InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Love of a Hanyou ❯ The Love of a hanyou- Chapter 5 ( Chapter 5 )

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

Chapter 5

***

He grunted as his bare feet touched the soft packed earth at the bottom of the well. The full moon's glare chased away the dark shadows that loomed around him. All was quiet in the surrounding forest, its stillness broken every now and then by the faint sound of rustling leaves and the snapping of twigs made by those animals that preferred to hunt at night.

He bent his knees and with a mighty push, propelled himself up and out of the well with easy grace. His eyes adjusted quickly to the moon lit expanse of the forested area. His gaze steady and all- seeing like that of a hawk, as he scanned the area for any threats that might be lurking nearby.

He did not move a muscle until he was sure that nothing had escaped his vigil. One could not be too careful in this time where Naraku's reach stretched out from far and wide in a diabolical attempt to claim unsuspecting creatures.

Naraku was capable of cruel and twisted manipulation. His diabolical use of said influence was used in the most vile and evil ways to turn friend against friend, brother against brother. The thought alone was enough to make him sick.

Satisfied that all was clear, he broke off into a quick sprint, his destination, the village where he and his pack normally resided when they were not hunting for shards of the shikon jewel. The scenery flew by him as he hurriedly made his way through the dense underbrush of leaves and brushes.

He spared nary a glance for his surroundings, the dense copse of foliage and the dimly lit pathways as familiar to him as his own body. His thoughts wandered back to the young woman that he had left five hundred years into the future.

Kagome had been noticeably upset when she had found out that he was leaving her that night and would not return for another two. The memory of the hurt that had flashed briefly in her blue grey eyes was still fresh; however it was not what had almost stayed him. It was not what had nearly made him forget his self-imposed mission. It was also not what had almost made him want to gather her up into his arms and never want to let go.

It had been the fear that she had tried valiantly to hide from him, the fear that had made her spine stiffen and her small hands clutch at the bed covers so hard that they had turned white. In all the years that they had travelled together, he knew her fear, the smell of it. He knew the acrid taste it left in the back of his throat.

But this was a different fear, a fear more poignant. One that proved to be more debilitating for him since it made clear his complete powerlessness in relieving her of it.

This had not been the fear of death but it had been the fear of life. The fear of living with pain that was so powerful, of having to learn to cope with it alone, of wanting to cope with it alone because of the intense feeling of mortification that it inspired.

He had understood himself to be weak at that point in time, for he had stood rooted to his spot at her bedside, unable to tear his eyes away from her saddened face. He had watched as she cocooned her self in that shell of false cheerfulness in order to protect herself, in order to close herself off from everything…from him.

When she had begun to tremble, he had managed to shake himself out of his stupor. He had staggered towards her, his body too riddled with regret to stay upright, and then without a sound he had crushed her fragile body to his own.

He remembered whispering words to her, making promises that he had been unsure that he would be able to keep but would fight in order that he could. Then worst of all he had begged her to trust him.

He could not believe that he had begged her, he never begged. It was almost as though she too could not believe that he had done so because it was then that her cries had overtaken her body. Her small frame had been racked with gut wrenching sobs that had seemed uncontrollable. He had known then and there that if he did not leave right at that moment then he never would. Despite knowing that, he had stayed later than he had wanted to.

He had climbed up on her bed and had held her until her crying had stopped, until she had snuggled closer and nuzzled her nose into his neck. Even then he still had not left until she had clutched at his hoari and in a shaken voice begged him to return as fast as possible. He had been too shocked to reply and instead had merely held her closer to his side.

She had taken a deep breath before she had drifted off to sleep and it was another five minutes before he had carefully moved off the bed. He had watched her and had wandered at her dark beauty that had seemed almost ethereal in the moonlight. He had made his escape quickly after that.

He snapped back to attention when he noted the light of the burning torches in the village. All the villagers had already gone to bed except for a few of those who continued to mill about preparing to bed down for the night. He could hear the quiet chatter of some of the inhabitants as he passed by under the hut windows. Those who remained outside ventured to give him a wave of welcome.

He smiled wistfully thinking back to how in only the two years since Kagome had come into his life, the villagers that had once seen him as an abhorrence to be endured, now received him into their midsts. It was ironic really how they only did so for her sake and not because he put his life on the line in an effort to protect them. No, humans would never be so generous.

Kaede's hut glowed from within and movement was easily detected from within. The old girl must not be able to sleep which always seemed to be the case nowadays. Kaede called it the pains of old age, a sure sign that her finals days were before her. His snort of disgust rang out into the night; with the way his karma flowed, the old gal would be alive for another hundred years.

He reached out and brushed the tatami mat that covered the door aside and stepped up into the warm hut. He had not realized how cold it was outside until he had and it only served to remind him that winter was fast approaching. He made a mental note to himself to hunt for meat and gather wood for the old woman later when he returned from his trip.

The light of the spitfire caused his eyes to glow an eerie amber hue as he paused to scan the interior for it occupants. The old woman was up as he had suspected, mashing and mixing herbs in a clay bowl by the fire.

Shippo, the wily little fox demon lay in the far corner snuggled up in Kagome's sleeping bag with Kilala. The cat demon in her deceptively small form watched him silently with her gleaming red eyes, her fluffy tail lazily swaying behind her. She mewed a soft greeting to him before shifting her tiny body and curling in closer around Shippo's.

He snorted to himself. He found it just a tad bit disturbing how a dangerous, bloodletting beast could be so mild and cute, as Kagome would say.

He shook his head, sending the heavy strands of his snow- white hair cascading over his shoulders. He realized that thoughts of Kagome and things Kagome would say were starting to become prevalent and occupied a large portion of his mind. He would have to watch that because although he loved her and wanted her for his mate, he could not allow himself to show how much she meant to him. He had too many enemies to allow himself that freedom.

“You're back early. Where's Kagome? Did she sit you back though the well?” He spun around when he had heard the lazy drawl behind him.

Miroku sat crossed legged in the corner closet to the door. He noted that the perverted monk's arrogant smirk and red, swollen cheek were completely at odds with each other. He glanced around and noted the marked absence of the youkai slayer but also took in the now interested gaze of the old woman who had stopped grinding her herbs to listen. Nosy old fart, he thought ungraciously. He directed a sneer at Miroku.

“What's the matter? Sango get tired of smacking your sorry ass around?” he said coolly.

“Of course not, milady is merely patrolling the outer perimeters of the village.”

“Ran away from your wandering hands is more like it.” He mumbled evenly.

Miroku actually had the nerve to construe his features into that of hurt innocence before replying, “Why Inuyasha, I am appalled to know that you think so lowly of me. I would never do anything to that would cause my dear Sango discomfort.”

If he had thought that any chastising comment from him would have made a dent in the monk's smug visage then he had thought wrong. The little fool continued to grin up at him idiotically, apparently deciding to completely ignore that he had made an impolite response.

“Weeeelllll…?” Inuyasha gritted his teeth. The little pissant had drug out the word, knowing that the annoying sound grated on his nerves. He struggled to suppress the urge to strangle the life out of the monk and reminded himself of the reason why he had stopped here in the first place.

Completely ignoring the stupid monk and the evil grin that had grown impossibly wider, he strode over and sat down in front of the old woman. She hardly spared him a word of greeting but merely continued to quietly observe him, a habit of hers that always put on him edge. It annoyed him because he always felt that she was able to see right through him, into his mind.

It was scary to realize how wise she had become over the years especially when he was the elder of the two. Trying to prevaricate anything to the woman would be completely pointless. He took a deep breath and decided that the best way was to put everything out into the open.

The sooner the better he always thought. There was absolutely no reason to draw out a situation and avoid saying what needed to be said.

“Kagome was attacked in her time. She's fine now…physically but she won't be able to move for awhile.”

His revelation was met with shock. He could see that clearly etched on the faces of both humans. The monk's face had been drained of all expression however he was also the first one to speak up after a slight pause. He was only mildly surprised at the anger that radiated in his voice.

“How was she attacked, Inuyasha? Who did it, did you mange to catch them?” The monk had risen to his feet with each passing word, his fists clenching spasmodically at his sides. Kagome was like a little sister to him and the thought of her being hurt in anyway was beyond bearing. Any monster that could so willingly hurt a girl as innocent as her deserved nothing better but to be punished in the most excruciating manner there was.

Inuyasha shared his sentiments exactly and was only mildly upset at not being able to answer him the way that he wished he could.

“She was raped and no …not yet. I haven't been able to find them but I will. ”

“What do you mean? How could you have let this happen? I would've thought that that would've been your first priority?” Inuyasha jumped up at the implied insinuation, that he was incompetent in protecting Kagome. He didn't know how but somehow he and Miroku wound up standing face to face to each other, both wracked with deep shudders of barely suppressed violence.

“I would've done so but at the time Kagome was lying naked on the cold ground bleeding to death! Tell me Miroku, what would you have done in my place huh? Tell me! I would like to know!” they stood glaring heatedly at each other, both ready to take the other down.

He trembled with his anger and with the hurt of not being supported by one that he thought of as his friend. The former emotion he acknowledged wholeheartedly but the latter he squashed roughly to the side. Those kinds of thoughts were what got one killed easily, what made one seem less of a leader. Those deceptive thoughts of weakness.

His growl of annoyance was abruptly cut off by the shrill voice of the harpy on the other side of the hut.

“Both of ye please! Ye are both yelling unnecessarily! Look now, ye've frightened the poor child,” listening to Kaede, they both looked over to see that indeed the small fox sat up huddled under the blanket, crying softly.

They glanced at each other, shame facedly. They were both breathing heavily and the previous tension in the hut was quickly defused. Miroku searched Inuyasha's face and mumbled something apologetically before moving over towards the trembling blanket.

Inuyasha watched as the monk pulled the blanket aside to reveal the tear stained cheeks and red puffy eyes. He was quick to assure the little demon that all was well and that there was nothing to be afraid of.

“I'm heading out to the Western lands to see Sesshomaru then back to Kagome's time.” He let that hang in the air briefly before moving outside of the hut.

As he moved towards the edge of the village, he stopped to stare up at the star speckled sky, his body still taut with tension at being confronted by his pack member. It was very seldom that he ever allowed himself to feel inadequate or helpless, not since he was a child. He had promised that he would never let anyone look down at him and if they did, to at least never allow it to bother him. However, now he felt it. It hurt that one of his pack members did not think him capable of protecting his intended mate or even to avenge her.

The crunching of gravel and jangling of gold rings had him spinning around to glare at the intruder behind him. Miroku stood behind him, staring back solemnly. He stood relaxed and steady, his gloved right hand gripping the shaft of his golden shakujou. The awkward silence between them went on for a few minutes before the monk shuffled his weight nervously and spoke up.

“Look Inuyasha… back there… I don't know what came over me. It was just so shocking to have to hear that she was attacked in a place that she is supposed to be safe. I just took it out on you. I know what Kagome means to you, what you would do if you ever thought her in danger. It was wrong of me to have implied otherwise. I humbly beg your forgiveness for this most unworthy monk.”

As he had spoken, Miroku had slowly sunk to the ground in a low bow that a lowly servant would have bestowed upon his lord. For a long moment, Inuyasha stood debating what to do, unsure of what to make of the situation.

He sighed heavily before he too begun to go down onto his knees before stopping midway abruptly. His youkai snarled from within at this show of submission to a lesser pack member but his human side struggled violently as well with its own need to preserve its friendship with Miroku. He felt pulled into two different directions and so decided on a middle ground and bowed from the waist before the monk.

“I too am ss.ss.sorry,” he would leave it at that. It was as far as his pride would allow him to go. He had never realized how hard it would be to apologize and silently prayed to the gods that he would not have to do so again. When he arose again to look up at the other man, he noticed the flash of astonishment on his face before he quickly masked it.

The monk shuffled uncertainly, kicking dirt absentmindedly before taking a deep breath and asking the question that he was itching to ask. “So what are you going to do now? You mentioned going to see Lord Sesshomaru. I fail to understand how seeking an audience with him would prove relevant to Lady Kagome's affliction.”

“It has nothing to do with that, but more to do with her future,” was the cryptic response.

“I don't follow Inuyasha.” Miroku replied, head cocked to the side in puzzlement.

Inuyasha sighed heavily to himself. When he had thought over bridging the broken relationship with his brother, he had never visualized himself having to explain his reasoning behind it to anyone.

“It's complicated I can't discuss it with you now, not yet.” A long period of silence followed after his statement.

He could feel the monk's eyes on his face studying him, trying to determine what it was that he was thinking. Inuyasha felt heat envelop his face as he turned his head just a little in his direction. He glanced at him from the corner of his eye and felt himself turning beet red at the look of understanding dawning over the monk's features. He didn't say anything. He didn't need to really because that damned smirk was back.

“Well in any event, a word of advice my friend. Be careful how you tread in territory foreign from your own. I expect that you wish to do this alone?”, Miroku paused long enough to watch the hanyou give him a curt nod. “Very well, you understand then that diplomacy will be your best asset in gaining any ground with your lord brother.”

Miroku didn't bother to say anything else after that. He felt that the hanyou got the message that he had been trying to convey. He turned his attention to the view of the grasslands before him.

His violet gaze roved over the planting pads that spread over acres of land, providing sustenance for the villagers. These beautiful lands that would, hopefully in the near future, provide for all the needs of his large family, when he and Sango married. Yes, the extremely large family, he thought lasciviously.

He listened as his companion shifted restlessly beside him before heaving a regretful sigh and shifted his attention back to him.

“I suppose that you plan to leave as soon as possible. I wish you god's speed.” Inuyasha stood silently as he listened to the receding footsteps and then the soft clatter of wood as the mat was pushed to the side and then swung back into place.

Even then he continued to stand quietly, listening to the night sounds drift around him. A moment more passed before he started out on his journey.

***

She woke to pain exploding from the back of her head and nausea clawing its way up her throat. Something hard and pointed pressed relentlessly into her stomach, her upper body swaying wildly upside down.

The air was still and silent except for the heavy rasping of her breath, the heavy thumping of footfalls and the rustling of cloth.

Fear slowly crept its way up to hold her in it's vice grip. Fear of not knowing where she was swirled dizzily through her head and she wondered frantically how she could get away. She opened her eyes but saw nothing, the heavy veil of unconsciousness struggling to reclaim her.

She fought against the hazy fog that tried to push her back under into darkness, her thoughts flying haphazardly aroundinher head in an attempt to assemble together in some type of order. Darkness clung tightly to her, around her, cloaking her in a world where doom lurked with its ravenous malevolence.

The deafening ring of silence that accompanied it vibrated in her ears, intensifying the feeling of isolation. Why can't I see anything? Am I blind? , she thought.

She felt completely off balance, unable to think. She tried to voice out loud her distress but nothing came out. Her throat felt parched and raw, her lips swollen and unable to move.

The last thing she remembered was standing on the train platform, the feeling of anxiousness crawling up from the pit of her stomach and then nothing else.

“Where do you think the others are”, her fragmented thoughts were disrupted by the deep voice that originated from somewhere above her.

“Who cares? We can have fun without them”, another voice responded.

The sentence was abruptly followed by a long slow caress up her thigh that left her shuddering in disgust. The hand stilled at her movement and then continued its upward trek before curling long, bony fingers into her buttocks.

“I think our new friend is awake”, the voice chuckled darkly.

“Really? Let's introduce ourselves then”, the other man suggested, his voice jubilant. She could feel the quick nod that the one holding her gave his companion before shuffling his weight so that he could throw her to the ground in front of him.

She landed hard enough to leave a rather large and unattractive bruise on her butt however that didn't stop her from scuttling backwards until she came against a wall. Even then she continued to push against it wishing that it would absorb her and take her away from her captors.

Said captors seemed to find the attempt funny and they laughed uproariously. She couldn't see their faces properly, not in the dim light. She looked around her, searching for a way to escape but luck was not on her side.

The villains had dragged her to a secluded alcove, surrounded on all three sides. The only clear way out was through the entrance that they stood boldly in. She was trapped, she realized in dawning horror.

“Where do you think you're going girly...?” The larger of the two growled as he moved closer. Something shiny glinted out from his hand and as he moved ever closer, she managed to make out that it was a knife with a long, wicked blade.

Her eyes widened in dread and she could not move her stare away from it, even when the second fiend began to speak, mocking her with lewd suggestions of what he would like to do to her.

She fought, there was nothing left to do and so she fought them. It didn't do much for there were two of them and they were both larger than her. She felt bony fists with sharp angles fall upon her face, her chest. Heavy kicks coming down forcefully on her stomach but she did her best to stave off her attackers, flailing her arms wildly, all the while desperately praying that someone would come for her.

Before long it all became too much for her and her mind began to fog out. She didn't know what happened next but the next thing all she knew was the intensive pain that tore through her side and then merciful darkness.

She jerked upright in the bed, her chest heaving with an exaggerated effort to drag air into her lungs. Her hands trembled as she brought them up to rub at her face. Her fingers coming away wet from the treks of tears that coursed down her cheeks. The shock of having remembered her attack left her stunned and she tried to find a grasp on reality.

She tossed aside the sheets and stumbled her way out of her room and down the stairs. When she reached the kitchen, she didn't bother to turn on the lights but instead grabbed one of the glasses stacked on the counter. She turned on the faucet with fingers that were barely steady and filled the glass with water that she in turn gulped down desperately.

The clatter of the glass falling into the sink was only slightly muted by the agonized moan that tore from her throat. She slammed her fist down against the countertop before leaning against it and sliding down to the ground. She laid her head against her thighs and tried in vain to suppress the shiver from the cold of the floor touching her bare flesh. Her wounds ached terribly and she gave out short pants in an effort to try to relieve the pain.

Remnants of her nightmare flashed through her mind as she clenched her fist into the folds of her shirt. The pain of her injuries throbbed throughout her body and she prayed that it would stop. She remembered feeling suffocated during her attack and that same bleakness threatened to consume her. Five minutes of agony ensued before the pain ebbed a bit and she was finally able to breathe without any difficulty.

She wished that Inuyasha were there beside her. She imagined that he would gather her up into his strong arms and hold her tightly, as if unwilling to release her. That was exactly what he had done when she had been released from the hospital earlier.

The feel of his arms around her were a comfort all its own but at the same time left her feeling just a bit guilty. What had happened to her was her fault, she knew. Had she not known better than to leave the club and walk to the station alone? Had she not known that had she not left the safety of Inuyasha himself that the attack would not have happened?

She did not know what thoughts had been running through his mind through out the ride home, but the frown that had been marred on his handsome face had said all that could have been said. He had been frustrated that she had let herself be caught unawares. He had been angry that she had allowed herself to be so defenseless. He had been disgusted that she had allowed herself to be violated the way that she had been.

The remembered look of revulsion on his face made her cringe to herself and she squeezed her eyes closed tightly to try and stifle another bout of tears. She did not blame him. How could he have not been when she herself was horrified? He had been anxious to get away and she did not blame him for that either. It explained why he had moved away from her after she had kissed him at the hospital. Why he had had that blank expression on his face afterwards.

Even as they had climbed the stairs of the shrine, she had felt his anxiety to be away from her. He had kept glancing down at her and then at the well, his eyes always straying just a bit longer on the well. She understood what that meant. He had wanted to be away from her as soon as possible.

However instead of dashing off as soon as she had been settled he had lingered. She smiled to herself as she remembered that he had hovered over her rather. His actions had confused her because she had not expected him to stay with her, to hold her or even to comfort her long after the sun had set on the horizon.

Her thoughts were interrupted suddenly when the kitchen was illuminated by the overhead light.

“Sis? What are you doing up?” her little brother asked as he sleepily rubbed at the corner of his eye before letting out a big yawn. His pajama shirt was rucked up just a little on his small narrow chest from where he had buttoned it up wrong and he had only one foot of his slippers on.

She smiled tremulously up at him; he was just too cute sometimes even though he was a bit of a brat. Slowly pushing up from her spot on the floor, she made as to move past him. She ruffled his sable hair that always seemed to have a mind of its own even when he spent twenty minutes brushing it down. Yeah her kid brother was adorable sometimes and she loved him no matter how annoying he could be sometimes.

“Don't worry about it squirt, just go on back to bed.” She watched as he eyed her somewhat skeptically before shrugging his thin shoulders and rudely brushing her hand away.

“Whatever you say.”

She watched as he moved towards the fridge, grabbed up a bottle of water and headed towards the stairs. He paused with one foot on the first step, his hand on the banister and a look of indecision on his boyish face. He then rested his chin on his chest so that his long bangs hung over his eyes, hiding them before speaking so softly that she had to strain to hear him.

“Sis… I'm glad you're alright,” he did not turn to look back at her but instead dashed up the stairs without waiting for her reply.

A long moment passed in complete silence before she whispered hoarsely into the darkness.

“I'm not sure if I am squirt.”