InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Points of View ❯ Chapter 1

A boy with a soft face stood by the river, taking in the appearance of the village being engulfed in flames, it was hot just standing there, it was sad that no one from the village was able to survive, except a young yokai, who was a little stricken, now that his whole family had been killed by the explosion, it was quite interesting that he wasn't crying. In fact he was smiling, that was a little odd, but then again who said yokai have a heart?

The boy looked on for a bit more, the smirk never left his face as he watched the huts fall into burned piles of wood, it was a pitiful sight. He turned away. The look in his eyes was one of hatred, one of plain deception. It was obvious he didn't care what had happened to the village, when the demon attacked.

`The people were fools, to think that I would help them' he whispered knowingly to himself. They were fools to think that after all they put him through that he would help them kill the demon. It was fairly large but it was hardly any stronger than him. It was stupid how they just whimpered in fear as they coward in the tiny corners of their houses, holding onto their children, in hope the demon would take pity on them and turn away. Only problem, demons don't have a heart to take pity on the weak, they just take what they need, than ravage the land for more. `I better go . . . it's pretty pointless to stay here now that the village is destroyed'

He turned and walked away, sparing no backward glance as he walked into the woods, disappearing into the darkness, as a little boy, a loner, or just a yokai looking for someone to love him, neither caring if they were ningen, hanyou or yokai . . .

Maybe I'll come back here he thought as he walked past the clinging branches of the age rotted trees, but then again, why would he come back to a place where all his childhood memories were a made a continuing nightmare.

That thought always tugged on his mind, bringing back the bad memories into his mind, making him seem heartless, but all who are heartless, had a heart to begin with, they just didn't have anyone to share their love with. His cold voice ran chills through all he met, his piercing blue eyes bore holes into their very souls, his very existence made everyone seem . . . nice, compared to him anyway.

There just wasn't anyone that was nice enough to take an ounce of their love and give it to some heartless yokai who no one loved, it was stupid to cry for Love, it was stupid to love, all love makes you feel is hurt, when no one returns it . . . but then again, who knows maybe they will return the love, and maybe just add a little content to the relationship, making it beneficial, or maybe they'll just pretend and when they get what they want, just tear your heart apart . . . piece by piece. But how would he know, there was a cold barrier around his heart, that stopped him from feeling any emotion towards anyone or anything, more important stopped anyone from feeling emotion towards him . . . if they did, he'd probably just push them away. That was the life of a yokai, no yokai had a relationship built on love, and it was always built on stature, never on emotional feelings towards each other, that was life, in his views anyway.

`Love is a weakness, that just ends up in hurt' he said to himself, walking further into the forest, ignoring the howling of the wolf yokai, and the clattering and spooky sounds the kitsune yokai were making. They think by making stupid sounds, that they'll be protected by their enemies, now that's false hope. He thought that with such malice that it was unbelievable that he was only ten. He smirked, then with a loud thrash of leaves and trees being broken, the clattering of the kitsune yokai, were all but a sound of memories, memories that would have lasted a lot longer if they were a little quieter as he passed.

Typical, the life of a yokai, always wandering in the world of the living and finally settling in their graves with the last passing millennium, they lived for a long time, but didn't contain immortality, just brute strength that passed on to their heirs, of their family, that didn't apply to loving.

His life contained nothing more than cold hatred and rejection, but why? He wasn't a hanyou, who was feared by humans, and called weak by demons. It didn't make sense, but then again, he was taken in by a girl, who passed away, gradually after he had come. Her family had treated him like he was the cause of her death. But she was the fool; he had been reluctant to come, because he didn't want to burden her with his flesh wounds, but she was so insistent that the pleading look in her eyes, told him she wouldn't leave him. It was hell when she left, and so were the following days.

A curse was laid upon him, that would stop him from coming to full power and destroying the village, that curse lay in the scar that ran through his left eye. It still hurt, and since the knife in which he was cut, was rubbed with human blood, it coursed through him, making him seem like a hanyou. Though he was a lot stronger . . . and all the more cold hearted.

When she had left him, he hadn't cried, all he knew was that her decent affection towards him, had brought forth feelings that weren't worth all they were. All he knew was that love was a weakness that brought forth hurt . . . left you open to the dangers of the battlefield and living and dying . . . it was reality.

The deep wounds of hurt always remained their, as scars of past love . . . they never left, they stayed, threatening you with the memories of how it feels, to feel hurt, rejection, reality. He never thought he'd never love again, but no one can control the passage of time and what it brings, and what it brings is hurt, love, caring, all the things one needs to make life complete . . . even if it hurt.

~*~

Life was different for a hanyou, feeling hurt everyday . . . was this reality, was this a dream? She didn't know. All she knew was it hurt . . . having no friends, she was lucky if she found one. If she found one, that was sure a once in a lifetime possibility, her mother was always there for her. A kind yokai mistress that took pity on ningen, and one day fell in love.

Her father had died on the battlefield, fighting for yokai honour, it was pathetic watching him take on the hoards of yokai as they charged, thrusting forth their swords, and releasing their arrows. Her father died a swift and painless death, or that's what it looked like to her anyway.

She hadn't known him very well, in fact, she was three when he died . . . she always cried when her mother told the story, her mother's voice brought forth detail, making it seem real, like as if you experienced it yourself, as if you were the one that was mourning for the man on that day.

Tears didn't come often for her; in fact they rarely came after her mother's assassination. It just didn't seem worth crying anymore, when there was no one to comfort you and make you laugh, when you were left in a bad mood.

It wasn't long after mistress Ayume's death that she had considered leaving, the palace and escaping into the wild, after all she was abnormally strong, she guessed it was her mother's demon blood, a dog yokai wasn't she? Well she didn't have enough time to think about it at the moment.

She looked down at the cat yokai that lay purring loudly on her lap, she smiled. `Go to sleep Tori' she whispered, rubbing the cats ears with the pads of her fingers. She sighed inwardly. `I wish we had something to do, besides look at the sun in the morning and in the evening' she said, looking at the sun dully, shading her eyes from the damaging light.

She missed the sweet smelling flowers from the garden, and the cool wind that came on a hot day; it was always cold up north. But it held decent warmth that warmed her heart. She missed it, but she also hated it, when she was there the higher yokai were always sneering at her, and making cutting remarks about her, and her father.

To her this life was a hundred times better than that of the palace with the loathsome yokai. Though there was that young maid, that seemed heartless on the outside, but had a heart of gold on the inside, but she wasn't actually a declared friend.

`You're my only friend, Tori . . .' she whispered, falling into a deep sleep underneath the gnarly oak, she was laying under.

She fell out of reality into a dream . . .

A dark figure was standing in the woods his piercing blue eyes shone through the dark shadows in the forest. She felt the cold chill of his voice, calling her name . . .

`Koharu . . .' the voice called again.

`What do you want?' she asked, backing into the darkness that surrounded her. `Who are you?!' she yelled, almost screaming.

Than she would wake up, and the dream would be nothing but distant memory, that she'd never remember, until it was once again, her nightmare. The reoccurring dream had never left the depths of her soul, the man was always there, but the man, was a child in reality, and soon to become that dream.

The dream was a secret that no one knew of, not even its beholder, with every passing night the dream became clearer, and more of it was kept, she knew it would be that way until she met that man, that had the piercing blue eyes, and the cold hearted voice, of a hanyou, but wasn't . . .

That was one of the nights she cried, the terror and mystery the dream had brought forth when it began getting clearer. It was a boy, not a man, his face was always cast in the shadows of the forest, did that mean, he was there watching her every step, or was it that he was a shadow, of what he once was . . . shadows were cold, and felt every deprivation of there former self, and succeeded in destroying emotion, until it was back into the light . . . it usually got there by help, love, friendship.

Tori had always kept her safe, but he wouldn't be able to keep her safe from her own self, the part of her soul that was demon, the part that yearned to come out into the light, and destroy the human heart inside her. She had a human heart and soul, but a part of her mind was that of a demon, it kept her from feeling to much emotion towards humans, and human part, kept her from rejecting them.

Her views on love were . . . that love made you feel happy, and safe, and like you have friends, who care fro you as much as you do for them. That's what love was in friendship. In a relationship, it was . . . blissful, full of happiness, content, romance, and all the things that had to do with love. You'd never regret meeting someone you once loved, it's just a feeling you get, it makes you feel happy, that you experienced what love offers, and at the end you can pick yourself up an have another go, and this time, it might last a lifetime . . . or just end up with you headfirst in the ground, but love lasts forever, it began with time, and time changes everything . . . time is a passage, which all breathing beings follow, everything that is living. It didn't matter if you seemed heartless, you still change with each passing second, ningen were first to die, than hanyou, and last were yokai . . . that was life, that was love, that was reality, in her views. Life had hurt, love, caring, rejection, family, rejoice . . . it had everything to make a life worth living in the first place.

~*~

He seemed weak, helpless, in everything that happened around him. But he felt a reason to live, to aid the weak, with power that was unseen. Power, it was what you needed to survive as a wandering monk, with yokai watching your every step, and attacking from the shadows. Pointless it seemed, to other people that watched the monk walk from village to village, taking refuge from inn keepers.

A monk didn't live by love; he lived by scripture, stories, powers, and simple ofuda paper. He could choose love, and settle down from his work, live a family. But this particular monk had had enough of love, and searched for adventure. Taking pride in what he did, and loving every second of it. He wished he was a hanyou, so he'd be able to have adventure and not hurt a single human soul.

His views on his life were that of a prince . . . seeming noble, adventurous, courageous, full of heart, and bitter determination . . . more like stubborn. He had everything he could have ever wanted, but what's everything? Was it being noble, adventurous, courageous, full of heart, and stubborn determination? No, that was only part of it, you needed love . . . and family, that's what made a life complete, being able to love, and loved back.

Did he really feel that strongly against falling in love, or was in the bitter thought of what would happen when it was gone, `I'm a fool' he whispered, tapping at his chin, nonchalantly. Was he a fool? For not believing in love, or was he just being normal, and being afraid of the consequences when it ended, when the feeling of utter heart ache, aroused new feelings and brought the old crashing down in one big pile, in the depths of his heart . . . everything changed, when love abandoned you with the terrible feelings at the end. The truth is you never stop loving, you can never stop love, you know it's coming, you know it's going to hurt . . . but no one can stop love, and the aftermath of total heart ache. As Koharu has said it, you just have to pick yourself up and have another go, that's what love was all about, mystery, you'll never know until you try it.

That was love, that was life, in three points of view . . . ningen, hanyou, and yokai.