Categories > Anime/Manga > Inuyasha > IY Drabbles
Heartbeat
He hated it - the steady beat beat of his human heart. It with its human desires that kept him awake at night - thinking of her, longing for her. It was not the strong beat beat coldness of the youki he pretended to be.
So he carved it out. Wrapped it in flesh. Separated himself from its human desires - human weakness.
Inside his chest there was no steady beat beat of love and longing - there was nothing.
Even her screams couldn't reach him now.
Satisfied he watched her blood run through his hands, staining the pure ground with his evil desires, as he listened to the slowing beat beat of her dead heart. Her dead human eyes stared into his, her hand leaving a bloody trail across his cheek.
"Onigumo."
But his heart was not his own, and it did not skip in a flurry beat beat at her voice - or her death.
Numbly the demon Naraku held the dead miko - killed twice by his hand - and relished in his coldness. He was a youki, freed of human wants. His heart would never again go beat beat for anyone. He was cold - heartless.
A single tear escaped from his lashes, rolled slowly down his cheek, splashing onto the face of the dead miko.
How he would miss the beat beat of her heart.
He hated it - the steady beat beat of his human heart. It with its human desires that kept him awake at night - thinking of her, longing for her. It was not the strong beat beat coldness of the youki he pretended to be.
So he carved it out. Wrapped it in flesh. Separated himself from its human desires - human weakness.
Inside his chest there was no steady beat beat of love and longing - there was nothing.
Even her screams couldn't reach him now.
Satisfied he watched her blood run through his hands, staining the pure ground with his evil desires, as he listened to the slowing beat beat of her dead heart. Her dead human eyes stared into his, her hand leaving a bloody trail across his cheek.
"Onigumo."
But his heart was not his own, and it did not skip in a flurry beat beat at her voice - or her death.
Numbly the demon Naraku held the dead miko - killed twice by his hand - and relished in his coldness. He was a youki, freed of human wants. His heart would never again go beat beat for anyone. He was cold - heartless.
A single tear escaped from his lashes, rolled slowly down his cheek, splashing onto the face of the dead miko.
How he would miss the beat beat of her heart.
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