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Fire in Ice	By : YoukaiFate Category: InuYasha Crossovers > General Views: 3016 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the fandom, characters, etc. That privilidge belongs to the respective owners, etc. of Inuyasha and Yu Yu Hakusho. This story is for entertainment only, and not for profit.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, etc., of Inuyasha or Yu Yu Hakusho. This story is for entertainment purposes only, and not for profit.
FIRE IN ICE
A/N: Couple of notes. One, the quote in bold below was taken directly from the animated version of YYH, Episode 66 "Toguro’s Wish," and is not mine. Two, a certain insect mentioned in this chapter uses its brain to interpret what 30,000 lenses give it, turning regular movement into slow motion. I don’t believe that was known in the Feudal Era, but the result is pretty much the same. Third, I made a major mistake in saying the Dark Tournament is held every five years. It’s actually every fifty years. But as it’s already a part of the story, I will keep as is. As a last note, I wanted to thank everyone for their continued support and encouragement. It really warms the soul. =)
Chapter Ten
Fresh from her shower, Sango idly finger-combed her wet hair. Botan had yet to return from her "run" to the store, and Sango was too keyed up to take a nap like Kirara. Pacing the small room (after tying up her hair) only annoyed the small kitten, who shot the slayer a dirty look.
Shaking her head, Sango left to go wander into the kitchen, half-thinking that she could go clean the fish Kirara had caught earlier that morning. It was something to do at least while she waited on Botan. Never one to sit idle, Sango felt better keeping her hands busy, even if it was just scaling fish. She ended up using one of her own knives, not truly suited to the task, but better than nothing. She felt too shy to go rooting around in the miko’s cupboards, and the gods only knew what strange things she might find.
The kitchen itself was a wonder. Food was kept cold, preserved in the large white box that growled and hummed to itself like some animal. Opening it, Sango felt like she was invading the belly of the beast. There was the same running-water arrangement as in the bathing room, easy enough to understand. The "stove," though, baffled her. She couldn’t figure out where one might stoke the fire, unless it was in the middle part, which was accessed through an oddly swiveling door. There was no ashes, however, or wood stacked ready to light. Better to leave it alone.
It was peaceful here---if one ignored the growly fridge---and the view out the window over the sink was nice. Sango watched the antics of several birds in the trees and lost herself in her task. She nearly jumped out of her skin when the miko yanked open the screen door with a screech of un-oiled hinges, shoulders bowed under the weight of what she carried.
"Here, let me help you." Sango hastened over.
"No need," Genkai dismissed, dropping her burden with a solid thud by the door. Stretching, the priestess knuckled the small of her back, which audibly popped. "Gods, I forgot how heavy those things are."
"What are they?" Sango asked, curiosity getting the better of her normal reticence.
"A present for Yusuke." Genkai smirked, toeing the bundle but not explaining. She eyed Sango’s efforts. "What’s that? Dinner?"
"If you’d like." Sango nodded, eager to repay some of what she owed the priestess. "But…"
She flushed under the miko’s scrutiny, and admitted, "I don’t know how to work the stove."
Genkai snorted. "Neither do I. I’m a terrible cook, but I can at least burn water."
Sango looked at her, not understanding.
Raising her eyes to heaven, Genkai muttered, "Gods help me." Dropping them back to earth, she explained testily, "That, girl, means I only know how to boil water."
"Oh."
Genkai looked at her.
"You don’t get out much, do you?"
Sango’s brow wrinkled. "Actually, I’m outside all the---"
"That’s not what I meant."
Sango flushed, still uncertain of the joke.
"You always this serious?" Genkai demanded, exasperated. When Sango just stared at her, uncomfortable, she softened. "Gah. Don’t mind me, I’m just a grouchy old woman. You’ll get used to it."
"Yes, Genkai-sama."
"You don’t have to agree," Genkai grumped, smirking as she picked up the tea pot. "Here, I’ll make us some tea, and show you how to work the burners…"
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Genkai studied the girl steadily feeding vegetables to the stew she was making out of fish and whatever left unspotted in the fridge. Genkai really needed to get to the grocery store, or spend more time in the garden. But training Yusuke left the miko little time for anything else. With the Dark Tournament imminent, she’d let a lot of stuff slide. And yet there was a part of the old priestess that thrilled to the excitement of it all. Things had grown a bit dull since Yusuke left after his initial six months of training as her apprentice. The quiet, contemplative life Genkai had enjoyed before meeting the brash boy seemed to pale afterwards.
"You and I, Genkai, we were never meant to sit on the sidelines." The deep voice mocked her as old memories surged. Memories that seemed to surround Genkai more and more each passing year. Funny how things now kept reminding her of things then, with a poignancy all the more bitter upon recall, for they were as fresh in her mind’s eye as if they had happened yesterday.
Getting old sucked.
"Why? Why do we have to age and die? Why must we, as humans, be given such little time on this earth?"
Because that was the way it was. Genkai had never felt the need to question it; there was a certain fatalism in her that he had never understood. Never tried to, actually.
"I can’t help but think our human lives are nothing but a cruel joke. Here long enough to know what we want, then…it erodes."
And now he was back, messing up her life. The life she’d created out of the cracked fragments of theirs. And just when she’d started to open her heart a little, to let that damn annoying dimwit in. Finally start to care again. And here he came along to mess it all up. Again.
*Damn you, Toguro,* she thought suddenly, acidly, angry that he would take even that from her, the bastard. Angry that he would bring Yusuke, so young and wantonly naïve, into what had been their quarrel, their fight.
And angry at knowing there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it. Nothing but prepare these poor innocents, so certain of their own immortality---just as she, and he, had once been. Genkai knew Yusuke was afraid. As was Kurama, and Kuwabara, and even Hiei, though he refused to admit it. And well they should be. The Dark Tournament---it wasn’t for candy-pants. Facing a demon the size of a small barn had made more than one grown man literally crap his pants just before being crushed to death between ten-foot-long claws.
But facing that same demon, standing at only 4’3, and making him crap his pants, just upon sight of you---that made it all worth it.
Ah, those were the days. Gone now, like so much else. But Genkai was willing to pass the torch, so to speak, to a new generation. If she got their heads out of their asses long enough to see the light of it. Starting with…
"You ever been to a tournament, girl?"
Sango turned, spoon raised. She met the old miko’s gaze squarely. "Like the Dark Tournament?"
Studying her, Genkai smirked. "Ha. So you know already. Good. I won’t have to waste time explaining."
"Yusuke…" she began, but Genkai cut her off.
"Doesn’t matter." Leaning back in her chair, Genkai crossed her arms. "What does, is that it’s less than two months away. You think you can be ready?"
The girl was careful in her reply. "I…would like to be."
Well, that was refreshingly honest. But still too cautious. "The real question is: Will you be?"
The girl straightened, a look in her brown eyes that satisfied the old woman immensely. "Yes."
"Heh." Relaxing, Genkai took a sip of tea. Her eyes caught the slayer’s over the brim of her cup. "It’ll take a lot of hard work."
"I’m used to hard work, miko-sama."
"This shit ain’t for the faint-hearted. The stakes are high, twice-so because you’re human. These demons, they’re out for blood. Men die in these fights, men who have been training for years."
The taijiya smiled tightly, her gaze unflinching. "I have seen death, miko-sama."
True. More than most. Genkai acknowledged that with a raise of her cup, then took another sip.
"I am not afraid," the girl added quietly as she returned to stirring the stew pot. "I know what is entailed."
"Do you?" Genkai mused, then shrugged. "It won’t be easy. The training. We have to cram years into what amounts to seven weeks. I’ve got my hands full with Yusuke, which means I have little time to spare for you. I’ll do what I can, but most of your training will be under Hiei."
The long spoon stopped in mid-stir as the girl stiffened. "The fire demon?"
Genkai hid a smile behind her tea cup as she said airily, "What better way to learn then with the real thing? This is a demon tournament. And these demons won’t be the kind you’re used to. No fuzzy little caterpillars or giant rats gone amuck in some farmer’s field."
"We do more than just exterminate the pesky demons plaguing poor villages," the girl snapped.
"Ha! And there’s exactly my point. You said ‘we,’ as in plural. But in this tournament, you’ll be facing off one on one. Just you and him. And he’s gonna be a lot faster, harder and stronger then you can ever hope to dream, girl." Genkai stopped the girl’s angry protest with a raised hand. "What you gotta be is smarter, tougher and willing to risk it all to win."
The girl’s hot anger abruptly cooled. Her dark eyes were implacable as she said quietly, "What, actually, do I have to lose?"
Genkai smirked, but only said, "Better stir that, or it’ll burn."
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Sango stared unseeing out the window of her bedroom as she stroked Kirara. The kitten’s spine arched under her hand, and the purrs steadily increased as the neko did an about-face on the windowsill so Sango could catch the other side.
"I have a lot to do, Kirara," the girl admitted softly.
"Mew?" Kirara queried, sinking back on her haunches to look up at her.
"To prove myself," Sango explained, rather chagrinned by Genkai’s warnings about her "instructor." It seemed the fire demon had a few objections to including her in the tournament. Sango didn’t know if it was because of her sex or her species. Genkai had hinted at both, and warned her that the demon wouldn’t make it easy for her.
Which was good in a way. Sango didn’t want any coddling. She was already at a disadvantage---indulgence would only make it worse. But a part of her simmered over the thought that a demon who barely even knew her would pass judgment so quickly. Typical demon arrogance, to think everyone less then they!
Kirara growled.
"Well, every demon but you, Kirara," Sango conceded, gathering the neko into her arms and cuddling her to her cheek. The kitten purred like muffled thunder. Her black ears suddenly pricked as she peered curiously over the slayer‘s shoulder. Sango turned to see Botan beaming at them from the doorway.
"That is so adorable!" Botan gushed as she distractedly dropped her shopping bags on the bed. Coming over, the ferry-girl held out her fingertips for Kirara to sniff and then dutifully scratched behind the neko’s ears. "Oh, Sango, you don’t know how cute you two look together."
Startled, Sango blinked, but Botan ignored her to coo at Kirara, who just sopped it up. "Oh, you are just the dearest wittle thing, aren’t you, dahling?"
Kirara, like haughty cats everywhere, took the admiration as her just due, and when she grew tired of it, hopped down to go and inspect the crinkly bags Botan brought.
"Oh, no, Kirara, that’s not good for you." Botan hurried to intervene, pulling the bag away from the curious kitten and emptying the contents out on the bed. Kirara immediately claimed one of the empty plastic bags for a bed. "I hope you don’t mind, Sango, but I got a bit of everything. A girl can’t have enough beauty supplies, I always say!"
Again, the ferry-girl had done too much. Sango didn’t recognize half of it, even with Botan’s "talk" earlier. She’d had a lot of those today, the taijiya mused, but tried to pay attention as Botan held up each bottle to explain.
"Hand lotion. Bath lotion. Face lotion. Oh, and skin cream…"
That…was a lot of lotion. Sango hadn’t know they could be so specific.
"Facial cleanser. Make-up remover. Cleansing pads. Acne-prevention---that cleans the gunk out of your pores. Oh, and a mud mask."
Why someone would want to make a mask out of mud was a little beyond Sango, but she gamely nodded, even if her head was already spinning.
"Hair spray. A girl of the nineties," Botan solemnly advised, tapping the bottle for emphasis, "can’t have too much hair spray."
The blue-haired girl suddenly frowned, tapping the same finger to her pursed lips. "Or was that the eighties? Oh, well, it doesn‘t really matter. At least you have it for when you need it."
"Uh, Botan, you shouldn’t have gone to such trouble…"
"Nonsense!" Botan waved her protest aside. "But here’s your wax, just as ordered!"
Gratefully taking the small, round jar Botan held out with a flourish, Sango unscrewed the lid. She rubbed the tacky substance between two fingers, pleased by the smooth texture, though it would require body heat to make the wax more pliable. She already had the safflower, thanks to Genkai, as well as the loan of a pestle and mortar. Both had been a bit dusty---the old miko grumbled she didn’t have the time or patience for her herb garden like she used to, but had told Sango she was welcome to whatever she needed.
"Hey, is that gel?" Yusuke suddenly appeared like magic at the door, hair a little wild.
"Don’t worry, I didn’t forget you," Botan scolded, rooting around in her pile.
"That’s bintsuke-abura wax," Yusuke accused, staring at the jar in Sango’s hand. "That’s the crap sumo wrestlers use on their hair. That’s not what I asked for, Botan!"
"Well, then, isn’t it a good thing I didn’t buy it for you?" Botan shot back, finding her prize and tossing it over. Neatly snagging the bottle out of the air, Yusuke suspiciously read the label and then flashed her a brilliant grin.
"You’re a gift from the gods, Botan." Reverently kissing the bottle, Yusuke retreated.
"Kind of you to notice," Botan muttered, rolling her eyes. Standing up, she propped her hands on her hips and rounded on Sango. "Okay, now I’m twice as intrigued on what you intend to do with that stuff."
"Well, you’re more than welcome to come along and watch," Sango offered. Going over to the dresser, she picked up the neatly-wrapped package made out of leaves.
"What’s that?" Botan asked, crossing over.
"Equalizer," Sango said, smiling smugly.
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"Okay, that’s gross." Botan eyed the pile of dead bugs on the bathroom counter with acute distaste.
"They’re just bugs."
"Demon bugs," Botan said, shuddering. "And dead demon bugs. Which you’ve been saving. Which is just…"
Sango looked at her.
"Ew," the ferry-girl finished faintly.
"You don’t have to watch," Sango said, somewhat hurt, "if it bothers you that much."
"Oh, I need a front row seat for this," Botan said, perching on the side of the bathtub. "I can’t imagine what you intend to do with those…things."
"Well, first I have to crush them." Sango shrugged at the ferry-girl’s morbid fascination as she carefully picked up two of the dead dragonflies and deposited them in the small bowl Genkai had provided. Kirara watched the proceedings with grave dignity. Seeing as it was her efforts that had caught the bugs, Sango gave the kitten a grateful scratch behind the ears.
"Is that why you asked…" Botan gestured toward the small mortar and pestle, and visibly winced at the faint crunching sound as the slayer deftly twisted the pestle against the bowl’s porcelain sides.
"Yes." Sango said, distractedly adding, "I need a fine powder…"
Exchanging looks with Kirara, who sat on the counter beside her, Botan whispered, "That’s still ew."

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It was even more "ew" when Botan realized what the slayer intended the crushed bugs for.
"Eye shadow?"
"Well, it’s more like eye-opener, actually," Sango defended, rather proud of her clan’s secret recipe. The taijiya had learned long ago that the best defense against demons was to use their very bodies against them. Tradition held a demon’s remains be burned to ash, lest the restless spirit come seeking vengeance. The taijiya honored their foes by taking only what they might use---they didn’t waste the gifts given, and found use for what others could not. And dead bugs weren’t the worst, all in all. Botan might well faint if she knew that Sango used demon spit to polish her Hiraikotsu, or learned what type of youkai dung made the best stink-bombs.
"What’s the safflower for?" Botan gamely asked, trying to hide her disgust and failing miserably. "That makes a pretty red color, doesn’t it?"
"Helps hide the blood," Sango distractedly explained, adding it.
"Of course it does," Botan said, looking a little green.
Kirara meowed reassuringly.
"Dragonflies have the keenest eyesight of all youkai, at least ten times a human’s," Sango said, carefully measuring the amount of fine powder she was adding to the bintsuke-abura wax. She used the handy seashell, carefully scraped clean of all residue, to hold the resulting mixture. Warmed against her skin, the result could easily be applied whenever needed.
"There, done," she said, satisfied. Sango cleaned up her mess, washing her hands and carefully saving the various ingredients against future necessity. Wiping the bowl dry, she frowned thoughtfully. "I just need to test it."
Botan grinned. "Well, you know, there’s a whole slue of boys out there if you want to bat those long eyelashes at them. Of course, Yusuke’s pretty much taken, seeing as he’s with Keiko, and Kurama….well, eh…"
The ferry-girl blushed, and wouldn’t look at Sango. But then she clapped a hand over her mouth as an idea took hold. Blue eyes dancing, Botan said, "I know! I’ve the perfect test subject! Hiei hardly ever seems to notice anyone, let alone girls. But who better to test your new make-up on then that walking icicle? If you can get him, then you can get anyone!"
"That’s not exactly…" Sango frowned, but Botan was already off and running.
"Oh, it’s perfect! One look, and…meow!" Squinting coquettishly, Botan pawed the air somewhere by her ear in what she fondly thought of as her kitty-cat expression. Kirara gave her an incredulous look.
"Um…" Sango stirred uncomfortably, but then both girls froze as they heard the topic of their conversation make a low comment through the thin door.
"I just gotta drop off this hair gel," Yusuke explained as they paused outside the bathroom. "So, tell me, three eyes, how’d you get roped into training?"
"Hn."
"Well, that’s encouraging." Yusuke dripped sarcasm. "Sheesh! Don’t look so overjoyed. You get to spend your days pouncing on a lithesome young hottie while I get tackled by a dried up old stick of a crabapple."
"It’s a ridiculous waste of time." The biting scorn that laced every word made Sango’s grip tighten on the small seashell in her hand. "Training a weak, pathetic human who can’t even hold her own against Kurama---where’s the challenge in that? I should do us all a favor, and just run her through."
Botan’s eyes rounded as she took in Sango’s expression. The boys, heedless of their audience, continued.
"Oy! Don’t you think that’s a little harsh?"
"Girls have no business in the Dark Tournament, especially weak human females who don’t know their place." Loathing, cold and sharp, cut through every word. "I’m content that one honest fight with a real demon will have her run screaming for the hills."
Sango’s eyes flashed as she almost wrenched the door off its hinges opening it. Her face was dead white, two bright spots appearing high on her cheeks as her angry gaze swept the two boys with scathing disdain. "Is that so? Well, then, let me show you how a real woman fights."
Pointing her seashell at Hiei, all but trembling in rage, she snarled, "I challenge you, demon!"
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- 9
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Fire in Ice