Adult-FanFiction.org : YuYu Hakusho

Second Try
By : kle10
Category: Yuyu Hakusho > Yaoi - Male/Male
Views: 5939 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own YYH.
Chapter List
- 1-Love is Love
- 2-Missing
- 3-Past
- 4-Gift
- 5-Obsession
- 6-Journey
- 7-Night
- 8-Destiny
- 9-Memory
- 10-Intrusion
- 11-Omen
- 12-Threat
- 13-Concession
- 14-Heedless
- 15-Damaged
- 16-Artifice
- 17-Encounter
- 18-Consideration
- 19-Revelation
- 20-Boundaries
- 21-Schism
- 22-Visitant
- 23-Fraught
- 24-Epilogue: Third Try
- 21
- 22
- 23
Disclaimer: I don’t own Yuu Yuu Hakusho, or any of its characters. Those belong to Yoshihiro Togashi-sama, who made a lot more out of them than I ever could have. ^^;; I just do fanfiction for fun, and earn no monetary rewards for writing it. Reviews are, of course, worth as much as silver.
Freshly-updated-and-better-fitting summary: Obsession has followed Kurama home from the Dark Tournament. Unaware of the looming threat, Hiei reneges on his partnership with the fox and disappears from Tokyo. Yukina leaves in search of her brother.
Classic summary: In the morning I see you against the dawn. You are stubborn, unyielding, firm. You are the other half of my restless soul. You are... Gone.
Title: Second Try

Chapter Twenty-Two: Visitant

Word Count: 7,443
[Total Word Count: 155,982]
Anime: Yuu Yuu Hakusho

Pairing: KarasuxKurama

Warning: Suspense, violence, language, self-destructive thoughts, depression, BL
Author: Kita Kitsune

Date: Monday, October 27, 2014
Miscellaneous Notes: Slightly discouraged from the lack of reviews, along with time constraints getting in the way, and this chapter fought me a little bit. That doesn’t usually happen, but the second half feels much more organic and fun, to me. Oh, well. I’ll just keep trying to get these chapters out! Hopefully this story is still enjoyable, even if I’ve lost a few people… I’m really doing my best to keep at it!
I swear we’re getting close to the end, guys, but I still am not able to tell you how close, because I honestly don’t know. Please be patient with me, as it’s been literally ten years since I last finished a fic (a fic that wasn’t a one-shot, anyway)! :3
: : : : : : :
            Karasu didn’t find Kurama at the Dome, that day; nor the next. It was bothersome, how before he could pinpoint the youko so easily, and now – with Kurama no doubt taking extra care to hide his energy – he couldn’t. Karasu didn’t approach Yuusuke again, just bided his time. Every day, around the time Karasu knew Kurama’s school let out, he would arrange to be outside the Dome for a few hours. He wouldn’t put it past Kurama to sneak in the back way, however, and so Karasu resigned himself to making himself almost painfully aware of those around him. Just a flicker of Kurama’s ki in the nearby vicinity would be enough. Karasu knew Kurama’s ki as well as his own.
            Karasu had waited, before. He could wait again, certainly, but for some reason the time seemed to pass so excruciatingly slow, these days. He would do his duties, arrange for drug exchanges, help the underbelly of Ningenkai crime keep on its merry way, but…
            It was all so purposeless. Surely Kurama’s silence of the past two weeks must mean a rather firm ‘no’, but for lack of a hard answer, Karasu found an infuriating part of him still clung to something wretchedly like hope. The darkness beckoned, whispered to him to return to his old ways, but this was impossible. Humanity and weakness had softened him – Karasu had had centuries to build up his power and cunning, and now only one of those remained to him. Had this been what Youko had felt like, those first few years suffering existence as a human child?
Karasu had heard stories of the Master Thief and his gang of bandits sometime around when he was working for the assassin’s guild; of ghosts in white that would flow into a castle or stronghold like mist, and take with them everything of value. Karasu had returned to his family’s abandoned estate, centuries later, and discovered it predictably ransacked. He had walked the halls in absent memory; there was nothing of value to this place, to him, anymore. The servants had long departed, once Karasu’s father had died and he himself had left the mansion to the mercy of brigands and bandits.
It had been a long time since Karasu had been so involuntarily alone. For many years there had been Bui, but Karasu did not know what his longtime companion had done with himself after the Tournament. Were he stronger, Karasu would have perhaps sought out Bui. They had had a strange relationship, it was true, and Karasu did not fear reprisal from Bui for his weakness. It was only… they had been equals in power, for so long, it rankled Karasu to think of Bui seeing him reduced to this. It was also a morbidly humoring thought that Bui was likely the type to have given him a grave, out of sheer honorable nonsense. But such had been the nature of their relationship, from the start. Bui had witnessed him ‘keep’ hundreds, possibly thousands of lovers over the centuries. Which led Karasu to another question.
Why did he no longer feel the urge to do so, with Kurama?
: : :
            It had been some time since the meeting at Genkai’s temple. If he were to look back, Kurama would have to say it had been just a little over three weeks. Yuusuke had suddenly decided to start dropping by his school in the past week, and suggested they go out and do something. Kurama had given him an appraising look, but Yuusuke waved it off by saying he just didn’t want Kurama to start distancing himself, again. Conceding, but still dubious of Yuusuke’s motives, Kurama allowed it.
            Kuwabara tagged along, and they went to the video arcade. Kurama surprised them both by beating them in the game Goblin City. A child nearby exclaims on his skills, and challenges him to a match. Kurama acquiesces, and the boy is good. Kurama lets him win, making Yuusuke and Kuwabara protest loudly at the unfairness of it all. The boy pulls back from the controls and gives Kurama an assessing look, before announcing that he threw the game. Kurama smiles slightly, and nods, agreeing to a rematch. They play a game in Goblin City called Three-Seven, and Kurama beats him, although it is close.
            They shake hands afterwards, and part ways as friendly rivals. The child gives his name as Game Master, grinning confidently all the while and suggesting another rematch on a different game. Kurama agrees to this with silent amusement, and on the way home is wrangled into giving Yuusuke and Kuwabara a few hints on how to get past a certain level in Goblin City that they keep dying on.
            The next day, Yuusuke brings Keiko and Kuwabara brings a girl as they go to the movies. It’s a horror film, which is humorous enough in itself, as they’ve all seen worse in real life.
            The day after that is the park, and Keiko and Shizuru join them for a picnic. Seeing Shizuru reminds him of Kani – of Karasu, and Kurama invites her for a stroll through a copse of trees after their meal as the others go off to play a game of Frisbee, yelling loud and generally enjoying themselves.
            She answers his question before he can ask it; that’s a psychic for you.
            “I don’t remember much from that night, honestly.” Shizuru admits, tapping the end of her cigarette as she sounds thoughtful.
            “I see.” Catching his tone, she glances over at him, and silently observes him, for a moment.
            “So it was that guy from the Tournament, hunh?” Kurama looks up at her questioningly, and she smiles a little. “I was trying to remember where I’d felt that aura, before. I was surprised you didn’t sense his murderous intent, though.” Kurama stiffens. He’d left Shiori alone in the hall with – “He didn’t act on it, obviously.” Shizuru interrupted his train of thought, and Kurama was suddenly aware that she was watching him with that detached, measuring stare of hers.
            “He warded me.” Kurama admitted softly, pride galled at having been so vulnerable before a sworn foe. Shizuru smiled ironically.
            “Of course he did. And me, he tried to kill. I’d say he wanted an open shot at you pretty bad.”
            “He hadn’t intended to kill you.” Both of Shizuru’s brows rose, at that, and Kurama himself was surprised at his words.
“Oh no? Do tell.” Kurama smiled a little, to cover his unease.
“Karasu told me he hadn’t intended to kill you. The dose you received was just enough to incapacitate you, but not bring about your death. ” Shizuru took a moment to process this. Kurama found himself continuing. “He also called Mother and myself into the room, when you collapsed.” She nodded, then took a slow drag of her cigarette.
“Still sounds to me like he was pretty set on acting the part.” Her honeyed eyes met his, sharp and perceptive. “And it sounds like he did a pretty good job. You’re defending him, Kurama.” Bile gathered in his throat, as he swallowed, nodding. He’d been aware of this, as unsettling as it was.
“I suppose I am, yes.” Kurama intoned softly. Shizuru watched him for another moment, before shaking her head.
“I guess it doesn’t matter. Botan told me Reikai can’t bring him in unless he commits a Reikai crime, right?”
“Correct.” Shizuru shrugged, turning to head back to the picnic site.
“Maybe just let him stew in human existence, for a while. Now that he’s lost his goal, I’m sure he’ll be heading back home pretty soon.”
“His power is not what it was, in the Tournament.” Kurama added, before he could help it. Shizuru gazed back at him from over her shoulder, quizzically. Kurama smiled; again, covering unease.
“It’s not?” Trapped into responding, now, Kurama continued to explain.
“No. He doesn’t have the means to defend himself from stronger demons, in Makai. To return there would be suicide.” Shizuru nodded, at that.
“I guess it would serve him right, then.” Kurama’s mouth twisted in an aborted, unfamiliar expression before he smoothed it out, exhaling an agreement.
“Yes.”
: : :
~Three Weeks Ago~
            The partying died down around midnight, when the last of the revelers passed out drunk in the main room where they’d had their meeting. Kurama helped Genkai-shihan and Yukina cover their friends with blankets, and when everyone was as comfortable as they could be (on the floor), Yukina politely excused herself. They watched as she padded quietly over to the side of the room where Hiei sat outside, on the porch. She opened the shoji quietly, closing it again behind her. Kurama heard a soft rustle of fabric as she undoubtedly settled to a seat beside the stoic Jaganshi.
The chill of autumn wouldn’t bother either of them.
            “So he finally told her.” Genkai offered after a moment of silence, her rough voice quiet.
            “From what I gather, she found out herself.” Genkai made a soft sound of approval, to that.
            “Good. That trip did some good.” She moved, striding out of his peripheral vision, and Kurama remained staring at the shoji through which Yukina had disappeared, lost in thought. A softly barked command startled him out of his reverie. “Well, come on, I don’t have all night.” He turned, blinking in surprise at Genkai’s flatly irritated look at him.
            “Genkai-shihan?” She scowled at him.
            “I don’t have time for this, Kurama. You have something you need to talk about, right? Well, get your ass in here.” She grumbled, pushing open the door to a smaller, more private room. A bit bemused, but now curious, Kurama followed her in. Genkai dropped to a seat, cross-legged, on an available flat cushion. Kurama followed suit, respectfully kneeling in seiza. She stared at him impatiently, and Kurama smiled a little.
            “It’s really nothing.” He began, but Genkai waved him off.
            “I heard from the idiot that Karasu came back.” Kurama paused, letting her speak. Her eyes narrowed at him. “He pretended to be a human, gained your trust, and placed wards on you. Is that about the size of it?” Kurama nodded. Genkai frowned at him.
            “Why didn’t he try to kill you?” Kurama’s smile turned a tad self-depreciating.
            “Perhaps he did, and merely failed?” Genkai glared at him.
            “Don’t be obtuse, it’s not your style. Really, Kurama. Why would he have waited so long? Yuusuke told me you’d been dating him a few months. In all that time, why wouldn’t he strike?” Kurama had a calm answer, for this.
            “He wasn’t strong enough.” Genkai leaned back, watching him.
            “I don’t buy that.” She said, flatly. “If he was strong enough to ward you against his presence and leech your ki, he was strong enough to make wards to subjugate you completely. Why didn’t he?” Kurama felt a frown pulling at his expression, as Genkai watched him steadily. “He could have killed you easily, if he’d really wanted to, Kurama. Your guard was down. He could have suppressed your youki and stabbed you through the heart with a knife covered in wards designed specifically to do you in. If Karasu was smart enough to dig up the process for those two other wards, he could have done the same with more lethal ones.”
Kurama stared at her. Smart as he was, he hadn’t thought of that possibility.
            “Then why didn’t he?” Genkai stared back, evenly.
            “There’s more to this than meets the eye. Surely you’re familiar with that sentiment.” Kurama dropped his gaze to the floor, mind churning under this new revelation. Then, he recalled something.
            “Karasu kills the things he loves.” He whispered, softly. Genkai snorted.
            “Well, he certainly tried to kill you in the Tournament.” Kurama nodded absently, rifling through his memories.
            “But he hasn’t, since he returned.” Genkai huffed a laugh.
            “Maybe you’re special.” She bit out, sounding amused. Kurama looked up at her, green eyes a little wide.
            “What?” A wry smirk lifted one side of her mouth.
            “Maybe since you killed him, he can’t let you go. If his philosophy is to kill the things he loves, and he fails to do that…” Kurama stared at her, appalled.
            “So he thinks I returned the sentiment, because I killed him?” Genkai grinned at him.
            “Seems you have a morbid admirer, fox.” Kurama looked at her, exasperated.
            “But I don’t!” Genkai watched him with amusement.
            “Probably not how he sees it. Can you think of another reason he wouldn’t try to kill you, again?” Kurama frowned at her, mind casting about for one.
            “He had probably planned to.” He settled on, at last, but Genkai cast him a dry look.
            “Plans change. I know you’ve been around for a long time, Kurama, but you’re still new to Ningenkai. So is he. Did you check out his story – his family, does it exist?” Kurama nodded, at that.
            “Yes. I looked them up, and visited their home.” At Genkai’s droll look, he smiled a little. “Just the outside, of course. Further proof is his driver. I recognized the limousine parked outside as the same one he’s had, multiple times before.” Genkai watched him, sharply.
            “He was there? He didn’t sense you?” Kurama shook his head.
            “I took great care to hide my ki signature when I visited. He didn’t notice me, but I saw him. Everyone reacted around him like they knew him, and Karasu’s never shown any propensity for mind control spells.” Genkai nodded.
            “So, it seems he was telling the truth about that.” There was a beat of silence, where Genkai watched Kurama neutrally. “What are you going to do about it?” Kurama sighed.
            “He’s a threat. He lied – ”
            “Because you are a paragon of honesty, yourself.” Genkai interrupted. Kurama frowned at her, but bit back a retort out of respect. She glared at him. “Look, I don’t care what you do, Kurama.” She ground out, her voice grating as always. “But it seems to me this warrants more discussion. His behavior reflects procrastination – it seems after you two were ‘dating’, he didn’t really want to end it. Say it’s a lack of resolve, or simple weakness, or just changing his mind. I think you grew on him, Kurama. If he kills everyone he loves, as you’ve said, he probably hasn’t had someone hang around for long enough to get to know them. In fact, he’s probably never experienced that. Add in the additional mitigating factor of adjusting to human life, and I think Karasu got a whole lot more than he initially bargained for, when he possessed that boy with the intent of finding you.”
Genkai stated this all evenly, and Kurama only listened attentively, eyes on the floor.
            She sighed, when he didn’t say anything, and rose to her feet.
            “Love is different for everyone. You’re older than me; I thought you’d know this. But I guess living a full human life does have its advantages.” Her tone was wry, and he looked up at her, but she had already turned her back on him. “There’s something inconsistent with his motives, Kurama.” She didn’t look back at him, but her voice was oddly gentle; almost sad. “Some humans become demonic; some demons become human. Maybe he liked having you around too much to go through with it. Either way, it’s worth looking into.”
            Kurama stared at her, surprise bare and unmasked in his face, and she nodded her head, heading towards the door without looking back at him. He caught himself, then, and hastily bowed towards her retreating form, belatedly remembering rumors of what she and Toguro Otouto had been, fifty years ago.
What they’d been, before Toguro had killed her in cold blood in front of her only successor.
            “Thank you.” He murmured softly, as her light footsteps faded away down the hall.
: : :
~Present Time~
            It was the end of the week, now, and Yuusuke had suggested going off to the less-savory part of town, to pick a few fights. Kurama had raised his eyebrows at him, and asked if that was really something Kurama would want his mother to hear about. Yuusuke had huffed, and grimaced when Kurama suggested going back to Yuusuke’s house, to help him with his homework. It wasn’t the first time he had offered, and certainly wouldn’t be the last, but it was unexpected when Yuusuke shot him a serious look and accepted, for once. It was quite out-of-character for him, to be honest, and Kurama kept silent on the way over. When they arrived, he let his eyes wander over the messy living room on the way to Yuusuke’s room. Atsuko wasn’t at home, it seemed. Yuusuke flopped to lie back on his bed, socked feet on the floor and knees bent naturally over the edge of the mattress, waving a hand.
            “You can sit anywhere.” Kurama chose the chair by the desk, and waited. Yuusuke broke the silence, when it stretched too long for him.
            “Aren’t you going to ask me to get out my homework?” Kurama smiled a little, out of habit.
            “No. Because I’m fairly certain you just wanted to get me alone. Now, what is it?” He asked, patiently. Yuusuke was frowning when he sat up, slouching, and he watched Kurama for a moment, elbows propped on his knees.
            “Karasu came by after school, last week.” Kurama’s brows rose, to this.
“Karasu?” Approaching Yuusuke? His eyes narrowed. Surely he’d lost his mind if he aimed to pick a fight –
“Yeah.” Yuusuke kept watching him, expression oddly quiet. “He wanted to talk. Asked me about you, and shit.” Kurama offered a more encouraging smile, to that.
“Did he? And what did you tell him?” Yuusuke offered him a crooked grin.
“C’mon, you trust me, don’t you?” Kurama raised an eyebrow at him.
“Only so far.” Kurama offered, graciously, and Yuusuke chuckled, shaking his head.
“Anyway. Gave him a tip you liked to meditate at the Yumenoshima Tropical Greenhouse Dome.” Kurama blinked. Yuusuke smirked at him. “First place that popped into my head, here in the city, that you might like.” Kurama gave him a flat look, and Yuusuke’s smirk widened into a grin. “Was I wrong?” Kurama just sighed, not dignifying that with an answer.
“Why did you tell him that?” Kurama had to ask. Yuusuke shrugged.
“Seemed like the thing to do. I think he wants to talk to you.” Kurama blinked over at him.
“What?” It’d been three weeks! Surely Karasu could take a ‘no’ for what it was, yes? Yuusuke was eying him, dubiously.
“Yeah.” Yuusuke agreed, but his eyes didn’t waver. “So why haven’t you gone over and left a ‘No, thanks’ in his mailbox, or something? I’m sure you’ve figured out where he lives, by now.” Kurama resisted the urge to jerk in surprise, staring at his friend. Sometimes Yuusuke could be remarkably insightful. It was very inconvenient when he was, and Kurama smiled easily over at him again.
“He’s obsessive.” Yuusuke frowned at him.
“He was obsessive. You haven’t heard from him since we got back to Tokyo, have you?” Kurama hesitated, but that seemed to be all the answer Yuusuke needed. Yuusuke scoffed. “I didn’t think so. C’mon, you could at least let him know you’re not interested. Unless you’ve been putting off doing it because you still haven’t decided?” Kurama’s eyes dropped to the floor as he looked away. Yuusuke made a sound of frustration. “Damn, Kurama. You do the same thing in fights. Wait, and wait, and observe. Only this time you hope it’ll just go away, right? Well it won’t.” A hand grabbed him on the arm, just above the elbow, and Kurama looked up, startled, to see Yuusuke suddenly right in front of him, serious brown eyes level with his own.
“Yuusuke?”
“Make up your damn mind, Kurama.” Yuusuke shot in an undertone, accusing and impatient. “Either decide you can forgive him for what he did, or give him the finger and never look back. But you gotta decide because I kind of feel sorry for the guy, despite what he did to you, back in the Tournament.” And then Yuusuke just looked sad, smiling down at him. “Hiei tried to kill me, too, remember? At first? And look what good buddies we are, now. That would’ve never happened without Koenma’s intervention. And – you looked… really happy with him, Kurama.” Yuusuke admitted, and Kurama just stared at him. “No, you did! And you’re my buddy, our team’s smart-ass strategist fox – it’s your call. If you decide never to give him the time of day, again, I’ll stand by it and blow him away if he comes anywhere near you or your mom.” Yuusuke grinned at him, light and sure. “But he’s given you some space, hasn’t he? He knows where you live and hasn’t dropped by unexpectedly, right? Probably thinks you’d see it as a threat. That’s worth at least giving him a straight answer, right?”
Kurama listened, and let this sink in, for a moment. Then he sighed, tilting his head so his bangs fell across his eyes and lifting his other hand to pry Yuusuke’s off his arm.
“You don’t know the half of it, Yuusuke. At the Tournament – ”
“He creeped you out, I get it.” Yuusuke said lowly, squeezing Kurama’s arm and ducking to meet his eyes, earnest. “He threatened and shot those hooded looks at you at the same time, and even Youko’s plant couldn’t beat him. He scared you.” Kurama jerked, but Yuusuke held his arm firm, voice turning raw and starting to waver. “We all saw that match. And we all thought we were really going to fucking lose another teammate. But he can’t do that to you, now. You’ve got the upper hand, this time. So what’s it gonna be, Kurama? Are you done plotting your master plan for an ironic win, yet?” Yuusuke’s voice had turned joking; an attempt to lighten the mood.
“Because time’s running out, and you’ve gotta get up before the ten count ends.”
: : :
~One Week Later~

            Kurama was avoiding him. Karasu felt fully the fool for allowing himself to follow Urameshi’s advice, in the first place. Even if the fox had been a frequent visitor at the Dome, Karasu had every reason to believe Kurama would hide his ki from him. And without Kurama, Karasu’s human existence grated on him. Karasu reached for his anger, for the emotional fuel that had kept him sharp and deadly for all those centuries in Makai, but it wouldn’t come.
            He’d never had anything to be angry about, anyway. Existence had always been a game for him, and that game had ended on the final day of the Dark Tournament. His obsession with Kurama – only a trifle, initially, when he knew he would have to kill the fox eventually – had kept his soul from moving on, afterwards. Karasu had possessed a human, and built up this elaborate structure of lies to work from. For the entirety of this new life, the driving force keeping him alive had been the eventual possession and destruction of Kurama. Only by facilitating the fox’s death could Karasu’s soul regain its equilibrium.
            And now, all that work had been torn to shreds. Vindictively, Karasu blamed Hiei and his insufferable Jagan, but the Jaganshi was out of his reach, and besides, Karasu wouldn’t stand a chance against him in his weakened state. What was the use of staying in Ningenkai, any longer? Allow his youkai soul to be further degraded by the tameness of human life? Wait, for his youki to regenerate completely so he could once again be a threat and take what he wanted?
            Turning himself into Reikai was out of the question, as Karasu abhorred the idea of sitting and rotting in a jail cell until his judgment day. Besides, apparently he had done nothing warranting his arrest. Oh, surely he had committed numerous Ningenkai crimes, but those were out of Reikai’s jurisdiction. He wondered, not for the first time, if Kurama’s merger with his human body had set some interesting precedents. For, certainly, Kurama had committed no Ningenkai crimes, lest his dear mother find out. The files Sakyou had given them to peruse on Team Urameshi had outlined each member’s backstory.
            Kurama was Youko Kurama, which was later confirmed by his regression during the match with Ura Urashima. Karasu had studied his past – left alone by Reikai for years and years while he regained his ki, and only when Kurama joined with Hiei and Gouki to steal the Three Artifacts did Reikai step in. Interesting. For all those years, Kurama had been free to do as he pleased. Surely Reikai must have noticed his building youki, and if not – well, then they were just that incompetent. For if Kurama had not been tamed by humanity, if he had had a family much like Urameshi’s (that was in Sakyou’s files, too), it was very likely he would have slipped back into Makai as soon as he was able, and wreaked more of his infamous havoc.
            Karasu had a faint idea of how Reikai worked – bureaucrats and endless paperwork, their efforts futile and useless and the workers always busy. But since he had not been approached, it led him to believe he hadn’t done anything worthy of an arrest. Kurama’s actions with Hiei and Gouki had been forgiven due to his agreement to work with Koenma’s Reikai Tantei. He had not been pulled from his human life and thrown into a jail cell. Reikai clearly believed he had been reformed, and acted accordingly. Karasu had been an assassin, yes, but that was in Makai, while he had been a full-fleged demon, and Reikai law did not rule Demon World. So long as he behaved himself here in Ningenkai, Spirit World would have no reason to seek him out and apprehend him.
            Listlessly, long, pale fingers brushed a bit of dust from the book that lay open in his lap. Karasu was reclined in a chair in the library as these thoughts had taken him, eyes hooded and dark in thought as he peered out at the dead of night beyond one of the tall windows that ran along this side of the library. His current situation was amply luxurious, and it reminded him vaguely of his childhood. He had everything humans strived for; wealth, security, power, charm. The only part missing was a purpose. Karasu ran one of his nails over the back of his hand, absently pensive. He turned it over and clenched that hand, watching with disinterest as blood seeped from half-moon indentations in the palm.
            Human bodies were so fragile. Without a purpose, why should he suffer it? Why should he suffer this existence, at all? He had not the patience to sit and wait for his youki to return in full. It had taken six months alone to gather enough to poorly defend himself from Toguro Ani, and his stores had been fully depleted afterwards. Not to mention, his youki not only harmed Ani, but himself. That was a hiccup Karasu did not want to deal with. He could no longer make use of the explosive material from the air by internalizing it, either. His human body couldn’t handle it. Luckily, his youki had seeped out through his pores, so his hands were not in as bad a condition as his arms had been, after the blast. Before the detonation, his youki was harmless and could escape from his body painlessly, but once he willed it to explode, the explosion was just as dangerous to him as anyone else.
            Humanity had crippled the youkai within him; in more ways than the obvious, physical limitations. His play-acting as the human Kanisawa had gone too far, and Karasu had done far too good a job of it. Like it or not, the very human desire of greedily, selfishly clinging to what he most wanted had eased its way into his mind, taking root like so very many of Kurama’s plants. Of course, Karasu had been selfish, before. It was a trait that defined him. The little fox kits he had rescued would have gotten sick and died, just like Ichio. It was only a matter of time, as they were common Makai animals limited in their capability to grow. Karasu had not wanted them to live and one day leave him, and had instead selfishly decided to keep their lives like a charm in his heart, safe and unsullied. It had been the same with his mother, and the countless string of lovers that followed. All of them had been meaningless flings, candles snuffed out just when they burned at their brightest and most passionate. Karasu had kept them all. He had reveled in his depravity, soaked in their blood, bathed in the betrayal in their eyes as he killed them, keeping them for his own, their memory forever frozen in that perfect moment of death.
            And Kurama, he had allowed himself to dwell upon. Tournament rules did not forbid killing the ‘guests’ in their beds at the hotel, but Toguro Otouto’s honor had. He had known Team Urameshi would make it to the finals, and told them all – especially Karasu and Toguro Ani – that there would be no killing them outside their matches. Karasu acutely remembered watching Kurama’s matches, and finding himself more and more captivated by that fierce, fragile spirit and the wild mane of red hair. Green eyes, in a moment merciless and in another compassionate were the perfect enigma for Karasu to sink his claws into. But he had restrained himself, only threatening, only cajoling, only playing with the fox outside the arena. Karasu had resigned himself to the end of a very enjoyable game when the fox died by his hands, in the ring.
            And it had all gone as planned. Up until the very end, Karasu had been in control of the fight. He had generously shared his reasoning, even, intimately murderous in the heat of battle and his eyes glittered red with unmasked desire as Kurama fought so hard to stay alive, even when he was clearly outmatched. After his most personal, beloved bombs had ripped into the fox and made him fall, Karasu knew it was over. Kurama was down, the count had started, and Karasu intended to finish it before the announcer reached ten.
            But Kurama had surprised him. That insignificant wound in Karasu’s chest had been a calculated failure, and the vampire plant had robbed him of victory just as it did his blood. Karasu’s exsanguination had not taken ten seconds, and in the hazy moments afterwards while he hovered as a ghost, he awaited Kurama’s soul to join him, ready to seize it in revenge. But Kurama had stood; alive, even if he had lost their match. And everything in Karasu’s soul had coalesced into the urge to own that fox. So he escaped, in that moment. Already in the Ningenkai, his soul sped for Tokyo – also in Sakyou’s files – and he had found the perfect host, at the perfect point in time in that ceremony.
            Kurama was the only reason Karasu was still alive, and Karasu had failed to obtain him. Kurama would never allow Karasu near him, again, he would never see those green eyes alight with the same joy upon registering his presence, he would never reach out a hand and be met halfway, he would never kiss Kurama and feel the surge of satisfaction when the fox kissed him back.
            Karasu couldn’t even kill Kurama, anymore, and he would never have the chance again, now that the fox was wise to who he really was. A terrible ache exploded in his chest and Karasu hissed, throwing the book across the room with a loud clatter, eyes glowing red and nails dripping with poison.
            He would not live this. He would not give the humans the satisfaction of taming him. His own youki was an anathema to this human body he inhabited. It would take so little to destroy it from the inside; to detonate and allow his soul to be released. One of the servants scuttled in; an elderly maid, eyes wide with worry, graying hair pulled back into a strict bun. She stopped short, concerned inquiry dying on her lips as she caught sight of the fearful mask that was Karasu’s face.
            “Leave me.” He hissed at her, black strands mussed into his face enough to be disturbing, red eyes glittering and one palm smeared with blood.
She turned and fled.
Karasu straightened, gazing down apathetically at where the book had landed.
I will not abide this, without Kurama.
On the table beside the chair he had been reading in, the candle flickered violently as though beset by a sudden wind.
There is no purpose in continuing this façade.
The flame sputtered and died.
: : :
~The Next Day~
            Kurama knew he should follow Yuusuke’s advice, and come to a decision.
            But there were tests coming up in school, and he had a standing among his classmates to maintain, and the greenhouse plants required weeding and tending to, and –
            You’re avoiding something. They chastised him when he appeared, and Kurama was driven out. It left him wandering around after school, wondering about Genkai’s words. It had been a full month since the demons who had resided at her temple – along with Hiei – had returned to Makai. Kurama had heard naught from them, but he hadn’t really expected that. Yuusuke, too, had weighed in with his opinion, and perhaps it was a ‘bad habit’ of his, but…
            Was it really all right, that he missed Karasu’s company so?
            Not that it was Karasu he missed… No, never that. The psychotic crow demon who had stalked and harassed him during the Tournament? The same youkai who had tried to kill him in the ring, with all those disturbing promises of ‘keeping’ Kurama playing unveiled through his words? Why would Kurama ever miss that?
            And yet.
            … And yet.
            The Veritas Flower had given Kurama a glimpse of something else. A line of reasoning, a philosophy, however twisted.
Those months with Kanisawa had been an entirely fabricated lie, of course. Something to keep his trust, to keep Kurama from suspecting. But still, he was forced to remember with a smile Karasu reading up on horticulture in that Makai tome. Of Karasu, pretending to be a shy human teenager with a crush. Of Karasu, bullshitting his way straight through Kurama’s defenses. Of Karasu, coming in close and playing a perfect gentleman with Shiori when he was really anything but, in private.
Kurama sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he walked. What was more worrying than the lies – which, really, he could probably learn to forgive, as the reasoning for self-preservation was something that spoke to him on quite the personal level…
What was more worrying than the fact he was already trying to work a way around to forgiving Karasu was, well… that it was Karasu. Kurama shouldn’t feel as though he owed him anything. There was nothing tying him, emotionally, to that conniving youkai other than a few months’ worth of dalliances. None of those fake moments could mean enough for Kurama to court insanity and actually consider approaching Karasu, again.
So then what did mean enough?
Because, as galled as he was to admit it, Kurama was considering it.
Yes, Karasu had lied. Yes, Karasu had had a point when he called Kurama out on his lies.
Karasu hadn’t tried to kill him, again. Not in this new life of his.
Why?
It had been the driving force in Karasu’s life, from what Kurama had gathered of his past. Karasu killed what he loved. Again and again and again. Karasu ‘kept’ things he thought were beautiful. More to the point, why did Kurama care? Why was he allowing his curiosity to subjugate his better judgment?
The buzz of the communicator in his pocket was a welcome distraction from these thoughts, and Kurama opened it to see Botan’s haggard face.
“Kurama! Thank goodness! There’s a dark spiritual disturbance at the outskirts of the city. I can’t reach Yuusuke or Kuwabara, can you head there to check it out?” Kurama smiled at her, glad for the case.
“Of course. Give me the coordinates.”
: : :
            Karasu didn’t know how he’d gotten through the day. Perhaps he had wanted to wait until it was dark – the sun was setting, now, and it was a perfect backdrop to his final night wearing this human shell. He had his driver drop him off on the outskirts of the city; territory just dangerous enough that no one would notice a dead body in an alleyway for maybe a week. He strode unconcernedly through gangs’ territories; a shadow against the walls, just outside of the light, and they let him pass through with barely a glance. It was good to know his youkai soul could still instill fear in the hearts of mere humans.
            The alleyway he found was dark and abandoned with a rusted chain-link fence against the wall at the end of it, the buildings on either side decrepit and void of life. An implosion wouldn’t cause nearly as much damage as an explosion, anyway, and Karasu valued going as unnoticed as possible. He turned, glancing up at the sky and the light pollution leaking into it from Tokyo.
            But there was only darkness.
            Karasu frowned, and brought his gaze back down. He blinked when the alley before him was nothing but darkness, as well. The flickering light of the streetlamp he had passed while entering was completely gone. He glanced behind him, and the wall with its protective fence was lost in the utter dark, as well. His eyes narrowed as a chilled breeze rustled past him, blowing his hair into his face. There was a whisper of words, he thought, and he tilted his head to try and catch them.
            “’niisan… ‘niisan, yame…”
            “Hello?” He stated, sharply, to the void of blackness around him. Fear didn’t clench at his heart; only wariness. The breeze blew back at him, fiercer and angrier.
            “You killed us!” Out of the darkness, a patch of white appeared, and Karasu squinted his eyes, trying to focus. It looked like a girl in a white dress. As she drew closer, steps oddly stiff and ungraceful, her black eyes burned at him from her pale face. Long, ragged pigtails like slices of ink brushed against her arms as she moved, and Karasu was gradually aware of the temperature in the alley sinking unnaturally colder. Her fingers were curled into painful-looking positions reminiscent of claws, and she was barefoot. Karasu remained calm and composed as he watched her approach, the fury almost a tangible force in her eyes.
            “I killed him?” The girl’s mouth moved soundlessly, but she never looked away from him. The words echoed, out of sync with her lips.
            “’niisan.” Slowly, one of her deathly-pale hands rose, reaching for him. “You killed us.” Eyes like smoldering coals, dark and fiery and deadly, locked up on him as her small hand wrapped around his throat. “You killed us!” Karasu watched dispassionately, not moving only because her dark presence pressed in on him. Still, he showed no fear, only smirked slightly down at her pallid face.
            “I believe you are mistaken, little girl. I have killed no one.” She hissed at him, eyes wide and wild with fury as her other hand pressed her fingernails into his face, mouth dark and breath fetid.
            “I gave… your regards… to Reikai.” Her mouth curled in a disturbing semblance of a smile. Up close, she smelled of rotting flesh and vengeance. “Now I take ‘niisan back.” Karasu was pinned by the manifestation of her fury, made so much more potent in death than in life. The words triggered something, and his eyes slowly widened in recognition.
            That night, of the occult ceremony… There had been a girl. She had rushed at him, before the possession was complete, and he had killed her while still wrangling for control of the body. There had been a moment of vicious intimacy when he had impaled her through the chest with that staff.
Karasu closed his eyes. He had forgotten about her, but it seems she had never forgotten him.
            Well, he had come here to die, anyway. Why not give the little ghost her revenge?
: : :
            Kurama sensed a spark of unbridled anger off to the east. He adjusted his direction towards it, noticing how fewer and fewer people were around. Those he did see, were hurrying in the direction opposite the negative energy. His green eyes narrowed. An onryou? Grudge spirits did not often appear; they were more common in past times when women had no power in life to defend themselves, and so avenged themselves in death. In Makai they were not so common, but in Ningenkai he remembered passing through, centuries ago, and they had been almost everywhere – to varying degrees, of course.
            Botan hadn’t known what had caused the disturbance, but now Kurama had a good idea. Onryou had to be dealt with carefully, as their anger made them extremely powerful. The best course of action would be to appease them, but too often this ended in failure. If the spirit could be so easily appeased as to forgive a wrong done in life, they wouldn’t have become an onryou in the first place. But beneath the smothering youki of the vengeful ghost, there was a glimmer of something else. Something living, although its specific signature was lost in the mist of the onryou’s rage.
            Had the onryou found its target, already? If that was the case, Kurama’s time was limited. Onryou were tricky beings to deal with, as their ki was neither reiki nor youki, but meiki. For humans, power came from their life energy, coupled with a natural affinity for the supernatural and a strong will. For demons, power came from years slowly building it, along with a talent for fighting and luck in staying alive long enough to grow powerful. Not quite human, not quite demon, meiki (or ‘the energy of the underworld’) was driven by the power of the bearer’s emotions. Meikai had once been the world where demons went to after death, but an ancient war against the Reikai had destroyed it. Still, there appeared entities who would have gone to Meikai in death, but were made to fit elsewhere in Reikai since that world no longer existed.
            This onyrou felt powerful enough to rival someone with youki like himself, Kurama realized grimly. He had never fought a foe with meiki, before, and was wary. It wasn’t that he was completely unfamiliar with meiki – kitsune were creatures of Meikai, after all. Early on in history, some humans who had died clung to life, and were reincarnated as kitsune. These kitsune developed powers which allowed them to ‘trick’ humans into thinking they were human; a bid from the kitsune’s formerly human soul, to regain what it had lost. Over time the reiki from the human soul became corrupted into meiki. It did not develop into youki, because most kitsune were only tricksters, and did not intentionally harm humans. Eventually the line would split, and from the meiki-wielding kitsune illusionists would come the more malignant, offensive youki-wielding youko. Kurama had made the choice to become a youko, but that had been only after kitsune had developed far enough for some to be able to make such a choice. Early on, Kurama had embraced the process of developing youki (the plants of Makai had helped, in that), but the core of his life energy (never reiki) would always be meiki.
            Every youko still had a Hoshi-no-Tama, after all, even if it had not physically manifested in centuries. All youko started as kitsune, although not all kitsune became youko. Thus, all youko had an alternate source of power in their oft-unused meiki. Kurama had not called upon his Hoshi-no-Tama as long as he had taken youko form. Beyond a vague memory of playing with his own ball beside his siblings’, he might as well have not had one. But Kurama did not know if he could call upon enough emotion to make his own meiki powerful enough to rival the onryou’s anger-fueled meiki.
            Regardless, as a Reikai Tantei, he still had to try and rescue the poor human in its clutches.
~To Be Continued~
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Second Try	By : kle10 Category: Yuyu Hakusho > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 5939 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
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Second Try