Warning: This is dark. Rated M to be safe. I don't want to give it away but mentions sex and dangerous relationships.
This story makes me nervous to put up. It's darker than anything I have written before.
I struggled with pronouns. I bet there are mistakes. I tried really hard with the whole 'your' and 'you're'. If you have read any of my other stories, you know that's one of my biggest mistakes.
~Honey
Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha
You thought you could save him. You honestly did. Because you really want that to be true. That someones past doesn't make them bad. That they could turn around.
He was your responsibility.
It starts when you recognize Sango. But it's not really her. It's her reincarnation. It's the way she stands, the way her hair is pulled up that you know it's her. Her hair is darker and shorter than what it was in the past. She's still as beautiful and you call out for her. But it's not really her. And she doesn't know who you are.
You don't mind though.
Because that would mean you have to face the fact that your Sango was dead.
But it makes you realize that others could have been reincarnated. You search for the others. But you don't find Inuyasha or Miroku. You have a small idea who Kouga is, a man in Kyoto. But you're not positive and you never approach him.
Then you find him. He attends the same college as you, two years above you. Nausea works its way into your stomach knowing he was around you for so long.
Naraku.
He's nothing like the skin he stole in Inuyasha's time. His hair is cut short to his scalp and his cheeks is soft. But in a way, handsome. He's young. You find he's quiet and doesn't really have friends.
But it's by his voice you know it's him. Its gravelly and strung low.
It makes you stomach turn.
So you decide to befriend him. Because you're convinced you can change him. You can help him.
You two meet. And he's strange. He's not friendly, but not rude. You're surprised. He's awkward like he's never really dealt with many people.
And you kind of enjoy it.
He's suspicious because you have no classes together. But then you smile and tell him it's because he's cute. His cheeks flush and he frowns.
You feel nauseous.
But you want to help him so you smile and laugh. You two have lunch together regularly, because you start out as friends. You watch him pick at the onigiri and listen to him explain his desire to be in stocks.
He's majoring in business and he bites at his nails as he talks. He doesn't make much eye contact but he's cutely shy.
He's so strangely normal to you that you think maybe you don't have to do anything. Maybe that disgusting monster of a man was a creation of his environment.
You start to like him. Because his comments are dry and under his breath. He makes you laugh. And soon you start forgetting why you were bent on changing him. Because he treats you so good. He looks at you with a very small smile and you feel amazing. He's kind and adores you.
He can't believe how fortunate to have you and you never got that with Inuyasha.
So you start loving him. Not how you loved Inuyasha. You're no longer a teenager. But the kind of love that ends with hot kisses and happy mornings. Mornings where he's brushing your hair away from your face.
He has a scar on his back. He says it was from a fire when he was 14.
You ask if you can touch it.
The skin has bubbled and burst, rippling and pinching. It looks less like a spider though. Or maybe to you it doesn't anymore.
You're laying in bed with him, his back towards you. You feel the ridges of the scar and it feels too soft.
You ask him if it hurt when it happened.
He says no since he had passed out. The firefighters found him before the rest of him burned.
You kiss it because you can't help but feel his past is only affecting you.
He kisses you awake and you laugh. He tells you he can't believe he has you. That you're so beautiful. You laugh and push him away, telling him you need to get ready. But instead he wraps his arms around your waist and holds you.
Then he tells you he feels like he's known you forever. Like you two have connected in a way he's never known. Your back is away from him and he lays behind you, spooning you. He kisses your neck.
You can't bring yourself to look at him. Instead you lay a hand over his that is on your hip bone.
You ask if he believes in past lives.
He laughs. He doesn't.
You tell him you don't either.
One day something changes. It is like any other start of the day. You kiss him goodbye, you go to your classes, then afterwards you head to your job. Then you call him to invite him over.
He says he saw you.
You ask why he didn't come say hi, jokingly.
He says you were talking to a man. You can hear he's upset.
You ask why he's so angry. You always talk to guys.
He was standing too close for just friends, he says. He didn't like it.
You tell him he's overreacting.
He starts to yell. He says you're unfaithful. That he can't trust you. He starts cursing the man. The man was trying to steal her away.
Then it gets worse. He's no longer yelling. He's silent.
You ask him if he's still there.
He says he is.
You ask what's wrong with him.
Then he states he hates it. Hates when you talk to other guys.
His voice gets quiet. Real quiet. It sounds like he's mumbling when he says he hates competition. That he won't allow it.
You feel your heart racing. Your palms becomes sweaty . You're scared. Scared of him.
You tell him there's no competition.
He comes over after that. He's apologizing and saying he loves you.
He says he's jealous and can't help it.
You're so amazing and he's never been with someone so great.
The hand that gripping your arm hurts but you know he doesn't mean to hurt you.
He doesn't want to lose you. He looks so sad and you forgive him because he means it. You hold him and tell him no one will take you away. That you would never hurt him.
He promises he would never hurt you. And he means it.
It doesn't stop there.
The two of you are at lunch. And you've forgotten about the strange phone call. You're happy again. You ask how his classes are going. And he tells you about one of his professors. A financial accounting class. How the professor is singling him out.
Making him look stupid.
He wouldn't do that, you tell him.
He does, he snaps.
He's jealous, he tells you.
You tell him that he's being silly. That maybe the professor may not favor him but doesn't hate him. He's livid.
He says he hates that professor. That if an accident happened to him, he wouldn't care. He's says it so quietly and nonchalantly, you don't take note of it.
You smile and put a hand over his own. He smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes.
You take no notice when he mentions a new professor for Financial accounting.
When you ask what happened to the old one, he shrugs and you brush off the way the edges of his lips curling upwards.
It's when he talks about his father, do you really see it. He never has mentioned him until recently. He frowns and looks like he wants to vomit.
He abandoned his mother and himself when he was younger. Left them to die. His mother was sick and died only a few years after his father left. He was left bouncing through foster homes until graduating.
He doesn't say much about him. A few words. They're low and you barely hear them.
He hates him. He wants him dead.
And when you looks into his eyes, you see he means it. Really means it.
And he wants to be the one that kills his father.
Then the sickening feeling in your stomach is back.
You thought you could save him. You really did. You thought he wouldn't turn out like his past self. You realize then, Naraku will always be Naraku.
You kiss him and fall into bed. He worships you and squeezes you tight. He tells you he wouldn't be anything without you. He can't live without you. You smile and kiss him. Then he falls asleep and you lay awake. Your ceiling seems too low. The walls too close.
And you know what you have to do.
Because you can't have another Naraku in the world.
So you brush your fingers against his cheek and kiss him again.
There's muffling sounds. You feel him struggle underneath you. He fights to the point his finger nails make your arms bleed. But you don't lift the pillow until he's done kicking and thrashing.
You really thought you could saved him. It was your responsibility. He was your responsibility in this life or the next.
It will always be your responsibility. And you must be his savior.