InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Save Our Souls ❯ Chapter one ( Chapter 1 )

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

[AU]Kagome doesn�t need to be saved. She needs to be found. But She�s fooled one too many times, and now she�ll do anything to protect herself. But will mistrust be her own downfall? [plotchange]

Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Romance | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 08.04.2006 | Pages: 4 | Words: 6.0K | Visits: 395 | Status: Completed

Save Our Souls

Chapter 1

Fine then. Just fucking fine. I don't care anyways. I don't need anybody. I don't need anything from anyone. My long skirt billows with the wailing wind.

Then why this pain inside?

I push it away.

A hand comes over my face, brushing the fatigue away.

Bloody family. Bloody life. Bloody, hellish world.

Another sigh. Another step. The cold bites into me, ruthless. Just like everything else. It distracts me from my sardonic thoughts like dozing feelings, sleeping in and out of physical and emotional pain.

Really, what did I ever do? I've tried so hard. So freaking hard. But everything seems to be made of mistakes and sins placed on my shoulders when they are not mine to bare. All my life faced with harsh truths and blunt answers. No security, no comfort. No love. Everything is nothing where I live.

And now I walk down the street, at god knows what time. I don't have a watch, don't have money to spare on it, and no one who will buy it for me, but it doesn't make much difference, it's not like I would be in time for anything anyways.

A sigh blooms before me in lost vapour, a cloud of warmth in a cold world. Me lost in a land of fake smiles. What a day. What. A. Day.

Miracle of miracles, I convinced mother to attend the parents meeting. Well, more like the school called home and asked her personally, since she hadn't attended one in her life, and this one was specially important. She had grudgingly accepted, and then shouted at me for half an hour for being such a stupid girl.

Same old same old.

Everything was fine throughout the school talk. A shining, plastic smile on her face.

The perfect, busy mother. Oh woe is her. I snort as I walk briskly, the streets deserted, deprived from the life the day provides.

She cares, and I'm Merry Poppins.

The wind interrupts my sarcastic monologue as it starts to snow.

Fuck it's so cold!

I clench my jaw, wrapping into myself, but that makes the trembling worse, and my teeth chatter. I should have brought a jacket, but I wasn't expecting having to walk home. A sadistic grin formes humourlessly on my face.

We had been driving home in our usual cold silence when my mother had broken it, eyes still on the icy road.

“I hear you like art.” She says, and I'm quietly startled. Don't tell me she's interested!

“Ms. Muchiwata says you have a `talent' for it.” She goes on, and I suppress a snort.

I only started taking extra free art classes at lunch when I was 10 mum, seven years ago…

“Yeah.” I grunt. Her eyes flicker to mine and I turn to look out the window of the car. Maybe this wasn't so bad after all. Maybe she will start to take part, maybe things will change between us. Maybe…

“Well then, if you can do well in art, why not in every other subject?” Her voice is harsh, sudden, and something shrivels up inside me as I call myself a fool.

Really Kagome, smarten up. Wake up. Things are never going to change!

I make no response.

“Really, you are so useless. What good is art in this world? It isn't!” She answered her own question scathingly. I frown, my face turned away from her, fists clenched. Mother is a `practical' woman. Demanding, and incredibly mentally abusing. She wants everything connected to her to be perfect- to be the way she expects them to. But I turned out the opposite of her. She loves being under stress and the boss of things. She likes having control and being in a schedule. Routine life. I, on the other hand, feed off freedom. Decision making, forming my own opinions.

Art…

I sigh, signalling that I don't want to hear more, but she isn't done.

“You could be good at maths, or science, or even English, but no, you have to be completely useless. Again. Honestly, what am I going to do with you? Haven't you stopped to think about someone else, say, your mother? And the bills we have to pay? What, you gonna sell your paintings?” She snorts, and the sound cuts through me like her words do, no matter how used to them I am.

“Fuck, Kagome! I give you all these opportunities and you throw it away with art? Not an A in any other subject! Useless! What do you have to say for yourself?” She demands. I continue to stare out the mist shielded window, but I'm not really taking in anything anyways. I stay quiet.

But suddenly the heel of a palm makes contact with the back of my head, making my forehead smack against the cold glass painfully. I wince, but school my expression before I turn around with a growl. She matches it in ferocity, mixed with a coldness I will never achieve. I will never sink as low as to look like my mother.

“Are you listening to me?” She screams, car severing slightly. I curse, grabbing the door. Bloody woman…

“Yes mother.” I say the world like an insult because, for her, it is. Her face pinches in distaste, chewing on the taste of the idea, and not liking it.

Fuck her. Fuck her and the world she has created around me. Was it so much to ask…?

Suddenly she pulls over, and if I didn't have my seatbelt on I would be a crack in the windshield. Well, she can always hope, can't she?

“Get out of the car.” She whispers, voice raging beneath the surface. I stare at her incredulously. We are miles from home! I have to spend 50 minutes in the bus every day to get to school, and we were in the car for about 10 minutes! I growl in distaste.

“Are you crazy? Can't you see th-”

“Get out you stupid child!” She hollers, and my face hardens.

Perfect mother, perfect daughter, perfect family of two, perfect life.

“Fine.” I spit out, the word sour in my mouth, leaving a hurtful aftertaste.

Fine. Just fine. I need no one.

The pain is still here.

I push it away.

The snow is stinging, attacking me with the freezing, dead fingers of winter, and the fragile snow flakes are agonisingly beautiful against such a dark, clouded night sky, flurrying down without wind to push or shove them, nonchalant, light, careless, the opposite of my heavy heart, lead covered with unwanted memories, dragging behind me like luggage, a trail of blood tracing my steps.

I enter the park, close to home now, but find my steps slowing, by soul sagging. Even though I feel unhealthily cold, know my lips are blue with frost, and can feel the cold slipping into my body to sleep on my bones, I don't want to go to my mother. Not yet. Not to have things thrown at. Not to be told every single day of my life that I was a mistake, that if it weren't for what people thought of her, she would have aborted. If it weren't for her status, I would be in a foster home or in a trench, rotting, for all she cared. She had never liked kids, not even babies. They were useless, incapable of earning money, just like the elderly. If it were for her, she would put them to sleep when they reached age to retire, they were only a waste of space. As for me…I had brought her down, had pulled her away from the working world she had lived in, and into motherhood, into a life she couldn't enjoy. And for that, even though it was in no way my fault, she hated me. Hated me for the freedom I had stolen, and she wanted revenge, to sweeten her bitterness. It didn't seem to be helping much, in my opinion. In my eyes, no one could be more of a bitch than my mother.

Hands stuffed in pockets, head bowed, body trembling, sniffling, running nose, slow paces despite the cold, I trudged on through the sludge of a life I so desperately wanted to escape. I looked up as a sudden gust of wind creaked the chains of a swing in a mourning call, and my steps halted, looking at the lonely children's park. I was freezing, shaking to produce warmth, goosebumps trailing my skin in raised hairs. My body told me no, but I didn't care much. I walked across what used to be grass, over a thin coat of new snow, and, wiping the dampness off the seat, sat myself on the swing, which creaked under the pressure and movement, and the swing sang be a lullaby as I rocked.

Back, and Forth. Back, and Forth. So calming. So serene.

The tips of my ears are screaming red irritation.

Back, Forth. Back, Forth. So heavy, so slow.

The tip of my nose feels like it was bit by an icicle.

Back, Forth. Back, Forth. Everything catches up to me. The day, the week. The month. This life.

The chain is freezing, if I move my fingers, they would probably fall off.

Back, Forth. Back, Forth. It's getting oddly hard to breath, memories rushing in.

If more snow slammed into my eyes, they would freeze in their sockets.

Back, Forth. Back, Forth. My cheeks sting. There is a wetness on them that does not come from the sky.

I could probably ice skate on my ass, it's so cold.

Back, Forth. Back, Forth. Sobs rip, cold trembles. I'm falling apart…

I stop. There is someone watching.

My head snaps up, and, just as I felt in the hairs on my neck, there is a shadow watching me, and aura brushing mine, the night and snow hiding his form, though I'm sure he is male by his shape. I wipe the tears from my eyes. Oh, much better. Maybe it wasn't the night or the storm at all.

Under the snow, his silver hair looks part of it, shining like the moonlight that wont show. His eyes are such a piercing gold, I can't look away once I meet them, no matter how much I try. I'm caught in his headlight, hypnotised, frozen. Dog ears perched on his head flick, raised towards me despite the snow and cold.

Yes, he is handsome, gorgeous, but that is not why I stare. I know those eyes, those ears, that pose, this man.

“Inu-yasha?” My voice is weaker than I intended, showing more emotion than I would allow if I were not caught by surprise. I don't cry in front of people. I hate to cry. But, sometimes, I need a release, even though it doesn't really help, like a drug, it deludes you, but calmness is a side effect I don't mind.

“Kagome?” He sounds surprised, but not as much as me. I mentally curse myself, and then halt, staring at him. My heart catches up with the knowledge that I am really staring at him. Racing, rushing.

He had moved a few years ago, a life time ago. He hadn't warned me, or said goodbye. It had hurt more than he was entitled to, and yet took less time to accept than it should have. He had taken with him a little bit of my danger-of-extinction hope. But now he was here. Inu-yasha…

I stand up from the swing abruptly, the motion protested by my stiff muscles, which cause me to almost buckle to the ground. How long had I been sitting there anyways? Crying? How pathetic he must think I am.

The thoughts forms, but triggers no real reaction. He's not worthy of one now.

He reaches out to catch me but I draw away from him, snatching the chain of the swing while my muscles defrost. Something flashes through his eyes and he draws his hand back.

I don't care.

My eyes hold his and his mine. When was the last time I saw him? After school like every other day, yet, looking back, that time, when I hugged him, he hugged me back just as hard. That day had changed everything for us. As we parted, he whispered that he would miss me, and I hadn't understood. Trapped in a world where he would never leave me. Not him. Not my Inu-yasha.

The one I loved.

Foolish and Pathetic, it had been. Puppy love. A crush.

And, oh, had I been crushed.

But I frown, pushing away the memories of the teacher telling us Inu-yasha had moved. That he was `no longer attending this school, and was resigned last minute, that they didn't know anything'. Well, fine.

I didn't need him. I didn't need anybody. Not anybody.

Then why so much pain?

I pushed it away.

“When did you come back?” I ask, and it almost sounds like an accusation. Please let him say today. Yesterday. This week. Tell me you cared enough to…

“A couple months ago.” Voice gruff, deeper than I remember, and there is something

squeezing so hard on my heart I think it'll break. Again.

I forgot him. I left him back for good.

“Oh.” I say. Oh, right.

He must have read something in my expression, I was never good at hiding things from him, not bruises or emotions, for he steps closer, so that I have to look p at him through the snow that is still falling, in a body still shaking, still in pain he kindled. I watch him. I'm weary. I'm scared.

I take a step back.

I've had enough. Of him, and everybody else. Of being played with, of being shown how worthless and unwanted I am, no matter how much I love the people that surround me. Why was I given this heart? What could I possibly achieve in a world so materialistically cold? Nothing. For that is what I am. But I didn't even know how to react. How did someone react to a sudden apparition act from someone they loved, oh so long ago.

“What do you want?” now I have myself under control. Voice cold, demanding. I clench my jaw, as for not to let teeth clatter, but my body is so tense, it's only making the shaking worse, yet I refuse to acknowledge it and deny putting my arms around myself. I will show no weakness. Not again.

He regards me, and I look defiantly at him. Now he'll say something stupid, and I'll go home. At the thought, my barriers flicker, but do not fall. Not home, not yet.

I'm so tired…

Inu-yasha smirks down at me, that same expression I had seen so many times, and something pulls at my heart strings, painfully in remembrance.

Why did you leave me…?

“What, no time for old friends?” He says, cocky voice mastered. I think about comebacks.

Friends, yes, you…

But I'm so exhausted, it's like someone is draining the life and will right out of me. A little needle under my skin, made out of broken promises and medium-cooked lies.

I feel like curling on the ground and let the cold claim me as theirs. Let the sky cover me in a blanket of snow, and let the wind pick my life and take it away.

But no, I will never stop fighting, if just not to give them the satisfaction. Not my mother, who only wishes that upon me, an excuse for me to leave without talk of her kicking me out. Show the people at school, so jealous of my perfect, disguised hell. I'm going to prove the teachers, the ones who really see me, but can't reach me, right. I can go on. I will not lose this battle people so comfortable, call life.

I take a deep breath, the air piercing my throat and nose with a freezing flame.

I haven't seen this boy-man- in about…three years. A bit more, probably. The problem was, I put so much faith in him, it hurt just doing it, and it killed when it was broken. And now here he stood. He didn't care. I knew, now, that he had never cared, just like everybody else.

Just like everybody else.

“What the fuck do you want, Inu-yasha?” I snap, intending to bite. He looks taken aback, but the expression melts quickly.

The snow still falls.

“Kagome, cursing? Surly things haven't changed as much?” He asks, and I wonder if he really knows what he is saying.

Things couldn't have changed more, for while he held me up, I wouldn't go rotten. But he dropped me harder and faster than a burning hot rock, and rot I did. From the inside, slowly.

I shake my head at him, frowning, eyes squinted in unbelief. He might as well trot out of my life. I don't care. I don't care, I don't care, I don't care…

Inu-yasha is looking at me, no, he stares at me, as if calculating something, and I shrink away unconsciously.

“Your lips are blue, ya know. What are you doing out here without a jacket anyways? You stupid girl, can't you see it's the middle of winter?” He asks. The words hurt, even though they are not meant to.

Stupid girl

Useless bitch

I never wanted a daughter

A couple of months

You were a mistake. Why can't you just die and leave me alone?

I exploded like a box with too many emotions. Drunk on pain, no coherent thoughts, just broken pieces of an old record in my mind. I was losing control. He was here. I didn't know what to feel. What I should feel. Thoughts were muddled, tangled. What do you think when the person you loved, the person who abandoned you, comes back out of the blue? What do you say when you are reminded of old wounds. When I see the boy I knew has grown into a man I barely want to recognise.

Bite, and bark, and rage. That's what I do. It's called self defence.

“Oh, well I'm sorry my mother is such a fucking bitch!” I shouted at him, afraid of the tears that welled in my eyes.

“Next time she kicks me out in the middle of the road, I'll make sure to bring a jacket.” My voice drips with so much poison, I myself feel the sting in the words. His eyes widen, and mine narrowed, more at myself for what I let slip. I don't want his pity. Not that he probably would give it, but it doesn't matter much anyways. It's not like he will stay in my life for much longer.

Another one of the interval gusts of wind rips through me, and I wince. I'm too cold. I can barely feel anymore, even the cold is ebbing away to an dizzying numbness. The shock, the stress, the tears, the unhappiness. I feel like throwing up. I feel like dying. Like giving up. It was a stupid idea, to stay in the park. I haven't eaten anything since breakfast, and there are two Inu-yasha's in front of me, and I think he's calling out, that something is on my arm, but I'm not sure…

Drunk on pain, drunk on sorrow, drunk on cold. I can't feel anything but numbing cold. Something is slipping away…

And then there isn't even darkness. I just know no more.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

A/N

Right. Well that's the real start of SOS (yes, changed the name, get over it.). I have the first next 6 chapters more-or-less written up (Though for those who have read this already, things WILL change). But, that by no means that this is a let's-get-five-word-reviews scam. My pace will not be set out by how many -Please Update soooon- reviews I get. Ok, so maybe if a really nice reviewer comes along and makes me feel guilty about not updating, then maybe I'll fix the next chapter up and post it a bit early. But that's just cause I have a bit fat conscience.

I must inform that I have 5 weeks of no lessons but exams ahead, and I will be revising my butt off. (For updates on my status, check profile.) Meaning I want to set this out so that when summer comes (yes, great guess, in 5 weeks), I have time to write new chapters while I still have some old ones to spare, as to not make you wait a lot for the new one.

My aim, (WARNING: Handle with mistrust. Doesn't know how to prioritize. Writes one-shots with stories pending) is to finish story by the end of summer. If people are nice, feedbacking, and Deadly Crimson blackmails me into writing, you will have your wish come true. Taking for granted that you'll like the story, that is…

Ok, have fun kids, and remember, mud may look like chocolate…but it's not.

TTFN. XD (I don't even like Tigger…the donkey (how the HELL do you spell his name) is the best) Eaor? Igor? Eyor? Melancholia?