kitoriwitch613

Title: L and Light Lemon: Captured
Fandom: Death Note
Author: me
Disclaimer: characters not mine
Commission for catqueen991 on Deviantart
Rating: NC-17



This is not as planned. This is not as planned. This is not as planned.

He knew that one mistake would be his doom. One miscalculation could crumble his plan and all ideals of the New World. One glitch, and Kira would be gone, an inmate on death row.

Yet, Light had been careful. Taking careful measurements, not taking unnecessary risks unless needed, and he always had a backup plan or a plan B. He had taken careful notes on everyone, especially L. He had been watching, observing, calculating the detective since their introduction, just like L had done with him. It hadn't stopped. They were always under each other's thumbs. Their brains were nonstop. Light thought he had the detective down. He thought he knew everything about his methods and what he would do.

Except, he had been ignorant. His pride and ego had gotten in the way, and he made a mistake. A very, very stupid mistake that he will never forgive himself for, because he had caused his own conviction.

Seeing L in the rain, defeated, depressed, it was exhilarating. L had been defeated. There was no longer anything he could lean on. All evidence had been gone because of the fake thirteen day rule. L had lost, and he was soaking his depression in the rain.

Light had managed to get the man to come back inside. They trotted to their room to dry off.

"Here." Light tossed L a towel for his hair. He picked up his own towel and began to dry off his hair. L, still in his daze, only draped the towel over his head, making no move to actually dry it. Light didn't say anything. He searched in the drawer and picked out some clothes for them to change into.

"Here," he said again, placing the clothes on the bed. L didn't make a move toards the offered clothes.

This is where Light made his mistake. The worst mistake of his lifetime.

He had taken off his watch. It was the only way to get his shirt off without it getting caught on his sleeve. He put the watch, his father's gift, on the bed and began unbuttoning his shirt.

He knew L was the kind of person who constantly had to do things with his hands, he knew. Yet, for some moronic reason, he didn't think about this. He didn't see L reach over and pick it up, another toy for him to play with, something for his fingers to fiddle with. As Light took off his shirt, L flipped it back and forth. He picked the rod that was used to change the time. He pulled it out. Pushed it in.

With his back turned, Light pulled the t-shirt over his head. Behind him, L was still fidling with the watch. Pull it out. Push it in. Pull it out. Push it in.

When Light heard the clicking, he turned his head.

Wham! L's foot connected to the side of his face. It was wet and it easily slid off, but it still knocked Light off the bed. Then Ryuuzaki was on top of him, trying to subdue him. Light fought against him, trying to elbow him in the face to get him off. He managed to get him in the cheek. L grabbed his hair and slammed his head against the floor. It made Light dizzy for a second, but in that same second, Ryuuzaki whipped the belt Light was undoing out of it's belt loops and then wound it around his left wrist, then around his right foot, so he was tied in a weird angle, and there would be no way to move. And it hurt. It was painful to be tied in such a humiliating way.

So Light knew, L had found the piece of paper locked away in his watch. He had seen Higuchi's name written in blood. He had the final piece of evidence against Light. This small piece of paper was enough to outweigh the thirteen day rule. And Light knew that since L now had this new evidence, he was back in control. He was going to test the thirteen day rule; how? He didn't know.

The door opened. With L's fist holding his head down, Light couldn't look back to see who is was.

"Help me with him, Watari," L said. He must have seen it all happen on the video cameras and came down to investigate.

The older gentleman came over and cuffed Light's hand. L undid the belt and let his foot fall, but he sat on them to keep him from kicking. Watari pulled Light's other hand behind his back and cuffed that too. Both of them grabbed under his arms and pulled him to his feet.

Light felt something poke him in the back. "Try to run, and I'll pull the trigger," Watari hissed, jabbing the gun harder into his back.

L patted him down, not finding anything, but he undid Light's pants' button and zipper and pulled them down. He looked up at Light's face. "Do no kick me, or I will use excessive force on you."

Light snarled at him. Excessive force? What the hell was this then? But he listened to L and didn't kick him like he damn well wanted to. He stepped out of his pants when L pulled them down to his ankles. Watari handed him another pair of cuffs, these for his ankles. L tightened them around Light's socks. They would only allow him to take small steps; there would be no running.

"Was wollen Sie dass ich seinam Vater und den anderen erzahle?" Watari said in a foreign language. It sounded Dutch, or German. Light didn't know this language.

"Sagen Sie ihnen dass ich allein sein mag. Ich erlaube Light," L said in the same language, "bei mir zu bleiben, aber ich mag fur jeden sonst abreisen." The he looked to Light. "I will not tell your family, yet, that you are Kira."

"I'm not Kira," Light hissed maliciously, "The Death Note said thirteen days!" He screamed, "Thirteen days! You've got nothing on me!"

Thwak!

The back of L's hand smacked hard against Light's cheek. It caused him to stumble, but Watari held him up. Light felt a tiny bit of delight when he saw L's face. He was angry, furious, showing his emotions like he never had before. Everyone last one he had, the frustration, the betrayal, and below his right eye was the beginning of a large bruise where Light's elbow struck him. If L had the Death Note, he might've used it on Light right at that second.

"Don't give me that bullshit, Yagami-kun," L said, his voice still had it's hollow monotone, but there was an underlying hiss of maliciousness to it, "You have lost. I am the winner of this game. Your immaturity ends here." He held up the watch in his fingers where the paper with Higuchi's name was taped inside. "You lose, Kira."

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Light didn't know how long he had been here. He didn't know how many days or weeks he had been here in this cell, if it was even a cell. He couldn't see anything. He was laying down straight on a table with his hands bound by what felt like leather straps. His legs were free and he would move them out of boredom, to get some circulation going, or to make sure they were still unbound; he wanted to make sure that at least some part of him could still move. Tightened around his eyes was a strap. Light couldn't see anything. The air was a temperate warm, but his skin would often chill because all he had on was a pair of shorts, his boxers, maybe?

It was always quiet, though. That's what was driving him insane. At least when he was being held in a cell by L before he could have conversations through the camera and monitors. Right now he missed that body-less voice. He wanted company, even if it was L, the devil who captured him, who went against God, he just wanted to not be alone. He wanted to see his surroundings. he knew he was not in the same cell as before. He had been knocked out, blindfolded, and left alone. Only twice a day would someone enter the cell--Watari, Light's mind supplied, it had to be Watari--and he would be fed, given water, and then led to a urinal; he was a trained dog, a trapped, trained dog.

He always had that feeling that someone was watching him. He knew he was always being watched by cameras that were setup--they seemed to be L's favorite method--yet, sometimes he felt as though someone were in the room with him. When he called out to see if anyone was there--"Hello? Someone there?"--no one would answer. There wasn't a sound. Not a footstep, not a breath.

However, he knew L was there. L was physically there, seeing his captured prey on the table, waiting for him to sink his teeth in and rip the flesh from his bones. Yet, L did not make his move, did not answer Light. Then again, Light wasn't sure he was there or if it was just his imagination tricking his concious. No, it was L. L was there in the room with him, physically, not through cameras.

Light licked his lips. They felt like sandpaper. His tongue was dry and his throat felt like he had swallowed sand. "L?" he called out, a low hum of a whisper.

No answer. As expected.

Light never knew how much time had passed. He had tried counting in his head, but he would either lose count or fall asleep.

...two-hundred and forty-three...two-hundred and forty-four...two-hundred and forty-five...two-hundred...and...for...ty...some...thing

He woke up to the feeling of something brushing across his bare chest. He squirmed because it tickled, but there was no way in hell he would giggle. They were fingers, fingertips, that was brushing against his chest. It was L. He knew. He could smell his scent. It smelled sweet, no surprise there.

"Stop touching me, L," Light grumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

L didn't say anything. His fingers continued to draw designs on Light's skin. He brushed past his nipple. He traced a star, up, down, diagonally up, across, diagonally down. It was starting to annoy him. Was L doing this just to piss him off? It was working.

"Dammit, L," Light hissed again. Still L did not answer back.

Then a mouth wrapped around his left nipple, teeth gently pulling and his tongue warmly licking against it. His skin was chilled by the lack of clothes, but it wasn't the cold that made him shiver.

Light turned his head away from L's. He closed his eyes, which was unnecessary since he had the blindfold on.

"Wh-What are you doing?" he asked.

The only answer he received was a tongue trailing from his left nipple to his right. L sucked on it until it was as perked as his other. His hands trailed on either side of Light's underarms down to his hips. L's lips laid butterfly kisses up to his neck. He licked the bend in his neck and bit down on it. Light bit his bottom lip. L's hands trailed further down. They went behind him, slipping under his shorts. Light bit down harder on his lip. L gripped each of the cheeks of his rear end, messaging them. Light tensed up. He wanted to move his legs, but they seemed to belong to someone else.

"Ah!" he voiced. he mentally yelled at himself for slipping up. L was pulling his shorts down, and Light was allowing him. Why was he allowing him? The shorts went off. He felt humiliated.

L still did not utter a single word. He was completely silent as he lifted Light's member--still soft but a little aroused--and began messaging it. It started to respond instantly. Under the blindfold, Light's eyes were tightly closed and his teeth were biting his lip so hard he could taste metal. L's hands handled his erection carefully. His thumb rubbed over the head, his palm moved up and down his shaft. Tingles of pleasure moved down his spine and to his groin. His penis became more and more erect against his will. It made his toes curl.

L's hand--the one currently not on Light's member--cupped Light's cheek. His fingers brushed his lips and he gently pulled his bottom lip from being even more damaged.Light could taste blood on his tongue.

Light's breath caught in his throat as L's ministrations picked up in pace. He could feel his heart pound against his chest and his pulse quickened. Against him will, his hips movedwith L's hand. He wanted more of L's touch. He hated himself for that. He hated L for that.

Colors danced around in his vision. His member was pulsing in L's hand, he could feel it. L never stopped moving his hand. He never stopped jacking Light off. He never stopped making Light feel pleasured.

Light pulled hard at his restrainsts around his wrists, cutting into his skin, and bit down hard on his lip to muffle the outcry he emitted. He bucked his hips against L's hand. His back arched off the table and he released.

Squirt. Squirt. Squirt.

White danced around his eyes as his orgasm came in waves through his body. Weeks of pent up frustation released.

A towel wiped up the mess. Then, without saying a word, L left.

L did this. L made him feel this way. L had made him feel good. He made him orgasm. He made him enjoy it.

I'll never forgive you for this
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________-

Over the next few weeks--days? Months?--L would come in and do the same thing to Light. Hive him a hand-job and then leave, all without saying a single word. It was starting to effect Light's thinking. He was starting to look forward to it. Forward to the company. Forward to the feeling of his touch.

He was sick. Was that what L wanted?

"Nng!" Light lifted his chin as he released. It splashed his chest. He panted hard to get the oxygen he needed. Sweat beaded on his skin, which quickly cooled. L wiped him down.

"Wait," Light said, still panting. Was L still there or did he already leave? No, he could feel his presence. "Is that all you're gonna do?" He swallowed. He knew L was listening. "If you're going to molest me like this, do it right. Go all the way."

Lips crashed onto his. A tongue pierced it's way into Light's mouth. The kiss was hot, dominant. L bit down on Light's already badly bruised bottom lip. He bit it hard. L hooked his arm under Light's knee and brought his leg up. Without lube or warning, he fully entered.

"Ah! Ah! Ah!" Light called out loudly as L pounded against him. L bit down hard on his neck, drawing blood. "Ah! Ah! Ah!" Light was being ripped in half by an extremely hot fire. It was rough. It was painful.

It was exactly what Light wanted.

Pain.

His nails dug into his palms, already having identical marks and cuts from his nails. The wrist restraints cut into his skin the harder he pulled on them. And this time, L was making noise. Light could hear him panting. He could hear the slick sound of the flesh flap against each other. He could smell L's scent better than ever. He could smell his sweat. He could feel L's body heat against his own.

"Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah!"

His mouth was dry from crying out, but he couldn't stop. His arms hurt. His legs hurt. His bum hurt. Damn, this was good. This is what he wanted, needed, craved.

"Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah!...Aaaaaa~hhhh!"

He had never released so forecfully before. He had never felt the hot seed of someone else inside him. He hit his head against the table he was tied down to. His ears were ringing. The table was stiflingly hot, a burning hell. Beads of sweat rolled off their bodies. L collapsed on top of Light. Both their erratic pumping hearts were beating against each other. His hair tickled Light's chin, and his erratic breathing was hot on his already burning skin.

After catching his breath, L removed himself. Instead of using a towel, he used the shirt off his back to clean them both off.

"Say something," Light said. "Please. Just say something."

L's hand cupped Light's cheek. He moved it to his blindfold, running his thumb over the cloth over Light's eyes. Then he slowly pulled it down.

The light was blindingly bright. It made his eyes water. After blinking a few times, he saw L. Neither of them smiled. Neither of them said anything.

L bent his head down and gently kissed him. Soft. When he pulled back, he said, "Maybe in another life, we can have a better relationship. Maybe in another life, Kira and L can actually get along."

He kissed Light again and put the blindfold back in place. When Light heard the door close and lock, he turned his head away. His blindfold dampened with tears.

"Maybe we can," he whispered, "Maybe we can."

Lost Memories I


    Things were coming together nicely. Oh yes, they were. Just yesterday, phase one had been completed. Like a mental recording, the scene in where L’s spoon fell from his hands as he tumbled out of his swivel ran through his mind as a sweet remembrance of sweet victory. After all he had put up with, after everything he was cornered into doing, Light had finally won.

    The great detective L was gone. Dead.

    The best part it? No one suspected him anymore, save for L, who was forever doomed in the dark world of Death. The image of L screaming and pulling his hair out after realizing he had been dead-on—he’d had it all along—as he continued to relish the sweet taste of victory. Light Yagami was Kira. And there was not a damn thing L could be because… well, because he was dead. Light was not.

    Checkmate. The game was over.

    Light imagined winning the lottery would feel like something similar. But, if given the chance, L’s death would have never been considered second best to something as worthless as money. It was worthless when your archrival lived. Light had not won the lottery—he had won the world. The new world he was destined to create was closer than ever. He could see it then—him; God. Known as a God, loved as a God, worshipped as a God.

    Kira, God of the World; the titled fit him, Light decided.

    A kid visiting Disney World could not feel happier than he did, yet, he chose to keep it a secret. He held it all in. To all of working on the Kira case, Light was set out for revenge. He was mourning and at times, gone insane from the loss—laughing uncontrollably. He was depressed. Light spent more and more time locked up in his room, accepting his meals there. When he felt someone watching him, he would pretend to be lost in thought, sighing frequently when Matsuda, or any of the other buffoons, tried talking to him. His eyes would gaze upon them blankly.

    The role of L had been set on the table constantly. His father and the other investigators had brought it up after the third day marking L’s death. It was decided the world could go on with their lives without a mention of L’s death. Light accepted this, denying a vacation time after time. But, his father was hardheaded and felt it necessary for his son to return to his schooling. Therefore, Light did.

    Fortunately, no one seemed to notice Ryuuga Hideki’s absence. It was as though he had never existed. But, Light had to admit it was all L’s paranoia that helped with that: missing classes for the sake of preserving his self had proved him nothing more than a nobody to Light. It was only occasionally when someone mentioned his absence, inquiring Light. At that, he mentioned online classes.


    After classes were over, he walked home. Without a worry, he left Misa with her commercial shootings and acting and the Kira matter to her as he found it impossible to reach his own note. It being locked up and watched by the Task Force and all. But, Light thought nothing of it—there were ways and ways of being Kira… without having to write all those names down. He had Misa Amane in the palm of his hand now that Rem was gone—along with her note—and that Misa’s undying love for him would push her to do anything and everything he asked. At times, Light even questioned the idea of him asking her to jump of a building—he did feel she would if he asked.

    “I’m home,” Light called out when he walked into his house and replaced his shoes with slippers.

    It was late into the evening; Light had stopped by to see his father at the headquarters. When he asked about joining again, his father quickly reprimanded him lightly, telling him to go home and ask again in a few days.

    Light was halfway up the stairs when his sister showed up at the top of the stairs. “Hey, Nii-san!” she greeted him happily; “Did you see Misa-chan today?”

    Light smiled, “No, not today, Sayu.”

    Sayu smiled widely. “Oh well…It is so cool that you’re dating a celebrity!” Light walked by her, patting her on the head. “When can I tell my friend you’re dating the Amane Misa?”

    As he unlocked his door, he removed the lead piece out of its security spot. “Not right now. Promise me you won’t tell, okay?”

    Sayu pouted and crossed her arms. “Fine, I promise.” She went downstairs, presumably, to help her mother with the cooking and Light went into his room to work on his homework.

_______________________________________________________________________

    Soichirou had given his word that he would be home tonight. Sachiko, Light’s mother, served him a plate; she hoped he’d come soon. The odds of him coming home early slim; she knew that and learned to accept it after the first few months after the start of the Kira case.

    To everyone’s surprise, as the family as sat down, preparing to eat, the front door opened and in walked Soichirou.

    “Daddy!” Sayu cried out. Knocking her chair over, she ran and jumped into her father’s arms. Soichirou smiled, embracing her warmly.

    “How was work, honey?” Sachiko asked as she kissed him.

    Soichirou sat down in front of Light. The bags under his eyes were larger than usual and the man looked older than he usually did. The brunet noticed the increasing rate of gray hairs created from stress. “It’s been busy.

    Light picked at his food. “I could help you with the investigation, if you’d like.”

    “You need to be worrying about your school work, right now.”

    “I agree,” Sachiko said, sitting down next to her husband.

    “You need to be worrying about other things. You should take Misa-chan out sometime, buy her something nice; girls like getting nice things.” She cleared her throat. “Like, gold jewelry or diamonds—or a nice dinner date.”

    Oblivious to what she was getting at, Soichirou said, “Do what your mother says.”

    As they ate, Sayu talked about her friends and school. Light itched for a moment he could discuss about the Kira case with his father. But it would be impossible to do so while his sister and mother were there—they couldn’t know he had been offered L’s role when they didn’t even know he had been working on the case to begin with.

    At some point, the phone rang as they ate. Sachiko got out of her chair, mumbling about how they had just been eating peacefully. “Hello, Yagami residence? May I ask who’s speaking? Alright, one moment please.” She covered the mouthpiece with her hand, directing her attention to Soichirou. “Honey, there’s a Dr. Uramura who wants to speak to you.”

    The man stood, confused. “Uramura? Never heard of him.”

    “It’s probably about your high blood pressure.”

    Talking the phone, he walked into the kitchen. “This is Soichirou Yagami…”

    Sachiko sat down. “Honestly, your father’s health has been deteriorating ever since he started working on that stupid case. I hope they catch that man soon.”

    “He will, Mom,” Light said, giving her a confident smile.

    “Yeah!” Sayu punched the air, “Dad will catch the bad guy just like…”

    From out of the kitchen came a cry from Soichirou. He sounded flabbergasted “He’s alive?” All looked toward the man, waiting for some sort of news.

    “Are you sure? But he was checked by a doctor…Are you sure it’s him? I understand…Yes, I’ll be there immediately.”

    Soichirou entered the dining room and addressed the family. “I’ve got to get to the hospital. I’ll be back later.”

    “Dad, I’m coming too,” Light said, standing up. Soichirou looked him over and nodded.

    Light was a bit surprised when his father had not put up a fight about it; the brunet grabbed his coat and shoved his feet into some shoes. “Dad, what’s going on?” Light asked once in the car.

    “Don’t get your hopes up,” Soichirou said, “They’re probably mistaken. There is no way it could be him. I checked him myself. The doctor said he had no heartbeat. How could he be…”

    “Dad!” Light interrupted, “What are you talking about?”

    Soichirou sighed and inhaled, “I don’t want you to get your hopes up, but…” He licked his lips. They came to a red light and Soichirou took a chance and looked over at Light.

    “That doctor, Uramura, informed me that Ryuuzaki is at the hospital, alive and well.”

    At the thought, Light’s world came crash down—tumbling from his thrown, he mouth hung limply, and his eyes widened in fear and anger. He couldn’t believe it—he wouldn’t. This is just a sick joke, he assured himself.

    He forced his mouth closed, biting his lips harshly. “H-How can that be possible? We all checked him. The doctor’s checked him! He can’t be alive!”

    “That’s what I said—but Uramura’s description of the man sounded just like Ryuuzaki.” Soichirou kept his eyes on the road as he finally cracked a smile. “We’re just going to check it out; it can’t really be him. But…”

    Light gazed forward. Of course, he kept telling himself, it wasn’t L. He had died in his arms. Whoever this person was, it couldn’t possibly be L. What if it was a trap? Perhaps Interpol had gotten a signal from L’s computer when Watari had deleted all the data—they had come down here to investigate and catch him, weren’t they? It was like L to have it known that Light suspected. He might have been paranoid, but he really hoped they weren’t there to bring him in.

    Then, he remembered and assured himself that there was no possible way he could be arrested. There was no evidence anyone could bring up against to prove him as Kira. Apart from the Task Force, no one else knew of the notebooks—if they did, no amount of thorough searching would help them find one. If they searched Misa’s home—they’d turn up once again with nothing. Even Misa wasn’t stupid enough to leave her note anywhere other than her person or anywhere Light advised her to. If anything should happen and Misa were caught—she would not talk. If they broke her—it’d be his word against hers. And knowing the case would never reach court, Light began climbing back to his throne.


    Light knew that there was no chance of L escaping the clutches of death. No one could. Not even the great detective L.

    He and his father would arrive and once taking on look at the man thought as L, inform this Uramura of her mistake and head back home. Ryuuzaki was a commonly crossed upon name. Men with black hair and dark eyes were very common as well. L was a Caucasian male but; his traits were like those of a common Japanese man.

    “Dad…Ryuuzaki has to be dead. I watched him die,” Light began, slowly. “His funeral’s tomorrow…”

    “We have to check this out,” his father answered, “Who knows…maybe Kira made a mistake. He’s human too, you know…”

    Kira does not make mistakes, Light thought as he watched the scenery zoom past, I never make mistakes. I do not plan to, either…

________________________________________________________________________


    When they arrived at the hospital, Light was first out of the car as he dashed through the automatic doors. He approached the front desk.

    “We’re looking for Dr. Uramura.” Light felt his father come up from behind and stand beside him.

    The nurse at the front desk middle-aged and had her dark hair done up in a bun. “I’m sorry, dear, but she’s busy with a patient right now. If you could take a seat in the waiting room, please.”

    “Tell her that Mr. Yagami is here,” Soichirou added. “She told me to come right away. It involves one of her patients.”

    The woman’s smile did not falter. “I’ll call her and let her know you are here. In the meantime, please have a seat.”

    Reluctantly, Light and Soichirou sat down. Not that it mattered but, there was an elderly couple sitting across from them, holding hands. They seemed to be the only other people there. The brunet gave them a quick glance as he turned his attention to the nurse; she sat serenely, taking her sweet time to when making that phone call. Light had suddenly felt paranoid and felt like hiding his face. Was this feeling actually anxiousness? This whole thing was a misunderstanding at it was nothing to fret.

    What seemed like hours later, Light saw a female walking down toward them. A woman attired in black khaki pants and a white lab coat. As she reached closer, the sound of her black pumps filled the vicinity.


    “Mr. Yagami…” she peered at both of them from behind dark-rimmed glasses. Soichirou and Light stood to greet her. “I’m Dr. Uramura.”

    “I’m Soichirou Yagami,” the older man introduced himself. “And this is my son, Light.”

    As Light shook hands with the woman, an urge to kill her right then and there fell over him. However, he calmed and followed Soichirou and Uramura through a door into the sterile halls of the hospital.

    “Mr. Yagami, are you familiar with Ryuuzaki?” asked Dr. Uramura.

    “I was familiar with him, but, as far as I’m concerned… he’s dead,” Soichirou answered, “Are you sure that our Ryuuzaki is the man you have here?”

    “The only documentation that we found was his death certificate made by the director of the funeral home.” Uramura led them to an elevator and pressed one of the buttons. Then, the doors closed. “He was found by one of the security guards when he had heard shouting. He said he thought kids had broken into the mortuary and went to investigate. Sometimes teenagers will lock their friends in the caskets as a joke…”

    “Did this man specifically request my father?” Light asked.

    Uramura looked at him, seemingly agitated that a kid would interfere with adult conversation, but it seemed like a legitimate question. “No, we only knew to call you by the records left at the funeral home.” Professionally, she crossed her arms and looked at Soichirou. “There’s something else I would like to discuss with you. However, that shall have to wait until you have confirmed his identity. All I can legally tell you at the moment is that he is going through some tests…”

    “Tests?” Light asked, “What kind of tests have you put him under.”

    “We’ve done the basic health tests and we’re checking his blood, but, right now, our specialists have set him working on his memory,” she said.

    The doors opened and they followed her down another hallway with doors on either side leading to sleeping patients. Uramura led them through a wooden-paneled door that read Employees Only. Down that hall, their shoes squeaked as they made contact with the newly polished floors.

    “Where does this lead to?” asked Soichirou.

    “The observatory where Ryuuzaki is stationed,” she answered. She turned at a corner and led them through another door. The room seemed familiar, somehow as Light spotted computer screens, beeping monitors, a two-way mirror, and a door leading into the next room where a man was sitting a small chair.


    Light stayed behind as his father rushed to the window. Soichirou began to mumble and a small incredulous smiled appeared on his face.

    Once his father moved aside and took a seat at the table, Light moved forward. As he peered into the window, the brunet’s eyes widened.

    Looking pale and calm as ever, sitting in the middle of the room was L; he wore a white hospital gown and leaned against his chair as he brought his feet to his chest and his thumb, lazily, to his mouth. That messy black hair and those large dark eyes could only belong to L.

    His insides churned, he felt faint, anger blinded him and his body began trembling. Light was felt a scream build within him but held back. Neither Uramura nor his father paid any attention to him as his legs gave out and he kneeled against the window. How could this have happened? That cannot be L, he thought angrily. L is dead. But there he was. He sat in front of a makeshift computer wearing large headphones. Observed by doctors like some kind of science experiment, L sat without a care in the world—taunting Light to make a move on a poor defenseless man.

    “Do you recognize him?” Light heard Dr. Uramura ask.

    Soichirou nodded. “Yes, that’s him. It’s a miracle… but how?” He found himself at a loss of words…

    “In this hospital, I’ve seen miracle after miracle,” the woman paused, gazing over at the man. “Ryuuzaki is undergoing a test that’ll help us understand his interpretation of language… I need to talk to you about something very important. I have studied neurology and the effects severe injuries give the nerves in the brain for over fifteen years. Ryuuzaki’s case is one like I’ve never seen before.”

    “What’s wrong with him?”

    Rubbing her temples, she sighed and removed her glasses. “He has a mild case of amnesia. When we found him, he didn’t know his name, age, nothing—He can’t remember anything prior to waking up in his casket.”

    From his spot beside the window, Light’s eyes widened. He was shocked but pleased. He was safe—L, the great, was now nothing and could never harm Light.

    Soichirou was shocked as well; it was may have been something he did not want to hear. “What surprises me is that he may be one of the smartest boy’s I’ve ever encountered. He’s fluent in eight different languages but can’t remember where he’s learned it all.”

    Light felt a sort of pride radiating from the woman—like a mother boasting how that’s her child up on stage at the school talent show.

    “He’s truly an amazing person,” Uramura continued, “Ryuuzaki knows so much but, can’t find the answers her must long to hear.”

    “Are you certain he has amnesia?” Soichirou asked. Light could only barely hold back the urge to scoff. Of course he does, don’t question it—how persistent are you? He’s not coming back! Light thought, boastfully.

    “Yes, we have tested him several times, with state of the art equipment. There’s no mistaking it. The thing we can’t be sure of… when he’ll begin remembering.”

    “There are more questions I have to ask you,” Uramura directed her attention to both of them. “What are your relationships with Ryuuzaki?””

    Playing the part of an innocent victim, Light’s voice was barely audible. “We… we’re friends. We met each other at our orientation.”

    Dr. Uramura nodded. “I see. And you, Mr. Yagami—you must have met him through your son, correct?” Soichirou nodded. “Those who suffer from amnesia recover faster when surrounded by family and friends. Do you know his family?”
    
    The older man sighed heavily “We don’t know about his family.”

    “He was raised in an orphanage,” Light added.

    “Is that so? Then is there anyone else to take him in?” Dr. Uramura held her face within her palms.

    “No,” Soichirou said, “But we will take him in. We’re the closest he has to family.” Light resisted the urge to burst out in dance. This was the best thing could happen to them—him. The brunet would be keeping his enemy close and if any happened he would know immediately.

    “He’ll be released into your custody as of tomorrow. Ryuuzaki will need to visit the hospital every week so we can monitor his process.”

    “May we see him?” Light asked, standing up.

    Uramura stood up and smiled. “Yes, follow me.”

    “Ryuuzaki-kun,” the woman announced as she turned the knob and pulled the door open. “You have some visitors.”

    L removed his headphones and rose from the chair. The man had this swagger to his person, Light noticed and thought back of all the times L had strutted down with his slumped self. Except for the whole not remembering part, it was as though L had never seen into the eyes of Kira. The white gown limited his speed as he came to greet them. Light had accustomed himself to the jeans and white t-shirt with quarter-link sleeves; this L nothing of the like—it was strange.

    “It’s nice to meet you,” L was cordial and asked, “What are your names?”

    As L’s attention set on him, Light realized he had been staring. How could he not? The man, his archenemy, back from the dead, alive and kicking… it would take him some time to remember not to harass the man.

    His insides tingled as a laugh moved up his throat. “You don’t remember me?

    L blinked, confused. “Have we met before?”

    Soichirou stepped forward, “Ryuuzaki, I’m Yagami Soichirou. This is my son, Light. You guys were good friends in college.”

    L put a finger to his lips. “Yagami? Then you must be the one who sent and locked me away in that funeral home.”

    “Ah!” Soichirou was shocked at the man’s bluntness and felt embarrassed all of the sudden. L didn’t think of it as though he had said something innocent. “Ryuuzaki, I had no idea that you were still…”

    “It is fine, Yagami-san,” said L, his lips twisting into a cat-like smile, “Dr. Uramura has located the doctor who pronounced my death, and I have spoken with him myself. I did not tell him that it was I, though. I don’t want any media attention.”

    Light nodded, realizing his foe would not just fall dead again. “You haven’t changed at all.”

    “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

    Faking sadness emanating from within, Light smiled weakly. “You really can’t remember anything… can you?”

    “That’s not entirely true…,” L corrected Light as he stared at him. Light’s heart began to race and he was seconds away from twitching from his gaze. “I remember that man that saved me—his name was Tokama. I’m very smart—or that’s what I think. The doctors insist on advancing me through my tests. I also seem to know all these different languages yet—I can’t really tell which ones I know though.”

    “I’m sorry to hear that.”

    Interjecting in his conversation with L, Soichirou said, “Ryuuzaki, you’ll be moving in with us tomorrow. Is that okay with you?”

    L went back to his seat and sat down in his crouched position. “Did I reside there beforehand?”

    “No, you didn’t.”

    “Then, where did I live?”

    “In a dormitory on campus,” Light said, “They gave up your dorm when they heard of the accident…”

    L looked at him, confused as ever. Gently, he grasped his bony knees. “And of this accident—how did it happen? No one ever told me…”

    Here came the difficult part; should Light tell him the truth or make of a story until he was able to formulate a plan? Alternatively, could he combine the two options? A little bit of a white lie and the rest about what had happened to create a third option.

    Light sighed and he ran his long fingers through his hair. “Well, this is what happened—your heart stopped and we rushed you to the hospital. The doctors that checked you said your heart had completely stopped and after an hour of them working on you—they pronounced you dead…”

    L’s eyes widened as Light tried to remain collected—he only had a few minutes of self-control left.
 

Death Note: Memories (Prologue)

    Death was horrible. Surely this was death. He was surrounded by darkness. Perhaps he was blind. And maybe deaf, too, since all he could hear was the rushing of blood in his swirling head. He was sore. His muscles felt like they hadn’t been used in days, or longer, and who knew how long he had been here?

    But what was here? What was this place? He was too sore to move and feel around, but he could feel the floor under him. He felt a cloth fabric, some cushioning, and something hard under that. Against his body’s protests, he scooted his hand away from him. It hurt, badly. Little pricks and tingles stabbed his nerves. His hand didn’t go far before it hit the wall next to him. He did the same to the other and saw it was about the same distance apart. That wasn’t good. He lifted his right hand up, too quickly, and it smacked into the ceiling, which was only mere inches from his face. Not good. Not good.

    Now he was panicking. He was in a box. Claustrophobia was setting in and his anxiety levels were rising. A sound came from his mouth, a breathy moan, nearly inaudible. But he heard it, so he wasn’t deaf. He licked his lips, feeling the dry skin of his lips scrape against his tongue. His throat was dry and he tried to swallow saliva that wasn’t there.

    “Waaaah,” he cried at breathily, “Aaaagh….Argh!…..Arrrrgh! Arrrrgh! Aaaaah!” Ignoring the pain in his muscles, he banged his fists on the top of the box, slamming his palm against it. “AAAAH! AAAAH! AAAAH!” His mind shouted ‘Help me!’ but what came out of his mouth was “¡Ayúdeme! Helfen Sie mir!” Let me out! “Faites-moi sortir! Освободите меня!” He didn’t know what he was shouting out. All he heard was his voice, was it his voice?, in his head that cried out for help. “Aiutilo!” He banged harder and harder, and his fists and palms hurt so badly. “Help me! Help me! Help me!” Now he was bumping his knees with the ceiling. “Tasukete!”

    He was scared. Who wouldn’t be? His eyes were instantly moist, but his throat and tongue were dry as the desert. Every sound he made came out hoarse. He didn’t even know he was shouting in different languages. He just wanted to get the hell our of there.

    And then he heard it. A sound of hope. Oh gods, the metaphorical light had come to his rescue!

    “Is there someone there?” came the mumbled reply.

    He wept. Someone had come! “Help me!” he shouted, matching the language he had heard his savior say, “Help me! I’m in here! Get me out!”

    “Hold on buddy!” said the voice on the other side of his prison, his angel.

    Oh gods, thank you! Thank you! Thank you!

    There was the sound of wood creaking and cracking. Then, he saw through splinters, a tiny bit of dim light. The person who came to his rescue was using a metal tool. It looked to be a crowbar. So the box had been nailed shut. No wonder he couldn’t budge it.

    And then the top came off. He saw who his savior was. It was a stout-looking uniformed man, a security guard. He had on a bushy mustache and a double chin. The ceiling light behind him made it look like he was glowing.

    “Are you okay, buddy?” asked the savior. “What were you doing in there?”

    The savior’s pudgy hands went under his armpits and lifted him out of the box that could have been his coffin. Then, when he was out of the box and trying to stand on weak legs, using the savior as a leaning post, he saw that it was a coffin. It was elegant and white and gold. What was he doing in there? Was he dead? No, he was clearly alive.

    “What’s your name buddy?” asked the savior.

    He blinked at the savior. He racked his brains, but it seemed his thoughts were too far away and kept scurrying away from him. Name? Name…Name…Name…Name…

    Nothing came. He couldn’t find an answer. And now he was in a new panic. He searched the hollows of his mind for an answer, a clue, a hint, anything!

    “What’s your name?” repeated the savior.

    He blinked. “I…I dunno.”

    The savior’s eyes widened slightly. “Well, what do you remember?”

    And he told him what familiarity he found in his brain. “Nothing.”

    He didn’t know who he was, where he was, or how he got there. He was a stranger to himself.

    “C’mon,” said the pork-belly savior, “I’m taking you to the hospital.”

    As the savior half carried him, he looked around. The place was bland. It had only white walls and tiled floors. Then they went through the door and there was a sudden change in scenery. It was more elegant, but still cluttered with caskets.

    “Excuse me,” he asked, “Where are we?”

    His savior looked back at him. The frown he had made more lines on his face. “We’re at the Hosho American Style Funeral Home.”

    He looked down at his feet. So he was dead, supposedly dead. Someone had thought he was dead.

    “Let’s see who, uh, dropped you off here,” said the savior. He was led into a small office. He waited against the wall, his thumb nail in between his lips. The savior looked through paper work.

    “Here we go,” said his rescuer, “It says here that a Mr. Yagami was the one who dropped you off. Does he sound familiar to you?”

    He looked down again, furrowing his eyebrows. Yagami…Yagami…Yagami… Again, it felt like the answer was there, but was out of his reach. It was frustrating.

    “Nothing?”

    He shook his head.

    The fat angel sighed. “Well, just sit there. I’m going to call an ambulance and get you into a hospital, then I’m going to call this Mr. Yagami, and see if he’s responsible for you.”

    He nodded. Then he sat himself down on one of the metal chairs that was against the wall. He had his feet on the ground, and that felt uncomfortable. He brought his knees to his chest. Better. Then, he lifted his buttocks off the chair, but his balance was off and he fell back down. Why was sitting so damn difficult?

    “Here we go!” He looked up and saw the porky uniformed officer holding a document, “It says here your name is Ryuuzaki! Hm, no last name. I’m guessing that Yagami is your last name. Does that sound familiar?”

    He shook his head. “No,” he mumbled, “It…It doesn’t…” There was no familiarity with that name, either. Was he really Yagami Ryuuzaki? There was no way to tell now.

    While his savior made phone calls to a hospital and for the person who ran the funeral, he, perhaps it was time for him to go by Ryuuzaki? Yes, he will call himself Ryuuzaki for now. So, while his savior made phone calls, Ryuuzaki wracked his brain again and again, but, like cockroaches to a light, he couldn’t find answers. It was like he didn’t exist until he woke up in that casket. Perhaps he was once dead and he came back to life?

    Who knows?

Summary: Naruto suddenly turns into a kitsune boy, (ears, tails, the works) and with his new transformation, the boys of Konoha are suddenly lusting over him. What’s a fox boy to do? Everyone/Naru; this is between Chuunin and Shippuden so it is with a minor. Oh, and there will be a lemon for every chapter. Don't like, don't read. And there will be a plot, but you won't know until in later chapters. Enjoy.

 Mature readers only!!!!!

Chapter One: The Tale of the Tail

 

            There was something wrong with him, he knew. Jiraiya looked down at the blonde haired boy who was staring at his first ramen bowl that he had begged for earlier. He had taken one bite of the noodles, and then put down his chopsticks. Jiraiya had never seen Naruto do something as strange as turn down his favorite food.

 

            “Does it not taste good?” Jiraiya asked. They were not in Konoha so perhaps it was not like Ichigaku ramen, which Naruto had basically lived off of.

 

            Naruto looked up at him, “No, it’s fine. It’s just…for some reason I’m no longer hungry. I feel full.”

 

            Jiraiya wrinkled his eyebrows in a concerned way. “You were just starving earlier.”

 

            Naruto pushed his bowl away with a large frown. “I know. I’m going to go back to the tent,” he said as he got up. Jiraiya watched his back as he walked away, feeling troublesome for the boy. But it was not something to worry about; the boy had only lost his appetite this once. He’ll get better by tomorrow.

 

            But tomorrow, Naruto did not eat at all, and although he did not tell Jiraiya he wasn’t feeling well, the sannin could tell by the way Naruto was drooping his shoulders and taking more time to rest. When lunch time came around, Jiraiya told Naruto to eat or he’d shove it down his throat. He could tell the boy was forcing the food down his throat, only to upchuck all the contents ten minutes later.

 

            At night Naruto would squirm around, waking Jiraiya with all the rustling. He assumed he was getting too hot at night because when he woke up to get Naruto up, he saw the boy was in his birthday suit, covers tossed to the side, and spread eagled on the futon. He was breathing hard, an uncomfortable look on his face.

 

            Jiraiya decided it would be best for Naruto wake himself; besides, he had important matters to attend to in the shower.

 

            Naruto tried to eat breakfast, but as soon as the toast touched his lips, he was getting acquainted with the toilet. Even though there was obviously something wrong, he still insisted to train. Jiraiya watched from the sidelines as Naruto and his kage bunshin double sparred. But only after a few minutes, Naruto was too worn out and the clone disappeared with a ‘poof’. Naruto was panting for breath, grabbing his knees for support.

 

            “Naruto?” Jiraiya called.

 

            Then Naruto lost his balance and his knees unlocked and he fell. His eyes were tightly closed and his breathing was returning to normal, but he did not wake up. Jiraiya walked over, picked him up, slung him over his shoulder, and walked back to the camp. He was in no fit condition to train.

 

            Later that night, Jiraiya was awoken again by Naruto, but this time it was different. He thought, at first, that Naruto was doing most boys his age did at night and in the prime of puberty, and should not be bothered and pretend to be asleep, but it just did not seem right. Lifting his head slightly, he glanced in Naruto’s direction. He saw his hands, but they were not where he thought they would be. He had them close to his chest, curled up in a fetal position, again naked as the day he was born. His skin was raw red, sweat pouring from him, soaking his sleeping bag, and he was grunting and groaning with pain.

 

            “Naruto?” Jiraiya called out to the boy, sitting up. Naruto didn’t answer but started whimpering and trembling.

 

            Something was most definitely wrong with him.

 

            Jiraiya moved over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder to shake him awake, only to snatch it back. His skin felt like it was on fire.

 

            “Naruto!”

 

            “Nnng!”

 

 

            “He’s running a very high fever,” Tsunade said, wiping her hand across Naruto’s forehead, who was asleep in a hospital bed.

 

            Jiraiya frowned. “He hasn’t eaten in two days. He just throws it up.”

 

            Tsunade nodded. “Yes, he is slightly malnourished and dehydrated.”

 

            Naruto was hooked up several pain relievers and sedatives. In case he needed help breathing, he had a tube go into each nostril.

 

            “But there is something I want you to see,” Tsunade said as she lifted the sheet off Naruto, pulling it down to his hips. The Kyuubi seal was clearly shone, except…

 

            “It’s fading,” Jiraiya said solemnly.

 

            Tsunade nodded. “I was fearing this from the start,” she said as she replaced the sheet. “The Kyuubi’s chakra is leaking out, but not in a way that I thought it would.”

 

            Jiraiya looked at his old teammate. “What do you mean?”

 

            “You know how Naruto uses the red Kyuubi chakra it acts like a barrier around him,” she said, crossing her arms, “This time it’s seems to be infusing with not only Naruto’s own chakra, but with Naruto himself.”

 

            “What do you mean?”

 

            Tsunade looked back at Naruto, frowning. “It’s like…he’s becoming Kyuubi.” Jiraiya couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped from him. “I don’t know what will happen. He could lose his mind and become a beast, or he could conquer and tame the chakra, but since the chakra is like poison, it doesn’t seem to be the later.”

 

            Jiraiya looked down at his student, imagining him a raving animal with red eyes, large fangs, and covered in innocent people’s blood. It was horrifying.

 

            “What do we do if what you think might happen, does happen?” he asked in a broken voice.

 

            There was a pause. Tsunade seemed to be going after every scenario that she could think of. Finally she said in a voice so low that he almost didn’t hear her.

 

 

            Kakashi had just gotten word that his hyperactive blond student had just come back with Jiraiya, only to wound up in the hospital. He had picked out a small bouquet of purple flowers (he did not know what they were called) and had just walked into the hospital and saw Sakura at the front desk.

 

            “What do you mean I can’t see him?” she asked the front desk nurse.

 

            “I’m sorry,” answered the nurse, “But Tsunade-sama ordered us not allow anyone to see Naruto-kun at this time. I’m sorry.”

 

            Sakura frowned. “But I’m Tsunade-sensei’s apprentice. And Naruto is my friend! You have to let me see him!”

 

            “I’m sorry, ma’am,” said the nurse again, “but we can’t let anyone see him except for the doctors and Tsunade-sama herself.”

 

            Sakura placed her hands on the counter and leaned forward. “Can you tell me why he’s in here in the first place? Is he sick? Injured? What?”

 

            “I’m sorry, but it’s confidential. If you want to know anymore, then I suggest you talk to Tsunade-sama.”

 

            Sakura sighed, and that was when Kakashi walked up behind her.

 

            “So I can’t know about my student’s health, either?” he asked.

 

            The nurse shook her head. “I’m sorry, but no. I don’t make the rules, I just obey them.”

 

            “I see.” Kakashi looked back to Sakura. “Well, there’s nothing we can do here, let’s go.”

 

            Sakura watched him with a shocked expression as he turned on a heel and walked away. She followed after him.

 

            “How can you just walk away when there’s something wrong with Naruto?” she asked, exasperated. “He’s your student! We have to see him! To make sure he’s okay! Kakashi-sensei!”

 

            Kakashi did not answer her, but walked around to the rear of the hospital. He made a cross with his two fingers and then in a puff of smoke, he was transformed into a white smock wearing medical ninja.

 

            “Like a good ninja,” Kakashi said in a voice that wasn’t his, “one must try different methods to cross into enemy territory to save one’s teammate.”

 

            Sakura broke out in a smile and nodded. “Yeah!”

 

            Following his example, she used the henge no justsu to transform also into a medical ninja. The two of them, acting as professional as they could, marching up to the front desk.

 

            “We were sent from Hokage-sama to tend to the boy Uzumaki Naruto,” said Kakashi, “Can you tell us which room he is staying in?”

 

            The nurse smiled. “Oh yes, he definitely needs all the help he can get.” Kakashi felt his heart twist slightly. ‘All the help he can get’? How bad of a shape was he in? “He’s upstairs in the west wing. Room 212.”

 

            “Thank you.” Kakashi and Sakura bowed and made they’re way to the stairwell.

 

            “What do you think happened?” Sakura asked her sensei when the coast was clear.

 

            Kakashi did not look at her. “I’m not sure. We’ll know once we see him.”

 

            They walked to the second floor, searching for room 212, when they suddenly heard a loud crash and the sound of breaking glass.

 

            “He’s escaped!” yelled a medic, running down the hall, “Someone call ANBU or Tsunade-sama, or someone!”

           

            Kakashi and Sakura looked at each other, bother with shocked scared expressions.

 

            “We need security! Uzumaki Naruto just jumped out the window! After him! He’s not in his right state!”

 

            Kakashi and Sakura suddenly ran down the hall where the shouting was coming from. They ran to a door where three other doctors were standing, and they pushed them away to see inside. Inside there was a hospital bed with the bedding sprawled on the floor, and the window had been broken with a hole big enough to show that Naruto had jumped.

 

            “We have to go after him,” Sakura said. Kakashi nodded and they hurried outside where they turned back to their normal selves.

 

            “You go east, I’ll go west,” Kakashi said and they sprinted off.

 

            In only half an hour, Kakashi spotted Naruto’s hospital gown on the floor. So he was naked now, and he had to have come by this way. Seeing no other choice, he pulled up his hitai-ate to show his left eye that held the Sharingan. Using his skilled eye, he was able to search for Naruto better. It was not until he saw the blond huddled under a large gap in a tree.

 

            Kakashi landed in front of Naruto, who had his legs curled up to his chest and his face was in the shadows.

 

            “Naruto,” Kakashi said in a calm voice, “There you are. We’ve all been worried. Why are you out here?”

 

            “Because there’s something wrong with me,” came Naruto’s reply with a hint of a sob.

 

            “What’s wrong with you?” Kakashi asked as he bent his knees to get to Naruto’s level, but still he could not see the boy’s face.

 

            “I look different.”

 

            “Well, when you’re sick you can look different, but that’s why you have to go back to the doctors; so they can make you as good as new.”

 

            He saw Naruto shake his head. “No, being sick doesn’t make me look like this. I look like a monster.”

 

            Kakashi frowned and let his eyes wonder over Naruto’s frail tiny, naked body. He could see nothing out of place or misshapen. But next to him, curled up beside him, seemed to be a small gold colored animal. Nothing out of the ordinary yet.

 

            “I don’t see anything wrong with you,” Kakashi said, “Why don’t you come out and let me get some clothes on you, and you can tell me what’s wrong?”

 

            “No clothes!” Naruto shouted. He rubbed his arms, gripping at them slightly. “They feel weird.”

 

            “They feel weird?” Kakashi repeated to make sure he heard right. “Well, the hospital gowns do show too much if you ask me.”

 

            “Not the gown,” Naruto said, “I don’t mind them as much. It’s all clothes. I feel weird in them. I feel hot and uncomfortable. Ero-sennin tried buying me better clothes but they all feel the same. I feel better…” Although he could not see, Kakashi had a feeling Naruto was blushing. “…naked.”

 

            Kakashi leaned back, blinking in disbelief. Was this a little boy phase? Shouldn’t he be over the naked phase, though? Kakashi shook his head and smiled.

 

            “Well, we’re both men here,” he said, “Why don’t you come out and tell me what’s wrong with you?”

 

            Naruto again shook his head. “No, because you’ll think I’m ugly.”

 

            “How can I think you’re ugly? I can see enough of you now to know that you’re not,” Kakashi said. “Now come out; I swear I won’t think you’re ugly.”

 

            A few moments passed where Naruto did nothing, Kakashi thought the boy was pouting, but then he shifted, and so did the furry animal by his side. Slowly he crawled out of the gap and into Kakashi’s view. The jounin could not help but widen his eyes at the sight.

 

            At first, he saw there was nothing wrong with Naruto at all. His blue eyes were the same, shining so brightly even though he clearly was afraid of what Kakashi would say. Except for being naked, Naruto looked exactly the same. His hair was still golden blonde and still pouty lips, and he still had the identical birthmarks on his face that resembled scratches or whiskers. How could Naruto think he was ugly? But Kakashi could see how something was not quite right about him, and it did not take him long to spot it.

 

            His hair was different. It was more pointed at two sides. When Kakashi looked further, he didn’t quite understand what he saw. That wasn’t hair, it looked like…but how?

 

            Naruto sat down on his legs, and the animal who had laid next to Naruto suddenly curled across his hips. The thing wasn’t an animal at all. It was a tail! A tail connected to Naruto’s own backside! He had a furry blonde tail with a white tip. It looked so soft and fluffy that Kakashi was very tempted to touch it, stoke it, and feel if it was real. And there was nothing wrong with his hair, those were ears! They were pointy and about four inches long, blonde with white tips, just like his tail, and looking just as soft.

 

            But even with these strange mutations, he could not say that Naruto was “ugly”. Quite the opposite; Kakashi was not a pervert (minus him reading erotic stories and loving the naked body) but he could not help think of one word when he saw Naruto’s new body.

 

            Sex.

 

            He had never been attracted to a child before, but the sudden hardness he held made him contradict whether or not he was a pedophile.

 

            “Kakashi-sensei?” Naruto muttered, “Do you hate how I look? You keep staring at me.” A cute pink blush covered his cheeks.

 

            Could you blame him for staring? The blond was not just pretty, but gorgeous! He didn’t say anything but lifted a hand and gently touched Naruto’s left furry ear, watching with amusement and bewilderment as it twitched at his touch, then slowly down his face until it cupped his cheek.

 

            “Kakashi-sen…”

 

            Unfortunately, Naruto was not able to answer. Kakashi had pulled him forward, using his opportunity to invade Naruto’s open mouth with his tongue. Both were very shocked by his actions, but he could not stop. He had to have more, but the damn fox boy pulled away.

 

            “K-K-Kashi-sen-sensei,” he stuttered, “W-Wh-What are you doing?”

 

            Kakashi was not aware that he was breathing hard until he was unable to speak until he caught his breath. “I…I don’t know, but…I can’t stop.”

 

            He pushed himself against Naruto, roughly kissing him again, raping his mouth with his tongue, twirling it with Naruto’s. The boy moaned against him, sounding more like an animal’s mewl more than anything. His hand traveled down the boy’s back and met with his furry tail that was connected with his tail bone. He petted the tail, watching it curl around his hand as he moved up to the tip, then back down to the base. It was soft, very soft and fluffy, just as he imagined it. He brushed the underside of it, feeling the fur across his fingers until he brushed up against the crack of Naruto’s rear. The boy let out another mewl against Kakashi’s lips, jumping slightly from such a strange touch.

 

            Kakashi gently moved down the center of Naruto’s rear, using his middle finger to guide him until he touched with the tight little skin of Naruto’s hole. The boy let out another sound, moving his lips from Kakashi’s, squeezing his shoulders and digging his newly developed claws into Kakashi’s vest. Kakashi pressed against Naruto’s tight entrance, knowing it would be hard and probably painful to push his finger inside, but he wanted feel Naruto’s tight muscles wrap around his fingers just as his tail had done his hand when he stroked it.

 

            “Ka-Kakashi-sensei!” Naruto cried at as the tip of his sensei’s finger entered him, “Wh-What are you doing?”

 

            Kakashi’s chest was heaving while he continued to breathe very heavily. He couldn’t say he didn’t know now, because now he did know. He wanted to do this and continued in his own state of mind. “I’m going to make you feel pleasure you never dreamt of,” he whispered into Naruto’s furry ear, watching with humor as it twitched when the fur touched Kakashi’s lips. Kakashi took the furry tip into his teeth, nibbling on it. Naruto whined in his throat as he was probed into deeper by his sensei.

 

            Then Naruto arched so sharp, pressing his chest against Kakashi’s vest. His rectal muscles squeezed Kakashi’s finger strongly, and he knew that he had touched what was known as the “sweet spot”. Going against Naruto’s internal effort to stop him from going, Kakashi kept rubbing his finger against it, raping away his virgin prostate, pushing against it harder and harder. But that was not all he would be doing. He used his other hand, his free hand, to grab Naruto’s erection, yes erection; it seemed the boy was enjoying this more than he let on. He grasped the shaft in his palm, rubbing the tip with his thumb as he squeezed the sensitive skin.

 

            “Kaka…sensei…” Naruto breathed as he still arched against his sensei. Kakashi then began to fully pump the boy with the same rhythm he was using to finger fuck him. Harder and harder, he pumped and pushed. Faster and faster he continued until…

 

            “Aa~h!” Naruto cried out and a spurt of white flooded his chest, getting some on Kakashi’s vest. His back dipped up and down as he tried to catch his breath by panting. His head was bowed against Kakashi’s shoulder.

 

            Kakashi had removed his finger, and unintentionally, licked across it. And suddenly it hit him: He had raped his student.

 

            “Oh shit,” Kakashi said with realization, “Oh no. I’m sorry Naruto. I shouldn’t have…I can’t believe…I shouldn’t have done that to you! I’m so sorry!”

 

            Naruto swallowed and lifted his head up, his shining blue eyes looking deep into Kakashi’s, and then he smiled.

 

            “It felt good.” Naruto pulled himself away from Kakashi, wiping his chest but only smearing his remnants. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell if you don’t.”

 

            Kakashi’s jaw dropped. “Naruto, are you okay?”

 

            Naruto nodded. “Yes, Kakashi-sensei, I’m perfectly well. I don’t hate you for what you did because I enjoyed it…a lot.”

 

            There was a pause before Kakashi said in disbelief, “You won’t tell?”

 

            “Nope.”

 

            “But that was awful of what I did…”

 

            Naruto pressed a finger to his lips. “I liked it. And, believe it or not, you gave me the confidence to accept the way I now look. Thank you.”

 

            And to show that he truly meant it, he leaned in and licked the side of Kakashi’s nose before standing up.

 

            “Now, if you don’t mind, I need head back to the hospital before Tsunade-baa-chan yells at me.”

 

            And Kakashi watched as the kitsune boy walked away, his new tail swinging with his hips and the tail of it twitching. He was cute, very cute, and also very seductive without truly knowing. But not all pleasure was good from such seductiveness. Kakashi would have to make sure that nothing horrible would be done to Naruto, especially now of his new body.

 

            But first, some serious masturbation was in order.

Try this site. It has great scans of YGO Doujinshi of all kinds of couples.
http://www.yami-yugi.com/darkroses/yugiscans01.html