Yomi entered the room, only to find Kurama sitting stiff backed on the edge of the bed. A deep growl from the demon was all the warning Kurama had. He let his body go as limp as possible as the blind man attacked him.
The first blow knocked him from the bed, sending him to the floor. Other blows followed, pushing deep into his body, assailing his lower back and sides, pushing the air from his body. He gasped, trying to grab onto precious breaths even as more vicious blows forced the air from his lungs.
Pain tore through his insides as Yomi forced himself deep inside Kurama's body. The blows continued, though they're ferocity subsided a bit as Yomi's stiff flesh tore the tender skin of the helpless human. Kurama screamed, he'd felt pain, but the added sense of such violation seemed to make it all that more acute.
Even in the best of situations a human's body would have little chance to keep pace with a demon's. A demon in love with a human would have to go through extra pains to keep from ripping their beloved lover, or from taking them beyond the brink of exhaustion.
The only care that Yomi was taking was in making sure that Kurama survived that much longer to experience that much more pain. He'd seen his old second in command lose his temper before, though the worst was recently, when faced with the bounty hunter. Yomi, apparently, hadn't mastered the level of calm and collected that he'd desired, to have lost his temper yet again.
Spots exploded in front of his eyes, his mind, his world, reeled. He felt as though he was about to die - devoid of his spiritual power, unable to move. Yomi's violent physical assault seemed to be renewed as he pumped in and out of Kurama mercilessly. This was not the death he pictured for himself, in this world or the human one. This was not a death of honor, or glory, or even a noble death to save the lives of his friends. This was meaningless.
Yomi must've felt the same way. Breathing heavily he stopped his assault, putting a strand of hair back into place as he straightened. He turned and stepped out of the room without a word, his robes and demeanor in place as though nothing had happened during his visit within the cell.
Laying on the floor, drowning in pain as it lay over top that which he hadn't fully recovered from to begin with, Kurama realized his error. Yomi hadn't wanted him to give his body to him willingly. He'd wanted him to break, to beg for something that he didn't really want.
And while he didn't want to give himself to Yomi, he'd made it something that was more on his own terms. Something that, regardless of what was transpiring, Kurama was still in control. Still only doing that which he had consciously decided to do. He'd hope his acquiescing to the situation would be a suitable compromise.
Obviously, he'd hoped incorrectly.
Laying on the floor, wondering if anyone would come in to heal him, or if he'd be left to breathe his last breath cold and naked on the pitch black floor of a prison cell, he let his mind drift. He needed to be able to survive this. He needed to set things in motion to keep Yomi from bringing about his unification. He needed more than his pride…