InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Delving Into The Mysteries Of The Past ❯ The Present Chapter ( Chapter 14 )

 

Still slightly perplexed about my exchange with Kikyo and Yami, I searched Mitsu out of the throng of grieving relatives and took my place in the endless sea of black. We blended right in, Mitsu sitting stiffly next to me in his starched shirt, Sami-chan trying to copy his father exactly, Ana-chan fiddling with the hem of her dress, and Horeshio, tugging irritably on his tie. I grabbed his fidgeting hands in my own, holding them for a moment until he yanked them back with the whispered proclamation, “I'm not a baby anymore!” I found myself smiling, even though everyone else in the room had settled into somber silence, and a line was already forming at Great-Aunt Kaede's casket.

 

In actuality, I've always hated wakes. I don't why, but just the idea of viewing a person's body makes me queasy. I once asked Dr. Iwata about it, and he described it as some sort of pathological fear brought on by a frightening experience as a child. He said that it was probably because my father died when I was so young, and because he died traumatically, it left scars in my subconscious. When I told him I had no problem watching horror movies, he replied that movies and real life are different, and as such, a body on a movie screen wouldn't affect me like a body would if I just happened to stumble upon it on the street. I argued that a body on the street would affect anybody rather badly, no matter what sort of pathological fear they had. Then he brought up the case about Himata Sango.

 

Himata Sango, or Sango-chan as we called her, was a family acquaintance, never failing to visit us on any holiday, or on any day she felt like coming over. She seemed to know me very well, though my first recollection of her was when I woke up in a hospital bed and saw her sitting in a chair next to me, eyes red from crying. It was an awkward meeting, she flinging herself onto my arm, breaking out into a fresh bout of tears, saying how glad she was that I was alive, and I, shocked into silence, trying in vain to remember who she was. In time, Kikyo walked in, and, grabbing the distraught girl by the arm, dragged her out into the hallway, hissing something under her breath. Sango gave her a blank look, and Kikyo whispered something in her ear. Sango's eyes widened, and amidst another torrent of tears, yelled, “I've already lost two people I care for, I'm not going to lose her as well!”

 

“Keep your voice down!” Kikyo snapped, her hands tightening around Sango's wrist. “Believe me, I don't like this either, more so than you, but it's easier on Kagome this way. If she finds out what happened…the doctors say we could lose her.” Kikyo's eyes were a stormy blue, her inner turmoil unreadable in her calm countenance, except for her eyes. “You may think I don't care, but I take no pleasure in watching my sister slowly wither away because she's too fragile to handle the truth.” Even to this day, I still don't understand what she meant when she uttered that.

 

But Sango was the only visitor besides my family I had during my stay at the hospital. And she was a fiercely loyal friend, always there when I needed a helping hand, or when I needed a shoulder to cry on. She was the one who found me an apartment to live in once Horeshio was born and Mom made it clear I was on my own, and she pulled a few strings as her job to allow me to work with her as well. We were more like sisters than friends, but even still, we had our secrets, mine buried deep where I could not remember, and hers to painful to mention. It showed, premature lines snaking down her pretty face, making her look older than only one year my senior.

 

She never liked Mitsu though. Every time they were in the same room together, sparks would fly, and tension would be thick in the air. Neither one provoked the other, but Sango seemed to have some sort of grudge against him, and Mitsu just plain didn't like her. They never talked to one another; instead they sat at opposite ends of the table, and glared at each other in stony silence. It made me uncomfortable, and I'm sure it annoyed Great-Aunt Kaede to death because she would always look disapprovingly at each one in turn.

 

Our friendship ended in the middle of summer, when my family and I planned a vacation to celebrate Sami-chan's arrival. We invited her to come along with us, and we all had a good time, until it neared the end of our stay. We were lounging around, watching the ocean and commenting how pretty it looked in the moonlight, when loud bangs and crashes sounded from behind the beach house. Sango automatically reached for her giant boomerang that she always carried with her. It was a habit, developed during the Demonic Revolutions as she said, and whenever she felt nervous or on edge, she would reach for the weapon. We told her it was probably a raccoon or something going through the garbage cans, but she wouldn't listen to us, saying that she felt the presence of a demon. I'll never forget that look she had on her face, as if something from her past had come back to haunt her, how the lines marring her complexion deepened, and her mouth tightened into a grim line. She looked like a warrior, facing a foe she knew she would never defeat; yet she would die trying anyway. She left, and we stayed indoors under her orders.

 

Thirty minutes went by, and she still hadn't returned. I was worried, but Mitsu said she was probably doing a sweep of the entire area just to be safe. Forty minutes…nothing. Finally, after over an hour, when she still didn't come back, we searched for her, walking the tide line down to a secluded part of the beach, where we finally found her.

 

The smell hit me first. Excretions mixed with blood blew into my face, settling in my clothes, weaving into my hair, sinking in through my pores. Then the sight of the horrible carnage that stood before me seared itself into my memory before I lapsed into a comatose state.

 

She had been strangled, left to die hanging from a branch by her own intestines, blood dripping steadily off her feet and onto the ground, saturating the sand beneath her. Lifeless eyes gazed out at nothing while a thin trickle of crimson escaped her mouth, open in a silent scream, and the hole in her abdomen gaped, entrails spilling out, yawning wider and wider, consuming me…

 

I woke up ten days later.

 

“Kagome!” I jumped, startled out of my trance, to see Mitsu pulling on my arm.

 

“Come one, we're the last ones,” he said. “I know you don't like this kind of thing…”

 

“Oh, you have no idea,” I muttered in gruesome humor.

 

“But you've got to get through this for your family,” he finished, guiding me to the casket. “I'm right here, there's nothing to be afraid of.” I wanted to tell him that there was a lot to be afraid of, but instead, I steeled myself, and gave poor Great-Aunt Kaede I quick look, said a quiet prayer, and then bolted the hell out of there…

 

…Right into a very large bosom.

 

“Oh Kagome-chan! This must be so hard for you!” The muffled sound of a woman's voice reached my ears, followed by the crushing weight of her arms. “Poor old dear, she had such a hard life.”

 

“I'm going to die here,” I thought. “Crushed at twenty-five by an overweight woman giving me a bear hug.” When I expended my oxygen supply, and I swore I saw blackness creeping up on me through the corner of my eyes, the woman released me, and I was able to breathe again, though the smell of baby powder and cheap perfume still hovered around me.

 

“Kagome-chan, don't you recognize me?” I was pretty sure I had never seen this woman in my life, but for the benefit of doubt, I cautiously shook my head. She pouted. “Well, I remember you! I can't believe you would forget you dear old Auntie Shinju.”

 

Auntie?

 

She continued, even though I'm sure she realized I thought she was crazy.

 

“I've got something for you, if I remember where I put the darned thing.” She rummaged around her oversized bag, tsking occasionally, sometimes pausing to shake the bag. “Well, I guess I must've left it in the car. Oh well, I guess you'll just have to come with me to get it.”

 

That sounded deliberate, but before I had the chance to question her, she took hold of my wrist with a surprisingly fast hold, and literally dragged me out into the parking lot.

 

“What is going on!?” I asked out of exasperation, massaging some feeling back into my numb wrist.

 

“Just be patient now, your Great-Aunt Kaede kept this a long time for you, and she said to give it to you when she died,” Shinju answered, her bottom waving in the air like a demented flag as she bent over in her trunk. “I know I've got it somewhere…Ah! Here it is!” She handed me something small and rectangular, wrapped in tissue paper.

 

“A book?” I asked skeptically, eyebrows up. Shinju winked.

 

“You'll understand when you open it. Just make sure there's no one around when you do.” I looked at her sharply, but when I tried to ask her, she cut me off. “Well now, look at the time! I must be going!” With that, she jumped in her car and peeled out of the parking lot, zooming down the street. I stood there, blinking.

 

“Strange…” I said, turning my package over in my hands. If that Shinju woman was telling the truth, and Great-Aunt Kaede did want me to have this, then why would she wait until she was dead for me to receive it? It made no sense. And why did I have to wait until there was no one around me to open it?

 

“Who was that?” I turned, package slipping into the waistband of my skirt.

 

“Some weird aunt,” I told my mother. “Said she had something for me, but turned out that she forgot it.” My mother shook her head.

 

“And you're alright?” I nodded. “You don't have to go back in there is you don't want to,” she told me, her eyes softening. “I know how much you hate wakes and the like. It may be best if you stayed in the car.”

 

“I thought you wanted to talk to me,” I asked in confusion. My mother's eyebrows knit together.

 

“No, there's nothing coming to mind at the moment.”

 

“But Kikyo said you wanted to discuss Dr. Iwata's death.”

 

“Really? Kikyo didn't mention that to me.” We were both confused, biting out lips thinking. “Are you sure it was Kikyo?”

 

“Positive Mom,” I answered. “And she sent someone off too.”

 

“Who?” There was hardness to her tone now.

 

“A woman named Yami.” I declined to mention she was a demon.

 

“Did she now…” My mother's voice had turned cold. “When was this?”

 

“Right before services started.” She blinked.

 

“You're sure?” she asked sharply. When I nodded, she said, “Kikyo just arrived a few minutes ago.” Now it was my turn to stare.

 

“She what?” I asked, suddenly apprehensive. About what, I knew not, but there was definitely something wrong here.

 

“Wait in the car,” she said, turning on her heel. “I want to see something.” She went back inside. I walked to the car and sat down, only to shoot back up again when my package poked me in the back. Out of irresistible curiosity, I opened it, and out fell a worn little book, soft to the touch, nearly ready to fall apart.

 

“What on earth is this?” I wondered, flipping it open. I page flew out, and I caught it, recognizing Great-Aunt Kaede's handwriting.

 

“Kagome, if you are reading this, it means that I have died. The heavy secrets of our family have worn me down, and I believe it is time to end them. But to do so, you must take a heavy burden on your shoulders, but I know you are strong enough to do this. You have asked me, time and time again, to tell you of your missing years. It is best, to let you tell yourself what happened. Delve into the mysteries of your past, but do so at discretion. There are enemies, closer then you think, and they will stop at nothing to end your search for answers. If you are ready to leave all that you know about yourself, your family, and you friends, begin reading the book.”

 

With shaking hands, I looked closely at the worn book in my lap, and read the cover.

 

“My Diary. Don't read it Kikyo.”

 

Oh…Kami save me.

 

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