InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Edge of Resistance ❯ Our Frailty ( Chapter 4 )

The Edge of Resistance

Book One: The Dreaming World

 

 

Chapter 5: Our Frailty

 

 

“I've always been the coward;I never know what's good for me.

Here I go, don't let me go,

Hold me down!” - Kate Bush

 

***

 

 

A woman who in all her life had never been heard to sing, as hard and fragile as her namesake, Sango was alone.

 

She was introverted by nature, and she devoted herself with decided care to her memories. She had become convinced long ago that if she forgot one day of her youth spent with Kohaku or one hair on her father's head, she would lose them forever. Then Naraku would be in a position to defeat her over and over again.

 

Therefore, she remembered with crystal clarity another night long ago when Naraku had used Kohaku to get to Kagome. She remembered how Kohaku attacked Kagome in the woods, and how Inuyasha had stopped Sango from killing her own brother, before none other than Kagura came to take him away.

 

There were a few differences this time, to be sure. In the first place, the night seemed to merge past events, where Kohaku had attacked Kagome on one and almost been killed by Sesshoumaru on another. Also, this time, instead of stopping her from doing it, Inuyasha had been the one more likely to kill her luckless brother. This change was not lost on Sango, and she interpreted it as a sign that Inuyasha, who was so strong, was nonetheless wearing down under the endless cycles. She was being hammered away by the implacable cruelty of that same machine. As she watched the half-demon pacing near Kaede's hut, throwing hateful glances at the rising sun, she knew she would never have been able to blame him. A secret part of her admitted she might have been grateful.

 

At any rate, it all ended the same. The inscrutable demoness flew off with her brother, and she was no closer to ending Naraku's assault on her memories than she had been on that dark night in the forest long ago.

 

Sango was alone. Alone in her grief, alone in her strength, alone in her passive acknowledgement of death. No amount of loyalty or devotion or firm friendship could undo her pact with solitude.

 

She listened to Inuyasha and Kagome screech at each other without hearing. She did not try to intervene or to offer counsel in these little spats anymore. There was enough done these days in the repetitive motion of mindless ants. She was too engrossed in dreams from the previous night anyway, dreams she remembered with unsettling clarity. The night had been hot and restless, and she had gone to bed annoyed with Miroku and burdened in the same old ways.

 

In her dream they were walking on a dry and dusty road. The air was bright and bone dry. It was all very ordinary and unremarkable. She could hear Shippou chattering to Kagome, and Miroku was walking beside Sango, talking to her in a low voice, but she did not remember what was said.

 

There was an approaching sound, a hard staccato running to meet them. Everyone turned to see horse standing in the road. He was a great stallion, the most beautiful Sango had ever seen. He nodded his impressive head, throwing his mane in the bright sky. There was a sense of wariness behind her and she knew her friends were afraid.

 

Yes, she thought nonsensically, he could kick, or bite.

 

But Sango was not afraid, she was enthralled. She lifted her hand to him.

 

“Sango…” Miroku's tone was cautionary, but more than that he was afraid, not of the horse, but of something else. She did not acknowledge it in the dream, but somehow understood it anyway, and she chose to ignore it.

 

No, no time to tell him now.

 

I will be a demon slayer. I will be strongest. I will be fiercest. I will travel endlessly. I will laugh at this, cry at that and then pray, and then sleep. I will hit Miroku. I will love and never think to stop. I will embrace no one. I will hate, fear, dread, and regret and I will choke on all of it.

 

She was with these people because she had always been.

 

Sango was alone.

 

Now she stood again at the beginning of another dry and dusty road. After the insufferable drone of their monotonous motions bothered them enough, the little “family” got on their way. They decided to retrace their steps to the ravine and then attempt to find clues or leads from there. Kaede gathered what supplies she could spare and gave them to Sango, since Kagome's bag was full of the mysterious objects she always brought from her own era.

 

Kaede was sad that they were leaving. The truth was her life was so much more boring when they were gone. But what saddened her most was to see their youth wither, with nothing to show for it, when all hope of peace had gone beyond recall or desire. She wanted to tell them that Naraku's death would probably not solve all of their problems and that they should not let his nature ruin them. But in the end all she could say was: “Farewell. Be careful.”

 

Be careful, Kagome.

 

---

 

 

Kaede had not been the first to say this to Kagome on this same day. Before Kagome returned to the feudal era that morning, and before her mother sank into a crisis of inflexible apprehension, Kagome had stood before the door to the well shrine with her mother, both of them trying to speak words through the words they could not speak.

 

“I just don't think you should have to keep doing this.”

 

Not once had Kagome's mother ever attempted to dissuade her from going through the well, until then. She stood before her daughter, looking so much older than she had five minutes before, and she wrung her hands, trying not to appear emotional.

 

Kagome's heart sank into a deep, black pool of thick water.

 

“This other place, why must you go?” her mother questioned her. “What do you owe them that live there? Why must you give everything away?”

 

Kagome tried to comfort her, even though she had no answers.

 

“Oh mom,” she even laughed a little. “I don't think I'm giving away everything.”

 

“Then tell me, what have you saved? What have you gained?”

 

Kagome could say nothing, so she stared at her mother's shoes.

 

“I just don't think,” her mother murmured. “I just don't think it's fair. That's all.”

 

“Please, Mama,” Kagome pleaded. “Don't.”

 

They heard the faint ringing of the telephone in the house. Grandpa and Souta were away at the market, but both Higurashis chose to ignore it anyway.

 

“Is it…” Higurashi was afraid to ask the question she had ignored for years. She swallowed hard. “Is it terribly dangerous? Is it hard for you?”

 

Kagome felt the ugly weight of a lie on her tongue.

 

“It's really not bad at all,” she said cheerfully. “I mean, why do you think I keep going back? It's a real fairy tale.”

 

Kagome started to turn away. She was fearful that her mother would reach out and restrain her. She almost seemed to, for a moment. Then Kagome heard her sigh, and then tell her in a low voice:

 

“Please, be careful Kagome.”

 

Kagome placed a hand on the edge of the well and made ready to jump into it. She turned, and said over her shoulder, “I never meant to cause you pain.” Then she was gone.

 

It was a long, long time, before Higurashi saw her daughter again.

 

A fairy tale, she had said. This phrase turned in Higurashi's mind on a reel and was incorporated in phantom whispers and sighs that would haunt her for weeks to come.

 

---

 

“No one's picking up.” Yuka returned the phone to its cradle.

 

“Maybe we could just go over there,” Eri suggested. She was sitting in an overstuffed chair, absently petting an orange-stripped cat curled and purring on her lap. “It's not far.”

 

“I don't know,” Ayumi disagreed. She pulled her eyes away from the sharp blue sky outside the window. “I don't think we should just show up like that.”

 

Yuka, on the other hand, was not in the mood for traditional pleasantries.

 

“We're going,” she said shortly. She grabbed an umbrella and crossed the threshold before the other girls could argue. Eri and Ayumi scrambled to cram their feet into their shoes and lock the door before catching up with her.

 

“I still don't think this is a good idea,” Ayumi said again, casting her eyes upwards again at the stabbing sun of the summer afternoon.

 

Yuka said nothing but looked straight ahead, and Eri only gave a slight sort of shrug. Ayumi knew it was useless. This adventure was the final crash of a wave that had been swelling since Kagome left them so abruptly the previous evening. All through the night, Yuka had sat still as death on their dilapidated sofa, staring at the news channel that reran the same stories over and over. Eri and Ayumi would have been able to sleep without trouble, if not for Yuka's anxiety that thudded on all the walls with relentless fervor. They got up at two in the morning and made three ice cream sundaes. Yuka let most of hers melt, unable to reach it through the dread that encased her down to her knuckles.

 

Eri and Ayumi tried to comfort her. They said that Kagome's problems did not have to be their own problems. She had always been this way, would probably always be this way, and they were better off not worrying about it. Yuka, however, made it clear that she believed Kagome was in some obscure but serious danger.

 

“But she's always acted this way,” Eri argued. “If she's been in trouble all this time…” she spread her hands and left it hanging.

 

“I know, I know,” Yuka lowered her head and raked her hands through her hair. Then she sighed. “I just…I just can't explain it. I have a terrible feeling. As soon as the hour is decent, I'm going to try calling her.”

 

“What will that accomplish?” Eri asked her.

 

“I don't know. But I have to do something.”

 

And so here they were now, approaching the shrine itself. Ayumi's sense of unnamed fear doubled as soon as Yuka's foot landed on the first step and, perforce, she checked the sky again.

 

“I'm sorry girls,” Higurashi had been surprised to see them when she opened the door. Yuka thought the gentle woman looked tired and distracted. “Kagome isn't here.”

 

---

 

“Lord Sesshoumaru is not here,” Jaken's tone carried all the weight of contempt he could muster. He hoped it covered his fear. In his lord's absence he was no match for this visitor, should she decide to cause trouble.

 

“Well?” she demanded. “Where is he?”

 

“That is no business of yours,” Jaken scorned. “Slave of Naraku!”

 

“How dare you, you little—” Kagura choked on her own rage. The image of the little toad split in two danced before her mind's eye for a moment, but she realized at the last minute that it would probably not increase her chances of allying herself to the fearsome prince of the West. Still, there was no reason that the puny creature had to like her.

 

“My, my,” she purred. “He's gone and left you all alone then, has he?”

 

Grasping her fan, she made a slight, suggestive movement with her wrist. Jaken continued to glare at her, but he took an involuntary step back. She grinned wide enough to expose her pearly teeth, then she lowered her weapon.

“Actually,” she said, “I didn't come here for a fight. I came to talk terms of a treaty, on behalf of my master. But I was not told to treat with you.”

 

“And it would not serve your purpose either way!” Jaken cried. “My master would not ever associate himself with the likes of Naraku, cursed and deceitful, and altogether worthless. I am amazed that he would even dare entertain the notion.”

 

Kagura shrugged, seeming indifferent. But Jaken narrowed his eyes. He knew something about “lackeys” after all, though he would never use that word. He thought of a way to get back at her for her insolence.

 

“I don't believe he ever did entertain the notion,” he declared.

 

Kagura narrowed her eyes at him.

 

“He's not that stupid. He probably just sent you here to get you out from underfoot for a while. Probably doing something he doesn't want you to know about. Doesn't trust you, eh?” He scoffed. “No surprise.”

 

Kagura glared at him. “Aren't you the clever one?” Her tone was acidic. “But you see, I am not so stupid either. I came here with my own agenda.”

 

“Obviously,” Jaken sneered at her. “But you'll have no luck there either. Sesshoumaru would not saddle himself with someone else's garbage.”

 

This time, Kagura moved too fast for him to flinch, and her sudden burst of angry wind sent him flying into the far wall, knocking the breath out of his lungs. He knew then that he had pushed her too far. He started to scream for help, but then he realized that there was no one to help him. The last thing he wanted was to bring Rin running to the scene. He reached for his staff, but the wind sorceress was already there, knocking it out of his reach. She was inside the house now. Kagura, a servant of his master's detested enemy, was in the Hyouden.

 

Kagura stood over him, her arm ready to wield the fan in one last blow and slice him in half. She had not come here for this, and she knew it was the last thing she should do, but the little toad had said all the wrong things at the wrong time and the terrible ocean of her anger was out of control. She needed the release of it. It would be so satisfying. It would be so good.

 

“What's happening, Master Jaken?”

 

Kagura whirled to face the doorway. It was the woman-child Rin. She had grown a great deal since the last time Kagura had seen her. The demoness was made even angrier by this evidence of her long servitude.

 

Why should this girl, this stupid mortal girl, be so damned lucky? Why should she have everything? Everything!

 

Jaken, still on the floor, stared up at her in horror. He watched the hatred ride over her face like a wave and, all it once, he understood its meaning.

 

“NO!” he screamed. “Rin! Run!”

 

Rin's face blanched when she recognized Kagura and, before she even heard Jaken's shout, she turned and bolted back up the stairs like a rabbit. Kagura leapt after her, but Jaken had taken advantage of her distraction and had managed to reach his staff. Kagura found her path blocked by a sudden wall of flames so intense that her hair was blown back by the waves of heat.

 

“Kagura!” Jaken shouted. “Don't you dare!”

 

Kagura whirled on him in amazement.

 

“There'll be no hope for you if you don't stop. If you hurt that girl you will surely perish!”

 

Kagura froze. That someone such as Jaken could say such a thing to her—there'll be no hope for you—brought out the truth of her miserable existence with a clean clarity, like iron bells ringing in the winter. The flames had vanished, but she was still standing as still as death in the entry of the Hyouden. The puny victories of her life so far flickered before her.

 

Finally, she closed her fan, and started to straighten her hair and clothing, while Jaken watched her intently. The demoness seemed to forget his presence. Much to his amazement, her expression had become one of horror and hopelessness and he heard her whisper to herself.

 

“I am the dead.”

 

Then she turned toward the door, and was gone.

 

Jaken found Rin hiding beneath all the pillows on her bed. He would not have known she was there at all if not for her scent. Wide brown eyes peeked over the covers.

 

“Is she gone?”

 

Jaken puffed himself up.

 

“Of course she is!” he exclaimed. “Do you think I would not be able to run off riffraff like that?”

 

Rin let out a little shout of joy and bounded across the bed and the floor. She embraced Jaken with all her strength before he could stop her. Not that he put up much of a sincere fight, anymore.

 

“Come on, you little idiot,” he told her. “Let's go get something to eat.”

 

---

 

“Could you tell us then, please, where she has gone?” Yuka gave a slight bow of the head.

 

Kagome's mother did not know what to think. In all these years, it had always been enough to say “Kagome is away” or “Kagome is ill”. For some reason, no one had ever come to visit, unannounced, while Kagome was on the other side.

 

“Well, I, I'm not sure…”

 

Yuka looked up sharply, and Higurashi knew right away that she had made a mistake. She tried to rectify it.

 

“That is, she just went out for a while. She didn't tell me where she was going.”

 

“Oh.” Yuka now looked confused, as if she was unsure what to do next. “Well, when she comes back, could you tell her to call us, or come see us, please?”

 

“Of course I will,” Higurashi smiled. “I'm sure she'll be sorry that she missed you.”

 

Minutes later, the three girls were standing out in the street.

 

“It doesn't make any sense,” Yuka was saying. “Where would she go?”

 

“I don't know,” Eri shifted her weight on her hips. “Can we go home now?”

 

“Sorry if you're bored,” Yuka snapped. “But I still care about Kagome.”

 

“Perhaps you're the one who is bored,” Eri murmured. “Or maybe you're just being nosy.”

 

“Can we please not fight over this?” Ayumi pleaded, her head languishing on the arm she rested on a tree.

 

Eri sighed and pushed her hair out of her eyes. She squinted up at the shrine and then looked back at her friend.

 

“All right, Yuka,” she said. “What do you want to do now?”

 

“Isn't it obvious? We spy on her, of course.”

 

“But how are we going to do that?” Eri complained. “We all have jobs you know.”

 

“We'll just have to take turns watching the place during the evening,” Yuka said. “Sooner or later, one of us will have to see something.”

 

Eri and Ayumi stared at their friend, hoping that she was joking. She wasn't.

 

The heat, which had been outrageous all summer and brutal enough to twist the metal door hinges and knockers, was hammering down on their heads. Ayumi had been relieved that the visit came to nothing and she had stopped watching the sky, but now she was trying not to think about her parched throat, or the ridiculous image of herself, stalking in the middle of the night outside the Higurashi shrine in a ninja outfit.

 

***l

 

[End of Chapter 5]

[Next chapter: Our Memorials]