Disclaimer: I do not own Inu Yasha
NOTICE: This story deals with incest (in this case, the sexual abuse of children). As such, some of the scenes depicted may act as triggers.
This story will have flashbacks. However, those flashbacks are not necessarily placed in chronological order. They are in the order in which Sango is remembering them. Enjoy!
Chapter 3
7 years and 9 months ago
The lord entered her rooms silently. A servant bowed at him immediately in respect. The young maid took her leave as her master waved her away with a careless flick of the wrist, his eyes never leaving his son's young wife-to-be's form.
She sat with her back straight at a low table, clothed with layers upon layers of silk kimonos, her hair done in complicated knots and folds. She was beautiful, a fine wife for his son, one who would give them the heirs needed to solidify his hold in the war taking place.
The man walked closer to her and sat on the other side of the table gracefully. Slowly, he reached under her chin with two fingers, tilting her head up and observing her face intently. A slight frown crossed his features. Her skin was definitely too dark, unfit for someone of her would-be rank. The last vestiges of her life in the village were hard to erase. He would need to remind the servants to give the young girl her lessons inside, so as to make the slightly golden glow of her skin fade.
Sango clenched her hands in her lap, uncomfortable in the apparel she had been forced to wear for a few weeks now. The lord had seen that her education as a proper lady began as soon as she came to his residence. Her old clothes had been burned, along with all of her belongings, and she had been bathed, scrubbed, perfumed, coiffed and dressed in the finest silk kimonos. Already she missed her village and her family, but knew better than to voice her feelings. The first time she had done so had earned her a scolding, the second, well... She winced. She would definitely hold back from expressing those feelings.
The lord trailed his fingertips along her jaw line and brushed the pad of his thumb along her bottom lip in a light caress. The young girl leaned in his touch slightly, confused and mistrustful, but also comforted by the tenderness in the gesture. Taking a glimpse at the older man's eyes, she could not detect the gleam she had seen in her uncle's eyes as he looked at her, nor the shine she had noticed as her father looked at her mother. The look resembled more that of a teacher studying a new student, the kind of look she had seen older demon slayers give their pupils. The look reassured her.
Slowly, the lord withdrew his hands and placed them in his lap, nodding at her softly. The raven-haired girl picked up the tea set carefully, as she had been instructed for weeks and poured tea delicately for her fiancé's father, a slight shake in her movement. Each failure had earned her to be disciplined, the punishments becoming harsher with each failed attempt. She was expected to learn quickly by her teachers.
The daimyo followed her every move intently, noting the uncertainty in her demeanour and the awkwardness of her whole being. However though, he was pleased that a girl such as her was learning this fast. Having been raised as a peasant, the girl had to be particularly ill-mannered and even a little savage-like.
He had heard of her running around barefoot and climbing trees as a boy would do. Decidedly, those taijya were very strange people. They were held in high regard, and vastly respected by many. If they so choose, they could easily amass a fortune with their calling, and yet they preferred to live like peasants.
He sipped at his tea slowly, indulging in the presence of the young girl. Delicately putting the cup back on the table, the older man beckoned Sango silently to come closer to him.
The young girl gave him an uncertain look but rose as instructed and shuffled to the other side of the table. Facing the young lord, she folded her legs and sat on her knees in front of him, her mind swirling with questions.
"It seems your lessons have been going well. I am pleased by your progress." A shy smile appeared on Sango's lips, appeased by the kind words.
The older man reached towards the girl once more, brushing his fingertips over her soft hair. He grazed his fingertips along her cheek, leaning in closer to her for a breath of a moment. She resembled so much his deceased daughter. He could not help but feel a slight twinge of affection for her.
The young girl's heart hammered in her chest, each beat echoing in her head and a flush rising to her skin. The look in his eyes had not changed, but she could not help the tendrils of fear that wrapped around her heart, making her clench her hands in her lap. Uncle had deceived her too, had hidden his intentions well.
A soft knocking sound drew the man's attention away, who then stood up swiftly and left.
The young girl slowly let her body move forwards, her forehead touching the floor, and let out a shaky sigh.
.
.
.
Morning came too soon for Sango. Getting up was a chore, as her sleep had been once more disturbed by dreams and memories of the past. Her loyal companion, Kilala sat beside her futon, watching her intently.
She looked down at the fire cat and sighed softly, putting her hand lightly on the demon's head to pet her affectionately.
"Don't worry Kilala, I'm fine." The demon merely continued to stare at her, leaning into her mistress' touch happily.
"Sango?" Miroku called out softly, glancing at the wall besides her bedding with furrowed brows. The gouges she had created with her dagger stood out starkly. She flushed as she followed his gaze, feeling embarrassed but mostly praying that he would not try to pry.
"Yes?" She replied lowly, standing up nonchalantly and brushing off the creases in her travelling kimono.
"It seems that we are alone for today. Kagome has gone back to her own time and, of course, Inu Yasha has followed her in the hope of shortening her time at home." He spoke softly, watching her roll her bedding.
"Thus, we are free to do as we please for the day, at the very least." He came forwards toward her, touching her shoulder. She startled at the touch, moving away with a quick movement of her body. He put up his hands up in a placating gesture as she eyed him with distrust.
"Now now Sango, I was merely going to offer to spend the day together."
She snorted, giving his hands a pointed look and took her belongings to a corner of the small hut, where they would not be a bother to anyone.
The young man sighed drastically, putting his cursed hand to his heart.
"Why, Sango, I'm hurt." The dark-haired woman ignored his comment, brushing past her companion with no acknowledgment of his existence. He followed her outside of the hut, smiling benignly.
She shouldered Hiraikotsu with a sigh, making her way to the forest tiredly. She could feel the monk at her back, and knew he was following her, most probably staring at her ass and trying to find the best way to catch a grope while evading her fury.
She glanced over her shoulder at the man following her. He gave her an innocent smile which she returned with a frown.
An object.
She was just an object.
A toy.
No matter what.
Oh… Little Coral, where are you? My lovely Sango…Uncle missed you…
She swallowed dryly and stopped, setting her large boomerang on the ground and sitting next to it. She took out a ball of wax she used to protect the surface and set to work in slow even strokes. The repetitive movement soothed her, allowed her to chase away the thoughts.
Miroku sat next to her, leaning his staff against his shoulder. He looked out at the field and started making small talk to her, to which she nodded distractedly. She tuned out his voice.
He had always been a source of conflicted emotions.
Attraction.
Sadness.
Anger.
Nervousness.
The demon slayer titled her head towards the holy man sitting beside her, examining his profile under the morning sun. One couldn't say that he wasn't a handsome man. He had sharp aristocratic features, with an infectious smile and eyes that twinkled with laughter. He was also very charismatic. One had simply to look at all his conquests to know all of this was true. Yes he was handsome, but the village also had a lot of handsome men.
Yet, she had never been attracted to someone before him. In her village, young men had kept away from her, from the girl that fought like a man, that didn't keep her place, that wasn't quiet and submissive. They kept away from the girl that was forbidden, away from the dirty and unpure one, away from the animal. Even as she had gained their respect as a demon slayer, even as she had fought and bled with them, they had never considered her as a woman.
Miroku turned his gaze way from the field and towards her, giving her a questioning if not concerned look at her lack of answer.
Sango fought down the urge to blush and met his gaze head on for a few seconds.
"Sorry. Please continue…."
She finally broke the stare and looked down at her weapon, resuming her work and trying to ignore the shifting of fabric as the young man besides her turned to look at her fully.
It wouldn't be too long now she thought. Soon, she would feel one of his hands wandering over her body, with no respect for her, for her feelings.
She knew her body was scarred. All of her battles had left marks on her, each scar having its own story, the biggest mark being the one on her back, souvenir from the night where Kohaku, possessed, killed her father and fellow slayers. She didn't have smooth skin like Kagome or most other women.
She was a slayer. Not a woman, never a woman. Nobody saw her as that and they wouldn't.
They saw the demon slayer.
She wasn't weak, wasn't submissive, wasn't beautiful.
At the last part, she felt her heart clenching. No man would ever want her for wife, if not for her scars or her attitude, then for her past. Even with her people gone, she could not escape her punishment, could not escape the destiny that had been set for her, both by the Takeda and by her uncle.
She felt a hand on her shoulder and tensed, looking down at the appendage. Even the monk didn't see her as a woman. She was a toy to grope for him, nothing more. A mere distraction when there weren't any other female around. Her eyes darkened and she looked up into the concerned gaze of her companion. She bit back a wave of revulsion, for a moment replacing those purple eyes by chestnut-colored ones, giving her a similar look and patting her head lovingly.
She offered a small smile, fake but convincing and looked back down at her weapon, using a rag to polish away any excess wax. The eyes continued to haunt her and even the repetitive movements of her hands could not stop her from losing herself in the memories.
.
.
.
11 years ago
"Sango, my sweet Sango, wake up." The young girl lay curled up in a tight ball, her blanket fisted tightly to her chest. She kept her eyes clenched shut, tears already leaking out. She prayed and hoped that the man would leave, deterred by her lack of reactions. A hand touched her shoulder and she flinched, unable to stay still at the unwanted contact.
Strong fingers closed around her shoulder and pulled, rolling her on her back. She kept her eyes closed still, her lips pressed in a thin line and her knuckles turning white. The hand let go of her shoulder and brushed her fingers reassuringly. She knew now those reassuring touches to be illusions. She did not understand. She couldn't understand. Why was uncle doing this? Why would he hurt her? This wasn't love. It couldn't be. It hurt when he came to her, when he touched her. Why, after all these years, did he continue to visit her in the night, to touch her and whisper he loved her?
Something pulled at her blanket, yet the girl held on tighter, biting back a whimper. Cool air hit her as the man took away the thin blanket previously covering her body, and she shivered.
Fear
Cold raw fear
The hand reached down to her ankle and slowly brushed its way up her leg, taking the hem of her sleeping yukata with it. Soon the soft cotton material was bunched up around her hips. Yet the hand didn't stop. It reached higher still.
She cried out, despair and pain escaping her body with a breath as she felt his touch. Another hand clamped down on her mouth as the pain inside of her body, her heart and her mind intensified with each passing second. Yet the man did not stop his unwanted touches, his breathing heavy and loud over Sango's muffled cries.
"Don't cry now Sango. It's alright, don't cry. Everything is okay." Both hands were removed from her body, allowing the little girl to cough in a breath and to curl up in what could have been a protective ball. Yet she knew it would not keep him from touching her. Nothing could protect her, nothing.
"Nothing will take you away from me." The little girl whimpered, sobbing and gurgling in her knees.
"Mommy…" The girl sobbed harder, only wishing to be in her mother's arms, to feel her comforting arms. She wanted to be anywhere but there. Anywhere in the world. Never had demons scared her as much as that man.
"Please, uncle, don't…" The child hiccupped painfully. The older man didn't pay her any mind, picking her up and sitting her on her sleeping mat. He pulled the yukata higher along her torso and the little girl, with a cry, started struggling, her hands forming little claws, trying desperately to break free, to stop the torment. She kicked out to him, blindly moving, tears and snot trailing down her puffy face.
A harsh slap on the face sent her reeling, her mind shaky and dazed at the hit. Cold air hit her whole body, as the aggressor used that opportunity to take away his niece's last protection.
Blinking dazedly, her head lolled around as one of the man's hands once more roamed her body.
Harsh.
Bruising.
Unforgiving.
In the room, soft sobs and sniffles rang out, along with the sound of man's moans.
.
.
.
She felt the hand on her shoulder slip lower and brush the side of her breast. She snapped, taking her agressor's arm and twisting it behind his back so he was flat on his face on the ground. She put a knee on his back and twisted a little more his arm, earning a grunt from him. The action was done before she even realized it. She nearly let go in surprise, guilt gnawing at her heart. Her heat beat loudly in her chest and ears, even as she realized the man underneath her was not her uncle, but a friend.
"Sango?" The demon slayer bent over Miroku, careful to keep her grip tight, nearly painful, but not tight enough to break bones.
"You don't understand, do you? You never will it seems." She ground out each word while adding more strength in her grip. The man underneath her let out a shuddering breath.
"Sango, what…?" Sango closed her eyes. She could feel her heart still beating erratically in her chest, acid rising into her throat at her companion's gesture and her reaction to it.
He couldn't be like him, couldn't be like her uncle.
Couldn't.
Couldn't.
She felt a flare of fear at the thought of him touching her like HE once had.
She couldn't be a victim again.
Never again.
"I'm not your toy, monk, not your thing to grope, the thing you settle for touching because there are no females around."
"I don't see you as my toy." The words were spoken softly, as if to appease her, but it didn't. Instead, it made her pain sharper.
"You do. You don't see me as a person, as a woman. I'm nothing. You don't respect me." The monk shifted under her body as she released his arm. He twisted around carefully, leaning back on his good hand, cradling his other arm in his lap. She quickly retracted back her body, sitting back on her heels, eyes level with the object of her attraction and present turmoil. The man looked at her face and noticed the cool mask of the slayer was put in place.
"Sango, I…" Her eyes darkened and she stopped him before he could go on.
"You respect the fighter in me, the demon slayer. You respect my ability to fight, but you don't respect me, never me. You don't know how to." Slowly, she got up and looked down at the man sprawled at her feet, looking at her with hurt and bewilderment. She felt her façade crack but didn't let her pain escape.
Turning on her heels, she picked the giant boomerang and started walking back towards the village, never looking back.
End of chapter
Thank you to Chibi-sango16, nahia2008, Death101-Fox Version and Aamalie for your reviews. You guys are the ones making me want to continue this story!