What the Darkness Brings

What the Darkness Brings
By: I Agree

Disclaimer: I own nothing

PART I: The Consequence of Recovery

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Chapter 2: The Hanyou’s Worst Nightmare

Naturally he was pissed with the miko.

Being put ten feet into the ground – four feet deeper than what humans were buried, mind you! – for no good damn reason would put anyone into a bad temper. Not only that, but he was in a very undesirable spot to be ‘buried’ in. He could hear the Pervert and Sango getting close to the dirty deed not far off. It was a good thing his nose was clogged up with dirt, he didn’t want to scent them. In Kagome’s words, that would be ‘gross.’

Inu-Yasha clawed his way out of the hanyou shaped hole he’d been sentenced to not twenty minutes ago, groaning as his back protested the movements. Thirty ‘sits.’ She had given him thirty ‘sits’ for no reason at all. And then the little twit runs off and goes home. Damn wench. If that was why she ‘sat’ him, why didn’t she just ask? He’d been planning on letting her go home to that damn ‘par-tea’ thing she talked about. He’d even been interested in going with! But no-o-o-o-o-o, the wench had to go and pull some muscle in his back. Bitch. Next time she wanted to go home he was going to clog that damn well with a tree.

A particularly pronounced groan from a certain taijiya had him crawling much faster to the well, ignoring the little twinges of pain his movements caused. He’d rather be in pain than hear that. It took a few moments, but when he was finally far enough away not to hear the activities of his two friends, he slumped down on the ground and waited for his back to heal itself.

The wench was a mystery to him. Obstinate and compliant, violent and tender, the woman was an excess of confusions. To this date he confused the hell out of himself trying to figure out how the hell he could have mistaken her at all for Kikyou. Where Kikyou had been quiet, Kagome was loud. The former was well matured, the latter was in the awkward transition between childhood and adulthood. Where Kikyou’s scent had been sad and achingly lonely, Kagome’s was soothing and loving. Where Kikyou was calm and serene, Kagome was calm and serene one moment and hysterically frantic in another. They were completely the opposite. Why the hell had he been crazy enough to mistake them?

Inu-Yasha sighed and shifted to a more comfortable position, wincing as his back protested. He supposed it didn’t matter anyway. The Kikyou he knew now was nothing like the one he knew then. He couldn’t love her anymore. She was vindictive and bent on taking him to hell. He really didn’t want to go to hell. It was nice up here on Earth.

The old Kikyou, the priestess he knew before she had pinned him to the tree, was the miko he loved. She was sweet and loving, eager to please and submissive, yet she could dominate him with her powers. She was a rare wine for him, a woman he was forbidden to have. He’d loved her almost instantly. Now all he could do was remember and mourn.

He’d thought of making Kagome her replacement for some months after he’d realized Kikyou had died. As bad as it sounded, he’d only cared that Kagome looked like his former love. Being a reincarnation she could have been perfect for it. But Kagome had been raised in a different time, where women were equal and could dominate a relationship. This made her unpredictable and never quiet, always speaking her mind. Not to mention Kagome was the type to dominate. It was that, among other things, which put him off from going after her. He was the dominant one, not she. (And it wasn’t because he was UNABLE to dominate her!… he just… didn’t want to… he was nice like that…)

A particularly painful twinge told him his back had completely healed itself. Gratefully, Inu-Yasha stood and stretched moaning with the pleasurable cracking. With an evil smile, the inu hanyou bound off in the direction of the well, determined to get the wayward miko back to this time no matter how much she ranted and raved. He would let her go back of course, but it would teach her to mess with him for no reason at all.

Jumping from tree to tree, the hanyou happily went through the plan in his mind. From ‘kidnapping’ the miko when no one was looking to shoving her down the ten foot deep hole that she had created with her painful sits and running far enough away so he wouldn’t be sat. That would completely make his day. He would wait and hour or two (possibly even go to the par-tea!) before coming back and ‘rescuing’ her, holding her so she couldn’t use the cursed word, then dropping her off among her friends so again she couldn’t sit him. Yeah, that would amuse him…

A glimmer of something ahead of him had Inu-Yasha stopping short just quickly enough to not slam into a black barricade of some sort. Confused, he reached out and touched the wall. He yelped when a sharp zap of energy seared his skin. Growling in irritation, the inu hanyou pulled out Tetsuseiga and concentrated enough energy into the fang to turn it into the red colored barrier breaker. With a single swing the painful barrier was gone to be replaced by the stench of Naraku.

Panic swept though him, “KAGOME!”

Running at speeds he’d never gotten to before, Inu-Yasha searched for his dear friends scent amidst his mortal enemies smell. Why hadn’t he scented something before? Why hadn’t he HEARD something before? He was going to kill Miroku and Sango later if Kagome was hurt!

Skidding to a halt next to the Well, Inu-Yasha finally got a whiff of the one he sought. The well, her scent trail ended in the well. Relief swept through him, almost forcing him to his knees. She made it to the well, she got out, Naraku didn’t get her. He slumped down next to the well, all the energy having left his body with the abrupt absence of adrenaline. He leaned his forehead against the lip of the well and took a deep breath. Only to find that something wasn’t natural. Kagome’s scent was still too present to be… gone. Slowly he moved to look over into the depths of the well. His heart jumped to his throat at the green at the bottom of the well. He jumped down.

Frantic fingers ghosted over the prone form of his best friend, trying desperately to find out what was wrong with her without damaging her fragile body anymore. His hands could find nothing wrong with her. No life threatening scratches or bruises adorned her body, nothing that she hadn’t had worse of in the time she’d been in the past. But his ears and nose told him of a different story. Her heart wasn’t beating correctly, and her breathing was entirely too shallow. Her scent was clouded with pain and terror. He needed to get her to help and he needed to do it quickly.

As carefully as he was able, Inu-Yasha slid his arm under the young miko’s shoulders and his other under her knees. He winced at the slight crack he heard coming from her spine as he rose, cursing himself for being too rough with her. Figuring he could do more damage to her than what he’d done just before, the inu hanyou leapt out of the well and made a mad dash to old lady Kaede’s hut, cursing whatever movement he made which caused his best friend more injury. When he finally broke through the tree line of his forest and caught sight of the old lady’s shed Inu-Yasha breathed a sigh of relief and sped up shouting the old miko’s name.

“I am not deaf, Inu-Yasha,” The old woman’s voice reprimanded from inside the hut as soon as he’d hit the deck of the hut.

The tone was sarcastic, but Inu-Yasha didn’t bother to yell at the old woman for disrespecting him. Instead he shouldered the tatami mat covering the doorway to the side and stalked indoors. “Kagome’s hurt.”

His announcement caught the old hags attention and stunned silence reigned as he went to the corner where Kagome kept her sleeping bag, kicking it open. As gently as he could he rested the unconscious time traveler on the down blanket. His face contorted with rage and regret as he heard the bones somewhere in her body once again crack in protest. All at once, the whole room seemed to be a flurry of movement and sound that he could not properly process. Shippou’s wails of whatever he was saying were the loudest in his ear, drowning out most everything else. Akane, Kaede’s recently obtained apprentice, tried to consol the fox youkai while also trying to aid her master. Kaede herself knelt down beside him and began to both talk to him and examine Kagome.

But he couldn’t hear anything, he couldn’t see anything other than the still form of his best friend lying before him. She was barely even breathing correctly now, her breaths were too sporadic. Was she really dying? Was she really slipping away from him as his mother had those many years ago? Were the gods taking yet another person vital to his life? Were they using Naraku to rip his heart into more pieces than it already was? The claws of his fingers dug ruthlessly into his palms at the thought, but he barely flinched with the pain. A pulse at his side from the Tetsuseiga gave the warning that he had better calm before it was forced to suppress his demonic nature, but he barely registered the swords call through his rage and misery.

“Inu-Yasha.”

His red hued gaze snapped to the elderly woman sitting tensely beside him, and his nose took in the scent of despair she was radiating. His heart fell to his stomach and his voice came out as a growl, “What is it? What’s wrong with her?”

“There is nothing I can do for her, and it is too dangerous for ye to move her. Her spine has been compromised.”

Inu-Yasha growled, transferring his fear into anger, “What the hell are you trying to say, hag?”

“She-“ Kaede’s voice hitched for a moment, “Inu-Yasha… Kagome is going to die.”

~

In his life he’d only once asked the gods for anything and he had quickly learned his lesson that day.

When he’d turned eight, he had run away. The boys living with them at the compound had been making fun of him again and, per his mother, he was unable to fight back. They were weaker than he, they couldn’t defend themselves. He took his rage out on himself instead, running aimlessly into the youkai infested forest surrounding the complex. He’d ignored his mothers shouts of warning as he’d gone. The rain had begun.

It was a cold night and he’d gone far from home. His mother had followed him; he had known that she would. It had been the only reason he’d run so far away from his home, his mother would surely find him if he got lost. His mother always found him.

But the weather had turned for the worst, and he’d found his mother trembling in the cold, scratches all over her body from demonic attacks. After apologizing and crying profusely to her, he’d guided her back home, swearing that he would never run again. As usual his mother had given him a light but effective reprimand as they traveled home, sending the little hanyou into a depression. A depression which only worsened when his mother fell ill.

At first, the sickness had been mild. All the healers, miko’s and houshi’s had all said it was just a severe cold. She would be healed with the proper teas and ointments. Before long however, the sickness ravaging her body became increasingly worse and nothing they could to could help her. His mother had been dying of pneumonia and he was watching her waste away.

He could remember her putting up a good front whenever he was around. She would always smile merrily and tell him silly anecdotes, hiding her coughs from his sensitive hearing. She was her normal self whenever she was around. He’d fallen for it for some time, weeks even. It wasn’t until the scent of death started to permeate from the gentle smell of his mothers flesh that he realized exactly how dire her sickness was. He’d demanded to know what was wrong with her, why she wasn’t getting better. Her reply terrified him. ‘I’m only human, Inu-Yasha.’

After that declaration he hadn’t left her side unless it was absolutely necessary, not wanting any last moment with her wasted. He remained even when her caretakers demanded that he leave, threatening him with a beating or to send him off to bed without his evening meal. He stayed with her even as she passed on to the next world, her hand in his and a loving smile on her face.

It was when he watched her being placed on a pedestal, her body motionless and skin pale that he began to beg the gods to return his mother to him. He begged for them to bring back his only friend and the only one who loved him. He didn’t want to be alone in this world, he didn’t want his mother to be gone. But his words had gone unheeded and he’d had to watch as his mother was put up in flames.

He’d learned his lesson: Ask the gods for nothing. He’d stuck by this lesson for the rest of his life, not even honoring the gods that ‘graced’ him with their presence. No. They were worthless and cruel, they didn’t deserve the ‘honor’ and ‘praise’ they wanted. But now he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t even remember the simplest of his life-lessons. His heart stopped beating. His lungs stopped functioning. The blood in his veins ran cold.

And he prayed, ‘Please gods let her be alright.’

~

Pain. Oh she was in so much pain. Her world was filed with the dreaded feeling.

Her fingertips tingled harshly but tolerably so compared to the other things she was experiencing. Her head felt like it could burst with the agony she was in and her spine felt like it was being torn out. These didn’t frighten her, not at all. What she feared, was her legs numbing.

That wasn’t good. It wasn’t good at all. With all the information she’d gotten from those first aid classes her mother had requested she take, she could recall very easily that not being able to feel something that was supposed to be in pain was not good. She had hurt her spine. She was going to be at best paralyzed. At the worst, she was going to die.

Kagome prayed for that outcome.

It wasn’t right, she knew, to pray for her own demise. Her life was not her own. People still loved her and needed her. Her life belonged to them. She had her duties as well. She still had to piece together the Shikon no Tama and purify it. It was her fault it was in pieces. She still had her family and friends. She didn’t want Souta or Shippou to grow up without her in their lives.

But this pain. It was so intense. Even in her mind she couldn’t escape the torment she was being put through. No one in this time could heal her of what was ailing her. In her own time it was highly illogical she would be healed enough to the point so she could live without pain. So she prayed for her death, and prayed for in to come quickly. She didn’t want to suffer any longer. She didn’t want to be paralyzed for the rest of her life. She didn’t want for her friends to suffer as she suffered. If she died, they would at least know she was no longer in any pain.

So she prayed for it. She hoped beyond hope: ‘Please. Let me die.’

~

The screams of pain had been echoing throughout the compound for hours. She was almost certain her hearing was going to suffer for this.

Lately, the screams were quieter, becoming hoarse, but it was expected. After all, the wind witch was loud and very vocal with her pain. It was rather interesting in a grotesque sort of way to hear how long a woman could scream. The top time so far had been for two whole minutes.

Charlotte repressed a sigh as she twisted a lock of her black hair about her finger. Trying to pass the time by ignoring the fuming hanyou was quite difficult. After all, he was muttering to himself in a rage and squeezing the heart of the poor incarnation of wind. Really, it was quite stupid to pointlessly abuse his lackeys; they were the ones who helped him out after all and such good help is so hard to find. It was very obvious that the woman loathed him already. Torturing her wouldn’t make her like him. The English woman frowned at the thought. Well, maybe they had different customs here, she wasn’t entirely sure. Was giving pain something intimate? She knew it could be in England… but that was a different matter entirely.

She clucked her tongue and shook her head, tossing the strands of hair over her shoulder. It was a complete mistake coming to this small country. Not two days inland and she was the captive to a maniacal half demon with too many screws loose in his skull. She blamed Sebastian. He wanted to her to ‘taste the delights of the world.’ Stupid git. Oh she was ‘tasting the delights’ alright. This was delightfully horrid. If she ever got home she was going to put a spell on him so horrible no woman would look at him again. It would serve him right for getting rid of her so he could take a few dips with several different women. Really were all men such pigs?

A particularly piercing shriek from the elemental demon brought Charlotte violently back to the present. Grey eyes took in the sight of the other woman curled up on the floor, clutching at her chest where her heart should have been. A twinge of pity ran through her. Really, misplaced anger was not very healthy. Naraku was pissed with her, the elemental had nothing to do with his rage.

And even then, it wasn’t her fault that his plan had failed. She had done everything according to plan. Except for perhaps getting hurt. That wasn’t in the plan at all, and her side was still wounded. It wasn’t normal either, the magic in her blood would always heal her. But for some reason, the magic in her refused to go there again. Which pissed her off royally. Naraku had miscalculated the girl’s power. He had miscalculated the *girl*. Therefore she in turn had not been as on guard as she should have been and had been badly wound. It was his fault, not hers.

The foreign woman sighed and focused her gaze on the owner of her life. She had questions for him, and she would be damned if she wasn’t going to get the answers to them. “I thought you were certain of the girls ‘incompetence’.”

Red eyes snapped to her and glared menacingly, squeezing the heart in his hand hard enough for the wind witch –Kagura was it? – to pass out. “It would not have mattered if anyone was injured so long as the wench had remained in her time.”

She raised an eyebrow, “It would have worked had you fully known the extent of her powers.”

The shape-shifting hanyou growled menacingly at her, “I told you the extent of her powers, woman! This power was new and different from anything she has shown before!”

“No it isn’t you moron!” She snapped without thinking, “A person of energy does not gain or loose any power unless it is by a source foreign to their bodies. There was nothing there to give her any more power.”

A menacing light entered her ‘masters’ eyes and he gently (ironic) replaced the barely beating heart of Kagura into a small vase, “A miko has as much power as the gods grant her!”

Charlotte frowned, “A ‘miko’? I don’t understand that word. Are there any English translations for it?”

A smirk of superiority touched the others lips, “A miko can be translated as a priestess or a witch.”

Shock shuddered through her system before rage took its place. Acting upon her anger, Charlotte shot up from where she sat and glared down at the abominable hanyou, her hands clenched at her sides, “A PRIESTESS?! You had me pitted against a PRIESTESS?!”

Naraku raised an eyebrow, “Why not? I am a demon after all and I do control you for the time being.”

Her anger burned even hotter and she began to pace the floor around the unconscious elemental, “I am a dark witch, my powers come from the same place as you demon half was spawned.”

“Calm yourself, woman.” A flash of metal caught her attention and a cold shudder echoed up her spine. Her grey eyes snapped to her jailor and widened at the sight of a small silver box in his hands. She glared at him, but complied, sitting down where she had been before. She sneered at his superior smirk, but did not dare to test him. He had already displayed his willingness to torture his underlings, she did not want her life to end prematurely.

Naraku smirked horribly, “Now, you will tell me what you meant by your last exclamation.”

She debated not telling him, but his long fingers caressed the lid of the small box in warning. She gave him a withering glare, “Dark magic is utterly useless against those connected with their god or gods. Holy magic with humans are usually stronger than dark energy. Especially if those people are highly favored by the gods.”

A fang flashed with a wicked grin, “Pity. But I am curious. Are you telling me that you are of no use to me?”

Slight fear took hold of her, but she didn’t show it out of self-preservation. “Perhaps.”

The smirk widened frighteningly as the clawed fingers of her ‘master’ tightened on the lid. “Very well then.”

~

Naraku eyed the tiny foreign demon feasting upon the burnt flesh of the now dead English witch, amusement glittering in his eye. That had been… interesting. He hadn’t known that such a small creature could hold so much power over one with more… power. He would have to keep that in mind.

The hanyou sighed and shifted his attention to a more important issue. The failure of his latest plan. It had been unexpected, to say the least. He had thought a foreigners magic was much more powerful than it was. Though perhaps it was just the woman who was weak, he wasn’t too sure about that.

Nevertheless whatever had caused the malfunction it had only served to almost completely reverse his plot. He did not have the jewel shards, but instead they rejected him. The well was not closed with the futuristic miko stuck in the future, but instead the well was closed with the girl stuck in the past. But most importantly, unless the girl died, she had gained a power even stronger than his. The only good aspect of this situation was the girl was direly wounded and would possibly not survive. While it was not his intention to kill the one who held his Kikyou’s soul, it would serve his purpose.

The only thing he could do now was to try to understand exactly what had happened.

But what did happen? What exactly was that power which had burned him so much he could still feel its pain? It had come and gone so quickly he could not get a proper feel for the energy. Not only ‘what was it’ but where did it come from? The foreign witch had been right, no one’s power got stronger or weaker, it was either repressed or released. The miko did have much repressed powers, but the energy which had attacked him was not hers. It was something else, something that almost felt like the Shikon no Tama.

Naraku frowned. Of course it couldn’t be. The Shikon was a collection of demonic souls and a single soul of a miko. The demonic aura’s should have suppressed the miko’s powers with their own strength and they would not aid a priestess. After all they had been trying to kill the legendary priestess Midoriko, why help the one who could possibly be the incarnation of both Kikyou and the current Shikon no Miko?

So what was it? What had given the priestess her new edge? And how, oh how, could he turn it against her?

The little foreign imp caught his eye as it dragged the witches intestine to the corner of the room. Naraku snorted in amusement, enjoying the sight of the witch being torn apart slowly. It would be much more satisfying if she were still alive, but then beggars can’t be choosers after all.

His amusement faded to curiosity however as the little imp tipped over a decorative vase belonging to the previous lord of the castle. The delicate thing shattered into tiny bits releasing what was within and startling the imp enough to make it skitter away with the organ still in its jaws. As the small thing disappeared into the body of the dead witch, Naraku eyed the bit of rolled up yellow parchment. It held no scent, and there wasn’t even the aura of the person who wrote the thing. Instead, the silvery ribbon tied around the scroll exuded a magic he hadn’t felt in years. A Fate’s magic? Why would a simple lord have a bit of Fate magic it his home?

Frowning, Naraku stood and approached the shattered glass, ignoring the tiny shards as they broke into his flesh. Gracefully he bent down and picked up the aged parchment. With a well honed claw he sliced through the ribbon and magic, barely wincing at the sharp rebuke of pain he received. Shaking it off, the hanyou opened the parchment and swept his gaze over what was within.

Red eyes widened in surprise.

Moments later, an all too familiar evil chuckle echoed through the compound.

AAAAAA

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