All's Well
Mutilated
*
“This is Hiei. He’ll be guarding the convoy.” Koenma nodded. “Take a minute to get acquainted, and by that I mean get going. It’s already late.”
He tapped the great beast’s leg, nodded to the captain, and vanished back into his own dimension.
The captain looked down. “You’re kidding me. I’ve clipped toenails bigger than you.”
The childlike demon stared, red eyed. He was like a poison rainforest frogs. All eyes and alarm. Then the demon grinned like a mad man, all white teeth. He lifted his sword. “I’ll do the clipping on this trip.”
The man eyed the blade. “Sure. Great. Well, come on.”
*
Later, after the sun rose high, Kurama had been tripped, shoved, elbowed, and thrown off the path. He had been held, grabbed, and spat on.
That was alright.
Healing was an easy distraction, and he began to lag at the back of the line, where he could mend the lacerations of the wires. He also fed and patched the broken path they made of the forest plants as they passed.
They stopped at the stream around noon. The edge was frozen. They were nearing the border.
Kurama walked to the center of the group. “Wolf, can I help?”
The bruised mad man looked up, then shot behind him in an instant.
Kurama swallowed, stepping to the side.
Wolf giggled. He reached forward and scratched Kurama under the chin, hard enough to rip flesh. “Remember the banks of the Muddy River down in Koriffix? Remember the screaming? I remember. You’re a bad man, Yoko.”
“Down boy.” Zel moved between them. She put a seed into Kurama’s hand as he caught his breath, grabbing his wrist and crunching his fingers shut.
Kurama’s eyes darted up and down. “Grow it?”
“Apples.”
Kurama nodded.
She squeezed, hard, looking into his eyes. His ring finger broke. He whimpered but did not move, and Zel went away.
His shoulders quaked. The finger throbbed. His nails had cut into his palm, and hers had cut into his hand.
Kurama let the blood wash the seed, and he stumbled to the side, dropping it in the dirt. Kneeling, he leaned on his good fist and with the broken hand he pulled soil over the seed. He willed the seed to root, slowly pushing out a white tendril. If Kurama cried as he leaned over the seed, no one saw. And he smiled to see the stem twisting up – he laughed to see the first leaf stretching out. He wiped his face on his arm and sat back, enjoying the bark scales forming on the trunk, first like a snake's and then like a dragon, thorny and thick.
The tree grew. The apples were fresh and red.
They ate.
Zel came to him as he curled at the side. She put a sandwich of freshly killed, wire charred meat in his healing hand.
Kurama said a prayer for forgiveness and ate slowly. He needed the protein.
The last crust, Shun-jun kicked out of his hand. “Time to run.”
Kurama picked up his pack, cradling his hand, and started to stand.
Cerene struck him hard, out of nowhere, with the blunt edge of the blade.
“Whoa,” Shun-jun blocked her, throwing her into Zel’s arms. “Wait your turn.”
Cerene threw Zel off, staring.
Kurama, on the ground, shoved himself behind Shun-jun’s legs, wanting any cover he could.
Cerene grabbed her head, groaning as though she were going mad. Then she jabbed her hand out at Kurama, seething. “He’s gathering seeds.”
Shun-jun turned. He grabbed the pack from Kurama’s hands.
He searched it and pulled out one shining, perfectly shaped acorn.
“It…habit…” Kurama whispered.
“Soldiers. Give us a minute.”
They moved away.
Kurama sat up.
Shun-jun held his forehead. Then he grabbed Kurama’s hair. Kicking his legs apart, he reached down between the fox’s legs and grabbed his groin. “Do you want to keep this?”
“It was an accident…” Kurama pushed his wrist, but could not move him.
“Oh, pet. No one gathers weapons by accident.” Shun-jun massaged him.
Kurama scrambled back onto his hands and knees, away. “G-get off!”
Shun-jun let go. “Be a good boy now. This will come up in the performance review.”
He held up the acorn.
“I’m sorry – “ Kurama breathed.
Shun-jun snapped his fingers, crushing it.
Kurama felt the small life extinguished, microscopic as a star.
“That easy, pet.” Shun-jun growled. “Now stand.”
*
“What does the map say?” Hiei heard the captain calling out. Hiei moved, in a flash of sight, to the top of the wagon where he could see out into the distance, then confirmed with the Jagan.
He leapt down and appeared beside the captain. “Go left.”
“By the Kingdoms!” The man barked, jumping.
“There’s bandits on the right.” Hiei said. “I feel lazy. Also, left is shorter. I have someone to meet when this is over.”
“Uh…” The captain looked up at the mounted scout. “What do you think?”
The woman said, “Well – I don’t know about the bandits, but yeah, the left route is shorter.”
The captain nodded. “Then we go the demon’s way.”
Hiei nodded and, in another second, was back in the wagon with the treasure, shutting his eyes to snore.
*
There was nothing to speak about at the end of the day, despite the communal draw of the fire. The team sat on extra logs they’d torn up, part of an enormous store of felled tree trunks stacked at the entrance of the cave. No one looked at each other, but it was too early to sleep, so they whittled and ate and oiled their weapons. Kurama sat as far from them as he could without freezing.
He was occupied with his own plans, which grew increasingly narrow. They had caught him twice now reaching for seeds and beaten him badly. They were quicker than he thought, and stronger. Kurama wanted to laugh, thinking of his bravado in the yard with Hiei.
It was also growing too cold. He was hungry and shivering. His clothing was pathetic; he’d already put on his one spare set of clothing, the winter gear needed to survive the snow storms they had hiked into on the other side of the fertile plains. Here there was nothing green; there had been nothing for millennia. It was very near Hiei’s birthplace, the land of ice. Foxes were not meant to survive here and humans even less.
Outside their cave, the world was white, the storm blinding.
Kurama sighed.
Captain Shun-jun glanced around and called out to him, waving his hand.
Kurama met his eyes briefly.
Shun-jun patted his knee and motioned for Kurama to come sit on his lap. “Here fox.” He whistled.
Kurama clasped his gloved fingers together and stared into them.
“Yoko!”
“Yes?” Kurama picked at a thread coming from the instep sole of his left foot. Perhaps it would be good to invest in a new pair, rather than let the prince provide worn down gear for him when he lacked it. He could feel the chill sweat of his feet and the snow leaking in.
“Come near the fire and warm up,” Shun-jun’s sneer felt grimy, even from a distance.
“No. Thank you. I’m warm here.”
“Say sir.”
“Excuse me. I’m a civilian. I’m not aware of protocol.”
Shun-jun stood.
Kurama mimicked his motion instinctively, through he froze. He longed to run, but his gut lurched in warning against the storm’s ice, the harsh rocks outside, and the contract that bound him in place as surely as any wires.
“Yoko. You couldn’t leave this cave even if we let you. Nor can a ‘civilian’ fight a full team. So follow orders. It’s in your best interests to humor us while the storm lasts.” He smiled.
The team did not bother to cover their laughter and agreement.
Kurama rubbed his hands together and looked out at the snow. It was like staring into cotton.
He remembered a similar storm a century before, when he was curling in a friend’s lap, taking the form of a cougar and riddling with her, while the rest of the gang played pipes and danced around them, drinking and fighting to pass time. He could feel her fingers stroking his ears until he was near hung with arousal and hiding it completely. Yomi had come over then and grabbed Kurama by the scruff of the neck, wanting the yoko to take the form of laurels for a few minutes so that he could crown the dance’s winner. The sweet madness of the old days.
Kurama wondered how he came to be so alone.
He had tried to plan everything right. Practical, intelligent, conservative - and bold, as strategy should be. And they were all dead. All those he adored, all those who adored him.
The hard day had made cracks in his heart. The sadness that always filled his chest was seeping in.
He licked his lips, sighing, breath shaping a prayer.
Shun-jun motioned to Zel, who turned the power on her wires. Her hand flashed.
Kurama felt a wire close on his wrist and immediately walked to Shun-jun before she put electricity through to force him.
Treat it as an experiment, he thought. A game. Judge the man.
Placing his hands on the boy’s shoulders, Shun-jun turned Kurama gently to face the tall blaze of the bonfire. “Good fire, eh? Warms you to your souls. Heh.”
Harker, on the left, tossed another log into the glowing stack, sending up a cloud of sparks as thick as the snow outside. Kurama flinched away at the shower, the only one in the circle with skin sensitive enough to feel the sting of the sparks.
“Like that?” Shun-jun slung his arm around the youth, pointing towards the fire. “Look at that heat. How hard it must be on human skin! Imagine - that water coiling and bursting inside the cells, toasting into angry red boils. WAUGH-“ he bellowed and shoved forward, throwing Kurama’s weight towards the flames, then caught him back with his arm, laughing at the boy’s instinctive shriek. “Don’t worry now! I’ve got you. And we love you here…” he stroked Kurama’s cheek and licked him. “We don’t want anything to happen to you. Do you?”
Kurama's eyes marked the man's face with horror, and he urged, “Shun-jun. I’m part of your team. You’re supposed to protect me.”
“Feel warmer?”
Kurama breathed. “Shun-jun. Sir – “
“Because you’re giving me such a cold look,” he swung Kurama’s body back and forth playfully. “It’s so cold that I wonder if you’re close enough to the fire.”
“Shun-jun, enough! I’m your charge now; I’m in your care.”
“I am – what?”
“Stop this.”
“You can stop this anytime you want.” He shook Kurama sharply, jarring his neck. “Are you close enough or do you need to lay down in it?”
“I’m close enough! I’m close enough,” Kurama repeated, holding his hands up to shield his face. His skin screamed at the heat. The fire popped, scattering sparks onto his left knee. He jerked his leg up, stumbling for new footing, held up in the man’s grasp.
Shun-jun was impossibly strong. There was no correlation to his size or nature. His power was simply blinding; Kurama could not see its end.
“You’re feeling…what?”
“It's enough. I'm close enough.” Kurama covered his eyes against the dry heat.
Shun-jun grabbed his throat, dipping his nose deep in the boy’s hair. “That’s not what I asked. Are you warm? Say it.”
“Yes. Yes, I’m warm.”
“Mm. Good.” He rubbed his erection over Kurama’s ass, making the boy’s knees go out for an instant. He strained against Shun-jun's hands but couldn't move. “How warm?”
Kurama let his words have a defiance his tone could not. “Warm enough, Shun-jun. Let go. You’d rape me to amuse your team?”
Zel shifted. “What a sweetheart.”
“Real nice tongue he’s got, Shun-jun,” Wolf chuckled from the far side of the fire, where he was scratching his neck furiously.
Kurama continued speaking, trying to make them uncomfortable at the honesty of it, though Shun-jun's hand closed on his throat. “What you are threatening is as unwise as it is ridiculous.”
“As you pointed out, you’re only a civilian.” Shun-jun growled. “You’re expendable.”
“I want to see,” Zel said. “If you can make him like it.”
“That’s fair,” Cerene added, beside her.
Kurama choked. “N-nothing could excuse such a thing.”
“Shut up and answer me.” Shun-jun leaned. Kurama was forced to step uncomfortably close to the fire. The intense heat sunk through his coat zippers and against his thighs, but it struck the thin skin of his face like a physical blow. He was silent and bore it for a moment, but the heat grew, multiplied, as did his panic.
“Please,” Kurama begged, digging in with his feet and grabbing backwards. “Please, you don’t realize – this body is weak – “
“How are you feeling?”
Kurama whimpered, “I’m burning – “
“Then answer. Tell me how hot you’re feeling – ”
“This isn’t a game!” He struggled, but the man held him in an uncompromising vice and as Shuichi’s skin began to dry, nerves pained in response. Kurama whimpered, “I’m hot.”
“How hot?”
“Please – I …very. A lot.”
“Are you sweating?”
Kurama only turned back to fix Shun-jun with an eye, his face slick, pinked and flush from the flames, obviously sweating.
“Dripping hot?”
Kurama’s lips trembled as he hesitated, but he said it and repeated it as he was prompted to. “Yes. I’m dripping hot. Please, it hurts -”
“Are you so hot it hurts you?”
Kurama snarled, “Yes.”
“What do you want from me, dear heart?”
Kurama shook his head, pushing and wrestling in tame earnest, “Shun-jun, if you ever felt pity for me – “
“You want my help with that hot, sweaty, dripping flesh of yours?”
“Inari - !”
“Answer me.”
Kurama whispered. But it could not be heard and he could not bear to repeat it. So he nodded.
“That’s consent!”
Cerene and Wolf cheered.
The SDF officer kept a loose hold on Kurama’s neck, hissing, “Don’t you dare fight me,” and told him to undress.
Kurama's eye locked into his. Shun-jun pulled him back. He allowed Kurama to turn from the heat.
The icy darkness a heaven against his face. Kurama sighed – ignoring the man's grip on his spine, and his hands as they skated over the Kurama's body, mute to thought or instruction. He dropped Kurama’s coats, jackets, outer wool trousers and boots and socks, then his pull-overs, until his chest was bare. Shun-jun paused to smile at his bare skin.
Kurama crossed his arms over himself. He stood in a set of human undergarments designed for winter excursions, skiing or backpacking, slightly loose and very thin black polyblend that was cinched in at the ankles and waist with elastic. He felt that he looked stupid, ridiculously ill equipped to be there, ludicrously weak and small.
“Well done, fox.”
Loosing the layers so close to the heat had been a blessing at first, but now Kurama’s sweat dried with a cool chill. He began to shiver.
Shun-jun went back and sat down.
Kurama looked away, flattening his hands against his prickling skin and rubbing. The fire blew fierce warmth over his back. It had been a bluff then. A gag. Scare the new boy, make him scream. That was harmless, a harmless game. He wondered how long he would have to stand there before they’d let him dress.
He knelt to pick up a sock.
Shun-jun whistled and clicked his tongue. When he caught Kurama’s eye he patted his leg. “Come here.”
Kurama ignored him. Then, he felt a rush of air.
Hands closed on his wrists. His weight was thrown; there was a strange, indefinable blank feeling that suddenly recognized as horrible, hellish fire. Kurama took a breath to scream but there was no oxygen and his lungs burned; then he was back upright and Shun-jun – whose eyes had been the only thing he saw – was smoothing down the red hair to smother the sparks.
“Next time, I’ll drop you in.”
Kurama’s arms were drawn in, hands around his face more like a child than a boxer, in pure reflexive terror.
“So, come here!”
"No, please – "
"Don't contradict me. Come here."
Kurama came, quaking.
The man put one hand on the rounded shoulders; the other rubbed Kurama’s belly. Slowly, he drew Kurama’s eyes up, and when they stared at each other, his slid his fingers down into his trousers.
The pliant body jolted beneath his touch and Kurama folded over, twisting one leg up to block his hand. He cried out, “Stop. This is impermissible. I’m your employee. I – "
“This is not the first time we’ve heard that,” Cerene crooned.
“Yes. But- from your own team?” Kurama insisted. “I have the same status as each one of you, on this mission.” They laughed, and he amended, “For this one mission. For this one mission, you were ordered to treat me as an equal. You’re disobeying direct instruction from Prince Koenma.”
“Really?” Shun-jun shoved the boy off his leg and followed him down, pinning him on his back with a painful thud. “Because I thought our fox came over to join us in front of the fire, then started telling us all how unbearably hot he was, stripped down and came over and sat in my lap. Hot little thing.”
Kurama felt the laughter around him as tangible as fingers.
“It’s a scandal,” Shun-jun purred, grandstanding. “But these things happen when you work with animals. They can’t control their horny little hearts.”
Kurama’s breath came hard, but he shoved himself up on his elbows and tried to pull back. “They’ll believe me. Surely you’ve a record of this. Assault. Rape.”
“If they listened to little slut foxes, don’t you think I wouldn’t be out here, responsible for the sweet virginity of another one?” Shun-jun smiled, sitting back on his knees and snapping the waistband against Kurama’s skin. “Do you think you’re different? You’re too important to hurt? What will change if you tell them?”
“Everything. I’ll change it.” Kurama snarled.
Shun-jun was quiet for a moment. Perhaps it was only the fire catching his eyes, but for a moment the pupils shone bright gold. Shun-jun pet a curl from Kurama’s temple. “Yoko, come after me. I long to end your life."
He leaned down and murmured, "But for now, I’ll settle for this.”
Shun-jun dragged Kurama up by the hair. He sat back and pulled him over his thighs. Kurama began to thrash. Shun-jun gave him a sharp slap across his face and jabbed a finger at his eye. “Hold still, or my hand will slip. I might just tear something off.”
Kurama stared at the fingernail, an inch from his pupil. He breathed, “Sorry.”
Shun-jun took note of that guile, but he so far outclassed the fox in strength and context that he did not need to be wary for it. Taking Kurama’s head by the hair again, he bent him over his lap. “Hold onto my ankle.”
Hanging upside down like that, Kurama could barely hear over the blood pumping through his ears, but he looked left and saw the man’s right boot. He put his hand on the leather, though he could smell that it was a demon’s hide. A badger. The most harmless of them all, slaughtered and skinned, trod into the earth. Sorry, he thought, touching it.
Shun-jun rubbed circles on the small of his back, smoothing his palm under to Kurama’s stomach. In a smooth continuation of a stroke, he slipped the black pants from Kurama’s waist, settling his fingers between Kurama’s legs, rubbing the same circles inside his thighs. It was calming, skin on skin, and Kurama shut his eyes to protect his mind.
The man jerked his other hand, lashing Kurama’s head back and forth. “Yoko.”
“What?” Kurama hissed, annoyed.
“Who will you pretend I am?” Letting go, Shun-jun slid his fingers down Kurama’s cheek and pulled at his lips with a fingertip. “When I ram into you?”
“I wouldn’t tarnish another’s memory with this atrocity.”
Shun-jun popped two fingers inside the demon’s mouth and pinned down his tongue, digging his thumb under Kurama’s chin for leverage. “Why don’t you change shape now? Turn into some little minx and wriggle away.”
Kurama’s eyelids flickered to hide a sarcastic glare. They would have just collared him with brass coins to stop the change, if he could. What was Shun-jun playing at? He knew Kurama’s limits. Cerene had caught him with the acron at lunch, and Shun-jun had killed it. And Shun-jun carried a fine toothed comb to check Kurama’s hair for seeds during pauses in travel, having him stand with his head bowed like a child being checked for lice. Shun-jun had the bag of Kurama’s plants, and Shun-jun was the one to beat him into the ground when they caught him pocketing mynin pods as they passed the Gored Plains. He knew Kurama had no choice.
Now, Kurama did have three seeds near him. One was in his coat pocket on the ground, one missed bur tucked at the hairline at his temple, and one under his thumbnail. But as much as he despised this, surrendering and refusing physical battle was the only way to come out of this place with blood in his body. If he unfurled a single leaf, he would be dead before it bloomed.
“Time to uncork this fine wine,” Shun-jun announced, smacking his lips in a popping sound. Harker chuckled and Kurama heard him taking out his dick.
A string of saliva followed the man’s fingers as he withdrew them from Kurama’s mouth. He stuck them back in once, petting at the young man’s tongue and the roof of his mouth before pulling out again, tripping over his lips as he did.
Kurama relaxed his aching neck, letting his head fall. Shun-jun was humming as he traced a disgusting wet line down Kurama’s spine. Kurama tried to relax his body for the intrusion.
It came with a gruff cheer from Wolf, and Zel’s low moan of approval. Kurama expected they were all stroking themselves by now. He imagine his pale body hanging lax over the man’s lap, like a skinned carcass.
Each touch shocked him.
Shun-jun was not some brute playing lover, though he was far from loving. His fingers curled confidently, each stroke sure and firm as though he had known this body a million times before. Kurama felt full, stuffed and split open. Shun-jun was gentle enough to be horrible, experienced enough to be thorough. There was a kind of unwelcome satisfaction in it, at the stem of Kurama's spine. But Shun-jun's other hand was cruel, a claw which shoved his thighs apart.
Kurama felt the teeth scraping his shoulder, then his ass cheek, then the small of his back. He swallowed, too aware of even the man's roughly clothed leg tensing under his chest and the breath that pre-empted Shun-jun’s bites – they were all reminders, bringing Kurama back to what was happening. It was impossible to close off his mind.
Shun-jun spread his legs and tipped Kurama’s body forward like hooked meat. Kurama inhaled as his nipples scraped across Shun-jun’s trousers and tried to push himself away from the sensation by slamming his hands flat on the ground. His weak finger, healed but still swollen, pinched at the impact. The reflex made him bear down, his feet already searching from ground with spread toes. Shun-jun slapped hard across his ass and howled, “Hold still, fox!”
Wolf cracked up, but Kurama barely heard him. He was trying to regulate his heart, the biorhythm of his circulation. He wondered it he should let himself be aroused to end this, or if it would simply be another way for them to mock and molest him.
Rather than let his legs windmill, he bent his hips and forced his legs to the ground till his toes clutched the gravel. Shun-jun knocked them apart and jammed his fingers in. He sought out that heavenly bunch of nerves. Found it. Stroked. Kurama’s knees gave out. His fingers clawed lines the dirt, catching it under his nails.
“What should we do with him?” Shun-jun asked, propping his elbow up on Kurama’s back and resting his chin in his hand, without pausing the hand that was sending the boy into shuddering collapses. “He’s going to pass out trying to bear me like a stoic.”
“I like his expressions,” Cerene laughed. “When you hit his core, he made a face like,” she gave a tremulous, joyful cry and made some fawning look that had them all laughing.
Kurama turned his face into his arm. The man’s thick fingers still thudded away inside him. They slid rough on dried and sticky saliva, strumming inside him as though there were hard strings to pluck screams from.
"Is that good? Do you like that? Bet you wish you got caught earlier, Yoko. You could enjoy yourself in my lap."
Kurama clenched his fists, trying to stop the pleasure that rocketed and fizzed through his abdomen. But Shun-jun had greater skill in many things. Worse, he had a sense of measures, and he read Kurama’s heartbeat and played his own rhythm to augment it - until Kurama began to shove back against him, urgent to prolong those short bursts of elation.
Shun-jun slacked and pulled his fingers out. He slapped Kurama’s thigh and rubbed it. “Good boy. Who wants a shot at this liquid thing? He’s loose as sand now.”
Kurama shuddered, ignoring them and trying to regain control of himself. His heart seemed to fly right from his chest on every wave.
“Better let Harker go first,” Zel joked.
Shun-jun flipped him onto the ground. Kurama curled to protect himself. Shun-jun yanked Kurama’s black pants from around his ankle, leaving him bare. “There you are, man. Take him.”
Harker pawed the thin boy up, his hands like a bear’s.
Kurama grabbed the man’s shirt for balance.
The man held Kurama against him like a lover. He carried the fox back to his seat, holding Kurama tightly to his body. When Harker sat, Kurama could feel that tented erection jutting under him. He shifted uncomfortably, refusing to look at the man.
Harker patted his head. “Why don’t you turn around? Anyway, I hate that face you waifs make when I go in. Not my fault you’re so delicate.”
Kurama nodded, wiping sweat off his face. The size of the man scared him and the feel of his cock’s strength was enough to make him bolt. But there was no path showing itself. “Harker. Please don’t do this.”
“What?”
Kurama turned. “Please. I’m asking.”
“Kneel and lean over.”
Harker pushed him down over the log. Harker had been sitting on his folded cloak, so it was not too rough on Kurama’s bare stomach.
Kurama felt the ground shiver when Harker dropped to his knees. His hand pulled Kurama’s thighs out wide, while the other bent his spine over carefully, molding the boy to the log like clay. Kurama’s head nearly reached his forearms, and were his hair not so stringy and clumped with sweat, it would have curtained him from the others’ eyes. Instead he tucked his chin to his chest.
“This is going to hurt.” Harker added.
Kurama’s shoulders drew up around his ears. Of course it was going to hurt.
Harker licked his finger and edged it in. Kurama felt it was near the size of Shun-jun’s wrist. When the second one came, scissoring at him, Kurama folded his arms over his head, clawing at his hair. His chest heaved.
“He’s breathing too fast,” Shun-jun droned a warning. “Calm him down.”
“No,” Kurama snapped, without reason.
“Calm down, little one,” Harker said, a bit upset, smoothing his big paw up and down the white form before him. He edged the head of his cock inside and Kurama began yelling.
“Shut him up,” Shun-jun snapped.
“Please,” Zel said, as if she were irritated by the noise.
Wolf sat up, cackling, and Cerene added, “Give him something to suck on.”
Kurama gasped and turned over his shoulder; Harker was staring down at him in concern and confusion. Kurama felt an amused pity and asked, tempering his jittering voice, “Please – go slowly. Be gentle.”
Harker nodded, patting him. “Sure, doll.”
“Yoko,” Shun-jun corrected sullenly.
“He’s not Yoko anymore,” Harker muttered, manipulating the youth’s hips.
Thank Gaia, Kurama thought. Yoko would be encouraging this.
For all his imposing form, Harker was tender, if naïve. He toyed with Kurama’s body, rubbing his back and along the underside of his arms, his neck and chest. “Ready?”
Kurama nodded. If he were to say no now and try to prolong it uselessly, Harker might feel he was being tricked and may choose to take him with violence, an unbearable pain which would bring Kurama to pathetic weeping.
Better to submit and have some control.
Kurama wondered how many in history had found themselves in the sad position.
“Alright. Here you have it…”
The pain made Kurama sure that his skin had been torn apart, split all the way up his front. His breath came out a wail. He tried to spread his legs further, but it did nothing.
Harker gasped, cursing.
Wolf circled eagerly. “Is it good?”
Harker nodded, breathless. “Aw, so tight…”
The group circled to see. There was a clunk as a log was thrown in.
Kurama clawed at his scalp. The fierce points of pain distracted him.
Harker grunted and thrusting his hips, spearing nearly his whole length. Kurama shrieked, his body resounding with the impact. Harker sighed, groaning at the rush and rocking.
Even as it was, despite the rough handling meant to arouse him, Kurama could barely think for the sharp tears inside him. His body was shocked and unable to defend itself from the intrusion, trained only for combat. His senses were dulled so much he was barely aware of his surroundings. He cried wordlessly.
Zel snapped, “You’re too big for him.”
“Yeah, where’s he putting it all…” Wolf snickered.
“Shut up, Wolf. Harker, leave him be. It’s too much. He’s going to bleed.”
Kurama knew he was already bleeding; he could smell it. But he also knew Harker was seconds from coming, so he was not surprised Harker complained: “Another moment, just – “
He grabbed the boy by the shoulder and hip and began pistoning in and out.
Kurama began screaming. He tore his own scalp and face with his nails. “Stop! Stop, I beg you – stop - ”
Harker held onto him even as he tried to lever himself away with his elbows and feet. The log slid forward until Zel put a foot on it. Kurama winced at the strange, wet burst inside him.
The instant the hold weakened, he tensed to tear away on smothered instinct.
Harker pulled out, laughed ashamedly and giving a low whistle. As soon as he let go, Kurama climbed across the log, collapsing but desperate to put something between them. He caught a heavy pat on the head from Harker.
“Sorry, guys. Lost control. Little fellow’s such a dish.”
Kurama panted. He was ripped. As the adrenaline subsided, the pain inside trebled - and his shoulder to throb. Kurama put his hand up to it and felt the bones completely out of place and cried out.
Zel reached forward and with a quick jerk and a flash of pain, the bone was back in the socket.
Kurama crossed his arms over his chest and lay down, curling. He took a deep breath and began to sob. He wept as if he were by himself; they didn’t see him.
“Be more careful,” Zel said, with obvious disgust.
Harker mumbled another apology, wiping himself on his kerchief. He tried to offer it to the boy, who did not take it. Harker patted between Kurama’s thighs, where blood was appearing in thin lines, but Kurama flinched.
“He’s killed hundreds of demons without mercy,” Wolf said, nodding to Shun-jun. “And not a few SDFs either.”
Kurama sobbed, listening to no one.
“He’s a human now, and an employee of the Reikai. We owe him some protection.” Zel sounded as though she had not yet convinced herself.
“If he’s got enough memory to learn to con Koenma, he’s got enough to take this lesson.” Shun-jun drawled. “Who wants the next bite?”
“No!” Kurama howled, pushing himself backwards over the gravel. “Please! Please don’t! No more – please stop.”
Zel froze.
He was shaking, fingers spread wide, hands held up between them like some spiderweb barrier. “Please stop.”
Her face twisted up and she looked at Cerene. Zel might hunger for him, but she wasn’t going to be the one who touched him first.
“Get back. The little guy loved having that big rod inside him.” Wolf pushed her aside. “We all saw him riding it. Drrrooling.” The man touched one finger to the back of the fox boy’s neck.
Kurama pulled away, but Wolf only shrugged. “Look, the kit's faking it! He’s a murderer. Do you remember the Galace Castle? Blood up on the fucking chandelier.”
“Wolf – Wolf,” Kurama said, startling them all. He was still moving erratically, without pride, turning his open hands to the man in some primal plea. “I know you hate foxes. I know you hate them. But for the sake of humanity…for what you protect. Please – I know what I did was unconscionable - ”
Wolf crouched down. “Baby, baby, shhhh. Shut up.”
“No,” Kurama shook his head and his face contorted with tears. “No, no, no.”
“Come on.” Wolf put his arms out. “I’ll show you some fun. You know you want my cock in you. Ride it. I’ll take care of you.”
Wolf grabbed him by the hips and slammed him down. Kurama shrieked and spun, clawing the ground up with his fingers, leaving five lined wreathes of scree. Wolf flipped the boy over and began choking him.
“No - !” The boy’s voice was garbled.
“Shut up, shut up,” Wolf muttered. "Stop talking."
“Hey!” Zel barked. "Come on!"
“Wolf…” Shun-jun and Cerene warned at the same moment.
Kurama was silent suddenly. His eyes fixed on Wolf like a cat, feral. Unblinking and wide as an owl. He growled from deep in his throat.
Wolf took his dagger and jammed it in Kurama’s hair, right next to his face. The fox choked off as he heard the thud, saw the flash. Blinked. Still alive.
“Next time, it’s your eye.” Wolf held up a finger, like he would hypnotize him. “Understand?”
Kurama nodded. He blinked, tears overflowing his lashes. “Yes. Yes, I do.”
Wolf sat back. “Now. Be quiet.” He patted Kurama’s cheek. Drawing his hand down, he admired the skin. “Dew of youth.”
Kurama let out a breath, feeling the trace of fingers. “Sir? Wolf, sir.”
The man pinched one of the fox’s lurid nipples. “Nice teats.”
“Sir,” Kurama kept trying, hoarsely. “I’m bleeding sir. Please. Inside me. Can’t you smell it? That’s all I can smell…”
Wolf rubbed his calloused thumb over the pink flesh. “So?”
Kurama said nothing. He licked his lips and kept silent, searching Wolf’s face.
“Tell you what. You can blow me.”
The fox heard it. His eyes flicked up. Not quite hope; more like shock.
“Do we have a deal?”
The red curls bent, once. Green eyes came up, looking for pity, biting his lip. Then Kurama nodded again, whispering. “Yes, of course.”
Wolf leaned back, kicking his legs out. He stretched his arms along the log, rolling back his shoulders. “Alright. Go for it.”
Kurama looked at Wolf's splayed body. He couldn’t make himself.
“Do it now or I’ll ride you until I wear a hole through your stomach.”
Kurama smothered a whimper. He walked forward on his knees, looking at his palms where the rocks had left angry red imprints.
“And if you think that’s a metaphor, you should ask the kits down at Black Xian River. Those left.”
Kurama inhaled and swallowed. He wiped his nose on his arm. It was running. Hiding his face, Kurama balanced forward, spreading one hand on the ground before the man’s crotch. The other he took and pinched at the topmost button on Wolf’s trousers.
“That was a fun week. They didn’t pick us up for days. Bad weather. Snow, actually. We just had to stay and amuse ourselves on little bloody foxes.”
Small dark drops spattered on Wolf’s jeans. Kurama sniffed again. He pulled one hand back to wipe his nose and eyes, then tried again.
Wolf leaned forward. “Hey kit. Kiss me first. I’m bored.”
Zel stood up and moved away. She took out a cigarette and lit it with a spark, facing the back of the cave, her back to the proceedings.
Kurama’s face was an ugly wreck. His mind had gone blank, flashing useless images of old grinning friends and strange houses and hideouts, like the dying throes of a drive-through movie screen. Everything was colorless. “I don’t know how.”
“Remember, you dumb bitch. You’re older than that thick skull,” he flicked Kurama hard in the head. “You’ve had your first time centuries ago. Start with a kiss.”
The boy looked off and shut his eyes, as if dragging up some documentary. He leaned forward. Pressing his lips out slightly, he brushed them diagonally over Wolf’s. Their noses hit.
Wolf laughed, hysterically. All teeth. He flicked the four buttons open and pulled his cock loose. "Now, kiss the pup. He’s bored too.”
Kurama looked at the spectators, then leaned forward. Instead of kissing, as if he got all the instructions confused, he went ahead and gave the head a lick.
The group roused in a startling cheer.
It tore through Kurama. He crumpled, caging his head with his hands.
They paused, exchanging looks.
“Why couldn’t we just tell riddles?” Kurama begged, weeping.
“Is he…mad?” Cerene asked. "Did he go mad now?"
“Please,” the boy said. “I know chemistry. I can grow roses. I can tell stories or sing or play cards, any game you can imagine. I read every language ever spoken in Japan.”
Wolf guffawed. “You think we fucking care?”
“I can do so much more than this.”
“Shut up already. Harker, might want to check your dick for brains; looks like you gave him some damage.”
“Screwed em out, heh.”
“Oh Inari, blessed one,” Kurama was saying, curling over. “Save me, please – “
“Hush him up,” Zel said, shifting away from the scene. “Wolf. You heard me. Hush him up.”
Wolf stuttered, shrugging. He gestured at the child, then sighed and put his hand down on the bright hair. “There, there?”
His voice went up on the second word, questioning, breaking the tension of the team. The team laughed, clapping their thighs.
“Calm him,” Shun-jun ordered, his voice sweet. “Sing him a song.”
Wolf chuckled, apologizing. Of course, Kurama thought hysterically, on a harsh night, of course people would want warmer memories than the Xian incident.
Wolf pet the little kit-human and pulled him up on his knees. “You want some coffee? Here. Foxes always like our coffee. Drink this here.”
“I – “
“Drink it!”
Kurama knelt there, his head under the man’s hand while a ceramic thermos was pressed to his lips. There was alcohol in the coffee; it scorched his throat.
“Good, good.” Wolf pet him, looking around the group. He mouthed, What now?
Cerene mimed rocking a baby.
“Come here, I’m gonna hold you, okay? That’s all,” he pulled Kurama up to his chest and rocked him. Kurama's eyes were huge with fear, his body clenched.
“I stole things,” Kurama exclaimed, choking with apprehension. “That’s all - we stole things, I didn’t murder anyone. I wasn’t an assassin, I wasn’t even a soldier. I killed demons, but it wasn’t- it was just fighting, for territory, for control. For nothing.”
“Saved us some trouble then, killing each other.” Wolf tried to be soothing. It was hard to forget his erection.
“I don’t know how to do this,” the boy begged. He gave a sudden, ugly wince and reached behind himself, between his legs. His fingers touched wet skin.
Kurama leaned forward, eyes dead for a moment. He choked. Zel sat straight. “Wolf, move!”
Wolf looked down in time to spread his legs apart and save his boots; Kurama heaved vomit onto the ground.
“Is that normal?” Cerene asked, astounded.
Harker shrugged. “Smaller bodies, it splashes them around, inside.”
“I am never fucking you,” Cerene said.
Kurama tried to move away. Wolf grabbed his hair, deep at the scalp.
“Wolf, go ahead. Yoko’s not an innocent,” Shun-jun reminded him. “He made a contract with the prince to get here. Pretty thing like him, you know he got turned inside out. There’s nothing new you could show him.”
“Oh really? Did the prince shove an encyclopedia up there?” Cerene asked, chuckling.
“Just A through H,” Wolf said. “Get any papercuts, Harker?”
The big man was quiet and just shook his head, embarrassed.
“It’s alright. Kid’s fine. Hey Yoko.” Wolf masturbated himself erect and bent the boy in.
“Ugh, you're disgusting,” Zel said. “You’re going to get heartburn on your crotch.”
“Give him some water,” Shun-jun said.
They brought a canteen out.
Kurama took the water given to him and swallowed. His throat stunk, singed with bile and half digested apples.
“Good.” Wolf flicked water over at Kurama’s face. “Alright. Now come here. Pup wants some petting.”
He took Kurama’s hand, a little thinner than his own, and wrapped it around his cock. He began pumping.
Kurama blinked off the water looked around at the group, staring at each face.
“You’re doing fine,” Zel said.
“Come on. Suck it!” Shun-jun dictated, as though he were speaking to an especially stupid child.
Kurama felt ragged, torn, but his stomach was strangely calmed. It was a comfort. He turned to Wolf and tilted his head slightly. “This is enough, right?”
“Y-yeah. Look, just put your tongue out a little,” Wolf said.
“I don’t want to,” Kurama whispered, like a confession.
“Well I don’t want to be stuck out in this fucking wilderness mediating your stupid class wars, but I’m here, aren’t I?” Wolf barked. “So if you demons drag us out here, pitching fits and riots every time there’s a speck of anything to fight for, I think I deserve a little break. Now put it in your mouth.”
“But I – “
“I don’t care about you. Who you are - what you want. Do it.”
“But I feel – “
“Do it.”
You despicable fucking child, the fox thought.
Kurama put his other hand on Wolf’s erection guide it. Inside his mouth, he rasped his tongue on the underside of the head, at that small triangle.
Wolf leaned back, moaning, and nodded. Kurama turned his head, so that the knob could be rubbed on the insides of his cheeks.
The sharp taste spilled over his tongue and he tried not to swallow, didn’t want it in his stomach.
Wolf whined, patting the boy’s head. “That’s the shit!”
Kurama dribbled cum out of his mouth onto the ground.
“I can’t believe I’m not paying for this.”
“Not often you don’t have to,” Zel joked.
“Not enough anyway,” he breathed. “Keep on, fox.”
Kurama took his cock out of his mouth and began lapping, slicking up the underside of his dick.
“Too cold, put it back in,” Wolf whined.
Kurama said, “Okay,” but paused to leave down and draw his lips over part of the man’s scrotum. The SDF watching him whooped, startling him, humiliating him.
“You slut,” Wolf cried, approvingly. “Kinky little perv. Yeah!”
Kurama breathed hard, hiding his face. “You said a blow job.”
“That’s right, you just keep going. Don't pay any attention to those fuckers.”
Kurama didn’t want to put an ounce more into any of this than was required. They were so easily shocked and thrilled, though.
“Do it again! Go,” Wolf said, lifting up his cock.
Kurama looked at him. “I’m embarrassed.”
“You weren’t embarrassed before. Come on.”
“Do it, Yoko,” Shun-jun ordered.
Kurama, cutting his heart out, did.
They were cheering by the time Wolf came. He shot it into the fire, despite constant threats as he became more aroused, that he would, “Come like a monsoon over that pretty face,” and, “I’m gonna spread this all in your hair.”
Kurama was glad. It would be awkward for him to meet their client, as the liaison for the human world, visibly defiled and smelling.
Zel clapped. “Okay boy. Ladies’ turn.”
Kurama wiped his hair back. “I’m tired.”
Zel winked. “I’m easy. Come on.”
Kurama went to her. He cast a small smile, glancing at her eyes as he knelt. He did it to smooth his path; she was the closest thing to an ally that he might have. She was a tough girl, a captain. She was acting weak, but trying to help; she wanted to be a rescuer. She was Yuusuke, with less courage to act. He could use that.
She grabbed his hair as he came in too fast. Kurama froze, putting his hands in the air. She drew him on with a grin and slipped her trousers down. He sat between his legs, ignoring the gravel that bit into his thigh, and he helped slide her foot out of the trousers.
“Red, eh?” Cerene joked. “What the hell were you planning on getting up to?”
Zel rolled her eyes, pulling her shirt down over her panties.
“I like them,” Kurama smiled, stroking the back of her knee. He planted a kiss on her thigh.
“He likes girls then,” Wolf clapped. “Who knew. Good show, kid.”
Harker joined him, chuckling.
Kurama ignored them, watching Zel laugh at herself. She acted as though she were the one on the display. He wondered if she ever stripped before them. She stretched the waistband and shot her panties at Harker, who pretended to be hit in the chest.
Kurama swallowed then, hesitating as she sat.
“Just try it,” Zel muttered. Her eyelashes fluttered.
He leaned in, imagining that he were kissing a girl’s tongue, gentle and firm. Like a heartbeat, he played off the pattern of her pulse. He sped and slowed, grasping her thighs, then running his fingertips in light circles over her. Zel was silent, but her hand moved blindly through his hair and over his shoulder. She watched him with flattering frustration.
As time passed, the crew growled. Zel laughed and put on more of a show for a few more minutes, grabbing his hair. Her legs pressed against him and without more than a few skipped breath, she pushed him away.
“That’s all?” Shun-jun asked, rubbing himself.
“Was he any good?” Cerene muttered. “Didn’t look like much, for a fox.”
Zel ran his hands over Kurama’s head, breathing, “Oh, I’ll keep him around.”
Wolf started the laughter, stealing the panties from Harker to fling back at her. “You’re panting, girl.”
Kurama comforted himself. At least it hadn’t hurt him. His mouth was tired, but it hadn’t caused him injury. That was something.
“Thanks,” Zel said to him.
Kurama had no words. She did not need to thank him any more than she needed to thank those she killed, grateful for the pleasure murder gave her. Thanking him for rape was mindlessly inconsiderate. But he understood the attachment and did not condemn it.
“Come here, Yoko.” Shun-jun called. “Come here and lie on your back.”
“I'm comfortable here, thanks,” Kurama said, putting his arm around Zel’s leg.
The crew laughed, but he didn’t move. It was an offer, not a joke. He looked to Zel.
Zel reached out and touched his hair. She had ambition. For a moment, it tempted her to strike out and claim this territory, this lovely possession. But she was too conservative. Perhaps loyal. “You better go, fox.”
Kurama’s hand closed on her thigh. Then he let go. He stood, fear curling in his chest like a thunderhead.
As he moved away, it was an accident, but his nails nipped her. He hadn’t stood for minutes and it made him lightheaded to rise so suddenly.
She slapped him. It was like being struck by a boulder in an avalanche.
Kurama stumbled and kept walking towards Shun-jun, muttering, "Sorry…"
His path wavered, and when he felt the light and heat of the fire coming in from the side, he paused. Harker was a coward. Zel was too. He was alone.
He looked out into the snow.
“Get over here.”
Kurama limped to the captain.
“Lay down. You’re not hurt. Don’t limp.”
Kurama stopped, then crouched down. His hand found a rock the size of a melon on the floor of the cave, and if the crew hadn’t lost the blood to their brains, or hadn’t been fighting a kitsune who could mask aggression at least as well as insanity, they may have noticed. Kurama simply hated Shun-jun so deeply in that moment, and was so afraid, he could not allow himself a safer plan.
Shun-jun was on him instantly, one hand on the wrist, the other at Kurama’s throat. He threw Kurama outside the circle towards the front of the cave.
Twisting like a cat, Kurama caught his balance before he hit the stone wall. The entire circle stood, though their pants hung open, damp.
Kurama backed up. The ferocious cold outside that narrow circle clapped to his bare skin. After a few moments, Kurama crouched down, watching them like a stray dog, the heat blowing off his back. Waiting.
“See that light patch you’re standing on?” Wolf laughed.
Kurama leapt off of it, but the force drove his right foot into the light soil, which collapsed with a crunch. He stumbled away, a dark substance sticking to the ball of his foot. There was a sudden stench – long dead guts of some demon.
“Poor guy didn’t like my orders either.”
Kurama stood, shivering. He wiped his foot on the gravel while his mind raced. The wind picked up and a shower of snow blistered across his bare back. He wiped at it, gasping.
Wolf shook his head and tossed another two logs on the fire.
“Careful, you’ll smother it,” Cerene noted.
“Worth it,” Wolf said, shaking his head. "Freezing."
“Come back, fox,” Shun-jun sighed, sitting down. “I suppose I was taking an extra turn. That isn’t fair, is it?”
Kurama crouched down like a dog, freezing. The stench of death blew around him.
The crew sat, feeling stupid. It seemed now only natural their prey had made some protest. A few of them still buzzed with gratitude, relaxed by the pleasure of hurting him.
Shun-jun waved, “Kurama. Come back now.”
Kurama’s heart pounded, skin prickled against the burning wind. “It was instinct.”
“I know. Habit. It was an accident. I’m not angry.”
That was a lie, but the snow was not.
Kurama edged up to the flames and knelt near Wolf’s seat. He kept his head down, his whole body submissive, even as Wolf fixed him with an irritated glare. The man eventually shook his head again and readied another log, splintering it to bits with repeated passes of ki.
Kurama crawled closer to the fire, still shivering.
Shun-jun picked up a thin streetwear hoody that Kurama had as an inside layer. He ripped off a sleeve and threw it in the fire.
Kurama stood and crossed near. He crouched to gather up his clothes.
Shun-jun ripped the other sleeve off and threw it into the embers. Kurama watched it deflate and flame up, the plastic paint running and burning green tinged. He turned and said without anger, “I don’t have another.”
Staring straight at him, Shun-jun slowly tore the hood in two.
Kurama's chest fell. He tried to walk away.
The captain struck him. It was light for Shun-jun, but very hard for a human to take. The blow hit the back of Kurama's skull. His knees gave out – all his joints fell loose and he collapsed like a doll, blind and foggy. Inside, his injuries rubbed, causing pain to bolt through his guts.
Shun-jun caught him and carried him back.
Lightning struck the ground next to Shun-jun’s foot and he turned.
Zel eyed him coolly, her fingers smoking. She said, “Maybe that’s enough for the night.”
“Didn’t give me a chance, did you? I’m just putting him to bed.”
Kurama was still dully conscious, despite his lax limbs. He felt himself on the man’s lap again, head lolling but cradled in Shun-jun’s elbow. Two fingers forced themselves through his lips, plowing under his tongue, coated in slick saliva.
Without touch or foreplay, the wet fingertips squeezed to his bloodied, torn entrance and slid in awkwardly. It was gentle, as a doctor might be.
Kurama still rolled in pain, waking. His cracked voice leaked out softly.
Shun-jun threw the boy about so that the young man’s legs straddled his own. Kurama leaned forward on him, chin resting over Shun-jun’s shoulder, a bad angle and nearly choking. Shun-jun shoved their groins together and began probing inside the other’s body.
Kurama began to get some control back and half-screams. His fingers twitched into loose fists.
Shun-jun noticed the movement and muttered. “Harker ripped you up, didn’t he.”
The redhead’s eyelids flickered. He murmured.
“Say it louder?”
Kurama licked his lips and pushed the words out. “At least wait. Tomorrow.”
“What? You sound like a housewife!”
Shun-jun upended Kurama’s body, lowering his head and shoulders to the ground. He rubbed Kurama’s thighs where they joined his buttocks, running his hands over the young man’s ass. He reached between his legs, grazing Kurama’s balls with the tips of his fingers again and again. He drew circles in the silky hair. More instinct than plan, Kurama flung a handful of gravel at the captain's face, and received another slap.
Harker cleared his throat and stood. “I’m just going to…to lay down. I’ve had enough of this.”
Shun-jun's mouth quirked up. “Maybe we should all cool down.”
He lay Kurama on his scattered clothes.
Kurama shut his eyes, exhaling in relief. He glanced up at Harker. “Thank you.” Then he looked at Zel. “Thank you.”
“Pull your knees up,” Shun-jun said. “Or is it better on the side?”
Kurama stared at the arching stone vault of the cave. He lifted his arm up to the side of his head, able to stretch and move.
Shun-jun nodded, simpering. He situated himself quietly; Kurama didn’t have to pay attention. His knees bowed in and for the moment, Shun-jun let him.
“Like cake,” Shun-jun said, rubbing his thighs. He pulled the fox’s thighs up so that he could slide his knees under.
Kurama concentrated all his energy on healing the tears he felt, deep in his pelvis. It was never going to work in time. But the cold had slowed the bleeding. He could at least contain the pain. As soon as Shun-jun was done, they would sleep, surely. Shun-jun would make them.
“You know, I’m no fox, but I think I could beat that performance any day.”
I wasn’t trying to sell any encores, Kurama thought.
Shun-jun patted the smooth stomach before him. He took his cock in hand and began tapping it against Kurama’s body, smacking the head of it against his ass. Kurama flinched, looking down briefly; the muscles in his thighs twitched.
“You know, I wondered when I met you – well, the second time I met you…” He reached forward and grabbed Kurama’s cock, pushing it up against his stomach. “That first time, you weren’t so sarcastic.”
Kurama pressed his head back into the dirt.
“I wondered how you’d fit in with the team,” Shun-jun whistled as Kurama’s member flushed, hardening. “Look at that. So young. I wondered what you’d contribute. If you could keep up…”
Kurama looked up. His eyes shut and knocked tears down the sides of his face.
“You’ve done yourself proud, vixen.”
“I’ll kill you,” Kurama growled.
Wolf watched through the fire. He threw out his bedroll along Harker’s, but prowled, as if he could not lay down.
Zel lit a cigarette and handed one to Cerene, who chewed it.
Kurama was calm until Shun-jun put it in. Then he put his hands against Shun-jun’s chest and pushed him away. He twisted, shoving free with his legs. Shun-jun grabbed his wrists and jerked him close again. Kurama hollered, “It hurts, I’m hurt, no – no, Shun-jun – please – “
“Relax!”
“Please, it hurts, it hurts – “
Zel cursed, drawing smoke. “This is a fucking joke, Captain.”
Kurama looked at her, seeing her on the edge. Then he whispered in Shun-jun’s ear, “Let me go. Let me go tonight and I’ll say anything you want. I’ll beg for mercy if you swear it’ll do any good. Swear you’ll listen. I'll grovel in front of your people – imagine the respect.”
Zel pinched between her brow, hearing the brush of voices.
“You can make me say anything. I’ll look you in the eyes all night. I’ll follow ever order perfectly, from now on. I will do – whatever you want, to stop this.”
“Babe, you’ve got nothing to offer me I can’t take for myself.”
“You have no idea how a partner’s willingness can make sex good. I can do wonders. Please. One night. A short break.”
“I don’t want your willingness,” Shun-jun growled. He wiped Kurama’s wet cheek and showed it to him. “I want this.”
Kurama fought him. And wept.
Zel watched, the only one still looking. She saw them rolling and writhing, the boy’s arms snapping in locks and twisting attempted breaks that she’d never seen before. He was good.That was something. He was accurate and swift and clever. Generally, that made a win.
But this was the SDF.
She snubbed her cigarette out as the exhausted boy was finally pinned, his head slammed to the ground.
Kurama coughed into the dust.
Shun-jun looked down, laughing. He used the hand cramming Kurama’s skull into the dirt to pat him hard. “Look at that. I came all over you. All that twisting.”
“I beg you.”
“What?”
Kurama panted, pinned, his eyes rolling back to watch the man. He touched Shun-jun's hand, his wrist, his chest – not pushing, but begging, petting. Helpless. "Please."
Shun-jun stood up. He dusted himself off and kicked the boy hard in the side. “Clean up and get to bed.”
Kurama rolled on his side, gingerly testing his bones.
Zel caught his eye.
Kurama couldn’t care less for her concern. She had done a tenth of what she could have.
He sat up, looked back as his wrinkled, smashed clothes. They were torn with rocks, but as soon as he climbed into them, he felt invincible, as though they were a separate skin. If he didn’t move too much, he could imagine that none of it every happened.
A fierce, unbidden anxiety attacked him. Kurama pressed his hand over his heart, sinking in meditation to control it.
“Yoko,” Zel said, standing behind him.
“Stay away from him,” Shun-jun said, from where he lay. “He needs his rest.”
Zel watched the boy walk away. She looked like her stomach had been carved out. She turned away and went to her bed.
Kurama set his bed up near Shun-jun.
“What are you doing?” The man asked.
Kurama paused. It was standard that the captain sleep in some way touching or connected to a hostage when there wasn’t a night guard to prevent escape. It was in the briefing. “I thought you’d make me.”
Shun-jun thought it over, then rolled away. “Sleep where you want. You did good today.”
Kurama’s face was mutilated with rage. No one saw it. He gathered his bedding and threw it down where he had last been humiliated, and fell asleep on the cloth over the hard ground, staring at the storm outside.
*