InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Shards of Destiny ❯ Chapter One ( Chapter 2 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, etc., of Inuyasha or Yu Yu Hakusho. This story is for entertainment purposes only, and not for profit.

SHARDS OF DESTINY

Summary: Naraku has crossed over to the modern era, and our heroes must band together to try and stop him. But what troubles arise as old relationships are torn apart by new, and the dark spider sits spinning new webs of deceit?

“Careful, Fate may have a sense of humor.” Shishiwakimaru in Episode 45 of Yu Yu Hakusho,  “Hiei Battles On”

MWAHAHAHA!

Chapter One

“ Koenma, sir!”

“What is it now, ogre?” The Prince of all the Spirit Realm didn’t even look up. “Can’t you see I’m busy!”

“But, Koenma, sir---” Jorge protested.

“Beat it, ogre! We just went to Death Con Three!”

Jorge’s blue skin paled to a light azure. Papers and files went flying as he clapped both hands to his cheeks. “Oh, sir, is it really that bad?”

“Of course, ogre! Can’t you see?” Koenma testily waved at the giant flat-screen across from his desk. “Oh, damn it, they almost got me!”

“Got you, sir?” Jorge stared at the flickering screen in puzzlement, chagrinned at the underground base peopled by flying bullets, fleeing men, and various explosions.

“Sir?” Jorge said, incredulous. “Are you playing a video game?”

“Of course, you dolt!“ The toddler sprang to his desk, controller in hand as he gleefully splayed bullets from the muzzle of his semi-automatic. “Take that, you losers! And that!”

“Prince Koenma!” Jorge wailed.

“Stow it, ogre, you’re distracting me!”

“But, sir!”

“Prince Koenma, sir.”

“What is it now?” It was Koenma’s turn to wail, before spotting the beautiful maiden dressed in black standing stiffly before him, oar in hand. “Oh! Ayame!”

Blushing at being caught playing video games by his secret crush, the pro-tem Chief Administrator of Spirit World whipped the controller behind his back. He forgot to pause the game, however, and a gruesomely loud and ignoble end punctuated the guilty silence.

Ayame didn’t even bat an eyelash. “Koenma, sir, there’s been a troubling disturbance in Living World.”

“What’s that?” Koenma sheepishly climbed down from his desk, dropping the game controller into a drawer and settling back into the wide chair. “Trouble in Living World, you say?”

“Sir, if you will allow me?” Ayame picked up his remote and switched the channel. A Shinto shrine in the midst of the urban skyline appeared, its tidy white paths glittering in the sun. “This, sir, is the Higurashi family shrine in outlying Tokyo just over an hour ago.”

“Kinda nice.” Koenma felt the need for some comment, bored by the view.

Ayame didn’t react. “Watch the sky carefully, sir.”

A thick, purple miasma suddenly formed above the tiny shrine, growing larger by the second as two glowing red eyes formed inside the evil mist. Gasping, Koenma stood up in his chair so he could drop both hands flat on his desk. “What the…?”

“Told you it was important, sir,” Jorge muttered under his breath.

“Quiet, ogre.” Koenma distractedly waved as he slowly sank back into his seat. He watched the scene unfold, his mouth quirking as Yusuke showed up just in the nick of time, as usual. His Spirit Gun dissipated the seething miasma, but wasn’t strong enough to entirely destroy it.

“At least one of our operatives is already on the scene,” the prince murmured.

“Technically, sir, Yusuke Urameshi is no longer one of our operatives,” Ayame gently reminded.

“He was fired by King Yama, remember?” Jorge added. “With a price on his head for being reborn a Mazoku.”

“Water under the bridge.” Koenma waved that consideration aside. “We can let bygones be bygones.”

The ferry-girl exchanged looks with the ogre, who shrugged helplessly.

“Oh-ho, what is this?” Koenma leaned forward intently as people tumbled out of one of the small outbuildings to collapse on the grass. “Hell, ogre, didn’t we get any audio on this thing?”

“Sorry, sir,” Jorge said regretfully, “there wasn’t time.”

“Who are these people?” Koenma demanded, much like Yusuke silently on-screen. He was relieved when two of Yusuke’s former teammates, Kurama and Kuwabara, arrived as backup.

“That, sir,” Ayame interrupted, “is what we wanted to talk to you about.” She looked over at Jorge, who blushed navy.

“Oh! The files!” The ogre scrambled after the scattered paperwork as Koenma glared and Ayame thoughtfully paused the video.

“Hurry up, ogre!” Koenma impatiently ordered.

“Yes, sir, right away, sir!” Jorge plopped the disorganized pile on his desk to salute.

“What the hell is this, ogre? I can’t read this!” Koenma grabbed a fistful of wrinkled papers to shake at him.

“Please, sir, if you will allow me?” Ayame smoothly intervened. “I took the trouble of having the files scanned. We have a whole division working on converting the old files to digital media.”

“Yes, yes.” Anger spent, Koenma fell limp against his seat. “You don’t have to remind me. Carry on.”

“Very well, sir.” Unruffled by her boss’s tantrums, Ayame calmly aimed the remote. The screen flickered to a young girl in a school uniform smiling over her shoulder at them.

Koenma whistled appreciatively. “Wow! She’s a looker!”

“This, sir, is Kagome Higurashi. She is eighteen years old---”
“Know what that means, ogre?” Koenma whispered, elbowing the blue, one-horned giant at his side. “She’s legal.”

Jorge gazed heavenward.

Ignoring them, Ayame continued. “Miss Higurashi’s family owns the shrine in Tokyo. She just---barely---graduated high school, and she has extraordinary untapped spiritual potential. I would say, if properly trained, she might prove one of the most powerful miko of all time.”

“What?” Koenma bolted upright. “How could we miss that, Ayame?”

“Well, sir,” Ayame said, a light color appearing on her pale cheeks---the first reaction she had shown in years. “There’s actually a lot that Spirit World has missed…”

Prince Koenma’s eyes narrowed. “Best start explaining.”


“Let’s see,” Yusuke drawled. “One smoked monster, two half-dead humans, a pair of pint-sized demons and a half-breed mutt, one old dead guy and three grieving family members, and no one can bother explaining just what the hell is going on?”

“Yusuke,” Kurama warned as the half-demon bristled.

“Who you calling mutt---”

“Inuyasha,” the schoolgirl interrupted, wearily pushing unruly black hair out of her eyes. The hanyou’s expression immediately softened as he stared down at her. The girl looked awful, her eyes red and swollen, exhaustion and grief weighing down her thin shoulders. Dirt streaked across one cheek, and she had a flowering bruise on her temple. Her green and white uniform was stained and torn, but the young woman appeared in better shape than her silver-haired companion. He was barely able to stand, his demon energy a mere flicker around him.

“Look, I’m sorry about your dad---” Yusuke began with his usual tact.

“Granddad,” she corrected, lip quivering before she resolutely drew herself up. Her mother had already gone to call the ambulance, taking the little boy inside the house with her. He must be the girl’s brother---the family resemblance was unmistakable.

“Kagome!” The little rusty-headed kitsune sprang to her shoulder, offering what comfort he could by hugging her tight. His green eyes were bright with unshed tears. “Kagome, I’m worried about Sango. She’s really hurt. Miroku says to hurry---she needs some of your medicine. She got stung by one of those Saimyousho.”

“The Saimyousho!” the girl, Kagome, gasped.

“What’s that?” Kuwabara demanded as Kurama frowned.

“A demon world insect, poisonous to humans,” the spirit fox explained.

“You know ’em?” the hanyou growled suspiciously.

“I know of them,” Kurama answered, unperturbed. He turned to Yusuke. “I think explanations can wait for a more fortuitous time. Right now, I believe the authorities are on their way, and the less they see the better.” He nodded to the more obvious of their party, from the dog-eared half-demon to the little kitsune. “We should also take time to tend the wounded.”

Yusuke shrugged. “Have it your way.”

With a look of guilty relief, the schoolgirl turned expectantly to the dog demon.

“Feh. Whatever.”

“Right, then. Inside, everyone,” Kagome rallied, clearly pushing aside her grief to focus on what she could do to help. “Shippou, I need you to go get my backpack---wait.” She suddenly paled. “I think I left it---on the other side.”

“Well, ain’t that just great?” The hanyou glowered, leaning heavily on his tattered sword. “What good’s it gonna do you over there? The well’s destroyed, remember?”

“You don’t have to keep reminding me,” the girl snapped, rounding on him. “And how is whining about it going to help Sango? All my medicine’s in that bag, including the antidote!”

Kurama coughed politely. “If you will allow me, I may be able to help your friend.”

“Who asked you?” the dog demon challenged, gold eyes glittering.

“Hey! Kurama’s a good healer,” Kuwabara protested. “Not as good as my Yukina, of course, but he’s good enough.”

“Reassuring,” Kurama said dryly. Yusuke smirked.

“You know the antidote?” Kagome turned, hope in her brown eyes.

“I can use a plant to withdraw the poison,” Kurama qualified, starting forward with the pretty young woman by his side.

“How can you trust him?” Inuyasha demanded.

“Just as much as we can trust you,” Yusuke was quick to point out as he sauntered past.

“Haha, good one, Urameshi!” Kuwabara hurried to catch up.


“Stay with me, Sango.” Miroku gently brushed a tangle of brown hair off her cheek as the slayer’s lashes fluttered. He had maneuvered the girl’s head into his lap, hoping to keep the poison from spreading faster by elevating her. Hardly the way he’d first pictured the beautiful taijiya’s head in his lap, but Miroku was ever the opportunist.

“Tired,” she murmured, turning her cheek away from his light touch. The monk sighed, ignoring the fierce pain in his arm as he shifted his weight. The bone was broken, and the beads wrapped around his wounded Kazaana made hard knots against his clenched fist. Kirara was draped across his knees, her pitiful little body caked with dirt and blood.

Sango and Kirara had gotten the worst of it. Miroku had lost his staff early in the fight---one of Naraku‘s tentacles slithering over his extended arm to snap the bone in its tight grip as he dangled, screaming in surprised agony, some twenty feet off the ground. Sango had sent Kirara after him, the neko biting fiercely into the tentacle and getting a mouthful of pure miasma as the slayer hacked at the writhing appendage with her sword. It’d been just enough to loosen the tentacle’s grip, and  Sango had sheathed her sword to grab his shoulders, twisting him free as she urged Kirara to fly higher, up and away from the writhing mass.

Only to be knocked aside by another tentacle, the Hiraikotsu’s return the only thing to save them all from falling to their deaths far below. But weakened, they could not regain the fight which had gone sorely for them until Inuyasha interfered with an Adamant Barrage.

The rest of the battle was a blur of pain and desperation, the blood pouring into Miroku’s eyes from the gash on his forehead as he sent wave after wave of sacred sutras at the mocking Naraku and the countless hordes of his demon allies attacking them.

“Die,” the dark hanyou taunted, and Miroku felt they almost had in that wrenching travel through time as the Gate-Key warped and twisted through time and space to bring them here, to Kagome’s era.

Miroku knew he would hear that mocking taunt in nightmares for a long time to come. Leaning his head back against the well-house wall, he sighed.

“Miroku!”

Opening his eyes, the monk smiled up at the beautiful young miko who rushed to their side, appreciating the way her breasts moved beneath her shirt and the sweet curve of her ass in the swirling, torn skirt as she knelt beside him. “Kagome.”

“Are you all right?” The concern in her pretty brown eyes was endearing.

“I will be---now,” he smiled charmingly, adding before she took offense, “but I think my arm’s broken.”

“Oh.” Forgiving his flippancy, Kagome lightly touched his shoulder.

“I’ll do. It’s Sango I’m truly worried about.” Miroku looked down at the slayer.

“Kagome-chan?” Sango whispered, brown eyes dazed. Her face was white, her skin clammy with sweat.

“Wow, she looks like shit.”

Miroku raised a questioning eyebrow at their audience.

“Urameshi! That ain’t no way to speak to a lady!” The giant carrot-top scowled as the dark-haired man, completely unrepentant, shrugged.

“It’s the truth, isn’t it?”

“That doesn’t mean you gotta say it!”

“Please, let’s be civil.” The third man, a dapper redhead, smoothly intervened.

“Don’t worry, Sango.” Kagome tenderly wiped the slayer’s sweating brow as she made a dismayed sound. “They’re here to help.”

“Truly?” Miroku asked, amused.

“And it looks we’ve little time to lose.” The red-haired man gestured sharply, and the brash youth shrugged, dropping to the slayer’s side and reaching out for her.

Miroku caught his eye with a grave frown.

“Don’t worry,” the young man said, mouth quirked. “I won’t hurt her.”

Acknowledging the honesty in that warm brown gaze, Miroku surrendered the slayer without protest. The youth, despite his rough manners, was gentle as he picked the slayer up. She lolled against him as the red-haired man freed one arm to prick the inside of her wrist with some sort of seed.

“What is that?” Miroku asked sharply.

“Bleeding heart,” the tall man distractedly explained, infusing some type of energy---demon energy?---into the plant. “It will draw out the poison to feed on its jyaki.”

“Just who are you?” Miroku demanded, distrusting the man’s eerie calm and his casual use of an energy so demonic in nature.

“Like how about the guys saving your sorry asses?” the dark-haired youth offered, easily climbing to his feet despite the girl in his arms.

Conceding defeat, Miroku chuckled.

“Hey, look at that, Kurama! Not all of them suffer from a lack of humor.”

“As always, Yusuke, your timing is…precipitous.” The handsome redhead shook his head, climbing to his feet and offering Miroku a hand up as Kagome took Kirara into her arms.

Peering down at the little miko, the awkward-looking giant said excitedly, “Hey, is that a kitty-cat?”

“Here we go.” The dark-haired youth rolled his eyes.

“This should prove interesting,” Miroku opined, grimacing as a twinge in his arm sent agony stabbing through his body.

“Indeed,” the red-haired man dryly agreed.


“I don’t know who you guys are, but I’m gonna want answers soon.”

That sally greeted them as they drew up to the house, where a silver-haired mutt with ridiculous ears leaned against his ratty sword.

“Inuyasha, will you please get inside?” The schoolgirl in the delightfully short green skirt with the nice tear up to her hip scowled. Wearily shoving black hair out of her eyes, she added, “The authorities are on their way, and the last thing we need is for anyone to see you.”

“Feh.” The mutt gave in grudgingly, but only  after the young woman laid a consoling hand on his arm. She missed the reflexive flinch of pain that tightened his features, but Kurama didn’t.

“You’re hurt?” the fox asked, eying the various blood stains absorbed by his red haori.

“Inuyasha?” the girl asked.

“I’m fine.” The hanyou shrugged off their concern with the girl’s hand to hobble inside the house. The girl stared after him, hiding the hurt in her brown eyes as the little kitsune on her shoulder patted her cheek.

“Don’t worry, Kagome. He’ll be all right.”

“Thanks, Shippou.” Turning, she nodded to the rest of them. “Please follow me, I’ll show you where to go.”

Kicking off her loafers, she went up the three steps to the narrow hall beyond, her arms full of cat and kit. Kurama gestured Yusuke to proceed, and helped the odd-looking monk with the rat-tail and earrings after him. Kuwabara brought up the rear, pausing to add his shoes to the growing pile by the door.

Yusuke sidled down the hall, neatly swinging the limp girl’s legs out of the way and staring curiously around. To the right lay a sitting room with a television set in one corner, to the left a tidy kitchen. Stairs led up to the second floor, which was draped in shadows.

The girl paused indecisively on the landing, and then nodded. “Follow me,” she ordered, and Yusuke appreciated the view as he gingerly complied. The girl had some nice legs, the muscles well-developed in both calf and thigh. That short skirt was damn distracting, the narrow stairs damn awkward as he climbed sideways for the other girl held in his arms. She wasn’t bad, either, come to think of it. Not as curvy, certainly, but she didn’t weigh much.

“This is Souta’s room.” The schoolgirl gestured to the first door on the right. “My little brother. Bathroom’s on the left,” she indicated, “and my room’s across from it. You can take Sango there.”

She looked up at Yusuke, who shrugged affably and made his way down the hall as she steered the monk into the first bedroom. He nudged the door open further with his shoulder and grimaced at all the pink. Talk about a girly-girl. Hell, she even had a pink Hello Kitty backpack by the desk.

Carefully depositing his burden on the bed---which was pink, of course, with lace three inches thick around pillow and blanket---Yusuke looked up as Kurama entered.

“I have to check the bleeding heart’s progress. We have to be careful, lest the plant start draining her life energy after feeding off the poison,” the kitsune explained as Yusuke made room. “Can you loosen her collar? I don’t like her color.”

“Yeah, kinda pasty,” Yusuke remarked, slipping the odd, wooden button free of its loop. He shoved the cloth back to expose the rapid pulse at her collarbone as Kurama pushed her sleeve up her arm to examine her wrist.

“What are you doing?”

They both looked up at the sudden intrusion. The schoolgirl regarded them suspiciously, arms filled with several towels.

Yusuke stepped away from the bed, both hands raised in mock innocence as Kurama calmly continued his examination. “Do you have any hydrogen peroxide?” the fox asked. “I could also use some gauze and bandages, maybe a first aid kit and some boiling water.”

“Uh, sure. In the bathroom, in the medicine cabinet. And I can go start a kettle.” The flustered girl dropped the towels at the foot of the bed, glancing worriedly at her inert friend.

“She will be all right,” Kurama said quietly, green eyes rising to hold hers.

“Thank you.” She noticeably relaxed. Brown eyes flitting to Yusuke, she drew herself up. “I’ll…be right back.”

 She disappeared into the bathroom, returning only to drop off supplies and then head back downstairs to go answer the door. Flipping back the pink curtain at the window, Yusuke watched the paramedics arrive with a stretcher. He grimaced as the family formed a small knot to one side as the paramedics knelt beside the old man. The little boy’s shoulders shook as he buried his dark head against his sister, unable to watch as they discreetly drew a white sheet over the body.

Dropping the curtain, Yusuke’s jaw tightened. “Kurama? We gotta get that bastard.”

Kurama paused in his ministrations to meet the hard brown gaze. “Agreed.”