Night Calls
Disclaimer: I do not own InuYasha, nor do I own its characters. I do, however, own Yure Takeshi and the events revolving around her -- these include her circumstances in the feudal era as well as the movies mentioned in the story ( and to the best of my knowledge, these movies do not exist ).
Summary: There was one other survivor from the Demon Slayer Village, but she wasn't there during the decimation. Where was she? More of a when. Somehow, she found herself in "present-day Japan" and eighteen years later, she returns to the time in which she truly belongs -- certainly, this wasn't in the devious plan of the nefarious Naraku as well! Or was it?
Rated for safety. And what kind of writer would I be if I didn't ask for a response from the readers?
1.:.It Started With A Dream.:.1
"Mommy!" "Yume, no! Stay hidden!" "But I want t--"
The little girl's words ceased when she felt her mother's arms wraparound her. She could feel her feet lift off the ground before her mother ran with her to safety from the horde of demons that had suddenly appeared in the village.It wasn't just a coincidence they showed up while the village's strongest fighters were gone. It couldn't have been. Not in the little girl's mind. As the woman was running, however, the little Yume felt a warm feeling rush over her. When the two feel and hit the ground, the girl squeezed her eyes shut as tightly as possible, but when she opened them, she saw what was causing the warmth. Blood. And above them (the girl and her mother's body) stood a skeleton demon armed with an old blade drenched in blood more than it bore rust. An intense expression of fear made its way to her face when the point of the demon's blade was shoved towards her.
"Mommy!"
The young woman -- in her early twenties, no older -- shot up in her bed, bearing a cold sweat before realizing that she was safe in her room. A sigh of relief escaped her throat and she leaned back to lie down before turning her head to the bright red numbers on her clock to realized that she had to get up for work in seventeen minutes anyway.
"I haven't seen that place in eighteen years," she muttered to herself as she pushed herself out of bed and walked over to her window, "I always have dreams, but never one like that..." She shook her head, sending her long black ponytail (highlighted blood red when the light hit it) to swish about, while the woman turned around and started toward her desk. When she sat down, she turned her gaze to the wall in front of her where a clipped magazine article was pinned. She scanned the following from the introductory paragraph:
"Eighteen years ago, a little girl clad in garbs of what appeared to be the feudal era was found wandering about the streets of Japan. She was adopted by a newly-wed couple and, years later, she was discovered by a scout. She then became the well-known actress (also known for her singing parts in such movies as The Silent Blade and The Next Victim) whose name is revered nation-wide."
Tearing her attention from the article, she shook her head again before she looked down at her desk, pulled a journal out from a drawer, opened it to an empty page, and started writing.
I've always had dreams. As written in pages before this, they've all been the same; however, there were more like memories than they were dreams. I was there. A woman, who I am assuming was my mother, picked me up when I was a child. She ran. We were all surrounded by demons. I managed to escape, but she was able to do so as one of the monsters had caught her. I didn't want to run while she was in peril, but she made me -- she told me to. Scared, I did as instructed. The dream always eneded when I was outside of the village -- too far for a mere cry of help to travel.I was all alone, save this one demon who had managed to catch my scent and track me down. Every single time, the demon, at this moment, would go in for the kill and, every single time, the same thing would hapen: with the appearance of an arrow, a shot of light would pierce through the beast. I'd look over to see the silhouette of what appeared to be a Shinto priestess before passing out.
The woman looked at her entry and her brows automatically furrowed.She knew very well that it was grammatically incorrect to have a colon directly after a verb; however, she brushed it off for a moment -- or, at least...until it would rise to bother her later. In any case, she could continue writing.
...It's thern that I would wake up and find myself in the comfort of my home
For a few moments, she paused to look at the last word of the incomplete sentence. In less than a second, she flipped her pencil over, erased it, and tried it again.
...in the comfort of my house -- the one that I have only obtained by the windows of luck -- but we all know what happened after that. My five-year-old self woke up five hundred years lster in the time in which I now live. This isn't how this particular dream happened, however. It took place in the same village, yes, but, the people were different as if the eighteen years had finally passed there, too. Despite the time difference, the same event happened, though as I woke up, I was given the impression that it did not end very well. As of now, I don't know what happened to the village, but I fear now that in may be no more. I fear for the village. My true home -- the Demon Slayer Village.