1Searching For Her Past

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Disclaimer/Author's Note:

IrisJean: Hello there! It is I, IrisJean, the author this story and owner of this account, here as the narrator of the upcoming tale.

Iris Jean: Greetings and salutations, this is Iris Jean, here as well. I am the main character in this tale, although this tale is actually about Mira. Maddie and I are just more important than Mira and Angela, which is the reason why. I am based of the authoress is some ways; mostly, however, I am a separate entity that is a mixture of Mira and Maddie. (Needless to say, for all of you who read the original versions of these stories, I have changed a lot—our darling narrator has gotten better at writing and developed herself, so I'm all better now.)

IrisJean: At the beginning or the end of each chapter—sometimes both—I will pop in with one of the characters in this story to discuss things or just say hi. This will most likely always be a charie of my own invention, or several people, depending on what I feel like doing. Here I can talk about important information and topics, or just goof around as I feel like. For example, right now we are here to speak to you about...

Iris Jean: Wait a moment.

IrisJean: ...WHAT?

Iris Jean: sighs We can't both be Iris Jean (spelled differently or not)—that'll confuse our readers!

IrisJean: Oh…good point. Alrighty then, from now on I (the author) shall be known as IJ, while you (my creation) will go by your nickname, Iri. It works out better that way. Now, as I was saying…

Iri: defiant How about no.

IJ: sighs, frustrated by the difficult attitude in Iri that she is used to in...well...herself (Madeline) And why in the hell not?

Iri: Just cuz. Now—how about I be SexySesshieSama, and you can be EvilBitch.

EvilBitch: Grrrr…

SexySesshieSama: mischievous grin—got that from Mira; (Mira: Yay! I'm rubbing off on that goody-two-shoes!) Alright folks, that's all the time we have for today. EvilBitch does not own the show InuYasha or any of it's characters, although she does "own" me and Hikaru and those other OCs (most of the original characters, in any case). Although…it is too bad she doesn't (and can't)

own Sesshomaru-sama…smiles seductively, adopting the vixenous smile and ears of Megumi Takani from Rurouni Kenshin—when did Mira take over her mind?

EvilBitch: disgusted by Iri's look; doesn't want to think about him that way EWWWWWWWWWW! THAT'S DISGUSTING! I don't need these images! mentally throws computer at her alternate self—hard—even though she is just as bad and way worse; never will be affected, never can be affected, but still doesn't feel like it!

SexySesshieSama: Hahaha! You missed!

FluffySesshySama: ...

Chapter One: The Mysterious Woman

Iri silently and gracefully fumed as she tugged her silver-and-black hairbrush through long and silky golden-blonde hair. It was a bit of a difficult job, but with years of practice, combing waist-length hair has become an art for her, something she is good at that gives her time to think and—hopefully—to calm down. She kept her emerald eyes closed as she completed her task with love and care, despite her angry disposition. Kneeling by a sluggishly-paced river, Iri had just bathed herself using a bit of soft cloth; she was now wearing a long silver kimono made out of silk most unlike anything that exists in her world today. She was feeling a little bit more than slightly miserable, in desperate need of a way to vent, but as a proper lady that is hardly ever awarded her.

There are several reasons for her anger, as well as a few that are more..."huh?" The three main ones are as follows:

1). She's tired;

2). She has no clothes to wear;

3). She still hasn't started a term paper that's due in...NEGATIVE SEVEN DAYS!

She has been unable to get much sleep lately because of a terrible onslaught of demons, which are more annoying than dangerous; Sesshomaru and her have had to work nonstop to slay them, however weak they are they arrive in numbers, to keep Rin safe (and you know Jaken is no bloody help). Many a night she has slept (more like passed out) propped-up against a nearby tree, textbook in her lap, only to be interrupted by one demon or another—she cannot even count the number of times she has had to use some spell cleanse her textbook of it's newfounded evil aura or mountain of blood and guts. All because of these distractions and obstacles, she has been unable to travel back to her own time and work on her term paper, which is a very important part of her irrationally slipping grade.

Iri is the most intelligent 17-year-old girl in all of modern-day Japan (and I am not saying this to brag any more than she would; it's the cold, hard truth). However, she has always been very beautiful and extremely kind, so few people ever even realize how much of a genius she truly was...is. Unfortunately, this is no longer as evident as it once was to those who matter most. Ever since she discovered, on accident, that she had the power to travel back in time to the land of magic and demons, good and evil, gods and goddesses, where history and fantasy comes to life, her grades have been steady declining—the worst is a D in AP Physics. Especially since she "inherited" almost unlimited powers from her past life and ancient bloodline.

This slip was ESPECIALLY evident during the time in which she discovered that she loved Sesshomaru, he refused to admit the truth, and she gave up, nearly dying, breaking down. Everything worked out in the end, as happily as can be, but she still hasn't recovered completely from those events of nearly three months ago.

Iri is descended from power through both her mother (who is Japanese) and her father (who is half American—hence her completely not Japanese name); she is also the reincarnation of Mira, one of the most powerful beings of Japan's mythical past. Hidden in old, dusty volumes of the truth deemed fiction, hundreds of pictures of her can be found, history, powers, everything...not completely accurate or clear, but acknowledged all the same. The best always are; you just have to know where to look. Problem is, a lot of books and documents didn't survive, hence the worldwide denial of the truth.

Mira's infinite powers were said to only be limited by four things: her mind, her body, her spirit, and her soul. This translates into what she knows, what's she's trained herself to do, how she feels, and how much she can will herself to accomplish. Some parts of that, the details, are a bit fuzzy even to Iri, so she's not quite sure what it all means. There is still so much she doesn't know, despite all the research she has done—the only way to really find out is to be there and see all that she can see. Well, she's halfway there, at least.

That's what she has spent the last three months doing, mostly to get her mind off of the incident, as well as to state her curiosity and thirst for knowledge: she has been exploring, wandering, hunting down information and learning all that she can. Iri has gone off and dragged the others along with her. They don't mind, as unoriented as they are; and if any of them do, it matters not, for they say nothing out of fear. (Guess who I'm referring to there.)

As time went on, Mira's spirit, soul and bloodline has strengthened considerably. With each new life her soul grows and develops. Power builds up, remaining dormant until the difference is measurable and significant. It took five hundred some years, but here she is, back yet again. Her wisdom has also grown; this has all come together to produce Iri in all her glory.

All this means is that Iri is stronger and more evolved than Mira ever was...or is.

The world has grown, and so has she.

It took a very long time, but Iri has finally gotten Sesshomaru to open up and admit how he truly feels about her, how much he loves her and can't go on without her; the same as she feels about him. He knew from the beginning that she felt the same way, even when she didn't; however, he is so cold and heartless, that it took her actually dying to jar the truth out of him.

All that was needed for this was a gothic phase (in which Iri grew distant and depressed, detached and unfeeling—losing all of her friends, who still loved her but couldn't reach her, and growing apart from the family that loved her; in this time her grades also slipped so horribly that she was temporarily transferred to a...a...normal high school for average students); several suicidal people (including and being mainly Iri herself); a lot of threats (from concerned family and friends who cared "too much"); wrath and anger (mostly from Iri's "sister" and more violent friends); many fallen tears (from Iri, her more emotional friends, and her mother); concerned and hurting friends and family (best friends who didn't know the real reasons why but hated anything that could do such horrible things to one they cared for so, as well as one who knew and hated Sesshomaru specifically); pissed-off family members (mom, at first, dad, until all was explained, "sister", who still hasn't gotten over it); and Iri's death (her suicide). But it all worked out fine in the end, so Iri can't really complain. Others can, but she's perfectly happy. (In fat, she thinks that it was all worth it—she keeps that belief hidden, because no one, not no one else agrees with her—or would if she told them).

Now iri travels with Sesshomaru (uh, no duh?), Rin (awww!), Jaken (ewww!), Ah-Un (cool!), and Iri's soul-creature, spirit-mate, other-half, life-pet: Sapphire Blue Blaze, the Blue Tiger. She is the demon who is Iri's own, personal companion, beast-of-burden, friend and guide. Without her she would have never traveled back in time to feudal Japan or even begun to travel with Sesshomaru. They are linked on a subconscious and spiritual level; bound together, in a way. Sapphire knows everything about Iri and is always there for her, no matter what may happen. She is an ice and water tiger demon of three forms: tiger cub, grown tiger, and ice tigress. She unlocked Iri's powers in the beginning and trained her until she is who she is today. In the beginning, Sapphire was needed; now she isn't, but that doesn't stop her from staying. She still has her uses. (She is a great tracker, hunter, guide, she can fly, and watch Rin, and…SHE'S TOO CUTE FOR WORDS!)

Sapphire, in the beginning, directly guided her to Sesshomaru as was her instinct, guided by fate; she is also the one who protected Iri from the dog demon until he had accepted her and begun to love her. Even then she stayed by her side. The very first action Sapphire served after they became acquainted was loaded down with significance not clear to the goddess until just recently; now she can be all the more grateful to the little creature. She is Iri's ride, Rin's defendant, their watch "dog" and protection, serving her in a way that Sesshomaru does as well. She is a great fighter and protector, as well as extremely intelligent and wise.

Iri returned back to earth; wondering why for only a moment, frozen and on full alert, she heard an odd noise for the second time, explaining why she was all of a sudden back down to reality. She sat perfectly still, fully awake and aware of all of her surroundings. There it was for a third time! A faint rustling somewhere in the bushes that surrounded the stream on each side...only the noise came from her side. She didn't recognize the aura, so whoever it was, it was a stranger. Along with the rustling Iri caught the musky, pleasant scent of cats—an unfamiliar cat; almost certainly demonic. She didn't move, not a muscle, brush pulled down halfway through her hair.

Even as she sat there she used her magic to reach out, search for, find and identify the source of the sound and smell. The noise-maker remained perfectly still, trying to avoid further detection; the first noises had been flukes, accidents, unintended and uncharacteristic. It was, however, far too late. Still, the intruder was not about to give up. They stopped their breath and stilled their heart. Iri didn't even need to use any additional energy to locate the tracker through hearing; her magic easily and immediately sensed the demonic aura (which was not as strong as it should be) and smelled their body (can't mask your scent by willpower alone). Iri could smell the fear, the sweat, the anger, and the horrible, painful hatred. Wait! There's another scent; she can't quite place it...Oh dear lord. It's blood. Human blood. Female blood!

Iri picked up her small and extremely sharp katana from where it lay within reach, just in case. She was careful to stand up and move slowly, which was no problem for such a graceful and sneaky creature as her—she could be an assassin—as well as with intense caution; cockiness can get you killed far more easily than a more powerful opponent. The small katana was black-sheathed, white-hilted and silver-bladed, elegant and deadly. She kept her eyes on the offending bush, her ears on the one within, stepping slowly and at an angle. Her brush lay abandoned by the river; slowly she unsheathed the blade, creeping closer and closer to the cat demon. She took her time, careful to never alert the trespasser of her actions or intentions. The sheath was dropped down by her brush, and Iri was almost upon the demon...

Never did she look away, her face set and blank, eyes cold and focused. Paying more attention to smell and sight and intuition, Iri approached the trees underneath with the bush grew. This is where the peeping tom was hiding. Slowly she approached, stepping one bare foot over another, grace and skill and deadly beauty second nature to her. Cautious, moving slowly...

Then, standing before the push, she shot out with speed and precision too perfect for anything short of a demon lord to track, sense, predict or defend and react against, pouncing upon her unsuspecting prey. She grabbed the creature by the scruff of it's neck (actually, the collar of their shirt) and yanked it clear of the bushes, squashing all hopes or possible attempts at escape by gently but firmly placing the razor sharp edge of her katana at their throat. The intruder stilled before ever even moving. It gave her power, however grudgingly; the "human" was in control. Power dictates who wins, who loses, and who rules. That's the way of life: the strong ruling and the weak dying is all a matter of perspective—are they stronger or weaker than you?

This didn't last long, since Iri dropped her dagger out of shock upon seeing the peeper clearly for the first time.

This wasn't what she had been expecting in the slightest. For one thing, the creature was a hanyou, half human and half demon. For another, the hanyou was very young, perhaps forty or fifty years old, which is young for a hanyou (younger for a youkai). They could perhaps pass for fifteen or sixteen—seventeen was possible, but stretching it. Still wet behind the ears, another thing that shocked Iri was that this was a female demon. Not for any sort of biased reason, but more for the fact that it was a girl that was watching her. She decided not to think about that. The hanyou is half jaguar demon, half human, with long and scraggly black hair that would be beautiful if cared for; upon closer inspection it was spotted with lighter brown spots, like those subtle ones of true black jaguars. The woman seethed with pride, anger, hatred, contempt and a desire to prove herself, show others that she was strong and didn't need anybody for anything. She seemed to hate Iri immediately.

After all that, what really surprised our lady was the obvious lack of maliciousness. This hanyou values life, has respect for it, hates but does not kill frivolously; as if to make herself better than humans and demons alike. The blood was the hanyous—the female blood—although she bleeds youkai smelling blood, as some was leaking down her throat. A mystery, but at least Iri knows that it was not from some recent murder.

This hanyou was prideful and dignified; or, at least, she tries to be—a ferocious kitten—"she don't take nothin' from nobody." She knows that hanyous are no less than humans and/or demons (in fact, she may think that they're more than), and she wants to prove her knowledge to the world. She's grown up being hated by both sides of her heritage (same goes for all half-breeds) and she wants to show all of then that she is, by far, better than they will ever be.

She was, in other words, your average hanyou. Poor girl grew up despising demons for hating her, scorning her, shunning her, belittling her like she was less than they, weaker, to be despised like her other half's kind. Along with that she was raised hating humans possibly even more because she has been subject to their dislike since she was little, as well as being born with demon blood that hates them instinctively, their fear for her youkai relatives they can't take out on them, so they beat her, hurt her, insult her—and the demons do nothing. Humans fear her and her "kind", and what they fear they hate, and what they hate they kill—or at least they try to. They leave the demons alone because they can do nothing, but the weak, small, innocent, defenseless her is easy prey.

Iri immediately softened to this young girl, for she understands how she feels, although she has never personally gone through such horrors on that sort of a scale. She is empathic, amongst many other things, and she feels and knows what others feel and know. However, she has gone through something similar in her past, only on a much smaller and to a less deadly degree. But, at heart, it's all the same; horrible, painful and permanently scarring. Ever since she has gone through what she's gone through, Iri retains less hate and anger towards others, especially when she relates to them. She just can't stay mad at such a (relatively) defenseless and weak fledgling. Her grip became slack; which the demon immediately noticed and processed as a weakness.

This jaguar hanyou does not share Iri's sentiment in any way, shape or form, on the other hand, and she was prepared to use it to her advantage. All her life she has been subject to exile, outcasted by humans and demons—who are, when you think about it, so similar that it's no wonder hanyous are treated so horribly. Neither would ever admit it, of course. Even her own siblings on either end of the spectrum had turned against her; while her parents (the only human and demon who had ever loved and accepted her) died on her too early to ever really help her in this world that hates her. Now she has no one to trust, making her very bitter an resentful towards all.

She is full of intense loathing, seething hate, consuming detestation, and it has made her cold and hardened her heart, making her blind to all the good things about each, and about the world. In her completely biased, but far from unjust opinion, all humans are the same, all demons uniform. Horrible, despicable, evil. Bringers of hurt and pain. She has never seen or met any exceptions—for even her parents have hurt her, by dying; and her younger siblings don't count, they don't know any better—so she cannot even consider the fact that some may exist. (Stereotypes!) Although unsure of what Iri is, she hates her; for such has to be something, and the only two choices are human and demon (to her, in any case...she doesn't know any better). Human or demon, it matters not at the moment, for Iri is stronger, a threat, and she desperately wishes to be free. She is a threat to this hanyou's survival, and that makes her the immediate enemy.

Her motto, her belief, is that no human or demon can be trusted. They are all the same. They all want all hanyou's dead. They all deserve to burn in hell. They are all dangerous. Stay away from them, because if you don't, you're dead. Iri, however, is too strong to easily overcome and get away from, even with her slackened grip; too strong for the jaguar to break free...

"Let...me...go!" the cat demanded in short, breathless bursts, struggling against Iri's hold on her, voice a rolling growl which escalated to a desperate, angry whine from the initial bark-like and menacing tone. Despite the fact that resistance is always futile, and even she knows perfectly well that she cannot escape, she refused to give in, lay down and die. She continued to struggle, to push away. When Iri shook her head, saying no quite plainly, perfectly calm and solemn and unaffected, the hanyou began to freak out, afraid for her life. She saw that the end was near. There was no emotion in Iri's actions, and that frightened the jaguar; she didn't matter, her death would be so casual, and there is nothing she can do. All hope was lost; she shall never get free.

The jaguar's mind clouded and all rationale escaped her, primal instincts taking over; the desire to live was all that drove her actions now. She began to lash out, panic and desperation blind and deadly, a cornered rat wanting to live. The result of her wild, frantic, desperate fury and fear was the affliction of three deep, dark cuts across Iri's right arm, evenly spaced apart from one another, thanks to the hanyou's long and sharp white claws. Iri gasped—more surprised and in shock than in any actual pain—and let the hanyou go. The jaguar was so surprised that she dropped down, hitting her back on the hard and unforgiving ground, knocking the wind out of her.

Iri reached up and clutched her bleeding arm on instinct, although the area that was bleeding far surpassed the size of her hand. The cuts were very deep and bleeding heavily, but there were of no real threat to her; she is immune to infection, and unless her body falls into shock, she will produce blood until the end of time. Her legs gave out in a very human instinctual reaction, all of which she has not yet rid herself of. Her mouth was open wide in shock, brow furrowed slightly in pain. It was nothing, really, for one such as her, but her body doesn't quite know that yet.

So much blood was gushing out of her right arm, however, that Iri was having trouble halting the flow, which stained the ground and the river, her hairbrush, her blade and its sheath—not to mention her. She held her limp arm and gritted her teeth, vision growing blurry. Her breathing came out in short, difficult gasps.

"...Ow!" they both shouted at the same time, mutual delayed reactions to recent pains. For a single moment they were brought closer together through their shared pain and slight understanding. That soon passed, and Iri's look then held displeasure, while the hanyou's held even more hatred than before. They blamed one another fairly, but Iri still couldn't bring herself to hate the poor kitten.

Failing to have any sort of positive effect on her still bleeding arm without something to cover it completely, Iri tore her cloak and wrapped the silken fabric around her wounds. This helped somewhat, but the fabric was too thin and was soon soaked all the way through. The clothing's lack of substantiality also created another small problem; it had ripped too much under Iri's recklessly large amount of force, and so most of her near-naked body was exposed for all the world to see. Only a few tatters of her once glorious cloak and a sexy white and lacy set of lingerie served to hide the most private parts of her body from view.

All of her practical clothes are too ruined to wear, and now even the unpractical one is ruined. This was her last garment, a gift from her lord to herself! Luckily Iri is confident in herself, priding her body's beauty and attractiveness, also able to walk around naked without a shred of self-doubt or shame, a lady through and through, but that's not the point! She was awfully grumpy as she pushed herself up to a standing position on shaky but still stable legs; they were strong and balanced, so despite her body's violent reaction, she could stand without falling or wobbling too much. The jaguar demon, of course, had made no move to help—not that Iri needed any, of course. She remained laid down on the ground, glaring up at her captor, wishing more than anything right now that she would just fall into the rocky river and die.

"You stupid cat," Iri grumbled unhappily, not really meaning it, but needing some slight way to vent her anger—which had been building up before this and has just now taken a violent stumble into out of control. Her attention was directed on her arm and keeping the makeshift bandage on, even as she continued to speak. "Look at what you did! Now I have to walk around, bleeding and half-naked, attracting all manners of demons notice until I can get cleaned up and re-clothed, my wounds taken care of and so forth. This doesn't bode so well for you either."

The hanyou picked herself up and spat at Iri's feet in a very rude and defiant gesture. She didn't even try to hide her hate and disdain—not that she had at all before. "I'll do fine, thanks for not caring. Besides, it's not like it matters. If it kills you, good; the wound won't, but I hope demons come and devour you for it. You people deserve the hard life, far more than you will ever experience it, as is the unfair way of the world. You don't deserve life in the first place, and yet you are awarded good ones. As for your precious garment? Is that you feinting modesty? I suspect it'll actually boost your chance of survival; as bare at that, more will be attracted to you, to fight your battles for you, and protect you; all in exchange for your body, which I'm sure you give away freely in the first place, seeing as how all female humans and demons are whores, so no matter what you are you'll be free and available to whoever comes by..."

Silent, soundless and undetected, too fast and well-trained to be noticed, too careful and experienced to be seen, Sesshomaru had finally shown up, coming to Iri's "rescue" (he had heard her first exclamation, but he had been a bit far away; he had to determine if he should go, and then there was Rin...plus, not much time has passed). He quickly silenced the hanyou's offending speech by pressing his cold, sharp Tokijin to her throat in a silent order for her to fall silent, else her head'll be chopped off. She immediately obeyed, as any being would (should). (SexySesshieSama: Here to avenge, protect and shield! FluffySesshySama!)

The jaguar froze completely, hardly even daring to breath, willing herself not to move. She begged the gods for luck, so that her body would obey and not award the angry demon and further reason to slit her throat. Sesshomaru, the merciless demon who acts without hesitation or compassion, remained perfectly still, waiting, his eyes cold and mind unclouded by rage or any other sort of dehabilitating emotion. Blank and indifferent, he was all the scarier for it. His grip was so hard and unforgiving that Tokijin began to cut ever so little and droplets of blood began to roll down the cat's neck, causing her to shudder, sure that she was going to die.

The only thing holding him back was Iri's presence; not even his relatively newfounded "humanity" (morality—a human trait very few of them seem to possess) was doing much to keep him from killing the half-demon. If it wasn't for that one, extremely key factor he would probably had never stopped, just kept going, taking her head completely off—well, actually, he probably would not have come, but that is not the point. Instead he waits to kill her—something he will probably do no matter what.

He wanted to kill her so badly…all it would take was one jab forward, one slight wrist movement…so close…just one little lean-in would have done it, slitting her throat and letting her red blood flow…

Iri withheld no desire for her Sesshomaru to spill any blood in the defense of her honor (which she is very sure of, hence why no "protection" is needed)—she would have been honored, this is true, but it would be a pointless waste of life. This hanyou is not (that) dangerous; in fact, she is most likely innocent, a pure soul in a cynical body. Iri knew that she could get through to and help the poor girl, given time. Her kind and gentle nature didn't want life wasted; her helpful and intrigued nature didn't want this existence to be a failure.

She stepped forward, pushing Tokijin down with two fingers from her left hand, hardly exerting any actual pressure. It wasn't her that forced the blade down, but Sesshomaru who complied and did as she wished for him too. All hints of any possible bloodlust dissipated, and he finally lowered Tokijin all the way.

He turned to her and, upon seeing her soft warning glare, he relaxed the rest of the way and re-sheathed his blade in compliance. (EvilBitch: There is no actual sheath for his Tokijin, but whatever). He then pulled himself up to his full height, and although it in and of itself is not all that intimidating (he stand 5'8" tall, Iri stands 5'4" tall, while the hanyou is stretching 5'3"), his very presence is so strong that it seems as if he is seven feet tall. (EvilBitch: Yoko comes to mind...) The cat cowered in fear under his strong, frightful gaze. She clutched her throat, which was cut a little in some places, blood warm and pulse throbbing.

Great! Just wonderful! As if all of this couldn't get any worse...

Silly rabbit...you must never say—or even think—things such as that. Because then, as an end result, things get worse—much worse!

Iri bent down next to the jaguar-hanyou, feeling no shred of fear or worry, still holding the blood-stained cloth in place against her bleeding arm, wounds steadily gushing even now. Her blood dripped steadily, creating a small pool by the cat's leg, which began to run like a river to the lake of her already spilt blood, which had begun to soak up into the ground, awesome nourishment for the trees—demonic or normal, it matters not; they all love it a whole lot.

She made sure that they were at eye-level with one another; her emerald orbs of concern and kindness met the burning black pools of distrust and scorn—eyes which portrayed hatred and loathing, eternal hurt, pain and suffering; but above all that, fear and desperation for her life and safety, sadness and an underlying need and desire to be loved, which she is sadly ashamed of, trying to hide it, hurting her own heart all the more.

She would have liked nothing better than to slice Iri to ribbons right at that moment—how dare she know so much about me, as if she has the right!—but she wanted life and moderate safety more; you can't get everything, so you must weigh what is most probable and more desirable. Iri sighed sadly, knowing of her thoughts and inward desires—the ones on the surface, I mean. Sesshomaru could sense them, even, from where he stood several feet away.

Frightened and angry young bloods are awfully irrational and bull-headed, hard to get through to and help...how annoying for me and troublesome for us all...

"What's your name?" Iri asked, deciding to begin with the formalities; these tend to warm people up, get them comfortable, making everyone seem that much more human and on the same general page. Aside from that, names are titles to be worn with pride, necessary for people to be able to address one another and know a little bit about them, avoiding confusion and awkward attention-seeking. "Mine is Iri, his is Sesshomaru." She even avoided titles.

The half-demon avoided nothing; she didn't answer the question. "Mine name is none of your affair!" she spat angrily. One cold, cruel glare from Sesshomaru that Iri either didn't notice or pretended to miss shut her up and made her feel awfully compliant. Iri just waited patiently, knowing that she would give in. Her tone lost none of its anger, rude force, pride or defiance, but at least it did as it was bid: "My name is Hikaru Maila Bara, daughter of the Great Lady Jaguar Fuumi Mila Bara and the honorable Lord Shinichi! I am half earth-jaguar and proud of it! As for you, you whore of a human, demon bitch, disgrace to us all, you can just rot in hell, so don't act like you care about me when I know perfectly well that you don't, same as all the rest!"

Iri grew wide-eyed; her head hung down sadly, her eyes closed and her hand went up to hold her throbbing temple. Shit! How stupid do you have to be? How stupid can you be? She knows of my power, his power, his care, his presence...and yet she says such things? He was set off by less from before! I just don't get it. Hikaru must have been relying on Iri's ability to hold Sesshomaru back or something, because she spoke as if he couldn't reach her; as she will soon discover, Iri can't stop everything—especially not Sesshomaru when he's bent on killing someone...especially for her. He gets so angry and uncontrollable—she's screwed.

His eyes flared red, his fangs bared. Lunging forth, he grabbed Hikaru's throat seconds after her eyes grew wide with fear and realization. Yanking her up and throwing her back, she hit the trunk of a tree, standing momentarily paralyzed as he advanced. Iri rose swiftly, hoping that there was still time for her to interfere. She didn't see that as likely by the look in his eye.

"God-dammit-all-to-hell!" she cursed softly under her breath.

What must be done to reverse her stupidity? What can be done? Is there any hope for her puny life? Is there any hope for redemption? Nothing short of bloodshed will disperse this demons inhuman wrath, and knowing that I somehow doubt that all will be spared...

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