InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Unforgiven ❯ Prologue ( Prologue )

Summary: AU Inuyasha and Kagome are trapped together in a dungeon. Strangers Miroku and Sango must fake holy matrimony. Small prices to pay in order to exact their revenge on the man that is the hardest to kill...

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha, but I love to dream about owning him, and the frolicking we might do together…. :p

A/N: Look! A new story (Yes, yes…another story). I wanted to something a lot darker and complicated then all my other fluff-fests. This one actually has multiple layers, which I'm proud of. Well, as of now, I'll let the writing speak for itself. This is just the prologue to introduce the stories of the main characters. At the beginning, none of the main four (shippo won't be in this story) have ever met one another. Please let me know what you think!

"Unforgiven"

PROLOGUE

Inuyasha slumped, defeated against the cold slate wall. Adjusting his limbs painfully, he carefully rolled onto the damp, hard floor. Groaning softly to himself, he rested his forehead against the slimy grittiness of the floor.

His ears sharpened to the sounds around him. The slow drip- drip of brackish water running down the corners of the walls. The clink of the boots of the guard down the long, narrow hallway. And, besides that, nothing but his own breath ringing out in the deafening silence.

How long had he been here, alone in this hell-hole? A week, two, three? He had tried to keep count by scratching crude marks in the wall beside him. But, he had soon found that days melded into nights. Such little light was filtered into his cell. It all began to look like night. And, the guard brought food at irregular hours.

He would eventually find a way out, though- wouldn't he? He had tried everything, it seemed- from attempting to pull apart the bars with his bare hands, to digging a hole in the ground. He growled almost silently, trying to relieve his wrists of the jabbing pain from the metal cuffs that held them tightly together in front of his body. His muscles twitched. His claws were little more than useless, with his hands twisted like this.

Things would have been so much simpler if he had the Tetsusaiga.

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The load was heavy for her, weighed down her shoulders. The boomerang was strapped securely over her back, wrapped inconspicuously in coarse sackcloth, as she made her way through the bustling marketplace. She had been carrying it for days now, and it was becoming a burden. But, Sango barely felt the weight of the heavy bone weapon as she moved lithely through the throng. The weapon was far lighter than the weight that was slowly anchoring her heart and her soul.

Curling the hood tighter around her dark head of hair, she side-stepped a horse and carriage that stunk of weeks-old meat and produce. A young boy and father drove the cart, wheeling it through the steady stream of shoppers and beggars. Sango flitted her eyes to them for a second. Though they looked ragged, the two were smiling. She choked back the resurfacing grief.

The faces of her brother and father…they were no longer smiling like that. They were without expression. She suddenly felt like retching, but she held the nauseas feeling back.

Perhaps it was her hunger that was causing her stomach to feel like it was being torn apart? Maybe it was time she finally rested, she considered. It had been days since she had eaten a good meal, and even longer since she had slept longer than a few hours at once. Her body was starting to protest from the overwork.

She stumbled a little, dizziness rolling over her in waves. She would stop to eat, if not to also collect her thoughts and steel herself once more. Spotting what looked like a small tavern squeezed between two shops, Sango made her way forward. She hoped deeply that she would not be recognized as an exterminator. And, if she were…what would happen to her?

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His memories were flooding back to him in a rush. It was so easy to get dragged into self-destructive thoughts when you were alone in such a hopeless place. He feebly tried to clutch his arms around his body to keep warm. He was slowly becoming thinner. Despite his efforts to keep his muscles in top form as always, the lack of good food had caused his body to atrophy slightly.

This was exactly what his captor wanted. To see him suffer the rest of his life. Give him enough to stay alive. Give him enough room to move. But not enough light to stay sane. To rot alone with his miserable thoughts. Is this how he would die- in lonely torment like this? The sadistic son-of-a-bitch! He furrowed his brows once more. No, this wouldn't be the end. He wouldn't let it be. No matter what, his captor would be dead. And he was sure to be there laughing when it happened.

Inuyasha accidentally drew a finger against the gaping wound in his chest. He bit his lips hard to stop from whimpering aloud. His half demon blood would cause the wound to heal fast, but the unsanitary conditions and dirty water made the process painful.

He breathed out slowly. Where was she right now?

Wherever she was, he hoped that she wasn't hurting like he was. He wished that she was in peace in the other world, surrounded by the sweet-smelling flowers that she loved…content. But he could also imagine another scenario…something that was far worse. She had not forgiven him, and was now bound for hell. She would forever be in torment because of his pride….his stupidity.

His heart ached painfully, even if all his other senses felt dull and slowed. He rolled up slowly from his position on the floor, trying but failing to find a comfortable position against the impossibly hard wall behind him.

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She felt as if all eyes in the room were on her, as she curled her body around her food like a hungry animal. Her eyes darted around warily. In truth, as Sango ate fervently, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, many eyes were on her- but not for the reasons she had feared.

It was because, no matter how loosely her cloak fell on her body, or how matted her hair looked, it was obvious upon first glance that she was a woman of exceptional beauty. In the haze of pipe-smoke and steam from pots and ovens, she looked like a solitary, mourning angel.

One man in particular had begun to watch her like a hawk, his soft, dark eyes becoming trained on and interested in her every move. How she balanced the food expertly, the defensive way in which she clutched the large bundle at her side. Mostly, he found himself attracted to her beauty. After a while of this, he decided it was time to make his move. After all, a woman that looked so sorrowful and yet so strong had become a rarity in these parts.

He casually eased himself up on the barstool next to hers, motioning for the bartender to pour him another glass of ale. The girl did her best to ignore him, her eyes boring holes into the plate below her, and her full lips set in a grim line. He took a long sip of the beer, trying artfully to catch her eye.

After she could not take his stares any longer, she flashed angry eyes to him. "What do you want?!"

The man was handsome, with deeply chiseled features and shining dark hair and eyes. From the rosy tinge in his cheeks and the slight droop in his smile, she figured he was probably drunk. He flashed a row of white teeth at her in a sly smile, wordlessly moving his warm hand to rest on her thigh. Sango flinched in surprise and horror, her limbs automatically stiffening under the unwanted pass.

Before Miroku could register what had happened, he was slammed hard into the bar behind him, surprisingly strong fingers clutching dangerously around his windpipe. Sango made it obvious that she wouldn't stand for his actions, but she noted that, though he looked surprised, he didn't look at all afraid. Almost lazily, he pried her fingers from his throat, and slid back onto the barstool, leaving her huffing in anger and confusion.

Purposefully not sparing her another glance, he picked up his glass once again. Her eyes almost spitting fire, Sango returned to her seat.

"You know," he began, his voice silky and deep. "There are plenty of men here that would be glad to have you. You should be careful." He ran his eyes up her body suggestively.

She blushed under his gaze, frowning and speaking furiously. "So I suppose you only act perverted to warn me?"

Miroku suddenly broke out into a lopsided grin. "Of course not. I am also one of those who wants you. But I know my limits. And I know an even match when I see one."

Sango said nothing in return, her face still flushed. Who was this man?

"So, why are you here in the capital? It's very obvious that you aren't from around here."

She grew somber again, rolling a piece of food around her plate with her fork, but tried to evade answering him.

He quirked an eyebrow at her, leaning forward. "From the looks of it, and the weapon at your side," he nodded to the bundle that was her hiraikotsu, "you didn't come for a holiday."

"I'm here…to avenge my family and my village." She stared resolutely ahead, as if affirming her words in her mind.

He looked sobered. "If you don't mind my asking…who do you aim to kill for your revenge?"

Sango was silent for a moment, like she was shuffling for the words in her mind, deciding if it was safe to tell this man anything. "The man….that lead the raid against my village. He used a horde of demons, and killed every last person…except for me. I was the only survivor."

Miroku suddenly look saddened, and nodded that he understood perfectly. He let her return to her food for a moment, as he swished around the drink in front of him. "I seek revenge, too." She paused in her eating. "He killed my father seven years ago…and only because he was in the way. A man named Naraku." He whispered the name.

Sango's head snapped up, her eyes burning once more. "Naraku?!" She said, loudly.

He looked almost frantic, as she spoke the name, shushing her. "That's not a name that you say so loudly around these parts! It will only attract unwanted attention. He has spies everywhere…."

She looked wary again, checking over her shoulder to make sure the men behind her were not listening. Then she leaned in towards Miroku. "He is the one that killed my brother and father! Where is he? Do you know where can I find him?" She inquired frantically.

Miroku looked at her with a blank calmness. "Of course I know where he is…but it is not so easy to just walk up and kill him. You may not have realized, but Naraku is now in control of this region. And, he is growing in influence. Not only is he powerful, but also heavily guarded." He raised an eyebrow at her, and Sango looked wilted.

"So then there is no way to defeat him?" Her voice radiated hopelessness.

Miroku smiled grimly. "I didn't say that. It will just be difficult."

Sango lowered her voice as much as she could, realizing that this was not something they could wisely discuss in a crowded tavern. " What is your plan then? How will you get near him?"

Miroku ordered another drink. "I'm an officer in his guard, soon to be promoted. One day soon, I will be living in the palace."

Sango looked envious. Miroku noticed.

"I can help you out, if you'd like. I can always arrange something for a beautiful woman."

Sango looked as if she wanted to jump at the chance, but shut her mouth like a trap as the thoughts whirled around inside her head. Then, slowly, she spoke. "Why should I trust you? How do I know that you are not a spy, and that you will not turn me in to the guard?"

He met her glare with an honest face. "And why would you think that I have reason trust you?"

She nodded darkly in compliance. "Just so you know…if you try anything funny….I won't hesitate to kill you." Her words were icy cool, despite the excitement she had shown before.

Miroku smiled that disalarming smile once more, as he emptied the last drops of his drink into his mouth. "I don't doubt it. I'm Miroku." He stuck out his hand to her.

She eyed it warily, then pulled her hand from inside her cloak to grasp his. "Sango."

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A/N: Interesting, huh? Hope you enjoy it so far. I have it all planned out, and I myself enjoy the plotline and characters tremendously.

Please leave a review!