The Rhythm of Goodbye
"Kagome's thoughts"
(Words: 1,263)
Vocab:
Sengoku Jidai: feudal era
Hanyou: half demon
A stranger gazed back at her. With deep sapphire eyes that had long ago lost their luster, that stare was so dull and deep they were impossible to interpret. The skin along her arms and legs were tan from long days spent traveling in the sun, a sharp contrast to the pale skin of her torso. Most horrifying of all were the scars.
They covered her body from head to toe. Some of them were so small they were barely noticeable, others so large that they were obviously made by something inhuman. A large bit mark on her right hip was obviously made with long, sharp teeth, but as she ran her palm over the skin it was smoothed with age. Just to the left and slightly higher was an x shaped scar that ran from the bottom of her left breast to the right of her belly button. The flesh was still pink and tender to the touch.
Across the skin above her heart was a discoloration against the pale ivory. Almost like a permanent bruise without the pain, it was a testament to a time when she had been grievously poisoned. On her left shoulder was a bump of scarred flesh, uneven because of the arrow that had pierced it. Her arms were covered with a multitude of small slices from knives and swords, some faded with time and others still pink with discomfort.
"Who are you?" The words left her red lips in a whisper. The dark eyed stranger still stared back at her, unblinking with those unnerving eyes. She didn't know who it was that looked at her in the mirror. Once she had been Kagome, but no longer. Kagome had been a silly teenage girl, thrust into a destiny that was much too large for her, who held onto hope like none other. She had had friends so dear to her heart she would have died for them. But no longer. The well had long since closed, blocking her from her friends. They were all dead now.
A sharp knock on her door had her lurching for her clothing that was scattered on the floor. "Sis? It's almost show time. Are…are you ready for this?" her brother called. His voice was no longer the innocent squeak of youth. Now he was a man, with a deep voice to match. "You know…I understand if you're…if you don't want to do this. Anyone would, if they knew…"
"I'll be out in a minute, Souta." She waited until she heard the distant tap of his footsteps fading away before beginning to change.
When she came out, her fellow workers whistled appreciatively. Held snugly in place by two shining belts was a pair of black, low rise jeans. Multiple slashes in the material showed off her tan legs. A snug red tank top hugged her torso in all the right places, showing off her womanly curves to their best advantage. Her waist length raven hair was pulled back into a thick braid that swung with every step.
Her brother was beside her in a moment, sending glares to the other men openly ogling his older sister. "You ready, Kagome?" She gave him a small smile, craning her neck to look up into his concerned brown eyes. Souta had grown during her years spent in Sengoku Jidai, and now he stood at least a foot taller than her.
"As ready as I'll ever be."
Taking a deep breath, she crossed the stage, stopping behind a microphone. She took the guitar her co-worker offered and calmed at the familiar weight of the strap against her back. Plucking the strings a few times until satisfied, she first lowered the microphone to her lips, and then turned to give her brother a thumbs up. A flurry of activity burst forth from the action and in moments the curtain was sashaying aside.
Blinding lights in all sorts of colors momentarily blinded her. Whistles and cheers drummed against her ears as the crowd surged forward to get as close to the stage as it could. Waiting for the introductions to be done and over with, she took another calming breath. Closing her eyes, she waited.
When the announcer and the crowd silenced, she began the first trembling notes of the haunting melody.
"Kazesasou kokage ni utsubusete naiteru. (The wind entices me to lay down in the shade.)
Mi mo shiranu watashi wo watashi ga miteita. (I cry—when I look at myself, I see someone I don't know.)
Yuku hito no, shirabe wo kanaderu gitaara…" (Playing the guitar for those who've passed away…)
The sharp twang of the guitar beneath her fingertips calmed her, made it easy to ignore the people so silently watching her. It reminded her of another time, when she had wielded not an instrument, but a bow and arrow. As the music surged around her, so did the cries of the crowd, which had been so quiet moments before.
"Yukanaide, donna ni sakende mo. (They won't come, but they call out.)
Yawarakana hitai ni nokosareta…" (Far-away memories held in my palm.)
She remembered them all so clearly. Sango, with her fiery gaze and blushing smile. Miroku with his wandering hands and charming smirk. Shippo with his adorable tail and mischievous fox magic. Most of all she remembered a familiar red-clad hanyou. Remembered the kind look he reserved just for her in private moments, the way his arms seemed to fit perfectly around her. Just thinking about it brought tears to her eyes.
"Tokoshie no sayonara tsuma biku…" (I strike a chord of eternal goodbye.)
Eyes still clenched shut against the tears prickling the back of her eyes, her body swayed to the beat, tossing her hair this way and that as she lost herself in the familiar rhythm. Cymbals clashed, the drums banged, and the guitar strummed. On the edge of consciousness she could hear the crowd cheering and stomping, some singing along to their sad melody.
As the song ground to a halt, the tears finally escaped. Peeking into the crowd surging around her, she caught a glimpse of her fans. Some had the same tear stained cheeks as her. A huge roar blasted through the auditorium as they clapped and screamed, whistled and shouted. She was only slightly relieved when the curtains fell back into place, separating her from the throng of people.
"You did great, sis!" Souta exclaimed. He strode across the small stage with wide steps, face beaming, as he tackled her in a hug. As he babbled about the success of her first concert she attempted to bring the tears back under control. She was proud to say she sniffled only once. When her brother leaned back to look down at her, his arm warm and comforting against her shoulders, a silly grin broke out across his face. Lowering his voice, he added, "I'm sure they're proud of you."
"Yeah…me too…"
Hope you liked it. I was inspired to write this by listening to the song Akatsuki no Kuruma, which is also where the lyrics for Kagome's song came from. It's really a wonderful piece of music and I strongly suggest you listen to it, perhaps with English subtitles so you get the full effect, on youtube. Tell me how you feel about this ficlet, and any constructive criticism is welcome. Thanks, and please review! –Master of all Perv's, out!