InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Stealing Heaven ❯ Out of Body ( Chapter 39 )

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm very sorry for the huge delay between chapters. I have been finishing my debut YA paranormal novel, Buried (digital release date March 18th, with print release to follow within a week of the digital).   Chapter Thirty-Nine Out of Body She and Myoga—draping the man across their shoulders as though he simply passed out, drunk—managed to lug Sesshomaru back to the medium's apartment. The girl carried the brunt of his weight, fearful of what the strain of such an activity might do to Myoga. It seemed a long while before Kagome was able to catch her breath. An excruciatingly long while, in fact, especially given how much time said lugging took. She felt a bit harried, as though precious minutes ticked away from them, but they had little choice. The powder Myoga used to subdue Nah Rah Ku had an iffy-at-best duration, and waiting for Sango or Miroku to get to them would have wasted even more time. Now, she looked on in a dazed mix of fear and fascination as Myoga erected a circle around Sesshomaru. Should he awaken as Nah Rah Ku during Kagome's search, the boundary would keep the demon from fleeing again; or, more frightening still, from trying to harm either of them. The air was thick with incense, and so many colored pillar candles were lit that it made the entire room a few degrees hotter. She felt lightheaded, her thoughts slipped easily from her grasp, which made her nervous whenever she could keep a notion in her head long enough to realize it. But that was good. She was supposed to feel this way when she began to disconnect. After all, she was attempting to leave her body, for longer than the strolls that she'd taken—around the trippy wonderland that Myoga's apartment complex became in the astral plane—as practice during her previous sessions with the old man. However, the difference between prior exercises and now was that those had been guided meditations. This time, Kagome would be alone. And it was no longer just an exercise. The key, once she was free of her body, would be to focus on the time and place in which Nah Rah Ku was worshiped as a deity. Myoga explained that only on the physical plane, could one not move backward; in the astral realm, however, human consciousness could go anywhere, not bound by time or space. She gave Sesshomaru one, last look. Her gaze traced over the line of his jaw, his lowered eyelids, the mass of his long, silver hair, pooled on the floor beneath his head. Gods, he'd hate that. She stifled a small, giddy chuckle as she thought of how quickly he'd jump to set his hair neatly in order, were he able. This has to work, she thought. Even if . . . . Kagome forced a gulp down her throat, sniffling. Even if he never looked at her the same way again, this had to work. She had to make him whole again. Inhaling deeply, she closed her eyes and willed herself to push beyond her emotional state. She felt her breathing slow, and determinedly pictured the temple cavern in her mind. She would be there. The rich, mossy salt-water scent of the place; the fear that curled in the pit of her stomach the first time she stepped out of the winding tunnel that led to the subterranean shore. How the air felt a bit thick, sort of heavy against her skin, the texture of the temple's stone walls beneath her fingertips. Imagined the sounds of soft, shallow waves crashing lightly off the cave's pocked and pitted sides echoing in her ears; she remembered every single second, every single thing being inside that cavern made her feel. Everything . . . . The weight of it forced a tear from beneath one, closed and fluttering eyelid. These sensations were all too real; too tangible. It could only mean she was already there. Gentle fingers wiped the tear from her cheek. Kagome almost started at the familiarity, almost snapped her eyes open, but not yet. Not yet, he couldn't be here, but somehow . . . . This was all her. She'd managed to drag a fleeting aspect of his consciousness to her. And if she didn't hang onto him for a moment, he'd be whipped away by time, and space, and harsh reality, just as easily. "This is no time for crying" Sesshomaru's voice whispered over her skin, making her shiver a little. "You're not supposed to be here," she said quietly, her words trembling. "It's probably your doing." She tried not to laugh at that. "Probably." In a strange way, this comforted her. That she could draw even then tiniest fragment of him along with her—even if for a mere second—was possible only because of how connected to one another they'd become. "But I'm holding you back." "No," her voice tumbled out, weak, forlorn-sounding. She swore she felt his lips moving gently against her forehead as he spoke. "Yes. And you have to let me go." Kagome wanted to cry all over again—to forget all of this and break down bawling on the spot. "Sesshomaru . . . ?" He gave a short, nearly humorless chuckle. "Please? You have something to do." Ah, she felt silly, now. He was speaking in the moment; she needed to push him aside and focus on the task at hand. "I need to know, first," she ventured, unable to help herself. No matter his answer, she would help him, still, but the longer she held the words, the more deeply rooted her fear became. "Am I . . . am doing this for . . ." she forced another gulp, and then squeaked out the last word, "us?" She felt his lips move, skimming delicately along the side of her face to hover beside her ear. His breath ghosted over her skin. "I can't believe you don't know." Kagome let her eyes open slowly, knowing he was fading. She caught a last, fleeting glimpse of golden skin and silver hair, and then, Sesshomaru was gone, leaving her alone in the cave. Only . . . . Now that he wasn't there distracting her, she heard things, a lot of things. Voices, and shuffling, and the sounds of stone scraping against stone. She was in the deepest recesses of the cavern, near the mass grave, her back to the temple. Reflexively backpedaling until she was away that sad and depressing bit of earth—though common sense told her that she was far in the past, that this wasn't a grave, yet—she repressed a shudder of fear and revulsion. She had prepared herself for how real her surroundings would feel, or she thought she had. It felt so much like she was physically here. But . . . as she turned to face the temple, she saw people . . . . Clad in brightly beaded loincloths, their skin adorned with colorful inks capturing the symbols of their god's name. Nah Ra Ku's people. In a daze, she simply watched them for a few strained, drawn-out moments. They bustled about, bringing food, carrying stones into the temple—three or four men, to each squared hunk of rock. Squinting, she could see the tunnel in the distance. Water filled the winding space at shoulder-height. Well, about her shoulder-height, and she could see more people wading through the entrance, carrying food and other items atop their heads. She was almost afraid to venture any closer, but she would never learn anything from over here. She only hoped Nah Ra Ku wouldn't detect her presence. Oh, she reminded herself, even if he did, at this point in time, he would not know her, He would have no idea who she was, or what she was doing there. Somehow, that didn't calm her very much. And then she saw him. The Thief of Bliss, in the flesh. Her breath rushed out of her lungs. Tall, with fair, chiseled skin, long ebony hair that hung down his back in loose waves, and bright crimson eyes; he was . . . beautiful. Just like in that deliciously sinful dream months ago. He was also a controlling, life-draining demon who'd seduced her, stolen her virginity and wanted to permanently inhabit the body of the man she loved! That was all the pep-talk Kagome needed. Taking a steadying breath, she steeled her nerves and forced her legs into motion. She would do this. She could do this! Nodding determinedly, she felt a more secure with each step that she would be alright. And then one of the workers stumbled, running right into her. . . . Right through her. A chill passed through her as the man's energy slid through hers; it felt like someone pressing an icy palm against her skin on a warm day. She spun on her heel instantly, watching the worker. He shuddered violently for a moment, rubbing his hands along his arms as he turned, wearily eyeing the place where he'd crashed through her. Frowning and shaking his head, he bent to retrieve the bundle of textiles he dropped and continued up toward the temple steps. Breathing heavily for a moment as realization settle over her, Kagome lifted her hands in front of her face, wiggling her fingers before her eyes. "Oh, gods, I'm a ghost here!" She understood now what she'd felt when she first wandered through the jungle. Like she'd been here before. Because she was here, now, in a form that wasn't bound by space, or time. Oh, she would never get the hang of this nonlinear-time thing, she was certain. "Lyka!" A man's voice cut straight into her worries, creating an entirely new one as that name alone set off a sickening twist in the pit of her stomach. The one who'd spoken walked up to stand beside the Demon. He was a youngish man, but he held himself proudly. From his countenance, and the plume of feathers adorning his head, she guessed he was the Thief's long lost priest. He called the name again, and from behind the bend of the temple wall came running a little girl. Kagome almost couldn't make sense of what she was seeing. A tiny, adorable, chubby-cheeked creature who's long, black hair swished with her steps, bounded up and took the priest's hand . . . . She smiled brighter than the sun as she looked from her father's face to Nah Ra Ku and back again. The little thing couldn't have been more than seven years old. The enormous, jet eyes Kagome recognized all too well, but at this moment, she felt her heart breaking. Those eyes held none of the sick, twisted malice of the Lyka she'd come to know and fear. No. Right now, at this already long-passed moment in time, the soul Kagome glimpsed inside Lyka's eyes was the most tragically pure thing she'd ever seen. "Oh . . . how terribly they broke you," she whispered, her voice trembling with the unexpected tears she held in. The little girl's head whirled around, her curious gaze landing on Kagome. She spoke to the priest. The words slowly translated, sorting themselves out for Kagome in some bizarre, spiritual, universal language. And, as she listened, Kagome realized she could understand every word spoken around her. "Father," the little girl had said, never once blinking a she looked Kagome in the eyes, "there's a spirit here."                     ;