InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ And all else will fade ❯ Fading... ( Chapter 1 )

And all else will fade…

 

Miroku

 

It was the end of the world.

 

A bottomless chasm stretched out as far as the eye could see, and beyond, to infinite space, dotted with twinkling stars. It was truly where heaven met Earth; where the poor mortal souls were reminded that everything they did was watched by the Divine Entity above, that their fates were mastered by a greater Force than could ever be imagined. I shivered in the cold and awe.

 

Kagome came up beside me, wrapping her thick coat closer around her body. “It is a pretty big cliff, isn't it?”

 

The casualness and complete disregard in her voice annoyed me slightly. It was a work of Divine Art, and yet the young priestess chose to treat it as any normal cliff? Maybe in the future, in her time, there were places more awe-inspiring than this. Maybe it was just the arrogance that accompanied people from the future. Maybe…

 

Sango, from where she was sitting beside the fire, warming her hands, spoke. “Yeah. But Kirara can take us over easily, I guess.”

 

Oh. Maybe I was the only one. The only one with any sort of imagination, poetic sense, feeling… And all these induced by what?, a sly voice asked within me. I chose to ignore it. Sure, my… creative talents have been honed over the years by wooing many a young woman, but I must admit, such spontaneity was rather unnatural.

 

A small tingle from my right hand interrupted my thoughts. I looked down to the cursed hand, my forehead creasing. Oh, well. My sudden increase in poetic talents was definitely the least of my worries, now.

 

Sango seemed to have noticed my looking at my cursed hand, for she came up to me, her eyes filled with concern. “Is anything wrong, Miroku?” she asked. I grinned easily at her. “Nothing at all, my dear Sango,” I said, my hand moving deftly toward her bottom. “But I thank you for-”

 

Slap!

 

I found myself on the ground, my cheek burning as if it were on fire, and Sango glowering over me. “Stupid pervert,” she hissed, turning on her heel. Inu Yasha gave a small chuckle as I got painfully to my feet. “You thank her for that?” he asked mockingly.

 

I shot him a cold look. “I think it seems obvious to any body with brains here that it was not what I was thanking her for.”

 

Inu Yasha scowled. “Yeah, yeah,” he said dismissively, from the tree he was lying on. “I was just joking, ya know.”

 

Shippo put an air of mock surprise. “Inu Yasha cracked a joke? Something must be wrong! You sure he doesn't have a fever or-” He was interrupted by Inu Yasha jumping down and driving his knuckles into Shippo's head. The young fox-demon squealed and started running, Inu Yasha following him round and round the tree, until the two collapsed, and we had nearly fainted with the dizziness of watching them.

 

Finally the camp settled down for some sleep. Inu Yasha settled comfortably on the tree branch, the half-demon's ears perked up; Kagome and Sango in their sleeping bags and Shippo sleeping snuggled against Kirara's body. I leant against the tree Inu Yasha was on, in my meditating pose, arms folded, head down, eyes seemingly closed… but not really asleep. Nowadays, I was actually afraid to sleep; afraid of my dreams. The weight of the black hole in my hand on my mind was not noticeable outside, but it was there- the fear- simmering within me. As the occasional jolts of pain from my black hole grow more frequent, so would my dreams- dreams painted with blood, sadness, pain, loss… a whirlwind of darkness that swallows all light, all love, all hope; that swallows itself, leaving nothing but an infinite black.

 

I shuddered and cursed myself for re-entering that course of thought. It wouldn't do anything other than despair me, and despair was exactly what I didn't need. I had realised this from a very early point in my life: that moping about my fate was only going to get me killed, and that the short life I would get to live would be full of useless sorrow. I had to keep on trying and live life to the fullest when I could. I had to maintain a cheerful façade outside, to hide the pain and fear within. It is ironic, I realise now, that I blame Sango for the same thing: burying her sorrow over Kohaku and her family; trying to be brave, bottling up her emotions to the point where it could even be dangerous to her and those around her. Ultimately, in situations like mine and Sango's, it's a battle between normal human nature and our will.

 

Usually, it is human nature that wins.

 

That's part of the reason I possess such a… flirtatious nature, I suppose (along with the dratted genes): to keep too busy to acknowledge human nature's victory, especially at the end of an exhausting day, where the momentary pleasure I obtain while with beautiful women is a temporary alembic to my emotional pain.

 

Temporary.

 

I sighed and opened my eyes, abandoning all pretence of sleep. I stared at the last crackles of the ebbing fire, prodding it gently with a stick. I marvelled at the shadows the flames threw over Sango's beautiful face, bringing out an ethereal, angelic beauty in her as she slept peacefully. Well… not peacefully. The slightest twitch of her eyebrows, the gentle downward tug her lovely lips took occasionally, a regular flickering of her eyelashes… they stirred the calm beauty of her face, being plain indicators to me that she was dreaming about her brother and the massacre of her village again. I wished sincerely that I could do something to ease her sorrow…

 

Maybe one of the reasons I've become more emotional, more susceptible to my inner demons is because of… her. I've been with many women, and, speaking in strictly a third observer's terms, more than a few of them were more beautiful than Sango. But all of them had been empty vessels: beautiful, but with no matter of importance within them. Sango, though…

 

Sango was beautiful in every way imaginable- in the depth of not only her physical features, but also of her character, her courage, the quiet dignity with which she carried herself… those subtle gestures of compassion she showed frequently… all those made her beautiful in a way no woman in Japan, okay, the world could ever be. I had been taken in by her right from the, well, second time we saw each other: the first time she rewarded me with a slap for my movements toward her. That was when I truly fell for her, in a way different from any other woman.

 

My eyes strayed involuntarily from her face to my rosary-covered right hand.

 

And yet…

 

I just didn't want to cause her further pain.

 

Suddenly, at that moment, I felt inexplicably tired, deflated, exhausted with coping with everything; putting on a mask of perennial cheerfulness and fun. My eyelids drooped, as if pulled down by heavy weights. The blanket of sleep beckoned invitingly to my tired body. I made one last, futile attempt to stay awake, away from those dreams… but finally I had to give in. Another win for human nature, I thought almost bitterly, before my mind slipped into sleep.

 

Strangely, this time, I didn't dream at all.

 

……………………… ;…………………………R 30;…………………………&# 8230;………………………… .

 

 

The morning came in all its glory, wonderful sunshine sweeping over my sleeping form, the lush green landscape and the ring of charcoal and stones that had once been a fire. The dark, almost sinister nature of the woods nearby dissipated immediately, and the `end of the world' was proved to have a bottom; it created an aura of peacefulness and natural oneness that had never failed to rejuvenate anyone. I opened my eyes to this beautiful sight, taking deep breaths of fresh air and with much stretching of limbs (mainly to fix that inevitable cramp in the neck), I stood up, automatically reaching for my staff, where I usually kept it: by my side. After a few moments of groping, I turned my eyes toward the spot.

 

It was not there.

 

What?! When my staff went missing, it meant something was wrong; terribly wrong. No, rephrase that, I felt something was terribly wrong. Without my staff in my hand, I always feel… vulnerable.

Still groping around frantically, I got to my feet. “Hey, Inu Yasha!” I called, looking up to the tree branch, “Have you seen my…?” I trailed off, because I realised that he was not there. I spun around in a slow, baffled circle, realising the startling fact that nobody was there. “Kagome! Shippo! Sango!” I called their names one by one, my voice growing higher and higher pitched at the chilling silence.

 

Where is everybody?

 

They couldn't have left me behind, could they? No, of course not. They wouldn't even think of doing that. That meant there was only one other possibility, thinking of which my heart thudded painfully against my ribs. Did they fall into some kind of danger? Hell, do I have amnesia or something?

 

I clenched my hands into fists, falling into a slow breathing cycle to calm myself. When I felt sombre enough to think straight, I went systematically through the possibilities. They might have gone for a walk, but they would never go without informing me, and besides, at least one of us has to stay back. The same went for baths. And there were no visible signs of any sort of battles, and I couldn't sense any demons nearby. How much ever I thought, it only boiled down to one thing: they had left; left without me.

 

A sickening, white-hot feeling of anger, betrayal, and sorrow flooded my chest. How could they do this…?

 

Suddenly, at that moment, I caught a metallic glint a little ahead of me. Aha! Was it some clue to what had happened? As I approached it, though, it became clear it wasn't. It was my staff, which was halfway embedded in the ground. How did it get that way? I wondered vaguely, plucking it out of the ground. As my fingers closed over the cold, reassuring steel, my pride came back in full force. So what if Inu Yasha and the others had left me behind? I could, had and will survive and succeed without them. My meeting with them was just like the experiences many princesses had had with me: pleasurable, knowledgeable, but temporary; a bitter ending wrought with heart-sickness, betrayal, and sorrow; a lesson learnt about life's cruel ways, a lesson that will no doubt take you far in life.

 

As I tightened my grip on the staff and turned to commence my journey to the nearest village, a picture flashed in my mind: of a delicate oval face, framed by silky black hair, magenta eyes that were always full of determination, beautiful yet calloused hands, bruised by wielding the Hiraikatsu… I gritted my teeth, forcing the image of Sango out of my mind. I mustn't let memories deter my journey- my quest to kill Naraku, extract revenge.

 

As I continued walking, I felt a great evil presence suddenly close in around everything, mists of darkness swirled around, effectively spoiling the aura of peacefulness and natural beauty, choking all life- wait, there had been no life to start with! I realised with shock that Kagome and group hadn't been the only ones to disappear: all human life had disappeared with them. The darkness thickened, cutting off the golden sunshine, forming a mist so chill, so deep, that for a moment I thought that I was in the black hole. I cast a glance at my hand- the curse was still there- I could feel it throbbing ever so slightly- secured by the sacred beads. I lifted my terrified eyes back toward the darkening heavens, my breath coming in ragged gasps.

 

Am I in hell…?!!!