InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Dark Past of a Demon Warrior ❯ The Beginning ( Chapter 1 )

As the mid-summer sun rises to shed its first lights on the small village, the figure of a teenage boy can be seen, sitting on the stone wall surrounding the houses. He sits with his legs hanging over the outside edge, and he looks out over the valleys weaving between the surrounding hills, bearing a sad, contemplative expression. He sighs lightly, turning to look behind him toward the sound of the village awakening. In his new pose, his visage becomes visible - a gentle face, almost human, complimented with mid-back length silver hair and dog ears. He wears a fairly new-looking black vest with clean black pants that are a bit too long, tied about the waist with a thin, normal belt.

 

The young boy turns his entire body toward the village with a huge sigh as a voice calls out nearby, “Kumouri! Kumouri, come to breakfast!” Yes, his mother was already awake when he left… so breakfast has probably already been ready for a few minutes. He leaps down from the wall and dashes toward the first home, one of the nearest to the gate. He bows slightly before entering, a custom his mother taught him to follow, and walks in to a warm greeting from his mother. “Kumouri! Good, it shouldn't be cold just yet. You need to find more to do that avoid the other young ones, and think about your father. I tell you, he'll come back for us one day!”

 

Kumouri smiles and sits at the short table as his mother starts to separate some of the coals from her cooking to lessen the heat and flame so it will die more quickly. “You don't take too long, either; you deserve warm food, too, Mother.” Kumouri smiles warmly.

 

For the life of a half-demon, it hasn't been all that bad. His village actually had a few other half-demons in it, and he was accepted like any other child, to an extent. The village elders had taken a disliking to him, because they had a general mistrust for dog demons. They had been attacked by one named Sesshomaru, who had been about Kumouri's current age at the time, before any of them had been elders, and he had claimed to be traveling a path of “supreme conquest” in order to surpass his father, the Great Dog Demon. The only real result of this attack is that, years later, when the elders are the only people that can really remember the attack, Kumouri is an outcast, even in a half-demon community.

 

Kumouri has learned to defend himself with bows, staves, swords, daggers… just about anything he could learn from the weapons master in the nearest city. He is more deadly than any of the men in the village, even at his young age. Yet… he has no desire to be violent for any reason other than defense. He doesn't flaunt his skills by practicing them in the square, like some of the other boys with their swords and spears. He goes out into the woods to practice, or up into the hills. He even enjoys the tranquility at times, as much as he hates being alone.

 

He is only really plagued by one thing: he doesn't have any idea of who his father is. His mother tells him only stories, like about how his father could control the very wind or cut eight men in half with his unusually large sword, which he called his “Zan-batou.” His father is the only mystery in his life that he feels like he can't tackle with what he knows from the village.

As he finishes up his breakfast, he sighs and looks across the table to his mother, who is also nearly finished. “Mother... this is just one more day, leading to when I have to leave after Father.” He says this everyday, and he knows that his mother has been expecting it, but for some reason, an awkward silence opens up between them. They sit, not even bothering to move from the table or look away from each other's eyes. “I think I might leave today.”

 

He has no idea what brought him to say this, but he knows that he is speaking the truth. It is his last morning in the village… His mother closes her eyes and tears slowly start to flow from her eyes. “And it is your time… You must have forgotten… today, you turn sixteen. I'm ready to let you go, even with your sheltered past.” She stands up and leaves him to think. She starts to pack provisions and such things for his travels, tears streaming from her eyes.

 

Kumouri stares into the space where his mother just sat, completely shocked by the exchange that just occurred. “I'm going… out to the woods, Mother. I won't be gone as long as normal.” She only nods and continues.

 

Kumouri sighs, reaching at the wall beside the exit for his most prized weapon, a sword, about as long as the distance from the ground to his shoulders. It isn't too heavy for him, because of his demonic strength, and it's good for him to learn, according to Mister Weapons Master. He chances a single glance at his mother as he steps out breathes in deeply. He leaps up adeptly over a few of the houses, landing on one of the outer houses, and then leaps over the wall to the edge of the wood.

 

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After swinging his sword at nothing but air for a couple of hours, he has been contemplating a tree. He knows that felling a tree might have horrible consequences… but he really wants to try out his swing to see if he can do it. He has come to a decision already, and he has squared in front of relatively large tree with his sword held with both hands in front of him. After concentrating on the tree for a bit, he lunges at it with a grunt and swings with all of his might, and he is completely surprised when his blade seems not to meet with the tree at all but pass straight through it instead, although the tree starts to fall anyway. He leaps quickly away, lest it fall toward him.

 

After the loud crashing of the tree among the other trees, Kumouri listens about for anything else falling. He hears a cracking noise… He starts to head toward it, thinking it to be a weak tree waiting for a disturbance to fall. As the sound grows closer, he realizes what the noise is. “That's… fire!” He doubles his pace, fearing for the worst, and recognizes bandits as soon as the village comes into view. The village is in roaring flames.

”Mother!”