http://clampfix.fanworks.net/guests/holy-g4.txt </head><body><pre> Now, for you CMLers, this tis the important one... <smile> Holy Ghost An X-Files/Yuu*Yuu*Hakusho crossover by Sionna Klassen Chapter 4 Tokyo, Japan Thursday, September 21 5:42 P.M. Urameshi Yuusuke fidgeted impatiently despite Koenma's hiss in his direction to be still. He hated being kept waiting. "This is the third psychic so far," he complained in a whisper, trying not to be overheard by the old woman in the corner, who had a tendency to fix Yuusuke with a gaze unnervingly like the one of his martial arts sensei Genkai when she was telling him without words that she didn't want to hear any bullshit. "What makes you think this one is going to talk?" Koenma sighed. "Look, even if nobody tells us anything, we're still getting information from them." "Oh yeah?" Kuwabara asked. "How?" "Didn't you notice the way the other two were acting?" Koenma asked. "They're afraid of something. I'd bet it's attracting the attention of the murderer to them." "Why would he - or they, or whatever - care?" Yuusuke asked. "Psychics haven't been killed off yet." "No, but part-youkai have," Koenma said. "It's really only a short step from there to attacking humans with unusual powers - at least, in the mind of a fanatic." Kuwabara looked uncomfortable at that. "Koenma... that means *we* could be in trouble..." "Idiot," Yuusuke hissed. "We're human. We're better off than Kurama, and he's sticking his neck out anyway. And what about Hiei? He isn't human at all." He addressed Koenma again. "Do you think he'll be okay?" "Hiei's hard to catch," Koenma said with a shrug. "I already warned him about the situation, but he took off anyway. You know him, he doesn't like accepting anyone else's help, even if it's ours. I'm more worried about Kurama." "Yeah, but Kurama's staying in his human body, right?" Kuwabara asked. "That'll help, but only some. He's still a reincarnation of a youko, and he still has those powers. He'll still register as being different." "What about Yukina?" Kuwabara said in sudden alarm. "She's a youkai! She could be in danger!" "Don't worry," Koenma said. "She's with Genkai, and it would take a lot to get past her. You know that. Besides, you can't be with her all the time. If we all work together, we're more likely to solve this case than if we split up." "I guess so," Kuwabara mumbled. At that moment, their discussion was interrupted as the door opened and the person they'd come to meet walked tentatively into the room. It was a young man, with a slight, almost emaciated figure, and short black hair like a soft cap over his head. His large green eyes were haunted. His clothes were entirely black. "What do you wish to know?" he asked softly. Koenma regarded him impassively. "It's about the recent murders," he said. "I don't know anything." "You're lying," Koenma said easily. "A psychic of your power would pick up an enormous amount from something like this. Please tell me what you know. I'm trying to stop the killing." The boy sighed and tightened black-gloved fingers in the folds of his coat. Finally he said, "There is an evil force at work." "How so?" Koenma asked, his gaze sharp. The boy stroked the backs of his hands absently, seeming unaware of the motion. "It's hard to explain. When I feel the victims die, it's like there is something hovering above them, an evil spirit. It doesn't have any physical form, so I can't be more specific about it than that." "And it eats the victim's soul?" Koenma guessed. The psychic nodded. "That would be the best description. Something like a gaki, I think." "Damn," Koenma muttered. "Not the best of news." He focused his gaze on the young man again. "Is there anything else you can tell me?" "I--" The psychic hesitated, then spoke again, as tense and wary as a deer poised for flight. "The victims - I feel *nothing* of them, until they die. Even if I tried to track them down before they died to prevent the murder, I would not be able to - and if you manage to get anyone else with psychic talents to speak with you, they will tell you the same thing. They simply vanish, and reappear again only when they are killed." "What does that mean?" Koenma asked, his eyes narrowed. "They're not just killed where they're found?" A shake of his head sent black locks of feathery hair into the green eyes. "No. In that dying instant, there are clear memories of captivity, though they only last a moment." "So, there's more to this than most people think..." Koenma said, as if thinking out loud. "There usually is," the psychic replied, completely serious. He suddenly blinked as if he'd forgotten something, then looked at Koenma with more suspicion in his eyes than had been there since he entered the room. He swiftly stood. "Please leave. I can do nothing more for you." He turned abruptly and left. Yuusuke almost wanted to call him back, but Koenma shook his head. Then he bowed to the old woman in the corner, who was watching them all like a hawk, even still. "Thank you for allowing this meeting," Koenma said. The old woman said softly, "I'm surprised - you're the first ones he's spoken to since--" She broke off as if she had caught herself saying something she shouldn't, and stared hard at Koenma. Yuusuke glanced at Koenma's face and saw that it was completely impassive, but something shimmered in the back of those gold eyes, and Yuusuke wasn't sure he knew what it was, or wanted to know. <Something weird as hell is going on here...> But he didn't ask anything, not then, and not as they left. Once they got outside, Kuwabara stretched and yawned hugely, seeming bored. "Where to now, Koenma?" <Kuwabara the Dense,> Yuusuke thought, somehow annoyed. Whatever was going on, he didn't understand it at all, and that irritated him. "You two can go home, or wherever," Koenma said. "I'm calling off the case." "What?" Kuwabara yelped. "You can't be serious!" Yuusuke said angrily. Koenma turned to look at him. "Dead serious," he said flatly. "This case is closed. None of you are to investigate it any further. You're just going to wind up getting yourselves killed, and I won't be able to help you, or even bring you back - not this time." Yuusuke remembered, unwillingly, a flash of pain and darkness that had seemed like it would go on forever - and then, inexplicably at the time, it hadn't. But this time, what if it would? Was that what Koenma was trying to tell him? What would happen if one of those soul-eating things got him? "But Koenma, what about all the people that'll die because of this thing?" Kuwabara said, reluctant to agree. "I never said it wouldn't be dealt with. But this is out of your league." "We can handle anything," Yuusuke said arrogantly. "Just point us at it." "Not this time," Koenma said. "I'm going to tell my father about it, and leave it up to him." Yuusuke blinked in surprise. Koenma was in charge of the Reikai Detectives and anything they came up against. If he was going to Enma Daio instead... "Shit," he said aloud. "You're really scared of this thing, aren't you?" Koenma turned away, so Yuusuke couldn't see his face. "Go home, Yuusuke," he said. "You too, Kuwabara. I'll contact Kurama. Forget about this case. It'll be safer." He walked away. Mulder felt ready to collapse from exhaustion, and frustrated enough to kill something. It didn't mollify him any to see that just about everyone in the room seemed to be in roughly the same shape. Mulder looked at Inspector Tanaka, who seemed to be the only one left with energy, and entertained some un-regulation but highly satisfying thoughts of dropping a heavy weight onto his head to shut him up for a while. Then he sighed. <And I thought *our* bureaucracy was bad.> Since their arrival back at whatever the headquarters was called - Tanaka had not bothered with such irrelevant mundanities, of course - Mulder had become profoundly grateful that he didn't speak a word of Japanese after all. After a thorough chewing-out of which Shuichi hadn't bothered to translate more than a quarter, they had been presented with a daunting pile of forms which had to be translated and then reverse-translated - by Shuichi, of course - for Mulder's responses. And *then* had come the inevitable meeting. He could see, even from the corner of his eye, how haggard Scully looked, and he was sure that he didn't look much better. Shuichi sat limply in his chair and didn't bother to translate more than the occasional phrase. Most of the confusing jabber of syllables, even though it was nonsense to Mulder's ears, was beginning to sound familiar and repetitive. <If I sit here long enough, maybe I'll memorize his damned speech... Or learn Japanese through immersion. I think I'd rather not, though. I'd never learn to speak politely by listening to this creep.> He glanced at Shuichi again. Despite himself, he was starting to give the kid credit, at least for his phenomenal patience. Anyone else, and Mulder was sure that they would have either snapped or burst into tears by this point. It was only marginally comforting that even the rest of Tanaka's investigative team looked either bored, exhausted, or angry - and sometimes all of the above. <I wonder what he's berating us all about now? Has he moved on from "how dare you use your inferior foreign methods on our turf" and gone back to "you men aren't worthy of representing the Japanese people"?> Mulder felt slightly guilty for being grateful that it wasn't just he and Scully getting the full brunt of Tanaka's spite, but he couldn't help it. At this point, all he wanted was to go back to the hotel and hide under the blankets long enough to believe that the whole damned case had just gone away. A shower would be nice, too. The Japanese weather was surprisingly hot for late September. Mulder realized that his attention was wandering again. Not surprising. And this meeting was hardly being productive at this point. <Sitting through this is worse than Trig class in high school. God, I want to go home.> He glanced at his watch, remembered he'd forgotten to reset it to Tokyo time, thought for an unreasonably long interval before managing to account for the time difference in his head, and decided that it was nearly eight o'clock in the evening. They'd been in this building for almost six hours. <That's *it*. I've had it. Diplomacy be damned.> Mulder stood up, and all eyes locked on him. He ignored the gazes, and turned to Scully. With forced lightness, he said cheerfully, "I'm all in. What do you say we call it a night?" Scully kept her face impassive as she stood, but her eyes silently thanked him. It was probably good money that she had been sorely tempted to do just what he was doing now several times. Only her abundant common sense had stopped her, since it was bad enough that she was a woman with equal rank as her partner, meaning she had to be treated equally. If she had done anything even remotely impolite, it would have gotten her a *lot* more trouble than he was going to get in the teeth tomorrow. At the moment, however, he didn't give a damn about the consequences of what he was doing. Shuichi followed Mulder's lead as well, and when Tanaka barked a question at him, presumably something along the lines of "where the hell are you going," he calmly turned and replied, something that sounded exceedingly polite and yet cuttingly sarcastic at the same time. <I want to know how he does that,> Mulder thought, amused despite his exhaustion, as he made for the door. Tanaka yelled what sounded like a command. Mulder turned and said, firmly throttling his temper so what he said came out perfectly calm and polite, "Go to hell." Then he turned and left, Scully and Shuichi close behind. Kurama leaned against the cool concrete wall, letting the night breeze play over his face as Mulder kept watch at the curb for a taxi. The air in the meeting room had been stifling, with no windows to provide the slightest bit of ventilation, or even a clue how much time was passing. He *should* have been hailing the taxi himself - but, to be absolutely honest, he was too damned tired. He was sure Mulder understood - from the way he'd looked just before deciding to walk out, he'd long ago lost his patience with Tanaka. <I simply do not understand the man,> Kurama decided. After a while of Tanaka's repeated repertoire of ranting and raving, Kurama had simply tuned him out like everyone else. There was no hope of getting a word in edgewise; Tanaka seemed never to pause even for breath, remaining in what seemed almost to be a fit of apoplexy for hours on end. Kurama had no idea how he did it. And trying to interrupt would only have given Tanaka more excuses to be angry, not that he seemed to need any. <I knew this case wasn't going to be easy, but this is ridiculous.> Kurama sighed to himself. <I'd almost prefer getting roped into another demon tournament than this...> <Well, no. Close... But I'm not crazy.> Kurama opened his eyes as he heard the sound of a car pulling to a halt nearby. A taxi waited at the curb, and Mulder turned to Kurama and asked, "You going home?" Kurama nodded, moving closer. "My mother will be worried." "Okay... I'd like you to take a shot at translating parts of the files we were given tomorrow, if that's all right," Mulder said as they climbed in. "I can do that," Kurama agreed. "Looking for mutants?" Scully suggested innocently. "No," Mulder replied airily. "This week is aliens week. Mutants don't get another turn until October." Kurama refrained from looking either amused or annoyed. He knew perfectly well that Mulder and Scully were carefully keeping from mentioning anything important until after he was well out of earshot. But he was too tired to deal with it. Tanaka, having clearly lost control of the situation, had no choice but to adjourn the meeting. He sorted his papers as the rest of the men left the room, making no pretense of anything other than relief. Once he was alone in the room, he picked up his papers and strode down the near-empty corridors until he reached his office. He unlocked the door and went inside, tossing the sheaf of papers on the desk. Then he lifted the phone and dialed a number. When the phone was answered, Tanaka said into the receiver, "I have a job for you." Kurama turned to close the door of his bedroom behind him, after a late snack and a brief talk with his mother. She never asked about the case, rightly assuming that he wasn't allowed to talk about it, but she had noticed how tired he looked and suggested he go to bed early. Kurama wasn't averse to the suggestion. He turned back to the room and nearly jumped out of his skin as he saw Koenma directly in front of him. He was too polite to swear as Yuusuke would have, but he leaned against the door and gave a sigh of exasperation. "*Must* you pop out of thin air like that?" "You must be tired - you don't usually show surprise at anything." Koenma, oddly, didn't seem to be enjoying his victory. "And you're not only in a suit, you don't have your pacifier in your mouth," Kurama observed dryly. "What's the occasion?" "It's not a pacifier," Koenma said loftily. "It's a Fuumakan." "I'll ask you for an explanation of *that* later. I assume by your abrupt entrance that this isn't a social call, so why don't we just get to the point?" "You *are* tired," Koenma observed. Kurama shrugged, moving past Koenma to sit on his bed. "As my esteemed companions were surely thinking earlier, diplomacy be damned. What brings you here?" Koenma shifted his weight. "I came to tell you that the case is closed." Kurama bolted back to his feet. "What?" he demanded. "I haven't suddenly switched languages on you, so what part of that didn't you understand?" "That's crazy," Kurama managed at last. "Why?" "It doesn't matter," Koenma said, but Kurama gave him a *look*. He wasn't as good at those as Hiei was, but he backed it up with words. "Oh no you don't. I'm not falling for that need-to-know crap. Don't try to be mysterious, you're not very good at it. If you can't tell me because to be perfectly honest you don't trust a youko thief who came into your service only because I stole something from you, then come out and say it. I hate political shadow dancing. If I wanted another dose of that tonight I'd go back to Mulder and Scully, or worse yet, Tanaka. They're all perfectly happy to keep me in the dark." Koenma glared at him, his eyes sparking for an instant, but then he obviously forced himself to relax. "Fine. The simple reason the case is closed is because it's too dangerous for any of you to handle." Kurama raised his eyebrows in surprise. "I'm surprised you would hold that opinion of us after the, ah... Yakumo affair, should we call it?" Koenma shook his head sharply. "That was, to be painfully honest, a fluke. You four *still* do not work well together. Hiei is nothing better than a loose cannon who is just as likely to run off as give his help, Kuwabara has no sense of tactics--" "Or common sense, for that matter," Kurama said dryly, and when Koenma glanced at him, he shrugged. "As long as we're being honest. His virtues lie in his persistence, not his intelligence, and you know it as well as I do, so there's no sense pussy-footing." Koenma only shook his head. "Yuusuke wants to take on the entire world by himself and has no self-restraint or acceptance of his limits. And he pursues events to the point of total irrationality." "And me?" Kurama asked with a lopsided smile. "You..." Koenma shook his head. "You have too many enemies, and you know it. How well do you, even you, trust the others?" When Kurama was silent, he continued. "You know all their strengths and weaknesses, you count them as friends, but you certainly don't confide in them. You keep them at a distance so they can't be used against you. You're just as much of a loner as Hiei... just in a more subtle fashion." Kurama looked up, directly into his eyes. "And this threat of yours is something that would take nothing less than perfect teamwork to defeat?" Koenma sighed. "I don't know if even that would be enough." Kurama nodded slowly. Then he said, "And just how do you propose to halt the 'mortal' investigation? You expect Mulder and Scully to just tamely go home without having fulfilled a fraction of their purpose? I assume you can pull strings in the Japanese government." Koenma gave a short, humorless bark of laughter. "You really think my influence is that widespread? The only rank I hold is in the Reikai, Kurama. If I want to get anything done here, I have to do it indirectly, because I don't actually exist in this plane. The fact of the matter is that the only reason I was able to get you on the case at all was through an incredible amount of effort and chains of acquaintances haunting their former and still-living colleagues." "Haunting?" Kurama asked with a lift of his brow. "Yes, dammit, and I had to pull a lot of spirits out of their respective destinations to do it, and then deal with all the paperwork afterwards getting them put back, plus all the paperwork for sanctioning the hauntings. You think you're the only one who's worked hard for this case? I have just as much invested in it as you do, but what I said still holds: The case is closed." Kurama frowned slightly and shifted his weight almost imperceptibly. "So are you going to try and put a stop to the human investigation, too? Or have you already been doing that by throwing all these stupid bureaucratic obstacles in our way?" "I can't stop it. Once the wheels were set in motion, I'd done all I could. I haven't done a thing to obstruct you, I'll swear to that. Someone else must have an interest in making sure this investigation doesn't go anywhere, and for your sake, and everyone else's, I hope they succeed." "And what if they don't?" Kurama asked quietly. "They're human, Koenma. If this thing, whatever it is, is so strong that four Spirit Detectives including two A-class youkai can't take it out, how could you think that two human detectives will stand a chance? Will you just stand back and let them die - or worse?" He knew what he said was true. If this thing was just killing people they might not have been assigned to the case at all, and Koenma would most certainly not be shutting it down out of fear. This *was* worse, whatever it was. "You want to protect them, is that it?" Koenma asked. He sighed explosively. "Then tell them to go home." He reached for something, a glint of gold just inside his jacket, and abruptly disappeared. Kurama sat down on his bed, then flopped onto his back, staring up at the ceiling, his red hair streaming over the mattress all around him. He could hear the distant rumble of thunder and the sudden rattling of branches against his window as the wind picked up. He fell asleep as the storm blew in, his dreams as restless as the sky outside. The phone rang. And rang again. On the third ring, it was picked up and a hoarse voice said, "Tanaka." "We've got the results for you, sir," the voice on the other end of the line said. Tanaka sat up and rubbed his eyes in the darkness, listening to the sound of rain beating against his window. "About damned time. Spill it." "Unfortunately, we didn't find much. We ran full background checks, but aside from his academic brilliance, there's nothing that can be counted as even vaguely anomalous, not even in medical records." Tanaka grunted. "What about the Americans?" "The woman is even more ordinary than the boy. Fox Mulder, on the other hand, has quite a few interesting events in his past. They're too numerous to go into now, but the full report will be available to you in the morning." "Good," Tanaka grunted. When he hung up, he immediately dialed another number. "Mizuhara? What did 'Yon-juu-ni' have to say?" The response relayed from "Forty-two" pleased him. A smile crept across his face. "I thought so," he said in satisfaction. "No, don't do anything tonight. Wait for my orders." He hung up without a goodbye once he'd received acknowledgement, then replaced the receiver and lay back down. The rain beat against the window as if trying to break it in a frenzy. </pre><p><a href="./">Back</a></p><p><a href=http://www.dreamhost.com/donate.cgi?id=216><img border=0 alt="Donate towards our web hosting bill!" src=https://secure.newdream.net/donate1.gif></a></p></body></html>