Word count: 1, 599

You know me

Have you ever had that selfish longing – the little voice in your head that said, 'Go, just do it,' even thought you knew in your heart it was wrong?

Have you ever had a plan go awry? A plan go so horribly wrong that it made your whole soul stagger backwards, barely kept from keeling over?

Have you ever felt a guilt so great it threatened to consume your whole being, a shame so fiery it tore you apart from inside out?

I have – I've experienced all these things. And so much more.

The dirty little voice in my mind first started to speak as I was—literally—given a second chance at life. Not that it's dirty, exactly, but wrong, for sure. Evil, yes. Horribly cruel? Most definitely.

It wasn't his fault our lives were torn apart, our fate set on its doomed path. Inuyasha had so say in it; yet why do I continue to lash out at him so? He was only the unfortunate recipient of a sick puppeteer's game—a trap, if you will—which was in reality meant for me. For me.

For my responsibility, the Shikon jewel, of which thinking about even today makes me burn with shame. Was it not my duty to protect it, to keep it pure? I failed; and it is something I can never forgive myself for. Even now, as its pieces lie scattered throughout the land, I feel the shame, gnawing at my heart and piercing my already broken soul. In my dreams, I see Midoriko look at me with disapproving eyes, the beautiful smile that once guided me gone.

But it's not only because of my failed responsibility that she disapproves. It is my being, my existing, that angers her great spirit so. 'Move on,' she says, but I cannot. Which brings us back to the horrid little voice.

It nags me, plays upon my will, and the sad thing is, it's absolutely right. 'You want to live,' the voice says, and guiltily, shamefully, I agree. 'You want power,' it whispers, and I must nod, a deep part of me disbelieving at my selfishness. 'You want Inuyasha, you hope Kagome will die,' and again, grudgingly, I say yes.

For you see, I grew tired of being righteous. Perhaps that was when the malevolent part of me began to sprout. Even before Inuyasha entered the picture, I was longing for a break, a freedom from the trapped life I was to lead. Battling demons day and night grew to be a tedious task, and at times I felt like Midoriko – always battling. But that was where the similarities ended.

I longed for more. A family, a home. I envied my sister Kaede, even though she was a mere child. She had someone to look up to. And I? I had to deal with people all the time, helping them, teaching them. I grew tired of teaching. In a way, one could almost say I became lazy. And yet, at the same time, I couldn't tell myself to not help those in need. It was like an addiction, one that couldn't be controlled. If someone needed aid, I couldn't just leave him or her to fend for himself or herself! That was unthinkable! So, in a way, I became the older sister of everyone, and I both loved and hated my job.

Then Inuyasha came along. The details of how we met are blurry, and he had an awful reputation, but I was so happy to have a friend I didn't care. Besides, I half-fancied myself to be Midoriko, and if need came, I could purge Inuyasha of his demon side. Just like that. Nice and simple. Now I scoff at my innocence. Things are never simple.

Because it was then that my selfishness really started to rear its ugly head. While my feelings for the arrogant hanyou grew, so did my schemes. 'Perhaps,' I told myself, 'if I turn Inuyasha human, then the Shikon could be purified. I would be free from my task. I could start a family.' My longings became more and more acute, and I no longer wanted to be a simple priestess. I could become a hero, freeing Midoriko from the jewel, and finally leading the life I wanted.

Yet, you may wonder, how did the jewel manage to stay pure? It was because my true, inner intentions were not evil at all...but they were led by my selfishness.

I think Inuyasha sensed my growing excitement, and I believe it was because of his love for me that led him to finally agree to my pleas. But that's as far as my plan went.

For it was then that Onigumo struck. Whether he knew of my true intentions or not, he couldn't have chosen a worst time to reveal his true nature. I remember Kaede's warnings, but dismissed them as childish, too preoccupied with my own desires to take heed. And look where that's gotten me. A wandering, restless, spirit, searching for comfort and a resting place, both of which she will never find. Even to this day I'm amazed at my plan's perfection, of what could have been. Why was I so foolish? One false step, and all my perfect plans shattered. It still strikes my heart so.

I remember that day with uncanny clarity. The arrow struck Inuyasha squarely in the chest, my shot, as usual, perfectly on aim. Or so I thought. It was only after Inuyasha's fierce gaze fell into that peaceful sleep that I realized what I'd done. I'd missed his heart, almost cruelly, by the slightest fraction, and thus he did not immediately die, as he should have. Instead, he was to die a slow death, the tiny wound caused by my arrow to curse him forever.

See, because of Inuyasha's half human blood, the effects of the sacred power infused with my arrow were less effective. That, added on with the fact I missed, were major factors resulting in his eternal slumber. He should have died; instead, he lay serenely at rest for 50 years. I know that now. I believe it that the sacred aura of my arrow must have burned his flesh by day, while his demon side healed the wound at night. An ironic twist. Nevertheless, it should have continued this way, if my reincarnation had not appeared and set the wheels of fate in motion once again.

Urasue brought me back to life; I need not tell you about her, for she was a wretched, horrid thing, corrupted from inside out. I remember that first moment of life so clearly…it was shocking to feel the cool earth against flesh, cold and frozen though my body was.

'Where am I?' I recall thinking. Colours, smells, feeling rushed in through my senses, and I remember my fingers convulsing as they clutched damp dirt. For a brief moment, I reveled in the rush of being alive, but all the while painfully aware of the stiffness in my limbs. Something nagged at the back of my mind, then suddenly, it all came rushing back.

A torrent of emotion hit me first. Anger, fear, remorse, pain, disappointment, and a sick sense of triumph washed over me. Then came the memories. Ten times worse, they barraged every corner of my mind, squeezing their way into the sane, content cracks. Worse yet, that voice, the one that whispered to me when I was still a pure miko, was back, and with a vengeance. It ruled my actions, my emotions, and my former sense of righteousness, twisting them into selfish deeds.

'I want to live. I want Inuyasha to suffer. I will not move on.'

Even after finding out the truth of Naraku's deceit, the voice didn't stop. Instead, it grew even more courageous. That familiar ambitious longing returned, but this time I craved power. I became wily, using my tainted powers to gain what I wanted. Thus I wandered, devouring the souls of innocents, hunting the one I loved the most. I scoff at that now.

Love. Such a fickle thing. The love between Inuyasha and I is something to be laughed at, a pathetic and failed attempt at the true treasure. I know that as well as anyone, but still I cannot let go. The voice won't let me. What could have been continues to haunt me. And that is why I still seek my revenge upon Inuyasha, but not on the monster that deserves it. That is why I pray daily for Kagome's death. That is why I continue to wander, an unwelcome spirit on the earth. Because I get a kind of sick pleasure from doing what's wrong. It feels good, in a way, and burns my insides with guilt.

Ah, but I have spoken enough. What will you do now? You wish to know who I am. Should I tell you? Perhaps you already know, for my reputation is great.

Will you dismiss all that you heard as the ramblings of an insane creature?

Or will you guess my name and cry, "The woman from hell, return to whence you came!"

Perhaps you will look upon me with pity, nod your head and say, 'I understand,' then leave and forget about it all the next day.

Or maybe, just maybe, you will listen to my words, sympathize with my pain, and see me as a person. You say yes, but will you? Truly? Somehow I doubt that.

Oh well, it matters not.

Do you still wish to know my name?

I think you already know.