Underneath the Crescent Moon

AUTHOR: Angelhart
GENRE: romance/hurt/comfort
STORY: continuation
RATING: M
CHARACTERS: Izayoi and Inu no Taisō, Sesshōmaru's mother, Takemaru, Sesshōmaru.
DISCLAIMER: InuYasha ©2000 Rumiko Takahashi/Shogakukan - Yomiuri TV - Sunrise
All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.


Chapter 2

In a corner of the high walls surrounding the estate there was a small door, leading to a path down the mountain. A stairway to an old shrine. She descended the long stairs with a heavy heart. Her father had remained in bed today and it seemed he had made peace with his fate. Knowing that his daughter would be safe he was ready to die. As she had passed his house, she had noticed lord Setsuna kneeling by her father's bed. The two men in conversation.

The old woman, her new maid, had told her about the shrine and Izayoi had decided that she would visit it to pray for her father's health. Or at least a peaceful passing without any pain.

She looked up to the torii gate and bowed before it. Avoiding the center, she entered the sacred grounds of the shrine.

It seemed long forgotten. Nature trying to take back what mankind had stolen. The building covered in green and the path towards it, covered in moss. Yet somehow it made it even more serene.

She walked towards the temizuya and placed her tray with offerings on a rock close to it. She admired the dragon statue close to it before she cleansed her hands and mouth. As she placed back the ladle she looked at her reflection in the water. Her hair piece showing the symbol of the House of Setsuna. Another gift. The reminiscence of her family's clan was already slowly fading. And when her father would come to pass and she would bare the fruit of the union of the clans, her house would become nothing more than a distant memory.

The Setsuna clan was powerful and feared. Known for their resilience against the authority of the gods. And it would remain a mystery to her how her father, a god loving man, had formed an alliance with a family who would, if need be, defy the gods. So, it wasn't odd that this shrine seemed abandoned. Perhaps it was because both lords had lost their wives during child birth. One sought solace in the notion she would be in a better place, amongst the gods. One blamed the deities for taking her away, calling them out to face him and fight.

The gods never came.

To neither of them…

And she realized that they might not come to hear her prayer either. Would this place cause her to lose faith as well? She looked at the building covered in branches and leaves. As she looked up she noticed the cord of the bell had been removed. Like an announcement of blasphemy. If the gods had forsaken this place, what was her family's chance for redemption?

Then, as she ascended the steps to the building, she noticed something.

Blood.

There was blood on the steps. And as she took off her zori she followed the path of droplets al the way to the entrance and even inside of the shrine. Dark red drops on the tiles.

Izayoi felt her heart beating faster. Her first instinct told her to turn around and run. But looking at the tray in her hands and the offerings she felt obligated to complete the sacrificial ritual. The altar was just in front of her.

Maybe it had been an animal. Taking precocious steps, she only noticed those few drops. Nothing more. She placed the tray on top of the altar and bowed respectfully. Using the fire stones, she lit up both candles that stood on either side. Folding her hands, she softly spoke the prayer words and stepped back. Although she tried to focus on the words her head was drawn automatically towards the stains on the floor. The gods would not be pleased about that.

Then she noticed something else. Against one of the walls something was reflecting the flames of the candles. Something metal. She walked towards it. It was a large sword. A strange looking sheathed blade with a large jewel imbedded at the end of the handle. When her hand reached out to it a male voice suddenly spoke.

"Don't touch it. It will consume you."

She spun around, but there was no one she could see that belonged to the voice. "Who's there?" she asked firmly, ordering the one to reveal himself.

Silence.

Common sense told her to leave the shrine immediately, but an anger rose from within her. Someone had defiled this place.

"Please you must leave. The gods have been angered. This is a holy place." She looked around, her eyes having trouble to focus in the dim light. Placing her back against the altar she tried to pinpoint the location of the shrine's inhabitant.

"Go away."

She was startled by the audacity in the tone of his voice, but now she had a good idea where to find him. She walked towards the right dark corner behind the altar. Behind it she noticed more blood. A huge amount of it next to a strange armor that was resting on the floor. Bone plates with spikes upon them. Nothing like she had seen before in the armor the samurai were wearing. She could understand the purpose though. To intimidate an opponent and those spikes could easily split a man's skull in half.

She gasped.

Perhaps she should have fled by now. However nurturing instinct overwhelmed that flight instinct that meant survival. The man was obviously hurt. And considering the huge amount of blood she saw behind the platform it weren't just simple cuts. Her anger that one had trespassed and entered the holy shrine dissipated. She could understand the logic reasoning that when hurt one would seek refuge. And although it's purpose was not that, the shrine obviously provided a perfect shelter.

She could see him. The shape of him. He was sitting on the floor against the back wall. One knee bent upwards and an arm resting upon it. She couldn't see his face for his head seemed limp as his chin rested on his chest. Long hair bound together with blue pins. A trail of blood on the floor leading to where he sat.

"Please, you are injured. Come with me to the castle. There are healers there."

The man didn't reply and for a moment she thought he had died for he didn't move and was so silent. Then there was a soft grunt from him and some movement in his limbs. Perhaps, she thought, he couldn't move and relocate somewhere else. She doubted she had the strength to support him and it would even be highly inappropriate for her to do so. She found herself in a predicament. His presence would anger the gods. She would have to pray for their forgiveness. But she was even more doubtful of the help of Setsuna's men. Would he feel obliged to help a stranger? Or would he think of the man as a threat and kill him on the spot?

If she couldn't move him, she could aid him. Her eyes were drawn to the blood once more. He had already defiled the place there was nothing more that could be done about that. She walked back to the altar and grabbed the bowl of water that was placed upon it. Bowing she spoke a few prayer words in hope the gods would pardon her. She could only hope they would be merciful and understanding.

She walked towards him and squatted down. He didn't look up. She noticed the slow movements of his chest. Heavy breathing as if pained. It was pity that made her move her hands to the outer layer of her kimono and moved it so she could reach one of the inner layers. The sound of ripping fabric drew his attention. Unnoticed by her, the man's head tilted slightly.

Forgive me father, she voiced inside her head, knowing she would have to explain the teared-up kimono later on. She folded the fabric and dipped it into the bowl of water. When her hand moved towards him her wrist was suddenly grabbed. She released air in a shocked gasp as she noticed the sharp claws that were an extension of his fingers. Instinctively she pulled on her hand, but she wasn't released. She wanted to scream as the man raised his head and her eyes gazed upon the blue markings, only her voice had left her. Like a lightning bolt they marked his face. One on each side. Gold yellow animal eyes pierced through her.

In her mind she could still scream.

"You should have left."

Yes, she should have paid heed to his warning. Why hadn't she? "Please…" she pleaded although she didn't know why. To end her life quickly? To release her? Now that he leaned forward she could see him more perfectly. A face almost feminine, his kimono pushed back over his shoulders to reveal a slim build, yet muscled chest. A large deep cut that went from his left shoulder towards his abdomen. Revealing red flesh. That injury, it seemed it was inflicted by a sword, or claw… It was frightening, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from the sight. He should be dead. A mere mortal man would be dead…

"A-are you a god?"

The man chuckled. Her reaction had obviously amused him. The sound made her look at his mouth. As it was open slightly she could see sharp unhuman fangs.

"You flatter me, my lady."

No god…

Demon.

A demon had defiled the holy shrine! Yet there had been no malice in the tone of his voice. Even the warnings he had given her seemed sincere. "P-please," she tried again.

"It would be unwise to release you now. You will run, you will scream. I do not wish to hurt you or your kind."

"Y-you are hurt." She didn't know why she said it, for it was obvious.

His eyes widened and he tilted his head as if he was accessing a threat in her words. Was that why she had made that remark? To point out his weakened state? That he would be no match for the army of samurai. Lord Setsuna would safe her.

"You think I'm helpless?"

Now there was a threat in his words. She regretted her last sentence immediately. "I-" she did not know what to say.

"Corner an injured beast and it will strike. It will defend its life, my lady."

He was so formal. So polite. Were demons like that? Before they would devour your soul would they lure you in with gentle words?

She dared to ask. "A-are you a beast?" As she had asked that her eyes were suddenly draw to white fur clinging to his body. It almost seemed like part of him.

He shook his head. "Not today, my lady."

She didn't understand his answer. In the expression on his face she could read that there was a hidden joke behind his words, she didn't get. "Please let me go. I won't tell."

"You are lying." His voice was calm. When the silence between their conversation returned she could hear his slow ragged breathing. Fresh drops of blood from his chest that fell on the floor got her attention. Suddenly she realized what had happened. The other night. The thunderstorm without rain. It had been him. A collision of two powerful beings.

Was he the winner? Or had he lost the battle?

"I promise I won't tell."

He pulled her closer. Fear rose within her. The sharp fangs were glistening. Another plea from her seemed pointless, but she did it anyway. Tears burning behind her eyes.

"What will you give me, if you break that promise?" he asked.

She remembered the words from her nursemaid when she was little. Words part of the stories she so liked for it seemed like an adventures life outside the security of the walls. 'Don't ever make a deal with a demon'. And she pushed her lips together, making sure that in the threat of her life she would not say something foolish.

Then slowly her wrist was released and she was surprised by it. The man leaned back again and even though she had now won the freedom she had so craved, she still sat there beside him. She had seen the crimson smear on the wall as he had leaned forward and a white fur pelt behind him that was colored red in his blood. His eyes were closed and the human features on his face seemed so soft. Almost friendly.


Her scent had entered the shrine long before her footsteps announced her entry. And he had raised his head upon her arrival.

He had thought this place had been abandoned. It had seemed that way. Candles that had not been lit for years, it seemed, tiles and an altar that had not been cleaned. Then as the scent of human penetrated his nose so suddenly he realized he had been greatly mistaken.

And now he was assessing the possible outcome that he had to defile the surface with other blood, besides his own. But then details of her person were revealed to him as she came close to the entrance.

Female. Young.

Shrine maiden?

And without her knowledge she was being watched. Eyes looking at her from the dark shadows within the depts of the room.
No, she wasn't a shrine maiden. Her attire told him she was a noble. A high class noble judging by the jūnihitoe she was wearing.

He had released her when he was quite certain she opposed no threat to him. Yet instead of running away she remained by his side.

"T-take the offerings," he heard her say. "There is fresh meat, fruit."

He smiled and there was no mockery in it. "I am grateful for the gesture, but I must decline. I have no need for it."

"Please."

The scent of wild boar caught his nose and he opened his eyes to see her holding out a piece of meat on her hands. She held it right under his nose. There was concern in her eyes that had replaced the sudden fright. Was she really worried that he would die? He shook his head again and she lowered her hands. Standing up she placed it back on the tray that was on the shrine. He watched her grabbing another bowl and returning to his side. Although the liquid inside it was clear, the scent told him it was sake. He grinned. To celebrate a hard victory, he mused and he took a small sip as she placed it against his lips.

He saw her looking at the blade against the wall and he wondered if she could feel it. The strong evil aura that surrounded it. Humans were mostly oblivious to those matters. Yet some were able to sense an evil aura. Those were usually monks or priestesses.

The young feline was drawn to it like moths to a flame. He could see the gem mirrored in her brown eyes. She looked so frail. Her skin white as porcelain. Her hair, partly bound by a big head piece, long and black as the night. Small pink lips that trembled as she spoke. He was a large man in his human appearance but her small frame made him look even bigger. Such a fragile creature.

She flinched when his left hand reached out and touched her cheek. Her eyes turning and lowering, dark pupils dilating in fear as her gaze was set upon the sharp claw of his thumb as it reflected the candle light. The thing might bolt, but his other hand was ready to grab one of her tiny wrists if she would run. He was determined to not let her leave without him knowing her name.

Her eyes followed his hand as best as they could as it stroked her face. The softness of her skin stirred something inside him. A skin so thin that it would bleed so easily. How did those beings survive in this harsh world? A gasp from her mouth when his hand moved over her throat. Her neck could almost fit in his entire hand. She held her breath trying not to move and shiver when his sharp talons raked over her flesh and he noticed her eyes were closed now. A salty scent was in the air and water hidden behind her lashes as she forced herself not to cry.

"I-if my offering does not please you, please take my flesh instead," her soft trembling voice whispered. "B-but I beg of you do not unleash your rage upon these lands."

He moved his hand upwards to her face again, letting his thumb brush away the tear that had managed to escape her squinting eyes. He found it funny that she thought he would eat her. Offering herself so the people of her land would be spared. How ironic, he thought. For he had just saved the lot from a ferocious demon that had just that intend. Devouring all human inhabitants in this region. His region. It had been disrespectful placing a claim on his territory and the people in it. That foul being had no right to trespass his lands in such manner. He had disposed of it and now he was being compared with it?

"Fear not," he said, keeping his voice low so it would seem less threatening, although he had doubt it would calm her fast beating heart. How fragile were those bones really? How long could they withstand such hard pounding of the life sustaining organ without breaking? "I have no desire to eat you or your people." But wasn't she a delightful thing. He looked at her again, let his eyes wander over body. Fine silk draped over such small frame. And when she opened her eyes he could not hide the hunger within his own. Not the one she feared, but a hunger all the same. "Tell me your name." He asked of her. His tone was soft yet demanding while he let his thumb trace her lips.

She hesitated. Her eyes averting his gaze. This trembling little bird was trying to break free. Superstition that was in these lands making her weary of revealing herself. For wasn't giving one's name to a demon the same as if giving it your soul? He growled at that thought, knowing it was most likely that was keeping her silent. Yes, her name would give him power. He could let it roll of his tongue like an intimate caress. Changing her quivers of fear into ones of pleasure. She looked like a fine instrument ready to be played. Such delicate skin must be easy to manipulate, he wagered.

She had closed her eyes again at his unintentional growl. It did not please him. He wanted those doe eyes to open. To get lost into those depts. "Your name, little one. I promise not to harm you but tell me your name." A promise from a demon. He chuckled inwardly. How naïve was he if he was thinking that she would take him for his word?

The eyes opened again. Within the fear he noticed a spark of hope. A fleeting speck of it that she might get out of this alive. "All you want is my name?"

Such sweet voice. The trembling subsided in it, it was like music to his sensitive ears. He let his fingers glide through the strands of her raven black hair that were not bound by the hair piece. "Yes. Your name."

She bit her lip, hesitation still apparent, but victory was there. It smelled the same in every battle. Those with weapons, words and physical touches.

"Izayoi."

It was uttered so softly that he could barely hear it. But his demon senses had been on alert to pick it up between her ragged breaths. "Izayoi," he repeated and when the word was voiced he noticed her fear increasing again. An expectation in her eyes that the whole world surrounding her would now disappear beneath her feet or death grabbing her throat like a slave collar. Nervousness spiking in her scent.

Of course, nothing happened and he could only grin amused by it. He had not encountered another species in his long life span that had the power to turn their own nightmares into powerful demons. Or enforcing power on the creatures of the night with everything their imagination could conjure; turning demons into gods. He found it hard to believe that such fragile beings could be so masochistic. Letting themselves fear their own made up anxieties. No wonder so many of his kind could sustain their physical body by using plain human fear as nourishment. It was a substance that was abundantly present. And for those who hungered for blood, fear was a welcome addition for it would warm up the red liquid to the most appealing temperature for drinking. And for those who were fond of the flesh the quick flow of blood would warm up the flesh and organs as well. Human creatures: a delicacy.

As long as they not overcome their fears this world and them in it is a feast for us. And from somewhere deep inside that frail nature had called out to him. And it awoken something so un-demon like that it was almost humorous. The need to protect. Those that killed for pleasure and not for nourishment were banished from his territory. In his head he saw a vision of a possible, but brittle, peaceful coexistence between humans and demons. Those that were of the human kind were so alike, so compatible that it was strange that such alliance seemed so impossible to realize. Yet when such friendship was formed it was despised by both species. He wanted to put a stop to all the prejudice. Humans were resilient in their own way. They could be strong, magnificent.

She was waiting. An order? The building to collapse upon them? For the earth to devour her whole? Those brown eyes pleading for a sign or words that would assure them she would be safe. That she would be allowed home and live another day.

He released her hair watching it drape over her shoulder as he pulled his hand free from the silken strands. Human females were so compatible and beside the vision of that alliance he longed for, another vision was invoked in his mind. One that had her slim body beneath his, both of them lying on the bed that was the softness of her long black hair. That sweet voice crying out in pleasure close to one of his ears. The scars on his back that were claws of the demon beast he had slayed replaced with fresh ones from her human nails as they raked his skin as he would take his own pleasure from her compliant body.

He pushed the vision away – for now – and took the wet cloth from her still trembling hand and placed it against his right shoulder, a painful grunt escaping his lips as the wetness stung as it touched the deep gashes in his skin. He didn't need it really. His body would heal eventually. But the water would dull that foul stench the creature had left behind. It was an assault on his sensitive nose.

She was still there. Would he tell her that it was okay for her to leave? Then unexpected her soft hands moved over his and tugged the wet cloth free from his grip. He watched silently as she wrenched it before dipping it into the bowl again and then he felt her applying it on his skin again. Her movements o so carefully. Gentle strokes over the wounds, cleaning away the dirt and replacing the distasteful scent with the lovely scent that was her own.

In admiration he watched her clean the wounds. She was not repulsed by it as far as he could tell. The pressure on the wet cloth was light, he could barely feel it. The leaking cold water was even more apparent than her touch. Though he wanted to start a conversation he watched silently, because she already flinched each time he took a deeper breath.

She sat back and placed the cloth in the water. "I-I have nothing to bind it with… my Lord." She was hesitant with the respective title. Most likely she didn't want to anger him by using no words and she probably used the title to show him she was aware he was a powerful being. He noticed her looking at her already torn kimono as if she was pondering to rip another part of it to shreds. She was wearing several layers as a woman of her rank was supposed to be wearing. He knew that much of human divided classes. Of course, she could separate with one layer completely and still be decent. But the way she looked it was as if she would be naked in her own eyes if she would part with more of her clothing. Yet he found that she was considering it sweet nonetheless.

She was looking at him. Trying to read from his expression if he expected her to undress and part with her clothing so his wounds could be bandaged. Since she had taken on this obedient and submissive role on her own he was almost tempted to give such order. But for other more curious reasons than wound binding.

"It is fine," he heard himself speak. It was hard not to chuckle at her sigh of relief. "You are free to leave, lady Izayoi," he added.

She seemed shocked almost. Her eyes blinking in disbelieve that he was letting her go just like that. Her encounter with a fearsome demon and she got out of it alive? He could tell she was expecting a trap.

"Leave," he repeated. His deliberately made his tone more harsh so it sounded more like an order. "I have no more need for your presence right now."

She nodded quickly, probably afraid to disobey and face some demon wrath and stood up. Before she turned herself away from him he called out her name again. She froze.

"I can trust you will keep my presence here a secret?" When she didn't reply he added: "I would not want to place harm upon your people." He didn't want to make a threat like that, but he hated it more if he had to kill humans unnecessarily.

There was a nod from her and she appeared to be waiting for his permission that it was okay for her to leave.

"Indulge me with your presence again tomorrow?" He had found himself almost nervous to ask that of her. Almost feeling guilty for doing so, for he knew she would be most likely too fearful to decline his request.

Her voice trembled again as she gave her reply. "I-if it pleases you, m-my Lord."

He smiled trying to make it friendly and keeping any fang baring to a minimum to not scare her further. "Yes, it would please me." Greatly so.

She bowed and took her leave. Small feet quickly moving away. When her feet were no longer on stone but on forest soil he could hear her run.


A/N: * According to Rumiko Takahashi Inuyasha's mother was a noble lady and she wears a jūnihitoe. This is an extremely elegant and highly complex kimono that was only worn by court ladies in Japan. Literally translated, it means "twelve-layer robe". The various layers are silk garments. The innermost garment is made of white silk, followed by other layers which have various names, which are finally closed off by a final layer or coat. The total weight could add up to 20 kilograms.

The colors and the arrangements of the layers are very important. The colors have poetic names, such as "crimson plum of the spring". The only place where the layers are discernible is around the sleeves and the neck. The arrangements of the layers and their colors were a good indication to any outsider what taste and what rank the lady had. Apart from their robes, Japanese court ladies also wore their hair very long, only cut at the sides of their faces in a layered fashion; the longer hair was sometimes worn tied back. (source: wikipedia)

This story will be updated every month, unless mentioned otherwise. For information about the exact update schedule, please check my 'Work in Progress' page on my tumblr blog. You can find me on tumblr as Angelhart79.