Disclaimer
Me: Soon, soon...Inuyasha shalt be mine! MOOHAHAHAHA
Righteous Young Fan: Thou liest, thou shag-eared villain!
Me: What, you egg! (Stabs him) Young fry of treachery!
Righteous Young Fan: (Looks at my finger poking into his side) ...Thou mayst shut up now. (Runs off)
Me: (sputtering) YOu-you little...
(Parts of this script come from the fun tragedy Macbeth by Mr. William Shakespeare ;)
Review Responses
ThebigW: I'm glad to write stuff you like :) Your reviews keep me coming back to the word processor to continue the ficks I've started ;3 Lol...you give such generous reviews, I hope I can keep up with your praise..."turns into TomatoHead"
AN: Errm, I apologize for any uncharacteristic actions of the original cast and etc.
Chapter One
Yoake
Night.
Its lovely presence surrounds, embraces, soothes.
Peace in the dark...no glaring light to expose all that one would not want to be exposed. Here, there are no scrutinizing eyes, no curled lips, no disdained sniffing, no indifferent backs. Here, one need not freeze their heart in anticipation of passing comments, of snide remarks, of all the insinuations of the words spoken to them. Not here, because in this piece of time, when the world simmers down to cool itself off from a hard day of work, the voices of humans no longer pierce the air. All that matters is the sound of birds singing preludes to pleasant dreams, frogs wishing each other goodnight and crickets trilling the hour of rest.
It's so comfortable here, I thought. I hope it lasts for awhile.
I let out a breath and prepared to sink into the cozy blankness of -
"I TOLD you that that wasn't for you!"
A blaringly loud voice cut into the fog of sleep surrounding my head, shaking me out of the blissful haze and into a world where my body had stubbornly decided that it should not move, indignant about the restful state denied it. Even my eyelids would not grant me permission to look for the source of that awful racket. In fact, at the moment, I doubted that I would ever be able to move again without some appendage falling clean off, I felt so brittle.
"NO! Shippou has already had his share of the fish, why should I give him mine as well!"
"Keep on shouting and wake up the dead, why don't you!"
"Whaaa - !"
I heard an exasperated sigh, then, "I told you not to raise your voice. Sleep is really important in the healing process." I felt an urge to remind the first speaker,
who sounded feminine, that her male friend was not the only one who could wake the dead with the volume of her voice; however, my own voice seemed somewhat incapable of producing any intelligible noise at the moment, so I resigned myself to listening to the rather intriguing dialogue being spouted above me, if my ears were to be trusted, despite the ominous signs of a headache sprouting within my head.
"Keh! We've been here for almost five days, just exactly how long does it take to patch up some cuts!"
"Like I've said before, it's not only a matter of healing the physical wounds. If a body is unable to take care of itself, no matter how healthy it may be, it'll eventually die."
"Yes, yes, I know that, but - !"
"You feel nervous about the lack of action in the past few days, right?" A pause, then, "So do I. It's not like Naraku to leave things be for so long. He's definitely gathering shards at an even faster rate now, without us to interfere." The woman let out a long breath. To me, it seemed as if this conflict between this Naraku and her company had been a long and hard one. Although she sounded like she was younger than twenty, the youthful vigor seemed to have leaked out of her voice over the course of the campaign, making her sound more mature, but older as well. "Even if we did anything, we were never able to completely stop him. Whenever it seemed as if we'd managed to foil his scheme, it always felt like he meant to let us do so in order to further his own plans." She stopped speaking for a moment, as if allowing the words to sink in, and when she started again, her tone had changed to that of a healer, professional and efficient. "Could you pass me that towel beside you?"
No reply from her friend, but soon I heard the sound of a cloth being dipped into water and squeezed dry. I was startled when I felt the towel mop my forehead and face, but made no move to indicate that I was awake. I was interested in their conversation, and I had a feeling that they would stop if they knew I was listening, so I lay still and silently urged them to continue.
The two of them stayed quiet for a few minutes as the woman wiped me down, the silence remaining unbroken until she had finished. This time, it was her friend who spoke solemnly. In his voice, I was not surprised to hear that same weariness, as if the fate of the world was on his shoulders, because I suspected that they were companions as well as comrades in their mission, both committed to defeating this formidable Naraku; however, there was also another quality to his voice, a quiet but firm gentleness that spoke of great courage and loyalty, but most of all, devotion. It was this tone, when he spoke, that seemed to lift the spirits of the woman as she listened, allowing her to believe the words he spoke.
"It is not the end yet." He paused, as if trying to think of the right words to use. "We've seen how dangerous, how ruthless and cruel he can be. We've seen how he has affected us," here there was an almost audible shudder, as if he were recalling memories he'd never wanted to experience again, "but that hasn't stopped us in the slightest. His greatest strength is the ability to make others fear him, but that is also his greatest weakness. No matter how powerful he may appear, and how impossible it may seem to combat his forces, we will find a way to make him pay for all his crimes." I heard him kneel down beside the woman. "We will, because we cannot rest until the ones he has ravaged are avenged." The sorrow in his voice was piercing, and it took effort for me to restrain my face from grimacing.
"I have always depended on you to pull me through whatever mess I'd found myself in, due to my foolishness or stupidity, or both. No matter how much I've pushed you away, you've always been there, patient and understanding, to console me when I felt like giving up. Now it's my turn to return the strength you've given me. Let me help you carry the burden of giving hope, and take away the weight of this business."
Lovely, I thought dryly, in the midst of this dialogue, almost regretting the choice to remain and listen. I had wanted to find out more about this Naraku, who and what he actually was, but I'd gotten more drama than information out of this exhange. No matter, I suppose, since it did not seem to be any sort of private topic, but I'd been disappointed by how little they had known about their enemy. I was wondering about how exactly they would prevail against such a seemingly resourceful opponent when I caught myself. Why would I care? I don't even know anything about these people, and here I am trying to think of some way to help them to win their war. This was exactly the type of behaviour which would land me in a life-threatening situation, I was sure of it. This obviously logical realization suddenly made the whole conversation seem outrageously funny, and I almost shook from the effort to keep myself from bursting into a fit of laughter. Profusely, I prayed that my struggle would not be visible on my face, which was already aching from the strain.
After the worst of the would-be chuckles had passed, I noticed for the first time since I'd awoken that there was sunlight on my face. From the intensity of it, I guessed that it would be around noon. By this time, my two fellow occupants had already left, allowing me to vent the building tension in my chest. Thankfully, they had exited not long after their conversation, for if they had stayed a moment longer they would have seen a sleeping person suddenly start whooping with laughter, and unfortunately, at their expense as well. I suppose I did feel a little ashamed about reacting so ridiculously to such an important moment of trust and friendship, but that soon became wallowed up in the cheer expressing itself in my smile. I stayed that way for a bit, enjoying the warm sunshine on my face and the quiet chitter of birds in the distance. A faint breeze whistled just out the door, followed by the murmur of voices, general chatter amongst the villagers. It was so peaceful an afternoon that I would have been glad to laze around on the bed for the rest of the day, if it weren't for a thought that came up suddenly in my mind, unbidden but inevitable.
Sometime in the midst of the conversation between my two guests - strangely, that was how I thought of them, although I was not even sure about whether I knew where I was, or if I actually belonged here at all - it had occurred to me that not only did I not know who they were, I did not even know who I was. Perhaps not recognizing the physician was not so strange a notion, but certainly the thought of not being able to remember one's own identity would be disturbing, and while concentrating on their conversation, I had tucked away that thought for further analysis, hoping by then I would either come to a reasonable conclusion about my amnesia, or solve the problem by remembering who I was. During the exchange I had put the matter off by thinking that I was half-asleep, therefore allowing myself to forget about it while I focussed on what they were talking about; however, now that there was nothing else to distract me, I lay there, wracking my brain until I managed to increase my headache by at least a dozen times the intensity, yet still unable to come up with anything to explain why there was a void in my memory bank where my personal details should be kept.
Puzzling over my amnesia, I almost didn't notice the swoosh of the doormat being pushed aside. Before I could react, a young woman stepped into the room. She stopped abruptly when she saw me awake, but overcame her startlement quickly and hurried to the bedside.
"Hello," she greeted me pleasantly, smiling a bit. "I'm glad to see you're awake, but try not to move too much yet. Your injuries still haven't closed securely enough to allow much manoevering ability." As she was talking, I noticed that she kept staring at some space over my head, as if I had some horns or other strange object sticking out. Her hands were kept busy with helping me up, because I had suddenly realized that I desparately needed to go to the toilet. She offered to assist me but I refused as politely as I could, being unable to think of much else besides wanting to relieve myself. I had to admit, once I was actually doing the business, that I might've been a little too hasty in turning down her offer. My muscles felt like they would snap any second, no matter how gingerly I moved, and every step was painful. I was enormously relieved when I finally finished, and gladly accepted her arm in helping me get back to the bed. Staring blearily at the ceiling, I wondered why I felt so exhausted all of a sudden.
I was left alone for the rest of the afternoon. Occasionally I would hear a murmur of a voice just outside the door, a whisper of a word, but nothing concrete enough to hold my attention for long. To be honest, I rather enjoyed the solitude, for it gave me the time I needed to pull myself together and place some semblance of order around the worried questions flying around within my head. It had happened after my bathroom break. I had dozed off soon after the young woman had left, having been unable to keep my eyes open for longer than a few minutes at best, just long enough to thank her for her help. She had given me a sad smile in return that had only served to confuse me more, but being as sleepy as a I had been, I had not given it much thought. Not that there had been much choice in the matter, as the dream that followed had been more than sufficient to drive me almost mad with bafflement. My thoughts drifted back to the sequence of events presented in the dream, wondering about their source...
A soft breeze caressed my back as I waited beneath the second tree behind the main gate, searching the surroundings for a sign. A moment later, as if on cue, a quiet, nonchalant whistle trilled its way out from the forest to my right. Startled at the sound, I scowled and turned around in time to see a pale-haired boy in a red kimono tiptoe silently out of the shadows, a smug grin on his face. Once again, I had misjudged the direction of his approach.
"Heheh, I win again," he gloated gleefully.
"Piff," I grumbled. "Look at you, you're turning pink from the pleasure of being able to sneak up on a lowly servant."
"Don't say that," he replied, his voice suddenly sharp. I had to make an effort not to instinctively look at him. He had the kind of voice that drew others' attention and held it, a leader's voice. "Class has nothing to do with skill. Don't try to hide behind that excuse."
"Yes, you've said that many times, but you can't deny that you've much more talent in the art of sneaking," I answered, still keeping my eyes on the sunset glowing beyond the hills. The sight was so beautiful, I could almost lose myself in that splendor and forget about everything.
"That's not what I'm saying. You never try to the best of your abilities when you're around me," he said, his voice taking on a note of sadness. I turned towards him, puzzled, and met his golden eyes. There was a hurt look there, as well as frustration and disappointment. I swallowed hard.
"Don't be silly. I always do the best I can when..." I started to retort but he cut me off.
"You never try to the best of your abilities. You are capable of more. I know that, without a doubt. Yet you always lower yourself when facing the 'nobles', never doing anymore than enough to make them feel like they're so much better than you. Whenever they insult you like that...how come you never show them what it is truly like toface a worthy opponent?" His voice had taken on a tone of anger, but more than that, underneath the fire, raged a fierce spirit that was more noble and kind than was good for him, an instinct to protect all those he loved.
I jerked out of my reverie, realizing at the same moment, to my dismay, that my mouth was hanging open , making me look like some gawking idiot. I snapped my jaw shut, ignoring the clack of teeth colliding, and looked at the ground, my feet, the trees, anywhere but him. With face burning with embarrassment, I cleared my throat, hoping something brilliant would come out to change the subject.
Turned out thatI didn't need to. Before I could say anything, he dropped his gaze from my face and looked towards the fading sun, the red glow of the disappearing orb illuminating him in light as vibrant as his clothes. Taking a deep breath, he released it slowly, never taking his eyes off the sunset until the sky had become lavender. When the breeze changed into a slightly cooler wind that signalled the time to head back inside, I lifted myself to my feet. As I turned to leave, his hand reached out and gently poked my arm.
"Hey, umm, about that outburst, I..." he cleared his throat, as if unsure of what to say. This time, I was the one tointerrupt.
"What outburst?" I smirked at him, trying not to laugh at his embarrassment. His face brightened, and he answered back with a grin of his own.
Together, we employed our elite sneaking skills to get back to the house undetected...
:o
The dream faded away to be replaced by another, this one set by a quietly flowing river.
The ground was covered by grass, but that in turn had been covered by another substance. It was dark, and slick to the touch. It took the mind a few moments to register what exactly the liquid was, and another before the shock was overcome and the body reacted.
A few feet away, several dark shapes could be seenon the ground. A closer look confirmed what had been suspected initially; the bodies were incomplete.
From the trees, a noise as a bush was pushed aside. Following the shapes that slinked outward, spreading out into an ever-widening circle to surround the prey, a pair of golden eyes glowed in their wake, a gaze that was enough to make an experienced warrior lose control of his bladder, it was so frighteningly cold.
As the creatures began their casual, encompassing advance, the figure in the trees moved forward enough to reveal a beautiful face, beset by haunted eyes that spoke of sacrifices that had taken a tremendous toll on the spirit.
A scream split the air, fueled by rage and choked by disbelief, with hatred binding the two together: "KIIRO!"
I woke up covered in sweat, trying desparately to think of another image, anything that would block the sight of those eyes. My hands flew up to my ears to stifle the sound of that scream, but when I patted the sides of my head, I found nothing.
It took all my effort not to scream myself silly.
When I had calmed down, I carefully raised my hands to my head again, and searched around tentatively for my ears. Obviously I had them, since I had auditory capabilities, but as to where exactly they were located, if they were even on my head at all...
My hands froze when the fingers stumbled upon two furry objects situated on the upper halves of either side of my skull. Slowly, I lowered my trembling hands and wondered if whatever event had landed me here in the first place had knocked me on the head hard enough to cause some loss in sanity or perceptions, because if I were to believe my tactile senses, then I had, instead of nice, normal, rounded lobes and funnels leading into the side of my head, two twitchy, pointy and most definitely hairy horn-like ears sprouting from the top of my head.
For awhile after this little revelation, I debated with myself about whether or not I was sane. Of course, there could be no sensible solution to such a discussion, but it gave me a rather pleasant alternative to drowning in shock.
More than a few times in the following two days, I had to restrain myself from hopping out of bed to look for someone, anyone, to answer my queries about my present predicament. It was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the panic I felt at being unable recognize anything at all; not my surroundings, not the few people who came in to take care of my daily needs - after thinking about it, I realized that the terse comments I sometimes received from them conveyed the message that I was probably easier to take care of as an unconscious sack who didn't squirm everytime it was time for a bath - nothing triggered even the slightest memory or sign that I belonged here. At first, I couldn't understand the uneasiness. After all, I'd been treated well and cared for, and my caretakers always fussed over me in every little way, as if I couldn't do anything by myself without falling apart. Or maybe that was why I felt so wary. Perhaps they were being a little too solicitous? Certainly I was not of such importance as to demand their full attention. Yet they kept on checking on me every hour, it seemed, as if more than monitoring my condition, they were making sure that I was still there. My persistent, although probably foundationless, suspicions grew until I lost my patience one day and resolved to find out exactly what the situation was. Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I winced slightly at the stiffness in my limbs, but stubbornly made my way to the door. Peeking out from behind the flap, I decided that it was safe to go out for a little walk.
Turned out that I was wrong.
I had not taken more than three steps from the doorway before a soft thump sounded on the roof of the hut. A rather irritated voice spoke up from behind me.
"OI."
I froze.
"What are you doing out of bed?" He sounded annoyed as well. Well, this couldn't be good, I thought dryly, all the while berating myself for my stupidity.
"Err..." I pivoted around to look at the guy. When I had finished the turn...this time, it was my brain that froze.
Sitting on his haunches, above the doorway of the hut, was the man in the dream. The commander of the hunting beasts.
Kiiro.
