Warnings for this chapter: threats of violence and death, depictions of injuries, gruesome imagery, misogyny, toxic masculinity, horror elements, a brief description of the death of an animal, and the use of derogatory slurs and hurtful language
He shifted, sensation pouring into him again. Finally. He was alive. He could feel. He struggled to move, the confines of his flesh prison still closing around him. What was this life, this cursed existence? He thrashed. He twisted. He pressed against the binds which held him fast. He needed to be free.
"Do you want to come out?"
A voice, a familiar voice. He didn't know whose it was. He didn't know where it was coming from – it seemed to be surrounding him.
"I will fulfill your wish."
Tearing agony. Piercing pain. Light streamed into his consciousness as he fell away. Air rushed past him, hard stone crashed into him, and then frigid water surrounded him. He could feel the current tug him along, sweeping him along against his will, but he couldn't stop. Couldn't see. Couldn't move. Could only wait.
xXx
"I bet you can't catch me!" Shippo shouted, tugging lightly on Inuyasha's ear before he flung himself off his shoulder and scampered away as fast as his legs could carry him.
Inuyasha grinned predatorily. "Oh, you asked for it!"
He tore after the kit, laughing as Shippo squealed in excitement and disappeared through the trees. Inuyasha chased after him with absolutely no subtlety, crashing through the underbrush and cackling as he caught up. Miroku and Sango watched them with indulgent smiles and continued down the forest path. Kirara had apparently deemed herself too dignified for such nonsense, and instead deigned to sleep on Sango's shoulder. How she managed to do so while ignoring the shouts and yells coming from various distances around them was beyond the others. By the time Shippo clambered onto Miroku's head to claim sanctuary, he was panting and exhausted, leaves sticking from his hair in all directions. Inuyasha had mud splattered along the bottom of his robes and smeared across one cheek, and he was grinning from ear to ear. He poked Shippo on the nose as he passed and laughed at his squeak of protest.
Inuyasha caught Miroku's warm gaze on him and his smile shifted into something softer, more private. He snagged a hand in the monk's robes and dragged him in for a kiss, stoically ignoring the tiny hands which surreptitiously reached for his ears again. They had all determinedly decided that despite the lack of new Jewel shards or any sign of Naraku, they weren't going to search around the countryside in a panic. Something would come up sooner or later, and they'd deal with it when they did. For now, the winter sun was doggedly shining and their breath sent swirls of mist through the late afternoon sun. They were heading towards some lord's mansion, and Miroku had spent most of the day describing increasingly intricate tactics for how to con the man into letting them stay the night. Inuyasha's personal favourite was the phantom fire demon, though he wasn't keen on parading Shippo around the mansion to try and sell the ruse.
They soon caught sight of the mansion and quickened their pace towards it. Though the days were growing longer, none of them particularly wanted to be caught outside in the cold for much more that day. The grounds were fairly small and the mansion itself nothing extraordinary – they had passed through a village the day before which told them of the many hardships this area had faced. Regular attacks from weak demons had been one of them, which boded very well for their chances of landing a bed for the night. Miroku shot Inuyasha an excited grin as they approached and pressed their lips together one last time. They saw the guards in front of the gate and Miroku easily took the lead, waving a hand at them and calling out a greeting.
"My companions and I have come to offer our assistance to your lord," he told them somberly, a deep gravitas in his voice. "I fear that you may be in some danger."
The guards exchanged an uneasy look but stepped aside nevertheless. One walked off to alert the lord while the other watched them warily as they stepped into the courtyard. Inuyasha shifted a little closer to Miroku, bristling at the suspicious glances being sent at them from all the people moving around the mansion. He stilled when Miroku's hand subtly found its way to one of his, squeezing gently. Inuyasha's ears pricked as he heard the lord approaching and he nodded. Miroku's expression shifted into one of cool, calm professionalism as he stepped forward to meet them.
"I hear that you wished to speak with me," the lord said as he planted himself in front of Miroku. "Though why you would feel as though I had any desire to meet with you is beyond me."
Inuyasha stifled a growl but Miroku's expression didn't waver. "We merely came here to offer our services, my lord," he said politely. "You see, I have sensed-"
"Do you really expect me to believe any of this drivel?" the lord snapped, cutting him off.
"I apologize if you misunderstood my intentions," Miroku continued evenly. "I was under the impression that you would be concerned for the safety of yourself and that of your subjects and home."
"The only threat here is that of lowly conmen like you!" the lord continued, growing visibly angrier. "Leave before I make you leave."
"Under most circumstances, I would be more than willing to heed your advice," Miroku said, his voice gaining a slight edge. "However, I am a Buddhist monk. I cannot ignore potential harm presented to anyone, no matter how deserving of my aid they may be. I can offer some coin as well to compensate for your most gracious hospitality."
"Do you really think I'd stoop to taking money from a common thief?" the lord spat. "I have no need for your help, boy, nor do I see any need to humour lowlifes like you. My house has suffered enough without entertaining your filth."
Inuyasha's hands curled into fists and he saw Sango subtly reaching for her sword. He could feel dozens of eyes on him and shifted further in front of Shippo, who was pressed against his leg, heart hammering.
"I have heard of your misfortune here," Miroku said stiffly. "Perhaps you may not see fit to lower yourself to accepting my aid, but I will offer it once more nevertheless. I can purify the grounds and keep your house from being attacked again."
"Do you think I'm blind, boy?" the lord shouted, taking a threatening step forward. "I know of your kind, and you make me sick. You'd betray your own and sell your soul to the demons. I don't care if my house burns to the ground around me – I'd rather die than accept the aid of some half-breed's whore!"
A stunned silence fell over the courtyard as Miroku rocked back as though struck. Inuyasha sprang forward with a snarl, but Miroku threw out an arm to halt him in his tracks. The lord's frightened expression quickly morphed into haughty rage.
"That's right," he sneered. "Leave, and take your mongrel with you."
Several guards appeared around the courtyard, all holding spears or bo staff and glowering menacingly. Miroku's hand had found an iron grip on Inuyasha's arm, though his expression had shut off into a blank mask.
"We're going," he said evenly, dragging Inuyasha back with him for a few paces before he turned. He held himself rigid as they walked back out the main gates, not so much as glancing at the guards pressing in around them. He met Sango's furious expression with a steady gaze and shook his head almost imperceptibly. She growled and shoved her sword back in its sheath, picked up Shippo and Kirara and stalked after him. As they moved further away from the mansion, Inuyasha cast another look behind them, eyes blazing, but Miroku's hand pressed firmly against his back, pushing him forward.
They kept on going until they were back on the forest path, safely shielded from prying eyes. Inuyasha wrenched himself free from Miroku's grasp and stared hard at the ground, each exhale a low growl.
"We'll need to find somewhere else to stay for the night," Miroku said mildly. "We could return to that village from yesterday, but it's almost dark and it's a day's walk away."
Sango was staring at him, brows furrowed and lips parted ever so slightly, though she couldn't find the words. Shippo had hidden his face in her shoulder and had yet to come out.
"Do any of you know another place nearby?" Miroku prompted, clearly trying to push past what had happened.
"Kirara and I can take a look from the air," Sango said softly, glancing at Inuyasha. He still hadn't moved.
"That sounds good, thank you," Miroku said with a smile. Sango wished that she could believe it was real. She wrapped an arm around Shippo and climbed onto Kirara's back. She saw Miroku watching her as they left.
As the others disappeared from view, Miroku cautiously looked over at Inuyasha. He was still staring at the ground, his ears flattened to his skull, his claws digging into his own palms. Miroku suppressed a sigh. He knew exactly why Sango had left them alone, and though he appreciated the sentiment, he didn't particularly want to delve into anything right then. However, he could see that Inuyasha was in distress.
"Yash?" Miroku asked quietly.
There was no response. He sighed softly and crossed the distance between them in a few short steps and pulled Inuyasha into his arms. His partner's reaction was instantaneous. He crushed Miroku to his chest and held him close. Neither of them offered any words, and Miroku was internally grateful for it. It was probably something they should talk about eventually but…not now. He absently ran his hand through Inuyasha's hair and waited for the sickly pressure in his chest to subside.
Kirara landed beside them some time later, and he could already tell by Sango's expression how they'd fared.
"There's a village just past the mansion, but it's likely part of the lord's land," she said sighed. "It's probably better not to risk him finding us there. Otherwise, there's nothing in sight. We could pick a direction and hope to find something, or we'll have to backtrack to that village from yesterday. If we needed to, we could push through the night and hopefully get to Kaede's by about midday tomorrow."
Miroku looked up at the sky, where the sun was rapidly disappearing. The night wasn't terribly cold thus far.
"Would it be better to stay outside?" he asked quietly.
Sango opened her mouth then closed it again and shrugged. Shippo just blinked silently from her shoulder. Eventually, Inuyasha huffed and kicked the ground absently.
"If it's all the same to you guys, I'd rather not be around people right now."
"We saw a clearing just a little ways away," Sango said instantly. "Do you hear a river nearby?"
xXx
They all helped set up camp. They couldn't find a good fishing spot, so Inuyasha set off to find a deer or wild boar. Sango and Shippo searched around for any edible roots or plants while Miroku and Kirara gathered firewood. They stoically ignored the persistent, oppressive silence around them and instead huddled close together, taking comfort from each other. Miroku didn't fail to notice that Inuyasha was the only one staying apart. He busied himself tending to the fire and the wild boar he'd caught, and refused to meet any of their eyes. Miroku blinked up at the stars.
"It's been almost a month since we set out again," he said softly. "And the only Jewel shards we've come across were Kouga's."
"No plots from Naraku since Tsubaki, either," Sango sighed.
"Just give me one whiff of his scent and I'd track the fucker down," Inuyasha muttered, poking the fire aggressively with a twig.
"Something will happen eventually," Miroku shrugged. "We just have to wait for it to find us."
They spread their blankets close to the fire and curled up tight against the biting cold. Miroku watched Inuyasha jump into a branch of a nearby tree and tried not to feel disappointed. He closed his eyes and waited for sleep to come. It didn't. Despite all efforts, the lord's words were still swirling around his head. He thought of Inuyasha, of the drastic shift between trying to go after the lord and refusing to so much as look at them afterwards. They'd been so open with each other recently, learning to speak with and support one another, that he'd almost forgotten the deep hurt that lingered in his partner. The decades and centuries of mistreatment at the hands of humans and demons alike. It was little surprise that Inuyasha would retreat into himself. He had likely learned early on that if he couldn't confront a problem directly, then he had to push it aside. It was a behaviour that Miroku had witnessed many times early in their acquaintance. Inuyasha was used to being hurt and no one giving a damn.
It was some time later, when the quiet breathing of the others surrounded him and sleep was sitting just out of reach, that Miroku felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. He automatically reached out an arm and Inuyasha pressed wordlessly against his chest. He rested his brow against the top of Inuyasha's head and gently stroked his ears with one hand. It was something, at least.
"That guy was an asshole," Inuyasha muttered after a long while.
"He was," Miroku mused. "But his words don't matter. They're hateful and say nothing about us, only him."
Inuyasha ground his teeth and hugged the monk closer. "That doesn't make it better."
Miroku sighed softly into his hair. "No."
"At least you told him off," Inuyasha said. "At least a little. I'm glad you didn't let him get away with it entirely."
"Mm," Miroku said noncommittally.
"I just can't believe he said that," Inuyasha continued, quieter. "Pompous prick. You even put on your fancy face and he still treated you like dirt."
Miroku leaned back to look at him. "I'm sorry, my what?"
"You know," Inuyasha waved his hand vaguely. "When you go all stiff and formal. Talk like they do. And I know it works. I just wish he could have seen you as you really are."
Miroku blinked at him. "And who is that?"
Inuyasha frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Who's to say that the formal man who spoke to him wasn't me?" Miroku asked calmly. "Or the humble monk who just wanted to help? Or the conman, or the thief, or any of the other things he accused me of? Who am I if not all of that?"
"You're putting on an act, right?" Inuyasha said. "It's what you do."
"It's what I've always done," Miroku shrugged. "For as long as I can remember. I've always been what I needed to be to survive."
Inuyasha looked at him intensely, trying to see what lay just below the surface. "And?"
Miroku sighed. "I just don't know who I am outside of that."
"You're you," Inuyasha said immediately. "I've seen you. It's you that I fell in love with."
"I'm glad you can see that," Miroku said quietly, hugging him close and pressing his lips to his brow. "Sometimes I can't."
"Don't let assholes like him get to you," Inuyasha growled softly. "It's like you said – they don't matter. You matter."
"As do you, darling," Miroku whispered, meeting his eyes with startling intensity. "I know this got to you as well."
Inuyasha huffed. "It shouldn't – not after so long. They just keep on finding new ways of getting under my skin."
"And there's no shame in that," Miroku murmured, blinking slowly as they curled closer together. "It means you still feel. That you're still alive. There will always be people who lash out at those they disagree with or fail to understand. In some respects, we have to be better than them, but we don't have to like it."
"Bitter superiority," Inuyasha smirked. "I can get behind that. Just…" He traced his fingers down Miroku's cheek. "Tell me you're gonna be okay."
"Of course I am," the monk smiled softly. "Everything will be better tomorrow. And we'll still be here. He can't reach us beyond his words." He pressed a kiss against Inuyasha's lips. "Sleep, now, love."
They settled down closer to the fire and wrapped the blanket tighter around themselves. Inuyasha held Miroku tighter to his chest and stared out into the darkness of the forest around them. He could feel his youki still thrumming beneath his skin, but he angrily shoved it down. As tempting as it was, that wasn't what they needed. He knew that Miroku wasn't asleep yet, but the monk was quiet and still against him. He didn't have to smell the hurt in his scent to know that it lingered there, despite all insistence that he was fine. It made his skin crawl and his stomach churn and his heart ache.
And it wasn't just the dismissive way the lord had looked at Miroku, the way he'd treated him like something worthless. The man's words echoed through his mind again and again. He, his half-demon status, had been dragged into the insult as though his relationship with Miroku was degrading – like he'd tainted Miroku, somehow, by being with him. Inuyasha squeezed his eyes shut. He was used to the remarks about his own parentage, about being a half-breed or a mongrel or a mistake. But he'd never been used to insult someone else before. He'd never been used to hurt someone he cared about. It tore at him in ways he hadn't experienced before.
What Miroku had said was true – the lord didn't matter, when it came down to it. He was just one person. But Inuyasha wasn't naïve enough to think that it was just one person's opinion. They'd been careful before, in all the villages and houses they'd been in since he and Miroku began their courtship, they'd always been careful not to be too revealing for fear of exactly that. It broke his heart a little to know that their fears had been warranted.
It was something they'd have to deal with together, and they would. He'd just need to keep an eye on Miroku in the meantime. He knew when his partner was hiding, tucking his feelings away behind that mask of his for his own protection. It had taken him a while to see it, but once he had, it was fairly obvious. Miroku had always had to balance so much, so he was constantly weighing what was worth pursuing. He knew that the monk could put up with a lot – they all could, he supposed – but Inuyasha knew that it was his mission to make sure that they didn't have to.
xXx
He waited, time slipping past in an intangible wave. He could sense everything around him, their presence both grating and exhilarating. He hungered. He longed for freedom. He burned with the need to move and devour. He heard voices. Bandits, his mind supplied, looking for their next raid.
"What's that?"
They were moving closer.
"Boss, come over here!"
Yes.
"I've never seen anything like it."
Something poked at his side – the tip of a sword, maybe.
"It's alive!"
"Creepy thing."
"It's disgusting!"
"Kill it!"
The bite of metal, deep into the prison of flesh which surrounded him. It ripped free and he grasped unseeingly. His hand – he had a hand – wrapped around the sword and he held on tight. He pushed his way from the cage of muscle and sinew which surrounded him, revelling in the wind on his skin and the startled screams of the bandits.
"What is that thing?"
He turned towards them. He could hear them, could sense them and feel their presence brushing up against his mind, but no more. He couldn't see them. Couldn't speak to them.
"It…it doesn't have a face!"
He lunged. He captured one of them and tore him apart. Their fear rushed through him, sparked something in his blood. He reached for another, and another and another. Soon their noises stopped, but it wasn't enough. It had awakened something inside of him, something pressing and urgent. He needed more. He needed to know who he was – what he was! He was incomplete. He yearned for something with a bone-deep desperation which left him dizzy in its wake. He reached blindly for one of the men, searching for something. If he couldn't find who he was, then he would hunt down the answer. He would gouge and carve and tear until he felt right – until the frantic thoughts in his mind slowed and he was complete.
xXx
Miroku's eyes snapped open at the sound of something galloping towards them. It was just before dawn, the forest was quiet, and he could sense no danger nearby. And then Shippo collided with his stomach as he bounded around the campsite, Kirara in hot pursuit. Miroku let out a faint gasp as the wind was knocked out of him, earning him a groan from Inuyasha. He closed his eyes as his partner's arm wrapped around his middle and tugged him closer, and he obediently flopped over so that he was more on top of the hanyou. He tried desperately to fall back asleep. There was a trill, and a squeak, and a giggle, and the incessant pitter-patter of tiny feet. Inuyasha's ears twitched with each sound even as he buried his nose in Miroku's hair. A loud growl echoed through the clearing, and they both shot upright. Kirara was wiggling her butt in the air and then she pounced, sending both herself and Shippo rolling down the faint incline away from the camp. The kit's laughter intermingled with his ear-splitting delighted squealing. Inuyasha and Miroku both groaned loudly as they flopped back down. Miroku dragged the blanket back up over his head as he rolled onto Inuyasha's chest, hoping to hide from the world for a while longer.
"Come on, you two," Sango said, kicking them lightly. "We've got to get going early if we want to make it to Kaede's before dark."
Inuyasha glared at her from under his sleeve. "Rude."
She shot him a grin. "It's not my fault that I can actually plan ahead. Up."
Inuyasha caught Miroku's eye and they both weighed their options. Surely Sango wouldn't actually stab them, right? How much longer could they stay huddled under the blankets before she set them on fire? But, she did have a point. They knew the distance between their current camp and Kaede's village fairly well, and there wasn't anywhere to stay in between. They would need to use their time wisely, or risk spending another night outside. One hadn't been the worst, but there was a chill in the air that warned of snow. Inuyasha sighed loudly and used Miroku's shoulder to maneuver himself upright. He stretched for a moment before he caught the monk's hand and pulled him up as well. Miroku grumbled a little so Inuyasha leaned in and kissed him until he smiled. Sango handed them both some meat she had carved away from the last of the wild boar and they set off in the hopes that this day would at least be better than the one before.
xXx
He knelt by the river and stared back at his new reflection, blinking with his new eyes. No, it was no use. This face would not do. It was not him. It was insufficient. It was an insult! He tore it from his skin and reached for the next one. New eyes, new nose and mouth. No good. He threw it into the water and sighed a muffled sigh. The bandits would not do. None of them would do. He was more than them! They were worthless! He needed more.
More were approaching. Confidence. Purpose. Not so the younger of the two, but the man in charge knew what he was about. It was good. There was no question in him, no hunger. He needed that.
"Demon!" a voice called, and that was a good voice. Strong. Sure. "Are you the source of evil in these parts?"
He turned. Was he a demon? Was he evil? He didn't know.
"Master Musou," the other one gasped, and no, that one would not do. "That thing has no face! What is it?"
"Stay back and out of danger," the first voice commanded.
The sound of feet running and ragged breath slowly faded, while he could feel the first man watching him. Calmly. In control. Yes, he would do very nicely.
"Demon," he called out. "Where are you from?"
He grabbed a face. He hated this face, this worthless bandit's face, but he could not answer without a mouth. The eyes, too, let him see this other face. His future face. A good, handsome face. Musou, the other had called him. "Where, you ask? I don't know."
"Why have you done such a cruel thing to so many?" Musou asked. A monk. Well, he knew that he was not a monk, but he could learn. Maybe that was what he needed?
"Your face," he said, reaching for it. "Give me your face."
The face twisted in shock and horror before smoothing. "My face? Is that why you killed all those people?"
"Give it to me!" he shouted. He needed.
"You are nothing but evil," Musou said evenly. "And you must be destroyed. Perish!"
He raised his staff. It struck his face – his worthless face – and tore it free. No loss. He grabbed his new face, his rightful face, and pulled. Gouging. Tearing. The scream soon faded away. He felt his new face as he pressed it into place, blinking his new eyes. Yes, this was good. He returned to his reflection. A good fit. A noble face worthy of himself. He laughed. Finally!
He turned to the body, the crumpled form. So small in death. No more confidence. No more calm. Perhaps he shouldn't be a monk, after all. His clothes, though, would have to do. A man such as himself needed clothes, even if they were ratty and worn. He pulled them on. Satisfactory, but no more. He looked at the staff but kicked it away. No, that would not do.
He looked over the pile of goods from the bandits. The swords were rusted and chipped, but it was better than nothing. It would get him what he needed. He paused. But what did he need? Clothes, certainly, and money. Wealth. Power. And…something else. Something he could not place. Oh, well. He would find it soon enough.
Another approached. He looked over this new man thoughtfully. Fine clothes, a fine horse, a fine sword. A warrior. Yes, that was good. A warrior was a good fit. Not a good face, though. He'd already found his face. The warrior approached him, looking down at him from his horse. He didn't like that. He smiled.
"Hello! Do you like my face? It's pretty good, don't you think?"
The warrior reached for his sword. "Impudent wretch! Move or I'll slay you!"
He eyed the weapon. "That's a pretty nice sword."
"Why you-" The warrior swung at him, and he reached out to grab it. He looked closely at the blade.
"Oh, yes. This is a fine sword."
"Just what are you?" the warrior asked, and he sounded afraid. Pity. "A demon?"
The man's previous words had made him angry. These pleased him. Yes, let them fear him. They should. They would.
He took the sword. He took the clothes. He took the horse. He took the life.
He left the face.
xXx
Inuyasha ran through the forest as fast as he dared, Kirara barely keeping pace behind him. He could hear her strained breathing, but he couldn't risk slowing down. Not now.
"Are you sure about this?" Miroku asked from Kirara's back.
"There's no mistaking his disgusting stench," Inuyasha spat, not turning around. "It reeks of Naraku! Him and the smell of human blood."
Miroku felt Sango tense impossibly further in front of him and he couldn't help but agree. Would it actually be him, this time? Or just another incarnation? Would it be Kagura, or someone new? Was it an intentional trap, or coincidence? The uncertainty made unease prickle along his skin.
They cleared the edge of the forest and stumbled into an open field, intersected by a large river. The remains of a bandit's camp lay nearby, with a smouldering fire pit and several broken jugs of sake half-buried in the earth. About a dozen bodies lay scattered between the fire and the river.
"Are they all dead?" Shippo asked, clutching Miroku's shoulder.
"They're bandits," Inuyasha muttered, walking over to one of the bodies, which lay face-down on the ground. He turned the man over and then dropped him with a startled cry, horror twisting his expression.
"What's the matter?" Miroku asked, immediately jumping off Kirara's back and rushing over.
"He- His face," Inuyasha gasped. "His face has been carved right off!"
Miroku froze, staring instead at the body laying closest to himself. Sango obviously had the same thought, because she grabbed yet another bandit and turned him over. "This one, too!"
Miroku grabbed Shippo from his shoulder and put him back on Kirara. He didn't need to see this. He then walked over and turned the head of another body, and stared at the mangled mess of flesh and bone that remained of the man's face. The edges of the skin were ragged as though the entire face had been torn off. His eyes were missing. Miroku glanced around. Not all the bandits had the fronts of their heads visible, but all of those that did had their faces removed. Miroku was willing to bet that the rest had fared no better. Though blood splattered liberally across the ground, there were no wounds on the rest of their bodies. Miroku didn't want to think about the implications.
"Every last one of them had their faces hacked off!" Inuyasha ground out.
"Let's get out here," Shippo pleaded from Kirara's back.
"I've never seen anything like this," Miroku muttered. "I've never even heard of a demon doing this."
"Naraku has to be behind this," Inuyasha growled. "His scent is all over this place." He swallowed hard, looked around a little desperately. "But why? Why would he steal their faces?"
xXx
He rode into a village. The people were screaming around him. The sound of an alarm bell rang through the houses. It made his blood sing and pleasure thrum through his limbs. He struck them down as soon as he could reach them. His laughs mingled with their screaming. Yes. This was what he needed. He was not yet satisfied, not yet complete, but it was part of what he had been missing, at least. The fear on their faces, their fear of him… Yes. This was good.
But they were poor. He could gain nothing from them but their deaths. There were a few coins, a little gold and jewels, some fine pottery, some silk here and there, but that was all. It was not enough. He took one of the pots and threw it angrily, watched it shatter against a rock. More! He wanted more. He needed more!
He turned his gaze to a mansion he could just see near the edge of a forest. Maybe that would give him what he needed. Rich men with rich clothes, gold and coin, priceless objects… Yes, it was a good thought. And if that didn't satisfy him, then he would move on to the next village or castle or anything else after that.
xXx
Kikyo looked over the wound on the man's leg warily. The infection had faded significantly after several rounds of poultice and cleansing spiritual power, but he wasn't safe yet. It had been allowed to fester for too long in dirt and grime. Such was the case in so many battles these days. These men were the lucky ones. Countless lives were needlessly lost in their masters' pointless skirmishes for power. She sighed softly. When would it end?
"My lady Kikyo!" another of the men shouted from the edge of the camp. "Someone's approaching!"
She stood and followed the man's gaze until she could hear the sound of frantic footfalls crashing through the underbrush, accompanied by ragged sobs. She easily intercepted the path of the frightened soul. He was young, barely more than a boy, dressed in the regalia of a monk.
"Halt," she called out to him, keeping her expression calm as he turned eyes wild with panic to her. "What's the matter? What causes you such fear?"
She reached out for him but he dropped to a crouch, covering his head with his hands, whimpering and shaking with absolute terror. She bent down, trying to meet his gaze.
"You needn't be afraid here," she said softly.
"My master-" the young man gasped. "He- He killed my master! That monster killed him and stole his face!"
"How cruel," Kikyo murmured, shaking her head. "Who did it? What was it?"
The young monk swallowed hard. "It was a man- a monster- He was faceless! It was just a blank mask, like paper. And he was…smooth? It sounds so strange, but there wasn't a single mark on his skin except on his back."
Kikyo frowned. "What was on his back?"
"It was this scar, it was twisting and reached out across his ribs and shoulders like a spider's legs." He sobbed raggedly. "It was horrible! So horrible!"
It was clear that she would be getting no more information from him. That was alright – she already had enough. She turned to the men hovering a ways away.
"Bring him to the camp. Ensure that he rests and is treated well."
"Of course," the men nodded, reaching for the young monk with careful hands. But she did not return with them.
She turned her face to the wind and let it wash over her, bringing a tinge of evil with it. The mark of a spider on his back? This had to be another of Naraku's incarnations. There was no telling what his plan might be this time, what atrocities he would commit. But attacking a monk? What could he be up to this time? She could feel the incarnation's presence lingering at the far corner of her mind. So be it. This may be yet another ploy, but she had no choice. She had to find out what was going on.
xXx
They tracked the meandering trail of Naraku's scent through the night, pushing past the exhaustion that tugged at them. They found the mangled body of a monk lying upriver and that of a samurai lying on the road leading to a village just after dusk. The monk's face was gone, but the samurai's wasn't, though moth had been stripped down to their underclothes. What had changed? They reached the village long after dark. Everyone had been massacred. The houses were blackened and burned. No one was left alive. Inuyasha followed the scent through the overwhelming stench of blood and death. He stopped at the edge of the houses, looking beyond the fields to the lord's mansion looming in the distance. Inuyasha caught Miroku's eye and they shared a grimace.
Some of the guards lay outside the mansion's walls, while the vassals and servants and other members of the lord's house were mostly inside the smouldering buildings. Once again, there were no survivors. They found a horse covered in Naraku's scent lying in the courtyard, arrows sticking from the poor creature at all angles. Naraku's trail picked up more sharply after that. Inuyasha knew that they had to press on, to find Naraku or this monstrous incarnation as soon as possible…but he had to see him first. He knew he was there. He picked his way through the bodies, deeper and deeper into the mansion until he came upon the lord. He was slumped on the ground, his outer robes stripped away and his jade and gold jewellery gone. Inuyasha sighed. He'd hated this man, but he never wanted this. He would never have asked for this.
He picked up Naraku's scent again and frowned as it turned around after reaching the mansion, veering off to the side and continuing on in a completely different direction that it had been heading in before. It was the same direction they'd been heading. Inuyasha heard the others come up behind him and saw the horrific realization cross their faces.
"That's towards Kaede's village," Sango said softly, glancing between them with an edge of panic. "You don't think-"
"Inuyasha, how fresh is the scent?" Miroku asked sharply, already climbing back onto Kirara.
"He probably left the mansion before nightfall, but it's a full day's walk to Kaede's village," Inuyasha said, running a hand through his hair and swallowing hard. "He's on foot now. There's no scent of other demons and he's not flying or travelling by miasma or anything. He- He can't have gotten there yet! We might be able to catch him in time!"
"Come on!" Sango shouted, grasping onto Kirara's fur. "We have to hurry!"
Inuyasha tore off in front of them, his flaring youki lending new speed to his aching muscles. It was what they'd been worried about for months, but it had been so long that he'd almost put it out of his mind. It didn't make any sense. Why now? Why like this? Naraku would never lower himself to attacking on his own, on foot – and why kill all the other people? This had to be another incarnation. Whether they were acting on Naraku's orders or not didn't matter. He needed to stop them either way.
xXx
Something pulsed through him as he stood at the edge of the steep incline and looked down at the village in the distance, framed by the afternoon sun. What was it about that place? Why did it feel different? Why did it feel like it was…calling him somehow? He took a step forward and images flashed through his mind, painful and jumbled and still just out of reach. A fire. A cave. Large, dark eyes staring down at him in a startlingly pale face. What did it mean? Was this something from his…past? Did he have a past? Surely he must. He had to have been someone! This village held the answers – he just knew it! He would find out every secret it held. He would kill everyone inside if he had to.
He began towards the village once more before an angry voice sounded from behind him. "Hold it right there!"
The incarnation spun around, looking at him haughtily. Inuyasha landed a safe distance away, looking him over. He was dressed in rich armour and fine robes, and had three expensive-looking swords sticking from the obi around his waist. His long hair was unbound and he was splattered head-to-toe in blood. And he reeked of Naraku.
"Who are you?" the incarnation snapped.
Inuyasha scowled, placing a hand on Tessaiga. What was with this one? "Someone who's been looking for you, you bastard!" His ear flicked at the buzzing that sounded overhead. He spared a glance to see a few Saimyosho weaving in and out of the trees. He turned back to glare at the incarnation. "Where's Naraku?"
"Naraku?" the incarnation asked, no hint of recognition on his face.
"Don't play innocent!" Inuyasha snarled, even though he had no idea what to expect at this point. "You're another of his incarnations, you monster!"
He took an involuntary step forward. Hope? Was this what hope felt like? "You know about me? Do you know who I am?" He pulled out one of his swords and held it up at the newcomer. "Tell me everything. Tell me who I am!"
Inuyasha growled low in his throat. He could hear Kirara land behind him, heard the heartbeats of the others pick up as they took in this new incarnation. He moved further in front of them, shifting uneasily.
"He's the one behind all the killings?" Sango asked quietly.
Miroku slid off Kirara's back and moved to Inuyasha's side. He shared a tight-lipped frown with Inuyasha before he looked back at the incarnation. "Are you the one who killed all those people? Did you take the faces of the bandits?"
The incarnation laughed freely. "Yeah, that was me. But they were all so ugly, I couldn't use them! I mean, who wants to look like them, right?" He smiled broadly and ran his hands over his face. "But this one is beautiful, isn't it?"
Inuyasha snarled softly. "Did you steal that face, too?"
"Mhmm," the incarnation grinned. "I wanted a handsome face. And money, fine clothes, jewels, women… I wanted it all. And I took it all!" He paused, shook his head, a scowl sliding across his expression. "But it's not enough. Something is missing. Tell me." His eyes met Miroku's steadily. "What is it I crave?"
"Why you-" Inuyasha bit out, pulling Tessaiga free, horror-edged disgust ripping through him.
"He's not joking," Sango muttered. "What is Naraku aiming for with him?"
Miroku glanced at the Saimyosho above them. Watching. Was that it? Was that how Naraku saw them – looking through their eyes, reflected in Kanna's mirror? They usually weren't so conspicuous. Naraku was keeping an especially close eye on this incarnation. Why? What was different this time? He turned his gaze back on the incarnation.
"You attacked the village and the mansion," he said, ignoring Inuyasha's warning glance. "You burned them both down. Why?"
"I thought that if I killed someone, it might help restore my memories," the incarnation shrugged carelessly. "It didn't work, but I did have myself a good time."
Inuyasha shook his head minutely. "Just what the hell are you?"
The incarnation's face twisted in anger, and his eyes blazed. "I told you, I don't remember!" He froze and his expression quickly shifted into delight. "Oh, I know! How about Musou? Yes, call me Musou. Not bad, is it? It's the name of that monk who gave me this face." He smirked. "Kind of him, wasn't it?"
"Gave you his face?" Inuyasha snarled. "You killed him for it!"
Musou stared at him with honest confusion. "Why are you looking at me like that? What was he to you?" A deep scowl slashed across his face. "Stop looking at me like that! I don't like it!"
"The feeling's mutual," Inuyasha growled with barely-contained rage.
Musou sniffed delicately. "You know, I really don't like the look of your face. Tell me, have we met before?"
"Aw, to hell with this!" Inuyasha shouted, lifting Tessaiga, pushing past Miroku's quiet protest. "I'm done talking! I won't let you get away with what you've done."
"Ha!" Musou grinned. "Just try it!"
He lifted his sword and began walking threateningly at them. Inuyasha immediately threw himself at him, taking off Musou's sword arm with a single sweep. The incarnation cried out and stumbled back, looking more surprised than anything. Inuyasha stepped back and waited – he knew better than to think it would be over so easily. He could hear Miroku and Sango getting into position behind him, weapons at the ready. Musou was looking at the stump of his arm in obvious confusion, and it didn't take Inuyasha long to realize why. Not only was there no pain in his scent, but there was no blood coming from his arm. It had broken cleanly, far more cleanly than a severed limb should, and was solid flesh-coloured across the stump, with no hint of muscle or bone. It looked almost like clay or something!
The buzzing increased around them and Inuyasha tore his eyes away from the incarnation to glare up at the Saimyosho. The insects had more than doubled in numbers and were flying around Musou in an increasingly tight circle. One of the insects dove for the stump of his arm and bit into the flesh, hanging on tightly with its jaws. Musou was still, watching the insect with visible confusion. Another insect soon joined the first, followed by another and another. They bit onto each other, forming a long, swarming mass of their bodies. And then light pulsed from them, and they began dissolving and compacting, and eventually vanished into a perfect-looking arm. Musou gasped and twisted his arm back and forth, testing out the limb.
Inuyasha shrank back in horror, and instinctively snatched at Miroku's wrist as the monk shifted closer to him. "Don't!"
Miroku met his gaze evenly and pried his right hand away. "I know."
"Ha ha!" Musou laughed, wiggling his fingers pointedly at them. "I'm more amazing than I thought!" He examined his arm for a while longer before he turned back to them and pointed down at Kaede's village. "So what's in there that's so important?"
Inuyasha lifted Tessaiga, eyes darting to the village. "What're you talking about?"
"Something about that place is calling me," Musou said softly, looking over the houses as well. "If I slaughter the villagers, maybe this time I'll remember something."
Inuyasha was running at him before he'd finished the sentence, bringing Tessaiga down on him. Musou lifted his arm to block the blow and instead the limb transformed into three long, whip-like tentacles which grasped the Tessaiga, stopping it in its path.
"What?" Inuyasha gasped.
"Ha!" Musou cried out delightedly. "Oh, yes. This will do just fine!"
Miroku rushed forwards, cutting through the tentacles with his staff. Musou frowned and shook out the limb experimentally, watching the severed ends of the tentacles regrow before he sent them flying at Miroku. The monk quickly blocked two of them with his staff, but the third segment glanced over top of his shoulder, tearing through his robes and leaving a bloody gouge in its wake. Inuyasha leapt at Musou, intent on clawing him apart with his bare hands, but the whip-like limb shot at him next, striking him across the cheek and chest and sending him flying.
"No you don't!" Sango shouted and threw Hiraikotsu at the incarnation. Several more tentacles shot from his arm and he threw them all at the weapon as it reached him, slapping it away. Hiraikotsu struck a nearby tree and stayed buried there.
Miroku dragged Inuyasha to his feet but didn't let go of his tight grasp in his robes. His eyes were fixed on Musou, trying to figure out this new threat. They certainly had a fight on their hands, but what else was there? Naraku was too clever for this. What else was there?
As Musou took a step towards them, Inuyasha tore himself from Miroku's arms and flung himself at the incarnation. He cut through several of the tentacles which reached for him, but one snagged around his throat and dragged him to a stop, squeezing firmly. He gasped in pain as the pointed end of the tentacle bit deep into his skin. He tore at it with the claws of his free hand, but Musou didn't give him a chance. With a yell, he lifted Inuyasha higher into the air and then slammed him into the ground before drawing his arm back.
Miroku skidded to a stop in his knees beside him, hands frantically brushing over his throat to assess the damage before his eyes snapped up. He lifted his staff and threw up a barrier just as the tentacles shot at them again. They quickly wrapped all the way around the dome of the barrier, searching for a weak spot and crackling slightly from the spiritual power. The barrier began to pulse, showing signs of cracking, but Sango got there first. She threw Hiraikotsu at the limb from where she'd dug the weapon from the tree. It cut through the whole mass of tentacles and sent them dropping to the ground.
"How dare you!" Musou snapped, reaching his arm back before he flung it forward, even more tentacles shooting at her. Hiraikotsu had yet to return, so she ripped her sword free and sliced through the tentacles while jumping back. Kirara rushed to her side and bit through them as well, but Shippo was still clinging to her back, so she was careful not to let any of them reach her. Sango shoved her sword back in its sheath and caught Hiraikotsu, immediately lifting it above her head to throw it again. Instead, tentacles shot around her waist and shoved her back just as she released the weapon, sending it off course and slamming her against a tree. Inuyasha leapt at Musou and cut off the arm at the base while Miroku ran for Sango, slicing through the tentacles with his staff and a wave of spiritual power.
But Musou was a fast learner. His other arm quickly elongated, ripping through the sleeve on that side as well into a writhing mass of tentacles. They caught Inuyasha, tearing gouges across his arm, his side, his leg, and wrapping around him to try and hold him still. Inuyasha roared and he cut through the tentacles, amber light flowing from his claws. Miroku and Sango were soon at his side, freeing him and cutting at Musou with sword and staff and sutras. The incarnation stumbled back under the force of their attacks, his body being ripped to shreds. As soon as Inuyasha regained his feet, he shoved Miroku and Sango behind him and lifted Tessaiga, pulling the Wind Scar to his mind. He hurled it at Musou will all his might, catching the incarnation head-on. He cried out and flew back, tumbling wildly down the steep incline leading from the forest to the fields. Inuyasha swore and chased after him – he could still hear a heartbeat, and he wasn't about to let this monster get away!
Musou rolled to a stop in one of the rice paddies and gasped as he pushed himself up to his hands and knees. His robes were hanging ragged from his form and one of the two remaining swords had fallen from his waist. Inuyasha dropped down onto one of the elevated paths bordering the rice paddy and stared down at him for a moment. The Wind Scar had left deep gouges down his body, but they were quickly healing. Inuyasha lifted Tessaiga to finish this.
And then a scent reached him, carried on the breeze, and he froze. His head snapped over to see a figure standing further down the elevated path, just in front of the village. She was watching them calmly, standing utterly still. What was she doing there? Why come back here, now of all times? It couldn't be a coincidence. Inuyasha turned back to Musou and his heart clenched in horror as he saw the incarnation staring at her as well, something predatory in his eyes.
Inuyasha threw himself at him with a shout, but Muso shot his appendages at him, which slammed into Tessaiga and him and one tore straight through his shoulder. He was flung back and he slammed into the ground, the air knocked from his lungs.
Musou stared at the figure, the swath of black, white, and red. That woman- Memories tore through his mind. The cave. Those eyes. That voice. The woman. Emotion surged through him, though he couldn't put a name to any of them other than the intense need which drove him forward, to step onto the path and stumble towards her. Who was she? He- He knew her! He remembered her, even if he couldn't place her name. He reached for her with shaking fingers. But there was something wrong, a bone-deep unease which told him that things were not as they should be. Somehow, he knew that she shouldn't be standing there before him. She had been torn from his side, torn from his grasp. She had-
She had died.
He stumbled to a halt.
This woman, whoever she was, was supposed to be dead. He had seen her die! So why- How-
Inuyasha crashed into him and tackled him to the ground, barely pausing to readjust his grip on Tessaiga before he sliced off both of Musou's arms. The incarnation writhed and spun around, so Inuyasha slashed a deep cut across his chest.
"No!" Musou gasped, thrashing wildly. "That woman- I need to get to that woman-"
He cried out as several sutras landed on him and burned their way into his skin. Inuyasha could hear Miroku and Sango running up behind him but his eyes were fixed on Kikyo, on the way she was simply watching them with a detached air. Conflicting emotions churned in his gut. He knew that he had to protect her, that there was no way he was letting this incarnation hurt her, but… What was she doing there? He… He didn't want her here. The very realization hurt. He wanted her to be safe and unharmed and away from him. Not just watching them struggle and fight as she had before, not lifting a finger to help. Inuyasha shook his head. He couldn't deal with any of this right now. He needed to focus on ripping this incarnation to shreds.
Sango landed beside them and without hesitation, she plunged Hiraikotsu deep into Musou's torso, cutting him in half. His body cracked apart just below his ribcage.
"No!" he shrieked in a frenzy. "Let me go! I need to get to that woman!"
Spines protruded along his body, shredding through the remnants of his clothing and piercing through both Inuyasha's and Sango's arms. Tentacles were growing from both his shoulders as well, and they wrapped around both of them, lifting them up and away from him. He lifted to his feet, his legs elongating as well, his torso knitting itself back together. Miroku threw himself at Musou with a shout, his staff cutting through swaths of tentacles, batting aside the appendages which reached for him. Inuyasha and Sango joined in the struggle, tearing through their binds with claws and hidden blades respectively. But more and more demon parts were bursting from Musou's skin. A tentacle shot out and wrapped around Miroku's ankle, tugging him off balance and sending him crashing to the ground before dragging him up into the air. Musou barely spared him a glance before he threw the monk far into the air, across the rice field. Inuyasha shot a wild look after him, just long enough to make sure that Kirara would catch him, before he flung himself at Musou. Tessaiga had dropped from his hands, but he didn't bother searching for it. He tore at the incarnation's flesh with his claws, his vision flashing red. Musou roared, an inhuman sound, and ripped him away with tentacles wrapped around his middle. He lifted him up and flung him into Sango, knocking her down in the process.
And then Musou heaved himself back onto the path and ran towards Kikyo. Kikyo, who was still standing, still watching them. She didn't so much as flinch as his long, spindly arm wrapped around her and wrenched her to him.
Musou gasped for breath. Those eyes… Her large, dark eyes were looking at him calmly, dispassionately, but there was something there. Something that stirred emotions deep inside of him.
"I have you now," he muttered. "How do I have you? How are you here?"
"You have been seeking me," she said calmly. Her voice sent a shiver down his spine.
"You are the one," he said. "You're what I've been missing. You're what I've wanted all along!"
He threw his head back and laughed. Behind him, Inuyasha stared after them with horror on his face.
The next chapter is going to be a bit shorter so I'll try to post it on Tuesday. I'm telling you this to try to motivate myself to actually get it done, but everything also really sucks right now so please don't be mad if it comes on Friday instead. I also haven't heart from any of my readers here for a while! Please leave a comment about your thoughts on the story so far, the direction it's going, all that jazz!