InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Half-Breed ❯ Chapter VIII ( Chapter 10 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Half-Breed: Chapter VIII

Yes, I must have still been feverish. I fell into a faint soon afterwards, but did not realize it until I awoke early the next morning, alone in Yasume’s hut, lying in a shady corner of the room. My broken arm had been laid atop a zabuton with care, next to the futon. I wiggled my fingers. For a moment, I gazed thoughtfully at my injured, but quickly healing limb. I would thank Yasume when I was well for the consideration she offered, and I nodded inwardly at the idea.
“Good morning,” I heard Yasume say quietly as she stood in the doorway holding a tray in her hands. I abruptly sat up, food instantly the only thing on my mind, but cringed when the sudden movement caused sharp pain in my side. Yasume knelt beside me, setting the tray to the tatami with a cheery smile. “Give your wounds some time, you impatient thing. Even demons cannot repair such injuries like magic.” She held a bowl of gohan, and hashi toward me. “Hungry?” I greedily snatched the dish from her hands, voraciously cramming rice into my mouth.
Yasume attentively observed me finish off a second bowl of gohan, following a plate of sushi, a dish of tsukudani, and a small fish. “For such a little person, you sure can eat a lot.” I paused and looked up at her, my hashi halfway to my open mouth. Of course, she had no idea that the last time I had eaten was four days before. “Haven’t you been hunting?”
I took a bite of rice. “I’m learning.” After a moment of silence, I set the dish into my lap, purposefully keeping my eyes trained on the bowl. “Yasume…”
“Yes.”
“Why are you helping me?” The question sounded to my ears almost as an accusation. There was a long quiet, and I reluctantly looked up at her. Yasume had her eyes down, had her hands in her lap, twisting her fingers as if she was afraid to say what she wished.
“It was two years ago,” she said quietly. “My little boy…” Yasume smiled at the memory. “He was such a beautiful child with soft, dark eyes, and a button for a nose, and a little crooked smile.” She moved her finger about in the air as though she was drawing a picture. “He had a sad face.” Her hand dropped to her lap, and she looked at me with a smile, and I saw the sorrow in her eyes. “He was about your age. He was a bit like you, I think. A little lonely, a little sad. Not many friends. ‘Mama is so busy and Papa isn’t around anymore’.” She nodded. “Yes, he was a little sad. But how he loved the open air! Everyday, out through the door he would run, and every evening I would have to tow him back inside, and he would kick and giggle the whole way, telling me ‘I just wanna play a little longer’.” Yasume looked away. “Two years ago, during the winter months, I had to leave home for a time. There was a demon causing trouble near a village away to the west. There was…he played outside until long after nightfall… It got late, and it got cold, and he… he became ill. When I returned, the fever had very nearly claimed him.” She gazed down at her hands. “It was not three days later when…”
She had to stop. She couldn’t say anymore, but she didn’t have to. I finished the tale myself - her son had died of some illness that she could do nothing about… she blamed herself. She saw a similarity, between me and her lost son, and she thought that it was happening to her again. That was why she said that the villagers did not understand.
It was silent for a moment, and Yasume turned to me. “May I ask you a question?” I nodded. “You called me ‘Mother’ yesterday. Why is that?”
I dropped my eyes, and shook my head, feeling my chest constrict, but I felt as though I didn’t have to weep. “My mother died,” I said very quietly. When I looked back up at her, she was staring at me as if she would cry. I swiftly sought to correct any such thing… I hated it when women cried. “It was a week ago, so I’m okay now. I think I still had a fever, because I thought that I could see her, but she wasn’t really there. Well, maybe I saw her ghost… but it’s alright because she told me that she would always be with me, and that I don’t have to worry.” For a moment, I thought that Yasume would hug me, but instead, she sighed listlessly, gathering up the empty dishes and piling them on the tray. “I am sorry for you and your mother, Inuyasha. But I must attend to some business.” As she started for the door, she turned to me. “I’ve set your clothes on that seat there.” She gestured her head toward a chair in another corner, and gave me a little smile before leaving. “I’m glad that you are okay.”
Glancing toward the bench, I noticed the white and red material laid neatly on the seat. Pushing the covers aside and setting my empty dish to the floor, I stood, flinching at the stiffness in my sore body. Holding my recovering arm watchfully close to my stomach, I limped to the seat and looked down at the fabric lying there. I lifted one of the familiar articles draped over the back of the chair - my kariginu, Father’s kariginu, the one that he had given to Mother on the day of his death. It was an especially cherished coat, made from the hair of the Fire Rat, serving as a near indestructible shield against flame, arrow, and sword, and though it had stayed with Father through the course of his lifetime, it looked as if it was new. It was in flawless condition, without a single broken thread, even after the brawl with the demon. I suppose I considered myself lucky to have been wearing the magical coat, which could shrink or stretch to fit its ‘master’ with perfection. If I had not had its shielding powers, I would have been lucky to get away without an arm at all. My ivory juban and hakama were made of the same special hair, and though the hakama had been torn in the fight, the damage caused to the material had repaired itself with ease, like it was a living thing healing wounds. The fabric has never needed and never will need a needle or thread put to it.
I captured the laundered fragrance or the Fire Rat kariginu and the hakama. They had been washed, and with the dirt and the blood went the rest of Mother’s scent. I felt like gagging. The kariginu slipped from my fingers, falling back to the chair as I turned my head away. There was nothing left of her…‘No,’ I scolded myself. ‘There is something.’ And I could feel my heart beating in my chest. Yes, there was still something left of her.
I grabbed my juban, carefully pulling it over my head, and wincing as I stretched my broken arm through a sleeve, but reveled in its feeling. My hakama were next, and I yanked them on, hopping around on my good leg until I tucked my juban, and tightened my sash around my waist.
“Hey,” came a whispered call from the doorway, and I glanced at the fusuma, noticing a young boy’s face peer around the corner at me. “Hey, come outside,” he said with a motion of his head to follow. I reluctantly limped after him, not bothering with my kariginu, and holding my arm close to my stomach protectively. The boy was waiting for me outside the doorway with a rather uninviting look on his face. He must have been three or four years older than I, though he was barely taller. There was a mischievous spark in his brown eyes, and an almost spiteful quirk at one corner of his mouth. His dark hair was tied up into a tail with an old piece of green material, and he wore an olive coloured kimono, and stood with his arms folded across his chest. He instantly came across as unpleasant to me, just by the way he glared at me. One corner of my top lip drew back in dislike, unconsciously showing off a fang to him.
“My name is Akuto. Me and a couple of others are going to the other side of the pond to have some fun. You wanna come?” the boy asked with forced enthusiasm.
I glanced back over my shoulder with hesitation, a little leery, but I shrugged and nodded my head. Why wouldn’t I want to go? I had spent much of my life without ‘companions’ to hang around with, and this seemed like a good opportunity to break that losing streak. At another gesture of Akuto’s head, I pursued after him, hoping against my doubts that ‘play’ was all the others wanted to do.
We climbed a small hill to where a lone tree grew, and a group of boys, eight and nine years, laughed and pushed each other around playfully. I stopped a distance from them, even as Akuto, who must have been the eldest, went to join them. I was unfamiliar with this setting. I could not remember ever having fun with boys my own age, because I had always been cast off with words like freak and monster. I stayed back from the group, keeping my broken arm against my stomach, watching them curiously, my ears hitching as I listened to them joke.
“Hey,” Akuto said to me, a - is wicked the word I’m looking for? - grin on his lips. “You wanna play, right?” I warily nodded. “Well, we have to initiate you first.” The other boys smirked, and one came forward, giving me a violent shove, jarring my broken arm enough to make me give a shout and stagger backwards. I clutched my injured limb close to me, gritting my teeth at the sharp pain, watching the boys in puzzlement as they circled around me, impious grins on their faces. A boy with wide dark eyes swung a punch which connected my sore arm, and I cried out at the stabbing ache, protectively turning that limb away from him. Another boy grabbed the shoulders of my juban, pushing me back hard enough that I stumbled into yet another, who wound his fists into my long hair, yanking my head back, and I felt a pair of feet collide with the backs of my knees. I toppled to the dirt, my head drawn up at a weird angle as one boy sharply pulled on my hair. Yet, I had told myself that I would not fight. I did not want to hurt any of them, lest the villagers hate me even more.
I dug my claws into the dirt, bracing my feet and giving a quick and powerful tug that tore my hair right from the boy’s hands. “Quit it!” I yelled, sending defiant stares all around me at the boys. “I thought you wanted to play a game!”
Akuto laughed. “You’re a demon, so I guess that you’re just too stupid to get it.”
I sent a glare his way, and promptly received a foot across my jaw, but I shook it away. “But I’m only half-demon! I’m half-human too!”
Akuto looked at me curiously. “You are, huh? Well, we’ll just have to see if we can get that human side out then,” he said with a heinous smile that had me instantly regretting my words. The next thing I knew, I was face down on the dirt with two boys sitting on my back, two others pinning my legs. I could have gotten up easily. Even their combined weight was nothing compared to the two-hundred-pound boulders that I could lift. I watched Akuto turn about, reaching his hand into a hollow in the tree. I couldn’t tell what he had withdrawn. He hid his hands well. “First thing’s first,” he smirked when he faced me. “Gotta cut those nails.” And he flashed the blade of an old knife in the air.
I gave a cry as a pair of boys yanked my arms, both arms, viciously in front of me, and I felt the healing bones in my broken limb shift painfully. Akuto knelt hard on my forearms, trapping them against the ground, and he teasingly waved the knife before my face with a wicked grin on his lips. I simply glared back at him, thinking that if he set that blade to my fingers, I would tear his hands off, but knowing I would not. If I hurt him, it would only serve as another reason for the villagers to hate me. There was already enough odium atop my shoulders.
“Your nails are too long for a human’s,” Akuto sneered. “Gotta cut ‘em off. And then your hair. And then your eyes…” He lowered the knife, and I forced myself to stay calm. But I felt that blade touch my fingers, and I stiffened. He was going to cut me. He was going to try to take off my fingers with that dull, rusty dagger. I felt the edge begin to slice into my skin, and what I did was instinctively swift.
With a roar, I tore my hands out from under his legs, ignoring the pain in my arm. My legs came up under me, sending the other boys tumbling to the dirt, and with a crushing swipe of my hand, Akuto, his brown eyes wide and frightened, was thrown fast to the ground, a cloud of dust rising around him. I was on my feet without realizing, growling, baring my fangs, looking fiercely upon each face that stared up at me in terror. Not one had probably known what had transpired until they sat up, dazed and shaken. I flexed my claws at them, snarling and showing off my fangs, and all except for Akuto ran off weeping in fear. He lay on the grass, groaning in pain. He glanced up at me through teary eyes, probably seeing the equivalent to a nightmare, all teeth and claws that I was. I narrowed my eyes dangerously at him, and he scurried backwards a bit.
“Never fucking touch me,” I ordered with calm fury, my words mixed up in an inhuman growl, and I stalked away, back toward the village. I should have known. I should have known that those boys would try to hurt me from the moment I saw that smirk on Akuto’s goddamn face. I should have known that I would be rejected right from the moment that bastard asked me to come outside. I should have known that it was too good to be true…any luck that I thought I might have never really existed. My broken arm was aching again, and I didn’t doubt that it would after how it had been roughhoused. Like Yasume said, even demons can’t heal injuries like magic, especially when some idiot decides that they’re going to give them a good, hard beating.
I returned to Yasume’s hut, flopped down cross-legged on the floor, and stared hard at the door, waiting patiently for her, and daring anyone else to set a foot inside - I would bite it off. The taijiya woman rushed in, her eyes wild and panicked, and I knew that she had heard about the fight on the hill. Damn tattletales. I don’t think she was very worried about any of them though, because as soon as she saw that I was settled right there in the hut, she breathed a sigh of relief, and knelt in front of me.
“My God,” she said, placing a hand to her chest. “Are you alright?”
I watched her curiously. “Aren’t you worried about Akuto and the others?”
Yasume shrugged. “Not entirely. I knew that you would not injure them. You are not that kind of person, I believe.” She noticed how I gingerly held my wounded arm protectively near my stomach. “Did they hurt you?” I shook my head, even if the limb was throbbing painfully. I have a tendency to lie about whether or not I’m feeling well. “What happened? Why did they come crying back to the village?”
I dropped my eyes to the floor. “Akuto wanted me to go outside and play with the rest of the boys. He said that they had to initiate me, and they started pushing me around and pulling my hair. So I told them…that I’m only a half-demon.” That caused her eyes to open so wide in surprise that I thought they could roll right out of her head. She apparently didn’t know. “My mother was human,” I continued. “And Akuto said that they wanted to get the human part out of me, so he grabbed a knife that he had hidden in the tree. A bunch of the boys pushed me down and sat on top of me so I couldn’t move, and Akuto said that he was going to cut my claws off, and my hair, and my eyes… I just got scared. I hit him, and he got hurt a bit. All of the other boys ran away screaming. Maybe they thought that I was going to kill Akuto.” I looked up to Yasume. “I wouldn’t have, you know. I didn’t even mean to hit him as hard as I did. I was just scared, that’s all.”
She nodded. “I believe you. But the villagers have grown furious. The only reason that have not tried to kill you is because they know that I will defend you. I fear that your time here is running short.” As if on cue, a large rock shattered through the window, and I scrambled to the side as the stone landed where I had been sitting with a heavy thud. Angry voices floated through the window, but there were so many that the words were near indecipherable. I could hear things like, “Monster!” and “Witch!” clearly. The rest was muddled. Yasume stood, sadness and outrage plain on her face. “Stay here. Try to get some sleep. I will not let anyone enter this hut.” She gave a comforting grin. “Do not worry. I can take care of things.” Then, she turned and left through the door, and the voices slowly began to die away as the light waned.
I did not sleep. I sat there, in the dark, all alone, resting against one wall, watching that entryway cagily. I listened to the voice in my head seethe and thunder about those boys. I listened to that voice tell me things that I didn’t wish to hear. I did not pay heed to my gut feelings when I thought that they sought only to harm me. I did not want to believe those feelings. I wanted to be able to trust them. I wanted to be able to call them friends…
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