InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Tsubaki's Revenge ❯ The Kikyos ( Chapter 19 )

 

Disclaimer: This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied.

 

 

 

Tsubaki's Revenge, Part XIX: Kikyos

 

 

“That's enough for today,” announced Tsubaki. “Kikyo, go take the puppy for a walk.”

 

Inuyasha opened his eyes as the `pull' at the center of his being faded, feeling the release of the paralysis spell. Swallowing against nausea, he shakily pushed himself to a seated position, trying to keep as much weight off of his throbbing hands as possible. Letting his aching head hang, the hanyo heard the approach of the puppet, and tried not to cringe as its hand stroked his clipped hair. “Let's go, Inu,” said the puppet in a bright, cheery voice. “I'm sure you want to go chase some butterflies.”

 

Gods, not again. The whine got out despite his best intentions. “Oh, now don't start that!” said the puppet petulantly, grabbing one of his ears and twisting it. “You know very well, that you love chasing butterflies! And I love watching you chase butterflies! It's a lot better than some of the other things we could do together! Isn't it?”

 

Part of him wanted to jerk away and leap for her throat. But the rage was too weak. His body whimpered as he turned his head in an effort to relieve the pain. Immediately, she released him, petting his head again. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get mad at you. Now let's to chase some butterflies, shall we?”

 

He wanted to snarl defiance at her, but all that came out of his throat was the small yip that was what she wanted to hear, that might keep her from hurting him, this time. “I knew you wanted to,” he heard her voice say happily. “Let's go!”

 

Rising to all fours, Inuyasha followed the puppet, fighting to keep the whimpers of pain locked in his throat as his bleeding fingers howled with every hand-step, as the scars and fresh burns on his back sent aches or sharp stabs with every motion. He wanted—desperately—to just drop and curl up, and refuse to move. But the last time he had done that, the dark priestess had taunted him with giving up, asking him if he was ready to beg to die. Something inside him had dragged him back to his feet, lifted his head, and drawn his lips back in a snarl.

 

It was the only thing left to him. He wasn't going to beg.

 

Ogres couldn't make him beg.

 

His own damned brother couldn't make him beg.

 

No youki-wielding priestess was going to make him beg, either.

 

Even if it didn't matter, any more.

 

Inuyasha hesitated at the edge of the porch, looking down at the steep handful of steps. His imposed `dog' self hated going down steps. He reached down with his hand, but then his `rear' feet shoved him from the porch in a jump. He landed awkwardly on his left hand, wrenching a yelp out of his throat as pain spasmed up his arm. Panting, he held still, waiting for the pain to ease before taking another step forward. Too late, he sensed the puppet coming back, and could not repress the cringe as she touched him.

 

“Stop that,” she told him gently, in Kikyo's voice. Kikyo's scent filled his nose. “You know I can hurt you much worse than this.” Knife-sharp fingernails dug into his neck, and he howled as the poison in those nails seared his nerves. “That's better,” she said, petting his head again, even as he shivered in the aftermath. “Now come along, my love,” she continued, gently tugging on his ear. “I want to watch you play.”

 

He staggered after her, his stomach churning and his eyes blurring as the poison spread. He felt the transition from shadow to sunlight, and felt the ground change from packed dirt to grass and flowers. “There!” said the puppet, pleased excitement in her voice. “See the butterflies?” The hanyo lifted his head, straining to see. A spot of color danced in front of him. A butterfly? Or just illusion? He didn't know. Not that it really mattered. The dog spell seemed to strengthen, and he made no effort to resist. His tail wagged, and then, with a yip, his body reared, balancing precariously on his `hind' legs. His body jumped, trying to bite the speck of color. It jumped again. And barked. And jumped again.

 

She laughed. “You're such a funny dog!”

 

It wasn't Kikyo, he told himself.

 

Tried to tell himself.

 

Kikyo was dead.

 

His body dog-danced and yipped. His vision blurred.

 

What thought was left to him pretended it was just the poison.

 

* * * * *

 

Kikyo opened her eyes slowly, half-afraid of setting off her aching head. The light was dim; she blinked slowly, trying to figure out where she was. The wooden beam of a rafter came into focus, and she became aware of the soft rattle of a bamboo curtain against a doorframe, and an vagrant scent of sun-warmed grass. An insistent throb in her leg joined her aching head and aching shoulder, and she realized that she was hurt. How, she didn't remember.

 

“You're awake, finally. Here, drink this.”

 

She accepted the potion without grimacing more than a little. Plain water followed, satisfying a thirst she hadn't noticed. When the second bowl pulled away, she tongued her upper lip, and then tested her voice by naming the herbs she'd identified in the potion.

 

The rusty chuckle of an older woman responded. “Nice to know that that knock on your head didn't scatter your knowledge, miko-sama. Do you remember your name?”

 

“Kikyo, daughter of Teruo and Chie. From Yasuo's village, on the bank of the Gotama, near the falls, in Edo prefecture.”

 

“Very good, child.” The woman chuckled again. “Now, what can you last remember?”

 

Kikyo found herself hesitating. “I…” What had she been doing? Searching for something, someone—Inuyasha! She gasped, and might have flung herself upwards, save for the hand on her shoulder, and the flick of awareness that trying to sit up at the moment would be a very bad idea. She closed her eyes against sudden tears. “Oh, gods,” she whispered. “How many days has it been? I—I remember: I'm pushing the horse, if I can get to the village before dark, I'll trade horses. It's starting to rain, and I know I should slow down, but I've got to get to him! Then something spooks the horse, and she shies, and, I—I - what happened?”

 

“I fear that I did, miko-sama,” said a male voice. Turning her head carefully, Kikyo looked up. A young monk, head shaved bare, gave her a wry smile. “It's my fault, really, lovely lady,” he said. “I heard your horse approaching at a gallop, and hoped I could get out of the wet more quickly. Shameful—that I, a monk, should be so selfish as to dislike being wet. I fear I over-estimated the distance, and quite startled your horse when I stepped out. She slipped and fell: I feared you had broken your head as well as your leg, but Shika here assured me that there was no break in the skull, only badly rattled brains.” He gathered her hand into his. “I do pray that you'll forgive me for your accident, my lovely Kikyo-sama. I could never forgive myself, had I caused your death. Do say you'll forgive me?”

 

She blinked at him, nonplussed by his words and by his hands on hers. Lovely? “I forgive you, of course, houshi-sama” she whispered. “If I hadn't been so anxious—,” her throat closed as she remembered why she had been forcing the pace. “Please. How-how many days has it been? My friend—he was captured by a dark priestess. I was trying to find him…” Tears filled her eyes and she closed them again.

 

“It's the fourth day since Miyatsu-sama brought you here,” said the old woman. “You were feverish until this morning.”

 

Four days. Kikyo closed her eyes more tightly, against tears. What must Inuyasha think? Would he believe she had abandoned him? Was he even still alive—gods, how many days—six? Seven? “My bags,” she said. “The one with the red robes—please, may I have them?”

 

There was a moment of silence. “Those robes—they're made from fire-rat fur,” said Miyatsu. “Youkai. You did know that, didn't you?”

 

“Of course I know,” Kikyo said. “My friend's mother gave them to him. Now, please.”

 

“Of course, miko-sama,” said the woman. “Miyatsu-sama, please keep her from sitting up.” With a grunt, the woman stood up and walked away. Kikyo felt the monk place her hand gently back on top of her other hand.

 

“Your powers are very strong,” observed the monk after a few moments. “I've heard that there was a miko in the area, who had been given a very powerful jewel to purify.”

 

“The Shikon No Tama,” she admitted. “Yes. It's been destroyed.”

 

“Ah. Good.” She felt his gaze, and realized that the monk was not without considerable powers himself. “Your friend…he's not youkai, is he?”

 

“Of course not.” Kikyo felt a tremor of fear.

 

He sighed. “I wondered when you asked for them—there's a remarkable amount of youki emanating from those robes. Fire rats must be more powerful than I'd realized, if just their fur can give off that much energy.” When she said nothing, he continued. “You said that your friend was captured by a dark priestess?” She very carefully nodded. “You're going to need help, then—you're not going to be able to walk on that leg for at least a month, and I doubt that Shika will let you ride for several days.”

 

Days? “I can't wait that long—he can't wait!” Kikyo clenched her fists. “He already almost died once, because of me—I can't let him die!”

 

“You love him.”

 

She opened her eyes and stared at him. The monk had a rueful expression. “I—yes,” she said after a moment, another tremor of fear whispering through her brain, dreading what would happen when and if the monk learned of Inuyasha's mixed blood.

 

He sighed, and gave her a gallant smile. “Alas, that I found you too late, beautiful miko-sama! However, do not fear for your beloved—I will help you defeat this dark priestess and free him, though—“ his smile disappeared as he grew thoughtful, “I wonder, is this dark priestess beautiful?” She stared at him, startled. He chuckled. “Oh, do not mind my musings, lovely miko-sama—it is but my curse to appreciate all women of beauty. Never fear—you will be reunited with your love, and I promise not to be jealous of him.” He took her hand again, stroking it lightly. “Do say that you will accept my help?”

 

Kikyo stared at the monk, disturbed and worried. She had never encountered a man who so openly admired her appearance, or who was so quick to touch her. His behavior was totally unlike that of any other monk or priest she had ever met. She was afraid of his reaction, when he discovered Inuyasha was only half-human. But she needed help, if she were to have any chance. And the monk was powerful.

 

Hoping that she wasn't making a mistake, she told him yes.

 

* * * * *

 

Tsubaki smiled as she heard the yips and barks change to yelps and whimpers, and an occasional howl. When not under her direct control, the Kikyo puppet's behavior was intentionally erratic, petting or punishing the hanyo with no rhyme or reason. She doubted that even the hanyo could stand up to that long, before either going crazy, or breaking completely and begging for mercy. Either way, at that point, she would be ready to take him back to the village, to humiliate him before the people he had saved, the people who had dared consider helping a hanyo.

 

“M-mistress?”

 

Looking up, she saw Yukuuku at the peeking into to her workroom. She smiled at the tanuki. “Good morning, Yukuuku. You brought the food I asked for?”

 

The black-masked female nodded, gulping. “Y-yes, m-mistress, in the basket.” The edge of a basket appeared as she raised a hand. “I-I-I m-made i-it j-just l-like you o-ordered.”

 

Tsubaki's gaze turned thoughtful as she studied the stammering tanuki. “What are you afraid of, Yukuuku?” she asked.

 

The tanuki started. “N-n-nothing, m-mistress!”

 

She raised her eyebrow. “Please, Yukuuku, do not lie to me.” Tilting her head slightly, she saw that the tanuki was shivering. A howl of pain came from outside: the tanuki flinched. Tsubaki sighed and shook her head. “You do not need to be afraid of me, Yukuuku. You are serving me very well; I am pleased with you.”

 

“Th-thank-you, m-mistress,” stuttered the tanuki. “B-but, th-th-the hanyo…”

 

Tsubuki gave a slight nod. “The hanyo destroyed something of great power, that should have been mine. He deserves his suffering.”

 

The tanuki only looked confused as well as frightened. “I-I-I d-don't understand. Y-you w-were tr-treating him like a-a g-guest, b-b-but now, th-th-that thing, th-th-the w-way it-it h-hurts him—w-why?”

 

“It's a human need, I suppose,” said Tsubaki after a moment of consideration. She leaned back, letting her hands trail down to her thighs. She smiled thinly. “It doesn't satisfy me, just to kill him. Or just to draw all his youki from him. I hate him. I want him to suffer. I want him to be humiliated. I want him to crawl on the ground and beg me for mercy.”

 

“B-but wh-what if h-he breaks f-free?” Yukuuku asked. “He-he'll kill you.”

 

“He won't kill me,” said Tsubaki. “He's broken spells several times, but he's been able neither to attack me or escape. Don't worry about me. He can't hurt me.”

 

“Yes, mistress.” The tanuki seemed to relax somewhat, though her ears were still shivering. “Where—should I leave the basket?”

 

“On the porch, please. And thank-you again.”

 

Yukuuku bowed and left. Tsubaki sighed and looked down at her work, making a grimace. As much power as she had pulled from the hanyo, she still didn't have enough to ensure the permanent youth and beauty she craved. If only she could figure out how to break that seal on his full powers! The seal was weakened, she was certain—it had felt distinctly weaker since his last escape attempt. But nothing she had tried, so far, had seemed to have any effect.

 

Setting aside the sense of frustration, Tsubaki decided to take a break from her work. Standing up and leaving her workroom, she strolled to the porch that faced the grassy clearing where the puppet and Inuyasha were `playing.' Spotting them, the dark priestess stared for a moment. And then she began to laugh. It was perfect! Perfect!

 

She laughed and laughed, holding her ribs.