Authors Note: I found Izumo to be a fascinating character, and his death in the anime saddned me, for I thought that they could have put more into him. However, that would have detracted from the main characters. So, this is a spin-off of what I think happens next if Izumo didn't die.
Hopefully; Enjoy.
Disclaimer: Nor Inuyasha or anything about the show is mine. Nope. Don't own a single frame. However, this story is mine. Please do not post my story without my permission.
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"Speaking"
'Thinking'
Emphasis
sound effects
{flashback}
Consciousness was a slow friend to Izumo. At first he seemed to be wading through a thick fog, not wanting to go forward but seeing no reason to turn back around. He couldn't see what was ahead, but he didn't care, at first. When the fog finally, slowly lifted, he decided that maybe going back might have been more preferable.
He ached all over, and his head seemed enshrouded in a warm haze. It was difficult to think, and although his head pounded it didn't hurt. It was more... uncomfortable.
He felt sick. His stomach twisted and gurgled and he could just barely keep himself from vomiting.
Cringing from the queasyness and pain, Izumo slowly opened his eyes and saw... an ordinary thatch roof. Like something one would find in the homes of a farmer or other low-class human.
'Where am I?' he thought through thoughts muzzy with that glorious combination of pain, sickness, and sleep.
Suddenly, the events before unconsciousness caught up to him.
His body gave a convuslive jerk and he turned, managing to vomit over the side of the futon he was laying on before he got it on himself. Only when he was finished and the dry heaves had stopped did he notice the bowl set there for just that reason. Feeling disgusted with himself and slightly embarrassed, he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth to remove the flecks of vomit and spit there. He paused when he caught sight of his hand.
Slowly he examined his slightly-shaking hand. His hand looked normal, for the most part. But his nails... they were long and came to dangerous-looking points. His eyes were wide with horror, and he sent a frightened glance toward the window (seeing, meanwhile, that he was alone in a hut that contained very little other than his futon and a fire pit), but the sun was streaming through, with no indication of night coming any time soon. But his hands...
Only then did he realize that he could feel something twitch behind him.
His head whiped to the side, and over his shoulder he could see a length of black with a tufted end. A long, cowlike tail sheathed in black fur and attached to his lower back. His gaze continued to his waist and legs, also covered in the thick black fur down legs that ended in cloven hooves. He brought his shaking hands down to his legs and felt the coarse hair, no... fur... that covered his lower half. Fur like Gyuoh's.
Even with a clouded mind, Izumo's thoughts whirled. Could this monstrous form be the result of his swallowing all those false Shikon no Tamas? As if in a reminder of the act that almost killed him, Izumo's stomach lurched and he almost vomited again. Instead, he lay back down completly on the futon, drawing the blanket once more over him and curling up like a child and ignoring how the scent of his vomit was stronger now that he was laying right next to it. He ignored the smell. His elbows, however, brushed against the hated fur on his knees and he immediately straightened out just enough so that he wouldn't touch his legs.
Monstrous. He was neither Izumo nor Gyuoh, but a vile cross between the two. He created the false Shikon no Tamas so he could get rid of Gyuoh, not make the damnedable monster a part of him permanently!
Izumo chuckled slightly. Even now he could see the irony of the situation.
There were slight steps just outside the doorway, and before Izumo (or was he Gyuoh?) could appreciate how his hearing had gotten so sharp, a young girl entered the small hut.
She caught his eye and gasped, fumbling with the bowl she was carrying and almost dropped it. Her face red, he steadied the bowl in her hands after she spilled a great dea lof water over herself and the floor and slowly, hesitantly, started walking towards him.
"You-you're awake," she stated nervously when she approached the prostrate man.
"Yes," Izumo simply said. As he spoke he noticed his teeth still had a sharp edge to them, like Gyuoh. So his lower half wasn't the only thing that changed...
Her eyes caught sight of the puddle growing on the flow, and her eyes flew wide. "Oh! Um... I'll just clean that up." With that, she set the bowl of water down well away from the vomit and raced to the other side of the room. She withdrew a towel from something out of Izumo's sight and returned with it. She knelt down on the floor and began scrubbing at the puddle, keeping her fingers out of the mess yet still cleaning it up thoroughly.
Izumo could see as she worked, however, that she was tense, and her hands were shaking. She was also careful to make sure that she was not getting to near. Every time he shifted she would flinch away very slightly.
'She's terrified of me,' Izumo thought, his eyes closing against the headache that was building up behind his eyes. 'And with good reason. Who isn't terrified of a demon, even if he is a hanyou...'
-----------------------------------------
Authors note: Somewhat short for a first chapter, but I promise that everything after this will be a great deal longer.
Hopefully; Enjoy.
Disclaimer: Nor Inuyasha or anything about the show is mine. Nope. Don't own a single frame. However, this story is mine. Please do not post my story without my permission.
------------------------------------------------------
"Speaking"
'Thinking'
Emphasis
sound effects
{flashback}
Consciousness was a slow friend to Izumo. At first he seemed to be wading through a thick fog, not wanting to go forward but seeing no reason to turn back around. He couldn't see what was ahead, but he didn't care, at first. When the fog finally, slowly lifted, he decided that maybe going back might have been more preferable.
He ached all over, and his head seemed enshrouded in a warm haze. It was difficult to think, and although his head pounded it didn't hurt. It was more... uncomfortable.
He felt sick. His stomach twisted and gurgled and he could just barely keep himself from vomiting.
Cringing from the queasyness and pain, Izumo slowly opened his eyes and saw... an ordinary thatch roof. Like something one would find in the homes of a farmer or other low-class human.
'Where am I?' he thought through thoughts muzzy with that glorious combination of pain, sickness, and sleep.
Suddenly, the events before unconsciousness caught up to him.
His body gave a convuslive jerk and he turned, managing to vomit over the side of the futon he was laying on before he got it on himself. Only when he was finished and the dry heaves had stopped did he notice the bowl set there for just that reason. Feeling disgusted with himself and slightly embarrassed, he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth to remove the flecks of vomit and spit there. He paused when he caught sight of his hand.
Slowly he examined his slightly-shaking hand. His hand looked normal, for the most part. But his nails... they were long and came to dangerous-looking points. His eyes were wide with horror, and he sent a frightened glance toward the window (seeing, meanwhile, that he was alone in a hut that contained very little other than his futon and a fire pit), but the sun was streaming through, with no indication of night coming any time soon. But his hands...
Only then did he realize that he could feel something twitch behind him.
His head whiped to the side, and over his shoulder he could see a length of black with a tufted end. A long, cowlike tail sheathed in black fur and attached to his lower back. His gaze continued to his waist and legs, also covered in the thick black fur down legs that ended in cloven hooves. He brought his shaking hands down to his legs and felt the coarse hair, no... fur... that covered his lower half. Fur like Gyuoh's.
Even with a clouded mind, Izumo's thoughts whirled. Could this monstrous form be the result of his swallowing all those false Shikon no Tamas? As if in a reminder of the act that almost killed him, Izumo's stomach lurched and he almost vomited again. Instead, he lay back down completly on the futon, drawing the blanket once more over him and curling up like a child and ignoring how the scent of his vomit was stronger now that he was laying right next to it. He ignored the smell. His elbows, however, brushed against the hated fur on his knees and he immediately straightened out just enough so that he wouldn't touch his legs.
Monstrous. He was neither Izumo nor Gyuoh, but a vile cross between the two. He created the false Shikon no Tamas so he could get rid of Gyuoh, not make the damnedable monster a part of him permanently!
Izumo chuckled slightly. Even now he could see the irony of the situation.
There were slight steps just outside the doorway, and before Izumo (or was he Gyuoh?) could appreciate how his hearing had gotten so sharp, a young girl entered the small hut.
She caught his eye and gasped, fumbling with the bowl she was carrying and almost dropped it. Her face red, he steadied the bowl in her hands after she spilled a great dea lof water over herself and the floor and slowly, hesitantly, started walking towards him.
"You-you're awake," she stated nervously when she approached the prostrate man.
"Yes," Izumo simply said. As he spoke he noticed his teeth still had a sharp edge to them, like Gyuoh. So his lower half wasn't the only thing that changed...
Her eyes caught sight of the puddle growing on the flow, and her eyes flew wide. "Oh! Um... I'll just clean that up." With that, she set the bowl of water down well away from the vomit and raced to the other side of the room. She withdrew a towel from something out of Izumo's sight and returned with it. She knelt down on the floor and began scrubbing at the puddle, keeping her fingers out of the mess yet still cleaning it up thoroughly.
Izumo could see as she worked, however, that she was tense, and her hands were shaking. She was also careful to make sure that she was not getting to near. Every time he shifted she would flinch away very slightly.
'She's terrified of me,' Izumo thought, his eyes closing against the headache that was building up behind his eyes. 'And with good reason. Who isn't terrified of a demon, even if he is a hanyou...'
-----------------------------------------
Authors note: Somewhat short for a first chapter, but I promise that everything after this will be a great deal longer.