InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Desecration of Innocence ❯ Head Games ( Chapter 2 )

 

CHAPTER TWO

 

Head Games

 

 

It was thrumming; two currents pushing the other; one picking up speed as it went almost drowning out the rush of the weaker.

 

As she drifted into the beginning stages of consciousness she had the distinct feeling that she was caught in the midst of a battle, her body aching from the pressure of the force fighting for dominance. As she drifted on she came to notice differences in her body temperature, soon to be followed by differences in elevation. Confused she furrowed her brow as she came out of the last stage of sleep. Trying to push herself up she became aware of the fact that her head was resting on something warm, firm, and cushy, while the rest of her was on - what she concluded to be - cold, hard packed dirt. All the more confused she pried her eyes open choosing to ignore the dull thud of the headache that seemed to be protesting against her muddled procession of thought. That wasn't the only ache that made itself known: her arms, legs, stomach, back - not to mention neck - had her seriously questioning if she had awoken in the middle of that battle she felt apart of.

 

The next thing she noticed was that it was hard to see. 'It's dim.'

 

Shifting her eyes this way and that she scanned the unfamiliar area. This resulted in her rising panic, giving her the strength she needed to push herself up; despite the shouting protests her body gave. Turning her head wildly, she hissed when her stiff neck put its foot down physically stating: 'No can do sister.'

 

Once again forcing her eyes open she caught movement out of the corner, and, once again, the panicky feeling started to rise in her stomach.

 

"Shhh ... It's okay Kagome, it's only me." He stroked her hair. "Now stop moving around baka, and put your head back down on my lap, you're only going to hurt yourself more if you keep doing that."

 

With Inuyasha's familiar voice calming her, she licked her dry lips and swallowed, not liking the acrid taste the action left.

 

"Inuyasha?" In her disoriented state she dismissed the odd feeling saying his name gave her. "Where are we? What happened?"

 

She heard a sad sigh come from Inuyasha and the odd feeling grew.

 

"Oh Kagome," he pulled her into his arms. "Gods Kagome, something terrible happened. I - I don't know how to…" he trailed off, voice strained.

 

The odd feeling continued to grow, as did the feeling that she really didn't want to know.

 

"Shippo ... he's dead."

 

It all came crashing back, hitting her like a tidal wave, and making her stomach churn and fear grip at her heart.

 

'Inuyasha,' sensing her realization snickered, and added:

 

"I cut off his furry little head."

 

She shoved herself out of his now loose embrace, scrambling away from him as quickly as she could dig her heels into the ground, and shuffled backward. She could see his amber eyes looming in the darkness, his murky white hair framing a barely discernable face.

 

Her now saucer like eyes - vision having become acute in a way only sudden terror can cause - could now make out his silhouette.

 

She hit the wall.

 

'I'm trapped! I'm trapped! I'm trapped!' her bewildered mind chanted over and over. Hearing his low chuckles she watched in muted horror as he came closer.

 

'Gods I'm going to die! Inuyasha is going to kill me!' The rational part of her mind abruptly cut off that line of thought (none too gently) reminding her that there was an imitation Inuyasha and this was it.

 

Wishing her voice didn't sound so pathetic when she spat his name (or when she at least tried to), but shifting from panic to fear to anger had left her mouth cottony and dry and her throat tight.

 

He 'keh'ed and it echoed off the walls.

 

"Are you sure?" he asked in a silky voice -mocking her - which was followed by the sound of rustling fabric, and a deep inhalation.

 

Kagome unconsciously did the same, and somewhere in the back of her mind it registered that her surroundings smelled of damp earth, and musty wood.

 

In the brief silence that followed 'Inuyasha's' actions, Kagome began gathering her thoughts, forcing all the pain and sorrow away, focusing on her hate and anger to keep her grounded. She was about to say something when something soft bumped against her leg. She let out a startled gasp at the unexpected contact. After a few moments of nervous contemplation she reached a tentative hand out, stretching it as far as she could without removing her entire body from its contact with the wall. Her eyes never left his, not until her fingertips brushed up against something other then dirt.

 

She came to the conclusion that it was some kind of fur after stroking it several times. But the conclusion that soon followed stole her very breath away. She realized that the fur had an all too familiar baby softness, which held the beginning subtle hints of the coarseness it would have acquire with time. She wanted desperately to snatch her hand away and curl herself into a ball so that she could grieve for the young youkai, but her hand just stayed frozen.

 

In the end she didn't have to.

 

Barely making a sound 'Inuyasha' towered over her and snatched up the fur. She shank back, legs drawn up to her chest, hands pressed firmly against the wall. He dropped down to her level. His face was dangerously close to hers, close enough for her to make out the shadowy contours of it, and the amused smirk that reached his eyes.

 

Such close proximity to 'him' did nothing to quell her urge to throw up; she was able to identify him now as Naraku. Her powers may not have been up to par with Kikyo's but she still had enough to see through his concealing spell. It was so nauseating. His presence beating down on her, closing in on her, and for the moment she was grateful for whatever spell he had cast because had it not been in place she was sure she would have passed out from the evil that rolled off of him.

 

With her eyes trained on his, her breath unconsciously held she was completely taken by surprise when he brought the furry object up and began to lightly draw it across her face. Letting her breath out quickly then sucking it back in she turned her face away from the offending object, pressing her cheek against the walls cool surface in a futile attempt to receive some form of consolation, squeezing her eyes shut.

 

Watching her reaction intently he drew lazy figure eight's over her exposed cheek. He let it trail down her neck and brushed it over what would be her collarbone if it hadn't been covered, which was, in his opinion, a ridiculous waste of material. He liked how she shuddered when the fluff dipped into the small exposed hollow the strange shirt left open. His satisfaction grew when he observed that her lips and chin started to tremble with the effort she was putting forth to keep her tears, and distressed noises, at bay.

 

"Do you not like my present little miko?" he asked mockingly. "I would think you would glad to have a memento to keep the kit fresh in your memory. And what better way to do so then with something he was very attached to ... literally. You can't get anymore personal then that can you?" his acquired voice asked questioningly. Although he could not completely mask the silky smooth quality of his own voice he liked the combined effect they produced. It was mysterious and seductive with a hint of boyish charm that was almost playful. Under different circumstances he was positive that he would be able to simply use this voice to persuade the little miko bitch on her back, legs spread for him.

 

'There's time for that later,' he brought his slightly wandering thoughts back on track, smiling inwardly.

 

A thick sounding 'ungh' made its way to Naraku's currently triangular ears, and his inward smile turned outward.

 

"Following the deaths of some, the victor sees fit to return from their battle with a token of their foes defeat. For some it is customary to take the head of those defeated, or the tongue, or the teeth. There are even those who feel it necessary to return with the whole body to flaunt their victory. But I thought that this victory called for something a little different." He rose from his position in front of her. "Something special," his voices playful quality asserted itself full force. One would have had to be deaf not to hear the smile in it, and how it dripped with mockery.

 

Kagome could picture the curl of his lips. 'Just like before he killed Shippo.' Re-shutting her eyes (that had opened during his retreat) she felt another wave of nausea. Being so close to one so evil - no matter how well masked his jyaki was - combined with being caressed with her adoptive son's pelt, it was a bloody miracle that what little contents remaining in her stomach were not already displayed before her.

 

Breathing in deep a couple of times and expelling it shakily, she did her best to hold in her sniffles. Forcing herself to look up, she searched for his shadowy form. He emerged from a darker region of the room absently stroking the fur with his clawed left hand.

 

"Although bringing his furry little head would have been more preferable I had to leave it as a surprise for the others. If I had taken it all they would have been left with was his body, and, as I am sure you yourself know it is one thing to see a dead body. But it is quite another to look into their lifeless eyes and be able to see who they used to be. It is also something altogether different to look on a strangers body, and into their blank eyes then it is to look on one of your own isn't it." his voice was sad and dejected like before but this time she could hear the laughter, that mocking undertone.

 

Bunching her fists into the fabric of her skirt, Kagome glared at him for all that she was worth through the tears that were threatening to fall. The salty water swelled precariously at the rim waiting for the signal to start their descent.

 

Putting all of her shock and pain and hate into her next statement; the trembling force behind the guttural words paved the way for what she would come to think of as a never-ending stream of tears.

 

"How could you," she ground out, her heart already breaking for what she considered to be her second family was about to experience.

 

A few more tears slid down their assigned tracks.

 

In her mind the death of Shippo replayed, the image of his detached head, eyes rolled up staring at her. 'I didn't close them. His eyes are still open, and they'll see-they'll see ... oh gods, they'll see his eyes all dead and dull, all of their life gone. All of his life gone.' More tears were falling now, slipping one after another, some catching in the corners snaking their way down the curve of her cheeks.

 

"How could you," she repeated but this time the hate filled statement had been reduced to a trembling, whispered question. She even lowered her eyes not wanting this thing, this monster to see her cry anymore. The shame and pain were her own, and she did not want to give this, the one who looked so much like the person she trusted with her life, and loved with all her heart, the satisfaction of seeing her in pain.

 

Little did she know that this pain was but the very tip of the ice burg, and she had a very long, long way to go to reach the bottom.