The Sun had just begun to set, spreading the most gorgeous of shades of pinks, reds, oranges, and blues throughout the skyline. Beneath it, the city of Tokyo continued on with its usual, end-of-the-day bustling. Shops closed up, their bells jingling softly as the front doors locked and the lights went off. Kids made their way back from school, walking in groups and laughing, just like any other day. Adults returned home from work, some to their families, others to an empty apartment, thinking wistfully of that person they've been dying to talk to. The buses stopped along their routes, picking up and dropping off. Impatient drivers wove through traffic, cursing that they'd never make it home at this rate. A few of the less fortunate huddled under discarded newspapers on a park bench, thinking that if they could only find a way to get the money in the next few minutes, they could make it to their dealer for one more hit and sleep peacefully for tonight at least.
A middle-aged woman hurried around her home, putting the finishing touches on a modest dinner before reaching for the cabinets to set the table. Outside, her son met his grandfather halfway up the stairs and held out his hand for the old man's broom and handed him a walking stick instead, so that the short walk would be easier on his old bones. When the two generations reached the home, the woman smiled at them and beckoned them to the table. The family was small and no stranger to loss. Even so, there were four place settings and the woman looked out the window and wondered where the last member of her family was.
The area just outside the city was quiet. Birds flew back to their nests, preparing for the night. A silver-haired youth hopped down from his perch in of the trees and landed silently on the ground. He carefully picked his way through the countless names inscribed on glossy-finished rocks until he reached one at the top of the hill. He stood quietly for what seemed like hours before looking down at his attire. Plain dark jeans and a dark long-sleeved shirt. He laughed humourlessly to himself when he realized that he didn't even have flowers. Every other time he had come, he had always brought something. But maybe that was the point.
He kneeled down and contemplated the name on the stone. A name he had somehow come to share with the ashes of the girl lying beneath it, though not in the way he had originally intended. His fingers traced over the name and his eyebrows furrowed as he tried to remember exactly when and how he began to possess this name. He supposed that it had happened over time. The girl had brought him into her family without him ever realising it. And then, when she was gone, her family continued what she had started. It worked out, in an odd sort of way. He had lost his mother when he was young and this woman had felt for him. When she lost her own daughter, he had felt for her. He had stopped by whenever he could and eventually began staying in an attempt to fill a hole inside of him that craved to be needed by someone you care deeply for.
At first it had been difficult. Everything reminded him of her. It had seemed so unfair that the world kept moving, even in her absence. Didn't the world know of the beautiful, irreplaceable person that they had lost? But as time passed, he felt himself healing. Yes, he still thought of her every day. And every day, he got a little sad. But he also felt this strength well up inside him every time he looked at his new family. He learned more about their world and his ever-growing part in it. There were ways of expressing himself that he had never dreamed of; ways to help that he would have never imagined, had he never let himself let go of his grief.
He stood, and thought suddenly of the home that was waiting for him. His stomach gave a low murmuring as he realised that he would probably be late for dinner. He felt a smile come to his face when he thought that after dinner was finished, he would probably play with her brother on some new 'game system' that he had received for his birthday. Super Crush Brothers, or something of the sort.
He looked at the grave marker and tried to think of something to say. He knew that her bleeding heart would have been in turmoil, had she still been alive to see his suffering. That he loved her didn't need to be said; there was no way that she couldn't know. He knew what she would have wanted to hear as he turned to leave. He leaned his head back, hair catching the last rays of the Sun which was slowly sinking below the horizon. 'Kagome...' He smiled, a clear image of her in his mind.
"I'm okay."
Author's Note:
So it's been about three years since I put out this [previously a] oneshot. I sort of stumbled upon my old account here after some inspiration for another fandom, and rediscovered this. As I mentioned at the start of chapter one, this little number was highly inspired by my own grief after the loss of one of my good friends and I felt that since I was eventually able to let go and build my life up and become stronger, I could afford poor Inuyasha here the same courtesy. :) I apologise if it seems to be a little too personal or out of character, but it's really just a nice little outlet for me. I'd also like to thank everyone who had reviewed the first chapter and to be so bold as to pre-emptively thank anyone who reviews in the future. They are very much appreciated. :) As for the rest of the group back in the Feudal Era... I would like to imagine that he goes back and visits often and then gets into a fight with Sesshoumaru for kicks. XD
So thanks again, and I hope you enjoyed reading!
Lindsay