Spirits, including the messengers of death, do not need sleep. And Botan had always thought the girls who would sleep when it wasn't necessary were being silly: why waste time in unconsciousness that you could spend getting ahead of the never-ending murders and car crashes or enjoying time with friends?

But during her romps with Yusuke and the others, there were times when she fell asleep; she was overwhelmed by excitement or sick with grief. Peaceful sounds like Yukina giggling or Shizuru's dry jokes began to lull her away, and she nodded off, smiling and later refreshed.

And then there were the times when, instead of laughter as her lullaby, she cried, thinking of the distant death she touched every day beginning to affect her beyond just being an occupation. There were the times where that strange, unneeded darkness were a blessing. The times where she would cradle the pillow, burying her face into it, and praying that things would be better when she awoke... and sometimes getting that wish.

But that was eons ago. Yusuke and the others, even Hiei, even Touya, Suzuki, even Yomi and Mukuro and Natsume and Enki and all of Raizen's contemporaries were long dead. Yukina fell asleep one day and never woke up; she didn't giggle once when Botan escorted her away. Botan's last taste of Shizuru's wry humor had been an attempt to cheer her that hadn't worked.

She stood out on the balcony of Koenma's palace, staring at the cloudy sky, jolts of nervous electricity working better than any coffee ever would. She was awake, alert, scanning the horizon line for the horror that she knew was just beyond it.

Hinageshi, grown so much over the centuries, was gripping her hand, eyes flashing angrily at the coming danger. Ayame was on her other side, and Botan was grateful for it. The darker woman was as steady as a pillar. Ayame's eyes were cold; a kind of elegant fury creased her face.

Koenma was standing behind them, quiet and resigned. He whispered to the girls and Jorge that they always knew it would come. Eventually, Enki and those like him would die, and others would ascend and destroy those ideals and laws he had made. The system Yusuke proposed was not always going to work, just as the ancient, three-way stalemate that checked Raizen, Yomi and Mukuro for nearly a millennium eventually failed.

"And we knew that, we always knew that," sighed Koenma, as the coming storm ascended over the horizon. They could see fires starting as the demon mob, tired of the peace Yusuke and his ancestor's contemporaries had established, began to sack the villages and towns along the banks of the River Styx.

"It's strategic," Hinageshi muttered, as the smoke from the blazes began to blot out their view. "Sending groups to every village along the way to the Palace. Probably only the bringing the elite here, but he's keeping the others busy so they won't trip him up when he attacks us."

"And they're smoke screening us." Botan squeezed Hinageshi's hand. "Probably moving much faster now. For all we know, the main forces have been hiding in the garden since..."

A loud crash was heard, as the palace's entrance was brought down. The entire foundation of the building shook, and their balcony observation post swayed dangerously.

"Botan, you idiot!" Koenma yelled, looping hisarms around Ayame and Botan's waists to steady them. Jorge grabbed Hinageshi. "You just had to open your fat mouth!"

Loud, clanging steps were heard downstairs. The messengers of death were screaming; what they had long observed from the safety of eternal, if not immortal, life was finally hitting home. The ogres were trying to fight, and failing miserably; how long had it been since they were full-fledged demons, fighting to survive? Millennia of paperwork as the minions of Enma and his son had sealed their fate.

"That last one who screamed was Suisen, wasn't it?" Koenma asked. "I yelled at her for bossing Russell and John around last week... I swore then I would recognize her screeching anywhere..."

"Suisen's chambers are directly beneath this balcony," said Ayame dully, robotically. Botan knew she was shutting down, becoming even more somber and resigned than usual. "Just two floors separate us. And today was her day off."

Jorge moved towards the balcony door, and quietly lifted his thorny bat. Ayame's resignation was catching, and he was holding it steadily. Despite the sweat trickling down his face (or was it tears? wondered Botan), he was prepared and not going to move.

"We've got one chance, girls," said Koenma softly. "And it is now. I guarantee you, somewhere in the demon realm, or even in the human one, there are demons that disagree with this prairie justice. Demons who still think Yusuke had the right idea."

"Koenma-sama, we are not leaving you," Botan said in a quiet, yet firm voice. Ayame and Hinageshi nodded resolutely.

"We would rather die with you, Koenma-sama!" exclaimed Hinageshi.

"We have pledged to you our loyalty, Koenma-sama, and we do not think that your darkest hour is when we should back down," Ayame agreed.

Koenma smiled grimly. "Being loyal to me isn't going to do a damn thing, girls," he said flatly. "Right now, you must be loyal to Yusuke's memory. Find other people who are, and overthrow this mob!"

Jorge yelled out; the door back into the palace had been smashed. His thorny bat repelled just enough to keep from killing them all. And even then, debris smacked into Hinageshi and a sickening crunch as she fell over told the others that her skull was probably fractured.

"GO!" Koenma yelled, scooping up Hinageshi before she hit the ground and thrusting her into Botan's arms.

And this time, Botan and Ayame did not need to be told twice. Both women summoned their oars and soared away. Their backs felt the warmth of the fire and the force of Koenma's final Mafuukan power strike gave them a boost towards the rip in reality that would take them into the human realm.

And as she traded the spirit realm's pink sky for the humans' blue, cradling the unconscious Hinageshi and trying to stop her bleeding, sparing the occasional glance to Ayame, noticing the tears that the wind instantly dried on her cheek, not thinking about Koenma, Jorge and all the others she had known for millennia in the past tense and trying to navigate that sky she once laid under, surrounded by her mortal friends, Botan really wished she could sleep away her nightmarish reality.

0.0.

Originally intended as an answer to a yyh100 drabble challenge: Insomnia. But then, well, it multiplied. (cough) As you may have noticed.