It was very clear to him Shura was more than his son; he was his clone, almost a perfect copy of himself. Did it mean then they would share not only similar qualities but also similar destinies?

He hoped not.

In fact, he'd do all he could to prevent such a thing from happening.

He walked around in his chambers, reaching the balcony. There, he faced Gandara, gazing upon it with his blind however gifted eyes. He wanted his son to inherit that city and the dominion over the Makai from him, not some silly passion for a youko.

He crossed his hands at his back, walking a narrow path amidst the flourishing shrubs. He had turned that balcony into a sun parlor where he kept his garden of Dream Flowers. Another of the secrets of his life, which he shared not only with Youko Kurama, but with Yoda and Shura; after all there was no way to hide those plants from them; however, he did conceal the kind of  dreams that flower's fragrance granted him.

He breathed deeply. The Makai was almost totally under his rule by then.

He had had Shura painstakingly trained to be the ruler of the Demon Land, and never had he come to him with such questions he'd feel so vexed in answering.

Yomi became astounded with his questioning about the youko. Shura had never shown any curiosity on the topic, even though the young youkai knew Youko Kurama and his father had shared a common past.

The King of the Makai's reply to his son had been simple and straightforward - A long list of adjectives portraying everything Youko really were.

Treacherous. Guileful. Debauched. Unfriendly. Cold. Cruel. Greedy. Vile. Selfish. Black Hearted. Unfaithful. Enticing. Immoral...

Shura's eyes grew wide with startlement as he heard his father's words.  On purpose Yomi had let slip the quality of  the youko which had marked his life with Kurama most deeply.

Irresistible.

His love for that Silver Youko had cut a scar through him, deep and still indelible.

As he narrated some of his past adventures during the time he had been part of Kurama's gang, Yomi hid far more facts than he revealed. He judged rather than described, he condemned far more than disclosing, and all the while he omitted names.

Even then the pale Demon King blushed, a little vexed as he failed to overlook some details of his past; details he'd always kept for himself.

His task was to convince Shura the devilish ways a youko could spin anyone around, and he was pretty sure he managed that. All the while the young youkai listened to his father attentively, and the more he heard, the more desolate he became. But at the end, he acquiesced his horned head serenely, vowing to Yomi he'd never be interested in any youko again.

Shura had just been informed a youko was a being with tricks enough to keep anyone under his thumb; a not very interesting position for the future ruler of the Makai to be in.

Yomi watched his son's disillusionment with regret. However he knew it would better for the kid to have his expectations broken now than when his feelings had grown to a undeniable, all enveloping passion.

He had made Shura to be his secret weapon, his disposable ally. But his feelings for his clone had emerged and evolved, and to his surprise, he really considered his replica a son by then. He had greater plans for Shura, and he would not allow any alteration in the course of actions he had foreseen for his heir.

Fortunately there were not many youkai who knew of his life during the days he shared Youko Kurama's company. Kuronue was no more; luckily for Yomi, dead youkai told no tales. By the time Youko Kurama had dumped him, Yomi's hazardous leadership had already wiped out most of the gang. Yomi had heard the youko himself terminated the rest, killing one by one when they tried, in a mutiny, to find and dig out the fox spirit's well hidden treasure.

The whole Makai knew Yomi and Kurama had shared a past,  but everyone failed to know the details involved. Shura didn't know his father and that Silver Youko had been lovers. Neither did he know of the treason Yomi had suffered, which had caused his blindness. All these details had been omitted. Shura knew no more than the rest of the Makai, and Yomi would do all he could to keep it that way.

Yomi was a bit ashamed of  his past. But he could not let go of it.

The youko was an obsession in his life. A drug he had been addicted to, a nightmare disguised in a dream he could not stop longing for.

In a sense, the youko who had caused all that, the youko Yomi loved,  existed no longer. The Gandara King was merely friends with that soft tempered Ningen in youko form who called himself Youko Kurama.

But he was not Youko Kurama. He was not the wild, wicked youko Yomi dreamed of.

Inside his darkness, his memory made him recall his son's semblance. Shura was constantly changing, growing and becoming more powerful with every passing day. In another year he'd be a full-fledged youkai. Soon Shura would be as powerful as Yomi himself  was. And in another couple of years, he'd be more powerful yet.

Now he had another motivation to make him yearn to rule the Makai more intensely yet. He wanted the Demon Land not only for himself, but for his son. He was already the King undercover. In fact, Enki was nothing but a puppet, and Yomi was just waiting for the next Tournament to make official, acceptable before the Reikai, a fact every single youkai knew all over the Makai.

Laizen's followers had been totally dispersed after Yusuke gave up the Makai. Mukuro had been permanently put out of his way, he was the sole Overlord of the Makai. There was not the slightest resistance in the case he'd assume the dominion over the Demon Land. It was an unquestionable fact by then.

Yomi would do everything to make sure Shura would be powerful and determined enough to inherit it.

There was no place for a youko in his son's life. Period.

Inside, Yomi knew the need to be a King was not the main reason for him to be so enthusiastic to undermine Shura's interest for the youko he said he knew. Inside, Yomi was not worried about the Kingdom - He was worried about Shura himself. He didn't want his son to suffer like he had.

Loving a youko was not easy.

That Jagan Master, Hiei,  had been very lucky; he knew Kurama after he had gained a human heart and higher feelings.

But who was this youko Shura said he knew? Yomi would need to investigate it further, just to guarantee they'd be apart. Shura was yet very naive. He had been given a very formal, strict education, and the toughest training possible in the Makai. He had been brought the best tutors and masters.

Yomi just needed to keep himself in the background, and pull strings to call off the Tournament for another year or two, till Shura completed his preparation. Then nothing would stand in his way.

However strong and well versed in the labyrinths of politics and state affairs, Shura was not experienced enough to resist the cunning allurement of a youko.

The king crossed the scented, enticing garden of flowers to stand closer to the balcony's edge. He could not actually see, but he could join the vibrations, the sounds, the smell and the energy and turn all these impressions into a very vivid, detailed mental image. His inner eyes could see far; further than any real eyes.

As his sharp, well developed senses wrapped Gandara, he was flooded by visions, thoughts, and noises, and tried to focus his power, channeling it to probe into the city, grasping voices, conversations, watching his people come and go.

There were two youko in the city.

He could not grasp much of them... One of them was too weak, already leaving the city borders out of his reach. The other was a class B, no less. But he kept his you-ki at low levels, as if disguising himself, pretending to be weaker than he really was.

He had never met any youko other than Kurama, but he didn't look forward the experience. The attempt might reopen old, healed wounds.

The blind King reached out to caress one flower bud, growing from a shrub next to him. He had no time for any of his dreams now, however tempting they were. Reality was demanding his care. He'd have a meeting with his Generals in some instants. Later he'd see some powerful finalists from the latest Makai Tournament; he'd offer them unequivocal reasons to accept that the next tournament be postponed. And more important than that, he needed to organize a strong surveillance around Shura, to make sure he'd never see any infamous youko again.

Yomi would do everything to guarantee his son's peace of mind, and so as to say, his own peace of mind too.

He'd save his dreams for the evening.
 
 
 

Hikaru had left Kinno on the city's borders some time ago. The afternoon was almost over, and while the kid was on his way back to Kurama's territory, he was left alone to ramble around the city a little more.

He walked around for some time, always playing with a small stone, rolling and fidgeting it in his fingers so as to have something to do with his hands. All the while he roamed downcast and quiet, mostly unnoticed. Even with his long hair, and his shiny blue eyes, being a beautiful youko, he still managed not to attract attention - Exactly like he intended.

Probably that's why he enjoyed hanging around with Kinno. All eyes fell upon he golden youko, and he was conveniently overlooked. It was better for one like him, who had always been too shy and introverted.

Being ignored was a good way to avoid trouble, as well.

Part of  Gandara was a large, high city, built atop tablelands and wide, suspended platteaus. platforms and enormous pillars. Hikaru stopped on top of a bridge which linked two elevated areas of the city. A shallow, rocky river cut the bottom of the canyon below, merging back into the forests.

In a way, it was beautiful to see how the wilderness and the civilization merged perfectly in Gandara. He smiled softly, enjoying the beautiful but violent view as lightning slashed the purplish horizons.

The ruler of that city must be a tyrant. It was the only way to be in order to manage to control so many different youkai under a single rule.

Hikaru didn't disapprove of that. He knew there were the ones born to rule, and the ones born to be ruled. That was the way of  the Makai.

Unfortunately, he had not made it up to the first category yet.

He looked down the shallow, tormenting waters which struggled their way in between the rocks on the riverbed below, with one hand carefully placed on the cemented parapet, as he bent over.

He reached in his pocket, to bring a small stone into view.

He had vowed to himself he'd go back to his home only when he could turn any single stone found on the way, any little piece of trodden clay into a precious gem.

But he knew he'd never do it.

Worst of all, he was tired of trying, but he could not help it.

He threw the small stone away, watching its long fall to the river below.

Hikaru had just come to a conclusion about Gandara. He would leave the city. He'd regret it, but he ought to say goodbye to Kinno the following day.

It was then he noticed an evil presence by his side, appearing out of nowhere. His ears twitched involuntarily, and he looked out over his shoulder, alarmed, sensing a vague, very tall, broad shadow enter his field of vision.

He had no time to react. He just cried, when he felt one strong hand clutch around his tail, lifting him up from the ground. He tried to support part of his weight, reaching out for the ground, blinded by all his hair tumbling straight over his face, but then he suffered another harsh pull up. Tight, harsh fingers grabbed him by a lot of his hair, and he was suspended in the air, lifted high by a quick, menacing strength.

He tried to cry out for help,  but a sudden pain prevented him from giving any alarm. A sharp pain made him twitch, coming from his tail when the tightening hand pulled it, and twisted it evilly.

His head burned. He could even hear some of his strands being torn, not resisting his own weight.

"Let me Go!" Hikaru cried out, unable to conceal the fear which made his soft voice tremble. He tried to react, struggling to set himself free from the strong clutches,  He made a painful attempt to turn over to see who his enemy was, but he was shaken violently as he lay suspended by his tail and by his hair, like a small, weightless toy.

"Put me on the ground!" He insisted, doing all he can to make his words sound firm and confident, but as he looked down and saw the ground down below, beyond his reach, he knew he was in deep shit

"Where's Kinno?"

Hikaru felt a shiver of fright running down his spine. He knew that deep, roaring voice... It was You-Know-Who; Kinno's pimp.

He looked at the monster, large and high as a boulder, who smiled perversely with long tusks protruding from his lower jaw, wicked slant eyes and vicious expression in wild, enraged yellow eyes. He had never seen him this close. He was loathsome...

The grey youko knew he had only one way out of it.

"Put me back on the ground and I'll tell you."

He heard a very evil, hoarse chuckling sound, and the fingers around his tail tightened their grasp.

"I paid a lot for the information... Then it's true? You can't do anything if your hands or feet are not touching the ground?" He roared, while keeping a fixed, maniacal look upon Hikaru.

The striped youko shut his eyes, scared, hurt as his hair was pulled under his own weight, and his tail twisted and yanked harshly. He cried again, and his blue eyes looked around, eager for help. But there was only he and You-Know-Who. He must have been watching him, waiting patiently till he was vulnerable and there were no guards around...

Damn!

Providentially, Kinno had already left the city.

He stared at the huge, imposing demon, struggling to show a brave face. He chewed his lips to be able to stand the pain which made his scalp burn like it was on fire. He swallowed another scream when he heard a sound of breaking bones as his tail was twisted again...

His face grew paler with fear and pain, but yet he tried to stretch one arm, extending eager fingers down to try to touch the ground. If he could at least touch the pavement with one, one single finger he could...

The pain grew. The youkai suspended him higher when he realized what he was attempting.

"Where's my property?"

Hikaru had no support, no balance, and the pain was a very intense one. The taller youkai lifted him up a bit more, Hanging higher, Hikaru could almost look at that detestable youkai at eye level.

He felt another pull. The pain was so deep this time he felt his stomach revolt, and he almost threw up...

"Say it, or I'll tear off your tail!"

"No!" Hikaru gave the bigger youkai a defiant glare. He stopped struggling for a moment, and instead of trying to grasp the air, he clenched his fists, and his whole body grew taut with anger.

"It's your last chance. If you don't say it I'll take you in his place!"

Hikaru was yet cold enough to offer the huge youkai a contemptuous smile.

"Lock me in your dungeons and you'll see what I'll do to your Stone Fortress! You can't keep me suspended in the air forever!"

The large youkai's answer was a vigorous twisting on Hikaru's hair, what made him sure to have lost a lot of his long tresses.

The thick eyebrows of the monster met in between his eyes when he frowned, enraged. His breathing was noisy and short. He growled and driveled from the corner of his wide open, tusked mouth. The monster was indeed detestable; a true beast.

Hikaru's ears twitched again, when he perceived other youkai coming up the bridge. He gave out a loud cry, calling for the city guards.

It was then that You-Know-Who let go of Hikaru's hair, just to hold him by one ankle. Then he unfastened his grasp around his tail.

The Youko tried to kick and react, wrestling and wiggling strenuously against the grasp, trying to reach at least the parapet; one touch and he could use his you-ki to defend himself. But Kinno's master was too tall. He was almost twice  Hikaru's hight, and on holding him up, there was no way the grey youko could reach anything but air. The Demon just extended his arm over the edge of the bridge, swinging Hikaru in the air by one ankle...

Hikaru looked down. His own hair flowed in the wind over the deep precipice, and he swallowed hard when he stared at the rocky riverbed below. The river was a shallow one, almost like a creek, deep below the canyon.

It was a long descent to the bottom...

He shut his eyes, and his pale hands started to shake, as in panic,  he noticed the rough fingers loosening the grasp around his ankle...

"I'm tired of wasting time on you. Farewell, youko. Enjoy your headlong trip."

"Bastard! You're gonna pay!" Hikaru bellowed, and the echo of his voice started to turn into a long, piercing cry which accompanied his fall, and his long hair left a serpentine trail following his quick, heavy course downwards.

The monstrous, tusked youkai bent over to watch some of the show.

"Filthy animals... They're only good in bed..." The youkai murmured to himself, cleaning the palm of his hand, scrubbing it vigorously on the front of his long, leather coat.

He looked over his shoulder then. City Guards had just appeared. He had timed his attack very precisely.

He uttered a long, but low growl, trying to compose himself. He huffed and rubbed the back of his hand on his mouth to clean himself. He always frothed at the mouth when he was enraged. And that damned striped youko had tried his patience too much. But he had received just what he deserved for daring to steal his property. He'd probably be dead, or terribly crippled after such a fall

He took one look down then.

The youkai expected to see a large spot of blood and pieces of dead youko plastering the rocks below, but there was nothing.

He gave one squinted look to the guards. It was Just a small group of four, which he could easily eliminate with one single blow, but he'd better restrain his activities a bit while in that city.

He looked at the guards, complimenting them when they passed. He'd have to use more socially acceptable methods to regain his stolen property.

He hated it, but somehow it was better than spending more money on tattletales.

"Excuse me, I wonder if you've seen a golden youko in the city..."
 

To be Continued...