Broken We don’t know a whole lot about her. Except that her name’s Miyomi. She’s a lower A-Class, who used to work for Mukuro, keeping to the shadows, never truly in sight of her superiors. She never made any friends - in fact, quite the opposite: the few people she did come into contact with had only unpleasant things to say about her; it was as if she were trying to cultivate enemies. She had disappeared around the end of the Makai Tournament, and few missed her presence. Then, a few years later, she returned, and began her campaign. She’d made some sort of bargain with some sort of higher power; some S-Class youkai who was bitter and angry with all three worlds in general, who jumped at the chance to pay everyone back for wrongs long since forgotten by everyone but him. And then, somehow, she had taken over; in the beginning, he had been in charge, using his immense power to persuade others to fight for them, and to destroy those who stood in his way. But, little by little, Miyomi had begun to assert her control. She isn’t very powerful, by any means - in a one-on-one power struggle, even someone like Kuwabara, who has no advantage of a youkai heritage, could probably defeat her. But she’s smart. Very smart. And manipulative. And she’s got a stage presence like no one else in all history. She used the youkai to begin taking over chunks of Mukuro’s territory; like a sampler, nibbling bits and pieces off of something until it had grown into a sizable amount. Then, she moved her campaign to the Ningenkai, and the Reikai. That was when others had begun taking notice. Koenma had sent in all the teams of the Reikai-Tantei to handle the problem; there were more than I’d ever imagined there would be. Some of them had stories similar to mine - repaying a debt to the Reikai in the only way they could - or they were ghosts; spirits given a solid form, like Botan’s, because they either did not want rebirth, or had been through the cycle too many times. As one of the most powerful teams, we had been sent out first. Miyomi had not appeared herself, but she had sent her lackey - the S-Class that she had so thoroughly used - and a small team of mindless creatures who resembled a perverted cross between a bear, a panther, and an eagle. They were vicious fighters, and half of them pulled each other down before they had even come close to reaching us. They all had a fanatic gleam in their eyes - there was no meeting them halfway. Only when the last one was dead, could we leave the battlefield. The S-Class hadn’t died, that day. He’d fled, when we killed the last of the fighters. Ever since then, it’s been the same: fighting these fierce, bloodthirsty creatures, who never give up until they’ve been killed. And sometimes, not even that stopped them - I’ve never been one for overkill, but in the past few years, I’ve learned it’s the only real way to deal with these bastards. I’d seen other teams who’d failed to do that die under the claws and teeth of those things; their screams and bloody faces haunt my dreams, every night. When they finally managed to break the barrier into the Ningenkai, hell broke loose. Humans died by the thousands, ripped to shreds by Miyomi’s troops; entire cities had been destroyed under their steady advance. For the first time in centuries, humans believed in demons, and cowered in the thought of their power. The remaining teams followed, and even though we were now on our own turf, it was obvious we were fighting a losing battle. My mother had died in the first attack. I had come home to check on her, and found the apartment completely destroyed; when I looked into her room, all I could see was red everywhere, and the huge, hulking creature bent over some fallen form; all I could hear were the wet, crunching sounds as the sharp teeth tore into human flesh ... I don’t remember much of what happened after that. Kurama says I must’ve blanked it out, because when they found me, I had been lying in a huge crater; apparently, my rage had boosted my power enough to destroy the entire block. Even if that hadn’t been my mother under the creature; even if she had managed to get lucky, and escape to another building, she was dead, now. Miyomi, you bitch. Enma Diaoh has refused to interfere, despite his son’s pleading. The Lord of the Dead insists that this entire bloody war has been foreordained, and he will not take the chance in changing the future. He sits, locked up in his throne room, brooding as the rest of the Reikai scurries to keep up with the vast amounts of death, the new souls pouring in faster than they can be processed. Botan and her fellows are being overworked; even trainees like Hinageshi are being used, and even they are being run ragged. It’s been nearly five years since her first attack, and we still don’t know a whole lot about her. Mukuro has not been very helpful whenever we question her; Miyomi had been very skillful at keeping out of her way. We’ve only seen her once, two years ago, when her armies had first breached the barriers and entered the Ningenkai. She’s pretty. We’ll give her that much. Cold-hearted, manipulative, pretty bitch. There are only seven teams left, my own included. Like the ferrygirls, we’re being overworked, and no matter how hard we try, over fifty percent of the attacks are successful, leaving behind more death and destruction in their wake. We are scattered all over the world, trying to protect the few remaining countries that are still resisting of Miyomi’s presence, and trying to free those who have fallen under it. But it’s not enough.
It’s never enough. I look up as a sound catches my attention; I have been sitting here, in this abandoned building that my friends and I have designated as our "home base", for nearly half an hour now. The others are out, investigating some disturbance; they are not due back for nearly two more hours. We shelter a few lucky - or, perhaps, unlucky - humans here, in this broken apartment complex, as well. Kuwabara’s sister, Shizuru, Genkai-baasan, some of Keiko’s friends from school, Kuwabara’s old gang (well, two of them, anyway - Ookubo is dead), Keiko, and Yukina. They serve as our hospital; when one of us is hurt, we bring him in to be cared for by them. There is a haunted, grieving look in Keiko’s eyes I have never wanted to see there. And the same goes for Yukina. They were both so damn innocent, when this whole thing began, and now they have seen enough death and violence to cover fifty lifetimes. I stand, and adopt a fighting position. Even if the intruders are friendly, I cannot take the chance. There are innocents here, and I will not let them be hurt without a fight. Damn. One of Miyomi’s little "pets" - the nickname Kuwabara had given to the creatures that made up the bulk of her troops. It’s a good five feet taller than I am, and has long, deformed arms that trail along the ground as it walks. It makes little whuffling noises in the back of its throat, as it moves forward. I tense further, gathering my ki. It sees me, and freezes. The entire world seems to stand still. And then, we both move. We leap towards each other; my fists are glowing, and its claws are extended. Slimy yellow saliva drips from its fangs as it flies through the air; the wind seems to whistle painfully loudly in my ears. It’s definitely not one of my smarter moves, but I’m desperate. Keiko and Yukina are still within the building; if this bastard got its hands on either of them ... ... I’d never be able to forgive myself ... When we connect, I can feel the air being driven out of my lungs, and the bones in my hands crack as they encounter the creature’s plated belly. I ignore the pain, and concentrate, sending a burst of ki through the creature’s body. Like an electric shock, it courses through the beast with visible blue-white ripples, before it pulls away and lands on all fours, panting and staring distrustfully at me. I return with a fierce grin, and refocus my ki, feeling my power burn through my broken hands. I’ll fight like one of them. Overkill will be the only way to stop me. That thought reassures me, and gives me strength as I point a fist at the thing - my fingers refuse to move - and focus. I’ve never done this before; I had seen someone else do this, before, but I have never attempted it myself. Well, they say there’s a first time for everything. "REI-GAAAAN!!!!!!" My voice is hoarse and echoes loudly in the large room; its head snaps up at my shout, and it watches, dumbly, as the power surges from my first and heads straight for it. The ki-ball slams directly into its face, sending it tumbling backwards with a howl of pain. My fierce smile is beginning to hurt my face, but I pay no heed, readying myself for one more attack. In the background, I can hear Keiko’s terrified voice. I want to turn to her and comfort her, but I cannot risk turning my back on this thing until it is dead. It staggers to its feet again, and snarls, clawing at its burned face. There is pure, venomous hatred in the remaining violet eye, and it pins me in place. With a growl, it begins to lope towards me, raising one clawed hand high into the air. It bears down, ready for the kill - "Yamete!" A woman’s voice echoes in the air, commanding and loud, and abruptly, the creature stops, skidding as its forward momentum propels it forward a few more steps. It lowers its claws, and nearly collapses on the ground. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it was bowing - Oh, shit. Bowing. Miyomi’s pets bow to only one. I raise my eyes from the creature’s prone form, and stare. I think my jaw has dropped, but I can’t tell, for sure. Yup. It’s really her. Or, at least, it sure as hell looks like her. My memories of her, at any rate. Not that I wouldn’t given anything to forget her. I’d cut off my own arm if I could erase the memory of all the destruction she’s caused from the three worlds. Keiko gasps, in the background, but I ignore it; my attention is solely fixed on the youkai woman who is responsible for all the hell and pain that all the three worlds have suffered, these past five years. She smiles back at me, and crosses her arms under her breasts, then tosses her head, almost coyly. It makes me sick, this parody of a schoolgirl’s shy stare. I snarl, and clench a fist. I’m ready to throw another ki-blast at her, but before I can, she holds up one small hand, and steps forward. The dying sun’s rays illuminates her like a spotlight, making her dark violet hair glow like a dark halo. Coupled with her pretty face, it makes her look like an angel, descending from heaven to save the wretched. That’s a laugh. I’d never known how much appearances could deceive. Until now, that is. It’s all I can do from leaping at her, and trying to claw her face; I want to make her outside appearance resemble the twisted interior. All the people that I had believed I’d hated in the past - Suzaku, for trying hurting Keiko; Toguro, for killing Baasan; even Raizen, for making me what I was ... what I felt for them was nothing, in the face of the white-hot anger that filled me at the sight of this fucking bitch. Her laughter draws my thoughts back to the present. I stare at my hands, surprised; somehow, I had assumed the position of my Rei-Gun while my thoughts had been wandering. She seems amused by my automatic response, and throws back her head; while she does, I carefully aim, right at the vulnerable spot where her jugular should be ... Before I can respond, she makes a quick sweeping motion, and I am swept off my feet - literally - and sent flying backwards, through the small group that has gathered behind me, to slam into the wall. The breath is forced out of me in a whoosh, and my teeth slice open the inside of my cheek, filling my mouth with the sour, acidic taste of blood. I hear Keiko’s concerned voice, and feel her small hands on my arm, shaking me in concern. But her voice is nothing, nothing at all, compared to the grating, continuous sound of Miyomi’s laughter. I push myself to my feet, and stagger, opening my eyes to glare at her. At times like this, I wish looks could kill. Then, Miyomi would be only a pile of ashes before us, and nothing more than a horrible, horrible memory. "If wishes were horses, beggars would ride." That’s something someone smart, like Kurama, might say in reply to that. Right now, I don’t give a damn. All I can focus on is her, and my hatred. She finally, finally stops laughing, and gives me a narrow-eyed look. And her smile widens. She makes a sharp, quick gesture, and her pet lumbers forward, its mad, golden eyes focused on me. Her voice comes in a short, high-pitched command, and it jerks, as if physically shocked. Keiko whimpers, and her hands tighten on my arm. "They’re going to try and take you," she whispers, her lips close to my ear. "Ah." I still don’t pay too much attention. She presses close to me. "I won’t let them," she tells me, in a low, determined voice. Her words surprise me, and I turn to stare at her. The years have changed my Keiko into something different. Those same brown eyes that used to be so soft and innocent are hard and angry, now; they bore into me with an uncomfortable intensity. "Keiko, this isn’t the time -" "Shut up." Her voice is still low, and very angry. "I’m not letting you go alone. Whatever happens ... we’re together, remember? We’ll always be together ..." Towards the end, she trails off, looking uncertain. I smile grimly at her, and nod, slightly. "Keiko, you’re out of your mind." Before she can react, I have moved, and she makes no sound when my fingers press the pressure spot on her neck, causing her to slide downwards. I catch her before she hits the ground, and lower her gently all the way, then turn to glare. Miyomi smiles, one hip thrust outwards in a sultry pose. It reminds me of some of the poisonous flowers Kurama once showed me, years and years ago. Like those flowers then, her beauty makes me sick. "You," she purrs, pointing at me. "I’ve heard a great deal about you." I force myself to smile wider; it hurts my face. "Keh. Lots of people have. That doesn’t make you particularly special." Her face darkens, and for a moment, my smile feels more genuine. Then she smirks again, and my face feels wooden. "I like you," she adds, for good measure, reaching up and twirling a few strands of hair around one slim finger, her gaze speculative. "You’re cute." It’s all I can do, not to shudder. Before - years before - I might’ve taken it for the compliment it seemed to be, but coming from her, my most hated enemy, it makes me sick to my stomach. "I want you to come with me," she continues, her voice lowering into a seductive murmur. "I’ve heard so much of what you’ve done, against my pets ..." she reaches out with one small hand, and pets the top of the head of the creature at her side. It whines, anxiously, shifting its weight, and she looks up at me again. The smile fails, and turns into a dark scowl. "Bitch." "To the contrary," she says, sweetly, raising a hand with beringed fingers and wiggles her fingers at me. "I have no trace of canine blood in my veins. I’m purebred." "Purebred bitch," I snarl, angrily. At my words, her eyes darken, and become hard, and colder than anything I have ever seen or faced before in my life. With a sharp, mechanical gesture of her arm, she speaks to her pet, in a clipped, professional voice. "Get him." It snarls, and leaps at me. I’m ready for it; my fist glows with my rei-ki as I meet it halfway, and when I connect with its stomach, the sickening stench of burning fur fills the air. "Botan! Get Keiko and the others OUT of here!" I snarl, without looking at either of the clustered girls behind me. I barely hear her frightened affirmative, as a huge hand comes down on my head, sharp claws piercing my skin. The blood that trickles down my face is hot and cold at the same time, and doesn’t feel much different from sweat. Pain comes from the puncture wounds, but I ignore it, and draw my hand back, ready to strike again. I - will - not - lose! There is a scream, and a
sudden, throbbing burst of pain, and before I can react,
everything goes black. pain darkness voices presence touches someone close by more pain ... keiko ... ... help me ... Miyomi stepped back, eyeing the boy’s limp body with a critical eye; in one hand, she held a small, glass syringe, half-full of some bubbling, sickly yellow-green liquid that gave an audible hiss, as it bubbled against the narrow, concave walls of the needle. At her side, one of her pets snarled and whined, pawing at the limp figure. With a casual backhand motion, she sent a bolt of dark blue energy that struck with the force of a whip; the creature wailed pitifully and hunched in on itself, away from her. The same smell of burning flesh and fur filled the air, and she inhaled deeply, closing her eyes and smiling. The seeds were planted. Now, all she had to do was step back, and see if her experiment worked. She had her choice of nearly any and all inhabitants of the three worlds, but this one young child had drawn her. He was only a fraction of her age, yet he had the power to destroy her, if he’d been allowed to continue his campaign against her. Her lips curled in a small, smirking grin. His strength would make him an interesting plaything. He would last a long, long time before she finally broke him. The idea made her smile in anticipation, and she studied the needle in her hand again. He would fight her every step of the way, that fierce fighting soul resisting her attempts to change him into what she wanted. It would be fun, when she finally destroyed him. She turned as the boy lying on the ground before her stirred, groaning deep in his throat and shifting, bringing his face into the light. The blood had begun to dry and flake off, and there was the dark suggestion of bruises on his cheeks, over one eye, and trailing down his throat. And despite that, he was still a very cute young man. With a light, careful hand, Miyomi tapped the syringe against her own cheek. Yes, he would be lots of fun, indeed. |