Yu Yu Hakusho Fan Fiction / InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Indescribable ❯ Part I: Tough of an Angel ( Chapter 1 )

Indescribable

By: KibaSin/Kiba

 

Summary: Something deep within him has stirred, something that is foreign to him. All because of a little miko that saved his life. [Hiei x Kagome; Two-Shot]

 

Disclaimer: I hold no claims to Inuyasha or Yu Yu Hakusho. They belong to their creators: Takahashi Rumiko©, and Yoshihiro Togashi©. I merely borrow them to create my own little piece of work for my own twisted satisfaction.

 

Rating: T/PG-13; Rated for unclean thoughts, mentions of death and violence

 

Genre: Angst/Drama/Romance/General

 

OoO

 

Part I: Tough of an Angel

 

His mind was closing off, darkness beginning to cloud in from all sides. He thought it ironic, for the detective had told him time and again how one was taken to the Reikai when they died. He did not find it strange that he was merely floating there, eternal darkness clouding in around him, for he was sure this was his punishment for having lived at all. That bastard who ruled Reikai always did have a twisted sense of humor, especially when it came to those that he thought were beneath him simply because of what they were.

 

He'd never understood it, though he'd still fought to stay alive. He knew that others were horrified of such a union, like the one that had created him, but to instantly think the babe evil? Was that not evil itself? He'd never understood it, for he had had to fight his way through life like any other of his kind, yet he was ridiculed, damned the moment he was conceived. Others, even when they knew of the will one such as himself needed in order to truly survive, wished to simply forget he had ever existed, destroy him even if they did not know him.

 

That was why he believed this darkness would be his end. He accepted it, for he would not give that damn Enma the satisfaction of knowing he'd sent him to a place that he could not stand. A place where he was truly alone, though he pushed others away during life, his own secluded area in Hell. If his soul was ever pulled from this dark place in order to be reincarnated, though he doubted it ever would be, he would throw it in that gods face, mocking him for such a pitiful style of torture.

 

He reached out, trying to determine if he was truly floating in nothing. His hand did not come in contact with any form of matter, silently allowing him to know that he was indeed simply floating. Simply darkness, for though he moved his body, feeling his arm brush against his side, he could not see, even with his superior vision. The feeling it gave him almost caused him to curse at everything that he could, trying to find blame on someone else for the reason he was done in, but he forced the feeling away. There was nothing that could be done, and he accepted that.

 

Still, he couldn't help but feel there could have been more he could have done, if only he had not died so soon. He had been young in demon standards, there could have been so much more he could have done in life. True, he would not have been suddenly softened and changed his entire outlook on that pitiful existence, but they would have been good deeds. Deeds he was sure would have left his soul more at rest, instead of feeling the regret it now felt.

 

He turned his mind away from those thoughts, knowing they would do him no good, and focused on another. His sister, his twin, Yukina. He had promised himself, even if he never told her who he truly was, that he would protect her from harm. He'd made that promise, and now he could no longer keep it. Yes, she had been safe when he'd met his end, but he still felt he had wronged her. He should still be alive, he should still be protecting her, but he was not.

 

He could only hope that in the years to come she would find happiness. Perhaps not with that idiot, Kuwabara, but someone that could make her happy in the Ningenkai—no matter how short that time might be. Yukina deserved that, even if she did carry the blood of the fire demons within her, though he doubted she even knew that. He hoped that without him there she would be safe, since there was no doubt in his mind that the fox would take it upon himself to watch over her a little more. After all, if Kurama had only turned a little sooner he was sure that demon would have never gotten the chance to stab him in the back, literally.

 

He was sure Kurama would blame himself for that, though truly it was not his fault. He should have sensed the other demon and he should have turned in order to block its attack, instead of allowing his lust for battle to consume him so entirely. He'd always found that he could turn any emotion into rage, or something close to it, and that had always helped his blood pump while in battle, giving him the advantage. This time, though, this time he had allowed it to slip a little further than it should have, and in doing so, he'd paid less attention to his surroundings than he should have. The fox, though, would probably still blame himself, especially when he'd caught the last sight of his fear when he'd turned to look after catching sight of the blade sticking through his body.

 

For a moment he couldn't help but wonder what the others thought. Would they miss his presence, or would they simply go on with life without him? He was sure that in some way they would miss him, in some way they would mourn, even though he'd once thought he'd always be alone. At one point he would have laughed, and spat in anyone's face if they'd told him he'd ever have those he could trust, that he could call friend. Then, when he started to put that trust in them, and he made a small mistake, he'd had his life, as terrible as it had been, taken from him. In truth he couldn't blame them, they had been doing their job, but any of them could have turned a few moments before to at least warn him of the danger. Perhaps like Kurama they would all blame themselves and mourn over his loss?

 

Not that he cared.

 

He had no reason to care anymore. He was dead; there was nothing to care about. In some way he was positive he could care for something still, since he would still remember everything until he was reincarnated, if that ever happened. He could wonder and curse and hope about things in his past life, the life that had ended so abruptly after nearly three-hundred years of struggling. He could, but there was no reason to when he was alone and there was nothing he could do except wonder and curse and hope. There was nothing, nothing but him, so there was no reason to care or anything else anymore.

 

However, though he told himself not to care, he reached out. His mind told him it was in desperation, trying to cling to the life he had had, but his stubborn side wouldn't allow him to believe it. His fingers closed around nothing, for he wasn't even sure if there was air, since he was positive he was no longer breathing, even with the slight rise and fall of his chest. His fingers then opened and he tried to reach further, tried to grab to something that he knew he couldn't at that moment.

 

Anger blossomed into his chest at that moment. He shouldn't care, but he'd left so many things undone, so many strings hanging when they should have been tied in some way. He'd never told his only family that he existed; now he was dead. He'd never gotten around to telling Kurama that he enjoyed his companionship; now he was dead. He'd never gotten around to telling the stupid detective that he was all right; now he was dead. He'd never gotten around to telling that oaf Kuwabara that he was improving, even if only a little; now he was dead. He couldn't do those things, and it angered him more than anything. He shouldn't care, but they were things that he should have been allowed to complete, if even to a certain point.

 

Life truly was unfair to those it did not want and cast into death.

 

Turning his head, or thinking he did, he growled deeply in his chest. He wondered if, for a moment, he was going insane already. He had no way of knowing how much time had past, whether years had flown by after his death. He had no way of knowing what had happened to his teammates, nor anything that he might have given a damn about. That would have normally cast him more into his rage, but he realized after a moment that anger could not help him in this place. Nothing could help him, not anymore.

 

The darkness gave what sounded to be a cry, and he shifted again, feeling his eyes widen a bit. He'd never heard anything similar to the sound, and he wondered for a moment if he had not died, but instead been transported to some strange place in his actual body. He felt heavier for a moment, like he was having trouble drawing in air, and a speck of fear found itself buried deeply in his chest. Perhaps he was alive, but there was some strange demon hiding in the shadows waiting to kill him. Perhaps that sound was the demon preparing to strike him, and now he would face his death, and soon find himself facing judgement from Koenma or his father.

 

His pupils shifted in size, his crimson eyes searching, as tiny tendrils of light began to leak into the place he'd found himself. Nothing seemed to move, and his tiny bit of hope that he was alive went crashing. The light was probably just Enma mocking him in his prison, wherever it was. The fucking bastard was probably getting a kick out of giving him a small thought of hope, that maybe he was either alive or going to be reincarnated. He was positive that wouldn't happen, though. Enma would probably find it hilarious to tease him for all eternity, even though it was not his fault his soul had ended up in such body. He probably did something horrifying in his past life for Enma to even consider placing a soul into the life he'd had.

 

He'd probably been tortured like this before, too. Before Enma had found the perfect host for his soul to inhabit. In fact, he was positive that the bastard would do it, again and again and again. It was a shame, since that only meant that his soul would find every life terrible, against it in every way.

 

His eyes narrowed, the light increasing, spreading out into the darkness. He found that he was indeed floating, almost like he was suspended in midair. It was not so easily described, though, since red and black bands spread out in all directions from underneath him. His fingers slipped through them, unable to feel them in any way, even as they vanished into his skin. His mind did not linger there long, returning to where the light was increasing, becoming brighter with each passing second.

 

The darkness pulsed, and screamed again, as the light brightened to a degree that he was surprised he could still gaze into it so easily. Then, his eyes widened again, a hand shot through the center of where the light had first began to leak into his prison. Another followed, and then an upper body was pulled through the hole created, more light streaking into the area around him, brightening everything to the degree that it appeared pure white.

 

Black, what seemed to be, hair floated around the figure that completely crossed over into his area after a moment of pulling. Light pulsed from around the figure, as they floated for a moment, turning their head to and fro, obviously searching for something. His eyes narrowed once more when the figure turned toward him, and seemed to push off from the place they were located, floating soundlessly toward him.

 

He growled in warning, but the figure did not stop. Fear prickled along his skin, wondering what in the world this creature was. He'd never seen anything like it, but within moments it had settled itself above him, parallel to where he was simply floating. Blue, pink, and white bands shot out from its flesh, tangling instantly with the red and black ones surrounding him, causing a strange feeling to flood over his flesh, soothing the fear that had originally been there. A sense of calm radiated from the figure, and his growl dissipated, wonder entering his mind as it had before.

 

Hands reached out of long sleeves, coming up to push away the hair floating around them, and the face of a woman appeared into his view. She was smiling, radiating a feeling of protection and forgiveness, something he had never felt completely directed at him. It settled into his body, calming him more, and making him to feel as if he was going limp. However, something inside of him struggled a bit against her, not trusting her bright blue eyes, as they stared so deeply into his own. Something inside of him hissed; making words that seemed so distant that they turned foreign to his own ears, as she brought her hand out to brush against his face.

 

The tenderness that she showed was surprising in a way, having never had a female show such a thing toward him. Not even his mother had, he was positive. Yet she touched him without even a second thought, as if he was the least likely thing to bring her harm. She touched him as if she trusted him to not do anything to put her in danger, and his eyes widened when he heard his own mind whisper that he wouldn't.

 

However, the piece of him that fought allowed the Jagan to open on his forehead. He wasn't sure how, but he knew that it had happened, even without feeling it. A band of dark purple spread out to wrap around the bands she had cast out from her form, as if testing her. She smiled even more, as if unaffected by the glowing third-eye that he possessed. The eye that was probably glaring at her, searching for a way into her mind in order to possess her, though he doubted for a moment the eye would be able to. After all, how could it possibly possess something that radiated such pureness of body, heart, and mind?

 

The woman had to be an angel; someone who did not have any prejudice.

 

She leaned forward a bit, continuing to smile. His control over the dragon loosened, and he wondered why the creature was still attached to him at that moment. However, unlike what he'd thought, the dragon did not remove itself from his arm, even as the wards covering it burned away in black fire, the flames streaking out and forming along the woman's flesh. She did not burn, only continued to smile, as if she understood that he could not control the piece of him that was allowing the most dangerous pieces of him to escape. She continued to show tenderness toward him, as if he were the most precious thing in her life—as if, he were her mate, though he would have originally scoffed at the very idea.

 

`I won't hurt you, I promise.' Her lips moved, yet the words that she spoke seemed to caress his mind through the Jagan more than his ears. `Let me help you.'

 

His opened his mouth, but no words passed from his lips. He knew that his growl had echoed into the darkness before, yet words would not form from his vocals. He wanted to tell her that he trusted her, he knew not why, but he did. He would allow her to help him. He could only hope that her help would remove him from the dreadful place he'd been in before her light had pierced through the darkness.

 

She leaned forward more, her lips very close to eye glaring at her from his forehead. Her smile increased a bit, spreading just a little more, as she gently touched his flesh, her lips grazing against the skin just underneath the Jagan. `I promise, Jagan, I won't harm you or your master. Calm yourself, and allow me to help you.'

 

Her words struck him, and he realized instantly she was speaking with the Jagan, the words only reflecting into his mind. Her lips moved because she was trying to tell him, but found quickly that she could not communicate through physical words, so somehow she stepped past that obstacle. She forced the Jagan to listen to her words, and within moments afterward he felt the struggling piece inside of him calm. It seemed to create distance between them, even though it was apart of him, allowing her to press her body against his, the bands around them tangling together even more so than before.

 

The woman pulled back, though her body pressed so intimately to his own. At that moment the dragon finally pulled itself from his arm, giving off a deep animalistic growl, though it was not threatening. The dragon opened its mouth, but no roar came forth, as it wrapped itself around them, almost like it was accepting the woman. The woman did not seem to notice, even as he watched the dragon pull the strange bands closer and closer to their bodies, tangling their limbs together in a way that she almost seemed to be apart of him for a moment.

 

His eyes caught her own, and he blinked once. When his eyes opened again, he allowed them to widen completely, as he felt something soft touch his lips. Her face was so close to him that it click instantly that there was nothing but her lips that could be touching his own. He was shocked, unable to move, as she pried open his lips, her tongue invading his mouth soon afterward. His heart picked up speed, his eyes drooping after a moment, as a strange feeling seemed to pull itself from his body, enter her own, and then return to him. The moment lasted, his tongue finally moving to touch her own, but before the contact could be made, she pulled herself away from him, her smile still bright.

 

`Live,' caressed his mind.

 

She began to fade from existence, even as his hand reached out to grab her, to keep her with him. She disappeared in a sparkle of light, but the bands that she'd cast out from her body were tangled with his own so well they appeared to be one and the same. He opened his mouth to call out, but a burning sensation filled it once he did, spreading out from where her lips had touched his and into the rest of his body. It hurt, as the dragon pressed down on him, cradling his body within its coils, and the burning continued to spread.

 

Instantly it stopped, and the world around him pulsed. His vision faded, the roar of the dragon distant in his ears as her single word hit him again. `Live.'

 

OoO

 

“…he's waking up,” came a voice.

 

“Is he gonna be alright?”

 

“The shrimp's not gonna die, is he?”

 

“Shut up, Kuwabara!” came the second voice. “Of course he's not going to die!”

 

His eyes opened a fraction, a groan filling his chest. Hazy images formed in front of his eyes, until it cleared and he saw the face of his companion leaning over him. The concern in his eyes lessened, until the fox was merely smiling at him.

 

“Hiei.”

 

“Fox,” he groaned. “What happened?”

 

“You were dying,” came a softer voice. “I couldn't allow that to happen.”

 

His eyes widened only a little, as he turned his head toward the voice. Hiei blinked, for sitting beside him, smiling the way she had before, was the angel who had been with him for a short time. However, the scent that filled his nose told him that she was not an angel.

 

The girl was human, yet she still radiated the aura of someone pure.

 

“I'm glad you're alright,” she said, smiling a little more. “My name is Kagome, by the way, and I'm explain what just happened to the best of my abilities if you want me to.”