Standard disclaimers apply.
A/N: Thank you so much for all the enthusiastic support for this story! It does not follow the series entirely. Here's chapter two, and I hope you enjoy it.
Pearl of the Underworld
Chapter Two
"This Sesshoumaru did not recall giving you permission to follow him back." The demon lord said scathingly, hostility dripping from every syllable in his words. He had meant to ignore her entirely, but Tenseiga would not hear of it and had protested by flaring its aura until the ghost was allowed to follow quietly behind. It was only when the ghost had followed them for a short distance did Tenseiga conclude that its master was grudgingly tolerant of the ghost's presence and calmed down.
Meanwhile, Sesshoumaru's retainer, Jaken, was positively shaking from head to toe with fear. Gripping his Nintoujou staff as if clinging on for dear life, the toad demon looked frantically from side to side; as if afraid the ghost might impulsively decide to harm him. He had finally grasped and came to terms with the idea that there was indeed a creature of the supernatural travelling with them, but it was nonetheless unsettling.
"Do not assume for a moment this Sesshoumaru has taken it upon himself to provide you assistance in any way. Whatever happens to you is not of concern."
The ghost remained silent and hung her head low, floating a few feet behind the stoic demon lord without a sound. She wanted to weep at the hostility she was being treated with, but her soulless eyes were unable to summon tears. Still unable to get used to this phantom body, she felt weak and craved nourishment, especially in the form of food offerings and incense sticks. A sad, wistful smile graced her pale lips; she was indeed, dead.
Her entire wisp of a body was impossibly weak, especially having narrowly escaped the vicious hell guards who were dying to drag her right down into the pits of hell. That was perhaps her rightful place, but those guards looked dreadfully intimidating and there was something about them she felt she could not trust.
"Cease following this Sesshoumaru. Go back to where you belong."
The hauntingly melancholic voice came. "But I have nowhere else to go, and it is you, honorable lord, who can help this lowly one."
He turned to look at her.
Her eyes met his for a moment, and he looked away in what she interpreted as disgust.
"Do you think this Sesshoumaru cares?"
The demon lord walking in front of her was an interesting character; he was the most beautiful male she had ever laid her eyes on. Never had she seen a male looking so spectacular with his perfectly chiseled, almost androgynous features. His hair was of the purest white, sleek and elegant like strands of silk bathed in moonlight. Strange markings on his face and wrists did not mar the beauty of this enigmatic creature; all they did was to enhance his near-perfect appearance, and added an exotic touch to him.
But alas, the gods above were never unfair. For the godly beauty he was blessed with came at a high price. He had no heart, she silently concluded. Or maybe he had one, but it was encased in ice and stone.
His arrogance and aloofness most probably meant the lack of family and friends who genuinely cared for him. People obeyed and befriended him not out of the genuine desire to do so, but rather, it was all out of fear.
It must be quite tragic to lead such a life, she thought to herself. After all, she had a happy life, until that fateful day…
"Lord Sesshoumaru! What about the…the…"
She looked up, her ghostly energy ebbing away with that simple movement. The simple offerings of stale rice, wild yams and salted bits of fish made to her at her shabby funeral provided little energy. Her hands were getting increasingly weak by the moment, and her pearly translucent form was getting fainter and fainter.
They had come to the grand archway of a magnificent imperial villa, those in which the reputable warlords and royalty resided. She had never even laid eyes on the interior courtyard of the villa; commoners of her social rank had to look at the ground when they walked past these villas. Standing up close, the archway looked even more impressive, with two intimidating paintings of Japanese guardian gods on each side of the grand doors. Demon guards knelt and bowed low at the sight of the demon lord.
The demon lord cast a glance at the ghost hovering behind them, and smirked to himself. "Let's go, Jaken."
"Yes, milord!" The toad demon was eager to comply, and though he was dreadfully tiny in stature, climbed over the threshold of the entrance, which was an elevated kerb. The demon lord strode over it effortlessly, and started to walk along the long stone path which led to the deep interior of the villa.
Regarding the elevated kerb quietly, she knew the reason behind his smirk. It was in their tradition and superstitious beliefs to raise the kerb at the entrance to all houses and temples in order to keep ghosts and wandering spirits out of the areas in which the living resided. Without legs, there was no way these phantoms could raise their knees to step over the kerb.
Summoning whatever energy was left in her entire being, she floated towards the kerb, intending to raise her body to cross it. But as the pearly wisps of smoky soul came into contact with the blessed wood, there was a flash of blinding light, before an acute stab of pain jolted through her body. A wail of excruciating pain was wrenched from her throat, before she fell backwards and collapsed like a limp rag onto the gravelly path. Eerie whimpers escaped her as she shook uncontrollably from the discomfort.
He cringed instantaneously; the bloodcurdling cry was too much for his sensitive demonic hearing to bear. It grated on his nerves and stopped him dead in his tracks. The blessed wood kerb was meant to deter the ghost from entering and effectively keep it out of his villa, but he had not counted on the irritating cries that would come along.
The ghost shakily tried to pick herself up into a kneeling position, driven by determination to receive help from the demon lord who could see her. If there was anyone who could help her, it was he. He could see her, could hear her, and he looked strong. Furthermore, she could touch the sword he carried with him. That was all she needed to know. Summoning strength in her body once again, she threw her weakened body at the kerb. Another flash of light, and pain far greater than jolts by large electric eels coursed through her. She cried out in agony and writhed on the ground as she lurched to the side.
"Help…" She moaned piteously, her teeth chattering involuntarily from the bouts of raw agony that ate viciously into the core of her being. Even dying hadn't been so painful…she screamed again, screaming for someone, anyone, who might render her assistance.
It was then when her eyes caught a flash of pristine silver above her, and it did not take her long to realize it was the demon lord who was staring down upon her coldly. Renewed hope filled her despite the agony she was in, and she tried to raise her hand to reach out to him.
Her hand went up shakily, trembled as she tried to hold it in place, before falling limply by her side. It was no good; she could not summon an ounce of strength. The charms used to bless the wood had been too strong, and the meager strength remaining in her starved phantom form was rapidly dissipating like tendrils of smoke in the air. She cried out in pain as another bout of pain hit her.
But he was here, and that was good enough. He came back after all, and she was certain he was not going to leave her in the lurch.
Then he did something she had never expected him to do.
From her position on the gravelly path, she saw him raise his leg. There was…fury in those amber eyes. He couldn't possibly be…
A foot clad in a dark black warrior boot swung forcefully in her direction, aimed directly at her side. She squeezed her eyes shut to brace herself for the inevitable pain, but she felt nothing. There was no forceful kick that came her way.
That was when she discovered that his attempt to kick her out of the way had failed; his foot had gone through her translucent body entirely. All her earlier hope died like a flame in a storm; he had not come back to help her…all he wanted to do was get rid of her. She wept tearlessly, her dead eyes unable to cry. He was so cruel, unlike anyone she had met when she was still alive.
Smirking sadistically as if he was deriving some sort of twisted joy from threatening to harm the ghost, and watching her cower in fear, Sesshoumaru gave her another good kick. She was annoying indeed, and this pathetic, weepy ghost had to be taught her place. He watched his foot go through her body yet again, and when he was certain she had learned her place, he literally turned his back on her.
"Go to somewhere else if you want to die." He said coldly, casting a condescending gaze upon the whimpering ghost. "Do not think annoying this Sesshoumaru with those unearthly noises you create would change his mind about helping you."
"P-Please…"
"This Sesshoumaru has been benevolent enough in allowing you to follow him out of the woods. Don't force this Sesshoumaru to destroy you."
She did not say a word to that, and instead, closed her eyes with a sorrowful, resigned expression. A self-mocking smile lingered on her colorless lips, and she once again mocked herself for how pathetic she was. She should never learn to trust males again, demon and humans alike, especially after what they did to her.
She thought she heard him leave.
Curling up on the ground, flashbacks of moments before her death revisited her. It was a breezy autumn's day, and the mountains behind the village in which she resided had been dyed a fiery red by Mother Nature. The chestnuts trees were positively groaning from the strain of ripe, delicious chestnuts on their branches and ripe wild mushrooms had fully emerged from the ground, bringing autumn greetings to the vast earth. The Western lands had been richly blessed indeed. She had wanted to gather the autumn harvest that nature had provided for the people, but had never counted on that trip to be the last time she left her home alive.
She had stumbled upon wild sweet potato plants growing in a patch deep within the mountains, and joy filled her as she recalled how pleased her mother would be to find sweet potatoes available for dinner. She dug with a fallen tree branch she found on the ground, and sure enough, she managed to unearth a large and ripe sweet potato of the unique purple variety.
It was then when it all happened.
A rumbling growl resonated in the vicinity, and she realized to her utmost horror that it was coming from right behind her. The merry tune which she was humming died on her lips. She thought it could have been a wolf, and she turned around, trying to stand tall and confident armed with the sweet potato in hand to scare the creature away.
But what greeted her eyes caused her blood to freeze in the vessels instantly, for staring back at her was a demon, one that resembled an ogre. It was at least five feet taller than she was, and the way it was looking at her told her she was prey. Retreating a few steps, she frantically threw the harvested fruits and vegetables at the mountain demon, before shrieking and trying to run past it.
Why would the ogre be here? The Western Lands had always been known for being a safe land to reside in…
Unfortunately, her running speed was in no way superior to the demon's, and she found herself forcefully brought to the ground by two impossibly thick arms that wrapped themselves around her waist. She kicked, fought and clawed at the sinewy arms holding her captive, but her struggles did not lessen the force of the hold on her in the least. Screaming for help, her cries seemed to backfire by fuelling the ogre's bloodlust and tendency to use violence. A swift blow to the face sent her head veering to the side and the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth instantly, and she watched in mounting fear and morbid fascination as her own blood spewed forth to stain the earth below.
She kicked again, and managed to push the ogre back by a few inches, before she seized the opportunity to clamber into a standing position. But before she could even make a run for safety, a sweeping swipe of the ogre's great claws slashed her left thigh viciously. Blood spurt forth once again and she was brought down to her knees, lurching forward to fall sprawled on the ground. Another scream was wrenched from her throat, a gurgling one that mixed morbidly with the blood in her mouth.
Fallen leaves rustled as the ogre clumsily moved forward to cover her much smaller body with its own, and she clawed at the earth helplessly to try to make another attempt at escape. Her fingernails hurt badly and fell off in fractured bits as she frantically clawed at anything within reach. She could not give up, not when she had so much to live for.
Then she felt fumbling hands rip her obi apart, and a bloodcurdling cry was wrenched from her throat once again as she realized what the ogre intended to do. Her kimono hem was lifted roughly and her undergarments were slashed away viciously, with beads of blood oozing out from the areas of her inner thighs where the skin was torn. She struggled with all her strength for yet another time, feeling like a fish on the chopping board, only to stiffen and scream soundlessly when an excruciating pain ripped through her with a forward surge of the ogre's powerful hips.
Every movement was causing a fresh wave of crimson blood to rush from her gaping, abused core to dye the earth a painful red. The pain was raw, and the sounds of fresh blood mixing with the sexual fluids of the revolting ogre were almost hypnotically rhythmic. The sounds became more and more distant, and she felt her vision weaken as dots of black started accumulating and dancing in front of her eyes…
And when she woke up, she was what she was now.
Cold, hungry and desolate, she had nowhere to go and no one to turn to. It was the same feeling she had now. That demon lord was just another male…unworthy of trust.
Rolling over to pull herself up into a kneeling position, she saw through heavily-hooded eyes how the demon guards at the grand archway were looking around in confusion for the creature their Lord had been talking to earlier.
He had a point; the land of the living held no place for the dead.
There was really no point in staying, when he could help yet would not.
She reached out with her arm such that it was resting against the ground and dragged herself forward by a few inches, before raising another arm to move herself forward. She did not have a destination, and neither did she know how she could get back to her village where she could see her mother and brother Souta again, but for now, she would just leave.
To be continued…
