InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Half-Breed ❯ Chapter IX ( Chapter 11 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: rockthedragon7 
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 03.31.2005 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.8K | Visits: 167 | Status: Completed
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 03.31.2005 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.8K | Visits: 167 | Status: Completed
Half-Breed: Chapter IX
A pair of stealthy shadows slipped in through the door, gliding quietly on careful steps to cross the space toward me. I had fallen asleep sometime after I grew tired of mulling over my fate, and now sat with my back against the wall, my head hanging low with my chin to my neckline, resting well for the first time in what must have been eight days. My ears flicked forward as a pace fell a little too loudly on the tatami, and they hesitated a bit at the alert movements of my ears, but I did not wake. Now, when I think about it, I’m disgusted with myself for not waking before they reached me - I must have been pretty damn worn-out not to heed the warning that my senses were giving me. My ears continued to hitch, now quite aware of every step that the intruders made, slowly, frantically pulling me back into consciousness.
Just as I cracked my eyes open, the shadows descended upon me, one cold and clammy hand clamping over my mouth, one seizing my throat, and another pair wrapping around my wrists. My eyes were wide with shock as I struggled against the intruders’ grips. I could see the two clearly in the dark, with great detail, though not much colour. Both were men, middle-aged, glaring down at me and black hair tied up into topknots. One had a face covered in stubble, and the other was missing one eye, a jagged scar down his cheek. Both were muscular. Both were strong. Both were looking for something to kill.
[Fight!] I sank my fangs into the soft flesh of the hand covering my mouth, and twisted my wrists out of capture, raking my razor claws along the other man’s forearms. The men stumbled backward, crying out in pain, blood readily pouring from their wounds. I was on my feet in an instant, fangs and claws bared and set to defend this body that they belonged to, a warning to whomever would challenge them. But the intruders made no move to come at me. One man was favoring the deep gashes on his arms, and the other was bearing a wicked grin across his face, though a good deal of tissue had been torn from his hand, the white of a bone showing through the blood. I growled loudly in my chest. Both men stood and fled out the door. Well, they certainly weren’t up for coming to blows.
Reluctantly, I lowered my claws to my sides, sinking back to the floor. My palms and fingers were sticky with the warm red liquid and my mouth was filled with taste of blood, my nose filled with the scent. I wiped my lips with the back of one hand, dark streaks lining the contradictory light skin, and I simply gazed at the crimson fluid coating my claws. If I hasn’t been so sure that the intruders were looking for a life to eradicate, I wouldn’t have resorted to looking to those claws for help. I hadn’t injured the men beyond superficially. They would heal fast enough, though they might be left with a few scars, but wouldn’t those make for interesting tales to tell the grandchildren. They had attacked me first anyway. I did what I had to. And with the confident thought that I had been right, I closed my eyes.
I woke to furious screaming, outraged and angry shouting past anything that I had heard. Yasume’s voice was there mingled amongst the enraged words, but didn’t seem a part of them. I was curious of the source of the commotion, and slowly got to my feet, heading for the doorway.
Yasume was standing between the entrance to the hut and what I was convinced was a very, very angry mob. “Damn it, Yasume! Get out of the way!” the villagers were screaming at her. “Will it be his vile and pathetic life, your will it be yours!?”
“What has he done to deserve a death by your hands?” Yasume replied, her voice wavering.
“You know very well what!” one man cried furiously. “A man was killed last night! Slaughtered! Butchered! Great, long gashes cut into his chest, his throat slit wide! Two others were wounded trying to protect the old man!” My stomach turned over. I recalled the smell of death upon the intruders’ hands. They had killed that poor man, wished to be injured by my hands… They set up the incident to look as though I had taken the life of one and wounded two. There was still blood on my hands… The villagers though me guilty.
“Look at him!” Yasume shouted in objection. “Could he really be capable of that!? He’s a child…”
“Not your child!” The taijiya woman froze, tears of anger in her eyes. “He will grow into a monster!” the man screamed. “A monster that will kill our animals, plunder our villages, devour our children, rape our women! Will you allow it, Yasume!? Damn the siren that would care for such a beast! The wretch should have been slain in that forest! His filthy head should be upon a mantle! He is not your son, Yasume!”
Yasume slowly nodded, and whispered, “I know.”
“Step aside, Yasume. You cannot redeem your mind of mistakes by caring for the thing within those walls,” the man said softly now, gesturing toward the hut with his head. “It will not bring your boy back.” The taijiya woman bowed her head, reluctantly moving from their path. I couldn’t breathe… His lying words had gotten to her.
I staggered back from the door, my back pressing against the wall farthest from the entrance as the man entered, fear and confusion written plainly on my face. He glared at me, and came closer, and I slipped along the wall, stumbling over a chair, claws searching frantically for an exit I knew did not exist there.
“Did you enjoy the sounds of that man’s wails before he fell dead?” he growled through clenched teeth. I shook my head, finding my back in a corner, the distance between myself and the growing crowd quickly closing. My mind was reeling, passing over he hateful faces. Why did they blame me? How could they blame me? I wanted to scream at them… I’m six years old. I bear wounds that any number of you would perish from. My mother is dead. I have no father. I have no home. For eight days I have been hunted. For eight godforsaken days I have been alone. And yet, here you stand. Here you stand before me as bloodthirsty men and women. Murderers. Angry. Why do you blame me?
I could see Yasume off to one side, hiding in the shadows, a silent plead for forgiveness in her eyes. Her lips formed the words… I’m sorry. I paled as though she had struck me, and I stared at her in a moment of disbelief. She had turned her back on me, this woman who I thought I could trust. No, this wasn’t the woman whose shoulder I had cried on. This wasn’t the woman who had cared for me. This wasn’t the woman who reminded me so much of my mother. I saw nothing of her, but a horrible, disfigured sneer upon her face.
And I was angry.
[Fight!] My claws came up in front of me, swiping at the pole that was swung at me, cutting the steel cleanly in half. A furious growl rose in my throat as the man lurched back in shock, holding the two ends of the staff in bewilderment. The mob leapt ahead, cries of rage leading the way beside the pitchforks, the weapons, the torches, and seething glares. With a powerful push from my legs, a hole exploded into the roof, and I was outside, the Fire Rat kariginu in one clenched fist. Stones and arrows soared up at me. A rock hit me in the face. An arrow stuck in my leg. I felt no pain. There was only fury, burning in my veins like fire.
I hit the ground running, and as I looked back over my shoulder, Yasume rushed from her hut, sorrowful and repentant tears falling down her face. I did not see them.
For hours upon end, I sped through the forest, trying to flee from the voices shrieking, echoing in my head. Curses of death, of hell. I finally staggered to my knees, my chest heaving painfully. My clasped fists shook with anger, my claws cutting into my palms, and I bared my fangs at those hateful faces floating around in my mind. Far too many times, humans had been quicker to blame me than one of their own spineless kind. But that’s the way it is when you’re different. No one cares for you. No one believes you. No one trusts you. You’re always the first to be blamed. And it is always, always your fault.
They didn’t know what it was like to try so hard to protect themselves from judgment, to pretend not to care what people say. They didn’t know what it was like to be mistreated, to be hated. Kill half-breeds at birth, people say. Let them starve, drown them in a sack full of rocks, burn them, behead them… deny them the right to even exist at all. Maybe I wasn’t worth wasting a life on. After all, I was a just filthy half-breed, a plague to society, a strain of cancer, and it didn’t matter if I was the product of love. I had no place in this world.
Humans were no different than the demons they despised - heartless, corrupt, and twisted with their own desires. I finally understood. I couldn’t trust the humans who would destroy my heart any more than I could trust the demons who would destroy my body. I couldn’t trust them any more than they would trust me. I felt only outrage toward their entire filthy race, and I forced what little love I had left for them into the very farthest reaches of my mind - reviled, forsaken, forgotten… just as I was in their eyes…
That day I stopped crying. The tears never came again. Let it be known, on that day, the world lost a potentially powerful ally. There is no such thing as ‘friend’…
Converting /tmp/phpGDWzbr to /dev/stdout
A pair of stealthy shadows slipped in through the door, gliding quietly on careful steps to cross the space toward me. I had fallen asleep sometime after I grew tired of mulling over my fate, and now sat with my back against the wall, my head hanging low with my chin to my neckline, resting well for the first time in what must have been eight days. My ears flicked forward as a pace fell a little too loudly on the tatami, and they hesitated a bit at the alert movements of my ears, but I did not wake. Now, when I think about it, I’m disgusted with myself for not waking before they reached me - I must have been pretty damn worn-out not to heed the warning that my senses were giving me. My ears continued to hitch, now quite aware of every step that the intruders made, slowly, frantically pulling me back into consciousness.
Just as I cracked my eyes open, the shadows descended upon me, one cold and clammy hand clamping over my mouth, one seizing my throat, and another pair wrapping around my wrists. My eyes were wide with shock as I struggled against the intruders’ grips. I could see the two clearly in the dark, with great detail, though not much colour. Both were men, middle-aged, glaring down at me and black hair tied up into topknots. One had a face covered in stubble, and the other was missing one eye, a jagged scar down his cheek. Both were muscular. Both were strong. Both were looking for something to kill.
[Fight!] I sank my fangs into the soft flesh of the hand covering my mouth, and twisted my wrists out of capture, raking my razor claws along the other man’s forearms. The men stumbled backward, crying out in pain, blood readily pouring from their wounds. I was on my feet in an instant, fangs and claws bared and set to defend this body that they belonged to, a warning to whomever would challenge them. But the intruders made no move to come at me. One man was favoring the deep gashes on his arms, and the other was bearing a wicked grin across his face, though a good deal of tissue had been torn from his hand, the white of a bone showing through the blood. I growled loudly in my chest. Both men stood and fled out the door. Well, they certainly weren’t up for coming to blows.
Reluctantly, I lowered my claws to my sides, sinking back to the floor. My palms and fingers were sticky with the warm red liquid and my mouth was filled with taste of blood, my nose filled with the scent. I wiped my lips with the back of one hand, dark streaks lining the contradictory light skin, and I simply gazed at the crimson fluid coating my claws. If I hasn’t been so sure that the intruders were looking for a life to eradicate, I wouldn’t have resorted to looking to those claws for help. I hadn’t injured the men beyond superficially. They would heal fast enough, though they might be left with a few scars, but wouldn’t those make for interesting tales to tell the grandchildren. They had attacked me first anyway. I did what I had to. And with the confident thought that I had been right, I closed my eyes.
I woke to furious screaming, outraged and angry shouting past anything that I had heard. Yasume’s voice was there mingled amongst the enraged words, but didn’t seem a part of them. I was curious of the source of the commotion, and slowly got to my feet, heading for the doorway.
Yasume was standing between the entrance to the hut and what I was convinced was a very, very angry mob. “Damn it, Yasume! Get out of the way!” the villagers were screaming at her. “Will it be his vile and pathetic life, your will it be yours!?”
“What has he done to deserve a death by your hands?” Yasume replied, her voice wavering.
“You know very well what!” one man cried furiously. “A man was killed last night! Slaughtered! Butchered! Great, long gashes cut into his chest, his throat slit wide! Two others were wounded trying to protect the old man!” My stomach turned over. I recalled the smell of death upon the intruders’ hands. They had killed that poor man, wished to be injured by my hands… They set up the incident to look as though I had taken the life of one and wounded two. There was still blood on my hands… The villagers though me guilty.
“Look at him!” Yasume shouted in objection. “Could he really be capable of that!? He’s a child…”
“Not your child!” The taijiya woman froze, tears of anger in her eyes. “He will grow into a monster!” the man screamed. “A monster that will kill our animals, plunder our villages, devour our children, rape our women! Will you allow it, Yasume!? Damn the siren that would care for such a beast! The wretch should have been slain in that forest! His filthy head should be upon a mantle! He is not your son, Yasume!”
Yasume slowly nodded, and whispered, “I know.”
“Step aside, Yasume. You cannot redeem your mind of mistakes by caring for the thing within those walls,” the man said softly now, gesturing toward the hut with his head. “It will not bring your boy back.” The taijiya woman bowed her head, reluctantly moving from their path. I couldn’t breathe… His lying words had gotten to her.
I staggered back from the door, my back pressing against the wall farthest from the entrance as the man entered, fear and confusion written plainly on my face. He glared at me, and came closer, and I slipped along the wall, stumbling over a chair, claws searching frantically for an exit I knew did not exist there.
“Did you enjoy the sounds of that man’s wails before he fell dead?” he growled through clenched teeth. I shook my head, finding my back in a corner, the distance between myself and the growing crowd quickly closing. My mind was reeling, passing over he hateful faces. Why did they blame me? How could they blame me? I wanted to scream at them… I’m six years old. I bear wounds that any number of you would perish from. My mother is dead. I have no father. I have no home. For eight days I have been hunted. For eight godforsaken days I have been alone. And yet, here you stand. Here you stand before me as bloodthirsty men and women. Murderers. Angry. Why do you blame me?
I could see Yasume off to one side, hiding in the shadows, a silent plead for forgiveness in her eyes. Her lips formed the words… I’m sorry. I paled as though she had struck me, and I stared at her in a moment of disbelief. She had turned her back on me, this woman who I thought I could trust. No, this wasn’t the woman whose shoulder I had cried on. This wasn’t the woman who had cared for me. This wasn’t the woman who reminded me so much of my mother. I saw nothing of her, but a horrible, disfigured sneer upon her face.
And I was angry.
[Fight!] My claws came up in front of me, swiping at the pole that was swung at me, cutting the steel cleanly in half. A furious growl rose in my throat as the man lurched back in shock, holding the two ends of the staff in bewilderment. The mob leapt ahead, cries of rage leading the way beside the pitchforks, the weapons, the torches, and seething glares. With a powerful push from my legs, a hole exploded into the roof, and I was outside, the Fire Rat kariginu in one clenched fist. Stones and arrows soared up at me. A rock hit me in the face. An arrow stuck in my leg. I felt no pain. There was only fury, burning in my veins like fire.
I hit the ground running, and as I looked back over my shoulder, Yasume rushed from her hut, sorrowful and repentant tears falling down her face. I did not see them.
For hours upon end, I sped through the forest, trying to flee from the voices shrieking, echoing in my head. Curses of death, of hell. I finally staggered to my knees, my chest heaving painfully. My clasped fists shook with anger, my claws cutting into my palms, and I bared my fangs at those hateful faces floating around in my mind. Far too many times, humans had been quicker to blame me than one of their own spineless kind. But that’s the way it is when you’re different. No one cares for you. No one believes you. No one trusts you. You’re always the first to be blamed. And it is always, always your fault.
They didn’t know what it was like to try so hard to protect themselves from judgment, to pretend not to care what people say. They didn’t know what it was like to be mistreated, to be hated. Kill half-breeds at birth, people say. Let them starve, drown them in a sack full of rocks, burn them, behead them… deny them the right to even exist at all. Maybe I wasn’t worth wasting a life on. After all, I was a just filthy half-breed, a plague to society, a strain of cancer, and it didn’t matter if I was the product of love. I had no place in this world.
Humans were no different than the demons they despised - heartless, corrupt, and twisted with their own desires. I finally understood. I couldn’t trust the humans who would destroy my heart any more than I could trust the demons who would destroy my body. I couldn’t trust them any more than they would trust me. I felt only outrage toward their entire filthy race, and I forced what little love I had left for them into the very farthest reaches of my mind - reviled, forsaken, forgotten… just as I was in their eyes…
That day I stopped crying. The tears never came again. Let it be known, on that day, the world lost a potentially powerful ally. There is no such thing as ‘friend’…
Converting /tmp/phpGDWzbr to /dev/stdout