Categories > Anime/Manga > Inuyasha
Title: Cynical
Characters: Sesshoumaru, Kagura
Rating: G
Wordcount: 876
Summary: Kagura-centric. To be killed by the thing I wanted most is one of the many renditions of irony.
I was composed out from the wind purely to serve Naraku. He threw me away, heaving and covered in muck, and he gave me my bone fan and my name-- Kagura, of the wind. For a few seconds I was grateful he gave me life, grateful I actually existed - and then his hand plunged past my ribs and plucked my heart and put it in a jar, and I was left with just my mind and soul and a great hollow chest.
I accomplished anything he asked of me. I had nothing else to do-- besides, being suddenly devoid of a heart wasn't that much of an issue then. And then I spoke back to him, and he clenched his fist and I felt pain like never before-- like my very life was being squashed, condensed into a little scrap before he relaxed his hand and my void chest felt like it was going to implode. I finally got the notion that I was, in essence, his slave. I didn't like it.
I was something of a coward-- just this one punishment and already I'm scrambling to mutiny. But the possibility of having to endure that utterly tormenting pain again scared me witless, and I started to plot against him. Wind isn't supposed to be caged, because then it just turns into air, into the listlessness of my pale older sister, Kanna. I didn't want to be caged. I wanted to be free, and freedom was always just out of reach, agonizingly and frustratingly close but still not /close enough/. I was sure it'd come closer eventually, then I'd seize it by the neck and never let it go.
And then I met him-- I could see freedom just oozing from the perfect, porcelain face of that bastard Sesshoumaru, the icy taiyoukai with an empty sleeve and two swords.
I didn't know what to think. He was a strange one-- a cold man with an even colder heart, vicious and ever so elegant. Of course he had a heart. It's hard to steal something covered in ice and the blood of hundreds slain. My own chest was filled with naught but an empty space, and what it was supposed to contain was in a jar far away leaking life's blood all over its ragged coverings.
Sesshoumaru could've killed Naraku for me. Sesshoumaru could've slaughtered the poisonous bastard and returned my heart-- probably after stomping on it too, but it wouldn't be worth his time to even bother going near one of the most freakish half-breeds in existence.
Shikon shards might sway him, I thought; but they didn't do a damn thing. Tch. Of course Sesshoumaru wouldn't want them. He didn't have need of them, therefore no want of them either; why would the undisputed Lord of the West covet a couple of shards of a few cursed and tainted souls?
According to him, freedom wasn't worth having if it wasn't earned, every blood-soaked step of the way. If I died on the way, what did it matter to him? If I couldn't get freedom myself, obviously I wasn't worthy of it. The frigid bastard didn't take the shards, and I went back to Naraku's castle with a tight feeling squeezing the vacant area behind my ribs, although the taiyoukai didn't actually say anything about me not coming back to talk.
Stupid Kohaku-- stupid me trying to protect a dead boy with glass pieces in his neck and letting him escape.
Naraku, you murdering, sick half-breed. Give my heart back, allow me to flee and let me have three whole seconds before you pump me full of miasma, you generous pig. Now the thing that kept me alive was now killing me from the inside. I couldn't throw this fragile organ away again, willing or no-- it was rotting anyway, so I fled into an empty meadow. If I was going to die, I might as well do it some place nice.
Damn Sesshoumaru. Trust him to come out just now when my very essence is leaking away, and I have but a little while to live. I was bitter, because I thought he had come tracking Naraku and found his dying spawn dirtying the air instead.
Annoying tricking bastard. Of course he knew he had been following me and not my maker. Silly me, not thinking Sesshoumaru capable of distinguishing my scent from Naraku's stench. But at least he came anyway. I was glad.
My throat was burning, and to breath was to scorch my fading lungs while blood trickled from the corners of my mouth, proof of the bite marks on the inside of my cheeks from withstanding the pain. I breathed anyway. Sure, dying quickly to end the pain was one thing, but it sure as hell wasn't anything else except for suffocating like Naraku was squeezing my heart again.
Oh, irony. Blue skies and flowers in full bloom-- how very different from my bleeding and disappearing state of existence. At least Sesshoumaru was here, instead of guarding that little human girl Rin who got the toad into trouble constantly. Where was she, anyway?
It didn't matter. I smiled as I was swept away in the wind, with Sesshoumaru's upturned face watching after me.
Characters: Sesshoumaru, Kagura
Rating: G
Wordcount: 876
Summary: Kagura-centric. To be killed by the thing I wanted most is one of the many renditions of irony.
I was composed out from the wind purely to serve Naraku. He threw me away, heaving and covered in muck, and he gave me my bone fan and my name-- Kagura, of the wind. For a few seconds I was grateful he gave me life, grateful I actually existed - and then his hand plunged past my ribs and plucked my heart and put it in a jar, and I was left with just my mind and soul and a great hollow chest.
I accomplished anything he asked of me. I had nothing else to do-- besides, being suddenly devoid of a heart wasn't that much of an issue then. And then I spoke back to him, and he clenched his fist and I felt pain like never before-- like my very life was being squashed, condensed into a little scrap before he relaxed his hand and my void chest felt like it was going to implode. I finally got the notion that I was, in essence, his slave. I didn't like it.
I was something of a coward-- just this one punishment and already I'm scrambling to mutiny. But the possibility of having to endure that utterly tormenting pain again scared me witless, and I started to plot against him. Wind isn't supposed to be caged, because then it just turns into air, into the listlessness of my pale older sister, Kanna. I didn't want to be caged. I wanted to be free, and freedom was always just out of reach, agonizingly and frustratingly close but still not /close enough/. I was sure it'd come closer eventually, then I'd seize it by the neck and never let it go.
And then I met him-- I could see freedom just oozing from the perfect, porcelain face of that bastard Sesshoumaru, the icy taiyoukai with an empty sleeve and two swords.
I didn't know what to think. He was a strange one-- a cold man with an even colder heart, vicious and ever so elegant. Of course he had a heart. It's hard to steal something covered in ice and the blood of hundreds slain. My own chest was filled with naught but an empty space, and what it was supposed to contain was in a jar far away leaking life's blood all over its ragged coverings.
Sesshoumaru could've killed Naraku for me. Sesshoumaru could've slaughtered the poisonous bastard and returned my heart-- probably after stomping on it too, but it wouldn't be worth his time to even bother going near one of the most freakish half-breeds in existence.
Shikon shards might sway him, I thought; but they didn't do a damn thing. Tch. Of course Sesshoumaru wouldn't want them. He didn't have need of them, therefore no want of them either; why would the undisputed Lord of the West covet a couple of shards of a few cursed and tainted souls?
According to him, freedom wasn't worth having if it wasn't earned, every blood-soaked step of the way. If I died on the way, what did it matter to him? If I couldn't get freedom myself, obviously I wasn't worthy of it. The frigid bastard didn't take the shards, and I went back to Naraku's castle with a tight feeling squeezing the vacant area behind my ribs, although the taiyoukai didn't actually say anything about me not coming back to talk.
Stupid Kohaku-- stupid me trying to protect a dead boy with glass pieces in his neck and letting him escape.
Naraku, you murdering, sick half-breed. Give my heart back, allow me to flee and let me have three whole seconds before you pump me full of miasma, you generous pig. Now the thing that kept me alive was now killing me from the inside. I couldn't throw this fragile organ away again, willing or no-- it was rotting anyway, so I fled into an empty meadow. If I was going to die, I might as well do it some place nice.
Damn Sesshoumaru. Trust him to come out just now when my very essence is leaking away, and I have but a little while to live. I was bitter, because I thought he had come tracking Naraku and found his dying spawn dirtying the air instead.
Annoying tricking bastard. Of course he knew he had been following me and not my maker. Silly me, not thinking Sesshoumaru capable of distinguishing my scent from Naraku's stench. But at least he came anyway. I was glad.
My throat was burning, and to breath was to scorch my fading lungs while blood trickled from the corners of my mouth, proof of the bite marks on the inside of my cheeks from withstanding the pain. I breathed anyway. Sure, dying quickly to end the pain was one thing, but it sure as hell wasn't anything else except for suffocating like Naraku was squeezing my heart again.
Oh, irony. Blue skies and flowers in full bloom-- how very different from my bleeding and disappearing state of existence. At least Sesshoumaru was here, instead of guarding that little human girl Rin who got the toad into trouble constantly. Where was she, anyway?
It didn't matter. I smiled as I was swept away in the wind, with Sesshoumaru's upturned face watching after me.
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