InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Once Upon an Inuyoukai ❯ Return to Blood ( Chapter 11 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

I've now decided that muses or no, I'm going to write this bloody chapter. It's hard because it's a battle scene and I suck at those. Thanks so much to JenniferJ and Vega Sailor, my only faithful reviewers and therefore two of my favorite people ever. In acquiescence to your wishes, Vega Sailor, I think I'll include a little Sesshy side story in here. To liven it up a bit. And because I love him.

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C hapter XI: Return to Blood

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For the thousandth time that hour, he thanked all the gods, spirits, and miscellaneous spiritual entities he could think of that none of his court were there to see his humiliation. If anybody had seen this, he would have either killed himself or gone on a massive gore-stained rampage to eliminate everybody who might ever possibly find out. The reigning overlord of a full fourth of Japan, Taiyoukai of the West, the great, powerful and fearsome Inutaisho, was getting his hair done.

"But I'm so bored," she'd whined, in that pleading voice, accompanied by those limpid woodblack eyes begging so appealingly... Truth be told, he'd been just a little bit bored too, and the feel of little hands in his hair, tugging on his scalp, was very pleasant. He'd used to love it when Mai touched his hair, and if he closed his eyes and pretended just a little it was easy to feel her hands instead of the black haired not-her's.

"It's so soft," she marveled, stroking from his temples downwards. He had to struggle not to rumble-purr in pleasure. Some times the dog blood was a little stronger than usual, and something about being petted brought it out to the surface. He felt the inexplicable urge to wag his tail. Which, of course, he didn't have in human form. Ugh. Thank all the kami no one's here. But gods, it felt so wonderful. His eyes fluttered and rolled back into his head and he shivered.

"Thanks for letting me do this," she commented. "I love your hair. It's almost as long as mine. I don't know anybody with hair as long as mine. Do all dog youkai have such long hair? I've only ever seen you. Do other dog demons look like you? What does your son look like?" He suspected she was chattering to take her mind off the painful conversation of the night before, but her voice was not unpleasant so he made no move to correct her. Neither did he answer her.

Since last night, he'd come to an uneasy peace with himself. The conflict was still there, she was still human so it would always be there. And he was still youkai. He did not love her, but after finding his attraction to her too powerful to simply excise, he'd decided to let it be. It was there. But he would not indulge it. He had more honour than that. So he sat, seiza on a cave floor above a dying castle with a beautiful woman stroking him. There were worse ways to spend three days. He sat and wanted very much to touch her, mark her as his own. Wanted, observed the want, and refused himself. The gulf was too wide, Mai's death still too recent. She was human, he was youkai, and that was all there was to it. End of story.

Her hands felt indescribable tangled in his moonwhite hair. He simultaneously wished that she'd stop before the wanting became too much, and that she'd never, ever stop.

As it turned out, fate was kind to him. He smelled the youki on the wind only moments before he heard them. Instantly on battle footing, he lunged to his feet and drew his longsword. Izayoi, startled, flew backwards and landed uncomfortably splay-legged on the stone. He'd already forgotten about her, lost in instinctual focus. A party of youkai, Southern. About thirty of them. His grip tightened on the leather-wrapped hilt and he stole towards the cave entrance, peering around the corner stealthily. Now he had visual confirmation of what his ears had told him. Damn.

"Get back," he absently warned Izayoi. She nodded, no stranger to battle, and silently padded to the back of the cave. The youkai were directly beneath the stone ledge that jutted out from the cave entrance. He crouched above them, loose hair stirring in the damp wind. A battle wind, warm as blood. Silent, he leapt from the ledge and fell among them, death in red and black. His right hand manipulated the length of the sword expertly, no movement wasted as it flickered through skin and muscle, bone and cartilage. His left hand, glowing with noisome verdigris, left poison wherever it alighted. Before he had time to inhale again, eleven of them were dead. The rest were stunned, unable to process the black streak that was felling them three to an eyeblink.

Ah, death. It was such a comfortable place for him. This, he knew. Human women with bistre eyes and entrancing smiles may be confusing, and court politics may be mystifying, but blood and slaughter were always simple. There was something so deeply primal and basic about ripping something's throat out that required no thought or explanation. This was what he was designed for. Turn, duck, slice. Leap, parry, stab. Nothing confounding or difficult to understand in the language of blood.

There were five left when the clever knife found him. The tiny rat youkai he had thought to be dead stood behind him, last breath soughing from its lungs as it pushed the long blade deeper between Inutaisho's ribs. He howled in agony, knowing the keen tip had found his heart. As it fell, the rat dragged the knife along his rib scrapingly, opening a gaping wound in the side of his chest. A flicker of fear skittered through Inutaisho. The wound alone would not kill him, but he could feel his blood leaking out at an alarming rate, weakening him. He faltered. The attacking youkai grinned and redoubled their attack.

Four left. Mustering his strength, he killed another, claws thrust up through the soft throat into the braincase, squelching sickeningly. Too slow, too slow! How had the youkai gotten so fast? Not fast, he realized, feeling his strength drain away. I am slowing. Another knife found its mark in his upper thigh, cutting deeply and severing the artery. He could not even kill the offending youkai- it seemed impossibly fast to his dimming eyes. It would take long days to recover from these wounds. If I survive. It seemed unthinkable to lose to a bunch of low level soldier demons, but all it took was one lucky hit and even a great demon such as himself could be taken down if enough were left alive to finish the job.

There were still three left, all unharmed, and his legs were beginning to shake. There was so much blood, and far too much of it his. The situation had become dire. He wished he'd transformed to his great dog form before the battle. The trees would have made it extremely difficult to move, however- though tiny to his transformed self, they were like stepping on nails. Very painful, and slowing. Too late now, in any case. He began to consider the possibility that he was going to die. I am coming, my love, he thought. Sesshoumaru. His son would grow up fatherless. Inutaisho wondered if the boy had the strength of spirit to keep the court in line after his death. He hoped so. His son was dear to him, despite his cold soul and indifferent attitude. Mentally, he apologized.

He began to compose his death poem as his vision began to go black. The woman. It did not matter, he realized, who he had to protect. His body was betraying him- no matter his fortitude or strength of will, he could not remain conscious. The last thing he saw was the leering face of a lizard youkai leaning over his kneeling form, sword clean and shining.

I am sorry, my son.

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Sessh oumaru glared murderously at the courtier before him. When he'd gotten word of his father's unexpected, unnannounced departure, he'd rushed immediately home from the summer palace, where he'd been keeping order as practice. He was still young, not quite mature, a mere three hundred years old. But he was uncommonly intelligent, and had a special glare that had the effect of instantly withering anyone he turned it on. Except for women, who seemed to think it was attractive. The courtier was not a woman, and consequently was nearing wetting himself as Sesshoumaru fixed the infamous stare on his trembling form.

"Am I to understand," he snarled, low and lethal, "that you imbeciles have taken the departure of my father to be cause for celebration?" The youkai, who was acting manager of the palace in Inutaisho's absence, let out a keening sound that Sesshoumaru conveniently interpreted as a 'yes.' "I should give you the death of a thousand cuts for your insolence," he breathed. "What is this? How dare you disrespect my father so?"

All around them, the drunken revelry continued unabated. He had not yet been noticed. The compound was in a shambles, detritus of the celebration lying about everywhere without a maid in sight.

"Tell me," he asked, almost conversationally, turning his side to the violently terrified manager, "what was the reason for this..." his face wrinkled distastefully "ridiculous and humiliating behaviour?"

"My lord.. please... forgive me!" A cold golden eye turned in his head to regard the youkai.

"Answer the question."

"My lord... in the last few years, Inutaisho has permitted these celebrations periodically. To keep up morale." Sesshoumaru's eyebrow raised incredulously.

"This... disgusting excess... was permitted? My father must have taken my mother's death harder than I thought." He looked around. "I want everything returned to order by tomorrow morning. Am I making myself clear?" The demon nodded with his whole body, giving the unfortunate appearance of having a seizure.

"Yes milord! Absolutely!"

"Good. Get out."

"Yes milord!" The youkai fairly fled, running into the shoji and nearly tearing it out of its groove on his way out. Sesshoumaru sighed.

"Why does my father surround himself with such idiots?" he wondered out loud. "It's disgraceful." He settled back into the cushions, the hair he inherited from his father pooling over the brocaded silk. The castle would be back under control by the next day. Sesshoumaru liked to run a tight ship, liked it when things were clean, efficient, and orderly. Give him two days, and the proper respect would also be restored. He sighed. Why had his father allowed things to become so lax? The job before his son was formidable.

Of course, Sesshoumaru knew nothing of Izayoi or her vision. And so he knew nothing of the danger he was in. The traitor lurked in the shadows, eyes gleaming yellowly in fury. The brat had returned. That was not in its plans. But then again, its plans had been going very badly lately. First that accursed human woman shows up and he leaves, the day before its assassination plan would come to fruition. It hated seers. And now... the hated taiyoukai's even more irritating son was here, making trouble and interfering with its schemes. Curse the whelp for his filial loyalty!

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His son was still on his mind when Inutaisho awoke, like the last thought had waited for his consciousness to catch up before finishing. Then he became aware of an extraordinary, utterly unexplainable fact.

He was still alive. How? Why? Perhaps he was dead, after all, and the Buddhists were wrong about samsara, the wheel of eternal death and rebirth. Perhaps death really was just a formless blackness, truly empty and endless.

But nothingness did not have pain, and he could still clearly feel the dull, angry pain of his wounds in his chest and leg. Since spirits did not have chests or legs, or pain at all, he felt safe assuming he was alive. And nothingness did not have the smell of wildflowers or the sound of even, exhausted breathing. He discovered he still had eyes, and opened them.

Across his midriff lay Izayoi, covered in blood and sleeping the dreamless sleep of the truly drained. Her haori was in shreds. A moment later, he discovered the reason for that- the missing strips were tightly bound around his wounds. They were in the cave, on the furs. Somehow. The puzzle grew larger yet. He was alive, and so was she. An enormous mystery on its own. And they were in the cave, neatly bandaged and sleeping. How...?

She stirred, rolling in her sleep to rest her head on his wounded chest. He yowled and rocketed to his feet, immediately regretting it as his thin blood rushed to his head and the world tipped sideways. The impact with the cave floor hurt very much, and so he lay there for a few moments quietly trying not to scream. Izayoi was now awake, and shrieking fit to wake the dead. Perhaps I died, and she screamed like that? he thought dizzily.

She stopped shrieking, apparently having assessed the situation and calmed down. He sat up and looked at her reproachfully. They stared at eachother for a second, and then she burst into messy tears and flung herself at him, careful to avoid his wounds. "You're awake!" she cried into his shoulder. "Thank the kami!" Eyes wide, he frantically tried to decide what to do.

"Ah..."

"Sorry!" She pulled back instantly, looking mortified. "I'm sorry. I was just so glad to see you alive. I wasn't sure..." He waved her off.

"No need to apologize. What happened?"

"Well..."

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She saw the knife reach its mark, her cry of warning too soft to pierce the cacophony of battle. He staggered, howling inhumanly. It took only a moment to realize what the probable outcome would be from there. So Izayoi found her courage, ran back into the cave, and got her bow.

Her first arrow took the youkai through the throat, and it dropped without a sound. Their heads snapped up and espied her. Fear beat its wings behind her ribs, but she held firm and drew the next arrow. It missed, only catching the snarling demon in the leg. It slowed it, though, which was probably the only thing that saved her. The final youkai passed the limping second, bounding up to the ledge and leaping for her throat. Beyond fear, beyond screaming, she drew her dagger and desperately held it before her. The airborne youkai bore down on her and she shut her eyes, death looming large as the youkai's shadow.

Then it was dead, her knife buried in its heart. Somehow. The last youkai, the wounded one, finally made it up to the ledge and snarled at her. From the depths of her fear, a miracle blossomed.

Anger.

It burgeoned from deep within her, washing away the fear like driftwood on the tide. She gritted her teeth and glared at the very suprised demon.

She picked up her bow again and smoothly drew an arrow. "Piss off," she snapped, and fired. It went in cleanly through the eye, and the demon dropped like a stone, to her immense gratification. "Hah! I showed you!" she cried, elated and adrenaline-high.

A moan from below brought her back to reality. "Inutaisho!"

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"Do you have any idea how heavy you are?" she asked. "And before you say it, you're welcome." He had indeed been about to open his mouth to thank her for saving his life. "You weigh a lot," she informed him. "It took me an hour to drag you up here out of the rain. You owe me one." He raised an eyebrow.

"Owe you one?" he echoed. She nodded.

"That's twice now I've saved your life," she reminded him.

"Twice?" This time was fairly obvious, but he could not remember another. "And would that not make us even, since I spared you when we first met and saved you later?" Her disgruntled look told him that she had been hoping he wouldn't remember that. Suddenly, her expression brightened.

"But you were compelled by magic, so it doesn't count," she reasoned. "It was really the spellcaster protecting me, not you. So you still owe me."

"I do not recall a second time. When did you save me before?
"In your palace. If I hadn't gotten there when I did, the traitor would have made his move and you would be dead. That was the other part of my vision." He stared at her. So... he had not only the safety of his kingdom to thank her for, but apparently his life. Twice now. It was a strange feeling, being indebted. Especially to a human.

"Why did you not tell me of this?" he asked, struggling with it.

"Well, because I got there in time to prevent it. Since it didn't happen and wasn't going to, I didn't see any need to inform you." It made a twisted sort of sense. He chalked it up to her being a woman and let it go.

"So I ... owe you one. What exactly does that entail?" She rocked back on her heels and laid a finger on her full lips.

"Hmm. I suppose it means that if I ever get in a life-threatening situation, it would be honourable to save me." A wicked smile spread across her face. "Alternately, you could just owe me an undefined favour at a time of my choosing." His eyebrow rose, mind wandering uselessly into realms of imagination. 'Favour' had many meanings, but his mind seemed very fond of one in particular. And besides, the 'favour' would be on her side, not his, so he would have to save her life several times to earn that... stop! Idiot!

"Hrrrmmmm," he grunted, hoping it sounded noncommittal enough. Apparently it was, for she dropped the train of thought and lay down on the furs, squirming until she was comfortable, face a scant foot from his.

"If this is only the second day, what's tomorrow going to be like?" she mused.

He didn't want to know. So he lay down and dove into sleep to escape the wild scenarios his helpful mind was now conjuring of flying gore and bare skin. Sleep! Now! he thought frantically, and was pathetically grateful when the blackness swallowed him.

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Whee! That was fun to write. Wasn't as hard as I thought it was going to be. Sess's side story is started now (oooh... alliteration) and I think he'll actually have a decent part in this. Yay! I love Sesshoumaru. Pretty.

Isn't Izayoi cool? I have this awesome image in my head of her telling the demon to piss off and shooting, her hair flying and her eyes all narrow and angry... it's a great image. Too bad I can't draw to save my life. Hey, if anybody's into fanart... pretty please? Please please? Cherry on top? You can make the demon whatever you want... I left it blank on purpose so you guys can imagine whatever horrific warty pusfaced slimeball you want. Pleasepleasepleaseplease!!! I would love you forever to eternity and beyond if you draw this for you! I'll dedicate a story to you! About whatever you want! (Insert whatever bribe would convince you fanartists HERE) So yeah. Please. Chapter XII should be up day after tomorrow since I don't have school tomorrow. Cheers! Oyasumi nasai!