Wolf
Part Fourteen, "Deja vu"
by Vega
~~~
Seven months later
~~~
I stood still, watching the young people go in and out of the fenced-off courtyard, dark hair flying in all directions, green skirts caught in the wind, smiles plastered on faces. The colours were tinted slightly violet, as I was peering through delicate purple shades so as to hide my vibrant blue eyes from the sea of dark ones around me.
How happy the people on the other side of the street seemed. Why wouldn't they be? School just let out for the weekend.
I flexed the fingers of my right hand briefly, feeling the new skin there ache dully in protest. In time it would cease to hurt when I moved, the doctors had said. In time, the surgically grafted skin would become more pliant, ease into the shape of my eviscerated appendage, mould itself around the withered tissue and grow slightly to make up for the pieces that were missing.
It felt damn good to just be out of those bandages. I kept my sleeves long at all times now, to hide the scars, the cobwebby looking crisscrossing veins and stitches that kept my new skin in place. It scared people when they looked at it. Truth be told, it scared me too.
Ah, what a miracle modern science is.
And I felt damn lucky to have lived long enough to take advantage of it.
The breeze shifted directions and my musings would have continued along the same vein, had I not spotted my quarry. She was smiling too, strolling out of the courtyard and onto the sidewalk, one hand wrapped around the shoulder strap of her knapsack. She was surrounded by other girls in the same uniform, the same age.
I shoved my marred right hand into my pants pocket, pulling my sleeve low to hide the markings.
Crossing the street quickly to keep up with her, I followed at a small distance as her and her group of friends walked down the street. Yes - this was her. I remembered the school uniform, had spent months trying to track down which school it was from, and then days watching the outside of said school.
And here she was.
We walked for maybe twenty minutes before her friends parted ways, and I had this girl to myself. As she turned into a park to take a short cut, I glanced around to make sure no one was following ME, and said, in a loud enough voice for her to hear me:
"Miko-sama."
The girl froze on the spot and turned to look behind her, finding me, with wary disbelief in her eyes. Beautiful blue-grey eyes, I mused. No wonder that Hanyou falls for her. Her hair was long and dark, her skin radiant and fresh. She was lovely in every sense of the word.
And this was my great-great-great-great-great-great-grandmother.
I wondered if I had inherited any physical traits from her at all, or if time and other people's blood had diluted my genetics enough to posses little more than the brilliant shimmer of a Youkai's eyes, and a Shikon Shard.
It felt almost surreal to be looking at her and knowing that 500 years ago she... we... I shook my head slightly to clear it of these thoughts. No, if I didn't hurry up and explain myself, I''d probably get a purifying arrow right through the heart.
"Miko-sama," I said again, this time more quietly. She took a few steps forward, towards me, understandably hesitant.
"Who are you?" she asked, her eyes narrowed, her head cocked to the side.
I smiled, pleased to be able to understand her without the aid of any supernatural objects. My months in this country's various hospitals had not been spent in vain. "My name is Aslin," I said softly.
"Have we met before?"
I looked down at my feet, amused. "Do I seem familiar to you? I should, Miko-sama. I am the culmination of your love."
"My... love?"
I sighed and looked up at the trees to our left, allowing myself to be momentarily distracted by the meditative whisper of the rustling leaves and the faint twittering of the birds. "Five hundred years ago," I began, and I heard her footsteps get closer, "Five hundred years ago you are friends with a Hanyou. His name is Inu Yasha."
She gasped and came around too look me in the eye. "How do you know about that?!"
I smiled a third time, pressing forward despite her question. "You are also friends with a Houshin named Miroku, a Taiyjia named Sango, and a Kitsune Youkai named Shippou."
She froze and just stared at me, her eyes and mouth wide with shock.
I reached into my coat pocket and produced a shimmering magenta shard of crystal and held it up for her to see, pinched precariously between my thumb and forefinger.
"Shikon Shard!" she gasped. I nodded, and pushed it into her hands. She took it with wonder on her face, then looked back up at mine. "Who ARE you?"
"As I said, my name is Aslin, and, somewhere deep inside of me, I am part Youkai."
"Hanyou?!"
"Not quite," I shook my head, "not half-Youkai. Less than that. My great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather was an Inu-Hanyou. He mated with a Miko, and their son married the daughter of a great warrior woman, and a man tainted with Youkai blood curse. Their daughter mated with a full-blooded Kitsune-Youkai, and they had a girl child as well. Do you follow me?"
Kagome shook her head... then nodded slowly. She was chewing slightly on her bottom lip.
"That made my great-great-great-grandmother a Hanyou, with more Youkai blood than Ningen. Slowly, through the generations, the Youkai blood thinned, until me. I am more Ningen than Youkai."
"Your eyes shimmer like a Youkai's," she said slowly, choked up.
"Hai, they do."
She clutched the Shikon Shard against her breast, and I could see the faint outline of the half-complete Shikon No Tama pressing back through the fabric of her shirt. "Why are you telling me this?"
"That Shikon Shard has been passed down from generation to generation, from the body of mother to daughter. It was placed inside the womb of the warrior woman who is my ancestor to negate the curse that the father carried and would have been passed onto the child. Every girl-child born tho this line inherits the Shikon Shard, and passes it on to her daughter. But, Kagome Higurashi," he eyes widened again and I paused for a small chuckle, "Yes, I know your name. But... it is time that the Shikon Shard went back to where it was supposed to go."
"To me?" Kagome's hands spasmed over the crystal shard, and I knew that she was afraid I would take it away from her.
"No," I said softly, turning and walking away a few steps. Then I stopped and look back over my shoulder. "To my great-great-great-great-great-great-grandmother. Keep it safe, Miko-sama, and give it to Sango-sama when you get back."
Then I began walking, wanting to turn and look at the shock that must be dancing across Kagome's features, but refrained. I didn''t want to stop to chat. I didn't want to accidentally change my past by revealing too much more. I knew that this, for the sake not messing up history, was the one and only time I could see Kagome, and I had to be quick and efficient.
And dramatic.
But who doesn't enjoy dramatic exits?
"Ch-hotto! Matte!" I heard Kagome cry out, but I merely pried my right hand from my pants pocket and waved. The motion caused my sleeve to slip down, the soft fabric pooling at my crooked elbow. The cool autumn air stung the tender and raw tissue, and I knew that she could see the blackened and scarred flesh that traced the appendage. "Your arm...! Matte! I remember you! You were in Kouga's den that first time...! Matte yo!"
Ducking around a corner, my face all smiles, I ran all the way back to my great-grandmother's house, where my date for the evening was waiting for me.
The wind in my hair was fresh.
Part Fourteen, "Deja vu"
by Vega
~~~
Seven months later
~~~
I stood still, watching the young people go in and out of the fenced-off courtyard, dark hair flying in all directions, green skirts caught in the wind, smiles plastered on faces. The colours were tinted slightly violet, as I was peering through delicate purple shades so as to hide my vibrant blue eyes from the sea of dark ones around me.
How happy the people on the other side of the street seemed. Why wouldn't they be? School just let out for the weekend.
I flexed the fingers of my right hand briefly, feeling the new skin there ache dully in protest. In time it would cease to hurt when I moved, the doctors had said. In time, the surgically grafted skin would become more pliant, ease into the shape of my eviscerated appendage, mould itself around the withered tissue and grow slightly to make up for the pieces that were missing.
It felt damn good to just be out of those bandages. I kept my sleeves long at all times now, to hide the scars, the cobwebby looking crisscrossing veins and stitches that kept my new skin in place. It scared people when they looked at it. Truth be told, it scared me too.
Ah, what a miracle modern science is.
And I felt damn lucky to have lived long enough to take advantage of it.
The breeze shifted directions and my musings would have continued along the same vein, had I not spotted my quarry. She was smiling too, strolling out of the courtyard and onto the sidewalk, one hand wrapped around the shoulder strap of her knapsack. She was surrounded by other girls in the same uniform, the same age.
I shoved my marred right hand into my pants pocket, pulling my sleeve low to hide the markings.
Crossing the street quickly to keep up with her, I followed at a small distance as her and her group of friends walked down the street. Yes - this was her. I remembered the school uniform, had spent months trying to track down which school it was from, and then days watching the outside of said school.
And here she was.
We walked for maybe twenty minutes before her friends parted ways, and I had this girl to myself. As she turned into a park to take a short cut, I glanced around to make sure no one was following ME, and said, in a loud enough voice for her to hear me:
"Miko-sama."
The girl froze on the spot and turned to look behind her, finding me, with wary disbelief in her eyes. Beautiful blue-grey eyes, I mused. No wonder that Hanyou falls for her. Her hair was long and dark, her skin radiant and fresh. She was lovely in every sense of the word.
And this was my great-great-great-great-great-great-grandmother.
I wondered if I had inherited any physical traits from her at all, or if time and other people's blood had diluted my genetics enough to posses little more than the brilliant shimmer of a Youkai's eyes, and a Shikon Shard.
It felt almost surreal to be looking at her and knowing that 500 years ago she... we... I shook my head slightly to clear it of these thoughts. No, if I didn't hurry up and explain myself, I''d probably get a purifying arrow right through the heart.
"Miko-sama," I said again, this time more quietly. She took a few steps forward, towards me, understandably hesitant.
"Who are you?" she asked, her eyes narrowed, her head cocked to the side.
I smiled, pleased to be able to understand her without the aid of any supernatural objects. My months in this country's various hospitals had not been spent in vain. "My name is Aslin," I said softly.
"Have we met before?"
I looked down at my feet, amused. "Do I seem familiar to you? I should, Miko-sama. I am the culmination of your love."
"My... love?"
I sighed and looked up at the trees to our left, allowing myself to be momentarily distracted by the meditative whisper of the rustling leaves and the faint twittering of the birds. "Five hundred years ago," I began, and I heard her footsteps get closer, "Five hundred years ago you are friends with a Hanyou. His name is Inu Yasha."
She gasped and came around too look me in the eye. "How do you know about that?!"
I smiled a third time, pressing forward despite her question. "You are also friends with a Houshin named Miroku, a Taiyjia named Sango, and a Kitsune Youkai named Shippou."
She froze and just stared at me, her eyes and mouth wide with shock.
I reached into my coat pocket and produced a shimmering magenta shard of crystal and held it up for her to see, pinched precariously between my thumb and forefinger.
"Shikon Shard!" she gasped. I nodded, and pushed it into her hands. She took it with wonder on her face, then looked back up at mine. "Who ARE you?"
"As I said, my name is Aslin, and, somewhere deep inside of me, I am part Youkai."
"Hanyou?!"
"Not quite," I shook my head, "not half-Youkai. Less than that. My great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather was an Inu-Hanyou. He mated with a Miko, and their son married the daughter of a great warrior woman, and a man tainted with Youkai blood curse. Their daughter mated with a full-blooded Kitsune-Youkai, and they had a girl child as well. Do you follow me?"
Kagome shook her head... then nodded slowly. She was chewing slightly on her bottom lip.
"That made my great-great-great-grandmother a Hanyou, with more Youkai blood than Ningen. Slowly, through the generations, the Youkai blood thinned, until me. I am more Ningen than Youkai."
"Your eyes shimmer like a Youkai's," she said slowly, choked up.
"Hai, they do."
She clutched the Shikon Shard against her breast, and I could see the faint outline of the half-complete Shikon No Tama pressing back through the fabric of her shirt. "Why are you telling me this?"
"That Shikon Shard has been passed down from generation to generation, from the body of mother to daughter. It was placed inside the womb of the warrior woman who is my ancestor to negate the curse that the father carried and would have been passed onto the child. Every girl-child born tho this line inherits the Shikon Shard, and passes it on to her daughter. But, Kagome Higurashi," he eyes widened again and I paused for a small chuckle, "Yes, I know your name. But... it is time that the Shikon Shard went back to where it was supposed to go."
"To me?" Kagome's hands spasmed over the crystal shard, and I knew that she was afraid I would take it away from her.
"No," I said softly, turning and walking away a few steps. Then I stopped and look back over my shoulder. "To my great-great-great-great-great-great-grandmother. Keep it safe, Miko-sama, and give it to Sango-sama when you get back."
Then I began walking, wanting to turn and look at the shock that must be dancing across Kagome's features, but refrained. I didn''t want to stop to chat. I didn't want to accidentally change my past by revealing too much more. I knew that this, for the sake not messing up history, was the one and only time I could see Kagome, and I had to be quick and efficient.
And dramatic.
But who doesn't enjoy dramatic exits?
"Ch-hotto! Matte!" I heard Kagome cry out, but I merely pried my right hand from my pants pocket and waved. The motion caused my sleeve to slip down, the soft fabric pooling at my crooked elbow. The cool autumn air stung the tender and raw tissue, and I knew that she could see the blackened and scarred flesh that traced the appendage. "Your arm...! Matte! I remember you! You were in Kouga's den that first time...! Matte yo!"
Ducking around a corner, my face all smiles, I ran all the way back to my great-grandmother's house, where my date for the evening was waiting for me.
The wind in my hair was fresh.