InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Perfection's Descent ❯ Choice ( Chapter 1 )

AN: I love Kikyou. XD

 

 

Perfection's Descent

Chapter One: Choice

 

 

The forest was dense and dark, a heavy canopy of flourishing life hidden beneath faint shadows. On a winding trail crawling its way through the woods in maze-like formation, a man strode quietly and swiftly, his movements graceful and planned. His eyes, a molten gold, seemed to shimmer with some unknown power, piercing through the darkness with perceptive awareness. He headed east, following a path well worn into the ages. Behind him, a small tiny green creature toddled, stubby legs disturbing the foliage as he struggled to keep up with his master.

 

"Sesshoumaru-sama…" Jaken panted, hiking his staff up higher on his tiny shoulder. "Sesshoumaru-sama, wait for me!"

 

The silver-haired youkai did not seem to hear, his response nothing but the same steady tempo of his footfalls. The toad youkai scrambled faster, his small robes tangling beneath him. "Sesshoumaru-sama!" he called again, his voice somewhat squeaky. He did not notice the man stop abruptly, too intent on keeping himself from tripping on his robes.

 

"Sesshoum--- ommph!!!"

 

With a loud squawk, Jaken bumped into his lord's legs and tumbled backwards in a floundering heap. His limbs splayed in all directions and his small green cap fell over his eyes. Seeing only darkness, he began to panic "Ahh!!! I'm blind! I'm blind!! Sesshoumaru-sama, help me!!" He twitched before struggling faster to untangle himself from the ground.

 

The inu youkai, however, did not even bother to react, instead lifting his nose to the air and giving a tentive sniff. Turning his back on the pitiful toad youkai, the tall and powerful lord narrowed his slitted eyes a fraction, identifying the smell of heavy thick smoke on the southern winds that invaded his delicate senses. A fire of some sorts most likely, one that had probably gotten out of hand. It had been a problem he had found irritating as of late; it was not an uncommon occurrence for it was autumn and everything was dry and brittle.

 

His lip twitched downward in what might have been a frown. Common or not, the moment the scent had infiltrated his sense the hairs on the nape of his neck rose in alarm. His instincts told him that some how, their was an under current of something not all together natural…

 

Many chose not to rely on their instincts, but he was surely not one of them. Taking a step to his right, ignoring the sudden crunch and squawk of pain coming from under his placed foot, Sesshoumaru, Lord of the Western lands, gazed into the thick forest around him guardedly. There was something peculiar in the air…

 

But what was it?

 

The woods were silent, undisturbed. Sesshoumaru's pointed ear twitched, listening beyond the pained mutters of his toad-like retainer for the sounds of birds, of animals, of nature.

 

Nothing. There was nothing.

 

Strange. With the smallest of shift in his features, the youkai breathed in again, this time overly conscious of even the slightest degree of scent that was unusual to a forest fire. His nostrils flared briefly as the fumes of burnt wood, dead leaves, and rotting sewage lingered beneath the earlier smoke, signs of a burning village. Even as he began to sift through the different smells meticulously, the tiniest of furrows appeared on the great lord's brow. A village. What was a village doing near such a high youkai infested mountain rang—

Sesshoumaru cut his thought short abruptly as a tingling registered in his senses. Through the fog of smells, he found what he had been looking for. Faintly, only barely there enough to detect, was the trace of…energy. Neither youki nor jyaki, but still unmistakably familiar…

 

He prepared to turn back up the path, flicking his long thick silver hair over his shoulder. If humans had anything to do with this fire, he would have no part in putting it out. As long as his lands were scoured of any youkai threat to his ancestral home and his title, he did not particularly care of what else happened. If nature burned in flame, it would only replenish itself over time. It was the humans he did not care for.

 

Let them burn for their mistakes.

 

Sesshoumaru dug his heel deeper into the toad youkai's skull, before stepping off lightly. "Jaken. We are leaving." The toad gave a muffled squawk in response, before scrambling to his feet. As the lord youkai began to walk away, Jaken quickly scuttled after him. The small youkai cast a quick curious glance over his shoulder as he tried desperately to brush off the dirt encrusted on his robes.

 

"Sesshoumaru-sama…Sesshoumaru-sama what was so important that it caught your esteemed attention?" he asked, staring after his master with large bulbous eyes.

 

Sesshoumaru did not look back. "It was nothing."

 

As if on cue, the moment the words left his mouth an eastern wind swept through the trees from behind them. Sesshoumaru stopped abruptly once more, startling Jaken into another tumble of limbs and curses. This time however, a scent much more distinguishable and much more poignant made itself known. With it, came an overpowering wave of jyaki.

 

Even Jaken felt it, freezing in place. Sesshoumaru tilted his head slightly to the side, listening carefully for something. If he had found what he had been listening for or not, he gave no indication as suddenly, he was walking back eastward.

 

"Jaken, stay here," he commanded. Without waiting for a response, he was a blur of white streaking down the well worn path, heading south east towards the mountains that made up the central border separating the Western and Eastern lands.

 

Naraku was toying with him again, letting the Western Lord catch his scent on the evening wind. Nevertheless, whether this display was to trick the inu youkai, or to lure him into some planned scheme, Sesshoumaru cared not. Games meant nothing to him, and most specifically Naraku's.

 

It was time to put the abomination in it's place, along with the rest of the damned hanyou race.

 

'To think that this Sesshoumaru is such a fool is a mistake that will cost you your life.'

 

--

 

The sun had already begun to set by the time Sesshoumaru had made his way from the far west of his territory to the eastern border and into the small valley overshadowed by the tall craggy mountains. It hadn't been that hard to find; the stench of human and burning wood seemed to fabricate before him out of nowhere, pointing forward with an invisible finger and prodding him into the right direction. Without the burden of companionship or the aimless need to wander, his travel was relatively quick and hindrance free.

 

Much like his younger brother, the youkai had taken to the treetops, loping easily from one branch to another in pursuit of his unseen prey. It was a convenient location to be in when hunting, for not only was it easier to catch the scent of quarry from above, but many times the prey was oblivious to the chance that a predator was stalking from such a high place. And because the eastern wind was riding towards him, instead of the direction he was headed, Sesshoumaru was perfectly camouflaged from the Naraku's awareness.

 

Unlike Inuyasha though, who was such a combined mix of youkai and human that he used his instincts like a dog hunting savagely in hunger for food and battle, Sesshoumaru would never not stoop so low as to attack the turned backs of his enemies. If he were to fight, even one such as Naraku, he would fight on fair ground.

 

Scenting the air absently, Sesshoumaru gave a tiny scoff as smog began to try and fester in his lungs, a mild irritation but a hindrance non-the less.

 

The smell of smoke had only intensified as he came closer, interlaced in faint traces of Naraku's jyaki and that one unrecognizable chi that he couldn't quite name. It bothered him somewhat that he did not know what it was, but for the time being it mattered little. His main concern was Naraku, who had been as of late stirring up trouble in every way, shape, and form in all directions of Japan. But for reasons unknown to the youkai, the hanyou seemed most active in the western lands, where he hounded Inuyasha, his impudent half-breed brother, and his little group insistently.

 

Sesshoumaru finally began to slow his pace, taking notice as the trees around him began to change from large red and gold blurs to more distinguishable shapes. It was not that much farther from the village, he noted, as suddenly he could see the air was thick and heavy with black smoke beneath him. Twining in small curling spirals, it was slowly beginning to rise up to his canopy level. Finally coming to a stop on a thick sturdy branch of a large tree, Sesshoumaru looked down at the miasmic-like cloud of smog and jumped swiftly downward, his hair whipping wildly behind him as he descended into what must be the village clearing he had been looking for.

 

He landed swiftly, and looked up into the burning mouth of a disaster.

 

Fire. Red, blazing, passion-inflamed fire was burning everywhere. In the trees, in the field, on the paths, in every nook and cranny and blade of grass. Fueled by an unknown source, the fire was alive and completely unnatural. No fire he had seen had ever flickered so animatedly like this one did. And ahead, towering in the sky like a large bonfire through the smoky haze, burned what once had been a village.

 

It stank of the scent of Naraku.

 

Lifting an arm to cover his sensitive nose from the intense smoke, Sesshoumaru narrowed his eyes and stepped forward. The grass beneath his feet crunched, sparks crackling in all directions. Slowly, he advanced, staying close but just far enough to the border of burning trees overhead. He ignored the white-hot vines of fire that licked at his legs and arms, not caring if they burned him. It was a minor consequence.

The burning buildings loomed ahead of him, strangely tall in the blackening smog. And sifting through it all, entwined with the jyaki, was that vaguely familiar energy…

 

A dangerous creak sounded above him. With a powerful push of his legs, Sesshoumaru moved to the side just as a burning branch hazardously dropped above the spot he had stood moments before. Instantly his hand darted out, slicing through the thick bough with ease, and it fell to the floor, cut neatly in two. Landing gracefully, Sesshoumaru cast a wary eye around the plain, before breathing out in somewhat of a snort and continuing on.

 

It was strange. This fire had been burning for hours now, a fire the hottest he had ever felt, and yet it had only just barely begun to turn its victims to ash…

 

Suddenly, he could hear the sounds of wheezing, of choked breath.

 

"Help…me…"

 

Sesshoumaru paused abruptly. Turning his head to the side just barely, his eyes flickered to his left, catching a crouched dark figure crawling on hands and knees towards him.

 

It took him a moment to adjust his eyes to the thick smoke surrounding her, but when he did what he saw made the hairs on his neck stand on end.

 

It was an old human woman. Long thick fistfuls of grey hair bunched around knobby shoulders, the length cut irregularly and choppy. Portions of a ragged burnt kimono hung limply on her skeletal form, parts of his still lit on fire. Bony white hands clutched at the earth, large pockets of charred scars burning black on her patchy skin, and a deep, sallow, sunken face creased in wrinkles stared up at him, desperation clinging fearfully to her expression. Concealed by the smoke, ugly, disgusting, dying, she lay burning on the ground, her head lifted and fingers outstretched.

 

But it wasn't her state of health or her filthy and revolting begging that sent his nerves tingling and his instincts in a rage.

 

It was her eyes.

 

Youthful, poignant, watery, beautiful deep dark eyes that peered up at him mysteriously, not at all fitting the body they rested in. And swimming beneath, something seemed to shimmer, some unknown force that he could not distinguish…

 

"Help…me…" the woman gasped again, closing her thin veined eyelids and hiding that strange moist gaze. With a struggle, she crawled forward, a bloody burnt hand reaching out to grasp the youkai's white pant leg. Sesshoumaru stared down at her pitiful form curiously.

 

Suddenly, everything seemed to move in slow motion. For that split second, he saw the hand move towards him, saw the fear and desperation on the woman's face so clearly. She needed to be rescued, wanted to be rescued, was searching for help in any way, shape, or form. He watched as a crooked jaunting old finger reached out, a hairbreadth away from the white fabric of his one whole pant leg.

 

Golden eyes flashed. With a sickening crack, his hand lashed out, piercing the woman's chest cavity before she could so much as touch him. Bone broke, flesh tore, blood splurged everywhere. The woman gave a half scream half gargle. Time sped up again.

 

With a hard, expressionless face, Sesshoumaru pulled his hand out of the woman's body. Her body spasmed, before dropping to the floor with a thud. Letting the bloody arm hang limply at his side, he gazed down at the gasping woman before turning away.

 

"It is no concern of mine."

 

Behind him, the woman's body stilled, blood pooling around her silent form. Her hand dropped with a thud to the floor, still outstretched. The fire seemed to surround her, reaching out with white-hot tendrils to enclose the carcass into ash. Sesshoumaru turned his attention back to his destination, the center of the clearing, where the jyaki seemed to swarm most fervently.

 

Suddenly, the dead woman's body twitched behind him. A small bitter smile carved itself into thin, chapped lips, spiteful even in such a burnt ugly face. The outstretched arm retracted silently from where it fell, cradling close to her open chest, and with her other arm, she pushed herself up, her legs curling underneath her hunched body without a sound. Those once large, deep brown eyes opened.

 

They were stone hard, burning with a black ugly hatred.

 

Slowly, the corpse of a body began to change. The long thick strands of grey-white hair began to change and lengthen, darkening in color from pale, to brown, to black. The black scars and marks on her arms and legs begin to shrink and then fade into pinkish, flawless skin and the creases on her face began to disappear, smoothing out into youthful perfection. The thin of her bony hands began to fill out, taking on the look of whole and health. The ragged torn of her kimono begin to glow and mend itself quickly into the thick robes of a priestess.

 

Through it all, those dark, rippling eyes never changed. And their gaze did not falter, focused solely on the figure in white who was walking away.

 

"Sesshoumaru. Means "a destruction of life" does it not?" She called out suddenly. The voice was young, strong, hateful, and the words whipped in the air, suddenly louder then the roaring of the fire. "You live up to it well."

 

Sesshoumaru froze, his shoulders stiff. From behind him, Kikyou pushed herself gracefully to her feet. Her penetrating gaze never left his back.

 

"As I had thought, you are nothing without your name. You, such a powerful great lord, are a simple ingrate who has never understood the true worth of life. You toy with it, you capitalize on it, you take advantage of it, but you know nothing of it." Her voice was poised in contempt. "You believe that this world owes you something, that its people should know your name regardless of your ways to obtain it." Her steps were light as she moved towards him, her face in contrast dark. "You desire strength and power, like all of the fools in this world."

 

"Do not categorize this Sesshoumaru," he growled out warningly. "You nothing of which you speak."

 

She laughed then. "Oh, but I know more then you think about you and your ways."

 

The hatred in her eyes made her ugly.

 

"You are almost as bad as Naraku." Her voice was filled with disgust.

 

Suddenly, Sesshoumaru whirled around, his eyes ablaze a feral red. "Do not mock me."

 

A bitter smirk crossed her delicate face. "And you are just as bad as Inuyasha."

 

He struck at her in an instant, his claws gleaming green with poison. But as his fingers came only a hairbreadth from her face he was repelled, his hand instead striking against some sort of barrier. Pulling back, part of his hand singed black, the youkai turned glowing red eyes onto the miko.

 

She returned his glare with her own icy one.

 

"You deny it. Deny it to everyone, deny it to yourself. But you know. You know why you don't have the heart to kill your brother just yet." Her face darkened impossibly more. "Because blood ties to blood, does it not?"

 

Sesshoumaru snarled.

 

"I do not care for that whelp. I do not care whether he lives or dies or burns in hell. He is no blood of mine, he does not deserve it!" His voice was sharp. The purple marks slashed across his cheeks burned brightly underneath his blood red eyes. Crackles of power began to fizz in the air, lifting his thick bangs from his face eerily.

 

He was livid.

 

Kikyou scoffed in contempt. "The dead know, Sesshoumaru. They know more then you believe." A bitter smirk crossed her pale face then. "Because if what you say is true, then why is he still alive?"

Sesshoumaru's eyes flashed. And then. with an explosion of crackling power, he struck out once more, his hand a blur.

 

His power clashed with hers, bright and intense through the dark smoke. Crackles of blue and gold light spasmed and exploded around them, causing the very ground beneath them to rumble. The force of the collision whipped the strands of thick black and silver hair in all directions. Sesshoumaru pushed forward, ignoring the pain in his hand in his pursuit to kill the woman who dared challenge him. Their eyes met, red-gold against brown, each filled with rage, disgust, and hatred. Hatred for each other, hatred for themselves, hatred for the world; more emotion then either had ever expressed before.

 

But it was the eyes of the miko, which burned with far more hatred.

 

Suddenly she laughed, a bitter and harsh laugh, lifting her hands in front of her and splaying her fingers. More energy, more rippling fire blue power, began to gather, spinning spherically in between them. For a split second, everything began to waver around them, the fire, the trees, the field. Ignoring this, Sesshoumaru pushed forward angrily, pressing a pocket of the barrier back in his rage. It shimmered, beginning to cave underneath the intense pressure of his strength.

 

Kikyou's smirk was filled with spite. The sphere of blue power was huge, at its breaking point now. Her eyes bore into his, shining through the explosions of gold and blue.

 

"Don't forget," she said, her voice suddenly soft and intimate. "Don't forget about your oath, your heritage, your hesitance."

 

The sphere between them rippled, ready to burst.

 

"Because soon, you will be left with nothing."

 

It exploded. It rushed forward, pushing him back, submerging him completely within it. Everything around them began to flicker once more, but this time the fire,the trees, the plains, the burning buildings, all began evaporating, draining like liquid into an eternal expanse of white. The blue power began to push into his skin, driving the raw gold of his strength inside of him, deeper and deeper and deeper until it was nothing but a writhing ball of contorted energy encased in a blue translucent shell.

 

She was compressing him, he realized faintly through the white-hot pain racing through his every nerve and cell and inch of skin. His body began to shimmer, the source of his strength glimmering visibly for all to see, before ever so slowly it began to drain into that ball of power burning deep in his chest, leeching off every speck of youki that made him a youkai.

 

And then the feeling of his body being torn apart shattered any and all thought.

 

His surroundings began to blur, shift, an ocean of colors suddenly swamping his vision. And then first stage of his transition began. The tips of his hair began to color, morphing from silver to grey to black, and like a disease it began to wind its way through his thick strands, trailing from his mid back and crawling along his scalp. His one arm began to spasm, the winding strips of purple shrinking into pale unmarred skin, his claws beginning to dull and shorten. His head was thrown back, the muscles thick and jerking as the slashes on his face began to fade and a primal roar escaped his mouth as the armor bore on his shoulder cracked before splintering into tiny fragmented pieces. His red eyes burned brightly, almost catching the air on fire, his mouth open and dull teeth bared.

 

Suddenly the large ball of power inside him gave one last lurch before the world came crashing down on his head.

 

And out of nowhere, he suddenly found himself falling.

 

His crimson red eyes faded slowly, and his body hit solid dirt with a thud. Oxygen flooded into his mouth, down his throat and into his lungs, almost choking him. A monstrous blackness hovered near the edge of his perception, overbearing and repressive, trying to cave in around him, but he fought it off desperately; he had to find out where he was. His bright golden eyes forced themselves to open, trying to focus on anything, anything at all.

 

Slowly, painfully, his vision began to clear. Tiny white spots chasing the darkness in his eyes, and through the gaps of light he could see glimpses of the world beyond. However, once his eyes began to take in sharper, clearer images, what he saw made no sense. Dirt, grass, a well-worn path. Tall trees, flowers, a field. A village, cradled in the arms of the mountains, the dark cover of twilight. All whole, green and not burning.

 

What had happened?

 

Confused, the youkai tried to push himself up—

 

And failed. Pain suddenly erupted through him and the straining arm trying to lift him dropped heavily in exhaustion. A faint exhale, not even a groan, escaped his lips. Turning his head, Sesshoumaru tried to sniff, to catch a scent of something out of the ordinary. Surely he wasn't that far off from where he had—

 

Nothing. It was like he could smell nothing. The smells of the grass and the dirt underneath him where all he could smell and even then it was so…so faint. As if some sort of filter was blocking out most of the air. He couldn't…couldn't tell what was wrong, what was going on, couldn't use his nose properly…

 

Something inside him, a very small, tiny something, began to panic. He ignored it. Instead, with slow, with excruciating care, Sesshoumaru tried once more to push himself up. A slight furrow creased on his forehead as he strained strangely aching muscles. With deep concentration he looked down, determined to—

 

His golden gaze fell to his hand and he almost dropped to the ground once more in shock. There, instead of his usual pale skin and claws, was a pink skinned, dull nailed human-like hand.

 

Suddenly Kikyou's voice whispered softly into his round ear, carried by a caressing wind. It wound its way through his black hair and across his face, gentle and rough at the same time.

 

"Higan no chu-nichi has begun…and left you behind. No longer feared as the predator, but hunted as the prey. A powerless being trapped in a youkai body just as helpless as a humans…until the next equinox, what will become of you?" The voice was light, mocking. Sesshoumaru stiffened.

 

There was a small, somewhat subdued laugh, before he felt the caress of invisible fingers trailing across his face. "After all, how can the Great Lord Youkai of the Western Lands govern his kingdom when all he no longer has to power to rule?"

 

The skin on his face burned where it had been mock touched. In an almost farewell, the wind washed over him completely before dissipating into the air.

 

Leaving a man with long black hair and deep gold eyes, to stare guardedly around him for the rest of the night with anger and confusion.

 

And maybe… just a tad bit of fear.

 

--

 

Not far off, in a worn beaten campgrounds a days journey away from Sesshoumaru, Kikyou, and the village in the mountains, a group of travelers lay unaware and asleep. Preparing for an expected battle that usually came with the detection of a jewel shard, five of the members slept quietly, reserving their strength for the morrow.

 

A houshi rested his back against a solid trunk of tree, his lip curled slightly in dreams. A taijya curled around her small feline youkai companion, both breathing softly in slumber. A hanyou slept above in the branches of the forest canopy, his treasured sword poking out from the crook of his arm. And a small kitsune pup cuddled close in the arms of a wide-awake girl from the future, snoring ever so slightly in her ear. The miko, the only one still awake, shifted restlessly, turning her blue-grey gaze to the sky in puzzlement at the dread that seemed to ball unsettlingly in the pit of her stomach.

 

Why do I feel this way, she asked the stars, but as for answers, she would receive none this night.

 

For somewhere not very far, in a small dwelling high up near the base of the tall stony grey mountains, a solitary figure stood also, her pale face turned to the stars in quiet bitterness. Clutching a small, sparkling sliver of jewel in her hand, the dead miko closed her eyes and opened her mouth, letting her voice drift on the winds and up to the heavens.

 

"…And so the red string of fate is tangled once more…"

 

To those who were awake, the night was suddenly cold and very much lonely.