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Disgusting, disgusting, disgusting.
That’s all she hears. When she’s doing her best to be of use in the village, when she’s trying to weave baskets for the old ladies, when she’s trying to prove her worth by fishing for the men in the river-
Only to be beaten every single time.
Disgusting.
Disgusting.
Disgusting .
There are times when she does get fed up, but she never speaks out. Never.
She’s usually cautious and aware of how badly she can be hit if she steps out of line. However, today was not one of those days. Thinking about how badly she screwed up, she felt her stomach churn, face to face with a couple of the men in the village.
She wasn’t very tall (frankly the opposite, coming up to about their chest), so she lay down on the dirt floor, her face pale with fear and slick with sweat, the only colors being the bruises sprinkled across her face, arms, legs…
But she couldn't feel them. It’s been months, days, years, who knew , since she had stopped feeling. It wasn’t the pain that frightened her, but the lack of reaction she felt.
Since when had I started not feeling anything? Rin asked herself, her gut wrenching with horror. She couldn’t feel anything as the man clenched his fist and brought it down on her shoulder. She only felt the empty space within herself, as if she was floating, as if she was somewhere else. No matter how many times she got beaten, she could only think, this isn’t real, right? nothing here is real, right? - over and over. Never ceasing. A never-ending realm of horror and sickness.
She would often go back home to the village ladies, motioning to the jars of salve to rub on her wounds to stop any possible infection. The ladies would scoff, complaining that she never helped (she did but would they let her ? no, they never did), and in the end, quite possibly a small part of their hearts felt bad and gave her what she needed. They often told her this is how things are, the men lash out, and she’ll just have to take it. It’s one of the truths of the world.
Cowering before these men now, she knew in her heart that was false.
That’s wrong. If the world allows for brutal violence of kids like me, then-
She clenched her teeth as the man brought down a foot on her back. She willed herself not to say anything, to not verbally react.
-then I want no part in it.
The weight of what she had thought crashed down on her. The men, mistaking her fearful look to be towards their violence, simply scowled and continued yelling harsh things, about how she’ll never amount to anything. The sheer hypocrisy and repulsion of it all made her want to vomit. But what feared her more were the thoughts in her mind.
Taking no part in it…?
No. I won’t run away. I won’t try and escape a world that does not treat me well.
The men had wooden sticks now. As much as she no longer felt pain, the old fear of the poles and branches they found to hit her with made her very blood freeze. She told herself to run but knew it was useless. They’ll catch up to her and it’d be much worse.
I won’t escape.
The men leered over her, raising their weapons.
If I can’t escape…
The fear made her stomach turn. She brought her arms up to her face, curling in a ball. Protecting herself.
I’ll change the world.
Something stirred in her heart. The pounding of the men with their lumps of wood, the scoffs from the passersby’s faded to the side.
I can change the world.
The thought rang true. She didn’t know how, or even exactly what she would do, but she knew that’s what she could do.
What she had to do.
One of the men grabbed her hair, slamming her head into the ground. She let out a scream, muffled in the dirt. Her sides were bleeding, her arms sore, cut, bruised-
But she didn’t cry.
She would never let them have that satisfaction.
The men jeered at her, then turned and left.
As the story goes, the village jerks move on when their prey has been defeated…
She shifted, willing her arms to push her upwards, for her legs to hold her up.
With an unsettling pit of fear opening in her stomach, she realized she had no energy left to get up. Whether it was from the beatings she endured or the emotional turbulence that sapped her of her strength she didn’t know. She sighed, a hiss through her teeth, and lay there.
Blackness surrounded the edge of her vision. The world tilted sideways. A slight fear creeped at the edge of her mind. Am I going to die??? Right as I figure what I want to do in this horrible, cruel world???
The world twisted and spun.
Then darkness.
---------------------------------------------------
She awoke in the arms of an older person. She didn’t know who, but her eyes snapped open, seeing the mysterious figure cradling her in his arms. He looked about the age of a young adult (maybe twenty or nineteen?), which snowy white hair that barely touched the floor. His face was hard to make out (since her eye had swollen shut) but he was beautiful, she could tell. Almost an inhuman beauty.
Seeing she had awoken, he gave her a look. It was a cold one - not empty, nor evil, but cold. She had seen people give her cold looks before, but this person, Rin realized, didn’t have the malicious look the villagers would have. He didn’t look down on her and see her as worthless.
No…
“I’m not going to eat you,” the man said. Eat? Why would he think I would assume… Rin looked at him closer. Even with one eye, she could make out his pointed ears.
A demon!
“Do not scream nor make a fuss,” he spoke, his voice a mixture of soothing and cold emotion. “I merely require you, little human girl, for assistance on a project of mine.”
Project?
“I do, however, require your name. What is it?”
My name, my name…
What is my name?
She tried to find her voice, but found her tongue in her mouth, sitting there, useless. She couldn’t say a word. She opened her mouth and then closed it.
Still, nothing.
Hours passed. The demon - Sesshomaru, he later said his name was - didn’t say a word, either. It was as if he did want her name, but was giving her time to say it.
Time… time.
If only she had that before.
There was something about this demon’s eyes. A golden yellow, eyes she felt comfort in. When he looked at her, it wasn’t with scorn or hatred, but patience.
Patience…
“Rin.”
He nearly stopped, he was quite surprised to hear her speak. “Rin?”
She nodded.
“Rin. My name is Rin.”