InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Hidden Hanyou ❯ Five Years Ago And Night Visiters ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Tokyo, Japan- Five Years Earlier



Kagome Higurashi sat waiting on the bench in front of her preparatory school, waiting for her best friend Sango to come bounding down the steps. Kagome didn't much care that her friend kept her even as the sky grew dimmer with approaching clouds.

Nothing was waiting for her at home but hot ironing and darning, and any valid excuse to ditch that was fine by her. Kagome's mother would rather her daughter be late then allow her to trek home by herself, so Kagome knew that a bit of a delay was nothing to be distressed by. Since the shrine had been officially closed to worshipers and tourists the year before, Kagome had found her afternoons filled with more work than she had ever imagined.

What little sun remained peeped through the winter clouds and the warmth which emanated was absorbed into her long hair as it fell about her shoulders and back, framing her innocent face.

She thought herself to be pretty, and was in fact a striking girl, but from years spent mostly in the company of no one but her mother and elderly grandfather, Kagome found it difficult to interact with her peers in ways in which they considered customary, and it made her a bit of an outsider.

The few times she was asked to a picture show or study date, she had clammed up, unsure of how to react, leaving the boy shrugging his shoulders and moving on to a more willing participant.

Not that it bothered her- she rarely gave a second thought to the boys she attended school with.

Or the girls, for that matter.

She found it frustrating when participating in group projects and the thought of walking up to a cluster of girls was an anathema. That's why she was so thankful for Sango (who had just come back to live with her mother in Japan after spending the last four years living with her half-brother’s family in the states) for forcing her to open up and actually entertain the idea of having a friend who was flesh and blood, rather than leather or paper bound.

They had hit it off immediately. It was only after a few hours’ acquaintance the first day of last term that she followed Kagome back to her shrine. From that first meeting, Sango had forced her way into and created an intimate niche in Kagome's boring little routine of school, laundry work with her mother and the constant companionship of her books.

Sango taught her the art of starting a conversation, speaking to boys without sweating, and most significantly how to ignore the random teasing that stemmed from her occasional social awkwardness.





Still lost in thought, Kagome stood up to stretch, pausing as a lone crow cawed and flew overhead. She began shifting her book bag to another shoulder, ready to go in search of her friend, but stopped and turned at the sound of approaching voices. The breezy drafted caused her short uniform skirt to flutter in a flirty circle about her legging-clad thighs and she clamped her hands against her legs to flatten the material.



She saw him first.



His hair was too long, his body so- Kagome was at a loss for words…masculine? She felt a wrench in her stomach, a response which she would later come to recognize as lust. He was clean shaven, and his silver mane swayed behind him as he descended the school's steps. Though she knew that it was rude to let them come all the way to meet her, she stood- unwilling to move, waiting to greet her friend and this stranger. He raised an arm and swept his hand over the mass of glossy strands, and Kagome's eyes fell to where his fingers rested for the briefest of instants. She was momentarily taken aback by the two downy ears perched atop of his head- ears which proclaimed his hanyou status.



A trace of a smile touched her lips at the sight of this stranger.

Kagome did not follow the trend of her country, of handling hanyous like second-class citizens, with something akin to disgust. Not that there were many half breeds still in residence. Most had already left the country due to the tightening laws and restrictions being placed upon their liberties and rights. The soldiers that were stationed near downtown to enforce a midnight hanyou curfew attested to the newly elected government’s stance on those of mixed parentage.



In fact, her attention was captured and her heart raced a bit faster as she eyed this man, her friend nearly forgotten. The distance between them seemed enormous to her, as if they would never close the gap.

Sango pointed, and Kagome’s cheeks flamed as her friend's companion caught her in his sights and scanned her over, his eyes rising up to meet hers, searing into sockets, a battle between them, making her sigh from the heat emanating from within.

She felt so many things. She felt real. His brief concession of her presence rocked her nerves and sent her mind flying. What was this? she wondered, as another emotion- raw, yet fleeting anger-graced her facade as she watched Sango link arms with his.



“Kagome! He's here! Inuyasha is here!” Realization snapped at Kagome's jealously, curbing it and sending it purring back into the instinctual cavern from whence it sprung. How stupid she was! She recognized now the boy from the pictures her friend had shown her in a scrap-book; the black and white images downplaying the transcendent quality of the one before her. He was Sango's elder half-brother, nineteen to their respective fifteen and sixteen. Of course this handsome hanyou was Inuyasha. Sango often brought him up.



Kagome turned just in time to catch him smirking at what she knew was a response to a most indiscreet perusal of his form.



Caught in the act she was and still reeling from the physical reaction this man coaxed from her.



“Hello.”

“Hey.”

And so they met.

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Higurashi Shrine-1946



She ran to the door and without looking, unhinged the latch and stepped away, allowing the visitors entry into the darkened room. An ethereal figure of a man, tall and heaving, toppled onto the floor at her feet and an athletic girl of twenty one, her arms outstretched and laden with cloth bags and bundles, followed. The female immediately turned and soundlessly shut the door behind her and went to the window facing the street.

Ignoring the rolling and moaning man on the floor, Sango stood patiently at the window, as though awaiting a package or a letter of import. Even as the man's whimpers subsided into a quiet pant, his sister continued her vigil, her neck twisting to peer around corners while considering the back fences of the neighboring properties. This went on for a full minute, as Kagome stood frozen, her eyes flitting back and forth from hanyou brother to human sister, unsure of what to do, and scared of what would happen if the two late night marauders had been followed.



“He's been shot,” Sango turned to Kagome, her profile outlined by the moonlight. “Help me.”



Kagome bent over Inuyasha and with Sango's assistance helped the wounded man stand and the trio clumsily made their way to her bedroom in the middle of the house. They laid him on the floor and a thin bare rug, old but clean, became his only source of comfort from the hard wooden surface.

Grabbing a pair of scissors from her bureau, Kagome cut into his shirt and around the protruding arrow shaft. With impatience she rarely displayed, she tore the rest of the cloth and exposed the wound- a broken off stub of a glowing wooden arrow near the heart. It was bleeding steadily, the flow just beginning to crust at the edges.



Kagome jumped up and left the room, only to return a moment later with a sloshing pot of boiled water she kept on hand as a laundress. She set it next to him and turned to Sango, who clutched his blood streaked hand.

“Wash your hands if you want to help.” Sango reluctantly let go of her brother and trailed Kagome swiftly into the bathroom across the hall.

A few minutes later, both young women kneeled over the man who fidgeted in pain between them. Kagome doused the area of his wound with water and alcohol, and Sango followed with a clean fold of gauze.

Inuyasha trembled and licked his lips, looking into Kagome's eyes with a desperate wildness she had never encountered in another being. She wanted to fix him and take his pain away and embrace him as a mother would her child or a mistress her lover. Kagome shook such thoughts from her mind and slid a tin box from under her bed. She took out a massive bottle of herbs, a needle, a thick candle, and a wooden rosary. Taking a book of matches from her dress pocket, she lit the candle and placed the needle tip over the flame until it turned fairly black.



“Sango, go get me an apple” she quietly told her friend, while attempting to direct her shaking hand to wipe Inuyasha brow. Sango returned with a small fruit and a quizzical look.



“Shh. Bite on this,” Kagome’s lilting voice entreated, her attention focused on Inuyasha. "This is going to hurt andI don't want you to bite your lips or tongue.

She placed the apple in his mouth; his modest fangs grazed her skin and caused the hairs on her hand to stand on end. She kept herself smiling and tranquil as though they were in the process of baking a pie instead saving his life. Inuyasha quieted and clamped his full lips over the fleshy fruit, never taking his eyes from his rosy cheeked nurse. He wanted to assure her that he trusted her, but the pain was so great and he needed to find the strength to tell her about the wound in his leg before he passed out.

Kagome hadn't exactly reversed Purification herself nor had she seen one performed since the shrine had been operational under her mother and grandfather, now retired in California, and hoped she remembered the process. Removing the arrow was one thing, but the spell to be recited and the closing of the wound...she prayed to no one in particular to give her the strength and the miko powers of her ancestors. She placed the rosary around her neck, whispered the spell, grasped the arrow, and closed her eyes. A moment later, she was gripping air, as the cursed arrow had disappeared from her ministrations. Kagome let out a sound of relief and Sango dropped back onto the floor.

Inuyasha spit out the apple.

“Kago-”

“Shhh, Inu-”

“My leg” His eyes rolled back and his lids closed, his ashen face no longer creased in pain, but smooth and handsome, resembling the boy she knew so long ago.

Kagome looked over his body to his sister, and in concert, reached towards his lower body. His right leg twitched as they found the hole in the pant leg, ripped it wide, and uncovered a chunk of skin hanging from his thigh. The arrow had gone through, parting the flesh from his leg. The wound pulsed from the damage. The bleeding was no longer heavy, but regular and already drying rivulets were thick on route to his ankle.

“Oh, God,” Sango sobbed as Kagome held her hand above this thigh. A faint glow emanated from her palm as she recited the ancient Japanese invocation which would, if not close the wound, stop the curse of Purification from spreading. As the light faded, Kagome was piqued to discover the wound still crinkling the skin around it, attempting to purify and obliterate the hanyou.

“He was running, carrying me, Kagome. He wouldn't let me get rid of the bags. He told me they missed and that he was fine, but dammit! He just kept running…”

“It's just the muscle. I don't think they hit a vein,” Kagome assured her, though she was increasingly worried about his loss of blood. She placed her hand over the humming flesh, sprinkled more herbs, and recited her spell again.

After she was certain that she had reversed the Purification, she began the more physical task of sewing up his wounds. Though half demon, and having the moderate advantages of speed, strength, and slightly heightened smell, he was never the less still at the mercy of the purifying arrows the regime had employed against his kind. And being half human, he had the mortality and lifespan of a man, and the inability of his flesh to knit together after an attempted Purification.

At least in a timely fashion.

If she wanted to make sure the blood would not flow, Kagome would have to sew him together. And so she began.

His sturdy thigh was lightly covered in a fine, white hair and though he was gravely injured, Kagome was aware of his private area that lay so close to her quickly moving finger tips. She worked cautiously, though with skill, years of being a seamstress and laundress paying off as she stitched this broken man back together.

She worked at his leg while Sango looked desperately on, holding the compress to his chest.

Sango didn't know what would happen if she lost her brother; the link to the only man whom her mother had ever loved. The mother who had been shot through the chest with an arrow right in front of her for consorting with a demon and begetting a hanyou son. She shook the thought from her mind and tried for a more comforting deliberation.

Sango knew that her mother had cared for her own father, but Inu no Tashio, Inuyasha's father, had been her mother's soul mate. Losing him had caused her world to crumble, leaving her young son in a state of emotional distress and panic. Meeting Sango's father Hayato, two years later, had begun a sort of healing process. That she had become a specter of her former self, Sango never knew.

Sango was also grateful to Sesshomaru for taking in his younger half-brother, alleviating some of the burden from her mother. The older Inu-demon was stoic, but welcoming, and after her father died when she was ten, Sesshomaru helped pay for her to go to an exclusive school in the States. Sango moved back to Japan with her mother for high school, and met Kagome the first term she went back.

Sango studied her friend, watched as her even, little teeth chewed a corner of her lip in concentration.

After twenty minutes and a few extra stitches to tighten the skin, Kagome looked up at her best friend, her sister. “Sango, bring me his things.”

Sango sat up and walked cautiously through the silent house, her ears on alert for the sound of boots on pavement or of car doors slamming. Outside was as calm as she had left it, and she gathered the bags of belongings. When she had returned, Kagome emerged from the closet, having shifted boxes and clothing items, propping open the door with an old cane her grandfather had left behind.

“You need to help me move him, Sango. He can't be out here in the morning. Naraku might be stopping by to bring me my soap and groceries, and I can't risk him not being awake in time.”



The two girls spread out a sheet and shifted Inuyasha's legs carefully onto the cotton spread. Successful, they maneuvered his upper body, Kagome grasping his muscular shoulders as his sister lifted his torso to straighten him, both knowing that if the man before them had been at a proper weight, there would have been no chance to move him at all. They stood up and each took an edge of the sheet and began to pull him into the closet. They tried to be as careful as possible, but Inuyasha moaned at the shuffling, and it was nearly twenty- minutes before they had him resting on the pallet that Kagome had made up for him in the shrine's hidden room.

He was finally quiet, his cheeks pink, and Kagome worried he would have infection to fight off next. That thought had to be put aside, as she led Sango out and allowed the door to fall shut. The two friends linked arms, the somber faced girl steadying her distraught and hungry friend and led her to the kitchen. They washed their hands with cool water and soap and Kagome motioned for her friend to sit down. Kagome went to the ice box and proceeded to take from it an assortment of plates and a jug of milk. Sango ate everything that was set in front of her, relishing every bite, and continued until she felt too ill to continue. Kagome returned to the box and took for herself a bottle of Coke, relishing the coldness against her palm.

“We were walking down the alley about a mile away when we were stopped,” Sango began, unsolicited. “The officer asked for our identifications and Inuyasha made as though he was taking out his papers, but the guard was already drawing his bow. I suppose he could already tell we were fleeing from the bags that we had. Inuyasha punched him on the side of the head before he could get a good aim. It knocked the man out and we got the chance to run. Another soldier must have been inside one of the factory buildings and came running out and Inuyasha picked me up to run. Arrows were flying. We managed to turn the corner and lose them in the neighborhoods, but they had radioed another guard ahead of us and he was waiting. He shot once, and I knew it hit him, right above my head. The guy aimed again as we were running off, but I didn't know they hit him. You would never have been able to tell. He just kept running and jumped into a tree to hide. I was afraid they would bring out dogs or rouge demons to sniff us out. After a few minutes without a sound, we got out of the tree and went slowly from alley to alley, and thankfully no one was out.”

Kagome shook her head. “Anyone would have been too scared by the yelling and the Purification light to even look out their windows.”



“Miroku should be here soon, I promise, Kagome,” Sango wiped her mouth and brushed crumbs off of her blouse. She looked at Kagome for any sign of reluctance or fear, and found a weary girl, drained, but awake, the bottle of Coke now resting against her forehead to ward off the headache.

“If not, you can stay in the room with Inuyasha. Until we can figure something out. Do you have your passport? Are you sure he knows how to get here?”

“Yeah. We passed by just two days ago and I have everything in my purse. I just hope they don't have any traitor demons trying to scent out hanyous. I'm human, but Inuyasha's scent’ll be all over me. I just want to take a bath. Is that ok?” Kagome nodded. “I won’t get through the security at the airport looking like this. And those were my best clothes,” Sango smiled. She stood and began to unbutton her top, handing it to Kagome along with her skirt and stockings. Kagome held out a freshly laundered dress, a soft silken material, a deep blue, one of the few nice items she still had. She was loath to part with it, but she knew Sango would need to look the part if she were to escape the hanyou hating regime that had become law and order in Japan.

Not only the hanyous themselves but their family and friends were being targeted. Kagome stripped off her own dress and dumped the clothes in a wash basin with her other customer's articles, the blood separating from the fabric and dissolving in the suds.

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After washing up, Sango walked around the house to make sure that there were no traces of blood or anything at all amiss. She had been warned that her friend’s human admirer, Naraku, might be over the next day, and he was a soldier as well as a high ranking official in the government. Sango wasn't sure about her friend's actual feeling towards the man, but Naraku was how Kagome was able to eat regularly and have the luxury items needed to run her business.

Kagome came and stood beside her friend, dressed in a crisp white top and a long, lavender skirt. She placed a hand upon the other girl’s shoulder so as not to startle her. “He’ll be ok for now. He has a fever, but the wounds are no longer glowing with Purification or bleeding. I’ll take care of him. Sango, look at me. I promise. You are my best friend. My sister.”



Without turning around, Sango lifted her head. “I know. That's why I asked you. It's just been so long since we’ve seen one another. And despite all the letters, I was just unsure. He fought me on it. He tried to say that it would be selfish and cowardly of him to hide. He didn’t want to put you in danger either. But his little sister wore him down. I just want him to live, Kagome.”



“I know, Sango.” Somewhat angrily she added, “You told me he worked in the Opposition. He should have waited for you to leave before he started that shit. It put too much scrutiny on you.”

“Don't blame him, Kagome,” Sango turned, amused a little at one of her friend’s infrequent curses. “He did it to help me. I refused to leave my mother or Miroku until it was too late. Now my mom is gone and Miroku is taking me to Inuyasha's brother's home in Massachusetts. Whether or not he was active, he is still my hanyou brother. They would have come for me eventually. He was going to leave with me. His brother sent us the fake documentation and everything. Miroku got his and so did I, but Inuyasha's never came. I don't want to leave him, but I know he'll be safe with you.”

Kagome stayed quiet and Sango smoothed her dress. A knock on the door interrupted the girls’ soundless moment. Kagome walked slowly to the door, and looked out of the side window.



“Come in,” Kagome greeted politely as she opened the door.



“Thank you,” a short, yet good-looking young man walked through the door frame and into the sitting room.



“Miroku!” Sango threw herself at her fiancé and sobbed onto his shoulder.



“Where is Inuyasha?” he looked around for sign of his friend.



“He was hurt, Miroku. Wait! It's ok, Kagome healed him and reversed the Purification. He’s asleep in the shrine's hidden room. Kagome, would it be ok if Miroku and I said goodbye?”



“Of course. Just be careful, there’s not much room, and you have to watch his leg.”

The lady in blue led her man in black towards the room, and Kagome could hear the sounds of them entering through the hidden door. She sighed, and padded along after them.

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“Goodbye… Kagome… thank you,” the girl cried out between sobs on her friend's shoulder. “Please, don't let them find him. I know it's a lot to ask of you, but please, please don't let him die!”

Miroku grasped Sango's hand and picked up the suitcases, the first light of early morning filtering in through the curtains. Kagome took her by the shoulders, and kissed her cheek. Without saying anything else, she handed her a couple sandwiches and a bag with two bottles of Coke. She walked them to the door, Sango exiting first, her eyes narrow and red, and Miroku followed her, a curt nod to the girl whom his love placed so much faith in.



After shutting the door, Kagome looked around her, unsure of how to proceed. She washed the breakfast dishes, and straightened up the kitchen, and stalked to the back of the shrine where her laundry business was. She had three pickups today. And five for tomorrow, so she began her work, quickly pounding and wringing and drying, attaching the identification tags to the proper baskets, and doing all that she could to not think of the man occupying her home and her thoughts.



When all of her work was done and her orders for the next day ready to be ironed and folded, Kagome went to the kitchen and took a ceramic cup from the ice box. Glancing over to the kitchen wall nearest the hall, a clock proclaimed it to be 7:20 in the morning. Kagome marveled at how much had happened in such a small span of time. She poured its contents into a small pot and with a match, lit the sole working burner on the old gas stove top.

She stirred the broth methodically, deep in thought. NO. She refused to think of the past. She would not allow it. When the broth was at a soft boil, she added a little butter, and extinguished the small flame. She moved the broth from the pot to a red bowl, and grabbed a small wooden spoon from a drawer near the sink. Taking a small bottle of herbs from her pocket, she sprinkled lightly. This remedy would keep in asleep for a while yet. Filling up a glass of water, she closed the kitchen curtains and walked cautiously to her bedroom.

She set down the bowl and glass and propped the door open with the cane. I will never get used to this, she thought, as she shimmied her way through the opening, trying her best not to spill the hot liquid on her hands or the cold water down her front. Successful, she walked bent over to the sleeping hanyou who still tossed and turned in pain and discomfort. Kagome placed the bowl and glass on the crate next to his bed, trying to be silent, but noticed his soft ears twitching in response to the intrusive noise. He slurred a bit, his eyes opening into slits, bloodshot and rimmed with tears.

She sat down, careful to cross her legs, and scooted closer to hear his request. “Can I do anything for you, Inuyasha? I brought you some broth and water.” She would not tell him that she was going to medicate him into slumber-not yet at least. “You have to put something in your stomach. I don't want your fever to get worse.” Her voice was a little above a whisper, soft and pleasing, and his ears went flaccid and at ease in response to her soothing tone.

He mumbled again and tried to move his arm. He grimaced in pain and effort and set it back down on the pallet. Another mumble. It hurt so fucking bad, but he wanted to tell her what he required of her.

Kagome bent nearer to the hanyou's face, a light layer of sweat gleaming over his striking features, her ear closer and closer to his mouth to discern his needs.

“Stay.” He closed his eyes and seemed to fall immediately to sleep, clawed hand palm up, but no longer curled in pain and agony. As she watched, his face lost a little of the flush that had plagued him the entire time he was here, and he began to snore with even, unhindered breaths.



She sat by his little bed, watching his chest rise up and down, thankful that the fever appeared to be lifting. She was so exhausted, but knew sleep was not in the picture until he would take a few sips. Broth not forgotten, she gauged the time, and decided she would watch him and wake him in a half hour in order to feed him.

It would be about eight now, she thought to herself. If Naraku hadn’t come by now, she didn’t think he would come until nightfall, if at all. Standing up, but still a little bent at the waist, she began to pack and arrange his bags and items into the crates instead of leaving them in a jumbled mess upon the floor. It seemed to give the room more breathing space, though Kagome desperately wished for a window.

Head ached and hands shook from lack of sleep, but as she placed items here and there, listening to the slumbering sounds of her companion, her fatigued mind allowed itself to drift into a past that she had willed herself to ignore for the last five years.