I Won, He Lost

Dane Soar

Rating: T, for ranting

Summery: Kurama is a bit annoyed that so many fanfictions say he died in that battle against Karasu. He would like to point out, that he did in fact win all AU aside.

Characters/Pairings: Kurama, Karasu, Yusuke, Hiei, Shizuru (the last three only in passing).

Comments: Please don't get offended by this, a lot of the types of stories made fun of here I quite enjoy reading myself, when written well. I'm writing a 'Karasu's come back' story myself, so this is a bit hypocritical.

Spoilers: Details of Kurama's battle with Karasu, but not much else.


I have to admit that it irritates me somewhat that there are so many stories with which I did not win the battle against Karasu. Those in which he kills me.

But that didn't happen.

I won, I defeated him.

And while I'm sure those stories of blood and rose petals and dramatic last words are quiet nice, I like the truth much better. Maybe it isn't as full of angst, but it's what I prefer.

I won, Karasu lost.

Then there's the versions were not only do I die, but it's while my true love screams my name heartrendingly from the sidelines. Again, it's dramatically pleasing, I'm sure, but ridiculous. If I even had a love there, whoever they may be, Hiei or Yusuke or Shizuru or anyone else, the last thing I would want them to do would be yell at me as I'm trying to concentrate.

They would know me well enough to know even if the last drop of life is leaving me, I still haven't given up, I'd still be planning, plotting, looking for any way to win.

At the time, winning was more important than living, for the purposes of the Tournament, and for Yusuke.

They wouldn't say anything.

And they wouldn't have to.

I'd know whatever it was they were going to tell me anyway.

But that doesn't matter because the only one who died during that battle was Karasu. No matter what the judges say, he lost, I won, because I'm still standing and Karasu isn't.

And he is dead.

Never mind all those stories in which he haunts my dreams. Never mind all those stories were he comes back to take his revenge on me. He won't because he is dead, rotting, and will remain that way.

I know this because I buried the body myself, deep in my mother's garden, along with a handful of flesh-eating seedlings.

A tad morbid, I admit, taking the body home with me like that, but I wanted to take no chances. He's fertilizer.

So there is no way he'd come back, though even if he does, people seem to have gotten it wrong. An alive Karasu doesn't want to rape me, he wants to kill me! Slowly and painful murder perhaps, but where did all this evil sex crazed Karasu come from?

I don't know.

I don't want to know.

Maybe they enjoy torturing me, or having him do it, but no matter the circumstances, there would be no chance I'd ever so much as let myself get within a foot of him. Never mind letting him touch me, kiss me, or do anything else. It wouldn't happen.

And really, I don't think Karasu had any real romantic emotions toward me at all, mostly I think he just wanted to get off on killing me.

Though again, I must I point out, he didn't.

I killed him.

Now, about those versions with me being tormented with nightmares of that battle, as either the wounds appear in real life or my life slowly falls apart due to my inherit fatigue.

Maybe I even end up being slain by a dream Karasu as back in real life my beloved screams my name, weeping.

See, there it is again!

Where did this lover come from?

Not that I object, but for once can I not be coupled up with someone?

Anyway, I would never let nightmares take over my life. If it came to it, I'd drug myself to sleep until the dreams went away. I like my control, thank you very much.

And about dreams, I didn't have ones about Karasu.

No, I dream about the few seconds after I unleashed that final bloodsucking plant on Karasu when I lay on the arena floor, waiting for the consequences of pushing myself too far. There had been absolute silence in the stadium.

No one had said a word.

Which was strange, you would have thought they'd been cheering that I appeared to be dead, they held no fondness for a turncoat like me.

But there was silence.

Not a word.

It felt like everyone was holding their breath, waiting to see if I would get up again.

I had dreamt about those seconds of stillness over and over.

I don't know why.

And I don't even do that anymore so it really doesn't matter.

Karasu isn't alive, I am.

May I also point out right now, that I did not sink into a pit of depression on my return from the Tournament. Why should I?

I had survived and so had all those I cared for, what was there to be sad about?

Though living is much harder than dying.

Living always the harder path.

Enough of that though, I'm not at all melancholy about that battle at all. I'm proud that I won.

And I wouldn't start slicing up my skin, even in this hypothetical depression, I have a rather healthy respect for my own well being. How does post traumatic stress always relate to cutting in those stories?

As if any self respecting demon would get post traumatic stress anyway, as I said before, I also value my control.

It doesn't even disturb me how close I came to dying in that battle, I came near in some of the other rounds, didn't I?

But I didn't. I won, all those times.

So I suppose they can enjoy all the alternatives, with all the drama, blood, rose petals, lovers and angst words they can fit in. Let them write me dead, tortured, captured, any of that.

Have fun.

I'll get on with living in the meantime.