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
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Tokyo, Japan- Five Years Earlier- 1941
Kagome Higurashi sat on the bench in front of her preparatory school, waiting for her best friend Sango to come bounding down the steps. Kagome didn't much care that her friend kept her even as the sky grew dimmer with approaching clouds.
Nothing was waiting for her at home but hot ironing and darning and any valid excuse to ditch that was fine by her. Besides, Kagome knew that her mother would rather her only child be late than to trek home by herself, so a bit of a delay was nothing to be distressed by. Since the shrine had been converted from a place of worship to a home laundry service a year ago, Kagome often found her afternoons filled with more work than she had ever imagined.
Though she complained, she did not resent her mother for it or neglect the work given to her. Without the income her entire family—which consisted of her mother and grandfather—would be left starving in the streets. No, Kagome did not like the work, but she had no alternative.
What little sun remained peeped through the winter clouds and the warmth which emanated was absorbed into her long hair as it fell about her shoulders and back, framing her innocent face. Kagome continued to pace, lost in thought.
She thought herself to be pretty, and was in fact a striking girl, but as she spent most of her time with her mother and elderly grandfather, Kagome found it difficult to interact with her peers in ways in which they considered customary, and it left her feeling as a bit of an outsider.
The few times she had been asked to a picture show or study date, she had clammed up, unsure of how to react, leaving the boy shrugging his shoulders and moving on to a more willing participant. Not that it really bothered her—she rarely gave a second thought to the boys she attended school with.
Or the girls, for that matter.
She found participating in group projects frustrating and the thought of walking up to a cluster of girls was an anathema. That's why she was so thankful for Sango, who had just come back to stay with her mother in Japan after spending the last few years living with her half-brother’s family in the States. The slightly older girl had forced Kagome to open up and actually entertain the idea of having a friend who was flesh and blood, rather than print and paper.
They had hit it off immediately. After only a few hours acquaintance the first day of last term, Sango had followed Kagome back to the old shrine (though it was now a laundry, everyone still referred to it fondly as the shrine) and the two were inseparable since. From that initial meeting, Sango had forced her way into and created an intimate niche in Kagome's boring routine of school, laundry work with her mother and the constant companionship of her books.
Sango taught her the art of starting a conversation, the way to talk to boys without sweating and (most importantly) how to ignore the random teasing that stemmed from her occasional social awkwardness. That Kagome remained socially inept was not Sango’s fault, and Kagome loved her friend for trying. Kagome didn’t really know what she offered Sango in return, but it never seemed to matter as it was obvious to everyone that Sango treasured Kagome as a sister and confidante. If Kagome wasn’t there, it was often the case that Sango was missing as well. If Sango wasn’t in a picture with Kagome, one could be assured that she was the one taking the photograph.
Kagome stood up to stretch, watching as a lone crow cawed and flew overhead. She began shifting her book bag to another shoulder, ready to go in search of her friend, but stopped and turned at the sound of approaching voices. A breezy draft caused her short uniform skirt to flutter in a flirty circle about her legging-clad thighs and she clamped her hands against her legs to flatten the material.
She saw him first.
A silver mane trailed behind the young man as he descended the school's steps, Sango at his side. His body was so—Kagome was at a loss for words…masculine? She felt a wrench in her stomach, a response which she would later come to recognize as lust. His firm, wiry frame was casually attired in loose fitting trousers and a scarlet pullover sweater. Though she knew it was rude to let them come all the way to meet her, she stood, unable to move. He raised an arm and swept his hand over the mass of glossy strands, and Kagome was momentarily taken aback at the two downy ears perched atop of his head—ears which proclaimed his hanyou status.
Kagome did not follow the trend of her country, of treating hanyous like second-class citizens, with something akin to disgust. Not that there were many half breeds still in residence. Most had already left the country due to the tightening laws and restrictions being placed upon their liberties and rights. The soldiers that were stationed near downtown to enforce a midnight hanyou curfew attested to the newly elected government’s stance on those of mixed parentage. Strangely enough, full demons were not affected by these new laws and prohibitions, but Kagome had never much dwelled upon such injustices.
A trace of a smile touched her lips at the sight of this stranger. In fact, the whole of her attention was captured and her heart raced a bit faster as she eyed the young man, her friend nearly forgotten. The distance between them seemed enormous to her, as if they would never close the gap.
Sango whispered something to her companion and pointed. Kagome’s cheeks flamed as his eyes rose to meet her own, searing into sockets, making her sigh from the heat emanating from within.
She felt so many things. She felt real. His brief concession of her presence rocked her nerves and sent her mind flying. What was this? She wondered as another emotion—raw, yet fleeting anger—overtook her as she watched Sango link arms with his.
“Kagome! He's here! Inuyasha is here!” Comprehension snapped at Kagome's jealously, curbing it and sending it purring back into the instinctual cavern from whence it sprung. How stupid she was! She recognized now the boy from the pictures her friend had shown her in a scrap-book; the black and white images had toned down the transcendent quality of the person before her. The pictures were not recent—he was but a child in most of them. It was Sango's elder half-brother, nineteen to their respective fifteen and sixteen. Of course this handsome hanyou had to be Inuyasha.
Kagome ventured a glance at his face just in time to catch him smirking at the most indiscreet perusal of his form. Caught in the act, she found herself reeling from the physical reaction this man coaxed from her.
“Hey.”
“Hello.”
And so they met.
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Higurashi Shrine-1946
She ran to the door and without looking, unhinged the latch and stepped away, allowing the visitors entry into the darkened room. An ethereal figure of a man, tall and heaving, toppled onto the floor at her feet and an athletic girl of twenty one, her arms outstretched and laden with cloth bags and bundles, followed. The female immediately turned and soundlessly shut the door behind her and went to the window facing the street.
Ignoring the rolling and moaning man on the floor, Sango stood patiently at the window, as though awaiting a package or a letter of import. Even as the man's whimpers subsided into a quiet pant, his sister continued her vigil, her neck twisting to peer around corners while considering the fences of the neighboring properties. This went on for a full minute, as Kagome stood frozen, her eyes flitting back and forth from hanyou brother to human sister, unsure of what to do, and scared of what would happen if the two late night marauders had been followed.
“He's been shot,” Sango turned to Kagome, her profile outlined by moonlight. Kagome glanced down at the arrow shaft protruding from Inuyasha’s blood soaked shirt. “Help me.”
Kagome bent over Inuyasha, and with Sango's assistance helped the wounded man stand. The trio clumsily made their way to her bedroom near the middle of the house, the two women struggling to hold the man aloft. Once in the bedroom they laid him down, and a threadbare rug, old but clean, became his only source of comfort from the hard, wooden floor.
Grabbing a pair of scissors from her bureau, Kagome cut into his shirt and around the shaft. With impatience she rarely displayed, she tore the rest of the cloth to expose the wound—a broken off stub of a glowing wooden arrow near the heart. It was bleeding steadily, the flow just beginning to crust at the edges.
Kagome jumped up and left the room, only to return a moment later with a sloshing pot of boiled water she kept on hand as a laundress. She set it next to him and turned to Sango, who clutched his blood streaked sleeve.
“Wash your hands if you want to help.” Sango reluctantly let go of her brother and trailed Kagome swiftly into the bathroom across the hall.
A few minutes later, both young women kneeled over the man who fidgeted in pain between them. Kagome doused the area of his wound with water and a potent disinfectant, while Sango hovered with a clean fold of gauze.
Inuyasha trembled and licked his lips, looking into Kagome's eyes with a desperate wildness she had never encountered in another being. She wanted to fix him and take his pain away and embrace him as a mother would her child or a mistress her lover.
Kagome shook such thoughts from her mind and slid a tin box from under her bed. She took out a massive glass bottle of herbs, a tattered book, a needle, a thick candle, and a heavy wooden rosary. Taking a book of matches from her dress pocket, she lit the candle and placed the needle tip over the flame until it turned fairly black. “Sango, I’ve never done this. I’ve only watched my grandmother. She was a trained Miko. I—“she paused, her fingers trembling as she thread the needle. “I’ve read the books, but I don’t think I can stop the purification from spread--” Sango cut her off.
“Try.”
Kagome sprang back into action, all indecisiveness gone. “Sango, bring me that long piece of wood from the box” she directed. Sango returned to her brother’s side with a narrow stick of smooth wood and a quizzical look. Kagome took the wood with one shaking hand, and with the other, wiped a layer of sweat from the hanyou’s pallid face.
“Shh. Bite on this,” Kagome’s lilting voice entreated, speaking to Inuyasha for the first time since his arrival. "This is going to hurt and I don't want you to bite your lips or tongue.”
As she placed the stick of wood in his mouth, his modest fangs grazed her skin and caused the delicate hairs on the back of her hand to stand on end. She kept herself smiling and tranquil as though they were in the process of baking a pie instead saving his life.
Inuyasha quieted and clamped down, never taking his eyes from his rosy cheeked nurse. He wanted to assure her that he trusted her, but the pain was so great and he needed to find the strength to tell her about the wound in his leg before he passed out.
Kagome had never reversed Purification herself nor had she seen one performed since her grandmother had been alive, nearly ten years ago. Removing the arrow was one thing, but the spell to be recited and the closing of the wound...she prayed to no one in particular to give her the strength of her Miko ancestors. She opened the book in front of her to the correct page and wrapped the wooden rosary around her neck. Chanting the words of the ancient spell, Kagome grasped the arrow. A moment later, though she was still chanting, Kagome realized that she was gripping air, as the cursed arrow had disappeared from her ministrations. Kagome let out a sound of relief as she and Sango sank backwards onto the floor.
Inuyasha spit out the block of wood.
“Kago-”
“Shhh, Inu-”
“My leg” His eyes rolled back and his lids closed. His ashen face was no longer creased in pain, but smooth and handsome, resembling the boy she knew so long ago.
Kagome looked over him to his sister, and in concert, both girls reached towards his lower extremities. His right leg twitched as they found the hole in the pant leg, ripped it wide, and uncovered a chunk of skin hanging from his thigh. The arrow had gone through, parting the flesh from his leg. While the wound pulsed from the damage, the bleeding was no longer heavy, but already drying in thick rivulets on route to his ankle.
“Oh, God,” Sango sobbed as Kagome held her hand above this thigh. A faint glow emanated from her palm as she once again recited the ancient invocation that would hopefully stop the curse of Purification from spreading. As the light faded, Kagome was piqued to discover the wound still crinkling the skin around it, attempting to purify and obliterate the hanyou.
“He was running, carrying me, Kagome. He wouldn't let me get rid of the bags. He told me they missed their shot and that he was fine, but dammit! He just kept running…”
“It's just the muscle. I don't think it hit an artery,” Kagome assured her, though she was increasingly worried about the blood loss. She placed her hand over the humming flesh, sprinkled more herbs, and recited her spell again.
After she was certain that she had reversed the Purification, Kagome began the more physical task of sewing up his wounds. Though half demon, and having the moderate advantages of speed, strength, and slightly heightened smell, he was never the less still at the mercy of the purifying arrows the regime employed against his kind. Being half human left him with the mortality and lifespan of a man, therefore his flesh would take many days, if not weeks, to knit together after an attempted Purification. For full demons, Purification left the victim in a highly weakened state. Left untreated, Purification was fatal to the hanyou.
If she wanted to make sure the blood would not flow, Kagome would have to sew him together. And so she began.
His sturdy thigh was lightly covered in a coarse, white hair and though he was gravely injured, Kagome was keenly aware of his private area that lay so close to her quickly moving finger tips. She worked cautiously, though with skill—years of being a seamstress and laundress paying off as she stitched this broken man back together.
She worked at his leg while Sango looked desperately on, holding the gauzy compress to his chest.
Sango didn't know what would happen if she lost her brother, the link to the only man whom her mother had ever loved. The mother who had been shot through the chest with an arrow right in front of her for consorting with a demon and begetting a hanyou son so many years ago. Sango knew that her mother had cared for her own father, but Tashio Murakami, Inuyasha's father, had been her mother's soul mate. Losing him had caused their mother’s world to crumble, leaving a toddler son in a state of emotional distress and panic. Meeting Sango's father Hayato, two years later, had initiated a sort of healing process. That she was a specter of her former self, Sango never knew until she was a teenager.
Sango was also grateful to Sesshomaru’s family for taking in his younger half-brother Inuyasha, alleviating some of the burden from her mother. The older Inu-demon was stoic, but welcoming, and after her own father died when she was ten, Sesshomaru paid for her to go to an exclusive school in the States. Sango moved back to Japan with her mother for high school, and met Kagome the first term back.
Sango studied her friend, watched as her white, even teeth chewed a corner of her lip in concentration. After twenty minutes and a few extra stitches to tighten the skin, Kagome looked up at her best friend, her sister. “Sango, bring me his things.”
Sango sat up and walked cautiously through the silent house, on alert for the sound of boots on pavement or of car doors slamming. Outside was as calm as she had left it, and she gathered the bags of belongings from the living room. Kagome emerged from the closet having shifted boxes and clothes, and propped open the door with an old cane her grandfather had left behind.
“You need to help me move him, Sango. He can't be out here in the morning. Naraku could stop by unannounced. I doubt he would, but we can't risk him," she nodded to the barely consious Hanyou, "being seen.”
The two girls spread out a sheet and shifted Inuyasha's legs carefully onto the cotton spread. Successful, they maneuvered his upper body, Kagome grasping his muscular shoulders as his sister lifted his torso to straighten him. In his semi-consious state, Inuyasha did not vocalize his pain but for a few tinny intakes of breath, but neither was he able to muster the strength to help make the task of moving him any easier. Kagome grunted as she pulled her corner of the sheet, knowing full well that if the man had been at a proper weight, there would have been no way to move him at all.
Getting him through the little hidden door within the closet proved a more difficult task and though they tried to be as careful as possible, it was nearly twenty minutes before they had him resting on the pallet that Kagome had made up for him in the shrine's hidden room.
He was finally quiet, his cheeks pink, and Kagome worried he would have infection to fight off next. That thought had to be brushed aside as she led Sango out and allowed the door to fall shut. The two friends linked arms, the somber faced Kagome steadying her distraught and hungry friend and led her to the kitchen. They washed their hands with cool water and soap and Kagome motioned for the other to sit at the table.
Stifiling a yawn, Kagome lumbered to the ice box and proceeded to take from it an assortment of plates and a jug of leftover tea, setting the selection before Sango. She returned to the box and took for herself a glass bottle of Coca-Cola, relishing the coldness against her palm despite the chlly air of the kitchen.
“We were walking down the alley about a mile away when we were stopped,” Sango began, unsolicited and through a mouthful of cold rice. “The officer asked for our identifications and Inuyasha made as though he was taking out his papers, but the guard was already drawing his bow. I suppose he could already tell we were fleeing from the bags that we had. Inuyasha punched him on the side of the head before he could get a good aim. It knocked the man out and we got the chance to escape." Sango swallowed and began to poke hungrily at the cold tinned fish. "Before we could even move, another soldier came round from the side of the building and Inuyasha picked me up and began to run. Arrows were flying. We managed to turn the corner and lose them in the neighborhoods, but they had radioed another guard ahead of us and he was waiting. He shot once, and I knew it hit him, right above my head. The soldier aimed again as we were running off, but I didn't know they hit him a second time. You would never have been able to tell. He just kept running and jumped into a tree to hide. I was afraid they would bring out dogs or rouge demons to sniff us out. After a few minutes we got out of the tree and walked from alley to alley, and thankfully we didn't see anyone else until we got to your door.”
Kagome shook her head. “Anyone would have been too scared by the yelling and Purification light to even look out their windows.”
Sango took a swig of tea straight from the jug, a trail of liquid running from the corner of her mouth as she drank, soaking the front of her shirt. She did not care about manners--she had known Kagome too long to fear admonishment for such a crass behavior.
“Miroku should be here soon.” As the words left her mouth, Sango looked to Kagome for any sign of reluctance or fear and found a weary girl, drained, but awake, the bottle of Coke now resting against her forehead as she leaned against the counter.
“If not, you can stay in the room with Inuyasha. It would be cramped but would do until we can make arrangments. Do you have your passport? Are you sure he knows how to get here?”
Sango nodded vigorously at the questions put forth. "We walked through the neighborhood two days ago and I have the documents in my purse. I need a shower and a change of clothes, if you can spare them. I'm human, but Inuyasha's scent’ll be all over me and there is bound to be a yokai or two patrolling the airport." Kagome stepped forawrd and made a gesture for Sango to hand over her soiled clothes.
"Have you heard how the government has hired demons to help identify hanyou?" Sango stood and began to unbutton her top, tossing it to Kagome along with her skirt and stockings. Kagome nodded. It had been all over the radio news and papers.
"Sesshomaru says they pay 150 for each one bought in. I guess too many hanyou were claiming to be either human or full demon, and when the government got wind of it, they began to crack down on them even harder. I won’t get past the soldiers at the airport looking like this."
Kagome held out a freshly laundered dress, a soft silken material—one of the few stylish items she still owned. She was loath to part with it, but knew Sango would need to look presentable to escape the hanyou hating regime that had become law and order in Japan. Sango accepted the dress with a bow and stepped into the halloway in the direction of the bathroom. After spending so much time here as a youth, she did not need to be shown the way.
Not only the hanyous themselves but their family and friends were being targeted. Kagome stripped off her own bloodied dress and dumped it into a wash basin along with Sango's, watching dazidly as the blood separated from the fabric and dissolved into the suds.
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After washing up, Sango walked around the house to make sure that there were no traces of blood or anything at all amiss. She had been warned that her friend’s human admirer, Naraku, could make an appearance, and Sango knew from her friend’s letters that he was a soldier as well as a high ranking official in the government. Sango wasn't sure about her friend's actual feeling towards the man, but Kagome was clear in the letters that Naraku was the reason she had been able to eat regularly and have the luxury items needed to run her business.
Kagome came and stood beside her friend, dressed in a frayed white top and a long, lavender skirt. She placed a hand upon the other girl’s shoulder so as not to startle her. “He’ll be ok for now. He has a fever, but the wounds are no longer glowing with Purification or bleeding. I’ll take care of him. Sango, look at me. I promise. You are my best friend. My sister.”
Without turning around, Sango lifted her head. “I know. That's why I asked you. It's just been so long since we’ve seen one another. And despite all the letters, I was just unsure. He fought me on it. He tried to say that it would be selfish and cowardly of him to hide here. He didn’t want to put you in danger either. But his little sister wore him down.” Sango turned towards her friend. “I just want him to live, Kagome.”
“I know, Sango.” Somewhat angrily she added, “You told me he worked in the Opposition. He should have waited for you to leave before he started that bullshit. It put too much scrutiny on you.”
“Don't blame him, Kagome,” Sango intoned, amused a little at one of her friend’s infrequent curses. “He did it to help me. I refused to leave my mother or Miroku until it was too late. Now my mom is...gone and Miroku is taking me to Inuyasha's brother's home in Massachusetts. Even if he wasn't in the Opposition, he is still my hanyou brother. They would have come for me eventually. He was going to leave with me. Sesshomaru sent us the forged documentation and everything. Miroku got his and so did I, but Inuyasha's never came. I don't want to leave him, but I know he'll be safe with you.”
A brisk knock startled both girls into silence. Kagome walked slowly to the door and peered out of the side window where Sango had watched for soldiers just hours before. Sango followed and squealed in delight at the sight of her beau.
“Come in," Kagome greeted politely as she opened the door.
A short, yet good-looking young man walked through the door frame and into the sitting room. “Thank you.”
“Miroku!” Sango threw herself at her fiancé, allowing her sobs to rack against his shoulder.
“Where is Inuyasha?” he looked around for sign of his friend.
“He was hurt, Miroku. Wait! It's ok; Kagome healed him and reversed the Purification. He’s asleep. Kagome, would it be ok if I took Miroku in to say goodbye?”
“Of course. Just be careful—there’s not much room and you have to watch his leg.”
The lady in yellow led her man in black towards the bedroom and Kagome could hear them entering through the hidden door. She sighed, and padded along after them.
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“Goodbye… Kagome…thank you,” Sango cried out between sobs, her forehead resting against Kagome’s. “Please, don't let them find him. I know it's a lot to ask, but please, please don't let him die!”
Miroku grasped Sango's hand as early morning light filtered in through a small gap in the curtains. Without speaking, Kagome handed Sango a paper bag with egg sandwiches and two bottles of Coke. She walked them to the door, Sango exiting first, her eyes narrow and red, while Miroku followed, a rueful nod to the girl whom his love placed so much faith in. He was eager to leave, and Kagome did not blame him.
After shutting the door, Kagome looked around her, unsure of how to proceed. She washed Sango's empty dishes, straightened up the kitchen, and stalked to the back of the shrine where her laundry business was. She had three pickups today and five for tomorrow, so she began her work, quickly pounding, hanging and folding, attaching identification tags to the proper baskets, and doing all that she could to not think of the man who had occupied her thoughts for so many years and who was now occupying her home.
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When all of her work was done and her orders for the next day folded and hung up, Kagome went to the kitchen and took a sealed jar from the ice box. Glancing over to the kitchen wall nearest the hall, a clock proclaimed it to be 9:20 in the morning. Kagome marveled at how much had happened in such a short span of time. She poured the jar’s contents into a small pot and with a match from the book in her pocket, lit the sole working burner on the old gas stove.
She stirred the broth methodically, deep in thought. NO. She refused to think of the past. She would not allow it. When the broth was at a soft boil, she added a little butter, and extinguished the small flame. She moved the broth from the pot to a chipped clay bowl, and grabbed a small wooden spoon from a drawer near the sink. Taking a small bottle of herbs from her pocket, she sprinkled lightly. This remedy would keep him asleep for a while yet. Filling up a glass of water, she closed the kitchen curtains and walked cautiously to her bedroom.
Careful not to spill anything down the front of her dress, she shimmied her way through the hidden door in her closet and over to the sleeping hanyou who still tossed and turned in pain and discomfort. Kagome placed the bowl and glass on the crate next to his bed, trying to be silent, but noticed his soft ears twitching in response to the intrusive noise. His eyes cracked open into slits, bloodshot and rimmed with tears.
She sat down, careful to cross her legs, and scooted closer. “Can I do anything for you? I brought some broth and water.” She would not tell him that she was going to medicate him into slumber—at least not yet. “You have to put something in your stomach. I don't want the fever to get worse.” Her voice was a little above a whisper, soft and pleasing, and his ears went flaccid and at ease in response to her soothing tone.
He mumbled incoherently and tried to move his arm, grimacing at the flash of pain exploding through his chest. It hurt so fucking bad, but he wanted to tell her what he required of her.
Kagome bent nearer to the hanyou's face, taking note of the light layer of sweat gleaming over his striking features. “What is it, Inuyasha?”
“Stay,” he wheezed. He closed his eyes and seemed to fall immediately to sleep, clawed hand palm up, but no longer curled in pain and agony. As she watched, his face lost a little of the flush that had plagued him the entire time he was here, and he began to snore with even, unhindered breaths.
She sat by his little bed, watching his chest rise up and down, thankful that the fever appeared to be lifting. She was so exhausted but knew sleep was not in the picture until he could take a few sips. Broth not forgotten, she gauged the time, and decided she would watch him and wake him in an hour to feed him.
It would be about ten now, she thought to herself. If Naraku hadn’t called by now, she didn’t think he would come at all. Standing up, but still bent at the waist, she began to pack and arrange his bags and items into the crates rather than leaving them in a jumbled mess upon the floor. It seemed to give the room more breathing space, though Kagome desperately wished for a window.
Her head ached and her hands shook from lack of sleep, but as she placed items here and there, listening to the slumbering sounds of her companion, her fatigued mind allowed itself to drift into a past that she had willed herself to ignore for the last five years.
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