Author's Notes: I am not dead, but niether am I truly living. You don't know me, so continue with the story & ignore my existance for now. However, remember if for the future when I updated. If I updated.
Disclaimer: Must I? Me own story. Me own life (or does me?). Me no own Inuyasha. Rumiko got dibs on him first.
Chapter One - A Matter of Luck
Pureblood - by Viitoria L.
Inuyasha was down on luck. He was down on money, too, but that was just a result of being down on the aforementioned. His feet ached, his muscles were sour, his stomach rumbled protests, and he was seeing in funny colors. And he had no money. Or luck.
That was what bothered him the most. Inuyasha was not a man used to being short on cash. In fact, he almost never left the house with less than five crisp new hundred-dollar bills tucked in his wallet, and a couple of small ones in his pockets for good measure. No, Inuyasha was the son of a multibillionaire, with an ego and an attitude to match.
So why was this son of a multibillionaire broke and wondering the streets in the worst part of town, scavenging for food?
He was down on luck, that's why. Damnit.
Exactly seven months, two weeks, five days, and a few hours ago, Inuyasha had burst into his father's study, demanding his inheritance ahead of time. His father, being a man of class, had taken one hard look at him with one eyebrow raised. Then, speaking no word whatsoever, he opened the hidden drawer behind the false paneling of the underside of his desk.
In less than fifteen minutes, Inuyasha was out the back gates of the rambling estate in his dark red Lamborghini, a couple thousand in hash lying in the back seat and two Platinum credit cards prepaid with a total of fifty million each and a wide grin on his face. Cheating the old man had been even easier than he'd originally thought.
Now with a load of cash and an ID tag braceleted to his arm as proof that he'd recently passed drinking age, the twenty-one year old hanyou was ready to stake out, and stay out, on his own. No more restrictions, parents, or pretty-boy older brothers for him again.
However, Inuyasha was not yet content.
The next few hours found him in various gambles, trying to double, or at least increase, his already plentiful bounties. Things went decently for the most of the afternoon, and he left the chain of casinos behind a couple thousand richer. But when you look at thing on the long run, a hundred million was a far cry from his father's billions and hardly enough for one aristocrat to survive a lifetime, nevertheless half a year on.
It was time to put it up for more dangerous stakes. Bigger, badder, and better things were what he needed. One name crossed his mind, Naraku. One place consumed his thoughts: the Underground.
The Underground was a hard place to find for a normal person. But Inuyasha's family were not normal—no, they were regulars. A powerful foundation in the land of Crime, as it was often called...but that had been quite long ago. While the Taisho's were still recognized and accepted on the darker side, they had generally switched to become legitimate. And in doing so, were able to openly become the wealthy aristocrats they were today.
The Underground was a smooth operation—not in any way the anarchy most of the world expected it to be. In fact, the Underground was the exact opposite of that.
The Underground had a republic. The Underground was a republic.
But the politics of it all were far from Inuyasha's mind the night he pulled up to 5435 Billiards Way. On the outside the building seemed to be a small, but clean-cut nightclub. In fact, it was a nightclub—a classy one. It just also happened to double as one of Tokyo's one-way admittance booths into the Land of Crime.
For him, it only took a smile and wink at the scantly clad woman out in front to make it to the entrance room. The room itself was another matter. Bulked-out bounces—youkai, most likely—stood guard in the shadowed nooks of the room. And there were a lot of shadowed nooks.
But Inuyasha was a frequenter. All he had to do was walk through that shrouded doorway and drop his keys into the hands of a waiting valet. In moments, a chauffer would arrive in his car, reading to escort him into the hidden city. So getting into the Underground was easy; it was the other part of it that phased the hanyou slightly: getting the Underground to part with a large chunk of money.
His ears twitching slightly, Inuyasha stepped down into what he expected to be a cave-like setting. To his surprise, he found a room of wooden paneling, chandeliers, and milling Lords. This was not at all like the last time he'd dropped by.
"Well, well, if it isn't Taisho's youngest." A cold chuckle sent a shiver of apprehension down his sine. He turned to face the man he'd come here to find.
Long dark locks fell freely down his back in the most recent style. Inuyasha's own platinum cascades were left in a similar fashion. But contrary to his own windbreaker (thrown casually over the first shirt he'd grabbed in the morning) this man's style just screamed eloquence. Swathed over in the latest black suede-leather combination of jacket and slacks and set off by black gloves and boots of some unfathomable material. Inuyasha's guess was that it was the skin of a once enemy. The man held a half-drained wine glass between two fingers in one hand, the other folded neatly behind his back. A curious smile graced his marble features.
"Hello—Naraku." Inuyasha did not like or trust the crime lord, but the youkai was the only one holding enough strings at the moment to get him what he wanted—and what he wanted was a lot of cash.
Naraku seemed to have the same thought on mind. "Short on cash, little hanyou?" He questioned in that softly lethal tone of his.
Inuyasha grimaced inwardly. He did not like the words 'little' and 'hanyou' strung together in a sentence. Especially so when it was used to refer to him. He let it slide silently this once. Anything was worth what he was supposedly going to get.
"No, I'm not short on cash. I just want some more of it."
"Ah." The curious smile was replaced by a light grin. "Go on. I'm listening."
A smile of his own stretched contently over fangs, Inuyasha pulled out his two new platinum cards with a flourish. "Totals ten hundred thousand. I have more tucked away. An early inheritance, you could call it."
The Crime Lord nodded knowingly. "I understand. You're looking to make a short term investment in the Underground?" The light grin turned feral, and a small twinkling gleam appeared in his eyes. "You've come at the right time, Taisho's son. Come, come..."
He put a brotherly arm around the younger demon and led him off towards a waiting valet. "You can take your delightful Lamborghini into the city some other time. Today I'm going to treat you to my own little pet."
Time seemed to pick up speed after that, Naraku having invited him to the annual dinner party of the Lords. "We are ever so pleased that a Taisho is again joining us after so long. Now tell me, little 'Yasha—how much exactly is that fortune of yours worth?"
His youkai sense twitched, but Inuyasha quickly overrode the warning with the incensement of his ego. "A lot," was his off-handed response. Most of his attentions were focused on eyeing the arriving food.
"Is it...secure?"
Inuyasha snorted. "Can a bird fly? I've got a the hundred mil for sure and a couple thousand in the car." He shrugged and returned to watching steaming plates of delicacies arrive through the double doors.
"Actually, there are a quite a few who can't fly..." Naraku drifted off, a predatory look on his face once again. Inuyasha would be fully and completely absorbed in the meal, as were many of the aristocracy of the Underground. The Crime Lord gave a small sniff of condescended. These Youkai were not worth his attentions, their minds governed by their appetites. Disgusting, really. No poise at all. But perhaps that would be for the better of his plan.
The meal proceeded without a hitch—anything planned by Naraku would have to. Inuyasha was so immersed in the new flavors that he, again like the larger half of the lords, took no notice when Naraku stood up and exited. The few that saw took no interest in it—Naraku was always a shady character, even for one of the head of the leading branches of the crime network.
Which was why next stage came in such surprise.
Halfway through the meal, a lull entered the room. The distinct click of the lock pulled the residents into confusion. "Greetings." The intercom had come on smoothly.
Inuyasha's eyes narrowed. He recognized the voice. According the murmuring from the others, they did as well. "Naraku," hissed the snake youkai to his right.
The voice on the speakers laughed. It was a cold one. "Glad you recognize me. But that's beside the point..."
What ensured beyond that point Inuyasha was still reeling from the aftermath of. An army of Naraku's hoard had descended into the room, out numbering and out maneuvering those there, powerful as they were. Or perhaps it helped that the food had been drugged. For whatever reason, youkai and human lords alike were dropping lifelessly to the ground. The stench of blood filled Inuyasha's awareness and he himself sought to dodge out of the slaughter.
It had all been a blur. One moment he was fighting for his life, the next moment found him cornered against a wall. Then he was out cold. As his youkai male's pride would later remember as a fight to the finish, the real truth was that he was plainly surprised and sluggish from the potency of the wine.
When he finally did come to, he was left for dead in one of the many concaves in the Underground's sewer system. The sewers were also known for their mazelike appearance and the perfect ground for getting rid of dead bodies.
And dead bodies there were, as his over-sensitive nose informed him the moment he was jerked from the searing darkness he had been immersed in
Groggily, he stood up. Something wet was dripping down his neck. Reaching up, he was met by a shock of pain and blood. The better part of his throat had been ripped. It was amazing that he was alive, nevertheless conscious.
After much examination, he found all else intact. Perhaps the youkai minion of Naraku's had cut him and thought him dead. The wound was more on his collarbone than on the actual neck itself. A centimeter or two higher and it probably would have really killed him. He frowned…
A name flashed through his mind. "Naraku!"
It came out more of a gasp of pain than a name, but it filled and ousted all thoughts. The bastard had planned this and he had stepped straight into it! He checked his back pocket for the familiar bulge of his wallet: it wasn't there. So that was it...
It was not for betrayal—he'd done and experienced that enough not to faze him—nor was it for the near encounter with death, or even his own foolishness than he dropped to his knees. It was not for pain nor exhaustion or hopeless ness that the first of the tears formed. It was not for the piles of dead he had been left with, caught unknowingly in the middle of the upheaval of the Underground Republic he sobbed for.
No, it was for the fortune he'd lost.
After all, gold is power, and loosing the equivalent of it stripped him powerless. It was what Naraku wanted—power.
Inuyasha steeled himself. Fine. If the world didn't like him, he wouldn't like the world either. But it had left him life, and he was going to make the most of his situation. And a situation like this called for more than revenge.
It took some time, but he had miraculously found a way of the sewers without too much trouble. What he had trouble with, was an entirely different matter.
Revenge was a demanding mistress, Inuyasha soon realized. For one thing, revenge required you know where you are. Revenge required the more elegant of dress, food to fill a stomach, a plan, and a never-ending list of other equally unreachable items.
Inuyasha lacked all this and more, so soon, thoughts of revenge deserted and the thought of filling his growling stomach prevailed. Yet even then his pride would not let him stoop so low as to beg. Scavenge in dumps, yes, but not beg. Never.
Weary feet dragged him to the corner of the city he currently resided in. It was a dirty city; some obscure place no one ever heard about—or cared about. The rusting buildings towered over the streets, spewing smog of the same color. No one called it by name, and few dared wander the streets. Those that did were as bedraggled as he, and no one gave a second glance at his once brilliant hair, now darkened and dirtied by the soot and grime. No, he fit right in the citizens of this forsaken place.
Inuyasha sighed, scanning his surroundings again. Strange blurs of color flashed, only seen by his quickly tiring eyes. He was at the southern edge of the city. Any further out would have placed him in the middle of a barren wasteland even more desolate than here. When he had first emerged from the sewers, it was there he had surfaced. Perhaps there was something for him there. Something to help him get away from here--or even better, get something for him to eat. Even the most downtrodden restaurant here didn't cater to those without even two pennies to rub together.
Taking a breath to stabilize his demanding hunger, he stepped into what he'd heard a passing woman refer to as 'No Man's Land'. He took a few unsteady steps in, expecting something to happen. Nothing did.
More steps led him deeper, showing that the inner parts of the grounds were just as discarded and bare of plant life as the outer fringes. His youkai senses were twitching--not in just any forbearing way, but to alert him of danger. Danger that cut years off the end of even Youkais' lives.
Regarding the items around him, he took a guess: this place was a radioactive dump. A nuclear wasteland. Staying too long in this place would steadily steal away minutes of his lifeline. Long as it was, he didn't want to risk too much of it.
But he was hungry, and hunger always dulled the senses. Paired with the deadly chemicals of this godforsaken desert, he was soon reeling from nausea rivaling that of his recently live-down experience. Still, he walked on.
A few moments later, he stopped. A large rock stood in his way and his already drooping vision had somehow contrived to turn everything a strange shade of green. Plant green, with little white mushroom caps peaking from the would-be moss. With a shaking hand, Inuyasha reached out and grabbed it, uprooting it from it's rocky bed with a small pop. Mouth opened, he moved to place the whole fungus between his molars.
It was then that his sight decided to turn fluorescent on him, and all color drained to become a rather slickly shade of vibrant neon green. Needless to say, the mushroom was all but forgotten. The rock-turned-jello container before him now captivated his entire attention. For inside it floated an unclothed girl.
Just his luck.
Author's Notes. Hope you liked. ;)