InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Silence the Fairytale ❯ An Awakening ( Chapter 2 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

“…fucking hells!” a young man groaned loudly, feeling as if he had been gored and trampled by ten oxen. Inuyasha lifted his throbbing head and shook it, trying to steady his blurred vision. To say he wasn't feeling very well was the understatement of the century, and after a moment of the world spinning out of control Inuyasha emptied his stomach on to the forest floor.

Falling on to his side, and rolling on to his back away from his vomit, Inuyasha closed his eyes and tried to recall what had happened to him… everything was a blob of a broken memory… something about idiotic villagers, and an ugly old hag… and a tree, and then a young girl…

...pain, blood, pain, rage, confusion, pain...

Burning... like fire...

There was no sense of time, and everything was a red haze… and then there was this hunger for blood…

Shuddering, Inuyasha was sure he must have transformed, as he pulled the blanket on him tighter around his frame to block out the thought. Frowning a bit in confusion, Inuyasha peeked one eye open to be met face to face with a cloak. Scowling more, he lifted the cloak to find he was completely naked.

“…great… just absolutely fucking wonderful…” he grumbled, throwing an arm up over his eyes and howled out loud in frustration. A few wolves in the night answered his call, but he just shrugged it off.

He then made a mental list of things he had to do.

One, find his sword. Two, find his clothes. Three, kick whoever's ass that did this to him and serve them a sweet and healthy dose of vengance.

“Speaking of which…” Inuyasha lifted up his wrists when the smell of pugnent flesh reached his nose and held them in front of his face. Infection had settled in, turning the outsides of the wounds green and ooze filled. He scrunched up his nose in sheer disgust at the smell of pus. He sat up and ran his fingers through his matted, greasy hair and sighed.

“This is going to be one hell of a fucking bitch…” he spoke irritably to himself, having no one else to complain to, and he began to slice at the infected skin and threw the bloody bits he cut away to the ground.

Hissing in infuriated pain, he repeated the process with the other wrist, and then with his ankles, attempting to finish as hastily as possible. When all was said and done, he licked at his wounds until they stopped bleeding. Sighing, he backed up and stretched, throwing himself on the ground in resignation as he stared up at the night sky in anger.

He didn't fucking deserve this. He hadn't fucking done anything but walk within the general vicinity of the village before he was attacked. He hadn't even meant to, he was just having a bad fucking day and didn't realize how near he had strayed. He slammed a fist down on the ground next to him to relieve his tension, feeling the brush of cloth against the edges of his fingers.

Opening them gently, he grasped at the coarse material and that is when he took notice of the mysterious cloak again. He lifted it up, examining it in the pale light of the moon, a testament that obviously for once someone had given a damn.

Or, someone just didn't feel like seeing a naked hanyou lying all bloody and half dead on the forest floor.

Giving it a disconcerting gaze, he lifted it up and took a tentative sniff.

All of a sudden, a rush of emotions overwhelmed his consciousness. Uncertainty, warmth, confusion…

...Acceptance.

He yelped in shock, throwing the thing away from him in response to the strength of which the myraid of emotions reached him.

“What the fuck?!”

He shivered, unsure of why such feelings were overcoming him concerning that piece of fabric, a scrap of nothing that shouldn't have answered him so much through smell alone.

Then he recalled…

...the young girl…

She wore the cloak, she must have given it to him…

Furrowing a brow, he realized that only meant one thing… she must have been the one to free him, as well. Which was only completely weird, considering he might have nearly killed her.

Seeing as there was no body, that was a positive sign.

Right?

Lifting it up the cloak again, he hesitantly put it on around his shoulders. He then looked at his claws dully, not thoroughly convinced of their innocence. No point to dwell though, he figured, as his hands fell numbly to his sides and he turned to track down his clothing and weapon.

The cloak itself fortunately stopped just below his knees, but effectively hid his nudity from anyone who just happened to be passing by.

Cursing his luck, Inuyasha began incessantly mumbling to himself, as he tended to do, and began to walk away from the clearing.



Inuyasha stared blankly at the heap of human flesh lying on the ground away from him. He didn't have to see it to know what it was, or more precisely who it was. He could smell her from where he stood.

He had only just finished gathering the rest of his belongings, placing them in all their proper positions when the wind had shifted and brought the scent of something unpleasant and strikingly familiar. He wasn't suprised, to say the least, but the unjustice was still cruel no matter how expected it was.

“You've got to be fucking kidding me…”

He growled lowly in annoyance, walking up to the young girl and knelt next to her. Apparently the villagers decided to dispose of the girl in an ugly manner.

The girl who helped me...

Regret tugged at his heart, and he walked up to her body and examined her. He could see no visible breathing, but a faint heartbeat reached his searching ears that were trained on her. A scowl set deep in his face, as he pushed the girl gently on to her back. Her skin was pale, sickly white and lips tinged blue, all color drained from her being.

She was hanging on, but only by a thread.

He jerked a reluctant hand through his hair again, staring at her wound in her chest. Glaring at her, he began slicing down the center of her blood-soaked haori, he pushed aside the material to reveal her chest.

Growling, he dipped his head low and began to lap at the wound, dipping his tongue inside to clean it deeply and prevent infection, speeding up the healing process.

Ah, the advantages to being an inu youkai...

Standing, he tilted his head to the side slightly to get a better look at her. She appeared to be between the ages of twelve and fourteen summers, and she had unruly ebony hair that fell down to her shoulder in soft waves. She was quite obviously a ningen, but a tug at his senses indicated she had some sort of spiritual power.

“It'd only be my luck if she turns out to be a miko…” he ground out to himself quietly, as he turned and left the clearing. His reasoning yelled at him for taking the girl, but it was the least he could do… help her get on her feet before leaving her again.

He doubted she could do that well being nearly dead and all.

Yes, he was certain he'd only help this girl recover her strength. Stealing another glance, he shuddered at the familiarity she had to another he knew... long ago.

Yes… he set out with determination that this girl would only be in his presence for no more than a week.