These Dreams

By Red Kitsune Flames

It is night time, and everything is silent. A river flows south around the base of a hill, its water reflecting the charcoal gray of the sky. No creature makes a peep; no passing breezes caressed the golden leaves that are abundant here. Every stray bit of wind seems determined to avoid this place tonight.

Cold gray clouds paint the purple night sky, casting the wood into shadow. Tonight is not a night of stars. Trees are sparse on the hillside, though fallen leaves are many. They thicken at the crest of the hill, as if huddling together to gaze at the surrounding land.

No flowers ever bloom naturally in this forest, only the small red ferns spread among the trees. There is a presence here, as ancient as time itself. Not even the most cunning of creatures would approach on a night such as this.

To some, this place is known as a safe haven for the small critters that flee the oppression of invaders. To others, it is a deceptive front meant to hide a deeper power. And to a rare few, it is acknowledged as a peaceful place of privacy.

Shadows shift, and a cloud passes on. Dim lavender light strikes the river, and many leaves reflect the light, burning through the gray. Soon, something stirs, drawn in by the ray of light.

Faint footsteps echo through the silence, leaves are crushed underfoot. Here is something living, something not afraid. The creature moves leisurely, cautiously making its way in the dark.

Out from behind a chestnut colored trunk, a paw emerges. Like the river, it is struck by lavender light and shines silver. Next emerges a long nose, delicate, poised, and alert. It takes another step forward, carefully lowering its paw onto the damp earth.

Here is the spirit of the forest. Serenely, it stalks up to the riverbank. Long silver tails spread elegantly out behind it lower, remaining just above the ground. It's nose twitches, raised, testing the air.

Slowly, it lowers its head to the river, ears raised, ready to bolt at the first rustle among the plants. Delicately, it meets the surface of the water, and the water ripples, lavender rings pulsing outward.

Suddenly, a foreign presence steps into the confines of the forest. The silver creature pulls back from the river and runs. All the time aware of it's prey, the invader moves and stalks it intently.

The vain golden trees acquire a threatening edge, watching every move of the stranger cutting deeper into the forest. It stops, apparently waiting for something. It need not wait long, for the silver creature leaps out before it.

Burning golden eyes study the newcomer. It is tall, with skin the color of a faded oak. A heavy knot of hair cascades out behind its head. The hair is dark, the color of obsidian, and a deeper black than that of tonight's clouds. Its small scarlet irises wait unblinkingly for his next action.

From behind it, the wings of a bat stretch out to either side. They are dark gray, and one is slightly crooked. The tip of a fang protrudes on the left over its bottom lip. The robust smell lingering against skin marks it as a male.

Around his neck hangs a red pendant, drawing the gaze of golden orbs. The silver creature, the kitsune, feels the onset of his instincts to possess. It studies the pendant, a perfect fit around the chimera's neck.

The pendant is beautiful, but the kitsune feels that it belongs in the spot where it hangs. Instead, a desire overtakes him. This creature before him was in his self a treasure.

Turning its back on the stranger; the kitsune takes a few steps into the canopy of trees. Then it stops, tilting its head back and waiting for the other to follow. Upon seeing this, a small smile touched the chimera's lips.

He follows, and they move into the forest….

…quickly, there is no time to spare. Their lean forms never once move from the other's range of sight.

All around them, small explosions fly through the air. Red smoke fades after lingering in the air for a few seconds. They travel swiftly, unhindered by the threat. Something splendid, something magnificent, is happening here.

Puddles of magma are spread across the rock. Red bubbles of fire ascend from the fiery liquid. There is a rumbling deep in the earth, but it does not surprise him.

He reaches a hand to touch the convulsing flower nestled in his silver hair. A shiver runs through his tail as he manages to just avoid contact with the sizzling magma. Four tiny petals bite into his finger, and then retreat in shame as he hisses.

His bare feet grip the surface of rock and propel him onward again. There is no place for fear in his heart; it is too full with another.

His companion continues ahead of him merrily, sharing in his feelings of elation. Silver ears flatten at the thought of the pursuer they flee from.

Sensing his indignation, the chimera sinks down onto an outcropping and turns to watch him approach. The high spirit follows his lead.

When his feet are an inch from landing, he is pulled against the dark figure he cherishes. Warmth consumes him when the other captures his lips.

They press together, closing all space between them. A finger traces along the markings on his pale neck, the sign if his captivity. The spirit minded not; being a captive in this body brought him closer to his treasure.

Then they press on…

…delightedly, springing through the endless bamboo. Rich voices ring out joyfully, their laughter coming from a place deep within them.

Wind whips at them kindly, stimulating their heartbeats. Under his arm, the bandit king holds a sheet of reflective glass, encased in green.

Hearts pound, and pulses race. Here was their freedom, the ecstasy all creatures should experience! After fleeing for so long, they were finally free to do as they pleased. Inherent knowledge guides their path.

Once again, they are being pursued, but this is more immediate. A mere trinket, of little actual value, their pursuers shall realize soon enough. This is a different kind of battle, a contest of cunning. On this, one should never challenge a kitsune.

He hears them close in and moves faster, his golden eyes glittering in delight. Sensitive ears alert him to a snap, the chain breaking.

He can anticipate his partner's actions. He warns against it, a tiny seed of worry taking root. The chimera insists, and turns to follow the red pendant that plunges into darkness.

They follow, finding their prey vulnerable. He is pinned; a shoot pierces his leg. The spirit turns back, panic overtaking him. He must protect his treasure!

He stops short at the plea from his treasure. Flee? How could he? But the chimera persists, and he listens to the demand. After all, what's a treasure worth at the cost of the thief's life?

He turns and leaves. The yells of their pursuers become triumphant. He cannot endure the sound. He pauses and looks back, only to watch as his treasure is speared through the heart.

His golden eyes opened fully as a cry tears forth from his throat.

"Kuronue!"

Hazel eyes flashed open. A golden taint illuminated them for all of a second before they dimmed into an everyday shade of green. Kurama sighed as most of his energy went into putting a mental barrier in place. Already the incessant demands began their unending assault, not even allowing him a brief moment of peace.

Restless, I need to hunt.

This seemed to be the dominant urge this morning. The redhead groaned, leaning forward and slumping against his knee. The moment he left this room, the fox would become distracted by some other whim. It was bad enough that he had to relive the memories of the spirit fox every night, but why must he also be cursed with its mentality?

He glanced out the window. It was still dark, so he could only have slept for a few hours this time. Tonight's memories had obsessed about the bat that trapped Youko in a humanoid form in the first place.

If anyone were to blame for his curse, it would be Kuronue. The bat after all, was the one responsible for driving the Kitsune from his golden forest to begin with. A pang of shame swept through him. Kuronue had sacrificed his life unselfishly, a noble act. Who was he to judge the guilt of another?

Kurama shook the unsettling thought from his head.

Hunt. I want to hunt.

The fox demanded insistently in his mind, but was soon distracted by the churning in his stomach. What was that feeling again? Oh yes, hunger. Hazel eyes widened, how long had it been since he'd eaten?

3 days, 4 hours, 22 minutes, and 32 seconds.

The fox informed him amiably. Kurama grimaced; he'd forgotten to eat again. "Stupid fox." He muttered to himself as he swung his feet out of bed. He moved downstairs at a crawl, fighting the sudden screeching of the Youko in his soul.

It was worst when he passed a window.

Leaves, I want to count them. There are 5,982 leaves in the tree, 6, 035 in the bushes, 600 across the street.

Kurama grimaced at the Youko's obsessive need to count everything considered his. His senses continued to spill through every area visible to him through that small window.

There are 32 bugs on that tree, and 78 bugs in the garden.

Kurama ran to get away from the living room and into the windowless kitchen. There, the Youko quieted, extending its senses to admire the smooth, shiny cabinet handles.

He poured a bowl of cereal and picked up a silver spoon. The shine fixated the fox's attention.

Treasure, must hide it.

His hand froze with a spoonful of cereal held in front of his mouth. He gazed at it forlornly. Maybe if he did quit eating… No! He couldn't think like that.

Five years. It had been five years ago when he contemplated ending his miserable existence. He would have too, if not for his mother. She was ill, and he had to save her. Fortunately, the fox had agreed. Shiori was a valuable treasure, how could he leave her to die?

The spoon moved to his lips, and he forced himself to swallow. At one time, the taste of food had actually reached him, but now he was too distracted for even that. He continued to force the food down, until he decided that was all he could bear for now. Later, he decided. He would just eat some more later.

He rose, leaving the bowl sitting on the table, and headed for the bathroom. Once there, he swiftly undressed. Kurama stood before the full-length mirror, critically examining his body. A whimper escaped his lips as a ghostly claw traced down his spine.

Mine.

Kurama glared at his reflection in the mirror, trying to decide just what it was about this disgusting body that made the kitsune desire it. No feature here was terribly impressive; in fact, most of his features were repulsive.

The skin on his cheeks was thin and starved, and cheekbones had become clearly visible. His eyes were dull and boring. The redhead tugged on his waist-length locks disdainfully; his hair was tangled, matted, and way too dry.

His hands ran down over his chest. Despite his former fighting, his figure remained pathetically feminine. He absently tweaked a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. His hands continued moving down his stomach.

No muscle, no fat. His body looked starved and pale. His hands traveled lower yet. He wasn't terribly impressive here either. Ghostly fingers traced over him yet again, awakening his body against his will.

With one last scathing glance at himself, he turned and entered the shower. Kurama made the water as scalding as he could and scrubbed at his skin obsessively. He couldn't make himself any less pathetic looking that he already was, but at least he wouldn't worsen it by being filthy.

About fifteen minutes later, he returned to his bedroom. A glance at the clock indicated it was only five in the morning.

Want to go run.

So the Kitsune was back on that now… With a cry of dismay, Kurama threw himself down onto the bed and pressed a pillow over his ears. It was futile, of course, but all he could try to do was to drown out the demands.

He listened to the clock tick by as each moment the drive to do as the Youko said built. Finally, nearly half an hour later, he gave up. The pressure in his head was unbearable. Satiating the restless spirit was probably his only shot at not passing out from the pain.

Without bothering to put on shoes, he leapt out the window, knowing that nobody else would be out this early. He took off running in the dark, his feet moving so swiftly that they seemed to be always off the ground.

He ran at phenomenal speeds, so within minutes, he'd hit forest. At this point, he gave into the demands of the fox and ran, jumping through the trees.

As predicted, the pressure did somewhat alleviate. However, in the chilly darkness, old memories had a way of creeping up on him. Everywhere he ran shadows appeared in the corner of his eyes.

All manner of creatures, linked only by their association to Youko, seemed to appear before him. Kurama's heart pounded in his chest as he ran, trying to escape particularly brutal images that crept up on him.

Was there any hope left for him? It certainly didn't seem that way. He had to live, if only to prevent the Youko spirit from being unleashed on the world. This madness inside him was slowly driving him insane. Sooner or later, he would snap. And the worst part was, he had no choice in the matter.

Spare a little candle

Save some light for me

Figures up ahead

Moving in the trees

Why was it that life had to be like this? Kurama thought, taking a seat against a tree. When the spirit fox had lost Kuronue, he had indeed been trapped. At first, when Kuronue appeared, Youko had merely thought to trap him.

Then, as fate would have it, the bat had lured Youko into a false sense of trust. When the fox let his guard down, Kuronue made that ring of markings around his neck. Apparently, he had a skill with spells. The legendary silver fox was transformed from his normal aspect, and into a humanoid figure.

Luminescent, graceful, and the essence of moonlight; those were the qualities endowed upon him in both his forms. Yet Youko had still loved the chimera fiercely.

The kitsune minded not the prison of his body, because as a result of that prison, he was able to unite physically with his 'treasure'.

Kurama nearly cried out at the surge of pure longing that these thoughts brought out from the kitsune. Why must he be the one to bear this burden? The fox hadn't been trapped, but rather changed, as a result of the demon's death.

He gained the ability to change between forms, but in the humanoid form, he began to think more and more like a demon, and less like a spirit. For all of three months, the famous bandit king had been able to fool some demons into idolizing him.

All that he accomplished in those three months had earned him a reputation throughout Makai. He then grew bored and traveled to Rekai, the spirit world. For several years he entertained himself by stealing various treasures from King Enma's vaults. Then came the fateful day he had been slain…

As a spirit, the Kitsune was unharmed, but severely weakened. His demonic shell however, had been purged. The mind within it, the one actually capable of deeper thought, dissolved.

To survive, the Kitsune fled to Ningenkai and implanted himself into the shell of the human, Shuuichi. And so, he had been plagued by this menace from birth. If not for Shiori's love and Youko's fascination with her, he probably would have been unable to learn how to separate his mind from the fox's impulses.

It didn't change anything. While this human shell lived, the fox was an integral part of it. So the fox's urges were his own, and yet, they were separate as well.

White skin in linen

Perfume on my wrist

And the full moon that hangs over

These dreams in the mist

The spirit had been moonlight in a body; this body was nothing in comparison. Still, the fox was fascinated by it.

Sensing the direction his thoughts had taken, an image of the fox appeared in front of him. Kurama glared and unconsciously pressed further back against the tree. The Kitsune stalked towards him slowly, its golden eyes gleaming with some unidentified emotion.

The figure stopped in front of him, resting a ghostly paw on his leg. Suddenly, the Kitsune shifted, and his other form appeared. Youko pushed himself up and sprang forward, pressing his lips against his living counterpart's.

Their lips were connected very briefly, and then the spirit passed through his body, leaving a deathly cold in its place. Kurama gasped and doubled over as the cold spread throughout his skin. This feeling could only be death.

Tears sprang to his eyes, but didn't fall as he buried his head between his knees and knotted his hands in his hair. Freezing fingers returned, caressing the exposed back of his neck. A mangled sob fell from his lips as the trails made on his back numbed briefly after the touch.

A hand ran down his side, almost mocking in its tenderness. Kurama dug his teeth into his lower lip and bit back a cry. Then, somehow, the translucent touches moved under his clothing.

The cold bit into his skin, initiating a dull ache. "Stop it." He whimpered, his voice sounding futile even to his ears. "Just go away!" his voice came out at a mere whisper.

Then a different feeling overtook him. Chills rose to the surface of his skin as the fox's caresses continued. Another strangled gasp escaped him, but this time it was more out of surprise. His breath was ragged and he clutched at the aching skin, even knowing the source wasn't in the flesh itself.

Kurama felt his body begin to stir despite the otherworldly pain. Tremors wracked his body at every touch, and he soon felt himself relaxing against his will.

My treasure.

His body uncurled and his cheeks flushed as the persuasive caressing slowly began to win him over. The biting cold moved to grasp him lower. He threw his head back in pleasure and clenched his eyes shut in pain.

He felt… so cold. His breathing turned shallow, his heart rate actually slowing. It felt almost as if he was being elevated outside his body. Another moan of pleasure moved languidly into the air.

This felt so good… but why? Something about this seemed wrong. What was it? His mind was hazy, he couldn't think straight.

No, he shouldn't be doing this. This was wrong; he shouldn't enjoy this. He tried to force his body up, only to find that he was too weak to move.

Light kisses were planted up and down his body. Kurama tried to move again, but even his half-lidded eyelids were frozen. His heartbeat was non-existent. A growing darkness filled his head. He had to stop this. There was no distinguishable thought left…

Darkness on the edge

Shadows where I stand

I search for the time

On a watch with no hands

I want to see you clearly

Come closer than this

But all I remember

Are the dreams in the mist

There was something important to remember, something he needed to know. He could feel his body's pleasure, but he was somehow detached. His mind was numbed, and his heart was beating dangerously slow.

He saw a hazy figure in front of him. His breathing suddenly became thunderous; he could hear it resonate in his ears, just barely occurring at all. A paw rested on his leg, and he could feel something brush gently along his belly.

Maybe if it came closer, he would remember. There was something…

His tentative thoughts vanished as he distantly felt his body reach the peak of its pleasure. No more strength lingered in his body, yet the sensations still plagued it.

There was no way to escape it; everything was too hazy. The touches continued, reverent, fixated. His entire body was numb. No longer could he feel that biting cold. Finally, his eyes closed.

These dreams go on when I close my eyes

Every second of the night I live another life

These dreams that sleep when it's cold outside

Every moment I'm awake the further I'm away

Even in sleep, there could be no escape. Shallow breaths were few and far between, miraculously still allowing him oxygen.

It was hard to tell what was real anymore… In reality though, it was both lives. One was still continuing, and the other was merely a shadow, but nonetheless real.

Sleep would just plunge him into the other life. Subconsciously, Kurama struggled to stay awake. If he didn't sleep, then he could hold off the loss of identity that reoccurred every time he slept.

And through all of this… his body showed no scars from past battles. No signs remained to remind him of the countless attempts of release with his rose whip, those times he encouraged the barbs to hook deeper into his flesh, and then roughly pulled them out again.

No physical signs remained, no memoirs of hard-fought battles. A spirit could not have wounds. Only the weakening body remained, haunting him.

Is it cloak 'n dagger

Could it be spring or fall

I walk without a cut

Through a stained glass wall

Weaker in my eyesight

The candle in my grip

And words that have no form

Are falling from my lips

Blood. It seemed that even behind his eyelids, the constant memory of blood followed him. The blood of those he betrayed, the blood of those he'd slain, the blood of comrades lost in battle, and his own blood that he himself had released.

If only, he could just tell someone. Rekai would likely punish him, as containing the Spirit Fox was the condition on which he still walked free. All he could do was hope that someone noticed.

Sooner or later, he'd be overtaken anyway. At that point, Rekai would release him from his burden, or so they claimed. It was far more likely that they'd attempt to contain the spirit, and his body with it.

He couldn't tell anyone, and he couldn't escape on his own. This constant plague was slowly eating away at his mind. He was calling for help, but the words wouldn't form in his mouth.

A soundless cry was as close as he would ever come to expressing pain. And even then, when he was screaming in his mind, none of it showed past the barrier in his mind; the prison that kept the Kitsune from invading everyone else's thoughts as well.

These dreams go on when I close my eyes

Every second of the night I live another life

These dreams that sleep when it's cold outside

Every moment I'm awake the further I'm away

Slowly, as if awakening from a dream, the numbness began to lighten. The fox waited as if he hadn't just nearly killed him. Contact with spirits was a thousand times worse than contact with ghosts, they actually spread death through you instead of just possessing it.

Want to run more now.

The moment he regained awareness, the demands returned. He gave a deep sigh. You'd think after all this time he'd be used to it.

Move!

The Youko was screeching at him. He cast a glance upward; it looked to be nearly noon. As he slowly pushed himself into a sitting position, the demands took on a louder tone.

Kurama groaned and rubbed his temples forcefully, only to wince as more movement induced a more active insistence from the fox.

Up now!

The fox's demands rose to a fever pitch. Kurama pressed his hands to his throbbing head. Why was he so insistent now of all times? Kurama gritted his teeth; there were no signs of this stopping any time soon. He had to do something.

Want to run!

"Ahhh!"

There's something out there

I can't resist

I need to hide away from the pain

There's something out there

I can't resist

The sweetest song is silence

That I've ever heard

Funny how your feet

In dreams never touch the earth

Kurama turned over on his hands and knees and rammed his head into the tree behind him.

No. Bad.

He ignored the admonishment and slammed his head into the tree as hard as he could. Pain swept through his head, burning, making his senses more alert. The fox stopped screeching, sitting back silently to watch what his treasure was doing.

Still feeling the presence in his mind, the redhead continued to bash against the tree. His control over plants came in handy here, enabling him to find the hardest areas on its trunk.

Skin split and blood spilled, more or less the same color as his hair. He had to escape! Anything would be acceptable, as long as he got away from the spirit. One final head butt was all he could endure however. Spent, he slipped back onto the earth.

His bones were cold again, impossibly cold. He struggled to breathe and resist the dizziness from losing blood. "Just let me escape." He whispered hoarsely.

The lightheadedness that one can recognize as the nearness of death seemed almost euphoric. Suddenly the pain seemed to vanish again.

Move.

His body trembled under the pressure of the cold, yet he felt nothing. Kurama slid his hands under his body and forced his body up onto all fours. Youko seemed unbothered by this, as he was a fox.

Gasping, he dragged his body forward. Slowly, painfully, he progressed in the direction the fox indicated. Why should he even bother fighting anymore?

Youko drove him onward, and Kurama kept moving. Even as unfeeling as he was, his body could only go so far. He continued trying to will himself forward, but his limbs wouldn't respond.

In a wood full of princes

Freedom is a kiss

But the prince hides his face

From dreams in the mist

The nearness of death frightened him, and yet, it wasn't entirely unwelcome. If he died however, the consequences would be…

"Help me." He pleaded through dry lips. "There's nothing more that I can do."

Answering his call, Youko's senses extended and engulfed him. Everything was silver. Kurama felt a comforting presence approaching.

The Youko's lips, while cold, didn't have the same bite to them as before. Almost as if his soul was being freed, his senses of the body slowly dimmed.

As he slowly passed from awareness, the last thing he felt was Youko, his kiss unending as everything was engulfed in silver.

These dreams go on when I close my eyes

Every second of the night I live another life

These dreams that sleep when it's cold outside

Every moment I'm awake the further I'm away

These dreams go on when I close my eyes

Every second of the night I live another life

These dreams that sleep when it's cold outside

Every moment I'm awake the further I'm away

A/N: I suppose this is a prologue of sorts to a trilogy of one shots. It is also my first song fic. Compared to my normal length, this is incredibly long. (Page wise, at least) I actually don't have that much to say; I think it turned out pretty well. I probably won't have the next part up for a while, but when I do, it will be posted as a separate story. I have no set pairing, other than past Kuro/Youko, so any suggestions are welcome.

As for Words Once Spoken, I am no longer extremely busy with schoolwork, so I should have the next chapter up really soon.

A special thanks to darksaphire for editing this, you're wonderful!

At this point, he was trying to remember that this was neither a human nor a demon

Disclaimer: You wouldn't be reading this if you honestly thought I owned Yu Yu Hakusho or any of its characters.

The song used in this fic was called These Dreams, by Heart. (Isn't it perfect?)