Warning(s): Torture
The hanyou had no choice but to stand rigidly with his lead pulled taut, feeling the residual hum of spiritual energy as it coursed through his body. As the booming voice of the man reached his drooped ears, Inuyasha felt a sense of hopelessness trying to settle in the pit of his stomach. Sesshomaru couldn't do anything to stop this now—he didn't have the portal and there was likely no way to get it. It was unsettling to know his death was coming. In a fight, one could never be sure. Now though, his death would serve as a show for these people. Disheartened, his shoulders dropped slightly, maybe he should have asked Sesshomaru to pass something on.. What would Kagome think? Or Miroku? Sango? And Shippou and Kaede...? Inuyasha closed his eyes and tried not to dwell on the final words he could have—should have given to be relayed. It was too late now..
There was no quelling the sense of panic washing over Sesshomaru in rivulets, lengthening his fangs and maddening his eyes, lurid with the color of fury.
Sesshomaru and Inuyasha, each grasped firmly from behind, were forced to face each other; connected solely by a chain at their outstretched wrists. Frozen, the youkai stared straight ahead as the link between them was severed, unable look away from his brother's petrified face. Sound disappeared from his consciousness. Every motion appeared delayed to his eyes as Inuyasha was pulled in the opposite direction.
For so many years, he'd believed the hanyou's life meant nothing to him. The hanyou's virtually worthless life had always been within his grasp. It was a constant—an object of Sesshomaru's to extinguish whenever he pleased. Inuyasha was always just a pathetic hanyou without a single purpose in life. And now...
Sesshomaru did not wish to forsake him.
The life within his clutches was no longer worthless. And now, of all times, his clutches would not contain it. Youki swarmed beneath his skin, preparing to burst forth in one final attempt at freedom.
But then something drew his attention. The large door had been thrown open, capturing the attention of the crowd as surely as a beaten drum. Sesshomaru turned his head. Prominent in the sunbathed doorway—stood Hana, panting heavily.
"Stop this execution!" She shouted, the clarity of her voice reverberating through the stadium. "I am here, as a longtime, dedicated citizen of this rebel settlement, to retell what I have seen and you all have failed to consider. Something more happened and it must be heard."
Inuyasha's jaw was slack with fear and disbelief. He knew what was going to happen—he knew he was standing on the cusp of death, about to meet the fate which he had so long avoided: death. Yet, as the chain was cut and he was wrenched away from his brother, the knowledge felt foreign to him, coiling around his mind like a serpent—cold and frightening—until he was trembling within the hold of the surrounding guards.
Reality seemed to distort the more hands found their way to his body. He didn't even realize he'd started to struggle. Chest constricting, the hanyou was unable to form any words, either of protest or otherwise, as he was forcefully and painfully shoved to his knees. In the same instant, his ears perked up, his attention caught by a familiar voice. Hana..? The guards surrounding him paused—grips never faltering—and all eyes were searching until they landed on the petite, dark haired woman. Inuyasha frowned in confusion and stopped his struggling, for now at least, as his gaze focused on her.
"How dare you, Woman." The showy, plump male's voice boomed. "The crimes this creature has committed—"
"Let her speak, Youta," Kurama cut in firmly. "She has the right." Receiving a venomous look from Youta, Kurama motioned Hana over to stand before the platform.
The crowd murmured unhappily, following the woman with a thousand scathing eyes. Hana refrained from looking at Inuyasha and Sesshomaru as she passed. The way she brushed by without a single glance of concern in Inuyasha's direction, it was as if she had never met them. "I am a witness," she began, coming to a stop and craning her neck upwards to regard the two men, "to the events before the murders. I was on my way home from collecting fresh water," Hana began slowly. "I heard some very strange noises coming from the hut belonging to the man named Shigeo. I heard...muffled noises. It sounded like a struggle."
Sesshomaru watched the petite woman carefully. He was sure it would go unnoticed, but she was not being entirely truthful in her words. More than likely, Inuyasha's failure to show up at her hut after he finished work had worried her. It had worried her enough that she either followed him to his destination, or sought him out when he never passed by her hut in order to return to his own. Whatever the case, her arrival at that hut had been no coincidence. The woman was fabricating the story to make it seem as though she had no previous connection with Inuyasha. An intelligent move.
"I couldn't have simply passed by," she continued. "So I melded into the shadows of the hut..." She shook her head, voice faltering. "I couldn't believe my eyes, it was... It was barbaric. The boy's wrists and ankles were bound. His knees had been forced apart by some contraption. He was gagged..." Tears began to well in Hana's eyes. Genuine tears, Sesshomaru realized. "He was naked. And terrified... That disgusting man!" She spat her words. "Shigeo held a knife to him and raped him. He," she pointed to Inuyasha, "was doing what was necessary to save himself. The boy was covered in blood and in such a craze when he left the hut that some other idiots decided to attack him. He was defending himself, for Kami's sake!"
Ears falling as he listened, Inuyasha tried not to let the words get to him. He got through telling his brother—granted, he didn't think he had been entirely conscious when he had—why would he even want to tell Sesshomaru such a thing anyway?—Nevertheless, he'd still done it. Hearing it from someone else made it seem more.. Real—more concrete in it's actuality.
Hana's words were slowly untying the knots which bound those memories. The hanyou had at least been able to ignore them for a little while he talked with his brother, but now.. He couldn't even draw upon the odd instinctual comfort that came with the youkai's presence—Sesshomaru was too far away. But Inuyasha could not afford to lose himself. Setting his jaw, the hanyou clenched his fists, staring at Hana with a mix of embarrassment and gratitude. Maybe he had a chance of his sentence being lightened now.. They wouldn't—couldn't—kill him for defending himself. Right?
A strange silence fell briefly over the large, excessively populated arena. Many of the occupants in the stands shot each other appalled and outraged looks, then returned their heated gazes to Hana. Likely, they were all more stunned by the fact that the woman had actually come before them to say something about it, than by the hideousness of the described act. They wanted blood—justified, or not.
Still dangerously close to losing his calm composure, and held firmly in place by three guards, Sesshomaru looked to Kurama who was shifting his stare between Hana and Inuyasha with a slacked jaw and skyward brows.
Youta, on the other hand, with a momentary lapse in enthusiasm, glared in Hana's direction. The flashy male smoothed back his hair with a drawn out breath. Then, as if a lever had just been abruptly pulled inside of him, whatever had just crossed his calculating mind allowed Youta's face to regain its exaggerated smile. He laced his fingers. "I thank you for your words, woman," Youta began with reverberating volume, "but we cannot overlook what has been done. Someone must be punished for the mortal world creature's crimes. The law is firm in its demand for crimes to be repaid." He paused, extending his hand and turning slowly in a near circle to address the stands. "We have all gathered for the firm hand of justice!" The crowd hooted in agreement, many raising their fists.
Clenching her fists, Hana's eyes widened. Had her efforts truly failed?
Kurama stood up as Youta's outstretched hand came to rest in his general direction. "You still intend to have him executed?" Kurama asked in a hushed, almost apprehensive, tone.
Imperceptibly to the crowd, Youta's eyes crinkled with delighted cruelty. He ignored Kurama and spoke once more to the three standing before the platform. "Due to the severity of the crime, the punishment will not be dropped. However..."
Sesshomaru narrowed his eyes when Youta's gaze fell upon him for longer than a mere random glance would permit.
"I will give the two foreign beings a choice. The decision will be entirely theirs to make." Murmurs rose within the stands at the outlandish suggestion. Whoever allowed prisoners to choose their own fates? Youta silenced them with a hand. "We will continue with the killer's execution as planned. It will be a simple, clean beheading. But do not fret, dear friends—once his head rolls, his body will be posted in the center of the settlement where you will be free to mutilate it in whatever way you choose. Or, he paused in favor of suspense, "the killer will be subjected to a full day and night of unending torture. But in order for his life to be spared... His brother must receive the same punishment." Youta grinned wickedly, disregarding Kurama's troubled look and Hana's horrified gasp. "Release them," he ordered the guards. "They have but a moment to choose."
There was a brief moment where Inuyasha believed he might escape the spirit world alive enough to break the bond between he and Sesshomaru. But that was before Youta said his brother would have to take the punishment as well. As the guards holding him released his lead and relinquished their hold on him, the hanyou's ears fell against his hair. He was not going to make it out alive—he was just Sesshomaru's half-breed brother—the lord had no reason to agree to Youta's terms.
When Inuyasha still hadn't moved after a few seconds of standing numbly, his guards gave him a harsh shove in Sesshomaru's direction. He stumbled forward, the chains binding his ankles shortening his steps uncomfortably. Failing to stop his momentum, the hanyou landed once again on his knees, this time just in front of his brother. He met the youkai's gaze for a moment before looking away. There wasn't anything to discuss. Not in his mind. Inuyasha swallowed heavily, wondering if it was at all possible to come to terms with his death. Considering the hopelessness that was creating an abysmal pit in his stomach, he doubted he could resign himself completely. Maybe... Maybe he could talk Sesshomaru into it.. It might cost his soul, but he might be able to—no. The realization that he had actually thought of begging his brother to save him came suddenly and the hanyou shook his head at his own idiocy. If anything, begging the youkai to save his life would result in the lord's laughter or that familiar sneer he'd been on the receiving end of so many times. Sesshomaru wouldn't deign to help him and Inuyahsa knew it. He'd known it for a long time now.
Livid golden eyes wide, Sesshomaru's furious gaze connected with Youta's continuous and pointed stare. The youkai stood very still, the noise of the crowd growing distant as he looked up at the one on the platform who was blatantly challenging Sesshomaru with every ounce of his expression. No matter what Sesshomaru chose, the corpulent male would be left satisfied. Sesshomaru was to choose the path of cowardice and watch as his brother met his death, or deign to endure torture and public humiliation just so they could both leave with their lives. Plenty of times had Sesshomaru met a self-obsessed swine such as this one. But never had he been at the mercy of one.
Snapped out of his fixation by a sudden and somehow significant thump, his darkened eyes fell upon Inuyasha who had been shoved at the lord's feet. Inuyasha could hardly stand to look at him. Sesshomaru swore he could feel the hanyou's rapid heart beating in time with his own. The hanyou looked pathetic as he kneeled in the dirt, eyes glassed over as if he were already dead. Sesshomaru extended a hand to his fallen brother, his expression unreadable. "Did I not tell you to meet your fate as would an inuyoukai?" His voice, though monotone, held an air of resolution.
Gaze rising at his brother's voice, Inuyasha could only stare at the hand offered to him. Sesshomaru probably only cared that his death was approached with the same honor as an inuyoukai—he wouldn't want his half-breed of a brother's death to tarnish their bloodline any further. But, the hanyou realized rather forlornly, that expected honor was likely all he'd ever get from his brother. Sesshomaru had never cared about him and Inuyasha knew that. Now, the lord probably just wanted to keep their family name clean, well, as clean as it could be with a hanyou in the mix. Even if he was just a reproachable mutt, he was apparently expected to die an acceptable death—by his brother's standards.
With a sigh, Inuyasha reached up, shackled hands grasping the youkai's extended one as he realized that Sesshomaru demanding he meet his fate like a true inuyoukai made sense. Before, the lord had wanted to kill the hanyou himself. Inuyasha figured Sesshomaru would think that honorable—to be killed by a full-blooded youkai of his own family. Standing beside Sesshomaru now, the hanyou couldn't find the energy to ponder the workings of his brothers mind. He was about to die... Taking a deep breath to hopefully reinforce a false sense of strength, Inuyasha tried to straighten his shoulders under the heavy weight that had seemed to settle on them. He was already beginning to feel detached and lifeless as his gaze fell to the ground though. And the hanyou didn't know why he still felt the need to make an honest attempt at standing tall to meet his end.
Now standing shoulder-to-shoulder with his brother, Sesshomaru failed to release the hand now in his grasp. Something inside of him urged him to give as much strength and reassurance to Inuyasha as he could manage, before it became impossible to give. Looking to Youta once more, and for expectedly the last time, Sesshomaru gave a curt nod. Heart pounding fiercely in his ears, Sesshomaru turned to Inuyasha, close enough for his breath to ruffle the stray hairs atop the hanyou's head. The guards approached them quickly. Profoundly tense, Sesshomaru lifted his hand, fingers laced loosely with his brother's and ghosted over the mark bestowed upon Inuyasha. "It will be painful—and you will wish for death by the end of it—but it will not last forever," the youkai breathed, well aware that his parting words and languid touch were not only for his brother's benefit.
Inuyasha glanced up at his brother in slight surprise as his mark was brushed. But he couldn't bring himself to resent the small swell of comfort that the touch gave him. Ears fluttering lightly against the youkai's warm breath, Inuyasha's eyes widened slightly as he registered the lord's words. Previously sluggish thoughts began to race. Sesshomaru wouldn't—no, he couldn't mean.. Pulled away from his brother once more, Inuyasha hadn't realized that his grip on Sesshomaru's hand had tightened until their fingers were forcefully disentangled. "Wait—" He started, voice nearly frantic in its urgency as he looked at the youkai in confusion. "What do you—" A sharp jerk on his lead quickly silenced the hanyou as spiritual energy seemed to sear his throat and paralyze his vocal cords. His eyes remained glued to the youkai though, wondering if he had simply misheard what his brother said. Inuyasha found himself desperately hoping he hadn't as his mind latched onto the idea of living once more.
Sesshomaru's eyes remained locked with Inuyasha's as they were each pulled roughly to the center of the grounds where their wrists and ankles were chained to the large, partially raised portion of rock beneath their feet. Every inch of flesh exposed, they stood side-by-side and faced the crowd in opposite directions. Sesshomaru's head was turned to the right as he refused to yet tear his hard gaze from Inuyasha's face while the guards continued to secure them each in place. They were just out of arm's reach, he realized bitterly. Close enough to hear and see every bit of each other's pain, they were not allowed to draw comfort from touch—from the reassurance that neither of them were dying this day. As Sesshomaru looked at his brother, his mind was not racing as it should have been. He was not cursing the hanyou for his carelessness and deficiency as would have been conventional. Nor was Sesshomaru questioning his position at the hanyou's side. When given his choice, his reaction had been immediate. There had been no option in his mind. Sesshomaru—lord of the western lands—did not stand by and watch as anything belonging to him was ripped away. That was how it had always been.
Sesshomaru was never one to lay claim on whatever crossed into his path. Very few things struck his favor. Thus lit within him a burning desire to keep close to him what his conscious mind embraced; what would serve to undermine his frigid exterior; what forced him to be something other than what he'd always been expected to be, always swallowed every thing besides instinct, cunning, and rationale to be—perfect.
"If either one of you tries to escape," Youta announced over the excitement of the crowd, "you both will be killed on the spot!"
Staring at his brother as they were both chained on display, Inuyasha felt the sudden urge to apologize. For his youkai choosing Sesshomaru, for the nocturnal activities they engaged in without the hanyou's conscious knowledge, for the mess they were in now—he wasn't sure. Maybe all of it. But Inuyasha couldn't find his voice. Between the weight of the chains and what was about to happen to them, he felt paralyzed. And knowing that one step out of line had the potential to kill them both further froze his muscles. But, for whatever reason, Sesshomaru had chosen to face this punishment with him. The hanyou couldn't fathom why at the moment, but he was grateful nonetheless. Now, he could only hope to withstand what was to come. He had faced injuries from battles before—ones that very nearly took his life. Hopefully this would not push him past his limits..
The theatrics were concluded, Sesshomaru discerned. Youta had reseated himself for the viewing and did not appear to have anything more to say; this day's only blessing. Sesshomaru watched as a hysterical Hana was escorted from the arena floor. All of the attention was now fixated on them, the two whose pain would be the source of entertainment. The spectators in the stand, practically frothing at the mouth, would no longer be kept waiting.
Two demonic creatures, large and glad entirely in black, approached each of them swiftly. Their expressions were very relaxed and casual as they approached Inuyasha and Sesshomaru with glowing metal skewers and leather whips.
They were to be burned and flogged, then. Sesshomaru had witnessed this practice many times when his mother held public executions. It reduced even the fittest of men to screaming, shaking, gutless curs. But Sesshomaru had never seen anyone like himself endure it. He could take this.
Almost before Sesshomaru could meet the gaze of his torturer, a molten hot rod was thrust all the was through the center meat of his thigh, causing the youkai's golden eyes to snap wide open.
The crowd cheered—and so it had begun.
Sesshomaru clenched his fist, unable to lift his arm, for it was chained too near to the ground, but he made no sound. Given no time for recovery, a second molten skewer was thrust through the other thigh. Gritting his teeth, he fought to keep his gaze neutral as his torturer then grabbed hold of the end of each skewer and twisted and oscillated them within his flesh. Each movement of the embedded rods burned and rubbed more of his leg tissue into a thick, foul-smelling, bloody fluid. His breaths came heavy, burning his nose as he refused to open his mouth.
His skin felt feverish, the blood having risen to the surface and a thin layer of sweat having gathered by the time his torturer relented. The skewers would not be removed, it seemed. And already, the exertion to remain standing evoked utter agony; his torn muscles working around the searing rods of metal. This would be more difficult than he'd previously thought.
Inuyasha only caught a glimpse of the first metal dowel being driven through his brother's leg before his gaze swiveled back to the advancing creature in front of him—his own persecutor. Body tensing at both the crowd's outburst and the glowing rod which was close enough now that he could feel the heat rolling off of it, the hanyou lifted his eyes enough to glare at the black-clad figure before him. His gaze faltered when the sharp point of burning metal touched his skin—his thigh. It was there only a moment before the rest of the skewer followed. It was an inch, maybe—probably—more, in diameter but Inuyasha couldn't pay attention to that. Not when his skin was being stretched and burned, his muscles being driven through by the searing metal. The pain he felt could almost be equated to poison burning through his skin, not quite the same, but it made his mouth fall open as he sucked in a quick breath, unprepared for the sensations coursing through his tensing leg.
Clenching his jaw, Inuyasha realized the dull roar which he was hearing was not his own heart thundering through his ears. It was the crowd surrounding them. Their reaction to his own torture surpassed the noise they had made at Sesshomaru's expense. He watched silently, sweat beginning to bead on his skin, as his torturer cast a glance at his partner before turning slightly to eye the spectators in the stands. When he lifted the second rod, the cheers increased. Inuyasha knew they wanted his blood—likely as much as his youkai had wanted the blood of the five he killed. Inuyasha resented them for it, even more so as the bulky male before him met his gaze and stepped closer.
The skewer was waved tauntingly in front of his face and Inuyasha refused to look away. But as it dropped and touched his chest, he automatically tried to lean away from the searing heat. There was no escape though—not when he was chained this tightly. His torturer slowly dragged the rod down, from his sternum to the twitching muscles of his abdomen and past his navel. The trail which was burned down his torso seemed to make his skin sizzle away, leaving a sheen of shining hot pinkness, and Inuyasha clenched his fists, claws biting into his palms as he tried to fend off the searing pain. The hanyou was panting by the time it slid past his waist and he struggled to keep his breath short and shallow so the metal wouldn't pierce muscle. Sweat was gathering on his body and beginning to roll down now. As the heated skewer moved dangerously close to his penis, Inuyasha felt a pressure building in his head. At first, he thought to blame it on his current circumstances, but, as it increased, he realized that was not the cause. No. It was his youkai. If it took control... What if it tried to escape and kill again? That would just result in his and Sesshomaru's deaths. Inuyasha knew he couldn't let it overpower him this time—no matter what. But as the metal slipped by his groin, sparing his flaccid length any pain, his torturer decided to embed it deep within his thigh, nearly matching the positioning of the first one exactly. The sudden, intense pain made him cringe and nearly cry out as he wondered how long he could keep his youkai at bay—having to deal with both the mental and physical pain he was being put through. Vaguely, Inuyasha recognized the crazed screams the crowd released as they continued to encourage his torturer to twist and quirk the skewers—the male had a firm grip on both now—in random directions. The hanyou desperately tried to fight his youkai and the pain, his vision beginning to swim from the effort as he shuddered, breath falling heavily, in ragged pants, from his lips.
Sesshomaru's breath hitched and then ceased altogether when another molten skewer was procured and held dangerously close to his eyes. The rivulets of heat obscured his view of everything around it's glowing, yellow tip. He barely caught the smirk of his torturer as the hot metal singed the ends of his eyelashes. Sesshomaru began to lose his awareness of anything besides the creature in front of him, other than the constant, dull roar surrounding him. Sesshomaru was clay in the hands of this brute. The torturer would do whatever he pleased. Sesshomaru would be blinded. One wrong move and—
He could not help the jerking movement of his body as he leaned to the right and away from the threat. The torturer laughed cruelly and dragged the searing skewer across his cheek, tracing a single magenta stripe, leaving the area skinless, raw, and a glistening white; sealed off from the flow of red blood. Sesshomaru barred his teeth, hissing as the male did the same to the other three stripes on his face. His torturer then tossed the cooling skewer aside with a grunt and reached for his belt, producing another chain; this one with three large barbed hooks dangling from the end.
The monstrous creature swung the chain three times in the air, letting the spectators see what was next in store for the imprisoned youkai. "I was going to let you get away with being partially chained since you've only got one arm," said the torturer in a deep, raspy voice. "But I can't have you moving around like that," informed the creature pleasantly, adding a slightly higher pitch to each word as if Sesshomaru were obtuse. Snickering, the torturer took hold of the disfigured remains of Sesshomaru's left arm and pierced the inner side with a hook, embedding the hook deeply until none of its curve was visible. The next two hooks were slid into Sesshomaru's arm more slowly than the last, creating a secure triangular formation around the base of Sesshomaru's bicep. The torturer took pleasure in wiggling them around as he had with the metal rods. Finally, he grasped the chain, which was now an extension of Sesshomaru's arm, and gave it a harsh pull, tearing a growl from Sesshomaru's dry throat. The end of the chain was then secured to the ground. If he attempted to pull away now, the youkai would only mutilate his own flesh.
Inuyasha's head had fallen forward as much as he could allow it to and his eyes were squeezed shut. His legs were throbbing and pulsing as his muscles tried to work and repair themselves around the cooling rods. He could still feel the burn though—the trail down his chest and the heat which had burnt through his flesh lingered. On top of it all, his youkai was relentless in it's attempts to take control. It felt as though knives were being thrust through his skull, repeatedly, mercilessly. The more Inuyasha fought it, the more intense the pressure became—building upon itself and sharpening in it's severity.
So focused on his attempts to contain his youkai, Inuyasha failed to notice his torturer take hold of a third metal rod, burning a bright orange, nearly white at the tip. He didn't realize until that smoldering heat was touching the base of his left ear. The contact made him yelp in surprise and pain as he jerked his head up, trying to get away from the sweltering sting. The motion only caused the pointed end of the rod to scrape across the inside of his ear before it could lay back in an attempt to escape. The crowd was wild with their excitement as the hanyou voiced his distress with a sharp whine. Inuyasha tried to turn his head away from his torturer, but a calloused hand soon found his jaw. The fingers which curled into his flesh and held his head firmly were unyielding and Inuyasha was forced to meet the sharp, cruel gaze of his tormentor. The rod was lifted again and no matter how desperately his ears flattened back against his hair, the heat was inescapable and the torrid metal traced the soft edge of his flinching ear, burning away fur and skin. In that moment, Inuyasha felt himself slip, losing hold on his consciousness as his youkai took advantage of his lapse in concentration. A growl that was not his own rumbled from his chest, but was cut off as his persecutor moved to his other ear and gave it the same treatment. He could smell burnt skin and hair now.
Fighting through the pain, Inuyasha struggled to push his youkai away again. But it was right beneath the surface of his skin—he could feel it trying to claw its way free. He didn't know how to stop it. His breath was too short and his heartbeat too fast—the hanyou was in control of nothing. His body was bound and he was at his torturer's mercy; he was slowly losing control of his mind to his youkai; and worst of all, this was just the beginning.
Already disagreeably drained, Sesshomaru began to feel a burning sensation in his chest. He had not yet been touched there, he recalled with momentary confusion. Mind removing itself slightly from the distraction of pain, he remembered what lied there on his chest, just below his collar bone. And it only burned this way when its bestower was in dire need. He turned his head in the direction of Inuyasha, only to find his oppressor unwrapping a black leather whip.
Sesshomaru cringed inwardly as he finally assessed the type of whip they were to be flogged with. It was not one of the thin, light ones that cracked loudly with each strike and made a bloody mess of the top layer of skin. The black monstrosity of a whip was corded and thick with a relatively heavy, blunt end. This was the sort of whip one would use to tame large beasts. While the noise would not be as devastating as a thin whip's and the blood would not come as quickly, the design was meant to inflict far greater pain. It had the ability to reduce flesh to pulp. The cuts would eventually grow muscle deep. If not for their heightened healing abilities, this degree of flogging could kill them over the course of a night and day.
He heard it then. The ferocious growl from behind the broad creature. Sesshomaru could smell the rage, the fear, the potent youki. Inuyasha's youkai. If it lost control, they would never make it out of there. Their string of chances had been cut.
Lips dry, Inuyasha felt the tremble in his legs begin to move up to the rest of his body. Whether it was simply from the abuse he had endured or his attempts to restrain his youkai, he wasn't sure. Holding it back was only getting harder—especially when his torturer uncoiled one of the larger whips hanging off his belt. Allowing the end to hit the ground with a solid thump, he gave the hanyou a cold sneer before cracking the thick leather on the ground near Inuyasha's feet. It was probably for the crowd's benefit—to further increase the hype. But the dull noise only served to enrage the beast in his head more, it gave a deafening snarl that echoed through Inuyasha's head before he realized his own mouth had contorted to reveal his fangs as the same sound fell from his lips. No. He couldn't allow it to take control. It didn't—couldn't—understand what was happening. Both Inuyasha and Sesshomaru would die if he allowed to take over. But the hanyou could not catch a break—his youkai's snarl seemed to egg on the creature before him and he watched with bated breath as the whip was lifted, an arm was jerking backward, and then, as if in slow motion, that same arm was lashing forward with the thick, black leather following it's path.
The whip struck him diagonally across the torso, leather making contact with a resounding smack. Entire body tensing, Inuyasha's mouth fell open as a sound, caught somewhere between a whine and an outraged growl, tore out of his throat. There was no time to recover from the stinging, throbbing ache before leather was flying again, this time lashing one already injured thigh. And then the other. The torturer had by no means eased the hanyou into the torment. Blood was pooling beneath his skin, making the wounds tender and Inuyasha gasped at the pain. He thought the burning had been bad—but he'd never experienced anything even close to a flogging before. The still fresh burns made the lashing worse and there was nothing he could do. The pain, the sting, it was overwhelming him. And as his torturer pulled back, ready to strike again, Inuyasha's fear spiked. He didn't want to feel the bite of leather again and he couldn't see himself lasting an entire day and night.
It was then that he felt himself falling though, physically, he never moved, the ache in his head increasing until it was completely unbearable. His youkai surged forward in his mind and all Inuyasha saw was black. Eyes bled out until crimson consumed them and jagged stripes flared over his cheeks as the hanyou strained against the chains holding him. His body was forced back as the whip connected again, across his chest once more, rising a dark flush to his skin as blood vessels were broken. The now crazed hanyou responded with another snarl, trying to jerk himself free.
The first strike was administered across Sesshomaru's abdomen. It stung but it was hardly cause for a blink. It seemed almost experimental—the first test to decipher how far the youkai would have to be pushed before he could no longer mask the incessant need to express his pain. Barefaced, visible agony was always what the audience craved.
His torturer finally moved, making his way around to Sesshomaru's other side. Sesshomaru could see Inuyasha fully now. Thick fangs protruded from the hanyou's snarling mouth. And his eyes were nearly as crazed as they had been on the night he was raped. Inuyasha jerked against his chains, trying desperately pull free. The relentless whips, obviously greater in force than Sesshomaru's currently were, only served to fuel Inuyasha's fear and rage. As strong as the chains were, they would not withstand relentless abuse from a crazed hanyou with daiyoukai blood running through his veins.
"Inuyasha!" Sesshomaru hissed. "Look at me, damn you!" He flinched as an especially hard strike landed across his side. Even then, Sesshomaru was still being played with.
Damaged ears swiveled and the hanyou's gaze briefly flicked away from his assailant. His eyes did not stray long though, quickly returning to glare at the creature wielding the whip. With a growl on his lips, Inuyasha pulled at his bonds again. He could not allow this to happen. The whip was swung again, stinging his side and his back when the end curled around his body slightly. But then he heard something again—that something which had drawn his attention before. Again, his gaze moved. This time, it remained on what turned out to be his mate. Why were they both here? Alarmed and confused by the chained and wounded state of the youkai, Inuyasha jerked at the chains again, panic beginning to take root—he couldn't allow his other half or his mate to be harmed anymore.
Once Sesshomaru was able to catch his brother's eye, he held it, giving the hanyou a firm shake of the head. Now fully aware of Sesshomaru's similar state, Inuyasha appeared even more desperate in his attempts to escape. "Stop," Sesshomaru commanded, voice strained against the strike across his chest. He softened his voice as much as possible, ignoring the odd pause in the flogger's rhythm. "You must endure, Inuyasha. Draw upon your other half's stability of mind. No matter what is done to us, you must remain where you are. It is the only way to—" Sesshomaru grunted, his head snapping to the side and his breath leaving him in a moment of shock and splitting pain. From the bottom of his ear, to the corner of his mouth, his face was flayed open where the whip had struck him. He stood still in a moment of dizziness before warm blood pooled and seeped from the wound, streamed down his jawline and dripping from his chin.
The crowd whooped, pleased by the method in which Sesshomaru was silenced. Smiling, the torturer licked the end of the whip, tasting Sesshomaru's pure blood. By the look on the creatures face, it tasted far from terribly. "I'd shut up if I were you," the creature said with a condescending air. "Unless you want to lose your tongue, along with your lips."
The flogger administered another strike, catching the soft inner sides of Sesshomaru's thighs and forming a crease in Sesshomaru's glistening brow. Setting his jaw, Sesshomaru turned his head so that he was once again facing forward. His eyes, however, were shifted to the side, fixed on Inuyasha. And they radiated finality. This was not an instance where the hanyou could disobey him.
Inuyasha clenched his jaw as he watched his mate's blood be drawn and tasted. Tasted by someone other than himself. Ears flattening in anger, the hanyou was ready to yank on his bonds again, but found himself caught in the lord's gaze. Sesshomaru told him not to move... But if he stayed—they would be hurt, killed maybe. Conflicted, he swallowed heavily, trying to sort his confused thoughts. Before he was able to figure anything out, the whip sliced across his back. He hadn't even seen the creature move. Inuyasha tried to snap his jaws at the torturer but could not move his head enough to even look back. Leather met skin repeatedly, in rapid succession, until his now bruised back split and blood dripped. The spectators screamed and hooted their enjoyment, yelling for more blood.
The hanyou panted, glancing back at his mate. He didn't know how to use his other half's mental stability to his advantage. Nearly every time he took over was to protect—he didn't need to know who he was attacking or killing. He only had to protect. But.. Sesshomaru said he needed to be still. He didn't want to... His body was too hot and his desire to kill the ones hurting he and his mate was too strong.
Inuyasha clenched his jaw and tried to latch onto his other half rather than bury it. The youkai was to be trusted, they were mates after all—if he was told to endure this then Sesshomaru must have a good reason for demanding such a thing. Struggling some, the hanyou kept his other half far enough away from consciousness to protect him, but close enough so that he might be able to do what his mate told him to. The whip met his back again, this time lower, closer to his ass. The hanyou growled but didn't move. Claws pierced his palms again, doubling the number of bloody crescents etched into his hands as he tried to restrain himself, desperately attempting to use his human side's sanity, strength even weakness—anything that would help him.
Sesshomaru felt the entirety of his hair plaster itself unpleasantly to his stinging chest as it was shoved unceremoniously over his shoulder. The flogger was finally at his back. From here, onward, any teasing was in the past. Now, only hard, relentless brutality awaited them.
The firm, ferocious strikes across his shoulder blades began, weaving a web of criss-crossing welt lines and cuts. The process continued that way for some time, eventually ending at his calves. By that time, Sesshomaru's jaw was clenched so tightly, he questioned whether he would ever be able to open his mouth again. That inquiry was immediately forgotten when the devil's whip came down in a backlash so ruthless, he could distinctly hear the sickening, wet, blunt squish of his own flesh coming away with the corded leather, tearing from his throat a strangled gasp. He heard also the barbaric drumming of frenzied hands and feet pounding into the woodwork as the spectators' excitement grew. The youkai panted, vision swimming lightly. His impaled, beaten, lacerated legs began to shake under the increasing strain of holding up a body unaccustomed to being bled and beaten so incessantly. Not since he was a mere young puppet within a powerful domain, woven by pretense and lies, had he suffered pain near to the extent of this. There was a time where, eventually, his age and acquired skill had kept him free of injury. And then, there was Inuyasha—the one who was always able to mar him. Inuyasha introduced him to a different kind a pain. A pain and intrigue he always found himself roaming back to. But there was something besides the pain, brought forth by Inuyasha. No matter. That was all impossible to remember now. Soon, the only concept his body would be able to grasp—would be disgraceful, despairing perspective on this intentionally endured physical suffering.
The hanyou shuddered as the thick leather slapped against his skin again and again, lacing random patterns down his legs and across the backs of his arms. Some places seemed only to bruise while others ended in flayed flesh—depending on how many strikes the area received and what degree of varying force the torturer applied. Every fiber of his being begged for retaliation, but he couldn't allow himself to give in to the instinctual pull. The struggle was made worse by the presence and abuse of his mate, just out of his reach. Inuyasha needed to protect himself and the youkai. He knew that—it was an urge that went bone deep. But as he stood rigidly, with metal thrust through his thighs and with leather beating his body, the hanyou could not make himself move. The mark on his shoulder throbbed with the rest of his wounded body and Sesshomaru's demand was in the forefront of his mind, weighing heavily on his consciousness. He could only hope that his other half would aid in his ability to maintain control over himself.
As quickly as the lashes were wounding Sesshomaru's back, his healing abilities, despite the freshly healed injuries inflicted by Inuyasha's youkai and the lack of proper sleep, were working to lessen the severity of his wounds. Sesshomaru hadn't noticed he was sagging forward slightly until the whip's steady rhythm ceased and the crowd cheered anew. Before the youkai could turn his head to see what had drawn the spectator's attention, his head snapped backward and his back arched stiffly, face contorted with pain, as a lash across his back left his skin sizzling and pulsating with unwelcome power.
Then he sensed it.
He knew the flogger's whip was now glowing dully. The creature had fed spiritual energy into the cord of leather. In this moment, only that could have increased the level of pain. There was not enough of it to poison him—only enough of it to hurt like hell when it entered his blood stream, slowly draining him of power. Panting raggedly, Sesshomaru squeezed his eyes shut. He felt ill.
Inuyasha wanted to remain looking at his mate—to be comforted by the knowledge that they were both alive, at least—but the relentless strikes made it nearly impossible for him to keep his eyes anywhere but directed toward the ground as his head fell forward, hair slipping to cling to the lines of blood on his chest. Fighting against the need to stop this seemingly pointless abuse, the hanyou's chest heaved as the creature behind him paused in the flogging. Burnt ears fluttered as the crowd roared and he was tempted to answer them with a roar of his own. But distraction seized him, the foul scent of spiritual energy stinging his nose as he heard a whip crack, though no leather met his skin. Before he could look toward his brother, Inuyasha heard another crack, this one snapping in the air just above his head. It was hardly enough warning for the lash that followed it seconds later, leather laying into the flesh of his back. The leather felt, if at all possible, sharper. The hanyou could feel the agonizing ripple of spiritual energy over his skin, muscles clenching against the invasive power. It was the same sensation that he'd felt while protecting his other half—though, this time, he was much more conscious of the pain as it assaulted his body. Growling in response, as if the sound would chase away the ache and his tormentor, Inuyasha shook his head and unconsciously jerked at the chains holding him.
Sesshomaru had no way of knowing how much time had passed and how many lashes he'd received before the blood from his back was running down his legs. His healing abilities were no match for this onslaught of the energy which repelled all that was youkai. If his eyes had been rendered useless, if he could smell the scent of burning flesh, he would have sworn every inch of his backside, and throughout his diligent veins, was aflame. The heat and sweat that crawled over his skin was suffocating.
Something splattered across the side of his face. He needn't have been in his right mind to smell that it was the blood of the one who bore his mark—torn from his body with the same instrument that ate at Sesshomaru's flesh with the bitter promise of an end that seemed, instead of nearer, to be growing farther away.
His vision faded in and out of focus, obscuring what he could open his eyes enough to see, into a blurring mass. Sesshomaru could still make out the wicked shadow of the flogger, raising his arm again and again to slice and pound his already raw, deeply flayed flesh. Each strike from the blunt end of the whip sounded dull and wet.
How much time had passed? Hours? Minutes? Seconds? The youkai's powerful breath began to wheeze.
He felt as though his back was now one large crater, filled to its uneven, engorged rim with putrid, red pulp, and held together by a creaking base of picked bone and shredded muscle. No pause or warning was given before a hulking hand plunged into the skinless wreck between his shoulder blades. Sesshomaru choked, feeling something within him crack, along with whatever held his mind and pride in place. Sesshomaru's howl rivaled the roar of the crowd as his tormentor raked its claws all the way down his back, severing the mangled cords of flesh that happened to have remained connected, and delving deeper, still, than the whip had ever gone. White splitting his vision, Sesshomaru was forced heavily to his knees and into the stony ground. Gasping for breath, he clawed at the ground as cruel fingers danced in his flesh.
Head snapping to the side nearly immediately, Inuyasha listened, shoulder burning, with painful intrigue as his mate howled and watched then as the youkai fell. Under what sun did Sesshomaru think him capable of restraining his desire to kill the beasts torturing them—especially now? He ha barely stopped himself from harming his mate before. And it never before crossed his mind to stop one of his rampages—because his other half was not safe. Now, both his other half and his mate were in danger—yet, the lord had told him to remain where he was. No matter what. Even though he couldn't understand the reasoning, the hanyou had understood the solemnity and seriousness which his mate's voice had carried. But, watching as claws and fingers wiggled and twisted, further mutilating Sesshomaru's battered body, he was not sure he would be able to obey the youaki's command.
With his attention diverted, the hanyou hadn't noticed that his flogger had paused until the whip snapped across his back again—he'd been entirely focused on Sesshomaru. Answering with a growl, Inuyasha struggled to keep his attention on his mate as more lashes were distributed to his back, some along his bloodied thighs, and a few over his upper arms. The stinging throb of spiritual energy pulsated through his entire trembling body and made him dizzy. He was able to ignore the pain before because of the dire need he felt to protect his other half. Now, his other half was relatively safe. His mate, however, was not. Perhaps.. If he could draw more attention to himself, Sesshomaru might be spared some pain.
Mind set, Inuyasha forced a howl from his own throat, head falling back slightly as the cadence of angry and pained tones rose above the noise of the crowd momentarily. The spectators seemed to feed upon the sounds of the tortured and their cheers encouraged the torturers in turn. As expected, leather met his skin, hard and sharp, again and again until his vision blurred. There was a brief moment as the crowd hollered and hooted, watching as blood was shed, in which Inuyasha's entire body heaved with the effort of pulling air into his lungs and he vaguely heard his torturer step closer. Anticipating the creature's claws to be driven into his own back, the hanyou gave a weakened snarl to antagonize his tormentor.
Rather than fingers and claws scraping into him, Inuyasha's eyes widened as heated metal imbued with spiritual energy raked upward from the back of his left knee, over his ass cheek, and then through the mangled, tender mess that was his back. Before the hanyou even had a chance to register what was happening, the motion was repeated, this time with chilled and frigid metal, shocking his muscles with the rapid temperature change. The hanyou cried out, his pain and shock resounding against the arena walls as he tried to take a step forward, only to find his leg chained in place. There was a brief pause before the creature moved to repeat the process on his other side and in that moment, Inuyasha realized it was not a single spike of metal which had carved his body. There were five throbbing and aching lines into which his sweat dripped, the salty fluid stinging the wounds.
Again, the metal claws met his flesh, carving into his right side. First, it was the intensely heated metal which should have cauterized his wounds. But between the spiritual energy sapping his strength and the freezing metal which was to follow, his wounds remained open and he was left with the burning and sizzling of his mutilated skin. Next, the icebound metal made contact and cleaved deeper through his muscles, tracing the exact lines left from the first, heated set of metal claws. What was left of his muscles were desperate to repair themselves but were rendered incapable and were left clenching and twitching desperately. The coldness of the metal seemed to sink past the heat arching his body and his muscles were left in a shuddering confusion as to which temperature they needed to react to. Again, the hanyou voiced his pain, unable to withhold the sound as it tore through his ragged breathing as his knees hit stone. The wounds along the backs of his legs burned and stretched, tearing muscle past the damage already done.
Over Sesshomaru's own groans of agony, the screams of another echoed in his head. Eyes bleary, with sticky hair fallen around his face, he located the writhing, stooping shape of Inuyasha. Sesshomaru loathed the cries and the stench of blood which was never meant to be spilled at such an excess. It was hanyou blood he smelled, he remembered vaguely. But the recognition of hanyou blood was a fleeting, meaningless thought that no longer held any manner of importance. The youkai could not smell the filth of mixed blood. Why? Hanyou blood should have smelled as filthy as their combined, burning flesh. Had the scent of Inuyasha's blood ever truly repulsed him? Damned if he could recall. If the scent, in this moment, repulsed him, it would be easier to ignore. The smell of it would not further increase the beat of his erratic heart. Every fiber of his being would not fight so hard to force his pained body into optimal awareness when such blood was lost to the air and ground.
He knew not when the creature's hand had been removed to make way for the relentless continuance of the hellish cord of leather, but the change was apparent when the soft, unscathed bottoms of his feet were suddenly split open as easily as ripened fruit. Sesshomaru's hiss shifted into a strangled gasp as an omnipotent kick to his stomach wrenched him in his chains. The cause of his torment uttered something but his voice was muffled by the pounding in Sesshomaru's ears and by the inescapable screams of his mate. The chain, hooked into his useless, obstructed bicep, was then yanked, sending pain shooting up through his shoulder. Sesshomaru growled ferally when the sharp pulling did not desist. He still could not discern what was said when the barked order was repeated. A hand fisted in his hair and pulled, along with the chain, forcing him to his bloodied, aching feet. The mass of voices, recognized hazily as the crowd, roared in unison as the youkai's limp form was raised into the air, suspended, and slammed back down into the ground, forcing all of the air from Sesshomaru's lungs. The youkai lord's impaled thighs slid down the rods of metal which were now embedded in the ground. It hurt merely to breathe but he could not help the coughs that now wracked his chest and gut. Disoriented, Sesshomaru lied there, his ear and the side of his face smashed against stone. Even if he had the resolve to open his eyes, he doubted he would be able to make out the time of day. The spiritual energy coursing through his veins strewed red and black spots throughout his broken vision. The pain raged on, as did the looming presence of his brother. He began to fear that the agony would never end. That he would be trapped this way for all eternity. Only in Hell would the torment never leave him. Only in Hell would a hanyou be the reason for his compliance—as well as the reason for his inability to care solely for himself. Only in Hell would he fight his ability to block everything from his consciousness, simply for the small peace of mind that came with the sound of Inuyasha's breathing and desperate drive to live.
Between each bite of the whip, ignoring his own rampant bays, his dirtied hand inched forward in the dirt, stretching as far as it could possibly go in the direction of that sustaining voice.
Arched on his hands and knees, the rods still struck through his thighs, Inuyasha's claws scraped over the ground as metal was raked over his body repeatedly. His claws chipped and broke against the hard stone as he desperately clutched at it. There was nothing capable of warding off his pain now—his focus on his mate had been broken, just as his body was. With each inhale, his ribs made violent protests; striking pain through his torso. With each exhale, his pain was ululated as the cries tore, unrestrained, from his raw throat. Metal, both searing and glacial, carved his body and ripped his muscles with fierce perpetuation.
With the return of the whip, the hanyou keened his frustrations and pain as leather buffeted his mangled body once again. The thick material battered his wounds and wedged into the valleys left by the metal claws, tearing his flesh open anew as the leather was retracted brutally. He wasn't sure how many time his back was flogged before leather struck the quivering muscles and tendons at his partially bent elbows. First his right and then his left. The quick snaps of leather made his arms buckle and nearly numbed the limbs because of the spiritual energy that raced through his rigid muscles. Face colliding with the ground, Inuyasha felt the soft, vulnerable skin scrape against stone, and knew that more of his blood had been spilled. His vision was blurred and distorted as he tried to look at the creature standing over him, continually beating the leather over his flayed, bruised, bleeding body. Instead, his gaze focused on the slight movement in his direction. The hanyou stared at the enigmatic object until it moved no more, only strained against whatever was holing it back. A single word reverberated through his mind as the sharp scent of youkai blood pierced his clouded senses. Mate. The cries of his mate echoed in his mind along with his own and he reached out too, fingers scrabbling over bloodied stone in a desperate attempt to reach the youkai.
The chain around his wrist was pulled taunt but his fingers were still outstretched. And empty. His mate was too far from his grasp. Before Inuyasha could tug at the chain in a hopeless attempt to break the links, the skewers through his legs were wrenched on—jerked back and forth, viciously tearing through his muscles and he yowled, pain spiraling through his lower body. Knees failing, the hanyou collapsed completely on the ground and the flogging recommenced, desperation clutching at his chest.
Sesshomaru was not forced to stand again. Or if he was, he was not in a state of mind to realize it. There were times where he would dip into unfeeling blackness. He came to cherish those times; however frequent or infrequent they happened to be. During the times where his survival instincts flared, his awareness piqued, reminding him of his position on the ground—and of the humiliation, the impotency, the pain. Never had his existence been so excruciating. Every time darkness fell upon him...the sole reason for his torment escaped his comprehension and grew farther and farther from his notice.
Panic seized the hanyou's mind the first time he realized his mate had quieted completely. His grasp on his other half was released immediately—his other half would be safe farther away. But now, he had to protect himself and his mate. He wasn't sure how long he struggled to move, to stand, to fight back, but hardly anything happened. His limbs were leaden with the spiritual energy that coursed through his veins and stole away his strength. Inuyasha also wasn't sure when he realized that the youkai had merely lost consciousness. Relief flooded his entire being like a cool wave, but was no match for the burning compulsion which told him to break free and save his mate. No matter how much he tried though, he was barely able to lift himself to his hands and knees. The whip would force his body down and then metal would slice into his body. Exhaustion, distress, and the repetitive torture weakened him and made the hanyou wish to give into the tempting allure which came with the constant pain. He wanted to sleep. To close his eyes and have a moment without the continuing ache. Hearing as his mate lost consciousness again—he wasn't sure how many times Sesshoaru had blacked out now—Inuyasha realized he could not lose his own consciousness to the pain ruling his body. If he were to allow his other half to retake control—no. That was not even an option in his mind. Even if he could manage to keep control after losing consciousness, he would not be able to ensure his mate was still alive. Inuyasha's frantic struggles renewed as he tried to maintain consciousness, desperate to ensure both he and his mate would see this torture through.
When Sesshomaru regained consciousness, his ears rang with the noticeably less noise. There was no whip, no acclamation for their torment, no demeaning shouts. Now, only two prominent sounds remained. He heard a continuous, fluctuating growl; tired and weak, yet irrefutably rabid. There were also murmurs of frustration and threat, seemingly aimed in his general direction.
Sesshomaru opened his eyes with difficulty, first focusing on the bloody ground that cradled his raw face with jagged stone. The ground appeared to be illuminated by dim, dawning light. He blinked, opening his eyes to refocus his gaze farther away. He was relieved to find the spectators gone. Though that relief was short-lived when he noticed the armed guards attempting to approach him and Inuyasha.
Inuyasha.
Sesshomaru groaned quietly, turning his pounding head. First, he found his own arm, outstretched as far as his chains would allow it, in the direction of...
The nightmarish hanyou crouched down like a cornered animal, snarling as frighteningly as a severely wounded creature could. The figure before him was clearly Inuyasha's youkai, but its strength had been reduced to nearly nothing. It was pathetic and broken. Much like himself, Sesshomaru thought dryly. Sesshomaru was appalled to find Inuyasha upright. Not a single patch of skin failed to glisten with dark blood.
The approaching guards were likely ordered to release them, he realized. Sesshomaru did not wish to be touched any more than Inuyasha. But even more, he did not wish to remain where he was.
A guard inched closer to Sesshomaru and Inuyasha lunged, wincing when the chains stopped him and his muscles tensed with the impact. Chipped claws and skinned fingers scraped furiously at the ground as Inuyasha attempted to reach the fallen youkai.
Inuyasha needed to stop, he was killing himself. "Inu—" The youkai coughed, unable to recognize his own voice. His throat was miserably parched and swollen. "Inuyasha..." He rasped, blinking slowly as his damnable eyes threatened to close again.
Burnt ears fluttered and the hanyou paused momentarily, eyes immediately falling to his mate. Relief made his head spin as he reached out slower this time, still as desperate, trying to touch the lord again. He didn't stop growling at the approaching creatures though, his gaze nervously flicking between the youkai and those with weapons. His breath wheezed as he panted, throat constricted and sore, unable to form intelligible words—not that he was in the proper mindset to do such a thing anyway. His mate was the only thing occupying his frantic thoughts now.
Sesshomaru grimaced dizzily as he attempted to right himself without success. "Inuya—" Sesshomaru wrenched, coughing up a spray of blood. Whatever his tormentor had done with his hand, Sesshomaru was suffering fairly severe internal bleeding. He rolled narrowed, darkened golden eyes towards the sky, attempting to will away the looming brutes.
The hanyou's ears flattened as fresh blood splattered the already red ground. Shifting, but not moving any closer to his mate because of the chains holding him, Inuyasha gave a low whine and tried to reach Sesshomaru again, failing as he had all the times before. His mind was too tired to focus on much other than the youkai now—though he was still bristled at the presence of the other men.
Sesshomaru tried to steady his fatigued breathing as he glared at the various men. The armed men appeared to be deciding what would be done with the two wounded creatures once they were freed. One of them inquired to the rest whether anyone would notice if they killed the two youkai and dumped their bodies in the muck.
"Step away, you idiotic oafs," fumed a familiar voice. It was one Sesshomaru soon recognized as Hana's as she approached from wherever she had come. Whatever the reason for her arrival, the timing was appreciated. In this state, Sesshomaru was almost glad to see her.
Hello there. Thank you for all your lovely reviews and for following us this far. :) Oh. If you guys haven't noticed, we tend to post on Friday evenings.
You guys are great, we hope you will continue to enjoy this story we are writing on a whim. Comments, questions, and suggestions!
Also.
This up-and-coming week will be another difficult one for our beloved Conspiring Word Addict. She is a thyroid cancer survivor. This week, she will be receiving another bout of radiation and she will have to go off her thyroid medication during it. She will feel tired and sick.
So show her some love!
Ja ne.
Fourteen chapters and I finally make an appearance in the author's notes. I feel so special. :P Anywho, seems how I am the one undergoing the treatment, we thought it best if I explain a little. First off, it's just a precautionary thing since I have been cancer free for over a year now :D So, no worries, it's routine.
The major problem is that I will be off my thyroid hormone medication, meaning I will be lacking energy and will be very lethargic. I will still try to write, but I will not force it. And.. On a side-note: thank you 'The Inu-Pup' for those reviews, they were quite amusing and I think I may take you up on your offer for a rant at some point :) Oi, you got a special mention—do not take such a thing lightly.
And, because I am all for self-promoting... You people need to go read our most recent little one-shots and two-shot if you have not already. Like.. Now. They were joys to write and provided a nice break from this story. And surely reviews on those will also motivate us into writing more on Licentious Obsession :)
FYI: Titles of our stories which you need to read are as follows; Not When He Was Sesshomaru's Otouto, The Predator and the Prey, and What do I Mean to you? (the two-shot). Read them. We will love you even more.