InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Violet Eyes and Demon Pride ❯ Violet Eyes and Demon Pride ( One-Shot )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Amadoni
[Sesshomaru X Shiori] Life for a hanyou was cruel. The silence and the gray are the only things that they can safely hang onto. Shiori’s passage through life didn’t need anymore reminders. [Revised]

Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Psychological / Angst | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 11.25.2007 | Updated On: 12.17.2007 | Pages: 5 | Words: 7.3K | Visits: 391 | Status: Completed


Disclaimer: I do not own or profit from Inuyasha and its characters.
Warning: Implied rape.

Violet Eyes and Demon Pride

To gift a love with pearls is to gift them with tears and sadness.
 
oOo
 
“Go away, half-breed,” the boy screamed.
 
“Yah, we don't want to play with you,” another child taunted.
 
“You look weird with that white hair of yours,” said another as she began pulling on the hanyou's white hair.
 
Shiori spoke not a word as the other children started hitting and kicking her as well.
 
Silence is a friend all its own, a constant companion to one who walks alone.
 
The village children confused her. When her father lived, they wouldn't come near her, as if afraid of something. When her father stopped coming, they then started beating her. But then, since she helped save the village from her demon grandfather, the village simply tolerated her and her mother.
 
At least she had her mother, she often thought.
 
“Shiori, dear, why are you so quiet,” her mother would sometimes ask.
 
“I don't know, but I think I like the quiet,” she responded and hugged the older woman, “Mother.”
 
Shiori twirled the white strands of her mother's hair and compared the hue to her own.
 
“Mother, look,” she said in awe, “they almost match now!”
 
Her mother said nothing for a long time and then, “Shiori, I have a gift for you.”
 
“Really, what is it?”
 
Shizu carefully crept toward the far side of the hut and, with trembling hands, took out a small brown covered package.
“Your father gave it to me.”
 
Handing the package to her daughter, Shizu allowed Shiori to open it. Shiori didn't know exactly what to expect but tears were not one of them. There are many superstitions in her village. One of them is the gift of tears.
 
She didn't want to pull the contents out; she couldn't understand why her mother would give her such a thing. Or more importantly, why would her father would give her mother such a gift?
 
Shiori lives by the sea; she has seen many colors of pearls and many hues of white. She has never seen gray pearls until today. Dumbfounded, she looked towards her mother. But she can't because her vision is blurred like looking up to the ocean's surface. Oddly enough, she found it difficult to breathe as well.
 
oOo
Shiori can still remember the day her human mother died.
The seaside was her home, her childhood, and the most concrete of memories for her. The sea, the shore, the sky all held a moment and a memory of happier times. Though she had bat demon blood running in her veins, Shiori lived with her eyes and dreamed in vivid colors.
Twenty seven, she counted once, was the number of different shades of blue the sea was painted with. And, oh, such wonderful paint it was! For in each curl of the surf represented another stroke of an invisible brush the kamis' mused. She always looked to the sea.
The sea always meant hope in her mind. Maybe, it was because her father would come to them through the sea. Mother always said she looked like Father.
oOo
Shiori, let me brush your hair.
Ok.
You know, your father's hair was this color.
Yes, Mother, I remember.
He was so beautiful, just like you. I can't imagine how beautiful you'll be when you get older.
I guess we'llhave towait andsee, right?
oOo
Shiori's mother didn't respond that day or the day after that or the day after that; she died.
Mother would often mention that if he lived he would have stayed beautiful forever. Shiori thought that it didn't matter now. Did the world revolve around beauty, Shiori wondered. What her human mother failed to say was that humans change quickly and grow old with age. No one took the time to tell her that she would most likely outlive her mother.
Her home was caressed in hues of the sea and shimmered in sandy-day golds and diamond-night skies. Those memories would always be Shiori's memories of those times. Shiori knew love, mother's love.
That wasn't to say she didn't remember when her father stopped coming or when her grandfather took her or when the village children beat her. She had her mother to hold her dear and wipe away her small fears.
But Shiori remembered that last day in the village.
She remembered the day when she stopped dreaming in color. A gaunt seagull flew over the misty colored sea. The sky disappeared and was covered with pale clouds of gray. The canvas was stripped of all its color like her mother, pale, lifeless, and gaunt. Shiori was foolish enough to be glad when Mother's hair colored like her own. And then she realized that her hair really wasn't made of color. Foolish.
With her mother dead, Shiori had to leave the village or face the mob of villagers that cursed her existence and spit upon her sacred heritage. She wasn't allowed at the funeral. The monks insisted that the body be burned in hopes of purifying the soul. Colorless tears fell down her cheeks as she ran from the scene. Ignorance, she quickly learned, did not save one from the cruelty ofthe world.
She was naive enough to believe that they would let her stay; she only had enough time to grab a few small things. She will never understand why she took the gray pearls.
And thus began the journey of Shiori learning what every hanyou eventually learned: loneliness.
oOo
Shiori learned early to keep her head covered and travel in the shadows. Trust no one was what kept her alive. She ate what the forest had to offer. Villagers were too superstitious to bother her in there. Unfortunately, for Shiori, she was too stupid to realize that demons would bother her instead. She was scared. And mother was no longer alive to care for her.
Shiori had just finished catching fish and began cooking them by the small fire when a chilling howl echoed in the dark forest. All her demon senses told her to run like a bat out of hell if she could and that is exactly what she did. She heard the sounds coming closer and she knew that they had her scent and she was well aware that she probably wouldn't get away. She simply wasn't fast enough yet. Unlike her human counterparts, Shiori still had the body of twelve year old.
Stray limbs and gnarled roots grabbed at her as she tried desperately to get away. The wind itself seemed to scratch at her delicate tattered frame. Finally, as the sounds came ever closer, Shiori did the only thing left that she could think of—hide.
She managed to climb up a tree and stay as still as possible; she was hoping that they would give up.
She hoped for the wrong thing.
The wolves quickly caught up with her and began scratching at the bark. Just as hungry as she was, they tried to climb the ancient tree.
Feeling that her life was in danger and not wanting to reunite with her parents this soon, something within Shiori slightly pulsed. Though the pulse was not enough to deter the wolves, it shook Shiori to her core. She had to survive; she refused to die today. Shiori's once vibrant violet eyes turned into the deepest blood red. And with the second pulse, a crimson barrier spread from within her and engulfed the tree while pushing the wolves away.
As the dawn of light peaked over the horizon and saturated the dark forest, the wolves gave up on what they thought would be an easy meal. With the threat completely gone, Shiori released the barrier and with tired violet eyes fell into an exhausted sleep.
Shiori was alone, but she now knew she wasn't completely defenseless.
oOo
A lot time had passed since her mother's death. Her life was not getting any easier. It was simply becoming far too difficult to just hide. She was cold, she was tired, and she was now near the point of starvation. Fallen spring had long since passed; ominous winter laid open claim to the world. Ice covered the lakes and streams. Snow choked even the smallest fruit from growing. If Shiori didn't find food soon, she knew she would die—die in a place filled with the same shades as her mother's ashen grave.
The hollow winds were unforgiving as they pierced her frail, weak form. All she could do at this point was focus on putting one foot in front of the other. The hanyou barely registered the crunching sound her sandled feet made as she took her shaking steps; she kept hugging herself to keep some warmth inside, hoping it would keep her alive a little longer. It felt like it had been days since she had been walking, but in reality, it was only hours, and such grueling hours they were. Time seemed slower as its frozen hand seemed to push against her.
Out of all the ways Shiori thought that she would die—and she has thought of many many ways that she could—freezing to death was not one of them. She can't feel her body anymore; she only knows that she is moving which means her limbs are still attached. And then she sees it, she stops dead thinking that she must be mistaken until she blinks a few times to confirm it.
A light in a cave, and with the light means fire, and with the fire means warmth, Shiori hopes so at least. She doesn't know how, but she is able to run to the source. Ever quiet, she peeks into the opening and notices that no one is there. The smell of cooked food hits her nose. Shiori's too cold and too hungry to think that whoever they are might come back soon.
Shiori eats her fill of the cooked meat; she's warm but still tired. She unwisely falls asleep.
And that is exactly when they return.
oOo
Lord Sesshoumaru and his retainer had only recently set camp when the demon Lord sensed danger near. As a result, they both left the site to eliminate the problem. Neither expected the sight that welcomed them back.
Jaken was first to voice his distain and hit Shiori on the head with his wooden staff.
Shiori cannot remember the last time she was so rudely awakened, but she never will forget this one.
“Scram, you disgusting half-breed,” screeched the bulbous-eyed kappa demon as he continued to whack her over the head.
The hanyou was about to attack the irritant when she sensed the foreboding aura of the demon's master.
Shiori couldn't move; she feared too greatly.
Noticing where her focus was, Sesshoumaru responded,
“Leave now.”
The demon Lord had no time for such vermin, but he wasn't in the mood to dirty his claws.
When Shiori continued to do nothing, Sesshoumaru started walking towards her.
“I said leave,” he seethed with just a little venom in his tone.
With Shiori still petrified to her spot, the demon Lord unsheathed his sword and was on the verging of striking her when a powerful crimson barrier stopped the sword's decent.
Jaken gasped at the implications, but Sesshoumaru was not amused.
He continued to strike the barrier looking for signs of weakness when finally he stopped. By this time, Shiori placed all her efforts on keeping the barrier up. Like the wolves, she hoped that he would lose interest in killing her.
Sesshoumaru sheathed his sword and simply waited; he knew it was only a matter of time.
Jaken couldn't help but smile and wait as well.
The night continued its flight to the West.
oOo
Shiori can't keep track of time; she never has, and that is her greatest vice. For with the end of night comes the dawn of day, and Shiori would lose her demon powers and enter her human day.
She can sense it even now, and she knows that this new enemy can as well. She sees what appears to be a faint smile on his callous, smooth face.
By now, the powerful demon has sent his retainer on some errand. And as the last of her barrier disintegrates along with her hanyou appearance, Shiori awaits the fatal blow.
But nothing happens.
She cautiously looks at him and cannot fully understand what emotion she is seeing. And what an intense emotion it was. He stares at her shamelessly, or more correctly, he looks through her and sees another.
Shiori isn't the only one that is haunted by memories and enjoys the silence.
oOo
Sesshoumaru-sama, Sesshoumaru-sama, look what Rin found.
Sesshoumaru-sama, Rin is sorry that she is such a nuisance.
Sesshoumaru-sama will remember Rin, right?
oOo
He never responds; he never will. He is perfection, and he made a grave mistake. The girl could have lived if he had acted quickly. She might as well have died by his own hands, he considers.
Shiori doesn't understand what's so remarkable about her appearance now, considering she looks as ordinary as any other human girl.
But Sesshoumaru knows, and he cannot bring himself to kill her, her appearance now brings up too many memories of a fragile human child with songs and flowers and happier times, except now instead of being dead, Rin looks very much alive. And a part of him, the part he rarely brings into light, wants to keep it that way. He leaves her shaking form and goes towards the direction of his retainer.
Shiori thought the emotion she saw was something close to paternal, her father's adoring eyes. Yet, she brushes away the abstract thought and thanks Kami she's alive.
Today, she looks quite human, especially with her black hair. She comes to realize that it may be safer to life among humans. The human hanyou spends the day making plans.
oOo
Shiori dyes her hair black…her eyes are said to be exotic. And because people believe she's human and very beautiful, she's offered work. And the best work is the kind that keeps you moving from place to place. She goes with a traveling kyokuba and learns how to carry a sword and sing.
And here, after so long, she feels the closest thing to a home, except she still has dreams with no hues. But that is not important, she is no longer hungry, and she's no longer alone. She still prefers the silence. The others often times see her rolling the gray pearls in her hand and think that she enjoys the silence to pray.
It is during this time that Shiori finally understands her mother's strange gift. It wasn't a gift to make her sad and cry; it was a gift of truth, the truth of being a hanyou.
Here, they know little about Shiori, and for Shiori, that is completely fine…until they find out she's hanyou.
“Hey, Saya, Haku, Shiori, make sure the ropes are secure,” said Yuki, “the rainy season was harsh this year, so we must be careful while traveling these mountains.”
“Of course, Yuki,” said Haku, “we wouldn't want an accident to happen.”
“Hold your tongue, Haku,” Saya quipped, “the last thing we need is a freak mudslide on our hands!”
“Hey, Shiori, would you make sure to pray to the kamis to protect us this day,” said Yuki.
“I've told you,” she finally responded while securing the cargo, “I do not pray.”
“Then if those aren't prayer beads, what are they to you,” questioned Saya
Shiori didn't answer for the longest time; but, she would never get a chance to either. Waves of earth were coming right towards the caravan.
“Run, men, run,” screamed Yuki, though his voice proved the futility of it.
And even Shiori could see that they wouldn't run fast enough. She simply reacted and erected a barrier on the caravan of people. Her only thought was that she had to save them all.
And she did.
Their thanks were bidding her away with cuts and bruises as mementos.
oOo
Shiori has no place for ignorance now. Years have passed since her loving mother died and with her death, Shiori finally holds all humans in contempt and despises them to the core. After so much rejection, Shiori has no love. She let the black-colored strands grow out and be replaced by washed-out reality. In her mind, demons killed to survive; humans killed whatever they didn't understand.
Shiori refuses to miss dreaming in colors. She's not a child anymore. It hurts too much to even try. And it's best to ignore the pain. She is hanyou, and she accepts her passage in life. Perhaps, she considers, that time can heal all wounds. It is better to be alone is her last thought just before she enters the forests and leaves human civilization.
oOo
Time never heals all wounds, and sometimes it shouldn't.
Though Shiori has a barrier and a sword to protect herself, she finds far more trouble than before. As Shiori grows, so do her demon powers, she becomes a target for stronger demons looking for an easy snack. She's sick of being at the bottom of the food chain but has no one to protect her. Shiori wishes that she weren't alone anymore; she's tired of fighting.
She had to sell her mother's pearls; she doesn't remember why it's so important to survive.
After this last battle with a centipede demon, Shiori can only drag her sword as she searches for a place to heal. Instead, her body settles for passing out on the road.
oOo
Monks, thieves, and mindless demons could have found her; instead, he did.
Sesshoumaru never expected to see her again. His retainer stumbles on her beaten, bloody form thinking that she's probably dead. But she's not. And for some distorted reason, Sesshoumaru is eased. Still, he will never fully comprehend why he saved her.
But now, he has to ensure that she remains safe in his care. He blames honor; Jaken blames stupid dead girls.
The demon Lord did not know what to expect from her, but one thinghe never expected was that once a month Shiori would look the exact age of Rin, who died at fifteen from a strange fever.
She brings him flowers; she sings; she's happy again. Shiori feels like a girl all over again. The colors aren't the sea but of a different painter and canvas. Hues of green, shades of red and touches of yellow are now the treasures her eyes wish to immortalize. Sesshoumaru watches her, obsesses over her, sees Rin in her, and eventually begins to hate and want her for it.
oOo
“For you,” said the demon Lord as he tossed her the red-papered package and walked away.
“Thank you, Sesshoumaru-sama,” was Shiori's immediate response.
She carefully opened the package and was greeted with an emotional surprise.
“Sesshoumaru-sama,” she said with quivering lips, “H-how did you find them.”
“It matters not,” he softly responds, “put it on.”
With reverent grace, Shiori clasped the gray pearls to her slender neck. She ignores the truth and tears that goes with them.
Sesshoumaru couldn't stop staring. He was pleased with her response, so like Rin.
oOo
But unlike Rin, she is a vision even a demon cannot deny. Her mother did say that she would grow up to be as beautiful as her father. Unfortunately, she never grew up to be just as strong.
Even now, Sesshoumaru looks at her with dark eyes that hold even darker thoughts. His black soul often voices to him:
She is not Rin by any means…look at her.
No, she is hanyou, worthless, low of station.
She should be treated as such...you are Lord after all.
Sesshoumaru will not follow his father's path; he will not dirty is blood line, but neither will he kill her. He will not deny what he wants. He can only ignore his thoughts for so long. In haste, he comes to a single solution. He will take what he wants and leave her.
And so he finally uses her, hurts her, and does not stop until he is satisfied. Sadly for Shiori, he is a demon lord. And it takes much to satisfy his carnal needs. When he is done with her, he says not a word but leaves. She refuses to move from the place he raped her. All that she is aware of is her own breathing. And for now, that is all her mind can take.
Little does Shiori know that there is a new canvas in her life. Her body is covered in shades of blue so like the sea. Red lines cover her sides, and blood flows deeper than any red flower could bear to carry and still hold its form. Yellow splatters her body like yellow splatters the fields. And as tears flow down beautiful violet eyes, the golden sun shimmers on them and brings out the diamonds that memories cannot bear to see.
When Shiori finally has the courage to look at herself, she wished that she would never have to open her eyes again but even more so that she would never dream in colors again.
“Half-breed,” she hears before the darkness takes her.
Life for a hanyou was cruel. The silence and the gray are the only things that they can safely hang onto. Shiori's passage through life didn't need anymore reminders.
Finis
oOo
kyokuba: Japanese traveling circus
AN: A special thanks goes out to my beta, Theresa aka be_a_good_boy_sess. She really helped make this one-shot a better piece to enjoy.