InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Youkai and the Exterminator ❯ Chapter FortyEight ( Chapter 48 )

Chapter FortyEight

 

 

“I wish I could tell you more, but that's all I know.”

 

Sesshomaru said nothing, only turned his gaze to the north. The sky was darkening towards night, the shadows of the forest growing longer as he stood here listening to the old man. North. A direction, it was all he had to go by, to rescue the woman he loved from a creature that could hide her scent even from him.

 

It was enough. It had to be.

 

“You're sure that Kagome and Kohaku were alive?” Inuyasha burst out, grabbing the elderly smith by his shoulder. “How long ago? Were they injured? Are you sure that Naraku's demons were following them?”

 

Toutousai sighed and patted the boy on the arm. “I'm sure it was your grandsire, Inuyasha. He was carrying your friends, including the demon slayer, when he left this place. He went west, but as I tracked him at a distance, he then turned north without Kagome and the boy. He must have left them somewhere deep in the forest because he was only carrying the woman when I lost him.”

 

“West, huh?” Inuyasha turned to glare at Naota. “If he left them alone, they couldn't have gotten very far.”

 

“If this old fool saw them at all,” Naota muttered. “I still don't believe a word of it, Inutaisho would never…”

 

“Fuck him,” Inuyasha growled. He grabbed Naota hard, digging his claws into his cousin's shirt. “I don't give a damn what he did, all I care about is finding Kagome.”

 

“You don't know what it means if your father is alive,” Naota snarled, sounding more like a demon than ever. He turned back towards the elder brother, a desperate note in his voice now. “Sessh, you can't tell me that…”

 

He was speaking to thin air and looking up, he saw a bright streak of energy heading due north. “Damn it!”

 

“Impulsive lads,” Toutousai chuckled as Inuyasha spun around and sprinted west. “You can sure tell they're brothers. Just like the old dog himself.”

 

He slapped Naota on the shoulder, shaking his head as he ambled towards his ox. Then he stopped and gave Inutaisho's nephew a faint and sad smile. “You know he didn't do it to hurt you, Naota. If he'd been able to tell you why, he wouldn't have had to disappear like that.”

 

Naota looked away, his shoulders slumped. “He didn't trust anyone,” he muttered, almost to himself. “Is that what you're telling me, Toutousai? You were one of his oldest friends. Surely if he could confide in anyone, he would have told you his reasons?”

 

The elderly smith sighed, scratching absently. “Can't say that he would have trusted me with his reasons, since he didn't. I thought he was dead myself, and carried out his will with a heavy heart. But,” he paused, giving Naota a piercing look, “I know that right now, he'd want you to help his sons.”

 

“Is that so?” Naota murmured as the old man left him standing alone in the forest. He stared up at the sky for a long moment, his jaw tightening. Inuyasha had only been a baby; he'd never known his father. And Sesshomaru had been consumed with anger, unwilling even to grieve at the time. So Naota had mourned alone, abandoned even in his sadness, and found it bitter still.

 

“So, uncle,” he murmured, “you'd want me to help them because you're not here to do it yourself. That much I can do.”

 

oOo

 

It looked like it was going to be a beautiful morning.

 

Kagome sighed to herself, carrying a small wooden bucket to the stream. She wondered again when Inuyasha would find her and Kohaku. She was trying very hard not to worry about Sango as well. It wasn't easy, but she had to keep up a brave face for Kohaku. As sick as he'd been, he didn't need to make himself weaker with worry.

 

Kagome was worried and not just for Sango's sake. At first, she'd thought maybe they'd finally had a bit of luck in gaining Shi's protection. The youkai herself didn't seem powerful. In fact she was even more vulnerable because of her advanced pregnancy, but Kuchinashi's presence was more than intimidating and at night, they didn't even hear the crickets chirp.

 

However, demonic stallions and enigmatic pregnant youkai couldn't help Kohaku.

 

She'd known something was the matter the day before when Kohaku had needed to rest often. Shi had graciously offered to let the boy ride with her on the charger's broad back, but he'd refused. By nightfall, Kohaku was feverish and all Kagome could do was mop his forehead with a cool rag and worry.

 

“Your young friend is quite ill,” Shi said softly, watching as Kagome wrung out another rag with cool water.

 

“I need to get him home,” Kagome said. It wasn't that she didn't trust this strange woman, but she was hesitant to tell her the whole story. Instead she shook her head, putting on a false smile of confidence. “He'll be better once we get there.”

 

“And where is home?” The youkai woman didn't seem overly concerned, simply watching the ill boy with a disinterested expression. “You said you were traveling west, is his home far from here?”

 

Kagome honestly had no idea. She couldn't tell how many miles away the fortress might be, getting there might take weeks for all she knew. They had to have a direction to go and west was all she could come up with. She couldn't very well tell Shi she was only waiting until Inuyasha found them. And once the offer was made, she couldn't politely tell her to go on without them.

 

Kneeling beside the stream, Kagome dropped the bucket in the water and closed her eyes. “Inuyasha,” she whispered, hoping he'd hear her somehow. “I need you to find me. Kohaku is getting worse, if we don't get him back to the fortress…he might not make it. Please find us quickly.”

 

The bushes behind her rustled as if in response to her words. For a long moment, Kagome refused to turn around. It was too much to hope for, that just as she'd been speaking his name, help would come for them at last.

 

A cold nose nuzzled the back of her leg and Kagome jumped, startled. She sighed as the furry nose inserted itself under her arm. “Oh, it's just you,” she said, smiling a little bit at her morbid worries. “Did you follow me again?”

 

The big gray dog yawned and Kagome reached out to scratch his ears. Another of Shi's traveling companions, although not as unearthly as the war stallion. Kagome wondered if the youkai woman just traveled around collecting different creatures. A demon horse, an old dog, now a pair of humans. Shi was certainly an eccentric sort of person.

 

Sitting here and feeling sorry for herself wasn't going to do Kohaku any good, Kagome decided firmly. Inuyasha would find them, or Sesshomaru. It was possible that they were searching together, the brothers who were intent on finding their lost human…mates? Lovers? Wives?

 

She blushed, remembering the things that she and Inuyasha had said to each other, how everything finally seemed to fall into place for them. Then this happened and now everything was in doubt.

 

“I don't know what to do,” she said softly, still stroking the dog's grizzled ears. He was a strange creature himself, with long legs and too much hair to be reasonable. He reminded her of a kind of dog she'd seen in an old storybook, years ago. She didn't even know his name…or if he had one. Shi hadn't offered one either.

 

The dog didn't seem to mind being nameless, he simply yawned again and put his head in her lap. Don't worry, he seemed to be telling her, these things have a way of working out.

 

Sighing, Kagome gently pushed the dog away. If nothing else, she could try to make some broth for Kohaku and see if the boy would eat. At least while they traveled together, she and Kohaku weren't in danger. And her furry companion had brought her a fresh rabbit for supper the night before. While it had turned her stomach a bit to skin and clean the small carcass, she'd been grateful for the contribution.

 

“Let's get back,” she informed the dog. He wagged his tail solemnly, but she thought she saw a hint of humor in his dark eyes before he bounded off into the brush. She pulled the bucket from the stream, poured out a little so it didn't slop all over her as she walked. If only she had some way of telling Inuyasha where to find her, then she could…

 

“Kagome!” a joyful voice shouted. “I finally found you!”

 

She was nearly knocked off her feet, her bucket falling to the ground and splashed its contents over her feet. Her socks and shoes were soaked right through with the icy water, but she barely noticed as she was swept up in an enthusiastic hug.

 

“Kouga,” she gasped. “I can't breathe!”

 

He set her down immediately, his hands taking her arms to hold her steady. “Are you okay?” the wolf asked, his eyes dark with concern. “I know that bastard Naraku took you away, he didn't hurt you?”

 

She was so relieved to see him she wanted to break down in sobs, but she knew better. “I'm fine,” she assured him. “Have you seen…”

 

He threw his arms around her again and she found her nose buried against his chest. “Kagome, you're safe with me,” Kouga murmured. “I'd never let you get hurt, that stupid dog should have taken better care of you.”

 

“That's not what…”

 

“Hush.” Kouga stroked her hair soothingly, but Kagome's nose was still mashed against his chest and it was none too comfortable. “I'm gonna protect you now, Kagome. You don't have to worry about a thing.”

 

Great, she thought, wiggling as she tried to disengage from his embrace. “Uh, you can let go of me now.”

 

Grimly, she pushed him back. “Listen to me, Kouga,” she said, as gently as she could. “I appreciate you coming to find me, I really do.” There just wasn't any easy way to say it. “I'm happy to see you, but I love Inuyasha.”

 

“That mutt?” Kouga snorted in annoyance. “He can't protect you, he let you get kidnapped by Naraku.”

 

“That wasn't his fault,” she began, but he didn't seem to hear her.

 

“If you were mine, I'd never let you out of my sight!”

 

“She ain't yours, asshole!”

 

Kouga spun around and Kagome staggered for a moment, caught off balance by his sudden release. Inuyasha was standing a few feet away, obviously having heard everything Kouga said. And he was seething.

 

Glad as she was to see him, Kagome couldn't help but cover her face with her hands and groan.

 

“Here we go again.”

 

oOo

 

The woman was asleep; no doubt tired by the pace he'd set for their travels. Her dark hair spread over her face in loose waves, her soft lips trembling slightly. Exhaustion had driven her to rest, but it was not an easy rest. Nor could it be with his presence lying over her like a shroud.

 

He wanted her, holding back from enjoying her body had proved to be more difficult that he'd believed when he'd made his promise. And a youkai who was no longer just a youkai sat back to consider his options while the female he desired slept under his touch.

 

The brat inside her wasn't his; there was no reason for him to protect it. But the youki of the child's aura was strong and it compelled him. He had no reason to preserve another man's offspring. And if she weren't pregnant, she'd have no reason to reject him.

 

It would be simple, he thought, to cause a miscarriage.

 

Then she might belong only to him, not to her unborn babe, not to the demon who had sired it. Almost, he reached out, pressed his palm against her belly as she slept. So simple, the mere touch of his power and the fetus would abort, probably causing considerable pain and damage to its mother, but he might risk that.

 

If he could be sure she'd belong to him afterwards.

 

“No…” she murmured, twisting in her sleep and putting one of her slender hands over her belly. He smiled to himself; even unconscious she was aware of his thoughts. As each day went by, she was becoming more accustomed to him. This Sango no longer flinched when she looked into his face, even if she did shudder at the most casual touch of his hand.

 

But he wasn't ready yet, he hadn't decided how long he could wait, or if the baby would be worth the trouble. No, he couldn't sire his own children on her, but still…

 

Perhaps there would be a way, some dark, forbidden art. Find a way to place the corrupted image of himself within her womb, make her mother to his heirs. Scowling, he stood and looked out over the dark forest. Dark youki flowed from him, its power wrapping around his body, worming inside his mind like hot needles and pain.

 

There was so much he didn't remember, like his name and who he'd been. He didn't care either, not really. It didn't matter to him, his nameless past. This land would fall to him, like all had fallen to him. If only he could make her understand what he was offering her.

 

It was not a small thing to be made consort to a dark god.

 

Restless in her dreams, she murmured something he couldn't hear…a name perhaps? It made him angry, that his woman would be whispering another's name in her dreams. She should think only of him, dream only of him!

 

“So be it,” he muttered, letting his hand fall on her. He caressed the smooth curve of her hip, letting his fingers wander up to her soft breast. Delicious, he wanted to devour her, possess her soul, destroy her past and make her only his.

 

His cold fingers caressed her cheek, gently turning her face towards his. A touch of his mind ensured that she continued to sleep and he leaned close until his lips brushed hers.

 

“Sleep, dear love,” he whispered. “Dream of me.”

 

oOo

 

The sky and earth stretched out before her, endless and wide. Sango caught her breath at the sight. Never in all her travels, crossing the lands in pursuit of Naraku and the jewel, had she ever seen any place like this. Vast and open wilderness, untouched by any sign of agriculture, it was overwhelming. She turned around slowly, her mind dark and fuzzy. She couldn't remember how she'd come to such a place and her heart gave a sick thump at the thought.

 

Where were her friends, her little brother? Had she left them behind? And more than that…there was someone else missing. How could he find her if she'd been taken this far from the land of her birth? Silent tears streaked her cheek and Sango closed her eyes against the wild, open landscape.

 

Where was Sesshomaru, her heart begged to know. Had he given up on her, was he dead? Had that dark monster taken her so far that even her husband's power could never reach?

 

She smelled smoke, thick and rancid, too obviously filled with the stench of burning flesh. It streaked the imperious blue sky, the fetid wind making the long grass shiver and twitch. Her instincts awoke, recognizing the smell of battle.

 

Sango turned, drawn somehow to face what had to be a slaughter. Not far from her was the source of the rank smoke. A village was burning. She could see horsemen as they razed the village, setting it ablaze as they attacked the inhabitants. Her heart twisted inside her, thinking of innocent women and children falling under the sword, their plaintive cries as they were cut down.

 

She wasn't a woman who'd ever been able to abandon people in need.

 

Running now, she charged down the hill, her hands already grasping uselessly for a sword she wasn't carrying, her Hirakotsu somehow absent. She grit her teeth in frustration, how could she fight for them if she was unarmed?

 

Just as she reached the edge of the village, she heard a piercing scream and her eyes were drawn to a woman who was running for her life. One of the fierce horsemen, this one wielding a massive blade, cut off her escape as his horse reared and screamed a battle cry. The woman fell to the ground, dragging a little child with her as she tried to shield him.

 

“Stop it,” Sango shouted, furious. “Leave them alone!”

 

The man on horseback ignored her, looking down at his helpless prey. The woman continued to scream and beg and for the first time Sango realized that she couldn't understand a word she said. She didn't know this language, like she didn't recognize this land, the style of the houses, or the armor that the men wore. Even the woman and child were dressed strangely, their clothing made of skins and bright, roughly woven material.

 

The man raised his sword and without thinking, Sango ran forward. It was a helpless impulse; some part deep inside her just could not stand by while a woman and child were murdered. She was trained to fight, fight even for these strange people. She couldn't tell even now if they were human or youkai, they seemed so foreign.

 

Sango gasped as the man brought down his sword in a killing stroke and braced herself for the blow. The crudely forged blade passed right through her body, as if she were made from smoke instead of flesh and bone. Shocked, she turned around, expecting to face the corpses of the very people she'd wanted to defend.

 

A noble gesture, my love, but futile.

 

The little boy stared up at her, his eyes wide and black as jet. His long hair fell around his shoulders in wild tangles, something about his furious expression pulled at her soul.

 

“You,” she whispered, not believing what she was seeing.

 

The child ran forward, having somehow deflected the killing stroke with a discarded spear. She realized the spear was reinforced with iron bars and for a long moment, all she could think was how the boy, barely more than a toddler, had managed to lift it. He'd knocked away the heavy blade of a well-armed man, saving his mother's life.

 

Sango staggered, feeling suddenly weak. The horse reared and screamed angrily, as thirsty for blood as its master. She expected the child would die next, die right in front his terrified mother, but strangely, the horseman lowered his heavy sword and faced them.

 

Then the warrior started to laugh like a madman and shouted to his comrades. He raised his arm in some kind of signal, his orders sounding harsh and guttural. To her utter surprise, the other attackers started to withdraw. The boy looked confused, looking back at his mother as no trained warrior would have and then his voice broke in a piercing scream.

 

As soon as he'd turned back for his mother, the horseman in front of him had surged forward, sweeping down with a long arm to seize the child by his hair. Sango could only watch as the struggling child was knocked unconscious and was laid like a dead weight over the horse's withers.

 

Then the dizziness increased and Sango felt sick, falling to her knees as the dream around her faded, muting into shades of gray that whispered around her body like smoke.

 

oOo

 

The woman stirred and opened her eyes, her face was very pale. He sat silently beside her, watching. She seemed unsurprised to find him there and raised a hand to her forehead, wincing as if in pain.

 

“The boy was you,” Sango said, her voice hardly more than a rough croak.

 

Indeed, she was sharp. Even in the magic of his dream, she'd been able to recognize him and that pleased him immensely. As he'd thought, she was more than capable of understanding his mind. It had been effortless for him to guide her to what he wanted to see…one of the few memories that he was able to retain after so many years.

 

“Yes,” he answered, his voice a dark rumble, a sinister purr. “That was myself as a child. How many centuries ago, I do not know.”

 

Grimly, she sat up, pushing her hands behind her and turning her face away. Was it difficult for her to look at him, now that she'd seen the child he'd been? He sat back, his dead-white hands resting on his knees and the long black claws shining in the early morning light.

 

“Why did you show me that?” Sango finally asked. He smiled to himself; of course she'd question his reasons. It should be obvious to her, but he was willing to explain. Patiently.

 

“I was taken from my home as a young boy,” he said, letting his words roll over her in soft tones. “It was so long ago, I do not remember the name I was given. In any case, it does not matter as I have no need for such a name. The ones who took me made sure I did not remember.”

 

She said nothing, only continued to stare up at the sky. It was steadily growing lighter as if in response to her wishes. He preferred the shadows. Strange how the memories seemed stronger now that he'd shared them with her. Almost, he willed her back to sleep, to see if reliving those tortured years would gain more understanding.

 

“Did…did you ever see your family again?” Her question was sullen, as if she resented her own curiosity. Sango didn't want to know more about him, she didn't want to understand this thing that had captured her. He could feel that resentment and fear as plainly as he'd felt her anger. And he savored them just as keenly as he intended to savor her kisses one day.

 

“They were ignorant peasants,” he said, his voice a sibilant hiss. “Nomads, herders of goats and only gathered their pathetic tribe together for the long rainy seasons when they couldn't travel. My people, I recall, lived in squalor and poverty, and they kept no arms at all.”

 

“And that makes them pathetic?” she asked, hitching herself up to lean on her elbows. He admired the shape of her body as she moved, the lean waist and muscular thighs. Smiling darkly, he reached over to touch the collar of her yukata and slid his finger between the fabric and her skin.

 

Flushing, the woman pushed his hand away. She was so bold, even afraid of his touch; she was bold enough to reject him openly. “Yes,” he said, not even annoyed that she recoiled from him. “They were pathetic, the men who took me understood more of the world. They saw my potential, I suppose, and thought to turn me into their weapon.”

 

“But your family,” she said again, drawing him back to what didn't matter anymore. “I saw your mother, she was alive when they took you. Didn't you ever wonder…”

 

“No,” he bit out. “They were weak, I was not. None of them would have survived what was done to me. For years they trained me under the harshest conditions, conditions a weak child like yourself could not begin to understand.”

 

The memories were becoming clearer, years of torment, hardship. Days into weeks, into years of abuse…to make him stronger. To make him ruthless, merciless. Worse than the punishing, physical training had been…

 

“They kept me for years,” he said, his voice gone hollow. The woman was holding her breath, listening to him. “Their priests were human, and they used their skills to bind my youki and bend it their will.”

 

“Humans did that to you?” She sounded so surprised and when he looked at her, she was sitting up and facing him seriously. The woman's eyes were full of sympathy for the boy he had been, an innocent.

 

There was more to it than that, but he couldn't find the words to describe what had truly been done to him. A fine, prying magic like needles in his brain, burning away what might have once been compassion and replacing it with sadistic pleasure in pain. They'd twisted him impossibly, turning him into a beast at the end of their chain.

 

To destroy the hated youkai of their lands.

 

“They called themselves exterminators,” he said, feeling her horror creeping with every word. “They thought to turn me into their tool, but all they accomplished was their own destruction.”

 

He remembered his escape quite well now. How their torture had made him stronger than they'd dreamed, how once he'd freed himself from their binding spells…his power was like a fiery wind of pure devastation. In a single night, he'd murdered and hacked his way through all the humans who'd held him prisoner and emerged from the chaos bathed in their blood.

 

She was trembling. The woman, he had not meant to make her afraid again, but somehow she could sense what he'd done. Just like she'd felt sympathy for the child taken from his home, just like she'd pitied his fate, she could feel the darkness burning inside of him.

 

Tenderly, he reached out and stroked her cheek. So warm, so soft…he wanted her now, nothing could quench the desire this time. Yes, she was an exterminator herself, but he bore her no hatred for that. It made her all the more desirable, to have a woman like this under his control. It would have been too easy to hurt her, take her, but so much more satisfying if he could teach her to revel in becoming his.

 

She flinched when he moved close, averting her face when he kissed her throat hungrily. Exciting, to have her know at last what he wanted from her. It wasn't her body he wanted, or even her child. He would not stop until Sango became his…completely…and lived within the darkness at his side.

 

“No,” she whispered as his caresses became more insistent. “You promised me you wouldn't…”

 

“I am tired of waiting,” he growled into her chest. “If you do not resist, if you do not fear me, your child will not be harmed.”

 

Sango gasped as he swept aside the thin fabric that covered her breasts, his tongue hot and hungry. Either way, she was lost. Everything she'd endured since he'd freed her from Naraku had been wasted. She could feel the dark madness that consumed him; it was like a sickness battering against her body and mind.

 

Gentle or cruel, she would be destroyed by it.

 

No, she would not give up so easily. Sango knew it was futile to struggle; it would only incite him to be more vicious in taking what he wanted. Instead she let her body go limp, passively accepting his kisses and his touch. Her body would be defiled, but her spirit would survive. As the world around her grew dark, she clung to the presence of her unborn baby. Its youki was like a small golden light, a tiny flame that she wrapped herself around protectively.

 

Her baby…Sesshomaru's baby…together they would endure this too.

 

“I just have one question,” she murmured, her voice already fading like a forgotten dream.

 

He raised his head and looked at her. Those eyes, how could she not see the child he had been? For all they burned like black flames, they were stoked with the blood of a thousand and more murders. Depravity was ingrained within him, taught him as a child until he learned to feed upon the monstrous acts of terror.

 

She refused to believe that was all there was to his story.

 

“What is it, dear love?” he asked, his fingers probing deeper, searching for her. He could afford another moment of patience.

 

“After you escaped…did you go to find your family?”

 

She didn't know what she was expecting for an answer, maybe denial or a cruel laugh. Instead he froze, his fingers stopped their invasion and he stared at her like she'd stabbed him with her words. Then, swift as lightning, he pulled away and left her shuddering with relief.

 

“Yes.”

 

Sango cried out when his hand buried itself in her hair, wrenching her to her feet. He dragged her to the nearest tree and flung her hard against it, his claws already seizing her throat. Her question, meant only to distract him, had inflamed the madness within him and she knew that she was about to die.

 

“You want to know about my family?” he rasped, digging in with the tips of his claws until she felt sticky blood on her throat. “You care what happened to those fools, passive weak creatures that only wanted to be left in peace?”

 

She couldn't answer; he was squeezing her throat so tightly that she couldn't breathe. Desperately, she pulled at his hand, but it was locked around her neck like an iron shackle. As her vision dimmed and the blood roared in her ears, she felt him invade her body once again. But this time it was with his mind that he violated her.

 

As dusk fell across an endless landscape, she saw the fires of an encampment. Small tents made of skins, decorated with bright woven banners here and there. Men sat by the fire, tending to their tools while women cooked together. Here and there, children ran around the small camp, laughing as they played or were put to tasks. It made her shiver, they looked so vulnerable…

 

“See them now,” he whispered, his voice ice against her ear. Sango struggled, somehow knowing what she'd been brought here to see. She didn't want to see it, but his arm was like steel around her belly, his claws against her throat.

 

“No,” she murmured, closing her eyes. Closing her eyes did nothing; she could still see everything just as plainly…it was his vision, in her mind.

 

Up a hill that overlooked the small camp, a slim figure appeared. His hair was long and matted, his adolescent face hidden by the tangles. But she could see him well, could see that his clothing was torn and stained with dark blood. In each hand, he held a long sword; the bright steel already caked with gore.

 

“No,” Sango said again, denying what she knew had already happened centuries before.

 

The boy ran down the hill, his voice rising in guttural challenge. Swifter than the men who grabbed for spears, much faster than the women who ran to protect their children…he cut them apart as if they were standing still. Screams tore the air and Sango found herself sobbing for those helpless people even as she stood in the arms of the same monster that had murdered them.

 

Then it was over, she was lying on the ground with his hand over her eyes. Panting, sickened, Sango shoved herself away and tucked her head against her knees. She'd seen battles many times, seen innocent villagers die from attacks, and seen the kind of brutality that humans inflicted upon each other. Somehow this memory seemed all the more horrible, because it wasn't even hers.

 

“You murdered them,” she said, her voice muffled. “Your own family…damn you. Why?”

 

His finger stroked her cheek, lifting her chin and patiently wiping away each tear streak as if to seal the vision against her skin. “Because they were weak and they were useless to me,” he said as if that explained everything. “Did not your younger brother do something similar?”

 

She caught her breath and then steeled herself with anger. “Kohaku didn't have any choice,” she spat furiously. “You knew what you were doing!”

 

“And you can still forgive him for your family's murder?”

 

“Of course,” she cried, her hands balled into tight fists that ached to beat the cruel smile from his face. “How could I not forgive him? It wasn't his fault, he was just a boy! Naraku took him away and forced him, he made him forget. He made him into a monster!”

 

The words hung in the air and Sango's eyes widened. Slowly, realizing what she'd just said, she raised her shaking hands to her mouth. She'd called her brother a monster, no, Naraku was the monster…but that wasn't what she'd said.

 

“I am no different than your young brother,” the demon said coldly. “I was also made into what I am. Yet you revile me while you preach your forgiveness.”

 

“Kohaku never wanted…” she whispered, but it was already too late.

 

“Nor did I,” the dark youkai said softly. Then he smiled and she cringed away from him, knowing that this was what he'd planned from the beginning. Sango winced as he reached for her, putting his cold hands on either side of her face so that she couldn't look away.

 

“I promise you,” he said, staring into her eyes with solemn darkness. “When you are remade, I will take away your memories completely. You will feel no grief for your lost ones…and no pain for their deaths.”

 

“You're insane,” she breathed, suddenly seeing what he had meant for her from the beginning. She'd been a fool, thinking he planned on waiting until her child was born. Just as she'd been a fool for thinking she might have hope of winning over this darkness.

 

He smiled again, and chastely brushed her lips. “In particular, I will see that you have no memory of this man whose name you whisper in your dreams. When you awaken, you will know only me. The child in your womb is mine; you will have no memory of that other man's touch. You will love me then, my dearest one. And you will love the world I have created for you.”

 

Darkness rushed in upon her, a falling black tide of night. Her lips moved soundlessly, hot tears poured from her sightless eyes. He would remake her, he would rename her, and Sango…a woman who'd fought bravely alongside dear friends, grieved and worried over her younger brother, and fallen in love with a demon prince…died.