Part One: Mishian

The Youko girl Mishian gazed doubtfully at the nest of leaves. She squatted down and poked at the contents of the nest. The litter started crying. Damn. What was she supposed to do with these things? She was too young for this, but she knew enough to recognize that she had made a serious mistake. It was too late in the season, and all the signs pointed to a particularly nasty winter ahead. It had already snowed twice and it was only the middle of October. She knew she was a weak creature and when food got scarce the strong ones would come after her. If they could find her. One of the pups was still mewling. She smacked it gently on the chest a few times hoping this would comfort it into shutting up. It stopped abruptly, and she wondered if she had damaged it. She looked at them uneasily for another long minute, her fox ears twitching this way and that. But no sound came from outside the lair. She was safe for now. Mishian tried to ignore the ache of hunger inside her. She was alright for another day or so. She didn't feel light-headed yet.

There they lay, so infuriatingly helpless. Two males and a female. Instead of hair, they had mere fuzz growing on their heads. Their tails were little stubby things. The pointy ears on the tops of their heads were so thin as to be translucent. They didn't have any teeth! And she didn't even know if they were supposed to be like this. She remembered her friend Shurisa who had had a litter once. "Their eyes don't open for a month!" she had said knowledgeably. But she hadn't mentioned anything about teeth. Shurisa had sold her litter for a sword and a sack of provisions before they met, so Mishian never saw them. She peered closer at her hapless offspring. Two of them had light green hair, if you could call it that. Just like she did. Only hers was long and fine and shiny. The other pup had silvery stuff on its head that looked almost blue or lavender. Yes, it was more promising than the others. But then again, just because it looked like its father didn't mean it had inherited the man's power as well. This one never cried, as if it sensed the danger all around them. Maybe it was picking up on her fear. On the other hand, maybe it was just defective.

Well, she could fix this mistake. Humanely. She wasn't cruel. She wouldn't simply walk away and leave her litter to die. Nor would she trade them away for anything. Shurisa would have called her wasteful, but there it was. Mishian was weak. Weak in power, in body, and apparently in mind as well. Maybe hunger had made her light-headed after all. She reached out to the female pup and closed her hand gently around its flimsy little neck. Then she squeezed quickly with all her strength. How easy! It lay twisted and broken. She put her hand next on the male who looked like her. Just like snapping flowers off a branch. It made a little choking sound and she squeezed harder. It was too bad, but she could try again some day, if she survived.

Finally she slid her fingers around the throat of the other male.

"I saved you for last," she told it confidentially. It sighed drowsily, and slowly, with much contortion of its chubby face, it opened its tiny eyes. They were a deep gold color. Mishian gasped and jerked her hand away. The pup blinked at her. Then it shoved its fingers in its mouth and went to sleep. It looked so peaceful and trusting, snuggled in between the corpses of its littermates. So perfect, compared to the two ruined ones. She broke out in a cold sweat. The thing was only three days old. Had Shurisa lied to her? She turned her back on it and curled up tightly by herself under a torn and dirty blanket. She was tired and shaken by the day's events. Well of course she was tired. She had had a difficult time when the pups were born. There had been a lot of blood. She hadn't been up to foraging for food since then. Tomorrow she would bury the two dead pups and find something to eat. Not today... The silver haired pup was welcome to live through the night. She would decide what to do about it... tomorrow... Mishian fell asleep.

Morning dawned cold but sunny. The low-lying meadows were suffocated under thick, faintly yellow mist. It restlessly twisted and roiled in slow motion, and by the time the sun burned it off there was almost nothing of the meadows left alive. Perhaps the mist itself had been alive. Who could tell? Mishian gave the area a wide berth and headed for the outskirts of the forest. The Youko girl moved cautiously, noiselessly through the underbrush. Spotting a suitable vine climbing a tree trunk, she pulled off a handful of the finer tendrils. Then she crept on her stomach the rest of the way to the small watering hole. Nothing was there. No -- wait! A rabbit was darting forward to drink. She drew all her ki to a point, focusing it on the tendrils in her hand. Almost ready...

"Achuu!" came a sneeze from her back. The rabbit fled. She sighed and cursed silently. Remind her never to have pups again. She had tied the ridiculous creature up in a blanket and slung the awkward bundle onto her back when she went out this morning, more to put off making a decision about it than anything else. Should have left it in the lair. Maybe something would have gotten it by the time she returned. It was heavier than it looked. Ah! The rabbit was coming back! But it was coming around from the far side of the pool. Her vines wouldn't reach that far quickly enough. Noiselessly, she reached into a pouch at her side and pulled out a fist-sized rock. Power was tricky, but a rock, now, was something you could depend on. She cautiously raised herself to her knees and flung the rock, clocking the rabbit neatly between the eyes. Perfect! Limbs splayed, it went flying into the underbrush. She waited, listening, and then crept around the pool, scooped up the rabbit, and scurried back to the lair.

Mishian pulled the pup off of her back, glad to be free of the weight. She used her belt knife to slice open her rabbit, and began chewing off hunks of it and gulping them down. After a while she sighed and sat back. What a mess! There was blood in her hair and all over her face and hands. Well, she had been hungry. She glanced down at her pup. It must be hungry too. But it didn't have any teeth... She picked up the pup in one arm and what was left of the rabbit in the other and held the dead animal so the blood would drip into its mouth. Yes, it seemed to like that. She watched it, fascinated despite herself, as its chubby little mouth worked, opening and closing, like a flower blossom that closed at a touch and then opened, waiting to be touched again.

"Alright, I'll keep you," she said to it. "If you live through the winter, I'll even give you a name."

They both lived through the winter, and Mishian was relieved to see sharp little teeth appearing in its mouth. On the first warm day that was really spring, she named him Kurama. He grew bigger, and demanded an alarming amount of food, which she had to chew up for him until all his teeth were in. It was hard for her to give up perfectly good food after she had already gone to the trouble of chewing it up, and, having chewed it up, didn't you feel that it belonged to you? Didn't you feel robbed giving it up? Of course, the more Kurama ate, the bigger he got. Well, the sooner he became big and strong and independent, the better.

A second spring came, and a second winter. Then a third spring. She rarely spoke to him, but he watched her constantly with his wide yellow eyes, and clumsily copied her actions. He picked handfuls of grass and sent power lurching through the broken spears, spewing huge leaves in random chaos. He threw rocks wide and short. He seemed okay by himself -- he never wandered off or made a lot of noise. So she began foraging without him, first for a few hours at a time, then a few days, and then as much as a week at a time. She left him something to eat in her absence, if there was anything, though she suspected he stuffed it all in his mouth the moment she was out of sight. She always fondly imagined that on her return he would eagerly run up to her, relieved that she had come back safely to him and delighted to see what she had foraged or caught. In reality, though pleased enough at her return, he was often unimpressed by her bounty, and generally looked suspiciously well-fed. Of course, 'well-fed' was a relative concept. By her standards it meant only that his ribs weren't showing much.

One September afternoon she found herself returning to the lair after more than a week. It was not the same lair in which Kurama had been born, of course. She changed hiding places frequently. This time Mishian came back empty-handed. She was annoyed at herself for her failure, but it was getting cold again, and game was scarce. Unaccountably, though, she felt embarrassed to face Kurama with nothing to show for a whole week. She knew he had a lot more potential than she had ever possessed. If he lived, he might be really formidable. And he knew it too. She saw it in his eyes lately. He knew he was better than she was. If he had to go hungry, so be it -- he was used to that, from time to time. But his eyes would accuse her of being weak. She sighed as she reached the hidden entrance to the lair. And she stopped short. Something was terribly wrong. The bushes that had sheltered the entrance had been uprooted and burnt, and black scorch marks stretched down into the narrow opening between the two rocks that made up the doorway.

"Kurama?" she called softly. There was no response. No movement or youki either within or without the lair. She swallowed and braced herself, then crawled inside. It was painful and tight, as smaller shards of rock had been dislodged recently to block the entrance. There was something in here! A large shape, and an unpleasant scent. Her heart pounded as she blinked, willing her eyes to adapt to the darkness. A large body. She crept forward. Some kind of demon, well-dressed, dark skin, indigo maybe, there wasn't enough light to tell. Stringy short hair. It's head had a funny shape. Dead. She crawled back outside to think, and gasped. Kurama was standing there, watching her come out as his youki rose and settled into its familiar level. The sun reflected brilliantly off his shoulder-length silver hair. He looked pleased with himself. Relief washed through her.

"...Are you alright?" she asked him.

"Mishian, you see what Kurama got?"

"...I saw it. How did you get it?"

"Kurama was, um, sleeping, and it came in with fire and Kurama maked plants go around its...here..." he pointed.

"Its neck," she supplied.

"Neck. And...and then it lay down and sleeping and Kurama hit it with rock." He acted this out proudly.

"What a big boy you are!"

He beamed at this praise.

"Look! It have this bag!" He dragged a knapsack over to her and opened it, his little fingers struggling with the buckles. He shook the contents out on the ground. Some small cooking and eating implements, a small book and a case of writing tools, a blanket -- and a small bag of jingling coins! Mishian spilled them out and counted them.

"Pack this up," she ordered, waving at the contents of the knapsack. "We'll go back to one of the old lairs." She disappeared back inside. By the time she came out, he had stuffed everything back into the knapsack. She carried their few possessions, and also the clothes and a bracelet the demon had been wearing. She shoved these in as well.

"Kurama, did the demon have a knife?" she asked. He pulled up his shirt and she saw a really nice knife in a decorative sheath belted around his waist.

"Give it to Mishian."

"Kurama's knife," he argued.

"Give it." She fixed him with a stare that she meant to be intimidating.

"Kurama's knife," the boy insisted, and in the end he stared her down. Cursing, she picked up the bag and stalked off. Kurama trailed after her, satisfied. Only three, and already his life was going this well.

"The hell are you doing, Kurama?"

He looked up at her.

"What's this?"

"It's a book, I guess."

"Kurama looking at this book."

"I see that."

"What's it for? It doesn't do nothing."

She thought about it.

"You could rip the paper out and use it when you start a fire."

He considered this and dismissed it.

"Look, black things all over the paper. It looks like dead bugs."

She nodded.

"That's writing. Like pictures, only harder."

"Huh?"

"Look." She squatted down beside him and sketched with a stick in the dust. "What's this?"

"Lair. And...river."

"Right." She drew some more.

"Big tree where Kurama fell out," he said, excited.

"Right." She drew an X between the tree and the river. He stared at it.

"What's that?"

"What do you think?"

"Where Kurama fell out of tree?"

"Forget that. Suppose you came back here and I wasn't here, okay? But I had left this picture for you. What would you do?"

"Ummm...go and look where this is," he said, pointing at the X.

"Why?"

"Maybe is food. Hiding in the ground. Or Mishian waiting for Kurama."

"Good, you're smart."

He smiled.

"Now, writing, books, are like that, only more. If Mishian could write and Kurama could read, Mishian could draw a picture like this," she indicated the characters in the book, "and Kurama would see that it said, umm, 'There is a fat, juicy piglet hidden under the rocks by the dead pine tree near the river'."

He laughed at this pleasant thought.

"Is this book tell about piglets?"

"I don't think so. Forget about it. If you want a piglet, go catch one yourself. And bring it here. Mishian's hungry too."

"Kurama read this book."

"I can't read that. How do you think you can?"

"Mishian weak. Mishian not have enough youyoku to read," he pronounced. She laughed at him.

"It doesn't have anything to do with youRYOku. Even humans can learn to read. And they don't have any power at all. But it takes years and years and years to learn. So give it up. --Or worry about it later," she added hastily, seeing the stubborn look in his eyes.

"Kurama learn to read!"

"You're going to learn to read that?!"

"Damn right."

She contemplated grabbing the book away from him. He was getting too aggressive lately. He made her nervous. Remind her never to have pups again... She stalked off into the trees. If you wanted anything done around here, you had to do it yourself.

Kurama was glad when she left. He could study this new thing without her disapproving stare on his back. He turned the pages, completely absorbed. He tried tracing a few of the figures in the dirt with the stick Mishian had used. There were even a few pictures -- not the magical kind with the hidden meanings, but pictures anyone could understand. Mostly big buildings, bigger than anything he had ever seen, with rooms and passageways, and even a few of the X's that Mishian had indicated meant something nice could be found there. Had Mishian seen these pictures? Probably not, or he had the feeling she would have tried to take the book away and keep it for herself. He closed it carefully and rubbed the cover against his face. It smelled nice. He was determined to learn this new magic.

When Kurama was six, Mishian took him to a Gathering of Youkai. He had never seen so many people! Some looked more or less like him, some didn't. There were colorful tents and the smells of unfamiliar foods cooking and even a few pups running around. He had never heard so much noise before, either. Laughing, shouting, music, metal clinking. The harsh sound of vehicles with motors. People were trading things and selling things and now and again arguments erupted into bloodshed. Kurama's eyes were wide as he took it all in, ears twitching this way and that at every new sound. He tagged along behind Mishian, observing as she exchanged a few coins for a new outfit. Good choice, he thought. The dappled green pattern would blend into the undergrowth. Some shiny metal trinkets at another stall caught her eye, and she selected a necklace and purchased that too. Bad choice. The sun would reflect off it. Also, it might make noise. She didn't buy him anything, and he didn't ask.

Suddenly, she stared at a group of men making their way casually amidst the bustle.

"Kurama!" she hissed in a whisper, "How do I look?"

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"Do I look okay? Is my hair messed up?"

"Oh. No." He tilted his head and evaluated her. "Kind of thin."

"Well I can't help that NOW, can I, idiot?"

"Mishian, what's wrong with you?"

"It's your father!" she whispered in an awed tone.

He turned to look. The tallest of the three men had long silver hair and wore a fine patterned tunic with a sweeping cape. Very impressive looking. This must be the one she meant -- the others weren't even Youko. They had funny round ears growing out the sides of their heads. The three men were talking. Mishian jerked him back around to face her and dusted his clothes off vigorously.

"What did you get into?" she wailed, rubbing at his cheek with her fingers. When this didn't work, she licked her fingers and tried scrubbing at him again.

"Mishian! Quit it!" he wriggled out of her grasp.

Whether because he had seen her, or because the name had caught his attention, the Youko man stopped and turned to look at them. His companions stopped as well.

"Someone you know, Maraku?" inquired the shorter round-ears.

"Ma-Maraku-sama..."

"...Mishian. ...That was your name, wasn't it?" The man had a deep voice.

She flushed and nodded vigorously. Kurama looked from his mother to the man and back. She sure was acting strangely. The man gave her a little smile, not even a very warm one, but her whole face lit up.

"I didn't expect you'd still be alive. I've never seen such a weak Youko. ...A pretty one, though." He glanced at his companions, and they nodded in agreement. Kurama considered this new idea. He had never thought of her as pretty, or anything else. She was just there, usually scowling at him, occasionally laughing in a friendly way. But if Mishian was pretty, the man was more beautiful by far. Will I look like that, wondered Kurama, if I grow up? This Maraku had the grace of a predator. Mishian looked graceful when she held still, but mostly she gave the impression of a little animal scuttling through the grass in a flurry of limbs, flinging itself towards safety. Kurama suddenly hoped Mishian had gotten the dirt off his face.

"Well, we have some business to attend to," said the man, hefting the bulging sack he carried over his shoulder by way of elaboration. "Maybe I'll see you again in a few days, if you're not leaving early." He touched her face casually, then began to walk away. Mishian looked as if she didn't know whether to be pleased or downcast by this. Suddenly she grabbed Kurama by the arm and dragged him unceremoniously in front of Maraku. Kurama wished Mishian had not involved him in this. The man looked at him now with narrowed eyes.

"This is your pup?"

She nodded, biting her lip.

"And I supposed you mean to tell me that it's MY pup too?!" The man seemed angry. Why should he care? What did it have to do with him anyway, thought Kurama. The two round-ears laughed, and one of them clapped the Youko on the back.

"It looks just like you," the man grinned. "No way you can argue your way out of it."

Maraku glared at his companion.

"Did you used to look that cute? And short?" laughed the other round-ears, reaching out a finger and poking Kurama on the nose.

Maraku turned his glare on him, and then on the woman.

"Mishian! You idiot! No one has pups at that time of year! Do you think I would have shown any interest in you if I thought..."

Kurama decided he didn't like this man much.

"I'm sorry," she pleaded. "I didn't know..."

"Stupid woman. Stupid little girl. If and when I decide to have pups, they're not going to be contaminated with blood like yours."

Kurama expected Mishian to get angry, but she just collapsed on her knees, pale, and wrapped her arms around him possessively.

"Don't hurt him, okay? I'm sorry. I'll take him away. We won't bother you..."

The man sighed and put down his pack.

"Let go of him."

"But..."

"Uh, come on, Maraku, let's go," suggested one of the round-ears. "Come on, leave them alone, okay?"

"Let go!"

Mishian obeyed. Kurama brushed himself off, a little embarrassed. The man suddenly picked him up by the back of the shirt and lifted him up to eye level. They looked at each other for a long moment. But Kurama was the one to be stared down. He flushed angrily. His shirt was sleeveless. It was easy enough to slide out of it by raising his arms over his head. He fell to the ground at the man's feet and scrambled up, pulling out his pretty little knife and holding it with both hands. One of the round-ears was laughing. Maraku kicked him over easily and not particularly viciously.

"Kurama, stop it! Put the knife away!" begged Mishian. He lay on his back blinking up at the red sky. Footsteps were approaching. He slid the knife back in its sheath and put his hand down into a tuft of thistles growing among the other weeds. Maraku was right over him now, looking down disinterestedly. Clenching his hand tight on the little thorns, Kurama screamed. Power snapped out of him and poured upward. The man looked startled for a moment, and then the waves of thistles surging up towards him blocked Kurama's view of his face. Maraku manifested some kind of power and shattered the plants as they swirled around his head. But there were tiny cuts on his cheek and hands.

"Very good. You surprised me," admitted the man grimly. Suddenly he shot a hissing, jagged bolt of something like lightning at Kurama. Exhausted from expending so much power, Kurama only had time to brace himself for the impact. It shocked agonizingly through him and he struggled not to black out. He heard himself scream. It didn't sound like his own voice. It must have been Mishian screaming then. Kurama lay stunned, blinded and deafened for a moment. Then the world faded back in. He forced himself to his feet, took a step, and fell down on his hands and knees again. The second time he managed to stand up successfully.

"Let the kid be, Maraku," the nicer of the round-ears was suggesting. "He's got spirit. And potential. I bet you weren't that good at his age."

"No sense in killing him," put in the more practical one. "You could get four or five hundred for him up in Hinashi."

The man considered Kurama.

"What did you attack me for, pup?" he demanded.

"You made Mishian unhappy," Kurama replied, looking up at him.

"Hm. Mishian! Quit snivelling. I'm not going to kill it."

"...Maraku-sama!" She had been clutching Kurama's little shirt. Now she dried her tears and wiped her nose on it.

"...What's its name?"

"Ku-Kurama."

"Kurama?!"

"I'm sorry...I couldn't think of anything, okay?"

The man swung his gaze back to the boy.

"Kurama. What do you think of me?"

"You talk a lot," said Kurama, uttering the first observation that came into his head. Much laughter from the round-ears. Mishian cuffed him and apologized for his lack of manners.

"The powerful can make as much noise as they like," Maraku informed him.

Kurama decided that 'powerful' was another word for 'strong.'

"Who roars and howls in the forest at night?" the man continued. "And who hides in the bushes silent and trembling? Or, to put it another way, the powerful talk, and the weak listen and do what they're told."

Kurama nodded. That made sense. The man meant to say that he was very strong and Mishian and Kurama were weak.

"I tell you what, pup. I don't want to see you again until you're grown up and then only if you're strong enough that I won't be ashamed of you. When you're good enough to challenge me, come looking for me, alright? But in the meantime, I'll give you a present. What do you think about that?"

"If I grow up to be big and strong I'll have better things to do than look for you, Maraku," said Kurama, and Mishian hit him again.

"So nice of you to give him a present, Maraku-SAMA," she said, before the man could change his mind, and giving Kurama a meaningful shake as she pronounced the title. He wished she wouldn't shake him. He wasn't feeling so good. He felt like his insides had all been burned slightly.

"I'll let the pup pick," said the man, glancing at his companions to see if they were impressed by this generous gesture. He opened his pack and searched through it. He pulled out a medallion on a chain, a gold ring with a big jewel on it, and an exquisitely carved little figure of some goddess or other. Mishian's eyes lit up at the choices. Kurama didn't give them more than a glance. He looked up the man.

"Can you read and write?" he asked.

"What? Of course."

"Show me how to write my name," said Kurama. Mishian shot him a furious look. Trust Kurama do something bizarre and screw up this chance. Remind her never to have pups again.

"Is that what you want? Instead of one of these things?" asked Maraku, amused.

"Yes."

Mishian whispered something urgently into Kurama's ear.

"Yes, please."

The man put the three items back in his pack, and pulled out a flat box. From this he produced a sheet of blank paper. He sat down cross-legged, put the paper on the lid of the box and stared at it for a moment.

"What characters do you want me to use?" he asked Mishian.

"Oh, whatever you want, Maraku-sama."

The man glared at her.

"Well, how the hell should I know? I can't write," she protested helplessly.

The man turned his attention to Kurama.

"Come here. Give me your hand."

Kurama held out his hand. The man pulled a knife from his belt and drew the blade quickly against Kurama's index finger. Then he held the boy's little hand firmly in his own big one, and pressed his finger down on the paper. Without hesitation, he traced a complicated series of lines. Kurama watched, fascinated. Even after it was finished he couldn't pull his eyes away. Maraku and Mishian were saying something to each other, then the three men were leaving, but he ignored everything and sat carefully holding the page with his finger in his mouth and his eyes big, watching the blood dry.

Part Three: Ruu

That night Mishian made a snug, makeshift lair for him far enough from the bustle of the Gathering that he would have quiet, and hopefully, safety. She fed him, and then left. Kurama couldn't sleep for a long time. It had been an eventful day, and he had a lot to think about. Mishian didn't come back and she didn't come back. He peeked out of the lair and he could see plenty of activity still going on in the distance. Maybe she had gotten Maraku to pay attention to her? Well, that didn't seem likely. He crept out, crossed a field, and approached the edge of the lighted circle. The full moon gave plenty of light even without all the torches and bonfires. Kurama watched for awhile, slowly circling the perimeter. He spotted Maraku with his two friends, laughing and in good spirits, playing some sort of game with little colored stones in front of a crackling fire. They must have made a nice profit. Or maybe they were drunk, but that didn't occur to Kurama, being outside his range of experience. Mishian wasn't with them. He returned thoughtfully to the temporary lair, with silent caution that had become automatic. He curled up and went to sleep with his tail tucked under his chin.

Morning dawned, and Mishian was shaking him awake. She pulled him outside and he stood blinking, the dew cool on his bare feet. A Youko man was standing impatiently some distance away. Kurama had never seen him before. He was not nearly as impressive as Maraku, nor as dashingly dressed, but he didn't have Mishian's half-starved look either. His hard, masculine face and light pink hair made an odd combination. Mishian was wearing her new green dress and necklace. She did look kind of pretty.

"Kurama," she said, shaking him to make sure he was fully awake, "Mishian has to go now."

"Huh? We're going?"

"...Mishian and Ruu are going. You're all big and grown up now. You can take care of yourself. So it's time for me to look after myself for a change." She gave him an odd smile.

"What are you...? That's a lie! I'm not grown up!" He stared at her in amazement.

She turned and looked pleadingly at Ruu, who snorted and shifted his pack, as if eager to get moving.

"I told you I'm not going to have some pup hanging around me that isn't even mine. Are you coming or not?" The man distastefully brushed an insect off the front of his tunic.

"Kurama...do you think I would leave you if I didn't think you'd be okay? Your chances are probably just as good without me."

He looked at her, paralyzed with shock.

"Look, don't be selfish, okay? I gave you your life and I let you keep it. I took care of you for six years. What more do you want? My whole life? Be reasonable."

He stared at her awhile longer, then unbuckled the strap that held the beautiful knife around his waist. He held it out to her silently, hilt first.

"Sorry, you can't bribe me into staying," she reproved.

"You can have it," he said simply.

For a moment, he thought she might cry. Then she took off her own plain, utilitarian knife that wasn't very sharp and exchanged with him. She put her hand under his chin, tipped his face up, and took a long, searching look at him. Then she turned and left him forever.

He watched them disappear into the woods. Neither of them looked back. Kurama stood very still. After a long while, a single tear trickled down his cheek. He dropped the knife and slid his hand up to his chest. It felt like there was a cold empty space there. His hands were cold, too. Makai stretched out infinitely in all directions around him. The sky went on forever over his head. How had he not realized before how big the world was? Now he turned slowly, looking at his surroundings for seemingly the first time, completely bewildered. Mishian had never been very demonstrative, but occasionally when he had been very frightened or badly hurt, she had smacked him gently a few times on the chest to comfort him. He patted himself on the chest. Don't worry, he told himself. Don't worry, maybe it will be alright. He was only six, and already his life was going this badly.

The sky was a dull red, as always. Smothering clouds and lightening storms made their slow way over the tortured landscapes of Makai, never in the same place from one day to another, never disappearing. In fact the storms seemed to gather strength and take up more of the sky every year, something Kurama himself aspired to do.

He had to admit that Mishian had been right. The years passed and he continually failed to die. He grew taller and filled out. When he was with Mishian, he had thought it normal to be hungry half the time, but now, after the first miserable months, he was almost never hungry. Instead, loneliness came and went. The emptiness had shifted from his stomach to his heart. And eventually he got so used to it that he didn't feel it any more. Kurama taught himself to make traps, and was constantly redesigning and improving them. He studied the properties of different plants. His power grew and he constantly experimented with that as well. He became more confident in his ability to defend himself. He roamed far across the wilderness that was Makai and saw many new things. Some of the things tried to kill him and some didn't. Kurama left a lot of corpses behind him and the tentative beginnings of legend. He travelled light, but kept his book with him and looked at the pages often, pretending he could read, until the day he lost it in a river somehow. He traced his name in the dirt.

And one day he met a boy.

It was early spring and it had been raining all day, a heavy rain mixed with sleet. Darkness was falling. Kurama had devised a snug lair a few days earlier deep in the underbrush, by causing vines and plants with large, broad leaves to grow densely together, layered until they were waterproof. The rounded ceiling was too low for standing, but Kurama could sit up with ease, and it was long enough for him to stretch out comfortably. There was a short tunnel for the entrance. He probably should have closed it over with plants, but he liked to look out. Now he was curled up drowsily listening to the rain. He had two dead rabbits in the lair with him, for whenever he should feel hungry. Lately, for some reason, it seemed the world was not such a dangerous place as it used to be, and keeping a dead rabbit for a day or two did not automatically bring scavengers sniffing around. Suddenly Kurama was fully alert. Footsteps and youki. He had been wrong to keep the rabbits after all. He braced himself. A face peered in.

"Anyone in there?"

There was nothing threatening in the voice or the ki. Kurama didn't know what to do. He opted for silence.

"I know you're in there. I can feel your youki." The face squinted into the relative darkness of the lair. A child's face, wearing a big, floppy black hat, dripping rain. The face disappeared. Curious and a little disappointed, Kurama peeked out of the tunnel cautiously to see where the face had gone. The boy in the hat smiled down at him.

"Can I come in?"

Kurama crawled back inside and huddled against the back wall of the lair. The boy took that as an invitation and squeezed in the tight opening. He slumped tiredly against the leafy wall as rivulets of water ran off his clothing and trickled across the dirt floor. Kurama watched the water spreading and pulled his feet back out of the way.

"Sorry," said the boy. He sounded cheerful but Kurama saw that he was shaking from the cold. He took off his hat and wrung it out in the entrance tunnel. Kurama thought a moment, then coaxed the vines to grow in to cover the floor in a rough lattice pattern. The intruder was startled at first and scooted back into the tunnel to keep out of the way. When Kurama was done, the floor was a relatively smooth criss-crossing of plants that allowed water to drip through out of the way. The boy squeezed back in, nodding in approval, and introduced himself.

"My name's Kuronue." He had black bat-like wings growing out of his back. He wore a black sleeveless vest and black loose pants, and strips of cloth wrapped around his arms. His clothes and dark hair were plastered to his skin from the rain. He had a nice, waterproof bag that bulged in an interesting way. Kurama looked him over hesitantly.

"Ku-ro-nu-e...." repeated the boy slowly, pointing at himself. "Can you talk?"

"Yes!" retorted Kurama, embarrassed. When was the last time someone had talked to him? Other than to shout some threat. Or beg for mercy. And either way, he had never felt inclined to reply.

"What's yours?"

"My...what?"

"Your name."

"...You have funny ears." Kurama was staring at Kuronue's ears, which came out of the sides of his head and were the same color as his skin, but were long and pointed.

"Not any funnier than yours, kid. Come on, don't you have a name?"

"Yes. It's Youko Kurama."

"Hmmm..." The boy rubbed his arms, his teeth chattering. Kurama gathered up his blanket in both arms.

"You can use this."

"Thanks!" The boy reached out eagerly for the blanket.

"Take your clothes off first. You'll make the blanket all wet." This talking thing was coming back to him. Kuronue stripped off his clothes, his movements a little jerky as he couldn't stop shaking. He wrapped himself up in the blanket and sat back down across from Kurama, the wall giving slightly as he leaned against it. Kurama stuffed the rabbits and the bag that contained all his possessions up in a little hollowed-out alcove near the ceiling so there would be more room. His guest finally stopped shivering. The rain continued outside.

"How old are you?"

Kurama looked down at the floor for a long while.

"It's okay, if you don't know."

"...I'm thinking."

"Oh. Sorry."

"...Ten."

"Hmm... I'm twelve. When I grow up I'm going to be a famous thief."

Kurama suddenly felt very protective of his rabbits and his blanket.

"My parents were thieves, too," the boy continued, oblivious to Kurama's reaction. "They were teaching me. But they died a couple years ago in a raid that was a set-up..."

Kurama could think of no comment he wished to add to this conversation. He lay down tight against the wall, leaving Kuronue space to lie down as well. It would be warmer with two, even if he didn't get to use the blanket. That was good. But it made him very nervous to think of sleeping next to someone else. When he was asleep he would be completely helpless. The boy looked exhausted, but he kept talking, mostly about the glories of being a thief. If he had the strength to do that, he had the strength to attack, or to run away with the rabbits. Maybe he was feverish. Kurama was getting tired just trying to listen to him. Finally the boy trailed off drowsily and stopped in the middle of a sentence about fortifications, sliding down the short distance to the floor. Kurama forced himself to stay awake until he was sure Kuronue was really asleep. The gentle snores certainly seemed realistic. They reminded him of Mishian. Slightly reassured, Kurama closed his eyes as well.

Next morning Kurama woke up ravenous. The rain had stopped but the ground outside was still pooled with water and the sky threatened to begin in again. Kuronue stirred and poked his face out of the blanket.

"Are you hungry?" asked Kurama.

"Nnnoo," replied Kuronue cautiously after looking all around the lair for what food might be available. Kurama pulled a rabbit down from the shelf. He sliced it open, licking up some of the blood and letting the rest drain down through the floor. He cut out a chunk from its side and stuffed it in his mouth.

"That's disgusting!"

"What?" Kurama was taken aback. Here he was, being hospitable. Here he was, trying to make a good impression.

"Don't you want to cook that?"

He gulped the mouthful down. "Cooking takes too long. The longer you have something, the more likely that someone can take it away from you. Besides, they might see your fire. If you could find anything dry enough to burn." He was out of breath after this long speech.

"Who's 'they'? Kurama, are you paranoid?"

"Am I what?"

"Never mind... Where did you come from, anyway?"

"West."

"West where?"

"...Just west. I've been walking east all this time."

"How long is 'all this time'?"

"Umm....." A long silence. "Four years."

"Huh?! Why?"

Kurama shrugged, licking blood off his fingers.

"You've been walking east for four years for no particular reason?!"

"Yes." Kurama glared at him defensively.

"Well, is there somewhere you want to go? Something you want to do? Are you looking for someone?" Kuronue was apparently a goal-oriented boy.

"...I want to learn stuff."

Kuronue nodded approvingly.

"Listen, stick with me and I'll teach you a few things, okay?"

"Yes, please." Kurama helped himself to another piece of meat.

"...First thing, I'm going to civilize you."

"Ci...vilize?"

"Civilize. Um... it's a question of, are you a person or an animal. See?"

"I'm both," said Kurama proudly, flowing into his fox form and looking up at Kuronue. Crackling with youki, the fox gave the appearance of being more spirit than flesh and blood. He had a multitude of tails. Power swirled around him, ruffling his fur.

"That's cute, Kurama. But when you're a person, you should eat like a person, okay?"

Out of respect for Kuronue's concept of civilization, Kurama stayed in his fox shape to eat the rest of the rabbit. Then he ambled outside and rolled in the wet grass to clean his fur. His guest crawled outside after him. Kurama licked a paw clean, then resumed his person form.

"How come your clothes come back?" asked Kuronue. Kurama looked down at himself.

"I don't know."

"What if you were in your person shape and you put on a really heavy backpack, so heavy you could barely stand up, and then you changed into a fox -- could you carry it a long way and not get tired? Or would it disappear forever, or what?"

"It would go away when I turned into a fox and come back when I turned into a person but it would still be heavy all along," explained Kurama tentatively. Actually, he wasn't sure. Why hadn't he wondered about things like this before? Maybe having a companion to talk to was a good thing.

"Hmmm... If you carried me on your back, would I be invisible?"

"I'm not carrying you anywhere, so it doesn't matter," answered Kurama, deftly avoiding the word he didn't know.

"Hmm... I guess it wouldn't work. Just a thought." The boy stretched, extending his wings.

"Can you fly?" asked Kurama, gently touching the wings. They felt like smooth leather.

"Not really. They help me jump up to high places, and I can jump off cliffs and things and kind of glide."

"Like a chicken," laughed Kurama.

"Hmph. Yeah, I guess so. What about your tail?"

"Huh?" Kurama half turned around and examined this part of his person.

"Your tail. Can you do anything with it? You know, like pick stuff up, swing from trees..."

"It's a fox tail, not a monkey tail," Kurama said reprovingly. Swinging through trees seemed a rather undignified thing to do with a tail.

"So what was it like in the west?" asked Kuronue curiously, expertly skewering some fish over the embers of a campfire late that evening. The sky had cleared up after all, and they had discovered some wood dry enough to burn.

"What do you mean?" asked Kurama, watching the dinner preparations a little doubtfully.

"Well, no one goes west any farther than the far edge of the forest, except really strong Youkai. Or if they go, they don't come back. People tell stories about what it's like on the other side of the mountains."

Kurama looked over his shoulder. A red sun was setting in the red sky. The mountains were barely visible in the distance, rising out of the seemingly endless forest. It taken him months to cross them.

"It doesn't seem so dangerous here. And there's not so much lightning in the sky."

"Yeah. Here, hold this." Kuronue handed him one of the long sticks he had stuck the fish on. "No, turn it, or it will burn. Yeah, like that... They say the Youkai over there are mostly like wild animals."

"Not civilized," put in Kurama.

"Right. But here, the strong ones like money more than blood. Well, the weak ones do too, I guess. Anyway. This whole area, to the other side of the valley there, pays tribute to Zagai. And she protects them from other strong Youkai so they can keep making money for her. Even some humans live around here."

"Humans?" Kurama was curious. He recalled Mishian saying they had no power. And they could learn to read.

"Here, try this."

Kurama took the cup Kuronue offered and sniffed at it. He looked up at his new companion, unconvinced.

"Try it. Careful though, it's hot."

Kurama took a sip and promptly spit it out.

"It's called 'coffee.' Don't spit stuff out, okay? People will think you don't have any manners."

Kurama stared into the cup. Well, he could see the benefit of having something hot to drink in cold weather. Maybe he could get used to it. Kuronue was watching him with a frown. He forced himself to choke it down as he recalled his first and so far only encounter with humans.

He had come across a group of them in the forest one day, seven half-grown males, trying to be quiet but making a huge racket and broadcasting their weak but distinctive ki in all directions. When they finally saw Kurama watching them, they had begun throwing rocks at him. They were all bad shots. Eventually they had run. Several days later he had not been surprised to stumble across their half-eaten corpses.

Kuronue pulled a small box out of his well-stocked knapsack.

"Do you know how to play cards?" he asked hopefully.

Part Five: Bika

Some weeks later Kurama persuaded Kuronue to show him the little village where the humans lived. It was strange. He had gotten used to being alone and thought he liked it that way, but now that Kuronue had arrived, he felt suddenly curious about other people's opinions and about how they managed to live. Kuronue wasn't interested in humans and wouldn't come with him, having, he claimed, better things to do. Kurama approached the village cautiously. It was well fortified with a double wall of logs with sharpened tips, so he couldn't see inside at all. There was a watchtower sticking up in the center of the village. Kurama knocked on the door. After a long wait and much commotion, he was let in. Thirty or so humans were assembled, staring at him. All of them carried weapons except for one middle-aged woman. She was short and plump, with her hair up in a bun. This woman stood in front, flanked by two heavily armed men. She pointed at Kurama and an energy glow began to build up around her fingertip. Interesting. Mishian must have been wrong about humans having no power. Not only was the woman's power weak, it wasn't the youki he was familiar with. It was something else.

"Who are you?" demanded the bearded man on the woman's left. "Are you alone? What do you want?"

"Don't shoot," suggested Kurama to the woman. "I'll jump out of the way and you'll blow a big hole in your wall."

"I asked you some questions!" shouted the man, taking a few steps towards Kurama.

"Tsuruke, don't frighten him," said the woman gently. "And please move. You're blocking my line of fire."

The man stepped back abruptly.

"Please answer his questions."

"My name is Kurama. I'm alone. I came here because I wanted to learn what humans are like."

There was a long pause.

"I want to talk with him," decided the woman.

"Bika-san, what the hell are you thinking?"

She sighed.

"One. I don't feel that he's lying. Two. It doesn't make sense to make a Youkai angry. Three. He's a child. And four. I have the Rei-gun." She looked challengingly around at the others.

"Go outside and talk to him then," called a voice from the crowd, but no one else said anything and the speaker did not come forward. The woman let the light in her fingertip die out and beckoned Kurama over to her. The assembled men and women muttered but didn't try anything. She must be the only one with power in the whole village, thought Kurama.

Bika led him to a small hut and ducked inside. He followed her, without needing to duck. This must be her lair. Or, what was the word Kuronue used? Her camp. Inside a young girl was rocking a small human pup. The girl stared up at Kurama and clutched the pup protectively. Amazingly, she looked prepared to fight him for it. Why would he want it? The inside of the hut was full of baskets and mysterious tools and brightly colored blankets. There were funny smells he couldn't recognize, but nothing seemed threatening.

"It's alright, Akina. You may go. Thank you for watching her."

The girl put the bundle down and disappeared quickly.

"Is this your pup?" Kurama asked, getting down on his hands and knees to examine it.

"Yes. We call it a baby," she said. "We only use the word 'pup' for animals."

"Can I pick it up?"

"If you're very gentle. Here, pick her up like this," she demonstrated. Kurama picked it up. It began crying immediately. He hurriedly smacked it on the chest, which made it cry louder. Bika quickly took it away.

"You mustn't hit a baby like that, Kurama."

He hugged his knees, feeling bad. Bika smiled at him and stroked his hair.

"It's alright. She's not hurt. You meant well, didn't you?"

He brightened a little at the tone of her voice, but he wasn't sure he wanted her petting his hair. He wasn't used to being touched.

"You remind me of a little kitten," she was saying, holding the whimpering baby against her as she examined Kurama. "Do you like to be scratched between the ears?"

"No," he replied firmly, and then hoped he hadn't offended her. But she merely smiled in apology.

"Sorry. I'm not used to Youkai. I don't know much about them. I guess boys don't like to be fussed over, hm? Even boys who aren't human."

The baby finally was comforted and stopped crying. Kurama determined to try again with it. He put his face up to its little face. It didn't seem so frightened of him now that it was in its mother's ample arms. Kurama pulled some bits of flower petals out of the pouch at his waist and startled the baby by producing a handful of brightly colored blossoms. Bika gasped in delight. The baby gurgled happily and reached out to them, shredding them and tossing the ripped petals in the air.

"Oh...what a waste," sighed the woman, trying to keep the baby from stuffing them in its mouth.

"I can make some more," offered Kurama, gathering up some of the petals and making more flowers.

"That's beautiful...What a wonderful gift you have, Kurama. Can you make roses? They're my favorite."

"I don't know what that is."

"Come, I'll show you." She took him out of the hut and along a path to the back wall of the village, where three small, scraggly bushes stood.

"They're not doing well," Bika sighed. "And also, it's not the right time of year for them. But there are a few blossoms left."

Kurama put his hands on the unpromising plants. Leaves poured out of the branches. Stems produced buds which folded immediately out into deep crimson flowers. The bushes became thick with blossoms. Bika laughed and held the baby down for a closer look. Several other humans came over to watch from a safe distance. Carefully avoiding the thorns, Kurama pulled off one flower and examined it. It was elegant. He liked the smell, too. He began thinking of things he could do with it.

"These roses grew outside our house in our little village in Ningenkai," reminisced the woman, gently touching the rose he had broken off.

"Ningenkai?!"

"Yes. We came here when I was four, but I still remember the roses. My grandfather brought these and transplanted them, but we had white ones too."

"What kind of white?"

"Mm...creamy white, not pure white."

"Like this?" He handed the rose to her, now a rich cream color.

She smiled and took it from him. He selected another one from the rose bush and tucked it carefully in his pouch. He would explore its properties later.

"Kurama, maybe you can help us out with our vegetable garden," she suggested.

Afterwards, she gave him something to eat and drink. He was glad to rest. He had expended a lot of youryoku. Kurama sat out in front of the hut enjoying his meal and looking around. He was thankful for even the rudimentary lessons in civilization he had gotten from Kuronue. He politely chewed his food, and licked his fingers clean when he was done. He didn't spit anything out. Most of the villagers were busy with the unexpected harvest, but Bika bustled around her hut taking care of Kurama. He suspected the other villagers wanted her to keep an eye on him. They were grateful for the food, but they didn't trust it completely, and they obviously wished Kurama would leave. Poor Mishian hadn't had the power to produce food like that, or they wouldn't have been so hungry all the time. Or perhaps she had just lacked the imagination. No, he was pretty sure it had been beyond her. What was she doing now? Was she still alive? Did she ever miss him?

Just as he was beginning to feel lonely, Bika brought him some more soup and some odd stuff she called 'bread,' and sat down to eat with him. An older boy went by, awkwardly carrying a half-full basket of colorful squash. He stopped to stare at Kurama.

"It's okay, Dai-chan," Bika said reassuringly. "Kurama-kun won't hurt you. Want some bread? Look, Dai-chan. Bread."

The boy nodded vigorously and spilled some of the squash. Bika helped him pick them up and put a big piece of bread in his pocket.

"Now don't forget it's in your pocket!"

He nodded and rushed off as if in a hurry to deliver the vegetables so he could eat his bread.

"What's wrong with him?" asked Kurama.

"Dai-chan's arms and legs don't work properly," Bika explained. "And he can't think as well as you or I can."

"Will he get better?"

"No. He might get worse."

"Then why do you keep him?"

"Because we love him," she answered, surprised.

Kurama chewed his bread thoughtfully.

"I like this kind of coffee," he commented, looking down into his cup.

"It's called 'tea'," she laughed.

A few days later he came to visit again. Bika was glad to see him, as was the baby, but he could feel the mistrust of the rest of the villagers. It made him uncomfortable. Well, he didn't plan to stay long. It was just that with all the new sights and sounds and thoughts, last time he was here he had forgotten to ask about reading.

"Kurama! Are you alright?" Bika seemed to think anyone who stepped outside the village gates alone for any prolonged period was as good as dead.

"I'm fine." He sat down inside her hut. The warm fire crackled cheerfully. The baby crawled over eagerly and began slobbering on the knee of his pants.

"Look at all the burrs in your tail! And what's this in your hair?"

He turned to look over his shoulder.

"Blood." She reminded him of Mishian. Maybe all mothers were like this.

"...Oh... Well, I'm going to brush it for you, alright?" She sat down behind him and brushed out his long silvery hair. It shone in the firelight. Humans tended to have drab brown or black hair, he had noticed. Then she commenced pulling the burrs out of his tail.

"Ow."

"Sorry."

"Ow!"

"Sorry."

"OW!!"

"Kurama, sit down. I'm almost done." She freed the last burr and began brushing his tail, laughing a little.

"How funny it must be to have a tail."

"It's not funny at all," he complained.

"Mmm...well, you certainly look very handsome now." She looked him over approvingly and handed him a small, cracked mirror.

He gazed at himself. Yes, she had done a good job.

"Usually we say 'thank you' when someone does something nice for us or gives us a compliment," she told him kindly.

"Thank you," he replied obediently.

She smiled.

"You're welcome. Now all you need is some decent clothes."

"Bika...what was that thing you did with power? When you made your finger shine white?" It was frustrating not being able to express himself well.

"The Rei-gun? Here, take you're clothes off, Kurama, and I'll patch them up for you."

"Rei-gun...I thought humans didn't have power like that." He climbed out of his clothes. She tossed a blanket at him, but it was warm enough by the fire without it. She got out a needle and threaded it expertly.

"Usually we don't. When we do, it's called reiryoku or reiki. My power level is pretty low, but it's still unusual for a human. Kurama, people usually don't sit around without any clothes on."

He wrapped himself in the blanket with a sigh. Obviously he needed a lot more civilizing.

"That's why everyone lets you do what you want. Because your have reiryoku."

"Right," she laughed.

"Hmm..." They sat companionably for a time, Kurama looking around and thinking, and Bika stitching up the tears in his clothes. The baby fell asleep on Kurama's foot.

"Supposedly one of my ancestors was a powerful Youkai," commented Bika after a while. "Well, I shouldn't say 'ancestor.' He's probably still alive and well. It's kind of scary to think about. Anyway, that's where the power comes from. The legend is that one day his heir will be born, from our bloodline. Someone really strong, who's human and Youkai at the same time."

"What's his name? The 'ancestor'?"

She shrugged lightly.

"No one knows."

"Bika...do you know how to read?" He looked up at her.

"You're full of questions, aren't you? No, no, I don't know how. The older ones all knew, but when we came here to Makai there was no time for teaching or learning things like that. It's too bad. We're doing alright now. The kids could learn, if there was anyone to teach them. Why do you ask?"

"I want to learn how to read," Kurama said with determination.

"Well, I hope you learn. You'd be a good student." She bit off a thread. "Here you go. Aren't you cold just wearing these pants and this sleeveless thing?"

He shook his head and took the clothes from her, examining her work.

"You sewed up the place for my tail," he protested.

"Ah! I'm sorry! What was I thinking? Here, give it back."

Part Six: Kuronue

It only took two days for Kurama to learn all the card games Kuronue knew. The older boy attempted strategy, but was so obviously delighted or downcast by each hand that Kurama could beat him easily. He even let him win sometimes. It took a while longer to learn all Kuronue could teach him about being a thief. Kurama elaborated and improved on what his companion taught him. Their small scale forays were exciting and successful.

"One day," promised Kuronue, "we'll hit a big castle and clean out their treasure house. They'll never know what hit them. We could even take out Sensatsujo. That's the castle my parents got killed trying to rob. I've seen the outside. It's huge, with two big pillars with a dragon carved all the way up each one, and a huge yellow jewel in each of their mouths..." His eyes shone as he described the treasures he knew the castle held and was just starting in on those he imagined when Kurama interrupted him.

"...Kuronue, I had a book once..."

"Yeah, what about it?" He wasn't much interested in Kurama's quest for an education.

"Well, it had lots of words I couldn't read, but it also had pictures of castles and stuff. Maps of the inside of castles."

"Really?" Kuronue was actually listening now.

"Yeah, and one of them, the one I think it was mostly about, had those two big pillars, and the dragons carved on them. But maybe lots of castles look like that..."

"No, not that I've ever heard of. Kurama! Can you remember what the maps looked like?"

"...Some of them were like mazes. There were lots of X's drawn in different places and notes written off to the side, like they were saying what you had to do in that spot."

"Kurama!" Kuronue grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him excitedly. "You have to remember! Here!" he produced a white piece of cloth like a bedsheet, probably stolen off someone's clothes line, and spread it out on the ground. "Hang on," he urged, hurrying off to pick some berries that grew by the stream near their camp. Kurama smiled slightly. It had taken him awhile to get used to his friend's excitable nature. Kuronue mashed the berries enthusiastically in a cup and added a little water, stirring the mess with great concentration, then presented it to Kurama. "Now you just need a good twig to draw with...here, this one will work."

Kurama watched the boy continue to bustle around.

"Kuronue...I can't remember all that! Yeah, I looked at it hundreds of times, but I can't remember it perfectly! And if we went into that castle with a map that was a little off, we might as well have no map at all."

Kuronue waved these complaints away and pulled a pendant from around his neck. Kurama stared at it.

"What are you going to do with that?"

"Hypnotize you."

"Which means what?" asked Kurama suspiciously.

"Trust me. I'll put you to sleep and make you remember." Kuronue began swinging the pendant in front of Kurama's eyes. The red stone in the center caught his eyes and he couldn't seem to look away.

Kurama opened his eyes on Kuronue's command. He felt as if he had been asleep and yet not asleep. There on the cloth in front of him was a series of detailed maps. The X's and simple little symbols were all there. But the notes that had accompanied the maps were meaningless scribbles.

"What the hell is all this? It doesn't look like words," asked Kuronue, pointing at the scribbles.

"It's not words," sighed Kurama.

"We have to find someone who can teach you how to read," announced Kuronue, waving the cloth in the air to make sure it was dry.

"Really? You think if I learn to read and then you hypnotize me again, I could read the words in the book?"

"I don't know. But let's try, okay?" He folded the cloth and tucked it lovingly in his pack.

And from that time on, Kuronue was wholly in favor of Kurama's pursuit of literacy. But, what with one thing and another, two years passed and they didn't find a teacher. That is not to say Kurama didn't learn, however. When he wasn't practicing techniques with Kuronue he was involved in debates with Bika. Sometimes Dai-chan came to watch them talk. He was the only human in the village, besides Bika and her infant, who was glad to see him. Kurama was also growing taller and stronger. His hair reached down to his waist, like a waterfall. Bika brushed it for him and made him clothes that fit properly. The pants had a slot in the back for his tail that buttoned. He didn't use the buttons, just shoved his tail through and then fluffed it up again, but he was still pleased. He had never had buttons before, and thought them very elegant.

The two boys sat sheltered from the wind in a small but deep crater that had been blasted out thousands of years ago in some forgotten Youkai battle.

"...Suppose there was me, okay, and a human woman and a human baby."

"Right..." Kuronue arranged a big handful of twigs on the remains of their campfire and blew on them carefully.

"And there's just one loaf of bread. A little one. Like this," Kurama explained, showing the size with his hands.

"Like a bun?"

"Yeah, like a bun. And we're all hungry. I mean, REALLY hungry. We might die."

"Right." The wind howled overhead laced with ghostly screams and vague shapes that it was better not to look at.

"So, what should we do with the bread?"

"YOU should eat it, obviously," said Kuronue without hesitation. "If there wasn't any other food around, and there wasn't likely to be, the baby would die soon anyway, even if it ate the bread. If the woman was dead, the baby would die. Does it even have teeth?"

"Say it has teeth."

"Okay. Well, doesn't matter. The baby's out. The woman -- well, she's human, so she's probably not very strong. Even in a best case scenario she couldn't possibly live more than fifty more years or so. Why should you waste a thousand years of your life for fifty years of hers, or a few weeks of a baby's?"

"...Yeah, that's what I thought too. But... "

"Hey, you could eat the baby and give the woman the bread!"

"That's sick, Kuronue."

"Yeah..."

"Well, then, suppose it was you and me."

"Mmm....The best thing would be for one of us to let the other one eat it. But we'd probably just fight over it and waste the last of our strength."

"Couldn't we share it?" proposed Kurama. Bika had been adamant on this option.

"Then we might both die," Kuronue objected.

"We might both live."

"...I think that's for special cases, Kurama. Like when someone loves their mate or their kid or their friend. And if one of them died, the other one would be too sad to live anyway, or wouldn't be able to survive alone."

Kurama was silent awhile, contemplating this. The wind quieted a little.

"But anyway, we've got plenty of food tonight -- don't look so serious. Look what I swiped from the estate down by the waterfall!"

Kuronue displayed a sack, and with a flourish, produced a dead chicken.

"Nice! What did you do, hypnotize it?" Kurama took it and began plucking the feathers enthusiastically. Kuronue grinned.

"Hell no, I just grabbed it, broke its neck, and ran. ...So what did you do today?"

Kurama flushed.

"...I just talked to the humans."

"They have anything worth taking?"

"Kuronue, leave them alone, okay?"

"What are they, your little pets?"

"Just leave them alone!"

"Fine, whatever!"

They worked silently for awhile and then began throwing handfuls of feathers at each other, by which they communicated apologies and forgiveness with a minimum of embarrassment. Eventually the storm moved on.

Part Seven: Ruu

It was noon, and Kurama had just gotten up. He had taken to roaming with Kuronue at night and sleeping late in the morning. Kuronue was still sound asleep, sprawled on his stomach. Kurama left their camp and headed into the woods to check his traps. Nothing in the first one. As he noiselessly approached the second trap, he heard a commotion going on. Ears pricked forward, he peeked around a tree trunk. A small semi-intelligent looking demon had gotten itself caught. It was squealing and flailing its arms at a man who was tormenting it with a sword. The man was a Youko with pink hair... Kurama came out into the open for a better look, his heart pounding. Ruu! Damn him. His face, his ki, were unmistakable. The man Mishian had left with. There was no sign of Mishian's youki. Kurama was seized with a panicky desire to run away. He didn't want to know what had happened. He made himself call out anyway.

"Ruu!"

The man's head snapped around in Kurama's direction. Then he formed a cold smile.

"Kurama... Surprised I remembered your name? I was just travelling through and I happened to feel your ki so I thought I'd like to see your face...Does this belong to you?" He gestured with his sword at the bleeding, whimpering demon caught in the trap.

"No. It's my trap, but I didn't set it to catch demons."

"Too bad. I thought maybe it was something important to you. Something you wanted alive and unharmed." He shrugged and severed the head of the little creature. "Well, it helped to pass the time." He kicked its head away and it disappeared in the dried leaves that covered the forest floor. Then he wiped the toe of his boot thoroughly in the grass to get the blood off.

Kurama slowly but steadily approached the man.

"Where's Mishian?"

"Mishian... Now there's a name I haven't heard in a long while."

"Ruu..."

He laughed and shrugged casually.

"I got tired of her, that's all. She cried a lot."

"What did you do to her, to make her cry," inquired Kurama dangerously.

"Don't blame me! It's you she was snivelling over all the time. Stupid bitch. If she liked you so much, she should never have come with me. Too bad, hmm? Kurama-chan...poor little pup, abandoned by your mother...and it was all for nothing! No one got a damn thing out of it! Too bad you couldn't stop us that day. But you were too little, weren't you, Kurama-chan? You didn't even try. If you had stopped us, then right now that woman probably wouldn't be...well... Not that it wasn't fun for awhile, though."

Kurama felt that he was in a calm but precarious state of balance. The least little thing would cause him to snap and kill this man. He kind of hoped something would happen. Maybe he could provoke something.

"I'm bigger now," he pointed out.

"Yes, but now I have this nice sword."

Kurama launched a spin kick that knocked the sword into a distant pile of leaves. The man stumbled back a few paces, too, under the impact.

"You're not mad at me, are you, pup?" The man took a step towards Kurama. His voice was suddenly sugary and Kurama didn't trust him a bit. He was beginning to suspect Ruu was not entirely sane. The man's statements didn't connect properly.

"It's no one's fault. She got tired of you, I got tired of her. That's how life works. The weak cling to the strong, and the strong leave the weak." He took another step. "Odd though how she finally decided she liked you better. Really, it doesn't seem natural to be so attached to your own pup. Kind of sick, don't you think? No, I don't think I like how the two of you have treated me." He took another step, and now they were too close together.

"Do you remember I once said I didn't want a pup hanging around me that wasn't even mine? Hmm... well, you're right. You ARE bigger now..." He looked Kurama up and down. "And bigger pups have their uses." The Youko man grabbed Kurama's hair in back and tipped his head up.

Go on, do something, Kurama thought eagerly. Make me really mad. Ruu bent down and kissed Kurama, hard. Okay, that did it. Perfect. He was going to kill this man. He thought of a good way to do it, too. Ruu shoved him down on the ground and tore open the front of Kurama's shirt, then kissed him again. Even better. He suddenly jerked his head back, cursing and spitting blood. Kurama smiled, tasting the man's blood in his mouth. He felt totally in control of this situation. Until Ruu manifested a throbbing, red fireball and smashed it into him. Kurama only had time to turn his head to protect his face. The red glow filled his body with pain, but it wasn't bad, nor did it last long. He coughed and choked as smoke filled his eyes and lungs. Distantly, he thought he could smell his hair burning. Then the smoke dissipated and he saw he wasn't badly damaged. It had been a pretty weak attack, only effective because it was at point blank range. The man hadn't given it time to build up any force, opting on surprise instead.

"Did that hurt, Kurama-chan?" Ruu licked the places that were burned, slowly and thoroughly. "So sorry. I'm not used to anyone resisting." But Kurama wasn't resisting any more. Merely watching. Ruu turned his attention to the cord Kurama wore as a belt, without even looking to see if his victim was recovering. How ridiculous. Yes, Kurama had thought of an even better way to kill him now. On the ground all around him, leaves and twigs that were dry enough to burn were crackling and dancing with flames. That must have been what he smelled burning. That and his shirt. He wondered if male Youko tended to have a sadistic streak. Mishian hadn't had one. She had been neither cruel nor merciful, merely practical. Was she dead, then? He wouldn't trust anything Ruu had to say on the matter. Kurama propped himself up on his elbows and observed as Ruu worked on the knots. Finally he got them undone.

At that moment, the cord simply melted away in the man's fingers as Kurama slid fluidly into his fox shape. He saw the look of surprise and fury in Ruu's face for a split second before streaking away, flowing like silver mercury through the trees. Then he stopped and turned back to make sure the man would follow him. Yes, Ruu had shrugged into his own fox shape, his grey fur faintly tinged with pink. Kurama glided off again, winding towards a stagnant lake not too far away. At the edge of it, he assumed his person form again and leaped up into a tree. He tried to climb up into the higher branches, but his pants wouldn't stay up, although his tail kept them from falling down completely. He quickly retied the cord. The damn things were too big for him. He had stolen them off a clothes line under Kuronue's direction. Good thing he hadn't been wearing the outfit Bika had made for him. He didn't want that getting ripped up and burnt. He concealed himself in the highest branches, watching, hiding his ki. In a few minutes Ruu came sniffing along, still in his fox shape, trotting along with his ears down flat and his tail twitching angrily. Youki was crackling out from him and ruffling the grass beneath his paws. He came to the edge of the lake and stopped, casting around for the scent. He had lost it.

Ruu stood up into his person form and gazed skeptically into the lake. It was long and narrow; Kurama couldn't have jumped it, but he could have swum across it. The man looked around in all directions, even up, and failed to see any sign of Kurama. He looked again distastefully at the water. It smelled terrible. Insects buzzed around it and green slime covered much of its surface. But he couldn't waste time going around because of a little squeamishness. Ruu waded in. It was deeper than it looked. After a few steps, he was in over his waist. He almost lost his footing a couple of times. Nice. Kurama dropped lightly out of the tree onto the bank. The man spun around and his arms windmilled for a moment. Then he began splashing back towards the bank, forming another fire ball at the same time. Kurama dropped to all fours and shoved a hand into the pond scum. His cry was matched by a shout of horror by Ruu as he saw all the green stuff in the water converging on him. It engulfed his body and spilled down inside his tunic. It covered his eyes and ears, filled his nose, poured into his mouth. Ruu clawed at it, spitting and choking as he struggled to breathe. He lost his footing and disappeared under the water. Soon the thrashing died down, and slowly the pond scum floated innocently to the surface again. Kurama watched the water for a long time, to make sure the man wasn't coming back up. Then he went back to resume checking his traps.

He arrived back in camp as Kuronue was stretching and yawning. The boy stared up at Kurama.

"What happened to you?"

"I killed someone," replied Kurama, tossing a couple squirrels on the ground.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah."

"Did he have anything good?"

"No. Oh-- a sword. But I forgot it."

"Idiot. You're a terrible thief, Kurama."

"Mm. I don't think it was a very good sword, though. I'll go back and get it." He turned away.

"Kurama-- are you sure you're okay? You sound funny."

"Leave me alone," suggested Kurama in a cold voice, and went back into the woods. Kuronue stared after him, feeling suddenly cold himself.

Part Eight: Yukaru

Eventually they moved on. They travelled generally southeast, in the direction Kuronue said lay the castle of Sensatsujo, but they took their time getting there. They didn't intend to attack it until they were older and stronger and Kurama had learned to read anyhow. They spent a month here, a summer there, taking what they wanted and killing anyone who opposed them. There was no need to feel guilty. No one was innocent. Their attackers were usually monsters anyway, degraded soulless creatures with the wrong kind of light in their eyes. They fought only with strong opponents, and robbed only well fortified establishments. Kuronue had sold Kurama on the idea of honor. The days of stealing washing off a clothesline were over. Though their reputations did not yet precede them, rumors swirled behind them and only increased in their absence. Even moderately strong Youkai whispered about the beautiful Youko with hair the color of moonlight and death in his eyes. If he didn't kill you in the first few minutes, people said, you might be alright. If you were intelligent, it was your ideas and opinions he demanded, while the one dressed in black collected your jewelry and your coins.

By the time they reached the valley of Sensatsu, Kurama was fifteen and Kuronue seventeen. Kurama had grown taller recently, and could look Kuronue in the eyes for the first time, but neither of them had reached their full height yet. And Kurama at least had not even begun to approach the limits of his power. They stood at the edge of a cliff, gazing down at the enormous castle of Sensatsujo. There was a whole town within its walls. Guards watched from the battlements and stood at the gate, barely visible at this distance. The dragons were clearly visible, though, snaking up the awesome length of the columns flanking the main gate. These dragons had been familiar to Kurama since he was a small child. Kuronue, too, was watching the castle darkly, reliving his own nightmare memories.

They eventually turned away and found a snug, hidden spot to make camp. Then they separated to scout the area. After several days they met again.

"Down that way," said Kuronue, "There's a human living in a tower all by himself. They say he just reads and studies all the time. Maybe he writes books too, I don't know. Anyway, you should go see him. Watch out though. He could be dangerous."

"How could a human be dangerous?" Kurama wanted to know.

"With you, anyone who has ideas is dangerous."

"Hm. Well, I saw an estate, at the bottom of the cliff, just west of here. Nothing like the castle, of course, but well provisioned."

"Good practice, huh?"

"We won't starve."

Kurama went to talk to the human first thing the next morning. Kuronue wasn't interested. Since it was an unknown area, they had taken turns keeping watch through the night, and he was tired. He stretched out in the grass and promptly fell asleep. Kurama wondered what was the point staying up to keep watch, only to lie snoring and vulnerable in broad daylight, but it was admittedly hard to fear danger when the sun was shining. But then, danger could hide anywhere. Even, as Kuronue had warned, in a human. Kurama prodded at Kuronue with his toe to make sure he was serious, and then set off thoughtfully. After an hour's walk, he reached the tower. It looked about five stories high and large enough in diameter to have a moderate sized room on each floor, tapering a little towards the top. There was a high stone wall all around it, but at some distance, and inside this barrier, several ramshackle outbuildings and a drooping garden. Kurama vaulted the wall, walked up to the door, and knocked.

A human opened the door a crack. The door was obviously chained on the inside, for all the good that would do.

"My name is Kurama," he introduced himself.

The man blinked at him.

"I want to learn how to read."

The man gazed at him some more. Then he slowly unchained the door and came outside. He looked about twenty-five or thirty, with brown wavy hair and pale skin. He had a thoughtful and reasonably attractive face and he was a couple inches taller than Kurama, which made him tall, but not unusually so. His clothes were simple but clean and well made, not like the rough, patched working outfits worn by the other humans Kurama had seen. He had an air of quiet seriousness and looked like he did not belong outdoors under this red sky.

"You're..."

"Kurama," he repeated.

"I mean, you're Youkai." The man looked pointedly and uncomfortably at Kurama's ears and then his tail. Then he looked at Kurama's face for a long time.

"Sorry about that. I don't have any money, either." Kuronue had recently sunk all their profits into new equipment.

"And you expect me to teach you how to read?!" He sounded apprehensive, yet intrigued.

"I want you to teach me how to read."

"...Are you threatening me?"

"I'm just standing here."

The human seemed to be debating with himself.

"If you don't want to, say so."

"I didn't say that... If I agree to teach you, will you promise to do everything I ask of you?" he proposed tentatively.

Kurama laughed.

"I don't think you could get anyone to make a promise like that."

"You expect me to instruct you for nothing then?"

"Tell me what you want me to do."

"...I could use an assistant. To carry the books up and down the stairs for me, bring me dinner, wash my clothes, that sort of thing. I don't know if you would be suitable...That is, perhaps you wouldn't care to do that kind of work." He looked at Kurama hesitantly, as if afraid of angering him. Kurama didn't like to concede anything, if he could help it, to someone he didn't know. He gave the human a look that asked, are you out of your mind? The man flinched and visibly regretted having made his 'assistant' suggestion.

"Why don't you teach me," countered Kurama, "and I'll do what you say if I feel like it."

"Ah..."

"And if I don't like it, I'll leave, and if you don't like it, you can throw me out."

The man rubbed his chin. He regarded Kurama the way an animal in a net looks at its captor -- intensely, and not just in fear, but in the knowledge that this is the most significant thing that has ever happened to it. Kurama knew there was no need to make any concessions.

"I...ah...I've purchased a security system. It's supposed to deter Youkai from entering my tower. I'll have to have it adjusted so you can come in." He gestured at the door. Kurama pushed the door open, regarded the doorway a moment, and tried to walk through. It was blocked with a simple youki shield. He felt resistance, a suffocating closeness, and then he was through the barrier.

"I hope you didn't pay a lot for it," he commented.

"Kuronue, are you going to sleep all day?"

"I thought you were leaving," he grumbled, rubbing his eyes and extending his wings.

"I'm already back."

"And?" asked Kuronue, sounding a bit more awake.

"His name is Yukaru. He offered to teach me as long as I did everything he said." Kurama sat down on the grass and rummaged around in a bag for a snack.

"You didn't agree to that did you? He's probably some kind of pervert."

"You know, he could like me without being a pervert."

"Hn. I think it's pretty suspicious that he'd agree to teach you for free."

"He's probably just lonely."

"Oh, I wonder why? Could it have something to do with the fact that he locks himself up alone in a tower and does nothing but read books?"

"What are you so grumpy for?"

"Nothing. I've just gotten used to you being around all the time. And now you won't be any more."

"You're supposed to be checking out that castle. Why don't you try to get some kind of job there? Then you won't miss me."

"I didn't say I'd MISS you, exactly." Kuronue socked him.

Warm sun poured in the window of the library, on the top floor of the tower. Yukaru stood behind Kurama with his hands gently resting on his student's shoulders.

"Have you finished that page yet?" he asked as Kurama looked up thoughtfully.

"...Almost..."

"I'll bring you something cool to drink, alright?"

"Mm."

Yukaru hurried off and came back with a glass of juice and some little cakes on a tray. Kurama ate one without taking his eyes off the page. When he finished the page he looked up.

"I don't understand this part here." He picked up the glass and drank from it.

"Where?" Yukaru gazed distractedly at Kurama's fingers on the glass. "...Here? Oh, this character refers to blood that's been spilled so recently that it hasn't cooled yet. It's a Makai original character and not very common. Don't be too concerned about it."

"Hm, yeah, I guess the rest of the sentence makes sense now." He turned the page.

"I can't believe how quickly you're learning this material, Kurama. You're really bright." The human stroked his student's long, shiny silver hair. It flowed like water through his fingers and pooled in the palm of his hand. Kurama allowed this for a few minutes and then looked up.

"Yukaru..."

"Ah... Forgive me." He reluctantly pulled his hands away.

"These cakes are good."

"Thank you!" Yukaru brightened.

"Can I take some back to Kuronue?"

"Why don't you stay here tonight," proposed Yukaru innocently. "Then in the morning you can take all the cakes you want."

"Never mind, I don't need the cakes after all." Kurama began reading again.

The man hung his head in frustration and disappointment.

"Kurama, I do everything I can for you. To make you happy."

"...I know." He marked his place on the page with a finger and looked up. "Yukaru, if you ever want me to leave... If I ever make you too unhappy..."

"Want you to leave?! Kurama....."

Damn, the man was getting into one of his poetic moods.

"...my beautiful inhuman spirit...my own perfect demon..."

"Demon?" protested Kurama with a laugh.

"That's right. They say demons steal the souls of humans and drive them insane and drag them down to hell."

Kurama wondered if this would be a bad moment to ask for another glass of juice. He decided against asking. Yukaru walked over to the small open window and looked down at his little clearing and the vast wilderness beyond.

"When I'm near you I can't even breathe."

Kurama sighed and stood up. At this rate he would never get to the end of the chapter. He approached Yukaru, who spun around eagerly to face him. This soft-spoken man was physically even weaker than most humans Kurama had met. I will never love a human, he promised himself. He wouldn't allow himself to become deeply attached to something so transient. He couldn't stand the thought of being left alone again. Kurama could almost feel Yukaru's brief life slipping away, second by second. Humans couldn't afford to be patient, they had to blunder ahead, grasping frantically at their desires. It couldn't be helped. He took one step closer to his teacher, giving tacit permission. Whereas Kurama smelled of sunshine and green things, Yukaru smelled faintly of old books and ink. Kurama had come to love these smells even if he couldn't bring himself to love this man who was now gazing at him, tears trickling down his cheeks.

"Please, Kurama," he implored humbly. "Let me touch you... Just a little bit..."

Kurama closed his eyes.

"...Just a little bit..." he repeated softly, feeling himself pulled into a tight embrace. A breeze swept in through the window and blew the pages of the book all the way back to the beginning.

Part Nine: Kuronue

"I got a job at the castle," announced Kuronue, dealing the cards.

"Really? Doing what?"

Kuronue looked embarrassed.

"Well, the actual job doesn't matter, right? It's just a way to get in." He tossed down Night with Six Stars and Night with Two. He had long since given up playing games of pure strategy with Kurama.

"...Yeah..."

"Are you paying attention?"

"...Kuronue, do you feel bad about using those people?" He put down Eclipsed Sun.

"Huh? The people at the castle you mean?" Kuronue dealt a few more cards and cursed to himself. He threw down Grey Goddess, Gold Goddess, and Night with Four.

"Right. They take you in, give you a job, and you're really scheming to rob them. Don't you feel a little bit...guilty?" Kurama played White Goddess and Silver Goddess.

"What's wrong with you? You never complained before. Come on, Kurama, you know the bastards who rule that castle massacred half the Youkai and almost all the humans around here, not to mention all their stuff is stolen from someone else. Not to mention they killed my parents."

"You're right. Sorry, I just..."

Kuronue looked at him suspiciously.

"Is something going on with you and what's his name?" He passed out the new cards.

"Yukaru."

"Well? Is it?"

Kurama examined his cards and didn't reply.

"Damn it, I knew he was a pervert!"

"He is not a pervert. He's a decent, kind, intelligent man. And he's suffering because of me."

"...Do you 'like' him?"

"No... But I don't mind so much. It's just that it takes up so much time when I could be learning things, and it's making his life hell."

"Is it worth it?"

"Of course it's worth it or I wouldn't be doing it."

"Have you ever heard of the term 'prostitution'?"

Kurama flushed.

"This is different."

"Because...?"

"Because he's in love with me. And I'm in love with his books."

"Oh, that makes it okay then," said Kuronue sarcastically. "Well, it's your business, I guess." He pulled out three cards, and threw them on the pile: Twilight, First Star, and Third Star.

Kurama smiled.

"No. You're my friend. You're supposed to worry about me."

And then he played Dawn.

Kurama and Kuronue spent the whole night ranging through the woods and across the fields. Moonlight reflected off the high, scattered clouds, making the night almost magically bright. Kurama didn't have quite the speed or endurance that the older boy had, so from time to time he flowed into his fox form. Then he could run in circles around his friend, who laughed and tried to catch him. They weren't out to do anything in particular. They were just children, playing. They were a little old for it, maybe, but it was an experience Kurama had missed out on until he met Kuronue. With Mishian, and then by himself, life had been too serious and dangerous for making noise and wasting energy. Also, though perhaps he didn't realize it, he turned to these children's games as a comforting contrast to the adult games that Yukaru wanted to play with him. They made as much noise as they liked. If anything came after them, they would prevail against it, or at least get away safely. They felt the invincibility of Makai teenagers who believe that having survived childhood they are home free. They flushed rabbits out and chased them, but didn't bother to catch them. They dared each other to touch the mysterious glowing blobs that scooted through the grass, and got their hands stung. Their shoes and pant legs were soaked with dew and their faces streaked with dirt. They fought lightheartedly over nothing. They were innocent of all experience and all crimes.

"Ow! Let go of my ears!" complained Kuronue, lying on his back and spitting grass out of his mouth.

"Let go of my tail, dammit!" laughed Kurama.

"Give me back my hat and I'll let go of your ratty little tail."

Their eyes locked, but neither one could stare the other down. They both blinked at the same moment. Then Kuronue shoved his knee into Kurama's stomach. Kurama doubled over and the hat slid off his head onto Kuronue's face. Kurama switched to his fox form, letting go of Kuronue's ears as his hands became paws. But Kuronue still had a grip on his tail -- or on one of them at least. Kurama opened his mouth and placed his sharp little fox teeth delicately but menacingly against Kuronue's throat.

"You are so not scary," commented Kuronue from under his hat, letting go of Kurama's tail and petting his fur.

Part Ten: Nekoshi

Weeks passed like days and months like weeks. Kurama had mastered the basics of reading and was now hungry for the content of Yukaru's books. His horizons expanded dizzyingly. Kuronue's world was expanding in a different way. One evening they started dinner cooking and walked down to the stream to wash up. Conversation turned to the problem of the castle.

"Have you actually done any reconnaissance at all?" inquired Kurama taking off his shoes and wading in the cool water.

"Mm...Yeah, but... there's this girl..." His voice trailed off.

"This what? I didn't quite catch that," teased Kurama.

"This GIRL," repeated Kuronue. "Pay attention and don't make me repeat myself."

"And what about this girl?"

"...What about her?" he echoed vaguely. "Um...her name is Nekoshi and she does laundry."

"You like her?"

Kuronue blushed and looked down. He began vigorously splashing water on his face.

"Ha, ha, even your ears are red!"

"Shut up."

"My ears never turn red."

"You're a damn fox."

"Does she like you?"

"...How should I know? I mean, she's nice to everyone, pretty much. Kurama, I need your advice."

"My advice? I don't know anything about girls."

"No but... you and Yukaru..."

"Yukaru isn't a girl."

"It's the same thing!"

"Kuronue. I can see I'm going to have to start with the basics here. Lesson number one: girls and guys are not the same thing."

"Ha ha." Kuronue glared at him. "A kiss is the same, whether it's a girl or a guy."

"Mm...not really. Girls have all those extra teeth."

Kuronue blinked at him.

"A joke," explained Kurama.

"I'm glad to see you're so concerned about helping me, Kurama."

"Okay, okay. Come here. Come closer." He slid his arms around Kuronue's neck. The boy shoved him away in alarm.

"The hell are you doing? Just tell me what to do. Just explain it, okay?"

"Mmm...I think that would be more embarrassing..."

"After all I've done for you," said Kuronue mournfully.

"Why don't you just hypnotize her?" smiled Kurama.

"Only in my fantasies..."

Kurama sniffed the air.

"Hey, isn't something burning?"

"Shit!" They grabbed their shoes and ran back to the campfire to salvage their dinner.

Part Eleven: Yukaru

"...Of course, it would be better politically as well as economically to round up all the humans around here and rip their arms off."

"Mmhm," Yukaru agreed.

There was a bowl of fruit on the table. Kurama picked a grape and bounced it off the man's forehead. Yukaru jumped.

"You haven't heard a damn thing I've said for the past ten minutes."

"Ah...I'm sorry. It's just...the way your mouth moves when you speak..."

Kurama pulled an apple out of the bowl and made as if to throw that at Yukaru as well.

"I apologize! I'm paying attention now. Really."

"...Okay, I won't talk anymore. You talk. Tell me some more about Ningenkai."

"...Right. Ah, turn to the map in the back of that book there. Yes. We discussed this map briefly last week. First, how many of the countries can you name?" Yukaru stood up and began lighting the candles. He'd have to pull himself together if he wanted to keep his student here. He smiled to himself. When Kurama tried to leave tonight he would bring out that new book that had actually come from Ningenkai, with color illustrations and everything. Yes, he had a secret weapon tonight. Kurama finished studying the map and looked up. The candlelight reflecting in his golden eyes was the most beautiful thing Yukaru had ever seen. Mostly he loved to watch Kurama talk, and listen to the sound of his voice. The next best thing was to watch him eat and drink, hence the bowl of fruit on the table. But he was happy just watching Kurama read, or think. If this torment could be called happiness. Sometimes it was only after his Youkai student had left that Yukaru became aware of what Kurama had actually been saying, and the boy's intellect never failed to surprise and impress him. He always promised himself he would focus better next time. Please let there be a next time, he prayed. He sat down and looked at the map, watching Kurama's hand move over the page as he pointed and pronounced the names that he had only heard once before.

"...China...Egypt...France...the Aztec Empire..."

I will not kiss him, thought Yukaru firmly to himself even as he was leaning over the table and just lightly touching his cheek, just slightly brushing his hand over his hair, just barely sliding his tongue over his mouth. Flushing with shame at his weakness, he mumbled an apology and resumed his seat on the other side of the table. Kurama hadn't taken his finger off the page.

"...England...Spain...Russia...Japan..."

Part Twelve: Kuronue

Late that night, Kurama walked back to camp, his head full of the new things he'd learned. It was pitch black, but he had traveled that way so often he didn't need to see. He was alert and cautious, of course, as always, but nothing untoward happened. Kuronue was waiting for him by their campfire, sulking a little and playing some card game by himself, which he seemed to be losing.

"I thought maybe you weren't coming back tonight."

"Here I am." Kurama knelt and built up the fire.

"Hn. I don't care what you do, as long as you come back eventually."

"I thought YOU were planning on staying at the castle tonight."

"Mm, well, that didn't quite work out..."

"Too bad. Tonight would have been perfect for surveillance, since there's no moon. You could have checked out if those corridors really led to the secret stairway."

"Kurama, do you grasp the fact that Nekoshi and I would have had better things to do than surveillance?" He was never sure if his friend was joking or not.

"I'm sorry she threw you out," consoled Kurama.

"Her grandmother was sick, and she had to sit up with her," explained Kuronue quickly.

"I see."

"She's nice, like that."

"Right."

Kuronue stirred up the fire a bit more violently than usual, and Kurama decided to change the subject.

"My reading's coming along pretty well. Do you want to try hypnotizing me again?"

Kuronue's eyes lit up.

"You can read already? I should learn too, if it's so easy."

"Yukaru says I'm bright."

"Yeah, I bet he says a lot of things to you."

"How about if we try tomorrow, when we have daylight?" suggested Kurama.

No, no, let's do it now!" Kuronue was dragging big branches onto the fire eagerly. Kurama shrugged and got out the brush and ink set that Yukaru had given him. He dripped some water into the ink reservoir, and then began rubbing the ink stick up and down through the water. Kuronue pulled out the bedsheet, spreading it out on the ground. He lifted it up again and brushed some small rocks and twigs away to make sure it would lie flat and smooth. Then he pulled the pendant off his neck and looked up to see if Kurama's preparations were complete.

"Ready?"

"Ready."

Kuronue sat close to Kurama and set the pendant in motion.

"Watch the pendant. Relax and keep your eyes on it. You can't look away. You can't look a- Kurama, what the hell are you doing?!"

Kurama was on his feet suddenly.

"Ah, sorry. I just thought of something..."

"Does it have anything to do with Sensatsujo or the map or hypnotizing you?" asked Kuronue skeptically.

"No, I just figured out the answer to a question Yukaru asked me today."

"Well, you can ask him tomorrow if it was the right answer. Now sit down."

"He didn't know the answer."

"Sit down!"

"Sorry." Kurama resumed his place and picked up the brush, turning it this way and that in the ink. He put it carefully down and looked up. Kuronue gave a long-suffering sigh and began again.

"Look at the pendant. You can't look away from it. Watch it swing..."

As Kuronue's soft, insistent voice and his familiar youki washed over him again and again, Kurama forced himself to surrender. He felt very relaxed. The red stone in the center of the pendant arced back and forth, back and forth.

"Remember the book. Look at the pages. The pages with the maps of the castle. Remember the maps. You can see them."

"...Yes, I see them..." Kurama's eyes were staring now, not at the pendant, but down at the ground. He reached out a hand tentatively to where the book seemed to be.

"Read the writing. ...Can you read it?"

"I...some...of it..."

"Copy it down. Write it on the sheet. Write it..."

Kurama picked up the brush and, after a moment, began to write rapidly onto the sheet. Kuronue peered over his shoulder, encouraging him in soft, soothing tones. The writing continued for a long time. Finally Kurama stopped, holding the brush poised in the air as if he had forgotten it. Kuronue gently took it away before it could drip and obscure anything.

"Very good. When I count to three, you'll wake up. When I count to three, okay? One... Two... Three!"

Kurama blinked.

"It's so dark."

"Of course it's dark. It's night time."

"...I was reading a book..." He rubbed his hands over his face and suddenly seemed himself again.

"Did it work?"

"You tell me," said Kuronue, gesturing at the sheet. Kurama bent down to study it. The flames of the campfire leaped and shifted, making reading difficult.

"Ah... it sort of worked. The ink bled here and here. See? These parts are illegible. And this section...these characters don't make any sense. But look here, this part shows how to undo a power binding on the door hinges. And this part tells the combination to make the trap door open again. Damn, here's another meaningless section. Maybe it's in code. Ah! This explains why you couldn't find the footholds in the outer wall. Look!"

"It doesn't help if I look, Kurama," laughed Kuronue, but he looked anyway. He was full of excitement. This raid was looking more promising. He would avenge his parents and impress Nekoshi and become rich. Together, he and Kurama would become famous.

"Of course, all this is assuming that the book is telling the truth," warned Kurama.

"I bet it is."

"Would you bet your life?"

"Yeah, wouldn't you?"

"...Let's wait and see if I can figure out the codes," he replied cautiously.

Part Thirteen: A Varied Cast

During the next month, Kurama managed to make sense of all but one of the coded passages. He was frowning at the bed sheet now, and jotting down possibilities on a piece of paper. Kuronue was attempting to repair a hole in the bottom of his knapsack.

"You watch out. He'll probably try to get you drunk next," warned Kuronue, licking a thread and squinting at it impatiently.

"He already tried that." Kurama spoke without looking up from his paper.

Kuronue nodded sadly and sympathetically.

"It didn't work though. I wouldn't drink anything and he ended up crying on the floor. Eventually he passed out cold and I was able to get through nine chapters without any interruptions."

"Then his next step will probably be to drug you," Kuronue predicted. "You'll wake up in chains in the basement, dressed only in lady's underwear."

"That's, ah, quite imaginative, but I don't think he's strong enough to carry me down a flight of stairs."

"Nekoshi's strong..."

"Mm, I was wondering when the conversation would get around to her. What does she look like anyway?" Kurama blinked at the code for a few seconds, wide eyed, as a thought struck him, and then began furiously scribbling.

"She has kind of brown skin and yellow hair and big brown eyes, and a little horn here," he leaned forward and thwacked Kurama between the ears with his index finger. "She's shorter than me and she has this fluffy tail..."

"Like mine?" Kurama asked brightly.

"Better than yours. Shorter and fluffier. And her ears are like mine, but droopier." He held his ears down enthusiastically for Kurama's benefit. Kurama glanced up at them briefly, then returned to his figuring.

"Aa, Nekoshi!" Kuronue flung himself face down on the ground, arms outstretched. Kurama gazed at him.

"Nekoshi! Nekoshiiiiii..." he rolled over several times and smacked his head on a rock. "Owwwww.....damn..."

"If you're done with your dramatics," suggested Kurama, "I'll show you this new code I just figured out. The one on the map, here, beside the second entrance to the main treasure chamber."

Kuronue sat up abruptly, rubbing his head.

"That's the last one, isn't it?"

"Yeah. The trick is," said Kurama, consulting his paper, "to lower your youki to an exact level. Then the lock opens. Well, here it says raise it, but..."

"Huh? How does that work if there are two of us?

"I don't know. We'll have to be prepared to try it a couple of different ways."

"It would be 'raise' anyway," argued Kuronue, "because we'd be concealing our ki in the first place."

"Technically, concealing and lowering isn't the same thing. Lowering is trickier."

"If you say so."

Kuronue flung himself back on the ground.

"Nekoshi!" He stared up at the red sky in pleasant anticipation.

"When we raid the castle, assuming we're alive afterwards, we can't stick around here," said Kurama thoughtfully one day.

"Of course not."

"So, what will you do? You and Nekoshi?" he asked carefully.

"Huh? You think I'd go off with her and leave you?"

"It's okay if you want to."

"I wouldn't do that. We're partners!"

"Are you going to invite her along then? I wouldn't mind."

"...I'd like to, but...Kurama, she's only fifteen."

"I'm only fifteen." Or was it sixteen by now? He knew only that he had been born sometime in the fall.

"You're different. She has a family and friends at Sensatsujo. And she hasn't done anything her whole life except...well, laundry."

"So she's ready to do something else."

"You want her to come with us?" demanded Kuronue.

"Well, you act like you really care about her, but now you're just planning to leave her?" Kurama was disturbed by this.

"I...I'll explain to her beforehand. It would be dangerous for her and all of us. She's not used to living like this."

"She might think you were just using her all along, so no one would wonder why you were hanging around all the time even when you were off work."

"That's not true! Kurama, you know that's not true!"

"I'm just saying she might think that. And how happy do you think she'll be to find she's not what's most important to you? She might rethink her own priorities. She might be in a position to hurt us."

"What's that supposed to mean? Are you accusing her of something?"

"No, I don't even know her, okay? But if it was me, I might get mad..."

"Well you're making me mad, so just shut up about it, okay?"

"Fine."

"Fine."

The night of the raid had been decided. It was less than two weeks away. Kuronue and Yukaru were impossible to live with. Kuronue had decided to tell Nekoshi about the raid the day before they carried it out. If they were successful, they'd be rich. He could have a safe place made for her. He had always been excitable. Now he couldn't sit down for more than a few minutes at a time, and he couldn't stop talking about the girl and the raid.

"I hope you aren't acting like this at the castle every day," commented Kurama, looking up from a book he'd borrowed from his teacher. It was a lot easier to read when he wasn't being watched, and there was a lot of material he wanted to get through in case he didn't have the chance again. But now that Kuronue had returned, he couldn't concentrate.

"Of course not. Give me some credit. We're professionals now."

"We will be, if we pull off this raid without getting killed," reminded Kurama.

Kuronue pulled out the bedsheet with its maps drawn in fading blue ink and fresher black ink, and threw himself down on the ground to study it yet again.

Yukaru of course was in a worse state. Kurama had hinted that soon he would be leaving, for a long time, maybe for good. The human had looked stricken.

"I suppose demons can only come out into the light for a little while," whispered Yukaru. "And now you're going to disappear back into hell and take my soul with you. Why did you come here? I must have done something either very good or very wicked in a former life to deserve meeting you...spending time with you...teaching you...kissing you-"

Kurama put his hand gently over Yukaru's mouth to stop him.

"I am not a demon and the world outside your doors is not hell and I don't want your soul."

"I know," said Yukaru in despair.

"I'm very grateful for everything you've taught me. I was so ignorant. I still am..."

"There's so much more I could teach you, Kurama! I have a little money left. I can order some more books. Whatever you want!"

"I can't stay here with you."

"I know...But if there's anything you want of me, anything of me that you value, take it! Take everything you want."

I already have, thought Kurama. His mind flashed back to himself as a six year old child, holding out a knife to Mishian.

And then they finally did it. They raided Sensatsujo. The beginning went perfectly according to plan. The end, the getaway, was successful. It was the middle that was a near disaster.

Part Fourteen: Kuronue

"What did you think you were doing back there? We were supposed to run, remember, not challenge half the guard. You're lucky to be alive!"

"Fuck life."

"Okay, okay, come on, just a little farther."

"...She betrayed us, Kurama! She betrayed me! Nekoshi--"

"...I know. Come on. If you can't run any faster I'm going to drop these bags and carry you," threatened Kurama.

"Sorry..." Kuronue stumbled along a little faster. He was pretty badly cut up, but it was the shock of seeing Nekoshi watching a little sadly from the battlements as armed men poured out of the keep, trying to cut off their retreat, that had damaged him the most.

Several hours later, Kurama bandaged up Kuronue by the light of a small campfire. He had ringed the camp with plants that would drink up the youki they gave off, so no one would be likely to find them even when they were asleep.

"I think this ear needs some stitches. It's not going to regenerate like this."

"I don't care."

"If you don't care then I'm going to do it. Okay?"

There were plants that had anesthetic properties, but Kurama didn't have any at the moment. Kuronue didn't even seem to notice. He slumped lethargically against a tree, his wings splayed out on either side of him, staring over the fire into the darkness as Kurama tended his wounds. When Kurama finished and took his hands off him, Kuronue became agitated. He stood up and started kicking things around.

"Hey, don't kick the bags. Do you know how much that stuff is worth?"

"The hell with it."

"Well, just kick your share around then, okay?"

"...Sorry."

Kurama was poking through his little pouches of leaves. He selected some and set them to boil in a pan of water over the fire. Then he strained the liquid into a cup and handed it to Kuronue.

"I suppose this is supposed to calm me down," Kuronue growled, glaring into the cup. Kurama shrugged.

"I hate her!" he shouted, throwing the cup down. It smashed on the rocks that ringed their camp fire.

"I know."

"No! I don't hate her..."

"I know."

Kuronue couldn't stop shaking. He hugged himself and sobbed.

"Sit down." Kurama pushed him gently down and sat next to him with his arms around him. He slapped Kuronue lightly on the chest a few times.

"Wha- What are you -- doing?" he gasped out between sobs.

"Hm? I'm trying to make you feel better, what do you think I'm doing?"

"...Must -- be a Youko th- thing, huh?"

"Must be." Kurama kept smacking his chest. Finally Kuronue calmed down a little.

"Kurama...What should I do??" he wailed.

"Forgive her."

"Forgive her?! I don't blame her for anything! It wasn't her fault she...didn't..."

"Blame her and then forgive her."

Kuronue stared at him.

"Well how the hell should I know? Why are you asking me?!"

"Idiot. Who else could I ask?"

"Do you have to wipe your nose on my tail?" Kurama teased gently.

"I'm sorry," gulped Kuronue.

"It's okay. Go ahead. It'll wash."

Kuronue buried his face in the soft silvery fur and cried some more. Kurama waited until he stopped and then spoke to him, tightening a bandage that had come loose.

"I know how you feel."

"I bet not."

"Kuronue, listen." And he told him about Mishian and that morning that he remembered as bright and dark at the same time when he stood in the wet grass, all alone, for the first time and forever. Kuronue listened, his dark eyes wide, firelight playing on his tear-stained face.

"...You're not alone, Kurama," he promised.

"No. Neither are you so what are you crying about?" he smiled.

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. You know, she actually told me I was grown up?"

"She was probably just trying to give you confidence."

"No, I think she actually believed it."

They sat still for a long while.

"Do you suppose we're grown up now?" asked Kurama softly.

Kuronue looked up, his face streaked with tears.

"Do I look grown up?" he asked, incredulously.

Kurama brushed a wet strand of hair off Kuronue's face.

"If we were grown up, I guess we'd be invincible and irresistible and we'd know the meaning of life" he laughed.

"I know it. It's desertion and betrayal," intoned Kuronue dully.

"It is not."

"It is too."

"You're just upset. ...Kuronue, do you ever wish you were a human?"

"...Can we stick to the subject here?"

"I am. I mean, think about it. Humans care about each other. They have to cooperate. They take care of their kids long after they really have to. The kids grow up and stay in the same group, often as not. They usually mate for life. They protect the old and the weak and the sick."

"They're powerless and don't live long."

"We were talking about desertion and betrayal."

"Oh yeah... Kurama, is this like your thing with books? Trying to avoid dealing with life? You know, if I was a human I could die young and I wouldn't have to deal with reality very long, that kind of thing?"

"Escapism?"

"Good word, o scholar."

"Believe it or not you can actually learn things from books, Kuronue. And from humans."

"Let's get out of here."

"Where do you want to go?"

"Anywhere. Away from everything here."

"Okay. In a few days, when you're up to it."

"A lot has happened since we've been here," Kuronue observed, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

"Yeah."

"I wonder if he feels as miserable as I do..."

"Who?"

"Yukaru."

Kurama looked uncomfortably at Kuronue.

"He's probably crying himself to sleep," continued Kuronue. "Or making plans to kill himself--"

"Stop it."

"Sorry."

"I thought you didn't like him."

"Yeah, that was before I was so grown up."

"...You're right, though." Kurama stared at the ground. "...I think, before we leave, I'll go see him again..."

"That'll just make him feel worse. Showing up to tell him one more time that you're never coming back."

"Mm. But... He gave me everything I wanted from him. And I never gave him what he wanted."

"Really?" Kuronue looked up, surprised.

"Not that it's any of your business," Kurama smiled.

"Hn. But Kurama, what he really wanted was for you to fall desperately in love with him and stay with him for the rest of his life in that damn tower."

"Yeah right, and you didn't want to sleep with Nekoshi."

"I DID sleep with Nekoshi."

"Hmmm... Was my advice useful?" Kurama patted him soothingly on the chest again.

"What advice? Are you referring to 'Girls have more teeth'?"

"Some of them do."

"Another Youko thing, hm?"

"...How long do you think he'll live?"

"Assuming he doesn't hang himself?"

"Kuronue!"

"I don't know. Thirty, forty years? You're absolutely not staying with him Kurama? Playing human and pretending you love him and leaving me all alone? Maybe I'll be the one to hang myself!"

"Don't worry. I may read books all the time, but I know what's real and what's not. And I know what I am."

"And that is...?"

"I'm your friend, Kuronue. And I will never betray you or desert you."

Kurama kept his arms around Kuronue and didn't let go, even to put more wood on the fire, and so the fire sank down and slowly died out. They huddled together in the darkness until they finally fell asleep, exhausted. They didn't even notice when dawn broke and sunlight flooded down on them, the crimson sky for once empty of storms and clouds. The future couldn't be any worse than the past and they had survived that. The past would slowly recede. They were young. They were invincible and irresistible. The enemies who would kill them hadn't even been born yet. They had succeeded spectacularly in their first serious raid, and all of Makai was spread out around them, vast and rich, waiting for them to wake up.

__________________________________________

Notes on Songs of Innocence and Experience

The reasons I wrote this are

1. I wondered if Kurama's childhood lack of attachment to his human parents was a Youkai thing or a Youko thing or a personal character thing or had to do with how his Youko mother had raised him or came from other personal experiences.

2. I wondered why Kurama was so upset when "Kuronue" accused him of betrayal, considering that he had betrayed Yomi with apparent ease. (If you haven't seen the YuuHaku movie Honou no Kizuna, this guy who appears to be Kurama's old thief pal shows up and tries to kill him, saying Kurama betrayed him. Btw, highlights of the movie: Yuusuke gets thrown through the engine of a car; and Kurama takes his clothes off for no apparent reason.)

3. Deny it if you can. Kids are cute.

This is my third YuuHaku story. It's also my third story about Kurama. What a coincidence! It was fun to write because I could make things up right left and center.

If you think Kurama is really out of character in this story, well, this is not Kurama-the-finished-product.

I know foxes live in dens, not lairs, and their babies are called kits. Lairs and pups just sounded better.

None of the names mean anything in particular except for Maraku which is just Kurama written backwards in kana. You figured that out, right? A ha ha.

Please send any comments to werefox@intrepid.net. Thanks!