As stated in the summary, the inspiration for this story is Youkai Yume's image "Don't Go", which can be found at this link (please remove the spaces): www . deviantart art /SessKag- Sketch -Don-t -Go- 458679172
I do not own the image, Inuyasha, or any of the characters. I only own this story and my ideas that stem from the image.
The Second
Chapter 1
It's been a month.
One month since my world came crashing down around me. One month since the Shikon Jewel was destroyed. One month since Naraku's defeat. One month since the well sealed itself. One month since I last saw my friends. One month since I saw Inuyasha disappear before my eyes.
The first week was the worst. I spent part of that time sobbing in the well, the rest in my room in a deep depression. My friends came by to see me and asked me if I'd broken up with my boyfriend. I lied and let them believe that was the case.
Mom made me start school again after that first week. "You've missed enough as it is," she told me. "And it'll help you get settled back in here. Give you something to do." I agreed only halfheartedly. I made sure I jumped into the well every day before and after school. I had to start making up excuses for the scrapes on my knees after a few days.
Everyday is a little easier. I don't cry openly anymore and I try to smile. My family knows I struggle, but my friends have no clue. My grades are improving since I've thrown myself fully into catching up and passing. If anything keeps my spirits up, it's school. I've even started applying to high schools now that I know I'm not going to fail.
I still jump into the well every day, but I go late at night so no one else knows. I have a note written out, just in case, but I always end up sticking it back in my desk drawer. It's my hope that I can get back. The empty yellow bag in the corner of my room is the painful knowledge that it won't happen.
I feel as if I'm living in Hell, that I did something wrong to get separated from the people that I see as my family. I know that's not true, though. The Shikon Jewel was my key to the past and without it, I'm locked out. I'm stuck in the modern era. And I never thought I would hate that this much.
I got up Monday morning and dressed, feeling more tired than usual. I slipped into the bathroom and started applying concealer under my eyes to hide the dark circles. My dreams of the Feudal Era were much more prominent the night before and I barely got any sleep because of them. I was waking up every hour crying. I gave up on sleep eventually and just paced in my room. I'd take tired over crying any day.
Once I'd hidden all signs of exhaustion and was cleaned up, I headed downstairs. Mom had left a note on the fridge saying she was going to the store, so I grabbed a bagel and my bag before heading out. As I walked across the grounds of the shrine, I kept my eyes forward. It was easier to avoid looking at the old tree as much as possible. It brought back more painful memories than the well house did. So much had happened under that tree. It was where I first met Inuyasha, where we defeated Naraku. The tree connected me with the past, but I could hardly stand to look at it. It's sad, really.
I jogged down the shrine stairs and headed for the train station. As soon as I arrived, I paid for my ticket and hopped on the next train. I sat in the last car near the back, preferring to be alone. The past was strong in my mind and I didn't want anyone else to see my pain, if it showed. I thought about Lord Sesshomaru at that point, about how he always hid himself away behind his cold grace and bored expressions. The thought bothered me a little, not in the usual way. Was I starting to look like him on the outside? Was I becoming cold and uncaring? Maybe it's a side effect of being alone.
I was so lost in my thoughts that I barely noticed the man who sat down next to me. I glanced up briefly and had to do a double take. He was tall, much taller than me. His hair was jet black and cut at the level of his chin, slightly shaggy looking but in a sleek way. Black, square glasses sat on his nose, only slightly hiding his hazel colored eyes. His suit was clean and crisp, not a wrinkle to be seen, much like the chiseled structure of his face. He looked like I pictured Lord Sesshomaru would have if he was a human. Even the way he sat rang with the same regality.
"Do you mind?" I shook my head quickly, having not realized I was staring until he spoke to me.
"S-Sorry," I said softly; even his voice was similar. "Y-You look like someone I used to know."
"Hn."
I took a deep breath to compose myself. It's not him, I thought to myself. I sat quietly for a few stops before finally breaking my silence. "I'm Kagome," I blurted. "Higurashi Kagome."
His eyes flicked to me for a moment, appearing slightly irritated that I'd interrupted his thoughts. "Akizuki Hakuoro," he said and I sighed in relief. At least he responded.
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Akizuki!" I chirped and his brow furrowed in a scowl.
"You remind much of a woman I used to know," he said. "Always needing to fill the air with useless chatter."
I scowled at him. "Excuse me for being polite then," I muttered.
I kept silent the rest of the ride, trying my best to ignore him. His resemblance to Sesshomaru made it difficult, though. I kept wondering if Mr. Akizuki was the reincarnation of the Lord of the West. The way he looked and acted made it extremely possible.
The train soon pulled to a stop at my station and I climbed off. Hakuoro Akizuki followed me off, but I ignored him just as he did me. When we reached the street, we went separate ways. I did pause to glance at his back. The demon lord entered my mind again and I shook it off before heading for school.
I listened idly to my friends chatter as we walked into the Tokyo History Museum for our history class field trip. Most of the major assignments for the year were one, so our teacher decided to go on a fun and educational field trip to end the year. I wasn't sure how much fun I'd actually have though; the museum was featuring a new exhibit on Japan's Feudal Era that held artifacts from private galleries and family collections. They were "very rare pieces of history" our teacher had said. Personally, I didn't see them as rare. I'd seen similar items for the last year, save this past month.
When our class reached the room the special exhibit was held in, I broke away from my friends. "I'm just gonna look around," I said. "You guys go ahead. You know how I am when it comes to history."
"Alright, we'll see you at lunch!" Aki said before leading them off.
"How does she enjoy this stuff?" I heard Miyako say and I snickered to myself.
You'd never believe me if I told you, I thought before starting to walk around. I had excelled in history this year, despite missing so much school. But today, I wasn't worried about holding my friends back by me staring at artifacts. I didn't want to risk them seeing me lose it over some old object that had no meaning to them.
I started walking around the gallery, hands clasped behind my back. Thankfully, most of the artifacts didn't bring up memories. Most objects were old swords, clothing, or armor though some were texts from the period or jewels that had been passed down through the centuries. One display case held a set of miko robes with a bow. I cringed a bit at it and quickly moved into the next room.
I sighed a bit at the openness of this room and at how few people were here. It was a welcome change from the crowd of the previous room. I glanced around and my eyes widened as they landed on the case in the center of the room. It was solid glass for a 360 degree view and contained three swords, katanas to be specific. I rushed forward and pressed my nose to the glass. I was starting to think I'd never see these blades again. I knew their names without the help of the cards beneath them. Tetsusaiga, Tenseiga, and Bakusaiga. Even through the glass, my holy powers could feel the power of the youkai that created them, that resonated from them.
I forced my eyes away from the blades and down to the plague beside the case. Who contributed these swords to this exhibit? My eyes scanned over the legend inscribed on it; I knew it to be true. I knew the demons who owned them. What I needed to know was if they were alive, if he was still alive. Finally, my eyes found the donor's name. I froze.
"These blades were gratefully borrowed from the private collection of Mr. Hakuoro Akizuki."