Sakura Jazmine: Hello every1! I am baaaaaaaaack! With a new story, nonetheless! I hope u all enjoy it!
Sesshomaru: Why would they? This story also does not include me, so why-
SJ: YOU SHUTTUP! I DIDN'T ASK FOR YOUR INPUT, MISTER!
Sesshomaru: ………………sweatdrop
SJ: Ah…pardon me, I do apologize…heh heh heh……Okay, before I begin this new story, I have to say thanks to my good buddy Katherine for giving me the inspiration to write this fic.
Disclaimer: I do not own Inu-Yasha or any of the characters from the series…but I do own Mika and her parents.
Chapter One- An Accident
"Miku! That sack needs to go in the wagon! No! Take over THERE, not to the house! And watch out for that-"
"ACK!"
". . .hole."
"Miku. . ."
"Eh heh. . .sorry Father, I didn't see it . . .this sack is a bit taller than myself, you see, and I'm afraid my poor little eyes couldn't manage to see around it. . ."
Sasuke Kikomori sighed heavily. His daughter's complete lack of sense astounded him to no end. And now, he would be stuck loading 400 pounds of rice into their horse-drawn wagon all by himself. He was going to throw his back out again for sure. . .
"Ah, that's alright my daughter. It was not your fault. It was an accident." He assured her, and set down the sack he'd had in his hands to walk over to his fallen child. "Can you stand?" he asked, taking Miku's hand and helping her up. She shakily rose to her feet and shook off his hand, but as soon as her father let go of her hand, she collapsed back onto the ground.
". . . greeaaatt. . Now I can't even WALK…" she grumbled. "Stupid, dumb holes, always gettin' in the way . . . you should all just die and leave my poor feet alone. . ."
Sasuke laughed. His daughter might have been lacking in the common sense department, but she could always make him smile. He bent down and gathered Miku up in his arms and proceeded toward their small house near the edge of the surrounding forest.
"No no no, Father! You can't carry me! You'll hurt your back again! I'm far too fat to be carried around like this! Put me down! Put me DOWN, I say!"
Sasuke ignored her easily, and kept walking. Honestly, she worried about him far too much. And what on this Earth was all that nonsense about her being fat . . .?
Pushing open the bamboo drape that served in place of a door with one shoulder and fitting his struggling child in through the doorway, Sasuke strode to one of the small cots at the back of their small cottage and dumped Miku onto the nearest one. She sat up and crossed her arms over her chest, deciding to sit and pout rather than attempt to fix her twisted ankle.
"I could've walked here by MYSELF, Father." She griped.
Sasuke let out a bark of laughter. "And not twist your other ankle in the process? I think not."
"I wouldn't have hurt my other ankle! Here, I'll show you-"
Miku started to stand up, but was shoved back onto the bed by her father, who then began to wrap her ankle in a section of thick cloth he had just found in his wife's old chest of drawers.
"Now sit still, Miku. I need to wrap this, or it will not heal correctly."
"Fi-ine. . ."
As soon as Sasuke was done, Miku pulled her foot back and set it on the floor, preparing to stand. As she did so, searing pain shot through her entire leg, causing her to fall back onto the bed, clutching her injured ankle. Her father looked at her, arms crossed, with a look that said 'I knew that was going to happen, you should listen to your old man more'. Miku sighed.
"How am I going to help in the fields now, Father? I can't walk!"
"You will not be helping, daughter. You are going to sit inside and wait for your ankle to heal while I load the rest of the rice and take it into town. Now be a good girl and STAY." He told her, placing one hand on her head.
Miku brushed it off and smirked. "I am no dog, Father." She said.
Sasuke smiled and ruffled his daughter's white-blonde hair. She reminded him entirely too much of her mother.
"No, you are my little Snow Angel."
Miku's honey-brown eyes sparkled warmly at the mention of the nickname her mother had given her years ago . . . before she died. . . The name referred to the odd, white hair that Miku had inherited from her mother's family. Supposedly, Shiori's father (Miku's grandfather) had been from a distant land where everyone had light-colored hair. Miku didn't believe THAT, of course. She supposed that she had just been struck by lightning or something . . . and however unlikely that was, she believed it more than stories of a strange distant land with white-haired people. Places like that simply couldn't exist!
With that, Sasuke turned and walked back out the door, returning to his rice fields to finish loading.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A few hours had passed quietly, Sasuke heaving sack after sack of rice into the wagon and Miku attempting to find some form of entertainment. So far, she had tried bird watching through the small cottage window (the window wasn't nearly big enough), sleeping (she wasn't tired), throwing small objects at an imaginary target on the wall (ran out of stuff to throw), and finally singing different folk songs (ran out of songs to sing).
After several minutes of silence passed in succession to her latest failed attempt to kill boredom, Miku threw her hands up in exasperation.
"I GIVE UP!" she cried. "There is NOTHING to do!"
"Miku?" her father called from outside. "Is everything all right in there?"
"Er, yes, Father. . ."
That being said, Miku flopped backwards onto the little cot she had been confined to for what seemed like days on end. She closed her eyes for a moment, and when she reopened them, she was greeted with the sight of her mother's chest of drawers. It was a beautiful piece of furniture- deep red wood covered in intricate carvings and small bits of a shiny, gold metal. There were only two drawers, and the feet of the chest were carved to resemble cat's feet.
Suddenly struck with an idea, Miku scooted over to the end of her bed. Leaning over, she yanked open the chest as silently as she could so as not to alert her father. Miku had never been allowed to look inside the chest; not even when her mother had been alive. Perhaps there was something interesting to see in there.
When she had pulled the drawer as far out as she could, Miku peered inside, expecting to see some sort of ancient magic books or perhaps piles of rare and valuable jewelry and treasure. But neither was the case.
Instead, the chest drawer was filled with a bunch of old, ratty looking papers and a few pieces of fabric visible here and there. Miku's face fell slightly. So this was to rescue her from utter boredom?
Sighing heavily, Miku began to sift through the contents of the drawer, seeing nothing except papers with writing and occasionally ink drawings on their front sides and intricate seals decorating the backsides. But when she reached the bottom of the drawer, she spotted a folded dress. She took it out and held it up to see, and gasped. It was the most gorgeous kimono she had ever laid eyes on. It was long, and mostly white, with silver and pink sakura flowers patterned on it in several places. Looking back down into the drawer, Miku spotted a light pink sash, along with about a dozen other pieces for which Miku did not know the name of.
This must have been her wedding dress, Miku decided. As she gazed at it, something struck her. Was she to wear this at her own wedding? Not that she was complaining or anything, but it just looked so. . . delicate and beautiful. Miku knew she would never look right in such an incredible dress. She simply wasn't the beauty her mother was. . .
Carefully, Miku replaced the dress from where she had found it. She closed the drawer, and opened the other one. More papers. And. . . a pipe? Over to the right side of the drawer rested a dark wooden smoking pipe. Miku ran a finger along it, and found that the wood was very smooth and polished, with small vines carved into it. She smiled. It was her grandfather's, she knew. Miku couldn't count how many stories her mother had told her about her grandfather and his pipe. . . He used to love this pipe, she remembered.
Suddenly, a glint of silver caught her eye. Moving a few old scrolls out of the way, Miku found the source of the mysterious glint.
It was a long flute; made of silver with different-colored ribbons tied to each end. Although it was clearly old, the flute still shone as bright as moonlight, and Miku could almost see her reflection in it. Picking it up, Miku raised it to her mouth and blew downward into the hole. A high-pitched whistle sounded, clear as crystal, and it echoed around the room. Miku jumped, and jerked it down into her lap, and then tucked it away in her belt, cutting off the sound so as not to alert her father.
But, surprisingly, no sound came from outside. No call from her father, or even the sounds of him dumping the rice into the creaky old wagon. She had been so absorbed in her mother's old belongings, she had been oblivious to the rest of the world.
Confused, Miku slowly rose, and cautiously put her weak foot forward and rested her weight on it. Finding that it did not ache so much as it had earlier, Miku continued to limp forward to the front door. For once, Miku was actually glad for the small size of their cottage- it would have been an absolute nightmare to have to limp any farther.
Slowly pushing the bamboo shades out of her way, Miku peered outside.
All was quiet . . . and her father was nowhere to be seen. And neither was the rice! As Miku stared in shock at the empty cart, something caught her eye. She turned her head to the side very, very slowly, hoping and praying it was only her father.
To her horror, Miku found that it was her father.
There, about five feet from the horse cart, lay Miku's father, covered in blood. Dead.
Miku gasped loudly and her hands shot up to her mouth and tears began to well up in her eyes. She willed herself not to cry, but her efforts were in vain. Hot tears slid down her face.
This cannot be, she thought squeezing her eyes shut. Suddenly, Miku found it hard to breathe. He can't be dead! Not him too! Miku's heart felt like it was being torn in half at the sight of her father's mangled body. For a moment, her brain refused to accept what her eyes told her, but she was not able to deny the truth for long.
Her pain temporarily forgotten, Miku sprinted to her father's side, collapsing to her knees in the blood soaked soil. Miku cupped his weathered face in her trembling hands. A single, glittering tear dropped from Miku's cheek and fell onto the edge of her father's own, glazed eye, still opened wide in fear. It slid down his temple, as if it had been his own tear.
Abruptly, Miku was jerked back into reality by the sound of voices behind her. She turned, long hair flipping to the side.
Not more than fifteen feet from her position stood two men, clothed in the attire of a samurai, loading her father's rice onto their horses. Their heads were turned toward Miku, although they seemed to be having a difficult time focusing their eyes on her. Miku realized these men must be drunk . . . and they had stolen her father's rice! And they- they killed him. . . they killed her father. . .
Miku knew that there were two, full-grown men with swords, and only one of her with no weapon to speak of. She knew they were drunk, and that they would have no mercy on a skinny, 15 year old girl like her. She knew, yes. But she didn't care.
Miku stood and raised herself to her full height, which wouldn't have been all that imposing on any other day. But this day was different. These men had taken her life and torn it in two. Miku's eyes ignited with painful fury, even as tears stained her dust covered cheeks. Anger left no room for fear as the two men began to approach Miku, smiling stupidly and reaching their arms out to her. Miku closed her eyes, and bent her head. Her pain threatened to erupt from inside her, and it was ripping her apart.
"WHY!" she cried suddenly, her voice high-pitched and hoarse. She slammed her uninjured foot on the ground and snapped her head back up to face the samurai. She narrowed her tear-filled eyes, and if she had been paying any attention, Miku might have noticed that her body was outlined in a faint golden hue.
"LEAVE ME ALONE! GO AWAY!" she screamed, and quite to her surprise, they obeyed. Although, she suspected they didn't comply of their own accord. As soon as Miku had shrieked out her desperate command, the two warriors were stopped in their tracks and thrown bodily almost twenty feet backwards. One crashed straight into his poor horse (who whinnied and took off, spilling rice sacks everywhere), but the other somehow managed to land on his feet. . . Miku immediately dropped her tense posture, and stared at the man, lost for words. What in the world had just caused that man to be hurled backwards like a throwing ball? . . . And how in the world had he managed to land on his feet?
As she stared at the man, her eyes traveled to his chest- where three small blade points protruding from the man's armor glinted in the afternoon sun. Miku's eyes widened as the man crumpled to the ground; revealing a third man. The new man lowered his arm slowly, and began to walk toward Miku.
Miku took an instinctive step backwards, nearly putting her bare foot down on her father's lifeless hand. She caught herself, but in the process of avoiding her father's hand, she stumbled and fell on top of his body. She began to tremble with fear- all her previous bravado having vanished. She flung her arm around her father's chest and hid her face against it.
"Oi! Kodomo 1! Be not afraid, I am not here to harm you!" the man called out in a kind voice. It was a friendly enough voice that Miku felt it was safe to raise her head, just barely, to look at the man.
He was clad in a version of a samurai's armor- only a bit lighter. The armor itself was dark brown in color and the kimono underneath was dark blue. He wore a light green sash around his waist, and covers on his forearms that seemed to be part of his armor. The man's hair wasn't very long, and dark in color. But the most interesting features on this unknown warrior were his facial marking. Across his cheeks and down his forehead there were bright green stripes, the same color as the man's sash. Miku found herself staring at them before she could stop herself, though she knew it was rude to stare.
Although he was not old, the man appeared to be at least late twenties or so, and was not ugly, but not particularly handsome either. Miku hoped beyond hope that he was not hostile. .
Finally, the man quit walking, and stopped about two feet in front of Miku. She lowered her eyes as a sign of respect, in case this man was someone of importance. It was then that she saw the three-bladed claws the man held in each of his hands. Claws that were covered in the samurai's blood.
The man spoke to her again, and his voice was kind and soft.
"You have no reason to look away from me, child." He reassured her. Embarrassed, Miku raised her head and looked him in the eyes. Despite his somewhat alarming appearance, the warrior wore a kind smile on his face, and his eyes reflected the grin. Miku, for some reason, felt compelled to smile back, and a soft smile graced her lips. He extended a hand to her, and Miku accepted it.
As she was helped to her feet, Miku almost fell over again, but the strange man caught her back. He laughed.
"Seems you've got a bit of a weak ankle problem there, kid." He commented. Miku sighed.
"I'm sorry," she said very softly. "I'm afraid I hurt it earlier. . ."
"Well, then," he said, suddenly bending down and hoisting her up in his arms (much to her surprise), "I suppose I'll just have to carry you."
"What! Carry me! To where? Who are you? Put me down! Put me DOWN!" Miku yelped frantically.
For the second time that day, Miku found herself being carried unwillingly. But this time, she was not even able to struggle much- the man was quite strong and was not allowing her much room for protest. Her fear having returned, Miku almost began to cry again.
"Hey, now! I'm not gonna hurt you! Take it easy!"
"Then what do you want with me?"
"Calm yourself! I'm a doctor, I'm gonna patch your ankles up correctly!"
Almost immediately, Miku stopped fighting.
"D-Doctor . . .?" she stuttered.
"Yes . . . in a way. And I am gonna take you back to my. . . comrades, I guess you could call them. We're gonna fix you up, I promise. I swear- I'm not here to hurt you." The man told her. Miku looked down, her tension gone. Something in the man's voice made her believe him. . . even though she knew she shouldn't.
"I don't want any help. . . I wish to be left with my father."
The man stopped walking instantly and stared down into Miku's eyes.
"I'm terribly sorry about your father. Really, I am. But you must get that ankle fixed. It could be broken, and if it is, it could be seriously damaged if it isn't set soon."
Miku lowered her eyes in submission. "Okay then. . ." she agreed quietly. After a moment of silence while the doctor continued carrying Miku through the thick forest, Miku spoke again.
"Uhm . . . what exactly is your name, sir?"
The man smiled.
"My name is Suikotsu, kodomo."
To Be Continued. . .
1: Kodomo- child
SJ: So? SO? How do u like it? It was quite long, I know, and there wasn't even the sexy Bankotsu in there, but I promise he'll be in the next chapter. But until then, u must review! REVIEW, I TELL YOU! ;D