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I blame a few people for this one, but I won't name them.
===

There were many days that he could have called "Bad".  It was one of those rare ones, though, that slipped right into the category of "SHIT this is Bad." He always hated those ones,; they had a tendency to overrule the Bad ones.

"You are not worthy as my opponent," the white-haired, screechy soul-hunter shouted at Haruka, and the youko was beginning to get annoyed at the headache that was forming at the back of his head. What was this, he thought, some shonen manga?

"Who the hell spouts that kind of bullshit in the middle of the CITY," Ruka growled back, looking up through bloody bangs that nearly blinded him. "Especially when you're FIGHTING." He had gone beyond caring about the civilians around him, as it was HIS life on the line at the moment. He could have given less of a crap about the squealing women and the distant wail of police sirens approaching.

It wasn't every day a sword-weilding plane-shifter burst into a coffee shop seeking the blood of a surprised transient fox spirit.  Ruka had been less than thrilled that his six-dollar drink had been splattered on the floor when he had dropped down to avoid a certainly lethal sword cutting through the air.

"Oh HELL no," the kitsune had commented, right before setting the coffee shop ablaze with otherworldly flames. It had gone downhill from there. They had taken the fight to the city streets, and Ruka was quickly rediscovering the true weakness of his latest incarnation.

Time was not his friend, and Nidah, his immortal opponent, had plenty of that.

"Shit!" Ruka barely dodged a downward swing of the soul-hunter's sword, which sent a split down the concrete where the white-eared and triple-tailed individual had just been sprawled. Nidah was fast, but Ruka managed to stay one step ahead with his own knowledge of swordsmanship. Most of the time he could read Nidah's moves, but...

"Haughk!" Ruka coughed up something slimy and red, and knew it wasn't a good sign. Nidah chuckled, walking in a wide circle around his opponent. The youko glared at the human visage, wishing the rain would stop, wishing the cops would hurry up... wishing something would happen.

"You're so weak. You think you can outrun me, traitor?" Nidah asked, anger in his black-limned, crimson eyes. Ruka felt his heart ache, wishing he could summon enough power to reach out and crush the small amulet that hung around the man's neck. The thing that was controlling him. "Twelve centuries... and I still find you, rodent!"

"I'm a MAMMAL, you ignorant...!" Ruka was cut off when the blunt edge of Nidah's blade caught him in the ribs, sending him rolling across wet pavement. He coughed, managing to push himself to an elbow. "Nidah," he gasped, "stop this nonsense. This isn't you... it's just - it's just Kagami getting back at both of us!"

The other man wasn't hearing any of it, apparently, as he took a running start at the downed kitsune. Ruka flexed his body, trying to muster up enough juice for another flare of distracting yet harmless fire. It was for naught though, as any energy he had petered out, and his tribal markings, tails and ears all vanished, leaving him in the shell of his mortal male body.

Damn, Ruka thought, guess I'm gonna have to sacrifice a limb on this one. He lifted his arm expectantly, but winced when something dark suddenly obscured his vision, and Nidah cried out in exasperation.

"Nidah, stay your hand or die!"

The voice was unmistakable, but the overriding sensation of pain wracking through the mortal body he had returned to managed to hold his attention more. Nidah wasn't taking his head off, so he had a moment to wallow in self-pity. Marov's voice was like a ray of salvation through the rain, and when he managed to realize his savior, he looked up to the new individual's figure.

"Interfering again, Marov? The boy must mean something important to you," Nidah growled, sliding back on his feet and sheathing his weapon. Marov just grinned, hands held to his sides with violet sparks of electricity dancing across his fingertips. "This isn't over, Sasaki!" the silver-haired man shouted before phasing into another plane of existance with an audible 'shhoop!'

"Heh, always here to save the day," Ruka said, spitting bloody saliva t othe wet pavement he was laying on. Marov sighed and clenched his hands momentarily before turning and kneeling to his companion. Ruka was broken inside, he knew, and wasn't going to heal well. The youko winced as he was carefully picked up. He was in no condition to walk - Nidah had all but disabled him.

"If I weren't, who else would be able to laugh at your mistakes?" Marov said in that seemingly endless purr of a voice, and Ruka was all too comfortable in letting the other man place him inside of his police cruiser. By now most of the normal human civilians had left the streets from the fight, but the few that lingered did not take too much notice to the cop - or what seemed to be - who was taking custody of the young man, as the real police force were barrelling around corners. "Let's get the hell outta here."

===

Ruka was breathing uneasily by the time Marov pulled into the apartment complex's parking lot. It was a nondescript little place, in between the ghetto and rich dominion. Kicking his cruiser into park, the Russian leaned over with a concerned sigh. He pressed the back of his hand to a feverish cheek, and shook his head.

"Schrei. We're here," Marov muttered, waking the struggling kitsune. The tall policeman came out and around to pick  Ruka up once more, carrying him to the second floor of the apartment building.

"You're too good to me," Ruka rasped out weakly, all but clinging to his companion - friend - as Marov viciously knocked on a door. It opened almost immediately, surprising both men. A blond man, with strangely dark tan skin and equally disturbing ice-blue eyes, stood for a moment before jerking his head back as a sign for Marov to step in.

"Seems our little pet has gotten into quite the scrap," Nicholai, the blond, said, in an accent that would make any borscht-loving soul proud. Marov chuckled softly as he carried his package into the other man's living room, kneeling and lying him on the floor. Ruka growled in pain.

"As much fun as you two pediks are having, could you please attend to the rib that's most likely killing a lung first?" Ruka wheezed, trying to hold still as Nicholai cut off the rest of his torn and battered shirt. The healer had already prepared for his arrival. Marov must have called him while he was passed out, he concluded. He watched as the other man eyed him for a moment, then cracked his knuckles.

"Don't worry, malysh," Nicholai said with an affectionate grin, and Ruka glossed over the name he was called. "This isn't the worst I've seen." Those blue eyes were almost glowing, Ruka noticed. He was 'examining' him. More like seeing the aura traces that made up every human body, the very ley lines of a living creature. "A few broken bones and some busted veins, but other than that..."

"FfffFFFUUU-..!" Ruka's shriek of pain was muffled by Marov's hand over his mouth. Nicholai had laid his hands on the younger man's body, and the sick shift of broken bones mending themselves beyond normal speed was enough to make him feel nauseas. The healer hummed merrily, and Ruka shed tears of anger and hurt, glaring up at Marov, who held his head in his lap. Marov shushed him gently, and Ruka was beginning to hate the frequency of passing out he was experiencing.

===

After enjoying the reprise of a haunted dream, Ruka was dragged from unwanted sleep when he felt articles of wet clothing start coming off on their own accord.

"Marov!"

"Shut it, you have nothing I haven't seen before," the older male replied, hissing softly at the left-over bruises that striped the young man's body. While Nicholai was able to mend the worst of it, there were still a few lingering injuries. And Nidah wasn't pulling his punches anymore.  

Ruka blushed, but was unable to turn away from the assistance. The unexpected fight had drained him of his central essences, beyond his mortal shell, and now he was paying for it in more way than one. Slowly, from Marov's bedroom, Ruka realized, they shuffled into the bathroom.

"He really can't make up his mind whether or not he wants to kill me. Not like it would gain him much. That damned malignant spirit is in control of his actions... I'm not even a full demon, which is what he needs to slay for that silly curse removal," Ruka muttered distractedly, as if explaining something Marov had not already heard three times before. Marov hummed in some sort of neutral answer, turning on the warm water in the bath. The brunet sighed, closing his eyes to the dull migraine that was beginning to form behind his brows as he sat in the tub.

"How do you know he's indecisive?" Marov asked, swishing his fingers through the water as he added thin soap, chasing the length of a muscular calf. Ruka gave him a strict look, the older man smiling mischeiviously.

"First off, two consciousnesses are in a struggle. Nidah, who knows me, and Kagami's spirit, who's obviously trying to break out of that pendant, by killing me off. But... something's not clicking. If he wanted to kill me, I'd be dead already. My skills are completely useless against his in this form," Ruka said, gingerly touching the sick bruises he knew would be hurting to all hell soon. "Our past ties are hindering his thoughts, which is a good thing at least. I don't want to take up my soul-reaper duties yet."

"I hope he comes to his senses soon, I might just have to kick his pansy ass. And I'm getting tired of pulling your fluffy ass out of the fire," Marov said with a grin, chuckling when Ruka all but bristled. Those green eyes, annoyed without real heat, rolled back in annoyance.

"You better be glad I'm tired," Ruka said, moving to begin the process of cleaning up. After fighting in the rain, a busy day at the shop and having his goddamned six dollar tea utterly ruined, he was ready to relax a little. He couldn't believe tea could cost six dollars. Last time he ever went to that coffee shop...

After an extended moment of quiet, and Marov watching lecherously, Ruka was disrupted by a wrist under his chin, turning him into an unexpected kiss. Hands full of shampoo ran through his choppy, messy hair, encouraging a small groan as he was massaged and petted. Marov was being unusually forward today. Probably because he was almost decapitated - the older creature had a tendency to worry when he got into rough scraps like that.

When Marov pulled away, still rubbing the fox's head, he turned violet eyes to the suddenly self-conscious youko, who was biting his lips in a nervous gesture.

"Marov..."

"Just sit back," the man whispered, all but kneeling in the tub, lips at the other's neck and hands running slickly down his chest, passing over the three-pronged seal at the base of his throat.

Ruka was hard-pressed to get out of the bath after that.