InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Of Zombies and Ninjas ❯ Of Zombies and Ninjas ( Chapter 1 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

"I can't believe it's been ten years." Jakotsu pouted, flabberghasted. The scenery looked different, all right. That had been the first thing he'd noticed. Anyone would notice freezing, blinding snow on the day of their execution; suddenly being 'alive' right after but in the midst of summer heat would shock them too.

He yawned and scratched lazily at the back of his neck. It itched like crazy; for all he knew, his head would fall off or something if he wasn't careful. It wasn't every day a person found himself revived after having been beheaded.

The short boy walking beside him cast him an odd sideways glance before hurrying his steps in an attempt to keep up with the taller figure's longer strides.

"You sure it's been that long?"

The boy stopped. "Closer to ten and a half, actually." Jakotsu stopped as well to give him a halfhearted glower, obviously put out. The boy continued: "That is what my master has told me, anyway. I wouldn't know anything about your mercenary group otherwise."

"Grnnnnnn... and where are the others?"

"We'll be meeting with them shortly. I only just revived you," the boy replied blandly, to which the zombie mercenary raised an annoyed eyebrow. He hadn't even been allotted much time to style his hair, all mussed from the gravedirt, and it was a wonder his kimono and sword were so well preserved. Ten years should have done something significant to their condition, but oh well. He didn't rightly care too much in the first place. The thought had just randomly popped into his mind, and now just as quickly was leaving. He had everything he needed; all that was left was to rejoin his group.

"Who and what are you, anyway?" Jakotsu asked as the both of them started walking again. The boy didn't so much as look up at him as he cryptically denoted himself as one of this Naraku person's servants, and that his name didn't matter. Noting the boy's garb, Jakotsu thought for a moment. "You a ninja or something?"

"No." The answer was exuding annoyance.

Jakotsu smiled. "You sure? 'Cause you look like a ninja to me... ninja boy."

"I'm not a ninja."

This time Jakotsu could see the irritation building up in his shorter companion as well.

"Then what are you?"

No answer. It seemed the boy was ignoring him. Jakotsu decided to shrug it off for now. He could pester the kid later.

He glanced at the strange sickle weapon hanging from the boy's waist. How old was this kid, anyway? How well could he handle a weapon like that?

These ponderings were making Jakotsu think back to his own childhood days. He'd been using swords since he was six, but it had taken years of practice before he had gained any significant battle skills. He knew from personal experience that it was never a good idea to underestimate others based on looks. Too many had fallen at his feet because they'd taken him for a frail, weak being. The remembrance of their blood staining his various weapons over the years made him snicker.

Jakotsu stopped along the side of the path, pressing his lips into a thin smile as he took a deep breath of fresh forest air. "Hey, ninja boy."

The boy jerked around, visibly perturbed. "Will you please stop calling me that? I am not, nor have I ever been, a ninja."

Jakotsu's smile widened. "Let me see that weapon of yours, would you?"

"No. Now, let's get going."

But Jakotsu sidled over to the boy before going down on one knee in order to be at eyelevel with him. The boy stilled, eyes widening slightly. "Let me see that weapon," Jakotsu threatened sweetly, "or I will kiss you." He licked his red-painted lips for good measure.

As expected, the boy seemed to choke on his breath for a moment, shoulders tensing immeasurably, before averting his gaze somewhere less... threatening, Jakotsu presumed. As also expected, the boy's hand went for the handle of the sickle, but what Jakotsu hadn't expected was to feel the dull silver-white blade pressing against his throat in what seemed like a split second.

This boy was good, Jakotsu realised even as he smiled. Frighteningly good. He'd been through much training. It reminded him of himself when he was probably nine or ten. But it was still nothing compared to what he was like now. If he had figured the boy had any intention of applying more pressure with his weapon, he might have struck back to defend himself, possibly to cut him down. As it was, though, the only way he could interpret this exchange was as some sort of grudging display of self-reliance.

The boy was of absolutely no threat to him. He could easily be cut down if need be.

"Is that a close enough look for you?" the boy asked nonchalantly, turning his head slightly so that their eyes could meet.

"Yes," Jakotsu replied serenely, sending his right hand for the handle of his still-sheathed Jakotsutou in its violet snakeskin sheath while the left went for the boy's chin. "Yes, it's plenty a good look." He leered a little closer. "You're not so bad yourself, ninja boy."

Though it was obvious the boy felt uncomfortable from the way his eyes wavered and flitted around distractedly, Jakotsu had to pride him for managing to keep his voice calm as he lowered the kusarigama and answered, "Stop calling me a ninja. And... thank you. I think."

"That blade of yours," Jakotsu continued, pulling his own out for show, "looks awfully clean, though, don't you think?" He tilted the handle so the blade shone blindingly, then angled it toward himself so that the blade could act as a mirror. "I think maybe it needs a good coat of blood."

The boy stiffened even moreso, if it were possible. "I prefer the clean look."

Jakotsu chuckled softly as he rose to his full height, towering over his child-sized guide. "Perhaps so. How old are you?"

There was an uncertain look on the boy's face for a moment as he thought, and then... "Eleven."

There was a gleam in Jakotsu's eyes. "And what are you, then, if you're not a ninja?"

"I..." The boy seemed to look embarrassed. "...I don't know."

Amused, Jakotsu smirked. What a way to pass the time till they'd meet with the others. "So then," he said offhandedly as he began walking again, swinging his sword in a wide arc before putting it back, the boy trotting behind after a moment, "if you don't know, then how do you know you're no ninja? You look like one, and-"

"I just know," came the boy's reply, low and grating.

Jakotsu just nodded and kept on walking, and for several minutes the two traveled in relative silence, until Jakotsu suddenly remembered. "Hey, if this Naraku guy is the one hiring us, who are the targets he wants us to kill?" The boy quietly began to name and describe a number of figures.

At the mention of a strange name, Jakotsu's ears perked up. "Inuyasha?" He blinked.

That was a gorgeous name. Hopefully it was a man, equally gorgeous.

"Hey, ninja boy." He looked down at the boy, ignoring the fire in said boy's eyes at the continued nickname. He went starry-eyed, already in love. "Tell me more about this Inuyasha. Is he cute?"

The boy groaned.