Author's Note: An interlude. Inuyasha's story.

Words: 2,118

Enjoy!

oOoooOoOoooOo

This was a good job, young Inuyasha Taisho told himself again and again. Not many half-demons turned out as lucky as he did, with a secure job working for the Queen's Royal Navy. He had decent pay, good benefits, and even had higher chances of actually retiring in comfort someday!

He kept telling himself all that, but the words rang hollower and hollower in his mind.

As the cargo was loaded onto the Justice, Inuyasha had to bite his tongue from bitterly laughing at the horrid irony. One by one, the miserable shuffling bodies, shackled together by the ankles, moved from the deck to their hold below. Once or twice, a single body stumbled, causing ripples to interrupt the horrible, unanimous pattern, threatening a break in rhythm, until an overseer shook them upright and set them off once more.

Inuyasha watched with a fascinated horror – the kind where you cannot bear to watch and yet cannot look away – as the bodies kept piling onto the Justice. Many were shirtless, others wearing mere tatters, all sported some sort of physical assault: crisscrossed scars threaded down the shirtless backs, bloodied noses, bruises, cuts, and more.

It seemed that it did not matter that this cargo was damaged before it was brought to the colonies. Logic would dictate that to be absurd – why damage the goods? - but Inuyasha knew the truth. He didn't want to believe it at first, when he signed up to join the navy two years prior, but now he couldn't ignore it.

It did not matter whether the cargo was "damaged" or not, because the abuse inflicted on them was half the point.

To break their spirits.

To lose the urge of resistance.

Inuyasha swallowed bile, threatening to spill forth from his dry mouth, as a terrible thought entered his mind, forever erasing the distance he tried so desperately to hold.

This cargo had faces. This cargo had eyes, wide, frightened, bewildered, and angry.

The "cargo" ... wasn't cargo at all.

Digging his claws deep into his fisted palms, Inuyasha watched with an unshielded glare as the remaining slaves were forced below deck. He would hold his tongue, yes, but in his mind, he was already thinking a million miles an hour. Surely, surely, there was some other way...

"Lieutenant Taisho!" his superior snapped, Captain Naraku Onigumo whom Inuyasha despised. "See to it that the cargo is taken to Port Royal in time for the market three days hence."

Market. More like auction. Inuyasha remembered watching some of the poor souls desperately clinging to loved ones at the village before being dragged away... Trembling with rage and disgust (mostly directed at himself for not acting), he nodded curtly, barked a few orders to his men to set sail swiftly, and once dismissed, turned stiffly away.

For the first time in his life, Inuyasha's stomach couldn't bear the rocking of the ship on the ocean's waves. But as he leaned over a private side of the ship and heaved his breakfast, the bile burning his mouth and throat, he knew the ocean was not to blame.

.

.

.

Inuyasha was on his first "solo" mission for Her Majesty. He had been excited, given the opportunity to show he was more than just his bloodline, more than what society assumed of him. Captain Naraku had two roles to play: supervise Inuyasha's every move and oversee that all the "cargo" had been placed in the hold under lock and key. (There had been reports of other slave ships where hundreds committed suicide in droves by deliberately throwing themselves overboard).

Inuyasha knew he was being watched. Not only was this a sort of "test" to his loyalty to the royal family, but also a dare. Half-demons were not exactly known to rise in the ranks of society. The military was no aristocracy in a literal sense, but had its own hierarchy and place of honor in the world.

Although now, with the ship rocking towards Port Royal, and hundreds of pitiful souls beneath his feet, Lieutenant Inuyasha Taisho was beginning to believe that "honor" was overrated.

For three agonizing days, he debated with himself. On one hand, his livelihood. His dead mother's worries put to rest. His shameful blood ignored at long last.

On the other hand, the right thing. The right thing.

Sometimes, he considered going below, to see the doomed souls in their atrocious quarters, to solidify his decision one way or another, but he always stopped himself. Not only because he knew the sight would be utterly horrible and stomach-churning, but also because he couldn't help but wonder if even after facing the true horror of it all, he would still go through with it. And that was a kind of shame he would not be able to bear.

Several times, he braced himself to directly confront his superiors about the whole situation. He worked up several convincing (and horribly cold-hearted) lines of logic: was selling slaves really worth all the money and time to collect?

(Why the hell were slaves even a thing?)

Did the cost of ferrying cargo across an ocean multiple times really balance out with the lack of payment for slave labor?

(What about all those people, all those men and women and children with souls? Don't they mean something?)

Surely, it would make more sense to invest in trade with the Orient? Spices ultimately changed this side of the world, after all! They make a very tidy profit!

(Anything, anything, was better than to sell people!)

But all his rehearsals fell flat, ringing horribly empty in his head along with the haunting, terrible words: I am contributing to the slave system.

Still, his conscience was rebutted by images of his childhood: being rejected by fellow children playing in the streets, his mother's tears above her fixed albeit tender smile, people gaping at his telltale dog ears and silver hair, being turned away by tradesmen of every kind for an apprenticeship...

Finally, arriving the night before they were scheduled to make port, the Justice was docked at a nearby small island within view of Port Royal. It was where leftover ships often set anchor when the market had no room, due to scheduling issues.

As a result, Captain Naraku ordered the slaves to be brought up onto the deck for "inspections." The men were checked for broken bones, the women checked that their faces were left as untarnished as possible, the children mostly left alone. It was evening, with only the light of the ship lanterns and a candlestick carried by the cabin boy for the captain as he observed the inspections. Silently and sullenly, Inuyasha followed, feeling sicker than his last bout of throwing up, keeping his eyes downcast. That was a mistake in its own rite, because the feet of these poor souls were in an absolutely atrocious state. Bloodied scabs, blisters, swollen toes, one or two toes were actually cut clean off...

Leaving them in such a state was on purpose, he realized in horror. It made the slaves look filthy, savage, primitive. Inhuman.

Inuyasha's head pounded, boiling blood making his vision turn a hazy red... In his state of blind rage, he half considered slaughtering everyone including himself because it would be a mercy for the poor slaves and a suitable punishment for the members of the crew. At least he could die and see his mother again with his head held high, that he ultimately did a merciful act of justice rather than cower -

Then, his eyes fell on a young girl in the slave line up. Inuyasha's heart jolted.

In a crowd of humans, there stood one lone half-demon girl, with silver-purplish hair and lavender eyes. Her light brown skin was the only similarity she shared with her fellow innates.

Their eyes locked.

And in that moment, all debate and justification ended in Inuyasha's mind.

.

.

.

"Fifty lashes for insubordination," Captain Naraku said coolly, watching the disgraced lieutenant be forced to his knees, his uniform ripped down the back to expose his skin to the air. Inuyasha's wrists were tied down on one of the Justice's railings, with just enough room to grip onto the wood for the inevitable pain to come. Gritting his teeth, he held on, glaring across the dock at Port Royal, where dozens of curious onlookers have gathered to witness the fall of a naval soldier.

In the dead of the night, after the "inspections" were finished, Inuyasha finally made his choice. Using his quick reflexes and strength, he silently broke the slaves out of the hold, piled them onto the lifeboats, and traveled with them to the little "placeholder" island in front of Port Royal. There, he made connections with an old acquaintance, a smuggler named Kouga, who agreed to take the slaves back to their native village. Inuyasha gave every penny he had on him to convince the wolf demon, but by the time the transaction was over, Kouga was quite in a hurry to get a move on.

"Don't worry, mutt," he had said with a wry grin. "No rich asshole is going to convince me to relinquish these guys even with a million or more. I may ask for a high price, but once I make a deal, I never go back on it."

Still, they had to work fast, and soon the freed slaves were onboard the ferryboat that would "island hop" their way home. At first, the poor souls did not react more than the occasional bewildered murmurs (their spirits were so shattered at this point, they could scarcely believe a naval officer was actually helping them), but by the time they boarded their new vessel, this time with blankets and warm drinks in hand, a subtle hope began to kindle in their eyes...

Right now, Captain Naraku was in his element. Punishing an officer was a rare treat for him. Inuyasha could hear him pacing back and forth eagerly, and the sounds of leather and skin rubbing together indicated that he had the punishing whip in hand.

"Lieutenant Inuyasha Taisho, you are hereby stripped of your title, your income, your welfare, and your status as a member of Her Majesty's Royal Navy. Two hundred slaves freed! Do you realize how much profit we have lost?!"

The first lash sliced against Inuyasha's back, and he bit his lip to prevent from shouting in agony. Ordinarily, this wouldn't hurt him, but to add insult to injury, the tip of the whip was laced in demon poison. Not enough to kill him (being part human and all), but definitely enough to hurt like hell. He gripped onto the railing tighter.

"I suppose you felt sorry for the pathetic creatures? Shared a sort of kinship with them?"

Two, three, four, five quick lashes in succession. Inuyasha's bottom lip was now bleeding excessively, but still he held back from voicing his pain. Splinters began sticking into his palms.

"It is of my opinion, you know," Naraku continued in his slippery voice, lowering the tone so that only Inuyasha's ears could pick it up, "that half-breeds were destined to become slaves as well."

Ten, twelve, fifteen lashes. Inuyasha was beginning to see white spots. He shook his head, determined to stay conscious. He could no longer feel his hands.

"You were never meant to move above a mere lieutenant, you know. You? A lowly half-breed? Count yourself lucky you ever rose that high to begin with, if only because your father was a respectable high-ranking demon. Such a shame he lowered himself so disgracefully towards the end of his life, bedding a pathetic human woman."

Thirty lashes now. Inuyasha could no longer feel the blood trickling down his back, and his vision was growing blurry. The poisonous tip of the whip burned him with every touch, and each lash let the poison drag across his skin a bit before letting up again. He wasn't even sure if he was holding back on screaming anymore, all sound seemed to be blocked out.

All except for that bastard Naraku, who had a knack of getting into Inuyasha's head.

"Dirty blood... scum... a disgrace to Her Majesty's name..."

Forty. Forty-five... Forty-nine...

"You should have been a part of the cargo itself, filthy half-breed!"

Fifty lashes.

At last! Inuyasha's vision turned blood-red.

He broke from his bonds, turned heel, and grasped a shocked looking Captain Naraku Onigumo by the neck. His claws dug deep into the sadistic man's flesh, as Inuyasha lifted him up.

"People aren't cargo!" he snarled. And with that, he snapped the captain's neck (a loud, horrible cracking noise that no one could miss), and tossed the broken body overboard.

And all hell broke loose.

AN: Whoo! My longest chapter! (Mainly because I felt bad that poor Inuyasha's backstory was left on the wayside while Kagome got all kinds of cool scenes lol). Fun fact: the inspiration for this backstory's plot is derived entirely from Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End. If anyone caught it, let me know! ;)

There will be more on InuKag's backstories and more of their budding "romance" later! Until next time! Thanks for the lovely reviews! Keep them coming!