Fiery Eyes
Dear Naraku,
I do not own you. After this little escapade, I do not -want- to own you. I don't care that you have the coolest hair since Kurama. And the coolest scar since Kenshin. And...
Okay, fine. I think you're very cool, but I like Kikyo and Sango better and would appreciate it greatly if you never inspired me again. Especially not involving them.
Go bother Rumiko Takahashi, your CREATOR.
Thank you very much,
Kuwa-chan
To: Sammy, for reading anything I can be bothered to actually write down. Even if it is strange like this...
---
Fiery Eyes
---
Such fire.
Such vivid fire and hate burns in her eyes. For no reason, suddenly, a sick hate will rupture in her darkening little heart. A delicious rage, directed at me, will fill her lovely eyes, warring with her tears for room.
I love it.
I love inspiring such feelings in that remarkable girl. A girl who can kill demons without batting her hateful, fiery eyes. She is a prodigy, killing a young wolf demon with a rock and a tree stump at the tender age of eight. That was when her father decided it would such a waste to let his eldest child go quietly, taking her dowry to a strong warrior in the village. It was possible she would bear a few good sons, but it was still too much of a gamble to hope they would have her gifts.
He trained her as a demon slayer.
And I watched.
I almost love her. I almost long for her, the intensity almost matching Onigumo's longing for Kikyo. I want to see her tears coat her cheeks, sparkling in the moonlight. A satisfaction Kikyo can never give me.
Crying requires a heart.
Kikyo's heart has long-since passed on to the girl Kagome.
But this one... Her heart is intact. Somehow. It was preserved, as she learned to kill. Somehow, she managed to keep that dearest ability which separates the people from the monsters.
She cries.
She dreams of Kohaku's kunai in her back. Streams of her blood flows from the deep wounds, mixing their tears into the sweetest wine I could imagine.
No one notices.
Who would?
The girl, with her mind occupied by the halfbreed InuYasha?
InuYasha, his mind constantly dueling between Kagome and Kikyo?
The fox-child, consumed with a child's worries and fears, and an adult's fear of the inevitable?
The monk, Miroku, who feels the end inching closer with each passing day?
With such roadblocks, they can only see what is thown in their faces. When I send my servant Kohaku to break her further, crumble what sanity and security she has regained, they notice. When she chooses her blood over these strangers she barely knows, they see.
But when she dams her tears, damns her tormentor and turns around, they wrap themselves conviently in their own problems. When the ghost fades back into obscurity, and another jewel shard is sensed, it is like nothing ever happened. They are blind to everyone but themselves.
I see you.
I see you, beautiful Sango. My angel of darkness. When I close my eyes, there you are, filling my mind in a way Kikyo cannot.
And I know I'm on your mind.
Your entire being revolves around around hating me. It must. What else is there? InuYasha? Miroku?
You are alive.
Your heart beats.
Unlike Kikyo's.
Unlike Kikyo, dead Kikyo. Kikyo, who was never meant to die. Kikyo, who should have killed her beloved InuYasha, and spent her life hating me, hating Onigumo, consumed by thoughts of me. Kikyo, loved by Onigumo even now, has been taken from me. Her thoughts to do not revolve around hating me, but hating that worthless halfbreed.
But you...
Even with Onigumo's foolish heart driving me to break what is left of Kikyo, I will focus my attention on you. I will court you into my shadow dance. I will lead you like a mouse, with your brother as the cheese.
And when I have you in my grasp, I will push you past the point of no return. Everything you hate -- darkness, demons, me -- will become you.
I will break you.
I will laugh as those ignorant shard-hunters try to coax you back. By the time they realize what is happening, it will be too late.
My Sango.
My beautiful, fiery, as good as dead Sango.
I will cast Kikyo aside, Onigumo.
And I will dominate my Sango.
Dear Naraku,
I do not own you. After this little escapade, I do not -want- to own you. I don't care that you have the coolest hair since Kurama. And the coolest scar since Kenshin. And...
Okay, fine. I think you're very cool, but I like Kikyo and Sango better and would appreciate it greatly if you never inspired me again. Especially not involving them.
Go bother Rumiko Takahashi, your CREATOR.
Thank you very much,
Kuwa-chan
To: Sammy, for reading anything I can be bothered to actually write down. Even if it is strange like this...
---
Fiery Eyes
---
Such fire.
Such vivid fire and hate burns in her eyes. For no reason, suddenly, a sick hate will rupture in her darkening little heart. A delicious rage, directed at me, will fill her lovely eyes, warring with her tears for room.
I love it.
I love inspiring such feelings in that remarkable girl. A girl who can kill demons without batting her hateful, fiery eyes. She is a prodigy, killing a young wolf demon with a rock and a tree stump at the tender age of eight. That was when her father decided it would such a waste to let his eldest child go quietly, taking her dowry to a strong warrior in the village. It was possible she would bear a few good sons, but it was still too much of a gamble to hope they would have her gifts.
He trained her as a demon slayer.
And I watched.
I almost love her. I almost long for her, the intensity almost matching Onigumo's longing for Kikyo. I want to see her tears coat her cheeks, sparkling in the moonlight. A satisfaction Kikyo can never give me.
Crying requires a heart.
Kikyo's heart has long-since passed on to the girl Kagome.
But this one... Her heart is intact. Somehow. It was preserved, as she learned to kill. Somehow, she managed to keep that dearest ability which separates the people from the monsters.
She cries.
She dreams of Kohaku's kunai in her back. Streams of her blood flows from the deep wounds, mixing their tears into the sweetest wine I could imagine.
No one notices.
Who would?
The girl, with her mind occupied by the halfbreed InuYasha?
InuYasha, his mind constantly dueling between Kagome and Kikyo?
The fox-child, consumed with a child's worries and fears, and an adult's fear of the inevitable?
The monk, Miroku, who feels the end inching closer with each passing day?
With such roadblocks, they can only see what is thown in their faces. When I send my servant Kohaku to break her further, crumble what sanity and security she has regained, they notice. When she chooses her blood over these strangers she barely knows, they see.
But when she dams her tears, damns her tormentor and turns around, they wrap themselves conviently in their own problems. When the ghost fades back into obscurity, and another jewel shard is sensed, it is like nothing ever happened. They are blind to everyone but themselves.
I see you.
I see you, beautiful Sango. My angel of darkness. When I close my eyes, there you are, filling my mind in a way Kikyo cannot.
And I know I'm on your mind.
Your entire being revolves around around hating me. It must. What else is there? InuYasha? Miroku?
You are alive.
Your heart beats.
Unlike Kikyo's.
Unlike Kikyo, dead Kikyo. Kikyo, who was never meant to die. Kikyo, who should have killed her beloved InuYasha, and spent her life hating me, hating Onigumo, consumed by thoughts of me. Kikyo, loved by Onigumo even now, has been taken from me. Her thoughts to do not revolve around hating me, but hating that worthless halfbreed.
But you...
Even with Onigumo's foolish heart driving me to break what is left of Kikyo, I will focus my attention on you. I will court you into my shadow dance. I will lead you like a mouse, with your brother as the cheese.
And when I have you in my grasp, I will push you past the point of no return. Everything you hate -- darkness, demons, me -- will become you.
I will break you.
I will laugh as those ignorant shard-hunters try to coax you back. By the time they realize what is happening, it will be too late.
My Sango.
My beautiful, fiery, as good as dead Sango.
I will cast Kikyo aside, Onigumo.
And I will dominate my Sango.
