Chapter III: Foot-in-Mouth Encounter
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"Koenma." The name is a venomous hiss as it slips through clenched teeth, and his lips pull back in a snarl as the said entity's gentle footfalls bring him closer into the dank enclosure.
The said demi-Godling nods in a listless, offhand sort of manner at being addressed in such a murderous way, and waves the pitiful creature heretofore guarding the cell away with a casual wave of his hand before turning his attention to his captive.
"Youko," he addresses the man behind bars lightly, nodding; as though the transformation he had just witnessed had fazed him not at all. "You'll excuse me, but I'm more comfortable calling you Kurama."
"What is the meaning of this, Koenma?" His tone is silky, calm, but an undercurrent of promised violence hums just under its surface.
The creature notices.
"Eh, Lord Koenma, are you sure you want me to go? He seems… dangerous," the creature comments uneasily, gulping audibly as he backtracks into the dim enclosure a few paces. "Maybe… maybe I should stay?"
"No, no." Koenma waves his hand again, just as impatiently, and with such nonchalance as he assures, quite sure of the words, "Go on, he won't harm me," without gracing the creature a second glance.
"Ye-yes of course, Lord Ko-Koenma," the creature manages to stutter in a sickly, anxious voice that is full of relief. It almost falls over its too-large feet as it retreats quite hurriedly, and with a sloppy bow towards his Ruler, as far from him as possible.
"Sure about that, are you?" Youko questions idly, unable to keep the amusement from his voice as his eyes flick away from the creature to linger again on the Young Under-ruler.
Suddenly, he is on his feet and lunging towards the bars holding him prisoner in his miserable stone cubicle. Delicate, pale fingers close around the bars of the cell door that hold him captive and clench around them. The bars are grimy and a layer of filth casts itself around his palms as they clench against the iron. A small smirk graces his lips as he feels the cool metal in his grasp beneath the unsightly filth of the prison cell. One good pulse of aura and one good, concentrated contraction of his fingers, and the metal will splinter in his fingers, disintegrate to ash, in a matter of mere seconds. This knowledge spreads a thin, menacing smile across his face that curls up ever-so-slightly as he lets a stream of youki flow into his hands. His eyes, gone amber in the transformation, narrow as they regard the young prince with contempt, as he waits for the cold steel in his hands to crumble.
A moment later, a dagger of heat lances through his hands and he jumps back, startled, a low, pained hiss pressing out of his lips in surprise. "What the hell?" He snarls angrily, glaring down at his hands, the skin of his palms red and blistering where they had been in contact with the cell bars.
A delicate laugh rolls off of Koenma's lips as he answers the previously unanswered question with a deliberate, "Yes, I'm quite sure you won't harm me, Kurama."
"Bastard," is the snarled reply, as golden eyes flash murderously, narrowing even further in a showing of barely contained rage.
"It would be more beneficial to the both of us if you managed to check your anger, Kurama," the young God suggests as he continues to close the distance between himself and the enraged Spirit Fox that his Realm, in all its splendor, now entertained as a wanted murderer.
A harsh laugh follows his words, mirth practically ringing through him as he replies with the merest hint of venom, "And how would that benefit me, Koenma? I'm locked up, held under false accusations. If you want to hold me, at least let me earn my imprisonment."
Koenma crosses his arms before his chest, a heavy sigh falling from his lips, and shakes head; a slow, tired movement that leaves his bangs swishing across his forehead for several seconds after he has stilled. His eyes are somber, weary, as they regard the man standing mere feet before him, and while they are not wholly unkind, Kurama does not like the look.
"What?" The question is sharp and the tone thoroughly agitated; his silky, vulpine tail ticks in response to the emotion and mentally, he curses the appendage that now, after so many years, he is powerless to control, and that gives away his emotions only too clearly, despite what his normally blank face would show otherwise.
The ticking of the mentioned appendage does not go unnoticed, and Koenma lets out a low chuckle as he remarks, ever the wit, "You're mad at me."
"Aren't you the Genius," Youko snaps back, a hardened edge to the words — an edge so sharp that Koenma actually recoils slightly at them — that sends a ripple of pleasure chasing down his spine, momentarily stilling his twitching tail, as he takes in, with sadistic joy, the effect he has on his accuser.
"You're exuding surprisingly little youki for all the lethal intent and promised violence that hums under your skin," Koenma observes slowly, having backpedaled a few feet and taking a steadying breath of the stale dungeon air.
"I don't need my Energy to be dangerous, Koenma," Youko replies silkily, pausing in his response to lick delicately over one of his burnt palms, before adding, "Anger alone is perfect fuel for my fire, and thanks to you and your minions, my supply of it is endless — you've really pissed me off."
"Then, rather than extend to you an apology for the abysmal conditions of your entrapment, as I was planning to do, Kurama—" Koenma begins pointedly, shaking his head in a patronizing, sorry sort of way as he turns from the cell and begins a slow retreat from the dungeon-like enclosure, "—I'll just say I'm glad, then, that your holding cell can at least keep your Energy sealed, and as such, at least a part of what makes you such a threat to everyone."
"I haven't done any of what you've accused, Koenma," is the deep-in-the-throat growl that chases the demi-Godling's retreating footfalls as angry fists clench around the bars of his cell again.
"Surveillance saw you, Kurama," Koenma throws back over his shoulder tiredly, with a piteous half-glance in the Fox's direction. "And whether I believed the footage or not when I saw it, from what I've witnessed today, from what you've so blatantly made obvious to me, I'd be a fool to let you out before the trail, regardless of the standing accusations."
And with those words hanging in the air, heavy echoes left to bounce around the stone enclosure to taunt its lone prisoner, Koenma disappears.
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Standard Disclaimer: YYH and all associated characters/plots are sole property of Yoshihiro Togashi. FUNimation, VIZ media and all other parties with right to the title. These entities to not include me and I make no money from these writings; please don't sue.
Author's Ramblings: Title of the chapter was inspired by what I thought was the vaguely ironic ending. That is, if Youko maybe had kept his mouth shut and not flaunted the fact that he was perfectly capable of hurting someone, he might have gotten out of his dank, dungeon prison cell. Also, his dirty mouth. I feel like angry Youko = potty mouth, which probably didn't help him, either.
More than that, this chapter was originally supposed to be significantly longer, including a visit from Hiei. But I felt after writing as much as I had (which really, isn't all that much, I know), that because it had been so long since I'd written anything for this story, that I wanted to keep this fairly short and see how it flowed, before I got more lengthy again. As a result, this turned into a sort of semi-humorous (I think) filler chapter.
Please let me know what you think. There is a lot that displeases me about this chapter, but your honest opinions, be they critique, rant, ConCrit, or whatever else, regarding plot, characterization, and anything else constructive regarding writing style or the story, really help. So leave them at the door with your name, ne?
Blackrose