InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Darkness ❯ Chapter Three ( Chapter 3 )

AN: So, this idea sprung after reading The Black Jewels Trilogy for the eighth time. It's not a direct rip off, just loosely based on the Anne Bishop series. I like to think I changed it enough to make it interesting, and I hope that you all enjoy it. Arigatou gozaimasu

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DARKNESS
By: DemonSaya

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Chapter 3
A Spell at Meadowbrook

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Onigumo watched the coach arrive and watched the woman exit, followed by a young lady in pink with black ringlets held up by pink ribbons. She could be no more than twelve, young of face and fresh of body. He ran eyes eyes over her slender figure, a slight smirk on his face. She'd been there off and on since she was five years old. No one touched her for some reason which he didn't understand.

She was a lovely young thing.

Perhaps it was because her mother was in a power position in the community, but Kagome Higurashi was a fresh young flower, right for the plucking.

The girl lifted those stormy eyes and he paled slightly, any trace of libido he'd had gone instantly. Ah, this was why she was never touched. He always remembered when he saw those eyes. A child's face, but those eyes held a consciousness that was far too knowing and seeing for someone who was only twelve.

Definitely a creepy kid.

She was one of their children who was not at Meadowbrook for anything but actual medical attention. The girl was sick in the head. She really frightened most of the staff.

The other girls who lived their, however seemed to find peace in her presence.

Onigumo watched the doctor lead Kagome away and her mother stepped forward to speak to him. She didn't say goodbye to her daughter. She never said goodbye. “Ahh, Mrs. Higurashi...”

“I hate just dumping her here. She's been telling those stories again...” She made a vague gesture. “I really don't know what to do about her. I love her, but she's...difficult.”

“From what I understand, most girls her age are.” He said in a good natured manner. “Don't worry, we'll take good care of your little Kagome.”

She nodded politely. “Very good, Onigumo. I must go. I have business that needs my attention.” She turned with a swirl of navy taffeta and headed back to the waiting coach.

Onigumo watched her go. Yes, he knew well enough what stories the woman spoke of. It was part of the reason the girls were so comforted by the presence of Kagome Higurashi. She never told her stories to the psychologists, but he'd see her surrounded by the girls who were at Meadowbrook and she'd be talking to them quietly, in a soothing voice that was almost motherly. To the girls that had been abused, she would stroke their hair and whisper things in their ears.

That girl had a soothing touch, a way with other people that seemed to calm anyone. Except adults. Most adults were terrified of her, wouldn't go anywhere near her. He walked back into the hospital and headed towards the room that he'd just left.

The man who stood there was standing panting over the dead bodies of two peasant girls. They were half naked and had been beaten to death. Onigumo looked on with pleasant interest. “You didn't enjoy them?” He asked, arching an eyebrow and leaning against the door.

The man turned towards him. “The bitch hit me.” He snarled.

“Very well. I'll call the cook in. Excuse me.” Then, he went to go find the person who would help in disposing of the bodies.

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Inuyasha sat back in the chair, staring out the window while Yura recovered. The bitch. Every one of them had raped him mentally and emotionally until he felt as though he had nothing clean left to offer. He felt cold deep down. He dare not break the witch on the bed as long as he wore the ring. Doing so resulted in pain that he didn't care to think about. The ring that presently the bitch on the bed controlled.

“I must say...you are the wisest investment I've ever made...” Yura smiled seductively. When the demon who sat across the room didn't even look at her, she felt irritation surge through her.

“Would you indeed?” He asked coldly.

She sat, looking at him. “Don't you need some relief of your own?”

He scoffed. “Don't be ridiculous.” He stood, tying his robe closed. His only consolation in all these years being used as a whore was that they couldn't use him for sex. He could make them feel like they were having sex without touching them, and that's what he did. He pleased them, but never touched them. These little bitch rulers that Naraku favored. “If you're finished, I'm going back to my quarters.” He said, his voice cold.

She glared at him. “It would appear that what everyone is saying is true. Even that.” She gestured at his hips with a pale hand. The nails on it were painted blood red. “It's just a useless hunk of meat. Naraku should give you to the Coven and have you shaved!”

He looked at her, leaning towards her. He watched as her breath quickened and her lips parted. “Naraku wont have me shaved.” He said confidently. “It's hard to sell damaged merchandise.” Then, he straightened and walked out of the room, smiling pleased when he heard the temper tantrum that was being thrown behind the door. Ah, it was so delightful to see the fury they felt.

He walked to his room and looked out across the black night. The air was cool, but he didn't mind. He could smell the forest and it covered up the disgusting scent of whatever perfume Yura had used in an attempt to entice him. He was tired of waiting, of being passed from person to person like a whore. Yura had been right, however. It didn't matter who he was with, he did not get an erection. They dare not use any drugs to entice him into bed. The last women who had tried hadn't survived, and he'd disappeared briefly afterwards.

But he'd always had to return.

Because that bastard Naraku had Izayoi, the only real light he'd found in the Shadowlands. She had given him hope year after year that he'd been stuck here. It had been weeks since that prophecy, weeks of time that he'd been here, playing the whore, hoping that Yura and Naraku would let their guard down. He knew that soon he'd have to go inside and bathe, to truly remove the scent of the bitch off his skin. For now, he just wanted to think.

Idly, he wondered what she would be like. Would she mind terribly that he'd been used as such, or that he wasn't pure or clean or good? He wouldn't show the side of himself that he showed to others. There was another side that those he served didn't see. The side that made brews to help ease the discomfort of a woman's moon cycle or one that he would sneak into a males drink or food to keep him from using anyone that night.

To keep more witches from suffering the pain that Izayoi had. Men in the Shadowlands sometimes didn't have a problem with finding a tender young Witch, fresh into her powers and slipping under her mental barriers, shattering her powers, her body, and sometimes her mind as well. As was the case with the woman who'd cared for him until he was able to defend himself, then finally succumbed to the darkness that had been dragging her down since Naraku had broken her.

“Mother night...” He cursed softly, running a hand through his silver hair and untangling a few snarls that Yura had managed to tangle into his hair prior to him doing his job. He had set her on the bed and stayed as far away from her as was possible while doing what he had to do.

Had to do.

He snarled, descending slightly into the most shallow levels of darkness. How I hate it here...

You're an angry one.

He blinked, freezing. Someone was speaking to him. Someone who was deeper in the darkness than he himself was. He shivered slightly, descending a bit deeper. I figure I have a right to be.

That's okay. I'm angry too. The voice belonged to a child he could tell, but there was something about it that made him ache. It paused, and he could almost feel the presence of whoever was with him in the darkness. Do they hurt you?

He didn't know what to say. He could feel small hands on his shoulders and desperately wanted to see the face that went with it. In a manner of speaking...

They hurt lots of people where I am. So I hide here. Is that why you're here?

His eyes widened. It wasn't safe for just anyone to descend into the Darkness, and the further one went, the greater the risk that you wouldn't come back. Descending to hide was almost insane. Yes. He agreed. It's not safe here for little cats, though. He warned gently. Bad people can go into the darkness, too.

It's okay. I can go deep enough no one can find me.

He shuddered at that statement. Daughter of Darkness...

A laugh. I know that story. My mother tells me it's just a myth. There was something dark and angry in that voice, under that innocent laugh.

I'm a believer. He said, wishing he could really touch her. It was her. She was right there, in the Darkness with him. That knowledge made him long to stay there. Because she exists.

The girl went silent. Those hands moved to his face and he could almost feel as though he were being scrutinized. Then, something pressed against his cheek and he realized it was her lips. It was a childish kiss, a child's kiss. Thank you...The voice whispered softly.

Then, she was gone and Inuyasha was thrown from the comfort of the Darkness abruptly and back into the hateful reality. He cursed viciously and closed his eyes, fisting his hands against the railing. For a few short moments, he'd been free, free of Naraku, free of everything, and he was being touched by something that felt pure and dark and wonderful. “The Daughter of Darkness...” He whispered, closing his eyes tightly. Then, they opened slowly.

He had to get the hell out of here.

He had to find out where she was. He had to find her.

But until then, he could descend each night and take comfort in the fact that he was closer to where she was, even if he couldn't feel her there.

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The party was a travesty.

Sango had decided that long before it had ever started, watching as they set out tray upon tray of food, most of it things that her parents would never have served. She watched the preparations from high above, at the top of the stairs. She remained there even after guests started arriving.

She knew how this party would go.

Like all the other's did.

Sango Tanaka lived with her uncle, not by choice. Her parents had died years ago, partially due to actions that her uncle took in order to gain control of the family, and as a result, the families sizable territory. Unfortunately for her, who was actually the heir, she could not get control back until she was eighteen, still five years away, and even more unfortunately, he would likely have her killed or married off by then.

She ground her teeth together as she watched her father's new lover shout orders as though she were actually someone important. The woman was wrapped in expensive silks, at odds with the coarse wool pants Sango wore and the soft cotton men's shirt. They were clothes that she'd bartered off one of the male servants around the time she started developing breasts at age ten, and hadn't looked back since.

A few people who were outside the immediate family believed that she was forced to wear those as an insult to her and her parents.

Sango smirked a bit. She wore these garments because it kept hands from attempting to grope her up her skirt.

One can't try to feel you up if you're dressed like a man.

The biggest advantage was that the men who were older than her, the ones that had been starting to try to stuff their hands up her skirt, couldn't tell she was a girl anymore. She kept her hair tied up on her head, wore boy's clothes and usually was covered in dirt. These clothes suited her better than those silks, anyways. They suited her better the same reason they usually suited girls who had been Touched.

It's a lot easier to deal with trash that try to hurt you if you're dressed in a way that you can kick the crap out of them before they can touch you.

She fingered a cuff on her baggy white shirt and sighed.

Things were getting antsy in the Realm of Light. Things had been getting more and more antsy over time. It was like the taint that was prevalent in the Shadowlands was seeping over into this realm and things were turning to shit.

A strong hand rested on her shoulder and ordinarily she would have come unglued.

But she knew this hand. She turned, grinning at her younger brother, Kohaku. He was barely eleven, and already stood level at her shoulder. “You see his new trophy slut?” She quipped, gesturing down to the ground level. “I wonder if I should spill punch on her fur at dinner.”

“Wouldn't do any good.” Kohaku huffed. “He'd just buy her another.” He shook his head, frowning. “So, besides her, what's wrong?”

Sango sighed, looking towards her brother. He would know something was wrong with her. She was the only member of the family she was close enough to that she dared drop her guard in his presence. “To be honest?” She asked. “I haven't heard from Kagome in more than a week. I bet that awful family of hers sent her back to that quack mental hospital...” She fisted her hands against the hand rail. “How can she stay there when they treat her like that?!”

Kohaku gently patted her shoulder. He knew of Kagome, though he'd never had an opportunity to meet her. They remained quiet about the visits, so that their uncle wouldn't learn that another Daughter had been born onto this plane and walked among them once again.

The Daughter of Darkness was a story their mother had told years ago, before she had died. They had become enthralled by the idea that someone could actually walk through the Darkness and not become Lost. They used to pretend that they served her, until their parents died and they'd almost lost hope.

Within a week, Sango had met Kagome.

It was a good thing, too, because Kagome had been the thing that kept Sango cool-headed even when the boys around them had started behaving more like animals and less like men. Kohaku could remember the first meal when a boy had tried to feel his big sister up.

She'd pulled the knife from the steak on her plate, grabbed the unfortunate boy's hair and pressed the blade against his throat and told him that if he ever set hand on her again, she'd ritualistically disembowel him and they'd have him for dinner.

That didn't scare any one. What freaked everyone out was that she'd said it as calmly as though she were discussing the weather.

Kohaku mentally cackled with malicious glee. No one touched his sister unless they really weren't concerned with living to their next birthday.

Sango sighed softly, drawing his attention back to her. “I miss her.” She said sadly. She looked towards her brother, her strange purple eyes showing her sadness. The sign that she'd been Touched at birth. People who were Touched at birth tended to have unusual eyes. His own were brown, the color he'd been born with. Their mother's had been blue, and Sango's purple.

Their father's had been brown as well, but he and Kohaku were boys, and usually boys were Touched later in life.

“I'm going to make a descent tonight.” She said abruptly. “I'll go as deep as I can and see if I can reach her. Sometimes, when I do that, I can almost feel her.” She looked towards her younger brother, grinning. “Maybe I'll find some other interesting characters in the Darkness as well.” She straightened, heading towards the stairs, dusting off her shirt. “After all, we can't be the only ones who intend to serve her.”

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Miroku was getting worried. He hadn't seen her in the market in days and now, when he made his nightly descent; of course with Kaede holding tightly to his hand so that he wouldn't slip away; he hadn't felt her either. He had gone down each night and called out to her, but she wasn't answering.

Sometimes, however, he got a rather coarse response from deep in the darkness to shut the hell up because some people were trying to relax.

He stared out the window at the darkening sky and stood, grabbing his traveling cloak and wrapped it around himself. His walking stick rested beside the door, more for protection than for assistance. It would be time to make a descent soon, so he needed to get to Kaede's.

There was something about that voice he'd been encountering, a strength that was too dark to be average, too deep to merely be touched. It was a familiar feeling, but he hadn't placed where he recognized it from just yet. He presumed that within one or two more encounters, he'd know for certain. He raised the hood of his cloak and walked outside, humming softly under his breath.

He was just outside Kaede's home when he felt a strange tug on his mind. Someone else was descending.

He rushed inside, threw the cloak off and the walking stick aside and immediately descended, hoping against hope that it was who he thought it was. He scarcely heard Kaede's warning before her hand wrapped around his, preventing the free fall into the Darkness that would have left him a broken mind. He descended as deep as he could, searching for some sign of her presence. Kagome!

Something, a consciousness brushed against his in curiosity. A vaguely husky voice came to him, but it wasn't the midnight voice he'd hoped for. You know her as well? You call her by name, so you must know her, too.

His eyes snapped wide, and he looked around the murky darkness. Who are you...? This mind was as dark as his, maybe a bit more so. The power went just a tad deeper, but it wasn't the one who felt familiar. No, this one was a female power. He could almost put a face with that voice.

An abrupt laugh. It wasn't amused. I am her friend. Who are you?

He contemplated that question. He could lie, he was used to lying to the voices he heard in the darkness. Yet, he couldn't find it in himself to do so. There was something about this voice. A child on the cusp of womanhood, someone he would likely meet later in life, who could cause him great deals of trouble if he wasn't truthful. I am Miroku. I am her escort.

Escort, a term for someone in the inner circle of someone important. The title for someone important. Not someone who was born a peasant, who had no scrape of money to their name. But the title rang in him. He didn't want anything more than to serve her in such an aspect. Protect and serve. The words echoed through him like an impression, but he hadn't sent out an impression.

There was a feeling of faint approval from the other mind. Have you felt her? Is she here?

I haven't felt her. He admitted. He was deeply worried about that. If she's here, she's too deep for me to reach without...He stopped himself. He didn't know this mind. Why was he letting so much of himself be known to her?

There was a long pause and they just remained side by side in the darkness. You shouldn't descend so fast, you could get stuck in the Darkness.

He wanted to laugh. He could get stuck in the Darkness. But at least he'd be closer to the Daughter. I'm not afraid of the Darkness. He said calmly. He felt the shock, and then the approval.

Good. It wouldn't do for the Daughter of Darkness to have an escort who was afraid of the Dark. The voice quipped and then, he was once again alone in the darkness.

He remained hanging in space for a brief time, considering leaving, but something compelled him to remain for a bit longer.

It was good that he did.

Just as he was preparing to ascend, he felt someone slip past him, barely noticeable, a mind that was familiar. A mind that he'd run into frequently in the darkness. It was cold, rude, and abrupt. It was also darker than he was. A great deal darker. He felt it sink beneath him, swallowed in the darkness.

That was when he realized how he recognized the feel.

It felt the same as a demon whom he had periodically encountered in the darkness. A demon known as the Demon Lord. The one called Inutaisho. A dark soul who was over a thousand years old, who had lived through the birth of the last Daughter. The one Kaede had said would handle most of the girl's training.

He ascended slowly, deciding that attempting to pursue into depths that he couldn't handle would be beyond stupid. When he finally left the black depths of his mind, he looked towards Kaede. “The hanyou lives.” He said softly. “And he will serve.”

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