InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ A Sacred Treasure and a Hanyou ❯ The Riddle of the New Moon and Naraku's Attentions ( Chapter 15 )

A/N: A few things before we get into this chapter. First, I must say that this chapter, despite its mildly warm and fuzzy feeling at the beginning, leads to...not so WAFFs later. There is a torture scene that, by my standards, is not bad -I've read worse- but I feel I should warn you.

Also, if you do not know what the White Tower is, the following link is a great place to check it out: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/White_Tower_%28Tower_of_London%29 It is said that Edward V and his brother were placed there by their uncle -and presumably were killed there. They are the subjects in a fairly famous painting by Sir John Everett Millais.

Theater of Blood is a very...weird movie -that I think everyone should see once- that has Vincent Price in it.

And last, thanks to Plastic Spoons (glad you like it, by the way ^_^) for reminding me that I never finished posting all of the chapters for this. I don't visit MediaMiner as often as I probably should, so I forget, sometimes, that I need to keep things updated here o_O

Enjoy.

 

 

Chapter 14

The Riddle of the New Moon and Naraku's Attentions

 

Inuyasha was restless. Kagome was gone -out shopping with the other girls that she was auditioning with- and there was nothing for him to do. He paced back and forth, like a cage animal, constantly playing the events that were to unfold over and over in his head. Every once in a while, something would distract him; the television, the sound of a boat's horn on the river, the different sounds his bare feet made as they crossed from the linoleum of the kitchen to the wood of the living room to the soft area rug that lay in the entrance. He heard the elevator doors open and close occasionally, heard the sound of voices, and he would instantly still, listening to the voices and wondering, waiting, hoping it was her. When the door didn't open, he would resume his meaningless prowl of the apartment.

He should leave, go out, find something to occupy himself. Kagome thought that they were going out tonight. Inuyasha wasn't quite sure where she had come up with that idea. It only served to make him feel more guilty, more anxious.

'She will reject you, think that you are disgusting,' a voice growled at him. He had come to recognize this voice. His demon, youkai, whatever one wanted to call it. It was the biggest, strongest, part of him; the part that tried to constantly rule, judge, take control. 'And why shouldn't she? You think the same things, your brother does, even that damned Naraku said you were filthy. And if Kagome has been spending time with him, who knows what ideas he has filled her head with. Who knows what she thinks of hanyou now.'

'But she is not like everyone else,' a quieter part of him protested. He recognized this voice too. Felt the demon inside of him sneer, 'human.' 'Why shouldn't she accept me as well? Why can't she fall in love with the demon and the human?'

The protest was quickly drowned out by the possessive snarl of the demon. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the way the river was starting to turn an orangey-blue as the sun came closer to the horizon. Inuyasha sank into the couch, elbows on his knees, holding his head in his hands, trying to will the voices in him to shut the hell up.

 

*

That was how Kagome found him, looking like he had just lost his best friend or his favorite dog. Through her concern, she felt slightly amused at that last thought as she watched his ears flick toward the sound of her walking across the room.

She set her bags down beside the couch and suddenly couldn't decide if she should sit next to him or stay standing.

“Inuyasha?” she asked, quietly, almost timidly.

The look in his golden eyes nearly broke her heart and sent thrills of alarm running through her. “What's wrong?” she asked, her feet suddenly rooted where she stood, wondering what had happened over the past few hours that had caused him to look so depressed, so sad.

“Tonight is the new moon,” he whispered.

Kagome didn't understand and her eyebrows lowered in confusion. “You mentioned something about this before.” His expression became even sadder, and she saw fear in his eyes. “What's going on, Inuyasha?”

He stood abruptly, started pacing in front of the balcony doors that were letting in the last, dying rays of sun. “I wanted to show you before you came here, wanted to give you some time away from me so you could really think about what you were getting yourself into.” He stopped, facing away from her, looking out the glass doors.

Kagome, in her life, had witnessed many sunsets. But she would never remember any of them as well the one she saw in London, in an apartment overlooking the Thames, with a hanyou that she had given her heart to.

Inuyasha turned to her, his ears twitched forward, his nose moving slightly as he took in the scent of her nervousness, the sound of her absolute stillness. She watched as those ears blurred before her eyes, wavered and then disappeared altogether. The dark sky behind him seemed to reach out inky fingers and run through his hair, starting at the roots and crawling down to the tips until it had consumed all the silvery-white. The pupils of his eyes seemed to widen, expand outward, until all traces of gold disappeared. When he held his hands up before him, looking mournfully down at them, she noticed that, instead of dangerous claws, he had only normal fingernails.

And the air around him seemed to move. She had been only subconsciously aware of his aura from the very beginning. It was what defined him, made him who he was. Now, she noticed it shifting, flaring for a brief second before seeming to shrink around him, leaving only a trace of itself.

Right before her eyes, Inuyasha had suddenly, magically, become...

“Human,” she whispered.

He raised his head, eyes so dark they matched the black of his hair staring at her with trepidation.

Kagome licked her lips and took a hesitant step toward him. He just stood there, watching her as she closed the distance between them. She looked over his dark hair, down to his regular, human hands. She caught the sorrowful, vulnerable gaze of dark eyes flecked with deep purple and maroon with her own and raised a hand to his face.

Kagome nearly cried when he flinched from her touch, as though he were a dog expecting a blow.

“Inuyasha?” She knew it was him, had witnessed the whole thing, but her mind was still trying to process the information her eyes were giving it.

He nodded and looked away from her. “This is what happens every new moon,” he said, softly. “I become human, worthless, weak.” He swallowed hard. “I...I understand if you can't stand the sight of me. Now you know why that demon called me filthy.”

Kagome reached out, touching a lock of hair that now matched the color of hers. When he didn't pull away, she brushed his cheek with her fingertips. The same silky warm skin came in contact with her fingers.

“You're beautiful,” she sighed.

Wide, dark eyes looked at her in surprise. “What?”

Kagome smiled at him. “Did you think I wouldn't love you anymore?” she asked, mildly surprised herself when he nodded. A soft, gentle laugh escaped her. “Inuyasha, why would you think that? Would you love me any less if, once a month, I became a fire breathing dragon?”

He eyed her for a moment. “You already do that,” he said.

Kagome glared at him mockingly. “But you love me despite that, right?” He nodded, his eyes never leaving hers as he leaned his face into her hand. “Then why would you think I would love you any less?”

“Because I'm a half-breed, a mongrel, neither fully demon nor fully human,” he said.

“You are hanyou,” she said, smiling at him. “You are demon and human. The whole of two halves.” She ran her hand down his chest, feeling the same firm muscles there. “You are Inuyasha and that is what I love. Not the demon, not the human. Just you.” She paused and then frowned at him. “I do miss the ears, however,” she said, pouting slightly.

The room went completely silent as he stared at her. She felt the laugh rumble in his chest beneath her fingertips before it rang through the air. He gathered her into his arms and held her tightly to him.

“They'll come back,” he assured her.

Kagome pulled away from him slightly, looking up at him. “How long does this last?”

“Only until sunrise.”

“'Only?' You make it sound like its worse than being tortured.”

Inuyasha looked down at her, raised a hand to touch her hair, to stroke the side of her face, mimicking the way she had touched him. “I hate being this way,” he said, finally. “I can't smell you as well, can't see you as well. Even your skin and hair feel different.” He sighed, pulling her back to him, resting his chin on the top of her head. She closed her eyes, listening to the sound of his heart. “My brother hated me the instant I was born,” he told her. “We fought for many years until...” he trailed off and she felt him shake his head. “We came to an uneasy understanding, but we do not talk about this. We do not talk about weaknesses.” He sighed again, tightened his hold on her for a brief instant before pulling away again. He looked down at her, searching her eyes for something. “Are you really okay with this?”

“Really truly,” she said. She reached up and pulled his head down to her, capturing his mouth with hers.

It was as if something inside of him loosened. He relaxed under her lips, letting her brush her tongue gently over them before opening to her. She found, in her exploration, that his fangs had disappeared to be replaced by dull canines. When she pulled away, she smiled up at him.

“I don't suppose you want to go out looking like this,” she said.

Inuyasha shook his head. “Not particularly. Is that okay?”

Kagome gave him one last hug and then reached down to take his hand. She led him to the couch and pulled him down with her. “Just as long as I'm with you, everything is perfect,” she said. She grabbed the remote and started flipping through the channels, resting her head on his shoulder. “Oh, Theater of Blood is on!”

Inuyasha groaned. “You're lucky I love you,” he said.

Kagome raised her head, smiling, and leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. “Yes, I am,” she said, before snuggling her head into his chest.

She sighed in contentment when his arms went around her, even as he protested the movie selection.

“This is terrible,” he said, resting his chin on the top of her head.

“It's a classic!”

She could practically see him rolling his eyes. “A classic piece of-”

“Shh! This is the best part!”

 

*

“Kagome, could you stay for a few more minutes?”

Kagome halted just inside the door, turning to look over her shoulder. Naraku lounged gracefully in a chair, watching her. She glanced out the door, watching the others leave, a small voice inside of her whispering to go.

“I really can't, Naraku. I'm supposed to meet someone,” she told him, adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder.

“It will only take a minute,” he said.

Chewing on her bottom lip, Kagome gave the door one last forlorn look before nodding and walking back into the room. She stopped in the center, making sure to keep enough distance between herself and the demon, and dropped her bag to the floor. She watched, warily, as he rose fluidly from his seat and started to walk toward her.

“The way I see it,” he began, and his voice was low, with a trace of something that Kagome couldn't quite identify. “You are the best here and the only one I'm willing to dance with.” He smiled down at her, raised his hands to her shoulders and turned her to face the mirror.

Slightly confused, and more than a little nervous, Kagome blinked at their reflections. Naraku stood a head and a few inches taller than her. He kept his hands on her shoulders, kept the smile on his face.

“Just imagine how stunning we would be together,” he said, his voice still soft.

“I'm not sure that I'm going to stay here,” she said. “I have an audition with my city ballet as well and I'm thinking of just staying there.”

She watched the transformation with less awe and more fear than the one she had witnessed the night before. Naraku's eyes grew hard, his normally serene, cold features twisted into an angry mask.

Kagome cried out softly when his fingers dug into her shoulders. “Naraku, you're hurting me,” she said, trying not to whimper.

His eyes narrowed and he gripped her shoulders harder. “I don't understand why you are so willing to give that filthy half-breed everything,” he hissed. He leaned down, pressing his face close to her own. “He's all over you,” he growled. “It's disgusting.”

Anger shot through the fear. “My personal life is none of your business,” she snarled.

“You are even starting to sound like him. It's a pity, really. Such a waste.”

“What do you mean?” Kagome asked, the anger starting to run out of fuel.

Naraku smiled cruelly at their reflections. “You have something I want, Kagome. Something very precious to me.”

“What are you talking about?”

He must have sensed that her confusion was real. He looked at her in surprise for an instant, and then a coldly amused smile stretched his lips.

“You don't know? Truly?” Kagome, suddenly feeling like she was in some surreal nightmare, started to wish fervently that she would wake up. Naraku's soft laugh echoed in her ear. “You have it with you always and you don't even know it. It's right here.”

As soon as his hand started to move down her body, Kagome stiffened. Her body reacted before her brain and she felt the point of her elbow connect with his ribs. It most certainly didn't hurt him, but it surprised him enough that his lungs expelled a small huff of air and the hand on her shoulder loosened. Kagome danced away from him, grabbing her duffel bag and sped toward the door.

The speed of his recovery and his movements didn't really surprise her. She had become accustomed to the way Inuyasha moved when he was exceptionally passionate about something. So, when she suddenly found the exit blocked, she skidded to a halt and blinked at him.

“I will have it, Kagome,” he said.

“I don't even know what you're talking about,” she repeated. Kagome took one slow step away from him.

He was fast, was all Kagome could think as she looked up at him towering over her. When he smiled down at her, Kagome felt her heart start to race, felt more terrified than she ever remembered. Her mouth went dry as she saw his true form for the first time. Ghostly outlines of bloodied bandages seem to cover his face, his torso, as if the faint image of a mummy had been superimposed over him.

“You,” she breathed. “I know who you are.”

Alarms rang in her head, deafening her, creating a dull roar in her ears. Fingers of dread crept over her limbs, making them useless.

The last thing she saw were two maroon eyes burning into hers from a coldly dispassionate face.

 

*

Skin broke, fine lines of red ran in lazy rivulets down pale flesh, pooled at the shoulder before spilling down, looking like exposed veins. Arms were tied viciously tight overhead, pulling at the shoulders until they burned and screamed in agony. Ankles were lashed together by an unyielding material that bit into the skin.

Damp mustiness permeated the room, as if it were far underground. The air was still and cool, and there was only the sound of a deep, hushed silence, as if the place were holding its breath, waiting with horrified anticipation.

Kagome opened her eyes to blackness, blinked, and shook her head before she realized she was blindfolded. Something had been stuffed into her mouth, preventing her from screaming, making it hard for her to swallow. She immediately panicked and started to thrash, her fear deepening when she realized her body simply swung, when the movement caused hard, sharp objects to bite into the flesh of her wrists and ankles, making more warm, sticky blood flow. She could feel it slowly dripping from her bare toes, making a soft, barely audible splashing when it hit the floor below her, could feel it re-trace dried paths on her arms. She felt cool air touch bare skin and realized she was clad only in her bra and dancer's shorts. The musty smell of the room was suddenly tinged with a metallic tang that she could taste in the back of her throat.

The air shifted, made space for something that she could feel moving toward her silently, the way a small child knows there are monsters in the dark. She gagged on a scream, trying to wake herself up from this nightmare, wanting to find herself curled in bed in the safe, strong arms of a loving hanyou.

“Welcome to the White Tower, Kagome.” The voice, sounding as though it were making plans for coffee, was familiar and repulsive all at once. “I thought, given its history, this place was appropriate.” She heard something metal scrape against stone, froze in fear and desperately tried to keep the whimper from escaping her. Tears gathered along the bottom of the blindfold, soaking into the material. “I hope you are comfortable,” he said, and she heard him, felt him, move closer to her.

She felt the cloth around her head jerk, fall away. Dim light surrounded her, hit her eyes forcefully and made her blink furiously, dislodging tears and making them trail down her cheeks.

Naraku watched her, a small, terrifying smile on his face. “I'll remove the gag too, if you promise not to scream,” he told her. He leaned forward so that she could feel breath as cold as ice brush across her face, making her tears freeze. “Not that anyone could hear you anyway,” he whispered, conspiratorially.

Eyes wide in fear, Kagome nodded, knowing that the gag wasn't necessary to keep her quite; her throat was constricted so tightly with absolute terror she could hardly breath, could feel herself choking on it. Her jaw ached when she was finally able to close her mouth and she instantly ran her tongue over dry, cracked lips, turning her head away from Naraku's burning gaze to look around.

She was suspended in the middle of a room whose walls were made of old, grimy grey stones. To her left, a small window showed her only the blackness of night, giving the illusion that they were caught in a light-less void. She could faintly make out the outline of the door behind her captor and, turning her head to the right, saw a small table with a black cloth spread on it that held a single candle whose light reflected off shiny, silver objects. Blinking to focus, Kagome realized what lay on the black material and started to thrash again, a soft whimper escaping her. Her efforts were rewarded with renewed pain shooting through her limbs and a soft, cruel chuckle from Naraku.

Her eyes truly focused on him for the first time, noticed the way black hair spilled like ink over the white fur cloak that covered him completely, that pooled on the floor around his feet. She recognized the cloak in the distant way one remembers a nightmare; not so much a thought as a feeling of unknown, unidentifiable, suffocating dread, terror, fright.

“Hopefully, I won't need to use these,” he said, running a hand lightly, almost lovingly, over the wickedly gleaming instruments. He shrugged and turned to her, smiling again. “I've never tried to extract something from one's soul. I figure mimicking my actions physically wouldn't hurt.” He smirked, came closer to her, ran a finger as cold as death along her cheek. “That's not entirely true. It will hurt, you may even die from it. Are you scared, little miko?”

Kagome jerked away from his touch. “What do you want from me?” she whispered, her voice raw and cracking.

“The same thing I wanted from Kikyo,” he told her. “The Shikon no Tama.”

Kagome stared at him, knowing suddenly how it felt to look into the face of madness. She wondered, if she were to go mad, if she would look so blankly serene. “But-” her voice broke and she swallowed and tried again. “The Shikon jewel was burned with her. I don't have it.”

“You do have it, miko. I can feel it so strongly when I am near you.” He paused and cocked his head slightly to one side. “Haven't you ever wondered, little miko, why most of your friends are demons?” When she simply stared at him, he continued. “They can feel it too,” he told her. “Perhaps they do not know what it is that draws them to you, but it is a palpable force that they cannot ignore. The jewel calls to them to protect it.”

“Protect it from what?”

Naraku's lips pulled from his teeth in a feral smile. “From me.”

He reached over his head and pulled the hood of the cloak up. His face was covered in an eerie blue baboon mask that left black voids where his eyes should have been. Terror, and a sudden recognition that was not hers, flooded through her. Hatred, so powerful it surprised her, began to pierce through the fear, slowly ripping its way through even as she felt the painful tearing of skin shoot through her side. Kagome dropped her head, instinctively searching for what caused the pain. She watched in horrid fascination as her flesh parted under the sharp object in Naraku's hand, as her blood ran out and marred the sterile looking scalpel.

“You have a high tolerance for pain, little miko,” Naraku said. Kagome heard faint surprise in his voice. “Not even a whimper.” She heard a breathy sigh. “That's too bad. I would really enjoy hearing you scream.”

Kagome watched as he carelessly threw the scalpel on the table, muttering to himself. Through the mask, she caught some of the words. They sounded vaguely like Kanji, but there was an odd inflection to them. His voice started to rise and the words started to cut through the air, as sharp as the instrument he had just used on her flesh. She closed her eyes when she saw his hand fall over a set of objects that looked like talons hinged together. She felt them dig into the flesh of her upper arms, felt fresh blood stream down to her shoulders, across her chest, down her side to mingle with the blood of the wound there before spilling down her legs.

In the sudden silence, Kagome could only hear the sound of her harsh breath, of the faint sound of metal against metal and then metal against skin. The air around her was suddenly heavy, suffocating, so that she couldn't even move enough to draw it into her lungs.

Naraku leaned toward her and whispered something she couldn't understand.

The world shattered, light so brilliant it blinded her piercing through the thin flesh of her closed eyes. Excruciating pain flared up her side, through her arms, making her hands clench convulsively, making the sharp restraints around them sink even deeper. Something inside of her twisted, grated, like the scrape of tendon being jerked the wrong way against bone. Her back arched and her throat opened as an agonized scream tore its way out.

“No!” she screamed, opening her eyes as hate that wasn't hers shot through her, clearing her vision.

The light in the room had turned a sickly green color, making her at once feel nauseous. Kagome ground her teeth together, struggling against her restraints, not caring about the amount of blood she was loosing. The gash in her side was only felt dimly. She became aware of cold fingers on the wound, feeling them prod at it, trying to insert themselves into her flesh.

She never knew what her soul felt like. As it was with all humans, it was something that was just there, something that was existential but never felt or seen.

Now, though, she could feel it. A cold hand grasped at something just above her heart, wrapping icy fingers around something that wasn't physically there. She felt a sharp jolt of pain in her side and felt a harsh snap that caused her to cry out in pain. It felt as though a piece of her flesh had been sliced off.

And the hate building within her burned until she felt it crawl out her eyes, her throat. A faint bluish-pink light began to glow above her, bathing her in its light, pushing back the vile green that contaminated the room, so bright it made her nearly blind again.

All of her other senses heightened in that same instant. The metallic, coppery tang of blood filled her nose, the smell of sweaty fear, of burning anger. A sharp, astonished gasp reached her ears with the sound of shoes scraping against stone as Naraku moved away from her. And, behind him, she heard a faint pounding coming through the thick wooden door.

Hard, uneven stone was suddenly beneath her hands and knees. Kagome looked up watching through vision flooded with purple as Naraku edge slowly backwards. Faint flecks of blood stood out in sharp contrast against the white fur of his cloak, which had been pushed over his shoulders, the hood falling away from his head. His right hand was bloodied and clenched in a tight fist. Through his fingers, rays of bluish-pink light shot out when Kagome stood and took a step toward him.

“You shall not have it!”

A voice that was at once her own and not, rang through the room. Her hand rose before her, seemingly on its own, and a part of her noticed it glowed in the same light that shone from Naraku's closed hand. Her entire form was caught in the nimbus that started to shine brighter around her raised hand.

It shot from her like an arrow, hitting Naraku squarely in the chest, causing the cloak to once again fall around him, making his hood fall forward as he doubled over in pain. His hand opened and the small ball that was the source of the light fell to the ground. Kagome heard the sound of precious glass against hard stone, heard the inaudible cracking and watched as the jewel shattered.

Rage formed itself into a violent wind, her hair sweeping around her in a raven colored cloud, when Naraku took a step forward. Another bolt of light leapt from Kagome's hand. She watched in satisfaction as the cloaked figure fell back.

And then frowned when the white fur puddled to the ground, completely empty of its occupant. She was left looking at the baboon mask that stared up at her mockingly.

Whatever had been within her, now left with the suddenness of an expelled breath. Kagome fell to her knees again, feeling the floor scrape at her skin. She felt every wound as she crawled toward the shattered jewel that had been so violently ripped from her body. The shards glowed still, fainter, though, than they had when it had been whole. She gathered them in her hand, feeling the sharp edges bite, with loving tenderness it seemed, into her palm. The small beads of blood made the shard grow slightly brighter and they started to meld back together as she watched in fascination. When it was complete, it still did not shine with its former radiance, and she turned it to find a small chunk of it still missing.

The sharp sound of splintering wood made her look up in surprise. Twin red suns burned through the darkness of the doorway, fading to molten amber even as Kagome rose painfully to her feet, took stumbling steps toward them.

She didn't know how he had found her -she didn't care. The excruciating pain in her body faded as relief flooded through her.

“Inuyasha,” she croaked, her voice nearly gone.

“Kagome, oh gods, Kagome.”

Hard, warm, safe arms went around her in a hold so fierce it made her whimper. He immediately loosened his grip, pulling slightly away from her, which made her whimper again and clutch at the front of his shirt.

“Inuyasha,” she said again, tears suddenly choking her. “Inuyasha, take me home.”