Disclaimer: Check the past thirty chapters.

Warnings: Et cetera, et cetera...

A/N: Whew. Seven months. I suppose it has been a while, yes? No, I've no regrets, because life has been hectic (and my original fic has been time consuming)—but I am sorry for the long delay. If anyone is still reading this story, I hope you enjoy the update. Think of it as…a gift to usher in the New Year, yes?

Chapter31: The Gelum Gemstone

A soft -thump!- in the snow behind him and the string of muttered profanities following it alerted Hiei to Yusuke's arrival. The detective grumbled irritably as he brushed the snow from his arms and plodded through the ankle-high thicket of white to Hiei's side.

"Reckless bastard," he grumbled, but nothing else.

Not that it mattered. Yusuke's voice was a vague backdrop to the flurry of snow in Hiei's ears. There was hardly anything the demon heard at all. Some sick, warped, world-shaking realization was crashing down on him. Dead. Yukina was dead. The truth was crawling up his throat, cutting off his air, smothering everything—

He retched.

"Hiei!" Yusuke's face scrunched with concern as he knelt next to the convulsing demon. But Hiei shook the comforting hands off in aggravation, clutching at his sword hilt until his knuckles turned white.

"Get off," the yokai snarled. "They're here, somewhere. Kill them. I have to kill them all."

It wasn't an exaggeration. Hiei meant every word. He didn't care if the wizards were human; didn't care if Enma would damn him, hang him from Rekai's gallows, and fling his broken body into a roiling hell. They would all die for playing a part in harming his sister—his sweet, innocent little sister.

Yes, he would kill them all.

Hiei took one step forward, took one shuddering breath, Yusuke reaching for him frantically in an attempt to calm him down—and then the chains shot from the ground and encircled his torso and upper arms.

The Death Eaters rose from the snow like frozen corpses, clawing their way upward from their faux icy tombs. The coiled ends of metal links sprouted from their wand tips.

"Well, well, well." The woman, Frane again, stepped forward jauntily and laughed. "How easy it is to catch a demon. I wonder if you're as easy to kill?"

Hiei spat on her robe hem. In another deft movement, he broke the chain bindings as if they were paper strings and retrieved his fallen sword from the snow. His legs bent, preparing him for a crouch.

"Please, demon," another voice drawled. The Death Eater pulled his mask from his face, showing off a tangle of long, greasy black strands. "Do you think we're stupid? You can't harm humans. You can't lay a finger—"

His mouth, quite suddenly, was filled with blood and broken teeth as Yusuke smashed his fist into it.

"Rookwood!" Frane shrieked. She raised her wand.

Without hesitation, Hiei threw his sword. It sailed through the air like an arrow, gliding on the snowy gale—before it sliced through the shoulder of Frane's wand arm. It landed blade-tip-down in the snow, quivering; a thin trail of blood trickled down the edge and wet the snow.

"You BITCH!" Frane howled. Scarlet pumped out from her wound as she flailed about, swearing in agony. "You'll pay for that, mongrel! No one escapes the Dark Lord's wrath! No one lives—"

She was knocked off of her feet by a blast of blue light and landed face-down in the snow, her red hair sizzling.

Hiei looked to Yusuke and saw the detective's thumbs-up. "Go," he said. "I've got this, easy. You take care of Shigure." He turned his gaze back to the recovering mob of Death Eaters, the gale sweeping his bangs from his eyes as he smiled thinly. "Do what you have to do."

And the detective charged, lungs bellowing, fists glowing, into the circle of blazing wand-tips.

Hiei lingered for a moment, watching as Yusuke dodged the first green jet set alight amongst the fray, and then took off, snatching his sword hilt in a blur as he passed.

Shigure, he thought. Blood for blood. That's what he'd have.

The snow flew out from under his feet.

Kuwabara watched warily as Botan staggered through the gate in her black kimono, her oar tucked under her arm and Genkai cradled loosely against her chest. She struggled up the blood-stained stone steps, and almost stumbled to a stop at the sight of the tea garden.

Carefully, she laid Genkai's limp body to the floor and went to Kuwabara's side, sitting beside him as he crouched over Yukina's still form. Faintly, she registered that there were tear trails running down his cheeks. His eyes were puffy and red.

Kurama touched her arm. "Genkai," the fox said, fixing her with his green eyes. "Is she...?"

"Dead?" Botan shook her head. "She's alive. Barely. But she won't stay that way for long. We need to get her out of here, get her to a mediwitch or a doctor or someone."

Kurama nodded, his face sober. "And Yukina?"

She almost winced at the uncertainty in his voice. Hesitance wasn't something she always saw in him.

Botan looked down at Yukina's body. Her hair seemed greener, for some reason, against the blood-wet grass. Purer. Just like her soul.

The Koorime's skin was pale, nearly white in her blue kimono. She could see where the droplets of blood had dribbled down from her neck and stained the fabric.

And the wound. It was a jagged line across her throat, red and raw and still fresh, the muscles and blood underneath pulsing slightly. Botan wanted to cry at that, but she wouldn't—she'd seen too many people die before. There wasn't anything left to give.

That's when she felt the ice sting her throat, prickle her lungs. The frost hung thickly in the air, burned her nose as she inhaled it. How had she not noticed it before?

Ice clung to Yukina's lashes, hung in clumps in her hair. A thin layer of ice coated her lips, turning them blue. Her body was encased entirely in ice. She was frozen, an ice sculpture in time. Botan swallowed, reached out a hand to her—

And jerked it back when Kuwabara smacked her fingers away.

"Don't touch her," the carrot-top snarled. He curled over Yukina protectively, as if he were shielding her from Botan's touch. But she couldn't really blame him.

She was Death, after all.

Botan bit her lip, looked away. "Kuwabara, you know I'd never hurt Yukina. I'd never dream—"

"You're Death, Botan," Kuwabara gritted. "And you're in your ceremonial robes. It doesn't matter whether you mean it or not—you'll still kill everything you touch."

She flinched.

"You aren't denying it, Botan." He stared at her, eyes boring into her sockets, her skull, clawing at her mercy, and pleading. "Say it, Botan," the carrot-top croaked. His voice was hoarse, broken. "Say that I'm wrong, that she isn't dying. Say that you aren't going to take her from me."

And she wanted to. She wanted to tell him that everything was alright, that Yukina would pull out of this in no time. She wanted to smile and laugh like she always did, hug him as a silent promise that she wouldn't take Yukina's soul from her dying, frozen body and dip it in the River Styx. She wanted to tell Kuwabara that it would all be fine.

But she didn't answer.

Something was wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong.

Hiei's eyes darted about the village, taking in the empty, ice-sculpted cottages. The windows, thick sheets of translucent frost, were dark; they exuded no signs of life. The first thing that came to mind was that perhaps the homes had been raided, the occupants' souls whisked away unexpectedly and suddenly to Rekai on snarling lips and lit wand-tips.

But no. Every home was intact, unscathed. There were no signs of a scuffle, or Death Eaters breaking down doors and slaying helpless victims. Nothing gave a hint to any sort of struggle. Which meant that there was only one logical conclusion.

The Koorime had run.

Hiei let out a hissing, frigid breath at the thought and spat in the snow. Cowards. They were all damn cowards. They'd known what was coming, known that Voldemort and his Death Eaters were power hungry and craving for their hiruseki stones—and they hadn't bothered to warn Yukina at all.

He was disgusted that he had any relation to the ice-maidens that had left one of their own to die.

(And, truthfully, he regretted not slaughtering them all.)

But then, he couldn't blame them. Yukina had left the fold; she'd willingly shed the protection of the Koorime village to enter the larger world. And the ice-maidens were peace-loving creatures, far removed from the hot-blooded rush of battle and war. He couldn't expect them to be brave or honorable or even enraged enough to fight back. They weren't like him at all—they were weak, defenseless, fragile.

But that still didn't excuse their treachery.

If they had a god, he hoped that it would be unmerciful and keep them all alive long enough for him to find them. Find them and—

The thoughts of vindictive justice were suddenly wrenched from Hiei's mind—only to be replaced by the urge to fulfill one much more recent; much more bitter. He looked up at the imposing structure before him, his eyes taking in every detail.

It was a temple of some sort, he knew. The high dome rose above him, nearly disappearing into the misty clouds overhead. Two Koorime sculptures, composed of marble-like ice, stood on either side of the entrance, holding up the ridge of the domed ceiling with their eyes turned to the sky. Bearing the burden of the world, Hiei supposed.

But it was the double doors that caught his attention. Bas-relief carvings of ice-maidens reached out to him from doors' surfaces, frozen drops running down their faces. Blue veins trailed their way up the designs, cracks in the art. The doors were artistic, in an overly dramatic way; that much he could acknowledge.

And one of them had been ripped clear from its bearings.

Hiei crept up the steps to the temple entrance and edged himself around the imposing slab of ice lying fallen beside its other. Though his skin made no contact with the frost, he felt its chill seeping through the air. His hairs stood on end; his breath froze in the air.

He tried to keep these things—the sudden drop in temperature and the almost unbearable cold seeping into his bones—out of mind as he stepped over the door and walked up the aisle. Row upon row of sculpted white benches sat on either side of him, a multitude of grieving statutes standing like sentinels against the walls. Up ahead, there was an altar; it was no more than a few short steps from there to a pedestal—but that wasn't what caught his attention.

A calming blue light shined from atop the stand, pulsing with some sort of cathartic gleam. It calmed him, oddly. The thoughts of violence and revenge that beleaguered him disappeared. There was no grief or sadness, no pain or misery. And why should he be upset or angry? Yukina was safe on the other side now, wasn't she? No one could ever hurt her again.

He wanted that bliss, too.

It didn't make any sense at first, wanting to die. But as his footsteps echoed loudly along the floor, he realized that it wasn't about dying. It was about peace—happiness. His sister had that now; she had bliss on the other side. It was something all Koorime wanted—all he wanted. Because he was a Koorime, too, wasn't he? Yes. He'd have his peace, his solace. No more regret or pain, sadness or death, anger and confusion. Just wonderful, merciful…

"Mesmerizing, isn't it?"

The cold feeling of steel against the base of his spine brought Hiei back to his senses. He was standing at the altar, hand outstretched toward the pulsing, blue light. Even as he looked at it, his train of thought almost abandoned him.

No, he thought viciously. There was a reason he'd come.

The drawling voice from before, he realized, was Shigure's. The business end of his sword cut a little deeper into Hiei's back; he felt the blood run down his skin and stain his shirt.

"Do you know what that is, Hiei?" the demon asked. His feet crunched along the icy ground as he strode toward the altar, rotating the edge of his Ring Sword so that it stayed trained on Hiei all the while. He stared up at the pulsing blue light fanatically.

"No," Hiei gritted. "But I'm sure you'll tell me. Or am I wrong?"

The demon gave Hiei a sidelong glance over his scar and smiled. "No, you aren't wrong. But of course you'd know me—you and I have history, don't we?"

Hiei didn't respond. Shigure's eyes had turned back to the altar, filling with its light. If he stayed distracted long enough… if Hiei could inch his fingers a bit more towards his katana…

"Tell me: When you looked at it, did you want to die?"

Hiei froze and bared his teeth at the question. It was a valid one, true—but he didn't feel the need to respond.

"There's no point in lyring," Shigure continued. He was looking at the blue light lovingly, as if it were all he craved in the world. "I know you did—even now, staring into its wondrous depths, without being one of your kind…I want the peace that death can bring, too."

A snarl made its way unbidden from Hiei's throat. "I could easily aid you in that matter."

The demon let out a harsh bark of laughter. "Don't you understand, Hiei? Don't you know what this pure, untainted glory is?"

Hiei's fingers closed around his katana's hilt. Shigure was too distracted, too awed by the shimmering brilliance that reached out from the pedestal to notice Hiei now.

"It's the origin of your people, my naïve friend. Their history, the source of their power…all wrapped up in one stone—the Gelum Gemstone." Shigure turned back, the blinding blue light behind him outlining his frame, and Hiei could see the madness in his eyes now, pulsing and beating as if it were some living beast.

He drew his sword and lunged.

Hiei's katana met only with the pedestal, the glancing blow grinding against the stone and shooting sparks into the air. Shigure was nowhere to be seen.

But Hiei could feel his moist breath on his neck.

"Try again, Hiei," the demon murmured.

Hiei swung viciously, the muscles in his arms pushing his veins against skin as his sword whipped the air around him, the wind rustling in the afterword of his arc.

Shigure was already down the altar steps, smiling sadistically. "Is that it, then?" he taunted. "Were you such a waste of my time?"

Hiei's sword met against his in an instant, their steel screeching as they slid against each other. Air, cold and unforgiving, seemed to lance against Hiei's skin behind him, still stirring where he'd flown down the steps, quick and silent as a shadow.

"That's enough," he snarled. "There won't be so much talk from you once I've slit open your lips, broken your bones, and painted these walls red with your blood—you'll be silent as the grave, Shigure, and stiller, too."

But Shigure only smiled cruelly, as if the words amused him, and then a truly twisted thought lit his eyes, his face. His smile widened.

"All words," he said, leaning forward over their trembling swords. "You don't have the spine, or the strength, or the will, Hiei. But I do. I always have. And that's why your sister's frozen corpse lies cold and broken on Genkai's garden steps."

And when he flicked his wrist, his Ring Sword threw Hiei like a rag doll against the temple walls.

Something ached in Hiei's shoulder, and he was sure that the cratered wall behind him that touched his back was sticky with blood; but his chest hurt more, a pounding, throbbing pain that seemed to flood his veins, his arms, his eyes.

His heart. His heart was hurting.

His bloody fingers found the cloak around his neck, and then tore it down suddenly and flung it to the ground. His trembling legs burned as he stood, unsteady, and his arms felt heavy as he lifted his blade.

But he could feel none of it now.

He stood there, staring down the rows of icy benches at Shigure, breathing in harsh, ragged breaths, his eyes bloodshot. The frozen walls about him seemed to tremble in unison with his unsurpassed rage and grief as he spoke.

"Why," he managed through his numb lips. "She wasn't involved in any of this. I never told her, Shigure, not once. I watched my sister grow up from afar, yearning for the brother she'd always wanted, never knowing who he was. But I honored our agreement, for her; I kept the truth of it all, for her—

"AND YOU TOOK HER!"

Blood seemed to fill his throat as he dashed forward, screaming hoarsely; and in a blur of arms and legs, he'd carved a swinging arc through the air, slashing wildly at Shigure's unguarded back. The blade came to an abrupt halt as Shigure parried it with his Ring Sword, a sharp crack filling the air.

"Come now, Hiei," Shigure laughed, his voice a quiet murmur. "You'll have to do better than that."

He smirked as he wheeled around, his Ring Sword holding Hiei's katana within it as it twisted. There was a snap, loud, sharp, and echoing, and then both blades shattered, their silvery fragments raining down like hail.

A moment passed, small and infinitesimal, as Hiei could do nothing but stare down at the hilt of his sword where his shattered blade had rested only moments ago. Broken. Everything he touched was fated to be broken and destroyed…

And then he dodged a blow from Shigure, his feet skidding along the ice.

Shigure laughed breathlessly.

"You're a fool, Hiei, a fool! Do you honestly think I'll die, here, after so many months of planning? Do you think I'll let it all go to waste, and leave without what is due to me?"

Hiei couldn't answer; the words were too heavy and unsavory in his throat, like bile. He could see it in Shigure's wide, manic eyes: the madness in his mind was like poison, gleaming there in the depths, burning wildly, flailing and twisting and coiling…like a snake.

And he knew, right then, that Shigure might as well have already been dead.

"You're the fool, Shigure. You've allowed that ningen wizard to poison your mind, to corrupt you. But I don't envy your stupidity." He spat at the demon's feet.

Shigure could only grip his own face in the throes of his madness and tears trailed down his cheeks, his mouth open in a manic grin. "Corruption? Poison? Does any of that matter in the end, when there is power? When there is complete, unrivaled, absolute power?"

Hiei put a hand to his knee and rose from his kneeling position, trembling. "I don't care about your corrupting power; you can have it." His eyes stung, oddly, and his face felt wet. "I doubt I would care if you drove all this world to its bitter, violent end." His frozen fingers closed about a shattered fragment of his katana, scraping it from the ground. "But my sister didn't deserve death!"

He leapt, raking the fragment across Shigure's chest, and allowed the blood to spill upon the floor. Shigure swung wildly, his arms open wide, as if he were trying to swallow the entire world into the depths of his madness.

Hiei rolled to the side and spun, and when he stood he found himself back to back with the demon he had once considered a faint ally of sorts, a brother in solitude and pain. His eyes were covered in the shadow of his bangs as they lay in disarray upon his forehead.

"She was one of the few things that kept me sane, in all of this. My one connection to my past, my future; she was my only family, and…and I think a small part of me loved her." Hiei let out a sharp, derisive laugh, his bent head rising high from his shoulders to rest upon Shigure's back. "But she's gone now, Shigure. Her blood is stained upon your hands. And now I must stain mine with yours."

Shigure veered about suddenly, missing the yokai under the swipe of his arms as Hiei vaulted above him, his feet landing softly like raven wings on the ice. His eyes seemed to burn like red, blazing coals against his skin, even as they stared emptily, blank and dull with grief.

"Do you know, Shigure, what it's like to have a shattered heart, a heart that has crumbled out of existence?"

Hiei dropped the sword fragment and bolted across the ice, and thrust one hand into Shigure's chest, forcing out from his opponent a gasp of shock and pain. His nails pierced through Shigures's chest easily, protruding grotesquely from his back.

"My heart, it…it aches, Shigure." The words seemed to choke in Hiei's throat. "I suppose you're fortunate, then. Your heart will only be torn apart—but mine is far worse."

When he heard Shigure speak, the demon's voice sounded weak, pleading…and yet still drenched in mania.

"You can't, Hiei," Shigure managed; blood was running down the corner of his mouth, slurring his words. "I'm so close now, I can almost taste it. I can almost feel my fingers wrapped around that cool stone, and then everything…everything…the whole damned world will be mi—"

He wrenched his hand from Shigure's chest.

The rest of Shigure's words died upon the air as he crumbled to the ground, his blood and flesh scattering upon the walls and littering the floor.

Hiei glanced down at the feeble heart held tight within his grasp; it was heavy, for an organ. So, so very heavy, like a burden sitting heavily in his hand. Was this what he was carrying around in his chest? Was this what was causing him so much pain?

His fingers clenched around it, squeezing it, choking it, snuffing out what little life it had left, before it burst apart in his hand, warm and sticky. He let the wasted remains slide through his fingers and drip out onto the frozen ground.

A heart—he could do without it.

His own still seemed so heavy, so weighty in his chest. He felt his knees give out beneath him, felt his shoulder meet with the hard, unforgiving ground. The ice was cold and wet against his cheek; he could see his crimson eyes reflected in it, even as his breath fogged the etched surface.

He was so tired now. So tired of magic and fighting and hearts. He was tired of it all. He wanted to rest now, to sleep. And he would only have to close his eyes…

But a hand was shaking him. And wasn't that a voice he could hear?

"Wake up, you bastard, wake up!"

Ah—the detective, of course. But he didn't care, not anymore. He wasn't going back to run and fight and kill, not when there wasn't even a reason to live; not when there wasn't a Yukina to protect…

"Damn you, Hiei—she isn't dead!"

There was another one now. Botan, he thought, from the sound of that annoying, high-pitch voice.

But it was her job, after all.

He felt her arms wrap around him, felt her lift him up, and he could see her eyes now, big and watery and amethyst. He'd never told her before, didn't ever intend to, but he'd always thought they were rather nice looking, for her; and they were beautiful now, beautiful as he stared into the eyes of Death…

She slapped him—

"Wake up!"

—and his eyes flew open.

Botan was staring down at him, her eyes filled with tears as she cradled him in her arms. He would have fought her off, would have pushed her away, but he felt so tired now…

"You can't die, Hiei," she was saying. "I—we—need you. Yukina needs you."

A groggy part of his mind heard her, and turned away from the ugliness of her words. "Lies," he heard himself mutter. "She's gone, now, I saw it. You've already…you've already—"

"You can't lecture me on death, Hiei," Botan chided gently. A lock of her blue hair slid out of place. "I'm Death. Grim Reaper. Ferry Woman. Lady Night. That's me."

"Then finish it already. Take me away."

Yusuke was scowling down at him. "You're not gonna die, you idiot, and neither is Yukina. They didn't kill her, Hiei—she fell into a self-induced coma, to heal herself. She's not gonna die, okay? So stop…so stop being so damn stupid."

He could still feel the burning on his cheek where Botan's hand had touched him. The warmth was steadying almost, helped him hear their words as Botan stroked his face, humming some soft song to him.

Yukina wasn't dead.

On the other side of the barrier, somehow, his little sister was alive.

It was enough to make him laugh with joy.

Instead, he sat up slowly in dizzying pain.

"Take your hands off of me, Botan," he snapped. But he smiled as he said it, and she seemed to smile, too.

His head spun as he staggered to his feet, gripping his arm. The weight in his chest was gone.

"You alright now?" Yusuke asked. Hiei gave him a slow nod, and the detective grinned unabashedly. "Good, dammit. Who knew you could be so melodramatic, eh?"

Hiei managed a halfhearted snarl, and Yusuke only grinned wider.

"I hate you, ningen," Hiei muttered. But the corner of his mouth was lifting in the semblance of a smile.

He would have to stop that, dammit.

"So that's it, then, the stone we've searched for," Botan murmured. Her eyes were turned to the pedestal, where the blue light shined down unhindered, like a flaring star. She shivered. "I can feel all of its raw power, even all the way over here. It's terrifying."

Hiei pushed back a few wayward bangs. "In a way," he mused. "Before, when I nearly touched it, it felt as if it were calling me to a long, peaceful sleep. To death, Botan—to you. I can't say I'm entirely surprised that you can feel it."

"Well, I don't feel a damn thing." Yusuke cupped his hands behind his head as he turned his steely eyes to the stone glimmering afar. "So are we gonna get the stupid thing or not?"

Botan bit her lip, running her hand nervously through her blue hair. "Caution's never killed anyone, Yusuke."

"Yeah, I guess you'd know about that."

"Oh, haha. Very funny."

Somewhere in the background, the detective chuckled.

But Hiei could hardly hear them; instead, the sound of the stone's shrieks filled his ears, a pulsing sort of wave that assaulted him. Was it summoning him, like before? But no—it was different this time.

It was calling out a warning.

Hiei felt the muscles in his neck tense as he pivoted on his foot, ready to raise the alarm—

And then he knew that it was too late.

Over their heads, over the blue and black hairs of Botan and Yusuke, he could see the black cloaked figure, could see the raised wand, and he could almost hear the words that were soon to be uttered:

Accio stone.

The icy wind whistled in Hiei's ear as the stone flew past, and the air around them all seemed to freeze: his breathing hitched, and his ragged breaths came out into the air like puffs of cotton, sitting loftily on the air before they slowly faded; and he could see Yusuke and Botan clutching at their necks, the air oppressively cold and heavy in their throats.

The stone—it was there now, right within his reach, and for all its overwhelming power, it felt right, felt like home. The white stone, pure and serene, like a cut of ice, shone again with that calming blue light, and all he wanted to do was grasp it tightly in his fingers and never let go, if only he could lift his hand…

The –snap!- of it catching in the Death Eater's palm brought them all sharply back to reality.

The weight in the air was gone, too suddenly, and they all collapsed, their knees buckling underneath them. He could hear Yusuke's coughing and gasping, Botan's near retching and wheezing.

Or was that his?—he couldn't tell anymore.

And the Death Eater was getting away now, his black cloak whipping in the wind behind him.

"Dammit," Yusuke swore. "Dammit, dammit, dammit—"

He paused to vomit.

"What the fuck was that?" the detective went on. His voice was unsteady, and his fingers were shaking. "It was like the weight of the whole world came crashing down on my shoulders. I couldn't move—I almost couldn't breathe."

Botan wiped the sweat from her face. "Not the weight of the world, Yusuke—the weight of Koorime Village. And if it was the source of their power, the only thing keeping this place together…" She gave Hiei and sidelong glance.

He understood; he could see the answer reflected back at him in her eyes.

"Shit."

"Wait, wait." Yusuke struggled to his feet. "You mean to tell me that without that stone—"

The rest of his words were lost, swallowed in the sudden roiling and rumbling of the temple's walls, as the ground slid under their feet, and the dome above heads lurched and let loose giant chunks of ice that rained down like hail.

The temple was falling apart.

Koorime Village was dying—and in a way, it was all Hiei's fault.

Somewhere, he was sure, Enma was sitting back and laughing at the bitter irony of it all.

"Go!"

Warm blood rushed up his throat and spilled out onto the floor as Hiei said it, and he scrambled up and took the two by their hands, dashing to the doors as quickly as his weakened legs could carry him.

"Hiei—to your left!" Botan shouted. But he could already see it, the block of ice hurtling toward them, impossibly fast for something so vastly huge—faster, even, than him.

But his mind was quicker.

He turned on his foot, spinning wildly, and flung Yusuke and Botan as far as he could with all his strength, and watched as they landed hard on the ice, skidding before they came to a halt before the toppling doors.

In the next instant, he leapt, dodging to the side in a wayward roll, before he sprang back onto his feet and dashed the last few steps—

Ice, cold, hard, and misted, brushed his back in a gale-force wave as he flew out the doors and felt the temple come crashing down behind him. There was silence, long and heavy, as he waited for the dust to settle.

When it cleared, Yusuke was standing beside him, hands on his knees and coughing violently into his palm.

"Dammit," the detective swore again—but he was grinning. "I've really gotta quit smoking." He reached down a hand and pulled Hiei to his feet. "You good?"

"Terrible," the demon responded. His arms felt worse than before.

Botan blew a bang from her face. "It doesn't really matter though, does it?"

"Not in the slightest," Hiei agreed. He brushed the small icicles from his shirt. "We'll have to be quick."

"He can't have gotten that far," Yusuke grunted.

"Then let's not waste any time, shall we?" The oar was already holding Botan off the ground. "Let's go."

Hiei dug his heels into the snow, felt it crunch beneath him—and they were off.

He could see it all around them, the signs that the Village was falling apart: the cottages were crumbling as they passed them, falling to piles of icy dust; and in the air, a blizzard was tearing through the heavens, blotting out the sky like a blanket of white.

And just up ahead, they could see a speck of black, wriggling its way through the blinding snow…

And towards the reopening portal.

"Shit, shit," Yusuke swore under his breath. The bones in his fingers cracked as he balled them up tightly in a fist, and then the blue light was gathering around him. Hiei could feel the crackle in the air, could nearly taste the spirit energy gathering around him.

He ducked as Yusuke fired the shot into the blizzard.

His hair ruffled in the wind as the spirit blast shot past; it flew off into the storm, arcing toward the Death Eater's back—

Until the figure ducked down into the snow.

The blast flew on, undeterred, its marked missed completely—but Hiei could see the glint of light flashing off the stone in the air.

He spurred himself forward, the snow blinding him as the Death Eater gave a faraway yelp and scrambled to reach the Gelum Gemstone lying unguarded in the snow.

But Hiei was going to get there first.

He leapt, snarling, as the Death Eater's pale and frozen fingers closed clumsily about the stone, fumbled with it, nearly dropped it…

But it all happened too quickly, and gravity was too fickle.

The Death Eater threw it towards the portal, and Frane was waiting for it there, arms open and wide. Her robe was torn and ragged, and her hair and face were streaked with blood—but when she caught the glimmering stone in her fingers, her green eyes came to life.

And just like that, she was gone, and the portal stood empty.

Only after did Hiei come crashing down.

The Death Eater let out a frightened gasp as Hiei's fingers dug into the fold of his robes, lifting him and shaking him fiercely as if he were a ragged doll—and he was, in a sense: he was just a puppet, a puppet who'd damned and doomed them all.

Botan's hands were over his, trying to pry his fingers from the Death Eater's cloak.

"Stop, Hiei!" she pleaded. "He isn't worth it!"

"He is!" Hiei snarled back. "This fool doesn't understand what he's done, to us, to the world, to all worlds!"

"I had to!" the Death Eater shouted back. "You don't understand, I didn't have a choice!" His voice was small, weak, frightened…and somewhat familiar.

Yusuke put a heavy hand to Hiei's shoulder as the demon felt the muscles in his hands twitch uncontrollably. "Calm down, Hiei. What's done is done. And you"—he turned his dark eyes to the Death Eater on the ground—"that's a load of shit if I ever heard it. Congrats: the whole world is fucked."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, sorry…" The rest of his words faded away in muttered nothings, cracking on the end like the voice of a reprimanded child. Hiei could hear him sniffling now, and then crying in earnest.

He peeled back his fingers in disgust and dropped the Death Eater to the ground.

But when the black hood fell back and the Death Eater's face was exposed, he paused; and Yusuke and Botan, too, froze, as they peered over Hiei's shoulder at the face they knew and yet couldn't possibly be seeing.

Staring up at them were the wide, startled grey eyes of Draco Malfoy.

-End Chapter-

A/N: I dare not promise an update soon, because that always seems to end in a broken promise. It's a miracle enough that I've managed to complete this chapter. Still, I'll cross my fingers and hope for the best, and maybe, just maybe, I'll get another chapter out in the foreseeable future.

(Er, I think.)