Adult-FanFiction.org : YuYu Hakusho

Reparations	By : Artemick Category: Yuyu Hakusho > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 3013 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Yu Yu Hakusho and earn no money writing about it.

Chapter List
- 1-Reparations
- 1
Kurama's knees went out and he slipped through their fingers, his weight bringing him out from their hands to the floor. He closed his fists. There were no seeds under his nails, and though he'd been allowed his rose, he would need more than that to cross Yomi.

Shun-jun, the captain, pulled him up and embraced him, crushing Kurama's fists to his throat, pushing Kurama's face to his chest. "I missed you."
Kurama stood, breaking loose. He lifted a hand without fighting, just to keep distance between them. "I don't know you."
"Don't be coy," Yomi said, sitting down at a heavy chair by the table. He pulled a plate forward, serving himself meat from the tray as Kurama stared, stepping back.
"We met on the hunt, remember?"
"No."
"You can say that, but I remember your skin when it was pale. Your hair when it was silver," the SDF soldier said, licking his lips. He reached out, catching air as the fox retreated. "I remember Yoko's narrow shoulders shivering on my cot. Each morning more scarred."
Kurama made himself smile. "I share a soul with Yoko. His memories, he can choose to let me see, or hide. He must have felt that pain was private."
Shun-jun walked forward, reaching out to yank loose the tails of Kurama's fitted oxford shirt, even as Kurama tried to tuck them away. He grabbed a fistful of the cloth, moving for an instant with the speed of an A-class. Kurama inhaled, eyes flicking up. They stared at one another. Then Kurama slowly pulled free. Shun-jun let him, smiling.
"Kurama does not like to be touched," Yomi said. He sat and lifted a forkful of meat into his teeth.
"Nor Yoko. But they're both so silken."
Kurama's lashes fluttered. He looked away, listening to Yoko's whispers, reliving the scraps of memory.
His eyes darted up to Shun-jun. He stepped back.
Yomi purred, "Be nice."
"This man is exactly who we fought, Yomi!" Kurama's voice sunk deep. "He is an aristocrat who floats on stolen wealth and brutalizes the subjugated. This is why we stood together. This is who you hated – what have you become to welcome him?"
"Why are you here, Shun-jun?" Yomi asked the man, as he crumpled a napkin. "Your whole team couldn't take me, let alone my territory. You can't really be here just for a bite of my advisor. Some stumpy human with rumpled hair."
"I am more interested in who he is than what."
"Who I am is no concern for you," Kurama growled. "I have unconditional amnesty from King Yama's court. It was the first guarantee of my service."
"Your contract is with King Yama's son, for whom I have an active charge to bring in for treason." Shun-jun laughed. "I'm on the clock now, running down the little exile. So you, Kurama, essentially have a 'get out of jail free' coupon written in crayon. I was told immediately of your location when the king returned. Do you think your rights exist?"
Kurama breath came shallow. He moved to the table and sat deliberately. "Then there will be no conflict of interest. I have new alliances. New work."
Yomi chuckled. Kurama glanced at him.
"We have your mother."
"She is under my protection," Yomi assured the fox. "Don't lie."
"We have your human life, Kurama. Maya. Your mother's lover. His son. The environment they live in is encompassed in the realm of the human experience, and that is ours."
Yomi turn his senses at Kurama. The boy, who was once a leader of demons, was clasping his hands. The tendons in his knuckles sung, taut, as his breath grew slow.
"You are the same," Yomi said, pointing with his fork. Kurama turned to him. "When you think."
Kurama opened his lips.
The SDF soldier walked up behind Kurama. He dropped his hands over the back of the chair onto Kurama's shoulders. Kurama pushed up from the table, scrambling to the side, but the soldier forced him down into the chair with a thump.
Kurama glanced at Yomi, who kept eating, grinning.
"Shun-jun, get your hands off of me."
Shun-jun lifted his hands. Then he reached back and traced a fingertip up Kurama's neck.
Kurama slammed his hands down, twisting to the other side and pushing the chair into the captain. "Stop!"
Before Kurama could blink, Shun-jun knocked the chair aside and shoved him against the table. Kurama put his hands up to guard his head. Shun-jun stepped up against him, grinding as he grabbed the fox's wrists and turned him around, shoving him down on the table.
"You're too slow, Kurama!" He pressed Kurama's chest and head down, letting him fight, jerking and twisting.
Yomi snorted. "Yoko. Weren't you explaining to me how important the strength of my second would be in the war? Should I really have you at my side, this weak?"
Shun-jun pressed the red curls aside and hissed, "Do you sound the same when you cry, Yoko?"
"Yomi, this –"
"Oh, you'll beg me? How?" Yomi lifted his hands. "Please Yomi, help me in my time of need – because of our friendship and trust. Because of the loyalty we share."
Kurama was silent. He bore loud wet kisses on his neck, but shuddered as Shun-jun moved down his spine. "Yomi. You…invited me here. You won't extend protection to a guest?"
"Do you need it?"
Kurama let his breath out, nearly a sob. He said, into the table, "You know…I am weak when I'm surprised. My only strength is in planning. I am only of use to you in planning for this war. Not in my own defense."
"He's right," Shun-jun said. He jerked Kurama's shirt. The top buttons ripped; Kurama whimperd. Shun-jun pulled the shirt off Kurama's shoulders, staring at his skin. "I'm not your opponent yet, Yomi. And if you let me have my games, I won't be. Otherwise, protect your old comrade, and I'll put in some volunteer hours for Raizen or Mukuro."
Kurama shifted, "He can't do that. It isn't allowed! He's a government dog; it's a toothless threat. He only seeks to humiliate you and our kind before his team, the SDF that hunted you and I, the same ones that killed our entire family. They think demons are dirt, insentient toys, tools. We are animals to them, we have no rights beyond what we can demand. To him, we are nothing – "
Shun-jun gripped Kurama's hair and cracked his head against the table. His green eyes drifted a moment, stunned.
The SDF captain took the lull to turn him over, slam his shoulders back on the table, and pin his hands. He tore off the trim belt circling the young man's hips.
"Yomi, you're not an idiot and I'm not a silver-tongued conniving dog." He threw the belt on the ground. "I respect demons. You also know we humans aren't so clever to come up with a big scheme like that. Humans are simple."
Yomi laughed.
Shun-jun slapped Kurama's thigh. "I just want some closure."
Yomi put down his drink. "I understand entirely."
Kurama inhaled sharply. Waking, he tore his arms loose and twisted away, striking at Shun-jun's neck.
Shun-jun struck him twice, first a slap to startle him, then a punch to the temple so hard Kurama's head snapped to the other side and hit the table. He went limp, hands falling open. Shun-jun cleared his throat.
"So can we deal? Just a couple quiet nights?"
Yomi nodded.
Shun-jun rubbed his hand up under Kurama's shirt. "That's cute, isn't it? He's dressed so professionally. Like he's going to the office. Everything ironed and in place."
"I like it," Yomi said. "He knows that. I like innocence. Don't you?"
Shun-jun ground against the fox, running his hands up and down him like a cat stretching. He moaned. "He can pretend."
After a moment of handling, Kurama woke. He sat up. Shun-jun grabbed him by the throat and slowly forced him back.
"Let go or I'll shake you, and it might just snap your neck. That's not a problem for me."
Kurama locked eyes with him for a moment, then opened his hands.
"Adorable. Is that surrender?" The SDF captain grabbed Kurama's knee and pressed his leg up.
Kurama lifted a hand to stop him, but thought better of it. He covered his eyes.
Shun-jun groped through his khakis, then slid his hand inside the fly. "You aren't enjoying this enough. Am I bad or are you afraid?"
Kurama pushed his hair off his forehead. "I remember your murders. You don't have any control. You killed informants by accident."
"Fear it is then." He let go and pulled the young man's tailored slacks off, dragging red scratches lines down his legs.
Yomi smelled it, heard Kurama's gasp.
Kurama smashed his elbow down on Shun-jun's head. He brought his other fist into the captain's throat from the side.
Shun-jun charged up, butting his skull into the fox's chin. Kurama's head snapped back. Shun-jun grabbed him by the hair and punched him across the face.
Kurama's knees failed as he lost consciousness, the third time in minutes. Shun-jun slung him back on the table. "Fucking tedious."
Yomi stood. "Restrain yourself. You and I have the same memory to fight over, and only this bruised tidbit to go around. I understand. It's remembering a garden you love…you return to burn it to scorched earth, only to find it's no longer a garden. Just a common plot of weeds. Maybe the odd choked out rose with a worm eaten bloom. It's a disappointment."
Shun-jun leaned over the young man. "I just want a couple nights to take him apart."
"I need him functional for the war."
"I won't pretend we're backing you or even getting involved. But you know…it wouldn't hurt to have him fear you a bit. Fear your power. Fear to disobey."
The demon king held a finger to his lips and pointed.
Shun-jun looked down.
He leaned down and whispered in Kurama's ear. "You can hear me. Wake up, fox. Or I'm going to take this lovely curl and rip it right out."
He wound his finger in Kurama's hair. "That will wake you."
Kurama opened his eyes. He turned slowly, eyelashes fluttering. Shun-jun grinned. "Good morning."
Kurama shuddered and turned away from them.
"What do you think, boss?" Yomi asked.
Kurama stared at the demon. "Will you be able to forgive me after this, Yomi?"
"Hm?"
"To see me humiliated, in pain. To know someone so weak was once your master?"
"I pity you now, that's all."
"Then if I submit and suffer, will it be penance? Will you forgive me for your eyes?"
The SDF looked up sharply.
Yomi's lip curled. "No need to air dirty laundry, pet."
Kurama winced and tried again. "Let me make it up to you."
"You could never pay back my sight, Yoko. Shun-jun, go on. And here, please. I want to hear it all. Make him scream." He reached out and poured himself a glass from the carafe of wine.
"Yomi, please, this is a game to him, meaningless conquest! You're a pawn, being made fun of. They don't respect you as a ruler, to come in here and demand compromise from you."
"Thank you, King Yomi. Shh, shh." Shun-jun tried to put a finger on Kurama's lips. "His majesty's declared it."
"This is a whim, not even of Spirit World but of a single human, and you're cowed by it – "
"I am not on my back, in tears at another's entertainment," Yomi said, helping himself to fruit from the dishes before him.
Shun-jun screamed as Kurama revived splinters from the table and sent them growing into his side.
Yomi stood, leapt forward, and pulled back Kurama's fingers, ready to break them. "Behave."
Kurama kissed Yomi's hand. He pressed it to his face, weeping. "Why isn't it you? Do you hate me that much?"
Yomi jerked his hand away and Kurama wept, turning his face away.
"Such a mess," Shun-jun groaned. He pulled out the wood spars and snarled, "Tell the fox to calm down or your deal's off, Yomi, and the SDF will be joining this power struggle against you."
"Shut up, human."
Kurama tried to pull his knees up and together, but could not; Shun-jun still stood between his legs. Kurama drew his arms in and covered his face with his hands.
Yomi grabbed Shun-jun by the back of the neck and forced him aside, down into a chair. "Yoko?"
Kurama slipped off the table. "Yes."
"Show me how you forgive me."
Kurama nodded. He was holding his trousers to his hips, but did not try to zip them. He pressed his hand into his temple, blinking. Yomi grabbed his wrist and twisted it, forcing him to his knees to avoid the wrist being snapped.
Yomi pulled loose the obi that held his robes. "Show me what consent is like. Show me your sorrow. What you wish me to feel."
Kurama nodded. Staring up, he stroked Yomi's thighs with the backs of his hands, then his fingertips. He moved close, spreading his knees wide until they pressed against the inside arch of Yomi's slippers. Pulling his hair over his shoulder, he smiled up. He stroked the back of Yomi's knees and ran his hands over the man's feet.
Yomi loosed himself from his clothing. Already hard, he guided his erection to Kurama's lips. Yomi slapped it gently around his mouth, over his cheeks. Kurama left his lips parted, waiting. Yomi gave it to him and Kurama closed his lips around the dark, swollen head. His hot tongue slid along underneath.
Shun-jun kicked Kurama hard in the back. Kurama's teeth scraped Yomi, making him cringe.
Kurama pulled off, whispering an apology. He leaned into Yomi's thigh, running a hand to his back. His voice was filled with pain.
The blind demon struck the SDF captain sharply across the cheek and pointed a finger into his face. "Behave."
"Don't tell me to behave. You follow the rules or don't."
"We can each have a taste. I'm sure our new red kitsune doesn't mind indulging us both. You owe me, Yoko."
Kurama looked up. His brows drew together in the center, his lip curling slightly.
Shun-jun reached out, grabbing a fistful of the young man's hair at the scalp. Kurama grasped Shun-jun's wrist, his hand on Yomi's hip for balance. "Hear that, theif?"
"My reason was not betrayal, Yomi. It was protection of those I led, the greater number. But for that loss between us, I will obey until you've sated yourself with my pain."
"This pains you."
"M-my guilt pains me." Kurama corrected, feeling along the path of his tormentor's mind. "I answered your summons to make amends. I'm here to be forgiven. To repent. To you. As you choose."
"And if I tell you that pleasing us both will please me? Wipe your slate clean? Will you be a husband to us both for the night?"
Kurama swallowed, silent. Then his voice creaked, "He killed everyone we knew, Yomi. Everyone. I was the only survivor, and only because he enjoyed a trophy to rape."
"So do I."
"I thought you were more."
"Perhaps my injuries have made me bitter!"
"Mine have given me hope."
Yomi pet him, crouching. Kurama's eyes searched him, flinching as Yomi held his face.
Yomi pressed their foreheads together. "You must have hope, if you intend to train an army for me when you are so very weak."
"I already have candidates in mind, strong fighters from the Tournament. We're familiar with each other. I defeated them and know how they can improve. You know I can coach fighters. You've seen it."
"You coached me."
Kurama swallowed. "I tried."
"I suppose I am a product of your coaching, Kurama." He ran his nails over Kurama's scalp. Kurama opened his mouth, nearly crying out. But it was anxiety, not pain, and he stayed silent. "Are you afraid of me?"
"I can be of use to you."
Shun-jun yawned. "Spare me the melodramatics."
"They're my favorite part," Yomi said. "Go on. Call up those memories. Ask Yoko how I like it. How tight I prefer your lips…the direction of your tongue. Ask."
Kurama nodded.
Shun-jun stepped up, masturbating.
Kurama tucked his hair behind his ear, glancing up. He wiped his hand over the corner of his eye. "Kohl?"
Yomi smiled. "It is you. Yoko."
"Did you doubt it?"
"I…suppose I did, until now."
Shun-jun groaned. "Please! Stop the reminiscing."
"You'll like this one." Yomi held up a finger. "Yoko here would reward first kills with his own willing thighs. And the third or eighth times I came in, he just invited me back. He was getting ready for a feast, painting up his eyes. I came in. He put the kohl on me. He sucked me off. Kohl lined yellow eyes staring up at me. I rolled him on his back and fucked him."
"Good party," Kurama said quietly.
Yomi laughed. Shun-jun did not.
"Don't mind if I crash," the captain growled.
Yomi wiped his mouth, hauling Kurama up. He pushed Kurama's body into Shun-jun. "Bring him along to the bedroom. I want to be comfortable in my old age."
Shun-jun's hands closed on Kurama's shoulders. He squeezed, rubbing the fine linen. "Mm. Don't want to wrinkle you."
"Don't touch me – "
Yomi lifted his hand. Tall granite doors at the end of the hall grated open. "Yoko. Come play."
Kurama jerked loose and followed.
Shun-jun had the jog to catch up with him, and he grabbed the back of Kurama's neck to force his head down. He spat under his breath, "Listen, you little bitch – "
"I know. Whatever you're going to say, I know – "
"Good. But it bears repeating. Even if you do everything I say, your mother's still going to die."
Kurama stopped. His eyes fixed on the man, but blind. He brought his hands up to his face, covering his nose for a moment, then pushed off tears. "What?"
Shun-jun kept walking.
"Come back here!"
Yomi appeared beside Kurama. He embraced him, and they were beside the bed, moving the distance in an instant.
Before Shun-jun could catch up, Kurama asked in the ancient language, "Is my mother safe?"
"Yes."
"He says he's killing her – "
Yomi smiled. He took Kurama's hand as he used to, before raids when the fox demon would grow philosophical and nervous, afraid of the uncertainty. Only for moments. But for those moments that he was afraid for the lives of his people and the dangers he asked them to brave, when he was not slender as lightning and blind ambition, he sparkled. He was delicate as frost, and fragile. Then he saw the people around him, and drew comfort in their strength. It was on those nights Yomi fought to sleep near him.
"I put a knaeti demon on her. One of the queen's ex-guard."
Kurama touched his mouth. Fear and reason fought with him. He nodded. "You will – the knaeti won't allow another assassin nearby."
"Not for miles. Not even as a buried corpse in an unmarked grave."
Kurama nodded. "Then he is wrong."
"Wrong?"
"He says he will kill her either way. No matter what you decide."
"He has no right or ability. I can warn the knaeti though. Get word and see if she's killed any competition yet. Perhaps she didn't think it was worth sending word."
"I would be grateful if you would, Yomi…that would sooth my heart."
They were words Yoko had said many times, in distraction over some detail that wasn't worth the trouble.
"Entertain the man while I'll check for you." Once, Yomi had been glad to curry favor that way - he remembered he didn't need to now, but it was habit. The pleasure it brought Yomi to humor the fox was already a taste on his tongue.
Yomi walked out another door in the side of the bedroom. Kurama glimpsed an office staffed with nymphs made of sunlight, beautiful translucent creatures.
"Where's he off to?"
Kurama motioned to the bed and began to unbutton his shirt. He pulled it off. "I'm to entertain you."
Shun-jun moved to a chair beside the bed, a white shell of mother-of-pearl forming the back. He sat, spreading his legs.
The arrogance burned Kurama. The entitlement – that he would not even need to explain, or order, that Kurama would simply do as expected, as if he was trained, as if that was his place.
"Don't look at me like that."
Kurama threw his shirt on the ground.
"Pick it up."
"Are you my mother now, a replacement?"
"Do you want to see her again? Pick it up."
"You said you'd kill her either way. Why should I? I've no reason to even live."
"I'm waiting." Shun-jun gestured at his strained erection.
Kurama sneered and turned.
Shun-jun darted beside him. Grabbing his neck and arm, he threw him down before the chair. The edge of the seat cut through Kurama's brow. When he pushed off from it, mouth gasping like a fish, blood drizzled over his eye, staining the white cushion.
Shun-jun stepped over his head, falling back into his seat with a sigh. "Ah, there."
He grabbed Kurama's chin and hand. He placed Kurama's hands on his crotch, one after the other, and began undoing his belt.
Kurama panted, pulling one hand back to his head.
"Oh, does that hurt?" Shun-jun pressed his thumb into the cut, making Kurama cry out. "Does it hurt?"
Kurama quickly sat up on his knees. He rubbed at Shun-jun, kissing his thigh, scrabbling at the buckled of his belt.
"Ah. That's good. Good man." Shun-jun took his fingernail out of the wound. He gave Kurama a heavy pat on the head.
Kurama scowled up at him. He pulled back the man's fly, stroking inside.
"Take it out."
"You'd better do it for me," Kurama simpered. "I'd hate to scratch you by accident and earn another concussion."
"Sit up."
Kurama straightened, pushing up on the seat. As he did, Shun-jun scooted forward and spread his legs further. Kurama balked. Shun-jun grabbed a handful of his hair.
"So soft." He bent and smelled the red curls. "Fresh."
"Get off…" Kurama growled.
"Trying to. Put your mouth on it."
"Let me go, please, so I can."
Shun-jun loosened his grip and patted Kurama's cheek. "Sweetheart."
Kurama pulled his briefs down, sneering. Shun-jun helped, cupping his balls and pulling out his erection. The fox blanched.
"Didn't remember how big? I supposed you'd sustained a lot of blood loss by then. You might not have been conscious."
"I don't recall you were picky about that."
"Don't waste time."
Kurama looked up and shrugged. "And do what?"
"Kohl. You know what."
"Walk me through it. Tell me what you want."
"Oh, this game?" Shun-jun pet him, shoving his cock against Kurama's cheek. He rubbed the head up over his cheek, dragging a wet line to his eye; there, Kurama balked and turned away. Shun-jun laughed, wiping the rawly sensitive head of his cock along the shell of the boy's ear. "Come back to me. Open up. Take it in."
Kurama scoffed.
"You know, if you're going to be a bitch about this, I'm going to crush your skull and take you on the floor. This is kind of me. So stop wasting time. Suck me off – you know how – and don't play your damn stupid games with me."
"Okay."
The door opened.
Shun-jun watched Yomi stalk back, and looked down in time to see Kurama smiling wickedly.
"Time's up," the fox said, standing.
"Get back here." Shun-jun pulled him down. He muscled him back to his knees. Keeping him near with a grip on his hair, Shun-jun slapped his cock against Kurama's chin. "Open up."
Yomi stopped near them, watching.
Shun-jun looked up. "I thought you told him to obey."
"I told him to entertain. If you don't like a fight, don't court Yoko."
Kurama shut his eyes, still grinning.
Shun-jun rubbed the head of his cock over Kurama's lips, wetting them. "Your little whore's a bit of a brat."
"Reticent. Well, he is spoiled. Having had the best most of this life. As I have. Do you see this room, captain?"
Shun-jun looked around. "Yeah. And I appreciate the invitation."
"Beautiful, isn't it? Pristine."
"Yeah."
"What color would you say this room is?"
"White. Sir."
"Right, it's white. You see, I like my things clean. White lets the servants know everything's truly clean. I don't like unusual smells here, where I sleep." Yomi stepped forward. "What's that on the chair?"
"Huh?"
"Is that blood?"
"Uh…"
"Is that blood, from my lover, staining my white chair, in my bedroom?"
"Pretty thing had some spit left. It was an unfortunate necessity."
"If you appreciate the invitation here so very much, and you understand my position – specifically compared to yours, a captain of the SDF against the king of a fair expanse of inter-dimensional territory and most pertinently against the past and future lover and business partner of the person who you've put between your knees with a bloodied head, the fourth concussion you've offered in the last hour - why didn't you stand when I entered the room?"
Shun-jun opened a hand, grinning. "Because I'm getting a blow-job, sir."
"Yoko stood in the middle of giving one."
"He wasn’t as keen on it." Shun-jun shoved Kurama out of the way with his shoe. He grabbed the arms of the chair and hefted himself to his feet. He tucked himself away, smiling at Kurama, who was wiping his face on his shirt. "Look, your highness, I didn't mean to start without you. Little Yoko here said he was to entertain. I took it in the spirit I thought it was meant. Didn't realize we were still formal. It was a cultural misunderstanding."
"It happens." Yomi lifted his hand. "Move, dog."
"Yes sir." Shun-jun moved aside, taking the neat posture of the spirit world's mercenaries, straight backed with his chin up.
Kurama flinched from him. Yoko's memories were pressing against the membrane of the barrier. He was catching glimpses. Shun-jun had held him down before. It had been a long time.
Yomi leaned forward as he passed. He winked.
Kurama did not know what it meant. Or rather, there were too many things.
Yomi offered his hand. Kurama took it and got to his feet.
"You are hiding your aura, my fox. How much? Your seams are breaking."
Kurama acknowledged it. "Not enough to turn down your help, I assure you."
"Well." Yomi moved past him, leaving the two humans staring at one another. Yomi settled into his chair. He made a motion with his hand.
Kurama knelt by his foot, reaching around his knee. He rubbed against his leg, grinding. He licked Yomi's knee, then kissed him as he crawled up into his lap. Yomi held his jaw. The kiss was messy. Parting, they smiled at one another. Yomi sighed and patted his ass. Kurama straddled his lap and leaned around to kiss Yomi's neck.
Yomi kept a grip on Kurama's buttock and grinned at Shun-jun, waving his hand in a so-so motion. "A little presumptive. But we know each other."
"You haven't tasted anything I haven't had my fill of," Shun-jun chuckled, sitting on the bed. He pulled his ankle over his knee and settled back.
"I think I might have."
"May I?" Kurama asked, sliding his hand down. Yomi murmured in affirmative, and Kurama spread out his robes. Kissing under Yomi's chin and over his chest, he moved over and slid down between his legs.
"You think you get some extra zazz because he's willing? He's afraid of you. You think he wasn't afraid of me by the time we were finished?"
Kurama shivered; his word were triggering memories. Yoko was flashing back without control, and his turmoil and panic were seeping through. Still, Kurama moved with delight and peace, his hands stroking Yomi's abdomen, leading down.
The demon took them in his own hands. Kurama hid his empty face from the blind man.
"Are you afraid of me, Kurama?"
"I should be," he breathed.
"You're not?"
"I…should be. I'm planning."
"Honest." Yomi squeezed Kurama's hands until he inhaled, hissing, about to beg. "Sorry. I'm angry."
Kurama nodded.
"I'm guarding his mother," Yomi explained to Shun-jun. "Yet it seems there were others on her. SDF personnel."
"Well. I had to keep it in the family. We do each other favors."
"My assassin prefers not to draw attention on the job. She doesn't do law enforcement personnel. Doesn't like to, anyway."
Kurama looked up, his tongue darting over his lips.
"We have a similarity, she and I. We don't like competition." Yomi stood and stepped out.
His arm and leg lengthened in a warrior's posture, crossing the distance in an instant and nicking Shun-jun's neck clean through.
The man's head fell onto the bed spread, mouth opening.
Kurama drew himself up. He brushed off his knees.
"Look at this." Yomi straightened and shouted to the nymphs in his office. "Clean this up! Blood. Everywhere."
"I'm sorry," Kurama said, holding a hand over his head. "I don't match your décor."
"It's not the red," Yomi said. "Obviously, idiot. It's the blood, the stench! It's disorienting. It's distracting."
"I know, Yomi. That's what I meant. I'm bleeding."
"Oh, not you – no – your blood I recognize. Please sit."
"But I can help you." Kurama glanced at the corpse and felt his heart lifting. "Let me smooth this over with Spirit World. I don't know the ruler, but I still have contacts, and there is a way to release this information that will benefit your rule."
He paused and Yomi waved a hand.
"First, I will call and claim I killed the SDF assassin in defense of my mother. I will tell them I'm accepting your invitation, in light of their betrayal. Then you will contact them - or I will contact them for you, and we will report a second attack. We will deliver Shun-jun's body and explain the SDF was trying to interfere in the election. Or wanted to ransom my life for your favor – or wanted to deliver me for a revenge killing. Whatever you prefer."
Yomi's head bent, listening.
"I think it will work."
"Go. Call."
Kurama nodded. He went to the dining hall where his bag remained. The chairs had already been replaced. Still breathing hard, Kurama was relieved to hear Yomi complaining to the nymphs about the mess of the corpse. He retrieved his phone, alone.
He called his mother and said goodnight. It was sweet to hear her voice; afterwards, he felt a blind, supernatural confidence. He called Spirit World and delivered a shaky, angry accusation to the reaper who answered.
King Yama interrupted the call. "Koenma, my traitor of a son, thought you were worth something, fox! I think the same despite the wretched spawn's unfortunate alliance. And here you are contracting out to some demon tyrant? Do you have any loyalty to this kingdom or your contract?"
"What loyalty have you shown to me, allowing your assassins free range on civilians? We do have a contract – an open one that protects my family! Yet you send a Special Defense Force soldier to kill my mother? You and I had no quarrel!"
"My son – "
"Is a strong soul like his father. Disobedient, only because he wanted to obey the greater and more ancient order: to keep peace on earth. If you continue to quarrel, there will be unrest in the demonic kingdoms at what is seen as spirit world's weakness. But that is not my concern - "
"YOU – "
Yomi moved a hand, disrupting the energy of the call. "What in heaven did you do to that little machine?"
Kurama lowered the phone. "Ki replication of the signal. It's very low energy."
"We have a technical department. Biomedics. You should take a look sometime." He leaned on the edge of the table. "I apologize."
"There is nothing to apologize for. I'm grateful; I couldn't think of a way to end the call without him threatening my mother, and I don't think King Yama – despite the spankings Koenma goes on about – would have any personal interest in me I could leverage."
"Twice."
"Yes."
"I'm not speaking about the threats to your mother tonight."
"Then twice what?"
"Twice you have used me, playing one monster off against another."
The phone still in hand, Kurama pointed to the body that the nymphs were cleaning off the floor. "Don't let them burn that. You need it for evidence."
"Do I?"
"Yes. Unless you don't trust me; then you should do as you like."
"I should. Shouldn't I?" Yomi turned and walked toward the office. "I have a call to make in a few hours. You should sleep when the bedroom is clean. Rest."
"Yomi!" Kurama ran after him and bowed. "Thank you."
Yomi turned slightly. He put his hand on his chest and bent. "I apologize. That was your kill."
"No. I didn't need to kill him myself. I didn't ever think I'd ever have the pleasure of seeing him die. I am a thousand times more humble now than when we last ran together. After what that man made me watch, what he did to me, and how I fled from him, I know at how weak I am. I have that shame. I can be useful…my mind can be. But strength – if I ever had it, that time's over. I am grateful, deeply grateful, that you could kill the man that caused me so much terror."
Yomi nodded. "Well, he bled on my carpet."
"Give me a brush. I'll scrub it out on my knees."
"Darling as that might be to see..." Yomi found his voice catching.
Kurama grinned. "My pleasure, Yomi."
He nodded slightly and went to his office.
Kurama turned his phone over a few times in his hand. He was anxious. Then he went on with the next step of the framing. He texted Yuusuke: "Killed SDF that came after my mother - do you know why?"
There had been no replies from him since he went to train with the monks, so Yuusuke probably would not see it – but Spirit World's intelligence would find the text when they analyzed the case.
Kurama would have to learn more about the assassin's kill and destruction of the corpse before he claimed it. He decided he could say it was destroyed to that it would not upset his mother. But by then the bed was ready. He folded away his clothes and slept.

In the night, he felt the mattress shift. Yomi crossed the huge bed on his knees, nude under an open robe. He slid behind Kurama, stretching his legs out, the ball of his foot rubbing into the arch of Kurama's feet.
Kurama arched his back, grinding into Yomi's erection. He edged back, playfully turning his head to toss his hair over Yomi's neck and chest. Yomi tucked his nose into Kurama's hair, groaning happily, and bit his scalp lightly. Kurama's toes curled. He hooked a finger in the band of his boxers and shoved them down, pushing them off the bed. He rolled over and Yomi lifted up on his hands and knees, climbing over him. His hair slipped down along his neck, drifting against Kurama's chest.
Kurama smiled, reaching up. He dragged his fingers over Yomi's ears, lightly as if he were touching a harp. The demon moaned.
Kurama murmured, "I adore lovers with long hair, Yomi. It feels so good across the skin, doesn't it?"
"Only if you comb it."
"Oh! Never. You don't understand curls…"
"I remember all this." He laced his hand through Kurama's curls and tugged, catching the tangles. "Dirty. Fragile little fish…pale – "
"If my body is so horrid, keep your hands off it."
"I can't because of the person, the mind inside it. Who you are is thicker and more enticing than this thin form should hold."
"I've been told tonight that neither the person nor the mind is worth very much."
"You are not good. But you are fascinating. You are dangerous, and that makes every soft moment with you delicate as snow. I used to think that whenever I saw you. That I could bear to wait for the moments when you were clear, lucid as ice light with sun."
Kurama stroked him and felt a wordless guilt. He would not apologize. He loved Yomi then; he loved him now. And that could not justify how he had treated him. But it had been necessary, for the many, for the greater good. As a leader, Kurama had responsibilities…that he had probably failed, in dealing with Yomi so badly.
"I can hear your shame. The way you swallow now. Your heart. I can hear the tension in your muscles as you shift to turn away."
"Are you going to hurt me?" Kurama asked. "For taking your sight?"
"The demon took my sight. You wanted my life. You asked for me to be killed."
"I wanted you to know weakness," Kurama said. "I wanted you to gain some humility."
Yomi held him down by his hair. He moved to speak in Kurama's ear. "Some what?"
Kurama narrowed his eyes. "Don't be obtuse; you lead now, so I know you understand."
Yomi shifted. "I do."
He sat up.
Kurama also sat up. He looked over Yomi, the injured resurrected genius, his second in command, his young lover.
Kurama had missed him after the assassin was sent. He had wept. He couldn't say it now, because it was true, and precious, and to say it here would sound like a lie. It was too terribly convenient. But he had mourned Yomi. His person, his body, and his touch.
Kurama pulled his knee up. He lay his leg over Yomi's thigh.
Yomi smiled, rubbing his shin. "What's this?"
Kurama lay down, his back against the fine linen. He pulled up his other foot and lay it on Yomi's shoulder.
Yomi laughed and kissed it. "What are you doing?"
Kurama ran his hands over his body. The sound of skin on skin, however slight, illuminated the shape of his body for the man. He stroked his nipples and moved down to his erection.
"Cute," Yomi said.
"Can't we pretend this is one of those times when I was drunk…and my lips were purple with wine…and I dragged you in from the watch to dance, and you had me on the table in the middle of the crowd?"
"They knew Yoko liked his lovers. No one was surprised. I miss that happiness."
Kurama's voice broke. "I have never been as happy as I was then. I have felt it, but…our tribe. Yomi, how could anyone have betrayed us? We were all so whole."
Yomi grew still.
A quake of intuition rocked Kurama's chest. He sat up. "Yomi!"
Yomi tilted his head. "I was dead. I was in a ditch crawling. You can't imagine I - "
"Shun-jun. You knew each other."
"No – "
"He thought you were weak. He thought a demon king was weak. He wasn't stupid – he caught me – but he made that mistake with you? Or he knew you when you were absolutely harmless?"
"I was never harmless." Yomi put his hand on Kurama's throat.
Kurama's hands went to the demon's elbows, ready to lock them down, to fight. He was not even thinking of the mismatch in power. His body moved to defend itself automatically as his mind raced.
He flashed back to the massacre, seeing his most beloved – officers and lovers and friends – all mutilated and torn. The few alive raped and tortured and humiliated. SDF roaming their camp and taking their treasures and killing the children and aged alike, for who could know, these demons, their shapes shifted, and wasn't it fun when they cried?
And at first they kept Yoko half dead, tied by his wrists, hanging from a post that had once been a maypole for their dances. There were still ribbons on it – stolen velvets, wool yarn, torn silk. Anything they wanted. Drunk, they had taken everything.
Yoko had hung from that, knotted in the ribbons. His scarcely living corpse was their banner. Blearily, he watched images that he only made sense of later – the fire and mutilations. He was in and out of consciousness. His wrists broke. His shoulders pulled out of their sockets from his weight. Shun-jun would pet his face. Others whipped him. Things hit him; he was target practice. He remembered seeing blades hit, embed themselves, hang and slide out. He cried and did not care who saw. His blood dribbled down over his knees and dried. He was alone.
At night it was cold.
Soon everyone was dead, or captured. His stomach gnawed at him. Shit ran down his legs. His lips were cracked.
The next round of troops came in to set up camp to process evidence and catalogue the recovered items. One of them was ordered to give him half a cup of water. With that, he came round enough to realize his second in command, Rina, was kept nearby, also hanging.
They took her down and he cried out. He screamed, dry throated. He whispered, begged.
Shun-jun held up a hand. "You like her?"
"She is my best friend. These people were my heart."
They brought the loot to Yoko then, and he answered where it was taken from. When he hesitated, they stomped on Rina. So Yoko answered quickly. He knew every piece.
At the end, they gave him more water and took Rina away.
"Don't take her," Yoko had begged.
Shun-jun had stroked his face and then cut off Yoko's clothes. He made him kneel. He began to cut down the ribbons the demons had woven into a mesh around the pole. He put them around Yoko's eyes and through his mouth. He tied them in his hair and around his cock. He tied Yoko's ankles to his wrists. Then he looped them around Yoko's throat and made him hobble, crawling.
Yoko remembered doing it, blind, and hearing them, but not caring.
Shun-jun beat him, then lifted him and lay his wrecked body on a cot. He pushed his fingers into his mouth, then between his thighs, inside his body. He raped him. Then he let others. And he would come back. Yoko knew it was him because he could talk while he did it – not just curse and hit as the others did, not gloat – Shun-jun would just talk, just talk, about logistics, about old crimes, about following Yoko crime after crime.
He never got to the part where he found them.

Yomi sighed. "It's past."
"I never thought it was you! Because I thought you were dead. But – how could you? To me, yes, but all of them? Yomi…you learned nothing from me. You learned nothing!"
Yomi was quiet for a long time. Then he took Kurama's shoulders and guided him to roll over, bent on his forearms and knees.
He licked his fingers and began to massage Kurama loose.
Kurama pressed his face into his arms, gripping his hair. "Stop."
Yomi put a hand on the small of his back, hushing him. He pulled at himself, then pressed in. Kurama grimaced; it hurt beyond sense, that horrible inside hurt, and it reminded him.
Yomi began to rock, pleasing him, but Kurama's certainty and rage made him suffer, unable to calm himself.
Shoving in, Yomi finally paused. "Is it that bad?"
Kurama said nothing. He lay his head down, trying to think.
He stroked Kurama's hips and said, almost to himself, "That wasn't supposed to happen."
Kurama was silent, thinking. If he hadn't called the assassin on Yomi, hadn't left him for dead, the SDF wouldn't have found Yomi so vulnerable. Yomi wouldn't have told them – but he was afraid, caught, newly blind, in horrible pain. Kurama's act resulted in a leak, the loose end that killed their organization and sent him to the human world.
Kurama began sobbing with rage. The pain of the other man's cock, the raw memories Yoko was reliving in shock, the trauma to Kurama's innocent body – it all bore down. He wept through gritted teeth, his face soaked.
Yomi finished inside him. Kurama had come weakly. His body had given up under the weight, drained and afraid, and obeyed where it was led.
Yomi moved off.
Kurama curled up.
"Fox?"
"I am the traitor."
"No. Listen. I told the SDF - "
"I don't want to know."
"Please..."
"It's – already happened. I don't need to know how."
Yomi asked, "Sit up. You're not a weak thing here. You're not a child. I will not kill you for knowing. Sit up, please."
Kurama straightened. Holding his stomach, he moved to the side of the bed and hung his feet over. He stared down at his toes, insides burning.
"They caught me. I was still in the ditch, drinking water, waiting…waiting for you to come rescue me. I suspected you, but…I don't know. It was easier to pretend I hadn't brought it on myself. The SDF found me. I knew their reputation. Shun-jun didn't know who precisely who I was but he was ready to kill me, just for fun and because I couldn't get away, as practice, because they were hungry to hurt someone, no real reason. So I traded you. I said you had blinded me, attempted to assassinate me, that I was a witness to your crimes."
Yomi moved away. He stretched out, pulling his slippers near and sliding his feet into them.
Kurama rubbed his arms. "There was no reason to be loyal to me. But our tribe - "
"I was angry," Yomi murmured. "At you. Because you did not come to protect me."
"Yomi, they knew nothing of what I did. Our sisters and brothers died in flame, cut – "
"I know. I was there. I identified you. Tied to that maypole, I remember everything smelled horrific, but they ran my hand over your face and I knew it was you."
Kurama held his breath.
"I was afraid. I was afraid, Yoko. I am not you; I am not – clever when I am vulnerable. I am sorry for our family. I witnessed what happened. But getting caught by the SDF was my worst nightmare – "
"It was mine as well," Kurama smiled. "And I was not even blind."
Yomi nodded and took his hand. Then he stood. "I will let you sleep here alone. Tomorrow, you will have your own room. I appreciate your touch."
There was a silence. Yomi cleared his throat and turned to leave.
"I meant what I said." Kurama leaned toward him, catching his hand. "Let us forgive one another."
Yomi was still. "Our intentions never ran so cruel or so far. Yet you sacrificed a lover to save your tribe. To save my hide, I slaughtered every friend I had. Even forgiven, mine is the greater fault. I did learn that."
Kurama watched him. "You should never have been put in such a position."
"Your forgiveness isn't enough, is it?"
Kurama was silent. Yomi sighed, a smooth exhale. Then he nodded. "I will let you sleep."
"Please, lay with me."
Yomi kissed his mouth. "Even then we did not sleep together, remember? I cannot; you frighten me, and I you. Neither of us sleep."
"Tonight is different." Kurama was so lonely, with his memories like enemies' torches surrounding him in the night, that he felt he might die if he could not press his ear to another kind heartbeat as he slept.
"As a human, I am tame."
Yomi laughed. "Foxes are never tame. They grow more wily and wild – horrific beasts. Now. Lay down. And thank you for your touch."
Kurama lay awake long after the king left him. He remembered the burning camp.
He asked Yoko, but either Yoko did not remember Yomi identifying him, or he felt it was private.
Kurama imagined it. But he could not feel it was real. Yet he was sure it was true.
They were small creatures, all of them, in the middle of forces and powers that pulled them like currents. Someday they would trust again, perhaps. The cautious fox and the charging goat. Halves of a whole, neither a traitor.
Kurama dreamed it to be true, and it felt in that night like it might be.

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