Disclaimer:

This story is rated M for language, sexual situations, and descriptions of gore, torture, and emotional distress. Although these themes may not appear in every chapter, they will absolutely appear within the course of the story. If you are uncomfortable with any of these. I suggest you find another fic to enjoy. I do not claim to own the works of Yu Yu Hakusho; I claim only my plot and original characters. This story is set following the events of the television series with manga elements as well.

"Aw, come on! Just one drink. Please?" Pale blue eyes pleaded with me. David leaned over my desk, one hand flat against the wood of my workstation. His khaki slacks were creased at his pelvis from the long day of sitting at his own desk. His white and blue plaid shirt was still tucked in, though, and his bright yellow tie swung in front of him.

My hands stilled over the keyboard as I paused entering the long list of amounts I'd been typing into the spreadsheet. Raising an eyebrow, I turned my own brown eyes up to meet his gaze. "You have asked me every Friday for the past month for 'just one drink.'" The corner of my lip quirked up in a half smile as I slowly shook my head. "Why is today any different?"

I received toothy grin back in response. "Because you're getting tired of me asking. If you just say 'yes,' I'll stop asking!"

Completely removing my hands from over the keyboard, I leaned back in my chair and crossed my legs, the material of my straight-legged jeans rustling from the movement. Casual Fridays were my favorite – I could actually refrain from wearing a skirt. I smoothed the hem of my chemise and rolled my eyes at the blue-eyed man. "If I say yes, then you'll just start asking different questions."

David cocked his head and tried to look innocent, to which I could have called out 'bullshit!' and no one would have argued. "I have no idea what you're talking about. But come on! One drink!"

A tanned hand reached out from behind me to grab my stapler. "Come on, Ria. Give the poor guy a break." Angela smiled as she sauntered off to her own desk caddy-corner from mine. She was a tall, long-legged woman with striking Puerto Rican features. Her straight black hair was pulled back in a tight pony-tail. She glanced back over her shoulder to wink one of her honey brown eyes at David. I threw a fake glare in her direction. Traitor.

"Just say yes so he'll stop begging, it's pathetic!" Garrett, another of our co-workers, was playing with balled up pieces of paper, shooting them into varying trash cans around him – or rather, at the trash cans.

"God, what is this? Peer pressure?" I was grumbling now. My two other coworkers had taken David's side nearly every time he'd attempted to ask me out. While I would admit he was handsome, smart, and financially stable, I did not want to get involved. "David, I've said it once, I'll say it again and every time after – dating coworkers is a very bad idea. So, no. No drink."

I resumed my work as David trudged back to his own desk. His shoulders had slumped in his over-exaggerated sulk. Although I did my best to ignore his pouting at number twelve rejection statement, a small part of my brain nagged at me to feel sorry for the guy, no matter how relentless he might be.

"C'mon, give the poor kid a break. He's trying so hard to impress you." Garrett's baritone voice was hushed as he leaned over to me from his desk. His brown hair, only a few shades darker than my own, had been recently buzzed down. He was clean shaven, as he was every day, and I noted the years of military service that still edged into his style. I was glad he remained seated, as his 6'2" frame towered eight inches over my own.

Letting a half smile slip to my lips, I reminded Garrett he'd originally applauded me for sticking to my moral code and refusing to date a coworker. If two of the six employees in an office allow anything more than friendship to come between them, especially if it goes awry, spells nothing but trouble. After David's persistence, though, Garrett's resolve had quickly waned.

"He's nice, I'll give him that. But we've already got one perv trying to feel me up here." I motioned my thumb back over my shoulder at the partners' dark offices. Thankfully, our supervisor had decided to take an early weekend. "I don't need David doing the same."

Garrett frowned at me as he leaned back to his normal position. "He's not as bad as Franklin…" He spoke, of course, to the younger of the two partners of the accounting firm. Although Franklin was married to the elder partner's daughter, had three beautiful children with her, and ran the business nearly eighty percent of the time, he still managed to have the time and gall to be a lecherous pervert.

"No, he's not as bad. But can you imagine if he even thought something was going on? I'd be living in a hell made of nothing but paperwork for weeks." I shuddered at the thought and shook my head quickly to rid myself of the feeling. "I know Angela can afford to tell him off with that fiancé of hers, but I just can't."

Angela looked back over her shoulder at me with a sympathetic smile. The aforementioned fiancé was from a well-to-do family; Angela could stop working anytime she wanted and they would support her. She liked the work, though.

Unfortunately for me, I was single with no family to speak of. My parents, who'd adopted me late in their lives, had passed when I was 19. I'd only lived with them for 3 years at that point, but I loved them. My mother hadn't lasted very long after my father had passed. I'd received enough inheritance to get through college without having to work full time and set aside a bit for emergencies. It wasn't enough to live on, though, considering I was still maintaining the house they'd passed on to me. I'd made the mistake of taking out a loan to completely remodel it.

I needed my job with its pleasant paycheck and the benefits with it. Garrett needed his as well – he would be going home to his wife and new baby tonight. He was, as my mother used to say, "good people." If he didn't have a new family to support, he would have kicked Franklin's ass by now.

Allowing myself a few more minutes of work, I completed my spreadsheet and glanced at the clock. Only five minutes left of the day? I think I could head out a little early – I wasn't the one locking up tonight. Shutting down my workstation, I grabbed my purse and gave a little wave to Garrett to let him know I'd be leaving.

My hand was on the outer door handle as I heard David call out, "One drink!" Shaking my head, I waved at my coworkers. "Bye Garrett, by Angela. No, David."

Climbing into my silver sedan, I let my body settle into the habit of beginning my trip home. My brain switched from work to relaxation as I made a mental list of what I had planned for the weekend. First and foremost on my list was to stop at the Coffee Shoppe downtown, just a few minutes' drive from work. I needed a large cup of chai with a few espresso shots – caffeine was essential for a Friday afternoon for the cleaning my house I had planned.

When I arrived downtown, it was already turning into a busy night and I ended up having to park two blocks down from the Coffee Shoppe. It was packed already by the time I walked through the doors and groaned at the sight of the line.

The Coffee Shoppe was the typical college hangout. The layout was large and industrial, and the ceilings were high to give the illusion of more space. A small stage was placed in the back corner for open mic nights and numerous overstuffed chairs and couches were scattered around to relax in, as well as bar-height tables with accented stools to chat at. Even though I'd graduated with my Bachelor's four years prior, I still enjoyed the atmosphere. It also didn't hurt that every single barista had my order down to a science.

Thankfully, the line moved quickly and the majority of those ordering took theirs to go. Due to my purposeful lack of plans, I decided I'd order mine to stay and hang out for a while. I was contemplating ordering something to eat when a male voice called my name.

"Ria! Haven't seen you in a while!" A young man with dark brown hair pulled into a small bun at the back of his head was smiling at me from behind the counter. He was lean with wide shoulders, made to look even more so by the typical barista apron. Thin glasses were perched low on his nose, and dark brown, thin-almond eyes peered over the edge of them at me.

I smiled widely and gave a little wave to the man; only one other customer stood in front of me in line. "Hey, Clay. That's your fault, not mine, you know. I'm here all the time. Somebody had to hold down the fort while you went off to find yourself."

Clayton let out a barking laugh as he leaned over the espresso machine, his eyes crinkling at me before he turned back to the drink he was making. He was a fairly attractive man of German and Japanese descent. Almost a decade older than me, he was my favorite barista I'd met at the Coffee Shoppe – and the only one I'd consider an actual friend.

As I reached the counter, I made to say hi to the little blonde, Jessie, behind the register, but Clayton cut us both off by spouting off my order – large chai latte with a double shot of espresso and spices.

Jessie rolled her eyes. "I know what Ria gets, O.K.? You're not the only one who knows her!" Turning back to me, she shook her head and gave me a wry grin. "Honestly, he takes a few weeks off and comes back thinking the Shoppe went to hell in a handbasket!"

"You ruined all the hard work I put in here!" Clayton was yelling back at her.

"Re-designing the easel that goes out front does not mean I ruined it!" Jessie took my cash and I tossed the change into the tip jar as Clayton slid the large mug in front of me – it was too fast, he must have started making it the moment he saw me. I smiled at both of them and sidled off with my mug to one of the overstuffed chairs near a window. Thankfully, my RBF scared off anyone who wanted to sit near me and I was left alone as I enjoyed my drink.

After half an hour, I found my drink nearly gone and my attention focused on a silly game I'd found on my phone. I was thinking about calling it a day and heading home when Clayton plopped down in the chair caddy-corner to mine, his apron left behind the counter. I glanced up at him. "Aren't you supposed to be working?"

He kicked his feet up to rest on the coffee table in between the chairs. "Some of us like to take breaks to chat with our favorite caffeine addicts."

"You only like me because I tip well." I set my phone to the side and finished off my chai. I hadn't seen the man for several weeks and it was good to see he hadn't run away indefinitely.

Clayton was grinning, his natural charm seeping from every pore. I'd witnessed his charisma from watching him work in the Coffee Shoppe, earning bigger and bigger tips from his female patrons – and the occasional male. He was a very likeable person. "Eh, good tips plus you're not completely intolerable."

"Gee, thanks." I rolled my eyes at him and sent him a wry smirk. "So, where'd you run off to?"

Clayton leaned back in his chair, folding his hands behind his head. "Back to Japan for a bit. Apparently there was a big ol' happening over there not too long ago. Thought I'd check it out and report back to you."

For a moment, I wanted to wipe the gentle smile off his face – he had been gone too long from the Shoppe. He was unloading all of his pent up charm on me and I was not in the mood for playful flirting. I gave him a wave of my hand to urge him to continue.

"A couple old friends reached out to me. Said there was a shift in the universe, like a wall collapsing." There was a shit-eating-grin on his face, like he was laughing at his own joke. "So I decided to visit. I might go back again soon though."

Sitting up, I stretched my back and neck. My body was tired of sitting. "Long plane rides, avoiding work – why wouldn't' you go back?"

He chuckled at me and sat up as I had. His dark brown eyes locked on to me from behind his glasses. "You could always come with. I'm sure we'd have a great time."

I threw my head back and laughed. Clayton was always inviting me on his trips – I never took him seriously. "Oh, sure, overseas trip with my barista. Let me go pack my bags!"

"I detect sarcasm, missy!" Clayton grinned toothily and leaned back again. "Yeah, too forward, I know. How about instead of a trip to Japan we grab dinner at the Japanese steakhouse up the road?"

I waited for him to crack a joke, or give any kind of indication he wasn't serious. Unfortunately, his face had relaxed into a gentle smile. He was serious… What was it about today that was causing not one, but two of the males in my life to ask me out? Don't get me wrong, I wasn't typically asked on dates by others because I'm unattractive – I honestly felt that I was pretty most days, save for the general insecurities I had about my body (too much curve, too little curve, several scars, not tall enough, … I could go on).

I wasn't asked out because I wasn't social and I liked it that way. I had no family to speak of, I refused to take part in college parties, clubs, or Greek life while I was in school, and my coworkers were really the only people I got along with. Any others who knew my name at all outside of work were from my regular haunts – grocery stores, coffee shops, and the woman from a tiny craft shop up the street from whom I bought the yarn for my knitting projects.

Yes, I knit. I'm basically a hermit, it seemed fitting. All I was missing was a plethora of cats and I would be set.

"Ria?" Clayton's quiet voice broke me from my internal musings of why two, let alone even one man had asked me out today.

"Oh – sorry! You, uh, kind of caught me off guard." I had to shake my head briefly as I blinked my eyes furiously to dispel my confused expression.

Clayton sniggered at my response. "Well, what do you think? Dinner – with me?" His expression was calm, but I could see his leg bouncing with nervousness. He was hopeful. I felt guilt gnawing at me already – I didn't want to turn him down, but I didn't want to go on a date with him.

"I don't know, Clay. I don't really do that…"

"What, you don't eat?"

A quiet chuckle escaped me as a smile slipped onto my lips. "No, you goof. I don't exactly go on dates." And it was true, I hadn't gone on an actual date since freshman year of college – no one I'd met had seemed worth the time. I enjoyed my solitude and the option to run back to my house to bask in the alone time I always craved.

Clayton's face fell slightly. "Nah, I get it. You hate me. I waited too long, I disappeared –"

"I don't hate you, dumbass." I shook my head at him and rolled my eyes for good measure. "I literally don't date. I haven't for years and I don't want to burden someone with how ridiculously boring I am."

"You're not boring!"

I fixed Clayton with a skeptical look and stood from my chair, preparing to head home. "Clay, I'm an accountant with an affinity for chai and knitting. The Coffee Shoppe is the most exciting place I willingly go on a Friday."

Brown eyes closed as Clayton shook his head. I grabbed my empty mug and made to make my way back up to the counter, but Clayton was up and snagged the mug from my hands before I had the time to gasp. He grinned at me again as he backed away, heading back behind the counter to return to his shift. "Alright, I don't think you're that boring, but if you say so. I'll convince you!"

I rolled my eyes at the man and made my way to the exit. Waving, I said goodbye to Clayton and the other baristas before heading out. The bells hanging above the door jingled as I stepped out on to the sidewalk and sighed. It was already after 6 o'clock but the traffic was still heavy. I made it to the corner and pressed the button to cross the street, contemplating the strangeness of the day as I waited.

Being asked out by David was beginning to become a habit, but Clayton? Now, that was just odd. We'd become friends, but hadn't really ever taken the time to spend time together outside of the Coffee Shoppe. I felt rattled and elected a night of laziness, coupled with the possibility of a glass of wine and a bubble bath, was in order.

The lights changed at the crosswalk and I heard a loud 'ding' to signal it was safe for me to cross. I stepped down into the street, trying to remember exactly what, if any, wine I had in my home.

The horrible sound of tires screeching drew me from my contemplation. I turned to look over my shoulder, just in time to see a green sedan whirling into the same lane I was now standing in. I didn't realize exactly what direction it was heading until the millisecond before it hit me. My legs crumpled beneath me as the corner of the front bumper slammed into me. My body spun and slammed into the side of the car; my shoulder cracked a window.

I was far more aware of the situation when I was flat on my back. The car had slammed to a halt by running into a light post. My arms, torso, and hips were on fire. I could hear a person screaming from the sidewalk. Breathing in shallow gasps, I attempted to keep my eyes open as pain spread through my body. My brain wanted to shut down, to save me from the pain, but I refused. Shouts of onlookers were muffled.

'Call 911!'

'Is she alive?!'

'What in the hell happened?'

'What was that guy thinking?!'

"Ria!"

Oh. That was my name. I looked around as much as I could, trying to remain still in case I had injured my spine. My eyes stung – I think my forehead was bleeding. I wanted to wipe it away from my eye, but my joints screamed when I twitched my arm.

"Ria!" There was a blurry figure above me – male, dark hair glasses.

"Cl-Clayton?" I gritted my teeth as I gasped and pain bloomed in my chest. "The… the asshole that – that hit me…"

Clayton attempted to shush me and pressed a small towel to my head. I could detect the smell of coffee and I briefly wondered if the used towel would get coffee in my bloodstream. The fabric was soaking up the blood from my face, though; I must have been cut.

"No, tell me…" My voice croaked and I gasped again from the pain. I was beginning to feel just a touch angry. "Is… is he okay?"

Clayton sighed and he placed his other hand on the other side of my head, stroking my hair. It felt kind of nice… "Yeah, Ria. He's okay."

"Good." I bared my teeth in a scowl and ground out, "'cause I'm going to fucking kill him."

Clayton let out a choked laugh. Shaking his head, he called out to the crowd who'd gathered to find out where the ambulance was.

Something cut through my pain – the fire that was burning in my chest was beginning to die down. I wondered if it was adrenaline from my anger that had begun to build at the driver. A tingling sensation spread across my hairline and underneath the towel Clayton still had pressed against my head.

"The ambulance is almost here, Ria." I focused on Clayton's face again. He was examining my face for any more cuts and made to pull the towel back just to check on the wound. I watched as his facial expression changed from worry to utter shock as he pulled the fabric away.

"Clay, w-what's wrong?" I must have had quite the blow to the head – in the next millisecond, Clayton's look of shock had disappeared completely and he stared down at me. Shaking his head, he let out a sharp laugh.

"You got hit by a car, Ria. That's what's wrong." A small part of my brain wanted to argue – something, some kind of emotion had crossed his face. Something else was wrong and he wasn't letting on. "Ria, the ambulance is almost here."

Confusion gnawed at me. His voice was suddenly muffled, as though someone had stuffed my ears with those little cotton balls and he had backed up a few hundred feet to talk to me. There was black around my vision.

When did I get so sleepy? My eyes continually drooped closed and my will to keep them open was fading. A quick nap sounded like a very good idea to my rattled brains. Closing my eyes just for a moment wouldn't hurt, right? The ambulance was almost here, they would give me something to go to sleep – why not beat them to the punch?

Clayton continued to talk at me in muffled tones, but I ignored him as I gave in to the overwhelming need to just… stop… thinking.

Author's Note: I am so excited to be writing again. This story has been a long-time coming. I have been attempting to write a Yu Yu Hakusho story for years. However, I finally feel like I am getting into the swing of my writing style. Also, it's much easier to write when you have a plan for a story… I had a previous story up, but it was… just gross. Terrible writing, no definite plot, and basically every cliché possible in fanfiction. But, it's gone now.

I worked on this story for months before deciding to post the first chapter. I wrote over 50,000 words before this particular chapter was even complete. I apologize if there are mistakes, I don't have a Beta reader currently.

Again, I'm excited to be writing. This is a slow build story, just forewarning you. I will be updating once a month – twice a month if I get excited.

Side note: This is the second draft posting of chapter one. (4/26/16)