InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Simple and Clean ❯ Lost Souls ( Chapter 23 )

I think I'm developing carpal tunnel (at this early age ?!)…owwie. So, here is another chapter done and finished. I'm sorry that some of you guys “can't review”, I came across that problem as well.

Please do this for me (at least try!):

Go to review and when the page comes up with no space to write, use the horizontal (that's across instead of up and down for those thick of head…) scroll and scroll to the right. When you are all the way scrolled over, you'll find the spaces to review and the button to submit it. I hope this was helpful!

Recap:

“Please stay,” She whispered, cheeks burning, a tendril of some strange emotion unfurling within the depths of her heart, “Stay with me.” Miroku took a firm but gentle hold on Sango's hand, pulling her up to meet his lips. He kissed her again then, but more passionately, hesitance left behind. Miroku pulled her close to him, running his fingers through her hair, across her face, down her back, re-acquainting himself with the feelings he knew he should have never forgotten.

Neither knew how long they stayed like that, enjoying the feel of their bodies against each other, nourishing the longing that went so long without fulfillment, but when Kikyo came back from her quite different talk with the old crone, there was one extra bed roll that wasn't filled.

 

Chapter 23

Lost Souls

 

Kouga wasn't prone to the outdoor life. His bond with nature extended to the annual two or three day family camping trips he had gone on as a child. Even then, he had spent the entire time in the mobile home trying to stay away from the mosquitoes and anything else (like the rabid squirrel that had chased after him on one trip) that might find it hilariously funny to torture him out of his mind. So, as you can imagine, he wasn't having the greatest time in the world sleeping out in the cold, weary, wet and with small animals crawling all over him.

He knew he should probably go and find were Inuyasha or that strange brother of his were sleeping, but even in the worst of situations, Kouga's pride drowned out any attempt at survival. He sat there under a fairly large tree just to find that three nights of soaking just made the largest tree have the largest drops of water. Hoping that the next day, the fourth day in this accursed forest, would bring sunshine, he nodded off against the hard, uncomfortable bark of the tree.

* * *

Kikyo sat with the others that night, as she knew she probably would for the rest of their stay in this village. She did not particularly want to speak to the villagers, nor especially to the healer. Instead, she sat that night and thought. She mused over the Shikon no Tama, its extraordinary power to create what never seemed even remotely tangible. What had Midoriko wanted them to do? What was choice she would have to make, and what did she have to choose? The goddess's words echoed in her mind, but something else nagged at her as well.

Naraku. Why did it bother her so much when the old healer had said his name? Maybe she had been mistaken, or maybe it was another Naraku. Surely the Naraku she had known in her time wouldn't have found a way into the past as well? She shook the thought from her mind. What nonsense! Of course he couldn't. It was probably just an outlandish coincidence; nothing more.

It was because of her obliviousness to the outside world that night that Kikyo never noticed what had happened between Sango and Miroku. If she had been attentive, she would have detected the secretive glances they shared, and how Sango blushed when Miroku's mouth twitched into a small smile. Rin, though, being her observational self, noted the change between them. She smiled impishishly up at the two of them, as if she understood things that others could only guess at, and grinned wider when Sango glared at her suspiciously.

Sango, Miroku and Rin went to bed as the candle began to sputter and burn out, devouring the last of the oil in the dish. Kikyo though, stayed awake, pulling the covers of her bedroll around her sitting form; just reflecting. Her eyes slanted in the dying light, watching the wraithlike shadows flit from wall to wall. As she watched, a figured of shadows formed in the gloom. It was hard to make out his facial features, and there was no apparent color to him, but she could tell just by the way he stood, who he was. She slumped against the wall, suddenly so tired she struggled to keep her eyes open.

The next morning when she woke up, she would have no recollection of the night's happenings, nor of the strange dream she had had when she had finally fallen asleep; the eerie delusion of Naraku, beckoning to her to join the shadows.

* * *

On the fifth night since Kagome's pale form had disappeared from view inside the headman's house, the sixth night in this strange new world, Inuyasha watched as lighting made its way through the sky, illuminating the silhouettes of the little forlorn huts. They swayed as the wind whistled through them, threatening to collapse them from their brittle frames.

By this time, both Sesshomaru and Inuyasha's trees were raining droplets down on their unprotected heads. Earlier in the week, Inuyasha might have taken the chance to sneer at the designer, his stylish clothing ruined, and his perfect tresses sodden and bedraggled, but his situation was the same, if not worse. His own hair stuck to his face, and as he attempted to brush it out of his eyes, sopping white tendrils clung to his cheeks, pleading not to be thrown back into the harsh wind of the storm.

Sesshomaru wasn't feeling too pleasant either. It wasn't as much the fact that he was as wet as a furry fish (that's wet), but more that he was stuck in the woods waiting for his brother's stupidly pathetic love interest to wake up from whatever dream she was having. It was lucky for her that she didn't have to be awake in such horrid weather, though, it was because of her that he was out in it instead. The man examined a delicate hand, his nails now long and tapered to a menacing point. Somewhere deep within him a tendril of hot emotion unfurled, coursing its way all the way to his very fingertips. It was his fault that they were 500 years in the past. If only he had stayed out of trouble in the first place.

It seemed no matter where Inuyasha went he left a trail of misfortune for Sesshomaru in his wake. I had always been his fault, even from the very beginning.

* * *

The wind was ebbing away from the village as the sun crept down behind the clouds, a tiny spot in a still rain-darkened sky. It was twilight on the sixth day since the eight companions had found their way to the village, and yet the storm prevailed. There seemed to be no end to the rain, as if a punishment for setting some inner balance swirling into oblivion.

The healer, her scraggly hair dividing her face, mumbled to herself as she poked at the fire. As she muttered, the fire twisted and churned, elongated fingers grasping an invisible force as they blended from orange to a light purple coloring. The old woman's eyes shot open momentarily, pupils lost into the back of her head, whites of her eyes the only thing visible. Blinking away the pain in her head, she watched the fire ebb back to its normal color.

Running bony fingers through her thinning hair, the healer took a deep breath to calm her thudding heart. It was unfortunate that the healer would not be able to tell the young priestess what she had seen, for at that very moment, a large insect imbedded itself in the loose flesh at the back of her neck. A searing fire of agony flamed up into her head, then died out almost instantaneously as she felt herself fall into the endless darkness of death.

* * *

“Murder, MURDER!” A shout rose from the village, startling a flock of jet black crows from the surrounding trees. The clouds had cleared from the sky, and the wind had picked up to howl through the doorways and cracks in the walls, probing at the very foundations of the huts. It was dawn in the little village, and a distressing atmosphere hung in the air.

Miroku, Sango, Kikyo and Rin filed out of the headman's hut groggily, awakened by the shouts. Before them was a small gathering of townsfolk, clustered around a man who had been shouting. The headman was already at the scene, trying to calm the villagers down. As the travelers pushed their way through the crowd to get a better look at what was distressing the people so, they came across an eerie scene.

Drawing back slightly at the arrival of the headman's “strange guests”, the villagers surveyed them uneasily. Kikyo was the first to come closer, bending down to examine the cold corpse. It was unmistakenably the village healer, a look of utter pain contorting her warm, elderly features. Looking up from the body, Kikyo asked quietly, “Who did this?”

Angered, the yelling man retorted, “We were going to ask you the same thing.” Kikyo put a hand over the healer's eyes, closing them. She then stood to look at the man straight in the eye. “I am a priestess, my companion is a Buddhist monk,” She gestured to Miroku, “A demon slayer, and a child.” She glared at the man. “We are no murderers.” The man cast his eyes to the ground as he muttered, “But what about the demons? They wouldn't hesitate to kill.”

“None of my companions, demon or human, are killers.” She said coldly, leaning over the body once more. Turning the old woman's head to one side, she drew back slightly as she caught sight of the back of her neck. There, buried deep into her flesh, was a large insect. Its putrid yellow coloring and large stinger could be seen protruding from the old woman's neck. Kikyo frowned slightly, wondering why the insect had acted so strangely. Why had it not used its stinger? It had instead buried head first, as a child would reach down a hole to retrieve a lost toy.

Just as she thought this, the stinger twitched slightly. Kikyo drew back farther from the body and watched in horror as the bug wriggled its way out of the healer's neck dragging a shimmering object out with its pincers. A frantic whispering went through the crowd at the sight of the creature. As if propelled by another force not her own, Kikyo reached out and smashed the insect against the woman's neck. As she did so, she brushed against the substance it was holding.

The effect was instantaneous. Kikyo's eyes rolled up into her head as strange images flashed before her. Unable to stop, nor control the flow of thoughts through her head, Kikyo blacked out, falling softly against the old woman's dead body. She did not know how long she had slept but when she awoke it was dark and she found herself looking up at the wooden rafters supporting the roof of the headman's hut. Drawing herself up quickly, she almost fainted again, but managed to hold on to her consciousness. Sighing, she rubbed her head in attempts to rid herself of the pain that was inching slowly behind her eyes.

Kikyo sunk back onto the pillow, closing her eyes against the darkness of the hut. Why would someone want to steal her soul? Kikyo wondered as she fell into sleep again.

* * *

Inuyasha watched the fiery mass of the sun recede slowly back into the trees, dozing slightly as the last rays warmed his face, balancing on a tree limb that overlooked the forest for miles. His stomach growled, reminding him of how little food he had left in his bag and that he would have to go hunting if Kagome didn't wake up in the next two days or so. Inuyasha ran a hand worriedly over his ears, thinking of the girl. It was strange the way even now, even when he couldn't see her, the memory of her face made his stomach do a large somersault, made his heart to beat so fast that it threatened to burst out of his very chest.

The last spurt of light flailed helplessly as the darkness pulled it down into the depths of the forest. At first, Inuyasha felt as though he was plunged into utter darkness. Looking up, he searched the sky for the little sliver of moon that had seemed to watch over him as he slept. It was not there. It must be a new moon, he thought, rubbing a hand over his ears again (his new way of comforting himself). But, to his surprise, his newfound ears were gone. Running his hand down the side of his head he realized two more things: his claws had become human nails and his ears were back to normal. Laughing nervously, despite the feeling of dread that had burrowed into his stomach, Inuyasha slid down from his perch in the tree.

His dread deepened as he heard a snapping of twigs from behind him. He felt almost deaf, blind and unable to sense anything. His heightened senses had vanished with his ears. A shiver ran down his back as footsteps materialized out of the quiet darkness. “So, this is why they call you a half-breed,” Sesshomaru's voice was as cold as the darkness, “I had heard rumors.”

Inuyasha's head whipped around to glare at his half brother, sparks dancing behind his amber eyes. “What's it to you?” He demanded, frustrated that he ended up sounding like a fifth grader.

“I understand now why you ended up only a half-breed,” Sesshomaru continued on, deaf to Inuyasha's childish anger. “It's because you, unlike me, were the product of a whim gone awry; a whim gone very awry.” Inuyasha clenched his fists, squeezing so tightly that his nails dug into the flesh of his palm. “I don't know what you're getting at,” he retorted, furrowing his brow deeper, “What are you trying to say?”

Sesshomaru examined his delicate hand, one eyebrow slightly cocked. “How many others besides your mother do you think there were?” He asked, amusement winding its way secretively into his voice. Inuyasha bent his knees unconsciously, as if preparing to use his fists against his brother. Realizing what he was doing, he relaxed slightly, deciding to hear Sesshomaru out, even if he had to endure the jabbing insults.

“My mother was high class,” Sesshomaru said as he sat down on a rock. Inuyasha leaned his back up against the tree, sliding awkwardly to the ground. He felt unprotected, almost naked. Sesshomaru watched him with emotionless eyes as he shifted uncomfortably. “She was a model for all the most famous designers: Gucci, Prada, Louis Vuitton… she was at the peak of her career when she married our father.” Sesshomaru spit out the last word, as if it was poison on his tongue.

“The years past, and he decided that he didn't love her anymore.” Inuyasha frowned, wondering why his brother had decided to let him know this little bit of family history now. Though puzzled, he couldn't help feel interested as Sesshomaru told his tale. “And so, he took a mistress. Or maybe more than one, I'm not sure of the number. But she was beauty with a price tag. Sold off like nightly wares. Your mother was dirty, and yet the one father treated like dirt was my mother.”

“Take that back you bastard!” Inuyasha hissed loudly. It was all becoming clear now. The straw that broke the camel's back… the fact that Sesshomaru's mother had died and their father had married again was too much for him. And so he had to degrade the child of his father's second marriage, call Inuyasha illegitimate because of his own frustration. When he had seen what Inuyasha had become in this world, a cross between two different classes, two different things, he had snapped. But deep down, Inuyasha felt there was truth in what Sesshomaru was saying. For though as a young boy Inuyasha had been acquainted with his mother as the “stay-at-home-mom”, there was a haunting beauty about her that told of much darker times.

“Don't run from the truth dear brother,” Sesshomaru said, the amusement in his voice growing, “Don't hide from your past.” Chuckling coldly, he asked, “Are you jealous? Are you jealous that he never really loved her, that he just kept her as an object?”

Inuyasha had endured the taunts from Sesshomaru for his entire life, from a small child the idea that he was impure, dirty, had always been ground into his head.

[Flashback]

The young boy sat in the large, lion footed bathtub, his mother's kitchen soap and the steal wool she used for the dishes in his hands. As he scrubbed himself, he muttered under his breath, almost as to assure himself, “I'm not dirty, I'm clean, I'm clean…I'm clean, mommy…” His eyes began to water, tears finding their way down his cheeks as the steal wool tore into the soft flesh of his back.

A young woman, barely over twenty, burst into the bathroom, her long brown hair trailing furiously behind her. Grabbing the steel wool from the child's fingers, she hugged his naked form tightly to her chest. “Inuyasha,” She whispered, sobbing into his soft silver hair, “Mommy loves you, mommy loves you…”

[End of Flashback]

“My mother loved me, Sesshomaru. Did yours?” Sesshomaru pulled away from him then, hefting his body off of the rock. He turned his back to hide the fire that had started behind his own eyes. When he had made his way out of hearing distance, he whispered softly to himself, “No, but I loved her.”

 

Ultra Special End of Chapter Blah Blah

Okay, I know everyone's dying to know when Kagome's going to wake up, if ever. Sooo, I promise I'll say next chapter, okay? Promise! Hope you liked this one, it's ultra long! If you did appreciate my extra uber hard work, REVIEW!!! ^_^

 

Reviews:

Kouga_Lover_3056:

I'm so sorry that you can't review, that's just unfair. Blergh. Anyways, thanks so much for the praise (motivation for my soul!), you rock! I hope you can review soon!

 

Kittencutie:

Apparently a few other people couldn't review either… [Lugs large stick to mediaminer command center] DIE!!! Anyways, Kikyo lover as I am, I too hope she won't be a bitch about it… who knows though? The characters now have their own lives… they just tunnel their thoughts through me (I have no control anymore!!!). Also, hopefully Kagome will wake up soon… hopefully. Didn't you like my Sango/Miroku fluff? I hope you did…

 

b A b ik A o R i:

Aww, it was nothing [blush]. I FEEL SO LOVED!! [runs around the room doing happy dance]

Author: ahem…composure remains.

Readers: WHAT composure???

 

Auroras-flame:

I don't exactly know what you're talking about when you're referring to Sesshomaru… I mean, in this fic at least, he's a guy (just in case someone missed that) and he likes women (not little girls, women). Okay, now that we've got that all cleared up, thanks so much for the reviews! I'm happy that you like Poncho and all the fluffiness; hope to hear from you again (glare).