste the memory. And then smiled. “My old clan used to sneak into the human world to explore. The barrier where I’m from led to a place called England, I believe. Filthy place. But they put on what they called plays. This was one of them.”

“Can you understand the words?”

“Yes. This is actually my native tongue.” He plucked the book from her hands and scanned the black words, then dramatically cleared his throat.  “You should not have believed me, for virtue//cannot so inoculate our old stock but we shall//relish of it. I loved you not.”

Something shudders through Ophelia; like a lightning bolt slamming against her stomach. “That sounds mean…”

“It is.” James sighed, a sudden pinch forming in his nerves he tried to shake off.  “Hamlet is telling Ophelia he never loved her…”

“Does he mean it?”

“I’m…actually not sure.” He hands the book back. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen the play, but from what I recall, the ghost of his father haunted him, claiming he had been murdered. So Hamlet feigns madness in order to test the truth of the apparition. In his misguided quest, he believes Ophelia has betrayed him and thus, coldly casts her away. And in her grief she….well…I won’t spoil it.” A sad smile appears on his often jovial face; eyes crushed with a rejection he didn’t articulate, but Ophelia could just taste it–and it was salty. 

She dropped her eyes to the page; the words swirl around like a whirlpool of black and brown under her crushing gaze. “That’s…” The proper words turn to ash in her mouth and she swallows them back, for now. “He sounds like an asshole.”

James roared with a laughter that sounded heavy, and touched with a sprinkle of sadness. . “I think some might agree with that sentiment. But he is just a man…”  

“Are all men so foolish?”

“I fear…” 

“Hmph. I will never fall for a man like that,” she announced and shut the book with a loud thump . 

And James couldn't help but chuckle at her display. “I think you have a while before you have to think about such things. Come now. I bought some candy from the human world for you to try.” 

He crouched so the girl would hop on his back,  like she’s done since she was six, with the book still clutched in her hand. He did throw the plant one hesitant look before he left, as if trying to figure out when it came to be–but his mind hummed with distraction. James shrugged, and jogged back to the village…ignoring the way the purple velvet petals retracted into an uncomfortable black bulb which looked like an eye that watched the village carefully. 

Tension had weighed heavy during dinner in the absence of Hiei. Ophelia spent the meal pushing around the chunks of meat with a huff, as James shot wary glances at the wolf and fox–the two completely engrossed in their own conversation had iced out their dinner guests. This hadn’t been particularly uncommon of an occurrence. In fact, in the lengthening years, once Kira and Youko made their relationship honest under the Harvest Moon the year after arriving in the village, they seemed to distance themselves. Kira busied herself with managing the gardens and teaching healing classes to the younger demons. She tended to any of Youko’s wounds when he returned from minor raids–both the physical and emotional–and in turn was pampered by her fox lover. 

This left little time for Ophelia. And her absence was felt by the girl though any objection was met with a sigh and false assurances. And Ophelia would grit her teeth, and force a razor sharp smile–because smiling was the only language Kira wanted to hear from her. And it tugged at her skin, and the rejection curdled in her stomach. But Opehlia pushed through, and spent more time in silence with Hiei, or speaking to James–who enjoyed her morose frowns–or torturing Sem.

Ophelia, having enough of performing the role of little sister this time, excused herself from the table to deaf ears– wondering what’s the point of advanced canine hearing if no one would listen to her anyway–and snuck her left overs to Hiei. She knocked on the door softly. “Hiei?” She whispered, clutching the cooling bowl in her hands. Ophelia expected no answer, and intended on leaving it by the door and limping back to her room as if wounded by everyone’s indifference. 

But a quiet “ come in”  filtered through the door. She cautiously entered the room where Hiei sat on his bed staring at the open back screens that welcomed in the night air. 

“I brought you dinner.” She held up the bowl. “It’s elkeer stew.”

“It’s always elkeer stew,” he grumbled. 

“No…sometimes it’s bird stew.”

“Hn.” His shoulders dropped, but he never looked at her. 

She approached him, somehow sensing his defences were down, and placed his food on a table before joining him on his bed. She sat with her legs crossed and picked at her nails–ripping them down to the skin. 

“Stop that,” he scolded, still looking outside, “you’re going to hurt yourself.”

“Sorry…”

“Don’t apologize to me. Apologize to your nails.”

She thought the request was absolute nonsense—her nails didn’t have opinions or feelings to hurt–and she wanted to tell him, but he finally looked at her with his still narrow red eyes of perpetual anger, almost as if he heard her about to argue. She stitched her lips shut, and he returned his gaze back to the navy blue sky. The full moon illuminated the entire forest. Thick black trees still stood bare, giving the illusion of long skeleton arms reaching for the heavens. They danced in the frost-touched wind, their branches scraping against each other, creating a haunting tune. The same song they sang all four winters.

Everything had become too familiar to Ophelia–the routines, the smells, the cautious looks from those who knew too much. She could taste their apprehension when moving through the shadows of the village like a phantom dressed in black, and it planted a seed that coiled in the back of her head. 

“Hiei,” she whispered, “What’s it like out there beyond the forest?”

The boy waited a few beats, listening to the same whispering of the wind through the branches. For Hiei, he heard a voice calling out from across the fractured sky–a wailing he could just make out sometimes, if he really tried to listen.

“Nothing,” he lied. “Just more death.”

“Oh,” Her voice hitched–as if she tried to push forth a disappointed tone but it got stuck on those razors she planted on her lips. “You always come back with such interesting items…I figured there was…more out there.”

“Why are you interested?”

“I don’t know…” she pulled her legs up against her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “It’s lonely here. Especially when you leave.”

“Hn, because you don’t bother making other friends.”

“Well…neither do you?”

He went to argue and then stopped–she was absolutely correct. “Because they are all fools here.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“But they’re fools out there, too. You’re better off in the village…”

“And you?” 

Silence draped over them like a shadow. They listen to the wind barrell through the trees again–the song or the wailing depending on who’s listening–and consider the implication around that question.

Hiei’s red eyes lingered on the tips of the branches that touch the sky. They tasted freedom as they scraped the sky. “I don’t know anymore.”

Ophelia dropped her gaze to the fog that enveloped the familiar paths beyond the balcony of her home, yet still she could make out the dents in the dirt and the outlines of flames from other shelters. “What if I don’t want to be here anymore either?”

And neither of them had an answer for that question. Hiei battled with indifference and concern–a fight he would endure for the rest of his life–while Ophelia wrestled with the fear that hung onto every syllable. So they both stitched their lips shut for the night; and merely existed in the disturbed darkness…together. 

Meanwhile, on the opposite end of the home, Kira sat outside on the balcony overlooking the entire village, her eyes drawn to the moon. And as she watched the clouds glide across the icy light, she wrapped a white ribbon around a tuft of jet black hair while she murmured a series of poetic words in a tongue she never mastered. She tried to focus on the inflections, but her mind wandered as a familiar smell tickled the back of her nose and the ribbon collapsed in her hand for the second time. 

But before she could start over, the heavy footsteps of her lover gravitated towards her place on the balcony, and she quickly tucked the ribbon and hair in her pocket before Youko could ask well meaning questions. 

“Still out here?” He inquired.

“You know I enjoy my nightly reflections,” She sassed back with a smile that melted any tension that may have remained from dinner. 

“Hrm, I don’t want to interrupt, of course, I just…”

“Worry?” She chuckled.

“If that’s the word.” He darts his golden eyes to the floor as a blush warms his cheeks. 

Kira looked back at the moon hanging in the sky. “Youko…”

“Yes?”

“Did you…sense any humans on your way home?”

Youko sighed–every year, Kira asked the question, and every year, the answer had been the same. And for some reason, his firm answer only appeased her until the next time she asked. “No. None of us sense the presence of humans…”

“Not even right now? Can you smell them?”

He arched a silver brow and looked up into the sky, allowing the wind to carry the scent of the world around him. He tasted the lingering frost in the back of his throat, the metallic scent of blood from a fallen being, and the cold musk radiating from the lake. “I don’t…”

“I…” she began to doubt herself, “I thought I smelled ... .the stench of a human but…it feels so far away…like a memory.”

“Maybe it is,” he tried to assure her, weakly, he would later admit. “Humans haven’t been in this area since…” He trailed off realizing the avalanche of memories he almost stumbled upon. 

But she finished his thought. “Since around the time my sister and I arrived. Why do you think that is?”

“We’re well hidden here. And the plants are a deterrent…”

“It’s just so strange.” She finally relieves the moon of her gaze and drops her eyes to her hands resting on her lap. “Sometimes I get a whiff of their stench. And I think…today they will find us…but it floats away as quickly. And it used to be a relief, but sometimes…sometimes I wonder why we haven’t seen a human in years…not even another demon.”

“We see plenty during the raids,” Youko couldn’t understand her concern. “It’s a good thing, Kira. We’re safe here…”

“Safe…” She touched her tongue on the word and warmth spread within her stomach; which fluttered in response. Kira nodded and looked at Youko. He stood over her with his features twitching into one of concern. An alien look, she thought, for someone usually so secure in his resolve. She took a breath as if she held all her fear in her lungs, and expelled it into the wind as a gift to the moon. “You’re right. I’m just…thinking too much again….”

“Better to think too much than too little.” He extended his hand to her. “Come now. It’s late…and I would very much enjoy your company in the warmth of our bed.”

She blushed and took his hand. “Oh, you are such a charmer, my lord.”

“Only for you, my lady.” 

The following afternoon-

And the air hung with an unnatural warmth for the time of year. A cool wind still danced through the village as a reminder of winter passed, but the heat challenged its stay. Dark clouds rumbled in the distance, with crackles of lighting flashing within, but the sounds of thunder were too far from the village to cause concern. The village bustled with activity- nearly every member walking through the open area, discussing ideas for a feast later on in the night if the storm held out. The sounds of children laughing near the lake echoed throughout, water splashing as they tried to relieve themselves from the sudden humidity. The weather was always erratic in this part of the demon world once kissed with the prospect of spring. Kira spent extra time in the garden, taking advantage of the first nice day of the year. Ophelia hid in the woods, with her book, reading the words that echoed in her brain with proper articulation yet couldn’t decipher their true meaning. Empty words, she thought, waiting for the emotion of experience to breathe new life into them. 

Peace settled comfortably.

Until it didn’t. 

The sound of raised voices from within the home drowned out the laughter. A crash from projected objects caught the attention of several demons, who turned in time to see Hiei exit the house, his sword on his back that was now the same size as him, walking with a sense of purpose towards the Northern part of the woods. Villagers then held their collective breaths when on his heels, Youko spat venom towards his ally. 

“I will no longer tolerate your insubordinate behavior,” Youko shouted at him with a sense of calm rage. “Get back in the house and clean up the mess you’ve made!”

“And I will no longer tolerate being treated like a child!” Hiei snapped back without pausing in his stride. 

“You are a child!” 

Youko caught up to the fire demon, but when he placed a gruff hand on his shoulder Hiei turned with a flash- drawing his sword and pointing the end at the throat of the silver fox. 

Youko paused. His golden eyes bearing down on Hiei, who didn’t flinch at the death stare. “You draw your sword at me, Hiei? I’ve killed people for less.”

Hiei would later admit, to one person, that he thought for a moment his life would end at eleven. But gritted his teeth- his pride on the line. “I didn’t decapitate my former captors to take orders from you. This is the end of our truce. I’m leaving.”

Youko believed with every fiber of his being that the safety of this village, which grew in the years since the two displaced demons entered, relied solely on the fact that no one but the capable men could leave. No one seemed to know, or bother, with the small populace of demons in the center of the neutral territory. And that couldn’t change. Humans, or volatile demons, could stumble on this place, see it lush with prosperity, and seek to destroy everything he worked for. Everything he has sacrificed up to this moment would be for nothing.

Other being’s betrayal always lived in the back of his mind. How much torture could someone take before they vomitted the location of his village? How many enemies has he made in three hundred years who would relish in the moment they burned everything Youko cared for to the ground?

And maybe this mistrust became a self-fulfilling prophecy. 

“You walk beyond those plants, Hiei,” Youko seethed; his voice like the distant thunder clap gaining power, “and the next time we meet, I’ll relieve you of the burden of your vocal cords.” 

“Hn,” Hiei retracted his sword- and for a moment Youko wanted to breathe an uncharacteristic sigh of relief. However, “I’d like to see you try, old man.”

And Hiei vanished into the woods.

All the air in Ophelia’s lungs seemed to expel at once.  She placed her book on the ground and touched her heart- something was wrong. At that moment she recognized a black mass flying past her eyes. A voice in her head told her to follow him, and she jumped to her feet and tried to catch up with the shadow. Luck in her favor, Hiei decided to second guess himself- one of the few times he ever felt unsure of his next steps- and stood in front of the barrier of plants that swayed back and forth in the wind. 

The thought of turning back flashed across his face. Doubt. But he shook it from his head as quickly as it came- he threatened Youko. That would not go unpunished. And creeping hesitation crawled up his stomach. Could he kill Youko? Would Youko even give him a chance?

“Where are you going?” The small, familiar voice, murmured with such caution, that Hiei swore for a moment he would change his mind. But he forced his red eyes to focus on the dimly lit path of freedom before him. 

“I’m leaving.” His voice prickled with ice, “I will no longer take orders from a drunk fox high on his own ego. I have better things to do.”

Ophelia knitted her eyebrows together, the weight in her chest felt too heavy to carry as she tried to rationalize the words that dripped from her only friend’s mouth. She tried to call upon the voice inside her head to feed her reassurances, but it was oddly silent. “But,” she said finally, swallowing the lump that grew in her throat, “What about me?”

Hiei let out a strangled sigh which died before it reached her ears. He turned to her. She stood before him almost as small as the day they met, chewing on her bottom lip while she picked nervously at her fingernails. Upon her body, a black dress she insisted be made, and he knew she chose it to demonstrate her loyalty to the fire spirit. She wore this visage of innocence and admiration like a weapon she utilized when she needed someone to comply with her pleads. He could admire her manipulation- He granted the question a second heartbeat to roll through his head: what about me? Like a pathetic plea.

Hiei turned away.  The weight in her chest felt like a balloon ready to explode as his coldness washed over her like a wave crashing upon a beach- it slammed and stole a bit of her every time. 

“What about you?” 

It cut her like a knife.  And as stunned as Ophelia was by how effortlessly he vanished from her sight, she- as if compelled by another mind- she chased him into the deep black forest that swallowed her whole. 

It was at that moment, Kira shot up from her garden and stared into the forest. A coldness rushed through her like a sword. Too engrossed with her gardening, she missed the confrontation; but the whispers had drifted towards her place in the village. And when she saw Skull, brandishing his own weapon, heading into the woods she realized that the silent contempt between the fox and the fire demon had finally overflowed. 

And all she could think: where did Ophelia go?

Ophelia charged into the woods and immediately lost her bearings, having never left the sanctuary since they buried her former pack. She didn’t even have a sense of which direction her friend disappeared to. She realized a deep emptiness had filled her. No longer could she sense the flame that radiated off his ki. Gone without a trace. As if he never existed. 

By the time she stopped and realized her mistake,  movement from beyond the trees captured her attention.  The smell of sweat and blood reached her nose. She swung around. The first human lurking just beyond a cluster of red trees emerged. His clothes, while covered in dried blood, showed no additional signs of a fight- the blood wasn’t his. 

“Well, hello there.” He smiled, revealing two rows of putrid yellow teeth. His nose, large and pointed, gave him the look of the rat that Hiei once sent after her. Slowly, he approached. 

Ophelia backed up several paces, but paused when she heard footsteps behind her. 

“Oh? And who's our new friend?” Another man appeared behind her, with a third coming from her right. Surrounded. The three men, all the same built, all with dried blood on their pressed uniforms. Blue uniforms. Uniforms she remembered from a distant nightmare. All three with slicked hair, but rotting teeth that they flashed with their cheshire smiles as they circled her. 

“Where did you come from, little girl?” They chanted. Her head swirled; the trees, and their dead branches, blurred around her. Suddenly, the humidity felt suffocating. And the storm that crashed in the distance felt right over her. 

She pinched her lips shut and tried to steady her head. 

Other voices. Not belonging to the men filled her brain. In a language she didn’t understand. Bile rose from her stomach.

“What’s her problem?”

“Why is she just staring at us like that?”

“Stop standing there like a buncha morons, and grab her already!”

Cold boney hands around her arm. Ophelia’s eyes flew open- when did they close- and she shrieked an ear piercing cry that enveloped the entire forest. Then her nails, sharpened like claws, connected with pale skin and she scratched the offending limb with all her strength. 

“Fuck!” The man fell back, grabbing his arm as blood spurted onto his clothes- his blood. “Stupid bitch!”

Ophelia's eyes glowed, breathing heavily, as they locked on to the man writhing in pain on the floor. He pulled his hand back, three parallel scratches down to his bone, as the skin around him started to change...pale giving way to sickly purple. His veins pulsed through his skin; blue road maps of his circulatory system. Pus immediately oozed through the wounds. Anger gave way to fear, as the nerves in his arm began to rot. 

“What the-” One of his comrades started, but was cut off by the third.

“Fuck this pain in the ass. Not worth it.” He charged his ki. Blue light surrounded the palm of his hand, crackling like its own lightning, and vibrated through the atmosphere. 

Ophelia remembered the sound his attack made as it ripped through the air. Like a crack of thunder. It haunted her dreams for decades after. She remembered how bright the light looked; like a shooting star that tore through the night sky. She even remembered closing her eyes to prepare for the pain of skin tearing across her flesh as it disintegrated under the force of the energy attack. 

Sometimes when she wakes up in the middle of the night, covered by sweat, she feels that pain. But that day...she felt nothing. 

Instead, Ophelia heard an energy blast tear through skin and bone. And the sound of blood gathering in a throat as it sputters out of a mouth. And even though a distant voice in the back of her head begged her to keep her eyes closed, as it once did four years ago, Ophelia found herself opening those bright, icy blue eyes. 

The blood on Kira’s silver dress was a testament to the sacrifices she would make to protect the people she loved. And even as blood poured from her mouth and mixed with the blood which pooled on her chest, all she thought about until her mind went black was her sister. And Ophelia watched in horror as her sister who stood like a picturesque statue above her fell to her knees onto the dirt.  Her raven hair moved like waves in the lake. Her skin turned cold before the rest of her body collapsed to the ground. 

Brown eyes frozen open, resting on Ophelia’s trembling form. 

“K-Kira.” Ophelia couldn’t tell anyone if she said that name out loud. And even as she looked at her sister’s body, she didn’t believe that would be the last time she called for her. 

“Dammit!” The man cursed, “A wolf demon!? I thought they were extinct in these parts.”

“Who cares?” The other man scolded. 

“Bitches are big money these days. Especially wolf bitches.”

A strangled cough from the man next to Ophelia. “Guys, I don’t feel so good.” He clutched his arm. “Sometimes not right.”

“Stop being a pussy and grab the girl. She’s probably worth-”

Silence. Ophelia felt muffled, as if she was drowning underwater- her eyes never leaving her sister- but she heard their screams like an echo from miles away. 

The man who charged his ki, who had been mid-order, had a plant-fashioned sword stabbed through his mouth. His comrade shouted, but stumbled and was immediately ensnared by a carnivorous plant, which constricted and coiled around his body, shattering his bones into dust before using its jagged teeth to rip apart his face, as he screamed for the god he worshiped to show him mercy.

But God abandoned them. 

And in his place, the silver fox coated in the blood of the slain. He retracted the sword from the monster’s mouth. The third man, scrambled to his feet and retreated into the forest- and Youko might have sent another plant to extinguish his life...but

A humid wind with the smell of rain rushed through the pair as they stood on either side of Kira’s resting body. Youko’s eyes were crushed. Hot tears threatened to fall without his knowledge, until his face contorted into a vision of rage that Ophelia had never in her ten years seen in a man. 

“What have you done?” His voice was drenched in venom. 

She didn’t respond. Instead she crawled to her sister’s body, her mind like a whirlpool again, as she tried to rationalize why she could no longer feel her sister’s soul within her body. Why those bright brown eyes that looked like two perfect marbles were completely dark? Why didn’t they blink? She reached to touch Kira, but in a snap, Youko was in her face, his teeth bare and eyes filled with bloodlust. She fell back and crawled away, fear seizing her throat.  

“Don’t touch her!” He growled. Youko pulled his narrowed gold eyes away from the child, and dared to look at Kira. Gently, he gathered her broken body into his arms; frozen to the touch. He felt her life leave her before she fell to the ground. He felt the blast rip through the body and fry her nerves, until it exploded in her heart.

No amount of healing powers could bring her back. 

He pulled her close to his chest, fighting against his desire to tear the thing trembling front of him. “You stupid, child.” He whispered, “I told you both never to leave the perimeter did I not? Look what you did. Look what you did to your sister.” Hot tears filled with hatred fell upon Kira’s skin. 

“I’m-I’m sorry,” Ophelia stuttered. Fear wrapped around her as thick as the humidity. 

A terrifying laugh escaped his lips. “Oh? You’re sorry?” He brought his eyes to meet hers- and any kind of loyalty he had for the girl had died with her sister. “I’ll make sure you're sorry.”

He lunged for the girl who sat there with a bleak sense of acceptance of her fate, and this time left her eyes open to see the vines wrap around his arm to take the form of a sword- and she would have welcomed the release of the burden of guilt, had another form not slammed onto the ground in front of her like a bolt of lightning. A strong hand gripped Youko’s arm and pinned it to the ground. And Youko stared into the wild green eyes of his most loyal ally. 

“What are you doing!” James seethed, a low growl rumbling in his throat as a warning to the fox. 

“Et tu, Jameson?” Youko sneered. 

“She’s a child!”

“Her stupidity caused the death of my…” he bit his tongue and clenched his fist in the dirt. James bore his teeth, snarling through them- and Youko tried to remember a time his friend ever turned on him. And how easy it was for him now. 

“Youko,” James tried to ease the tension in his voice, “What would Kira want you to do?”

The fox shook his head and a bitter laugh rattled through his throat. “The hell you know about what she would have wanted?” He pulled back; the vines on his arm retreated. They stared at each other for several quiet moments. James never relented, prepared for Youko to attack his throat to get to the girl, who cowarded behind him gripping his silver attire for protection. He sensed the terrible, desperate, rage that soured Youko’s heart. 

Youko glared at the dog, “I respect you, James, you’ve been loyal to me. So, I will allow the benefit of a choice. You may return to the village- without the child. Or,” he threw one more look at the girl behind James. “If you attempt to return with her, I’ll kill you both myself.”

Youko rose from the ground, tearing himself away from the pair, despite the urge to destroy them pulsing through his veins. He stood over Kira’s body for nineteen strained heartbeats and cursed himself for all the words he never said. And mourned all the times he felt his heart flutter when she would run a finger along his jawline; that he would never touch her skin again. He would never smell the natural floral perfume that emitted from her body from hours surrounded by bright flowers. He waited for her to lash at him with that tongue of hers; lecturing him for his mistakes, with a coy smile on her lips. But she was robbed of her voice. 

The silent wind suddenly cooled. And the storm in the distance rumbled further away.. And Youko felt himself begin to crumble under the weight of his own guilt as he thought about how it only took a few words said in anger, to a boy who hadn’t deserved his rage, to change everything. He picked up her body- noting how light she felt without her soul- and returned to the village. 

James exhaled loudly, his lungs strained as if he was holding his breath, and stood up. Whimpers from behind, he turned to Ophelia who curled into a ball on the ground as her body shook with tears. He hushed her gently as he picked up her tiny form. Ophelia sobbed into her friend's shoulder, feeling the first sensation of safety rushed through her. He whispered into her ear lies he also told himself- everything is okay . 

The sun slowly moved towards the west- darkness would soon take over the forest and the beasts that lurked in the shadows would appear. And as he stared into the direction of the village, for the first time in a long time, James felt unsure of what to do next.

Chapter Text

The red sun scorched the darkening sky as it took its leave behind the mountains. The last bit of light gripped the black bark of trees that populated the forest, casting deformed shadows across the earth below, and reminded James time was running out. He had spent the rest of the afternoon walking the perimeter of carnivorous plants, with Ophelia attached to his back, as he weighed his limited options. Youko’s threat, sharp and convincing, echoed through his head. He wouldn’t put it past the fox to feed his head to one of his precious plants to make an example out of James–this is what happens when you oppose the leader of the pack. However, words carved in anger didn’t seem to hold as much truth with Youko as the ones carefully chosen with composure. 

However, of course, the burden on his back complicated matters more. James knew Youko sent Skull after Hiei–a mistake which would certainly send the demon to an early grave–so he was not above murdering children. And as if she heard him, Ophelia tightened her grip on the dog demon, but said nothing. The only sounds emitting from the child were soft sobs that wrecked through her small body. Each one heavy and filled with unrelenting grief that even James felt bogged down by her sadness. And each step started to feel like he was sinking into a swamp. 

Between the weight in his strides and the sun’s protective rays dissipating in the horizon, he had to make a choice: leave Ophelia behind and take his chance with Youko, or embark on an unknown journey through the woods of Makai. 

James came upon the purple plant that towers over the rest of Youko’s creations. He had passed it a few times in his fools walk, and every time it seemed to bristle with anticipation; as if waiting for him to finally approach it. He didn’t sense danger when he walked past the creation; just uncertainty. Not danger, not curiosity, but a feeling in the pit of his stomach which gave him pause. However, now with darkness looming, the bulb of the flower bloomed as he made another lap, and the petals seemed to reach over to them…not threatening. More like, calling for him. 

He stopped and stood before it, far enough where it couldn’t snatch him should it possess such an ability, and was cautiously optimistic when it and the rest of the swaying plants didn’t immediately try to attack. He set Ophelia on the ground, despite her wordless whines, far away from the dangerous foliage. His logic that she could run should they turn on James.

Though how long she would be safe- he crushed the thought.

He advanced towards them, slow and steady. They danced calmly as the wind pushed along their stems. The purple flower, he noticed, seemed to have dulled since he last laid eyes on it the previous day. And the red spikes which decorated her stem pulsed, leaking liquid like tears down her trunk. It was almost as if the plant had been in mourning. 

“James,” Ophelia’s voice barely cracked above a whisper.  He turned. She sat on a perfectly placed rock, her blue eyes wilted and wet from tears. She pointed at something advancing in the distance. James snapped his head in the direction she was pointing at and braced himself for a battle. Steading his breath, though the sweat beading along his forehead gave his fear away. 

In the distance, Sazu made his way towards the two. His hands up in automatic surrender..  “Steady, buddy,” he said softly, “I ain’t here to hurt ya.”

“Oh really?” James sneered, “Do you expect me to believe Youko didn’t send you to do his dirty work?”

Sazu sighed, dropping his head and nodding towards Ophelia. “I don’t kill kids.”

But James didn’t remove his narrowed green eyes at the phoenix demon. Sazu’s scent revealed part of his intentions- he wasn’t sweating from the adrenaline from pre-kill. It was the pungent stench of fear…

Of the unknown?

“Then why are you here?” James questioned. 

“Come on, James,” Sazu sounded defeated- worn out. “Youko doesn’t mean what he says.”

“He sent Skull to go after Hiei, did he not? To kill him?”

“Yeah but…”

“And you to kill me? His actions have spoken. The message is clear.”

Sazu paused and weighed the dog demon’s words. “If you really believe that, then why have you returned?”

James clenched his jaw and thought for a moment. Hope. 

But he knew the hold Youko had over them. The command in his voice. The beauty in his violence. He could convince the most honorable being to murder children. And now with his heart hallowed by grief, could he have fallen so far?

“I talked with the rest of the team, James. You’re all we have left.”

James softened his gaze, but bit his tongue until Sazu can finish. 

“We all lost Kira, and Youko….” Sazu fought for the words that struggled against his throat, “you don’t come back from losing your mate quickly...or at all. We need a leader. There’s families here, man.” He paused, straightening his posture to look at the dog demon with conviction. “We have your back. I promise.”

During their raids, Sazu never gave James a reason to doubt his loyalty. He proved himself one of the more level headed of the thieves in the clan; a second-guesser, perhaps from being one of the last of his kind, survival was his top priority. So the fact that Youko would send him, of all his associates, was an interesting move. One that called into question how dedicated the fox was to his rage. 

“You know him better than any of us,” Sazu continued, “You know if he means his words or not.”

James didn’t have a chance to respond.

 A strangled, guttural, moan echoed from the woods. He swung around, Ophelia already on her feet and running towards him, as the being stumbled into view. 

The third human, who abandoned his associates to the fox’s anger, staggered towards the trio; the wound on his arm leaked black blood, covering spongy gray skin. He keeled over and projectile vomited a thick tar-like substance onto the ground. He coughed and hacked thick pieces of...himself...onto the rock that previously housed Ophelia- the girl now tightly clinging to James’ pants. 

“Holy fuck, what’s up with his eyes!” Sazu stuttered through his words. 

The eyes, bone white and ringed with red, and hollowed around like the skin had caved into his skull. They moved unnaturally, locking onto the trio. The human stood up straight in slow motion, as if his bones were attempting to shift into place. He opened his mouth, stained with black liquid.

 “I feel better now,” he spoke like an echo, “I see...everything. The end. How beautiful?” He took an uneasy step, the sound of breaking bones splintered through the air.  “They’re coming. The awakening has begun…And soon we will all be free.”

“He’s nuts,” Sazu whispered. 

“Shut up!”

The smile dropped. Even with his blank stare, James felt a vicious, bloodthirsty gaze upon them. Then, with a voice that sounded crushed from dirt and death, the being seethed: “Finis coepit. Sexaginta sigilla frangentur. Nobiscum iunge.”

Silence spread across the scene. 

James realized the birds stopped wailing. The threes moved in the sudden violent wind, but offered no sound. A piercing hum from the far reaches of Demon World rushed through the forest and shattered the tense quiet like glass. And the human...cracked its neck and rushed James with a guttural roar. 

He barely had time to react, using his brief moments to push Ophelia away before the thing was in his face, chomping its teeth with animalistic veracity. James managed to block its attack, the  grey flesh molded like clay around his grip and he felt the muscles give way. The bones splintered and broke out from underneath the skin with an eruption of black blood. But still it howled–not in pain, but with the veracity of a predator-and never halted its assault.

Then, its head flew black. Brain matter the color of ash on the back of its skull. And it crumbled to the floor. 

James blinked several times, frozen. His brain tried to rationalize the event that just unfolded. He turned and saw Sazu lowering his arm- the hot energy from his hand cooling. His breathing matched James and both had the same panicked eyes. Fear clutched their chests like a constrictor. And logic would dictate they shouldn’t fear a human on the verge of death.

But instinct told them otherwise. 

They took a few more seconds to gather their bearings. Ophelia’s strangled sobs snapped James back to reality. He picked her up from the ground and held her against his chest. He looked at Sazu one last time, the other demon still focused on the monster he just put down. 

“Promise me, Sazu,” James said, his breath trying to catch up, “Nothing will happen when we walk through that village.” The dog demon had no other choice now. He once heard fairy tales of humans being turned into bloodthirsty monsters; their desire for tearing apart a living being the only motive for their actions. And while he knew, and Sazu knew, that couldn’t be possible , no other explanation existed. And he wasn’t about to stay and find out. 

Sazu nodded, “Yeah, I promise, man.”

James took off for the village, stopping instantly in front of the giant carnivorous plant, the security system, programmed to attack at the slightest disturbance from an unknown energy. 

“What?” Sazu questioned, pausing next to the green-eyed demon. 

“T-the plants,” James stammered over his words, “Why didn’t they attack that thing?”

The potent sadness, which overcame the village, was the first thing James noticed. The families huddled together in front of the main house- where he could smell the fox and the putrid stench of death- their soft cries overwhelmed him. He walked through them, carrying the child in his arms, and they moved slowly as if in a trance to clear a path towards the two front doors. He heard some questions float above the crowd: “What happened?” “Should we ask him?” “Are we safe anymore?” “What are we going to do?” He recognized that once he walked through those doors, those questions would become his burden.

But first…

Inside the house, Sem stood by the door with her eyes glued to the floor and swelled with uncharacteristic tears. Hilde crumbled to the floor, Meeka attempting to comfort her with a cold touch and face contorted in disgust for the other demon’s display of uncontrollable sobs. Neither woman acknowledged James and Ophelia’s return, Sem only bringing her eyes up for a second to stare at the young girl who offered nothing in return. Akul and Amar approached from the room furthest in the back of the house- the room the fox and wolf demon shared. Their faces were flushed with both fear and anguish. 

“James,” Amar started, “Youko…”

“Did he tell you to kill me?”

Hilde cried louder, earning a stern shut it from Meeka. Amar merely shook his head, “Go talk to him. He needs sympathy right now-”

“Where’s Skull?” James snapped his eyes to Akul, the more timid of the two brothers. He shuffled his feet and looked down. 

“We...haven’t been able to locate him after he went after Hiei.”

“Find him, tell him his mission is over and to return immediately,” James stern voice seemed unfamiliar to him, like it existed for another demon, “No one is to leave the perimeter of the village. Humans are in the area.”

The brothers exchanged unsure looks, their yellow lizard eyes fluctuating as if communicating in their own telepathic language. The action caused another unknown rage to erupt from James: “Did I stutter? Go now!”

The two men stood at attention, eyes frightened, “S-Sir!” And left the house. 

James gritted his teeth- he never asked for this responsibility and immediately cursed his own uncertainty. Youko didn’t either. He felt Ophelia squeeze him tighter, burying her face into his shoulder as she let out another sniffle. 

“Sazu,” he called the phoenix demon, his voice noticeably softer. 

“Sir?”

“You’re the only one I trust right now…” James knelt down, gently removing Ophelia’s arms from him, “Can you watch her while I talked to Youko?”

“No,” Ophelia cried out, “Don’t leave me please.”

“Shh,” he hushed her, gently patting her head, “Sazu is a good man. He’ll protect you, I promise.”

“I want to stay with you!” She latched onto him with a strength he didn’t expect from such a tiny being. “Don’t leave me alone!”

“I’m not, I’m not going anywhere,” he assured her, “I just have to talk to Youko, only for a few minutes. I’ll be right back.”

“Hey, kiddo,” Sazu bent down to Ophelia’s level so he could look directly into her milk-blue eyes, “Sem-san tells me you like to draw?” Ophelia nodded cautiously. “Yeah? Can you teach me?”

Ophelia looked at James once more, the dog demon mouthing more words of comfort, before taking Sazu’s warm hand and allowing him to lead her away. She never stopped watching him, and James allowed his green eyes to linger on her small form- like a father watching a stranger take his daughter- as if this was the last time their eyes would meet. 

Even with the overwhelming sadness that embraced the entire village like a straightjacket, the possibility that Youko coordinated this elaborate trap lingered in the back of his mind. As James approached the sliding door, with death emitting from the cracks in the wood, he wondered if he should be more prepared to join his ally in the afterlife. He didn’t know if any decision he had made up to this point was right. But he knew, if Youko attacked once the dog walked through those doors, he wasn’t going out without a fight. 

Slowly, he slid open the door- one more breath- before entering. 

James always felt there was a calming silence when death made his appearance. Soothing even while those left alive struggled with the pain. Youko sat next to Kira, a white sheet covering her form, with his hands folded against his lips. He didn’t stir when the dog demon walked into his room, hardly even noticing the other body occupying his space. Pensive golden eyes, wet and soft, remained unwavering.

James recalled being one of the first to discover the budding relationship between Kira and Youko- and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t jealous at the sudden attention the wolf-demon received from the fox. However, when the question of his feelings were brought up, on more than one occasion, James would bite his tongue till it bled before admitting why he secretly despised the woman. And even though he never regretted the moment he picked up her unconscious body and brought her into their life, he sometimes wished he hadn’t done so much to save her- and he knew how selfish it made him. Often at war with himself for how his coldness towards her in the four years made him feel horrible. How could she know how he felt for the fox? When he never let on, even for a moment, the way his heart would crack when he saw the two of them, under the full moon sharing their intimate moments. 

Why didn’t he resent Youko? Who exploited those feelings to keep him in check. He recalled the day Youko returned to the village after they found the girls. He remembered how he felt when Youko smirked in his face and insulted him with empty threats, before he locked his attention on Kira. He remembered the way his stomach dropped when he saw them together on the balcony. And then later when he approached Youko, buttered up on the alcohol the fox shoved in his hands, and asked him one last time if he could ever feel the same. Hoping Youko would set him free...or better yet…

But the silver fox, smirked, brushed a long finger down the side of James’ face and promised the dog would always hold a place in his heart. Like acid it burned. The dynamic changed immediately. Suddenly, Kira was second in command, and James was left to fall in rank with the rest of the common thieves. 

  James took a few moments to recite a prayer in his head, one he long forgot, for forgiveness. From Kira, from himself.  

“Getting religious on me now?” Youko finally said, as if hearing the dog demon’s thoughts.

“Sometimes it brings me comfort in times of great unrest,” James replied coolly. 

The tension between the two was thick. Like two opposing magnets being forced together, James could feel himself being pushed away from Youko. 

“Did you bring that girl back?” The fox demon’s voice was dangerously low. 

“You know I did.”

James clenched his fist and gritted his teeth- briefly calling into question walking back into that village. The thought had crossed his mind several times before- he always chose to stay.  Now he had a guiltless out and yet, found himself once again standing before the fox demon, begging for acceptance. 

Youko let out a dejected sigh that caught James off guard, “Have I ever told you about my previous clan?”

James’ dog ears flinched. “No. You’ve been tight lipped about that; like most things from your past.”

The fox nodded. “I had this subordinate who was...impulsive, to say the least. Often got the clan into dangerous situations that could have easily been avoided. While he was fiercely loyal to me, I could not deny that he was more of a liability than an asset…” Youko reflected for a moment; he could sense James’ heat rise as if anticipating the fox’s next vacant words. “So I removed him from the situation.”

“What are you saying,Youko?” James said quickly, scanning his leader’s face for meaning. The normally stone, pale face, suddenly seemed cracked and worn. Like a brilliantly crafted vase succumbing to years of wear and tear. 

“I hear the whispers through the halls; and maybe they are right,” Youko flashed his gold eyes at James; riddled with years of torment and sadness that for centuries he kept under lock. “Maybe it’s time for a change in the chain of command. For now.”

The dog demon knitted his eyebrows together, his tail falling limp as his ears wilted. “Who do you suppose-”

“Don’t be modest,” Youko's sharp tone clashed with the gloom that stitched along his face. He rose from his seat, bringing his eyes back to his lover. “We’ll bury her several meters from the garden so her body could nourish the earth. Gather everyone so they may send their farewells to the afterlife.”

James nodded, “Yes sir.” He turned to leave, but Youko called one last time-

“And James...this is my final order. Do you understand?”

He grimaced but murmured a soft yes, even though deep down he didn’t desire the responsibility. Youko had at least 200 years on him walking the Earth. His experience was a key element to the survival of their clan and the preservation of the comfortability of the village. James felt like a puppy walking out of the room to the pleading eyes of the remaining villagers. He relayed their leader’s commands with empty delivery, in a voice he barely recognized. The cautious exchange of looks from the people now thrusted under his care made him feel weak. They dispersed to plan the funeral, while murmurs of doubt reached his heightened ears. 

James would later recall this moment where he felt that it was only a matter of time before everything fell apart. A guilt that he would carry on his conscience with the rest of his mistakes. 

Before he could decide to turn heel, grab the child, and run from his responsibility, Akul and Amar appeared before him. Bowing with a resounding sir, they looked more frazzled and unsure than when he sent them away. 

“Sir, we found Skull,” Akul started. 

“Well, what was left of him…” Amar mumbled.

James narrowed his eyes on the two. Akul elbowed his brother and continued. “His body was completely gone. We found ash in the area that tasted like flesh. It seems Hiei may have burnt him alive.”

“So then how do you know it was Skull?”

The brothers looked at each other and sighed. Amar spoke up, “Well, we found his head on a spike not too far from the village…”

“Right,” James groaned, “Good stuff. Any trace of Hiei?”

“To be honest,” Akul said nervously, “We didn’t really go looking for him…”

“Probably for the best,” James nodded, “Okay. Let’s keep this between us, right? There’s been enough talk of death today.”

Earlier, the entire village was alive with talk of the future. Now, only the sounds of soft sobs and crackling fire from funeral torches seem to exist. All talk of a feast to celebrate their accomplishments gave way to the silent preparation of Kira’s final send off. The entire clan marched towards the garden- her garden - where just beyond where the bright purple flowers grew, they would lay her to rest. The grave was dug by the men, as the resident carpenter put together a memorial in the form of a cross with her name burnt into the wood. While they did not particularly pray to any deity, they hoped it would serve as a symbol for a painless pass to the afterlife. A place where they could pay their respects. And Youko didn’t seem bothered enough to argue. 

Her body laid in the ground. The beings she protected surrounded her grave, all with their tongues suddenly robbed of the ability to speak. What was there to say? Everyone had cautiously looked at Youko, whose eyes were hidden behind silver bangs. 

But he wasn’t looking at them, or at Kira. 

This would be a moment he would lament for decades to come; even if he learned to accept his decision. 

He looked across the grave, on the opposite side, where Kira’s sister clutched the hand of his most trusted ally; half her face covered by James' strong arm, but he could see her eyes. 

And she was a vortex. A black hole. 

He watched her as they buried her sister, covering her once strong body with dirt. 

There was nothing. No expression. Imagine, a child’s face with all evidence of life sucked from it. 

And she was staring right back. With those vacant blue eyes that fogged with white. 

And for the first time, Youko couldn’t tell if he was hunter or prey when faced with Ophelia. 

And it wouldn’t be the last time. 

Chapter Text

The end has begun.

6̶̡̟͇͕̱̥̹̻̲̼͖̤̫͚́̅̐͌̎̎̕̕̕̕͝ͅ6̴̧̡̤͖̩̹̳̲̰̺̯̖̭́ ̸͎̪̖̙͍̻̀́̕̕s̴̪̺͓̳͍̗̙̖͉̥̲̞̈́̌͊̒e̷͓̬̯̝͋̀͗̎̈̈́̆͑̅̅͌͠͝͝a̸̧͈̹̼̥͓̅͛̕l̶͍̼̭͎̣̃͛̍̓̍̆͆͊̏͘̚͝͠͝s̷̞̗̤̣̗̥̳̽͛̾͘ ̸̡̙̹̪̤͈̱̖̝̽̾͒̀͑͊̀̆̐͗̾t̵̢̳̘͕͈̲͎̘̼̣̠̻̫̪͛̑̓̈͊̍̈́̊̈́͆̿̕͜͝͠ȯ̸̦͕̭̥̠̮͂̏̈͊͜ͅ ̸̩̬̝͉̫̠͖͙̯̻̬̫͛͑ͅb̶̥͐̈̓r̶̠͔̭̋̏̾̂ę̸͔͂ả̸̹͖̣̉͗̃́́̔̊̒̑̉͐̕k̴̯̮̣͌͋

Join Us. 

Human World: 2001

The ceiling above her was not the same as the one Ophelia was staring at when blackness overtook her.

This ceiling was too perfect popcorn white, not the crackling yellow asbestos with hints of toxic mold where the tile met the wall. In fact, this ceiling connected to bright blue, four walls, where shadows formed against glass pictures of plants thanks to the light emitting from the balcony which overlooked the Tokyo skyline. 

But not the ceiling, nor the walls, nor the shadows which twisted into terrible figures, had Ophelia concerned as her eyes adjusted to the twilight darkness. 

It was the smell. 

The stench of roses wafted into her nose and she jerked up, puking black liquid from chapped lips, directly into a perfectly placed bucket which rested next to the bed. 

Not her bed. 

No, this bed felt soft against her skin. The cotton from white sheets caressed her bare legs and she recoiled as if the fabric burned her. 

She inhaled sharply. Her lungs struggled to expand as if out of practice. Burning like fire. Sending her back into the bucket. Hot tears stung her eyes and every time her stomach lurched, it felt like a thousand knives tearing her body from the inside. 

This, she thought, was one of the worst pains she could feel- her body dying and resurrecting. But she couldn’t remember dying. Or what had happened before her vision tunneled and her eyes accepted the blackness of the abyss. 

When her vomiting turned to dry heaves, she sat on the bed, trying to steady her blurry thoughts- trying to recall from the dark recesses of her brain, how she ended up in a strangers disgustingly clean bedroom which now stank of roses and puke. 

Maybe not a stranger. 

She pulled at the shirt, which sloppily hung on her body. It read “Meiori High” in black letters. She knitted her eyebrows, as if the words looked like alien text. What is a Meiori, and why are they high?  

A knock on the oak door in front of her broke through the city silence. Ophelia tensed. She accepted she was in no position to physically attack whoever was behind the polite knocking- but at least she could make them suffer mentally. 

The door cracked, “Are you awake?” The soft voice echoed. She bit her lip- as inviting as that voice sounded, she could still hear the edge that threatened her like a sword.  The person pushed the door open and cautiously entered. His hands mockingly up as if surrendering and a gentle smile on his face. 

And Ophelia didn’t care what mask he wore. She saw past those pleasant green eyes and long red hair. She knew who rested within that human meat suit- and she could feel him stir from within like a beast slowly awakening. Those golden eyes which troubled her since she was a child flashed before her. 

But he approached her, with an air of neutrality. “I hope I didn’t startle you,” he began, “You’ve been out for a while-”

“Where am I?” She snapped, balling the clean, cotton, sheets in her fists. 

“My guest room,” a gentle laugh rocked his body, “In my apartment. In the city. In Ja-”

“Okay, I get it,” She grumbled, wondering when he acquired a sense of humor, “Why am I here?”

He took a seat at the edge of the bed, and she pushed herself back. She watched a flash of hurt rush through his face; confusing her even more. “What do you remember?” His tone shifted. Sadness. Almost...pity?

She pursed her lips and tried to make sense of the jumbled images that clouded her already exhausted brain. The last thing she could clearly remember: smoking a cigarette in her run down, roach infested apartment, that wasn’t so much hers but the old woman who had died a few weeks before currently rotting in the floorboards. Maybe not rotting anymore , the thought echoed through her head. She remembered extinguishing the cigarette on the window which overlooked Kabukicho, Tokyo; she had noted how filthy it was and how she just added to it like a virus. That’s what you are right? Another voice in her head. 

And the song. Bung bung bung bung bung

Bung bung bung bung bung

Bung bung bung. 

“I remember Mr. Sandman by the Chordettes,” she whispered. 

He arched an eyebrow, “Can’t say I’ve heard that one.”

“Not sure if it was really playing, or…” She trailed off, slowly bringing her eyes to him again. He nodded, as if understanding her fractured thoughts. Which she hated. She always hated how he could flash her a look and examine her face and just know what she was thinking. There was another one who could do that - but she didn’t hate it then, did she?

“Why don’t you come out to the kitchen? I made some tea. Maybe we can figure everything out together?” He rose from the bed and walked towards the door; never losing this strange comforting air around him. She couldn’t tell if it was the softness in his voice that let her drop her guard a bit, or how wide and innocent those human eyes looked as they shimmered against the darkness. Maybe it was the stories she had heard about him after he entered his human body. The love he had for his human mother. The sacrifices he made for a team of mis-matched hooligans. Or maybe when presented with the chance to make good on a threat he made nearly 100 years ago, he didn’t. But she already knew she would follow him in that kitchen. 

However, there was one thing she needed to settle. 

“Youko…” she mumbled, playing with her fingers like she did as a child. 

He stopped short, as if the name cemented him to the spot.  “You don’t need to call me that.” He turned with a smile, “Kurama is fine these days.”

She nodded, “Kurama, then.” She took a deep, dramatic, breath, “Are...these your boxers I’m wearing?”

Ophelia never saw the fox look completely caught off guard. He stuttered and fumbled over his words like a teenage boy. “Uhm, I-I’m afraid so…”

“Okay, okay,” she shifted and felt the material of the floral men's boxers that looked more like thin shorts on her short frame. “Why am I wearing your clothes?”

Kurama scratched the back of his head and tried to look at everything else in the room, except the girl sitting on the bed. “We...Let’s go talk about it over some tea. Maybe I can fill in some of the blanks.”

She relented, sliding off the bed. The hardwood floor was cold against her feet as she followed Kurama down the hallway of his apartment. She admitted, silently, that his place was far nicer than hers. Well, probably because he isn’t squatting . The walls were free of scuff marks and holes. Instead, there were scattered pictures of him in various stages of his human life: He and his mother when he was a child, with his human family, dressed in graduation garb, a diploma from a university. She paused at one small picture with a black frame. Kurama and a bunch of his new friends- or new clan. Strangers to Ophelia except for one, mean mugging fire demon scowling in the corner. And she hated the way her heart decided to jump start at the moment. And she needed to control the urge to take the picture from the wall and slam it against the floor. Let the sound of shattering glass sooth her for a moment. 

Dramatic much?

The demon he had sent to spy on her would agree if he still had vocal cords. Or was alive .

Not her property. And she broke plenty of Youko- or Kurama’s things when she lived under his roof the first time. The first time suggests a second time . And this was, she figured. Back to the beginning. Everything eventually comes full circle, like some mocking cliche. 

Ophelia pulled her blue eyes from the picture, noting the weary expression she wore in her reflection in the glass, and met Kurama in his kitchen. His apartment was small. The hallway opened up to a large room: on her right, a living room with black leather couch, small coffee table, and TV. On every surface, end tables and shelves included plants. Human world plants, she noticed. All different and vibrant colors, which enhanced the stark white walls. To her left, a small modern kitchen, with an island that separated the two rooms. Some bar stools used for seating rested next to it. She helped herself to a seat while Kurama placed a steaming cup of tea in front of her. 

She watched the heat rise from the black mug in front of her dance before her eyes. She cupped the hot cup, feeling the tingles of heat vibrate against her palms. She wondered how she could both fear heat but find comfort when it singes her skin. What could that say about you? She wonders to no one. Not even herself. 

“So,” Kurama started, leaning against the island and taking a small sip of liquid that had to be too hot. “You just remember the song? Nothing else?”

“Nothing.” She grunted. And an image of her as a moody teenager flashed across Kurama’s mind. 

“I see...” he gently placed the mug on the table. 

“What!” She ungratefully snapped. An action she immediately regretted when his eyes instinctively narrowed and she swore for a moment his eyes flashed from welcoming green to the two golden coins she was more familiar with. She felt small, like she did when he stood before her a towering silver statue red with rage. 

But he softened his face; it was almost patronizing to Ophelia how he seemed to pity her. Her eyes were worn with tragedies from stories she knitted in the back of her lips so they wouldn’t dare tumble from her mouth. But he knew them, she could tell.

 Of course he would. 

She remembered seeing him with that other guy when they stormed the gates of Spirit World. The first time she had seen his human form. And he gave her that same look. Like she was something to mourn. 

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, the boxers bunching up. “Sorry, I just felt an interrogation coming.” He laughed gently, which actually startled her more than comforted.  She shot him a perplexed look, “What?’

“Nothing, you just remind me of someone I know.”

Her eyes drift back to the impossible to drink beverage that Kurama called tea. “So, you said you could fill in the blanks for me. Care to share? I’m shaking in suspense in your shorts.”

Kurama grimaced at the image. “Right,” he struggled against his brain on where to begin; trying to avoid statements that would reveal more questions than answers; and questions he was not permitted to answer. “There was a fire at your apartment complex.”

“Oh,” her voice trailed off. She thought this could explain the burning in her lungs. A familiar sensation. 

“I got there right as the flames breached your apartment. You were in the tub…” Which explains the lack of clothing. “ You were unconscious...from the smoke. I managed to get you out before the fire consumed the rest of the building. Unfortunately...you were the only one I could rescue.”

He wasn’t looking at her as he re-hashed the events that led her to his place. His words were a careful mix of slow and steady, and rapid fire. She couldn’t make out if he was recalling a memory or rehearsing. And she hated that she couldn’t peel back that carefully constructed blockade around his thoughts. She had to take his word; for what it was worth. 

“How did you know I was there?” She questioned, tapping the glass of the mug with her fingernail. Ding ding ding. 

He smirked- not the response she wanted. “I keep tabs on all my allies and enemies.”

“Oh? Which one am I?”

“I guess that remains to be seen,” he joked, but she didn’t particularly find him funny. “I know you’ve been living in the human world for sometime. I’m actually insulted that you didn’t think to call or write to your old friend.”

She scoffed, “I wasn’t sure you wanted to hear from me. We didn’t exactly end on the best terms. Up until this second, I was sure you hated me.”

He looked away, towards the emptiness of his apartment. Recalling the events of their last meeting. Also fire and flames. More running from mobs that want them extinct. He remembered the events as if told to him from another being- which may be an accurate description. But he couldn’t remember the last thing he said to her before they were separated. Or the way he felt when he escaped- relief? But he remembered...that for ten years after her sister died he never called her by her name. Acted as if she was a pariah. A disease. 

More clearly, he remembered when they broke into Spirit World. Hiei had avoided mentioning her role in the robbery until she was in his face- deranged from years in captivity. And if his concern wasn’t on his human mother, maybe he would have completed what he started all those years ago. 

But that was also a long time ago. Maybe ten years ago, if he was keeping count. “I don’t hate you,” he assured her in a voice that suddenly didn’t seem like his. “Not enough, at least, to let you burn to death.”

Wouldn’t be the first time? “Right,” she clenched her teeth. She wondered if she could believe him. He just so happened to know where she was hiding? And he just so happened to know that a fire threatened her life? And he lifted a finger, or manipulated a vine, to pull her from her watery tomb surrounded by flame? Why? Why were you in the bathtub? 

Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to.

 “So...no survivors, huh? There were kids there…” She said sadly, biting her bottom lip and looking back the table; eyes wilted and torn like a destroyed siberian squill*. 

“Oh...” Kurama felt a wave of sadness rush through him, “anyone you were close to?”

She wanted to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of that statement, but remembered that Kurama may not have been given all the information . She pinched her lips and grumbled,  “No. I don’t get close to kids.”

Silence breached the two as the clock over Kurama’s oven ticked down the seconds. He tapped the marble island as he worked out a deal in his head. He knew the moment her body was laid in his spare bedroom, he would once again feel forced responsibility for the girl. He was different back then; unwelcoming. She was too- albeit more troubling in the past than she was now. He watched her in his peripheral vision. Her eyes a magnificent pale blue that reminded him of the flowers that rested on the balcony of the spare room; no longer clouded as they were when she was child. Something about her eyes being untouched brought a sense of comfort. Ophelia looked as she did on her twentieth birthday- the last of her birthday they celebrated in the village. Icy skin like porcelain which clashed with long black hair. Her face was worn, however. And even if she stopped aging physically at twenty, she held all the pain of a woman in her nineties. Broken memories. Filled with regret. 

How he could relate. 

“You can stay here,” he suggested calmly, “until you get back on your feet.”

When were you ever really “on your feet? “Really,” she was shocked. “Are you sure?”

“Unless you have another place you could go?”

She rolled the question through her head. Technically, James was still around; but he lived in demon world with people she couldn’t bear to face. Not right now. Maybe not ever. And then there was the issue of crossing the border. And the issue with the being in charge of that border. And while she wished for better options than playing this father-daughter role once again (a role they both failed miserably at being convincing), her legs ached, and her brain was still misfiring, and maybe she was tired of running. 

But she also remembered how well it turned out last time. “Why would you do that for me?”

Kurama bitterly laughed and shook his head. “I made a promise a long time ago I didn’t keep. Maybe, you’re meant to be here.”

So, my apartment burnt down to clear your guilty conscience ? She wanted to say. But she caught the words before she spat them. She didn’t want to push her luck. “Thank you…” 

Another tense silence passed through them. She thought for a moment he was going to speak again. She felt this aura of uncertainty surrounding him; it radiated and pushed at her chest as if wanting to speak a truth he couldn’t. It hung over their heads like an anvil on a weak thread. 

“Ophelia…”

“Don’t call me that!” She bit, narrowing her eyes at the liquid as if it had called her that name . “I don’t go by that anymore.”

“My apologies,” he said almost condescendingly, curling his lips into a frown- and the aura disappeared. “What name do you go by these days? There’s been so many.”

Kurama wasn’t exaggerating. Every lifetime, a new persona to hide behind. With it, a new name to learn and become as familiar to her as breathing. That her original name almost felt like a fake. But so many, too many, names. Too many lives. All with their own painful memories. Why add to them?

“Lia is fine,” she finally took a sip; the tea still steaming as she brought it to her lips. But she remembered: the heat doesn’t hurt her. 

Kurama nodded, “What your sister used to call you?” A genuine smile spread across his face as he thought of his former partner. A memory that hadn’t graced his dreams for decades. “Seems appropriate all things considered.”

Running from flames. 

Back to the beginning.

Chapter Text

Lia laid upon Kurama’s guest bed, clothed in another worn out shirt from his youth and some shorts a former lady friend happened to leave behind. She didn’t question where the lady friend had gone sans her shorts; she was just happy to not be wearing something that had once touched Kurama’s... thing . She scrunched her nose in disgust. She could never wrap her head about the fascination for the silver fox; the men and women in the village tripped over themselves just to get a glimpse of him in the nude. The whole thing made Lia sick. 

Maybe ‘cause you have a thing for short guys ? The thought mocked in the back of her head. She clenched her teeth so tightly, she thought she might break them. Maybe then it would shut up . But no luck. She could hear it laughing like an echo that bounced throughout her brain and forced a migraine to appear that no amount of aspirin could quell. She’ll just suffer

And Suffer

and go on suffering. 

Because death has never been a relief from that either. And considering she should be well into her nineties, with the body of a twenty-five-year-old, and the mind of a moody sixteen year old , she would be doing this solo dance with herself for….ever…

She groaned into the atmosphere and tried to direct her thoughts to another issue. 

Kurama. 

He never had an issue with lying to her, and why should this be any different? She brought her arms up, so that the palms of her hands were facing her. Blue veins on her wrists stared back. She brought them closer- thinking she saw what looked like two parallel scars about the length of her pinky. But they were as pale as her skin- maybe even paler. And couldn’t tell if they were from a recent event, or just a mark that stitched her skin and veins together. Like a doll. 

She dropped her arms next to her with a disjointed sign. The room suddenly felt like a coffin- small and dark as the sun broke through the horizon. It smelled like a funeral home with the plethora of flowers that decorated the inside. She jumped off the bed and headed for the door. She needed something to calm her nerves- something that tasted like poison on her tongue- and she needed a moment of reprieve from Kurama’s watchful green eyes.  It had already been two days since she woke up in his room with a headache and lungs filled with smoke. She had wanted to investigate the fire- but Kurama convinced her against it. For now. And while she was stuck wearing what could barely be considered clothing, she was trapped. 

Or was she? 

She tiptoed towards the living room; freezing every time the wood creaked against her footing. She clenched her jaw, seemingly holding her breath until she made it down the hall. Only to round the corner and see Kurama, sitting on his couch with one leg over the other, thumbing through a book. 

“Going somewhere?” He asked cooly. 

Lia huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “I need some air. Your entire apartment smells like flowers. It’s suffocating. How do you even live like this?”

“Hm, you’re the first to complain,” he smiled, “The balcony is open for you to get some air. Unless that’s not the real reason?”

“I need a cigarette,” she said sternly. 

He disappointedly shook his head. “What a terrible habit. You know, just because you are not human doesn’t mean you are immune to the negative effects of nicotine.”

“Well, I’ve been smoking since the 20s and it’s the one thing that hasn’t killed me yet.”

Lia hated the fatherly tone in his voice. The soft look in his eyes flushed with concern. She hated the way he closed the book and placed it on the coffee table, as if every move lectured her further.

“And how do you expect to pay for them?” He sat up straight, hands on his lap. 

She arched an eyebrow. “Who said anything about paying?” He titled his head as if confused by her statement and she wanted to laugh at the sheer irony of the thieving fox being confused about stealing. “I was going to use my jedi powers to convince them to give me a pack.” She dramatically waves her hand in front of Kurama, “Give me a pack of Seven stars.”

“I see…” his voice trailed off- and she noted to expose Kurama to the Star Wars franchise during her stay- then he nodded at her. “Dressed like that? I’m not sure you’d need to use your powers of persuasion on them.”

She examined her outfit. The shorts were a bit on the tiny side, exposing nearly her entire legs. It didn’t help that Kurama’s shirt looked more like a dress on her small frame. Not really appropriate for the streets of Japan, she figured. “Well, once I know exactly where I am, I can just transmute from the storefront to your apartment. I’ll be less likely to draw attention that way.”

“Are you sure about that?” He condescended, rising from the couch and walked to the island where his wallet rested next to a set of keys. He grabbed the wallet and fished through its contents. Suddenly, Lia felt like a teenager again. And even though Kurama, or James who was in charge of her at the time, didn’t barter with money, they would shove gold or crystals in her hand to exchange for goods. But she was a kid back then. Not in control of her powers. She didn’t need his help now. 

“Here,” he handed her 10,000 yen. She stared at the bills with her lips curled into an ungrateful frown. “That should be enough to get some appropriate clothing and satisfy your craving, for now. And,” he walked behind the island and presented a small black bag to Ophelia, “This is going to be embarrassing, but I figured you couldn’t continue wearing my clothes. Hopefully they fit well enough.”

She wanted to punch him in his smiling face. 

“I guess that solves two of my immediate problems, but how am I going to pay you back?” She pushed. She appreciated his help-sure- but she wasn’t a child. And she didn’t want to continue to be indebted to the fox. 

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m working on that for you.” He added. “I have a friend who manages a bar near the neutral zone. He’s in need of a bartender. I mentioned your bar experience and he wants to set up an interview as soon as possible.”

Now it was her turn to smile. She cocked her head to the side and widened her innocent blue eyes. “Bar experience? Who told you that?”

Kurama paused. She could see the gears turn in his head; and while she had a sneaking suspicion who the culprit was, she wanted to hear it from his mouth. Those two spent some of their time discussing all her accomplishments and failures. “Well, is it not true?”

She picked up the bag and examined the contents. Black jeans, black tank top, a hoodie and some sneakers. At least he relayed her favorite color to the fox. “It wasn’t a bar,” she brought her eyes to his, “It was a strip club and I was a dancer.”

Kurama’s cheeks flushed, and Lia swore she saw him softly gag- and only he could make such a disgusting act look soft- and she was glad that they were mutually not attracted to each other. “Okay,” he tried to rack his brain for a response.

“But I mean,” she shifted her hips, “how hard could it be? Just pour some beer for some drunk demons and psychics? At least I don’t have to do tricks on a pole to get paid. Not that there’s anything wrong with that , Kurama. I just got over a shoulder injury and don’t want to aggravate it, you know? I mean, if he wants a stripper, I’m there. I have this awesome routine to ‘Leper Messiah  by Metallica.”

She noticed his eyes flashed gold and threatening and could hardly contain her sardonic smile from inching across her face. “I don’t think he is in need of a dancer,” his even tone returned, “I can put the two of you in touch with each other if you are interested?”

Lia thought for a moment. She lived in the human world for, what was it? Five years now, maybe? Time seemed to blend. One day giving into the other, like a thread with no end. And this wasn’t the first time she found herself living amongst the humans; but time had certainly changed since then. A job wasn’t her ideal path. But what were you doing before ? Existing? 

“That sounds fine with me,” she sighed, “probably should try getting my shit together, huh?”

“No judgement, everyone goes through life differently,” Kurama empathized, “what constitutes ‘together’ varies. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Easier said than done . However, Lia actually felt better with Kurama’s approval. And she was shocked how much she still yearned for his acceptance. “Thanks,” she smiled warmly, “I’m just going to get changed and head out for a bit.”

He nodded, “Just one more thing, before you go. You should know there’s a new Spirit Detective walking around-”

“No, freaking way,” Lia interrupted, “I thought the last two turned out to be psychopaths?”

“Well, one. The other one turned out to be a demon- the mazaku.”

“Oh, fancy,” she mocked, “So, what, Spirit World is a glutton for punishment? Don’t learn from their mistakes? I mean, I can relate.”

Kurama laughed, “It’s more of a precaution, considering how poorly lifting the barrier went. Spirit World felt this was a...compromise I guess. Keep the Spirit Defense Force on the backburner to quell concerns from the demon world, but have someone around to ‘keep the peace’ if you will.”

Lia thought the whole lifting the curtain was a foolish pipe dream. Who would have thought humans couldn’t handle the prospect that they weren’t top of the food chain? That there were beings out there with special abilities, powers, and skills that could dismantle their carefully constructed society. She noted how the U.S, U.K, Russia, and some of the other ‘more advance” world powers nearly shat themselves and attacked like it was a knee jerk reaction. She could have told anyone that, having lived amongst most of those countries during her long life. Or just being aware of the history of humanity. Humans kill each other for looking different. For speaking a different language. Worshipping a different God. The fact the Demon King even thought they could co-exist peacefully proved his ignorance. 

And then, not even considering that the demon world was bigger than Tourin, Alaric, and Gandara. That there were more territories and civilizations and demons who all had different feelings about the barrier coming down? Some who eagerly sprung the coop once the weakened gate opened only to find it difficult to assimilate- even worse, found themselves dead. Or the purist, who found the mixing of humans and demons to be a direct insult to their heritage and history. How many demons were murdered at the hands of humans? How many humans by demons? 

But even more ridiculous, than all of that, was the fact that some punk kid was the one responsible for the entire upheaval of the Eastern Demon Hemisphere? Did no one, not one single demon lord, question why they were taking advice from a 16 year old kid? . 

And that’s why they will all die .

She crushed the thought instantly. Shaking her head gently so as not to alert Kurama to her fractured mind. 

Whatever. It all worked out. Memories wiped. The re-introduction to the Spirit Detective job, now globally. Spirit World in peaceful talks with not just the Demon King, Enki, but the other demon governments which sprouted as the result of such a poorly contrived plan. Neutral zones established for the integration of spiritually aware humans and weaker demons. Everyone co-existing. Peacefully. For Now . 

“So, anything I should know about this ‘Spirit Detective?” She asked, “I mean, what’s his job really? Make sure no demon in the human world steps out of line and tries to eat a buncha people?”

“That’s supposed to be the job description,” Kurama sighed heavily, “it seems he believes he’s...not exactly trusting of our kind. Saburo has taken an extensive interest in those of us who have been settled in human world for quite some time. I’ve seen him around my job, around my family.” Lia noted an edge to Kurama’s tone, the way his eyes darkened at the mention of his human family, “And he’s taken an interest in you.”

She pursed her lips, “How do you know that?”

“I told you, I keep tabs on all my allies.”

“And enemies.”

He nodded, “I’m not entirely sure if his motives are pure.”

“Got it,” she gave him a thumbs up, “So, be sparse with using my powers.”

“Exactly.” 

Frustrating, to say the least. But now that she was living with Kurama, for the foreseeable future, her life was no longer just hers. She noted the picture of him and his family- mother, step-brother, and step-father. She looked back at the first round of the Dark Tournament all those years ago; the ferocity of his attack once his family was threatened. She wondered where this Kurama was hiding all those years ago. Could a mother’s kindness really be that powerful?

“Thanks for the heads up, Kurama,” she said softly, “I’ll refrain from the Jedi mind-trick.” She winked and started for her room. 

“One more thing,” he called back, “Do avoid going to your apartment.” She stopped short and bit her tongue. He knows too much . “I have it on good authority he’s been hanging around there since the fire. It has...piqued his interest.” 

She turned her head, with a cheshire smile upon her face, “Noted.”

Lia wondered if Kurama forgot who he was dealing with? When did she ever listen to a command from his mouth- no matter how soft his tone. Once she acquired her cigarettes, using tangible money, she immediately walked in the direction of her apartment. It was a trek. Kurama must have been lurking around close by when the fire started. He was fast, but that fast?

Someone else is that fast though . 

She wished she was in America. At least then she could light up a cigarette without getting harassed for being rude.  

The long walk offered some time to think- though she debated if that was a good thing. She tried to recall the events of that night, but only made it to the window and the song before she’s met with nothing. Pure blackout. Like when she drowned herself in alcohol. Which, in recent years, has been a more common occurrence than she wanted to admit. Falling back into bad habits, like she did the first time she lived in human world. Numbing herself with drugs and liquid poison, and trying to see if smoking could kill something like her. But none of it worked, did it? She would wake up, again, with a headache and a mistake in her bed that made her disgusted with herself a little bit more. 

And boy, if her sister could see her now? Was that sacrifice even worth it? Kira must be rolling in her grave- if her grave still existed and wasn’t destroyed with the rest of their previous life. 

When the thoughts get this bad, Lia justified them with how unforgiving her life had been. Everyone has their coping mechanisms. Kurama threw himself into his human life. School, work, family. She assumed there was a girl or two floating around. Maybe even a healthy relationship. 

She laughed to herself.

What’s that?

A healthy codependency doesn’t exist. 

She thought, maybe that’s why he left without so much as a goodbye. Just walked out that door, after unleashing a slew of promises he was already in the process of breaking, and never came back. 

And maybe she overreacted when she killed the spy he sent to watch over her.

Or when she burned down the apartment they were going to share.

Or when she showed up to his new home, took one of his subordinates hostage, and threatened to lay waste to anyone who got in her way. 

Coping. 

How embarrassing . That was true. James told her that much when he was forced to retrieve her from the dungeon of Lord Mukuro’s castle. And the green-eyed dog lectured her the entire way to Tourin where he decided to play house with Shishiwakamaru and Suzuki and Mitsuki to form a little fucked up family. That was an interesting conversation. One Shishiwakamaru refused to let her live down. 

What did he say? You're not hot enough to be that crazy . He didn’t say that a week later when Lia decided to cope on his-

Lia stopped. 

Her legs burned from the speed walking, but she made it home. 

Or what was left of it. 

Her hands trembled as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a cigarette. It took three pulls of the lighter to ignite. She took a sharp inhale, letting the flames and smoke burn her throat and lungs. Release. How ironic that death felt like freedom? Or that she keeps finding herself drawn to things that can kill her. 

She blew the black smoke towards the wreckage. 

Yellow tape surrounded the square where her apartment complex once stood as a tall, dilapidated, wood and stone coffin. But it was gone. Black ash that still smoked with remnants of flame was all the evidence left. 

Did they find any bodies?

Kurama told her no one survived. 

But the paper told her they were still reported missing because they found no remains.

What kind of fire can burn that hot?

Her stomach dropped. Mourning? She felt hot tears break her blue eyes. She could hear the crying, in the distance. The children, still screaming as their flesh burns. 

“You know, it’s rude to smoke near a fire?” 

She felt the air leave her body. The voice approached to her right and he smelled disgustingly human. And why did she decide to not listen to Kurama, again? She turned her head slightly, moving her eyes up the form. He was significantly taller than her, which wasn’t difficult, but he was easily a head taller than Kurama’s human form. He wore black slacks, a white untucked button down, and a black sports jacket- and Lia thought this guy was taking his job a little too seriously with that ridiculous costume. His brown hair was slicked back with enough gel that it shimmered in the new morning sun.

One thing she noticed, he looked painfully normal. Nothing about his face stood out. He could be easily missed in a crowd. Not traditionally handsome. Just there . 

She clicked her tongue, “I don’t see a fire.”

“Well, there was a fire,” his lips curved into a small, bitter grin. “Did you live here? They’re looking for-”

“No.” She bit back, “I’m not from here.”

“Hm,” he chuckled, “I could tell as much. You don’t look, or sound, Japanese. Where from? The states? Canada?”

She mindlessly took drags from her cigarette, focusing her eyes on the wreckage in front of her. “America,” she lied, “I’m here visiting family.”

“Interesting.” he slittered and she clenched her jaw. A chilling wind cut through the pair; and Lia became aware that they were the only two in the area. The late morning sun hung overhead, calling those who work days to their jobs while the night workers were safely tucked in their beds. The cars offered some relief from the bitter loneliness she felt. But the fear of standing next to a threat, a human man no less, caused her hands to sweat. And if she used any of her powers, it would alert him to her- more so than, she guessed, he already was. Was he waiting for her there? Did he think she would come back? She bit her lip, way to play into his hand.

“You know,” he continued, “They still haven’t found the bodies. They were about sixty units, I believe. Not all were filled, apparently. Maybe a total of 20 families? Children too. Little ones. The fire started around midnight, and burned all night. But no one heard screaming. And not a single person in that apartment called 119.” He paused and she felt his eyes burning into her small form. “Wonder...how that happens?”

Maybe they were already dead?

Lia unknowingly knitted her eyebrows together. But she could sense the voice evaporate from her mind as quickly as it came. She brought her cigarette to her lips for one more long inhale, before flicking it towards the yellow tape. 

“Don’t know,” she shrugged, “hopefully they find out.”

She caught his smile. It looked unnatural. It stretched across his face from ear to ear. Big mouth with small teeth that looked sharp like fangs. His eyes were a deep brown that almost looked black; not even the sun illuminated them. Dead soulless eyes. And if he didn’t reek of human, with his fleshly pale skin that beaded with sweat, and the loud thumping of his heart as it pushed his circulatory system, she might have mistook him for a monster. She felt the warmth of his Spirit energy. Like electricity bouncing off his skin. 

“Well,” she shifted on her feet, “gotta get going. Got to do some touristy shit.” She turned on her heels and walked away briskly. 

“I’ll be seeing you,” he called back. And she balled her hands into two angry fists. 

And thought of all the ways she could make him suffer if he wanted to give her the chance. 

Chapter Text

Lia stood under a flickering street lamp on a misty afternoon, cigarette in between her lips and listlessly gazing into the abyss before her. The fog rolled through the empty street, slightly obstructing the bar resting across from her. It didn’t look like much–a moderate size wooden structure with the years of wear and tear scarred into its panels. Neon signs glowed fluorescent “Open” and “Beer” on the darkened windows, serving as the only indication of what lay in wait for her. A canopy of lush trees surrounded the nameless building, and it was flanked by a ramen stand and rusted bus stop. 

She ripped the cigarette from her mouth and exhaled black smoke that the mist immediately absorbed. The rest of the world around her was the kind of empty she only experienced in the vast wastelands of Makai. Abandoned. Frozen. Not even the trees seemed to move.  The sky was overcast with wild gray clouds humming overhead. Lia puffed on her cigarette, tightening her new leather jacket over her body to shield herself from the relentless wind- wind that carried the smell of freshly spilled blood. Somewhere, deep within the forest that surrounded the building, an entrance to demon world sparked as a daunting reminder of how thin the barrier was between living and dead. And the taste of the metallic air had rocks forming in her stomach that rooted her to the concrete sidewalk. 

She also realized pretty quickly she was overdressed for the occasion. In addition to the leather jacket, she adorned new black jeans and a skin tight tank with plunging neckline that had her push-up bra working overtime to give the illusion she had anything to offer in the chest area. She huffed and tossed her cigarette on the ground and stomped it with her ridiculously heeled boots which added six inches to her height. Kurama had made a snide comment as she left- do you think you can stand eight hours in those shoes ? 

You have no idea the tricks I can do in these shoes . 

This place, at best, was a dive. A dive that didn’t need a scantily clad former dancer, but probably–more likely–a hulking security guard. Whatever, you kicked many asses in stripper heels. She nodded to the voice in her head, and a rare smile graced her lips. Immediately crushed when some of those more unfortunate memories tried to seep through. 

A lump formed in her throat and

Tears welled in her eyes.

She thought of her time in the club and the dichotomy of freedom and captivity. There were plenty of good nights. Plenty of times she spun around that pole like she was magic. Her hair whipping through the air, catching the light in just such a way it looked like a raging waterfall at night. The music vibrating against her skin, the smells of vanilla and cinnamon, and gold. Everything was pink and gold and glimmered like stardust. Yes, when it was good, it was good.

But when it was bad…

Filthy men who can’t keep it in their pants always ruin everything, don’t they?

They do. 

She swallowed the lump and it crashed down into her rock filled stomach. Her eyes burned with more regrets she thought she buried along with the club she destroyed. Everything you touch …yeah, yeah, Lia sighed. 

She looked behind her. The forest shuddered under her glare–and for a moment she thought about bailing on everything. Running back to Makai. James would certainly take her in with only half the passive lecture as she already endured with Kurama. Of course, then she’d have to deal with Shishi’s mockery and Misuki’s pity. Suzuki at least has the decency to pretend she didn’t exist. But then, of course, there was the other thing she couldn’t bring herself to think about. And that was heavier than any other wrathful memories.

She chucked her cigarette. Fuck it, right.  No more stalling. Confidently, she stalked across the street and into the bar, swinging the glass door open with more force than she intended as the wind tried to push the door back- like a warning. The smell got her first. Old liquor. Bleach. Mildew. She scrunched her nose in disgust and scanned along the walls. Cracked gray walls littered with old posters from acts long past. Some light fixtures, half of them currently illuminated. The place was a decent size for a small bar in the middle of nowhere- could maybe fit 75 people comfortably, she thought. The actual bar was the furthest from the door, stacked with liquor from wall to wall. Wooden stools lined in front of the pine. There were two large rectangle tables with additional stools for more seating and on the far left, a small stage. Get a pole over there and maybe you can showcase some of your old tricks . 

“Maybe,” she mumbled back.

The clock over the bar read “It’s 5 O’Clock Somewhere.” Which elicited a small snicker from Lia. Despite the clock’s admission, it was still too early for any human to start drowning their sorrows on a weekday. She then caught her reflection in one of the rogue mirrors that spanned the bar. She flinched as if her visage wasn’t her own. She had done her makeup the same she used to at the club. Dark rimmed eyes that enhanced the ice blue of her irises, and winged them so they looked more menacing. She tried to add subtle foundation and blush to give her too-pale skin more life and completed the look with a wine colored lip that looked hazy and clashed with the yellow lights. She grimaced. She recalled loving this look at the time, but now…she felt like she wore someone else's skin over her own. And it didn’t fit. It tugged in all the wrong places and itched like a poorly crafted wool sweater. 

Rustling from behind a door that read “Employees only” in the far back snapped her out of her lamenting. A long string of “fucks” “shits” and “bastards” followed by a flustered man shambling out the door carrying a box rattling with beer bottles. He looked up at her, his brown eyes narrowed in an almost dangerous stare. His black hair was short but fell only slightly over his eyebrows, which were curved in confused aggression. She knew who he was before he emerged from the back room; even if he looked a bit older with lines of age dashing along his features. He seemed taller, and fit with his arm muscles flexing as he effortlessly held the box of filled beer. 

You’re drooling. She wasn’t but she dropped her eyes anyway. 

“Oh,” he said, relaxing a bit as he took a few seconds to eye up the woman standing in the center of his bar, but kept his spirit energy high on alert. “You must be Kurama’s friend?”

“I mean, I guess you could call me his friend,” she frowned, “My name is Lia.”

He nodded as he brought the box of bottles and placed it on the bar. “Lia, cool name. I’m Yusuke.”  He walked up to her and  extended his hand and it took three clicks of the clock to register the gesture. She cautiously took it, feeling the callouses from one too many battles as she shook it almost weakly. 

She didn’t need his introduction. His reputation proceeded himself, for sure. Everyone in Makai with a pulse knew of Yusuke Urameshi–the human boy who went  toe-to-toe with some of the worst demon world had to offer and won. Even with his defeat against Yomi, he still left the Makai tournament stronger than most. Larger than life. She, like everyone else, thought he would for sure win the next time the tournament rolled around—then he didn’t. And he left and faded from the public eye once the barrier went back up. 

Lia didn’t expect to find him in this shit-hole at the ripe age of twenty-four. But, then again, she didn’t expect she’d be here either. 

Yusuke gestured for them to take a seat at one of the tables. “So, gotta say, I’m pretty surprised to meet one of Kurama’s ‘friends.’ How do you two know each other?”

She toyed with one of her fake nails–another addition she couldn’t remember why she added in the first place–and shifted in her seat. She was unsure how much Kurama shared with the ex-spirit detective. She was even more unsure how to explain to Yusuke her relationship with the fox without giving too much away. “He…rescued my sister and I when I was a child.” She watched as Yusuke darted his eyes around as if attempting to do the Math. “Kurama was still Youko back then, if that helps.”

“Ah,” he nodded, but still knitted his brows as if the math eluded him. “So…where have you been for the last ten years?”

She clicked her tongue–had it really been that long since the thieving fox and fire demon breached Spirit World and stole the artifacts? Another rock formed in her stomach. “Oh, just in and out of Makai. You know, getting into trouble.”

He laughed, “Yeah, I know a little something about that.” She could feel his guard drop as he lowered his spirit energy. “Okay, so, the way I figure if Kurama vouches for you, you got the job. That guy never talks about his ‘friends’ so if he trusts you, so do I.”

That’s stupid . She wanted to verbalize the sentiment but replaced it with a soft smile. “I guess I can see the logic in that.”

“I just need to know two things: What does your bar experience look like and what...exactly are you?”

She forced a nervous laugh past clenched lips; it wasn’t like the question hadn’t been presented to her in the past. And not always from a potential friend. She could count on one hand the allies who have questioned her ‘type’- the rest never lived long enough for her to answer.  “Damn. A bit forward, no?”

“I’m not really into sugar coating.” His tone was playful, but she sensed an edge to his statement. Lurking underneath like a shark in the open sea.  

“I can respect that.” She ran her tongue across the back of her teeth to keep herself from answering immediately. She tapped the wooden table rhythmically as if waiting for him to continue. He arched an eyebrow, sitting up straight and crossing his arms over his chest. A smirk tugged at the side of his lips as he waited her out for a few more seconds. But if anything, Lia learned patience in her decades-long life. A strangled message echoing in the back of her mind: let them do all the talking. 

“I don’t know if anyone has told you, but you don’t give off any human or demon energy- nothing.”

“Aren’t some demons able to hide their demonic energy?” She countered. 

He thought for a moment, “Yeah, but only one off the top of my head could do it consistently. But when he’s around- which isn’t often- I can at least sense something , you know?” 

He didn’t have to say his name. She knew who he was referring to and she tried to hide the frown that threatened to pull at her fake smile. Even worse, she knew what he was feeling. He felt something alive. That breathes. Whose heart may not beat loudly,  but works much the same. 

Vacant. That’s what they felt when Ophelia appeared. Like all the air evaporated from the room. The empty feeling in one's chest when they feel an unknown force lurking in the shadows. The fight or flight instinct that crawls up one's spine with no clear reason for the appearance. And then. Nothing. Just a soulless vessel occupying a withering meatsuit that begs the question of what rather than who. She’s not a demon, they established that when she first entered Youko's camp. She certainly wasn’t human, which was confirmed when through fire and flames she rose from the dirt and ash sans a beating heart and warm flesh. She wondered for years if she was dead and this was her purgatory. But she felt too much too often. 

“Can I smoke in here?” She asked. Yusuke nodded, taking out his own pack of cigarettes and pushing one of the glass ashtrays in between them. She took a few puffs of the white stick, contemplating her next sentence. “Can I answer the first part of the question?”

“Shoot,” he took a drag with anticipation. 

“Kurama may have...misunderstood my bar experience. It happens when the information is coming from a third party source,” she started, bitterly, “But I know how to open a bottle of beer, smile at asshole customers, and mix a few cocktails.”

Yusuke shrugged with a nod, “Sounds about the description of the job. We got both demons and humans here- may not look like it, but this place can get busy.” 

“I’m a quick learner.” 

“And rowdy.” 

“I worked as an exotic dancer in West Bumblefuck, U.S.A– populated by a bunch of overcompensating assholes who felt their guns were an extension of their dicks.” She exhaled black smoke and noticed that Yusuke’s eyes lit up. 

“Ah!” he laughed, “I was wondering what the deal was with the heels. Did you double as a dominatrix?”

“Sometimes…You don’t know how many guys want their junk crushed under 900 dollar shoes.”

“Not my thing, but I don’t judge,” he snorted. “Okay, so you can handle yourself in rough situations. Now, about the second part of my question.”

 Lia sighed and leaned against the table like a petulant child with a groan. She batted her made-up eyes, trying to look as doe-like and innocent. “Does it matter what I am?”

“Honestly, probably not, but the fact you're so defensive about it got me thinking,” he pointed to his head, “And I don’t really think that often.”

Lia rolled her eyes. But she could understand the curiosity. Right now, his instinct warned him of a threat. But he can’t visualize the threat. The person sitting in front of him looked like a woman in her early twenties with blue eyes resembling the ice keeping his beer cold. She’s small, despite her ridiculous footwear, and petite. With a frame built for a runner as opposed to a fighter. Physically, she doesn’t seem like a threat.  But behind those eyes, he saw nothing. He felt even less. Instinct and logic tore through his head; and Yusuke was always one to follow the former rather than the latter. 

And while she understood his need to understand the being in front of him, her lineage was a sombering thought. “Honestly,” she said finally, with a voice etched with genuine uncertainty.  “I don’t know what I am. As far as I can tell, I am a demon. I have abilities that exceed human skill. I haven’t aged since I was twenty-five. But I am aware of the energy - or lack there of–I give off. But I can assure you I am hardly a threat; especially compared to someone like you.”

“Oh? What do you know about me?”  

“Word travels faster than you think in demon world,” she tapped her cigarette against the ashtray, “I’ve heard of the great Yusuke Urameshi. You’re the new bedtime story for tiny demons.”

She slowly brought her cigarette to her mouth, wrapping her lips around the stick like a suggestion. Her eyes twinkled with some breath of life. Flashing to a deeper blue that had Yusuke almost impressed. Her black hair was tied in a high ponytail, giving him a full view of the pale face with hidden scars which laid underneath like a roadmap of all her mistakes. And he could relate. The amount of times his mouth ran faster than his fist. Or he charged into a fight with half his brain ravaging like an animal, and the other half trying to find a center between beast and human. 

“You don’t get bonus points for flattery,” he said sharply, “I just want to make sure you’re not gonna turn heel and I’ll have to bury you in the backyard of this shithole.”

She unleashed an acerbic laugh through her exhale of black smoke that made her look like a demonic dragon. “I can’t promise I will stay buried for long.”

That got his attention. He sat up straight, eyebrow arched. But she couldn’t sense an ounce of defensiveness. Instead his frown curved into a smile. One that drips with acid and understanding? 

“Hm, that kinda sounds like a threat.” 

“Oh, never. I actually find dying quite cumbersome, and I do everything in my power to avoid it. You have nothing to worry about with me.” She crossed her heart with a Cheshire smile. “Besides, if I do end up causing too many problems for you, just send me back to Kurama. He knows how to handle the likes of me. I’ve been a thorn in his side for decades.”

Yusuke pondered her words for a few beats. Then, he leaned over the table, as if trying to close the distance between them to whisper a secret. She couldn’t sense his rising demon energy, the same way it would tickle another foe. She could feel the thickness in the air. Like two opposing magnets struggling to fit. That push and pull. Heavy like a hundred pound weights in her stomach.

 “Nah,” he said, crushing the cigarette in the ashtray. “I think I’d be fine handling you myself.”

She couldn’t tell if this was a threat, or a promise, or some dangerous way of flirting. But her heart seized for a moment and all the rocks in her stomach crumbled into glitter, and her cheeks burned, certainly amplifying the blush that decorated her skin. The fake smile faltered into something softer, simpler. And she darted her eyes to her cigarette resting loosely in her fingers. 

“Well then,” she extinguished the smoke next to Yusuke’s; both crumbled pieces fell into each other and buried themselves under the ash. “I do think this could be the beginning of a beautiful, strictly professional relationship.”

The rest of her time at the bar, Yusuke showed her around the place. Giving her the tour of the merchandise, the employee lounge– which was really just a glorified closet with back stock and a musty old chair with a pillow for frustrated screaming. The ramen stand, as she had suspected, did belong to the bar and Yusuke’s often did triple duty as bartender, ramen chef, and general manager. Oh, and security, of course. With the neutral zones garnering more popularity, the bar in the middle of oblivion saw more traffic and struggled with keeping quality employees. Lia didn’t think she matched the quality that would be expected, but at least she could open a few cold ones for patrons and relieve Yusuke of one of his many hats. And he seemed excited to finally have the help–so they agreed on her to start the following night. 

Lia returned to Kurama’s in the early evening hours, making sure to take the long way back instead of simply transmuting to the front door of his apartment–the looming shadow of Saburo hung heavy in Kurama’s conversation with her that morning before she embarked on her journey to the bar. And hidden between his words of concern for her well being, were warnings that if she would garner any more unwanted attention from the current Spirit Detective, there would be consequences. Lia, of course, wasn’t a fan of this. But on the bus and two train rides, she had enough time to think about her situation, and she certainly was in no position to go against the fox.

Two hours after she left Yusuke’s bar, she walked through the door. Kurama sat on the couch with a book and with a record playing soft classical music. He acknowledged her presence with a warm smile and a hello. Lia, grumbling her own responses, flopped on the couch and started to work on taking off her shoes.

“How did it go?” He inquired. 

“Great. Got the job, but I think you were right about the shoes.” She forced one boot off and chucked it towards the door. 

“You know I do hate to say I told you so.”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure you are devastated at always being correct.” She fought with the left foot and with a grunt and a pull, she freed her sore foot from its prison. Slouching on the couch she sighed and relaxed into the fabric. Her body ached from the travel more than she expected; and she wondered if this were the same body that traversed the length of Makai for decades. “We really should renegotiate the travel.”

“Oh? Was the public transportation difficult?” 

“No,” she huffed, not amused by his tone. “But two hours back and forth is a bit much. I could just go poof and end up there in no time.”

Kurama hummed in response; which she learned was his way of negating her idea immediately. “I think the time alone with your thoughts will do you some good.”

She gazed at the perfectly popcorn white ceiling above her. The setting sun casted shadows across the span of the bleak white sky which distorted her view. And she noted his words seemed so far away. They sounded like static from a TV screen stuck on the snowy channel. She knitted her brows together. The longer she stared, the more the shadows swirled. The further his voice drifted. Like an echo. Repeating the same series of words like the record stuck on repeat. And the shadows flickered and the perfectly popcorn white ceiling melted to sick yellow. 

She slowly sat up on the couch. Shaking the vibrations that crawled up her back.

“Are you okay?” Kurama asked, and she could see him from the corner of her eye turning the pages of his book.

“Yeah.” She tried to force a chuckle, “I think I’m tired.”

“Long day.” The pages continued to turn. “When was the last time you had a good night's sleep?”

“Been a while.” She tilted her head to the side, studying the living room. A red Japanese maple rested on the wooden coffee table alongside a couple of black books that seemed more for show than for reading. And beyond the table was an entertainment system with a modest television and two standing lamps framing it. In the reflection of the T.V, she saw the silhouette of her and Kurama sitting on the couch. The record continued to play. The music wafted quietly throughout the apartment. 

A wave swelled in her stomach. 

“You should get some sleep.”

“Yeah…maybe.”

Her eyes locked onto the cable box next to the TV. The red numbers glared back. 

Lia’s heart dropped to her chest. And she inhaled cold, stale, air and exhaled frost from between her lips. The numbers flickered–except they weren’t numbers. She narrowed her eyes trying to focus on the blurry red lines. Trying to force them into digits and not just distorted symbols her brain struggled to understand. 

Her muscles turned to stone. 

She tried to reach for the rubber band she used to keep on her wrist. But her fingers, instead, made contact with skin. And she closed her eyes—that’s right, the rubber band was gone. She hadn’t registered its absence as her mind continued to try to place the pieces of herself back together. 

When she opened her eyes, she stared into the darkness of the TV where only her shadow remained. And yet, she felt the couch dip next to her. She could still hear the rhythmic turning of pages and static words that sounded buried under snow. But she didn’t dare turn–because she knew, in the hole in her chest and the pit in her stomach, that Kurama was not there. He never was.

She closed her eyes tightly until they hurt. And tried to count backwards from ten, but the music–the shrill violins and accompanying distorted keys from the piano–pierced through her brain and cracked her concentration. She counted through her breaths instead. Slow and shallow. And out of rhythm from her heart that rumbled–not beating–in her chest. 

The weight of the couch shifted. She felt the brush of skin against hers. And breath against her ear–sharp like razor blades. You can’t run-

Lia sprung from the couch and jumped back several feet until her body hit the island in the kitchen. A navy blue hue drenched the room…distorting the image. It looked like a painting. Something false. Drawn up from a child’s memory and left to rot in the sun. And she thought if he reached out, she would be absorbed by the unnatural mural before her. 

She tried to catch her frantic breath, swallowing the pins and needles that formed in her throat. “I’m in a nightmare,” she announces, “I’m sleeping, that’s it.” But her voice doesn’t sound like hers. It’s warped and deep like the coldest parts of the ocean. Nothing feels like her . Her skin was a clay recreation. Her soul barely latching on to her chest—almost like every breath she took, she felt herself falling further away. 

And if she let go…she thought…she would never come back.

Her legs finally moved. Shuffling against the wood floor, she tried to make her way to her room. She hoped, like all the times before, she would find herself laying in the bed–tossing and turning–and force her soul back into her body. She shambled down the hallway, eyes tunneled around her feet, avoiding the images in the photos that lined Kurama’s walls. She could feel their wrathful gaze pushing into her. The pressure like a boulder on her chest. She counted the steps to get to her room–she tried to imagine the door in front of her. The cold metal of the knob. The click from the twist breaking the dense silence that permeated around her. She tried to imagine, pushing the door open. She tried to envision herself. Alive…

Wetness startled her. And she snapped her eyes to the origin. A black puddle seeped from underneath the door leading to the bathroom, and in the darkness of the hallway looked like an obsidian vortex eating away at the floor. Slowly, she brought her eyes to the gold knob, chipped from years of use. She wrapped her fingers around it–a voice calling from the abyss whispered but she couldn’t hear the words–and she pushed the door open.

The bathroom burst into stark white light that blinded Lia for a moment. And when she opened her eyes, she’s met with a bathroom that looked familiar. Familiar, but not the bathroom in Kurama’s apartment. Everything was porcelain. And the fluorescent lights overhead saturated the entire room into an ethereal glow that seemed to throb. She cautiously immersed herself into the room. 

White.

Too white. She thought.

Bleached and glimmering to a point that everything seemed to move, like tiny white spiders were crawling over everything. From the sink. To the mirror. The toilet and the tiled floor. And the tub.

She crawled her eyes up the length of the tub. And amongst all that white. Crisp. Perfect white. A tub filled with vermillion liquid. 

Lia gagged. The smell of death tickled her nose–sulfer and rotting, infected flesh.

The blood was still. Frozen, almost.

And in the pit of her stomach, crushing sadness bubbled up. She felt grief? Stabbing grief gripping her heart; strangling the organ. Her chest seized. A silent sob ripped through her body, trembling. 

And almost like compelled from another force. She bent over the bathtub, hovering her pale hand over the sea of red. 

And all she heard was her own breath. Cold and thick. And the sound of a faint cry from the pits of oblivion. The stillness of the scene coiled around her stomach…and then.

A hand jolted out of the bleeding water and gripped her wrist 

And without a moment to register the burning of her skin, the hand pulled her into the watery grave. 

She thrashed as water cascaded down her throat. She’s blinded by the deep, blood, darkness that overwhelms her. Still, she fought. Her arms and legs flayed and kicked and pushed trying to break through the surface. But it felt like a coffin. A tomb at the bottom of the sea and as vast. Hands grabbed at her. Tangled up in her hair, jerking her back and deeper into the ocean, and scratching at her arms and legs as they battled with the unseen enemies around her.

She willed her body and managed to grip the cold porcelain edge of the tub. And with all the strength left in her body, she hoisted herself up and over, despite the pressure of the other hands trying to pull her back. She toppled onto the floor. Squeaking and drenched in thick red blood, she backed up against the wall. Her entire body shook. Her voice a collection of shattered vowels with no air left to give them flight. Her chest frantically and desperately tried to catch breath, but all she tasted was metallic gore. 

She wanted to go home, and the thought repeated. But there was no home to run to. 

And from the depths of the blood red sea, a grotesque hand emerged and gripped the edge much like she had. Its hand was scorched black and leather with red pulsing veins revealing every part of its circulatory system. Impossibly long nails tapped the bathtub in a rhythmic beat that made Ophelia nauseous at the sound. A head covered in long black hair surfaced from the water. And behind the curtain of long greasy strands, an red rimmed yellow eye captured her in its gaze. 

Flames exploded from the creature.

Hot reds and oranges clutched onto the walls and floor with a howl. 

And the fire surged towards Ophelia. And dug into her blood soaked skin, and ate away at flesh and muscles and bone. 

And she tried to scream…

But nothing came out. 

Lia catapulted herself from the bed. She crashed to the floor with a force that shook the entire apartment. And frantically crawled into the corner as if the bed had been covered in the flames she so clearly remembered. And in her panicked chaos, she attacked her arm with her broken nails screaming to wake up wake up!

A sharp pain shot up her arm. And when she opened her eyes, she’d met with three bleeding scratch wounds right above her wrist. 

Tears stung her eyes as she greedily breathed in the fresh floral air. She wrapped the wound with the offending hand and brought her arms to her chest as soft cries shuddered from her throat. 

Unconsciously, she cried first for Kurama, but remembered he wasn’t home. He had left that morning to visit some friends for a few days…and his absence–one she had begged for previously–was almost too heavy for her to accept.

Then, she cried for her sister, and pulled her knees up like she did as a child. And she prayed for Kira to come to her. To heal her wounds and hold her tight while she chased away the nightmares.

And then when the memory of her death stabbed her again, she hopelessly cried for her partner. Her mate. Who abandoned her so long again. And through fractured apologies, she thought he had heard her. She smelled the warm flame and then…coldness.

She peered through her long black hair. The room was drenched in a twilight darkness as the sun begged to cut through the moon’s night. And she realized how utterly alone she truly was.

She closed her eyes again and wished to go home. 

A home that never existed. 

Chapter Text

One morning, a large potted plant appeared against the wall between Lia and Kurama’s bedrooms as a bundle of pump green leaves like a short stout grandmother in a skirt with brown skeletal arms holding cascading waterfalls of blue bulbs. Lia knitted her brows as she stared at the newest addition to Kurama’s collection. It was encroaching and egregious in size, taking up the entire span of the wall with more room to grow. At this point, the floral smell blended into one cornucopia of putrid tickles of pink, to Lia, so she couldn’t decide if this new roommate smelled good or bad. It was just there. 

Her arms, crossed tightly over chest, flinched as she studied it.

“Do you like it?” Kurama stood next to her. He wore pleated brown pants and a white button down shirt tucked in neatly into the waistband. Both hands casually in his pockets. He looked like the associate university professor he was, and she hated him for it for reasons she couldn’t articulate. 

“They look familiar,” She responded blankly. 

“They should. They used to grow in the village…”

The air withered around her at the mention of their former home–and she could even feel his shoulders deflate as the word fell from his lips. She remembered these blue bell-like flowers creeping up the houses around the village, emerging from long green tightly packed petals, and tied to vines that wrapped around the structures like beautiful cerulean spider webs. 

“Right…Uh, they were called…yume-wana?” 

“Dream snares.” He dropped his eyes to her and smiled. “They are supposed to catch nightmares.”

Her eye twitched and her whole body shrunk as if she was trying to collapse into herself like a black hole. “Oh…I see.”

They had appeared in the village a couple of years after her and her sister’s arrival, she remembered. Like many of the greenery, their birth went unnoticed by the masses, but largely accepted as they grew into adulthood. Every species of plant served a purpose in Kurama’s fort–some were soldiers, others sustenance, or medicine, or just pretty to look at. She didn’t know what the role these dream snares held at the time. 

But she figured they were worth something to Kurama. And she figured his journey to visit some “old friends” was an excuse to procure their new roommate, whose leaves swayed with no wind and pulsed with demonic energy.

“James sends his regards, by the way.” Kurama continued with his usual unintentional condescending cadence. 

And Lia wilted even more. “Oh. How…is he?”

“He’s great. He is quite amused about our current living situation–though he might be a bit jealous that you chose to stay with me and not him.” At this, Lia glared at Kurama, who just chuckled at her ire. “He does wish you would come visit. He misses you.”

“Yeah,” she grumbled. “I miss him, too.” The words soured on her tongue despite being the truth. Their last conversation was less a cordial exchange of opposing views, and more reminiscent of her petulant teenage years. Except, James was much younger back then; a young dog with the equivalent maturity of most twenty-year-olds and thrusted into an impossible situation. He often relented and gave her whatever nonsense she wanted just so she would stop the princess attitude she never earned, but felt she deserved back then. At the ripe age of two-hundred, however, James bit back. Often with a ferocity reminiscent of the fearsome Youko. Taught by the best, no doubt, and perhaps tired of Lia haunting his house with her gloom and excuses.

She no longer recalled the last fight. The words exchanged in anger. They were just shadows in her mind pantomiming distress and rage for rage sake. But if she put money on it, she was at fault. He was exhausted from having to constantly defend her only for her to return the favor with vicious arguments and nightmares. 

“And your friend, Mistuki, as well. She’s due any day it seems…”

Lia snapped her eyes shut, her nails digging through the fabric of the hoody adorning her body. Her heart shot into her throat and wedged itself there, suffocating her like a noose around her throat. Memories like bile threatened to erupt. And she tried to swallow them all down with the lump in her throat.

Mitsuki. Calling her a demon would be generous. She hailed from a land beyond the golden sea– a small island inhabited by mostly women. Hair the color of the sun and eyes like two beautiful gray stones formed from space dust. She was the last of her kind. Her people were hunted and exterminated by looters and traffickers from both sides of the filth coin, attracted by their rare beauty and competent healing capabilities. Her people had no other discernable skills or strength that could protect them from the inevitable destruction of their people. And eventually, their history faded into the sea that eventually swallowed their island. 

She had been taken in by Team Uraotogi to act as the nurse of the group, and despite her tragic upbringing, Mitsuki held within her a light that showered them all with warmth and kindness. Lia often felt jealous of Mistuki’s pureness, but loved her all the same; almost hoping that light would erase some of the darkness that lived so persistently within her. She loved her even when Suzuki got his hands on her first, and she could forgive her for choosing such a narcissistic mate. But she couldn’t forgive her for this . And Lia knew how selfish that made her.

Kurama, as if sensing the turmoil in Lia, placed a comforting hand on her shoulder; much like an older brother would. And the gesture, though shocking, soothed the knot in her throat and it fell away like ribbons in the air. And she breathed. He didn’t say any more on the subject of her previous team members. Instead, he turned to walk away with one last message about leaving food for her.

“Do they work?” She asked quickly, opening her eyes. “Do they really prevent nightmares?”

Kurama paused and studied the girl in front of him listlessly gazing at the plant. He forced a soft smile and nodded, “I think so… never had problems in the village.”

She hoped he was right. She desperately eluded sleep after her first night alone for fear the nightmarish beast would appear again and drag her back into its blood filled tomb. To make her conscious for work, she drank copious amounts of coffee and sucked down packs of cigarettes to keep her alert during her shift. Jittery and just slightly twitchier than normal, after they closed down for the night, Lia would lurk in the shadows of any open (or closed) liquor store. Blending into the darkness, she stole whatever clear liquid in her reach. On the way home, she consumed most of the bottle, stumbling into Kurama’s apartment and collapsing wherever her body gave up. And crumbled on the floor, or the couch, or the bed if she were lucky, she welcomed the pure, untouched, black out. The only time her nightmares were silenced. She never needed much sleep to function, thankfully, but the lack of it paired with the hangover drained her power quicker. And she felt weak standing behind the bar for hours; like she could hear her bones rattling within her, threatening to shatter into dust.

She didn’t know how much longer she could keep up that momentum. Though if Yusuke noticed her jerky nature, he never let on–or just assumed she was constantly on edge. 

For her shift, she decided to forgo the six of coffees, and cut it down to at least four to make it through until her body could fall upon her bed and test Kurama’s theory with the dream snares outside her room. Resting her elbow on the pine, she leaned over with a bored expression as one of the bar fly regulars littered her ears with tales of grandeur. After her interview, she forwent the makeup and gathered her hair in a high messy bun to keep it out of her face. And she kept forgetting that tipping wasn't a thing in Japan, so her fake interest wouldn’t help line her pockets. She barely listened. Watching more at the way his thin lips curve along his words. The occasional toothy smile. She wondered how anyone could be satisfied with that mouth and the shit that drips from it like the leaky faucet in the bathroom of her old job.

Drip

Drip

Drip

She recalled when the water changed from brown to red. 

And how it signaled her time was up. 

How long before history repeated itself-

And she’s the cause. 

She jumped when he made the mistake of reaching over, running his dirty fingers along her arm. His eyes twinkled with anticipation when he felt her skin. And he looked just like every other man who made that same mistake. 

She thought about all the terrible things she used to do to men like that. And a satisfied smirk stitched along her porcelain face when the vile creature recoiled as if burned. 

Jumped from his seat.

Stumbled back and tripped over another guest. 

His eyes no longer smile.

Terrified. 

She always enjoyed that look better. 

He managed to pick himself up long enough to sprint from the bar- leaving behind his credit card. And Lia was about to charge his card with the extra ten percent for abandoning his tab, when Yusuke appeared next to her. Eyebrows creased with suspicion as those chocolate browns bore into her. She pretended to do her job, punching in numbers into the cash register, while humming the tune she put on the jukebox. 

“What was that about?” he inquired. 

“What do you mean?” She countered immediately. His rough sigh became a staple since she joined the bar a week ago. 

“He’s the third regular I’ve seen run outta here like a bat outta hell since you started.”

Lia playfully danced her blue eyes towards him, “Oh? I hadn’t noticed.” She completed the transaction and pocketed an extra 1000 yen; slipping the bill into her bra and trying to ignore the accusatory look plastered upon Yusuke’s face. His arms now crossed over his chest as he waits for her to offer him some kind of explanation. She shrugged, “What? He told me to take a little extra for my company?”

“Did he now?” he looks back to the door; the clear glass showing only the vacant parking lot. “He left pretty quick.”

“Got too drunk too fast? Maybe I’m a little heavy handed with the liquor.”

“You know, we can’t really make money if the regulars won’t even show up.”

Three men in seven days was a bit high...But she shrugged and offered him nothing else, much to his chagrin, and went back to her work–cleaning up after drunk patrons and exchanging their money for drinks. The job was easy–easier than her other lines of work, at least–but boring. Sure, there had been some rough housing from the customers–humans and demons alike–but Yusuke usually broke them up and kicked out the offending party before Lia had a chance to even care. She found herself wishing one of those brutish men would engage her in some kind of altercation, so she could do more than just ruin their day with some images burned into their brain– child’s play. She craved something that had no name. Hungered for action in the form of destruction. Tired of wreaking havoc on her own body for the last almost decade– been there done tha t–she longed for something more. 

And she knew that something didn’t exist in the four walls of this dilapidated building that reeked of stale alcohol, cigarettes, and sweat, but for now it would have to do.

Yusuke usually lurked around like a phantom; moving between the ramen stand and the backroom. However, after her encounter with her most recent “victim”, he stayed behind the bar serving the three patrons on the right side, while Lia dealt with Gorou—a moth-type youkai with long blonde hair, two horns protruding from his head, and a shit attitude. He usually didn’t bother her too much, as long as she kept his drink full and any other demon far away from him. That day, he seemed more subdued, grumbling into his pint glass about law and order in this new world. She paid him little mind and returned to leaning against the bar with her fist on her chin, gazing out the darkening windows. 

She hardly acknowledged the creak from the door, nor the demon who entered and took a seat in front of Yusuke.

“Oz, man,” Yusuke exclaimed, “Where the hell ya been?”

Lia darted her eyes towards the pair. The Oz in question looked unassuming on the outside; average height with short greying hair and wearing the crisp uniform of a transit attendant. However, underneath the illusion, she saw a crimson-skinned demon with pointed ears and black eyes rimmed with red around the iris. Demonic energy pulsed from him, but it tasted more like dull ash from a waning fire instead of throbbing like a rumbling volcano. She deduced he was one of the weaker demons who were granted asylum from demon world.

“Moving,” Oz murmured, his voice hallowed and exhausted. “Or, trying to at least.”

“Moving?” Yusuke slid a beer into the waiting hands of Oz. “I thought you guys settled in Izumi-ku?”

Lia’s eyes lit up. The familiar name wiggled through her ears and the image of her apartment, a graveyard of broken steel and glass, flashed in her mind.. But she kept still; frozen like an unassuming lake in the middle of winter. She hadn’t tried to set foot back in Izumi-ku since her run in with Saburo, mostly due to Kurama’s urging (or subtle threats). Not like she lived there long; or lived there at all. The term would be generous. She knew there were a mix of humans and demons roaming just outside the window of the old woman’s apartment. The old woman who died before she even set foot in there–in case anyone asks. 

She shifted and tried to make herself smaller so the men around her could speak freely. 

“We were, but it’s turned into a dead zone, now.”

Yusuke scoffed. “The hell’s a deadzone?”

“It’s an area that’s been sucked out of all its energy. Demon and spirit energy no longer works. I was nearly clocked leaving my place the other day.” He shook his head, “We’re looking around for another place. The wife doesn’t like us being so vulnerable. We considered returning to Makai, but…the kids like school, and we just want to lead a calm life here.”

“Psh, weaklings,” Gorou hissed, “Cowards. What happened to our kind? No longer can stand to live in Demon World because you’re scared for your precious little children. Hmph.”

“Uh, Gorou,” Yusuke snapped, “Don’t you live here?”

“Yeah!” he slammed his fist on the bar, “But that’s only because Yomi will kill me if I set foot back in Makai!”

Yusuke waved him off and returned his focus to Oz. “Anyway, that sucks, man. Any luck on house hunting?”

“No. I even tried going through the Demon Resettlement Bureau, but they have a back log. My wife is getting antsy though…she’s worried about the monsters.”

“Monsters?”

Oz nodded grimly. “I never saw them myself–never been in a dead zone before–but I heard rumors. There are places all over both worlds that are complete voids, lacking any type of psychic energy. And within those worlds live monsters that…make youkai like you or Youko Kurama look like school children.”

Yusuke grumbled at the comparison. “I never heard of these ‘dead zones’.”

“They are rare. Or sometimes small, so you hardly notice you are in one until it’s too late. But I’ve heard stories from youkai who stumbled upon them in Makai. The beasts who roam those areas are not like us or humans. They are something different. Something worse. And without our abilities, we are sitting ducks. ”

Gorou’s raucous laugh shattered through the conversation. “He’s full of it. Just a scared little illusion-spirit losing his mojo, I say. No such thing as dead zones , or whatever you call ‘em. I’ve lived three hundred years and never saw one for real!”

“But you heard of them?” Yusuke arched a brow, two seconds away from cutting off the moth-youkai based on the grimace he shot Lia. 

He took a dramatic sip before slamming the glass on the counter. “Maybe…through the rumor mill. Lotsa small time demons ranting and raving ‘bout losing half their clan to monsters and having no way of defending themselves. It’s horse-dribble. Excuses for why we’ve become a generation of wimps. Ain’t nothin’ that can kill a true demon.”

“Except…other, more powerful, demons?” Yusuke reminded him with a smirk.

Gorou thankfully grumbled curses into his drink instead of continuing to antagonize the owner of the establishment. Yusuke still threw Lia a look to make this pint the last and returned serving Oz a shot–one on the house that the illusion-youkai graciously took with a wavering smile. 

“Even if there aren’t any monsters,” Oz thoughtfully considered, “I don’t like being powerless. Not in this world. Not in any.”

Lia agreed silently. 

However, this wasn’t the first time she heard about a dead zone. Or the monsters who lurked within them. And she knew they weren’t just rumors. 

Yusuke cut her loose early due to lack of foot traffic. She didn’t complain. She had already been making plans to make a quick detour to Izumi-ku against Kurama’s wishes–though what he didn’t know wouldn’t kill her. But she needed to check on her former ward and confirm Oz’s proclamation that the whole area had been reduced to a dead zone. And if true, then monsters would certainly follow. And guilt gripped at her chest at the thought.

The city still breathed with some life despite the moon hanging ominous overhead. The sky sprinkled with glimmering stars offered some additional light along the artificial glow from street lamps and cars. She blended in with the shadows, using her ability to morph into a black spectre and crawled against walls, and fences, and concrete–any area touched by darkness–in an effort to further elude any rogue spirit detectives who might be lurking. In this form, she moved like liquid and camouflaged by the growing night. 

Until she wasn’t.

With a jolt-as if someone or something pushed her from behind-she flew from the shadows and onto the sidewalk with a loud thump and returned to her physical form. She grumbled in frustration and picked herself up. She dusted herself off and snapped her eyes around for the culprit, only to be met with the tired scene of her old apartment complex. 

She pursed her lips and cocked her head to the side. The yellow caution tape still surrounded the area. Within there, the shattered remains of steel, reinforced concrete, glass and dirt from the ground below. Other than that, no other evidence survived the fire. She ducked under the tape, her boot crunching against glass and rocks and pulled out the flashlight she stole from the bar. The orange light struggled to offer any guidance, but still she dragged it along the carcass of her forming living quarters, unsure what exactly she desired to find. 

Monsters? 

You’re the only monster here.

That’s true, she acknowledged to herself. 

Purpose? Perhaps. She tried to recall what brought her to Izumi-ku originally as she traversed the ruins. Her memory, like a puzzle, still missed notable pieces, so she crept through the darkness of her mind for some glimmer of light. She thought about eight years ago, when her life started to fall into place. Each brick coming together and forming the home they would share overlooking the canal and the bright lights of the city. Warmth wrapped around her like the blanket from a grandmother who never existed–and just as fleeting. 

That certainly didn’t work and she returned to Makai. She played house with James and her friends for three years. Training for a tournament she never wanted to fight in; fucking the only one who gave her a second glance as if it filled the void in her chest at his sudden and very typical absence. And when that black hole became too difficult to manage, she ran back to human world as if called by some unknown force. And she surfed through hotels and motels and random homes for five whole years. Five whole years of absolutely nothing . Except more tar on her lungs and vodka colding her mind. 

She came upon the apartment in Izumki, smelling death drip from its walls. And crawled through the shadows and came upon the apartment of an old woman fused to her chair. A cigarette in one hand and a glass of alcohol swarming with flies on the table next to her. The blue static of the T.V glowed against her decaying white skin. Mouth slightly opened with maggots falling from her reddened lips like all the tiny secrets she died with. She looked to be Ophelia’s true age–a thought that curdled in her stomach like spoiled milk–and just as alone. She rummaged through the apartment for any photos of family, or friends, or even long forgotten co-workers. She met layers of dust, and spiders, and a life of loneliness and regret. The woman didn’t even have a name she could find. She was no one. A nanashi . A nothing. Lia managed to dislodge her from the chair; skin and fabric fused together in one last embrace. After she buried her under the floorboards, she murmured a prayer she heard once when she lived in the states because it was the only one she remembered, and figured the woman deserved that much.

Lia’s flashlight flickered against a pipe jutted out from the ground. Rusted and covered in grease, it seemed to whine as the light grazed against it. 

Must be a basement down there, you think? 

She hadn’t explored too much of the apartment. She spent her days sleeping on the bedroom floor because the collapsed mattress in the corner of the room had been covered in brown liquid and reeked of ammonia that burned the back of her throat. At night, she perched on the sill with the window open, taking turns between puffs of cigarettes and sips of a bottle of whiskey, working through what had been left of the woman’s stash–Lia’s inheritance. She would gaze out towards the apartment across from hers. Red bricked and fresh, but still with the same type of wraiths who haunted the halls: the single mom with two kids, the university boy cramming for finals, a married man with extracurriculars after his wife went to work her night shift. Another old woman staring into the blue static abyss, an elderly couple who wished their grandkids would visit more, and the young girls putting on makeup for a night out. Their youth dripped from their gorgeous smiles as they painted their faces; filled with life, filled with anticipation.

Ophelia watched them all–her favorite program. She jumped into their heads uninvited. She experienced their hope, their pain, their anger, their lust. She lived vicariously through them because living with herself made her sick. Each sip of whiskey made her sicker. Made her hateful. Sometimes she would twist their minds. Burn images into their heads just to be spiteful. She watched them scramble from their seats with shock. Scream at ghosts in their closets. Slam books shut when the words contorted, and walls dripped with blood. 

And as the nights waned on, a voice from within the dark abyss of her mind would echo across centuries. Across planes of reality. Across the universe. And it would whisper a demand. One singular expectation. To just do it . 

She swallowed the dryness in her mouth, and pulled back the sleeve of her leather jacket. Her wrist still throbbed with three parallel scratches from her nightmarish encounter. And for a second, the scene flashed–and she was in the copper bathtub watching the blood rush into the water. 

Could it have been the last part of her prophecy finally came to fruition? She always felt so foolish telling him about those nightmares, as if they had been a secret she never was supposed to share. Then, the first two came true for her and in its wake, came a wall of flame and rivers of blood. And Bodies. 

If these were her nightmares coming true, now what?

Was it a warning? 

Or a promise?

It depends on which side of the mirror you’re looking at…

“That tells me nothing,” she countered to the brisk night air. And a phantom cackle responded. 

A crack of glass exploded through the empty night. And Lia swung around in time for the bright light of a better working flashlight to blind her for a moment. And in a second she expected Saburo’s slimy voice to snicker through the air; and she anticipated the interrogation under the weight of her lack of abilities. 

“Lia?” A calmer voice touched with gravel met her ears–and it was familiar for different reasons. 

She opened her eyes. He wore a hoody underneath the same denim jacket he wore daily and a baseball cap as if he too tried to blend in with the shadows. He stood tall with a confused expression etched across his face as he scanned the length of the woman he stumbled upon in the dead of night, in a land that tasted like death and flame. 

And Lia didn’t know which was worse: Saburo or.. “Y…Yusuke?”

Chapter Text

Hiei once told Lia, she lacked any foresight and ran into battle recklessly–as if a death wish begged with every punch or kick. She shot first and asked questions later to detached ears expecting answers from toothless mouths, and would get pissed when she received no answer. He told her it would be the death of her–and in many ways, much to her chagrin, he was right. And as she stood under the moonless sky, drenched in an interrogation light, she lamented those words. 

“Y…Yusuke…” She stumbled over his name as if rocks had filled her throat. Of all the events to expect, she expected Yusuke’s arrival the least. In her journey, she never gave him a second thought–never assumed the mention of monsters laying in the rubble of a mysterious fire would peak the attention of the former Spirit Detective.  And he never gave her the impression, as she exited the bar after her shift, that Oz’s story had been nothing more than a passing conversation between two acquaintances. “What are you doing here?”

He arched a brow, and she watched as his eyes darted along her features–and she felt invaded by his lingering stare as if he were picking apart every subtle twitch of her lip and the grip on her own weak flashlight. . “...Lia? What are you doing here?”

“ No,” she huffed, “What are you doing here?”

At this, Yusuke frowned. “....W-What are you doing here?”

Are you two really doing this? “I asked you first!”

“Yeah well…I’m your boss, so-”

“Ew, no.” She recoiled,  “You’re not the boss of me outside of the bar!”

A thick pause spread between them as they stared at each other waiting for the other to falter. The pit in her stomach swelled as if pulling her to act. She thought about running in order to escape whatever interrogation would follow Yusuke’s well placed explanation. But that would beg more questions than answers. Why are you running ? Fuck if she knew half the time. Running was the next best thing behind attacking…and she wasn’t about to go toe-to-toe with an S Class demon–even if his powers seemed dormant  at the moment. 

She figured she could out silence him–her third most effective option. And Yusuke finally relented. “Oz seemed shaken up,” he gestured his light towards the building standing behind Lia, “ He lives right there.  I wanted to check out the area…see if there were monsters.”

“Makes sense…” It sounded so juvenile in a way. Like a child looking for imaginary monsters under his bed with curiosity rather than fear. But she accepted the response–she didn’t know Yusuke, but from the brief anecdotes she heard from third parties he would be lured by the promise of a fight. And he knew Oz well enough to know where he lived. The pit in her stomach shrunk–somehow knowing he didn’t follow her made her feel safer. 

“Well,” he moved the flashlight onto her. “Your turn.”

She could hear the echo of her sister’s voice scolding her for exposing all her emotions on her face. So, she kept still. Her face stone; yet hoped the shadows gathered across her features from his flashlight wouldn’t give her away. Lia didn’t have a good excuse in her pocket. Another thing Hiei criticized her for–she was a terrible liar.  “I…too…was curious about these monsters.” She grumbled. “Thought I’d check it out.”

“Uh-huh.” Uncertainty dripped from his tone. His glare pressed into her as if looking for cracks in her carelessly placed excuse. “How’d you know to look ‘round here? Izumi-ku isn’t small…”

‘Fuck’ rang through her head–and she hoped he wasn’t a telepath–yet she shrugged non-chanlatently, “Uh, a mysterious fire takes out the whole apartment? No known survivors and yet no bodies found. Seemed like a good place to start.”

Yusuke blessed her with a shorter pause, dropping the light from her form and shrugging back. “Sounds legit.” And though that didn’t sound all too convincing, Lia took this as a gift and exhaled. 

“So,” he continued, “Oz said the whole area is a ‘dead zone’. But how do you know you’re actually in one?”

Lia could still smell the stench of his demon energy–hot like lava and radiated off him–but she learned early on that even in Dead Zones, she could tell the difference between the lightning of Spirit Energy and the Fire dripping from Demons, but it’s locked away. Trapped in a dome. And she didn’t know if she should answer his question and give away even more information, or perform the role of the dumb girl the world wanted her to play. 

“I guess,” she kept her breath even, watching him as he walked in a circle that seemed to approach her, and also moving cautiously through the ruins as if trying to avoid his advancement. Like two rogue planets orbiting each other. “Check to see if you can use power?”

Yusuke paused and considered her words. With his right hand, he extended his finger as if preparing for a spirit gun …and waited for…nothing. He stared intently at his finger as if willing the blue lightning to crackle around the tip of his finger, narrowing his eyes with intention. Silence followed. He dropped his hand away as if his limb was no longer his. His eyebrows creased with confusion and concern. “That’s…uh. Never happened before.”

“That’s what they all say,” Lia winked, but Yusuke just shot her a glare. She shrugged him off, and continued her search of the land. “Don’t worry, big guy, I can’t use my abilities either.”

“Oh yeah? You never really mentioned what those ‘abilities’ are?”

“Guess you’re just gonna have to wait to find out-” She stopped suddenly, capturing his attention. She stared off into the distance, beyond the darkened apartment complex, towards the glittering street lights that lined the canal in the distance. Despite the late hour, cars still passed through the street–infrequently, but she caught one illuminated by the artificial light. And she noticed no sound emitted from it as it flew by. And all at once she noticed the deep absence of sound. Like a void. She watched the wind move the leaves, but couldn’t hear them whisper. The chips from bugs and the long drawl of a cricket were missed. It was like a throbbing emptiness surrounded them. The darkness even felt thick, and murky, like a swamp in the middle of summer. But a frigid chill ran down her spine. 

“Lia?” Yusuke’s voice sounded far away, but when she turned he stood next to her, perplexed. 

“You hear that?” She whispered as if this were a secret she needed to keep. 

He took a moment. His rich brown eyes assessed the area, and she watched as the crease in his eyebrows grew as he took in the vast emptiness around them. The absence of life in this one slice of reality, when just beyond the deep darkness, the world kept moving. 

“Heh,” his chuckle seemed tethered to worry; his lips twitching into an uncertain smile. “I guess this is the dead zone then.”

“Aptly named,” she agreed.

“Alight, so,” he ran the light of his flashlight along the ruins, “Where are these so-called monsters?”

Where you buried all your secrets. Lia turned to hide the twitch in her eye and walked along the gravel and earth away from the lights of the city.  She acted as if searching for the mysterious rumored monsters, but instead, tried to will the voice echoing through her head like a ricocheting bullet to give her more information. It laughed. A razor sharp cackle that throbbed against the inside of her ears and hit her with a wave of nausea. As above, so below.

Lia paused. 

She could hear Yusuke’s footsteps behind her; casual with a hint of suspicion in his long strides. She could taste his distrust despite the emptiness permeating around her. He shunned the light on her and she winced at the intrusion, but didn’t move right away. Instead, she cast her own light at the iron pipe she noticed before, sticking out of the ground. It rattled. The only muffled noise in the abyss. Cautiously, she approached it–only slightly acknowledging Yusuke’s inquiry– and bent down. It was caked in rust. Rotted to the core as if life had been stripped from it. This building wasn’t particularly new, by any means, even before it burned to the ground, but the pipe looked as if it would burst into copper dust if touched. A long whine groaned through the iron. Except. She put her ear towards the opening…

“The fuck you doing?” Yusuke snapped, “Trying to get tetanus or something?”

“Do you hear that?”

Sound throbbed like vibrations across her skin. In there, distant echoes of moans seeping in from the opening of the pipe. 

“No,” he grumbled, “What is it?”

“There’s something down there.” She jumped up. “In the basement. Maybe the fire hadn’t reached that far…I hear…moaning.”

Yusuke stood in front of the pipe, shining his light down the opening, only to be met with blackness. “Could someone be down there?”

“Maybe. It’s worth checking out, just in case.”

“Got a shovel?” 

She gestured towards the still intact apartment complex. “Basements aren’t common around here, but maybe there’s an entrance in there. You know, so workers could move between both apartments?”

“You think?”

You know. But she wasn’t about to tell him that. When she first took up residence in the apartment currently under her feet, she made sure to investigate every corner for anything that could be a proven threat to her safety. All she found were weary families, elderly couples, a few low-class youkai who barely pinged on the demon scale, and the basement. The basement with a labyrinth of tunnels that lead to dead-end storage and the intact complex. And while Yusuke didn’t look like a threat, even under the obsidian darkness hovering over them, she thought revealing the truth would give him more reason to distrust her…  “Unless you got a better idea?”

Yusuke didn’t; but he was completely unconvinced by her naive act and it was written all over his face. 

♠️

A code was required to get into the complex. And while this would have been proven to be child’s play for Lia, the invisible mist of the dead zone hung heavy over even the intact building. She spent a few moments grimacing at the keypad as if willing it to reveal the six-digit code, before Yusuke came up with another plan: just breaking in. And she was startled, yet intrigued, by how casually he dropped the idea—as if touched with an air for familiarity. She wanted to smile, but just shrugged with a morose expression on her face. The pair crouched before one of the small windows that led into the basement. It was fogged from the stale air and caked with rust color grime. 

Yusuke, ever the gentleman, volunteered to break the window. Lia didn’t argue–she decided letting him take the lead would give her the opportunity to blend into the shadows and keep her from revealing any potentially damning information. Though the damsel act was quickly becoming stale. Yusuke wrapped his arm around his jacket, took a breath, and slammed his elbow into the glass with one good hit. 

It cracked. But it didn't break.

“Oh come-on!” He shouted, to Lia’s hush.

“Don’t be so loud !” She scolded. 

“No one can hear me! We’re in a deadzone!”

“We don’t entirely know that to be true! Just because the sounds from the street are silent, doesn’t mean we are…”

“Ugh, fuck the rules of this place.” 

He shook off his initial failure and with another grunt he broke through the window. The sound of shattering glass did echo, but Lia noted it was muted. Almost like a whisper. Yusuke seemed unfazed by this, and used his wrapped arm to remove any jagged pieces left. 

“I’ll go in first,” she announced, already gripping the edge of the window.

“Age before beauty, right?” He snickered.

She paused— having him behind her could be risky. What if he decided her actions were too suspicious and decided to snap her neck? But she shelved the idea as quickly as it came–Yusuke, despite not knowing him well, didn’t seem like a coward. He would never attack from behind. Especially someone he knew. She took a breath and glided her body through the opening of the window, and fell a few feet into a, thankfully, clear ground. Dust erupted around her and she hacked away the thick asbestos cloud.

“You good down there?” Yusuke poked his head through the gap in the window. 

“Yeah, I’m alive.” She moved the flashlight along the walls. The basement was old and covered in cobwebs and layers of soot and dust. It was mostly empty, though a hum of a boiler system buzzed from a darkened corner.  A stale stench of mothballs mixed with sulfur wafted through the entirety of the room but seemed to be seeping in from the entrance of the connecting tunnel to her right. She moved towards it, giving Yusuke room to join her. Someone had installed a gate a long time ago; now claimed by rust and struggled to close all the way. It had been lost to time, abandoned, and left to rot with everything else around them.

“You were right about the tunnel.” Yusuke stood next to her with an arch to his brow. “Good call.”

“The sound I heard could have been an echo.” She avoided the question that hung at the end of his statement, and drew their focus to the task. “It could have came from anywhere. We have to be careful.”

“What do you think we’ll find down here?”

“I don’t know…maybe it’s just…someone who needs our help.”

“You don’t sound sure.”

A faded echo of memory slithered through her mind; stone walls caked in slime– no, not slime- shrouded in darkness, and the shadows of shambling figures moving along them like cave drawings. All of them, jaws slacked and calling out– no, not calling –in pain. She shoved it away. 

“Never encountered something like this. Can’t be sure of anything right?

Rhetorical question, and thankfully Yusuke didn’t answer. Together, they pulled open the gate–the whine sliced through the thick silence–and slid through the opening. The tunnel swallowed them; the only light emitted from their weakening flashlights that seemed to flicker once touched by the darkness around them. Their shoes crunched the dirt of an unfinished walkway; and for some reason, every echo caused Lia’s heart to jump. They didn’t share any observations. Just silent musing as they anticipated what they would find–Lia hoping she would be wrong. But the stone structure around them seemed too familiar…down to the caked on moisture dripping from cracks.  Eventually, two paths diverged. 

“Shit,” Yusuke cursed, “Which way?”

Lia shined her light down the left path–and she noticed some disturbances in the dust. Footsteps…larger than hers, but seemed to be close together. To her right, multiple footsteps, muddled together, and with longer strides. She tried to remember which would eventually lead to the burnt down apartment, but everything blurred together–her memories, the path, even the footprints.

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe we should split up?”

At this request, she recoiled, “No fucking way! That’s a stupid idea!”

“Hey! How’s it stupid? We’d cover more ground!”

“Haven’t you ever seen a horror movie before? That’s how people die.”

Yusuke rolled his eyes, “Horror movies aren’t real.”

“Says the demon.”

“Yes, demons are real, but not masked dudes hacking up camp counselors, or cannibals with chainsaws, or knives for hands who kill teenagers in their dreams.”

Lia quirked an eyebrow, “You can totally kill someone in their dreams.” Yusuke attempted to argue, but then closed his mouth—she could see him racking his brain if he ever encountered that ability before. But she continued–she didn’t want him to hurt himself. “Besides, you are limiting yourself with just slashers. What about ghosts, and ghouls, and vampires?”

“Vampires aren’t real!”

“Ever been to the American Southwest? They are everywhere .” Lia decided on the path to the left–the footprints seemed more familiar– and continued as she walked. “Horror is a black mirror; a representation of our vast societies. Many of those directors or authors are spiritually aware and can pick up on what lies beyond that mirror–what really lurks. And they pull out bits and pieces, just enough so it isn’t dangerous for the viewer, and gives us a glimpse into the other side. So yeah we might not have Freddy Krueger, per say, but there’s definitely a being that can hop into dreams and rip people from the inside out.” She tried to hide the gleeful tone in her voice, but it slipped between her teeth.

Yusuke didn’t respond immediately as he walked next to her down the tunnel, but when she threw him a cautious look, he seemed almost satisfied with her explanation. “Sounds like you know from experience.”

She’s about to counter with a snarky response, but the sound of flesh ripping apart sliced her off, followed by the munching of meat slapping against gums and the crushing of bones. They cautiously brought their flashlight up. Lia locked eyes with the head of a rat, slack jawed and eyes a ghastly white, hanging from the mouth of a human male as its body was repeatedly masticated between yellowed teeth. The lights illuminate the figure; the torn suit of a salary man hung haphazardly off its thin frame. Its skin, a hazy gray and white eyes hollow and ringed red. It twitched. Its own bones cracking with every move as it brought its horrid gaze to rest on the two.

And before Lia could gasp…

It rose to its feet with uncanny movements, like its limbs were disconnected from bone. And howled.

The sound shuddered through her body, and Lia took off running. “It’s a zombie, run!”

She looked back to see Yusuke freeze for a moment; and as if instinct took over, tried for his spirit gun. But thankfully, he snapped out of his daze, and ran after her. They sprinted towards the exit. The zombie behind them splintered and cracked with every movement, but sprinted with the speed of an average human. Lia strained. Begged her unused leg muscles to not give out on her now. Yusuke passed her, and barrelled through the gate, leaving it open for her to follow close behind. She skidded to a stop once on the other side,  and swung around it time to see the zombie advancing towards their position. Yusuke desperately tried pushing the rusted gate shut. The adrenaline, thankfully, still coursed through her body and she joined him. The gate resisted their strength at first. But then the whine of metal on concrete exhaled, and the gate slammed shut as the beast collided with the bars. 

Relief was momentary.

The beast trashed and flailed its long arms through the openings, and the gate shuddered in response–unable to be fully closed and locked. Yusuke and Lia kept their bodies crouched  against it to stop it from opening completely, their breaths rapid and sweat beading on their foreheads as they avoided its grasp. 

“Lia, can you find something to kill this thing!”

Lia hesitated, she wasn’t sure if losing her weight would make it easier for the beast to get through, but a stern look from Yusuke convinced her to move. She frantically searched the basement. The snarls from the creature numbed her thoughts as the sounds clamping teeth shot through her ears like the ringing after a gun shot. But through the noise, she could hear the metal desperate to give way and the grunts from Yusuke struggling to force it shut long enough for her to find something–anything.

She almost tripped over a rogue stone, but when she recovered, she caught the glint of an ax. And she smiled. She ran and yanked it off the wall. Gripping the handle with her hands, she appreciated the familiarity of the weapon–the way the smooth wood caressed her palms like a lover, the shine of the tip like a wink and the redness of the face. Like a blood coated grin.

Lia returned just as the beast made an anguished swipe for Yusuke’s hair. She lifted the weapon, to his wide eyes—and before Yusuke could utter a cautious wait, she brought the weapon down on the gray arm. It shattered immediately. Bone fragments jetted out of the wound. But it didn’t relent and continued thrashing, desperate for Yusuke. Then, she faced it. The creature's eyes were wild like an animal; hungry for something. Not food. Not pleasure. For a release. And she saw her wicked smile reflected in white irises. She brought the axe down—directly between the opening of the bars–and onto its head with a squelch.

Everything ceased. The creature went limp; its howl a mere echo through an empty tunnel. It took Lia three pulls to release the axe from its head, and it crumbled to the floor.

Yusuke and Lia stood next to each other, taking quick breaths as they stared at the dead human before them. 

“I fucking hate the fast ones,” she said, confidently, holding the ax to her side.

Yusuke nodded. “Yeah. Fuck ‘em.”

She looked at him, surprised, “You believe in zombies?”

“Yeah. I’ve fought zombie-like creatures before. If I fight it, I believe it..”

“Heh. I guess that makes sense.”

Another bout of silence gripped them as they took in the scene. And then she heard Yusuke chuckle, his hands on his hips shaking his head in disbelief. “What are the chances that it's the only one?” And there was a twang of disappointment in his tone. 

Against her will, she thought about the people who lived in her apartment complex. The families, the elderly, the university students looking for a future in the lines of a text book. And how their screams sounded when the flames touched their skin. Her chest twisted. Were they screams? Or were they howls? Moans? Throat scratched yells of something in between life or death? She hated her lack of memory. 

She hated the sound of several raspy snarls echoing from the tunnel; more. 

“Shit,” she gripped the ax. “I guess the answer is highly unlikely.”

The sound of pounding feet rattled the gate. And a new sensation warmed her skin. Anticipation? These weren’t people anymore. Their souls were trapped in gray husks, charging for them. And hasn’t it been so long since she indulged in violence? These weren’t people anymore. They were bloodied gums. Soiled grey skin. Infected with disease. No, they weren’t people, they were a potent virus. And the only thing standing in the way of them, and the supple flesh of humanity were Lia and Yusuke.

And we don’t like sharing.

“I guess punching them to death won’t cut it?” Yusuke vanished behind her, searching for something in the rubble around them. 

“Nah. Not these. These are classics.” Lia flicked her lips into a smirk as Yusuke reappeared while twisting a crowbar in his hand. 

“Can’t I have the ax?” He asked.

“No way. This baby and I are old friends.”

He swung the crowbar, getting used to the weight, and mirrored her smile. “Fine, fine. I never want to get in between two lovers.”

The horde came into view. Mangled messes of grey toppling over each other furiously, but maintaining their rapid pace. Cloudy eyes welled with hunger, their mouths wide–open–releasing guttural howls through sharped, bloodied, teeth. Their arms extended as they approached the pair staring at them through the rusted bars of a fragile barrier.

The hairs behind her neck rose with want. “Don’t forget, Yusuke.” She brought the ax over her chest,  “Aim for the head.”

Chapter Text

The last one who met the wrong end of Lia’s ax was a young girl–probably no older than Lia was when she first died. Her long black hair splashed across her gray, torn, face as she laid on the ground; black ooze leaking from the head wound. Lia noticed the ribbons of flesh dangling from her cheek and could see the back teeth from the hole around it. Her mouth hung open in mid growl; cut short by Lia’s ax to her forehead. She was still wearing the uniform for an ice cream shop; pink collared top and blue pants and a name tag covered in blood. And even in death, she looked more monster than human. Lia thought up a story for her. She worked at the local ice cream store during the day. She had a bright smile. And bright eyes. Full of life and promise. She was saving her money for a vacation to Hawaii with her boyfriend later that month. She had been excited. She told her friends she’d be away for two weeks. She thought he was going to propose. She imagined her life as a bride, as a mother, as the apple of her parent’s eyes.

None of that was true, of course. Lia had seen this girl once crying in the hallway; and when they made eye contact, she ducked into her apartment. She had a black eye. 

Lia felt bile rush in her throat and she swallowed it back. Swallowed it back with the wetness that brimmed her eyes. She tried to remember these were souls trapped in shells and she had freed them. 

Yusuke’s footsteps dragged her from her thoughts, and she quickly wiped away the tears before he could notice. He stood next to her, sans crowbar–now in the eye of male behind them–and covered in black blood. 

“I double checked them,” he started, out of breath, “Made sure they were all headshots.”

Lia nodded and turned to scan the bodies–about ten of them–sprawled along the crack concrete like a bloodied renaissance painting. And she noted, thankfully, no children. She didn’t know if she could have…taken out a child. 

“You think that’s it?” He continued, and Lia waved him off.

“Last time you said that, we got a horde.”

“Heh, that wasn’t a horde. That was a party.”

He wiped some blood from his forehead–and Lia couldn’t help but admire the twinkle of satisfaction in his bright brown eyes. He had abandoned his jacket and hoodie at some point during the fray; his white T-shirt now stained a murky black as were his jeans. But he looked unharmed otherwise. 

“You didn’t get bit, right?” She did ask, “You don’t want to be the guy who hides a bite.”

“Psh, I would never hide a bite. But no, I’m good. You?”

Lia still managed to fight with her leather jacket on–hoping the material would shield her from any potential rogue teeth or nails. “I’m good. You think demons can be turned into zombies? Never saw one, myself.”

“There’s a first time for anything. And while a zombie demon would be interesting to fight, I ain’t itching to find out.”

Both their eyes drift towards the, now, destroyed gate. Bent from the force of the horde–or party–and piled up with a few unlucky bodies that had failed the initial breech. Silence whispered through the empty tunnel. A muted wind carrying the foul stench of sulfur and rotting eggs, but also a deep sense of nothing . 

“We should investigate,” Yusuke would be the one to suggest that. And she remembered he used to be a do-gooder before he became a pariah. “Make sure we got them all.”

And honestly, Lia felt her good graces had expired. Her muscles burned. Her head-heavy. The smell of death permeated the basement, as did the metallic smell of blood, and it made her nauseous. She tried to do the math in her head to convince herself–and maybe even him–that they had exterminated all the beasts. But she couldn’t be sure. 

“I don’t know,” she argued weakly, “We don’t even know what we are going to do with these things.” She gestured to the bodies. “Zombie’s don’t necessarily rot like normal bodies, so maybe the smell won’t reach the people who live here, but someone’s gonna eventually stumble on this mess.”

“Yeah…and I was never really good at clean up.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I just hate leaving a mission incomplete.”

‘Nah,’ she thought, ‘I’m the master of unfinished business.’ She handed him her ax, which he took with his eyebrows etched with confusion, and she turned towards their created exit. “Have fun then.”

“Woah, wait!” he snapped, “You’re just gonna leave like that?! With all of this?”

“I came to find monsters. I found them. Now, all I want is a cigarette, a hot shower, and my bed.” She stopped under the open window, and then threw a look at Yusuke from over her shoulder. He stood there with the ax in one hand, a tired look, and surrounded by death. And he looked good, she couldn’t help but think. “There’s nothing more for us to do. We aren’t going to bury all these bodies. And we have potentially attracted the wrong kind of attention. You really want to be caught by whats-his-face lurking around his turf?”

She could see Yusuke’s eyes burn at the reference to Saburo. She wasn’t privy to their relationship, but from what Kurama had warned her about, Yusuke would certainly be on Saburo’s radar. Half-breed demon, former Spirit Detective, running a neutral zone bar? Now lurking in the shadows of an apartment complex with fresh kills. They were already reckless by arriving here in the first place.

Yusuke tossed the ax with a curse, and grabbed his discarded clothing. “Fuck that guy. Whatever. I got another plan, anyway.” 

They scurried out of the window. Yusuke gave Lia leverage to grip the edge and pull herself up, and then Lia held out her hand to help the former-detective. The wind carried an arctic chill that pricked at their exposed skin, but with it the welcomed smell of earth. At least smell wasn’t completely muffled by the dead zone–an attribute she welcomed once out of the death trap below. And before they made their leave, Lia threw one more cautious look through the window. They looked like gray mounds of clay under the heavy darkness of the basement. A strangled silence pulsing through the stones like the only thing alive was the silence. She couldn’t make up stories for all of them–but she murmured a different prayer, one calling out to a mother to welcome them to the afterlife. And her heart shuddered.

“You don’t even have cell reception here?! Fuck!” Yusuke shouted at no one. 

Lia was about to hush him again, when a blur caught her eye. She swung around towards the rubble of the other apartment complex. Nothing. But instinct twisted within her stomach. She knew she saw a shadow hovering just in the corner of her eye. Someone, or something, watching them. Yusuke, then, as if sensing her alarm, looked in the same direction.

“What?” 

“Thought I saw something…”

He narrowed his eyes. “You know what? I’m not keen to find out. You?”

“Yeah. I’m good.”

They backed out of the darkness, into a flickering street light, eyes glued onto the empty space. And once satisfied with the stillness around them, they took off down the road, back towards civilization. 

The echoes of their footsteps rose and died against the muffled dome of the dead zone. And against the brick structure wall of the remaining apartment, a silhouette appeared. 

♠️

They weren’t sure where the deadzone officially ended, but once the barreling of a truck shattered her ears, she saw it safe enough to slow down. They walked for sometime, trying to get the leer of the apartment complex out of their sight. They came upon a bench which overlooked the canal and the glittering lights of a neighboring city. Lia plopped down, giving her weary legs a chance to rest before making the walk home. Yusuke, meanwhile, pulled out what looked like an over-sized calculator and promptly started whisper-yelling into it. 

She pulled out her smokes–luckily they had survived the onslaught and placed one between her lips. She sparked the lighter, thankful for the brief burn of the flame against the cold wind, and lit the cigarette. The taste of nicotine flooded her throat and opened her lungs. She wondered why breathing became easier when she poisoned herself.  Then her eyes fell towards the city on the other side of the water, specifically the newly built condos that line the area. Darkened. The people in them were sleeping blissfully as the world continued to spin chaotically around them. And she sighed at something that could have been, and would have been, and never was.

Yusuke plopped next to her after a few moments. “You wanted to get home so bad, and yet you have time for a smoke break.” If he was mocking her, she couldn’t tell. He leaned forward and pulled out his own pack and followed her lead. 

“You have a cellphone, huh?” She exhaled into the night air, ignoring his comment, “Fancy.”

“It’s not a cellphone–the bar doesn't pay that well. It’s my way of contacting Spirit World.”

“Oh?” 

“Yeah. I called an old friend. He owes me about a million and one favors, frankly. I let him know the situation–he’ll send in a clean up crew.”

Lia quirked a brow. “Saburo?”

“Nah, he’s on a mission. Though, I will say, my contact ain’t too pleased that he didn’t discover a basement full of living corpses.”

Lia considered asking who Yusuke’s Spirit World friend was, but thought better. As little as she knows about that side of his life, the better. She also hoped he didn’t mention her involvement in the extermination; the last thing she wanted was unwanted attention from Spirit World-again.

“So,” Yusuke leaned back on the bench, relaxing with his smoke, “Since we just stared down death together, do I get to ask a personal question?”

“Didn’t realize we made that deal?”

“Just asking.” He shrugged, “You don’t gotta answer.”

That question was loaded to begin with–and any possible avenues he could take. She could always lie, too, she figured. And saying no would be more suspicious. “Sure. No promises I’ll answer.”

He nodded. “How did you, of all people, end up at my bar?”

She snorted, “Of all the questions, you want to go with that?” She took a drag, “You know how; Kurama.”

“Yeah, no, I know that. I mean.” She can see him from her side-eye struggling to come up with the words. “Just, how did you really get here, I guess.”

“Hmm. That’s a very long story if you want to start at the beginning.”

“Then give me the abridged version–or at least, the last ten years.”

Lia considered his question for a few more puffs of her cigarette. She considered lying flat out. But what was the point? The story wasn’t as torrid as it felt to her–it was honestly more pathetic than anything. She had locked it in her chest since she woke up in a stranger’s bed with smoke in her lungs. She didn’t even tell Kurama the whole tale; fearful he would judge no matter how pleasant those green eyes were. Who was Yusuke anyway? She turned slightly to face him; his eyes gazing into the blackness of night, making little O’s with the smoke in his mouth. She didn’t get the feeling he was in the business of judging anyone. And maybe, part of her, wanted someone to sympathize.

She threw her look back to the condos across the water. “You see those houses over there?”

Jarred, Yusuke followed her gaze. “Yeah.”

“About nine or ten years ago, my partner and I were going to live in one of those condos. It was supposed to be the next step in trying to make it work between us–all the pieces had fallen into place. We were finally in a position of…security. In a weird way, despite a lot of chaos around us at the time. I signed the lease. I picked out the furniture. I even considered getting a fucking job.” She tossed her cigarette with a cynical laugh. “Whatever. He got cold feet…or a better offer. Not completely unlike him; you’d think knowing him for, I don’t know, most of my life he couldn’t surprise me.

“I didn’t handle it well…” Understatement . “I went nuclear. Got myself in trouble. And then I  haunted both Makai and Nigenkai with my bullshit until a fire almost took me out. I woke up in Kurama’s underwear, and now I’m here; covered in black blood, smelling like rot, and not sure what to do next.

“Whatever. Shit could be worse, I guess.” She added bitterly. “Okay, your turn.”

She didn’t want to give Yusuke too much time to dwell on some of the aspects of her story. He jumped slightly when she threw the question back at him; he sat up straight, confused, “Huh?”

“How did the great Yusuke Urameshi, heir to a Makai throne, end up managing a bar in the middle of nowhere?”

He frowned. She hadn’t meant to sound so condescending ... .maybe a little …but she did feel exposed by his question–and thought it only far he also shared. 

Yusuke waited a few beats, grinding his teeth through his own story; he took one more long drag and tossed his smoke, as well, with a sigh. “After the first Makai tournament, I trained for a bit with Enki, and returned home. Got engaged. Started working at my fiance’s dad’s ramen stand. And it was fine. Just…normal. And I wasn’t used to normal. As the second tournament was approaching, I was feeling that itch, you know? I craved something that couldn’t be satisfied where I was. My fiance…she…” He ran his teeth across his lips, and his eyes seemed to lose their spark for a moment. Lia tilted her head with curiosity, and resisted…to poke into his head for the answer dangling on the tip of his tongue.

“She was great,” he finally rushed through. “Patient. I gave her every reason to bail on me; I was stuck in limbo, while she continued to pursue her dream. And all I wanted was one more chance to finish something I had started. So we made a deal, I would train for the tournament–give it everything. Leave it all on the table once and for all. And if I won, she would give up everything to help me rule Makai.” He laughed suddenly, “She would have kicked ass at that, you know. She would have definitely…whipped that place into shape.” Then he swallowed something heavy and continued. “And if I lost…we would go to the States where she had the opportunity to…”

He smacked his forehead, “I can’t ever remember what it was. Fuck.” He shook his head and slouched in his seat. “Doesn’t matter. I lost. I mean, I didn’t just lose. I got wrecked by Mukuro in the semi-finals. She acted like she didn’t use her full strength to make me feel better, but she one shot me into oblivion. I laid in a crater, staring at the sky as my life flashed before my eyes. I thought I was dead.

“I had to come back here with my tail between my legs. All that training and dedication, for nothing .”

“Sorry,” Lia said for the sake of saying something. “But, uh, I can’t help but notice you aren’t in the states?”

“Ack, yeah, this...part” He shook his head. “She handled everything. She bought the tickets, she got the lodging, dealt with the visa bullshit. All I had to do was show up at the airport on time…”

Lia recoiled as he left the last bit hanging in the air. “No. You didn’t.”

“I called her an hour before the flight and told her I couldn’t do it-”

Lia smacked his arm as hard as she could, “You asshole!”

“Ow! What the fuck was that for!?”

“You abandoned her!”

“I-I didn’t! I told her-”

She slapped his ridiculously toned arm again and again; Yusuke never blocked even though he could-easily. 

“You did exactly what Hiei did!”

Lia went for another hit, but Yusuke caught her wrist, and with a horrified look exclaimed. “ Hiei was your boyfriend!?”

She stopped. Dumbass.  “Uh…yeah…I guess you could say that?”

He dropped her wrist, and took a minute to replay the words again before slouching in his seat again and laughing into the night. “No freaking way, Hiei of all people was your boyfriend ?

“Boyfriend sounds so juvenile.” She murmured, her cheeks growing warm from embarrassment.

“So, wait, did he tell you about the Makai Tournament while you were trying to find a place?”

“Well yeah!”

“And if he won, he would rule Makai?”

“Yeah, but a kings a king, right?” She leaned against the back of the bench and crossed her arms over her chest, “But he didn’t become a king. And he never came back. He didn’t even tell me he was staying behind–sent a messenger to do his dirty work.”

“Damn…that sucks.”

“Not so different from what you did?” She threw him a stern look and he dropped his gaze to his battered knuckles resting on a fist on his lap. 

“Yeah, well.” He shrugged, “It was for the best. I would have held her back. She’s got a doctorate now, and working at some university in California, and has a boyfriend who I only want to kill half the time. But at least…he can give her everything I couldn’t…so. I’m happy for her. Even if I’m stuck here, just…doing the same shit I’ve been doing.”

“Heh. Time is a circle,” she mumbled. 

He considered her words for a moment and then allowed a weighted chuckle pass his lips. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

They sat in silence, dwelling in their respective paths that brought them to a bench in the middle of a quiet city, drenched in black blood, and full with that frustrating emotion of regret. And yet, Lia couldn’t help the feeling warming in her chest as the adrenaline from the battle started to quell–the excitement of dodging the fangs of death and the way her muscles screamed as she used them for the first time in a decade. For once, she felt like she wasn’t the one rotting. 

“Alright,” she announced, jumping to her feet, “I’m going to head home before I end up revealing any other deep dark secrets.”

“Sounds like you got a lot,” Yusuke snickered, “You want me to walk you home?”

“I can handle myself…but thank you.”

She shoved her hands in her pockets to keep the chill from biting her exposed fingers, and turned to leave. But Yusuke called her back once more with a soft, hey . She turned and he was standing, looking once at the houses that lined the canal across the water, his thumbs hooked onto his jean loops–and she can see considerations and contradictions weaving like a chaotic roadmap upon his face. Then, after a few static moments, he brought his eyes back to her.

“This was, uh, fun, you know?” It seemed more like a statement wrapped in the security of a question. “I haven’t done that in a long time. Felt…good.”

Lia nodded, “Yeah. I had fun, too…?”

His lips twitched into a relieved smile. “Maybe…if we stumble upon another weird phenomenon like this, we could…invistigate it?”

A voice echoed in the back of her head trying to warn her that this promise was a bad idea. But she pushed the voice and her hesitation into the back burner. And ignited it with a smile.

“That…sounds like a great idea.”