A/N - Please note, more graphic violence
o.O.o
It took several moments for Atsuki to realize he was in fact not unconscious. His eyes were closed, and that explained the darkness but it did not explain his inability to otherwise move. If he listened carefully, he could hear the erratic heart beats of those in the rooms nearest to his position on the stairs. How long would the miasma take to wear off?
He heard screams, screams from children. Gritting his teeth, he willed his body to listen, to move, to adapt, but nothing could move the paralyzing agent from his person.
At least, not until a burning warmth exploded throughout the citadel. The heat of it was almost unbearably uncomfortable, but it was better than listening to the helpless cries of his charges.
And then suddenly he was free. Atsuki did not hesitate to ponder how it had happened, he only sprang up and rushed down the halls as dizziness chased at him. He tore through Sesshoumaru's room at the last second to steal a weapon before bounding outside and following the sounds and scents of the girls. Their terror ate at him, enraged him as he had only been once before in his life.
He tore through the gardens, sprang around the impaled guards and unsheating the stolen blade, sliced the head from the male pawing at Kagome. "Let's go," he ordered, and grabbing her by the arm, dragged her over to Izayoi who was now cowering behind the male that stood to face them.
"You will pay for interfering, healer," hissed the male as he backed away, Atsuki's sword tip held level with the male's throat.
"Make a barrier, Kagome." He did not say anything else, only shoved her behind him to be with Izayoi when they were both free.
"My powers don't work on them," she whispered, and tried to stand but her knees buckled and she sank down next to her friend, both girls holding the remaining shreds of their kimono together as if that action alone could protect them from further damage.
A discreet sniff told him he'd arrived in time to prevent permanent damage, but that was all. He sighed and stepping back to them, keeping his eyes on the silent males watching them in the rain, he sliced open his palm and drew several quick symbols in the dirt. A shimmering green barrier domed around the girls, no taller than they were as they sat on the ground, no wider than they could reach. It was small, but it was all the magic he could spare. Already his vision was greying out around the edges.
And then he lunged at the demons, sword slashing as he ushered them away from the children. His eyes, already blood red, were the only sign of his slipping control. He was not a warrior, despite all the training he'd been given. He could kill, and cause pain, and protect, but only if he moved quickly. And so he lunged and charged and parried with all the speed he could muster and smirked in triumph when he sliced off the arm of one of the demons.
On and on it went, Atsuki's sword a quick silver of light in the dark even without the storm's lightning to make it visible. He'd just dispatched of the second male when five more landed in the blood soaked gardens. He swayed where he stood, already exhausted as his body struggled to fight off the last dregs of whatever had been in that miasma—but one look at the half-naked children staring at him from that barrier was enough to bolster another burst of savage rage.
Children. They were children but they had lost a part of their innocence now.
He roared and charged at the newcomers, his hands and face slick with blood and rain as it continued to pour down around them, each cacophony of thunder in beat with his pounding heart. He would kill them all.
Racing across the garden, he made quick work out of two of them as he sliced their heads from their bodies or impaled their hearts on his blade.
But Atsuki was not a warrior and rage fed battle fierceness could not outpace the remains of the poison still coursing through him. A well-aimed attack knocked the sword out of his hand, sent it flying across the gardens to thud, hidden, amidst blood and grass and mud. He resorted to his claws then, and his fangs, but found he was out matched against swords and daggers.
A deep slash across his side and chest stole his breath as another one knocked his legs out from under him and he landed on the muddy ground with a grunt, his knees taking the brunt of the fall. But still he fought, slashing out and disemboweling the one in front of him until his innards splattered out and the demon fell back.
Searing agony ratcheted through his back and the hare looked down to see a blade protruding from his stomach. He choked on his own blood as a hand fisted around his ears. "You can watch as we defile those abominations—and when they are useless, powerless, the West will fall and the rightful rulers of this land will take their place upon the throne again." Smirking, he freed the rope he'd planned to use on one of the girls and tied the hare's arms behind his back, over the sword so the weight of his arms held the blade in place.
Vaguely, as his eyes started to fail him, he heard someone shouting his name.
o.O.o
Word Count - 933