Adult-FanFiction.org : Inuyasha / Yashahime

A Tale of Tales	By : GoddessEva Category: InuYasha > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 8801 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own InuYasha, nor do I make any money off of this work. InuYasha is the property of RumikoTakahashi, though is He weren't he and his brother would never defeat Naraku, or anyone else because they would be fucking like bunnies.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
Chapter 5

His ears were ringing. His body ached. His eyes were blurry and sore. His nose was itchy. He was crying. He turned toward his mother and called to her, but his voice sounded so far away. He knew he was calling her, his sore throat protesting at his volume, but still it sounded like a whisper. A wisp of wind or the breath of death, still far away but close enough to frighten. Why wasn’t she moving? Surely she could hear him? Momma….Momma….
“…Momma!” He screamed, dragging his broken, battered body to her side; shaking her shoulders in an attempt to arise her. “Momma, wake up, please…Momma!”
It helped not at all. His mother was still and breathless, laying in a shallow, crimson pool, half-naked and stained with tears. His poor, beautiful mother; she was gone, he knew, she had left him, been stolen from him; those horrible men had stolen his mother…and his innocence.
“I’m sorry, Momma, I couldn’t save you, I couldn’t…” He choked on his sobs as he clutched the tattered remnants of his mother’s once fine silken kimono. Be brave, InuYasha, your brothers still need you, he told himself. Yes, they did…he had to clean up everything before he went to find them. They couldn’t see their momma like this; it would break them. He wiped his eyes and went about the task of searching for a proper cover for his poor Lady Mother. He found a sheet of silk hidden by some of the servants before they fled and undiscovered by the brigands that had been in his home, pulled it down from its hiding place, and carried it to wrap around his matriarch. “I’m sorry, Momma, but this was the best I could do…everyone’s gone.” He looked outside to see the torrent of rain pouring down; as if the sky itself had mourned his mother’s passing. It was so dark…had it been this dark before? How long had he been unconscious?
He ran to the supply room. The gardeners sometimes stored shovels there with the other servants’ things. He pulled open the door to find everything had been stolen, save a small bucket and some of the special dirt used when planting fresh healing herbs in the garden. He grabbed the bucket and exited the house, making his way down to the previously flower-covered valley behind the estate. He would bury his mother by the Sakura blossoms; they had always been her favorite. He found a spot at the end of the coppice, under the largest tree in the grove, and began to dig, entrenching his small claws in the mud and displacing as much dirt as his little hands could move at once. He jumped whenever thunder clapped in the sky, but didn’t stop. It had to be deep or Momma would be uncovered by the rain, and she wouldn’t be at rest then. The priest had told him that on a visit to their village when he was much younger. He dug and dug and dug until the top of the hole he was digging was well above his head- a large man could stand in it and not be able to touch the top- all the while the sky pelted him with moisture. He scrambled out of the hole and went back to the house to retrieve his mother’s corpse.
He tried to lift her up as best he could, so that he wouldn’t have to drag her through the mud, but Momma was heavy and stiff, and he was so little. Why couldn’t he be bigger? He half carried, half dragged his mother down to the knoll where her grave had been dug and did his best to lower her gently into the ground. He slipped in with her, losing his footing in the mud and landing on top of her body, her blood saturating his clothes, bringing tears to his eyes and an almost-sob to his lips. He beat them back and climbed out of the grave once more, using the previously acquired bucket to cover his mother with earth, saying a prayer to the Gods as he did so, so that they would take pity on her and allow her to rest in peace. As the hole filled, he spotted a large rock nearby, nearly as large as he was, and dragged it over to her final resting place, setting about the task of carving a tombstone from it with his miniscule claws, losing a few in the process. He paid them no mind as they would grow back before he had to retrieve his charges and finished the inscription on the stone. Here lies the Lady Izayoi. Mate of the Lord InuTaisho of the Western Lands, and beloved Mother of three sons. Gone, but not forgotten; May the Gods grant her peace in the next life. He had seen a similar inscription atop another grave and it seemed fitting that he should have something to mark her, in case anyone should wish to visit and forgot where she was resting.
He sat there for another moment, staring at the stone he had carved, another wave of depression consuming him. How was he supposed to do this? How was he supposed to take care of himself? Why couldn’t she be stronger, why did she have to leave them all alone? Why was she so weak, why did she have to die? Why did she get to leave when he was stuck here? We have to be strong now, pup. We have to care for our brothers, they’ll need us. Yes, his brother’s needed him, how could he have been so selfish? His poor nii-chans… InuYasha stood and made his way back to the house determined to bring it back to its former glory before he retrieved them from their hiding place. It had taken him hours to scrub the walls and floors, to clear them of the sight and smell of blood, and he had cried throughout, but it was done. All the broken glasses and pottery had been cleared away, all the blood was gone, and all the bodies had been buried. All that needed to be done was to clean himself of mud and blood and dirt and grime and nastiness…and sorrow. He had to put on a happy face for them. He had felt all that he could feel for now. They would need him to be strong and stable and level headed if they were going to survive. He would have to guide them now. He would have to learn deference and patience…it would be hard, he knew, but he would do it, for momma.
He gathered a change of clothes from the scraps the ruffians had left behind and went to the stream to bathe. He felt a little better now that he was clean and the rain had stopped. He gathered some carrots and potatoes from some of the nearby huts, which were unsurprisingly devoid of life, killed a few of the rabbits living in a small cubby under a fern tree at the edge of the village, and after skinning them the way the cook had showed him, built a fire from the wood reserves and threw them into a pot with the pre-prepared broth and seasonings that had been left behind. He was lucky the bandits had only been after gold and linens; otherwise, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to make anything even remotely edible. He supposed he’d have to learn eventually…
After blending everything together, and making sure everything was back in its proper place, he went to fetch his brothers, who must have been terribly frightened by now. InuYasha took a deep breath, slid the door open, and pulled the panel from its place in the wall. He was greeted by the site of two large-eyed, trembling little boys huddled together in the back of the cavity InuYasha had carved into the wall. Once they realized who it was that revealed them, they leaped out of their cubby and lunged forward, collapsing him onto the ground, his arms filled to bursting with the frames of his elder brothers. At once he was pelted with questions, what happened, what had taken him so long, where was momma, what was for dinner, and at once he had no answers. He lead them to the kitchens and told them to wait there, he would find a change of clothes, then feed them and tell them everything he could. It wouldn’t do much, he thought, to coddle them the way he would. It may soften the blow a bit, but it was unlikely to do anything else; to buffer the loss of their mother in the slightest. He would try, and that would simply have to be enough.
When InuYasha returned to them, his arms full of their clothes and toys, he found them resting together by the fire, stirring only when he placed their belongings near them and moved the pot of food closer to himself so that he could check its doneness. He wasn’t sure how long, exactly it was supposed to cook, but he had an idea of what it was supposed to taste like, and it had not yet developed the proper flavor, so he refrained from waking them just yet. He looked at them, watching them sleeping peacefully beside one another. How many times would they be able to sleep that way? How many peaceful nights would they have together? How many warm meals would they have? How many times would they come by that food effortlessly? As many as times as he could give them, as he could help, even if it meant he would have no peace at all, ever again. After all, he was the son of InuTaisho, and even if he wasn’t, he was InuYasha, the greatest of three sons, and soon, he would prove it…
It had been hard for them in the years that followed, not that Saiou or Takeshi knew any of that. InuYasha had done his best to shelter them from the cruelty inherent in the lives of orphaned children. InuYasha had taken the beatings, InuYasha had found their home, and InuYasha had fed and clothed and kept them content, never once complaining, never once sharing with them the burdens that weighed heavy on his shoulders. He had killed for them, and they would never know, he had stolen for them, but they would never know, he had suffered more than any child deserved to suffer, all for them, and they never know. They were blessed and content and still innocent, and that was all InuYasha could hope for. He was patient with them, disciplined them when they misbehaved, and treated them when they were sick. They wanted for nothing, and when they were old enough, they spoke of mates with InuYasha, each harboring their own secret desires and fantasies of what their lives would be….except InuYasha, whose life was his brothers’ and could be given to no one else, no matter who expressed an interest.
Not long after they had established themselves in a village to the far West, near the coast, a tribe of wolves from the mainland took shelter in their homes from the summer storms. The youngest son of their leader, named Kouga, had pursued the gentle half-demon fervently, and enthusiastically, never once deterred by the young man’s temperate rejections. If anything they made him more adamant in his pursuit, even going so far as to inform the entire village, loudly and with much fanfare, that InuYasha would be his mate. InuYasha just smiled and shook his head, telling all who inquired that this was the speech of an over-enthusiastic young man who simply didn’t know any better than to claim a half-breed as his mate. Kouga had denied this profusely, claiming to have gazed on the finest faces on the continent and insisting that InuYasha was, by far, the fairest and certainly the strongest. This earned him an eye roll, but nothing more in response, for InuYasha- though mild in temperament and infinitely patient with immaturity- knew very well the young wolf had seen naught but the shore he stood on, the Sea, and his own den. When summer ended and the wolf tribe was taking its leave, Kouga had promised to return the next season to claim InuYasha as his one and only love.
“Wolves mate for life,” He’d said. “And you’re who I’ve chosen. So you better not let anyone else take you. I’m coming back as soon as Father will let me, and you’d better be waiting when I return.”
InuYasha gave him his trademark smile, sad and haunted but still a gentle and compassionate smile, and said that he would wait as long as time permitted, but not a second longer, laughing when the wolf grinned his wide toothy grin and sailed away. He had waited, looking to the horizon every spring, never truly believing the wolf prince would come, but also never being one to break a promise. So he’d waited and waited, but the wolf prince never came.
The next suitor to come knocking was a tall, skinny young monk –acolyte named Miroku. His master, Mushin, had decided to set up shop in the village market, and the pair had taken up residence in the next hut down. InuYasha, being the thoughtful young man that he was, had felt the need to give them a house warming gift. A ‘welcome to the neighborhood’ gift if you will. What had greeted him when he arrived was a scrawny half-naked youth about a head taller than he was and a head-less demeanor. He had introduced himself as Miroku and had asked if InuYasha would like to come inside.
“I’d hate to eat this all by myself.” He said making a rather obscene gesture to the pastry that InuYasha had presented to him, when he had made himself decent enough to be presentable.
To that InuYasha raised a delicate brow and scoffed. “From the reputation you’ve already gathered, I highly doubt you’ll be alone for very long.”
Miroku frowned. “Now that’s not very fair…”
“Fair or not, it’s true, no?” InuYasha laughed at his befuddled expression. “In any case, welcome and enjoy…though, please, try not to be so….familiar in the future. You’ll end up with much more than a reddened cheek if you keep it up.”
In the months that followed, Miroku had tried to seduce InuYasha into more…elicit activity, but being rejected at every turn, settled for being his friend. Very soon the two were nearly inseparable, except of course when the monk got it in his head that he was a ladies man and would traipse towards the gaggle of ladies that usually formed in front of the bakery where InuYasha conducted his business in his show of mock sensuality- elephant-like though InuYasha thought it to be- and would ask them all to bear his children. This, of course, earned him a sound slap in the face from several of the young women, and he would drag himself back inside and slump onto the counter, where InuYasha would cheer him up with a gentle smile and a lemon cake, his favorite. It wasn’t long before Miroku, too, drifted out of InuYasha’s life having met an alluring young demon-slayer named Sango, and chased off after her wherever she went like a love-struck pup. Of course, he promised InuYasha that he would return, and of course he never did. That was fine. InuYasha had had his friendship, and he still had his brothers, and that had been enough for him.
There were a few more nameless faces that had come after. None particularly enthralling nor interesting, except one, who had appeared shortly after the Lady InuKiyomi had taken his precious brothers to her home, and left him all alone. He appeared sometime after the start of InuYasha’s last spring in the village, when the fog on the Sea of Mist lifted for the first time in decades and the Mystic Island materialized. He called himself Ryura, one of four so-called war gods, and had taken a macabre interest in the young half-demon who obstinately resisted every one of his advances, tenacious though the supposed god was. While InuYasha had never had a particular fondness for the other villagers, preferring to keep to himself, he had no appreciation for the suffering that Ryura and his brothers put them through. The slaughtering of the villagers at the local shrine had been the last straw for InuYasha, who had told Ryura that unless he and his siblings removed themselves from the village, he would evict them himself violently.
Ryura, of course, had laughed. “Pretty thing, what violence could you possibly do against me or my brothers?” He turned to his brothers, flashing his fangs at them, highly amused. “This one thinks he can remove us by force, but fear not brothers, powerful though he may be he is not one for fighting. Far too delicate.”
He’d lost an eye for his comment; his brothers, their lives. Why everyone thought he was delicate simply because he did not seek violence out, he would never understand. They were drawn to it simply because they did not know any different. Their weakness need not be his. He was InuYasha, the greatest of three sons, who need no longer be the son of InuTaisho for it did him no good. He was powerful, he knew this, but he was peaceful, and would remain such for as long as he could, but he would condemn himself to the deepest pits of hell before he allowed innocents to suffer for the enjoyment of others. The incident had earned him the title ‘Dragon of the West,’ which was odd, he thought, because he was a dog, not a dragon. Ah well, no use fussing over something one couldn’t change; humans were changeable enough as it was, the name wouldn’t last long.
The years following were relatively peaceful, people came and went, the seasons changed, the sun rose and fell, and the Dragon of the West became legend and nothing more, though to here tell the Dragon had left to conquer the mainland and simply had not returned. InuYasha rolled his eyes at this. The things humans came up with over the passage of time. Silly things. He left the village after his seventy-fifth year of life, hiss twenty-fifth without his brothers, and set out to explore the island, his home. He found he had a particular affection for the forests and spent most of his time there, eventually claiming a patch of forest land for his own near a small farming village in the Siengoku province. He never left the Western Territories, feeling a particular affinity to them, after all they were his homeland and he saw no reason to leave them. But still, all throughout his wandering something was missing…
It was early morning when the scent of burning wood met his nostrils. He awoke instantly, expecting to see the forest engulfed with flame; instead he found that the village temples was burning. Apparently the young priestess serving their had fallen in with another, darker half-demon, whose name InuYasha had never truly taken an interest in learning, who had betrayed her and attempted to steal a jewel of some kind from her, at least that was the story he’d heard from the villagers. Shaking his head muttering about people and their shiny baubles, InuYasha worked quickly to put out the fire and chase after this thief, finding him with little to no trouble at all. He was at once put off by the choking aura the creature put off, he was clearly an unnatural being, why would a woman said to be the purest of women consort with one such as this.
“Are you the demon that rules over this forest?”
InuYasha frowned. “I rule over nothing. I live here, nothing more.”
The shadowed figure turned to face him. His red eyes laughing despite the clear danger that InuYasha posed. Another fool that thought him weak. “Well met, kukuku, but I have to ask: you’ve never taken an interest in the lives of the villagers before, why start now?”
InuYasha raised an eyebrow. “What business is it of yours why or when I should decide to care about them?”
“Villagers houses burn all the time, so it wasn’t the fire. You despise Kikyo, she’s told me as much. Said that when she goes into the forest you actively avoid crossing paths with her.”
“Kikyo? The priestess? I do not despise her; her presence simply leaves something to be desired.” InuYasha furrowed his brow. “Why should she have such a desire for one of your….ilk? Surely she can attain better than a less than whole creature as yourself?”
“Kukuku, I agree, but I believe she desired companionship.” He held up a necklace with a round pearl-shaped gem clutched covetously between his fingers. “I desired only this.”
InuYasha barked a short laugh. “A cheap trinket? You attempted to destroy an entire village for such a trifle?”
“This is no trifle. This is the Shikon Jewel, and with it I, Naraku, will become the most powerful demon in the lands. No one, not even you will be able to look down your nose at me.”
InuYasha laughed again. “Perhaps you haven’t heard? You have to become a demon before you can become ‘the most powerful.’ Though I suppose you knew that already?”
“I am a demon!” Naraku shouted, his face turning red, becoming enflamed by his rage. “What would you know about it anyway? You’re a half-breed just like me, so if I’m not a demon, neither are you.”
InuYasha nodded. “Yes, the difference, I suppose, being that I am not audacious enough to claim otherwise.”
Naraku opened his mouth, probably to scream again, paused and smiled slowly. “Well, tell that to your precious villagers. Kukuku.” With that, he surrounded himself in a veil of miasma and disappeared, leaving InuYasha in the clearing alone with nothing to suggest it had ever been otherwise.
InuYasha frowned turning away from the previous spot of his enemy to face the incoming villagers, all the while considering what the abomination had said. It was true that he wasn’t a true demon; his mother’s blood had made sure of that. But he would never think to destroy the livelihoods of other men to undo what his mother had done out of love for his father, though he didn’t supposed that a creature such as Naraku would have any such hang up, being created not from a mother and father but from an amalgamation of vicious creatures with malicious intent; on their own weak, together a masterpiece of violence and contrition. He had to hand it to the beast; he could conjure quite a bit of malice between neighbors.
“You there, demon,” a voice called to him from afar, a voice he recognized as belonging to one of the villagers, though he had never seen the man’s face. “Where is the Shikon Jewel?! Where are you hiding it? Why have you murdered the Lady Kikyo?”
InuYasha frowned as the voice drew him out of his contemplation, not expecting the villagers to arrive so soon, though he knew they were coming. “I have stolen nothing. As for Kikyo, she is a priestess not a lady and I have done no violence against her. The demon you seek is not here.”
“Lies! I’ve seen you stalking the village!” Another villager, a woman, shouted in the distance. “You’ve been plotting this from the beginning!”
“I have done no such thing.”
“She’s right! This demon hangs around the village all the time.”
“He frightens my daughters; scares them with his demonic presence!”
“Now, hold on a moment I have ne-“
“He’s a monster just like all the others! We should’ve called a demon slayer when we had the chance!”
“I have never done anything to warrant-“
“Let’s kill him before he uses the Jewel to exterminate us!”
“Enough!” InuYasha shouted at the top of his lungs, commanding the attention of the villagers who had previously been plotting his demise. “I have done no violence against this village, nor do I have violent feelings towards you, its villagers; however, if you attempt to harm me, I will not hesitate to end your lives!”
“You here that, he’s threatening u, when all we wanted was to defend ourselves! Get him!”
Suddenly, there was bloodshed. As the villagers came at him with spears and hoes and picks, he met them with fangs and claws and power, sparing not a one who meant him harm. As the tides turned and villager after villager fell, he felt a presence behind him, a spiritual aura that he knew could only come from one being in such close proximity to Sengoku. He turned to face this new attacker with as much defensive intent as he met the others.
There, standing atop a steep hill, bow arrowed and clothes stained in blood was Lady Kikyo in all her glory. Her face twisted with grim determination, intent on defending her village if it was the last thing she would do, knowing with no doubt that it would be. “Naraku said you would turn on us. He said we shouldn’t trust you, that you had always wanted the Jewel for yourself; to be a full demon. And yet, we trusted you. We gave you a home, a place to call your own, and you betrayed us! Why? Why did you betray us, InuYasha?”
What the hell is she talking about?! “I came to this village on my own, never entering it, never calling it my home. I lived in the forest; it was, no, is my home. You gave me nothing. I have not betrayed you, you have allowed yourself to be seduced and bewitched by an abomination and that is no fault of mine.”
“Liar!” she screamed, her face twisted in rage and her body shaking with the effort of holding herself up despite being on the precipice of death. “Die, InuYasha!” She loosed her bow, and struck him square in the chest, the spiritual enchantment seeping from the wood into his wound. Had he been a lesser creature, he would have surely have succumbed to her sorcery. Instead, he was InuYasha, greatest of three sons, and he would not be felled by a priestess’s meager attempts at a binding. He removed the arrow, and watched as the priestess succumbed to her injuries and was taken by Death. He watched from the shadows as her younger sister directed the villagers to carry Lady Kikyo’s body to the village burial site and erect a shrine in her name, as she had died for them all. InuYasha scoffed at this notion, as he knew full-well that it was her foolishness that killed her, not some noble sacrifice. He said nothing, however, choosing instead to vacate his once peaceful home, and seek out new refuge. Who knew when the villagers would lose their senses next, heathens as they were?
It wasn’t long after that he came across a slave caravan with a rather…charismatic leader at its head. His name was Hiten, or so he claimed, and he and his brother Manten were transporting slaves to an auction in the East and they knew of a particular Lord who was very interested in pretty things like him, and he should come with them if he knew what was good for him. When he asked why being a slave would be good for him, never mind being this Lord’s slave, Hiten laughed and said: “Better than starving and free, eh? Now get in the cart with the others, pretty boy, and I won’t have to break your pretty little nose.” InuYasha supposed on some level he was right, better to be a slave and relatively comfortable, then be free and starving, though he certainly didn’t think that he was in any danger of such a thing. After all, he was InuYasha, greatest of three sons, and could hunt for himself, thank you very much. This business of nose breaking however was unacceptable, and the very notion that such a thing could occur had to be put to rest…now. So, InuYasha, in retribution to the threat against his perfectly innocent nose, broke Hiten’s forearm, though he did agree to get in the cart without any coercion being necessary. Thunder demons, thought they had to do everything the hard way.
And so, after the auction in the square of Okisangi, a small city to the far east of Sengoku, InuYasha came to be in the service of Lord Yamamoto, who had a penchant for pretty things, and dog demons especially for he was quite fond of their silken silver hair and piercing amber eyes, though he had never truly had the chance to own one as he owned InuYasha. Yes, he had many InuYoukai in his possession, and yes, he used them all for his own pleasures, but they were never his slaves, and he had never had the opportunity to teach them how to please him and only him; they could refuse him at any time because they were highborn and they had each been deflowered by different other lords. Yamamoto owned InuYasha, and the pup could refuse him nothing, though he was InuYasha, the greatest of three sons, and he could technically do anything he pleased, he was fitted with a collar at the auction that made him more…agreeable to his Lord. Besides, Yamamoto had been good to him despite his furious sexual desires and his fascination with the young half-demon’s mouth.
The first time InuYasha was confronted with Lord Yamamoto’s… preoccupation with the orifice on his face, he was terrified. Yes, he’d had many suitors, and yes they had all wanted him sexually, he had never been faced with their lust physically. The only time such an occurrence had come to pass…well needless to say he wasn’t ready for it. His sorrow at the mere suggestion that he pleasure his lord was so apparent, that Lord Yamamoto had immediately scrapped the idea and decided instead to teach the boy about the pleasures of his own flesh with the hope that InuYasha would one day desire to reciprocate. After about a decade, his efforts were rewarded when the little one had pleasured him with his delightful little orifice for the first time. Apprehensive though he was, InuYasha felt that he owed it to his new lord to at least try to please him in the manner in which he desired. From then on these sessions in the throne room were almost as necessary for his lord as the very air he breathed or the food he ate.
It didn’t last long however, as an assault on the Lord’s castle led him to change hands, coming into the service of Lord Kairo and his progeny, which then led him to come into the possession of his alleged elder brother, Lord Sesshomaru. He loved his Lord, all his lords really, and the people that came and went in his life had taught him many lessons, though none so important as this: he who loves blindly will lose, and he who does not love at all has already lost. The informed will always prevail; knowledge is power, and power is power, and he possessed both in great abundance. Thank the Gods.
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A Tale of Tales