InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 7: Avouchment ❯ Worthy ( Chapter 67 )

~~Chapter 67~~

~Worthy~

 

~xXxXxXxXxXx~

 

 

Biting off the growl that he hadn't been able to contain, Griffin didn't blink as he stared the youkai down. “I said let her go,” he ground out from between clenched teeth.

 

“I want that research,” Alastair intoned, digging his claws deeper into the soft flesh of Isabelle's hip. She bit her lip, wincing at the blood that pooled in her mouth.

 

“Why?” Griffin challenged. “Why do you want it?”

 

“That is none of your concern,” he spat, shaking Isabelle roughly when she started to struggle.

 

“If you hurt her, Zelig will destroy the research,” Griffin warned.

 

“I think not,” he rebuked. “Zelig is a fool—he and his ilk perpetuate the hanyou like a virus—like a plague.”

 

Griffin snorted. “Spare me your sob story, will you? Let her go, and get the hell off my property, Alastair.”

 

The youkai chuckled. “So you know my name,” he mused. “You're much cleverer than you look.”

 

“I know enough,” Griffin replied tightly.

 

“Then you know that I won't be leaving without the research . . . or would you like to see her in pieces?”

 

Griffin started to move forward but stopped when Alastair flexed his claws again. “You'll let her go?” he asked slowly, narrowing his eyes as he stared at the youkai. “If I give you that damned research . . .”

 

“No!” Isabelle yelled in a throaty breath. “No, Griffin!”

 

“Don't be stupid, Isabelle,” he growled.

 

“Stupid! Stupid!” she fumed. “I'll show you `stupid', Griffin Marin!”

 

Without another thought, she reached out with her free hand and dug her claws through the fabric of the panther-youkai's suit into the flesh of his arm just below the elbow, uttering a growl of her own as she raked downward, along the length of the arm that was holding onto her hip. His grip loosened as he snarled angrily, and he started to tighten it again, but Isabelle was faster. Jerking her arm free, she twisted slightly, swinging her arm over her chest and back, aiming upward as she whipped around, loosening his hold on her as her elbow connected with the youkai's windpipe. He staggered back with a choked gasp, and before Isabelle could think to move away, another hand caught her wrist, yanked her back with a hasty shove, and she tumbled onto the grass as the blur that was Griffin flashed past her.

 

“Get inside, Isabelle!” he snarled as he lunged at Alastair, who managed to evade the fist that Griffin had aimed directly at his heart. He spun to the side as the unmistakable crunch of splintering bone filled the air. Chest heaving as he flicked his hand, sending a fine spatter of blood flying from his fingertips, the youkai rubbed his throat then gripped his broken arm, glowering at Griffin and grunting in obvious pain.

 

Griffin's forward momentum carried him past the youkai, and Isabelle winced as his fist slammed into the concrete driveway. The groan that resounded made her grimace, and she watched in stunned amazement as the solid surface crumbled as though the very earth below had shifted. He rose slowly, his head snapping to the side to pin the panther-youkai with a dark glower. His gaze flicked over Isabelle, who was kneeling on the grass, and he shook his head slightly. “I told you to get in the damn house, woman,” he growled as he slowly turned to face his opponent.

 

It was on the tip of her tongue to argue with him, but something about his stance stopped her. Too angry, too controlled . . . She watched for a moment as he straightened his back and advanced on the youkai, and whether the slight limp in his gait was apparent to the stranger or not was irrelevant. It was obvious to her. He might be doing well at the moment, but she didn't delude herself into believing that he could hold his own if the fight dragged on . . .

 

It was that thought that galvanized her into action. Stumbling to her feet and ignoring the dull, throbbing ache in her hip, she ran up the steps and into the house.

 

The phone receiver wasn't on the base unit—Griffin must have left it downstairs after he'd gotten off the phone with Maria—and with a smothered gasp, she whipped around, smashing her palm against her forehead as she struggled to calm down so that she could think.

 

“What's going on?” Gunnar asked, leaning heavily against the wall as he stepped out of the hallway with Charlie dancing around his feet. He looked like he was still feeling a bit nauseous, and she grimaced when she saw the deep purple smudges under his eyes. “What happened to your face?”

 

She shot him a cursory glance and ignored his terse question. “Have you seen my cell?” she demanded with a frown, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand. “And you need to go back to bed.”

 

He snorted. “Keh! Your damn dog kept licking my hand and whining. Kept saying something about `Lord Bear'—I assume he means that damned bear you live with?”

 

“Shut up!” she yelled, brushing past him and darting down the hallway. The last place she'd had her phone was in Gunnar's room, and with a hoarse cry, she spotted it on the floor beside the bed. Snatching it up, her fingers were trembling as she dialed the phone and ran back into the living room again. Bas answered after the second ring.

 

“Bitty? Hi . . .”

 

“Bastian! The guy who was after the research is here, and Griffin—”

 

“Shit!” Bas growled, cutting Isabelle off short. “I'm at Dad's . . . Is Gunnar still there? Can he fight?

 

“Griffin is,” she muttered, glancing out the living room window and grimacing. The panther-youkai sprang toward Griffin, who was kneeling on the ground roughly where Isabelle had been, but Griffin whipped around, jamming his arms out straight just in time to catch the panther in the center of his chest and send him skidding back.

 

“Where's Gunnar?” Bas demanded.

 

The youkai slid across the ground, his hair now free from the ponytail that had held it back, the tendrils curling around him like macabre wings. As he slid, he drew his right hand over his left shoulder and snapped it down, unleashing a barrage of energy beams from the tips of his fingers. “Gunnar's not—” Cutting herself off as a loud shriek tumbled from her lips, she tossed the phone at Gunnar as she broke for the door. Griffin had seen them coming and had tried to dodge, but one of them had caught his shoulder, sending him sprawling backward.

 

Gunnar grabbed her wrist as she tried to run past him. “No!” he growled, jerking her back. “Don't be stupid!”

 

“Let go!” she bellowed, swinging her arm wildly to dislodge his hold on her. “He's going to—”

 

“Isabelle! No!” Gunnar intoned, giving her a rough shake. “I'll do it.”

 

“No! You can't!” she hissed, yanking herself free. “You aren't fit to fight!”

 

He started to argue with her. She didn't listen. Dashing into the foyer, she jerked the door open and ran outside, scanning the yard wildly as the abrasive rub of the two conflicting youki surged and frothed.

 

“—is she . . . to you . . .?” she heard the panther's voice.

 

Her head snapped to the side, and she sucked in a sharp breath. Somehow, Griffin had managed to get a hold of Alastair and held him suspended against the house with his claws imbedded into the tender flesh around the youkai's windpipe.

 

Griffin growled, bearing his fangs in a distorted grimace as she shook the panther then slammed him back against the wall with enough force that the structure groaned. “She's my mate,” he replied coldly, “and you will not hurt her!”

 

`Stop him!' she thought wildly as a choking sort of gurgle escaped the trapped youkai. `Stop him or he'll—'

 

Eyes flashing wide as realization dawned on her a moment later, Isabelle ran, only one thought clear in her mind: `He can't do it! He can't be responsible for another death; not when he already thinks he's to blame for so many others . . .'

 

Stubbing her toe against the squat stone beside the walk that Griffin used as a shoe scraper, she caught herself before she fell and stumbled forward. `Stop him; stop him; stop him . . .'

 

“Griffin!” she screamed, latching onto his arm and pulling to no avail. Tendons constricted, muscles bulging, he ignored her as he might a fly at a picnic and tightened his grip. Rivulets of blood oozed around his claws, running down the youkai's neck as his face mottled from an unnatural shade of red to a grotesque grayish-purple. It wouldn't take much to rip Alastair's throat wide open, and Isabelle wasn't entirely convinced that Griffin had it in him to stop, either. “No!” she yelled, futilely tugging on Griffin's arm.

 

“I told you to go inside,” he snarled without taking his eyes off the youkai. The panther latched onto Griffin's wrist, tugging, yanking, rending the flesh in an entirely pathetic attempt to gain his freedom.

 

“You can't kill him!” she pleaded, tears springing to cloud her vision. She could feel him drawing away from her, and somehow she understood that if he did this, she would lose him forever. Eyes tinged in a red hue, they fluctuated from brown to red in the space of a heartbeat. “Griffin, please!”

 

“He—hurt—you!” Griffin growled, underlining every word with fierce motion as he slammed the youkai against the wall again and again. “He can't—”

 

“Maybe he can't,” she blurted, shaking her head as she pulled on his arm. “But neither can you! Griffin . . . please don't . . .”

 

She wasn't sure exactly what part of her plea had reached him. Slowly turning his head to look at her, his eyes pulsed once more before they reverted to the brown she knew, and for only an instant, she saw the emotion that had goaded him: the consuming fear that he could have been just a little too late. An unnatural brightness brought on by a wash of moisture filtered over his eyes, and for the briefest of moments, his grip on the panther's neck loosened.

 

Alastair seized the opportunity to shoved Griffin away, unleashing another round of energy spears as he fell to the ground. They struck Griffin in the center of his chest, tossing him back as though he were little more than a rag doll as his blood arced in a fine sheen of spray in his wake—as Isabelle shrieked his name.

 

He advanced on Isabelle as he breathed hard. Backing away as she tried not to look to see where Griffin had landed, she tried to keep her distance from him. “You are nothing but a thorn in my side,” he growled, his eyes flashing with the animosity that he couldn't repress. “You stole what's mine—mine!”

 

“Yours?” she challenged, glancing over at Griffin, who lay on his side, unmoving, in the grass. “You killed Kennedy Carradine, didn't you?”

 

He laughed. “You ignorant little girl! Of course I did—and I killed his idiot brother, as well.”

 

Wincing when she backed against her car, she tried to step to the side. Alastair raised his hand, cracked his knuckles, his fingertips erupting in a hazy glow.

 

A ball of white energy whipped over Alastair's shoulder, traveling so close that it singed his cheek before he had a chance to jump to the side. Flying straight past Isabelle, it kept moving, gaining speed until it smashed into a tree on the far side of the driveway with a resounding crash.

 

Blinking since the ball of energy had affected her vision, she shook her head as though she were trying to alleviate the effect.

 

“Isabelle!” Gunnar's voice rang out as he slowly stepped off the porch. “Get your bear and help him inside.” Narrowing his gaze on the panther-youkai, Gunnar cracked his knuckles and flexed his fingers. “I'll deal with him.”

 

 

~xXxXxXxXxXx~

 

 

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” Gunnar demanded as he squared his shoulders and regarded the strange youkai as Isabelle darted over to Griffin's side. The bear had been knocked unconscious for a moment, but he was slowly starting to move on his own—enough of a consolation, as far as Gunnar was concerned. He'd seen Isabelle's valiant display of stupidity, throwing herself right into harm's way, it seemed, and while he could appreciate her sentiments, he couldn't help the raw irritation that she'd do something as blatantly stupid as rush headlong into the fray.

 

The youkai took his time, letting his gaze roam over Gunnar's face, assessing his physical strength. He seemed surprised by the ears perched atop Gunnar's head—the ears that proclaimed his heritage louder than anything else could—and for a moment, the absolute disdain that slammed down over the youkai's face was impossible to ignore.

 

Lifting his chin stubbornly—proudly, Gunnar didn't back down. If the youkai were foolish enough to discount Gunnar solely on the fact that he was hanyou then Gunnar figured that he deserved whatever he got for his the gross slight.

 

“The grandson of the Inu no Taisho,” the youkai stated in an amused tone. “I tell you, boy: go home before you get hurt.”

 

Ignoring the bile that rose in his throat, Gunnar wasn't about to let the youkai see that he wasn't feeling entirely himself at the moment. “Who are you, and what do you want?” he repeated, refusing to lower himself to the goading that the stranger seemed inclined to indulge himself in. He could discern the sounds of Isabelle helping Griffin to his feet, and while he didn't doubt for a moment that the bear was anything but happy at being escorted indoors, he also must have decided that Isabelle's safety depended upon it since she wasn't likely to remain in the house if he refused to go with her.

 

“My apologies,” he said, making a mockery of a bow in Gunnar's direction without lowering his gaze as was proper—a slight that did not go unnoticed. “I am Lord Alastair Gregory, and I've come to collect something that was stolen from me.”

 

Nonplussed by the name that the youkai had supplied, Gunnar shrugged offhandedly. “Your name means nothing to me, Lord Alastair Gregory,” he assured the youkai with an arrogant shrug. “Don't make the mistake of thinking that I do not realize that you're simply biding your time while you catch your breath . . . Was that damned old bear too much for the likes of you?”

 

The youkai erupted in an angry growl. Gunnar didn't even blink.

 

The first volley of energy spears were simple enough to evade, and the irritation that registered on Gregory's face was ironic, at best. Ducking to the side to avoid the blast, Gunnar sprinted forward, drawing his claws back as a low hum reverberated in his ears. Cleaving through the air with a broad sweep of his hand, he just missed Alastair when the youkai dove to the side and rolled to his feet before springing directly at Gunnar to unleash an attack of his own.

 

“Don't insult me!” he bellowed as Gunnar rolled out of the way to avoid taking the hit. Kicking out his legs and whipping around on his hands, he caught Gregory's ankle with his foot, laying the youkai flat on his back before pushing off the ground and springing backward, lighting on his feet a safe distance away from the panther's reach.

 

The motion of his own movements was enough to bring a bitter surge of nausea to the fore, and Gunnar bit down hard, jamming his teeth together to keep himself from vomiting. `Damn it . . .'

 

The youkai pushed himself to his feet, swiping his palm over the still trickling flow of blood that ran down his neck, glowering intently at Gunnar as he slowly started to circle, leaving himself a wide berth lest Gunnar should launch another attack. “What's the matter, Lord Gregory?” Gunnar taunted. “Is This Mamoruzen too much for the likes of you?”

 

Alastair's youki spiked, his anger a viable thing, as he narrowed his eyes, as a flash of red seeped into his gaze. The manner of youkai who hated to admit that a hanyou—any hanyou—might be his equal, let alone his better . . . they sickened Gunnar.

 

With an irate howl, the youkai dashed forward, his body little more than a blur of motion. Gunnar managed to hop back just in time to avoid taking a hit, but he didn't have time to gloat as he sprang off the ground again when Gregory took another swipe at him.

 

Raising his hand, he unleashed a glowing ball of energy straight at the youkai. It wasn't an attack that he used often. It tended to physically drain him fairly quickly, but given the circumstances, he didn't really have a choice, either. That damned Marin wasn't in any kind of shape to fight this particular youkai. `What the hell was he thinking . . .?'

 

The ball of light hit the ground at Alastair's feet, shaking the earth and exploding on impact, enveloping the form of the youkai and capturing him in an eerie glow. Landing in a crouch, Gunnar slowly pushed himself to his feet, staring unblinking as the light expanded and contracted before fading out completely.

 

Alastair wasn't there.

 

`What the . . .? He couldn't have evaded that attack!' Gunnar thought. He hadn't seen the youkai dodge it, and he could still feel Gregory's malignant aura.

 

With an angry hiss, Gunnar glanced down and leapt back to avoid the direct impact as a four-foot circle started to glow beneath him. Moments later, a solid fountain of pure energy shot out of the circle, catching Gunnar in the outer perimeter as every single nerve in his body shot to life in brilliant pain.

 

He heard himself scream as his body started to fall. Squeezing his eyes closed as he smashed into the ground, flat on his back, he couldn't seem to catch his breath. His body wouldn't cooperate with his mind's dictates, and he forced his eyes open in time to see Gregory slowly pushing himself up out of the ground.

 

Summoning every last bit of willpower that he possessed, Gunnar forced himself to move. Rolling to the side, pushing himself up on his hands and knees, he couldn't control the rise of nausea that hit him hard as he retched and heaved. He struggled to push himself up but couldn't. His body was too weary from days spent sick after the second test to withstand the brunt of Gregory's attack—an attack that me might have otherwise anticipated were it not for the weakened state he was suffering.

 

Gregory's laughter started low: a chuckle that escalated into a harsh, cloying sound. Left arm dangling uselessly at his side, he raised his right hand and cracked his knuckles, his eyes pulsating from red to black as he poised himself to strike.

 

A ball of energy cut through the air with a high-pitched whistle. Slamming into the center of Alastair's chest, it blew the youkai back, bearing him against the thick, gnarled trunk of a white ash tree on the far side of Griffin's driveway. The youkai crumpled to the ground as a thick cloud of dust and splinters of wood rained down, and Gunnar blinked, shaking his head. The tree was gone—obliterated. He didn't have time to think about that, though, as warm hands—strong hands—wrapped around his arm and pulled him to his feet.

 

“You all right?” Cain Zelig asked, his eyes shifting over Gunnar's face in a quick assessment of his physical state.

 

“Y-yeah,” Gunnar muttered as another wave of nausea hit him.

 

“Isabelle?”

 

He jerked his head toward the house but didn't speak, concentrating instead on not throwing up.

 

“Go inside. Make sure she's safe,” Cain commanded, letting go of Gunnar's arm. “I'll take care of him.”

 

“Earth . . . earth elemental youkai . . .” Gunnar mumbled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he started to turn away. “He can go underground . . . damn cats . . .”

 

“Thanks,” Cain said, turning his attention to the youkai who was still lying on the ground. “Who is he?”

 

Gunnar snorted though the sound was weary, weakened. “Alastair Gregory—Lord Alastair Gregory, he said.”

 

Cain nodded slowly. “I see.”

 

Without another comment, Gunnar turned and walked away.

 

 

~xXxXxXxXxXx~

 

 

Taking a moment to steady his nerves, Cain drew a deep breath and squared his shoulders, willing away the consuming worry that had closed in on him during the short trip from his mansion in Bevelle. The normally hour long drive was replaced by a quicker route via his energy form, and he'd made it to Bangor in about fifteen minutes. What was that old phrase? A miss was as good as a mile? Somehow, though, he couldn't help but feel that it was a hollow victory because the sight of Gunnar, on his hands and knees with the youkai poised over him to strike was entirely too vivid in his mind to forget any time soon. As good as Gunnar was at fighting, he wasn't over the effects of the clinical trial, and if he were the one fighting, just how bad off was Dr. Marin?

 

“Who do you work for?” Cain demanded, stepping forward when the youkai started to sit up.

 

The panther didn't answer as he braced his weight on his right hand and pushed himself to his feet. Upon closer inspection, Cain realized that the youkai's left arm had to be broken. He drew a series of ragged breaths, and his dark eyes narrowed when he finally looked at Cain. “So I rank the attention of the Zelig, himself? How flattering,” he sneered.

 

“Who are you working for?” Cain repeated.

 

“Do not make me laugh!” he scoffed, his gaze igniting in irate fire. “I bow to no one!”

 

“Alastair Gregory, I must ask that you come with me for questioning,” Cain said, stepping toward the youkai in question without taking his eyes off him.

 

“I think not!” Gregory hissed, unleashing a volley of energy spears at him. Cain didn't try to sidestep them, simply knocking them away with the back of his hand just before they struck him. They fizzled and sputtered then died away without leaving a mark on the tai-youkai. “That research was meant to be mine!”

 

“Was it?” Cain asked with a raised eyebrow as a strange sense of foreboding registered in his head. “You . . . you are the one who killed Dr. Avis,” he mused.

 

“That coward!” Alastair spit, lurching to the side in a pathetic effort to stalk around Cain. “He couldn't even do the basest of tasks! So enamored of his dead love's daughter . . . weak and pathetic!”

 

Cain chuckled though his tone lacked any real humor as he shook his head. “And you think that preying upon those weaker than you makes you any less pathetic? If everyone lived by your skewed sense of power, then there really wouldn't be anything left in this world worth protecting.”

 

“And what do you protect?” Alastair snarled, balling up his fist and clenching it tight. “Do you protect those perversities of nature? Those hanyou? Do you protect the secrets so that we may flourish in the shadows? The glory of our kind reduced to myth and lore, and you—you are content to let it remain so!” Uttering an infuriated growl, the youkai smashed his fist into the ground, sending a furrow of earth straight at him as Cain's vision blurred, impaired by the debris that erupted from the chasm.

 

Lifting his hand, he unleashed a ball of energy to intercept Alastair's attack, narrowing his eyes and shielding his face against the unnatural wind and light. He could sense the panther's approach. In the commotion of the attack, the miscreant had thought to try to gain an advantage by sneaking in. Lowering his arms, Cain leveled his stare at Gregory and did not back away when the youkai lunged at him.

 

Alastair slashed his claws, only to have his attacks repelled easily, unceremoniously. Snagging the sleeve of the plain white cotton shirt that Cain wore, he smiled with a sense of grim satisfaction when the fabric of his sleeve ripped under his claws. Cain narrowed his eyes and shoved the panther back a few steps. “Ruining a shirt is hardly grounds for celebration,” he pointed out without bothering to inspect the garment.

 

“I'll take you apart, piece by piece if I have to,” Alastair promised. “Tai-youkai . . .”

 

“Are you challenging me?” Cain asked slowly.

 

“You don't deserve a formal challenge!”

 

Springing out of the way when Alastair shot forward again, Cain landed a few feet away. Alastair's rage was spiraling rapidly, resounding in the atmosphere like a series of fireworks being set off. Suspiciously close to losing himself to the hatred that consumed him, he unleashed a furious yowl that rang in Cain's ears long after the actual sound had ended.

 

Dashing toward him, arm outstretched, he swung at Cain yet again. He was careless in his frustration, and careless, Cain knew, could also mean dangerous.

 

The years of instruction he'd been given when he lived with Sesshoumaru rang in his head: “Never lose yourself to anger, Zelig. It will avail you nothing, and that anger can be used against you. If you give in to base emotion, you will die.”

 

It was one of the few times that Sesshoumaru had actually said much of anything, and now he understood. This fight had to end, and it had to end quickly. He wasn't sure how it had escaped the notice of the humans in the area for this long—possibly because many of them were away from their homes at the moment—but the longer it dragged on, the more likely it would be that the human authorities would be called, and that was something that Cain couldn't let happen . . .

 

Alastair sprang at him again, and this time, Cain jumped to intercept him. The dull scrape of claws against bone echoed in the clearing moments before a howl of pain drowned out the echo. The sensation—akin to running one's fingernails over sandpaper—shot straight up Cain's arm as Alastair fell in a tangled heap on the unforgiving earth. Cain shifted his body, twisted in the air to land facing the panther-youkai.

 

Grunting, breathing shallow and stunted, the youkai slowly pushed himself up on his knees as he gingerly flexed his right hand, shaking the appendage as the fresh tinge of blood invaded Cain's senses. The silence that had fallen was unnatural, punctuated only by the plop of blood hitting the broken pavement of the driveway as it dripped from Alastair's hand.

 

“Give up, Gregory,” Cain remarked in an even tone.

 

“That will not happen!” Alastair growled, unleashing another round of energy spears at him. Unlike the first time he'd tried that, the spears were wider in berth—a sure sign that the youkai was wearing down. Spikes of that nature would do more damage if they were closer together and impacted as one. Alastair was losing control of his abilities, and given the situation, Cain wasn't entirely certain whether or not that was a positive thing.

 

Cain rolled out of the way but gasped as one of the spears grazed his cheek, and with an irritated growl, he pushed off the ground to avoid Gregory's descending fist. The spray of dirt and grass that exploded under him sprayed up around him, tearing across the ground with uncanny speed as Alastair leapt to meet him.

 

Slashing wildly, Alastair cut through the softer flesh of Cain's side. With a grunt as pain erupted in his head, the tai-youkai latched onto Alastair's arm, jerking him forward as he extended the heel of his hand and let go. Catching the panther in the center of his chest, Alastair flew backward, tumbling, rolling, even as the first droplets of rain started to fall.

 

Landing on his feet in a crouch, Cain slid back a few feet, digging his claws into the ground to stop himself before rising to his feet, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

 

Gregory didn't move. With a sigh of relief, Cain started forward, reaching into his pocket for the special handcuffs he'd grabbed out of his son's hand as he strode past his son on his way out of the mansion.

 

A low hiss, a singsong wail rose from the fallen youkai. His aura shifted, the wind taking an unnatural turn, swirling around his body as he slowly pushed himself to his knees, as his pulse fluctuated in his aura. Stopping short, Cain's eyes widened as realization hit him. The fool was going to transform, wasn't he, and if he did that . . .

 

Cain didn't think; he simply reacted. Lifting his hand, stretching out his fingers, gathering the energy of the very forces of nature, the ball of light that gathered in his palm flashed through the air, engulfed the panther-youkai in a hazy flash. His scream pierced the afternoon, underlined by the rumble of thunder somewhere in the distance as Cain stood, slowly lowering his arm, unblinking, unyielding as Alastair Gregory's body exploded, disintegrated, in a fissure of light and a rain of dust.

 

 

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A/N:

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Final Thought from Isabelle:

…Did he just say …?

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Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in Avouchment): 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~