[FFML] [fic][yyh] Shonen Chapter 21: Revolution (Part 1)

[Abdiel]

A piercing cry shattered the otherwise peaceful afternoon air, the
tranquil moment of perfect serenity shredded irreparably by a vile
dissonance composed of howls of anguish that rivaled any sort of
suffering found in human history. It tore at the very base of the soul
and threatened to extinguish hope in the clarion call of primal anguish.

The Wondrous Witch of Oz was so furious when she discovered that all her
minions died in the hands of the four wanderers that she shrieked
cacophonously, stamped her foot, tore her hair, and gnashed her teeth.
This was unacceptable. This was inconceivable. Something must be done.

She could not understand how all her plans to unleash heavenly
retribution upon the travelers had failed; but she was a powerful witch,
as well as a wondrous one, and she soon made up her mind on how to act.

There was, in her secret redwood armoire, a Golden Tiara, with a circle
of diamonds and rubies running around it. This Golden Tiara had a charm;
whoever owned it could call upon the Winged Seraphs, who would obey any
order they were given.

Twice already the Wondrous Witch had used the magical artifact's charm.
Once when she conquered the Land of the West; at the time the Golden
Tiara was still a Golden Cap, and the Seraphs were still Winged Monkeys.
The second time was when she fought against the Great Wizard of Oz
himself, driving the humbug out of Emerald City, his tail between his
legs; this time, the transmuted Golden Tiara and the newly-born Winged
Seraphs helped her do this. 

But every time she used the item to call upon her beloved, precious
angels, quite a few of them died, for which reason she did not like to
do so until all her other powers were exhausted. But now that her fierce
wolves, her wild crows, and her stinging bees were gone, she saw that
there was only one way left to get her revenge on Shuichi Minamino.

So the Wondrous Witch of Oz donned the tiara, stood upon her left foot
and said slowly, "Ep-pe, pep-pe, kak-ke." 

Next she stood upon her right foot and said, "Hil-lo, hol-lo, hel-lo."

After this she stood upon both feet and cried in a loud voice, "Ziz-zy,
zuz-zy, zik!"

She raised her hand above her head, and lightning crackled ominously
behind her, casting her in silhouette. Striking an insolent pose, the
Wondrous Witch thrust an accusing finger towards the open skies, as if
daring them to defy her will.

Now the charm began to work. The sky darkened, and a deep rumbling sound
was heard in the air. There was a rushing of many wings, a great
chattering and laughing, and the red, setting sun appeared out of the
dark sky to show the Wondrous Witch surrounded by a crowd of beautiful
young male angels who sported tapered chins, effeminate and clean-shaven
facial structures, intense eyes of assorted colors, eternally-coiffed
hairstyles that were immune to tangles and split ends, slender bodies
that never exceeded the smooth musculature of Olympic-level swimmers,
and varying numbers of immense and powerful wings on their backs.

A six-winged, Japanese-looking young boy that exuded such a unique and
powerful presence that he couldn't possibly be anyone else but the
leader of the flock of birdmen flew close to the Witch and asked simply,
"What do you command?"

The wind rose, howling mournfully as it ruffled the pink bow across the
Witch's chest and the round, chime-like earrings that dangled from her
ears. There was something about the way the Witch stood, her fists
clenched tightly at her sides, her face clouded with darkness as
lightning crackled from the corners of her eyes that made even the
fearless leader of the Seraphs pause.

"Go to the strangers who are traversing the yellow brick road and bring
them back to me," said the Witch. "Do everything in your power to subdue
them, especially the red-haired boy with green eyes." Almost as an
afterthought, the Witch added, "Oh, and don't harm a single hair on the
girl with long bangs. Got it, Hirou Eye?"

"Your commands shall be obeyed," said Hirou. Then, with a great deal of
chattering and noise, the Seraphs flew away to the place where Kurama
and his friends were.


________________________________________________________________________


Shonen
A Yuyu Hakusho fic
By Chester Castañeda
chester.castaneda at gmail.com
gabriel_gabdiel at yahoo.com
http://www.fanfiction.net/~abdiel 
http://abdiel.florestica.com/
http://chester-fanfics.livejournal.com/

This is continuation of the Wizard of Oz arc.

________________________________________________________________________

Chapter 21: Revolution (Part 1)
________________________________________________________________________



It was dark, and bright, and cold, and warm. That made no sense, but
that was exactly what Ayame was feeling right now: Indescribable.

The young girl stood, watching in abject horror as her comrades fell
victim to the Seraphs' machinations and thinking it would soon be her
turn. The leader of the winged abominations, Hirou Eye, flew up to her,
his long, slender arms stretched out, his bloody yet striking features
unreadable.

Strangely enough, Hirou almost gasped when he saw Ayame up-close, her
fragrant, chestnut-brown hair wafting through his nostrils with an
enticing aroma. For her part, the girl of dreams reddened from the neck
up as the angelic being coolly invaded her personal space.

"Stay back! Get away from me!" she cried desperately as she stridently
looked around for possible avenues of escape. Upon realizing her own
cowardice, a sense of shame washed over her panic, leaving her very much
nonplussed. Torn between her concern for her companions and her own
life, she froze into place.

Hirou saw his quarry pressed against his fellow Seraphs, clutching her
chest and gasping for breath. To Ayame's surprise, he stopped short in
front of her, motioning the others not to touch her. "Do not harm the
girl," he said to them, "for she is very important to me." His voice
sounded drowsy; bewitching, even. It poured into her body with the force
of a bolt of lightning, heating her blood and bringing every nerve
ending alive.

Her knees buckled in shock. Instinctively, her other hand flew up and
grabbed his shoulder for support as she sagged against him. What was
happening to her? Why was she losing control over her bodily functions?
She couldn't understand it; either that, or she was in denial and she
knew exactly what was going on. Nevertheless, she continued to feign
ignorance, even to herself.

"What is your name," he stated, not asked, wrapping his body around hers
as he slipped his arm around her waist. She managed to choke out a shaky
reply, in spite of herself.

"Ayame." He said her name tenderly; with an aching need in it. "Do not
worry, for you will not share the sad fate of your companions," he
reassured.

He looked down at her, his bloodied face filled with a flat, perplexing
emotion, and time seemed to stop as she stared up into his eyes. They
were such wide, mysterious eyes, as blue and sparkling as the ocean
itself. He was looking at her the same way he had that first day they
met--which was incidentally just now--and the same way he had been
looking at her every minute since; with a flat, impenetrable stare.

There was something in that look that quivered in the shadows behind his
usual steely veneer that made Ayame's heart flutter. She couldn't
decide what it was, but she knew what she thought it might be. The funny
thing was, she couldn't decide if the idea made her terrified, or
excited. Possibly both.

Hirou stood at the crest of the brick road with a lifeless yet slightly
perturbed look on his bloody face; it was as if he was trying to figure
something out. That made Ayame feel a little sad: Hirou was slightly
less adorable when he was worried. Or livid. Or melancholic. Perhaps he
was feeling a bit jaded? Whatever the case, the difference was
negligible, and the cute little wrinkle on his forehead almost made up
for it, but all in all she preferred his flat, happy face instead of his
flat, sad face... even though she couldn't tell which look was which
most of the time.
 
Wait. She did? Ah, whatever. He was cute, if a bit weird and impassive.
She was willing to admit at least _that_. What, was she supposed to be
blind now? Lack taste? Any girl would fall for a guy with those boyish
good looks and perplexing eyes, his crimson mask of blood aside. Ayame
pouted prettily.

For perhaps the first time in her life, Ayame did not have the slightest
idea what she was doing. Usually, she was the girl that everyone else
turned to for a plan, the one who always kept her cool when the rest of
her friends were losing theirs at the top of their lungs. She was not
used to feeling so disoriented. 

The previous paragraph was filled with outright lies. Ayame was actually
a girl in denial. Feeling disoriented was a staple of being Ayame, so
today was actually business as usual for her. And what a day it was;
most of it was a blur of colors and images that didn't seem to be in
quite the proper order to make any sense, as though she had viewed
everything through a kaleidoscope while falling down a hill. It was a
dizzy, light-headed feeling that she had begun to associate with the
presence of Hirou Eye.
 
"Are you okay," he said in monotone, and Ayame forced herself to nod and
push herself away from him. The cool night air suddenly felt frigid
against her body after Hirou's warmth, and she shivered slightly.

Hirou nodded to himself as he let her go and backed away, still gazing
straight into her eyes in the disturbingly perceptive way he had. "So,
uh, what exactly are we d-doing, mister...?" Ayame asked, trailing off
as she inched back slightly under his examination. 

The Seraphic Commander introduced himself as, "...Hirou. Hirou Eye." He
tilted his head to one side, as if he was seeing his hostage in a new
light. After the briefest yet most awkward of pauses, he continued,
"We're negotiating, of course."

"'Negotiating', you say?" she wanted to cry out in bewilderment, but she
held her tongue back; she instead lied, saying, "I-I understand, Hirou-
san." Not knowing what else to do, the girl gingerly wiped the blood off
of the angel boy's forehead with her spare handkerchief.

Summoning the last of her courage, Ayame was somehow able to inquire,
"Why are you doing these crazy things, Hirou-san? What has Minamino-kun,
or Kurama-kun, or whatever you want to call him, ever done to you? And
why did you have to involve _both_ Urameshi-kun and his big, ugly friend
in this fight? Couldn't you have at least spared us while exacting your
revenge on, er, Kuwabaka-kun? Can't you leave us three in peace? We have
nothing to do with that scary brute!" she pleaded, biting her lip in 
imploration. Hirou Eye, for his part, remained impassive.

"Hirou-san, please," Ayame breathed, looking up into those earnest,
smoldering eyes of his and feeling slightly dizzy. She knew deep in her
heart that Hirou Eye was a good person; she saw it in his enigmatic,
Prussian-blue eyes. "Please, spare us from your wrath and unleash it on
he who truly deserves it."

She trembled in fear as she turned away. Fear of the unknown, perhaps.
After steeling herself, she faced her brown-haired captor head on.

His flat gaze was frustrating to decipher, yet hypnotic to look at. She
felt herself being drawn into them, those magnetic eyes. Caught within
the boy's charismatic spell, she was stupefied enough to ask, "Is there
anything I can do to help you make up your mind?"

"There is," Hirou said in a svelte, deadpan voice as he again held her
possessively, his arms locking around her slender waist. "I will spare
all of you, even the one you call 'Kuwabaka', under one condition. I
want you to be mine."

"P-Pardon me?" she stammered, lowering her lashes while displaying a
shyness that was only half-feigned. 'It wasn't feigned at all!' she
thought to no one in particular. 'Stop putting words in my mind!' To
Hirou, she sputtered, "H-How can you say that so flippantly? I couldn't
possibly...!"

"Is that a yes or a no?" Hirou patently queried, which made Ayame
inwardly curse and groan at his unreserved frankness. "It took no more
than my first sight of you to know that I want you to belong to me. Now
that you're here, I'll never let go."
 
"What are you trying to say?" she softly inquired, her voice breaking
slightly as she glanced out over the distance, intentionally avoiding
his gaze. Hirou, for his part, turned to watch with her the endless
depths of swirling nimbus accentuated by a single pillar of green
luminescence. They stood side by side for several minutes, an arm
around her waist and a hand on her shoulder. 

Ayame closed her eyes and bowed her head in silence. After a while, she
looked over to see what Hirou was doing. She was a bit startled to
realize he was still staring at her. Tenderly, the leader of the Seraphs
twirled a lock of her hair around his finger.

Her heart thundering loudly beneath her heaving bosom, Ayame throatily
inquired, "Is that all you want to do with me?" She herself didn't know
what she was thinking or saying at that point.

Ayame shifted her foot in embarrassment as her unacknowledged Seraphic
captor looked at her intently with a flat, ardent gaze that could bore
holes upon her person until all that was left was her shivering, naked
soul. It was the unflinching, demanding, and compelling stare of Hirou
Eye.

Ayame's eyes began to travel all over Hirou's body, looking timidly at
his sparse wardrobe. Her eyes alighted upon the young, lean, yet firm
muscles of his physique; his biceps, his broad chest, even the slight
scars that decorated his torso suddenly became appealing to her as they
made him look ruggedly handsome instead of unkempt and torn. She blushed 
slightly as her eyes traveled further down Hirou's abdomen.

She was in a weird mood, but this was a weird setting altogether, so she
gave it no mind. She sighed breathlessly as Hirou continued his advance;
manly, determined Hirou. So strong. So masculine, yet feminine at the
same time. So utterly irresistible. 

Impulsively, he hooked Ayame's chin with one finger and lifted her head
up as he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. Ayame stiffened,
her entire body going rigid, and made a muffled squeaking sound. After a
long moment of hesitation, her eyes fluttered shut and she melted into
the kiss with a sigh, curling her arms around Hirou's neck and letting
herself hang off of him.

Smooth lips met with her soft ones as Ayame gently puckered hers almost 
playfully, teasingly. Soon, the kiss deepened. It was as if they were 
suffocating and the only way for them to breath again was through each
other's mouths. Before long, the rest of the world melted into trivial
inconsequence. 

The velvetiness of the kiss, though passionate in every respect, wasn't
at all what Ayame expected it to be; it seemed rather out of character
for Hirou to kiss so softly, she reckoned. Not that she was disappointed
or anything. She silently furthered her contemplations as she gently
slid her hands over Hirou's back and feathery gold wings.

Their lips parted, and Ayame craned her neck to briefly bring them back
into contact again, rising on her tiptoes to prolong the experience as
much as possible. The summer breeze stirred through the hills, filling
the air with a hint of flower blossoms and ruffling their hair like the
hands of an old friend. Ayame slowly lowered herself back down to the
ground, still holding herself close to him and reveling in his warmth
and his scent and the wonderfulness of his existence. She turned her
face and buried it into his shoulder, snuggling closer to him.

Hirou froze, one hand still braced on Ayame's waist. Slowly, he let her
go, looked behind him, then back at her, his tousled mop of raven hair
falling over his eyes and obscuring his expression. The girl of dreams
gaped at him in confusion, looking over his shoulder for a second to see
what might have caught his attention. All she saw was the same shaft of
viridian light over the horizon that they already espied from before.

Ayame shyly watched as the attractive young angel began to work his way
back to the foreboding fortress. Pausing, he looked back and extended
his hand to her with an unnerving smirk that seemed out of place with
his usually flat stare. He was still looking at her with those same eyes
that had been daring her to kiss him since the moment they met, but this
time she simply reached out confidently and accepted his hand as he
pulled her up alongside him. She had come to terms with Hirou, even if
they were both still a bit uncertain as to what those conditions
implied. What, exactly, _were_ they?

Ayame was amazed that she could suddenly feel Hirou's heart beating
against her chest. But even as she felt it, her legs were being gathered
up, so that she was now cradled in his arms and he was flying, quite
rapidly, in the direction of the eerie emerald castle in the distance.
She held on to his neck, though it wasn't necessary, because he held her 
securely and protectively. She was merely trying to hide her face in
utter embarrassment. She was his now, and she just couldn't wrap her
mind around the fact.

True to Hirou's word, the Seraphs let the others go, even the boorish
Scarecrow, 'Kuwabaka'. Indeed, Ayame had learned something new today.
Maybe she shouldn't have been so... provocative with a boy she knew
nothing about, but it had proved that his attraction to her was possibly
as powerful as hers was to him. He hadn't even answered her question. He
was _showing_ her instead. 

With a shrug, Ayame leaned against Hirou's arm as they flew off into the
night. They were comfortable, she decided. That was what they were.
Maybe for right now, that was all they needed to be. Everything else
would work itself out later.


***


"Yo, Urameshi. Tin Man," Kuwabara groggily called out to his friend,
struggling futilely at his rope-and-chain bonds as not one, not two, but
three Seraphs continued to lug him around like a net full of flapping,
stinking fish; they were certainly acting like it. "You still alive,
buddy boy?"

Yusuke groaned. "Barely," he managed to croak inside his heavily-dented
armor while making a good impersonation of a car-wreck, twisted metal
and all. He gave Hirou Eye a pointed glare before turning back to
Kuwabara and asking, "What's up?"

"'What's up' is right. Check out Kurama's girlfriend over there," the
Scarecrow said, motioning the best he could towards the blushing,
giggling, and squealing girl of dreams as the aforementioned Hirou
cradled her into his arms as gently as possible. "Isn't she enjoying
this little flight of ours a bit _too_ much?"

"She's probably daydreaming, caught in her own little world," Yusuke
said in an impressive deadpan that would have made both Yoshitaka
Tetsuma and Hirou Eye proud.

"I guess. One might say she's sleeping while sleeping, dreaming while
dreaming," Kuwabara nonchalantly agreed, slightly frustrated that by his 
inability to scratch the itch on his nose. "She has made the dream her
own."

Yusuke blinked at Kuwabara in both awe and astonishment. "That sounds
halfway profound. Have you been trying out yoga by any chance?"

"Shut up. And don't act so surprised," growled the fiery-haired teen.
"You can't stereotype me into the 'big, dumb, goofy sidekick' category
anymore. I'm a changed man. I haven't been studying my ass off for
shits and giggles; who in their right mind would do such a thing? In
any case, my being accepted into Meiou High changes everything!"

"Sheesh, not _that_ again." Yusuke ponderously wiped the exasperation
off of his face, the joints of his banged-up armor creaking as he did
so. "That's getting old and tired. Besides that, why didn't you tell me
about the whole Meiou High thing while we were still awake and beating
the crap out of each other? Or did you just make the whole thing up?"

"Oh, please. It's not like I'd lie about something as nerdy as that."
Kuwabara chided indignantly. "The topic simply didn't come up, that's
all. Besides, my witty one-liners and heroic battle cries were far more
appropriate to the occasion, don't you think?"

"Uh, right. Whatever you say," Yusuke condescendingly replied as he
surveyed his three subjugators. He exhaled noisily at what he saw.
First, there was the black-haired, narrow-eyed Chinese boy clad with
falcon wings and an eternally-enraged expression; second, a platinum
blond, wide-eyed Caucasian boy with stereotypical dove wings and an
outwardly kind demeanor; third, an enigmatic, spiky-haired Seraph of
seemingly Italian descent with nightingale wings and a poker face that
could rival Hirou Eye's.

The teenager shrugged off the obvious physical differences: to him, the
winged 'monkeys' _all_ looked alike. 'Damn. They're both just a bunch of
kids. I _should_ be able to take them down easily. But I better watch
it, 'coz their leader is just a kid too, and he just kicked my ass,' the
half-demon assessed.

Getting back to the conversation at hand, Yusuke arbitrarily remarked,
"For my money, I think you've merely become the 'big, dumb, goofy, _and_
snarky sidekick.' Not that much difference from before, if you ask me."

"Silence," Titan Bloom, the spiky-haired Seraph, softly admonished the 
rambunctious duo, the feathers on his pair of wings ruffling slightly in
quiet annoyance. "Honestly. This fool's errand that the Witch made us
run is beyond capriciousness," he mumbled under his breath as he
adjusted his hold on the armored Yusuke.

"That just goes to show that the Wonderful Witch of Oz, like all other
women, is a selfish, twittering boob," Weichu Fang, the Chinese angel
boy, acerbically said. "I mean, what good did that stupid mission do any
of us anyway? Hell, because of it, we lost one of our comrades!"

"Now, now, gentlemen. I'm sure our beloved mistress has a reason for
making us do all this," cooed Wren Tranquir, the Seraph with the
formulaic, ivory wings. He aimed a particularly wry grin at his partner-
in-crime, Fang.

"I for one trust the Witch's judgment, since she has led us through
quite a number of victories in the past," the cherubic Seraph elaborated
further. "Remember, just over a year ago, she was known only as 'The
Wicked Witch of the West', and she didn't even like being called
'wicked'. Well, with her keen leadership skills and natural savvy, she
changed all that; she became the beloved ruler of the Land of Oz,
gaining both fame and power. Every little decision she has ever made had
a distinct purpose, and I'm sure this one is no different." 

"Listen to yourself, Wren. It's as if you're giving her all the credit
in conquering Oz!" exclaimed Fang, incensed. "She'd be nothing without
us Seraphs. After all, she's just another silly girl who just happened
to be lucky enough to gain control of the Golden Tiara."

"Gee, I dunno, Fang," Deux Mallow, the sole bat-winged 'angel' among the
feathery-winged Seraphs, interjected. "I think Wren-chan's right. It's
actually the other way around; we Seraphs would be nothing without the
Witch. After all, she made men out of us monkeys after she magically
transformed the Golden Cap into a Tiara. Besides that, she's a great
employer; I really do believe that she truly loves and cares for each
and every one of us fleabags. As far as I'm concerned, we have it made."

Fang harrumphed. "Love. Ha. Sounds like something a woman would come up
with. This love you speak of seems more like temporary insanity to me."
Sneering, he fumed, "Women are about as useful as flowers. They're both
merely for show; useless ornaments and decorations. In society, women
decorate themselves with clothes to reveal, not to hide."

With a half-lidded look that belied a mischievous smirk, Deux
condescendingly queried, "So why do they have such bright colors?"

"Because the peacock has bright feathers," was Fang's mystifying answer.

"They paint their lips...?"

"So that they can smile when we do not want to."

"And their eyelashes are long."

"To hide deception."

"Well, aren't you just a bag of misogynistic sunshine, Pollyanna," the
playfully devilish Deux teased the uptight Fang.

"I would just like to add that the death of that old windbag Thoriphes
is actually a _good_ thing," Nimbus Discord, an angst-ridden, sword-
wielding Seraph whose hair seemed to be a cross between Titan's spiked
locks and Wren's platinum-blond tresses, gamely joined in on the
discussion. "Always tricking others into carrying him during our sorties
since he only has one wing, killing my good friend Thirea, talking to a 
dismembered head inside a jug, and generally being an unethical,
manipulative prick; I'm telling you, he had it coming."

After hearing Discord's rant, Wren started to wax melancholic. "It's all
my fault. I should have been there for Thoriphes. As the second-in-
command of the Seraphs, I should have been more involved in his
training, learned more about him, and discovered a way for him to open
up to me. If only I was able to curb his megalomaniac tendencies before
it was too late..." the dove-winged Seraph heaved a heavy sigh, "I'm
such a failure."

Deux snickered. "Oh, man. Wren loves to blame himself for everything if
you let him. Sooner or later, he'll start saying that there's no air in
space because he didn't work on it hard enough."

"Don't you dare make fun of Wren!" chorused both of the sandy-haired,
azure-eyed identical twins, Ishobus and Ishobima, in a disturbingly
uniform timbre, stirring the slumbering Kurama slightly. "He didn't
become the second-in-command for nothing! His accomplishments in our
past battles should be enough to make his words uncontestable. Don't you
think so, Abyssinian-nii?"

The four-winged, red-haired, purple-eyed Abyssinian grunted in reply,
then carefully inspected his newest acquisition: Thoriphes's long sword,
Muramasa. "Yes, yes. I agree. Thoriphes brought this tragedy upon
himself. It's nobody else's fault," he said in a hurried, tired voice,
mainly preoccupied with sharpening the stolen weapon with his pants' leg
like a barber would with a shaving blade and a leather belt.

"Hey, Abby! Don't make me and Discord carry this hairy slab of man by
ourselves!" Deux reproved, completely oblivious to the piercing glower
that Kuwabara aimed at him. Abyssinian shrugged and complied with his
superior's commands.

"These clowns were the ones that beat us in a fight? Holy shit, I don't
care if we were outnumbered, there's no excuse for it! Kill me now!"
Kuwabara stage-whispered to Yusuke in revulsion.

After a brief gap of stillness, Titan commented, "I was a clown once."

The teenaged Scarecrow proxy... and everybody else present... were left
speechless by the strange segue. "A trapeze artist, actually. But I wore
clown makeup." 

"Somebody pinch me. Did our introverted little Titan Bloom just make a
joke?" Deux asked, boggling in incredulity.

"Maybe, but he probably didn't even realize it," said Wren, chortling
gaily as Fang inwardly groaned.

"Right. Our little Hirou Junior," Deux said, then joined in on the
laughter.

"Enough," Hirou Eye tersely said as he calmly took several small spheres
of explosives from his pants' pocket and threw them at his chattering 
associates. The winged young men scattered in panic, barely evading the
ensuing chaos of the volatile upsurge. The night sky bled red and burned
black as it was turned into a veritable war zone.

"HEY! What the hell did you do that for?!" Deux, Fang, and Discord
unanimously shouted in such a way that made Ishobus and Ishobima feel
like they were being mocked for some reason.

"When Titan Bloom asked for silence, it applied to all of you Seraphs
as well. No discrimination. So... keep quiet," was Hirou's bizarre
explanation for his actions. No Seraph called him on it; they were too
busy panicking and fleeing for their lives.

There was a summery, smoky nip in the air, and Ayame involuntarily
hugged herself as the Seraphic entourage continued to scatter aimlessly
in lieu of recent, terrifying events. She stirred awake within Hirou's
firm grasp.

"Hey, sleeping beauty! You've been dreaming. While dreaming. Try and
keep up, will you?" Kuwabara boldly called out, defying outright Hirou's
orders to keep quiet. One of the muscles under the far end of the
Seraphic King's left eyebrow twitched slightly as he idly played with
the remaining bombs in his hands.

"Huh?" Scratching the top of her head, Ayame yawned into the back of her
hand and stretched her arms wide, slightly obscuring Hirou's vision; the
six-winged boy gave it no mind. "Dream? But that can't be right. Hirou-
san really _is_ carrying me back to his castle," she dazedly said.

"'Hirou-san'? Since when were you and the psycho on a first name
basis?!" Kuwabara demanded, squirming against his tight bonds in sheer
aggravation, but Ayame wasn't listening to word he was saying.

Resting her chin on her fist, the girl of dreams stared down at her
slumbering classmate and smiled wanly. Shuichi Minamino was cute, sure,
but he wasn't really 'Hirou' cute. Did she just think 'Hirou'? She meant
'hero'. Yeah. As she was saying... thinking... Minamino wasn't really
'hero' material. He had more of a 'lost puppy' feel to his cuteness. Or
'sexy teacher'. Definitely 'sexy teacher', she nodded to herself.

Sighing wistfully, Ayame cradled her cheek in her hand and let her head
tilt to the side as she looked down at Minamino. He was so adorable when
he was asleep. He was even more adorable in the company of equally
adorable winged men. Stunningly gorgeous twins flanking him by either
side, holding him up while they flapped their delightful little sparrow
wings; she could just die right then and there! If only Minamino didn't
look so roughened up...

Wait a minute. Why was Minamino unconscious? More to the point, why was
he bruised all over? As Ayame wiped the sleep off of her eyes, she
quickly realized that her companions were still being held captive by
the birdmen. Didn't Hirou Eye just promise her that he would spare her
friends if she gave herself to him? Something was amiss.

"So..." the girl of dreams started, a tinge of disappointment in her
voice, "what I saw just a minute ago was all a dream. Okay. I get that.
But am I asleep, dreaming that I'm awake, or am I awake, dreaming that
I'm asleep? When does the dream end and reality begin?"

"Okay, now that sounds even deeper than what Kuwabara said a while back.
So are you doing yoga too?" Yusuke asked in all seriousness. Ayame
pouted thoughtfully as Kuwabara sniggered.

The daydreaming girl's eyes subsequently widened into saucers as they
focused upon the battered Yusuke and his thrashed armor. "Oh my gosh,
what happened to you, Urameshi-kun? Did a ten-wheeler run you over? Are
you all right in there?"

"Hey, easy with the car accident jokes!" Yusuke scolded, then cheerfully
assured, "Anyways, I'm just peachy." He flexed his arms at the worried
young lass to prove his point, the joints of his bent and beat-up armor
screeching like fingernails on a chalkboard. His voice went an octave
higher as he wincingly pledged, "I-It looks worse than it actually is."

"TIN WOODMAN! Stop cavorting with that silly girl and stay still. Or
would you rather fall from this height yet again?" Fang threatened as
Wren tried to calm the irate Seraph down.

"How come _they_ get to make some noise and not get bombed? I want to
talk too, Hirou!" Deux whined. In response, Hirou flew over the bat-
winged teenager's direction and punched him on the nose. Ayame let out a
small squeal as Deux Mallow screamed in pain for an eternity that
literally only lasted a second.

With that done, Hirou flew back to the head of the flock; by then, the
Seraphs had already recovered from their leader's eccentric and volatile
actions. "Balinese, Siberian, Bombay, get over here," he boomed. A
threesome of winged bishonen looked up from where they had been idly
soaring and quickly hurried over.

Like the rest of the birdmen, the boys were dressed in sparse uniforms
of mostly leather and chain. Unlike the masculine Balinese, whose
sunglasses, wings, and pants were in various shades of purple, the
teenager Siberian was a vision of green while the preadolescent Bombay
was a slightly cooler and more refined blend of blue.

As the second commander of the Howaido Kurosu regiment--Abyssinian was
the first--Balinese was allowed to let his wavy, teal-brown hair hang
down to his neck; Siberian and Bombay were required to keep theirs in
short bobs to represent their positions as junior members of the team.
The trio's myriad of wings fluttered nervously as they hovered at
attention and waited for Hirou's commands.

"Balinese, fly ahead of the group and make preparations for our arrival.
Siberian, inform the Witch of what had happened and start a memorial
service for our fallen comrade, Thoriphes. Bombay, have the Guardian of
the Gates open the gates of the Emerald City to signal the start of the 
welcoming ceremonies," Hirou methodically ordered.

"Yes, Commander Eye!" the two junior Seraphs, Siberian and Bombay, said
in unison, rushing off to see to their duties. Balinese, on the other
hand, mock-saluted Hirou with a wink and a smirk, then followed his 
subordinates.

Hirou Eye shook his head; even though he didn't like Balinese's sheer
cockiness, he had to admit that he brought more than enough to the table
to offset his rebellious tendencies. With his expert use of piano wire,
the teal-haired birdman was one of the deadliest assassins in the Land
of Oz, perhaps even an equal to Abyssinian himself. Furthermore, the
Howaido Kurosu was among the elite of the elite, despite the fact that
they worked undercover in a flower shop by day. 'It's such a shame to
see them... _us_... reduced to doing errands for the Witch. Still, we
could definitely do much worse.'

Soon, after all was said and done, the flock of transmuted monkeys and
their captives reached the place where the second pillar of light lay.
Indeed, they had made great progress crossing the threshold between the
desert and the heart of the Land of Oz, finally reaching the Emerald
City's gates before any of them even noticed. As the damp air condensed
off the high limestone walls like tears rolling down the face of a
crying mural, the wind sang mournfully across the plain. At last, they
had finally reached the Emerald City of Oz.

"Holy shit, the monkeys got us here faster than we could have ever
managed on foot. Who would've thunk it?" Kuwabara said in an amazed and
perplexed tone.

"So this must be the Emerald City," said Ayame in awe, "and look, the
Witch's castle is in the middle of everything! My goodness, it's so
beautiful to look at from up here!"

"Yeah, sure, it's lovely... but as usual, you're missing the point," 
remarked the Scarecrow. "What these clowns were babbling about a while
back was true. The freakin' Witch of the West owns Oz! We were heading
straight for the enemy all this time, and we didn't even realize it!
God, we're in deep shit."

Yusuke frowned as he winced at the greenish glow of the shiny walls.
"Like in the story, everything here is blindingly green, but unlike in
the story, the people from here probably aren't very friendly," he
concluded, raising an eyebrow at all the Seraphs; "birds of a feather
and all that."

"We're here," Hirou confirmed curtly, then called out to the rest of his
Seraphs to land. "Relax your weary wings and walk the rest of the way to
the Witch's castle. You have all earned it."

"Gee, I can get to _walk_ all the way? Oh goody, can I get a lollipop
too?" Deux said drolly, then let go of Kuwabara and hid behind Titan,
Fang and Wren after Hirou gave him one of his flat looks of infuriation.

And so the Seraphs settled down on the ground, their quarries in tow.
Discord and Abyssinian were forced to rebind the Scarecrow's ropes and
chains so that he could walk by himself and they won't have to lug him
all the way to the castle.

At the same time, Fang was able to cogently take off pieces of Yusuke's
armor so that he too could walk by himself. "There's no way in hell that
I'm going to carry that walking stove on foot for the sake of a fool's
errand," the indignant Fang said as Wren, weirdly enough, smiled
apologetically at the Tin Woodman. 

Ishobus and Ishobima quickly followed suit as they went on to brusquely
rouse Kurama from his slumber. The half-youko gasped, waking up with a
start. Pulling back from his winged captors, he looked around in wide-
eyed confusion for a moment before understanding slowly filtered its way
into his expression.

Kurama tried to speak, but all grasp of language had left him. He could
only make brief and strangled sounds of surprise. 'The Seraphs, after
beating us soundly, took us to the end of the yellow brick road anyway?
How ironic.' He swung his head around just in time to see the city's
gates open. There in the distance, where the second pillar of light
acted as a spotlight of sorts, stood an eerie-looking castle just over
the horizon. The Wicked Witch's castle, he surmised. 

'So there's no Wizard of Oz left for us to see; the Wicked Witch has
already conquered the Land of Oz,' thought Kurama. He suddenly heard a
gentle tinkling, like that of a little bell. With a startled look, the
nineteen-year-old boy turned and gave the nearest Seraph a curious look;
all he saw was an injured young blond boy, aided by the sole female
angel he had seen so far from the entire flock. He quickly identified
the lad as the Seraph who lost an arm and a leg while apprehending the
axe-bearing Yusuke. 'Poor kid. He's a victim of circumstance.' Since the
young Seraph's back was turned, the half-youko wasn't able to see the
grimace of contempt on the hapless angel's face after 'overhearing' his
private deliberations.

The twin angels that attacked Kuwabara from before, Kurama's captors,
were presently prodding the half-youko forward. He was not alone in his
maltreatment, though. Ayame, Yusuke, and Kuwabara were also coerced to
march towards the Witch's castle by their respective subjugators. Oddly
enough, Hirou seemed more cordial in his treatment of his hostage,
Ayame, than the rest of the Seraphs.

"Welcome back, Dorothy. Sorry, you're still not in Kansas," Kuwabara
amicably greeted Kurama as Deux, Discord, and Abyssinian... Abyssinian
in particular... continued to forcibly shove him to the fore. He
flinched as the Emerald City's full glory began to burn through his
irises. "Holy shit, let's go to the part where we get our complimentary
shades already! My eyes are killing me here!"

"Yes, yes! Come right over here, sirs... and madam!" Like clockwork, a
diminutive, fiery-haired swordsman with a long ponytail behind his neck
and a cross-shaped scar on his left cheek appeared near the end of the
spacious hallway, gesturing excitedly at the captive foursome to come
over his little cubicle. "Hello. I'm the Guardian of the Gate. How do
you do?"

"We're doing shitty, thanks for asking," Yusuke grumbled, feeling grumpy
about walking around in busted-up armor. 

The Guardian of the Gate blinked soundly. "Oro? How unfortunate. Perhaps
little ol' me can find you a nice pair of spectacles to turn that frown
upside down."

"Heh. Hey, Kurama, Ayame! This guy wants us to join his Glee Club," said 
Kuwabara as he motioned for the rest of his fellow travelers to come
join him and Yusuke. 

"Stop speaking to these hostages and get back to work, Gensai-kun,"
Weichu Fang crossly scolded the docile guardian. Afterwards, the falcon-
winged teenager rudely bumped into Ayame and pushed her away, as if the
girl wasn't even there. She yelped in protest as Kurama kept her from
falling gracelessly on the marble floor.

"Of course, Fang-dono. Oh, and I've already reassigned your locker like
you told me to. It's number forty-two, right in between the Howaido
Kurosu's and Kuroi's lockers. Your special order spectacles are waiting
for you there." In a louder voice, Gensai called out, "If any of you
guys have trouble locating your spectacles, or would like to avail of
our new ergonomic variants, don't hesitate to come to this counter and
ask!"

The good-natured man cleared his throat, smiled brightly, then turned
his attentive, violet-hued eyes to the four hostages. "So, what can I do
you people for?"

"We'd like four orders of the quarter pounder meal, with large Cokes
and fries... but please make the girl's drink a Diet Coke, 'coz she's
trying to lose some weight."

"HEY!"

Before Gensai the Guardian could utter another stupefied "Oro?" Kuwabara
the Scarecrow rolled his eyes and interposed, "We want some glasses,
son. 'Spectacles', as you would say. Why else would we come here?"

"Actually, besides that, we're here to see the Wiz--er, the Witch,"
said Kurama. "Not that we have any choice on the matter. To tell you the
truth, we actually have no idea what she's like. Can you tell us more
about her?"

The man was so surprised with Kurama's answer that he sat down to think
it over. "It has been over a year since anyone aside from the Seraphs
had asked me about the Witch," he said, shaking his head in perplexity.
"She's powerful and terrible, and if you've come on an idle or foolish
errand to bother the wise musings of the Wondrous Witch, she might
become angry and destroy you all in an instant."
 "Humph. Even if she were to summon her wolves, her crows, and her bees
all at the same time, we'd still be able to kick her ass from here to
Kansas," Yusuke snidely retorted with an evil glint in his eye, making
the gentle Gensai feel slightly squeamish. 

"Damn straight," Kuwabara concurred. "It wasn't the Witch, but her dumb
Seraphs that caused us trouble in the first place. However, we Spirit
Detectives rebound real fast. The next time those flyboys challenge us
to a showdown, we'll know what to do." 

"And it's neither a foolish errand nor an idle one," replied Kurama;
"it's important. The Witch herself was the one who had us brought here,
in fact. Simply put, we need to see this Witch in order to find out
what's going on, if nothing else."

"Okay. So be it," said the guardian. "She rules Oz so wisely and well
that I have no doubt that she has some very valid reasons for bringing
you here. But to those who are not honest, or who approach her from mere 
curiosity, she is most terrible, and few have ever dared ask to see her
face-to-face. I am the Guardian of the Gates, and since you demand to
see the Great Witch of Oz, I will allow you to pass. But first you must
put on these spectacles."

Nobody in the party asked why they needed to wear spectacles since
everyone was already familiar with the rather famous children's story,
but the Guardian of the Gates still felt obligated to tell them why
anyway.

"Because if you did not wear spectacles, the brightness and splendor of
the Emerald City would blind you. Even those who live in the City must
wear spectacles night and day. They are all locked on, for the Wizard of
Oz himself so ordered it when the City was first built; it's such an
intrinsic way of life for the Ozites that the reigning Witch of Oz
herself had no choice but to continue the tradition. By the way, I have
the only key that will unlock them." 

Seeing the blank looks on her companions' faces, Ayame rolled her eyes
and said to Gensai, "Wow. That sounds like a big responsibility. It's
kind of weird to put on handcuff-like spectacles on your face, but I
guess it can't be helped since, well, walking into the Emerald City is
like staring at the sun itself!" Privately, she added, 'Darn it, why
must I always be the one to state the obvious and humor the locals? On
the other hand, this Gensai person's not half-bad on the looks
department; he even has a mysterious scar to boot!'

Gensai beamed at Ayame, saying, "I'm flattered by your thoughts, though
I do not deserve any of your praise," making the young lady turn scarlet
in embarrassment. Without missing a beat, he opened one of the many
chests nearby, and the girl of dreams saw that it was filled with
spectacles of every size and shape. All of the boxes inside the counter
had green glasses in them, she deduced.

The Guardian of the Gates found a pair that would just fit Ayame and put
them over her eyes. There were two golden bands fastened to them that
passed around the back of her head, where they involuntarily locked
together; they could only be opened by a little whistle that was at the
end of a chain the Guardian of the Gates wore around his neck. By
playing a particular note on the musical instrument, all spectacles
within its range will unlock automatically. 

When they were on, Ayame could not take them off had she wished, but as
she said, she did not desire to be blinded by the glare of the Emerald
City, so she didn't push the issue any further.

Then Gensai fitted spectacles for the Scarecrow, the Tin Woodman, and
the red-haired half-youko; and each one locked by themselves. The
guardian was so spastically jovial doing this menial task that if the
foursome were to own a little black dog named Toto, they were quite sure
that he'd happily fit the animal a pair of glasses as well.

Then the Guardian of the Gates put on his own glasses and told them he
was ready to show them to the city. Taking a big golden key from a peg
on the wall, he opened another gate, and they all followed him through
the portal into the streets of the Emerald City.

Wren Tranquir's white wings flapped in delight as Gensai, Kurama,
Yusuke, Kuwabara, and Ayame emerged from the small portal. He happily
welcomed the now-bespectacled travelers, acting as if they were special
guests of the Witch instead of her prisoners. Behind the Second
Commander of the Seraphs stood the roguish Deux Mallow, waving affably
and smiling impishly at the party.

Even with eyes protected by the green spectacles, the foursome was at
first dazzled by the brilliancy of the wondrous city. The streets were
lined with beautiful houses all built of green marble and studded
everywhere with sparkling emeralds. They walked over a pavement of the
same green marble, and where the blocks were joined together were rows
of emeralds, set closely, and glittering in the brightness of the pillar
of light. The window panes were of green glass; even the night sky above
the city had a dark-green tint, and the rays of the tall shaft of light
were also green.

There were many people--mostly women and children, and a scant few men--
walking about, and they were all dressed in green clothes and had
greenish skins caused by the predominantly green tint of the city. They
looked at Kurama and his strangely assorted company with wondering
eyes, and the children all ran away and hid behind their mothers when
they saw the two Seraphs that accompanied them; no one spoke to them.

Many shops stood in the street, and Kurama saw that everything in them
was also green. Green candy and green popcorn were offered for sale, as
well as green shoes, green hats, and green clothes of all sorts. At one
place a man was selling green lemonade, and when the children bought it,
the half-youko could see that they paid for it with green pennies.

There seemed to be no horses or animals of any kind; the people carried
things around in little green carts, which they pushed before them.
Everyone seemed happy and contented and prosperous on the surface.

Eventually, Gensai bowed and said his good-byes to the travelers,
leaving them in the care of Wren and Deux as he went back to his duties
at the gates. And so off the six of them went with the rest of the
legion of birdmen as the welcoming ceremonies finally commenced.

Balloons and confetti of different shades of green showered the Legion
of Seraphs as they paraded across the marble streets. The road below
them was smooth and well-paved now, and the country about was indeed
beautiful, so that the four captives silently rejoiced in leaving the
desert and the brick road far behind, and with it the many dangers they
had met in its gloomy shades.

Once more they could see fences built beside the road; but these were
painted green, and when they came to a small house, in which a farmer
evidently lived, that also was painted green. They passed by several of
these houses during the evening, and sometimes people came to the doors
and looked at them as if they would like to ask questions; but no one
came near them nor spoke to them because of the legion of marching
Seraphs, of which they were very much afraid. The people were all
dressed in clothing of a lovely emerald-green color and wore peaked hats
like those of the Amish.

The four soon engaged the Seraphic duo in a conversation concerning the
ins and outs of this Dream World version of the Land of Oz. The sociable 
birdmen, unlike the rest of their uppity flock, were more than happy to
oblige.

The Emerald City was built all of beautiful marbles in which were set a
profusion of emeralds, every one exquisitely cut and of a very great
size. There were other jewels used in the decorations inside the houses
and palaces, such as rubies, diamonds, sapphires, amethysts and
turquoises. But in the streets and upon the outside of the buildings
only emeralds appeared, from which circumstance the place was named the
Emerald City of Oz. It had nine thousand, six hundred and fifty-four
buildings, in which lived fifty-six thousand three hundred and eighteen 
people... most of which were women, children, and the elderly. Young
males of about the same age range as the Seraphs themselves were quite
rare to find among the Ozites, curiously enough. Kurama frowned
broodingly at the fact.

All the surrounding country, extending to the borders of the desert
which enclosed it upon every side, was full of pretty and comfortable
farmhouses, in which resided those inhabitants of Oz who preferred
country to city life. Altogether there were more than half a million
people in the Land of Oz, and every inhabitant of that favored country
was happy and prosperous. No disease of any sort was ever known among
the Ozites, and so no one ever died unless he met with an accident that 
prevented him from living.

This happened very seldom indeed. There were no poor people in the Land
of Oz, because there was no such thing as money, and all property of
every sort belonged to the Witch. The people were her children, and she
cared for them. Each person was given freely by his neighbors whatever
he required for his use, which was as much as any one may reasonably
desire.

Some tilled the lands and raised great crops of grain, which was divided
equally among the entire population so that all had enough. There were
many tailors and dressmakers and shoemakers and the like, who made
things that any who desired them might wear. Likewise there were
jewelers who made ornaments for the person, which pleased and beautified
the people, and these ornaments also were free to those who asked for
them. Each man and woman, no matter what he or she produced for the good
of the community, was supplied by the neighbors with food and clothing
and a house and furniture and ornaments and games. If by chance the
supply ever ran short, more was taken from the great storehouses of the
Witch, which were afterward filled up again when there was more of any
article than the people needed.

"Ah, Communism. If it were only that simple in real life," Kuwabara
muttered. Curiously enough, the Scarecrow soon noticed that there was no
mention of them, the captives, or of Thoriphes's untimely death among the
cheering Ozites all throughout the parade. "Holy smokes, batman! Why
aren't they mourning the one-winged guy's death? I was the one who
killed him, but even I feel a bit sorry for him," Kuwabara couldn't help
but ask Deux.

"Nothing of the sort. The Witch merely loves watching welcoming parades
more than funeral parades," Deux offhandedly replied as he waved at the
crowd and blew them kisses. He cringed as he accidentally touched his
throbbing nose. "Damn that Hirou Eye! He'll be called 'Commander Black
Eye' once I get through with him!"

"And it's not as if the Witch has forgotten Thoriphes altogether; right
about now, she's probably having a private ceremony for him in the
shrine just below the castle. Besides, there's certainly no need to
parade his body across the streets for all the women and children to
see; that's the reason why we've decided long ago to bury all our dead
in the desert," Wren said in defense of his beloved Witch.

"Believe me, it was much worse during the time when we were battling the
Great Wizard of Oz and his mighty Ozite army. Hundreds of us died then,
maybe even thousands..." Wren trailed off, swallowing painfully at the
memory. "We were still monkeys then, and they had slaughtered our
brethren like the animals that we were--"

"Okay, okay! Fine. I'm sorry to hear that," Yusuke honestly (and
hastily) said before Wren dared delve further into his storied past.
"But tell me this; how come the crowd's not even looking at us four
prisoners? It's as if they're outright ignoring us." For the teenage
dropout's part, it was a rather astute observation.

"Well, every Ozite already _knows_ that we Seraphs were supposed to
capture you four and stuff, what with all the Witch's wolves, crows, and
bees running amuck and failing miserably on that regard." Deux adjusted
his tacky baseball cap as he flipped his braided hair from his shoulder. 
"They just, well... quite frankly, they just don't want any trouble,
okay? As long as the Witch is happy, they're happy. That's that, end of
story."

"Going back, you've mentioned something about the Witch changing you
_into_ Seraphs and that you were originally the Winged Monkeys," Kurama
ponderously began. "That's all well and good, but I can't help but
notice that the Emerald City is lacking of young males of about the same
age group as those in your ranks. Is there any particular reason for
that?"

Deux and Wren gave each other uncertain looks before they turned their 
attentions back to the half-youko; they seemed to be at a loss for
words.

"Why don't you tell them the truth, Deux Mallow? Wren Tranquir?" Fang,
out of nowhere, cut in as he nastily grinned at the flabbergasted duo.
"Tell them about the dark side of the Wondrous Witch of Oz. These four
will believe it more than any of the fairy tales you've been spouting
off; they obviously hate the Witch as much as I do."

"What do you mean? What 'truth' are you talking about?" Surprisingly, it
was Ayame who aired the question that was in everybody's minds.

"Like Wren said, hundreds of us Winged Monkeys died during the war with
the Great Wizard of Oz. By the time the Witch had transformed us into
man-angels and conquered Oz, there were fewer than a hundred of us
left." Fang chuckled humorlessly. "In order to keep our numbers up, the
Wondrous Witch of Oz decided that all male Ozites aged fifteen and above
were to be trained and transformed into her beloved Seraphs. Is she not
a true humanitarian?"

"I-It's a voluntary procedure; not everyone is required to go," Wren
objected weakly.

Fang snorted derisively. "'Voluntary', you say? Nonsense. No one dared
disobey the Witch because everybody knew the consequences of doing so.
They could expect no less from the one woman who was able to defeat the
Great Wizard of Oz."

"For good or for ill, she did it all for the sake of us Seraphs; for us
'Winged Monkeys'. Sure, her ethics may be suspect, but at the very least
her intentions were good," Deux fervently rationalized. The rest of the
Seraphic entourage, the four detainees and the Ozite crowd included, did
its best to ignore the heated debate.

"I hate to be cliche, but our road to hell is undeniably paved with her
good intentions," Fang acerbically retorted. "Not that it even matters
now. We've just arrived in the Wondrous Witch's castle. Let the
suffering begin; I can hardly wait."

And so they came upon a big building, exactly in the middle of the
glorious city, which incidentally was the Castle of the Wondrous Witch
of Oz.


***


So the entire train of birdmen and humans alike passed through the
Castle Gates and bee-lined into a big room where a lush green carpet
and lovely green furniture were set with, what else, emeralds. The
Witch's Arena was built not to give the people an opportunity of hearing
the rhapsodies of dying gladiators nor to enable them to view the
inevitable conclusion of a conflict between powers that were beyond
their miniscule comprehension, but for purposes far better adapted to
widen and develop the mental energies of the people.

The vast amphitheater, with its encircling galleries, its mysterious
vaults, and its unseen passages, was an agent of poetic justice in which
crime was punished or virtue rewarded by the decrees of impartial and 
incorruptible chance. The Witch's Arena was indeed a structure which
well-deserved its name; for although its form and plan were borrowed
from afar, its purpose emanated solely from the brain of this woman who
knew no tradition to which she owed more allegiance than pleasing her
own fancy, and who engrafted on every adopted form of human thought and
action which promulgated the rich growth of her hedonistic idealism.

Directly opposite the entrance, on the other side of the enclosed arena
were two large, mostly unadorned doors that portentously came into
everyone's view as they entered the proud citadel; just beyond these
doors was the dreaded Throne Room of the Witch.

The overzealous Fang made the captive quartet wipe their feet upon the
gigantic green welcoming mat before entering the Witch's Arena, and when
they were finally seated on the nearby bleachers, he declared, "You can
wait here until further notice. Don't touch anything, don't do anything,
don't interact with anyone, and try not to look at anything until you're
told to do so. We Elite Five of the Witch's Seraphs have some..." the
falcon-winged youth contemptuously glared at the foreboding Throne Room
doors, "'business' to attend to."

Without further adieu, Fang, Deux, and Wren went ahead of the rest of
the Seraphs, caught up with Hirou and Titan, then departed straight for
the Witch's Throne Room. As the four hostages continued to wait, the
remaining Seraphs formed a line and went inside the Throne Room one
after the other. Like sheep jumping over a fence, the sight of birdmen
marching in single file lulled the four travelers to lethargic boredom.

The foursome opted to face each other awkwardly, each one not wanting to
be the first to speak, until the weight of the silence finally compelled
someone to start. "What now?" one of them asked. They continued to stare
at one another.

The last two of the Seraphs unceremoniously went by the four hostages,
seemingly unaware of the detainees' presence as they continued to
converse grimly. The quartet was able to overhear a snippet of the
discussion just as the youngest Howaido Kurosu, Bombay, revealed, "That
Mariko girl that was with him is dead, too. I found out she was my third
cousin, twice removed. Another member of my family is dead. Soon there
won't be any of them left." He sighed as Siberian sympathetically patted
him on the back. Soon, the pair of angels made it inside the Throne Room
with the rest of their kind, the gargantuan doors booming shut behind
them.

And yet another awkward length of silence stretched out between the four
of them. "I wonder why Hirou and those four other Seraphs always hang
out with each other? Is this like in high school, where everybody has a
specific clique or whatever?" Ayame wondered out loud, intending to
break the ice.

"Thank you, princess of the obvious. I'm sure your 'sole purpose to
annoy' quota has already been filled in for the week," the chain-and-
rope-bound Kuwabara inevitably jibed, wistfully wishing that his cute,
quiet, and adorable Yukina were there with them instead of the abrasive,
unappealing, and noisy Ayame.

"You're insufferable! Just go ahead and die!" Ayame raged while Kuwabara
flashed a mocking sneer at the girl of dreams. Both Yusuke and Kurama
groaned as the two opponents engaged in a puerile verbal debate, hurling
insults left and right until the cows came home.

In the end, the cows did come home; even the novelty of the tirades
present in the heated argument quickly wore down, and, like the flames
emanating from a stack of cogon, the flaring fervor behind the quarrel
went up in smoke.

"Hag," Kuwabara noncommittally said.

"Brute," Ayame yawned.

Another long pause ensued as silence echoed inside the empty stadium.
Kuwabara looked like he was about to say something, but thought the
better of it and kept his mouth shut. Ayame did the same.

Suddenly, a bell rang, making the foursome jump up from their seats in
alarm. At once a young female Seraph sporting green-feathered parrot
wings and a big, acorn-like bell attached to her choker entered the room
and came in front of them. Kurama narrowed his eyes pensively at the
angel girl as a feeling of deja vu washed over him; she had lovely,
strawberry-blonde hair and cobalt-blue eyes, and she bowed low before
Ayame as she said, "I'm Caitlin. Caitlin Glass. Follow me and I'll show
you to your room."

"R-Room? What? B-But... Wait. I have a room? Why do I have a room?
Aren't I supposed to see the Witch with Minamino-kun and the others?
That is, is she going to take long before she meets with any of us? Do
we need to sleep over for the night? Oh, and what about my friends?
Don't I get to share rooms with Shu-chan? I mean, don't they get rooms
of their own?" Ayame blurted out in one breath as the rest of her
companions sweated bullets of exasperation.
 
"If she gets a room, then I want a room too!" Kuwabara butted in.

"Just how long is that damn Witch going to make us wait?" Yusuke
demanded. "We've been waiting here for the better part of the night! If
she's going to kill us or whatever, then she should just get it over
with!" 

"Oh, it's not a bedroom or anything like that," Caitlin guaranteed to
Ayame, tittering merrily as she ignored the rest of the captives'
questions. "It's a dressing room; the Witch has requested for you,
Ayame-san, to change into a dress more suitable for your eventual
meeting."

"Only me?" Ayame queried, pointing to herself dumbly. "The Witch only
asked for _me_ to change my clothes?"

"Yes. Only you," Caitlin confirmed.

"S-She did, did she? Well, I guess it can't be... helped?" Ayame said
uncertainly as she gave Kurama a questioning, confused look. The
nineteen year old shrugged and said, "You might as well do it, Ayame-
san. From the very beginning, the Witch and the Seraphs had treated you
with nothing but kindness and respect save for Weichu Fang. It'd be wise
for you to not get into their bad sides and suffer the same fate we
three did."

So, left with no other option, Ayame said her good-byes to all her
friends except Toto, because there was no such dog present. She followed
the chirpy blonde through seven passages and up three flights of stairs
until they came to a room at the front of the castle. It was the
sweetest little dressing room in the world, with sheets of green silk
adorning the walls and a green velvet counterpane acting as an artistic
focal point.

There was a tiny fountain in the middle of the room that shot a spray of
green perfume into the air, to fall back into a beautifully carved green
marble basin. Beautiful green flowers stood in the windows, and there
was a shelf with a row of little green books. When Ayame opened these
books she found them full of queer green pictures that made her laugh;
they were so funny.

'What the heck am I doing? This isn't the time to laugh! I have to get
this over with and join the others!' In the wardrobe were many green
dresses, made of silk and satin and velvet; and all of them fitted
Ayame exactly. After finding the perfect ensemble of shoes to match with
her dress... an pretty gown made of green brocaded satin... she
unthinkingly whispered, "This is kind of weird," as she put on the pair
of green stilettos and tied a green ribbon around her neck.

"How so, Ayame-san?" Caitlin curiously asked the girl of dreams.

"I used to do this with a friend of mine too; play dress up, I mean.
We used to exchange clothes and... No, that ain't right. Actually, she
'borrows' more clothes from me than I do from her and, up until now,
she's never returned any of them. Honestly, just because we have the
same size...!" Her mouth formed a moue of deep thought. "Never mind.
Forget I said anything."

"If you say so, Ayame-san." Caitlin eventually let the girl of dreams go
back to her traveling companions, but just before she did, she worked up
the nerve to softly ask, "Are you really going to look upon the terrible
face of the Wicked Witch of Oz? Are you really going to face her?"

"Of course," answered the fanciful girl with the long hair bangs. "Since
she's been desperately gunning for us from the get go, we might as well
humor her and give her what she wants. I admit, I have my reservations
in dealing with a psycho like her, but like my kleptomaniac friend Chiho
says, it's always better to face a problem head on than to hide from it.
Besides, this meeting is something that's very important to Minamino-
kun, so I'll do whatever I can to support him."

"What bravery! What dedication!" Caitlin cheered as she, for lack of a
better term, twinkled in awe of Ayame, clapping excitedly enough to make
the bell around her neck jingle incessantly. "Oh, and don't you worry!
She definitely wants to see all of you. Actually, she seems very
interested in meeting you in particular, Ayame-san."

"R-Really?"

"Really! Why else would she want you to dress up for her? In fact, when
the Witch finally sent out the Seraphs to fetch you," Caitlin's 'fetch'
comment made Ayame raise an eyebrow, "I overheard her saying that she
wanted you, the only girl in your party, to be spared from the Seraphs'
wrath. Isn't that something?"

"Wow. Yeah. That's... something, all right. I couldn't imagine why she'd
do that, though," Ayame disclosed truthfully, feeling more than a little
perturbed by the Witch's actions. Not that she wasn't thankful for being
spared, mind you, but why her? What was so special about her? She didn't
even know the Witch... Did she? 'She must be some sort of lesbian or
something.'


***


To be Continued...


Next: The Wondrous Witch's true identity.

Right about now, I bet you're all wondering about these seemingly
extraneous material concerning Kurama and the fantasies of his
classmates and loved ones. Well, for the sake of dangling plot
points and Kurama's innate goody-two-shoes attitude, he has
decided that he must tie all loose ends in Shonen before facing
his final end. For his money, he _must_ do all this. (Real reason?
My muse is a weird little bird that's whacked most of the time. It
probably doesn't help that I actually like the non-sequitur story
digressions found in 'Family Guy'.)

Send all C&C, flames, death threats, etc. to me at either
gabriel_gabdiel at yahoo.com or chester.castaneda at gmail.com;
whichever suits your fancy.

Note that I put in the title _Shonen_ not _Shonen-Ai_. Shonen-Ai 
(male-male relationship) and yaoi are just not my cup of tea. I
joke about and reference yaoi at times, but I do not outright
write about it. This is dedicated to Chimamire Kitsune for giving
me the inspiration to write this fic... Wherever you are, this is
for you.

Disclaimer: Yuyu Hakusho is the rightful property of Yoshihiro
Togashi, Shueisha, Fuji TV, and St. Pierrot. The Wonderful Wizard
of Oz was written by L. Frank Baum and is currently the property
of the public domain. All the other series not directly addressed
in this disclaimer was featured in parody/tribute, whichever of
the two you prefer. Don't sue me please, I'm very poor.

Hanggang sa muli!
Abdiel

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