InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Limerance ❯ What I Find ( Chapter 5 )

Limerance

Chapter 4 - What I Find

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He was dreaming again.

He had to be.

A dream was the only rational explanation for her presence.

Again, he marveled at the clarity of his memory of her. This time, he could even smell her scent. Sesshoumaru inhaled slowly - deliberately - wanting to savor every bit of this new detail. Her hair smelled of the forest - pine and crushed leaves. It was different than what he remembered, but it was pleasing all the same. If he had to give it a name, he would have called it the smell of autumn.

She looked directly at him, her gaze boring through his defenses. Her hair was soaked and plastered to her skin, loose strands accenting the softness of her face. Against the dark contrast of her black hair, her eyes burned a bright sapphire. Something soft and warm moved against his hand; he realized that he was touching her hair. At some point, his hand had traveled upwards to stroke the wet tendrils of inky blackness.

Yes, this had to be another damned hallucination. Her arms were wrapped around his waist, her chest pressed firmly against the solid, heavy plate of his armor. She had come to him willingly - had even run to him, something that never would have happened normally. He would never have allowed it - allowed this. It was disgraceful - it was repulsive - for a noble ruler of his stature to touch a mortal so freely. Inwardly, he cursed. She was pressed so close against him, swaying like a sapling in the wind. If his hand hadn't been supporting her back, she would surely have toppled to the ground. There was so much desperation in her eyes, a look that was unfamiliar to him. The woman he remembered never begged, never pleaded. In fact, he had trouble remembering any time that she had called for help in his presence. The look she wore now unsettled him inside, and he cursed again.

He needed to push her away. Now. These dreams were becoming parasites upon his sense of duty and honor. If he allowed this to progress then he would muddle his priorities. Her lips parted on a gasp. He watched them closely, wanting to take in every bit of color and texture before he reigned in his willpower and forced himself to end this absurd proximity. Like in all the dreams before, he expected silence to emerge, and therefore nearly started when her voice emerged instead.

“Please…” she whispered breathlessly. “Please, help me…you are Sesshoumaru, right? Please, help me.”

She was asking for his assistance. Upon sifting through his memories, he couldn't find any time when someone had dared to do such a useless thing. After all, asking him for help was the equivalent of asking a tiger to stop hunting or asking for the sun to never rise again. The only person he had ever assisted was himself. No other being was worthy of the honor. Yet here she was - asking as though none of that had ever mattered.

The world shifted around him, and he suddenly realized something. His surroundings were nothing like the dream he saw so often. Where was the stream? Where was the full moon? Where was the waterfall and the enclave in the forest? He was standing in an empty clearing, just at the edge of a line of trees. Then it clicked. This dream was not a dream at all! She was really here, or at least something or someone that resembled her. Upon first seeing her sprinting towards him, he had lost the sense of his surroundings. That such a thing could have happened to him, the Great Sesshoumaru, was an indignity that couldn't be ignored.

How had he made such a mistake? He was in complete control - he was always in complete control. He prided himself on his iron willpower. So, where was it now? Had it been sucked into the depths of those blue eyes? Was it her fault, or his? Did it even matter? The fact remained that he had allowed this small, water-logged, bag of flesh and bones to pick at cracks in his self-control that he thought were non-existent. Bit by bit, she was pulling him down from perfection into pandemonium. There was no way in hell he would permit it.

Fury, strong and unbidden, rose up like a conflagration in his lungs. His hands tensed; his claws elongated. Heedless of the fragile skin beneath those claws, he tightened his grip on the woman's arms until she yelped in pain. Excellent. That was what he wanted. Her fear was palpable; it permeated the air - completely overrode the natural scent that he had foolishly believed attractive. Yes - she had to suffer; she had to pay with her blood for daring to make him lose control. Damn her to hell!

His patience was quickly unraveling - turning into ribbons that were scorched into nothingness by the fiery vengeance of his wounded pride. He gritted his teeth to suppress a growl - forced his features into a cold mask. He would, himself, be damned if he showed any sign of weakness before this thing again. Sickened by her very presence, he shoved her away from him as though she was diseased. In his rage, he did not check his strength. The simple movement sent her flying and skidding several feet away. His sensitive ears picked up the sound of air being forced out of her lungs. Had he hurt her? He dearly hoped so. She struggled to get to her feet, her face so pale that she looked like she was made of fragile porcelain.

“If you want to stay alive, you will not stand up again,” he ground out.

For a moment, he thought she would heed his warning. But he should have known that she was more addled than she looked. As though she had not heard him, she pushed herself to her feet and sprinted towards something on the ground. It was a bow; he hadn't noticed it until just now. In fact, there was a quiver strapped haphazardly to her back. He had somehow overlooked it too. She was muttering something under her breath. His eyes narrowed a degree. If she was indeed the woman from so long ago, then she was still a priestess. Was she mumbling an incantation? Was she really stupid enough to think that she had any chance of overpowering his far superior strength? She reached backwards, hoping to grab hold of an arrow, only to realize with a horrified expression that there was only a single one left. The feathers on it were torn. From prior knowledge, he knew that it would not fly correctly no matter how skillful her aim.

Good.

This was good.

He would take great pleasure in humiliating her before ripping her to shreds. Responding to his anticipation of the torture to come, miasma gathered around his claws - green and dripping with an aura of malevolence. He was poised to strike.

She was still panting heavily. Her heart was hammering so loudly in her chest that it was impossible not to hear the crazy rhythm. With trembling hands, she notched the arrow. As soon as the bowstring was pulled all the way back, the air went cold and absolutely still. The wind died, the trees stopped swaying, the grass stopped moving. Time, itself, seemed to stop. Then, the terror on her face shifted. Her features smoothed out, the heavy lines of distress disappearing. A sculptor had somehow transformed the stark image of dread on her visage into the perfect picture of composed dispassion. The metamorphosis was so quick and unexpected that his own mask of stoicism nearly fractured.

Then another surprise - he saw that the arrow she'd prepared was not aimed in his direction. Instead, she turned around and pointed it towards the forest. Her back straightened, her shoulders moved her torso into a posture full of grace. Composure emphasized each movement as she donned confidence like broad, thick, armor. Had she lost her mind? She was aiming at nothing. Unless she hoped to somehow fell a tree with a single arrow, he saw no purpose to her actions.

He was frozen in place by the clammy hand of uncertainty.

Then he heard it - footsteps. Bare feet were trampling loose dirt at an inhuman speed. He widened his senses only to discover that the action was pointless. His eyes revealed everything his instincts hadn't felt before. There, right before him, stood his half-brother - Inuyasha.

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It's a mistake. It has to be a mistake. There's no way that she's here!

Inuyasha's mind echoed with a thousand voices. They were all conflicting. Some said he was delusional while others assured him that his gut had never failed him. When he came upon the woman on the riverbank, his very soul had fallen into chaos.

There's no way…there's absolutely no way…

But there it was - her scent. It was different, more natural and covered in overtones of wool and soaked cotton - but it was there. It was her. He wasn't sure where the pain came from first. His head exploded in agony, while his heart constricted into knots. His stomach felt as though it was being chiseled out with a knife, while his legs felt weak and unstable. His mind went blank. Inuyasha was not known for thinking things through. He usually acted before analyzing the consequences of anything he did. In fact, he wasn't sure that there had ever been a time when analysis had seemed important. What good were theories, plans, and strategies when it was so much simpler to just leap forth with confidence to overcome all obstacles? Right now, there were definitely none of those things in his mind.

All he could think about was running to her, holding her, speaking to her. Ever since her disappearance, his guilt and regret had slowly devoured him from within. He blamed himself for ever allowing her to make that final wish. In fact, he often dreamed of that fateful day when he had stood by silently until it was too late. Some part of him knew that there had been no other way to rid the world of the Jewel and its evil, but the majority of him simply didn't care. He was selfish - he had always been. Before he had met Kikyo, he had learned to live only for himself. Over time, that feeling had dulled somewhat as he experienced her kindness, but despite everything he had gone through it had never fully disappeared.

He wanted to turn his back on the world; he wanted to spit on the Jewel and all it represented. The woman that stood shivering in the water now had become his world. Over the years in their conflict with Naraku, he had begun to covet her until there was no doubt in his mind that she was his and his alone. They had sacrificed much for each other; they had even decided to stay together as long as mortality allowed them. Until the day that she had made her completely selfless choice.

What insanity had come over him all those years ago? What had made him agree to her ludicrous proposition? He still didn't know. Now, however, it no longer mattered. By some twist of fate - or perhaps a miracle - she was standing before him now. His priestess was within reach. All he had to do was jump and catch her in his arms. He didn't think - what did thoughts matter anyway? Only gestures held any significance.

But, it seemed that his sudden actions were a mistake. As soon as he jumped towards her, she let loose an arrow he hadn't realized she had been holding. It hit him, stabbing through his leg. The pain only vaguely registered. How hadn't he seen that? Then again, he wasn't too surprised. Years of battle had taught him that - where the priestess was concerned - he developed tunnel vision much too often. He reached down and pulled the arrow out of his appendage, watching her bolt and disappear into the trees. Naturally, he followed.

He let loose a string of curses when the wound throbbed every time he moved. It slowed him down, but not enough to lose her trail. She couldn't run far - no human could outrun him, wounded or not. The chase went on for some time until, finally, he burst out of the last bit of foliage and stepped into a wide clearing. To his surprise, she stood calmly before him. Her impassive gaze stirred bad memories. There was another arrow notched and ready to fire. She didn't speak out loud, but her eyes spoke volumes. He knew that he shouldn't move now. The situation had quickly become dangerous.

She wouldn't hurt me…why is she pointing that at me?

“What are you doing?” he asked aloud. “I'm not your enemy.” He held up his hands in a calming gesture.

“Take one more step and I'll turn you into dust,” she warned. Gods, how he'd missed her voice.

“Put that damn thing down. Don't you recognize me?” He stepped forward, trying to inch closer to her. If he could just grab her and hold her close, he was certain that she would come to her senses.

“I mean it, demon.” Something painful scraped a dull knife against his heart. Demon? She had never called him that. Always, she had known that he was sensitive to references to his heritage. There was definitely something wrong here. The sooner he captured her, the sooner he could find out what it was. As he inched forward again, he felt a familiar weight around his neck. The prayer beads - he had never had the courage to remove them. Even after the power in them died with her, he held onto them. He feared that if he got rid of them, he would somehow be throwing away the last of what remained of her.

But she's alive now, he thought. Maybe they'll work again. He frowned. I can't let her use them. If she subdues me now, then she'll have a better chance to get away. I've got to catch her before she can.

Just as he prepared to leap towards her again - arrow or not - he felt a powerful, evil, aura clash against his own. His eyes narrowed and a growl shook his entire body. The sensation was, unfortunately, too familiar. The hilt of the Tetsusaiga was clenched in his grip before he completely turned to the intruder. He kept it sheathed. For now.

“Sesshoumaru…” he said through a clenched jaw. Of all the times for his damned half-brother to show up! Then it clicked. He understood. His beloved priestess' strange behavior, the absence of recognition in her eyes, and her readiness to attack him - Sesshoumaru must be responsible for all of it! “You bastard! What have you done to her?” His half-brother's expression didn't waver, but the miasma that surrounded his claws grew upwards until it surrounded his entire body. The demon's silver hair - so much like his own - shifted in a phantasmic wind. Inuyasha dropped into a defensive stance.

“What are you doing here, half-breed?” Sesshoumaru asked impassively.

“Shut up and tell me what you've done to her,” was Inuyasha's fierce reply. Instead of obliging, his brother turned to face the priestess. No answer was forthcoming. “I'll kill you if you've hurt her!” The warning didn't faze Sesshoumaru. The half-demon might as well have been yelling at a block of stone. With some alarm, he saw that the demon was slowly moving towards the girl. The hairs on the back of his nape stood up in alarm. Despite the confidence he held in his abilities, Inuyasha wasn't sure that he could outrun his brother if he meant to harm her. The overwhelming need to protect her flew up to the surface as if it hadn't been suppressed by all those years of having nothing left to care about. As he watched his brother push off the ground in her direction, a strangled yell escaped his throat.

“No!” he shouted, using every scrap of adrenaline and force that he could muster to try and beat the demon to his target. He was flying through the air so fast that he could feel the flurry watering his eyes.

I'm not going to make it! He'll hurt her!

She saw him coming and fired the arrow, but she failed to notice Sesshoumaru attacking from the side. Inuyasha dodged the arrow, but the simple action lost him a millisecond of precious time. His brother was so close - he could see his claws just centimeters away from ripping out her throat. Just before he could touch her, her eyes lit up with a fiery, blue glow. A bright, almost blinding light erupted from around her body. Sesshoumaru hesitated for just a second, but it was enough.

“Get away from me! SIT!” She shrieked in the loudest, most desperate, and angriest voice he had ever heard her use. There wasn't time to wonder about that though. Before he could even comprehend what she had done, his body was pulled down by invisible hands, and the ground came up to meet him. The blow was so jarring that his vision went dark.

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What had she done?

I must be in a nightmare…Midori thought in dismay. This must be a nightmare…

But if this was a nightmare, why wasn't she waking up even though she was in pain? The demon that just tried to attack her had somehow fallen to the ground. Originally, she had thought to purify him. The power had been obedient - it had risen up to defend its owner at her call. But he was moving so fast! There wasn't enough time to properly channel her energy. All she could do was scream.

And scream she did. Only, she had yet to understand what it was that she had said. The words had come from somewhere deep inside her heart. Perhaps it was the Gods trying to help her. She looked on in mute shock as the necklace around the demon's neck glowed a bright pink. Whatever she had done, he was subdued. From what she could see, he couldn't move. Almost immediately, she thought to bolt, until she finally remembered that there was still him. When her eyes met his once again, she realized that she was far from being saved. He was moving towards her - step by step. His progression was slow, but in her mind he might as well have been using his demonic speed.

“Wait…” Midori tried to back away, but her legs suddenly decided to completely fail her. Without warning, her traitorous knees gave out and she fell painfully to the ground. A stab of pain slashed up her entire spine; she barely kept herself from groaning. The demon was still advancing, only now that she was on the ground he looked even more massive and threatening than before. “Why are you doing this? Aren't you Sesshoumaru? Please…” then quieter, “…please help me…” There was no need for him to touch her to silence her completely. Just the feeling of his vile miasma was enough. It didn't have a smell; it was a sensation. It poisoned the air around her - burned her throat, singed her nostrils. By the time he reached her, she was already shuddering. Whatever calm she had previously gathered around her to face the other demon was being devoured the pure blackness he radiated.

“I'll help you,” he offered in a deadpan tone. Then a smile curved the edge of his lips. It was the most unnerving thing she'd ever seen - even more horrible than the darkest of her visions. He cracked his knuckles. “I'll help make sure you'll wish for death long before I grant it to you.”

Run.

Now.

But she had no more strength. Her hands fell limply to her sides. Midori felt death coming, and for the first time since she had awakened - clueless and naked - in the grass, she didn't want to fight her fate. Her yukata was still soaked; how fitting that she should die in white. It was an empty color, just like her - empty and without memory or knowledge of why she lived. Her last hope had been shattered. The man she'd dreamed of had turned out to be a monster. The only clue to her past had revealed itself to be nothing but a fanciful illusion.

Something hissed through the air. Pain like no other abruptly wrapped its cruel claws around her entire body. This time, there was no suppressing her shriek of agony. The demon had shot a bright green whip of acid to snake around her form. It was so hot! She felt it eating through her robe and touching skin. Immediately, she smelled burning flesh and hair. Her mind splintered - her thoughts shattered until all higher thinking disappeared entirely.

Get it off! Please, get it off!

She writhed and kicked, trying to separate herself from the indescribable agony, but nothing that she did freed her. If she could have pieced together some form of thought, she would have begged whatever Gods would listen to relieve her of the torture. As it was, she couldn't remember having ever known a single word. There was only the burning now - the feeling of her skin peeling from her bones. Time, reality, fantasy, and dreams all smeared together into a nauseating spiral.

Something snapped.

At first, she thought that bile was rising in her throat to accommodate her need to vomit.

It was something else.

A force.

A heat.

A desire.

A power!

She stopped struggling.

Her vision returned and she looked at the demon with eyes that were not her own. The bastard was smiling - he was enjoying every moment of her torment.

Not for long, a voice inside her warned.

When she moved to stand, the whip tightened around her.

This time, she didn't make a sound.

The energy inside her was still rising, like water filling an empty vessel. Any moment now, it would reach the edge and spill over. Any moment now.

“Well? Beg for death…grovel at my feet as you were meant to do…”

Not for long, that foreign voice repeated.

This time, she stood despite the whip's suffocating hold.

“You will unhand me, foul abomination.” she hissed. Her voice seemed to echo through the clearing. The air thrummed with electricity.

“Only in death…” was his reply.

“Unhand me,” she repeated, louder this time.

“Only in death,” Sesshoumaru countered, louder this time. Small sparks of white light began to surround her until the acidic whip around her body began to melt away.

“UNHAND ME!”

There was a loud explosion. Midori watched everything happen from a distance, as though her body was no longer her own. The feeling was the same one she had felt often when she experienced a vision. She saw the demon's whip completely melt before a wall of dust and stone covered up his image. The wall throbbed and twisted like a living being until it finally vanished into nothingness. In the wake of everything, the demon was left crouching on the ground. Undaunted, he sprang lithely to his feet, gathered more miasma, and became a blur as he bolted towards her.

“RESTRAIN!” the voice commanded.

Midori gasped. The demon halted in mid-flight. It looked as though he'd hit a wall. Only instead of recovering as she expected, he stood stock still. His face was no longer impassive. He looked confused, then furious. Although he didn't move an inch, it was obvious that he was struggling to be free of whatever spell was holding him in place. Her eyes wandered, unbidden, to the place where the second demon still lay. He was groaning. The ears on his head twitched, and he tried to pick up his dust-covered body off the ground. He didn't get a chance.

“SIT!”

With a resounding bang he was thrown back down and lay still once more.

The glow around her body subsided. The only evidence that it had ever been there was a spot on her chest that was still shining. It almost looked like a tattoo and rested right at the top of her sternum. She felt herself being pulled back into consciousness, and right before she re-entered her awareness, she saw that the spot was shaped like an upside-down crescent moon.

What just happened? she asked herself in bewilderment. What have I done?

You now have what you've been searching for. Do not squander what you have been given.

She twisted around so fast that her ankle throbbed in protest. This was the perfect opportunity to run away. By some miracle, both demons were immobilized. She was ready to throw everything she had into a sprint, but a voice stopped her.

“Don't go.” The demon with the beads around his neck was digging his claws into the ground in an obvious effort to move. After a brief struggle, his eyes met hers. They burned with an unrecognizable emotion.

“Please don't go…Kagome.”