InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Sparkle in the Dark ❯ The Dark ( Chapter 2 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Suketchi 
~The Dark~
Clutching at the warm blanket around her shoulders she answered softly,
“…yes.”
The officer's voice was rough, demanding, despite his attempts at trying to be gentle in coaxing the young woman to cooperate.
“So he's…forced you.”
Slim fingers shook with each word, her body going rigid and her eye's welling up with tears. Tears that had been shed so many times before, yet only now were being `heard'. Sniffing, she bit her lip shaking her head yes. Pulling petite legs up to sit against her still cold chest, Kagome shifted on the hard cement curb, watching in utmost captivation as blue, red and white flashing lights blinked against the darkness of this deserted back-street. This black, evil, secluded street in where she'd worked so many times before. Worked. This was a job now?
“How did he get you to do this?”
This time the female policeman dressed in her blue-collared shirt with that shiny badge and cold metal gun asked as if it were impossible to believe. Sure…impossible for her maybe.
“…he, I-my…”
Trying to explain such actions to someone like that. How disgusting it must be for them. Someone eyeing your bruised, black and blue face with those nasty cuts that had been split open by numerous blows…it had to be appalling. Reminding herself of that, Kagome didn't bother in brushing back the stray strands of raven black hair that fell in her face when she tilted her head down. Maybe if she did that they couldn't see it…see her.
“M-my mother, she died and…”
The blood from her parched lips was now mingling with the liquid of her tears, each word escaping more meekly then the previous.
“…he was the only one who cared.”
The two only stared at her, making the young woman feel as if she were being judged again. This time the so-called `good guys' were doing the judging. Trying to snuggle against the small emergency blanket some more, Kagome shivered hating this just as much. Now she had nothing…what would they do now? Leave her on the streets to do as she wished? Probably. At least when HE was around, she didn't need to worry about where her next meal was coming from, or where she'd sleep for the night. Well…maybe not at night.
“He's going to prison for a very long time so there's no need to worry Ms…?”
Waiting for her to give them her name, she hesitated not sure what to say. Who was she again? Oh…that's right.
“…Higurashi. Higurashi Kagome.”
The Dark.
***
She now sat on the cushion of a hospital bed, it's while cotton lined sheets and clean fragrant scent creating her to swallow sticky spit in anxiousness. Wincing as another stitch was pulled through, Kagome gave a sigh, feeling a sense of comfort. Perhaps `normal' people didn't like being shipped to the hospital for violent attacks, or wouldn't call being stitched up comforting…But to her…this was comfort. And then again, she really wasn't `normal' either. The cheery voice of her nurse, with that little name tag, red cross and bright smile spoke, breaking her from her thoughts.
“Almost done.”
A few moments went by as she looked to the ceiling, trying to catch a glance of the dark black string going in and out in mesmerizing motions against her brow.
“Annnddd, there.”
Going for the small swabs at the side of the bed, the nurse hummed to herself bringing it to the leftover cuts at the base of her lips and chin that were in no need to be stitched.
“Seems like you'll be just fine. A little bit of bruising, but nothing to worry about.”
Bright pearly white teeth shone at her, the curve of the nurses red lips making the young woman want to slap it right off. Kagome couldn't smile. Kagome couldn't smile. No…she couldn't smile. She couldn't smile because her face hurt like hell. She couldn't smile because her soul hurt like it had been sent to hell. Kagome wouldn't smile. There was no reason to. Yet as this happy lady looked at her, she wondered if she was expected to. Kagome hadn't smiled since…that day. That day her world came crashing down, when her gaze had caught the cherry oak of her mothers casket, then the dark black of his eyes. Him, the one man who'd given her these stitches and so much more.
Dodging the whole situation, the young woman diverted her eyes away from the annoying nurse, to the marble white floor, raising a blood stained hand to her swollen face. Wanting to hiss in pain, she took a shaky breath and let her fingers fall.
“Now, now, don't touch it. I'll send you home with some bandages and pain killers.”
Home. How she wished she'd had one now. Her so called `home' was a boarded up drug dealer shack that had its occupants shipped to a maximum security prison…her `escort' probably waiting for her downstairs or in the hallway of this place, so she could go as well. And hopefully…these painkillers would be enough to put her to sleep. Permanently of course.
Not answering the nurse, Kagome fiddled with the hem of her short plaid red skirt, hating how this and her jeans were the only `wardrobe' she had possessed. And now…it was only this slutty outfit she had. Would ever have. The rest of her belongings were still in that crap shack. Yes, still in that duffel bag she'd used the very day she left.
“I'll be back in bit.”
Giving a sigh after a moment of silence, the young woman let her eyes fall to the light pink of her shirt…well what used to be pink anyway. Brown speckles and blotches of dried blood stained the front, its tare down the middle making her blush when suddenly coming to realized it revealed much of her bra and shoulder. Raising tired, sore, weak arms over her chest, Kagome tried conserving what little dignity she had left. Letting her head lower a bit more now, she wondered how many more people she'd disgusted…. Yet at the same time, really didn't care.
Dirty black tendrils of her raven hair tumbled over her shoulders to her collarbone, its soft sensation alien. Tired eyes looked to them with indifference; her sticky tongue slipping from its confines in a futile attempt at unconsciously wetting her dry, parched, blood encrusted lips.
“Here.”
Clean fingers with their well-manicured nails encircled the white coffee cup, its content cool and refreshing, teasing the underside of her nose. Her own, with its dirty digits and cracked, broken nails took it with gratitude as her irises slowly moved up to connect with dark brown eyes. The woman's stoic demeanor matched her pitch-black hair and expressionless gaze, a seemingly heartless look of judgment…all directed towards one person.
“I'm your social worker.”
The light sand color of her business suit, with its flawless, tailored and pressed appearance simply hollered respect. This woman's proof of her superiority in the social hierarchy, showing from the tips of her black dress shoes to the neatly tied bun her hair was pulled into, and even the sound of her voice made the teenager cringe.
“I believe we've met before…have we not, Kagome Higurashi?”
Yes before. How she hated her then, how she hated her now. Perhaps not personally, yet hated all the same. Kagome furrowed her brow when remembering. This woman represented everything in what had helped crush the little hope she had left in the world not so long ago. What helped beat a cheery little boy who once could be called her brother, into a self-loathing stranger whom she'd never know again. It wasn't Souta's fault…it never was. But being torn from his one support beam and shoved into a random home where he was constantly screamed at and hit for nothing…nothing at all…She couldn't blame him. He'd had enough, just like any other human being.
“Kikyo Midoriko…?”
The woman said her name seeming to try and jog the bruised girl's memory. Of course Kagome recalled her…yet this time the teen wasn't the scared wide-eyed little rabbit she'd been back in that cold office.
Lowering her eyes to the white cup again, she lifted it to her mouth and drank acting unfazed by this woman's presence.
“…Your lucky that man didn't kill you.”
Keeping her gaze down, Kagome simply let her scraped finger run over the rim of her Styrofoam cup slowly. A frustrated sigh escaped Kikyo when not receiving a response, her briefcase suddenly appearing out of the corner of Kagome's eye as it was set on the hospital mattress. The click of its shiny silver lock could be heard opening then closing just as quickly, the shuffle of papers drowning any other sound away…then silence.
“…Runaway.”
Clenching her teeth at the flat, unconcerned voice as well as the word itself, Kagome waited listening intently.
“Eight months disappearance,”
Had it only been that long? The young woman raised her eyebrows in surprise. `…More like eight years.'
“Found on Sheridan Street and central by police,”
Closing her eye's Kagome gave a silent sigh.
“…being beat by convicted sex offender Naraku Onigumo.”
Swallowing hard, the young woman fought the urge to burst out in tears. His name…his very name made her stomach churn and mind reel. The social worker, with her cold tone spat out each syllable as if it were infected…diseased. Silence soon resided after that, the burning stare of Kikyo's dark eyes scorching, unnerving but most of all uncomfortable atop Kagome's still downed head, created the teenager to shift and look up.
“This is what happens you know…”
Tear filled, stormy eyes that had seen to much for a sixteen year old fixated on this seemingly perfect businesswoman, asking god for what seemed like the millionth time in her life…Why no one cared. Fisting cut, bruised hands, she turned her gaze downward again…yet this time not in shame.
“You just don't get it.”
A horse, raspy response came from the beaten girl, almost whispered…bland. Kikyo raised a delicately plucked eyebrow narrowing her eyes a bit.
“There's nothing to `get' Kagome. Until you turn 18, I will be responsible for where you reside and running away will not be tolerated. Do you understand?”
The social workers stern voice was like a mechanical demand, heartless and on the verge of crude.
“I only want what's best for you.”
Kagome could've burst out in disbelieving laughter as she stated this, more robotic sounding then the last `reassuring statement' she'd pointed out. If she only had a penny every time she'd heard that…
***
The nights gray sky loomed overhead like a dome, endless all around. The orange glow of streetlights illuminated the clouds above, showing their ugly color as well as the cringe worthy city under their darkness. Icy gusts blew across her bare shoulders; small crystal's landing wetly as they whipped the hair around her brow and collar wildly, her shiver being ignored by the social worker next to her.
They stood outside the hospital, its gloomy presence eerily looming across the parking lot as they waited. A few minutes went by as the gusts of freezing wind pricked against her skin, a sigh of relief escaping her lips when seeing the dark blue van turn the corner with its white lettering: City vehicle.
Kikyo readjusted the large jacket around herself opening the metal door as it stopped next to them. Its creek sounded like a raising guillotine, her dark eyes, darker then the very night now and her chilling expression, colder then the breeze, made the young woman swallow hard. Stepping into the large van, Kagome sat forgetting for a moment that her bruised, cut up face pained her to the very core…only able to let her fear strike as the encompassing darkness surrounded her and the guillotine came down.
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Hentai / Romance / Angst | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 09.25.2005 | Updated On: 02.15.2012 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.1K | Visits: 313 | Status: Work In Progress
~The Dark~
Clutching at the warm blanket around her shoulders she answered softly,
“…yes.”
The officer's voice was rough, demanding, despite his attempts at trying to be gentle in coaxing the young woman to cooperate.
“So he's…forced you.”
Slim fingers shook with each word, her body going rigid and her eye's welling up with tears. Tears that had been shed so many times before, yet only now were being `heard'. Sniffing, she bit her lip shaking her head yes. Pulling petite legs up to sit against her still cold chest, Kagome shifted on the hard cement curb, watching in utmost captivation as blue, red and white flashing lights blinked against the darkness of this deserted back-street. This black, evil, secluded street in where she'd worked so many times before. Worked. This was a job now?
“How did he get you to do this?”
This time the female policeman dressed in her blue-collared shirt with that shiny badge and cold metal gun asked as if it were impossible to believe. Sure…impossible for her maybe.
“…he, I-my…”
Trying to explain such actions to someone like that. How disgusting it must be for them. Someone eyeing your bruised, black and blue face with those nasty cuts that had been split open by numerous blows…it had to be appalling. Reminding herself of that, Kagome didn't bother in brushing back the stray strands of raven black hair that fell in her face when she tilted her head down. Maybe if she did that they couldn't see it…see her.
“M-my mother, she died and…”
The blood from her parched lips was now mingling with the liquid of her tears, each word escaping more meekly then the previous.
“…he was the only one who cared.”
The two only stared at her, making the young woman feel as if she were being judged again. This time the so-called `good guys' were doing the judging. Trying to snuggle against the small emergency blanket some more, Kagome shivered hating this just as much. Now she had nothing…what would they do now? Leave her on the streets to do as she wished? Probably. At least when HE was around, she didn't need to worry about where her next meal was coming from, or where she'd sleep for the night. Well…maybe not at night.
“He's going to prison for a very long time so there's no need to worry Ms…?”
Waiting for her to give them her name, she hesitated not sure what to say. Who was she again? Oh…that's right.
“…Higurashi. Higurashi Kagome.”
The Dark.
***
She now sat on the cushion of a hospital bed, it's while cotton lined sheets and clean fragrant scent creating her to swallow sticky spit in anxiousness. Wincing as another stitch was pulled through, Kagome gave a sigh, feeling a sense of comfort. Perhaps `normal' people didn't like being shipped to the hospital for violent attacks, or wouldn't call being stitched up comforting…But to her…this was comfort. And then again, she really wasn't `normal' either. The cheery voice of her nurse, with that little name tag, red cross and bright smile spoke, breaking her from her thoughts.
“Almost done.”
A few moments went by as she looked to the ceiling, trying to catch a glance of the dark black string going in and out in mesmerizing motions against her brow.
“Annnddd, there.”
Going for the small swabs at the side of the bed, the nurse hummed to herself bringing it to the leftover cuts at the base of her lips and chin that were in no need to be stitched.
“Seems like you'll be just fine. A little bit of bruising, but nothing to worry about.”
Bright pearly white teeth shone at her, the curve of the nurses red lips making the young woman want to slap it right off. Kagome couldn't smile. Kagome couldn't smile. No…she couldn't smile. She couldn't smile because her face hurt like hell. She couldn't smile because her soul hurt like it had been sent to hell. Kagome wouldn't smile. There was no reason to. Yet as this happy lady looked at her, she wondered if she was expected to. Kagome hadn't smiled since…that day. That day her world came crashing down, when her gaze had caught the cherry oak of her mothers casket, then the dark black of his eyes. Him, the one man who'd given her these stitches and so much more.
Dodging the whole situation, the young woman diverted her eyes away from the annoying nurse, to the marble white floor, raising a blood stained hand to her swollen face. Wanting to hiss in pain, she took a shaky breath and let her fingers fall.
“Now, now, don't touch it. I'll send you home with some bandages and pain killers.”
Home. How she wished she'd had one now. Her so called `home' was a boarded up drug dealer shack that had its occupants shipped to a maximum security prison…her `escort' probably waiting for her downstairs or in the hallway of this place, so she could go as well. And hopefully…these painkillers would be enough to put her to sleep. Permanently of course.
Not answering the nurse, Kagome fiddled with the hem of her short plaid red skirt, hating how this and her jeans were the only `wardrobe' she had possessed. And now…it was only this slutty outfit she had. Would ever have. The rest of her belongings were still in that crap shack. Yes, still in that duffel bag she'd used the very day she left.
“I'll be back in bit.”
Giving a sigh after a moment of silence, the young woman let her eyes fall to the light pink of her shirt…well what used to be pink anyway. Brown speckles and blotches of dried blood stained the front, its tare down the middle making her blush when suddenly coming to realized it revealed much of her bra and shoulder. Raising tired, sore, weak arms over her chest, Kagome tried conserving what little dignity she had left. Letting her head lower a bit more now, she wondered how many more people she'd disgusted…. Yet at the same time, really didn't care.
Dirty black tendrils of her raven hair tumbled over her shoulders to her collarbone, its soft sensation alien. Tired eyes looked to them with indifference; her sticky tongue slipping from its confines in a futile attempt at unconsciously wetting her dry, parched, blood encrusted lips.
“Here.”
Clean fingers with their well-manicured nails encircled the white coffee cup, its content cool and refreshing, teasing the underside of her nose. Her own, with its dirty digits and cracked, broken nails took it with gratitude as her irises slowly moved up to connect with dark brown eyes. The woman's stoic demeanor matched her pitch-black hair and expressionless gaze, a seemingly heartless look of judgment…all directed towards one person.
“I'm your social worker.”
The light sand color of her business suit, with its flawless, tailored and pressed appearance simply hollered respect. This woman's proof of her superiority in the social hierarchy, showing from the tips of her black dress shoes to the neatly tied bun her hair was pulled into, and even the sound of her voice made the teenager cringe.
“I believe we've met before…have we not, Kagome Higurashi?”
Yes before. How she hated her then, how she hated her now. Perhaps not personally, yet hated all the same. Kagome furrowed her brow when remembering. This woman represented everything in what had helped crush the little hope she had left in the world not so long ago. What helped beat a cheery little boy who once could be called her brother, into a self-loathing stranger whom she'd never know again. It wasn't Souta's fault…it never was. But being torn from his one support beam and shoved into a random home where he was constantly screamed at and hit for nothing…nothing at all…She couldn't blame him. He'd had enough, just like any other human being.
“Kikyo Midoriko…?”
The woman said her name seeming to try and jog the bruised girl's memory. Of course Kagome recalled her…yet this time the teen wasn't the scared wide-eyed little rabbit she'd been back in that cold office.
Lowering her eyes to the white cup again, she lifted it to her mouth and drank acting unfazed by this woman's presence.
“…Your lucky that man didn't kill you.”
Keeping her gaze down, Kagome simply let her scraped finger run over the rim of her Styrofoam cup slowly. A frustrated sigh escaped Kikyo when not receiving a response, her briefcase suddenly appearing out of the corner of Kagome's eye as it was set on the hospital mattress. The click of its shiny silver lock could be heard opening then closing just as quickly, the shuffle of papers drowning any other sound away…then silence.
“…Runaway.”
Clenching her teeth at the flat, unconcerned voice as well as the word itself, Kagome waited listening intently.
“Eight months disappearance,”
Had it only been that long? The young woman raised her eyebrows in surprise. `…More like eight years.'
“Found on Sheridan Street and central by police,”
Closing her eye's Kagome gave a silent sigh.
“…being beat by convicted sex offender Naraku Onigumo.”
Swallowing hard, the young woman fought the urge to burst out in tears. His name…his very name made her stomach churn and mind reel. The social worker, with her cold tone spat out each syllable as if it were infected…diseased. Silence soon resided after that, the burning stare of Kikyo's dark eyes scorching, unnerving but most of all uncomfortable atop Kagome's still downed head, created the teenager to shift and look up.
“This is what happens you know…”
Tear filled, stormy eyes that had seen to much for a sixteen year old fixated on this seemingly perfect businesswoman, asking god for what seemed like the millionth time in her life…Why no one cared. Fisting cut, bruised hands, she turned her gaze downward again…yet this time not in shame.
“You just don't get it.”
A horse, raspy response came from the beaten girl, almost whispered…bland. Kikyo raised a delicately plucked eyebrow narrowing her eyes a bit.
“There's nothing to `get' Kagome. Until you turn 18, I will be responsible for where you reside and running away will not be tolerated. Do you understand?”
The social workers stern voice was like a mechanical demand, heartless and on the verge of crude.
“I only want what's best for you.”
Kagome could've burst out in disbelieving laughter as she stated this, more robotic sounding then the last `reassuring statement' she'd pointed out. If she only had a penny every time she'd heard that…
***
The nights gray sky loomed overhead like a dome, endless all around. The orange glow of streetlights illuminated the clouds above, showing their ugly color as well as the cringe worthy city under their darkness. Icy gusts blew across her bare shoulders; small crystal's landing wetly as they whipped the hair around her brow and collar wildly, her shiver being ignored by the social worker next to her.
They stood outside the hospital, its gloomy presence eerily looming across the parking lot as they waited. A few minutes went by as the gusts of freezing wind pricked against her skin, a sigh of relief escaping her lips when seeing the dark blue van turn the corner with its white lettering: City vehicle.
Kikyo readjusted the large jacket around herself opening the metal door as it stopped next to them. Its creek sounded like a raising guillotine, her dark eyes, darker then the very night now and her chilling expression, colder then the breeze, made the young woman swallow hard. Stepping into the large van, Kagome sat forgetting for a moment that her bruised, cut up face pained her to the very core…only able to let her fear strike as the encompassing darkness surrounded her and the guillotine came down.
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Hentai / Romance / Angst | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 09.25.2005 | Updated On: 02.15.2012 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.1K | Visits: 313 | Status: Work In Progress
~The Dark~
Clutching at the warm blanket around her shoulders she answered softly,
“…yes.”
The officer's voice was rough, demanding, despite his attempts at trying to be gentle in coaxing the young woman to cooperate.
“So he's…forced you.”
Slim fingers shook with each word, her body going rigid and her eye's welling up with tears. Tears that had been shed so many times before, yet only now were being `heard'. Sniffing, she bit her lip shaking her head yes. Pulling petite legs up to sit against her still cold chest, Kagome shifted on the hard cement curb, watching in utmost captivation as blue, red and white flashing lights blinked against the darkness of this deserted back-street. This black, evil, secluded street in where she'd worked so many times before. Worked. This was a job now?
“How did he get you to do this?”
This time the female policeman dressed in her blue-collared shirt with that shiny badge and cold metal gun asked as if it were impossible to believe. Sure…impossible for her maybe.
“…he, I-my…”
Trying to explain such actions to someone like that. How disgusting it must be for them. Someone eyeing your bruised, black and blue face with those nasty cuts that had been split open by numerous blows…it had to be appalling. Reminding herself of that, Kagome didn't bother in brushing back the stray strands of raven black hair that fell in her face when she tilted her head down. Maybe if she did that they couldn't see it…see her.
“M-my mother, she died and…”
The blood from her parched lips was now mingling with the liquid of her tears, each word escaping more meekly then the previous.
“…he was the only one who cared.”
The two only stared at her, making the young woman feel as if she were being judged again. This time the so-called `good guys' were doing the judging. Trying to snuggle against the small emergency blanket some more, Kagome shivered hating this just as much. Now she had nothing…what would they do now? Leave her on the streets to do as she wished? Probably. At least when HE was around, she didn't need to worry about where her next meal was coming from, or where she'd sleep for the night. Well…maybe not at night.
“He's going to prison for a very long time so there's no need to worry Ms…?”
Waiting for her to give them her name, she hesitated not sure what to say. Who was she again? Oh…that's right.
“…Higurashi. Higurashi Kagome.”
The Dark.
***
She now sat on the cushion of a hospital bed, it's while cotton lined sheets and clean fragrant scent creating her to swallow sticky spit in anxiousness. Wincing as another stitch was pulled through, Kagome gave a sigh, feeling a sense of comfort. Perhaps `normal' people didn't like being shipped to the hospital for violent attacks, or wouldn't call being stitched up comforting…But to her…this was comfort. And then again, she really wasn't `normal' either. The cheery voice of her nurse, with that little name tag, red cross and bright smile spoke, breaking her from her thoughts.
“Almost done.”
A few moments went by as she looked to the ceiling, trying to catch a glance of the dark black string going in and out in mesmerizing motions against her brow.
“Annnddd, there.”
Going for the small swabs at the side of the bed, the nurse hummed to herself bringing it to the leftover cuts at the base of her lips and chin that were in no need to be stitched.
“Seems like you'll be just fine. A little bit of bruising, but nothing to worry about.”
Bright pearly white teeth shone at her, the curve of the nurses red lips making the young woman want to slap it right off. Kagome couldn't smile. Kagome couldn't smile. No…she couldn't smile. She couldn't smile because her face hurt like hell. She couldn't smile because her soul hurt like it had been sent to hell. Kagome wouldn't smile. There was no reason to. Yet as this happy lady looked at her, she wondered if she was expected to. Kagome hadn't smiled since…that day. That day her world came crashing down, when her gaze had caught the cherry oak of her mothers casket, then the dark black of his eyes. Him, the one man who'd given her these stitches and so much more.
Dodging the whole situation, the young woman diverted her eyes away from the annoying nurse, to the marble white floor, raising a blood stained hand to her swollen face. Wanting to hiss in pain, she took a shaky breath and let her fingers fall.
“Now, now, don't touch it. I'll send you home with some bandages and pain killers.”
Home. How she wished she'd had one now. Her so called `home' was a boarded up drug dealer shack that had its occupants shipped to a maximum security prison…her `escort' probably waiting for her downstairs or in the hallway of this place, so she could go as well. And hopefully…these painkillers would be enough to put her to sleep. Permanently of course.
Not answering the nurse, Kagome fiddled with the hem of her short plaid red skirt, hating how this and her jeans were the only `wardrobe' she had possessed. And now…it was only this slutty outfit she had. Would ever have. The rest of her belongings were still in that crap shack. Yes, still in that duffel bag she'd used the very day she left.
“I'll be back in bit.”
Giving a sigh after a moment of silence, the young woman let her eyes fall to the light pink of her shirt…well what used to be pink anyway. Brown speckles and blotches of dried blood stained the front, its tare down the middle making her blush when suddenly coming to realized it revealed much of her bra and shoulder. Raising tired, sore, weak arms over her chest, Kagome tried conserving what little dignity she had left. Letting her head lower a bit more now, she wondered how many more people she'd disgusted…. Yet at the same time, really didn't care.
Dirty black tendrils of her raven hair tumbled over her shoulders to her collarbone, its soft sensation alien. Tired eyes looked to them with indifference; her sticky tongue slipping from its confines in a futile attempt at unconsciously wetting her dry, parched, blood encrusted lips.
“Here.”
Clean fingers with their well-manicured nails encircled the white coffee cup, its content cool and refreshing, teasing the underside of her nose. Her own, with its dirty digits and cracked, broken nails took it with gratitude as her irises slowly moved up to connect with dark brown eyes. The woman's stoic demeanor matched her pitch-black hair and expressionless gaze, a seemingly heartless look of judgment…all directed towards one person.
“I'm your social worker.”
The light sand color of her business suit, with its flawless, tailored and pressed appearance simply hollered respect. This woman's proof of her superiority in the social hierarchy, showing from the tips of her black dress shoes to the neatly tied bun her hair was pulled into, and even the sound of her voice made the teenager cringe.
“I believe we've met before…have we not, Kagome Higurashi?”
Yes before. How she hated her then, how she hated her now. Perhaps not personally, yet hated all the same. Kagome furrowed her brow when remembering. This woman represented everything in what had helped crush the little hope she had left in the world not so long ago. What helped beat a cheery little boy who once could be called her brother, into a self-loathing stranger whom she'd never know again. It wasn't Souta's fault…it never was. But being torn from his one support beam and shoved into a random home where he was constantly screamed at and hit for nothing…nothing at all…She couldn't blame him. He'd had enough, just like any other human being.
“Kikyo Midoriko…?”
The woman said her name seeming to try and jog the bruised girl's memory. Of course Kagome recalled her…yet this time the teen wasn't the scared wide-eyed little rabbit she'd been back in that cold office.
Lowering her eyes to the white cup again, she lifted it to her mouth and drank acting unfazed by this woman's presence.
“…Your lucky that man didn't kill you.”
Keeping her gaze down, Kagome simply let her scraped finger run over the rim of her Styrofoam cup slowly. A frustrated sigh escaped Kikyo when not receiving a response, her briefcase suddenly appearing out of the corner of Kagome's eye as it was set on the hospital mattress. The click of its shiny silver lock could be heard opening then closing just as quickly, the shuffle of papers drowning any other sound away…then silence.
“…Runaway.”
Clenching her teeth at the flat, unconcerned voice as well as the word itself, Kagome waited listening intently.
“Eight months disappearance,”
Had it only been that long? The young woman raised her eyebrows in surprise. `…More like eight years.'
“Found on Sheridan Street and central by police,”
Closing her eye's Kagome gave a silent sigh.
“…being beat by convicted sex offender Naraku Onigumo.”
Swallowing hard, the young woman fought the urge to burst out in tears. His name…his very name made her stomach churn and mind reel. The social worker, with her cold tone spat out each syllable as if it were infected…diseased. Silence soon resided after that, the burning stare of Kikyo's dark eyes scorching, unnerving but most of all uncomfortable atop Kagome's still downed head, created the teenager to shift and look up.
“This is what happens you know…”
Tear filled, stormy eyes that had seen to much for a sixteen year old fixated on this seemingly perfect businesswoman, asking god for what seemed like the millionth time in her life…Why no one cared. Fisting cut, bruised hands, she turned her gaze downward again…yet this time not in shame.
“You just don't get it.”
A horse, raspy response came from the beaten girl, almost whispered…bland. Kikyo raised a delicately plucked eyebrow narrowing her eyes a bit.
“There's nothing to `get' Kagome. Until you turn 18, I will be responsible for where you reside and running away will not be tolerated. Do you understand?”
The social workers stern voice was like a mechanical demand, heartless and on the verge of crude.
“I only want what's best for you.”
Kagome could've burst out in disbelieving laughter as she stated this, more robotic sounding then the last `reassuring statement' she'd pointed out. If she only had a penny every time she'd heard that…
***
The nights gray sky loomed overhead like a dome, endless all around. The orange glow of streetlights illuminated the clouds above, showing their ugly color as well as the cringe worthy city under their darkness. Icy gusts blew across her bare shoulders; small crystal's landing wetly as they whipped the hair around her brow and collar wildly, her shiver being ignored by the social worker next to her.
They stood outside the hospital, its gloomy presence eerily looming across the parking lot as they waited. A few minutes went by as the gusts of freezing wind pricked against her skin, a sigh of relief escaping her lips when seeing the dark blue van turn the corner with its white lettering: City vehicle.
Kikyo readjusted the large jacket around herself opening the metal door as it stopped next to them. Its creek sounded like a raising guillotine, her dark eyes, darker then the very night now and her chilling expression, colder then the breeze, made the young woman swallow hard. Stepping into the large van, Kagome sat forgetting for a moment that her bruised, cut up face pained her to the very core…only able to let her fear strike as the encompassing darkness surrounded her and the guillotine came down.
Clutching at the warm blanket around her shoulders she answered softly,
“…yes.”
The officer's voice was rough, demanding, despite his attempts at trying to be gentle in coaxing the young woman to cooperate.
“So he's…forced you.”
Slim fingers shook with each word, her body going rigid and her eye's welling up with tears. Tears that had been shed so many times before, yet only now were being `heard'. Sniffing, she bit her lip shaking her head yes. Pulling petite legs up to sit against her still cold chest, Kagome shifted on the hard cement curb, watching in utmost captivation as blue, red and white flashing lights blinked against the darkness of this deserted back-street. This black, evil, secluded street in where she'd worked so many times before. Worked. This was a job now?
“How did he get you to do this?”
This time the female policeman dressed in her blue-collared shirt with that shiny badge and cold metal gun asked as if it were impossible to believe. Sure…impossible for her maybe.
“…he, I-my…”
Trying to explain such actions to someone like that. How disgusting it must be for them. Someone eyeing your bruised, black and blue face with those nasty cuts that had been split open by numerous blows…it had to be appalling. Reminding herself of that, Kagome didn't bother in brushing back the stray strands of raven black hair that fell in her face when she tilted her head down. Maybe if she did that they couldn't see it…see her.
“M-my mother, she died and…”
The blood from her parched lips was now mingling with the liquid of her tears, each word escaping more meekly then the previous.
“…he was the only one who cared.”
The two only stared at her, making the young woman feel as if she were being judged again. This time the so-called `good guys' were doing the judging. Trying to snuggle against the small emergency blanket some more, Kagome shivered hating this just as much. Now she had nothing…what would they do now? Leave her on the streets to do as she wished? Probably. At least when HE was around, she didn't need to worry about where her next meal was coming from, or where she'd sleep for the night. Well…maybe not at night.
“He's going to prison for a very long time so there's no need to worry Ms…?”
Waiting for her to give them her name, she hesitated not sure what to say. Who was she again? Oh…that's right.
“…Higurashi. Higurashi Kagome.”
The Dark.
***
She now sat on the cushion of a hospital bed, it's while cotton lined sheets and clean fragrant scent creating her to swallow sticky spit in anxiousness. Wincing as another stitch was pulled through, Kagome gave a sigh, feeling a sense of comfort. Perhaps `normal' people didn't like being shipped to the hospital for violent attacks, or wouldn't call being stitched up comforting…But to her…this was comfort. And then again, she really wasn't `normal' either. The cheery voice of her nurse, with that little name tag, red cross and bright smile spoke, breaking her from her thoughts.
“Almost done.”
A few moments went by as she looked to the ceiling, trying to catch a glance of the dark black string going in and out in mesmerizing motions against her brow.
“Annnddd, there.”
Going for the small swabs at the side of the bed, the nurse hummed to herself bringing it to the leftover cuts at the base of her lips and chin that were in no need to be stitched.
“Seems like you'll be just fine. A little bit of bruising, but nothing to worry about.”
Bright pearly white teeth shone at her, the curve of the nurses red lips making the young woman want to slap it right off. Kagome couldn't smile. Kagome couldn't smile. No…she couldn't smile. She couldn't smile because her face hurt like hell. She couldn't smile because her soul hurt like it had been sent to hell. Kagome wouldn't smile. There was no reason to. Yet as this happy lady looked at her, she wondered if she was expected to. Kagome hadn't smiled since…that day. That day her world came crashing down, when her gaze had caught the cherry oak of her mothers casket, then the dark black of his eyes. Him, the one man who'd given her these stitches and so much more.
Dodging the whole situation, the young woman diverted her eyes away from the annoying nurse, to the marble white floor, raising a blood stained hand to her swollen face. Wanting to hiss in pain, she took a shaky breath and let her fingers fall.
“Now, now, don't touch it. I'll send you home with some bandages and pain killers.”
Home. How she wished she'd had one now. Her so called `home' was a boarded up drug dealer shack that had its occupants shipped to a maximum security prison…her `escort' probably waiting for her downstairs or in the hallway of this place, so she could go as well. And hopefully…these painkillers would be enough to put her to sleep. Permanently of course.
Not answering the nurse, Kagome fiddled with the hem of her short plaid red skirt, hating how this and her jeans were the only `wardrobe' she had possessed. And now…it was only this slutty outfit she had. Would ever have. The rest of her belongings were still in that crap shack. Yes, still in that duffel bag she'd used the very day she left.
“I'll be back in bit.”
Giving a sigh after a moment of silence, the young woman let her eyes fall to the light pink of her shirt…well what used to be pink anyway. Brown speckles and blotches of dried blood stained the front, its tare down the middle making her blush when suddenly coming to realized it revealed much of her bra and shoulder. Raising tired, sore, weak arms over her chest, Kagome tried conserving what little dignity she had left. Letting her head lower a bit more now, she wondered how many more people she'd disgusted…. Yet at the same time, really didn't care.
Dirty black tendrils of her raven hair tumbled over her shoulders to her collarbone, its soft sensation alien. Tired eyes looked to them with indifference; her sticky tongue slipping from its confines in a futile attempt at unconsciously wetting her dry, parched, blood encrusted lips.
“Here.”
Clean fingers with their well-manicured nails encircled the white coffee cup, its content cool and refreshing, teasing the underside of her nose. Her own, with its dirty digits and cracked, broken nails took it with gratitude as her irises slowly moved up to connect with dark brown eyes. The woman's stoic demeanor matched her pitch-black hair and expressionless gaze, a seemingly heartless look of judgment…all directed towards one person.
“I'm your social worker.”
The light sand color of her business suit, with its flawless, tailored and pressed appearance simply hollered respect. This woman's proof of her superiority in the social hierarchy, showing from the tips of her black dress shoes to the neatly tied bun her hair was pulled into, and even the sound of her voice made the teenager cringe.
“I believe we've met before…have we not, Kagome Higurashi?”
Yes before. How she hated her then, how she hated her now. Perhaps not personally, yet hated all the same. Kagome furrowed her brow when remembering. This woman represented everything in what had helped crush the little hope she had left in the world not so long ago. What helped beat a cheery little boy who once could be called her brother, into a self-loathing stranger whom she'd never know again. It wasn't Souta's fault…it never was. But being torn from his one support beam and shoved into a random home where he was constantly screamed at and hit for nothing…nothing at all…She couldn't blame him. He'd had enough, just like any other human being.
“Kikyo Midoriko…?”
The woman said her name seeming to try and jog the bruised girl's memory. Of course Kagome recalled her…yet this time the teen wasn't the scared wide-eyed little rabbit she'd been back in that cold office.
Lowering her eyes to the white cup again, she lifted it to her mouth and drank acting unfazed by this woman's presence.
“…Your lucky that man didn't kill you.”
Keeping her gaze down, Kagome simply let her scraped finger run over the rim of her Styrofoam cup slowly. A frustrated sigh escaped Kikyo when not receiving a response, her briefcase suddenly appearing out of the corner of Kagome's eye as it was set on the hospital mattress. The click of its shiny silver lock could be heard opening then closing just as quickly, the shuffle of papers drowning any other sound away…then silence.
“…Runaway.”
Clenching her teeth at the flat, unconcerned voice as well as the word itself, Kagome waited listening intently.
“Eight months disappearance,”
Had it only been that long? The young woman raised her eyebrows in surprise. `…More like eight years.'
“Found on Sheridan Street and central by police,”
Closing her eye's Kagome gave a silent sigh.
“…being beat by convicted sex offender Naraku Onigumo.”
Swallowing hard, the young woman fought the urge to burst out in tears. His name…his very name made her stomach churn and mind reel. The social worker, with her cold tone spat out each syllable as if it were infected…diseased. Silence soon resided after that, the burning stare of Kikyo's dark eyes scorching, unnerving but most of all uncomfortable atop Kagome's still downed head, created the teenager to shift and look up.
“This is what happens you know…”
Tear filled, stormy eyes that had seen to much for a sixteen year old fixated on this seemingly perfect businesswoman, asking god for what seemed like the millionth time in her life…Why no one cared. Fisting cut, bruised hands, she turned her gaze downward again…yet this time not in shame.
“You just don't get it.”
A horse, raspy response came from the beaten girl, almost whispered…bland. Kikyo raised a delicately plucked eyebrow narrowing her eyes a bit.
“There's nothing to `get' Kagome. Until you turn 18, I will be responsible for where you reside and running away will not be tolerated. Do you understand?”
The social workers stern voice was like a mechanical demand, heartless and on the verge of crude.
“I only want what's best for you.”
Kagome could've burst out in disbelieving laughter as she stated this, more robotic sounding then the last `reassuring statement' she'd pointed out. If she only had a penny every time she'd heard that…
***
The nights gray sky loomed overhead like a dome, endless all around. The orange glow of streetlights illuminated the clouds above, showing their ugly color as well as the cringe worthy city under their darkness. Icy gusts blew across her bare shoulders; small crystal's landing wetly as they whipped the hair around her brow and collar wildly, her shiver being ignored by the social worker next to her.
They stood outside the hospital, its gloomy presence eerily looming across the parking lot as they waited. A few minutes went by as the gusts of freezing wind pricked against her skin, a sigh of relief escaping her lips when seeing the dark blue van turn the corner with its white lettering: City vehicle.
Kikyo readjusted the large jacket around herself opening the metal door as it stopped next to them. Its creek sounded like a raising guillotine, her dark eyes, darker then the very night now and her chilling expression, colder then the breeze, made the young woman swallow hard. Stepping into the large van, Kagome sat forgetting for a moment that her bruised, cut up face pained her to the very core…only able to let her fear strike as the encompassing darkness surrounded her and the guillotine came down.