Mist and snow
Who: Karasu and Kurama.
Where: Deserted construction area.
When: Around midnight.
Summary: Kurama goes for a walk at night.
After the lights had completely dimmed in his house, and silence formed a dense veil across the corridors, he soundlessly opened the window and crept outside. Elegant as a shadow, his silhouette departed from home, across the livid garden and into the street. It was better than noticing his parents, any delay would worry them. Kurama wandered into the night, embraced by the mist as it rolled behind him meshed with snowflakes. He needed that moment of isolated silence, for his own spirit. Treading with his hands shoved in the pockets of his jacket languidly staring ahead, just roaming in the murk aimlessly.
It was cold. Very Cold. Karasu could feel the winter air...or perhaps it was merely a memory of how the cold should feel. Either way....he wandered in it, a lost soul, stopping before an area laden with construction and tall machinery. There he stopped, collecting himself to think....
He did not mind the decaying environment of the abandoned construction area, how walls remained half-crumpled and grey. Damp with the weather glistening in the night. He kept advancing through those alleys into what it seemed the heart of it. Perhaps it was planned to be a the fountain in the middle of the apartment complex. The sky fulfilled the promise, blessing the night with ethereal pearls of snow. Melting to the slightest touch. Kurama looked up into the sky, glowing with steel-coated clouds, and the sky spangled with snowflakes as they fell. His hand slowly rose, suspended in the air collecting some of them, entranced by the beauty.
The snowflakes melted as they came into contact with his warm flesh, disappearing like so many forgotten memories. The air was cold, the breeze chilling as it lifted those crimson tresses, playing with them so gently. Karasu...turned, eyeing the other intently. So...someone had wandered into his nest....
Someone indeed...
His gaze remained locked in the sky and the snowflakes, like petals falling, even if they created the illusion they hovered around. The gelid wind playing with his hair seemed to condense into fingers of ice, circling his neck, reflexively drawing a shiver from him, and his cheek brushed his shoulder, dismissing the sensation. Though, he wanted to remain in that forgotten park for some more minutes, even if the weather could result
detrimental for his human body.
That was the balance of winter. Crystalline beauty meshed with harsh cold that could harm one if they were out in it too long. Violet eyes slid over Shuuichi, caressing him, possessing him. So...his pet had...wandered into the heart of...his temporary nest...?
He took a seat by the withered fountain, inviting himself to remain in that environment for longer. So many thoughts, his mother, Kuronue, their mission, the tension between Shishiwakamaru, Touya, the effects of the period's manifestation. Though he could feel the company of another spirit, but in the moment he did not mind it. In that environment he only wanted to close his eyes and abandon thought.
Karasu moved closer, watching the enchanting vision that Shuuichi created there, in that deserted place. A soft sigh left his lips as he descended, moving slowly closer. His aura was sensed...but not...who he was...
The haze created a silken mask to any figure or shape approaching. Every silhouette had the demeanor of a ghost. Pale, silent. His gaze rose from the ground, sensing someone’s eyes against his figure. It was too soft to be alive, yet too real to be a ghost. Though, in such environment, his hair, eyes and skin were the only vivid colors, the rest was grey and ash.
The world was grey. Just a great big white world, drained entirely of all other colors, except for the bleeding red of Shuuichi's hair...and the soft jade of his eyes. And of course...that hidden form that contained such cold violet eyes.
He stood up and took some steps away from the fountain, he was alone, yet he did not feel the place was completely desolated. Not a ningen, any human would now be safe in the warmth of their home. A demon perhaps? He would have managed to hear it, or at least perceive their scent. "...A wandering soul."
So now the human was talking to himself. Karasu let a silent laugh spill past his lips, pale white hand rising to cover his mouth as he perceived the other moving away from that fountain.
Nothing had reacted to his words, was this some sort of twisted reflection of hide-and-seek game? The redhead frowned and turned back warily, staring at the thick fog, gauzy with snow.
He slid past him, behind him before stalking closer, the whirl of the wind masking his steps. Cold, icy hands slid over light golden flesh, resting lightly just over the pulsepoints, nails pressing inward to the flesh.
"My my...a little lost fox...."
His body froze, deprived from all movement as if petrified by the dainty touch of winter. Through the veins of his delicate neck the pulse was soundly accelerated, his heart pounded like drums in a cryptic melody. "You are more... lost than me"
The sound of that heartbeat increasing was a symphony to his ears, and icy fingers touched over that flesh and pressed downwards a little more, hitting the points to make the other perhaps feel a little lightheaded
The icy fingertips masterfully prodding his neck tensed his nerves but soothed his body. There was only one apparition with such skill. His head tilted backward trying to shift away "Karasu."
Hands held tightly, keeping Shuuichi oddly pinned there, unable to move for the fingers prodding at his neck.
"Yes...that is my name..." camse the silken, amused moment
"Are you here ... for a rematch? Or you have also succumbed to the basic feeling... called revenge," he inquired, realizing he could not move. Stalling... perhaps he could profit this closeness between them as soon as his body adapted to the gelid fingers of the phantom.
"A rematch....?" he chuckled as if Shuuichi had just told the funniest of jokes. A rematch? Revenge? HARDLY!
"Not quite, beautiful one...." came that cold purr as he stepped forward, standing just behind the other, fingers kept rigid, threatening with a single poke to send the other to the ground
His gaze hardened into a glare, gritting his teeth into a scowl no one could see. Fury flowed through his veins as some sort of frozen blood. So different from the searing anger other creatures usually experimented. "What do you expect... from this moment... my agony?"
"Perhaps I expect for you to talk less...." came the snapping, amused reply, fingers digging for a moment, harsh talons causing crimson ribbons to appear in that pale throat.
He would have elbowed the demon's chest with a swift movement, forcing him away. Though his arms had grown numb by the weather and the pressure around his neck. Talking was the best way of stalling, Karasu must have known that. The snow continued to fall around them and the mist swirling elegantly. His body relaxed against that ghostly grip.
Talking was boring and Kurama never seemed to say anything of use or interest to the other. Oh, not to say that Karasu didn't like his voice...just not the tired words he spoke. The liquid element of Kurama's voice was rich, something to cherish....
"Every man dies, not every man lives. I wonder... in which category you are. Someone who refuses to remain dead... certainly has missed something when they had the chance to... live." His voice mused softly, with a hint of defiance, though his gaze almost closed.
"Once more you overthink your words to the point of boredom." he said with a sigh, sliding his hands upwards and through that hair before shoving the other away with a single rough gesture to send him stumbling forward. A pout behind that cold mask. Kurama....could be so boring at times! No passion....but he had passion...just locked away...
As the other had dared to dig through his hair, it awaited within the sharp edge of a thorn, cruel as a scalpel yet thin as a hair, pricking Karasu's ashen claws.
He fell on his hands and knees, still with his eyes closed but with a soft grin across his features. "Perhaps it is a matter of arrogance"
The tendrils sliced at his fingers and he raised his hands with a low laugh that bubbled into a maddened chuckle, staring at the boy on his knees before him. Sauntering forward slowly, mad eyes caressing that form.
"Mmmm...rather like a trapped fox...aren't we....?" he purred, watching Shuuichi, taking in the look of indignant fury on his face.
"Yet... you are the injured one," the boy retorted staring back at him. His eyes as two perfect emeralds, a defiant gleam curving through them. "Cornered foxes are far dangerous than free ones," he lied. It was incredibly difficult for him to remain calm in Karasu's gaze, a malevolent abyss draining his security.
"Mmm...but wounds are superficial when you're not quite...all...there!" he replied with a grand laugh, knowing that Shuuichi was grasping at straws now. The other was afraid, he could feel it, taste it, smell it on the other. Quite delicious...
"You're so afraid...your scent is drenched in fear right now....." he intoned softly, canting his head to the side ever so gently.
Karasu was taunting him again, which only made his glare deepen with frustration. "...Your arrogance was your downfall," he retorted in an attempt to shelter his feelings, weakly rising onto his feet, still feeling the ground wave under him. Why could that youkai read him so clearly. But there was something in those spidery fingers which were unnaturally pleasant, but not in a kind way.
"And your lack of care will be your own....this time around..." he murmured in response, sauntering closer in that infuriatingly slow, informal way. A hand slid down, jerking Kurama upwards by his chin, careful to grip it so as not to mar the face itself.
"But....for all Youko's knowledge....and your book trained intellect....how...smart are you, beauty?"
For a moment he fell as if his whole body was hanging from the demon's elegant claw, holding him as a hunted prey. Karasu was dangerously close, but he could feel the desire in the crow's gaze, it was so real. It couldn't be the one of a ghoul, or maybe it was so strong that not even death could appease it. "Enough to defeat you once," he mused staring back at him. Karasu's gelid fingers against the skin of his face as ghostly silk were a bittersweet cold.
"That was partly my own fault..." he said with a regretful sigh.
"I played with you for too long, beautiful one...when I should have just crushed you quickly and remembered your beauty forever...." he said mournfully.
"And now you do not long for my death, nor a fight. What do you seek?" he asked, the image of the demon unevenly blurred with the vapor wisps of his breath. The whole environment between misty curtains swirling and swallowing the mirrored surface of the walls, ground, fountain. He started doubting the reality of that moment.
"Oh...I still seek for your death..." he purred, clasping that chin all the tighter, grin growing on his lips.
"But...perhaps I should just change how I play with you beforehand. You can't remain alive after all..." he whispered softly, eyes glinting with violet, loving madness
His eyes narrowed feeling the spectral claw grip his chin possessively curved nails teasing his skin, promising to hurt him but not yet, the gnarled ends of a bristlecone. His gaze flickered, staring at that obsessive grin with secret fear no one would see, except Karasu. "I will not die so easily... though you have not replied to my question yet."
"Who said I had to, arrogant little fawn?" he replied, gingerly caressing the other's face, fury bubbling inside him at the sheer audacity. Nails lengthened into talons, slicing through the flesh just near his ear....keeping that face itself pristine. Kurama's calm tone was infuriating...something he would break him of, surely.
His eyes widened softly the icy feeling of his skin being pricked, but he knew moving his head would only invite those nails deeper into his flesh. "You have been playing with me since that night... first with shadows, now with words. Does this game amuse you so much ...or it is you have not obtained what you want yet?. I feel your eyes in my back...everywhere I go," he mused suppressing a groan. His blood slid as velvety ribbons down the curves of his face, to the crow's claw staining the deathly-pale skin.
He was growing annoying, and while Karasu didn't wish to harm Kurama's face...harming him period was a good way of ending questions that had no meaning. A hand slid down, grasping his arm thoughtfully.
"Would it...hurt too much if I snapped your arm, precious Kurama...?" he purred.
His glare deepened, knowing he could not escape from the clutch in his arm, though he could try something different at the cost of a broken bone. His free hand reached for the demon's chest, though as he planted his hand against the chest he felt there was no heartbeat. The color of his face was drained, his expression of surprise and fear. "I...cannot kill what is already dead" not even the Janen jou accepted dead victims.
That hand on his chest produced a purr, but it was not enough. That look of surprise, fear...it was heady and with a smirk that lower arm, that wrist was taken, snapped like a twig between hands cold with undeath. And he stepped back, laughing lustfully at the sight before him.
"My my...but you are fragile!"
Before he could speak again, his lips remained parted for a second before his teeth gritted into a deep wince of pain. His gaze unfocused stared at the demon blankly, but he could not see him, clouded by the pain. A soft groan escaped his throat, even if he tried to smother it. "This is what... you wanted to see.. all these days?"
"Mmm...something like that, precious...." he said in a soothing voice, roughly lifting the arm, examining his damage. Claws slid about Shuuichi's waist, holding him there for a moment, pressing a rather tender kiss to his lips.
"Your eyes are beautiful when clouded with pain...." he said gently, madly before abruptly releasing him.
He sucked his breath as the demon pulled him up, his body numb with the frigid sensation of ice spreading through his chest. It was different than bloody wounds, he was more used to them than the pain of shattered bones, creating a sort of resistance. Few had been the times in that human body when he felt that pain. As a Youko, it was different.
When Karasu picked his arm, he couldn't prevent himself from groaning again, but soon to be silenced by an impious kiss, like morphine his body grew numb with surprise, dread, fury. Falling to his knees when released, his hand weakly rose for his hair, to retrieve one of his weapons.
A hand slid through his hair before roughly tugging it once to dispel the notion of that idea.
"You're being...quite resistant...but that's why I fell in love with you I think...how strong you are...when you're just fragile at the same time..."
He abhorred the feeling that slowly took over his senses, like the darkest dreams. "...Ne..ver" He retrieved the rose, but it seemed to be frozen, or at least it didn't respond to his youki. As if something blocked it, perhaps it was himself. The red rose fell at Karasu's feet, spilling its petals as blood drops. "...You seem to know to me too well, but... I do not have masters"
That white hand slid down, lifting up the emerald and ruby blossom. It was twirled lightly before the stem broke with an audible crack...and was dropped at Kurama's feet. A soft chuckle, once more petting that hair. "Oh well...that's something we'll just have to...negotiate. Another time perhaps?"
His hair slid through the demon's fingers like streaks of the finest silk but he tried to pull away from that touch. Karasu was comparing the rose's stem with his arm, how had he easily snapped it, even the sounds were morbidly similar. But he gave him a faint glare as his free arm rose to cradle his arm, the mere touch made him wince. "...I will be waiting for your next ... visit every...single second"
"Mmmm...I hope so, beautiful...next time...I might not be so gentle..." he promised, kneeling to press one soft kiss to those lips, caressing his cheek gingerly before stepping back and away. His footsteps echoed, disappearing into a whirl of snow.
"...Karasu," he mused spitefully, feeling the weight of his body drag him to the ground, face down in the soft blanket of snow, half of his face buried in the pure snow. The cold of the ground spreading through his body, he needed sometime to ease the pain paralyzing his arm and torso. Though he was aware of the hazard icy temperatures represented, his plan was to remain there enough to numb his broken arm as some sort of improvised anesthetic, instinct.
The Crow returned a few moments later, dropping a blanket about the icy figure, then gingerly lifting him up. It would be undignified and...rather unsightly to let him freeze, so he would bear him to safety, allow him to wake up at his doorstep....so close to his home...so seemingly safe from danger. Why...even Shuuichi's own mother would thank the kindly stranger who brought her injured son home, surely!
His head dangled backward like a corpse, though aware of his situation, being pulled away with the wrap around his arm. It was comforting in some unacceptable way. However, he was well aware how tedious would have been to return home in such night, with a broken bone. But as soon as the demon's youki vanished, he rose weakly, quivering but without falling. He staggered to the backyard, no one could see him in such state, specially his mother.
Where: Deserted construction area.
When: Around midnight.
Summary: Kurama goes for a walk at night.
After the lights had completely dimmed in his house, and silence formed a dense veil across the corridors, he soundlessly opened the window and crept outside. Elegant as a shadow, his silhouette departed from home, across the livid garden and into the street. It was better than noticing his parents, any delay would worry them. Kurama wandered into the night, embraced by the mist as it rolled behind him meshed with snowflakes. He needed that moment of isolated silence, for his own spirit. Treading with his hands shoved in the pockets of his jacket languidly staring ahead, just roaming in the murk aimlessly.
It was cold. Very Cold. Karasu could feel the winter air...or perhaps it was merely a memory of how the cold should feel. Either way....he wandered in it, a lost soul, stopping before an area laden with construction and tall machinery. There he stopped, collecting himself to think....
He did not mind the decaying environment of the abandoned construction area, how walls remained half-crumpled and grey. Damp with the weather glistening in the night. He kept advancing through those alleys into what it seemed the heart of it. Perhaps it was planned to be a the fountain in the middle of the apartment complex. The sky fulfilled the promise, blessing the night with ethereal pearls of snow. Melting to the slightest touch. Kurama looked up into the sky, glowing with steel-coated clouds, and the sky spangled with snowflakes as they fell. His hand slowly rose, suspended in the air collecting some of them, entranced by the beauty.
The snowflakes melted as they came into contact with his warm flesh, disappearing like so many forgotten memories. The air was cold, the breeze chilling as it lifted those crimson tresses, playing with them so gently. Karasu...turned, eyeing the other intently. So...someone had wandered into his nest....
Someone indeed...
His gaze remained locked in the sky and the snowflakes, like petals falling, even if they created the illusion they hovered around. The gelid wind playing with his hair seemed to condense into fingers of ice, circling his neck, reflexively drawing a shiver from him, and his cheek brushed his shoulder, dismissing the sensation. Though, he wanted to remain in that forgotten park for some more minutes, even if the weather could result
detrimental for his human body.
That was the balance of winter. Crystalline beauty meshed with harsh cold that could harm one if they were out in it too long. Violet eyes slid over Shuuichi, caressing him, possessing him. So...his pet had...wandered into the heart of...his temporary nest...?
He took a seat by the withered fountain, inviting himself to remain in that environment for longer. So many thoughts, his mother, Kuronue, their mission, the tension between Shishiwakamaru, Touya, the effects of the period's manifestation. Though he could feel the company of another spirit, but in the moment he did not mind it. In that environment he only wanted to close his eyes and abandon thought.
Karasu moved closer, watching the enchanting vision that Shuuichi created there, in that deserted place. A soft sigh left his lips as he descended, moving slowly closer. His aura was sensed...but not...who he was...
The haze created a silken mask to any figure or shape approaching. Every silhouette had the demeanor of a ghost. Pale, silent. His gaze rose from the ground, sensing someone’s eyes against his figure. It was too soft to be alive, yet too real to be a ghost. Though, in such environment, his hair, eyes and skin were the only vivid colors, the rest was grey and ash.
The world was grey. Just a great big white world, drained entirely of all other colors, except for the bleeding red of Shuuichi's hair...and the soft jade of his eyes. And of course...that hidden form that contained such cold violet eyes.
He stood up and took some steps away from the fountain, he was alone, yet he did not feel the place was completely desolated. Not a ningen, any human would now be safe in the warmth of their home. A demon perhaps? He would have managed to hear it, or at least perceive their scent. "...A wandering soul."
So now the human was talking to himself. Karasu let a silent laugh spill past his lips, pale white hand rising to cover his mouth as he perceived the other moving away from that fountain.
Nothing had reacted to his words, was this some sort of twisted reflection of hide-and-seek game? The redhead frowned and turned back warily, staring at the thick fog, gauzy with snow.
He slid past him, behind him before stalking closer, the whirl of the wind masking his steps. Cold, icy hands slid over light golden flesh, resting lightly just over the pulsepoints, nails pressing inward to the flesh.
"My my...a little lost fox...."
His body froze, deprived from all movement as if petrified by the dainty touch of winter. Through the veins of his delicate neck the pulse was soundly accelerated, his heart pounded like drums in a cryptic melody. "You are more... lost than me"
The sound of that heartbeat increasing was a symphony to his ears, and icy fingers touched over that flesh and pressed downwards a little more, hitting the points to make the other perhaps feel a little lightheaded
The icy fingertips masterfully prodding his neck tensed his nerves but soothed his body. There was only one apparition with such skill. His head tilted backward trying to shift away "Karasu."
Hands held tightly, keeping Shuuichi oddly pinned there, unable to move for the fingers prodding at his neck.
"Yes...that is my name..." camse the silken, amused moment
"Are you here ... for a rematch? Or you have also succumbed to the basic feeling... called revenge," he inquired, realizing he could not move. Stalling... perhaps he could profit this closeness between them as soon as his body adapted to the gelid fingers of the phantom.
"A rematch....?" he chuckled as if Shuuichi had just told the funniest of jokes. A rematch? Revenge? HARDLY!
"Not quite, beautiful one...." came that cold purr as he stepped forward, standing just behind the other, fingers kept rigid, threatening with a single poke to send the other to the ground
His gaze hardened into a glare, gritting his teeth into a scowl no one could see. Fury flowed through his veins as some sort of frozen blood. So different from the searing anger other creatures usually experimented. "What do you expect... from this moment... my agony?"
"Perhaps I expect for you to talk less...." came the snapping, amused reply, fingers digging for a moment, harsh talons causing crimson ribbons to appear in that pale throat.
He would have elbowed the demon's chest with a swift movement, forcing him away. Though his arms had grown numb by the weather and the pressure around his neck. Talking was the best way of stalling, Karasu must have known that. The snow continued to fall around them and the mist swirling elegantly. His body relaxed against that ghostly grip.
Talking was boring and Kurama never seemed to say anything of use or interest to the other. Oh, not to say that Karasu didn't like his voice...just not the tired words he spoke. The liquid element of Kurama's voice was rich, something to cherish....
"Every man dies, not every man lives. I wonder... in which category you are. Someone who refuses to remain dead... certainly has missed something when they had the chance to... live." His voice mused softly, with a hint of defiance, though his gaze almost closed.
"Once more you overthink your words to the point of boredom." he said with a sigh, sliding his hands upwards and through that hair before shoving the other away with a single rough gesture to send him stumbling forward. A pout behind that cold mask. Kurama....could be so boring at times! No passion....but he had passion...just locked away...
As the other had dared to dig through his hair, it awaited within the sharp edge of a thorn, cruel as a scalpel yet thin as a hair, pricking Karasu's ashen claws.
He fell on his hands and knees, still with his eyes closed but with a soft grin across his features. "Perhaps it is a matter of arrogance"
The tendrils sliced at his fingers and he raised his hands with a low laugh that bubbled into a maddened chuckle, staring at the boy on his knees before him. Sauntering forward slowly, mad eyes caressing that form.
"Mmmm...rather like a trapped fox...aren't we....?" he purred, watching Shuuichi, taking in the look of indignant fury on his face.
"Yet... you are the injured one," the boy retorted staring back at him. His eyes as two perfect emeralds, a defiant gleam curving through them. "Cornered foxes are far dangerous than free ones," he lied. It was incredibly difficult for him to remain calm in Karasu's gaze, a malevolent abyss draining his security.
"Mmm...but wounds are superficial when you're not quite...all...there!" he replied with a grand laugh, knowing that Shuuichi was grasping at straws now. The other was afraid, he could feel it, taste it, smell it on the other. Quite delicious...
"You're so afraid...your scent is drenched in fear right now....." he intoned softly, canting his head to the side ever so gently.
Karasu was taunting him again, which only made his glare deepen with frustration. "...Your arrogance was your downfall," he retorted in an attempt to shelter his feelings, weakly rising onto his feet, still feeling the ground wave under him. Why could that youkai read him so clearly. But there was something in those spidery fingers which were unnaturally pleasant, but not in a kind way.
"And your lack of care will be your own....this time around..." he murmured in response, sauntering closer in that infuriatingly slow, informal way. A hand slid down, jerking Kurama upwards by his chin, careful to grip it so as not to mar the face itself.
"But....for all Youko's knowledge....and your book trained intellect....how...smart are you, beauty?"
For a moment he fell as if his whole body was hanging from the demon's elegant claw, holding him as a hunted prey. Karasu was dangerously close, but he could feel the desire in the crow's gaze, it was so real. It couldn't be the one of a ghoul, or maybe it was so strong that not even death could appease it. "Enough to defeat you once," he mused staring back at him. Karasu's gelid fingers against the skin of his face as ghostly silk were a bittersweet cold.
"That was partly my own fault..." he said with a regretful sigh.
"I played with you for too long, beautiful one...when I should have just crushed you quickly and remembered your beauty forever...." he said mournfully.
"And now you do not long for my death, nor a fight. What do you seek?" he asked, the image of the demon unevenly blurred with the vapor wisps of his breath. The whole environment between misty curtains swirling and swallowing the mirrored surface of the walls, ground, fountain. He started doubting the reality of that moment.
"Oh...I still seek for your death..." he purred, clasping that chin all the tighter, grin growing on his lips.
"But...perhaps I should just change how I play with you beforehand. You can't remain alive after all..." he whispered softly, eyes glinting with violet, loving madness
His eyes narrowed feeling the spectral claw grip his chin possessively curved nails teasing his skin, promising to hurt him but not yet, the gnarled ends of a bristlecone. His gaze flickered, staring at that obsessive grin with secret fear no one would see, except Karasu. "I will not die so easily... though you have not replied to my question yet."
"Who said I had to, arrogant little fawn?" he replied, gingerly caressing the other's face, fury bubbling inside him at the sheer audacity. Nails lengthened into talons, slicing through the flesh just near his ear....keeping that face itself pristine. Kurama's calm tone was infuriating...something he would break him of, surely.
His eyes widened softly the icy feeling of his skin being pricked, but he knew moving his head would only invite those nails deeper into his flesh. "You have been playing with me since that night... first with shadows, now with words. Does this game amuse you so much ...or it is you have not obtained what you want yet?. I feel your eyes in my back...everywhere I go," he mused suppressing a groan. His blood slid as velvety ribbons down the curves of his face, to the crow's claw staining the deathly-pale skin.
He was growing annoying, and while Karasu didn't wish to harm Kurama's face...harming him period was a good way of ending questions that had no meaning. A hand slid down, grasping his arm thoughtfully.
"Would it...hurt too much if I snapped your arm, precious Kurama...?" he purred.
His glare deepened, knowing he could not escape from the clutch in his arm, though he could try something different at the cost of a broken bone. His free hand reached for the demon's chest, though as he planted his hand against the chest he felt there was no heartbeat. The color of his face was drained, his expression of surprise and fear. "I...cannot kill what is already dead" not even the Janen jou accepted dead victims.
That hand on his chest produced a purr, but it was not enough. That look of surprise, fear...it was heady and with a smirk that lower arm, that wrist was taken, snapped like a twig between hands cold with undeath. And he stepped back, laughing lustfully at the sight before him.
"My my...but you are fragile!"
Before he could speak again, his lips remained parted for a second before his teeth gritted into a deep wince of pain. His gaze unfocused stared at the demon blankly, but he could not see him, clouded by the pain. A soft groan escaped his throat, even if he tried to smother it. "This is what... you wanted to see.. all these days?"
"Mmm...something like that, precious...." he said in a soothing voice, roughly lifting the arm, examining his damage. Claws slid about Shuuichi's waist, holding him there for a moment, pressing a rather tender kiss to his lips.
"Your eyes are beautiful when clouded with pain...." he said gently, madly before abruptly releasing him.
He sucked his breath as the demon pulled him up, his body numb with the frigid sensation of ice spreading through his chest. It was different than bloody wounds, he was more used to them than the pain of shattered bones, creating a sort of resistance. Few had been the times in that human body when he felt that pain. As a Youko, it was different.
When Karasu picked his arm, he couldn't prevent himself from groaning again, but soon to be silenced by an impious kiss, like morphine his body grew numb with surprise, dread, fury. Falling to his knees when released, his hand weakly rose for his hair, to retrieve one of his weapons.
A hand slid through his hair before roughly tugging it once to dispel the notion of that idea.
"You're being...quite resistant...but that's why I fell in love with you I think...how strong you are...when you're just fragile at the same time..."
He abhorred the feeling that slowly took over his senses, like the darkest dreams. "...Ne..ver" He retrieved the rose, but it seemed to be frozen, or at least it didn't respond to his youki. As if something blocked it, perhaps it was himself. The red rose fell at Karasu's feet, spilling its petals as blood drops. "...You seem to know to me too well, but... I do not have masters"
That white hand slid down, lifting up the emerald and ruby blossom. It was twirled lightly before the stem broke with an audible crack...and was dropped at Kurama's feet. A soft chuckle, once more petting that hair. "Oh well...that's something we'll just have to...negotiate. Another time perhaps?"
His hair slid through the demon's fingers like streaks of the finest silk but he tried to pull away from that touch. Karasu was comparing the rose's stem with his arm, how had he easily snapped it, even the sounds were morbidly similar. But he gave him a faint glare as his free arm rose to cradle his arm, the mere touch made him wince. "...I will be waiting for your next ... visit every...single second"
"Mmmm...I hope so, beautiful...next time...I might not be so gentle..." he promised, kneeling to press one soft kiss to those lips, caressing his cheek gingerly before stepping back and away. His footsteps echoed, disappearing into a whirl of snow.
"...Karasu," he mused spitefully, feeling the weight of his body drag him to the ground, face down in the soft blanket of snow, half of his face buried in the pure snow. The cold of the ground spreading through his body, he needed sometime to ease the pain paralyzing his arm and torso. Though he was aware of the hazard icy temperatures represented, his plan was to remain there enough to numb his broken arm as some sort of improvised anesthetic, instinct.
The Crow returned a few moments later, dropping a blanket about the icy figure, then gingerly lifting him up. It would be undignified and...rather unsightly to let him freeze, so he would bear him to safety, allow him to wake up at his doorstep....so close to his home...so seemingly safe from danger. Why...even Shuuichi's own mother would thank the kindly stranger who brought her injured son home, surely!
His head dangled backward like a corpse, though aware of his situation, being pulled away with the wrap around his arm. It was comforting in some unacceptable way. However, he was well aware how tedious would have been to return home in such night, with a broken bone. But as soon as the demon's youki vanished, he rose weakly, quivering but without falling. He staggered to the backyard, no one could see him in such state, specially his mother.