deadly_garden | Nothing I Won't Give [RL with Kid and Kuronue, forward dated to the 25th]

Kid let out a low whistle when they entered the castle. So this was the Makai (or at least a part of it). The thief had to admit he had been interested in taking a trip to the demon world ever since Urameshi mentioned it to him in passing conversation. He, of course, was warned against ever visiting if he could help it. But this time it was an emergency.

Besides, it's not like he had come alone. He had Kurama with him (who for some reason had long silvery hair and fox ears today, Kid couldn't remember seeing him with those. Ever. He idly wondered where they came from and figured now wasn't the time to ask). Granted, Kid didn't really need the protection of the older thief. He was quite sure he could take care of himself.

It was... just better to be safe than sorry. Yes, that was it.

When he was finished surveying the castle (and wondering if he had just been pulled into a fantasy novel and should break out his level ten power sword) he turned to Kurama, one eyebrow quirked (not that you could tell with the brim of his hat being pulled so far down). "Should I come with you for now?" he asked. There were no guards in sight (yet) but he had a feeling they might run into some.

He hoped they were big and stupid. Kid liked dealing with big and stupid.

He barely spared a glance for Kid, focusing right now on finding Kuronue. Already walking along, searching for any clues for the bat's presence -- very deep down, he was afraid it had all been a dream, or still was -- he replied "Best if you do; they'll happily kill you inside of a second if you're alone."

Kid laughed weakly. That's what everyone had told him about demons from the Makai. Were they really all that vicious?

The thief was walking backwards behind Kurama, hands in his pockets, as the watched the hallway behind them (that way no one could sneak up on them). "Doooon't worry," he said nonchalantly, "I'm quite certain I can handle myself if I happen to run into any."

Which was an ironic statement, considering there were two big, burly and green-skinned guards waiting for the duo just around the corner.

Big and stupid was a fair assumption - at least Kuronue flashed a secret fanged grin at the dark, at the silence, and assessed it himself to be the case when a few moments of faux raving and screaming and clawing at the walls fooled the lot of them. 'He's gone mad,' one muttered, elbowing the other, who nodded in agreement. Who would question a prisoner making sounds, laughing sobbing or yelling at nothingness, if that prisoner'd cracked?

He rolled his head back against the wall behind him, wincing at the sore cramping in his wings, and flexed his wrist and fingers carefully again in the shackle. He'd already learned it couldn't be broken, the best he'd managed was dislocating the fingers and breaking the thumb of his left hand to escape from the second.

Right had was trickier. He had a hole through the wrist, made it hard to move. He sighed and squinted at the barred door in front if him, then cracked a weak grin. "... can't believe that worked," he whispered to the silence, eyes rolling shut in exhaustion. His ribs ached and several wounds protested when his weight shifted awkwardly, enough to prop an arm under his head. It'd go numb by evening but it took pressure off his chest. It was starting to gurgle a little when he breathed - probably not a good sign.

Eh, he'd lived through worse.

Those two guards? Were now just rotting chunks of meat on the floor of the castle in the blink of an eye.

Kurama walked past them, gingerly avoiding getting their blood on his white shoes as he licked the Whip's thorns clean. "Of course you can, Kid-san," he drawled.

Suddenly his head popped up, eyes wide. He sniffed delicately, separating scents in his mind. One scent stood out among the rest, clear as day and bright as yesterday's memory. "Kuro..." he breathed, dashing off in the direction of the smell.

Kid winced and stepped over the remains of what had been trollish guards. He reminded himself not to make Kurama angry (had he thought that before? Or was it another demon? He had met so many on that community that he had lost track).

And then the silver-haired fox had taken off down the hallway, and Kid had to let out a yelp. "Oi oi, wait up!" he said as he bolted after his companion, one hand clutching to his tophat so it didn't fly off as he ran.

Looks like Kurama had found who he was looking for.

Shouting. Something fell in the distance, the suspicious wet 'thump' and seeping shadow-whisper of a body hitting the ground, and in the distance sensitive ears picked up on the sound of running footsteps. Nobility in a civil coup again, assassinations, piss-drunk guards slitting one anothers bowels out across the floor over lost card games - death wasn't unusual in the Makai. He groaned and turned his face further against one grimy elbow.

Prison acoustics were the absolute worst. Every small drip of water on stone was like amplified, every footstep or scream from other cells, the scurry-slither of insects and parasites in the walls or crawling in dank hay that passed for tatami mats or sleeping cots. Not to mention the smells, it made for a true inability to sleep.

He rubbed his cheek into the arm and yawned, then collapsed into brief coughing, grimaced, and spat to the side. Lovely. Just a brief bat-nap and he'd dig out the book again, but with the guards doing whatever the hells and the stench of blood that wasn't his own in the air, he didn't dare risk it yet. Inari above, but he hated prisons. Although it wasn't like they were known for the ambience.

Blood. It was his blood. That smell had been embedded in his nose for over six centuries. So much so that almost all blood carried a hint of the scent.

By this point he had forgotten Kid existed, thinking only of that night and his failure. The failure that, thanks to the community, he was finally getting to set right.

Slicing his way through every demon he saw, uncaring if they were a guard or civilian, he finally reached the door between him and his goal.

"Kuronue!"

Wow. Kid hadn't know Kurama for long, but he always seemed so much calmer than this. Then again, the thief couldn't blame him. If it had been Aoko, after all, he would have been reacting the exact same way.

... although the fox demon could have ran a bit slower. Or... maybe avoided slaughtering all those demons. Kid had no idea how to clean demon blood out of white clothing. He briefly wondered if Jii-chan did.

After they finally reached the cell, Kid had to lean over and rest his hands on his knees to catch his breath for a moment (it was weird, being tired. He usually never got this way. Then again, he usually never ran to keep up with a demon). He heard Kurama say something and was about to speak himself, when there was the sound of loud and very gruff yelling coming from the hallway.

Well then, looks like the commotion they caused getting here had caught the attention of the guards.

Kid sighed. "I will be right back!" he stated cheerfully with a tip of his hat. Kurama probably wanted to stay with Kuronue, and the magician was adept at causing distractions...

He retreated back into the hallways he and Kurama had come from, disappearing with a flash of white cape. A few moments later, there was a loud yell from that direction (something that sounded oddly like 'HEY STUPID'), a loud bang (probably a firecracker) and the sound of amused and arrogant laughter as it echoed through the stone walls for a while before it disappeared completely.

One ear twitched before his head lifted a fraction. The sudden cacophony of noise made him grimace, but it was a familiar racket although at a volume he was unused to. Kurama wasn't the kind who shouted, who raised his voice for any reason, he was a creature of low purrs and smirks whose voice went quieter with anger, softer with pain. The yell itself is what caught his attention, more-so than his name.

He almost reached for the book out of reflex but the voice was coming from the door, the damned door, and he'd told Kurama not to come he'd tried to make him swear -

"Fox...?"

His voice rasped in surprise and he hauled forward against the chain, blue eyes flaring wide. "Fox, what're you doin' here?"

He sighed with abject relief. "Thank Inari," he breathed softly, taking a moment to rest his head on the wood. It was cold, icy cold, which put the fear of hypothermia into his mind. Louder he called back, letting a smirk tinge his voice. "Rescuing you, of course."

He pulled a seed out of his long silver mane and inserted it into the keyhole, letting it do exactly what he'd breed it to do: Pick the lock. "I did say I would be here soon, did I not?"

How cryptic. Kuronue bit off a retort and stared at the door in mixed admiration and fear. The guards were foolish and easily manipulated but also strong. Had the silver fox come for him alone - no, there was another voice off in the distance, barely penetrating through the haze of headache. He wrenched at his wrist again with a low frustrated growl, fangs digging uselessly into his lower lip - what was Kurama thinking, coming after him like this?

"Why?" he finally managed in a pained gasp, "are you crazed? 's dangerous, why're you risking - d'ya have any idea how stupid this is?!"

Pride took a hit, maybe. He'd have torn his way free eventually, likely chewing through his own wrist if all else failed, never died in this rotting hole - who was he kidding. He slumped in place, breathing ragged and choppy, and grinned at how ridiculous it all was. Goddamn, Kurama had come back. He never went back.

He laughed softly, waiting for the telltale click of an opened lock. "I know exactly what I'm doing, Kuro-ai. I promise, and have I ever broken a promise to you?"

His tails -- all nine of them, where back then he only had six -- waved in irritation and impatience. Despite the calm in his voice, he wanted in there and he wanted in there now, and he was frighteningly close to breaking down the door.

"How bad is it?" he asked, mentally preparing himself for the worst his imagination had conjured over the years.

"Y'saw how bad," Kuronue muttered as he considered taking teeth to the shackle again, but losing more blood and opening further wounds to possible infection was a fool's move. He slouched and obediently took a mental inventory, eyes drooping shut for the moment. The apothecary here had done a patch-job, using fire and chemicals to close and stop the worst of the bleeder spots. Demonic healh rate had sluggishly tried to mend the rest, and he couldn't recall if there'd been stitches.

Things still felt broken and busted up, and tore open when he moved around too much to paint new coats of drying rust-red over his skin and clothes but he was alive. More or less. He breathed in slowly, coughed, then shrugged feebly sending the chains rattling.

"D'nno, 's bad pretty ... not too bad. 'm breathing, ne?" One eye cracked open, sparkling impishly in the dark. "Ain't nothin' got a hole through it I don't got two of."

That deserved an outright laugh, even as it deserved a stern smack to the back of the head. That was his bat, after all. He heard the rattle of the chain dimly and mentally urged his plant to hurry... then he registered the cough.

"Kuro-ai, keep talking to me, okay?" he asked, a tiny sliver of fear working its way up his spine.

The cough had been persistent since they'd tossed him in the cell, aggravated by the cold, but they'd kept him alive. All considered a cough and the occasional taste of blood sticking to his molars and spat out over the floor was a small price to pay for a pulse. He moved to sit up a bit straighter and grimaced as something pulled again; shifting around too much had dire consequences but hell, he felt like his entire body would go into atrophy if he didn't.

His breath was fogging in front of his mouth. "... feelin' more awake. 's night out? Gets colder at night." He blew a smoke-ring of mist just to see if he could, then coughed again, wet and hoarse.

"Tell me you di'n come down here alone. Might have t' haul me out of this pit."

Come on, come on, come on...

He shook his head, casting a glance over his shoulder. "Of course not. Couldn't get in without some help anyway," he replied, hoping that Kid was alright... though the dim explosions certainly put the odds in his favor.

"It is night," he agreed. "Moon's full, just like that night. The spilled blood of these fools glimmers in it like the stars.

Suddenly there was a muffled click sound. "Finally!" he cheered, throwing the door open and rushing into the room.

"Yeah...?" Blue eyes slit half open at the thought. Full moon, that meant the collection of days spent lifting small items off the guards for entertainment, struggling to eat whatever half-corroded food they tossed through the grate in the door and drinking the same water he was expected to bathe in. Had been a month. A month of this, and he fought back the irrational urge to start laughing because he knew, deep down, it was hysteric and he wouldn't be able to stop once it started.

The cell wasn't large, stone walls and hay kicked away, black with age. Everything was filthy, the bat himself left a stain where he touched, where he sat, a smear on the wall behind him, ugly red etched into the rock. His arm was twisted up at an angle but the video had shown that already - and his hair was a wreck, in his face and spilling dred-locked in spots. His hat had gone missing.

It was hard to say just from appearances how badly he was hurt, it was dark, except the strange crimson gleam of blue eyes when the light hit them right. His head rolled up with a series of quick blinks, free arm lifting to shield his face from the light with a wince before he smiled, crooked and boyish. "Hey, fox..."

Kurama's eyes swept the room first, even in his anger and worry still checking for threats before tending to the injured one. His eyes were as cold as gold coins, flashing in the dim light. He growled savagely as he took in the state of the cell, knowing that he had given everyone he'd come across in the castle a far too merciful death.

Deciding that there were no traps around to concern himself with, he approached Kuronue, slipping a hand between the bars that separated the two of them.

"Kuro?" he asked, still not sure it wasn't a dream.

It was a gesture that made Kuronue's smile slip, wavering at the corners and pulling tight. He leaned forward, wincing, his movements stiff and haltingly careful, and reached out with his free hand to try and touch. His fingertips could just barely graze the fox's, extended as far as they could. "Yeah," he managed, then slipped back to cover his mouth with the hand, bending a bit with another cough. His palm came away wet, and he curled his fingers around it quickly like a secret in the hopes his fox didn't catch it.

"Got some kind 'a ward on this thing, and can't get my hand t'unlock enough to get free of it yet."

He couldn't meet the kitsune halfway this time. As unfair as it was on Kurama to come all this way, he'd have to do all the work while the bat spat useless apologies for the trouble. In the distance the guards were shouting again - this far underground it echoed and sent the bat wincing, ears twitching back in reflex. "Not trapped, far as I can tell. Don't think they 'xpected you to really show, ne ...?"

He visibly shook himself out of the daze he'd fallen into and clenched his jaw at the scent of fresh blood. He was hurt worse than he'd suspected, of course. Kuronue always did tend to minimize some of the worst things.

"They should have expected me to show," he growled. "No one gets away with this if I have anything to say about it."

With that he pulled his hand back and set another plant to picking the lock on the bars. "I trust you gave them a serious fight when they caught you?" he asked as he waited.

"Not so much," Kuronue watched the plant, small velvet-green leaves peeking through the other side of the large lock and eating into the metal, and cracked a smile. Kurama's methods always were entertaining to watch; true, however, the scent of blood and pain were high and sharp in the air. Old injuries, new ones, deep and sore and refusing to close due to the depth of trauma. Possible infection in places; this wasn't the cleanest environment for a convalescent.

He downplayed injuries so often, evident when he spoke again, low words carried on the wings of a sigh. "Woke up in here, fox. Don't quite know what happened between there 'n here but it ain't pleasant, 's for sure."

His chin lifted, tilting towards the door to indicate the possibly-quite-dead guards just beyond. "They wanted t'know where the mirror was, so they kept me alive. Maybe hoped you'd get stupid 'n come to get me, and they'd have both of us, can't rightly say."

He could almost hear the raspy sound of Kuronoue's breathing, knowing he had to work fast... and fearing that his plants wouldn't be enough to help him and he would have to enlist the help of one of the community doctors.

...He really did not want to explain all this to Angie.

So he focused at this point on what he could do to at least start treating these injuries. Willow bark for certain, with all the pain Kuronue had to be in.

He growled, casting a sour look at the plant. "That stupid mirror. We shouldn't have even bothered with it," he spat. "Not worth the price we've paid for it."

Sorry, fox..." His voice trailed, faded off, and he knew he could continue on indefinitely whispering apologies specific to all the different facets of the crystalline wrongness of what had happened, but in the end the words were empty. His eyes slid shut on a self-recriminating flinch. True, he was suffering the physical pain of his glorious fuck-up, but his fox was experiencing that on an entirely higher level. Kurama'd lost him, thought him dead, Kuronue could only hazard what that'd felt like.

The plant was taking an extraordinarily long time. Or maybe it wasn't. Time was relative.

What had that mirror been, he couldn't fully recall, all the heists blended together here in the dark. His head was pounding, and he could hear every scrape and hiss of the plant working at the lock like small explosions behind his eyelids. It was night, but he still felt so ... tired.

Oh no. No, no, no, no. "Kuro-ai, stay with me. I should have the door open soon, promise," he whispered, leaning on the bars. This was the last thing he needed. He was strong, and he had his tails, but there was no way he was going to be able to carry Kuronue out and to Kid with the bat unconscious. "And don't apologize, the heist was my idea, remember?"

A soft click was the only warning he had before the door swung open, causing him to let out a surprised yip and almost fall into the cell with the bat. Recovering his footing was simple enough and he quickly went to Kuronue's side, putting an arm around his shoulders. "Kuro-ai?"

That heist ... I have this idea-

The voice of memory whispered in the back of his mind, seductive and smooth, '- there's a beautiful mirror, magical, if we can lift that we'll go down in history...'

A soft grunt of acnowledgment was the most Kurama got, though a gentle shake motivated blue eyes to slit open just enough, shadow ringed with a bone-deep exhaustion. "I remember," a soft breath in and he pressed forward, ignoring how his own filth stained up Kurama's eternal white purity. It'd always been that way, only now it showed externally. His mind had gone morbid, they said being locked up for long periods of time drove a man to madness but he'd never believed he'd fall prey to such.

"Shoulda listened, ne ...? Y'aren't coming, are you." He swallowed with an audible click, breathing in like it hurt, "y'aren't. I'll have to figure a way out of here, I have to. Can't let you think I died like that. 's my fault, my burden, not yours."

Shit, shit, shit... "Kuronue, I'm here. I'm right here, just like I said I would be. Don't you start hallucinating on me, you hear me?!" he all but yelled, even now mindful of their situation.

He ignored the blood seeping into his clothes as he fished around in his hair for his last plant. Quickly willing it to bloom, he then squeezed the nectar out onto the ward-metal. Acrid fumes rose from the shackle as the nectar ate away at it, slowly freeing his wrist. "It's not your fault," he soothed quietly. "I should have planned better, should have gotten a sturdier chain for the pendant."

He pressed his lips to blood caked hair at the crown of the bat's head. "Never your fault, always mine, you understand me?"

"Personal responsibility," Kuronue rasped softly, his forehead finding a nook to rest against somewhere near Kurama's throat. "Y'taught me that, ne ..? Got it back though." His hand lifted, fingers tangled tight through the broken chain of his pendant. "Not worth dyin' for. Thought about that a lot."

He coughed and pressed closer, breathing in the scent of blood and roses. Cloying, familiar, necessary. He couldn't recall what he'd done, how he'd lived, before that scent had so invaded his life. A desperate and meaningless existence.

A life worth throwing away in an instant, he'd wondered if that was his destiny. Breaking away as part of the tail of Kurama's shooting star, soft and sparkling dust in his wake, propelling him higher. That was worth dying for, never gems and trinkets, no matter how sentimental. "It's my fault. Ain't yours, y'can't say that."

Kurama stroked his hair, easing Kuronue's wrist out of the now worthless shackle. "Yeah, you got it back. And I'm proud of you for it."

He frowned at the spatter of blood that the bat coughed up. He was only thankful that it was dark. Old blood, not fresh. That hopefully meant that whatever had been bleeding had stopped.

"It's always my fault, Kuro," he softly insisted. "I should have watched you better, watched the guards better, done more scouting for traps." He'd never suspected that plants would one day become his enemy. "Now come on, we need to meet back up with the Kid and get out of here," he continued, nudging him to stand.

The hand didn't want to unclench; it'd seized in bruise and was healing badly around the cratering hole in the palm, a stigmata-esque wound from sharp bamboo. He forced the fingers to flex anyway, grimacing through clenched teeth, then hissed out a soft steadying breath. "... brought a kid along?" he asked dizzily, as strong hands lifted under his armpit and waist to half-haul him to his feet.

Lessened weight did have its perks. As a creature of flight, Kuronue weighed less than the average person half his size, hollowed out and feather light. It was more the awkwardness of trying to awaken sore limbs fallen asleep, and waking to cramps.

Getting to his feet was easy, staying upright was hard. He hissed, gripping against Kurama for balance, and nodded tensely to show he could manage. He'd walk across glass if it meant getting out of the thrice-damned cage. ".. 'm fine," he gritted, "let's go, huh?"

Kurama winced as he saw that particular wound, then shook his head at Kuronue's words. "That's just his professional name. He's a thief like us."

The weakness worried him, but if he thought he could manage at least getting to Kid, well, it was enough for the silver fox. And if he couldn't, Kurama was more than happy to carry him.

Putting an arm over his shoulders, the fox spared a moment to nuzzle behind an ear. "Yes, let's get out of here," he whispered, starting to slowly walk out of the dungeon.

You know, for all the warnings he received about how dangerous the demons in Makai were, Kid couldn't help but think that these guys were entirely too easy to take down.

All he had to do was distract them a bit and lead them on a goose chase through the cobbled maze of the castle (baiting them with catcalls and taunts and magic tricks like he did at every single one of his heists), and eventually they were stupid enough to accidentally knock each other out with their oversized fists.

Kid couldn't help himself. There was no way he could suppress a laugh after that. Luckily for him, his chortles (though they echoed down the hallways) didn't attract anymore guards. Or stronger demons.

For a moment, he debated on whether he should go back to Kurama just to make sure the fox demon was okay. But after he realized where the two guards had knocked each other out (right in the middle of the hallway next to the dungeon where Kuronue had been kept prisoner. Had he really been leading them in circles?) he figured it was best to wait. The two had to come this way to leave, after all.

The phantom thief had taken a perch right on top of the guard pile, and was sitting cross-legged as he amused himself by juggling a few colorful balls creatively and whistling a rather cheerful tune to himself. These demons were big and smelly, but they made pretty comfy chairs.

Sorta.

There'd been some fairly unusual events in his life the bat had played spectator to. Shadowed tents with overcast-hued veils and twisted bodies, freak shows they called them, bearded women and twisted repulsive dwarved creatures, enormously stretched uncomfortable looking women that could easily touch the rafters with elongated fingers. Juggling had odd connotations in a mind not yet steeped with the apathy of over-exposure the future brought. It was reserved for circus monsters and court jesters, and both were equally funny when perched atop the very guards he'd swiped his book from.

A gasping sound against Kurama's arm, and the bat dissolved into choked laughter, wings and shoulders quaking. It was too ridiculous not to.

Maybe he was lapsing finally into that hysteria he'd worried about. Maybe so. "See what y' mean," he finally gasped, eyes sparkling under a thick mess of tangled hair, "weird partner you got there, fox."

The fox smiled and nuzzled his hair, laughing along with him. "He's not exactly my partner, though he is a little unusual. A magician turned thief, in fact." He grinned at Kid, eyes sparkling.

"I see you managed to hold your own," he observed cheerfully. "Perhaps you should fight in the tournament as well."

He waved a hand, causing the demons he had felled earlier to erupt into improvised flower beds, each holding a single rosebush bearing black roses.

"I'd say we're through here, wouldn't the two of you?"

Laughter was always something Kid enjoyed hearing from his audience, and he grinned widely as he suddenly stopped juggling, whipped off his tophat, and caught the colored balls one by one. He replaced his hat and gave a mock bow to the other two demon thieves. "It wasn't that hard," he said a bit arrogantly, although he certainly felt like it was deserved. He was merely human, after all.

The white-clad thief leaped off of his makeshift couch, his cape fluttering behind him, just as Kurama turned them into rosebeds. He nodded his head and tilted his hat at Kurama. "The only way I'd fight is if the prize was shiny and fit in the palm of my hand," he answered honestly, "And even then I can't guarantee I wouldn't just steal it instead." Though the mention of a tournament did bring back memories of the Mascorrida in Zaza, and his stunning heist of the Sun Mask. But that had been so long ago.

With a slightly exaggerated flick of his wrist (and Kuronue would come to see many of Kid's movements were rather exaggerated. Thus was the style of a thief who enjoyed the performance more than the prize), he magically produced his trusty worldhopping mirror out of nowhere with a light 'pop.' "Where to, and I'll have us out of here faster than you can say 'Abracadabra.'"

"Gandera, Makai, 1994," Kurama informed him smoothly. He adjusted his hold on Kuronue as he smirked. "Yomi owes me a favor."

He dropped his head to whisper in Kuronue's ear. "We're going to do what's called 'worldhopping' now. It's a little strange, but that's about all there is to it." He pressed a quick kiss to the bat's cheek. Looking up at Kid, he smirked. "Ready when you are."

Distracted from asking what the hell 'abracadabra' was and meant, Kuronue blinked owlishly and nodded once to show he understood, even though he wasn't quite able to comprehend what he'd been meant to understand. 'World hopping' ... and the year was equally confusing. A spark of fear started at the nape of his neck, lifting the hairs there in a prickle of disease before shooting down his spine.

Worldhopping - what if they disappeared and he was left behind? He couldn't fly like this, and escaping the castle would be damned near impossible alone. His arm tightened subconsciously around Kurama's shoulders, and he swallowed again, but said nothing.

Voicing irrational fears only made a body look weak, and if he looked any weaker than he was, he'd be a corpse in their eyes.

Well, Kid had never heard of that place before, but as long as he had a name and a year, he could worldhop. With another nod, he reached out and grabbed Kurama's arm tightly in one hand, holding out the worldhopping mirror with the other.

In the blink of an eye, the trio was gone from the castle hallway.

... and landed right into Yomi's bedroom.

Kanzeon always did have a sense of humor with the equipment she provided her favorite thief.

...

At least Yomi wasn't in his bedroom, the silver thief thought as Kuronue finally passed out in his grasp. He chuckled softly -- he was suddenly doing that more, he noticed -- and nodded a farewell to Kid as he gathered the bat in his arms and carried him to his room.

A few baths and some medical attention was all Kuronue needed to being right as rain again, and Kurama couldn't be more grateful.

Nothing I Won't Give [RL with Kid and Kuronue, forward dated to the 25th]

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