#muse fox

 he had been a vicious creature, a cold one. and he still was - he was still a fox that preferred to play with his food before devouring it, a practice that was evident during the early years of when he had run with the spirit world’s detective. 

 the kindness of shuichi had always hid his cold savagery, and for a while he thought he had it hidden. but hiei had known. he had always known, since the day they met when his human prison was only fourteen. hiei had seen through the act, the soft spoken but calculating boy that had faced off against him without fear, the boy that had dragged him home and healed his wounds without a second thought, it had all been a farce.

 hiei had had him pinned from the beginning and for that, he’s immensely grateful. because for all the imiko’s own savagery, he had a strict honor code and over the time of their friendship, that code had left impressions on kurama, leaving him a far better creature than he had been before.

 he couldn’t - wouldn’t give hiei all the credit, his pride was still much too big for that, but he was willing to give him enough for it. 

 so because of that, because of that sense of respect and responsibility, and small sense of feeling indebted to him, kurama knows he has to be honest, or at least somewhat honest to him. because for all the teasing, the baiting, the jokes, he genuinely respected and cared for the younger youkai, and as much as he enjoyed the reactions of the other, he knew he could do better, that hiei deserved better.

 so, he sets no plan for once, he waits a gentle patience for him to return to the human world and his apartment. the near chaotic workload he balances - human and youkai - keeps him busy enough, that kurama can almost pretend he’s not counting the days. ( but he is. )

 the slow slide of the balcony door opening is a welcomed sound in the quiet of the apartment, and kurama does not perk his head up at the sound. instead, he carries on with pouring tea with calculated patience, waiting for the other to appear in the doorway. 

 kurama considers himself to be a patient man. he knows he’s not a kind one, or a very forgiving one, but he figures he at least has his patience. it’s how he’s survived so long virtually unaffected by anyone that opposed him, how - once upon a time - he’d managed to become the greatest thief in the makai. time was infinite for a creature like him, once of spirit and now of flesh and bone and youki, and he knew that given enough time passing, most opponents would make a mistake.

 so he waits, waits two whole days for the guise to slip, for him to show his true colors in one of the preliminary matches. only, it never happens, because he’s not fighting.

 what does happen is kurama’s own infinite patience turning finite not minutes after his win in the preliminary round. his temper, normally as well-tamed as it can be, snaps, and the minute the match is called, he’s storming through the arena’s stands. his temper is bad enough, or maybe his expression, that not even hiei stands in his way, the imiko stepping aside and letting him pass with no argument or even a look of disappointment.

 finding him in the stands is easy, the scent is burned in his nose, and he could be blindfolded and yet still find it’s source, even among all the youkai and blood in the air. but standing there and waiting until he’s noticed, that’s the hard part.

 it’s hard to remain calm and not make a scene when there’s another person wearing the skin of his dead partner. it’s hard to remain calm when yet another person seeks to manipulate his weaknesses. 

 he’s growing tired of this, no, he’s beyond tired of this.

 arms crossed over his chest, kurama considers the other youkai as he approaches, mouth set in a line. he’s familiar, the smell, the walk, the neatly folded wings, the wide smile and sharp fangs. if kurama didn’t know better, he would think that this was him, his partner, back after so long.

 but he knows better. he’d seen the bamboo spears fall, had smelt the blood. 

 kuronue was dead.

 and this, this was another bastard imposter.

 kurama is a complicated creature. 

 originally born as a spirit fox, a basic but mischievous creature of the spirit world, he spent centuries gathering enough power and magic to gain a more physical form, becoming a basic apparition, and then a demon during this time. the trickster behavior typical of kitsunes never quite left youko kurama, as even as he grew stronger and tended to become more selfish and dangerous in nature, he was still light hearted to friends, and known to be quite the dry-toned jokester when time called for it.

 known as a bit of a changeling, a not-real demon to some demons, however, caused him to become more ruthless in nature. like hiei, his code of honor is complex, but not enough to permit him to be kind to those he viewed as lower in the caste (unlike hiei). he fought too long, far too hard, to get the point where he was, and he wasn’t allowed to let other demons call him weak or a simple spirit ever again.

 his unsympathetic and perfected persona of danger incarnate was enough for, after time, demons to start - quite literally in some causes - fall over themselves at chances to become a part of his crew, because to be apart of his crew meant spoils forever, and a reputation that was envied even in the demon world.

 youko ruled his bandit crew with an iron fist. there were rules even among thieves, and to cross them was to face certain death, this much is evident by yomi’s fate. youko’s own lieutenant’s failure to learn how to balance impulsive nature with precise and measured thoughts/plans led to the death of more than a few of the kitsune’s people, which then lead to an assassination attempt that left the other demon blind and permanently retired from youko’s crew.

 but to say he was heartless is a cold untruth. youko’s closest partner in crime, his final partner in crime, was a chimera demon named kuronue. if demons have hearts, if demons have souls, then kuronue owned youko’s. and kuronue’s death broke youko in a way that he never quite recovered from, with every theft afterwards being sloppy. his death, in a way, led to the almost demise of youko himself, and it was only because of pure instinct that the kitsune was able to find a way into the human world and therefore a second life. 

 years later, even bound in a fleshy human form, kurama is probably the most ruthless creature in existence, at least in the human world. any kindness he extends to strangers is meant to disarm, and only those that know him (the spirit detective team and their kin) are exempt from this behavior. with the team, his politeness is carefully balanced with unmerciful behavior and cunning humor, and though his friendship and loyalty are second to none, he will not hold back if facing one of his friends, either in battle or sparring.

@lumitrs asked:

(▰˘◡˘▰) for /them/

 kurama is a patient creature, after all not all seeds respond to force growth. some things take time, and those that did not, well some things are meant to be reaped later. seeds of thought, he’s found, are meant to be sown and waited upon. like fine wines, those sorts of things took time, but the benefits often outweighed even those of the most carefully of laid baits, so he didn’t mind. he was, after all, a youkai. time meant nothing to him.

 so, he waits. 

 it doesn’t take nearly as long as he thought it should.

 the funny thing, or at least funny to him, was that for a demon that had such a track record as he did - a long history of partners falling victim to traps, of members of his crews mysteriously falling ill or being crippled, of people around him mysteriously disappearing - wherever he went, he gathered the attentions of lesser demons, creatures that followed him like pups. his reputation of ill-fate falling to his partners and team members seemingly did not deter the single minded creatures he came across from trying to bribe their way into his good graces.

 those kinds of bribes, of promises of good loot and unique treasures, always fall on deaf ears, and anyone that promises them are usually dismissed to a quick death and meeting with their maker.

 he, after all, has been around a long time, longer than most, and he knew all the treasures in the makai. he didn’t need children to show him their lesser delights.

 but when he catches wind of one of the reikai in the land of demons, he takes a rare nip at the bait, allows a lesser creature to possess a few coins in exchange for information. ( the coins were back in his pocket the minute the creature had told him the required information. never trust a thief was a lesson he was still trying to teach those he came across. ) 

 the information is well worth the dealing with the demon - and re-thief of coin - he realizes that soon as his eyes land on her. small and bound in a kimono of pink. blue hair pulled back by a strand of red ribbon. eyes the same shade of the petals on the okunenju tree he’d only started to become fond of recently. 

 a reaper of the reikai. the smirk he wears now is too much teeth, canines frighteningly sharp.

 “you,” his voice is a deep rumble of a thing, more a growl than anything else. “seem to be very lost, little ferry-girl and on the borders of my territory, no less. is this a present or a lost child?”