InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Devour Prometheus ❯ Tracks in the Dust ( Chapter 4 )

Disclaimer: These characters belong to Rumiko Takahashi and other associated companies.

 

 

Chapter Four: Tracks in the Dust

 

 

Bile rushing up her throat, Kagome turned away, retching the contents of her stomach onto the ground. Tendrils of spit hanging from her quivering lip, she stood hunched over the puddle as she heaved, eyes burning and her hands gripping her shaky knees. As the nausea eventually passed, her head seemed impossibly light and her body strangely numb. Hypnotized, she stared blankly at the blurry and disgusting pool, wondering if it was her liquefied brains that had gushed from her mouth like they had dripped from the severed head of the unfortunate guardian Sesshoumaru had slain.

 

Taking a few awkward steps back, the priestess' eyes rose to the star-speckled sky above, desperate to immerse herself in anything but what surrounded her feet. Despite her efforts, the inescapable scents of death, vomit and poison haunted each intake of breath and the quiet, innocuous noises of chewing slipped unbidden into her ears. Shortly however, the sounds ceased and relief left her in a shivering sigh.

 

“We must depart,” the daiyoukai spoke up coolly, the accustomed smoothness of his baritone stark after the primal roughness that had pervaded his voice not a moment earlier. “It will not be long before more will arrive and the same ruse will not work twice.” Silence was her only reply as words seemed to fail her tongue, leaving him to accept a lack of objection as an accord.

 

The sensation of his strengthening youki prickling her skin, she felt him pass by, heading toward the road across the pasture. Her skyward gaze lowered to the long, silver mane that swayed behind his back as he walked and her clenched fists tightened. Knuckles turning white under the strain, the hard resistance of the needle still gripped in her hand soon stole her attention and she opened her palm to gaze at it. Spying up at the departing youkai lord and then back down to the weapon, the miko then stealthily slipped it into her sleeve, careful to not let the cluster of tiny bells dangling at its end to ring. Lending one final glance to the sandaled feet of the slain woman since she did not have the courage to let her sight drift further, the priestess then began to follow the demon through the field.

 

At the edge of the road not far from the wagon once belonging to the masked warriors, Sesshoumaru crouched to pick up the Staff of Heads. Delicately cradled in his hand, he examined the bloodied weapon. Then as he stood up, he slipped it easily beside the two swords secured in his belt, ignoring the smears of dark red it added to his already stained clothing.

 

The clinking of metal and nervous stamping of hooves sounding its presence, the agitated horse at the fore of the cart drew the youkai next. Tethered to a tree on the fringe of the dense forest, it pulled on the rein as he approached, tossing its head as it fought against the leather and wooden binds of its harness. Snaring it by its bridle, he pulled the rearing beast's head down to meet his, hot snorts from its flared nostrils ruffling his bangs. Taking in a long sniff, the daiyoukai absorbed the animal's unique, musty scent in one breath and then released it from his grasp.

 

Nervously, the miko watched on as he abandoned the dangerous, gnashing teeth the horse bared for its vulnerable flank, his sharp claws tracing along the sinewy muscles until they met the cumbersome straps. Expecting another scene of ruthless gore and consumption, Kagome winced as his hand rose, poised to gut the defenseless creature. Then his feared strike came, grazing short of drawing blood as it instead began to slice benignly at the joints of the harness until it fell free. Bucking wildly, the panicked animal kicked away what remained of its bonds and as the demon lord finished with a final deft swipe, the reins were severed. In a flurry of hooves, it bolted, galloping frantically back down the road. Snorting lightly in satisfaction, Sesshoumaru's eyes followed the fleeing animal until it disappeared beyond his sight.

 

“Why?” a dark voice asked behind him and the daiyoukai coolly spied over his shoulder at the priestess, the grim severity of her expression strikingly foreign compared to her usual affability.

 

“Why what, miko?”

 

“Why any of this?” she asked again, the iciness of her cold anger chilling her voice further. “I don't understand why any of this happened. It didn't have to end this way.”

 

“Hn,” he snorted, his mild incredulity a reply to her reasoning, “I have slain vast armies for less than what those humans have accomplished. Their ends could have only been met in one fashion, miko.”

 

“Death and that's it? Death and… and what you did to her?”

 

“A priestess passes judgment on the acts of a demon. How unexpected.”

 

With a slightly limping gait, Sesshoumaru walked away, passing the lonely wagon as he slowly traced the path the horse had taken. Behind him, Kagome remained cemented in place, her frustrated rage unsatisfied and his disparaging statement about her station only infuriating her more. Then in a quick, few steps, she caught up with him, the piercing glare of her gray eyes leveled undeniably on his forward looking face.

 

“Why did you say that? I have always done my best to be kind and understanding toward youkai. If anyone has blatantly slaughtered demons without thought or compassion, it's you. So, how dare you say that about me?”

 

“And yet you will always place humanity before youkai kind.”

 

“What makes you believe that? What have I done that deserves that accusation? You talk about judgment when you're in fact the one judging me.”

 

“How many demons have you slain with those arrows you carry, miko?”

 

“What?”

 

“How many demons have you slain?”

 

“I-I don't know,” she tripped over her words, surprised by his pointed question.

 

“And how many humans have fallen by your hand?”

 

“That's different. I…”

 

“How many?”

 

“I've never shot a human before, if that's what you're getting at, but…”

 

“Countless youkai perished during Naraku's rise and fall. So many died in that time that our numbers have been remarkably diminished in the years that have passed since. How many do you believe were by your hand? By that strung length of wood you so proudly carry?”

 

“Those demons that I purified were attacking innocent people. I had to do it to save them. I didn't have a choice”

 

“And the evil humans you encountered in your travels were doing less? Did you have the choice to spare them? You may find my methods despicable and lacking compassion, but I can at least take solace in the notion that I do not discriminate between whom I slay and whom I do not. Be they youkai or human, they will all die if they disrespect me and my power.”

 

A long silence fell between them as they traveled down the road. Soon they broached the rim of the forest; their path freckled with the shadows of the looming trees. A fork in the trail met them shortly and she noticed the wagon wheel tracks diverting to the left as the demon pressed on to the right. Accustomed to the greater experience of others to find the way, she continued to follow him, though her unspoken doubt remained ever present in her mind. If they were meaning to rescue Inuyasha and the daiyoukai's servants then why had they abandoned the clear tracks that would lead them to them?

 

After passing through countless more twists and splits of the snaking road, the youkai lord finally paused in mid-step, holding out a staying hand as he turned his head to catch distant sounds on the wind. Concern pressing behind Kagome's lips, he spun on his heel before she could utter a question and grasped her shoulders. Startled by his firm touch and still brimming with rage at his inhuman acts earlier, she nearly yelled a wrathful objection, but his stern look quelled her into continuing the silence. Then with a labored spring, he carried her as he leapt into the thick tangle of vegetation that grew alongside the road. Together they crouched down behind a fallen tree, his silver hair and their conspicuously white clothing hidden well by the decaying log and the bushes and ferns that surrounded it.

 

The stillness of a quiet night met them as they peered over the tree toward the road. Time passed emptily as they waited, leaving the miko to truly wonder if there was anything coming to be feared. Then in the space of a blink, a jagged shadow lighted onto the path and her uncertainty dissolved with a gasp of surprise. Wearing tattered, black clothing and a white, bird-like mask, the dark figure appeared identical to the warriors they had encountered earlier in the evening. Liquid in its movements, it vanished in a moment as it raced down the road. Not alone in its mission, it was swiftly pursued by a growing flock of similarly dressed men, their sleeves fluttering like charred pieces of paper as they sprinted by with their bandaged hands trailing behind them.

 

A terrifying crunch of leaves beside her wrenched the miko's attention away from the road as a multitude of causes flashed through her mind. What her harried sight discovered however was the one she had scarcely considered. Vigilance drained by lethargy, the demon lord slumped slowly as he knelt; drawn toward the log he leaned heavily against for support. Another rustle rose in the air as his bent knee then met the ground, the usually subtle sound deafening in the silent night. A fine layer of dust stirring as he slid to a stop, one figure abandoned the hunt of his brethren to stare directly into the woods, drawn by the suspect noises. Hand on the hilt of his blade; he confidently approached the edge until his feet met the blanket of leaves. Glancing between them, soundless pleas left her lips as the man lingered there, tempted to enter as he methodically poured over the undergrowth for a reason to do so.

 

Then in a moment, he was gone, joining the others in their nameless quest as he deserted his. The pale road finally empty once more, a shaky sigh left Kagome and she wearily spied over at the daiyoukai at her side.

 

“Sesshoumaru? Sesshoumaru, they're gone.”

 

Roused by the sound of his name, the youkai lord rose carefully to his feet, veiling his fatigue with a sure stride as he left the concealing woods for the openness of the road. Continuing toward the direction that the masked men had originated from, he departed with the preoccupied priestess trailing behind him. Immersed in her thoughts, she stared at the footprint dappled path, wondering where the mysterious men were so urgently going that even suspicious stirrings in the woods were not enough to pause their steps for long. Then an odd impression in the dirt caught her eye. Made intermittent by the opposing wave of tracks left by the warriors, the fresh, horseshoe pattern left by the galloping gait of a horse revealed itself to her.

 

“That's why you freed the horse,” she announced her realization, “We were never following the wagon that took Inuyasha.”

 

“A panicked horse does not lie,” he replied, “Even now its fear is pungent on the wind and safety to such a beast is its own stable. This way is far truer than deceptive lines in the dust.”

 

“I thought you had spared it. After everything else tonight, I thought you had just let it live.”

 

“Would you have preferred that I had eaten it like the woman?” he asked darkly, looking back at her with his eyes glimmering faintly in the moonlight. “That I had devoured its liver as well?”

 

Blood draining from her face, she stared in disbelief at the strange amusement that kinked his usually impassive expression. Then, Kagome felt the prickle of her hair rising on the back of her neck as his icy gaze continued to linger on her. His words spoken so coolly had faded the comfortable humanity of his appearance to reveal the brutal nature of the demon that simmered beneath the surface.

 

“You enjoyed it, didn't you?”

 

“Their deaths, I enjoyed. Her flavor however was not exceptional. A priestess' liver tastes no different than any other.”

 

“So, it's true. She really was a miko.”

 

“Without doubt.”

 

“I wanted to save her.”

 

“Save her?”

 

“I could have saved her.”

 

“Hn,” he sneered, “A slashed throat is not a scraped knee, miko. Measures of salves and herbs would have only prolonged her suffering and misery. What a strange notion of mercy you entertain.”

 

“You have no right to talk about mercy!” she raged at him, seething anger roiling from her and tears streaking her cheeks as she stormed up to him. Pausing in his step, Sesshoumaru turned to face her wrath, welcoming the ferocity with a detached air. “You slashed her throat with your claws and you tortured the others with poison. And when you did it, you took pleasure in it. All of it.”

 

“Yes, I did.”

 

“And then you crushed her neck while I was trying to save her and, and carved her open like a butcher to eat her liver.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Why? Why did you do it? She was a woman. You looked after little Rin for all that time as if she were your own daughter. You even fought Naraku in the end to save her life. How could you eat that woman after all of that? She could have been Rin. She could have been… me.”

 

“Have you forgotten what I am?” he replied coldly as he leaned in close to her face, his cool breath brushing against her skin and the trance of his unnaturally golden eyes inescapable as they bound to hers. “I am a demon. I am a beast. And meat is meat. Nourishment is not conjured from nothingness and we all must feed to survive. Thus the blood that has been spilt from my wounds will be returned. So, be it theirs or yours, I care not, but you will not place the taboos of humanity upon me. I am not human and I never will be.”

 

“You would do it again?”

 

“Would? I will do it again.”

 

Inhaling abruptly and deliberately through his nose, the daiyoukai ended his verbal battle with the priestess to scent the air with a light sniff. Then he stood up slowly, his intense stare rising to seek the ribbon of road they had already traveled. Even as only shadowed emptiness lay before him, the growing odor of sweat and grime foretold that it would very swiftly be otherwise.

 

“They are returning,” he warned, “We must--”

 

A dulcet jingle preceding a sharp pinch silenced his words and his disbelieving sight fell to the miko before him. Her lip bit and eyes averted to the dusty ground, Kagome could not return his shocked look as she slid the needle deeper into his side. Quickly, she finished pressing it all the way into his old wound, the warmth of his youki instantly evaporating as the slippery damp of pouring blood now slicked her fingers. Unfathomable rage narrowed his eyes as he finally understood her betrayal, but he could do nothing for it. With the heavy, rustling thump of silk and armor, he collapsed, the world turning black.