Author's Note: Based on last chapter, one reviewer thinks Inuyasha is a bad-guy, too. :-) I tried to make last chapter fairly explanatory, assuming Kagome doesn't know about any of Naraku's powers... And it was Inuyasha who originally hurt Kagome.
Unscathed
Part .05 – Comfort
Complaining did not always work. At least not the way that it was supposed to. When one person complained, it was intended to inspire others to comfort and console the speaker.
But Kagome had a terrible record at this game. This was due to the fact that she could not recall whether she had whined about a particular issue before, and due the fact that any comfort she received tended to roll off her shoulders, like water off a duck.
For instance, when she had complained this morning to her grandfather, he had not comforted her at all. Instead, he had made her feel very foolish.
"Actually, my dear," Grandfather Higurashi explained, "People did bring you gifts in the hospital. The room was overflowing with them."
With a sigh, Kagome shuffled the large cardboard box she was holding onto her hip. She was at the shrine today, helping her grandfather renovate. Boxes of knickknacks, treasures, and family heirlooms seemed endless and inscrutable, as always.
"No, that's not what I mean," continued Kagome. "Maybe other students bought me flowers, get-well cards, or whatever... But in my journal it says, that Eri and Yuka told me, that everyone helped pay medical bills for the teacher who suffered an aneurysm. That doesn't seem..."
"Fair?" the old man interrupted her, merrily. If the grin on his face was any indicator, then he was obviously enjoying every second he spent with his granddaughter, however fussy she might be. "Others are not responsible for paying your medical bills, Kagome. Certainly not the students."
"Then, why would they offer to help raise money for a teacher?" she grumbled a little more. "It just made me think I'm a bad friend. People didn't like me as much as... some other guy... whose name I can't even remember anymore. Argh!"
Her grandfather merely laughed. "Ah! Now, you know how I feel all the time! When you get older, the memory begins to slip."
"Maybe I shouldn't even bother keeping a journal." Walking into the storage closet, she placed yet another giant box onto the ground, then stood and wiped her hands.
The closet was gradually beginning to fill, and the other storage closet beginning to empty. Yes, they were shuffling items from one storage space to another. But this was not as useless as it seemed! The next steps would be vital in the renovation project - stripping the paint, sanding the wood, and refinishing the other storage closet.
Grandfather Higurashi tugged absentmindedly on his beard. "Why do you say that?"
"Because it's full of useless information, and it just gets longer and longer. Keeping a journal is depressing because it shows how sick I am, and how I'm not getting any better."
The old man only shook his head from side to side. "I think you are much better!" he crowed happily. "Each time I see you, I am impressed at how far you have come."
With a sigh, Kagome rubbed the sweat off her forehead and looked at her grandfather forlornly. "Thanks. I guess someday this will be a distant memory, and I'll feel glad to have journals documenting my insanity," she muttered grumpily. But after a short pause, she brightened once more. "Oh! On the plus side - I write my dreams in the journal too, and early September was the first time I dreamed in Japanese again!"
Her grandfather looked surprised. "Were you dreaming in some other language, before?"
She couldn't help it. The giggles poured out of her. "No, I didn't hear 'words' at all. Only sounds that I understood, somehow. But this time, I dreamt of a stage production about a murder mystery! I was supposed to be helping the audience solve the crime."
"I shall be sure to tell my friends. Everyone wants to hear how you are recovering," he nodded solemnly. "Although strangely enough, half the time they tell me how they suffer similar symptoms. When you break a leg or sprain a wrist, most men don't want to hear about how it happened - secretly, they want to tell you about the time it happened to them!"
"Yes, " Kagome agreed complacently. "But 'comparative injury' stories don't work very well, in terms of short-term memory loss."
As they finished emptying the first storage closet, so that it could be refurbished, the eldest Higurashi continued. "You'd be surprised!" he exclaimed. "They just have stretch farther. I have heard about strangers having car accidents in Argentina, and someone's mother's cousin's friend who suffered head trauma years ago, and..."
"Oh! Good grief, that sounds awful," she sympathized. "How do you put up with it?"
Grandfather Higurashi just winked and tapped his nose. "I nod, smile, and I listen."
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Naraku had taken her to a new environment for their session. Or whatever it was that they were doing, together. At the moment, they were resting in a small, glass-enclosed courtyard, with a tree at the center of the area that provided plenty of shade. Benches dotted the yard, facing away from the windows toward the tree. Kagome wondered if the enclosure was inside the office building where Naraku generally visited patients, but she did not bother to ask, because she had probably asked already. That was just the way things went, most days. Always best not to demonstrate how forgetful she was.
The neuro-psychologist seemed restless today. And his discontent seemed to be rubbing off on Kagome. Sometimes when she was around him, she felt intensely uncomfortable, like there was a dark aura hanging over him. Deep inside of her, something would stir, ready to fight. Usually, Kagome managed to calm down again - but today - an unidentifiable thought was itching and scratching at the back of her mind, informing her that sitting on anything resembling a park bench, with a doctor, this was a Bad Idea. She didn't really know why it should be a problem, yet it was making her very uncomfortable.
"Did I tell you about the dream I had?" she asked quietly, shuffling her feet against the flat stones in the courtyard, looking basically anywhere other than at her doctor. "About Inuyasha and his wish on the Shikon no Tama?"
"Yes," Naraku agreed blankly. "But you may discuss it with me again. Do tell me about 'Inuyasha and his wish.' " As he spoke the last few words, they sounded slightly acidic.
Ironically, this flattered Kagome. The dream had been about Inuyasha hurting her, and Naraku did not seem to like Inuyasha any more than she did, at the moment. That meant he was displeased to hear about someone injuring her. A sweet, protective gesture, when she thought about it. Perhaps there was a pleasant side to regaining awful memories and sharing them with others.
"Oh, I don't know," she evaded the question. "I can't begin to imagine why he would have wished to become a full-demon."
Sunlight sprinkled down through the leaves overhead, as a breeze swayed through the courtyard. Kagome leaned back, gazing up at the tree.
"Is that so?" Naraku rejoined impassively.
He smelled like coffee, and there were five empty paper cups in the nearby trash can. How long had they been sitting here? The coffee cups in the wastebasket might have belonged to other people, however. This looked like a public courtyard.
Naraku's restlessness was back in full force, now. Reaching to the back of his head, the dark-haired man stripped the small tie from his formerly tidy curls. Then, he began to fidget with it. No, really! He sat there with the rubber band in his lap, stretching it between his fingers. Kagome stared. This seemed like extremely unusual behavior for her doctor. Since when did he fidget?
Eventually, the rubber band snapped. He threw it away. Without even a flicker of expression, he spoke again. "Sometimes, the secrets we harbor closest to our hearts are the ugliest ones."
The words drifted over her, and Kagome felt strangely drawn to him. Obviously, something was bothering the man. Since she didn't want to talk about the violent memory that she had regained of Inuyasha, then perhaps she could focus on comforting her doctor. After all, she had nothing better to do.
With a soft smile, she scooted infinitesimally closer to Naraku on the bench. "Well, not everyone has dark secrets!" she announced brightly. "And as long as you have someone to share them with, then it's not so bad... It might not bother you so much, if... I mean..."
Quickly running out of steam, Kagome bit her lip. Good heavens! Had she always been this dreadful at consoling people? That was not at all what she intended to say.
Apparently though, she had said enough. "Surely, you don't believe that," he replied. One corner of his lips slanted upward, but it was not exactly a smile, it was more like a sarcastic smirk. "Everyone has darkness within, even you. Think about it for a moment. You must have wanted something you could not have, at least once."
Kagome blinked. Then, retreating, she scooted even farther away on the bench, glaring at the flowers beneath the tree in the courtyard. "That's not the same thing as harboring a dark, ugly secret," she pouted, "That's just... thinking about life."
"Come now," Naraku said. An almost teasing quality entered his tone. "Don't you have a memory like this?"
Kagome rubbed her wrist nervously, wondering why she never seemed to remember to wear a wristwatch. She was always curious to know what time it was, yet somehow, she only remembered to wear one when she was alone. Or maybe not even then. She should write it on her daily list of things to do.
Perhaps she did not wear a watch, because of the inflamed skin around her arm. A raw looking scab circled her wrist. How strange.
What was the point of the entire conversation, again? She had been going to comfort Naraku. And he had managed to deflect her concerns, until she felt like the one withholding information, instead of the other way around. A neuro-psychologist was a very frustrating individual.
On the positive side, the frustration burned away any remaining nervousness that she possessed. It was easier to talk to her companion while she was ticked off with him. "Before my accident, I always wanted to be special," she told him, crossing her arms over her chest. "Now, I'm 'special' in the wrong kind of way. There! Happy?"
"No," he answered, before he tugged on the sleeve of her shirt, "That is not a secret, that is an obvious desire. Everyone has it. Pick something that you would never tell anyone else."
"I don't have any secrets like that."
All right, fine. Perhaps that was not true. After all, the definition of a secret was basically: 'something you don't want to tell anyone else.'
He looked unimpressed, if not outright disbelieving. They fell silent again.
Finally, she spoke. "Once I wanted to someone to die, very much." The memory of Inuyasha attacking her, it shivered through her brain like a broken dream. But it was in the past, she reminded herself firmly. He could not hurt her anymore. "He was trying to kill me. Desire rooted in self-defense is... less bad, right? I don't really want anyone to die."
"Everyone dies," Naraku told her calmly. "Time itself is the subtle destroyer of all we have built."
Evidently, he was still unimpressed with her reasoning. His voice sounded almost weary and a little bit cold. So, he was still chewing on a secret that he did not want to explain. Not even to a forgetful girl who would always keep the secret, because she wouldn't remember what he said.
Sliding forward until her shoes reached the grass instead of the paving stones, Kagome slouched on the bench. As she gazed at him, she thought long and hard about what Naraku had said. In the end, maybe he was correct. Dark secrets were the ones harbored most closely to the heart. The ones which she'd never tell. The fact that she was able to talk about certain things, maybe that meant they did not matter as much.
Honestly, then. What was something she would never ever tell him, not in a million years?
Sensing her insistent gaze, his soft, dusky red eyes slid over to meet her light blue-gray ones. Kagome blushed. Because for a moment, under a tree in a peaceful courtyard, dappled with spots of sunlight and shade, he looked breathtakingly handsome.
Hm, she thought. Well, maybe that would count. She definitely would not be telling her doctor that she liked him almost as much as she hated him.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
She blinked into the darkness, wondering what she had heard that woke her. Whatever it was, the room was completely quiet, now. It was also eerie, how dark the room was. Didn't she usually leave the curtains open over her...
Oh, yes. She was staying in Naraku's house. Not her own home.
Turning onto her side, she buried her head into the pillow. But sleep did not return. It was like endless silence and inky darkness actually distracted her, making her think too much to be able to rest. After a while, she tossed herself in the other direction, twirling the blankets around her figure as she rolled.
A stabbing pain briefly flared in her side, before fading away again. Kagome gasped, collapsing onto her stomach, hopelessly entangled in the blankets. What was that? It felt like a knife, entering her torso right above her hip.
When she placed her hands over the area, however, she could not feel anything wrong. No blood, bumps, splinters, or other damage had been done to her hip. She lay there for a few more minutes in silence, before finally dragging herself out of the bed and walking groggily over toward the restroom that attached to her chamber. Perhaps she just needed a bathroom break, and then she could sleep again.
Afterward, she washed her hands, and then, she made the mistake of glancing upward. A bleary eyed Kagome stared back at her through the mirror over the countertop. Come to think of it, she could not remember the last time she had actually looked in a mirror. No, no! This wasn't just her usual memory loss. This was something even more. She had not had any desire to look into the mirror in... well... since her accident.
Running her hands through her hair, Kagome considered this. The knowledge was there inside her brain, even if she did not know where it came from. Mirrors were bad, because then she would see what everyone else saw. A tired, disheveled, morose girl, who appeared older than she remembered being, with scars all over her body.
At the moment, she was wearing long sleeved, heavy pajamas. The pink color of the fabric taunted her with what it concealed. When was the last time that she actually bothered observing her body, after the accident? Was she ashamed of herself? Is that why it made her feel uncomfortable to think about looking in a mirror?
There was no reason to be ashamed of herself. It was not as if she had wanted to be hurt. And she was not damaged goods - everyone else said she was getting better daily!
Resolutely making a decision, Kagome pulled off the pajama bottoms and started unbuttoning the top. She would observe what she looked like and then she would write about it, in a positive fashion, in her journal. That would be good for her self-esteem, and it would give her something to do, since she wasn't able to sleep anyway.
But her resolution faded away into thin air, once she had actually opened the top of her pajama set. When she drew back the sides of the shirt, a soft, sinister glow met her eyes. Underneath the cross-shaped scar on her hip, there was a iridescent circle of light, gleaming at her from below the skin. She could barely see it. The colors were not very bright, and under her clothing, the shimmering orb would be swallowed completely.
It looked like the Shikon no Tama.
How could that be possible? It was the same spot in her flesh, where a centipede-demon had first ripped out the Jewel. But somehow, the Jewel had reinserted itself into her skin. Into her muscle. Perhaps into the very bones of her hip.
Would something like the Shikon no Tama show up on an X-ray? Surely, she had undergone X-rays at the hospital, after her accident. Yet no one else seemed to know where the Jewel had gone. None of the doctors ever inquired (to the best of her knowledge, which was admittedly quite awful) about the strange marble-like shape, embedded beneath her skin.
Guilt and confusion swamped her. Half of her wanted to find someone, tell someone. Perhaps she could wake Naraku, and inform him - even if it was the middle of the night. The other half of her mind wanted to forget about it entirely. Tell Naraku? No, way! He might think she sounded crazy! Besides, it was none of his business.
And if she felt upset by the idea of having the Shikon no Tama inside her flesh, once more, then all she would have to do to comfort herself would be... to button her pajama top, again. Because she probably would not recall it, on her own. Not really. Maybe a flash of suspicion, or an image of herself in the mirror with a glowing orb in her hip, but nothing that would detract from her day to day life.
Gasping slightly, panting for air, Kagome clenched and unclenched her fists. At long last, she made a decision. It was a cowardly one, perhaps. Slowly donning her pink pajamas once more, she poured herself a glass of water, and then purposefully returned to bed.
Sleep was a long time in coming.