Chapter nine part two!
Yay I'm updating. I spent four days working on this plot the whole story up until the this chapter has been based on the thought that there was going to be a ghost. Not any more.
I should have probably been doing my homework though.
Chapter dedication: black-sakura27, haha you're really funny! Thank you for reviewing. Every review that you send me is quirky and has made me laugh even on my bad days. Thank you for that.
Miroku locked eyes with me as if our minds were communicating. Sango's thumbs were fidgeting in her lap as she watched the water pour from the hands of the fountain. Droplets of water started to sprinkle from the sky above us. It was like the clouds or even God was crying softly at the story I was about to tell them.
"Should we head in side?" Sango asked still preferring to stare at the water then make eye contact. Silence hung in the air for a minute as we thought about the suggestion.
Miroku and I stared at each other and a small up turn of his lips let me know that he somehow read my mind. "I think getting caught out in the rain may be good for us actually."
"If you say so," Sango whispered and scooted closer to Miroku to generate more body heat. He slipped his arm across her back to have his hand rest on her hip.
"Kagome," Miroku said, getting back into our original conversation. "What's been going on with your dad?"
My eyes slid closed as I thought how to answer that particular question in the right way. "He's become a drunk. Mom's death has torn him in everyway possible."
"How did it progress to this though?" Sango asked. "He was such a lively man, always smiling and laughing. Not in a million years would I have thought to see him the way I had today."
"When Mom got worse and she was always in the hospital, it was like he had been admitted with her," I explained. "He was always by her side and I rarely saw him at home. If he was home, though, he was asleep. Then if Sota and I were at the hospital visiting mom, he would be at home or checking in with her doctors."
"You never saw him?" Miroku asked and I shook my head before continuing.
"When we found out about the move," I paused and closed my eyes, letting the rain wash over me, "It was through a note left on the fridge. The note had a date the movers would pick up our stuff."
"I remember that. You and your brother were so heart broken," Sango said. "The two of you had to contact all your teachers and both or your principles and let them know and fill out all the forms required."
"So it was like you were taking the place of parent?" Miroku asked with a lower tone in his voice that made him sound sadder.
"I understood that he had to be at the hospital," I said, a rumbled echoes over the yard as the rain picked up to coat them in a layer of water. "It was just harder for us to deal with never seeing out father when we were losing our mother."
"You could have said something to me," Sango's voice came out as soft as a whisper over the pattering of the rain and the shaking thunder.
"Speaking from experience, Sango," Miroku looked at her with a small, reassuring smile, "It doesn't matter how close your friends are; you will always want your families comfort more then anything. To hear the soothing words of a parent or the arm of a sibling." Sango remained silent as she pondered the words Miroku had spoken. "Were you at the hospital when your mother passed on?" Miroku's words made me inwardly wince from the pain of the memory."
Taking a deep breath, I held back my tears and sorrow. "No; I was at school. This might seem a little weird…but I need to tell someone." Sango looked up from her lap with a confused, yet comforting look, on her face.
"Go on," Miroku urged me on.
"I was in math getting help on a problem," I stopped my story for a second thinking back. It was one of those times when I start making random and inappropriate connections to my stories. Like with this one, involving math; I used to have a tutor that would help me everyday after school when I was Sota's age. Shaking my head to clear my mind, I jumped back into my story. "We had known for sometime my mother wasn't going to be around much longer, but father suggested that we still attend class everyday."
"Why?" Miroku asked, his features as hard as stone.
"He didn't want us to see our mother in the condition she was in," I explained with misty eyes. "She was thin and frail. We loved her no matter what she looked like. But he didn't want her to feel ashamed for the way she looked. At least we got to see her after school for an hour before we were ushered out. "
The two sitting away from me were starting to make me feel sad or maybe even a bit sick from the sympathetic looks they were giving me. I've been given that look so much that I can't stand it anymore. The look that says 'Oh your mother died from cancer, you poor thing, life must be so hard for you. But I'm happy that it's not me in your place.'
"Anyways," I said decided the sky was safer place for my eyes. The water pouring down was drenching us as I thought about what words to use. "I was getting help from the teacher, when out of nowhere; it felt like my body just shut down. My heart clenched tight and I could hardly breathe. Tears were pouring down my face and my hands were shaking uncontrollably. The whole time this was happening I could see an image of my mother walking in a garden."
I shut my eyes, calling up the memory of my mother. "It was a beautiful place, and I've never actually seen it before. She was in a flowing dark blue dress and her hair had grown back in dark waves around her shoulders. Mom was standing on a little wooden bridge over a stream that was surrounded by gorgeous flowers, trees, and bushes. But I didn't recognize the place she was at in this image.
"The teacher thought I was losing my mind over the fact that I couldn't figure out the answer to the problem," I explained to them. "She was trying to calm me down and I could hear the voices of my classmates behind me chattering about what was going on. One girl in particular screamed my name as I saw everything turn upside down before my vision went black. I had fainted and when I woke up I was in the nurse's office and there beside me, was a woman who looked somewhat similar to me. She had a narrower face and higher cheek bones though. It was almost like looking into a reflection."
"Who was she?" Sango asked on the edge of her seat. Miroku squeezed her hand.
"I don't know, she never told me," I shrugged like it was no big deal. "She was sitting next to me and for once someone didn't look at me with pity or concern. Her expression was emotionless and straight forward. I remember her saying something, it sounded corny at the time.
"She said, 'You have a long journey left in front of you. He will find you, but don't fret child. There is an angel watching over you now who has come to us recently asking for you. Two of us are making sure no harm is done to you by this man. When you meet him, at first he will seem a nice caring man who is rough around the edges. Don't be fooled now, he is deceiving you. He is a murderer and is trying to worm his way into your soul to take it for your very last breath. This is a warning dear child, he is coming for you.'
"I still don't know what she meant by any of that though," I sighed and brought my head down and ran my fingers through the wet strands of my black hair. "After her speech my vision went black again. The next time I woke up to see Sango and the nurse hovering over me."
"You looked so confused," Sango told me. "I remember you looking around for something, but you would never say what you wanted."
"At first I thought it was dream," I admitted to them. "But now with meeting Inuyasha, I don't think it is a dream anymore." Getting back to my story, I wiped the water away from my eyes. My clothes were completely drenched from the rain. "That day I went home from school with Sota and there was a voice mail from Father on the answering machine. Our mother had passed away at 11:49 that morning. Funny thing is that was the exact time that I went and got help in my math class and fainted. I don't know exactly what you believe, but I had a strong connection with my mother."
"What happened to your dad after your mom's death?" Miroku asked. My head fell back to stare at the rain drops falling from above me. The water ran down my arms leaving goose bumps trailing after them. The bench's stone edge bit into my thighs as I thought how to answer this question.
"Well you can clearly see," I told them. "He isn't the same man he used to be. After the funeral he wouldn't come home at night and he would spend all day at work," my voice wobbled and I paused to gain control of my emotions. "If he was home it would only be for an hour or so to clean up before work.
Raindrops pelted the ground and I stood up and turned my back to them. This way I couldn't see the pity in their eyes. My arms wrapped around my stomach and I breathed deeply before continuing.
"That when we started seeing more notes, then we saw him," I explained. "I remember one time I stayed home from school after I had sent Sota off to the bus." I closed my eyes, letting the memories flood back as if it were happening at this very moment.
The sun hadn't risen yet and my long black hair was wet from recently getting out of the shower. My nervous hands pulled on the ankle socks I had bought a few days earlier. After slipping my tennis shoes on, I sat up and notice a dirt smudge on my dark American Eagle jeans, and I started to pick at the dirt, trying to remove the mark before I sat back and started looking through the bills that were almost due.
A scraping noise drew my attention to the front door and I waited patiently on my couch. The door slowly opened and my father stumbled in. He mumbled something about moving locks and I stood to great him. My movement caught his eye and he dropped his briefcase and keys in the hallway to stare absently at me.
His appearance made me want to cry. I couldn't help but stare at him as if the world was crashing down and I had walked in to find everyone dead and gone. My heart sank as I looked him up and down and saw the man who I had been calling my father.
His eyes were blood shot and he hadn't shaved in a couple of weeks, which made me wonder if he had taken time off of work or just not shown up. My hands tightened into fists at my side, digging my nails into my palm to keep my emotions in check. He looked like a hobo off the streets in the city and we were on the wealthy side of society.
"Where's Sota?" his voice was thick and shaky. I watched as he breathed heavily and his half opened eyes were trained on me.
'At least he remembers my brother's name,' I remember thinking. "He left for school a few hours ago."
"Then why are you here?" he slurred the word 'you' as he fiddled with his clothing, attempting to make them look neater. "Don't you have school?" I winced as his tongue fumbled over his speech.
"I didn't feel like going to school today." I didn't want to tell him that bills were due soon and stress him out anymore. Those I could handle myself.
His eye brows furrowed as he looked at me and I waited for a lecture. "Okay." With that he walked away toward his bedroom and my mouth slightly dropped open and my eyes stayed on the spot he was at only a few seconds ago. Pressing my lips tightly together, I followed him.
"What do you mean 'Okay'?" I asked with furry and frustration clear in my tone. He turned and stared at me with a blank stare. I ignored the look and kept up my ranting. "What the hell is going on dad? You are never home, you leave post-its as your way of communication, Sota and I haven't seen you in practically a month, and we need our father back home."
"Kagome," he stopped in the doorjamb of his bedroom and turned to look at me. "Don't raise your voice to me. I am doing what I can to keep me together. If I can't keep myself together there is nothing but pain that I can give you. It is easier for me to be away then to see the sad you gave me when I walked through the front door!"
"I'd rather see you like crap then not see you at all!"
"You just don't get it do you!" he yelled at me and I took a step back at how sharp his voice was. "Your mother was my life and she was ripped from me. I just need a little bit to deal with this."
"What about us…." I whispered and tears started to trickle down my cheeks like an unwanted leak in a facet. "She was our mother and now she's gone from us too. What are we supposed to do? I'm practically raising Sota and I'm paying for groceries and the bills with what I make at the library. You're missing out on Sota's life. He talked about trying out for tennis dad. Bet you didn't know that."
He stared at me and I noticed his jaw was slightly shaking. I shook my head and walked away from him and toward my room.
Sitting back down on the stone bench I breathed in the fresh scent of the rain and pushed my wet hair out of my face. "Relatively soon after that we got the note that we would be moving."
"So you didn't see him again after that until the three of you left for Seattle?" Miroku questioned and I nodded concentrating on the sensation of the drops of water running down my face. "How did Inuyasha get into the picture?"
"I'm not really sure," I admitted to them thinking back to when I had thought I saw someone in the hallway. "He just slowly started to appear around the house. But Sota couldn't see him and I could, which baffled me. He was always around and it just got to the point that he became my best friend. No one at school would talk to me because I am the new girl with a depressing past and they don't want that drama senior year."
"Not every one is like that," Sango told me and I shrugged.
"I'm too 'shy' to show anything different," I told her. "To be honest I am okay with that because I can talk all I want when I come home with Inuyasha."
AN: hey guys, sorry it's taken so freaking long to update. Its Winterfest (like homecoming) at my school and I'm doing a lot for it. Blah. But it is slowly getting over and I am starting to get a little bit of free time here and there. I really hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it!
Please review, it lets me know that you still want me to write more! If you don't review then I just might not write anymore. How tragic