InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Heart of a Thief ❯ Fighting Fate ( Chapter 5 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Disclaimer: I own nothing InuYasha-related and make no profit from this fic.

Chapter 5: Fighting Fate

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Summer's hold on the land was slowly slipping as the weeks passed by. The once lush, green valley was being slowly tinted with gold and red while the air held a new crispness in the morning and the scent of the impending winter. Kuromu was known as Onigumo to all but Shikaeru and Genkotsu, though Shikaeru was still the only to call him by his original name and even then only in private. Genkotsu hardly went as far to acknowledge he was there with anything more than a cold stare when they could not escape each other's presence, and when he was forced to speak of him, he referred to Kuromu as `Funuke.'

Kuromu, with Shikaeru's aid, had not yet gone with any of the scouting parties in search of goods and other items the clan needed but stayed only with the hunting parties that searched for the wild prey that roamed the lands surrounding the valley. While he had been forced to find a variety of methods that could be used to find food when he and his brother had to fend for themselves, he had never actually hunted before. It didn't take him too long to be able to use a bow, though his accuracy remained a weak point much to the astonishment to those who had taught him. They still couldn't figure out how he could have perfect form and technique yet still manage to hardly ever hit the target, let alone hit the center of it. He practiced as much as he could with the realization ringing in his mind that if he couldn't be an effective hunter, he'd be forced to start living up to his title as a thief. Even Danuko - an excellent archer in his own right, though he never participated in the hunts - tried to help Kuromu figure out the most effective method for him to use while trying to perfect his aim, but he still was no better. He had already done as much as he could to avoid that fate and Shikaeru had used almost all her favors in order to try to ensure that their efforts wouldn't be in vain, but as signs of the impending winter became a daily event, his ability to hunt became more critically examined.

“I'd care just a little less about your accuracy if it meant that you wouldn't be causing us to lose so many arrows,” one of the more seasoned hunters grumbled to Kuromu one especially nippy morning.

“I'm sorry,” Kuromu said as he felt a surge of blood coming to his face due to annoyance and embarrassment.

He picked up another arrow from a stand they shared on the small practice range that had been set up next to the river. The arrow's fletching was a dark brown that reminded him of dried blood. He notched the arrow and proceeded to draw back to bow string until the side of his hand touched his cheek. He stared down the long ways to the target and pictured the arrow sinking into the very center with the same deep thud that all the others could manage. He let the arrow fly and watched as it shot swiftly down the range but only managed to hit the top of the target and arc off into the trees and shrubbery beyond. “Oh, careful there boys, he fully nicked the target that time,” one of the hunters teased.

Kuromu clenched his jaw against the words of the others as he went and grabbed another arrow, his thoughts on the mantra he had created to remind himself of the alternative to being part of the hunting group. His fingers grasped around a tan-fletched arrow and he quickly returned to the line he shot from. He prepared the arrow for release and aimed at the target once again. “Watch yourself now, we'd hate for you to actually hit the target,” one of the hunters, a tall one with thin but surprisingly strong arm, taunted.

“Yes, that's right. There's no excuse for abuse against targets,” another piped up, smiling widely as Kuromu's brow furrowed from his frustration with not being able to fully concentrate on the shot.

He screamed at them to shut up in his mind, but released the arrow even as they continued to talk on. He had already turned and was going for another arrow without even seeing the outcome of his shot, knowing from the others' laughter that he'd lost them another arrow. He sent a glare to the small crowd that was forming to watch him fail so miserably to hit the target. They paid his anger no heed and continued to bless him with their taunts and jeers. He stepped up to the shooting line again, this time with an orange-fletched arrow. He tried to tune out all of what they were saying but it was no use. Another arrow was lost.

Something akin to a low growl escaped his throat and he simply glared down at the target. The large hand of one of the hunters clapped onto his shoulder as the hunter's laughter died down long enough for him to speak. “I've got a deal to make with you, kid. Get a bull's eye by the end of the week, with a witness to prove you're not just lying, and I'll make sure you get the finest bow the scouting parties can find,” he said, his voice still dripping with mirth. Kuromu just gave him a questioning look but the hunter only gave him a short laugh. “I'm not kidding you. Just make that bull's eye and the bow will be yours. By the way, what's your name again?”

“Onigumo,” Kuromu answered, still adjusting to the feel of the name on his tongue.

“Well, Onigumo, good luck with the bull's eye and a tip for you: come as early in the mornings as you can and you might be able to avoid an audience,” the hunter finished, a little of the laughter dying from his voice as he took on a more serious tone with his last statement.

“OK, thanks,” Kuromu said, still a bit wary about whether the hunter was giving him a real tip or if he was just setting him up to be pranked.

When the others had finally cleared out, he stood for a time just looking out at the target, focusing in on it as if it were a new enemy challenging him for a fight. Tomorrow, he decided, he'd come early and, while risking the possibility of the others giving him trouble, practice for as long as he could. Winter was coming, and he didn't want to be still seen as a handicap to his hunting party by then.

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Later on when he had met up with Shikaeru for lunch, his thoughts had finally shifted from his poor archery skills to the matter of Genkotsu. For the past few days, something had seemed a little off with him. Even given that Kuromu hardly ever saw him anyway, Genkotsu had all but disappeared from the public eye. But when he did see him, Genkotsu almost always had a strange mix of anxiety and smugness on his face. “Have you tried the chicken yet? It's really good,” Shikaeru asked after swallowing a mouthful of bread.

“Oh, um, not yet,” Kuromu answered, glancing from her to his untouched plate.

She gave him a disapproving look as he only pushed the food on his plate around a little with his fork while staring down at the table as if there were something truly captivating there. “You need to eat,” she told him firmly. “You've been like this for a while now and I'm afraid if you don't start getting several full meals a day into you, your health is going to start to suffer.”

He looked up, eyes pleading with her to just leaving him to his thoughts, but he was only met with her stern gaze. He sighed in defeated and began eating, having to admit that she was right, the chicken really was very good. “I was wondering,” he began as he took a break from eating, “if you could come out to the practice range with me tomorrow morning. It would have to be early but I need someone out there with me.”

“Won't the others be there though?” she asked, getting the feeling that more was going on than just him needing someone else out at the practice range.

“Well yeah, eventually, but I was trying to avoid them. That was why I was going to go there so early.”

“Hmmm, how early is this `early'? You archers are usually already out at the range before I even wake up in the morning so I'm getting a little worried with all this talk about going out there even earlier than that.”

“Only a little while before I'm usually out, I promise.”

She gave him a suspicious look. “Ok, I'll go there with you, but you're in charge of making sure I get woken up since I'm not just going to be able to wake up by myself at such an unholy hour.”

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His right hand clasped around the smooth wood of the bow and he absentmindedly stroked his thumb over the subtle lines of the grain as he grabbed one of the hunting quivers and a good number of arrows. The sun's light was barely even perceptible but he would be going out nonetheless. The frost-covered grass crunched lightly beneath his feet as he walked along the path, one that had become so familiar to him, that lead to the practice range. Shikaeru followed by his side silently, which he guessed was because she was still half asleep, and it seemed to take them almost no time at all to make it to the range. He mentioned to her that all he needed was to make a bull's eye and for her to be there to see it to prove to the others that he wasn't lying about it. She simply nodded before breaking into a lengthy yawn.

He pulled an arrow from the quiver and set it to the bowstring as he positioned his body in the correct stance, the pointer and middle fingers of his right hand coming to rest on the string a little ways above and below, respectively, the end of the arrow. There was that familiar, soft creak of the string as he pulled it back and he closed his left eye so his right could focus on the target. Darkness seemed to be trying to swallow up the world and hide target that he knew stood not too very far away from him. He scanned the darkness until he found the soft white outline of the target that seemed to glow dimly with the faint morning light. At the moment he let his fingers release the arrow, he heard the sound of a twig snapping echo through the still morning air.

He whipped around and saw a shadowy form within the trees behind Shikaeru. “What is it?” she asked lazily as she noticed his stare, still trying to pull herself fully away from sleep despite the chill of the morning air.

But he hardly could concentrate on what she was saying. Whether it was the sound of hoof beats or the sound of his pounding heart, he could not tell. He ran towards Shikaeru and pulled her back to stand behind him, despite the confused look she gave him and the sounds of her protests. He pulled an arrow from the quiver and held it in his hand as if it were a knife, ready to use it as a close-combat weapon if needed. A gentle wind rustled through the drying leaves of the trees and a few even took to the air as if anxious for the beginning of autumn. The shadow seemed to have shifted. He began to back away, ushering Shikaeru to follow suit, to try to get more out in the open of the area where the archers would stand during practice. “Kuromu, what's going on?” Shikaeru whispered anxiously.

“I don't-“ Kuromu started but was cut off when Shikaeru screamed.