InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Soliloquy in Adagio ❯ Princess Supposedly ( Chapter 1 )

Chapter One
Princess Supposedly

This is a memento for you, and only you. Think of it as a thousand years' worth of friendship. A gift, if you will, from me to you. For all that you've done and all that you will do (in this life or whenever we meet again). But please, don't ever let the others read this. I think I'd die of shock. A premature grave, imagine that.

Tokyo, Japan: Present

I saw them today, all of them. Crying for some reason, and for the slightest second, I was confused. And then I remembered. Oh.

Oh.

Like it hit me, hard and fast right in the stomach. I woke up, quick and bright, just as the sunlight was starting to stream and spread across the room, branching out its delicate fingers and stroking my face, eyelids, and forehead. I felt funny, un-trapped, not-trapped, not-in-this-body sort of feeling. The weird jolts and jilts that you get when you're getting over a hang-over, and the alcohol from hours ago has not completely disappeared yet.

And that's when I really remembered (oh) and everything became clear in that instant too. And for once in my life, I am not scared anymore.

And I'm floating away on this cloud, happy and content.

Tokyo, Japan: Past

I started high school this morning, and nearly died. Of suffocation and a thousand discontents and misunderstandings. I could have soared away in the sky anytime today, and no one would have noticed. No one ever noticed the others now. We're standing in this boiling cauldron, and all I thought of was what I was going to eat later that day. Or how ridiculous the uniforms were, and how we all looked like perfectly trained circus animals.

Jabbering, yelling, and laughing. Having a good time, you know. Just being stupid and childish. The kids we were—are.

I woke early that day, at dawn or some time close, I still remember the moment lucidly, and dressed and ate breakfast and performed other mundane things. Like finishing up the last of the summer assignment I purposely neglected to do. And when that was all set, I rushed out the door and ran the three blocks down to the nearest station.

And there, I said: My New Life Is Starting Here. Here and now, I was going to be a different person—entirely different—no more of that awkward, wallflower girl from middle school.

I was going to be pretty, magically (like everyone else did) and get good grades, have an excellent life, and at the end of it: some education (perhaps) and a feeling of self-worth (definite). And then, if by the merest shred of any phenomenon left, I was going to meet The One.

Not That One for the rest of my life, but the one for high school, the childhood crush that we all see in romance films and novels. So I could be prepared, and collected, and calm and oh-so-very sophisticated for life. And somehow, I wanted to be just like Kagome. And somehow, as I am thinking of this now, that was all I ever wanted to be.

Like Kagome. Self-assured, self-determined, self-everything. Because Kagome was perfect in my eyes, for all the aggravations she embodied and did, she was perfect. My ideal. My bold, unapologetic, rash, and reckless sister. Whom I both hate and love.

Funny that.

“Rin, wake up!”

I turned my head, still a bit sleepy and dizzy from the bright sunlight and humid afternoon air. Sango stood in front me, towering, which was remarkable considering she herself was barely medium height. I smiled in a dazed kind of way and asked what happened.

“You fell asleep, dummy,” she said, exasperated.

I laughed, “I guess I did. Oh well, it's not like I have missed anything. It's only the first day of school.”

“Only! I already have hours of homework to do tonight. It's terrible. Why do parents feel the need to torture us like this? And…and…I have to baby-sit Kohaku tonight too.”

That made me grin only more. “But it's not like Kohaku's a bad kid. He's so nice and obedient. Strange for a kid that age. Strange for any younger sibling.”

She sighed, dramatic and pouty like. “I suppose. I'm just too much of a bitch, I guess.”

Sango giggled, and I did too. Her infectious laugh hitting me hard, and I pinched her ass, jokingly, and she swapped my hand away. Mock-offended at my audacity.

“Sooo, now that Kagome is out of school, what about you? Are you gonna take on a new course of direction or copycat her to the last detail?”

I frowned. “Graduate school is hardly relevant to high school. They're like two completely different universes. And besides, I couldn't care less about Ka-go-me right now. I am here to enjoy my life.”

“Okay, okay. No need to get so touchy. I was only asking. Oh, and speaking of touchy…here he comes.”

I turned my head around immediately to the direction Sango was jutting her finger at. And I must admit (to her absolute horror should Sango ever discover) that I was slightly amused.

“Hello, Miroku,” I called out cheerily.

Sango shot me a dark look and gave him a darker one still. “Hello, Monk,” she said.

“Sango, dearest,” he replied, all sweet and endearing and undeniably false, “I wish you would stop calling me that. I am not really a monk, you know. Can't we let bygones be bygones? Can't we start afresh?”

She glowered even more but acquiesced slightly in the end. She always did. “Fine. But I swear, you try to pull that stunt again I'll chop you up faster than you can blink.”

“Agreed.”

“Say,” Sango began hesitantly, her eyes focused and sharp like daggers, very strange and piercing, “who is that guy over there?” She pointed at someone approaching us.

And for a second, a spasm of shock and pain flooded over my face. I could hardly breathe and panted in guttural rasps for air. The wave of familiarity and loss hit me so hard I thought surely I had died and gone to heaven and met some long-deceased relative. But the boy was every bit as alive as I was then. And when he came over, his silver hair danced prettily in the sunlight. And I was sure (there was no mistaking this feeling) he was someone I had met so long ago.

“Miroku!” he shouted happily and slapped Miroku on the head. A playful gesture, I am guessing. Only Miroku winced in pain and punched him back—hard.

“Inuyasha, you moron. That hurt. And I need my brain intact if I'm gonna pass this year, thank you.”

I laughed at that. What he said was absolutely true. Miroku was nearing the end of his high school career, and so far, the teachers haven't been exactly impressed with him. Oh, they've been impressed by his family, his background, but him? Not so much. Disappointed, definitely. But still not stupid enough to affront him. Or his monetary donations, for that matter.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. School is gonna suck this year. Last time we'll ever be in this place. I guarantee it,” Inuyasha added.

“Who knows, maybe I'll be outa here sooner than soon. Anyway, Inuyasha, meet Sango and Rin.”

Miroku pointed toward us. I smiled shyly, which grew only broader as Inuyasha beamed like ten thousand light bulbs. I don't know why but it felt like I've known him my entire life. Which was impossible since the only time I ever met a man with silver hair…so it couldn't have been that. But still, the feeling persisted and soon, I thought myself as enchanted. Or ensnared. Because maybe he wasn't the good guy, maybe he was the bad kind. Or maybe I was just thinking too much. I had a tendency to do that when I was younger, you know.

“It's nice to meet you, Inuyasha,” Sango said.

“Yeah. So, Miroku told me that you guys were going out. Is that right?”

Sango blushed furiously and attempted to conceal her mortification and excitement. No such luck. “Oh…um, no. Actually, we're just friends.”

Yeah right, I thought amusedly. I've never met two people in so much denial before them, Sango more than him. The way they acted, it was like they were meant to be. Destined and born to be completed by the other. Of course, Sango fervently denied this and declared it to be my overactive imagination at fault again. At which I could only sigh and tease her some more. She was very cute when she blushed. And I think that was partially the reason Miroku was so taken with her.

There was no tomato all the redder in the world. And sweeter too, I am guessing.

“Anyway, kiddies, let's get going to class. Can't be late again on the first day,” Sango urged us to get moving. Which we did, grudgingly. She had an on-time dedication that after all these years I still found to be a mystery.

And as we were moving along the hallways, going against the sudden inundation of students traversing everywhere all at once, I noticed that Inuyasha still hadn't stopped staring at me. I turned my head, tried to ease myself of the sudden discomfort but somewhere in the back of my skull, I felt his eyes boring a hole there. On the nape of my neck, the most sensitive part of the spine.

I tried to shrug it off as nothing throughout the day. That part was easy considering the difference in our grade levels meant I shared no class with him. With the one exception being math. I was always a science and mathematics freak, obsessed as my mother put it sometimes. And so, I was placed in a higher class level than was usually permitted. Which was ironic since normally I could barely scrape by a passing grade for literature and subjects that required more…nuances. Not that it mattered much. Mama had my life all planned out. And that was the frightening part: knowing how your life will play out before you lived it. And knowing there was no stopping a set course.

“Hey,” Inuyasha tapped me on the shoulder gently.

But I was still startled and jumped in my seat. I turned to my left and smiled reluctantly at him. “What is it?”

“Can we talk? After school today or something?”

I was deadlocked, embroiled, in something I know I would infinitely prefer escape from. But how could I reject his offer? Again, the familiarity and inexplicable, unfounded urge of trust pumped through my veins, surging—thumping—with my blood.

“Yeah, sure. Where do you have in mind?”

“Meet me by the west doors right after school.”

“Umm, okay. Just out of curiosity, is this important?”

His smile was restrained and mixed, not something I was anticipating for. “You could say that. Just meet me there, okay? No matter what happens.”

“All right.”

And that was settled, and so it commenced. And so, you see, I had no choice over my future. Not like you or anyone else in that matter. How could I chose? How could I defy fate and destiny and everything? You probably think I am a coward, blaming my miserable situation on something out of my control. But I am telling you: this was how it happened, this was how I ended up like this.

And to this very moment, I keep thinking: was it punishment for something? And in my gut, in my heart, in the most base, animalistic, and truest part of my brain, I know: it was. It always has been.

The die is cast, and there is no escaping. No changing. That would be cheating, you see. And you can't ever cheat the gods more than once.

So, you can just imagine my deepest surprise and secret euphoria when Inuyasha smiled at me. It was strange, I admit. And I didn't know why but it felt so comforting, like it was meant to be. And now you probably think that I'm some silly woman thinking of love-at-first-sight but that's not the case. Or it might have been. I don't know.

I don't know anything anymore.

Tokyo, Japan: Present

One of my longest friends came over last month (or was it the month before that?). In any case, she came over and offered to write down my life as a memoir. A book. I was astounded and stared at her for a solid ten minutes without speaking. And when I finally was able to regain full function of my tongue again, she cut me off at every convenience.

“Try to understand, Rin,” she said kindly, “This isn't just for you. I mean, of course it'll be about you, your life, your story. But it's for every woman in the world. You'll be doing them a great favor.”

I raised my eyebrows sharply at her so-called elucidation. “A favor. How?”

“Well…it'd be like a self-help book for women stuck in shitty marriages. And how one day they miraculously woke up, realized about their own self-worth, and dumped the jerk. Sort of like creating your own happily-ever-after out of misery. Brilliant, huh?”

“No, it's not. First of all, I don't really appreciate the idea of my personal life being put on display like that and secondly—”

“Oh come on, Rin! Don't be so ridiculous. It's not like the entire universe doesn't already know about your tragic marriage. This is just the world we're talking about.”

I flinched at the underlying caustic tone of “tragic marriage”. I suppose I shouldn't feel the urge to laugh, but I did, and that was what made it worse (for everyone else). The fact that I couldn't reconcile with him was appalling to my mother and friends and acquaintances and even the spiders dangling from my ceiling. I didn't understand why. Things change, people change, and some things were never meant to be. Like me and him, like…like sometimes, I felt me living in this world. Incompatible. Forever.

“Yes, but still. It'd be too awkward. Just let it go already.”

“No.”

“Oh? And why not? Don't I have any say in this matter?”

“I'm afraid you don't, Rin. Because honestly! If I left it up to you to decide, I'd be eighty-five and dying before I got an answer.”

“No, just an answer you want.” She laughed at that.

“True. Anyway, I will be here every afternoon for however long it takes for you to divulge your scintillating tale of romance, drama, and pain. How does that sound?”

“Bad. In more ways than one.”

She rolled her eyes, her eyelids twitching like butterflies taking flight. “I will be here promptly at three every afternoon. And don't even try to come up with some lame excuse to get out of it; we both know you have nothing else to do.”

I merely sighed and watched her go. She was right: there was nothing I could find to occupy myself with. I was either sleeping, thinking of sleeping, or getting sleeping most of the time now. Falling asleep, that was my occupational hazard. So, if you think that I am explaining my life to you (like I am right now) then you are sorely mistaken. It's not my own free will, not my choice at all but something I could absolutely not avoid. But somehow, I found myself enjoying this. An emotional catharsis, letting out the bad so the good could flow in. If there was any good.

That was until Inuyasha called. An emergency, he put it. And again, I found myself sympathizing with him. And again, it made me wonder if Kagome and I should've switched husbands.

That would be like a dream come true.

Tokyo, Japan: Past

The rest of the day sped past quicker than I could blink. My classes were dull for the most part; unlike Kagome, I was never the studious type. I participated and compelled myself to live up to Mama's expectations but fell short of anything beyond. I had no sense of accomplishment or failure. To me, things will turn out how they were meant to turn out: some sort of distorted, grotesque destiny-belief. That was what I advocated back then (now, it's a different matter but I will get to that in a while).

I remember that day clearly mostly because it stood out so sharply in the vast caverns of my memory. I remember the school uniform and the warm air from outside and even the lavender scent I decided to try on—a commemoration, I think, for my first day in high school.

The west doors that Inuyasha designated as our meeting place were also known as the “delinquents' corner”. Not really that the bad kids had their rendezvous there so much as the fact that it looked so dilapidated and wild as compared to the other parts of the school. It was a very prestigious academy, you have to understand. But for as long as anyone could remember, the west doors never met the standards as the other ones. West, where things ended, it was kind of fitting.

I could tell from his shuffling feet that he'd been waiting for me for a while (even though I ran out as soon as the bell rang). And he did not look pleased, nervous, anxious.

“Hey,” he called out. And tried to smile but it turned out to be grimace.

“Hey yourself. What's wrong?”

“Nothin', nothin'. I just wanted to talk, that's all.”

“Okay…talk about what?”

“You've already met my brother, right?”

I paused for a second and sudden realized that he was talking about Sesshoumaru. I couldn't believe that I didn't notice immediately at first. Of course, I noticed the resemblance and suspected something but the very fact of me not realizing sooner—I took that as a personal slight.

“Oh, yeah. Of course. Taishou. That's your family name, isn't it?”

He grinned sheepishly. “Yeah.”

“And you guys are…brothers,” I spat the word out like a curse. It felt disgusting to say.

“Yes. Half-brothers, actually. Different moms, same dad.”

“Oh. Okay. So how does that concern me?”

He laughed at my bluntness. “Still haven't changed after all these years,” he mumbled.

“What's that supposed to mean? Have we met before?” I whispered, feeling the surge of excitement coming on. The adrenaline of discovering hidden treasure pumping.

“Why? Do you think he have?” He leaned in closer, and I blushed furiously.

“No, it's just a stupid feeling. Anyway, continue.”

“Don't deny your gut, Rin. It's always right.”

“Well, right now, my gut is telling me to leave if you don't answer my question soon.”

He laughed again. It was too charming to resist. “Yeah, so the reason why I'm here is to tell you: don't get pissed off at Sesshoumaru. He doesn't mean any harm. He's a…decent guy after a while.”

I snorted contemptuously. “That's hard to believe. The guy's going out with my sister and I haven't seen him more than once or twice and only briefly for that matter. I don't think I'll be getting pissed off anytime soon.”

“But for future reference, don't…let your impulses get the best of you. Try to hold them in. There's a reason for everything. And Sesshoumaru…seriously, he's not so…bad.”

I frowned. The whole scenario was too bizarre for contemplation. Inuyasha sticking up for his older brother. In the first place, I had met Inuyasha only this morning. And as for Sesshoumaru…I haven't seen him in weeks (and I'm certainly not about to complain about that). I was exhausted and hot, and I couldn't care less about any of the Taishous.

“Look, Inuyasha, thank you for your concern, I guess. But I have no problem with Sesshoumaru, and unless he has a problem with me then this conversation is pointless. So if you'll excuse me—”

“Speak of the devil,” Inuyasha interrupted.

I turned around and saw Sesshoumaru pull up in a shiny, silver Porsche. A new one, at that. Of course. What else would he be driving?

“Sesshoumaru, what the hell? I thought…” and Inuyasha trialed off mindlessly.

“Change of plans. Get in the car, Rin. Inuyasha, I'm sure you're already aware of the situation.”

Inuyasha nodded like a mute puppet, his strings being pulled by a monster. I didn't move. I couldn't move. This was just too weird.

“Get in the car, Rin,” Sesshoumaru repeated the command. His voice grew icier (if that was possible) and I shivered despite the sultry heat.

“Why?” I demanded back, though I was ready to kill myself to get away from the damn humidity.

“Your sister is in the hospital,” he replied, even and cool, not a trace of emotion revealed.

I gasped for air and like a lightening bolt that's hit me, I jolted into action. My legs walked themselves over to his car, and the rest of my body found itself obedient and eager. But my mind was racing and a million questions were bursting out of my mouth at once. I didn't know how I found the time to breathe.

“What happened? Is she all right? Is she dead, dying?”

“No. She is fine. It was a minor accident…incident.”

“Which hospital? How far away? Does my mother know? And how do you know? Why isn't my mother or someone else here to pick me up. Why you?” I knew that my tone was accusing, like this was somehow all his fault, like he could have prevented this, but I didn't care. I was seething with disbelief and anger.

“Be quiet,” he hissed softly.

“No. I want answers. Tell me.”

He slammed the door shut, nodded to Inuyasha, and turned to glare at me. My blood froze, and my heart stopped in mid-beat. He was terrifying.

“You'll find out soon enough. So shut up,” and decided to add, “Please.”

I nodded slowly. The bile in my throat refused to go down, and the churning in my stomach was only increasing it. He drove the car like a maniac but his body and face never altered for a second. Sesshoumaru remained controlled and resolute, but I could see he was having a difficult time maintaining an impeccable mien: his knuckles were turning whiter and whiter. The skin was too taut, nearly translucent.

The car rushed by like a blur, just like the scenery and the honking and screaming from other drivers—swerving to escape Sesshoumaru's insane driving. I couldn't breathe despite the inviting comfort of the air conditioner. Something was wrong, something irrevocably horrible had happened. And I, like usual, was on the outside staring in—an unwanted dog that no one would even throw the scraps to.

The hospital Kagome was confined to was in the middle of the city, a busy, important monument for display. The doctors were the best, and so were the nurses. The rooms, the floors, even the dust, were too pristine. Too perfect. I knew I was in the wrong place when I entered (unfortunately, it also became a place I would frequent often in the years to come, sometimes on behalf of others but mostly because of myself).

A nurse led us to Kagome's room on the eleventh floor. I braced myself for what I would see, so you must understand that it is not because I was unkind or malevolent but it just felt so…appropriate when I expected some awfully brutal injury. Instead, my sister was resting contently with her head tilted backwards, surrounded by cloud-like cushions (nine hundred thread count, I recall). Courtesy of a very exorbitant donation to the hospital.

“Kagome,” I said.

She looked up sleepily and smiled. “Hello, Rin.”

“What happened?” I demanded, impatient and infuriated.

“Nothing. Don't worry about it.”

“Don't worry?” I nearly shrieked. Sesshoumaru noticeably winced at that, sensitive ears and all. Stupid jerk.

“Yes. Don't. Worry. About. It. Sesshoumaru shouldn't have brought you here in the first place. But now that you are here, and you can see that I am perfectly fine, just go home Rin. And tell mother not to throw another fit.”

I stared at her incredulously, my mouth hanging wide open and eyes popping out. I could not believe what she had just ordered me to do.

“Kagome,” I began slowly, reminding myself that I did not come here for a contention, “Can you please tell me what's going on? First he tells me something has happened and I better come here immediate and now you are telling me nothing is fine, that I should leave. What the hell?”

“Rin, it was an overreaction. On my part, and on his. It was a small car accident, nothing monstrous. He shouldn't have brought you all this way here.” She eyed Sesshoumaru quizzically (who merely raised an eyebrow).

“Fine. I see that I'm being a nuisance here. I'll just leave you two alone then.”

“Not nuisance, Rin. But please, just go. And calm Mama down. She's probably about to explode right now.”

Her eyes implored me to go, and as much as I detested the idea of being out of the loop, I left her and Sesshoumaru to their secret whispers.

It was six by now, and traffic would be horrendous if I decided to call down a cab. Our apartment was only a few streets away. I remembered passing this hospital numerous times (but never going inside it) for years while going to the elementary then the secondary school and later on to the shrine to help on the busiest days. Mama had long ago persuaded Grandfather to abandon the shrine as a place of habitation. It was now used as a tourist-attraction primarily and a sanctuary for the rare believers still left in modern Tokyo.

Not that Grandfather complained, after a while. His bones and joints ached incessantly, and getting evicted from the shrine was like a blessing in the disguise of a curse. That was how he put it, on a good day. On the bad ones, he merely complained.

As I walked, I thought of how to explain that afternoon's events to Mama, Souta, and especially Grandfather. Souta would take it quietly, and Mama would fuss and fret but in the end, won't do anything rash. But Grandfather would be absolutely enraged and demand justice (as to what kind of justice, I have no idea). He would curse Sesshoumaru, which would be terribly amusing to witness. And even though Kagome called it an overreaction, I could deduce that that wasn't it.

But I was always accused of letting my imagination run untamed, run too free and fervid, so maybe I was wrong and it really was nothing. Except years later, when I was in the same hospital myself for a similar reason, I realized that I'd been right the first time. I always was.

And what Inuyasha said to me that day remained with me (from then till death): always trust your gut. Because it's the last thing that will ever betray you.

The days after Kagome's incident (as she put it delicately) sped past without much focus, like trying to read something with the wrong prescription glasses. The hazy mood of the post-crash days were emphasized by the incoming heat wave. Grandfather couldn't compel himself to do anything other than sit in the shade or hog the fan or air conditioner for that matter and complain. Mama tried to be reasonable at first and told us to be nice to him—he's too old for clear-thinking, that was how she put it. But after a while, she got fed up too, and that's when the screaming began.

Kagome returned home only once during that sluggish week. She was unresponsive, temperamental, and to put it mildly, insane. It seemed like there was something wrong with everything, and when I finally pinned her down and shouted at her, demanding to know what was going on, she acquiesced. Which was quite stunning in itself.

“So talk,” I said, slightly mollified.

“About what?”

“About why you've been so horrible and moody lately.”

“Oh, that,” she sighed dramatically, “I suppose you wouldn't understand it.”

I frowned. My face twisted into a harsh, ugly caricature at the way she pretentiously waved her hand. “Stop teasing me. Just tell me what's wrong, and I might actually help. I mean, of course I'll help you if I can do it.”

Her eyes shifted up slightly, and a mischievous grin crept into her tiny face. “Oh, really? You promise you will?”

“Sure, sure. Just tell me what.”

“Well…the thing is…there's this charity event this Saturday. Sesshoumaru's mother is hosting it, and I told him I'd accompany him but now that I've got this stupid cast on, that's no longer possible. So I was wondering if you would please, please, please go in my place?”

Oh, the nerve of that woman. She batted her eyelashes prettily, smiled up at me all sunshine and bubbles. And I could've just screamed.

“Absolutely not,” I shot back.

“But you promised!”

“Then I take it back.”

“You can't do that.”

“But, Kagome, I'm no good at these things. Formal events, state dinners, and dancing. You know how clumsy I am. And I'll have to wear a gown and everything.”

“Yes, wouldn't that be gorgeous?”

“For you, maybe. You're good at those things. You live for them. I don't. So why can't you just suck it up and commit yourself, like you promised him you would?”

“I think you should go instead. And you can spend all evening torturing Sesshoumaru. I know you'd love that.”

I was stuck, and she knew it. And the worst part was that her last line gave me the perfect incentive—something she knew I'd never overlook. So now, I was pinioned and fettered by my sister, doomed to some stupid event where I'll have to suffer through hours of feminine tribulations. Wonderful. I couldn't believe how agreeing to do her one small favor today would blow up into the gigantic mess of tomorrow.

Kagome took me shopping two days after she declared her mandate. She didn't take me directly; that would have been impossible with her condition. Instead, she had me leashed on the tightest chain imaginable, a second away from her cell phone. I went with Mama, in her place, as Mama so eloquently stated. But the ordeal was no less exasperating, even more horrid to be honest. Mama had a predilection for the ornate, the flamboyant—the gaudy. And I simply hated that sort of style.

I walked from store to store, holding a cell phone to my year and Mama by my side, like two leeches stuck till infinity comes. My shoes cut and chaffed my feet, very painful. See, I still have blisters to this day. Only joking, of course. Oh, don't take this so seriously. Anyway, it wasn't until very late in the evening that I found one suitable enough.

The streetlights were already lit by then, and everywhere you could smell the delicious aroma from food stalls along the sidewalk. I can't tell you exactly how I found my dress. It might have been Mama who pulled me in or some strange scent (I know it sounds terribly implausible) that sort of…called me to it. Like I felt strings tugging in the deep cores of my heart. I couldn't ignore it, couldn't turn around and run away. And a flux of memories and eons I've lived and breathed, they resurfaced too. But it couldn't have been my life. I couldn't think, I just walked. Right on in.

So in I went and out came me and a dress. It was nothing fancy. Something simple. Always something simple.

And so it was: a white dress with some glass beading, down to my knees, a dipping neckline, and backless—something scandalous, something pure. I even felt half-pretty wearing it, can you believe it? Even to this day I can barely stand the sight of dresses, bad experiences you can call it that. And white dresses are the worst. But that night, I didn't care. I felt special, like a princess floating around the clouds without cares and worries, and blood full of magic and possibilities.

“You look beautiful, Rin,” Mama said.

I smiled at her, a genuine one. She hugged me, tight and long, and I stood there in her embrace happy and sad at the same time. I kept thinking that this won't—can't—last and somehow things will go permanently disastrous, and so it did. And it all began (really began, because this was like the prelude) when I went with Sesshoumaru in Kagome's place.

I dressed urgently that evening, everything had to be immaculate, impeccable, just perfect. Kagome did my make-up, and Mama did my hair. And I slipped on my shoes—that much they allowed me to accomplish. But despite the rushing that I felt, they took their time and it was already seven when I left the house.

Sesshoumaru was by his car, irritated but kept his vexation demure and silent. He opened the door for me, and I slid my way in. There was no conversation on the ride there, to the hotel. I stared straightly ahead, as did he. I suppose one of us would attempt some façade of a palaver but the efforts were futile. I was dreading the evening's event, and he was equally displeased at the outcome. He had been expecting Kagome to be there, sweet and attentive and knowing the exact degree of being both gracious and gregarious. I, on the other hand, knew the arts of only altercation and aggravation. So, perhaps I shouldn't blame him entirely, a small (very small) part of everything was my fault too.

We arrived promptly at eight; he was very fastidious when it came to the details. The sight was breathtaking. The Taishou family spared no expenses for the night's “festivities”. Quote and quote by Kagome. Idiot.

The entrance was lit by thousands of fluttering lights, miniature candles and lanterns with their brilliance dancing. Inside was even more ornate. Mirrors lined against all four walls of the ballroom (where the charity dinner and later dance were being hosted) and the light from the towering chandeliers made everything shimmer like diamonds. I suppose I should've congratulated Mama on coaxing me into buying a white dress; I couldn't have matched the décor even more impressively. Flowers were set at every table, both exotic and traditional ones. But each centerpiece composed of two dozen (at least) roses knotted into a marvelous bouquet.

“I hate roses,” I mumbled.

Sesshoumaru turned around and looked at me peculiarly. “Yes, I know. You never liked them.”

“How do you know that?”

“I know a lot of things,” he replied smugly (evasively). Or was it portentously? I can't remember now.

I responded with absolute clarity, “And I hate you too. Why do I have to suffer and be punished?”

“If it is any consolation to you, I would never be here with you either if it was of my own choosing.”

“Great. If we both feel so against this, then let me go.”

“No.”

“Oh? And why not?”

“Because my mother is coming this very moment,” he growled.

I spun around, strained my neck looking for her. Sesshoumaru had gone tense and stiff next to me, and I was almost giddy with guilty pleasure knowing that someone could disturb him so much.

His mother walked with…how do you say it? A je ne sais quoi. There was something about her that was mesmerizing and terrifying. Obviously, the fact that she was at least five feet ten helped. And I, standing at least seven inches shorter, was quite intimidated. But she was a cordial lady, very polite but distant. And there was something in her voice that could make anyone flinch. Still, she was polite, and that was enough. I was surprised at her choice of attire though. She wore a long kimono that must've been a century old at least, antique and priceless. It was a blazing gold with the most exquisite design I've ever seen, intricate flowers woven and intertwining with cranes and other foliage, and even a miniature city from the Edo period. I openly gawked at it, unblushingly as was expected of my nature.

“Welcome, Sesshoumaru…and Rin, I assume.”

“Yes, but how did you know that?”

“He's told me about you. And your sister. Our families have known each other for generations.”

I tried to smile or at least say something in acknowledgement to her statement but the words wouldn't come up properly. I especially felt ill at ease at the mention of my sister, like there was some insinuation I was missing, and that made all the difference in the game. My face betrayed my feelings and turned my crooked half-grin into a complete, puzzled grimace.

“I'm sorry but I don't think I've met you before this night.”

She replies pleasantly, “Of course not. But it is wonderful to see you, Rin.”

“You too,” I mumbled back.

She turned and left, her shoulder blades rippling from her delicate back. It was surreal how she moved, so full of grace and ethereal beauty, like it was almost too unnatural, not human. She looked like a snake.

“Cold.”

“What did you expect?” he answered.

“Nothing. I just…I don't know. I don't really want to be here, that's all.”

He smiled slightly. “I know.”

“I don't have to dance with you do I?”

I looked around me hesitantly and saw the couples waltzing and spinning around. My head was hurting just from seeing the swirling dresses and pristine suits. What was wrong with these people? And what was wrong with me? What was I doing there?

“No.”

“Thank God—”

“But you should.”

“What? But-but why?”

“Appearances.”

I stared at him dumbfounded. Here was a man who seemed like he could take on the world if he wished, and he cared about appearances? I couldn't wrap my mind around this information.

“Why do you care so much?”

“I don't.”

“Then why…”

“Be quiet.”

He placed his hands on my waist and led me into a dance. I looked up at him (the stark height difference was really starting to bother me) and felt the tension rippling between his. The muscles in his arms were taut and hard enough to resemble steel. I could barely move from being so stiffened by fear and anticipation. At that moment, I knew that something had gone irrevocably wrong and that everything—my life—would change. But still, I let myself continue dancing with him.

And I didn't know why. I never knew why.

“I've been looking for you for a long time,” he whispered into my left ear.

I gasped and felt his hands becoming claws and digging into my flesh. For a second, I thought I saw red filming over the white of his eyes. And then, I went blank.