InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Red Tears ❯ "How can they fix me if I am not broken?" ( Chapter 7 )

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

Sesshoumaru’s slight snores filled the room, and Kagome giggled slightly to herself. She turned the page to the book again, to the first page of the ‘journal entries,’ and this time, a small note fell out of the wrinkled, well used pages.

Kagome, this journal is something that I used from the first day I came here, up until today. I’m glad that I gave it to you, someone that I can actually trust, and I know that you will keep it and maybe learn a few things from it. Those first few days that I was here, I was angry. I didn’t think that anyone would ever understand me, that they were just pretending to know what it was like. But I realized something. I’m not alone. I’m not the only one in the world who’s ever harmed myself. And I want you to realize that too. Everyone here is in here for a reason, not just for vacation, and almost none are here because they want to be. Kagome, I know that you think that no one will understand why you did what you did, but you are wrong. I understand. Sesshoumaru probably understands. Kagome, we did those things to ourselves as well. We know what it’s like. Please read this, and learn from it. Maybe my feelings were like your own. Maybe this will help us understand each other better. And maybe one day, you’ll let me read that journal that you keep.

Kagome’s vision was beginning to get blurry; her eyes were filling with tears, yet again. She had never cried this much, no even when Buoyou had died. (A/N: sorry if I spelled the name wrong, spelling names was never one of my specialties.) It almost felt good to cry, as if a weight were being lifted from her shoulders. Finally, someone understood her! She looked down and began to read.

It’s funny that people think that they can understand me. They will never be able to. They think that they can send me here for a few days, weeks, maybe years, and change me completely. Make my life more useful; make me feel like I’m worth something. But they’re wrong. How can something like this be changed so quickly? To be cut off from one of your addictions like that, just that fast. They do not understand what they are doing to me. They do not understand ME. I need this. I need to be able to do something to take the pain away. They tell me to cry. How can I cry, when it has been so long since I have cried last? I do not even think that I have tear ducts anymore. I don’t even remember the last time I cried. I think maybe it was when I was ten, and one of the girls in my class called me fat. I don’t even know if she meant it. But I cried. It is as if my emotions have left me, and now all I feel is anger, pain and resentment. How can they do this to me? WHY are they doing this to me? It won’t help me; it won’t make me feel anything, any better. So how do they think that they are going to fix me? I do not even think that I am broken.

I think that maybe things will change. My roommate, Miroku, has wandering hands, and an excellent sense of humor. I think I am with the right person. He understands me, my feelings of anger, why I did what I did. And I understand him. He was deprived as a child. His mother died when he was but a babe, and his father had left well before then. But he has a strong will, enough courage to fill three grown men, and such wisdom. He can listen to you forever as you ramble, and never speak a word. And yet you know that he understands you. He can sit in silence for the longest time; it makes you wonder if he is even there, even though he is right in front of you. And yet sometimes, his pervertedness gets the best of him; his hands wander too far down while he hugs you; he ‘accidentally’ rubs your chest as he reaches for something. I have to pretend that I am offended. And yet, to think that someone could be attracted to you, even after you did such vile things to yourself…it makes me feel so…I do not even know how to describe my feelings. I think that maybe I love him.

Love…such a simple word. And yet, to never be told that you are loved, to always think that you are hated, despised, sometimes wish that you were never born. It is such a wonderful word. Oh, the joy it fills me with when I think about it. And wistfulness, as well. How I wish that I were loved. It is not such a dirty thing, such a hard thing to ask for, just to be loved, and yet it seems so impossible. Who could ever love me? I even detest myself, why shouldn’t others? And yet, Miroku…he is different. He makes me feel so special. And yes, loved. I only wish that I could return the favor, but how? Revert to perverted ways? ‘Accidentally’ rub against his privates when I reach for something? I think not! But that thought sets me aflame. I wonder what his reaction would be if I did such a thing. What thoughts would it put into that brain of his? What would he do?

Today, a new girl has moved into the ‘home’. Her name is Kagome. I do not know what to think of her. We haven’t met yet, though she is in the room right beside mine, her bed right beside mine, with only a wall separating them. It is funny, when you think of how close two beings can be to one another, and yet not even know them. It’s as if I’m in school once again, except this time, I am not the one being shunned, but I am the one that is doing the shunning. But I am not shunning her. We just haven’t met yet. But I feel as if something is wrong with that, as if we were destined to meet. Tomorrow, I will drag Miroku over to her room to meet her, speak with her, and get to know her. I do not want her to feel as if she is being shunned.

I have met the girl. I do not know if I like her. I feel as if I cannot trust her, but I know that she has been through pain that I cannot even imagine. Her arms…oh, if only you could see her arms. How horrid they look. Such damage. How could she have done that to herself? Who could feel so worthless, so unloved, that they could do something as bad as that to themselves? And I think that I must sound stupid. For, once, I am sure, my arms looked like that. Maybe not as bad. But once, I was harmed like that. But to see that someone else had done it, and to such an extent. She must be such a tortured soul. I wonder what has caused her to do this to herself, but I know that I shouldn’t nose around. I am curious though. Why? That is the only question that comes to mind. Why?

Sango’s entries stopped there. They weren’t even dated, just separated by large spaces between them. It looked as if a few pages had been ripped out, but Kagome knew that there were some things that people would rather keep secret, and she didn’t want to prod. But the thought of Sango being in love with Miroku…that almost made her giggle. It made her feel so light-hearted. Someone could be loved after they had done such a thing. And now, Kagome was sure that she might be able to find love.

With that thought in mind, Kagome drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.

***

Sesshoumaru awoke to silence. The room was still dark, and he could hear Kagome’s leveled breathing. She was still asleep. He wondered what the journal that Sango had given to Kagome said. He was sure that Sango had given it to Kagome to let her know that she understood, but what did it say? Thoughts filled Sesshoumaru’s head, of what girls might talk about, what they might write about in their journals. Crushes? Maybe for most girls. But Sango and Kagome were different. For most girls, Sesshoumaru could tell what they were thinking, but for Sango and Kagome? No. They were smart; they knew what they were doing when they did something. They didn’t do it for the attention, far from it; they went out of their way to hide it. When Sesshoumaru had first started cutting, many of the dim-witted girls that clung to him relentlessly started doing it as well, so that he might accept them, acknowledge them. But these girls…they didn’t do it so they could fit in. Given, they did it because they didn’t fit in, but still they wanted no attention for their actions.

His reasons were different completely. After many attempts of suicide, without success, he had resorted to this. It was petty, compared to ending a life, and the results in the long run were mere scars, but the pain…pain was something that Sesshoumaru loved to inflict. It was hard to explain. Once, he had inflicted pain to others, breaking up with girls who’s eyes sparkled when they were set upon him, after dating them for months on end. And that was the reason he dated them. To, in the end, inflict pain upon them.

To see someone cry…it just made his day. But he began to crave more pain. More pain than he could inflict upon another. So he began to inflict it upon himself. And the feeling…It was overpowering. He could control this one thing in his life, when everything else seemed to be in disarray, he could control the pain he inflicted; the amount, the result. He almost fell in love with the power he held…over himself. In a sadistic way, it was funny. Almost to the point of hilarious.

Before he could stop himself, Sesshoumaru let out a loud laugh, deep and menacing. Kagome remained sleeping, but she stirred slightly, and in her sleep-filled haze, she mumbled one word, one name, that set Sesshoumaru on edge, made his heart clench, his blood boil. His own.

“Sesshoumaru…”

Yes, I could have made it longer. But what’s the point in that? I love cliffies! And now, you love me, because I love cliffies, and you would never do anything to harm me, for fear of me not finishing this, for fear of forever being stuck with this cliffy! MWAHAHAHAHA!!! Be afraid!!! Be very afraid!!!

Actually, I’ll probably update tomorrow, so you can just be mad at me for leaving you in this very uncomfortable position for now…sorry…

Oh, and to answer a review that I got recently, this is going to be a Kagome/Sesshoumaru, Inuyasha/Kikyo, Sango/Miroku fic.

FEAR NOT! I SHALL CONTINUE AGAIN SOON, AND YOU WILL SEE THE WONDERFULLNESS THAT IS ME RISE TO MY PEAK AND BE LOVED BY ALL BECAUSE OF MY CREATIVITYNESS!!! Hehe…

Sorry, I’m a little strung on sugar…I should be over it soon…but it’s sort of late/earlyish, so I’m like…hyperish…