InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Deep and Savage Way ❯ Who Are You? ( Chapter 2 )

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

“The Deep and Savage Way”
by DQBunny

DISCLAIMER: The works used in this fiction do not belong to me, but to their respective authors – even the ones already in the public domain.

Any complaints and comments can be e-mailed to mlavey@charter.net or IMed to MegsLeigh on AOL Instant Messenger.

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Chapter 2: Who Are You?

“How can you be expected to fight for someone else when you haven’t the fairest idea who you are?”
Sebastian: “Babylon 5,” Season Two, Ep. 21, “Come the Inquisitor.”

-----

His nose twitched. His eyes blinked open. Inuyasha studied the blue, cloudless sky overhead. He sat up, slowly, waiting for the dizziness to overwhelm him.

There was none.

A cocky grin spread from ear to ear. He just needed sleep, that was all. He got to his feet and stretched, taking in the scent of the trees and flowers around him. He was slightly annoyed that he missed breakfast, but Kagome was good about saving him some from that lecherous monk and the kitsune.

Then he realized Kagome was still in her time. Well, Inuyasha thought, that was about to change. He would simply have to go get her and that was that. After all, he was a reasonable man. He would simply explain to her that they had to track down Naraku and she would willingly accompany him back. Then again, his Kagome often did not see the quite clear logic in his thinking and insist she would have to take those “testos.”

So he would simply have to carry her off through the well – fast, before she let loose an “osuwari.”
Still, he admitted, it just gave him another excuse to carry her. He’d been coming up with a lot of those lately.

With a quirky grin, Inuyasha set off toward the well. He took two steps and stopped, studied the land he’d come to know so well over the past year. This certainly wasn’t it.

He took in the trees, the different shapes, and the smells. He wasn’t near the village. He couldn’t smell any humans. He sniffed. No Miroku, Sango or Shippo either. He ignored the wind rustling the thigh-high grass surrounding him, the trees talking to each other in the distance. They’d cover a good bit of the country in their search for the Shikon no Tama, that he was sure of. But Inuyasha knew he’d never been in a place like this.

“Who are you?”

He tensed, sniffed the air again. He couldn’t smell anything – not the smell of a human or the stench of a youkai. Inuyasha turned, his claws extended, ready to attack.

His stance did not waver when he saw her. An old woman, her head tied back under a scarf. She wore a faded kimono, covered with a white apron. In some sense, she reminded him of Kanna, one of Naraku’s extensions. Something about her tugged at his mind, almost like he should remember who she is.
The woman pinned him with a stare just a shade lighter than nasty. “Who are you?”

His eyes narrowed. “Keh. Why should I tell you?”

The woman floated over the grass toward him, confirming in his mind that she was a ghost. She stopped about a foot from him, then slowly circled his body. Inuyasha kept his eyes on her, not trusting a single thing she did. She stopped when she made a complete circuit, scanned him from head to foot. For a moment, he thought he saw a wistful look in her eyes. It was quickly replaced by the stony glare she’d given him at first. “Who are you?” she repeated.

“Why should it matter if you want my name? If you’re going to attack me, attack!” He yanked Tessaiga from its sheath, the sword transforming as he pulled it out.

She closed her eyes, her laughter came out as a snort. “That doesn’t answer my question. Who are you?”

He felt dizzy and propped against Tessaiga. Maybe, he realized, he wasn’t at fit as he thought. Feeling too tired to be contrary further, he replied, “I am the hanyou, Inuyasha.” He frowned. Normally, he didn’t add in that he was a hanyou. It was obvious that he wasn’t a full youkai. He started to growl under his breath. Something about the woman unnerved him. But, ghost or not, she was human.

The woman’s stare hardened. “But what is a hanyou? Who is Inuyasha? Those are both titles, designations that others have thrust upon you. It’s such a simple question I ask, and one that is constantly answered by what other people choose to call you. How can you possibly answer the question if you haven’t the slightest idea who you really are?”

“It’s just a name,” Inuyasha protested. “It’s the name I’ve had all of my life.”

“It is a name, but you do not understand the meaning behind that name. Inuyasha. The dog demon. Son of the Lord of the Western Lands, the Inu no Taisho, and his human wife, Izayoi, born in a storm of war and fire 65 years ago.” The woman laughed. “It has been so long that you have forgotten. As to be expected, after all, you probably did your best to eradicate any memory of me. I know that I did of you. Sit down. You’re not going anywhere for awhile.”

“The hell I’m not. I’ve got friends waiting for me.” Inuyasha whirled around and stalked off.

“They’re not here. Do you not know the situation you’re in right now?” The woman spoke after him. “Three days ago, you fell ill with a fever. You, Inuyasha, are still quite ill. No matter how far you walk, no matter how hard you try, you can’t escape your own mind.”

He took two more steps, stopped, and considered her words. If she told the truth, it made sense. It was why he could see or smell his friends. If he was still sick, then there was one simple thing to do. Get better. Each day he lay ill was another day wasted in the hunt to find Naraku. But how?

“I see I got through your thick skull. You’re more like your brother than you’ll ever admit to being.”

“Keh!” Inuyasha turned back to her. “Sesshoumaru and I are nothing alike.”

“Oh yes, you are.” The woman’s eyes sparkled with mischief now. “But first, you want to know how to get better, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” He walked back over to her, gave her a hard stare. “So, tell me what medicine to take?”

“It’s not quite like that. You’re ill on several levels – physically, emotionally, spiritually. If you keep going as you are, you will never defeat Naraku.”

He scowled, slightly shaken by the last statement. “Fine. What do I need to do?”

“Who are you? Wait...don’t roll your eyes at me, young man! It is a serious question. Who are you? Beyond the name you were given. Tell me who you are.”

He closed his eyes, determined to get this over with as fast as possible. Minutes past as he formulated an answer to give her. His eyes opened and he stared at the woman, horrified. “I don’t know.”
The woman smiled. “It seems that there is hope for you yet. Come. I have much to show you.”

-----

Shippo’s ears twitched and he looked toward the path leading to the well. The figure walking toward them was dressed in jeans and a sweater, but it was unmistakenably her. “Kagome!”

Miroku’s head shot up from his garden work – something Sango had cajoled him into doing. “Kagome-sama?”

“Where?” Sango ran out of Kaede’s hut, Kirara at her heels.

“Down there!” Shippo cried and took off down the road.

He nearly bowled Kagome over, but she didn’t laugh like she usually did. Instead, she kept walking toward Miroku and Sango, her head slightly bowed. Her friends stopped a few feet away from her and exchanged worried looks.

“Kagome?” Sango asked, hesitantly.

“Where’s Inuyasha?” Shippo inquired.

“He’s still ill.” Kagome walked past them, almost not noticing them. She stopped when she reached Sango, closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath. “The doctor’s not sure what’s wrong with him. He gave us some medicine and we’ve been giving it to him, but it’s been a full day and the fever only seems to be getting worse.”

“Kagome,” Sango murmured, clasped her shoulder.

“I figured you needed to know. I need to get back.”

“Is there anything we can do, Kagome-sama?”

She glanced over at Miroku, her eyes brimming with tears. “Pray.”

-----

“I am called Sakura. I was your mother’s nurse. It is not my real name, but as a child, your mother said I reminded her of the cherry blossoms because of the pink kimono I wore. The name stuck.”

Inuyasha walked alongside the woman as they crossed the field. The name tugged at the back of his mind. “Sakura...no, Sakura-san. Mother always said to call you Sakura-san because you deserve respect.” He blinked, surprised at the sudden memory.

“Very good! You remember more about your childhood than you think you do. You want to know who you are. It is simple. You are a hanyou.”

“You said that wasn’t the right answer.”

“Oh, but it wasn’t a right answer in the way that you used it. It is in the way I did.”

He silently prayed he was killed before he grew that old and senile. “And just how is the way you used it better than the way I used it?” He crossed his arms over his chest, stared defiantly at her.

“You used ‘hanyou’ as a title, a label someone has thrust upon you. But you honestly have no idea what it encompasses, does it?”

No, he admitted. He had no idea. Inuyasha remembered when he asked his mother about it. She never answered. She started crying instead.

“Look into this.” Sakura withdrew a mirror from her kimono sleeve, handed it over. “This will give you find your answer.”

Inuyasha took it, gave the nurse an odd look. He glanced down at the surface and nearly dropped it. People milled about beyond the glass surface, much like that weird box in Kagome’s time that she called a television. He started to protest, then he noticed a familiar figure appear.

“Mother?”

-----

67 years earlier...

“And I regret that I can not meet with you at this time, for my duties keep me at the castle. I hope your family is well and I invite you to visit when you have a chance.” Izayoi turned from the window and gave a small smile to the scribe that knelt at the desk in the center of the room. “Please add my seals to the letter and have it sent at once.”

“Of course, Izayoi-sama. Anything else I can do for you?”

“Not at the moment.” Izayoi turned back to the window and stared out over the sweeping fields of rice paddies, stretching out into the horizon. She thanked the gods for a prosperous harvest. The last thing she wanted to burden her people with was a lean winter. There was already unrest from the peasants that were nervous at having a woman run the estate.

Then, there were the suitors.

“Izayoi-sama?”

She turned and smiled at the older woman, kneeling by the door. “Yes, Sakura-san?”

“There is a nakodo is here to see you. Do you have time for her?”

“Another one? This is the fifth marriage matchmaker this month.” Izayoi sighed and moved to the door. “You know, I’m sure there’s other, more eligible women of a larger estate to pursue. Why me?”

“You’re a beautiful woman, Izayoi-sama.”

“I am an average woman done up in expensive silks and makeup. Underneath all of this, I bet I look no different from one of the servants or those who live in the village. Don’t these men realize that I don’t want to get married? I’ve too much work to get married. Just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I need to be coddled or treated like glass.”

“You must act like a proper lady, Izayoi-sama. Proper ladies don’t run estates as big as this.”

“Proper ladies don’t suddenly lose their father in the middle of another needless battle.” Izayoi moved into the receiving hall. “Men get to go fight wars while women are expected to stay home and give birth.”

“Isn’t that what the role of a woman should be?”

Izayoi paused. Two men stood at the opposite end, waiting for her. They’re like mirror images, she thought, looking at them. One of the men came to the other man’s shoulder. This must be the son, she realized.

Both had long white hair and facial markings, slashes lining each cheek. Twin blue-crescent moons graced their foreheads. Their tails, long and fluffy she noted, were tossed over one shoulder. And their eyes...their eyes were the color of old gold, melted down to create jewelry or coins.

She would have to be blind not to realize they were both breathtakingly beautiful.

The son was dressed in white hakama with a white kimono with a red pattern tucked into it. The father was outfitted entirely in a royal blue, with a white and gold pattern on his kimono. Looking closer at them, she could tell more subtle differences – mainly with the nose. The father’s nose wasn’t as narrow and pointed as the son’s.

“Aaah....you are the matchmakers, I take it?” Izayoi moved to them, got to her knees and bowed. “I am Izayoi, heiress of this estate. I apologize for you and your son coming all this way, but I have no need to marry at this time.”

“I regret to inform you, Izayoi-sama, that your need to marry is in fact, of great importance. I am called Inu no Taisho, Lord of the Western Lands. This is my son, Sesshoumaru.”

Her head shot up. “Inu no...you’re the youkai lord!”

“It seems the human does have an ounce of her brains in her head,” Sesshoumaru muttered.

“Sesshoumaru,” his father warned, then turned his attention back to the woman before him. “If you would give me an hour or two, I can explain why you need to marry. Whether it be to me or to one of these bumbling idiots that stumble through the door, you must know what is going on.”

-----

“Marriages are made to bring peace and to unify large families. Your mother’s lands made up a pretty good portion of the Western Lands that your father ruled over as a youkai lord,” Sakura explained.
“There was a warlord who wanted to marry your mother and use her money, land and soldiers as a base to attack and drive away your father. So, to ensure his stronghold over the lands, he proposed an alliance with your mother.”

“Your mother did not want to go to war, especially with her father’s recent death weighing heavily on her mind. So, she agreed to the alliance. After the wedding, she fell in love with your father, and he with her. Even though your father was a youkai, those who were against the match did not vocalize it.”

“Keh.” Inuyasha folded his arms over his chest. “Such as you, baba?”

Sakura inclined her head. “Yes, such as I. A year later, your mother became pregnant. People knew this would be the child of a hanyou and it worried her.”

-----

“I worry about how this child will be treated, anata,” Izayoi patted her rounded abdomen.

“He will be my son. He won’t be treated any less than Sesshoumaru is treated,” Inu no Taisho crossed the room and placed his hands on his wife’s shoulders.

“He will be your son.” Izayoi gave him a quirky smile. “I bet the gods defy you and bless us with a daughter. I pray that she will give you endless grief.”

“You wish the death of me, woman. What would I do with two of you running around?”

“Love us both.”

“While praying for my sanity.”

Izayoi laughed, but stopped when she noticed that her husband didn’t join her. “Is something wrong?”
Inu no Taisho kneaded his forehead, hating what he had to say. “There is a threat to these lands that I must address. It’s one that I regret having to see to now, especially since I just returned from Toutousai.”

Izayoi folded her hands before her. She was used to those seeking the power that Inu no Taisho had. “Who is it this time?”

“The dragon, Ryuukossei. He’s been a pest for the last couple centuries, but he picked the perfect time to provoke a confrontation.” His hand dropped to the two newly-forged swords at his hilt. “Most of my power is embedded in these new swords. It will take awhile for them to come back.”

“Tessaiga and Tenseiga.” Izyaoi gazed at them. “You never did explain why you had Toutousai-san forge them.”

“It’s a living will, I suppose.” Inu no Taishio gave her a small smile. “Our child, male or female, will be a target because he or she will be a hanyou. Tessaiga will give enable the child to take care of himself. Tenseiga...Tenseiga is to teach Sesshoumaru a lesson. He loathes humans, and that’s putting it kindly. If I pass from these lands before I teach him about the wisdom of co-existing with the human race, perhaps I will be able to do so through these swords...”

*****

“Not long after this, you were born, Inuyasha,” Sakura explained. “A former suitor of your mother’s, grief-stricken over her choosing to mate with a hanyou, killed your mother and set the castle on fire. Your father, gravely wounded from the battle with Ryuukosei, returned just in time to revive your mother with Tenseiga and meet his death.”

“But...how could oyagi die from such a fire?” Inuyasha grabbed a handful of his fire rat’s haori. “Didn’t he have this? Mother said he gave this to her for me.”

“Your mother told me that he wrapped this cloth around her to protect you both from the fire. As a strange youkai on a cow said, as he managed to seal the dragon, he injected him with a poison that consumed him from the inside out. Look, see more.”

More fragments of their life together passed before Inuyasha rapidly – almost too fast for him to process. But he could see the type of people his parents were.

Izayoi was patient and kind. She reminded him a lot of Kagome and Kikyo. She listened to the concerns of all of her subjects, and did their best to make living in the constant warring that marked the Sengoku Jidai bearable. And his father...not only was he strong physically, but other youkai respected him as well.

He noted that his father didn’t use brute force to exert his power. Normally, it took a few key words to defuse most situations and violence was a last resort. His temper, Inuyasha thought, seemed to be like Sesshoumaru’s – slow to anger. He bit his lip. He was fully aware of his own rapid-fire temper and his tendency to beat sense into someone rather than talk things out. He didn’t have the patience his parents did to listen to someone yak on and on. He preferred to do something about it.

And that, a voice inside of him said, is where you always get into trouble.

Inuyasha hesitantly touched the eye where his father’s grave rested. The rest he sort of remembered, hazy memories from his childhood. The last was his first clear memory – of playing with the villagers and them ignoring him. Of him running to his mother and asking her what a hanyou was and of the tears that cascaded down her cheeks.

“What is a hanyou, Mama?”

He blinked, surprised to find his eyes moist. He hastily swiped at his eyes and looked up from the mirror, expecting the old woman, Sakura, to make a comment about the flashbacks.

But she was gone.

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AUTHOR'S NOTES: Welcome to the revised chapter two! The basic storyline behind the history of Inuyasha's parents comes from the third movie, "Tenka Hadou no Ken." The events leading up to it - mainly the visible flashbacks - are my guesses on what happened prior to the beginning of that movie. Revising this chapter was the main reason why I waited so long to complete this fic.

The flashback snippets were to give an idea of the type of people Inuyasha's parents were - and the dynamic between them and Sesshoumaru. Like with the reader, what Inuyasha sees happens too fast for him to fully process it, but to get an idea of his regal mother, the respect his father commanded, and the circumstances that led to him inheriting Tessaiga. More on this will be explored in chapter 4, so if it feels incomplete, it's suppose to be like that.

Nakodo are the marriage matchmakers that were used in marriage negotiations in the Sengoku Jidai. It was unusual for the groom to come petition a bride on his own behalf, like Inu no Taisho did.