InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Blood & Trust ❯ Recollections ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha people so don't sue . . . if u do that . . . it'll pretty much be a waste of your time.

Summary: Growing up life is hard for Kagome but when she dies her life truly begins. Now a trained cold blooded assassin, will Kagome ever come to know goodness or love? Rated R for this chapter and some language. S/K

A/N: OK people listen! This chapter is kinda dark but it aint ga keep dat way. (Sorry people who adore angst . . . sorta like me) dis is like a romance action and some drama. But . . . for those who read or are reading Cursed Hearts - my other fic - if u don't like a tad bit of darkness I suggest u stop now cuz it's gonna get like dat. Well dis new fic has been spinnin in my head for a while. Anyway. Hope yall enjoy . . .

Blood and Trust

Prologue: Recollections

I sit here fearless of the challenges before me and suspicious of the people around me. Loneliness is all I know ever since I successfully encased myself in this shell of ice and indifference. I watch the world through glazed eyes, ever alert and ever weary of all that I see. Hate swallows me. Love eludes me and the proclaimed "good nature" of people spits at my very existence since . . . I know better. I live in a world where honor is overrated, beauty is worshiped, while selfishness and materialistic behavior are classics that can never be outdone. I live in a world where not only does every life have a price, but every existence can be terminated for a Rolex watch, a personal feud or some idiotic government conspiracy.

"Let's save the world from a country that won't do things our way!" they say.

"Let's put this country on the blacklist for following their laws!" they say.

"Let's raise taxes to build weapons and make people think it's for pension!" they calculate.

"Let's slowly take over the world." they whisper.

"And let's get an army of young patriotic fools to help us do it!" they laugh.

What's the matter? Do I sound bitter? Has my words shocked you? Perhaps I'm one of those selfish bastards also. I truly can care les of how this affects you. It's simply my opinion. Oh please! Don't look so stunned. I know you thought it at one point. Maybe you just understand politics enough to be afraid.

"A warfare is based on the art of deception." I remember reading that somewhere. I now realize how true it is. Who am I you ask? I am a product of life and government conspiracies. I am a product of the suburbs of Japan. I know of private schools and quiet streets. Hell, I know enough to know that inside the nice houses of those quiet streets are not as serene as they seem. I was the eldest of two siblings and we lived with both of our parents. So what are you thinking? Divorce problems? Infidelity? I wish.

My mother was a beautiful woman. She had a pleasant smile and pleasant eyes . . . they were not pretense. Our entire neighborhood loved her and her sweet personality. She was always invited to little get-togethers and always was selected to plan community events. She was wonderful . . . that is . . . until she came home. At home her skills were never good enough. At home my father never liked her cooking, no matter how much he loved it when she prepared meals for community events. At home, the house was never clean enough, no matter how proud he said he was to his friends. At home, mother was never worth father's affections, no matter how much he held her in public. Mother was simply never good enough. As a result, my father somehow concluded he had to teach her to be perfect. So, like a little child she was taught. Therefore, like a little child . . . she was punished. My mother was punished often . . . sometimes for no reason at all. Mama always kept smiling. So, that night when the blood came gushing out her shoulder, I was afraid. I was five then and Souta, my brother, was one. I was young but it wasn't the blood that scared me, I was use to it. Instead . . . it was the absence of mama's smile. Daddy died that night. Turns out when mama went to carve the ham daddy decided her punishment wasn't done . . . "Daddy fell on the knife sweetheart so, he may not wake up for a while." Those were her words to me.

Life after that was livable for a while. We had to go and live with grandpa at the shrine. I always thought he was a funny old man . . . I just never knew better. Souta was six then so he and gramps spent a lot of time together. I could never understand why my brother was never happy. I just thought he was spoiled. He had all the attention since mama had to work yet he still moped around . . . I hated him for it. One day I hated myself for ever hating him . . . one day, I understood. Mama had come home early that day so we decided to surprise grampa and Souta . . . we were the ones surprised. There, in the well house, sat grampa with Souta's little head bobbing up and down between his legs. We were outraged. Grampa was shocked and Souta was crying. There was a short scuffle then mama and I were thrown in the well. Grampa, now looking like the madman he really was, crouched Souta halfway over the mouth of the well and began to `ram' against him. Mama and I stood there petrified looking up at Souta as he looked down . . . as he screamed out . . . as his tears fell . . . as his cheeks turned red . . . purple . . . blue. Gramp's hold restricted breathing. When grandpa was done, he threw Souta's limp body down the well with us and left. Mama screamed for hours before anyone found us.

Life was just me and mama after that. She hadn't smiled in years and it weighed on the both of us. I was fifteen then. I didn't know what mama did for work anymore. We weren't living in the shrine by the way, mama had burnt it to ashes. Now, we were in a cramped and rundown apartment. I worked in a convenient store after school so I didn't see much of home. I didn't see much of mama either. It was always like I was living alone. I never mind though, since I figured mama was working a night job all this time. One night a loud crash woke me. I was uneasy about it since our neighborhood was more rundown than our apartment so I grabbed my bat and went to investigate. It was my mother and she apparently brought some friends home. They were all drunk. Mama was smiling then but, it wasn't the same. I began to see more of mama and her friends. I remember beating up myself for being selfish since I wasn't happy mama was smiling again . . . but as always, I simply didn't know better. I remember coming home sick from work that day. If I had known what I would meet I would have gladly stayed to stock the shelves. There, in our living room/dining room/kitchen was my mother and her friends having sex. It didn't bother me much that her friends were all women, in this day age and area you see it often enough. What really pissed me off was the disgraceful presence of marijuana, cocaine and heroine. So, there was my mother with a woman sucking her tits and a needle hanging out her arm . . . I killed all five of them . . . what else was I to do? I was too young to go to jail but it didn't matter. The lawyer given to me by the government freed me on claims of temporary insanity . . . yeah right . . . I did it once and I'd do it again.

In the `special' orphanage was another story. The whole place was wrapped around the finger of this bitch called Kikyo. She hated me . . . I hated her back. I spent the next three years kicking her ass in a physiological and mental war we created. It kept my mind off things. Then there was Inuyasha. He was older. He was the only one that was really nice to me. We got along well enough so I liked him . . . I trusted him . . . then I loved him. I let him tough me . . . I let him kiss me . . . I remember kissing him in less obvious places . . . he was my first. The next day, he was with Kikyo. The entire orphanage laughed as they listened to me moan over the tape recorder. They laughed even harder as Inuyasha imitate me. They threw things at me, called me names, spat at me, but my eyes were locked on him. Kikyo noticed this, so she kissed him. She kissed him hard and long.

"I hope you had fun love." she said.

"You know it." he replied.

I believe that was the first time I cried. I stayed in my room for the rest of the day . . . that night, every kid in the orphanage of twenty four died. I still remembered how Kikyo looked when I cut off her fingers joint by joint. Hell, I remembered how everyone else looked as the watched. After dicing her fingers and toes, slicing her breast and carving her thighs I decided to leave her eyes in so she could watch Inuyasha's turn and beat her about instead.

Inuyasha . . . I still loved him . . . I couldn't do much to him . . . so I decided to simply cut off his balls, stuff it in his mouth and jam Kikyo's severed organs into his wound. After that, I kissed him softly on his forehead and turned to my audience who was frozen with fear . . . I liked them like that, so quiet and funny looking . . . I actually laughed for the first time since father died. Then, I simply emptied ten gallons of gasoline and lit it. The orphanage went up in smoke with me still inside listening to their screams and watching `him' burn to death. The firemen came soon enough to save me but that's about it. I wasn't burned at all `miraculously' but I did have a slash across my back from a falling wood. I was detained and questioned in vain. I think I actually frightened the authorities . . . I thought that was funny. I remember just sitting there, staring emotionlessly. I was ready to kill, ready to die, ready to be stripped of freedom forever, but the unexpected happened. That night, I was attacked in my cell. The officers thought I had died and so did I. Truth is, I was actually injected with a powerful sedative. I know this because the people who I met hovering over me when I woke told me so.

They say living is hard . . . well my life begins here. So . . . who am I? I am a Higurashi Kagome.

*************************************************************** ***There's the prologue. I hope yall enjoy it. Please read and review. I need to know if I should continue. Thanks for reading this far.