Title: Growth of a Spirit Detective
Author: Azalea J.
Beta: Amymcclair
Rating: R
Pairing(s): Hints at Hiei/Yusuke/Kurama and Hiei/Kurama
Disclaimer: Yu Yu Hakusho was created by Yoshihiro Togashi and adapted by Funimation Studios. I claim no rights to characters or settings or dialogue. I am making no money off this work.
Warning(s):. Language, Violence, Descriptive Scenes, Semi-Blood Play, Torture, Rape, Rim, Drugs.
Word Count: Approx. 8 000

Growth of a Spirit Detective

Chapter Four

He ran.

Feet pounded the earth and dust billowed up behind. The two demons to his either side kept an easy pace with him.

Every few hundred miles he had to remind himself: this wasn’t a run for pleasure. This time he had a destination in mind. And he’d be damned if anything got in his way.

Smaller youkai looked up in mild interest as the demons passed, then returned to whatever it was they’d been doing before the distraction.

The sun was warm on his back. His powerful legs fairly flew over the earth. Despite his purpose, he allowed himself some amount of pleasure in the feel of this careful abandon, his lungs gulping in the air as if it were ice cream to a puppy. He dutifully ignored the burn up his backside. The stretch and pull of worn ass muscles. A stretched sphincter. He wouldn’t even allow memories from any farther back than a couple hours reach his conscious thought.

This area of Makai was wild, very wild. And old. Grasses and shrubbery grew rampant. Trees were few and far between, but clumps of such growths provided unaccountable shelter for potential ambushers. There were youki signals and signatures all around; so many that his senses were almost assaulted to the point where they threw in the towel, shouting: Fuck it. You’re on your own.

Thankfully, he was able to concentrate without trouble on the two aromas closest to him, and focused loosely on those; as he refocused his mind on where he was headed.

Right. Mission.

Time to beat the shit out of another asshole that thought he ought to be the king of the hill.

He’d deal with his own shit later.

“Kaname?”

“Yes. He’s a youkai believed to be slightly more than upset with the change of power in Makai.”

“Another idiot who thinks he’d make a better kind – did he even enter the tournament?” Yusuke sat.

“No. From what we’ve been able to gather, he’s been in seclusion for years. Unfortunately, as such, we’ve no idea what his powers may be, or really, what he’s truly after.”

“So what the hell does Enki want us to do?” Yusuke waved the stupid letter around as if shaking it would make the answer fall onto the floor where he could read it in plain Japanese.

“Well...” Kurama took the letter from Yusuke and read it over once more to himself. “He used the phrase ‘I felt the matter urgent enough to demand immediate reconnaissance’, which means that he’s decided to deal with the problem now, instead of waiting for Kaname to make the first move. Also by ‘reconnaissance’ I am quite positive he intends us to go in secretly and find out what we can-“

“And then beat the shit out of this Kaname guy, mostly likely.”

Kurama laughed. “Well, I’m sure Enki intended us to use our own discretion in handling the matter.”

“That’s what I said.” Yusuke took the letter back from Kurama and read it again – it still looked like gibberish to him. “So we’re going in alone?”

“From the letter: Yes. But I wouldn’t be too surprised if Enki sent others as well – to be safe. The original plan was to remove demons from the patrol teams and storm Kaname’s keep in numbers. But arguments were made to the effect that by doing that, we’d be leaving ningenkai vulnerable. And things are still a tad bit unstable right now to risk something so unpredictable.”

“So Enki’s solution is to send in the most powerful demons at his disposal, and deal with the problem now rather than let it escalate – the King’s no fool. When do we leave?” Hiei stood and belted his pants back up, ignoring Yusuke entirely when the detective averted his eyes.

“...The morning. It’s far too late now, and we could all use a good sleep before we head out. I am also not positive where the keep is, so looking at a map in the morning with clear eyes would be the most prudent course.”

That’s just another way of saying you think the detective should remain indoors for one night more, fox. Subtle. Hiei gazed at Yusuke closely. Then went back to locating his shirt among the tangled wreck of the bed.

Yusuke headed for the bathroom, content for the moment to wipe his mind clean and concentrate on the bare necessities of nature; hardly noticing Kurama’s idle dodge.

Though Hiei was easily the fastest of the three, he held back and ran alongside the detective, keeping pace easily and roaming his youki far in search of pursuers. A cavalier attitude never did anyone, youkai or ningen, an ounce of good. They were, to the demon, powerful enough to level a decently sized human city with barely a flex of power – that did not, however, make them the strongest in all makai. Though to voice such truths in Hiei’s presence would be asking for a swift, yet painful death by means of a black dragon.

Kurama kept his thoughts internal, like Hiei, but left any scouting to the fiery demon alone. Instead, he concentrated his awareness on Yusuke, watching closely for any sign of distress. He knew the detective was sore - physically, but he wasn’t in pain, precisely. He diligently kept up with the fox, the youko having set the pace of this run. Still though...

As the sun waned, Kurama began to glance around for a suitable place to stop. They had run at a steady pace for the majority of the last five days, resting only once: two days past in a cave well sheltered from both sight and smell by thick lichen growth and trees. None of them had eaten since then.

A good sleep and a full belly would be a great idea, as close as they were now to their destination.

They ended up sleeping in a loose copse of trees. They ate what food they had left, trusting on the return trip to be swift; and settled into a comfortable doze. Kurama curled up with his arms folded over his chest, nestled in the sweeping embrace of the roots of a young okuninju. Yusuke settled himself comfortably opposite to Kurama, his back to a large boulder, which had soaked up the sun’s warmth and now worked as a heat pad of sorts. Hiei had disappeared into the boughs somewhere above.

The silence, which had begun upon their departure, became more apparent now that Yusuke didn’t have his legs or lungs to keep his mind distracted. His thoughts also had became more insistent that he pay them more attention. It didn’t take long for him to reach the point where he just needed to say something, anything...

“‘Rama?”

“Hmm?”

“This Kaname – he eat humans?”

Kurama blinked himself more awake. “...Yes. Why?”

“Just tryin’ to decide what kind of guy he is.”

Kurama sat up against the sturdy bark and watched Yusuke closely in the dark, his eyes glittering in the filtered moonlight. “From what we know, he’s been in seclusion for years. We don’t know what his power levels are - but we’re assuming they’re A-Class or close. As for his personality...” Kurama sighed. “This is all guess work, but we believe he wasn’t happy with the way Youmi and Mukuro merely ‘bowed out’ as it were.”

“So... he doesn’t want to be king?”

“Not as far as we can guess – he just thinks Makai should be ruled in a certain way- and either Mokuro or Youmi were the best for the job. Humans are inferior, after all, and any demon who sides with them – indeed, attempts to “protect” them – is weak in Kaname’s eyes.”

“Just your run-of-the-mill demon, then.”

“As far as we know.”

The stars winked in and out between the waving leaves and branches of the okuninju; the wind sighed. Kurama began to drop off, content with the presence of Yusuke across from him and Hiei somewhere up above.

“... ‘Rama?”

“Mmm.”

“How often... do... Mazoku, go into that heat, thing?”

“Don’t worry, Yusuke. Your heat cycle is not due again for another four or five years.” And as he finally lost himself to sleep, Kurama thought harshly to himself for a second if that, perhaps, was not the wisest thing to say.

---

“Enough bloody trees!? Where’s a god-damned road when you need one!!!” Yusuke kicked a dead branch out of his path and promptly tripped as his ankle was snared in a vine growing along the forest floor. “Guh? GRAH!!!” SMACK!!!

Kurama laughed silently behind his hand, and stepped lightly over a tiny, purple bloom; watching with tightly concealed mirth as the detective struggled back to his feet and resumed his angry thrashing through the woods. Above, a black shape flitted from tree to tree. “You’d better start being quiet, Yusuke. We’re getting close. With the amount of noise you’re making, we’d make easy targets for even a C-class.”

“Yeah well, they should have thought of that before and made it easier to get to the bad-guys hideout.”

Hiei dropped down behind them silently. “Would you like them to have bright neon signs pointing them out as well?”

“It couldn’t hurt – FUCK!” Yusuke scowled and ripped the offending thorn plant from its cozy bed in the soil, and makeshift home in his pant-leg; cursing it as he tossed it as far into the brush and away from him as he could – which was pretty far.

Kurama shared a quick look with Hiei, and did his best not to laugh at the face of irritation he was met with. So much for going in quietly.

In a blur of black, Hiei was gone once more.

Kurama sighed. Right. Time to get serious.

Touching Yusuke lightly on the shoulder, he moved around the detective and took the lead. With little urging, plants and underbrush parted ever so slightly to allow smooth passage through their midst.

He could hear the detective cursing him silently for not ‘doing that before’, and smiled calmly as he led the way.

There were faint youki signatures further on ahead and nothing but brush in sight. They’d arrived, but this was the easy part. Now they had to find Kaname, ascertain what his intentions were, and- if foul, put a stop to them immediately. Through force, if necessary.

This would be good for all of them.

And especially good for Yusuke. Nothing like a fight to let off some steam.

There was a twinge in the back of his mind a moment before he caught a familiar scent in the trees. He stopped.

Yusuke pulled up behind him, Kurama could almost hear the hairs at the back of the tantei’s neck bristling.

Breath lowered unconsciously, ears pricked, eyes keen. They waited. Another twinge and Kurama looked immediately to his right. He didn’t need Hiei to tell him – he could feel it – immense youki was headed in their direction.

But something about the feel of this energy caused him to relax - fractionally. And as a dark form emerged from the leaves, he felt a smile gracing his lips. Of course Enki would send him – who better to deal with a demon who thought someone like Youmi or Mukuro should have taken the throne.

“Youmi.”

“Kurama. Yusuke. You’re much later than I thought you’d be.” The great demon brushed aside a catkin branch, and stood regally before them.

Without looking at Yusuke, Kurama responded easily. “By the time we got the message, you were likely already halfway here. We set out as soon as we could.”

“I see.”

“Were there others?”

“As far as I know. But knowing Enki, I really wouldn’t be surprised to find others had been sent.”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” Yusuke huffed.

Kurama refused the urge to smile.

Youmi turned his sightless face to Yusuke.

Well aware of his own rugged appearance: his hair half-heartedly drawn back, his Mazoku markings faded, torn jeans, and a semi-respectable top – the same one he’d worn in the demon tournament, as a matter of fact, green sash and all - Yusuke met Youmi’s face with his usual cocky grin – teeth included.

Youmi smiled. “I’m glad to find you’re doing well, Urameshi.”

“Yeah, same to you.”

Hiei dropped down from above, not bothering to acknowledge Youmi. “We should go.”

“Hiei.”

Hiei nodded to Youmi in return, and turned to follow Kurama into the brush, Yusuke followed, and Youmi brought up the rear.

“So, Youmi, I bet you’ve already scouted the place; what’re we dealing with?” Yusuke threw over his shoulder, pushing a small tree out of his way.

“Your average castle – high walls, only a few windows. The gate is well guarded.”

“So then we need to ask ourselves,” Kurama commented quietly, “do we announce our presence or go in unseen?”

“I think it would be wise if I went in announced. I can distract Kaname in that way, while you three look around.” Youmi was having no difficulty navigating the thick vegetation, to Yusuke’s annoyance.

“That’s fine.” Hiei grunted, “Are we going to split up?”

“That might be best - Yusuke and I can take the lower floors. Hiei, would you take the rest?”

“Hn.”

“Alright then it’s settled. Now will someone please tell me what exactly we’re looking or listening for, and what we’re supposed to do with this Kaname guy?”

“We’re to use our own discretion Lord Yusuke.” Youmi brushed aside another catkin branch.

Yusuke snarled.

Kurama chuckled.

---

“This guy’s got some pretty creepy tastes.” Yusuke commented as he looked around. The room they’d ended up in, after dropping in from a window, was filled with various insects and lower-level demons. All dead and all displayed in various twisted positions. One was stapled right into the wall, its face a mask of pain and grotesque torture.

Kurama dropped down from above and rose to his feet. His nose scrunched at the sight. “Most of these demons died from internal poisoning – a very painful way to go.”

“Really? How can you tell?”

Kurama pointed. “No external wounds, save a small puncture made to the base of the neck.”

Yusuke squinted. Sure enough, there were three tiny holes, all in a row - and sometimes more – in the neck of each and every youkai displayed. “Eww...”

Kurama led the way into the hall, glancing around the frame before continuing on; a seed nestled comfortably in his palm – just in case.

The hallways were dim, with bare walls plastered a dark blue. Shaded doorways and soft carpeting brought on a sense of rich danger, so much so that Kurama felt his hackles rise, and his senses shot through with adrenalin, ready for any sudden movement or sound.

There were many stairways reaching up, but the duo passed by these with only enough inspection to ensure they wouldn’t be set upon by surprise – Hiei was scouting the upper floors, after all.

After investigating many small and bare rooms, they eventually came to a stairway leading down. They wasted no time in following the descending stairs.

If the hall had been dim, the stairwell was near black, and Yusuke found himself snagging the fabric on Kurama’s arm without any thought to the matter. Kurama didn’t comment, and the detective never let go. But the stairs were dry and well kept; which in itself was a blessing.

Reaching the bottom, Yusuke finally released Kurama, and quickly took stock. Down here there were no windows, but strong electric lights lit the walls every five feet, resulting in a dark, light, dark pattern all around the room.

“And now to continue our exploration of the creepy...” Yusuke muttered in his trademark sarcastic way, staring at the demons stapled to the walls and displayed in glass cases.

Without comment, Kurama proceeded further into the next room. Peering inside and listening closely for moment, he moved in farther. It was dark: pitch black. Breathing silently, he reached behind him and placed a hand on Yusuke’s chest, silently asking him to stay where he was.

Something smelled... off.

After a few moments of silence, Kurama reached into his hair and scattered lamp-weed seeds into the room. The small sounds they made as they clattered across the room echoed, and some tinkled as if hitting glass. It must be a larger display room, then, Kurama figured. Waiting a moment longer to see if anyone would investigate the sounds, he made the weeds grow.

As soft light illuminated the room from the floor up, his eyes widened, and he felt Yusuke clutch his arm.

Well that settled it then; the demon, after which they’d been sent, was guaranteed a good, merciless beating.

Yusuke stared long and hard, doing his best to repress the bile clawing up his throat.

He couldn’t close his eyes.

Right in front of them, in a suspended tank of glass, was a human girl. Her head had been ripped from her shoulders and now floated between the shredded skin of her legs. Blood clotted the water, turning it a murky brown. Her eyes were vacant, but her mouth was wide in a scream that would forever echo hollowly within her glass confines.

On the walls were other figures - some human, some demon – all torn and ripped and shredded in ways that could be considered art to the twisted beings of the underworld.

A man, missing both his arms and his penis, was hung from a lone cord ripped through the ceiling. Blood, long dried, streaked in rivers from his eyes and the sockets of his arms.

Five young children – four human, one demon – sat at the base of another glass tank; each had had its eyes removed. Behind them, within the tank, a fish demon had had its entire endoskeleton ripped out through its back, leaving thick, trailing pieces of flesh still attached. The bone structure had sunk to the bottom of the tank, where it gleamed eerily in the refracted light.

A being, whose gender could no longer be determined had been sewn into the wall.

A youkai with her ears and tail ripped off. Inch-thick wires ran like stitches up her arms, down her legs, and through her chest, which exposed a long-dead heart and missing ribcage.

Teenagers with fingers bent and misshapen and some missing entirely.

An old man missing his entire lower body.

Blood was everywhere. Clotted, dried and fresh. Dripping down the walls and pooling on the floor. Soaking into the plush and expensive carpet.

It was in the air.

In Yusuke’s lungs.

He shut his eyes and opened them, turning his head to escape the scene. When he opened them, he found himself staring at a girl no older than Keiko had been; her arms had been shredded into ribbons alike to the ones adorning her torn, faded yellow, summer dress. One of her breasts had been ripped right from her body, and her heart, behind it, removed. Claw marks covered her face.

And it was real. This wasn’t a dream. He couldn’t wake up and shake it off like all the others.

This was real.

And he was vomiting.

He didn’t know where he was. Who he was. All he could see was Keiko. Shredded and dying and dead. And he threw up everything he had.

He watched his own vomit mix with the blood on the floor, and dry heaved until he was puking blood.

“Yusuke!”

Stop shouting...

“YUSUKE!!!”

Keiko...

---

“Lord Kaname, Lord Youmi has arrived to speak with you.”

“Has he now?” The demon smiled, fangs gleaming. “Let him through.”

The lower imp bowed and left.

So you’ve decided to stop prowling outside my gates and come see me, then? Hah! Lord Youmi. Kaname stretched languidly, her white cheetah tail curling sensually around her bare thigh. Her tiny ears twitched, and her youkai birth marks – black lines accentuating her eyes and running down her cheeks like tear-tracks – gave her feral grin a cruel twist. Her fangs peeked below her lips, gleaming.

Youmi bowed respectfully as he entered Kaname’s chambers. He showed little surprise to find the demon he sought was female and even less surprise to find that she was old – older than he.

She lounged luxuriously on a large four-poster bed, with satin sheets and poofy pillows Mukuro would have been proud of. The rest of the room, besides the plush carpet, was bare.

At a gesture, Youmi sat in a velvet chair brought in by the imp who had escorted him from the gates. “Kaname, I take it? You’re not quite what I expected.”

“And you, Lord Youmi, are more regal than I have been led to expect – especially for one who lost the now famed Demon Tournament. Does Enki feed his pets well?” Kaname sat up on her bed of pillows, her tail twisting like her smile.

Youmi fought the urge to bristle and instead replied, “I suppose if ‘letting us live out our lives with little influence’, is feeding, then yes, he feeds us well.”

Kaname scowled.

“But we’ll cut the banter here, shall we. As you are no doubt already aware, I come on King Enki’s behalf-”

“Pah! King Enki. He’s no more a king than I am a humble house cat!”

“Why are your thoughts thus?”

“Why!?” Kaname shot up on the bed, her fur like needles, her blue eyes blazing. “He’s nothing but a reclusive servant to Raizen! Even after the Lord died, Enki and his drunk, pet wife continued to serve him – protecting humans. BLASHPHEMY!!! The ningen race is nothing but cattle, worth breeding only to feed!”

“So it is only for his willingness to preserve both races that you despise him?”

“Despise?” The cheetah relaxed languidly into her pillows. “No. He is not worth despising. He should be wiped clean off the earth and forgotten like the speck of insignificant dirt he is.”

“Would you, then, take his place?”

“Me?” She looked pleased. “Rule? No. I am no ruler. I would be a loyal vassal beneath a true King. But I could never rule – I am no fool. I have neither the drive nor the desire.

“‘Vassal’ is just another way to say ‘servant’.”

“SHUT-UP!!!”

She is testy and ill-tempered. I’m quite sure this youkai really has no idea what she wants. No matter. I’ll indulge her and give Kurama more time to search. I’ll then take great pleasure in subduing this youkai.

“You, Lord Youmi. Would have made a grand King. A King all of Makai could have united beneath.”

“Could I?”

“Well, perhaps not. After witnessing the way you bowed out of your lineage so gracelessly, I suppose Mukuro would have been more fit – better anyone, for that matter, than Enki.”

“Did you know him?”

“Know him? No. I know of him, however. And that is enough.”

“... Did you know Koku?”

Kaname laughed. Loud and feline; it sent a chill right up his spine. “Koku, the simpering pet to Raizen. Koku, who indulged herself in drink after he died and gave herself to Enki. Yes. I knew Koku – we grew up together. She, an obsessed fighter. And I, content to play with lower-level demon minds and make them believe I was on their side, before ripping from them their pathetic lives. We clashed from the beginning. Yet we were still friends.”

This is getting me nowhere. I have learned nothing of her true aims or ambitions. “Then it is revenge against Koku, that you do this?”

“Do what? Youmi, I do believe you are an exceptionally dull conversationalist.” Her eyes glittered.

What...

She rose fluidly from the bed, and walked cat-like and stalking over to where he sat. “All I want, dear Lord, is to enter Ningenkai and indulge myself at will. Whoever follows in my wake is free to do as they’d like – so long as they do not cross me. Yourself included. Ningenkai, for too long, has been sheltered unfairly by Reikai, and now our supposed King. If they cannot protect themselves, are they then worth protecting at all?”

Youmi stiffened marginally, sniffing subtly. Something was in the air...

He remained silent, remained vigilant of her every move, every flick of her mischievous tail.

She walked up behind him and stroked a delicately clawed hand trough his hair. “So soft...” The hand traveled further, until it was stroking his neck.

Youmi bristled, but stayed still.

“Frankly, I’ve stopped wishing for a King to unite Makai against the simpering idiots running Spirit World and storm ningenkai for the good and pride of us all. What fool would let the lowering of the kakai go almost completely unnoticed? Therefore, I will stop caring about the rest of demon-kind: let them fall prey to human morals and ethics if that is what they desire. I will bring pride unto MYSELF!” She smiled. “But enough chit-chat. You’re only here, after all, to distract me from the three others running uninvited throughout my home, are you not?” She stroked a claw down the nape of his neck, leaving a red trail in its wake.

His eyes widened: she knew? He started to coil, to spring. Cleave her head from her shoulders and end this now-

What!?

He couldn’t move!

His muscles flexed yet nothing happened.

The smell grew in intensity, and his mouth drew into a tight line. She’d drugged him – subtly and efficiently. But with no drug he recognized, nor had heard tell of.

“Mmm hahaha. But not to worry – my brother should be entertaining them at this very moment. We are very good hosts, as you will learn.” She squeezed, her claws digging in deep.

---

“YUSUKE!!!” Kurama clutched at Yusuke’s arms, desperately trying to wrench the detective out of his own mind. “Stay with me, Yusuke! Don’t give in! Do you hear me!? Yusuke! YUSUKE!!!” The fox shook him, and more vomit splattered to the floor. The stench reached his nose, and he sneezed. It was cloying. Mixing with the rotting flesh and feces and blood permeating the air. How he had not scented it before...

Yusuke dry heaved beneath him, his stomach void of anything left to spit back up. And soon Yusuke was vomiting blood. Great clumps so dark and fresh, Kurama grew worried that it was a matter of minutes until Yusuke heaved his heart or a lung onto the floor to mix with the grime.

And then Yusuke went limp, practically died in his arms, and Kurama pulled until he held Yusuke steady. “This may have been too much for you; your fears are still to near...” He stroked a hand across a sweat-dampened brow. “What did you see, when you saw their mangled forms?”

“What indeed?”

Kurama stiffened, and his eyes widened considerably when his body suddenly went lax without his conscious consent. He watched helplessly as Yusuke slipped from his arms and hit the soft carpet with a wet slap.

He grew unaccountably angry. He struggled to turn, to reach into his hair and slice apart the being who dared take Yusuke from him.

His youko power surged, and he snarled. Never mind that he’d forsaken that side of him; only one thing was in his mind now: maiming violently the one behind him, the one who muddled his senses with some sort of trickery. The one keeping him from his lover!

“Mm. Mm. Mm. Now that won’t do – I need you to be more... malleable. Mr. Youko. I’m sure Lord Urameshi won’t have any problems with that. He can come with us too, if he’d like.”

His mind suddenly grew fogged. Swirling white blotted out his vision: like a cloud, or heated air. He could see someone ahead of him, but just barely. They turned and he desperately tried to follow, but he couldn’t move.

Looking back and down, he found his wrists bound by and to the swirling mist.

Mist, which reached his nostrils and swarmed into his lungs.

He choked and tried to call out to that someone, and more mist flooded his mouth, his throat.

It was blinding. Such mist.

So beautiful...

HIEI!!!

Kurama cried out, gagging on his own blood. He struggled to sit up but was wrenched back down by a blinding pain in both arms. “Mah! GUH!!!” He coughed and spit.

Blood flew.

Blinking to clear his eyes, he struggled further.

Wait! He coughed again as fresh blood soaked into his throat; struggled to keep his airway clear so he could breathe. Something’s not right. I shouldn’t have to fight this hard to regain coherency. CALM DOWN!

But the fear only tightened his stomach and the blood clotted once more. His arms burned. And he couldn’t keep his eyes open long enough to take stock of where he was, what he was doing, who if anyone was with him. He couldn’t even feel Hiei.

He couldn’t feel Hiei.

And that small light that he’d begun to feel so recently. That burning blue flame. So different from the red of Hiei’s fire – the blue that was Yusuke. He couldn’t feel Yusuke anymore either!

Kurama panicked.

For the first time in his many years alive, Kurama forgot to slow and think. Forgot to calm and breathe. And he panicked.

He ignored the pain, and he ignored the clotting in his throat. He thrashed wildly and screamed, calling out for Hiei, for Yusuke, for his mother. He screamed and screamed and thrashed blindly. And when a cold hand grabbed his shoulder and pushed him down forcefully, he coughed violently and shouted as loud as he possibly could, “LET ME GO!!!”

“No.”

He froze. That voice! Stilling, he coughed again and gasped for air. This cannot go on – I’ll suffocate myself! Dammit, Kurama, STOP! but he couldn’t stop, the fear was overwhelming, and he just. Couldn’t. Stop.

“Such a wonderful drug... The effects are even more pronounced on Kitsune and Tanuki; I wonder why?” A crushing weight pushed down on Kurama’s chest. “Doesn’t it make you want to just claw your own eyes out?”

It did! Oh! How wonderful would that be? To claw out his eyes and never have to witness the horrors of the world again!

He pulled at his arms, desperate to do just that. It was too wonderful an invitation to ignore! But he couldn’t. It hurt, and he couldn’t move his arms – something was pulling them back. Ripping them – hurting him! He choked and coughed, and the voice above him laughed.

Kurama.

“It’s too bad Lord Urameshi refuses to come around – I’m sure he’d love to see you like this, Kurama - too caught up in your own fear to think logically. Can’t even fight back! HAH!”

Fight back? He was already fighting with every ounce of strength he possessed! The fear gnawed at him, inside and out. And the blood surged into his throat – it was a losing battle. Every time he spit it out it just flowed right back in – why would it do that? Someone must be doing it! Someone was trying to drown him with blood! He thrashed.

Kurama.

He stilled.

The blood returned, and he spluttered and struggled again. What was wrong with him? This wasn’t right. No – that’s right, it wasn’t. He was drugged. Right, he needed to calm down, fight this. Think.

But it was so hard. Every time the blood flowed back into his mouth and nose, the urge to breathe overtook him, and threw him back into the ensnarement of the drug. What drug could do this? Envelope its victim in a fear so intense... His arms – BURNING!

And the blood returned, thick and more viscous than ever.

Noooooooo...

Kurama... I need... you.

Yusuke?

’Rama...

Yusuke! The flow of blood continued. But he blinked and focused, trying to see. If he could just see, then he- Dammit fox, LISTEN TO ME!

“Hiei!?” Kurama gasped, coughed and blood flew. His eyes widened, and he gasped in air – wondrous air. His lungs filled, and his heart rate slowed marginally from the break-neck thumping and pounding it had commenced in his chest.

His arms burned still, but that was because they were twisted painfully behind his back and bound with chicken wire. The wire cut sharply into his skin with every move he made, then dragged through the jagged cuts and stung.

More blood flowed into his mouth, but he closed it and breathed through his nose.

Blood was poured over his nose, but he forced air out so violently in response, it was pushed away immediately in a messy spray.

His eyes focused, and he glared a death so immediate, so swift and so final that the one seated so firmly on his chest wavered – but for only a moment.

“So, the eminent fox returns.” The demon laughed.

“Kaname...” Kurama snarled, focusing on his breathing even as more blood was dribbled onto his lips. Some of the blood came from a wound in his own left cheek – the rest of it came from a bowl the cheetah demon currently held above the fox’s head.

The demon laughed and dumped what was left in the bowl onto Kurama’s pale face. Kurama spluttered and fought the returning fear. The drug was still at work in his system. He couldn’t smell anything – not the blood covering his face nor the demon seated above him – not Yusuke. Though he knew he must be close by. He knew.

Choking again and again, he eventually rid his throat of the clotting liquid, and glared at the laughing demon. “You’re sick.”

“I suppose I am, but I’m not Kaname.”

Kurama froze.

“Kaname’s my sister. I’m Hakane. Nice to meet you.” The cheetah leered, tan ears flicked in delight. Kurama could see a thin tail waving in amusement behind him. The demon was splattered with blood – blood resulting from Kurama’s thrashing, both his own and from the bowl.

He breathed, and his eyes darted quickly. The room was well lit and furnished with only the bed he was lying on – or, strapped down to. It was a large bed with room enough for three well-sized demons to lay comfortably side-by-side.

Yusuke was against the wall opposite the only door.

Kurama froze.

The detective, besides a small dribble of blood and drying vomit down his chin, looked physically okay. He was out cold. His arms had been drawn over his head and belted firmly with black leather straps. Said straps not only restrained the detective’s arms, but also pinned the tantei effectively to the wall with the help of an iron cast bolted into the hardwood.

Even were he awake, he would have a difficult time freeing himself of that.

Kurama was slapped, hard. And for a moment he lay stunned, his wounded cheek smarting.

“Pay attention to me. Mr. Urameshi will be left alone, if you lie still and don’t struggle.”

What?

The demon was already twisting his way down Kurama’s chest, rubbing his thighs and hips roughly against Kurama’s legs and lower torso. He was watching Kurama carefully through bright blue eyes. The black birth markings down his cheeks making him look as if he were crying tears of tar.

The blood splattered everywhere across his face and arms and chest made him look manic.

He was hard.

Kurama felt a cold chill creep up his arms and down his neck and spine.

“You’re a lovely breed, Kurama. I enjoy cutting up lovely things.”

Kurama fought down a tightening in his throat and cut back, “I’ve heard a statement like that before – though the demon who uttered it was narcissistic and consumed with revenge.” He groaned as his chest was pounded brutally in response.

“Don’t speak. I like your face more than I like you voice; I won’t hesitate to rip it out.”

Hiei...

Hakane stroked his left hand delicately down Kurama’s front, tearing the fabric and the soft skin beneath artfully with his claws. The cuts were shallow, and they stung.

Kurama dutifully ignored the pain, his mind and eyes searching desperately for a means or method or hope of escape. All the while he continued to ward himself against the effects of the drug; now that he was conscious, this was by far easier. And already he was starting to regain his prowess, his sense of smell was returning to him, and, though distracted, he could feel that bright burning red flame deep within him that was everything Hiei.

The chicken wire bit deeply into his arms whenever he so much as twitched, and so he did his best to remain still as well as mute – he dared not test Hakane’s threat. He hadn’t noticed earlier, but there was a similar wire wrapped loosely about his throat – so loose it was barely a feather’s brush against his skin – however the ends were cast haphazardly to his either side, and a small gesture on Hakane’s part would render his neck shredded.

Or he’d be beheaded.

Neither was a desirable outcome.

His hair was tangled with the same wire.

His legs were free of bonds, however the cheetah currently had them pinned beneath him – and kicking wildly would only strain his arms, and give Hakane cause to pull the wires.

Dammit, there has to be some way out of this...

Kurama shut his eyes against the actions of the one above him.

I could cut him to shreds with my whip if only my hair or hands were free!

Though Hakane had no weapons, his claws and fangs were weapons enough. Soon Kurama was clenching his teeth against the onslaught of small, stinging wounds all over his torso and upper legs.

He flicked his eyes over to Yusuke, neither daring to move his head and alert Hakane to his lack of attention, nor to draw Hakane’s attention to the detective. Dare I try and escape? If I miscalculate, and Yusuke suffers in exchange... If Kurama tried something, and Hakane somehow got a hold of Yusuke...

No. He couldn’t risk it.

Hakane had managed by this time to scooch down Kurama’s body until he was seated on his lower legs. The weight was an uncomfortable reminder of his entrapment. A pink tongue slipped from between canines to lick excited lips hungrily. Kurama closed his eyes. Yusuke.

A claw hooked the waistband of his pants, and started to tug them down. Another claw joined it within moments, and Kurama bit his lip.

His penis went completely ignored, to his slight relief. Instead, Hakane raked his claws down either side of Kurama’s pelvis, deeper this time than any before, and Kurama couldn’t help the hiss of pain that left his mouth.

Think of Yusuke! You’ve done worse and endured more in the past. This is nothing!

His pants were tossed and hit the wall with a thwack. His legs were shoved back up to his shoulders, the movement jostled his arms, and the chicken wire dug in deep. “Nnn...” Kurama bit his lip, and concentrated on Yusuke. On breathing. On Hiei. On anything that wasn’t the hands and claws and fangs violating his body.

More blood trickled down his thighs to pool beneath him as Hakane indulged himself, ripping into creamy skin and watching in fascination as the blood welled and spilled down firm ass cheeks, like tiny red streams.

Kurama choked as his anus was breached with little mercy; a claw digging in and ripping his insides ever so slightly as it was withdrawn. Three more were then forced inside with little preamble.

Kurama successfully stifled the cry of anger and anguish that swelled in his chest, though tears welled up beneath tightly shut lids and flooded down his cheeks.

It wasn’t the pain. He could easily deal with pain – had dealt with torture before.

But this wasn’t about the pain. It was about violating his dignity and pride. Going against his mate... His mates. He glanced back over at Yusuke, unobtrusively. And to do it in front of one of them was the highest of insults.

Tears rolled down in copious amounts to mingle with the blood. He felt himself growing dizzy and struggled to resume his fight against the drug and his own mind. He fought to keep the thoughts and images from the forefront of his mind. Pushing them back until they were only blurry images at the back of his head. Stifled.

But still, the fingers and claws were there. Hakane pushed his control over him, delighting in his dominance over the great Youko Kurama. Cackling in delight as more blood coated his fingers and the bed covers. Licking his lips in anticipation.

Kurama wanted nothing more than to rip that sardonic expression right from the demon’s face and hurl it across the room with what would later remain of the demon’s body.

Not much. He promised himself. Not much at all will be left when I’m done with you. Once you’re finished with me, sated and at ease, I will use that moment of weakness and slice you into the pieces of mere flesh and tar that you are.

Kurama bit hard into his own lips, determined not to give the demon above the satisfaction of a sound of pain.

I could use your sword arm now, Hiei. More than I’ve ever needed anything.

---

Hiei crouched along a rafter, staring down unblinkingly at a room empty save for a still layer of dust.

The only light available came through the grimy window he’d entered through. It was a very boring attic.

Mukuro’s attic was full of old weapons and even older books and scrolls – some jewels. A decent collection of pillows.

This was a ridiculous waste of space.

Landing lightly on the wooden floor, Hiei flitted to the trapdoor he could see faintly outlined amidst the dust and opened it cautiously. It was light to lift - well oiled - and relented without complaint.

The hallway beyond was dimly lit.

He listened and scented the air – nothing.

Flitting down, he crouched next to the wall with his hand hovering above his sword hilt.

What paltry defenses. Such a waste of my time.

Straightening, he began a cautious series of flitting movements down towards where he could see an open door from which light graced the landing.

He could hear voices – demon and guttural. Returning his hand to his sword, he backed up next to the door and listened.

There were only two, and their accents were thick - or their tongues were - and difficult to understand.

“How many were there supposed to be?” One gargled.

“Four – Youmi, Hiei, Urameshi, and Kurama.”

“And Kaname said wait?”

“Of course she said wait, you idiot. She’s smarter than you, so do as you’re told.”

“She’s smarter than you too.” The first one mumbled.

Kaname knew we were coming? And the demon is female... Interesting.

There was a thump from inside the room, and the second demon snarled, “Watch where you’re going.”

“Can’t help it – tail does what wants.”

“We have to be quiet, anyways. Or we’ll disturb Hakane.”

Hakane?

“Why Hakane? He down two floors?”

There was silence from the room, and Hiei got the impression the first demon was being glared at. Then more silence.

After a time there was another clunk and a slap.

“Ow! I didn’t mean it!”

“Then don’t do it!”

“Thought you said we should be quiet, Hakane’ll-“

“Shut up! We’re supposed to be on guard. You’re supposed to be quiet when you’re on guard.”

“You’re being louder than me.” The demon mumbled. “And ‘sides, I thought Kaname was already talking with Youmi, and Hakane caught the rest. Why bother guard?”

Hiei stiffened outside the door. His mind already scrambling in search for the familiar white flame that was his fox.

“Hakane only got two of ‘em. One’s still prowling uninvited like. So we’re on guard to make sure he doesn’t disturbed Kaname or Hakane.”

Hiei was no longer listening. He’d found his white flame – it was shaking, terrified, and covered in a mist so thick, it was almost as though someone had shrouded Kurama from his mind. Worried and disturbed, Hiei called out to his mate, shouting progressively louder when he received no answer.

When the flame started to flicker more violently, as if caught in a strong gale, Hiei scrambled to reach it, shouting at the top of his mind, Dammit fox- LISTEN TO ME!

The flame stilled, and the mist abated. Hiei allowed himself a breath of relief, realizing he’d started relying on the wall for support at some point as he panted in distress. Then he tried to edge closer, desperate to find out what had happened, and where Kurama and Yusuke were now. The idiots in the other room said this Hakane demon had caught them-

“It’s Hiei!”

Hiei snapped from his mind reluctantly, and glared back down the hall. A demon was pointing a claw at him, shouting as loud as it could. “I found ‘im! I found ‘im! Hiei HERE!”

“Dammit.”

He turned to step away from the wall – give himself more room – and found himself face to face with a lower-level oni - one of the demon’s who’d been speaking from the room.

“Che!” In a flash, he’d cut the demon down and made his way into the open room. A second oni shrunk away from his sudden appearance, and the sight of its dead comrade’s head lying just beyond the door.

Advancing on the demon so fast it never had time to blink, Hiei pressed the edge of his blade harshly into its throat, drawing a small amount of putrid smelling liquid that must be blood. “Tell me where this ‘Hakane’ is, and I’ll consider sparing your life.”

The demon shook, terrified, mute. Its claws scrabbled at the wall behind it.

Hiei pressed harder, and the demon squeaked. A strong stench filled the room, and Hiei knew the demon had wet itself. He grinned. “I have very little patience and even less time. Tell me now, or it’ll be more than just piss soaking into the carpet.”

Feet pounded in the hall.

The demon trembled and scrapped its hands more fervently along the wall.

Hiei snarled. Fine

With a twist he leveled the blade and plunged it deep into where he guessed the youkai’s heart must be. With a gurgle of pain, the demon’s hand struck something behind its flabby body and suddenly pitched backwards into the wall. Pulling Hiei’s sword - and subsequently Hiei - along with it.

The fall was quick and ended jarringly. The flab of the dead demon’s body provided a cushion for Hiei’s fall, however, and he got up having suffered no further harm than a slightly crushed sword arm. He scowled, and ripped his blade from the putrid flesh, wiping it on the demon’s yukata, and sheathed it.

Looking up the way he’d come, he found a wide hole cut into the ceiling. It was black. He raised an eyebrow. A demon laundry chute?

Ignoring it, he focused instead on the room into which he’d fallen; it was lit softly by fifteen or so tiny glowing plants along the floor. Plants which reminded him sharply of his lover and that tiny, flickering white flame.

Sparing the corpses little more than a glance as he passed, he focused back on that flame, pleased to see it was clear and strong before him – but it was still afraid, and it called out to him silently. Desperately.

There were two black, gaping doorways leading from the gruesome room – he chose the one to his farthest left, following his instincts.

It would take the dunderheads above a while to figure out where he’d gone. That would give him time to find Kurama and the Detective, torture and kill to his satisfaction this “Hakane,” and get them all out safely. He’d then return and take the head of the twisted architect of this room, and Kaname – if they weren’t already one in the same.

Youmi, Hiei was sure, could handle himself.

A black figure silently detached itself from the wall, careful to keep its youki hidden, and followed silently after the Koorime.

---

“Ah...” Kaname smiled, her tail twitching, her nails tracing patterns over the demon Lord’s neck with his own freshly drawn blood. “They’re all caught now, Youmi. What will you do next?”

Youmi, for his part, relaxed calmly in his frozen state and ignored the claws digging deeply into his neck. Thinking.


-TBC...