Disclaimer- I do not own nor did I create Inuyasha, that honor belongs to Rumiko Takahashi.
A/N- This prologue is quite long, because it is showing some of the more important parts of the past between two of the main characters: Kohaku and Rin. Usually prologues are short, but this one is around eleven pages.
This fic features many characters and does not just revolve around Kohaku and Rin. There are also many couples, including Mir/San, Inu/Kag, Sess/Kagura, Suikotsu/Kikyou and others.
Also, character relationships may be slightly different from what they are in the anime/manga. For example: Sesshoumaru's and Inuyasha's feelings regarding each other. Because they grew up together in this fic, they don't necessarily hate each other, but they do fight quite a bit. Kind of like quarreling brothers, but they take it to the extreme. No serious attempts on each other's life, however. Only half-hearted ones.
This fic also features flashbacks. All flashbacks are italicized.
Prologue
Rin ran as fast as her skinny legs would let her. Her breathing was hitched as the night air stung at her over-worked lungs. She stumbled over a stone, falling and catching herself on her hands and knees before she scrambled back on to her feet. Her palms stung as tiny bits of gravel found themselves into the scraped-away skin of her bleeding hands.Tears stung at her eyes, but the wind blew them dry on her face. She could still hear the gunshots echoing in her ears.
Spotting an alley up ahead, she turned swiftly, scrambling next to a dumpster to hide. The man would not find her here.
Had he even come after her?
She bit back a sob, the tears filling her eyes once again as she remembered what had transpired only fifteen minutes ago.
Why, why had he taken her family away?
She spent the next two weeks in an orphanage, until one deceptively kind foster family took her in.
Slap. "Stupid girl, don't you know how to talk?"
Rin crouched in fear. The man grabbed her by the hair and slapped her hard across the face. "I said, answer me, you stupid girl!"
Rin shook her head; she did not know how to make the foster family understand that she just couldn't talk. She had forgotten how.
"We told you not to go in to that room!" the man bellowed, and his wife did nothing to stop the abuse on the little girl. She watched a few feet away, her arms crossed against her chest. She had a satisfied expression on her face.
With one final slap across the face that had her head reeling, Rin's foster father walked away, leaving her slumped against the wall, trembling.
The woman stepped forward, and Rin flinched, squeezing her eyes closed. She did not hit her, however, but instead spat in Rin's face.
This had gone on for months and Rin felt she could not live in these conditions any longer. That night, she snuck through her bedroom window and climbed down the tree right outside of it. She ran off into the night, not looking back at the house that had caused her such misery.
For the next two weeks, Rin lived on the street. She hid in an alley behind a dumpster, hiding from the group of young men as they beat another with a pipe before welcoming him with open arms.
Rin learned what exactly a "bad gang" was.
The next night, while Rin was fishing through a garbage can for something halfway decent to eat, she heard a menacing growl behind her, followed by two others. Turning around quickly, Rin let out a gasp as she fell to the ground, scooting back away from the starving, mangy dogs that threatened her.
They advanced forward, their yellow fangs bared as drool dripped from their black lips, before one suddenly leapt at her. Rin screwed her eyes tightly shut, raising an arm in front of her as a feeble form of defense, waiting for the fangs to rip her apart.
They never did.
She heard something that cut through the air like a whip before all three dogs scuttled away, yelping in pain. Breathing deeply, Rin slowly opened her eyes.
She let out another gasp at what she saw.
A tall, pale man stood before her, the tips of his index and middle fingers glowing yellow before it eventually faded. He had long, flowing silver-white hair and he was dressed in expensive brand clothes. His expression was unreadable, for he showed no emotion on his face. On his forehead was a purple crescent moon; while on his cheeks were two red-violet stripes that stood out starkly on his pale and perfectly sculpted features. His left arm was missing. He was beautiful.
"Where did you get those bruises?" the beautiful man asked, without any hint of emotion in his voice, either. Rin stared at him with wide, brown eyes, unable to speak.
Then she smiled; a big, bright smile that lit up her entire face, whether she had a swollen eye or not.
His expression did not change. He turned his back to her and began walking away.
Without any hesitation, Rin followed.
From that moment on, she was in Nakamura Sesshoumaru's care.
"Very well, very well," Mr. Miyagi was saying, "If anything should happen to my brother, nephew, or I before my children become the age of thirty, then you shall inherit the company."
The man sitting across from Miyagi's desk gave a slight smile before he said smoothly, "It is agreed then? Pleasure doing business with you Miyagi-sama."
Kohaku peered into his father's office from the doorway, doing his best to remain hidden. Sango leaned over him, peeping in over his head. They both squeaked as Naraku stood up, quietly trying to scramble back and out of sight. It did not work, as Kohaku tripped over his own feet, knocking Sango over in the process. Kohaku's foot upset a small table holding a precious vase.
"Oof!" brother and sister both grunted, as Naraku watched them from the doorway. He looked amused but brushed past them without a word. Suddenly, he stopped and turned back towards them, staring at both Sango and Kohaku openly.
Sango scowled as she pulled herself to her feet, straightening her mussed up shirt. Naraku stared at her face, making her feel uncomfortable before his attention was shifted to Kohaku.
The boy clambered to his feet, strands of his longer hair falling out of its ponytail. His freckled face flushed at Naraku's intense scrutiny of him. The man's thin lips quirked in to a smirk before he brushed past them without a word.
"Creep," Sango muttered, before allowing herself in to their father's home office.
Kohaku laughed as his uncle told a rather hysterical event that had happened to his grown cousin at the mall. It involved a very pretty girl, and Kohaku's cousin Hoshiro was blushing furiously, but let his father continue as a smile played at his lips.
Kohaku's father threw his head back, and let out a hearty laugh. "Well, did you ask her on a date?"
Hoshiro huffed. "You know I did. I'm engaged to her, aren't I?"
Kohaku grinned, picking up the plates around the table and bringing them to the sink, where his sister Sango was already beginning to wash the dishes. He could see that she was trying to suppress a bout of giggles as she scrubbed at a plate.
"Aren't they getting married in three months, now?" Sango asked, giving a slide glance towards her younger brother.
"I believe so. I mean the story happened two years ago, didn't it?" Kohaku grinned. "Uncle seems to forget he's been telling that story over for months and months.
"That's why Hoshiro puts up with it now," Sango laughed, handing Kohaku a plate to dry.
"And Father treats it as if it's new news whenever Uncle tells it," Kohaku muttered, "but it still amuses him, I think."
Behind them, the course of the conversation had drastically changed.
"Have you heard anything else on Naraku, brother?" their uncle asked.
Kohaku shivered. He had met Naraku, and something had not felt right about the man with long, wavy dark hair and piercing eyes. He had stared at Kohaku rather strangely when he had come across him and his sister.
"No, not since we've settled on the matter," his father replied.
"He was scary," Kohaku chimed in, toweling dry the last dish. Sango went to sit down at the table. Their father sent a meaningful look towards his brother, conveying that he did not wish to speak further on the subject in front of his children.
"So Kohaku, you are eleven now, yes?" his uncle asked, backing his chair away from the table. "And your father and sister have told me that you have earned a black belt?" he grinned.
Kohaku nodded, his face reddening slightly.
His father pushed himself up from his seat. "Well, I believe it's time to watch the news. There's supposed to be a lead on the murders of that one family on tonight. Remember? It happened a year ago. Supposedly it was a mugger, but the little girl is protected from the press and is in foster care. She reportedly turned mute, too. It's all hush-hush from there."
The rest of the family followed towards the living room, leaving Kohaku to put the rest of the dishes away.
The wind breezed in from the open kitchen window, fluttering the curtains in the process. He glanced out of it, and saw a man standing there, facing the house from across the street. His defining features were not distinguishable but he seemed slightly familiar. There was a sharp prick in his neck. A chill ran down Kohaku's spine as he felt his brain start to tingle.
His fingers felt numb with coldness as he reached forward, grabbing a large knife. Something whispered faintly in the back of his mind and a shadowed face flashed momentarily in his mind's eye.
"Kohaku? Are you coming to watch this with us?" Sango called from the living room.
"Yes sister," he said dully, his fingers gripping the cool handle of the knife that he held tightly in his fingers. He slowly shuffled towards the living room.
Hoshiro turned around and grinned. "Come sit down with us, Oh-Martial-Arts-Master," he suddenly frowned. "Are you all right, Kohaku?"
Before anybody had registered what happened, Kohaku lunged forward, plunging the knife deep into Hoshiro's chest. His cousin gurgled, blood spilling out of his mouth as he collapsed, instantly dead, across the back of the couch.
Everybody was shocked into silence and stillness until his uncle suddenly gave a great shout, leaping forward to try to wrestle the knife from his nephew's cold fingers. But Kohaku found strength in himself that he normally would not have, and slammed the heel of his palm into his uncle's throat. He cleanly swiped the blade against his jugular three seconds later. The warm liquid spilled over Kohaku's hands, and down his uncle's broad chest. He stabbed him in the sternum next, bringing the knife down before pulling it out with force. The blood had sprayed part of his face.
Slowly, he turned to his father. The man's eyes were wide with terror and disbelief, as he slowly backed away from his son, his hands placed in a placating manner before him.
"Kohaku--my son, please drop the knife," he told him gently, but firmly. "Place the knife down, and we'll get help for you. I know you don't mean to do this, Kohaku."
Kohaku paused, the knife still raised. Sango was frozen to the spot, waiting to the side with baited breath, and then her eyes widened in sudden horror as she watched the scene play out in front of her.
Kohaku had thrown the knife, as if it was a dagger, towards their father. It landed with a muffled thud in the middle of the man's chest. His eyes had widened, holding the handle while blood oozed out over his hands.
"No!" Sango shrieked, rushing forward, but Kohaku had been faster as he dashed forward, wrenching the knife free from his father's body before slicing him violently across the throat. He quickly turned to his sister as she pushed him away. The knife pierced through her shoulder and she let out a scream of pain.
She was on top of him, straddling his waist in an effort to pin him down. Sango grabbed his wrists and slammed them forcefully on to the floor, making him release the bloody kitchen knife from his numb fingers.
"Kohaku, what's wrong with you?" she cried, before she was kicked off of his smaller body.
He got up, fists held out in front of him in a defensive manner, and then he sprung into action. Sango prepared herself for the attack, but he feinted and made a grab for the discarded knife instead.
He made as if to attack her, before he suddenly slowed down, coming to a halt. Sinking to his knees, a look of horror flashed across his features as he stared at his bloody hands.
"Sango, what have I done?" he whispered in horror.
"Oh, Kohaku," Sango cried, rushing forwards to embrace him. But Kohaku raised the knife, made as if to bring it down into his chest, but glancing at his sister, he brought it down across the skin on his wrist instead.
"No!" Sango screamed, grabbing hold of him. The knife dropped from his weakening fingers. "No Kohaku!"
He looked up at her, tears flowing down his cheeks as he choked on a whimper. "I'm sorry, Sango," he said weakly, his face pale, "I didn't mean to—"
He slumped in her arms.
"Oh, please, no--no," Sango quickly grabbed a blanket from the couch, wrapping hit around his bleeding wrist and squeezing the cut tightly. "Why did you hurt yourself? What happened?" she asked and received no answer. "Oh why--why?!" she cried, bringing him closer, ignoring the pain that reverberated in her wounded shoulder. She rocked him in her arms, before she shakily rose to her feet, her hand gripping her shoulder tightly. She reached the phone nearby and dialed the emergency number with shaky, pale fingers.
"Hello, how may I help you?"
"Hello?" Sango's voice trembled violently, she was starting to feel woozy, "I need ambulances and the police--my brother just killed my family. Please help he injured himself!" she begged, and a fresh wave of tears started anew.
She waited ten minutes until she heard the sirens in the distance. Sango still cradled Kohaku in her arms, holding him tightly to her chest as she stared blankly at the bloody corpse of her father. The door was kicked open and paramedics and police officers flooded in.
One set of paramedics first checked the pulses of her father, uncle, and cousin before shaking their heads sadly and putting them in thick, black body bags as others turned to her, where the police had already failed to get a response from Sango, as she clutched to her slowly dying brother.
One paramedic gently pried Kohaku out of her arms, before they put him on a stretcher and hurriedly wheeled him out of the house. They coaxed Sango to stand, and they too put her on a stretcher to be taken to the hospital.
They had believed her story; having found no evidence that it had been anyone else. Kohaku's fingerprints had been all over the murder weapon.
Since he was only eleven and therefore too young to be tried as an adult, he had been placed in a juvenile correction center. Two months later, he had been moved to an asylum after several attempts at suicide.
Sango had moved in with her best friend's family, at the Higurashi shrine. They had been good to her, and sympathetic, making her feel at home. But nothing could fill the void in Sango's aching heart.
After much persuasion from his stepmother and arguments from his father, Sesshoumaru gave in and took Rin to see a therapist. She had not spoken to anybody in the two weeks that she had been taken in to Sesshoumaru's care, and followed him everywhere he went—to his great annoyance.
Sesshoumaru took her to an old experienced psychiatrist called Kaede, whom had been recommended by his half-brother's friend. How the stupid girl had known about Kaede was beyond him; he didn't particularly care, either.
Rin now sat in a cozy office, facing the old woman. Kaede was perhaps in her late fifties, but looked a decade older because of the deep lines in her face and the eye patch that covered the socket where her right eye used to be. She had long, gray hair that was always loosely tied in a ponytail or a bun at the nape of her neck. She was kind, and Rin rather liked her.
"Are ye afraid to speak, child?" the old woman asked kindly during one of their sessions. Rin shook her head, looking up from a picture she was coloring.
Kaede's lips pursed in thought, "Hmm. I wonder then. Do ye perhaps—do ye not know how?"
Rin looked up with wide, brown eyes. Slowly she nodded.
Silently, Kaede watched as Rin finished drawing a rather childish picture of a person with long hair. Her lips quirked up in amusement and she chuckled softly.
"Is that Nakamura-sama?" she asked, referring to the girl's guardian. Rin's face brightened, and she nodded enthusiastically.
"Can you perhaps write down your age, child?" Kaede asked, leaning forward as Rin did so, her face pursed in concentration. She looked up and Kaede smiled.
"So ye are seven? Do you know your birthday?" Kaede asked. Rin nodded. "Can ye write that down too?"
Rin shook her head, her shoulders slumping. She did not know how to write very well.
Weeks had passed, and Kaede made progress with Rin, learning about her through Rin's pictures. Although Rin had still not spoken, Kaede had hope. Sesshoumaru had been getting impatient, however.
"Ye cannot rush a child into these things," Kaede had informed him calmly, although she rolled her remaining eye while he was looking elsewhere. "Besides, I am making progress with the girl. She does interact with others much more now, does she not?"
Sesshoumaru stayed silent, confirming the answer.
Later, during the session, Kaede had received a call.
"Excuse me, please," she said, stalking towards the phone on the desk. "Yes?" she answered. "Alright, put her on."
Seconds ticked by as Kaede listened to the voice on the other end. "Yes, Sango-san, I understand. I'm seeing him in about fifteen minutes, after the session I am in now. I believe in an hour would be a good time. Yes, no it is not a problem. Good-day to ye too."
Rin gave her a questioning look before Kaede granted her a grim smile. "I have other children that I need to help, and that was one of the children's sister. One of the boys resides here in the asylum, and it is very tragic. He's had a very traumatic experience, much like you." She sighed, glancing to the clock at her left. "Well, it's time your session's over, I'll escort you to the waiting room to greet Sesshoumaru."
She took Rin's hand, led her down the hall, and released it when she saw the white-haired demon in the waiting room.
Rin smiled, took a few steps forward before she faltered. Turning back she looked up into the aged face of Kaede.
Determined, she opened her mouth, her voice soft and quiet, "My name is Rin."
Rin hummed as she worked on a puzzle in Kaede's office. After the first time she had talked in so long, she had been unable to stop. Sesshoumaru regretted his decision of sending her to Kaede after that, preferring the quiet Rin much better.
But Rin had argued, begging Sesshoumaru to allow her to still see the old woman. Reluctantly, he agreed, and she spent much of her time in Kaede's office, sometimes helping her with errands while the other woman had her hands full.
Now eleven years old, Rin had seen her fair share of troubled children. Not that she let Kaede know it, but the woman was probably aware of her doing so. Rin liked to wander the halls, until security would bring her back to the entrance, assuring her that they would let Kaede know where she went.
A woman with black hair tied back and wearing white knocked on the door before granting herself permission to enter. Rin looked up curiously, pausing in her puzzle.
The woman looked young and rather bored. She didn't spare a glance at Rin before she spoke.
"Miyagi Sango requests you to come to room C112," she almost drawled, examining her nails and not hiding the fact that she'd rather be elsewhere.
Kaede sighed. "Yes, thank ye, Kagura, I will be there in but a moment."
The old woman's joints creaked as she heaved herself up, following the woman to look after a patient at the asylum.
Rin turned back to her puzzle, resuming her humming as she placed a few more pieces into their correct spots. Then she followed, careful to keep out of sight.
Thankfully, she had not run in to anybody as she zigzagged through the halls, knowing exactly how to get to the room after all the time she spent snooping. She had to go to the third floor.
Finding the room, Rin tiptoed to it. The door was open ajar. She peeked in.
A boy around fifteen or sixteen was sitting slouched on the bed, wearing white. His arms were wrapped in bandages and his hands were manacled together.
A pretty woman a few years older with a weary face spoke quietly across the room to Kaede.
"How much longer does he need to be here?" she asked, her eyes glistening. "I was so happy he was released the first time but-"she gestured to his bandaged wrists.
"When he stops," Kaede informed him. "But it is not entirely up to me to decide. In the meantime Kohaku needs to be kept here."
A hand landed on Rin's shoulder, causing the girl to jump and gasp in surprise. She did not notice that the boy's eyes had darted to the doorway, spotting Rin.
Kagura's red eyes stared down at her with an eyebrow raised. Sighing dejectedly, Rin looked back in to the room and was caught by surprise when her eyes met that of the boy's. She stared before Kagura gave her shoulder a slight squeeze and she reluctantly began walking down the hall; where she would take the elevator down to go to the front entrance.
"Caught me again, Kagura-san," she said with a small smile.
"Hmph," Kagura grunted. "I hate when you do this, Rin. Well, I guess I'll have to call that miserable excuse for a man to come get you."
Rin allowed herself a smirk. "Yes, because it is so terrible for you to do so."
Kagura glared down at her, her glare more intense because of her blood-colored eyes. Instead of replying with a comment like Rin expected she would, however, she merely grunted.
It was fifteen minutes later when she was driving the way home with an irritable Sesshoumaru. He was muttering darkly under his breath.
"You know, Sesshoumaru-sama," Rin said slyly, "I think Kagura likes you."
She watched his face for a reaction, and took delight when she saw his eyebrow twitch.
"I mean, she always waits with me until you pick me up," Rin continued. "She doesn't have to do that."
His eyebrow twitched again.
"You seem to talk about her a lot, perhaps you like her t-"
"Enough, Rin," Sesshoumaru demanded tersely with a snarl forming on his lips.
Rin beamed at him and snuggled in the back of her seat; content with staring out the window at the buildings she passed by.
But she couldn't forget about that sad boy she saw with the bandaged wrists…Kohaku.
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