InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Kimono ❯ Captured ( Chapter 2 )
She had a home before the ruckus. She had lived with her mother and two younger brothers. They had lived a peaceful life, but with many dark secrets festering at the core. Her father, Jiro, was a half-demon. He had married their human mother, Kasumi. So, all three children had a percentage of demon blood in their veins. All three had altered bodily changes due to their parentage. Mizoshi’s fifteen-year brother, Ken, had slightly longer and sharper nails that could be taken for as claws. Her twelve-year old brother, Nibori, had some unsightly fine white streaks through his hair that had to be covered by a cloth cap in public. As for Mizoshi herself, she possessed golden eyes that glittered akin to precious coins. The village was none the wiser when they moved there eight years ago because their father had died. Now, they had been discovered somehow.
So Mizoshi ran. She was the only one that got out of the village. If she returned…they might hurt her. Or kill her. She felt immense guilt about leaving her family to fend for themselves, but she had been closest to the door of the hut and her mother had urged her. She very well could be the last remaining member of her family.
Slowly, a tear inched down her cheek, but as quickly as it sprang free, she wiped it away with the sleeve of her simple aqua blue kimono. She could waste no time for tears. She was sure the scent of her tears would be carried on the predawn winds.
Mizoshi got up and began walking, choosing whichever direction she wished. It didn’t really matter. She was lost, and any path in the forest could mean her doom. One small comfort was that the night was finally yielding to the rays of daylight breaking on the horizon. All was covered in a bluish early morning illumination. As far as Mizoshi knew, her oddly colored eyes had nothing to do with her vision. She sprinted as blindly as a human in the dimness.
She honestly didn’t see the purpose behind it all. If she closed her eyes, the offending difference would be hidden from sight. Perhaps they were the blind ones; closing their eyes to the fact that she was human too. She was not violent. Nor was her family. They had simply wanted what any other wished for: to live.
Grunting, she forced herself to quicken her pace, even though it was beyond her capacity. Her stomach rumbled. Mizoshi needed food, or she would collapse again. Yet, she hadn’t spotted a thing. No berries or fruit. No vegetables. No edible roots. There were just grass and maple leaves all around, and she very well couldn’t hunt. Girls weren’t taught such things. At this rate, she probably couldn’t even manage the task of hauling wood for a cookfire. Mizoshi was strong mentally with a quiet grace about her, but physically, she was rather weak especially in her weakened condition.
She stumbled into a glade and discovered a clear, bubbling stream. Water! She hadn’t had a drink in over a day’s time. She fell on the natural wonder and started shoveling the substance with cupped palms into her parched mouth. The sweetness invigorated her, though there was still the problem of actual food.
Suddenly, the tranquility of the woods was broken by an angry shout and the clash of steel. There was a battle up ahead. Mizoshi automatically dropped to the dirt and drug herself behind a tree trunk. She prayed the two warriors would finish their duel so she could pass through to another settlement. Hopefully, there would be some other village nearby on this route, a place where people could help her. She’d work. She’d work hard as a servant or farmer for her rice. Her mother hadn’t raised lazy, idle children. She wanted to help, and to be accepted, and…
Her thoughts were interrupted when two figures crashed out of the bushes. Two men were fighting each other: each with his own sword. Mizoshi forced herself to go limp and not make a sound, trying desperately not to be seen. Although, she couldn’t stop herself from peeking out of the corner of her treacherous eyes to take in more of the scene around her. One of the men…no….demons were clearly getting the upper hand. The apparent victor was tall with a certain air of magnificence and majesty about him. His eyes were as golden as hers, but they were coupled with a sweeping mane of white hair that resembled frosty shafts of silver moonlight. Indeed, his clothing was white as well, making him appear to shimmer like some sort of grand celestial being. His silken garments were decorated with crimson blossoms around the collar with black leather armor wrapped around his middle tied in place with a yellow sash. Fuchsia lines decorated his handsome face, not to mention a deep violet crescent moon set in the middle of his forehead. He was a pure blooded demon. There was no denying that.
As for the second man, he was plainly a half-demon. Mizoshi watched this half- breed with intense fascination. He was like her. His waving black hair was tangled, and some of the ebony strands had fallen into his eyes. She could not tell what hue his eyes could be save that they were dark and filled with rage. His purple and jet robes billowed about him, as if driven by a supernatural wind. The gold ornaments on his kimono glinted faintly in the wan radiance that preceded the sunrise. He was losing. He didn’t appear to be as strong as the demon in white. Mizoshi heard tales of these occurrences. Most likely, this conflict was part of the eternal war waged between demons and half-demons. For half-demons, neither the demons nor the humans accepted the person in question. She had found that out firsthand. The fray seemed to be a clash of wills, not a struggle betwixt good and evil.
With a finishing blow, the demon in white slammed the demon in black to the ground. The battle over, the demon in white sheathed his lethal sword. “Don’t ever come back looking for me, or I might not let you go so easily next time.” The man in white spoke these words calmly and coolly with hardly a trace of emotion. His luminous eyes scanned the area twice before he strode away. Mizoshi felt truly blessed she had not been discovered.
However, the man lying on the ground was not that fortunate. Mizoshi rushed over to the half-demon and gazed down at him. His skin was pale ivory and his eyes were closed. She wasn’t sure if he was resting, unconscious, or dead. Yet, Mizoshi could see that he was startlingly handsome. The demon in white had been too cruel to classify as such. This wasn’t her affair she knew. She should probably go her way and pretend she had witnessed nothing, but it was not in her habit to leave the wounded by the roadside.
She scampered to the stream and wet her long sleeve, wincing as the iciness soaked into the fabric and touched her skin. Quickly, she ran back to the half-demon. Next, she proceeded to dab at his face, attempting to bring him back to his senses. Still, Mizoshi had no warning when the man’s hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. She gasped in surprise.
Slowly, the man opened his eyes. His blazing red eyes. Mizoshi began to wonder if she had just made the biggest mistake of her life when lavender mist began to rise up around them…