InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Kiss of Life ❯ Chapter 1

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

Kagome was on fire. If you had told her that such a small creature was capable of such powerful poison, she would not have believed. That this was happening to her was also pretty much unbelievable.

*********

Stopped at noonday for a break, Kagome had ventured to the small stream to refill their water bottles. Kneeling at the spongy edge, intent on her task, Kagome never saw or felt the mole youkai stalking her. By then it was too late. Before she knew what was happening, it had laid her shoulder open a good 4 inches, as well as several other parallel cuts at the same time.

Kagome had not even screamed, too shocked to react, at first. Indeed, all she managed was to stumble back, away from the hissing creature before her. She did not have time to regain her feet, before the youkai was on her again. This time, in her attempt to escape, she tripped, and went down in the soft mud. The fall caused her to very narrowly avoid the beasts claws as it was going for her eyes.

Finally getting a proper look at the creature, Kagome quickly realized two things. One: that it was not going to back off and two; that she was beginning to hurt - badly. The wound was flowing blood, drenching her top, and running down her arm in ghastly rivulets.

Desperate, Kagome twisted, trying to get her feet under her in order to run. But as she bore down on the wounded shoulder, fire and agony shot through her entire body, rendering her vision spotty and her mind fragmented.

Certain she was about to have her throat slit, she opened her mouth to scream, and……didn’t. In a flurry of red and silver, he was there, all claws and teeth and seething, roaring rage.

*********

InuYasha, having remained behind at the temporary campsite, had not sensed any danger and had been lounging against a fir tree, enjoying the shade. Just what had alerted him that Kagome was in danger, he wasn’t sure, but something caused his head to swivel, ears to perk up, and his nose to go into overdrive. Shippou was on his lap, nattering on about something, but all his attention was focused on the narrow trail leading to the stream.
Had the wind been in the right direction, he would have heard her gasp, and her subsequent struggles. He would have smelt the mole youkai as well, as it stalked her through the weeds.

It was not scent or sound that made InuYasha’s head turn, but a sure and undeniable certainty that something was wrong. The next moment the wind shifted, and his concern was realized. He smelled Youkai, and blood - her blood.

He did not remember moving, did not hear Shippou’s startled squeak as he tumbled onto the ground. Every fiber of his being was concentrated on the source of the smells coming from the stream.

What the hell had happened?

Bursting from the tree line, he saw the story at a glance. Water bottles overturned and forgotten, one muddy loafer wedged lonely in the mud. Kagome was scrambling backwards, several yards away, trying to call up her power to fight off the now furious mole youkai who tracked her.

The sight of her there, crumpled in the muck, one shoe missing, and the hissing, red eyed beast almost upon her, galvanized him into action. But it was the sight of her blood, covering her uniform, and running down her arm that sent him over the edge.
He was not aware of the snarling roar that came from him, was not conscious of the decision to forgo the tessuiga in favor of his claws. He knew only blind fury, consuming rage that this creature dared - dared to attack her. One great leap and he was upon them.

The mole youkai, so intent on his victim, so incensed at her perceived invasion of his territory, never heard the warning roar, never saw the red death until it was too late.
He turned at the last minute, claws still raised against the miko, when the overpowering youki washed over him. He saw red firerat, and silver hair, but the last things he knew were raging golden eyes, and the final wash of crimson, as his blood sprayed the air.

Kagome, still huddled on the bank and looked on, speechless. InuYasha, having decapitated the beast, crouched over its body, a vicious growl still vibrating the air. Swinging his head to her, she was pinned by the savage, primal look in his eyes.
A moment, and then he had her, keeping her upright as she finally gave in to the agonizing burn of her shoulder. She barely heard his gruff inquiry, was scarcely aware of the arrival of her friends, armed and ready for combat. The pain took her away.

*********
Sango and Miroku, arriving at the scene, went immediately into rescue/repair mode.
Sango ordered the frantic weeping kit to bring the first aid pack, while quickly scanning the area for further danger. Miroku also was on high alert, but for a different reason.
Kagome’s blood stained the ground. She herself was covered in it, from shoulder to hip, and with her movement, her skirt was soaked as well. It had to stop, or the situation would get even worse. What kept the monk from approaching her, though, was the heavy, dangerous swirl of youki in the air - Inu youki.

Their hanyou may not have transformed, but he was righteously pissed, and dangerous as hell. Holding Kagome up, right arm about her waist, he was growling, a low, continuous rumble that raised the hair on Miroku’s neck. Best to go slowly, and quietly, he thought.

“InuYasha, how deep is the wound?” Miroku said, though he knew it had to be bad, from the red that stained them both.

InuYasha was unaware of the mole blood on his hands, but he did not miss a drop of Kagome’s, as it saturated her, him and the damp earth beneath them. The scent of poison was ugly in his nose.

Dammit, she can’t fight that off.

Knowing that she needed help, right away, InuYasha moved, gathering her in his arms, wounded side out, and turned back to the road.

Brushing past the anxious taijiya, InuYasha ignored their questions, as well as the panicked attempts of the kit to give him the first aid pack.

“The last village, now.” And he was gone.

********

Kagome was burning. Blood boiling, she was sure she was dying. What else could come of such pain? Who knew that such a small creature could do such damage? The mole could not have been more than 10 pounds, 15 at the most. It was scarcely larger than Shippou. Yet the wound he had inflicted throbbed, stung, and felt as though a thousand red hot needles were being driven into it.

Poison, she thought. That thing poisoned me.

How bad it was, if there was an antidote, Kagome could not form thought to ask. She was vaguely aware of moving, of cool air on her skin, though it did nothing to quell the burning. She was sure her skin was peeling off, so intense was the pain. InuYasha said nothing, deathly silent as he flew toward the village they had only just left. Had it really been only a few hours? The day had been sunny, moods bright, jokes flowing. The elders had sent them away with a full pack of food, utterly grateful for their help the day before in eradicating the shard-infected bear that plagued them.

They had managed to extract the shard without killing the beast, an almost unheard of occurrence for their group - though this was due mainly to the miko’s insistence of the creatures’ base innocence. InuYasha had not wanted to listen, only to retrieve the shard, but, at the critical moment, when he had been sure there was no other choice, the bear had swerved, leaving the village. They had followed, and with Kagome’s help, had subdued the bear enough to pluck out the tainted shard. Once freed from the evil, the bear reverted back to its normal, shy self, wishing only to be left alone, free in the forest.
InuYasha had let it go, uncertain how it had come across the shard in the first place, reluctantly.

The subduing, by Kagome’s newfound power, had drained her, and they had spent the night in the village with warm food and soft beds their reward. Leaving the next day, after a full breakfast, they had the undying gratitude of the villagers, and were hailed as heroes.

And now they were returning, and InuYasha could only hope their gratitude was genuine.
If they refused Kagome aid, she would most likely die. The poison, although from a lesser youkai, was strong, and she was not powerful enough to fight it off.

Damn that bear, she’s so drained she’s weak as a kitten.

That draining also explained why she had not sensed the mole, when she went to the stream.

They’d better not refuse, the hanyou thought, growl rising.

Kagome dying was not acceptable. It was not going to happen, period. He would decimate the entire village if he had to, but they would help.

Reaching the village center, his miko limp in his arms, he began screaming for the healer.

**********

Sango and Miroku arrived, borne by Kirara, just as the summoned healer arrived.
The taijiya had to restrain the kit, desperate to reach his foster mother.
Now was not the time to interfere, she knew, and the kit would only enrage the inu-hanyou further. Miroku at her back, she hastily followed InuYasha, up the stairs of the headman’s house, down the covered breezeway, around a corner, a little further, before stopping at an open set of shoji.

“Lay her here, quickly. What has befallen her?” The healer moved as she spoke, plucking jars and pouches from their resting places, setting the kettle over the fire to heat.
Sango was impressed, and thought that Kagome would be also. This was a well equipped healing room. Shelves lines 3 walls, packed with herbs and infusions. A well padded futon lay to one side, near the window and doors, for added light. A table stood off center, mortar and pestle still as they had been left, something half crushed in the bowl.
Another set of shoji stood across from the door, no doubt leading to recovery rooms, all within easy reach of the healers’ main domain.

InuYasha lay Kagome down gently, but did not let her go, keeping hold of her hand, still growling low in his throat.

It fell to Miroku to tell the tale, what he knew of it, the type of youkai, and method of attack. Shippou, mute and shaking, could barely find his voice.
“Can you help her?” Shippou asked.

Speaking over the ensuing snarl that followed this, as InuYasha dared her to refuse, the healer could only be honest.

“I believe so, little kitsune, but we shall soon see.” The healer said.

Having set a mixed herb concoction to steep, she now knelt at the miko’s side.
The blood had finally slowed, but still welled obscenely from the wound, like a living creature. She reached for the soaked cloth.

“I need to examine her. You’ll need to leave the room.”

The response was immediate. The hanyou moved, so fast no one saw, and was crouched over the wounded girl before they could draw breath.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He said.
The healer, eyebrows in her hairline, tried to steady her pounding heart. Realizing the danger, she tried to appeal to his sense of modesty, of honor.

“I must undress her, to treat the wound. It is not proper-” the healer started to say.

“I don’t give a rats ass what’s proper, I’m. Not. Going. Anywhere.” Said InuYasha adamantly.
This punctuated by a baring of fangs and flexing of razor sharp claws against the floor, either side of the miko.

Sango, assessing the situation, interjected, before things really went to hell.

“Houshi, take Shippou outside with you,” Sango said. “We need more room. He needs to stay with her, healer, he’s her protector. I’ll help you, what can I do?”

The wise woman, catching the warning in the slayer’s eyes, capitulated.

“Remove her clothing, and let’s get the wound clean.” The healer replied.

Sango nodded and took her place on Kagome’s wounded side. She was greeted scarcely better than the healer. InuYasha eyed her warily, instinct warring within him. That his miko needed help, he did not doubt. But the scent of her blood, the poison, and the varied herbs in the room, coupled with the brusqueness of the wise woman, set him on edge. He fought not to snatch her up and flee.

“It will be okay, InuYasha. You know I won’t hurt her.” Sango tried to calm him, using her best, soothing tone.

“Keh.” was all she got, but the hanyou backed off, growl subsiding. Sango reached for the edge of the bloody shirt. “Lift her, and I’ll pull this off.”

But InuYasha had a different idea. Using his claws he simply sliced the material off, wincing as it stuck in the congealing blood around the wound. The lacy bra was easier, the strap having been cut in the attack.

Acting quickly, they bathed the wound, cleaning the area as best they could. The healer passed them clean cloths, soaked in steaming water. What they found, beneath the blood, did not look good.

The main wound, some four and a half inches long, was bracketed by three other scratches, shallower than the middle, but still raw and oozing. The fifth gash, made by the moles ‘thumb’ was slightly beneath her arm, on the side of her breast.

InuYasha ignored Kagome’s half naked state, pushing the image of her skin, and the weight and feel of her breast in his hand, into a far corner of his mind. She was burning up, the poison fighting to invade every cell, break her down, and kill her. He almost whined at the fear that he felt. That she should come so far, fight so hard, only to fall prey to a damn mole youkai, was unbearable. If this healer could not fix her…..ruthlessly, he quashed the thought. Drained or not, poisoned or not, she was a fighter, and she would not be done in so easily. He knew it. - prayed for it.

Don’t you leave me, little wench.

*********

Kagome, floating in a sea of flaming acid, knew nothing but her own agony. There was no thought outside of the pain. She could not remain in such a state, however, and she knew it. If she did not fight her way to a clearer conscious, she would drown in the burning and be lost.

Struggling to pull her thoughts together, she reached deep for something, anything, outside the pain. For some time, she could not tell how long, she got nothing, having to constantly battle the fiery waves crashing inside her. Then, somehow, an image of red and silver came to her; glowing golden eyes; the scent of wind and woods; wild things all. - InuYasha. And just like that, she came to.

Jolting violently on the pallet, she became aware of light, blinding and painful, and the roar of voices over her. She knew only that she was in a strange place, flat on her back, and naked - or nearly so. Also she knew that strange hands were upon her, and something warm and wet, and the stinging of herbs, adding to the burn.

InuYasha had been both startled and relieved at her sudden awakening. He rejoiced at the fluttery attempts to fight them off. Movement meant life, meant strength, and he gloried in it.

Clasping her arms gently, he restrained her, so that the women could continue their ministrations. Kagome did not respond well to this however, and fought harder.
Realizing that she would exhaust herself if he continued and desperate for a way to soothe her, he stopped the cleansing. Ignoring the baffled looks given him by both the healer and taijiya, he carefully gathered the miko in his arms. Holding her to him, still and contained, he began to thrum to her, the vibrations from his chest seeping into her, trying to reach her beyond her pain, to let her know he was there. She wasn’t alone.

She felt him. All around, warm and secure. Safe. He was there, and no further harm would come to her. She ignored the hands, the fear, and concentrated solely on the delicious feel of him wrapped all about her. The sound of his growl beat steady in her blood, warring with the pain. She drifted.

InuYasha was brought out of his reverie by the sound of the healer.

“I’m going to need to stitch this wound, hanyou.”

He only watched her with his eerie yellow eyes.

“She may resist, but you must keep her still. Do you understand?”

Narrowing his gaze, he gave a short, sharp nod, never ceasing his low deep growl.
He had felt Kagome respond, easing in his arms, sinking into him. It had brought a savage male satisfaction to his blood. He held her as the wise woman stitched, watching each move, tracking her all the while. When it was done, and the wounds covered with an herb poultice, to draw the poison, he felt himself relax, just slightly. The doctoring was done, now for the healing.

Sango and the woman bustled about, cleaning up. The hanyou and miko were left alone, InuYasha refusing to set her down. So they remained, his back against the wall, Kagome in his arms, and the tessuiga on the floor at his side, within easy reach. Sango stepped outside the shoji, greeting and reassuring the frantic kit that his foster mother was stable.

“Here, Shippou, go and fetch more water, hmmm? We’ll need it later, when we change the bandages.”

Said kitsune, eager to help, and realizing he would not be allowed into the healing room, set off, bucket clanging.

“How is she, really?” The monk’s voice was tight with strain.

Sango met the houshi’s eyes, seeing the worry there, the understanding that things were very serious.

“She’s unconscious. The wound needed stitching, and we got some tea down her, but she’s got a bad fever. I think things will get worse before they get better.”

Miroku nodded. He had feared as much, the blood telling its terrible tale. But this was Kagome, and she was nothing if not stubborn. Tramping about, day in and day out, with a half wild, surly hanyou, she had to be. She was a fighter, and with InuYasha nearby, she would fight all the harder. Sango headed back in shortly thereafter, the returned bucket full of water and splashing. Shippou set himself up right against the shoji, waiting for news.

*********

Passing on the news to the headman, who had come at the ruckus, and the group that had gathered, the monk realized that once again, she had done it. With her vibrant smile, infectious laugh, and general good nature, Kagome had once again won over a crowd.
Heck, she was already known far and wide, both as the keeper of the Shikon no Tama, and as the strangely dressed miko who was always smiling, always willing to help.
There were few villages that had not heard of her, at least on the traders’ roads, and her reputation most always got them a good room and warm food.

Miroku reflected on her talents, both visible and not, as he watched them disperse.
She had a soothing aura, a calming soul that drew people to her. She could sit with you, quiet and companionable, and before you knew it, you spilled your guts. She made you want to open up, to share yourself. And she so often took your pain, and doubts, and fears, and gave back her own brand of hope and determination. He had seen it happen. Had heard of it as well - had experienced it, firsthand.

Her fans were legion; himself, Shippou, Kouga, Akitoki Hojo, Jeninji, and various and sundry lords, samurai, and plain people. Not to even mention a certain viciously protective Inu-hanyou, he thought wryly. Sighing, he too, settled himself against the doors, reluctant to leave somehow, drawn to be near her. They waited.

********

Three days. Three days, and she had yet to fully awaken. The fever had her firmly in its thrall, and it was making the hanyou crazy. Nothing they tried did any good, not cool sponge baths, fever tea, or even the futuristic medicines of her time. Kagome remained in a twilight world, alternately shivering and sweating, never still.

It was taking its toll on her, InuYasha could see. Already she had lost weight, her already slender frame going frail, her skin translucent. For the thousandth time, he cursed the distance to the well, knowing that the trip would weaken her further, if not kill her outright. He was stuck, out of options, and he hated it.

The healer was at a loss. The poison, though strong, should have dissipated, but instead it clung, tenacious, refusing to be vanquished. The situation was growing volatile. She feared for her village, and her life, if the girl did not survive. That the hanyou was attached to her was obvious. He never left her side, save to relieve himself, and when with her, he never took his hands off her, always touching her some way. He had rumbled to her until his voice was hoarse, sleeping only in short bursts, waking at her slightest sound, her barest move. Oh yes, should the miko die, this hanyou would lose it, and heaven help any who got in his way.

Her friends had visited sporadically, talking in hushed tones to her, worry clear in their eyes. She was important to them all, the glue that held them together. Shippou had snuggled as close as the hanyou would allow, patting her calf gently with his tiny paws, voice choked with tears as he begged her to get better. None of them stayed long, InuYasha would not allow it. The further she fell into the fever, the more he desired isolation, the less he tolerated their presence.

On the fourth day, things came to a head. InuYasha jerked awake from a half sleep to the realization that Kagome’s breathing was labored, her pulse thready. Panic flared within him, desperation seized his mind. Calling her name frantically, he was not aware of the running footsteps, the anxious voices. She was dying! Terror consumed him, ate away his last bit of civility, leaving him only raw, animal instincts. Sweeping her up in his arms, he shoved his way past the clamoring humans, only vaguely recognizing his companions. Bursting out of the confined, stuffy rooms, he paused only to sniff, scenting deeply, searching.

There! Turning, leaping off the veranda, Kagome held close in his arms, he ignored the shouts and pleas that wafted after them. Water, he had to find water. Preferably flowing, and cool. Leaving the village behind, he dashed through a screen of willows, and found it; a river, running clear and clean. Without stopping, he waded in, thigh deep. Going to his knees, he submerged Kagome to her neck, letting the chilly water soak her, cooling her burning skin. He knew it wasn’t enough. The pure, unbridled instinct that fueled him told him so. Stripping her of the kimono, he eyed the bandages, and smelling the poison that lingered, beneath the herbs, he came to a decision. Ripping off the gauze, laying her wound bare, he growled, low and savage. The poison had doubled in her system; it had not abated at all. It had to come out.

Supporting Kagome’s slight weight with one arm, InuYasha flexed the claws of the other, and in one swift move, sliced the stitching, and the wound, open.

Kagome screamed.

Torn out of the scorching fog, she felt as if she were being flayed alive. The opening of the wound brought about pain she had yet to experience, and how she remained conscious through it was a miracle - or a curse.

InuYasha, flattening his ears at her cry, did not hesitate, but set grimly to his task. The wound had festered overnight, going from an expected red, to an angry purple and black. Threads of the same branched off from it, obscene legs reaching to devour her.
At its opening, a great gout of blackened, bloody pus erupted. The sheer votality of it burned even his hand. As he pressed further upon the incision, Kagome began to struggle, her cries now weak and fragile. Lost in the wash of pure youki that had been brought forth within him, he remained silent, intent. As she fought further, the pain driving her into a frenzy, he looped one of his legs over hers, and grasped her right arm with his right hand, her left pinned against him.

Growling at the stench, unsatisfied at the amount of poison released, InuYasha once again dunked Kagome, washing the wound clean. Raising her once more, he answered the clamoring of his blood, and put his mouth to her skin. The first pull brought her voice back, tenfold. The second magnified it. She was being stripped raw, blazing knives tearing her open, from the inside out. Had she been able, she would have purified him, the agony rendering her senseless to his identity.

Over and over he sucked, pulling at the wound. Over and over he brought forth great masses of putrefying poison, spitting it behind him into the river. On and on it went, him drawing at the wound, spitting, trying not to gag. Her voice was now all but gone, leaving her gasping, reaching, but finding no relief. She jerked and spasmed in his arms unable to fight his greater strength.

How long this continued, neither could say. He knew only the heat of her skin, the taste of rotting, deadly poison, the burn on his tongue. At some length, the taste of her blood became cleaner, more prevalent. As the wound started flowing red, he paused long enough to rinse his mouth.

It was then he became aware of the crowd. Gathered on the bank, a group of villagers, Sango, Miroku and the kit at the front, Kirara on the slayers shoulder, they watched, -eyes big and bodies tense.

Ignoring the questions in their eyes, he turned again to the miko in his arms.

Kagome shivered uncontrollably, the chill of the river finally having reached her. The gash on her shoulder bled freely, the stench of poison almost gone. Gradually, slowly, he came back to himself. Felt the wildness subside, his youki recede, but not completely, no. So long as she remained in danger, it would lie in wait, just beneath the surface, waiting.

The miko laid utterly spent, limp in his arms. She did not stir as he nuzzled her, spoke her name. But her breathing was steady, her pulse stronger. At the sound of splashing behind him, he whirled, fangs bared and muscles bunched.
Sango stopped, palms out.

“It’s just me, InuYasha. I want to help. Is she better?”

Eyeing the crowd behind her, he kept Kagome pressed firmly to him, hiding her from prying eyes.

“Yeah, some.” He said his voice rough with the poisonous residue “You bring the bandages and stuff?”

“Yes, bring her to the bank and we’ll take care of it.” Sango stepped backwards, her arm still out to him in invitation. The hanyou did not move.

“They must leave all of them, the monk and kit too.”

Not wishing to spook him further, Sango agreed.

“Alright, just a moment.”

Speaking softly, she instructed Miroku to take the villagers and Shippou back, and leave the supplies with her. The kit and healer began to protest, but the monk, understanding the situation, overruled them.

“No. He won’t come out if we’re here. He won’t have so many people around her, even us.”

Seeing their continued resistance, he became firm. “If we pressure him, he’ll take her and flee. He’s very dangerous right now, it’s best to give them some space. Come Shippou, you know he’ll take care of her.”

Thus, reluctantly, with no other choice, they obeyed, the kit casting worried, angry glances over his shoulder as they departed.

Once alone, InuYasha brought Kagome to the shore, laying her down gently on the soft grass.

Together, he and Sango re-bandaged the wound, using fresh herbs, and dressed her in a clean, dry kimono. Satisfied that she was once again stable, if not much better, the hanyou consented to return to the healers rooms.

*********

Several times, over the course of the next few days, InuYasha drained the wound, caring for her as gently as a newborn. He held her as she cried after, rumbling to her, speaking softly.

InuYasha fed her himself, using chopsticks, spoons, and his own hands, ensuring she got enough. He bathed her carefully, allowing only Sango’s help to maintain her ultimate privacy.

At the end of a week, Kagome was much better, sitting up on her own, and completely clear headed. The question of the poisons power came to light during that time. Upon inspection by the houshi, the mole youkai had been found to have eaten wormwood and sactra, the deadly combination elevating the potency of his natural venom. Certainty of this was determined by slicing into the creatures gut, whereupon the fumes of the toxic herbs were plain to be noticed.

For his part, InuYasha was just relieved that it was over, and his miko restored to him, safe and sound. Very sound, as it turned out. Tired of being clustered up in the recovery room, she wanted air, and was fighting to get it.

“Damn it, InuYasha, I need to breathe. I swear, I’m going to smother in here.”

The hanyou met her glare for glare.

“No way in hell, wench. You aren’t anywhere near well enough to be outside.”

Kagome raised an eyebrow, contemplating an osuwari.

“Don’t even think it. You are not going outside.” Crossing his arms in his sleeves he presented a mask of resolution.

Kagome sighed. Sitting him was not what she wanted. He had taken such good care of her, feeding, bathing, and guarding her. Hell, she was alive today because of him.

Remembering the pull of his mouth on her skin, Kagome blushed. She had been completely bare before him, and yet had never felt so safe. She wanted time with him, to relive that emotional intimacy, to thank him. Raising blue eyes to his gold, she spoke quietly.

“You’re right, I am still weak. But couldn’t we go out, just for a little while, together? You’d be with me the entire time, so I’d be sure to be okay.”

Seeing him waver, at the ‘together’ bit, she pressed on

“Please, just for a little while.”

Meeting her gaze, InuYasha felt his resolve weaken.

Damn, how does she do this to me?

Two little words and he was putty in her hands; together, and please. He was doomed.

“Fine,” he replied, “but only for a while.”

He kept his voice gruff, face irritated, as though she were the most trying and aggravating wench on the planet. In other words, things were back to as usual.

But she’s my aggravating wench, he thought with an internal smile. And he would do whatever he had to in order to keep her that way.


Finis