Authors: Sam & Merrianna

Story: Dark Reunions: 2 of ?

Series: n/a

Feedback: Yes, please? Especially constructive. samwise_baggins@yahoo.co.uk

Webpage: http://www.oocities.org/samwise_baggins/index.html

"Seven o'clock. Okay." He glanced up from the piece of paper in his hand and looked around. Spotting the train station clock, he verified that he still had two hours to go. With a nod, he glanced back at the paper. "Okay, I'm here... now... where's here?"

While the man continued to study his paper, occasionally glancing around the platform, he was becoming steadily more aware of a growing sensation. It was like a tickling at the back of his mind... and in the bottom of his guts. He knew that feeling, got it pretty much all the time now, but this time it was screaming towards him, louder and louder... like a train out of control.

Train out of control?

With a sudden yelp, the six foot five redhead jumped backwards from the tracks, just as a red-train raced past. He hadn't heard the warning announcements, the binging sounds, or even the calls of the other people waiting around. It had been a near miss this time all because of the stupid mystery letter he'd been rereading. With a snort of disgust, he rammed it into a pocket of his uniform and glared at the now innocently empty tracks.

"Stupid letter. Stupid don't-know-guy dropping it on my desk. Man, when I find out who he was, I'll let him have it... nearly makin' me a pancake and all." The man turned his glare around the station platform, meeting quickly turning people. They wanted to avoid this nut cop who'd seemed to be playing dodge the trains.

"Okay... so, I'm here. And I'm alive. So, where's this stupid place s'posed to be? All I see is a bunch of trees and mountains and stuff."

Kazuma Kuwabara turned to start leaving the train station, if such a tiny platform could even claim such a title. He barely registered the people dodging out of his path. He was too intent on reading the kanji, trying to find his next location. "I hate treasure hunts… 'specially if I ain't getting any goodies at the end."

He'd already been to three different locations, on three different days, trying to meet up with whoever was dropping letters for him. The first had been on his desk at work, while he'd been out on beat. The next two had been at different train stations, in the form of notes left in his name at the information desk. A runny-nosed little girl in a torn dress and no shoes had handed this fourth note to him. She apparently didn't trust him enough to stick around to get a reward, because she'd run as quick as she could as soon as the paper left her fingers.

Glancing around at the unfamiliar dirt path, Kuwabara suddenly realized that he'd left the postage-stamp sized town behind while lost in thought. "Great, now where am I?"

A sad voice interrupted, "Yeah," the sound of a tragic sigh, "I know what that's like." Kuwabara whirled around only to see a sad looking man dressed in black and yellow walking away. The man heaved his over-sized travel pack back up his shoulder, scratched behind his bandana, and disappeared towards the train station.

Shaking his head at the odd intrusion, the twenty-five year old man heaved a sigh and glanced back towards the horizon, just able to make out a structure of some kind. He started trudging in that direction, frowning and muttering to himself about people he didn't know wanting him to go places he never heard of.

"When I get to this guy's house, I'm gonna beat him so bad, his mother'll run screamin'." That thought kept him satisfied, as he toyed with different ways to beat the unknown letter-giver to a pulp. When he next came to his senses, Kuwabara was standing outside of a rather rustic wooden structure. It was as run down as the rest of the town had been, and that didn't please the officer at all.

He looked around the area, casing it for any hidden dangers. Nothing outside was threatening, but when he turned his senses towards the building itself, his tingling spirit-sense nearly went off the charts. His eyes widened as he rocked back on his heels. "Whoa! How'd I miss that before?"

Kuwabara hunched a bit, right hand flexing as he studied the squat structure. "Yeah... that's pretty intense, all right. So... somebody gives me a stupid run-around to get here... and what? I gotta fight some big-powered weirdo or somethin'?" The policeman was never overly trusting about his surroundings; everything meant an eventual fight unless proven otherwise.

With another spirit-sensing of the place, Kuwabara nodded and headed for the back door, having long ago found out that front doors were well guarded. He wanted to sneak into this place and get the low-down before someone jumped out at him with the advantage of knowing the location. After all, he may still be a beat-cop after six years on the force, but he was one of the toughest cops ever seen in Tokyo. He wasn't about to let any unknown guy with that much spirit energy get the better of him.

As the tall man slipped onto the back stoop, he grinned to himself. His right hand was already tingling with the spirit energy he was channeling. At the merely hint of will, Kuwabara's spirit sword would jump out, as long as he wanted, ready for anything. Confidence surged through the officer and he felt indestructible.

It should have been a warning. Truly, he'd felt that way countless of times before being beaten within a few breaths of death. The situation was always the same, and yet Kazuma never seemed to learn, never seemed to retain any idea of the danger he was constantly placing himself in. But the man was over-confident, ready for anything… at least mentally. And so, he set himself up for a fall over and over... like now.

The place was quiet as Kuwabara checked the back window. It was dark, too. There was no sign of a living, breathing human anywhere in the cabin. A sound, like someone shuffling his feet, seemed to blast out from behind the man, sending the eager cop whirling around to face... nothing. It had been the rustling late-autumn leaves. With a frown, Kuwabara let his eyes and senses search the wooden hillside, just in case. He sensed nothing in that stretch of land. His eyes could see quite a distance, as well, since most of the trees were bare this close to the first biting winter snowfall. Shrugging, the man turned to the more important problem: the person inside.

A touch on the knob produced nothing more than he already sensed. However mentally slow Kuwabara usually was, he didn't relax at this indication of safety; he didn't believe it. Slowly, trying to remain as stealthy as possible, the redhead turned the tarnished piece of metal. It fortunately made no sound, and he grinned in anticipation, right hand flexing once more.

Then, the officer was slamming the door open, bringing his spirit sword into full effect. "Spirit Sword!" Both hands gripped the glowing yellow blade. He stood in the doorway, legs spread, knees partially bent, ready for what would come.

Or so he thought.

What actually came wasn't a screaming madman flying at him in stupid self-destruction. Nor was it a cowering hoodlum begging for mercy. It was nothing: not a sound, not a sight, not even a sense of the spirit energy he'd felt before. Everything was dark and blank. That sent a bigger chill up his spine. "Uh… where the energy go?"

"Right here, fool."

A blade of actual steal came down from above, barely slicing across Kuwabara's shoulder, leaving a trail of fiery pain. The cop gasped and pulled his sword over his head, instinctively trying to hit his still unseen assailant. He merely came in contact with the rotting wood of the mantle, bringing chips raining down upon his head. Another slice, across his right thigh this time, and the angry officer frantically swung his sword downwards, hoping to connect. He still missed.

"This guy's fast!" Kuwabara's surprised voice fell in the seemingly empty room. He whirled, suddenly sensing that blast of energy, but only caught the briefest flicker of a red energy signature before it was gone. The slicing fire crossed his lower back now.

"Get off! Where are ya? I'll find ya, so you better start running. I might even let you go if you beg me." Kuwabara stretched his vaunted senses into the room, trying... searching...

"Huh… as if I would need to beg anything from you. Obviously you've lost you're way. Go home."

The voice was clear and held heavy dislike, but it was certainly familiar to the twenty-five-year old. Now, instead of fear of an unknown attacker, Kuwabara was filled with a different reason to fight.

"You! You stole Yukina from me, an' no I'll make you sorry. Come here!" He swung his sword again, but contacted with nothing, fueling his anger more. This fight was unfair; his opponent was masking his energy, but soon... soon he'd make a mistake. Kuwabara was determined to win.

"Stole Yukina?" A sharp, sarcastic laugh rang out from the left, but the slicing pain came from the right once more. First his wrist, then his hip, were cut as the other man continued. "I cannot steal that which was never yours. You delude yourself."

Kuwabara felt rage pushing his actions, and he let it take control. Swinging, he felt the energy come close, but still it didn't hit. "Stay still and let me hit you, ya stupid midgit!"

A tap of pain, this time, to his lower back signaled a new fighting tactic by his opponent. "I don't think so. Only a great moron such as you would believe his opponent would stay still on command." The whisper of someone passing close alerted Kuwabara to the man's movements and he sung in that direction. Still he missed and now he was starting to tire.

With narrowed eyes, Kazuma tried to reach out with his senses and pinpoint the quick swordsman. He couldn't get past his feelings, though, and cried out instead. "You can't ever love her like I do, you freaky shrimp! Yukina loves me, an' I'll win her back. I don't care how fast you are!"

"Yukina barely knows you, dolt. Why would you assume she could love someone like you?"

The words cut worse than the sword across his left arm. He hated the supercilious tones, the superiority dripping from every syllable. With a mighty cry of anguish, Kuwabara blindly swung his sword in a crazed arch, calling out "Sword get long!" as he did so. He was uncaring of any damage he might do to the room in which he fought.

All was quiet.

Puzzled, bent over and panting, Kuwabara blindly turned his head back and forth. He hadn't hit anything, even the walls, with his mighty swing. That guy couldn't have known he'd do something like extend his energy and swing full circle, so how could he have escaped? The cop frowned, trying to puzzle through the events.

Suddenly, a sword was at his neck, the cold steel biting into his flesh. Kuwabara froze, knowing any action he took would mean his death; he had no delusions about his opponent's feelings on killing. He tried not to even swallow afraid his Adam's apple would be his downfall.

"I let you sense me. I even held my attacks to single moves. And still you fail to even make contact. You are pathetic." The voice came from in front of him.

Holding back a sigh, Kuwabara tried to move his body as little as possible when replying. His voice came out a raspy whisper. "Why don't ya just kill me if you're so keen on it, Hiei?" His voice might be low, but his anger was very much evident.

Heie laughed and stepped into the light of the open doorway. He didn't look amused, however, still holding his sword at a dangerous level. It was almost comical to see the four-foot-ten-inch apparition keeping the six-foot-five Kuwabara captive… but nobody laughed about it. When it came to life and death, Hiei never joked.

The two remained looking at each other for what seemed eternity to the cop. Neither moved; neither spoke. They simply stared, assessing each other. It had been ten years since last the pair had met... and it had felt even longer to the human.

Finally, slowly, Hiei withdrew his sword. He looked unconcerned as he sheathed it, as if Kuwabara was not a threat in the least. The shorter man looked up at the redhead and sneered. "You should go home. You have let yourself get even weaker than your original pathetic form. I am surprised you even step out of your door in that condition."

"Where's Yukina?" Kuwabara took a threatening step towards the smaller man, his anger still hot. He didn't care if his one-time ally had just allowed him life, didn't care if the apparition suddenly pulled the sword once more. He wanted to end this once and for all. "You were the last to see her… she left with you. What'd you do to her? What'd you tell her about me?"

Impatient, Hiei glared at the human before him. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his long coat, the bandana over his Jagan eye glowing a bare second before it stopped. "Yukina is in the Ice World, though why I'm telling you I have no idea. And I told her nothing about you… why would I even mention you?" He watched the man in contempt, waiting for something Kuwabara didn't even sense.

Kazuma paused. Ice World? He... took her to her home? "Oh," was all he could think of to say. With a frown, he let his sword dissolve, straightening up. Still wondering what had happened to his love over the past ten years, Kuwabara contented himself, instead, with asking the second most important question on his list: the one that had been driven away once he'd realized who he was fighting. "So, uh, why'd you send me all those stupid letters, then? Did you miss me?"

"Not likely." Hiei glared at Kuwabara and turned to flick on a light switch. The room that was illuminated proved to be as rustic as the outside of the building promised. It contained a great deal of split firewood, and had a door leading presumably into the rest of the building. It was amazing that neither opponent had come into contact with anything during their battle, the room was so cramped. "I did not send you any letters."

Wait a minute... Kuwabara shook his head, puzzling over that one. Suddenly, on inspiration, he grinned as if catching Hiei in a lie. "Well, if you didn't send me the letters, how'd you know I'd be here?" The cop crossed his arms, smugness radiating from every pore.

With a shake of his head, the smaller man headed for the inside door. "I didn't. Nor did I care. I came here in reply to a message, nothing more, nothing less. The same person probably sent you your letters." He didn't even glance back as he disappeared inside the main living area.

The redhead followed him inside, frowning and scratching his head while he tried to make sense of things.