Disclaimer: I do not own these characters.
Warnings: This chapter is definitely rated M for language, verbal abuse, and implied torture. I can't say I enjoyed writing certain paragraphs in this chapter, but they had to be done or the characterization wouldn't make any sense.
Thanks again to my favorite reviewers, TheNotSoNiceLibrarian and KyoHana!
TheNotSoNiceLibrarian - Happy Holidays! Hope I managed to keep you guessing in this new chapter!
KyoHana - Hope you had a wonderful Christmas! Ohh..I think you know who master is. :D He's pretty much been typecast as Master of Kurama. Though, sometimes I think Toguro as master is more interesting. Wouldn't work here though. He's not cruel enough, I think.
And of course, a big welcome to all new followers! Please don't be shy and leave me some feedback!
There was no telling how long it would take for the pair of cypress doors to open. Set on a wall of wooden panels, the doors were ornately adorned with carved lions heads and darkened brass hardware. The ceiling moldings were covered in gold leaf and the walls were painted a luxurious burgundy. All this reflected the taste of someone who desperately wanted to invoke an image of old money. At least that's what Kurama had once overheard a visitor opined, since he didn't know what old money was supposed to look like. Whatever style it was that the waiting room was supposed to mimic, one thing was for certain: this room made him uncomfortable.
One of the walls was completely lined with taxidermic hunting trophies, rows upon rows of mounted heads in expressions of anger, agony, sadness, and fear. A broken army staring intimidatingly into nothingness that made the hairs on Kurama's back stand every time he sees them.
Directly across were two large mahogany seating chairs upholstered in plush blue velvet and a low lacquer table, but that was not where Kurama was seated. Instead, he was naked on the marble floor with his legs folded beneath him and his torso wrapped in a plain sheet. After all, it wouldn't do to dirty the exquisite furniture with his blood, regardless of whether or not he had succeeded in the assassination. Now that he has failed, it would be wise to be the nail that bends rather than the one that sticks out. The state of his body would not be able to endure further hammering.
It was not his arm that he was concerned about, rather it was the wound on his back that was the graver injury. While initially he was high and numb on adrenaline, burning pain now radiated from his lower back and it was obvious that he'd been scorched badly by hell fire. There was nothing he wanted more than to lie down on the cool marble tiles but he knew doing so would prove disastrous for him. Instead, he pressed his fingers onto his temples and rubbed in a slow circle, trying to relieve the dense fog that had clouded over his mind. He had a lapse in memory again. Everything leading up to the assassination attempt was perfectly clear, from the praise that the pretty Princess with hair the color of milk matcha showered him with, to his anxiety that the hidden needle in his thigh might be discovered, to the liquid courage he borrowed to psych himself up for the attack, and finally to the way the King kept asking him about a fox.
What he does not remember was how he got away. This was no big surprise since his memory has been rather spotty ever since that incident, years ago. His last recollection of the encounter before darkness overtook him was the way black fire curled and danced around the King's withdrawn fist, like a shy maiden skirting around a suitor she fancied, and how he knew, in the deepest recesses of his mind, that this would be the man that kills him. When the darkness finally receded, he was stirring on the lawn of his clan's compound and Bui sama had come out to collect him. Only to unceremoniously dump him in the seating room without treating his wounds.
With a quiet click, the cypress doors opened and the man Kurama had been waiting for appeared. Long limbed and sharp angled, he was late afternoon shadows personified. Long jet-black hair and flamboyant coat tails fluttered after him as he casually strolled towards Kurama. Inside the room, a young man with long violet blue hair loosely held in a ponytail was cooly redressing himself. Tucking his legs beneath him and bowing his head, Kurama made himself as small as possible.
"So you've returned, my child. Alive but failed. I see you've managed to lose your clothes as well." The tall man circled around him.
"I'm sorry, Poppa." Kurama didn't need to see the slight frown hidden under the metallic mask that covered the bottom half of Poppa's face to know that he was displeased.
"Of all my chosen ones, that dwarf of an abomination had to choose you. God only knows why he would pass over Shishi or even Touya for a filthy little fox. If he had chosen either of them or any one of the other twenty assassins we had planted, the job would be done now." Poppa bent down next to Kurama, eyes half lidded as he visualized the debauchery he whispered, "Did he fuck you long and hard? Did he pound and churn the spot that makes you beg for more? Did he make you scream his name or gag and bound you? Did you swallow and let it slide down your throat or is his seed still dribbling out of you as we speak?"
Pearl white teeth clenched and pale hands held the thin sheet tighter about him. None of that happened, Kurama wanted to counter, but his inability to even entice the King would be an even greater disappointment to Poppa. Besides, good children are not supposed to argue.
"And after all that, you couldn't even distract him long enough to kill him. Are we in the business of giving out free rides now? Hmm, child?" At the last question, Poppa lifted Kurama's chin so that his upturned head would meet the tall man's cold violet gaze. The pretty fox silently mouthed the word sorry.
Poppa dropped his chin and started pacing. His polished black Oxfords clicked loudly on the marble floor while he continued his tirade, "I should be collecting a purse of gold right now instead of standing here with you, wasting my time. I'm not convinced that you're grateful, child. I housed you, fed you, clothed you, trained you, and brought you under my wing like you were one of my own and you're repaying me with failure? Hmm? I regret naming you as one of my chosen children."
Kurama bowed his head, ashamed that he was not able to meet Poppa's expectations. He had known that abolishing the hellion king was imperative to the continual success of Poppa and Bui sama's organization and that the charitable donation from the supporter would ensure a lifetime of comfort for not only Poppa, but also for all of the children under his care. His recent failure was simply a sign that he had forsaken the kindness that Poppa have bestowed upon him.
Poppa's demeanor suddenly changed, and he lowered his voice to tenderly coo, "don't get me wrong, my child, I love you, but your only talents seem to be choking on my cock or spreading your legs and being stuffed full of me."
Poppa's eyes twinkled and curved upwards in delight as he delivered the final insult. It pleased him to no end when Kurama dropped the arms he had wrapped tightly around himself and his whole body went limp, a signal of surrender if there ever was one.
"Now, my sweet child, what have you got to say for yourself?"
"Poppa, I owe you my life. My body, my mind, and every moment of my life belongs to you. I will be whatever you wish me to be." Shuttered eyes spoke volumes about his distress, both physical and emotional. The frail kitsune summoned the last of his energy to envision a more peaceful place. The ocean materialized in his mind's eye, waves rendered pink by the dying rays of the day's light crashing against a rocky shore. A sigh marked his resignation.
"I'm glad we have an understanding, my sweet." Poppa kissed him gently on the crown of his head, running long skeletal fingers through his tangled mane before tearing the soiled sheet from the battered body, ripping clotted blood and charred skin. "Look at you. It's only been a few months since I'd last seen you and your hair has gotten so damaged. You've got to take better care of my property."
Straightening himself, Poppa commanded, "Shishiwakamaru! Clean him up." Instantly, the blue haired youth was by their side, roughly lifting Kurama by the injured arm and disdain written clearly all over his face.
"Poppa, with all due respect, this mutt has been nothing but trouble. I've proven myself to be more capable in every single way. There's no reason to keep him around." Kurama leaned against him, too busy fighting a losing battle against unconsciousness to care.
In an instant, long Midnight hair crackled to life and paled to gold. An explosive aura of firecrackers burst forth from the tall man. Kurama winced. Cold eyes that froze Shishiwakamaru's blood regarded him while Poppa spoke, "I don't recall asking for your opinion, my child."
Quickly, Shishi bowed as deeply as he could manage with the burden of the half-fox around his shoulders. "I'm sorry Poppa! I spoke out of turn. Please forgive me." He angled Kurama in front of him as a weak shield of protection.
"Contain yourself, Karasu. You're scaring your children," said Bui as he entered the over-embellished waiting room. At the sight of his second-in-command, Karasu recomposed himself and his hair slowly darkened back to black. Bui turned to Shishi, "run along now before your Poppa changes his mind."
Bowing again, Shishi hastily made his exit with the fox in tow. They collectively sighed in relief, letting go of the breath they have both been unconsciously holding.
Bui sat down on one of the velvet chairs and frowned as he watched Karasu's pets leave. He turned to his partner and with an air of respect, remarked, "You know Karasu, how you spend your share of our income is your business, as long as you don't confuse that redhead for an investment when he is simply a luxury item."
"Bui, Bui, Bui. You know how I like to pamper myself, I can more than afford a little luxury."
"If that is the case, then I hope you'd never send him on another mission again. Stealth and beauty alone does not make a good assassin," Bui continued, voice stoic with no trace of condescension. "I don't imagine you would ever release the aura suppressants you have on him."
"I like my roses without thorns, thank you very much." Karasu strolled forward to face Bui, placing his hands on the armrests of the chair and leaning so close that he could feel the muscular man's breath on his face. "By the way, did I miss a memo about today being voice-your-opinion day? First Shishi, and now you. You can all save your breaths, my sweet half-fox is not a topic for discussion."
"Fine. If you are satisfied with a porcelain doll, who am I to argue? Just bear in mind that the next time you accidentally smash your favorite doll, don't expect me to put it back together again for you."
Karasu straightened uneasily then waved a cadaverous hand in a dismissive flutter. "Ah Bui, you are much too serious. I'd just get another. Now, let's discuss a more pressing matter. A certain fire brat King still need to exterminated."
"I will deal with that mess. There's an angry client we need to placate and that's certainly not your area of expertise." Bui stood and was about to exit when he paused and turn back to Karasu. Folding his arms in front of his chest, he said, "If I didn't know any better, I could have sworn you are in love with that doll, the way you coddle him and keep him around."
Karasu raised an elegant eyebrow and pointed a bony finger at his own chest. "Coddle? You think I coddle him?" Black hair once again began to fade to gold and Karasu's voice took on a manic pitch. "I'll show you how I coddle him!"
"Shishi!" Karasu shouted, golden hair sparking to life and squirming wildly about him like eels. "Bring him to my chambers when you're done with him!" Turning, he tromped back to his room, microscopic explosives detonating all around him while he muttered darkly, "Coddle? Me? I don't coddle him. I'll show you. Coddle, my ass. Me? No. I don't coddle."
Bui shrugged as Karasu's doors slammed shut. Sooner or later, it was bound to happen. If this was the way his partner was going to dispose of the half-human, so be it. It had been a long time coming. This distraction has got to end.
"Kind sirs, please give me a chance to bid farewell to my brother properly."
The jailer, a spotted brown satyr, held his hands up, shaking his head, "No can do, pretty bird. Strictly no visitation for condemned criminals."
"Please sirs, he's the only family I have left. Just for a few minutes, please?"
"You'll see him soon enough," said the other jailer, an oni with a rounded belly, with a smirk on his face. "At the execution tomorrow. You can expect a crowd though, that mongrel's been stealing from everybody!"
"No please, I beg of you!" Beads of tears welled from lovely amber eyes. "I'll do anything to see my nisan one last time."
"Anything, you say?" The oni held an oil lamp up to the lovely creature's face and regarded her with lecherous eyes. Certainly, she had a pleasing face, delicate features offset by piercing eyes all framed by a faded headscarf. While it was difficult to tell whether or not she had a nice figure under her long hooded cloak, standard attire for a resident of the slums, the jailer was quite certain she was too young to have acquired any womanly curves yet. Oh well, her face was pretty enough. "15 minutes if you blow us both."
Pale skin became even paler and a dainty little mouth fell open, aghast at the proposition. The other jailer quickly rushed forward in protest, "Hey Yasuda, quit it! That's totally against the rules! Besides, she's just a girl! You can't possibly expect her to — "
By abruptly leaning forward and placing a delicate hand on his loins, the young girl effectively cut the jailer's argument short. With her free hand, she undid the satyr's belt and threw the heavy leather to the ground with a loud clink of heavy keys. "I promise you won't regret it," she stood on her toes to whisper, a sensual expression on her fair face.
Yasuda grabbed the maiden by the wrist and said, "Hey little bird, me first!"
"Oh dear," said the girl, pink rising to her cheeks. "Please don't fight. Perhaps there is a gentlemanly way of settling this? A coin toss, perhaps? Or arm wrestling? You sirs have such strong arms." She ran her hands down the arms of the two men, all the while keeping Shrimp in her peripheral vision, watching as he quickly picked up the forgotten keys and then race towards the cells. Underneath the disguise, silver ears twitched in excitement and a thick tail fluffed itself twice.
Immediately locating Half-Breed based entirely on the loud racket he made while he banged against the prison bars, Shrimp put a finger to his mouth to shush his rowdy friend then quickly tested key by key until he found the right one. Unlocking the door, he whispered, "Let's get outta here. Any longer, and Fox would really have to give those two idiots head." Half-Breed raised his eyebrows incredulously, not certain that he heard right.
Locked in a match of strength, the two men were too distracted to notice the two street urchins making their way out of the jail.
As soon as his friends were out of sight, Fox dug his nails into his arm to draw out a torrent of tears. "I can't do this after all," he cried, sobbing hysterically. "Brother would torment himself if he knew what I had to do to see him." He pushed away from the men, ready to make his escape.
"Oh no you don't," the lewd oni called after Fox and grabbed him by the waist. "Not after you've gotten us all riled up! You'd better finish what you started!"
"Please sir," Fox said, trying to pull himself free, "I am but an innocent maiden. I beg of you, this can't be the last memory my brother has of me. I won't be able to live with myself!"
"Cry all you want, girly, but I intend to get what I was promised. What do you say, Gumi? How bout I hold her down for you?"
Fox looked at the satyr pleadingly, summoning the widest, most innocent eyes he could muster, willing another torrent of tears.
"But —" Gumi started to protest.
"But what? Who's going to believe this little bitch from the slums over upstanding citizens like us?" Yasuda picked up the small body and threw the pretty creature over a desk, pinning fragile arms.
Morality lost the battle to lust and Gumi slowly made his way towards the desk, caressing a flushed cheek. Fox writhed. He considered his options. He had but one bluestem seed, which he could turn into a small gray-green blade and take advantage of the element of surprise to cut off the filthy manhood of one of these lechers. One, not both. He would be quickly overpowered by the other. And then what? He would be the new tenant to Half-breed's recently vacated cell. If he did it, it would be Yasuda he'd cut. Not only was the oni stronger, but he was also more obnoxious. Or, he could cry for help. Would Shrimp and Half-Breed be able to hear him? Even if they could, they wouldn't be strong enough to overpower the two jailers anyway, that's why he and Shrimp choose trickery over brute force to begin with. Or, he could always squeeze his eyes shut and just blow these two jailers. He would finish, and then they would take him to Half-breed's cell only to find it empty. The ensuing chaos would provide plenty of opportunities to escape. Fox wrinkled his nose at this thought. His pride for his survival and freedom. It was fair trade.
"Please don't hurt me," lush lips opened to beg. "I'll do it, I'll do it. I'd even swallow! Please, let me down."
The two lustful men released their grip, and Fox sank to his knees before them and began to loosen the oni's belts. He looked up at Yasuda with large tearful eyes. This sadistic bastard clearly loves to watch others submit before him and the feeling of power. If Fox played his cards right, spilled tears at the right moments, made the right pained expressions, this would be over shortly. Withdrawing the man's fully erect penis from within his breeches, Fox tucked stray strands of hair into his headscarf and took a deep breath, catching a whiff of the man's musk.
"Hello Mr. Guard? I'm here to pick up my Pa."
The satyr quickly whirled around and the oni pushed Fox away. Before them was a grubby child with raven hair that defied gravity and startling red eyes.
"Who?" Gumi quickly rushed towards the child, trying to shield him away from his partner's loosened trousers and the girl on the floor.
"The barman told me he started picking fights and was taken here to sleep it off. He has black hair and red eyes like me. Oh, and he has a big bushy beard. Ma will be angry if he doesn't come home tonight."
"Umm, sorry kid, no one of that description is here."
"But the barman said —"
"I know where you could find him," Fox rushed forward and took the child by his hand. "They only have condemned criminals here. Here, I'll take you to your Pa." Taking a last sidelong glance at the two astonished jailers, Fox quickly yanked Shrimp towards the entrance and into the darkness of the night.
As soon as they were outside, Half-Breed appeared from the shadows. They took a quick look at one another and then started running, not once stopping to catch their breaths until they were at the Bridge. Upon reaching their safe haven, the three street urchins burst out laughing. Half-Breed was folded over, gleeful that he has a second chance at life; Fox threw his head back in relief that he didn't have to do the despicable thing that he thought was his only way out; and Shrimp flopped on the ground laughing off the nervous energy that started building when he saw the predicament that Fox was in.
Pointing at Fox, Yusuke spoke between attacks of laughter, "You! You! You actually...dressed as a girl...were you really gonna...gonna give those guys…" Foxed kicked him, face reddening to match Shrimp's eyes. Half-Breed had clearly hit a nerve.
"Ungrateful prick! That was just a ploy to distract them. It was Shrimp's idea!" barked Fox, offense clear on his voice.
"Whoa Shrimp! Never knew you had a thing for lady boys!"
"Shut up, Half-Breed. There's no way I could ever pull off disguising as a girl! It had to be Fox."
"Heh! You totally could pull it off! You'd be one hell of an ugly girl though!"
Unable to form a snappy comeback, Shrimp glared at his friend until his glower erased the smile from Yusuke's face. Half-Breed rubbed the back of his head awkwardly and mumbled a sheepish apology and a thank you. Satisfied, Shrimp got up from the ground to help Fox with the sacks of belongings he was hastily putting together.
"What's all this?" Yusuke asked, poking his nose in one of the bags. Inside were a few articles of clothing, a small pouch of seeds and herbs, several shiny baubles, and a canteen of water.
"We're skipping town," replied Fox, snatching his bag from his friend and handing him an empty one. "I've managed to secure passage to Holcane, the port city, for us. Pack what you need, we leave first thing in the morning."
"Wait Fox. I get why I have to skip town, every single vendor in this city is after me. But you two don't need to tag along."
"I'm not tagging along. I need to get outta here because I've conned one too many people," Fox divulged. "Shrimp didn't intend on coming, but now that he's shown his face to the jailers, it's better if he leaves with us."
He turned to Shrimp. "Unless there is something holding you here that I didn't know about?"
"Hn. A little seaside air will do me good."
"How the hell will we pay for our way though?" Half-Breed asked.
At his friend's inquiry, Fox produced a small pouch of coins from his pocket. With a self-satisfied grin on his face, he responded, "Our friend Yasuda's got us covered."
Early the next day, when the sun was only just making its presence known with a faint splash of azure against Prussian blue, the boys loaded themselves onto the back of a fish monger's cart to leave the town they have grown to think of their home and venture to the port city that would tear their little crew apart.