Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11764317.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major_Character_Death, Rape/Non-Con,
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M
  Fandom:
      幽☆遊☆白書_|_YuYu_Hakusho:_Ghost_Files
  Relationship:
      Karasu/Kurama_|_Minamino_Shuuichi
  Character:
      Karasu_(YuYu_Hakusho), Kurama_|_Minamino_Shuuichi, Original_Characters
  Additional Tags:
      Dark, Historical, Vampires, Alternate_Universe_-_Historical
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-08-11 Completed: 2017-10-19 Chapters: 9/9 Words: 13652
****** Antebellum Sunset ******
by Gimbat_ash
Summary
     An AU story set in the antebellum southern United States. Kurama is
     the son of a plantation owner set to be his father's heir. However,
     his life changes when the mysterious Karasu moves in nearby. His
     family loves the newcomer but Kurama can't shake the feeling that he
     is more than what he seems.
     Originally written for another fandom, this fic was too perfect for
     Karasu and Kurama.
***** The Raven Flies In *****
The sun hung low on the horizon painting the tobacco fields a deep red. A lone
figure paced the furrowed rows. He blended perfectly into the heavenly scene.
His hair shown with a fiery sheen all its own. Even his eyes sparkled, a
stunning emerald green. This beauty dressed in white had no destination in
mind. A breeze raced across the Carolina countryside just to caress this one’s
cheek, bringing a subtle blush to the skin.
“Kurama! Come in! Supper’s ready!”
Kurama grumbled. He wasn’t hungry. He had no desire to obey his mother but he
knew he should all the same. His father always criticized his scrawniness so he
figured he’d better eat. He relished the last of the fresh air before heading
inside. As he climbed the steps onto the vast porch of the plantation house,
Kurama had to admit that dinner smelled absolutely mouthwatering.
When he entered the dining room, the whole family already sat around the table.
Henrietta, one of the house slaves, was just setting down the last dish of
food.
“You’re late,” Kurama’s father admonished sternly.
“I’m sorry, father. I lost track of time.”
“Well, let’s say grace,” his mother cut in in attempt to avoid an argument.
The family clasped their hands and bowed their heads while Kurama’s father said
the prayer of thanks for the meal.
At the word ‘amen’ Kurama eagerly dug into his piece of roasted chicken. Seeing
the tender meat surrounded with mashed potatoes and collard greens, all
smothered in gravy perked his appetite.
“Wow, Kurama. You really seem hungry today. I guess finally getting out of the
house made you work up an appetite,” Kurama’s older sister, Eleanor, commented.

Kurama had to swallow before replying. “I suppose so. Still, I’d like to play
the piano for a little bit before I go to sleep. I just don’t feel right going
through a whole day without playing.”
Marie, the oldest of the three Scarborough children, spoke up. “You know,
Kurama, you really should find something more interesting to do. No woman is
ever going to want to marry you at this rate.”
“Now Marie, Kurama is only 15. He still has a lot of growing up yet.”
Kurama smiled. His mother always came to his rescue. He hadn’t minded Maire’s
comment so much. It was mostly his father that worried him. Kurama couldn’t
help but feel inadequate under his father’s glare. He knew he was a less than
ideal heir. He wanted to please his parents but he also wanted to be true to
his own character. He wasn’t the strong, manly son his father hoped for.
“Have you heard about the man that bought the old Smith plantation?”
All present shook their heads ‘no’ and waited for Mr. Scarborough to explain.
“He seems like a real gentleman. He’s a veteran too. He fought in the War of
1812.”
Marie’s face fell. She was obviously hoping that the man would be young and
handsome but the War of 1812 was almost 30 years ago.
“Does he seem nice?” Kurama asked. “I’d love hear his stories from the War.”
“You know, Kurama. I hope you spend time with him. I think he would be a good
example for you.”
“Maybe. May I be excused. I’d like to have my piano practice now.”
***** The Raven has Dropped a Black Feather at Your Door *****
Chapter Summary
     Karasu is coming to dinner and he is not what Kurama expected.
The house was quiet. The only sound breaking the silence was the slow, peaceful
song Kurama played. His long graceful finger meandered over the keyboard. He
knew this song well by now. He just liked to play it sometimes. It seemed the
perfect thing for this lazy summer afternoon. Eleanor sat on the window seat
studying French. Her long, blond hair shone in the sunlight streaming through
the glass. Her lips moved silently as she committed another word to memory.
These were the days that made Kurama happy to be just who he was. His songs
always fit his mood. Sometimes he would play a lovely classical piece and
sometimes his fingers would make up something all their own. He played as
easily as he spoke, more easily even. Even though Eleanor studied, Kurama knew
she was listening. She always seemed to know how he felt just by listening to
his songs. The two siblings were close and they told each other everything.
They were a quiet pair but, together, they held their own against the more
outspoken Marie.
A shrill shriek shattered the silence. The bang of feet against the wooden
floor echoed through the house.
“Eleanor! He’s coming! We have to get ready!”
Kurama’s face scrunched in confusion. “Who’s coming?”
Marie was not deterred in the slightest by the nonchalance of her siblings.
“Mr. Karasu is coming for supper! Don’t you want to look good for our company?”
“I think I look alright. He’s just some old guy anyway,” Eleanor replied.
“Suit yourself. Come on, Kurama!”
Kurama groaned when Marie dragged him out of the room and up the stairs. This
was standard practice. Kurama and Marie had been the same height most of their
lives so Marie decided that he would make an excellent mannequin. Kurama
desperately hoped that he would hit a growth spurt soon. Not only did he hope
to no longer fit into his sisters dresses, but he hoped to be taller simply
because he wanted to reach 6 feet.
The door to Marie’s room clicked shut ominously. “I’d like to wear something
light colored.”
Kurama sighed resignedly as he took off his shirt and donned a corset and hoop
skirt frame while his sister tossed dress after dress onto the bed.
“I think this green dress would be appropriate. Here, let me tie that for you.”
Kurama gasped for air as the corset closed in around him.
“You know, Kurama. It really is too bad you’re a boy. You have such a lovely
figure. It’s almost as nice as mine.”
“Just get on with it. I can barely breathe,” Kurama wheezed.
To Kurama’s dire disappointment, the proceeding continued for the next two
hours. Marie put her green dress on him first then tried various pieces of
jewelry and gloves and shoes with it. In the end, she decided she didn’t like
any of it and replaced the green dress with a pink frilly one. Kurama grimaced
at his reflection in the mirror. His father would die if he saw this.
“I don’t know how I feel about that necklace. What do you think, Kurama?”
“I think my vision is getting blurry.”
“Well, I think it’s gorgeous. The dress really is too young though, isn’t it?”
Marie tossed the pink dress aside and pulled a pale yellow dress over Kurama’s
head.
“Yes! That’s perfect. I need different gloves.”
Then the process starred all over again. Marie tried all of the jewelry and all
of her shoes and all of the gloves.
“Why, I do declare! This is it. Don’t take it off yet. I want to look it over
some more. Those shoes really are the finishing touch and that…”
Kurama collapsed.
“Oh! Bless his little heart. He’s fainted again.”
~
Kurama woke up on his sister’s floor. The room was clean so he must have been
out a while, at least long enough for his sister to get the clothes off his
dead-weight body, get ready, and clean up her room. He retrieved his shirt from
the floor. The ground seemed unsteady beneath his feet. Marie’s excited ‘He’s
here! He’s here!’ wafted up from downstairs. He tugged the shirt over his head
and tucked it back in as he hurried to his room to grab his suit coat.
He almost collided with his mother in the hall on his way outside.
“Oh, good,” Mrs. Scarborough smiled at her son, “You’re all ready. Now come
along.”
The whole family lined up along the drive to meet the approaching carriage.
Marie was practically bursting with excitement. The rest of the family waited
calmly. Eleanor caught Kurama’s eye. She glanced at Marie and then back at
Kurama, rolling her eyes. Kurama grinned back at her. The carriage pulled up in
front of the house. Mr. Karasu’s face was turned away from them as he handed
the reins of the carriage to a slave. Then he hopped to the ground.
The eyes of the three children widened. Long, silky black hair cascaded down
his back and over his shoulders. His face was flawlessly pale and unlined. Keen
blue, almost purple, eyes surveyed the family. Mr. Scarborough stepped forward
and shook hands with the visitor.
“Karasu, how kind of you to come here at such short notice.”
The handsome features creased with a smile. “It was no trouble at all. I didn’t
want to pass up this opportunity to meet your lovely family.”
His gaze lingered especially long on Marie who blushed deeply.
“Why don’t we sit on the porch until dinner is ready? I’ll have Henrietta bring
some sweet tea,” Mrs. Scarborough suggested.
“That sound’s delightful, Mrs. Scarborough,” Karasu responded.
Kurama couldn’t stifle the admiration that rose within him. This man was all he
ever wanted to be, handsome, charming, everything. He glanced at Eleanor. She
seemed almost as enamored as Marie. At the moment, she was brushing off her
dress and fixing her hair. Perhaps she wished she had gotten all dressed up as
well. Kurama couldn’t blame her. He wished he had dressed up more.
Kurama’s mother hurried inside to tell the house slaves to serve the tea. The
others took seats on the porch. Kurama was last to get a seat and to his
simultaneous horror and delight the only remaining seat was on the bench next
to Karasu. He discreetly sat down. His father had already begun to talk about
business. He inquired about Karasu’s plantation and asked if he needed any help
or wanted to buy any slaves. As his accent suggested, he was not from the South
and he had many questions about the slave market. Mrs. Scarborough returned
with two slaves. One brought a chair for her and another brought a tray of iced
tea.
Kurama ignored the conversation and looked over at his sisters. They were each
trying to get Karasu’s attention as inconspicuously as possible. Kurama noticed
a rather nice fragrance in the air. He breathed a little deeper, trying to
discern the source of the scent. To his surprise, he realized that he was
smelling Karasu. The scent was subtle, a mix of spices and gunpowder. He
wondered if Karasu could smell him too. He desperately hoped that he didn’t
stink.
“You don’t have a wife? Why that’s terrible.”
Marie’s voice jolted Kurama to wakefulness.
“No, I don’t,” Karasu replied. “Unfortunately, my wife passed away some years
ago.”
Marie perked up. “Do you think you’ll get married again?”
“Perhaps.” The suggestive tone in his voice was unmistakable. “I might marry
again if I find a woman who strikes my fancy.”
“What kind of woman would that be?”
Eleanor jabbed Marie for asking such an improper question but all she
accomplished was to hurt her elbow on one of the whale bones in Marie’s corset.

Karasu obliged her question and described a woman suspiciously like Marie. Mrs.
Scarborough was beginning to get antsy about the direction of the conversation.
Kurama cut in and relieved the tension.
“Sir,” Kurama began. He was met with a pleasant smile from the man next to him.
“Call me Karasu. Your father hoped that we might become friends after all.”
“If you’d like. Karasu, my father mentioned that you fought in the War of 1812.
I was looking forward to hearing any stories you’d be willing to share.”
Karasu’s eyes lit up and he launched into an impressive tale recounting the
unsuccessful defense of the White House against the advancing British and how
Dolly Madison, the first lady at the time, rescued many treasures from the
blazing presidential mansion including a portrait of George Washington, the
nation’s first president. Kurama listened raptly. Karasu continued on about
what it was like to be a teenager in the military. He told many more stories,
some about defeats some about victories. He seemed unusually preoccupied with
fire and cannons.
Before long the rest of the family got bored. One by one, each made some excuse
to go indoors until Kurama and Karasu sat alone on the porch.
“I wish I could do something exciting like go to war,” Kurama sighed.
A serious look came over Karasu’s features. “War is a nasty thing. A boy like
you is far more suited to a beautiful place like this.”
Kurama frowned. “Are you implying that I’m too fragile?”
“No.” Karasu’s smirk was unsettling and alluring at the same time. “I’m
implying that you’re beautiful.”
“But I don’t want to be beautiful,” Kurama pouted. “I want to be strong and
manly like you.”
The smirk was back. “I like you just as you are. There are enough strong and
manly men in this world. You are something far more rare and precious.”
Kurama’s breath caught as Karasu caressed his cheek. His hand was cool despite
the sweltering summer heat.
The two stared at each other, Karasu’s smoldering gaze raping Kurama’s wide,
innocent eyes.
“Dinner’s ready you two.” Henrietta broke the strained quiet.
“Thank you. We’ll be right in.”
When Henrietta left, Karasu turned back to Kurama. “Meet me at your gate after
I leave and I’ll show you just how I feel about you.” With that, he swooped in
and placed a chaste kiss on Kurama’s lips. Then he was gone, into the house.
Kurama sat for a few moments more, dazed. His hand moved up to touch his lips.
He felt light-headed and breathless, both confused and flattered.
He shook his head hard to wake himself up and hurried inside. He had a decision
to make.
***** Accepting the Invitation *****
Chapter Summary
     Kurama's curiosity gets the better of him. What does Karasu have in
     store for him?
Chapter Notes
     I reiterate the warning that this story contains explicit material
     and dubious/non-consensual situations.
“What am I doing?” Kurama thought as he walked to the edge of his family’s
plantation. He felt Karasu’s eyes on him all through dinner though he tried to
ignore it. Still, he didn’t have much of an appetite with all the thoughts
swirling in his mind. He couldn’t understand Karasu one bit. After they went
inside, he went back to flirting with Marie and Eleanor. No one paid any
attention to him with the exception of a comment from his father: “Eat up Rory.
You don’t want to be scrawny forever.” It seemed strange that his father used
his real name. Everyone had called him Kurama since he was a baby.
Maybe that’s why he decided to meet Karasu. He called Kurama beautiful, not
frail or scrawny or measly. He really seemed to think that Kurama was a worthy
person just as he was. Nevertheless, Kurama could not shake the feeling of
foreboding that grew the nearer he got to the gate. What did Karasu mean when
he said that he’d show him how he felt? Then there was the issue of the kiss.
Kurama had never been kissed like that before. Wasn’t that gesture something
that a man did to a women? It didn’t make any sense. A large part of what drew
him onward was the urge to assuage his curiosity.  
His pulse sped up at the sight of the dark figure waiting just beyond the metal
bars. What would happen when he stepped outside his sanctuary? Belatedly,
Kurama realized that he’d never been outside the plantation gates without his
family. The gravel crunching beneath his feet was red in the waning daylight,
making it look as though he walked across the blood-soaked ground of a demonic
realm rather than on the soil of his family home.
The dark figure turned to face him and Kurama stopped breathing for the moment
that Karasu’s gaze took hold of him. It beckoned him to continue. Before he
realized what he was doing, Kurama stepped over the threshold and took the
offered hand. Without a word, Karasu pulled him into his carriage and they were
off.
“What have I done? What have I done?” Kurama’s mind screamed. This just didn’t
seem right. They had only met this afternoon. Everything was happening too
quickly. Why was he even going along with this? He glanced over the side of the
carriage. Could he jump out? What if he was just being paranoid? His father
trusted Mr. Karasu. Perhaps the other man simply wanted to have tea and discuss
self-esteem. Why did he kiss him, then? Yes, this was all wrong, but when
Kurama looked up, he saw that it was already too late. They were pulling up in
front of the house. Karasu handed off the carriage and told the slaves that he
was not to be disturbed.
“So no one will hear me scream,” Kurama thought. Then he felt a large hand wrap
around his and he reluctantly went into the house. They did not go into the
drawing room but up the stairs. Kurama tried desperately to keep his wits about
him but panic nagged at the edges of his consciousness. He fought the urge to
scream and run when the bedroom door shut behind him.
“W-why are we in your bedroom?” Kurama tried, unsuccessfully, to keep his voice
steady.
“I told you I would show you how I feel about you.” Kurama’s eyes flicked
frantically around the lavish room for a route of escape as Karasu advanced on
him.
“Are you going to kiss me again?”
“Yes, and so much more.”
Karasu smothered whatever Kurama intended to say. Kurama squirmed as a tongue
invaded his mouth. That sweet scent surrounded him then and as he relaxed, he
felt a hand stroking his hair. It all felt strange, but strangely good. He felt
almost feverish and his mind seemed suddenly foggy. Karasu’s lips moved to his
neck and Kurama let his head fall back to give the other better access. He felt
his coat slip from his shoulders and deft fingers working at the buttons on his
shirt. As the second garment fluttered to the floor, Karasu’s lips moved lower.
“You have such lovely shoulders,” the sultry voice purred. All Kurama could
manage for a response was a moan deep in his throat. Cool hands had begun to
toy with his nipples. Kurama gasped as he was swept off the floor without
warning. When Karasu set him down on the bed, worry came alight within him once
more. What was Karasu going to do? Already this was wrong. He could go to Hell
for this, for letting another man do these things to him. Not to mention, if
his parents ever found out, he would be in more trouble than he could imagine.
The sight of Karasu removing his shirt distracted Kurama from his thoughts. He
had the nicest body Kurama had ever seen. Long, lean muscles flexed beneath
startlingly pale skin. All the same, Kurama sat up and made for the edge of the
large bed.
His back hit the mattress hard. A moist tongue attacked Kurama’s nipples.
“Karasu, please, we should stop this,” Kurama protested, trying to push the
heavier man off him. “This isn’t right. I’m not…ugh…I’m not comfortable with
this.”
Karasu smirked as he ground his hips against Kurama’s. The younger was getting
hard quickly and his breathing came in deep gasps. “Your body would suggest
otherwise.”
“No! Let me go.” Still, Kurama made no move fight. On the contrary, his hips
arched upward and his hands grasped the coverlet. His mind felt clouded again
and his body wouldn’t obey his brain. Even when his lower half met the air inch
by inch, no objection left his mouth.
“Beautiful, so beautiful,” Karasu murmured, caressing Kurama’s inner thigh. The
redhead had no idea he’d even spread his legs. It was just instinct. Soon the
caresses stopped and Kurama whined. Karasu chuckled and Kurama almost wished he
hadn’t been so insistent.
A wet finger pushed into his body. He tried to close his legs, get away,
something, but he was held in place.
“Let me go!” he screamed. “What do you think you’re doing? You’re hurting me!”
Tears ran down Kurama’s cheeks as a second finger invaded him. Karasu’s free
hand gripped Kurama’s hair just as a third finger went in and he swallowed the
boy’s scream. However, after some well-aimed thrusts, the screams changed to
moans.   
“Ugh, yes,” Kurama gasped breathlessly as a cock sank into him.
“That’s right, my darling. I mean to pleasure you.”
Kurama writhed in pleasure now between the thrusts to his prostate and the way
his cock rubbed against the body moving above him. He felt something building
in his stomach. His pleasure addled brain didn’t analyze it, just enjoyed it.
His hips raised to meet the thrusts, striving to drive the throbbing member
even deeper inside. He gasped as Karasu shuttered and released inside of him.
Then white exploded across his vision.
It wasn’t until his vision cleared that Kurama realized that he had screamed.
He fought to calm his breathing. What just happened?
“You were amazing,” Karasu whispered, showering kisses over his face which
scrunched as he was left empty.
“My, you are young aren’t you?” he stroked Kurama’s stomach. He had yet to
reach puberty.    
“I can’t believe I let that happen. Who knew I was nothing but a common whore?”
“Don’t say that!” Karasu gathered his young lover into his arms. “I wanted to
make love to you to show you how much you mean to me.”
“How can I mean anything to you? You haven’t even known me for 24 hours.”
“Love at first sight.”
“Sure. I’m going home.”
Kurama pulled his clothes on and walked all the way back to his house. Karasu
made no effort to go after him.  
***** In the Light of Day *****
Chapter Summary
     Kurama has has the night to mull over what happened. How will he
     react to seeing Karasu after what happened?
Kurama blinked at the bright sun streaming into his window. He grunted and
rolled over. His backside hurt both from being penetrated and from the beating
his father had given him for coming in so late and getting his shoes muddy. It
had been years since he’d gotten the paddle and he couldn’t figure out if it
seemed to hurt more now because he wasn’t used to it or because the area was
already tender. He’d asked that a bath be drawn for him under the pretense of
washing off sweat and mud but what concerned him more was Karasu’s scent
lingering on his skin. He just felt dirty. He’d scrubbed long after the water
went cold but he never could rid himself of the filthy feeling that smothered
his senses.
Now he bathed in the morning light. He felt that it cleansed him far more than
water. It heralded a new day. The night was over. It was time for a new start.
He gingerly scooted over to the edge of his bed, which was every bit as lavish
as Karasu’s. The smooth white cotton sheets slid soothly over Kurama’s bare
legs. A thin nightshirt was all he wore to bed during summer’s sweltering
nights. He’d kicked he bedspread off into a corner sometime during sleep and a
thin sheen of perspiration made the fabric of the nightshirt and his hair to
stick uncomfortably to his skin.
Kurama shoved his feet through the gap in the mosquito netting surrounding his
sleeping area and stumbled sleepily over to open his window. To his relief, a
breeze washed over him. He then walked over to the washbasin. Sometime in the
early morning, a slave had placed a fresh pitcher of water beside it. He poured
the liquid into the bowl and whisked his shirt off. He closed his eyes and took
a moment to revel in the sensation of the gentle wind caressing his bare skin
but only a moment. Today was Sunday. He had to hurry up so as not to be late
for church. He took up the cloth resting on the wash table. Then he dipped it
in the water. It felt good to run it over his face and then his neck. He wet
the cloth again, ringing it out then he washed his back as best he could and
then swiped the cloth over his chest.
A shiver ran down his spine then as the cloth’s passage over his nipples
reminded him of last night, when Karasu touched him there. Instinctively, his
free hand grasped the silver cross necklace hanging around his neck. Seeing
that Kurama was a conscientious child, his grandfather gave it to him on his
6th birthday. He’d never taken it off since that day almost 10 years ago. It
was then that he realized that Karasu had carefully avoided the necklace. He’d
touched the nipples on either side of it but never the necklace itself. That
though caused Kurama to cling to it even more firmly. Even after he finished
washing and began dressing, the familiar weight around his neck gave him
comfort. Then the door burst open.
“AH! Oh, Maire. It’s only you.”
“Kurama! You’re not even dressed yet? We’re leaving now.”
“What? Already?”
Kurama snatched up his coat and pulled one boot on. He scanned the room for the
other one. Where was it? He proceeded to scamper around searching for the
other.
“It’s under the bed,” Maire said, shaking her head scoldingly.
Kurama’s eyes darted to where his sister pointed. Sure enough, there was his
boot. He pounced on it and thrust his foot into it.
“Are you ready now?”
“Yes. Let’s go.”
~
Kurama felt much better already sitting in the carriage with his family as
usual. He was so busy chatting with Eleanor that he didn’t even notice when
they passed the gate of Mr. Karasu’s plantation. His heart rose even more as
they rolled into town. He could already see the steeple of the Episcopal
church. This was how it should be. This was life back to normal. Kurama liked
going to church. It was a peaceful experience and the building and the ceremony
were beautiful to watch. Church was a place he always felt secure. He knew and
liked everyone there and they knew and liked him. And, of course, there was
plenty of music. Church was his sanctuary so why did the foreboding surround
him like a shroud of doom? What was that scent on the wind? It couldn’t be!
Kurama’s heart sank. There was Karasu standing on the church lawn talking to
old Miss Sadie. Why? Why did he have to be here? Kurama wanted to cry, scream,
something. He couldn’t though so he contented himself with placing his hand on
his chest, feeling the outline of his necklace through his shirt.
“Kurama.” He jumped and glanced at his concerned mother. He realized everyone
was already out of the carriage and they were waiting for him.
“Kurama, dear, are you feeling alright. You’re acting more distant than usual.
Are you sick?” Kurama sighed in irritation as his mother brushed his hair aside
and placed a hand on his forehead undoubtedly checking to see if he had a
fever.
“I’m fine,” Kurama grumbled, swatting his mother’s hand aside.
Mrs. Scarborough just smiled. “I know honey. I just can’t help worrying about
you. I’m your mother. It’s my job.”
Kurama weakly returned her smile. Despite the annoyance it caused, his mother’s
gesture did serve to lighten his mood. It comforted him that she was there
worrying about him. Karasu wouldn’t dare do anything to him under her watchful,
maternal vigil. He realized that if his parents found out what happened last
night, his father would probably be angry at him, but his mother would likely
murder Karasu for sullying her only son. Kurama’s lips spread into a smile at
the thought.
His mirth was short lived, however, for as he looked up, a predatory stare
pinned him immediately. He could move. He couldn’t breathe. He could almost
feel the other man’s hands on him again, holding him down, touching him where
he didn’t wish to be touched.
“Iiii! Kurama don’t you see?” Marie’s excited shriek brought Kurama back to the
land of the living.
“What am I supposed to see?” he asked, still wincing from the high-pitched
screech emitted from right behind him.
“Karasu was looking right at me. I wonder if he means to court me?”
Kurama sighed, “Well, good for you and you know, I’m sure he can hear you.”
Marie’s eyes went wide at the realization and clapped a hand over her mouth.
Confirming Kurama’s suspicions, Karasu laughed and walked off toward the church
steps.
“Oh my stars!” Marie whined, whipping out her fan and fanning herself
frantically. “I’m ruined. What he must think of me…”
Kurama watched, bewildered. “He probably just thinks you’re a little silly.”
“I know it. I know it. He’ll never want to marry me. Why, he’d be more likely
to marry you, Kurama. He seems to like you better than any of us. You two were
on the porch talking for an hour!”
Kurama’s mind scrambled for a response. “It was nothing,” he stammered. “He
probably was just glad to have someone listen to his stories. You know how old
people are.”
Marie huffed and muttered something about the fact that Kurama’s bad taste in
men was to be expected. Just then, the bells rang the hour and those on the
lawn filed into the building. Kurama tried to stay close to his parents. He
didn’t want to get stuck beside Karasu for an entire hour. The family entered
the building the headed for their regular pew. Kurama suppressed a groan. There
he was. Why did he have to choose their spot out of all the empty pews in the
church? It couldn’t be helped. Kurama managed to put Marie between Karasu and
himself, much to Marie’s delight.
Throughout the service, Kurama kept his eye carefully trained on the priest.
Still, he could feel those eyes on him from time to time. Marie obviously
thought that the gaze was for her but Kurama knew better, could feel the elder
man undressing him with his eyes. Kurama wished that Marie would just give up
this infatuation. It was now clear that Karasu desired him above all others.
As the congregation recited the Nicene Creed Kurama realized with dread what
part of the service approached: the Peace. Everyone would greet and shake hands
with the people around. He didn’t know how he would react to touching Karasu.
Even though he knew nothing bad would happen, it was the principle of the
thing. He didn’t know if he could deal with being touched by that man every
Sunday.
“May the peace of the Lord be with you.”
“And also with you.”
Kurama took a deep breath and plastered on a smile. It turned genuine as he
shook his parents’ hands and wished them peace. It was likewise for Eleanor and
even Marie. He turned around and greeted the family in the row behind. Maybe he
could avoid Karasu this week. It was too much to hope for. Karasu shook Marie’s
hand, causing her to giggle vapidly. Then he proffered his hand to Kurama. The
redhead reluctantly took it and, for that brief moment, two pairs of eyes met.
Kurama couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Karasu’s intoxicating scent washed over
him and he was lost. Then the moment was gone.
The priest called the congregation to order and the service continued as it
had. Kurama still felt the glances but, for some reason, they didn’t bother him
quite as much. He was too distracted with images of last night flitting through
his mind. Was it really so bad? He couldn’t deny that Karasu gave him great
pleasure indeed. The memory of those smooth, cool hands ghosting over his skin
sent a shiver down his back.
A concerned glance from his mother snapped Kurama back to reality. Great, now
she’d be completely convinced that he had a fever. He just shivered in the
midst of stifling summer heat. Their row went to communion then. Karasu did not
go up to the altar, forcing Kurama to brush past him. He fought another shiver
when their legs touched for the briefest instant. Kurama wondered why Karasu
didn’t want to take communion. That was what the whole service led up to after
all. He dismissed the abstention. He’d never know the reason so why wrack his
brain wondering? Thankfully, he went back to his seat from the other direction.
The rest of the service finished without incident.
When he escaped into the fresh air he went to find an out-of-the-way place to
wait for his parents to exchange pleasantries. His stomach rumbled. He wondered
what Henrietta cooked for Sunday dinner. He mused over all of the delicious
treats possibly awaiting him. He wished his parents would stop talking before
his stomach digested itself.
Just then, none other than Karasu walked into view. Kurama shrunk back into the
shadows. Then, to his surprise, Marie followed and Karasu took both her hands
in his.
“Maire darling, I have thought of nothing but you since we met. I realize now
that you are the one for me.”
What was he doing? Why was he kneeling down?
“Marie, will you marry me?”
“Yes! Yes, of course I will!”
An hour ago, Kurama was certain he hated this man. Why, then, did he feel
betrayed?
***** A Dark Obsession *****
Chapter Summary
     Kurama grapples with his conflicting feelings about Karasu and about
     himself.
Curtains fluttered in the early autumn breeze. Kurama paid them no heed. He had
more pressing matters to attend to. How could this happen? He asked himself
these questions every night but still had yet to find an answer. Well, he had
an answer but that simply couldn’t be it. He couldn’t accept that Karasu just
said that he loved him so that he could have relations with him. “No,” Kurama
thought, “He loves me. He has to love me. If he doesn’t, then that would mean…”
he never got farther than this. At this point, he’d always feel dirty. Still,
he couldn’t help himself.
His hand snaked under the sheet. He closed his eyes and caressed his thigh,
imagining that Karasu was touching him. The blood rushed to his neater regions.
He could feel himself getting hard. Kurama gripped his own length now. He
desperately wished to feel breath on his neck and a body over him. Kurama’s
hand moved up and down, digging him deeper into sin at a slow, sensuous pace.
The sheets tangled around long graceful legs. He thrust his hips as his pace
became more frantic. He just wanted that feeling again. He wanted to feel loved
again. Tears pricked at tightly shut eyes before racing down Kurama’s smooth,
flushed cheeks, stealing their warmth so that he could almost imagine that they
were Karasu’s cool fingers. In his frustration, he pumped his length harder. It
just wasn’t enough. He didn’t want to feel the pleasure only. He also wanted to
feel the firm thrusting into him. He wanted to feel something inside. He did
something different this time, something he’d though about all these weeks but
never had the courage to try.
He took a deep breath and shoved a finger into himself. It burned just as it
had that night and it took considerable effort not to let out a peep. This was
right. He shoved a second finger in despite the pain and began to thrust. It
still hurt. He remembered that Karasu had three fingers inside him so he forced
in another, he was now crying from physical pain rather than emotional. He kept
thrusting. It would feel good. Karasu made it feel good. Kurama experimented
with different angles and depths. Finally, a shallow thrust toward the front of
his body sent a shock of pleasure through him and a soft moan escaped. He
stopped for a moment, panting, straining to hear if he’d woken anyone. When he
heard no stirring, he put his free hand over his mouth and continued to jab at
that spot. His hips began to roll to meet his fingers and he wanted so badly to
remove his hand from his mouth in order to breathe better but he knew he
couldn’t with the way he was moaning. That now familiar feeling was building
within him. Kurama shoved his fingers into himself even harder. He longed for
release. He drove for it again and again until finally light flashed behind his
eyelids and faded back to black.
Kurama pulled his fingers out and grimaced when the pain returned. He sighed.
What he’d done felt good to his body but contained no emotional substance. He
didn’t feel loved. He felt alone and pitiful and perverted. As he drifted off
to sleep, he wished that Karasu never entered his life. “No,” a bitter voice
inside reminded, “ruined my life.” Tomorrow Karasu and Marie would be married,
binding him to Kurama forever. After tomorrow, there was no escape.
~
“Kurama, hurry and get more flowers,” his mother called. They were helping to
put the finishing touches on the church decorations. The guests would start
arriving any minute now. Kurama dabbed his forehead and upper lip with his
handkerchief. The weather was still stiflingly hot at this time of year and he
had spent most of the day running around, trying to keep up with everything he
needed to do to make Marie’s wedding absolutely perfect. He snatched the last
of the lilies from the sacristy and brought them to his mother.
“Thank you, dear. You’ve been such a help.” Kurama grinned as his mother
smoothed his tousled hair affectionately. “I declare, your face is as red as a
tomato in July. Go help Karasu get ready until you need to be back here. Maybe
you’ll cool down a little if you’re not running around.”
Kurama’s smile fell. He didn’t want to go anywhere near Karasu but, of course
he couldn’t tell his mother anything about that so he started of toward the
groom’s dressing room. Contrary to his mother’s wishes, Kurama felt his face
heat up and his heart beat faster the nearer he got to his destination. His
hand shook as he pushed the door open.
His breath froze. There Karasu stood, shirtless. He looked like a marble statue
in that moment and Kurama felt captivated once again.
“Come in, Kurama,” the smooth, sensuous voice floated in the air. Kurama didn’t
even realize he’d walked farther into the room until a cool caress on his cheek
made him jump. He realized then that he and Karasu were alone in the room.
“You look too warm, my dear,” Karasu cooed, slipping Kurama’s coat off and
beginning to unbutton his shirt.
“M-my mother told me to help you get ready for the ceremony,” Kurama stammered.

“And you are helping me,” Karasu argued, tossing Kurama’s shirt on a nearby
chair. Kurama shivered as Karasu took him in his arms and he found himself
leaning into the embrace both because the other man’s skin felt soothing in the
heat of the room and because it somehow felt right. He closed his eyes and
smiled at the feeling of a hand stroking his head, now resting on Karasu’s
shoulder.
“You see,” Karasu whispered, “I’m feeling tense and your presence is so very
calming. I wish I could marry you instead of your sister, but this way at least
I have an excuse to see you whenever I want. You’re so beautiful.”
Karasu raised Kurama’s face to look at him before capturing the boy’s lips.
Kurama responded immediately. He didn’t know what it was about this man that
attracted him so. He was so terrified of him yet desired him. He didn’t even
object when he felt his pants sliding down his legs and hands caressing his
bottom. Karasu moaned into the kiss and gripped harder, pulling Kurama closer.
He didn’t even question when Karasu handed him a cruet of oil and commanded him
to prepare himself. The fact that this was probably holy oil didn’t faze him a
bit at the moment. He poured some onto his fingers and hastily shoved them into
himself.
Karasu took his arms and moved him to lie on his back on the floor, legs
splayed obscenely. “That’s it,” he muttered, leaning forward over Kurama’s body
to nibble lightly on his shoulder. Kurama moaned softy and Karasu bit down
harder. At Kurama’s gasp he released the flesh and lapped at the blood oozing
from the wound. Kurama sighed as though the pain was the most comforting thing
he’d ever felt. The moans returned, however, when Karasu undid his own pants.
He dove in just in time to swallow Kurama’s cry of surprise. Upon releasing the
young one’s mouth, he whispered, “Stay quiet for me won’t you, darling?” Kurama
nodded and Karasu began to thrust into him.
They had 90 minutes until Kurama had to take his place as best man. Karasu
spent 60 of those minutes pounding into the sweet body. By the time Kurama was
dressed again and returning to his family, he wasn’t sure if he was light
headed because of Karasu’s tendency to bite him during sex or because of having
three orgasms.
“Kurama! Where have you been?” asked Eleanor, who was to be the maid of honor.
“I was helping the groom get ready for the ceremony.”
Eleanor giggled. “I guess it’s okay if we call him Karasu. He will be our
brother after all.”
A shiver ran down Kurama’s spine. He’d never thought of it that way. He’d just
had sex with his brother-in-law-to-be. It didn’t seem like this would be the
last encounter of that sort either. It was so improper. That was the type of
thing one would expect in the mountains, not here among civilized Piedmont
folk.
“Are you alright?” Kurama belatedly realized that Eleanor had been watching him
the whole time.
“I’m fine,” Kurama answered but his sister didn’t look convinced. She reached
foreword and placed a hand on his forehead. You feel warm and you’re very pale.
I’ll be right back.”
Kurama frowned as his sister hurried off without any explanation. He figured
all he could do was to stay put until she returned. Fortunately, she wasn’t
gone long. Eleanor returned a minute later.
“Here.”
Kurama smiled as he took the proffered cup and took a sip. Eleanor had been
kind enough to bring him some lemonade and he had to admit that he felt much
better now and he said so.
“What would you do without me?”
“Die of thirst I guess,” Kurama chuckled.
Kurama honestly felt good. He knew he had no right to. As Eleanor returned his
cup to its rightful place, guilt began to creep into Kurama’s consciousness.
That old feeling was returning, that dirty feeling. It seemed like the only
time he escaped it was when he was with Karasu.
He pondered on this even after the wedding began. Even as he watched Karasu
pledge eternal devotion to another, we couldn’t help but wonder if Karasu
needed him just as he seemed to need Karasu. Did the elder also feel cleansed
by Kurama? Was he cheating Marie by letting her go through with this when he
knew Karasu actually loved him?
By the time the happy couple walked out of the church side by side, Kurama was
back to feeling like a rat again. He felt even worse when Karasu flashed him a
smile on their way to the reception picnic.
He couldn’t face the world. He couldn’t face Marie. But most of all he couldn’t
face himself.
***** A Change in the Wind *****
Chapter Summary
     Karasu and Marie are coming back from their honeymoon. Kurama begins
     to re-evaluate his desire for Karasu.
Kurama had been staring at the same page for the last hour and a half. He sat
curled up on the window seat in his room, his forehead resting against the cool
glass pane. The eastern horizon drew his gaze. Karasu was there, over the
earth’s curve. He and Marie were still on their honeymoon on the coast and
Kurama couldn’t help but think that he should be out there, feeling the chill
ocean breeze on his face, instead of Marie. He watched with half-interest a
withered leaf drop into the dust of the front drive. Kurama could stand this no
more.
He tossed his book aside and leapt to his feet. Stealthily, he tiptoed across
the hall into Maire’s vacated room. All her things remained just as the day she
left. Kurama knew exactly what he was looking for. He shut the door and quickly
stripped down. With a few last deep breaths, he struggled into a corset and
hoop, tying the corset as tightly as he could from his odd angle. Then he
reached into the wardrobe and took out Marie’s wedding dress. He carefully
slipped it over his head and when he’d done up the fastenings, he cautiously
stepped over to the mirror.
A smile played at the corners of his mouth. Karasu was right. He was beautiful,
more beautiful even than Marie. He also noticed with pride that the dress was
too short. Now that he thought about it, it made sense that he’d be taller. His
voice had deepened since that fateful summer day when Karasu gave him his first
kiss, and he had plucked plenty of hairs off his face recently. Soon he knew he
would have to break down and just start shaving. He felt justified and hurt at
the same time. He knew for sure now that Marie would live a life rightfully
his, but at least he could be certain that these feelings were not simply
juvenile pining for Karasu. Karasu wanted him too.
Resolved in this, he took off the dress and, once back in his normal attire, he
skipped down the stairs only to plop onto the piano bench. He began to practice
the piece he’d been working on all week but it somehow felt too somber. He was
in a good mood and the sun had finally peaked out from the cloud-cover, bathing
him in golden warmth. Unable to continue with his current piece, Kurama broke
into a cheerful folk song.
He smiled when he reached the second verse and a familiar voice joined in. He
grinned at Eleanor as he played and she smiled back. In his joy, Kurama piped
up when tthey got to the chorus. This earned him a whack on the head. He
stopped playing to rub his stinging scalp. However, his smile didn’t falter.
His singing was officially banned from the house after his mother declared him
incapable of carrying a tune.
“Your singing sounds especially ghastly today,” Eleanor commented. “That must
mean something good’s happened.”
Kurama’s grin widened. “I think I’ve grown another inch!”
“Let me see.”
Kurama stood up and stepped toward his sister until they were toe to toe.
“Why, I do believe you’re right! Your mouth is at eye level now. Thank God! I
thought I’d be staring at that horrid nose forever.”
It was Eleanor’s turn for a whack.
“You hit a lady, you beast!”
“You’re not a lady yet. We’re kids after all.”
Eleanor’s expression turned serious. “Kurama, I was just going to tell you that
father said I could go with him to Raleigh in the spring.”
“That sounds like fun. Why didn’t you ask if I could go too?”
“I don’t mean to come back.”
“What? Why?”
“I hope I’ll find a husband there.”
Kurama’s heart sank. His sister was his best friend in the world. He couldn’t
imagine life without her.
Noticing her brother’s distress, Eleanor tried to comfort him.
“Don’t worry, Kurama. You’re growing onto such a handsome man. Soon you’ll find
a pretty lady that will make you forget all about me and I’ll have to pester
you to visit.”
Kurama’s mood didn’t brighten. Perhaps she was right but the real question was,
could this person make him forget about Karasu.
~
“Could you grab those dresses, Henrietta?”
“Why sure, Ma’am.”
“Rory. Rory! Rory!!!”
Kurama jumped. “I’m sorry, Mother. You hardly ever use my real name.”
“I know, dear,” Mrs. Scarborough sighed. “My mind is all turned around in
circles. Would you and go with this next cart load and help Marie out?”
Kurama nodded and went to get into the cart before there was no room for him.
The countryside was abuzz now that Marie and Karasu were back from their
honeymoon. All of Marie’s things had to be transported to her new home. Kurama
scowled at the pile of things in the back of the cart. There was no room for
him as it was so he jumped up to the seat at the front beside old George,
wondering how all this stuff ever fit in the house. The aged slave smiled at
him and he returned the gesture.
He remembered the days when George would ruffle his hair and tell him stories
passed down from Africa and he wished that childish innocence could have gone
on forever, but that’s not how things worked. Now that Kurama was older, the
slaves all maintained a respectful distance. Kurama would be the master one
day. He knew they all thought that Kurama would grow up to be like his father,
stern and heavy-handed, but Kurama had other plans. He’d played with the slave
children. He grew up with them and he still remembered their names and he still
cried when they were sold. Yes, Kurama vowed that things would be different
once he made the rules.
“You look mighty pleased, Master Rory. You must be glad to see your sister
again,” George commented.
“Yes. The time’s gone fast though. I can’t believe it’s winter already. It
seems like it’ll be cold this year. I’ll talk to father about getting some
extra fire wood to the cabins.”
George’s smile widened. “Why, thank you, kindly. That’s right nice of you.”
The wagon lurched forward and they started toward the gate.
“It’s no trouble,” Kurama muttered, worry overtaking him. “No one should have
to freeze in the snow.”
He had no idea how he would feel seeing Karasu again. Already he felt jealous
of Marie. He only hoped he could contain his emotions enough to avoid ruining
his relationship with his sister.
When the cart pulled up to the door of the house, Kurama hopped out without
hesitation and took a load of dresses into his arms. He just wanted to get this
over with. The more he thought about seeing Karasu the more he wanted to sprint
straight home.
Shifting the dresses on to one arm, he opened the screen door and started up
the stairs toward Karasu’s room. Belatedly, Kurama realized that he really
shouldn’t know where he was going. For all anyone else knew, he’d never set
foot in this house before.
Fortunately, he hadn’t gone far down the hall when Marie poked her head around
the bedroom door frame. A piercing, girly screech split the air. Kurama gasped
for air in his sister’s crushing embrace.
“Oh, my lord! Kurama! I’ve missed you so much and look how you’ve grown. I must
throw a party! You’ll give every girl there the vapors for sure. Oh! Can I plan
your wedding?”
“Marie,” Kurama gasped. “You’re wrinkling your dresses.”
Kurama knew by now what motivated Maire. The excited young woman let her
brother go immediately and snatched the dresses away. Kurama followed her into
the room.
“Hello, Kurama,” Eleanor greeted when he entered. She was busy arraigning
Marie’s brushes and combs. Kurama waved distractedly, eyes darting around the
room.
“Are you alright?” Eleanor asked. “You look kind of…confused.”
Indeed, Kurama was confused. The room bore very little resemblance to the one
in which Karasu first made love to him. His eyes flicked over to the bed and he
shivered. Marie would never know that she was not the first person with whom
Karasu shared that bed. At least, Kurama hoped she’d never know.
“Kurama?”
“Sorry. It’s just… I mean, I can’t quite picture Karasu sleeping in this room.
It’s so…frilly. It wasn’t always this way, was it?”
“No, no,” Marie prattled. “It was so drab and cold before. I’ve tried to make
the best of it though. I’m sure Karasu will thank me. It was simply intolerable
before. Don’t you think so Eleanor?”
Eleanor looked like frightened deer. “Uh…It was…I don’t know. I really do
prefer green to pink.”
“I suppose it doesn’t matter. You’re not living here anyway.” Maire then
hurried downstairs to direct the slaves as they brought in her wardrobe.
“It was so much better before, the room I mean,” Eleanor sighed. “Karasu has
nice taste for a man, actually. I think I’d cry if I walked into my room and
saw this.”
“I almost did cry when I walked in,” Kurama giggled. “This is horrible.” He
walked over to the lace curtains and poked one of the giant, pink, velvet bows
as if it might bite him.
The two then scurried onto the bed to avoid the gargantuan wardrobe progressing
across the room.
“That’s it. Put it in that corner,” Marie instructed from the doorway. “Kurama,
Eleanor, would you mind getting the rest of my dresses now that the wardrobe’s
here?”
The siblings nodded and hurried outside, eager for some fresh air.
Right away, they set about gathering up the remaining garments.
“My arms are full. Can you get the rest?”
Kurama nodded and Eleanor started back toward the door.
“Hello, Karasu. Where have you been?”
Kurama didn’t look up. He didn’t want to see him.
“I’ve been at the stables getting Marie’s horse settled in her stall. Is Marie
almost finished inside?”
“Yes, but I don’t know if you’ll want to see what she’s done to your room,”
Eleanor warned.
“Oh, it can’t be that bad.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want to wake up in that every day. That’s for sure.”
The screen door thudded shut. Kurama became acutely aware that he was being
watched. He could hide no longer. He gathered the last item and straightened
up. The first thing he saw were those keen, violet eyes staring straight into
his.
“My, how you’ve gown. You’re even lovelier than when I left.”
Kurama refused to be drawn in. “Marie says so too.” With that, he headed
straight for the door, but a strong hand on his shoulder halted his progress.
“I hope to re-familiarize myself with that gorgeous body of yours.”
Anger blazed in Kurama’s heart and he whirled to meet the other’s hungry gaze.
To his satisfaction, Karasu flinched a bit. Kurama had grown nearly two inches
since they’d met and was now almost eye to eye with Karasu.
“You can hope all you want,” Kurama bit out before wrenching his shoulder from
Karasu’s grip and disappearing into the house.
~
Kurama’s elegant fingers danced over the keyboard. His tunes had been
melancholy as of late. He missed Marie. He only saw her now when she visited.
He simply couldn’t go back to that house. What if Karasu caught him alone? He
didn’t know if he was strong enough to resist him if it came to force. He was
certain now that Karasu would use force if he continued to resist.
He sighed and channeled his feelings into his music. He could faintly hear
voices from the kitchen. Eleanor had asked Henrietta to teach her to make
biscuits. Just then, there was a knock on the door. Mrs. Scarborough ran to the
door, arriving just before one of the slaves.
“It’s alright, Josephine. I have it,” she assured the slave. When she opened
the door, one of the house slaves from Karasu’s plantation stood at the door.
“I’m afraid I have bad news. I’m terribly sorry, Mrs. Scarborough.”
He handed over a letter written in Karasu’s distinctive penmanship. Mrs.
Scarborough bade the slave come in and asked Josephine to take him to the
kitchen for some bread and milk until she could write a reply.
Kurama stopped playing when he heard his mother sob and run off toward Mr.
Scarborough’s study. He stood up from the piano bench and rushed into the
kitchen. Something was very wrong and he needed to be near his sister.
“Kurama? What are you doing here?” Eleanor inquired.
“We got a letter from Karasu. Mother cried when she read it.”
Eleanor’s face fell and she struggled out of her apron. Henrietta brushed some
flower off Eleanor’s dress and shooed her out of the kitchen.
They ran into the foyer just as their parents walked out of the study. To their
horror, their father was wiping tears off his cheeks.
“I-is Marie alright?” Eleanor asked cautiously.
Mrs. Scarborough hugged her daughter close. “Marie fell off her horse this
morning. She…Her back broke.”
Kurama shook his head in disbelief. “Will she ever walk again?”
Mr. Scarborough spoke up. “No, Son. Marie will never do anything again. She’s
dead.”
***** Not a Crow, but a Bat *****
Chapter Summary
     Kurama finally discovers Karasu's true identity.
Kurama swallowed his tears as the carriage bumped down the drive toward the
plantation gate. His heart ached with regret. He wished he had gone to see
Marie while he could. Once again, Karasu found another way to ruin his life. If
it weren’t for him, Kurama might have had many more happy days with his sister.
Now Marie was gone.
Kurama shivered as the house neared. He glanced around at his remaining family
for comfort. Eleanor sat beside him, holding his hand. The two had been
attached at the hip since getting the news of Marie’s death. They just couldn’t
bear the thought of further separation.
The tension in the air was so thick, Kurama could swear he was drowning in it.
The carriage came to a stop in front of that dreaded house. Eleanor squeezed
her brother’s hand and the two siblings descended to the ground together. They
had an unspoken agreement to face united the death they both knew lay behind
the looming front door.
With a deep breath, Kurama knocked. The door opened almost immediately and a
slave showed them into the drawing room. There Karasu sat. He looked dejected
but Kurama knew he was acting. The rest of the family seemed fooled though, and
they exchanged teary-eyed condolences. The sight made Kurama sick. It was fake!
Karasu was pretending! Couldn’t they all see it? He still had that mischievous
twinkle in this eye. But then, they didn’t know the dark man’s sinister side as
Kurama did.
The boy followed his family up the stairs and into the bedroom. It was still
decked out in lace and pink just as they left it so many months ago. There was
a distinct difference, however. Kurama choked back his tears at the sight of
Marie’s lifeless body resting on the bed. In that moment, he decided he hated
that bed as much as he hated Karasu. It seemed like the very worst moments in
his life all involved that accursed bed. “We should begin the funeral
preparations,” Mrs. Scarborough huffed, obviously attempting to swallow her
sorrow. All of a sudden, she began calling out instructions and everyone
scattered. A funeral in the South was a big to do.
Kurama rushed into the study to prepare invitations. His mother must really
have been flustered to ask him to do this. Everyone knew his handwriting was
atrocious. Yet he set to work diligently to make these invitations the most
beautiful things he’d ever written. It was all he could do for Marie now.
~
Kurama’s hand ached. The light of the setting sun colored the snowy paper an
ominous russet. It didn’t help matters at Karasu’s intoxicating scent lingered
in the man’s study, making Kurama drowsy. He forced himself to finish the last
few flourishes on the final invitation. He’d written one to everyone he could
think of. A satisfied feeling radiated though him as he set the letter on the
stack. He took a deep breath, preparing to stand up, and gasped.
“Karasu! I…um…I didn’t notice you were…”
“You were absorbed in your task. I forgive you.”
How long had he been watching?
“I have to take these letters to be delivered,” he abruptly rose and pushed
past Karasu. The older man caught him by the shoulder and spun him around.
Kurama’s eyes blazed with indignation. He summoned up a retort but he didn’t
get a chance to voice it. As soon as he opened his mouth, Karasu’s locked with
his. Kurama shoved him back with all his strength and, for a moment, Karasu
looked genuinely frightened.
“Your actions are an insult to my sister’s memory,” Kurama spat before running
from the room.
He sprinted into the parlor where his mother sat sullenly by the window. She
turned her gaze to her son when he entered and smiled weakly at the sight of
the pile of papers he carried. Without a word, she took them and flipped
through the first few.
“They look lovely, Kurama,” she said softy. Kurama couldn’t stifle the warm
glow he felt at making his mother happy. “Tell you sister we’ll be leaving in
about 20 minutes.” Kurama opened his mouth to ask which sister, but then closed
it quickly. He had only one sister.
He bounded up the stairs to where Eleanor kept vigil over Marie’s body. She was
just where he left her, perched on the chair in the corner. She was no longer
sobbing. Eleanor simply sat there looking utterly dejected and unable to tear
her eyes away from her sister’s body. It was as if she thought that if she kept
looking that she might catch a movement, evidence that this nightmare wasn’t
real.
Kurama knocked softly on the door frame so as not to surprise her. She sprang
up at the sight of her remaining sibling and buried her face in his shoulder.
She began to cry all over again and Kurama found it difficult to contain his
own sorrow any longer. A tear crept out of the corner of his eye. “Men
shouldn’t cry. Men shouldn’t cry,” he repeated to himself, but the tears kept
flowing. It was as though his sorrow was so great that it no longer fit inside
him and leaked out his eyes.
“I can’t believe she’s gone,” Eleanor murmured as she let Kurama go. Kurama
sighed in response and made his way over to the bed. In a way, he too had
trouble grasping his sister’s death. He reached out and cautiously touched the
pale hand. It was cool and it reminded Kurama oddly of the way Karasu’s hand
felt. He drew away quickly and, on some inexplicable whim, checked for a pulse
at Marie’s neck. Maybe she wasn’t dead. She could just be unconscious.
There was nothing. He hadn’t really expected there to be, but he did find
something…interesting. There were two puncture wounds right along the vein
about three finger-widths apart. Perhaps she fell on a stick. Then Kurama
noticed something else, or rather didn’t notice it. There should be some
evidence of blood pooling along her back. The mortician wouldn’t take her away
until morning yet there was almost no blood in her body. Something was wrong
about all of this and Kurama vowed that he was going to find out what.
~
Kurama lit the candle on his dresser. He had to solve this mystery. He knew
that something wasn’t right about Marie’s death. Karasu wasn’t being completely
honest. That much was for certain. Kurama vowed to find the truth. He took the
candle, tiptoed down the stairs, and headed for the library. There had to be a
book about that really killed Marie.
He managed to get down the stairs without detection and scamper into the
library. The only sounds breaking the silence were the swish of his robe and
the padding of his slippers on the floor. It was eerie. Kurama had never been
out of bed alone this late at night. He couldn’t see past the circle of light
his candle carved out if the blackness. As he searched the leather-bound
volumes, he half expected Karasu to jump out at him and drag him to his doom.
When he’d assembled a veritable throng of medical texts, he plopped down in a
chair to pour over them. He had to find something that would explain the body’s
lack of blood.
He researched everything he could think of that might offer an explanation. It
just didn’t make sense that someone could lose that much blood out of two tiny
holes. Kurama’s eyes burned and every muscle in his body ached with exhaustion.
Finally, he finished searching all the books on the desk so he returned them to
their proper places.
“Maybe I’m thinking about this wrong,” he muttered to himself. He scanned the
shelves for something that might contain any clues. Karasu said Marie broke her
back. Maybe he was telling the truth. Kurama pulled some books relating to
that, and Magical Beings just to clear his mind for moment. He could feel his
brain turning to mush in his skull. It might do him some good to read about
something else for a while.
He opened the book to a random page. The article he opened to was about the
kappa. Kurama giggled at the picture and read on. This creature lived in Japan
so he didn’t have to worry about it. As funny as it looked, he didn’t like the
idea of being eviscerated if he couldn’t get the thing to bow. He flipped
forward.
The Pukka: that was from Ireland. Perhaps his great-grandfather, Rory
Scarborough IV encountered this horse spirit back in the old country.
He flipped forward again, and nearly dropped the book. Karasu’s piercing stare
bored into him. No. The picture wasn’t Karasu but there were distinct
similarities, not the least of which was the sinister glint in the eyes. Kurama
read the title of the article: Vampire.
According to the article, these creatures look human except for a few anomalous
qualities, the most notable being a pair of fangs in place of their eyeteeth.
Kurama’s eyes widened as he thought back to the few kisses he’d shared with
Karasu. Yes, now that he thought about it, he felt fangs. At the time, the
unexpectedness of these advances precluded any thought to his assailant’s
dental oddities. Kurama eagerly read on.
A vampire is exceptionally pale and often wears formal attire. That was
defiantly true of Karasu as well. Even in the muggy Carolina sun he remained
completely covered in thick fabric even to the point of wearing gloves and a
hat. Reading on, Kurama realized that this strange habit had yet a deeper
meaning. A vampire’s greatest threat is the sun. It will burn any exposed skin.
Most vampires fall into a deathlike sleep during the day but as they gain age
and power, some can overcome this sleep and even venture into daylight if
heavily protected.
“So that’s why he wanted to meet me after sunset,” he whispered to himself. “He
could only remove his clothes at night.”
Kurama’s brow knitted at reading that vampires could not touch anything holy.
Karasu attended church. How could he touch the bread and wine at communion?
Then he remembered that Karasu hadn’t taken communion. Still, that was
something to go on. Kurama wondered if he could get a hold of some holy water,
something to carry with him as a defense. He read on. Vampires also possess a
hypnotic power to lull their victims into submission. At reading this, Kurama
didn’t feel quite so silly and weak. It wasn’t mere charisma that drew him to
Karasu but vampiric magnetism.
Not finding anything else useful in the article, Kurama put the book away and
sat back in his chair. He fiddled absentmindedly with his necklace as he
thought. There was no way that he could carry around a clove of garlic. He’d
repel more than vampires. And Karasu had a standing invitation to the
Scarborough home so it didn’t matter if Karasu couldn’t enter a house
uninvited. There had to be something that could protect him. His fingers
agitatedly traced the form of the silver cross charm. His eyes widened.
He’d been wearing this cross the night Karasu took him. Why didn’t that keep
him away? Why didn’t it burn him?
“Because he never touched it,” Kurama answered his own questions. “He must have
used the fabric of my shirt to shield his skin.”
That would mean that a vampire killed Marie. He cringed at the thought of
malevolent fangs piercing his beloved sister. Did she know the truth before the
end? Was she afraid? A scenario materialized before his mind’s eye: Marie
struggling vainly in a supernaturally strong embrace, begging for mercy as the
life slowly drained from her. He felt tears well up in his eyes and he buried
his face in his folded arms. How could this happen?
Then a sudden thought made Kurama sit bolt upright. Karasu wanted him. A
vampire was after him. He clutched almost desperately at his cross charm as the
shadows began to morph and swim around him. Any one of them could conceal a
prowling hunter. Hyperventilating, Kurama leaped out of his chair and sprinted
up the stairs. Even though he was now safe in him own room, huddled under the
blankets, Kurama knew he wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight.
***** Turnabout is Fair Play *****
Chapter Summary
     When Karasu encroaches on Kurama's family yet again, Kurama confronts
     him.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Kurama felt ashamed at sobbing in front of the entire town but he couldn’t help
it. Marie looked so beautiful laying there in the coffin. He found himself
subconsciously pleading that she would just get up. It seemed so likely to
happen, yet deep in his soul, he knew it wouldn’t. That was, perhaps, what was
the most painful aspect of the funeral.
When it was his turn to pay his last respects, to stand before the coffin, all
he could manage was a choked ‘goodbye’. The rest of his family was only
slightly more articulate. Really though, what was there to say? In a matter of
minutes, the coffin lid would close and Maire would be truly gone forever.
Kurama watched with a wary eye as Karasu tenderly caressed the lifeless cheek.
It made him sick. He wanted to scream, attack, to something. He had no right to
touch her. He killed her! That tainted murderer’s hand should never sully
something so pure. Karasu turned away from the coffin and when he did, he
caught Kurama’s gaze. The hungry look that flashed there for the briefest
millisecond was not one that belonged on the face of a grieving widower. Karasu
had been acting the part all along but Kurama knew better. He had to expose
this fraud before he hurt someone else. The only problem was that, if he told
anyone that Karasu was a vampire, he’d be sent straight to the loony bin.
A dismal cloud of despair settled over him as the coffin lid thudded shut with
sickening finality. He followed the procession out to the graveyard. The sun
shone down warm, coloring everything with it soft, golden light. Sniffing and
wiping tears from his cheeks, Kurama mentally cursed the world. How could it be
so cheerful when everything was going so very wrong? Karasu was trying to catch
his eye again. He could feel the man’s stare, so he glared back, letting his
pain and rage show. To his surprise, Karasu backed down and averted his gaze
for the rest of the service.
Kurama knew it would be hard to live without Marie, he just never thought it
would be like this. He never realized how much a part of his life Marie was,
even though she hadn’t lived at home in months. It seemed that everywhere there
were things that she liked or things he wanted to ask her or times he expected
her to come bounding into the room to annoy him. Even good moments brought him
grief. When something happy or funny happened, his first thought was always, “I
can’t wait to tell Marie.”
Without the hectic funeral preparations to keep him grounded, Kurama became
completely absorbed in his music. He played all day, and at night he wrote all
manner of sonatas and concertos, pain surging out of him in the form of sound.
He barely ate or slept. He knew his family worried about him, but he simply
couldn’t drag himself back to the real world.
Eleanor took to going out often. He had no idea where she went. While he cared,
he couldn’t bring himself to ask. Sometimes his family would talk to him as he
sat writing. He heard everything they said, whether they thought he did or not,
but he had no will to respond, until one afternoon.
Eleanor caught him completely unaware, tackling him in a hug. “Kurama! You’ll
never guess what happened!”
To her surprise, Kurama turned from his playing to listen intently. Thus
encouraged, she continued. “You know how I’ve been spending so much time with
Karasu?”
A chill ran down Kurama’s spine. No, he hadn’t known. If he had, he’d have put
a stop to it right away. He nodded anyway, urging his sister to explain
further.
“Well, he said that my presence has been soothing to him, and I’ve helped him
with his feelings of loss. Kurama, he’s really to get married again.”
Kurama’s heart rose. Maybe now that he’d found someone else, he’d leave them
alone.
“Whom does he want to marry?”
Eleanor’s shock was visible this time. It was the most Kurama had said in
weeks, but so great was her joy that she recovered quickly and answered
excitedly, “Me! He asked me to marry him! Isn’t this wonderful? Now I can live
near you for always.”
“No…”
“I didn’t catch that.”
“No.” Kurama felt the hand of dread closing around him. This couldn’t happen.
“Kurama, I…”
“No! I can’t lose you too. It’s him! Don’t you see?” His breath was fast and
shallow. His eyes darted about as if looking for a way to escape this horrific
truth.
“What’s him? Kurama, what are you talking about?”
“No, not Eleanor. I have to stop him!”
Without another word, he sprinted from the room and out the front door. He
didn’t stop before he burst, gasping for air, into Karasu’s drawing room. He
squinted in the dim light. He didn’t see anyone there. He ventured up the
stairs. Maybe he was taking a nap.
“Of course, he’s taking a nap,” Kurama thought to himself. “The sun hasn’t
set.”
As he turned the doorknob, he realized what a stupid idea this was. The pink
was gone and the room was as he first saw it. The red light of the low hanging
sun shone through the west-facing window onto a glossy, black coffin resting on
the floor. That most defiantly wasn’t there before.
“Oh, my God! He really is a vampire,” Kurama gasped. He began to back away,
knowing now that he was in way over his head.
The room darkened and just then, the coffin lid creaked open. A half-strangled
sob escaped Kurama’s lips as he turned and fled. He never even made it to the
door before Karasu was upon him.
“So, you know my little secret,” came the whisper. “Perhaps I underestimated
you.”
“You won’t marry my sister.”
“I will, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”
“I’ll die before I let you have her.”
“If that’s the way it must be…”
Kurama sailed through the air and landed on the bed. He scampered toward the
edge but Karasu pinned him down.
“I’d like to have you just once more.”
Kurama kicked and squirmed but to no avail. His pants were discarded in an
instant. He screamed desperately for help even though he knew no one could hear
him. Then he felt as though he were splitting in half. This was far more
painful than the first time. Karasu gave him no preparation.
Kurama’s mind scrambled for something, anything that could help him. Then, his
situation got even worse. Karasu leaned down, bearing his fangs. Kurama covered
his neck but to no avail. Then, he remembered his one defense. He pressed his
silver cross into the nearest bit of vampiric flesh. Karasu cried out in
surprise and drew back from him. Kurama seized this moment and made his escape.
He didn’t care that his bottom half was completely bare as the ran across the
room, through the door and down the hall. He had to get away or he’d be dead
for sure. Skidding around the corner, Kurama sprinted down the stairs. Karasu
was after him, now. He reached for the front door and then bang! His face hit
the floor. He slid backwards, pulled by his ankles.
Desperately, Kurama clawed at the wooden planks, screaming and crying. This
couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t die now. His face thudded painfully against
the first stair, and then the next, and the next. Though he fought to keep his
head up it was no use. Karasu was dragging him too fast. Even latching onto a
step did no good. All that accomplished was a sharp yank that sheared off skin
and cracked bone. Still he fought.
Despite all his efforts, he ended up back on that terrible bed, broken and
bleeding. Karasu ripped the cross from Kurama’s neck, ignoring the burn, and
tossed it away. All the lovely redhead could do was cry softly as the life
drained from his body. His last words gently stirred his killer’s glossy black
hair: “I’m sorry, Elenore.”
Chapter End Notes
     There is an epilogue.
     The title refers to the fact that Kurama dies the way Karasu does in
     the YYH series.
***** Epilogue *****
Chapter Summary
     Kurama is dead. What will become of Eleanor?
It’s the spring of my 310th year on this earth, and by now I don’t even notice
the beauty of the world around me. Today, however, I can’t help but do just
that. The blossoming trees seem so right, as though the casket I follow through
the cemetery cannot contain the beauty resting therein.
Kurama was the loveliest creature I’ve ever laid eyes upon. It’s a shame my
time with him was so short, but he was too beautiful and too intelligent for
this world. There is too much power in that combination. So, I say farewell and
content myself with his other sister. I hope for her sake she isn’t as smart as
her siblings were.
Marie found out my secret too. She seemed the dumbest of the three, but I now
see that that’s still quite smart. She noticed that I was always gone during
the day and I told her I was working and shouldn’t be disturbed. Early that
fateful morning, the willful girl came to me anyway and saw the coffin, even
opened it. The sunlight from the window began to burn my skin. Roused from my
slumber, I closed the drapes. I knew she had to go and so I drank her blood,
drank it until she died. Seeming distraught and concocting a story was all too
easy. Untimely deaths happen every day, after all.
Killing Kurama saddened me far more. I wish he had fallen fully under my
hypnosis. I wish he could have accepted me and become my human minion. I would
have taken such good care of him, given him everything he could ever want. When
I saw the way he looked at me at Marie’s funeral, I knew that could never be.
He too was willful. Marie seemed stupid; Kurama seemed weak. I know now that
these siblings are more than they seem. I know this with utter certainly as I
watch the last bit of dirt fall into place over Kurama’s grave.
After I killed the boy, I took his body and dumped it into a deep river bed. I
was careful to throw that blasted necklace down there with him. If searchers
didn’t find it near the body, they’d know something was amiss. When they did
find him, everyone mourned the loss. Some think he fell down there in the dim
evening light. Others think it was suicide. I don’t care what they think. No
one thinks I killed him, and that’s what’s important. On the contrary, they
offer me their deepest condolences at losing a dear friend so soon after losing
my wife.
As the throng of people that loved Kurama head away from the cemetery to drown
their sorrow in food and drink, Eleanor approaches me. I can’t hold back my
smile at the sight of her. I have one more Scarborough left and she has the
same understated beauty as her brother. Her eyes shine with unshed tears and I
open my arms to her invitingly. She runs to me and sobs into my chest. Oh, how
I wish this were Kurama I hold. I chide myself. There is no point in dwelling
on things I cannot change. I have an eternity ahead of me and many things will
pass away in that time.
“Karasu,” Eleanor’s muffled voice speaks my name. I place a finger under her
chin and lift her face so I can see it properly.
“What is it, my dearest?”
She steps back and takes a moment to compose herself.
“Karasu, I can’t marry you. I…I can’t be here anymore, not with Kurama and
Marie gone. I’ve made plans to live with my aunt and uncle in Asheville.”
I didn’t anticipate this! Asheville is in the mountains, hundreds of miles
away. Perhaps…
“Perhaps I can go with you. We can start a new life there.”
She shakes her head. “I can’t and that’s final. I just can’t. I’m sorry.”
“But I love you!” It’s worth a try. If anything would make her stay, that
would.
“I don’t…think you do.” My heart would have stopped if it were beating to begin
with. She looks so like Kurama, the way her green eyes narrow and her brow
furrows ever so slightly. But what is that? It’s that cross! She wears Kurama’s
cross charm around her neck on a new chain. It glints in the sunlight the same
way Kurama’s eyes might glint with mirth.
I’ve lost, haven’t I? I subdued and killed that boy, but he won, and wherever
he is, he knows it. He knows that his beauty will haunt me all my endless
nights. He knows he saved Eleanor.
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