Kurama had been taken away from him, he knew that much. Exactly how, he could not tell; Reikaze's minions had been swift and accurate, and all A-class youkai.

She'd done this to him once before, he remembered, had drained his strength, had warded his Jagan, had kept him lying perfectly still in agonising pain --

He heard movement; the door slid open; he heard a small gasp. "Shuuichi?" Hiei clenched his jaw, wished Humans were telepathic. Shiori moved closer to the bed. "H-hiei-kun," she stammered, whispering. "Nan da?"

Kneeling, she pulled off the ward; Hiei leaped to his feet with a snarl, looking around the room. Shiori shrieked and stumbled backward, staring at him. "When did you get here?" she demanded. "Why are you here?"

He moved to step off the futon, felt something roll against his foot; he looked down, spotted a small sphere. He grabbed it, looked angrily about for a space on the wall, smashed the sphere against it. The image of Reikaze's face formed where the sphere had struck. Shiori made a small frightened sound; he silenced her with a look, then turned back to the image.

"Hiei," it spoke in Reikaze's voice, "I'm sorry I had to contact you in this manner. Since you are obviously going to be stubborn about this, I thought I might allow your little friend to lend his persuasion to the argument. He will be released as soon as you agree to come to me on my terms, and you know what those terms are. I will not force you to stay with me, but neither can I allow you to refuse. I guarantee that if you do agree to remain with me, the youko will be alive when released. I make no promises about his continued health or state of well-being in the meantime." Hiei ground his teeth, feeling his aura rise around him. "Juei and I are looking forward to seeing you again," Reikaze's image finished, and then faded. Hiei stared at the wall for several moments, then turned to look at Shiori. She blinked rapidly, turned to him.

"I don't understand what's happening," she said. "Who was that? _What_ was that? Why did you come here?"

"Long story," Hiei growled. She reached up and clasped his hand in both hers.

"Was she talking about Shuuichi? Is he in danger?" Hiei looked down at her hands, wondered what his own mother's hands were like.

"Uhn."

"He told me," she said, "about you two. Has this to do with that?"

"Indirectly."

"Please tell me," she pleaded. He watched her for several minutes. "If my son is in danger," Shiori went on, her hands tightening on his, "I want to know exactly why." Her eyes hardened slightly, as though daring him to admit blame for the situation. Hiei nearly smiled.

Humans were often interesting to observe, if nothing else.

He lifted a hand, and realised with a swift sinking of his stomach that he was unable to summon you-ki. He closed his eyes and concentrated; in a moment his eyes snapped open, and he tried desperately to suppress panic.

"You're awake." He whirled, felt a smile cross his face.

"Hiei," he exclaimed, relieved, "you're here. I -- " Hiei stepped away, avoiding his outstretched hands, and Kurama frowned.

"The cell is warded," Hiei told him smoothly, with the quirky half-smile that he normally reserved for worthy opponents. "You won't be able to summon any plants, demonic or otherwise. Your you-ki has been drained, and it will continue to be drained via several well-placed spells in the cell." The smile broadened slightly, showed Hiei's sharp little fangs. "None of which, of course, you can see, being Human."

"Hiei," Kurama swallowed, "what the hell are you doing? What's going on?" Hiei took a step toward him, drew his sword and in a half-second had pressed the blade against Kurama's throat.

"This," he said softly, "is mine." With a quick turn of his wrist he tugged the sword toward himself and Kurama felt the fine chain around his neck give way. Hiei's hand shot out, and he held up his tear gem, watched it sparkle. Kurama opened his mouth to protest; Hiei disintegrated the gem and the chain from which it dangled, with a quick hot flame. He smirked again.

"You bastard," Kurama breathed. "Why the hell did you do that?"

"You have too many ties," Hiei told him. "To me, to the Ningenkai. It's about time you learned to let go. First of all, to let go of me."

"No," Kurama spoke softly. "You -- you _aren't_ Hiei. I don't know how you look like him and sound like him, but you _aren't_ him." He needed no you-ki to tell him this; he simply knew Hiei far too well. He crouched defensively, glaring at the impostor. "What have you done with him? Why did you bring me here?" Hiei laughed, leaped toward him, flashed behind him, grabbed a fistful of Kurama's hair and wrapped it around his wrist, yanking Kurama back and down, forcing him to his knees.

"What makes you think you know me so well, kitsune?" Hiei murmured into his ear, drawing the sword's fine blade across Kurama's throat. A trickle of blood crept over his collarbone, and Kurama closed his eyes, thinking desperately.

Before he could move to defend himself he was hauled back again by his hair, exposing his throat; the sword swung up and then arced down. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, awaiting death; he wondered how long it would take him to resurrect. He felt the blade touch his skin, heard the snick as it sliced through and touched the metal floor, and he was surprised that he felt no real pain.

For the first time in months, Reikaze had not taken care to ensure that Juei's essence was incomplete. The spell that drained her you-ki and kept her a prisoner on her bed had weakened enough for Juei to finally weave her own spell, and she would soon be free.

She would be able to find her father, to show him who and what she was, to let him decide whether or not he wanted her. Her stomach tightened in excitement and fear at the thought. She had never actually seen him in person, but what she had learned of him through the projections that Reikaze had created made her long to meet him for real, to see and touch and hear him, for herself.

Returning her mind to the present, Juei took a moment to orient herself, and reached out with her you-ki to sense Reikaze, to sense the goings-on in the palace.

She frowned, swallowed, sat down on the bed again. She hadn't expected Reikaze to kidnap her father's lover. This would complicate things; from what she had seen of their relationship -- very little, admitted, though the lover seemed quite viciously jealous -- Hiei would have no interest in anyone, much less his long-lost daughter, while the youko was a captive.

Reluctantly, regretfully, Juei lifted her feet and swung her legs back up on the bed. She lay down with her head on the pristine white pillow, and closed her eyes, forming plans in her head, reforming them, discarding some and creating new ones.

Reaching out with her thoughts again, she sought her father's youko lover, and opened her eyes, startled, when she came up against the dead cold of a mind without thought. She felt her guts turn to water, and tried desperately not to cry. She did not want Reikaze coming in to snatch up her tear gems. She needed time alone, to think, to plan.

How could she face her father, after this?

"My son," she murmured, "is not my son. Not even _Human_."

"That's not it," he sighed. "He's your son. He's Human. He's just...he's got the soul of a youko. An old one."

"I don't understand," she went on. "Why me? Why did he come to me?"

"You were there," Hiei replied with an impatient shrug. "How'm I supposed to know? Ask him -- "

"I hardly know who he is," she sighed. "If he is this -- youko -- then who is the boy I know as my son?"

"They're the same person," he snapped. "He's just living in the Human body, for now."

"But a youko -- "

"Is a fox," he ground his teeth. "He has six tails, in that form. He has another form, with one tail and fox ears and silver hair and golden eyes. He has his Human form, that looks the way you know him. They're all Kurama -- "

"Kurama," she murmured, looking up at him. "Is that his -- youko name?"

"That's his name," Hiei agreed.

"Wh-what about -- "

"Shuuichi," he said irritably, "is his Human name. He answers to it. He accepts that identity as part of himself. He'll get an extra tail, I'm sure, for living out his life as a Human. Are you going to be all right if I leave you alone?"

"Are you a youko, too?" she asked, blinking.

"I am Koorime," he told her. "Youko aren't -- " He grimaced. "Youko aren't like me."

"My husband," she said, reaching out and grabbing his hand, "will be home in a few days."

"I can't promise I'll have him back by then."

"Hiei-kun," she pleaded, "will you at least promise to bring him home?" He pulled his hand away from her.

"Uhn," he replied, and flashed out the window before she could say anything else.

Damned Humans, he told himself for the second time that day. They talked too much, needed too much, had far too many ties to one another.

He discovered momentarily that he was unconsciously headed in search of Yuusuke; he did not, however, change his course. Yuusuke looked up from his work as Hiei came into view. "Hiei," he said, calm.

"Kurama's been kidnapped," Hiei told him matter-of-factly. "I'm going to the Makai to get him."

"You want me to help?" Yuusuke asked, eagerly.

"Do as you like," Hiei shrugged. Yuusuke gave him a thumbs up.

"I'll find you there," he called, as Hiei left him.

He went into the Makai, and headed to Reikaze's palace.

Since he'd met Hiei.

Hiei had always loved his hair, had taken great pleasure in brushing it for him, in braiding it sometimes, in hiding his face in it after they'd made love. It had been Hiei's suggestion, so long ago, that he simply stop cutting it, and so no blade had touched his hair in years.

Why, then, had he chopped it off?

It hadn't been Hiei, Kurama scolded himself. Hiei would never have done this to him, would never have needed to keep him in a warded cell, his you-ki drained. Hiei would never have bothered to cut him with his deadly blade, to strike his every limb, until every movement was painful. If Hiei had wanted no more to do with him, he would simply have left, and Kurama would never have seen him again -- it would have hurt Kurama more than any physical wound, and Hiei knew that.

He looked down at his palm. The sword had pierced it through, severing muscle and tendon as well as flesh, and the hand was useless to him. His other hand had been similarly damaged. He hadn't the strength to tear his clothes to fashion bandages; and he certainly couldn't heal himself.

Kurama pressed his face against the cold metal wall and closed his eyes.