InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Metamorphosis ❯ Blood ( Chapter 17 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: King Baka 
Two more sides of the story converge to a stunning climax.
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Suspense / Romance / Hentai / Adventure | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 02.10.2009 | Updated On: 01.02.2011 | Pages: 6 | Words: 10.5K | Visits: 3.7K | Status: Completed
Two more sides of the story converge to a stunning climax.
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Suspense / Romance / Hentai / Adventure | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 02.10.2009 | Updated On: 01.02.2011 | Pages: 6 | Words: 10.5K | Visits: 3.7K | Status: Completed
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.
Fanfiction of the Week: “Of Strings and Kevlar,” by Selina MacCloveror
This is the first unfinished story I’ve recommended, and Selina doesn’t update regularly, but it’s so good. If you liked “Big League Affair,” you will like this one too.
Karaumea: Welcome to the party! It’s always nice to get new reviewers in addition to the people who review repeatedly. Thanks for your comments about the Rebirth spell. Like so many things in this story, it came to me as I was writing the chapter. And you’re right; I know I’m a good writer. I hope I don’t come off as arrogant, but I guess I am a little bit. But I know there are so many great fanfiction writers out there, and many who are better than me. It’s sometimes hard to believe that I’ve only been doing this for about half a year. I’m still a newbie!
wbk: Thanks for the comments. The differences in Inuyasha and Kagome’s behavior can probably be attributed to a combination of all the factors you mentioned. Their present situation is the same, but their pasts are literally worlds apart (hmm…I might have to use that line in a future chapter). Anyway, thank you for your praise of my writing style. I find my best scenes are the ones that just flow out of me. And I do try to inject some humor wherever appropriate.
Blood
Shippou was bored, just plain bored. After he and Inuyasha made their escape from the “hypersensitive bitch zone,” as the hanyou had so eloquently put it, he settled down on the rooftop with his art supplies. Coloring was fun for all of ten minutes, but then he set his crayons aside with a heavy sigh. He just wasn’t in an artistic mood today. Glancing at Inuyasha, he saw that the hanyou was dozing, and would be even less fun than he normally was. Kagome hadn’t come outside yet, so she and Sango were probably still talking. With nothing else to do, he crawled over to the edge of the rooftop to see what he could see.
He groaned; the sights that greeted him only increased his boredom. Just a bunch of normal humans going about their daily business. The only thing that was mildly interesting was Miroku giving palm readings to a group of single women on the far side of the village. But that was nothing unusual either, and Shippou rolled lazily over to the other side of the roof to get a different view. Instantly he perked up, his eyes widening as he spotted a girl kneeling in a field about a hundred yards away. A very pretty girl at that. She was picking flowers, her long mahogany hair swaying gently behind her. She reminded him of Rin; she looked to be about the same age, and the style of her kimono was the same, though hers was an off-white with pink highlights here and there. He caught himself staring and tore his gaze away, glad that no one was around—or awake—to witness his enchantment.
Yet, his eyes seemed to have a mind of their own, as they soon settled on the girl again despite his mind’s feeble protests. What was it about girls, anyway? Why did he feel compelled to look at them, talk to them, become friends with them? It had started with Satsuki and her stone flower, and since then he found himself compelled to seek out the company of pretty girls at many of the villages they stopped at. He usually did so in secret to avoid the teasing Inuyasha and the others would lay on him, whether they meant well or not. He still didn’t understand why they made such a fuss about the first time he “fell in love.” Did he fall in love with Satsuki? Probably not, but he had certainly liked her. And from his understanding, his attraction to girls was nothing unusual, just a sign of him growing up. Maybe the more you liked girls the more grown up you were? If so, then Miroku was the most mature man he ever met. That didn’t explain why the monk couldn’t get a woman to bear his child, though.
Trying to figure out adults made Shippou’s head hurt. On paper, things appeared so simple. When they were old enough, men and women fell in love, got married or mated, and did something together that nobody had told him about yet. (1) Whatever it was, it must be something really good or really bad for the adults to keep secret. And somehow, he knew that mysterious something was a large part of the reason why the relationships of his friends were so strained at times. He thanked his lucky stars that he wasn’t grown up yet, and that he didn’t have to worry about any of that stuff yet. After all, he hadn’t liked girls for very long. When he was younger, living with his kitsune family, most of his playmates were boys his own age. Girls were sissies, too wimpy to play with the boys, and to be avoided at all costs lest they rope you into playing some girly game with them. But now…
Now he had to go talk to this girl or he was going to go crazy! Kagome’s warning rang in his head, but he ignored it, telling himself that he would stay in sight of the inn. He leapt down from the roof, scurrying across the open ground excitedly. He slowed as he approached her; he didn’t want to seem too excited, after all. She was so engrossed in selecting the choicest flowers that she didn’t notice him. He took the chance to study her face, deciding she was even prettier up close.
“Whatcha doin’?” he asked, causing the girl to jump slightly.
“Picking flowers,” she answered kindly, though Shippou could have banged his head against a wall for the foolishness of his question. Smooth Shippou, real smooth.
“Um, what for?”
“Oh, they’re for my Okaa-san. She’s sick, and I thought they might make her feel better. I don’t recognize your voice. Are you from…around…here?” The girl trailed off, having finally raised her head to look at whoever she was speaking to, only to see nothing but blue sky with the village in the background.
“Down here,” Shippou said, a little peeved by his short stature. The reaction he received was the last thing he expected. When the girl looked down, her eyes widened in horror and she screeched before falling on her backside and backing hastily away from him. The flowers were flung up into the air in her fright, brightly colored petals scattered by the wind. Shippou could only stare dumbfounded at the child before him, quivering in fear. She looked like she wanted to run away, but her legs were frozen in terror.
“Please,” she begged, “d-don’t hurt me.”
By this point, Shippou’s chin was nigh touching the ground, and he almost had to close his mouth by hand so he could speak.
“I’m not gonna hurt you,” he soothed, taking a step toward her. But she only whimpered, scooting back another step to maintain the distance between them. She shook her head violently, clearly not believing him.
“J-just leave me alone! Please don’t eat me!”
That comment was the last straw for Shippou, as his temper at what this girl was accusing him of finally boiled over.
“I’m not gonna eat you, stupid wench!”
Apparently yelling had been the wrong strategy, for the girl curled into a ball, squeezing her eyes shut as a few tears escaped them. Shippou took a deep breath, mentally berating himself. Great, baka, now she’s even more afraid of you! And did I just call her a wench? Inuyasha would be proud.
“Look, I’m sorry I yelled at you, but I’m really not gonna hurt you. I don’t eat humans,” he said in disgust, the idea sickening him to the core. Slowly, the girl removed her hands from her face, and dared a peak at him.
“B-but you’re a y-youkai. My Otou-san said all youkai are bad.”
“Well, you’re Otou-san is wrong. Do I look like a bad youkai?”
The girl raked her eyes over his small frame, perhaps truly seeing him for the first time. “You look like a kid,” she said, frowning.
“I am a kid!”
Just as it appeared he had finally gotten through to her, another thought struck her and she shrank back. “B-but youkai are tricksters! You could be a big hulking ogre in disguise!”
“Oh, for the love of—all youkai aren’t tricksters either! I am…” Seeing her cringe at this revelation, he hastily added, “but this is my true form, I promise! I’m a kitsune, and I can do magic, but it’s all illusion.”
The girl seemed to digest this information, seeing the truth and genuine concern in his eyes. Finally, she sat up and faced him, drying her tears with a delicate hand.
“So…you’re really not gonna hurt me?”
“I don’t hurt girls,” he replied smugly, crossing his arms over his chest, still a bit annoyed with the whole situation.
“What kind of tricks can you do?” she asked suddenly, utilizing the quintessential children’s power to change focus in the blink of an eye. Finally, we’re getting somewhere! And as he gazed at her, her eyes puffy from crying but filled with youthful brightness, he couldn’t help but remember why he came over here in the first place. She was very pretty. He looked away, his cheeks heating as he stammered out a reply, trying to sound more confident than he actually was.
“L-lots of them! You know…I can multiply, or use a giant spinning top, and I can even change into a big, scary youkai!” He regretted that last part, fearing he had taken his boasting too far, but her reply nearly dropped his chin to the dirt again.
“Can I see?”
With her hands folded in front of her, and that pleading look on her face, Shippou found he couldn’t deny her even if he wanted to. Crap, this isn’t good. I don’t even know her name yet and I already like her!
“Promise you won’t get scared?”
She shook her head in the negative, and the ghost of a smile on her lips let him know that she trusted him not to hurt her. Without further ado, he popped into his large, pink balloon form. It was the same form he used to scare off the kids beating up Satsuki, but this time he tried to appear as unintimidating as possible. Apparently it worked, because the girl before him definitely didn’t appear frightened. Shippou transformed back into his kitsune form, shoulders slumping in disappointment as he gaped at her. This was not the reaction he had hoped for. She was supposed to be looking at him with awe, not giggling behind her hand!
“What’s so funny?” he grumped petulantly. It took her a moment to get her mirth under control.
“That wasn’t scary! That was…cute!”
Shippou’s eyebrow twitched. If there was one thing he hated, it was someone making fun of his kitsune abilities. A good storm-off was in order, and he turned to do just that.
“Wait!” the girl cried before running around and placing herself in front of him again. “I’m sorry I laughed! I’m really glad you’re not a scary youkai.”
Shippou tried to stay angry, he really did, but found it impossible. Ah, crap…I must really like her. And I still don’t know her name! He opened his mouth to ask her but she spoke up first.
“Aww…I lost all my flowers. Wanna help me pick some more?”
“Sure,” he replied automatically, not caring in the least that picking flowers was ‘girly.’
“My Okaa-san’s favorites are these little yellow ones that look like this,” she said, picking one up and showing it to him. It quickly became clear that the yellow flowers were difficult to find, but Shippou wasn’t so much looking for them as he was gathering the pieces of his scattered courage.
“What’s your name?” he finally asked.
“Tamiko. What’s yours?”
“S-Shippou.”
“Well, S-Shippou, it’s nice to meet you. I’ve never met a good youkai before. Do you have a family?”
“Well no, but—”
“You must be pretty strong to live out there by yourself.”
“Well, I used to live alone in the woods,” he said, puffing up his chest. “You know, finding my own food, chasing off youkai, just typical kitsune stuff. Now I travel with some humans and hanyou, plus another youkai. I look out for them so they don’t get themselves killed.”
“Wow, that’s really brave.”
Shippou blushed under the praise, but decided a little exaggeration couldn’t hurt, unless of course Inuyasha found out about it. The last thing he wanted was to end up getting thumped in front of Tamiko. Tamiko…what a pretty name…
“I think we picked all my Okaa-san’s favorite flowers in this field. Come on, I know of another one!” Tamiko beckoned him to follow, but Shippou hesitated, remembering that Kagome had told him not to wander. He debated with himself, but was strongly leaning toward going with Tamiko.
“Come on, Shippou!”
That did it, as he scampered to catch up with her. Eh, what’s the worst that could happen?
They picked flowers and played games for the rest of the afternoon, and Shippou even got to show off some more of his illusions. Tamiko enjoyed riding on his wooden horse, but her favorite trick was his “big pink blob” form. He didn’t even mind when she laughed and called him cute; making her happy was enough of a reward. And just as he was thinking that he was completely smitten with this girl, her fear returned full-force as she stared at something behind him. Before he could turn around, he felt a blow to the back of his head, and then nothing.
“Oh, Houshi-sama! Surely you jest!”
Miroku sighed. Why do they all think I’m joking? Evidently, these women had never met a monk like him before. They probably only had contact with ‘true men of the cloth.’ He snorted. As if there was such a thing. As far as he was concerned, all men had urges; it was just a matter of how good you were at repressing those carnal desires. And how good or bad you were, or whether you even tried to repress your urges in the first place, had nothing to do with how powerful of a monk you were.
That hadn’t stopped him from staying up all last night praying. Even in the morning, when the damsels were out and about, he had no trouble suppressing his mild inclination to go womanize. If Sango was no longer in this world, what was the point? He had settled on the woman he wanted to spend his life with, and she was the only one he wanted to bear his children.
That, of course, begged the question of why he was out here asking pretty girls to lie with him. He reflected that it probably boiled down to having fun. After being gripped by heart-wrenching anxiety for almost a full day, he figured he deserved it. He liked flirting, and was very good at it. He liked eliciting gasps of shock and excitement from blushing beauties. He liked pushing society’s boundaries and playing the role of the charming rogue, the charismatic scoundrel. Hell, he even enjoyed the jealous glares he often received from the significant others. It was fun. And it was harmless. In his time with Inuyasha and the others, he had been stuck on one hell of a dry streak. With a few exceptions, no woman was willing to bear his child. Except Sango, of course, and that had to wait until after Naraku was defeated. He sometimes wondered what he would do if another woman actually accepted his proposal, but had no answer as of yet. It would probably never happen, so there wasn’t much point in dwelling on it.
He read palms for a little while longer before the crowd started to disperse. Truth be told, he didn’t know a thing about palm reading. But he liked to think that what he was doing gave people hope. Maybe if they thought they would live happy lives, they would try a little harder to make it so. Either way, he certainly wasn’t hurting anybody.
“Excuse me, houshi-sama.”
Looking up, Miroku spied the speaker standing in front of him, a tall, well-built man in his thirties. His voice and demeanor exuded authority, and Miroku reasoned that this must be a man of high standing in the village.
“Yes?”
“I am in need of your services. My daughter has been possessed by a youkai. If you drive it out, you shall have free room and board for the night, a hearty meal, and as much sake as you can drink.”
Miroku smiled; that was a very nice offer, indeed. The sake especially sounded heavenly. But his face fell as he realized that he might not be able to enjoy it after all.
“You are aware that I travel with two hanyou and two youkai? If you cannot provide for them as well, then I shall be unable to accept your offer.” Miroku hoped any prejudice the man had toward youkai could be overcome in light of his daughter’s health. If he refused, Miroku would go help the girl anyway; it was his duty as a monk. But this villager didn’t need to know that. His uneasy expression revealed his discomfort with the extra guests, but he reluctantly assented.
“Well, I suppose they haven’t caused any trouble so far…”
“Excellent! Your daughter is as good as cured! Lead the way, good sir.” He followed the man toward the center of the village, and into a very large, ritzy house. Servants could be seen doing various jobs on the grounds, and it appeared his initial impression about the man had been correct.
“Here is my daughter, Chiyoko,” he said, leading Miroku into a secluded room. Immediately the hairs on the back of the monk’s neck stood on end; there was a discernable youkai aura coming from somewhere in the room.
“I will need privacy,” he told the father, who shot him a harsh look. He had seen the wayward monk flirting with all the village girls while giving ‘palm readings,’ and wasn’t stupid. He didn’t need to voice his warning for Miroku to receive it loud and clear. Miroku breathed a sigh of relief as the overbearing man departed. Honestly, as if I would do anything inappropriate while she is unconscious. Maybe when she wakes up…
The youkai was fairly easy to dispatch once he got down to business. A loud hiss sounded as he approached the girl, so he instantly knew what he was dealing with. A snake youkai, invisible to the untrained eye, had snuck inside the house and coiled itself around the girl’s body, slowly feeding off her blood. It was a relationship that could have gone on forever; the youkai was only taking what the girl could afford to give. If her caretakers kept feeding her, the girl would continue to produce blood, and it would have been many years before the youkai released its hold. But such parasitic youkai were never very strong, and this one was no exception. A sutra and a swipe of his staff was all it took.
“Ugh,” Chiyoko groaned as she stirred. And for the first time, he noticed how beautiful this girl—woman—was. She looked to be about Kagome’s age, and her sleeping kimono revealed a well-proportioned figure that would make any man salivate. She opened her eyes, a deep sapphire hue, and blinked up at him in obvious confusion.
“Who are you?” she asked with a dangerous glint in her eye. “Did my father try to marry me off to some loser again?”
Miroku sweatdropped; apparently, this wasn’t your typical Japanese girl. She wasn’t the typical wealthy man’s daughter either, content with an arranged matrimony to strengthen a relationship with another well-to-do family. She had some spunk in her, and he already knew he liked that in a woman.
“No, no, I am but a humble monk. You were possessed by a youkai, and I exorcised it.”
“Oh,” Chiyoko said sheepishly, “I’m sorry.”
“Think nothing of it, my dear.”
“Do you have a name, Houshi-sama?”
“Forgive me, Chiyoko-sama, it is Miroku.”
“Well, Miroku-kun, thank you very much for saving me.”
Miroku’s eyes widened slightly. She’s calling me “-kun” already? The Kami are trying to tempt me. (2) He became further convinced of that fact when the temptress before him raised her arms over her head and stretched languidly. Her chest pushed forward, the folds of her kimono separating just enough to reveal a tantalizing view of her cleavage. She rolled on her side, rubbing one fist against her eye in one of the most adorable gestures Miroku had ever seen. If he didn’t know any better, he would swear that she was flirting with him on purpose.
“Thank you again, Miroku-kun. I wish there was some way I could express my gratitude properly…” Well, the monk thought, so much for knowing any better. That scintillating smirk she wore could only mean one thing, and the man in him was, quite literally, standing at full attention. And whatever objections the moral, loyal side of him could conjure up were outweighed by habit and a long-deprived libido. Reaching down, he grasped both her hands in his own while peering deep into her gorgeous eyes.
“Would you bear my child?”
“Yes. Yes, I will.”
Miroku knew what her body language was telling him, but still found himself utterly flabbergasted by her response. What surprised him the most was that her answer didn’t make him feel elated. Far from it actually; he felt positively rotten. What was this feeling, this dirty sensation? Was it…guilt? Chiyoko’s father chose that moment to reenter the room, forestalling any further thought on the matter.
“Chiyoko, my darling daughter! You’re awake!” The two shared an embrace, and Miroku began to back away, hoping for a silent exit. Perhaps Chiyoko would forget about this whole bearing his child thing.
Or perhaps not. Just before he made his escape, she glared at him over her father’s shoulder, that lustful look in her eye piercing straight through his heart. Her delicate tongue snaking out and sensually wetting her lips went straight to another part of him. Never had he been more grateful for baggy robes. Yet, his body’s reaction to her just made him feel even more like a colossal jackass. He swiftly retreated from the house, finding a peaceful spot outside to meditate, hopefully to shed some light on his strange emotions.
Did he want to sleep with this girl? That seemed to be the most elementary question, but it shocked him deeply to discover that the answer was just as obvious. No. No, he did not. His body wanted to pound into her all night long, and his ears desired to hear her throaty moans and pleasured cries, but his mind and heart were sickened by the idea. Even if they could be together with one hundred percent certainty that she would not get pregnant, that it would just be a one-night stand with no strings attached, he still didn’t want to spend the night with her. But why? Why was he going against his urges as a man and relinquishing a goal that had been central to his life for years? Why was he wasting such an opportunity? He only needed one word to answer all these questions—Sango. He had chosen Sango the day he proposed to her, perhaps before. Unwilling to abandon his lecherous ways, he had continued to behave toward women as he always had. But there was no doubt in his mind now that asking any other woman to bear his children was a futile gesture. He cared too much about her to go through with it, to betray his lovely Sango. The revelation filled him with warmth, and his guilt finally vanished. All was right with the universe again. He was not going to lose Sango due to his own foolishness.
Standing and dusting himself off, he went to retrieve the others. No doubt they would be glad to get out of that stuffy inn, especially with the promise of a good meal and warm beds waiting for them. And at least Inuyasha would partake in the sake with him. Miroku smirked. The dope would probably end up drinking too much, because ‘hanyou don’t get drunk.’ And in the morning, he would deny his hangover and all the stupid things he had done while intoxicated. Yes, it was going to be fun night.
And it was, up to a point. The food was delicious, and the drinking was about to commence when the door to their room slid open, revealing a sight that put a sinking feeling in Miroku’s stomach. It was Chiyoko, leaning sensuously against the doorframe, her face sporting an alluring ‘come hither’ look. He sighed inwardly, knowing what he had to do and hoping she would take it well. He rose to his feet and strode out the door, not needing to look back to know that Sango was incensed. Hopefully she would understand when he returned in a few minutes, and not hours. Perhaps if he had looked back, he would have seen that instead of anger, the taijiya’s expression reflected only sadness.
He followed Chiyoko down the hallway and into another room, this one smaller with a single, large futon located in the middle. There was no doubt what she was planning to do on said futon, as she spun around and moved to kiss him. He placed his hands gently but firmly on her shoulders, causing her to look at him in confusion and irritation.
“Chiyoko-sama…we need to talk.”
“Don’t wanna talk,” she breathed, leaning forward, but again he held her back. Huffing, she withdrew a couple steps and crossed her arms over her chest. “What is it?”
“I-I can’t do this.”
“Why not? You know you want to,” she drolled, tracing a delicate finger along his cheekbone down to his lower lip, playfully flicking it. He shook her off, though his horny body forcefully berated him for it. If my penis could talk…
“Chiyoko-sama…I just can’t. I am already promised to someone.”
The girl’s face fell, and Miroku’s heart went out to her. Is there a bigger bastard in this entire world than me?
“One of the women you travel with?” she asked despondently.
“Yes. I’m sorry, Chiyoko-sama. I didn’t mean to hurt yo—”
“Oh, yeah? Then why the hell did you ask me to bear your child in the first place?!” Her sudden fury took him by surprise, and it took him several moments to think of an answer that had a chance of satisfying her. In the end, there was only one true answer.
“Because I’m an insufferable baka.”
She scoffed. “Tell me something I don’t know.” Turning away, she strode purposefully to the futon and plopped down facing away from him. “Fine! Just go!” Perhaps he would have, but her slumped posture made him reconsider. Her shoulders were shaking with sobs, and he knew something else was going on here. Gingerly he sat down beside her, and she curled further into herself, hiding her face from his searching gaze.
“Come on, now. Why don’t you tell me what this is really about?”
Her head snapped up, surprise evident in her tearful visage. “H-how did you…”
Miroku chuckled. “My dear, I know I am attractive, but I don’t think a woman would cry just because she didn’t get to spend the night with me. I don’t have that high an opinion of myself.”
Chiyoko cracked a smile at this, drying her tears before sighing heavily. “It’s not you…it’s my father. He keeps trying to marry me off to these rich snobs who’ve never had to work for anything in their lives. I don’t want to marry someone who’s used to having everything handed to him on a silver platter! I want someone strong, someone who’s had to work to make his way in the world, someone who might actually care about me as more than someone to bear his children!”
Finally, understanding dawned on the monk. “So you thought that if you became pregnant, your father wouldn’t be able to marry you into any respectable rich family?”
“Exactly.”
“Why did you choose me?”
Chiyoko laughed outright. “Come on, Miroku-sama! Why do you think?”
He smirked. “Because I’m extraordinarily good-looking, unbearably charming, and the greatest lover Musashi has ever seen?”
“I don’t think so. An attractive young man had just rescued me from a youkai, and I guess I was a bit smitten. Besides, I could tell you were a good man. I thought that maybe if we spent the night together, I could convince you to stay with me…permanently.”
Miroku’s pity for this girl grew; she was so desperate to avoid a loveless marriage that she was willing to bed a total stranger in the hopes of at least finding some passion in her life. Her heart was in the right place, but she was going about things the wrong way.
“Have you spoken with your father about this?”
“He knows I don’t want to wed any of the losers he drags in here. So far, I’ve been able to scare all of them off. They want a nice, quiet, obedient wife, not an outspoken and willful woman like me. But sooner or later, I know one of them is going to accept my father’s proposal, and that will be the end of it.”
“If he knows your wishes, why will he not let you at least try to seek a husband on your own?”
“Because I’m his ‘only heir, and I have to inherit the family name a fortune,’ yada yada yada,” she mocked.
“You have no siblings?”
“No. My mother had…complications when she gave birth to me. She survived, but has been unable to carry a child since then. My father loves her too much to seek another wife or a mistress.”
“Your father is an honorable man. There are too few in this world who would remain loyal to a barren woman.”
Chiyoko shrugged. “Their marriage wasn’t arranged; they chose each other. That is what I want, the opportunity to seek a husband that will treat me the same way my father treats my mother. Even after all these years, they are still madly in love.”
“Well have you tried telling him that? Perhaps he thinks that you are only objecting to his matches out of spite, or immaturity. If you explain yourself to him, he may reconsider. From what you have told me, I gather that your father cares very much about your happiness.”
Chiyoko stared off into space, carefully weighing his words. “Maybe…” she said simply, but it was enough for Miroku to know that he had gotten through to her.
“So,” he began, the lecherous glint in his eye returning, “do you have anyone in mind?”
Chiyoko blushed. “Maybe, but he’s the son of a poor farmer! My father would never let me marry him.”
“Have you asked?”
“…”
“Look, Chiyoko-sama, you will never know what your father might say unless you sit down and have a serious talk with him. You are grown up now, and if you wish to be treated like an adult, you must act like one.”
She sighed, grinning sheepishly. “Well, I guess my behavior has been pretty juvenile.”
“There, you see? Everything will work out, just as long as you don’t go luring any more strange men into your bed, that is. Speaking of which, just what would this farm boy you fancy think of you if you got pregnant?”
“I guess I hadn’t thought of that… I haven’t even had the courage to tell him I like him yet.”
At this point, Miroku smacked himself in the forehead, shaking his head at her antics.
“Hey, you’re one to talk! A lecherous houshi who asks pretty girls to bear his children even though he’s already promised to someone!”
“Yes, but we’ve already established that I’m a baka.” He held up his hand to cut off her reply, listening intently to the ominous sounds coming from outside. “Do you hear that?”
“What is it?”
“It sounds like a bunch of angry people. Stay here; I’m going to check it out.” As he made his way through the house, a feeling of dread settled in the pit of his stomach. Given this village’s obvious disdain for youkai, he could imagine only one reason why they would gather in force. This does not bode well.
Inuyasha, Kagome, Sango, and Kirara were already outside, their backs to the wall of the house, and the crowd of club, sword, and torch-wielding humans surrounding them in a wide half-circle. He followed Kagome’s horrified stare to the man holding Shippou tied to the end of a pole. He was swinging the kit around in a slow arch, and the threat implied by that gesture only incensed Miroku more.
“Youkai filth!” the man called out. “Be gone from this village at once, and never return!”
Inuyasha was the first to break out of the shocked stupor that had settled over them when they saw their friend in such a predicament.
“We’ll be glad to leave this fucking shit-hole of a village, bastard! Just give us the runt back!”
“Ha!” the man barked out. He swung the pole downward, smashing Shippou’s tiny body against the ground with a sickening thud before flinging him into the air again. A choked cry was wrung from Kagome’s throat, and the sound of Inuyasha’s teeth grinding together was audible.
“What are you doing?!” Kagome cried. “How can you be so cruel?!”
“I caught this youkai with my daughter! Who knows what unspeakable things he was planning to do to her?!”
“He’s just a child! I’m sure they were just playing!”
“Do you expect us to believe you, half-breed?! This youkai will die! And so will you unless you remove yourselves from our sight at once!”
“I’m warning you, human,” Inuyasha growled with deadly seriousness, flexing his claws menacingly. “If you harm another hair on his head, there will be no mercy.”
The man smirked in response, and the rest of the villagers readied their weapons. He pulled back his arm, preparing to plunge it forward and crush Shippou into the dirt again…
It happened so fast. A dark-haired blur flashed past, giving no one any time to react. Into the silence of the night echoed the sickening sounds of tearing flesh, a single, agonized shriek followed by the screams of women and the outraged cries of men. The man fell back in horror, his bloody stump waving frantically, spurting crimson vitality everywhere. The severed limb was snatched out of the air and tossed aside, as was the pole their kitsune comrade had previously been tethered to. The crowd backed away, leaving the wounded man to suffer alone, the scents of their fear and fury increasing astronomically in strength. But even this could not drown out the scent of blood. It was that scent more than anything else that convinced Inuyasha that the scene before him was actually real, and not some perverse nightmare pulled from the darkest, most deranged corner of his mind. For in the middle of the carnage, standing with her back to him, was a youkai, one that inspired a fear in him greater than any he had ever before experienced.
“Kagome!”
She turned to him then, slowly, grinning maliciously from ear to ear. Her fangs glistened in the moonlight, her red eyes sending a chill up his spine. She appeared exactly as she had the day before, with one notable exception. The pink markings on her cheeks, which had previously glowed so brightly, were now dull and lifeless. That, and the entire front of her blouse was stained scarlet with the blood of her victim. The only thing indicating that she hadn’t completely lost herself was the way she delicately cradled Shippou’s limp form in one arm. Kneeling, she placed the kit gently on the ground, running her clean hand along his cheek, mindful of her deadly claws. Then she turned back to Shippou’s tormentor, raising her arm to deliver the killing blow.
That was enough for Inuyasha. Leaping forward, he sprinted the short distance between them and tackled her before she could lop off the man’s head. Over and over they rolled, each trying to establish dominance, but she didn’t turn her claws on him, even though she had ample opportunity to do so. Finally, his combat experience won out, and he pinned her on her back, holding her hands over her head as he straddled her waist. She snarled up at him, her black pupils boring into his own.
“Release me, Inuyasha!” she commanded, her voice low and menacing.
“Calm down, Kago—”
“No! That bastard will die! I’ll fucking kill them all!” She struggled mightily, nearly dislodging him. He threw his whole body into the effort to restrain her, but knew it was only a matter of time.
“Get him out of here!” he called to the stunned villagers. When they hesitated, he yelled more forcefully. “Now!”
They complied, grabbing the wounded man, whose thrashing and moans had greatly diminished, and carrying him away. Seeing her prey escaping, Kagome redoubled her efforts, tossing Inuyasha aside and scrambling to her feet. But she wasn’t fast enough. Again Inuyasha tackled her, bearing her to the ground, this time wrapping his arms around her and trapping hers at her sides. He curled his legs around hers to stop her kicking, and met her glare with one of his own, their faces only inches apart. She rebelled at her helplessness, but no matter what she tried Inuyasha held her fast. Her breasts heaved against his chest, but she refused to calm down. She snarled at him again, everything in her demeanor an overt challenge.
“Dammit, Inuyasha, you fucking bastard! Let go of me!”
“Not until you calm down, bitch,” he replied easily.
“Fuck you!” That was the last straw for Inuyasha. Her behavior was sending his own youkai instincts into overdrive, and he couldn’t help the fearsome growl that welled in his throat. It was a sound that any youkai in their right mind would heed, a demand for submission voiced in the strongest possible terms. But Kagome was not in her right mind. She shrank back a bit, her eyes widening, but continued to fight his hold.
“Kagome!” he tried again. “You need to stop this! You have to change back!”
She ceased all movement abruptly, and Inuyasha felt relief until her body started shaking with mirth. Her laughter was dark and chilling, quite possibly the most disturbing thing he had ever heard. That is, until her next words passed her lips.
“You want me to return to being a filthy hanyou? I’d rather die!”
Inuyasha seized as if physically struck. Of all the times he had been insulted or derided for his hanyou heritage over his long lifetime, none had hurt as much as this one did. Never before had his heart been torn from his chest and impaled, still beating, on a pike. And yet, the gaping hole in his chest cavity still screamed, wept, wailed in unfathomable sorrow. His mind tried to reassure him that this wasn’t really Kagome talking, but nothing could take away the sting of her words or undo the carnage they had wreaked on his psyche. Desperate to return Kagome to normal, he did the first thing that came to mind. It had proven to work in this situation, and was just about the only thing he was physically capable of doing at the moment.
This wasn’t like the previous times, however. This time, fueled by the pain of his freshly opened emotional sores, he slammed his lips onto hers in a bruising kiss, swallowing her outraged growls. His mouth moved harshly over hers, forcing it open so he could shove his tongue inside. He plundered her, ravaged her, not letting up until her rumbles quieted and then ceased, and she became pliant in his arms. He continued to tenderly explore her warm cavern until her tongue shyly rose to tangle with his own. After a few more seconds, he pulled away, relief flooding him as he was reunited with her beautiful chocolate orbs. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen, and she gazed up at him with something akin to wonder. But then other emotions began flickering across her visage: recognition, horror, remorse, expressions that made him willing to do anything if he could only take the past five minutes away. Unfortunately, he could not. Kagome had at the very least maimed someone, and she would have to come to terms with it. But first, they needed to get the hell out of this village.
“Come on,” he said to the others, gathering Kagome in his arms. “We’re leaving.”
Miroku and Sango followed blindly, the monk carrying the still unconscious Shippou and the taijiya riding on Kirara’s back, still stunned into silence by what they had seen. It had all happened so fast…
As they made their way into the forest, guided only by the pale moonlight, Inuyasha dared a peek at the woman in his arms, afraid of what he might see. She was staring off into space; he had never seen her eyes look so blank. And yet, tears were still flowing freely down her cheeks. Inuyasha steeled himself for the upcoming battle, knowing it was going to be difficult to convince Kagome that this was not her fault. He prayed she wasn’t permanently traumatized by the experience.
Reaching a suitable distance from the village, so he could no longer hear the lamentations of its inhabitants, he set Kagome down against a tree, since it didn’t look like she was about to support herself. She continued to stare unblinkingly straight ahead, seeing the nightmare she had lived over and over again on a continuous loop. Her friends stood around looking at each other; no one knew what to say. Surprisingly, it was Kagome who broke the oppressive silence.
“Is he dead?” she asked in a vacant monotone. And as much as he wanted to, Inuyasha couldn’t bring himself to lie to her. She would probably see right through it anyway.
“Probably,” he answered grimly. Finally, Kagome raised her teary eyes to his, and the deep remorse and self-loathing he saw in them nearly brought him to his knees.
“But there’s a chance he survived, right?”
He grimaced. She was pleading with him, begging him to rebut what her logical mind was telling her. Kagome wasn’t stupid; she knew that a human would have to get extremely lucky to survive a wound like that. He was losing blood so quickly, and the only chance would be to tie a rope around the stump within minutes. Otherwise, he would bleed to death. And even if his cohorts managed to stop the bleeding and he clung to life, his weakened body would be open to infection and disease. No, the chances of that man surviving his wound were slim to none, but Inuyasha couldn’t bring himself to tell Kagome this. He couldn’t be the one to crush her hope in his hands, and tell her that she was a murderer. So, after much consideration, he settled on the simplest answer he could give.
“Maybe.”
But Kagome knew him too well, and she immediately picked up on what he didn’t say. Sobbing, she drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, burying her face in shame as a new wave of tears assaulted her.
“Kami, Kagome-chan,” Sango said softly. “What happened?”
Kagome shook her head visibly, her voice muffled by her arms. “I don’t know! I don’t know! Seeing Shippou-chan get slammed into the ground like that…and then that bastard was gonna do it again…I-I couldn’t control myself.” Her head shot up suddenly, worry replacing guilt for the moment. “Where is Shippou-chan?! Is he okay?!”
“Relax, Kagome-sama,” Miroku soothed, holding the kit out so Kagome could see him. “He is just sleeping. He has some bumps and bruises, maybe a cracked rib or two, and some head trauma, but nothing his youkai blood can’t fix.”
Kagome sighed in relief, slumping bonelessly into the tree. But her self-reproach soon settled down upon her again, as did the uncomfortable silence in the clearing. Once again, Kagome spoke up first.
“You should all leave me here. It’s not safe being near me right now.”
“Kagome-chan!” Sango gasped. “That’s crazy! Where would you go?”
“I don’t know. Not back to my family, or I might go insane and kill them too.”
“Stop being ridiculous, Kagome-sama,” Miroku ordered gently. “In case you’ve forgotten, you saved Shippou. You were as protective and tender with him as ever.”
“It doesn’t matter! Dammit, can’t you see?! Look at my hand! It’s covered in blood! I’m a monster! I shouldn’t be around anyo—”
“Shut the FUCK up, bitch!!” Inuyasha’s outburst had its desired effect, as Kagome and everyone else were now staring at him with rapt attention. His anger had been rising steadily throughout this entire conversation, and that ‘monster’ remark sent him over the edge. It was clear that Kagome wasn’t going to get talked out of her shame spiral by kind words and reassurances that her friends still loved her. She needed some tough love. And who better to give it to her than the toughest son of a bitch this side of Goshinboku?
“So you’re a monster now, huh?” he sneered. “Tell me, Ka-go-me, what does that make me?”
Kagome’s eyes widened even further as the implications of her words set in. Patiently, Inuyasha waited for an answer as she stuttered repeatedly.
“T-that’s different.”
“Oh, really? How is me slaughtering bandits any different from what you just did?”
“I…you…”
“There is no difference, wench! It’s the same fucking thing!”
“B-but—”
“No, wench! What we did was the same! I wasn’t myself, and neither were you! We both have blood on our hands, but it wasn’t really us killing anybody!”
Kagome glared at the ground, seething with fists clenched at her sides. She wanted to curse herself as a monster. She didn’t want to believe his words, that she was mostly innocent in this. He could see the wheels turning inside her head as she tried to come up with a way she could condemn herself. Sighing, Inuyasha decided to try a new approach, though perhaps it wasn’t so new after all. Sitting down next to her, he drew her into his lap and enfolded her in his arms. She remained stiff, refusing to relax, but to his relief she didn’t fight him.
“Look, Kagome. Do you remember what you did for me that day? When I was washing the blood off my hands in the river? I said you didn’t have to force yourself to say beside me, and you hugged me. You hugged me and told me that you understood. You…you didn’t think I was a monster, a mindless killer. And you didn’t put those people’s deaths on my head. Do you have any idea what that meant to me? You forgave me…and because of that I was able to forgive myself. Now, you need to forgive yourself.”
Slowly, Kagome raised herself up, turning her head to meet his ardent gaze. He smiled at her; the light was back, the light that had vanished completely from her beautiful face. It was back, shining tentatively, but still there. But Kagome still had one more condemnation left in her.
“But I could have rescued Shippou without tearing someone’s arm off! I could have just snatched the pole from his hands!”
“And I could have protected you and the villagers by just scaring those bandits away. It doesn’t matter.”
Fresh tears welled in Kagome’s eyes, and as his words sunk in, she flung herself against his chest, clinging to him for all she was worth. He reciprocated the gesture, swathing her within the generous folds of his haori. She wept bitterly, wailing her despair and relief into the night as most of her guilt left her. She would always carry some around with her; he knew he did. It was part of the reason he worked so hard to strengthen Tetsusaiga, to ensure that never again would he spill human blood unnecessarily. Slowly his focus drifted off the distraught girl in his lap, and he noticed Sango and Miroku standing there looking down at him with relieved smiles. He blushed, having forgotten all about them as he was comforting Kagome. Never before had one of his glares so clearly meant ‘get the fuck out of here!’
“Come, Sango, let us set up camp,” Miroku said. But as they worked, neither could resist peeking back at him periodically when they thought he wasn’t looking. Feh, nosy humans. Gradually, Kagome’s sobs became sniffles and hiccups, and finally just random shivers. Even then, she remained nestled against him, and Inuyasha almost decided she had fallen asleep. But when the scent of freshly cooking fish drifted to their noses, both of their stomachs grumbled at once, and Kagome let out a choked laugh. She pulled back, wiping her eyes, still red and puffy from an evening’s worth of waterworks. But even so, when she smiled hesitantly at him, she took his breath away.
“Sorry,” she muttered, running her fingers along the wet spot on his haori.
“Keh.” He helped Kagome out of his lap and stood, offering her a hand up, which she gratefully took.
“Inuyasha,” she said, holding his hand in both her own. “Thank you.”
Maybe it was the nearby firelight flickering in her mahogany eyes, or maybe it was the intimate embrace they had just shared, but they were drawn inexorably to each other. Neither could look away as they came closer, nearly touching but still miles apart. His gaze lowered to her lips, then back up to her stunning orbs, which were glowing with emotions he didn’t dare name. But he would be a fool not to recognize the open invitation he swore he saw, and fully intended to take advantage.
“Fish is done!” Sango’s voice was like a bucket of ice water, dousing the flames of their passion, leaving only the ashes of longing in their wake. If looks could kill, the slayer would have been slain…twice. But the moment was gone, and they reluctantly released each other.
Inuyasha led her to the stream, supporting her with a hand on her shoulder as she rinsed the blood off her claws, reminding him once again of that afternoon not so long ago when their positions had been reversed. He retrieved a new blouse for her, and the blood-stained one was tossed in the fire. Dinner was quiet, but not uncomfortably so, and everyone turned in as soon as it was finished. Shippou still had not awoken, but he was breathing easily and Inuyasha was confident it was only a matter of time before the kit would be annoying him once again. He wasn’t so sure about Kagome; something was still bothering her. So it didn’t surprise him when she got out of her sleeping bag in the middle of the night and left camp, heading in the direction of the village. She probably wanted to know the fate of the man she had wounded, and he couldn’t blame her for that. He only hoped the answer didn’t undo all the progress he had made with her earlier that evening.
Leaping down from his perch, he scratched Kirara under the chin until she roused, then told her to watch over the humans while he was gone. The fire cat understood, and sat herself up dutifully. Inuyasha threw a couple more logs on the dying fire to make it more comfortable for her, then strode purposefully into the forest.
Tamiko – “many,” “beautiful,” & “child”
Chiyoko – “thousand,” “generations,” & “child”
(1) Whenever I read a fanfiction that has Shippou knowing everything about sex and demon mating, I roll my eyes and blanch. Call me old fashioned, but I don’t think small children should know about sex, regardless of whether they’re human, youkai, or something in between. “Youkai instincts” can only take you so far; you have to be taught the rest. Besides, in episode 16 (manga volume 6), he asks Inuyasha why he doesn’t bathe with Kagome, suggesting to me a certain innocence on the subject of male/female relations. And when he says “I was wondering how far you’d gotten with Kagome,” I don’t think he means it like a frat boy might mean it, LOL. I think he meant something more along the lines of “did you kiss her yet?” And we all know the answer to that question.
(2) Japanese women use “-kun” to address close male friends. Kagome, for example, calls wolf-boy “Kouga-kun,” which pisses Inuyasha off. So, at least according to my understanding, it would be highly unusual to use “-kun” to address someone you just met. Later, when Chiyoko isn’t trying to seduce Miroku, she uses the more formal term “Miroku-sama.”
A/N – So I start you off with a little preteen romantic comedy, then some monkish lechery, and then BAM! Kagome goes berserk and lops someone’s arm off. Yep, I’ve turned to the dark side, but I gotta inject some angst into this love-fest! I also hope you liked my “remake” of the 2nd movie kiss, with an entirely different sort of kiss. Hope I didn’t frustrate you too much with that teaser afterwards. It will happen eventually! And don’t think I’ve forgotten about youkai Kagome’s “filthy hanyou” remark. It will come up later, I can assure you.
Converting /tmp/phpenM58V to /dev/stdout
Fanfiction of the Week: “Of Strings and Kevlar,” by Selina MacCloveror
This is the first unfinished story I’ve recommended, and Selina doesn’t update regularly, but it’s so good. If you liked “Big League Affair,” you will like this one too.
Karaumea: Welcome to the party! It’s always nice to get new reviewers in addition to the people who review repeatedly. Thanks for your comments about the Rebirth spell. Like so many things in this story, it came to me as I was writing the chapter. And you’re right; I know I’m a good writer. I hope I don’t come off as arrogant, but I guess I am a little bit. But I know there are so many great fanfiction writers out there, and many who are better than me. It’s sometimes hard to believe that I’ve only been doing this for about half a year. I’m still a newbie!
wbk: Thanks for the comments. The differences in Inuyasha and Kagome’s behavior can probably be attributed to a combination of all the factors you mentioned. Their present situation is the same, but their pasts are literally worlds apart (hmm…I might have to use that line in a future chapter). Anyway, thank you for your praise of my writing style. I find my best scenes are the ones that just flow out of me. And I do try to inject some humor wherever appropriate.
Blood
Shippou was bored, just plain bored. After he and Inuyasha made their escape from the “hypersensitive bitch zone,” as the hanyou had so eloquently put it, he settled down on the rooftop with his art supplies. Coloring was fun for all of ten minutes, but then he set his crayons aside with a heavy sigh. He just wasn’t in an artistic mood today. Glancing at Inuyasha, he saw that the hanyou was dozing, and would be even less fun than he normally was. Kagome hadn’t come outside yet, so she and Sango were probably still talking. With nothing else to do, he crawled over to the edge of the rooftop to see what he could see.
He groaned; the sights that greeted him only increased his boredom. Just a bunch of normal humans going about their daily business. The only thing that was mildly interesting was Miroku giving palm readings to a group of single women on the far side of the village. But that was nothing unusual either, and Shippou rolled lazily over to the other side of the roof to get a different view. Instantly he perked up, his eyes widening as he spotted a girl kneeling in a field about a hundred yards away. A very pretty girl at that. She was picking flowers, her long mahogany hair swaying gently behind her. She reminded him of Rin; she looked to be about the same age, and the style of her kimono was the same, though hers was an off-white with pink highlights here and there. He caught himself staring and tore his gaze away, glad that no one was around—or awake—to witness his enchantment.
Yet, his eyes seemed to have a mind of their own, as they soon settled on the girl again despite his mind’s feeble protests. What was it about girls, anyway? Why did he feel compelled to look at them, talk to them, become friends with them? It had started with Satsuki and her stone flower, and since then he found himself compelled to seek out the company of pretty girls at many of the villages they stopped at. He usually did so in secret to avoid the teasing Inuyasha and the others would lay on him, whether they meant well or not. He still didn’t understand why they made such a fuss about the first time he “fell in love.” Did he fall in love with Satsuki? Probably not, but he had certainly liked her. And from his understanding, his attraction to girls was nothing unusual, just a sign of him growing up. Maybe the more you liked girls the more grown up you were? If so, then Miroku was the most mature man he ever met. That didn’t explain why the monk couldn’t get a woman to bear his child, though.
Trying to figure out adults made Shippou’s head hurt. On paper, things appeared so simple. When they were old enough, men and women fell in love, got married or mated, and did something together that nobody had told him about yet. (1) Whatever it was, it must be something really good or really bad for the adults to keep secret. And somehow, he knew that mysterious something was a large part of the reason why the relationships of his friends were so strained at times. He thanked his lucky stars that he wasn’t grown up yet, and that he didn’t have to worry about any of that stuff yet. After all, he hadn’t liked girls for very long. When he was younger, living with his kitsune family, most of his playmates were boys his own age. Girls were sissies, too wimpy to play with the boys, and to be avoided at all costs lest they rope you into playing some girly game with them. But now…
Now he had to go talk to this girl or he was going to go crazy! Kagome’s warning rang in his head, but he ignored it, telling himself that he would stay in sight of the inn. He leapt down from the roof, scurrying across the open ground excitedly. He slowed as he approached her; he didn’t want to seem too excited, after all. She was so engrossed in selecting the choicest flowers that she didn’t notice him. He took the chance to study her face, deciding she was even prettier up close.
“Whatcha doin’?” he asked, causing the girl to jump slightly.
“Picking flowers,” she answered kindly, though Shippou could have banged his head against a wall for the foolishness of his question. Smooth Shippou, real smooth.
“Um, what for?”
“Oh, they’re for my Okaa-san. She’s sick, and I thought they might make her feel better. I don’t recognize your voice. Are you from…around…here?” The girl trailed off, having finally raised her head to look at whoever she was speaking to, only to see nothing but blue sky with the village in the background.
“Down here,” Shippou said, a little peeved by his short stature. The reaction he received was the last thing he expected. When the girl looked down, her eyes widened in horror and she screeched before falling on her backside and backing hastily away from him. The flowers were flung up into the air in her fright, brightly colored petals scattered by the wind. Shippou could only stare dumbfounded at the child before him, quivering in fear. She looked like she wanted to run away, but her legs were frozen in terror.
“Please,” she begged, “d-don’t hurt me.”
By this point, Shippou’s chin was nigh touching the ground, and he almost had to close his mouth by hand so he could speak.
“I’m not gonna hurt you,” he soothed, taking a step toward her. But she only whimpered, scooting back another step to maintain the distance between them. She shook her head violently, clearly not believing him.
“J-just leave me alone! Please don’t eat me!”
That comment was the last straw for Shippou, as his temper at what this girl was accusing him of finally boiled over.
“I’m not gonna eat you, stupid wench!”
Apparently yelling had been the wrong strategy, for the girl curled into a ball, squeezing her eyes shut as a few tears escaped them. Shippou took a deep breath, mentally berating himself. Great, baka, now she’s even more afraid of you! And did I just call her a wench? Inuyasha would be proud.
“Look, I’m sorry I yelled at you, but I’m really not gonna hurt you. I don’t eat humans,” he said in disgust, the idea sickening him to the core. Slowly, the girl removed her hands from her face, and dared a peak at him.
“B-but you’re a y-youkai. My Otou-san said all youkai are bad.”
“Well, you’re Otou-san is wrong. Do I look like a bad youkai?”
The girl raked her eyes over his small frame, perhaps truly seeing him for the first time. “You look like a kid,” she said, frowning.
“I am a kid!”
Just as it appeared he had finally gotten through to her, another thought struck her and she shrank back. “B-but youkai are tricksters! You could be a big hulking ogre in disguise!”
“Oh, for the love of—all youkai aren’t tricksters either! I am…” Seeing her cringe at this revelation, he hastily added, “but this is my true form, I promise! I’m a kitsune, and I can do magic, but it’s all illusion.”
The girl seemed to digest this information, seeing the truth and genuine concern in his eyes. Finally, she sat up and faced him, drying her tears with a delicate hand.
“So…you’re really not gonna hurt me?”
“I don’t hurt girls,” he replied smugly, crossing his arms over his chest, still a bit annoyed with the whole situation.
“What kind of tricks can you do?” she asked suddenly, utilizing the quintessential children’s power to change focus in the blink of an eye. Finally, we’re getting somewhere! And as he gazed at her, her eyes puffy from crying but filled with youthful brightness, he couldn’t help but remember why he came over here in the first place. She was very pretty. He looked away, his cheeks heating as he stammered out a reply, trying to sound more confident than he actually was.
“L-lots of them! You know…I can multiply, or use a giant spinning top, and I can even change into a big, scary youkai!” He regretted that last part, fearing he had taken his boasting too far, but her reply nearly dropped his chin to the dirt again.
“Can I see?”
With her hands folded in front of her, and that pleading look on her face, Shippou found he couldn’t deny her even if he wanted to. Crap, this isn’t good. I don’t even know her name yet and I already like her!
“Promise you won’t get scared?”
She shook her head in the negative, and the ghost of a smile on her lips let him know that she trusted him not to hurt her. Without further ado, he popped into his large, pink balloon form. It was the same form he used to scare off the kids beating up Satsuki, but this time he tried to appear as unintimidating as possible. Apparently it worked, because the girl before him definitely didn’t appear frightened. Shippou transformed back into his kitsune form, shoulders slumping in disappointment as he gaped at her. This was not the reaction he had hoped for. She was supposed to be looking at him with awe, not giggling behind her hand!
“What’s so funny?” he grumped petulantly. It took her a moment to get her mirth under control.
“That wasn’t scary! That was…cute!”
Shippou’s eyebrow twitched. If there was one thing he hated, it was someone making fun of his kitsune abilities. A good storm-off was in order, and he turned to do just that.
“Wait!” the girl cried before running around and placing herself in front of him again. “I’m sorry I laughed! I’m really glad you’re not a scary youkai.”
Shippou tried to stay angry, he really did, but found it impossible. Ah, crap…I must really like her. And I still don’t know her name! He opened his mouth to ask her but she spoke up first.
“Aww…I lost all my flowers. Wanna help me pick some more?”
“Sure,” he replied automatically, not caring in the least that picking flowers was ‘girly.’
“My Okaa-san’s favorites are these little yellow ones that look like this,” she said, picking one up and showing it to him. It quickly became clear that the yellow flowers were difficult to find, but Shippou wasn’t so much looking for them as he was gathering the pieces of his scattered courage.
“What’s your name?” he finally asked.
“Tamiko. What’s yours?”
“S-Shippou.”
“Well, S-Shippou, it’s nice to meet you. I’ve never met a good youkai before. Do you have a family?”
“Well no, but—”
“You must be pretty strong to live out there by yourself.”
“Well, I used to live alone in the woods,” he said, puffing up his chest. “You know, finding my own food, chasing off youkai, just typical kitsune stuff. Now I travel with some humans and hanyou, plus another youkai. I look out for them so they don’t get themselves killed.”
“Wow, that’s really brave.”
Shippou blushed under the praise, but decided a little exaggeration couldn’t hurt, unless of course Inuyasha found out about it. The last thing he wanted was to end up getting thumped in front of Tamiko. Tamiko…what a pretty name…
“I think we picked all my Okaa-san’s favorite flowers in this field. Come on, I know of another one!” Tamiko beckoned him to follow, but Shippou hesitated, remembering that Kagome had told him not to wander. He debated with himself, but was strongly leaning toward going with Tamiko.
“Come on, Shippou!”
That did it, as he scampered to catch up with her. Eh, what’s the worst that could happen?
They picked flowers and played games for the rest of the afternoon, and Shippou even got to show off some more of his illusions. Tamiko enjoyed riding on his wooden horse, but her favorite trick was his “big pink blob” form. He didn’t even mind when she laughed and called him cute; making her happy was enough of a reward. And just as he was thinking that he was completely smitten with this girl, her fear returned full-force as she stared at something behind him. Before he could turn around, he felt a blow to the back of his head, and then nothing.
* * *
“Hmm…this is a good palm. I see years of happiness and many children in your future. Tell me, would you like to start by bearing mine?” “Oh, Houshi-sama! Surely you jest!”
Miroku sighed. Why do they all think I’m joking? Evidently, these women had never met a monk like him before. They probably only had contact with ‘true men of the cloth.’ He snorted. As if there was such a thing. As far as he was concerned, all men had urges; it was just a matter of how good you were at repressing those carnal desires. And how good or bad you were, or whether you even tried to repress your urges in the first place, had nothing to do with how powerful of a monk you were.
That hadn’t stopped him from staying up all last night praying. Even in the morning, when the damsels were out and about, he had no trouble suppressing his mild inclination to go womanize. If Sango was no longer in this world, what was the point? He had settled on the woman he wanted to spend his life with, and she was the only one he wanted to bear his children.
That, of course, begged the question of why he was out here asking pretty girls to lie with him. He reflected that it probably boiled down to having fun. After being gripped by heart-wrenching anxiety for almost a full day, he figured he deserved it. He liked flirting, and was very good at it. He liked eliciting gasps of shock and excitement from blushing beauties. He liked pushing society’s boundaries and playing the role of the charming rogue, the charismatic scoundrel. Hell, he even enjoyed the jealous glares he often received from the significant others. It was fun. And it was harmless. In his time with Inuyasha and the others, he had been stuck on one hell of a dry streak. With a few exceptions, no woman was willing to bear his child. Except Sango, of course, and that had to wait until after Naraku was defeated. He sometimes wondered what he would do if another woman actually accepted his proposal, but had no answer as of yet. It would probably never happen, so there wasn’t much point in dwelling on it.
He read palms for a little while longer before the crowd started to disperse. Truth be told, he didn’t know a thing about palm reading. But he liked to think that what he was doing gave people hope. Maybe if they thought they would live happy lives, they would try a little harder to make it so. Either way, he certainly wasn’t hurting anybody.
“Excuse me, houshi-sama.”
Looking up, Miroku spied the speaker standing in front of him, a tall, well-built man in his thirties. His voice and demeanor exuded authority, and Miroku reasoned that this must be a man of high standing in the village.
“Yes?”
“I am in need of your services. My daughter has been possessed by a youkai. If you drive it out, you shall have free room and board for the night, a hearty meal, and as much sake as you can drink.”
Miroku smiled; that was a very nice offer, indeed. The sake especially sounded heavenly. But his face fell as he realized that he might not be able to enjoy it after all.
“You are aware that I travel with two hanyou and two youkai? If you cannot provide for them as well, then I shall be unable to accept your offer.” Miroku hoped any prejudice the man had toward youkai could be overcome in light of his daughter’s health. If he refused, Miroku would go help the girl anyway; it was his duty as a monk. But this villager didn’t need to know that. His uneasy expression revealed his discomfort with the extra guests, but he reluctantly assented.
“Well, I suppose they haven’t caused any trouble so far…”
“Excellent! Your daughter is as good as cured! Lead the way, good sir.” He followed the man toward the center of the village, and into a very large, ritzy house. Servants could be seen doing various jobs on the grounds, and it appeared his initial impression about the man had been correct.
“Here is my daughter, Chiyoko,” he said, leading Miroku into a secluded room. Immediately the hairs on the back of the monk’s neck stood on end; there was a discernable youkai aura coming from somewhere in the room.
“I will need privacy,” he told the father, who shot him a harsh look. He had seen the wayward monk flirting with all the village girls while giving ‘palm readings,’ and wasn’t stupid. He didn’t need to voice his warning for Miroku to receive it loud and clear. Miroku breathed a sigh of relief as the overbearing man departed. Honestly, as if I would do anything inappropriate while she is unconscious. Maybe when she wakes up…
The youkai was fairly easy to dispatch once he got down to business. A loud hiss sounded as he approached the girl, so he instantly knew what he was dealing with. A snake youkai, invisible to the untrained eye, had snuck inside the house and coiled itself around the girl’s body, slowly feeding off her blood. It was a relationship that could have gone on forever; the youkai was only taking what the girl could afford to give. If her caretakers kept feeding her, the girl would continue to produce blood, and it would have been many years before the youkai released its hold. But such parasitic youkai were never very strong, and this one was no exception. A sutra and a swipe of his staff was all it took.
“Ugh,” Chiyoko groaned as she stirred. And for the first time, he noticed how beautiful this girl—woman—was. She looked to be about Kagome’s age, and her sleeping kimono revealed a well-proportioned figure that would make any man salivate. She opened her eyes, a deep sapphire hue, and blinked up at him in obvious confusion.
“Who are you?” she asked with a dangerous glint in her eye. “Did my father try to marry me off to some loser again?”
Miroku sweatdropped; apparently, this wasn’t your typical Japanese girl. She wasn’t the typical wealthy man’s daughter either, content with an arranged matrimony to strengthen a relationship with another well-to-do family. She had some spunk in her, and he already knew he liked that in a woman.
“No, no, I am but a humble monk. You were possessed by a youkai, and I exorcised it.”
“Oh,” Chiyoko said sheepishly, “I’m sorry.”
“Think nothing of it, my dear.”
“Do you have a name, Houshi-sama?”
“Forgive me, Chiyoko-sama, it is Miroku.”
“Well, Miroku-kun, thank you very much for saving me.”
Miroku’s eyes widened slightly. She’s calling me “-kun” already? The Kami are trying to tempt me. (2) He became further convinced of that fact when the temptress before him raised her arms over her head and stretched languidly. Her chest pushed forward, the folds of her kimono separating just enough to reveal a tantalizing view of her cleavage. She rolled on her side, rubbing one fist against her eye in one of the most adorable gestures Miroku had ever seen. If he didn’t know any better, he would swear that she was flirting with him on purpose.
“Thank you again, Miroku-kun. I wish there was some way I could express my gratitude properly…” Well, the monk thought, so much for knowing any better. That scintillating smirk she wore could only mean one thing, and the man in him was, quite literally, standing at full attention. And whatever objections the moral, loyal side of him could conjure up were outweighed by habit and a long-deprived libido. Reaching down, he grasped both her hands in his own while peering deep into her gorgeous eyes.
“Would you bear my child?”
“Yes. Yes, I will.”
Miroku knew what her body language was telling him, but still found himself utterly flabbergasted by her response. What surprised him the most was that her answer didn’t make him feel elated. Far from it actually; he felt positively rotten. What was this feeling, this dirty sensation? Was it…guilt? Chiyoko’s father chose that moment to reenter the room, forestalling any further thought on the matter.
“Chiyoko, my darling daughter! You’re awake!” The two shared an embrace, and Miroku began to back away, hoping for a silent exit. Perhaps Chiyoko would forget about this whole bearing his child thing.
Or perhaps not. Just before he made his escape, she glared at him over her father’s shoulder, that lustful look in her eye piercing straight through his heart. Her delicate tongue snaking out and sensually wetting her lips went straight to another part of him. Never had he been more grateful for baggy robes. Yet, his body’s reaction to her just made him feel even more like a colossal jackass. He swiftly retreated from the house, finding a peaceful spot outside to meditate, hopefully to shed some light on his strange emotions.
Did he want to sleep with this girl? That seemed to be the most elementary question, but it shocked him deeply to discover that the answer was just as obvious. No. No, he did not. His body wanted to pound into her all night long, and his ears desired to hear her throaty moans and pleasured cries, but his mind and heart were sickened by the idea. Even if they could be together with one hundred percent certainty that she would not get pregnant, that it would just be a one-night stand with no strings attached, he still didn’t want to spend the night with her. But why? Why was he going against his urges as a man and relinquishing a goal that had been central to his life for years? Why was he wasting such an opportunity? He only needed one word to answer all these questions—Sango. He had chosen Sango the day he proposed to her, perhaps before. Unwilling to abandon his lecherous ways, he had continued to behave toward women as he always had. But there was no doubt in his mind now that asking any other woman to bear his children was a futile gesture. He cared too much about her to go through with it, to betray his lovely Sango. The revelation filled him with warmth, and his guilt finally vanished. All was right with the universe again. He was not going to lose Sango due to his own foolishness.
Standing and dusting himself off, he went to retrieve the others. No doubt they would be glad to get out of that stuffy inn, especially with the promise of a good meal and warm beds waiting for them. And at least Inuyasha would partake in the sake with him. Miroku smirked. The dope would probably end up drinking too much, because ‘hanyou don’t get drunk.’ And in the morning, he would deny his hangover and all the stupid things he had done while intoxicated. Yes, it was going to be fun night.
And it was, up to a point. The food was delicious, and the drinking was about to commence when the door to their room slid open, revealing a sight that put a sinking feeling in Miroku’s stomach. It was Chiyoko, leaning sensuously against the doorframe, her face sporting an alluring ‘come hither’ look. He sighed inwardly, knowing what he had to do and hoping she would take it well. He rose to his feet and strode out the door, not needing to look back to know that Sango was incensed. Hopefully she would understand when he returned in a few minutes, and not hours. Perhaps if he had looked back, he would have seen that instead of anger, the taijiya’s expression reflected only sadness.
He followed Chiyoko down the hallway and into another room, this one smaller with a single, large futon located in the middle. There was no doubt what she was planning to do on said futon, as she spun around and moved to kiss him. He placed his hands gently but firmly on her shoulders, causing her to look at him in confusion and irritation.
“Chiyoko-sama…we need to talk.”
“Don’t wanna talk,” she breathed, leaning forward, but again he held her back. Huffing, she withdrew a couple steps and crossed her arms over her chest. “What is it?”
“I-I can’t do this.”
“Why not? You know you want to,” she drolled, tracing a delicate finger along his cheekbone down to his lower lip, playfully flicking it. He shook her off, though his horny body forcefully berated him for it. If my penis could talk…
“Chiyoko-sama…I just can’t. I am already promised to someone.”
The girl’s face fell, and Miroku’s heart went out to her. Is there a bigger bastard in this entire world than me?
“One of the women you travel with?” she asked despondently.
“Yes. I’m sorry, Chiyoko-sama. I didn’t mean to hurt yo—”
“Oh, yeah? Then why the hell did you ask me to bear your child in the first place?!” Her sudden fury took him by surprise, and it took him several moments to think of an answer that had a chance of satisfying her. In the end, there was only one true answer.
“Because I’m an insufferable baka.”
She scoffed. “Tell me something I don’t know.” Turning away, she strode purposefully to the futon and plopped down facing away from him. “Fine! Just go!” Perhaps he would have, but her slumped posture made him reconsider. Her shoulders were shaking with sobs, and he knew something else was going on here. Gingerly he sat down beside her, and she curled further into herself, hiding her face from his searching gaze.
“Come on, now. Why don’t you tell me what this is really about?”
Her head snapped up, surprise evident in her tearful visage. “H-how did you…”
Miroku chuckled. “My dear, I know I am attractive, but I don’t think a woman would cry just because she didn’t get to spend the night with me. I don’t have that high an opinion of myself.”
Chiyoko cracked a smile at this, drying her tears before sighing heavily. “It’s not you…it’s my father. He keeps trying to marry me off to these rich snobs who’ve never had to work for anything in their lives. I don’t want to marry someone who’s used to having everything handed to him on a silver platter! I want someone strong, someone who’s had to work to make his way in the world, someone who might actually care about me as more than someone to bear his children!”
Finally, understanding dawned on the monk. “So you thought that if you became pregnant, your father wouldn’t be able to marry you into any respectable rich family?”
“Exactly.”
“Why did you choose me?”
Chiyoko laughed outright. “Come on, Miroku-sama! Why do you think?”
He smirked. “Because I’m extraordinarily good-looking, unbearably charming, and the greatest lover Musashi has ever seen?”
“I don’t think so. An attractive young man had just rescued me from a youkai, and I guess I was a bit smitten. Besides, I could tell you were a good man. I thought that maybe if we spent the night together, I could convince you to stay with me…permanently.”
Miroku’s pity for this girl grew; she was so desperate to avoid a loveless marriage that she was willing to bed a total stranger in the hopes of at least finding some passion in her life. Her heart was in the right place, but she was going about things the wrong way.
“Have you spoken with your father about this?”
“He knows I don’t want to wed any of the losers he drags in here. So far, I’ve been able to scare all of them off. They want a nice, quiet, obedient wife, not an outspoken and willful woman like me. But sooner or later, I know one of them is going to accept my father’s proposal, and that will be the end of it.”
“If he knows your wishes, why will he not let you at least try to seek a husband on your own?”
“Because I’m his ‘only heir, and I have to inherit the family name a fortune,’ yada yada yada,” she mocked.
“You have no siblings?”
“No. My mother had…complications when she gave birth to me. She survived, but has been unable to carry a child since then. My father loves her too much to seek another wife or a mistress.”
“Your father is an honorable man. There are too few in this world who would remain loyal to a barren woman.”
Chiyoko shrugged. “Their marriage wasn’t arranged; they chose each other. That is what I want, the opportunity to seek a husband that will treat me the same way my father treats my mother. Even after all these years, they are still madly in love.”
“Well have you tried telling him that? Perhaps he thinks that you are only objecting to his matches out of spite, or immaturity. If you explain yourself to him, he may reconsider. From what you have told me, I gather that your father cares very much about your happiness.”
Chiyoko stared off into space, carefully weighing his words. “Maybe…” she said simply, but it was enough for Miroku to know that he had gotten through to her.
“So,” he began, the lecherous glint in his eye returning, “do you have anyone in mind?”
Chiyoko blushed. “Maybe, but he’s the son of a poor farmer! My father would never let me marry him.”
“Have you asked?”
“…”
“Look, Chiyoko-sama, you will never know what your father might say unless you sit down and have a serious talk with him. You are grown up now, and if you wish to be treated like an adult, you must act like one.”
She sighed, grinning sheepishly. “Well, I guess my behavior has been pretty juvenile.”
“There, you see? Everything will work out, just as long as you don’t go luring any more strange men into your bed, that is. Speaking of which, just what would this farm boy you fancy think of you if you got pregnant?”
“I guess I hadn’t thought of that… I haven’t even had the courage to tell him I like him yet.”
At this point, Miroku smacked himself in the forehead, shaking his head at her antics.
“Hey, you’re one to talk! A lecherous houshi who asks pretty girls to bear his children even though he’s already promised to someone!”
“Yes, but we’ve already established that I’m a baka.” He held up his hand to cut off her reply, listening intently to the ominous sounds coming from outside. “Do you hear that?”
“What is it?”
“It sounds like a bunch of angry people. Stay here; I’m going to check it out.” As he made his way through the house, a feeling of dread settled in the pit of his stomach. Given this village’s obvious disdain for youkai, he could imagine only one reason why they would gather in force. This does not bode well.
Inuyasha, Kagome, Sango, and Kirara were already outside, their backs to the wall of the house, and the crowd of club, sword, and torch-wielding humans surrounding them in a wide half-circle. He followed Kagome’s horrified stare to the man holding Shippou tied to the end of a pole. He was swinging the kit around in a slow arch, and the threat implied by that gesture only incensed Miroku more.
“Youkai filth!” the man called out. “Be gone from this village at once, and never return!”
Inuyasha was the first to break out of the shocked stupor that had settled over them when they saw their friend in such a predicament.
“We’ll be glad to leave this fucking shit-hole of a village, bastard! Just give us the runt back!”
“Ha!” the man barked out. He swung the pole downward, smashing Shippou’s tiny body against the ground with a sickening thud before flinging him into the air again. A choked cry was wrung from Kagome’s throat, and the sound of Inuyasha’s teeth grinding together was audible.
“What are you doing?!” Kagome cried. “How can you be so cruel?!”
“I caught this youkai with my daughter! Who knows what unspeakable things he was planning to do to her?!”
“He’s just a child! I’m sure they were just playing!”
“Do you expect us to believe you, half-breed?! This youkai will die! And so will you unless you remove yourselves from our sight at once!”
“I’m warning you, human,” Inuyasha growled with deadly seriousness, flexing his claws menacingly. “If you harm another hair on his head, there will be no mercy.”
The man smirked in response, and the rest of the villagers readied their weapons. He pulled back his arm, preparing to plunge it forward and crush Shippou into the dirt again…
It happened so fast. A dark-haired blur flashed past, giving no one any time to react. Into the silence of the night echoed the sickening sounds of tearing flesh, a single, agonized shriek followed by the screams of women and the outraged cries of men. The man fell back in horror, his bloody stump waving frantically, spurting crimson vitality everywhere. The severed limb was snatched out of the air and tossed aside, as was the pole their kitsune comrade had previously been tethered to. The crowd backed away, leaving the wounded man to suffer alone, the scents of their fear and fury increasing astronomically in strength. But even this could not drown out the scent of blood. It was that scent more than anything else that convinced Inuyasha that the scene before him was actually real, and not some perverse nightmare pulled from the darkest, most deranged corner of his mind. For in the middle of the carnage, standing with her back to him, was a youkai, one that inspired a fear in him greater than any he had ever before experienced.
“Kagome!”
She turned to him then, slowly, grinning maliciously from ear to ear. Her fangs glistened in the moonlight, her red eyes sending a chill up his spine. She appeared exactly as she had the day before, with one notable exception. The pink markings on her cheeks, which had previously glowed so brightly, were now dull and lifeless. That, and the entire front of her blouse was stained scarlet with the blood of her victim. The only thing indicating that she hadn’t completely lost herself was the way she delicately cradled Shippou’s limp form in one arm. Kneeling, she placed the kit gently on the ground, running her clean hand along his cheek, mindful of her deadly claws. Then she turned back to Shippou’s tormentor, raising her arm to deliver the killing blow.
That was enough for Inuyasha. Leaping forward, he sprinted the short distance between them and tackled her before she could lop off the man’s head. Over and over they rolled, each trying to establish dominance, but she didn’t turn her claws on him, even though she had ample opportunity to do so. Finally, his combat experience won out, and he pinned her on her back, holding her hands over her head as he straddled her waist. She snarled up at him, her black pupils boring into his own.
“Release me, Inuyasha!” she commanded, her voice low and menacing.
“Calm down, Kago—”
“No! That bastard will die! I’ll fucking kill them all!” She struggled mightily, nearly dislodging him. He threw his whole body into the effort to restrain her, but knew it was only a matter of time.
“Get him out of here!” he called to the stunned villagers. When they hesitated, he yelled more forcefully. “Now!”
They complied, grabbing the wounded man, whose thrashing and moans had greatly diminished, and carrying him away. Seeing her prey escaping, Kagome redoubled her efforts, tossing Inuyasha aside and scrambling to her feet. But she wasn’t fast enough. Again Inuyasha tackled her, bearing her to the ground, this time wrapping his arms around her and trapping hers at her sides. He curled his legs around hers to stop her kicking, and met her glare with one of his own, their faces only inches apart. She rebelled at her helplessness, but no matter what she tried Inuyasha held her fast. Her breasts heaved against his chest, but she refused to calm down. She snarled at him again, everything in her demeanor an overt challenge.
“Dammit, Inuyasha, you fucking bastard! Let go of me!”
“Not until you calm down, bitch,” he replied easily.
“Fuck you!” That was the last straw for Inuyasha. Her behavior was sending his own youkai instincts into overdrive, and he couldn’t help the fearsome growl that welled in his throat. It was a sound that any youkai in their right mind would heed, a demand for submission voiced in the strongest possible terms. But Kagome was not in her right mind. She shrank back a bit, her eyes widening, but continued to fight his hold.
“Kagome!” he tried again. “You need to stop this! You have to change back!”
She ceased all movement abruptly, and Inuyasha felt relief until her body started shaking with mirth. Her laughter was dark and chilling, quite possibly the most disturbing thing he had ever heard. That is, until her next words passed her lips.
“You want me to return to being a filthy hanyou? I’d rather die!”
Inuyasha seized as if physically struck. Of all the times he had been insulted or derided for his hanyou heritage over his long lifetime, none had hurt as much as this one did. Never before had his heart been torn from his chest and impaled, still beating, on a pike. And yet, the gaping hole in his chest cavity still screamed, wept, wailed in unfathomable sorrow. His mind tried to reassure him that this wasn’t really Kagome talking, but nothing could take away the sting of her words or undo the carnage they had wreaked on his psyche. Desperate to return Kagome to normal, he did the first thing that came to mind. It had proven to work in this situation, and was just about the only thing he was physically capable of doing at the moment.
This wasn’t like the previous times, however. This time, fueled by the pain of his freshly opened emotional sores, he slammed his lips onto hers in a bruising kiss, swallowing her outraged growls. His mouth moved harshly over hers, forcing it open so he could shove his tongue inside. He plundered her, ravaged her, not letting up until her rumbles quieted and then ceased, and she became pliant in his arms. He continued to tenderly explore her warm cavern until her tongue shyly rose to tangle with his own. After a few more seconds, he pulled away, relief flooding him as he was reunited with her beautiful chocolate orbs. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen, and she gazed up at him with something akin to wonder. But then other emotions began flickering across her visage: recognition, horror, remorse, expressions that made him willing to do anything if he could only take the past five minutes away. Unfortunately, he could not. Kagome had at the very least maimed someone, and she would have to come to terms with it. But first, they needed to get the hell out of this village.
“Come on,” he said to the others, gathering Kagome in his arms. “We’re leaving.”
Miroku and Sango followed blindly, the monk carrying the still unconscious Shippou and the taijiya riding on Kirara’s back, still stunned into silence by what they had seen. It had all happened so fast…
As they made their way into the forest, guided only by the pale moonlight, Inuyasha dared a peek at the woman in his arms, afraid of what he might see. She was staring off into space; he had never seen her eyes look so blank. And yet, tears were still flowing freely down her cheeks. Inuyasha steeled himself for the upcoming battle, knowing it was going to be difficult to convince Kagome that this was not her fault. He prayed she wasn’t permanently traumatized by the experience.
Reaching a suitable distance from the village, so he could no longer hear the lamentations of its inhabitants, he set Kagome down against a tree, since it didn’t look like she was about to support herself. She continued to stare unblinkingly straight ahead, seeing the nightmare she had lived over and over again on a continuous loop. Her friends stood around looking at each other; no one knew what to say. Surprisingly, it was Kagome who broke the oppressive silence.
“Is he dead?” she asked in a vacant monotone. And as much as he wanted to, Inuyasha couldn’t bring himself to lie to her. She would probably see right through it anyway.
“Probably,” he answered grimly. Finally, Kagome raised her teary eyes to his, and the deep remorse and self-loathing he saw in them nearly brought him to his knees.
“But there’s a chance he survived, right?”
He grimaced. She was pleading with him, begging him to rebut what her logical mind was telling her. Kagome wasn’t stupid; she knew that a human would have to get extremely lucky to survive a wound like that. He was losing blood so quickly, and the only chance would be to tie a rope around the stump within minutes. Otherwise, he would bleed to death. And even if his cohorts managed to stop the bleeding and he clung to life, his weakened body would be open to infection and disease. No, the chances of that man surviving his wound were slim to none, but Inuyasha couldn’t bring himself to tell Kagome this. He couldn’t be the one to crush her hope in his hands, and tell her that she was a murderer. So, after much consideration, he settled on the simplest answer he could give.
“Maybe.”
But Kagome knew him too well, and she immediately picked up on what he didn’t say. Sobbing, she drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, burying her face in shame as a new wave of tears assaulted her.
“Kami, Kagome-chan,” Sango said softly. “What happened?”
Kagome shook her head visibly, her voice muffled by her arms. “I don’t know! I don’t know! Seeing Shippou-chan get slammed into the ground like that…and then that bastard was gonna do it again…I-I couldn’t control myself.” Her head shot up suddenly, worry replacing guilt for the moment. “Where is Shippou-chan?! Is he okay?!”
“Relax, Kagome-sama,” Miroku soothed, holding the kit out so Kagome could see him. “He is just sleeping. He has some bumps and bruises, maybe a cracked rib or two, and some head trauma, but nothing his youkai blood can’t fix.”
Kagome sighed in relief, slumping bonelessly into the tree. But her self-reproach soon settled down upon her again, as did the uncomfortable silence in the clearing. Once again, Kagome spoke up first.
“You should all leave me here. It’s not safe being near me right now.”
“Kagome-chan!” Sango gasped. “That’s crazy! Where would you go?”
“I don’t know. Not back to my family, or I might go insane and kill them too.”
“Stop being ridiculous, Kagome-sama,” Miroku ordered gently. “In case you’ve forgotten, you saved Shippou. You were as protective and tender with him as ever.”
“It doesn’t matter! Dammit, can’t you see?! Look at my hand! It’s covered in blood! I’m a monster! I shouldn’t be around anyo—”
“Shut the FUCK up, bitch!!” Inuyasha’s outburst had its desired effect, as Kagome and everyone else were now staring at him with rapt attention. His anger had been rising steadily throughout this entire conversation, and that ‘monster’ remark sent him over the edge. It was clear that Kagome wasn’t going to get talked out of her shame spiral by kind words and reassurances that her friends still loved her. She needed some tough love. And who better to give it to her than the toughest son of a bitch this side of Goshinboku?
“So you’re a monster now, huh?” he sneered. “Tell me, Ka-go-me, what does that make me?”
Kagome’s eyes widened even further as the implications of her words set in. Patiently, Inuyasha waited for an answer as she stuttered repeatedly.
“T-that’s different.”
“Oh, really? How is me slaughtering bandits any different from what you just did?”
“I…you…”
“There is no difference, wench! It’s the same fucking thing!”
“B-but—”
“No, wench! What we did was the same! I wasn’t myself, and neither were you! We both have blood on our hands, but it wasn’t really us killing anybody!”
Kagome glared at the ground, seething with fists clenched at her sides. She wanted to curse herself as a monster. She didn’t want to believe his words, that she was mostly innocent in this. He could see the wheels turning inside her head as she tried to come up with a way she could condemn herself. Sighing, Inuyasha decided to try a new approach, though perhaps it wasn’t so new after all. Sitting down next to her, he drew her into his lap and enfolded her in his arms. She remained stiff, refusing to relax, but to his relief she didn’t fight him.
“Look, Kagome. Do you remember what you did for me that day? When I was washing the blood off my hands in the river? I said you didn’t have to force yourself to say beside me, and you hugged me. You hugged me and told me that you understood. You…you didn’t think I was a monster, a mindless killer. And you didn’t put those people’s deaths on my head. Do you have any idea what that meant to me? You forgave me…and because of that I was able to forgive myself. Now, you need to forgive yourself.”
Slowly, Kagome raised herself up, turning her head to meet his ardent gaze. He smiled at her; the light was back, the light that had vanished completely from her beautiful face. It was back, shining tentatively, but still there. But Kagome still had one more condemnation left in her.
“But I could have rescued Shippou without tearing someone’s arm off! I could have just snatched the pole from his hands!”
“And I could have protected you and the villagers by just scaring those bandits away. It doesn’t matter.”
Fresh tears welled in Kagome’s eyes, and as his words sunk in, she flung herself against his chest, clinging to him for all she was worth. He reciprocated the gesture, swathing her within the generous folds of his haori. She wept bitterly, wailing her despair and relief into the night as most of her guilt left her. She would always carry some around with her; he knew he did. It was part of the reason he worked so hard to strengthen Tetsusaiga, to ensure that never again would he spill human blood unnecessarily. Slowly his focus drifted off the distraught girl in his lap, and he noticed Sango and Miroku standing there looking down at him with relieved smiles. He blushed, having forgotten all about them as he was comforting Kagome. Never before had one of his glares so clearly meant ‘get the fuck out of here!’
“Come, Sango, let us set up camp,” Miroku said. But as they worked, neither could resist peeking back at him periodically when they thought he wasn’t looking. Feh, nosy humans. Gradually, Kagome’s sobs became sniffles and hiccups, and finally just random shivers. Even then, she remained nestled against him, and Inuyasha almost decided she had fallen asleep. But when the scent of freshly cooking fish drifted to their noses, both of their stomachs grumbled at once, and Kagome let out a choked laugh. She pulled back, wiping her eyes, still red and puffy from an evening’s worth of waterworks. But even so, when she smiled hesitantly at him, she took his breath away.
“Sorry,” she muttered, running her fingers along the wet spot on his haori.
“Keh.” He helped Kagome out of his lap and stood, offering her a hand up, which she gratefully took.
“Inuyasha,” she said, holding his hand in both her own. “Thank you.”
Maybe it was the nearby firelight flickering in her mahogany eyes, or maybe it was the intimate embrace they had just shared, but they were drawn inexorably to each other. Neither could look away as they came closer, nearly touching but still miles apart. His gaze lowered to her lips, then back up to her stunning orbs, which were glowing with emotions he didn’t dare name. But he would be a fool not to recognize the open invitation he swore he saw, and fully intended to take advantage.
“Fish is done!” Sango’s voice was like a bucket of ice water, dousing the flames of their passion, leaving only the ashes of longing in their wake. If looks could kill, the slayer would have been slain…twice. But the moment was gone, and they reluctantly released each other.
Inuyasha led her to the stream, supporting her with a hand on her shoulder as she rinsed the blood off her claws, reminding him once again of that afternoon not so long ago when their positions had been reversed. He retrieved a new blouse for her, and the blood-stained one was tossed in the fire. Dinner was quiet, but not uncomfortably so, and everyone turned in as soon as it was finished. Shippou still had not awoken, but he was breathing easily and Inuyasha was confident it was only a matter of time before the kit would be annoying him once again. He wasn’t so sure about Kagome; something was still bothering her. So it didn’t surprise him when she got out of her sleeping bag in the middle of the night and left camp, heading in the direction of the village. She probably wanted to know the fate of the man she had wounded, and he couldn’t blame her for that. He only hoped the answer didn’t undo all the progress he had made with her earlier that evening.
Leaping down from his perch, he scratched Kirara under the chin until she roused, then told her to watch over the humans while he was gone. The fire cat understood, and sat herself up dutifully. Inuyasha threw a couple more logs on the dying fire to make it more comfortable for her, then strode purposefully into the forest.
* * *
Name Translations (courtesy of behindthename.com)Tamiko – “many,” “beautiful,” & “child”
Chiyoko – “thousand,” “generations,” & “child”
(1) Whenever I read a fanfiction that has Shippou knowing everything about sex and demon mating, I roll my eyes and blanch. Call me old fashioned, but I don’t think small children should know about sex, regardless of whether they’re human, youkai, or something in between. “Youkai instincts” can only take you so far; you have to be taught the rest. Besides, in episode 16 (manga volume 6), he asks Inuyasha why he doesn’t bathe with Kagome, suggesting to me a certain innocence on the subject of male/female relations. And when he says “I was wondering how far you’d gotten with Kagome,” I don’t think he means it like a frat boy might mean it, LOL. I think he meant something more along the lines of “did you kiss her yet?” And we all know the answer to that question.
(2) Japanese women use “-kun” to address close male friends. Kagome, for example, calls wolf-boy “Kouga-kun,” which pisses Inuyasha off. So, at least according to my understanding, it would be highly unusual to use “-kun” to address someone you just met. Later, when Chiyoko isn’t trying to seduce Miroku, she uses the more formal term “Miroku-sama.”
A/N – So I start you off with a little preteen romantic comedy, then some monkish lechery, and then BAM! Kagome goes berserk and lops someone’s arm off. Yep, I’ve turned to the dark side, but I gotta inject some angst into this love-fest! I also hope you liked my “remake” of the 2nd movie kiss, with an entirely different sort of kiss. Hope I didn’t frustrate you too much with that teaser afterwards. It will happen eventually! And don’t think I’ve forgotten about youkai Kagome’s “filthy hanyou” remark. It will come up later, I can assure you.
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