Disclaimer: This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied.

Sisters, Forever

"Lady Madoka, please excuse the interruption, but..."

The voice entered her ears, but Kikyo's mind did not register it, as she continued to pull and release her bow. Ten arrows streaked towards the target. Ten arrows sliced into the center of the target, clustered so closely that from a distance, they appeared as one. Ten arrows shot; only then did she lower her bow, blinking a little as she eased her concentration.

"Very good, Kikyo," said the short, wizened woman who was the temple's archery master. "You are dismissed from the remainder of practice: Hakao-sama requests your presence. Immediately."

Her pleasure and sense of satisfaction vanished as apprehension took their places. Schooling her face to show neither, the fourteen-year-old bowed to the woman. "Of course, sensei. Should I take my bow and arrows to my room first, or—?"

"Sayuri will do that-perhaps an examination of your target, will remind her of the advantages of not breaking concentration."

Kikyo bowed again, not daring to look behind her, where she could almost feel the older apprentice miko simmering with resentment. Setting her bow and quiver against the wall, she followed the young priest who had interrupted the practice, tucking her hands into the ample sleeves of her white jacket. She tried to think, as they walked through the temple grounds, of any reason why the senior priest would summon her so abruptly. She could think of nothing. Not that she was anywhere close to perfect, despite Sayuri's whispered taunts that she thought of herself just that way. But, something so drastic that would cause Master Hakao to interrupt archery practice? No way!

She was unsurprised to be led to the room where the temple's head priest did most of the mundane work concerning keeping the temple running. But, when the young priest slid back the shoji, she was surprised to see Hakao standing, rather than kneeling behind his low desk, working on a scroll, as was his usual position. He was standing next to another man whom Kikyo recognized as a trader who passed through her old village several times a year. That was puzzling enough, but even more puzzling was the child half-hiding behind the trader, small hands clinging to his worn and dusty hakama.

Recalling her manners, Kikyo bowed to the senior priest. "Hakao-sama. How may this one serve?"

"I believe you know this man, Kikyo-san?" asked Hakao, his lined face revealing nothing.

"Of course, lord priest. He is Yasako-san, a trader with my family's village."

"He has ... brought you a message, and ... something else."

There was an odd note to the priest's voice, which Kikyo could not interpret. But, before she could puzzle it out, something wrenched in her mind, and without warning—she knew.

She forgot decorum, forgot manners, as the blood drained from her face. A half dozen hasty steps, and she went to her knees less than a length from the child. "Kaede?"

Dark, sunken eyes in a dirty face which was drawn with exhaustion slowly looked at her, fear in their depths. "Sister?" the child whispered. "You-are-sister?"

She had not seen Kaede in nearly two years since she had been taken to the temple. She had been no more than a toddler, clinging to their mother's apron. "Yes. I'm Kikyo, your sister." She held out her arms.

"Kaede, what's happened? Why are you here?"

Small fingers slowly unhooked themselves from the trader's hakama. "Mama ... mama went ... away." Tears brimmed. "Papa ... papa said ... go with 'sako-san ... go live ... with sister ..."

Oh, kami! Grief tore through Kikyo, as she realized their mother was dead. "Of course, you'll live with me," she said, pushing away the pain that would have tightened her throat, keeping her arms extended. "Come here, little sister."

The small hands let go of their support. One step. Two. And then, with a lunge, Kaede threw herself into the welcoming arms, bursting into tears.

Kikyo could not stop her own tears, as she gathered her sister into her lap and hugged her close. Mother, dead? Her dream, of going home as a full priestess, of hoping to see her mother smile, of seeing her be proud of her daughter: dead. Gone. And her father. What had happened, that he couldn't take care of Kaede?

She looked up through her tears at the trader. "What happened?" she whispered. "Yasako-san..."

The trader looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Your mother died in childbirth earlier this summer," he replied. "The boy—I'm told it lived about three days."

Kikyo closed her eyes, turning her head away for a moment, as sharp memories swept through her. Another baby boy, stillborn, two years before Kaede. Her father's drunken rage, his violence, and his subsequent shame. He loved her mother, yet he had been so desperate for a boy.

And her mother had been so desperate to give him one.

She forced herself to look back. "My father?"

He looked even more uncomfortable. "He asked me to deliver two letters, along with your sister, and a sum of money to this temple." He withdrew a folder paper from the inside of his kimono. "This one is for you."

Keeping her hold on her sister, Kikyo reached out and accepted the letter. Awkwardly, she unfolded it, shifting it about until she could read it.

Honorable daughter, it began.

Please forgive your unworthy father. He never intended to cause such pain; not to his daughters, not to the woman who gave him his daughters. Perhaps, had he heeded the warning of the kami, had he listened to the midwife, your honorable mother would yet live.

This unworthy one knows that he should have done more to care for his wife's younger daughter. This one should have found another to take as wife, if only for Kaede's sake.

This one could not. Your father has failed his duties. Your father has failed your sister, and has failed you.

The duty of raising your sister should not fall on you, yet your unworthy father sees no alternative. There is no one in the village who would take her, except to make her a servant. This one knows those families: Kaede is sent to you, to prevent that fate.

What money this one had, has been sent to the temple, for safekeeping, until you require it.

Please forgive your unworthy father for his failures.

He is forever proud of you.

You will not fail.

Kikyo let the letter slide from her fingers, a knot of grief forming in her throat. "He committed seppuku."

The trader did not reply immediately. "I did not see him after he left Kaede with me. We left the village that same morning."

She swallowed against her grief and held her sister—her only family—more tightly. She didn't need a trader's confirmation. She knew her father, knew how he thought.

He was the one who had taught her the way of the bow, after all.

He had taught her things that he had wanted to teach a son.

Kikyo clung to her sister, tears streaking her face, silent as her sister wailed. She rocked her sister, never noticing when the trader left, oblivious to everything except grief and her sister. But, eventually, exhaustion claimed the child, and Kaede quieted, going limp in her arms.

"Kikyo-chan."

She looked up. The younger priest had left, and the elder priest had seated himself behind his desk.

"I will send messages to the women who have retired, who live in town or nearby. I am sure one of them will be happy to adopt your sister."

Kikyo stiffened, even as a cold whisper commented that she should have expected that offer. "No," she said curtly, her embrace tightening. "Father entrusted Kaede to me."

His eyes narrowed a fraction, the only sign of disapproval. "You are training to become a miko, Kikyo. You will not have time to care for a child."

"I will make the time."

"This temple is no place for young children, Kikyo. The child needs more care than you can give."

"No."

He frowned. "Kikyo, when your father sent you to the temple, he relinquished his rights to you. You are under my authority, as a daughter to her father. You have my word that Kaede will be given to a family who will raise her as their own daughter, who will treat her well. I will make sure that you have chances to visit her. But you cannot keep her."

Kikyo lifted her chin, feeling something hard and adamant within her. "Hakao-sama, forgive my impertinence, but my sister stays with me. My father has asked me to do what he could not. He does not expect me to fail. I will not disappoint him."

"You cannot keep her here, Kikyo."

"Then, I will leave."

He started visibly, at her cold, unyielding words. For a long moment, he simply stared at her. And she met his gaze, refusing to flinch, refusing to accept his right to dictate to her. For she would not give in. She and Kaede were sisters. Nothing would change that. They had lost, could lose, all else, but that remained. They were sisters. Kaede was her responsibility, her duty, and Kikyo would not refuse her duty. Not ever.

Elder that he was, it was the priest who looked away first. He fiddled with a scroll, then picked up a paper that might have been the second letter.

"It will take time, to discover a family willing and able to adopt the child," he observed finally, not looking up. "Until then, it is your responsibility to make sure that the child's existence does not interfere with the running of this temple, or your lessons."

Kikyo bowed as best she could, with a somnolent Kaede in her arms. "I will not fail, master Hakao."

"See that you do not."

That was a dismissal. Kikyo picked up the letter, tucked it into her sleeve, then clambered to her feet, still holding Kaede. She made a sketchy bow, then turned and left, carrying her sister. She knew, with relief and determination, that she had won. At least, as long as she proved that she could care for her sister, the search for an adoptive family would not succeed.

And it would not need to succeed.

Kaede was her sister. They were sisters. They would always be sisters. They would be together.

Forever.


Author's Note: This story was originally posted on May 11th, 2010 to the LiveJournal community Inuyasha FanFic Contest. It won the contest.