Dis/claimer: I don’t own Yu Yu Hakusho, its worlds, or its characters as that claim belongs to the magnificent Yoshihiro Togashi-sama, but I’ll claim what is mine when I need to do so. +coughHatokoandNanamecough+
Summary: Living someone else’s life for someone else’s sake finally takes its toll on Yusuke. When the fragile threads of this lie he lives unravels at the seams, how will he keep himself from falling apart? The answers lie in the phantom flames of his dreams.
Warning(s): Only mentions of yaoi and yuri this chapter, so no lemon/lime scenes. However, this chapter is somewhat graphic in its gore, due to the mental instability/emotional retardation of a certain fire demon we all know and love. There are shocking twists. There is suspense being built. This is where the fic begins to darken in tone dramatically. There is also torture in this chapter and character death. I warn you now before you tread further as Fractured will only get darker and more graphic. And as per usual, if you are under the age of being able to read the mature rating or if you can’t handle this type of fic, you’d best click the back button on your browser now. Any other warnings will be mentioned in this area as they appear.
Rating: Mature to NC-17.
Author’s Notes: Well, first off, I want to apologize for the long delay of the posting of this chapter. My reasons are hardly worth mentioning…though if you go pilfer through my live journal entries you’ll find out why…sorta. In any case, three is finally up, and Hiei makes his debut…as the sadist that he is. +chuckles+ And I’m starting to bring in the others as well. Meh. I could sit here typing out some of the potential and not so potential pairings of this fic, but why would I ruin your fun by doing that? Just entertain yourself untying my twists in this plot…that is if you’re still willing to stick with me for one helluva ride! +grins and winks+ Enjoy, loves.

-Ainohimitsu

Fractured: Phantom Flames
Chapter Three: Of War and Love
By Ainohimitsu on August 19, 2008

The piercing cries of gulls echoed overhead, the gentle swish of their wings riding the wind’s current. Hopping along the shoreline, the cooing calls of doves mingled with the melody of the sea that the gulls seemed to have started. Their small talons rubbed softly against the grains of sands, for these doves would jump away from the languid waves ebbing against the shore. The gulls, perhaps, snickered at the skittish play of the doves. These creatures danced their part in the universe of the sea, and Yusuke found himself so enthralled by that revelation.

‘They dance their part…’ Flickering with an unknown emotion at such a thought, his dark eyes roved over the scene before him. ‘So they are true to their natures?’

The toushin couldn’t yet answer. Another few minutes passed as he observed the birds, until a sigh escaped his lips, causing a slight sound of discord to interrupt their melody. The birds paid him no heed, nor did the waves, even as he rolled up the pants legs of his jeans and sat down on the edge of the shore so his feet could be laved lovingly by the waves.

Yusuke glanced in the direction of the sun, noting that it would be at its height in just about three hours, which was when noon would reign. Closing his eyes, he breathed in the salt of the ocean hanging in the air, and a fragmented peace began to settle over his soul…

“Why don’t I come here more often?” The toushin asked aloud, allowing his elbows to support his upper body as he leaned back against the sand.

The response was immediate and came via a flash of memory. The flash had been so quick that if he’d had his eyes open, he’d have missed it completely. But when he connected the subject of said memory in his mind, Yusuke wished his eyes had been open. His heart clenched with the fresh wound of betrayal, just as he became aware of that familiar box burning against his thigh through the denim of his jeans.

“Why the hell did I bring that thing with me?” Yusuke growled, his mind trying desperately to ward off the memory of feeling Keiko’s warm lips against his own…

He desired to forget all traces of that memory…of the only time she had ever kissed him of her own accord...not because she hadto (as with the kiss of life that brought him back the first time he died). He’d just returned from the Makai, and he’d listened to her scream at the dying sun that she wouldn’t wait any longer. She pounced on him once she heard him tell her she wouldn’t have to wait anymore. And he could still feel the soft mounds of her breasts pushing against his chest…the way her legs clamped around his waist…how she pushed him against the sand. And he remembered that there was no fire behind that kiss…he had felt nothing from her…nothing for her. Perhaps, the latter was yet one more reason he longed to forget.

‘Even then, I somehow knew she didn’t want to marry me…’ Yusuke admitted in his mind.

“But did I want to marry her?” Yusuke whispered, opening his eyes and moving his head to the side.

His gaze landed on the doves again, still engrossed in their skittish game of not getting caught by the waves. His earlier question came to mind about the birds being true to their natures. The question he couldn’t answer then seemed one he could answer in light of this new one.

“They dance their parts because they don’t want to go against their nature…because they can’t go against it. And me…even if I go against mine…” Yusuke shot to his feet, not even daring to finish that sentence, for he just wasn’t ready to accept the truth yet…

Yusuke allowed anger to pool in his gut because that was something he could deal with. Thrusting a hand in the pocket containing the ring box, he wrenched it out and ripped the tiny silver band from its comfortable prison. Tossing the box aside, the toushin looked down at the piece of jewelry in his palm, eyeing the emerald adorning the top of the ring, his glance soon finding the words he had engraved on the inside of the band. They read: Forever yours, forever mine.

A feral rumble resounded in his chest, his Mazoku markings appearing on his face. He positioned his arm behind him, soon enough launching the ring airbourne. He let the rumble turn into a growl, smirking when the metal plunked with a splash into the depths of the ocean. He felt as if a weight had been lifted…a chain had been broken…at such a simple act. With that thing gone, maybe…just maybe…he could be free…from the judgment that befell those who weren’t rich…those who were considered worthless…those who weren’t good enough for Keiko.

But that feeling of freedom only lasted a second before he was overcome with guilt. He had to find it! That ring was the only thing that symbolized he could amount to something! He worked so fucking hard for it…

His markings disappearing, Yusuke ripped his jeans and t-shirt off of him and threw them on the shore. He plowed headfirst into the waves, barely noting their warm caresses against his skin. He swam straight for the spot where he chucked the ring, his heart frantic, his eyes blurred and burning from the salt water. He screamed when his foot scathed a jagged rock, sending bubbles up around him. Losing all his breath from that noiseless scream, Yusuke had to hurry to the surface for air.

‘Damn it! I’ll never find it at this rate!’ The toushin cursed silently.

Just as he was about to dive under again, he heard the yell of a familiar voice…a voice he wanted nothing to do with.

“Yusuke! Thank goodness! I knew I’d find you at Genkai’s beach…” Why the hell was she here?

Yusuke didn’t turn to face Keiko, hoping she was just a figment of his imagination. He held himself up by treading water, suddenly realizing he was above his head. Had he thrown the ring that far? The distance didn’t seem so far when he stood ashore…

“Yusuke? Don’t you hear me?” He heard a hint of worry in Keiko’s voice, in addition to that usual annoyance with him for not doing something the way she wanted him to.

He chose to continue ignoring her.

“Damn you, Yusuke! I know you’re still angry, but do you have to pretend I don’t exist? I came to say—”

He turned when her upset words abruptly halted.

What he saw sent him racing back toward the shore line, heedless of his nudity, but he couldn’t seem to move fast enough.

A very tall, broad shouldered man held Keiko tight to his chest, one of his bulky arms crushing her waist against him. Keiko gave Yusuke the biggest eyes he’d ever seen…eyes that screamed disbelief and even betrayal. Those eyes stopped him in his tracks in the shallowest part of the sea, the waves still calmly ebbing against his feet. He could only watch how the man took a rag to Keiko’s nose and how she sagged against his chest just seconds afterwards. Why couldn’t Yusuke move? Who the hell was this bastard? What did the guy want with her? And why…why did the man look so familiar? He knew he’d seen that brutish size somewhere before…and that blue hair…that x-shaped scar between those ever furious eyes. That x-shaped scar…

“Bui? What the fuck are you doing with Keiko!” Yusuke thundered that last question as if it were a command, finding that he could suddenly move again.

“Here.” That rough baritone voice reached his ears, stopping him from moving again.

Something black hurtled toward his face, and, in that split second he took to catch the rectangular object, Bui and Keiko were gone.

Splotches of red and a sheen of sweat began to appear on the back of a most pale curve of neck. Rays of the mid-morning summer sun shone down upon this piece of delicate flesh…delicate because its owner possessed a grave sensitivity to direct and prolonged exposure to heat sources. There were certain ethnicities of humans who lived with but a shadow of this creature’s sensitivity. These humans burned easily and could not withstand more than fifteen to thirty minutes of direct sunlight at a time, else they would be forced on a woeful date with aloe vera. However, the creature was not human; she was koorimie, an ice maiden of the Glacial Island suspended—and isolated—in Makai’s northbound skies. And this koorimie was too engrossed in her current task to worry about the sunburn she would surely have in a little while.

Yukina all but groped the soft flesh of yet another plump tomato. These fruits fascinated the koorimie, and she was determined to create a tasty soup for supper that evening. Their harvest, as well as the other “fruits” she picked, would fulfill a great purpose: the happiness of the wily Kurama. She just knew he’d love that his babies were going to aid in the masterpiece of her famous home-made soup that he would eat and then proclaim his undying love for…

‘Day dreaming again…why is it always about him? I don’t think he even notices I’m breathing when we’re in the same room…’ Yukina frowned at her thoughts, coming back to reality when she plucked the last tomato she’d need for her soup.

What felt like a sheet of bee stings flared across the back of her neck as she stood with her basket of “fruits.” It was at that moment that she realized her mistake and the terrible fate she would soon face. With a soft groan and a wince each step she took toward the shrine’s back door, Yukina found herself wishing to scream colorful adjectives at anything that moved. Though, all she did was bite her tongue, so as not to disturb Genkai-sama. And for this consideration, she earned a bloody tongue…

‘Why didn’t I cover my neck?’ Yukina cried in her mind.

Indeed why. She remembered her head and ears with a white bandana and her arms with the long sleeves of a white cotton shirt…and even her legs and feet with jeans and boots. She should have remembered to cover her neck!

Upon reaching the door, Yukina gave a quick glance back at Yusuke’s clothing on the line. She knew they weren’t dry yet, but she felt the need to stall her entrance…if only a second or two. She swallowed the blood, willing it to stop flowing, even though that action helped little. Sighing, the koorimie opened the door and prayed the Master wouldn’t be in the kitchen—to which the backdoor was connected.

Unfortunately for Yukina, Genkai WAS in the kitchen, only face down on the floor. The sight of the Master caused Yukina to drop her basket, her “fruits” rolling in every direction across the ground. The koorimie stumbled to Genkai’s body.

‘Is she still alive?’ Yukina thought, her heart clenching in fear.

The koorimie’s fingers found a slow, but steady pulse, and she breathed a sigh of relief. At this motion, Yukina’s glance caught the sight of a red feathered dart sticking out of Genkai’s back. It was then she started to truly fear.

‘Someone’s in the shrine, and they shouldn’t be here!’ That was her thought before she heard the whiz of the dart and felt its sting amplify the pain of the sunburn on the flesh of her neck…

And the last image she recalled before passing out was of a figure in a dark brown robe picking her up and carrying her through a portal.

Kuwabara grumped as his huge hands met with scalding, soapy dishwater. Ignoring the burning, he grasped a rag and proceeded to scrub a rather obnoxious plate coated with dried peanut butter and oatmeal.

‘Ew! How can sis eat that crap? I don’t care if she’s pregnant or not. That’s nasty!’ Kuwabara’s thought only made him scrub harder, wanting more than anything to be done with this filthy chore.

He just wanted to finish studying for his Zoology test, which was Monday morning bright and early at the university. But no, his sister just had to have the dishes done “right this instant”! When she stomped her feet and raised her fists at the start of his protest, he decided that doing them was his best—and safest—option. His sister was scary and violent enough already, but with her being pregnant, she was terrifying and downright sadistic if she was pissed. And keeping her happy was a pain in the ass!

Kuwabara felt like he was going insane, and stupid Urameshi never answered the phone, so he could arrange to take out his frustration with his fists on the dumb Mazoku. But it just wasn’t Urameshi…Kurama and Keiko were always too busy with something or another to give him the time of day as well. He saw Yukina often enough, but how could he ever trouble his beautiful, sweet love with his complaining? Genkai would listen to him and then beat the crap out of him via her “special” vent training; he wasn’t so sure about that…

Eikichi’s mewl caught Kuwabara’s attention, causing him to pause in his fierce scrubbing and look down at his precious, little calico. His dark eyes warmed at her sweetness, a soft smile lighting up his handsome face. That smile turned into a grin when the cat began to purr and rub up against his leg.

“Sorry, girl, but I can’t pet ya with wet hands. ‘Sides I don’t think ya’d like that too much.” He chuckled when Eikichi responded with an affirmative meow and sauntered out of the kitchen.

Shaking his head a bit, Kuwabara went back to his task, only to jump at the loud crash in the living room. His first instinct was to bring his hands up in front of his face. He was so used to his sis attacking him that he automatically went on the defensive when he heard such noises at home. But when no fist slammed into his stomach, he dropped his hands, looking around quite puzzled. Was he imagining things?

“Kuwabara! Save me!” Kuwabara blinked at that shrieking voice and then raised an eyebrow upon seeing Koenma’s teenage form flailing in abject terror toward him, his eyes widening at the sight of his sister rampaging behind the prince, a shot gun in her hands.

Kuwabara paled and nearly screamed himself, for his sister resembled a red faced, seething, shrilling banshee after its prey, ready to devour that poor soul and trap said soul straight into hell…for all eternity. Or maybe staring down Hiei’s black dragon before one went to hell was a more accurate description. Either way, Kuwabara didn’t want to be in Shizuru’s line of fire at the moment…

“Kazuma, move.” His sister’s command stopped his breath from leaving his lungs; she was enraged…he’d never her voice sound so dark, so threatening, so…Hiei-ish, even when she was shrieking at him and beating him up.

“I SAID move, damn it!” Shizuru growled, stepping closer.

Kuwabara blinked again, realizing he hadn’t complied the first time. He made to do so, but Koenma’s shivering form, cowering behind him stopped him from moving aside. The guy was really scared. He had to wonder what the prince did to piss Shizuru off…

Steeling himself and knowing he’d pay for this later, Kuwabara glared his sister down.

“I know your hormones are all screwy because of the baby, sis, but do ya have to go attacking the few people who do come over?” Kuwabara kept his voice calm and rational as he asked his question to Shizuru.

“That wimpy asshole behind you is NOT welcome in this home! I’m going to blow his brains out! Now move!” Shizuru thundered taking another step toward them.

“Um, ya can’t kill a death god with a shot gun, sis…” Kuwabara responded, but it was the wrong thing to say because Shizuru screamed her battle cry before barreling toward them.

The young human shut his eyes and prepared for his sister’s impact…but it never came. He opened his eyes and nearly fell over at the sight…

Koenma held Shizuru close to his body, and she was weeping in the shelter the prince made for her with his arms. The prince turned to Kuwabara, giving him a sad, guilty smile, almost as if Koenma was silently saying “I’m sorry for causing her tears.”

“What’s goin’ on here?” Kuwabara heard himself ask, his heart shuddering with each wail that came from his sister’s lips, with each tear that fell.

“It’s complicated, and we don’t have time to go into that matter right now. Some terrible things have happened already, and only more of these things will continue to happen. You and Shizuru are desperately needed to help stop them. I wish I could explain more, but we need to go this instant.” Right as the prince finished his rushed explanation, a blue swirling portal opened up behind them.

Koenma picked Shizuru up and walked through the portal, expecting the younger Kuwabara to follow after him.

‘So much for studying…and dishes…and normal human things.’ Kuwabara thought as he sighed and did as the prince anticipated, praying to the gods that the worlds weren’t ending and wondering why the hell Urameshi wasn’t with Koenma if the situation was so bad already.

As the swirl of energy sealed behind him, Kuwabara was only faintly aware that the red string binding his soul to Yukina’s had started to fray in the middle.

Darkness. All consuming darkness everywhere. There was no end to this blackness, and it was cold. So cold. The cold that burned. The cold that seared. The cold darkness that died to something so black and lifeless that it left one’s soul completely empty…

In the farthest reaches of himself, Hiei knew he was asleep…dreaming the same thing all over again…the dream in which he couldn’t see a single thing, yet feel this cold, dark emptiness pervading his every pore to his very soul. He never knew why this was. He never knew where this was until Mukuro appeared in the darkness, and the blackness would dissipate…the cold would retreat. But…the emptiness somehow grew as his dream returned to that day he freed Mukuro from her hate.

His sight would start to blacken again as she held his broken body against her own. He stared up at the mortal crimson of the Makai sky, wondering when the emptiness would consume him…or if it might ever leave him. His chin rested against Mukuro’s shoulder as he slipped into darkness and away from her. He thought he had found where he belonged in those arms…in his defeat that day. But the darkness took him again, and he would still be lost and empty…his fate in this life. Or so he had once believed about the message of this recurring dream.

“Here it comes.” The dragon wielder murmured to himself.

A bright blast of energy dispersed the darkness and, strangely, some of his emptiness, too.

Hiei found his eyes following a path toward the source of said blast, and, there, he would see Yusuke giving him the stupidest grin.

“I’m not late again, am I?” The Detective sheepishly asked.

Hiei snorted and rose to his feet, making his way toward the toushin. The walk was always so long, yet he could never force himself to rush. He’d just walk and stare into those deep, brown eyes that held the secret to how he would be fulfilled…the secret to where he belonged.

Once standing in front of Yusuke, he’d raise his un-bandaged hand to cup the boy’s chin.

“Aren’t you always late, Detective?” Hiei whispered.

Then, that was where the dream ended, and this time was no different.

Hiei opened his eyes, growling. He always woke up at that part, bereft of the secrets he had every right to know. He hated it! But he hated Yusuke even more for being there in his dream. He hated it that the bastard was in Ningenkai blissfully unaware of the silent torture he put Hiei through…blissfully unaware that the human bitch was whoring herself to any woman wild enough to try and tame her.

Mukuro’s spies in Ningenkai wouldn’t dare provide false information—though he knew they only reported certain things to Mukuro, leaving him left out of the loop, in spite of the fact that his rank was higher than theirs—unless they desired their lives to be forfeit. And not only that, Hatoko and Naname were loyal to the death for Mukuro. Lovers had a tendency to cling against all logic to whom they held dear, even heartless, conniving wenches such as those two…

‘Fucking toushin…why the hell aren’t you here yet? I know that meddlesome, so called “neutral” fox has warned you that your precious kingdom is under siege, and Bui has surely bagged your bitch and given you my message by now. What the hell is keeping you?’ Hiei demanded of Yusuke in his mind, suddenly grinning maniacally when he unsheathed his sword from its scabbard. ‘Maybe I should have let you know about the fun your vassal and I have been having in your absence…’

Ebon spikes barely moved as Hiei’s crimson eyes sparkled with sadistic glee, his head jerking back somewhat as his cackles lashed through the darkness of the room.

‘I can guarantee his torture would move your ass to come for him and your throne and rip you wide awake from your blissful ignorance!’ His wicked laughter died to silence at the conclusion of his inward tirade before continuing it out loud, “Come be the hero, Detective! Come see if you can win this war!”

His bellowing war cry echoed throughout the room that was the heart of the Tourin palace…the heart of its desert kingdom. He had conquered Tourin’s heart so he could bleed it dry…bleed it for vengeance of Mukuro’s kidnapping by its idiotic, and somehow inherently lucky nobles…bleed it because its neglectful king obsessed over a human bitch allowed to force denial of the demon inside. But most of all—for a reason Hiei’d never say aloud—so he could bleed it for the fire demon’s secrets bound in its king’s eyes. This room…this throne he perched himself upon…this kingdom…this heart…it was all Hiei’s until Yusuke killed him for it, and that was if the boy could—no, if the boy would do it.

Another devilish smile spread across Hiei’s face as he uncrossed his legs and let them dangle above the ground. Sadistic glee lighting his eyes once more as he leaned forward in the throne seat, his grin became wider. His weight was carried by the handle of his sword, for it rested between his spread legs, the point of the blade biting against the floor.

“You still alive, fool?” His question feigned concern with something sickly sweet like that of the kiss of a viper’s forked tongue before it sank its deadly fangs into one’s veins.

The barest scrape of metal against stone was his answer.

“Good.” Hiei replied before another peel of twisted laughter escaped his throat.

When the laughter died again, Hiei leaned back up, taking his torso’s weight off his sword.

“Shall I birth your agony anew, or will you submit to me the whereabouts of Mukuro?” The fire youkai questioned, offering the battered fool an option of implied mercy, though he would not truly be so kind as to oblige the vassal if the fool divulged the location to which Mukuro was taken…if the fool confessed to high crimes against Mukuro and the kingdom of Alaric.

“I have 500,000 men waiting for me to give the signal for Tourin’s destruction. They surround us as I speak. Why withhold this pertinent information to save a few asinine conspirators, instead of giving it up to save a nation of millions who are innocent? What would your lord say? What would the hero suggest if he were here now?” Hiei questioned, his voice laced with an undertone of the terror to come if his wishes weren’t complied with soon.

The dragon wielder received no answer.

“Your loss, fool, but let us proceed. Your pain awaits you and your stupidity.” Hiei sneered, snapping his fingers and flooding the room with flame.

There, prostrated before Hiei a few feet away on a huge, gray stone slab angled at exactly 90 degrees and strapped to said stone with razor sharp, energy binding wires, the bloody, mangled form of the toushin’s second in command was on display like some grotesque work of art.

Hiei walked up to Hokushin’s body, jabbing the edge of his sword into what was supposed to be the demon’s side. He relished in the strangled scream that rang through the room and hummed pleasantly through his own body. The exaction of torture was almost…orgasmic for the hi youkai. It was an art…a creative process drenched in the majesty of blood and agony. Hiei jerked the sword out, laughing like a delighted child who just received a token of love from its parents. The scream became impossibly louder, busting a chandelier and mirror somewhere in the room…and the scream only continued to get louder until it died out completely.

‘Must have got a kidney…’ Hiei chuckled inwardly, amusement lighting his eyes.

“Lord Hiei! Look…” Hiei growled as he turned to punish the idiot responsible for ruining his fun…only to gape at what the demon held dangling in his hands.

“Kirin, where the fuck is the rest of her!” Hiei yelled, rage beginning to override his senses, his jagan opening and starting to glow beneath the white cloth covering his forehead…the dragon would soon wake for vengeance... “And I thought I told you NOT to kill anyone until I give the go ahead, yet now you carry one of the heads of Tourin’s four elite generals.”

Hiei’s eyes weren’t on the aforementioned head, but on the other one…the one that caused his ire to rear high a monstrous blaze…the head of she who was the commander of Alaric: Mukuro.

‘Saitei…’ A broken whisper echoed in his mind’s ear…a whisper that wasn’t Hiei’s own.

This drew his attention from staring at Mukuro’s good eye, an expression of eternal shock marring her imperfectly beautiful face; Mukuro was caught by surprise when she was beheaded. His gaze found that of the youkai behind him on the slab…those dark eyes the only thing he could recognize from Hokushin’s body.

‘The name of your co-conspirator, ne?’ Quiet and deadly, Hiei’s voice pervaded Hokushin’s mind.

The answer he received was not one he expected, but it was enough to cause his jagan to scream in rage, his dragon to flare with the desire to consume…

Hokushin sent him a telepathic bout of sadistic laughter mimicking Hiei’s own just a little while ago, and then said through that mental link, ‘This “war” is done, and you are its fool.’

‘We’ll just see about that!’ Hiei roared in the other’s mind before plunging his sword through Hokushin’s heart.

End: Chapter Three: Of War and Love
Next: Chapter Three: Of Life and Death

To be continued…