InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Waiting on a Wish ❯ Prologue

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Disclaimer: InuYasha doesn’t belong to me. Kagome doesn’t belong to me. Miroku? Nope. Sango? Uh-Uh. Shippou? *sniff* Rumiko Takahashi owns it all, everything, all the way down to the silly well. And I certainly don’t make any money off of them. All you have to do is look at my back account to see that.

*sigh*

Everyone who writes one of these wishes those ears belonged to them, but alas, Takahashi-sensei has that privilege. The rest of us just drool with envy :)

A/N:

The Prologue of this story started as a One-Shot, and sparked this idea in the first place. It’s been cut and formed to fit this story.

Struggled with myself and went back and forth about this, but I finally decided to add it.

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PROLOGUE:

 

Blood. It was everywhere--in the air, on the ground, soaking into clothes and mud. It was all over him, he smelled of it, reeked of it--his blood mixed with his friends’.

It was over. Everything was done. Bits and pieces of a once powerful enemy lay scattered everywhere, diamond chunks glistening in the sprinkling rain. The long sought after heart was gone, destroyed, dust mixed in with the mud. They had won--and yet he had nothing.

Broken weapons--shattered arrows, a torn bowstring, a cracked staff and a giant boomerang--lay in shattered pieces, stained dark scarlet. A little kitsune with red hair lay in a pool of his own blood a few feet away, and the holy man and the seasoned fighter had spent their last, brief moments wrapped in each other’s arms.

But it was the scent of her blood that broke him.

The great sword fell from his limp hands, all but forgotten as he clawed his way through the mud. Panic blurred the edges of rational thought as he sat on his knees at her side, surveying the damage he had been unable to prevent. Rage and guilt ate at him as her breathing grew even more ragged and thin, the massive hole in her chest making it harder and harder to draw breath. In one bloody fist, she clutched a brightly glowing jewel--complete, safe, pure--but at far too high a price.

Moaning, he grabbed her into his arms, cradling her precious body close. He called out her name, his voice as broken as his spirit.

He threatened, ordered, pleaded. She had to live.

But she was only human.

With one last, gentle smile--one last, whispered word--she pressed the jewel into his hand. Her beautiful eyes closed, her body grew still and heavy, and the life--the vibrancy that always marked her--went out of her scent. He rocked her body gently, unable to let go.

Claws ruptured the ground, tearing at mud. It was all gone. His whole life. The friends that had made life so worth living, who had pulled him out of his shell of bitterness and allowed him to trust, to believe in happiness again--he had lost them all.

And the girl in his arms.

One clawed hand tenderly rubbed at the dirt and mud smearing her cheek, a thumb brushing over her lips. He had thought he would have time. Time to resolve the mistakes of the past, time to tell her what she meant to him, what she had given him. What he intended for them.

A silver head bowed over the lifeless bundle in his arms, and dull, grief-stricken eyes of gold focused on the glowing orb in his hand. Power--all the power he had ever wanted, everything he had ever aimed for sitting right in the palm of his hand. All he had to do was ask.

A lip curled, a fang gleamed. Pointless. Useless. He almost laughed.

What will you do now?

He looked up helplessly at the woman who had been his past, even as he held the lifeless body of the one who was to have been his future. He didn’t bother to look at the destruction all around.

All he really wanted was to protect his friends, his family. He had failed--miserably--and everyone had paid. All he wanted now was a second chance.

She warned him. No wish, no matter how selfless, was without a price. No life could be restored without penalty to another. The price would be high. And wishes were never what they seemed.

He wished anyway. No price was to high, no pain or torment to much. He grasped the jewel tightly and, for the first time in his life, he begged.

A heartbeat sounded. The jewel pulsed. Once. Twice.

Then, in a great surge of power, the jewel dissipated, expanding outward in a wave of pure, brilliant energy, washing over all of creation.

 

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