"All things on Earth are interconnected to create an integrated self-regulating system, henceforth promoting life on Earth."
The Gaia hypothesis was first proposed by James Lovelock in the 1970s. Later, the theory became the foundations for many science fictions, being further modified into the idea that the Earth was a living, breathing being. It was the vision of magic that pushed the theory to popularity. Ultimately, the concept revolved around every organism and every being containing a soul.
For most people, all of these were just some cheap science fiction rubbish; little did they know that it is quite the contrary…
~oOo~
The ocean wind blew across the beach, sighing as it gently caressed the sand. As the waning light of the setting sun rested upon the waters, the waters became alive with a fiery glow. Similar to the wind, they lapped at the shore like thirsty dogs, adding new layers of sand and bringing the old ones away. The cycle continued day after day, year after year, with no end in sight.
There, on the beach, walked an old man, bent with years of age. From time to time, he would stoop down and use his experienced fingers to sift through the sands, examining it with care. He would return some of it back to where it belonged – ready for another journey through the vast emptiness of the ocean, whereas for others he would scoop it up gently and place it in his pouch. After some foraging, he was satisfied with the results of his collection and went home in the thinning light.
Whereas the beach resided in quiet serenade, the old man's house was fuming with activity. The old man was displaying an astounding bout of vigor as he ran from one corner of his house to the other, stocking the furnace, preparing the tweezers and more.
When it was time, the old man opened the furnace door and drew out a thin metal rod. On the other end of the rod was a piece of molten glob, flaring brightly in the dark. Quickly, he set the metal rod across his lap, ensuring that the glob was not touching anything. With years of experience behind his hand, he skillfully used the tweezers to mold the glob. First came the head, a small little sphere on top of the glob, and then came the hands, two small projections. And the others came easily after, the neck, the torso, the feet, and the rock. When he was happy with the shape, the old man took out a small carving knife and slowly worked on the face. He etched thin lines that would become the eyes, the hair and more.
It took only awhile for the old craftsman to finish his newest piece of work: a delicate woman – small enough to fit into the palm of a hand – sitting on top of a rock, her hair tossing wildly to the back by an invisible force. What was most astounding about the piece was her facial features: the cold, emotionless eyes that stared endlessly onwards, while her lips curved into an ambiguous expression – one caught in between smiling and frowning.
~oOo~
That was how she was born, she who once belong to the beach, the daughter of mother ocean. And now she perched on top of a wooden desk, staring out of the shop's window. She could see others like her, some shaped like mermaids, others like beasts with similar price tags on them. She was told by her peers that one day; someone would come in and take them to a new home and a new life. She wondered how the others like her fared, since they never heard back from the pieces that were bought.
A ring broke through her musings as a tall man with dark hair walked through the door. He had his hair tied up in a short ponytail and twin earrings on his ears. She could barely catch what the man was saying to the old owner of the shop, but the next moment the old man was leading the young man to her desk.
"Sir, you could have a look at these pieces. They are my personal crafts, each created without the help of my assistants." The old man said pleasantly, motioning proudly for the young man to look at his works. His eyes glinted slightly at the young customer, "If you could help them find an appropriate master, I would gladly discount the prices for you."
"Hmmm," the young man hummed as he picked one up after the other, examining them closely. He was holding the mermaid when his eyes roamed over her. "Ah, what have we here?" He picked her up, and in an instant, he broke into a wide grin. "I think we found something."
"Quite a good choice sir," the old man complemented when he looked over and saw what the young man chose. "I only just created her three nights ago. Would you like her packed up?"
"Please," the young man returned. After a moment's pause, he added, "do you happen to do delivery services too?"
"Yes indeed, I can people to help deliver out the pieces. Do you have a particular location you want to send it to?"
"There is and here's the address," the young man muttered as he wrote down the address. He drew a letter from his pocket and gave it to the old man, "include this letter with the package. Thank you." He made the payment and left.
Soon enough, she was wrapped up in beautiful gift papers and placed in a dark box, whereto she has no idea.
~oOo~
Ding dong.
The delivery boy waited patiently as he pressed the bell for the umpteenth time. In the course of doing so, he had checked and rechecked to make sure that it was the right address. So why was there no one answering the door? Perhaps there was no one at home? If so, why was there music booming from the second floor?
There it sounded again, the annoying tinkle of the doorbell. He would need to change it sometime soon before it drove him crazy. Whoever was at the door did not take the hint for them to get lost. He was determined to ignore the person at the door as he closed his eyes in deep contemplation, trying to catch the lost rhythm.
Ding dong.
The clear chime of the bell rang through his ears again regardless of the loud music in the background. He sighed. There was no use in feigning ignorance. He set his headphones down and made his way to the big door downstairs.
The delivery boy was about to press the bell again when the door was abruptly yanked back on its hinges to present a highly agitated man.
"Yes?" The man grated.
"Sir, are you Mr. InuYasha?" When the man nodded, the delivery boy thrust the package into his arms. "I have a delivery for you from a certain Mr. Miroku. All you need to do is sign here to acknowledge that you have received the package. Be careful, the package is fragile. Have a good day sir!"
InuYasha slammed the door shut as he made his way back to his room. He tore off the excessive wrapping paper. The first thing that he saw when he opened the box was a letter written on a piece of extravagant paper. He crossed his room while reading the letter out loud:
Dear InuYasha my friend,
With your busy schedule and clouded mind, I am sure you must have forgotten about your birthday. So it is my obligation, as your one and only true friend, to remind you that your special day is next week. Unfortunately, I must be attending a conference during that time, and therefore I will not be coming over.
But fear not! Being the considerate person that I am, I have not failed to send you a present. Seeing that you are quite the artist, I thought there is nothing more fitting than to send you an artistic work. Encased inside the package (assuming you haven't broken it yet in your roughness) is a miniature glass sculpture of the utmost excellence, carved by the great master himself (well…that's what he claimed anyways).
Let's hope that the glass girl will bring you luck in finding an actual partn—Ah sorry, my dear Sango had decided to intervene, I must end my letter now before she jeopardize it.
May you have a very lovely birthday!
From the Ever Lecherous.
InuYasha scoffed at the end of the letter. Trust it for Miroku to tag a perverted comment on every single thing. He reached inside the box and pulled out a wrapped parcel. After struggling with the papers and tape, he finally managed to get a glimpse of his present. What he saw took his breath away.
The glass sculpture that rested in his hand was quite exquisite. The morning light filtered through the transparent being, giving it an unearthly glow. InuYasha examined the sculpture, turning it in all sorts of angles to marvel at its beauty. On the bottom of the sculpture was the word "Kikyo". Chinese bellflower? He thought to himself. Perhaps it was the name that the master gave to his piece of work, just like how he would give titles to his songs.
On the other hand, Kikyo had been quite astounded too. After several days of being enclosed inside a dark box, she finally saw the light of day again. But what she did not expect to see was the man holding her. He was very much like a masterpiece himself, perfectly chiseled with just right balance of flaws to enunciate his perfection. His hair was long and dark, tied in an unruly ponytail that extended to his waist. They lay haphazardly across his back, drawing lazy patterns. His thick eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he studied her with admiration shining in his violet orbs. She was stunned by the depth in those lilac eyes. They reflected all sorts of emotions, though the current one was of utmost awe.
Was that her new master? There was a quiet thump.
~oOo~
Several months flew by, and Kikyo considered herself a lucky glass woman. Although she missed watching the golden sunset, the feel of the tidal waves caressing her, she could still entertain herself with listening to her master sing. Through the time that they had been in each other's presence, she learned that he was a talented composer and an amazing singer too. He would sing his own music to test out the sounds and lyrics. His smooth baritone voice thrilled her to no ends.
In the course of knowing him, Kikyo learned that there was a change in his music. At first, his songs were filled with firing passion and raging choruses; but ever since she came, he started writing songs about lamented affection and couples in their dying throes of love. Late at night, he would sit by the window side, humming his songs quietly to himself. He would stare out of his window aimlessly, while his mind was buried in deep thoughts only known to him. It was as if he discovered a new side of himself, a side that sought for adoration, and the desperation of which was reflected in the depth of his violet eyes and music. It was at those times that she wished she could become a real girl, to sit by his side and sooth his restless soul.
Was she the one that caused such a change in her master's demeanor? Part of her wanted to think that she had an influence over him, but if it was so, the other part of her cried over the pain she caused him. Subsequently, more and more thumps were heard from deep within her body.
That was when she realized that her little glass heart had fallen deeply in love (something that she thought she had never been capable of). But this love was impossible, wasn't it? She could never touch him or talk to him for the matter. All she could do was pray for his happiness from the confines of her heart. What cruel twist of fate was this?
~oOo~
"Hey Yash, some people had been asking you about your new change in musical style. Mind telling me what brought this abrupt change?" Miroku commented as he lazed on his friend's sofa. Rumors had that InuYasha was dumped by a secret girlfriend, but Miroku knew better than that. Perhaps his friend was undergoing a midlife crisis? He sniggered at the thought.
"Keh," InuYasha exhaled slowly, thinking about how he would phrase this, "if you really wanted to know, it has something to do with the sculpture you gave me." Miroku cocked his eyebrow and leaned forward. "Every time I looked at her, I saw something lonely, someone that wanted to break through her confines. And somehow, a part of me reciprocated that feeling." He turned around to see Miroku staring at him in bemusement.
"You know, I can never understand artists. You people interpret the world in the strangest of ways; it's as if you saw a soul in her." Miroku shook his head.
"It's only with this sort of mindset that we are capable of creating new pieces," InuYasha replied, used to these sorts of comments. But what is this feeling? This feeling of wanting someone to complete a part of me? This feeling that was inspired by a mere piece of glass? InuYasha had never thought about relationship problems since he was too engrossed in his works to do so. Somehow now it was the only thing he could think of.
Kikyo's heart skipped a bit. She had been right in assuming that she was the one that elicited a change in her master's personality. The new realization that she was the center of his new personality change was both endearing and heart-wrenching. She wanted to be the one that curb his loneliness, not fuel it.
Miroku took this opportunity to interrupt his friend, "You know, I think my comment about you having a girlfriend still holds. I have always been wondering why you didn't get one yet. You should give love a chance. How about we go to the bar tonight? Who knows, a miracle might occur and you will land yourself with a woman who can stand your weird ways."
InuYasha frowned. While he was willing to give love a chance, he was not willing to offer it whimsically to a girl at some random bar. "I'll pass, I have work to do anyways," he lied as tactfully as he could. Unfortunately, being his long-time friend, Miroku was able to see through his act.
"Quit the act already, you are just afraid of loaning out your love freely," Miroku slugged an arm across his friend's shoulder. "Besides, it wouldn't hurt to rest awhile from your depressing works." He maneuvered InuYasha away from the pile of music sheets on his desk, pushing him non-too gently towards the door.
"It would be a miracle indeed if I did find a woman in such a haphazard way," the musician muttered to himself.
InuYasha did give a try at love – no, he gave multiple tries at love, what with all the women that he brought back for dinner. But those relationships only lasted for a few weeks before they were broken. In fact, his songs only turned more and more sorrowful as time passed by. It was not working: he could not feel any strong ties between him and the women that he hangout with. They were attractive, intelligent, and cute, but it never felt right to be with them. And as an artist, feelings were a big part of his life.
On the other hand, Kikyo had been suffering. Although she wished with all her might that he would find true love and happiness, something inside her clenched with disappointment every time she saw him walk in with another woman. Not that he did anything inappropriately with those women – gentleman that he was – but she wanted herself to be that woman beside him.
One night, from her position on the mantel, Kikyo could see a sliver of the night sky through the window. A comet streaked across the sky. It was at this moment that Kikyo wished that she could become a full human being, even if it was only for a month so that she could stay by her master's side.
The next day, InuYasha woke up feeling slightly different. He knew instinctively that something was missing in his house. He searched high and low; willing himself to find whatever that was missing, but came up with nothing. That was, until he decided to write his music. When he casted a look in the direction of the sculpture for inspiration, he realized that his beloved sculpture was missing.
~oOo~
"Yash, take off that scowl or you'll scare your date away," Miroku said as he watch his friend down another glass of beer. Well…InuYasha's date was already gone anyways, complaining about how 'cold' he was tonight.
"I'm not in the mood to entertain anyone," InuYasha replied breezily, waving for the bartender for a refill.
"Was it another one of your artistic mood swings again?" Miroku also waved for the bartender to refill his.
"Why yes, it's called the abyss of depression," InuYasha said sarcastically. "My latest source of inspiration is missing, and without it, I'm stumped. I lost the glass sculpture."
"Why didn't you say that earlier?"Miroku exclaimed as he clapped his friend's back, "I could have easily bought you another one, though they are quite expensive even with the discounts." He mused.
"It's not the same," InuYasha pushed Miroku's hand roughly away. "Every piece of artwork is unique and they can never be replicated again." He sighed wearily, "where am I going to get another inspiration?"
"Leave me alone."
The moonlight casted an eerie glow upon the shadows of four figures in the alley. Three were men, while the fourth one belonged to a woman. The men were surrounding the lone woman like a pack of wolves who had just found a little gazelle.
Truth be told, Kikyo had no idea how she ended up in the middle of park, dressed in the plain white nightgown that her creator had carved on her. She only remembered herself wishing last night that she could become a real human. The next thing she knew, there was darkness and she awoke in the middle of the afternoon in an unknown park. It was a strange feeling to be a real human and move around on her own free will. She spent the most of the day staring at herself in the park's fountain and questioning how this happened. Later, as she wandered around the unfamiliar district, she lost track of time and found herself in an alley in the dark. That was when she encountered the three men.
"You are quite a catch, aren't you?" One of them – presumably the leader – leered at her, his eyes dragging over her scantily-clad form. "Why don't you join us at the bar down the street?"
As the trio moved closer, Kikyo picked up a strong smell that set her staggering. The men were reeking of alcohol, which only meant that they were drunk. While Kikyo was surprised by the heavy smell, one of the men grabbed her and pulled her towards him. Unprepared for the sudden force, Kikyo toppled over into the man's chest. She shuddered slightly at the mixture of alcohol and cheap cologne.
"Looks like this beauty have better curves than I thought! She is hiding it under her nightgown," the man grinned as he felt Kikyo's body through her thin nightgown.
"Don't you dare touch me," Kikyo hissed as she tried to untangle herself.
"Nah, it would be a pity to let you go. Boys, let's feast upon our catch tonight!" The man holding Kikyo tugged the skirt of her nightgown upwards to reveal pale thighs. Said woman increased her struggles much to the delight of the males present. She felt the dress continue its upward progress over her hips, exposing her nakedness to the world. "Surprise, surprise, the vixen doesn't wear undergarments." The men hooted.
She had never felt this…...violated before. She was not sure if this upsetting feeling she was having right now was referred to as being violated. It was an entirely foreign feeling for her, but she knew that she didn't like it. Her glass heart was beating, faster and faster, and she could hear cracks in it. Vaguely, she felt her nightgown being torn aside, its ripping sound shredding the night sky. But that would be the only sound from her tonight. Kikyo repeated over and over to herself that she would not make one sound that would otherwise satisfy the males that were touching her. That was her last strand of dignity, and she would protect it with her little glass heart.
Somehow, the allegro rhythm created by her heart caused it to shatter just a little…
~oOo~
"I don't see why you are so persistent about one small object," Miroku complained as the two of them exited the bar. He had drunk his fair share and was feeling rather tipsy.
"That is because it carries an intrinsic value," InuYasha murmured, unwilling to debate with a drunken man.
"Awww, Yash, I never knew you appreciate my gifts so much. I'll be sure to send you something bigger next time around," Miroku wiggled his eyebrows.
"It's not because it is a present from you that it is valuable," InuYasha replied, smirking slightly at the deflated man next to him. "It's because I see something in the sculpture. I see a soul in it." From the way his companion was grinning beside him, he guessed that Miroku didn't comprehend his view at all. Or his friend just decided to interpret it wrongly.
Suddenly, InuYasha stopped and listened intently. He could hear what seem to be struggles in the alley ahead of him, followed by ripping sounds. While the rational side of him insisted that it was just a prostitute with her man, the emotional side of him was yelling out at him to go and investigate. And being an artist, he always followed his emotions.
Things were getting ugly for Kikyo. The men were closer to claiming her body and what was worse was that they were clumsy and rough. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth as she felt herself being forced into an uncomfortable position.
"Let her go."
Thud.
Her glass heart leaped with unbidden excitement when she recognized the voice that haunted her dreams every night. She felt one of the men released her hands as he was thrown back roughly against the wall. Slowly, but surely, she opened her eyes to behold her master shoving the men aside. Fortunately for him, the men were too drunk to hold out against him, or else he would have been trapped in a difficult position.
As the men scampered away, InuYasha turned back to look at the women that they were trying to ravish. What he saw took his breath away. The woman was unnaturally pale, yet it suited her well as it contrasted against her long obsidian hair. These were accented by her dark, hazel eyes. She looked too high-class to be a prostitute. After a prolonged silence, he realized that he was staring at her unabashedly. Quickly, he averted his face and handed her his outer jacket.
"Here, take this. A woman shouldn't be walking around this district in the middle of the night," he mumbled. "You should go home quickly now."
"But I have no home to return to." InuYasha was surprised by the calm voice that the woman spoke in. He reveled in the softness of the tone. More so, he was surprised by the intense gaze that the woman was directing to him, as if she knew him.
Something compelled InuYasha to protect the woman, and without an immediate solution at hand, he proffered his own house.
~oOo~
Three weeks had gone by and things have changed drastically. The couple bonded instantaneously. Once again, InuYasha's works flourished, although with a different mood. His music was bounteous with trills and ties, sometimes ricocheting like the orchestra of a thousand birds, other times smooth as the flowing river. They were nominated many times by the audience as the best music of the modern era. But none made him happier than the woman who was constantly by his side – his inspiration. She would always sit quietly beside him as he wrote and sing his music. She would wear a serene expression with her dainty lips curved up into a smile. What mystified him though was the fact that she would never reveal her name to him, opting to keep an enigmatic smile whenever he asked about it. Soon, he learned to accept the fact that she would not disclose her name that easily, just like how he would use his artist name in public rather than his real name.
Likewise, it was a golden period for Kikyo. She enjoyed the company of the man beside her. She loved hearing his velvet voice slipped from his open mouth. She observed his closed eyes as he thought in contemplation. She filled herself with his – no, their music. Yet she knew that her time with him was coming to an end. She had wished to the shooting star to stay with him for one month, and the month was almost up. And so, she decided to leave him in the gentlest of ways and give him an unforgettable memory.
On the last night that Kikyo remained human, the couple traversed the beach where she came from. She slipped her hands gently into his, and quietly hummed his tune. When they were near the waves that she was so familiar with, she turned and looked him in the eyes.
"Do you believe in magic?"
InuYasha cocked his head quizzically. "That's a strange question, but yes, I do believe in magic. This is how I see music, how I integrate souls into my pieces."
"So you believe that everything contains a soul?" Kikyo's eyes sought his. He could see a hint of desperation in her eyes.
"Yes, I do." He saw that she was satisfied with his answer. He had no idea why she seemed so happy with his response, but the smile on her face was worth it. Slowly, they leaned into each other and their lips met softly.
That night, the two of them consummated their love with fiery passion. At the end of the session, they were left breathless, tangled in each other's arms. InuYasha had never felt anything like this before: an intense combination of satisfaction, bliss and love that trembled through his soul. He looked at the woman in his embrace and realized that she was the one for him. With that realization, he fell into a deep slumber.
Kikyo opened her eyes and traced her fingers lightly across InuYasha, engraving every detail into her mind.
~oOo~
Morning yielded an empty house and a lone man on his bed. InuYasha awoke to find his bed cold and empty. Any traces of Kikyo in the house were gone. It was as if she never existed before.
"You have been played, buddy," Miroku patted his friend on his back. "That woman only wanted your money."
The two friends were sitting in InuYasha's abode for an afternoon tea, discussing InuYasha's current predicament.
"But she didn't take anything," InuYasha countered, his frustrations evident on his disheveled hair. He kicked a stool roughly out of the way, satisfied in the loud crash said object made with the window. "If she was out for the money, she would have taken something from the house before she left."
"Then she must have left for another man," Miroku sipped his tea, "Didn't you found it suspicious that she never gave her name to you?"
Now that Miroku pointed out the fact blatantly, it seemed rather odd that the woman never gave her name. Was it true that she found another man? It must be so. This time, InuYasha hurled a metal vase across the room to vent his building anger. He was about to heave his table too when he heard a clear crunching sound. Curious, he made his way to the vase and pulled the dented object away. There, underneath the vase, were pieces of glass. Glass that belonged to a small sculpture.
'No,' InuYasha bent down to pick up the glasses. How did the sculpture appear in such a place? He must have searched this place a hundred times before and the sculpture was never there. He did not know why his heart clenched so painfully at seeing the pieces, why his heart also shattered at the jingling sounds of broken glass. His hands tried to put the larger pieces back together. His eyes widen in sudden horror as he placed the two halves of the faces together.
"It seems like we have to help you buy a new sculpture, my friend. Hey, Yash?" Miroku stared at his friend that didn't reply. His friend's shoulder was quivering.
"No, no, no," InuYasha only muttered as he moved more pieces together. It cannot be, but the face was the same. The same calm yet distant eyes, the soft gentle smile, the lengthy straight hair…The rational part of him claimed that it was mere coincidence that the sculpture resembled the woman he loved; there could be no possible relationship between said object and human. Yet his heart did not cease its frenzied pace. The emotional part of him called out to his heart and smothered his sense of logic.
'Do you believe in magic?'
'So you believe that everything contains a soul?'
The words came hauntingly back to him. She had left him clues, clues that pointed out to what she really was. Why then would she seemed to unnaturally pale? Why would she be in an alley with a nightgown – the exact same one as the sculpture – in the middle of the night?
InuYasha stared at the glasses littered on the floor. If she was really the glass sculpture, he had just harmed her, perhaps fatally. He needed to do something quick before he lose the last grasp on his sanity.
"Hey Y-"Miroku stumbled a few steps back as his friend ran past him into the kitchen.
InuYasha came out with a broom and swept the glasses into a container. "Miroku, tell me where you bought this sculpture from!"
"Eh, well, it's the store down by the road over at the shore there –" Once again, Miroku was left speaking to air as InuYasha sped out of the house. The roar of engine could be heard outside as InuYasha's car drove out of the driveway.
InuYasha cursed at himself as he sped through the lanes. He did not wait for the green lights. He could care less. There! He could see the lone store by the roadside. Please, please, let the craft master be there!
Imagine his disappointment and confusion when he was told that the master was not present at the store. The men in the store gave him odd looks when he then inquired after the master's house.
"Sir, I am afraid that you must be deluded. The master has been dead for years. It would be a miracle if you managed to attain one of his works – they are rare and most are already donated to the museums. But if you wish to see his settlement before he passed away, you can go there." The store clerk pointed out the direction.
Once again, he was back in his car, speeding towards the house. What did they meant by the craftsman being dead for years? There was no possible way such a thing would happen, seeing that Miroku just bought the sculpture from him months ago. He even had proof of the master's work in the container next to him! If anyone was to make a mistake, it must be the people in the store.
Soon enough, he spotted a lone structure. On closer inspection, he realized that the small house was quite run down. There were no window panes, and the shutters flapped wildly against the wind. The house was lighted by the sunlight that penetrated through the holes in the roof. The place where the furnace used to be had collapsed on itself from years of long use. Rusted tools were left out on the wooden desk.
InuYasha managed to inquire a few residents living nearby the seashore. He was told the same story: the old craftsman had died a few years ago due to heart attack, presumably while he was working on his latest piece of work. All the pieces that were personally crafted by him were highly expensive and it was a wonder the composer laid his hands on one of his pieces.
The composer returned to the abandon house and sat there dumbly. He had now affirmed that there were strange gears working in the world and that magic seemed to be everywhere – the old man and his glass sculpture must be one of them. Now that the old man was no longer here, he had no idea how to fix the sculpture. Sure, he could bring it to another craftsman for it to be remolded, but it would never be the same thing. As an artist, he understood that most masterpieces cannot be recreated perfectly. He stared at the broken pieces of glass in misery.
'Do you believe in magic?'
'So you believe that everything contains a soul?'
Abruptly, he sat up as if a thunder had struck him. If everything contained a soul, then his voice would be heard. He hoped it would work, or else not only would the sculpture not be fixed, but he would also make a fool out of himself.
"Wherever you are, please listen to me!" He shouted into the house around him. "I have a glass sculpture that was created here and it was broken. I don't know where you are or if you are here in the first place, but please help me fix her. She is very important to me."
Silence greeted his outburst. In the background, the sea continued to lap at the shore. Running out of ideas, InuYasha sighed in dejection and turned around, ready to return home. He almost ran over the old man that stood behind him.
"You have called for me?" The old man's crinkled eyes smile up at him knowingly.
InuYasha did not know whether to freak out or not, but since the crafts master was here, he might as well give it a shot. "Yes, you see, the sculp-" The old man waved for InuYasha to stop.
"I have already heard of your plight," the old man said as he turned to inspect the glass shards. "Poor thing…What would you give in return for me to fix this thing?"
"I would give anything."
"Anything?"
"I would give my life if need be, and my eternal love for her."
"Such strong words, my boy, but do you know what you are offering in exchange for an object?"
"She is not an object. She is a woman that my heart fell in love with, a woman who had lighted up my life and the music around me. I would ask for none other." InuYasha replied firmly.
"I like your answer," the old man nodded approvingly and slowly dissipated in the air. "I finally found another person who truly values my work." With a final nod of his head, he disappeared entirely and InuYasha was left with the ancient house again.
It took him a stumped moment to realize what happened. "Wait, what about saving her?" InuYasha shouted desperately into thin air.
"The deed has already been done," a familiar voice flowed faintly into his ear, followed by a delicate touch on the shoulder. InuYasha whirled around to see Kikyo standing there, her eyes no longer cold and distant, but twinkling with warmth that was never there before. "Your declaration has touched my creator, and he bestowed upon me a new life."
InuYasha was at a loss of words. He stroked Kikyo's face to make sure that she was truly there, flesh and blood. Satisfied that the woman was not going to disappear anytime soon, he gathered her up into a tight embrace. "I thought I almost lost you back there. You have no idea how scared I was."
Kikyo returned the embrace with equal fervor. "Remember what I said about magic? Even when I was shattered, I can still hear your cry and your heart. Even then, my heart beat for yours, and I wished that I can console you again. Now that I am an ordinary woman, I can stay forever beside you."
"Does that mean that you are going to marry me?" InuYasha pulled back and grinned happily at her.
"I have always wanted to ever since I met you." Kikyo returned his joyous smile.
"I love you."
"I love you too."
A/N: Here's an early Valentines-dedicated fic! It was originally written for the Chinese valentines last year (which is around July), but with my busy schedule, I never got around to finishing it. But now I did and was just in time for the Western Valentines! :) Hope you like it and enjoy!