Requiem Of A Death Toll
Author's note: Woot. This is my first serious fanfiction attempt in a long time. The last time I tried for a long-running fanfiction last summer, it ended up horribly shoddy and lacking of a storyline. But I have one this time, and I'm going to try to make this one even half as excellent as the best MirSan fanfiction I have EVAH read, If You Need Her by the wonderful Scribe Figaro. Go read it—it's one of the best pieces of literature this young author has ever read (aside from my beloved Shakespeare, of course).
This fanfiction will hopefully be very long. I've wanted to write a MirSan fanfiction ever since I first saw Inuyasha sometime in 2002 or 2003, but when I read Scribe Figaro's art was the first time I was truly inspired, and I need something to do this summer nonetheless. This will be Ki-sama's first fiction about the wonderful coupling; my last serious fanfiction was about Ginny and Harry from the Harry Potter series, and that lasted a good eleven chapters, but I've just recently read and removed it because of how lacking it truly was. But what can one expect; I was twelve, for Pete's sake!
Unfortunately, I cannot give accurate criteria of what exactly this story will contain, for my style of writing tends to be more on whim than anything else. There will be lots of action and of course some fluff (as us "pro-MirSan-anti-InuKag" fans are so deprived of), but you will not see any hentai in this fanfiction. Besides the fact that writing, in grotesque detail, about characters "doing it" is completely against my beliefs, it's also really quite disgusting, in my personal opinion. Romance is sweet, but such horribly written inaccurate sex scenes are disturbing.
There will be twists, there will be swearing, there will be blood, guts, gore, death and all that fun stuff, for it keeps the show along the wonderful guidelines that Takahashi-sensei has provided for us. If you're against the former or the latter, turn back now, because those are things that are used frequently in a good story.
There's not much to say other than that. Just bear in mind that I'm thirteen with no real Japanese tutoring and just like to write, so please be kind and rewind; I hope you enjoy it, but if not, gomen nasaiand that's up to you. I'm trying.
Hai, the entire summary was promised to you in the small summary, as such a small amount of words could not describe it accurately, so here goes:
…"The final Shikon no Kakera is guiding the path of the Inuyasha-tachi, among many others in their world whom wish to gain its innumerable power, its measure of complete supremacy. But when one of their number suddenly goes missing by a girl presumed dead, what are they to do? Naraku is obviously behind this, but for the past half a year there has been no trace of the hanyou, and most had considered him also dead. But this world is all about irony and deceit, and who knows if he's really alive or dead?
Their number seems to diminish one by one, members disappearing at random until all are gone but Sango-san and Miroku-sama, until one fateful day when his curse goes horribly wrong—is it possible to go back and make sure none of her friends are murdered by the dead girl, and keep the love of her life alive long enough to defeat their hardest foe yet?"
"Am I evil? Yes I am.
Am I evil? I am man, yes I am.
As I watched my mother die, I lost my head.
Revenge now I sought, to break with my bread.
Taking no chances, you come with me.
I'll split you to the bone, help set you free...
…Am I evil? Yes I am.
Am I evil? I am man, yes I am.
On the action now, I'll strip your pride.
I'll spread your blood around, I'll see you ride.
Your face is scarred with steel, wounds deep and neat.
Like a double dozen before ya, smells so sweet."
-Metallica, "Am I Evil?"
Interlude One: The Musings of Naraku-danna
These days, hardly twenty-four hours could pass without a swarm of youkai attacking a village somewhere. The country was untamed, unkempt, and most of all, the demon population was greatly outnumbering the human population.
More of both were born each passing day—More demons born to demon parents, more humans born to human parents, more hanyouborn to a combination of both. More died each day; humans died of murder and natural causes, the youkaiwho killed them and would feast upon their bones, if the cruel, brainwashed, unforgiving sort.
As was the stereotype.
However, not all of these creatures were vile. Some were kind, gentle, willing to help their human counterparts out of a sticky spot, either through their generally superior battle abilities, or for monetary reasons. Some youkaicould reside in peace and harmony with humans, although no one is denying that racism lingered in the air, especially towards the hafu population known as hanyou.
Usually, this was not the case. Usually, villages were burned, their residents slaughtered brutally by the hand of an unruly demon or two, intent upon killing their human bodies, stealing their material possessions, and then moving on to loot another village in line the next night, lifeblood still fresh on their sword.
The half-demon Naraku was the main culprit of this.
All of Sengoku-JidaiJapan lived in fear of that wretched name. Some admitted it and others did not, but all hated it. That accursed name…'twas as though a plague would befall thee whose lips the vile half-breed'sname fell from. The brave few that dared speak it were those with a debt owed to the dead, seeking revenge, a new life sought to fill the void of that which he had so effortlessly stolen away with a single blow. Families had been torn apart, people possessed and then their empty, soulless bodies resided in by the evil man, all in one single swing. The taijiyavillage had been a prime example of this, and some of this better work, if he could say so himself. The art had accurately portrayed the good—rather, bad—side of his cunning, his malice, his superior intellect; and it had been quite fun, to go without saying.
But Naraku himself was too important to actually battle. Most of the time, he sent his worthless armies of brain-dead youkai to battle for him, others he would send his puppets, sometimes controlled by one of his bounty of Shikon no Kakera, other times simply infuriated by the lies spread by Naraku's mouth. Yea, that was Naraku's most prized skill; the ability to use words to get himself in and out of such predicaments that he found too strenuous for his own doing.
What caused him to do such evil things? It was a sport to him, so terribly amusing on a rainy day. Onigumo as a human had not always been bad—yes, that had been many moons past, but this proved that there was still a touch of innocence into his perceived truly black heart, if not only a small sliver—and yet, something had changed him. Something had twisted his soul, damned him to a life in hell, demon immortality living within his demonicflow, almost guaranteeing him an eternal time upon this Earth.
Regardless, something had caused it, unbeknownst to the people of Japan (or, rather, those who cared) what, and because of the actions of one or many, no one could go to bed happy at night. Even on the brightest and joyful days, where it seems nothing is wrong with the world, the sun sets and that little switch in the back of the brain turns on, adrenaline rushes through the body, and paranoia settles again within the very soul. In a way, humanity had taken this fate upon itself. It would be unfair to say that all humans caused it, but it is in the case of a mass-murder. A small child was picked on and his shell forever cracked beyond repair, black miasma leaking through it and poisoning Onigumo's brain with the conceit of humanity.
Only Kikyou had had the power to fix him, to save him, to make him whole—and he had killed her through the hanyou Inuyasha.
It was…it was almost as if he had been scared.
But no, that had not been the case, he had assured himself of such many times. That Kikyou temee had become endlessly meddling, and rather than simply telling her to stop, he had killed her. She knew too much! What if she had said she would never tell but lied, and all of his secrets had leaked out, for the world to see and hear? All humans were untrustworthy. Whether the purest miko or the darkest bandit, all were his enemies. He was now Naraku, enemy of the people, King of the Universe.
Yes, that would have to do. Naraku-danna-sama, care for a human, and be jealous over that stupid inu? Nay! That temee deserved to die. She was too good for her own being.
His minions had stung the bones and egos of thousands in his lifetime. They were sucked into the Kazaana of a certain monk, and beaten down to nothing--ashes to ashes, dust to dust--by youkai taijiya, when the village had been alive. Only one was remaining, now, though, and that was by mere blunder in part of his men; though technically two were still here, if one was to count Kohaku-kun as living.
Naraku had seen this village as a threat to his supremacy, his plan for total dictatorship, for complete world domination. They were strong enough to overthrow him, to kill his minions, to rape his soul and destroy his castle. The taijiya had dubbed themselves as honourable, but he knew much otherwise. Demon exterminators were nothing but rotten scoundrels hell bent for slaughter. He couldn't have another rise against him, a rival, maybe even bear a loss to them. Yes! His highness was susceptible to attack once every month, and while he could change this weak point of his own free will, what if, bypure dumb luck,they happened to strike on this one night? Was it possible to beat such an entity? As a scrawny human child he had been pitiful, weak, worthless…but now as an absolute God, he was invincible. He liked the fear and indescribable terror and panic the mere mention of his name enstilled—as one "Onigumo", the other children had picked on him, his ogre-esque name, the pathetic torture his worthless human mother hadchosen forhim on his day of birth. The sordidness of it all made him want to cringe and almost gave the powerful hanyouthe need to scrub himself, but now his name was cruel and to the point—"Hellish Abyss."
And that is what he had inflicted the monk Miatsu with, a mere fifty years ago. A Hell Abyss. Kazaana. One of his better curses, admittedly.
This entire aside, there was only one true challenge in his path to dominance, this half-demon whom came to the call "Inuyasha." Naraku had known since he was the child Onigumo that Inuyasha would always get in his way. At an early age he had seen Inuyasha display such strength and character, such force and tact, without even a sword but through his Sankon Tessou attack, with those limber claws of hisThe unruly dog creatureconstantly said that he cared not for humans but Naraku could easily see through him, the way he acted around that wretched human miko Kikyou. Inuyasha was truly in a fight for good, even though he stubbornly denied it to all whom asked.
A trademark smirk crossed the Naraku'slips at the mere thought of it all.
Yes, Inuyasha is foolish to trust his heart to humans. Naraku would often think, alone in his "portable" castle. It will be the death of him, mark my words.
Inuyasha was physically strong and mentally weak, and would thoughtlessly give his life for any one of that meddling grouphe traveled with, fruitlessly searching for the remaining Shikon no Kakera, often with no avail; that "shard-hunter" could be quite worthless and he heard it, it seemed that all that wench seemed to say was the demand "Inuyasha!" But they seemed to have fallen for each other, so take one out and the other would rush blindly at him, only to be taken down himself. Naraku already had the taijiya's younger brother on his side, and when Sango gave in, he knew that Inuyasha would never raise a sword to the girl—let alone anyone in that group, especially that so-called time-skipper Higurashi Kagome—and in turn, one by one, the others would end up under his brainwash—ultimately resulting in the death of Inuyasha, the gain of Naraku.
Humans are such disgusting creatures.
Inuyasha traveled slowly, so very slowed down by those humans that he insisted upon traveling with. His older, purer brother was much more quick on his feet, and hence posed much more of a problem. Sesshoumaru could easily wield a sword, thoughtlessly kill any demon in his path; Inuyasha was reluctant, because of the human blood that ran tainted through his demon veins. Sesshoumaru portrayed the true power of his daiyoukaifather, while Inuyasha was at a great disadvantage with his mother's mortal side. Sesshoumaru was careless, thoughtless, cruel. Inuyasha tried hard to be as such, but after growing so close to his human partners, they had almost cured him of these ailments, as the powerful priestess and sister to Kikyou, Kaede-babaa-chan, called it.
Though however powerful Sesshoumaru was, he lacked the heart. Sesshoumaru, like himself, killed for sport. He killed for fun, he killed because he was bored, he killed because he had nothing else to do. It was all bloodlust, every last murder. There was no true drive behind any of it, and Naraku had a sneaking suspicion that the great demon was only going after himself to beat Inuyasha and prove his superiority, that youkai were better than hanyou, hands down. Inuyasha had a true need to kill Naraku (apparently), and being as good with a blade as he was though nowhere near as skilled as his older half-brother, there was still the small possibility that he might just do it, however stupid his reasons might be.
Naraku scoffed, surprised at himself. I highly doubt it. I am superior to all others, ningen, hanyou and youkai alike. Those humans will be his downfall. They are his life, and without his gang of shard-hunters, he's sitting ducks.
A cruel laugh resounded within the hollow room, echoing off of the rocky walls, all within earshot cringing with the sudden looming fear of this wretched half demon.
Naraku's plan was ready to go into effect.
Inuyasha will die. Soon.
…Sooner than anyone will have expected.
Chapter originally posted June sixth, two thousand five.