Hello there! Here's yet another chapter to A chance Reunion!
Disclaimer: I got this contract saying that I owned 'em, but it was just a fake.
(*Kuronue . . . Kuronue. . . . *)
"Just a few minutes more. . . . "
(*Kuronue, what's going on?*)
"I want to sleep a little bit more, that's what's going on!!"
(*Not what I meant. . . . *)
"Huh? What do you mean then?"
(*KURONUE!!*)
"Huh? What? Ow!!"
Kuronue sat up straight, ramming his head into Kurama's, who just happened to be standing over him. Both kitsune and chimera reeled away from each other, clutching at their heads. Kuronue groaned, and blinked a few times, his brain now trying to think past a major headache. So, naturally, he said the first thing that came to his mind.
"Shit, Shuichi, you have a hard head!!"
"You're the one with the hard head, and I'm Kurama, remember?"
"Oh, yeah," Kuronue said, finally seeing the person in front of him. Kurama had turned back into his human form, but he definitely looked worse for the wear. His red hair hung limp about his shoulders, caked with grime and dirt. His face was no better. The only features you could make out were his bright green eyes, although the life that was usually in them seemed to have gone out. His clothes were torn as well as dirty, and he sustained several cuts, some still bleeding and some clotted up with dry blood and grime. Kuronue looked over his friend with a concerned gleam in his eyes.
"What?" Kurama asked, which, in Kuronue's opinion, was the stupidest question he could have asked at that moment.
"What have you done to yourself?" Kuronue asked him, walking in circles about his friend and tenderly touching a particularly bad cut or one that looked as though it were infected. Then he looked his friend in the eyes, and touched a finger to Kurama's cheek. He trailed it down through the grime, and then brought it up to show Kurama. He shrugged.
"I guess I am a bit dirty," he said.
"Kurama, what's with you?" Kuronue asked. "You've never let yourself get this dirty before. And all these wounds! They'll get you sick if you don't get them treated!!"
"Kuronue, you sound just like-" Kurama broke off, and turned away, but not before Kuronue heard him mutter. "Like 'Kassan, when she still cared about me."
"That's what this is about," Kuronue said, something nagging at the back of his mind. There was something he needed to tell Kurama about Shiori, if he could only remember it.
"What?"
"You're . . . not yourself ever since Shiori. . . . "
"Shut up!!"
"Kurama, look at what you've done to yourself!!" Kurama paused for a moment. Then he looked down at his tattered clothing, and ran his own finger down his cheek, picking up another trail of grime. "See, Kurama?" Kuronue's tone was pleading.
"Kuronue. . . . " Kurama said.
"You get yourself cleaned up while I try and remember what happened to me," Kuronue said. Kurama nodded, and left to take a shower.
Kuronue walked into the kitchen, which was the last place he remembered being. There was something important that he needed to tell Kurama about Shiori, but he couldn't for the life of him remember what it was. He walked into the kitchen to see cardboard covering a broken window above one of the counters . . .
(Shiori cowers against the counter, wondering why this demon facing her wants to bring up such painful memories of the youkai she used to call her son.)
Kuronue leaned against the counter. It was coming back to him. Slowly, but surely, he was remembering what had happened.
("Watch out!!" Kuronue yells, but it is too late. Shiori falls, and he catches her. He looks around wildly. "Where are you?" he demands. "Show your face you coward!!")
Kuronue frowned. Someone had attacked Shiori. That was bound to make Kurama angry. Then again, maybe he didn't care. (Think about who you're talking about,) he scolded himself.
(A laugh rings out, and something hits Kuronue on the head, knocking him. He drops Shiori as he falls to the floor.)
Kuronue's eyes grew wide. (And that was why it was hard to remember!!) he thought. He walked over to the trashcan. Under the lid there were several pieces of glass. Kuronue frowned. It appeared that everything he remembered was correct. He wondered why in the world Shiori had been kidnapped. He wondered where in the world anyone could have taken her.
"Damn them!" he whispered fiercely. "Damn them, damn them, damn them!!"
"Kuronue?"
"Jeroun!"
"What in the world happened here?"
"Bad, bad, bad," Kuronue whispered as his friend took a seat. "Shiori's been kidnapped by someone."
"NANI?!?!" Jeroun yelled. Kuronue clapped a hand over his mouth.
"Try and keep it down, will you?"
"Gomen," Jeroun said. "But how . . . why?"
"I don't know," Kuronue said. "And I'm not sure what we're going to do."
"Kurama?"
"I don't know if he even cares anymore," Kuronue said. "That rejection . . . it's been hard on him." Kuronue winced, remembering the scene earlier.
"Hard," Jeroun said, pausing as though he were letting the word roll over his tongue. "Hard . . . what exactly do you mean by that?"
"Kuronue? Jeroun?" Both Kuronue and Jeroun looked up to see Shuichi in the doorway to the kitchen. He looked cleaner than he had this morning, having bathed and changed clothes. His hair was bright red once again, and tied back to keep it out of his face. He wore a pair of jeans and a white T- shirt. You could see the multiple cuts on his arms because of the T-shirt. Most of them looked better, having had the dirt cleaned out of them, but a few looked as though infection had already set in. And Kurama had made no move to bandage any of them. Jeroun looked over at Kuronue. Kuronue raised his eyebrows and nodded. Jeroun swallowed hard.
"Like that, okay," Jeroun said, nervously turning his head away. That was what Kuronue had meant by "hard."
"Kurama," Kuronue said sternly. "I thought we agreed that you'd clean yourself up." Kurama shrugged.
"I took a shower," he said. "Pulled back my hair and changed my clothes. What more do you want me to do?" Kuronue got up and walked over to the kitsune.
"How about you clean your wounds?" Kuronue suggested, being as patient with Kurama as he could be. Kurama looked at the cuts on his arms.
"These?" he asked. "These are nothing. They're just scratches."
"Kurama. . . . " Kuronue growled.
"Kuronue?" Kurama said nervously as Kuronue took Kurama by the shoulders and marched him up the stairs to the bathroom to clean his wounds, plainly ignoring the protesting "eep"s emitting from Kurama's mouth.
Shiori groaned softly as she came to. (Where am I?) she wondered as she looked around. (The last thing I remember was being in my kitchen with that Kuronue. . . . ) Whatever she was in, it was not her kitchen. The walls were made of old-looking gray stones laid in no particular pattern. What scared her was that on one wall, there were bars, like the ones you'd find in a jail cell. Although they ran in a vertical pattern, there was one place where a thicker horizontal and vertical bar outlined a door. Shiori was laying on what seemed to be a bed, although the sheets were very thin, and there was no pillow. The bed attached on one side to the wall, with chains holding up the other side. Across from her, in the other corner about ten or so feet away, there was a small toilet with a thin sheet hung around it for privacy. After about five minutes of observing her surroundings, Shiori suddenly knew where she was.
"I'm in a jail cell," she muttered to herself. She closed her eyes and remembered what had happened. She had been in the kitchen with Kuronue. Kuronue had yelled something, the window broke behind her, and something hit her hard in the head, obviously knocking her out. Shiori put her hand to her forehead. "Why me?"
"You awake, ningen?" Shiori jumped. At the door to her cell were two ugly-looking demons. One was a large ogre-like creature, and the other was a creature slightly resembling the mud-thing that had attacked Shiori at the party. (Oh, god,) she thought. (Kurama. . . . )
"She's awake, she's just being difficult," the other one, the mud- thing said. The two of them entered, and Shiori shrieked, throwing her arms up in front of her face.
"Oh, look, she's scared," said the ogre-thing, advancing on her.
"Get away from me!!" Shiori shrieked, smacking him. He growled and backed away, one hand gingerly prodding the large red smack-mark.
"Strong, for a ningen," the ogre-thing said. Shiori held her now-sore hand and faced the two, glaring at them. "Brave, too. Or maybe she's just foolish?" Shiori ignored the insult and spoke.
"What do you want with me?" she asked. The mud-thing smiled.
"We could care less about you," it said. "Our master wants revenge on your son." Shiori found herself suddenly blinking back tears at the mention of Kurama.
"I have no son," she said. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh, yes you do," the ogre said. "You're just denying the truth about him. That he's really Youko Kurama. Am I right?"
"I have no son!" Shiori cried, her voice wavering. She closed her eyes, but a tear still trickled down her cheek. "I never had a . . . son." She fell to her knees. "Never ever."
"I was right," the ogre said. Shiori began to sob.
"I have no son!" she cried again, although she might have done better to keep her mouth shut. The words were weak, feeble protests that she was beginning to resent. She swallowed, and looked up at the two with red-eyes. "He doesn't care about me anymore."
"Yes, well, if that's the case, we will kill you," the ogre said. Shiori gasped, and then hardened her face into an emotionless mask.
"He doesn't," she said. "I hurt him. Rejected him. He won't come."
"Shut up!" the ogre said, and hit Shiori across the face. She cried out. The ogre raised his hand to hit her again, but the mud-thing stopped him.
"There's no use in hurting her," it said. "Just let her believe what she wants." With that, the two demons left Shiori to her tears.
Okay then, here we go. Things are about to get interesting.
Next time:
Kuronue and Jeroun tell Kurama about Shiori, and, as expected, he doesn't take it very well. But then he does something completely unexpected. He refuses to come to Shiori's aid!! Can Kuronue convince the kitsune to put the (recent) past behind him and go save his mother? Plus, we finally get a look at the person behind all of this.
Disclaimer: I got this contract saying that I owned 'em, but it was just a fake.
(*Kuronue . . . Kuronue. . . . *)
"Just a few minutes more. . . . "
(*Kuronue, what's going on?*)
"I want to sleep a little bit more, that's what's going on!!"
(*Not what I meant. . . . *)
"Huh? What do you mean then?"
(*KURONUE!!*)
"Huh? What? Ow!!"
Kuronue sat up straight, ramming his head into Kurama's, who just happened to be standing over him. Both kitsune and chimera reeled away from each other, clutching at their heads. Kuronue groaned, and blinked a few times, his brain now trying to think past a major headache. So, naturally, he said the first thing that came to his mind.
"Shit, Shuichi, you have a hard head!!"
"You're the one with the hard head, and I'm Kurama, remember?"
"Oh, yeah," Kuronue said, finally seeing the person in front of him. Kurama had turned back into his human form, but he definitely looked worse for the wear. His red hair hung limp about his shoulders, caked with grime and dirt. His face was no better. The only features you could make out were his bright green eyes, although the life that was usually in them seemed to have gone out. His clothes were torn as well as dirty, and he sustained several cuts, some still bleeding and some clotted up with dry blood and grime. Kuronue looked over his friend with a concerned gleam in his eyes.
"What?" Kurama asked, which, in Kuronue's opinion, was the stupidest question he could have asked at that moment.
"What have you done to yourself?" Kuronue asked him, walking in circles about his friend and tenderly touching a particularly bad cut or one that looked as though it were infected. Then he looked his friend in the eyes, and touched a finger to Kurama's cheek. He trailed it down through the grime, and then brought it up to show Kurama. He shrugged.
"I guess I am a bit dirty," he said.
"Kurama, what's with you?" Kuronue asked. "You've never let yourself get this dirty before. And all these wounds! They'll get you sick if you don't get them treated!!"
"Kuronue, you sound just like-" Kurama broke off, and turned away, but not before Kuronue heard him mutter. "Like 'Kassan, when she still cared about me."
"That's what this is about," Kuronue said, something nagging at the back of his mind. There was something he needed to tell Kurama about Shiori, if he could only remember it.
"What?"
"You're . . . not yourself ever since Shiori. . . . "
"Shut up!!"
"Kurama, look at what you've done to yourself!!" Kurama paused for a moment. Then he looked down at his tattered clothing, and ran his own finger down his cheek, picking up another trail of grime. "See, Kurama?" Kuronue's tone was pleading.
"Kuronue. . . . " Kurama said.
"You get yourself cleaned up while I try and remember what happened to me," Kuronue said. Kurama nodded, and left to take a shower.
Kuronue walked into the kitchen, which was the last place he remembered being. There was something important that he needed to tell Kurama about Shiori, but he couldn't for the life of him remember what it was. He walked into the kitchen to see cardboard covering a broken window above one of the counters . . .
(Shiori cowers against the counter, wondering why this demon facing her wants to bring up such painful memories of the youkai she used to call her son.)
Kuronue leaned against the counter. It was coming back to him. Slowly, but surely, he was remembering what had happened.
("Watch out!!" Kuronue yells, but it is too late. Shiori falls, and he catches her. He looks around wildly. "Where are you?" he demands. "Show your face you coward!!")
Kuronue frowned. Someone had attacked Shiori. That was bound to make Kurama angry. Then again, maybe he didn't care. (Think about who you're talking about,) he scolded himself.
(A laugh rings out, and something hits Kuronue on the head, knocking him. He drops Shiori as he falls to the floor.)
Kuronue's eyes grew wide. (And that was why it was hard to remember!!) he thought. He walked over to the trashcan. Under the lid there were several pieces of glass. Kuronue frowned. It appeared that everything he remembered was correct. He wondered why in the world Shiori had been kidnapped. He wondered where in the world anyone could have taken her.
"Damn them!" he whispered fiercely. "Damn them, damn them, damn them!!"
"Kuronue?"
"Jeroun!"
"What in the world happened here?"
"Bad, bad, bad," Kuronue whispered as his friend took a seat. "Shiori's been kidnapped by someone."
"NANI?!?!" Jeroun yelled. Kuronue clapped a hand over his mouth.
"Try and keep it down, will you?"
"Gomen," Jeroun said. "But how . . . why?"
"I don't know," Kuronue said. "And I'm not sure what we're going to do."
"Kurama?"
"I don't know if he even cares anymore," Kuronue said. "That rejection . . . it's been hard on him." Kuronue winced, remembering the scene earlier.
"Hard," Jeroun said, pausing as though he were letting the word roll over his tongue. "Hard . . . what exactly do you mean by that?"
"Kuronue? Jeroun?" Both Kuronue and Jeroun looked up to see Shuichi in the doorway to the kitchen. He looked cleaner than he had this morning, having bathed and changed clothes. His hair was bright red once again, and tied back to keep it out of his face. He wore a pair of jeans and a white T- shirt. You could see the multiple cuts on his arms because of the T-shirt. Most of them looked better, having had the dirt cleaned out of them, but a few looked as though infection had already set in. And Kurama had made no move to bandage any of them. Jeroun looked over at Kuronue. Kuronue raised his eyebrows and nodded. Jeroun swallowed hard.
"Like that, okay," Jeroun said, nervously turning his head away. That was what Kuronue had meant by "hard."
"Kurama," Kuronue said sternly. "I thought we agreed that you'd clean yourself up." Kurama shrugged.
"I took a shower," he said. "Pulled back my hair and changed my clothes. What more do you want me to do?" Kuronue got up and walked over to the kitsune.
"How about you clean your wounds?" Kuronue suggested, being as patient with Kurama as he could be. Kurama looked at the cuts on his arms.
"These?" he asked. "These are nothing. They're just scratches."
"Kurama. . . . " Kuronue growled.
"Kuronue?" Kurama said nervously as Kuronue took Kurama by the shoulders and marched him up the stairs to the bathroom to clean his wounds, plainly ignoring the protesting "eep"s emitting from Kurama's mouth.
Shiori groaned softly as she came to. (Where am I?) she wondered as she looked around. (The last thing I remember was being in my kitchen with that Kuronue. . . . ) Whatever she was in, it was not her kitchen. The walls were made of old-looking gray stones laid in no particular pattern. What scared her was that on one wall, there were bars, like the ones you'd find in a jail cell. Although they ran in a vertical pattern, there was one place where a thicker horizontal and vertical bar outlined a door. Shiori was laying on what seemed to be a bed, although the sheets were very thin, and there was no pillow. The bed attached on one side to the wall, with chains holding up the other side. Across from her, in the other corner about ten or so feet away, there was a small toilet with a thin sheet hung around it for privacy. After about five minutes of observing her surroundings, Shiori suddenly knew where she was.
"I'm in a jail cell," she muttered to herself. She closed her eyes and remembered what had happened. She had been in the kitchen with Kuronue. Kuronue had yelled something, the window broke behind her, and something hit her hard in the head, obviously knocking her out. Shiori put her hand to her forehead. "Why me?"
"You awake, ningen?" Shiori jumped. At the door to her cell were two ugly-looking demons. One was a large ogre-like creature, and the other was a creature slightly resembling the mud-thing that had attacked Shiori at the party. (Oh, god,) she thought. (Kurama. . . . )
"She's awake, she's just being difficult," the other one, the mud- thing said. The two of them entered, and Shiori shrieked, throwing her arms up in front of her face.
"Oh, look, she's scared," said the ogre-thing, advancing on her.
"Get away from me!!" Shiori shrieked, smacking him. He growled and backed away, one hand gingerly prodding the large red smack-mark.
"Strong, for a ningen," the ogre-thing said. Shiori held her now-sore hand and faced the two, glaring at them. "Brave, too. Or maybe she's just foolish?" Shiori ignored the insult and spoke.
"What do you want with me?" she asked. The mud-thing smiled.
"We could care less about you," it said. "Our master wants revenge on your son." Shiori found herself suddenly blinking back tears at the mention of Kurama.
"I have no son," she said. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh, yes you do," the ogre said. "You're just denying the truth about him. That he's really Youko Kurama. Am I right?"
"I have no son!" Shiori cried, her voice wavering. She closed her eyes, but a tear still trickled down her cheek. "I never had a . . . son." She fell to her knees. "Never ever."
"I was right," the ogre said. Shiori began to sob.
"I have no son!" she cried again, although she might have done better to keep her mouth shut. The words were weak, feeble protests that she was beginning to resent. She swallowed, and looked up at the two with red-eyes. "He doesn't care about me anymore."
"Yes, well, if that's the case, we will kill you," the ogre said. Shiori gasped, and then hardened her face into an emotionless mask.
"He doesn't," she said. "I hurt him. Rejected him. He won't come."
"Shut up!" the ogre said, and hit Shiori across the face. She cried out. The ogre raised his hand to hit her again, but the mud-thing stopped him.
"There's no use in hurting her," it said. "Just let her believe what she wants." With that, the two demons left Shiori to her tears.
Okay then, here we go. Things are about to get interesting.
Next time:
Kuronue and Jeroun tell Kurama about Shiori, and, as expected, he doesn't take it very well. But then he does something completely unexpected. He refuses to come to Shiori's aid!! Can Kuronue convince the kitsune to put the (recent) past behind him and go save his mother? Plus, we finally get a look at the person behind all of this.