WHEN DARKNESS COMES
Every person has a reason behind their fears. Some are just more serious than others, which is what the Inu gang is about to find out as their adventures take them into the Eastern Lands and into the deepest, darkest secrets of Sango's life...
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Inuyasha.
PROLOGUE
"We warned you not to go out," the young miko said gently as she sat before soaked, shivering, injured and frightened girl: the daughter of the village head, fiancée of one of the village's best demon-slayers, and the closest to a friend that 18-year-old Jaia would find in this strange little village so far from her homeland. "Why didn't you listen?"
The 15-year-old girl looked up, a shuttered and suspicious look in her eyes as she refused to answer. Sighing, Jaia continued to clean up the girl and talked steadily to keep the silence of knowing what would happen at bay. "Knowing you, you probably decided to go out one last time before paezin katarzana started, right?"
"Well, there isn't going to be any of that now," the village head said shortly from outside the curtained-off area. "You can stop cleaning the wounds, Jaia. There's no point in using medicines on those who will soon be killed any way. Within the hour, the dishonour she has brought upon this family will be extinguished. The dazjia will be performed immediately."
The eyes of the disgraced girl widened, and in the briefest moment of abandoning all her usual calm, begged, "No, Father! Please, Father! No!"
Her father didn't answer, but only unsheathed the katana at his waist. "You know this must be done, foreigner," he said speaking more to the distraught girl than to Jaia, but being forbidden to speak to his daughter by the customs of his people.
"Yes, sir." Jaia said softly, leaving the building as the head, breaking the rules this once, said,
"Don't make this any harder than it already is. Die with dignity, Sango."
Then there came the swish of the katana and the scream of Sango, which echoed through the village, brought 10-year-old Kohaku running out into the rain, only to be stopped by Jaia, with tears in her eyes.
She struggled to keep a hold of the traumatized boy, who was kicking, fighting, screaming, begging, crying, trying anything that could get him free and to his sister.
His father came walking out of the house calmly, wiping the blade on a piece of cloth that had been torn from the tattered remains of the obi of Sango's kimono. The cloth, which had once been white, signifying her participation in the paezin katarzana tomorrow; was now crimson, slowly dripping red trails of blood upon the ground. He sheathed the katana once more and took Kohaku by the wrist to bring him home.
Jaia watched them enter their own manor and, lifting her head skyward, cried out in anguish, "I want to go home!"
But she knew that that was no longer an option.
Every person has a reason behind their fears. Some are just more serious than others, which is what the Inu gang is about to find out as their adventures take them into the Eastern Lands and into the deepest, darkest secrets of Sango's life...
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Inuyasha.
PROLOGUE
"We warned you not to go out," the young miko said gently as she sat before soaked, shivering, injured and frightened girl: the daughter of the village head, fiancée of one of the village's best demon-slayers, and the closest to a friend that 18-year-old Jaia would find in this strange little village so far from her homeland. "Why didn't you listen?"
The 15-year-old girl looked up, a shuttered and suspicious look in her eyes as she refused to answer. Sighing, Jaia continued to clean up the girl and talked steadily to keep the silence of knowing what would happen at bay. "Knowing you, you probably decided to go out one last time before paezin katarzana started, right?"
"Well, there isn't going to be any of that now," the village head said shortly from outside the curtained-off area. "You can stop cleaning the wounds, Jaia. There's no point in using medicines on those who will soon be killed any way. Within the hour, the dishonour she has brought upon this family will be extinguished. The dazjia will be performed immediately."
The eyes of the disgraced girl widened, and in the briefest moment of abandoning all her usual calm, begged, "No, Father! Please, Father! No!"
Her father didn't answer, but only unsheathed the katana at his waist. "You know this must be done, foreigner," he said speaking more to the distraught girl than to Jaia, but being forbidden to speak to his daughter by the customs of his people.
"Yes, sir." Jaia said softly, leaving the building as the head, breaking the rules this once, said,
"Don't make this any harder than it already is. Die with dignity, Sango."
Then there came the swish of the katana and the scream of Sango, which echoed through the village, brought 10-year-old Kohaku running out into the rain, only to be stopped by Jaia, with tears in her eyes.
She struggled to keep a hold of the traumatized boy, who was kicking, fighting, screaming, begging, crying, trying anything that could get him free and to his sister.
His father came walking out of the house calmly, wiping the blade on a piece of cloth that had been torn from the tattered remains of the obi of Sango's kimono. The cloth, which had once been white, signifying her participation in the paezin katarzana tomorrow; was now crimson, slowly dripping red trails of blood upon the ground. He sheathed the katana once more and took Kohaku by the wrist to bring him home.
Jaia watched them enter their own manor and, lifting her head skyward, cried out in anguish, "I want to go home!"
But she knew that that was no longer an option.