See chapter I for disclaimer and warnings. Oh, and Kurama may seem a little out of character, but he has a really good excuse. Try to imagine yourself in his shoes.
Thanks to SuicidalxDolly and Dreaming-endlessly for reviewing. I was going to put up this chapter yesterday, but I finished it literally 3 hours before I got laid off. Bummer. So I decided to get drunk instead. Tomorrow I get to work on my resume. Too bad that isn't as much fun as cranking out fan fiction.
Part II: Rebirth
Giggling and gasping.
What a wonderful sound to hear first thing in the morning, he mused as his fingers danced over his new bride's ribs, tickling her warm, naked body.
"Ah ha ha ha stop, Kurama!"she managed between gasped breaths.
"Only if you say it first, Kagome."
"No, you fiend!"
"Alright then, prepare yourself for…the claw!" he warned, raising his right hand, fingers splayed and curled into the shape of a claw. For any normal being who hadn't seen real claws on a youkai or wasn't extraordinarily ticklish, it wouldn't have been so threatening. But for the priestess this was sheer terror.
"No! Anything but that!"
"I can't hear you." The claw struck, curling around the back of her knee and viciously attacking the silky smooth skin, making the miko shriek and buck in an unsuccessful attempt to get away from him. "The claw has claimed yet another fair maiden as its victim. There is no escaping…unless…the fair maiden was to tell a certain fox champion the magic words that allow him to dispel the claw."
"Okay, okay…I give," she screamed, "just…hahaha…cut it out already!"
With a triumphant smirk, Kurama sat back, eyeing her expectantly. She pouted.
"Cheater."
"The claw has only been temporarily defeated. It could come back at any moment to devour the maiden…"
She threw her hands up in a placating gesture to fend him off, then sucked in a deep breath and exhaled in a deep sigh of feigned exasperation. "Please, master kitsune…"
"Come on, Kagome, you can do better than that. You have to make it believable. Do the eyes. And you forgot the benevolent part."
"Grrr…"
The claw made an appearance.
Sufficiently cowed, the priestess's eyes immediately eyes grew wide and shiny and her lips parted, quivering slightly. His wife was very, very good at this.
"Oh please, great and benevolent master kitsune-sama, this poor maiden suffers the most terribly wicked dreams at night that cause me to moan embarrassingly in my sleep and wake up hot and wet in strange places. I fear the village priestess will hear of it and proclaim me possessed by a youkai! I am afraid the only way to stop the dreams is to act them out. Won't you help a poor humble girl, mighty kitsune-sama?"
Kurama could clearly see the evidence of her amusement lurking around the corners of her mouth by the time she finished, but ignored it as his eyes lightened to gold and he regally drew himself up to play the part. "And just what is it that you dream of, little maiden?" he inquired, voice deep and husky.
Kagome, ever a good sport, fell deeper into character with a blush as she cast her eyes down shyly. "Well, you see, I'm too embarrassed to say it aloud. It's just too scandalous, and I am so shy," she informed him while fiddling nervously with a loose thread from the top sheet she bashfully clutched to her chest like a security blanket.
Oh yes, she was very good at this indeed. Unfortunately, the coy veneer was ruined by the shrewd glint in her eyes.
His smirk widened into a somewhat predatory smile. "You may whisper it in my ear if you wish, little maiden."
The 'maiden' unwound herself from the sheets and scooted forward into his lap to do just that. He felt his whole body shiver right down to his toes when she leaned in and brushed his hair away from his ear, and again when she whispered her dirty little secrets to him.
As any good 'mighty and benevolent kitsune' would do, Kurama selflessly obliged her.
An hour or so later, Kagome snickered to herself. "If someone would have told me you were such an incorrigible rascal when we first met, I would have laughed in their face," she told him when he finally leaned back and licked his lips clean of the last bit of whipped cream.
He chuckled as he moved to examine the love bites she left on his hip, chest and inner thighs. "This coming from the biter of the relationship." One of the purplish bruises had actual teeth marks around the edges.
Narrowed, green eyes slid in her direction, eyeballing the miko speculatively. "Are you sure you're not a cannibal?"
His bride laughed and opened her arms for him. "Oh, come here, you big baby."
And Kurama was happy, truly happy, maybe for the first time in his considerably long, jaded life. He finally found someone who he could be himself (or was it selves?) with. It was so nice to not have to pretend.
Some silent moments passed in which they simply enjoyed each other's company and delighted in gentle touches on smooth skin and trading soft indulgent kisses.
Then, "Kurama, I think I should talk to Koenma about crossing into Makai soon."
The demifox sighed, reluctant to take up this conversation again. "I really don't want you going there, Kagome. Even if we ignore the fact that the Makai is inhabited by dangerous youkai, all the rebellions and political upheaval going on now is turning the place into an even more volatile powder keg than it was before. A human priestess with ties to Reikai and Youko Kurama wandering around amid all the violence and unrest is just asking for trouble."
"I know, dear, but what else can I do? I have to find the last jewel shard and the Makai is the only place I haven't searched. Naraku bit the dust two years ago, but this thing keeps drawing youkai to it. How many demons have come after it in the last two years? How many youkai have we had to kill or banish? Sixty? Seventy? It's only escalating now that the word is out that the Shikon Jewel is back. Eventually we'll risk either exposure, or some innocent will get caught in the crosshairs and killed. I think it's time for me to go on the offensive and get rid of this thing for once and for all, Kurama. You know I'm right."
She was wrong.
One month later they were accidentally transported right into the middle of a bloody riot. They'd gotten separated in the mêlée. From there it all went downhill fast. He heard her voice scream his name but couldn't see where she was, couldn't smell her in the midst of the sweaty, blood-drenched throng. He felt the surge of her ki. Then there was nothing.
And when it was done, all that was left was an incomplete jewel bathed in miko blood and a kitsune driven half mad with grief. None, save he, survived. That was the riot that ended the civil war in Makai. As his legend grew and was embellished, he became known not only as 'The King of Thieves,' but as 'The Butcher of Reikai' as well.
A loud clang had Kurama bolting upright in his chair. He frowned at the feel of dried drool on his chin. Wiping it off with his sleeve, he slowly came alert to his surroundings. Did he dream that sound? He supposed it was possible since it was so eerily similar to the sounds of that last battle. His whole body was wound up like a spring from that dream. The sweet memories and the terror and emptiness that followed clenched his gut and closed up his throat.
The clock on the wall above him read 5:12 am.
Straining his ears for any noise that could indicate he had imagined the sound, Kurama sniffed in every direction. There were no foreign scents in the air, just the scents of cleaning solvents, machinery, the familiar smells of the only two technicians allowed access to this part of the lab, and himself. He was prepared to pass it off as either a stress induced auditory hallucination or a remnant of his haunting dream when the sound hammered at his eardrums once more.
Clang
There it was again. There was no way he could have imagined that. The fox was pretty sure he was awake as well since his dreams always had a fuzzy quality and the colors were usually skewed.
Rounding a bank of computers and monitors that obstructed his full view of Kagome, Kurama stared at the scene that he was presented with in disbelief.
There was Hoko, hacking away at the chamber glass with the emergency axe. Obviously frustrated that she couldn't penetrate the impervious barrier, the next swing was aimed at one of the hoses leading into the tank that supplied a steady exchange of clean fluid and nutrients.
Galvanized by a sudden blinding rage, Kurama produced his whip in the blink of an eye and used it to rip the axe out of Hoko's hands. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?!"
Never having heard such a booming, harsh tone from the soft-spoken kitsune, and genuinely shocked by his unexpected use of profanity, Hoko froze mid-pivot.
Kurama gaped at her appearance. The disheveled tanuki hanyou was clearly out of control. She looked almost as wrecked as he did, standing there in her pajamas with her short black and tan hair all out of whack, and panting from exertion. Forcing down the urge to decapitate her on the spot for daring to so much as lift a hostile finger in his wife's direction, he felt oddly compelled to know why Hoko suddenly flipped out. "Explain yourself!" he demanded.
"Why do you do it? Why do you torture yourself every night over that…that human?! Why can't you see there are others that care about you and just move on?"
Kurama blinked. That's what this was all about? Jealousy? She was jealous that he was still devoted to his wife? Unreal. He never figured the normally sedate hanyou would flip out like that simply because she envied Kagome's place in his heart.
Well, it didn't matter what the reason, she could not be trusted and had to go.
Brandishing his whip, Kurama was about to open his mouth and demand she leave and never return when Hoko suddenly screamed in agony, surprising him that she could achieve such a high pitch. Her skin mysteriously started to sizzle and smoke. Pustules erupted on the exposed surfaces of her hands, face and bare feet. The tank was emitting an ominous pink glow that reached out and engulfed the female technician.
Hoko barely managed to hop away and dart for the exit, but Kurama hardly noticed her escape, for Kagome's eyes popped open and she began to thrash wildly in the fluid, hitting hard off the sides of the enclosure. Kurama raced for the chamber, frantically pushing buttons on the keypad and twisting valves at the base as his heart leapt into his throat and adrenaline threatened to make him sick.
With the whining sound of rusted gears in action for the first time in just over two decades, the mechanism that lifted the outer shell back engaged, dumping hundreds of gallons of goopy liquid onto the floor, and a waterlogged miko came tumbling out.
Quick as lightning, Kurama moved, catching her before she could impact on the vomit colored linoleum. She was so slippery he almost dropped her. Ecstatic, and truthfully a bit apprehensive, he sunk to the ground, cradling her as he slowly extracted the long breathing tube. He waited while she coughed and gagged, wincing in sympathy since he knew how uncomfortable that must be. Her throat was most likely raw. His heart threatening to pound right out of his chest and he struggled to keep it together.
Eventually the coughing fit slowed and she settled into a dry wheeze. Kurama carefully wiped her nose and mouth clear with his palm so she wouldn't unintentionally inhale any of the gooey, clingy residue which might cause her to choke all over again. At the touch, her brow furrowed and her eyes opened, causing his breath to catch in his throat.
Her irises were not their usual dusky blue-gray.
They were brilliant pink.
It took a few seconds to for her eyes to focus, unaccustomed as they were to light after years in a suspended state. She blinked up at him. "Ku…rama?" It was a raspy whisper that grated his sensitive ears, yet at the same time it was the most beautiful sound in the world. The smile that bloomed across his face radiated a joy he doubted he would ever feel again and he had to hold himself back from crushing her up against him.
Moving slowly, stiffly and with apparent confusion, Kagome glanced down at herself.
"Why am I naked…and covered in…," she held her hand up to her face and spread her fingers, looking baffled at the viscous that webbed between each digit, "…lube?"