InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Corrupted the Blind ❯ She doesn't know ( Chapter 1 )

Corrupted the Blind

 

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Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha.

 

17.05.2010: This chapter has been re-edited and title of story changed from 'Ancient Feelings'.

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December was mild and as empty as her feelings. Desolate was a way of saying you were surrounded by nobody, but she had tons of people tending to her every needs, and she still couldn't stop feeling lonely. First there was fear. The fear she was experiencing, the lazy emotion that crawled inside her chest, although preventing her from trembling, was fear of the unknown and it was for a reason.

 

Her life didn't feel hers anymore.

 

Another day was finally dying away like melting snowflakes and yet she still couldn't remember any more that had happened with her life for the last couple of years or so. Blank was how she could describe her memory in short words. Blank was what she could say about her life.

 

Kagome sighed wearily and looked through the window.

 

It hurt. People kept calling her Lady Kagome. She remembered nothing about being a Lady, but honestly, she didn't remember much to begin with. Just bits and pieces, mostly memories from her youth, happy days with her family. Her utmost wish was to find out who and where her husband was. Kagome, she had been told she had married a fine man, a handsome man, but nobody knew his whereabouts.

 

A whimper escaped her throat and she couldn't prevent it, just like she couldn't prevent this cold weather she hated so much. The distressed woman gently tucked a few loose strands behind her ear and continued admiring the frozen view emotionlessly. She felt asphyxiated in her bedroom on the second floor of a huge mansion that brought no comfort whatsoever.

 

It belonged to her, she'd been told. She had the right to stay here and live a charming life, regardless of her memories. Or lack thereof - they said. If her husband never returned, it was still her home. If she died, she'd die here.

 

Frowning in distress, Kagome watched the wild, mourning trees whine in the terrible forest. It was colder than she could remember, but then again, she wasn't that familiar with this particular part of England. After all, she only had memories of her life before her hypothetical marriage.

 

If these people had no idea about her husband, if they had no way of describing him - she suspected they didn't want to for some reason - then was there any rational way to convince her that she wasn't being lied to? She trusted them, they seemed so truthful, although confused, really, deeply confused - just like she was. Sometimes she could just look into their eyes and see the reflection of herself.

 

You've really done it this time, Kagome…

 

What if it had been her fault? This… loss of memory.

 

She couldn't remember. Did it matter anymore?

 

But what if she had children, too? These people, her servants, the ones that tended to her every wish, they didn't seem to know much about her or remember much, either, but it would be natural that the kids would be with her, right? She hoped so, she hoped there were no kids whose lives she'd missed entirely. The only strong conviction the servants had was that she was their Lady and they were supposed to follow her orders and keep her there until their Master returned home safely. But they didn't seem to know who he was…

 

Heavens… how was it even possible? It certainly seemed so complicated; Kagome's head hurt just by the thoughts swimming aimlessly inside. Truthfully, she had no idea just how much exactly she'd skipped of her life.

 

Lady Kagome.

 

It sounded unreal. That couldn't be her. Being a Lady meant she had married a Lord. And it really made her want to twist her heart inside her chest for not knowing whom she'd fallen in love with - had she loved him, her husband? What kind of person had she become in that period? Had she married for money? The servants seemed kind to her, almost like they expected the same from her. They didn't really know much about her, either, although they said they'd served their house for years and years… It seemed strange but Kagome was in no position to judge anything, anymore. She simply had no recollection of anything recent.

 

It wasn't until the servant entered the room that Kagome realized that the distant, nagging sounds she'd been hearing as if in a dream were actually knocks. How silly; she had forgotten all about dinner. There was a certain hour she was brought dinner every night - Kagome wondered if she'd been okay with this before, because now it was only irritating and uncomfortable.

 

The servant said something before bowing slightly and scurrying out of the room, and Kagome released a resigned sigh. She was used to the solitude by now and she even ignored everything she deemed significant.

 

Her mother, her younger brother, and her grandfather... would she ever see them again? As far as she'd gathered from the servants, she was to stay here until the Master came back - honestly, the man could never return. What if he had been killed? Kagome couldn't find it in her to care; had there ever been a time when she would have cared?

 

With glossy eyes and numb fingers, she stood and straightened up before leaving the bedroom.

 

The dinner was quiet and lonesome as always, and every time she asked anything, she would be answered, “Of course, Lady Kagome” or “As you wish, Lady Kagome” and she'd immediately get whatever she wanted. She wasn't squeamish, but she missed contact, warmth. In the middle of December, Kagome wanted some understanding. She wanted to talk to somebody. Instead, she chewed slowly and swallowed her food wearily.

 

Chilly mornings would catch her rummaging through all her drawers, looking for something that might remind her of the past. It was as if someone had wiped her memory and every item that could become a hint with a rough sponge.

 

Then she'd read something just to make sure she didn't forget how to do it. What were her favorite books now? These books that lay on the night table seemed the type of books she'd normally read, so why not take a look? Afterwards, she'd always take a walk in the huge garden she was told she had designed herself, before having dinner.

 

Her husband had loved her very much, the servants assured her. Proof lay in how much liberty he gave her in decorating their house, in choosing his clothes, in choosing her own clothes, they said - how many men did that? Truthfully, she didn't know. But she nodded her agreement nonetheless.

 

Her first visit brought blazing hope to her chest. She hadn't thought about this, her mind had been occupied by her husband and his absence, but yes, maybe she had friends, too. Perhaps there was someone who knew him and where he was. With all her heart, she hoped it was that.

 

“Is it my husband?” she asked with childish-like hope.

 

“No, my Lady; it is Lady Tsubaki. She is a Japanese woman that married one of the Lords here and now widow. You were quite close before, as far as I recall,” Sango, the maid, explained, as if trying to remember herself. This whole buffoonery seemed a joke and Kagome wondered for a moment if she wasn't part of a play meant to make fun of her. It couldn't be that the servants couldn't remember much either, could it? What sort of sick thing was that?

 

The Lady sighed and thanked Sango, but the girl politely refused to leave, saying she'd help Kagome get ready to meet Lady Tsubaki while occasionally telling her about the visitor from bits and pieces of memory.

 

Descending down the stairs, she saw a gorgeous woman looking up at her expectantly and seemingly longingly. She didn't know why, but warmth spread through her body until it reached her toes and she was probably even blushing. Something told her she should trust this woman. Lady Tsubaki had waist-long, black hair and a beautiful, intricate, dark blue dress that suited her perfectly. It was a mixture between a Japanese kimono and a most elegant dress, and Kagome wondered what tailor could have mastered such a beauty.

 

“Kagome,” the woman greeted pleasantly, smiling friendly. “Long time, no see, indeed.”

 

“Hello, Lady Tsubaki,” Kagome said with an equally pleasant voice.

 

The woman came to greet her as soon as Kagome had finished descending the stairs. “Oh, please,” Tsubaki said, reaching a hand for Kagome to grab, which she did - then continued, “Don't be so formal. Call me Tsubaki. You used to do that, I assure you.”

 

“Did they tell you?” Kagome asked her, trying to be as familiar as she could with this strange person. It was obvious she was aware of her condition.

 

“Yes, your servants told me all about it. I have been in Paris for the last year, but when I came back and you did not visit, I started asking myself if something happened to you.” There was a long pause that weighed heavily on Kagome's chest, as if she was expecting to be sentenced to death, but she had no idea why such a feeling enveloped her so unexpectedly. “I am sorry... so, so sorry. You should remember me, us, your life,” and she sounded so sincere, too, “but I shall help you, I promise.”

 

“At last someone who shall answer a few questions,” Kagome said, smiling slightly. “Please, do come with me in the garden, Tsubaki. It is beautiful this time of the year.” It was also forlorn.

 

“I know,” Tsubaki smiled and Kagome all but dragged her to her favorite place, a secluded bench surrounded by dozens of flowers and beautiful trees. It was - by far - the most beautiful place and she really did envision herself designing it.

 

“You have been here before, I presume,” Kagome said.

 

“Oh, no” was Tsubaki's answer. The woman kept looking around as if committing this place to memory. “You didn't let anyone come here, except your husband; it was your special place.” They'd had a special place? “You didn't even let the gardeners come. As far as I know, you did their job in this place, because you wanted it to be untouched. It is breathtaking, Kagome…” Her eyes shone strangely, as if a world of mystery lay inside them and Kagome wondered if it was the affect of the beauty of the garden. “Now I understand why you wanted it to be secret.”

 

“Oh,” Kagome mumbled quite meekly. She felt a bit regretful that she'd brought Tsubaki here now. Just how strict had the old Kagome been when forbidding the others to come here? Was this place such a big sentimental value for her to interdict any intrusions? The questions she'd longed to ask forced her throat to constrict and her hands to clench into fists, and she coughed nervously, fearful of a frank answer.

 

“Tsubaki… where is my husband? And who is he? What is his name?” The servants didn't seem to know or didn't want to tell her. There was a slightly dark sparkle that flashed inside Tsubaki's eyes.

 

“We shall be getting into that later, I promise,” Tsubaki said hurriedly. “But first, let me tell you a few things that have been happening the last four years.”

 

“Four years?” Kagome asked, quite surprised. So she'd skipped four years of her life?

 

“Yes, it was when we met. You had already been married for about three years, I think. I am not sure. It might be four or five. I do not remember us ever discussing this…” Tsubaki trailed off.

 

It was all overwhelming for Kagome, she nearly fainted. Precious memories of the last seven or nine years were lost. It couldn't be happening. It felt like half her life had been wasted. Walls closed in on her, even though they were outside, and she couldn't seem to catch her breath. Kagome felt sick.

 

“It-it can't be,” she whispered wretchedly, her eyes wide and fearful. Her life, what had become of it? When was her husband coming back? When was she going to start living again?

 

“You can't not remember anything, Kagome. Is there anything at all you can recall?”

 

True, it was as if her memory loss had been selective, and oh, how inopportune. “Only my life before this,” she replied, not really caring about that, they were ingrained in her memory. She wanted what was no longer there. “My mother, my brother, my grandfather.” She remembered them quite clearly, with small lapses, but it was only normal.

 

“Oh, yes. Your brother,” Tsubaki acknowledged with such a sad voice that Kagome's head snapped up at her.

 

“What about him?”

 

“He died. In a duel. He loved a woman and she had another suitor. They arranged a duel and your little brother lost. It was a painful year for you, that year.”

 

No, not Souta...

 

Kagome felt grudging tears springing forward and she tried her hardest to retain them. She'd suspected her grandfather would be dead, but not her brother… never her little, lively brother.

 

But he died for love…

 

“Souta was a dreamer,” Kagome remembered, oh, how little Souta surely pitied her now, from Heaven. “I am sure he is at peace.”

 

“I am sure he is, too. Tell me, Kagome. Do you remember Kikyou?”

 

“Oh, yes; Kikyou - I remember her. We are good friends.”

 

Tsubaki raised a slightly surprised eyebrow before smirking quite strangely. A corner of her mouth revealed white teeth that joined a sparkling grin. Paying it no mind, Kagome deemed it to be due to her memory.

 

“So you do remember Kikyou. That's… most interesting.”

 

“Why is that? I think I've met her before this, haven't I?”

 

“Not at all, dear,” Tsubaki said. “You've met her after we met,” Tsubaki explained patiently. “Two years and a half ago, if I'm not mistaken.”

 

Two years and a-

 

Kagome was dumbfounded. There was no explanation for it, was there? Kikyou was her friend, the only friend she knew, so why did she remember her and not her husband or anything or anyone else for that matter? Maybe if they continued talking, something would trigger a memory…

 

“Tell me about other people,” Kagome pleaded greedily, her eyes trying to take in Tsubaki's very soul. She wanted information, she wanted her life back. “Friends of mine,” she added.

 

“Hmm, there was Naraku. Do you remember him?” It didn't sound familiar. “You became great friends for the last three years. He's quite charming and a totally magnificent listener. You've always told him about your problems.”

 

“Yes,” a male voice echoed inside her head, as if he were moaning, “Right there,” as if he owned her. “I'll taint you,” he said, and the woman underneath could only nod unblinkingly.

 

“No, I do not remember,” Kagome said, shaking her head, unsure if she had just remembered something. Words were almost silent, images unclear, no, she couldn't interpret it. Anyhow, it surprised her that she had had a male friend. If meant this Naraku surely had many qualities.

 

“And Audrey. She is one of your favorite acquaintances. You've known her for at least six years, I think. She used to come by almost daily. A bit strange, but a wonderful person nevertheless.”

 

Again, it didn't ring a bell. “No, I don't remember her. What does she look like?”

 

“She has long, dark pulled in a bun, slightly curly, and the most beautiful eyes. They resemble red so strikingly that you wish you had more time to stare into them.”

 

Red eyes… Kagome shook her head. She didn't remember. She found she actually liked this Tsubaki person. The woman smiled a lot and didn't seem the impatient sort that couldn't wait to get Kagome to remember everything so they could be friends again. She really seemed eager to help.

 

“Oh, I nearly forgot!” Kagome exclaimed, but Tsubaki sat up quite abruptly, startling her friend.

 

“Forgive me Kagome, but I must leave now. You must come visit me sometime. I shall come to you as soon as I can. Goodbye now,” she said, briefly embracing the stunned woman who stood so she could say a proper goodbye. Watching Tsubaki's retreating form and her long dress falling in deep creases with each step, Kagome sat, quite stunned at what had transpired. She didn't want to be suspicious, but… something pinched her senses, attacking her from every corner possible. Something stingy, something restless, something that warned her. This invisible force, it threatened, but Kagome found she wasn't afraid. Almost as if she... trusted it.

 

While she desperately wanted to be able to wrap her mind around it, she simply could not deter herself from admiring the lovely, moonlit view of the snowy trees.