A/N: Yes, I'm updating extremely late. Sue me. :P This chapter will pick up where chapter three left off.

Also, for anybody who is interested (who began the story before this update), I've made some minor changes to chapter one, and one important one (I've changed the length of their partnership from two centuries to four), so if anybody's interested in re-reading, feel free to do that. Also, I've changed two important pieces in chapter three (in regards to the fur traders and why people don't like them, and also cutting out some of the spiciness at the end), so definitely go back and read those parts if you can. Now, enjoy your very late update:)

-

Playing the Game
- Tenika Dargan

-

I remember when, you and me,
Mm, how we used to be.
Just good friends,
Wouldn't give me none...
But all I wanted was some.

- "Bubble Toes," Jack Johnson

-

Chapter Five

-

"Kuronue!"

The bat demon jumped, eyes snapping up to his partner in surprise. What?

The edge of the moon was just beginning to appear over the horizon, glowing brightly in a form only slightly thicker than that of the night before. The air smelled fresh, clean and new, traced with the signature scent of the silver fox that owned that particular stretch of the makai and the damp sweetness of newly fallen rain. The trees around them were dark, silhouetted shapes in the moonlight; black, but not entirely imposing. Kuronue had noted all of this already, but apparently, his attention had wandered from other things . . .

As his eyes fell on the familiar unearthly figure of his companion, Kuronue found that the youko was frowning, turned from the waist as he glared back at his companion. His golden eyes were obviously perplexed, and his ears were canted in annoyance. "What is wrong with you?" demanded the fox impatiently. "You've been drifting off since you left to hunt earlier. Pay attention!"

The corners of Kuronue's mouth turned down as he lowered his head in embarrassment. This was the second time in the same evening that he had been reprimanded for ignoring the silver fox while he was speaking. "Sorry," he muttered quietly.

Kurama frowned at him for several more seconds, then finally turned forward once again. "Keep your eyes open," he ordered sharply. "You're acting carelessly."

Kuronue nodded, but there was very little acknowledgment in the action. Of course, the silver character had always liked Kuronue to be attentive to him, to always be listening . . . but this evening, Kuronue just couldn't bring himself to reality. He had already listened to the youko's instructions upon leaving the den; he knew what they were looking for, and he couldn't see why he would have to be paying such great mind to the surroundings to do it.

Instead, his mind was drawn to something else that had come barely eight hours earlier, leaving in it's wake an odd feeling of weightlessness, a dryness in his throat, even a twinge of fear in his gut. He had always been somewhat afraid of the youko, sometimes more, sometimes less, but this encounter . . .

He could still feel the white hands on his chest; he could still smell Kurama's hair; he could still imagine the overly full drag of his stomach, and somehow, there was still the almost sickly thickness of the night, like the heaviest nectar he had ever tasted pulling behind his throat and his lungs and his eyes and dragging him into a world that was wholly Youko.

He could still remember it, like a dream- even though Kurama had been the one dreaming. Waking up had been beautiful, silent; a needed transition from surreal encounters to reality in the dark room, still trapped in the youko's arms . . .

-

Kuronue woke shortly an hour after sunset, as he always did. He needed on average only nine hours of sleep, but in turn required a large amount of food to keep his speed at its peak. His entire style of life had been built around these needs . . . and now, rebuilt around something else pale and nightmarishly perfect.

This evening, food was second on his mind as he fought his way to consciousness. Far more pressing in line for thought and consideration were the arms that were still wrapped around him.

Kurama had loosened his hold considerably over the course of the day, and after a small amount of experimental shifting, Kuronue found that it would not be hard to slip away without rousing the sleeping youko. After a few moments of consideration . . . and another few to enjoy the affectionate hold he was sandwiched in . . . he decided that moving would be best, and slipped out of the long white arms, rolling carefully away and rising to his knees.

There, in that odd, quiet moment, Kuronue simply stared at his companion, taking a chance to look at him in a way that most were never allowed to see; blissfully unconscious and comfortable, with a relaxed face of pure contentment. As any other demon, Kuronue probably would have not been able to see Kurama, as there was no light at all in the cave; but as a bat demon, his vision was far superior, and he could see the silver fox with an almost frightening clarity, every detail, every perfectly drawn line sure to be burned into his memory forever.

He was more handsome than any demon Kuronue had ever seen, and that was not an exaggeration. Even other youko (though he had seen only a few) seemed to lack something in comparison, something unfathomable and incredible. His skin was unmarked, smooth and light in expanse. It was eye-catchingly perfect, and remarkably unmarred when considering the kind of life he lived. Like milk and a little blood, the lightest tinge of pale pink around the cheeks and lips.

His hair practically begged to be touched and stroked; moon-like in color, and well composed with each impossibly thin, fine strand. The thick mane was something that could almost be called godly (he had seen hair like it in ancient tapestries depicting real gods), and it was even smooth, not rough- like the finest satin, slippery beneath the fingers and the mouth.

But more attractive than anything were the mischievous, perfect gold eyes that could convey so very many thoughts and desires, more alive than any Kuronue had ever gazed into. Those eyes told of an incredible amount of knowledge; a perpetually running train of thought. They spoke of vitality and cunning and arrogance, a huge sense of pride and superiority, and untouched, perfect grandeur. They were eyes that were rarely seen, and so were all the more beautiful.

And all of these things combined . . . made his partner.

Kuronue could not stop staring at him. He suddenly had the surprisingly strong urge to crawl back into the youko's hold, but he pushed it back with a small amount of alarm. Who in the makai had ever heard of the prey crawling back to the predator? Kuronue berated himself sternly for the stupid idea . . . and continued to think of it all the same. He eventually decided that he was just overtired, and tried to ignore the temptation.

It was an incredibly good thing that Kuronue had chosen to disregard his impulses like this, for Kurama suddenly decided that it was time to wake up. The situation would have been very different indeed had Kurama thought he was being taken advantage of; after all, it was his lot to take advantage of Kuronue, not the other way around.

So, he had not been caught in what could have been a very embarrassing situation, but Kuronue was still ruffled all the same, and he spent a few panicked seconds trying to decide what in Enma's hell to do. It was far too late to play dead, and so the very best he could come up with in the end was to simply sit still until he was noticed.

Kurama did this rather quickly- along with a few other things, such as sitting up suddenly and glancing around in bewilderment. Kuronue would have laughed at his puzzled expression, and he supposed later that he should have (to better maintain the illusion that he wasn't as nervous as he was), but the greatest he could manage was to blink and keep breathing.

"Ah," Kurama said finally, frowning over at his throne. "I've moved, I suppose." His nostrils flared in distaste as his ears twitched. "Annoying." He then rose from the furs and returned to his chair, curling up in it gracefully, accompanied by the faint rustlings of cloth against skin. "Shouldn't you be hunting?" he called suddenly to Kuronue, who jumped.

"I . . ." The bat demon instantly berated himself for the hesitation and jumped to his feet, going to the table where he had left his scythe blade. His skin tingled oddly as he moved, but he brushed the feeling away. "Yes," he replied when it was twined properly around his hand. "I'll be back in a few hours. Are we pursuing something tonight?"

"Yes," said the youko. "We will leave as soon as you return," Then, as far as Kuronue could tell, Kurama went back to sleep.

Kuronue could think of nothing to say; the night was over. The dream had ended. Silent, he turned and left the room.

-

He couldn't imagine what was wrong with the bat demon.

Ignoring him once was one thing - understandable, even. But twice? It was unheard of. Kuronue always paid attention after one sharp word or annoyed glance. Lenience was not something that Kurama supported, and Kuronue would have to learn that in a much harsher way if he made the mistake a third time.

It was a bad day for Kuronue to be inattentive: Kurama himself had woken up to find that he had moved in his sleep, and, understandably, not remembering this move had left him rather irritable; he was certainly in no humor to put up with someone else's problems. It wasn't his job to keep those around him happy.

Most irritating, though, was that he knew he had dreamed about the bat demon again - he couldn't remember the dream, but he was quite certain that it had involved his partner at one point. That was bad. It showed a serious attachment of some kind, and he couldn't afford to be quite that invested in another creature. He refused to let his senses depart at such a crucial point in the game.

Part of his irritation, though, came simply from the fact that he disliked dreaming - it wasn't something he did often, and when those surreal thoughts did come, they were usually in the form of nightmares. Even worse, sleepwalking came with the most realistic of the dreams, and he disliked that even more than the images themselves. He hated the uncertainty of the unconscious world; he hated the powerless feeling that came with it . . .

And most of all, he hated not knowing what he had done during the day or night, in those hours he spent caught somewhere between wakefulness and sleep, lost in one of those frighteningly lucid dreams.

This was certainly not the first time that he had woken to find that he had moved, either - after going to sleep in the woods surrounding his den one night (while he had still operated on a diurnal schedule), he had arisen the following morning to find himself in an entirely different clearing, where half of the trees around him were shriveled and dead - and he knew that he had been the one to kill them.

He supposed that (if he had really been sleep walking) his antics might be what had set Kuronue on such an edge, but he didn't really feel like cutting the bat demon any slack if that were the reason. It wasn't his fault. He couldn't have done anything terribly bad, anyway - Kuronue didn't look injured, none of his clothes had been ripped, and even his strange mood was relatively mild. A quick glance backward told him that Kuronue was gathering his wits even as he thought. For all that Kurama knew, he had simply slept badly (after all, the Youko had taken over his bed, leaving him nowhere but the rough pedestal to sleep), and was suffering from a little lack of rest.

. . . but now that he thought about it, the bat demon did smell much more like youko than usual. Maybe . . .

He stopped that thought right away as his irritated mood immediately doubled to real anger. If he accosted the bat demon in any way, then he wanted to be awake to do it. There was nothing more infuriating than not being able to revel in one of his victories.

"Youko?"

Kurama frowned, turning his head slightly to eye his partner. A glance on his part was all that was needed in way of reply.

The bat demon looked like he had finally gotten his brain back; his eyes were shining with their typical watchful light, and his mouth was set in thought. "Where are we going, exactly?" he asked, one fine black eyebrow turned down slightly.

Kurama glared at him in obvious distaste. "I already told you, Kuronue. Were you not listening then, either?"

The bat demon frowned, folding his arms and quickening his pace a little, so that he drew even with the pale thief. After four centuries of partnership with the youko, he had perfected his perplexed expression to magnificence, and while it still was not quite as expressive as Kurama's, the look was more than enough to convey his point. "You weren't exactly free with your description."

Kurama rolled his eyes, facing forward yet again and pretending to ignore his partner. "We're going to find a map," he said with obvious exasperation. "The journey will take us no more than an hour, more than half of which we have already wasted in company with your moodiness-"

"I know that that's what we're doing!" Kuronue interrupted, violet eyes flashing quietly in the darkness. Four centuries had also taught him many things other than expression, too . . . Kurama was almost proud of how well he had rubbed off on his partner, but on the other hand, it was perplexing to have to deal with some of his own idiosyncrasies. "Where are we going to find this map? And what it is going to be a map of? You still haven't told me what we're going to be hunting, you know."

The youko kept his bright eyes turned carefully forward upon hearing this, still not gazing at his companion. Now, though, he did it to keep from smiling. "Well . . ." he said slowly, enjoying the annoyance that he could almost feel radiating from Kuronue, "I suppose I should say." He allowed a few seconds of silence to pass, turning his eyes to the dark sky overhead, as though searching for an explanation. "We're going to find an interior map of the reikai fort near Ansonai. You do remember hearing of that platter, don't you?"

Kuronue disappeared from his peripheral vision. Blinking, Kurama stopped and turned, finding that his companion had frozen mid-step to stare incredulously at him. "We're going to attack the reikai directly?"

Oh, he loved the bat demon's reactions sometimes . . . Feigning innocence, he blinked narrowed golden eyes at his companion, a smile that was almost sweet taking hold of his mouth. "Not for three days," he defended, barely suppressed laughter evident in his voice.

His partner continued to stare at him. "The time we take to do it doesn't make it any less crazy!"

Grinning, Kurama set his ears back in nonchalance, closing his eyes with a shrug. "Why not? We have fought them before."

"No," Kuronue corrected him, frowning darkly, "We've defended ourselves from them. There is a difference, Youko!"

His grin slid into a smirk, the golden eyes open as he turned to begin his easy walk forward once more. His bad mood had disappeared as quickly as it had come, with didn't bother him in the slightest - one of his greatest joys was being fickle. "I don't see a great difference," replied the thief easily, "We're hardly weak, Kuronue. It might be fun."

The bat demon groaned, jogging to catch up to his partner. "You've said that about dozens of other things- do you remember when we attacked that caravan that happened to be carrying items of Mukuro's? You said we were powerful then, too! Or when you took me to that desu tree, that was certainly a lot of fun-"

"I believe that that was when we first met, wasn't it?" Kurama sighed fondly, nostalgically turning his eyes up toward the sky (because he knew that it would annoy Kuronue all the more).

"I don't care when it was-"

"Oh, stop being such a gibbering old woman," the youko huffed suddenly, shaking his head in disbelief. "One would never know that you're my partner." Stopping, he folded his arms and set his ears straight, turning to regard his frowning companion with calm smugness. "As long as we are well prepared and well rested, we are unstoppable. When has one of our thefts actually failed? Yes, perhaps we have retreated, but never without at least part of our prize. Even with Mukuro's train of goods, we still left with something. Think of what we will gain! Anashiki stole this item nine hundred years ago, and until now it has remained safely in his family, untouched by anyone. With such a relic to our name (stolen right out of the hands of the reikai, no less!), think of the results! I can't believe that you're not excited by the prospect." Kurama's eyes were shining with this speech, bright and wonderfully alive.

Kuronue was still frowning, though now the expression was solely worried, with only the faintest traces of residual annoyance. "Kurama . . ." he said quietly, and the youko stopped, ears twitching upon being addressed by his real name again in such a short amount of days. "Don't forget that this is the reikai. They're still the most powerful of the three worlds . . ."

Kurama let a smug huff escape his lips, turning again to begin a new, brisk walk in their chosen direction. "Of course I won't forget," came his airy response, one graceful white hand fluttering dismissively at his partner. "You worry without foundation or need. Come on, and not another word of protest - unless you wish to remain behind?" Kurama frowned, glancing over his shoulder at the quiet bat demon. "You always have that option, you know."

"Yes, I know," Kuronue responded quietly. "And of course I'm coming. But . . ." His frown deepened, violet eyes turning down to the forest floor as he hesitated suddenly. Kurama paused along with him.

The bat demon seemed to be gathering himself. Then he lifted his head, eyes calculating and face suddenly calm. "I left you once before, if you remember."

Kurama frowned lightly, the thought of continuing their journey suddenly gone. Why was the bat demon bringing that up again? "Of course," he responded neutrally, not wanting to reveal his curiosity.

"I could go again."

One of the Youko's eyebrows shot up, his left ear flickering back as his lips spread into a smug expression. Was he being threatened? How unusual of his partner. "You'd get as far as you did last time before you returned."

Kuronue's face was still calm. "Perhaps."

"Perhaps?" Kurama repeated incredulously, eyes amused. How perfectly ridiculous of Kuronue. "No, there are no variables. You returned then, you will return now." His tone couldn't be any more certain: there was simply no way that Kuronue could bother him with such a thought - he knew the other youkai too well. "You came back because you realized how much you needed me."

"Or how much you needed me."

Kurama had not been expecting those words. He stopped for several full seconds in surprise, eyes widening minimally and ears flickering back in uncertainty. "What?"

Kuronue folded his arms, head tilting slightly to one side as he narrowed his eyes at Kurama. "Looking back on it now, Kurama, I realize that you are right," his violet gaze was fixed on Kurama's own golden eyes as he spoke. "That at that time, I couldn't have survived without you. But remembering how you acted when I came back, how much nicer you were to me than you had ever been before . . ."

He paused for several seconds, then shrugged, smiling lightly as he dropped his arms and walked around his partner. "Well, I can't help but think that perhaps I wasn't the only helpless one."

The bat demon turned then, icy smile fixed in full on his startled partner. Kurama's eyebrows shot down in protest, and he was opening his mouth to contradict such an idea when Kuronue cut him off, saying, "Let's not fight over something that's only my opinion, Kurama. Let's go find your map and prepare your traps, and have our fun. And be sure to bring your light, Kurama . . ." His dark amethyst eyes narrowed in a frighteningly youko like expression. "I'm feeling especially dark tonight."

-

Theft had always been one of his strengths. Theft of objects, theft of techniques, theft of lives - theft in general, really. Anything that required quick fingers and a nimble mind, he was bound to excel at.

It wasn't like it was his greatest ability - that, of course, was his mastery over plants. Second to that was doubtlessly his power over his own image (youko were, of course, natural masters of illusion), and third was his ability to comprehend and use the hidden techniques and abilities written on the ancient scrolls he so enjoyed stealing. As a cousin of the kitsune, a very small amount of his youki was spiritual, and so it was not impossible to use reiki attacks. They were, however, difficult to use, and so mostly he stayed true to his youki. Thrown in between these top three abilities was his power of theft, and ranking somewhat lower than all four were his physical strengths, which by no means were weak, but merely underused.

This was because he was used to back attacks; fighting head-on was not his specialty by any means, and it was so much more fun to simply strike from behind and end the encounter with little or no inconvenience to himself. Kurama had no honor code; the ends always justified the means, which meant that if he had to strike low, throw sand in his opponent's eyes, omit information, bluff, or intimidate into submission, he would. Survival was the first order of the day; any energy or time wasted on concern for another being was simply that: A waste.

This was the easiest way to live, and he had chosen it many, many years ago. The older he got, the less any kind of change appealed to him, which suited such a life style perfectly.

This was what he reflected on as he slipped effortlessly into the tiny reikai outpost that they had been searching for. The building had been very well hidden (the reikai was growing more and more skilled at survival in the makai), but not nearly well enough - he had discovered it some years before, easily.

Interestingly, this particular outpost not only kept an eye on the surrounding demons (this was the troublesome one that kept sending reikai hunters to his lands. He wasn't particularly bothered by it's existence, however, as those hunters always ended up as fodder for his plants), but also stored several necessary blueprints for the five forts stationed within a ten day traveling radius of its position, in case of necessary rebuilding due to youkai attacks.

Kurama had known about the maps since he had first discovered the outpost, but he had never stolen one before, in part because he knew that they would be moved to another post as soon as the theft was discovered. In a way, he had been saving the opportunity.

And what better time to take advantage of it?

As it had been years before, the outpost was still small, and still neatly kept. The appointed tantei was apparently out at the moment, which worked perfectly for his purposes. There was hardly any need to be silent, but why not? Any opportunity to sharpen his skills was good. Kuronue had not come into the hut with him, instead waiting outside, nestled in his shadows, to watch for the return of the tantei.

And thinking of Kuronue . . . Kurama frowned as he moved toward the shelf set against the far wall that held the desired blueprints, images of the bat demon with that oddly placed smirk on his face rising to the top of his mind.

Kuronue lived differently than he did: The bat demon, as far as he could tell, had a very general code of honor that the youko constantly found himself confused by. At first he had been bothered by Kurama's way of attacking from behind, but the pale thief had gotten him used to that as quickly as possible; he didn't need some kind of saint as his partner, after all. Other small things had cropped up over the centuries, but they had been dealt with. Generally, though, Kuronue acted enough like any other youkai so as not to bother Kurama.

Sometimes too much like a youkai . . .

It was startling to say the least, when Kuronue gave the kind of rare moment that he had displayed earlier; where he not only played the game with all of his heart, but played it well. The youko could only recall maybe a dozen other occasions throughout the years where he had participated with such grandeur.

That conversation had been a threat, meant to remind Kurama of the fact that Kuronue still had a free mind. He acknowledged fully that he couldn't withdraw from the partnership; it wasn't as though he were threatening to do that . . . instead, it seemed more that he was trying to make himself equal to Kurama, to say, "Yes, I can't leave . . . but neither can you."

And Kurama didn't know anymore whether that was true or not.

A frown painted itself across his face at that thought, and as suddenly as he had begun to think about the situation, he forced himself to stop. Such musings would only make him crazy in the end - there was no fathoming such tiny intricacies. It was still his game, anyway, and whether or not Kuronue wanted to pretend that he was equal was irrelevant. Kurama would still win in the end, and no small threats or details really mattered when placed against that end result.

Instead, he turned his attention fully back to the shelf, where his hands had been going through the stacks of papers automatically, the thief part of his mind watching while the rest had been contemplating. He had gone through three stacks of papers already; orders from the reikai, copies of requests to have additional tantei sent (he smirked when he found that half of them had been called for on his behalf), supply lists, other useless blueprints . . .

Another two stacks had to be searched before he finally came across what he needed; a faded, rectangular square of parchment, delicately inked with the words Ansonai, East Fort. He scanned over the aerial schematics of the fort before returning to the stack. Three more blueprints were added to his collection by the time he finished looking, and he placed these with great smugness by the first.

This finished, he reached into the folds of his shirt, producing five large, slightly crumpled pieces of paper, four of which he spread on the ground in front of him, the fifth disappearing back into his shirt. Taking the blueprints, he set each one on top of its own piece, folding the blank papers until they all were the same size as their individual blueprints. Removing the blueprints then, he sliced the extra paper from the edges of the blank sheets, the clippings being tucked into his sash quickly.

Now he had good bases to work with. Setting each blueprint on the ground above its corresponding piece of paper, he held his hands over the two rows, closing his eyes in concentration. The original blueprints began to glow, followed seconds later by the papers beneath them. Another few seconds passed, then the formerly blank parchments below the blueprints flickered once, twice- and were suddenly no longer blank. Each appeared to be a perfect copy of whatever blueprint they matched with, right down to small rips around the edges and each tiny piece of cross hatching detail.

Satisfied with his work, Kurama put each of the replacement blueprints back into their original stacks, which were then returned to the shelves and moved delicately until the youko was certain that they looked untouched.

He was turning to leave, each paper now carefully returned to its proper place (save for the original prints, which were safely tucked beneath his arm), when he noticed a small slip of paper that had doubtlessly fallen from some of the papers he had sorted through, escaping his notice by drifting some feet away. Frowning, he leaned down and retrieved it, sliding a thumb between its folds to open and read whatever content they might be hiding.

"Youko!"

Kurama blinked, turning his head up to find Kuronue frowning at him through the open door, face upside down as he hung from the roof of the outpost. "The tantei is coming back!" he hissed softly, before withdrawing from the door and returning to the roof.

Still frowning, Kurama tucked the piece of paper into the back of his sash to read later and darted for the door, joining the bat demon on the roof before departing silently. The tantei wouldn't know that anything was missing for several days at least (the illusion on the papers would last for an entire week. The only other giveaway might have been an abundant amount of youko scent in the outpost, but Kurama doubted that the tantei's nose was that sharp), and even if he did discover the decoy papers sooner, it was very doubtful that he would have enough time to inform the fort.

Everything was working out perfectly.

-

They returned to the fox's den perhaps an hour and half later, the blueprints triumphantly placed on one of the low tables upon their entrance into the main chamber. The journey to and from the outpost was not normally a long one, but they had spent much of it wandering in other directions, to better throw the tantei off of their scent if he could indeed pick up on it. The decoy blueprints would probably be enough in the end, but Kurama, ever cautious, had insisted on wandering several miles out of their way, saying that this was one of the key elements of their preparation.

Now, safely back in the den, Kurama contemplated the next step of their soon-to-be greatest theft ever, oblivious of his partner, who had gone oddly quiet upon following him to the great sakura tree.

Instead he went to the tall, flat expanse of tree trunk on the left hand side of his throne, pushing his fingers into two small holes in the wood at waist height, pulling and revealing a hidden drawer. From this he produced an emerald colored tunic, loose and unadorned. Settling this over one arm, he removed the extra piece of blank paper from his shirt and dropped it to the floor, sending the extra scraps of parchment to join it before untucking his white shirt and drawing it off of his shoulders, frowning slightly as he did. The shirt was long in need of a thorough washing-

A soft noise behind him halted his movements, bringing his gaze around to his partner, who was standing some ten feet away by the furs. It seemed that he had been staring at them, lost in thought, but now his eyes were on the bare-chested Kurama, his expression almost . . . pained. Kurama gazed back at him, confused.

"What?" he asked bluntly.

The bat demon jumped, as though startled at being caught staring. "Nothing," he responded quickly, "Only thinking. Are we finished for tonight?"

Kurama spent another few seconds staring dubiously at him before nodding, drawing the tunic over his head and tugging it into place. "Yes," he said coolly, "I will spend the rest of the remaining hours studying those prints and going through my nursery. You may stay here tonight, as usual-"

"No!"

Kurama stopped mid-phrase, turning startled eyes up to his companion at the sudden outburst. The other demon's ears reddened slightly. "I mean . . . that's alright. I can sleep in my cave tonight - I need to get my own things together, anyway."

Kurama glared suspiciously at the bat demon, golden eyes narrowed. That was possibly the weakest excuse for an overreaction that he had ever heard from his partner; something was definitely bothering the other youkai. He had been odd like this earlier, too. Kurama almost opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, before remembering that it was really none of his concern. "Alright . . ." he said instead, slowly. "Very well then. I want you back here by no later than two hours past sunset, though. We have a lot of work to do before we leave tomorrow morning. Be sure to bring your cloak as well as your scythes."

The other demon paled (if that was possible, considering his already white skin). "We're leaving that soon?" He looked none too happy about the fact. "And we'll be traveling during the day?"

"Of course," Kurama replied, a little irritated with his partner's reluctance. "The fort is nearly twenty hours away, and that will only be if we sprint for half of the journey. We will have to travel the following night, too. Then we will rest with what time we have left, and strike the final night that the platter is in the fort."

The bat demon winced noticeably. "Isn't that cutting it a little close?"

Kurama snorted. "So long as we get it, I don't care."

Kuronue sighed, lowering his head slightly. He spent a quiet moment with his eyes closed, apparently lost in thought over something. Then he lifted his head, nodding slightly. "Very well," he said, "I'll take my leave now." He bowed his head in a farewell, then turned and made his way to the curtain of vines and flowers, passing through them and out of sight into the hallway beyond.

The silver fox watched him as he left, shaking his head slightly as he did. How strange . . . he could hardly remember a time when he had seen the bat so out of sorts.

It was then, suddenly, that the thought of the piece of paper tucked into his sash came back to him, the reason for this completely unknown. Glad to have something to take his mind off of his partner, Kurama reached back into his sash . . . and found that the paper was gone.

Surprised, he glanced around, thinking that maybe it had come loose and fallen when he had removed his shirt; but it was nowhere in sight. He even sorted through the miscellaneous pieces of paper left over from the decoy papers, but it was not among them, either. It must have fallen from his sash during their walk, then, and he hardly had time to find it . . .

Disappointed, he spent a few moments pouting (he had wanted to read that!) before turning with a sigh to the blueprints on the table. At least he still had something to study.

So, perhaps everything was not turning out exactly as he had envisioned. He could still pull one magnificent theft out of what he had . . . and he planned on doing exactly that.

-

A/N: ARGH! Look at that - I finally get the story up and rolling . . . and then my focus immediately switches to one of my other (unreleased) fics. -.- Figures as much. I just spent the whole amount of time between the last update and this one working on the fic I have lined up to go out after this one, which is an H/K (I can practically hear my sisters cheering).

So . . . /twitches nervously/ Was that opening scene too much? The flashback, I mean? Sometimes I feel like I'm walking that fine line between drama and soap opera (with all my metaphors and flowery descriptions and what-not), so if I accidentally fall over, feel free to tell me. I'll take my vicious editing scissors and snip it up into something a little more real. ;)

But I'm finally caught up with the chapters that I have and haven't written, so I can answer comments in a current timeline! (don't feel like you have to understand what that meant)

To HieiWannabe: Thank you for the e-mail! I'm glad that my notes seem to have finally started making sense . . . Hope to hear from you soon about this chapter!

To Kabuki Malice: Hello Amari, dear - wazzup? Thank you for the very sweet comments (I love writing Youko - he's so deliciously evil). YES I want that picture! It's sooooooooo awesome - I'll put it on my website, and plug it, and hype it, and . . . /sees family members staring at her and blushes/ Er - yeah. Yes, I want the pic.

To Dragon's Emerald: I'm sorry that I haven't responded to your reviews in the past four A/Ns, but at that time I was scrambling to fix some mistakes and do a bunch of work - the most I could manage were my responses to HieiWannabe. First off, I gotta say . . . WOW. O.O It looks like I've got someone who really likes the story - I've been deeply honored by your comments and compliments. /bows/ I'm extremely happy that you noticed so many of the details - them acting differently when they're older, the character that I've tried to give to Kuronue, etc... Yes, you were right about the prewritten chapters - all four were already written when I posted the first chapter, but I spent roughly a week posting them all. I wanted to get as many comments as I could get, so I could do as many edits as possible before I continued with chapters five and six. I'm afraid you'll have to wait a little longer for chapters from now on, but on the other hand, I'll be able to do responses like this now, so I'm pretty happy with the trade off. I really hope that you'll keep reading, and thank you, thank you, thank you for the reviews!

To Tikia Thundaren: SWEETIE! Where have you BEEN? You didn't review me for forever! I missed you. ;.; Glad that you like the story so far - you know I love having the ego stroked, right? Human that I am, after all. Hey, hey - try and make Tyries review me, ne? She's been living under a rock! Poke her a bit, maybe she'll come out. :P And when is the next chapter of YOUR story coming out, ne? Ne? I want to read!

To Pat: Hello! Thank you for reviewing so many chapters of the story (and for stroking my ego so thoroughly XD) - I'm so glad that you like the fic so far! I hope this chapter held up to standards. O.o Feel free to ask any questions you like, and I'll be happy to answer them!

To shadow dragon: Hello to you as well! Thanks a bundle for telling me what the tilde is called (I'll be able to use that in the blistering e-mail I update every day that will never actually be sent to FFN :P), and I hope to keep hearing from you as the story is updated. Any reviews I get will always be appreciated (because I'm a sucker for them).

I'm going to do these responses for as long as I possibly can (until these A/N's get so insanely huge that even I decide to cut them short), so feel free to ask as many questions as you want!

Peace,
TD

FANON/CANON

1) "Even other youko seemed to lack something in comparison." - I think that kitsune are the more energetic, trickster-ish type demons, whereas the youko exude the, "Worship me, I'm beautiful," sort of energy.

2) I will never, ever start writing a fic without doing the proper research beforehand again. EVER. I finally have my information straight /sighs heavily/ and I've found that I've dug myself into a deep, messy hole by confusing youko and kitsune in the first chapter, and now I have to try and climb back out of it. I know that none of you nailed me for it, but being the obsessive that I am, the slightest mention of a name confusion (thank you HieiWannabe!) sent my on a crusade to find what I'd done wrong . . . and now I gotta fix it.

From what I've been able to gather (from reading fanfiction, doing a little internet research and checking Yoshihiro Togashi's descriptions), I have now come up with two different ideas as to what youko are (the one that's probably correct, and my own mistaken idea).

I'm currently reading an AWESOME fic called The Best Defense, by JoIsBishMyoga, which is infinitely better than this story (go read it!). Jo's theory (the one that's probably correct) is this; that kitsune are spiritual creatures (not demons), and that youko are their demonic cousins. So, I can't use kitsune as a description for Kurama, because he simply isn't one. The way that I first came to understand it (before I found out about the correct theory) was simply that kitsune are the demonic version of your every day fox, and that youko were just a stronger, slightly different version of kitsune (more powerful, more beautiful, etc.).

Finding out that I was wrong, however, was only the beginning of my research. I then moved on to Google, where I researched Japanese Gods (specifically Inari), and found out exactly how mistaken I was in my theory. In the simplest of descriptions, kitsune are the sacred messengers of Inari; there are thirteen types of kitsune, the loyal, Inari following ones (considered the good kind) being called myobu (sometimes they're called celestial kitsune, too), and the ones hunted by the myobu for not serving Inari being called nogitsune. The kind that I think exist in Togashi's world (the kind that must have been banished to the makai when the keikai was formed) were the spirit, or koryo kitsune, which are considered to be evil. Youko are a specific Togashi creation, and are, as JoIsBishMyoga says, probably cousins to the koryo.

So I can't use kitsune as a description. /sighs/ Oh well. I've gone back and fixed the first four chapters already, though, so the mistake is no longer a problem, and I will of course refrain from calling him a kitsune in the future. /shrugs/ So . . . there you have it. I repeat - thank you HieiWannabe for giving the comment that made me go on this quest, otherwise I would have just blundered on for many more chapters. I'll be removing this note with the next update, since it's not all that important . . . but for now, thank you for reading. :)

3) "After all, the youko had taken over his bed, leaving him nowhere but the rough pedestal to sleep." - If this really had been the case (which it wasn't, as we all know), Kuronue could have technically slept in Kurama's throne . . . but who here honestly thinks he would take that kind of a chance? Kurama obviously doesn't, as he didn't even consider it as a possibility.

4) There is one more important thing that I changed in chapter three; that being that white is Inari's sacred color, not silver. I've already fixed the mistake, so if you would like to go back and read, once again, I urge you strongly to do it. Thank you all! Readers/reviewers make my day. :)

5) "As a cousin of the kitsune, a very small amount of his youki was spiritual." - Made up, and made up entirely for this story. O.o I don't know if it's even possible . . . but why would he enjoy stealing hidden techniques of all kinds if he couldn't use some of them? That's my excuse, anyway.

6) "And going through my nursery." - A plant nursery, where he keeps young species of plants for later use. That's right, people - there are more rooms in his den that I didn't tell you about it chapter one. ;) Just wait until chapter eight . . .