The Whipping Boy

by roseeyes

One winter day in the kingdom of Gandara, a boy is brought to King Yomi's castle for the crown prince. The young heir is desperate for a friend - the strange boy needs a place to belong. They call him the whipping boy, a title neither understand but both come to loathe. Can true friendship form when one is punished for the wrongs of another? Kurama/Hiei's 1st person POV; AU.

6. Dangerous Games

Pour my life into a paper cup
The ashtray's full and I'm spillin' my guts
She wants to know am I still a slut

– Red Hot Chili Peppers

Dangerous Games

"Hiei, are you ready to–"

My tongue stilled of its own accord, shocked at the sight of sun-kissed skin. Though we'd long since passed the stage of asking permission before entering each other's chambers, never before had I found my companion in a state of undress.

Nearly twenty summers had come and gone since our first meeting, yet to the human eye we appeared boys still, caught on the cusp of adolescence. During that time, we'd both grown taller, leaner, faces stripped of childhood innocence. Time stood still for us, as it did for all of our people.

However, experience carried with it the harshness of reality. Hiei carried both swords with him at all times, along with no less than three knives safely hidden on his person. I kept a ready supply of seeds tucked in my hair and pockets, learned to hear things which should never be voiced and see what should never see the light of day:

Needless to say, the first attempt on my life was not the last.

Hiei glanced over his shoulder, hands frozen in the act of picking up a tunic. Having long-since grown accustomed to his attire, the sight of black against scarlet bedclothes did not surprise me:

However, his tainted back stole my breath.

Angry rivulets carved their way down his shoulders, ribs and spine, creating a patchwork not unlike veins lining a leaf. Sharp lines bit deeply into muscle, each covered by half-healed scabs; sickly bruises dotted his biceps, his sides, his hips – every possible hand-hold. Dark marks no more than an inch in diameter stained his skin, along with tell-tale blood blisters.

I knew those bruises; I'd seen them countless times on Asato's neck, forget-me-nots left by some woman or another. Marks of passion–

Love bites.

Hiei placed a steadying hand against the wall but made no move to stop me from stepping closer. In fact, only his eyes moved as my feet carried me to his side, mouth resolutely closed. Purple stripes molded after fingers lined his throat, morphing even the white scars there a peculiar lavender. Dusky yellow clouded both wrists; his clavicle and chest doubtlessly ravaged by a feral animal. Surprisingly, his face remained untouched, both lips swollen as if he'd been struck, though I knew that not to be the case.

The distinctly feminine scent clinging to his skin said otherwise.

My brow furrowed, though he appeared unmoved by my anger. "Who did this to you?"

A light snort and he looked away, raising the tunic once again. "This doesn't concern you, fox."

Perhaps it was the lack of care, the forced fluidity of his body which unnerved me. The statement – a man's declaration from a child's throat – pierced my gut, prodding an emotion I did not believe myself capable of feeling:

Anger.

Before conscious thought could surface, I grabbed his wrist, hiding the spectral flush there. His gaze fell to my hand though I refused to let go, even as his eyes narrowed.

I didn't understand – I had not miss-stepped in any way. Hiei was my whipping boy, any punishments were to be carried out before me, for myedification. Yet father was home – I'd seen him minutes before–

Also, Hiei had never been disciplined in such a fashion before.

Asato's souvenirs always made him smile, yet no joy lingered on my companion's face. In fact, with each passing second Hiei retreated further into himself, leaving unmoving red in his wake. Rage colored my vision at his obvious difficulty in standing, bled into my cheeks from the foreign perfume clinging to his skin. The vicious violet formed by a woman's hands dried my throat, shortened my breath:

My fingers trembled against my will.

"Tell me."

Ruby slits stared at my chin and he ripped his hand away, falling against the bed as his knee crumpled.

"Hiei–!"

A single growl stopped me, low and rumbling – a warning. He met my gaze for an instant before glaring down at the offending leg, nose wrinkled in disgust. Gnawing my inner cheek, I noted how the normally loose-fitting trousers clung to his pelvis and that, where wool met flesh, the fabric darkened significantly–

The unmistakable aroma of blood curled my nose.

Hiei forced his legs under him with a soft grunt and slipped the tunic over his head, effectively concealing the atrocities marring his abdomen. Less-than-steady hands wrapped a white scarf around his neck, completing the illusion:

His eyes never once left mine.

Finally, he took both swords and slipped them into their respective places at his belt before turning to escort me, as he always did.

His practiced ease ultimately proved to be my undoing. "How long?"

He stilled, though his legs thankfully agreed to the sudden halt. I wanted to believe this to be a one-time occurrence – something which could be dealt with quickly and efficiently – yet the effortless ease of his moves stated otherwise:

His silence also testified against such a theory.

Finally, his voice slid from that too-still form, indifferent and cold. "Stay out of this, Kurama."

We left, then, going to some function or another. I never broached the subject again, even when rumors of countless escapades reached my ears, when fingerprints and nail tracks lined his face, as well as other marks he could not hide. If Hiei wished to handle the matter alone, I would honor his request:

Incidentally, we met Yusuke that very summer.

Darkness awaited on the other side of sleep, accompanied by ancient groans and the iris' song. A shaky breath and oak, chamomile, and lavender flooded my nose, along with other familiar smells: aged parchment, ink crafted from soot and gum; the fish-like scent of new silk–

My chambers.

Sweat clung to my hair, my skin, soaking through the thin tunic with each passing second. Air wafted through the balcony entrance as cicadas serenaded slumbering flowers; fresh dew and rose buds settled against my tongue, awakening every sense to summer.

I sighed and relaxed against the wrinkled bedclothes, allowing the night to engulf me. A clammy hand covered my eyes, massaging away Hiei's room, the marks tainting his flesh. I reveled in the stench, allowing acrid fear to ward off the memory–

I'd not thought of that day in quite some time.

Another inhale unearthed the absence of ashes and I sat up, forcing both eyes open. The woven willow chair waited patiently in the corner, bare bottom gleaming moonlight where my companion normally sat. I stared at the blanket draped across a wooden arm, noting careful evergreen creases, folds crafted by my own hand–

Hiei had yet to return.

I sighed, willing my body to rise. Cold stone bit into feet as I glanced at the sky through the arched threshold, toes curling. The moon glared from her perch, pale veil encompassing countless stars. She'd fallen lower in her bed since mine and Yusuke's conversation. I judged the hour now to be two in the morning:

Escorting a human to his chambers should not take this long.

True, the possibility existed of a woman calling him away. However, such a scenario at this hour was unlikely.

Taking a steadying breath, I stripped away the tunic, using the garment to wipe perspiration from my chest and abdomen. The dream was too fresh: with each passage of cloth, I saw black bruises, seeping scabs, blood blisters; each appeared in-tandem, as if my flesh were the abused party–

A shudder and the sensation passed.

Padding from the room, I slipped silently into my dressing chamber, biting back a smile at the snores emanating from the sitting room. Unwilling to answer the beckoning seed in my hair, I ran a blind hand across the shelves, satisfied when both shirt and trousers touched my fingertips. I dressed in the dark, not bothering with hose or other garments before sliding my feet into rich slippers. If need be, I would blame the late hour for my state of undress–

The dread gripping my gut demanded action.

I found Yusuke exactly as I left him: sprawled on the couch, cushions thrown to the floor, head nestled in his hands. Having withdrawn both arms from the plaid, Yusuke's bare chest acted as a container for the incessant noise, shoulders trembling with each spirited inhale. One leg thrown haphazardly over the back of the couch, he lay on his hair, allowing dark braids to replace the finery he did not want.

He did not so much as flinch at my nearness.

For a moment, I debated waking him before dismissing the notion. I knew Yusuke would laugh at my avoiding solitude – especially over something as superficial as a dream – so I left my cousin to slumber, slipping from my chambers with cat-like ease.

No guard awaited outside the door, though I did not expect one. Hiei remained by my side whenever father held court, so Asato decided long ago to place his men where they were most needed: either with the king or visiting diplomats. I had no doubt two stood before Yusuke's chambers, and three if not more watched over Rui's rooms.

Old oak whispered once again as I stopped before Hiei's door, pressing sure fingers against the carvings. The wood gave way easily enough, though no snide remark or glare awaited there. To my surprise, Hiei's chambers were wrapped in darkness, though the torch light seeping around my profile tore at the shadows. Nothing appeared out-of-place save for the cold embers in the fireplace – Hiei always kept a fire going, even while staying with me – and the red cloth crumpled on the floor.

My eyes narrowed as I studied the discarded silk, though I didn't dare intrude another step. Above all else, Hiei was a creature of habit: he handled his garments with the utmost care, even the woolen items he wore daily. I saw nothing amiss with the red pools – no tears or signs of a struggle – yet for father's gifts to be left to rot on the stone, heedless of dirt and wrinkles–

Something was terribly wrong.

His scent lingered still but tasted stale – well over an hour old. My legs longed to run but I restrained them to a brisk walk, turning from one corridor to the next. The smell of ash lingered everywhere and nowhere, burning my nose, pounding against my skull. His trail knew neither rhyme nor reason: measured paces led to prolonged periods pressed against a wall; steps traversing between a leisurely walk and a soldier's strut at the drop of a hat. The stone dutifully told the story of each step, preserving the scents of ash and old leather as if they were treasured relics.

The trail led past Kuwabara's chambers, though lingering scents told of several minutes spent before his door. I debated checking on the knight until snores almost as obnoxious as Yusuke's reached my ears, muffled only by thick wood. A sharp inhale betrayed no blood or poison, no substance of merit:

Hiei had kept Kuwabara safe, just as he'd promised.

A frown tugged at my lips as I pursued him, nose leading me deep into Schloss Wald. No guards appeared along the way: an oddity for the hour, yet one I did not have time to consider.

Finally, just as I reached the end of another corridor, a hushed voice reached my ears – a woman's voice. My back pressed against the wall of its own accord even as ashes coated my tongue, threatening to burn away every taste bud. Here, he was here–

However, so was she.

I crept down the remainder of the hall on silent feet, never breaking contact with whispering wood. Several seeds chattered as one in my hair, hailing warnings so insistently I could not hear her words. Only decades of experience saved me from discovery when a sprig unexpectedly wrapped around my little finger, halting my steps.

A low murmur – Hiei's reply – and the wall released me, granting clearance despite the kernels trembling against my scalp.

Then, just as I breached the corner, the unmistakable clap of flesh-against-flesh.

I ducked behind the ancient trunk, pausing for breath before glancing into the neighboring corridor. Rui stood less than ten feet away; I could see her every curve clearly. Robed in a flowing nightgown of first snow, the koorime's jaw appeared taut in the faint torchlight, though no defined emotion crossed her face. Not surprisingly, she stood with all the confidence expected of a noblewoman: chin lifted, spine perfectly erect, chest thrust forward by sure shoulders–

Only trembling hands gave away her ruse.

Hiei stood with his back to me, attention focused on her. Tension radiated from the pair; his stance very much resembled her own, though he made no move to elevate his head. Customary black clung to his legs and torso, both shirt sleeves having been ripped away long ago. Tell-tale bruises – traitors of midnight passion – marked his throat and shoulders, each made prominent by tanned skin. The dragon's dark body appeared ready to leap from his arm, red eyes scheming, gleaming–

Waiting.

"How dare you!" Rui hissed, shaking out one arm.

Only then did I notice the inflammation overtaking his right cheek, the imprint of a small hand–

The anger churning his eyes.

"How dare you wear such colors in a king's court!" She seethed, balling the offending hand into a fist.

Hiei's gaze flickered to her side, elbows brushing twin sword hilts as he pocketed his hands. "I wear the colors gifted me by King Yomi–"

The wood groaned as she struck, backhanding him across the mouth. His neck twisted with the motion, legs faltering a single step. I made to move – to come to his aide – but a sturdy branch wrapped around my wrist, halting my steps.

Red greeted me when I turned once more towards the corridor. Blood marred the corner of Hiei's mouth, welling atop his lip and slipping towards his chin. However, any protest died on my tongue once his eyes found mine. Dense ruby glared, rooting me in place with a power sure as the bark trapping my arm.

Once again, the dream found me, his voice piercing my ears:

Stay out of this.

Slowly, Hiei straightened, gaze shifting to the Koorime at the last possible moment. He popped his neck, shoulders rolling with the motion. Curiosity pursed her lips as her eyes wandered towards my hiding place and suddenly he spat, red-tinted saliva landing at her feet. He never took his hands from his pockets. The swords' silver handles caught oddly in the light, garnering a life of their own:

Suddenly, the absence of her companion became all too pronounced.

Rui's nose wrinkled at the insult before she forced all passion away: only when her face resembled a porcelain mask did she dare move, closing the distance between them with two measured steps. "Your prince has granted you too much freedom." She stated when mere inches separated them, voice distant. Cold. "You've forgotten your place."

He sneered at that. "No, your highness." The word rolled off his tongue like a piece of spoiled meat and he tipped his head back, daring to meet her gaze. "If anyone has forgotten their place, it's you."

Something altogether ugly darted across her face – a serpent buried beneath the forest floor – and she lashed out again. This time, Hiei stopped her with relative ease, stepping aside and grabbing her wrist faster than my eye could follow.

Indignation colored her cheeks as she struggled against his grip. "Release me!"

"Do you know the penalty for striking a member of the Gandaran royal household?" He asked, voice calm despite her clawing at his hand.

Rui glared, nails leaving red rivulets in their wake. "You fancy yourself one of them?"

I couldn't see his face, could not gauge his reaction.

She laughed at his silence. "A dog, equal with his master? Have you learned nothing?" A smirk curled her lips and she rose once again to her full height. "Don't you see, boy? Until the day you die, you belong to–"

Hiei twisted her wrist further, earning a pain-filled cry. The branch released me then, returning silently to its place along the wall. Even granted freedom, however, I dared not move:

I couldn't bring myself to shatter the spectacle.

Rui stood still, though her body leaned dangerously to the side, helpless against Hiei's firm hold. "I belong to Gandara." His voice sent chills down my spine; inflections strange, foreign:

Riddled with ice.

His eyes never left her as he tightened her grip, uncaring of her torment, steel lining every word. "The only ones who command my loyalty are King Yomi and Prince Kurama." He straightened, the motion forcing her to bend all the more. "You would do well to remember that."

Suddenly, the walls groaned and phantom fingers found my neck, ran through my hair; soft thumbs traced my earlobes with surprising deftness, caressing my jaw with the tenderness of a lover.

I froze at the touch. The sensation lasted mere seconds yet unadulterated panic raced through my veins, halting all logical thought. Years of training, only to allow someone to come this close–

I bit back a curse. Without turning, I knew who held my throat so gently:

The rustling of wings only strengthened my resolve.

Lashing out, I leapt into the corridor, teeth gritting when my fist failed to meet icy skin. All at once, Hiei stood before me, natural heat a comforting blanket. Both hands gripping his swords, he chanced a quick glance over his shoulder, swollen lips parted in question.

"I'm fine." I murmured, massaging my throat while procuring a choice seed. The assurance sounded breathy in my own ears; strained–

Afraid.

Thankfully, Hiei did not press me further, turning instead to face our guests. Karasu stood before his mistress, wings extended, hiding her from view. His hands rested at either side, empty, open as if in invitation. Breath slithering through the slits of his mask, he made no move to attack, nor did he attempt to defend himself. Rather, he left each vital point in clear view: inner wrists boasting prominent veins; abdomen lax; sternum and throat nearly translucent in their paleness, the latter pronounced above the rest by a slight tipping of his head. His lack of self-preservation, much like a dog struck one too many times–

An unnerving sight, to say the least.

However, his eyes shattered the illusion of total submission. Dead pools shifted from Hiei to myself, grotesque in their lack of feeling. Eyes such as his should not possess depth, yet I found myself lost in their recesses, drug against my will to a place reeking of rotted bones and graveyard soil. Purple wormed its way into my brain, dissolving the line between fact and fiction, reality and dreams:

Once again, I was a child pulling my unwilling companion through the snow: coaxing him into the Diviega, pressing lush fruit to his lips. In the library, I saw him take my punishment, bite off Suzaku's thumb – witnessed him beaten within an inch of his life.

I pressed open his chamber door, allowing darkness to consume me. A tangible fear, knowing the dragon lurked there, awaiting someone to devour. A man's hands appeared from the shadows, wrapping around my throat, promising release through sweet sleep.

"Fox."

A blade. Tiny, blood-soaked hands. An iron circlet glinting in the moonlight, clasp broken, forgotten by the world.

A keening cry, the sobs of a boy–

"Kurama!"

Pressure atop my foot and I gasped, sucking air into burning lungs. Heart hammering in my throat, I glanced down to see red staring back, grounding me, forcing the apparitions away. Swallowing, I forced away the hand at my larynx, knowing bruises would blossom within the hour. "I'm alright."

Only after studying me a moment longer did Hiei retract his foot, turning his full attention back to his opponent. Karasu had yet to move: unfeeling violet remained focused on me, though his gaze lacked the power of just moments before.

"If I were you, I'd call off my pet." Hiei's voice rose as Rui shifted into view, clutching her right hand to her breast. "The maids cleaned here this morning – I'd hate for his blood to spoil their work."

Her face blanched at his white-knuckled grip around twin hilts, the promise in his glare. "Karasu, stöðva."

Immediately, Karasu retracted his gaze, falling to one knee on the smooth stone. Though he kept both hands in plain view, I watched as he watched her, wings spread as if in mid-flight–

The similarities to our meeting hours before ate at my spine.

Rui stepped from the haven of those wings with care. The pain of moments before remained buried beneath a mound of ice, though she cradled her wrist with the utmost care. "Your Highness." She acknowledged, though her head remained perfectly erect even as Karasu touched his forehead to one knee.

Hiei growled, a low rumble promising blood. I gently squeezed his shoulder, stepping before my companion just as Rui had done. Hiei instantly fell silent, though he did not relinquish his hold on the blades. The deadly seed in my hand moaned, begging to be of use, yet I refused to draw it out – not yet.

"Lady Rui." A simple greeting and I bowed my head, eyes fixed on hers. Though I trusted Hiei without question, I refused to let my guard down, not after what just transpired. "To what do we owe the pleasure of seeing you so late this evening?"

"I could ask the same of you, your Highness." A slight rolling of the shoulders and she allowed her arms to fall, cunning tinting both irises. "Gandara's flora are infamous, Lord Kurama – your gardens are known even in our kingdom." She glanced at her companion before continuing, gaze tracing the contours of his wings. "After arriving we were unable to see them – such was our need for an audience with your King."

She stepped directly before Karasu yet I refused to move, following her only with my eyes. A subtle whine of metal signaled Hiei's watchfulness as well. "Thus, when I could not sleep tonight, I felt a tour of the gardens would help. Karasu naturally accompanied me."

Naturally. I fought the urge to scowl, face fixed in a wooden mask. "That does not explain how the two of you ended up here."

"No, I suppose it does not."She smirked, the slightest lifting of lips. "Schloss Wald is an impressive structure, my Lord – your people are right to be proud of your home. Never before today have I seen a fortress made of living trees." At the last word she reached out and touched a breathing wall, earning a soft groan from the wood. "That being said, the castle is immense, far grander than any structure in Hyouga. Though I consider myself to have a good sense of direction, I became lost rather easily, even with the trees' assistance."

My body tensed at this, eyes hardening against my will. Never had I heard accounts of any other than natural-born Gandarans being able to hear and understand flora, though now was not the time to think on such things. "Tell me then, what business do you have with Hiei?"

A soft hiss at my back and I felt Hiei stiffen, yet otherwise he did not move.

Rui's lips smoothed into a smile, a viper staring down an injured bird. "Our countries have been allies for a few centuries or so, correct?"

Only radiating heat signaled Hiei remained at my back; I could no longer hear his breaths. "I believe so, yes."

Her fingers wandered to Karasu's hair, absently petting the inky locks. Purple eyes closed at her touch, brows relaxing to the point of ecstasy. "Tell me, how much do you know of Hyouga?"

Hiei's revelations hours before came readily to mind and I bit back a grimace, watching Karasu melt into her touch. "Enough to serve Gandara's purposes."

She laughed at this, a bell-like sound which made the torches flicker. "A diplomatic response; I expected no less from Yomi's child." Karasu's eyes opened once again and he shifted closer to his mistress, gaze decidedly fixed on my throat. "Then we may speak plainly with one another – I desired Hiei for my bed."

My eyes widened and Hiei stepped closer, his forehead nearly brushing my shoulder. "I beg your pardon?"

"Forgive me if I've offended your sentiments, my Lord." Rui dipped her head, never pausing her ministrations. "You see, this mission was ordained by Queen Hina: she allowed me to bring along one man for the sake of speed, and while I acknowledge Karasu's eagerness, I am accustomed to at least two entertaining me at night."

A surge of heat, the barest tinkling of metal. I glanced down to see Hiei's right hand trembling, though from which emotion, I could not tell. Shifting my attention back to her, I allowed a fragment of anger to invade my voice. "Surely you realize that is an insult to King Yomi, as well as my house."

"I assure you, that was not my intention." She bowed her head once again, tracing light fingertips down Karasu's temple, the metal mask, his throat. "After meeting with your King, we mingled with the guests for a time and I asked if any knew of a willing man – any would do." Mint hair slipped readily over one shoulder, mingling with raven tresses. "Hiei's name sprang readily on each tongue, often with the assurance he would do whatever was asked of him – it appears your pet has quite the reputation."

The warmth intensified with every word. Perspiration trickled down my back, binding the tunic to my skin.

"Imagine my delight at hearing this!" She giggled, glancing coyly to my left. "Karasu knows many games, yet it's difficult to find a suitable playmate for him so far from home." Gray eyes rose to meet mine, stagnant depths filled with something akin to longing.

"Perhaps you would be willing to help, my Lord?"

Hiei snarled before the distinct sound of steel against wood filled my ears. Thrusting a blind hand back, relief swelled my gut when he allowed me to wrap sure fingers around his forearms, stopping him mid-draw.

A soft rustle betrayed Karasu. Facing forward, I saw he'd risen to stand before his lady once more, though he did not spare me a momentary glance. Attention focused solely on Hiei, he allowed his fingers to curl ever so slightly, both hands resembling a falcon's talons.

"So, you've trained him to heel on command." Rui said, derision dripping from her voice. "Well done, your Highness."

Hiei rebelled against my hold then – another growl, the slightest flexing of muscle – yet one glance and he ceased struggling, settling into a cold glare.

I refocused my gaze on her, choosing each word with care. "What I do in my home is my business, Lady Rui. Also," One quick glance to assure Hiei remained in control of himself and I aligned my feet with his, shielding his body completely with my own. "Hiei is a respected citizen of Gandara, as well as a member of the royal house." The seed cried out again and I pressed it further into my palm, comforted by the kernel's rough skin. "I do not know why you insist on speaking to him in such a manner. However, you should know such an offense carries consequences."

She dipped her head accordingly, though not before I saw her smile. "Of course, Lord Kurama. It will not happen again."

Karasu straightened at some unknown signal and stepped behind her, eyes roaming from Hiei to myself. I released my companion and met the Tengu's gaze against my better judgment.

Thankfully, invasive gray did not reappear.

"The hour waxes late." Rui said, glancing at the moon through a natural breach in the wall. "If you will excuse us."

They dismissed themselves promptly – her curtsying as he bowed – before gliding past us, feet silent against the well-worn stones.

"Oh, and Lord Kurama?"

I turned, shoulders tense even though my expression remained unchanged. Rui stood with her back to us, balanced on the balls of her feet much like a child attempting some game. One hand pressed against Karasu's chest for balance, she stretched the other upwards, fingers splayed to touch his chin, grazing the gleaming mask tenderly. He watched her with rapt attention, lids heavy, wings quivering with each pass of her fingertips–

Altogether, I felt myself an intruder upon something utterly private.

As if sensing my thoughts, she smiled over one shoulder; gaze voluptuous, ethereal:

"Be careful – he bites."

"Still don't understand why you let 'em walk away."

I sighed, massaging the bridge of my nose. Tender sunlight bathed the corridor before us, soaking through my cloth soles with abandon. Yusuke's stride matched my own effortlessly, though his eyes remained defiantly closed to the morning's pleasantries. As was his habit, my cousin wore neither shirt nor tunic beneath his outer garment. However, he'd changed into his best cotton plaid at Hokushin's request, hem falling to the knees of ivy breeches. Although each step appeared pronounced, bold, even arrogant, his bare feet met the wood floor without a sound. His stone club rested across both shoulders, held in place by tanned wrists.

Biting back another sigh, I acknowledged a guard's greeting with a smile, though the gesture took considerable effort. Nearly a week had passed since the midnight rendezvous with Lady Rui and Karasu, yet I'd seen little of them since. Father graciously adjusted the festivities to include our guests, honoring them alongside his only nephew with all the luxuries Gandara had to offer: lavish parties brimming with anything the palate could desire; live entertainment featuring fire-eaters, troubadors, and accomplished jesters; as well as feats of strength including archery and skittles matches, along with countless wrestling matches. While neither Rui nor her companion participated in these lively sports, Yusuke and his entourage enjoyed themselves immensely, soundly beaten by the Gandarans in archery only.

Still, despite the revelry, Hiei maintained his silence.

To my surprise, Yusuke was awake and awaiting us when we returned to my chambers that night. My cousin immediately noticed Hiei's split lip and swollen cheeks and demanded answers, anger raising his voice to deafening volumes.

Yusuke has never been known for his subtlety.

Still, Hiei did not answer his questions and refused to look at either of us before shouldering past Yusuke and disappearing into my bedchamber. I told the Oni prince all I knew but too many unanswered questions remained, too many variables, none of which explained either the Koorime or my companion's behaviors.

Hiei remained by my side faithfully for the remainder of the week – allowing me privacy only to relieve myself – yet still he'd spoken only a handful of words since the incident.

"Such matters must be handled with care, Yusuke."

Finally, my cousin opened his eyes to glare at me. "So watching a friend get smacked around is handling with care?"

I sighed, steeling myself for the conversation we'd had countless times over the past week. "Yusuke–"

"No, tell me how that's handling anything, Kurama!" A growl rumbled deep in his chest as his lips peeled back to reveal sharp fangs. Not for the first time, my gaze traversed to the barbarous crown atop his head – a circlet carved from wood found only in the deepest valleys of Tourin. Crooked black arms sprang from the circlet, clawing heavenward in a desperate bid for light, for power:

For blood.

"You see Hiei hit by someone you know he can't fight, listen to her talk to him like he's trash, spectate while she makes him bleed!" He hissed, voice receding all the while. While normally Yusuke remained fairly predictable, years of experience taught me to beware of his silence. Eyes narrowed to slits, he ground his jaw, hands tightening on his club all the while.

"Is that how Gandara treats its friends?"

I turned to face him fully then, willing all emotion away. We stood with precious little space between us – we'd stopped walking some time ago – and the anger radiating from him was palpable, nearly choking in its intensity. As a whole, Oni were renowned for their rage and my cousin was no exception. I'd witnessed first-hand the rashness accompanying Yusuke's anger – his lack of self-control when the emotion swept over him, as well as his regret when it dissipated – and knew this must be dealt with swiftly, logically. "What would you have me do, Yusuke?"

A raised brow; a knowing look. "Do ya really have to ask?"

I brought both arms behind my back, determined to uphold the ruse of helplessness. "All right, let's say I allowed Hiei to attack the two of them, that I even participated in the assault myself. What then?"

He blinked, anger ebbing into confusion. "Isn't that kind of self-explanatory, fox boy? Happens all the time: you lose your cool and get into it with someone; the two of you duke it out, throw everything you've got at each other. Then, after you've beaten each other stupid you make up and there's no hard feelings, like nothing ever happened."

It was my turn to raise a brow. "And what if who you 'lose your cool' with is of noble rank?"

Yusuke wrinkled his nose, fingers tracing the curve of one horn. "Well, that depends on the noble. If he or she's an Oni there's usually not a problem, same scenario from a minute ago. If it's a foreign emissary or some bozo from another land–"

Here his voice trailed off and those fingers dove into his hair, knuckles brushing the crown as he massaged his scalp. "Well, say you came to visit and we got into it, fists flying, blood and teeth everywhere, the works." He glanced down the hall, frowning at the thought. "I want to make up but you're still ticked with me being minced the night before–"

"Minced?"

He shook his head, waving dismissively. "Minced, tooteroo, hammered, however you want to put it." A frown as he met my gaze again, sliding the free hand into his plaid. "Point is, if you demand compensation I have to give it to you, whether it's gold or letting you beat me stupid. After that, it's over – we never bring it up again."

"Ah but see, things are not so simple in Gandara." I smiled, setting us apace again. "From what you've just said, I take it your actions have no bearing on King Raizen, or Tourin as a whole?"

A snort and Yusuke shook his head, shells and bits of brass clacking against his horns. "Pfft, no! Why would it? It's not anyone else's responsibility if someone ticks me off or I malk 'em. If do I go overboard, though, Hokushin makes sure I know about it – you saw that." He rubbed his forehead, grimacing at the memory.

The thought did not bring to mind the intended mirth. "You forget that our upbringings were vastly different, Yusuke: you were allowed the freedom to live among your people whereas I've never traveled outside the parameters of the capital. As the King's only child, I was never afforded that luxury. You also grew up without your actions effecting anyone other than yourself, much like a normal citizen. Tourin afforded you that, though the laws governing Oni and Gandarans are worlds apart."

Suddenly, my cousin grimaced, as if he'd bitten into a piece of sour fruit. "Look, I know what shorty's job is, alright? You don't have to be so dramatic."

A well-meaning sprig reached out as we passed, brushing tender leaves against my hand. Its touch reminded me of the angry hand prints marring Hiei's face; how he never protested, no matter what anyone did to him–

The thought made me sick.

"I'm not being dramatic, Yusuke, simply making a point. This is something you can't understand – not until you've experienced it yourself."

"Oh, come on, Kurama! You've always been a goody-two-shoes: always a daddy's boy, even when we were kids." He rolled his eyes, staring at the ceiling. "How much trouble could you possibly get into?"

A dry chuckle escaped my lips. "More than you could imagine."

Yusuke's mouth clamped shut and we walked in silence for a few minutes. Slowly but surely, the rest of the castle began to stir, shattering the illusion of privacy. We spotted several guards along the way, as well as a few nobles hailing from our respective countries. The Gandarans offered wan smiles and subtle nods as we passed, though Yusuke's men gave resounding yells and good-humored jeers, stomping the floor and pounding their chests with meaty fists. Yusuke smirked and lifted his club, returning their insults with a colorful palette and a twinkle in his eye. My people watched the display with well-veiled disgust, an emotion which would go unnoticed unless one knew what to look for:

It was a look I'd seen directed towards Hiei too many times.

Another clatter of shells and Yusuke glanced at me, expression inscrutable. "So, how much longer?"

The inquiry was low – the barest of whispers – not that the content would matter to anyone else.

I nodded towards a noble, the image of social grace. "Another summer."

He exhaled sharply, nostrils flaring. While the differences between our races were many, none set us apart so much as the idea of a mature age. In Tourin, a boy was considered a man after two criteria were met: fighting his first battle, and maintaining a true erection. Both attributed to the rich history surrounding the Oni as a warrior race, yet while the first held true for males in surrounding countries, Tourin remained the only kingdom which based manhood partially on a man's genitalia:

Such a thing was considered barbaric in Gandara.

Still, Yusuke met his people's standards years ago and had long-since been considered a man. The only reason he'd yet to take his place as king was that his father maintained his sovereignty, despite the Hunger's slow consumption of his faculties.

Things moved at a considerably slower pace in Gandara. My people were not considered mature until we had a few centuries under our belts, two hundred being the average. While I'd passed that marker long ago, father insisted on my gaining more experience, to not rush on as other races did. Still, he finally agreed to acknowledge my passage into manhood during the winter solstice, the day before we celebrated my birth:

My three-hundredth winter.

"Hey, wait up!"

The unmistakable clatter of metal against metal sounded in-time with the shout, heralding the arrival of our newest companion. Kuwabara ran towards us from the far reaches of the hall, garnering quite a few disdainful looks from his fellow nobles. He did well in ignoring them, though; not stopping to apologize to each like I expected. Thick plate armor adorned his legs and arms while shimmering chain mail stretched up his throat, erupting from the blue tunic covering his torso like a bubbling stream. Helmet held securely at his side, he moved with surprising grace, as if the old-fashioned plate weighed nothing. Finally, the sword on his belt – his grandfather's sword – beat against a protected thigh with each step, adding to the one man parade which was Kazuma Kuwabara.

"Huh, didn't know we were playing dress-up today." Yusuke quipped as the knight stuttered to a stop before us, hands draped either end of his club.

"Sh-shut up, Urameshi!" Kuwabara panted, leaning forward to catch his breath. Not an easy feat, if his expression was any indication. "You said we were meeting in your rooms!"

"Did I?" The Oni prince tilted his head back, contemplating, though I saw his minuscule smirk.

"Yeah, you did!" Kuwabara growled, gritting his teeth and straightening. "Do you know how long it took to convince your guardian that I didn't know where you were? How angry he was?!"

Yusuke grinned. "No," He replied, rolling his weight from his heels to the balls of his feet and back again. My cousin had never been good at containing his glee. "Tell me."

"He threatened to cut my balls off!" The human exploded, invading his personal space.

Suddenly Yusuke grimaced, unconsciously ducking his midsection away from our companion. "Wow, that's . . . a bit harsh, even for Hokushin–"

"Then he said he'd feed them to me, one-by-one!" Kuwabara screeched, ignorant of the ruckus he was making. "He meant it, too! I could tell because he had the same look in his eye sis gets when–"

"Perhaps this conversation is best suited for another time." I interjected, calling for their attention with raised hands. "If we do not leave now, we will be late."

"Right." Yusuke mumbled, scratching a horn before glancing at Kuwabara. "Hey, sorry about that."

Kuwabara blinked, clearly taken aback.

"I just wanted to get away for a bit, you know? In case you couldn't tell, Hokushin takes his job as my guardian way too seriously – he acts like I'll get kidnapped or something if I'm not guarded twenty-four-seven. Drives me nuts!" Here Yusuke paused, extending a hand. "I wanted to get him off my back but he went too far, threatening you with . . . that." He shuddered, shaking his head. "So I'm sorry."

I watched the exchange silently, fighting the smile which wanted to form. Much of Kuwabara's unease towards nobility had dissipated in the past week – at least where the Tourites were concerned – and it was all thanks to Yusuke. My cousin refused to respond to the knight's ingrained mannerisms and niceties, instead choosing to find what pushed the human's buttons and press them for all he was worth. Though Kuwabara refused to call him by his given name, a compromise had been reached by the end of their second day together.

Thus why he called Yusuke by his family name, something my cousin had yet to allow anyone else to do.

A unique bond was slowly forming between them, one completely separate from society's standards:

It was a truly marvelous thing to see.

The human hesitated a moment longer before returning the gesture, clasping Yusuke's hand in his own. "You owe me."

Yusuke snorted. "As if!" With that, we turned and continued on our way, Kuwabara taking up residence at his right side. "By the way," Yusuke wrinkled his nose, taking in the blue tunic. "You're not actually planning on wearing that, are you?"

"Yeah?" Kuwabara fingered the material, raising a brow. "What's wrong with it?"

"Uh, hello?" Yusuke allowed one hand to fall away from the club, pinching at his plaid. "Blue and yellow are the colors of the Urameshi clan, stupid! You can't wear one of my colors in the tournament!"

Kuwabara squinted at the sky-blue garment in Yusuke's calloused fingers. "Hey, blue's belonged to the Kuwabaras since before the Dragons' War – we had it first! Besides," He sneered, jerking a thumb towards his chest. "My blue's way cooler than yours – you've got a girly shade."

Thus began the long walk from the castle to the training grounds. As I listened to the two of them bicker and exchange spirited insults, I couldn't help but think of the day Yusuke arrived here, when the four of us walked to Schloss Wald together.

In that moment, I would have given anything to have another familiar face beside me, one who would silence or spur them on with a handful of words, depending on which struck his fancy.

Sadly, Hiei did not appear.

A/N: First off, sorry for the wait and that the tournament is being pushed back another chapter. I tried writing it with this one but it didn't fit but hey, that gives everyone something to look forward to.

Big thanks to Candid Ishida for great beta reading, as well as to lolab for the awesome cover art! I'll post a link to her page on my bio.

WhatWouldValeryDo: Glad you're enjoying TWB so far! Yes, new era means new roles. Wonder how the boys will hold up to their society's standards?

All right, so what's in store for Kurama and his friends? What's up with Rui and Hiei, and what does a tournament organized for Elves and Oni look like, anyway? Stay tuned for the next chapter!Also, be prepared for the return of a lovely lady. ;)

stöðva – Stop in Icelandic.

minced – Scottish for drunk.

tooteroo – Another Scottish word for drunk.

malk – Scottish verb for severely beating someone.