He shifted in bed, rolling over to lie on his side, huddling sorrowfully around the three objects. The cucumber Kinno had given his in the first day they met, which he knew he would need to throw away soon. A small pink glassy bead he had disentangled from his tresses as a souvenir. And a long, soft silk ribbon Kinno had given him as a token of love when they last met in the park...

The prince made his fingers clasp the ribbon tightly. Then he brought it to his face, letting it rub his cheeks and his nose. The delightful perfume of that pretty, brilliant being was still impregnated on the cloth.

Shura kissed the ribbon, caressing his lips with its softness.

In the beginning he imagined he could take the golden youko's absence, but his assumptions were proven wrong. He imagined he would be able to forget all about Kinno; his smell, his image, the sensation of his tender hands, his delicate voice... But as days passed the need he had for Kinno increased, like a malignant disease.

Chills, fever, sweat, lightheadedness, loss of appetite... He had been suffering from it all. He had refused to leave his private chambers for days now. He had attended no training sessions, no classes, and no meetings.

He just wanted to lie down in the bed and leave the world outside, totally detached from anything but his own sadness.

What tortured him the most was the silence he was obliged to keep. He had not said a word about his suffering to anyone, mainly to his father. It was a real torture to be left without any comfort, alone, but...

He must tolerate the pain. He ought to be brave and bear with the extreme sensation of impotence and abandonment. A king should learn that the road to power must be walked alone. Wasn't that what his father once told him? Or did he read it somewhere?

He did not care. He had always accepted the fact he should only care about his duties and obligations, and try his utmost to be the best and more powerful ruler who had ever existed in the Makai.

But...

That youko had touched something inside him he truly didn't know existed. And now, he just could not appease the turmoil inside him.

He would not cry. But he knew he could. He felt betrayed and hopeless enough to shed tears, but he refused to let himself do so. He held much of his emotions back, afraid of what might happen if he finally subdued to sorrow completely and let his resistance down.

He could not talk to his father. Yomi had warned him... Yomi had told him that might happen, because youko were randy, unfaithful and morally dubious and untrusting.

Why had he not listened to his papa? He was always too hasty and boisterous. If he had been disciplined and obedient enough to do what his father had told him and avoided further contact with Kinno then...

Oh, then he'd be suffering equally. He knew his feeling for that youko appeared at the first time their eyes locked, strong and undeniable, like a chemical reaction.

It had been a total passionate fusion, which exploded inside him, filling him with a whole new feeling. He had felt so well as he cherished that new warmth which grew inside him. It grew, but then it was so easy to be shattered and frozen into despair.

Shura shifted in bed, turning to lie on his other side, sinking his horned head against a pile of pillows. He noticed the you-ki, and hurriedly stuck the ribbon and the bead into the pockets of his tunic. He hid the cucumber under the pillows then, and lay tight and tense, very aware his father was closing by down the corridor.

The King made things so difficult for him sometimes... His high expectations... His bitterness, his refusal to talk about himself...  His father was like a shut door to him, and yet, he loved him.

He wanted to be all he expected him to be, but how?

Shura was starting to feel he was not worth the trust, and that in fact he must be weaker than his father could imagine. If he had just been strong and determined, if he really possessed the stuff Kings were made of a mere youko would never cause him so much pain and suffering.

Maybe it would be better if Yomi had another clone of himself engineered. A model which could be assembled without any feelings...

Shura took a long and slow breath in. He did not move a muscle, not even when he heard the door being swished open. Immediately the room was packed, filled with the intense presence of his father. His you-ki was like a cold sun, filling the whole space.

But Shura remained very quiet. It felt a bit as if the intense sorrow was numbing his every sense.

His father walked to the bed. Shura could tell his movements very well. He had an undeniable link with Yomi. Moreover, it was difficult not to notice such intense power.

The King sat down by the edge of the bed. Shura noticed one knee grazing his back as he huddled to the other side. Then, he sensed a large, but extremely tender hand cup his shoulder.

"Son. Are you feeling better today?"

Shura did not reply immediately. He sighed in, and pulled himself a bit to the side, enough to evade the hand his father had placed on his shoulder. The ruler of Gandara had called the best physicians, healers, and even called  a bunch of young girls dressed like nurses to try to cheer him up. The Bio-Engineer who had been in charge of his creation had been called, and yet, nothing had put an end to his pain and discomfort.

"No."

"You've been here for days. It's time to stop acting in such a childish way, Shura."

"I'm not a child, papa."

"I did not say you were a child. I said you were acting like one."

Yomi's comment caused no reaction from Shura. The boy still kept his back to his father, refusing to move or say anything.

"It is the youko, is it not?"

Shura shuddered. He mumbled something as he pressed his face against the pillow. He felt like admitting it, opening his heart to his father, but was afraid not to be brave enough for that.

"What happened? You must tell it to me, son... Tell me who is the youko that stole your sanity, and I'll have him killed for the pain he has caused you!"

Shura turned around them, in a nervous movement. He half sat in bed, and looked deeply into his father's shut eyes. Then he clasped one anxious hand around his arm, pleadingly.

"No, papa! Please, don't do it!"

Yomi's lips showed a faint smile. A victorious one, as now he had the proof he wanted. That not only had his son disobeyed his orders and met the youko again, but that he had been deeply affected by the foxy charm of those devilish beings.

"Tell me what happened between you two, and I might consider letting him live."

Shura held himself still. He cast his eyes down, and fidgeted in bed with discomfort before the firm insistence of his father. For many days Yomi had allowed him to be in the dark recess of his own chambers, not interfering in his attitude. It seemed, however, he had reached the peak of his father's tolerance.

It was fair that Yomi demanded the truth. But Shura was very afraid of revealing it to his King and progenitor. His father would feel too disappointed about his weakness.

"I love him."

Yomi grew paler yet than he naturally was. He felt so outraged by the revelation that his breathing was suspended for a long while. The line of his shoulders and back became very tight. His hands tightened in nervous clenched fists on his lap.

"It cannot be... How could you, my son?" Yomi burst out, bitterly.

Shura hesitated just a little. But then he sat up, very erect now. He might have failed his father, but he was honor bound to admit his guilt.

"His name is Kinno. I love him, my father; I love him deeply. It is a feeling I had never known before, and I cannot fight it."

Yomi stood up. He walked from one corner to the other of the wide sleeping room, very slowly, with dry, thoughtful steps. Nothing could be heard but the sound of his feet against the metallic floor.

"I am sorry, papa. I disobeyed your orders. I know you will never forgive me for it, but I could not resist Kinno. He is too gorgeous, and he has such a candid smile, and such a tender heart that..."

"Where did this youko come from?" Yomi interrupted his son then, with his grave and deep voice.

"I don't know. He never told me."

"Where did you meet?"

"Here, in Gandara. He was on the street, selling c-cum... ah..." Shura stuttered a bit, unsure about what he could tell his father. But then Yomi did not care at all. He cut Shura again, directing a very angry expression at him.

"What did this youko do to you?" Yomi demanded, with a stern expression. His tall, broad presence became tense, even threatening as Shura blushed and shook his head slightly, refusing to believe Yomi would ask him such thing.

"Papa, no... Please, I can't tell you..."

Yomi walked closer to the bed again, standing before Shura with a fierce disposition, as he demanded an answer once more.

"Do not believe youko, son!" Yomi insisted, totally outraged. "Youko steal everything from the ones they seduce! They steal your shame, honor, sense and leave nothing but emptiness and despair."

"But he said he was a good youko..."

Yomi was shocked. He bent over to hold Shura by his shoulders while he spoke, very clear and grave words, willing to shove some sense into his son's mind.

"The only good youko is a dead one! If he has not cheated or disappointed you till now, he will very soon; beware!"

Shura could feel his face burn with the intense embarrassment. His father had been right all the time - He had already been cheated; and abandoned, given no explanation... The horned young youkai murmured something, but it was too low. Yomi continued to direct a very severe stare at him, and Shura made an effort to say it again, more clearly.

"He left me. He left Gandara."

Yomi gave an audible, very relieved sigh out.

"I told you. This youko played with you all the time!"

Shura could not even raise his eyes and look at Yomi. His hands trembled, and his chest grew tight with the intense shame he felt. Yes... He had not been loyal to his father.
 
"I need my son back. Not this feeble, pathetic broken hearted thing you've become. I want a noble and proud prince by my side, not a miserable beggar of  some youko's affections."

Harsh words. His father had been hard on him, but Shura knew deep inside Yomi was not wrong. He had betrayed his father's trust, and he had betrayed the whole Kingdom as he neglected his responsibilities to sulk and sink into despair for days.

The prince looked up at his father's face, and a sudden sweetness grew inside him as he paid attention to those closed blind eyes, with which Yomi had been inflicted in battle. His father had been brave all the while. The suffering and difficulty had made him stronger. Yomi was such a great inspiration.  Shura really wanted to be like his father.

Shura was deeply convinced Yomi would never allow himself to be fooled and used so miserably. His father was strong. He had been strong enough to fight blindness and overcome defeat with determination enough to make him the most powerful demon of the Makai.

Shura must follow his father's example.

"Forgive me for not listening to your advice, papa. I have indeed acted like a fool."

A very slight smile altered the austere lines of Yomi's face. The King really felt relieved, as if the weight of all Three worlds had been taken from his shoulders.

"I understand it, son. One needs a very strong will to fight a youko's lure," Yomi started, very softly now, as most of the anger and preoccupation had been vanished away. "You are too young. You are yet inexperienced. It is  the youko I blame for your downfall, not you, Shura.

Yomi turned his face down then for a while. He clenched his fists along his body, and for a little while a dark sorrowfulness seemed to veil his paleness. He only relaxed when Shura left the bed, standing before him with open arms.

King and Clone, Father and son cuddled one another then, very tightly. Yomi stroked his son's back, surprised to see how much he had grown. One more year and he'd be an adult; an almost perfect copy of himself.

Shura leaned his head against his father's chest, with an intimacy that the Kingdom's affairs, the rigour of etiquette and  formality very rarely allowed them.

"I'll be stronger. I swear to you I won't fail you again."

Yomi chuckled as he nuzzled his son's head. It a gesture embedded in bitterness, not contentment.

"Son, it is very hard to resist a youko. I understand what you have been through far more than you might think..." The King added then, in a dolorous whisper.
 
"What do you mean, father?"

Yomi did not answer. He offered his son a dubious smile.

"I think it's time to tell you why your father despises youko so much." Yomi made a long pause then, very aware Shura's pink eyes were locked on him, with both curiosity and expectation. "But not here. It's not appropriate."

"Appropriate? What is it? Is it so grievous?"

Yomi nodded, very quietly. The youkai parted the embrace then.

"Let us camp in the Forests once again, like we did after the Tournament? There we can be mere father and son, like friends, and not King and Heir. We'll be able to talk, train and be together for a long while." Yomi circled his son's shoulders with one arm then. "It will help you forget this young love you feel."

"Papa! Yes, I will most certainly enjoy it!" Shura exclaimed, as the proposal seemed to comfort his pain a bit.

The smile in Yomi's lips widened as he noticed Shura's enthusiasm. He knew his son would be thrilled about the invitation. And yet, to say the truth, he really needed to spend more time with his successor. Away from the Kingdom they would have the chance to be just a small and peculiar family instead of a political alliance...

"Shall we pack up then? Let us leave today, as soon as we finish the preparations."
 
 

To be Continued...