InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ They Call Me Kikyo ❯ They Call Me Kikyo ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: I only own Kori.

Author's Note: Every once in a while, I can't help but do a serious Kikyo piece. She really is a fascinatingly deep character. And- admit it- if someone that shared your soul and looked quite a bit like you started flirting with the one person you deeply cared about, you'd get pretty pissed off too. (Well, that's what I tell myself when Kikyo starts screwing things up. (-;)

This one was inspired by two different episodes: 62 and 71. 62 is where Kagome is knocked out due to a curse and dreams of everyone in the future- very cool- and Kikyo is her school's archery teacher. And at the end of 71 is a kawaii part with stars. I won't spoil it all, but there's a moment were we flash on Kikyo, and she's thinking "I am Kikyo- but I'm not really Kikyo." I liked the idea of where it was going, so I decided to finish it. (-;

I hope you enjoy. Please R&R!

(PS. This is not really the Kori from ED- and this is not the one shot I said I might do. I just couldn't think of anyone else in the part that she fills, you know? ::smile and sweatdrop:: Or maybe you don't. . . whatever. If you want to imagine this as an ED one-shot, you go right ahead (even if it sort of contradicts ED)! XD)

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They call me `Kikyo'.

But in my heart I know that is not my name. After all, how can I be one already dead? Even if I am made of her ashes and soul- I never was and never will be the one they expect me to be. All I am is a kind of shadow- not qualified to be a ghost, not qualified to be a zombie, nor human, nor a demon, nor even a hanyou. Even I am not sure of what I truly am. All I know is that- when I stare up at the stars each night; into the heavens aglitter with far away souls- I feel an incredibly loneliness. Not the kind of loneliness that can be solved by surrounding myself with wounded samurai, or village children, or even Inu-Yasha.

A loneliness inside that comes from a lack of myself. Of not knowing me. I am constantly nagged by the question of `Who am I?' and `Where do I belong?' I sound like a cliché movie. I feel like a sobbing child.

They call me `Kikyo'.

And why not? I look exactly like her. I am born from her remains. I carry her old feelings, memories, and thoughts.

And yet I am not Kikyo. Just as Kagome is not Kikyo. I am not the one Kaede should've called `sister'. I am not the one Naraku should've lusted after. I am not the one Tsubaki or any other youkai should've attempted revenge upon. I am not the one Inu-Yasha should've longed for.

They call me `Kikyo'.

But I am not her. I was not then, I am not now.

"Kikyo-sensei! Kikyo-sensei! Look!"

I smile slightly as I glance down at one of my pupils, the one who is pointing excitedly towards a bulls-eye she made on my archery grounds. "Good job, Higurashi," I compliment softly, nodding my head at the fifteen-year-old girl and resisting the urge to pat her gray-haired head; to remove the hat her parents make her wear to hide the ears she inherited from her father. Her father. . .

Who'd have thought that'd he'd rather wait 500 years for Kagome when the well sealed than go to hell with me?

Well. . . I guess it's understandable. After all, he loved Kikyo. He loves Kagome. And I . . .

I am neither.

"Heeeey! Koriiiiii-chaaaaaaaaan!" a group of girls calls from the exit of the high school, framed by the late evening sun. "Come on, it's time to go! School's out!"

"Just a minute, guys!" the hanyou's daughter sings back with a wide smile, deep blue eyes crinkling as she beams. Her mother's eyes. . .Kikyo's eyes. . . My eyes. I bite my lip as she turns to me again.

"See you tomorrow, Kikyo-sensei," she bows politely, smiling at me as she lifts her head. I vaguely wave my hand as she races off to join her adopted brother Shippo and her friends. So cheerful. So happy. So kind. I know she still doesn't realize who I am. . .

Of course, neither do I.

They call me `Kikyo'.

But in my heart I know that is not my name. In my heart I know that is not who I am. In my heart. . .

I know this `life' of mine is a lie.

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