Yu Yu Hakusho Fan Fiction ❯ Dark Thoughts ❯ Chapter 2 ( Chapter 2 )

The next day, he is stopped from attending the match. I know because I am following him. I do not care about the rest of the team. He is the only one that matters to me. He is with the Jaganshi, who looks to be in pain. The Jaganshi smells of pain, and yet, he stands and fights. He could be interesting, he could possibly hold my interest, were it not for Kurama. I watch as he fights. His body moves so gracefully, dancing with his whip. Oh, the things he could do with that whip. I feel my blood stirring in a way it has not for a long time. I continue to watch as some artificial creature attacks, supposedly indestructible. He continues to move, causing the creature to destroy its own covering, allowing him to use his whip within and destroy it. His next words make me want to rush out and take him, but I must wait. He said, “You are wrong on two counts. Even the hardest substance can be broken when crashed into itself. And the ability to feel pain is not a weakness. It is a strength. Pain tells a creature its vulnerabilities and not to expose them to attack. Your robot is dead, and so, I'm afraid, are you.” His voice held no sympathy, no softness, no regret. He understands! How I look forward to our match!

 

He returns to the ring, to the tournament, as his teammates are finishing with Dr. Ichigaki's team. Because the match has already begun, he cannot join. He offers what support he can to his teammates. His face is remarkably expressive. What will it look like at the moment of death? I wonder.

 

The masked one defeats the team and the four remaining advance on the doctor. Kurama and the Jaganshi have uncovered his plots and reveal them to everyone, returning the puppets' master to them. Such sap. Who needs it? Were it not for the anger radiating toward the doctor from every member of the team, the pure blood lust, I would leave. I want to see what Kurama will do. The coward injects something into his hand and changes forms. Yusuke insists on fighting him alone. Yusuke will not be mine. I do not care what he does. I move to leave.

 

The powers in charge of the tournament declare that his team will continue with their next round immediately upon completion of the fight with Dr. Ichigaki's team. This attracts my attention again. The Jaganshi and the masked on are contained in a periphery field, supposedly too injured to continue fighting today, though they leave out the rei ken weilder out. There is no logic to this examination, this trap. No matter. He is free. He will fight first. I could almost shiver in anticipation at watching him again. Almost, but such a reaction is too much. I content myself to watch as he takes on the first of the shinobi, a painted one, Gama.

 

He is careless! He allows that Gama creature to touch him. Doesn't he understand only I can touch him, only I can bind him? He cannot move his arms and legs, bound by the paint of Gama. He cannot summon his beautiful plants. But there, from his hair, his whip lashes out. Ah, he causes Gama to bleed. He is beautiful with blood on him. How I wish it were his blood and I were spreading it over his body. But, he is still being careless. Gama dies, but he is bound. He cannot move and must face the next shinobi. What will he do? Will my intimacy be taken from me?

 

Touya, the ice master. My red-head's youki is bottled within his body, I cannot feel it, as he talks to the ice shinobi. I am too far away to hear their conversation, but it seems that he is stalling until the blood curse wears off, the Nembaku fuju no sho. I wonder, how long after death does blood hold its power? The useless referee and the ice demon catch on to his tactics, they are blatant, after all, and the fight begins. Even barely able to move, he dodges the Mateki sandansha well. But, there, he is bleeding! Does this Touya not know that only I can make him bleed? How dare he?

 

What is this? Kurama is paining himself in blood. What is he doing? Oh, he looks so delectable covered in the warm redness of his blood. How I long to cover him in his blood, for him to cover me in his blood, for us to share the deepest of intimacies. He pulls his rose from his hair and attempts to summon his graceful whip, but it does not appear. His expression is one of pain. How it must hurt to have one's youki contained. But, he does not stop, he does not give up. He continues. This is what draws me to keep watching. Touya seems surprised to see him still standing. I am glad, it means he is worthy of me. The ice master creates a blade and gracelessly attacks my red-head. What is this? His arm is cut? How dare he let anyone else cause him to bleed so much! Doesn't he know he belongs to me? His blood is mine! And he is smiling? How dare he share it with others! I am angry at him. I am about to leave in disgust when Touya moves to attack, a viciously direct thrust. But, he is stopped. A smile graces my lips as I see the Shimaneki Sou blooming from the wound in his arm. So, that was his plan. He does look beautiful with the plants blooming from his body. He is cunning. This pleases me.

 

He stops moving, his head falling to his chest, his blood colored hair cascading over his face. He is beautiful. But, he is also unconscious, in no condition to fight. I frown as the next one, an arrogant fool, Bakken steps into the ring. I can see Yusuke arguing, but there is an announcement. Bakken will fight Kurama in the next round. My frown deepens. How is this a true test of who is stronger? My eyes narrow as Bakken ruthlessly attacks my Kurama. He does not understand the subtlety of intimacy. He is crude. He is not worthy of Kurama, but Kurama remains unconscious. Disgusted by this turn of events, I leave where I have been watching, hidden in the shadows.

 

That night, I hear from Toguro Otouto that Yusuke defeated Bakken and the Jin. Team Urameshi will continue to the next round. I refrain from smiling. I still have a chance for my intimacy.

 

Again, I dream. My thoughts are centered on the blood colored hair, the whip, the graceful body. How I long to share with him the deepest of intimacies. I can feel his whip tear my flesh as I manipulate bombs to destroy his, avoiding his hair and face. They are beautiful, full of spirit I do not wish to destroy, but revel in as we again share the deepest of connections. The more I see, the more I want. I have such high expectations for our fight. I wonder briefly if I will be disappointed.