Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Hiei isn’t surprised to find that his body’s been moved as he slips back from the Spirit Realm and into his physical form. Nor by the sight of the other demon, perched by a rail near the edge of the rooftop they now occupy. Kurama’s gaze is pensive as he stares out at the dark skyline, but he acknowledges Hiei’s return with a gentle nudge of youki.

A tentative calm has settled over the now slumbering city, replacing the sudden panic that had overtaken it just a few brief hours before when the call had come to evacuate. Hiei can sense the patchwork of human life below them, settling into the lull of night, completely oblivious of the near miss of other-dimensional bombardment.

Hiei isn’t so easily pacified, though, and a distinct unease continues to churn in his gut. He steels himself with a breath, then takes his place by his companion’s side.

“It would seem Yusuke has pulled through for us once again.” Kurama says, eyes still focused on the twinkling horizon.

Hiei snorts in reply, his own gaze raking critically over the streets below and the filth spewing machines that roll noisily through them. The city’s acrid stench feels heavy and unpleasant on his tongue, a tangible reminder of how long it has been since he last returned to the Human Realm.

“He’s a lucky fool.”

Yes, Yuusuke had beaten the odds once more, and with nothing but a whim this time. There was no logic that could choose the right button for him. And in the end, everything would hinge on the reasoning of a lovesick teenager.

God’s will can shove it. I’m going with the Goddess.

Hiei finds his hand tightening over the rail. 

Beside him, Kurama smiles wistfully, and finally turns to look at him. “Maybe so,” he says. “Regardless, the peace was never going to last. It was only a matter of time. And with the barrier removed, I fear this is just the start of our troubles.” He exhales, and Hiei can sense the unease that ripples through Kurama’s normally steadfast composure. “There are other forces out there, I can sense as much as that. Biding their time.”

Hiei watches the shadows of the night's last stragglers weave along their way as he considers this. He has long since learned that it is wise to heed Kurama’s intuition. The fox doesn’t say such things without forethought. And he’s worried. worried for his humans and the little facade of a life he has created for himself. For Hiei, though, the promise of a new threat feels like a coming storm after endless drought. He can feel the Jagan begin to stir beneath its bindings, its energy reaching out reflexively in anticipation. Kurama will lament the loss of his peace, but not Hiei. What purpose has a blade beyond being weld? No, Hiei has as little use for peace as it has for him.  

“Hiei.” Kurama says his name softly, earnestly, in that way that means he wants the fire demon’s full attention. And that Hiei has all of his. It draws Hiei’s gaze to his with an irrefutable gravity. 

“We can’t do this without you. Tonight is proof of that, if nothing else.”

There’s an unspoken question there, an uncertainty in Kurama’s eyes. For a split second, this confuses the fire demon. He expects the others to doubt his dependability, that was never something he discouraged. But Kurama has always been able to read in between the lines. He should know better. Hiei’s here now, after all. Does that mean nothing?

And so Hiei decides to deny Kurama his assurance, and shrugs noncommittally. “If there’s a fight that interests me, then I’ll be there.”

Kurama does not seem satisfied with this answer, but doesn’t push the matter. He runs a hand through his hair absently. Eventually, his gaze drifts back to the skyline, freeing Hiei from its inescapable weight. “Koenma told me about your plan tonight,” He says after a long and silent pause. “The reason you stayed behind in the Spirit Realm.”

Hiei does not respond to this, so Kurama continues. “Once activated, it takes approximately 3.7 seconds for other-dimensional bombardment to begin. You're able to summon the dragon so quickly now?”

Hiei grunts noncommittally, and crosses his arms. 

“Even if you and Yusuke were able to destroy all the turrets, the feedback would have been catastrophic. It would have taken you with it.”

Hiei doesn’t see what the fox’s point is. There was always that one third chance that Yusuke’s choice would result in the destruction of the Gate of Judgement, and those who remained behind. What did it matter if they hedged those odds, if it meant saving the people who meant something to them? Both Yusuke and Koenma had agreed it was worth a shot. If it turned out the target was to be Sarayashiki, then they’d hit it with everything that they had. No matter the cost.

“It was a gamble. One we didn’t have to make.” Hiei eventually says, when it becomes clear Kurama is expecting some kind of response.

“You should have told me.”

“You weren’t needed there.”

Kurama’s gaze shoots back to his, this time with an undercurrent of repressed anger. But Hiei isn’t going to budge from his position. Kurama’s exclusion was intentional; Hiei had been adamant about it. 

“That wasn’t for you to decide.” The fox says in a low tone.

“You made it perfectly clear that your priority is your precious human life. Normalcy. Don’t be upset that we complied with that wish.” Hiei snaps back.

Kurama’s eyes narrow. “You’re being intentionally obtuse. After everything we’ve all been through, we should have seen it through together.”

“Should we have had the idiot stay behind, as well? The ferry girl, too?”

“That’s not what I-“

“Shut up, Kurama. It’s over. There’s no point to this conversation.”

“You seem to find little point in any conversation.”

“And what is it you want me to say? That I’m sorry for denying you your martyrdom? If sacrificing yourself is the only respite you can find from your conscience, leave me out of it. I don’t care about your guilt.”

This doesn’t elicit any anger, as Hiei intends. Instead Kurama just looks weary, maybe even a little sad. “And what about you? What respite does your death bring?”

Hiei turns from him immediately, done with the conversation. He wants to be away from here. Away from Kurama and the confusion he sows. But before he can make his escape, Kurama catches his arm.

“Hiei, wait.”

There’s something almost desperate in his voice that halts Hiei in his tracks. 

“Don’t leave like this.” Kurama says, voice barely more than a whisper. “Please.”

Hiei keeps his gaze fixed ahead, but hesitates despite a fast growing desire to melt away into the safety of the night. He feels the wind begin to pull at the train of his cloak. It carries Kurama’s scent: wild and green and inescapably familiar, and he freezes like a prey animal as the fox moves in far too close behind him.

“Why?” Hiei hears himself say, in a voice so raw he can hardly recognize it as his own.

Kurama responds with a gentle tug to his arm, urging Hiei to face him. His eyes are bright in the moonlight, hypnotic. They leave Hiei utterly defenseless as the fox’s arms wrap over his shoulders, and he’s gently pulled into the kind of embrace he’s rarely permitted in the past. 

“I miss you.” His partner says simply.

In this position, Kurama’s scent is overwhelming. Hiei breathes in deeply, unable to do anything but surrender to the hold as he’s wrapped in a warm shroud of the fox’s youki. His own energy’s resistance crumbles soft as sand, heedless of Hiei’s quickly deflating will as it leans into the contact like a tamed beast. Even the Jagan, fully equipped to stave off the most powerful of psychic assaults, falls passive.

“I've wanted to be able to accept the pieces as they’ve fallen.” Kurama says as Hiei relents to this strange spell and allows his forehead to settle against the other demon’s shoulder. This close, he can feel the rise and fall of Kurama’s chest as the fox releases a sigh. “And if staying there, with her, means your happiness, then that’s what I’ll do. Even though I know now that my happiness is tied to you.”

“I don’t….understand you.” Hiei mutters against the fabric of Kurama’s shirt.

“Hiei…What I’m trying to say, is that if the worst had happened tonight, my only wish would be that we face judgment together.”

Together. The word makes Hiei’s head spin, as does the way their youki has begun to tangle like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He wants to curse the fox, but finds he’s reaching out instead. His hand grasps the collar of Kurama’s shirt, first for purchase, then to pull him near, and when Kurama turns his head they are face to face and far too close.

“You talk too much.” Hiei eventually mutters, which brings a soft smile to Kurama’s lips. The one Hiei, like a fool, has begun to assume is reserved for him alone. 

“Yes, so you’ve said.” Kurama murmurs. “Maybe it’s easier to show you.”

Hiei blinks, then goes motionless as Kurama leans in and runs a hand through his hair. A light and reverent touch at first, then down, fingertips grazing his jaw. The fox has clearly lost his mind, and apparently so has Hiei, for allowing this. But some part of him must understand what is happening, even if his conscious mind has yet to catch up, because now he’s pulling the fox even closer. He’s the one to close the gap between them.

Kurama’s lips are soft against his. That thought pushes all of the reasonable ones right out of mind. He feels Kurama’s hand settle on his shoulder, the weight an anchor, an assurance, even as his head continues to spin like an unstable top. Though the act isn’t a familiar one to Hiei, it’s easy to follow Kurama’s lead, to lose himself in the taste of the fox on his tongue as the kiss begins to deepen. More importantly, he can sense the need on Kurama’s end, as desperate as his own. 

In that moment, he can’t fathom any possible reason to stop, but their lips eventually part. Kurama looks flushed and beautiful as he catches his breath, his eyes dark with want. Want and warm affection and other things Hiei is not quite capable of identifying. 

Things that are not meant to be directed at him. 

Hiei’s grip tightens, but his own gaze drops like a stone, the eye contact suddenly too intense. All of it is. He feels Kurama gently squeeze his shoulder, a gesture of reassurance, but it just becomes another stress on Hiei’s already overstimulated nerves, adds to the surge of panic quickly rising in his chest. He’s lost control. He’s lost control and he’s falling.

“Hiei,” Kurama begins to say, but the fire demon breaks at the sound of his name, and shoves the fox roughly away from him. He feels his youki flare dangerously as that part of his mind that has kept him alive for so long takes control, pushing all of that want and need right back down. Incinerating everything that can make him vulnerable. The walls come back up, glacial thick.

“Hiei, it’s okay,” he hears Kurama coax, though the fox, thankfully, is wise enough to give Hiei his space. “Just talk to me.”

But Hiei’s done talking. What he needs is to be away from here. Away from the fox and his words and the unprecedented intimacy which he’s offered for so long, and Hiei has, until now, so carefully evaded. Treasures offered, that Hiei will never be allowed to keep, or survive the loss of. 

Kurama’s youki reaches out again, infuriatingly patient, but Hiei repels it sharply. And when he finally looks up there’s confusion on the fox’s face.

“Don’t,” Is all Kurama says. Hiei’s primed to flee, there isn’t any stopping that now, and the fox knows this too, despite his plea.

Hiei simply shakes his head, stepping back. 

“Hiei, I l-“

“Just stop talking!”

The fox falls silent. For a heartbeat, the confusion turns to hurt, but that is quickly masked over, hardening into a realization, and Kurama takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. Hiei knows Kurama, knows that this is the fox’s own defense mechanisms kicking in. All because Hiei’s done the only thing he’s ever known how to do: inflict pain. 

It’s a controlled burn, though. Cauterization of a wound that, if left open, will continue to bleed and bleed until there’s nothing left. Hiei knows if he stays, when everything inevitably comes crashing down, the damage will be far worse. It will be fatal.

The wind blows between them, carrying errant leaves and the sounds of the city. Kurama’s city, with its fragile human beings that he has so carefully cultivated, like the flowers in one of his gardens. And Hiei is Hiei. A flame only knows how to burn.

“I don’t belong here.” It’s not enough, but it’s the only explanation Hiei can give in that moment.  

Kurama dips his head, eyes still closed, but doesn’t say a word. And by the mercy of the fox’s silence, Hiei makes his escape into the darkness.

Hours later, the sky begins to turn navy as dawn threatens to break. Hiei is still as a shadow, listening as the wind whispers softly to the leaves of the cedar tree he has made his perch. Eventually his hand reaches for the cord tied around his neck. He rolls the Hiruiseki between his fingers idly for a moment, then makes a decision, and flits from the branch without a trace.

The little neighborhood he finds himself in is just beginning to rouse itself, but a quick check with the Jagan confirms that the occupants of the house are still fast asleep. He hesitates by her window, but for only a second, then soundlessly slips through the unlatched frame and into the darkened room. 

Yukina is sound asleep, and barely stirs at his intrusion.

The room is steeped in shadows, but Hiei can make out the peaceful expression on her face, the tranquil state of her youki. She feels safe here. Content. He glances around the room. There are little signs of her all around, expressions of her budding new life: framed photos and books, art prints and new clothes. Yukina is clearly flourishing in her new setting. And that means Hiei has no more role to play in all of this: it is far past time he shut this door for good. 

Carefully, he lifts the cord binding Yukina’s tear gem over his head, and untangles it from his own. It shines, pale blue in the waning darkness, as he sets it down gently on the table beside his sister’s bed.

It’s better this way, Hiei reasons, though something inside of him is whispering ‘coward’. He ignores the urge to take one last glance at the only family he has, and turns away to the window.

“Brother…” His hand freezes on the latch. No, he can’t have this confrontation now. And how could she possibly have found out-

He hears her shift quietly in her blankets behind him, but she doesn’t say anything more. He waits for what feels like an eternity in the silence before he finally chances a glance. Her hair is splayed across the pillows, warmly lit by the diffused orange glow of the sun as it begins to peak over the horizon. She is still asleep, lost in a dream.

He releases a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding, but the pit in his chest has only widened. Hiei should have ended this charade long ago. He’s been selfish, allowing her to hold on to hope. But tonight will end that. 

After, Hiei heads straight to the barrier. He does not think about Yukina. He does not think about Kurama. His path is set, and he will endure as he has always done, secure in his solitude.

Hiei is falling.

Roaring wind whips at the loose strands of the fabric binding him, biting at his exposed face and filling him with a bone-deep chill colder than anything he’s felt during his short and wretched existence. Far below him unfurls a great tapestry of dense woodland and mountain and crag, hazy beneath nebulous curtains of cloud. It stretches off immeasurably into the distance, then melts into a horizon that looms ahead of him like the gleaming edge of a primed blade.

Hiei tightens his grip around the thin cord wound around his fingers and narrows his eyes as they begin to sting and water against the unrelenting rush of air. It’s not long before he reaches terminal velocity. He feels weightless; suspended in time in perpetual free fall. And he falls and falls and falls.

There’s no real fear as he hurdles down in his endless descent. His mind, aberrantly advanced after mere hours of life, is conscious of the power churning inside him, and he quietly accepts the cursed path ahead of him. He reaches inward and lets the surging inferno of his youki flare. The layer of ice forming in the folds of his little bundle melts in an instant, and he bears down on the earth like a meteor of burning hate.

But even as the heat spreads through him, Hiei still feels frozen as he gazes back up at the colossal black mass of Hyouga. His small fingers brush idly against the jewel hidden beneath the cloth, and the finality of his situation settles in. There’s a drop in his stomach that has nothing to do with the fall. He finds that if he listens too closely to the roar of rushing air, he can make out a high pitched cry of agony.

Hiei closes his eyes as gravity takes him, and as  he spirals away from the home that rejected him to an equally unwelcoming world, his thoughts are of flame, and spewing smoke, and melting ice. 

Hiei wakes with a jolt. His breath comes in sharp, his hands reach out blindly for purchase, but the shriek of rushing wind has been replaced with silence, and the ground is firm beneath him.

Nothing but dreams. Again and again.

He lets his head fall against the wall at his back, and listens as his pounding heart, nearly deafening in the empty chamber, slowly returns to a normal speed. He’s not sure how long he was out, but he can feel that Mukuro’s roving abomination of a fortress has come to a stop. Perhaps they’ve reached some destination, or maybe the centipede just needs to feed.

Hiei’s own stomach twists in protest at the thought, but there’s little subsistence to be found this far deep in the bowels of the fortress, and he has no interest in searching. He’s considering chancing another attempt at sleep, dreams be damned, when he catches the scent of copper in the air. With a curse he brings a hand down to his side; it comes back slick and red. 

He frowns and wipes his hand off on the worn bandages wrapped haphazardly around his torso, smearing fresh blood over the stains long dried. The wound must have opened back up as he slept. The damn thing just won’t heal right, and he’s starting to lose his patience. Before he would have long since given in, slunk back to the fox for proper healing, but that is no longer an option.

Hiei can easily imagine Kurama’s disapproval at his state, the unwarranted concern. The idea is enough to push any further thoughts of sleep from his mind; the fox has become a regular fixture in the unrelenting parade of his nightmares. Hiei keeps returning to that night weeks ago, and he’s not sure which would be worse: to dream again of the pain etched on Kurama’s face, or the feel of them pressed together so close.

His hand drifts absently to the tear gem around his neck, though he does not bother seeking comfort in its icy depths. The stone, which until recently had been the only constant source of solace Hiei has ever known, now hangs inert from its bindings, its energy sealed fast, perhaps gone entirely. Initially, he thought it a fluke, when he first gazed into the orb weeks prior, and felt nothing, no trace at all of the soothing aura he had, admittedly, come to rely on. But time has passed, and Hiei can only surmise that this comfort too is now lost to him. It seems futile to question why. Such asperity has always just been the nature of Hiei’s existence.

“You’re looking particularly pathetic today, Hiei.”

He lifts his head slightly as the sound of footsteps echoes throughout the cavernous chamber. Hiei did not sense her approach at all, a fact which only sinks his mood further. His grip around the jewel tightens.

“What do you want, Mukuro?” 

The former demon realm king comes to a halt a few paces away, regarding him with a tilt of her head, like he is some particularly interesting species of insect. The lense of her cybernetic eye glints sharply in the pallid light.

“Nobody has seen you in days. I just came to make sure you hadn’t bled out to death somewhere.” She eyes the red stain spreading over his side with an arched brow. “But it appears you’re still working up to that.”

“One would think you’d be able to find a more meaningful use of your time.” He retorts sharply.

She lets out an exasperated sigh. “Yes, well, seeing how it’s becoming increasingly difficult to find volunteers willing to so much as stand in the same room as you, that responsibility has fallen to me.”

“I don’t need you to check up on me. If you haven’t found anything for me to do that’s worth my time, then I don’t see why you're bothering me at all.”

“As if you’re any use to me in this condition. You need to heal.”

“What I need is a challenge.”

“Oh? The ōgumo seemed to challenge you just fine.” She gestures at the bandages. “Or are you just looking for something that can finish the job?”

“Fuck off.”

“Oh please, you’ve been sulking for weeks. Just let Ima treat your injuries already.”

“Your medic tried to have me poisoned last time she treated me.”

“She healed your wounds first, didn’t she?”

“Yes, your lackeys are very professional like that.”

Mukuro narrows her eye. “I mean it, Hiei. You look like hell. You’ve been off since coming back from the living world. Did you and your fox have a lovers spat?”

Hiei bares his teeth at her. Mukuro is treading into dangerous territory and she knows that perfectly well. “Watch your tongue, Mukuro. Or I’ll be happy to remove it for you.”

The demoness hums and tucks her arms behind her back. “There’s something else, isn’t there?” She examines him shrewdly for a moment, then her gaze locks in on the tear gem still clutched in Hiei’s hand. “The other Hiruiseki is gone,” She observes. “You gave it back.”

Hiei turns his head and stares hard at the wall.

“Ah. But you didn’t tell her the truth, did you?” She surmises, infuriatingly smug. “I’m curious. Which possibility frightens you more: that she will reject you? Or that she might not?”

“I told you to go!”

“Careful, Hiei. If you grip that stone any tighter, it might just crack.”

Hiei looks down at his hand, white and trembling around the jewel. “What does it matter?” He says after a moment, voice hollow. The anger drains from him on the spot, leaving only a bone deep exhaustion. “It’s worthless now, anyways.”

“…What do you mean?” Mukuro asks curiously.

“It doesn’t…work any more.” Hiei admits, staring  into the orb’s gleaming blue surface like he can will its strange power back. 

“Hm. Let me see.”

He grips the stone reluctantly for a moment, protective despite his claims. But it dawns on him that Mukuro might have some insight into this. She had been in possession of the tear gem herself for many years. Had treasured the peace it provided, just as he did. And so he eventually cedes, pulling the cord over his head and handing over the stone.

Mukuro’s gaze is immediately fixed to the gem’s sleek surface as she holds it up in front of her. Even in the wan light it seems to emit a celestial glow, drawing both demons’ full attention like moths to a flame.

To Hiei, this inspection seems to take an eternity. The longer Mukuro stares into the stone, the more his skin begins to itch. He swears he can see her lips upturn just faintly, a ghost of a smile, and he feels his heart begin to drop like a rock. Is she still able to feel the jewel’s influence? Is he just that unworthy?

Just when he’s sure that the last of his frayed nerves is about to snap, she finally looks away, and unceremoniously hands him back the stone. He is instantly riled by the blatant lack of interest on her face. She of all people should understand the gravity of this. “Well?” He snaps impatiently.

“It’s as you say.” She replies airily, and Hiei feels a wave of relief. The problem still persists, but at least that unthinkable alternative is not the case. 

“So what’s wrong with it?”

“Perhaps the source of its energy has been depleted.” This isn’t the answer Hiei wants to hear. Mukuro must take great pity on him, because she then adds: “Or maybe it has been corrupted.”

Hiei looks up at her and blinks. “How is that possible?”

She gives him an indulgent smile, like he is a child who needs simple things explained. “This type of Hiruiseki is not like the others. The tear shed by an ice maiden for her child is specially imbued with her youki. A piece of her lives on inside it, and so the jewel is, in a sense, alive. A derivative of both its creator and its intended. And like any other living thing, it can be influenced by outside forces.”

“You’re saying this was intentional?”

She shrugs. “Perhaps,” she says, “Or maybe just the result of passing contact. You’ve encountered many powerful demons, after all. That type of energy often has a way of lingering, doesn’t it?”

He looks down at the small gem in his palm and considers this. “And how do I fix it?”

She’s silent for a moment, and Hiei fears she has no answer for him. That he will have to move on, endure without the one comfort he so foolishly believed he could keep.

“As I said, the jewel is alive in its own way. And tethered to you, it’s intended. With the Jagan, you might be able to connect with it. Then possibly find the source of the corruption.” She then adds: “Assuming this theory is correct, of course.”

It’s worth a try, Hiei decides. “I understand.” He says, gaze still fixed on the gem. “You can go now.”

She smirks and begins to turn away, “I do hope you find what you’re looking for, Hiei.” She says over her shoulder before disappearing into the darkness.

Hiei frowns after her. He has the distinct feeling there’s something she’s not telling him, but he decides that he can accept that. He has an objective now, everything else is immaterial; if he can just fix this, all the rest can be endured. 

This is what he tells himself, and for now, he can almost pretend it to be true.

By the time he finishes his preparations, the moon has risen high overhead, red and bloated like an overripe fruit. It casts strange shadows throughout the demon realm wilds; writhing shrouds which seem almost as alive as the hungry predators that lurk within them. That darkness reaches out greedily as Hiei flits through the trees, though the fire demon is unperturbed. It is likely that he is the most dangerous thing in these woods tonight.

He takes his time searching for a spot that feels right, which ends up being a secluded thicket, tapered off by a thick wall of crag. It is well hidden and difficult to reach; he is confident he will not be disturbed. He settles on the grass in the center of the clearing, rolling his shoulders in an attempt to shake off the ache wearing through him. He’s redressed the wounds and replaced the bandages, but the journey has taxed him. Still, the idea of completing this communion at the fortress had felt wrong to him.

The fire demon exhales and reaches for the jewel hanging over his heart. The wind, tempered by the surrounding bulwark of thistles and brush, tugs gently at his hair, carries the scent of rain and wild greenery. It elicits an unaccountable calm inside of him. It makes him think of the fox.

He pushes that thought away and places the tear gem before him. It glitters like a small star in the grass. Then, there’s a crackle of repressed youki as the evil eye begins to push at its bindings, sensing its master’s intent. Its energy is pulsating, building up like a swelling storm, and when Hiei finally pulls away the wards the eye opens wide, and its power surges forward like a hungry wave. Hiei concentrates his will, pulls at the invisible tethers that binds it to him, and directs that focus on his birthright.

He can sense nothing at first. This sends an icy bolt of panic through him, because despite the lies he’s told himself, right now he knows he cannot survive this loss. So he wills the Jagan to push deeper, guides the tendrils of its energy straight into the jewel’s core. Into its heart.

And then he feels it. Faint, just the sliver of a thread of youki. Youki as familiar to him as his own. He reaches out for it. And he does not let go.

Hiei is cold. He is freezing.

His eyes snap open, and he is immediately blinded by a harsh canvas of bright white and the burn of roaring wind. His hand jerks up to shield his eyes. He tries to step back, but his feet stick in place, and he falls to his knees instead. 

Frigid air blasts around him. He reaches out in front of him reflexively and the ground crunches beneath his hands, burns with cold. Snow. He realizes with bewilderment. Not possible, not this far into summer. 

Hiei struggles to catch his lost breath, tries to orient himself. All while the unrelenting gale whips at his back, showers him hard flakes of ice. Where is he? What the hell happ-

The Hiruiseki.

Hiei releases a surge of his youki, pushing back at the numbing cold, then staggers to his feet. His eyes are beginning to adjust now; he can make out the silhouettes of jagged mountain peaks behind the shroud of falling snow, jutting from the land like lopsided icicles. Wind shrieks fiercely in his ears, threatening to overwhelm his senses, but Hiei has grasped the situation. He knows where he is now. This is Hyouga. 

There’s a million questions running through his head. Is this merely a vision, an illusion cast by the jewel? Or has he been somehow physically transported? It feels very real, regardless.

Hiei tucks his hands into his cloak, tries to take stock of this situation, figure out his next move. And then he feels it, faint as a whisper. The tug of his mother’s youki. 

He turns towards the source, and then he can see it. Barely visible in the distance, but unmistakable, the Glacial Village. The place of his birth. The cradle of his perdition.

Hiei takes a breath, and steps forward into the storm.

Chapter Text

Far ahead in the distance, the Glacial Village shimmers like a mirage behind the billowy haze of the blizzard’s wrath.

Hiei raises an arm over his eyes as the gale shifts and torrents him with snow. He grits his teeth, pulls his scarf over his mouth and nose, and trudges onward against the wall of wind and ice. 

The snow only deepens as he goes, soon piling up past his knees, making each step a momentous effort. Wind howls in his ear, burns against his face. His vision is consumed by an ocean of unrelenting white.

Another step. Another step. He repeats this in his head, a mantra. Even as the cold begins to creep to his core, even as the clothing beneath his cloak soaks through and hardens with ice. He loses time. No telling how much. The flame within him puffs and sputters weakly, but he stares defiantly into the storm, right up until a violent shudder racks through his body, and his right leg buckles beneath him, numb and unresponsive to Hiei’s resolve.

He raises his head weakly. Up ahead, his destination flickers in and out of sight like a dying star, still so far away. He tries to reach out, pull himself forward, but his hand only curls impotently in the snow. 

Numbness has begun to snake up his body, starts to dull sharp pain to an almost tolerable ache. And he’s tired. So tired that he begins to wonder what point there is in moving from this spot at all. What lies ahead but more frigid ice and the endless expanse of cold nothing?

His head, impossibly heavy, lolls down onto a pillow of snow, and he blinks listlessly as snowflakes whirl around him. He can still make out the silhouette of clustered rooftops looming beyond - impassive observers of his fate. They blink out of sight again as his eyelids flutter open and shut. Consciousness is becoming a battle. One he isn’t sure he now cares to win.

Hiei…

He doesn’t quite hear his name, not over the wild roar of the wind, so much as sense it. Up ahead there is a flicker of movement, and he can just make out a phantom of a figure behind the curtain of snow. A familiar one.

“Yu…Yukina?” 

The figure is still in the distance. Unmoving. 

Wordlessly, Hiei staggers back to his feet, and continues forward into the drift. Continues on, even as the world grows dim around him, and the Glacial Village slips away like a dream.

“Breaking and entering. Three counts of theft of a Class A restricted artifact. Destruction of Spirit Realm property. Five counts of accessory to the extraction of a human soul with the intent to consume. Unlawful use of a Class A restricted artifact. Eighteen counts of telepathic subjugation of a human being. Nineteen counts of aggravated kidnapping. Attempted demonification of a human being. Extortion. Aggravated battery of a Spirit Realm agent.” Koenma glances up from the scroll spread across his desk and leans forward in his chair.  “Am I missing anything, ogre?”

“I’d say one count of a bad attitude, sir.”

“Well, that’s not technically a crime…” Koenma squints back down at the paper, then scribbles his quill across the page. “Let’s go with…failure to cooperate with a Spirit Realm investigation.” 

“This is ridiculous.” Hiei mutters, not for the first time since this absurd excuse for a trial began. His patience is growing thin. He glances toward the heavy plated double doors leading out of the Reikai prince’s office. It would be a simple thing, to walk right through them. Or it would have been. If not for the youki dampening shackles clasped around his wrists and the two ton ogre at his back. He needs to be out of this place. He needs to...

He needs to...to what? Why is he here? He was on Hyouga. He was-

“What’s ridiculous is the amount of paperwork I’ll have to do because of this mess!” Koenma squawks back. “Are you aware of how serious these charges are?”

“I don’t care. Just do whatever it is you're going to do.”

Kurama, who has been listening quietly thus far, clears his throat from the edge of the room. “Lord Koenma, if I may…” He interjects, stepping forward and tucking his arms behind his back. It annoys Hiei that he is here at all. The fox has already finagled his way out of his own punishment, so what does he now get from haunting Hiei’s proceedings? “I hardly think it’s fair to hold Hiei responsible for Goki’s crimes.”

“Goki wouldn’t have had the Orb of Baast if you two hadn’t broken into the Vault with him, now would he?” Koenma replies tartly. 

“Our group splintered before he began taking souls. Goki’s actions were his own at that point.”

Hiei frowns as he listens to the exchange. He doesn’t understand what Kurama is playing at, betraying him, only to defend him here. It’s a simple rule of survival, really: make sure those you wrong do not end up in any kind of position to retaliate - the preferable position being facedown in a shallow grave. But as usual, the fox has chosen to act counter to any kind of rationality.

Koenma takes a moment to consider, then shrugs indifferently. “Fine, I’ll waive the accessory charges.” The sound of the scratching quill resumes. “But there’s still the matter of the numerous crimes he did commit.”

“Well,” Kurama begins diplomatically. “The Shadow Sword’s malignant influence was far greater than any of us had expected. Hiei was hardly himself by the time he had his confrontation with Yusuke.”

Hiei rolls his eyes, and Koenma tuts, unconvinced. “Nobody told him to steal it in the first place! It was locked away for good reason.” 

Kurama casts his gaze down to the floor like a proper repentant. “Yes, desperation makes fools of us all.” He laments with a soft sigh. “But poor judgment is not Hiei’s crime alone to bear. I played my role as well.” 

Absolutely insufferable.

Koenma narrows his eyes. “So you’re saying I should punish you too, then?”

The fox laughs nervously and waves the notion away like a pesky fly. “No, not at all. I just think I can speak for the both of us when I say that this situation played out in a way we had not anticipated. And yes, the Shadow Sword caused Hiei to make some…regrettable decisions, but when this began, none of us intended for anyone to get hurt.”

“Apart from Goki.”

“Apart from Goki.” Kurama agrees quickly. “And we never would have allied with him in the first place had we known his true colors.”

Hiei snorts loudly, earning a sharp glare from the fox. Yes, who could have possibly predicted what a kyūkonki would do with an artifact that extracts souls? If Koenma is buying this then he’s an even bigger fool than Hiei initially thought, which is really quite an accomplishment.

Koenma taps the end of the quill against his desk and looks between the two yokai shrewdly. “Even if this is true,” he says in a tone that suggests he does not think it is in the least, “I don’t see how I can justify a commuted sentence, not with the severity of the charges.”

“I don’t care about justifying anything.” Hiei snaps. He’s reached his limit with these two, arguing his fate like he’s not even there. “And I refuse to grovel for anyone’s mercy.”

“Hiei, please.” Kurama chides disapprovingly.

“You see? How am I supposed to work with this?” The toddler gripes, waving his hands.

“Lord Koenma,” The fox regroups with a deferential dip of his head. “I’m sure Hiei regrets…the outcome of this situation.”

“Is that right, Hiei?” Koenma asks him pointedly.

Hiei makes a noncommittal hmpt and turns to stare at the wall. 

“There we have it,” Kurama says with a sheepish smile. “Very remorseful.”

“There’s also the matter of motive to consider. You intended to use the Forlorn Hope to save your mother. Fine. But what plans did Hiei have for the Shadow Sword, hmm? Apart from general malfeasance, that is?”

Kurama is silent for a moment. And when Hiei glances over, he finds the fox’s calculating gaze on him. “Hiei had his own reasons. He’s looking for someone-“

“Kurama, shut up! Don’t you dare say another word.”

The fox lets out an exasperated breath and shuts his eyes for a moment, then turns his back to Hiei. “My Lord, perhaps we could speak in private for a moment?”

Koenma’s ridiculous hat tilts to the side as he slumps back in his seat. “Fine, fine.” He says, bringing his little gavel down with a few careless thuds. “Ogre-Bailiff, return the defendant to his cell, please.”

“Kurama, you bastard-“ Hiei shouts out before the massive wall of ogre gives him a shove toward the exit. “You’ll pay for this.”

The fox stares after him, expression unreadable. “Without a doubt.” He murmurs before the doors slam shut.

Over the course of the next half an hour, Hiei occupies himself by subjecting the manacles to a sequence of twisting, yanking, crushing, grinding, and smashing against every possible surface available to him. The ogre overseeing him watches with mild curiosity, but doesn’t say a word.

Stupid fox. He thinks as he furiously saws the links against the corner of the cell bench. The attempt is so far yielding similar results to the previous ones, in that it does essentially nothing. It’s becoming apparent that if he wants these damn things off, he’s probably going to have to resort to more unpleasant alternatives. 

He lets out a growl of frustration, drops his hands to his lap, and stares up at the ceiling. It’s been quite some time since Hiei’s felt as cornered as he is now, at the mercy of the machinations of a traitor and an overreaching prince. Kurama’s exact motives are somewhat of a mystery, but it’s clear that he believes Hiei is of some use to him alive. It’s a testament to the fox’s audacity if he thinks he can make a pawn out of Hiei with honeyed words and a pretense of comradery, especially after betraying him once already. Although to be fair, Hiei was the first to prove himself a fool by relying on other yokai. That’s a choice that never ends well.

The fire demon glares down at the shackles and begins to wonder if an attempt to bite through them might yield anything more than a mouthful of broken teeth, when he hears the metallic shriek of the outer door opening. He doesn’t bother getting up when he sees that it’s Koenma entering the cell block, his assistant trailing after him. The ogre proceeds to trip over the threshold, nearly dropping the stack of books in his hands.

“Jorge, pull it together!” Koenma snaps before turning his attention to Hiei with an exasperated sigh. “You wouldn’t believe how hard it is to find good help these days.” 

“Can we just get on with it?” 

Koenma tuts with disapproval. “It wouldn’t kill you to show a little decorum, what with the threat of eternal damnation and all, hmm?” He stretches out a hand expectantly toward the ogre, who cycles through the books in a frenzied panic before handing the prince an ancient looking tome bound in fading red leather. “But fine. Are you familiar at all with the Doctrine of Extended Liability?”

Hiei blinks at him. He was expecting questions about Yukina. Or perhaps a demand for repentant groveling. Eventually he manages to replace the confusion on his face with an impatient scowl. “What do you think?”

“It’s an archaic bit of precedent, probably hasn’t been used in a millennia.” The Reikai prince says as he leafs through the book. “You just don’t see that type of venerated partnership between yokai anymore. Not to mention that the general consensus for a time was that it was quite frankly, unfair-“

“Is there a point to your prattling?”

Koenma frowns around his pacifier. “Let me boil it down for you. There’s an old law that allows the judiciary to charge yokai equally for the crimes of their partners. It was, admittedly, a workaround to detain demons viewed as potential threats for crimes they didn’t commit. Not used anymore, of course, but technically, still in the books.” He taps at the open page. 

Hiei frowns, eyeing the jumble of symbols printed on the paper suspiciously. “So what?”

“Well, Kurama has just invoked this doctrine. And so, as your partner, will be required to serve the same sentence as you.” 

Hiei must not have heard that correctly. “He did what?”

“It is, as you can imagine, quite unprecedented for the doctrine to be called on by a defendant, but here we are.” Koenma snaps the book shut and tosses it carelessly to the ogre, who has to do a frantic little jig to balance it on his stack. 

“That makes no sense.” Hiei says, eyes narrowing. “And we aren’t partners.” In Hiei’s experience, partnerships between yokai were taken quite seriously, often cemented with oaths, viewed as a contract. Given the capricious natures of most of the Makai’s denizens, that made true partnerships rare, and about as ill-advised as taking a stick to a nest of wasp demons.

“He said you might deny it, to protect him. But he was quite insistent.”

“Protect-?” the fire demon huffs, disbelief driving him to his feet. “Has he lost his mind?” If Hiei has any interest in protecting Kurama it’s only so he can throttle the fox himself.

“That’s what I said.” Koena grumbles, crossing his arms. “But my hand is forced now, and I have to treat you two as a package deal.” If the prince’s tone is any indication, he’s anything but pleased with this development. That’s something, at least. “Kurama has agreed to probation, which can only happen now if the same offer is extended to you.”

“Probation.” Hiei echoes, unimpressed.

“There’s trouble brewing in the human world, and  Yusuke Urameshi is going to need some capable backup.”

So that’s what this is all about. These Spirit Realm bureaucrats must be absolutely desperate. Hiei regards the prince skeptically. “And if I refuse?”

“Then you will remain in Spirit Realm custody until you receive final judgment, which probably won’t be pleasant considering your crimes.” Koenma says sharply. “As will Kurama.”

Hiei briefly considers if eternal damnation would be worth the look on Kurama’s face if this plan of his was to blow up spectacularly.

“I’ll let you two discuss the offer.” Koenma says, turning to his minions and spinning a finger in the air. “Bailiff, let Kurama in.”

The larger ogre lets out an unintelligible grunt and shuffles off to the door. Hiei frowns after him. “How long will this probation last?” He asks, wrapping his hands around the bars in front of him. The manacles jingle tauntingly from his wrists. 

“Until we say so.” Koenma says without looking back. “And if you break the conditions we set, or try to run, it’s right back behind bars for both of you.”

Hiei responds with a disdainful “Tch.”  

Light pours into the dimly lit chamber as the doors squeal back open, and in strolls the fox, hands tucked into his pockets. He meets Hiei’s hard stare evenly.

“You’ve got ten minutes.” Koenma says, and he snaps his fingers brusquely at his bailiff, prompting the ogre to first scratch his head, then eventually pull down a large lever on the wall. The door to Hiei’s cell releases with an audible click. “I’d like this matter over with ASAP.” The prince instructs sternly. “My stories are on soon.”

Kurama gives him an indulgent hum of understanding, and steps back as the prince sweeps past him to the exit, his hapless set of peons hurrying after.

And then the doors shut firmly closed, and it’s just the two of them, and the silence between them. Kurama doesn’t move for a moment, seems to be lost in thought, but eventually he releases a heavy sigh and turns to the cell.

Hiei lets his arms swing down in front of him, but doesn't otherwise move, doesn’t say a word, just watches the fox, who, in yet another display of outrageous nerve, walks right into the cell and slides down on the bench. 

“You’re still quite angry with me.” Kurama observes after a moment, leaning back against the bars. 

Hiei turns to face him squarely, and frowns. “Were you expecting me to thank you?”

“No, but you’re welcome to anyways.” The fox fusses idly with the crook of his collar as he speaks. “You didn’t make this any easier, you know. One would think you wanted capital punishment.”

“What are you playing at anyways, with this doctrine ploy?”

Kurama looks up and raises an eyebrow at him. “Your trial wasn’t going well.” He says pointedly. “It was the only way to guarantee that Koenma would offer you probation.”

“But why?” It makes no sense to Hiei. The fox had already secured his own freedom - why take this risk?

“I have a feeling this situation is more complicated than Koenma has let on. That there are considerable dangers up ahead.” Kurama explains. “I would prefer to have a capable ally on my side. Someone I can trust.”

“Trust?” Hiei snorts. That’s rich, coming from a traitor. 

Kurama must guess what he’s thinking, gives him a wry smile. “I think we worked well together. If you can look past the last few setbacks, that is.”

“These setbacks being the blade you left in my back.” Hiei clarifies sharply.

Kurama widens his eyes innocently. “And you stabbed me in the front, as I recall. I’d say that makes us even.”

“You have yourself to blame for that.” Hiei retorts indignantly. “If you hadn’t interfered-“

“If I hadn’t interfered, there would only be two possible outcomes.” Kurama interrupts, sharp as a razor. “And even if you were able to defeat Yusuke, Koenma would have no more control over the situation. As soon as King Enma returned, he would have deployed the Special Defense Force, and they would have killed you.”

“I’d have welcomed them to try.” Hiei growls. “I’m not afraid of the Reikai’s dogs.”

Kurama shakes his head resolutely. “They’re on an entirely different level, Hiei.” He warns, tone deadly serious. “I know this firsthand.” That sits heavy in the air for a moment, hints at more of Kurama’s inscrutable past, which Hiei is sure he’s barely begun to scratch the surface of. 

“Hiei,” Kurama says after a long pause. “I know the words mean little to you, but I am sorry.”  He runs a hand absently through his hair, like he needs something to do with it. “Not for interfering at the warehouse, that was necessary. But my original plan had meant leaving you to deal with the fallout from Spirit Realm, and I shouldn’t have put that on your shoulders.”

“You're right.” Hiei murmurs, turning away from him. “Words are nothing.”

Kurama dips his head assentingly. “Hiei-“

“Enough, Kurama.” The fire demon snaps. “You got what you wanted. Your human mother, your freedom, and now your pawn. Don’t try to play me for a fool on top of it.”

The fox sighs. “So you’ll agree to the probation?”

“Obviously.” Is Hiei’s bitter reply. “What other choice do I have?”

Kurama falls silent, twisting a forelock of hair as he stares idly through the bars, clearly still not satisfied, clearly still deep in thought. After a few moments, he gets up to his feet. “I’d like for you to stay, and I’d like for us to work together. Spirit Realm’s resources might even prove useful in locating Yukina.”

“I already said I’d do it.” Hiei mutters.

“I know.” Kurama gives him a small smile, takes a step forward so that they are face to face. “You know, these last few years, I’ve learned so much. From my human mother, as you put it. When she became ill, saving her was the only thing that mattered to me, and giving up my life for hers seemed like proper restitution for my sins.” He reaches for the cuff of his sleeve and gives a soft chuckle. “And then comes Yusuke. Willing to sacrifice himself for nothing but a stranger, a thief.” There’s a gleam of polished metal as the fox slips out a small key from beneath the cloth. “I see now that there is still much for me to learn.”

Hiei blinks in confusion. “Where did you get that?” He asks with disbelief, freezing as the fox gently takes his wrist to unlock one cuff, and then the other, before letting the manacles clang unceremoniously to the floor. Whatever wardings had sealed off his youki vanish instantly, and he can feel the warm flow of energy buzz through his veins; the Jagan begins to stir like a waking dreamer. “What are you doing?”

Kurama gives him a conspiratorial smile and tucks the key back into his sleeve.Then his hands go back to his pockets. “Listen Hiei,” He says intently, drawing the fire demons’s gaze deep into his. “You do have a choice. I won’t let that be taken from you. You can walk away if that’s what you want.”

Hiei just stares, at a loss for words as his brain tries to make any kind of sense of what is happening. If this is some kind of bluff, an attempt to manipulate him, it’s a very reckless one. And Kurama isn’t stupid, Hiei has worked with him enough to know this. “What about the Reikai?” He eventually manages to say. 

The fox shrugs without concern. “I can handle them.”

“You’re insane.” He informs Kurama bluntly.

The fox shrugs again.

Hiei pauses, glances toward the door. Then he turns back to Kurama. “Do you actually think they can help find Yukina?”

Kurama gives him a nod, eyes slightly widening.

Hiei sighs. He’s going to regret this. “Then go tell that buffoon we’re ready to talk.”

Enough. 

Hiei has seen enough of this. This distraction. He doesn’t understand why he is here, why the stone is showing him this - something that happened so long ago. 

Hiei needs to regain control. So he refocuses. Centers himself. He pushes aside the memory, and he reaches back out - reaches out until he can feel the cold grasp of winter swirling back around him, and he pushes on forward.

Chapter Text

Hiei is hungry. He’s been hungry for so long now.

Snow and dead branches crunch beneath his feet. He’s long lost the energy for stealth. He can’t remember ever feeling so depleted, so fatigued. He can’t remember his last meal.

The forest is silent around him, muffled by the blanket of snow. Everything around him is so dead, nothing at all to pull from. Even the energy of the trees around him has been drawn in deep, too far for him to reach. And….and- 

No, this isn’t right. He isn’t in a forest, he’s on Hyouga-

Hiei blinks, his body coming to a halt before his disoriented mind has time to catch up. There's a scent in the air, faint, but unmistakable. It draws out the last reserves of his strength, and he flits forward with renewed speed.

Why is he here? He needs to get to the village. He needs to reach the source-

By the time Hiei begins to close in on his quarry, the sky has dimmed, turned a faded shade of lavender. A thin column of smoke trails lazily above a small clearing ahead, and Hiei can smell ash from the fire, and more importantly, what’s cooking above it.

He slips to the edge of the circle of trees, silent as a wraith, and his gaze is instantly fixed to the large rat-like beast skewered over the flames. He notes the four demons huddled around the campfire in his periphery and his initial thoughts are of bloodshed. His mouth waters, anticipation shudders through him. 

Then an unfamiliar hesitation holds him back. Uncertainty. He lost his last weapon weeks ago, his energy is dangerously depleted, and he doesn’t have a good read on the power levels of these yokai. This might not be a fight that he can win. It’s an unusual thought. It makes him pause, and somewhere in the back of his splintered mind, Hiei remembers.

This is just another memory...Something that happened long ago...He remembers…

He is halfway through his eighth year - the year of his exile from the bandit clan that raised him, and the year of the winter that will last nine moons. It is one he very nearly does not survive. 

The smell of cooking meat hangs heavy on the air, and Hiei’s stomach grinds unhappily in protest. He is small and swift, perhaps if he waits for the right moment, waits for a lapse in their attention-

“It’s Hiei, isn’t it?”

The fire demon tenses, eyes snapping to the largest member of the group as he primes himself to flee. The heads of the other three yokai turn in his direction, hands begin to reach for weapons, but the big one waves them down, and leans back passively against the tree stump at his back.

Hiei stays frozen for another heartbeat, then takes a step out of the shadows toward the firelight. It irritates him that he was spotted. It irritates him more that he wanted to hide. And so he decides that if these demons want blood spilt, he will happily oblige them. 

The large one is tilting his head, examining Hiei thoughtfully, but gives no indication that he is threatened by the little fire demon’s intrusion. This makes Hiei wary, though also immensely curious. Why does this one know his name?

He takes another slow, deliberate step towards the fire. It crackles happily, its flames bending toward him like an old friend, driving back the bone deep chill that has plagued him since the first frosts of winter. In its light, he can better make out this demon’s features. Broad shoulders blanketed with a patchwork of pelts, craggy face divided diagonally by a deep scar, and dark rounded ears that suggest some type of animal yokai. Bear, Hiei thinks. He knows this demon.

The recognition must be apparent on his face, as he’s flashed a lopsided grin. Kumao. That is what this one is called. Hiei remembers, because this demon is one of the few his clan had dealings with that was of any real note. Far stronger than most of the local bandit ilk, Kumao’s small band was renowned for chasing only the most dangerous of quarry. He was an old ally of Hiei’s clan leader, occasionally joining them for trade. 

“You seem hard traveled, little one. Come, warm yourself.”

Hiei eyes him suspiciously, does not move. He notes the leery glances exchanged between the three demon lackeys. The tension between them despite their leader’s easy words. And Hiei realizes that this situation is bad. Kumao is very strong, stronger than Hiei even. And in a winter like this, everyone is prey. The fire demon shifts his weight, readies himself.

“You must be hungry.”

Hiei pauses, then watches, trancelike, as Kumao leans in forward and pulls a meaty haunch from the smoking beast. And when the onikuma tosses it over to him, he pounces without thought, feral in his need. 

He hears the bandit leader chuckle as his teeth sink into the still sizzling flesh. 

“Ah, I thought so. How cruel of Oyama to cast you out at first snow. A swift death would have been kinder.”

Hiei growls around the mouthful he’s chewing and crouches a few paces back, eyes narrowing as he watches the bear slice off a piece for himself. This offering of food makes no sense to him, must be some kind of ploy. But the fire is warm and the meat delicious on his tongue, and he can’t bring himself to flee as he knows he should.

Kumao waves a hand at his demons, and they begin to dig in as well. “Oyama spoke to me about you once, you know.” He continues, conversationally. “He was quite amazed by the pace of your progress. Just a cub, and yet already eclipsing some of your most seasoned clansmates. He felt he had no choice, turning you out. He feared that it would not be long before you surpassed him as well.”

Hiei blinks as he gnaws the end of the bone, and considers this. Four moons had passed since Oyama, the closest thing to anything resembling family that Hiei has ever known, told him to leave, to never come back. The clanleader said that he was too wild, too dangerous to stay. That the others feared him. 

Hiei had not really understood this. The bandits had always been fickle. As quick to turn their blades on an ally as they were an enemy over meager scraps of food or a few loose coins. That was their way. The strong survived, and the weak were weeded out. Hiei had committed no transgressions that had not been done first to himself. Yet they still made him leave. 

He feels the bone crack between his teeth. Yes, Oyama must have feared him, feared the possibility of a competitor. Hiei decides that this Kumao is quite wise. He also decides that he likes the way Kumao speaks of his power. His clanmates had always shunned him for it, called him cursed, aberrant. But the bear demon clearly understands what true power means. He isn’t driven by fear.

Kumao lets out an amiable bark of a laugh when Hiei’s gaze drifts back to the spit. “Plenty to go around, little cub, here.” He says as he reaches over the fire and begins to carve off another generous chunk. “This winter, it’s going to be a real nasty one, let me tell you. Not one you make it through alone. Me and mine, though, we stick together.” He spears the strip on his knife, then turns toward Hiei, holding it out, an offering. “Understand?”

Hiei glances over his shoulder into the darkness waiting beyond the clearing. Together? The concept is odd, unfamiliar. He has always been alone. Even when surrounded by his clanmates. It had never occurred to him that for some, there was an alternative. 

Frigid air rustles the ragged train of his cloak, makes the fire sputter and crack. And Hiei? Well, Hiei wonders for a moment what that might be like. To be something else. To not be alone. Then he turns back to the warmth of the fire.

Hiei feels the Jagan’s power pulse around him as the memory fades away like a dissolving dream. The flow of its energy is strange, dislocated, like it’s been uprooted from its bindings in Hiei’s mind and is now flowing freely all around him. He can feel the tug and pull of its focus, latching back onto the trail of youki like a bloodhound catching a scent. It guides Hiei back, and he opens his eyes.

Chapter Text

The sun glows softly through a thin veil of clouds overhead, its light glittering over the snow like a tapestry of twinkling jewels. A few errant snowflakes drift lazily around him, but the storm has otherwise passed. And up ahead, surrounded by jagged spears of mountainous ice, lies the Glacial Village, waiting.

With the storm no longer battering him from all directions, Hiei finally begins to make some progress as he treks on, steadfast even as the way ahead begins to slope sharply uphill. The wind is an incessant whistle in his ear, his only companion in the otherwise vast emptiness that expands between him and his goal. The Koorime were prudent to choose this desolation for their solitude; to venture here is madness.

The rolling blanket of white soon begins to make his vision swim, enough so that he barely registers when the land ahead comes to a sudden end, forcing Hiei to halt so abruptly that his weight sends a torrent of snow and ice cascading down the side of the cliff.

He corrects himself and looks down. A numbness begins to spread down his spine that has nothing to do with the cold.

The marker, he recognizes instantly. It protrudes from the valley below like a petrified tree, every jagged edge, every fissure etched into the pallid stone just as he remembers. His gaze slides quickly over the characters carved down its center, past the base of the pillar and to the small figure standing before it.

Yukina raises her head and meets his gaze.

Hiei blinks as his sister smiles softly at him. She does not seem surprised to see him, looks expectant even. And Hiei hesitates, tries to direct the Jagan to this image of his sister, but its power is still too diffused, and the effort is like trying to grasp at smoke. But he knows this is no memory. And there’s no way she’s left the human realm. So then what?

He senses no malevolence, so eventually he levers himself over the edge of the cliff and flits down to the clearing below. The speed of this action pulls a surprised “Oh!” from Yukina, but she quickly composes herself, dipping her head politely in greeting. “Hello, Hiei.”

“What are you doing here?” Hiei says, frowning as his gaze flickers to the bright blue orb tied around her neck. 

His sister waits patiently until he finally meets her gaze, then she raises a small basket Hiei hadn’t noticed she’d been holding. “It’s a human tradition. To offer flowers.” The red petals of the lilies are vibrant against the pale fabric of Yukina’s traveling cloak. Like blood on fresh snow. “They’re lovely, aren’t they?”

Hiei glances from Yukina to the stone pillar behind them. “They’re…for her?”

The ice maiden nods and reaches for a flower. “I think she would have liked them.” She muses as she runs a finger gently over the lily’s soft petals. “Flowers like these don’t bloom on Hyouga.”

Hiei watches in silence as she turns away from him and kneels down before the marker. The wind catches her hair as she bows her head, and strews a few loose petals into the air along with the snow. Hiei suppresses a shudder.

Yukina takes her time, arranging the lilies reverently at the base of the grave. Adjusting errant leaves and crooked stems with a level of care wasted on the dead. Eventually Hiei has enough. “This isn’t real.” He says. 

Her hands pause their movement, but she doesn’t speak right away. Instead she straightens her last flower, then rises to her feet, dusting snow off her cloak.

“You’re not really here.” Hiei persists.

“It’s not the waking world, no.” Yukina replies thoughtfully, after a moment. “But not real?” She gazes up at the pillar and winds a strand of her hair around a finger. “Is a shadow less real than the object that casts it?”

Hiei snorts. Vague and unhelpful. “You sound like Kurama.” Hiei grumbles, hunching his shoulders.

Yukina smiles softly at him. “Now it’s my turn to ask. Why are you here?”

He pauses. Reality or not, he has no intention of revealing this secret. “I’m…looking for something. I need to get to the village. But this place keeps stopping me. Showing me things. Memories.”

“Maybe it’s trying to tell you something.”

“Maybe it’s trying to distract me.” He replies sharply. The influence behind the Hiruiseki’s corruption must also be the cause of these memories, Hiei is quite certain of that. Possibly this vision of Yukina, as well. He can’t let himself be sidetracked any longer. He turns his back to her.

“You don’t have to go back there, you know.”

Hiei stares out at the glacial village’s profile against the white sky. They’re close enough that he can make out details on the individual structures.

“You can leave.” Yukina continues to appeal. “Like I did.”

He takes another glance at his sister, at the travel cloak wrapped around her, at the trail in the snow she has left away from the village. Her gaze is earnest when he meets it, and real or not, it disarms him. “Where are you going?” He asks quietly.

She smiles at him again. “I don’t know. Isn’t that wonderful?”

Hiei isn’t sure how to respond to this. His gaze drifts behind her, to the grave marker looming stark against the backdrop of snow. “I need to go there.” He whispers as his eyes finally fall to the name etched across the grave.

Yukina dips her head. “I understand. I hope you find what you’re looking for.” She begins to turn away, but pauses to give him another glance from over her shoulder.  “you were right about them, you know.”

Hiei blinks at her. “What?”

She nods back toward the village. “The koorime. There’s nothing left of them.” She says, voice cold as the ice around them. “They might as well be dead.” With that she pulls up her hood and steps away.

Hiei stares after her, and immediately feels the wind pick up, as if her presence had been like a lantern holding back the dark. Snow whips in a fury around him, graying out her silhouette. The howling picks up, and Hiei just barely catches her voice on the wind.

“Goodbye, Brother…”

Hiei’s stomach drops - like the ground has vanished beneath his feet. Like he’s in freefall. “W-Wait!” He calls after her, and he’s hit with another gust that nearly sends him to the ground. “Yukina!” But he can’t make her out anymore, he can’t make anything out. And soon, everything is plunged into darkness.