DOWN THE BONE-EATER'S WELL
1: The Kitsune's Jewel

Kurama opened his eyes to a face haloed by bright sunlight. He blinked. Where was he? What had happened? Why was it daytime?

…Why couldn't he move?

"Uh, buddy, are you okay?"

The voice sounded half-incredulous and half-concerned. And unfamiliar.

Pain. Raw. Gnawing at his insides.

That reminded him. He'd been attacked. By a powerful demon. His hoshi no tama…

Gone. In the hands of that human.

Which meant that Kurama had to deal with the demons before he went to retrieve his jewel.

Kurama heard the cracking of bark as he forced himself free of his prison. Snarling, he lashed out with sharp claws at the demon in front of him. Blood sprayed into the air, splattering onto Kurama's already-stained hands.

But… there wasn't enough of it.

Kurama's opponent stumbled back, one hand rising to cover his injured cheek.

"Fuck, you could've blinded me, you know. I kinda get that you're in a bad mood. I mean, I would be too if I were you… but, jeez!"

While Kurama understood the individual words of the demon's dialogue, he couldn't connect them to form a coherent meaning. His body felt strange, weak…

Understandable, since his hoshi no tama was gone.

Kurama wasn't given the chance to make his next move. A fist slammed into the side of his face. Kurama felt his feet leave the ground. He was airborne for a brief moment, body twisting as he tried to land on his feet. But he ended up flat on his stomach instead. The ground smashed into him, driving the air from his lungs and sending a fresh wave of pain rolling along his nerves.

Kurama coughed up blood.

Blood that didn't taste quite right. Didn't taste like his. Where was the bitter tang of demon blood? Barely present.

Before Kurama could stand, he felt a pressure in the small of his back. He grunted, fingers scrabbling against the dirt as he pushed against the weight. But it didn't budge.

Why wasn't he dead yet? Why hadn't the demon killed him?

And where was Hiei?

Hiei.

Another kind of pain hit Kurama. A pain that was purely mental. A pain so much more hurtful than the physical pain he was enduring. And a pain that he'd brought on through his own thoughtless actions.

Forget about Hiei. He could deal with Hiei after he killed the demon he was working with.

Kurama felt pressure on his head, pushing his face into the ground. Shed leaves tickled his nose. Blood and tears soaked into them.

"You gonna stop tryin' to hit me now? 'Cause that's a pretty shitty way to thank someone, you know."

Kurama felt himself slipping further into confusion. He couldn't remember where he was anymore.

"Shuichi!"

The voice was familiar and brought just as much pain with it as Hiei's name had.

Kurama choked on dirt, struggling against the weight of the adult human male keeping him face-down on the ground.

"Don't hurt him, please!"

Kurama scowled. Stupid woman. She was better off just going back to her little hut and leaving him be. He didn't need her help.

He twisted his head, ignoring the sharp tug of his hair, to stare at her through his silver strands. She was trying to reach him but two men held her back.

Stupid woman.

"Oh, shit. He's bleeding all over the place. Is this guy fucking stupid or something? What kind of an idiot still tries to fight when his guts are spilling out all over the place?"

"He's a demon, you stupid boy. Did you not see the fox ears?"

"Uh, well…"

… ... ...

Kurama opened his eyes. Flickering firelight. A blanket covering him. The smell of cooking stew.

Just like that time.

But neither voice was that of the woman.

Kurama shook his head, trying to shake off the cobwebs of painful memories. It had been such a long time ago. No reason to dwell on it now.

He was alive. And not arrogant enough to be ungrateful for that.

"Hey, buddy. Just lettin' you know, if you try to kick my ass again, I'm gonna kick yours. I don't care if you're hurt."

Though the male voice was threatening him with bodily harm, the tone was good-natured. Kurama turned his head to observe the young man kneeling beside him.

Flat black hair. Honey-brown eyes. There was something familiar about him… he looked like that man… but not the same. A relative, Kurama guessed. Son, maybe.

His clothes caught Kurama's eye. He'd never seen the style before. Form-fitting and dyed an unflattering shade of green. How odd.

"Drink this."

Kurama barely had time to open his mouth before the second person spilled warm, strongly-scented broth into it. Kurama swallowed, then began to cough.

Disgusting human medicine. Still, he wouldn't refuse. He needed whatever help he could get.

Because his hoshi no tama was still gone.

He lifted his hand from beneath the blanket to wipe his mouth with his sleeve before turning his attention from the old lady back to the male.

"Where is my hoshi no tama?" he asked weakly.

"What?" the young man asked, dumbfounded.

"My jewel," Kurama hissed. "I gave it to a man from this village. Where is he?"

The young man was beginning to look decidedly uncomfortable, his eyes shifting from Kurama to the old lady kneeling on his other side.

"He's not talkin' about…" The young man gestured toward his chest. "…That jewel? The one the demon took from me?"

The old lady nodded, her expression as bleak as a dry well.

"For certain," she said.