Title: In Cold, There Can Be Heat; In Darkness, There Can Be Light.
Genre: Canon, Dark!fic, Angst, Smut
Rating: Mature
Characters: Naraku, Kohaku, Kagura, Onigumo
Word Count: 832
Summary: Why don't you tell it like it is, old friend? Explain away the insurmountable reasons you and all souls, mortal and immortal alike, have to push away the past in favor of so shady a future…
Warnings: Yaoi, Dark!Smut, Implied Non-Con, Dub-Con, Implied Pedophilia, Character Death, Incest.
Fragile, physical bodies such as these do not always bend until they break. Sometimes they just snap instantly at the tiniest hint of pressure – very similar to the twig beneath your foot. You creep and you crawl, oh small delicate one, until you return to the bowels of the beast – the beast that is your creator and executioner. I can feel you always, little one, and as you grow weary, as you grow despondent, I can sense the way you long for simpler times long past.
Those times will never come again… Kohaku.
Bright eyes searched the field for a certain, familiar face. Finding what they were searching for, the bright eyes widened, as did the young boy's smile; he was a handsome one, full of spunk and energy and wild-eyed potential. His hair blew behind him as the wind pushed harshly against him, but still the boy went on, tearing through the work fields. Careful of the edge lest he fall into the chilling water of the river, Onigumo ran as fast as his legs could carry him, a single word falling from his lips:
"Otousan!"
In everyone, there is an age of innocence.
If memory serves, I was your age, Kohaku.
The boy slowed as he approached his hardworking father. "Are you nearly finished for the day, Otousan?" he asked, blinking those bright eyes. His smile had faded, and he watched, a curious tone to his stance, as his father stood and dusted himself off with a smile.
"I am finished, my son," the older man responded, patting Onigumo's head; the simple gesture earned a brilliant smile from the son.
How was I to know that there could be other emotions hidden behind such kind eyes?
You glare so defiantly at me, but can you not understand, boy? In death, I gave you life – a life at my side. Surely you would have wasted away beneath the delusions of those slayers you called family – the tyrant you knew as Father, the slut you knew as Sister?
I saved you from a fate worse than death, Kohaku.
I saved you from becoming me.
The boy's breath caught, pupils dilating, eyes widening. They were no longer bright; no, they were dulled with sake and sharpened with fear. Hands roamed where they should not, lips kissed where they should not, tongues ran where they should not. Onigumo tried to recall where his clothes had gone, but the memory would not return. He needed them – this was not a good feeling.
He hated the dark, hated the cold.
It was dark here.
It was cold here.
I wonder still if you watched her die. I can imagine all the things you would say to me if you were here now, Kohaku – the rude names you would call me! No doubt you would try your hand at taking a swing at me. Such a simple human gesture that you have retained…
If only I could have broken you from it. Your anger at Kagura's dissolution is nothing more than a glamorous show of your raging humanity; it is a trait that is too dirty for the likes of you. You could be greatness, Kohaku.
I swear to help you shed that humanity, once and for all.
"Otousan…"
His father sneered down from above. Tears dripped freely across the boy's tough, tanned cheeks as he stared upward, eyes pleading. For a moment, they regained a small amount of light, making the deep red shade of the irises slightly less disturbing.
The moment passed as a deep chuckle resounded; the noise echoed in Onigumo's ears, defining his final moment of innocence as something to be laughed at. The brilliancy left those child's eyes, and it never returned.
Biting his lip, he ceased his tears, and his father comforted him by bringing an end to his romanticized childhood.
I recognize those tears, Kohaku, as I take you long and hard. My fingertips graze your hips, which buck and thrust in rhythm with my own. A scream erupts from your delicate human mouth, that same mouth that has pleasured me time and time again when I was not in the mood for Kagura's attitude or pussy. That same mouth that healed that same Kagura's aching core when you both thought I was unaware.
Naraku is never unaware.
Your screams fill me more than anything else ever could, and your intensity brings me practically to my knees, your ass in my lap. Gripping your hips roughly, I push you away and bring you back down, over and over. Claw all you like, Kohaku.
This is your life's lesson; it comes to all boys when they are about your age.
The world cares nothing for you. You may think that the goal of mortals is to find the warmth in the cold, the love in the unrelenting darkness.
There is no warmth.
There is no love.
There is only heat. Only light. Remember this, Kohaku, and you will forever remember me.