Yu Yu Hakusho Fan Fiction ❯ The Reason for Living ❯ Chapter 1 ( Chapter 1 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

She was young, fifteen, but she looked younger. Maybe it was the emancipated look about her, the hollowness of her eyes, or the doll her mother made clutched to her chest like a lifeline. Her kimono was in tatters, stained with dirt and ash. The autumn breeze cut through her like a knife, but she didn't feel it. She didn't feel the glass and wood cut into her feet either. She couldn't feel anything but pain, numbed by her tears and a night of steady crying in the skeleton that had been her home. It was gone. That one thought kept repeating itself in her mind over and over and over. And it was true. Everything was gone. Mother was dead, her burnt corpse lying in the ash of her ruined home with her bother, sister and father. Hina, her best friend, was gone too. The elders, her grandparents, all of them reduced to burnt flesh and bone. Corpses.
 
She couldn't bear the pain any longer. She shouldn't have run away, but her mother had screamed at her to flee, leave this place and never look back. Who was she to disobey? Ironic that the last ditch effort to save her life would be her main reason for ending it. She had nothing to live for anymore. No one would remember this village, the place where she had spent all her life, laughing and playing and growing. No one would remember her, either. She wouldn't even be a memory. How could she, when there was no one left to remember her?
 
She turned her back on life and began her walk towards death. The forest surrounding her home was familiar to her. It had given her shelter during the attack, and now it would give her the peace of death. Sunlight filtered through the canopy and dappled the ground, flitting across her hair as she walked. She couldn't feel the branches digging into her bare feet anymore than she felt it in the ruins of the village. She knew were she was going, even if she was too far gone to know it consciously.
 
Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead. The word repeated in her mind, in time with her footfalls, her beating heart. She wished her heart would just shut up. What right did it have to beat when her family and friends and life were stone cold dead, or would be if it weren't the embers that smoldered on their charred skin? What right did she have to live? None!
 
She broke the cover of the trees into the waning sunlight. Before her was a cliff and a gorgeous view. The trees that ran as far as she could see were died orange, pink, and gold buy the sunset. She couldn't see it though. She had closed her eyes against the fresh tears that rolled down her cheeks into the ground below. The pain flowed through her like a slowly killing poison in her veins. All she wanted was for it to stop. All she wanted was to see her mother's smile, have her father lifter her bodily in one of his bear hugs, to play with her little brother and sister. To join all those who had left her behind. She moved forward purposefully to the edge of the cliff.
 
A hand on her shoulder made her stop.
 
Too far gone to feel fear, she turned her pitiful gaze from the clawed hand to the cold golden eyes looking down at her. If she had any will left, she would have noticed the malicious intent under those eyes. They looked… hungry. Like she was a next meal. The look was gone a millisecond later, bearing a false mask of pity, hoping to ensnare her. She almost chuckled at that. There was nothing left to ensnare.
 
He looked like a man, but the clawed hands, cold golden gaze and sheer height made something scream `not human!' in her mind, not that she really cared. His hair was unnatural silver with fox-shaped ears peaking out. Her gaze gravitated from the strange loose garment to the fox-shaped tail and something clicked in her brain, something from one of grandfather's stories.
 
“A spirit fox….” She said softly, her voice hoarse and grief ridden, a fresh wave of pain washing over her at the memory. The hand on her shoulder moved up to run through her black hair. It was warm, so very warm, and oddly comforting. She leaned into the touch ignoring the warning bells that started going off in her mind.
 
“Why do you seek to end your life, human girl?” The tone was deep and rich and full of pity, but when she looked up into his eyes she saw a spark of malice. She ignored it, seeing this man, this <i>demon</i> as he last remaining source of comfort. Which she knew was his plan all along.
 
A long pause, and then a shaky breath. “It…hurts…. so much” Her voice broke and she started trembling all over. She fisted her hands in the strange garment and turned around to lean against the tall figure. Something in the back of her mind told her that he did not wish to comfort her, and was after something much more sinister. The rest of her mind snapped back that she didn't care, that she was going to die anyway and what did she have left to lose? She ignored that corner of her mind when it reminded her that her virginity was pretty near the top of the list.
 
“Then…let me ease your pain.” He had leaned down as he said this, his lips brushing against her ear. The resulting shudder had nothing to do with the pain she felt.
 
His hands ran up her sides and she curled into the touch. It felt good when good was a flighty dream for the weak. These hands that violated her sent shivers up her spine as they pressed her flush against the solid body in front over her. Lips and then tongue against her ear made her shudder and clutch desperately. The tongue ran across her cheeks, lapping up the tears that had laid salty tracks on her face, and her mind clamored in conflict. The warning bells in her mind screamed. This wasn't right, she shouldn't be doing this, especially not with a <i>demon</i> she would surely go to hell for this loveless union. And then lips pressed against hers and threw everything out of her mind except that wonderful expecting feeling curling in the pit of her stomach.
 
Everything in her mind narrowed down into this one moment, this <i>now</i>. As he laid her gently on the grass away from the cliff's edge, she didn't think about the past she had lost, or the future she was sure she was never going to have. All she thought about was lips and skin and <i>heat</i>. A rocking, sliding pressure until everything focused into one point and erupted through her entire body, throwing her mind away and all she did was be still and feel and feel and <i>feel</i> because it was so much better, so much <I>better</I> than the alternative.
 
The afterglow descended upon her and she felt herself sink into fatigue born by grief and tears and sex. Before she knew it, she felt sleep washing over her. She thought it was odd that he was still there, allowing her to lie against him. She found it stranger still that he was running a hand smoothly up and down her back. He'd got what he'd wanted, and now that she could think, he expected him to leave, or finish for her what she had sent out to do. After a while, she was so far into sleep that she couldn't care any more. Before she lost all consciousness, she heard a soft voice in her ear:
 
“My name is Youko Kurama. I am the King of Thieves and I have saved your life. Don't forget it.”
 
She smiled sleepily, knowing somewhere inside her that she wouldn't.
 
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People were talking over her. She wasn't pleased, because she was really quite tired and sore in very…. personal places. She also had a feeling she didn't want to wake up, and she didn't want to remember why. She groaned and turned over; muttering something along the lines of could you please shut up? I'm tired, go ask mom.
 
Then it hit her with a pang. Mom was dead, so was everyone else. She would be too if it weren't for the fact that she-- she blushed and hid her head in a pillow, hoping the strangers around her didn't notice that she was awake.
 
“Oh, she's waking up!”
 
Nope, no such luck. She sat up reluctantly and blinked, looking into the eyes of an unfamiliar-looking middle-aged woman. The other women in the room converged on her, asking her questions before she could answer them and twittered about her annoyingly, trying to be useless, but failing spectacularly. Five pairs of hands checked her forehead for fever.
 
“Come on now, don't crowd her. Get her something to drink and some food,” Said the oldest of the group. The girl sighed in relief, partly from the thought of food, but mostly because the presence of the other women was stifling.
 
“Wake up, dear, what's your name?”
 
“Uhnhh…. Yumiko….” Her voice sounded gravely and foreign to her, so she cleared her throat and tried again. “Were am I?” There, that sounded a little better. Now, she had to keep herself from strangling the kind worried woman next to her. Her voice, low and soothing, sounded much too much like mothers, and she couldn't really handle that right now. She distracted herself with planning how she was going to get out of here and back to that cliff… or find something sharp to -
 
<I>“My name is Youko Kurama. I am the King of Thieves and I have saved your life. Don't forget it.”</I>
 
She gulped and hugged herself tightly. She didn't know why, but she couldn't end her life now. It was a matter of principle more than anything. She knew this Kurama hadn't slept with her out of the goodness of his heart, but for some reason, him saying that… she just couldn't anymore.
 
“Well then Yumiko, drink this up.” Yumiko jumped as the woman's voice tore her from her thoughts. She took a sip and let the hot liquid flow over her cracked throat and sooth the scratchiness away.
 
“You are in a bath house. This morning some of the women found you on the steps of the entrance asleep. What happened to you? How did you get there?
 
“I…. I don't know… its all just a blur.” Yumiko thought furiously for a good story. Telling this woman that she was about to commit suicide before she slept with a demon who apparently left her hear was a surefire way to get kicked out, or, depending on the town, stoned. She was saved from having to make up a story, however, when she was attacked by a wave of nausea. Not even bile came out, however. When had been the last time she had eaten?
 
“S-sorry.” She smiled apologetically, her body trembling slightly from the exertion. What she really wanted to do was cry, but she couldn't, for some reason. It was like they were stuck at the back of her throat by some roadblock.
 
The woman put an arm around her back. “Dear, what's wrong? We found you on the steps out cold, wrapped in nothing but a blanket. What happened? Were is your family?”
 
“I…. I have no family.” She said and started sobbing. At first they were dry sobs that did nothing but leech energy from her frail body. Then the tears broke through the roadblock from sheer presser and they streamed down her face like a waterfall. Through her tears, she told them about her family, about how there was a raid while she was out in the woods and had gotten lost, and when she came back, everyone was dead. Fortunately, she had the presence of mind not to tell them what really happened. She said that she had wandered aimlessly about the woods for hours, but didn't remember anything past nightfall. When she was finished her story, she felt the older woman's arms wrap around her, but she pushed away. She couldn't stand physical contact right now, not with what had happened. She curled up on the futon and refused to talk. Finally the older woman sighed and left the room. She cried herself to sleep.
 
The next few months, Yumiko was little more than a zombie. Although she had decided not to end her life, she did nothing to live. The women set her to work two weeks after her mysterious arrival. She set about without complaint, eating and sleeping little, yet working hard. Busywork was the best way to keep her mind off her family and friends who were lost in the terrible raid.
 
After two months she realized that something was not right with her. She was constantly nauseated and steadily gaining weight. It wasn't till she went to the doctor at the bath house did she find out that she was pregnant. With a half demon child
 
She wasn't so immersed in her zombie-like state to not realize that to stay at the bathhouse meant certain death for her and her unborn child. She was caught, however, trying to leave, and the women there insisted she stayed. So she stayed, locking herself in her room after she was banned from doing chores. There she stayed until she gave birth to her newborn son, Tatsuha, and made the promise that would change her life to the sleeping babe in her arms as she ran from the villagers wishing to exterminate the abomination.
 
“I will find your father, Tatsuha. I will search with my whole life and being, and you will never have to live with the persecution of my kind again.”
 
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(Two Hundred Years Later; The Dark Tournament)
 
Yumiko was standing stock-still on a ledge, about 100 yards from a small target she drew on a tree. She had four throwing knives held between her fingers as if they belonged there. She took a deep breath, counting to five and letting it out slowly. She cleared her mind, focusing only on the target.
 
Suddenly she moved. The blond kitsune leaped up into the air, her long braid trailing out behind her. She made a maneuver that was some sort of hybrid flip and turn, and threw the knives midway between leaving the ground and completing the flip.
 
They hit the target dead center and she completed the stunt, landing lightly on a tree branch, only to crouch down and propel herself toward the target while drawing her crossbow from its holster. She shot the bolt that had been fitted on it, landed, and back flipped high, landing neatly in the ledge. She grabbed the longbow that was leaning against a handy nearby boulder and notched and arrow. As she aimed, the projectile became glowing an eerie green before she shot it. When the arrow hit, it completely decimated the tree and the surrounding foliage.
 
Yumiko surveyed the damage apathetically, shrugged, and then turned around to leave. Her progression was halted, however, when a small bundle of fur bounded up to her and jumped into her arms. She laughed, wrapping her arms around the fox kit and buried her nose in its fur.
 
“Hi there, Tatsuha. I thought you were sleeping?” There was a puff of smoke and a ten-year-old boy replaced the small black fox in her arms. She grinned, holding the extra weight as if it were nothing before the boy jumped gracefully out of her arms onto the ground.
 
“Mom! There you are! Were have you been?” The boy ran up and threw his arms around his mother.
 
Yumiko wrapped her own arms around her son and squeezed him tightly. “I was just getting tickets to the preliminaries. I thought you were still asleep!”
 
Tatsuha gave her a calculating look before he answered. “Just because we're on vacation does not mean I have to sleep till noon like I did when I was a teenager. I'm almost two hundred years old now. I think I can handle getting up early. Besides,” He grinned. “I'll miss all the post-tournament riots that break out over stolen tickets and such. I wanna win back the candy you snagged from me last year.” His eyes glinted.
 
Yumiko's own purple eyes rose heavenward as she put a hand on her son's shoulder and guided him back to the hotel. “You know, Tatsu-chan, I really shouldn't be encouraging behavior like this. Its bad for boys your age…” She trailed off, grinning, and ducked a well-aimed blow to her head. “Hey! No hitting your mother!” She poked him in the ribs; gaining more than a little amusement at the shriek it earned her.
 
“Moth<I>er</I>!” He cried indignantly before squirming away. “I'm not a kid and you know it!”
 
And she did. She was long past the point were the circumstances of Tatsuha's stunted growth caused any guilt or embarrassment. As he said in the few years after the incident, people underestimated him when he was so small. That often gave them the extra edge, which proved fatal to many of their opponents. Besides, although Yumiko would never say it out loud, she loved that she would have her son like this forever.
 
She laughed. “Yea, I know, but teasing you will never get old.” He groaned and rolled his eyes and she ruffled his hair good-naturedly. He pushed her away, but grinned as he started walking ahead.
 
“So mother dear, what's the plan?” He called over his shoulder.
 
“Well, I figured we'd go back to the hotel, eat, check out the teams, and then head down to the stadium for the matches. The opening ceremonies are boring anyway.”
 
“Sounds good. I'm starved. I think I'd like some cereal. And eggs. And sausage. And French toast, pancakes—“
 
Yumiko put her arm around her son and tugged him close to her. “Mind of an adult, body of a child, and stomach of a teenager,” She laughed. “C'mon titch, lets get going. I need to make sure my crossbow is working right. Remember last year when the guard wouldn't let us in and it stuck on me?”
 
Tatsuha snorted. “Yea, I thought you were going to sink into the floor with embarrassment. Of coarse, then he laughed at you. Good think you had your bow or you wouldn't have been able to kill him as spectacularly as you did” They laughed together at the memory, but then they were silent a couple minutes as they walked to the hotel. Tatsuha was the one who finally broke the silence.
 
“Hey, mom, you think we'll find dad here this year?”
 
Yumiko was silent for a moment. “I don't know hun.” She said quietly. “I hope so.”