Only the Most Intense Flames can Burn a Rose

Author's Notes: Hi there. I didn't do a AN on the other chapter because I'm still not quite sure how all this works on AFF. This is my first time to post any of my writing on any sort of fanfiction site. I've roleplayed with people for years, and every time I tried to write a story, it always crashed. I was proud of how this was turning out, though, so after teeta, another writer in the Original section, said I should post it here, I cleaned it up a bit and did just that.

I appreciate the two reviews I got. You both made my day a little brighter. I love knowing that you guys liked it, and that made me want to go ahead and write another chapter. I'd love to talk to all the Karasu/Kurama fans out there. It's so hard to find them, so feel free to contact me on AIM or MSN or something. My profile has the information.

Here's the story...

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“How was you week, mother?”

It had been nearly three weeks since Kurama’s little… Rendezvous with his past victim. Other than an occasional dream, there had been no more of Karasu’s presence in his life. Maybe it had been a dream? He’d taken a psychology class before. Was his mind trying to make him believe that something happened that really didn’t? Maybe his own nails scratched his face, or perhaps it was never there at all… But it seemed like he’d imagined it somehow.

“You know, Shuuichi, nothing new. Your step-father goes to work and comes home. You brother is doing well in school, of course. Still struggling a bit in math, but he seems to have found a friend that he goes to study with, and it’s getting better. We’re proud of him. I just stay home and clean, bake… You remember how I love it.”

Kurama smiled warmly, settling into the dark wooden chair he was sitting in. He always loved talking to his mother. He loved her dearly, ever since that day in his childhood when she risked her life for him. Every time he saw those scars on her wrists, he felt that love grow out of gratitude and amazement of the bond between a parent and their son. He never had children of his own, even during his many years as Youko, so he had no idea what it felt like until that point. His kitsune mother had never really been that responsible.

“Of course. Just remember not to work yourself too hard. Don’t be afraid to rest if you feel as if you need to. We love you, and don’t want to you over exert yourself.”

“Don’t be silly, darling. I know what I can and cannot handle.” The woman on the other side of the phone line laughed softly, and Kurama imagined those small wrinkles in the woman’s face tightening because of it. He thought it just added to her, made her seem more real. “Ohh, something new did happen one day, though. I think I made a new friend.”

“Ohh really? Who is it you met?”

“It was a charming young man who came by. He said that he was looking around for a house in the area, and the garden outside was just so beautiful, he had to come in and meet whoever did it. I told him that I go to check it for weeds, but it wasn’t my green thumb, and mentioned you.” She laughed again, motherly pride shining in her tone, along with amusement. “He was so nice, and said you were quite an attractive man yourself when I brought out a picture. He even sat through my bringing up our old family album. Remember the picture from school? When you had such short hair? He thought that was just adorable.”

This was just too much of a coincidence. Anyone who had been to the Dark Tournament knew that he had a human mother thanks to his fight with Roto, and he knew the kind of person who would be able to pull something like that off with barely any acting. Karasu was always quite articulate and charming as long as the conversation didn’t stray towards anything violent. Shiori definitely wouldn’t have gone there.

“What did he look like, mother? Perhaps I could offer to give him a garden as well if he moves somewhere that has a good lawn.” His voice was clear with only a bit of curiosity. He couldn’t let him mother think that he might know this person, nor could he get her to stay away from him without it seeming suspicious. Shiori most likely would steer clear, but wonder why, nonetheless.

“He was tall, and very pale. I never did ask where he was from. His Japanese was perfect, so probably somewhere here… He had long black hair, even longer than yours, and so straight… It was gorgeous. Ohh, and pretty eyes. Some unusual color… A dark blue-ish purple-ish color, I think.”

Shit.

“I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for him.”

“You should. He especially liked your rose bushes, so I’m sure he’ll want some of those.”

“Yes, of course, Mother.” He paused, giving a soft, silent sigh. He did not want that demon around his mother. Not for anything in the world. He’d kill to protect that woman, she was the most important person in his life. “Well, I think it’s time for me to go. I need to do some finishing touches on a paper for my Literature class. I’ll be sure to call you in a few days. Be well.”

After a few more seconds of heartfelt goodbyes, Kurama set the receiver back on its cradle, running a hand through his hair, pushing his bangs out of his closing eyes. This was bad.

At least Kurama didn’t panic. He needed to think this out. He needed to make sure that he didn’t do the rash thing and barge into a place with his rhetorical guns blazing. Though it might work for Yuusuke, Kurama certainly didn’t think that he was that lucky.

How was he supposed to protect his mother from thing that even he usually couldn’t sense? Especially since he couldn’t tell Shiori that the “charming young man” was actually an insane, homicidal demon hell bent on killing her son. Hopefully she wouldn’t invite him in one day for tea and cookies. That honestly might be something that she’d do.

There was only one thing that he could do. He had to confront Karasu. He had to find him. The crow had to be somewhere in this city. Luckily enough, this city was quite fond of placing live trees in occasional places along the sidewalks. They were small, but they read energy of those who passed nonetheless. Maybe they picked up on enough to give Kurama a location.

The best place to start was the park in the middle of the city. People walked by it constantly. You almost had to to get from place to place in this city without using your own car or public transportation… Something told him that Karasu just wasn’t a bus kind of guy.

He picked up a light jacket from the coat hanger behind his front door and then stopped, mind reeling. Was this a trap? If Karasu had found his mother, he had no reason to actually make contact with her and not tell her anything about him or the demon world. The only possible motives would have been to A) taunt him, and this was too passive a taunt to be from Karasu; B) kill her, and if that were the case, his mother would certainly not have told him about her visit on the phone; and C) lure Kurama to him.

Sounded like a trap.

If not… He wasn’t quite sure what he’d do. He placed the jacket right back where he got it from and then placed his hand on the wall behind it, as if he needed the support. “Inari…” He murmured, turning his eyes skyward. “Don’t let anything happen to her.”

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All of the work that his college classes gave him to so was so easy. Though it took time for him to write all that he needed to in order to finish his assignments, it wasn’t even an annoyance. It was time consuming, but the task itself didn’t bother him. He understood why they gave them so much work. Though he learned quickly, he knew that very few people were as equally blessed.

He’d left his most recent class, that also happened to be his last for the day, and had returned to the apartment that educationally earned grants had paid for. He had scholarships to pay for his school and grants to cover his living expenses and more. He knew how write to convince the organizations to give him what he needed to make his human life as easy as possible to keep up the busy student appearance.

However, as soon as he stepped into the hallway of the floor that he loved on, he knew that something wasn’t right. Occasionally he’d small the scent of something burning, but not of gunpowder. It was a distinctive smell that he’d only been around while his illustrious stalker was using his abilities, and even if he was close enough at other times. Though Kurama smelled of roses and herbs, Karasu smelled of gunpowder and danger, if the slight musk the male had could be described as danger. That’s what he’d already assigned to the smell.

He didn’t sense anything, but he’d long since given up on that when it came to Karasu. He seemed so much better now than he did when they fought in the Dark Tournament, so it wasn’t a surprised that he was also better at hiding himself. Kurama had long since mastered that ability, and his human façade had allowed him to improve hiding emotions as well.

He once again pulled a rose from his hair, as if it would help him like it did last time, and then headed for his door. He paused in front of it for only a moment, and waiting for him behind it was…

Nothing.

Not a crazed crow, not some readied bomb, nothing.

Confused, Kurama stepped in and closed the door behind him, gently dropping his school bag on the floor by the door and he went about examining his home. Still, there was no one waiting for him. No one hiding in a shady corner, no one hiding in a closet… Odd.

Letting it go for now, though he was still utterly curious to what Karasu had done, he went back to his door, picking up his bag again and taking it to where he usually put it. He set it against his writing desk and then saw what was left for him.

Gingerly, he reached down to his desk with his free hand, and when it lifted again, his slim fingers wrapped around a crudely made gold chain. It was old, at least a thousand years old by the looks of it. However, he knew exactly how old it was. He knew exactly what it was.

His other hand dropped the bag again, this time carelessly. He brought it to the pendant weighing the chain down. It was a large purple stone, a rare shade for a diamond- and found only in the Makai. Despite its rustic appearance, the Glace du Soleil really was beautiful. And that beauty is what attracted him to it nearly a thousand years before, when his own demon stole it from a young, naïve baron who’d recently acquired his family’s fortune. It was one of his first heists, and this necklace was one of the things that he missed the most.

There was no note with it, nothing to say who it was from. He knew the reason for the gunpowder smell now, though. Karasu had come by. He came by just to leave him a present. It was thoughtful, gorgeous, and completely unnerving. There were few people that he had told about the importance of this necklace, so Karasu had some powerful contacts who shared information, willingly or not, or he was one lucky bastard. Either way, it wasn’t something that Kurama felt very comfortable about.

As much as he would like to spite the man, he just couldn’t bring himself to dispose of the pendant. He breathed a soft sigh and set it back down on the table. From there, he walked away. He left the apartment and returned within thirty minutes. He had a small section of silk, to which he artfully wrapped the necklace in, and then set it in a small box he had as well, and then set that in a drawer with other small trinkets and tasteful jewelry. Then, he made him a small something to eat and went to work on his school assignments.