InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Failed ❯ Part Two ( Chapter 2 )

Failed

An Inuyasha fanfiction by Kellen

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: I have no claim upon recognizable characters or concepts, nor do I profit from their use.

Summary: When Kirara becomes curious about the transformation Inuyasha goes through on the moonless night, she follows him into the forest. What happens next is more adventure than the two ever asked for.

Chapter Two

He stood to the side of me, one hand gripping his sword's hilt and the other held to his side, fingers spread wide, as if he were ready to attack with claws that weren't there.

Something rustled to my left and I turned sharply in that direction. Growling as I caught youkai scent, I stepped backward. The bird youkai screeched again, too softly to be jarring but loud enough to sense the anger in the call. My shoulder brushed against the human boy's side. His hand rested on my shoulder. I nudged him.

We had to go. We had to go now. We didn't have time to stand around. I nudged him hard enough to knock him off balance and when his hand tightened reflexively on my shoulder, I stepped forward, nearly pulling him off his feet. Off-balance for only a moment, he quickly climbed onto my back. "You coulda just asked, y'know," he grumbled. I huffed.

There were too many trees to fly effectively, and a bird youkai in the air somewhere. My only comfort was that if I were handicapped in the air, so was the bird.

It was to my right, the other youkai coming along the ground -- I could hear it breaking through underbrush -- on my left, and it seemed they would meet between me and our camp.

Unless I hurried that was.

I had to get to camp; my mistress needed warned. The camp needed roused. I pushed off the earth, flying low and dodging trees. The youkai to my left suddenly picked up its pace dramatically. The bird to my right dove lower to the ground.

They were going to meet in front of us. I'd never make it past. I wheeled, nearly unseating the human, trying to get around behind the less agile of the two creatures: the one on the ground.

The human drew his useless sword. The noises of the lumbering youkai were loud enough now he could hear them. I drove through the underbrush, lighting on the ground and half-running, half flying. I pushed through a thicket, half expecting to come out right on top of the grounded youkai, the way I was recklessly heading for camp.

I nearly did. I camed into a small clearing, barely big enough for me to turn around in, right at the heels of a huge bear youkai. The bird was close, too, pinwheeling through the tree branches above us. The bear snarled at me, and took a half-hearted swipe that I sidestepped.

The hawk took the opportunity to dive at the bear with an earth-shattering battle cry. The bear dodged and clawed at the hawk. I ran for cover, the human crouched on my back. The hawk twisted sideways, claws extended for a killing swipe at the bear, but missed the bear entirely.

I pushed off the ground, but I was too late. The hawk dodged the bear's wild swing, and suddenly found its escape route occupied.

Occupied by me and my passenger. I was barely off the ground when the hawk barreled into us. The human swung that useless sword, landing a hit that only served to anger the damned bird. I slid sideways, and the boy fell. The hawk shoved at me, trying to claw at my eyes. I roared, backpedaling. The hawk pressed its advantage.

It wasn't until after it happened that I realized I couldn't feel the hanyou-turned-human anymore. I wouldn't know until much later that the sword had been dropped and the human had fallen. I wouldn't know where he was until I, with the hawk still shoving and clawing at me, pinned him against fallen tree. And I wouldn't realize it was him I'd accidentally pinned until I heard his pained cry, and felt the bones give under my weight.

I stilled when I realized what I'd done.

That was a mistake; the hawk clawed my side. I retaliated, growling and swiping a paw, catching the bird in the side and throwing it aside, toward the bear lumbering toward us, toward its prey.

Human hands -- hands that I'd hurt -- latched onto my ruff. I rolled to my side, and he swung a leg over my side. Quickly, and hoping I didn't drop him, I leapt upward. He nearly fell again, leaning too far forward.

He knocked me off balance. I wobbled a little in the air and dropped to catch a sturdy branch to push off from. His hands clutched my ruff and I heard his breath hitch. Judging by the ragged breathing, that was not a happy hanyou-turned-human hunched over my back. I pushed off the branch and spun in the air, narrowly avoiding the hawk's claws and taking a half-hearted swipe at its wing. I couldn't fight while taking care of an injured human. I snarled, my frustration getting the better of me. I could not fight like I needed. I could only evade.

And I wasn't doing a very good job of that, either. The spinning turns, the ducking and wheeling had to be tempered to something my passenger could handle. I snorted. My options were limited. Keep the human and risk being cut open by a hawk youkai. Put the human on the ground… My thinking trailed off. No. I would not. Put him on the ground next to an angry bear? He'd be torn apart in seconds.

And as long as the hawk was busy with me, it would not be diving into the camp where our party slept.

Once again, the human surprised me. He leaned forward, pulling himself toward my ear hand over hand. He hissed in pain and mumbled curses in annoyance.

Not that I could blame him, of course. Some of the choicer curses I'd heard were running through my head.

"We're too close to the camp," he grunted.

He must be reading my thoughts. Humans must have that ability. It's happened too often to discount. I huffed, agreeing. At first, my only objective was to get to camp, but now… Now, that the very real possibility that angry youkai would stumble into the camp had come upon us, I wished only to be bait, to lure them away from my companions.

But I had a responsibility. I ducked underneath a branch, paws nearly skimming the ground as I avoided another attack. The bear looked in my direction and took a leap toward me, but I was already in the air when the huge paw came down. Vaguely, I noted the bear's scent shifting, changing direction, but I was preoccupied with the hawk.

It dove again, coming at us from above. I made a dash for the cover of an old tree and nearly crashed into branches. The human hunched over my back as leaves and small branches showered down on us. The hawk screeched and I growled in satisfaction. It had gotten entangled in the branches.

Not a happy youkai, but it gave us some time to regroup.

There was a light slap on my shoulder, and the human called my name. I turned my head, already sniffing the air.

The bear!

Its scent shifted again, less angry and more predatory. For its size and appearance, it moved effortlessly away from us, deftly moving through the brush with nary a sound. It had become a predator on the hunt. I sniffed the air again.

The wind had changed and it blew the tantalizing scent and sound of sleeping prey right into our faces.

The bear youkai was headed for the camp.

I growled. The human's hands tightened in my ruff and he straightened, whispering a ragged "No."

I agreed. I huffed a warning to him and without waiting for him, I roared and leapt toward the bear. With an angry screech, the hawk freed itself from the tree and dove after us. The human leaned forward, nearly burying his face in my neck, and held on tightly. I didn't stop when I reached the bear; to do so would have been suicide by hawk. I raked my claws over its back, and took a swipe at its face as I passed. The hawk, a little too intent on its dive, dug its claws into the bear's back. It roared, the hawk cried and I added my voice.

And if that racket didn't wake up the camp, I was going to just give up.

I landed in front of, but out of immediate reach of, the bear.

The bear reared up, then rolled and successfully batted the protesting hawk away. With a thunderous roar, it came back down on its front paws and snarled at me.

I started forward; this was a fight I fully intended to finish. The bear was not getting to the camp. I didn't care if the youkai fought each other forever; as long as they didn't come near the camp. As long as they didn't injure the human I was protecting. (I pushed away thoughts that said I was the one who pinned him; it was the hawk's fault. The bear's fault. Anyone's but mine.)

He moved, sliding off my back and falling to the ground. I paused, growling low and watching the bear. "Go, Kirara. Fight your fight. I'll get to camp."

I blinked. Surely he didn't think he was in any shape to actually walk that far? There wasn't a way.

I didn't have time to think about it; the bear leapt forward. I turned to meet the charge as the human clumsily leapt into underbrush. I ducked under a powerful swing, then sideways. Up and down, up again. Wheeling around closer to the bear and pulling away. I evaded every blow, leading it away from the human, away from camp. Farther into the trees. The further away, the better.

And all the time, I kept track of the stupid, foolish, brave human's scent. I followed the hawk's every movement with my ears. I leapt over a wild swing, dodging gnashing fangs. I landed out of reach of the bear, head up. The hawk had moved. I peered into the brush, finding the flash of red I was looking for. Eyes wide and a sense of foreboding nearly paralyzing me, I looked around frantically for the hawk.

I found it diving into the brush, aiming straight for the fire-rat red haori.

I roared, finally attacking the brute in front of me. It cried out as I slashed its face and leapt over it. Claws digging into the earth, breath coming short and red eyes wide in anger and panic, I scrambled toward the human I was supposed to be fighting with.

The hawk shrieked, the human cried out. Branches splintered and broke. I smelled fresh blood as the hawk broke through the branches, wings widespread as it shot into the sky.

I was too late.

No. I couldn't be.

Please, don't let me be too late.

TBC

One chapter left. Please review, if you are so inclined. I'd love to know what you think.