Only the Most Intense Flames can Burn a Rose

Kurama took a deep breath. He needed to gain control of this situation, and he needed to get control of it now. He needed to be dressed and prepared, not in his pajamas and half asleep. But... He couldn’t just scoot forward. That would put him in reach of his enemy, and at this point in a situation that he didn’t know what to expect... That was stupid.

As he spent his time thinking, the other man on the bed took the opportunity to speak. “I killed him for you, Kurama. He had no right to touch you, so I killed him.”

Kurama’s attention was successfully diverted with that statement. He looked away from the empty space in front of him and turned his head to the crow. “What are you talking about?” He asked, though he wasn’t really concerned. Was there anyone that touched him that he’d be looked to if he disappeared? He didn’t think so...

“That man in the park.” Karasu finally moved from his position, turning his body and leaning towards the other, bringing both of his knees on the bed. Kurama didn’t move in response, so he continued, reaching forward and barely touching the other’s side. “The one who did this to you. I killed him.”

Kurama tilted his body away and moved his hand to the same place where Karasu’s hand was a moment before. It was stiff there, since he’d covered the stab wound with a self-created concoction that he’d used before to heal himself. Instead of using a band-aid, he’d used a large leaf he grew that became a breathable adhesive when water came in contact with it. A home-made band-aid and antiseptic. The area was still tender, but it was safe enough for him to fight. The leaf was as tough as skin when it dried.

As for the man... He didn’t think that anyone saw him with him, and even if they did. He left the man alive. A punch to the face usually wasn’t enough to kill someone, and even if it was... It was self-defense, obviously. He was stabbed, after all.

Kurama sighed softly. “Why did you have to kill him? You could have just left him there, Karasu. There was no reason to kill him.” He didn’t know if he’d be able to explain this. Karasu probably didn’t have the mental stability to understand that people don’t have to die. Then again, he was biased.

Karasu made a sound of amusement, and then pressed forward, sliding his legs on the bed to bring him closer to his prey. Again, Kurama didn’t move. “Of course there was a reason to kill him. No one is allowed to hurt you, whether you want it or not. I am the only one who you will turn to for your masochism. I am-“

“I am not a masochist.” Kurama interrupted in a strong, convinced tone.

Karasu certainly didn’t seem annoyed by the interruption, not because of what was said. He gave a soft chuckle, and then leaned a bit closer. “Should I prove it, Kurama? I’ve waited so long to come back to you, after all.” He finally touched his goal, and Kurama felt the back of cool fingers brush very gently against his cheek.

He sighed softly, eyes closing at the caress. His lips trembled uncertainly, and after just a moment, he opened his eyes again, looking right into the violet eyes of his nightmares. “How, Karasu? How did you come back? I thought… I thought you were gone forever…” He actually sounded sad. Well, okay... Maybe he was pushing it with that one. Why would he be sad that Karasu was still alive?

The amusement in Karasu’s eyes didn’t leave at the other’s tone. It looked like he was falling for it. “No, no. I will not tell you the secret of my resurrection, Kurama. I will not let you destroy it.”

Kurama’s imploring eyes hardened once again, and he pulled his face away from the other’s grasp by moving forward and off of the bed. There was the moment he needed for that, after all. He hated how Karasu read his so well. No matter that he did, he just couldn’t seem to get the best of this Quest Class demon. He moved to the other side of the room, near the door to his bathroom and the smaller, less used desk that he had in his bedroom. “Leave me be, Karasu. This is your last warning.”

Karasu hadn’t moved when the other did. His hands did not follow, and they lingered in that same position for several seconds, eyes never leaving the spot that the other was in just seconds before. After at least twenty seconds of silence, he finally moved. His hands fell back to the spring green bedding beneath him, and he turned his head, eyes shrouded by the ebony of his hair. Well, the amusement was gone. Annoyance and anger rested in those eyes now, and Kurama wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing... That silence surely was unnerving.

“Warning before what Kurama?” Kurama was just about to speak himself before that biting statement passed through the air. That “what” seemed almost painful to say with how sharp it was. He actually had to put thought into not wincing at it. Did he want affection or anger more? Either, he knew, were dangerous.

He lost his tongue, and Karasu took the moment to begin to stand, but Kurama reacted. He reached to his side, to the desk- or the small fern in a pot on it. He ripped off a few leaves and then threw his hand forward. The leaves hardened and sharpened as they flew, turning into green throwing knives that buried into the wall behind where Karasu had been just a split second before.

Kurama moved forward to the middle of the room, rotating as he did so to keep his eyes on anything that he could. If it was anyone other than Karasu, he would have moved against a wall, but he knew that if Karasu was in front of him or behind him, he was still a great threat that could avoid both his eyes and his ability to sense energy.

Where was he? Where was he hiding and what was he planning on doing? He remained as alert as he could manage to be, and then he saw it. A single surge of a soft green light at his breast was his signal, and he darted back just in time. The bomb went off and singed a hole in his shirt and a minor burn on his chest. It wasn’t enough to break the skin, at least.

He reached in his hair and pulled out his trusty rose, but before he could use it, the crow demon appeared in front of him with a violent lash of nails. Kurama sidestepped to avoid it, but the nails still brushed his shoulder enough to barely break his skin- and the rose he’d taken dropped to the floor.

One seed was planted.

Kurama continued to move about the room, using gravity and the objects around the room to help him dodge the physical attack that Karasu was launching against him. Duck here, twirl away there. Either Kurama had gotten better, or Karasu just wasn’t trying as hard as he was in the fight before.

No words were exchanged between them vocally, but both of their eyes spoke of their own determination to win this fight. Both knew that this would not be the last fight they had. Kurama just didn’t have the resources or the location to fight to death, and it didn’t seem that death was the ultimate goal of Karasu’s movement.

After one swipe that almost cut off another lock of his hair, another bomb proved distracting to Kurama. He moved to avoid it, and Karasu vanished again. A soft jingle drew his eyes across the room, but there was nothing to see. There was nothing to see and nothing for him to defend against. Did Karasu just melt into the wall or something?

He caught sight of another bomb in front of him, and jumped back again, instead of just stepping back to avoid the blast altogether. As soon as he did, though, he was pulled close to the person behind him by a sharp pressure of his neck. A small pained sound passed his lips, and he quickly began to appreciate being able to breathe freely, since he couldn’t do it at the moment. It wasn’t the feeling of hands, and in attempt to lessen the pressure against his throat, he lifted his hands, only to pull his hands back with another sound. It burned.

After a few moments, Karasu let go, and Kurama tumbled forward and to the floor, coughing for air on his hands and knees. One hand was on the floor for support, and the other went to his chest, as close to his neck as it could be without touching whatever it was. It didn’t burn his neck, at least.

But, gods, what was it? When the air began to return to his head and his thoughts flourished again, he felt... Restricted. Like the thing around his throat held more than just his neck. When he looked back up, Karasu had crossed the room to the fern he’d used as his first offence. He was stroking the plant with care, and Kurama quickly looked over to the wall. The leaves embedded in the wall drooped.

They weren’t hard and sharp anymore.

He didn’t feel the plant shrinking away from Karasu’s deadly touch.

He didn’t have his powers.