InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Season of Sorrow ❯ Chapter Two ( Chapter 2 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: ladygriddlebone 
Time passes.
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Horror / Psychological / Angst / Drama | Type: Divergence | Uploaded On: 12.25.2009 | Updated On: 12.26.2009 | Pages: 4 | Words: 5.8K | Visits: 683 | Status: Completed
Time passes.
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Horror / Psychological / Angst / Drama | Type: Divergence | Uploaded On: 12.25.2009 | Updated On: 12.26.2009 | Pages: 4 | Words: 5.8K | Visits: 683 | Status: Completed
Disclaimer: Inuyasha belongs to Rumiko Takahashi.
Chapter Two
Sango woke from the dark, dreamless sleep of the dead with a faint feeling of regret. Her heart beat sluggishly in her chest, and her breaths were cramped by bandages wrapped tightly around her torso. Her eyes drifted open and stared sightlessly upward until her vision began to clear. It took her a long time to realize that the ceiling she was staring at was familiar; she had been in this room before.
This was the room where she had been left to heal, in Kagewaki's castle. She wondered for a moment if her battle against Inuyasha had been merely a dream, but her deteriorated condition told her it had really happened, which begged the question...
How did I get back here?
Even her mind felt slow, sluggishly struggling to connect thoughts or to piece together what had happened. Had Naraku brought her back to this place? She could remember little of the past few days, little beyond the pain of her injuries. Through the haze of pain, she was almost certain that she remembered embarking on a doomed journey to her village in search of vengeance, and -
"You're awake."
She had not even realized that she was not alone.Vaguely, she recognized that it was Lord Kagewaki who sat beside her, and that he had continued speaking while she wondered if he was truly there, or simply some fevered imagining.
" – But I will see to it that you receive the care you need, until you are well again."
"Thank you," she croaked, in a voice she barely recognized as her own. Her mouth would not form the syllables of his name. He did not seem to mind the informality.
"You should rest," he urged. It was almost as if he sensed the deep wave of exhaustion that had risen up, threatening to overwhelm her. "I will send servants with food and water, and a healer to see to your wounds."
His words fell on deaf ears, for Sango was already drifting away.
-----
Some time later, Sango awoke again, this time to the sensation that her body was on fire. Her skin tingled and itched and burned around each of her numerous injuries; she knew it was a sign that she was, against all odds, healing. She realized, with no small amount of disgust, that she might survive this. And she hated it. Why should she live while all of her comrades died? Her hard-won vengeance mattered little if she were to end up all alone, unable to join her friends and family in the underworld.
She had planned to die... but death now seemed out of reach. There was suicide, of course, but demon slayers were not so weak or easily dishonored as to resort to such measures. Given no real choice, she began to collect herself.
She still lacked the strength to move, but she felt more aware than before. When she yearned for the bleak emptiness that had taken her earlier, it would not come. It might take days, or even weeks, of recovery, but she no longer felt the touch of death.
There was no sign of Lord Kagewaki. All around was only the silence of emptiness. It occurred to her that perhaps it was late at night. It was certainly dark enough, the room being lit by only a single candle in the corner.
She lay in silence and stared at the ceiling and felt a vague sense of unease shiver across her skin.
-----
Lord Kagewaki visited her every day after that, and brought memories with him. She remembered his kindness, and felt a small smile form on her lips. She recalled his abuse of her body, and hated him, but could not quite reconcile the two memories. Which was closer to the true Kagewaki, she would wonder idly after he had left, the kind and gentle young man, or the one that ruthlessly took whatever he wanted?
His next visit saw her inching toward recovery, but no closer to the answer she sought. As before, he sat beside her and spoke quietly, informing her of inconsequential things and inquiring after the quality of her care. Sango lay on her futon and only half listened, even though Kagewaki held her hand as he spoke. Before he departed, he bowed his head and pressed his lips to her flesh, and she saw in his eyes that he wanted more. There was a hunger in those eyes that she had seen before. She did not like it one bit.
She spent the afternoon alone, mulling over the possibilities that look might entail. In the end, she decided that he had taken what he wanted once, regardless of the fact that she had been dying. The man would not hesitate to do so again. The idea made her seethe with anger, but she accepted that there was little she could do to stop him... not yet.
And so she was prepared when two women came after her evening meal had been served, armed with a great tub of unpleasantly cold water, and wash-rags with which to bathe her. They washed her where she lay, gently scrubbing, but heedless of her offended modesty. She had to admit that it felt wonderful to be clean of grime and dried blood, but a strong sense of foreboding gnawed at her gut, spurred by the servants' strange silence. She was glad they did not speak to her, for she did not trust her voice, but found it worrisome that they did not converse amongst themselves, not even to comment on the severity of her injuries.
They took her clothing with them when they left, content to leave her naked and chilled, with only a blanket to cover herself. She lay down upon the futon, feeling supremely self-conscious without even bandages to cover her wounds, and feigned sleep. She hoped that perhaps Kagewaki would leave her be if she seemed to be resting. She did not have to wait long to find out.
Kagewaki's entrance was accompanied only by the soft sound of the door sliding open and shut again, and by the steps of bare feet across the tatami mats. He came to a stop a short distance behind her and said nothing; she wondered if he was appraising the situation or simply taking stock of the damage.
She had deliberately positioned herself so that her back faced the door, in the hopes that the sight of her still-healing wounds would dissuade him from whatever course he had set. For a long time there was silence, as he stood and watched her. Something pulsed faintly in her back. She felt a twinge of discomfort and wished for bandages to bind the wound. Finally, he called her name, but she pretended not to hear and hoped he would give up and go away.
He did not leave. Instead, he crouched beside her and gently laid his hand, not on her shoulder, but on the wound in her back. His hand was cold against the heated, inflamed flesh. And when he pressed against her - agony. Her body spasmed involuntarily from the pain; she cried out, her voice rough and hoarse at once, and knew there was no way she could pretend to be unaware now. She gasped for breath, red tinging the edges of her vision.
"Are you in pain, Sango?"
She shuddered and would not answer. His hand slid down her back, trailed over her buttocks, and curved up again over the rise of her hip where it lingered for a moment. And then he pressed, urging her hips toward him and down to the floor until her spine twisted painfully and she rolled onto her back. She hissed in pain, but would not give him the satisfaction of voicing it; he knew he was hurting her, and chose to go on anyway.
She closed her eyes against the sight of him moving over her, pushing the blanket out of the way; she squeezed them ever tighter at the sudden feeling of his hand between her legs. She clamped her legs instinctively shut, muscles tightening almost painfully across her belly as fear took her. She felt him shift, looming over her, using his hand and a well-placed knee to force her legs open.
"Please... don't..." she rasped, but he gave no sign of having heard her.
There was the rustle of fabric and his robe came open; she could feel the edges of the fabric against her hips. She moved instinctively to slap him away, but her arms were weak and would not obey her, flopping uselessly to the side.
Kagewaki's fingers found her core again, probing, guiding. A moment later, he thrust inside of her, his member hot and hard and, it seemed, much too large to fit. Her body did not welcome the sudden intrusion, but he paid scant attention to her discomfort. Instead, he began moving quickly, thrusting wildly against her.
She recalled no specific pain from their last encounter, only the overwhelming numbness that went hand in hand with her injuries and the loss of everything she had ever loved. This time, the shock was enough to make her fear she might be split in two. Obviously aroused in spite of her pain - or, perhaps, she thought deliriously, because of it - Kagewaki just kept going. He slammed his hips against hers again and again, driving his length inside her to the hilt, his speed increasing as he neared his peak.
She cracked her eyes open when he finally paused. It took her a moment to realize that he had spilled his seed inside of her and was pulling out. She released a breath she had not quite realized she was holding, in a deep, shuddering sigh.
For a long moment, she thought he might stay beside her that night, as he paused to examine her. He seemed surprisingly dispassionate, considering what had just happened, but she found that she could not hold his gaze and had to look away. Shame burned inside her. In the end, Kagewaki seemed satisfied by what he saw, for he leaned close to whisper that he would return soon, and then departed.
Even though she was finally alone, sleep seemed like little more than a faraway dream. Kagewaki's quietly whispered promise to return the next night echoed in her ears, haunting her as soon as she closed her eyes. She felt again the rough harshness of his body against hers. An echoing pain throbbed in her back. She rolled onto her side to relieve the pressure, but the movement only seemed to make things worse.
Hesitantly, she touched gentle fingers between her legs, inspecting for damage, half expecting to find blood. It seemed a small miracle that she found none. She felt raw inside and out.
Shivering and miserable, she groped in the dark for the blanket and pulled it tightly around her.
Everything had gone so wrong...
-----
The servants returned in the morning. They brought fresh clothes and bandages with them, but no water to wash with. Sango ignored them, preferring to stare at the wall and pretend that nothing had happened last night.
It hurt more than she had thought it would, both physically and emotionally. She felt nearly overwhelmed by the sense of helplessness, the inability to fight or defend herself. It was strong enough that she clung to the clothes and bedding around her and wished never to leave again. She was a demon slayer, and had always been strong enough to fend for herself. And when she had not, she had been able to rely on the other slayers to keep her safe. She had never faced the plight of an ordinary woman. Her father had begun her training early, and had seen to it that she knew how to defend herself from any attack, whether her attacker was human or demon in nature.
She had thought herself strong enough to handle anything. Not so, now.
She had been made aware, if only distantly, that some men made use of unwilling women for their own gratification, and that she would be obligated not to decline if a lord ever demanded her presence for such a service... but she had never thought such a thing would come to pass.
And now that it had, she lay numbly in the half-dark and drew her knees to her chest, heedless of the strain it put on her injured back, and shuddered. Slayer women did not succumb to sorrow, or to pain. No one had ever told her if slayer women might succumb to shame. She had been the best in her village; what need had she of shame?
But now she was alone, truly, inescapably alone, for the first time in her life. There was no one left to question, no one to reassure her or protect her while she was weak.
Tears pricked at her eyes, the first she had cried since everything went wrong. She wiped them angrily away, but they would not be stopped and more soon followed.
She thought of her father and brother and of all that she had lost, of friends and comrades in arms, even of her mother, that half-remembered woman from her childhood. They had been strong, all of them. They had been her lifeline. Now all that she had left of any of them was her memory.
And, as the tears began to flow freely down her face, she let her memories loose. There were many good memories to counteract the recent painful ones, but it seemed all they did was remind her of happiness that was lost forever.
She remembered smiling and laughing with both of her parents, before Kohaku's birth. She remembered playing with her brother, and teaching him to fight. She remembered the pride she had felt on the battlefield beside her family, helping wealthy lords or whole villages deal with demon infestations. But the haze of dark clouds seemed to lurk ever on the horizon.
She remembered a time, when she was still young, that her father had gone on an extermination mission with her mother. He had returned without her, and he had never been the same. For days, he spoke to no one and kept to himself. But he knew all along that he had two young children and an entire village counting on him... and so he had picked himself back up and carried on. Sango thought of her father as he had been then, and the image of him as he died with Kohaku's chain scythe in his neck flashed before her eyes.
Her father had been strong, for the sake of his village, his people, and his family. And now, as the last of the demon slayers, the last survivor of her village, Sango knew she would have to do the same.
And she knew, with the sudden certainty that comes when there are no more tears to shed, that when she was able to fight back, this was going to end.
-----
Kagewaki visited every day. And every night he came to her bed.
Sango's nights became so filled with nightmares that she found it difficult to sleep. When she did not remember waking in her own grave, she recalled the brutal destruction of her father, her brother, the other demon slayers, the village... or her battle with the demon Inuyasha, fighting for her life against the one that had destroyed what was left of her world.
When she did not face battle in her dreams, she faced Lord Kagewaki. Sometimes it almost seemed that he loved her, but then he would become violent and depraved. Sometimes there was only the abuse, the constant reminder that she was both alone and powerless.
Her days were filled with empty silence.
The servants didn't speak. They never spoke, never even gave the slightest hint that they even wanted to. They performed their tasks efficiently, in silence, and then went away. Sango did not know if they had been told not to speak to her or if they simply could not.
Regardless of the reason, it put her on edge. And it filled her, too, with a strange sense of sorrow to find only specters where she might have hoped for friends.
It was ten days, give or take, before Sango was well enough to leave her bed and wander falteringly about the room.She felt very weak, but it appeared that the worst of her recovery was behind her. Twinges of pain still plagued her, but she recognized the small aches and pains as those of muscles gone too long into disuse, not the pain of flesh struggling to knit itself whole again.
The days passed more swiftly then, as she began to spend time out of her bed. At first she walked circles around the room. When she was strong enough she began to stretch her sore muscles and to work through the most basic exercises of her training. She was pleased to discover that, with a little effort, her body was as strong and flexible as it had been before she was injured. It would be a while yet before she reached that point, but it felt almost within her grasp.
Kagewaki continued his daily visits, as did servants and healers, and she pretended weakness and they seemed oblivious to her progress. If Kagewaki knew she was getting stronger, that she was planning to leave, she feared he might attempt to stop her. She couldn't let him do that; there were too many things that she needed to do in the world. Her thoughts returned, increasingly, to the ruins of her home. She imagined the bodies of friends and loved ones strewn about the streets, and huts - homes - collapsed and destroyed. Someone needed to clean the place up, to perform rites for the dead, to begin training the next generation of slayers, and it became almost her dream to do so.
It was a dream that Kagewaki crushed a little bit more every day when he visited, particularly when he lingered. And as the days went by, he stayed beside her longer and longer. His touch had become possessive, almost appreciative. She knew that he would be loathe to allow her to leave, to strike out on her own, to resume the trade that had nearly killed her. She feared that he would want her to stay, to become some sort of courtesan or even a wife.
And one day, after what she supposed he might call their nightly love-making, he remained beside her, and seemed almost thoughtful. His hands roamed gently over her body, which shivered and shuddered beneath his touch - though not for the reasons he probably thought - and he said the words that she had been dreading: "Be my wife, Sango. Bear me strong children."
She had no easy answer for that.
She had no desire to marry Lord Kagewaki. She was a demon slayer. She had always assumed that her children would grow up to be demon slayers, and her children's children after them. She was the daughter of a village headman, but their family was of common stock and as such she had never truly given thought to the idea that her children might also be the children of some noble family.
And, beyond all that, no matter how kind he had been to her, no matter how much he claimed to care for her, he had still taken grave advantage of her.
"No," she said, finally. "There are other things I must do first, before I can consider getting married."
"You would deny me? And give up all of this?"
Anger and indignation flashed through her. She pushed herself upright in order to glare at him directly, rather than look up at him. "This will not continue," she said, steel creeping into her voice. He would know what she meant, and even if he did not, she no longer cared. "You have my thanks for all that you have done for me, but I am done with this, and I will not be your wife."
He was silent a moment, his serene expression never faltering. It was almost as if he didn't care that she had turned him down. She supposed that it did not matter, but was determined to fight him tooth and nail if he tried to take her tonight. She felt strong enough. She might have a chance. She almost yearned for it. But it never came.
"As you wish," was all he said, and then was gone.
Sango breathed a sigh of relief, but she did not sleep that night.
-----
Kagewaki was late. He had visited her every day without fail since her return, but it seemed that he would not be coming today. Sango did not know whether to be nervous or relieved.
When the door finally slid open, she did not even turn to look.
"Lord Kagewaki sends his regrets, but he is unable to attend you today, Lady Sango."
Naraku.
It was now almost a month, so far as she could reckon, since she had come to stay in Lord Kagewaki's castle, and she had not seen him in all that time. She had hoped never to see him again.He made her feel ill at ease with even the humblest of actions; even now, she found herself yearning for the weapons hidden in her discarded armor, or at least a knife to slip up the sleeve of her yukata.She was alone with Naraku, and defenseless. The thought terrified her even more than the demon that had slain her village singlehandedly.
"Lord Naraku." She pushed herself upright and nodded slightly, but gave no further sign of respect or acknowledgment.
"Lord Kagewaki asked that I check on your progress."
"I am alive."
"I can see as much. There has been no improvement, then?"
Sango frowned. "I grow stronger by the day, but it is a slow process. My wounds are healing. Soon, I may be strong enough to walk again. Someday, I may be able to resume my trade." The hope she voiced was real, though she had doubts about her ability to carry on as a demon slayer without her friends and family.
"You would return to the profession that caused your entire family to be killed?"
She half shrugged. "I know of no other path."
"Most women choose to be wives and mothers." The only ones that did not were the miko, and they both knew that Sango was no holy woman.
"It is not for me." There was bitterness in her voice and she did not hide it well. She had known what the consequences would be when she turned Kagewaki down; who else would marry damaged goods? She had not even beauty to aid her, now, for her injuries had left her terribly scarred. There was nothing left but to keep fighting. Someone had to train more slayers, or the trade would die with her. If she married Kagewaki, the end of her family's line was assured. If she did not... there was still a chance.
"The healers tell me that you have not yet resumed your cycle," Naraku commented suddenly, as if it were the most appropriate topic in all the world.
Sango let her eyes drift shut angrily. How dare the servants inform Naraku of such personal things! She thought of protesting that it was none of his concern, but had a feeling he would pry anyway until she gave him some sort of definitive answer. "Yes, it is true. My injuries were… severe, and I have not yet fully recovered. My body is still out of balance."
He looked thoughtful at that, but seemed to have nothing more to say and excused himself shortly after.
When she was certain that he was gone, she slipped out of her bed and paced the room. She felt vaguely like a caged tiger, but knew she needed to be patient. She was currently in no position to make demands, and she would need to be able to stand firm should Kagewaki or Naraku protest to her demand to be set free. Once, she had trusted Kagewaki, had thought he had her best interests in mind, in spite of his mistreatment. After his reaction when she turned down his proposal, a quiet acceptance that made her more nervous than any angry or jealous outburst might have, she had her doubts. And now...
She was certain that Naraku's probing was at Kagewaki's behest, or at least an attempt to look out for his lord's best interests. His questions... did he know that Kagewaki had lain with her? Did he think she might be with child? She did not think it was likely, but shuddered nonetheless.
There was more to this situation than she had thought before, and she did not like it one bit.
-----
Sango had not thought, at this point, that she would ever be glad to see Kagewaki again. But after Naraku's visit and probing, personal questions, she was looking forward to seeing the young lord. He, at least, was for the most part kind and gentle, even if he did not realize that his overtures toward her were unwanted and his feelings were destined to remain unreturned.
And so she was unreasonably angry when it was Naraku that came to visit her again the next day. She gave him no recognition beyond an icy glare, and did not even bother to rise from her bed. Let him know that his presence was undesired; perhaps then Lord Kagewaki would let her have her way and order Naraku to leave her in peace.
"Sango," he greeted, apparently oblivious to the way she hated the familiarity in his voice. It was difficult to tell what he was really thinking, with that baboon mask covering his face. "You seem... restive today."
"Go away," she said bluntly.
"Now, now, Lord Kagewaki sent me to check on you, and I must not fail in my duties."
"Then tell him I turned you away," she insisted. "I will take the blame myself."
But he stood, just inside the doorway, and it seemed he would not go away no matter what she said.
"Why is it, I wonder," he mused, "that you take such offense to my concern for your well-being?"
"My well-being is none of your concern," she retorted through gritted teeth. "And I do not appreciate you asking me such personal questions. If Lord Kagewaki wishes to know how I am doing, tell him he may come see for himself."
"I do not think Lord Kagewaki would be pleased to hear you say that." Something in the tone of his voice had shifted subtly, and it set her on edge. She glowered at him, and he went on. "Lord Kagewaki is a busy man, with many obligations. It is improper to demand that he attend you himself."
She continued to glare at him and said nothing. Undeterred, he stepped closer.
"I think," he said slowly, "that you are up to something, Sango." When she stubbornly refused to say anything, he added, "You must have some scheme in place, here. And I intend to find out what it is."
He strode across the room then, so quickly that for an instant she thought he intended to strike her. She did not flinch, merely closed her eyes, but the blow never came.
Instead, Naraku towered over her, then reached down, grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet. She grunted, her body painfully protesting such rough treatment. Dispassionately, Naraku stared at her for a long moment, and then tossed her backward as if she weighed nothing. There was not enough force behind it to send her very far, but she reeled backward, stumbling awkwardly before she finally found her balance. It wasn't until she had drawn herself upright to meet his eyes that she realized she had forgotten to feign frailty this time.
"My, my, this is certainly an interesting development," he murmured, almost thoughtfully. His gaze roamed over her body, undoubtedly quite visible through the thin yukata she had been given to wear, and made her skin crawl. "You must have been hiding this for a while now, but you've always been stronger than an ordinary woman, haven't you, Sango?"
No longer able to articulate or contain her fury, Sango slapped him. The blow was hard enough to make her hand sting, and to crack that damned baboon mask.
Naraku chuckled, a low, reverberating sound that sent a shiver down her spine. "Does my choice of attire displease you, Sango?" He reached up with one hand, making no move toward her, and crushed the baboon's skull in his hand. Sango's heart stopped as the fragments of bone fell away.
Under the mask, Naraku bore Kagewaki's face. Sango recoiled, horrified. Anger boiled under the surface, spilled over. Had she been deceived all this time?
"I - I'm leaving," she managed, barely concealing the distaste in her voice. She stepped backward instinctively, knowing that the door was behind her. "I can't stay here anymore..."
"I'm afraid I cannot allow you to leave, Sango."
"Is it Lord Kagewaki that says I may not leave, or you, Naraku?"
His expression altered for barely a moment, shifting into something that might have been anger or disgust before slipping back into his customary neutrality. "It is of no consequence. We are the same, after all."
"You cannot keep me here."
"Can't I?"
She bristled at the challenge, and took off. If he was surprised at her ability to spring away and run unsupported - albeit unsteadily - he did not give any sign.
She almost made it to the door. Almost. Her outstretched hand slammed, hard, against an invisible something and she came to a sudden, jarring halt. The air crackled with so much energy that she felt ill. Bile rose in her throat, and the world seemed to vibrate and shimmer dizzyingly around her.Dumbly, she realized that she'd been trapped behind a barrier without even noticing.
She pushed herself away from the barrier and turned to face her captor.
The transformation happened so quickly that she did not see what was happening until it was too late to escape. Naraku's body pulsed, shifting, growing... tentacles sprouted where legs had been and grew swiftly, filling the room with writhing, twisting flesh, like some obscene octopus. The fleshy tendrils gripped her tightly, ensuring that she could not escape even if her strength had fully returned. She struggled in his grip, gagging on something foul that must have been demonic shouki. It burned her lungs and stole her breath until she was too weak to fight back.
Through the haze, she heard Naraku's voice. "I need you alive, Sango."
"I am no man's plaything," she wheezed. "I'd rather die."
Naraku's smile only grew wider. "Do you not feel it, Sango? The darkness growing inside of you."
She felt only anger and despair; was that what he meant by 'darkness'? One of the tentacles brushed against her chin and tilted it upward, forcing her to look at him. For a long time they remained, eye-to-eye, staring. It was almost as if he could sense the hatred burning in her heart, but his cruel smile never faltered.
Finally: "You'll stay here until I have no more use for you." Suddenly, he released her and retreated, as if he had never been there in the first place. She landed awkwardly, jamming an ankle against the floor, and remained where she fell. It was a long time before she summoned the resolve to move, and then to hobble once more about the room that had become her prison cell. The barrier persisted, a mere hands-breadth from the wall on all sides, effectively caging her.
Sango seethed. She was still trapped behind the barrier, but thankfully alone at last. Naraku's words echoed in her head.I need you alive, Sango.
With shaking hands and fumbling fingers, she ripped the obi free from her yukata. If he needed her alive, then she would die. He had left her no sword, no weapon, not even her collection of poisons. And therefore she had no choice. She looped the rope around her neck and pulled it tight until she choked. She knotted it once, twice and forced her hands away, her resolve crumbling as she grew lightheaded and certainty began to ebb.
Her legs were suddenly unable to support her weight, and she slipped to the floor, gasping uselessly for air. Her hands moved of their own volition, clawing at the rope around her neck in a vain attempt to save her life.
As her vision faded into red, she was only vaguely aware of the door sliding open, of hurried footfalls against the mats on the floor.And then... everything went black.
Chapter Two
Sango woke from the dark, dreamless sleep of the dead with a faint feeling of regret. Her heart beat sluggishly in her chest, and her breaths were cramped by bandages wrapped tightly around her torso. Her eyes drifted open and stared sightlessly upward until her vision began to clear. It took her a long time to realize that the ceiling she was staring at was familiar; she had been in this room before.
This was the room where she had been left to heal, in Kagewaki's castle. She wondered for a moment if her battle against Inuyasha had been merely a dream, but her deteriorated condition told her it had really happened, which begged the question...
How did I get back here?
Even her mind felt slow, sluggishly struggling to connect thoughts or to piece together what had happened. Had Naraku brought her back to this place? She could remember little of the past few days, little beyond the pain of her injuries. Through the haze of pain, she was almost certain that she remembered embarking on a doomed journey to her village in search of vengeance, and -
"You're awake."
She had not even realized that she was not alone.Vaguely, she recognized that it was Lord Kagewaki who sat beside her, and that he had continued speaking while she wondered if he was truly there, or simply some fevered imagining.
" – But I will see to it that you receive the care you need, until you are well again."
"Thank you," she croaked, in a voice she barely recognized as her own. Her mouth would not form the syllables of his name. He did not seem to mind the informality.
"You should rest," he urged. It was almost as if he sensed the deep wave of exhaustion that had risen up, threatening to overwhelm her. "I will send servants with food and water, and a healer to see to your wounds."
His words fell on deaf ears, for Sango was already drifting away.
-----
Some time later, Sango awoke again, this time to the sensation that her body was on fire. Her skin tingled and itched and burned around each of her numerous injuries; she knew it was a sign that she was, against all odds, healing. She realized, with no small amount of disgust, that she might survive this. And she hated it. Why should she live while all of her comrades died? Her hard-won vengeance mattered little if she were to end up all alone, unable to join her friends and family in the underworld.
She had planned to die... but death now seemed out of reach. There was suicide, of course, but demon slayers were not so weak or easily dishonored as to resort to such measures. Given no real choice, she began to collect herself.
She still lacked the strength to move, but she felt more aware than before. When she yearned for the bleak emptiness that had taken her earlier, it would not come. It might take days, or even weeks, of recovery, but she no longer felt the touch of death.
There was no sign of Lord Kagewaki. All around was only the silence of emptiness. It occurred to her that perhaps it was late at night. It was certainly dark enough, the room being lit by only a single candle in the corner.
She lay in silence and stared at the ceiling and felt a vague sense of unease shiver across her skin.
-----
Lord Kagewaki visited her every day after that, and brought memories with him. She remembered his kindness, and felt a small smile form on her lips. She recalled his abuse of her body, and hated him, but could not quite reconcile the two memories. Which was closer to the true Kagewaki, she would wonder idly after he had left, the kind and gentle young man, or the one that ruthlessly took whatever he wanted?
His next visit saw her inching toward recovery, but no closer to the answer she sought. As before, he sat beside her and spoke quietly, informing her of inconsequential things and inquiring after the quality of her care. Sango lay on her futon and only half listened, even though Kagewaki held her hand as he spoke. Before he departed, he bowed his head and pressed his lips to her flesh, and she saw in his eyes that he wanted more. There was a hunger in those eyes that she had seen before. She did not like it one bit.
She spent the afternoon alone, mulling over the possibilities that look might entail. In the end, she decided that he had taken what he wanted once, regardless of the fact that she had been dying. The man would not hesitate to do so again. The idea made her seethe with anger, but she accepted that there was little she could do to stop him... not yet.
And so she was prepared when two women came after her evening meal had been served, armed with a great tub of unpleasantly cold water, and wash-rags with which to bathe her. They washed her where she lay, gently scrubbing, but heedless of her offended modesty. She had to admit that it felt wonderful to be clean of grime and dried blood, but a strong sense of foreboding gnawed at her gut, spurred by the servants' strange silence. She was glad they did not speak to her, for she did not trust her voice, but found it worrisome that they did not converse amongst themselves, not even to comment on the severity of her injuries.
They took her clothing with them when they left, content to leave her naked and chilled, with only a blanket to cover herself. She lay down upon the futon, feeling supremely self-conscious without even bandages to cover her wounds, and feigned sleep. She hoped that perhaps Kagewaki would leave her be if she seemed to be resting. She did not have to wait long to find out.
Kagewaki's entrance was accompanied only by the soft sound of the door sliding open and shut again, and by the steps of bare feet across the tatami mats. He came to a stop a short distance behind her and said nothing; she wondered if he was appraising the situation or simply taking stock of the damage.
She had deliberately positioned herself so that her back faced the door, in the hopes that the sight of her still-healing wounds would dissuade him from whatever course he had set. For a long time there was silence, as he stood and watched her. Something pulsed faintly in her back. She felt a twinge of discomfort and wished for bandages to bind the wound. Finally, he called her name, but she pretended not to hear and hoped he would give up and go away.
He did not leave. Instead, he crouched beside her and gently laid his hand, not on her shoulder, but on the wound in her back. His hand was cold against the heated, inflamed flesh. And when he pressed against her - agony. Her body spasmed involuntarily from the pain; she cried out, her voice rough and hoarse at once, and knew there was no way she could pretend to be unaware now. She gasped for breath, red tinging the edges of her vision.
"Are you in pain, Sango?"
She shuddered and would not answer. His hand slid down her back, trailed over her buttocks, and curved up again over the rise of her hip where it lingered for a moment. And then he pressed, urging her hips toward him and down to the floor until her spine twisted painfully and she rolled onto her back. She hissed in pain, but would not give him the satisfaction of voicing it; he knew he was hurting her, and chose to go on anyway.
She closed her eyes against the sight of him moving over her, pushing the blanket out of the way; she squeezed them ever tighter at the sudden feeling of his hand between her legs. She clamped her legs instinctively shut, muscles tightening almost painfully across her belly as fear took her. She felt him shift, looming over her, using his hand and a well-placed knee to force her legs open.
"Please... don't..." she rasped, but he gave no sign of having heard her.
There was the rustle of fabric and his robe came open; she could feel the edges of the fabric against her hips. She moved instinctively to slap him away, but her arms were weak and would not obey her, flopping uselessly to the side.
Kagewaki's fingers found her core again, probing, guiding. A moment later, he thrust inside of her, his member hot and hard and, it seemed, much too large to fit. Her body did not welcome the sudden intrusion, but he paid scant attention to her discomfort. Instead, he began moving quickly, thrusting wildly against her.
She recalled no specific pain from their last encounter, only the overwhelming numbness that went hand in hand with her injuries and the loss of everything she had ever loved. This time, the shock was enough to make her fear she might be split in two. Obviously aroused in spite of her pain - or, perhaps, she thought deliriously, because of it - Kagewaki just kept going. He slammed his hips against hers again and again, driving his length inside her to the hilt, his speed increasing as he neared his peak.
She cracked her eyes open when he finally paused. It took her a moment to realize that he had spilled his seed inside of her and was pulling out. She released a breath she had not quite realized she was holding, in a deep, shuddering sigh.
For a long moment, she thought he might stay beside her that night, as he paused to examine her. He seemed surprisingly dispassionate, considering what had just happened, but she found that she could not hold his gaze and had to look away. Shame burned inside her. In the end, Kagewaki seemed satisfied by what he saw, for he leaned close to whisper that he would return soon, and then departed.
Even though she was finally alone, sleep seemed like little more than a faraway dream. Kagewaki's quietly whispered promise to return the next night echoed in her ears, haunting her as soon as she closed her eyes. She felt again the rough harshness of his body against hers. An echoing pain throbbed in her back. She rolled onto her side to relieve the pressure, but the movement only seemed to make things worse.
Hesitantly, she touched gentle fingers between her legs, inspecting for damage, half expecting to find blood. It seemed a small miracle that she found none. She felt raw inside and out.
Shivering and miserable, she groped in the dark for the blanket and pulled it tightly around her.
Everything had gone so wrong...
-----
The servants returned in the morning. They brought fresh clothes and bandages with them, but no water to wash with. Sango ignored them, preferring to stare at the wall and pretend that nothing had happened last night.
It hurt more than she had thought it would, both physically and emotionally. She felt nearly overwhelmed by the sense of helplessness, the inability to fight or defend herself. It was strong enough that she clung to the clothes and bedding around her and wished never to leave again. She was a demon slayer, and had always been strong enough to fend for herself. And when she had not, she had been able to rely on the other slayers to keep her safe. She had never faced the plight of an ordinary woman. Her father had begun her training early, and had seen to it that she knew how to defend herself from any attack, whether her attacker was human or demon in nature.
She had thought herself strong enough to handle anything. Not so, now.
She had been made aware, if only distantly, that some men made use of unwilling women for their own gratification, and that she would be obligated not to decline if a lord ever demanded her presence for such a service... but she had never thought such a thing would come to pass.
And now that it had, she lay numbly in the half-dark and drew her knees to her chest, heedless of the strain it put on her injured back, and shuddered. Slayer women did not succumb to sorrow, or to pain. No one had ever told her if slayer women might succumb to shame. She had been the best in her village; what need had she of shame?
But now she was alone, truly, inescapably alone, for the first time in her life. There was no one left to question, no one to reassure her or protect her while she was weak.
Tears pricked at her eyes, the first she had cried since everything went wrong. She wiped them angrily away, but they would not be stopped and more soon followed.
She thought of her father and brother and of all that she had lost, of friends and comrades in arms, even of her mother, that half-remembered woman from her childhood. They had been strong, all of them. They had been her lifeline. Now all that she had left of any of them was her memory.
And, as the tears began to flow freely down her face, she let her memories loose. There were many good memories to counteract the recent painful ones, but it seemed all they did was remind her of happiness that was lost forever.
She remembered smiling and laughing with both of her parents, before Kohaku's birth. She remembered playing with her brother, and teaching him to fight. She remembered the pride she had felt on the battlefield beside her family, helping wealthy lords or whole villages deal with demon infestations. But the haze of dark clouds seemed to lurk ever on the horizon.
She remembered a time, when she was still young, that her father had gone on an extermination mission with her mother. He had returned without her, and he had never been the same. For days, he spoke to no one and kept to himself. But he knew all along that he had two young children and an entire village counting on him... and so he had picked himself back up and carried on. Sango thought of her father as he had been then, and the image of him as he died with Kohaku's chain scythe in his neck flashed before her eyes.
Her father had been strong, for the sake of his village, his people, and his family. And now, as the last of the demon slayers, the last survivor of her village, Sango knew she would have to do the same.
And she knew, with the sudden certainty that comes when there are no more tears to shed, that when she was able to fight back, this was going to end.
-----
Kagewaki visited every day. And every night he came to her bed.
Sango's nights became so filled with nightmares that she found it difficult to sleep. When she did not remember waking in her own grave, she recalled the brutal destruction of her father, her brother, the other demon slayers, the village... or her battle with the demon Inuyasha, fighting for her life against the one that had destroyed what was left of her world.
When she did not face battle in her dreams, she faced Lord Kagewaki. Sometimes it almost seemed that he loved her, but then he would become violent and depraved. Sometimes there was only the abuse, the constant reminder that she was both alone and powerless.
Her days were filled with empty silence.
The servants didn't speak. They never spoke, never even gave the slightest hint that they even wanted to. They performed their tasks efficiently, in silence, and then went away. Sango did not know if they had been told not to speak to her or if they simply could not.
Regardless of the reason, it put her on edge. And it filled her, too, with a strange sense of sorrow to find only specters where she might have hoped for friends.
It was ten days, give or take, before Sango was well enough to leave her bed and wander falteringly about the room.She felt very weak, but it appeared that the worst of her recovery was behind her. Twinges of pain still plagued her, but she recognized the small aches and pains as those of muscles gone too long into disuse, not the pain of flesh struggling to knit itself whole again.
The days passed more swiftly then, as she began to spend time out of her bed. At first she walked circles around the room. When she was strong enough she began to stretch her sore muscles and to work through the most basic exercises of her training. She was pleased to discover that, with a little effort, her body was as strong and flexible as it had been before she was injured. It would be a while yet before she reached that point, but it felt almost within her grasp.
Kagewaki continued his daily visits, as did servants and healers, and she pretended weakness and they seemed oblivious to her progress. If Kagewaki knew she was getting stronger, that she was planning to leave, she feared he might attempt to stop her. She couldn't let him do that; there were too many things that she needed to do in the world. Her thoughts returned, increasingly, to the ruins of her home. She imagined the bodies of friends and loved ones strewn about the streets, and huts - homes - collapsed and destroyed. Someone needed to clean the place up, to perform rites for the dead, to begin training the next generation of slayers, and it became almost her dream to do so.
It was a dream that Kagewaki crushed a little bit more every day when he visited, particularly when he lingered. And as the days went by, he stayed beside her longer and longer. His touch had become possessive, almost appreciative. She knew that he would be loathe to allow her to leave, to strike out on her own, to resume the trade that had nearly killed her. She feared that he would want her to stay, to become some sort of courtesan or even a wife.
And one day, after what she supposed he might call their nightly love-making, he remained beside her, and seemed almost thoughtful. His hands roamed gently over her body, which shivered and shuddered beneath his touch - though not for the reasons he probably thought - and he said the words that she had been dreading: "Be my wife, Sango. Bear me strong children."
She had no easy answer for that.
She had no desire to marry Lord Kagewaki. She was a demon slayer. She had always assumed that her children would grow up to be demon slayers, and her children's children after them. She was the daughter of a village headman, but their family was of common stock and as such she had never truly given thought to the idea that her children might also be the children of some noble family.
And, beyond all that, no matter how kind he had been to her, no matter how much he claimed to care for her, he had still taken grave advantage of her.
"No," she said, finally. "There are other things I must do first, before I can consider getting married."
"You would deny me? And give up all of this?"
Anger and indignation flashed through her. She pushed herself upright in order to glare at him directly, rather than look up at him. "This will not continue," she said, steel creeping into her voice. He would know what she meant, and even if he did not, she no longer cared. "You have my thanks for all that you have done for me, but I am done with this, and I will not be your wife."
He was silent a moment, his serene expression never faltering. It was almost as if he didn't care that she had turned him down. She supposed that it did not matter, but was determined to fight him tooth and nail if he tried to take her tonight. She felt strong enough. She might have a chance. She almost yearned for it. But it never came.
"As you wish," was all he said, and then was gone.
Sango breathed a sigh of relief, but she did not sleep that night.
-----
Kagewaki was late. He had visited her every day without fail since her return, but it seemed that he would not be coming today. Sango did not know whether to be nervous or relieved.
When the door finally slid open, she did not even turn to look.
"Lord Kagewaki sends his regrets, but he is unable to attend you today, Lady Sango."
Naraku.
It was now almost a month, so far as she could reckon, since she had come to stay in Lord Kagewaki's castle, and she had not seen him in all that time. She had hoped never to see him again.He made her feel ill at ease with even the humblest of actions; even now, she found herself yearning for the weapons hidden in her discarded armor, or at least a knife to slip up the sleeve of her yukata.She was alone with Naraku, and defenseless. The thought terrified her even more than the demon that had slain her village singlehandedly.
"Lord Naraku." She pushed herself upright and nodded slightly, but gave no further sign of respect or acknowledgment.
"Lord Kagewaki asked that I check on your progress."
"I am alive."
"I can see as much. There has been no improvement, then?"
Sango frowned. "I grow stronger by the day, but it is a slow process. My wounds are healing. Soon, I may be strong enough to walk again. Someday, I may be able to resume my trade." The hope she voiced was real, though she had doubts about her ability to carry on as a demon slayer without her friends and family.
"You would return to the profession that caused your entire family to be killed?"
She half shrugged. "I know of no other path."
"Most women choose to be wives and mothers." The only ones that did not were the miko, and they both knew that Sango was no holy woman.
"It is not for me." There was bitterness in her voice and she did not hide it well. She had known what the consequences would be when she turned Kagewaki down; who else would marry damaged goods? She had not even beauty to aid her, now, for her injuries had left her terribly scarred. There was nothing left but to keep fighting. Someone had to train more slayers, or the trade would die with her. If she married Kagewaki, the end of her family's line was assured. If she did not... there was still a chance.
"The healers tell me that you have not yet resumed your cycle," Naraku commented suddenly, as if it were the most appropriate topic in all the world.
Sango let her eyes drift shut angrily. How dare the servants inform Naraku of such personal things! She thought of protesting that it was none of his concern, but had a feeling he would pry anyway until she gave him some sort of definitive answer. "Yes, it is true. My injuries were… severe, and I have not yet fully recovered. My body is still out of balance."
He looked thoughtful at that, but seemed to have nothing more to say and excused himself shortly after.
When she was certain that he was gone, she slipped out of her bed and paced the room. She felt vaguely like a caged tiger, but knew she needed to be patient. She was currently in no position to make demands, and she would need to be able to stand firm should Kagewaki or Naraku protest to her demand to be set free. Once, she had trusted Kagewaki, had thought he had her best interests in mind, in spite of his mistreatment. After his reaction when she turned down his proposal, a quiet acceptance that made her more nervous than any angry or jealous outburst might have, she had her doubts. And now...
She was certain that Naraku's probing was at Kagewaki's behest, or at least an attempt to look out for his lord's best interests. His questions... did he know that Kagewaki had lain with her? Did he think she might be with child? She did not think it was likely, but shuddered nonetheless.
There was more to this situation than she had thought before, and she did not like it one bit.
-----
Sango had not thought, at this point, that she would ever be glad to see Kagewaki again. But after Naraku's visit and probing, personal questions, she was looking forward to seeing the young lord. He, at least, was for the most part kind and gentle, even if he did not realize that his overtures toward her were unwanted and his feelings were destined to remain unreturned.
And so she was unreasonably angry when it was Naraku that came to visit her again the next day. She gave him no recognition beyond an icy glare, and did not even bother to rise from her bed. Let him know that his presence was undesired; perhaps then Lord Kagewaki would let her have her way and order Naraku to leave her in peace.
"Sango," he greeted, apparently oblivious to the way she hated the familiarity in his voice. It was difficult to tell what he was really thinking, with that baboon mask covering his face. "You seem... restive today."
"Go away," she said bluntly.
"Now, now, Lord Kagewaki sent me to check on you, and I must not fail in my duties."
"Then tell him I turned you away," she insisted. "I will take the blame myself."
But he stood, just inside the doorway, and it seemed he would not go away no matter what she said.
"Why is it, I wonder," he mused, "that you take such offense to my concern for your well-being?"
"My well-being is none of your concern," she retorted through gritted teeth. "And I do not appreciate you asking me such personal questions. If Lord Kagewaki wishes to know how I am doing, tell him he may come see for himself."
"I do not think Lord Kagewaki would be pleased to hear you say that." Something in the tone of his voice had shifted subtly, and it set her on edge. She glowered at him, and he went on. "Lord Kagewaki is a busy man, with many obligations. It is improper to demand that he attend you himself."
She continued to glare at him and said nothing. Undeterred, he stepped closer.
"I think," he said slowly, "that you are up to something, Sango." When she stubbornly refused to say anything, he added, "You must have some scheme in place, here. And I intend to find out what it is."
He strode across the room then, so quickly that for an instant she thought he intended to strike her. She did not flinch, merely closed her eyes, but the blow never came.
Instead, Naraku towered over her, then reached down, grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet. She grunted, her body painfully protesting such rough treatment. Dispassionately, Naraku stared at her for a long moment, and then tossed her backward as if she weighed nothing. There was not enough force behind it to send her very far, but she reeled backward, stumbling awkwardly before she finally found her balance. It wasn't until she had drawn herself upright to meet his eyes that she realized she had forgotten to feign frailty this time.
"My, my, this is certainly an interesting development," he murmured, almost thoughtfully. His gaze roamed over her body, undoubtedly quite visible through the thin yukata she had been given to wear, and made her skin crawl. "You must have been hiding this for a while now, but you've always been stronger than an ordinary woman, haven't you, Sango?"
No longer able to articulate or contain her fury, Sango slapped him. The blow was hard enough to make her hand sting, and to crack that damned baboon mask.
Naraku chuckled, a low, reverberating sound that sent a shiver down her spine. "Does my choice of attire displease you, Sango?" He reached up with one hand, making no move toward her, and crushed the baboon's skull in his hand. Sango's heart stopped as the fragments of bone fell away.
Under the mask, Naraku bore Kagewaki's face. Sango recoiled, horrified. Anger boiled under the surface, spilled over. Had she been deceived all this time?
"I - I'm leaving," she managed, barely concealing the distaste in her voice. She stepped backward instinctively, knowing that the door was behind her. "I can't stay here anymore..."
"I'm afraid I cannot allow you to leave, Sango."
"Is it Lord Kagewaki that says I may not leave, or you, Naraku?"
His expression altered for barely a moment, shifting into something that might have been anger or disgust before slipping back into his customary neutrality. "It is of no consequence. We are the same, after all."
"You cannot keep me here."
"Can't I?"
She bristled at the challenge, and took off. If he was surprised at her ability to spring away and run unsupported - albeit unsteadily - he did not give any sign.
She almost made it to the door. Almost. Her outstretched hand slammed, hard, against an invisible something and she came to a sudden, jarring halt. The air crackled with so much energy that she felt ill. Bile rose in her throat, and the world seemed to vibrate and shimmer dizzyingly around her.Dumbly, she realized that she'd been trapped behind a barrier without even noticing.
She pushed herself away from the barrier and turned to face her captor.
The transformation happened so quickly that she did not see what was happening until it was too late to escape. Naraku's body pulsed, shifting, growing... tentacles sprouted where legs had been and grew swiftly, filling the room with writhing, twisting flesh, like some obscene octopus. The fleshy tendrils gripped her tightly, ensuring that she could not escape even if her strength had fully returned. She struggled in his grip, gagging on something foul that must have been demonic shouki. It burned her lungs and stole her breath until she was too weak to fight back.
Through the haze, she heard Naraku's voice. "I need you alive, Sango."
"I am no man's plaything," she wheezed. "I'd rather die."
Naraku's smile only grew wider. "Do you not feel it, Sango? The darkness growing inside of you."
She felt only anger and despair; was that what he meant by 'darkness'? One of the tentacles brushed against her chin and tilted it upward, forcing her to look at him. For a long time they remained, eye-to-eye, staring. It was almost as if he could sense the hatred burning in her heart, but his cruel smile never faltered.
Finally: "You'll stay here until I have no more use for you." Suddenly, he released her and retreated, as if he had never been there in the first place. She landed awkwardly, jamming an ankle against the floor, and remained where she fell. It was a long time before she summoned the resolve to move, and then to hobble once more about the room that had become her prison cell. The barrier persisted, a mere hands-breadth from the wall on all sides, effectively caging her.
Sango seethed. She was still trapped behind the barrier, but thankfully alone at last. Naraku's words echoed in her head.I need you alive, Sango.
With shaking hands and fumbling fingers, she ripped the obi free from her yukata. If he needed her alive, then she would die. He had left her no sword, no weapon, not even her collection of poisons. And therefore she had no choice. She looped the rope around her neck and pulled it tight until she choked. She knotted it once, twice and forced her hands away, her resolve crumbling as she grew lightheaded and certainty began to ebb.
Her legs were suddenly unable to support her weight, and she slipped to the floor, gasping uselessly for air. Her hands moved of their own volition, clawing at the rope around her neck in a vain attempt to save her life.
As her vision faded into red, she was only vaguely aware of the door sliding open, of hurried footfalls against the mats on the floor.And then... everything went black.