Adult-FanFiction.org : YuYu Hakusho

Risk of Conviction	By : Artemick Category: Yuyu Hakusho > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 4082 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own YYH characters/names/anything, or the songs and lyrics that were used to name the titles and are cited at the end of each section. I do not make any money out of their use and abuse.

Chapter List
- 12
- 13
“Did you enjoy that?”

I woke to the horror that it was all real. My throat ached. I coughed. I tried to lie. I held out for about a minute, smiling and even trying to kiss him to distract him. “You wanted me; you have me. Forgive me the trouble I caused. Without some price, a thing has no value.”

“This is a punishment,” Koenma sighed, letting his chin drop onto my head. “So it’s alright if you didn’t enjoy it. Just say it.”

I stroked his chin. “You are a beautiful jailer.”

“You’re insincere.” He paused. His eyes fluttered over me. I shifted gracefully onto my back and stared smiling at the ceiling.

Koenma gave a great sigh. He threw himself onto his back and reached into the air. A rippling set of piano keys appeared. He pounded on them. By some miracle, or his wishes, the frenzied movement expressed a tune.

Koenma groaned, throwing his arms back over his head. “Jerry Lee Lewis. There never was another.”

I sat patiently. After a moment, I realized he was waiting for a reaction. I said, “Sorry. Who?”

“Fox, I’m ashamed of you.”

“I’m not a liberal arts major.”

“Foxes are supposed to be literate, talented, educated.”

“But I grew up in the Makai, son to a couple heartless animals who left and were likely killed in traps. There's no language, no music. No a privilege as an education."

“Is that why you study now?”

“Yes. And ecology interests me.”

He scoffed. “That song. What’d you think of it?”

“What song?”

“The one that played while I was inside you before.”

“I…I didn’t notice it.”

Koenma put his hand over my eyes. “Then listen.”

There was a scratch as the record reset. All my senses cut off, as sure and sudden as a blackout. Everything except my hearing was gone. He’d taken every bit of sensation except my ears – and mind.

My thoughts spun in horror, trying to compensate the loss.

The song began to play. It was piano, jammed and broken chords, repeated and repeated like a pile driver. A man was speaking, singing, whooping. The crowded notes were as fast as my heartbeat, my thoughts overlaid like his cries.

I reached out, then froze. I didn’t want to move and hurt myself in the dark.

The song ended.

The flourish of notes brought my senses back.

They spread from the edges of my body, bringing pain back, as a paper lit on the edges tosses flame, bleeding brown inward like poison from the heat, crackling to an orange hot-wire edge that turned to ash.

Koenma lay on me. He was embedded deep in me.

My body tensed around him and I lifted my hands to my face.

“Good song.” He groaned. “Oh, too tight. Relax.”

I forced an even breath. That was rape. It was so horrible, so much worse than every other time, just because this time it was different. Another memory. And my mind – to know he could do that, to know he would…

He embraced me, as if he were charmed by the struggle, pressing his head to mine.

I could not bring myself to put my hands on his back, so I was still.

He pulled out, still fat and hard. Holding himself, he motioned.

I sat up and crawled back.

He moved to slouch against the headboard. “Straddle me.”

I did. I did without protest. The pain I feared was already so great that my body was flooding me with
endorphins. I held the top of the headboard. His prodding made my breath quicken. I was sore.

Dreamless, maybe only instants later, I woke. Koenma rolled over, smiling. His back was lit by a spinning wheel of golden light. A halo.

I blinked, focusing.

“Wake up.”

Inhaling, I pressed my lips together and righted myself. The lack of context disturbed me. I lay back, throwing my arm over my face.

“Kurama. I suppose that was too much.”

I looked, silent.

He winked and the gold halo became a huge ring, like a wedding band the size of a dinner plate. He flicked it. It pinged like the ring of a wet finger against edge of a wine glass.

I frowned. “This is what, a visitation?”

“Only in the prison sense – conjugal.”

I didn’t laugh.

He picked off the halo, holding it in his fist. Then he took my hands, arranging my wrists together.

I winced and looked away. But I felt him put the ring around them. It grew small, tight, like rope made of metal. He threw it into the air, like tossing a hat, and it dragged me up off my knees, and hung in the air.

My arms ached. He chuckled. I got my legs under me, crouching. Licking my lips, I tried, “Koenma. Please.”

“What?”

I said nothing. I didn’t want to give him ideas.

“Let me guess, fox: “Don’t fuck me in this position” or “Don’t leave me here!” Close?”

“E…either.”

I twisted, pushing one knee down to see if that might offer better support.

“I like that…it shows off the lines.” He ran a hand down my arm and side, over my ribs and all the way to my hip. My breath leapt at the light touch. “Long, white. Like Isaac for sacrifice.”

I had no idea what he meant. Then, behind him on the wall, the painting of the Makai country turned into an image – a Western European painting of a young man, faceless and caught in the light. He lay on rocky ground. An old bearded man suffocated him with him hand spread over the youth’s face, crushing his head backwards. A woman with the wings on a blue bird seemed to stay the old man’s arm, causing him to drop a long knife.

Sunlight hit the side of my body. I looked over. The storm on the side window was clearing. Bolts of warmth were coming through, hitting my skin.

I looked down.

Koenma grinned. He held a long blade.

“No! Koenma, stop – “ I pushed back, standing.

He lunged at me. His cheek hit my sternum and he pulled me close. I felt the hilt hit my ribs and looked down; he’d only struck me with the butt end of the knife.

“I can’t heal myself. You said I could die here.”

“I also said you might.”

“Oh, Koenma, not like this…” I shook my head.

“How then?”

“Not…naked…please.”

“How do you want to die?”

I breathed, considering.

After a moment, listening to only his breath and mine, I said, “In battle. Armed. Clothed. Beaten. When I’ve exhausted every choice, not because of some stupid mistake. I…Iwant to know what the blow will be. But I want to shut my eyes. And…I want Yuusuke Urameshi to do it.”

“Him? Why?”

“Because I know he will be merciful.”

“I’ll put it on his schedule.”

I looked at the weapon. Because I did not want him improvising again, I said, “I had a lover cut my clothes off once. Then he fucked me, holding the knife to the side of my throat.”

Koenma whistled. “You remember that?”

I looked up. “I couldn’t forget, even after I’d killed him. But I mention it because….he enjoyed it, and I suspect you might.”

“Enjoy getting killed by you?”

“No. With the knife. At my neck.”

He looked at it, then at me, with complete innocence. “Why?”

“Because you’ll know that as you could kill me at any moment.”

“I don’t need a knife for that.” He smiled. Dropping it, he ran his hands up my ribs and kissed my stomach, at the hollow where my ribs joined like a cathedral arch.



Koenma’s eyes went wide. He dropped the knife the pushed himself away.

In the darkness of my heart, I smiled. “Prince. What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong? I’m fucking a kid with blood running down his throat.”

“Oh. Did you cross a line?”

“Shut up!”

“You were kind enough until I wouldn’t serve you. Now that you bleed me out, and I obey like a dog. But you aren’t happy. What did you want from me?"

Koenma put his feet over the side of the bed and sat up, his mind on his life.

I was released, and I dropped down. I rubbed my wrists. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

I waited.

He stood, still hiding his face. "We looked so long for you, you know. When I realized you were in my domain…and living such an ordinary life."

"Tedious," I joked. "But satisfying. Human parents have a way of – making small things matter."

"I know. I mean, I watched it all. I think I know more about your childhood than you do," he said.

"Then how can you do this to me?"

Koenma sighed. "It's a punishment. It's not so bad. We have people in the hells downstairs getting their nerves eaten by ants."

"That's – " I shook my head. It was horrible. I couldn't think who could do that – who would go to such trouble? That alarming amusement at suffering that marked him and his hell also marked the oddity of humanity. They put effort into hellwork.

I said slowly, "The human realm is different. Kitsune know how to abandon. We never force. We are not frustrated, so we do not commit violence without reason."

He snickered and turned his eyes on me. Leaning near, he dragged his knuckle along my chin and shook a finger at me. “This is not without reason.”

“Sufficient reason?" I asked.

"Did you never stay around to take a look at the massacres your gang of thieves left? What I've done to you was less than your people, under your orders, did to a populace in a single hour." He lay down on the bed and shut his eyes.

I had not taken full responsibility for my people. That was true. "I loved my tribe. But I didn't know the strangers. You don’t know demons, prince; we…"

"What? Are you arguing you all deserve that? What a turnabout."

I stopped. "I meant that I acted merciful for someone in my position and in my culture. You can't act as a human, within bounds of human morality, in the Makai."

He pushed his head up on his elbow. “Do you ever think about taking off those voluminous shifting veils? What if there’s nothing behind them?”

“If I could have invented a self outside experience, environment, and behavioral patterns, it’s far too late now.”

“Too old to self invent?”

I pulled the skin under my eyes. “Wrinkly.”

“You’ve fooled me.”

He had no idea. He probably thought I wasn't the same person as when I'd walked in. But I was old enough that I could tell I had become desperate and complacent, but not traumatized. I had not split, inventing a more tolerant version that was willing to suffer. But I could hardly tell him I was only playing along, unrepentant.

“You won. I’m persuaded. I'm doing what you want, trying, begging to please."

“Persuaded you? I don’t think so." He peered at me. "You shouldn’t be able to use your craft.”

A grin trickled out through my lips. “I don’t have craft to move a blade of grass here.”

“You should not be able to lie. Not so well.”

A shock of fear made me sit up. “Lying?”

“It’s not your power we want, fox. It’s your mind. Your games.” He reached out this time, but it was to smooth my hair and calm me. “You have such discipline and control over your own mind. You become what you need to be to survive."

I kissed him so suddenly our teeth clicked. My eyes were shut the entire time. I opened them slowly to find him watching. I felt suddenly the intensity that I was focusing on him. Pleasing him, watching him, needling him.

I pretended that I was smiling to cover hopeless confusion, and lay down. I sunk into image training. Drawing my energy back, I cut the bonds between us. Now it was as if we were strangers. I opened my eyes.

He gave me an odd look. “It’s like you’ve got twelve different people within you.”

“Three is enough.”

Koenma wiped himself with the sheet. I remembered his comment, how I was dirty. As if we were not all made of earth. I wonder if it is separating ourselves from it that causes cruelty—perhaps we, lacking the embrace and rough fulfillment of nature, have nothing good to give

“You’re hungry, prince. For something I can’t give you. Please, can we end this?" I said. "I’m afraid that you could maim me—that you might want to, even if just for that single moment that it takes to carry out the act. And I don’t want to devolve into some wretched whisp of conscious rationality just to stay alive.”

He leaned over, gripping the bed. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“May I have your word, that this ends here? That…I've paid. That you will keep the contract and never treat me his way again."

"I suppose it worked then."

"Torture does."

"You'll behave. Do as you're told."

"I was behaving – except for the mirror…and that was out of love."

"Charming tale."

"I won't fight you, as I haven't. And I'll work for you. But you lied before – you changed the contract. Swear. Do I have your word that I can live normally, with my mom – that you won't break the contract and keep me here?"

He threw up his hands. “You have it. As if I am that much of a monster.”

I let out a breath.

“Now come here.”

I did not.

He took me by the wrist. “Do I have to remind—“

“I said I wouldn’t fight. You’re in no danger-”

He dragged me and threw me against the headboard. It didn’t hurt. “Kurama, I have no greater fantasy now than punching you so hard you vomit blood.”

“Hot.”

“Shut up.” His voice shook. He gripped my shoulders fiercely.

I opened my hands. He pushed me over and tried to fuck me, holding me down. It began to tear at me and after a quarter hour, I began to weep. He held my head down and did not hear. I wondered if his body was covered my blood.

The last time, I told myself. The last time. The last last time.

He came and rested, telling me to clean myself off. I was crying like a child. But I obeyed, sitting up.

He sat up on his bed to watch me and I realized it was going to be a show. Every muscle from my thigh to my calf was quaking, chilled with sweat. My knees would not hold me. Every movement sent pains inside me, so bruised and torn that I felt it drove straight into my spine.

“Carry me?” I asked him.

“You think you can order me about?”

“I was begging you.”

His arm crept, tentative as a school boy, under my legs. He held me to his chest. I wanted to cling to him, feeling a sudden affection. He could have me busy thanking him if he wanted.

He set me in the bath and put his hand into the water. I was reminded suddenly of my mother and childhood, seeing him test the temperature.

“You are right.” His voice came without expression. “I have obligations to you, contract or not. Each being should be treated with dignity, all that legalese. I know it. I get carried away. Sometimes you just want it to be simple, you know?”

“I understand,” I answered, tracing patterns in the water. “To own a person, body and soul; to be able to make them perform acts you have only imagined; to ignore the demands they make on you—it must be intoxicating.”

“Surely you’ve been in a similar situation.”

I smiled. “Once or twice. But I was older. I was not nearly as insecure as you are now. I also understood that regardless of contract, no circumstances exist alone. It is all connected. I cannot abuse someone today without a sin of it tainting me, without the pain of it hanging over them. Everything has its price.”

I lay my head against the edge of the pool, resting.

He poured water onto me with his cupped hand and rubbed it off. I could feel nothing. The fuse between my body and brain had blown, in a sad late attempt at protection.

"Are you tired?"

I was falling asleep and I told him so. “I am human after all.”

“So you are.”

“Please don’t lie to me.”

He touched my hair, peering at my tears. He was wondering if Shuichi had come out in full.

“I wish you treated those you owned with respect because you wanted to, not because…because they were pretty or infuriating or seemed useful.”

He laughed. “You’re tired. I better stay to keep you from drowning.”

“I am afraid, always." I mused, in the perfect honesty that exhaustion brings. "Everything is cruel. I hoped…something was pure.”

“There is still generosity.”

I looked up, doubting that very much.

He motioned for me to turn, and he washed my hair, untangling it with his fingers. It must have taken an hour.

It was utter apology. But that was something for him to work through. I could be a teacher for him, but never a partner. I would never be near him again. I did not accept apologies. I remembered acts.

“Prince, if you want me to cooperate as a recruit, you can't beat me. You can't rape me. That is how to intimidate an inferior. They'll give temporary, traitorous service. Someone like me, you court. Give my family protection. Give me leniency, favor me.”

Koenma gave a mirthless laugh. “You’re a handful.”

“You signed a contract with a demon. You knew what you were getting into.” I pulled myself away from him and sat on the edge of the pool. I stared at him for a moment, then asked, “Isn’t that who you want to hire? I have held up against every one of your abuses. "

Koenma was silent.

“You have position for me. Not as a fighter. You want me to help your idiot detective. To keep him alive, to ease the path before him, to see and provide for dangers he can't. You want to ensure he survives."

"There was something like that on my mind. You distracted me." He smiled. "You never know someone till you fuck them. Not really."

I sniffed, nodding. "I'll do it."

"You'll do it?"

"If you meet my terms. I'll keep him alive. I'd die for him. I'll be loyal to him."

Koenma took my hand and kissed it.

I grabbed his chin and pulled him close, speaking in his ear. “Trust me, it will be an exacting contract you sign.”

He glanced down and tried to smile. “Show mercy.”

“Too bad I can’t identify what you ask for, as I was never shown any.”


We returned to his office. I settled the fury in me, but my hands were tense, my signature a few strokes before I threw the pen back.

“I don’t suppose we could meet like that again.”

“Never.”

“Not like that…just…as lo-...as, outside this place. Perhaps in the forests in Nimur, at the falls. Anywhere.” He came from behind the desk and took my hand.

“You are kind,” I said. “When I am standing free of you, and armed. But when I was weak and in your power, you caused me…turmoil. Injury. A wise person treats everyone as though they were precious, especially the vulnerable. There is no such division of action in my mind as you imagine."

"What can I say." He held onto my hand. "You'd do the same in my place."

"Never." I leaned in to snarl at him. "Never. And I would never take your place."

He did not let me go. In his mind, he was still “clean” and I, “dirty.” He thought he was offering me something good. I did not agree.


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Thank you for reading. Please feel free to leave thoughts and criticisms in the reviews, because I read and adore them all. (Note how I tried to fix the chapter length! I can be taught!)
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Risk of Conviction