She looked so much like her that he just couldn't help himself. [DARK Inu/Kag]
Warnings: Non-graphicRape, Violence, Language
Pairing: One sided Inu/Kag, mentions of Inu/Kikyo
Summary: She looked so much like her that he just couldn't help himself.
The Wicked One
As the dust faded and the sun set the years of grief and pain had finally ended. Truly she was able to relax now, her journey ended with the outcome that she had so desperately longed for the last three years.
The carnage had yet to be shown. The sky was leaked with red, looking as if the sky itself had been torn in two. She wouldn't have doubted it though. Not with the way things had ended up.
Three nights of endless battles. Countless demons slaughtered, countless wounds taken, blood loss that would rival that of a god. It was worth it all now though. Everything. She could finally rest knowing that Naraku would no longer cause the pain that he had inflicted upon so many.
They had fought for revenge, for love, for hope. She had only fought to make sure no one else would have to suffer the way they had. She wanted to protect the future generations from this unspeakable evil.
The sad thing was...she would be remembered as the wicked one. The one who had taken out the loved priestess Kikyo. Her name would go down to be hated by all those who read her tale.
She liked to believe it didn't bother her.
Pretending to be okay was easy for her. Everyone saw her smiling face, her careless laughter. They had yet to see the pain buried in her soul. It was hers to face though, hers and hers alone. They could finally be happy. It wasn't her right to hurt them with her story.
As the dust cleared she was able to take in the extent of the damage. It was like a kick in the face, the breath fled from her lungs as she struggled against the bile that rose to her throat. She wanted to scream. She wanted Naraku back so she could have her chance at revenge now. Her earlier thoughts be damned.
Shippo. Sango. Miroku. They had all been there from the beginning. She fought for them. For the kids they were going to have, for the future they wanted to secure. It was all for nothing now.
No. She couldn't believe that. She wouldn't be able to go on if she let herself think they had all done this for naught.
She bit her lip till she tasted the bitter tang of blood on her tongue. She was strong now. She could still have a part in the future they wanted to live. In securing this world's timeline then sometime in the near future the peaceful home they wanted would be created.
The shikon could bring them back, the traitorous part of her mind whispered.
But it isn't mine to use, the innocent, loyal part hissed back.
A tired smile found its place stretching her lips. Dragging herself off the ground she stumbled over to the various places where her friends had fallen. As silent tears slid from eyes swollen eyes she closed the eyes of her loved ones. They had done so much, come so far. But they had died knowing that they were fighting the way they wanted. So...she couldn't really be sad could she? Or...maybe she was just trying to avoid the flood of grief that would wash over her as she lie in her sleeping bag.
Sango had died for her. She should have known that with the girl's wounds she wouldn't survive. But...Sango hadn't wanted to see Kohaku's death a second time. She had confided in Kagome that she wouldn't, could not; watch her baby brother fade away again. It all had taken its toll on her; she had begun to lose weight, her eyes taking on a tired, desperate look.
She had to watch painfully as Sango slowly chipped away at her sanity.
In the end she had taken one of Naraku's tentacles through her stomach. The sickening crunch that had erupted from it echoed in her mind as she placed Sango's hands over her stomach, wiping away the grim on her once lively face. She had watched as Sango stumbled away, clutching her stomach Hirakotsu in her free hand. There hadn't been anything she could have done. Sango had attacked her when she tried to hold the older woman back.
They had shared their dreams. Their secrets. It was hard to let go. She couldn't breathe, it raised a lump in the back of her throat that stop her air flow. Tears blurred her vision as she crawled along the ground to where Miroku's body lay.
The monk had always been perverted. He was like her older brother though, a brother who groped her whenever he got a chance. He had always been the most level headed of the group, when he wasn't off gallivanting around that is. He had been the first of many friends. There was a hole where his throat should've been. She couldn't bring herself to look at it. She couldn't bring herself to touch the still form. A sob broke free as she clutched uselessly at the purple robes. She alone knew why Miroku was always with so many women.
In the end no one wanted to die feeling unloved.
Shippo...her son. The fox kit had come to mean so much to her. His tiny body was cradled in her hands now, the still form cooling rapidly against her overheated flesh. She bit the insides of her cheeks as she sobbed, openly now, over the tiny body. He always had her smiling in the darkest of times, the little tricks he ended up with always seeming to bring a smile. Even Inuyasha had laughed as their journey wore on.
Inuyasha...he wasn't anywhere to be found. He refused to look at her. Or speak with her. The thought that his love had so easily become hatred cut her deeply. It wouldn't do for her to cry over him now though, the professions of love sounding hollow to her ears now. She couldn't be with him. Not now. Or ever. His heart was still held by Kikyo. She was there first. She was his first. The first to accept him, the first to love him, the first...to anything.
Kikyo had tried to take her life. Though her body was no longer her own, nor was her mind. Inuyasha refused to see it though. He refused to believe that Naraku now had complete control over Kikyo. He had stood in front of her, even defended her after the arrow sprouted from his chest.
Her side throbbed in time with her steps. There was a wound from her collarbone to her naval, sure to leave a scar. Deep enough to leave a scar and bleed enough to have her worried. She ignored it for now.
The bodies felt like lead, her tiny frame barely able to drag them into the brush. She wouldn't allow them to be eaten by animals. Or worms. This was the only way in her mind. She would leave a marker though, something that would stand out for them. Hopefully it withstood five hundred years time.
The fire burned brightly, hotly. It lit up the sky, the merry crackling angering her further. The smell of charred flesh clogged her senses, had tears streaming from her eyes. She wouldn't leave though. She owed them that.
She made camp there, though she was forced to run back to gather what little had survived Naraku's attack. Her side was bandaged messily now, though it had staunched the bleeding. It would have to do. She had to deal with her broken ribs though, but she hadn't anything to stop the pain. Each breath irritated her broken bones, the ribs digging painfully against one another or against her lungs.
The stars shone brightly in the milky sky. Clouds were thick overhead making the sky a gorgeous blue and as she lay on her back staring into the unknown she felt as though nothing had happened. It was like they were together again; the crackling fire meant for the ramen that Inuyasha always wanted. She could almost her Sango's indignant shout, Shippo's giggle, and Miroku's innocent pleas that it had meant nothing at all.
But as she came down from her high it only furthered the hurt. It was like she had lost a piece of herself now. There was no physical hole but emotionally there felt like a gaping wound had been dug into her. There were no tears now, no sobs. It was like she was a husk now, a shell of whom she had been or who she could be. Whatever happened next might be the defining factor that would put the pieces of herself back together. Or shatter them completely.
As the sound of the fire died down the crackling remained. Her heart speed up painfully in her chest as adrenaline shot through her veins. The hair on the back of her neck rose, her own breath harsh in her ears.
The haze clouded his mind, his thought process sluggish and unknown. He could barely see around the fuzzy red in his vision. His heart hammered painfully in his chest, his body demanding this flesh. The body before him was so familiar that it ached. He had known her! He did know her...? Nostalgia tingled at the edge of his senses, but teasingly it remained out of his grasp. She looked so much like...like who?
Like her. Kikyo. It was her! It had to be! She had waited for him after all!
The words were harsh as if used by a voice that was unaccustomed to speech. The words grated over his throat causing an ache to surface. The form had to be her, his mind supplied. How could it not be? There was only one Kikyo, only one person who looked like her this much!
The woman, Kikyo, stepped back. Why wasn't she running to great him? His Kikyo should've been groveling before him!
The vertical stripes and blood red eyes meant one thing to her. It only left that thought for her mind to process. Yet the logical mind screamed at her that if she ran he would consider her prey. But he thought she was Kikyo...so would he really harm her?
If he found out he would, he'd kill you! Her mind spoke up once more, confirming her fears about this Inuyasha.
She ran a hand nervous through her hair as she worried her lower lip. She wanted to bolt, to just get away. She was terrified. She wouldn't get far though, her body protested each movement. Running was out of the question and she wouldn't get anywhere with walking. Her miko powers were sapped.
Her nails dug into the palms of her hands, she loathed herself as she bit back the urge to start sobbing. She knew that he would be able to smell the salt in the air and it made the sting of her weakness all the worse.
The innocence with which this question was said caused the hole to worsen. He was so child like now that he thought she was the woman he loved. He was so caring, even in this state. His eyes were wide and full of concern. He really didn't understand why she feared him.
She didn't trust herself to answer, she just bit her lip and backed farther away. Maybe if she was lucky he'd lose interest and think her the wrong person. Which gave way to more terrifying thoughts.
She had no luck though as she felt clawed hands dig into the soft flesh of her upper arm. A gasp escaped as she felt blood trail from the tiny puncture wounds that his claws caused. She whimpered as she tried not to fall to her knees, Sesshomaru had once explained to her about the demon's need for its mate to submissive. It'd only further his impression that she was Kikyo.
As he jerked her off the ground she cried out as she felt her shoulder pulled from its socket. Tears leaked from the corner of her eyes as she felt his penetrating gaze on her, his ears swiveled madly on his head, eyes narrowing with suspicion.
She screamed as she felt the hot lips on her own, her body rebelling immediately to the unwanted intrusion. Her legs kicked wildly at his as she heard him grunt before he threw her to the ground.
Her eyes widened as she thought she was able to see the anger he was radiating. She had defied him. She should've just played along and then slipped away. It would be far worse now.
Whimpering she clawed at the ground as he covered her tiny body with his larger one. Now that she had already fought against him the instinct was in full force as she bit and clawed at the hands that tore her clothing.
The cold air on her naked skin awoke the fear in her that let her know what was going to happen. He thought she was Kikyo...so in his mind she belonged to him and by defying him she had to be punished.
Her mind screamed that this wasn't happening. That this wasn't possible. It couldn't be. The man whom she had loved couldn't be intending to rape her. There was no possible way.
Again she was reminded how painfully alike she and Kikyo looked.
"Stop! S-Stop Inu...please! Let me go...!"
The words fell upon deaf ears as she felt calloused hands run along her sides, slice open the bra that hid her modesty. As reality set in she bucked against the hips that held her down.
The words were murmured lovingly against her skin, a rough tongue tracing a path from her throat to her collarbone. He paid no heed to the wounds that she had. Saliva caused the open wound to burn as she sobbed helplessly against the form.
HE was too strong. She couldn't do anything no matter how hard she tried. Her powers had deserted her as she bit the shoulder that was near her. She gasped in pain as she was backhanded harshly.
Clawed hands dragged harshly along her taut stomach, angry lines of red awakening. Blood pooled sluggishly along the lines as he lapped at her stomach, a sound of appreciation surfacing.
Tears no longer came, there was no energy with which they could surface. It wasn't worth it. Crying would take energy that she just didn't have anymore. The form that lay next to her, the arm that held her possessively felt too surreal. They didn't seem real, or solid. She had the notion that if she touched his body he would disappear.
So she did.
The bitter taste of sorrow weigh heavily on her tongue as she uncurled the arm from around her bruised waist. She picked up the tattered remains of her clothing as she crawled away from him.
He had betrayed her in the worst possible way. He had taken something special from her. Had taken it ruthlessly and had thought that he held another woman beneath him.
For once she was glad that Kikyo wasn't alive anymore. No one deserved that and if Kikyo had been alive she felt sure Kikyo would have been forced through it.
So she believed that she had saved Kikyo from this fate. Had saved her from the rape by one she loved.
So she let herself believe this. It made it easier to swallow. Not really. But she let herself believe that as well.
She let herself play pretend once more. She let herself pretend that it wouldn't hurt when she read about the wicked priestess that had taken the life of the great priestess Kikyo. She let herself pretend that it wouldn't hurt when she made the nightmares came.
She would play pretend with the form that grew inside her now as well. She would pretend that the man had loved her and died a heroic death.
She felt no sorrow as she felt his life force fade. She felt no bitterness towards him.
She had taken his life. Just like he had taken hers.
A/N: This was a one shot.