InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Blackout ❯ Kagome's Choice ( Chapter 37 )

Disclaimer: I don’t own Inuyasha or any of the publicly known characters, plot, etc. I’m just renting them from Rumiko Takahashi, Viz, etc. I do own the plot of this story and any original characters I’ve created. I will make no money from this fic; I write for my own enjoyment and the enjoyment of my readers.


Kagome’s Choice


“Please choose.”

With those final words, the two shikigami girls fell silent. As they stared unblinkingly at her, awaiting her decision, Kagome ardently wished for the ability to turn back time. A couple hours ago when the local villagers mentioned two ‘strange glowing lines’ which supposedly appeared in the night sky and landed on the forbidden mountain, she could have convinced her friends that the rumor had such a low chance of being connected to Inuyasha so as to render it not worth pursuing. Of course, at the time she’d been desperate for any sort of lead and had leapt at the chance to investigate a strange rumor. And when she spotted Kikyou’s shinidamachu on the mountain, she’d charged after them without thinking, unwittingly leaving her friends far behind, stuck on the other side of a spiritual barrier. Now she found herself presented with a difficult decision by the dead miko’s shikigami. Her words to a dear friend came back to her. “But you actually had Inuyasha’s life in your hands, and you chose to save him. I like to believe that if I ever have Kikyou’s life in my hands, I’ll do the same.” She snorted dryly. Well, Kouga-kun, it looks like I’ll finally get to see whether I’m as strong and noble as you are.

The decision was not as difficult as she feared. She did not like Kikyou, nor did she appreciate what the undead witch did to Inuyasha, intentionally or no. But she couldn’t see a person in need and not help them. Kikyou wasn’t a monster; she didn’t go around murdering people for fun or ruining lives for the hell of it. Even after her resurrection, she had spent time caring for wounded soldiers and had served as a temporary healer for several villages. In that sense at least, she was a good person. And if Kagome walked away now, she knew it would haunt her for the rest of her days. Still, to say that she was unenthusiastic about rescuing her only rival in love was an understatement. Nevertheless, her conscience won out and she turned to the shikigami, swallowing the unpleasant lump in her throat.

“How do I save her?”

The girls’ eyes widened in surprise, which indicated how shocked they were by her response. The emotional palette of shikigami was naturally limited, so only truly powerful feelings would register in their expressions. Kagome allowed herself a moment of bitter amusement at that thought. They’re as stoic as their mistress, malicious wench that she is. She shook her head, knowing that entertaining negative thoughts like that would make her task infinitely more difficult. As seemingly impossible as it was to focus on Kikyou’s positive aspects, she had to do so in order to have any chance of saving her.

“You need only to touch her,” one of the girls answered.

“That will purify the miasma,” the other added, the ensuing silence hanging heavily in the air. Kagome sensed that something important was being left unsaid, but in her irritation she chose to ignore it. The sooner she finished with this ignominious task, the sooner she could get away from this woman whom Inuyasha loved. Even in sleep, Kikyou’s face seemed to twist in scornful derision as she gazed at it. This was probably a figment of Kagome’s imagination, but it certainly seemed real enough. With any luck, Kikyou would walk away safely today and get eaten by a youkai tomorrow. That would satisfy her reincarnation’s stubborn conscience while also getting rid of the undead witch–the best of both worlds, so to speak.

Again Kagome shook her head, more violently this time. I am not a terrible person. I am not a terrible person. I want…I will save Kikyou. It didn’t matter what she wanted. Saving Kikyou was the right thing to do, both for the stricken miko and for their absent hanyou. What happens if Inuyasha finds out that I had the chance to save Kikyou, and instead let her die? It was that thought which finally prompted Kagome to slip off her socks and loafers and step toward the edge of the pond. She hesitated before dipping her foot into the water, noticing for the first time how polluted the liquid appeared. It looked like someone had been dumping toxic sludge from the modern era into it; this was the sort of water source that three-eyed fish and six-legged frogs came from. It must be Naraku’s miasma, she realized. Kikyou could have been floating in this pond for weeks, the poison slowly leaking into the water as it spread throughout her body. She probably didn’t have much time left. Would it have been so much to ask for the miasma to have consumed Kikyou completely before today?

Kagome clapped her hands together, banishing those thoughts once again and preparing herself for what was to come. Even so, she yelped a bit and pulled her foot back a half second after dipping her toe into the water. The immersion hadn’t been painful, per se, but had definitely produced a significant level of discomfort. Sighing, she steeled her nerves and stepped into the pond. She grimaced in revulsion at the feeling of a foreign presence crawling over the skin of her legs. Luckily, the water only came up to her knees and Kikyou was near the edge. She would save the undead wench and get the hell out of here as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, Naraku’s miasma had other ideas.

Before Kagome realized what was happening, an invisible force reached out and grabbed her hand, which she’d extended toward Kikyou’s chest, and dragged both of them under the water. For such a small pond, it was unfathomably deep. A few meters down the sunlight vanished, blocked out by the miasma overhead. Kagome’s spiritual energy flared around her, providing the only light in this desolate place. Though she could feel the water surrounding her, running into her nose and mouth as a result of her surprise, she felt no panic. Her lungs were barely moving, the sluggish beat of her heart echoing loudly in her ears. A small eternity passed before her circulatory muscles contracted again, and Kagome realized that she was no longer on the normal earthly plane of existence. Through some strange phenomenon, time had slowed to a crawl here. Absently she wondered if she would be able to fight off the miasma if it tried to drown her. The strength of her spiritual energy indicated an affirmative answer, which was perhaps why the lingering essence of Naraku had decided not to attack her in such a manner. Feeling reasonably safe despite the odd situation, Kagome turned to the task at hand.

Kikyou was still unconscious, the miasma continuing to flow from underneath her robes. Pulling apart the garments, Kagome stifled a gasp. As if the wounds from Naraku’s tendrils were not severe enough, the miasma had begun to corrupt her previously unblemished flesh. Thick, veiny rivulets of poison branched out in all directions; there were so many converging on her neck in particular that it was a marvel that her head was still attached to her body. Once more Kagome wondered how Kikyou had survived for so long…and why she hadn’t simply dropped dead weeks ago. Once more she shook her head to clear it, but this time the dark thoughts refused to be banished. Here, immersed in this cesspool of evil, lurked a monster capable of feeding off every doubt, every speck of darkness in her heart. Kagome belatedly wished she had taken the time to truly firm her resolve before stepping into the water, but even that might have made no difference.

The miasma assailed her on all sides, causing her skin to prickle uncomfortably and nausea to roil in her belly. She fought back, but could not prevent the light of her aura from dimming. This was not the first time an outsider had tried to corrupt her heart. She had surrendered to the darkness once already. Would she falter a second time?

Kikyou’s eyes snapped open suddenly, adopting the same cruel and hateful gaze which still haunted Kagome’s memories. Some small element of her consciousness wondered if this was really happening, but that thread of logic could not compete with the overwhelming fear which stabbed through her, spreading a deadly cold through her gut. It was happening all over again, though Inuyasha had promised it never would. Kikyou was attacking her, and she…she was the same frightened little girl she’d always been.

“So, Kagome, this is how you seek to replace me.”

“N-no, Kikyou!” Kagome protested weakly. “I never meant to–”

“Do not lie, you shameless slattern! Do not think that I am ignorant of one truly responsible for Inuyasha’s betrayal. When a pretty girl dresses like a whore, she must be advertising herself as such. And when a pretty whore spreads her legs, what man can resist? You lured him in with your body, then attempted to snare him with the one thing this cursed form of mine can never produce.”

Kagome bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut in a vain attempt to hold back her tears. But as Kikyou continued to berate her, some words stemming from her own memory and others from an unknown source, a new emotion rose within Kagome. Anger. It started as a flash of light behind her eyes, then a needle of warmth in her chest. White hot it burned, scorching her pure heart and leaving it with a layer of dead, burnt flesh. She was not the same person she’d been months ago when Kikyou’s hurtful words had nearly caused her depart from this world forever. The things she’d been through since that day had changed her; she was no longer a frightened little girl, nor would she give in so easily. And when the target of Kikyou’s ridicule switched from her reincarnation to Inuyasha, the love Kagome held in her heart for her beloved hanyou transformed into something dark and venomous.

“You bitch!” she snarled, the hate she had held back for so long bursting forth in an uncontrollable storm of violence. She reared back and threw her closed fist into Kikyou’s chin, hard. The artificial flesh was unsatisfyingly pliable under her knuckles, and the way the unconscious face snapped away and floated lifelessly back up made Kagome want to hit her again.

So she did. “It’s…all…your…fault!” she cried in between swings, unable to articulate what exactly she was blaming Kikyou for. But she knew that whatever it was, the undead witch didn’t just deserve a beating. Kikyou deserved to die. And that was enough of a justification.

The light in this place quickly dimmed even further, though Kagome did not truly notice beyond the passing observation that she was having trouble seeing well enough to land a clean blow. Frustrated, the young miko decided to end this. She grabbed Kikyou by the collar of her robes, spat into the water in the general direction of her face, and flung her away, down into the black depths. Despite her intentions, however, something kept her from releasing her grip on the dead miko’s robes. She cried out as the cloth scraped against her fingers, the momentum of her own attempted throw carrying both of them deeper into the darkness of the pond. Kagome growled to herself, unsure why she hadn’t been able to let Kikyou go. The witch deserved to die, did she not? So why were her hands still clutching Kikyou’s collar so tightly? What was this warm, tingling sensation in her fingers?

The soft, hesitant pulse of a familiar aura roused a part of Kagome which had nearly passed into oblivion. At once she realized what she’d been doing, and how wrong it was. Her aura strengthened as she soothed the child within her, returning some light to this desolate place. It was still far too dim for her liking, and she knew that she stood on tenuous ground. Her conscience still warred with the temptation to be rid of Kikyou once and for all. Her mind still dwelled on how right it had felt to give the witch a taste of what she deserved.

That frightened Kagome more than anything. To her knowledge, she had never experienced the inclination to physically strike someone before. She’d never gotten into a fight at school, bullied her annoying little brother, or even slapped Miroku when he used to grope her occasionally. And yet, she now found it a major challenge to resist falling back into that seductive, violent mentality. Her fingers literally itched to feel Kikyou’s dead tissue give under brute force. Finally she folded them in front of her, though that did not help much. Having her hands together just made her want to wrap them around Kikyou’s no longer perfect neck. Idly she wondered how much pressure it would take to pop her head clean off.

Why did she feel this way? What the hell was the matter with her? It’s this miasma, she realized. She was floating in what was for all intents and purposes the diluted essence of Naraku, whose specialty was messing with people’s emotions. And while she doubted even Naraku could create new feelings within a person, he could surely exploit emotions which were already present. I…I do hate Kikyou. There was no denying that. It had been true when Hakago attempted to corrupt her heart, and it was still true today. On some level, she loathed the dead miko who held the affections of the man she loved. But it had never been powerful enough to make her wish genuine harm upon Kikyou. Until she stepped into this miasma, which had amplified the hate she held deep within her heart exponentially. It was scary how close she’d come to losing to the darkness within herself, and how enticing that prospect still was. It would be so easy…so deliciously satisfying…

Kagome cried out in fear, slapping her cheeks in an effort to regain her senses. Her spiritual energy swelled, pushing back against the oppressive force of the miasma which had begun to drag her down into those inescapable depths. After a while, her aura reached a level of strength where she felt reasonably secure, though the constant pressure of Naraku’s evil continued to wear on her. If she kicked to the surface of the pond now, she could probably escape this living hell without too much trouble. But that would leave unaccomplished the task for which she had stepped into the water in the first place. Kikyou would be doomed to float in these black depths until her body and spirit gave out. She would spend her last moments on Earth in the dreadful embrace of the man she hated above all others. In that sense, Naraku would have the final victory he’d sought for so long.

Kagome couldn’t allow that. She had come here to save Kikyou, and that was what she was going to do. She did, however, decide to try a new approach–taking Kikyou out of the water before healing her wound. But her attempts to pull the unconscious miko toward the surface proved futile. The evil aura of the miasma flared in petulant rage, and all of Kagome’s efforts failed to elevate Kikyou’s body even a centimeter. Clearly, this wasn’t going to work. Naraku’s miasma had spent weeks festering inside and around Kikyou; he was a part of her now. If Kagome was going to break the dark hanyou’s hold and purge away his essence, she would have to do it here, deep in enemy territory.

Steeling her resolve, she pressed her hands to Kikyou’s chest and closed her eyes, focusing her spiritual energy. In response, the miasma exploded with power, nearly throwing her back. She gritted her teeth and intensified her efforts, but it was akin to fighting off a hurricane with an umbrella. Kagome sensed her resolve wavering, and knew that it would soon collapse altogether. Perhaps that was the problem. She was strong enough to purify this miasma; she knew she was. But then, it was not a question of strength, was it? In order to achieve something, a person must possess both the ability and the will. It was painfully obvious which of those qualities she lacked. How could she save Kikyou when she held no true, heartfelt desire to do so? Strip away all of the logic and morality, and what remained was a jealous woman who wanted her rival in love to leave and never return. She could no more save Kikyou than she could forget about their mutual love interest.

Inuyasha’s face flashed before her eyes, causing Kagome’s heart to swell. He was devastated, his eyes cast in shadow and his expression haunted. That’s how he looked when he thought that Kikyou was dead. He searched all night for her, and when he came back, he was a shell of himself. Again, she wondered what Inuyasha would do if he found out that she had refused or failed to save Kikyou when given the chance. How would he look at her, the woman who claimed to love him, and yet who could behave so contradictory to his own desires? Kagome ardently hoped to never learn the answer. When viewed in that light, however, this was less about Kikyou than it was about Inuyasha. Would she respect his feelings and desires, even if they might leave her unfulfilled? Did she love him enough to accept pain herself, rather than selfishly hurting him?

Kagome’s spiritual power surged, turning the tide of the battle. At last she had found her resolve. It’s not my choice. It’s Inuyasha’s choice. I never wanted to choose for him, and I won’t start now! There was still hope, after all. But their future together had to be left up to Inuyasha. If he chose to spend his life with her, she wanted it to be because he loved her, not because his true love had died and he was settling for the next best thing. If the choice was between losing him to Kikyou and a marriage marred by distrust and guilt, then Kagome would let him go. She deserved his whole heart, and he deserved the freedom to decide whether to give it to her. Anything less was an illusion, and could not serve as the basis for a lasting, loving relationship. She would not win Inuyasha through deceit. He would stay for love, or not at all.

Naraku’s essence resisted desperately, but Kagome was not to be deterred. She was no longer doing this for Kikyou, but for Inuyasha. And that made all the difference in the world. With a final defiant pulse, the dark hanyou’s aura yielded to the overwhelming force of her spiritual energy. Pure light exploded in all directions, driving away the blackness and instantly healing Kikyou’s wounds. Every trace of Naraku’s evil vanished from her being, and the surrounding water. But Kagome had no time to revel in her success, as water suddenly and unexpectedly rushed into her open mouth. Whatever strange phenomenon had separated this pond from normal space-time had vanished along with Naraku’s miasma. Now she found herself submerged in cold water, several meters down with hardly any air in her lungs. It seemed surreal that she should die from something as simple as drowning immediately after defeating a great evil, but that was the possibility which now confronted her.

Desperately Kagome kicked toward the surface, the sunlight seemingly kilometers away. Soon her lungs burned, her movements becoming frantic as the last of her air escaped. Too far. It was too far; she would never make it. I’m…I’m going to die like this. Though her mind rebelled at the idea, her vision was already blurring, her consciousness fading away like a candle at the end of its wick. If only she had known this would happen. She could have drawn in a great breath before being pulled underwater. If only the Kami had given her a little more air…if only…if only…

Kagome dimly felt a hand close around her neck, gripping it roughly yet without compressing her windpipe. She was not cognizant of being propelled upwards, against the steady pull of gravity. Her body did, however, react immediately the instant her head rose above the surface of the pond. That tiny breath of fresh air, though limited by the water she had breathed in, was like being born all over again. Her mind came back from the brink just as a profound feeling of weightlessness enveloped her. The next thing Kagome knew, she was underwater again. But this time her backside rested against solid earth, and that one indescribably wonderful sample of lifesaving air had given her the strength to fight for another moment or two.

Fortunately, she did not have far to go. As her head broke the surface, Kagome tried to inhale a massive breath, but her body convulsed, desperate to expel the fluid in her lungs. She turned over and wretched, involuntary tears mingling with swallowed water and the contents of her stomach in the pond beneath her. For several minutes she coughed and sputtered, her thin frame wracked by the tremors of a person brought back from the edge of death. When at last she was able to breathe normally again, she flopped exhaustedly onto her back. She floated bonelessly in the shallows, too physically drained to pull herself onto dry land just yet. And when she felt that she was finally ready to face her ‘savior,’ she cautiously opened her eyes.

There she was, hovering in the air above the center of the pond, supported by her shinidamachu. Her hair was matted and her clothes were soaked, but even so she was beautiful. The only thing which took away from her appearance was the coldness of her expression.

“Why did you save me?” Kikyou demanded, failing to mask her irritation. Kagome responded in kind; she was likewise annoyed, for a variety of reasons.

“Believe me, I didn’t do it for you.”

“Hmph, I see. I likewise did not pull you from your watery grave for your own sake.”

Kagome’s initial interpretation of those words was that Kikyou had saved her for Inuyasha’s sake, because even if the hanyou didn’t love her, he would be devastated by the deaths of her and their child. Then she recalled how the knowledge of her pregnancy had stilled Kikyou’s arrow previously, and realized that a far more likely explanation was that the professional miko refused to stand idly by while an innocent drowned. That made more sense. Again, Kikyou was a good person in some aspects; she was not a monster. She was, however, a vindictive bitch.

“The next time you dive underwater, try holding your breath.”

Kagome saw red at those words. Never mind that she hadn’t expected to be pulled under, or that she wouldn’t have sunk so deep if Kikyou had not caused hate to grow and fester within her. But she had only been underwater in the first place because she’d been trying to save Kikyou’s sorry behind!

Somehow Kagome held her tongue, likely because the dead witch was already floating away, and she realized that she had another decision to make. Namely, whether to tell Kikyou about Inuyasha. On the one hand, Kagome really didn’t feel like sharing any information with this cruel woman. On the other, this was a case where what Kikyou didn’t know really could hurt her. And if that happened, if Hakago was able to kill Kikyou using Inuyasha’s body, what effect would that have on the hanyou’s will to resist? It was a frightening thought. If anything could break Inuyasha, it was hurting someone he loved. At least if Kikyou was aware of the situation, she could take steps to protect herself the next time they met.

“Kikyou, wait!” she cried, half convinced that the dead miko would simply ignore her. Perhaps it was the desperation in her tone, but Kikyou did pause her flight in midair, though she remained facing away from her. Sensing that her time was short, Kagome continued in a soft, slightly trembling voice.

“I should tell you…what happened to Inuyasha.”

Kikyou did turn around at this, her expression one of concern mixed with repressed anger. She floated down to stand on the opposite side of the pond, glaring daggers at her reincarnation the entire time. Kagome gulped, but resisted the urge to break eye contact. She was not a child, and this was not her fault…not really. She would be brave, and take whatever verbal abuse her audience decided to visit upon her.

Upon finishing the tale, Kagome schooled her features and waited for Kikyou’s reaction. To her surprise, the dead miko did not immediately begin yelling at her. Nor did she draw an arrow, call her a ‘whore,’ or assail her with any other poisonous words. Instead she merely stared at her, wearing a glower which softened only slightly over time. It was clear that she was beyond incensed, but perhaps she realized that the rightful target for her ire was not present. Finally she turned and soared off above canopy without a word.

Kagome thought about calling after her, but decided against it. She was confused by Kikyou’s relatively calm demeanor, and didn’t want to risk incurring her wrath. Beyond that, nothing she could say would do any good. She didn’t need to ask Kikyou to try to free Inuyasha from Hakago’s influence; she would do that anyway. As for not dragging him to hell and allowing him to make his own choice in the matter…in the best case, Kikyou would ignore those requests. Otherwise she would deny them outright. Either way, it was a waste of Kagome’s breath to bring up the subject. So instead she let Kikyou go, and at last found herself alone in the clearing.

Only then did she realize how late it was; the sun was already beginning to set below the tree line in the west. A cool breeze blew in, causing her to shiver. Gingerly she climbed out of the pond and seated herself on the bank, her movements stiff with the cold. The air was at a higher temperature than the water, but not by a wide enough margin to warm her soaked skin and dry her waterlogged clothing. By the time her friends found her five or ten minutes later, her teeth were already chattering.

“Kagome!”

“Kagome-chan! What happened?”

“K-K-Kikyou,” she managed to stutter.

“What?! That witch is still alive?!”

In the past, Kagome might have reprimanded Shippou for referring to Kikyou in such a manner, but now she only grinned and patted his head. Or tried to–her hand was shaking too much to respond to her commands with any degree of precision.

“You can explain later, Kagome-chan,” Sango announced in a mothering tone. “Let’s get you dry and warm first.”

“I’ll gather firewood,” Miroku declared.

“N-N-No!” Kagome cried, drawing four surprised gazes. Grimacing, she tried to explain. “F-Fire, yes. Just…n-n-not here.”

Understanding her desire, if not fully comprehending the reasons behind it, her friends helped her settle onto Kirara’s back. The fire-cat flew them a short distance upstream, far enough away so that human ears could not hear the waterfall, but close enough to the stream which fed it to serve as a convenient water source. Miroku had a blazing fire going in record time, aided by Kirara who gathered enough wood to keep it going for at least a week. Then the monk and kitsune respectfully left camp while Sango tended to her. Shippou probably went along to make sure Miroku didn’t peek, not that Kagome thought such a chaperone was necessary. At this point, she didn’t really care who saw her naked, as long they would help her get warm.

Despite her misery, Kagome was oddly amused by Sango’s businesslike yet comforting demeanor. The taijiya sat her next to the fire and removed her wet clothes, then helped her dry off with towels. Finally she bundled her up in layers of warm clothing and blankets. When that didn’t do the trick, she rolled out Kagome’s sleeping bag and tucked her into it, piling the blankets on top. Then Sango made her one of the soups she had brought from the modern era, blowing on each spoonful to cool it before feeding it to Kagome so sure-handedly that not a single drop was spilled. Within an hour, warmed by the broth and her friend’s loving care, the miko had stopped shivering. She still felt cold, but sensed that this had nothing to do with her body’s actual temperature. Great, I’m probably going to get sick now. As disappointing as this thought was, it did not stop her from giving Sango her honest praise.

“Thanks, Sango-chan. You’re going to be a great mom someday.”

The taijiya blushed and looked away, likely because Miroku had returned to camp by that point and was sitting within earshot. Kagome chuckled to herself briefly before her laughter descended into coughing. As the moon rose in the night sky, so did her fever. It did not seem too severe, but she was definitely sick. Probably from ingesting germ-infested pond water. Small standing bodies of water like that were often not very sanitary, even when they weren’t polluted by Naraku’s miasma.

Resolving to make the best of it, Kagome went to sleep early with the hopes of feeling better by morning. She had to recover as quickly as possible. Each delay was another lost opportunity to find Inuyasha. And every day lost made it less likely that she would ever see her beloved hanyou again.

The clock was ticking.

* * *

Hakago chuckled to himself and shook his head. Humans are such pitiful creatures. He stood atop a rise overlooking the burning town, taking in the carnage almost gleefully. The smell of smoke had drawn him here, the great plume rising into the sky serving as a beacon. The scents and sounds of this place were nothing short of wonderful. Women wept as their abductors laughed and cheered, filled with the thrill of conquest. For it could not reasonably be called a battle. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was happening down there. The aggressors were a group of two or three dozen men, likely bandits or unemployed mercenaries, who attacked unsuspecting villages in the countryside. They killed all the men, rounded up the women, stole everything of value and burned the rest. Then they moved on, murdering and pillaging as they went. When they could carry no more loot, they probably hocked their ill-gotten goods at one of the larger cities and drank and whored until their purses were empty. Then the violent cycle would start all over again.

Hakago could admire the general strategy for its simplicity and effectiveness, but he could not understand the mindset. How long did they think this could continue? If some daimyo’s army didn’t annihilate them, then binge drinking or disease certainly would. These men were living a lifestyle devoted to pleasure; it might be nice while it lasted, but it would be unnaturally short. There was a reason mercenaries seldom died of old age. Still, given the choice of dirt farming in some poor village or doing what they were doing, Hakago supposed he could understand their choice. There was something to be said for living for the present moment, after all. It was not how he had chosen to live, but he could understand it. He also understood who these men were, courtesy of Inuyasha’s memories. Humans who preyed upon other humans were criminals; they were not soldiers, nor would they fight like soldiers. And fortunately for them, Hakago did not share the same sense of morality as the previous owner of this hanyou body. He did, however, wonder if the motley group of bandits might serve as a source of entertainment.

He strode down toward the town, amused that no one even spotted him until he had already passed the first row of burning huts. Even then, only a few turned their swords on him, demanding that he stop and surrender his weapon. The rest continued on with their sport, unaware of the outsider in their midst. Hakago did as he was told, freezing in his tracks and tossing Tetsusaiga to the ground. He wouldn’t need the sword to deal with this rabble. Finally a man who was taller and wearing better-quality armour than the rest arrived on the scene, glaring at the newcomer as if holding him personally responsible for interrupting his fun.

“Who the fuck are you?” the man snapped. “A youkai? What are you doing here and why shouldn’t I just kill you where you stand?”

“Oh, you should,” Hakago replied venomously. “You definitely should. But you won’t be able to.”

The leader snorted, then nodded meaningfully, and three of his lackeys closed in with swords raised. Hakago smirked, then launched himself forward in the blink of an eye. He sensed that Inuyasha would stop him in the last instant before tearing his claws through the face of one of his attackers, so instead he folded his fingers into a fist. The hanyou’s resistance made it feel like punching someone underwater, but the man’s head snapped back, his nose probably broken. Inuyasha abhorred the taking of human life, but he held no love for these predators. If he were in control of his own body, he would probably beat the bandits up himself. Therefore, he was unable to prevent Hakago from doing the same.

All things considered, Hakago went easy on the pitiful humans, even as more of them joined the fray. A few were knocked unconscious, others would fall asleep that evening with crooked noses or missing teeth, but all would live. And more importantly, all would be able to fight. That was crucial for Hakago’s plans. When all those brave enough to attack him had finally been dispatched, he turned to face the leader, who now appeared decidedly less smug than before.

“W-What do you want?”

Hakago grinned at the man’s wavering false bravado, but decided to take a peaceful approach. He didn’t need to kill the leader of this group…yet.

“What is your name, Leader-sama?” he asked without any hint of mocking in his tone.

“I am Masato,” the leader answered, seemingly recovering some of his confidence. “Masato the Manslayer.”

Hakago almost laughed at the ridiculous nickname as well as the arrogant way in which it was delivered, as though the very mention of ‘Masato the Manslayer’ should have him pissing in his hakama. In reality, the idiot had probably made the name up to sound tougher than he actually was. But being the best fighter among this motley crew didn’t mean very much, and Hakago doubted that Masato was anything more than a common criminal. He did, however, hold the loyalty of the men under his command, so Hakago determined to play nice. At least for now.

“Greetings, Masato-san. I am Hakago. I believe we share similar…interests.”

“The only interest I have is in you turning around and going back to wherever the hell you came from.” Approving shouts and cheers from his men seemed to galvanize Masato even further, and Hakago began to wonder if another beating would be necessary to bring the bandits to heel.

“That would be a waste of our potential,” he replied calmly. “Tell me, has there been a recent opportunity which your group was unable to take advantage of?”

“No! We conquer all that we mean to!” Masato answered quickly. Too quickly. For behind him, the murmuring began. Hakago waited patiently until one of the men spoke up.

“Well…there was that one castle…”

“Shut up!” Masato ordered, but it was too late. The seed had been planted; all it needed was a little care to germinate.

“A castle you could not ‘conquer,’ I assume?” Hakago asked.

“It had a hundred soldiers defending it!” one of the men exclaimed.

“A hundred fifty,” Masato countered. “Why the hell does it matter?”

“What would you say if I told you that I could deliver that castle to you?” Hakago proposed.

“I’d say you’re full of shit.”

“Am I? Allow me the chance to prove it. I will capture the castle by myself, then turn it over to you. If I fail, you can walk away and the defenders will never be the wiser. What do you say?”

Masato looked like he wanted to say something involving the words ‘fuck’ and ‘off,’ but the increased murmuring from his men stilled his tongue. The greedy bandits were already enamored by the prospect of capturing the one that got away, especially since ‘the one’ was apparently a wealthy castle. Now a powerful youkai was offering to put them in possession of all those riches, at no personal risk to them? They would be fools to refuse. And if their leader tried to deny them that opportunity, then there might very well be a mutiny. A fact which Masato understood well.

“Fine!” he snapped. “You will capture the castle on your own, and then turn every item of value over to us. If I’m feeling generous, I may give you a share of the loot.”

Hakago nodded his agreement to the terms, suppressing a smirk as a cheer went up, the bandits rejoicing at the prospect of pillaging a wealthy castle rather than piss-poor farming villages. Masato harrumphed and stormed off, followed by his closest lackeys. Truthfully, Hakago didn’t care about the loot; he simply desired entertainment. And speaking of, he spied another opportunity for entertainment a few minutes later as the bandits returned to their previous pursuits. They forced the village women into serving them sake, but mostly it was just an excuse to get drunk, grope and make suggestive comments. Finally one of the women smashed an entire jug over the head of an especially obnoxious bandit. Perhaps she was defending a friend or relative, or her temper had simply snapped, but either way the prospects did not look good for her. When the two closest men made a grab for her, however, she kicked one in the groin with testicle-shattering force and literally tried to claw out the eyes of the other. Then she dodged a few more half-hearted attempts and bolted, making a bee-line for the nearby forest.

“After her!” Masato ordered, and some of his less-inebriated men moved to comply.

“Wait!” Hakago exclaimed, moving to block their path. “Please, allow me.”

Most of the bandits shrugged and returned to their drinking. There were plenty of more docile women remaining, after all. Masato folded his arms and glared at him expectantly.

“Well, are you gonna go or not?”

Hakago adopted his most feral grin. “I’ll give her a nice head start. The hunt is more enjoyable that way.”

Masato shrunk back in fear, then hurried off with his tail between his legs. Hakago turned and watched his quarry until she vanished into the trees. Heh, she runs pretty fast for a human. This would be fun; he’d never hunted such feisty prey before. If she gave him good sport, then perhaps he’d let her go. If not, he’d drag her back to the village and see what ‘Masato the Manslayer’ wanted to do with her. He didn’t really care either way; the woman was nothing to him. None of them were. It was true that they had no cause to fear lustful advances from him, but that was only because he was a child at heart. They should fear him for other reasons. I can’t hurt you, girl, but you don’t know that. Run, my prey. Run as fast as you can.

Oh, yes, this would be most entertaining.


A/N – Well, my dear readers, you can now check off something which should be on every Inuyasha fan’s bucket list: read a story where Kagome punches Kikyou in the face. Even people who don’t hate Kikyou can get on board with that! In the right context, of course.

I know that the timeline is a little different from canon here. The miasma has been festering in that pond for a lot longer than it did in the manga, which is part of the reason why Kagome has a much more difficult time saving Kikyou. The other reason is Kagome’s emotional state. In the manga, she didn’t even really consider the option of not saving Kikyou until after she’d already done so. That was obviously not the case in this story, and under the circumstances I can’t really say that I blame her.