Pain...
Tremendous, mind numbing pain...
Days went uncounted since Azi were intercepted by the legendary fox bandit, and she had since been made a product of suffering. The lashes across her back had begun to fester; the long, surfaced scratches of nails raked and indented in her arms begun to scab. Yoko had intended for her to die as slowly as possible, and she'd endlessly prayed for it. Still she lived on and for much longer than she'd hoped; the wounds that had started to heal continuously replaced with fresh ones.
Tortured, violated and starved, she were nothing more than an empty shell of the young woman she used to be. Her back slumped feebly against the jagged edges of rock, too weak willed to move to a more comfortable position. Strong vines bound her wrist, preventing her from moving more than an inch. Should Yoko release her now, it would only be an act of trickery as she hadn't the strength to run.
How much longer would this continue?
Why had she survived this long?
Her lids responded to the deceptive gentleness in Yoko's touch, the cool pads of his fingertips grazing over the thin, pallid skin of her face. They curled around her chin, treating it delicately as he lifted her eyes to meet his. The dulled color of her irises refused to meet the deadly, golden glow of his own. They stared off to the side, devoid entirely of life or hope.
Yoko chuckled deeply, "It seems you've completely given up. A shame, really... I rather liked your spirit."
Neither a word or a whimper was elicited from her lips even as his hand tightened around her face. Her eyes were dry, unable to shed even a single tear. Yoko's words sounded shallow, empty; nothing but a deep hum as if blood had clogged her ears.
"You have my sincerest gratitude for entertaining me as long as you have. I assure you my words are true... For a soul who so feared suffering, you were fortitude. Despite all you've been through, you held on to hope longer than most. For that, I am impressed."
Groggily, she groaned. The vines that held her relinquished her wrist and she fell limp against the fox's body. His shoulders lightly shook with another, inaudible snicker,
"I commend you. By death, you will have your release."
The flesh over her abdomen was punctured, but by what she did not know. It ripped the remnant oxygen from her lungs, mouth filled with coppery liquid which dripped and stained the purity of Yoko's tunic. Involuntarily, she gripped onto his biceps as the surge of mind-numbing pain jolted from the weapon's entry point through the rest of her.
Yoko's embrace only tightened as Death beckoned her soul. She had a little time to be surprised, her lids drooped and her muscles relaxed. A smile found it's way on her lips and she could make out the vision of her mother's face.
Finally, it was over.
-|-
Kurama wakes to the sound of thunder and a white, strobe of light flickers across the ceiling. Though cognizant of the present and the bed he now lies, his past lingers in the back of his mind. His dream was so clear, so very near that he could smell the blood and feel the woman's warmth fleeting. It is almost real enough to cause him to hold his breath in hopes it might help him swallow his regret.
The sheets rustle and shift, and Kurama turns his head just as the feminine form rolls over. Her arm rests over her eyes and a wispy sigh escapes passed plump lips. Her hair splays across the pillow case, and again, her back arches briefly for a more comfortable position.
The resemblance is uncanny. Everything, from the color of her locks, eyes and complexion, to the way she felt when Kurama embraced her was identical to the young woman he'd tortured so many centuries ago. It was as if it were you incarnate, and it was quite possibly so. Was there any other possibility? Her and the woman that slept beside him now even shared the same name.
He could recall the moment he saw her. It took his breath away, but not in the way one might typically experience it. "Impossible", was Kurama's first thought. He feared his old instincts that he had worked so hard to change, that Yoko might personify himself once more to do to her what he had once done to you. Kurama distanced himself, even after Azi had become apart of the team.
This time, things had not gone his way.
Perhaps it was pity, or, perhaps his second chance --a chance to make things right. Despite his efforts to ignore her, she worked herself into his heart gracefully. Kurama could no longer ignore the attraction and submitted himself. He would have never predicted that a creature such as herself would prove a worthy mate.
"I can feel you staring at me, Kurama."
The corner of his lips quirk, "My apologies. I see the thunder woke you as well."
"No, I'm just talking in my sleep," she murmurs, her words nearly slurred. Azi removed her arm from her eyes, and he is surprised. For only a moment, he sees anguish associated with the past, "What're you thinking about?"
Kurama hums and forces his gaze to the ceiling, "Nothing of importance, I assure you. Please, go back to sleep."
Shee yawns coyly and curls into his side without another word. His arm drapes around her in a hold gentle enough for an infant. In this moment he is certain:
Yes. This is his second chance.
