Authors' note: This takes place after the incident with the Netherworld god, Yakumo. Also, "chimera" is the word given to those of Kuronue's race. The fic itself is a bit long, which wasn't expected when it was started, but we've already gotten good comments about it, and we're proud to post it for your yaoi-loving eyes. Arigatou and enjoy!
Koko wandered into Kurama's bedroom, intent on asking his cousin what he could do next. He'd already exhausted his normal pastimes. The coloring books were completely filled with scribbles, the play-dough had been neatly sculped into warped re-creations of Kurama and Hiei, the fire demon's hair was knotted for the day, Kurama's room was strewn with toys and cars, and the house was a mess. Now, he was bored and he looked to his mentor for guidance in the next thing to destroy. When he spoke the redhead's name, however, he got no response.
Curious, he hopped onto Kurama's bed to be more on the quiet kitsune's level. Kurama was standing at his dressing table, gazing intently, almost tearfully at something in the palm of his hand. Koko leapt off the bed and dragged Kurama's desk chair over to where his cousin stood. Climbing onto it, he got a closer look at what Kurama was holding. It was a small, ruby pendant on a silver chain. Koko glanced from the necklace to his cousin, a questioning look on his face at the tears in the huge green eyes.
"Why are you so sad, Cousin Kurama?" Koko asked innocently.
Kurama blinked, turning to Koko, obviously unaware that the kit had been there. He closed his fingers over the necklace and brought his eyes to his young cousin.
"Sorry, Koko...I...I just found something that belonged to a friend of mine," Kurama said, clearing his throat.
"Can I see it?" Koko asked, his usual curiosity overriding the urge to give Kurama a gigantic hug.
Reluctantly, Kurama uncurled his fist and held his palm out to show the kitsune the necklace. Kuronue's necklace...
"Kuronue..." Kurama whispered.
Koko paused in his admiration of the pendant to look up at his wistful cousin. "Was that your friend, Kurama? Kuronue?"
"Yes, Koko. He died...a long time ago." Kurama drew his hand back to hold the necklace to him. "This is all I have left of him."
Koko tipped his head to one side, looking at Kurama with intense violet eyes. "Did you love him, Cousin Kurama?"
Kurama blinked, surprised that he had asked. "Dearly. He was the world to me. We were never apart. Then...something happened. He lost his life the day we raided the Palace of the Makai."
"So...you were partners?" Koko's line of questioning seemed to have no end.
Kurama was actually relieved that he could talk to someone. He hadn't wanted to bring the subject up to Hiei, but he had been feeling particularly sensitive about losing Kuronue lately. He didn't think he could speak to anyone about his friend and his death, though it seemed that Koko was lending that needed ear.
"In more than one sense," Kurama said softly, backstepping a bit to sit on the edge of his bed. Koko sprang off the chair he stood on and hopped up next to the elder youko. "We were always together, learning from each other. Before our last thieving mission, he told me he was going to have a child." Tears brimmed in Kurama's eyes again, and, this time, he made no move to hide them from his cousin. "I hadn't even been aware that he'd found a lover...but...he wanted to make this misson special. I wanted to give something to him, so I had my mind set on stealing the Kagami no Kin. It would be my gift to his firstborn child, just as this..." he lifted the pendant, dangling it before him, "...would be his own gift."
Koko listened intently, reaching out to touch the silver that shone in the sunlight. Kurama gently laid it in the young kitsune's palm, smiling sadly at his cousin's delight.
"Then what happened?"
Kurama sighed, a few of the tears escaping and rolling down his smooth cheeks. "We nearly made it...we were so close, we could taste it. I felt him behind me the entire time, and then suddenly, he wasn't there anymore. I turned around to find him running back where we had just left. I realised that he had lost his pendant, and I tried to get him to come back...but that necklace...he wouldn't leave that goddamn necklace behind!" His face was now wet with bitter salt, and Koko watched him, his huge eyes teary as well. "The youkai guards managed to capture him...not too gently. His last words told me to run...and they..." Kurama couldn't finish, but Koko was sure he knew how the story ended.
"Did they send him to a better place? Mama says that when someone we love goes away and never comes back, that they went to a better place," Koko said matter-of-factly, laying a small hand on Kurama's arm.
Kurama choked back a tiny sob and nodded. "I certainly hope so, Koko."
"She says that that's what happened to my daddy."
Kurama looked over at the young kit. He was toying with the pendant, batting it back and forth. He didn't seem to broach the subject of a possibly-dead (with Koko talking, it was hard to tell) father with any kind of sadness. "Did you know your father, Koko?"
Koko looked up from playing with the necklace. "Not really. He died not too long ago, but I almost never saw him. Mama said that he was a really lousy father. But I have seen some pictures. He looked like a lady, and had blue skin and hair, and really funny clothes. He dressed nearly as bad as Kuwabara-kun."
Kurama stifled a snicker, his tears drying as he looked at Koko. It was obvious he had inherited most of his mother's physical traits; his Aunt Kimiyo was a dark brown youko with red eyes that had given him nightmares if she scolded him in his youth. Perhaps Koko's lighter skin tone was derived from the unusual match. "Anything else?"
"Yeah...whenever she called him by his name...it was Mmmm....Majari. What she really called him was a bunch of words that I was told never to speak in public, or she'd skin me alive."
Kurama completely missed the last statement the kitsune had made. His jaw hung in absolute disbelief. It couldn't be...no, not the Majari, Netherworld god? Yet the description was the same, right down to the cross-dressing habit. Kurama's stomach turned a little as he again studied his cousin. His only relief was that Koko had picked up no traits from his deceased father. That much was a comfort.
"Kurama, you look like you've swallowed a spider."
Kurama promptly shut his mouth and got up. He held his hand out for the pendant, prepared to take the child to the park and get his mind off of this revelation.
Koko reluctantly handed the pendant back to his cousin, a disappointed look in his eyes. He hadn't wanted to let go of it. "Can't I keep it, Cousin Kurama?"
Kurama paused, glancing from the fox to the necklace. The ruby twinkled in the sunlight as if warming up to the idea. He sighed. He would never wear it. It was much too sacred and was intended for someone else. While Kuronue might never have seen his true son, Koko was as much of one to Kurama. It would have the same meaning. He looked to the heavens as though asking for his friend's permission. He then turned back to the expectant youko. He knelt down in front of Koko and took his hand.
"You have to promise me that you'll be very careful with this, Koko. It means a lot, and you can't be as careless with it as you are all of your other toys. It is something to be treasured, something to remember me by when you leave, as it helped me remember my dear Kuronue. Promise me."
"I promise. I promise I'll wear it all the time." Koko gently took the necklace from Kurama's hands and clasped it around his neck. "Oh! And if I ever run into Kuronue's son, I'll give it to him for you!"
Koko seemed so determined of the idea that Kurama didn't bother telling him that it would be next to impossible to find him. He simply admired the way Kuronue's necklace set off the innocent beauty in Koko, as it once had on the original wearer. Kurama felt his eyes welling up with tears again and decided he'd had enough crying for the day. He stood up and reached for Koko's hand.
"Shall we go to the park, kit?"
Koko's squeal of joy was all the youko needed to be convinced.
End Prologue
