.
Kurama guided the palfrey mare skillfully with the reins, wishing fervently that he was somewhere else. Anywhere would do: the Ningenkai, Reikai, home... the headsman's block.
He regarded Yomi from beneath lowered lashes. His former partner seemed to believe that all this pomp and ceremony would inspire confidence in his new subjects. The Makai lord was decked out in his finest: red silk tunic and black breeches, with enough gold embroidery for a ningen family to live comfortably the rest of their lives. And wearing more makeup and jewelry than even the most tawdry courtesan would have the bad taste to. He certainly made a spectacular sight... and it probably looked a lot better to the people who weren't close enough to get a good look at him.
Shura rode beside Yomi's white warsteed on a brown one of his own. Kurama thought Yomi had made a bad choice for Shura's horse: the impressive animal made Shura seem even smaller and more harmless by comparison. The poor kid was also dressed up, but he looked more like a doll than the imposing figure of Yomi, and was well aware of it. He kept his head down, raising it only to glare at the people gathered to watch the procession. But the kid had lucked out when it came to clothes, as far as Kurama was concerned.
He felt as if he should be performing one of those hip-swaying dances done by harem girls. He would have been overjoyed, had Yomi offered him a uniform to wear. Instead, Kurama had the honor of being part of Yomi's royal entourage clad in gold-flecked, filmy cloth that failed to cover properly (or cover at all, really. He rather thought that less of his skin would be visible if he'd worn nothing but his underwear). It was cut in a style similar to what he had worn as a thief, with a few significant differences. There were sleeves, for one thing, ending in black diamond-studded cuffs of a more solid material. His pant legs ended the same, and on his feet were slippers (the sort ladies of old wore, not at all practical for any activity involving the outdoors) of a flimsy, gold-flecked black material. Around his waist was a thread-of-gold sash holding up a skirt-like black diamond-studded wrap, which was the only thing keeping his, ah, pelvic region from exposure. The transparent material was thicker around that area, but his flesh was still quite visible. If he sat the wrong way on his little mare, he'd end up exposing himself. Yomi had thoughtfully provided a sidesaddle, which, conveniently enough, matched his "outfit". His black palfrey had undoubtedly been chosen to go along with his clothes and saddle. Admittedly, his getup wasn't the worst of all Yomi's followers and courtiers, but he would have been far more comfortable in cloth that wasn't so... transparent. His one comfort was the knowledge that Shiori and Shuichi were decently clothed.
He resisted the urge to twist around in his saddle to seek them out in the servant's train. He had argued long and hard with Yomi: he was there, his friends captured. It was time to let the two ningens go. But Yomi had insisted on keeping them to "insure his further cooperation". So they had ended up tagging along; Shuichi as Shura's "manservant" ("playmate" would probably be amore accurate term, though), and Shiori as Yomi's personal maid. Kurama clenched his teeth against the surge of indignation. They would survive. That much he knew. He friends, on the other hand... well, that was a different story entirely.
He forced himself to look at them. Hiei and Yusuke were held in cages, like animals. They were chained at wrists, ankles, and necks. The four "walls" were made of iron bars far enough apart to be uncomfortable, but close enough that there was no hope of slipping through. The rest, walking, were similarly bound, sans the chains at the ankles. The restraints around their necks were attached by a length of chain to either cage; Kuwabara and Genkai to Yusuke's, Karasu and Toguro to Hiei's. It must have been humiliating, but to their credit, they all walked with their heads held high, ignoring the jeers and projectiles tossed at them from the crowd. Yusuke and Hiei likewise ignored the crowd with an icy dignity Yomi couldn't muster on his better days.
It had been like this for the week and a half they had been traveling. Back in Yusuke's territory, no one had made jokes at their expense. The youkai who had come out to stare had done so silently. Yusuke had treated his people well, and they were as loyal to their ruler as youkai could possibly be. A few days ago they had entered what had once been Mukuro's territory, and the silence had turned to taunts. Mukuro had been a strong woman, but she hadn't treated her people as well as the dark-haired boy, and they blamed their fallen leader (and, consequently, her heir) for their defeat at Yomi's hands.
Yusuke turned his head, and Kurama could feel the teen's blazing eyes come to rest on his teammate and betrayer. Kurama ducked his head, unable to meet that gaze even at such a distance.
"Kurama." The Youko grimaced and urged his mare closer to Yomi's mean-tempered steed. "You were always well-versed in surprising things. Are you familiar with the laws concerning conquered foes- or, more specifically, the rulers and heirs of fallen kingdoms?"
"Hai," he responded cautiously.
"Can you tell me what, short of death, would be considered a fitting penance for those who have stood against me- and fallen?" He was speaking loudly, and all eyes were drawn to them.
Kurama knew his lover and the others were listening, even if they kept their eyes firmly fixed ahead. "Well," he began haltingly. "public humiliation and- or- torture was considered appropriate. Drudgery under the public eye... most punishments like that take place where all can see their humiliation. It's thought to break them faster than torture, contrary to popular belief that pain works faster." He shrugged. "I wouldn't know, though- I never used that method."
"Really?" Yomi sounded amused. "I wonder why that was."
"Well, long ago when things like honor and ethics still existed among youkai, it was commonly viewed that punishment was between the punisher and the punished. Penance, on the other hand, was to be done in public- else it wouldn't be as effective, I suppose." He purposely misunderstood the Makai lord, and was gratified to see his former partner's jaw clench in anger.
"I'm sure you're making people feel insecure, criticizing them like that from your high moral ground." Yomi snarled, his voice lowered to a whisper. Kurama winced. "Anyway," his voice rose again, "my decision has been made. Public torture it will be. It can't be done forever, though. I'll make my final decision concerning their fates afterwards." He smiled pleasantly at Kurama as he spoke.
Kurama gazed doubtfully at the bed. It was huge, to be sure, but he wouldn't feel comfortable until he was miles away from Yomi, and not sharing a bed with him. In the most literal sense, of course. Just because Yomi insisted that they share a room in what was once Mukuro's palace didn't mean anything would take place between them. In fact...
"Kaasan?"
Shiori finished hanging Yomi's clothes in the tall oak wardrobe. "Kura-chan?"
He smiled a little at the nickname. "Kaasan, could you possibly find a pallet for me to sleep on?"
She frowned worriedly. "Kura-chan, are you going to be all right in here with that.. monster?"
He nodded and pulled her into a tight embrace, lightly kissing her cheek. "Don't worry about me, Kaasan. I'll be all right."
She looked doubtful, but nodded anyway. He smiled brightly and squeezed her gently before stepping back.
"Kaasan! Niisan!" Shuichi burst into the room at a dead run, Shura right behind him.
"Heyla, Jichan, 'baasan!" Shura tackled Shuichi, and they both tumbled to the floor.
"Boys! Take it outside!" she admonished fondly. Whatever her opinion of Yomi was, she didn't let it affect her judgment of his son. "How many times have I told you not to roughhouse inside?"
"Lots," Shuichi grinned impudently.
Kurama dropped gracefully to the ground next to them. "Hapless reprobates," he growled playfully, his fingers digging into their sides. "You know perfectly well that disregarding Kaasan's words will incur my wrath. Infidels!"
"Aah! That tickles, Niisan!" Shura managed to wiggle away, and Kurama turned his full attention to Shuichi. "Kaasan!" he spoke in a high-pitched squeal. "Help me! SHURA! HELP!!"
Kurama pinned the youth down, tickling mercilessly until Shuichi begged for reprieve. Shura tugged at his arm, but darted away when Kurama turned his gaze on the young youkai. Finally satisfied, he stopped, pinning Shuichi's arms to the ground.
"I dunno," he said doubtfully. "You've been an awfully bad boy, Shuichi. I don't know if I should let you go or not." He bit back a smile as Shuichi hastened to assure him that he'd behave himself. "What do you think, Kaasan?"
She beamed at them. "Aww, let him go, Kura-chan. Boys will be boys." The last being said with exaggerated exasperation.
He acquiesced with a smile, releasing his stepbrother and standing. Shuichi only got as far as his knees before Shura pounced on him. Kurama chuckled and shook his head. "Now, what did I just tell you?"
Shura grinned at him. "Hmm... I think you just told us not to disobey Shiori-baasan. But Jichan," his grin turned to a look of wide-eyed innocence. "Shuichi needs all the practice he can get. He doesn't even know how to fight."
"Speaking of practice," Yomi stated from the doorway. "You might as well get some yourself, Shura. You've been slacking lately."
Shura jumped to his feet, dragging Shuichi with him. "C'mon," he said to the ningen boy. "You can watch me practice. Maybe you'll learn something."
Yomi whispered something to Shiori, and she followed the boys out, giving Kurama a concerned glance over her shoulder. Yomi didn't speak again until the door had closed behind them. The Makai lord draped himself gracefully over one of the chairs. Neither of them spoke for several minutes. 'He's sitting so still... you'd think he part of the furnishings,' Kurama thought dryly, 'if he were a piece of cloth. Then again, he'd probably make a really ugly drapery.'
Yomi sighed softly, running a hand through his hair. "Kurama, Kurama," he murmured softly. "What am I going to do with you?"
"Well, you could always let me go... and while you're at it, you could release my friends and family." he suggested helpfully.
Yomi barked a laugh. "And I could also give all my new-won territory back to Yusuke and Hiei. But just because I could, doesn't mean I would."
It was Kurama's turn to sigh. "Well, can I at least take of this- this thing?" He tugged irritably at the filmy cloth that didn't really cover him.
"You can take it off anytime you want." His voice was bland.
Kurama bit back a retort. "You know that wasn't what I meant, Yomi."
The horned youkai smiled. "Do I?" He stood up abruptly, walking over to Kurama and standing in front of him. Kurama started to turn away, but Yomi grabbed his shoulder, forcing him to face the Makai lord.
"Funny, how things change. It wasn't all that long ago that you would have taken off your clothes without a second thought." His voice became bitter. "You would have gone to bed with me even faster. You would have fucked anything, as long as it was marginally intelligent and didn't smell bad. What happened to you, Kurama?"
"It isn't the same anymore." He tried to pull away. "I found things I care about more than.. physical pleasure."
Yomi's grip tightened. "So when your dark-haired friend fucks you, you don't enjoy it?"
Kurama blanched. "How do you-?" He shook his head. "I didn't say that, Yomi. I said-"
Yomi walked backwards, dragging the kitsune with him. "I heard what you said, Kurama. That you found things to care about.. like your dark-haired friend. What did you tell him, Kurama?" Yomi jerked him forward and stepped aside. Kurama fell onto the bed, immediately rolling over in a futile attempt to escape Yomi. His former partner dropped onto him, using his greater weight to pin Kurama down.
"Did you tell him you loved him? Did you fill his head with wonderful lies? Are you going to screw him like you screwed me?"
He flinched as if struck. "No, Yomi... I told you, I'm different now. I won't do that to him."
"You won't?" His voice carried disbelief. "People change, Kurama... but they don't change that much."
Yomi caressed his thigh with one hand, using the other to pin Kurama's wrists to the bed. "Stop it, Yomi!" The redhead twisted under him, trying to get his legs in a good position to kick. Yomi's hand wandered to his stomach as the Makai lord twisted with him to prevent his escape. "Pleas, Yomi," he begged. "Stop this! Whatever went on in he past, there's nothing between us now, Yomi!"
"Nothing between us now," he agreed. "Nothing but our clothes." Yomi gripped the thin material and ripped it, as easily as ripping paper.
"YAMERU!"
Yomi released his hands, intent on ripping the thin material from his body. Under other circumstances, Kurama would have been delighted to get the stuff off, but now...
He batted at Yomi's hands, then grabbed the edge of the bed and tried to pull himself away. Unable to escape Yomi's grasp, he reached into his hair for a seed.
The movement did not go unnoticed. Kurama barely had time to cry out as Yomi's fist connected to the side of his head. The world seemed to spin as his vision darkened.
.
:Kurama:
He got to his feet slowly. Purplish grass swayed in a gentle breeze. The red-orange sky was streaked with green clouds. Before him stood Karasu. He wasn't wearing a mask, and the smile on his face made him that much more beautiful. But something seemed strange about him.
'Oh yeah,' Kurama thought with a start. 'He's wearing his coat, but I know I didn't give it back..' He shook his head slowly, confused. It all seemed so.. surreal.
:Kurama, my love.:
"Karasu?"
:You're not doing so well.:
"I'm not?"
Karasu gestured, and Kurama looked down with surprise. He was naked, for one thing. Blood trickled down his thighs. There were several other scratches on his arms, legs, and chest that were bleeding, too. "Ooooh." he said slowly. "I see now."
:I don't think so.:
"No?" He ran one hand through his hair. It felt kind of sticky. He brought his hand up before his eyes. It was covered in blood.
"Oh! Now I get it!" Why did everything feel so strange? Thinking was an effort. A painful effort. So he tried not to think.
:You'd better go back.:
"Back where?" He sat down. Standing took to much energy, and he was feeling very tired all of a sudden.
:Back to wherever you were.:
"Ah." He wanted to sleep. Yawning, he lay down, cradling his head on his arms as he drifted off...
.
...and back.
He was vaguely aware of Yomi on top of him. Raping him. But he couldn't seem to focus on anything. He drifted lazily in that place that's halfway between consciousness and unconsciousness. He wanted to sleep... but something told him he's be better of staying awake. He might not wake up, after all.
That thought struck him as hilariously funny. He began to giggle. It hurt, but he couldn't stop.
Gods help him.
Kuwabara snored loudly. Very loudly. It was a good thing, Karasu decided, that he didn't want to sleep. The carrot-top was louder than a steam engine, and no one would get to sleep listening to that. It didn't matter to him, though. He had enough of sleep, and what it brought.
Kurama haunted his dreams. Before, they had been normal dreams: of making love to him, touching him, holding him. Nightmares of him, laughing cruelly, taunting him. Betraying him. Then, the day they'd arrived at what should have been Hiei's palace, the dreams had changed. That first day, after they were tossed into the dungeons, Karasu had immediately fallen asleep. He'd had two dreams; the first one had been Yomi making love to the redhead, with Kurama lying limply beneath him. It had faded into a washed-out surreal landscape. Kurama had been there, too, naked and bleeding. His read hair had been matted with blood, and he'd seemed dazed. Karasu had watched with a sort of fascinated horror as the kitsune had dropped to the ground and fallen asleep. He'd wanted to shout, to shake him, anything to keep the redhead awake. But he hadn't, and the dream had faded. He'd waken up with tears streaming down his face.
Ever since then, his dreams had been more disturbing. Kurama pleaded with him every night to understand. Sometimes he begged for help. Sometimes he said things that hurt Karasu. Or, even worse, sometimes those green eyes would hold love, and understanding, and he'd tell Karasu to kill him for his betrayal. Once upon a time, he would have gladly taken Kurama up on his offer.
But not anymore.
The door to the cell swung open. Two unfamiliar guards marched in. Kuwabara slept on. Genkai and Toguro were both alert, and tense. As far as Karasu knew, Hiei and Yusuke were being held in "special" cells.
The guards, after consulting each other, came to him and hauled him to his feet. "You've been summoned by Yomi-sama."
He remembered Yomi telling him they had something to discuss- had it really only been two weeks ago? It seemed more like two months. Shrugging, he obediently followed the guards out of the cell. They led him out of the dungeons, up several flights of steps, and down a bunch of long hallways. By the time they reached their destination, he wasn't sure which way was north.
The room they had brought them to wasn't, to his surprise, an audience chamber. In fact, it seemed that they had led him to the lord's personal chambers.
The man himself was seated with his back to the door. He gestured for Karasu to come forward, and one of the guards prodded his back. He walked forward and took the comfortable looking seat facing Yomi.
"So," the powerful youkai said musingly. "You're Kurama's new lover."
Karasu stiffened. "Not anymore." he said fatly.
Yomi chuckled. "You say that now. But if he came to you tonight, you wouldn't shove him out of your bed."
The chuckle turned into a hearty laugh at Karasu's silence. "No need to deny it. I know I would do the same. In fact, I daresay that you would forgive him anything, if only to hear him say 'I love you.'" The laughter cut off abruptly. "I wanted to kill you, you know. Kill you for daring to touch him, to love him." He leaned forward, and Karasu began to feel uneasy. "But then I realized we're not so different, you and I."
"How so?" Karasu murmured softly.
The smile Yomi gave him was twisted and bitter beyond belief. "I love him too, you know. For over a thousand years, I have. And once, he loved me back. Or so he claimed. He told me I was "the one"... that we'd be together forever." His laugh was harsh. "I was a fool to believe him, then. The same way you're a fool, now."
Karasu bowed his head.
"We have so much in common. I decided some friendly advice would be in order, instead of a painful torture and slow, agonizing death." Karasu coughed, and Yomi smiled. "Heed me well. Kurama uses people. For sex, prestige, wealth.. you name it. He'll fuck you for the hell of it. He takes a perverse delight in toying with people's emotions. Sometimes, I think he can feed off suffering."
Karasu shook his head in disbelief. Kurama? Feeding off people's suffering? That didn't sound like his fox at all.
Yomi sighed. "I realize you don't want to believe me. It's hard to admit someone you care about is doing that to you, and harder still to admit that you never figured it out. It took me years before I could bring myself to face the facts. Kurama used me, and then he discarded me like bad milk. He's probably got more than a thousand screws on his scorecard. And now, he's using you."
Karasu didn't reply. But Yomi's words were getting to him. And.. they hurt.
The Makai lord sighed again and stood. "Well, I hope you will at least consider what I've told you." He shook his head at Karasu's foolishness. "Anyway, once I've dealt with Yusuke and Hiei, you four will be free to go. Guards!"
And just like that, Karasu was escorted back to the dungeon. As soon as Yusuke and Hiei were "dealt with", they could leave. But what would he do about Kurama?
Then it occured to him to wonder if Kurama would ever be free to leave.
Kurama drifted awake slowly. He didn't want to face the day. Not Kaasan, not Shuichi, not Shura, not Yomi... and especially not Hiei. He grimaced at his own reminder. Today, in Mukuro's own palace, Hiei would be publicly humiliated. He'd be tortured, and reduced to a pitiful, weeping thing.
Or so Yomi intended. Personally, Kurama wasn't sure Hiei would be broken so easily.
He sat up in bed, bleary-eyed. He stumbled out of bed and to the wardrobe, pulling out his Chinese-style yellow tunic. After fracturing his skull, Yomi had decided he didn't want to share a room with Kurama anymore. The serious injury had demanded a Healer's attention, and when he had awoken, he had been in his new room. To his surprise and delight, his clothes had been returned- including Karasu's jacket.
"Good morning, Kurama." The redhead grimaced and turned to face his gracious host, clothes in hand.
"Yomi."
His former partner smiled. "You're looking well this morning, Kurama."
"I've been better."
"I love you, fox."
Kurama gave him a sharp look. "I love me, too."
Yomi sighed, walking toward him and wrapping his arms around the Youko. He dropped the clothes and tried to pull away. "I wish you wouldn't struggle, Kurama. It would make things so much more enjoyable. For both of us." He added with a smile. "I know if you'd just relax, you'd enjoy it."
Kurama disagreed. So he kept on struggling. Yomi was rough, but Kurama had had worse. Yeah, he could relax- he could also tell Yomi he loved the youkai back. And that would be wrong. It didn't hurt so much when he thought of it like that.
Yomi left when he was finished, warning Kurama not to be late to the ceremony. That was what he called it: a "ceremony". Kurama shook his head and pulled on his clothes, not bothering to do anything about the blood trickling down his thighs. It would dry.
He saved Karasu's jacket for last, pulling it on with a sad smile. He hoped his love would be okay. At least he'd be better off than Hiei and Yusuke.
Kurama wanted to cry.
Instead, he ran a brush through his hair, and then went off in search of his mother. Hopefully she and Shuichi didn't plan on attending today's "ceremony". That was something he wished to spare them both.
He didn't find them, though. Unhappily, he headed to the courtyard. The "ceremony" would begin soon. He was almost there when he saw the guards escorting the "guest of honor".
"Hiei."
He was running toward them before he realized what he was doing. "Hiei!" The guards stopped, looking uncertain. They all probably knew he was Yomi's... companion, but they didn't know whether or not they should allow him to talk to the dangerous prisoner.
He made the decision for them.
Shoving the guards roughly aside, he dropped to his knees beside the little Koorime. "Hiei. Hiei, I-"
The fire demon snorted softly. "Don't, Kurama. I know."
He took a deep breath. "No, Hiei.. I need to say this." Hiei's red eyes met green ones that glistened. "I-I want you to understand. What I did- I... you know how a feel about Kaasan. What Yomi was going to do to her... I couldn't just leave her. She's defenseless. Can you understand? You're my best friend, Hiei. I would never betray you without good cause." He knew he was babbling, but he really did want the Koorime to understand his dilemma. He hoped Hiei could.
The short fire demon was no longer bound at wrists and ankles. There was only the iron collar, and the wards. They were dragging him around like a pet dog. A *dangerous* pet dog.
Hiei placed a hand on his shoulder. "Don't be upset, Kurama. I do understand." Kurama could almost loose himself in those ruby depths. "I understand because we're exactly alike, fox. That's what drew me to you. Drew us together. You have always understood me because we're the same. We think the same, reason the same.. love the same. You hold on to some emotions, and let others show in your eyes. I do the same... just not the same emotions."
Hiei smiled, a kind, loving sort of smile. "I know why you did what you did. If our positions were reversed, and it was Yukina being held as insurance, I'd have done the same thing. The exact same thing." He nodded firmly. "Don't worry about us, Kurama- as far as I'm concerned, nothing has changed between us."
Kurama gave him a grateful smile. "Thank you, Hiei."
He snorted wryly. "It's ridiculous, the way you do that... but don't thank me. And don't think that Yusuke and Karasu will understand so easily."
Kurama grimaced. "I know."
"Yusuke might be able to understand... he has Keiko, after all. But then again, he isn't like you and me. He's never experienced having only one person who really mattered to him. And Karasu has never had any.... perhaps you can make him understand. I don't think it'll be easy, though."
Kurama wrapped the Koorime in a tight embrace. "Hiei, you're the best friend I've ever had." He was becoming all misty-eyed again.
"Don't get all emotional on me," he warned. Kurama chuckled softly. Hiei reached into his shirt and pulled out a black pouch, attached to his neck by a leather thong. He pulled it over his head and handed it to his partner.
Kurama eyed the pouch curiously. It contained a bunch of little things, and was surprisingly heavy. "Those are my teargems." Hiei explained. "Just about every one I've cried since I was old enough to know their value. I once thought I'd sell them, but ever since I met you, I've been reluctant to part with them."
"Hiei-"
"One of them goes to Yukina. One to Yusuke. The rest, I want you to keep."
"Oh, Hiei..." Now he really was going to cry. "This isn't the end. Yomi isn't planning on killing you. He just wants to break your spirit."
"I doubt it, Kurama. Yomi wants my blood."
He shook his head in mute denial. "Hiei..."
"Uh, Kurama-san?" The captain of the guards shifted his feet awkwardly. "We need to be takin' the prisoner, now..."
"Hai." He stood, wiping his eyes. He and Hiei shared a quick glance and a smile before the guards hauled him to his fate. Kurama followed, but then headed off toward the balcony overlooking the courtyard. Yomi wanted the kitsune to get a good view.
The pouch went around his neck. He didn't wear it hidden, like Hiei had. When he reached the balcony, Shiori gave it a curious look. Shura ignored him, intent on what was going on below.
He wrapped his arms around his mother. "Kaasan," he whispered in her ear. "What are you doing here? I really think you shouldn't watch this."
She leaned against him. "Yomi insisted." she murmured. "I managed to persuade him to let Shuichi stay behind, though. He's too young to see this." She pulled out of his embrace and glanced pointedly at Shura, who was perched on the balcony's rail.
Kurama walked over to him, leaning on the rail next to the boy. "You really shouldn't watch this, Shura. It could get... messy." Shiori gave him an approving smile.
"Awww, Jichan... the messy stuff is the best part."
Kurama shook his head. "Shura, I really must insist-" He broke off, something in the courtyard snagging his attention. Hiei was brought out, and pelted with veggies, stones, gerbils and other small, furry animals, blue buttons and other things people threw because they generally didn't want them.
Yomi stood in the middle of the courtyard, a space cleared around him. "People," he cried. "Today we mete out punishment to one too weak to protect his territory."
Thunderous applause and cheers followed his announcement. Kurama ignored the rest of Yomi's speech, focusing on Hiei. The fire demon seemed to be taking it all well. Kurama wished there was some way to spare him.
Yomi gestured, and the guards hauled Hiei forward. They bound him to a pole placed there at Yomi's order.
"We'll make this pathetic weakling beg for mercy!"
Kurama blanched as the torture began.
For the most part, Yomi used only his hands. Occasionally, he used a knife. The crowd gathered to watch was so silent, you could here the hypothetical pin drop. Hiei grunted, sometimes cried out. He never begged for mercy, though. Kurama knew his pride was too great for him to do that.
Yomi drew the knife across Hiei's chest, down his stomach. "Some of those ningens you love so much have been pretty creative in the past." Yomi said conversationally. "The Celts, now... or was it the Druids? Anyway, they devised an interesting method of torture. What they did is they cut open the victim," He slashed Hiei's gut, opening him all the way across. "Then, they removed part of the lower intestine," Hiei grunted as Yomi shoved his hand in, pulling out the said organ. "They would tie that part around a pole, like this one."
Hiei's bonds dropped away. Yomi tied part of the intestine to the pole. Kurama felt sick. "You know what they did then, Hiei?" The Koorime shook his head. "They ran them around the pole until the unfortunate victims disemboweled themselves."
The crowd cheered.
Hiei smirked. Battered, bleeding, bruised and about to be disemboweled, he smirked. Kurama's heart ached for him. "Torture me all you like, Yomi." he told the horned youkai. "I understand. You just don't have the balls to kill me yourself. Just like you don't have the balls to win Kurama. You would have me kill myself, and you have to take hostages to insure you have a bed partner. I pity you."
Kurama felt Yomi's power rise with his rage. "You dare-" he snarled. "Insignificant worm! OMAE O KOROSU!"
He drew his fist back as Hiei laughed in his face. Then, surprisingly, he tilted his face up toward Kurama and smiled. Kurama's world seemed to come to an end as Yomi's fist connected with Hiei's chin. A horrible ripping sound followed, and then, in slow motion, Hiei's came flying off. Up, up...
Yomi's aim was true, and the head landed on the balcony. Shura fell backwards off the rail. Shiori fainted.
Kurama did the only thing he could do. He dropped to his knees and scooped up Hiei's head, cradling it in his arms.
"Oh..oh gods, no....Hiei...."
"HIIIIIIIIEEEEEEIIIIIII!!!!"
. .
