Author's Note to Readers on F a n f i c t i o n . n e t:

I have moved to AdultFanFiction . n e t under the pen name "Kita Kitsune".

This fic is the first update on that account, so I figured I'd post it here so you guys know where I went.

However, it should be noted that what I have posted here is only the first part of this fanfiction. The full version can be found listed on my AdultFanfiction account page.

I have recently realized that (at this point in my life, at least) I don't have the patience (or time) to write long saga fics. Perhaps Boku-tachi no Kisetsu will be finished in the future, perhaps not. Same goes for Tatakoe High.

At any rate I will make an attempt to keep writing, as the Yuu Yuu Hakusho characters are still quite dear to my heart. This will be the last update for a long while on this account, as most of these stories are the result of my younger teenage years, and I believe I should keep this account's status limited to the relative 'innocence' of those years. As I move on into adulthood, and so on and so forth--...in short, look to the AdultFanfiction . n e t account listed as my homepage for any and all updates.

I hope you are all doing well (especially my old friends shadow priestess, Volpe Di Spirito, Vampire Ifurita, Kooriya Yui, Agent Dark Moose, Queen of the Paperclips, Nite Nite, fugen and many many others that I cannot quite place usernames to, at the moment), and will visit me at this new site. Reviews are still quite welcome, as they're worth silver to me.

(By the by, check out their fics! Most (if not all) of the people mentioned above are absolutely wonderful writers.)

Sorry, again, for disappearing, from here... but in around six months I won't be a teenager anymore, and thought it was time for a change. Love you all, and such. Good luck in your endeavors, and have a healthy, happy New Year in 2008.

(As a side-note, check out the site below, too... )

h t t p / b l u e u t o p i a h . l i v e j o u r n a l

. c o m / 5 5 5 9 4 . h t m l # c u t i d 1

"-Kita-chan peace out n.n"

-Kita :3

Disclaimer: I don't own Yuu Yuu Hakusho, or any of its characters. Those belong to Yoshihiro Togashi-sama, who made a lot more out of them than I ever could have. ;; I just do fanfiction for fun, and earn no monetary rewards for writing it. Reviews are, of course, worth as much as silver.

Title: Wild

Anime: Yuu Yuu Hakusho

Pairing: KuramaxHiei

Warning: Slight foreplay, oral, anal lemon (in the full version, which this is not)

Author: Kita Kitsune

Date: Tuesday(fire-day!) December 18, 2007

Reason: This is a response to Lady Aqualyne's challenge for a 'thunderstorm fic' involving Kurama. I hope it fits the bill! (The very last part is directly quoted from the English dub of the anime… I couldn't find the Japanese version with subtitles online, and all my YYH DVDs are at college, while I'm at home. x.x Mou )

Rain.

Its purpose, the giving of life—its dementia, the taking of life.

Relieving the thirst of a dying man.

Stealing the breath of a drowning man.

Drizzles, showers, torrents, storms, hurricanes, tornadoes, tsunamis…

Such things were all too common in the Makai.

The power of rain…

Amidst the shadows cast by the dark hanging clouds above, a lone fox made his way, coat appearing almost ashen-grey with the lack of light to show off its luster. Electricity sparked through the air, threading through the delicate fur and lining his entire being with a warm hum that filled the silvery fur with charges of static. The forest was alive, even here on this isolated island where so many demons went to die—no. Here they came to live, the bloodthirstiness in their veins from centuries of inbreeding and battle spurring them on to at least find an 'honorable' end in one of the innumerable casualties associated with the Ankoku Buujutsukai.

The kitsune's tails flicked behind him, vulpine depths narrowing as his senses expanded themselves, examining the change in climate—a storm was near. That silvery head tipped back, just in time to see a silent fork of lightning dash across the sky. Kurama would have grinned, were he not currently in a form that forbade such facial expressions. In response to the sudden flicker, a tail or two stiffened—ahhh, storms in the Makai were creatures to behold, and even as this half-world greatly lacked the power of those behemoth swirls of destruction… the feeling lingering in the air was the same.

The same menacing static and stench of blood characteristic of Makai.

One particularly merciless one had hit when he was a small kit, huddled with his mother, brothers and sisters in the safety of their den. Kurama always had been the most curious of them, and he'd snuck from beneath the protective red tail of their mother to dart outside, despite her warning bark. He had stood at the entrance of the den, small paws sinking into the muddy ground softened by the torrential rains. Dark clouds had lit up with unnatural lighting, a loud crash of thunder striking suddenly with no warning—causing him to jump--and a huge bolt of lightning tore into an ancient tree not far away. Transfixed, he had watched as the trunk smoldered (despite the hurricane-force rain) the great master of the forest at last losing its fight with gravity as the two split sides groaned, drooping towards the ground in defeat like strips of the flesh of a wounded animal hanging lifelessly from the maw of a particularly hungry wolf.

Many small creatures and birds streamed from the dead giant, smelling the smoke of the huge scorch that had rent the massive tree's trunk in twain… and Kurama shuddered, suddenly aware of the cold wet sensation that had drenched him during his observation. The silver kit's wide eyes did not move from the spot of the vanquished tree, however—until a sudden bump to his neck nearly made him jump five feet in the air, ears immediately perking and his hackles raising, preparing to—oh. He blinked, again, up at his dark papa, red eyes of the black adult far above scrutinizing him with something almost akin to displeasure. Immediately those silvery stiffened audits flattened out to the sides at the silent chastise, and as his father nudged him once more with his nose, the daring little kit quietly scurried back into the warm safety of the den.

That night, however… for some reason, ever since that dark night over a thousand years ago, thunder and lightning had always held a peculiar hold over his attention. Even now, the centuries-older silver fox watched as darkness gathered overhead, cracks of electricity eliciting something almost like a tremor over the small vulpine form. Here his senses were all more acute… he could smell the rain, detect the slightest variances in the dark clouds overhead, hear the rumble of low thunder as the storm rolled in over the ocean that surrounded them on all sides, feel the ground beneath his paws quiver as if in expectation of the imminent downpour, taste the electricity throughout his entire being…

He shook his head.

No… no.

There were matches tomorrow—life-threatening matches, fights that would determine whether he would go home to Shiori, or merely leave a gap in her life as her memories were erased by Koenma… he was a demon, after all. If he died here, it would be nothing new—but in light of his services as a tantei, Koenma had quietly informed him that if he did, indeed, die… Shiori would not be burdened with mourning for a son who had—unknown to her--died in the most unnatural of ways.

Team Uraotogi…

Shishiwakamaru, the leader, and swordsman.

Uraurashima, the sinister-looking boy with the fishing pole.

Kuromomotaro, the tall one with an Ace of Spades upon his headband.

Makintaro, the dark-skinned one.

Onji, the old man.

Those would be their adversaries tomorrow… and judging by how fast they had ripped through their competition in the last bout before the semi-finals—they would be anything but easy. It was also a high possibility that Yuusuke and the Masked Fighter would not return in time to fight—they had stormed out of Team Urameshi's bunker in the stadium seeming ripe to let off some steam by fighting each other… but it had been hours, by now. The sun was close to setting, and with the clouds blocking its few beams of light one could easily mistake it for the dead of night, already.

Those vulpine depths quietly fell shut, even as every nerve was struck alight as another groan of thunder rolled out from the restless skies above. At least for now, he could live… and what kind of fox would he be if he didn't rejoice in that existence? Tomorrow he could die… and an echoing clap of thunder seemed to assent to his inner musing, and at the bolt of lightning that followed tightly on the heels of the sound the silver being had already taken off in a sudden sprint through the trees.

He didn't know where he was racing to, per se. The only sensation he was sure of was the cool ground beneath as his paws drummed over the earth, quick steps maneuvering him around floral obstacles—yes, he could have commanded them to part, but where was the fun in that? He was racing against the forest—faster and faster, spurred on by the abrupt flashes of light and the growling thunder that rolled out upon its surroundings, seeming to reverberate in the very dirt beneath the kitsune's speedy pace. Dodging, leaping around quicksand and off of tree trunks, over fallen logs—faster, and faster. That demonic nucleus buried deep within his chest thrummed wildly, senses taken by the sheer exhilaration of being lost in this form—his original form, before he had become trained enough to assume the humanoid guise of Youko.

His paws beat on the ground furiously as the force behind them intensified—faster, faster! The surrounding greenery became a dark blur, the light further diminishing as he disappeared into the uncharted territory of the island, far, far away from the populated areas of the tournament rings, hotel and harbor. He himself was a simple smear of silver against the dark green backdrop of the woods—a place that spoke not only to his soul, but soothed his ki into an easy familiarity. Suddenly he broke free of the close cluster of trees, the sleek silver form leaping across a sudden ravine that came upon him. He landed neatly, still running to keep his momentum, until, in another few moments---he was forced to stop.

Before him lay the high, rocky cliffs that bordered the crashing sea, white foam riding the crests of the waves as they continuously pounded against the unforgiving wall of stone that met their determined assault. He had run clear to the other side of the island.

Continued elsewhere...