Spinster

Ch. 1

Looking back, I can see the silk-spun threads of his web, and I can't seem to figure out just how I missed them before, but then again, one is never made aware of the spider's web, until one is caught in it. And I am. I am caught in the snare, and he planned it all along. I was so foolish to believe. So foolish to think that he could ever feel. But perhaps I have learned now. Perhaps he was foolish to believe that I would never kill. I, the harmless, little butterfly, stuck in his web, could never hurt, could never manipulate. But I can. Oh, I can.

...:xxxxxXxxxxx:...

I am walking. Just walking. I am amongst the trees. They are bare, now. Their leaves have all fallen. Autumn is nearly passed and winter nears. I will return home in the winter, and then I shall count the days until spring, when I can see him again. The snowy season is harsh in the feudal era. I wouldn't survive, according to Inuyasha. He told me that I should simply go home, and return when the flowers bloom. So, I will. Inuyasha protects me. He cares for me. He lo—

But what's this? What is this I see in yonder clearing? Surely, I am imagining things. Surely, I am not seeing this. Surely, those are not his arms wrapped around her, not his lips pressed against hers, not his body atop her, not his hands working off her kimono. I look away. Do you know how it feels? Unwanted. Useless. I am a frivolity. He doesn't need me. She could detect jewel shards just as well as I, and obviously she's good for much, much more.

I lean against a tree. I know. I will go home. I will stay home for the winter and come back in the spring, just as planned. By spring, I will have forgiven him. I will have missed him so much, that nothing he's done could possibly upset me. It is because I love him. That is why I will return. That is why I will forget what I've seen.

I take off running, tears streaming down my face. I wouldn't say that I am crying. The tears are just there, of their own accord. Then again, they seem to multiply as long as the image of platinum tresses entangled with raven locks, their lips touching, his hands on her… Damn. New tears have come. I must forget. I must forget now. My vision is blurred and trees fly by. I am wondering why I have yet to trip. I'm not exactly watching my step. And there are so many roots. Mayhap, I am lucky, though luck seemingly avoids my, lately.

Ah, but at last. My foot collides with a protruding root, and I fall forward. I let out a gasp of surprise, though I was kind of expecting it. The ground hits me hard and steals my breath. I struggle for a few moments to inhale. Finally, my lungs fill with one, loud, dramatic intake of air. With this, I roll onto my back and look at the sky through a canopy of naked branches. Right now, I am wishing. I wish to sink into this ground and forever more live as dirt. I would be very polite dirt, I promise. Always, I will let people walk on me, and never would I dream of getting in someone's eye, I swear. Just please. Make me dirt. Please?

The sky refuses to answer me. So, slowly, I push myself up, and steady myself with the assistance of a nearby sapling. I will walk the rest of the way to the well. I don't trust my legs right now. They are shaky as a fawn's.

A twig snaps behind me. I am too tired to think of it as a threat. Now, though, I think perhaps I should. My head clenches and my temple begins to throb. The edges of my vision are rimmed with black, and it's slowing creeping inward.

Help. I can't see. Please… I… can't… speak. I can't feel. I can't… Darkness. Why is it so dark? Oh God. Please. My kingdom for light. Wait, what's this?

A voice, "I think she's coming to." A woman. So familiar. So cruel. Light. What is that light? It is far too bright. I can see a shadow leaning over me, but passed that is only light. Bright, white light.

"Yes, in fact, I am sure. Her eyes are open."

A man, "Why have you brought her here? What use, have I, for her? She is no warrior. Her powers as a sorceress are less than exceptional. She is a waste of space," Yes. Why am I here? Who are these people? And yet their voices are so familiar.

"The Shiko--," she begins, but he cuts her off.

"You could have simply brought me the jewel."

A long pause, "I could not touch it, sir."

Footsteps. I shut my eyes tightly. "Then… shall I?" I feel something sharp against my jaw. A knife? It trails down to my collar, where the Shikon jewel hangs. He hesitates.

"It appears… that our young mage is cleverer than I thought," he walks away, "Inform me when she is in a condition to converse."

"Yes, Naraku."

Naraku? Yes, I know that name. He is the enemy. I am a prisoner.