InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Impoverished Heir ❯ Darkness Fallen ( Chapter 32 )

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

Oh my effing god, it's been close to a year since an update. I am so sorry, I am a sorry, sorry individual. I've had this one three-fourths of the way typed until real life got in the way. That and summer. Summer always destroys me. I can't breathe, I can't rest, and the day goes on forever with night grasped only a few hours at a time.(I do my best writing at night, and I work night shifts, so go figure).
And the Real Life segment; namely in the fall, my fiancee and I went through the process of home loans, and house hunting, both real expeditions in their own right, and by doing them simultaneously while working put a strain on time for writing. Gladly we finally saw the end of our road and have purchased a home, where that is, is up to your imagination. It's lovely, and my first one, however, and a real turning point in my life as I push closer to (ahem ahem) 3-0.
I've had my notes written by hand, and scenes for later chapters. Along with my Yasha tale, I've been jotting down segments for my Fushigi Yuugi saga, and finally came over a personal fear of my own work and began a few short stories. Some are merely observations in my life, and others are dark fantasy. Like a true "multi-tasker" (or is that dsylexia?) I've had great ideas and events swarming through my mind and life and can only try to sort them to completion.

Finally thanks to the wondrous Inugrrrl, I've buckled down, and written by hand a winding down chapter synopsis for Impoverished heir. It won't be much longer in my opinion, but I have a few grounds to strike upon and finish in that meantime. This story meant so much to me in so many ways, and even before my Skye and I were dating, let alone living together, I remember working my stupid restaurant job, being poor, being contemplative yet alone, and telling her over the phone that "I had a great idea for an Inuyasha story." And this came about. It began with hopes for the future, and involuntarily, those wishes came true through the process of writing this. It really is as precious to me as a child.

WOW that was a paragraph! Sorry to get too serious, but I just want to take the time to say thank you to my lovely fiancee, my rock and equal. I couldn't have done this or anything else in the past 2 and a half years without you.

Thanks to the talented and naughty Inugrrrl for being a true freak in every sense of the literary word and a good friend too! You always inspire me to type down just alittle bit more and get off my lazy ass!

Thanks to all who have reviewed. You are all appreciated, and in haste and laziness to post this before it's another month, you'll be mentioned in the next chapter ^_^;;; Much apologies, yet thanks. A kind word always helps a writer, believe me.


Disclaimer: Penpaninu does not claim to own Inuyasha or any likenesses thereof. The story's plot belongs to me, however (grin). So don't sue! All my money's in the house.


Impoverished Heir chapter thirty-two
"Darkness Fallen"


Kagome stirred her coffee, thick black liquid in a nondescript white mug. Takahashi E. was engraved on the side, visible between her fingers. She leaned absently against the counter, in this break room on the floor everyone stayed at, in the tall building of Takahashi Enterprises. Her eyes gummed under the bright fluorescent lights.

Kagome yawned and scratched her shin with one bare foot. Her pajama leg hiked up in the process. Whereas she took a few minutes to get going, Inuyasha was already up and at 'em and down the hallway in the Room of Supreme Contemplation. He and Sango were in a pre-breakfast sparring session; their grunts and yells echoed back to her.

Kagome smiled softly as she heard Inuyasha roar in triumph; he must have thrown Sango and pinned her. She ran a hand through her touseled, black hair and pushed off.

"Those two are crazy," she murmured fondly. She was having a time of it this morning, wobbling sleepily down into the hallway. Her head was hurting badly and she didn't know if it was congested sinuses or the nerves of the dark occurences in her life as of late. Miroku was still asleep, so he was feeling the pain as well. Kagome wondered what was transpiring as she paused in the doorway of the Room of Supreme Contemplation.

Sango and Inuyasha stood across from each other, their hands poised in anticipation. The two were dressed down simply in white gi pants and gray tanktops. Their feet were bare and already reddening in bruises. Kagome surmised that they had been at it for awhile from the way they were breathing. Their hands were empty of blades and weapons and held up as they stood in different stances, their eyes searching for footholds.

As Kagome watched, Inuyasha roared in masculine terror and charged at his friend. Sango widened her stance and swung her leg behind her and then straight up. Inuyasha flinched back, missing her foot in the face by an inch, then grabbed her ankle. He swung with all his might, Sango half-catching the mat. She fell the right way, and had her hand around his knee. Using the gravity of his throw, she pulled him to the ground. Inuyasha howled, and then laughed. Sango slapped his chest, knocking him full on his ass, and jumped to her feet, one bare foot on his stomach.

"You give?" she asked proudly. Inuyasha looked up her leg, his stomach pushing up and down. Then he slapped his palm on the mat, his brows lowered over his partially golden eyes.

"I always give to my bestest friends," he grinned. Sango pushed off his tummy and crossed her ankle over her knee. Inuyasha somer-saulted backwards over his head, his grey ponytail flying. He knelt up and then jumped to his feet.

"I had you and you know it," Sango retorted. Kagome yawned, blinking hard, and turned to the shuffling heading her way as Inuyasha gave back a verbal tirade to his friend.

"Ha! You wish! I'm even stronger than I was in school..."

Another sip and Kagome looked over the top of her mug. She didn't jump when her eyes focused on a blurry Miroku. He looked as exhausted as she felt.

"Is there any of that left?" he slurred, pointing to her mug. Kagome yawned widely and took another sip.

"Course; in the break room. Join me?" she asked. Miroku nodded and the two shuffled along like old retirees. Kagome looked in the cabinets and located another mug engraved with Takahashi Enterprises. Miroku gratefully accepted the mug from her and held steady while Kagome poured.

"My head still hurts, but it's good, right?" Kagome yawned. Her head felt like to split wide open. Miroku nodded, his red-rimmed eyes gleaming.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. I feel like the life's been sucked out of me."

Kagome nodded. "I'm still trying to get going and I can't. What's wrong with us? Why do I feel so ill? Inuyasha's okay."

Miroku smiled, hearing Sango arguing loudly with Inuyasha. "Sango, too. They're not trained in the shrine like we were. I think we're more in tune with what's going on out there."

"I feel so ill. Is this what Naraku's doing to the Bright Plains?"

Miroku nodded. "I called my dad a few hours ago. He's not doing so hot either, but he's been in the temple all morning. The blackness hasn't affected that badly so far out, but it's still cause for concern."

"I hope Shippou and his family are okay," Kagome fretted. "His clan protects the Bright Plains. I hope they aren't out in the thick of all THIS."

"This is like something out of a nightmare," Miroku said. He pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers and closed his red-rimmed eyes.

"We know there is more to the world and it is dark and terrible. If only I could wake up and know it was a dream..." Kagome said.

"That or get my head to stop feeling like it'll explode," Miroku said wryly. He shook his wrist; his beads clacked loudly. "We'll just have to soldier on."

"Our lovelies sure are ahead of us there," Kagome sighed. She wanted to exercise, prepare, do anything but suffere the jagged edge of a spiritual migraine. She hiked up one pajama pantleg with a barefoot; scratched her shin with painted toenails. "Miroku... do you think our families are alright?"

Miroku blinked, his attention having been momentarily on his coffee. Kagome had made a strong batch. He licked his lip, and set his mouth in a firm line. "Sango's dad could crush a man with his bare hands. And her mother's not exactly the maiden in distress type either. They'll be fine. My dad may be old, but there's something about the shrine, Kagome."

"That sense of peace?" Kagome asked. Crime seemed to never ascend the many steps up to her family's property. Miroku nodded.

"Nothing bad seemed to happen there. Sure, any family argues, but nothing bad could come in. We never had to worry about our shrine patrons, and we never had a break-in. Kagome, I think whatever holy power we're near protects our shrines."

"I've seen stranger," Kagome offered. Her mind went over Sesshomaru's drastic bodily changes.

"Well, whatever it is..."

"Oh my god, did you see it??" a troubled alto voice rang out shrilly. Inuyasha gave a cry of derision far off.

"Dammit, Kagura, don't sneak up on us like that! Where the hell did you come from, anyway??" he barked.

"Don't tell me you haven't seen it! It's right out there!" Kagura snapped back.

Miroku and Kagome locked eyes and set their mugs on the counter. Coffee slopped over as they ran out of the breakroom and down the hall. They came into the Room of Supreme Contemplation to see Kagura and Inuyasha at each other's noses. Sango shrugged at them.

"What's going on?" Kagome asked smoothly. She was hoping her voice would calm Inuyasha's ire and it did. He flung his ponytail over his shoulder, but almost whapped Kagura in the face with it.

"This crazy woman is always showin' up at weird times, an' I'm real sick of it!" Inuyasha complained.

"Why don't you turn your head 90 degrees, and see what's bothering me this time?" Kagura snapped.

Sango beat him to it and her voice was enough to bring a chill to everyone. "Uhm.... guys... look."

She stepped closer to the wall of windows, her feet unsteady. Everyone felt the air knocked out of their lungs as they saw the newest trick for the day.

It was enough to have everything seen before beat.

There was no sun. Their wristwatches would say that the hour was past eight o clock am, long after sunrise would have happened. The sun itself was nowhere to be seen, a darker circle where it HAD been etched into the clouds. Blackness misted over all of Tokyo, blanketing the city from view. It was hard to make out the black mist itself without a source of light, but if one focused enough, they could see swirls of movement as if everything outside moved at a stagnant pace through pockets of time kept wrong.

Long pausing silence as the group listened to each other's breathing before Kagome asked what everybody desperately wanted to know.

"Where did the sun go?"

Inuyasha touched her waist; she sounded as vulnerable as a child.

"I don't know. It looks like someone ate it," he suggested.

"That wouldn't be far of a stretch," Kagura's tone was dark.

"What are we going to do? We're going to fight someone who can do THAT?" Sango's voice trembled.

Miroku clacked his beads together. "We must have faith. We just can't let him win."

"That bastard...." Kagura cursed. "I should have killed him when I had the chance."

Inuyasha whirled to face her. "You mean you were that CLOSE, you had had a chance, and you didn't stop him??"

Kagura snapped her fan open and waved it angrily. "Don't pull the high and mighty with ME, Takahashi. I tried to test his limits and believe me, I didnt find any, or at least any that I could get a foothold in. So I had to go carefully to save myself."

She clacked the fan shut, irate. "Sesshomaru tested his limits as well, and blackness slammed out of him and harmed thousands. It's not so easy."

Inuyasha turned his head to the hallway. "Has Sessho SEEN this? He should get his ass out of bed and join us."

Why should HE get to relax when fear was holding all of them captive?

"I think Myoga's got a handle on that," Kagura said wryly. Kagome and Inuyasha looked to see a round shape barrel past the doorway with the speed of an Olympic sprinter. Inuyasha blinked hard.

"Will wonders never cease," he muttered. "Sorry bout the interruption, Sango. Looks like we'll have to spare a rematch."

"You got it," Sango said firmly, trying to mask the ball of fear in her belly.

Myoga dashed hard down the hallways of their high sanctuary in Takahashi Enterprises, checking on all of his charges. After a peep into the dojo and knowing Kagura had things well in hand, he continued along at his breakneck speed to the guest apartments.

Myoga poked into the communal spa, found Kouga and Ayame. They were clad in a pair of towels that barely hid the necessities. "Ookami-sans, something has happened. Kouga, be ready, I'm sure your father will be calling."

Kouga nodded, looking up under a flop of bangs. His eyes gleamed with golden irises above his cheek bandages. "The air felt different today. Don't worry, we'll be ready," he said.

Ayame sat across from him, her hands on his raw fingers. They were unbandaged and open to the hot air. A few lines of gauze ran around his bare chest and shoulders, but other than that, he looked well on the road to recovery.

"Myoga-san, thank Sesshomaru-san for us. The Takahashi hospitality is appreciated," Ayame smiled, her cheeks dimpling. Myoga's mind derailed over to his other most precious charge and almost panicked to maternal mode. He reigned himself in and exited the sauna.

"Of course... er... excuse me..."

Kouga lounged back as Myoga tore off again, his legs spread. His towel barely covered his lap. "He sure moves fast for an old man," he commented.

Ayame's golden eyes glinted. "He sure isn't what he seems."

"Touche."

Myoga dashed down two hallways, curved a right, a left, passed a wall of guest apartment doors. He came to a stop at the one he knew Master Sesshomaru had taken up in with Lady Rin. His jumbled, staticy mind didn't fall on diplomacy or even deigned to consider an announcing knock. He unlocked the suite and jogged in. Through the living room, past the kitchenette, right into the bedroom....

Soft sighs finally invaded Myoga's rigid sense of duty, and the need to assure himself that his charge was safe. Soft sighs and tangled limbs moving across messy sheets. Myoga's eyes settled on Sesshomaru's pale legs laying flat on the mattress, and before he could stop, made out the detail of Rin's smooth legs scissored on either side of his waist, hiding him from view. Her rear flexed beneath her loose, black hair, pert globes of white moving back and down onto the junction of Sesshomaru's thighs.

Myoga's face flushed as Rin half turned, her lovely breasts open to his gaze. The nipples were erect, flushed pink as his face....

"I'm sorry! Master Sesshomaru, I didn't mean..." Myoga stammered. Rin opened her red lips to speak but Sesshomaru shifted under her. She forgot to speak in anything but a moan.

"Later.... Myoga... Rin... look at me..." Sesshomaru said, his voice purring. His one hand held her waist, letting her move forward again, trusting Myoga to back out. He knew his employee wasn't a pervert.

Myoga backed out so fast, he cracked the doorjam with his hip. Sesshomaru hadn't seen it, then. He must not have known what was happening. The old servant moved out to the hallway, where he planned to wait for his young master.

Myoga had lived a far longer life than most, and had seen the most beautiful scenes and the darkest atrocities. Why did walking in on Rin's bare body unnerve him so?

'It must be the perfection of her beauty... she is perfect. And I certainly didn't expect to see it,' Myoga thought. His master certainly had grown. He couldn't stay the ten year old in his mind forever.


****



Inside, Sesshomaru pushed hard to meet his end. His golden eyes watched her face for any signs of discomfort. No, her fear had been abated with careful touch and rising passion. She was eager to finish what had been briefly interrupted.

Her soft cries made his ears twitch and Sesshomaru rumbled back. Rin's hands scraped over his pectorals, feeling the vibrations emanating from him. Her gaze was a canvas of adoring passion. The way she thrust on top of his pushes and gave herself to him and this moment was not disturbed by being caught in the act, so to speak. Why should she be embarrassed to be seen? Myoga had walked in on her, accidentally she hoped.

Rin was't thinking about this very clearly; she was so close and all she wanted to do was come. Sesshomaru's pecs grew rigid from almost holding his breath as he spiraled to the fine tip of the end in sight.

"Rin," he crooned, and it was a mantra of his being. Rin slammed up and down onto him, tightening his balls in raw excitement. She crested, cried out and cradled his tight need. Sesshomaru lifted his hips off the mattress, driving harder, merciless until he erupted. Traces of his milky seed coated down Rin's thighs as she clenched him close.

Sesshomaru watched, spellbound, as Rin made the moment stretch to eternity. Her insides flexed, clenching into his softening member. Rin stretched forward to lay across his chest and belly. He was certainly big enough.

Sesshomaru's sole hand ran along her sweaty back. He cupped the nape of her neck tenderly. Damp locks of hair sifted through his claws.

"Rin..." he rumbled. She peeped up over the wall of his chest almost shyly.

"I don't think I'm scared anymore, Sessh," she said quietly. Her cheeks were flushed pink with their exertions.

"Good." Sesshomaru trailed one finger along her cheek. Why they had awakened, of course they had looked out the window and seen what Naraku had done. Rin had been hysterical, crying with fear. Sesshomaru only intended to hold her, but the moment took a more pleasant lurch. Rin had wanted, needed, to be assured everything was going to be alright.

The only way they found quickest was to spark life in the moment of darkness.

Sesshomaru held her close on him, his arm twitching. He wouldn't let evil touch her again with it's black hand.



****



It was as black as pitch outside.

Sakura jogged along the sidewalk, making sure to keep in sight of the streetlamps. They were burning bravely, as if it were night instead of day, but they shouldn't even have been on to begin with. Her pink wristwatch read 9:15 am, and it should have been blazing bright outside. Pedestrians should have been holding up newspapers to block the rays from their eyes.

Where WAS the sun, anyway? The other passersbys darted from lit location to the next, on their way to school, to work, to the corner store. Sakura huddled in her coat, her face buried in Hakudoshi's white scarf. He didn't even know she was out, so in apology, she had left a scrap of stationary with hearts drawn across the bottom. She had really snatched up his scarf as a last second thought. He was sleeping too deeply the past few days, so she may not even be missed.

Two men cursed loudly nearby and ambled past on the fringes of the light post she was standing under. Sakura cringed, drawing back instinctively from them. They were angry, possibly drunk? Both were yelling past the point of obscenity and Sakura felt her skin crawl. Pure hatred oozed from the vulgar words.

Up ahead was a corner convience store. Sakura's fingers fisted in her coat pocket around a slim sheathe. She pushed through the door. A bell clanged as she stopped; assessed her situation.

A few other customers were picking through bread and food in a hurry. The cashier looked tense; he'd fly through the roof at a single touch. Sakura fisted her wallet through her coat; it was stashed in her front jeans pocket, her coat layering it from thievery. Someone would have to tear her coat off her to get at it.

Sakura grabbed a basket and tore down the nearest aisle. Cans of vegetables and boxes of pasta and ramen met her gaze. Sakura grabbed a packet of the noddles, remembering it as a cheap and vital staple. Hakudoshi would need strength. She picked out cereal at a rushed glance, a pint of milk. She was halfway to the register when something snagged her attention.

Basic first aid necessities, bandaids, gauze, peroxide. Small white boxes with the universal red cross. Sakura's mind darted to her companion's shoulder. The raw stitches; the slope of the stump. It was really low maintenance supplies to treat such a severe wound. But Sakura selected antibacterial wipes, bandages, ointment and gauze with care. Every little bit against infection would help.

"...and be careful going home!" the cashier tersely addressed a stooped old lady. She bowed and rushed out of the door into the yawning darkness. Sakura piled her items onto the counter and waited. The cashier's face was unshaven. His large hands shook along with his chubby jowels.

"T-that'll be 15,000 yen," he stammered. Sakura fished out her pink, plastic wallet. She forked over the bills quickly and the cashier seemed to shrink back from her. Onigumo Sakura didn't understand why until she turned to look.

A tall, gangly man wearing a haggard business suit stood in her way, his feet spread in a menacing stance. His glasses glinted light from the overhead fixture, making it hard to see his eyes. His smile was a predatory mockery. Sakura chilled to the bone.

"Hold it right there, girly," the Suit barked when she made to grab her bags. The cashier tensed. One large hand disappeared underneath the counter.... Sakura hoped he had something to protect himself with because she was going to make a break for it.

"Scuse me, buh-bye," Sakura said to the air beside him and rushed for the door. The Suit stepped past the lines of etiquette and hauled her up with one arm. Sakura grunted and beat him in the side with her bags.

"Let go! What's your problem??" she demanded. The man's fist clenched her arm. Sakura screamed as she felt the tension of a future break.

"Trying to run, you can't run! Didn't anyone teach you to respect your elders??" the man cursed. He raised a hand to slap Sakura... she cringed down, her head bent.

"Hey, get out of here! You better drop her!" the cashier yelled. Luckily chivalry existed in the tiny, poorly-lit store, because he was rushing out from behind his counter with a long object in his hand. Sakura silently praised baseball and all its equipment makers when she registered the bat extended at her attacker.

The Suit snarled and aimed a savage kick at the cashier. The portly man went down, the bat still in his hand. Sakura kept her head ducked as the Suit renewed his attention at her and tore the front of her coat open. The coat yielded its buttons but not her secrets, for as he reached again to tear at her shirt, Sakura brought her knife out of its sheathe, and stabbed upward.

"Waaaaaaah!" the Suit screamed as the sharp edge filleted his hand. Blood spurted out quickly onto the freshly mopped floor. Dark acrid metal overlaid with bleach.

Sakura shoved away and collected up her plastic bags. Knife still in hand, she tore out of the shop. Bat out of hell didn't even begin to describe her jerky speed. The meaty sound of a bat slamming into flesh tore at her eardrums as she rang the bells heavily with the door's opening swing. Sakura knew the cashier was okay then, and ran to the streetlamp's dotted safety.

The run back to Hakudoshi's room was fast. Sakura ducked into the old building, her heart pounding with relief that no one else was in the lobby. Hakudoshi had a few friends in the city so instead of a hotel, they were holed up in a tiny studio apartment under said friend's name. Sakura didn't know how honest their friendship was, but it was safe, and the guy's wife came over often with new bandages and sheets. Her no-nonsense attitude assured her if nothing else did.

Sakura fished the key from a string around her neck and clicked the tumblers back. She came inside more calmly and after relocking her safety, settled against the door.

Hakudoshi was still asleep in the bed. The sheets were pulled back from a bare, pale torso, his sole arm extended above his head to allieviate the throbbing of his missing limb. Striped boxers covered his waist and thighs, the sheets tangled around his white legs.

Sakura's eyes grew sad as she took in the pale man. His left shoulder was wrapped tightly, an odd ball-shape instead of a long, pale arm. His neck was unbound, the three black gashes open to her thoughtful gaze. The Kitsune Shippou had cut him with three claws, but Naraku had poured taint into the wounds, marking him forever.

The black gashes defied all medical logic, but Sakura knew there were worse things her adoptive father was capable of. Long limbs extending from his torso, reaching...

Sakura set the bags down and toed her shoes off. She set her torn coat with regret onto the back of one of the kitchen chairs. She padded over to the bed. Hakudoshi did not wake. His pale chest moved up and down with his sonic breathing.

Sakura sat at the edge of the mattress and laid her hand over his knee. "Hakudoshi, wake up."

Hakudoshi, luckily, woke easily. He blinked sleepily, then his eyelids snapped open.

"What is it?" he breathed, rising to a sitting position. Sakura smiled sadly.

"It's just me. I'm back."

Hakudoshi leaned forward as pain lanced through his stump. He clutched the sheet with his sole hand and grimaced. "I thought I told you not to leave this place. Your father is probably hunting us both," he said.

Sakura blushed, ducked her head. "I had to get more food, and I got you some more bandages. I can take care of myself out there," she retorted.

Hakudoshi climbed off the bed and moved to the adjoining kitchen. "Only eighteen a few days and you think you know everything," he sighed. "Listen, girl, your dad ain't no joke. You know he's a monster, LITERALLY. I took you with me and so we're both in deep shit. Just don't get us caught!"

Sakura would have once backed off, would have bowed her head, apologized. Been silent to the aggressor. But she had changed. She had cut a man who had tried to force himself on her. So she instead stalked forward and got in his face.

"Why don't you look at the knife you gave me," she snapped. "I'm not that weak anymore."

Hakudoshi looked at her cross-eyed and laughed ruefully. He sank down into one of the chairs, his knees spread. "So you aren't! You really cut someone?"

"I told you I could watch myself," the woman retorted. She began to strip the sheets off the bed. They held Hakudoshi's musky scent. The man in question flipped a plastic bag up with his toes, noticed the medical supplies.

"You still aren't going to play nurse," Hakudoshi fingered the edge of his bandage, fear setting his features for an instant. "Just let it heal."

Sakura bent over to get the last corner of the sheets. Hakudoshi looked up, noticed the curve of her ass through her hip-hugging jeans. His cock twitched against the fabric of his boxers.

"I want to look at it again! You can't just leave the same bandage on it... And we need to get those stitches taken out sometime." Sakura bent back up and moved a lock of hair out of her eyes. She turned and caught the fading evidence of her man's arousal. He always walled himself up, even more so that they were alone.

Especially now that they were alone.

"What happened to your shirt?" Hakudoshi pointed out. Sakura looked down, noticed buttons missing above the curve of her cleavage.

"Torn. Why, does it bother you?"

Hakudoshi flushed red. It was true that Hakudoshi had not tried to get intimate with her even though they shared the same room.

Sakura had only known Naraku's touch, and expected Hakudoshi to take her as he saw fit. She wouldn't have minded if he did. But his careful isolation of passion made her frustrated. The past few days, she had tried to seduce his arousal, and feel his rushing passion. She was inexperienced... she had only known dark hands and longed for another man's touch to soothe her spirit. The stem of rising heat she felt between her thighs should be explored by him and he wasn't taking her hints.

"Well, don't go walking around like that. Get another shirt," he urged. Sakura tossed the sheets into a basket and reached for the clothes donated by the buddy's wife.

"You like this one?" she asked glibely, stripping her blouse without shame. Hakudoshi's eyes focused on the globes of her bra-clad breasts, the smooth, flat tummy. The hint of one nipple pushed against the satin....

"Uhm... yeah," Hakudoshi breathed. He could take a deep breath now that the t-shirt had been pulled past her navel. It was far too large. "It's great."

"You think?" Sakura looked down. 'Born to Rock' was printed in sketchy, red letters across her breasts. Hakudoshi nodded and tried to make himself relax. The bulge beneath his boxers wouldn't let him. Sakura's eyes met his and went deliberately down. Her cheeks flushed.

"Uhm," Hakudoshi tried to swallow, so he could say something. Anything. He should have tried to get dressed when she woke him.

Sakura moved closer to him, her face flushed. She looked like she was planning something and when she got to her knees, he was damned if he was right. His cock stretched harder against the lap of his shorts. He sighed. He could see over the slope of Sakura's back to her round, demi-clad cheeks.

"Sakura, stop. You don't have to do this," he said. His arousal stiff, and the only thought making him stop was the thought that she had done this with Naraku.

Sakura had peeled the waistband of his boxers back and was kissing his belly when his pale hand rested on her cheek and turned her face up.

"What?" she asked when he pulled her to stand. Hakudoshi pulled her forward by the nape of her neck. He breathed into her mouth and Sakura opened her lips for his tongue. She swooned into the kiss and only then would he let her strip his shorts low. His cock stood straight out against her and Sakura pushed closer.

Hakudoshi's platinum hair fell against his cheeks as he nibbled her neck. His hand slowly opened her jeans and slid around to the small of her back. He squeezed her ass and pressed her close.

"Sakura," he said hoarsely.

"Don't be afraid... I belong to you now," she whispered. It wasn't the right thing to say, but damned if Hakudoshi was going to stop now.

"Don't give me that act. Be with me. Want me. Don't act like you have to," he snapped. His penis stood straight against her belly. Sakura reached low, tenderly slid her fingertips around the base and down to his balls. They were damp with the perspiration of possibility.

Hakudoshi groaned as her grip tightened. "I want to... I want it so bad. For once.... I want it," she breathed. She was lightheaded, her blood pumping hot. Hakudoshi moved her to sit on the edge of the bed and let her kick off her jeans. The loud t-shirt came off with it. He tugged her bikini-cut panties low, spread her knees.

Sakura planted them high, gripped midair until his cock pushed against her and he was instead with one, hard shove. He breathed loudly, helplessly and moved back slowly. Watching her pussy eat him up to the hilt and seep back out, wet and slick, was ambrosia. His balls hardened impossibly tight.

Sakura's knees moved inward, gripped his skinny hips tightly. Even eighteen, she was far younger than him, and her moans turned him on. Soon he had Sakura on her back and was on top of her, pushing past the healing pain of his wound. Sakura let him press her into the mattress, cried out.

They were both well on their way.



****



Akihito was praying. While being Emperor meant a day of meetings and studies, he always found time to fulfill his inherited duties as Head Shinto Priest of Japan. So for an hour or two a day he would pray for the well-being of his country.

He was troubled, however. Memories of childhood kept springing up ever since his meeting with Onigumo-san and they were troubling recollections indeed. He had been a small boy during the second World War and his father's foray into attack and domination. He hadn't understood everything going on at the time, and indeed no one really ever would but his honored father, may the kami hold him in peace.

The silver-haired man opened his eyes behind his pressed palms. The image of one memory kept pressing against his psyche and he paused, trying to grasp its meaning. He was short again, no higher than the doorknobs in the western-styled bedrooms. He had pushed open a door and peered in. The back of his honorable father was present to his wide eyes. He was kneeling down as Akihito was now. Hirohito's head was bowed to his chest, however, his shoulders sunken with unimaged grief. And despair....

Akihito remembered his childish curiousity then, and how it turned to a stabbing pang of guilt and fear. His father, esteemed Emperor-sama, had not only been praying.

He had been crying.

"Lords of my land, oh honored Ancestors, I pray, forgive me for what I've done," Hirohito had whispered, his voice weak with pain. Akihito as a child had faltered, and turned to run.

This scene was not for him. But his father had raised his head, knowing his presence behind him. And Akihito had to come when his father crooked a hand and called.

"Eldest Son. Come here."

Akihito had obeyed, the spartan room enormous to his tiny height.

"Father... why are you crying?" he had asked with all the earnest curiousity of the small child he had been. His father's dark eyes still watered with held-back tears.

"An Emperor does not cry," the Emperor said with tears on his cheeks. "He must always do his duty and he must be willing to do whatever it takes for the land."

Akihito remembered fear in asking what he had asked at the very next moment. "Are you sad about the meeting with the Krauts, Father?"

Hirohito had crooked a mustachioed lip in amused consternation. "You must never call our allies by that slang, my son. Herr Hitler-san has promised victory and we will have it. No matter what the cost..."

And then Akihito knew what his Father had done, the agonized steps he had made from the Ise Shrine. A long wrapped object clasped in his shaking fingers....

"It's about the Holy Sword, isn't it, Father?" Akihito's tiny heart panged with hurt. To give so holy a relic away, just like that! "WHY?...."

His father had barked a command for silence, then. "You are too young to understand. Too young to know the responsibility!"

His tiny shoulders had sunk under his father's rebuke and he lowered his head in a bow.

"I'm sorry, Father...."

The elder Akihito blinked his eyes and they crinkled deeply at the corners. His head suddenly bowed lower than his father's had been and his exhausted eyes sank closed with his weary task. Despite the fine suits he wore each day, despite the low bows even the most modern of his population gave him and the respect his dignitaries, local and foreign, displayed to him, there was always the underlining responsibility of his task, his inherited life's duty.

And he had handed the Beads and the Mirror away to a man's use, that he wasn't sure would be for the good of his land.... Akihito frowned. He had trusted Onigumo Naraku in the past. His company had prospered and helped Japan's economy to flourish as well as the other big names of Tokyo. He had been ever trustworthy, loyal.. or was it all a facade?

Had he doomed Japan's spiritual heritage and completed what his father had started so long ago?

"May the kami have mercy on me," Akihito murmured. His pressed his palms together and and leaned his brow against them.



****


"Come on!" a bent man called. His red hair was peppered with silver and pulled back into a sloppy knot at the base of his skull. Shippou hacked at a line of bamboo with his short sword and advanced forward. Nabiki stalked at his side, along with several of their kin. They were all dressed in an array of greens and browns, their vests lined with tan fur, camoflaging them appropriately.

That Nabiki was out worried Shippou to no end. She had barely time to heal up and she was clearly pushing herself; but she wouldn't listen to reason. She also wouldn't accept any help from him, either.

Nabiki always was a go-getter and her preformance certainly had elevated her to the attention of their Elders. But she really needed to take a break.

"I could used someone at the point with Satsu!" the Elder snapped. Nabiki rushed past Shippou's side and towards the youth.

"I got it, sir!" she called. She and Satsu shared a wide grin and dashed off as one unit. Shippou kept pace with the Elder, his eyes open to the obstacles. The green of Nabiki's leggings bounced in his peripheral vision...

"Shippou!" his Elder snapped in his ear. "To your duty!"

Shippou blinked and all he focused on were Onigumo's men. "Yes, sir!"

The Bright Plains were awash in dots of grey and black through the seeping mist. The dots of grey were Onigumo's ningen associates and assassins. The black; creatures found normally in scrollwork, lined with ink. Oni roamed freely, their mouths agape in long-toothed grotesqueries of smiles. Their fists knuckled the grass.

Satsu and Nabiki darted around the craggy forms easily. Large hands grabbed low for them; but they were already out of reach. Shippou put an arm around his elder charge and darted with him around the mountainous oni.

"At least the Ookami haven't let you get soft!" the old Kitsune grinned. Shippou held up his thumb in the affirmative gesture.

"Never, sir!"

"Nabiki-san, hold up!" Satsu called ahead. Nabiki crouched to her knees, balanced forward on her palms. She tensed then all but seemed to vanish on the spot. A rain of bullets kicked up grass and earth where she had been standing.

Shippou's gut turned to ice until he heard her curse lowly from a copse of small bushes nearby. Satsu appeared almost out of midair next to her and both beat it as the human commandos in grey trained their weapons to try and find them.

"We can't break the line, Shippou," the Elder groaned. "They are too many."

Shippou could see the truth of it. The oni were horrible enough, but Onigumo's associates armed with guns completed the impossibility. They would need a larger force to come close; a large force with guns.

"We have to fall back, sir," Shippou urged. The Elder nodded and gave a sharp whistle to the wind. Every sharp Kitsune ear caught it and darts of red, green, and brown made a blurring retreat back from their holy protectorate. Shippou didn't relax until he saw Nabiki running nearby, the faithful Satsu on her heels. A glance over his shoulder made his heart freeze.

So far away, at the mouth of the Holy Cave at the Foot of Fuji-sama was a tall figure in black. Inky blackness choked the stone and earth and Shippou could see it sifting thorugh the mist they swam through. They all ran for what felt like miles, their lungs pumping hard against the cold air.

At a safe location in a small community on the outskirts of Tokyo, several cars with ningen partners waiting. One of the human men, a tall, lanky youth with dyed blond hair, jumped and pointed.

Immediately, the men and women slid into the driver seats of the company cars. Engines were started up, doors slammed open or closed. Shippou guided his Elder into the backseat of an SUV, and threw the door shut. He ran and dove into the car Nabiki was climbing into. Satsu gave a cry of protest as Shippou crawled over him to get to Nabiki. He shut up when Shippou kissed her thoroughly.

"How 'bout that, Red?" Nabiki said with a tone of her normal ease. Shippou shook his head.

"I think it's going to get pretty blood, 'Biki."

"Yippee, another battle. Now, would you get up off me?? You're killing my legs!" Satsu complained.

The cars careened down the empty, mist-ridden streets.



****



Kanna's dark eyes had been staring, unblinking, for an hour now. Naraku shivered, despite himself. Her eyes sat as dark as two stones of obsidian in her head. Those emotionless eyes sank deep in the rippling layers of the Mirror. It had once belonged to an Emperor's line, but long before that, it had been grasped by partial humans, quarter humans, half humans, to celestial hands that were of a goddess fallen to Earth from her parent's heavenly joining....

The iron of the Mirror, folded and folded upon itself in the very beginning was of crude craftsmanship yet. But the surface of the looking glass was as pure as snow and clear as a lake's reflection.

Folded iron, forged metal from rocks eons old....

....as old as the obsidian of her eyes....

"Kanna," Naraku's voice rang out. Kanna did not move. She did not ever show a trace of any of her thoughts; her deep eyes only flickered over to Onigumo Naraku. In the soul-eating glance of her stare, Naraku made out the faintest trace of SOMETHING.

Derision. Not many an employee acted bellegerient without suffering the consequences. But Kanna was not quite human, this he knew. While he had control over her, he did not own her loyalty.

And both of them knew it.

"Yes." It was not a question.

Naraku swallowed. The healed welt left by Kagura bobbed uncomfortably behind his collar. "Have you prepared your item for the Takahashi's? Have you done as I asked," he said.

Kanna's thin shoulders shrugged. Naraku stared at her white blouse and wondered why he had entrusted his heart to her. He thought she would be the better choice. Hakudoshi had proved far less loyal. But maybe the blustering fool would have been the best in the long run.

He, at least, was human.

He was probably enjoying his adoptive daughter's body as well. The traitor.

"Yes. You have begun the way. I will complete it," Kanna whispered. Naraku nodded.

"Good. Good! Continue on," he urged, trying to sound in charge. Kanna's eyes flicked back to his. She nodded. His putrid heart burned her flesh. it was impure and dark; as new as he was. A human overstepping his bounds, presumptuous to take what he had not been given.

He did not orginally own the power he had, like she did. Hakudoshi knew the price of overstepping the boundaries.... he had paid a bodily fee. That brash, simple human. Kanna felt her chest ache with a twinge of something other.

She did not know it, but it was envy.

Hakudoshi had found a way to get out, and she was... what was the word, glad? And she wished she could have joined him. The businessman's long, platinum hair flashed in her mind; his wide grin and flashing eyes. She had seen those eyes turn to Naraku's adopted daughter with an easy fire..... and she knew this was Desire.


She wondered if the two of them were together. She knew it would be the emotion colored Happiness if this were so. This was too simple a thought for her ancient mind to grasp, and yet too complex to understand. Her kind was not good with matters of love and emotion.

Kanna exhaled, and felt Naraku's heart turn over in her breast. It hurt, and made her feel nauseous. She would not suffer this indignity any longer than she had. The Mirror shimmered, rippled silver. Kanna saw dirt stacked upon earth and the corner of her mouth curved up slightly.

And this was a smile. She knew this one.



End for Now

As promised, the end will be coming soon. I haven't forgotten! I promise. This one was fun to write, especially the Kanna part surprisingly. Leafing through my giant Mythology book with many, many pictures helps, as well as looking at my sweetie smile. She loves playing with the new fireplace and building fires. She already lit mine...

Hakudoshi was more fun than I'd thought. He's this dog I had to throw a bone to. And why the seeping darkness? It seems to mesh with the Akira manga and end of FF1X. That and I like to think and write of impossible mytho themes. Neil Gaiman is a huge influence to this one as well and I've been reading his short stories. He is one of my favorite writers and everytime I read him, I have to WRITE! So he's a godsend to my creativity.

Gotta put my bookcases up! And sort my book and manga collection :P

Until the next one! And please tell me what you think. Like it? Hate it? Send a review! You can bitch at me for my irregular updates, that's fine too.

Most Sincerely yours,
Pen Rose 1/14/09
the first update in 09!! hopefully one of the last...