Blanket Disclaimer: The writer does not own any characters created by Rumiko Takahashi but like everyone else wishes she did. All original characters or concepts are the author's Inuma Asahi De's (with the exception of historical figures).
Chapter Forty-Seven
The Aftermath
"So—."
Inuyasha groaned, the voice he had just barely heard actually causing his brain to throb with pain. "God—I've never—," He tried to open his eyes but was blinded by sunlight that only made his head pound even harder. "I feel like I was shot in the head." He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling almost drunk as his whole body responded by feeling as if it was swaying even though he was laying flat on his back. "Was I shot?" He wondered, trying to pull up any recollections of what had happened to him through his hazy mind, he came up short of any memories involving a shooting incident but the pain was a pretty good indication that something had in fact hit him in the head. "Probably just wacked the shit out of my head." He concluded as he tried to focus on his current situation, shifting slightly, so as to better feel the ground beneath him.
He was laying on something almost soft and moist, his clothes were wet sticking to his skin and his hair was damp, clinging to his face in clumps. He sniffed experimentally, the smell of salt assaulting his nose so strongly that it blocked out the smell of anything else that might give him a clue as to where he was. "Salt—water, the ocean?" He thought hazily as tried to scent the air again but just came back with more of the heavy salty smell. "I'm still by the ocean but—," He allowed his fingers to dig slightly into the ground. "Sand?" He realized as his hand sunk into the soft substrate. "A beach?" He tried to open his eyes but could only groan as his head protested the action.
"You awake yet," The earlier voice spoke again, it was so familiar, so very familiar. "Or just moaning in your sleep?"
"That voice?" He tried to focus on it, to focus on that familiarity. "I know that voice."
"You're some kind of tough guy, huh?" The voice snorted, the sound leading into a deep throaty chuckle as something that sounded like clothes rustling or the wind changing direction met Inuyasha's ears. "Always were, weren't you—at least that's what everybody said," The voice almost sounded like it was talking to itself, thoughtfully revisiting things long passed. "Personally, I thought you were just an idiot."
Inuyasha opened his eyes in response to the blunt tone only to close then tight as he felt a sharp stabbing sensation in his leg from attempting to sit up. "What did I do to my leg?" He wondered but couldn't find the will to open his eyes to see what was wrong, instead he took a deep breath, scenting the air for blood: it was hard to find underneath the overlying smell of salt but it was there, just faintly so, as if it was dried and not free flowing. "What happened?" He asked himself as he tried to put it all together: the pounding in his head that he couldn't explain, the haziness of his befuddled mind, the slight ringing in his ears, the smell of sand, blood and—
He scented the air again expecting to smell something foreign on the air, a scent that he wouldn't recognize, the scent that belonged to the voice that was talking to him but that voice had no scent, no scent at all that he could discern. "Aa—a?" He tried to speak as he opened his eyes forcing himself to focus and look, to see.
At first he was met with only a world of black and then it flooded with light leaving only traces of that blackness on the edges of his vision. He blinked until all the blackness had gone and then froze as he took in the sight of a man he hadn't seen in over sixty years. "Captain?" The word left his mouth as his eyes looked at the Welshman sitting on a piece of drift wood some five feet away from him.
He was tall, dark skinned from constant time spent in the sun, his hair greasy yet curly, a dark brown in color, but hard to see because it was hidden underneath a wide brimmed three cornered hat with a large flamboyant red feather stashed around the top, just as Inuyasha remembered. His clothes were standard to his trade, and yet flamboyant and memorable, bright red and almost showy, a rich fabric that Inuyasha knew all too well. He gulped, his hands somehow finding enough strength to move and finger the fabric of that very jacket resting on Inuyasha's very body. "Impossible," He moved his mouth to form the word but couldn't find the strength in his throat to speak. He shook slightly blinking over and over again in disbelief as he looked on at a ghost of the past.
Slowly, his eyes traveled down, trying to focus on something that was not so confusing to his almost drunken state. In the man's hands a sharp knife was put to use peeling an apple slowly, trying to get the skin to come off in one continuous motion instead of breaking into bits of peel—a game from Inuyasha's youth that he had introduced to the well-dressed Captain.
"Look at you," The man shook his head back and forth slowly, not making eye contact with Inuyasha as he continued to peel the apple. "You idiot." The man sighed heavily sounding greatly disappointed as he continued to peel the apple with his knife. "I know I taught you better." He mumbled as the peel finally fell to the ground, having been completely freed of the fruit it protected. The man studied the fruit for a moment, seeming to debate with himself the best way to eat it. After an instant he shrugged, gave up decorum and shoved his knife back in his boot before taking a large bit of the ripe fruit, the juices dribbling down his chin. "It's—dis'i'pointin' boy." He said around a mouthful of fruit.
Inuyasha cringed, his stomach turning at the sight, the sensation of water gurgling in his stomach hit him and he got the distinct feeling that he had swallowed far too much of it. "Wh—t?" The word barely left his mouth before he clamped it shut, bile rising in his throat.
"You should have trusted your instincts, boy," The man said as he bit into the apple again his bright bluish green eyes studying the fruit. He chewed slowly, thoughtfully, before he swallowed the lump of food, those dazzling eyes turning upwards to look out at something Inuyasha's eyes were still too blurry to see. "I thought I taught you better than that, I really did."
The older man, the human man, looked down at the apple again and shook his head before turning and finally looking Inuyasha full in the face. The demon boy winced and closed his eyes before opening them in complete and utter disbelief as he finally realized something heart stopping: he could see through the man, he could actually see the sky behind him, the white fluffy clouds, and the sea gulls riding the breeze.
"I may not be a demon boy," The older man's lips moved and when they did Inuyasha could see all the way through his mouth and out the other side of his head. "But even I know to trust my gut." He pointed at his stomach with the hand free of the apple. "If you would've trusted your gut you wouldn't be here right now."
Inuyasha tried to nod but his body was frozen to the point that he couldn't even blink.
"It's gon'na be a hard day for ya, hard week at that," The man said, the ghost of a smile on his translucent lips as he turned his eyes into the sun closing them as if to take in that warm radiance for just a moment. "That's how you like it though, isn't it?" Captain Roberts muttered as he opened his eyes and turned and looked at Inuyasha with true and deep affection. "You always were an idiot." He said as he palmed the browning produce in his hand and licked his lips before inclining his head forward towards the apple, offering up the half eaten fruit. "Want some?"
The dog demon promptly turned onto his stomach and heaved, the taste of salt water and stomach acid burning his mouth as he emptied the contents of his belly. With the last of his strength he pushed off on the sand and managed to drop his weight a few much needed inches away from the small pool of vomit. Laying on his back, eyes closed he gulped down much needed oxygen, the air just pushing into his lungs as he tried to calm his heart rate back down.
Several minutes passed and he heard nothing except the unmistakable sound of the ocean as it swelled onto the soft sand only to disappear back into the sea. "Captain?" He questioned softly as his mind started to go blank, he tried to open his eyes but the world came out blurry again. "I need," He tried to speak as thirst smoldered on his tongue. "Wa—." His whole brain went numb and he opened his eyes wide looking at the spot where his Captain had been. No one was there, not even the apple. "Am I hallucinating or was that really a ghost?" He wondered as his vision went black again. "Stay awake." He told himself but his brain was fuzzy and sleep sounded so good.
The faint resounding noise of footsteps managed to bring him back before he blacked out. Despite his dry throat, he had the good decency to growl a warning even as the vibration of his throat stung and the subsequent wince made his head split with pain. "Damn." He thought, his ears twitching, trying urgently to hear whatever was moving around him but the air was still, not even the wind moving anymore. Calming his breath, concentrating, he forced himself to hear what no other type of demon could ever hope to hear. His head pounded, his heart stilled in his chest, and he opened his eyes slowly, the sound of someone breathing—deep in his ears.
He groaned as the bright sunlight burned his pupils causing them to constrict painfully fast. With a moan he brought one hand up to try to touch the space right above his eyes; his fingers missed and instead padded over his cheeks and then lazily and uncoordinated moved lower brushing his bottom lip, one of his claws nicking the tender flesh in the process. He hissed and pulled back before trying to open his eyes again, he was met with sun, blue, and the unwelcomed return of the burning sensation in his retinas.
"Too bright." He grumbled and closed his eyes again as he rubbed his temple, a feeling of stickness, that tacky quality that blood has coating his fingers. "My head is killing me." He thought, not yet able to put together that he was bleeding from the head rather badly.
"Na-hna-tlv a-s-ga-yv!"
His ears perked on his head but his eyes didn't dare open again, the sound of breathing had turned into the sound of talking, a deep male voice, old and hoarse with age. "Is it a hallucination?" He wondered as the strange language played back in his head. "Yeah, I'm hallucinating, I'm hallucinating." Part of him wanted to laugh, the other part of him really wanted to throw up again.
"Ga-do ha-dv-ne-ha, a-do-da?"
His eyes popped opened stunned, someone, someone much younger had answered the weird old sounding hallucination. "What the hell?" He thought as he looked around his mind reeling, not because the hallucination was still ongoing but because he hadn't recognize the language the hallucinations were speaking in at all: a completely new sensation for him.
Suddenly, the brightness of the sun was blocked out and he was greeted with the sight of a man's face—a man with dark streaks and spots in his tan colored hair and dark glistening eyes, in line with ears that were on the side of his head sharp and pointed. "A demon?" Inuyasha felt panic surge in his heart and he tried to stand but found his body frozen, he couldn't move.
"O-si-yo," The man started to speak as he tilted his head to the side, a necklace of bone on his neck catching Inuyasha's attention. It was bone and feathers on a bare chest—a dark tanned chest—he was a native but he wasn't human. "Ga to de tsa' to a'?"
Inuyasha blinked, the older man was addressing him, that much he knew but he had no idea what the man was asking him, hell, he didn't even know what language the question was being asked in or where the hell he was or what the fuck was going on, "I'm just hallucinating again." He told himself but he knew that was a lie, unlike the image of Captain Roberts, this man was solid and his scent was sharp in Inuyasha's nose—this man was real and he was asking Inuyasha a question that he expected to be answered. "Aaa—," He drew out the noise and blinked the man nodded as if understanding and looked away from him off to the left.
"Tsa-la-gi s hi-wo-ni?" The man started to speak causing Inuyasha pause.
He furrowed his brow and looked towards the man's left as well his expression tight and confused. Another man was standing a few feet away and next to him was a sight he knew all too well, "Kagome!" He practically screamed as he scrambled to his feet so quickly that his head spun and he immediately fell back to the ground, groaning in immeasurable pain. "Fuck—," He moaned as pain shot up his side. "What the—dear lord." He winced as his leg seemed to catch on fire. "What did I do—why didn't I smell her—what the hell, when did I break my leg?" His mind was a jumble of thoughts, chaotic and incomprehensible.
He heard gibberish behind him and then felt a hand on his back. "You must be careful," The old raspy voice told him, soft and kind, understanding. "You are hurt badly both in leg and in head." The strong but old hand pushed him downward until he was sitting his legs sprawled out in front of him.
For a moment he focused on his leg, his eyes taking in the sight of horribly burned flesh and dried blood that was effectively gluing his ripped up pants to his skin. He gulped, the pain and stinging in the busted and blistered limb sizzling up his leg as if it was still on fire. Experimentally, he tried to move the extremity, only to see white behind his eyelids as his whole world almost blacked out.
"Careful!" The old man chastised as he reached for Inuyasha, lightly pressing down on the back of his neck with his thumb and pointer finger. Surprisingly, Inuyasha went limp at the contact, an old instinct from his very infancy causing his body to react by shutting down. "There now," The old man continued his voice gruff yet soothing. "Do not try to move."
"But—," Inuyasha weakly protested. "Kagome."
"No," The voice sounded wavy as if the old man was shaking his head as he spoke. "Woman is fine."
Vaguely, Inuyasha narrowed his eyebrows, just now realizing that the funny gibberish had dissipated into a language he knew all too well. "English?" He mumbled to himself as if the fact that he suddenly understood the old man was a thing of legends.
"Yes," The old man's voice sounded like he was smiling, like he was amused. "I speak your tongue," He chuckled before adding, "But I doubt you speak mine."
"Tongue?" Inuyasha grumbled confused but only shook the thought from his mind, forcing it to focus back on something far more important. Gulping down the ongoing swell of bile in his throat, he inhaled deeply and attempted to look back at where he thought Kagome was only to find that she wasn't there anymore. "Kagome?" He called desperately panic swelling in his heart because he couldn't find her. "Where's she?" He felt the terror rising in him consuming him.
"She is fine." The old man told him, his voice sounding supremely honest as he touched Inuyasha's shoulder reassuringly. "Whatever hurt you did not touch her."
"Hurt me?" Inuyasha mumbled and then his eyes widened as a faint memory tickled his very brain. A ship, there had been a ship and Kagome—something—something had happened, a cannonball had hit the Shikuro, no multiple cannon balls had hit them and there was something about a flag and trusting a barrier, trusting his mate. Inuyasha frowned, the memories growing so hazy that they fell back into nothing once again. "I—I don't, I can't—I can't rem—ber," He looked up at the man taking in the kind face of the demon before him.
"Tan hair—almost blond." He thought as he took in the man as if just seeing for the first time, or second. "Blacks spots and stripes—how odd." He wrinkled his nose as his eyes followed the strange flowing hair that ran down the back of the man's neck almost like a mane before it disappeared into dark skin almost gold in color not from being in the sun, but just naturally that strange dark crisp gold. Inuyasha blinked trying to recall any demon that looked like that but came up short. Raising his eyes back upwards, he focused on the old wrinkled face. "He's as old as Myoga." Inuyasha mused as he took in the strange outlined eyes, "Raccoon eyes," He thought as he took in the darkened rings around the man's dark orbs. "No, not quiet, they're too thin." He realized and automatically his nose smelled the air for help in his identification, the smell made him grimaced. "Ōyamaneko?"
The old man narrowed his eyes confused and turned his head towards his companion who merely shrugged. Slowly, he turned back around eyeing Inuyasha with a new found apprehension. "Pardon?"
Inuyasha frowned at the man's confusion, not yet registering that his words hadn't been English. "You're—," He whispered hazily as the English word floated through his mind but refused to correlate to his tongue. "Bob—neko."
"Bobcat you mean, yes, we are." The younger of the two men deduced and nodded his head thoughtfully. "And you're a common dog."
"Fucking flag." Inuyasha actually laughed, his concussion not allowing him to really think straight at the moment and realize the strange coincidence. Somewhere to his left, a soft moan rose into the air, a gentle girlish sound that made every hair on Inuyasha's body stand on end.
"Mate." The demon in him whispered for the first time since he had awoken.
Inuyasha smiled at the very thought, his mind accepting what the demon had said and as if on instinct he growled softly, the sound making the other men freeze. Even though they were different species and cultures, they were still from the same demon race and the word for 'mate' was virtually universal.
The younger bobcat male looked at the older, the two exchanging a look of complete silent conversation before the younger glanced back down at Inuyasha, his lips in an unreadable line. "Your mate is fine," The younger of the two bobcat's told him easily. "Common Dog."
"Close eyes," The older encouraged gently, his voice that of a father experienced with strong willed pups and their need to protect their mates. "When you wake, you be reunited."
Perhaps it was the undiagnosed severe concussion he had suffered, or maybe it was the bazaar visit from his ghostly past, or perhaps it was simply because the voice of the old man had reminded him of the voice of another old man from long ago. Whatever the reason was, Inuyasha felt himself obeying even against his will. "She'll be safe?" He asked as his eyes drooped, as his head spun, as his vision tinted once again with black.
"Yes," The old man reassured as he reached forward and gently ruffled Inuyasha's hair as if Inuyasha had been a son and not a stranger on a beach. "I give my word, she will be safe."
"I can trust you?" The dog demon muttered as his world started to sway again, the darkness overtaking his vision almost completely now, just one small pinpoint of light giving him any indication that he was still conscious.
"Trust is not something made easily on chance meetings," The man commented cryptically, his voice wise with years of knowledge and lessons learned. "But," He paused as if collecting his thoughts or amending his statements. "In this case, I think it's best."
Inuyasha blinked trying to force himself to stay awake just a few precious seconds longer. "If you hurt her," He said looking into the face of the old bobcat as firmly and coherently as he possibly could. "I'll kill you."
The old man smiled, his dark outlined eyes wrinkling with creases of age. "I would not doubt you." He nodded as he touched Inuyasha's forehead with just his fingertips, the gesture meant to be soothing. "Sleep, Common Dog," He whispered, his voice harmonious with the sound of the waves rising and falling from the beach. "Sleep."
And Inuyasha obeyed, closing his eyes as the tips of those fingers gently massaged his head with such skill that they easily wiped all memories and thoughts from his mind, their rhythmic motion eradicating the wakefulness of his brain until he found himself drifting away, his last and only thoughts of Kagome laying a few short feet away.
-break-
Naraku clutched both of his fists at his sides as he stared at the woman, not believing what she had just said in the least but knowing that if it was plausible or even remotely possible then it was a something he was going to have to believe—but was not yet prepared too. He sighed and closed his eyes tightly, "Can I trust it? Is it worth it?" He told himself with a shake of his head as all of her words and revelations ran amuck in his brain, taunting him, daring him to believe what he had never heard of before.
Truthfully, he didn't really understand the situation quite yet, he knew nothing of death spirits or the properties of their eyes, or if they could be used by a person not born with them. In fact, all he really knew for sure at the moment was that this woman was a wind demon with a haughty and downright annoying disposition that made him want to strangle her slowly with his bare hands. In short, Naraku Morgan was out of his element which pissed him off just as much if not more than the smirk on the wind demons lips.
Growling darkly, he narrowed his eyes before glancing over at Hiten, taking in the older man's appearance. Hiten was standing tall, if not a little tilted to the side, gazing at the wind demon with eyes knowledgeable yet still questioning. "Do you know?" Naraku thought to himself as he looked back at the wind demon and grimaced. "If she's telling the truth, Hiten?" His subconscious mind's voice sounded like a scream, one so loud that it was almost as if he was trying to make Hiten hear his own thoughts. "Do these death spirits exist?" He bit his lip and turned his glance back to Hiten, his eyes fixed on the older man who was still leaning back against the wall looking not the least bit confused now. "Damn it!" He gritted his teeth so hard that one of the molars actually chipped from the pressure.
The sound of the tooth breaking off permeated the room causing both the wind demon and Hiten to actually flinch slightly. The sight of the woman's faint wince turning into a narrow and brief frown giving Naraku pause. "She flinched?" The thought taunted his brain as he rubbed his tongue against the now broken tooth before swallowing the fragment left behind without preamble.
This was the first time, since the start of the conversation, that the demon woman had even remotely lost her composer (that he was aware of and could actually see for himself anyway). A slow smile formed on Naraku's lips as somewhere deep in his psyche, confidence began to bud once again like a small black rose whose large thorns were already coated in the dried blood of a maiden's hands.
"I'll see if you're lying little girl." He almost said the words out loud but instead merely purred his delight, the sound low and long in his throat as he turned back to the woman, hatred forming in his eyes as he took in her appearance. She was gauging him with those ruby eyes again, giving him a look of deep contemplation that soon turned back into her characteristic smirk but this time—Naraku easily ignored it. "Smirk all you want woman," He clicked his tongue. "After all, it will be easy enough to test those eyes and if you're lying—," The thought trailed off sickeningly in his brain as a grin of his own dark, sick and sinister filled his face.
The wind demon felt an uneasy shiver go up and down her spin as she took in the look on his face, "What is he up too?" She wondered briefly as she watched Naraku take a slow step forward, his eyes lighting up with a bright, red hot fire of black coal. Involuntarily, she shuddered and leaned away from him slightly narrowing her eyes to pinpoints as if to threaten silently.
Naraku tapped his chin with one white hand in response as he slowly, tauntingly ran his tongue over his front two teeth, then the four at the bottom, then his upper lip, and then leisurely the bottom one before closing his mouth and sucking his lips into a tight thin line.
"Dear girl," He whispered softly. "In all the commotion," His voice was laced with something so deathly sweet that it actually made the air in the room grow heavier with its malice. "I just realized that I have been rather—shall we say rude," He offered with a slight tilt of his hand beside his head. "And have forgotten to give you my name." He bowed just ever so slightly at his words. "I do apologize for my brashness," He placed one hand to his breast expertly while looking her directly in the eye. "My name is Naraku Morgan, Master of this vessel and, if I might be so bold as to ask," He smiled showing off the perfect teeth of a man who had been born into the highest class. "For your name?"
She gulped slowly, her mind racing as she tried to figure out what Naraku's obvious new angle was. She hadn't been expecting him to respond to her taunting with such a, well, mature response. He was supposed to be so angry and out of control that he was unable to control himself when properly provoked, and yet, here he was in complete control once again, every metaphorical feather perfectly back in its place. She glanced at the man behind him, the demon called Hiten, her eyes looking at his face taking in his own mild signs of confusion. Her eyes narrowed further knowing that if the other man in the room was confused—then something was truly wrong. Her skin prickled, tiny goose bumps forming on her flesh as her instincts started to take over.
"Should I tell-u Naraku my name?" She asked herself as she pursed her lips darkly. It was common knowledge in the demon world that there were those of their race that could in fact enchant someone with simply the person's name but Naraku did not belong to one of those groups of demons, he was only a common weasel and nothing more. "I've never heard-o of a weasel having that kind of power-u." She told herself but the strange foreboding feeling that was settling in the pit of her stomach told her that there was something wrong with this whole scenario. "What choice do I have though?" She told herself as she watched him closely. "And what-to harm could Naraku knowing really do? If Naraku can't enchant-to me with my name then there's no problem-u, is there?" She finally nodded coming to the conclusion that it shouldn't do any harm. "Kagura."
Hiten cocked an eyebrow, "What a strange name." He told himself as he eyed the rather bizarre girl, his eyes traveling to her dress still crumpled on the ground. "And strange clothes and that accent." He looked back up at her with his eyebrow stilled raised as he took in the peculiar way she was sitting on her knees. "And a strange way to sit, that must be uncomfortable." He concluded before turning his attention towards Naraku once again as the younger demon began to speak.
"Kagura?" Naraku repeated her name once again with a dry laugh. "Is that your name or did you sneeze?"
Kagura frowned darkly, the red rubies that made up her vision, growing darker as she clutched her fist. With a deep breath, the smile came back, however, and she leaned backwards on her hands from her strange position on her knees. "I hope it-to does not offend yuu." She spoke primly, adding only after a brief pause. "Good sir."
Naraku laughed loudly, causing Kagura's eyes to widen and Hiten to actually stumble slightly backwards. "Aw, good woman," Naraku mocked after a moment causing Kagura to frown darkly. "You've had a rather long and difficult evening, have you not?" He spoke, his voice almost gentile.
Still unable to discern his angle, Kagura merely nodded and smiled back at him sweetly. "It-to has been rather—long-u and tremendously—difficult-o."
Naraku gave her a pitying look before turning towards Hiten snapping his fingers as if the man was a servant and not a Captain. "Hiten," He spoke with an airy quality that was absolutely horrifying coming from his lips.
"Aye sir?" The full demon behind him responded quickly, pushing himself away from the wall to study his master with a light frown. He, just like Kagura, was unable to discern what was happening within Naraku's mind at the moment. "Is he going mad?" He briefly thought, taking in the evidence for it as he watched Naraku give him a loop sided, almost childish grin as the younger man motioned towards the woman. "Okay—," He thought as a dark chill ran though his body at the sight. "That ain't right."
"Take this lovely lady." Naraku spoke, his voice practically dripping with sugar as he leisurely, frighteningly turned and looked at Kagura that sickeningly sweet dark sinister smile he had worn not moments before coming back to his face. "And introduce her to Miss Cummings."
Hiten blinked rapidly in surprise just as the wind enchantress let out a small and almost unheard gasp, as if she too had not been expecting this turn of events. Hiten eyed her at the sound, but her face betrayed no signs of surprise only a haughty grin and an intimidating stare. "Did she—I thought." He shook his head and let the thought slide, most likely it had been his imagination at work and the woman had in fact not uttered anything.
Recovering from his thoughts quickly, Hiten nodded his head towards Naraku as he directed a small wave of the hand towards the woman still sitting on the bed. "Let's go girl." He told her sternly, giving her a look that said she needed to stand and stand now.
Kagura nodded in response, catching his eye, conveying the message, "What's-u wrong with Naraku?" With her blood colored irises.
Hiten ignored the look, knowing better than to say or even convey a message when Naraku was in the room. The man—well boy—saw things, he had a knack for paranoia that would match even a childless widow in the middle of a war zone. Moving away from her, he started for the door, grunting in her direction so she would get the idea and follow him. "We need to get the hell out of this room." He told himself, as he just barely glanced at Naraku who was situating himself at the desk now, sitting comfortably in one of the chairs, his feet crossed in such a way that he looked more like a woman than the master of a ship. "How deceiving." Hiten thought to himself, well aware that Naraku was more dangerous than any man he had ever met. "That baby face—," He told himself with a blunt shake of his head. "Don't trust that baby face."
Behind him, Kagura stood to her feet slowly slipping the dainty appendages downwards to met the ground nearly silently, her eyes studying Hiten's back as he reached for the door, his hand almost on the handle only to freeze as Naraku's commanding voice entered both of their ears.
"Mr. Hiten?"
Said man's heart beat quickened, "So close." He gulped as he realized that escape was on the verge of being taken from him. Steadying himself, he turned and looked behind him making eye contact with the man comfortably sitting in his desk chair as if he were a king. "Yes ser?"
Naraku idly touched the wood of the desk, his hands brushing up against a map that was laid out, the chart for their current position. "I could really use you here at the moment." He clicked his tongue and released a tired sigh, as if the whole scenario was boring him. "Get Mr. Dresmont to do the dirty work." He told him as he moved his hands off the table and instead leaned back in the chair, propping his boots up on the solid oak. "Would you?" He added before turning his dark eyes towards Hiten giving him a look that only the devil should have been able to give.
"Don't trust that baby face." Hiten told himself with another large, nearly audible gulp. Knowing better than to disobey, he hastily turned back towards the door opening it with a rough calloused hand before he called out across the whole of the Thunder with a set of very powerful lungs, "Mr. Dresmont!"
Instantly from seemingly nowhere, Richard Dresmont appeared in the small hallway, hurriedly making his way towards Captain Hiten who winced at the malnourished sight. Mr. Dresmont's once fattened body from his somewhat aristocratic life now appeared unable to even hold his clothes up: the fabric of his pants hanging low on his waist and tied by a slip of leather because his traditional and well crafted belt was far too large to actually be used by the slimming man anymore. His jacket was no better, for where he had once filled out the jacket nicely, he now could barely keep it on his presently drooping shoulders.
"You needed me Captain?" He asked when he came to stand in front of Hiten, raising his head upwards to reveal his hollowing cheeks and the dark circles that ringed underneath his eyes.
"Yes, take this—um—," He hesitated, looking over his shoulder to see that Naraku was still sitting on the chair feet propped up and eyes closed before turning his attention to Kagura who was watching him expectantly. "Woman," He decided on upon noticing her twinging frown, no need to have two people with unpredictable fuses on the ship at the moment. "And put her in with the old woman?"
Mr. Dresmont, honestly, looked surprised at the order but nevertheless responded with a crisp. "Aye, Captain." Before motioning towards the woman, still dressed quite inappropriately in Hiten's shirt and her strange slip like under-dress, blushing slightly at the sight Mr. Dresmont's hands made a large sweeping gesture towards the door. "Please come with me Miss." He addressed formally.
Hiten worried his lip at the decorum in the man's voice. "There's no way he'll be able to get her in the cell if she doesn't want to go." He realized easily as he watched them start to leave, his feet moving to catch up with them with a will of their own. "Mr. Ricker," He called out his booming voice easily heard. "Help him with 'er."
"I'm on 'er, sir!" Came the response of a man from somewhere out on deck.
Mr. Dresmont turned towards Hiten giving his thanks by way of a nod before the two disappeared, the woman not even saying a word of protest—only moving along quietly—, "And that's what worries me." Hiten muttered internally with a snort as he turned back into the cabin, his mind focusing on the present, focusing on Naraku Morgan.
Easily and quietly, he closed the door as he stepped back into the cabin fully, his eyes fixated on Naraku who was still sitting in the desk chair not four feet away from him. Uneasily, Hiten leaned against the wall of his cabin, his instincts telling him now was not the time to turn his back on the younger, pretty much unstable demon who was gingerly tapping a finger against the wood, his eyes staring into the nothingness of the desk's varnished surface, his lips drawn in a tight line as he inhaled deeply before exhaling loudly back out through his nose.
"She's interesting," The young man spoke, his eyes practically glaring into the surface of the desk. "What—," He started as he turned those terrifying eyes towards Hiten. "Do you think of her story, of the death spirits?"
Hiten cleared his throat, he had wondered if a demon so young might know of such things. "Only what I heard as a boy in Spain."
"Spain?"
"Yes," He confirmed slowly as he eyed the man wearily. "I was born in Spain, my grandfather told me stories of the death spirits."
"I see," Naraku nodded, accepting the information gracefully. "You don't have much of an accent for someone born in Spain."
"My grandfather was a scholar." Hiten responded vaguely, hoping to phrase his words just right. "He spoke English and a few other languages and he forced me to learn young so I wouldn't speak with an accent as an adult."
"What kind of stories did your grandfather tell you?" Naraku ignored the freely given information, deeming it too trivial to even bother putting to memory.
"Um—well, a—," He struggled slightly. "He told me that they are spirits that are different from us." Hiten strained his memory, being almost eight hundred years old it was hard to remember something that had happened so very long ago when he had been but a tiny child. "They kind of have demon powers but they aren't demons or humans—they're something else all together." He scratched the back of his head as the fuzzy memory flaunted itself at the back of his mind. "They pray on us—humans, demons—they use their eyes to find people who are dying and when the person actually dies." He paused his voice growing quiet, melancholy. "The death spirit comes and takes their soul." He looked away from Naraku at the ground, briefly thinking of his grandfather, briefly wondering if the old man had seen a death spirit when he had died.
Naraku cleared his throat loudly, pushing his feet off the desk and slamming them into the ground, the sound startling Hiten out of his memories of an old man who smelled of tobacco and dusty books.
"Yes—well," Hiten grumbled darkly, crossing his arms over his chest haughtily as he come completely back to himself, ignoring the weak memories of youth. "That's what my grandfather told me."
"Hmm," Naraku hummed intriguingly. "So these so called death spirit's eyes, find dying people?"
"Yes." Hiten agreed.
"If they can do that—," Naraku leaned his head back in thought, staring at the ceiling. "Might they be able to find the Shikon fragments as well?"
Hiten really wasn't sure if Naraku was talking to him or to himself but chose to voice his opinion anyway. "It's possible, assuming she actually has a death spirit's eyes."
Naraku gave him a sideways frown that quickly turned into a full-fledged smirk. "Well, we could guess on it all day." He told Hiten as he stood up and stretched slightly, his coat straining as his arms raised above his head and his back popped. "Or," He posed the question as he lowered his arms back to his sides. "We could give her a test."
-break-
Inuyasha inhaled deeply, his eyes opening slightly as he came back into wakefulness once more. No light met his eyes this time but he still winced, closing them with a groan as a sharp pounding immediately started in his head. "Where am I?" He wondered vaguely, his mind racing trying to remember what had happened but coming up short.
He strained, trying to access some forgotten memory, trying to dig up anything that might give him some sort of clue. Suddenly, there was a flash behind his eyelids, thousands of pictures and memories assaulting him. The sun bright above his head, the sound of ebbing tides, white clouds, a man sitting on drift wood, his Captain, an apple, a knife, sand underneath his finger tips, the smell of the ocean, gibberish he didn't understand, footsteps, the face of an old man, a bobcat, neko he had called it, hands on the back of his neck, comforting words floating around his head, the smell of Irish lilies—
Inuyasha's eyes snapped opened fully the image of something unknown yet beautiful striking him to the very core. His eyes dilated to see around him, the sight causing him to pause, the memory of that beauty fading, making way for confusion. "Mud?" He realized first as he stared at the walls that housed him: they were circular, made from sticks and mud that formed primitive but highly affective bricks. His eyes traveled upwards, widening as he recognized the familiar hay made thatching that was very similar to the roofs he had known as a boy.
His eyes traveled downwards after a moment of intrigue, taking in the low shelves, the small baskets made from reeds woven together, bowls that looked to be made from turtle shells, and cups that appeared to be carved from hallowed sugar cane. He blinked, confused, his hands went limp brushing up against something soft, startling him. He had half expected to feel sand, sand like his last memories of the beach but this was no sand. He glanced down taking in the soft black fur, without even needing to scent it he knew it was the fur of a panther.
Sluggishly, still dazed, he reached with the tips of his fingers and felt the soft pelt. Being careful to mind his claws, he took in the delicious texture and after a moment pressed down on it curiosity making him wonder if this was a mattress and filled with baby soft feathers or something else entirely. He furrowed his brow as he pushed his hand down, it was soft and yielding like a typical mattress and yet hard as well. His ears twitched as the sound of something with a husk, like you might find on corn stocks, rubbed against each other. He tilted his head to the side in wonder and pulled the corner of the pelt upwards to see the contents of the 'mattress' his eyebrows raising in surprise as they lit upon a plant like substance.
Subconsciously, he inhaled, his nose picking up the smell of cane, sugar cane and a simultaneously a fire—cedar wood burning by the texture of the smoke. He sniffed again, the sniff turning into a sniffle and then a sneeze as the strong smell of green wood burning reached him. "Uggg." He moaned as he tried desperately to hold the onslaught of sneezes at bay, his head feeling as if it was being ripped apart with each jarring motion.
"You are awake, Common Dog?"
Inuyasha's head snapped to the small covered entrance of the hut that was now being held opened by an old man who he recognized. "You?" Inuyasha whispered, words attempting to form on his tongue but unable to really take shape. "Who—," He swallowed hard, his throat unbelievably dry.
"I am Onaconah, Common Dog—," The man smiled, the wrinkles around his eyes becoming more predominant as light flooded in behind him from the very fire he had smelt. "You remember, my son and I found you on beach." He pointed a finger in what appeared to be only a random direction to Inuyasha but probably meant something to the old man.
Inuyasha licked his lips, their chapped texture causing him to wince. The old man seemed to realize it and moved further into the hut, going over to one of the low shelves, picking up one of the small turtle shell bowls before dunking it into what appeared to be a jug of something. The sound of water being disturbed and then pulled upwards, soft pads of it trickling back down into the barrel, filled Inuyasha ears and he felt his throat tighten with the need to quench his thirst.
The man, Onaconah, made his way across the room, kneeling next to the mattress made from sugar cane stocks and panther pelts, his old wrinkled hands holding the turtle bowl to Inuyasha's lips.
Pride made Inuyasha push backwards away from the old man in favor of reaching with a surprisingly shaky hand in order to take it and drink under his own power. His hand never made it to the bowl, however, and he cussed loudly as he had to lower the shaky appendage back down to the makeshift bed, unable to hold it up for more than a few seconds. The old man patiently held the bowl, his old dark eyes flashing with a predatorial gleam as the light from outside hit them just right.
With a deep and collecting breath, Inuyasha reached for the bowl again, his shaking hands somewhat under control but still moving so badly that he wouldn't be able to hold the bowl steady long enough to bring it to his lips and drink. "Fuck." He ground out, hating the feeling of being this weak as he dropped his hand back down to the bed, anger building in him.
With the wisdom of one who has raised many pups, the old man reached down taking Inuyasha's hand (much to the younger man's surprise) and placing it on the bowl, using his own to help steady it. Together, with Onaconah's hand on one side and Inuyasha's on the other, they raised the turtle shell together and Inuyasha drank, almost under his own power.
The dog demon savored the feel of the liquid down his tight throat and sighed almost dreamily as the feeling of being completely dehydrated started to dwindle with each gulp. Almost as soon as the feeling had taken hold of him, it dissipated as did the water and Inuyasha lowered his hand away from the bowl, allowing the Indian man to take it back into his lone control.
Onaconah set the bowl down beside the bed with his old hands and set moved to sit, crossing his legs and leaning back on his hands as he studied the younger man. "You remember?" He asked bluntly, that certain bluntness that comes with having lived for a very long time. "The beach, you remember?"
Inuyasha ran his tongue around his mouth, feeling out the water he had just drank, his mind still so focused on the soothing quality of it that he really didn't want to take the time to consider the man's question. After a few seconds of relaxation, however, his mind with a will of its own slowly went back to that beach, the memories washing over him once again.
"You awake yet," The earlier voice spoke again, it was so familiar, so very familiar. "Or just moaning in your sleep?"
"Was that real?" He wondered but he knew it hadn't been, after all Captain Roberts had appeared to him transparent and he knew of no human or demon that was transparent—invisible yes—transparent no. "So I hallucinated and then—," The image of a woman, just out of sight, her white hand on the brownish sand, laying with her fingertips pointed up and curved as if she had been clutching something but could no longer hold onto it and so had let go. His mind tried to place the image, it was an important one, one he should know and yet it escaped him. "Who?" He wondered as his mind eye began to paint a familiar image.
He could see: a smile made with rosy lips tinted the color of spring sakura, tan skin brushed by dark midnight hair that just barely reached red cheek bones high and round. He smiled despite himself, a feeling welling in his heart that he couldn't tame, he closed his eyes and there projected on his eyelids that figure formed more thoroughly.
He could see her: she was smiling at him, her chin tilted upwards, the sun kissing her face, her eyes closed tight with pleasure, her hands tucked behind her hour glass figure, a slight curl from her black hair ruffling an imagined wind against the tan color of her beautiful neck marked by his fangs in. He stared at her, at the image on the back of his eyelids, his heart stopping dead in his chest as the sun stopped hitting her face, darkening her tan skin further. She brought a hand up to her right cheek, catching a stray hair, her eyes opening as she caught it between her fore and pointer fingers moving it behind her ear leisurely.
He inhaled sharply as that grey storm met him head on after she had place that unruly hair. Beautiful, grey eyes, filled to the brim with every emotion he had ever known to exist present, swirling between black and white. It was a storm he would never misidentify. "Kagome!" His eyes snapped opened as he moved without preamble swinging his legs out to the side of the 'mattress' and attempting to stand, only to hiss as his foot came in contact with the ground, pain shooting up through his leg. "Shi—fu—god—damn it!" He cursed loudly as his body fell backwards much to his surprise.
With almost divine speed the old man was at his side instantly, grabbing hold of his arm and lowering him back down on the soft panther pelt. "Be careful, Common Dog." He said as he forced Inuyasha to lay back down with a firm hand. "Your leg is badly damaged."
Inuyasha gritted his teeth as the pain built in his leg, the sensation reminding him of the one time in his life he had had boiling water dumped on him, only this was worse. "What the fuck?" He ground out as he threw his head back onto the makeshift pillow of animal pelts and hissed. "Was I shot?" He wondered out loud but knew from experience that a bullet wound didn't hurt this bad.
"By the smell of wounds," The old man told him as he picked up the turtle shell bowl and moved back to the jug, filling it once again with water before collecting a rag in his other hand. "We figured cannon, not gun."
"Cannon?" Inuyasha repeated the word momentarily confused as he allowed himself to be laid back down like a small pup as the man set the bowl of water on the ground, dipping the clothe in it before ringing it out the excess water.
"Yes," The man nodded, skilled hands going to work on the horrid burn that was peeping out from Inuyasha's pants leg. "Even with demon blood, this wound could kill." He told the younger man firmly as he laid the cooling cloth down on the singed flesh.
Inuyasha winced before relaxing as the dampened cloth soothed his searing tissue, his throat making an almost embarrassing noise that was somewhere between a full out moan and a sigh. After a moment, the old Indian removed the cloth, dipping it back in the water before ringing it out once again, the evidence of blood coloring the water just slightly.
"It is a bad wound." Onaconah commented as he brought the cloth back towards Inuyasha, this time going for his head instead of the leg. Inuyasha squeezed his eyes shut tightly as the rag came in contact with an unknown injury to his head, the old man dabbing at it slightly as he hummed darkly. "This one not much better than leg."
"I've had worse." Inuyasha mumbled back his eyes closing sluggishly as he felt such great relief from the small gesture of the rag, the sensation numbing his mind causing him to once again to let the thought of Kagome slip away, disappearing into the back of his throbbing concussion ridden head.
The old man chuckled, "Have not we all, Common Dog." He said bringing the rag away and back into the bowl rinsing it out once again, the amount of watery blood increasing.
Inuyasha found himself smiling at the nickname but he wasn't really sure why. "How long was I asleep?"
"Not long," The old man told him with a shrug as he brought the rag back to his head once again. "Not even full day." He frowned, licking his lips as he saw something that Inuyasha couldn't without the use of a mirror. "I found you on beach only just before dusk." He continued as if nothing was out of the ordinary. "You had washed up on shore. We thought you might come from ship that was attacked."
Like a flood of water dumped over his head, chilling him to the bone, Inuyasha went stone cold while his heart stopped dead. Every memory of the past twenty-four hours hit him hard: the ship in the distance, the bobcat on the sail, the cannons, the barrier, the hit to his room that had taken out part of the backside of the ship, the second hit that had hit him as he scrambled to get to Kagome, the pain in his leg as they flew the air, the pain in his head as it slammed into the side of the ship almost knocking him unconscious as he cradled Kagome to his chest right before they hit the water.
He remembered resurfacing only seconds later, gasping for air, taking in Kagome's closed eyes with panic before turning to see ship in chaos as the current began to yank them away. He remembered the haunting realization that his world was slowly going black and that he wouldn't be able to hang onto consciousness much longer, the sight of a board floating just within his reach, swimming with one arm to reach it, grabbing for it desperately, pulling them onto it and then—black.
Inuyasha shook violently, his pupils dilating as every worst case scenario entered his mind. "Miroku." His heart clenched, had Miroku escaped, was his son okay? "Sango—," His whole body trembled violently, he remembered pushing her out of the room, Shippo in her protective arms. "Kagome," Her name left his lips in his shock, she had been with him, she was there in his arms. His head snapped upwards his ears and nose working overtime as he tried to find her, she should be with him—she was on the beach, he remembered her on the beach, she should be here, where was she? "Kag—o—m!" He tried to scream but his throat protested violently and he was thrown into a coughing fit that actually made his vision go black as pain went through his head and leg.
"Now now," Onaconah's voice seemed very far away as he protested Inuyasha's actions. "Calm, you can do nothing now—you need rest."
"But—," He tried to speak as his vision slightly cleared, his coughing ceasing, his jumbled mind racing. "My pup—," He breathed out not hearing the man's surprised squeak. "Kagome." He started to cough again, his vision once again blanking as the pain overtook him momentarily.
"Common Dog!" Onaconah cried out as he hastily reached for the bowl of water he had been using dumping it on the ground before stretching himself across the hut so he could dunk it back in the jug. "Drink." He commanded the still coughing Inuyasha who obliged, this time not letting his pride even dare present itself.
Greedily he drank, swallowing in large gulps, dribbles running over his chin as the bowl was tilted to its maximum height, straight up and down. Head pulled back to the point that the base of his skull was nearly touching his back he finished the water, the old man moving it away and reaching once again to get more.
"You said," Inuyasha panted as he inhaled the air, this time not coughing from the effort but still wincing as his head throbbed. "You saw a ship, my ship?"
The old man's eyes grew serious at the mention of the ship, his hands pausing for a second in the water before moving once again as if some silent decision had been made. "You rest." He ordered, moving back towards the sleeping pallet.
"No." Inuyasha responded quickly, glaring at the man. "You saw a ship, you know what happened to it—tell me!"
"You need not worry."
"Fuck that shit!" Inuyasha tried to scream but his voice came out as no more than a rasp. "It was under attack, wasn't it? I have to get back—I have to."
"Sleep," The old man administered softly, one of his hands pushing Inuyasha back down easily. "You have to sleep."
"No," Inuyasha pressed but his vision was going black again with his effort to stay angry. He blinked several times but it got no better and on top of it, his mind was going fuzzy once again. He felt drunk, the world moving slowly, little flashes of blurry pictures making their way from his eyes to his brain. "I'm the Captain," He said but he wasn't sure if his effort had actually sounded like words to the man before him or just gibberish. "What will they do?" He pressed on, questioning, his voice sounding small and meek as he started to feel really dizzy and sick. "Without me?" He groaned at the end of his words, bringing his hand up to his face, blinking rapidly when he realized it looked like there were five hands in front of him instead of one. "Shit," He whispered, he was useless like this, absolutely useless. "I've failed—," He realized as he let his hand fall over his eyes. "Captain Robert's is right, I should'a—I should'a trusted my gut, I'm such an idiot."
"Common Dog," The old man said but didn't say anything further on the subject as he watched the very hurt young man before him groan with the pain of both his knowledge and his injuries. "I will call doctor now and mate."
"Mate?" Inuyasha scrunched up his nose at the word. "Kagome? You mean Kagome?" He whispered as if just now realizing that his befuddled mind had once again lost track of his own thoughts. "Where?"
"With women," He responded casually, glad that the thought of the boy's mate was distracting him from further hurting himself by thrashing around. "They take good care of her—she worry till sick."
Inuyasha jolted alarmed for a second but then noticed the smile on the old man's lips. "She's okay." He deduced, a feeling a happiness hitting him for just a solitary second before his plight weighed on him heavily once again, the happiness dissolving as his heart dropped into his stomach. "She's okay," He told himself as he allowed himself to relax just by a fraction closing his eyes. "I managed to protect her but what about," He gulped completely unable to imagine anything but a good outcome. " Miroku's smart," He felt like he was lying to himself in a way. "He'll make it out, he's like me, he always does." Perhaps it was delusional, or maybe it was just necessity: a form of self protection that Inuyasha desperately needed in order to keep himself from going insane with worry. "And he'd never let anything happen to Sango or the kit, that's for sure."
Onaconah moved to the door of the hut, pulling back the reed mat just enough to stick his head outside, "Ha-tlv, di-da-nv-wi-s-gi a-le na a-ge-yu-tsa?" He called out before turning back towards Inuyasha, his eyes watching the younger man with stern yet gentle focus. "The doctor will come soon." He told Inuyasha as he crossed the room and set down cross legged once more.
Before Inuyasha was even able to say anything, the reed mat pulled back again and he slowly turned his head towards it, only to gasp as his eyes caught sight of Kagome Dresmont. Her short hair had been adorned with feathers and jewels the likes of which he had never seen. Her male clothes had been exchanged in favor of a doe skin one piece dress that hovered at her knees so high that it was bordering on the point of burlesque as the fringed hem line toyed with the knobs of her till now unknown knees. Her boots had also been changed in favor of strange soft looking shoes made out of what seemed to be the same material as the tan, fringe covered dress.
"Inuyasha!" She exclaimed, her naturally pink lips parting as she hurried inside her grey eyes staring at him in wonder as she fell down to those exposed knees by his side, completely ignoring Onaconah in favor of staring at the now conscious man. "Are you okay?" She asked quickly, her loud voice causing Inuyasha's head to split despite his own happiness at seeing her alive and well. "How are you feeling?"
He thought to answer her but found he didn't have the will, so instead he just reached a shaky hand forward and touched a small ringlet of her hair with one shaking finger making her blush. "You're safe." He whispered at the sight of her startled stormy eyes, his heartbeat finally slowing, the dizziness, the panic, the pain and the fatigue kicking in once again, "She's safe." The thought seemed to dance around every corner of his mind, his anxiety and worry completely dissipating at the very sight of her, his adrenaline ebbing against his very will. "Thank god she's safe." It was whispered against the very edge of his conscious brain as all other thoughts left him.
Thoughts of the Shikuro, of the pain in his limbs and head, thoughts of his son whom he knew had to be—whom he knew was—okay, thoughts of Sango and Shippo safe where ever Miroku had managed to go, thoughts of his crew most likely being integrated onto a new ship or currently washed up on shore, thoughts of Captain Roberts, of Myoga, of Totosai, of everything; all of these thoughts drifted away and before he could stop himself, his eyes rolled back in his head and he was once again unconscious.
"Inuyasha?" Kagome gasped at the sight, reaching for him and touching gentle fingers to the side of his cheek without hesitation as she tried to make him open his eyes once again. "Is he okay, Onaco—nn—nah?" Kagome asked, her untrained lips stumbling over the name she had only just recently learned.
"He fine," The much older man assured as he watched the doctor enter the hut momentarily before turning back to Kagome. "This doctor know both our medicine and your western medicine. He will be able to help in many ways, Storm Eyes."
Kagome smiled at what she had presumed was her new nickname. "Are you sure?" She asked, eyeing the doctor who was just now kneeling before Inuyasha, lowering a strange bag made of reeds down to the ground, reaching inside of it to pull out a series of strange equipment she had never before seen.
The old doctor mumbled to himself in a language Kagome could not understand, as he reached for Inuyasha, putting a hand on the dog demons head and frowning before he motioned to Onaconah asking for something called, "Ama."
Onaconah complied, grabbing the turtle shell and moving to the jug he had used earlier. Hastily, he dipped the shell inside pulling out the desired water and passing it to the doctor who nodded approvingly as he took out a strange mixture of herbs and ground up looking powders. He mixed the concoctions in the water easily and tilting Inuyasha's head up allowed the boy to drink, motioning to Onaconah to rub the man's throat to make it easier for him to swallow.
Once all of the medicine was consumed he lowered Inuyasha back down, replacing the bowl in his hands with something that looked like a hallowed out stick. He stared at it for a moment before deciding against using it (or at least that's what seemed to be going on from Kagome's perspective) and reaching into his bag pulled out a small wooden bowl like container, reaching in it and covering his hands in a dark colored goo that with skilled old hands he began working into the torn flesh, rubbing the premade ointment like substance into the singed skin in small circular almost massage like motions.
Once all of the goo from his fingers had been massaged in, he once again reached into the bag coming back this time with leaves that he easily applied like one might cotton bandages. Once done he set back, glancing over Inuyasha straightforwardly his face actually looking less stern now and more reassuring. "Common Dog," He spoke the name but it sounded like he had no idea truly what he was saying as he indicated Inuyasha with a wave of his hand, "U-la-ni-gi-da," He paused and took a deep breath. "E: ka-nv-wo-di ga-yo-li hi-lv-s-gi-i-ga."
"The doctor says," Onaconah spoke once the old man was done. "He is strong, the wound will heal in few days."
"I know he's strong," Kagome whispered as her lip trembled her eyes washing with tears of concern that didn't quite fall. "But his leg—," She glanced at the torn flesh, even with the glistening of the ointment it still looked raw and angry, a far worse sight than what now mocked the memory of the itty bitty insignificant gunshot the Captain had received when they were on shore with Jinenji. "It looks like—he was left in a fire or shot by twenty guns."
"Yes," Onaconah agreed and reached for her, gently pulling her up into a standing position before moving her a little ways away from the now once again working doctor. "It look bad but demon blood will take care of that."
Kagome bit her lip, part of her wondering if the fact he had both human and demon blood was going to change his ability to heal from this supposedly none fatal wound. She wanted to ask the older demon before her but felt that to do so would be a bad idea. Inuyasha had told her that demons and humans alike couldn't accept such creatures as himself but—what if by not knowing, the doctor missed some form of treatment necessary for a half demon with these injuries? She took a deep breath, allowing herself to be lead out of the hut. "I just have to trust them, for now." She encouraged herself as she walked back into the darkening night, her eyes taking in the happy sight of the fire before Onaconah's hut as his wife cooked unknown delicacies for their dinner over the fire.
They had been lucky to be discovered by such nice people, very very lucky.
She allowed herself to be lead to a small mat which Onaconah's wife motioned for her to sit on with a large wooden utensil that resembled a spoon. Once seated, she drew her legs up under her chin, as she had many times throughout her life when something was troubling her heart heavily.
She remembered the ship being hit, remembered the rush of water and then waking up on the beach to a strange man hovering over her. The Captain hadn't been awake then, but was passed out in the sand, Onaconah and his son cleaning his wounds as best he could before they even attempted to move him. Both men had been so kind, reassuring her as they helped her to her feet and supporting her until she gained enough strength back to walk on her own.
Her boots had been soaking wet but in good shape, her clothes on the other hand had been virtually destroyed. Luckily, (truly so for her own modesties sake) once they had arrived in the strange world of the village, Onaconah's wife, Hyalei had been more than willing to give her a spare dress to wear. It had fitted her relatively well and the village woman had eased her stress by playing with her hair, adorning it with feathers and jewels as they marveled at her strange colored eyes, prompting Onaconah to give her the nickname, "Storm Eyes."
It had been enough to make her smile and laugh a little, the pain of not knowing and of worrying hidden until just now. Seeing Inuyasha in that hut had brought her back to this harsh reality and as she sat watching Hyalei making something that resembled bread, she felt the stress of worry once again building within her burning heart.
She closed her eyes, that dull pain in her chest becoming more and more intense as she thought of the others, the other people that she had come to love like a family. They were the closest thing to family she had ever really known. Sango, her sister, the only woman who had ever understood her. Miroku her friend, a friend she had always wanted and needed, one who looked out for her like a sister, while treating her like a woman. Shippo, a child she had been granted by tender fate, the small connection she had left to the only family member who had ever looked at her with unconditional love, Souta. What had become of them? What had become of her family? Was she ever going to see them again? Now, after finally finding a place that she felt she belonged in, was she ever going to get back to it?
It seemed cruel. It seemed to her that some cruel joke was being played on her very person.
"Sango," She whispered the name quietly, although the demons around her heard it easily but seemed to ignore her out of respect or perhaps out of a lack of knowledge for the language she spoke. "Miroku," A tear formed in her eye, washing over and moving down her cheek. "Shippo?"
She looked upwards at the nights sky, her eyes taking in the many constellations, ones she had known as a child and ones she had been taught just recently. The image of The Little Bear, high in the sky, the three stars of his back and the four for his head pointing towards where she knew the ocean lay.
Her lip trembled, Hyalei handed her a piece of strange flat looking bread. Kagome looked at her, her grey eyes sad as they met the warm black eyes of the old woman. Hyalei smiled but the image on her face was strained as well. She reached forward and brushed a few strands of Kagome's hair out of her face, moving them behind her ear before she reached up and adjusted one of the ornate feathers. Satisfied she backed away and her warm black eyes shinned with what looked to be unshed tears, she smiled the look reassuring and motherly and comforting and everything Kagome had ever wanted to see on her own mother's face.
The woman spoke not one word of English but as Kagome looked into her face she understood more than any words could say. "Thank you." She whispered out but she wasn't talking about the bread.
End of Chapter
Please Review
Congrats to LadyDogDemon for being review number 1200! Edited for Accent 6/5/2013.
Bonus Point:
Take a guess: was Inuyasha really hallucinating or did he in fact see the ghost of Captain Roberts? (Hint: There is a right answer.)
Last Chapter's Bonus Point:
The answer is a Shinigami! Fun fact for you, Shinigami are actually a relatively modern concept as far as Japanese fairy tales go. The earliest reference to a 'death god' seems to be from Chikamatsu Monsaemon's play "The Love Suicides at Amijima" (1721) although some people believe the term originated around the Sengoku era. Congrats to the winners:
Glon morski, TheRealInuyasha, Nina Morenos, SweetHunniiBunnii, Gun Toten Girly, AnimeMoonlightGoddess, LadyDogDemon, HeavenlyEclipse, Warm-Amber92, Alice's Secret Lover, Kagome39
Honorable Mentions to HentaiLemon and chronos-girl who both knew it was from Death Note but forgot the name.
Cherokee Translation:
There is a Man! = Na-hna-tlv a-s-ga-yv!; What are you doing, father? = Ga-do ha-dv-ne-ha?; Hello = o-si-yo; What is your name? = Ga to de tsa' to a'; Do you speak Cherokee? = Tsa-la-gi s hi-wo-ni? Where is the doctor and that girl? = Ha-tlv, di-da-nv-wi-s-gi a-le na a-ge-yu-tsa? He strong. = U-la-ni-gi-da. He heal in a few days. = E: ka-nv-wo-di ga-yo-li hi-lv-s-gi-i-ga.
Notes:
Onaconah – Cherokee name that means white owl.
Hyalei – Cherokee name that means beautiful meadow.
Captain Roberts - Welsh pirate who raided ships off America and West Africa between 1719 and 1722. He was the most successful pirate of the Golden Age of Piracy, as measured by vessels captured, taking over 470 prizes in his career.
Cherokee – Native American Tribe. In this fiction they are a mixture of both demons (of the bobcat variety) and humans.
Bowls – Cherokee's often used turtle shells as easy premade bowls or made ones out of hollowed sugar cane or trees.
'Mattress' – The Cherokee would use Sugar cane to make a type of mattress/sleeping pallet.
Panther Pelt – The Cherokee believed that if boys/men slept on Panther Pelts they would develop some of the animal's strength and courage. Alternatively, girls slept on doe pelts in order to gain the animal's wisdom and grace.
Kagome's Dress and Shoes – Kagome is wearing a traditional one-piece village dress for Cherokee women along with moccasins, traditional foot wear.
Next Chapter:
The Aftermath
See you then!
UNEDITTED
POSTED 3/25/2012