Prologue
At first it was just like an itch he couldn’t scratch; he found himself rubbing his chest quite frequently, trying to quell it.
As the days passed it became a dull ache, a bit like a bruise on his heart.
After a month sharp pains started to wake him in the night, eventually increasing in frequency until they interrupted his waking hours as well.
It has been three months since he left the Makai.
Soaked in sweat Kurama gasps for breath, clutching the sheets like a lifeline. Pain radiates throughout his chest. It is as if someone is trying to crush the breath from his lungs with a mace.
There is a banging sound on the edge of Kurama’s awareness. It distracts him from the overpowering pain just enough that he can let out a strangled cry.
The next thing he is aware of beyond the pain is cool hands on his forehead and a soft, familiar voice. Through tear-filled eyes, Kurama is barely able to recognize the person at his bedside.
‘Kaasan.
The darkness overtakes him suddenly.
Feed The Muse!