My Little Kurama: Battling the Darkness

Chapter One

"Kurama, there's a pony in the courtyard."
In a well-ordered universe, there are rules and balances regarding the proper way to start a conversation. "There's a pony in the courtyard" brings conversation to a level that is terribly disconcerting before even having to say hello.

Kurama reflected on this and leaned away from his desk, shuffling through files in a quietly desperate attempt to distract himself from the question he inevitably had to ask.

"What?"

"Well, it's pastel, and it's got wings on, but it's a pony." Chuu shifted uncomfortably in front of the long desk where Kurama ran Gandara's affairs of state. Yomi may very well rule the place, but Kurama made sure the kingdom and its colonies ran like a finely tuned clock. Rarely anything got past his notice, so 'ponies with wings on,' were in the general area of miffed incredulity. Really, he had no time for pranks.

He stared hard at Chuu, who began to rock from one foot to the other.

"Look, it's like this. Me an' Jin an' Shishi were just sitting there, minding our own business-"

"You mean standing there guarding the alchemy tower like I ordered you to," Kurama interjected smoothly, turning back to his paperwork and keeping half an ear on the explanation.

"Yeah, exactly that. We were doing that and there's a flash of light, see, and then we all sort of got all 'what?' and Shishi started yelling and pointing and there was this pinky-blue thing in the courtyard. So we all went down-'

"Leaving your posts unmanned and the alchemy tower open for just anyone to walk into," Kurama murmured, dashing out lines on a page with red ink. Chuu winced at this but rallied.

"Yeah, so, we go down there and the pinky-blue thing is kind of this..." Chuu fumbled here, who was having an internal debate as to whether he was more distressed about telling Kurama that there was an unidentified creature in the palace, or that he was embarrassed over being the one grown demon having to tell the bossman about the moderately sparkly pink and blue winged pony from a magical land was demanding an audience.

"Er," he choked, looking from a disinterested Kurama to his shoes. "Well, anyway, her name's Firefly and she wants to talk to you."

Kurama carefully set down the document that had been taking up less of his attention than he'd wanted, clasped his hands together, and smiled across the desk at Chuu.

"The pink and blue pastel pony with wings on is named Firefly and she wants to talk to me?" He summarized, his voice at that level of sweet and interested that meant someone was likely to get drawn and quartered.

"Er... yes."

"The pink pony," Kurama said again, his voice now edged with what members of Gandara's army referred to in respectful and terrified terms as 'the Fox Tone,' "Would like to speak with me."

"Well," Chuu fumbled. Diplomacy wasn't his thing, honestly. He'd only been sent because Jin and Shishi insisted that he was the one least likely to get ripped to pieces and spread over some community co-op garden in the human world. Apparently, Kurama liked him. This seemed, given the current circumstances, wrong. And it was wrong in any circumstances. Kurama didn't like anybody. He'd stopped liking people at least eighty years past. Really, he'd been much nicer when he had been more human.

But, even in small amounts liquor made Chuu a brave demon, and he'd swigged half a bottle of his best before entering The Office.

"Actually," he said miserably, "she demanded it."

All was not well in Ponyland. Until recently, life had gone on as normal; the ponies lived and played their soft-cornered lives as they always did, joined usually by Spike and an assortment of the other inhabitants of Dream Castle and Flutter Valley. It had been Wind Whistler and Galaxy who first noticed that things weren't... quite right.

It was so subtle, at the beginning. The winds had gotten a bit more fierce, rain more frequent. Younger ponies had complained, mostly about the spring festival being ruined by the cruel whims of fate and clouds, but not much commentary had passed otherwise.

Then, the clouds had come, but hadn't gone away. After weeks of no sun, even the flutter ponies, usually so fearless and confident in their magic, hadn't dared stray from their homes. Thunder and lightning growled and flashed over Dream Valley, though no rain came. Only darkness.

"We'll have to send someone for help," Galaxy said, staring up as if she could pierce the clouds with her sight, so desperate she was to see the stars again. Wind Whistler shuddered. Their last human companions had aged and died years ago.

In the timelessness of Dream Valley, the only regret was ever making mortal friends. No one spoke of funerals here; death was but a distant nightmare to the ponies, glimpsed only in the still bodies of fallen friends, gone on to that hazy, indistinct 'better place,' though no one could imagine a place any better than Dream Valley.

"But go where?" Wind Whistler asked. "Once, we had Meagan and the Pendant. Other times, the Golden Horseshoes. Now even the Flutter Ponies' magic cannot dispel this ill-omened sky. Who can we go to for help?"

Galaxy continued to stare into the roiling darkness, horn glowing as her intuition worked its magic. "To the ones that sent the darkness," she said finally, her voice like a distant dream. "Send Firefly west, to the metal palace beyond the distant mountains."

Wind Whistler pranced, aghast. "What? Alone? You cannot mean that; it is far too dangerous!" She pulled back when Galaxy stomped a very final hoof on the cobbles.

There was silence. Wind Whistler bowed her head. Once, this would have been decided by committee. Now, it seemed that Galaxy ran the circus. Wind Whistler could feel the resentment inside her, and silenced, letting it boil.

"Send Firefly," Galaxy said again. "She is quick and brave. After all, she was the one who brought us Megan. She may be lucky again."

"What if she fails?" Wind Whistler asked, her voice full of false timidity.

"I have the feeling she will not. Give her the pendant; it must be our token of goodwill."

Wind Whistler repressed the urge to twitch. The Pendant? That was like saying, "Here, take the Golden Horseshoes and toss them over that cliff there." But, she had no choice but to obey. Without the other ponies to back her up, she was a force of one against Galaxy, whose magic was becoming absolute. Wind Whistler bowed her head, and turned to do her task, refusing to notice how the celestial marking on Galaxy's rump had begun, slowly, to turn.

In the Courtyard, Kurama sat cross-legged in front of the pony- sorry, Pegasus Pony, designated Firefly. He was having odd thoughts as the candy-colored creature babbled and paced, tossing her overlarge head and stamping disturbingly undetailed hooves.

Only children think horses look like this, he thought, bracing his chin on his hands, elbows on knees. She was on now about the History of Ponyland and the Exodus from Flutter Valley. He'd lost track somewhere when she'd explained that the non-child friendly named Licketysplit had run away after tripping during rehearsal for the Spring Festival.

Horses don't have Spring Festivals, he mused on that tangent. Not that I know of, anyway. They all just run around and eat hay. Sometimes we eat them. However, though Firefly looked like she had been molded out of marzipan and fondant, Kurama wouldn't want to try sinking his teeth into one of her kind. After the first thousand years of life, you begin to realize the benefits of good dental hygiene. He didn't want to be the only demon around pushing three thousand with cavities from sugar ponies.

"And now the clouds won't go away so Wind Whistler said I have to find help and I found you and have this."

It was beautiful. Only in retrospect, of course, but it was a beautiful on par with Yuusuke, where you couldn't really tell if it was expert planning or just pure dumb luck that got things to happen his way all the time. It was like that, apparently, with Firefly. When she swung her bloated, malformed head in Kurama's direction, a bright red heart-shaped pendant went sailing through the air and over his head, pausing to stick jauntily around one fox-like ear until it slipped down around his neck.

There was a flash of light, the smell of pink, and then, the world went... bigger.

Someone behind him sounded like they were stifling a laugh. Kurama looked at his hands.

Eventually, something like this had to happen.

"Chuu," he said, holding out a hand and ignoring the changed timbre of his own voice. "Give me some of that wine you have.

Someone snorted.

Someone said, "Are you sure you're old enough?" Probably Jin. His ears were ringing.

Kurama decided it was best to put the request in more direct terms. "Give me. The fucking wine." A bottle was placed obediently in his hand. The pony gasped at his inflammatory language. Kurama leaned back and took a generous gulp of the heavy wine, coughed once into his free hand, and gave the bottle back. "Thank you. How bad is it?"

"Well, we're gonna need to find you some new clothes," Chuu said, corking the bottle with some reverence and placing it in his belt.

"Get me something old of Shura's. Make sure it has been washed and pressed, please. Jin, Shishi, take our guest to the clean cells. Leave some water and, what do you eat?" The last was directed at Firefly, whose massive eyes were fixed on him in a glazed expression of horror and contrition.

"Uh, apples are okay," she managed.

Kurama waved a hand. "Strike that and take her to the arboretum. I'm going to my office." He shifted slightly, adjusted his now far too large jacket around himself, and stalked across the courtyard. He tried not to let his ego drag as much as he too-long tail now was.

Shura's clothes fit well enough that they could have been tailored, which was a blessing. Kurama had gotten used to his official uniform (even if it did seem a little militaristic for a country whose main dealings were in exported staples) and felt vulnerable without it. The uniform was the overt symbol of his official capacity and lack of power. He was not the king, but he had just enough influence to make people fear, guess, and treat him nicely just in case Yomi and Shura met unfortunate ends. It, and the liquor, made him feel far more comfortable than he would have under normal circumstances.

"So," he murmured, catching his reflection in the window. "This is what it feels like to be a child."

His hair had gone red again. Not the ambiguous, dark red he'd worn in his human form, but the wild red of foxfur he'd had when he was far too young to remember. He'd never been able to take a humanoid form in his earliest years - the years he seemed to inhabit now - but this is what he'd look like had he the ability. Sharp features in a childish frame, something not-quite-human in the eyes, but wildly demonstrated in the ears and tail.

He looked like a goddamn Hello Kitty mascot. He scowled. The expression was absolutely precious and he hated it. He couldn't do anything that wasn't cute now. It was awful.

Firefly shifted nervously behind him.

"And I cannot remove the pendant, yes?"

"Um," the pegasus looked down, ashamed. "Y-yeah. That's right."

He sighed, closed his eyes, and turned to face the pony.

"And the conditions of this arrangement are that I accompany you to this 'Dream Valley' in order to... make the sun come back. Is that correct?" He lifted an eyebrow. Firefly turned her head quizzically and glanced at Jin, who nodded at her.

"Yeah. Right."

"Upon which time your... Galaxy will perform some magic that will remove the pendant's hold on me and allow me to revert to my normal body."

The pony nodded. Kurama sighed again.

"I suppose at this juncture I have no choice to comply. Jin," the Wind Master perked up, grinning toothily at him. Kurama repressed a smirk. "Touya is my second in command until I return. Take your orders from him." Touya, who had wandered in to get a glimpse of the amazing candy pony, snickered. Kurama nodded, and turned to Firefly.

The pony stood, and, with as much dignity as he could muster, Kurama climbed onto her back. He shrugged at his assembled team. "Guess I'll see you. Pray I don't go insane."

With that, neon-pink pony and somberly clad fox child sped off into the night, through the darkness to save Ponyland.

AN-
No, I don't know why I'm doing this. Maybe it's because of TVTropes. Maybe because I needed to crossover something really stupid. Maybe I wanted to write pony-filled melodrama (like a jelly donut, only more angst!)

Maybe because I love to torture Kurama.
Yeah. Thinking it's the last one there.