InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Price of Vengeance ❯ Chapter Forty-Four: Healing Wounds ( Chapter 45 )

Disclaimer: I do not own any of Rumiko Takahashi's characters or stories. This story is for private entertainment purposes only.

Chapter Forty-Four (Healing Wounds)

That black cloth had been damn tough. He didn't ever want to have to try and rip through it again. Grumbling about it kept his mind off of what he was doing with his claws. Try as he might, he couldn't figure out a way to undo the unconscious girl's shirt without re-opening her injury. His first, tentative tugs at her clothing had started a fresh trickle out of the wound on her chest. He could smell the fresh sting of her blood, and she had already lost way too much. He wasn't sure just how much blood a ningen woman could lose, but he didn't like the slightly sour tang that accompanied the scent of Sango's.

Impatience had won out, and he had finally resorted to shredding the hard fabric off at the shoulders and sides, peeling off the layers so that Sango was bare of arm. He didn't want to move her too much, so most of the armored kimono was left underneath the curved arch of her spine and resting back. The last piece of her black clothing still covered her breasts and stomach, and he was loathed to remove it.

Sango stirred slightly, one limp, white hand clenching and then falling back into repose.

*Damn.*

No help for it.

Averting his eyes, he whipped the cloth off of her. Or tried to, anyway.

It was stuck to the wound by her dried blood.

*Damn it, anyway.*

He was careful with his claws, not wanting to pierce her fragile white skin by mistake. He peeled the cloth up from her flat stomach, trying to maintain her modesty (and his) for as long as possible. He had never been this close to a woman before.

*What the hell am I thinking? I've seen naked women before.*

A distant memory of Kagome bathing flashed through his mind, and he flushed.

He had never seen Sango naked before, though.

And he had never been right THERE, beside a naked woman.

*A WOUNDED naked woman, you dog!* He snarled at himself.

Damn.

He was distracted by the renewed smell of her blood as he peeled the stiffened fabric off of her wound. There was a lot of it, and he didn't like it.

*What the hell is that smell?*

Even Kirara was wrinkling her small nose, and she made a disgusted noise. He agreed whole-heartily with her.

His eyes SHOULD have gone straight to Sango's wound, but they didn't. Amber widened slightly as his traitorous orbs shot right to where they shouldn't.

*Hell, I'm turning into as much of a hentai as Miroku.*

Sango had some nice breasts. Firm, fleshy, and more than adequate...

He watched in amazement as the rosy buds pebbled under the slight chill of the night air that even the roaring fire couldn't keep out of the hut. Flushing, his eyes darkened into deeper amber.

Kirara mewled, eyes glowing sadness as she extended a small black paw toward the unconscious taijiya.

*Feh. I AM turning into a damn pervert.*

Shifting his gaze, he straightened up and cracked his neck, trying to get his thoughts back in line. He leaned over to pull a wet cloth from the boiling water over the fire and nearly hissed as his fingers touched the scalding liquid.

*That's what you get, hentai!* He growled to himself, immediately licking his fingertips to heal the scald from them. The curative properties of his saliva, gift of his inu father and hanyou blood, immediately took the sting from the minor burns and healed them.

Kirara mewed again, calling him back. This time, he was more careful in handling the damn cloths. Using a dry one, he pulled the boiling cauldron away from the fire, and set it on the edge so that it would remain hot, but not scalding. Using the same cloth, he fished out a disinfected one from the pot and squeezed the extra water from it.

Both cloths were soaked through by now, and he palmed one, and laid the other across Sango's flat stomach. She inhaled slightly from the contact, and he warily eyed her, wondering if she would wake up.

Would she smack him or thank him?

Pushing THAT stupid thought aside, he concentrated on the bloody mess that covered the taijiya's white skin from breast to stomach. He ran through quite a few wet towels sponging the blood away to reveal the original injury.

*Claws.*

Some demon's claw tips had shredded through the knitted armor and hooked into Sango's flesh. It wasn't deep, thank the Fates, but it was jagged and torn. He hoped it didn't require stitching. There was no way he was any good with a bone needle, and he wasn't about to try his bad skill out on a frail ningen girl.

Using one hand, he pressed on the edges of the wound, knowing he needed to clean it out thoroughly. Fresh blood oozed out, and a sluggish green fester that made him want to gag with the stench of it.

*What the hell?*

Kirara hissed on Sango's other side, her red eyes fixed on that nasty crap. Creamy fur fluffed out, and she growled meaningfully.

"Poison?" He blinked. *Damn youkai claws...*

Damn youkai acid.

Growling softly under his breath, he pressed harder on the wound, seeking all of it. Red blood, dark in the orange brightness of the inside of the hut, welled out, taking the festering stuff with it. Sango's breathing grew fast and light, and he could feel her heart speeding up as she stirred under his ministrations and moaned softly.

"Sorry." He muttered under his breath, pressing harder.

It took too damn long, but he finally got it all out. There was still a slight odor of the nasty stuff around the site of her injury, and he didn't like that one bit. Kirara had batted the soiled cloths that lay crumpled beside him right out of the hut and through the bamboo curtain that covered the doorway with one surprisingly powerful swipe of her little paw. It took the gagging nausea away from him, but he still didn't like the fact that Sango still had that bit of rank stench to the cleansed scent of her jagged wound.

What to do now?

It was Kirara, of course, who had the answer.

He almost jerked back as a rough tongue lightly licked the back of his hand.

*What the...*

Kirara's eyes glowed, and then the neko deliberately turned her head and licked Sango's limp hand with significance.

"Huh?"

Kirara sat on her haunches, and just looked at him.

Black brows descending, he looked at her askance. "You want me to LICK her?"

"Mew." Twin tails flicked impatiently against the wooden floor he knelt on beside the taijiya's futon.

"Are you crazy?" He scowled at the cat.

Kirara raised one black paw and deliberately licked the fur, cleaning it.

Leaning back on his heels, InuYasha scowled at the precocious cat and crossed his arms over his red haori. "Why don't YOU lick her."

A rough tongue blew him a raspberry, much to his shock.

Then it dawned on him. Kirara's saliva probably had as much healing powers as his own, but the neko's tongue was rough, like all cats', and it wouldn't be too good on the torn edges of Sango's wound.

Inu tongues, on the other hand, weren't so rough.

*Damn it, anyway.*

Sango let out a faint sigh that turned into a restless moan and faded into a hiss of pained silence.

Damn.

Touching his fangs and licking his (suddenly) dry lips, he couldn't keep his eyes from flicking over Sango's bare breasts.

There was no help for it.

Tentatively placing one clawed hand flat on the defined muscles of Sango's stomach and the other---deliberately---on the smooth shoulder closest to him, he bent to his task...

*~*~*~*~*

There was a harsh growl behind them.

"Katashi."

The grey wolf youkai turned slightly, one brow arched up, a condescending gleam in the yellow gaze. "Koga. I was wondering when you would show up."

Koga sized up the northern clan chief with a jaundiced eye. Crossing his furred arms, he kept his stance casual, but his ice blue eyes glinted, showing he was ready for anything. "What the hell do you want?"

Katashi pierced his mouth in a smirk. "Hmm...Now what DO I want?"

Koga couldn't keep the low rumble out from the back of his throat. "Don't push me, wolf." He warned. He didn't like that damn whelp any more than he trusted him. Katashi's father had been kicked out of the old northern tribe for being an arrogant son of a bitch, and Katashi was too damn much like his father. After the old clan had been decimated by Naraku, Katashi's tribe had been left the strongest, absorbing the old one in its ranks and taking over the northern territories.

Katashi's yellow---the color of dog pee, the sniveling bastard---eyes were looking him over like he was a side of bad meat. Koga's claws twitched. He'd like to rearrange that arrogant youkai's face with his fist. Flicking his blue eyes to Ginta, who looked ready to pounce at any excuse, Koga deliberately loosened his stance. The last damn thing they needed was a dog fight in HIS caverns.

"Well?" He still couldn't keep the impatient snarl from his voice. Kami, he hated northern wolves!

"I was coming by to ask where Naraku is, to see if you had any---ah---luck---in finding him yet." Katashi grinned toothily as he tossed that barb out.

*Gods, I could really smash that grin off his face right now!*

"But then I got a good eye-full of that piece of youkai over there, and I think I just might stay around for a few days and see what's up." Katashi's eyes glinted as he smirked.

*Piece of youkai---he couldn't mean Kagura, could he? Ha! Does he think I care if he tries making a move on her? The witch would claw his eyes out.*

He was suddenly in a REALLY good mood. One of the---few---things he admired about the wind witch was that she could certainly put a foul-mouthed lecher in his place. This might prove fun. Katashi needed taking down a peg or two.

The stupid dog-turd actually blinked in surprise when Koga suddenly grinned at him, blue eyes lighting with devilish anticipation.

He even shrugged nonchalantly. "You can try. She's not marked, and unclaimed."

Ginta was staring at him, his mouth stuck open. The look of hurt in his eyes almost made Koga want to smack the ookami over the back of his fool head. Damn, he was really getting annoyed with how his men were sniveling after that female.

Katashi smirked again. "Try? Heh." The northern youkai flexed his biceps and grinned with sheer conceit---like that stupid posturing would impress HIM. He didn't have to constantly press his prowess on other people and brag about his skills as a clan chief of the eastern tribe like that foul smelling grey-tailed mongrel---HE didn't need to impress anyone.

He just was who he was.

Katashi's dog pee eyes were scanning over the crest of the hill, searching for his lady-love.

Koga smirked. *Good luck.*

He'd need it. That cold witch would eat his heart out and spit it back at him.

*~*~*~*~*

The fire had died down somewhat when he was roused from sleep by a strange sound coming from her futon. Blinking back weariness, he scowled at the taijiya who was causing him so much trouble.

Amber eyes glowing, he watched her for a moment, testing the close air of the hut for any sign of what the problem was.

He didn't like what he smelled. Dried sweat, and...sickness...human sickness...

*Damn.*

The noise came again, and he unfolded himself from his propped position against the wall, where he had slept fitfully through the deepening night. Even in the darkness, he could make out the flicking white tails of Kirara, who was making an odd growling noise of concern. Her red eyes turned to him, glowing like lightened rubies in the shadowed room.

"What is it?" He whispered, his voice harsh.

Kirara made a half-mew of sound, and nosed Sango with worry.

That disturbing noise was there, and he realized suddenly that it was Sango's teeth, chattering with cold.

Cold?

It might be a little chilly, the nights had grown longer and the oak leaves were just starting to turn as the summer waned into autumn. But the slayer shouldn't be THAT affected.

Kneeling beside her unconscious form, he quickly placed a hand on her forehead. The silky texture of her hair seemed dry and brittle, and had settled in sweaty whorls under his palm. Her pale skin felt clammy to the touch, and she shivered under him as if she was neck-deep in snow, not wrapped up in blankets and laid by the embered fire.

Stiffening, a thought crossed his mind that made HIM shiver.

*Battle fever.*

Ningen were prone to it---the fevers that settled into the body after a wound had been received in battle. Fevers and chills that wracked the frail human body with little possibility of a cure. Battle fever killed more ningen AFTER a battle than the actual battle itself.

Damn it, anyway.

He felt suddenly helpless, and hated it. His mother had died of a slight winter cough that had turned into a raging fever. Her small, fragile body had not been able to survive the rigors of sickness, and she had died, leaving him alone.

*ALONE.*

Kikyo's words stabbed through him, and he growled softly. Had she cursed him?

No! He wouldn't bow down to it. Sango deserved better than to die ignominiously from a stupid chilling fever, her strength drained away slowly in weak resistance.

Surging to his feet, he bound out of the hut and grappled with the wood he had stocked there earlier. Dragging back several armloads, he quickly built the dampened fire into roaring life. Red and orange flames licked hungrily at the wood he fed to it, dancing with delight as he tumbled more on so that he could get as much heat out of the damn pit as possible.

Kirara pounced on a pile of blankets stored in a dusty corner, and InuYasha seized them up. He discarded the top one as being too gritty to use, but dragged the others and piled them over Sango, who was still shivering. The fire did its work, the girl's teeth were no longer setting him on edge by chattering. But he could not seem to stop the tremors that wracked her small body.

She had always seemed so strong...

Kirara had curled herself along Sango's side, purring reassurance that the taijiya was beyond understanding. The slayer moved restlessly, slipping her right arm out from under the piled blankets and flexing the fingers. But that small movement seemed to exhaust her, and she seemed to fall in on herself, going limp.

Feeling desperate, InuYasha knelt by her side and felt her forehead. The skin was still clammy and cold to the touch. Damn. Picking up her feeble wrist, he sought the strong heartbeat that usually beat inside the taijiya's body, a reflection of her strong will to live. But the beat was light and thready, quickening and scaring him spitless.

Amber eyes turned desperate on the neko.

"Damn it, Kirara! It's not working!"

Kirara mewed sadly, agreeing with him.

Damn.

What to do now? He had done everything he could...

Kirara huddled against Sango's side, trying to share her small warmth with the chilled taijiya.

Eyes lightening into gold, InuYasha seized on that. His body temperature was higher than Sango's, a demon's blood was fierce, and an inu's normal temperature was greater than a mere ningen's. Struggling out of his haori, he left his white kimono on, the thinner fabric would still transmit his body heat.

Kirara sat up and blinked at him, purring. Twin tails flicked out and she jumped across the girl's prone body to lie on the side closest to the fire, giving him room to lie down beside the taijiya. Pushing aside the piled blankets, InuYasha curled around her, pausing only to check on the original wound, all hentai thoughts dissolved under his fears for the girl's very life.

The wound, at least, seemed to be healing. The curative properties of his saliva were doing their work. But Sango still shivered at the slight air that touched her skin, which goose-bumped under its influence and set her teeth to chattering again.

Carefully covering the wound with its bandage, he used the blue length of silk she wore often as a girdle or shawl to shield her modesty, and draped it over her breasts and stomach. Gently, he pulled her close to him, and wrapped himself around her, making certain that she lay face-up, encircled in his arms. His right arm was already falling into numbness as her weight---however slight---rested against it. Using his left hand, he hauled the multi-piled blankets up over them both and cradled her to him.

They were soon nestled together in a glowing circle of warmth, and Sango's teeth quit chattering. Her body stopped shivering against his, and she seemed to turn into him, falling into exhausted quiet in the protective shield of his arms.

Kirara curled beside them, batting the numbed claws of his right hand and purring. He wrinkled his nose at her, holding the taijiya close, his mind scoffing at the neko's gratefulness even as his body held tight.

*Feh. Whatever.*

*~*~*~*~*

Everything seemed so cold and distant..empty....

She was adrift in a place of encompassing darkness, feeling small and insignificant under that black void of sound and light...alone...all alone...

*Please...*

She hated the weakness that made her murmur that word. She could feel her hand curling, trying to seek something to hold onto...her hand...her arm...her body felt as if it were moving through thick honey...

*Tired, so tired...*

Closing her eyes on the blackness, she sought within...for someone...anyone...to fill the lonely void of her heart...

The voice of her father, his strong words intruding into the emptiness around her, stepped back, momentarily, the tide of darkness...

~I trained you not only so you can continue a tradition. I want you to live strong...~

*Father!* She called out soundlessly, finding no answer. *I am so lonely...*

Alone...

Shivering, she felt the black coldness, the emptiness all the way to her soul.

She felt something coming closer, holding the kernel of warmth she sought.

*Please...*

She had been so cold, and was now warming...the warmth held her close and she snuggled into it...

A ghost flashed across her mind, bringing the face of one she had buried with defeated sadness...

"Kohaku..." She muttered hoarsely, restless in her dreams. A strong hand brushed across her cheek, pushing back the long sweep of her bangs from her forehead. She whimpered slightly, and sought the warmth again...

The ghost of her brother was leaving her, and she must...she must beg his forgiveness...

Her whisper was low and almost silent, her throat closing. She must...must speak to him before he disappeared...

"I'm sorry..." She whispered. The calloused palm was cupping her cheek, the sharper tips of its fingers kept gently away from grazing her skin, and she stirred under it. No...no...she must speak...must explain the choice she had made...why she had made that choice...apologize for it...apologize...

"I'm so sorry...I loved InuYasha more..."

Wet tears formed in her eyes, one sliding down a pale cheek as she fell further into blackness, this time one of comforting unconsciousness...

*~*~*~*~*

There was the thinnest whisper of glowing amber in the half-lidded eyes of the hanyou who lay beside the taijiya, his silver-white head having come to rest in the crook of her shoulder, so that his chin touched the curve of her neck, and his right cheek pressed against hers without bearing down. His hair tangled with hers, silver-white and deepest midnight, and fanned together in whorling tangles across the futon. He had slept, lightly, holding her body tight in his arms.

Had he heard correctly?

No...nobody could ever love a worthless half....

The red brilliance of a neko's eyes warming stilled that lonely thought, and the increased purring of the youkai reassured him as nothing else could have.

Sleep came once more to claim him, and his eyes, warmed with the golden glow of knowledge, closed slowly to hold that knowledge tight within, like a warm shining light in a sea of darkened loneliness.

Twin tails flicked in satisfaction, and the neko curled around, so that her rear paws extended past her bent head, and she smiled, as cats do, secretively to herself, her loud purr of contentment a warm sound in the quiet chill of the lonely night...