Kuronue's voice still echoed in his memory. Kurama still heard his partner's words to him when both demons had finally come to the conclusion what existed between them was much deeper than skin deep.

Yesterday, today, tomorrow. Body and soul...

Unfortunately, there would be no more tomorrows. The youko felt disrupted, disoriented, as if the whole reality had been ripped from under his feet.

He tried to run away, he tried to hide, but the voice kept on following him like a ghost.

Body and soul... Body and soul...

He ran all through that forest, never looking back, feeling an intense pain in his chest, cold and immense. It grew and hardened inside his chest, like a tortunring mass of ice. He felt the venom of guilt and shame spread all through his veins, and fill him with so much bitterness that he felt sick.

Yesterday, today and...

He followed a confused way out of that forest and that region. He climbed rocks and cliffs, and he crossed rivers and creeks. He summoned plants as he passed to cover his tracks and block the trails and crossroads, and stopped here and there for short moments, just to collect some specific leaves or mushrooms...

He needed relief... It was why he used the plants, eating or chewing them, till he could get dizzy and numb enough so as to make the pain less perceptible. Soon his head started to float in a mild stupor, and yet he continued on his way, not really sure where he was going to.

He was so shocked he only realized he was still carrying that cursed mirror when he found the first small village, safely off road, and far away from any persecutors.

By then his clothes were already thorn, his hair entangled, and he was muddy and dirty because of that awkward escape. On reaching that village, he was not sure of how long he had wandered that part of the Makai aimlessly. All in his mind was that he needed to flee... That, and that persistent voice echoing deeper in his frozen heart...

Body and soul...

He left his body, he left his own soul behind when he had ran away. And only this hattering pain remained, torturing him deeply.

Kuronue was his brother, his lover, his pupil... The one and only youkai he had trusted blindly.

Yet Kurama had left him behind in his deadliest hour...

If he could turn back the time... But not even the mightest youkai in the Makai could do it. Not even the Reikai masters could do it. It had passed; it had ended.

He stole a black mantle hanging from a clothesline in a small house's backyard and headed for the first tavern he found. He wrapped himself in that black piece, and all the while kept his head down low, avoiding to stare or talk to anyone.

Kurama sat in a corner, and tried not to think of anything. He did not even utter more than a whisper when he asked for the strongest drink they had. And he swapped from the drink to the plant leaves and seeds he had brought, and then back to the booze.

He wanted to blacken his memories and numb the pain.

He sat there for hours, and drank all he could.

In that first tavern, he left the cursed mirror behind to pay the bill. He left the mirror on the table, wrapped on the table-cloth, and headed for the door, not looking behind for a single moment.

He was so high, so out of his mind, that he was not even sure why he was leaving that object behind. But all he knew is that he did not want to hold and carry that damned curse any longer. Let it follow the next youkai who sat at that corner and found it. Let it pass to someone else... The burden on his shoulders was too high; he did not need a cursed object like that to make it worse.

Moreover, why would he be interested in knowing the future now? Why would he want to know what tomorrow holds?

Yesterday... Today... But Tomorrow was dead - slain in an alien forest, impalled and probably tortured to death by those filthy bastards...

He felt empty. It was as if all of a sudden some God with a sick sense of humor had decided to push him into an endless dark pit. He was still falling... He was falling all the way down, wrapped in a stinging pain, constrained in shackles of agony, and with a huge weight of guilt tied around his ankle, dragging him further down...

And he knew he would never find the edge of that pit and ever see light again.

He had never felt such pain. And for all the Gods and all the Mightiest Demons of the Underworld he would never feel it again...

It was then the pain inside his chest started to become anger. A smothering wrath took over the youko as he crossed more miles of forest, meadow and roads, following the very uncertain map of confusion which veiled his senses.

It seemed he was wandering in circles, but who cared?

And in the next village he found, he headed to the tavern as well, but instead of just drinking, he picked up a deadly fight, and killed four youkai who dared to stare at him.

In the third town he crossed, he summoned a giant Fire Thorn forest that engulfed the whole place in a mass of poisoned thorns and pointed stacks. Kurama did not even care to see how many of the inhabitant youkai were slashed and killed by the growing impalling thorns. He heard cries of pain and agony behind him as he left, but he did not give a damn to them.

In another very small village by a lake, while Kurama was sitting at a corner, drinking heavily and diving into a very dense cloud of hashish smoke, someone tried to establish conversation. It was a very handsome young youkai. He had long black hair and an alluring smile, and approached Kurama asking him if he would like some company for the evening.

Kurama roared and attacked the youkai with his teeth and nails only, like a savage beast. Loud cries were heard, and blood was spilled all over the place. When Kurama left that other tavern, that young demon was nothing more than a slashed, mutillated corpse left on the dusty floor, among puddles of his own blood and pieces of stripped entrails.

The pain... The pain was making Kurama loose his mind...

He killed and rioted wherever he passed in his search for a place where he could drink and drug himself into total oblivion. All he wanted was to get rid of the pain and shun all those persistent memories...

Damn! He would keep on slashing the bodies of every demon he met, and he would rip their souls apart one after the other, till he could get himself some peace!

He needed to forget... The anguish burned in his bosom like nothing before. And it was a different kind of burn. It was not like the heat of passion. It was not mere anger - It burned like frostbite. It was as if a huge glacier was growing deep in the core of his chest, freezing  his soul into an aching hollow.

But he knew that numbing cold was the only, the fastest way of silencing the pain he carried inside. He must turn his body into an unreachable fortress, and his soul into a never-melting block of ice.

A heart of ice wrapped by an armor of poisoned thorns - Such was the image he had chosen to himself. It was the cure he had chosed for his pain. It would be his new Tomorrow - an armored body, and a frozen soul.

To Hell with the Future! To Hell with everything and everyone! Nothing, no one else mattered. It was then he decided he did not want to recall Kuronue any more. He did not want to remember either his name or his face. He must forget his smile, his good mood and his long, smooth black hair. He must forget completely his velvet-like wings, and the sound of his voice and his laughter.

When Kurama finally reached the camp, many days had already passed. The pain had become a glow in his chest. And he had built a wall of oblivion around his memories, binding them into silence with his wrath and determination.

He looked at no one when he crossed the gates into the Camp's ward.

He was still wrapped into the same black mantle he had stolen, which was not a just a filthy rag, and though he did not cover his head with it, the youko kept his face down.

He had imagined none of the youkai under his command would dare to stop him and ask something, but he was wrong. To his surprise, many of them formed a circle around him when he reached the centre of the ward.

Kurama was still dizzy. He had passed the last days drinking so heavily that he skipped what was reality and what was not. He stopped and staggered a little, trying to find a space in between the wall of bodies the youkai formed around him.

He could not find a way to dodge them, and the circle around him was tightened.

Kurama smiled at some of them. But it was a comtemptuous smile, and he looked at them down his nose, with all despise his golden eyes were capable of expressing. He tried to walk past them and was hindered again.

What the hell was going on that pigsty? Just some days away and they had forgotten who was the big bad honcho? He must teach them a lesson; he would, as soon as he got sober again...

"Let me pass, you bastards!" he ordered, with a drunken voice.

They did not give way to Kurama. The youko tried to stand proudly and defy them, but he was still too dizzy and drunk. He staggered, but he still tried to bully the gathering crowd.

The youko could recognize their faces. He looked at each of them, while his confused mind recalled names and ranks. Even Shido, whom he protected after he had lost his officer rank to Yomi was there, joining that irrational mutiny.

Those ungrateful pricks!

"How dare you stand on my way? You filthy sons of bitches! Let me pass!"

It was then Kurama heard a voice above the crowd's commotion, in a blunt, incriminating tone.

"Why did you leave Kuronue behind?"

The youko felt reality hit him, hard and straight like a punch. The shock crossed the dense stupor of drunkenness, and speared right into his chest.

Kurama gnashed his teeth and aimed an enraged scowl at the crowd. How did those bastards know? How dare they remind him of a what he had sought so hard to forget? How could they point their dirty fingers at him?

Then he heard it again, coming from another direction.

"You left your officer behind to run away!"

"We want another leader! We don't trust you anymore!"

"Why didn't you save Kuronue?"

His face changed into a fierce grimace of wrath. Tight, his back and shoulders tensed, and he clenched his fists. He huffed, panted, and his golden eyes sparkled with such a deep hatred, that for a moment Kurama thought he was actually losing his sanity.

"Coward!"

"Traitor!"

"Murderer!"

The youko reached a small leaf of grass from his hair. He transformed it into a long and sharp sword and faced the crowd around him.

He snapped at them, brandishing his grassblade.

"Shut up your dirty mouths! How dare you speak like that, you scum? Shut the fuck up!"

But they did not stop. They closed the circle tighter yet around Kurama, and continued their accusations. Their voices were loud and youko's head throbbed with pain and dizziness. It was then he heard a sentence that startled him. Kurama growled. His tail bristled and his ears prickled up when he heard that name and grasped whose fault was it for that mean reception...

"Yomi was there!"

"You abandoned Kuronue and Yomi saw it happen!"

"Yomi told us you left Kuronue behind and ran away!"

Yomi... He should have suspected it... Kurama's eyes became pools of fury, and he roared deeply, already looking over the youkai who blocked his advance, trying to find that unspeakable scumbag with horns. His face was locked in an expression of intense wrath. He almost started to kill at once that whole band of shitheads, one by one to demand the respect he deserved.

But the tumult ceased when they gave passage to Yomi.

Yomi lowered his eyes when Kurama faced him. The youko stared at the other demon with all the fury and despise he could possibly express. He cursed Yomi in between his gritted teeth, and his fingers clasped the hold of his grassblade tighter. Then he stepped forward, defying the youkai with his anger and pride.

How could he? How could Yomi act like if nothing was happening? The gang had given him way as if he were their leader and were visibly supporting him. The youkai who had joined the band brought by Yomi were backing him, and the rest circled Kurama. Some even showed their unsheathed blades, ready to fence any retaliation from the youko.

Yomi had stolen his lover, and now was trying to steal his gang... But Kurama would not let it happen... He would allow no rebellion, not even if he had to kill everyone in that camp! He was fed up of that despicable voyeur! Kurama needed to breathe in deeper to keep his self-control, or he would jump on Yomi and slash his eyes with his nails...

Yomi addressed the group. He visibly was nervous. His voice trembled, and even adressing the whole crowd, he still would not raise his eyes.

"I already told you about it, guys! Kurama is not guilty. He had a whole army on his heels and had to run away. I only managed to rescued Kuronue because the enemies ran after Kurama!" The roar from the crowd started again, and Yomi just needed to make an appeasing gesture to silence them. "I know you are indignant and sad. Every one here loved Kuronue. He was everyone's friend. But do not blame Kurama! It was Kuronue himself who urged Kurama to run and leave him behind! Kuronue knew he was doomed!"

Kurama roared, in a very low, but threatening way. Yomi acted as if he were the King of all Three Worlds. But it was alright... He could let Yomi act the merciful, the reasonable and righteous youkai... He could allow that pitiful prick those instants of glory, because his doomsday was close... Who did he think he was? The personification of Justice himself?

The youko trembled, and his you-ki pounded heavily in his veins and his chest, aroused by wrath. He had never been so coarsely humiliated like that. That wide-ass idiot was putting him down before his own band!

But Kurama would wait... Revenge was a dish best served cold. He would wait, and let Yomi forget about it... And then...

Kurama watched Yomi walk closer to him, very cautiously, as if afraid of his reaction. And indeed Yomi must fear him. He must be afraid of him; very afraid... His pride had never been so deeply wounded...

Yomi laid his hand on Kurama's shoulder, but he still kept at arm's lenght distance from him.

"Kurama. We must talk." Yomi murmured then. "Everyone is indignant at you because of Kuronue. The whole gang saw me arrive carrying his dead body, and I was forced to tell them what had happened. I am doing my best to prevent a takeover."

Another gesture, and the crowd opened passage to Kurama. The youko realized then Yomi had the whole power in his hand. He controlled that mob like a puppet...

Hn! What did Yomi expect him to do? Thank him for having stolen his gang?

But Kurama allowed Yomi to guide him through the crowd. The horned youkai circled the youko's shoulders with one arm and brought him along.

Kurama was so full of ire he did not noticed very well where Yomi was taking him too. However he still managed to take his emotion under control. The shock served to burn up the renmants of his drunkenness and now he could think much better. He brooded over plans and more plans to get rid of Yomi, and yet his face showed no emotion. Kurama's face was livid and unmoving like a marble statue's - He showed nothing; not even rage.

The two demons stopped at a fresh corner at the base of the cliff. Herbs, shrubs and flowers covered the ground, and a tree shaded the whole area. Climbing plants fell from the tree's crown, forming a natural arbor. That site was conveniently apart from the rest of the camp; it was a quiet and ameable corner, like a natural shrine.

It was then Yomi called the youko's attention to the white gravestone before them.

"I buried Kuronue here."

Kurama looked down at the white mark. He remained motionless and silent. All Yomi could hear was the sound of his deep breathing as he stared at the gravestone.

"I followed you, Kurama. I'm sorry... I know you had ordered me to stay back, but I was very worried about Kuronue. He had been wounded because of my recklessness some weeks ago and I had a bad hunch about it all..."

Kurama fell on his knees and touched the earth, caressing the herbs and grass which had naturally grown there. He must have been away for quite a long time...

For a moment he wished Yomi were lying to him. Kurama still cherished a glowing hope Kuronue could have been taken from that impalling ground still alive, and imprisioned. Maybe he could have escaped... The youko still treasured a faithful hope his friend and lover might still be alive, and that someday they would meet again...

Yomi had bitterly added a sad finale to his last hopes...

Fucker!

"I saw it happen. You were not guilty, Kurama. Kuronue understood that; he never blamed you."

The youko looked up at the other demon. At first his eyes showed a fierce rage which startled Yomi so much he shuddered in terror. But soon Kurama managed to control his expression and hide the ferocity of his wrath.

"When that horde ran after you, I had the chance to rescue Kuronue. I freed him from those stacks and carried him in my arms to look for help. But our friend did not make it. I'm sorry..." Yomi sighed in, painfully. "I know you loved Kuronue. He asked me to tell you it was alright..."

A sudden paleness covered Yomi's face. He chewed his lips and breathed deeper, struggling not to cry. It had been such a sad scene... Kuronue died such a miserable and ugly death... It still brought Yomi nightmares and memories he craved to forget.

"There was nothing you could do, Kurama. The guys are mad at you because they miss Kuronue. But I can control them. I will talk to them again and again, till all this animosity is over. I know they will listen to me."

He looked up at Yomi. His golden eyes narrowed and sparkled with fury.

"Does it mean I am at your mercy?"

Yomi was backed off by the intense fury of those words. The youko was so tense, so full of rage, that Yomi feared for his life. He knew the youko just needed to toss his hair and summon some giant demon plant, and he would be dead in a split second.

"No! Kurama, I am not threatening or coercing you in any way! Please, don't get me wrong!"

The youko took in a deep, forceful respiration. He clenched his fists firmly around handfuls of grass, which he smashed in his fingers, very slowly.  Then he caressed the soil. He knew... Somehow he knew it was the truth - His lover's body was down there, buried in that soil...

Kurama promised to himself he would bury his feelings deep down that same hole. And he murmured a wicked vow to himself. Yomi would soon be just a corpse too. Then he and Kuronue could stick up together forever in the deepest and darkest pits of Hell!

The youko looked down at the gravestone again. He lowered his head, and remained very quiet, very still for a long moment. He noticed Yomi crouch by his side. Not very close to him, but enough for his murmured words to be heard.

"I love you, Kurama. I would never try to dragoon you into anything. I want to protect you, I want to help you. I know you are suffering a lot. Please, I just ask you to allow me to soothe you..."

Kurama's long hands trembled. His outrage increased at every passing instant...

Yomi fumbled in the pockets of his coat for something that he showed to Kurama.

"I let Kuronue keep his pendant. But this is for you."

Kurama had to use all his willpower not to cry when he saw the stuff Yomi held in his hand. The brass buckle of Kuronue's hat, and the straps he used to wear around his arms. The black fabric was tainted with spots of dry blood.

The youko seized the objects avidly, and pressed them against his chest. He huddled, and his hair fell along his face, concealing his grimace of pain.

"Kuronue asked me to tell you the mirror worked and that you should take care." Yomi smiled, and stroked the youko's back, trying to be sweet to him. But he still trembled. Stroking Kurama in such critical moment was like stroking a famished and wounded beast that could attack him at any moment... "In the end he was worried about you. He rested only when I told him you had managed to escape. He wanted you to live on. Please, don't you blame yourself..."

The youko caressed those objects, rubbed the straps against his chest, smelled and kissed the dirty fabric. Then he carefully stuck the buckle in the folds of his belt. He hid the tears holding those black straps against his face.

There was no doubt then. Kuronue was dead. The body he had loved so many times lay in that cold soil, devoid of its warmth, emptied of its soul...

The youko blinked his eyes to dry his tears and sniffled the renmants of his cry. Then he got on his feet, very slowly, with his usual feline grace, and stared at Yomi.

The horned youkai kept his knee bent before Kurama, to show him his submission and respect. He even lowered his head.

Kurama realized then he was still holding his grassblade. A soft but very perverse smile crossed his lips when he imagined how easily he could behead that size-queen...

But it would be so easy, so fast, so painless, that he would not get any gratification.

He could wait. The youko decided he would watch the downfall of that horned idiot calmly, and thus enjoy every little instant of it. He knew Yomi was an incompetent - He just needed to give him the leadership, and that bastard would dig his own grave...

Then he would add one special touch - One special and deadly touch, and Yomi would be terminated...

Meanwhile, he could pass the time wiping out the rest of that gang of jackasses - He could not trust a band that had attempted to bully him.

"I'm going to my den. I don't wanna be bothered."

Yomi acquiesced vigorously.

"Kurama, you look terrible... I'm gonna order food and tea to be served... I..."

The youko cut Yomi brusquely.

"Now you are second in command." Kurama added dryly. "I give you carte blanche. You will have no problems commanding these guys. I can see the whole crew has got blind faith in you."

Yomi did not grasp the subtle irony of Kurama's words. If he had payed attention to the slight sneer that curved the youko's lips, he would have realized in fact he was being accused of treason, not praised.

"Sure, Kurama. Do not worry about your safety. I will keep everyone cool and collected. And I will be in charge of your safety personally, till the whole situation settles down."

Kurama stared comtemptuously at Yomi, but he did not retort. His wrath and disdain were so high that it was harder and harder to control his temper.

Yomi stood up. But he still kept his eyes low, in a mild and submissive gesture. He noticed Kurama was about to leave his presence, and could not avoid the question which made his demon heart pound with fear and anticipation.

Yomi looked up at Kurama coyly. He trembled with fear of what might be the youko's answer.

"Kurama. I miss your company... Can I stay there? With you?"

The youko faced Yomi and smiled. It was an exultant but wicked smile. He pressed the bloodstained straps against his breast, and the bittersweet taste of revenge filled his mouth and instilled his words to Yomi.

"No, Yomi. The only reason why I accepted you in my bed now lies under this cold earth. You are my second in command; only this and nothing more."

Kurama turned his back to Yomi and left. And the youko never cried again. Neither for Kuronue, nor for himself.
 

To be Continued...