Kikyo
"Proceed to stitching."
I numbly turn my head. All I can see is Kaede's back, cloaked in white, and the slight movement of her hands, working diligently around Kohaku. I can't see the boy himself.
My eyes travel down to my right arm, the sleeve rolled up almost to the shoulder. A blueish outline that would become a bruise is already forming where the IV lines were. The veins are large and swollen on the joint.
"Stitching complete. End of operation, five thirteen."
Just a little over two hours. I close my eyes, involuntarily pressing the back of my arm to the metal stretcher. At first, it was uncomfortable, but now the coldness is relieving. I acutely listen to Kaede discarding the tools on the tray next to her, then pushing it away from the operation table. I open my eyes again, staring at the grey ceiling. My mouth and throat feel dry.
Kaede appears in front of me. She had pulled down her mask, and her face is serious.
"How are you feeling?"
"I'm good." Slightly lifting up on the elbows, I nod towards Kohaku. "How is he?"
Kaede shifts to the side, allowing me to see the boy. He was lying face down, wrapped with blue and white sheets. The equipment next to him was quietly humming, and a steady green line ran up and down on the black monitor.
"His heartbeat and breathing are both stable. The blood pressure is a little low, but that's due to anesthesia."
"How long will he be unconscious?" The elbow exerts too much pressure on the vein, and I'm forced to lie back down. Kaede looks back at me, and her eyes are sympathetic.
"I'll plan to take him to the recovery room in three hours. That way the official time for the surgery will be five hours. He should wake up approximately thirty minutes after that."
I make an attempt to sit up, and Kaede carefully takes me by the shoulders.
"So you're buying me time?"
"I guess you can say it that way."
My head goes dizzy from lying down for so long, and it takes a couple of blinks to refocus my vision. I wordlessly look down at Kaede. She's also silent, not knowing what to say or even if there needs to be something to be said. I finally look away and slide off the stretcher.
"That cabinet, right?"
"Yes."
I roll it to the far end of the room where the white, spotless cabinets were. Finding the lever underneath, I quickly fold the stretcher in half, slightly bending down to support it's cumbersome weight. While I'm placing it away, Kaede is checking Kohaku again. Watching her from the corner of my eye, I can't help but feel nervous.
"The shard is definitely..."
"Don't worry." I guess I shouldn't question surgeons. I absently tug down the sleeve, unevenly jerking it down the arm.
"What did you tell the other doctors?"
"That the operation starts at a different time." Kaede shrugs. Her voice is nonchalant, but I can tell the concealed hesitation in her eye. "It's not like they'll come in here at any moment. Ninety nine percent chance that they're operating on someone else right now."
I slightly falter: I didn't notice how she noiselessly walked up to me and took me by the elbow.
"Kikyo, what should I tell the cops?" Kaede quietly asks. I shake my head, feeling the guilt rising to my cheeks.
"The truth. I'm sorry, Kaede, you'll be in trouble."
"I don't mind." When I look into her eyes, I understand that she means it. Kaede smiles, genuinely and affectionately. The monitors behind her beep as a reminder of the sleeping boy. Kaede lightly squeezes me by the elbow.
"Good luck, sister."
"Take care."
My fingers grasp - just slightly - the folds of her sleeve, but then let go. I turn around and walk out of the operational room.
The bathroom is not far from the operational room. Trying not to lean too close to the door, I weakly press on the handle. It goes fully down, and I tiredly open the heavy door. The lights automatically blink up. Sighing, I make my way towards the toilet: even though I don't want to go, I'm nearly certain that sensation is from the simultaneous numbness and adrenaline after the surgical procedure, and that my organism, in fact, has completely different needs.
After I'm done, I stagger over to the sink. The handle for hot water is screwed too tightly, and I don't have the energy to yank it. The cold water splashes onto my palms, and I apathetically begin to rub them together.
The best solution now was to head straight to the airport. I absently pull down a piece of paper to wipe my hands. Thinking about it made my head hurt.
I leave the bathroom and navigate my way towards the waiting hall. The morning steadily progressed: there were far more people sitting in the narrow, leather seats. I search with my eyes until I reach the silent, pale face.
Straight and motionless, Sango is sitting next to a wall. She is completely alone. I wordlessly walk over to her and lightly touch the top edge of the seat.
"Kohaku's doing well," I very quietly say. Sango does not answer, but slightly shifts her shoulders, indicating that she heard me. My heart squelches, but I know that's all I can say. I walk past her, not turning around, and the glass doors slide with an almost inaudible rattle.
The sky is still rich and dark. I wince, holding out my hand to block the strong wind. The cars are actively circling the parking lot, the headlights streaking out in wide, yellow tunnels.
"Kikyo?"
I glance over my shoulder, then completely turn around. Shimura is standing in front of me. My first instinct is to ask why he's waiting in the cold, but almost immediately I notice a cigarette between his fingers, and everything becomes clear.
"Yes, Shimura-sama?"
My arm twinges, and I suppress the desire to grab it. Shimura draws in and slowly breathes out. It looked as if he was trying to warm himself up.
"Where are you going?"
I shake my head. Because of the wind, I have to speak louder, and it dissonates with my words.
"There's nothing left for me to do."
Shimura silently observes me. His features become old, and the Lieutenant General sighs.
"I see." He takes another draw and looks at the sky.
"This has all become so ridiculous," he whispers it to no one in particular, but I hear him anyway. Tucking my hands into pockets, I bow.
"I'll be going, Shimura-sama. Good night."
"Good morning, Kikyo," Shimura tiredly corrects me, bringing the cigarette to his mouth. For a moment, his eyes take up the razor glint, but the smoke conceals it. I turn around and step down into the parking lot.
As I'm about to cross the road from the hospital grounds to the general sidewalk, I notice a car turning out of the hospital's driveway. I obediently step aside and wait for it to pass. The car turns almost immediately, too fast for me to see the driver. I wait a little bit more, checking if there are any more straight cars, then quickly cross the roadway.
The streets are quiet. The snow softly drops from the sky. I briskly walk down, sensing how my fingers freeze up in my pockets. It is very, very cold at five o'clock in the morning.
The engine gently rumbles in the distance. I glance over my shoulder and notice a car driving down the street. It's pace is just barely under the rather small speed limit. It was the same car that I let through at the hospital.
I turn back around, feeling unsettled. As I continue walking, my eyes involuntarily flicker upwards at the traffic mirrors screwed onto the lamp posts. A bland, grey car with a seemingly old appearance. My stomach tenses slightly: the windows were tinted. I hold back a bitter sigh. Now that I knew everything, Shimura must've thought it useless to hide his agents. My fingers slightly twinge - or he wanted to prevent me from going anywhere which is why he blankly displayed his agent for notice.
For a moment, I have the urge to whirl around, walk up, and simply tap on the car's windows, but I hold back; that would be rash. If I stop at home right now, the car will be parked until I walk out.
I abruptly turn around and cross the street without looking around; the agent won't run me over. I quickly navigate through the streets, carefully watching out of the corner of my eye for the car to make sure he's following me. In a short notice, I walk out into a deserted playground, standing right in front of seven or eight residential buildings. The cars were tightly and haphazardly parked around it. A cat sat in front of one of the doors, leisurely washing itself with its tongue. On straight legs, I numbly walk to the sixth building and stop in front of the large doors. My hand reaches for the com, but hesitates, and drops.
Kanna is sleeping. If I ring the com, it'll wake up the entire apartment. I absently take out my phone and press the buttons. The numbers come out naturally, without second thought. Knowing him, he would keep his mobile close by, like on a night table, in case he was called by his own people. Feeling empty, I raise the phone to my ear.
The dial vibrates a second longer, and then is cut by a hoarse and sleepy voice.
"Yes?"
My heart catches in my throat in a combination of pain and laughter. I actually managed to walk in on him sleeping...
"If you were smart enough, you would check the number before answering. Then you would know who's calling."
There was a short silence. Then, I hear a heavy sigh and loud ruffling, as if he's getting out of bed. The receiver faintly captures how he staggers across the hallway and into the small porch. The front doors click open, and my stomach slowly falls down. Even though I knew I had no choice, I did not want to see Naraku. He used Kohaku. My skin twinges under my shirt. Not to mention... without thinking, I place my hand right above the right collarbone. At the shipyard, he said that he shot me.
I nearly forgot about these words because of Kohaku; now, however, when I was at his doorstep and had no idea just what he might do as a reaction to my visit, all the repulsion that I implied in my words "stay away" comes back.
My fingers curl around the door's handle and mechanically pull it open. If I could let go of my revenge towards the Shikon project, I cannot let go of my resentment towards Naraku's actions.
My footsteps resonate with a hollow echo rising all the way to the seventh floor. It's dark, and I have to find my way holding tightly to the rails. I don't bother counting - the seventh floor was the last.
Stepping out into the flight, I'm worn out. Tired, my eyes travel to the rightmost door. Slightly wiping my mouth, I walk up to it, and my hand hesitantly pushes down on the handle. It easily gives in, and I quietly step inside.
No one greets me on the porch, and I'm silently grateful. Slipping off my shoes, I crane my neck and see a dim light tiptoeing from the kitchen and the bathroom. Otherwise, the entire apartment was dark: Kanna was sleeping. Hanging my coat next to his, I notice the leather and winter smell trembling in the air. He must have been going out in the middle of the night.
I carefully step over into the hallway and push the kitchen door. It quietly creaks over. The window is slightly open, filling the room with an undeniable chill. The stove is cold and empty. Shivering and hugging myself by the elbows, I walk over to the window and glimpse out. The car was parked next to the building.
"Kikyo?" I hear quietly behind me.
I whirl around and see Naraku, noiselessly closing the door behind him. He was wearing a simple checkered, soft shirt and jeans, all obviously put on in a hurry. His hair was tied as well.
"What happened?"
I wrap my elbows with my hands and stare unblinkingly into his eyes.
"They extracted the shard from Kohaku," I emotionlessly state. Faintly, a pulse shuffles in my hand, but that's most likely the details of my imagination. Naraku's eyebrow very slightly twitches upwards, and his face becomes unreadable. He smirks, but it's pretty hollow.
"I didn't think you'd allow that to happen so soon."
Cold anger wavers in my throat, and I dig my fingers into the bones of my elbows. I want to accuse him but can't find the correct words. Even if I throw him a question, I already know all the answers.
Do you not care about the boy that much? He was doomed from the start.
You set everything up. If you want to blame someone, blame Kugutsu.
I silently turn around and walk up to the window. Seven floors down, the car remains parked, glaringly obvious and humiliating. Naraku is motionless, and I feel his stare carefully observing me.
"I ran into Shimura," I dispassionately comment.
"I imagine it was painful." He does not sound sympathetic. I ignore his remark.
"He knew about our relationship. He had agents monitoring us." I glance over my shoulder. "Were you aware of that?"
Naraku shrugs. "No, but I'm not surprised."
I raise an eyebrow. "You're not concerned?"
The tips of his lips faintly lift upwards. With that ghost of a smile, Naraku shakes his head. I dryly smirk and turn back to the window. Agitation stirs inside my chest. I'm wordless as Naraku steps up next to me. He pushes back the window frame and slightly leans forward, slouching and elbows resting on the plastic wedge.
"Were you followed?"
I don't answer. His eyes trail downwards, examining the parking lot for any oddities. Naraku quietly chuckles without opening his mouth.
"That grey one?"
"I have somewhere I need to go," I blankly state, keeping my eyes straight in front of me. "I don't want them to know."
"So you want to wait over here." Without looking at me, Naraku sarcastically raises his eyebrow. "And make them think that we're spending time together."
Sometimes he had the decency to phrase our relationship less bluntly than usual; however, today's euphemism seemed off for some reason. I guess because right now we were spending time together. Regardless of my wish to do so.
I sigh, feeling down and alone, and hug myself closer by the elbows. The air from the window is too cold.
"More or less. After all, they don't know that I broke it off with you."
We're standing close enough for elbows to slightly touch, the soft material of his shirt gently rubbing against my own stiff one. Naraku's features become more human, and he inaudibly laughs. It's more of a long sigh than anything.
"Whatever you say."
"Oh? For real?" I step away from the window and sit down at the table. Placing my bag on my lap, I zip it open. The flashy cover of the crosswords magazine winks back at me. With a knot in my chest, I flip a couple of pages; the knot tightens when I see several blanks filled out in a child's handwriting. Naraku steps away from the window as well. I lift my eyes above the magazine and silently watch him sit down across me. He places an elbow on the table and leans his head on his fist.
"For real."
I lower my gaze on the paper. Another word for fricassee. What even is fricassee...
I raise my eyes.
"Liar."
"Again, whatever you say."
That marked the end of the conversation. I continued flipping through the magazine while Naraku carefully watched me. I am unsettled, but, on the other hand, it is better than talking. Even though my heart was painfully pounding, I had nothing to say to him. Naraku easily kept the silence. I knew what he was thinking: even if I was to leave, I would eventually come back, not able to face the overbearing and perpetually hungry loneliness. And I am attached to him, more than I would've liked. I flip another page.
Half an hour invisibly passes by. By that time, I'm filling out the puzzles while Naraku is making tea. The silence hangs on.
Naraku walks up to the window, and I follow him with my eyes. I hear him slightly moving the frame.
"The car's gone."
The uncomfortable sensation of waiting hitches to my throat. Naraku glimpses over his shoulder.
"Will you go now or will you stay for tea?"
I markedly slap the magazine shut and shove it into my bag.
"Now."
I stand up and, in the process, accidentally push back the chair way too loudly. Naraku, reclining against the window frame, arms crossed on his chest, grimaces in blatant displeasure.
"Can't you do it quieter? Kanna is sleeping."
"I'm sorry," I genuinely apologize. Naraku sighs, letting me know that he understands and stands up from the frame. He silently follows me to the tiny front porch. At the door, I turn around, but he quickly reaches past my shoulder and pushes down a switch. The light blindingly flares up, cascading across the room.
Naraku is silently looking down at me. The light falls directly on his face, but it is smudged by the shadows of the shelves, jackets and coats, the small cupboard with a mirror, umbrellas, hats and scarves. I feel as if standing on the railroad, but the trains on both my sides are going away from me. The life I had before and the life I could've had if I didn't save Kohaku.
Even though his features are calm, his eyes are burning. He wordlessly takes me by the head and gently, but firmly pulls me to his chest. I don't oppose the gesture, but my arms hang limply on the sides. He is motionless as well, the only warmth in the embrace being the soft shirt that my nose is buried into.
My gaze trails down against the wall, under the thick woolen coats to the very floor. Next to the lacquered black shoes are small, pink boots. The sadness both drowns and frustrates me.
"I won't forgive you for Kohaku."
For a moment, his fingers tighten on my head, then gradually relax. I take the hint and silently step away. Naraku tucks his hands into pockets and sarcastically grins.
"As I said. Do whatever you wish."
"If you say so." I forcedly shrug and turn away. Naraku opens the door and I, not looking at him, walk through. The door softly closes behind me.
I clench my fists, holding myself together. Everything felt... so unresolved. Half of my mind was even convinced that I'll come back. I lift my head and stare at the dirty, dark ceiling. I don't remember how much my heart hurt when I parted ways with Inuyasha. My lips sadly turn upwards. I was the one who initiated it as well.
However, I could not not feel a certain lightness. Kohaku was saved.
My feet slowly start moving on my own, and the steps echo in a trembling, quiet rhythm.
I guess if I grew exceptionally lonely, I could force the shard in my hand to talk. It was alive, after all.
A/N: ... and that's the end! HOOORAYYY, WE DID IT FOLKS! AFTER WHAT, Five OR SO MONTHS?! LITTLE KOHAKU'S SAVED AND KIKYO PULLED A BIG REVERSE UNO CARD IN EVERYONE'S FACES! (y'all have no idea how long I wanted her to do this XD)...
There is an epilogue chapter that I'll post tomorrow but I won't comment on it or anything because it's super-duper short and kind of wraps everything up from a different perspective (kudos to those who guess who :)), but it's still super-duper short so...
Thank you, thank you, thank you all for reading my story. The knowledge that someone is reading my story, the fact that someone is interested - that kept me writing, regardless of whether there were reviews or not. When a story is read, it deserves to be continued. That's why thank you so much, folks, for following with me on this journey which I hope was just as exciting for you as it was for me.
Even though I sort of worked in a review-vacuum, I'd still love to hear your thoughts, especially now when the story is over. Speaking of over, you may have noticed that storylines are, as it stands, "in the air": Naraku and Kikyo one-sidedly broke up, there's an entire new shard conflict going up (if you got what it is, hurray, if not, ask me in the comments :)) HOWEVER Kohaku was saved. Which, for me, is the most correct and logical ending to this story. Nonetheless, I do see plenty of potential for a continuation (separate fic, ofc) and, not going to lie, it's a very tempting and intriguing idea. We can start at a simple fact of where the heck is Kikyo going... I'll judge by the reviews whether or not a continuation is necessary. Other than that, feel free to leave your reactions in the comments, even if it means you venting out how you hated it XDDDD
Thank you once more. Until another story, folks!