InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ My Hatred, My Obsession ❯ Heat of Fear ( Chapter 4 )

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

By: raven91

My Hatred, My Obsession

Chapter 4 - Heat of Fear

The fire blazed merrily.

The night was silent as if all the creatures in the forest had ceased their infernal racket just to please him. After all, they probably knew that it was better that he was pleased. No one had died yet, and they planned to keep it that way. He deemed them fools for believing that he would waste his time on such a useless task as ending their empty lives. Still, at this moment, he felt that he could easily manage to do something useless. His anger was high enough, and the control that he had developed over it for the past several hundred years was shredding in mere minutes. From his position leaning against the tree, looking forward at the fire across from him, he was once again drawn into the wonder of the entire situation.

He watched her hesitant and pained movements as she clumsily tried to bandage her injuries, narrowed his eyes when her own lit up in determination, and had to choke off a growl when she bit her lip and winced in pain when she reached a particularly sensitive spot.

He was curious. That was all there was to it. He was curious as to why all the creatures in the land could sense his power - even the most powerful - and yet this tiny…thing…could not. Or maybe she simply didn't care. She hadn't even once acknowledged his presence, even though he was standing not too far from her. He still could not comprehend how such a small and fragile being could capture so much of his attention and curiosity. He continued to watch her, hoping beyond hope that he would find something - anything - at all that would prove her to be special. She was weak…he could determine that without having to reach too deeply with his senses into her aura. Even though her body hummed with Miko powers, they were not as strong as he had thought they were. But there was something there…something about her movements, something about the way her hair shone in the moonlight, something in the scent that was carried to him by the wind…

He cursed himself for such sentimental thoughts. But his feet made no move to carry him away from the scene he deemed disgusting and offending. At least she had shown him proper respect. She had feared him, at first, upon awakening. Her breathing had escalated, her face losing color, and she had tried to back away from him. It was unfortunate for her that she was still too weak to accomplish her desired task. With time, considering that he made no move to acknowledge her, she must have assumed that she was safe, for as soon as regained at least a fraction of her strength, she moved to take care of her injuries.

No questions were asked, and even if they had been, they would have remained orphans without their parent answers. The time was spent in silence between them both, as if both creatures simply did not coexist. But he did not mind. The lack of sound meant lack of mundane responsibilities. It meant that he could have some time away from the burden of the ordinary. Thoughts had their own loads to be carried, but they were not so heavy as reality. And so he thought.

His lands were in turmoil. Naraku had caused much damage to the previously flourishing country-side, and despite his best efforts, the hanyou seemed to have the upper hand. But he had to admit that he had not been putting his full strength into the bastard's elimination. He had been preoccupied with his brother and Tetusaiga and Sou'nga to pay much attention to something he had, at first, considered a trivial matter. He had thought it beneath him to touch the hanyou and waste his precious time on a quest to end his miserable existence, but as he watched Naraku's power grow, he had come to realize that he had made a mistake in over-estimating his intellectual level. Naraku must be more than moronic to believe that he could get away from the Lord of the Western Lands alive.

He had been building an army of youkai to send after him - this Sesshoumaru knew. He had sent out scouts to confirm his suspicious and he had been filled with anger when it turned out he had been correct. Did Naraku truly believe he could defeat him? There was no doubt in Sesshoumaru's mind that such a thing would never happen. But something nagged at him.

Naraku was more dangerous than Sesshoumaru had thought him to be at first. His body could not be destroyed, and he sometimes wondered how such a thing could be. A sudden thought occurred to him, and he turned to face the woman, who was apparently gathering her garments. He had seen her, once, shoot an arrow at Naraku and witnessed the damage that it caused. It had left nothing but a floating head, but it had taken Naraku months to regenerate his missing appendages. Regeneration did not take long, normally, for a youkai; however, such severe damage would have taken longer. But the fact remained, that it had taken twice as long as normal for the filthy thing to re-grow its body, and Sesshoumaru had a guess as to why.

It was the woman's miko powers that were at work.

He returned to reality quickly when she made an abrupt movement. It was growing dark quickly. Night was setting in, and it appeared that she was embarking on some sort of journey. Her bag was draped over one shoulder, a few garments in her hand, and she was dressed in a pair of strange pants that were tight around her legs. She had returned his garment to him long ago, folded neatly and carefully. Such an act showed her gratitude more than any words could have. So, she owed him nothing.

But why, then, did he feel that he could not let her walk away?

(……………………R 30;….)

She was going to be sick. How had she managed to get herself into this mess? Her head was spinning, and the ground heaved as if trying to rid itself of the rain that soaked it. She looked across from her at the one thing that even now had her heart pounding and tripping over itself in fear.

Sesshoumaru.

He was ethereal. There was no other way of describing him. His robes moved eerily with the wind and his hair - spun silver - reflected the moonlight like some unnaturally smooth mirror. His entire being seemed completely out of place in the greens and browns of the forest. His eyes, although focused on some other point in space, were bottomless and striking. He looked like some regal hawk, pondering the meaningless lives of those creatures beneath him. But no matter how hard Kagome tried, she couldn't get any vibes from him - good or bad.

He was simply an enigma, and that, in itself, was the most frightening thing of all. It was as if he truly did not belong in this world. Time seemed to bend and curve around him as if fearful of touching and marring the beauty that was so unreal. And beautiful he was…frighteningly bewitching and statuesque. His arms were folded, his head tilted sideways to face the fire. It crackled and smoldered, reflecting in his eyes and making them glow. She stood, knowing that she had to leave. She could not remain with him any longer, no matter how unsuited for traveling she was. Kagome hoped that by leaving she would be doing him a favor; after all, things were not smooth between them. They were enemies, and the memories of that night were still too fresh. She shouldered her backpack and grabbed her school uniform - now torn and unfit for wearing. He was quiet all the while, but her sudden movement must have startled him, for she unexpectedly found herself the focus of his stare.

And that is when she knew true fear.

The intensity of his gaze was too much. To have his full attention upon herself was too great a burden. He was a predator again, just like so long ago, and she was his prey. Her heart skipped a beat, and from that point onward the drummer within it lost his rhythm altogether, as if he was also mesmerized by the death in that look. Her diaphragm contracted painfully, and her stomach became drunk with adrenaline. The muscles in her legs tensed, ready to repeat their previous exercise of running. Her senses flared outward, reminding her of the terrible lurching tug of the jaki of a Shikon Shard. The world lost its meaning - the all-consuming heat of her body making her feel like she was alone and dying within an inferno - his inferno. Yet the cold sweat on her body weighed her down, the goosebumps painfully reminding her that reality would be terrifying and painful. She felt her breathing accelerate, and felt like crying with the dread that continued to relentlessly pummel her.

Yet there was nothing in his eyes to suggest any sort of emotion. Not hunger, not bloodlust, not anger, not excitement. He was simply nothing, and that was the worst of all. She could not guess what he wanted, could not prepare for anything he would do. It was as if by gifting her with his scrutiny, he pulled a blindfold around her own eyes. She could see nothing, hear nothing, feel nothing - and it left her vulnerable and numb with terror. Her throat worked and she let out a sound very much like a whimper, her feet moving on their own to back away from the sheer magnitude of emotions brought to her through his eyes. Then she saw it.

It was brief, but it was something. She could not understand what it was that she had seen, and she did not want to. She had made the mistake of seeing too much already, and she didn't wish to repeat something she regretted so much. She felt her injuries pull painfully with her movements, and dearly hoped that he would let her go in peace. What use did he have for her? Why had he kept her alive instead of killing her? While she had been thrashing from her fever, he could have dealt the final blow. Perhaps he had wished upon her a painful death, but she had to remind herself that he had no desires of that sort. She did not mean so much.

Her eyes stung when he shifted, and she bolted, losing all rational thought and feeling only the deep instinct of self-preservation. Why hadn't she learned by now, that it was useless to run? That he would get her no matter how quickly she moved? But in that poignant moment, nothing mattered but the lust for life. And so she ran, heedless of where she was going, her fever and illness blurring her mind and slowing her body. Her blind and wild madness took her off the trail and into the river, up to her waist in depth. Still, she ran, her fear taking hold until she knew nothing but the word “escape!”.

She didn't know that she was crying, sobbing, wildly splashing in the water in her haste to get as far away as she could from him. It seemed that her body's memories from that night were burning in her flesh. Her scars - his marks - were savage reminders of what he was capable of doing…

Suddenly, she couldn't move. Her arms were wrapped in steel, her body pressed up against a solid rock, her screams cut off by something that was unyielding and powerful. She screamed and struggled, but to no avail. She was completely helpless! Still, she twisted and turned until she had no more strength, and even continued through that.

“Be Still.”

No! Why should she be? She would die!

“Woman. Cease your useless squirming, I will not hurt you.”

The voice vibrated into her back and somehow, the red in her vision faded. She fell limply against his chest, breathing harshly. Chills shook her until to her very center. The hand on her mouth loosened -

“Please…” she breathed, “Please…make it stop…” She heard a sigh leave his lips, and felt a pleasurable sensation as his fingers dug into her hair. A memory flashed and she stiffened in his grip. “Let me go…” She was astounded at the weakness of her voice.

“That would serve no purpose, woman. You cannot stand.” She was still shivering and it had become so bad that she could barely move her jaw.

“I…can…t-too…” Another weary sigh.

“Do as you please.” He released her and she wavered for a moment before falling. The water broke her fall from grace and she found that it was deeper than she had thought before. He had been holding her up. She struggled for a moment under the cold water before she realized that she was too tired to swim. She came up sputtering and coughing and felt him pulling her up forcefully by her collar. This time, she accepted his help, throwing her arms around him like the anchor he was.

Safe…

That was all she could think of as she promptly lost consciousness.