Chapter 4
His Small Victory
((Wow! I never thought I would get so many reviews! Well…since people want me to continue…why not! I thank all of you for reading and I'm glad I'm doing alright.))
My feet touched the bare wooden floor of my bedchambers and a smile spread across my lips. Never was I more pleased to see Kagura's beautiful, scowling face before me. I always thought that woman was more appealing when those features were twisted in anger. At least she was far more entertaining to me.
"Naraku!" she yelled at me furiously, her deep eyes boring into me with all intensity.
However, I had no desire to listen to her droning words. My mind was elsewhere. For instead of Kagura, my thoughts were on my Miko…and of course the arrow she had sent into my back. She would pay for that, I promised. I could tear her to shreds and I knew I would enjoy it. But despite any immediate pleasure I could attain through physical pain, there was another more severe wound I could inflict. I could play with her more.
"What are you thinking of, Naraku-sama?"
The very voice of Enma- the great king of hell himself could not instill a greater loathing in me than the voice of that wretched demon-child Onigo. I turned to him, my blood red eyes narrowed at seeing his smug face smiling at me with all sincerity. His formerly broken ankles were now perfectly healed. In fact, he seemed to be showing off that fact-stretching his feet out from under a long red kimono he'd draped around his shoulders.
"I like playing with Kikyou very much. She is fun." The boy was smiling and laughing as if he were a real child. It lasted only a moment before his sinister smirk reappeared.
I didn't answer him. It is easy to imagine why. He lacked any purpose to me. His very presence was a hindrance and I could no longer bear the sight of him. It was, I think, in those moments that I completed my hatred for him. I'm not sure if it was his appearance or his words that accomplished this rare thing. Mm…such a tasteless emotion, hatred. I avoid it at all costs. Even towards Inuyasha. He always fascinated me with his independence, defending others, or whatever other convictions he had at the moment. A fine specimen of demon strength with human emotions to contend with. But with Onigo, I realized the truth about hatred. There is anger towards enemies, but that is not real hatred. Enemies remind you of what you are fighting for. Nothing makes one feel so important as to have a powerful enemy fighting to stop you. But hatred- real hatred as I felt for Onigo- has no reason. It is a feeling that there is no connection between the two of you. It is a feeling of indifference. I do not wish to admit this to anyone as it was weakness that led me to this. However, you have stayed with me this far and I find it important to mention.
"I know what you are thinking, Naraku. You have regrets about creating me, don't you Naraku?" Onigo said, silently pulling the kimono tighter around his slender frame.
My crimson stare intensified. Regrets. That's not another emotion I wanted to delve into. Under my pale baboon skin pelt, I allowed a single whip-like tail to rip through the skin along my spine. I shivered for a moment at the unusual sensation, but kept my composure. Onigo watched me intently, not noticing what I was doing until it was too late. The tail, at a speed almost invisible to mortal eyes, shot out at him, wrapping swiftly around his leg just above the ankle.
"Now, my dear boy, you will really break your ankles." I tightened the hold, smiling at his inverted posture. It was not a smirk. It was a genuine smile. I was completely content as I slowly cut off the circulation to that foot. I watched as his ankle, changed color with all the intensity of a sunset: from red to mauve, then purple, then a deep blue. It was a beautiful thing to watch in its entirety.
Unfortunately, Onigo seemed to be enjoying this nearly as much as I was. He just smiled at me with that disgusting little grin of his. How could I take pleasure in his discomfort if there was none to be seen?
"Naraku, what are you going to do to him?" Kagura asked calmly, her red eyes fixated on Onigo's foot. I imagine she was pleased that for once, she was not the focus of my punishment. I had done much to her in the past and she was a good playmate. She would grit her teeth and stamp her feet like some impetuous fool. I loved her performances.
Onigo laughed loudly as I held him there and answered Kagura's question for me. "He's trying to make me obey him. But I don't think our Onigumo has the strength in him to do that."
There it was. That name again. Recently, it seemed I was hearing it quite a lot more often than I should have been. After all that effort I had gone through to rid myself of it, here it was in all its vulgarity. I couldn't bear to be around him another moment. The sting of Kikyou's arrows had crossed with my newfound revulsion for Onigo. I was in actual pain: mental and physical.
And so I let him go. I threw him against the floor like the puppet he was. I threw him so hard that dark blood flew from his mouth and nose. Kagura smiled at this. Whether it was from a love of pain, a disdain for Onigo, or a fear of me, I'm not certain. She is a fool. For what I had done had given Onigo the pleasure of seeing an emotional reaction from me. He had tasted what few would ever partake of. And in that sense, even as he writhed in pain for a moment, it was truly happiness that bubbled up within him.
He had been given a small victory over his master.
So he left without another word, completely satiated in his goal. As he disappeared from the room, Kagura knelt to the ground before me.
"Master…he has gone then? To care for his wounds?" she questioned. I was very pleased to hear the hatred in her voice.
"Those are nothing to him. To a pure demon such as Onigo, such a small thing is nothing to bear. Unlike your inability to brace my attacks, this demon is far more formidable. Not to mention, completely independent."
This sort of statement should have instilled pride within me for my creation. But not him. Not this one whom I hated.
"Kagura, I wish to sleep now. Keep Onigo away from me until I send for him."
I had told Kagura two lies. The first was that I would never send for Onigo. The second was that I was planning to sleep. As she gave an unwilling bow to me, I tore away from that room with all speed I could muster at that moment. My baboon-skin robe brushed the ground as I practically flew from that castle. Kagura witnessed this escape, but she knew not to question me. Blind obedience at its finest.
After what seemed like hours, I found a quiet grove which I deemed was far enough away from that wretched beast Onigo. I rested against a large tree, wrapping the baboon-skin tightly around myself. I would wait here for a time. I looked around at the forest and noticed something unusual. The tree that I was resting against had been struck by lightning. I could still smell the pungent aroma of burning decay and it sickened me. But more than that, its scarred and gnarled bark reminded me of something familiar. It seemed like so long ago had I writhed within those stained bandages, my own skin a mass of thick scars. Her hands had caressed that skin, her very presence a healing touch…
I didn't want to think of Onigumo now. I didn't want to think of Kikyou now.
So I reduced the ancient tree to a pile of charred limbs and ashes. I decided it was time to keep moving.
