InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Anomie ❯ Chapter 1

[ P - Pre-Teen ]

Title: Anomie
Author: Chaos-and-Serenity
Summary: Wading within the depths of normlessness, Kikyou learns that sometimes the things that kill us are what truly keep us alive.
A/N: Written for the Summer Fiction Challenge on Media Miner.

Anomie

x x x

“One cannot long remain so absorbed in contemplation of emptiness without being increasingly attracted to it. In vain one bestows on it the name of infinity; this does not change its nature. When one feels such pleasure in non-existence, one's inclination can be completely satisfied only by completely ceasing to exist.”

—Emile Durkheim

x x x


A solitary woman stood on the shore as she watched the tide rolling upon the sand with disinterested eyes. The water was smooth as the sand was rough, the two converging like star-crossed lovers in one of nature’s timeless rituals.

Desire… It was a concept she was unable to forget, but too far gone to conjure.

She closed her eyes as she succumbed to the salty breeze, allowing it to embrace her with warm arms as she envisioned a time long ago when she stumbled over a rotting plank despite the hand encircling hers. He had wanted to protect her, to alleviate her troubles and soften the sharp of edge of duty so that her one true desire could be realized.

She had wanted to be a normal woman leading a normal life full of blessed monotony. He was going to sacrifice his own wish for the sake of hers and knowing him as she did, she knew that was indicative of the depth of his love for her.

So as she fell into his arms, the river humming in harmony with the dying day, she kissed him, knowing this natural serenade of lovers was more profound than the actuality of saying the words. That was the day she learned of a greater desire—the feelings of want invoked by a man.

She had wanted him as he had wanted her and the days had never felt warmer, much like the soft wind caressing her now.

She opened her eyes as she unclenched her fist, a slender purple shard winking at her as the dimming rays of sunlight slid past its glossy surface. It felt like cool lacquer against her skin, though she had held it in her palm since long before the orange hue of dusk had befallen the horizon. Yet, it belied no such thing.

She was cold, the blood running through her veins nothing more than illusory liquid, flowing onward from betrayal and viscous with thickened irony. He had betrayed her, but he hadn’t—her newfound life a sore irony as she masqueraded about as a priestess. She was a healer with no one to heal and a holy maiden with no shrine to keep.

In reality, she was nothing.

Her eyes fluttered down to the hard granules of sand below her sandal-clad feet. She had been to the coast once when she was young; her mother had brought her. She recalled the heated sand between her toes as she ran along the beach, the water a cool reprieve. She wondered in vain if the sand still felt the same. She knew it would, if only she could feel it…

She then noticed an object peaking through the grainy earth and before she even reached down to uncover it she knew what it was—a seashell. She picked it up and ran her fingers over its smooth surface, her eyes exploring every contour of the pale, luminous specimen. The bottom had been corroded harshly, a sharp contrast to its oily surface, reminding her of days when thick calluses adorned her fingers undeniably marking her trade. Her new body was flawless, which was something she had once wanted, but now knew conveyed her lack of humanity, further separating her from everything she once knew.

The girl, Kagome, was flawed—her legs too long and her hips too wide, but Inuyasha didn’t see them that way, but rather as idiosyncrasies belonging solely to Kagome, making her a unique beauty.

She wished for her calluses to reappear so that they may remind her of a diligence and patience born from responsibility that once served as a centerpiece for a life. A life that was long lost, though never truly forgotten, even if only because she had pinned a hanyou to a tree to awaken fifty years later as though he had never slept.

She placed the seashell against her ear, the echo of oceanic serenity resounding through her.

She was like this shell—lovely, but empty—an echo from the past, temporally kept and preserved within a clay shell, a mere remnant of the life she once harbored. She had no substance, no soul, and soon enough her body would erode as the sea of time relentlessly beat against her, forcibly taking from her the slip of her remaining existence through an old well and five-hundred years into the future.

She clutched the shell within her hand, the sea-worn bottom sharp as it pressed into her skin, and she walked into the water, bow strapped to her back and sandals still secured around her feet. The sea felt cool, but so did everything else…

When Urasue had revived her it felt like she had never really died, like her bleeding wound was simply a part of an uncannily realistic dreamscape. She had died thinking she was betrayed and when she awoke, it was like it had just happened yesterday. She remembered feeling unparalleled fury when she first saw him, alive and healthy, his beautiful eyes staring at her as his chest heaved with every breath.

He was supposed to be dead.

Like a moth coveting the flame of a candle, anger drew her in, not knowing what else to think or feel. She wanted to kill him, she was going to kill him, but then the girl ripped her soul away as though it were her own. That was when she learned of a physical agony bred from a rage greater than any other—one that a simple moth could not fathom, even when the flame was extinguished.

Her rage transcended mere emotionality and filled the gaps of her remaining soul as she fled, but eventually the wick ran its inevitable course.

Her anger was a remnant of a woman past, no longer there to refuel it.

The water was at her hip when she stopped to trace the fleeting ripples of water, tinged with gold as the sun descended over the coast, closing the book on another day. Though repetitive, even the golden kiss of dusk was short lived amongst the vast ocean.

Once, she had wanted to be ordinary.

Once, she had wanted Inuyasha to become human.

Once, she had wanted to kill him.

The resentment of duty, the burn of yearning and the sting of betrayal had made her wish…wish for things that life had ultimately denied her. Had heated blood still ran through her veins and had suffering not left its hideous scar, then perhaps she would still want these things and be enraged over her continuous and unjust denial.

But she wasn’t…

She really didn’t care anymore.

To care about it would imply feelings and those she did not have, the remnants long since departed as days passed and memories faded, the significance of things dulled and lost within a span of time.

She remembered enjoying the feel of sand and water against her skin, just as she remembered savoring Inuyasha’s lips and pining for his touch. Being without the simple pleasure of sentimentality had made these things rather moot and as time moved on she became increasingly isolated, no longer caring about much of anything the further detached she became from the world—from what differentiated the light of humanity from the dark of nothingness.

She was a mockery of existence, tragedy and betrayal blurring within the confines of purposelessness, until she couldn’t tell the difference between sorrow and rage. Everything was dulled, like a voice muffled through water, and she no longer knew what bound her to this world, for the desire to remain no longer compelled her motives and defined her intentions.

Though she could no longer see beauty in the world, she did not wish for it. Though she could not connect with others or clarify her relations, she did not long for it. Though she could not initiate emotions or bypass her apathy, she did not want for it.

She honestly didn’t care anymore. Whether it was too exhausting to care or simply impossible, she didn’t know, nor did it matter, for the only thing she ever felt these days was the slight inclination to cease existing. So slight was the desire to end the charade that was her existence, that she couldn’t even muster the energy to end it anyhow.

It was a perplexing thought, but nonetheless lacking in ambition.

She commenced walking out to sea, wondering when it was exactly that everything had lost its meaning. It was a process she presumed, one that could not be evaded, for the dead lose sight of life and the undead forget its meaning. She was surrounded by life and yet its purpose became obscure as she meandered about unsure of her place between the realms of life and death.

She had searched for it while she sought her revenge and realized that there never was and never would be a place for her in this plane of existence. She defied time with her very presence and the course of nature would only permit this of her for so long. Perhaps the gods were simply allowing her to collect her debts so that one day she may find a semblance of peace.

It wasn’t an encouraging thought, but then again, nothing was…

The water settled at her shoulders, small waves rolling gently onto her neck as she wondered what she should do now.

Should she take Inuyasha to hell with her as he had promised? That plan wasn’t so alluring anymore. Even killing Naraku didn’t hold that sparkle it once had. Should she mourn this loss of intimacy with the world? She was too lost within isolation to weep over anything at all.

It would be so easy to do it—to continue walking out to sea and becoming one with the ocean, its dismal waters deep with promise and dark with emptiness. She would no longer have to wonder where she belonged or ponder her listlessness. She would find her freedom there, the frayed thread of her existence broken, releasing her tedium and leaving behind all memories of a humanity she could no longer grasp. It would be so peaceful…

She registered the familiar sensation of a puncture though she could not recognize any pain. She lifted her hand from the water, diluted blood running in a thin line down her wrist. She released her fist knowing full well what was awaiting her dispassionate eyes.

It was but a single shard and she briefly wondered if Inuyahsa would find it here, a short distance out to sea. The thought was fleeting as she recalled a time in life when her duty to the Shikon no Tama encompassed her existence and wrought terror within her dreams. Her duty was what she lived for and yet it could kill her within a moment’s notice.

Once, she had wanted nothing more than to be alleviated of duty even in the face of purposelessness, for duty was all she had known. But Inuyasha had changed all that, bringing meaning to life with tight embraces and chaste kisses. She could wish away her obligations and still have something to live for, her purpose centering on a man instead of a sacred jewel with insurmountable powers.

She stared out at the endless horizon, its infinite nothingness beckoning her to step forward. She paused, indecision delaying the inevitable.

Duty… She fought against it, even plotted a way to sidestep it, but it never faltered. It eventually changed when she died, her resurrected body then obliged to finish what she had started fifty years prior, only to alter its form once more compelling her to eradicate Naraku.

Even in death she could not escape duty.

She was aware of the fact that even now it could take her life away, no matter how superficial a life it was.

It was almost funny how that thought used to terrify her.

Too bad she just didn’t care more.

She turned around and headed back to shore, her eyes turning toward the darkening sky as she faintly acknowledged the dying day that could never truly stay dead. The world would not allow such justice.

She stepped onto the wet sand, her feet moving fluidly despite her waterlogged shoes. She noticed that seashell lying haphazardly on the ground as she continued walking, all the while wondering when her central desire in life had taken such a drastic turn. Though she knew her nature was currently too apathetic to really care or dwell on wishes, she reasoned that if she were to really want something right now, really desire it, it wouldn’t be revenge or love or life…

She would wish to cease existing.

The more she mused over it, the more alluring it became.

As attractive a wish as it was, it still didn’t change the fact that she had a duty to fulfill before rest could welcome her, its arms cold yet tight, but beautifully dark and unfeeling.
She could wait patiently, for nothing truly excited her, but she would await longingly for her upcoming reunion with death. This time, however, she would be more prepared. After all, emptiness and nothingness accompany each other in perfect harmony—she would have a place then within the beautiful chords of death.

That was what she wished for…

Gripping the shard within her hand, Kikyou headed back the way from whence she came, the setting sun bidding her farewell with its final breath. But it would return tomorrow and the day after that, forever reminding those cursed with immortality that death was temporary and life never-ending, though solace could be found when consciousness finally ran its course.

x x x


End Note: the title is the concept anomie, which is loosely defined as isolation to the point of normlessness. The term was coined by French sociologist, Emile Durkheim.