A/N: This is actually the first fanfic I ever wrote, even though it's not the first one I posted. So forgive me if it's not as good. Btw, there will be 14 chapters. Oh, and my whole goal with this story was to hurt Inuyasha in as many ways and as often as possible. I think I succeeded. But that also means that it got a bit redundant. And in the way of warning, there is almost no focus on any other character. But in spite of my own misgivings, I hope you enjoy it!
Painful Tribulations of the Half-Demon
Chapter 1
"Damn it, I hate the night of the New Moon."
"Oh, relax, Inuyasha," admonished Kagome, a pretty young woman in a modern Japanese school uniform. "It's only one night." As Inuyasha flicked his annoyed eyes toward her he could see the firelight shining orange across her face.
"Yeah, one night when I don't have my powers as a half-dog-demon; my sword can't even transform! Ugh, humans are so weak!" growled Inuyasha. He folded his arms in contempt, sending his black, hip-length, straight hair to rustling over his scarlet hitatare. Made from the fur of the fire rat, it was his version of armor.
"Would you two stop it? You're always arguing about everything," interjected Miroku (the not-so-religious monk) while he adjusted in agitation the cloth and prayer beads encircling his right forearm, wrist, and hand.
"Yeah! And look, the food's ready!" cried the young fox demon Shippo as he reached for a fish-on-a-stick. His huge, fluffy, light brown tail fluttered in delight. "Mmm. De-li-cious!"
Sango, too, uprooted one of the speared fish where it was wedged in the ground to roast. The professional demon-slayer set down her weapon (a huge bone boomerang called the Hiraikotsu) to enjoy her meal. As Sango sat, cross-legged on the ground, and began eating, her loyal, sweet, two-tailed demon cat, neomata, jumped into her lap; silently, Kirara begged for a bite.
"Feh. Fine, then." Inuyasha grumbled, even as he sat cross-legged by the fire and snatched the largest fish.
Hidden in the bushes beyond the light of the group's campfire, several black-clad men squatted, listening. Their faces were smeared with mud to blend their light skin into the night. Whispering together, occasionally pointing and gesturing to the other group, they gathered together their supplies: strange balls made of herbs and explosives, chains, locks, coils of rope, and sundry tools. A wagon, too, sat drenched in darkness farther behind them.
Dirty eyebrows lifted in shock at "half-dog-demon." "Did you hear that?" one of the men muttered. "The one in red is a half-demon! How are we going to deal with that? And look – that cat and boy they have with them are definitely suspicious. Maybe they're demons!"
"Calm down. You're a professional! Of course we know how to take care of them. But they aren't worth the trouble. Our clients won't take demons. A half-demon, on the other hand, can be controlled. They're valuable work animals. That one is a human now, and vulnerable." The speaker grinned. "I think I've got just the thing for it."
The man who spoke was dignified in bearing, even crouched in shadow. The others clearly had respect for him, listening carefully to each word, though they kept an eye on their targets and surroundings. The first man who spoke, obviously the newest member, nodded, too eagerly, as soon as the other man began talking. He breathed more slowly and gently, his eyes no longer flicking from side to side in anxiety. The rest of them ignored their brother's nervousness, entirely impassive themselves.
Finally, they were ready.
In complete silence, three men each took an odd sphere. Two rushed around quietly, flanking the other troupe who sat laughing and bickering, unaware of their imminent fate. The three lifted arms in unison and threw their rough, tightly packed balls at the perimeter of the group. A blast of haze instantaneously formed, causing their targets to hack and cough desperately. One by one, their victims' eyes rolled backward and they fell, unconscious.