Adult-FanFiction.org : Inuyasha / Yashahime

Hidden Hanyou	By : SheShar Category: InuYasha AU/AR > General Views: 7988 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha, nor the characters, and make no money from this fan fiction.

Chapter List
- 14
- 15
- 16
“Inuyasha?” Kagome entreated, after the hanyou did not immediately come back into the house. “Are you ok?” Seconds became minutes as the storm blustered through the still open doorway wetting the floor, ruffling her dress and blowing her hair so that she had to repeatedly brush it from her face. She kept a hand to chest and stood barefoot and cold, facing the rectangular brink of emptiness where he had last been seen.
The black of the night seemed to momentarily light up as Inuyasha backed into the kitchen, gleaming hair plastered to his neck. His breathing was labored and the angle at which he stood seemed odd to her-he kept his head down, allowing his mane to veil his face and arms, although to Kagome, it looked as though he were clutching his stomach. Her heart beat faster with confusion and dread as she stood in near shock, unable to move towards him although she could see his legs quavering, presumably from the pain of the walk.
“Close the door,” he instructed, pivoting away from her, a slight grunt escaping as he limped to the chair where he had previously been sitting. Scared that he had somehow been injured, she sprang forward, firmly shutting and latching it into place before turning to Inuyasha.
Please, she prayed, please be ok, please be ok.
“Stay over there,” he advised, his back her, shoulders hunched.
Ignoring the strangled request, Kagome circled round to him, “Show me whe—”
It was then she understood why he took his time outside and why he did not want to face her now.
He held a little kitsune boy covered in blood, shivering, no, more like convulsing in the hanyou’s muscular arms. Kagome gasped, taking in the ever spreading red and the grey pallor of his little face. He was just a baby, no older than two or three. She tore her eyes from the pitiable sight and met Inuyasha’s, but could not bring herself to speak coherently.
“Hospital?”
Inuyasha looked down at the bundle in his arms, which was growing stiller by the minute, and shook his head.
His deadened response initiated her own instinct to help and heal, snapping her from her stupefaction.
“Inuyasha, put him on the table,” she directed over her shoulder as she ran towards her bedroom for the medical box. “If I could reverse your purification, I can help him.” She felt weak and bizarre; everything was going in slow motion, though it had not yet been two minutes since he had come back.
“Kagome, don’t.” She stopped at the juncture of the hallway and kitchen, hand clutching the wall to halt her forward motion. “There’s no use.” And without warning, he stood and shambled to her, the blood that had been allowed to pool as he gently cradled the dying child splashed to the floor. Inuyasha was acutely aware of how the blood had saturated his shirt, and it took all his effort not to allow his revulsion to get the better of him. He could—and he would—wait it out to the end.
Kagome’s mind reeled. How he could be so incredibly foolish at the expense of a life? “Inuyasha,” she pleaded, “Please. I saved you, let me help him.”
“Kagome, trust me, please, it’s—”
“God damn it, give him to me then!” her voice trembled with indignation. Kagome reached over, and to her surprise he leaned back, prohibiting her from touching the injured boy.
“Kagome, listen to me,” he calmly intoned. “There is nothing you can do.”
Inuyasha felt the waning heartbeat against his person. This was not happening. It felt so bizarre and never before had he been so overcome with the murderous rage that was now pumping through his veins. It was causing his brain to whirl and battled to overtake his senses. He had a brief gush of it when his mother had been killed, and another when he himself had been attacked, but for whatever reason, holding this innocent little boy in his arms as he was dying…was this his breaking point?
Kagome implored once more. “Just let me look at him.”
Inuyasha smoothed the boy’s sandy hair from his sweat laden forehead. “I guess it doesn’t matter now,” he said softly. “Don’t worry, little one,” the boy’s elongated ears, which were situated on the sides of his head, twitched at the comforting words. “I won’t let you go.”
Kagome approached with a clean towel in hand. She would need to see the extent of the injuries before acting. She could probably seal whatever the damage was, but she needed to do so as soon as possible.
With deft fingers, she pulled his little hands away from his body and tucked one against an ashen cheek while allowing the other to hang over Inuyasha’s arm. Investigating further, she noticed what appeared to be a rip near the bottom of his pale blue shirt, above the pant line, and pulled the kitsune’s blood soaked garment over the abdominal wound.
Whatever she expected, it was not this. Someone had split the boy’s stomach open. The gaping division of skin ran across his naval and extended transversely down his side. The little boy had been holding himself in; his innards were exposed, the flesh jagged. The blood was so deep red, it was almost black. She looked up at Inuyasha then back down to her fingers which had dipped into the puddle. The hanyou was trembling and she knew then that the child was dead.
That’s when she lost it. Her breaths came out in ragged spurts, and she placed both hands across her mouth while hyperventilating, unknowingly smearing blood across her cheeks and lips. It mingled macabrely with her lipstick and blush. She looked, wide eyed, to Inuyasha, who had eyes full of tears as well.
“Kagome,” he began, but stopped when she hit the floor hard on both knees without seeming to feel any pain. She grabbed on the tulle skirt of the dress, pulling it to her face, moaning into the fabric. Her tangled hair swept the ground beside her, and she rocked back and forth, muffled sobs rebuking his ear and tugging at his heart. Tonight was full of firsts. Just as he had never really seen her smile, neither had he really seen her cry.
“We don’t know his name. His family. And now he’s dead. He was just a baby. Is he even hanyou?” she cried out, “are they killing kids of any kind now?”
“Kagome, please,” it was his turn to beg. “Kagome, listen, I can’t do this myself. I need your help. We have to bury him. We need to take care of him now. I need you to calm down and look at me. Kagome!” he barked. This got her attention, the trance she had been in broke, and she sat there, her shoulders trembling, instead of heaving as they previously were.
“Why?” she questioned.
“I don’t know, Kagome,” Oh, Jesus he couldn’t take any more. He wanted to join her on the floor and hold her, but couldn’t with the dead boy in his arms. “I need you. I remember how calm and collected you were when I came. I remember. You saved me, and nursed me, and cared for me. I need that Kagome right now. Just for a little while, I promise,” He worked to keep his voice firm, but not harsh. “I know we couldn’t save him, but we can give him a burial on shrine grounds. We can do that for him. But I need you to snap out of it, honey. Please.”
She seemed to consider this. The clock could be heard ticking in the living room off the hall despite the torrent of rain against the house.
“I’m sorry. I’m OK now,” she assured him and pulled herself up using the counter top to help regain her footing. Taking slow deep breaths, she turned on the faucet and splashed cold water onto her face, the blood running down her chin and onto her chest. Grabbing a hand towel, she gave her front a quick rub down. Moments passed and she soon felt herself again, though deeply distraught, and a little embarrassed by her outburst.
Kagome wasn’t too certain what had come over her, except perhaps that the years dealing with her mom’s illness, the long nights of nothing but the monotony of laundry, Naraku, and living every day with the threat of war and death and destruction had finally taken its toll.
“We have to be very careful,” she warned shakily, while rummaging through an overhanging cupboard. “The back yard can be seen from the ally and from the second floor of either neighbors. If we can get to the little gate at the very end of the yard then that’s the start of the shrine’s forest. I haven’t been able to afford a gardener, so it’s a jungle out there, and a little farther out is the well house. There are shovels inside, and it’s considered private property.” The more she spoke, Inuyasha was relieved to note, the more she sounded like her old self. Yet he studied her as she went about her task, extremely concerned. Kagome had gone from completely hysterical to serene in a fraction of a flash.
She closed the cupboard and turned to the hanyou. “Let’s wrap him in this.” She held out a beautiful woolen blanket, delicate, and so very soft looking. “Bring him here Inuyasha,” she beckoned, sliding her fingers across the fabric. “We can wrap him in this. It was mine when I was a baby.”
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They trudged furtively back into the house, single file, about midnight. By this time, Inuyasha could no longer stand, and buckled onto a chair while Kagome washed the dirt from her hands. I just want to go to sleep, she thought, but instead of heading to shower and then to bed as she so desperately wanted, she began to pull cleansers, sponges and scrubbers from various drawers and cabinets. The young woman set the supplies onto the countertop, before stepping over the blood to where the hanyou sat, his elbow upon the table, head resting in his palm. His eyes were open, though the lids were fluttering. Both young persons craved distraction from the deed that had been done.
“Hey, Inuyasha,” she knelt down to his eye level and placed a hand lightly on his knee. “Take off your suit in here so I can try to wash it. Then I’m going to help you to the bath and pour in some healing herbs. It’s ok if you fall asleep in the tub, because I’m going to clean and it might take me awhile.” She smiled wanly, tapping her forefinger against his leg. “When I’m done, I’ll help you to bed, bring you some food, and then shower myself. Are you up for it?”
Inuyasha regarded her closely, his eyes straining against exhaustion and pain. He could probably manage, but just barely. “Yeah, that’s fine.”
“K, I’ll help you out of this. Let me know if I’m hurting you,” she explained, creeping up behind him. Careful not to aggravate his injured arm, she pulled the suit jacket from off of his shoulders, her nails lightly grazing his neck.
For a moment, he closed his eyes and allowed the night’s events to melt away, instead concentrating on the sweet warm breath on his neck, her careful yet purposeful fingers on his arms and in his hair, parting the locks on either side in order to better slip off his coat. Inuyasha brought her face to mind, recalling the smile she had given when they had met in the hallway.
She threw the coat into a pile on the floor as he tried, unsuccessfully to unbutton his dress shirt. She pushed his hand away and began to pluck each button completely off the shirt, the loose threads still clinging to the button holes. “I’m going to have to throw this away anyways,” she shrugged. “Might as well salvage something.” When all of the buttons lay in a pile on the counter, she gently pulled the suspenders from his shoulders, one at a time. Inuyasha sat there, yielding, hypnotized as she continued to undress him.
Kagome took each of his arms in turn, gently stretched them out, and peeled the blood soaked shirt from his body. He sat there, the air cool against his muscled shoulders and back, as she matter-of-factly began to unbutton his pants. Before he could open his mouth to protest (well, actually before he could just rip the damn pants off himself since she seemed so eager), hooked her arms through his own and helped him to stand. He really wished he didn’t need that much assistance, but he felt as though he could not resist nor did he want to. Though she was professional in her undressing of him and despite the pain, his body acutely felt the physical side effects of her ministrations.
They stood close, nearly eye to eye, before she shocked him again by squatting down. Her head ended up near the center of his thighs and his first reaction was to place both hands lightly on her shoulders. She tugged his pants down, leaving him in his shorts alone. She rose up, and before he could wrap his mind around the knowing little smile that beset her lips when she had popped back up, she held out her arm and they were on their way to the bathroom. Kagome helped him to sit upon the lip of the tub, plugged the drain, sprinkled herbs, turned on the water and left him to the rest.
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It took two full hours to clean everything, and she still hadn’t gotten to the laundry. Untying the neck of the dress, she pulled it up over her shoulders and threw it on top of Inuyasha’s soiled duds. She felt naked standing alone in the kitchen only in her slip, whose cord tied halfheartedly across her chest so that it could be effortlessly worn with a sleeveless dress. The silken undergarment fell to her knee, and though she had been sweating profusely earlier, thankfully it was not as dirty as the rest of her clothing.
Having gathered the bundle to take to the wash, she noticed something protruding out from the side pocket of Inuyasha’s pants. She set the clothes on her work table and made for his trousers so that she could retrieve his belongings before they ruined in the wash.
At first, she didn’t quite know what she was looking at. Well, she knew it to be a scarf of course, but why he took the trouble to fold it over and over upon itself and take it with him to their dinner was a mystery for a split second more. She brought the length of knitted material closer for further inspection.
Then she remembered.
It was her scarf. The scarf that she had worn on the day he had kissed her. She was sure of it though the fabric was now quite faded and rougher than she remembered.
Her mind flashed to the past and a surge of affection overtook her. So that’s where it had gone. After leaving Sango’s that day, Kagome had realized it was missing, and though her friend and helped her search, it was nowhere to be found. Kagome had concluded that it had somehow been lost on the trip home.
But here it was.
He had kept it all this time, all these years. Kagome clutched her discovery to her chest as she poured soap into the wash. She shut the heavy lid, brought the scarf to her cheek, and leaned thoughtfully against the vibrating metal of the machine, her mind engrossed with sorting and filing through all of her dealings with Inuyasha.
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Inuyasha awoke groggily, head pounding, among other things, with the urgent need to piss. Not wanting to make a mess in the bucket for Kagome to clean up, he braced himself for the pain and crawled out from his hidden room. He righted himself using the boxes that were stacked in her closet and because it was still dark this early morning, kept his hand along the wall to guide his excursion.
He relieved himself quickly and shuffled back to the room with the intention of resuming his slumber. However, as he walked soundlessly by Kagome, she sighed and rolled onto her back, one hand falling slightly off the bed, palm open. She snored lightly in her deep sleep, and the opportunity to soak her up at his leisure was too much to pass by. He turned and walked to her bedside.
She was as beautiful in repose as she was during her active hours and he rallied against the urge to reach out and caress her sleeping form. Not only because it would be pretty inappropriate, but because she just looked so damn peaceful. Her hair was pinned up, still a little damp from her shower, and she smelled fresh and clean, her chest slowly rising and falling in a calming rhythmic manner. Sleep, Kagome, you deserve it.
He began to step back towards the closet when a familiar bolt of color cried out to him. No, it couldn’t be. He limped closer to her. Oh shit, it was.
While one of Kagome’s arms had fallen to the side of the bed, her other arm rested across her stomach. In her right hand, the scarf that he had intended to gift her for her birthday was loosely wrapped.
Well.
He stepped closer, but this time a floor board creaked, bringing Kagome to the brink of wakefulness. Deciding that he didn’t want to have to explain to her why he was standing over her watching her sleep (Because who am I kidding, I think I fucking love her), he softly rambled back to the closet, and with one last look, he disappeared into his room, wondering how much more she could take, and just how fragile she really was.
- 14
- 15
- 16
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Hidden Hanyou