InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Needing It ❯ Chapter Eight ( Chapter 7 )

Disclaimer: Some people tell me I'm sick, others just say deluded, but I swear I saw Inuyasha hiding out in my closet, and I don't care what anyone says!

A/N: Moving right along, I present with great pride the next chapter, fresh from my overheated fingers! Hope you like, because it *&^%ing hurt to write!

Premeditation

 

The sun set behind her as Kagura made her way to the mountains, dark thoughts twisting in her mind. `He did it again! That bastard!' With the curse came the memory and she could do nothing to stop it.

“Naraku summons you aneue,” she heard Kanna call out before her small white form disappeared from the door. Anticipating another shard retrieval, the wind sorceress traipsed over to the dark hanyou's bedchamber. Her light steps echoed among the dark walls and the sliding of the shoji door was like the hiss of doom. She struggled to see through the thick mist that assailed her as she made her way into the room.

“You summoned me Naraku,” she asked, looking around for him. An arm snaking around her waist to the left startled her. It snaked through her yukata, seeking the skin beneath. A shudder of disgust and rebellious submission ran down her spine. He still did not speak; instead his other hand materialized from the miasma and ran along the artificial curves beneath her clothes, scaly rodents seeking a prize. When they reached their destination and squeezed Kagura finally gasped, hating herself and him more with each second. The damn bastard had been doing this ever since the death of that mock priestess Kikyou. Now he hardly ever kept his hands off her whenever she found herself in his presence and it sickened her to think he took pleasure from his own spawn. `But,' she thought, biting her lip to stifle the cry of indignant rage welling from his heated touch. `At least it's only been me.' She knew Naraku better than anyone, being his first reincarnation, and she knew him to be the most perverse beast to ever stain the earth. He would not be above such immoralities as pedophilia and sodomy, what with all the demons raging within his crimson eyes. That was her sole reason for accepting him into her in a way that she would not have done if given a choice. `Keep him leeching on me,' she thought bitterly as Kanna walked by the slightly open door, safe for another day. Kagura's clothes were torn away and she was slammed abruptly against the hard wall. Her creator's eyes were dazed and far off, and she saw Onigumo there working his will on the half-demon. `Wish he wouldn't be so rough,' was her last thought before her mind wandered away from the perversity, traveling the winds freer than she could ever be.

“I must be free,” she declared to the wind as the den she sought came into view. “I will be free!” Floating above the entrance, she waited the two seconds it took for her target to appear. More figures moved just within the opening.

“Murderous, conniving, treacherous bitch!” Kouga stood at the front line of his pack as he stared down Kagura, who merely laughed evilly. “How dare you, showing your wretched face here after killing my comrades!” The rest of the wolf pack filed up behind him, snarling and brandishing weapons. The wind incarnation stood on her feather and opened her fan.

“You should've known Naraku would come for you shards eventually, wolf,” she said, her voice carried by the wind. “Now be a good boy and give them up so I won't have to massacre the rest of your kind.” To show how serious she was she flicked her wrist, making green crescents of youki fly at the band of demons. Kouga's pride, still healing from his last run-in with the mutt Inuyasha, flared in rage at the bitch's stab.

“Kill her! I want her head at my feet,” he screamed, his words a war cry that sent all the wolf demons charging. Their cries and moans echoed off the mountain walls, a feminine cackle occasionally bubbling among the pain.

 

~*~

 

`Damn it, fucking snuck up on me again,' Inuyasha thought angrily as the telltale mortality seeped under his skin and he cursed the celestial disk for forsaking him. He took a sniff of his surroundings, growling when he could just barely smell a village not far up the road. He broke into a run, racing the sun. The end of the tree line edged closer and closer, but a sudden electrifying pain stopped him in his tracks. He groaned from the pain as a damnably familiar cloud of helplessness wrapped around him, suffocating him and his senses dulled, succumbing to the mortality. It stung, Gods damn it all, it hurt! For a moment he just lay there, feeling his skin hiss from the shock while he collected himself. He knew what was coming, already felt the swell of emotion gather its forces for its monthly onslaught. It began at the tips of his extremities. His fingers trembled, then the arms, until he was caught in a fit that no one could see, his heart convulsing with suffering. But just as it nearly shook him apart, it vanished, the only evidence a miniscule salt tear over his left cheek. He stood up and made to walk toward the village lights when a heavy weight slammed into him from the right, throwing him against a tree. Before he could recuperate he felt hands grab at his haori. Thousands of voices, each one overlapping the other in a cacophonous dirge, sucked the oxygen all around him.

“Half-breed! How dare you stomp through our forest! We will not tolerate this blasphemy, you shall pay, prepare for your punishment,” the cries of many humans were all he heard before a sudden blow crashed against his temple and knocked him out.

“Miroku, I'm worried,” he heard her say in front of him. He could sympathize with her, for he too could see the moon missing from the night sky. Nonetheless, all they could do was follow the trail, since as a human Kirara could not follow Inuyasha as easily as when he was a hanyou. In an effort to soothe his love, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed Sango flush against him. The taijiya gladly accepted the comfort, but her thoughts still came back to the vulnerable hanyou. Her friend might be in danger, and she could not provide assistance. The thoughts became darker and a sickening dread teased her, warning her that something was wrong.

Inuyasha felt the heavy hand of unconsciousness raise from his chest, letting much needed air to fill his lungs and he struggled to get up. His muscles felt heavy, and he blinked to clear the fog from his vision. A cracked roof of stone welcomed him to reality, followed by the scented air of a prison. Memories, jumbled and incoherent, returned to him in the form of images and sensations- anger, despair, surprise, pain, a mob, the moonless sky, the trees mocking him, and the lights of the village twinkling like a mirage tortures the feverish mind of the traveler lost in the desert. Muttering echoed in the void and Inuyasha struggled to listen, cursing sourly when he could not move his ears to follow the sound.

“So you've awakened demon,” the disdainful voice of a man reverberated on the room walls, the last word spat like so much trash. “You truly are an enigma, foul beast. You carry a rusted sword that couldn't cut a leaf and a single arrow with no bow. On top of that, you have the audacity to don a human body, no doubt to sneak into our village and steal our crops and rape our women.” Many voices agreed loudly, come calling out punishments for the `disgusting creature.' Inuyasha ignored all this, he knew all the words and tones; he focused instead on breaking the ropes binding him to the wooden slab he lay on. Snickers and jeers rose at his efforts. The voice spoke again and this time Inuyasha could see the shaven face of a monk leering at him. “No use trying to escape, my filthy friend. Those bindings are enchanted to be unbreakable. We can't have you breaking free before you are cleansed, can we?” Before he could question what the human meant the smell of wood burning reached him. Memories, chaotic and repressed, sprang to his mind at the hated scent. His eyes burned with the visuals, and he almost didn't feel the first sear of white-hot metal against his arm. However, the second one on his arm above his elbow he definitely registered, and a scream rose to his lips before he shut it off. They would not have the pleasure of making him scream! The same chuckles mocked him and the monk spoke again, waving the iron like a pendulum as it came closer and closer to the skin. “Stubborn, are we? Well, then I must redouble my efforts; otherwise you would never attain Nirvana and be doomed to the seven Hells like the rest of your brethren. Let's see, which point should I cleanse now?” Suggestions flew from all sides as Inuyasha felt the iron brand the skin of his sole. Ragged gasps and deep breaths were the only response the monk received. “Very well, I'll just try this one!” The iron seared again and this time Inuyasha could not contain his cry of agony. It tore through the crowd and out the door, ringing among the stars of the sky and continuing on into the forest.

Sango was dozing off in the warmth of her lover's embrace when Kirara face suddenly shot up a split second before a faint cry of pain reached her ears. The monk and taijiya knew instinctively who it was and the nekomata rushed toward the source of the sound.

“Blasphemous filth, impersonating one of us. Did you think we wouldn't see the truth? Repulsive swine! Feel the wrath of the gods,” the monk screamed, his gleam with each burning even as the leather whip sliced Inuyasha's tattered chest. The hanyou-turned-human just turned his face away, no longer feeling the lashes as he fell into the dredges of his memory. Cries and jeers followed every lash of the whip back then too, and the soft innocent hands of children pulled ruthlessly on his ears, until he feared they would be ripped off at any second. So many voices pounding his soul with their words, their remarks, curses, criticisms, screams, taunts, catcalls, voices everywhere disembodied from their masters. His six-year-old body, already weak from the sobbing over his mother's death, broke down under the strain, becoming a limp doll as it took the abuse without question, until the worthlessness seeped into his very blood yet again, even as it dripped over the table onto the floor. Only the startled cries of the audience and a piercing feline growl wrenched him from the past, bringing him to this reality where black haze lined the outer edges of his vision. His body was pain, was blood and betrayal, sinking deeper and deeper into the pit of unconsciousness.

Kirara had lived for many years, first with the mighty priestess Midoriko, then with generations of demon slayers, until finally forming a close bond with Sango. In her long life she had seen many horrors, learned many truths that she would carry silently with her until the end of her life. Yet never once had she witnessed such savagery as what the humans in that cell were doing. Instinct took control, calling her to protect her pack brother, save him from the pain. The drop in his heart rate only served to make her angrier as she easily cleared the crowd around the door to burst into the fray. Sango was seeing red and flung Hiraikotsu at the torturer without a second thought. Miroku leapt off the nekomata to reach his friend. The sight made him wince. There were severe burns all over his body, and fresh gashes from a switch bled into his ruined gi as he lay on the table, hands hanging limply off the side. Miroku removed the ropes, vaguely noticing the mystical energy surrounding them before sweeping it aside and lifting the body of his friend. Kirara stepped forward to accept the body on her back, wrapped in his own bloodstained haori whilst Sango stomped to the monk in the corner, boomerang held high. She too had seen the cruelty of man, but to see her friend spread out on that slab and subjected to senseless torture was too much for her. Her eyes blazed with godlike fury that only intensified with each step. The man sputtered and waved his arms in a show of mercy.

“You don't understand! He's a demon disguised as a human! Do not be fooled, brother monk-,” the rest was cut off when the taijiya delivered a jarring blow to the man's ribs. Miroku turned to him, eyes blazing with anger.

“Do not presume to be my brother, you vile disgrace. Anyone can see that this man is indeed human. You simply used an illusion to elicit your own masochistic pleasures. You sicken me.” Silence rang in the dungeon as the group left the monk. Sango couldn't bear to look on Inuyasha, feeling the tears fall down her cheeks at how scarred he would be after tonight, despite his youkai blood. Once far away from the village, they made camp and Miroku bandaged his friend's injuries, all seven burns on his arms and legs and the hundreds of whip gashes on his chest, but the one he almost gagged over was the branding right above the apex of his legs. It was so dangerously close that it made him shudder with male sympathy. He wondered grimly of the hanyou's soul would ever recover from such humiliation. Realization hit him when those canine ears that distinguished his companion like nothing ever could twitch and the thought that he might have had to suffer this all his life. Could it have been so possible to hate one's race so much? Male pride and empathic sadness swelled in the houshi's soul for Inuyasha, for living alone through horrors Miroku would never know. The treatment set, he finally let the weariness hit him full force, no longer having the strength to hold it back. Sango lent her comfort in the form of an embrace over his shoulder. The black hand of sleep urged Miroku to rest and he obliged eagerly. Together they slept over Inuyasha's form.

 

~*~

 

No doubt that is one of the laws of society-the less an evil is understood the more bitterly and harshly is it attacked.

 

The words jumped at Kagome from the chalkboard as Tetsujin looked up at his class with his trademark smile.

“As I'm sure you all recognize this quote from a short story by the renowned Russian writer Anton Chekhov,” some of the class snickered at the sarcasm while others just read and reread the quote, “Then you should also know the extremely easy assignment I've planned for you. I want a three-page paper on how this insight fits into the mentality of the Sengoku Jidai and the writings of Jiji. Remember to list specific examples to support your thesis. Oh, and its due tomorrow.” The class moaned in response to this revelation, Kagome included. Gods, these damn freshmen professors never let up, even with midterms looming over her, its multiple-choices and written exams plaguing her waking hours. She groaned and put her head on her table, wishing she had a family fortune or, if not, she wished to be a hermit. Anything to stop the constant tests!

“This guy sucks ass,” she heard a voice say behind her and she smiled. Despite the truth of the statement, she knew better than to blow off college assignments. So, in true `A' student spirit she whipped out her notepad and recorded everything she could think of on the quote, grimacing empathetically at the many examples from the life of Lord Inu that sprang to life. Speaking of Lord Inu- the book was getting really good, and she found herself begging for class to end so that she could finish the next chapter. Would the young lord finally admit his feelings for the Miko? Will she accept? Oh, she couldn't wait! The bell ringing some time later proved to be a starting bell at a horse track as the freshman raced out of the classroom, weaving easily among the bodies with a subconscious ease born of fighting countless battles, yet if you had told her this her face would have scrunched up in thought before laughing and walking away.

 

~*~

 

The first thing he felt was the sun on his skin. The next as he took a deep breath were the scents of two familiar people. Opening his eyes suddenly, he saw the sleeping faces of Sango and Miroku. A part of him leapt at the sight of them, happy to be in the company of humans who did not openly detest him. But another voice urged him to run. `Remember your promise,' it whispered, and in the end Inuyasha relented. Standing up slowly and donned his haori over his gi which his youki fixed effortlessly, wincing with pain at his injuries, and began moving away from their comfort. A mew behind him prompted him to look and he was face to face with Kirara in kitten form. She jumped on him, purring madly and sniffing the bandages intently. He struggled to remain still under the nekomata's ministrations and her soft purrs on his chest, and it was with great effort that he wrenched her from him. The pain was there again, lurking under the surface of his skin and burning everywhere the little cat had touched. Kirara landed on her feet and peered at him silently. There was a strange emotion in those eyes, and Inuyasha realized it with a start what it was- compassion, and understanding. His skin burst into flame with the raw power in that gaze and he had to run, couldn't deal with such kinship. When the lovers woke it came as no surprise to find the mat before them empty save for kitten Kirara curled up in the center, fast asleep.

 

~*~

 

She should've been expecting this. After all, she knew perfectly well that Jiji was a bastard, asshole, jerk, shit, damn it! All that build up, months of sexual tension and confused feelings, and all the complex factors that made the story so engrossing, only to end up at a measly four lines! Honest to God, if she could she would've strangled him for leaving her like this, hanging off the faintest shred of emotional sanity. She almost didn't want to read the rest! Almost. Gathering herself on the sofa, Kagome opened the journal and continued the chapter. Mere moments later quiet sniffles and soft sobs echoed in the apartment, only to be drowned by the radio as the freshman curled up and cried for the Lord she couldn't remember.

 

~*~

 

“Oi! What are you writing there, coward,” Inuyasha asked as he sat in his meditative pose, one eye open looking at Myouga writing languidly on a comically small pad of paper.

“Inuyasha-sama! Do not let your concentration waver,” the flea admonished, his frown completely wasted on the much larger hanyou, who merely puffed at him before closing his eyes and chanting again. He had gotten much better at this meditation thing, progressing from simple deep breaths to advanced chants to various Kami. Each session brought him closer and closer to his Youkai and Human sides. They were largely different from each other, but there were many things that connected them, and through his trances Inuyasha worked to strengthen these similarities. Now five months since he began his training to become a Seer, he found it relatively easy to catch snippets, mere seconds, of the future. It wasn't helpful in a fight, but it was progress nonetheless. The encounter with the villagers and the monk no longer plagued him, as he had learned to shrug off such trivialities. Scars heal after all, even if some take longer than others. On the bright side, the hanyou could feel his instinct telling him it was almost over. Of course, he wasn't sure, but it was there. `Maybe I should pay that wimpy wolf a visit,' he thought with a smile, imagining the bastard prostrate before him. Myouga looked up to catch the smile, and forgot his journal completely.

 

Let me know how I did, everyone, because I think the end is coming, maybe even in the next two chapters! Oh, and for American Miko1112, you are the best ever. Thanks for the reviews!

Ja ne