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The Great Jewel Hunt
Chapter 6: Headed to Danger
It was Inuyasha who woke first. He had fallen asleep leaning his back against a tree, but awoke to find himself lying on the ground in front of it on his side. He hadn’t intended to sleep at all, not with someone he didn’t even know, someone who could easily kill him if he dropped his guard, lying a few feet away. Especially not when it was a girl. Annoyingly enough, his body didn’t seem to care about what he intended, as it had been overcome by exhaustion and fallen asleep anyway without his consent.
Inuyasha cursed himself silently, but he didn’t dwell too much on his weakness. He had other things to consider. The priestess was still asleep, snoozing soundly into the early hours of the morning. For a moment, he toyed with the idea of simply getting up and walking away before she rose. He dismissed the thought immediately as it came to him. It was to the girl’s good fortune that she had found him when she had. To abandon her would be nothing short of a death sentence at the hands of evil demons or ruthless humans, and Inuyasha was not willing to do that.
Sighing, he leaned back against his tree, hands behind his head. There was nothing for it. He would simply have to lead the girl to Renji city and hope that, when he ditched her there, she would have the sense not to try to follow alone. Perhaps she could even recruit some companions once they had arrived.
After several minutes of introspection, Inuyasha noticed the girl, Kagome, begin to stir. He simply watched as she blearily opened her eyes and sat up, rubbing the sleep from the corners of her lids.
“Morning,” she said to Inuyasha with a pleasant and airy tone characteristic of only partial wakefulness.
Inuyasha rolled his eyes and ignored her greeting. Her mood, however, did not falter as she began to boil some water in a pot she had produced from her pack, over the new fire she had made in the same place as the previous night.
“What are you doing, girl?” Inuyasha asked her after watching for a few minutes as she rummaged in her bag, pulling out dried, bagged leaves, and some sort of powder, which both found there way into the water.
“I’m making tea,” she answered, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“Tea?”
“Yeah, tea. Haven’t you ever had tea before?”
Inuyasha thought back. Surely, when he was a child, his mother had made him tea. She must have at some time, he thought, but he couldn’t remember any specific instance.
“I don’t know,” he said.
Kagome stopped what she was doing to gape at him. “What do you mean you don’t know?”
“I mean, wench, that I don’t know.”
“How could you not know?”
“I don’t remember, ok? I might have had it when I was younger, but if I did I don’t remember, and definitely not recently, so I don’t know.”
The girl watched him with an odd expression on her face for a moment, then turned back to the pot and began to stir again.
“Well, either way I think you’ll like it,” she told him, her cheeriness restored.
When her brewing was done, she poured some of the ‘tea’ into two cups that her pack had produced, seemingly from no where, and handed the first to Inuyasha. He accepted it, but didn’t sip as she watched him expectantly.
Slightly put off, Kagome frowned at him. “Well, aren’t you at least going to try it before you decide if you like it or not?” she asked him.
“How do I know you haven’t done something to it?” he asked her.
“Like what? I sweetened it if that’s what you mean.” Before she finished she could see that it wasn’t. Inuyasha was watching her warily, as though half expecting she would jump him again and try to pour it down his throat.
“You could have put something in it. Something that isn’t supposed to be in tea.” He sniffed the cup carefully as he spoke, but his eyes never left Kagome, and suddenly she understood.
“What, you mean you think I poisoned it or something?” she asked, shocked by the idea. Inuyasha, however, acted as if her comprehension of his suspicion was as good as admittance, pushing the cup farther from his face. Kagome rolled her eyes inwardly, but tried to keep her face impassive.
“Well, here, I’ll prove it’s fine,” she told him, taking a sip from her own drink. Inuyasha was not convinced.
“Just because that one’s ok, doesn’t mean you didn’t poison this one,” he said, sounding for all the world like a child accusing her of cheating at cards, despite the fact that she had shown him that there was nothing up her sleeves.
“Oh, for the love of…here,” she said, snatching his tea from him and taking a swig. Unfortunately, she had forgotten that the liquid was still hot, and it seared at her mouth and throat, making her cough and splutter in surprise.
“See! I knew it!” snapped Inuyasha, clearly convinced his theory had been confirmed.
“Inuyasha, it’s hot! It is hot tea. I forgot and drank too much, I swear it’s completely fine,” she assured him, taking a small sip from his cup, this time mindful of the temperature. “You see?” she asked, offering it back. He accepted it, still watching her. “It’s just fine. Why would I try to hurt you?”
Inuyasha didn’t answer. He stared at the priestess, straight into her eyes, and still he could detect no dishonesty. All that he saw was confusion, reconciliation, and perhaps a hint of well covered exasperation. For a priestess, she really didn’t know much about the way priestesses and demons usually got along, nor, for that matter, the way humans tended to think of demons. Unable to find a reason to distrust her, Inuyasha raised Kagome’s offering of tea to his lips and took a sip.
The taste wasn’t strong, but it was sweet. It didn’t taste quite like water, but nicer and pleasant, he could taste the scent of jasmine in it. He looked back at Kagome, keeping his face blank. He had no plans on telling her, after all that, that he liked her tea quite a lot.
Mollified, Kagome smiled again, returning her attention to the small fire she had tended.
“I think,” she told him, “that it is time for breakfast.”
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The demon roared, rearing it’s ugly, serpentine skull, jaw wide open and ready to tear at flesh, bone, or whatever else got in its way.
“Not this time!” declared one man, and the others roared in assent, though they doubted the demon could understand them. Readying spears, swords, bows and arrows, and all other manner of weaponry, thirty grown men charged as one, surrounding the beast and stabbing, cutting, shooting and slashing it wherever they could.
The creature writhed and screamed horribly, trying to wriggle away from each sharp object that stabbed at it in turn. It hissed, and squealed, and attempted to bolt, but to no avail. Its enemies were all attacking at the same time, and before it could so much asses which side was in worse danger, it was already wounded and falling, the ground coming fast up to meet it.
Even though the snake-like creature landed with a crash, giving on final, pathetic cry, the men stabbed and slashed at it until even the final twitches of death had subsided. They then hollered and cheered, celebrating their victory.
They had the perfect strategy for fighting all manner of demons. As one unit, they surrounded the thing and attacked from all sides, confusing the dumb brute just long enough to wound it so severely that it was no longer a threat. Still, they kept up the assault until the being beneath their flailing weapons moved no more.
It was brief, sure, and brutal. Perfection. The creature, good or evil, didn’t matter. They always lost. They always died.
The demon never stood a chance.
As the sounds of victory died down, the leader, a cold, cruel, bloodthirsty little beast himself, came to the front of the crowd.
“My friends,” he said, raising his voice over the remnants of the din, quieting his underlings, “We have fought another battle today, and we are VICTORIUS!”
More cheering, but the man silenced it with a wave of his hand.
“We have, once again, showed the demonic world that they will not be tolerated on human soil!”
More cheers.
“We have shown the monsters that they are not welcome on our land, be they a threat or not! WE HAVE SHOWN THEM!”
Cheers.
“We will kill every last one of the beasts!”
Howls.
“We will cleanse our world of the impurity that is demonic blood!”
Hoots. Hollers. Shouts.
“We are human. We are pure. WE WILL DESTROY THEM, AND ANYONE ELSE THAT STANDS IN OUR WAY!”
Screams of joy erupted from the assembled men. All were dirty, unfeeling bastards, with a bloodlust to match their leader’s, the headman of the village in which they resided. The village which they had taken over, forcing the former residents to do as they were told or be tortured, killed, or else forced to watch their families endure such fates for their insolence.
The murderous band, bored by human opponents who fell so easily at their hands, had taken to hunting and slaying demons, while keeping the human population enslaved.
They were heartless. They were evil. But they were strong, and the villagers were too afraid of suffering as they had seen anyone who opposed the regime suffer. They had families, and they couldn’t fight if it meant risking their children’s’, wives’, husbands’, parents’ lives.
The cruel collection of pillagers and plunderers had oppressed them so far, that they felt there was no hope of escape. It was exactly what the villains wanted to happen. They knew that, to keep people under their control, they had to keep them afraid, and they thrived on doing just that.
“Men,” the leader addressed his subordinates, smiling maliciously. “We have run out of demons in the area. So, until more should come around, we’ll just have to make do with the human trash in this stinking place.”
The men sniggered at their leader’s nastiness.
“Do as you please with them!” he said maliciously. Then, with a wicked smirk he added, “And with their wives.”
“And their daughters,” shouted one of the more riotous men, leading the others in a chorus of jeers.
Yelling and barking, the gang headed back towards the village, attacking or killing any villager unfortunate enough to get in there way.
A young mother, who had lost her husband to the crew of murderers, shielded her 9 year old daughter behind her as the loud mob passed their hut, praying that they would somehow find help soon, before her and her child fell victim to one of the men seeking ‘pleasurable company.’
Unknown to her, the answer to her prayers was wandering a dirt road.
Of course, it’s no surprise she didn’t know. Her answers didn’t know either.
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The road was damp, despite the fact that it hadn’t rained for several days. The wet dirt, though not quite mud, stuck thickly to her sandals, often getting on her feet, gritty and unpleasant. Kagome didn’t like it.
Of course, she couldn’t complain. Not to Inuyasha. She had the feeling that he wouldn’t like her whining about a bit of dirt on her feet, not that she was big on grumbling about minimal discomfort.
It was well over an hour of walking before Kagome realized that Inuyasha wasn’t wearing any shoes. Doing a quick double-take, she confirmed that his feet were completely bare, not even covered by a sock, though the road was rough and often rocky. Kagome stared absently, making up her own reasons for the boys lack of foot wear.
‘Perhaps he doesn’t fit into any shoes,’ she mused. ‘Or maybe he lost his. Or maybe…’
“You got a question, wench?” Inuyasha asked, his voice unusually civil and his tone compliant
“Um…actually yeah. How come you don’t have any shoes or anything? I mean, don’t you hurt your feet? Walking around all the time, you must step on sharp things sometimes.”
Inuyasha snorted in response. “I’m half-demon. My skin is tougher than a humans, especially on my feet. No rock is going to cut me. If I stepped on a sword, or something metal, than maybe, but not a rock.” Kagome nodded her understanding. “Besides,” he added, almost sheepishly, “I don’t like shoes.”
Kagome stored at him for a moment, and then laughed aloud.
“Hey! What’s so funny?!” Inuyasha demanded.
“Nothing,” insisted Kagome, though she smiled. She couldn’t help it. Not for the first time, Kagome reminded herself that, as far as a traveling companion went, she could have done a lot worse.
Sure, Inuyasha was thick-headed, and rather stubborn. Yes, he was gruff and often rude. True, he made no effort to hide his distaste for her company.
And yet…there was just something about him. Some endearing quality that she couldn’t explain or pin point. He wasn’t nice, but he was. Not pleasant, but pleasant. It was almost like she could see something else in him. There were some moments when he was a bit scary, but usually he was just immature. There was something about the pout he didn’t seem to notice that he pulled whenever he didn’t understand or trust something that Kagome liked. Really liked.
“So Renji city. That’s two weeks away, right?”
Inuyasha nodded. “Yes, two weeks. There are villages on the way though, so you can…get stuff or whatever.”
“Really? How long until we see the first one?”
“Not sure,” Inuyasha said, shrugging. “I never really paid attention. A day or two, I guess. Why?”
“No reason,” Kagome answered, hastening her steps until she was walking directly beside the hanyou. “Just curious.”
Inexplicably happy, Kagome sped her walk to keep pace with Inuyasha’s longer stride. Noticing this, he slightly, almost imperceptibly, slowed to make it easier. Glancing to his right, he caught Kagome’s small, satisfied smile, as though he had just proved that something she had been trying for a while to explain was, beyond a shade of a doubt, true.
Kagome didn’t miss the way his cheeks dusted pink.
‘Yep,’ she told herself. ‘It could definitely be worse.’
Of course, had she known it was about to get a good deal worse, maybe she wouldn’t have forgotten that old law of the universe. If it can get worse, usually, it will. And it always can get worse.
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