The air was cold and fresh, nipping at Moth's nose and tearing through her soul. The world was so bitterly cold, and though it was only autumn her heart felt like winter, eternally frozen by the constant battering that she had had to endure. So many years of pain and suffering with no respite in sight. Every friend who had supported her, dead or beyond reach. Every man who she could have loved, murdered or in danger of being murdered by Spider. She had thought she could escape him, she honestly had. Moth had been sure that if she ran hard enough, if she ran far enough, he would disappear and her world would be the way it had been before, never to change.
Sesshomaru would still be unkind and strong. His Rin would be by his side, and their hearts would never have been tainted. Miroku and Sango would be bickering, as always, but she would be blushing and he would be smiling that lazy, perverted grin that had made him irreplaceable to Sango. Shippo would have stayed safe, would have grown up under her care and become a fox demon of prestige, a man both kind and just. He would be safe, he would be happy, he would be alive. She didn't think he actually was. The look in his eyes when he had watched her go, so full of regret that it tore her to pieces, had been a farewell. Jinenji would still be with his village, always brave, and he would never die. Koga would be smiling, growling, trying to convince her to become his mate with the light hearted ease of someone who has forever to persuade his beau.
And Inuyasha...
Inuyasha, her beloved, would be beside her. Her sweet one, her gruff one, the man who she had loved first and loved best. He had always brought out the best in her, and she knew that. He had protected her, adored her, and though she did not come foremost in his heart she came rather close to doing so, and Moth appreciated that. Even though Inuyasha had desperately desired to protect his Clay Pot, she knew it was more out of duty than anything else. He had destroyed her accidentally, had weakened her and brought about her demise. He had owed it to her, to always keep strong. Moth knew Kagome could have accepted that, and perhaps when the Clay Pot had made her peace she and Inuyasha would have been happy. Somehow, some way, they would have made things work, and the sun would shine, and the birds would sing, and they'd have two little ones, a boy and a girl, who they would take on picnics, and-
Oh, how it hurt. The pain of what could have been wrenched Moth's heart in two, and as the pieces bled she wept, her eyes leaking tears to sting the cheeks and deepen the chill. Oh, nothing was worth living anymore. Everything always fell to pieces, and none of it had ever been good enough. Who was she kidding? Half of Inuyasha would never have been good enough. Not even Kagome would have settled for halvesies. It would have been pain either way, pain and suffering, just like it always was. Life was like a box of cherry liquor chocolates, Moth thought. It tasted delicious going down, but the aftertaste and the mind numbing dizziness made you wonder if it was even worth it. If you examined the taste closely, in fact, even the first time down was too sweet, too strong. The chocolate, you realized, had never been worth eating in the first place. The whole thing had been a blasted waste of time, and wasn't Moth a fool for having done it in the first place.
She walked down the winding path, not even looking up. Moth knew which way she was going. How could she have not? It was a path well trodden from so many directions, and she could feel It drawing her in, holding her close, reminding her of the past. She ached at the idea of returning There, but knew she must. There was no choice to the matter, there had never been one. The whole journey had just been a prelude to this, a way of clearing her mind of all sweetness and goodness. She now stood naked, soulless and hateful, bitterer than she had been during those years in Spider's cellar. Moth no longer believed in happiness or virtue. She would call them lies, toss them aside, and walk forward in fear and disgusting despair.
Eventually, Moth made her way into the village. She was greeted with rudeness until she spoke of Kaede, and then all went silent. "Miss," someone said finally, their eyes growing wide with fear, "Kaede died many many years ago. She is but stuff of the history books now." And then it was as though they knew who she was and she was driven out with pitchforks. Moth knew she could not have expected anything different, but it still hurt. It wasn't her fault that she was the one he wanted. She didn't want him to love her, didn't wish him to. He did, that's all. She couldn't help that.
Moth wandered through the forest, sobbing convulsively from time to time as she traveled along. When the Goshinboku loomed into sight, she had to force her heavy feet to step forward, push herself to continue moving. She could not stop, or all courage would be lost. Itty bitty steps, the steps of a coward, brought Moth forward, and she rested her head against the bark of the tree, fancying that she could almost smell Inuyasha's scent, clinging to the place where he should have rested, the place where he should have stayed for all eternity. Perhaps, if she hadn't pulled out the arrow, things would have been different. Maybe she would have died that night, and that centipede woman would have ruled the land with an iron fist. Anything is possible.
Moth gently stroked the bark, feeling the notch in the wood where his claw had raked its surface. She placed her fingers over the cut, splaying them, imagining that he would have had his hand just so, claws digging deeply and drawing out the elixir of the Goshinboku's life. Moth hissed as she pressed her fingernail into the surface, but frenzied digging unearthed that precious life energy once more. She licked her fingers, tasting the bitterness of bark mixed in with the sweetness of sap, and cried a little bit more, feeling as though she should shed them, just for the sake of his memory.
Moth was a wretched creature, the lowest of the low, and she knew it well. There was no escape to the madness, no end in sight, and Moth knew it would never end, could never end. After death, if such an end lay in wait for her, devils would prod and sear her flesh until she sobbed out a desperate plea for love, for support, for ANYONE. Then He would come, somehow, into the depths of hell and bring her out to a hell even more desolate for it's mortal comforts. He would bring her to the hell that was her life as His willing slave, and the toxins would seep back into her willing flesh. Once more, she would be addicted, until one day Moth would wake up and look in the mirror, seeing a face that belonged to someone else. She would cry, and scream, but eventually she would realize that this was all real, and there would never be any escape. Spider had planned it all so well, Moth realized in horror. He had won through losing, and now there was only one place to go, one home to turn to. Oh God, let it work. Let her be safe, let them be there. Let them want her back. Please...
Pulling away from the tree, she started to run, feeling a stitch take up residence in her side almost instantly. Moth was panting soon, but she didn't stop, she couldn't stop, until she'd made it to the well and tried to go through. She scrambled towards it and jumped in, praying to the Gods that she would be allowed this one final boon, this one last chance to escape that which haunted her so thoroughly. Oh god, let it be over. Let it be done, for good. Cut off, like her escape routes. Please, she prayed, let it be the end to all madness.
When the well began to glow a strange shade of blue Moth sobbed out her relief and shock, feeling the familiar sensation of the old well engulf her once more, taking her to the place that had not been home for so long. But... how? She felt something strange glowing deep inside her fingernail and remembered with a gasp what she had done, that day she had been captured. How Spider had come for her, after the jewel, and all she could think to do was chip off a tiny piece and bury it into the skin underneath her fingernail painfully deep. That shard, so long forgotten, was now to be Moth's savior, and she blessed it a thousand fold, shutting her eyes to the darker things in the void.
When she reached the other side, the world seemed different. The humid scent of warm wood permeated her senses, and Moth scrambled out of the well. She saw in front of her a bike, and in the distance there was a house. She heard a voice, little Souta's, calling out. "Kagome, come see!" She wondered why he was talking so oddly and opened her mouth to respond, but someone else spoke words in her own voice. Moth crept off behind a tree and watched in an awed stupor as her old self followed Souta to the well. With a pang, Moth remembered. This was it, the moment when she had first been caught by the centipede lady. This was the beginning of everything, all of the horror and pain. And she could stop it, she could stop it right this instant. Nothing would have happened, none of it. She would be a normal highschool girl.
Awed by the hope this thought offered her, she took a step forward to halt her other self before it was too late.