InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Inevitable ❯ Cessation ( Chapter 18 )

Disclaimer: Still can't claim ownership.

 

Author's Note: Well, this is it folks! The last chapter, but don't worry, there's an epilogue. I'm both amazed and appalled that it took me this long to finish this bloody thing. But I am, if not wholly satisfied, relieved, and happy, that I've managed to finish it.

 

I'd like to thank everybody who has read Inevitable, whether they enjoyed it or not, and to especially thank all those who have followed it for the past fourteen months, right from the beginning.

 

Last, but not least, I would like to thank my awesome beta, Wendy, who helped me so much with this 'fic. If not for her, this little piece of fanfiction would not be what it is now.

 

 

Inevitable

 

Chapter 18

Cessation

 

 

We all make mistakes, but sometimes I wonder if I made too many.

 

It was a stupid thing to do, interfering. But, I was young, he was in trouble, and it looked as if there would be blood and death any way you looked at it. I didn't think that I would make things worse.

 

Inuyasha is not a very good swordsman.

 

He's strong, fast and agile, but he has no idea how to apply any of that to swordsmanship. Tessaiga is powerful because it is magical, and is meant for mass slaughter. But when it comes to real sword fighting, it is about as useless as its wielder.

 

Inuyasha was not losing but he wasn't winning either. I was standing with the crowd, freezing and terrified, while the onlookers watched in a curious fascination. Duels didn't usually attract such attention, but Inuyasha, a hanyou, had never taken part in any. He had always fascinated and frightened the villagers.

 

There was a scream in my throat, but it was refusing to come out. Ryota was obviously a well-trained swordsman, but even though he was fighting as inept a swordsman as Inuyasha, he could not match his opponents speed.

 

It was infuriating to watch them. I knew very well that Inuyasha could kill Ryota just about any time he liked, but why he continued to play this game with him both confused and scared me. I did not want him to kill Ryota, I'd seen enough of that sort of thing up to that point, but there, death was the solution.

 

Ryota's anger was not loud and obvious like Inuyasha's; the insults he'd uttered so vehemently earlier had been most unexpected and alarming. I had felt frozen in my place, knowing with a dreadful certainty that Kaede-obasan's words had been true. Ryota was more temperamental than most samurai I had happened across in the Sengoku Jidai, but his blatant cursing was something I had never expected to see. Samurai strived for peace and tranquility, and such outbursts would be considered shameful.

 

The tightening knot of fear in my gut rose up into my throat and made me gasp for air.

 

Even if Inuyasha killed Ryota, which I was sure he would, it would not simply end there. Attacking a samurai - a lord for that matter, if only a small one - would send him straight to prison, and then it would be the executioner. I was aware that Inuyasha could easily escape such a fate, but a life of exile he'd already lived, and something inside me, despite all that had happened, despite everything that had been said and done, did not wish for that to befall him.

 

“Stop!” The word was out of my mouth before I had even remembered thinking it. Such a stupid, stupid thing to say.

 

I ran from the crowd, my toes completely numb. If only I could make them stop, talk to Hiroshi-san - for Inuyasha had not killed him, I knew it. Hiroshi-san was my friend, and I'd been so sure - so hoping that I could make him, them, listen. Such false hopes, those were.

 

“Please, stop…” I begged, the two warriors momentarily paused out of astonishment. Ryota slowly turned his head, eying me with such obvious distaste that I had to stop myself from taking a step backward.

 

Instead, I walked forward, brave, foolish girl that I was. I was making a martyr out of myself and I didn't even realize it.

 

I had not gone far, nor had I needed to, but his swiftness surprised even Inuyasha.

 

The blade slid between my ribs with a sickening sound, and when Ryota pulled the sword from my body, I screamed, a searing pain ripping into my chest like nothing I had ever felt before. I crumpled instantly, clutching the wound and shuddering, feeling my blood run between my fingers. I was face down in my own blood, watching in terror as it pooled around me, my hands clutching at the robe, desperately trying to stop it, amazed at how fast it flowed from my body.

 

I could taste my in blood in my mouth, and coughing I turned my face to the side, trying to seize the very wound and close it, feeling my breath accelerate as I began to keen, dry sobs shaking my prone body. The unavoidable outcome of the situation was so unbelievable, so foreign to me that I frantically tried to deny the fact that I was going to die.

 

“I don't want to die. I don't want to die…” I was murmuring, only half conscious of the commotion going on around me. The chaos inside of me was so consuming that I did not notice it around me. Only when Ryota's head landed next to mine did I feel the hammer of comprehension hit me fully, and even though I was screaming, I couldn't hear myself.

 

“Mama, Mama -” I was saying, over and over, the blood seeping from my nose now, trailing red snot down my face. I felt delirious and could feel all reason and thought slipping away. I could barely breathe, and every breath brought more blood into my mouth, and I could feel myself drowning.

 

“No, no, n - no….Mama, Mama….” was all I could say and think, shivering uncontrollably as I felt a coldness grow in my extremities, the pain inside my body making everything scream and the world tilt. I wanted it to stop so badly, but I only had the strength to writhe and shudder, soaking myself in my salty blood.

 

The feel of strong hands turning me over made me cry out, and I was trying to curl up into a tiny ball, gripping my wet robe and crying, really crying, the warm tears running freely down my face. There was blood in my right eye and I couldn't open it, but through my left I could see the blurry face of Kaede-obasan.

 

I reached one hand toward her, crying so loudly and fumbling to get a hold of something, anything. I was too frightened and in too much pain to think about anything like dignity or shame. Maybe I was brave like people said, but I was only twenty and drowning in my own blood five hundred years too soon, and no matter how courageous and stupid I'd ever been in some silly little battle, I didn't want to die.

 

I wanted my mother.

 

“Mama, Mama…” I cried feverishly, my fingers trying to get a hold of Kaede-obasan's shirt, but her firm, warm grip enveloped mine, and I could hear her saying, “Shh, shh…”

 

I felt crazy and sane though it didn't seem to matter anymore, but all I wanted was my mother, with such a frenzied need that even Ryota's head next to mine didn't mean anything to me anymore - I couldn't even remember. All I could think about was the pain and my mother and air, but all that filled my lungs every time I gasped, every time I cried, every time I spoke, was blood.

 

The last thing I remember seeing, the last image of the Sengoku Jidai that I will never, ever forget, was the face of a man, a young man, with stark white hair, and soft ears, that I would so like to touch.