Warnings: None, aside from end-of-fic ennui.

NOTE:

I'm placing my note at the beginning of the chapter this final time around.

First off, title credits for this chapter go to composer Jóhann Jóhannsson.

Second off, THANK YOU if you reviewed the previous chapter. This is the last time I'll be able to thank people for reviewing this particular story, and I'm a bit emotional as I type out your names. I looked forward to hearing from each of you when I posted chapters. I really got to know your names, user icons, and review-styles over the years. You all feel like friends to me. It's with sincere and deeply felt gratitude that I thank you this final time: DeathAngel457, rya-fire1, Kazumi Kuwabara, Ikara-o-Kage, Sanguinary Tide, Mitsuka-sensei, OdinsReaper, Kaiya's Watergarden, Aria2302, Zabirel, Sures1109, AkaMizu-chan, Ochiphius, Dec Jane, Rianna, Esprgirl, MaoIsSleepy, SilverDragonsTail, middlekertz, Takara Taji, ILoveLilies247, A.K. Hakusho, EdenMae, ShadowFireFox13, 13, FierceFalcon, TheNegativeOne6661, Baoh Joestar, Guest (x2), himeko63, jcampbellohten, LenaMiaH, Seichou Maki, LadyEllesmere, Cerelia Blythe, Anei, j.d.y., insomniac, angelbeets, Fail2Ninja, BarbyChan4ever, Zoe Walker, procrastilove, backoff22, The Shay-Shay, BloodySandGirl, Nekofairy, Jayrock102, and CaelynM.

That being said…

Here we are. The very last chapter of "Future Talk." It's been a long journey. Six years, 860,000 words (!), 105 chapters. I'm…a bit numb, to be honest. Not entirely sure what to say, other than THANK YOU. There is no way Future Talk could exist without the help, love, support, criticism, flames, and feedback of the people who reviewed, PMed, emailed, tweeted, threw eggs at, or otherwise contributed to this story. I'm so incredibly grateful to you all. This story was welcomed into the fandom with open arms, something I hadn't expected to happen when I first dreamed up Dani and her adventures. I wouldn't trade my time on this site for anything.

Now that "Future Talk" has come to a close, I feel…well, I feel a sense of very real grief, but more than that, a sense of overpowering joy. This story is a mess in places. It veered off on strange tangents. It's bloated and limping and meandering and cliché and bizarre—

…but right now, I feel proud. Proud of how readers helped me shape the story, and proud I could simply produce something of this length.

I'm also proud to reach the end for another reason: I've had this story's final sentence rattling through my head since I penned chapter one, and today, I finally get to share that long-planned final sentence with you. You also find out why "Future Talk" was titled "Future Talk" in this chapter; I've had that line rattling through my head since chapter one, too.

You know, for all the times I polled the readers asking which romantic pairing they'd like to see…it was always Hiei speaking these oh-so-important lines in my head.

It's always been Hiei, even when I didn't know for sure.

Also, before I forget—don't remove this story from your "follow" list, if it's on there. I have some alternate endings I could write and post, and I'd upload them here. Not sure if I'll write them or not, but in case I do, keep this on your alert list. And be sure to follow my Facebook page for more updates about the forthcoming "Future Talk" rewrite.

I'm having some anxiety as I write this final note. Maybe that's why I'm getting so longwinded.

Saying goodbye is so hard.

Sharing this ending is so hard.

This ending is…well, it's my ideal ending. But I know it might not be to everyone's tastes. So, here's a word of comfort: Anything that feels unresolved, will be resolved.

"Speak" and "Touched" take place in the same universe as "Future Talk" and act as indirect sequels to "Future Talk" (and in that order—first "Future Talk", then "Speak", and lastly "Touched"). Once I finish "Speak" and "Touched," I'll be writing a series of one-shots that tie up the loose ends of all three stories. The collection will be titled "Future Talk: Coda." So…have patience. I can't say more without ruining Dani's presence in "Speak/Touched", but please know that this…

Well. This might be the last chapter, but it's more certainly not The End.

And, without further ado…the final chapter of "Future Talk."

Future Talk

by Graphospasm

Chapter 105:

"End Theme"

Kurama left for his human life the next morning. Genkai and Yukina saw him off. I watched from the shadows of the trees, then tailed the fox as he descended the temple's many stairs toward the highway. When he reached the bottom, he sighed and passed a hand through his red hair.

"I know you're there, Hiei," he said.

I emerged from the trees a few paces behind him. He looked over his shoulder and gave me a tired smile.

"You want something, I take it," he said.

"I need you to watch over Dani," I said.

Kurama turned to face me, green eyes hooded below a furrowed brow. Light slipped between the leaves overhead, dappling his hair, scarlet and crimson shifting between light and shadow. It was hard to see him clearly. Then again, it was always hard to read the fox.

"She is in a restorative coma," he said. "I doubt even our reckless Dani could get into trouble when she is so incapacitated."

Though his voice held gentle, teasing humor, his eyes were of steel.

"When she wakes," I said. "When she wakes, look after her."

"Forgive me, but I surmised that would be your occupation once she woke, not mine," he said, tone dry. "Unless you don't plan on remaining present in her life?"

My energy spiked, blazing hot in the air around me. Kurama was smart. It was vastly inconvenient. The fox was incapable of minding his own business.

"I see," Kurama said. "You don't plan on remaining in her life." His lips thinned, eyes flashing with the barest spark of angry gold. "Abandoning your courtship so soon?"

"No, you fool," I snapped. "I would never abandon our courtship. Don't be an idiot."

He pinned me with a dark look. "Then what? Why do you need me to watch her if you plan on continuing your courtship?"

I couldn't tell him. Not because I didn't want to, but because I couldn't. It was part of the deal. Though I hadn't yet formally accepted the deal, nor had the deal been declared before Mukuro's court, I would play by its terms. I said nothing for a moment, staring at the fox, willing him to understand without having to say anything. Luckily, his inconvenient intelligence for once did me a bit of good. He stared a moment more before his eyes cleared.

"This has something to do with your visit to Mukuro, I take it," he murmured. "What is she demanding of you, that would keep you away from Dani's side?"

I said nothing. I merely turned away.

"Hiei—you can tell me," Kurama said. His voice was gentle, soft. "I care for you and Dani both. Perhaps I can help, find a way to make Mukuro—"

"I've made my decision," I said. "It's for the best. And I need you to watch over Dani while I'm gone."

I did not wait for his reply, incensed as I knew it would be, or even for his promise. The fox cared for Dani. He said it himself. If I was not there, he would watch over her.

I leapt into the trees, and left the fox behind.

Kurama called it a "restorative coma." Genkai called it a "sleep of the spirit." I called it ridiculous, once Dani slept for a week and showed no sign of waking.

Not that I could have spoken to her, even if she awoke. I had made my decision. She had blessed it when we communed inside her soul. And that meant another goodbye could not happen even if I wanted it to.

And I did want it to. But I knew better than to tempt Mukuro's wrath.

I passed the next days in solitude. I spent time at Dani's unknowing side, and time in the forest at the edges of Genkai's property. I meditated and exterminated many of the weak, rogue demons in those woods as I prepared myself for what was to come. I tried not to think of Dani, even though miles away I still felt her. I felt her in my blood, in the deepest recesses of my soul. I had no intention of forgetting her, but lingering in the memory of her laughter and her eyes would only make acting on my decision harder.

It was hard enough as it was.

Try though I might, however, I could not get her out of my head.

Anywhere I went, there she was. She was in the shadow of the tall fir tree I'd climbed, with her in my arms, months before when she first attempted meditation. I could still feel her clinging to me, scared of the heights I would not allow to harm her. Her voice lingered in the halls of Genkai's temple, the ghost of music played long before. I saw her in the constellations, in the garden, in the kitchen, on the roof, in the air. Her memory followed like a patient, hungry wolf, waiting for a moment of weakness to pounce and grip my mind tight with the recollection of her scent or touch.

My chest tightened with pain every time I recalled her face, the color of her hair, the glitter of her eyes.

My chest tightened further still when I remembered I was to leave her, soon.

I dreamed of her, when I slept. Fleeting glimpses of her hands around the neck of a guitar, fingers clever and quick. I'd never seen hands as dexterous as hers. For all her lack of other graces, her hands remained a testament to her will. To her intelligence. To her love of music and dedication to the craft she valued most.

My own hands were rough, calloused, and capable. But my fingers were nowhere near as quick as hers.

I wished she was awake to teach me more.

I wished she was awake to hear my forbidden goodbye.

Six days after my trip to see Mukuro, I waited outside the temple until I sensed everyone had gone to sleep. I had not eaten that day, distracted by solitary training in the mountains. Yukina had left a boxed dinner for me in the refrigerator, the cold contraption that kept food from spoiling. We'd had no such things in the area of Demon World where I was raised (bandits cared little for the reek of rot) but I saw the utility of the object. Humans, for all their weakness, possessed a keen sense of ingenuity lacked by many demons. Despite my disdain for their race, I was not so prideful as to deny them their small, infrequent credits.

I took the food from the refrigerator, sparing a moment to look at the bento in the freezer that contained Dani's heart. I did not open the bento. I ran a finger down the cold, stiff cloth surrounding the box, instead. A small puff of steam eked from where my finger met cloth. Eventually I shut the freezer door. Just as I did, I heard something in the hallway: footsteps. I waited, motionless, until their owner reached the kitchen. It was merely Ren. She flinched when she entered the room and saw me standing by the table.

"Oh—ohayo," she said, stumbling over the syllables. "Ohayo, Hiei."

I smirked. Dani claimed Ren a genius, but the woman couldn't even grasp a simple 'hello' yet. Ren spoke much like Dani in the days when I first met her, only with an even poorer grasp of grammar.

Ren walked past me with a hesitant smile. She carried Dani's ukulele, the small instrument tucked under an arm. She didn't carry it with the same easy assurance Dani normally handled the instrument. Dani usually wrapped her fingers around the front of the neck where it met the object's body, palm against the strings. Ren tried to carry it around the thinnest part of the body like a gourd. The strings twanged and pinged when they brushed against her clothes. Dani's hold muted the strings and kept the instrument quiet. Of the pair of them, it was clear only Dani had a musical affinity.

Ren went to the table and set down the ukulele. She took food from the refrigerator, as I had, and ate it straight out of its bento box. When she caught me looking, she smiled, rice sticking to her cheek. I turned away. I would eat in solitude outside.

Before I could reach the door, however, I heard Ren say my name.

I looked over my shoulder. She scrubbed the rice off her cheek, set down the food, and put the ukulele on the table. Her eyes held a hard quality, like she was about to reprimand someone. I scoffed. She certainly had nothing to berate me about. Not yet, anyway.

"Hiei," she repeated. Her blonde hair stood up at the crown, messy and unkempt. "You, Dani." She paused, sucking on the inside of her cheek. "You, Dani…together. Yes?"

I nodded. Her meaning, conveyed with broken words and resolute eyes, was clear enough.

She bobbed her head, absorbing what I'd indicated. Her hands wandered to the table, to the ukulele, and picked it up. She cradled the object awkwardly against her chest. Dani kept it in a much looser hold, confident and relaxed.

"You, and me," she said, gesturing between us. "We…care. Dani. We care Dani." Her head tilted to the side. "You, me. Friends. Because we care Dani."

Ren and I, friends, for our shared love of Dani? If caring for the same person constituted a reason for friendship, then Ren and I were…friends, much as the word made me sneer. I did consider Ren an ally. An annoying ally, more trouble than perhaps she was worth, but an ally nonetheless. She would care for Dani when I could not.

Soon enough, I'd be relying on her in ways even she did not suspect.

Provided she did not leave to live with the Sisters, as Karla had mentioned.

"Yes," I said. Because Ren looked unsure, and because I needed her to stay in Human World, I added: "Friends."

Ren beamed. She picked her food back up, then gestured for me to follow her. I did so. We walked down the hallway to Dani's room, where Ren sat at Dani's side. She once more cradled the ukulele on her lap. I watched from the doorway as Ren used her thumbnail to pluck a short, hesitant melody, string by string, note by note. Then she opened her mouth and sang along, a word for each note she played.

I didn't need to read her mind to know what song she sang. I recognized it at once from Dani's dreams. It was the song Ren and Dani had shared all their lives, across worlds, across times. The song that followed their friendship as persistently as a shadow cast by a high sun.

"Time After Time." That was the name. I remembered now.

As I watched Ren play, the tight feeling in my chest slackened. Not all the way, but a little. Time after time, Ren and Dani had found each other. Time after time, they had protected each other. Time after time, they would hold one another up, and be the support the other needed.

Ren would stay. Watching her croon a song at Dani's sleeping form, I knew she would stay. Ren would never, ever leave Dani. Not when Dani needed her.

And need her Dani would, soon.

The tightness returned to my chest at that thought.

Dani would need Ren when she woke up, because I would not be there.

When Ren finished playing, she got up. I expected her to retire to bed, but instead she crossed the room toward me. She reached down, and then her fingers twined with mine. I tried to jerk away, eyes widening, but she held tight. I wasn't used to affectionate physical contact from others. Not unless it came from someone like Dani, whom I pursued. I refused to look Ren in the eye, uncomfortable and embarrassed, shifting uneasily from foot to foot. Ren didn't seem to care.

"Friends," she said. Her cool fingers squeezed my own; her blue eyes sparkled with affection for me, though I knew not why. "We take care. Each other. You and me, and Dani."

The tightness abated once again.

In the end, Mukuro didn't give me two weeks. She only gave me one, but I expected her to arrive early. That's why I asked for two weeks in the first place. I only needed one, if that, and knew she would cut my time with Dani short.

I was in the forest when I felt the portal open. It reeked of Demon World, and of the energy of a powerful demon who had torn a rift in space to connect my home world to this new one.

I recognized that demon's energy. I had travelled through his portals many times before—and all while under the employ of Mukuro.

That's when I felt the presence of her unmistakable power, even from this distance. She stepped into Human World like a pillar of light, aura bright and devastating in my mind's eyes. A miasma of power surrounded her. I hadn't expected her to come here herself, but rather send an emissary to collect me when she grew impatient of my absence.

But now…she was near the temple, I sensed.

Near the temple…and Dani, by extension.

I had been training in the wilderness, but as soon as I felt her energy I turned and ran for the temple. Power surged into my limbs, core pumping energy at a fervid pace, allowing me to run with preternatural speed and endurance. Though I was many kilometers away, I cleared the distance in short order.

I was too late, though. There was no sign of Mukuro in the temple courtyard, where a swirling violet portal hovered at the top of the temple stairs. Her energy came from within the temple itself.

Genkai stood on the porch. When I neared, she jerked her head toward the doors.

"Inside," she said, tone curt. "Seemed calm enough, but you'll want to intervene."

Genkai, for all her formidable strength, was no match for Mukuro. I did not blame her for not keeping Mukuro away from Dani. Mukuro could kill Genkai in an instant. I gave the old psychic a nod and darted indoors, sprinting down the hall as fast as I could. Before I reached Dani's room, I heard Ren shouting, voice tight with confusion and fear. Her aquamarine energy pulse rapid, like the heart of a frightened bird. The door to Dani's room lay open, and when I ran inside—

Mukuro stood over Dani's bed, the corner Dani's blanket clenched in her fist. Dani's body, clad in a plain blue robe, was uncovered, exposed, vulnerable without the swaddling blanket. Mukuro had pulled it off of her, though for what purpose I couldn't say. The air in this room felt heavy and thick, crackling with Mukuro's powerful aura. I could barely sense Dani's energy beneath the shroud.

Ren stood near the wall, hand cupping her reddened cheek. She had tried to keep Mukuro away from Dani, it seemed, and had been pushed back. When Ren saw me she babbled something in English, then seemed to remember herself.

"Bad lady!" she said, pointing at Mukuro. "Hiei, bad lady!"

Mukuro's head turned my way. Her lips curled into a smile.

"This is her?" she asked. "The girl who wants to take you away from my court?"

I ignored Ren and nodded. "Yes."

Mukuro looked at Dani. I couldn't read the demon's expression. Mukuro, with her mismatched eyes and scarred face, was as difficult to read as always, despite how close we had once been.

I felt a tug on my sleeve. Ren had come close, standing by my side, eyes worried.

"She won't hurt her," I said.

Ren let out a low breath of relief. Mukuro's good eye darted my way. A smile tugged the corner of her mouth. Mukuro knew I was warning her to remain peaceful as much as I was placating Ren.

"Dani danger?" Ren muttered in my ear.

I didn't disrespect her by lying. This close to Mukuro, Dani was in danger. But with me there, Mukuro couldn't simply kill Dani. She would lose me if she did that, and she knew it.

"Dani danger?" Ren repeated.

I shot her a sharp look. "I'll protect her no matter what," I said.

Ren stared at me a moment, then relaxed. She walked to the wall and slid down it, watching Mukuro through shrewd eyes. Guard dog protecting its master. Hachiko, indeed.

I turned from Ren. Mukuro looked up and down Dani's body, examining it inch by inch. Eventually her eyes settled on Dani's foot—the grey, twisted limb that caused Dani pain, but made her who she was. When Mukuro's lone unmarred brow rose, my fists clenched at my sides.

"Dani is strong." The words came out of my mouth of their own volition. I regretted speaking, regretted giving Mukuro any more information than she required, but I found I could not stop. "Her strength is unconventional, but I assure you, Dani is the strongest creature I know."

Mukuro frowned. "Why are you telling me this?"

I said nothing. For once my traitorous words did not leap to my defense.

"Why do you defend her strength to me?" she said. Her eyes traveled to Dani's foot once more. "Because of that?"

I did not speak, but my shoulders tensed. Mukuro saw this. She scowled. Her aura thickened, heavy in my throat.

"Hiei," she said. She gestured at the mechanical side of her body, an amalgamation of metal, gears, and scar tissue. "Do you really think a demon with my body would look with disdain upon a limb like hers?"

I stopped breathing.

"I know better than anyone not to underestimate a body others might view as broken," she said. Mukuro's eyes, even her artificial one, gleamed with what could only be sadness. "Do you really think so little of me, that I would judge her for her body before seeing of what she might be capable?"

I looked away, at Dani, in a combination of shame and anger. Anger that Mukuro would come here at all, and ashamed I'd think she'd judge Dani for her infirmity. She accepted me into her court despite my past, after all. Mukuro cared little for convention.

I did not hate Mukuro. I resented her, but I did not hate her. And I had just disrespected her, and what she'd been through, by implying she might judge Dani's body with harshness. I should have known better than that. Mukuro had mistreated me, had taken advantage, but I should have known better than this at least.

"What I will judge is what I can feel," she said, sadness evaporating in the wake of imperiousness. "Her energy is low. A C-class, at best."

I bristled. Yes, Dani's energy reserves were low—but she had been a full demon for only a week, and had been sleeping that entire time. Dani had potential unrealized. Mukuro did not know that, however. Her lips quirked as though she'd spotted something humorous.

"Funny," she said. "I thought she'd be taller."

"Her height matters little," I snapped. "And her energy is low, but you're a fool if you can't see her potential. And besides—I do not value her for her fighting strength."

Her lips pursed. "Then what do you value her for?"

"You wouldn't understand," I said.

"Try me."

Her eyes were expectant, jaw set firm, arms crossed over her chest, feet in a wide, strong stance on the floor. Mukuro was a formidable demon. The paragon of demonic strength and leadership. Strength filled every line of her body. It made her who she was. It ruled her as surely as it ruled most of the demons I called my kin. Mukuro's demonic nature defined her to her core, down to the way she carried herself and conducted herself through the world.

Dani, meanwhile, lay peacefully on her back. She breathed long and slow. I heard the soft cotton rasp of her breath from where I stood. Rich brown hair fanned around her head, silky and long in all the places that hadn't been shaved short. Her scars stood out on her skin like spilled paint. Though Dani had been born with her leg in its twisted state, what defined her was not her body or her specie. She chose what defined her. She chose to view her leg the way she did. She chose music. She chose her friends, and her priorities, and her strengths.

Dani…was choice. Not duty, or specie, or obligation. Just choice. And she wanted me to choose who I was, too. To reject my past, if I so chose, and all the things I thought I could not escape.

Mukuro wanted me slave to my own nature.

Dani offered…evolution.

My eyes lingered on her face a moment more, on the small, clever hands lying still at her sides. She lay unnaturally tranquil. When awake, Dani's body moved to unseen rhythms, mimicking the throes of the music in her head. Her fingers tapped a perpetual cadence on her thigh, drumming in time with melodies only she could hear. When she played music, her body twitched and swayed, as though longing to leap and twirl. She would have been a dancer, in another life. In this life, she was chained to immobility. But that had never stopped her from achieving her goals. I'd seen her memories. She bucked the traditional view of what was right, what was admirable, and forged her own path. She accepted herself in spite of those who told her she was not worth that effort. Her human species rejected her, so she focused on herself. As Dani the individual, not as one human amongst many.

And for that, Dani was brave. Far braver than I. I can run headlong into battle, but I can't hold another creature's hand without flinching. I can't look a creature I've disappointed in the eye. I never learned to socialize, or to interact with others. I wasn't raised to do so, but deeper than that—it's because I do not want to. Not if I might be rejected the way I was rejected by the Koorime, or by the bandits who raised me.

Dani faced rejection every day of her life. But she never, ever let it stop her from trying.

I had much to learn from her.

I had no intention of remaining uneducated.

"Hiei."

Mukuro's voiced drew my focus. I looked at her. She hadn't moved.

I closed my eyes.

"My values have shifted," I heard myself say. "I won't know exactly how until I leave my old life behind."

"And your new life…is with this girl?" Mukuro said.

"Yes," I said. The word came out confident and strong. I met her eyes and did not flinch. "Yes, it is."

Mukuro regarded me impassively for a moment.

"Does this mean you've elected to take my deal?" she asked.

Knowing what the deal entailed made it hard to nod, but nod I did.

"Good," she said. She stepped forward, standing alongside me. "Then it's settled. I trust you agree there is no need for official formalization."

I scowled, but I said nothing. Official formalization. It was customary for demons of high rank—or at least those involved in whatever ruling systems controlled Demon World—to publically declare the terms of deals before a party of other demons, so said deals could not be perverted or cheated after they were made. Mukuro disdained formal court proceedings so it did not surprise me she avoided the pettier parts of protocol—but she was the lord of Alaric. I had expected her to adhere to this procedure, at least. Her refusal opened the door for a host of potential problems, chief among them treachery on her part. Though honorable, Mukuro was unscrupulous. Would she honor our deal, if given the chance to manipulate its terms after the fact?

Mukuro was staring at me sidelong, waiting for me to react. I found, however, that I could not say anything. I was no fox. I was a warrior, not some master manipulator. She might withdraw the offer of the deal entirely if I refused to capitulate to her whim.

I could not risk that. Not if it meant potentially losing Dani.

Mukuro smirked at my silence. "Time to go," she said.

She walked out the door.

I did not follow immediately. I went to Dani's side, instead, and smoothed my hand across her forehead. My fingertips traced the scars on her scalp, memorizing the curled tissue and bristling hair. It would likely never grow back over those scars. I cupped her cheek in my palm, memorizing the tiny lines around her eyes, the subtle bump on the bridge of her nose, the curve of her small lips. I thumbed the brush of her lashes and caressed the lids of her eyes. I wished I could see their color, or her smile, but the chance for that had passed. Instead I grasped her twisted ankle in my hand. I touched each whorl and buckle of her stunted foot, thanking it for making Dani who she was. I let go so I could trace the thick red scar on her chest, touch the place where her human heart once beat. I thanked that for making her who she was, as well. Then I drew the blanket back over her. I carefully arranged her precious hands at her sides. I curled her clever fingers around mine and squeezed, lifting them briefly to my lips. Then I bent and pressed my face against her hair. I breathed in her scent until I had memorized even its most subtle nuance. I touched my energy to hers, letting its amber glow fill my senses until Dani clouded my mind entirely.

Then I stood.

I turned from her.

I walked out the door.

I did not allow myself to look back.

Ren tried to catch me on the way out. I let her grab my elbow long enough for me to look her in the eye and say, "Ren. Protect Dani. Promise me."

She seemed taken aback, but she nodded. "Yes, Hiei," she said. "Protect Dani. Promise."

I shook her off and continued down the hallway. Genkai was still there, on the porch, but she had been joined by Yukina. Mukuro stood in the middle of the courtyard. Behind her, purple and black and crackling with energy, the portal to Demon World hovered in the air. Yukina looked at me with worried eyes, hand clenched tight in the fabric of her kimono. I hated seeing her like that, and looked pointedly away, at Genkai. Genkai looked utterly unimpressed with me. I ignored her, too.

"Time to go, Hiei," Mukuro said, repeating her earlier command. "Come."

I turned toward her, and began to walk off the porch.

"Wait!"

Yukina had walked forward, hand clasped to her chest, eyes wide with worry. She took a step toward me, paces small due to her restrictive kimono—but she wasn't looking at me. She was looking at Mukuro.

"Tell me," Yukina demanded. "Lord Mukuro, why have you come to Human World?"

Mukuro tilted her head back, toward the clear blue sky. Her natural eye fell shut as she breathed deeply through her nose.

"Would you believe I've always wanted to see it?" she said. "The air is just as clean as the rumors say." Her lips curved. "I understand why Hiei spends time here. It's peaceful. The trees are quite lovely, too. Perhaps I'll come here next time I take a vacation. See the sights."

I couldn't tell if she was serious or not. She looked sincere enough, but Mukuro held no regard for humans. She was a typical demon in that respect. Why she would want to spend time in Human World was beyond me.

"Despite the lovely trees, it's time I return home," Mukuro continued. She bowed toward Genkai. "Thank you for allowing me to visit, however briefly. It was nice to meet the famed demon slayer Genkai at long last."

Genkai snorted, crossing her arms over her chest, but she said nothing. Yukina took another step in my direction. Her eyes fastened on my face.

"And you are going with her, Hiei-san?" she said, voice no louder than a murmur. "You're returning with Mukuro to Demon World?"

I said nothing. My silence was all the confirmation Yukina needed.

"But Hiei-san…what about Dani?" she asked. Sorrow colored her expression like silt turns water grey. "Why leave when she is here?"

"It is no concern of yours," I said. I kept my tone low, neutral, and cold, even though the look in Yukina's eyes brought me pain. I did not want to offend her, but I needed her to stand down. "I do what I must."

"He's right," said Mukuro. She smirked, doubtless amused by the formal way my sister addressed me—not the way a sister would normally address her brother. "This is our business, not yours." She moved toward the portal. "Come, Hiei. It's time to go."

I made to follow. Yukina darted toward me, faster than I thought she could move, and wrapped her arms around my bicep. Her hands burned cold through my cloak.

"But where are you going?" she demanded. "How long will you be gone? Are you coming back?"

I had no answers to give. The deal tied my tongue. I stared into her face, unblinking—and then her eyes swam with sudden tears.

"Hiei-san," she whispered. "We're friends, aren't we? Please tell me why you're leaving Dani." Her grip on my arm tightened; blue-green hair rustled when the wind rushed by. Emotion stained her pale cheeks pink. "You love her, don't you?"

My sister hadn't heard my final promises to Dani. She did not know my actions were to ensure my future with her. I was powerless to tell her these things, however. I hated this feeling, this feeling of helplessness, so foreign to me, as I watched tears fill my sister's earnest eyes. I hated that my actions caused her pain. I hated—

"He doesn't want to leave."

Yukina blinked, tears dissipating as she wheeled to face Genkai. The psychic was staring at me, hands clasped behind her back.

"It's plain as the nose on his face," she said. Her gaze shifted to Mukuro. "She's forcing this, somehow."

Mukuro inclined her head. "I assure you, Hiei comes with me of his own volition."

"I doubt that very much," Genkai intoned. "If I had to guess, you've made him an offer. An offer he couldn't refuse, as they say." When Mukuro's features shifted into a carefully neutral mask, Genkai smirked. "Ah. Hit the nail on the head, did I?"

The old women was overstepping. I sensed Mukuro's energy coiling tight and acidic inside her skin. But Genkai was not to be deterred, though doubtless she could sense Mukuro's energy, too.

"Let's see…she's threatening Dani," Genkai said, directing her words at me. Her rheumy eyes bored into mine. "Is that it? You go work for her, she'll leave Dani alone?"

I said nothing. Genkai took that as confirmation. Her features darkened as she turned to address Mukuro, expression a storm oncoming.

"Hate to break it to you, but Dani has quite a few friends in high places," Genkai growled. "You'd piss off the lord of Tourin himself if you hurt her, and Yusuke is no slouch. Think carefully before you threaten her. She's an annoying little shit, but powerful people are in her corner."

"I have no intention of hurting her," came Mukuro's silken reply.

"Then what?" Genkai demanded. "What else could make Hiei leave Dani when she's—"

"Freedom."

Yukina's mild voice cut through the psychic's tirade like a sword through flesh. Her lips parted, eyes alight with dawning understanding. She looked toward me after a moment. In her expression I saw the pieces fall together, understanding dawning slow and steady.

"You…this is for your freedom, isn't it?" she asked. "You go with Mukuro to earn your right to freedom."

Genkai frowned. "Seems like staying here would free him, not going with her."

Genkai, for all her wisdom, was no demon. She did not understand demonic customs. My sister, however, did. I closed my eyes; breath came easy with relief. Yukina had guessed. I had not broken Mukuro's deal by telling her anything.

"Demons adhere to particular rules, when it comes to forging and breaking alliances," Yukina said to Genkai. "Mukuro-san has bested Hiei-san in battle. To be free, and to be relieved of his duty as her second in command, he must best her in battle to prove he is subordinate to no one." Her eyes held icy calculation, as cold as our wintery homeland. "But Hiei-san is a valuable ally. Mukuro-san, you see his value, I am sure, and are unwilling to let him go." Suddenly her eyes were innocent, without any guile I could see. "I apologize if I overstep, but are you, perhaps, denying Hiei a right to fight for his freedom until he fulfills some part of a deal with you?"

Mukuro heaved a longsuffering sigh, neutral mask cracking at last. "Yes," she admitted. "Hiei and I have struck a deal, in exchange for his freedom. I will agree to fight him only once certain conditions have been met."

Yukina looked at me, expression grave. "And as part of that deal, you have to go away," she said. "For how long, may I ask?"

"As he said: that's no concern of yours," Mukuro interjected.

Yukina's eyes were hard, concealing frigid depths like a glacier in arctic water. "Respectfully, Lord Mukuro, I completely disagree." My sister, despite her delicate appearance, did not bend or sway beneath the gaze of the demon lord; pride swelled inside me when I saw her resolute expression, her unintimidated stance, the steady flicker of her icy aura. "Has your deal with Hiei been formalized yet?"

Mukuro hesitated. Then she said: "No. No, it has not."

Yukina considered this. "Do you know what I am? What specie of demon, specifically?"

"You are of the Koorime," Mukuro said. She knew because she had seen my memories of that glacial people, and memories of my sister besides.

"You are correct," said Yukina. "When two of my people strike a deal, a third demon bears witness to its terms, so the terms of the deal cannot be changed after the deal is struck." Yukina's eyes hardened further still. "Do you plan on cementing your deal with Hiei-san with a witness, Lord Mukuro?"

Mukuro's lips pursed. The answer was no, of course, though Yukina had no way of knowing that…or was my sister even more intuitive than I had assumed?

"I imagine a demon of honor, such as yourself, planned on declaring your deal with Hiei-san before witnesses," Yukina said. Her expression was innocent, aside from the hard eyes, but I saw in her a cutting edge of cunning—she was playing Mukuro, and brazenly. Bravely. "Am I wrong, my lord?"

Mukuro did not move. She stared at my sister impassively. Tension coiled behind her good eye, though. I knew Mukuro too well. I knew Mukuro knew she was being played—and that she knew she was trapped. Admit she hadn't planned on having someone witness our deal, and she admitted to duplicitous dishonor. Yukina had tricked her into revealing her plans quite neatly.

"You are not wrong," Mukuro eventually said. Though she kept her voice smooth, I heard the rough edge beneath, evidence of agitation. "I will declare my pact with Hiei before my court."

My energy spiked, elation straightening my posture. This was good news…and I had my sister to thank for it. Gratitude surged through me when I looked at her. Yukina was stronger than I have ever given credit.

But my sister wasn't done. "With all due deference, Lord Mukuro, a court beholden to your goodwill is easily swayed," she said. "Hiei is entitled to have your deal declared before at least one party sympathetic to him, and him alone." She dipped a low bow from the waist, exposing the back of her neck to the demon lord in a gesture of true submission. "Please. If you allow it, I would happily serve as Hiei's witness in this."

I could not allow my sister to become entangled in my struggle with Mukuro. "Yukina," I said, her name sharp on my tongue, but she straightened and silenced me with a single hard look.

"Hiei," she said. Her voice booked no room for argument. "Let me do this. Please." Then her tone softened, and her eyes lost their polar chill. "You are my friend, Hiei-san, and so is Dani. I care for you both very much. I want to help in whatever way I can."

"But tying yourself to the politics of Demon World—"

"—is a small price to pay for your happiness," she said.

I did not know what to say. I had never told Yukina I was her brother, and yet she cared for my happiness. As a friend. Did I deserve her friendship, or her care? I had made sure to keep my distance, to watch over her from afar…and yet I had failed. She considered me a friend close enough to protect and care for. Could I allow her to do this for me? If Mukuro felt particularly vindictive, she could target Yukina, try to destroy the witness who kept our deal intact. Mukuro surely would know that hurting Yukina would make our alliance null and void, however. She knew how much I valued my sister's wellbeing. But was that enough to keep Yukina safe?

Yukina saw the war in my eyes, I think. She stepped toward me and once more placed a hand on my arm. Her smile was serene, centered, and full of unwarranted affection.

"Please let me do this," she murmured. Her smiled widened, voice playful and familiar, eyes crinkled into crimson crescents. "I will offer to witness your deal no matter what you say, but I really would prefer your blessing!"

Despite my best intentions, in that moment, to my sister I simply could not say no. I placed my hand over hers and squeezed, my thanks silent but sincere. In return, Yukina beamed.

"If Lord Mukuro allows," I said.

Together, my sister and I turned to Mukuro. She watched us through hooded eyes—eyes that knew she was beaten. Though Yukina was just one demon, if Mukuro refused to let her bear witness to our deal, Yukina could spread word that Mukuro was dishonorable. It would not be enough to depose Mukuro, or even shake her control of her court in Demon World, but it would certainly tarnish the reputation she had built for herself as Lord of Alaric.

"Fine," Mukuro said. Her good eye closed. "You may act as Hiei's witness."

"Don't forget about me." At that Genkai stepped forward, smirking. "I might be old, but I can witness just fine."

Mukuro's eyebrow rose. "You?"

"Two witnesses are better than one," Genkai said. "Yukina isn't well known in Demon World. I, however, am." Her sneer twisted like winter branches. "Break your deal with me as witness, and my people will find out."

"You have a regular army at your side, Hiei," Mukuro said. She sighed, shoulders slumping. "Fine, then. Both of you may witness, and I suppose we'd better make this quick. Doubtless you, Genkai, don't relish the prospect of a trip to Demon World."

"That's right," Genkai said. She stood by my side, Yukina on my right and Genkai on my left. "Name the terms of your deal. And be sure I'll remember every one of them."

A deal between demons is not enacted with fanfare, or fuss. Mukuro merely stepped forward, squared her feet, and stood tall. She stared me down with eyes both natural and synthetic, and spoke the terms of our deal plainly for all to hear.

"I, Mukuro, Lord of Alaric, enter into a deal with Hiei, my Right Hand, so chosen through battle and war," she said. "For two years he is to work unquestioningly as my second in command, in the kingdom of Alaric. He is to follow my orders and do my bidding. In exchange, I will allow him to fight me, at my full strength, for the right to his freedom from my influence, alliance, and employ. I will retract both his title and service should he best me in combat once the time of the deal is served."

I closed my eyes. Mukuro kept speaking.

"Should Hiei tell Dani of this deal, or see her, or communicate with her in any way, our deal is null." At that Yukina let out a little gasp. "Should any of his allies or friends convey the terms of the deal to Dani, the deal is null. Should he enter Human World for any reason without my permission, our deal is null. And should he tell anyone aside from selected witnesses of the terms of our deal, the deal is null and void."

Those were the additional conditions Mukuro had given me when I paid her my recent visit. Those were the conditions that made leaving so difficult, and the consequences of my choice so severe. The promise Dani and I made in her dreams, the promise to find each other again, was the only thing that made taking this deal possible.

I just hoped she remembered those promises when she at long last woke.

My future with her depended on it.

"You can't be serious," Genkai snapped. "Hiei intends to court Dani. To keep them apart for two years—"

"—is what I require, in exchange for his freedom," Mukuro said. Genkai looked furious, but the demon lord merely shrugged. "Hiei has agreed to these terms. In exchange, I have agreed to not interfere with Dani's life. I have agreed to keep all of my subordinates from interfering in Dani's life. No harm will come to her." Her head tilted to one side as she smiled. "These are my terms. Hiei can reject them if he wishes, but then he will forfeit his right to fight me. It is his choice."

"Some choice," Genkai snapped. "It's hardly a choice at all."

"It's so cruel," Yukina said. "To keep them apart for so long—it's cruel!"

"Cruel, but necessary," said Mukuro.

Genkai scowled. "In what way?"

"I need not explain myself to you," Mukuro said. She spread her hands. "The arrangement has been witnessed. Now, Hiei, if you'll join me…?"

She gestured to the portal, but I stood my ground.

"I have a condition of my own to add," I said.

Mukuro did not look pleased. "Oh?" she asked. "And what might that be?"

"You will not order me to harm humans," I said. "And you will not order me to act against my friends, with whom I will be allowed to communicate when and if I so choose—so long, of course, as I do not use them to contact Dani in any way, or enter Human World without your permission."

Mukuro considered this a moment. Yukina and Genkai both stared at me, expressions telegraphing surprise.

"I suppose that's acceptable," Mukuro eventually said. She looked at Yukina and Genkai in turn. "And with that, the deal is struck. Have our witnesses anything to say?"

Her question was half challenge, half rhetorical question. None would dare question a demon as powerful as she, usually. Too bad Genkai was anything but usual.

"Only that this is idiocy at its finest," Genkai said. She shook her head, all but growling her disapproval. "Demons. I should know by now not to expect great things, but this…"

Yukina didn't speak. She merely gave Mukuro a small shake of her head, disappointment evident, before turning my way.

"I will watch over Dani while you are gone," she said. Her hand closed around my arm again. "I won't tell her anything. But I will make sure she's happy, and that her memory of you does not fade."

I covered my hand with hers again. Her smile lingered a moment longer, and then she let me go.

"Lord Mukuro," she said, bowing. "I will remember the terms as set today. Safe travels on your journey home."

Mukuro inclined her head respectfully, then grinned.

"You know," Mukuro said. "You're quite the wordsmith. You'd make a good ally in court. If you ever decide to come back to Demon World, there is a place for you in mine."

Yukina's smile was as tight as it was cold. "Thank you," she said, "but I do not intend to enter any demonic courts. I'm unsuited for such a life."

"Pity," Mukuro said. "You could prove quite useful." She gave Genkai a nod. "A pleasure to meet you, as well."

Genkai crossed her arms and scowled. Mukuro laughed.

"I will make my leave, then," she said. She jerked her head toward the portal. "Hiei. It's time."

She walked through the portal. It enveloped her, sucking in both her body and her energy. I felt the great pressure of her energy vanish, like a heavy weight had been lifted from my back, and suddenly breathing came more easily. Yukina and Genkai both sighed. They had felt that immense weight, too, and were affected by it.

Yukina was the first to find the will to move.

"Hiei—delay one moment, would you?" she said. "I need to give you something."

She hiked up the hem of her kimono and darted indoors. Genkai took advance of her absence. She turned my way and snarled, "You know I think this is utterly stupid, right?"

I resisted the urge to lash at her. "You've made that abundantly clear," I said instead. My fists clenched at my side, nails biting into my palms. "But your opinion changes nothing."

"Have you even thought this through?" Genkai demanded. "I mean, have you really thought it through?" She lifted her arms, hands wide with question. "What if Dani wakes up before you come back? What if she gets tired of waiting and finds someone else?"

My hands clenched tighter. "I'll win her back," I growled.

"How?" Genkai said. "What if she wants nothing to do with you? Not knowing why you're gone, she has no reason to wait for you!"

The thought that she might grow tired of waiting had occurred to me—but no matter how I wracked my mind, I had no answer for the psychic. I stared at her in silence until she spoke again.

"When she wakes, she'll be confused," she said. "She'll have new instincts she won't be able to understand. Demonic instincts. And you won't be there, to help her adjust."

I closed my eyes.

"She will endure," I said. "She's strong."

"But is she strong enough?" Genkai asked. Her voice cracked with tension. "What if—?"

"Genkai!"

I snapped her name, unable to entertain the possibilities she voiced. Genkai fell silent, staring at me with anger and frustration. I took a deep breath. I reminded myself of Dani's willful mind, her unbreakable spirit, and her unending self-acceptance—and then, with conviction and faith, I spoke.

"Dani accepts herself," I said. My voice came softer now, because I was speaking of her. "She will accept her new nature, in time. And she won't just survive—she'll thrive. Because she won't settle for anything less."

Genkai considered this in silence.

"She will struggle, but she will endure," I said. It was difficult to say, but still, I said it: "With or without me, Dani will endure."

Dani did not need me to live her life. I would not want it any other way. I wanted her to be independent. I wanted her to be fulfilled on her own. If I was killed, I wanted her to live her life—and be happy, even if that happiness happened in my absence.

If she was happy without me, so be it.

So long as Dani was happy, I would be at peace.

"I have much to learn, Genkai," I said. "You were right, the other night. I have changed. And I need to discover exactly how."

"And that means you have to leave?" she asked.

"I need freedom to grow," I said. "If I am to be worthy of Dani, I need my freedom."

Genkai said nothing. I thought, perhaps, she might take my word and move on—but her eyes lit up with incensed fire.

"Yes, you need your freedom," she said. "That much I concede. But this—is this really the only solution? What if she doesn't understand, Hiei? What if she resents you for leaving, and—"

"Genkai!" I said.

She fell quiet.

"Enough," I said. "Enough future talk." I held my head up high. "Dani is my future. And toward that future I will look, no matter what may come."

Genkai said nothing. Then the war behind her eyes went slack. She hung her head, and chuckled.

"Hard-headed as always," she said. She turned on her heel and, hands behind her back, marched for the temple door. "Don't get killed, moron. You'll just make Dani cry."

I watched her go in silence. Just as she neared the sliding paper door, Yukina appeared from behind it. They nodded at each other as they passed, and then Yukina trotted up to me. She breathed with a touch of effort. She'd been running while she was gone.

"Sorry—it took me a moment to find it," she said. She grabbed my wrist and pulled my hand until it lay between us. "Here."

Her fingers brushed mine, coaxing them open. Then she pressed something small and thin against my palm, and closed my fingers gently around it.

"I will make sure her memory of you doesn't fade," Yukina murmured. "Make sure you do the same for yourself, Hiei-san. Good luck."

She let me go. With one final smile, my sister turned and went back into the temple.

I looked at my closed fist. Then I opened it. On it lay a strip of glossy paper, printed with bright ink. It showed three small pictures of Dani and myself, side by side. She was kissing my cheek in the first photo. I looked absolutely flabbergasted. In the second photo she was laughing, eyes alight with mirth, while I looked on with bemused annoyance.

I was kissing her in the third image. She clung to me, hands fisted in my cloak and hair. And then, in the fourth photo, we stared at one another, her hands on my chest. A delicate flush stained her cheeks. Her eyes showed hope, and fear, and question. My eyes were hooded with desire. I remembered well the feeling of her in my arms, her small solidity and warmth.

It occurred to me I was looking at a sketch of our relationship. First she surprised me. Then she challenged me. And then we came together, before parting once again.

This was from the…photo booth. Yes, the photo booth at the festival, before the Book and Seishou turned our world inside out.

Before Dani told me that she loved me, and went to sleep soon after.

Now I knew what that look in her eyes had meant. I had wondered what she was trying to say in that booth, in that stolen moment of quiet we had shared so many weeks before.

Now I knew.

And I could carry that knowledge with me.

I stared at her face, at the curve of her neck and the gleam of her smile, for a moment. Then I tucked the photos deep and safe inside my cloak, close to my core, where I would hold them until I saw her again. I closed my eyes, drank down the clean air of Human World, and stretched out my energy. I let it wash over the temple in a slow, quiet wave. It passed Genkai, and Yukina, until it found the warm amber glow of Dani—of my future, sleeping peacefully nearby.

I lingered there a moment. I basked in Dani's glow until I tasted it on my tongue.

Then, with one final brush of Dani's energy against mine, I walked through the portal—the portal that would, one day, lead me back to her.

And…that's "Future Talk."

Although the most harrowing mission of Dani's life is over, her story has not ended. To keep an eye on Dani, follow my story "Speak," where she will appear as a member of the supporting cast.

Thank you for accompanying Dani on her journey.

Thank you for reading, from the bottom of my heart.