Dedicated to: Kalliel! I love every single one of your reviews and I just wanted to let you know that your encouragement has been greatly appreciated. Thank you!
I hope you like this. I was wondering for the longest time what I should write that you'd actually enjoy... But if not, let me know.
Word count: 1, 396
---
ManipulationYura coughed, laying one hand fiercely on her chest. Swallowing the bile that rose in her throat, she staggered forwards, landing with a gasp onto the grass. Raw fingers clutched the ground desperately, and slowly she dragged herself upright, panting. Taking a moment to catch her breath, Yura then proceeded to wipe off the shimmering sweat on her brow, trying without avail to ignore the exhaustion in her limbs. Yura sighed wearily, and she suddenly collapsed again, her black eyes clouding with a strange, dark emotion.
"This cough will be the end of me," she whispered, voice abnormally hoarse and broken. An ironic chuckle slipped halfway up her lips, then disappeared again as her morose expression deepened. "I will die. From a mere cough." Involuntarily, memories filled her mind of her family being slaughtered by that tribe of bloodthirsty panther demons, the great taiyoukai never showing up to protect them, as he'd promised. A burning hatred filled her as she remembered his long, silver, flowing hair, unblemished while her family had fallen, tainted with black blood.
"Do not worry," he had said, looking proud and majestic, a flurry of white fur covering part of his face. "Stay here, and I will come when it is time for you to flee." His voice had been deep and calm, giving one a sense of both fear and awe. Yet he never came back. Some say that it had been the manipulation of a human that made him forget to return, and tell them where to go. Others said it was merely the demon lord's own pride and insensitivity that caused him to abandon those he'd promised to guard. Whatever the case, by the time he did arrive, her family, her home, her former life, was gone.
Coughing again, Yura climbed to her feet stiffly, fingers hastily covering her mouth in a futile effort to smother the grating sound. She honestly didn't remember how she'd gotten this cough in the first place, but whatever the case was, it refused to leave. Walking painstakingly through the shade of the trees, the petite demon suddenly frowned, eyeing the sunshine that was seeping through the leaves grumpily. The light had become so irritating lately.
But if Yura had been paying attention, she would have noticed, in the way the sunlight fell, how a strange crimson liquid glinted in her palms, and caked onto her pale skin.
---
A comb. It glittered invitingly from where it was half embedded in the dirt, and Yura stopped abruptly, squinting downwards at the thing that so shimmered in the bright sunlight. For a moment, the demon thought it was a pool of water, but as she got closer, she realized it was not water at all, but something physical. Yura bent down, picking it up with two fingers.
A disappointed smile reached her lips, and she tightened her grip on the object slightly, feeling its teeth dig into her rough flesh. The comb was painted a brilliant red, intricate gold and silver designs adorning its edges. Yura pouted, feeling remarkably disappointed.
"I don't need a comb," she said with disgust, dangling it in her fingers carelessly. "What I need is food, water, and shelter, and this is what I find?" Lack of proper sleep and her cough had made the female youkai very unreasonable, and unintentional tears sprang to her eyes. It was ridiculous, she knew, but the overflowing torrent of emotions long buried wouldn't stop coming. Suddenly violently angry, Yura threw the comb fiercely onto the ground, feeling sick satisfaction as its beautiful designs became mottled with dirt.
Yura turned to leave, but there was an odd, urgent tug at her enhanced youkai senses, and she whirled around, glancing wildly in each direction.
Almost immediately, her eyes fell upon that comb, shimmering innocently, even as it was half-buried in the earth. A strange excitement filled the young demon, and she abruptly fell to her knees, scrabbling madly for the object. Finally closing her hand around the comb, Yura held it up to the light, unable to tear her gaze away even as her eyes stung with pain.
Prey caught, the comb flared with an eerie black glow, enveloping Yura even as she tried to get away. Too late, she dropped the object, and too late, she recalled the rumors of a comb that, weary of combing the hair of the dead, hungered for hair of the living. Too late, she realized her mistake, her soul falling into a dark slumber in which there was no escape.
---
What do you wish?
Yura couldn't move.
What do you want?
What? Yura didn't understand.
I will grant you a wish, but in return, you offer me your body.
Where am I? Yura started to get frantic, but for some unfathomable reason, her limbs wouldn't respond.
Would you like your family back? Do you want revenge on the taiyoukai? Do you want to live forever?
Yura shook her head vigorously; too many questions! She couldn't think, couldn't move. All she wanted to do was get out. Now!
Tell me your wish.
I – I don't have a wish!
Tell me your wish. You must desire something.
I, I don't know! I desire many things.
What is the first thing that comes to your mind?
Yura felt an itching in her throat. My cough…it irritates me.
Would you like it gone?
Of course I would! What nonsense…anyone could see that.
Then say so.
But…I want revenge too, on that taiyoukai. I want – secret desires suddenly blossomed up in Yura's dazed mind, and slowly combined into one. A memory returned to Yura of her ridiculously short hair, mother's always so long and beautiful while hers was always shorn at such an awful length. Yura remembered how she would stroke those beautiful black tresses, and sometimes, her small fingers would itch to tear out every strand, one by one, and keep it forever and ever. But because it was mommy, she didn't.
Opening her mouth, Yura knew what she wanted. She forgot about the other end of the bargain.
I wish…
---
She had been wandering for so many years, Yura sometimes forgot what she was. Every once in a while a memory or something equally dastardly would surface in her brain, but a mere tightening of her grip on the comb would ease the pain.
It hurt a lot. Whatever that white-haired creature of her dreams had done, it hurt her a lot. And she was going to make that hurt go away. She couldn't rest, otherwise.
One year.
Three years.
Ten years.
Yura forgot what she was.
Twelve years.
Twenty years.
Yura no longer remembered her brother's name.
One hundred years.
Yura got lost in her own homeland. But it didn't matter.
---
The silvery hair registered faintly in her brain, but before Yura could recall the memory, it was smothered. The only thing that managed to surface was a deep, bubbly anger that quickly made its way up her face. But just as suddenly,that, too,disappeared, and Yura could only think of one thing: possession, possession of that beautiful, beautiful hair.
She needed it, the hair she never had, the hair she'd been waiting decades for.
She had to get revenge on the silver mane, but for what, she could no longer remember. All Yura knew was that she was going to rip those long, brilliant shiny strands off that ever so irritating hanyou's head and drag them through his blood, smirking when it stained a dark red. Yura honestly couldn't remember why she wanted to do that. It seemed like there was some sort of a barrier preventing her from recalling things, but she didn't care anymore.
And so, she pursued them.
Casting spider-like webs everywhere she laid her traps, and waited. Hair on the well, hair on the ground, hair everywhere! Yura sang.
She heard the girl dressed in strange clothing call out her target's name: "Inuyasha!"
Oh yes, Inuyasha, Yura giggled. You will be mine.
But they fought back.
Oh, they fought back. How they ruined her plans!
The girl with the miko power was ever so annoying! Didn't she know when to stop? Argh!
Even after Yura knew her hopes were over, and the miko laid her dirty little fingers on the red skull, she wouldn't stop fighting.
Because there was no way she could lose such lovely, lovely hair.