Chapter Fourteen

Marionette Man

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He tied you to the kitchen chair. He broke your throat, he cut your hair, and from your lips, he drew the hallelujah.'

Hallelujah Rufus Wainwright

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The young sun beat down on the earth, casting a golden tint on everything it touched. Inu Yasha's eyes opened slowly, squinting from the bright light, and he stretched out his limbs, yawning as he did so from his position on the stoop. His skin was caked with mud and he decided that the first thing he would do when he got inside was take a shower.

As it turned out, his father decided not to leave for his weekendly trip of intoxication just yet. He walked over to the man's bedroom window and peered in, seeing the man's sleeping form toss and turn, hairy gut exposed. He winced and prayed to god tht he didn't look like that when he got older. Once again, thank the lord he took after his mother.

Come to think of it, he was practically her twin. He wondered, if she were still alive would people confuse them for siblings? After all, she had him when she was younger. If she was still alive how old would she be? He supposed it didn't matter, seeing as age is not an issue for demons. Demons' appearences can be decieving indeed.

He sighed, not daring to chance a knock on the window. Daddy's not a morning person. He supposed he would have to wait until the man woke up. He supposed this might take a while. Perhaps he decided to do his drinking or other things in the house? He cringed and crinkled his nose in disgust at the thought of the things he might find littering the house. Needles? Bottles? Broken glass? Leftovers? Ew, hopefully not leftovers.

He had to wonder how a man with hardly enough money to feed himself had enough money to buy alcohol and drugs every weekend. Enough alcohol and drugs to keep him fucked up the entire weekend. Sometimes he wondered if he would be abe to go to college. He defintely wanted to go. But those kinds of things are expensive. Perhaps by some miracle or other he would be able to go, but more than likely, it was just a far off dream.

He sighed and slumped down to the step that led to his house. Sometimes he wondered what the hell the neighbor's where doing all these years. He remembered meeting them once. They had a daughter. Or maybe it was a son? Or some visiting relative? Who cares anyways. Sometimes he thought that maybe they avoided him because they were scared of his father, but more thann likely it was his fangs, ears, and other demonic features.

Didn't they see him outside? Weren't people supposed to care about abused children? Then how come nobody wanted to save him? He was half human, after all. He remembered seeing commercials for things like child abuse, or women who were abused by their husbands. Funny thing though- He never saw a demon child or woman in any of those commercials. Only humans. Were they cuter or something? Well, so much for the kind heartedness of the human race. As far as he was concerned, there was one human in the world that would actually even notice if he dropped dead. But that was enough to keep him from doing so.

Kagome.

What is there to say about Kagome? Kagome is ... odd. Kind. Different. Unique. Carefree. Mysterious. Soft. He didn't exactly know where he got that last one, but there was indeed something about her that was very soft. The way she laughed, or the way she smiled. Maybe the way she felt. She had hugged him once before. It was the day after he had almost been beaten to death, quite literally, by his father. He remembered that embrace. He remembered the horrible pain too though. She made that feeling fade pretty quickly though. He didn't even know what it was about it.

He didn't exactly want Kagome in that way. He didn't even think about the idea of anybody hugging him. Ever. Somehow, that feeling, the one of physical closeness had been forgotten after his mother's death. Ever since then, nobody touched him, with the exception of his father's damaging hands. Nobody talked to him, aside from the occasional glare or awkward stare. Everyone just seemed to be happy thinking he wasn't there, or if they did notice him, throwing insults at him seemed to bring smiles to their faces.

Kagome was warm. Maybe that was it? Was it that warmth? She had a special kind of warm. Not really the warm summer day kind of warm, the thick enveloping kind of warmness that brings small beads of sweat to the skin. Nor was it the hot bath tub kind of warmth, the one that is omnipresent and brings blood to one's cheeks and a feeling of slight dizziness. It was more like the feeling of clothes fresh out of the dryer, the kind of warmth that hugs like a blanket. He didn't exactly know a word to describe the way that she felt. Warm. Soft. They fit, but somehow they seemed to be dancing around the subject. There was something else.

The back of the door swung open and hit him sharply on the back. He cringed and turned his neck slightly to greet the red blood shot eyes that greeted him. The man at the door held a steady gaze. The man's thick frown lines and saggy cheeks contrasted with the child's fresh youthful skin. He narrowed his eyes for a moment. The ball was almost completely covered by his fatty eyelids.

A grunt of contempt was heard and the man turned away, obviously just not in the mood to toss the regular insult. Perhaps he was scared that the neighbors were watching? Fuck, who cares if they neighbors were watching? They were always watching. Funny thing, though. They never really cared.

:Later:

Inu Yasha threw a plate of day old spaghetti on the table which a mans legs were perched. He felt someone's elbows jab into his ribs and yelped in compliance scuttling off to his only place of solitude, his closet of a room. He laid his heaping mound of schoolwork aside his bed and sat down carefully.

For the past few weeks, the beatings had been few and far apart. Ever since the last time he was beaten so severely he guessed his father decided to lay off of him, lest he break his favorite toy. Then he would have nothing to play with, and there was no fun to be had with a broken toy. In fact, that was all he was to his father': a little puppet. A marionette. Just a little trinket to entertain him. A little toy for him to do with as he pleased. He was only there to be abused. His only purpose was to be used. That and nothing more. He corrected the frown on his face and replaced it wih an unhappy smile.

He found that somtimes, even if he was feeling horrible, like the day that his fathers beatings were rough, or that couple of days when Kagome missed school because she had a flu, if he smiled, he could pull through. Being fake happy is almost as good as actually being happy, right? Some of the times, he really didn't even care. As long as it took the pain away for a while, he didn't care what the hell he was actually feeling. Every one always talks about showing your true feelings, but what if you don't even know what your true feelings are? What if you don't want to feel anything, because it hurts too much to do so? What then? Should you just let yourself suffer?

Numb can feel nice sometimes. But only when you can make it go away. Feeling is wonderful. Even if you feel bad things, when you feel good things, its like the bad doesn't even matter anymore. There is, indeed, a certain balance that these events have. For some reason, in the end things turn out fair somehow.

He sighed in utter disgust at the situation, the only fact that he was not being beaten horribly was because his father was afraid to kill him. And the only reason being for that was the fact that if Inu Yasha died then there would be nothing to entertain him.

As he scanned his body, he could scarcely see any remnants from the beating he had received before. Only small fading bruises and developing scars were visible, a small toll on his body, compared to the original amount of damage he had received.

Though there was one thing that bothered him. His chest. That dreaded miserable mutilation on his chest. It wouldn't go away! He had waited, and waited, yet the most it had done was scar over. All other cuts he had would have been completely healed by now, but this hideous monstrosity had only formed thin tan lines spelled in the very words he wished never to hear again! This situation confused him more than anything else. The cuts didnt seem so deep when they were fresh on his body, yet they stayed there on his chest.

Unloved.'

He knew what it meant but why had his father chosen that word? Of course, he knew this was probably some strange new way of torturing his son, knowing that Inu Yasha would never dare voluntarily speak to his father about anything. However, as Inu Yasha had noticed, when ever his father beat him, he was usually too angry, too possessed by his malice, to even think of performing such crude upon Inu Yasha's body as he had done.

This sudden change in style, he decided, would remain an enigma to him, as he never dared ask his father about the circumstances in which he decided to write, in blood, upon his own chest. His fingers traced the letters and he snarled before throwing his shirt back on. It was okay if no one loved him. Someday, someone would. He just needed to find them. It was such an aspiring thought.

Upon his entering his room, Shippou pounced pounced at him and locked himself against Inu Yasha's left leg. Inu Yasha smiled brightly at the little neko, seemingly attached to his leg. Hey Shippou. he said, still gleaming with happiness at being able to see his kitten.

Inu Yasha! was all he managed to squeak out.

I'm glad to see you too. he said with a hint of a laugh and just a tang of sarcasm in his voice.

You've been busy lately Inu Yasha. I haven't had much time to spend with you. He frowned slightly. I miss you...

Inu Yasha's bright smile faded quickly upon hearing the boys complaint. I know, Shippou, I know. School's been getting harder and harder. I have to do well in high school you know. They put this stuff on your permanent record. I want to become something when I grow up, you know? He bent down and patted the boy's head. But I promise I will do something with you soon. We can go somewhere together, somewhere far far away. He smiled at the thought of such happily spent time. Just him and Shippou. Perhaps Kagome could come along as well. He knew that Shippou would like her. I promise.Really promise? he asked.

he said with a laugh. I really promise.Crosses don't count! he said almost too sternly, to the point where it was almost comical, coming from such a little boys mouth.

But of course. he said.

he said with a look that said I think I'll trust you for now.'

I'll find something for us to do soon. he said, his lips brimming with a smile. He sat down on his bed and Shippou pounced upon his lap, curling up into a tiny ball on his legs.

Inu Yasha! he heard a scream from the kitchen. He placed Shippou on the bed, and walked out towards the kitchen. He saw the man hopping around the kitchen on one foot, holding the other one, while barely managing to keep his balance. It almost made him laugh.

he asked, awaiting demands.

What the -FUCK- do you think you're doing leaving pieces of glass on the floor, you half breed filth?I didn't put it there. he replied irritably. Watch where you step, you might hurt yourself. Not that I care.'

Well what in the hells does this look like? he held out his foot, covered in blood, the broken piece of bottle still stuck in the wound. Inu Yasha could have snickered to himself, had he not known that he would have probably cost him his life.

Ehh, what can you do? he sighed and turned to walk away.

He felt a large pan hit the back of his head and fell down to the floor, whimpering. You seem to be getting quite an attitude. he hissed vehemently. Never forget who owns you! he spat.

He still lay on the floor, rubbing the back of his head. That hurt. A lot. This would get interesting. Who OWNS me? he said though it was more a statement than a question. That was easy. I own myself. I think.' I do... I suppose. he said, more to himself than anyone else, still pressing his hand against the spot he had gotten hit.

WRONG ANSWER! he heard. Another blunt object connected with the back of his hand, sharply smacking his fingers away. He hissed, and got up, fighting the sharp pain that shot through his head at the moment. Cant show weakness. If I do, I only get hurt more.' he reminded himself. He stood in an awkward slouched position, his hand rubbing the back of his head.

What are you doing? That hurt. he said hollowly, as if he simply disregard that he just gotten hit in the head by a rather large frying pan, and a pretty sharp cheese grater. He could feel warm blood starting to trickle from his fingers.

So what now? It doesn't hurt any more? his father took a few steps toward him, his glare striking fear into the heart in his hanyou chest. Can't feel anymore Inu Yasha? What...? Too high and mighty for pain, huh? he spat. Inu Yasha could feel the beating before it happened. More pain, more suffering. Today wouldn't be a good one. He couldn't help but start shaking. Don't worry. he said. I'll change that. He laughed twistedly. Inu Yasha had hardly ever heard him laugh, and when he did, it usually boded ill to somebody. That somebody, usually being himself.

The man grabbed his arm.

Feel this.

He twisted his arm into a horrible position, and gave it one last crank so that he could feel his bones shifting inside his body. He hissed and spat, but the man didn't let go.

Do you feel it Inu Yasha? he said sickly. The pain? he asked. The boy whimpered, holding back his tears. Heh, thought so. The man let go and walked away, snorting. Don't forget what you are. he said. You are my son. You are my blood. he told him in a frighteningly soft voice.

he coughed out.

he asked, holding a hand to his ear.

I belong...to... you... He whimpered bitterly. He knew he shouldn't have said it. Regret followed those words faster than his tears. He cried, still whimpering in pain from his dislocated shoulder. To you... you... you... To... he repeated, sniffling in his urge to keep back his remaining tears.

Don't forget it. He turned away.

After a few moments in the kitchen he ran to his room and slumped to his bed, sobbing softly. Shippou, still in his cat form, walked up to him and rubbed against his arm. He recoiled at the hiss of pain he received from Inu Yasha. Through his blurry vision, he looked at his arm. It was twisted in a sick position that made him not even recognize that it was his own body he was looking at.

He knew what he had to do. However he was also well aware that it would hurt like hell. Gulping, he shakily grabbed his arm tight in his other hand. he said in a shaky voice. The tone frightened the cat demon.

Cover your ears.

Before Shippou had the chance to reply, Inu Yasha clamped his eyes shut and yanked his arm down, snapping it back into its original position. However the sound that came from him was so terrorized and shrill it sounded inhuman, frightening even. Throughout the entire household it rang, shrieking and screaming to expel the pain in his body. It continued for a moment as he released the enormous pain through his voice, well aware that he might have just gone and shattered all his vocal cords. But it hurt so much. It was unlike anything he had ever felt.

The hitting, the bruises, that he could deal with. Even when he bled, he could handle that. But this, this was beyond any pain. His scream resounded through out the house and faded into silence, in a slow dragged on manner as he crumpled into himself, curled into a tight ball, whimpering and crying from the intense pain.

Shippou reluctantly walked over to him, unsure of whether or not to approach him. He mewed in question of his well fair. Inu Yasha turned his head slightly to the kitten, eyes only open enough to barely see him, filled and overflowing with tears, that glistened in the ill lit room. Shippou noticed the boy's normally brilliant gold eyes were now dull, and brazen.

The silver haired youth bit his lower lip and tried, unsuccessfully, to smile. Shippou rubbed against his leg, trying to show his sympathy. He was, however, soon pushed away by Inu Yasha. Im sorry Shippou... he said breathlessly, his almost colorless eyes flickering open and closed in a desperate attempt to retain his consciousness, and fell down on his bed, fast asleep.

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Author Notes

It's my birthday today! I'm 15 today!

OOH! Our little hanyou sure has changed. Now Its important to notice his character in this chapter. I mean, this probably happened a couple weeks or so after the last chappy. Just look at his character! I mean, he fought back against his father. Note that, it is quite important. And the way his father whips him into shape, bends him to his liking.

Hence: Marionette Man. Anyone who understands the correlation between the title and the chapter gets a cookie. Chocolate chip anyone?

You have to realize the relationship between Inu and his dad, it helps to understand the story and the way he is now. However he is slowly changing, and you all can guess why. Thank the lord for blue eyed girls.

A question you might have: Why did he pass out? Mortifying pain has a tendency to make one lose ones conscienceness. He does that next chapter too. Only because I have to find a way to make him fall asleep on the bathroom floor.

Whoo! Im so happy, I feel so free! Ah the limits of writing are truly boundless. It's like you can live in the world you create, there is nothing quite like it. Yet all this freedom, I don't know what to do with it. ... Sigh. I better set the plot bunnies to work. Faster you stupid rabbits!

Next chapter: Broken Glass

(I swear I didn't steal that title from Sleepwalking Chickens story! . )

Reviews please! I don't usually do this, but I am feeling rather poo-ey and uninspired like so please spread butter on your reviews. I had an icky week! But it is my BIRTHDAY today! And my Alex friend is here! And I love her THIS much:opens arms: Okay, please review. Eat pocky!