-1Alright, it's getting down to the last few chapters. I really do want reviews, you know. I wasn't just kidding about that. Is this because I made it clear that I have no cookies to give you? Is it?!
Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing that could get me sued, okay?
Mae stepped forward. "I didn't think I would have to do this, Kuri, but I do. You can't keep doing this."
"Oh, but I can. And I will," he smiled wickedly.
"But why? What's the point?" she asked.
"To make father proud," the boy replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Mae ran a hand through her hair exasperatedly. "I think I was a little unclear when I told you about Youko, son…" she sighed regretfully.
"It wouldn't have mattered. I asked around in the underworld. They told me all I needed to know," Kuri sneered.
Kurama became extremely fascinated by the ceiling at the suspicious stares from his fellows.
"You brought this on yourself," Mae said firmly.
Kuri rolled his eyes.
What he didn't think of was that he'd never seen his mother fight. He didn't know how strong she was, or what she could do. He'd never really cared to ask, being preoccupied with his father-search.
She hunched her shoulders and exhaled a lingering, ghostly breath, vanishing in a cloud of smoke.
"Come out, come out, mother!" Kuri called, amused.
"Boo," a voice rasped behind him, pressing something cold to his throat.
He gasped, off guard. Then, collecting himself, he conjured vines through the stone floor and wound them around her ankles.
She laughed, her breath whistling around his face. Then, more smoke, and she was gone, his green manacles useless. A shadow demon, he realized. Unable to contain.
She reappeared before him, solemn. "You have one chance to change your mind," she offered gravely.
"I don't take chances," Kuri said at once.
"Suit yourself," she hissed out a breath, and was gone once more.
"Is this how you intend to defeat me, mother? By playing hide-and-seek?" Kuri asked, amused. "I lost interest for that game when I was ten, have you forgotten?"
"You would do well to hide, boy," Mae rattled eerily from the shadows.
"Really?" he asked smugly, making no move to do any such thing.
"Really," Mae nodded before appearing as a shadow on the floor beside his own. With a sure motion, she ran it through with a shadow-dagger.
His shadow collapsed, and then disappeared.
He gasped, feeling as if an organ was just cut out, and sank to his knees.
He didn't realize Mae had reappeared and was standing directly in front of him until she spoke. "Without one's shadow, one is not whole. Their presence is weaker, not strong enough to even change the light. Your arrogance will be your downfall, Kuri."
With a mighty yell, Kuri unexpectedly lunged forward and plunged a knife into Mae's stomach.
She gasped, then choked and collapsed, her eyes open and glassy.
"Mae!" Kurama cried, rushing forward, but being halted by his own mistake. Kuri.
"Not to worry. Soon enough, you'll be joining her. In hell," he smirked, lingering on the last word like it was sweet chocolate on his tongue.
Kurama threw him back against the wall. "You just murdered your own mother!" he yelled disgustedly.
"I know," Kuri said with a smile.
"You are not your father's son," Kurama said icily, his voice dripping with hatred.
"And how would you know?" Kuri asked defensively.
"You're looking at him," Kurama explained flatly.
Kuri looked furious. "How dare you even try to-?"
"You were conceived by accident. I was poisoned the next morning, and almost died from it, so I fled to the human world to take up this form," he explained. Even as he spoke, he wondered why he bothered. Perhaps he thought he owed it to his only child. That and nothing more.
"Why should I believe you?" Kuri asked.
Kurama grinned garishly, as if he were possessed by satan himself, then the room was shrouded in thick smoke.
Kuri glanced around from side to side quickly, like an animal caught in a trap. "You playing hide and seek, too?"
As the swirls of gray dispersed to the walls, Kuri saw his father, the legendary bandit Youko Kurama standing before him, looking evil and ready to attack.
Kuri's eyes bulged and his face paled. A moment later, after he had realized what his true father had said about him, he looked slightly mad. Disturbed.
"I nearly died once to save my own human mother," Youko said slowly, his eyes never leaving Kuri, who was now looking frightened. "She was ill. I used the Forlorn Hope to revive her. At the cost of my own life. Luckily, I survived, but it wouldn't have mattered; I would have done it anyway. You say you wish to be like me, but you just killed your mother…" he said, casting a pained glance to Mae. "Before I was worried I wouldn't be able to kill you…" he looked to his son, "but that won't be a problem anymore," he finished, not a hint of doubt in his calm voice.
Kuri gulped. "Youko! No! You should be proud of me! You should love me! You should join me!" he shrieked.
Youko drew his rose whip in reply. "The only thing I would join you in is death," he spat scornfully.
Kuri glowered at the father who was not who he thought he was. "Fine, then. It'll be this way!" he summoned two swords of leaves, and got into a fighter's stance.
Ruki stepped forward to protest, but Hiei held her back.
"This is between them, now."
She opened her mouth to protest, but he shook his head. "I won't lose you to this."
Not a word was spoken between them after that, but Ruki found his hand and clasped it tightly.
Father and son circled each other, weapons drawn, pasts tied.
Youko's golden eyes kept flooding with images of Mae; laughing, smiling, crying. He remembered the feel of her skin, and the press of her lips; the way her body felt when she snuggled next to him in sleep. She couldn't be dead. She just couldn't. He needed her.
"What's the matter, father? Lovesick?" Kuri taunted.
"Yes," he struck, cracking his whip and lancing Kuri in the shoulder. The wound was deep, and blood seeped onto the cold floor like sacred dye.
Kuri gasped in pain and grimaced. "Bastard!"
Kurama nearly smiled at the absurdity of that statement. "Calling the kettle black, aren't we?"
Kuri glared daggers, but Youko wasn't impressed. He meant to summon a whirlwind of razor-petals, but hesitated. As much as he despised the creature before him, he couldn't bring him to a painful death. Instead, he conjured a deadly vetch seed, one of his favorites, as a last favor to his delusional son. Perhaps the association would make his passing easier.
He felt the small shell of the seed in his clenched fist.