Changing Wyrds
Chapter 13: To the Last Man
Kagome planted her third arrow in Hashiaku. He was only just beginning to show signs of wear, and Kagome was running out of arrows. Inuyasha was as quickly running out of steam. For a four against one battle, things weren't going as you would expect. Miroku had tried several times to get close enough to use his air void, but it was too crowded and he was afraid of sucking up the wrong person. Inuyasha was as dangerously reckless as always, and it only made him lose more badly. Shippo couldn't do anything against the youkai. As for Kagome, there was only so much you could do with a bow at short range.
Hashiaku raised his claws for the umpteenth time, slashing down at her and hitting Inuyasha instead.
"Inuyasha!" Kagome cried.
"I'm fine!" Inuyasha told her distractedly, eyes locked on his opponant.
"Be careful, you idiot! He's not an average youkai; you know that!" she scolded.
"If I didn't know, I would have left you to fend for yourself!" he shot back. Kagome would have answered, but Hashiaku had abandoned them for Miroku. The monk fumbled with the rosary at his hand, and thought better of it.
"Miroku!" shrieked Shippou. There was no way that they could get to him in time. They watched in horror as the talons tore through the air...and struck steel.
"Moto?" gasped Kagome. The girl held a katana in both hands, fighting the full weight of her master. Next to her was Kureru, a graceful looking ono in hand.
"Yes, Kagome-san?" she asked through clenched teeth.
"But where-" Kagome began.
"Not now!" Moto told her. For once Hashiaku wasn't stopping to talk. He was all business, and death was that business. The deaths of all in the room were included, but Moto's in particular he found himself craving. Betrayal by a woman was one thing he couldn't stand, one thing he'd had too much of. He'd wondered so long whether she was pretending, feinting for an advantage later. Now it became obvious, if the conversation she'd held with the hanyou bastard hadn't already convinced him. He took his anger, new and old, and poured it into his fight, wondering how the girl had become so skilled with the sword. He soon pulled out his own sword, a shortish blade that he hadn't needed up till that point.
He was fairly certain that the white-haired hanyou in the corner was insulted that he hadn't used it during their fight. Too bad he still didn't realize, none of them realized, that Hashiaku's poison was not so easily removed. Only his own death could cure a victim-- if they lasted so long. At this point, Inuyasha wasn't worth the muscles it took to grip the hilt.
His swing caught the girl Kagome in the arm. She cried out, and he scowled. Who cared if it was the wrong one? They were all traitorous wretches anyway.
Inuyasha had taken offense for Kagome if not for his pride, for now he rained blows on Hashiaku, who ducked lithely away from many of them. The fool had no idea, really; Hashiaku flared with annoyance and tossed the hanyou aside. He struck the wall with a thwap, and his friends were instantly upon him. Moto stayed where she was, sword pointed directly at his chest. It was easy to ignore strangers when your truest hope was laying a blade to your throat.
"You betray me?" he asked, keeping his voice level. It was something he'd learned to do well enough many years ago. How time would pass when you were not exactly mortal.
The girl, his girl, snarled at him like an angered pup.
"Bastard! I can't betray what I don't care about! The only reason I'm alive at all is to see you dead." Her eyes glittered with carefully aimed fury.
"That's a lie. You may want me dead, but vengeance isn't your only motive for living. You live for Kureru. For that mutt." He was rather impressed with the smooth uncaring of his voice. If such a tone hadn't, through decades of use, become second nature to him, he wasn't sure how he would have sounded.
Kureru didn't care to stay calm. He had been dodging in with unexpected blows the whole time, but what he really wanted was to kill Hashiaku. He took a step forward, and was pulled back by Miroku.
"Let her talk," the monk murmured. Kureru nodded, not quite resignedly.
"Maybe so," Moto said. "But I wouldn't have lived long enough to live for him if it hadn't been for how much I hate you." Her tone wasn't a match for Hashiaku's coolness. It was of rage barely held in check. She was a sly one, and she always had been. That was what he'd liked about her.
"Is that so? In that case, kill me. I suppose if anyone deserves it, you do." She laughed at his words. Laughed. That was something no one did to him. They feared him too greatly to risk his wrath. He knew all at once that he would kill her for all she had done. Not because he hated her, of course. Because vengeance knows no logic. There was no choice.
"I do deserve it," she agreed. The swing of her blade was as fast and bright as lighting. He didn't see it coming at all.
Inuyasha stared as the youkai fell. He could feel the others staring too. That puny little girl in the worn yukata had scored against Hashiaku as none of them had. He wasn't dead yet, but he was down. No one else had gotten that far.
They saw him rise, slow but determined. His face was more a mask than ever. Suddenly, you could tell he was a demon, a real demon. Short and stocky, he still managed an air of grace, even with anger-tensed muscles. Snow-white fangs peered like icicles from under his curled lip. His slits of eyes were as depthlessly black as his hair.
He looked at her, his eyes delving into her own. He had only used her, of course. There was no reason a demon would do anything more than use. But his eyes were as haunting as they were haunted.
/bastard.../
He was manipulating her still. How dared he? After all, there was no way for him to win, no way for her to lose. This was what she had lived for. Even if he killed her now, she would have won by turning on him. No, he couldn't manipulate her now. It was too late for him to do anything.
He struck her, but no sooner did she hit the ground than Kureru blocked him from her. She regained herself while they fought, then took her friend's place. She and Hashiaku were somehow even, although whether it was her strength or his weakness that made them equal she didn't know. Vaguely she realized that they were being watched with horrible fascination from the sidelines.
The moment she won was on her before she realized what had happened. There, in the blur of fighting, so caught up, she couldn't see what her own hand was doing. She had backed Hashiaku into a corner, not noticing that she had done. Her sword flashed with quick movement, blocking his strikes and sending forth her own. Anger drove her, and reflex. Reflex was what made her plunge the sword towards his gut as he raised his own weapon.
He didn't have a chance of blocking it, so he didn't try. He took the stab in its full strength, letting the pain of it snatch him away for a moment before he found himself staring into her eyes. He tried to avert his gaze, and found he couldn't.
"You'd better not apologize," she growled. He smiled, sort of.
"I won't. I did what youkai do. I can't apologize for that."
"I know."
He could have forced out some sort of declaration, of love or of loathing, but it was too late, and the words would have meant nothing. Instead he reached out a claw and gently raised a line of blood on her cheek. Let her puzzle that one out. It would be a lasting testament. An everlasting secret. After all, there would be no one to give her the meaning now.
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Author's Notes: This is it! Only the conclusion to go. Hope you're still interested... So, semi-cliff. Like...hill-hanger. Or possibly mound-of-dirt hanger. Oh well. Yeah...I kinda stole Kureru's thunder by sticking Moto in the fray. But I love her character to bits, so I just had to show her off. Plus, Hashiaku was definatly thinking more about her than Kureru, and I wanted to show that. So, there you go.
Later, and love to y'all who've been reading. Keep the peace, sistas + bruddas! 6.~
Chapter 13: To the Last Man
Kagome planted her third arrow in Hashiaku. He was only just beginning to show signs of wear, and Kagome was running out of arrows. Inuyasha was as quickly running out of steam. For a four against one battle, things weren't going as you would expect. Miroku had tried several times to get close enough to use his air void, but it was too crowded and he was afraid of sucking up the wrong person. Inuyasha was as dangerously reckless as always, and it only made him lose more badly. Shippo couldn't do anything against the youkai. As for Kagome, there was only so much you could do with a bow at short range.
Hashiaku raised his claws for the umpteenth time, slashing down at her and hitting Inuyasha instead.
"Inuyasha!" Kagome cried.
"I'm fine!" Inuyasha told her distractedly, eyes locked on his opponant.
"Be careful, you idiot! He's not an average youkai; you know that!" she scolded.
"If I didn't know, I would have left you to fend for yourself!" he shot back. Kagome would have answered, but Hashiaku had abandoned them for Miroku. The monk fumbled with the rosary at his hand, and thought better of it.
"Miroku!" shrieked Shippou. There was no way that they could get to him in time. They watched in horror as the talons tore through the air...and struck steel.
"Moto?" gasped Kagome. The girl held a katana in both hands, fighting the full weight of her master. Next to her was Kureru, a graceful looking ono in hand.
"Yes, Kagome-san?" she asked through clenched teeth.
"But where-" Kagome began.
"Not now!" Moto told her. For once Hashiaku wasn't stopping to talk. He was all business, and death was that business. The deaths of all in the room were included, but Moto's in particular he found himself craving. Betrayal by a woman was one thing he couldn't stand, one thing he'd had too much of. He'd wondered so long whether she was pretending, feinting for an advantage later. Now it became obvious, if the conversation she'd held with the hanyou bastard hadn't already convinced him. He took his anger, new and old, and poured it into his fight, wondering how the girl had become so skilled with the sword. He soon pulled out his own sword, a shortish blade that he hadn't needed up till that point.
He was fairly certain that the white-haired hanyou in the corner was insulted that he hadn't used it during their fight. Too bad he still didn't realize, none of them realized, that Hashiaku's poison was not so easily removed. Only his own death could cure a victim-- if they lasted so long. At this point, Inuyasha wasn't worth the muscles it took to grip the hilt.
His swing caught the girl Kagome in the arm. She cried out, and he scowled. Who cared if it was the wrong one? They were all traitorous wretches anyway.
Inuyasha had taken offense for Kagome if not for his pride, for now he rained blows on Hashiaku, who ducked lithely away from many of them. The fool had no idea, really; Hashiaku flared with annoyance and tossed the hanyou aside. He struck the wall with a thwap, and his friends were instantly upon him. Moto stayed where she was, sword pointed directly at his chest. It was easy to ignore strangers when your truest hope was laying a blade to your throat.
"You betray me?" he asked, keeping his voice level. It was something he'd learned to do well enough many years ago. How time would pass when you were not exactly mortal.
The girl, his girl, snarled at him like an angered pup.
"Bastard! I can't betray what I don't care about! The only reason I'm alive at all is to see you dead." Her eyes glittered with carefully aimed fury.
"That's a lie. You may want me dead, but vengeance isn't your only motive for living. You live for Kureru. For that mutt." He was rather impressed with the smooth uncaring of his voice. If such a tone hadn't, through decades of use, become second nature to him, he wasn't sure how he would have sounded.
Kureru didn't care to stay calm. He had been dodging in with unexpected blows the whole time, but what he really wanted was to kill Hashiaku. He took a step forward, and was pulled back by Miroku.
"Let her talk," the monk murmured. Kureru nodded, not quite resignedly.
"Maybe so," Moto said. "But I wouldn't have lived long enough to live for him if it hadn't been for how much I hate you." Her tone wasn't a match for Hashiaku's coolness. It was of rage barely held in check. She was a sly one, and she always had been. That was what he'd liked about her.
"Is that so? In that case, kill me. I suppose if anyone deserves it, you do." She laughed at his words. Laughed. That was something no one did to him. They feared him too greatly to risk his wrath. He knew all at once that he would kill her for all she had done. Not because he hated her, of course. Because vengeance knows no logic. There was no choice.
"I do deserve it," she agreed. The swing of her blade was as fast and bright as lighting. He didn't see it coming at all.
Inuyasha stared as the youkai fell. He could feel the others staring too. That puny little girl in the worn yukata had scored against Hashiaku as none of them had. He wasn't dead yet, but he was down. No one else had gotten that far.
They saw him rise, slow but determined. His face was more a mask than ever. Suddenly, you could tell he was a demon, a real demon. Short and stocky, he still managed an air of grace, even with anger-tensed muscles. Snow-white fangs peered like icicles from under his curled lip. His slits of eyes were as depthlessly black as his hair.
He looked at her, his eyes delving into her own. He had only used her, of course. There was no reason a demon would do anything more than use. But his eyes were as haunting as they were haunted.
/bastard.../
He was manipulating her still. How dared he? After all, there was no way for him to win, no way for her to lose. This was what she had lived for. Even if he killed her now, she would have won by turning on him. No, he couldn't manipulate her now. It was too late for him to do anything.
He struck her, but no sooner did she hit the ground than Kureru blocked him from her. She regained herself while they fought, then took her friend's place. She and Hashiaku were somehow even, although whether it was her strength or his weakness that made them equal she didn't know. Vaguely she realized that they were being watched with horrible fascination from the sidelines.
The moment she won was on her before she realized what had happened. There, in the blur of fighting, so caught up, she couldn't see what her own hand was doing. She had backed Hashiaku into a corner, not noticing that she had done. Her sword flashed with quick movement, blocking his strikes and sending forth her own. Anger drove her, and reflex. Reflex was what made her plunge the sword towards his gut as he raised his own weapon.
He didn't have a chance of blocking it, so he didn't try. He took the stab in its full strength, letting the pain of it snatch him away for a moment before he found himself staring into her eyes. He tried to avert his gaze, and found he couldn't.
"You'd better not apologize," she growled. He smiled, sort of.
"I won't. I did what youkai do. I can't apologize for that."
"I know."
He could have forced out some sort of declaration, of love or of loathing, but it was too late, and the words would have meant nothing. Instead he reached out a claw and gently raised a line of blood on her cheek. Let her puzzle that one out. It would be a lasting testament. An everlasting secret. After all, there would be no one to give her the meaning now.
____________________________________________________________________________ __
Author's Notes: This is it! Only the conclusion to go. Hope you're still interested... So, semi-cliff. Like...hill-hanger. Or possibly mound-of-dirt hanger. Oh well. Yeah...I kinda stole Kureru's thunder by sticking Moto in the fray. But I love her character to bits, so I just had to show her off. Plus, Hashiaku was definatly thinking more about her than Kureru, and I wanted to show that. So, there you go.
Later, and love to y'all who've been reading. Keep the peace, sistas + bruddas! 6.~