Disclaimer- I own nothing, except my brain. (Even that is questionable)


A/N- Hiya! This is my first Fan Fic, so please review and I'll put up chapters faster! (It's a good motivator) I love the KarasuxKurama dynamic. Don't worry, I'll be sure to make it very obvious when the story is finished, it's so sad when a good piece of writing is left with frayed edges, or you're not sure if they plan to finish. I won't do that to you guys. Anyway, enjoy!

.Chapter 1.

Kurama sat with uncharacteristically bad posture- slumped, elbows on his knees, head hanging into his hands. His bright crimson locks fell in loose tangles over his strong, yet somewhat feminine shoulders. He was utterly exhausted. Completely Tapped out. He had every reason to be! Just the day before was the fated match between himself, and his vicious opponent from team Toguro, Karasu.

Kurama had won the battle, but only just barely. From the beginning he wasn't even convinced he could beat the ruthless demon, and only succeeded with the help of the powerful form from his previous life, that of the legendary Yoko Kurama.

That in itself had been a draining experience! Having his vessel completely eliminated and reformed several times over the course of a few days made him feel strange, maybe a little loose in his own skin. As if something right beneath the surface was quivering.

Kurama knew he should be pleased with himself for his victory, but an uneasiness in his spirit was preventing him from celebrating. He couldn't quite place the feeling. It was as though something wasn't right, or somehow incomplete. It was not fear, but something akin to it. It felt in his chest like a shortness of breath, but without the physical manifestation.

'I'm just tired.' He thought, unconvincingly. Kurama was never one for excuses.

His body was still almost entirely drained of it's spirit energy. He had used almost every ounce he had to come out on top against Karasu and his mad bombs. At the end of the battle even sacrificing his very life energy to take his opponent down with him. He was going walk into death with Karasu, as the only way he could possibly win against him.

'I'm sure Karasu would have taken pleasure in that fact.' Kurama mused silently.

'He himself said that there is no intimacy like that of the killer and victim. In this battle we both played the role of each. Karasu wanted to possess me, he wanted to take my life, and in the end I'm sure it did appear to him that I sacrificed my life to him.'

Kurama shivered in the darkness, wrapping his fingers around his upper arms gently, head still bowed deeply, his long beautiful hair draping over his even more beautiful face. The scene from the hallway before the battle had been haunting him, over and again.

Kurama was walking down a dark corridor, distracted by designs about his upcoming match, when seemingly out of nowhere the fighters from the opposing finals team, Bui and Karasu, appeared. They were positioned arrogantly, meaning to block his path. Karasu stared with unconcealed adoration at Kurama as he berated the foxes teammates for not watching the days festivities.

Suddenly Bui smashed his fist into the wall beside him, creating enough of a distraction for Karasu to completely disappear. Kurama felt his heart skip a beat.

He could not sense the Demons energy at all. Pinpricks of fear danced in his rib cage. Suddenly he felt a presence totally surrounding his neck. The energy was so strong it was like electric fingers, and though real fingers did not contact his skin, he could feel that energy squeezing all of its own. Karasu's energy was flaring behind him, a tease, pressing heavily into the entire back of his body, scorching hot, as though seeping into his very pores and entering his skin. It felt like Karasu was holding him in a vice, but he still never made contact. He could almost feel Karasu hum inwardly at the effectiveness of his threat.

Then there were fingers in his hair, gently, ever so gently.

"You're hair is so damaged, Kurama. Human bodies are so frail."

Karasus' voice was deep and sultry, almost lazy, as if whispering to an uncertain lover.

"I know you fear what my touch can do to you, and yet...

maybe you also want to know it."

Karasu's energy danced against Kurama, a strong, smooth, pulsing pressure. It made the redhead weak in the knees. He tried to control his breath. He would not show his panic. He threw back an elbow with liquid speed and precision, but Karasu was already in front of him again, before the blow could land.

"Get AWAY!"

"No need to get upset, it's just a game. As a fighter, I like YOU best, Kurama-" He crooned the word 'you' playfully.

"-and when I like something, I like to take it away. It gives me a certain feeling, like pondering an unanswerable question. You don't reach the results you want, and you're swept in an empty despair that makes you feel... alive."

Karasus gaze bore heavily into Kuramas emerald green eyes. The bombers violet eyes half-lidded, impassioned, dangerous. Kurama knew in that moment that Karasu was laying his claim to the fox. This was about so much more than the coming fight.

'He's delusional!' Kurama thought, trying desperately to maintain a calm visage.

"Save your fight for me, ok?"

Kurama started from his reverie in a panic.

He could feel those same fingers on his neck!

He threw himself painfully from the boulder he was sitting on, clumsily smashing to the ground. He cried out quietly as white hot pain wracked his body from the grievous injuries he suffered the day before.

There was nothing there. He felt the silky ribbon of hair slide over his neck to his back.

'Pull yourself together, Kurama' He scolded. He shifted to press his back against the boulder.

'Why do I feel as though I've missed something?'

Kurama was so frustrated he had to remind himself to relax his muscles.

Perhaps it was something from his inner demon fox spirit. As much as he disliked Karasu for his boundless cruelty, he supposed he hated him most because of his cocky presumption that Kurama would be so easily taken. Yoko Kurama was a ruthless creature himself, he claimed thousands of lives for no reason stronger than greed and game! For a centuries Yoko had been one of the most feared (and revered) beings in all of the Demon World. Yoko being such a strong part of Kurama, he could not help but feel an admiration (and to be honest, maybe a sort of connection) to a demon of a caliber so close to his own. If they had met in that time, they would have had a very different relationship, to be sure.

Before he knew it, Kurama was drifting off into a fevered sleep, salt wind caressing him gently on the shore. He dreamed a dream of the dance of death he and Karasu had shared. He dreamed of the look in those sly, violet eyes; confident, calculating, and filled with love. He dreamed of the the hostile passion that fueled such incredible pain.

He dreamed in a river of blood.