Powerless, an inuyasha fanfic

I have no idea why I wrote an Inuyasha fic. Inuyasha has steadily been driving me towards homicide for the past x years. I suppose that since Jakotsu is the one character I have no problem with, I chose to dedicate something to him… I'm sure he wouldn't appreciate it. Anyway, beware that this story changes events that actually happened in the manga. I'm sure that plenty of you wouldn't even care, but it's something that kind of gets under my skin, so it felt a little weird writing this. Either way, I hope you enjoy. Keep in mind that this is either noncon or dubcon. If that makes you nervous, you may leave.

Powerless

Life—a sorry, fleeting thing. Once lost, it teases and torments with final replays of moments remembered, until it withers like a dying flame and steps aside so that death may lull its victim into silent eternity. Twice lost, its pleasures and passions simply fail to excite.

Unmoving, on the ground, a warrior recently fallen; the shadow of death misted over Jakotsu's eyes; the Grim Reaper's fingers lightly stroked his brow. His vision blurred. What breath he had left came in barely intelligible labors; they were hardly his own, for he was spared only by the power of the shikon shard, still embedded in his throat.

Distantly he heard approaching footsteps, and a figure emerged from the darkness before him. Jakotsu weakly peered at it, and was able to perceive only through the edges of his irises his brother Renkotsu. Jakotsu's brother stopped just before him and glanced down at him in his pitiable state.

"So Inuyasha was able to take you down after all, brother?" Renkotsu said disinterestedly. Jakotsu, unable to reply, could only continue to stare up at him. Defeated as he was, Jakotsu could feel only humiliation as Renkotsu pinned him with an icy stare. He was lying on his back, exposed and vulnerable, bloodied and broken. His body was splashed with his own blood—an irony, considering he'd desired to be covered in another's. Beside him lay his severed arm, sliced from his forearm by the powerful blast from his opponent's blade. His clothing lied tattered and shredded around him. Jakotsu carried no foolish idealisms that his brother was here to save him, not quiet, power-hungry Renkotsu.

Presently Renkotsu had knelt by his side and touched his fingertips to Jakotsu's flesh. "You're weak," he said quietly to Jakotsu. "You couldn't hold your own in battle…How sad. You're useless, Jakotsu."

Jakotsu's dizzying mind scarcely processed the abuse. His skin shivered slightly as Renkotsu's fingers came in contact with each new area, a physical repulsion toward an action he otherwise couldn't perceive. Vaguely he felt them slip beneath the bit of clothing that hadn't yet been stripped of him, but his inability to respond overcame any other thought, and Jakotsu ignored it.

"You failed, Jakotsu," Renkotsu went on, beginning to push the remaining cloth off of his fallen brother. "Hmph. Makes everything easier for me." He'd brushed the rubble off of Jakotsu's chest, revealing white skin stained by small spatters of blood. He continued downward, exposing Jakotsu's shapely hips and slender legs. For someone who loathed females as strongly as Jakotsu did, he sure went through pains to make himself look like one. As the final scraps of Jakotsu's clothing joined those lying near him on the ground, Renkotsu at last met his brother's empty gaze and seemed to sense his hateful thoughts.

"No need to become aggressive, Jakotsu. I'm only trying to rub it in." He savagely pressed his lips against Jakotsu's, grabbing hold of a lock of soft black hair as they collided.

Jakotsu's steadily vanishing heartbeat jumped for an instant, his eyes widening for the quickest moment. Renkotsu leaned into him, gripping Jakotsu's hip with the hand that was as of yet unoccupied. A startled gasp broke against Renkotsu's mouth, induced by a shockwave of fragmented pain originating from a gaping wound in Jakotsu's side, only a short distance above Renkotsu's hand.

Renkotsu sneered as he pushed himself up again. His hand slid down Jakotsu's body, skirting around the bloody lacerations that stood in the way. It felt good, holding absolute control over this strange, pretty, ostentatious little brat. His sneer deepened slightly as a deliciously cruel idea pervaded his thoughts.

Jakotsu slowly moved his eyes down toward Renkotsu. He had felt his brother's hand begin to fondle him and wasn't sure he appreciated the gesture. Still lightheaded from blood loss, he thought he sensed Renkotsu moving his legs into a position he knew too well, but incapacitated as he was, he could only wait until he surely felt Renkotsu split him open.

His only reaction was a shocked, horrified facial expression, supplementing a silent scream that no one else could hear. Renkotsu was rocking mercilessly against him; gasps and other nearly inaudible sounds were Jakotsu's only indication that he was aware of the sensations. Protests were too much to utter.

Renkotsu fastened his hold on Jakotsu's body, his condescending gaze on Jakotsu's face. He could tell Jakotsu was suffering; it was cute, really. He savored each of Jakotsu's incoherent moans with sick delight. This was sweet, sweet vengeance—for what, Jakotsu probably wouldn't know. But with each breath he stole from Jakotsu, each time he made his victim hurt, Renkotsu derived assurances of power and treacherous superiority. And it felt damn good.

Rage swept through Jakotsu's mind, focused primarily on his pathetic situation. Had he the ability to at least move, to respond, he could have consented to the treatment and enjoyed a final carnal pleasure before his second life was lost to him; instead he would die violated, undignified, unwilling. Another gasp was forced from him with another of Renkotsu's sensual movements and was drawn out as Jakotsu's torn back arched a little. Jakotsu gritted his teeth. This was unforgivable.

Renkotsu laughed coldly. He peered down at his brother with malice in his eyes, smirking at the fury he saw in those of the other. "What, Jakotsu? Did you think that Bankotsu's favoritism toward you would act as protection? Feh. All it does for you is make me despise you more." He drove himself deeper into Jakotsu, his efforts rewarded by another submissive groan. "I could never stand our 'eldest brother,' you see. He was always considered our leader, the strongest among us, the best… I resented that." Another distressed exclamation from Jakotsu before Renkotsu continued, "And to top it all off, his favorite of the remaining six of us was an arrogant little whore like you."

Renkotsu could see the surprise in Jakotsu's eyes as he comprehended Renkotsu's meaning. He was being used as nothing more than Renkotsu's weapon of revenge against Bankotsu. "Ohh…" Jakotsu breathed, sorrow instantly dominating the earlier confusion in his eyes. Renkotsu finished with his act of vengeance, but Jakotsu's agony was still dragged out, unrelenting.

Bankotsu… he thought. Bankotsu… I'm sorry…

Crawling back up Jakotsu's mutilated form, Renkotsu whispered into his ear, "Thanks for your help, you harlot."

Worse than the physical pain and mental torture, worse than the obligation to acknowledge his polluted body, was the feeling that somehow he had assisted Renkotsu in betraying Bankotsu, his comrade, his soul mate, his brother in arms. He, the only one Bankotsu had ever actually trusted.

Kissing him a last time, Renkotsu said, "Sorry, Jakotsu, but I need this." He trailed his lips down Jakotsu's neck and bit out the shard in his throat. A final look into Jakotsu's eyes revealed despairing tears, expressions of his bottomless sorrow that didn't have time to fall before Jakotsu's body dissipated into nothing but dust.