InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Falling Stars ❯ Fate and Logic ( Chapter 1 )

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

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha. But I'm really worried because he was in a dream I had the other night. That can't be healthy. -_-

A/N: 1 Review!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So thank you to my 1 reviewer. Apparently no one else likes my story. Therefore, this chapter is dedicated to dbzgurl_34.

Japanese terms:

Arigatou: thank you

Otokosu: a geisha's dresser

Okiya: boarding house for geisha (provides food and shelter and usually keeps the majority of the money that geisha make)

Ochaya: tea houses where geisha entertain

Geiko: another term for geisha (this is what the Kyoto geisha call themselves)

Maiko: apprentice geisha

Kanzashi: hair pins/decoration that geisha wear

Okobu: tall platform sandals

Musume-bun: younger `sister' of a geisha (obviously not their `real' sister, but an apprentice who is observing the older geisha)

San san kudo: ceremony where a geisha and apprentice become `sisters'

Danna: basically is a sponsor to a specific geisha (this man is the only man a geisha is allowed to have sex with and in return he pays for her clothes and sometimes an apartment or other things)

Shikomi: maid of the okiya (most geisha start out as shikomi before they become geisha)

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Falling stars -

01.Fate and Logic

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Love was an empty word to Kagome. Something that had once been as rich as the sweet chocolate exported from Europe had become a hollow shell. The word came coated with bitter memories and a repugnant smell. She went as far as to ink the word out from her diary on every occasion she had tried to use it. And apparently, she learned; she had once been in love with everything. She loved her old town, her family, her mother's necklace, and the neighbor's dog.

Her childhood had been filled with `love', `happiness', and `pleasant things'. Her late mother and older sister had tried their hardest to engrave these things on her soul through their good intentions. The older she got, however, the more ghostly and horrendous the word became until she made a silent vow never to let it leave her tongue again.

It was a simple enough plan at first. She made the decision as she stared at her pale reflection in the dark oak vanity of her bedroom one night before leaving for an appointment. She had been studying her face in the mirror and became utterly fascinated by her ghostly white skin and blood-red lips. She looked either like glass or dead. She had a hard time deciding which was the better option. On one hand, she could spend the rest of her life as a walking, breathing, talking novelty. Or the alternative, she was dead and would be immune to all emotional torture.

Her choices, she decided, were not good. But, with a deep breath and a long sip of sake she could twist her life into a wonderful fortune. She could turn her world into a fairy tale and wake up every morning in a dream. Her life was much happier if she saw it as an act of fate. The only injustice was that she had yet to find the destiny that her fate was to lead her to. Her journey was just beginning and all the necessary precautions had to be made. This is how she decided love was a four letter word.

After years of schooling she saw two things: logic and fate. Logic told her that love was cruel. Her years growing up had taught her that people did not love. They merely acted out of responsibility and honor. Everyone owed everyone something else. Love, therefore, was irrational. Fate, on the other hand, taught the same lesson in a completely opposing way. Fate told her that her opinion did not matter. All that mattered was her horoscope and an old fortune teller with yellow skin and brown teeth. Love, therefore, was not in the set of cards that fate had dealt her. It was as simple as that.

As she stood in front of that special mirror, she observed that she was a far cry from the wiry little girl who was sold to an okiya from an old farming community ten years before. The little girl she once was had been masked by layers of oil and wax and now lay dormant below the emotionless white paste that coated her features. Her entire life had been twisted in much the same matter. She decided it was best that she forget her old self and remain her new self.

Any nervousness, doubt, or sorrow she experienced was hidden. Layers of heavy pink silk that encased her body like a tomb concealed small tremors and nervous twitches in her body. She tightly clenched her jaw and her lips pressed together tightly as though she a child refusing food at dinner. She mentally repeated her new vow to herself as she watched her otokosu's violet eyes dart over her shoulder in what she came to accept as fate's first true test of her strength.

She would have to ignore the way his dark hair shimmered faintly in the poorly lit room as bars of golden light reflected off the obi that he secured around her waist in an elaborate bow. She fought back the urge to turn to him and speak about her wishes and desires as he hummed an upbeat tune and allowed his big eyes to ruthlessly evaluate her taut expression while she continued to stare at her reflection in silence. His bright eyes held true concern but she muttered a barely audible "pervert" in response to his wandering gaze.

Though her faint words were meant a subtle warning, she felt no remorse for saying them. Her darling otokosu was young and if rumors ever proved true, quite promiscuous. She considered him attractive. He was young even though quite a few years older than she was. His skin was smooth and clear and his hair was a rich black that he kept tied in a small ponytail. On top of that, he had gorgeous eyes.

All in all, he was typically an uplifting man who tried his hardest to befriend the all the geiko he could although their arrogance usually left him with a bruised cheek. Kagome had been the kindest by far though he was the first to note small acrid changes in her ever since she went through her san san kudo. Her debut as a new maiko had gone smoothly but for some reason she had been severely moody ever since. He felt sorrowful that he had spent the years watching the fire in her eyes fade and die into a cold, cloudy gray.

The young man studied her face as her features drew in sharply and her lips pressed even closer together causing her crimson lipstick to smudge slightly at the corner of her mouth. The young man frowned and seldom seen stress-caused creases formed around his brows. He ached for the part of the beautiful girl before him that seemed somehow broken. Though he was unsure as to why, he always felt she was somehow different from the other geiko. When she had come to the okiya so many years before, she radiated an aura filled with compassion and benevolence. Her often temperamental attitude seemed to clash with her overbearing kindness. It was obvious that something had gone extremely awry in her childhood had torn apart who she truly was.

"Kagome-sama, you needn't be so formal in front of me." He said, hoping to clear the air although he felt she was already too gone in her own universe to pay him any heed.

Just as expected, she whipped her head around at him and snapped, "Do not call me by that name!"

The man was taken back for a moment. He put his hands by his head in defense and gave a small bow in apology. "Gomen. It is Fuyuko-sama then."

She turned back around and her frown lost its severity, though her muscles remained tense. "Thank you, Miroku-sama." She gave her attention back to the mirror and allowed him to continue tying her obi. She stood stiffly as he tugged on her kimono, trying to smooth out the creases. She glared at her reflection while he made the final touches. Her transformation into the beautiful butterfly was almost done and her heart was growing colder by the second. Her light eyes were becoming still and hard as she looked into the mirror as though it was her doom. She watched her face change and felt proud that she had honed the transformation to an art form. After a few moments Miroku stepped back to signify he was finished.

She studied herself in the mirror, tilting her head from one side to the other, watching her golden kanzashi glitter in the lamplight. The kimono she donned was bright pink with gold stitching along the bottom hem in the shape of a tree branch spotted with tiny shimmering flowers. The long sleeves hung to her ankles and were each decorated with two gold and white birds that flew up a stream of gold flowers to her arms. It was indeed a beautiful furisode kimono. It was the complete antithesis of anything she had ever considered wearing when she lived on a shrine. Her splotchy past seemed to haunt her most when she saw what she had become in its entirety. The expensive clothes, rich food, and opulent company seemed to be a basket of sin. It shamed her past life.

Reminding herself of her vow, she turned to Miroku and gave him a flat look. She had considered him something a friend for quite some time and her feelings for him seemed to be irritatingly close to a familial toleration. For him to be the brother she never had definitely cut the corners of her delicate life too sharply. Even though he was the only member of the okiya who had been instantly friendly to her when she arrived as a poor little girl, she would not allow her emotions to dominate her career. If she did, she would never become a successful geiko and would inevitably be tossed aside and in the best scenerio be granted a job as a permanent maid. If she did fail, however, she would most likely be kicked to the street. Both were utterly shameful.

As she watched a look close to pain pass through Miroku's usually amiable eyes she remembered the many nights she had spent wondering how she was supposed to treat him once she became a full fledged geiko. She had arrived at no easy answers. She was no longer one of the shikomi who worked at his side as an equal. She was now the geiko Fuyumi's musume-bun and would become a full fledged geiko herself before long. Her long title did not involve a mischievous older brother who would make lewd comments during their conversations just for jest. Fate and logic both decided for her that she was no longer part of Miroku's world. Though it twisted her heart, she knew she was expected to give up such foolish personal relationships. Her horoscopes led her life and she lived to please the okiya's okaasan. Love was, after all, that feeling she was forced to bury beneath the heavy makeup along with all of her distant and often sour memories.

With a quick nod she assured herself that her rejection of love was the most natural and beneficial decision she had ever made. Her new life was much better than her old. Never again would she be forced to endure betrayal or pain like she had in her past. Never again would she have to deal with disappointments or shortcomings. If her fish at dinner were not the biggest, she would not have to feel envious or hurt. Life would become much sweeter without the harsh taste of love. Her new life was glamorous and wonderful. It was what little girls dreamed of. Well, besides those dreams about getting married and children. But, who needed those dreams? Kagome was determined to be happy with the life she had been given. She had everything she could ever need.

She could not stop the slow smile that spread across her features. It was barely visible through her strategically applied lipstick, but Miroku caught it nonetheless. As he looked into her cold eyes, he felt as though he had been stabbed in the heart. She was smiling but no warmth radiated from her soul. It was the most disturbing and pitiful thing he had ever witnessed. He realized if she did not get out of the okiya soon, her kind soul would be lost forever. His mind immediately started running through any possible escape options in hope that one practical enough for reality would surface.

Remaining lost in his own thoughts, he nodded faintly and bowed his head. Satisfied with his response, she nodded her head in reply and briskly slid through the door, into the corridor. She emerged from the room like an angel but her eyes were lost and confused. Those delicate inconsistencies of her true feelings were still present just below the surface of so many false pretenses. Though her heart was not yet won by the materialistic state of being she welcomed herself into, the kindness in her heart was slowly fading away.

She walked from the dark room without a word. The sad look Miroku had given her as she smiled remained engraved in her line of vision. Though she tried, she could not ignore the unsaid words that spoke from his solemn expression. She blinked her eyes rapidly to hold off the tears that threatened to fall. A single tear would completely ruin her makeup and the application of it had been much too painstakingly difficult to do over. As she walked down the stairs, she counted silently to herself and concentrated on the sound of her feet as she lightly stepped on the wood panels. She used the steady sound to lull out the sorrow that filled her head. She fisted her hand to ignore the bubbling guilt building in her stomach and forced her facial muscles to relax by parting her lips slightly. As she reached the front door she saw her `oneesan' waiting for her, sharing the same blank expression.

Her geiko oneesan, Fuyumi, was one of the most beautiful women Kagome had ever seen. With her hair and makeup prepared, she looked just like one of the porcelain dolls Kagome had seen at the market when she was a child. Her face was perfect and her body was ideal. As a geiko, she was one of the most successful in all of Kyoto. To say Kagome was fortunate to have her as an older oneesan was a severe understatement. She alone brought in more money than three of the local okiyas combined. In addition to her beauty, she was unsurpassed in dance. Her body moved so gracefully that a foreign man, who had the honor of enjoying her company one night, wrote a famous poem about her dance. She was almost as perfect as Kagome had once seen her real sister, Kikyou.

Kagome averted her eyes as she remembered Kikyou. She took a deep breath and tried to keep her face from tensing too much from the memory. She had long before decided not to think about Kikyou, but it seemed to be getting harder every day. Those memories of love and dedication were tossed to the side and the true older sister was nothing more than a piece of an abandoned past. As she followed Fuyumi out the door, she forced her memories behind her.

As the two women made their way to the ochaya, Kagome struggled to remain balanced on her tall okobu. Her neck was sore from the weight of her monoware hairstyle and her ankles ached from the balancing act. The elaborate hair pins in her hair jingled against one another as she hurried to keep up with Fuyumi who walked with an unreal grace. She appeared to float down the street as her feet barely moved below her restricting kimono.

Various men on the street watched them pass by with utmost fascination and Kagome felt her insides twist. After years of bruised self-esteem, she was officially a symbolic sex object. One side of her heart felt ashamed that her thoughts had been reduced to such a twisted reality. The other side, however, basked in the sliver of appreciation and affection that was thrown her way. She had spent so many nights crying herself to sleep that her old values had been washed off the surface of her skin.

Thunder faintly rumbled in the distance as they neared the ochaya. The two women looked up to the sky in concern but said nothing aloud. Kagome heightened her pace to keep up with Fuyumi who was just short of a run. The bottoms of Kagome's okobu pattered against the firm ground and she felt her skin grow warm as Fuyumi shot her a dirty look for making so much noise. Once they finally reached the ochaya, Kagome was already exhausted. In her mere week of appointments, she had not yet grown accustomed to the frantic schedule. As the house's mistress led them through the corridor, Kagome tried to even out her breathing. Her breaths were much too shallow and loud to entertain.

When they finally arrived at the room, Kagome lowered her eyes only catching a glimpse of the deep blue military uniforms donned by the men surrounding the table. She heard Fuyumi introduce her but she felt as though she were in another world. Kagome's geiko name, `Fuyuko', kept repeating in her head after Fuyumi introduced her to the crowded ochaya. Kagome thought it was an ugly name. When spoken aloud it sounded as though the speaker's mouth was filled with cotton. It made Kagome thirsty.

As she eyed her sake longingly, Kagome barely registered the voices around her as the men started to chat enthusiastically with Fuyumi. When she suddenly heard a soft murmur `kikyou' her eyes shot up like firecrackers and the rest of the world became silent. After a confusing moment her gray eyes met another pair of eyes across the table.

She gasped quietly. She had not noticed the new guest enter and she felt embarrassed and ashamed. "Kouga-kun." She said with a small bow.

He merely smirked as he situated himself opposite her. The two had met at Kagome's debut and at the time, Kouga had been less than enthused by the geiko entertainment. Kagome took it upon herself to talk to him and he gradually became comfortable. After that night, he took an instant liking to Kagome. She enjoyed his company as well even though he was often crude. He thought lowly of the geiko and often made a big show of badmouthing them. Kagome was his only exception. He said there was something `special' in her eyes. Though she had no idea what he meant by it, she felt greatly flattered.

In fact, he was the prime candidate to become Kagome's danna. She did not mind it too much. Although her past life rebelled against such injustices that would force a woman into a loveless relationship built on money, her present life agreed he was a good choice. He was a good companion and even extremely attractive in his own way. Kagome often thought he was exotic looking with his dark skin and deep blue eyes. His long black hair made him look rustic and he was much younger than most dannas would be. His money came from a group he fought with in the revolution who had become integrated into the Japanese government. He was young but he was still powerful. Kagome was hopeful that he would want to take her as his own. She didn't want to have to settle for the crinkly old man that Fuyumi did.

She watched his face with something of fascination. If Kouga did become her danna, he would be the only person she could safely consider a friend. It would be nice to have someone to talk to every once in a while. She smiled shyly and motioned toward the folded purple and white paper held in his hands. He was cradling it as though it was valuable and Kagome's curiosity grew. His smile broadened and he opened his hand revealing a purple and white origami flower. Her eyes followed the small flower as he dropped in on the table and stared at it as though he was ashamed he had ever held it.

Pulling herself from her trance, Kagome put on a small smile and moved her hand across the table to lift the flower. She allowed her kimono sleeve to show a degree of bare skin as she reached over her sake to take the flower. She lifted it delicately and inspected it from all angles, trying to decipher some hidden meaning in the tiny gift.

"It's for you." He stated smugly. "I remember you told me a story about that flower the first time we met. I thought you might want to keep it."

Kagome looked up, somewhat alarmed. She glanced back at the paper flower in her palm and wondered if he was implying what she suspected. She could not imagine it was so since she never told anyone about that part of her life. Perhaps, she decided, she had been drunk. That might have explained it. "Arigatou." She said softly and gave him a tense smile.

The rest of the party ran smoothly and Kagome amused herself talking with Kouga. Every once in a while he would turn to the other men and brag about some major feat he had overcome in the past through sheer strength alone. Though Kagome was not truly interested in their war stories she would smile and give her full attention. By the time her and Fuyumi left, she was about to pass out.

Shortly after they left, however, rain started to pour. They ran under a covering of a nearby building but the wind picked up and both girls were soaked within minutes. Kagome groaned and tried to ignore Fuyumi's ranting. The kimonos were ruined. Their hair was ruined. Fuyumi seem convinced that her entire life was ruined.

Minutes passed and water started to rise at their feet. The lightening grew worse and Kagome began to get nervous not because her clothes, hair, and night were ruined, but because a sense of dread was growing stronger deep inside her. She glanced around anxiously, wishing she knew what was making her so nervous. Before she could react a sudden crash resounded in her ears.

The next few minutes were a blur. She heard Fuyumi scream and felt something knock her to the ground. As she fell, her skin bruised against the hard ground and water saturated her sleeves. She bit her lip somewhere in the process and she felt blood gushing into her mouth. Half of her face lay submerged in the water flowing down the street.

She was not aware of how long she lay in the street amidst the collapsed awning. When she came to, she coughed and spit a mixture of water and blood from her mouth. She stumbled to her feet and searched franticly for Fuyumi. She saw her nowhere in sight.

Across the street she spotted a small one room house. She ran the possibilities through in her head. It could be possible serial murderer lived there and was just waiting for an innocent little girl to come wondering through his doors so he could rape and murder her. Or perhaps it was a stock house holding pigs and cows. She would be forced to go back to the okiya smelling like a farmhouse.

She scrunched her nose up in disgust. When another gust of wind nearly knocked her from her feet, however, she darted toward her target.

Once she reached it, she fumbled with the door and sighed with relief when it flew open. She rushed in and pulled the door securely shut as she backed in. She leaned her forehead on the door and thanked the gods that she had made it all right. Her prayer was cut short when a harsh voice behind her sent a chill up her spine.

"Gods, Kikyou. You're a mess."

She whipped around, pushing her back into the wooden door. "What did you say?!" she screeched while her hands tried to find the latch to the door.

"What the hell you come in here looking like that for? It thought you were living the good life."

Kagome froze. In an instant, she knew who it was. Though she had only met him once, she remembered his eyes. Those clear blue eyes. "Inu… ka…" she muttered, in disbelief.

"Keh. You act surprised to see me. Why don't you go back on the street where you belong." He said in a sharp but slightly slurred voice. "You're getting the floor wet, Kikyou. Go back home."

"Excuse me?!" Kagome exclaimed in shock and anger. "Who are you to… and I'm not even Kikyou!"

"What are you talking about, Kikyou? Did you finally lose it?" he asked with a small chuckle behind his words.

Kagome was about the retort when she suddenly smelled the strong scent of sake in the air. He was drunk. That explained it. She sighed dramatically and put her head in her hands. As she heard the rain coming to a stop outside, logic told her to turn her back and leave him. He was a babbling drunk and the sooner she returned to the okiya, the less trouble she would be in. It was absurd that she ran into someone from that deep in her past. It was surely a test, she decided. The gods were testing her resolve. She had to leave him behind just as she left everything else from that awkward year behind.

She was about to turn around and leave when she felt something fall to the floor near her feet. She glanced down and saw the origami flower Kouga had given her. She had not even realized she had been holding it all that time.

She bent slowly and lifted it from the ground. She cradled it in her hand and poked at it, though it was soaked through. The dye from the paper was trailing a line of faint purple along her palm and the petals wilted into one massive clump.

She looked up from the flower at the man sitting on the other side of the room. Fate definitely had other plans, but which would she choose?

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A/N: please please please please review! The more reviews I get the faster I'll update!

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