Disclaimers: I do NOT own Inuyasha or any of its characters.
Ugh, writer's block...I can never figure out how to follow up well after a big fight...
Fred the Mutant Pickle: Yeah, I hate it when critical links in sites go down like that...frustrating... And the Five had to die sometime, I couldn't keep them forever. :P
Shakujou: Thanks!
Sesshomaru4eva203: Thanks, and don't worry, Fluffy will be here probably in my other stories (so read them!! 8-) )
BombermanFantastic: You saw that one coming? Am I getting that predictable? :( Oh well...
Perfalmarin: Heh, thanks! :D
""= Speech
''= Thoughts
##= Asterisks
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In the shadows he lay, brooding over what course of action would be best to defeat Inuyasha and his companions.
He knew that his new body was powerful enough to crush Inuyasha effortlessly... but this body, like all the other bodies he possessed, needed time to get used to.
Completely controlling a body wasn't an easy or short process: it requires much patience, power, control, and guile to break the spirits that control the body and dominate it utterly. It was very much like attempting to capture an enemy castle without damaging any of the facilities or structures, a feat that is impossible to accomplish with brute force alone.
And so Naraku would wait until the maddening cries of the souls within him would quiet down and submit to his invincible will...
His will for power: The one thing that drove him to murder innocents, toy with people's lives, and sow the seeds of hatred and destruction. The sole purpose for his living and torturing. The only reason that he even bothered to exist.
He could have willed his own destruction long ago- he could have just thought of his blackened soul being severed from his body and it would have all been over in an instant. But instead, he chose to survive and bring torment to everyone.
Sometimes he questioned himself, why did he want such power?
Here was the answer...
-Flashback to Onigumo's childhood-
The villagers screamed and ran amok like ants after their hill had been wrecked by an obnoxious child armed with boulder and magnifying glass. A few of them picked up crude weapons for defense, but were cut down like grass to a mower against the charging group of samurai.
The leader, who was on horse back, shouted "Kill every last one of them and take every scrap of food!" He paused momentarily to cut down a fleeing villager with his naginata. (#1)
He chuckled harshly: no matter what they said, slaughtering helpless villagers gave him a rush. He didn't care if he was called a bloodthirsty murderer, or a butcher: he just wanted to shed blood.
And he was thankful that, as a samurai, he could slake his thirst almost anytime. But right now, he was under orders from the daimyo to wipe out this entire village and any persons inside it, whether it be man, woman, or child.
He loved this job.
"Light cavalry! Pursue all fleeing villagers and exterminate every one of them! Attack!" The spear-wielding and bow-brandishing cavalry men urged their mounts forward, the hooves of the steeds thundering on the grass.
Somewhere in the nearby forest, a small boy and his mother crashed their way into through the underbrush, sweat streaming down their bodies. Fear etched their faces as they fled from the coming death, but try as they might, they could not outrun cavalry men even in the forest. (#2)
Suddenly, the #twang# of a bow was heard, then an arrow whistled into the mother's upper leg. She crashed into the forest floor, her backpack supplies flying out and into the grass.
"O-okaa san!" he whimpered.
The mother attempted to get up, failed, and then hissed out in pain, "Run, Taiji-chan, go on without me-"
"Iie!" he shouted. "I'm not going without you momma..." He dove into the soft comfort of his mother.
The mother held her son in her arms and stroked his head while the young boy sobbed into her chest. "Go, Taiji, live for me. You must do whatever you can to survive...just don't end up like your okaa-san." She shoved him away and urged, "Hurry!"
Taiji gathered up a few of the supplies, gulped back a sob, and looked at his mother one last time. "Goodbye, momma..." He turned and fled, his tears streaming down his face along with his sweat.
"Goodbye, son..."
Taiji tried his best to ignore the screams of his mother as she was impaled upon the cold spears of the cavalry men...
Taiji kept his promise to his mother: he became Onigumo, the feared bandit, and then later Naraku. He did whatever it took to survive, his last promise his only motive.
So why did he become a bandit? Who knows. Perhaps he hated the daimyo so much that he wanted to pay them back by become a criminal. But whatever the case, the promise he made was still kept.
-Back to the present-
Naraku chuckled to himself as the memory faded back into his mind. 'Heh,' he thought. 'The one part of Onigumo I kept, other than his ability to control and use minions.'
It was quite true; Onigumo's desire to survive lived on within the demon Naraku. It came quiet handy in many situations.
'Oh ho,' quipped a different voice within him. 'So the great and powerful Naraku is essentially a half-demon?'
'Still skulking around in my mind, Akuma?' thought Naraku.
'Fine as ever.' Despite the fact that Naraku couldn't see the ex-Nature elementalist, he could still sense the smarmy, mocking grin he was receiving.
'So, Naraku,' mused Akuma. 'Now that you've wrecked my grand army and assimilated me and my five most powerful servants, what will you do next?'
'Simple,' Naraku replied. 'I will let them take the first initiative. How I react will depend on what they do.'
'Really now? I thought that your were going to hunt them down like animals once you got used to this stolen body of yours.'
Naraku narrowed his eyes in annoyance, then returned to his usual smooth manner. 'So how did you know this?'
He could imagine Akuma tapping his head knowingly. 'We share the same mind, you and I. I just know how to lock the doors. You don't.' Naraku received yet another sneer.
In response, Naraku sent a flash of pain through his own mind, directed at Akuma. The sorcerer reeled in pain, but still did not give up his smarmy attitude.
'Heh heh heh...you may control the powers of all seven elements, Naraku, but you had better watch your back... you are not safe even in your own mind.' Akuma left behind a ringing chuckle before he retreated back into his portion of the mind.
Naraku sighed to himself. Breaking into a new body was a long and difficult process indeed...especially if your "mind-mate" has a smart mouth.
-The Gang's headquarters-
Sango stepped cautiously into small storage room, peering through the dim light. She had just finished a bath, and after deciding she had some time to kill, she decided to check out the storage room.
The room was almost...homely, despite the fact that it was cluttered with strange objects of various sizes and types. After picking her way through what seemed to be tatami rice mats and a skull of a large demon, she found a large koto sitting on the ground.
'What's this doing here?' wondered Sango. But her curiosity got the better of her and she pulled the unwieldy instrument out and plopped it on the ground.
As her soft hands ran over the ancient wood of the koto, she remembered something from her old taijya village:
-Flashback to Sango's childhood-
"Sango!" called out the deep, melodic voice.
The young girl, no more than ten years old, looked up from her tumbling bout with her pet Kirara and ran to her chichi-ue.
"Hai, otou-san?"
The older man smiled gently and began unwrapping a large, rectangular object. "Now that you've become an apprentice slayer, I've decided to make you a little gift." He finished unwrapping the object and handed it to Sango. "Here. Your mother was starting to get a little irritated after you kept playing on her koto, so I decided to get one just for you."
Sango marveled at the high sheen on instrument as she inspected it as it lay on the ground. "Sugoi..." she whispered.
The strings were an alloy of iron and youkai guts, while the body itself was constructed out of sturdy yet light bird demon bones. Every bit of the instrument was polished to perfection, and when Sango experimentally struck a string, it brought forth a crystal clear note that soothed her mind.
"How do you like it, my little one?"
"Oh papa, I love it!"
-Back to the present-
Sango smiled mirthlessly as the memories flashed through her mind. 'Those were some good old times,' she thought. The beautiful koto she treasured so much was lost along with the lives of the people in the village on that horrid day...
After rummaging around for the finger picks, she found them and put them on. 'A little tight,' she thought. 'But they'll do.'
She decided to test the old instrument by playing a chord. It sounded a little dull with age and neglect, but it would do. So she set to work, playing an old melody she recalled from her childhood.
It wasn't long before she attracted some attention...
"Sango?"
She was so lost in the music that she was caught completely off guard that even Miroku's jingling staff hadn't alerted her until his voice did.
"Err, umm, h-hai, houhsi-sama?" she squeaked. Miroku limped slightly to her postion and sat down beside her.
"My, that was a charming tune you were playing koi. Care to tell me where you got it?"
She stiffened up a little bit and said blankly, "My old taijya village. It was my mother's favorite song." Miroku decided it was best to leave this subject untouched.
"Gomen Sango. Could you continue playing, onegai? They say that music is calming to the soul...and in my case, my wounds. Your method of treatment makes healers in our world look like mere laymen, but my cuts are still a little bit sore..."
Sango grinned foxily at Miroku and said slyly, "Then would you like for me to rub them for you, houshi-sama?"
She couldn't help but crack up when Miroku looked more than a little shaken up by the comment. "Just a little joke houshi-sama; I'm not a sukebe like you." The last part was said with a teasing wink.
The monk replied with mock defeat, "#Sigh#, and to think I've actually begun to rub off on you..." He shook his head with false sadness and motioned for her to continue to keep playing.
The graceful tunes that Sango plucked out reminded Miroku of something from his past...
-Flashback to Miroku's childhood-
The (incredibly ugly) geishas danced clumsily around the three men as they tried their best to get the best out of seemingly ill-spent (and ripped off) money...
Which was all but impossible, seeing that these geishas were extremely desperate and were much more... suggestive...than all the other geishas that were invited to the temple.
Miroku was only six then, at a time when his father was still alive and he was pretty much a content boy. Not one-hundred percent happy, mind you, but content as you could get.
But back to the fat, clumsy geishas...
One of them was obviously drunk and made a move for the chibi Miroku, who could only stare in horror as the disfigured face descended down toward him making disgusting kissing noises.
"Chichi-ue! HELP!!!"
-End flashback-
He shuddered involuntarily. Ok, maybe Sango's tune didn't remind him of that horrifying time. But he did enjoy her wonderful playing. Soon, the darkness of sleep took him over to the Happy Hunting Grounds (where dozens of women looking very familiar to a certain taijya pranced about in the meadows).
Seeing that the monk had gone off to sleep, Sango stopped playing and looked upon Miroku's sleeping face.
'You know...he looks really cute in his sleep...' she blushed at her own thoughts. Maybe Miroku really was rubbing off of her. But in either case, she decided that now would be a good time to sleep.
"Good night...Miroku."
"Mmm, Sango..." came the sleepy reply. At this point, Sango determined that it was better for her to leave quickly before her head exploded from the amount of blood rushing in.
She gave the sleeping houshi one last look before she went off to her futon.
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So? How was this one? R&R!!!