Kitsune Tears
by Guardian
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Hello all! *huge, ecstatic
waves* standard disclaimers apply - blah blah blah, you guys know the drill. Some of my Japanese is a little rusty so bear with me if I get it wrong, and correct me if I've made any mistakes with it. Um... well, I guess that's about it from me. |
Part One: The Master
"Oniisan..." a tiny hand reached out and grasped his shoulder, pushing against him. He groaned and tried to shrug the hand away – not yet, Leina, let me sleep, just a little longer – yet the soft, breathy voice was insistent, the warm lips so close to his ear as to tickle the tufts of fur and cause it to flicker. "Oniisan... please, wake up. They are coming..."
They were – what? He gruffed, tugging at his arm to free it from where lay tangled somewhere behind him so he could slap his kid sister away. She was always bothering him – always waking him up to Hunt for the little ones. Didn’t she know that he wasn’t old enough to be a touchan? He was getting tired of her taking in all those damned little – He tugged harder at his arm and grimaced as a shock of pain constricted at his wrist, sending minutes aches and jagged bolts of lightning to his shoulder. Why wasn’t it coming free? Was he – chained?!
"K’so!" He cursed, bolting upright and jerking back simultaneously, falling against the figure behind him as he snarled, lashing out and growling. She gave a soft, broken cry and fell, one slim arm flying up to protect her as she flinched away from him.
"Oniisan! It’s me! Oniisan!"
Abruptly the snarl died in his throat; pale, silver eyes widened at the sight of the shadows laid out before them; the soft, fluttering voice whimpering behind him, trembling with the tears that she struggled to bite back. "Leina..." he turned to her, the fierceness gone from his gaze as he reached out to touch her – gently. "Leina, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to – daijoubou?"
"Daijoubou." The soft voice whispered, her face still hidden by the slim turn of her arm. He helped her to sit up; slowly the tips of two ice-violet ears appeared above the bared arm, followed then by short, ruffled hair of the same color and two very large, very frightened eyes, once silver, the other gold. She took his assistance and sat up, leaning heavily against him, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face in his shoulder to muffle the faint, hiccuping sobs that still came, unbidden, to her lips. He shifted as best he could and held her back, his left hand moving up to caress the short, unruly hair at the nape of her neck. Unconsciously he tugged at his right arm again – only to grimace, hissing in pain. His eyes slid back to glare at the iron shackle and chain keeping him immobile, tied to the wall like a dog on a leash... "Oniisan..." Leina whimpered again, curling closer, her left leg sliding up to settle across his thighs. "My ankle... it hurts."
He grunted, shifting her weight to the side to free his left hand. Carefully he reached down to brush the tips of his fingers against the tender flesh of her left ankle where it lay crossing his knee. The soft, golden brown had turned a harsh, flaming dark red, rubbed raw by the iron shackle slipping down to chafe the skin lower on her foot. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, concentrating, gathering his you-ki... He could not Heal it completely – his training had never passed the primary stages, and was hopeless against such an old, repetitious wound – yet he did his best and was rewarded in the next moment when his sister lifted one tiny hand to clutch at his shirt. She pulled herself up a little, her breath warm against his temple as she licked his cheek. "Arigato." She whispered feebly, a faint trace of a smile teasing around her lips as she settled against him once more, her last words barely heard as her strength dwindled to non-existent. "They are coming now."
He nuzzled her cheek, breathing in a few of the short, fine violet locks of her hair as he held her up. "Leina. Don’t go now. Tell me – why are they coming? Leina . . ."
She hummed the fragments of a long-forgotten tune, a miniscule smile touching her lips for the second time. "They are coming – for you... he will come,too, Oniisan. He will help us... I just know he will..."
"Who?" He shook her, trying to be careful, yet panicking as he heard heavy footsteps approaching from the shadows. She was drifting farther and farther away, but he had to know – "Leina, who? Tell me, sister. Who will help us? Who must I find?"
The tune continued on – breaking from one moment to silence, the next to sound, so very quietly. "Our... ‘niisan..."
He frowned darkly at her words, just as her consciousness slipped from his grasp. He bowed his shoulder and – as gently as he could – let her slide to the floor beside him, just as the footsteps halted. His silver eyes narrowed and lifted, focusing on the shadows, which had coalesced to form a huge, bulky youkai standing behind long strips of sparkling teargems dangling from the ceiling. The youkai lifted a hand, brushed the slim curtain aside and advanced; that same hand lowered with an almost delicate precision to wrap itself within the cloth of his collar and lift him bodily from the ground. He strangled, clutching at the creature’s wrist as another, smaller youkai scrambled in behind it to unhook the chain connecting his arm to the wall. Shrill, teetering laughter met the sensitive flicker of his ears, causing him to grimace, even as the voice behind it took glee from his discomfort.
"Our Master wishes a word with you..."
"Hiei, why don’t you come down?" Kurama smiled up at him with his usual, magnificent charm, his shoulders back, his hands set leisurely within his pockets. That emerald gaze was lifted to behold him – the Forbidden Child – where he sat on the branch of a tree, his arms crossed over his chest, his dark, blood-red eyes narrowed upon the horizon...
Gradually, as the moments passed, Kurama’s smile faded, to be replaced by mild discomfiture. The typical Hiei-like response would have been an irritable grunt, a displacement of air, and then the half-koorime would be standing in front of him, all five feet of him stiff with dignity and cold self-possession. He would have come over to join the others at their picnic with feigned indifference and stand to the side, refusing to eat, yet watching the others as they did so – as he had always done before. But this time there was no grunt, nor displacement of air. In fact, Hiei didn’t even seem to have heard him...
"Hiei, are you listening to me?"
The shadow that represented Hiei snapped; flaming red eyes met calm, tolerant green, narrowing in what could have been anger. "Nani?" He barked harshly, the tip of his fang showing as he snarled.
Kurama lifted his chin, all traces of a smile gone, replaced by serious levity. "What’s wrong?"
"Hn." Hiei looked away once more, the anger diminishing, presumably gone to the same shadows that had stolen the fox’s smile. "None of your concern."
Sighing, Kurama reached out a hand and caressed the trunk of the tree rooted next to his hip; abruptly a shadow vaguely resembling his old friend tumbled down to land with a heavy thud at his feet. Nipping back upon another smile he crouched, setting his elbows on his knees, resting his chin on his crossed arms and watching the cursing fire-demon with laughing eyes that hid behind short, velvety locks of flaming red hair. "Come now." He tilted his head to the side. "What’s wrong, Hiei?"
"Kisama!" Hiei snarled and lifted his fist, intent on knocking that obnoxious smile off of the stupid kitsune’s face... yet hesitated, stiffly lowering his arm. His dark gaze flittered to the group laughing and enjoying themselves, set back a ways, barely seen over Kurama’s shoulder; that pensive gaze flickered to Kurama before moving out to take in the invisible horizon once more. His voice came forth heavy and slow as he grunted. "...take care of Yukina."
Kurama’s eyes widened. "Nani? Hiei, what –"
The fire demon snarled and caught the collar of Kurama’s shirt, yanking him closer, the tips of their noses almost touching as he bared his teeth in anger. "Just do it!"
Kurama gasped and fell forward, off-balanced and unable to catch himself in time. Yet when he hit the palms of his hands landed not on warm, clothed flesh, but soft grass and sand... for Hiei was already gone.
His shoulder landed hard, cracking and dislocating against the marble surface as he skidded the last few feet. He panted, coughing a little and spitting up blood as the huge claw of the youkai descended from some unclear area above to grasp his shirt and lift him once more.
"Come now, little kitsune." A deep, melodious voice purred, coming closer a brief moment before the blood at his temple was licked away. "It’s so much more fun if you actually put up a fight. I know you can. I’ve seen you protect that worthless sister of yours enough times." The voice laughed in his ear; he flinched away from it, his sight swimming in variant shades of grey and black. "Ah, well. Enough beating around the bone, as they say. Guhra, put him down."
He screamed as he was slammed against the marble floor again, the numbing agony of pain ripping clean from his shoulder to his chest, to the very tips of his toes and the very last lock of fur in his wounded tail. The huge youkai stepped away; he was then left to wallow in pain alone, all alone, lying in the middle a marble sea, to be watched, teased, taunted, fawned over by shadows dancing at the perimeter of his sight...
"That’s much better. Now, let’s get down to business, shall we?" He tried to turn to the voice – tried to face his aggressor – yet his sight faded and fell away to inky blackness; he shook his head to clear it and cried out as minute flashes of light flickered behind his closed eyelids. "There is something I want, and something I am determined to have. Are you listening, little kitsune? You better be, because you’re the one who is going to get it for me. Do you understand?"
He bared his teeth in a grimace, a thin trail of blood dripping from his lips to the floor as he bit back upon the whimper locked within his throat. The familiar sting and warmth of tears pierced his eyes, yet he held this back as well by the shear force of his will. He would not let them see weakness . . . he would not let them see him cry...
"Good. I’ll take that as a yes. Now, I know you’ve seen my beautiful wards – I’m sure your cell is one of the few graced to have them. Oh, thank you by the way for letting me use you beautiful – ah – fur – for the threadings. You simply have no idea how enchanting that pale green is, set off by your sister’s purple. Why, they positively make those koorime teargems I’ve gathered shine. So very enchanting. And useful as well." A slim, cold hand descended to pet the back of his head, ruffling his short, disordered hair. "Guhra did a very pathetic job at cutting your hair, though. It’s a shame, really, having to see what the product of my servant’s work has done to that mane of yours. It was beautiful – typical Youko beauty, but still far more beautiful than any other Youko I have found up to date. You and your sister were rare catches for us. With that pearl-like tone to your hair – the way it teases the light and shimmers almost silver at times... positively marvelous. Ah, but I digress. Back to the matter at hand.
"You see, little kitsune," a shadow paced at the corner of his vision, yet he no longer had the strength to even lift his head. His right eye was swollen shut and coated in blood, while his left lay staring at the fuzzy, misshapen movements of the figure now pacing around his prone form as the voice continued on in its almost lazy purr. "I would like to have more of those wards up, for the rest of my dutiful little slaves to see. They must know how gracious I am to give them that one last taste of beauty before their deaths." Soft, purring laughter. "I would also like to complete the curtain-ward that lies about my nest, and to do so, I am afraid I need more. More beautiful fur like your own – which, I can thankfully say – is not too hard to come by. I have a new shipment of Youko slaves coming in this morning, and I’m sure there must be some in there that will do, although I dearly wish there was some way I could make your hair grow faster so that I could use more of you own..." the shadow pacing about his form sighed before continuing on. "The teargems, now... those will be a trifle hard to find. My dear little koorime passed away not so long ago, although I can not for the life of me figure out why. No bother, though. That’s why I have you, little kitsune. You see, you are going to find me another koorime, so that I can have my teargems. Oh, yes, I know – they are dreadfully hard to find, but you will. I’m sure you’ll find a perfect koorime to cry for me – or else your dear baby sister will lose her innocence and – well, let’s just say, quite a few other things. My servants have all kept their eyes upon her – she’s such a tasty-looking morsel, ne?" The voice sighed again, the purr returning once more. "That isn’t all, though, I fear. Not only will you have to get me a koorime, but also another – a legend in these parts, I’ve been told.
"You see, word has reached me that there is a creature living somewhere about that is a half-breed. They say he is a half-fire-demon, as well as a half-koorime, and that his tears are not the normal pale blue gems of the koorime, but black as the shadows I am sure you are trying to crawl within at this very moment. Strange, isn’t it? To think that such a creature could have gone by my notice for so long... it’s a shame, really. I had to kill quite a number of demons to find out that little tidbit. Ne, but I digress again. Here is your – mission, shall we say? – little kitsune. You will go out and find this half-demon, where-ever he may be, and you will bring him back to me. Alive, and in health. You will also bring me another koorime, since I have no intentions of sending Guhra out to find one. The last time he brought back one that was already dead and quite a waste. Oh, and by the way. If you decide to get heroic – or cowardly, whichever the case may be – and either try to run or fight against my forces, I’ll give your baby sister to my patrols and my servants. I can’t guarantee there will be much left of her when they are done... but, hey. I can’t promise everything. Are you even listening?"
The cold hand buried itself in his hair and lifted his head from the floor; he groaned, coughing up more blood. "Ah, good. I was afraid you had died. Would have been a shame if you had. Such beautiful hair." The cold hand released his head – pain ricocheted down his spine as his temple once again met the marble floor. Cool fingers lowered to brush almost tenderly across his cheek. "And such beautiful flesh..." The voice sighed. "Ah, well. Perhaps when you return, he’ll let me have a little fun with you. We’ll see. You have one week to bring the koorime and the half-breed back here. Guhra – take him to a Healer. I want him well and on his way by tomorrow." He was yanked from the ground and hoisted in the air as the voice laughed, the sound causing his tufted ears to lay hard at flat-back against his skull. "Oh, and little kitsune! Perhaps this will help you in your search: the one you’re searching for – the half-breed? – they say his name is Hiei."
Hiei flittered from one shadow to another, his eyes narrowing to pierce each one before he landed, before he leapt, before he even thought of moving. Long ago the warmth of the day had faded into night, yet he had not stopped, and would not. Not until the one shadow that moved just clear of his sight became known to him.
He had felt that shadow trailing him all day, had felt eyes upon his back endlessly as the hours drew long. No matter how fast he moved, no matter how quickly he leapt from building to building or shattered the barrier of time and space, the shadow was never shaken from his tail. He would have used the jagan to See his pursuer... yet the shadow was always so close. Too close to use such a powerful thing as the jagan and the Sight. He growled, low and long and deep in his chest at the thought of himself being Hunted like a common beast...
One last time he leapt, yet changed his projected course and landed hard to the side, his small feet skidding against the gravel, throwing up dust and stones as he stilled. He let out a heavy roar, his katana materializing within his palm as he faced... an empty street. "Come out!" He bellowed thickly, "I know you’re there! Come out and fight, coward!"
"I am not a coward."
Hiei whirled, bringing his katana around the slice the air at his back – yet it found no hold in flesh nor bone. The voice had spoken in his ear – he had felt the breath of his opponent at the nape of his neck – yet there was no one close enough to have done so. He snarled a curse and brought the katana back up at ready, crimson eyes narrowing upon the being that stood still half-hidden by shadows three paces before him.
It appeared to be a normal human at first – a young boy barely fourteen, if even that – dressed in thin, flowing garments that seemed vaguely familiar. His head was bowed as if in acquiescence, his hands were clasped gently at his back. The thrumming alto voice came again, soothing his ears, even as he stiffened in wary caution. "It would be for the best if you just come with me. I do not wish to harm you."
Hiei grunted, shifting his stance, relieving not an inch.
The figure sighed. "Well, if you insist upon being difficult..." His head bowed farther as he closed his eyes; the shadows were teased by the flicker of a pair of pale fox-like ears nearly hidden within the short, unruly halo of his hair. "Gomen nasai..." One slim hand lifted to touch something at the boy’s throat, while the other moved out as if to beckon to him. He had only one moment to witness the strange, abnormal sparkle of a string of teargems wrapped around the boy’s forearm before the shadows beneath his feet reared up in defiant fury, and swallowed him whole.
Part Two: The Koorime Maiden