CHAPTER THREE
*
It was time.
A faint shimmer ran over Naraku's borrowed form as he felt the process complete itself. Quietly he rose from his position near the window, staring out at the barrier he had erected to keep out Inuyasha and his cohorts. The purple energy swirled and fell with the winds, like mist. From a distance, that was all it would look like.
He walked slowly over to a thin screen. "Mihaka," he said in a low voice.
A red glow rose up behind the screen, illuminating the form of a girl kneeling behind it. "Yes, master?" she replied.
"Come with me. I want you to meet someone."
Mihaka pushed the screen out of the way. Naraku allowed himself a moment of pride over her. He glanced over her critically, at her long coltish legs and rumpled black hair, her pretty face and thin body. He had spent long hours studying the girl in Kanna's mirror, before sculpting his own separated flesh into the very image. Mihaka.
A minor demon had crept into Inuyasha's camp, and stolen one of the robes that young girl wore, a short scrap of green and white. If they even noticed the absence of the robe, it would be quickly forgotten. It suited Mihaka well, he noted. Now all she needed was her brother at her side.
"Pick that up, and follow me," Naraku ordered.
Mihaka glanced over at the bundle of cloth on the floor. Obediently she tucked it in her arms and followed Naraku through the darkened corridors, to the windowless room where she had first broken out of the vat. Her wide eyes took in the sight of the vat with the pale-haired boy in it, the one she had seen before. It was bubbling wildly, with steam rising from the edges.
Naraku took the clothes from her hand. "Watch, Mihaka," he ordered.
The minutes passed, as the bubbling of the dark liquid grew more frenzied. Suddenly a hand crept onto the rim of the vat, as if the creature inside was trying to pull itself out. With a grinding noise, the vat tipped over. The dark fluid poured onto the floor, pooling under the new offspring that crouched there.
Mihaka moved closer, studying the newborn demon. It was a boy. Naked and soaked, coughing as he took his first breaths. Long, pale silver hair was plastered to his back and neck, and hanging over his face. His fingers ended in sharp, nail-like claws. And pointed dog ears rose from the top of his head. Curiously, she started to touch one.
"Marako," Naraku said softly.
As if he already knew his name, the boy looked up at Naraku with half-open golden eyes.
"Mihaka," Naraku ordered, "dress Marako. Then bring him to me." He turned and drifted out.
Marako tensed as the girl gripped his chest and back, and pushed him onto his knees. With the businesslike attitude of a nurse, she unfolded the bundle she had brought. Red, baggy fire-rat clothing fell from her hands, much to the newborn demon's curiosity. "I can do it... myself," he said hoarsely, holding out a clawed hand.
Mihaka frowned, as if she doubted his abilities. But then she wadded up the red clothes and handed them to him. She watched without embarrassment as her brother painstakingly wrapped his wet body in the armor-like robes. His long silver hair had begun to dry, and his movements no longer had the clumsiness of a newborn.
Once he had belted his clothing in place, Marako glanced down at the low shoes and baggy socks on Mihaka's feet, then at his own bare ones.
"He didn't give me any for you," Mihaka said, shrugging. Marako considered this for a moment, then echoed her shrug.
Without another word, the newborn followed his sister through the dark passages. He glanced from side to side, curious about this place that he seemed to half-know, as if he had dreamed about it in his vat. He glanced down at his fingers, at the sharp claws on them, and wondered why Mihaka had none. Different ears, too. Much fewer clothes.
Mihaka turned a corner, and Marako followed her. In the room was Naraku, staring out the window once more.
"Dressed? Ah, good," Naraku murmured, smiling slightly. Again he found himself admiring the flawless quality of his youngest offspring. Every detail was perfect -- even the way Marako stood, insolent and forward, or the odd way Mihaka clasped her hands.
He rose and watched the two young demons follow him with their eyes. "I am about to tell you about the two you are going to kill," Naraku said. "Their names are Inuyasha and Kagome..."
TO BE CONTINUED
*
It was time.
A faint shimmer ran over Naraku's borrowed form as he felt the process complete itself. Quietly he rose from his position near the window, staring out at the barrier he had erected to keep out Inuyasha and his cohorts. The purple energy swirled and fell with the winds, like mist. From a distance, that was all it would look like.
He walked slowly over to a thin screen. "Mihaka," he said in a low voice.
A red glow rose up behind the screen, illuminating the form of a girl kneeling behind it. "Yes, master?" she replied.
"Come with me. I want you to meet someone."
Mihaka pushed the screen out of the way. Naraku allowed himself a moment of pride over her. He glanced over her critically, at her long coltish legs and rumpled black hair, her pretty face and thin body. He had spent long hours studying the girl in Kanna's mirror, before sculpting his own separated flesh into the very image. Mihaka.
A minor demon had crept into Inuyasha's camp, and stolen one of the robes that young girl wore, a short scrap of green and white. If they even noticed the absence of the robe, it would be quickly forgotten. It suited Mihaka well, he noted. Now all she needed was her brother at her side.
"Pick that up, and follow me," Naraku ordered.
Mihaka glanced over at the bundle of cloth on the floor. Obediently she tucked it in her arms and followed Naraku through the darkened corridors, to the windowless room where she had first broken out of the vat. Her wide eyes took in the sight of the vat with the pale-haired boy in it, the one she had seen before. It was bubbling wildly, with steam rising from the edges.
Naraku took the clothes from her hand. "Watch, Mihaka," he ordered.
The minutes passed, as the bubbling of the dark liquid grew more frenzied. Suddenly a hand crept onto the rim of the vat, as if the creature inside was trying to pull itself out. With a grinding noise, the vat tipped over. The dark fluid poured onto the floor, pooling under the new offspring that crouched there.
Mihaka moved closer, studying the newborn demon. It was a boy. Naked and soaked, coughing as he took his first breaths. Long, pale silver hair was plastered to his back and neck, and hanging over his face. His fingers ended in sharp, nail-like claws. And pointed dog ears rose from the top of his head. Curiously, she started to touch one.
"Marako," Naraku said softly.
As if he already knew his name, the boy looked up at Naraku with half-open golden eyes.
"Mihaka," Naraku ordered, "dress Marako. Then bring him to me." He turned and drifted out.
Marako tensed as the girl gripped his chest and back, and pushed him onto his knees. With the businesslike attitude of a nurse, she unfolded the bundle she had brought. Red, baggy fire-rat clothing fell from her hands, much to the newborn demon's curiosity. "I can do it... myself," he said hoarsely, holding out a clawed hand.
Mihaka frowned, as if she doubted his abilities. But then she wadded up the red clothes and handed them to him. She watched without embarrassment as her brother painstakingly wrapped his wet body in the armor-like robes. His long silver hair had begun to dry, and his movements no longer had the clumsiness of a newborn.
Once he had belted his clothing in place, Marako glanced down at the low shoes and baggy socks on Mihaka's feet, then at his own bare ones.
"He didn't give me any for you," Mihaka said, shrugging. Marako considered this for a moment, then echoed her shrug.
Without another word, the newborn followed his sister through the dark passages. He glanced from side to side, curious about this place that he seemed to half-know, as if he had dreamed about it in his vat. He glanced down at his fingers, at the sharp claws on them, and wondered why Mihaka had none. Different ears, too. Much fewer clothes.
Mihaka turned a corner, and Marako followed her. In the room was Naraku, staring out the window once more.
"Dressed? Ah, good," Naraku murmured, smiling slightly. Again he found himself admiring the flawless quality of his youngest offspring. Every detail was perfect -- even the way Marako stood, insolent and forward, or the odd way Mihaka clasped her hands.
He rose and watched the two young demons follow him with their eyes. "I am about to tell you about the two you are going to kill," Naraku said. "Their names are Inuyasha and Kagome..."
TO BE CONTINUED