I don't own InuYasha characters, although this story is mine. InuYasha series and le characters is Rumiko Takahashis.
This place was incredibly depressing. The windows couldn't have been cleaned for what seemed like ages and the curtains-! The very look on them indicated that they had once been white with yellow flowers, but now they were more… grey-looking. Like a pair of curtains that were supposed to resemble granite.
Kagome shuddered and wrapped her arms around her small frame. How she had ended up in this disgusting, depressing, degraded room – if it was, it could as well be a toolshed – she didn't know. Where she was, she didn't care to know. Not now at least. What she did want to know however was why she was here, 'cause she was onehundred-fiftytwo point fifty five precent sure she hadn't sleepwalked here. Or maybe she had? But shouldn't her mother had told her at least once in her lifetime then, if Kagome had tendencies for sleepwalking?
In one corner sat a filthy doll. A filthy rug of a teddy bear to be precise. That had lost one of is button-eyes. Who was currently staring at her with the same dejected feeling Kagome herself had in the pit of her stomach.
At least, she thought and looked down in her lap, tears starting to gather in her eye corners, I've got my eyes left. For now.
Thinking back to what she could remember, she knew she had been counting. That seemed like a pretty pointless thing to do now – who counts to ten in hope of not attacking some inhumane, superhuman thing that were currently assaulting your kitchen? She also remembered reaching number ten, but then a soaring pain in her forehead had stopped her from even trying to stop those things.
In her little filthy room she could hear the pitter-patter of rain outside somewhere. Her mom had probably been home for a few hours if you could tell from the slowly increasing light from outside. She had probably not even noticed the kitchen's current state or that her daughter was gone – Kagome could bet that her mom had walked straight to bed before collapsing.
When tears formed in her eyes this time it was out of anger. Anger at her mom, anger at the kitchen-assaulters, but most of all – she was angry at herself for ever letting that stupid half-dog, half-human thing into her house.
At least the someone – if the feeling in her gut had right – who had taken her here had been kind enough to leave her a mattress to sit on. Filthy as everything else, but you took what you could find, right? Even if it looked as if something had crawled and clawed on it before it laid down to die at it. Functional, at least, if not tidy.
A picture on the well caught her attention for a moment and she rose slowly, limping lightly as she walked towards it, before squinting her eyes.
It was an old photo, from the looks of it. Dust and spider web clouded the picture, so after a little thought she took her sleeve and wiped carefully at the glass. Forms started to appear and she squinted once more.
It was three persons, it seemed like; two children and one male adult. The man was clad in an old overcoat with frills, his light hair knotted in a ponytail high up on his head. Dark streaks on his cheeks pointed toward a stiff set mouth. The eyes were piercing, even in the old picture; if you didn't know better the man could have been alive.
Following his left arm, where it lay on the tallest child's shoulder, she frowned. The same long and light-colored hair, but it was let loose. An elfin ear pointed out of the smooth hair, identical – but more smother – streaks laid on his cheekbones. The same stiff, if not stiffer, mouth as the adult and the same piercing eyes.
She blinked once, twice, before she followed the child's facial lines carefully. She knew this boy, but that simply wasn't possible; this photo must be at least a hundred years old! Maybe she was overthinking this; maybe the boy only resembled someone she knew.
The smaller boy on the picture however, made her mind go blank. Larger, more telling eyes, unruly light hair hiding most of his face. No streaks was on his face, but instead he had two puppy ears on top of his head. A gruff look on his face completed the picture.
It isn't possible, she thought sluggishly. It simply isn't possible!
Right then a door opened into her room. The creak from it was enough to make her jump and twirl around.
"What are you?" she asked InuYasha.
Yay. Or something. Feel like crap like now. Very well, enjoy.
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