Aim
I watched the green kimono move with the practiced eye of a hunter stalking its pray. Most would think that what I did was easy, just reach out and clamp on, instinctual like a baby learning to feed. But the process was much more complicated than that; much more involved. First, I had to study my prey, watch its movements, judge its mood. At any given moment the demon slayer could change her path responding to Kagome’s call or Kirara’s purr. She could hear something in the forest behind us, or start from a popping in the fire. She could hear me approaching, slowly on light feet, and scurry away like a deer that has caught the thick and tainted smell of a wolf in the air. She could do any number of things and I must be ready to respond just as quickly if I wanted to feel that soft yet firm muscle twitch beneath my cursed hand.
But I am good at what I do. I never miss. Maybe this coupled with my overconfidence in my trade was what fueled the events of that fateful day. Maybe I was just careless. All I know was on that day when my soft feet crept along the grass inching towards my prize, when my hand reached out to touch that portal of nirvana, I miscalculated. I failed to see the flash of fur as Shippo, who had been spending the last few moments taunting a peevish hanyou in some corner of my conscious sight, darted into the clearing. The small body was followed by a much larger one clad in red and fuming from head to foot with pure untamed rage. My mind did not grasp these things until it was too late and as I felt my cursed hand close over a bottom much less curved and much more toned with muscle and sinew, my life flashed before my eyes in a way no demon crawling from the pits of the darkest recesses of hell can ever inspire.
My heart pounded; my soul shrieked at the foolishness of my folly, cursing me for shortening my already miniscule lifespan. I was frozen, my lips unable to form the apology, the pure and simple groveling that may, but most likely, would not save my life. With a strange mix of curiosity and fascination, I watched the eyes of the hanyou turn from where he froze, the curve of his behind still cupped in my hand. Shock and anger swirled dizzily, and I got the impression that his mind was whirling quickly in an attempt to settle on the torturous and sadistic actions which would form his revenge on me. Then, those eyes narrowed and a small smirk formed on his lips.
Inuyasha began to turn causing my nerves to fire sparks of panic that begged my lead legs to obey; to run in one last attempt to salvage my cruel and pitiful life. But then those honey eyes turned and locked on me; transfixing me with a snake-like hypnosis. I could not move, I could not breath. My hand dropped limp to my side as my life force seemed to drain out of me. The eyes whispered anger and in them I saw reflected a thousand unique ways to die, each one enough to make even Sesshomaru howl as they relived themselves night after night in a person’s dreams. My very heart threatened to stop as the hanyou lips curled into almost a maddening smile. Then very purposely the hanyou winked at me with the innocence of a child and my body slid to the ground as darkness overshadowed my sight. I have no memory after that.
(A.N. Hi everyone long time no see. .. (author backs away as readers stare at her murderously) I know I know I have not Witten in forever but college sucks and I rarely have time. I am trying though. This story itself was written in between studying for a major bio test. (which the author felt a pang of guilt with every word she wrote as her bio notes stared mockingly at her.) But after this I have maybe a week before I have another round of intense studying to do so I will try and get something done in that time. Please be patient and keep reading.)
