InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Half-Breed ❯ Chapter X ( Chapter 12 )

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

Half-Breed: Chapter X

I lay on my back, growling in my chest, thinking that I could scare away the stars in my vision. They slowly faded away, leaving a lingering dizzy feeling in my head, and I glared indignantly up at a purple and black sky. I struggled to sit up, and lurched to my feet, pausing in mid-rise with startled horror. Home, but so unlike it. The house was bathed in a ghostly purple mist, swirling in and out of the open shoji and shattered windows with an eerie whisper, carrying with it the rotten scent of death and shadows. The veranda was strewn with sable leaves, fallen from the black trees that hung over the roof like dark phantoms. The ground at my feet was littered with crushed ebony flowers, covered in layers of black, sticky sludge and… My breath strangled in my throat, and I took a reeling step backward. Blood.
The purple miasma drifted over the ground brushing past my legs with a haunting caress, and I choked on the thick, putrid air. Haze wrapped around my ankles, coiling up to my knees, my waits, around my neck like cold fingers, paralyzing me where I stood. I told my hands to move, willed my legs to walk, but they were frozen. ‘Move, damn it!’ my mind yelled. ‘Move…’ My mental shouting match was cut abruptly short when gray shadows began to emerge from the leaden forest in slow, soundless steps. If I had been able to move, that image would have stopped me in an instant. Demons.
They came toward me, each pace long and faraway, their mouths gaping with noiseless howls. I wanted to run, but my body resisted my commands. I wanted to scream, by my jaws had been fused shut. The demons came ever closer, lifting their clawed hands to me as though they were swimming through mud. Twenty feet away… ten feet… five… two… Fearful panic flooded through my veins like ice, and the silent demons were all at once upon me…

My ears hitched. [Wake up. There’s something in the thicket. Nine yards southwest. Wake up.] I cracked my eyes open against the pale gray light of early dawn. ‘Just a nightmare,’ I reassured myself inwardly. ‘It was just a nightmare.’ Such dreams would come to me every now and then, and though they were always different, they always seemed to end in the same explicit, terrifying way - painful, helpless death. But here I was, sitting on the same branch in the same tree that I had fallen asleep in.
I didn’t move as the thing came closer, inching almost silently through the underbrush, scratching at the ground… but it wasn’t silent enough. A hunting demon no doubt. I turned my eyes downward, focusing on the beast that had crept to the base of the tree I was settled in. A centipede demon. Looking for an easy meal. How disgustingly pathetic. I leapt into an aggressive crouch on the branch, directing a threatening growl down at my enemy, feeling the hairs at the base of neck stand on end with hostility, and the centipede looked up, hissing with annoyance that the element of surprise was gone.
The demon was up the tree and out upon the limb in a flash, rearing its long body as a threat. It paused for only a second, the silhouette of its pillar-like form casting a shadow over me as it sized me up, and in a sort of undulating motion, it swept toward me. There was a sting across the left side of my face, burning in a jagged line from my temple to the corner of my mouth. I touched my cheek, feeling damp blood welling underneath my fingertips.
The centipede recoiled off the branch, and lifted its body, waving its sword-like talons wildly. I took a step backward along the limb with practiced poise. Growling angrily through bared fangs, I drew back my arm, and threw it forward. My fist connected with the demon’s neck , just below its skull. It wavered, slashing at me as it tumbled from the branch, and crashed to the ground in a cloud of dust.
Blood was running along my jaw line as I dropped down from the tree into a guarded crouch. The centipede grappled to its many feet, glaring and hissing, my own defiant leer meeting its. I smirked tauntingly when I noticed the laceration on the demon’s neck turning an ugly green-black bruise. An eye for an eye, so to speak.
The centipede blinked its big black eyes in momentary puzzlement at my dauntless grin, and it shrieked with rage. With speed that you could hardly attribute to an insect, the demon had circled me with its lengthy form, rearing to attack. The centipede wound up its body, and its head shot out, rushing toward me with a scream. With a push of my legs, I was looking down on the demon from above as it struck the ground where I would have been, throwing a veil of dirt up around me. I closed one eye against the shower of dust, snarling with irritation. There was a heavy, hollow thud, and I drew in a sharp breath as I felt my ribs bend beneath the barreling pressure of the centipede’s tail. I was swatted away, and my back painfully slammed into the trunk of a sugi. I bared my teeth against the dull throbbing in my torso, willing it away, and I lifted my gaze to the demon. It wheeled around, catching sight of me, and it eagerly raced forward, its long body slithering across the ground. I lowered my eyebrows into a livid glare, my ears hitching, and I leapt upward into the branches above me.
The demon sped after me, hardly slowing as it spiraled up the tree, wailing. My ears laid back against my skull at the air-shattering screams, and I twisted my body around in mid-air, slashing out with my claws, sending a spray of greenish blood to the dirt as the centipede launched past me. I lightly landed to the ground, turning to face the demon. There were four freshly bleeding wounds cut into the left side of the centipede’s face, one slicing through one warping eye. I almost laughed. The demon thrashed its head from side to side in pain, whining a low, gurgling sound. With its left eye permanently closed, the centipede hissed at me, and I grinned, flexing my claws, daring that stupid insect to make my fucking day.
Dirt kicked up from my heels, I vaulted ahead, claws extended. I could hear the pounding of my feet against the ground with every footfall. The demon lifted its body as I neared. My ears pricked at a whisper of the air, and I hesitated, my face pulling into surprise… Damn. The centipede’s tail struck me, a burning pain ripped through my abdomen and chest. I hit the ground heavily, sliding and tumbling before coming to a halt, a cloud of dirt hanging around me. I sluggishly pushed myself to my knees, gritting my teeth and growling at the ache. I watched a puddle of crimson slowly begin to form in the dust, and I raised a hand tentatively to my side where I found that I had been run through. I looked at my bloodied fingers, feeling anger welling inside of me, and I clenched my fist as I struggled to my feet.
With a yell of fury, I dashed at the demon. I leapt into the air, looking down on the centipede’s battered, bloody face, and it reared up. Its tail lashed out at me, cutting through the air. Wheeling my body around, I was pulled higher, and the demon’s tail passed harmlessly beneath me. The confused centipede faltered, and I flew over its head, aiming my feet at the trunk of a tree. The soles of my feet collided with the rough bark, and I pushed away, hurtling toward the demon. I slashed out with my claws. “Iron Reeber Soul Stealer!”
The centipede shrieked in pain, thrashing and tossing and convulsing. I landed into a crouch, taking pride in the sight of the horribly gushing injuries sliced through the demon’s body. I could see the cording muscle working through the openings with every seizure. I could see the sallow gray of its gut as it began to spill out onto the ground. The centipede’s body was draped with green blood, pouring down its legs, leaving dark puddles in the dirt. Its head was lowered to me in submission, gracing me with a final whine of death as its carcass tore open, the dead remains lying on the forest floor before me as some sort of macabre offering, a declaration that I was the stronger.
I knew the thrill of battle was something that I would live for, and watching that demon die like the pathetic insect it was, instilled me with a sense of power. It had doled out its good hits before I kicked its sorry ass. I had received my fair share of the injuries, getting away with a wound to my stomach and a scratch on my face, but I had been the victor. First blood went to the demon…but last blood counts for more. I sniffed haughtily and threw my nose in the air, kicking dirt in the direction the corpse before turning and walking away, my hair swinging in union with my steps.

Seven years had come and gone like the turning of a page, and my memories from the past had grown hazy in the shadows of this new life. Most of those years were spent running until I was strong enough to fight the ones chasing me. Now, I wasn’t much more than a drifter. I traveled endlessly from one place to the next, never remaining too long in a single area before moving on again. Home was nowhere that I had been to, and in places that I could never return. So I was a wanderer, a vagrant always on the move. I tossed what was left of my old life away, into some godforsaken, leaf-congested stream to leave for some animal to chew on if they felt the urge. The Fire Rat kariginu, which I had distastefully stopped calling my mother’s, was my protection. Buried somewhere, in the deep recesses of my mind, it was my sanctuary, the personification of the shelter my mother gave to me, but I dared not to show it. I didn’t need to look to anyone for protection. It was shameful. And I was stronger than that.
But above all, I was luckier than most, or more pointedly, I was smarter than most. A half-demon had to be quick-witted and razor-sharp to be able to survive even a few days alone in the realms of the demons. Strength and speed came in a close second and third to intelligence. Hey, no problem. A lot of demons were slow on the uptake, mostly oni - nameless, classless, and goddamn ugly demons.
I’d like to say that life had gotten a whole lot better than what it had previously been. I was seven years older, seven years stronger, seven years faster, seven years wiser. That dog-eat-dog kind of attitude overrode my goodwill. Humans feared what I was, demons feared what I might become, but that didn’t necessarily mean that I got any respect. No, they still had their damned beliefs, and I still got that regular onslaught of profanity from both sides. As far as I was concerned, humans and demons alike could burn in hell and take all of their one-sided opinions with them.

I pressed a hand to the wound on my side in an attempt to reduce the blood flow as I stepped out into the open grassland just off the boundaries of the forest. That happened to be the one weakness of my kariginu. While it was impervious to slashing attacks and fire, it was defenseless against piercing assaults. The injury was far from a problem though. Soon it would become scabbed over with dried blood, and the pain would recede from a persistent, biting hurt to a dull, throbbing ache. It would healing quickly, complete in less than two days. Already, I could feel my blood toiling to repair the damage. I shrugged it off, glancing up to the stretch of meadow before me.
The sounds of the wind brushing over the grass, faraway birdsong, and the distant call of villagers reached my ears effortlessly across the prairie. The mild breeze softly tossed my silver hair, and brought the smells of rice fields, and the last of the blooming flowers of this autumn season. The meadow was surrounded on three sides by woodland. To the south were the distant rising plumes of smoke from a nearby town, and to the north, beyond the borders of the forest, were the far-off rocky ranges of Sesshomaru’s mountains, my Father’s mountains.
I hadn’t seen my older half-brother since over seven years ago. I sneered as the memory dredged up yet another foggy - but visible nonetheless - recollection.

“You’re stupid, Sesshomaru! I hate you!” I shouted angrily, clenching my fists until my claws dug into my palms, and I felt warm blood seep into my hands. I couldn’t remember what had started this fight. Sibling rivalry, Mother had called it. I think it was more than that. My face and hands were scraped, and the left arm of my juban was torn. My dignity was all that had really been wounded. And there was Sesshomaru, the look of calm and unequaled authority mocking my injured honor. The sigh of him as he stood across the room from me, all arrogance and pride, filled me with hot fury, and I yelled to him, “I’m gonna tell! I’m gonna tell Mother, and you’re gonna get in trouble!” Four years old - if all else fails, tell the mother.
“Will you?” Sesshomaru’s patience for my defiance and impulsiveness was uncanny.
I hesitated, shifting uncomfortably under his judging gaze. “Yeah.” It was more of a question than a statement.
“Are you thank weak, little brother,” Sesshomaru growled, “that you must look to a human for protection?”
Weak. The word exploded in my mind like a hundred fireworks bursting against a night sky, and it hit my core. “I’m not weak, you bastard!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, and I could almost see Sesshomaru wince. Of course, he could understand that I was only four years old, but he would have never guessed at how loud and potentially vile my four-year-old voice would be.
His open palm struck the side of my face. “Never bark at me again, little brother,” I heard him scold me, never losing his cool composure as I pitched backward, his voice distant, distorted, resounding across an endless, black nothingness. And quite suddenly, I became very aware of Mother’s favorite earthenware vase, the one with brilliant designs of tropical birds wheeling through weaves of vibrant treetops, and golden and red flowers against a sable backdrop - the one thing that remained of her own mother, who passed away three years before I was born. Funny how I was worried for the jomon instead of myself.
My back connected with the vase. It crashed to the tatami, and fragments of shattered porcelain went splaying across the floor in a fan of dancing colours. The sound echoed in my ears like a voice bouncing off of cavern walls, ringing inside of my head. The jomon lay in colourful shards all around. I crawled to my knees, my palms against the tatami. There was a bitter frown upon my face, and angry tears in my eyes. The left sleeve of my juban hung by no more than a few threads, torn and dangling at my elbow. And how I hated my brother as I watched him turn away - six feet of vainglory and a ridiculous fluffy boa. “You stupid jerk! I hate you! I wish you were dead!” But he was already out the shoji and gone. I stood there, shaking with outrage, glaring at the open shoji, tears falling from my eyes.
My mother dashed into the room, worry showing on her face as her ebony hair tumbled across her fearful eyes, and I looked up at her, my ears flattening against my head, my tear-stained face pulling away from the look of a defeated soldier to a child who has fallen and scraped his knees. She hesitated at the fusuma, seeing the splayed shards of porcelain across the floor, seeing how my juban was ragged…seeing the tears in my eyes. She came to me with motherly concern, carefully placing her bare feet on the jomon-scattered tatami. My mother knelt, setting her hands on either side of my face. “Inuyasha, are you alright? What happened?” Her voice was overflowing with protective consideration.
I looked down at my feet. “We were fighting.”
My mother was almost silent. “You’re not hurt, are you?” I shook my head. She searched my gaze for a moment, knowing me to lie about how much I was injured, and after she was thoroughly convinced that I was being honest, she glanced at the tatami, picking a piece of porcelain gently between her fingers. “It’s funny how I thought that I would miss this vase…”
“I’m sorry, Mother! It got broken, but it was an accident! I didn’t mean to, Mother! Please don’t be angry at me!” I cried, leaping into her arms. And she wasn’t. But it seemed so unbelievable at the time. She had loved that vase, like she loved her mother, like I loved her. Maybe I was too young to understand - she taught me how to let go. She gave me the strength to stand on my own. It was that subtle, hidden meaning that my young mind had failed to see.

I growled in my chest, pushing the troublesome memory away, back into the deepest corners of my mind to be lost, forgotten, replaced, just how it was meant to be. It had no place in my life anymore, no significance. It could do nothing more than remind me of past weakness, how frail I had truly been, and that was something that I would rather not recall. I was strong, and I would keep getting stronger. There would be not a damn thing that would make me thing otherwise.
My feet struck the somewhat marshy soil near a stretch of rice fields, and I watched as a couple of farmers glanced up at me, lowering their tools, lifting their hats. They stared, eyes wide with suspicion and mistrust, like I was some sort of sordid, grotesquely gnarled monster with a lust for blood, but as long as I did not come near they had no reason to fear. I snarled, baring my fangs and tensing my claws. What I would give to tear those looks right off of their stupid faces. Breaking into a showy run, I vaulted into the air, and leapt the remainder of the grassland, disappearing into the forest on the other side.
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