Living with the Supernatural

"…what do you think, Kagome-sama?"

Kagome pulled out from her daze and found herself staring at Amari, who was throwing her a questioning smile. She remembered the younger miko had been talking about vacation trips, about places in her bucket list. What exactly was the question posed to her though?

It felt like she had been sleeping with her eyes open, while assembling prayer beads together with her partner. There had been nothing but a static roar playing at the back of her mind while her fingers moved in auto-pilot.

I need to stop this, Kagome mentally scolded herself, looking at the rosary in her hand, mismatched coloured beads strung together. Get a grip on yourself. She ducked her head and clapped her hands together in apology.

"Amari-chan, would you mind repeating yourself? Ah, I've been really feeling under the weather lately."

Amari giggled. "You know, it's not just today. I've noticed you've been kinda out of it for these past few months."

Kagome's eyes widened as she leaned forward. "What? For the past few months? That's stretching it a little."

"Haven't you looked at the mirror lately? You look like a raccoon." Then Amari changed her tone and quickly added, "But a cute raccoon!"

"There's nothing admirable about looking like a raccoon!" a booming voice suddenly snapped from behind.

Both women jolted in response at the abrupt appearance of the head priest into the room. Amari looked especially red in the face, peering discreetly as he loomed behind Kagome.

"I'll—I'll go get more beads from the storeroom!" Amari blurted, dashing out. Kagome muttered under her breath before turning to acknowledge the priest.

Standing ramrod-straight at more than six foot, Jyohaku looked more like a seasoned warlord than a shrine head. His hands clasped behind his strong back, his chest puffed out. As usual his face was marred with displeasure, and he like everyone else knew, was always displeased.

The stiff layers of jōe and his kammuri hat that he had worn during the new year had disappeared now that the season was over, replaced by softer, well-worn robes. Kagome gave him a perfunctory bow before returning to her seat. He folded his arms tightly in response.

"Do you know why you're always tired nowadays?" he asked testily.

Great, Kagome thought. So he had been eavesdropping on her conversation with Amari. Well, one lengthy lecture coming right up.

"It's just some lack of sleep," she replied casually. She patted her shoulder with a fist. "Maybe a trip to an onsen sounds like a good vacation! Ah, if only I was granted with enough leave days!"

Suddenly Jyohaku's hand slammed onto the table, the prayer beads rattling before they bounced from the table edge. Kagome yelped as she tried to catch them, whilst shooting a glare at him.

She remembered her first day as his apprentice. Most priests she met wore a gentle, reassuring demeanour, but not the new head of Yukino-jingu. The man was like a hawk. He moved with an air of intimidation, with a presence so overbearing that you knew he was in the same room without looking. Working closely with him for the last three years however, not only was Kagome the only apprentice to persevere the longest through his harsh discipline, she discovered his tough appearance was only a front.

Jyohaku circled her like the hawk he was. "Lack of sleep? Are you fooling me? Let me tell you why you're tired—it's because of that ghost you sired." The word "ghost" seemed to taste like bile in his mouth, spewing out. "I'm still in utter disbelief, to this very day, that you brought back that bloody spirit into your house. And you're still keeping mum over your actions. Do you know what happens when you mess with these supernatural beings?"

"Amari-chan's taking a super long time, isn't she? Jyohaku-sama, instead of warbling at your spot, why don't you grab a chair and help me with the rosaries?"

"The sheer insolence! Tell me again why do I put up with you?"

"Jyohaku-sama, please."

"Sometimes I don't know what is in that little head of yours," Jyohaku continued to nag, picking the beads off the floor nevertheless. He sat down and his fingers began stringing the beads together in quick, deft motions. "By now you must already have felt the consequences. These things feed and thrive on your life force, and once they're attached to you, they'll never let go."

Attached to me? Kagome smirked, choosing a black bead. That guy only knows how to watch television. That, plus he's really adept at housework. Besides Sesshoumaru's not a spirit anymore. He's turned into a real person.

With the thought in mind, she curbed her smile at Jyohaku even as he fixed her with a stare.

Kagome took the fruit knife and in one swift move, swiped its blade against her index finger. A cut appeared and a drop of blood slowly took form. It trickled into a bowl of murky water that was infused with bone powder, dirt, sandalwood and lime, a dash of frankincense among other things.

She carried the bowl carefully to the kitchen exit and called out to Sesshoumaru, who was transfixed with an episode of Ripley's Believe It or Not.

"Sesshoumaru! You've been watching the telly when I woke up this morning, and you're still at it. Don't you feel hungry?"

He did not budge from his spot. Kagome felt her blood steadily rise to her face. So the Loch Ness monster is apparently more interesting, eh?

"Sesshoumaru, get your ass here for dinner right now!"

They entered a dimly-lit room. At the corner stood a red praying altar. A pair of candles in glasses lit from each side. Kagome placed the bowl between the candles, before proceeding to burn some joss-sticks. She waved them about, dispelling the first wisps of smoke before placing them in a holder behind a small urn. Her hands clasped in prayer, she then chanted a mantra, her lips whispering unintelligible words.

She did this ritual each time she needed to feed him, and she would do so around two times each week. Even though he had a body now, he was still neither human nor spirit, and did not require actual food for his sustenance. Kagome took a few steps back, giving Sesshoumaru some space.

"Bon appétit," she said.

Sesshoumaru touched the bowl with both hands.

"… Bon appétit," he repeated after her, enunciating each foreign syllable carefully as they rolled off his tongue.

Kagome nodded. "Yes, it's like when we say "itadakimasu." But in French."

"French?"

"It's another language. Like English or Chinese. Why don't you start drinking now, Sesshoumaru?" Kagome urged, and he could detect a hint of exasperation in her voice.

"I know what it means. I interpret words through their intent, and not from the way they are shaped."

Sesshoumaru tipped the bowl to his mouth. The shadows from the candlelight waved gently on the walls in the semi-dark room. Kagome tapped her foot, then started to pace around, her hands clasped behind her back.

"So Sesshoumaru," she started, but not before clearing her voice to cough, "I actually have some questions I've been meaning to ask and…"

This is it, she thought. This is where I dig in him for answers. I need to know the truth.

"I want to know what happened to my friends back in the feudal era. More specifically, to your half-brother Inuyasha…"

She heard a sound akin to someone choking on his food. When Kagome looked up, she saw a pair of bright, dancing eyes, its colour almost mimicking the candlelight.

"Inuyasha? I have not heard of that name in a..." Sesshoumaru's voice trailed off and he shook his head slowly. "In a supremely long time."

"Well, what do you remember?" She looked into his face. "The last time you saw him—what was he doing?"

"No," he said.

"No?"

"No, I cannot tell you."

A wave of disbelief fell over her. "What? Why ?"

"Because this Sesshoumaru is unable to remember."

There was something about the casual air in his tone, his indifferent attitude towards the whole subject. It probably meant nothing to him, some old, obscure memory at the back of his mind. But it was everything to Kagome. This was the closest she could get in receiving closure about her inconclusive past. The past that shut its door cruelly to her face. To abandon everything without ever seeing her comrades ever again, without hearing their voices, without knowing what happened to them…

Did they lead happy, meaningful lives? Did they still remember her onwards? Did Inuyasha—

Something thick rose in her throat and when Kagome spoke again, her voice was wavering and the pits of her stomach felt sick.

"That's enough," she said, grabbing the bowl away. He stared at her in silent puzzlement.

"Has my answer irked you?" he asked as she was leaving the room. "Yes, it has. I can sense it."

"Doesn't take a genius to guess that."

Kagome pulled the sliding door until it covered half her face.

"You're not to leave this room until you decide to tell me everything. Understand? And no more meals for you."

The door shut with a loud thud. Perhaps it could be louder if she intended. Sesshoumaru gazed around the dim candle-lit room. Like the whole house it had been nothing but a rat's nest, holding a large bookshelf, some old furniture and many dusty boxes—things Kagome had referred to as junk. Alas she had forbid him to dispose of them. They belonged to the previous owner of the house, she said, an old miko who no longer lived in this world. The books had been interesting, some collection of classic poems and literary fiction, although he did not bother with the religious texts. He had placed Kagome's cookbooks in the same shelf too, the ones she had given him.

The short curtains floated softly as a chilly draught filtered in. It was no longer snowing in Tokyo but the coldness would still creep and seep in through his feet and into the bones of his spine. Sesshoumaru sat down by a wall and contemplated what she had said. About needing to tell her "everything."

"I cannot tell you," he repeated his words to no one in particular, his voice in a hollow echo. "Not when everything feels like a frozen block of ice."

Kagome stood before the bathroom mirror. She washed her face, wincing from the cold water.

God, she thought, squeezing her cheeks. I really need to calm myself down. It's not like it's his fault he doesn't remember. But for how long?

And what if he doesn't ever remember? What's the point of everything then?

She patted her face dry with a towel. Her dark eyes peered back on her reflection in the mirror.

"I absolutely do not look like a raccoon."

A few minutes later, the door slid open softly. Kagome's head peeked in, her disconsolate face illuminated by the red hue from the candlelight. She saw Sesshoumaru crouching at the corner of the room and instantly felt horrible of herself.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean to be impatient. It's just that I got overly excited. Especially when I saw you again at that bridge. I think maybe, just maybe, you've been a ghost for a long time."

Sesshoumaru said nothing.

"I won't ask you again until you're ready. I promise."

"Wait," he spoke again. Swiftly she opened the door wider, the candle flames shining in her eyes.

Sesshoumaru came forward. He peered at her from behind the door, his eyes strangely round and pleading, and for a quick moment Kagome was suddenly reminded of how he used to be, after all, a dog demon.

"I want my bowl back."

Peeved, she shut the door in his face.

Wait for the next chapter!

[A/N: Hola, welcome to the end of the 2nd chapter! Thanks for making your time to read! Just a short commentary on this fic. I live in Southeast Asia where belief in the supernatural is very strong, even in these modern times. Siring spirits for one's gain, whether for wealth or getting extra help in scoring that one chick, although a hushed taboo, is still commonplace. It's considered black magic, and although I wouldn't push it so much as to say Kagome's practising it, even though she is on a subtle level, it somewhat sets the background for this story.

Kagome is kinda angsty here. Although she hasn't explained how and why yet—we're aware one of the reasons she has Sesshoumaru with her is so she can get answers. So he pretty much fails in his purpose here. LOL

Sesshoumaru is decidedly air-headed and mellow at the start of the story. As Kagome mentioned, he's probably been a ghost for a long time and needs some time adapting, but how did our fearsome, invincible demon lord become a ghost in the first place? I guess you just gotta stick to the story. Huahuahua…]