Bound by Corruption by BelovedStranger

Everyone Lies

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Word Count: 3,318

HE WAS INSANE.

Kagome stared into the dead eyes of her captor. No, not dead, not completely. There was heat. A spark of… She flinched, identifying it as desire.

The warlord who fell in love.

No, Tatsuo was wrong. It was not love that stared back at her from Onigumo’s eyes but lust. Worse, a crazed infatuation.

Obviously, Tatsuo was the greatest threat in the room, but she would be foolish to discount Onigumo. The bandit warlord’s reputation preceded him, and she had to suppress a shiver of foreboding at having caught his attention.

She couldn’t think about that. Her gaze returned to Tatsuo while keeping Onigumo in her peripheral. The warlord made it easy. He hadn’t moved far but returned to his place across her futon. Kagome kept her back against the wall, wishing she had her bow and quiver. “I don’t know what he’s promised you, but you can’t trust him, Onigumo.”

“As you trust Sesshomaru?”

“Don’t bother trying to turn my contractor against me, miko-dono. It is far too late for him to turn back now—or for you.”

Tatsuo’s ending threat was nearly lost in her shock as she turned back to Onigumo. “You made a contract? With him?”

“Don’t look so surprised,” Tatsuo replied. “Have you not made your own connection with Sesshomaru?”

“But you hate youkai!”

“What did you say?!”

Both Kagome and Onigumo spoke at the same time, but while she kept her gaze squarely on the warlord, Onigumo shot a glance at Tatsuo before settling a glare on her.

“Kagome.” Each syllable was said with exaggerated enunciation, and the look in Onigumo’s eyes sent fear through her heart.

If she could have moved further away from him, she would have. Unfortunately, he had her all but pinned against the wall. Even if she somehow got passed him, there was still Tatsuo. The youkai did not stand between her and the door, but he might as well have. He’d catch her before she could even take a single step should she give in to the need to run. 

“You have been a very naughty miko, making contracts with daemons. It would appear your precious sister has failed to teach you not to associate with their ilk, but never fear. I will be sure to educate you so that you never make such an error again,” Onigumo assured with dark promised.

Before she could speak passed the fear choking her, Tatsuo interrupted. “You mistake me, contractor. It is not an inugami’s contract that binds our lovely miko to the daemon lord.” Unease tightened her stomach as Tatsuo flashed fangs, his smile beautiful but empty. “She’s his possession.”

Both Onigumo and Kagome spoke at once. “What?!”

A wave of emotion forced her a step from the wall, forgetting her fear of the warlord before her as she slashed the air in front of her with the flat of her hand. “Now I know you speak false, daemon! And you!”

She turned her anger on Onigumo. “You dare judge me for my association with a youkai, while here you are, making a contract with one! I think I understand now. Tatsuo saved you from the fire, didn’t he? Not only that, but you allowed him to use his magic on you so you would be healed.”

She gestured at Onigumo, encapsulating his whole form with the wave of her hand, and the ease at which he was able to stand and move around, which should have been impossible. Sesshomaru had shattered his knee.

She sneered. “How easily conviction falls to the wayside of self-preservation. Or is your hatred for youkai just another one of your lies? Are you even capable of speaking honestly? Or can you not recognize the truth anymore?”

Onigumo’s brows furrowed and when he took a step towards her, arms lifted as though to touch her, to hold her, she jerked back. Or tried to. Instead, she smacking into the wall. “Don’t touch me!”

He lowered his arms but he stared at her, eyes imploring. “Doubt me if you will, but you cannot trust this Sesshomaru. He’s lying to you!”

“Name one!” she shot back, shouting, defiant.

Tatsuo was the one to answer. “I can name several.” Kagome’s gaze flew back to ice blue eyes with a feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach at the calm certainty staring back at her, and something more. A twinkle sparkled in the corner of the inugami’s eyes.

“Little does he realize, but I have been watching Sesshomaru for quite some time now.” With a wave of his hand, an oval mirror framed in white gold hovered before him and between his spread hands. The glass reflected nothing but the shadows of the darkened room, when all at once, the image of Sesshomaru appeared. Kagome gasped, taking another unconscious step forward.

She saw him, Sesshomaru’s silver hair whipping behind his magnificent form, and he was running, rain peltering him. Then the image vanished.

Stunned, Kagome had to force herself from running up to Tatsuo and take possession of the strange mirror to try and force it to show her Sesshomaru. “A trick,” she said instead, only half-believing.

“No trick,” Tatsuo returned, making Kagome lurched forward when the mirror evaporated in a vapor of black smoke. “The Mirror of Seeing does not lie. I have seen,” he asserted, “you and Sesshomaru.” A smirk. “Along with our warlord, here.”

Kagome barely spared Onigumo a glance, suddenly desperate to return to Sesshomaru. Not because she was afraid, or that she probably needed help getting out of the mess she found herself in—though both were undoubtedly true, but to assure herself that he was truly alright.

Where was he?

Was he looking for her? With the heavy rainfall, would he even be able to follow her scent?

If she were to take the mirror, could she communicate with him? Even if she could somehow steal the daemon’s mirror undetected—taking it by force was even more laughable, Kagome didn’t have a clue as to where she was to help Sesshomaru locate her.

Tatsuo continued, unaware of her thoughts. “It was all a marvelous performance. The fair maiden, leaving her crippled patient, unaware that danger stalked them. The moment your back was turned, the villain revealed himself and his wicked plot to our hapless warlord, for you see, it was Sesshomaru who unveiled Onigumo’s identity to the town’s people, and it was Sesshomaru who inciting them to burn the warlord alive. Ah, but the fair maiden returned too soon. Very magnanimous of you, miko-dono, to try to rescue the very man who condemned your family to die. Death by fire. A fitting end to our warlord, don’t you think, considering Onigumo had your village burned to the ground.”

Kagome shook her head, a denial on her lips, only to draw up short, remembering. Sesshomaru had never said a word and she’d never asked, assuming it was bad luck that Onigumo had been identified. And fortuitous that Sesshomaru had appeared, out of nowhere. At that exact moment.

The fair maiden. Leaving her crippled patient.

The moment your back was turned.

 It couldn’t be.

“Or, the day Sesshomaru let your village burn.”

Kagome felt as though an arrow had stricken her heart. “No.” A whisper, a weak denial.

“Yes. I saw it all. The bandits’ approach, and Sesshomaru, watching it all happen. Watching you from the sky, protecting you from those who would stop you from reaching your home. He could have saved them. Instead, he let your family die.”

“No!” Her voice had regained its strength as she stomped her foot, the gesture lost when the bedding cushioned her socked foot. “Sesshomaru wasn’t there! He told me himself.”

“He wouldn’t lie to you?”

“He’s always been upfront,” she hedged, uncertain.

“Always?”

Onigumo stepped towards her. “Don’t be a fool, Kagome.” He slapped a hand to his chest. “Look at me! I’m living proof of Sesshomaru’s falsehoods.”

“I don’t know that! I never asked him what happened.” The confession made her face burn with shame. “I just assumed… I never learned how the villagers found out.” She should have asked rather than make vague assumptions. No, it was more than that. She’d been distracted by her search for Kikyo. By her attraction for Sesshomaru. She’d put her own wants above another’s well-being. Selfishly.

“Kagome—”

“No!” She pointed at him, her finger shaking, her emotions roiling. “I can’t trust the word of a criminal! I won’t!”  

He released an exasperated breath while shoving a hand through his hair. “Listen to me! He’s lying to you—”

“I don’t have to believe a word you say!”

“You don’t have to, but you do.”

Suddenly, a wall appeared not a foot in front of Kagome’s face. Her head fell back, her neck arching at a painful angle. Glacial eyes stared down at her, causing her heart to stutter in her chest. Tatsuo! And he was crowding her against the wall at her back. He wasn’t actually touching her, but he was far too close, and he was taller than he appeared from across the room. Her neck was developing a crick just to stare up at his face. A mistake, for it bared her throat, but she couldn’t look away, and not because his gaze bespelled her like a certain seer she knew.

No, his mere presence demanded her attention. Every hair on her body stood on end, instinct warning her. She didn’t dare look away from the danger suffocating her with his presence.

Unconsciously, her fingers lifted and found the torque beneath her fingers. A wave of relief washed over her that it hadn’t been taken. In fact, she’d woken in her clothing she’d been given in the spirit world, but her bow and quiver were notably absent.

Ice blue eyes drifted down, tracking the movement of her hand. A cold smile split his lips. “Far be it for me to steal a gift freely given.”

He knew what it was.

How long had he been watching Sesshomaru—and her?

“Tatsuo.” Onigumo. His voice was spoken low, in warning. Was Onigumo trying to protect her from Tatsuo?

This situation couldn’t be real. Surely, she was still dreaming?

“Do you believe I intend to cause her harm, Onigumo?” Tatsuo asked without taking his eyes from her, disturbing her. Then he seemed to dismiss the other man’s presence.

“I sense the mark upon you.” An insidious murmur. Despite herself, it drew her in. “No longer are you Sesshomaru’s contractor—if you ever were. You, my dear Kagome, are his pet. A possession he intends to keep. For a time. Until he grows bored and abandons you.”

Each word sliced into her like knives, but none of them hurt quite like that last remark. It hit too close to home.

Hadn’t Sesshomaru abandoned her once before?

He came back! That desperate rebuttal was becoming less convincing with each recital.

She swallowed passed the lump in her throat. “Liar.” Soft as a whisper, as weak as a leaf lost in a storm.

“Any daemon can sense the mark upon you. He bit you, didn’t he?” Fingers ghosted over her throat, making her flinch, but she had nowhere to go, nowhere to run. “Even without the scent of old blood, I would know it was…here. A mark of ownership. Tell me, miko-dono. Did he wish for you to mark him in return? No?” He crooned at her. “Poor little pet, you have been sorely mistreated. Neglected.”

His touch lifted to her hair. He was stroking her, petting her. “I can feel your bitterness. Hatred emanates from you. It leaves a noticeable dark blotch on that pure light of yours. Don’t be shy. Embrace your darkness. Let it consume you.”

Suddenly, he sighed, an exhalation conveying his derision, but his next remark wasn’t meant for her. “Do not be so crass, Onigumo,” Tatsuo chastised without turning to look at the warlord. “Your thoughts are disgusting. I am not you.”

Tatsuo had read Onigumo’s mind. She could only imagine what had been said. It hardly mattered. Not right now. Instead, it was a revelation. The two did share a contract. Or, was an inugami capable of communicating telepathically with anyone? At anytime. Was her own contract even real, or a lie from the start? No, no. Otherwise, wouldn’t Tatsuo be communicating with her telepathically? Yet, he did not.

When she spoke, her voice came out strained. “If you don’t back away from me this instant, you’ll regret it.”

“Threatening me?” Tatsuo murmured, appearing unconcerned. “As I said, I do not intend to harm you.” But he would. She saw the knowledge in the hollowness of his gaze. “I offer you a gift. The power and resolve to obtain the vengeance you so righteously crave. Do not deny yourself such pleasure. I won’t allow it.”

An inugami did nothing for free, she knew, but Tatsuo didn’t give her the option to accept—or refuse. He placed his large palm over her heart and began to murmur in a language she did not understand. Kagome hesitated a second too long. Magic surrounded her, poured into her.

She stiffened. “Stop!”

SESSHOMARU STARED DOWN at the corpse. The kill was fresh, the blood still wet, soaking into the dirt. Staining the girl’s clothing. Splattered across her young face. She’d been mauled, chunks of muscles torn away. Consumed. Upon his arrival, his presence had scared off a pack of wolves who’d been in the middle of devouring their fallen prey.

Black hair obscured part of her face, matted with dirt and blood. Sightless eyes stared vacantly back at him, passed the ability to see him.

He’d been following the miko’s scent. She hadn’t been where he’d left her. The small fire had still been lit, flames scotching the hare he’d caught for her earlier. Untouched. The stench of burnt flesh permeated the air. He hadn’t wasted a moment before he was running, following her trail. His senses went out, but other than the animals of the forest, there was no sign of sentient life. The miko couldn’t have gotten far on her own. But something was wrong. Even with the torque he’d procured for her, he should have been able to sense her presence. Unless she was purposefully shielding from him, now that she had newfound mastery over her powers.

Or, she was dead.

That left him with only one means of tracking her. Her scent, and she hadn’t been alone. He ran faster, until he came to the corpse.

A human

But not his human.

Sesshomaru stared down at the child dispassionately. All the while, foreign feelings surged just beneath his cool façade. He’d lost Kagome’s trail. She was missing and his only lead was dead.

Dead but not wholly useless. He sensed it, another presence overshadowing the scent of blood and death, and with it, everything became clear. He could picture it in his own mind’s eye: his miko, leaving the safety of their temporary camp to follow this child, who led her further and further away—from him. The child had been nothing more than a means to an end, a lure for his all too gullible miko. It explained why her trail had just disappeared. She’d been taken.

“Tatsuo.” The name was said without inflection, but inside, turbulence raged.

All at once, he stiffened, his youki flaring in a blistering torrent. He felt his face elongate. Fangs lengthened, a snout forming, but the transformation was suspended. Half man, half daemon. He didn’t need a looking glass to know his face had become a living nightmare. That his eyes had shifted, becoming too large for his face, that the whites of his eyes had been overtaken by crimson, his irises glowing a cerulean blue, with fur covering his alabaster skin.

His pet had been taken, and he would have vengeance. No one stole from him and lived.

Inugami were a cunning breed of inuyoukai, capable of taking possession of weaker minds. For a time, this human child had been a daemon host, slave to another’s will. Only the most discerning would have been able to sense the inugami’s presence housed within. A miko would not have been fooled for long, no matter how well the inugami could suppress his presence. But not until she got close. By then, it was too late.

He was about to turn and charge into the forest when a dark, vaporous mist caught his attention from the corner of his eye. He turned with a beastly snarl, causing the imps of the underworld to draw back in fear. And floating above the unmoving chest was a bright orb of light.

The girl’s soul.

The child’s usefulness had come to an end, yet he hesitated when one of the swords at his left hip pulsated. He felt it. A ringing that did not reach his ears. The sword pulsed again, insistent.

As his gaze shifted to the blade at his side, his youki subsided, causing a change to his half-transformed state. He felt his fur retreat, the bones in his face retracted as he reverted back to his humanoid form, contemplating this unexpected turn of events.

Never had his father’s fang called to him, but it clamored for his attention now. He was half-tempted to ignore the useless antique when he stared back at the dead girl. The imps had ahold of her soul. A second later and they would have been gone, returning to the underworld with their prize in tow, but the moment his regard returned to them, they froze.

They saw him. And were afraid, because they knew he could see them.

A smirk slashed his mouth, cruelty personified. In one swift motion, he reached across his body and unsheathed Tenseiga, before swinging. Imperceptible by his ears, he heard the two imps shriek as the blade sliced through their molten forms. There was no blood. The sword sliced through their insubstantial forms, cutting them in half. The pieces disappeared, evaporating back to the underworld. Leaving the soul behind.

Sesshomaru felt a moment’s hesitation, uncertain as to what he was supposed to do next, but the blade pulsed. Obeying Tenseiga’s bidding with another slash, he cut through the corpse. As with the incorporeal imps, the blade went through the girl’s body without leaving the barest mark.

He waited. Then he heard it. A heartbeat. Another.

On the third, he felt his eyes grow wide, his breath catching. The child’s chest moved, rising then falling, only to rise again. Then she groaned and blinked her eyes open owlishly. In that moment, he made another discovery, insignificant compared to the power of Tenseiga, but he noted it all the same. The girl’s eyes were brown, and they were staring at him in vague confusion.

He smiled, uncaring that the girl saw his fangs as he stared at his blade. Tenseiga. A celestial blade, bequeathed to him by his great and terrible father after his untimely demise.

Never had Sesshomaru wielded the blade. What use was a blade that could not cut?

How many nevers of his were coming to an end? What had been the catalyst? The miko?

Tenseiga, a sentient weapon, had a will of its own—by denying his. For half a century, Sesshomaru had been carrying around a useless relic. Not for any sentimental value, but as a reminder of his father’s foolishness.

Why had Tenseiga decided to awaken now? Why save this girl? A stranger. A worthless ningen.

Useless contemplations. His eyes darted into the forest, ignoring the girl who’d begun to squirm around at his feet.

He’d wasted enough time. He didn’t need the girl anymore. He knew exactly where Tatsuo would be. He knew because he understood that Tatsuo wanted to be found. And there could be only one place.

The site that should have been Tatsuo’s grave.