Perfect Reflection | By : AngelaBlythe Category: InuYasha > General Views: 1400 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own InuYasha, nor make money from this story. |
CHAPTER 1:
The lord of the castle was also her father. He was known for his handsome features, thick
hair, prowess in battle, and limitless ambition. Growing up she had seen little of him, and
less of her mother. Her mother was a
‘spoil of war’ – the beautiful, engaging daughter of the former lord of the
castle. All Izayoi
could remember of her mother were warm, caring hands, sad smiles, and soft,
coal colored eyes. After Izayoi’s birth her mother left to stay with distant
relatives on the continent; Izayoi was raised by
nursemaids and scholars. The marriage
was a farce, but it was official and contractual and completely binding. And that meant Izayoi
belonged to her father.
Despite her cold, isolated upbringing, Izayoi
was kind and warm. Many agreed that she
took the fine eyes of her mother and rich, dark hair of her father and created
the perfect, porcelain figure of the ideal Japanese noblewoman. She had a beautiful hand for calligraphy,
could play any instrument with ease, and had a soft, lyrical voice that never rose above a whisper.
Her manners were impeccable in every sense of the word. She never misspoke, and every word that left
her mouth was as eloquent and articulate as poetry. Had anyone sought to look beneath this,
however, they would have found a very lonely young woman.
But, unfortunately for Izayoi, no
one ever looked beneath the beautiful mask she created. No one had need. No one loved her. But Izayoi was
content to care for others – children running about the castle, peasants
working in the fields, and wounded warriors.
She tried to find happiness in day-to-day things, and in helping other
people. Many times it was enough. However, there were some times…when it was
not enough, and Izayoi found herself looking out
windows and wishing.
At the age of eight her father absently made marriage plans
to ensure his line. He was a young,
powerful, ambitious man of semi-noble birth from Setsuna. The first day Izayoi
set eyes on Setsuna no Takemaru
she felt a cold chill sweep through the room.
She was very young then, and since she had learned compassion for the
warrior. They had even become friends of
a sort, sharing walks through the castle’s many, well-cared for gardens or
quiet cups of tea.
When Izayoi reached the age of
fifteen her father began waging a war of a grand scale. She knew little of the ways of warfare, other
than war meant long days and nights of loneliness, solitude, and sewing – her
least favorite activity bar none. It
took her father and her fiancé far away from the castle, from her home, for
many years. After two her father
returned, injured from battle. Izayoi spent the rest of his days by his side, caring for
him in ways he never cared for her. She
dressed and changed his wounds, said soft words, read poetry, played music, and
fed him. But these days were few, and he
died one night in her absence.
His passing affected her the way the loss of a distant
cousin or unknown uncle might – minimally.
She was not without sorrow, but she had not known him, nor he known her. And
the war did not end with his death. Setsuna no Takemaru took it up in
her father’s name. Izayoi
was seventeen at the time of her father’s death, and although she was
unmarried, she became lady of castle, and took on the responsibilities of her
father in her future husband’s name.
Though Izayoi had not received
word from her fiancé at the front lines in several months, she still thought he
was alive. She had been receiving
conflicting reports about the war for quite a while, and she was almost used to
the constant worry of death.
Unfortunately, Izayoi had problems of her own
to deal with. Only a skeleton guard had
been left at the castle for emergency purposes, and the rest were children,
women, elderly, or infirm. None would be
any good against what had been ravaging the countryside.
Reports about demons began to reach her ears weeks ago, and
the single, elderly advisor left in the castle recommended holing up inside the
castle and letting the peasants fend for themselves. Izayoi refused to
listen to this heartless advice.
Instead, she began giving away the castle’s private stores to villagers
in the surrounding area who wanted to retreat up into the high mountains for
safety. There were emergency barracks up
there to protect against invasion, but Izayoi
couldn’t think of a better place for the frightened villagers.
Unfortunately, however, this left the castle quite
empty. Only a few guards had stayed
after several of the near villages were attacked. Izayoi was
frightened, but she refused to leave her home.
Sometimes stragglers or injured made their way into the castle and told
tales of terrifying panther demons, and the horrific leader of the panther
demon tribe. “Oyakata,” they whispered in terror. Izayoi
took care of the injured as best she could, and let them escape into the safety
of the mountains if they wished.
One night, after
hearing of a particularly brutal attack on the closest village to the castle,
Izayoi gathered some medical supplies and slipped out of her rooms. “Lady Izayoi,” her single, elderly guard said
quietly. “I cannot permit you to leave
the castle unguarded.”
Izayoi nodded,
and the old guard followed her down to the village. Even after seeing death firsthand several
times, Izayoi could never get used to seeing the children. She did her best with what she had, but she
was no doctor, and he had limited training.
She was joined by another, older woman who seemed to have some experience
in healing. Together they managed to
save a fleeting number of villagers.
“I don’t
understand, Old Mother,” Izayoi said with tears in her eyes. “Why do they not leave for the
mountains? At least there they can
hide…”
The older woman
put a wrinkled hand over Izayoi’s. “My
lady, they stay for the same reason as you.
This is their home. They have
lived here, as their own mothers and fathers, and they wish to die here, as
their own mothers and fathers. Seeing
your kindness and bravery fills them with pride.”
Izayoi smiled
sadly at this and gazed up to the full moon. It was rising over a nearby peak. Suddenly, she gasped and brought her hand to
her mouth. “The panther demon!” the
older woman said faintly. “It must be
him! Quick, my lady! Hide!
Please!”
Izayoi clenched
her hands so hard her nails left imprints on her palms. She gazed at the fearsome figure’s silhoette
in the light of the moon and hardened her resolve. If she could convince the Panther Demon
Tribe’s leader to take her as hostage in exchange for stopping their assult on
her lands, she was sure that Takemaru would pay her randsome. “Take the villagers into the castle, Old
Mother,” she said softly. “I intend to
end this.”
The old woman
gasped and herded the survivors away.
Izayoi’s path was much darker and more difficult than she imagined. The summer heat was oppressive, and even the
cool breeze did nothing against it.
Several times she almost fell on the steepest parts of the climb, but
whenever she looked up she could see the dark silhoette of the leader of the
panther demons. Izayoi hung fast to her
bravery and determination, and when she was finally at the edge of the same
peak as the panther demon, she saw him turn to her and frown before making to
leave.
“Please, my
lord!” she cried out in a trembling voice.
“Please, wait!”
She dabbed her
face with a handkerchief and tucked her hands into her sleeves
submissively. He was not at all what she
expected, and though she didn’t look into his eyes or at his face, she knew him
to be handsome and powerful. He carried
three swords – two at this hip and one on his back – and had very fine, pure
white hair and silvery, white fur draped over his back. He was not at all what she imagined, but she
had never seen such a powerful demon and didn’t really know what to expect.
“My lord,” she
repeated after catching her breath. “I
beg of you, as lady of this castle and these lands, please cease these attacks
on my people. Our men are fighting a
war, and we have little save grain and water – and nothing of value! We cannot protect ourselves. Please, my Lord Oyakata. I will do anything.”
For a moment
there was only the breeze and the moon.
Then, with a deep growl, the demon said in a low voice, “Oyakata!” He growled again and repeated the name. “Oyakata!
This is who you think I am, human?”
Izayoi shuddered
and dropped her to her hands and knees, bowing nicely but still shivering. “My lord!
I apologize to have offended you!
We were told it was Oyakata of the Panther Demon Tribe that attacked our
lands! I did not know it was you, my
lord! Please, forgive my ignorance.”
The demon growled
again. Izayoi was too frightened to look
up, and instead settled her eyes on the demon’s feet. “My lord,” she began in a whisper. “I only wish to protect my people. They have done nothing, and have very little. I will give anything –”
“Silence,” the
demon snarled. Izayoi pressed her head
to her hands and shook. She heard him
sigh. “Stand, human,” the demon
commanded.
Izayoi stood
gracefully, brushing the dirt off her the knees of her kimono. Still, she folded her hands before her to
keep them from shaking and bent her head in respect. “I am not Oyakata, but neither am I the demon
that attacks your lands. I am the Lord
of the Western Lands, Inu no Taishou.”
He did not speak for a moment.
“It seems I have no choice but to slay Oyakata.”
Izayoi forgot
herself and looked up at the Dog General, the Lord of the Western Lands. He stared over her lands in an appraising
way, his golden eyes far away from her.
He struck her as very beautiful at that moment, more so than any man she
had ever seen. And infinitely more
dangerous. She did not know what came
over her, for she was not prone to fits of passion or rude acts. But despite the danger she swept over to him
and took his long-fingered, clawed hand in her tiny, pale hands. He met her eyes, clearly shocked at her
forewardness. “Thank you, my lord,” she
whispered in a rich voice. “Your kindness
will never be forgot in my home, or by my people.”
He said nothing,
but his eyes said everything. Then he
withdrew his hand gently, so as not to scratch her fragile, human skin. Without a word he took off into the air. Izayoi fell to her knees and cried tears of
joy.
While AFF and its agents attempt to remove all illegal works from the site as quickly and thoroughly as possible, there is always the possibility that some submissions may be overlooked or dismissed in error. The AFF system includes a rigorous and complex abuse control system in order to prevent improper use of the AFF service, and we hope that its deployment indicates a good-faith effort to eliminate any illegal material on the site in a fair and unbiased manner. This abuse control system is run in accordance with the strict guidelines specified above.
All works displayed here, whether pictorial or literary, are the property of their owners and not Adult-FanFiction.org. Opinions stated in profiles of users may not reflect the opinions or views of Adult-FanFiction.org or any of its owners, agents, or related entities.
Website Domain ©2002-2017 by Apollo. PHP scripting, CSS style sheets, Database layout & Original artwork ©2005-2017 C. Kennington. Restructured Database & Forum skins ©2007-2017 J. Salva. Images, coding, and any other potentially liftable content may not be used without express written permission from their respective creator(s). Thank you for visiting!
Powered by Fiction Portal 2.0
Modifications © Manta2g, DemonGoddess
Site Owner - Apollo