Time and Time Again

Dedicated to Nyte Kit, who obviously appreciates giving me wonderful opportunities to brand a fierce scar on the minds of others. How giving she is!

Warnings:

1) Karasu. ('Nuff said...meaning: torture, shounen ai, rape, character death, possible OOCness, all in one word. Kara-chan's name has that kind of effect where Kurama's concerned.)

Genre: Probably horror. Probably angst. Probably some other things too, but you'll just have to see.

Author's Notes: More Kurama torture! How we do apparently love this... Anyway, this was astoundingly easy to write! For some reason, the ideas that Nyte Kit gives me are apparently suitable to my palate insofar that i can type them out without having to ponder more than a few seconds. And, as it was easy to write and the topic was beautiful, i do so love it.

Tears streamed from his eyes in hot torrents, scalding his cheeks and ripping hole after hole in his pride with each silver drop. He didn't understand why it always returned to this. For what seemed like an eternity and a half, he'd been wandering through hands and grips and terrible pains, exchanged like currency, forfeited so reluctantly by some to fall into the hands of those so eager to get a piece of him, literally as well as figuratively. But, as fate had it that he would have to suffer so, the more frequent of those whose hands he was passed into were those that caused the deepest wounds: in body, in mind, and in spirit.

For lack of a better explanation, Kurama thought himself framed. There was no memory within the folders, databases, chests, drawers, disks, within the files of his mind that portrayed to his eyes the crime for which he'd gone through a trial and had been convicted, by Koenma, to this heinous torture. Playing toy to some as, with others, he was left to rot, chained to a wall and observing the ravenous consumption of food and drink that was just beyond his reach. How insulting it was that he suffer so when there was no possible way that he'd done the crime. There was no possible way that, of his own free will or under duress, he'd murdered Yusuke and Kuwabara. He couldn't have killed them, not them, not Yukina and Keiko, not Shizuru and Atsuko, not dozens of humans scattered about the city as he'd been convicted of. How could he have done such a thing and not remember it? And, if he'd even done it, there was no way he'd have gotten caught, that was for sure. So, as all logic and reason pointed to, he'd been framed.

"Hello, Kurama," came a familiar voice as he was traded again, reaching the one that caused the deepest physical wounds. Residing in a dungeon area in a little niche in Hell, where Koenma had made the sufferings of said hell slightly more bearable for the sake of giving this monster full ability to harm the fox, Karasu sat on the floor, inside a caged alcove, barred from interaction with anyone not accompanying him within his cell. There were bloodstains on the ground from the last time Kurama had reached this cell, little clumps of hair and rotting flesh that had grown back after a few hours so as to prevent his untimely death. Suffering for the sake of suffering for a crime he hadn't committed, even death being beyond his reach: this was Kurama's punishment for allowing himself to be framed. And, as the circumstances currently were, he would be in a great amount of physical pain for the next thirty six hours for the sake of the libido of a bomb-wielding, homicidal, sadistic monster.

Thirty six hours with Karasu, then he would be begrudgingly given up to the next monster to take his physical form for granted and tear a hole in his pride with those never-ending tears that flowed. Then, he would be passed to the one that caused him extensive mental damage, remained with him for thirty six hours and was thrown to another degenerate. Finally, he would be at the mercy of the one that broke him spiritually, broke his soul and his heart. Down to the dregs of demon society after him, then given back to Karasu for the whole process to repeat, and repeat, and repeat, for as long as eternity should last.

The beginning had been too much of a shock for him to have registered the emotional pain, so he'd enveloped himself in the physical agony to prevent his spirit from shattering, hadn't cared to point out to himself that Karasu was abusing him so thoroughly. He was so positive that things would be sorted out that he'd attempted to maintain his dignity by throwing his mind and soul into solitary confinement and refusing to open the door. It had kept him shallow and utterly focused on the physical aspect of life until he'd passed through Karasu and the next, but his mental aspect had been abruptly dragged from the box when he who caused a strain on Kurama's mind had been presented. He'd attempted so thoroughly to close his mind, but it had been impossible. By the time he reached the one that shattered his heart and soul, he hadn't been able to put up much of a struggle and had been forced to tears within minutes, then left with deadening feelings that stung like millions of needle sticks and matchstick burns.

After the process began again, it wasn't difficult to realize that he'd fallen into a trap of ingenious dimensions. And he hadn't even realized that he'd been falling for it, which made him feel all the more insulted and subsufficient. As much of a strategist and a clever fox as he was, he'd dived headlong into the utmost agony that could ever be inflicted upon him. He'd barred his mind and soul from Karasu, leaving his physical form to suffer. And, in doing so, he hadn't prepared his mind and soul for the anguish they would soon be subjected to, leaving him utterly vulnerable when those that could break through the pitiful barrier he'd erected arose. He'd given his physical agony to Karasu, leaving his mind and emotions for those that could easily manipulate and devastate them. Foolish thing to do, but that plot had been ingenious, something Kurama himself would think of if he'd had a purpose to do so.

A shriek rang through the air as thick layers of skin were torn from Kurama's back, exposing the sore muscles and a tiny crack on his scapula. Karasu gave a vicious grin to the crack and pressed a honed fingernail to the chink, digging into it and making the rift wider while the fox screamed, tears constantly slipping from his emerald orbs. If only there was a plant for him to use, a seed within reach, if only all his plants hadn't been stolen from him before his descent into Hell, he'd rip the bomb-wielding demon limb from limb, burst from the confines that shackled him, slaughter Koenma in the most agonizing manner, return to the human realm and continue in life, not allowing anyone to imprison him again. If only he had the faintest of chances...

Like the blink of an eye, the pain ceased and the fox was dragged from his thirty six hour perdition with Karasu to the next stage. The bomb-wielding demon waved languidly to Kurama, anticipating the fox's next visit in one hundred eighty hours. The redhead had to repress a shudder of disgust. The next thirty six hours passed by like seconds and he was given to another of the three worst beings whom he could confront, he who tore into his conscious mind like a chainsaw and decimated everything in its path, then repeated. He gave a single nod of his head, his veil of ebony hair waving foward before returning to its serene position against his chest. The fox returned the nod after the cell door was shut behind him, after he took a seat at the table that the other sat at, adding a verbal greeting. "Yomi."

"You were living such a prosperous human life, Kurama. Why did you forfeit it?" Of course, it was pointless to attempt refuting the statement, that he had done nothing intentionally, as Koenma had long ago convinced everyone he had ordeals with that he was guilty, no exceptions, no denial, no questions. Any argument Kurama had was futile and nothing more than wasted breath. So, for the duration of Kurama's stay with Yomi, he was subjected to degradation and humiliation at the hands of one that shouldn't know all that he did. There were so many facts and memories of Kurama's that he hadn't told another living soul, much less one that he'd saw as low enough to leave for dead in his previous life.

Hours and hours went by and the final implement of torture was displayed. Here was the only room that was not a jail cell, which had deceived Kurama at first into believing that he was being set free, but the locked door behind him was so very familiar that the feeling had fallen away immediately. Upon looking around, the fox found himself staring at a shadowed room with a single grate, violet flames tickling the bricks around them while they feasted delightedly on the wood beneath. There was thick scarlet carpet under Kurama's feet and ebony drapes hung up on the walls around him. It was a morbidly elegant room, Kurama thought at first. Though, after the first ten minutes, he was convinced that it was more of a hell that the cave-like cells he was confined to the rest of the time. These hours were the ones he dreaded most, as there was nothing more devastating than what he witnessed there.

Every time, coming seemingly from nowhere as he often did, Hiei would appear in front of the fireplace, sitting at the edge of the carpet, where it ends before coming within reach of the flames. Every time, the fire demon never took notice of the fox's presence. Every time, the fox watched as Hiei drew a dagger from nowhere and scraped the words "Why did you do it?" into the face of the stone mantle, trace his fingers over the kanji, then stare at that dagger for the longest time before plunging it deep into his abdomen. The fox had shrieked bloody murder and had dashed forward to help, but no matter how many steps he took, no matter how long his stride, he got no closer to the fire demon and eventually collapsed from exhaustion. And he would lie on the ground, curled into a fetal position as he watched his best friend bleed into the carpet, dying, unable to do a thing for the fire demon; he would sob and weep and observe, thinking himself useless for being unable to help Hiei. After the second time this happened, he knew it couldn't be real, but it looked so vivid that he couldn't help himself when he would react so violently time and time again.

Time and time again. He would see all this time and time again, trapped within the curse of his own Evil Thoughts Tree. Unable to escape the clutches of its branches as no one else but himself could release him from it's deadly embrace.

Thanks! Nyte Kit, Aika-chan (FrozenBlueRose), and miyako14. Yayness for you.

Okay, the Evil Thoughts Tree is the Janen Ju, but i don't know what the dubbed version calls it. It's what Kurama used on Toguro Ani (the older one) in the Demon Door's Cave. As to why Kurama's stuck in it, use your imagination. To me, it would seem corny and tasteless to explain it right there at the end. i've thought of several scenarios, so you surely can come up with one that you like, or at least think makes sense.

Hope you liked.

11:05 A.M. Eastern Daylight Time. U.S. Wednesday, October 26, 2005.

Owakare.

Chiisai Mu.
Little Nothing.