Cloud Dragons
Yami no Matsuei fic by Elise
Rating: G-PG
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: Yami no Matsuei is not mine. If it was, there’d be more dragons.
Summary: Kuri-Hisoka drabble. Caught between dream and reality, Hisoka is forced to tell the fearsome Dragon King Kurikara what he really wants from him.
Notes: July 28, 2003. This has been floating around my harddrive for awhile, and I decided, hey, what the hell. I’m leaving for Otakon, tomorrow, my stuff is done, and I’m bored. This is the first time I’ve gotten all my con prep done before I left, so this feels really good. Plus I’ll be cosplaying Kurikara on Friday! So here it is, sort of to get in the mood. I seem to do this a lot with Kurikara. Anyways, enjoy.
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-Is this a dream, or is it reality?-
“Like reality’s going to be any better than this…”
Kurosaki Hisoka looked around him. There was nothing but desert. He hated desert. Especially when he wasn’t sure it was real.
He couldn’t tell if he was dreaming, or if this was beyond another damn wormhole, part of Kurikara’s test. His memory was fuzzy on that.
Bristling, his anger growing at every step, Hisoka made his way to an oasis in the distance.
“That little runt… How can he… Argh!” He kicked a clump of sand. Whether he was beyond a wormhole or just dreaming, he was ready to throttle the next person who crossed his path.
He just hoped that next person was the Dragon Lord Kurikara.
Luckily for the oasis, it didn’t fade away in a mirage. Hisoka surely would have lost his already thinned temper at that. The heat and glaring sun had nearly baked him, and he gladly collapsed in the shade of the palm trees. He sat panting for a moment before he dragged himself to the water’s edge and took a tentative drink.
“It’s fine,” a voice called. “What? Do you think I’d poison this poor spring just to get you?” Hisoka snarled as he looked up. There across the pond (and it was a pond now, in a dense forest and not just an oasis) was Kurikara.
He looked infuriatingly happy, sitting on a little ledge and kicking his legs so his toes made little splashes.
“You!” Hisoka screamed and waded into the water, frantic to get at the cause of his misery. He tried to swim when it got too deep. He stopped suddenly as he heard Kurikara laugh.
“That looks like fun!” he announced, and quickly shed his clothes and dove into the water.
“Kurikara!” Hisoka nearly roared. He splashed, ungainly after the RyuOu’s smooth dive. But he was angry.
“Kurikara! I tried to be nice to you! I tried,” he shouted, “even after what you did to Souryu and Ri-riko!” He choked on the cactus-shiki’s name. “But after all that, and these wormholes, and… I can’t do it anymore! Kurikara, get over here so I can kill you!” He lunged at him. His fingertips scraped Kurikara’s chest, but he couldn’t get a hold of him.
Hisoka didn’t know how long they spent like that, the little Dragon Lord dodging his attempts, but he didn’t get anywhere near him before he had to give up. He dragged himself onto shore, his wet clothes feeling heavier by the second. As he lay catching his breath, he kept an eye on his adversary.
Kurikara seemed to be ignoring him. He idly swam across the pond and climbed up onto the small ledge he’d been sitting on before to get his clothes. He stood straight, shaking his head to get the excess water out of his now short hair, and slipped into his short yukata. He gathered up the rest of his clothes and began clambering over the rocks. Hisoka watched him warily as he approached, skirting around the water.
He struggled to sit up when Kurikara came near, and managed to prop himself up on his hands. They stared at each other for a long moment.
“Why do you want me?” the Dragon King suddenly said.
“I….” Hisoka swallowed roughly and began again. “I want your power. To protect myself, and the ones that I… care about.” He’d almost said the word ‘love’, but caught himself.
“You want my power to protect.”
“Yes.”
“Do you feel useless?”
Hisoka flinched at the blunt question. “…yes. I want to be strong, like… like Tsuzuki. He has so many shikigami, and I only had Riko, before… before you….”
“I’m sorry.”
The Shinigami looked up, his eyes wide. Kurikara stood over him, his dark hair sparkling with moisture- as well as his one good eye.
“I’m sorry about your cactus. I didn’t mean to hurt him, but Futsunomitama….” He rubbed his eye. “He was a valiant shiki. I hope… there’s a way to heal him.”
“Maybe…” Hisoka didn’t look hopeful. “They healed Souryu, but he’s much more powerful.”
“No kidding,” Kurikara said, and plunked down on the ground. “Here,” he said, handing his red kimono to Hisoka, who blinked for a second. “Change into that. It’s not comfortable to sit around in wet clothes.
“Really, I don’t understand why you jumped in the water with all your clothes on,” the dragon rambled, staring out over the water as Hisoka changed. “It’s just not right. And you shouldn’t get so excited. You’d burst a blood vessel- if you weren’t already dead.” He grinned at Hisoka. Hisoka glared at him.
“I was trying to catch you,” the blond boy said.
“You did a poor job of it.”
“How can you be so happy?! I was trying to kill you!” Hisoka looked at Kurikara with one shoe off and one still on. The Dragon Lord looked unconcerned.
“You can’t kill me,” he said matter-of-factly. “It’s just not in your power.”
“And that,” Hisoka spat, “is the root of this. If I hadn’t wanted power, I never would have sought you out like I did…”
“It’s useless to think that way,” Kurikara said. He lay back on the ground, his hands clasped behind his head. “’If’ is the most dangerous word ever invented. –If- you hadn’t wanted power. –If- I hadn’t this, -if- Souryu hadn’t that… Useless, all of it.
“If you hadn’t sought me out, we wouldn’t be sitting here having this conversation, so the whole thing means nothing!” Kurikara looked as Hisoka out of the corner of his good eye. He frowned. “You’re looking at me funny,” he accused.
“No! Well…,” Hisoka began. “It’s just odd, to hear such words from someone who looks so little.”
“I’m older than you are,” Kurikara said petulantly. “Besides, I like the way I look.”
“You’re very, ah, cute,” Hisoka said in an attempt to calm the Dragon Lord. It only earned him another glare.
“You’re not helping your case. I am not –cute-. I’m tough! Grr!”
Hisoka choked back a laugh.
“You’re laughing?! You wouldn’t laugh if I was in my real form! You’d be shivering with fear!” Kurikara looked at him again. “You haven’t seen my dragon form, have you? You’re really missing out. I’m gorgeous. Much better looking than Souryu!”
“I’ll have plenty of chances to see you when you’re my shikigami,” Hisoka said slyly.
Kurikara just smiled and stretched, wiggling his toes.
“Isn’t this a lovely place?” he said idly. Hisoka frowned at his obvious attempt to change the subject, and sighed as he finished spreading his clothes to dry.
“It’s beautiful,” Kurikara continued when Hisoka didn’t speak. “I missed things like this when I was… in the desert. Trees. Water. I missed swimming.”
Hisoka smoothed Kurikara’s kimono. It hung to an uncomfortable length at his calves, but he only needed it until his own clothes were dry.
“You look silly,” Kurikara announced as he regarded the boy.
“So do you,” Hisoka retorted. “A pint-sized Dragon Lord in a too-short yukata? Give me a break.”
“Do you want me to kill you? Because I will if you keep this up.” Kurikara glared for a moment, and then lay on his back to stare at the sky through the tree leaves.
Hisoka eventually sat next to him.
“My yukata is not too short.”
“What?” The blond looked over at his companion.
“You said my yukata was too short. It is not. It’s just fine.”
“I was angry.”
“Hmph. You need to control your temper.”
Hisoka raised his eyebrows at him. He was a fine one to talk about tempers… He didn’t say anything aloud.
They sat in silence for a long moment. Hisoka eventually lay back, his hands supporting his head. He didn’t relax though. His body was still tensed, and his eyes moved constantly, keeping watch on the RyuOu next to him.
But the sky was enchanting. It was one of those bright blue afternoons where the clouds were white and fluffy and moved constantly with the wind, perfect for cloud gazing. Although Hisoka wasn’t really given to things like that, he found himself looking for pictures in the clouds.
Dragons. He saw a lot of dragons. Always had. But today, it seemed that all the clouds twisted into serpents. There was one that writhed like a Chinese emperor’s dragon. There was one that looked like Souryu. And that one looked like the ugly little beast he’d once seen in a painting of St. George, Christianity’s most famous dragonslayer. Even what began as an elephant became a winged dragon.
Hisoka tore himself away and looked at his companion. Kurikara had turned onto his side so he could see Hisoka, who’d been on his blind side. His red eye stared at him.
“Wh-what is it?” the boy stuttered.
“You looked really peaceful for a moment,” Kurikara said. “It was… nice. But then you got all grumpy again. What did you see?”
Hisoka looked down, and immediately looked away as his gaze fell on Kurikara’s half-clothed form. He ended up staring at the sky out of the corner of his eye.
“I saw dragons. Nothing but dragons in the clouds,” Hisoka said slowly.
“Why would that make you grumpy?” Kurikara asked, puzzled.
“I… I don’t like you,” Hisoka admitted.
The Dragon Lord looked sad. “You shouldn’t be upset with all dragons for what I did,” he said.
“I know.”
“If you hate me, why do you want me as your Shikigami?”
Hisoka refused to look at him. “I want your power.”
“To protect the ones you love?”
“Yes. To fight. To be strong.”
“You told me you wanted to protect,” Kurikara said accusingly.
“I do! I want to be stronger so I can fight for myself, and protect people!”
Suddenly Kurikara was leaning over him. “I will not fight for you if you fight for the wrong reasons. There’s been enough of that. You need to decide. What do you fight for?”
“I… I…” Hisoka felt like he was suffocating with Kurikara leaning over him, holding his shoulders like he was. “Please… Please, get off me,” he said, trying to stay calm.
“Answer me.”
He couldn’t help it. This was too much like –him-, touching him, holding him down…
“Let go!” the boy screamed, kicking his legs.
“Answer me!”
“Let me go! No, no please don’t… please, let me go…” Hisoka sobbed. Kurikara rocked back on his heels, both eyes wide as he watched the boy curl into a tiny ball away from him.
“What….” He sat helpless as Hisoka’s whole body shook with remembered pain. He reached for him hesitantly, but pulled his hand back when the blond shrunk away again.
“Kid! Snap out of it, kid!” Finally, he grabbed Hisoka’s shoulders and shook him. “Hisoka!”
Hisoka stared at him blankly for a second, and he let go and shifted onto his heels.
“You… called me by my name,” Hisoka said slowly, still dazed. “I don’t think you’ve done that before.”
“Yeah, well, you didn’t flip out on me before. You were always so cold.”
“No, I wasn’t. You killed Riko!”
The RyuOu flinched at that. “This was different, though. This wasn’t anger…” He reached out and stroked Hisoka’s cheek with the backs of his fingers. “Who hurt you so badly? Are they why you need me? Hisoka pushed his hand away before he spoke.
“Yes.”
Kurikara merely looked at him with his one crimson eye, and waited for him to continue.
“He… hurt Tsuzuki. I mean, he killed me and worse than killed me, but… I don’t want him to hurt Tsuzuki again.”
“It’s Tsuzuki that you want to protect?”
“Yes. And… everyone else.” Hisoka sat up and stared out over the water again.
“These people… Are they worth protecting?”
The boy whirled on him as he said this. “Yes! Definitely yes! Tsuzuki and Watari and Tatsumi… Kachou… Kannuki… Terazuma… even those damn girls who want to put me in dresses! I’ll be strong and protect them! I won’t be the weak one anymore!
“I’ll be a proper partner for Tsuzuki!”
Hisoka slumped as he saw Kurikara’s unreadable smile.
“He already thinks you are a proper partner,” he said finally, his smile gentle. “He worries about you. I think he cares about you more than he admits.
“Like you do about him.”
Hisoka scowled, but couldn’t argue.
Suddenly there was a warmth around him. Kurikara was… Hugging him?
“That’s beautiful,” the little dragon whispered in his ear. “To have something to love and protect… That’s the most wonderful thing.”
Hisoka let Kurikara hold him. He felt oddly content to his empathy, and the Shinigami didn’t want to disturb him. But he was curious.
“Who is it that you protect, Kurikara RyuOu?”
The Dragon Lord made a broad sweeping gesture with his arm. “The land. It welcomed me back when I was hated by old friends and just a criminal to them. I still am, but the land has forgiven me.”
“I think everyone else would forgive you-“
“No,” Kurikara cut him off. “We’re too different now.”
“But you really didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I opposed the Golden Emperor, boy. That makes me very wrong.”
“But you did it because you thought it was right. To protect the humans.”
“I don’t like humans,” he insisted. Hisoka turned and glared at him.
“Then why are you holding me like this?” Kurikara was still leaning against him with his arms around his shoulders.
“You’re warm?” He shrugged and moved away, his arms sliding off Hisoka.
“I didn’t say you had to move,” Hisoka whispered. Kurikara didn’t seem to hear him. He just sat there, staring out over the pond again.
They sat in silence for a very long time.
“Hey kid?” Kurikara finally asked. Hisoka grimaced at being called ‘kid’ by someone who looked like he was twelve, but still answered.
“Yeah?”
“You never told me what you fight for.”
“I did so.”
“I want to hear you say it.”
They looked at each other, the forever-young dead boy and the tiny-statured dragon king. Kurikara opened his ruined eye, the pupil looking red and flat and milky all at the same time. Hisoka flinched away.
“To protect them,” he began softly. He looked down at his lap.
He wore Kurikara’s red outer kimono. While it fit the Dragon Lord well, it was far too small for Hisoka. It ended far above his ankles, and wouldn’t close properly over his chest. His scars weren’t visible like the dragon’s, but a thought, a dream, would make them glow a violent crimson, like the blood they were carved in.
“I want to protect everyone… From the one who hurt me.”
His voice was a whisper, but the Dragon Lord heard him clearly. He merely nodded and let the boy speak.
“I don’t want my co-workers… my friends… to be hurt like I was. I don’t want anyone to die like Mariko or Tsubaki-hime again. I don’t ever want to see Tsuzuki… like he was in Kyoto!” His voice rose. “That person… He’s horrible and evil and more of a monster than Tsuzuki thinks himself. He kills and hurts people, and he doesn’t care.
“But I care. I couldn’t protect myself, couldn’t protect Tsuzuki. I was weak! I want to be strong. I want…” He trailed off, slumping as if he’d expended all his energy on his outburst.
“Tell me,” Kurikara urged softly. He looked at the boy with both eyes still open.
“I want to be the strong one for a change.”
The Dragon King let his bad eye slide closed as his lips curved.
“And so you finally admit to yourself the truth, Hisoka.”
The Shinigami started at the sound of his name. The way the dragon said it…
Kurikara’s form darkened and grew, and the red and black coalesced together. The RyuOu clawed the ground with his five-toed forelimbs as his wings stretched out behind him. He snapped them open, raining shimmering black feathers down on Hisoka. His long neck curved, and Hisoka found himself looking the true Dragon Lord Kurikara in his garnet-red eye.
“Hisoka.”
His name again, said gently. He’d only heard it like that in his deepest dreams. Tsuzuki called him in a soft voice occasionally, but it wasn’t like this. Tsuzuki called him as a partner, with that heavy undertone that Hisoka had yet to determine. He refused to admit that it was anything more than respect, and if his heart fluttered when Tsuzuki said his name that way, that was because respect felt very much like the emotion people called love. Anyone who wasn’t careful could make that mistake.
When Kurikara said his name in that deep, dragon’s voice, somewhere between a song and a purr, it was different. There was that tiny hint of respect, to be sure, but there was something else.
Pride.
“Wh-why?” Hisoka stuttered. “Why are you so happy with me?”
“Because you found the strength to say it to me, young one.” The smile didn’t fade from the dragon’s scaly lips. Somehow, it wasn’t as frightening as Hisoka would have thought. “You were not always strong. But you want to be. You want to be better than you are, to keep your loved ones safe.”
“I don’t love…” He trailed off, unable to continue the words. He knew they were false.
Kurikara lowered his head, gently butting Hisoka. “To admit what you want, to be true to yourself, and to strive to be better… Those are important things.”
Hisoka idly reached up, and stroked the dragon’s cheek under his good eye. The scales here were so fine, they were as soft and as supple as his own skin.
“But not the most important,” he said as he ran his fingers over the dragon’s scales.
“No,” Kurikara agreed. “But I don’t think either of us is ready for the most important thing.”
“We’ll… have to work on it together.”
Kurikara snaked his neck around Hisoka, pulled the boy into an embrace. His scales moved supply, and even though they were steel-hard and sword-edged, Hisoka was not afraid of being cut by them.
“We will, Hisoka.”
There. He recognized the dragon’s tone. He’d heard Souryu, of all people, use that tone when talking to Kijin and Tenkou. He’d heard it deep in the recesses of his mind, when he was still young enough to yearn for Nagare’s attention.
Pride and kindness and that certain fondness… A father’s love.
Hisoka almost laughed then, as he realized it. This demon-dragon, non-human, outcast, who’d spoken with him rationally for mere moments, looked on him as his child. One to be loved and protected and guided. He stroked Kurikara’s scaled neck, felt his soft emotions.
This was what he’d dreamed of for years. He relaxed into Kurikara’s serpentine embrace- an embrace that didn’t bring pain, didn’t make scars flare vermilion.
“Thank you,” he whispered. Kurikara didn’t respond, just covered the boy with a warm, feathered wing. ‘You are well on your way with that most important thing,’ Hisoka thought. ‘If you can love me like this already, then real love won’t be too far for you.’ He closed his eyes.
Kurikara watched the boy with both eyes open again, and thought of the two he would be protecting. Hisoka, and Tsuzuki, Hisoka’s most important person.
He looked up into the sky, watching the floating clouds- all of them dragons. He thought of his children, and the child he held in his wing. ‘To love and to protect. The most important thing.
‘Wouldn’t you agree, Souryu?’
He wrapped both wings securely around Hisoka, and held him until his clothes were dry, and he could go home.