Chapter Text
Mukuro stared down at the ring distantly, arms folded under her chest and index finger tapping against her bicep. Her posture was rigid, features pulled unusually tight for a woman who always tempered her expression. It was only due to her stellar control that streams of demon energy weren't swirling around her in a show of angry tendrils.
She should have been paying attention to the match ensuing below. The second Demon World Tournament was in full swing and she was still in the running, but her mind couldn’t be any further removed from current events. She was fuming. Still incensed over Hiei’s colossal fuck up three nights ago. His temper and lack of restraint nearly dragged them into a small-scale war with neighboring lands. And while Mukuro rarely erred on the side of pacifism and compromise, she wasn’t exactly eager to run her territory into the ground over a pissing contest, either. If it hadn’t been for Haru smoothing things over and offering a sizable chunk of her treasury as reparation, things would have ended up far worse.
She had yet to dole out the fire-demon’s appropriate punishment. The delay wasn’t due to indecision, fondness or an uncharacteristic stroke of sudden mercy, but a lack of viable prospects. Physical torture was ineffective against a masochist like Hiei. Locking him in the dungeons wouldn’t prove to be of any use, considering his solitary nature. And relieving him of his post for a while would only be counterproductive, seeing as he was one of her most efficient and loyal soldiers.
She was at an impasse.
A knock on the door interrupted the ruler’s unprolific thoughts. Like clockwork, the Spirit World trio entered her private booth, offering up their usual greetings and plastic pleasantries. Mukuro was a bit too preoccupied to give them her full attention, but she did manage to catch the downward tug of Hiei’s mouth every time the blue-haired woman spoke. She was currently prattling on about how she longed to see the demon world outside of the tournament when Hiei’s eye twitched. And that’s when the perfect idea began to ruminate within Mukuro’s mind. There was little Hiei could stand, but at the top of that list was the Spirit World. There would be no better opportunity than this one and so, she pounced on the chance to plant the seeds of retribution.
“Times are changing,” the demoness stated, commanding the attention of the room. “It would do you spirits well to see the demon world the right way.”
The ferry-girl’s expression brightened hopefully as she nodded, ponytail bobbing behind her in a cascade of blue waves. “That’s exactly what I was telling Lord Koenma!”
“Well...” Koenma sniffed self-importantly, “it’s not as though we have many options, Botan. Most demons aren’t exactly fond of our kind.”
Mukuro resisted the urge to smirk as satisfaction filled her chest. “The ferry-girl can stay at my fortress, as an honored guest, of course.”
“...Really?” Botan clasped her hands together, amethyst eyes sparkling with gratitude. “That’s so kind of you, Lady Mukuro!”
Hiei - who had been doing a terrible job of pretending to tune them all out - stiffened considerably and clenched both hands into fists.
A few feet away, the Prince wasn’t faring any better. He was completely flummoxed, mafukan nearly tumbling out of its perch between his lips as he let out a strangled, unintelligible noise. “S-say what now?!”
“Surely you can give the girl a break from her indentured servitude,” Mukuro reasoned.
Koenma’s cheeks turned ruddy as he visibly bristled. “It’s not indentured–!”
“You did promise me a month off, Lord Koenma,” Botan reminded him through a pout, hands settled on her hips. “I hope you weren’t planning on reneging...”
“Of course not! I just thought you’d spend it in the human world – with Genkai and the others.”
“Oh, but this is a much more exciting opportunity!”
Koenma shot her a withering look. “And a much more perilous one. What do you know about the demon world, Botan?”
“I’ve read plenty about it in books…” she answered lamely, shrinking inwards on herself for a moment. “But isn’t that the point of going somewhere new? To experience its customs and culture?”
“It’s still too dangerous for a ferry-girl!”
“That won’t be a problem,” Mukuro announced evenly, casting her gaze towards the fire-demon. “Hiei will be her personal escort and bodyguard for the length of her stay.”
“What?!” Hiei barked.
Mukuro ignored his outburst in favor of returning her attention to the flabbergasted Prince. “The two are already acquainted, and you know firsthand that Hiei can be trusted to carry out his orders completely and objectively. Your ferry-girl will be safe with him.”
Koenma sighed, rubbing his temples. He must have realized he was backed into a corner, left with little to no choice but to agree. If not to appease his overly eager ferry-girl, then to at least avoid offending one of the Three Kings by declining such a generous proposal. “Yes, yes, it seems as though there won’t be any harm in letting her stay for a while…”
Botan lit up.
Hiei scowled darkly.
Mukuro tempered her expression as she nodded. “Then it’s settled. Haru will make the arrangements.”
“Consider it done,” the emotion-reader obliged with a two-fingered salute.
As she fixed her eye back on the tournament, her ears picked up the sound of Hiei muttering a very old, very heated Makaian curse under his breath.