InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Every Day Is Halloween ❯ Came Back Haunted ( Chapter 2 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

 

Chapter two: Came Back Haunted

 

 

 

 

I hardly got any sleep that night, and for once it hadn’t had anything to do with the loud music being blasted, or the playful screams of drunk people being stupid. For once I hadn’t wanted to join them, either, ignoring the sounds of good times al around me as I stared up at the ceiling, contemplating. If Eri had also been wide awake I didn’t know it, since neither of us said anything else once we’d settled into our respective beds for the night. We’d spoken for a few minutes after initially changing into our pajamas, but after saying goodnight that was it, neither of us speaking again until morning.

 

Before going to bed Eri had promised to try and keep our adventure under wraps, at least until I could figure out what I was feeling in my heart that I needed to do for or about Kikyou. She was the one who’d been the believer from day one, and so now that I was telling her I felt connected to Kikyou in some way, almost drawn to help her, and that maybe it had all been meant to be and that she’d taken me to the graveyard that night in order for me to meet my destiny, she hadn’t hesitated to believe me and had immediately promised to stand by me, whatever happened.

 

I’d also told her about my previously suppressed childhood memory of seeing, and speaking with, my father’s ghost, and she’d immediately believed that story as well, even going so far as to tell me that maybe I was more sensitive to the spiritual plane than other people, that maybe her earlier joke of calling me a ‘ghost whisperer’ hadn’t been that far off, after all.

 

Admittedly, it would explain why my father had come to me back then, instead of appearing to my mother herself. What guy wouldn’t want to say farewell to his beloved wife in person if he could, right? So if he hadn’t been able to appear for his wife, if she hadn’t seen him or been aware of his presence, then maybe giving his six-year-old daughter a message for Mommy had become the only way, his only option.

 

It would also explain why, when Inuyasha had manifested himself, I’d seen him as a solid apparition while everyone else had only seen him as a humanoid mist. At first I’d thought that he’d actually gone out of his way to appear more ‘real’ to me than the others, but that hadn’t really made any sense. Why me? Was it only because I’d been the one talking to him, or had there been some other motivation?

 

But, on the other hand, if he’d only appeared how he’d appeared and that had been that, making no distinction between how any one of us saw him over the others, then he could have just appeared like ‘behold, here I am’ and it was Yuka, Eri and Ayumi’s own lack of ‘connection’ to that world that had prevented them from seeing him as clearly as I had.

 

Of course, my ability to see him clearly had still begged the question ‘Why me?’ but Eri had made a very good point during our talk when she’d told me to just accept my gift and not question it, because in all actuality, I couldn’t know the answer.

 

Running that conversation through my head over and over again as I’d lied awake that night, I wasn’t really sure if I even wanted to be special, but the more I’d thought about it, the more I’d realized that it explained why I’d felt so passionate about trying to help Kikyou all of a sudden; why I’d believed that if I didn’t try to help her, nobody else would. Maybe nobody else could help her. Or nobody else at our school, at least. Obviously, there were other mediums in the world, and I really hadn’t wanted to refer to myself with that word – or go into that line of work, for that matter – but if I actually had been born with a gift then I’d supposed it was my duty to use it, at least this once.

 

I had just hoped that other random ghosts wouldn’t start coming out of the woodwork looking for my aid, like on the actual show Ghost Whisperer. One ‘saving’ would be good enough for me, I’d thought. Actually, at the time I’d figured I’d get two savings out of the deal, since I’d assumed logically that Inuyasha’s ghost was stuck here because of Kikyou’s misery, and that once she’d found peace and moved on, he probably would as well. Knowing that I didn’t really have to focus on Inuyasha himself, then, as far as trying to help him directly went, I’d hoped that instead, he’d help me help Kikyou.

 

First things first, though. I had to get him to talk to me again. I had to make sure that it hadn’t just been Halloween night that’d given the two of them the extra oomph needed to materialize. According to the folklore on campus Kikyou made appearances all year long, but there were no such stories about Inuyasha and so I had to make sure he was also still with us and was just what would be the ghost equivalent to a wallflower.

 

Climbing out of bed on the morning of November 1st, I’d had my first course of action figured out. Step one: make contact.

 

Unfortunately, I’d had classes to get to that morning, as had Eri.

 

Meeting up with Yuka and Ayumi on our way to class, Eri had said that she’d start reviewing the audio from the voice recorder that afternoon after her last class, and told them to try and avoid spreading rumors of what all we’d experienced in the meantime. Nobody had really known we were going to the graveyard the night before, and so nobody was excitedly asking us the next morning how it’d went. Yuka and Ayumi both easily agreed to keep it to themselves, although they’d also expressed their desire in wanting to listen to whatever EVPs Eri might find, and they also wanted to look at the video I’d recorded, as did I to be perfectly honest, and so we’d all agreed to keep working on our little ‘investigation’ in private, reviewing the evidence we’d collected in private as well while at the same time giving me the time I needed to try and keep working with Kikyou’s spirit.

 

I’d hoped that maybe she’d just been extra pissed off the night before, what with it having been the anniversary of her death and all, and that maybe if I gave her a couple of days to cool off we could then start over fresh, letting bygones be bygones. I’d had a few ideas of how I could go about trying to reestablish contact with her, but in that precise moment I’d needed to focus on my English lecture, and so putting thoughts of ghosts out of my head, at least temporarily, I’d headed to class.

 

It only took me maybe five minutes to realize that somebody had followed me there.

 

The first time my pen rolled off my desk and onto the floor I’d honestly thought I had just bumped my desk on accident. Hey, it happens. I’d picked my pen back up mostly on autopilot and continued listening to the professor. Only a couple of minutes later, though, I happened to glance down at my desk in time to see my pen start rolling again, and that time I knew I hadn’t bumped it. My desk wasn’t slanted, either, but the pen had started rolling as if it were. Reaching my hand out, I’d caught the pen that time so that nobody else around me thought I was a total klutz for dropping it twice within as many minutes.

 

It only took me a few seconds to realize that maybe I hadn’t just happened to look down right at the right moment, but that instead, maybe whomever had moved my pen had actually been waiting until I looked down, to make sure I’d notice. Notice that my pen had very obviously been moved by some outside force.

 

Nonchalantly writing the word ‘again’ at the top of my notes, I’d then sat the pen down very carefully, in the middle of my desk, my focus on the professor limited at that point to only making sure he didn’t call my name without me noticing. That would’ve been embarrassing. So trying to pretend I was still giving his lecture even half of my attention, I delicately released the sides of my pen, as if I were setting up dominoes, and then I waited.

 

Only a few short seconds later my pen started rolling again, and that time, it rolled almost all of the way to the right side of the desk, to the point where I was prepared to catch it again, but then it suddenly stopped on its own and then rolled back, coming to rest in the middle of my desk again, where it’d started.

 

Picking my pen back up in that moment, because I’d actually needed it, I quickly scribbling down a few words I thought might actually be relevant for an upcoming exam, and then I kept my pen in my hand after that, glancing around nervously to make sure nobody else had noticed what’d just happened. Nobody had. Or at least, nobody had been staring at me as if I were a witch, so if somebody else had noticed my pen rolling back and forth then they at least hadn’t realized what they’d actually just witnessed and probably just thought I’d pushed it in my boredom.

 

Trying to pay genuine attention to the professor for the next few minutes, I knew I couldn’t ignore what’d just happened for very long, and so after a few brief minutes I wrote out the quick formula ‘Inuyasha left / Kikyou right’ on the top of my notes, near where I’d written the word ‘again’. I’d figured that whomever it was would understand my meaning, knowing that I was definitely dealing with one or the other. Or at least, I’d hoped I was.

 

I was so not ready to deal with the concept of other, random spirits seeking me out.

 

Actually, even the realization that either Inuyasha or Kikyou had followed me to school had been about at my limit of unanticipated creepiness at that time.

 

Disney’s Haunted Mansion told me to beware of hitchhiking ghosts, but did I listen? Nooooo... I sarcastically scolded myself, hoping with mentally crossed fingers that I was dealing with Inuyasha.

 

Turned out I was right, and almost immediately after my fingertips left the pen it started rolling steadily towards the left.

 

Cool, now I don’t have to worry about trying to contact him again. He beat me to it... I’d thought then, both pleased and relieved.

 

Made much more sense that he’d haunt me rather than Kikyou, really. Thinking about it, I’d figured she probably didn’t want to have anything more to do with me.

 

Well tough titties...

 

Again scribbling a note for my invisible companion, I wrote simply ‘Stay with me, we’ll talk after class.’

 

Nothing paranormal seemed to happen after that, and at the time I could only hope it meant that he was going to let me get back to the lecture now that he’d gotten my attention, and not that he’d used up all his energy and was gone now for however long it took him to recharge.

 

Trying again to put thoughts of ghosts out of my head for the time being, then, since I knew there was nothing I could do about it in that moment either way, I genuinely paid attention throughout the rest of class. Once class was over, since I fortunately had about a half hour or so to kill before my next one, no pun intended, I wandered over to a little used corner of the campus landscape near where my next class was going to be and settled down in the shade of a tall tree, my back against the trunk. It was the place I often went to, to wait for my next class to start. It was peaceful there, the large tree bringing me a sense of nature and comfort.

 

“Okay...” I started, speaking seemingly to no one. I kept my voice down so as to avoid catching anyone’s attention. “If you can actually speak out loud, even if it’s just a whisper, that’d probably be the easiest and fastest way for us to communicate, but if that’s too draining for you then we can also try it this way.”

 

Taking my cellphone out of my pocket, which I’d plugged in to charge the night before, I went into the notepad app.

 

“You can either use the keyboard...” I said, demonstrating, “...or you can even just use your fingertip to draw on the paper.”

 

I demonstrated that as well, then held my phone out flat in my right hand, waiting for him to try it. I wasn’t sure if a trick like moving the pen on my desk had actually been done with genuine touch, or just by releasing a blast of projected energy, but I’d definitely felt his hand clasp mine the night before, so if he could do that then surely he could operate the touch screen of a smart phone, right?

 

It’d made sense at the time, but apparently I’d been wrong because nothing happened.

 

“Okay...” I said again after a minute, quickly coming up with Plan B. “I hate to offer this, ‘cause you know how us girls are with our phones, but if you need to, then go ahead and use its battery. Drain it, if it’ll help you speak to me like you spoke last night.”

 

That got a reaction. It was utterly fascinating, watching how quickly the percentage started going down on my battery life indicator. Almost like a countdown on a digital clock, the number kept steadily decreasing. In what seemed like no time at all my phone started giving me a low battery warning, and then it shut down.

 

Then I suddenly heard what sounded to me like “Need help...” whispered in my ear.

 

“Do you mean that you need help, spiritually? That you need my help, like to pass on? Or that Kikyou needs my help? Or, do you just mean that you need help communicating, like now?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Ooookay, that doesn’t really help me but okay.”

 

I supposed the correct answer was probably ‘all of the above’. I’d still felt like I was making progress, though. At least I knew I wasn’t crazy. At least I knew I really was speaking with Inuyasha’s ghost. I’d just hoped that he wasn’t going to stay so damn cryptic. Reminded me of ghosts in movies and TV shows that try to help the main hero figure stuff out, but always through rhyme and riddle. Why couldn’t a ghost ever just say anything outright?! But reminding myself in that moment that Inuyasha might be having difficulty communicating with me, I’d tried not to take his vague responses personally. His ‘intelligence’, as a haunting, wasn’t in question. I knew he was aware; I knew he was trying to communicate with me. I figured he was probably as frustrated as I was.

 

Closing my eyes, I sighed quietly, trying to figure out what to say or ask next. A hand gently touching my shoulder snapped me out of it, and I opened my eyes with a start, expecting to see, well, anyone among the living. Instead, my eyes damn near bugged out of my head to see Inuyasha kneeling before me, his right arm outstretched, hand resting on my left shoulder. I could still feel it as I looked into his eyes, and his body appeared solid, like a real person.

 

If I hadn’t known he was a ghost I would have totally thought he was a real person.

 

“Better?” he asked, sounding normal as well, his voice coming from his form before me, and I was damn near blown away.

 

It took me a few seconds to realize how Goddamn cold I suddenly felt, like I’d been chilled from the inside out, like I was locked inside a meat freezer in the back of a restaurant, but I didn’t give a shit. The point on my shoulder where he was touching me, it still felt like a hand, and it wasn’t painful. I knew he was tapping my energy in order to fuel himself, maybe linking the two of us together a bit, tying his energy in with mine, but I didn’t mind. I wasn’t afraid. I trusted him; trusted that he knew what he was doing.

 

“Much better,” I murmured quietly, remaining conscientious of the fact that, as far as I knew, to any passersby I would appear to be talking to myself.

 

“You’re the first...who can see...” he said, and it sounded like speaking was very difficult for him.

 

I would’ve thought he sounded out of breath, if I’d have thought he still needed to breathe. I supposed what he was doing was probably the mental energy equivalent to struggling to lift a very heavy weight, and you could only hold it up for so long.

 

“I don’t know why I can see, but you’re not the first I’ve seen,” I told him then, and he nodded, before his image started to fade away right before my eyes, the sensation of his hand on my shoulder also disappearing.

 

“Wait!” I said, a bit louder than I’d meant to.

 

A couple of students walking by too close for comfort turned and glanced in my direction, so I quickly raised the dead phone still in my right hand up to my ear and pretended to be having a conversation with somebody on the other end.

 

Sometimes I amaze myself with the level of my genius.

 

“Are you still there?” I asked then, any possible observers none the wiser.

 

I both felt and heard a small tap beside my ear, as if somebody had tapped the exposed part of the back of my phone with their fingertip.

 

“Okay, there we go,” I said then, happily thinking that we just might be in business. “Is that easy enough for you to do?”

 

Another tap.

 

Lowering my voice a little bit because this next part would’ve sounded weird to an eavesdropper, although I was definitely keeping the phone at my ear for both appearances and functionality so I at least didn’t look like I was talking to myself anymore, I asked, “How about we switch to two taps for yes, and one for no, sound good?”

 

Two taps.

 

“Okay, perfect.”

 

Grinning, and still keeping my voice low enough so that I could more or less speak freely, since there weren’t too many other people milling around, I quickly decided that figuring things out with Inuyasha was more important than one or two eavesdroppers possibly thinking I was nuts.

 

“Is your soul trapped in limbo, unable to move on?”

 

Surprisingly, I only received one tap.

 

“Wait, so you can ‘move on’ to the next life if you wanted to?” I asked, confused.

 

I received two taps, so I definitely knew he was doing the ‘yes’ and ‘no’ thing correctly. An idea came to me, then.

 

Curious, I asked, “Is Kikyou’s soul trapped, unable to move on?”

 

Two taps.

 

Working off a hunch, then, I asked, “Are you yourself choosing to stay because Kikyou is trapped here?”

 

Two taps.

 

Things were starting to make sense now.

 

“Can you communicate with Kikyou?”

 

One tap.

 

“Is she what people call a ‘residual haunting’, meaning she’s just an echo of energy, completely trapped in her own suffering on a repeating loop, unaware of the outside world?”

 

I hadn’t thought that was the case since the night before it’d certainly seemed like we’d been communicating with Kikyou just fine, but I just wanted to clear up any possible misconceptions I might’ve had.

 

One tap. So I’d been right.

 

“Thought so. So she is indeed what we call an ‘intelligent haunting’, like you, meaning she’s aware of what’s going on and is basically still herself but just no longer in a physical body?”

 

Two taps.

 

“But yet, you can’t communicate with her, is that right?” That part still hadn’t made sense yet.

 

I received another yes, so knowing I couldn’t ask him why and that he could only answer ‘yes’ or ‘no’ I went off the first theory that came to mind, figuring I’d go from there.

 

Process of elimination and all that.

 

“Is she aware of your presence?”

 

Yes

 

Okay, so that eliminated the possibility that, intelligent haunting or no, she was for some strange reason unaware of Inuyasha’s presence. I’d supposed it really didn’t make sense that she wouldn’t be aware of him, since he was aware of her. Thinking back on the night before, and how he’d told her not to throw that broken glass even though she had, and my own thoughts on Kikyou being a scorned woman, the most likely explanation presented itself in that moment.

 

“Is she simply not letting you explain yourself, refusing to listen whenever you try to talk to her?”

 

Yes

 

Damn. Fifty years of not letting the poor guy get a word in edgewise.

 

Of course, I was sure that at some point he must have managed to actually tell her he wasn’t her murderer, she probably just hadn’t believed him, refusing to listen to reason, refusing to let go of her hatred. No wonder she’d gotten so pissed off when I’d come along and told her the same thing.

 

I’d suspected that most other college students that had ever held a séance in her honor had probably only asked her for a sign of her presence, and they’d gotten their jollies on hearing her make knocking sounds, or watching her move objects around. Probably nobody else had ever bothered trying to tell her about Naraku being her murderer instead of Inuyasha, and if they had and she’d flipped out on them the same way she’d done us, then that had probably put an end to it right then and there, the spooked students never trying to contact her ever again.

 

I wasn’t going to be so easily persuaded.

 

“Is Kikyou here with us now?”

 

No

 

“Do you know where she is?”

 

Yes

 

“Can you help me get in contact with her again, when I’m ready to talk to her?”

 

Yes

 

“Can I get in contact with you whenever I need to? Are you always going to be around and able to communicate?”

 

I nearly dropped my phone in surprise when, seemingly coming from the phone’s speaker, I heard Inuyasha’s voice say “I will stay with you.”

 

It was quiet, nearly a whisper, but clear enough that I knew what I’d heard, and I took it to mean that, maybe under normal circumstances, he wasn’t necessarily always around, but because he knew I was trying to help he’d stick with me for that reason, so that he’d always be there whenever I might need him, since he knew I was trying to help Kikyou.

 

Hearing him tell me he’d stay with me, which basically meant he was going to be haunting me for the next however long it took to deal with Kikyou, didn’t frighten me in the slightest, even if for a normal person it would have. Instead, I’d felt relieved, grateful even, that he was so willing to help. I’d figured he was probably feeling just as relieved, thinking that finally here was somebody who could and would help him get through to Kikyou after all this time. I could definitely understand his desire to stick by me throughout the process.

 

I don’t know what’d possessed me to say what I said next, but he was a twenty-year-old college boy, or at least, he’d used to be.

 

“Just no peeking when I’m changing clothes, using the restroom or in the shower,” I said, a grin sprouting on my lips, a teasing twinkle in my eyes that for some reason, I could sense that he could see. I could sense that he could see me, hence my playful scolding.

 

I heard a deep male chuckle, then, and the sound sent shivers down my spine. In what way, I wasn’t quite sure, but realizing in that moment that I was pretty much at his mercy, and that in all likelihood my privacy was about to be invaded over the next few days, that knowledge didn’t bother me as much as it probably should have, either. I’d just tried to tell myself that when you’re dead that sort of thing just doesn’t matter anymore, and that he’d only laughed at me because he’d thought my shyness was silly, not because he was a pervert who’d been taking advantage of being invisible for the last fifty years and I’d just called him out on it.

 

Besides, he loves Kikyou...he’s not going to go and kinda be unfaithful to her by sexually peeping at other girls when we’re right in the middle of trying to convince her of his innocence and love... I told myself then, realizing my shyness was silly.

 

Quickly deciding to change the subject, I cleared my throat with a chuckle of my own, and said, “Well...I’ve got to get to my next class. We’ll talk more later.”

 

Nothing paranormal happened throughout my next class, although I had kind of felt the sensation of being watched, a feeling that remained with me when I left for lunch afterwards. Yuka found me at the nearby McDonald’s and expressed her relief to see that I was safe and sound, telling me how she’d tried to call me during the break after my first class and how she’d gotten worried when my phone went straight to voicemail.

 

Apologizing, I told her briefly and quietly what’d happened and why my phone was dead, promising I’d try my best to keep her and the others updated on my progress as I explored my newfound working relationship with Inuyasha and our mutual goal of calming Kikyou’s spirit. I also told her I was glad she’d found me because I was thinking I’d probably head home for the weekend, so that Inuyasha and I would have a quiet place to work things out where Kikyou wouldn’t become an issue before I was ready, and I asked her in that moment if she could give me a ride, Yuka the only one out of our foursome who owned her own car.

 

We usually took turns driving so that Yuka wouldn’t feel like our chauffeur, even though that was exactly what I’d needed her to be in that instance. She had readily agreed, though, much to my relief and gratitude. I hated the bus.

 

After lunch we bade each other a temporary farewell, and then it was time for my psychology class. I paid extra attention when the lecture turned out to be about how to help somebody deal with a troubling past and painful memories. That was what I wanted to do with myself career wise, after all, helping others to deal with their drama as a licensed therapist, and so absorbing as much from the class as I could I’d told myself to think of it as if I were about to have my very first patient.

 

In a way, Kikyou was just like a regular person, no different from anyone else. Though granted, on the other hand, she was also a vengeful Japanese spirit; a type of specter that was notorious for eternally holding grudges. I’d mentally sighed just thinking about it, knowing I was about to put myself through some serious hell, although my desire to help her was still just as strong as ever. I wasn’t going to back down from the challenge I knew it was going to be. Why I was quickly becoming so obsessed with the notion of helping her at all costs I hadn’t a clue, but like Eri’d said, I was born with a gift, and I wasn’t going to question it.

 

So this is what it feels like to have a calling... I’d thought, feeling both proud and humbled, as I exited my psychology class and made a quick decision, heading left instead of right.

 

Having decided it wouldn’t be detrimental to skip my last class of the day, and knowing that I needed to get to the library before they closed, that became my destination. Logging online on one of their desktop computers as soon as I got there, I’d immediately began looking up and printing out some of the articles I’d come across in my original online research two days prior. I’d looked the sites up on my own laptop before, and so hadn’t printed anything out at the time.

 

Thanks to remembering what a lot of my successful search criteria had been I was able to bring most of the pages I’d wanted back up in fairly short order, plus I also found a few new bits of information that I knew would definitely come in handy, like the fact that professional paranormal researchers had done a stint at Kikyou’s family home only a few short years ago. Realizing she had some immediate relatives that were still alive and well, since the article had stated that the house was still in the family, and also knowing that it meant the rumors of her spirit also haunting her childhood home were true (because otherwise, why call in the investigators?), I made a quick detour to the white pages and got the address. That would really come in handy when I was ready, the wheels in my head already turning.

 

Besides Kikyou’s old home address, I had a nice collection of ‘evidence’ to show her, once I was ready to try talking to her again. I had things like original newspaper articles about her death, and about Naraku’s subsequent conviction. Eyewitness accounts of the bereaved and enraged Inuyasha ripping his mask off as he arrived on scene, assuring all present of his identity, before he’d tackled Naraku to the ground, trying, and nearly succeeding, to kill the impersonator with his own knife, before unfortunately also gaining a fatal wound in the process.

 

Looking over the eyewitness accounts of what’d happened back then, I’d found myself wondering in that moment why and how it was that Kikyou could be more or less ‘aware’ of the world around her but yet still be so thoroughly convinced of Inuyasha’s guilt, unless of course her anger had actually stemmed from his failure to either protect or avenge her, but the sensation I’d gotten the night before was definitely that she still thought he was her killer. I knew I didn’t really understand how the afterlife worked, though, and that just because I could apparently see and speak with ghosts easier than the average person it certainly didn’t make me an expert on the subject.

 

Perhaps Kikyou’s spirit had been in a kind of shock for the first few minutes of her death, unable to process what was happening around her, and then when she came to Inuyasha was already dead, his spirit trying to approach hers to explain, and outraged she’d gotten away from his ghost and had never let him communicate with her ever since. For all I knew, Kikyou could have been under the impression it’d been a murder/suicide, and that Inuyasha had killed her and then himself so that the two of them could be together forever.

 

That’d sure as hell piss me off, and I knew I definitely wouldn’t want to have anything to do with my boyfriend any longer after pulling a stunt like that, either.

 

Not that I’d actually had a boyfriend at the time, but that was beside the point. I knew I needed to try and put myself in Kikyou’s shoes, while she was still in them, and then with my guidance I’d help her walk towards the light, so to speak. Hopefully.

 

That was the plan, at least.

 

Wondering if I should check out any books on how to deal with the paranormal but then quickly deciding against it, figuring I’d let my TV watching experience and my instincts be my guide, I collected my papers and headed back to the dorms. Eri was already there and welcomed me as I came in. She hadn’t been that worried about me, she’d said, since Yuka had already filled her in on why my phone was dead. She greeted me happily from her place at her computer desk and invited me to take a listen to what EVPs she’d found so far, cataloging all the ‘electronic voice phenomenons’ we’d recorded the previous night.

 

Turned out everything we’d heard with our own ears was also on the tape, which had been a huge relief, finding that out. It was evidence to support the fact that we were neither liars nor crazy. I did want to let Eri go ahead and go forward with telling others what’d happened to us; I just wanted the opportunity to help Kikyou, first, so that people could then marvel over what our experience had been and it wouldn’t put Kikyou through any further turmoil, her spirit no longer in limbo.

 

The video evidence was the most compelling, for sure, once Eri showed me the footage. It was something that would definitely have to go on the Internet at some point, my shaky recording still clearly showing how the flashlight had started freaking out before the light bulb popped, not to mention all the previous interaction we’d had with the mini Mags, all the ‘yes’ and ‘no’ questions we’d gotten answers to. I had to admit, our little séance, as unprofessional as it’d been, had been very successful.

 

As Eri went to grab her phone and call Yuka and Ayumi to come over to our room and take a look as well, I took a seat at the computer and replayed the last of the video footage from just before the camera went dead.

 

Suddenly feeling the sensation of somebody standing right behind me, as if leaning in and peering over my shoulder to stare at what I was doing, and knowing that it wasn’t Eri because she was still on the other end of the room and on the phone, I murmured quietly and conversationally, “Modern technology’s pretty groovy, huh?”

 

“Huh?” Eri asked, interrupting herself mid-sentence with Yuka as she lowered her phone from her ear. “What’d you say?”

 

“Nothing,” I replied, waving it off.

 

Eri quickly finished telling Yuka to grab Ayumi and head over to our room before rushing back over to my side.

 

“You were talking to Inuyasha, weren’t you?” she asked excitedly. “Is he here now?”

 

“I...I think so...it’s just a feeling I have,” I replied honestly. “But even if he is here, he’s not a sideshow monkey for your amusement,” I added, for some reason feeling defensive at the notion.

 

Instead of looking offended by my comment, Eri waved her hand as if unconcerned.

 

“I’m not going to ask him to perform any ‘stupid ghost tricks’, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she assured me, giggling. “I just want to know if he’s here. I think it’s cool, the way you can interact with him. I’m jealous, but I do understand that he’s still a person with feelings. I want to help you help him and Kikyou.”

 

Looking a little guilty, a frown forming on her face, Eri glanced around our dorm room, as if looking for any kind of sign of where Inuyasha might’ve been standing, assuming he was standing at all and not just ‘there’ without form or substance.

 

“I’m sorry, Inuyasha, for having a hand in upsetting Kikyou last night,” she apologized then, much to my surprise. “I hadn’t really thought about there being a way to help you guys, before last night, but I certainly didn’t want to hurt either of you. I’d just wanted to know once and for all if the ghost stories were real, if she was real, since I did already believe in ghosts but had never personally experienced anything for myself as far as our school being haunted. Seeing is believing, right? So I’d wanted confirmation, I’d wanted proof of ghosts, to know that I was right, but I hadn’t really thought about the fact that you two are still suffering, and I’m sorry.”

 

I just blinked at her, totally baffled, and more than a little impressed. I was jarred out of my stupor by the sound of Inuyasha’s voice murmuring quietly, “Apology accepted.”

 

I smiled a little, and at the same moment Eri’s eyes widened and she darted her eyes around the room as if frantically trying to search for something.

 

“Did you hear that, Kagome?” she asked me. “I think I just heard a guy’s voice, but I couldn’t understand what it was saying.”

 

“It was Inuyasha,” I answered. “He said ‘apology accepted.’”

 

The smile that blossomed on Eri’s face was one in a million, and it truly touched my heart that she so readily believed me. I was telling the truth, of course, but most people probably wouldn’t have believed it so easily, I knew.

 

Before either of us could say anything else in that moment there was a knock on the door, and upon Eri’s welcoming answer the door opened to reveal Yuka and Ayumi, who were both bouncing with excitement over getting to see and listen to our video and audio recordings from the night before.

 

Letting the three of them squee in their excitement, I moved to observe quietly from my bed as they huddled together over Eri’s computer desk. Sitting cross-legged atop my covers, I went through the collection of papers I’d printed out at the library. I’d had a nice, long, mostly one-sided conversation with Inuyasha during the walk back to the dorms, my dead cell held to my ear of course to avoid looking like a lunatic, and from the few yes and no taps he’d given me when prompted I knew he was on board with the angle of my developing plan.

 

Plugging my cell in in that moment, I let it get enough of a charge to turn back on and function, and then, while my roommate and friends were still giggling and gasping over the stuff playing on Eri’s computer, I made a phone call.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Hi Mom...”

 

`````````````````````````````````

 

“Mama, Souta, Grampa! I’m home!” I called out, walking through the front door, tucking my key back in my pocket.

 

“Welcome home, dear,” my mother replied, walking in from the kitchen. “It’s always such a pleasure when you decide to come home for the weekend. I’m making your favorite for dinner.”

 

Sending her a thankful smile followed by a mildly apologetic and sheepish grin, I said, “I’m sorry I sprung it on you so last minute like this.”

 

“Oh nonsense...” she waved off. “This is your home. You are welcome here at any time.”

 

Grinning at that, I hugged and kissed her after kicking my shoes off in the entryway, and then made my way up to my bedroom with my overnight bag.

 

“Hey, squirt,” I said as I passed Souta in the upstairs hall, ruffling his hair.

 

“I’m not a squirt any longer,” he said, proudly pointing out the fact that we were around the same height.

 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah...” I acknowledged as I entered my room. “Grow as tall as you like; it’ll never change the fact that I’m the oldest.”

 

With that said I shut the door before he could retort, snickering to myself as I sat my bag down on my bed and went over to my desk, taking a pencil out of the pencil cup and setting it on the desk.

 

“You’re here, right?” I asked, not having ‘felt’ anything ‘off’ during the car ride.

 

I’d figured that the sensation of being watched, of not being alone, probably came and went with how intensely he charged himself up, and whether or not he was disturbing the electromagnetic field around me.

 

Or maybe it’s my own sensitivity to him that’s ebbing and flowing, and I’ve got to learn to concentrate... I thought as I smiled, pleased, when the pencil immediately started rolling. It was a hexagonal pencil, too.

 

“Okay, good, I’m glad. We’ve got a lot to figure out tonight,” I said, as I made my way over to my dresser and grabbed some clean underwear, a pair of sweats and a t-shirt.

 

“I’m gonna hop in the shower first, though. Now remember, no peeking,” I teased. Chuckling, I opened the door to head out, only to gasp in surprise at the sight of Souta standing right in my doorway.

 

“Sheesh, twerp. You just waiting there to spook me or what?” I asked, laughing a bit despite myself.

 

He didn’t acknowledge my teasing accusation, raising a single eyebrow in inquiry.

 

“Who were you talking to?”

 

My eyes widened a little.

 

“Nobody,” I answered quickly. Too quickly.

 

Leaning forward a bit, he peered around inside my room, as if to confirm for himself that I hadn’t smuggled a boyfriend in through the window or something.

 

“There’s nobody else here,” I said defiantly.

 

“Then who were you talking to?” he countered, just as defiantly.

 

I had to hand it to him. The twerp had balls.

 

Thinking quickly, I replied with “Eri,” while reaching for the cell still in my pocket and holding it up as evidence.

 

His expression clearly indicated that he did not believe me.

 

“The only way she could possibly peep on you in the shower is if you had your cell on video chat while in there, like that makes sense. Are you going to tell me there’s a guy using Eri’s phone that you’re going to let watch you shower, and you wanted to make sure Eri herself was not in the room at the time?”

 

His tone of voice made it beyond obvious that he didn’t really believe that possible explanation for even a second, and even if he had, I could feel how red my face had gotten at his ‘hypothesis’ and I just knew my expression had been a dead giveaway.

 

“Okay, fine, I never have been able to lie to you,” I conceded then, and he grinned triumphantly. “But!” I continued rapidly, peering down the hall for a minute and then lowering my voice as I met his eyes seriously. “You cannot tell Mom. She just wouldn’t believe it, and I’d rather not rehash old, painful memories for her.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“I’ll explain that part, too. You were just a baby at the time. Let me go shower, ‘cause I stink, and then I’ll tell you everything after dinner, okay?”

 

Leaning in, he sniffed, then making a show of crinkling his nose and waving his hand in front of his face he said, “You’re right, you do need a shower.”

 

“Har-dee-har-har.”

 

“I’m gonna hold you to that promise, Siss. Whatever it is, it sounds good.”

 

“Oh, it is,” I replied, grinning, before then making my way past him to the upstairs bathroom.

 

Both my shower and dinner passed by uneventfully, aside from my growing sense of anxiety over confessing everything to my younger brother, but regardless, true to my word, I invited Souta into my room once it was time to more or less retire for the night. Grandpa’s room was downstairs and he always slept like a rock, so he wasn’t a concern, but with Mom’s room just at the end of the hall I was worried about her possibly overhearing us if we got too loud, so first and foremost I made Souta swear that he’d keep his voice down no matter what.

 

Even though I was feeling nervous to tell him what all I’d experienced, I’d also felt giddy, in a way. I was excited to share the truth with him because I just knew he’d get a total kick out of it. I knew he was into the paranormal ‘cause we’d always watched those ghost shows on the Syfy network together over the years. In fact, the main reason I’d even started watching them in the first place was because watching him watch them had almost been more entertaining than the shows themselves.

 

I’d just hoped he wasn’t going to demand Inuyasha perform any ‘stupid ghost tricks’.

 

Figuring I should start at the beginning, I told him first about how, when I was six, I saw our father’s ghost, only our mother hadn’t believed me and had thought I was either straight out making it up or it’d been a dream. I told him about how I’d eventually convinced myself that it’d been a dream, too, and how later, when I saw Grandma’s ghost, I’d completely ignored it and had convinced myself from the start that it’d only been my imagination, never realizing until now that what I’d actually seen back then was real.

 

He listened, wide-eyed, fortunately believing me instead of thinking either that I had dreamt it as a child or that I was trying to trick him in that moment, which I greatly appreciated.

 

I then told him about the legend of Kikyou and Inuyasha from my college, which I found out he was actually already vaguely aware of thanks to the older siblings of some of his own school friends, although he told me in that moment that he’d never paid much attention to those rumors, believing in ghosts but having brushed off those stories as a stupid college prank. I told him how I hadn’t believed the paranormal stories, either, until the night before, on Halloween night, and how, the day before last, I’d done online research to at least verify that the people involved had really existed. The story of the murders was true.

 

He looked a little shaken up to hear that part, probably correctly assuming where I was going with my elaborate tale, since I’d told him how the previous night, Halloween night, had been my turning point. I launched into it, then, telling him how Eri had convinced me and the others to go along with her to the cemetery, how we’d played paranormal investigators and conducted an EVP session, the whole nine yards. I told him how Kikyou had made contact, and how she’d freaked out, freaking us out in the process, and then how Inuyasha had also made contact, how he’d shown himself and had even saved me from possibly getting some really nasty cuts or even losing an eye when Kikyou, in poltergeist-mode, had chucked a bunch of broken glass at me.

 

I also told him about how Inuyasha and I were actually still in contact with each other, and how he was going to help me try to help Kikyou. I told him that that was who he’d heard me talking to earlier in my room. I told him I could prove I wasn’t making it up, too, since I’d brought a copy of our video from the cemetery with me, showing our flashlight communication with Kikyou up until the camera went dead.

 

“I’m definitely gonna take you up on that offer, Sis, but I wanna know more about Inuyasha now,” he said quietly but excitedly, asking for clarification, “You can just talk with him, like he’s a normal person? You two are working together to help Kikyou find peace?”

 

“Yes, we can talk like normal, for the most part, and we’re definitely going to try and help Kikyou,” I told him, explaining, “I haven’t tried talking to Kikyou again yet, but my plan is to try and get in contact with her again tomorrow. I don’t know how successful I’ll be, but I have to at least try.”

 

I added that that was why I’d decided to come home for the weekend, so that Inuyasha and I could get a little privacy to figure things out without the risk of Kikyou eavesdropping on what we were planning and only hearing half the story, and then thinking we were plotting against her or trying to trick her or something. Who knew what was going through that mind of hers?

 

There were also some other things I’d wanted to clear up with Inuyasha himself, discussing in greater length the passed down rumors of their tragedy to figure out what, exactly, was true and what wasn’t, and so I’d wanted privacy for that as well. No Kikyou, and no Eri. Even though I knew Eri wouldn’t have interfered, directly, I wouldn’t have felt comfortable with her staring at me in amazement or whatever while I tried communicating with him. Inuyasha wasn’t a circus freak, and neither was I, even though I knew I couldn’t really blame her for being amazed. It was an amazing situation, I had to admit.

 

“You got that right.” Souta agreed, asking, “So is Inuyasha here now? Can he do anything to show himself?”

 

“Souta...” I scolded. “What did I just-”

 

“I know, I know...” he interrupted, “...and it’s not like we share the same room like you and Eri do at your school, so you’ll have plenty of privacy tonight. I just wanna see or hear something and then I’ll leave you two alone, promise.”

 

“That’s why I offered to show you the video. That’ll prove-”

 

“But it’s not the same thing and you know it,” he interrupted again, his voice whiny, pleading.

 

I could understand his desire to experience something first-hand instead of just watching a video, but I did not feel comfortable asking Inuyasha to ‘perform’ for my brother’s satisfaction.

 

Closing my eyes and sighing, I pinched the bridge of my nose.

 

“If he wants to do something for you, that’s up to him, but I’m not going to ask him to do-” I started, stopping mid-sentence when we both heard a faint thumping sound coming from Souta’s bedroom next door.

 

Wordlessly meeting each other’s eyes, we quickly got up and went into his room.

 

His Ouija board was on the floor, sitting upright, lid still in place, as if someone had merely sat the box there. Glancing up at the bookshelf unit it had been on, there was a perfect, empty slot in the middle of his various, vertically stacked boardgames.

 

“Oh no way!” he said, eyes lit up in glee, as he rushed forward, grabbed the box, jumped up onto the bed and immediately began setting it up. “Come on, Sis, what are you waiting for?” he asked, beckoning me over with a frantic wave of his hand.

 

“Keep your voice down,” I reminded quietly. We were even closer to our mother’s bedroom in his room than we were in mine.

 

Still, I did have to admit that that’d been a fairly obvious sign. I was surprised by Inuyasha’s generosity, but was definitely going to go with the program. The Ouija board had never even crossed my mind, but as I thought about it I was sure that others at my college must have used them in the past to contact Kikyou, and so clearly he’d seen them before and knew how they worked.

 

I also wondered how many times in the past Inuyasha had tried, and failed, to use them to communicate, the people involved for whatever reason never quite getting the message that it was him and not his girlfriend.

 

It was a question I hadn’t planned on asking, though. I’d figured there was no point in dredging up his previous, failed attempts at communication. He had somebody to communicate with now, and so maybe instead of asking all the questions I should let Inuyasha just say what he wanted to say, I’d thought in that moment.

 

Right in that moment, however, I was going to go ahead and let Souta ask the questions. This was his playtime with the ghost; Inuyasha had offered, and I was more curious than anything else.

 

Joining my brother on his bed, we both placed our hands on the planchette, and Souta didn’t waste any time getting down to business.

 

“Inuyasha, was that you who suggested we use my Ouija board?”

 

Slowly, the pointer moved over toward the ‘yes’ on the board, and it had been the oddest sensation, feeling a cold set of hands gently cupping my own as the planchette moved. I swear it had felt as if the hands touching mine had been the ones guiding the movement; I was trying especially hard to not move the pointer at all just to be absolutely certain I wasn’t doing anything subconsciously.

 

There was no denying the feeling of his hands, though. Hands which became warmer to the touch as the light in Souta’s room flickered for a moment, dimming before coming back to full brightness.

 

“Whoa...” Souta murmured, completely awestruck, and I had to admit that really, so was I. One day was a little soon to find the whole ‘communicating with the dead’ thing blasé and unimpressive, after all.

 

“Is everything my sister said about what happened last night true?” Souta asked next.

 

As if I would’ve been honest about the ghost thing but then lied about other details, sheesh... I thought, although I didn’t say anything out loud as the planchette moved away from the ‘yes’ and then back towards it again.

 

“What’s it like being dead?” Souta asked then, and I bit back a groan.

 

Oh, it’s a stroll through daisies, I’m sure... I thought, mentally snorting. Daisies you’re pushing up as you go along...

 

I rolled my eyes at the thought, hiding it by closing them halfway through although I doubt Souta would’ve noticed anyway, his eyes fixated on the pointer as it began moving again. Curiosity getting the better of me once I felt it stop momentarily on the first letter, I glanced down and made mental note of the letter L, figuring it was way too soon to make any guesses as to what Inuyasha was spelling out. I’d always sucked at Wheel of Fortune, anyway.

When I realized he’d spelled the word Lonely I’d felt a pang in my heart I hadn’t been expecting.

 

“Well you’re not alone anymore,” Souta replied matter-of-factly, and I really respected my brother in that moment. “Kagome’s your friend, and even though she can see you and I probably can’t, we can at least communicate this way, so I’m your friend, too.”

 

The feel of his hands came back and the pointer started moving again, going back up to the ‘yes’ spot, and I felt my eyes tearing up. With his hands leaving mine once again, I then experienced what felt to me like a finger wiping away the single tear that’d slid down my cheek, and he must have actually done it because Souta’s eyes became impossibly wide as he stared at my face.

 

I felt cold, then. So very cold. I felt a set of hands on my face, gently turning my head to look to the side, and then I saw a pair of concerned chocolate brown eyes that were not my brother’s gazing deeply into my own.

 

“Please don’t cry...” I heard him whisper.

 

I could hear Souta talking to me, then, but I couldn’t quite make out what he was saying, lost in Inuyasha’s eyes as I was. Then I didn’t think I felt as cold anymore, and I was vaguely aware of the light in Souta’s ceiling fan flickering again, going dim and back again a few more times. Then suddenly Souta was in my face, saying my name louder than I would’ve preferred, asking me frantically if I was okay while shaking my shoulders. As if snapping out of a trance, I shook my disorientation free and offered my younger brother a genuine smile as I calmly reached up and removed his hands from my shoulders, giving them both a gentle squeeze before releasing. He sat back, asking me again if I was okay.

 

“I’m fine, Souta,” I assured him. “Inuyasha would never hurt me. He was just-”

 

The door to Souta’s room swung open and we both turned our heads in surprise to see our mother rushing worriedly into the room.

 

“Kagome? Souta? What...?”

 

It must have been Souta calling my name that’d earned her attention, but seeing that I was clearly all right, and also seeing the Ouija board between us – something our mother had not really wanted Souta to have in the first place – her worried expression immediately melted into a disapproving frown.

 

“What’s going on?”

 

“Nothing, Mom, we’re just playing around. He doesn’t have school tomorrow, so I figured what’s the harm in hanging out for a while? We haven’t seen each other in weeks,” I answered right away before Souta could say anything, trying to sound as perfectly normal and nonchalant as possible.

 

Honestly, what was the harm in goofing off with my younger brother if we missed each other and wanted to stay up visiting for a while, right?

 

If it’d been any other board game in the world, I’m sure our mother would have agreed with me. But considering what we were playing, and Souta’s frantic cries asking me if I was okay, she wasn’t so easily swayed.

 

“That kind of rubbish is not just harmless play, Kagome,” she scolded, almost accusingly. “Just what were you doing to scare Souta like that?”

 

Ah...so she thinks I was pretending to be possessed or some other such nonsense to get a rise out of Souta... I realized.

 

I knew trying to talk myself out of that one wasn’t going to be easy. He had sounded genuinely frightened, after all, because he had been genuinely frightened. Best to take the blame, I’d decided then.

 

“It was just a stupid prank, Mom. I’m sorry,” I offered, giving her my best ‘unthinking youth’ apologetic smile.

 

She slouched some and sighed quietly, a reticent half-smile creeping up her lips. She seemed disappointed in me, which hurt, but I knew it was for the best. Whatever she might’ve said next, though, I’ll never know because Souta spoke up in that moment, much to my chagrin.

 

“Kagome didn’t fake nothin’! She really can see ghosts, and you’ve known it since she was six!”

 

“Damn it Souta,” I grumbled under my breath, while our mom stood back with a hurt and surprised look on her face, as if she felt slapped by Souta’s words.

 

“Just what nonsense have you been filling your brother’s head with, Kagome?” she asked me next, but Souta wasn’t done defending me yet.

 

He wasn’t a little boy any longer, and the rebellious fourteen-year-old was going to stand up for what he knew was right.

 

“I don’t understand why you’re upset, Mom. What’s the harm in believing that maybe Dad’s ghost really did come to say goodbye? Wouldn’t that be a wonderful thing to believe in? Why accuse Kagome of making it up?”

 

She sighed, looking exasperated, but it didn’t turn into a screaming match, yet.

 

“Because there’s no such thing as ghosts, plain and simple, and it doesn’t do any good to entertain such fantasies. You only hurt yourself more in the long run, believing in something that doesn’t exist. You need to accept the truth and move on.”

 

“But the truth is ghosts do exist, and we’re talking to one right now.”

 

“Souta, enough,” Mom said, in the tone of voice we’d both learned growing up meant not to push the issue any further.

 

In this matter, though, I could tell Souta wasn’t going to back down, and I wasn’t going to let him take a bullet for me, either. Reaching across the board, Souta and I met each other’s eyes as I took his hand in mind, and then I turned and met our mother’s eyes again.

 

“Last night the girls and I held a séance at the cemetery, and we made contact with the ghosts of Kikyou and Inuyasha.”

 

I knew she’d know who they were, since she’d gone to the same college.

 

“We communicated with Kikyou using the flashlight technique, and I have a video on my USB stick to prove it. I’m also still in contact with Inuyasha; he’s staying with me while we work together to figure out how to help Kikyou’s soul find peace, and he’s in this room, with us, right now.”

 

“Kagome, stop,” Mom said, looking really pissed off, and if I’d still been a child I would’ve cowered at the look in her eyes.

 

I’m a grown woman, damn it.

 

“I have a gift,” I said then, chin held high, as I paraphrased the kind of thing Jennifer Love Hewitt’s character on Ghost Whisperer would say.

 

“I can see and communicate with spirits more easily than the average person. I think anyone has the ability to see a ghost if the ghost puts enough effort into it, but I can see them with them putting forth less effort than what somebody else requires. I saw Inuyasha as a solid man last night when my friends only saw him as a human shaped mist, when he appeared before me in order to block the broken glass Kikyou threw at my face. I saw him again this morning at school, and I can both feel his touch and hear his voice as clearly as if he were a real person, too. I-”

 

“Enough!” our mother exploded.

 

I think for her it’d become more about the principle of the thing, rather than her being that against the notion of ghosts in and of itself. It wasn’t about that. It was about Souta and I defying her, continuing to argue when she’d told us both to shut up.

 

“You just don’t know when you quit, do you?” she continued, approaching my side of the bed.

 

She opened her mouth to say something else, but the ceiling fan light flickered again in that moment, and it gave her pause as she glanced up at the light for a brief moment with a furrowed brow. It wasn’t enough to curb her ire, though.

 

“Why must you push my buttons?” she asked demandingly. “And now you’ve gone and filled Souta’s head with your stories, your lies.”

 

I could be just as stubborn as her, when the moment called for it.

 

“You have so much pent-up anger,” I said then, in my best ‘therapist’ voice. “Does this negative association with ghosts stem from your own childhood?” I asked, genuinely wondering if I was right. “Did you see a ghost as a child, too, and you were so deeply scolded for it that now it’s stuck with you, and you’re repeating the cycle, punishing me as you were punished?”

 

Eyes flashing, she raised her hand to slap me across the face. She’d only hit me maybe twice before in my entire life, but even so I’d known going in that it was possible I’d push her that far again. Regardless, it’d needed to be said.

 

Eyes slamming shut as I winced in anticipation, the only thing I’d had time to do, I braced for impact the best I could in that split second, but the blow never came.

 

Instead, there was a loud crash, followed immediately by the sound of both her and Souta’s startled intakes of air, and my eyes popped back open again only to widen even further as I realized another one of Souta’s boardgames had slid off the shelf, this one handled less carefully, as the scattered playing pieces made a mess all over the floor.

 

Peering down at the spilled game on the floor, I then glanced back up at our mother, expecting to see her eyes still staring in shock at the game as well, but instead, she was looking at the Ouija board, and I quickly sat back upright to look down at the board on the bed beside me. The planchette was spinning. Neither Souta nor I had touched, but it was spinning in a perfect circle, in the center of the board, as if it were a bottle we were playing ‘spin the bottle’ with.

 

I didn’t think to count, but it had to have spun for at least a good five-six seconds, making a loud scraping sound as it moved so fast it appeared blurry, and then suddenly, instantly, it stopped, pointing at me.

 

The light flickered again, going all the way off and plunging us into total darkness for a brief second before coming back on.

 

Then static started coming from the speakers on Souta’s iHome, and we all watched, all slack-jawed and silent, as the iPod’s screen lit up, the song list scrolling until coming to a stop on ‘Came Back Haunted’ by Nine Inch Nails.

 

I looked our mom’s way as the song began playing, and I think the simple fact that Souta’s iPod had started playing any song all by itself was enough to make her actually need real therapy, based on the expression on her face. Once the lyrics dawned on her, which I could tell by the widening of her eyes, I had to suppress my desire to laugh outright.

 

Inuyasha had a wickedly awesome sense of humor.

 

And was also apparently up to speed on 21st century technology.

 

I didn’t want our poor mother to have a total nervous breakdown, though, and so after the first chorus started and it played the actual line ‘I came back haunted’ I knew we’d made our point. “Okay, that’s enough, thank you,” I said softly, in a grateful tone, as I got up and turned it off.

 

Turning to face our mother, then, my back to Souta’s dresser, I offered her an apologetic smile, deciding to wave the white flag first.

 

“I didn’t mean to upset you, Mom,” I began, explaining, “I just have to stand up for what I believe in, and I believe in what I’ve seen and heard with my own eyes and ears.”

 

She still looked marginally shell-shocked, but blinking in that moment, she shook her head a little bit, and then focused her eyes on me a bit better, our gazes meeting.

 

“It...it really is true...” she said in wonder.

 

I was so relieved she hadn’t remained in denial, accusing either Souta or I of rigging everything somehow. Even for our logical, rational mother, seeing was believing.

 

Glancing down at the Ouija board as if it were a direct representation of Inuyasha, figuring in that moment that it was the best thing I had to work with, I said to the board, “Inuyasha, meet my mother.” Glancing back up at my mother, I said, “Mom, meet Inuyasha.”

 

“He-hello...” she said shakily, glancing down at the board as well.

 

Without Souta’s assistance, the planchette started moving again all by itself, turning until it pointed at the word ‘hello’ written on the board.

 

Souta merely smiled triumphantly, clearly pleased with all that’d transpired in the last few minutes.

 

Our mother noticeably swallowed, and then turning my way, she pulled me into an unexpected embrace.

 

“I owe you an apology, honey,” she murmured quietly, and I hugged her back, my eyes tearing up again.

 

The three of us stayed up in Souta’s room talking for around two hours before finally going to bed, with no more noticeable signs from Inuyasha although I was sure he hadn’t actually left. He’d probably just been able to tell that it was a family moment he shouldn’t interrupt. I knew he and I were supposed to have been the ones staying up to discuss his and Kikyou’s background and the details surrounding their deaths, but this conversation with my mother and brother had simply been more important to me. My mom was opening up, wanting to let me share, willing to listen to what I had to say about it all, and I couldn’t spoil the moment by telling her I didn’t have the time to talk about it that night.

 

So we talked. We talked in more depth about what all I’d seen back when I was a little kid, as well as what I’d seen the night before and that very morning, and even what Eri and I had discussed about my apparent gift.

 

Our mother had agreed, now that she’d been faced with the evidence, that it must be true, I did have a gift, and she apologized again for having doubted me as a child. She didn’t tell us why she’d previously been so adamantly against the idea of ghosts, but whatever might or might not have happened during her own childhood, those were her ghosts, and she needed to deal with them on her own terms. Rule number one of being a therapist was that you couldn’t make somebody talk about what they didn’t want to talk about. You had to allow them to share what they felt comfortable sharing, trying to encourage them to feel more comfortable about it but without being too forceful. She’d tell me when she was ready.

 

Of course, I knew that that rule also applied to Kikyou, and that I’d have to find a way to encourage her to speak with me because I couldn’t force her to talk about what she didn’t want to talk about, either, but one break through at a time. In the meantime, as we finally said our goodnights and went our separate ways, Mom returning to her own room while I did the same, I’d been super stoked that that wall between us had finally been torn down, and that I wouldn’t have to start pretending in her presence that I didn’t have the newfound gift I’d discovered I’d had all alone.

 

And I owed it all to Inuyasha.

 

“I thought I was supposed to be helping you, not the other way around,” I said quietly as I got under my blankets. “Thank you. I owe you big time.”

 

After I stopped fiddling, getting settled, I felt the unmistakable sensation of a gentle pat on my right shoulder, as if from somebody standing over me at my bedside.

 

“Thank you, ” I heard whispered in my right ear, and I couldn’t stop the stupid smile that spread across my face.

 

The smile remained on my lips as I leaned over and clicked off my bedside lamp, and with nothing else paranormal happening I drifted off into a peaceful sleep.