Partners by Moonlight

AN: One more chapter to go! The next series will be brief since I didn’t like taking so long with updating this. I’ve already written the ending. ^^;
On a side note, if you're ever bored, I posted an original story. I would give you cookies if someone would read it and give some feedback.

Kuronue’s senses returned to him slowly, memory still a blank. His nose itched, but when he tried to scratch it, he found his hands were bound above him. Annoying, but not a new feeling to wake up to. There were more than a few times he had gotten drunk with Kurama, then woke up bound. Slowly he opened his eyes, only to find darkness. It panicked him for a moment before he came to the conclusion that he was blindfolded.

The last thing he remembered was his father grabbing him. Wonderful. He had been so close, attained this so called power, and he couldn’t do a damn thing to stop him. What the hell was wrong with him? A deep rooted fear made him freeze. Just like he couldn’t stop his father from killing his sister, he didn’t make a move to kill his father and save his little brother.

He shivered, the cold air in whatever prison his father had thrown him into biting into his flesh. The winged demon was shirtless, but luckily wasn’t completely naked. Though his shoes had been removed, probably to keep any hidden weapons or tools from him. His toes felt along the ground, trying to tell just where he was. The ground was smooth, giving away nothing else. The happiness he felt at the dulling of his memories of his father’s home were soon fading as he tried to recall which rooms had shackles... Now that he thought about it, his father rather liked having them in most of his rooms; it would take less time figuring out which rooms didn’t have them.

“Awake now, my boy?” A low voice purred, making Kuronue shiver. He hated that voice with all his being. “I figured you would have been far from here after killing your brother.” His father’s hand lifted his chin, a wine heavy breath washing over his face. “Did you miss me that much, that you had to come running back?”

“Well gee dad, I just missed all this abuse.” He spat in the general direction of his father’s face. “Fucking bastard.” A hard smack struck his cheek, jerking his head to the side. Well, he knew that was coming at least. His father would never let something like that sit quietly.

“Still have that smart mouth, I see. I was hoping some of the locals would have broken you of that.”

The word broken hung in the air, echoing in his mind. “Broken me... I thought you would have learned by now, but I’m not that easy to break.” Through all the torture he’d been subjected to, breaking was never an option. It was the only way to exist and piss off his father, and from that, the stubbornness grew. No, pain or threat of death wouldn’t break him. The only thing that could, he left behind for the much needed strength, and a sense that if he died, at least his important person was safe. The only person he clung to all these years was his dead sister’s memory; Kurama was something new, something that made him feel stronger.

The flat of a blade caressed his neck, edging tilting ever so slightly toward the skin. Enough to part the delicate tissue, but not slice anything vital. Kuronue didn’t even wince. The blood seeped out and tickled his neck, pooling for a moment at the dip in his collar bone before running down his chest. This was only the beginning, a calmer part of him whispered. His father was excited by the site of blood, he knew the other things that would come.

“We’ll see what you can handle. After living with your kitsune, I’m sure you’ve grown a bit softer.” A tongue graze his neck and Kuronue jerked back, cursing to himself as he smacked the back of his head against the wall. “Sensitive...” Lips pressed against his ear, “I’ve missed your cries, Kuronue.” There was a cruel chuckle as his father drew back, and a faint hissing of cloth being eased from one’s body. He tensed, nails digging into his palms. This won’t bother him. It won’t break him. Even if Kurama hated him, he’d at least get one screw in, and then he would feel clean again, like the silver youko could make him.

His father cried out, and there was a loud crash, the sound of bones breaking following soon after. He heard a whimper near by him, and shaky hands holding onto the shackle. Metal clanked against metal as the key turned in the lock, releasing one of his wrists. Kuronue jerked his hand away then lifted his blindfold, eyes searching the dimly lit room for his father. The man stood in the center of what the winged demon now recognized as one of his favorite killing rooms. Drain in the center of the floor, to carry the blood away, finely meshed so bone and flesh wouldn’t clog it. Itsukai writhed, clawing at his eyes as steam hissed from his face. Kisu was busy unlocking the other wrist, small frame shaking violently. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, one wing bent unnaturally, the delicate membrane inside ripped to shreds. Kuronue bent down as his wrist was finally free, scooped his brother into his arms, then ran from the room. He had to get Kisu out and to safety, then he would return to his father. Preferably to a place that wasn’t littered with weapons and implements of torture.

A roar followed him, shaking the hallway. Kuronue grimaced and held Kisu tighter to him. Some time had passed since he had been captured by his father; his legs felt weaker, almost wobbly. He hoped they wouldn’t give out until after Kisu was out of the keep.

“He drugged you.” Kisu whispered, pressing his face against Kuronue’s chest.

“I see... Listen to me carefully, Kisu. I’m going to give you the tools I used to pick the lock on the sewer.” He turned a corner, feet slapping against the stone floor. “You put them inside, pull them apart, then turn when there’s a click. Remember that, and you’ll be fine. It might take a few times, but don’t worry. After I shove you down the drain, you need to head left, it’ll lead you out. After the grate is opened,” he took a moment to gather a few shaking breaths. Kuronue would ask about the drug after the plans had been explained. It was obvious they still gripped his body, but were slowly slipping away, as evidence of his awakening. “After the grate is open, wait until a guard passes by, then count to ten, and run. Head to the forest, and be careful of the patrolling guards there. Though by now, I’m sure father’s cries will have them hurrying inside.” Just wonderful, his father and a shitload of his guards. There was still a chance of him making it through this... but he wasn’t holding his breath. “Got it?”

“Y-yes...” Kuronue skidded to a stop once he found the showering room he had entered through. Carefully he set Kisu down, facing the door. He was wary of turning his back to it again. “What did you do to him, anyway?” Kuronue lifted the metal drain, shoving it aside.

“...I found some of the stuff Mentou played with, and threw it on him. It splashed on his eyes, and then he flailed all around...”

“Smelt like you burnt him... Nice, losing his sight is a good handicap for him. I hope it burnt his rotten eyes out.”

“Me too... Kuro, the drugs they gave you, it’ll wear off in another hour, I heard them talking about that. Come with me, you aren’t up to fighting him.” Kisu clung to his him, pressing his cheek against his forearm.

“I can’t do that, not until I know he’s dead. I’m too crafty and annoying to die, so don’t worry about me. Just be careful in the sewers, ne?”

Kisu sighed then nodded, wincing as he pulled his broken wing closer to him. “I’ll be careful.”

“Good, now go.” He gave his brother a brief smile before shoving him down the drain, quickly replacing the metal over the hole. Kuronue knew he had to leave the area, or his brother’s exit would be obvious, and they would catch him. Moving quickly out of the bathroom, he ran to the stairs, taking the windy steps down. He could feel his father’s youki from where he was, and it was on the move again. If he knew where Kuronue was, then he wouldn’t look for Kisu. Given that, he let out a bit of his youki, just subtle enough to make it seem like a slip. As if on cue, his fathers youki swirled toward him, the door a few flights above him creaking open. Higher ground would give his father the benefit, or he would have attacked at that moment.

Pushing the closest door open, he came upon a strange scene. The guards were slaughtered, laying in pieces on the ground. There wasn’t enough time to contemplate what happened to him, he felt his father growing even closer to him. Stepping over the bodies, Kuronue raised his hand and readied a blast of youki. He also palmed a small blade, hoping to blind his father, then let the throwing dagger fly toward a fatal point.

The door opened, and he shot off a large blast from his palm, the force of his attack making him stumble back. He had enough time to throw the dagger before he tried to catch himself, nails digging into the stucco. There was a sizzle and a cackle that followed. Not a good sign.

“Is that all you have? What a joke.” His father advanced on him, thrown dagger pulled from his shoulder. “Well, you managed to get one hit in.” Itsukai’s eyes were pink, the flesh around it bubbled in blisters. “You, and that little shit will pay for marking me.”

Kuronue growled and threw a punch, aiming at his father’s wounded shoulder, only to be caught easily. What the hell? Even though the old man had increased his power, it wasn’t enough. That little fact annoyed him greatly. The one useful thing he had learned and actually worked, was what he learned from Kurama. His father snapped his wrist as he blocked a kick Kuronue had aimed for his head, the winged demon howling at the injury to his wrist. Not good enough... he wasn’t good enough. This was how it would end, facing his father and snapped like the useless thing he was told he was. Itsukai shoved his son against the wall, hands around his neck as he lifted him, ignoring the kicks to his shins and other areas.

“It’s a shame I didn’t get to play with you first.” He squeezed, smiling at the way his son winced at his actions. “Now you’re going to die, and when I find your brother, I’m going to torture him like all the others. You failed to do anything worth while with your life, even your sad attempt to help your brother failed.”

Sparks flew in front of his as, hands clawing at the firm ones around his neck. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He had to calm down, and think quickly. There had to be some sort of way out. Kuronue closed his eyes, trying to summon enough clarity of mind to think of a plan.

For the second time, he heard his father howl in pain. Peeling his eyes open, he saw his father glaring at a figure to his left. “You want him back? Well too fucking bad, he’s mine, and I can break him when I want to.” Kuronue’s vision dimmed, and he had trouble seeing who his father was speaking too. His father screamed suddenly, hands almost breaking Kuronue’s neck in retaliation. He was almost out of breath when the world suddenly came crashing down, his cheek resting against the cold stone, laboriously dragging fresh air into his lungs.

“No, he’s mine.” He was dimly aware that the voice was recognizable, the words were slower to register in his mind. Looking up as he panted for breath, he saw his father’s eyes stare blindly ahead of him. It was the only thing left that was recognizable. Small vines had crawled inside then expanded, causing him to burst into pieces; he’d seen Kurama do it before. Kurama... Pushing himself to his knees, he turned his head toward Itsukai’s attacker. “So that was your father. I must say, I’m a bit disappointed. What a let down, I was expecting a real fight.” Kuronue couldn’t help but stare at him dumbly. “Are you okay?” The kitsune knelt next to his partner, fingers brushing over the fresh cut over his throat.

“I’ll live,” he whispered, voice strained from the crushing grip. Kuronue wrinkled his nose, lifting his hands to wipe off his face. “Couldn’t you have killed him in a less messy way? Being covered with blood and... whatever else I’m covered in, isn’t exactly the most pleasant thing.”

“Picky picky picky...” Kurama helped his partner to his feet, eyes searching his body for signs of injuries. “I figured you would rather his death be painful, instead of quick and less messy.”

Kuronue blinked then smirked. “You know me so well.”

“Of course I do, you’re my partner. For now, that is,” the youko scowled, giving him a dirty look. “What the hell is wrong with you?! Leaving me like that... You’re lucky I was angry enough to find you and tell you off myself.”

“Mm... Is that why you’re here? To give me a lecture in how to be a proper partner?” Some how, he was disappointed. He didn’t expect Kurama to throw his arms around his neck and profess his love, but maybe... something. Anything other than that. Turning from Kurama, headed toward the exit, rolling the wounded wrist to test if it was broken or not. The sudden loss of youki would send the guards into a frenzy, but turning against each other. Who ever was strongest, would take over. Anyone leaving, would be over looked.

Slender arms were wrapped around his shoulders from behind, chin resting against the crook in his neck. “I’ve missed you. Didn’t think that could happen in a couple of days... but I did.”

“I... missed you as well.”

“Then next time,” Kurama’s nails dug into his skin threateningly, “have more faith in me. At least tell me it’s none of my business so you can yell at me later for getting into it.” He sighed, “I’m sort of attached to you, stupid.”

“I’m sort of attached to you too.” Kuronue couldn’t help but smirk, closing his eyes for a moment. The closest he would probably come to saying how he felt, like wise for the kitsune, but it was fine with him. Actions spoke louder than words. “Come on, I need to catch up with my brother and make sure he’s okay.”

“You need a shower.”

Kuronue twitched, “that can wait.”

“Fine, just don’t stand too close to me.” Kurama let go of him then walked past, tail brushing over Kuronue’s lap teasingly. Still a flirt; some things never changed.

The hallway was filled with bodies as they slowly walked toward the exit. Kurama’s handiwork, he guessed. Itsukai’s death felt as though a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders, and he payed more attention to the details around him, no longer worrying over when his father would attack. The kitsune in front of him swayed his hips as he walked, proud or happy that Kuronue was back. A little bit of him hoped that he was happy. Even if it was just happy at getting laid once more.

The sun was nearly hidden by the trees, blinding him as he walked from the keep. Kuronue blinked hard a few times, then smiled. He never realized how beautiful this part of the forest could be when the sun made the sky bleed.

A pitiful mewl sounded close by, one that he recognized as Kisu’s. Ditching Kurama, who protested loudly, Kuronue opened his wings and attempted to glide. The wings that had worked so well his first night, ached terribly and shook with the effort to keep them open and above the mud. He probably was suffering from an adrenaline rush that night, and didn’t notice that his wings weren’t completely healed, straining them. “Kisu?”

“Kuro? Kuro! Help me, I’m stuck...” Kisu paused as Kuronue plopped in front of him. “You’re...”

“It isn’t mine, it’s father’s blood. He’s dead, finally.” The ease that those words rolled off his tongue felt good. Kuronue held out his hands for the tools that Kisu had unsuccessfully tried to unlock the gate with. His brother shyly handed them back, watching with wide eyes as Kuronue easily opened the lock, holding the grate open for his brother. Tossing one of Kisu’s arms over his shoulders, Kuronue walked slowly toward where he left Kurama. The kitsune didn’t look happy with him, but then if he really wanted to follow, he could have walked through the mud as well.

“I remember this urchin from that last time, is he the same kid?”

“Mmhmm... This is Kisu. Kisu, this is Kurama.” His brother waved meekly in response, ripped wing hanging loosely next to him.

“Ah. Sometimes it’s hard to remember all your brothers.”

“This is the only one left.” Kuronue said quietly. The only one of his family he managed to save. It wasn’t his job to take care of him, but he still felt a tiny bit responsible. Mostly toward Mentou’s death. He might have helped Kisu out once, but that didn’t make him some sort of hero. When he was feeling up to it, things would go back to normal, raiding and killing those who got in his way.

“I see... do you plan on keeping him with us?” The look on Kurama’s face was less than thrilled. Of course; Kurama didn’t have any paternal instincts, and neither did Kuronue. Keeping a small, smiling and mostly innocent boy around would cramp their style.

“No... I was thinking of asking Tamenai if he would take Kisu in. Safe home, and Yoriko could watch over him. Tamenai might toughen Kisu up a little.”

“A little? He might scare the boy... Although, they might need a new pet.” Kurama picked Kisu up carefully, noticing the way both brothers were injured.

Kuronue twitched, “he isn’t a pet.”

“Why not?” Kurama’s lips twitched, devilish grin spreading across them. “You’re mine, aren’t you?”

“If I’m a pet, then you’re a cat.”

Kurama’s tail fluffed a little at the comment, “I in no way resemble a cat. Rat with wings.”

“Rat with wings, oooh, that’s terribly original, Kurama.” They started walking toward the forest, stone paved road easier to move than the mud. “Though I suppose an old fart like you wouldn’t know any good new come back.” His brother watched the exchange with a slightly confused expression.

“Old fart indeed. You have no problem sleeping with me, must not make me much of an old fart.”

“Only when you pass out during the middle.”

“I do not!” Kurama blinked then looked away, “that one time doesn’t count. I was drunk!”

Kuronue smirked to himself, eyes wandering over his kitsune’s body. Even this he missed in the short time they’d been apart. Their arguing was merely foreplay. He wanted to get Kisu back, then recieve Kurama’s revenge. A night of romping with Kurama, how horrible. His smirk grew then he glanced down at his brother. Kisu had a small smile on his lips, eyes closed and breathing even in sleep. The winged demon yawned himself, tired despite having just woken. Maybe it was the drugs. By foot, it could take them another day or so to get to Avur. He welcomed the trip as time he could spend teasing the kitsune into a frenzy. If he was going to get pounced by the randy youko, it would be on his terms.


(AN: One more thing... I hope this didn’t seem too abrupt. It’s how I meant to set the tone, and actually sort of sets things up for the next short story after this.)