Yu Yu Hakusho Fan Fiction ❯ Laurel ❯ Laurel ( Chapter 1 )

Laurel

by Viridian Magpie

Disclaimer: I don't own YYH.

 

 

          &n bsp;             ;            &n bsp;    …videt igne, micantes

sideribus similes oculos, videt socula, quae non

est vidisse satis, …

 

It's his face that captures Karasu and will not let his mind rest nor his body until he has made him his. There's such beauty in it as has never been beheld by any lover's eyes. His are drawn again and again to that perfect skin, to these long lashes, which shade eyes of purest green that shine like fiery stars and sparkle and glare in stubborn defiance. A defiance that is often put into words by full, soft lips, whose shape when speaking turns pouting at times and teases him with promise until he can not bear to simply look anymore. He must touch, must hold, make his own and possess till they release the last breath.

 

 et levis inpulsos retro dabat aura capillos,

 auctaque forma fuga est…

 

So, he runs and chases and calls, not that the fox will stop to listen for Karasu is a hound, hot on his heels, who will yet get to sink his teeth into that lovely form, which has on, and because of, this flight become even more ravishing than before. The chest is heaving, he can see it clearly since brambles have torn the clothing and it flutters in the wind. It's loose just like Kurama's hair, which is almost, almost in his grasp. Just a bit closer. The fox must have noticed the proximity, has perhaps felt the intent, for he puts on another burst of speed. His last because he must be spent and exhausted. Karasu is and he has the advantage of full use of his youki and body. Kurama, on the other hand, is injured quite severely, but desperation and adrenaline will lend you strength for a while. It's  a part of what makes these games so interesting.

 

“Qua nimium placui, mutando perde figuram!”

vix prece finita torpor gravis occupat artus:

 

Kurama has paused in a clearing - for one last act of defiance, Karasu is sure and has not expected anything less; he chose well - and is catching his breath now, which he allows - the fox will scream louder that way. Now, he lifts a hand, wipes sweat and dirt from his face, bathing it in the blood from the wound on his arm.

Then he smiles, a slightly crazed look on his expression.

It is simply breathtaking and makes Karasu giddy with anticipation. Too giddy to wait any longer, so he takes a step closer, about to speak and revel in his victory - it is only a matter of time, after all - and they always become so excited, when he describes what he will do to them next and what he will do once they are no longer aware of anything in the world - which is a pity since that is one of the best parts, even though the blood does stop running soon and the whimpers and twitches always please him so. And yet, the stillness of their features and limbs as he pounds into them, that magnificent quiet when he draws pictures with their blood, the (dare he say it?) stoicism, with which they take everything he deals out! This is what draws him to Kurama, who can be so perfectly still even though he's alive, still. Oh, all of this Karasu loves, because it is that which has been intended by nature - why else are they all mortal and able to die? The design is ingenious and around Karasu everyone is just too blind to see.

A cracking sound brings him back to the present and the little piece of wisdom he wants to impart - perhaps the fox will understand; he is quite close to perfection?

 

mollia cinguntur tenui praecordia libro,

in frondem crines, in ramos bracchia crescunt;

 

Something is wrong. Kurama has ceased all movement, does not even blink anymore. And soon Karasu sees why, for before his very eyes perfection turns into a mockery of itself. Limbs change and become (live!) branches, blood turns into resin, hair into rustling (living) leaves.

And a last whisper from a mouth all but grown over with bark is carried on the wind. “Try it now.”

The voice sounds satisfied.

 

 

Resources: the quotes are from Ovid's metamorphoses, the chapter on Apollo and Daphne. They are more or less "translated" in the chapter. As for the plot: I stole shamelessly (from Ovid).