InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 3: Forever ❯ Forgiveness ( Chapter 7 )

~~Chapter 7~~

~Forgiveness~

 

Ryomaru tightened his grasp on the double-bladed sword, Ryoteishuseishu. It gleamed in the early afternoon sunshine. The call had come only hours ago. Sesshoumaru had heard that a serpent youkai had been breaking into homes and had killed four humans thus far. The serpent had been traced to this run-down part of Tokyo. Ryomaru found him in a desolate lot where the crumbling remains of a building's foundation provided the perfect cover for his task.

 

Though the youkai normally stayed out of human affairs, when suspicion arose that one of their own was involved with such dealings, it fell to Sesshoumaru, who would then pass the task on to Ryomaru, to dispose of the troublemaker. Too often in the past the secret of the youkai had nearly been revealed by errant youkai who just didn't give a damn. Hunting down the renegade youkai was easier, and it guaranteed that their secrets would remain secret. The trick was to get to the youkai before the human officials did. Luckily for Sesshoumaru, Ryomaru was damn good at his job.

 

Glowering at the rogue serpent youkai he'd been sent to take care of, Ryomaru stifled an inward sigh. `Some fucking fight this'll be. Damn weak snake . . .'

 

“The twin-blade sword!” the snake hissed, beady black eyes flicking over the weapon. “Give it to me, hanyou! I could use it better than you!”

 

“Keh! If you want it, you'll have to come and take it.”

 

The serpent shot forward, body writhing in a curious movement. Ryomaru easily dodged, chuckling as he tossed the sword in the air and caught it. “What's the matter? Am I too fast for you?”

 

The snake's breath rushed out in a hissing rumble as he wheeled around to come after Ryomaru again. This time the hanyou swung Ryoteishuseishu. The sword sliced through the serpent's chest. He stared, accusing, incredulous, irate as he stumbled back. Body exploding in a fissure of light and wind, the serpent's pathetic cry faded away as the manufactured breeze died down, as a putrid black dust drifted harmlessly to the ground.

 

Ryomaru dropped Ryoteishuseishu into the scabbard meticulously carved from a branch of the legendary magnolia tree, Bokuseno. With a loud snort at the disappointing fight, Ryomaru turned on his heel and stomped away.

 

His sword was different from his father's weapon, the mighty Tetsusaiga. Tetsusaiga was forged from Ryomaru's grandfather's fang, as was its twin sword that belonged to Sesshoumaru. Tenseiga was the Sword of Heaven—it could resurrect the dead. Tetsusaiga was the Sword of Earth, meant to protect humans, like Ryomaru's mother. The second use of the sword was more obscure and only known within the family. It kept InuYasha's youkai blood in check. Though the odds of his youkai blood taking over was very slim, especially since he had mastered his blood long ago, the chance was still there, and that was something no one wanted to risk happening. InuYasha needed Tetsusaiga, and Ryomaru never had.

 

Because of the nature of the hanyou, Ryomaru, Kichiro, and Gin had all been taught early on about the dangers of losing their tempers or in finding themselves in life-threatening situations. In such cases, youkai blood might take over, and if they transformed into a full youkai form, the dangers were too great. Bluntly said, they'd fight until they died. They hadn't realized back then that there were things they hadn't taken into consideration.

 

Their mother was a miko—the strongest miko ever, or so the legends said. When Ryomaru was fifteen, a gang of neko-youkai had cornered him in an alley. Because there were eight of them and one of him, he'd taken a bit of a beating before Kichiro had found him and helped him out. In the end, though, he'd had his stomach ripped open along with a deep gash that almost severed his jugular, and he never even came close to transforming. Sesshoumaru had said he thought it was because of Kagome's blood, that her miko's blood kept the youkai blood in check.

 

When it came time for Ryomaru to receive a weapon, he'd been shocked when both Sesshoumaru and InuYasha had handed him one half of the sword he now wielded. Ryoteishuseishu—the double-bladed sword, was made up of two smaller swords: the Teishu, forged from InuYasha's fang, and the Seishu, forged from Sesshoumaru's fang. They could be used separately or, most often, locked together and used as one. It was the thing that Ryomaru prized above anything else.

 

With a sigh, Ryomaru flipped open his cell phone and dialed Sesshoumaru's number.

 

“Inutaisho.”

 

“The problem's taken care of,” he said without bothering with formalities.

 

Sesshoumaru uttered a sound—almost a grunt, almost a growl. “Good.”

 

“Anything else?” he asked, trying not to sound too anxious. The last thing he needed was for his uncle to tell his old man that he was itching to get into another fight . . .

 

“No . . . I'll call if I need you again.”

 

“Keh,” Ryomaru snorted as he snapped the phone closed. It didn't matter how many hunts he conducted; he was paid very well, anyway. He'd taken the job because he loved the rush of the fights though he never told his mother that part. He was sure she knew it anyway, but he never really wanted her to worry. Kagome had already said more than once that he was far too much like his father.

 

`You just don't wanna admit what you're really all stressed out over,' a voice in his mind accused.

 

Increasing his stride until he was running, Ryomaru vaulted to the top of a run-down building and sprinted across the roof. She'd gone over to smooth things out with her father. If he moved fast enough, he could probably beat Nezumi home . . .

 

Skidding to a stop as the word sank in, Ryomaru shook his head and scowled at the dingy rooftop. `Home? Her apartment ain't . . . Damn!'

 

`It's because I was human last night,' he thought as his scowl deepened as he started running again. `Makes me all . . . weird . . . I just meant that I could beat Nezumi back to her apartment; that was all . . .'

 

The voice in his head laughed at him.

 

His expression screwed up into the infamous Izayoi family pout. `Keh!'

 

 

-=-0-=-0-=-0-=-0-=-0-=-

 

 

“What are you doing here?” Kichiro demanded as Ryomaru forced his brother over in the small booth. Nezumi sat down across from them and reached for a laminated piece of cardboard that listed the few meals that the club served.

 

“I was hungry,” Ryomaru said, raising his voice over the din of the nightclub.

 

Kichiro snorted. “Hungry? So you came here?”

 

Ryomaru shrugged. Kichiro, better than anyone, should have known that most of the eating establishments that Ryomaru was familiar with were clubs of some sort. “Can't eat carry out every night, can I?”

 

Kichiro rolled his eyes. “One of you needs to cook.”

 

Ryomaru made a face as Nezumi ignored Kichiro's commentary. “Keh! Who needs to cook? There's always something open.”

 

Kichiro shook his head slowly but didn't comment on Ryomaru's claim. “You know, Ryo, I . . . oops . . .”

 

Ryomaru glanced at his twin when Kichiro hit his arm. Following the direction of Kichiro's gaze, Ryomaru stifled a groan as the shapely young woman sauntered over to the table. Her short black skirt showed her legs to an advantage, and her bright smile was directed at Ryomaru only. Glancing at Nezumi, he was relieved that she hadn't noticed the approaching woman. He stumbled to his feet, muttering something about the bathroom before hurrying away from the table.

 

The girl followed him—he figured she would—and he grimaced. Though he was certain that Nezumi meeting this girl would be a horrible idea, this one wasn't much better since he knew her intimately but couldn't for the life of him remember her name.

 

“Ryo! I'm so glad to see you!”

 

Glancing back toward the table and irritated by the sight of Kichiro leaning across the table whispering something to Nezumi, Ryomaru grabbed the girl's hand and dragged her toward the poorly lit hallway that led to the bathrooms. “Look, I'm, uhh—”

 

The girl's lips twisted into a sultry moue. “You never called me, and you promised you would.”

 

He nearly admitted that he never called any of the girls he'd picked up in bars back. He shook his head quickly and let go of her hand before stepping back. “I, uh . . . lost your number.”

 

Her almond shaped eyes narrowed just before an almost territorial smile filtered over her features. Ryomaru could feel his hanyou ears twitch nervously, and he backed away another step. She dug into her tiny purse and giggled as she pulled out a thin pencil. Pulling the lid off with a small pop, she sauntered toward him as he kept retreating until he came up against the wall. She stuck the pencil between her teeth and deftly worked the top two buttons of his shirt, using one hand to hold the fabric open while she took the burgundy marker-pencil and scrawled her phone number on his skin. “My lip liner is semi-permanent ink. This way,” she purred happily, “you can't lose my number.”

 

“Do you—you don't—that wasn't necessary,” he blurted as she eyed her handiwork.

 

She laughed as she twined her fingers into his hair and dragged him down for a kiss. Instinct kicked in, and he pushed her away, scowling at her as she stumbled. “Look, I was trying to be nice,” he remarked coldly as he tried to control his escalating temper. “I'm . . . with someone . . .”

 

She blushed as she fumbled in her purse. “I see . . . I'm sorry . . . you could have just said . . .”

 

Ryomaru winced inwardly. “I tried to,” he growled. With a disgusted sigh, he turned on his heel and slammed the men's bathroom door open. Stalking over to the sink as he worked the remaining buttons on his shirt and ignored the odd looks he was getting from the two men standing near the trash can, Ryomaru let the shirt hang open as he jerked on the water taps and tugged on the soap dispenser a few times.

 

There was only so much scrubbing he could do since he had to be careful of his claws. Yanking a handful of paper towels out of the wall dispenser, he wet them down, applied more soap, and scoured with a vengeance. The lingering traces of the crimson lip ink finally faded on his reddened skin. Wincing slightly as he splashed cold water on himself to wash away the soap bubbles, he jerked more paper towels to dry himself off and stared with grim satisfaction at the bright red flesh of his chest. `Stupid bitch,' he thought with a snort. `Just what the fuck was she doing?'

 

The two men were gaping at him openly now, displaying varying degrees of shocked amusement. Ryomaru glared at them, and they finally got the hint, hurrying out of the bathroom just as Kichiro stepped inside. “I was starting to think you'd skipped out on us,” Kichiro remarked calmly as Ryomaru buttoned his shirt. “Having problems?”

 

Ryo kept fastening his shirt. “Nope.”

 

“Kami, you smell like you took a bath in soap,” Kichiro complained as he wrinkled his nose.

 

“Yeah, well, that-that-that—” Ryomaru grumbled, waving a hand toward the door.

 

“Haruko?” Kichiro supplied as he crossed his arms over his chest without trying to hide his humor.

 

Ryomaru frowned. “Was that her name?”

 

Kichiro shook his head. “Baka, you went home with her, and you can't remember her name?”

 

“That ain't the point,” Ryomaru grouched.

 

“Then what is?”

 

“The point is, she thought it'd be hella cute to scrawl her damn phone number on my chest with her fucking semi-permanent make up.”

 

“I see.”

 

“What the hell does that mean?”

 

Kichiro shrugged. “Did you get it off?”

 

“Yes,” Ryomaru snarled as he stomped past his highly-amused twin. “Not like it fucking matters. Nez won't even kiss me, and—”

 

Kichiro's laughter cut him off, and Ryomaru's ears flattened. He hadn't really meant to admit that, especially not to Kichiro. `Damn it . . .'

 

“How do you know she won't kiss you? Did you try it?”

 

That earned Kichiro a glower accompanied by a menacing growl. “I should have killed you before we were born,” he grumbled as he jerked the door open and stomped out of the bathroom.

 

Kichiro didn't stop laughing as the door closed behind his disgruntled twin. Somewhere deep down, he really did feel sorry for the both of them. Nezumi had no idea what she'd gotten into. Even being one of their best friends for what seemed like forever hadn't really prepared her for becoming Ryomaru's mate.

 

The only reason that Kichiro didn't feel worse about it was because he distinctly remembered all-too-often in the past, how quick Ryomaru always had been to defend Nezumi's honor, whether she wanted him to or not. Maybe Ryomaru didn't realize it, and maybe Nezumi didn't either, but hadn't the signs always been there? Frightening, really, now that he thought about it. Maybe Ryomaru's youkai had chosen Nezumi a long, long time ago . . .

 

 

-=-0-=-0-=-0-=-0-=-0-=-

 

 

“Are you ever going to go home?” Nezumi asked pointedly as Ryomaru pushed her out of the way so he could stalk into the apartment.

 

“Why? You want to move in with Mother and the old man?”

 

She rolled her eyes. “No, baka. You go home, and I'll stay here . . . since this is my apartment.”

 

He gazed around with an appraising expression, as though he'd never really considered her apartment before. “You're right. This place won't work. Too damn small.”

 

She closed the door and shook her head slowly. “It's fine . . . for me. If you don't like it—”

 

“Nice try, Nez. If I go, you come with me. You're my—”

 

Her sigh cut him off. “I wish you'd stop saying that! If you're trying to make me feel better, then you might as well know: it's not working. You don't have to do . . . this. I know you, remember? I'm not stupid.”

 

“Who said you were stupid?” he challenged. “I'll admit . . . I didn't react well. I'm sorry . . . I didn't mean to hurt you.”

 

Nezumi frowned, refusing to give in to the achy swelling in her throat, the hot sting behind her eyes. Pushing past him, she strode to the refrigerator and grabbed the first thing she laid hands on: the carton of milk. Taking her time pouring a glass and putting away the container, she turned around slowly and ignored Ryomaru as she brushed past him, heading for the sofa.

 

`You're hurting his feelings, Nez, did you know? Look at his face, if you don't believe me.'

 

Against her better judgment, she stole a glance at him as she leaned forward to grab the television remote. Wincing when she saw him staring at his feet with his hands jammed into his pockets, it bothered her to see the way his shoulders slumped, the way his fuzzy little ears wilted.

 

`It doesn't matter,' she argued as she forced her eyes back to the television set and hit the button to turn it on. `Of course he didn't mean to hurt me. He didn't know how I . . . how I feel . . . I never told him, and I can't tell him now.'

 

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him pull his hands out of his pockets as he slowly wandered toward her before sinking down beside her. She flipped through the channels until she found an action movie then gently tossed the remote back onto the coffee table and sat back, draping her arm over her stomach as she raised the glass of milk to her lips.

 

“I could . . . build you a house, if you want,” he remarked with a carefully contrived nonchalance.

 

She shifted her eyes to the side, staring at Ryomaru with a mix of incredulity and absolute disbelief. She was about to tell him what she thought of that idea when something strange caught her gaze. Turning to stare directly at him, Nezumi slowly reached out to push his collar aside. The barest hint of redness on his otherwise pale skin met her stare, and before she could stop herself, she uttered a low growl.

 

Ryomaru glanced down and blurted out a loud stream of curses as he slapped her hand away. Face flaming as she reached for his shirt again, he shot to his feet and strode over to the counter.

 

`That . . . that . . . that was a woman's handwriting!' she fumed as she glared at his back. She was on her feet in a flash and closing the distance fast. “You ass!” she yelled. His ears twitched nervously as he whipped around to face her, hands up in a placating gesture that she wanted no part of. “I can't believe you—you damn dog!”

 

Her arm moved before she could think about her actions. Her hand stopped but the milk in the glass kept moving, hitting him square in the chest with an entirely unsatisfying splash as he winced and turned his head away to avoid getting the liquid in his face.

 

He jerked the empty glass out of her hand before she could clobber him with it and slammed it down on the counter as he jerked at his shirt. Buttons popped off and flew around the room before he yanked off the wet material and tossed it aside. “Damn it, Nez, it wasn't what you think!”

 

“Oh, save it, Ryo! How stupid do you think I am?”

 

“I told you! I don't think you're stupid!”

 

“Ri-i-ight, and I don't breathe! You just can't help yourself, can you? Yet another reason I will not believe you about this whole mate-story you've concocted! Go away, you jerk!”

 

“I can't!” he bellowed, raking his claws over his chest, over the writing and leaving angry red welts on his chest though he didn't draw blood. “I tried to wash it the fuck off! I told her I was with you . . . Damn, Nez! What do I have to do to get you to listen to me?”

 

Staring in shocked silence at the welts on his skin, Nezumi slowly shook her head. “Don't . . . don't do that,” she mumbled, lifting her hand to touch the self-inflicted injuries but stopping herself before she could.

 

His irritation faded with her softly uttered words, and he gently lifted her chin, forced her to look at him. “Tell me what to do. Tell me, because I . . . I want you to believe me.”

 

“I can't,” she admitted finally, pulling away as she strode around him to retrieve the glass and headed for the sink to rinse it.

 

“There's gotta be something,” he persisted as he followed her. “Just name it.”

 

“Drop it, Ryo. You've done enough.”

 

He sighed. “Then let me do something right.”

 

“You can't fix it. There's nothing to fix.”

 

“I know that . . . I fucked up. Tell me; I'll do anything you say.”

 

She snorted. “Go home.”

 

“Except that.”

 

She growled as she pushed past him again. “I'm going to take a shower,” she grumbled.

 

“All right,” he agreed as he caught her arm. “You can, as soon as you tell me what to do to make you believe me.”

 

Nezumi shook her head and tried to yank her arm away. “I don't know,” she bit out, angry at his uncanny strength.

 

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Answer the question.”

 

She could feel her cheeks heating. Grasping at straws, she grimaced as she stared at the welts on his chest again. `Anything, Nez! Just tell him something so he'll let it go!' A vague memory shot through her mind, and she frowned. They'd been out picking up a newspaper for his mother, and while they were waiting in line, she had been leafing through a body piercing magazine, mostly because it was there. Ryomaru had looked almost sick when she'd showed him some of the weird places people did that.

 

“Come on, Nez,” he coaxed, his tone much gentler than it had been.

 

“Body piercing,” she blurted as she extricated her arm from his grasp. Ryomaru looked shocked an even a little appalled. Nezumi took advantage of the moment to run to the bathroom and barricaded herself inside.

 

`There,' she thought, feeling just a little smug. `That's one thing he won't do, not ever . . .'

 

 

~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~ *~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~

A/N:

Ryoteishuseishu: Both Lawful Blade, Righteous Blade.

It is actually two swords that lock together into one. The Seishu was forged from Sesshoumaru's fang. The Teishu was forged from InuYasha's fang. When needed, Ryo can unlock the swords into two separate swords that are easier to wield one-handed.

Blade - Shuto.

Ryo: both.

Seiji: lawful.

Teijo: righteous.

I don't know when I'll upload the next chapter. In a day or two, after my feelings have calmed down.

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Reviewers

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myeerah (FFnet):

Hmm. . . I like the direction this is headed a lot more than my original would have led me to believe. Seeing that it started more-or-less as glorified rape, I feel a little more affection toward the characters than I suspected I would.

 

You know, I had to think about how to respond to this review. First I looked to see if the reader had a registered email on FFnet. Nope. If there had been one, I'd have done this via email. I do think I have the right to defend myself. I take great exception to the use of the word `rape'. I know better than many, just what the repercussions of that are. Nezumi didn't think she was raped. She wanted to be with him. She wanted that one night. She wanted him to be her first. She'd loved him forever. She just didn't realize what it meant for him. That anyone could possibly liken it to rape in any way, shape, or form sickens and disgusts me—and it offends me more than anyone will ever know. I make no apologies for this story or for the events that started it. I think you're being a bit simplistic in your views and detestable in your words. Your review has hurt me more than any collection of reviews I've ever gotten have. Words have power, and with that power comes responsibility. With that in mind, I've not given in to the desire to be as odious and malicious as you have been. Just know that, even though I did not take your words as a `flame', I did find them far, far more offensive.

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Sess_2005 (AFFnet):

I thought Nezumi was a hanyou too. But the way you made it out to be in this chap, she isn't. Care to explain to me please?

 

I don't know where this idea would have come from. Nezumi is not hanyou, never has been. She IS half-Japanese, half-American …

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Drake Clawfang (FFnet):

Ah, excellence. I was kidding about the british thing. No offense meant, Sueric. So what does Kichiro mean?

 

Kichiro means Lucky Son. I wasn't actually referring to your review in particular. I meant that more as a word of the wise to people who say things like, “I really can't get into your other stories, but … ”

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rachainu (AScom):

Yay! The first review for anime spiral! Great chapter! I loved it and I love every one of your other stories, which inspired me to start one of my own and now I'm doing three fan fics! One question for you. How old are Ryo, Kichiro, Nezumi, Toga, Sierra, Gin, InuYasha, Kagome, and Aiko? Anyway, great chapter! Bye!

 

Kich, Ryo and Nezumi are around 25. Toga is around 31-32. Sierra is around 27 or so. Aiko is around 29-30. Gin is about 20. Yasha would be roughly 45 or 46, Kagome would be around 43-44.

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MMorg

LadyMoonHawke ::: Suze ::: foamyfanpa15010 ::: tinkerbell ::: serendith ::: ThePioden (Thank you. You made me laugh at a moment when I sorely needed it.) ::: akdreamer ::: fruitcake

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FFnet

agent-doo ::: Flames101 ::: WiccanMethuselah ::: shippowantscandy

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AFFnet

Littleolmee ::: deep serenity ::: andross ::: Mel ::: Rawben ::: Meres (After a quick conference with Deirdre, it has been decided. She prefers `Nezumi'. Lol) ::: Rachel

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Final Thought from Ryomaru:

…Body piercing?

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Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in Forever): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize.

 

~Sue~