Fog is masking my thoughts. I know they are there, but I cannot find them
through all the smoke in my face and eyes. I can't think of anything else
but finding my way through this strange white wasteland.
I . . . I'm suffocating. The heat in my own body is burning me with an impossible fire. Instead of cool, as fog should be, it is wrapping its slender fingers round my throat and squeezing with all the might and strength of hell. But I don't fear the hell. I welcome it, my hands putting themselves over the alien monster's and helping it to strangle me. In spite of my incredulity at my own actions, I grin.
Then, as quickly as I found myself there, the misty plains are no more. The sun claws its way into my narrowed eyes. Was that all a dream? It must have been, for here I am, lying on the ground, feeling exhausted.
No, it wasn't. Memories pour slowly, like oil, back into my head.
"He's coming around!"
I agree. I am coming around, though this feeling is not something I've felt before. Sure, I'm fairly certain I'm covered in wounds, which is not anything new, but this horrible void in my head . . .
I had been dying. The poison from that low-life youkai was filling me up like an empty bucket, and I was fading fast. I was furious when I couldn't even move. Me, helpless! I half-thought the frustration would make my blood boil enough to eradicate the venom. I had been hoping that I would get out of this . . . to stop that damn youkai from killing the people . . . to see Kagome again . . . just to live . . .
Then it seemed like I fell asleep, and here I am. I make an attempt to sit up, which is assisted by Kagome.
"Inuyasha!" She smiles, her eyes full of unshed tears. Dumb girl, always crying; doesn't she know that nothing ever happens to me?
But if nothing happened, why am I so weak? And these wounds all over the place. There's blood, too: blood splattered on the dusty ground and on my clothes.
There is blood on my hands as well, buried deep underneath my claws.
"Ugh!" I lean forward suddenly, and Kagome places her hands on my chest as if to catch me. The whole place reeks of human blood, and before I even look up, I know what is here all around us. Miroku grabs hold of my arm and hauls me to my feet. I try to shrug him off and get out a 'keh,' but the horrible scent floating on the air keeps me from resisting his aid. A very fearful voice inside my head wonders what has happened, even though I think I know the answer. We both hope that I am terribly, terribly wrong.
Chills and shudders are concealed in my clothes as they run up and down, up and down until I feel as if I am drowning in icy water. The shadows and ghosts of men lie strewn across the ground like so many shed autumn leaves in unnatural sleep. Their eyes stare unblinkingly into me and through me, to their own blood on my murderous hands.
The fearful voice is thrown into horror, and shame as well. I killed them.
I have hated my brother for the slaughter of humans for as long as I can remember, yet I am like him. Suddenly my hair is long and silky, my eyes cold with a dreadful sangfroid, and my smile is something that all creatures on the earth have come to fear. I have taken what I hate and made it a part of me.
I cannot help to cast a glance at my companions. I am a monster now, like all the other youkai. Perhaps they will not slay me today, but the doubt has appeared in their minds about my restraint. I can see the foundations of fear in Shippou's eyes, and that is just as painful as death.
When it is for protection, I could very well go mad with the power rushing through me, as I have today. Then, when all the enemies are gone, where will I turn for blood?
Not facing them, I ask uncharacteristically quietly, "Did I do this?"
But I know, as they all do, that it is human blood that is on my clothes, and their blood that hides under my nails like a cunning parasite that I will never be able to separate from myself.
I . . . I'm suffocating. The heat in my own body is burning me with an impossible fire. Instead of cool, as fog should be, it is wrapping its slender fingers round my throat and squeezing with all the might and strength of hell. But I don't fear the hell. I welcome it, my hands putting themselves over the alien monster's and helping it to strangle me. In spite of my incredulity at my own actions, I grin.
Then, as quickly as I found myself there, the misty plains are no more. The sun claws its way into my narrowed eyes. Was that all a dream? It must have been, for here I am, lying on the ground, feeling exhausted.
No, it wasn't. Memories pour slowly, like oil, back into my head.
"He's coming around!"
I agree. I am coming around, though this feeling is not something I've felt before. Sure, I'm fairly certain I'm covered in wounds, which is not anything new, but this horrible void in my head . . .
I had been dying. The poison from that low-life youkai was filling me up like an empty bucket, and I was fading fast. I was furious when I couldn't even move. Me, helpless! I half-thought the frustration would make my blood boil enough to eradicate the venom. I had been hoping that I would get out of this . . . to stop that damn youkai from killing the people . . . to see Kagome again . . . just to live . . .
Then it seemed like I fell asleep, and here I am. I make an attempt to sit up, which is assisted by Kagome.
"Inuyasha!" She smiles, her eyes full of unshed tears. Dumb girl, always crying; doesn't she know that nothing ever happens to me?
But if nothing happened, why am I so weak? And these wounds all over the place. There's blood, too: blood splattered on the dusty ground and on my clothes.
There is blood on my hands as well, buried deep underneath my claws.
"Ugh!" I lean forward suddenly, and Kagome places her hands on my chest as if to catch me. The whole place reeks of human blood, and before I even look up, I know what is here all around us. Miroku grabs hold of my arm and hauls me to my feet. I try to shrug him off and get out a 'keh,' but the horrible scent floating on the air keeps me from resisting his aid. A very fearful voice inside my head wonders what has happened, even though I think I know the answer. We both hope that I am terribly, terribly wrong.
Chills and shudders are concealed in my clothes as they run up and down, up and down until I feel as if I am drowning in icy water. The shadows and ghosts of men lie strewn across the ground like so many shed autumn leaves in unnatural sleep. Their eyes stare unblinkingly into me and through me, to their own blood on my murderous hands.
The fearful voice is thrown into horror, and shame as well. I killed them.
I have hated my brother for the slaughter of humans for as long as I can remember, yet I am like him. Suddenly my hair is long and silky, my eyes cold with a dreadful sangfroid, and my smile is something that all creatures on the earth have come to fear. I have taken what I hate and made it a part of me.
I cannot help to cast a glance at my companions. I am a monster now, like all the other youkai. Perhaps they will not slay me today, but the doubt has appeared in their minds about my restraint. I can see the foundations of fear in Shippou's eyes, and that is just as painful as death.
When it is for protection, I could very well go mad with the power rushing through me, as I have today. Then, when all the enemies are gone, where will I turn for blood?
Not facing them, I ask uncharacteristically quietly, "Did I do this?"
But I know, as they all do, that it is human blood that is on my clothes, and their blood that hides under my nails like a cunning parasite that I will never be able to separate from myself.