Yu Yu Hakusho Fan Fiction ❯ The Shadows of a Crimson Moon ❯ Foreign Gardens : The Flight of Nosferatu ( Chapter 2 )

“Koenma, you look very flushed. Is everything all right?” Botan raised her violet eyes to the figure of the aristocratically clad child, his teal uniform blaring off the light of office walls.

 

He thought for a moment, gnawing upon his pacifier radically, deep silence overcoming him.

 

“I'm concerned, Botan,” he began sharply, “I'm worried about that girl.”

Botan looked upward from a particularly fascinating section of the floor and met his small image.

 

“She is in pretty bad shape…” Botan concurred heartedly, lacing one leg over the other from where she sat.

“Yes,” the toddler continued, “but I'm grateful that she isn't violent. Even in an unconscious state, one of her kind could be particularly ruthless when it comes to restraints of any form…especially considering what she's been through.”

 

Everyone involved in the case of the imprisoned vampyre was aware of her story. They knew of her ordeals, and of her nature, and how unpredictable it may or may not be.

 

~.:.~

“She's a poor, tortured soul given much unrest,” Koenma explained to the group once long before, “for absolutely no justified reason, other than that of her knowledge. She is a prisoner of the demon Tadashi, and I believe we all know him. He knows exactly how to immobilise the unfortunate girl in any given circumstance, and that she cannot die. We know that when we go and fetch her, that he'll be on her trail like a bloodhound, and we will have to do everything in our power to keep him as far away from her as possible.”

~.:.~

 

 

“When do you think she'll come to?” Botan inquired as she scanned over a thin mass of parchments about the odd girl.

 

“Soon,” Koenma confirmed, looking back at his assistant, “with the fluids, I imagine she'll be as fine as she is able to be.”

 

Botan nodded solemnly, turning a page over in silence.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Her eyes opened steadily, wary to move from her allayed position. Her eyes were blinded with a subterranean, sallow glow, almost stunning her with its intensity.

She sat upwards exceedingly gradually; cautious of anything she did not recognise…

…which was everything.

 

She was aware of how her rags were replaced by an unfamiliar garment of sorts, one she could not identify as one of any century she was able to remember.

 

There was a large looking glass beside where she lay, and at the beginning, she did not notice its being there, until she turned to get off from the long bed in which she was resting.

 

When her eyes met the face of the mirror, it was as if she was an animal caught in the headlights.

Her image almost terrified her.

 

Perhaps it was her disturbing beauty that shocked her the most, her overall image of pain and nothingness sending tremours throughout her body.

 

She was cleansed even, her soft flesh holding a sweet scent of jojoba and her hair holding an aromatic of rosewater and a hint of musk.

 

Her scars were a slight, reddened crimson and contrasted profoundly with her ashen skin.

 

She was faintly stunned at how incredibly large her fangs had become over the many years, remaining the same pearl white. But how was this so? She had not bled anything since God only knows when, and how much colour was in her cheeks, and, dear god, she had a reflection. But…how?

 

That was when she discovered the many cords piercing through her wrists, connecting her to large, obtuse machines injecting oddly tinted fluids into her veins, which had never carried a single pulse of life.

 

The wooden vortex residing on the other end of the sizeable room opened swiftly and leisurely, its golden knob twisting gently and giving out a vague creak.

 

In its face, stood a rather pretty, youthful woman, not entirely a mortal, yet not a demon, either, who closed the door delicately, whose bright gaze averted itself to the window, which spurted out streaks of tepid sunlight through the wide curtains.

 

“Koenma told me that you can survive sunlight,” the odd girl proclaimed steadily, walking stridently to the windowsill and throwing the drapes open with great vigour, her arms spreading like hawk wings.

 

The amber sun gleamed throughout the entire room, swallowing everything within its path with warm, incandescing radiance.

 

“My name is Botan, by the way. I hope you don't mind me disturbing you like this, but I was just coming in to check on you. How are you feeling? Never mind, you don't have to answer that. I was just being nosy. But are you sure you don't need something? I can get you anything you need, if you just ask for it.”

 

Her words were slurred into one large mass into the listener's ears.

Botan smiled, her face turning a soft scarlet.

 

“I'm sorry…I talk too much.” She gave the girl a sweet smile, and cocked her head nervously.

 

She ambled over calmly to the edge of the bed, and sat down with immense grace and poise.

“Do you have a name? I think it would make this a lot easier.”

Silence weighed upon them both.

 

“My mother identified me as Tari. I imagine that to be my only given name.”

 

Her voice was filled with reverberating sonorities, a most seductively caressing sound, like the golden ripples of a stream. She had a slightly monotone yet soothingly mellow tone, which gave her the sound of great articulacy and wisdom. Overall, it was a very heartrending voice indeed.

“Tari?” Botan smiled, putting significant and thorough emphasise on the sound, “That's very beautiful. Thank you for telling me.”

 

Tari merely nodded, focusing away from the girl's bright lavender stare and rather unusual cerulean tendrils.

“Well,” Botan began softly, “I suppose you're wondering why you're here, no? Well, let me be the first to explain. First of all, do you know who Koenma is, Tari?”

 

“I am afraid I do not.”

 

“Well, he is King Yama's son. He is the ruler of The Spirit World.”

 

Tari nodded, listening intently.

 

“Koenma is the one whom you can thank for saving you from…`you know who'…and getting you out of…`you know where'. He was adamant on helping you after hearing of your imprisonment from a dependable source, and sent two of our allies to go and release you, and bring you here. We understand that you are very shaken and unstable right now, and there is absolutely no pressure to do anything you're not ready to do. Just go at your own pace, and don't try to accomplish too much in too little time. You're welcome to stay here in this castle unless you don't wish to.”

 

Tari wrapped the information deep into her mind, embracing the words wholly and with great consideration.

 

“Now let's get these things out of you.” Botan smiled, arose, and went over to Tari.

 

Slowly, she removed the clear tubes from all sides of Tari's wrists, bandaged, them tentatively, and cut off the power supply to the large monitouring machines.

 

Gently, Tari began to rise.

 

“Are you ready to stand already? You sure?” Botan grasped Tari's forearm gently, as if aiding her.

However Tari was in no need of help in any sort, she was perfectly able to situate upright on her own.

 

“Well, we best get you out of this robe. Come with me, I have something to show you.”

`A robe…so that is what it is?' Tari pondered silently to herself, scanning over the garment as if to prove Botan's words as false.

Tenderly, Botan guided Tari over to a large wardrobe, opening the massive oak doors in a similar method as she did the window curtains.

Tari's radiant bottle green eyes widened, in both surprise, yet more so in curiosity.

 

Before her laid an array of clothing, ones she could not identify as easily as she could the others.

 

“Do you see anything you like?” Botan urged, waiting somewhat impatiently for Tari's response.

 

Tari was silent, and could not find words to utter, if there were any. Slowly, she ran her frail fingers across the soft materials, studying their touch with great intensity.

 

“Well, go on! Pick something out!”

The chipper of Botan's words intimidated Tari to a slight degree, and she hesitated, frozen in place.

 

Botan smiled, putting a hand lightly on Tari's shoulder.

“Here, I'll choose something out for you. You tell me if you like it or not.”

Botan reached forward, and brought forth a selection of items.

 

One of which, sparked Tari's intuition with immense force.

 

“Go try it out, and see if you like it,” Botan grinned and shooed Tari jestingly into the washroom.

 

Moments later, Tari returned, her image causing Botan's jaw to fall to her feet.

 

“I…I think we have a winner.” Botan concluded cheerfully.

 

Plastered upon Tari's face was a look of uncertainty, not knowing if it was an excellent or a poor choice.

 

In the place of the peculiar garb she had once draped over her, now remained a short skirt of sorts, deep cobalt in colour and a black, open shouldered top garment. On her legs, there were heavy, metal clamped boots that reached to the tip of her kneecaps, and over her shoulders, rested a heavy, ebon cloak, the hood resting down her back.

 

“You look lovely!”

“…Thank you.” Tari took a deep, heavy bow, and gave no more expression.

 

Botan nodded softly, smiling brightly.

 

“Well. Look at you. Up, walking, and doing everything, so early! So. Do you think you're up to meeting Koenma? He's very exited to speak with you.”

 

Tari smiled dimly, and for only a moment.

 

She loomed the cloak's hood over the top of her head, a shadow hovering over her ravishing, picturesque face.

Botan opened the door steadily, widening its mouth as she held it ajar for Tari's exit.

“Follow me, I'll take you to him.”