Author's Note: The plot bunny which started this fanfic hopped my way as I wrote Second Star to the Right, a Hiei and Kurama double drabble in which their relationship is likened to that of Peter Pan and Wendy (found in chapter 5 of my fanfic Dabbling in Drabbling). It wasn’t a crossover per se, but it got me thinking about writing one. The existence of this fic owes a lot to TheKitsuneObsessedGirl, who encouraged me to write it, although I think the way she imagined it going down is a lot different to the way it’s turned out xD
This isn’t a traditional crossover in the sense of “the cast from one fandom meets the cast from another and hijinks ensue”, nor is it quite a crossover in the mould of “the cast from one fandom in the roles and universe of another”, which is my preferred way of doing crossovers. Instead the plot, universe and characters are a fusion of Peter Pan, Yu Yu Hakusho and my own ideas, rolled together and mixed up whatever way I think fits best. It’s set partly in the London of J.M. Barrie’s time, partly in a hybrid mix of Neverland and the demon world. The basic concept is of the Peter Pan story but as the plot goes on it will probably become more original, maybe with bits of Yu Yu Hakusho plotlines thrown in. The characters are all Yu Yu, cast roughly in the roles of Peter Pan characters. Basically what I’m saying is, don’t be surprised (or flame me) if it turns out not to be what you’d expect from a Peter Pan/YYH crossover, but I hope that it makes an enjoyable story all the same. I’ve had a ton of fun thinking this up and writing this, so I hope it’s fun to read.
Disclaimer: Peter Pan is the creation of J.M. Barrie and the property of Great Ormond Street Hospital (who operated on me when I was ill with pneumonia at 16 months, so thanks guys. You pretty much saved my life). Yu Yu Hakusho is the creation and the property of Yoshihiro Togashi. Some other bodies may own the rights as well, but I’m not sure who they all are. Suffice to say I don’t own either of these fandoms, and am borrowing the characters and concepts for entertainment purposes only.
London, 1910
“Tell me just one more story, please!” ten-year-old Shuichi begged his brother Kurama before bedtime.
Kurama smiled, reclining on the window-seat beside Shuichi’s bed. “All right, one more.” His green eyes glittered mischievously. “How about the story of… the legendary bandit Hiei Jaganshi?”
“Yes!” Shuichi threw himself back against the pillows in excitement.
“Once there was a boy-”
“A demon,” interrupted Shuichi.
“Yes, a demon, but you oughtn’t to know that yet from the story. Once there was a demon by the name of Hiei Jaganshi. He had glowing red eyes, spiky black hair, and a black cloak that whipped behind him as he ran. When he ran, he ran so fast it was almost like flying, thanks to his supernatural speed. In spite of his short stature-”
“I know what he looks like,” Shuichi interrupted again, petulantly. “You always spend forever on his description. I want to hear about his adventures!”
Kurama waited a moment or two, then continued as if Shuichi hadn’t spoken. “In spite of his short stature, his enemies all feared him, for they knew that he was lightning-fast with a sword and deadly accurate.” Shuichi’s eyes lit up at the mention of fighting. “And the fiercest of all those enemies were…”
“The dread pirate Sakyo and his henchmen, the Toguro brothers!” Shuichi finished with excitement. “Tell the story where-”
But Kurama never heard which of Hiei Jaganshi’s many adventures Shuichi wanted him to relate, for at that moment the nursery door opened.
“Boys! Are you still awake?” Their mother Shiori looked sternly at Kurama. “Shuichi’s bedtime was half an hour ago. You mustn’t be telling him any more of those gruesome Hiei Jaganshi stories. They’ll give him nightmares.”
“Mother! I’m ten years old,” said Shuichi in exasperation. “I won’t have nightmares from a bedtime story.”
“Oh, is that how old you are?” Shiori asked with an amused smile. “I do forget, sometimes, when you act so much younger.”
Shuichi guiltily hid his teddy-bear underneath the bedcovers.
“To bed, both of you,” said Shiori with another admonishing glance at Kurama.
Kurama got up from the window seat and walked over to his bed. “Yes, mother. Good night, mother.”
“Good night,” Shiori said, and closed the bedroom door.
Outside, her husband had been listening to the exchange. “You know, Shiori, this wouldn’t keep happening every night if Kurama had his own room. He’s already fifteen – far too old to still be sleeping in a nursery with his younger brother! We can easily create the space. I think it would encourage both of them to grow up a bit.”
Shiori smiled sadly. “Yes, I suppose it would.” She knew it was silly, but she loved to see her two boys getting along so well still, even at what should have been a difficult age for Kurama. She found Shuichi’s childishness and Kurama’s elaborate flights of fancy endearing. Unlike her husband, she was in no hurry to see either of them grow up.
Back in the nursery, a chill breeze blew through the room, and Shuichi huddled down inside his blankets. “Kurama! You forgot to close the window,” he complained.
Kurama groaned and rolled over. “And I suppose it would be too much trouble for you to do it?”
“You opened it.” Shuichi’s voice was muffled against the pillow. “If you leave it open, Hiei Jaganshi will come and steal you away.”
Kurama sighed and got up, walked over to the window and made a big show of closing it. But at the bottom he left a tiny crack, just enough for a set of nimble fingers to slide under and open it.
He didn’t want Shuichi to know that was exactly what he hoped would happen.
Some time later, Kurama woke up. The nightlight that Shiori always lit at bedtime had burned out, and the nursery was shrouded in darkness. He shivered inside his blankets; for some reason the nursery felt a lot colder than it had when he’d gone to bed. He rolled over and came face-to-face with a pair of glowing red eyes.
Kurama gasped. The figure moved, flitting away to the middle of the nursery floor, standing in the pool of moonlight that surrounded the window. He moved so fast it was almost instantaneous. Kurama stared against the silhouette outlined against the moonlight. Glowing red eyes… spiky black hair… movement so fast it’s like he can fly. “Hiei Jaganshi,” Kurama breathed.
The red eyes narrowed, and Hiei flickered away again, reappearing crouched on the windowsill. “Wait!” Kurama found himself flinging aside the bedcovers and running across the nursery floor. The window was wide open, and his long red hair stirred in the slight breeze. Hiei stared at him impassively.
“What are you doing here?” Kurama murmured, mindful of Shuichi’s proximity to the window. “Did you really come to see me?” A thought struck him suddenly. “Is it because I told your stories to my brother? Is it because I believed you were real?”
“Hn,” was Hiei’s only response. He turned and prepared to jump from the window.
“Don’t!” In desperation, Kurama grabbed at the silky black fabric that trailed behind Hiei – and found himself holding something that wasn’t cloth.
“Let go of me,” Hiei ordered angrily, glaring daggers at Kurama over his shoulder. His voice was deeper than Kurama had expected. Isn’t he supposed to never age?
“Tell me why you came,” Kurama shot back.
“Let go of my shadow.”
His… Shadow? Kurama looked down in bewilderment at the dark substance between his fingers. It was smooth and slippery, like very fine silk, but it flowed and dripped over his hands like water. Somehow the idea that he could be holding a shadow boggled his mind more than the fact that the hero of his night-time stories really existed. Nevertheless, he wound his fingers more tightly in it, not wanting to let go of the only bit of leverage he had.
Hiei braced himself against the window. “Let. Go.”
“No.” Kurama tugged back.
Their jostling knocked the window shutter, which abruptly slid down with a bang. Kurama staggered backwards, and found that he was holding the limp, dark form of Hiei’s severed shadow. He stared at it in horror, and then ran to the window. Hiei had disappeared.
“Kurama?” came Shuichi’s sleepy voice. “What’re you doing over there?” The bang of the window closing must have finally woken his deeply slumbering brother.
“Nothing, Shuichi. I dropped a candlestick, that’s all,” Kurama reassured him. He bent down and pretended to search on the ground for a fallen object. “Go back to sleep.”
Shuichi’s head lolled against the pillow and he was soon breathing deeply. He probably wouldn’t remember anything of it in the morning.
But Kurama did. As soon as he woke up, the details of his late-night encounter came flooding back to him. He couldn’t resist glancing out of the window to see if he could catch sight of a small demonic figure. Of course, there was nothing.
He waited until Shuichi had gone down to breakfast, and then opened the bottom drawer in the heavy oak chest of drawers that stood near the nursery drawer. There lay Hiei’s shadow, like one of Mother’s black chiffon scarves for elegant wear. It was all the proof he needed that last night’s events hadn’t all been part of some crazy dream.
Kurama dwelt on the encounter all throughout lessons, his head full of Hiei’s quick movements and intense red gaze. School was such a straightforward affair that he completed most of his work on autopilot without any of his teachers realising that he wasn’t paying attention. Finally though, he was caught out during the last lesson of the day. He gradually became aware of his fellow classmates sniggering all around him, and his Arithmetic teacher Mr. Shipton watching him with amusement.
“Awake now are we, Mr. Minamino?” asked Mr. Shipton as Kurama looked up guiltily. “Has our resident prodigy finally given up all pretence of paying attention?”
Kurama flushed in embarrassment. “No, Sir. I apologise, Sir.”
“Can anyone give me the answer to the sum? Mr. Kaito?”
Once the attention of the class had been drawn away from him again, Kurama bent his head over his copybook, embellishing the almond-shaped pair of eyes that he’d been doodling on the back page. He was unaware of the annoyed gaze of Yuu Kaito boring into the back of his head.
The tedious day finally drew to a close and Kurama made for the door, intent on getting home as quickly as possible. But before he could escape the confines of the classroom, he was cornered by his bespectacled classmate Kaito. “Just a minute, Minamino.”
Out of the hundred or so boys of various ages in their secondary school, only Yuu Kaito could be called Kurama’s intellectual equal. The two were rivals of sorts, although Kurama never openly admitted to competing against Kaito; but he privately did his best to make sure his marks stayed on top. For his part, Kaito made no secret of his dislike for and competition with Kurama, taking every opportunity available to create conflict. Ironically, in spite of his efforts not to draw attention to himself, Kurama was more widely known as the school’s top student and “resident prodigy” (to coin Mr. Shipton’s phrase). It incensed Kaito no end.
“I’m curious as to what was keeping the “Great Minamino”’s mind so thoroughly occupied during today’s lessons,” said Kaito, as Kurama reluctantly turned towards him. “I’ve never before known you to pass up an opportunity for demonstrating your mathematical skill.”
“Hiei Jaganshi,” said Kurama absently. He was too preoccupied to be careful of what he said to Kaito; besides, maybe the truth would get rid of him faster.
Kaito looked visibly taken aback; then he scoffed. “The fairytale character? What unbelievable nonsense. With your head so firmly in the clouds it’s a wonder you even know what day it is,” he said scornfully.
Kurama looked at him. Kaito seemed to be waiting for some sort of response, but when none was forthcoming, he simply said, “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
“Goodbye,” said Kurama.
That night, after Shiori had lit the nightlight and bidden the boys goodnight, Kurama crawled to the end of his bed. “Shuichi! Want to hear the rest of the Hiei Jaganshi story I was telling you?” he whispered.
Shuichi immediately disappeared under his covers and tunnelled to the end of the bed, emerging flushed and tousle-haired on the other side. “But didn’t Mother say not to?”
Kurama shook his head dismissively. “She worries too much. We both know that a little story isn’t going to give you nightmares, especially since I’ve been telling them to you for years.”
Shuichi’s eyes lit up. His older brother wasn’t often one to deliberately break the rules set down by their mother. “Yes! Okay, tell me the story.”
Kurama started telling the story of the time when Hiei Jaganshi cut off Sakyo’s right hand and fed it to a wani. He kept one eye on the window, searching for a lithe silhouette or even the telltale glow of red eyes peering through the darkness. But if Hiei was listening, Kurama couldn’t see him anywhere.
Halfway through the story, Shuichi’s eyelids began to droop, and not long after that he was sound asleep, huddled under the bedcovers. Normally Kurama would stop telling the story whenever Shuichi fell asleep and turn in himself, but this time he kept on with the tale, talking to the dark. Pretending he had an audience. For all he knew, he did. Finally when he reached the end of the story, he gave the window a last long look, and then retired to bed.
He awoke to the feeling of hot breath on his face, and opened his eyes to find himself nose-to-nose with a dark-haired demon.
Author's Notes: I know the title of “legendary bandit” is usually attributed to (Youko) Kurama, but in this universe Hiei gets it because well… nothing else sounded good xD
Oh, and a wani is a dragon/sea demon from Japanese mythology. Kind of like a crocodile.
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Author's Notes: I am seriously enjoying writing this story, even though it’s many times less popular than most of the other fanfics I’ve put up (and which I really should get around to updating). It gives me the satisfaction of a story well-crafted, and I love playing with the characters and universes from two of my favourite fandoms ever. My planning extends about a chapter ahead of the one I’m currently writing, and later I might come a cropper as a result of not having worked out the whole story, but hopefully inspiration will strike before I run out of steam. I have some vague ideas about characters and situations that will crop up later, so we’ll see how those play out.
“I knew you’d come back,” Kurama whispered.
Hiei Jaganshi glared down at him, his arms braced either side of Kurama’s head. “Where’s my shadow?” he demanded.
“Not so loud; you’ll wake my brother,” Kurama cautioned, although he knew it was unlikely. “Were you listening to the story?”
“My shadow. Where is it?”
“In the chest of drawers. I’d get it for you, but there’s something restricting my movement.”
Hiei gave him one last baleful look and sat back so that Kurama could move his legs out from under his slight weight, and swing them over the edge of the bed. Kurama felt Hiei’s gaze following him as he padded over to the oak chest of drawers and pulled open the bottom drawer. No sooner had he drawn out the shadow from under the various garments than it was snatched from his hands.
“At least you managed not to damage it further,” said Hiei, examining the shadow with a curl of his lip.
“I didn’t realise it could tear like that,” Kurama said, rather guiltily. “Can you re-attach it?”
“Hn.” Hiei laid the shadow flat on the nursery floor. It formed a very clear Hiei-shaped silhouette when flattened out. Kurama watched with interest as Hiei pressed his own feet to the feet of the shadow and then lifted them. The shadow stayed where it was on the ground, unattached to Hiei.
Hiei cursed loudly in a language that wasn’t English and Kurama glanced over at Shuichi, who didn’t stir. Hiei tried to attach the shadow again, pressing his feet more firmly to it this time, but still with no success.
“Do you need some help with that?” Kurama inquired, unable to help being amused at the situation. Hiei snarled at him.
“I can do it myself.”
“It doesn’t look like it,” Kurama remarked. There was a flash and a shing! of metal, and Kurama found himself with Hiei’s sword pointed at his throat. He calmly got to his feet and went to the dressing-table, hunting around for a needle and thread. “You should be careful with that. You could hurt someone.”
“Hn. That’s the idea,” said Hiei derisively, but he sheathed the sword. Kurama caught a glimpse of his own small smile reflected in the mirror. He didn’t quite know how he could be so calm or so bold when faced with such a volatile, dangerous figure. Maybe he still didn’t believe any of this was real. Or maybe he knew deep down that Hiei wouldn’t really harm him.
Kurama located a needle and unwound a length of black thread from a cotton reel. He had no idea whether it was possible to re-attach a shadow by sewing, but it was a more practical solution than Hiei’s had been. Kurama was good at sewing; his mother had taught him it at a young age, concerned that she might never have a daughter to pass the skill onto (and believing in any case that the ability to darn a hole or repair a seam should not be limited to women). His father had thought it unbecoming for a boy, but Kurama had never been concerned about appearing too feminine. Gardening, another of his favourite hobbies, was also considered a womanly interest.
Kurama approached Hiei with the needle and thread held aloft. Hiei regarded the foreign objects with suspicion. “Sit on the bed and stretch your legs out in front of you,” Kurama instructed. “I’m going to sew your shadow onto your boots.”
“Won’t that mean it’s attached to my boots and not to me?”
“Do you even own any other shoes?”
Hiei fell silent and climbed up onto the bed as Kurama had asked. His boots left a couple of dirty scuff marks on the white sheets which Kurama would have to deal with later.
Kurama lit the candle in the glass holder on the bedside table to help him see what he was doing. He then arranged himself by the bed, kneeling near Hiei’s feet with the shadow in one hand. Hiei watched apprehensively as Kurama lined up the shadow’s feet with the soles of Hiei’s boots. He flinched as Kurama made the first stitch, securing the thread before he began to sew.
“See, it isn’t so bad,” said Kurama. “Tell me if I prick your foot.”
Hiei gritted his teeth and said nothing. Kurama proceeded to sew the shadow onto the sole of his boot with a neat running stitch. He had almost finished one foot when he noticed that Hiei was shaking slightly.
“Is something the matter?” he asked, one eyebrow raised.
“Hn,” was Hiei’s only reply, but as Kurama pushed the needle back into his boot, he noticed a slight flinch that Hiei was trying to hide.
“Hold on,” he said, staring intently at Hiei. “Am I hurting you? How is that possible?”
“It’s nothing,” Hiei dismissed, too quickly.
“I’m not piercing your skin, am I? How can you be in pain?”
Hiei said nothing, and for a while Kurama thought that he wasn’t going to give an answer. Eventually, he replied, “It’s the shadow. It means it’s working, so finish what you started.”
Kurama frowned, but he couldn’t very well leave the work half-done. Re-attaching Hiei’s shadow was what he’d set out to do, and so he would do it. He did his best to tug the thread through gently, hoping it might cause Hiei less discomfort. Hiei sat rigidly until the sewing was complete, and Kurama tied a knot in the thread before cutting it short with a small pair of scissors.
“Finished,” he said. Hiei immediately jumped up, and in the blink of an eye was standing in the middle of the nursery floor. His shadow looked seamlessly joined to his feet, and it followed his movements exactly. Kurama was willing to bet that if he looked back at where the join had been made, the stitches would have somehow melted away.
Hiei drew his sword, and performed an acrobatic series of slashes, watching critically to see that his shadow did the same. He sheathed it again with a satisfied smirk. “Excellent. I knew that sewing would work. I always was resourceful.”
Kurama’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, and so this was all your doing?”
Hiei glanced back at him as if he’d forgotten Kurama was still there. “I suppose you contributed… to amending your own error. If it wasn’t for you, my shadow would never have been severed to begin with.”
“You were the one who sneaked into the nursery in the dead of night and climbed onto my bed!” hissed Kurama angrily. It occurred to him that he still didn’t know the reason behind Hiei’s first night-time visit, but he was too annoyed now to ask. He’d had enough of this boy and his arrogance and his mood swings. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going back to bed. Good night.” He lay down and pulled the covers over his head.
There was a long pause. Kurama knew that Hiei could easily leave without making a sound, yet somehow he sensed that the demon bandit was still standing in the room. It meant that he couldn’t really relax properly or come out from under the covers (that would ruin his dramatic exit of sorts), so instead he lay there, too hot and waiting for something to happen.
Finally, after an age, Hiei broke the silence. “Kurama.”
Kurama didn’t move, assuming that there was more to come.
“There was another reason I came here… originally.”
Kurama abruptly sat up, his red hair in a mess from being under the covers, wisps escaping from his bedtime ponytail. “How is it that you know my name when I never introduced myself?”
“I know one or two things about you.”
“Such as?”
“You aren’t human.”
Kurama was speechless with shock at the blunt way in which Hiei delivered this revelation. It was some minutes before he found his voice. “It… That’s not possible.”
Hiei directed a piercing glare at him, his expression impatient. “You have incredible speed and a grace that borders on the supernatural.”
“I… I’m athletically gifted, that’s all.”
“You also excel in every academic study and are at least ten times more intelligent than every other human idiot in your class.”
“Kaito is as intelligent as I am. He even surpasses me in some areas. Occasionally.”
“Not to mention your unusual talent with plant life.”
“How can you know all this?” An icy feeling was growing in the pit of Kurama’s stomach. The pieces fitted together too well, and his only rebuttal to Hiei’s argument was to attack Hiei himself. “Have you been spying on me?”
It was Hiei’s turn to fall silent. For once, he actually looked uncomfortable. For his own part, Kurama was outraged.
“You have been spying on me! How long for? Why did I never notice you there? How could you invade my privacy like that?!”
“It wasn’t like that!” Hiei snapped back. “I visit the human world on occasion and I noticed you on one of my trips. There isn’t another being on this planet with hair of your colour. Including your so-called family.”
The ice in Kurama’s stomach solidified until it felt as heavy as rock. He rubbed at his chest absently, trying to ease the ache, as he stared at Hiei. “My great-grandmother had hair like mine when she was young. Mother told me.”
“Have you ever seen a portrait of her?”
“There aren’t any surviving images of her or of my great-grandfather.”
“Isn’t that convenient.”
Kurama’s eyes narrowed. “You’re implying that Mother lied to me, about who I am and where I came from. She would never do that.”
Hiei’s silence spoke for itself. Kurama found his hands were shaking. He couldn’t take in what Hiei was implying, and so instead he became angry. Furious even. “I want you to leave. Now.”
“You know I’m right.”
“Get out!!” Kurama pointed one trembling hand towards the window. Hiei turned and walked away, but instead of going to the window, he paused at the foot of Shuichi’s bed. Kurama surged to his feet, convinced that this was a veiled threat against his brother. “You leave him alone.”
Hiei simply looked down at Shuichi, somehow still sound asleep in spite of all the loud and angry words that had been exchanged. “Isn’t it curious how you barely resemble the human sleeping in this bed? Or the two at the end of the hallway. Have you never wondered why that is?”
Kurama slowly sat back down on the edge of the bed. He was now trembling from head to foot. Slowly, he put his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees.
“Mother did tell me once that she and Father had trouble conceiving a child.” His voice came out slightly muffled. “She said it was such a miracle when I came into their lives. She never actually said the word ‘born’.”
He looked up at Hiei in despair. “If I’m not their son… then who am I?”
“You’re a demon,” Hiei replied. “A powerful one.”
Kurama rubbed his hands over his face. “A demon. Until a few nights ago, I didn’t even believe there was such a thing.”
“Yes, you did.”
Kurama sighed. A lot of memories were coming back to him all of a sudden, making a new kind of sense in light of what Hiei had just told him. He believed it was true. Of course he did.
“I always knew there was something unnatural about my hair colour,” he admitted, staring into the distance. “In the village where I grew up – before we moved to London – people used to say that I’d been cursed by the devil. Actually, I think that was part of the reason we moved away.”
He looked over at Hiei, who was standing with his arms folded, failing to hide how interested he was in Kurama’s story.
“But my mother told me I wasn’t cursed, but blessed. By angels, she said. With eyes as green as grass and hair the colour of rose petals…”
“Like the rose on your dressing-table,” said Hiei, and Kurama jumped slightly, having been immersed in his memory. He glanced over at the rose, sitting bright and innocent in a ray of moonlight. It was the wrong time of year for a rose to bloom. Yesterday, it had been only a stunted clipping from Mother’s old rose bush in the garden, which scarcely bore any flowers even at the proper time of year. But Kurama had sensed its potential, had brought it inside to nurture it, focusing all his energy and attention on the little stem. When he concentrated, he could feel a sort of aura around it, around all plants, and if he directed his thoughts in just the right way, he could make them bloom more brightly, overcoming blight and mildew and the ravages of insects. Yesterday was the first time he’d ever brought a flower to bloom from nothing, though.
Hiei walked over and touched the rose petals lightly with a fingertip. “I can sense the traces of your ki on this,” he mused.
“My what?”
“Your energy. You used pure energy to make it bloom. It’s not something a human can do.”
Kurama bit his lip and looked away. “But demons can?”
“Some demons.” Hiei gently picked the rose out of its vase of water, holding it carefully to avoid the thorns. “In your hands, this could become anything you wanted. A suffocating thicket of petals. A vine with razor-sharp thorns that can cut through the sturdiest rock. I’ve seen other animal spirits use weapons such as those.”
That sounds horrible, Kurama knew he should say, or, I would never do something like that. But the truth was, the prospect excited him – to know that he had such a potential, even though it was for violence.
Hiei dropped the rose back into the vase and looked directly into Kurama’s eyes. “Come with me to Maikai, and I’ll show you exactly what your powers can achieve.” It was as if he knew Kurama’s thoughts.
Maikai. The demon world. It was just what Kurama had always dreamed of – the chance to go on an adventure straight from the bedtime tales he’d been telling Shuichi all these years. He took a breath, and then let it out, looking guiltily over to where his little brother slept. He couldn’t just rush off on a whim in the middle of the night with a boy he barely knew. What would that do to his mother? Yes, she’d deceived him, and it hurt, but he couldn’t repay that hurt with an even worse heartbreak. He could talk to her about it rationally in the morning, and calmly request the truth and some answers.
…But how many answers would she be able to give him? Did he really think that she would have knowingly taken a demon child into her family? She couldn’t have suspected, even in her wildest dreams, that her adopted son might not be human. She wouldn’t be able to give him the answers he now sought so desperately. And at the end of it all, he would still be stuck here in this world, knowing he had the potential for something more but never being able to live up to it, for fear of anyone else finding out. He could never truly be himself.
Hiei was offering him the chance to live up to that potential. To cast off this dull, constricting, ordinary world and go on the kind of adventure he’d talked about so often in his stories. Why was he even hesitating?
Because he loved them all, in spite of everything; even his father whom he had never been close to. Because his mother had raised him lovingly for fifteen years and he couldn’t just turn his back on that. Because Shuichi needed his older brother, and he had to be here for him, even if it meant being doomed to forever tell stories of a life he could be living.
Hiei saw the conflict play out over Kurama’s face and the resignation that descended in his eyes as he looked at the sleeping form of his younger brother. “Forget him, Kurama,” he said harshly. “Forget all of them. You don’t owe them anything. They lied to you. They already took away years of your life; don’t let them take any more.”
“Mother loved me and raised me for fifteen years. I can’t repay that by leaving her,” Kurama responded listlessly.
“She never told you the truth.”
“Maybe she wanted to,” Kurama countered, his voice shaking slightly. “Maybe she had her reasons. And no, I don’t know that-” he forestalled the argument he knew Hiei would make, “but I don’t know you either, and I can’t throw everything away on a whim. This is my choice.”
Hiei looked disgusted with him, and Kurama turned away. “I was wrong about you. You are human, in mind and spirit. You’re too weak; you would never survive in Maikai.”
“What did you expect, Hiei Jaganshi?” asked Kurama wearily, though looking not at Hiei but at the wall above his bed. “I’m a demon raised by humans, living in a human world. Of course I’m human in my mind. Did you think you could just spirit me away and change all that?”
Silence descended over the pair of them once more. Kurama was on the verge of telling Hiei to go away again, and this time he knew the other demon would obey. But in spite of everything he’d just thought and said, he couldn’t bring himself to send away his one chance of freedom. He could argue the logic of it all he liked, but the action was a lot harder to take. I am weak.
Still he knew without looking that Hiei hadn’t moved, and maybe this awareness of him was not instinct, but some kind of demon sense, like the way that he could feel the auras of plants. Would he ever get the chance to find out?
When Hiei spoke again, Kurama let out a breath, as if he’d been waiting on tenterhooks for what Hiei said next.
“It doesn’t have to be forever. Just come with me for a few days. Time moves differently in Maikai; they won’t even know you’re gone.”
Kurama turned to him, hope dawning on his face, rising to his feet without even realising it. “Is that really true? They won’t know?”
“Hn. Do you think I’m making this up? You’ll be back before the sun rises.”
Kurama broke into a smile for the first time in what felt like an age. “All right then. I’ll come with you.”
Author's Notes: Whew! There was a loooooot of introspection in this chapter, and I absolutely love writing introspection. No wonder I went to town. I didn’t expect to take so long in writing Kurama’s decision to go to Neverland Maikai, but we all know how much he analyses everything, so it stands to reason that he wouldn’t take a potentially life-changing decision lightly. He’s playing Wendy’s role, but he doesn’t have her personality or immaturity.
Those of you who’ve seen the 2003 live-action film Peter Pan will probably recognise some imagery and bits of lines in this story. The film is my favourite adaptation of Peter Pan to date, so it’s a big influence.
Hiei talks a lot in this chapter. I'm not sure if it's a little out of character, but it's necessary to the plot xD Just chalk it up to this being an alternate universe version of him.
Author's Notes: I've had this chapter 2/3 written for the better part of the year, and I was finally inspired to finish it off. Thanks to okami for being my only commenter on AO3 and inspiring me to pick the story back up last December!
I've made some minor edits to previous chapters, mostly involving changing the name "demon world" to "Maikai". Since Maikai is this AU's equivalent of Neverland, it made sense for it to have a more interesting name.
His mind made up, Kurama jumped up from the bed. He almost could have climbed out the window there and then, but in a moment of self-awareness realised he was still in his nightshirt. “Hold on a moment – I need to change into something decent.” He walked over to the wardrobe.
Already crouched on the windowsill ready to leave, Hiei looked over at him and snorted. “You can change your clothes in Maikai. I’ve seen those ridiculous getups you humans wear. You’d never be able to fight in an outfit like that.”
A pleasant thrill of anticipation went through Kurama at the word fight, but he stuck to his guns. “I’m not running about London half dressed, even if it is night-time.” He opened the wardrobe doors. “Where are we going, anyway? How do we get to Maikai?”
“You’ll find out, if we ever leave this room,” said Hiei impatiently.
“I’m sure you can wait a few extra minutes,” said Kurama. He began to unbutton his nightshirt, then stopped and looked back at Hiei, who was still watching him with a deadpan expression. “It’s polite to look away when someone’s changing, you know.”
“That’s human nonsense,” Hiei said flatly, his gaze unwavering.
Kurama smiled impishly. “Suit yourself.” He unbuttoned his nightshirt and let it fall to the floor, then pulled a pair of worn brown trousers and a plain white shirt from the wardrobe: his gardening clothes. “Should I bring a jacket?” he mused as he wriggled into them. “Is it cold out?”
“Why should you care? You’ve never felt it,” Hiei responded disdainfully. Kurama’s hand dropped from the sleeve of a brown jacket. He hadn’t realised how much the act of being human was a part of him until Hiei came and dismantled it. Hadn’t realised just how thoroughly it was an act. Over the years, he’d chalked his various oddities, talents and general differences up to various things, or covered them up so effectively that even he forgot they’d ever been there. Now here was Hiei, who even though they’d just met knew things about him that his parents had no idea about, who’d come along and explained everything with just a few words but created a hundred more questions. To say that Kurama was feeling a little off-balance would be an understatement.
But he’d been equal to every single challenge that life had thrown at him so far, so there was no reason why this one should overcome him. Taking a deep breath, Kurama pulled himself together and tucked some stray pieces of red hair behind his ears. Time to finally stop pretending. He turned to Hiei, composed and wearing a confident smile. “Well, shall we go then?” he said, even though he was barefoot and his hair was dishevelled and he was leaving everything he’d ever known behind. For a few days.
Hiei looked amused, for the first time since they’d met. The expression was subtle, but definitely there. “Hn. Took you long enough,” he said.
Kurama sauntered over to him, pausing for just a moment beside the dressing-table. Without really knowing why, he picked the rose out of its vase and pushed the stem through his hair, winding it around his ponytail like a coil of green wire. Then he climbed up onto the windowsill beside Hiei. “I was building dramatic tension,” he said.
For a fleeting moment he could have sworn Hiei actually grinned at him, but then the legendary bandit was gone, leaping from the windowsill and lightly dropping the two floors to the ground. Kurama followed suit, landing in a graceful crouch with one hand supporting him. He stood up and dusted his hands off. “Lead the way,” he murmured to Hiei.
“Try and keep up, then,” Hiei replied, the challenge evident in his voice. He sped a few metres away, then looked back over his shoulder at Kurama with a teasing smirk. A surge of energy seemed to go through Kurama’s body, the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck standing up as he realised that he could run as fast as he liked, unleash everything that he’d been holding back for fifteen years. He gave Hiei an answering feral grin. Let’s see who has the legendary speed now.
The deserted London street stretched out before them, empty, dirty, and indescribably inviting. Kurama began to run, his bare feet drumming soundlessly against the stone paving. The air was thick and smoky, but as Kurama breathed it in it tasted of sweet freedom. He easily caught up to Hiei, who gave him an intense, fierce look, his red eyes glittering. Kurama was suddenly sure that the two of them, together, could accomplish anything.
Thick fog curled around the two demons as they raced through the streets of London, two blurred forms, one red, one black, faster than the human eye could follow. A helmeted policeman walking his beat felt a slight breeze as they blew past; a prostitute plying her trade on the corner of the red light district thought she saw something out of the corner of her eye, but Hiei and Kurama were gone before she had finished turning her head to look.
Kurama chased Hiei’s dark form as he sped across the city, his blood singing with exhilaration. He had never felt so alive, so much more than human. He caught brief glimpses of people as he flashed past, but he was nothing like them, never had been. It was ridiculous that he’d denied his true self for so long. He focused on Hiei’s swiftly-moving silhouette ahead of him, his black cloak flying behind him like a flag. If it wasn’t for you, I’d still be in hiding, he thought.
Hiei’s pace began to gradually slow, and Kurama realised with mounting excitement that they must be nearing their destination. Inexplicably though, they were still in London. Just as Kurama was trying to work out how they would make it across to Maikai without leaving the city, he noticed a familiar set of gates ahead of them. He came to a standstill, confused, human memories of visits with Shiori when he was small rushing back to him. Kensington Gardens?
Hiei hadn’t stopped, surmounting the closed gates in one leap and weaving in and out of the trees. He didn’t look back to see whether Kurama was still following, so Kurama knew he had to keep up the pace or be left behind. He quickly climbed up the gates, vaulted over the top and ran after Hiei.
As soon as his feet touched the grass on the other side of the gate, Kurama knew that there was something different about the garden tonight. There was a palpable energy in the air, a dark electricity that sent chills running up Kurama’s spine. The feeling intensified the further into the garden he went, until Kurama found himself fighting his way through the air, battered on all sides by a strange force. Kurama drew strength from the growing things that surrounded him, feeling their life force more keenly than ever.
His mouth fell open as he suddenly came upon the source of the dark energy. In the middle of a grove of trees was a rift in the air, from which purple lightning crackled. It was like a window, or more accurately a gateway, looking through onto a world of strange, dark plains and a tormented sky. Kurama gaped at his first view of Maikai. It looked a lot less friendly than he had imagined.
Hiei stood in front of the rift, grinning, and the electricity seemed to run through him, his cloak rippling and snapping with the current. He spoke over the noise of a howling wind coming from the other side. “This is where we cross through.”
“How is it that no humans have ever found this portal?” Kurama asked. Hiei looked at him with disdain.
“It can’t be found except by a demon or a human with unnaturally high spiritual awareness. Besides which, it’s only visible in the dead of night. Now come on, we don’t have long. The sun will rise soon.”
“Shouldn’t we wait for this storm to pass before crossing over?” Kurama asked as Hiei drew nearer to the portal.
“What storm? This is how Maikai is while I’m away.” With that, Hiei jumped through the rift. And seeing no other alternative, Kurama quickly followed.
They found themselves in the middle of an open plain, a vast expanse of scorched earth beneath a thunder-coloured sky. Kurama looked back over his shoulder to see the dark, still trees of Kensington gardens. At night they weren’t much more inviting than this place; but at least they were familiar, and quiet. The howling of the wind was ear-splitting on this side of the rift. The wind whipped and tangled Kurama’s hair, seeking out gaps in his clothing and chafing his skin. It wasn’t cold, but strong and dry, rough and painful. Kurama made his way over to Hiei, who was looking around at the scenery with fierce delight.
“Where are we?” he shouted, the words stolen away by the wind the very second they left his mouth, but Hiei caught their meaning.
“This is—” Kurama shook his head; Hiei came closer and put his mouth next to Kurama’s ear. The feeling of his breath sent shivers down Kurama’s spine.
“This is the realm of the Four Saint Beasts!” said Hiei. This sent a chill down Kurama’s spine for a completely different reason. He used to tell Shuichi stories about the Four Saint Beasts on All Hallows’ Eve, or on nights were they were feeling particularly brave, armed with pillows and blankets and extra candles. More than once the stories had given Shuichi nightmares about the four bloodthirsty monsters who resided in a castle full of deadly traps and obstacles, and from which no-one ever departed alive. Finally their mother had forbidden the stories after Shuichi woke up screaming from a dream in which he drowned in Byakko’s pit of lava.
Hiei pointed to a black shape in the distance that Kurama hadn’t noticed before. “There it is – Maze Castle. That’s their lair. Ready for an adventure?”
Kurama looked at Hiei in alarm. “Hiei, I know—” Hiei frowned and Kurama put his mouth to Hiei’s ear.
“Hiei, I know you’re a skilled fighter, but I haven’t learned how to properly use my abilities yet, and the Four Saint Beasts are powerful demons!”
Hiei gave him a confident smirk. “What better way to learn how to use your powers than by fighting with them?” Without waiting for Kurama’s reply, he began running across the plain towards the distant castle.
“Is there not a less deadly way I could learn?!” Kurama asked in exasperation, knowing that Hiei couldn’t hear a word. Sighing, he tried to call back the feeling of infinite possibility than had been coursing through him as he ran with Hiei through London just minutes before. He reached up and unwound the rose from his ponytail. It reassured him slightly as he twirled it in his fingers. He had powers of his own; he just hoped they’d be enough.
With a burst of speed, Kurama caught up with Hiei, who was standing at the drawbridge to enter Maze Castle. It was a tall, crazy stone structure with turrets that stuck out in odd places, alternately bulging out and squeezing in. By rights it looked as if it shouldn’t be able to hold itself up, but Kurama knew better than to expect sense from Maikai. The entrance itself was a huge skeletal maw that gave way to impenetrable darkness. Kurama shuddered as he looked up at the sharp teeth hanging above them. They looked set to come crashing down on any unwitting intruders foolish enough to try and enter.
Such as Hiei, who was standing blithely in the doorway, looking back over his shoulder at Kurama. “So you caught up, finally. Come on, I’m eager to get killing.”
Kurama rolled his eyes and went to stand next to Hiei. The giant set of teeth didn’t move, much to his relief. “Might it be worthwhile thinking up a plan of attack, first?”
“‘Attack’ is the only plan I need,” Hiei stated confidently. He walked forward into the castle and was soon swallowed up by the darkness. Kurama hastened after him, keen not to be stranded in this ominous place.
“You’ve been here before,” he murmured quietly as they walked along a bare stone corridor. “You must know what lies in store?”
“Hardly,” Hiei replied. “The Four Saint Beasts don’t change in themselves, but this castle is home to a shifting array of tricks and a variety of creatures. I never know what I might find.”
“Excellent,” muttered Kurama, the ‘t’ sound ricocheting off the surrounding walls. “I do love surprises.”
“Master… Hiei Jaganshi has returned to the realm.”
“Has he at last? He’s been gone so long… I almost thought we’d scared him off.”
“There’s more. He’s brought company from the human world.”
“Oh? So he has… Well, this should be interesting. Very interesting.
We might have found a weakness at long last.”
Hiei and Kurama walked along the castle corridor for some time without speaking. Hiei did his best to steal brief glances at Kurama without appearing to do so. He knew the redheaded demon-raised-as-human would have any number of questions about what was going on, what he was planning, and the nature of the place they were in; yet Kurama only gazed nonchalantly about them, for all the world as if they were on a walk in the park on a spring day.
Hiei suspected that Kurama knew he was being intentionally frustrating in order to try and goad him into asking questions, and in some aggravating display of reverse psychology, Kurama was being overly calm and accepting of the situation to show that he wasn’t going to take the bait.
Damn that mind of his. In his brief time spent observing Kurama, Hiei had only gained the barest glimpse of the many-layered façade that Kurama had been wearing his whole life, reality and fiction intricately woven until the two were nigh indistinguishable, all to hide a truth that Kurama himself could barely have guessed at. Hiei had prided himself on being able to see straight through to the heart of it, knowing what he did about what Kurama was; he hadn’t intended to find himself a victim of Kurama’s mind games.
The corridor came to an abrupt halt with a massive pair of stone doors that loomed above them, so high that the top was shrouded in shadow. The only designs were what looked like two hollow pipes carved into the door, crossing over each other in a loose figure of eight. They ended in twin funnels, at shoulder height for Kurama and head height for Hiei. The door had no handles.
“Have you come up against this one before?” Kurama asked softly. Hiei shook his head, contemplating the strange door in frustration. How on earth were you meant to open the damn thing? He supposed he ought to try the obvious first; but even as he sped forward and shoved at the doors with all his might, he knew it couldn’t possibly be that easy. Kurama joined him, but no matter how much the two demons strained and pushed, the doors didn’t give an inch.
Hiei leaned his back against the immovable doors, breathing a little heavily. Kurama stood calm and unruffled beside him, and Hiei raised an eyebrow at him in irritation, not sure whether Kurama had been deliberately withholding his strength, or whether this was all just a front to cover his true fatigue. It was difficult to gauge Kurama’s potential like this. Back in the human world, as they’d run side by side through the city streets, Hiei had felt him loosening that iron control, freeing his fiercer demon nature. The power and grace he’d sensed from Kurama then had been incredible, and it had filled Hiei with anticipation to think what Kurama might be capable of. But Kurama had clamped back down on it after they entered the portal into Maikai. Hiei needed to find a way to bring that power to the surface once more.
He turned back to the doors, regarding them calculatingly, then drew his sword and leapt nimbly up onto the carved pipes, using them as footholds as he scaled the sheer surface of the doors. He struck out with his sword at random points, and there was a shing! as the sword glanced off the stone, not even making a dent.
“Hiei, it’s pointless,” Kurama called. “I’m sure they’re not meant to be opened with brute force. That would be far too straightforward.”
Hiei reappeared in front of him, looking annoyed. “And I suppose you have a better idea?”
“It’s got to be something to do with these pipes.” Kurama moved forward and began running his hands over the funnels, trying to sense some energy that would tell him what they were for. Hiei watched sceptically. Kurama felt the outside and the inside, but had to admit there was nothing to suggest they were anything more than a stone decoration. Maybe if he could see up them… He bent down slightly and stuck his head into one of the funnels, staring up into the black.
“Kurama!” said Hiei sharply. Where the rose in Kurama’s hair had brushed the rim of the pipe, it had begun to glow blue.
Kurama withdrew his head, a little red in the face. “Hiei, I have to try every-”
“Your rose,” Hiei interrupted. Kurama put his hand up to touch it, surprised. “Take it out of your hair.”
Kurama did so, and Hiei took the rose from his hand and brushed it against the pipe again. Again, bright blue traces were left where the petals had made contact with the stone.
“Of course…” said Hiei to himself. “Youki.”
“I beg your pardon?” asked Kurama.
“Demon energy. It requires energy to open it,” said Hiei. “Only two demons of sufficient power would be able to pass this point. Any being too weak to open the doors would not be worth the Saint Beasts’ time.” He was pleased that they had stumbled upon the secret of opening the doors, but irritated at the same time. He much preferred using his sword to fight with rather than energy attacks. He would have liked to conceal his ice and fire heritage for as long as possible. Even Yusuke and the idiot weren’t aware of that side of his nature.
Hiei was angry enough at the Four Saint Beasts for forcing his hand in this way that he already had a good build-up of energy going. Kurama looked at him sidelong, obviously able to sense it. Hiei was about to start channelling it into the door when Kurama asked,
“So, how am I to direct my energy into the doors?”
Right… Kurama had never used his energy on anything more than the occasional flower before. Hiei supposed that by bringing Kurama to Maikai, he had accepted responsibility for educating Kurama in such things; but he had rather hoped Kurama would just work them out without needing to be coached. Hiei was not much of a teacher to say the least.
He tried to think about how it felt when he channelled energy through his sword. “Take hold of the rose, and concentrate… feel the energy you used to make it bloom.”
Kurama lightly took the rose back from Hiei and frowned as he focused. After a minute he nodded. “Yes, I have it. And now?”
“Now… channel that into the door.”
Kurama shot Hiei a death glare from underneath trailing strands of crimson hair. “Yes, thank you for that incredibly helpful instruction. What would I do without you?”
“Look, I don’t know how to explain how channelling youki works; it just does.”
“Then how did you learn to do it?” Hiei could tell Kurama was struggling to keep his composure in the face of Hiei’s unhelpfulness. He raised an eyebrow and ramped up the obnoxious deadpan.
“I don’t know – it came to me with practice.”
“Well then, thank heavens we have all the time in the world for me to practice, and aren’t in the midst of a pressured situation, such as being stuck in the corridor of a castle inhabited by monsters!”
On Kurama’s last word, a burst of petals suddenly exploded into being around the rose he held. They fluttered dismally to the ground as Kurama stared in surprise at the flower. It sat innocently in his grip, looking just the same as before.
“What… caused that?”
“Youki,” said Hiei smugly. Maybe he was a good teacher after all. It gave him no small amount of satisfaction to know he’d finally managed to push one of Kurama’s buttons. “A strong emotion can give rise to a burst of ki. As you become more adept you can summon the energy regardless of the emotions you feel. Now, do that again.”
“Become angry at you? Certainly.”
“Very funny.”
Hiei could feel Kurama’s energy rising and stopping, rising and stopping as Kurama automatically tamped down on it, too used to rigidly controlling and concealing any part of himself which was demonic. “Let it build…” Hiei muttered, almost to himself.
In response Kurama’s youki spiked abruptly, and petals were streaming from the rose again, this time with direction and force, like a whirlwind. “Keep doing that!” Hiei called. “Try to direct them into the door!”
He positioned himself next to the other funnel and used his sword to channel a torrent of fire up the pipe. The whole pipe glowed brightest blue. Kurama’s eyes were narrowed in concentration as he sought to keep the rose petals whirling upwards into his pipe. Hiei imagined the petals bursting into flame inside the door as they came into contact with the fire; but no ash drifted from the mouth of the pipe. It glowed faintly at first, and then stronger and stronger until with a clunk the doors unlocked, and swung slowly open.
“They have surpassed our expectations.”
“No matter. Hiei Jaganshi has never managed to defeat us before. There is nothing to suggest he will do better with this human-raised mongrel alongside him.
“I think it is time for one of us to greet them.”
“I will go.”