Disclaimer:
I do not own characters from Inuyasha that this fanfiction includes. However, the five original characters (OCs) -Kiyone "Ki" Musume, Ragaraja "Raj" Akuen, Kojin Okabore, and Koshi and Jikun Yowa- are my creations. I do not condone the content contained within that is disagreeable. Do not read if you cannot handle the subject matter emotionally, mentally, and physically- not that Sango had a choice. Please read Warnings (below) before reading. Translations of the Japanese names and title used are available following the story.

Warnings:
Lots of adult language and content. Rated NC-17 for violence, sick and twisted content, severe angst, rape/non-consensual sex, dark/depressing subject matter, sad/tragic circumstances, death, physical and sexual abuse, incest, torture of body, mind, and soul, as well as het and yuri/femslash pairings. You have been warned.

Pairings:
Ragaraja Akuen(OC) x Sango Garasu. Kohaku Garasu x Kiyone Musume(OC). Many others/various. (See Warnings.)

Notes:
Read after the story.

*

Dedicated to "H.G."

- Because someone has to live.

*

Inspired by a true story.

*

Ake Garasue: Satsu

- previously titled "Shades of Red"

Written by Duo no Tsuin

*

Just a little farther . . .

Snow crunched beneath her ice cold feet.

In the distance, she saw a glimmer- light.

Almost . . .

Stumbling up the steps and falling into the mass of the solid oak door, she reached a shaking hand to press the lighted doorbell button. Beneath her, her legs buckled and she slid down the door's length to lay on the "Welcome" mat beneath her.

"Who the Hell is out- oh my god! Koshi! Koshi, get out here!"

Shaking, the couple opened the door that was streaked with a dark substance. On their doormat that read "We---me," due to a growing dark puddle, was a naked young woman- her only clothing was a tied white cloth, dotted with maroon in what at first seemed to be tiedyed manner, crumpled loosely around her neck. Dark trails of that supposed "dye" shade lined her bare back- mixing with locks of her brown hair and turning them almost black. Behind her, more dark puddles in the shape of footprints could be seen leading up the stairs from the snow.

Blood.

"Is she . . . " The woman trailed off.

The man identified as Koshi sank to his good knee and grasped a pale wrist.

"Does she have a pulse?"

No movement. "She's so cold-"

"H-hel . . . "

The couple jumped at the muffled sound.

"Help . . . me . . . "

"She's alive! Bring her in!"

The husband nodded, but as he grabbed her arms, the wet skin slipped out of his now drenched hands. "Th-there's so much blood. How can she . . . "

"Call 9-1-1, Koshi!"

The man stumbled back inside to the phone. Stained hands shaking, he dialed.

"9-1-1, what is your emergency?"

The older man stumbled over the words to the operator as his wife left to get blankets. "A-a girl just wandered up to our house. She has no clothes and she's bleeding- badly. There's snow outside-"

"What is the address there?"

He gave the address and their names, "Koshi and Jikun Yowa," as the wife returned and placed the blankets around the body. Quickly, their patterns were mulled by darker blemishes.

"We've wrapped her in blankets; her skin looks blue. Please, is there anything else we can do for her? Should I move her? She's lost a lot of blood- but she's conscious, I swear-"

"Sir, it's alright. Stay calm. I'll tell you what to do . . . "

"What did they say, Koshi?"

"They're telling me now."

The stoic voice of the woman on the phone added, "But most importantly, you must not let her sleep, do you understand? She may want to, but she can't. If she does, then she may die."

"Phone . . . " The girl reached a bloody hand out for the phone. Somehow, she had dragged herself off the cement porch and into the foyer of the house. The man's wife went to her side and helped her inside as gently as she could.

"Sh-she wants to talk to you." He handed over the phone, attempted to lift her into his arms- his back protesting at the act- and was told to let her be. He did as the girl asked and left to get more towels as his wife closed the door.

"My name is Sango Garasu," the girl began. "I was visiting my boyfriend Ragaraja Akuen at his house that he rented along with Kojin Okabore and my younger brother Kohaku Iro Garasu. The address is . . . "

"That's miles away, Koshi," the woman whispered to her husband as the girl related the address to the operator. "H-how could she?"

"It's alright, Jikun," he said as he laid a reassuring hand on his wife's shoulder. "Let her speak- while she can."

"Before I die or lose consciousness, I want to tell you that I've been raped, shot in the back of the head, and I've lost a lot of blood . . . so I might not have long to tell you-"

An audible gasp could be heard on either end of the line.

Showing her true nature for the first time, "Go ahead, Miss," the operator consoled.

The girl summons more mysterious strength to tell her story- knowing it would all be recorded.

"We were all together, Kojin, Kohaku, his girlfriend Kiyone Musume, Raj, and I in that house. We don't even know how it began, really. One minute we were watching tv on the couch and these two guys- they looked like brothers- burst into the room waving their guns and threatening our lives if we didn't do what they said."

Sounded common enough.

"They directed us to a bedroom. Once inside, they told us to take off our clothes. We complied. What else could we have done. But then they told the guys to get into the closet. We tried to follow, but they grabbed us from behind and wouldn't let us.

"The guys wanted to rush the intruders. I could tell it from the certainty in their eyes; three against two seemed like great odds to all of us at the time. But we forgot the other two factors that weighed the odds against us."

The guns.

"They each held a gun to our heads and told the guys to do what they said or they'd kill us. I screamed out, 'Don't worry about me, just get out of here!'

"The one holding the gun to Ki forcibly turned her head and looked her in the eye. 'Honestly, do you want to die?' Ki just shook her head mutely. He pushed the gun harshly against her head and looked at me. 'Do you want her to die?'

"What choice did I have, I shook my head.

"'Good, now since no one wants to die, just do what we say and we'll leave.'

"'Promise?' Kiyone asked.

"They flashed two of the most blood curdling grins I have ever seen. Such menace. 'Promise.' If only we had known what was to come. Maybe then we would have chosen death from a firearm.

"'A-alright, then,' she whispered. 'Don't worry, Haku,' she said to my brother. She was strong. So much stronger than I had ever hoped to be.

"The others dragged little Kohaku into room telling him to be strong. And as the door was closed behind them, I knew that we, the girls who wanted to be strong, had sealed our fate. All they could do was listen from inside.

"And then . . . then they-" She swallowed her gasp. "Ki. I'm so sorry for they made me do to you . . . "

It had become anything but common.

"And then they . . . " The operator probed.

"Yes," the word came out without a breath behind it. It was just too hard to say to three strangers and a recorder. But I have to . . . "They made . . . us do things. First to each other as they looked on and then to . . . them. Kiyone, God, Kiyone. She was a virgin. She and my brother never had a chance . . . they were only going out for a month. 'I'm sorry,' I kept saying to her . . . as if it were my fault. 'I'm sorry it's me.' They just laughed as I . . . how could I do that to her?" The tears were streaming down her face now. She could hardly breathe.

"Miss, please, it's alright. She wouldn't blame you. It wasn't you who did it to her."

Sango sobbed and her voice shook as she continued. "But I did . . . I did it. And then they went after her. God, the poor girl! She was crying out in pain! I just wanted them to leave her alone and take me instead of her!"

"Miss, you have to slow down. The paramedics will be there soon, but you musn't get too excited!"

Her stomach cringed at the word. But, somehow, she forced herself to breathe. "They fed on my pleading; it only made them torture her more. They stopped suddenly and went to the closet. They pulled Kojin out and closed the door behind him. His eyes, my dear friend, he just looked at me with his eyes clouded over. His eyes that once held such brightness when I was around." I never noticed it before. Could he have . . . no. I can't think of it. You only wanted me to give you a chance . . . and I never saw you that way. God, I'm sorry. "They had plans for him. They threw him on top of Kiyone. The poor girl . . . I could do nothing but watch. They held me back and forced my eyes open. I saw it all. Kojin didn't want to. No, it was then that his eyes clouded over.

"When I thought it was all over, they went to the closet, grabbed Kohaku, closed the door, and pushed him on top of me. 'Do her,' they said. God, the confusion, fear, and sadness on his face! My brother, my little baby brother! His eyes cried out to me . . . but what could I do? It was either . . . that or death. I nodded mutely as they continued to threaten us. I could never blame him; I never will.

"He kept his eyes closed the whole time as they gave him directions. 'Harder . . . faster. Fuck her like you want her!'"

When the voice on the other end stopped suddenly, the operator spoke up once again. "Miss? Miss? Hang in there!"

"I'm still here," she whispered. Although I wish I wasn't. "He was just as pure as Kiyone. Was . . . I think his soul died then. His soul died under the weight of the sins and perversities he committed. He wouldn't even look at me. He just . . . couldn't. I don't blame him. If I could have just dropped dead then, I would have.

"Next to me, Kiyone cried out. Kohaku looked up then as one of them continued to violate her in her grief- she had cried the whole time. He tried to go to her, but the other held him back. 'Watch as I cum inside of her. Watch your slut girlfriend give to me what she would never give to you!' He fought back and stretched out his hand to hers. In that chaos, their hands met for a second. Their eyes shone brightly in that darkness. They really did love each other! It was beautiful . . . only to have my brother's hand crushed by the foot of one of them. A crunch resounded in that room.

"It just got worse. Last, they freed my boyfriend, Raj. He looked at me with a blank stare. He knew. How could he not from the sounds? From the anguish that must have been in my eyes?" I'm sorry, Raj . . . I wish you hadn't been there. That none of us were . . . "'And now, for the encore,' one of them said.

"Raj and Kohaku were made to ly on top of us. Our loves. They gathered us into such warm embraces . . . as if we had just woken up from a bad dream. Of course, it was ruined as they spoke. 'Show them that you love them.'

"And under the scrutiny of them, we were made to feel like less than used up trash for a moment. But, in the end, a moment is just that . . . momentary.

"'Make them cum. Touch them,' again, they were told what to do to us. I remember closing my eyes and thinking it were another time that we had shared. Our first time, our prom night, our one-year anniversary . . . I could feel my body crying out to Raj's. God, I was close. I was so close . . .

"And then, he was forcibly pulled out of me. I wanted to open my eyes, but my world collapsed as another pushed into me roughly. I knew it wasn't Raj immediately. I just wanted to cry . . .

"Kiyone did. She cried out in pain as the same atrocity was visited upon her. But she wasn't the only one. I think we all did then."

The couple around Sango closed their eyes and made hushed prayers to a god foreign to her now.

There is no "God," she thought. How could there be? If he does . . . then he's a fucking sick bastard too because he created . . . them. The tearflow continued down her body. It cooled the pain she felt. She wished she could stop there, but she was alone. Only she was left. And it was she that had to tell the tale.

"After they were done, they blindfolded us, tied our hands and feet together, and loaded us into the back of my friend's 2002 silver Dodge Ram truck . . . registered to Kojin Okabore. I think the other one took my car. A dark blue Honda Civic year 2001, the passenger side front fender has a large dent from a parking lot collision, with this license plate number . . . "

The operator typed as the girl talked, attempting to assure her as well as herself, "I'll alert local law enforcement to watch for both vehicles."

"We drove for . . . I don't know. Could have been an hour, but it seemed like forever. And then they pulled off the main road onto a dirt road- drove for what could have been a half an hour. I guess after that they drove into a field because the bumps got even worse.

"They stopped, opened the tailgate, and one climbed up. He threw us out, and they lined us up on our knees in the snow. It was cold, so cold. Kiyone was crying- I was crying . . . the guys were too. Then in the dark I heard the deafening click of a gun hammer being pulled back.

"'Wait, they need to watch.' They pulled our blindfolds down around our necks but left Kiyone's in place. 'Beg for the life of your little bitch,' one said. We cried out for him to leave her alone- just leave us there; we wouldn't call the police if they just left us. And then he-" She choked on the words.

"And then he pulled the trigger. She's dead- dead. The bastard blew her brains out. We all cried out and the other told us to shut-up. But there would be no difference. Either way, we were dead. And then he moved to her boyfriend, my brother Kohaku. He was crying. They pulled the trigger again and Kohaku fell ontop of her- even in death, he still loved her." A love that I myself helped sully . . . Kohaku, please, I hope you can forgive me . . .

"Kojin was next. His eyes were glazed over. Once so cheerful, they were blackened by his actions. I couldn't blame him. I never would. After the shot, his lifeless body fell forward into the snow. There were two of us left.

"They hesitated. 'Now . . . which one deserves to watch?' One grabbed my mussed hair roughly and pointed a gun to my temple.

"'Please . . . don't . . . ' Raj pleaded.

"'How much does the little bitch mean to you, boy? Is she worth it to you now . . . now that she's just another whore?'

"'Speak for yourself, she might just be tight enough for me again,' the one behind me said." Again? It was him. The that stopped Raj and- yes, it had to be . . .

"'Don't listen to them, Raj," I spoke out, "They're just trying to torture us some more-' Everything nearly went dark then. I think I was hit in the head with the gun.

"Poor Raj didn't know when to quit. 'Don't you touch her, you monsters!!'

"'Again? Maybe we should take a souvenir . . . how would you like to go with us?' He asked me.

"'Never,' I spat. 'I would rather die a thousand deaths than be touched by either one of you again.'

"'That may be arranged.' And then they pulled a trigger. I was sure I was dead . . . but he- Raj, he fell forward like slow motion, and mouthed something to me. I think it was-'" She sniffed the silent tears that were running down her face anew to mix with the blood.

"He said, 'I love you,' and then he landed on his cheek- his blue eyes that once sparkled staring up at me- dead. They killed him, those bastards . . . "

"And then, what happened?" The quiet female on the line said, encouraging her to continue.

"The one with the gun on me . . . he- I cried . . . and he used his gunbarrel to move some hair away from his face. It was cold . . . so cold.

"And then he whispered something in my ear. 'I will treasure the expressions of your face and body with me eternally.' He nuzzled my neck and bit down- could have drawn blood for all I know. I could feel the life draining out of me . . . Then he said, 'Will my face, contorted in passion as I drove into you from above, be the last image you see in your beautiful eyes as you die?'

"'Never.'

"'Bitch.'"

Bang!

"And then that was it, I thought my life was over. I heard an explosion, my ears were ringing, I fell forward onto that snow- the same cold snow now stained with my blood . . . and the blood of those I loved."

Somewhere behind her, Jikun was crying and moved to hold the girl- silently wishing she could just wipe away the girl's pain with an embrace. But Sango cringed away and shook her head, despite the pain.

The operator prayed the poor weather conditions didn't delay the EMS any longer. "Did they know you were dead?"

"I guess they just thought I was."

"And then what?"

"'Come on,' one of them said. 'Let's go back to their place and make this look good.' I heard the driver of the silver truck grind the shifter into second as he took drove off, the glare of the headlights dimming. In the distance, I saw the streams of red and white light moving . . .

"In the dark, I saw nothing but the black of night . . . I thought that was it. I was dead. But somewhere an owl hooted and I knew- God, I knew- I knew that by some curse of fate, I was alive. Pushing with all my might, I used my shoulder to push off the ground. I was no ghost. My body was alive- barely.

"My friends, God, my friends . . . they're all dead! I tried to move them, but they're dead! They're dead!" The blood loss was finally catching up with her. Her words were becoming more fervent and her throat even more raw.

The end was close.

She had to hurry. "How did you get to where you are now?"

"I was in a field, somewhere. It was cold, God, so cold . . . but I kept walking and walking. I just walked through the snow- I don't know for how long- until I saw a light. Someone was home, thank God, someone was home. Thank you God, thank you . . . thanks for leaving a light on."

The receiver dropped to the hardwood floor- echoing in the silence.

The darkness.

*

Screaming pierced the night air as a figure threw the covers back and shrunk against the headboard- wishing to meld with its solidity and just disappear.

Frantically, her wide eyes searched the dark room for faces that personified evil.

And terror.

It was a dream.

She was alone in the dark. Always, alone.

He was not there at her side to laugh at her lightly, take her into his arms, and kiss away her fear. He would never be there again. In this life . . . this room, she was alone.

Raj . . .

She shook her aching head that clouded her thoughts. If only it had been a dream. Just a nightmare to wake from and return to her once simple and happy life.

But it wasn't. She would never wake again.

Blindly, her hand went to the back of her head.

As sweat soaked skin touched plastic, a minuscule sigh escaped her.

It was still there. The object that they- the police and detectives she had spoke to since then- believed saved her life.

Well, its brother and match- the one she had not worn that fateful night. Both a gift from her brother.

Never had she thought that one simple amber hairclip could do so much for its wearer. Now, she saw it as a talisman- a protector.

"This probably saved her life," she remembered someone saying while she was still in the hospital. " . . . diverted the bullet . . ." So many memories came in flashes like that one. Pieces of what used to be a life. A great deal of which she could hardly remember.

If only the truth of that night were as elusive.

But it was there, solid as the wood behind. It was always there with her. It never let her be. Kohaku . . . I thank you. Thank you for protecting me that night . . .

Since then, she had sought out the rest of the clips and bought every one. Same brand. Same color. Same meaning. When back "home" she would undo the twist-tie, free it from its packaging, and place it somewhere in her new home. In the pale night light, she could see their amber hues shining from her dresser, bedside table, vanity which held no mirror, and even the four she had clipped onto four black scrunchies- each now looped around her bedposts.

But the one, the second of the original pair, was always with her. Binding her long brown locks from view and to hide the physical reminder of her life. An entry point, now a scar, that should have ended it.

The other clip lay in some far away room in plastic- its memory preserved and still coated in her dried blood- marked with a number.

Her life was reduced to a number.

Five survived by one.

Her chest suddenly heaved and sweat dripped into her eyes, clouding her vision. The salt stung them and instead of crying out . . . she cried. The girl pulled her knees to her torso and hung her head- silently praying that the memories would disappear like the tears. But they never had.

They never would.

The tears fell onto her pale knees and ran down her thinning legs to stain her sheets with the horrible visions that would not let her rest peacefully. The form shook and shivered in the heat of the night.

A frail voice whispered to the darkness, "Please . . . please, God . . . just make them go away. Take their eyes from my mind and their words from my soul. But always, guard my dear ones' souls in Heaven. Keep the monsters and lock them away with the memories and words in a dark pit of Hell. I pray you . . . let them pay." And so, the words continued into the night- words more like a spell, a chant, than a prayer. "Please . . . "

***

The End

?

***

Like I said before, though based on a true story this fanfiction is fictitious. I do not condone the actions of the "villains" in anyway.

And if you're wondering why they never have a face/description, then I can't say yet. I leave that for the continuation of the Mixing Reality and Fiction/World Gone Mad saga that I have been toying with. All I said is that they are brothers. Yes, there is a point to my madness. As always, you may leave a review where this story is archived or send me an email (duo_no_tsuin@yahoo.com) with any questions, comments, concerns, or thoughts that you may have on this story.

Glossary:

As a tribute to Rumiko Takahashi- the creator of Inuyasha- all names of the main characters involved have meanings. My translations of the full names are literal, intentional, and possibly incorrect since I am not a Japanese linguist. Following is a list of terms that influenced the name choice. Based on these, you may also understand the title choice for this story. *shrugs* Read into it what you will. (If at all.)

Names and Meanings as I Intended: (in english order)=

Sango "S.G." Garasu = coral glass
Kohaku Iro Garasu = amber colored glass pattern
Kiyone "Ki" Musume = virgin; innocent young woman
Ragaraja "Raj" Akuen = unfortunate love deity (odd choice, I know, but fitting)
Kojin Okabore = the deceased old friend w/ unrequited love (for Sango; pretty literal)
Koshi Yowa = withering bad back at midnight
Jikun Yowa = kind/motherly counsel in the dead of night
Sango Gara Burroku = coral glass block design/pattern
(Post tragedy, "Sango Garasu" changes name to "Sango Gara Burokku.")

Individual Words:

Sango = coral
Kohaku = amber
kohakuiro = amber (color)
irogara = colored pattern
gara = pattern; designgarasu = glass; pane
garasuburokku = glass block
kimusume = virgin; innocent young woman
aizenmyouou = Ragaraja; Buddhist deity of love
("Raj" seemed like a cuter nickname than "Aize." *blinks* Now that we've found Ozzy, where's Sharon?)
akuen = evil destiny or connection; unfortunate love
kojin = the deceased; old friend
okabore = unrequited love; secret affections
koshiyowa = bad back, spineless person
koshi = ancient history; used paper/paper for recycling; ancient poems; old small shrine; historic ruins; withering/dying
yowa = midnight; dead of night
jikun = kind counsel; mother's advice

The Title:

Ake Garasue: Satsu = red/bloody stained/painted glass: split/murder

ake = (1) scarlet; red (2) bloody
garasue = picture painted on glass; stained glass
satsu = kill; murder; butcher; slice off; split; diminish; reduce; spoil