Nine
…don't turn around and call me a copy…
When her eyes opened, a gnarled, withered man looked down at her. He coughed at her gasp of surprise. "Young ones should not be sleeping here," he croaked.
Cold spring water and clotting wounds were made aware, but even greater the alluring light. A Shikon Jewel shard. The old man coughed again knowingly of her gaze, patting his tattered armor and pulling out a purple shard.
"This is the only thing keeping me alive."
The soul sang to Kagome, a tired, weary song. Only hanging on to life for regret of the past, for fear of hell.
"You seem to have spiritual power." He seemed to want to speak more, but coughs stifled his voice. He was dying.
She leapt to her feet, purifying away a lurking apparition with her hands. What gave her the power without sacred arrows? She herself did not know.
"Why do you save a man like me? I have done evil in my days."
She wanted to hear his story, learn of the tragic tales battered by time.
The man was called Rasetsu, once a proud and merciless bandit leader. Pride faded, glory crumbled, as time left him a weakened old man. Tricked by a bandit called Onigumo, he had attacked a priestess said to guard the Shikon Jewel fifty years ago. Now it was but a faded memory, a blurred image of fear, pain, humiliation, and anger.
As death stalked closer to him, he traveled more desperately, trying to find a resting place safe from retribution. Finally when he was all but completely worn away, he wandered into a forest and saw the young priestess floating asleep in a spring.
"You know, you look just like the priestess from fifty years ago."
"What was her name?"
"Kikyo."
Author Note: In the canon, Kikyo is the one who meets Rasetsu, not Kagome. But this is my story. Thank you so much for all the support from readers! Read and review!
Words: 300
Nine: Arabic numeral "9" is the reflection of "6" turned around.
