Wow, it's been a while since I have posted anything here.

I'm flying by the seat of my pants here in regards to length for this one guys. I didn't plan this to be a multiple chaptered thing but it looks like its going to be at least three or four chapters long (possibly more) instead of one.

Over on LiveJournal I'm writing a vague series of oneshots following the life and times of Youko and Kuronue, they fall under the title of 'Before Time' which is a verse which can be considered slightly AU, but I try to keep it canon as possible. This is the third fic in the BT-verse, which details how Youko Kurama and Kuronue first met and began to work together and evolve into who they are in my other oneshots. The two fic before this are my breif enterpretations of each of their pasts, but this fic should be able to stand alone quite easily.

Please enjoy.

--

Inception

"It is rare to find a business partner who is selfless. If you are lucky it happens once in a lifetime."

-Michael Eisner

--

Flipping onto his side and sliding down from one branch to the next with the ease of a tree-born animal Youko seated himself in the arms of one of the oldest trees in his favorite forest. He laid his tail beside him on the thick branch and pulled a seed from the scruff of his neck, he also spent a distracted moment running his hands through his slightly tangled hair in lieu of combing it properly, he rolled the seed between forefinger and thumb, leaking his energy into it slowly and carefully.

It wasn't a hot day really, but it was muggy enough to the point of making a task out of breathing. There was no wind whatsoever and the storm clouds above hovered and threw empty promises in the form of long, loud thunder claps. While all storm, wind and water associated demons were having field day, for a simple ground dweller like Youko Kurama it meant it was a day to organize. This was so because he hated being unbearably hot more than he hated being sodden wet (it was hell to try and keep the whole length of his hair untangled and tame when damp, he disliked his ears being wet--therefore cold--even more, and don't ever ask him about his tail) and it irritated him to the point where clear thinking was nigh impossible. When he was irritated he was tempted to make rash actions and being tempted alone was dangerous for his safety.

It was not a day to be running or scheming or doing anything expect finding water and living in it until the thick heat of the air dissipated, if only a little. Youko would do that a little later though, perhaps, he knew when to play and when to prepare and visit his faithful guards. Their loyalty was what kept him alive and it was not something that he took for granted.

Satisfied with his hair, for now, Youko brought the seed to his lips and placed it on his tongue after muttering a few words in the old youko language. He chewed until his jaw hurt and forced himself not to swallow the pulp of the seed, instead he pulled a rather delicate looking once perfume bottle from his sash and cupped one of his hands to hold the oddly pink coloured fluid he poured from the bottle in his hand, and then spat the contents of his mouth into his cupped hand and clenched his fist quickly. He watched as the pink fluid ran down his arm to his elbow, counting to ten, and then opened his fist and let the rather large amount of now green water pour from his hand, careful to make sure it drizzled down the trunk of the tree he'd perched himself in.

The tree itself seemed to take a large breath and swayed thankfully, despite the lack of breeze, and its roots crawled up to the surface to meet the steady stream as it traveled down its base. The green fluid held proteins and other chemicals that helped the trees with photosynthesis, the lack of sun didn't really deter them, but Youko liked to keep in their good books anyway. Feeding them some artificial health was the best he could do to appease their ever thirsting hunger for water they had to fight to obtain among all of the other stronger, unnatural plants they kept company with. This wasn't their terrain really, Youko had transplanted most of them for his own purpose and they had trouble coping at times, though it never seemed like they did on the outside.

Youko leant closer to the trunk and rested his forehead against it. He clenched his fist and then shook it to cut of the flow of water once three or four gallons had passed. The green of the water on his hand seemed to sink into his skin after a few moments and then returned to normal. He rested his hands in his lap and closed his eyes, listening to the dead quiet of the forest and the utter lack of critters and demons. Only stifling heat that made him squirm and yearn for a nice dry, cool day.

The rain couldn't come soon enough.

A panicked cry split through his skull suddenly coming from one of the younger, in relative terms, root systems far too close to Youko's general vicinity for comfort. When flora talked it was something like titers and rustles, but this was a screech and howl from one single flower that spread across a wide network and turned into a cacophony of screaming that could basically be translated to 'get out' and 'you don't belong'. It was more of an urge than words, a compulsion, but then there was the layers and layers of panicked shrill cries that crawled along his skin and teeth this teeth on edge.

Youko was moving before he knew it. He could feel the rapidly growing panic and odd screams from severed stems when the demon invader began to cut itself free when the trees sought to protect themselves and Youko. He sent a surge of Yoki to aid them, feeling rage boil in his chest.

Who the hell would dare to enter his territory and cut down his harmless, well mostly, flowers?

-

He didn't want to open his eyes.

The world consisted of splinters digging under his skin, rivets of blood and flashes from the past of wards blocking him from escape, crackling with effort. The wall that kept him on display and the others safe. For a second he was confused, where was he?

He took a deep breath, automatically checking for damage. His lungs and ribs were working perfectly, though one of his wings was either fractured or wonderfully bruised. Pain spiked through him, up his left wing and down into both of his arms.

In the darkness of near consciousness something hissed at him and moved against his side. There was a vague impression of long hair sliding over his right arm, and the sting of claws on his shoulder, but when he finally forced his heavy eyelids to open there was nothing.

Something tittered in the wind, it felt like the high trees that towered over him were laughing as he lay broken and confused, against the dead trunk he had been thrown against with enough force to knock him out. The humidity of the day did little to ease his confused anguish.

Long black claws caressed the side of his face, sliding over his cheekbone towards a long tapered ear.

Instinct forced him to try and move, he managed a groan that got caught in his throat as the pain in his limbs ceased to become a scream and instead berated him with paralysing roars. He fell back against the trunk squeezing his eyes closed in pain and clenching his teeth.

"Who are you?" This was not the one he had come to steal from, no, this was another unaccounted for foe. Had someone lied to him? He'd been told Youko Kurama worked and lived a lone. Years of planning were ruined. He felt cheated and betrayed.

Was this how the shameful end came?

The titters came again, laughter that sounded like the odd rhythmic tapping and scrape of branches. There was no breeze that could have caused the trees to move so to make the sound.

Something inside him, in his head, loud and angry, hissed wordlessly. Loud enough for him to have thought that it had come from outside his skull, and when he tried to lift his hand to his head on impulse he was screaming in pain again and his hand wouldn't obey him.

He slumped against the dead wood, head falling the side and the brim on the hat he wore covered what could still be seen of his face. Unconscious.

The trees kept laughing at him even after, until the black claws slipped from his face at the sounds of the approaching youko. The creature fled.

-

Youko had a giddy feeling in his chest. His rage had disappeared in a flash, like someone had reached in and tugged at his aesthetic string (the one directly connected to his cock, may I add) which resulted in his suddenly light-hearted and playful.

He lay like a discarded doll. Slumped against a dead tree. Youko had been skirting around the issue of what to do with that tree for centuries and so he felt a small twinge of regret to see it caught up in this destruction.

Some sort of avian demon, he mused. He looked rather eccentric; his attire, though seemingly hastily put together, was done with taste and a sense of pride. Most demons preferred the bare minimum in clothing that would not obstruct ability to cause carnage; they cared not for self image unless they were businessmen or women. This one had respect for itself even as an outlaw like he.

Youko licked his upper lip and stared down at him. He narrowed his piercing eyes slightly.

The demon below him breathed steadily, his chest rising and falling slowly, neck bared as his head was tilted at an uncomfortable angle. He couldn't see his face due to the brim of the hat—or at least it had once been a hat--however he could see the line of his jaw beneath the hair of the sable mane held back from his face with blue thread. The impact of the tree and the branch with had thrown him must have been quite high in velocity, one of the large leathery wings that arched out from his back was bent oddly, and so were both of his arms. Dislocated he'd assume, from the way they hung and twisted.

Youko smirked and crouched down into a squat before him, his hands resting on the demon's leather boots. His tail glided back and forth slowly giving voice to his playfulness. His ears perked, listening carefully and senses alert. It wouldn't do well to be attacked by a passing or accompanying demon at this particular moment, and he was wary of it because it was often the way he operated.

"Did you fall from the sky, little demon? Or were you here for something else…" he purred, pointedly sliding his eyes down the demons crumbled form, taking in the bared skin of his sternum and belly.

Youko had not expected this demon. When his plants had sensed the dark yoki so similar but different to Youko's own and had acted of their own accord, desperate to keep their master safe, he'd been sure that it would have been one of lesser breeding. Everyone knew of his territory and its boundaries, they were wary of it, few got past his traps he laid. But how had this one gotten so close to his hidden treasures without prior warning from any of his other defenses?

Here in this section he kept only his most sacred and rare plants. Which of his plants had yanked him from the sky and flung him against the old dead husk of the once magnificent tree and riddled this body with such odd disproportionate wounds? His spine should have shattered and his brain should have been turned to slush. Yet he suffered only two dislocated arms and an injured wing. He'd been handled with care and delicacy.

He leant forward and placed his hand either side of the dark demon, crawling up the unconscious form and trailing his eyes up his body as he did. It was a nice body, a little thin but the muscles in those awkwardly placed arms spoke of the strength this one was capable of.

White fingers slid under the demon's chin as he straddled his waist and pulled his head up to see what was kept hidden behind the tattered remains of the hat that shielded him from prying eyes.

Something inside Youko shifted and let out a predatory growl. This creature he held was limp and dead looking. He was so very helpless in Youko's hands. But what a pretty thing indeed, this man would have made quite a lot of money if he'd chosen the path of pleasure instead of whatever idiotic career plans had landed him in Youko's clawed hands.

If Youko had seen him at a brothel, he would have taken him. But this wasn't a brothel and he'd quiet literally fallen from the sky and landed before Youko, a present from above.

Dark hair framed the almost sinister face. He had what could be defined as sharp features were slack and empty in sleep. Long dark eyelashes rested against pale cheeks and the slightly parted lips showed the small fangs hidden inside that mouth.

Youko let his fingers unwind from the sides of his face and he fell back to the destroyed trunk of the tree with a thud. Youko tilted his head, expecting him to wake, but he slept on unaware of Youko's existence. His tail flicked in an amused manner and he pushed himself up to stand and step to the side of his catch.

A soft breath of air swirled through the trees, and turned cooled Youko's heated flesh. It was a moment of sweet reprieve from the odd humidity. He pulled his hair from his neck and let the breeze caress and cool him as he stared at this visitor of his with slight interest.

Hmm. What to do with the beautiful body… He couldn't kill it yet. He was curious by nature and he wanted to know how he'd gotten so far, he also wanted to know why his intentions had been.

He wanted to torment him and play a little.

-

He woke suddenly and violently.

His eyes snapped open and then closed again as the freezing water shocked his system into waking. He groaned and rolled onto his stomach, tucking his head under his arm, shielding himself from the cold that suddenly invaded his skin and reached for his core. He shivered and clenched his teeth closed to stop them from clicking together.

He moved his legs to try and rise, but they found no energy to obey his wishes. He couldn't move his hands at all, though he felt them limp and useless, one bent before him and the other down by his side. The sound of his wings scraping against a wall alerted him to the fact that he could not feel them.

Numb. He couldn't feel a thing. Sure he felt the cold with perfect clarity but other sensations seemed to dim in comparison, touch was devoid, sensory perception seemed picky and would only work in certain limbs. He moved, testing his body's obedience, and found it disorientated and sluggish.

Where was the pain he knew he should be feeling… had he been drugged?

"The prince finally wakes…"

He forced himself to look up, past the now sodden dark hair of his that hung in his face and spotted the white shoes and expensive clothes of the very one he had intended to defeat today. He'd failed of course. Failed spectacularly. Ten years. Ten years worth of planning, eight different backup plans in total.

Now he was down to three.

He glared at the space before him; his vision was far too blurry to allow proper sight. His enemy had taken even that from him. He sent a heated look up at the white demon as well as he could and forced his reluctant throat to voice his words. "Kill me already."

Patronizing laughter filled the empty room. Where were they? It was cold and wet and empty. He couldn't feel anything. Defeat weighed him down, sluggish unwilling emotions surged forth. He drowned in the old familiar hate for being contained and restrained, the want for destruction, and the shame.

"Kill you? No, not yet, I have some questions for you. Are you comfortable?" The words had a smirk in them and echoed cruelly in his mind. He was mocking him.

He cursed and slumped, his head hitting a hard surface--stone? Rock? Bark?—and still he felt no pain.

"Fuck you."

He called for the blessed dark and it came up like a surge from beneath him and took him with a force that was absolute and complete. The transition blended and morphed, blissfully he lost sense of time once again.

-

Youko left him in the cell he'd made specifically for him--how special he must feel, Youko rarely kept prisoners—but he brought in a futon to lay the broken body on and after a moment of deliberation he popped the unconscious demons shoulders back into their joints. If he woke up screaming he'd probably have to do it again, he wasn't sure if he'd snagged a nerve or not, but he took the demon's continued sleep as a positive sign.

He couldn't do anything for his wing, in fact he was a little hesitant to do anything more. After all this demon had breached his territory and probably either wanted to kill Youko or take what goods he'd accumulated over the years. Most of it was useless but he preferred to keep it, he tended to hoard things that were expensive but he didn't particularly like. They were good for bribes or distractions if he ever needed them.

Youko saw no reason to be so kind to him after the insult of his appearance.

Treating his captive nicely would probably fuck with his head, if he left him alone for a week perhaps if he even forced the old method of periodical cruelty and then occasional acts of kindness on him, he'd turn a little more compliant when he broke or became strained enough to talk. It depended on how mentally strong he was, and that was something he was interested in testing. Youko could always build his mind up again or influence him in the time he was completely shattered and broken, that way he'd have an agent who would be of great assistance.

Perhaps it was time to expand the business a little.

Youko sighed and poked his hand out of the hole of the entrance to his den, water slicked his hand, the warm drops and bursts of cool and hot wind circled and played with his hair and clothes. It would cool down soon, but until then, Youko would need a bath, he felt dirty and irritable.

He resolved to keep this one for a while and see how things turned out when he woke.

Youko pulled his hand back in from the rain and turned, disappearing into the darkness of the entrance to his underground den, hidden among the more delicate additions of his forest