It wouldn’t have occurred to someone like Botan, not without obvious signs, but Kurama’s demeanor had changed on the way home. On the outside he was the same Kurama, his expression satisfied after what he had received from Genkai earlier that evening. The night was calm and their trip home unobstructed, or so he would like Botan to believe. Ever since they had left the train station and made their way to the streets, there had been a sensation at the back of his neck, a presence he couldn’t quite explain. It was faint, and if it weren’t for the fact he had to be on guard given the nature of the case they were given he may even have missed it entirely. Someone—or something—had eyes on them, causing him to inwardly become guarded.
Catching Botan’s eyes on him, Kurama responded with a smile of his own before his gaze returned forward. He was fast enough to intercept anything that would reach Botan, and even move her aside if need be. But nothing threatening came. They were merely being looked at, taking great care not to be seen or heard directly.
‘Is this the one we’ve been after?’
Anything was possible, but there was little time left to break down the possibilities in his head. The trace of energy nearby had spiked, causing an ominous wind to brush past them. It had even affected a nearby street lamp, causing the light to flicker several times. This stalker had concealed their presence enough that Botan didn’t pick up on any odd sensations, so to throw away that element of surprise either meant complete confidence, or worse, that he had made his awareness too obvious somehow, forcing the pursuer to abandon any need for surprise. Or even more likely, this was the goal all along: strike them. Four imps of the same energy he felt from afar had crept from the shadows, claws razor sharp and practically salivating in anticipation of tasting blood.
“Stay behind me,” Kurama muttered, closing the gap between Botan and himself. Reaching into his hair he had drawn a rose, fully formed and emitting a powerful glow. Through his spirit energy it had changed shape, turning into a long and deadly whip complete with thorns. A familiar and reliable technique known as the ‘Rose Whip’, even he had to admit that it was overkill for nothing more than these loathsome creatures, but with Botan here he wouldn’t take chances.
She believed that this was a good time to try and earn some combat experience. If this were any other time he might have agreed, but he wasn’t pushing her against facing any of them, especially outnumbered.
“Help if you see an opportunity, but do not put yourself at risk trying.”
It was all he could say before two of the four had begun to charge at them. Kurama guided his whip forward to meet them, lashing out at such speed that the exact order of strikes would be difficult to follow with an untrained eye. As he retracted the whip, the head, midsection, and legs of the imps that dared to charge the detectives had been severed, their expressions unchanged. They were killed before they had even realized it. A merciful death, better than they deserved if those bloodied claws were any hint to go by.
Rather than fall to the ground in a disgusting pile of leathery, bloodied flesh, they had done the exact opposite. Each part of them had exploded just as the whip had returned to him.
‘They detonate once killed!?’ Kurama grit his teeth, his eyes immediately piercing through the nearby darkness to find a third closing in beside him, while he sensed the fourth closing in from the opposite side, threatening to lunge at Botan.
Like before, Kurama’s whip had shot forward to slice the imp into pieces, but this one had reacted faster than its brothers by leaping up into the air. Not fast enough. The whip had followed it, slicing it from the bottom up. It exploded just as its brothers did as Kurama spun around, retracting the whip in preparation to strike once again, intending to capture the final imp as it closed in.
He had felt it beforehand but wasn’t quite sure what Botan had been preparing to do. The buildup of spirit energy moving to her index finger had said it all. The Spirit Gun. While not quite on the level of Yusuke’s own in term of speed and deadliness, the technique on its own was surely enough to stun a demon of such low class. If they could capture this last one, if it would talk, they could get much needed answers.
“Botan, its yours!” Kurama said with confidence, awaiting her own strike. Should she fail or hesitate, he was there to strike out and capture the demon with a tight bound of his whip.
Botan had one shot at this. Literally.
Taka
Dane
erikh