InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Dante's Prayer ❯ Chapter 3 ( Chapter 3 )

Over the eastern horizon the sky was just beginning to lighten to the dark gray blue of approaching sunrise. It would be a few hours yet, he had watched too many sunrises during the new moon to not know. Only this time he his vigil of the night was for a far different reason.

Around a small fire his friends lay wounded, their faces lit by the fire's glow. Kagome, still wrapped in his haori, seemed trapped in semi-unconsciousness. She slept, but it was not deep and her restless movements were unsettling.

Shippou lay next to her, sleeping thankfully. The kitsune had woken when he had gently picked him up to move him to where Sango and Miroku were. Green eyes muddled with pain and confusion managed to focus on him in the weak fire light. "Inuyasha?" he had said uncertainly, his voice weak and small.

"Shh, runt." He had answered softly. "Everything will be alright. Sango and Miroku are right here, and I'm going to go get Kirara and Kagome." The kit had closed his eyes then, relief evident in them.

Kirara had been next, he was resting soundly now too. The ni te-ru hi youkai neko had already begun to heal his injuries, though he had protested loudly at him until he had placed him next to his mistress's side. Somehow he had managed to maneuver himself under Sango's arm, his head resting against her hand.

Sango was in the worst condition by far; her body had sunk itself into a deep unconsciousness trying to combat her injuries. On several occasions he had believed that she had passed onto the next life, her breathing so irregular and shallow. Undoubtedly, it was Miroku's nigan and ofuda that kept her alive even now.

The houshi was still awake, though lost in nigan and meditation. He could just barely make out whispered words of nigan and promises to Buddha, should Sango live. Checking the bandage that he had bound Miroku's shoulder wound with he noted that it would have to be changed soon.

Rolling onto his feet he rummaged through Kagome's bag looking for more bandages. By some undeserved kindness from the gods he had stumbled upon her bag while he had been searching for fire wood. Grasping a bundle of cloth he pulled it out hoping that it would be what he sought. The material turned out to be a spare kimono that Kagome carried with her, looking over at her for a moment he made a decision.

Gathering what first aid supplies he could find and the kimono he knelt next to her sleeping frame. A harsh "Inuyasha!" stilled his hand. Turning, his eyes meet Miroku's. "If I don't tend to her wounds now, she won't let me near her when she wakes. You didn't see her earlier; she was terrified of me. Even in this form." He said dejectedly. "Besides I can not leave her unclothed, she will wake more comfortable with this on than her ruined uniform."

Miroku finally nodded after a tense moment, casting his eyes back down to the still body next to him. Returning his attention to the sleeping miko he watched her intently. At the moment she seemed to be resting more deeply than she had been, hopefully free of her terrors for the time being.

Wetting a scrap of cloth he began the tedious job of tending her wounds. The claw marks on her check had finally stopped bleeding, though they still wept healing fluid. Careful to keep his touch light so as to not wake her, he cleansed her face of dried tears, blood, and dirt.

Smearing the healing ointment that she used on them when they were injured, he sealed the wounds from infection. Fumbling with one of her modern bandages he managed to peel the backing from the large band-aid, the gummy substance on the back sticking to his fingers.

`That should keep it clean.' he thought silently, `Hopefully there won't be a scar; the last thing you need is for there to be something there to remind you everyday of what I did to you.' In an afterthought he gently applied more of the ointment to her lips, noting the nip marks he had given her there.

Slowly, he pulled down the haori that covered her up to her chin, seeking the bite mark he had seen earlier. The livid color of the bruise and subsequent bite wound stood out starkly from the normally pale porcelain colored skin. In the fire light her skin resembled a colleague of yellows, blues, purples, and greens as bruises began to appear in more clarity.

Cleaning the bite as he had her check he covered it with another bandage, effectively hiding his transgression from the world and himself. `It is not as if I need to see it to remember it.' He chided himself, `I've already imprinted them all in my mind.'

Stealing his composure for what he must do next he lifted the haori from her completely. The pathway of bruises and scratches continued to her waist, rivulets of dried blood coursing downward. Her modesty was only covered by the remains of her blouse and bra; scarlet colored stains told him where he had hurt her.

Eyeing her, searching for any signs of her waking he gently peeled back the material. `Kami, what did I do to you?' was the only thought that ran through his mind. Five puncture wounds marred the curve of her breast, each leading into the near perfect contusion of his fingers. The finger marks bleed into a palm shaped bruise, evidence of the rough encounter.

The worst part however did not lie with the bruise, but inside it. Deep gouges ran through what should have been the dusky rose of her areola. These would undoable leave scars, no matter what he did now to prevent them. `The only way to have prevented this was for me to stay away from her in the first place.' He berated himself, bowing his head in shame.

Gathering his courage he began the task before him. Sometime later he was finished left only with a pile of bloody rags and her bandaged breast. Covering her again with his haori he inspected her other scrapes and bruises, cleaning and medicating as he went.

Every abrasion and contusion he burned into his memory, his guilt and remorse growing as he continued. The whips of shame tore at his soul, `You deserve it.' He reminded himself as he carefully removed Kagome's ruined uniform and dressed her in the kimono.

`If they never forgive me for what I've done, I will gladly accept their scorn.' Running his fingers through her raven tresses he worked out the worst of the knots in her hair. Gentle fingers extracted the bits of twigs and leaves that had tangled there too.

A murmur arose from her, her face contorting in a grimace. Reaching to comfort her, he pulled back sharply as if burned by fire. `Don't touch her!' he reproached himself. `How could you give her comfort? You were the one who did this to her!'

`I'll be lucky if she even lets me near her in the morning once my hanyou form has returned. Kami, she terrified of me as it is. She could hardly look at me like this earlier.' Glaring angrily at the fading darkness on the horizon, he noted that he had another hour or two before day break. Collecting the refuse around him, he stood and made his way into the remaining darkness.

Once he was sure he was far enough from the small camp, he dug a small pit using a heavy branch. Dumping the soiled rags in it he covered them with dirt and rocks. "No use in attracting more youkai to the area with the scent of human blood." He muttered to himself.

Carefully he picked his way through the trees and their jumble of root wads, the dim glow of their fire as his guide. Scanning the area in front of him for hazards he noticed a tiny patch of white to his left. As he came closer to the object he realized that it was one of Kagome's arrows.

The shaft was broken, but the arrowhead still pulsed slightly with remnants of her miko powers. Taking it in hand he ran a finger along the fletching thoughtfully, `At least the arrow head can be reused.'

Breaking the tree line he took a silent inventory of the camp site; everything was as he left it. The others lay silent, with the only noise coming from the crackling of the fire occasionally and Miroku's nigan for Sango. The houshi seemed to be oblivious to his injuries and his body's need for rest, his only thoughts seemingly on keeping the young woman alive.

They had tended the taijiya's wounds the best they could, but the flush of fever tinted her cheeks. `Shittma!' he cursed silently; infection had already begun to set in. Crouching beside Miroku he offered his own prayer to the gods that humans worshiped. The rasping of the heavy material that made up the monk's osode caught his attention.

Weary, pained eyes gazed at him. A grimace of pain creased the brow of the houshi as he shifted his in juried shoulder. "How is she?" Miroku asked as he checked the bandages that covered Sango's stomach.

"Sleeping still; her injuries will heal in time. Though she'll be sore for awhile yet." He answered softly handing the houshi a cup of water. He drank it carefully, mindful of his shoulder this time. Unconsciously the fingers of his free hand sought Sango's pulse point on her throat.

"Sango…" Inuyasha began. "I believe she is in what Lady Kagome would call a co-ma." He nodded, remembering her speaking the word when they had stopped in a village and one of the peasant women had begged Kagome to heal her sick child.

"Most of the bleeding has stopped, except for the deepest ones here on her stomach." Miroku continued, waving his hand over a section of her belly. "She has a fever…"

The houshi bowed his head in acknowledgement. "The wounds are infected; whether from the soil or from your claws…" he began, but stopped. Swallowing the lump that had suddenly appeared in his throat, Inuyasha looked away. "I know, Miroku." He stated simply.

"I did this to all of you and I'll spend the rest of my days trying to make amends for what I've done." He said, stabbing at the ground with Kagome's arrow.

"Inuyasha, what happened was an accident. Forgiveness will come in time."

"Feh, did I say anything about forgiveness? No, I didn't. Forgiveness is too good for someone like me." He growled back, his hanyou tendencies arising as the dawn crept closer.

Calming himself he managed to bring himself to ask the question that had plagued him since the realization of what he had done had hit him. "Miroku."

"Yes, Inuyasha?"

"How am I going to care for everyone after the sun rises? Kagome won't let me near her. Sango most likely won't either whenever she wakes. The runt will deal with it, but he won't like it…It would almost be easier to stay human for a few days." He finished quietly talking mostly to himself.

"Inuyasha." He looked up at the monk. "Go get the Shikon shards from Kagome."

"Why?" he questioned, giving the young man next to him a questioning glance.

"Just get them, please. The sun will rise soon." Not understanding what the houshi was up to he did as he was told. Retreating to Kagome's side again, he fumbled briefly with the knot of the string that held the small glass vial around her neck.

Walking back the sound of the shards `clinking' against one another and the glass unnerved him as he began to wonder what Miroku was up too. Kneeling next to the houshi he offered the vial to him; which he subsequently refused with a shake of his head.

The rustling of paper against paper drew his attention to Miroku's hand where he held two inactivated ofuda. "What are you up to houshi?" he asked carefully. "You said you wished to remain human for a few days. I believe there maybe a way to achieve the end to your means."

"How are we going to do that Miroku?" Inuyasha questioned warily. "By using the Shikon shards, I should be able to increase the binding strength of these ofudas. The strengthened ofudas should seal your youkai for as long as we need you to remain human." He answered tiredly, fingering the edge of the rice paper.

"It won't be permanent?" Inuyasha queried after a tense moment. "No, you should return to your hanyou appearance and strength once the shards and ofuda are removed." Miroku offered and then fell silent leaving the human hanyou to his thoughts.

`It's the only way to help the others.' He argued mentally, `Once the others are better the shards will be come out…it's the only way.'

"What do I need to do?" he choked out. "You need to insert the shards into your body, over your heart should be sufficient." The young man answered.

"How many…?" Inuyasha began, his gaze falling on the shards in the vial. "Two. One for each ofuda should be more than affective." Miroku said simply, as he struggled to rise from his seated position. Inuyasha grasped him under the elbow of his good arm and helped the houshi up.

"We must hurry, the sun is fast approaching. We'll do the binding on the other side of the fire, away from the others." Miroku gestured with his shakujou, the metal bands `clanging' softly against one another. Inuyasha nodded, taking Kagome's arrow with him. `I can use this to insert the shards.' He thought absently, the miko power infused in the metal flickering in what seemed to be agreement.

Together the young men knelt on their knees, facing one another silently. Inuyasha shed his yukata, the cream colored material glowed faintly in the fire light. Miroku bent his head, eyes drifting closed as he began to pray to the gods. The ofudas he held began to move slightly as his power began to activate them.

Turning his attention back to his own responsibilities, Inuyasha gripped the arrow shaft between his hands and snapped the wooden shaft closer to the head. Grasping the cool metal in his fingers he placed the sharpened tip against his chest. Tightening his fingers he took a slow, steadying breath as he dug the arrow head into his skin.

Gritting his teeth, he berated himself to keep quiet as nerve endings flared and protested at the intrusion. Pulling down he lengthened the cut, gasping as the edge of the head caught against the bone of his breast plate. A now shaking hand fished out a shard, fumbling as the adrenalin in his system made him clumsy, he turned the shard in his fingers.

Pushing the end of the shards into the cut he forced the piece of the Shikon no Tama under his skin. The surge of power through his body left him reeling. The hibernating youkai raged awake at the power. Gulping greedily at the air, he tried to steady his racing heart.

Unconsciously, he grasped the hilt of Tetsusaiga in his hand calming himself momentarily. Glancing at the sky, he took in the glowing colors of the sunrise as his fear and uncertainty returned and grew deep in his gut. Taking up the arrow head again he prepared himself for the second cut.

Repeating the process as he had before, he let his gaze drift over his friends as they lay motionless around him. He inserted the second shard without hesitation, separating layers of skin and muscle in one fluid motion.

The surge of power was doubled as the shard's power combined with its partner; his head drooping as he fought to gain control. Silently he watched as his blood ran in rivulets down his chest and stomach. The feeling of almost relief in his system surprised him, but he shook it off as the pain slowly began to return.

`Crimson tears for my sins.' He thought idly as he ran blood stained fingers over the swell of the shards under his skin. The sight of his own blood spilled by his own hand unnerved and fascinated him at the same time. Miroku's voice broke through from far away, "Inuyasha."

Startled he looked up at the houshi, who held the ignited ofuda in his hand. "Are you ready Inuyasha? We don't have much time…" Closing his eyes momentarily he nodded, taking Tetsusaiga in his hand. Clasping his hand tightly around the worn pommel he readying himself in case the binding failed and he became hanyou, or even worse full youkai when the sun crested the horizon.

The first rays of light were beginning to appear where the edge of the Earth meets the planes of the sky as Miroku slapped the ofudas against his chest. "It doesn't hurt…' Inuyasha gratefully thought only to realize belatedly that the worst was yet to come. As the sun continued to rise it began to feel as if he was being torn apart from the insides out.

The shout of pain and fear that left him was unlike any he had ever heard. He was vaguely aware of Miroku shouting at him, as the ofudas gained strength from the shards, and his hanyou and youkai powers fought for dominance. All inside his still human body.

Feeling as if his soul, mind, heart and body were being ripped to shreds he tried frantically to gain control of himself. Any semblance of control he possessed was lost when the sun hit him fully, and his back arching backwards and his head snapping back as the pain and power over took him.

The only thing he knew for certain as he fell backwards towards the ground and a never ending guttural scream left him was that he was human. Wakahiru-Me had crossed the sky and he remained human. A broken thought of, 'it worked,' teased at the edge of consciousness as he sank into the welcoming arms of oblivion...

Taijiya ~ exterminator

Osode ~ long sleeved kimono that Miroku wears

Shakujou ~ staff that Miroku carries with him

Wakahiru-Me ~ Japanese goddess of Dawn