InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Edge of Resistance ❯ Our Elixirs ( Chapter 2 )

The Edge of Resistance

Book One: The Dreaming World

 

Chapter Two: Our Elixirs

 

 

“But then,” thought Alice. “Shall I never get any older than I am now? That'll be a comfort, one way--never to be an old woman--but then--always to have lessons to learn!” - Lewis Carroll

 

***

 

 

Sesshoumaru regarded the departure of Kagura and Kohaku with his regular air of unconcern. Unlike certain other individuals in our tale, Sesshoumaru was capable of recognizing patterns when he saw them; it was only that they did not trouble him as much, in part because of the horizon-less nature of his life.

 

“Well?” Inuyasha leveled his sword and glared at his brother, ignoring the evidence of his companions' despair. “Are you coming at me? Or did you just want to stand there while I cut you to pieces?”

 

Sesshoumaru did not even glance in his direction, but turned and walked away.

 

“Hey!” Inuyasha's tone was indignant. “Where the hell do you think you're going? I'm talking to you!”

 

“Inuyasha,” Kagome said in a tired, but ominous tone. “SIT!”

 

Sesshoumaru left them behind without another word and without looking back. The demon lord's reasons for doing or saying anything were a complete mystery to everyone who knew him (and these were few). It was never entirely clear why he (apparently) detested his brother so strongly. No one knew precisely why he (supposedly) aimed to destroy Naraku. Perhaps the biggest mystery of them all was the (assumed) revival of the young human girl, Rin, who was now (evidently) one of his few companions.

 

The truth was Sesshoumaru considered the life of the monster Naraku to be a thing he had not gotten around to crushing under his heel, like the silverfish found in the bath in his home. The fact that at least several years had passed (maybe more—he didn't keep very good track of time) since he had resolved to kill the wretched degenerate (his customary name for Naraku) simply did not impress him, because for Sesshoumaru time stretched out in an altogether different way. Sesshoumaru was like the rock that took the beating of the sea and never wore down. He would outlast them all.

 

Thus, on this occasion, without attempting to follow his enemy or deal with his brother, he went home. Why? It's anyone's guess.

 

Sesshoumaru's lands consisted of vast acres left to him by his father, which lay to the southwest, near the shores of Toutoumi. The land began at a flat coast with many inlets, gentle beaches and deep harbor waters that were dark and cold. The wide and lazy Tenryu flowed from far away mountains, cutting many valleys and snaking across the expansive coastal plain, finally meeting the sea off to the northwest in a wide maze of marshes. The green, mild slopes that swept away from this plain and up to the foothills ended in the mountain range Shikoku. The taller, jagged peaks of the Hakusan were a faint blue in the distance.

 

The Hyouden (which properly is the name for the lands but has come to mean the actual house) stood nestled against a steep cliff facing the plains, and the Tenryu River, to the north. In truth, it was not quite large enough to be called a palace (it was called that more because of the majesty of its inhabitant), but its position against the rock wall made the north face appear to tower above the Fields of Eternal Snow.

 

Sesshoumaru did not staff his palace, if you will allow the word, with the various assortments of servants that so pleased other lords. That many people underfoot would only annoy him and he would inevitably get peevish, leading to several luckless souls losing life and limb, not necessarily in that order. Since he did not need anything, he had decided long, long ago that he was better off alone.

 

And alone he would be, solitude in its perfection. That is, if certain individuals had not insisted on attaching themselves to him, recently in his life.

 

When Sesshoumaru first encountered Jaken, the little imp was well on his way to becoming brunch for some random demon, more girth than brains. By the time of our story, Sesshoumaru could no longer recall what that demon looked like. He had cut the demon down for no other reason than because it refused to step aside.

 

Unfortunately for the would-be-Jaken-eater, Sesshoumaru was particularly peevish that day.

 

Without hesitation, Jaken insisted on becoming the demon lord's servant, dogging his steps and pleading, cajoling, and flattering in a wailing, piteous clamor. The puny creature seemed quite overwhelmed by Sesshoumaru's presence. On several occasions, Sesshoumaru considered curing the toad's affliction with a slash of his claws, but he never quite got around to it. Before long, the presence of the small demon was like the presence of the sky. He figured he'd never had an attendant before, perhaps it would be convenient.

 

So far, it had not shown itself to be all that convenient. But it was not a hindrance either, so he allowed the situation to continue.

 

The matter of Rin was much more strange. No one knew what possessed him to use his legendary sword to revive the human girl, after wolves had killed her, and afterwards he never spoke of it. He allowed her to stay with him because he was convinced, rather glumly, that only physical violence would dissuade her. Sesshoumaru was ruthless, but he did not cut down little girls. The thought of Rin's blood on his hands made him feel strangely sick, and he decided to believe it was because to cut down such a tiny, helpless creature would be grossly beneath him.

 

What if it was someone else doing it? Would that then be any less acceptable? That never occurred to him, or perhaps it did, but he preferred to not think about it.

 

Sometimes, the notion that this girl had somehow overthrown him caused him some momentary consternation. But he preferred to not think about that either.

 

That was how Sesshoumaru's life had become what it was in the summer of 1496. It was a three-day journey to his palace from the ravine where he had encountered the wind sorceress and the boy-puppet—or at least it would be for anyone else. Sesshoumaru arrived home before breakfast the next day. His home was the perfect picture of order and structure it had always been. Jaken and Rin greeted him in the usual fashion, appearing for the entire world that they had waited in pristine array in that very spot the entire length of his absence. He occasionally wondered how they truly lived while he was away, but always abandoned the thought rather quickly, since it did not concern him.

 

 

It concerned Jaken however. The “adoption” of the girl Rin had forever changed his life. In truth, Rin was not a child of this world. She had been raised among a family of traveling peddlers who had succumbed in the end to the terrors of the night. Far from giving in herself however, Rin had simply moved on without them. It was not because she experienced no sorrow, for indeed she and sorrow were deep friends, but because she had chosen not to trouble herself about death. Thus, life among immortals seemed perfectly natural to her. She reached adolescence in a magnificent innocence, completely unburdened by any passionate feelings whatsoever.

 

Though he would deny it with vehemence, Jaken had come to care for the girl, if for no other reason than prolonged companionship and a common bond. With the years flying by, he tried in his own fumbling, ignorant way to prepare her for adult life in the world; or at least what he imagined it to be among humans. He anticipated that Sesshoumaru would expect her to leave upon reaching a marriageable age. On what information he based this assumption there is no way to know.

 

“Your husband and his family will expect much from you,” he said to her once over laundry. “Things will not always be skipping around barefoot in the grass you know. There is a lot of work, and you have to keep working even when you're tired, because you will have children to worry about.”

 

He was wasting his time, because Rin cared only for the comfort of her lord and was completely inclined to indolence if she had no direction from him. What was more, she could not imagine her life without him.

 

The most exasperating thing about her was that she had no love for convention, or even regular habits. She ate whenever she was hungry and wherever in the house the air was most comfortable. She would sometimes rise before dawn and amuse herself until lunch by making crowns of daisies, stepping on the silverfish in the baths, or by moving things about when Jaken's back was turned. On other occasions, she would keep an interminable vigilance over the stars and sleep until mid-afternoon. Eventually, Jaken gave up entirely on ever turning her into a useful woman.

 

When Sesshoumaru was at home however, things were different. Rin's attention always became wholly absorbed in his pleasure. She made sure that there were warm meals (she could never fully accept that he did not need to eat), clean dishes, swept floors, and crisp sheets. Always amazed, Jaken would watch the girl go from indulgent sloth one minute, to obsessing over spotted china the next. And since she wanted to be with Sesshoumaru to the greatest extent possible while he was home, she would slip seamlessly into a habit of early rising and regular meals.

 

It was only in the quiet watches of the night that Jaken had any peace. At these times, he would often think about his home, left far behind, and their future, ever unclear to him. Though loath to admit it, he feared for Rin. What sort of creature would she become, alone in a bemused dawn of adulthood? She had no companions, no skills, and no prospects. He considered broaching the subject with his lord, but something always held him back.

 

When Sesshoumaru returned home this time, both Jaken and Rin could tell that things had not gone well. Years of living with the icy prince of the West had taught them to read the minute danger signals that others would never notice. They did not dare inquire about Naraku's current state of health. It was their first meal together in weeks, and they ate in total silence. That is, they ate and Sesshoumaru sipped sake out of what they could only guess was some obscure notion of tradition.

 

After a short time, Jaken could tell that Rin was finished eating by the way she was pushing her food around on her plate and staring dreamily into space. He scowled at her fuzzy-headedness and gathered the clinking plates into a pile.

 

“Jaken,” his lord's voice was a smooth knife. “We will depart again in the morning.”

 

Sesshoumaru never gave a reason for sometimes taking them with him and other times leaving them behind. He did not explain and they did not ask. Rin leapt to her feet and could not contain an outburst of joy. She almost made a move to hug Sesshoumaru but remembered his distaste for closeness. Instead, she gave a low bow and rushed off to pack a small bag.

 

 

The very next morning, before the sun had peeked over the sea, the trio was well on their way. The grass was wet with dew but, because it was July, it was already quite warm.

 

Rin loved summer mornings. Everything was alive and busy making preparation for another day. She bounded along the path (with what Jaken thought was an overly childish abandon for someone her age), singing silly songs and chattering about what she saw. Sesshoumaru seemed largely indifferent to her noise and although Jaken was normally quick to tell her to be quiet, this morning he was inclined to let her go. It was too early for the hassle anyway.

 

“My Lord,” Jaken started with caution. “Might I be so bold as to inquire where we are headed?”

 

One never knew if Sesshoumaru would answer a question, ignore a question, or bonk you on the head.

 

“South,” came the generous response.

 

---

 

Why does it always end up like this?

 

Inuyasha and his companions were moving south-southwest on a leisurely road that followed the long gentle slope of the land down to the coast. Little had remained of the encounter in the ravine, except for the scars left on the earth by Tessaiga. Dawn had broken, and Kagome's legs trembled with exhaustion. She noted with some bitterness that the frequency of sleepless nights did not mean she was any more accustomed to them. She knew this road well, and mused that it could be any time of any day from the last few years of her life and it would not matter. They all looked and felt indistinguishable.

 

Despite their exhaustion they had passed several villages without stopping. None of them mentioned it, but they all shared a sense of anxiousness to return to Kaede. The gentle but robust woman had a way of making them feel secure. It did not seem strange to them to quit their journey and go “home”, to give no further thought, for the moment, to the pursuit of Naraku.

 

Kagome gazed at the crystalline beauty of the dawn but took no pleasure in it. Instead, she imagined telling the seething dog-demon that she meant to return home through the well almost as soon as they reached Edo.

 

The most recent appearance of his less-than-lovable brother had left Inuyasha in a foul mood. But every encounter with either Naraku or Sesshoumaru had that effect. The scarlet-clad half-demon was currently fuming several yards in front of the rest of them. Kagome had made a few fairly feeble attempts at placating him after the whole “sit” affair, but in truth she felt she had done what was best at the time, and if he wanted to sulk about it, that was his problem.

 

When they crested the precipitous hill that overlooked the tiny village cradled by the shallow stream, she faced the facts. There was no sense in starting the worst of it in Kaede's hut. She squared her shoulders and approached him with care.

 

“Inuyasha,” she began sweetly.

 

Inuyasha was in no mood for sweet. He did not even look at her. She began walking beside him, trying to keep up with his brisk pace. Their companions had already read the warning signs and were subtly increasing the distance between the pair and themselves.

 

“Listen,” she began. “I know you're not going to like it, but I have to go home for a little while. But I promise I'll be back in a day or so.” She laughed a little, which she frequently did when she was uncomfortable or unhappy.

 

The response was more cordial than usual.

 

Inuyasha turned on her in the middle of the road, fists clenched at his sides and eyes baleful.

 

“I don't give a damn what you do, stupid bitch!” he shouted.

 

Things went downhill rather rapidly at that point.

 

Kagome knew that he shouted at her and called her names because he could not attack the people he truly wanted to attack. That did not stop her, however, from using him in the same manner. Before they even had enough time to raise their voices with real gusto, Miroku, Sango, and Shippou had already made a hasty and prudent withdrawal. They made their way with determination to the comfort of Kaede's small, thatched house.

 

All in all, it could have been a nice, satisfying little fight. But the unease of feeling trapped in the endless cycles of their enemy, combined with Inuyasha's useless brooding over Kikyou, made them both too distracted to give their insults a decent edge. It quickly degraded into a tedious repetition of “stupid asshole” and “useless wench” that bounced off the surrounding hills until finally, both disgusted with trying to get in the last word, they threw up their arms and stalked away.

 

Kaede, who always seemed to know when they were coming, had meals already laid out for all of them. The friends not preoccupied with childish name-calling were able to sit down in her hut to eat in peace. For the most part, their breakfast was a mirror of a ritual being practiced at that very moment in the Hyouden. They ate in silence. Inuyasha returned only to gobble down his food, and then stalked outside again.

 

None of the travelers felt inclined to describe the incident of the previous night (or early morning) to Kaede. It was too much for them to revisit the weight of inevitability so heavy with hopelessness. Sadly, they did not need to say anything.

 

After they had finished their meals, each member withdrew in their own fashion to their accustomed solitude. It was not that they were always antisocial with each other. After most encounters with their enemy, however, they were inclined more often than not to nurse their own personalized wounds in private.

 

When Kaede saw that Inuyasha and his friends would be staying in her hut for the night, she immediately set to work preparing places for them to bed. Despite the lengthening years and her tendency to portliness, and throughout the constant nuisance of crickets and insomnia, Kaede flitted about the corners of her hut setting tasks to completion with the tenacity of an ant.

 

After spending most of the day in meditation and domestic chores, Sango, Miroku, and Shippou attempted to bed down early in Kaede's hut, while Inuyasha slept outside, as was his custom. They were exhausted, but nonetheless their minds could not leave the matter of the events in the ravine alone. Sango fell into the dark thoughts that always awaited her at night, concerning her fate and that of her brother. Miroku was unable to overcome the choking feeling of being trapped in his own skin. He felt such an incredible need to reach out from…

 

But he could not figure out where he was imprisoned.

 

To make matters worse, the July night was oppressive. The air outside was electrified with heat and with the songs of toads, all contained by a forced stillness that seemed ready to explode. Lying on grass mats and covered only in the lightest linens, Sango and Miroku both lay stewing in their restless frustration. They became obsessed with the notion that everyone else could hear the wheels turning in their heads.

 

Unable to bear it any longer, Sango threw off her sheet, which was weighted with her sweat, and walked outside into the night. She was intent on going down into the stream to bathe, or at least to soak her hair, anything to cool her agitation. Predictably, Miroku rose to follow her. At first she was annoyed, but then she decided that it was too hot and uncomfortable to be annoyed. If he insisted on coming along, she would only soak her hair.

 

Miroku caught up to her. “Sango,” he asked once he had fallen in step beside her, “is something wrong?”

 

“No,” she tried not to reveal her agitation. “Nothing. I couldn't sleep. I'm going down to the river.”

 

“Why?”

 

“To make a hole in it!” she snapped.

 

“I'll join you then,” he replied coolly, looking her in the eye. They were silent for a moment.

“Miroku,” her voice was firm. “I'm only going to soak my hair, that's all. There won't be any more skin than you see now.”

 

Miroku's face assumed a shocked, innocent expression. “Sango!”

 

“Whatever.”

 

Twenty minutes later, the two of them were sitting on deep, lush grass watching the fireflies perform their mysterious dance above the surface of the placid waters. Sango did feel a little better. There was a nice breeze out on the hilltops. Still, she felt that returning to the hut would be a mistake.

 

Miroku, for his part, was completely relaxed. To his way of thinking, nothing could be finer than a summer night under the stars, with a lovely maiden for company. So when Sango began a conversation, he let his guard down a bit more than perhaps he should have.

 

Was it not remarkable that her simple and quiet companionship had banished, or at least eased, his burden of anxiety and loneliness? Alas that he did not think about it.

 

“Miroku,” she asked, “do you think Kagome and Inuyasha will ever be happy?”

 

Miroku twirled a clover blossom between his fingers. “I don't know,” he answered after a moment. “But I doubt it.”

 

“What do you think will happen to them?”

 

“I don't know actually,” Miroku mused, gazing at Sango's delicate feet, “but they won't stop acting the way they do until something forces them to change. They care about each other, but there's nothing they can do about it. There's no future in it.”

 

“Hmm,” Sango sighed. “Perhaps you're right. It's very sad.”

 

Miroku shrugged. “I don't know, I think they enjoy it.”

 

Sango sat upright. “What's that supposed to mean?” she demanded.

 

“Well…” Miroku fumbled for the words, unaware of the change in his companion's tone. “It gives them something to think about besides Naraku. And they're both so used to suffering in this fashion. Love does that to people sometimes.”

 

“Oh? And how is that?” Now Sango's voice had a definite edge to it, but he still failed to pick up the signal. In truth he was trying too hard not to think, and he was paying scant attention to the conversation at hand.

 

“Well I mean,” he crashed on. “It messes with their heads. Makes them behave irrational and crazy. It's like a disease.”

 

“What a fascinating observation.”

 

He even missed that one.

 

“Yeah, I'm glad you're not like other wo—” before he could finish, Sango's towel landed on his face with a wet, forceful smack.

 

“You know something, monk?” she was now standing beside him with her hands on her hips. “Sometimes you make me positively sick!”

 

With a huff and a stamp of her small (and lovely) foot, she turned away and stalked back towards the hut.

 

Miroku lifted the towel-turned-missile and pivoted himself around on his elbows to stare after her in amazement. “What did I say?”

 

She ignored him.

 

Inuyasha heard the entire exchange from his perch on Kaede's roof. He suppressed a powerful urge to shake all of them by the scruff of the neck. Howling idiotically at the moon also sounded like a fine idea, in his near-crazed frustration. Why weren't they getting anywhere? Why did he feel like he was mindlessly chasing and nipping at his own tail?

 

Is this it? Am I just going to keep running in circles like a confused bug until Naraku finally steps on me?

 

These questions bothered him like a constant ringing in his ears and made him irritable. He hadn't been that angry with Kagome for “sitting” him, he was used to that by now. He had only picked a fight with her to vent the frustration left in the wake of his enemy, and it had not worked out as well as he would have liked. He fidgeted a bit with his sword to get comfortable and then crossed his arms and closed his eyes. After swatting a few of the braver mosquitoes that landed on his neck, he sighed dejectedly.

 

He heard his mother's voice in his head. Go to sleep, Inuyasha.

 

It seemed there would be little sleep that night.

 

---

 

Five hundred years later, Kagome opened the door to her mother's home and stepped into the kitchen. It was late morning and the house was vacant. The silence pressed in all around her. It was like an empty concert hall and the small sounds that normally no one notices were greatly exaggerated. The ticking of clocks, the white hum of the refrigerator, the whisper of the highways; all these things felt surreal to Kagome at first, and they intruded into her mind like painful needles.

 

Is this the home planet? Am I the alien?

 

The ticking reminded her of an old, recurring vision, a daydream that stuck in her mind because she obsessed over it without trying to. What she needed was a bomb. She couldn't help but believe it. A sudden, rending, tearing explosion that would wipe everything away from the surface of the earth, like the giant hand of God, so deliciously irrevocable.

 

A wake-up bomb. Somehow, that…well, that would just fix everything.

 

She had not been in the house long when she heard sounds from the front door that signaled her family's return. Kagome did not announce her presence right away, but sat still in the family room. She listened to the noise of her relatives, so normal in their chatter and their footsteps, doors closing, and keys rattling. Kagome enjoyed these moments, because inside of them her family could be truly seen (or heard), before they put on their “Kagome” faces. She listened with greed to fragments of conversation, picking up “mop”, “soap”, and “bread”.

 

Kagome sat still and imagined that she was a ghost, reveling in the signs of the living, of a past life. She shook the thoughts away when she heard their footfalls in the adjacent room, in the kitchen, and she rose to her feet.

 

“Hey,” she called, “I'm home.”

 

Her mother came into the dining room with a look of joy, and surprise. The surprise hurt Kagome a bit. She had, after all, promised emphatically that she would be home in time for lunch on this date.

 

“Kagome,” she smiled and embraced her. “I'm so glad. We were hoping you'd be here.”

 

Souta also embraced her, cracking her case of separateness, a tiny bit.

 

“We have everything we need,” he said in his warbling, teenage voice. “I picked out the fish myself. Hope you like it.”

 

Kagome kissed his cheek. “I'm sure I will.”

 

She tried to remember how to behave like a normal person, but once again she had to choke back the tears that always clouded her vision when she saw how tall he had grown. When she was away, he seemed to shrink in her mind's eye; back to the boy he was when she first met Inuyasha.

 

Her mother and grandfather both looked a little older, and she let herself believe for a moment that this house was the only place where time was real.

 

After lunch with her family, Kagome changed and left for the diner on the corner, where she had promised to meet her old friends from high school. How she had managed to hold on to these friends over the years, despite being almost constantly absent and unreliable, she could not even guess. She was pretty sure however, that it was more about their resilient stubbornness than anything she had done.

 

Her body was screaming for sleep. Since the last time she had slept, she had traveled a dozen leagues, faced several demonic enemies, almost killed her best friend's brother (who had almost killed her), traveled back the dozen leagues, spent a restless night in anger and anxiety, and jumped through time again. Then there was the family lunch during which she had to maintain all of the countless fictions with which she had surrounded herself. She was hammered by exhaustion and by the cruel sun.

 

She looked up from studying her feet on the sidewalk to see her friends waving for her attention from the diner window. When she peered through the window, however, she noticed with a start that she saw the reflection of other people on the street but not her own. Kagome shook her head. She told herself that it was a side effect of her exhaustion.

 

Her friends had changed and, at least outwardly, Kagome had not. To the eyes of Yuka, Eri, and Ayumi, she still appeared before them in the same bemused and distracted state; still burdened with the same sense of otherness. They chatted about unimportant matters over a meal of cheeseburgers and cokes (Kagome had already eaten, so she only had a milkshake), while their old friend dodged the issues that most people shared with their friends. It was like the old days, sans uniforms.

 

All three of the girls had decent jobs in the city; Ayumi was an executive assistant, Eri was a nurse, and Yuka was a paralegal. They told Kagome about their mean or cute bosses and their funny or smelly co-workers.

 

“So, Kagome,” Ayumi asked cautiously. “How are things going with you? Are you looking for work?”

 

Kagome idly moved the straw in and out of her double chocolate shake with chocolate sprinkles and listened to it squeak. Her tone was distant.

 

“No, not,” she answered, not bothering to explain or come up with anything else to say.

 

After the meal, the little foursome decided to go to the star festival. Kagome hoped that the lavish atmosphere of the celebration would distract her friends from herself. Her friends hoped that the smear of greasy food and the haze of hanging lanterns would mask their discomfort in her presence. But the joys of tanabata were lost on them, because they walked in a numbed, awkward silence. Kagome was too far away to even notice the problem she had become.

 

When they found themselves in the area where people were pinning wishes to bamboo trees however, Kagome could not resist. She wrote on her tanzaku her most desperate wish, the one she kept in her mental file cabinets under the label “if all else fails”. Yuka, always observant and a little sneaky, managed to catch a peek at it. She said nothing and looked away.

 

They stood around in idle awkwardness for a few minutes, not knowing what to do next but feeling that to leave would somehow be inappropriate. It was Ayumi, naturally, who tried to perk them all up.

 

“Why don't we go to the fortune tellers?”

 

Her companions reacted with dampened enthusiasm.

 

“Aww, come on,” Ayumi cajoled them. “It'll be fun. We can ask if our wishes will come true.”

 

Yuka glanced at Kagome to see if she could read an expression, but Kagome's small mouth lifted in a slight smile and her eyes remained inscrutable. Eri pushed her shoulder-length hair out of her eyes and wiped her brow.

 

“Anything is better than just standing here in this sun,” she murmured.

 

“It's settled then,” Ayumi said.

 

Before Kagome and Yuka had a chance to say anything, they were all making their way to the booths where women draped in ridiculous costumes huddled over ragged cards and sweaty palms. A few people were selling good luck charms and potions for everything from aches and pains, to unrequited love, to profitable business deals.

 

The area was permeated with a musky, animal-like odor and was surprisingly dark. With each step that dark grew greater. Kagome noticed that this area of the festival was rather remote from the rest of the celebration. A strange fearfulness grew within her, but she could not think of a good reason for it. She told herself to relax.

 

This is not the feudal era, she thought, there isn't going to be a demon on the other side of that table.

 

Kagura was not going to swoop down from the clouds. Sesshoumaru would not appear without warning or explanation with that dreadful sword of his.

 

Chill out.

 

But this did not help the feeling recede. Instead, her fear merged with a heavy hatred. Kagome noticed with a new terror that the noise of the festival had died down. She looked around in surprise and saw that people were starting to draw away from her. She thought that they were leaving for home for the night. The darkness was now everywhere and she somehow knew that the moon and stars were shining, though she could not see them through a strange, orange-lit fog.

 

She was starting to panic. The earth was giving way beneath her; the same way it did when she jumped into the well.

 

Oh no! She panicked, what if I cross over right here in front of everyone? Do I even know I need the well? What if I can't control it?

 

But then someone grabbed her arm. She turned to find herself face to face with Eri. The usually calm face of the young woman was pale and marked with concern. She regarded Kagome with the eye of asylum warden.

 

“Kagome! Kagome!” Eri was almost shouting her name. “What in the world is the matter with you?”

 

Kagome looked around. The fair was bustling around her. Polychromatic lights danced in the warm night breezes. No one seemed to notice her distress except her friends.

 

Oh that's even better, now I'm just going crazy.

 

She caught Yuka's eyes studying her, with an expression of dread and fear.

 

“I'm sorry,” Kagome gave a nervous laugh. “I wasn't thinking, that's all. I…I'm fine.”

 

“Maybe we should take you home,” Yuka suggested in a hushed tone.

 

“No, don't be silly,” Kagome raised her hands and smiled. “I'm fine...”

 

“I don't think so,” Yuka's tone indicated that she had already decided. “It's getting late anyway. Come on, we'll walk you home.”

 

The other two girls looked a trifle concerned, and a little disappointed, but they did not say anything. The group of friends left the fair and walked back to Kagome's neighborhood without speaking.

 

Now it actually was getting dark. The lights of the festival were glittering behind them, in a great show of gaiety that could never reach the girls. Kagome was once again turned in on herself. She was convinced that she was going insane and, in a small way, she welcomed her fate. Maybe they would lock her away in a lovely facility that would be absolutely demon-free. No dog demons or half demons or wind demons or even fox demons. No demon slayers, demon-cursed monks, demon swords or demons locked away in jewels. Some place nice with green Jell-O and fluorescent lights that hummed like angels.

 

Someone roughly grabbed her by the arm and broke her reverie. In a bemused for, she wondered why Eri was doing that again. She looked up and let out a surprised exclamation. It wasn't Eri, or any of her friends. The face was strange. It took her a moment to realize that an elderly woman wrapped in a shawl, who was staring at her in consternation, had seized her.

 

I must have bumped into her, she thought. Kagome started to mumble an apology, but was interrupted.

 

“What are you doing here?” the old woman demanded, her eyes angry. She even shook the arm she had taken possession of. “You're not supposed to be here!”

 

Kagome stared at her captor in wide-eyed imbecility. “What?” She shook her head and started to pull away. “I don't…”

 

“You're not fooling anybody, leastways not me,” the old woman told her in a grating voice. “I know what you are!”

 

Something in the tone of that statement seemed to shock Kagome sane for a moment. She peered closer at the woman. Then her eyes widened again in amazement when she detected the faint, metallic tingle of a demonic aura.

 

“Oh god!” She pulled away violently this time, causing the old woman to stumble and fall back on the sidewalk. Kagome's friends cried out in amazement. They had watched the exchange in a stupor, but now they clamored to help the woman to her feet.

 

“Kagome!” Yuka whirled around. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

 

Kagome's eyes hardened, making Yuka stopped short. Kagome drew herself up and announced in the tone of a drill sergeant: “I have to go home. You should go home too. And stay away from that woman.”

 

Her friends started to protest, but Kagome had already turned her back on them and made her way resolutely up the stone steps to her family's shrine.

 

For a moment, Yuka stared in amazement after the girl she thought she knew. Then she remembered the old woman and she turned back to the street. But the strange crone was gone. Eri and Ayumi looked around in confusion. They had not seen her depart either.

 

There was nothing to do but go home.

 

The three old classmates shared an apartment in the city. It was an arrangement born of both pleasure and convenience. They never discussed it, but they all knew better than to offer that arrangement to Kagome. The girls walked back home, less than half a mile away, and realized once again how wise that decision had been. Their old friend seemed plagued with an unfortunate strangeness, and in secret they were glad that they did not have to live with it on a constant basis. Still, they reflected on another failed outing with the strange shrine-girl and their thoughts were melancholy. They walked along in silence, watching the orange glow from the streetlights dance along beside them on the damp pavement.

 

Yuka was the first to speak.

 

“I peeked and I saw Kagome's wish,” she confessed in a low whisper, afraid that someone else might hear about her sneakiness. “The one she pinned to the tree.”

 

Eri and Ayumi were not shocked, nor did they protest the invasion of that sacred privacy. Instead, they braced themselves.

 

“What was it?” It was Ayumi who was brave enough to ask the question.

 

“To not die alone.”

***

 

[End of Chapter 2]

[Next chapter: Our Boundaries]