Of This World And Yesterday

"Imagine the island of blue in the middle of a tropical storm, an eye of peace.
You must admit the hurricane is there.
To do otherwise is self-deception, which in nature is fatal, or worse, hypocritical.
Even honest, decent, generous folk must fight to survive when the driving winds blow.
And yet, such folk will also do whatever they can, whenever they can, to expand the blue.
To increase that gentle, centered realm where patience prevails
and no law is made by tooth or claw."
-Earth, David Brin

Chapter 20- Calm

Softly, Kagome climbed the steps, padding her way upstairs as faint murmurings rose their way from the floor below, the sounds of Sango, Kami and Shippou readying the couch in the living room for its nightly occupant. Her hand rested lightly on the railing, sliding upward into the darkness of the hall above.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow they would investigate Mugen Academy, tomorrow they would investigate the remains of the institute that Haruka, Michiru, and Hotaru had gone to not so long ago. They once called it the magicians school, for the talented in their fields; art, music, language, sports, academics. There was a trepidation warming Kagome, a nervousness about going to the place. What would such a ruin look like? If Karasu had not entrenched herself there, then...where? If it was a ruin, where could she be hiding? Perhaps not the building itself, but somewhere nearby. Somewhere to watch and listen, to spy. Kagome didn't like waiting right now; it felt wrong, as though giving her time. Maybe it would lull her into a false sense of security, thinking she had succeeded in leading them away earlier. Though she had the sinking feeling waiting was going to be a hindrance rather than a help. At the same time, they would need all the assistance they could get, and without the Outers, the senshi team was weakened. Karasu had kept herself a step ahead of them, and Kagome wondered if she was going to take the chance to make her move. So far, it felt like she had been testing or gauging. Lethal enough, but something Karasu said still bothered her from the day they met.

"...you're fairly irrelevant really, in the grand scheme of things...."

She said she'd take the Shikon no Tama then. There was a carelessness about her words, as though it was an opportunity not to be missed, but hardly her main objective. If not, then what was?

Kagome alighted the steps, peering into the darkness and making out the shapes of the doors upstairs. Light fell faintly across the hallway, shining from a nightlight in the upstairs bathroom, marking its location for late night wanderers. Three of the doors were closed, evidence of various rooms. Kami said that she put away the sleeping bag Kagome used the previous night, back in the closet of Hotaru's room. Having left her own in the feudal era, Kagome was borrowing.

It had taken better than a half hour to get everyone out of the house that evening, settling down into an uneasy wait for morning. Inuyasha had argued about leaving, of course. Eventually, his reasoning won out, temperamental and stubborn as it was. He claimed that if they were procrastinating on going to Mugen because of the senshi's injuries, then it wasn't safe for Kagome to be at the Outers home without them at full strength. There was no arguing with him this time, and an osuwari just didn't seem like a good bargaining chip. Now, above her, she could hear him pacing on the roof, and she wondered if he ever slept. His presence was reassuring, though she still worried. Even Inuyasha could get tired sometimes. He would sit up there and watch all night, Tetsusaiga against his shoulder, warily eyeing the street.

Kagome sighed, closing her eyes and opening them again, letting them adjust to the dimness. There would be no attack on the house. Of that, she felt oddly sure. If Karasu had considered the bomb a necessary- though cowardly- act, she doubted it would happen again. Charging the house with kugutsu seemed ludicrous for some reason, comical. Something else was stirring this time, and it wasn't just another random test or distraction.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow.

Which door was Hotaru's again?

Kagome pressed her ear to the door, hearing only silence on the other side. Very carefully, she turned the knob, planning to creep inside and open the closet, grab the sleeping bag and creep back out without waking up Hotaru. According to the other senshi, she wasn't as delicate now as she used to be, though using her gift of healing could be draining. Best to let her sleep.

Watercolored light played across the floor, the splashes of color that flowed from dozens of small lamps, their glass hurricanes spreading cool tones through the room. The dim light was soft, unfocused, catching on picture frames and mirrors, letting them reflect the light again. Books lined clean swept shelves on the walls, and posters of elegant old paintings had been framed, an image of Ophelia weaving flowers into her hair hanging over her desk, faint brightness touching the lavender in her gown. Moonlight pressed in against a curtained window. In the room's center, Hotaru sat on her bed, legs hanging off the side and blankets turned over, around her like a warm nest. White socks were visible from under the draping bedspread, not quite touching the ground. Her face was downcast, looking at something she held in her lap.

"Oh," Kagome said, keeping her voice low. "You're awake."

Her head moved slightly in acknowledgment, then she slowly glanced over at Kagome with dark purple eyes, watching as she slipped her way inside.
"Just getting the sleeping bag," Kagome whispered, quickly and quietly heading towards the closet, sliding it open and reaching down for the dark blue bedroll. "Arigatou, for letting me borrow it."

"Mm."

The younger girl kept her head bowed, sitting on the edge of her bed in silence. Standing where she was, Kagome saw what Hotaru held. A picture frame, its gilded edges gleaming in the lamplight, her thin hands running over the image's surface. She seemed very frail suddenly, small, porcelain, white skin contrasting to the dark around her, the pale light setting her face into a swirl of shadow.

"Hotaru-chan?" Kagome began, slightly uncertainly. She'd only known the senshi a few days, and prying into their privacy seemed inappropriate. But the aura of delicacy that hovered around Hotaru felt wrong, as though the porcelain girl could break. Kagome moved slightly closer, looking between the laced fingers that rested on the portrait she held. "That's a lovely picture. Who is it?"

Slowly, Hotaru stirred, her hands sliding aside and revealing three people in the image. A woman with black hair, a man with grey hair and glasses, and a young girl held up to the camera between them, all smiling, the excited child waving at the camera as the woman tried to calm her. She ran a finger across the surface, tapping it over the people as she said, "Mama. Papa. Me. A long time ago."

Kagome wasn't sure how to react. Part of her warned her away, to not press. Another part urged her to sit down, to see what was the matter and to try to help. She may not have known the senshi for long, but they were friends. Events of the last few days seemed to be proving that well enough. It was Hotaru who decided for her, quietly continuing, "Mama died a long time ago. Papa a couple months ago. That's why I live with the others now." She glanced up at Kagome, purple eyes meeting blue ones. "Is there anything else, Kagome-san?"

"No..." she turned away, taking a half step toward the door and then pausing and turning back. "I don't have a Papa either."

A sardonic smile formed on Hotaru's lips, then faded as quickly as it came. "That's not right you know. Not a couple months ago. Papa died when Mama did." Her fingers tensed on the edges of the frame, silver glinting as the frame shifted on her lap, slender legs moving as she adjusted her position. "A long time ago."

Something Inuyasha told her surfaced, and she tried to remember when he relayed his discussions with Jupiter and Dreamweaver a couple days ago. Hotaru had been controlled by the creature Mistress 9, and her Father by another Death Buster, Germatoid. A long time ago? They had settled into this world for several years before making their move. To Hotaru, yes, that was a long time ago. "I'm sure you miss him," Kagome told her, standing a little closer and trying to get a better look at Hotaru's family. "Whether it was a long time ago or not."

"Miss? No...the Papa who raised me was nothing more than a shell," Hotaru said, voice sharp and slightly bitter. "After the accident, he wasn't Papa anymore."

Kagome watched her as she set her picture down on the bedstand, face down to hide the image it portrayed. Something hovered around her, a weighted sadness that showed when her fingers lingered a moment on the downturned frame, sliding slowly back to her lap.

"He saved you, didn't he?"

Hotaru looked up at the older girl again, meeting her even gaze. Kagome had wrapped her arms around the sleeping bag, lacing her fingers together as she held it still. The silence was a confirmation of her guess, and Kagome looked away, eyes straying to one of the glowing lamps.

"Not the same person. But looks the same. Sounds the same. Maybe even acts the same. The same person you took that picture with, but not. If you loved him, it would be hard not to miss him, wouldn't it?" Kagome closed her eyes, trying to avoid the steady gleam of the lamp. If someone was in love, it was hard to forget. Hard to move on. If moving on was easy, then how strong could you have felt in the first place? And of what worth would those same weak feelings be later?

"Maybe," Hotaru returned, watching the distant expression on Kagome's face, and understanding she spoke from some kind of personal experience. "He did what he thought would be best for me, bargaining for my life. In the end," she said quietly, drawing up on herself a bit, "he helped to turn me into Mistress 9. He tried to kill the Princess, Michiru-mama, Haruka-papa and Setsuna-mama. I turned into something I hated. I nearly killed Chibiusa-chan. I used the power of her Silver Crystal to destroy everything."

As Mistress 9? A body with a different soul. Another person, a distorted shell once called Hotaru. A distorted shell once her.

"Chibiusa forgave you. Usagi forgave you. Michiru, Haruka and Setsuna are part of your family now." Kagome returned her eyes to Hotaru, bending forward and leaning in a bit to catch her attention. "You are not Mistress 9. She's not inside your head any more. She doesn't control you. Maybe she is part of you somewhere. Part of who you are. But you are not her."

Hotaru brought up her eyes to meet Kagome's. The grey blue had deepened in the darkness, steady though reflecting the gleam of the lamps, the darkness of her lashes framing the wideness of her eyes.

After a moment, Kagome smiled.

Hotaru blinked as the other girl straightened up, stepping towards the door. The faint light of the hallway slanted through the door, somewhat ajar.

"You should get some rest, Hotaru-chan. School tomorrow. I've got some studying to do before I get some sleep. Fortunately it's literature, and we're just reading. A little relaxation would be good now. It's going to be a long day tomorrow, ne?"

Hotaru gave her a tiny nod, looking down at the stretch of her legs, falling over the side of her bed, blankets trailing alongside them. "Yes...good night, Kagome-san." Then, after a moment, she added, "Thank you."

Kagome grinned a bit, then slipped outside the door.

Youkai eyes are better for seeing in the dark than human ones, and though Shippou was still just a cub, he was more than capable of using his eyes. He'd waited till the house was still, waiting for the even breathing from the sofa and for the silence of Kagome in her sleeping bag, on which he sat. Then it took him several minutes to screw up enough courage to get up and head upstairs. Only Kirara had lifted her head, large red eyes blinking once then closing again at his departure. He couldn't help but be curious, after all. The only time he'd seen the senshi actually act as senshi was when the bomb had gone off in the wellhouse shrine, and they hadn't used any magic then, so far as he could tell. He had been slightly curious to Inuyasha and Uranus' fight earlier in the day, but that was his first opportunity to actually wield the magic television wand, and he wanted to take advantage of it. Besides, he thought Inuyasha would beat Uranus easily, particularly without being transformed. Had he known the magical girl would use her powers and could beat back, he might have been inspired to get off his tail. This could be his only opportunity to see one at work, at least without being in mortal danger, and therefore having other things to worry about. Like living. Kami had, after all, said she'd be working tonight. She'd never told him to leave before.

Not weighing much, he passed silently over the floorboards, pausing momentarily at Kami's door to see a very faint light emanating from the bottom, fading and then brightening again at his feet. All of the doors in the upstairs were closed, but he'd been in and out of all of them over the day, helping out with chores. He'd learned fairly quickly that climbing into the dryer was a bad idea, and not to touch some of the small bits of white clothing that she put in the laundry, because that was not for boys. A little bit of uncertainty crept in, and he wondered if maybe he'd just get in the way this time if he asked to help. Or watch. Or whatever. Despite the faint light, it was still inside the room, and he tried to make out the sound of breathing. Various sounds of silence played against his hearing, of machines humming through the house, or of wind pushing past the outside walls. Finally, he took a deep breath, leapt up for the knob on the door and turned it, swinging into the room a little and dropping back to the ground as he saw the motionless figure before him.

Dreamweaver stood transparent, her eyes closed and face slack, the source of light that flickered at her doorway coming from a luminescence on her skin, mingled with lit scented candles on her dresser, one lavender, one rose. Her hands were folded before her, balanced just before the grey bow on her collar, palms pressed together, fingertips matching within their white gloves.

Then her eyes opened narrowly, looking beyond him to watch her vacant reflection in an oval antique mirror, the surface of it empty of image. The usual delicacy of her features had faded, becoming glassy and hard, eyes sharp, focused, gleaming slightly in the reflected candlelight. In that moment, the nervousness left Shippou, and he remembered the frightening look Ukifune had worn the last time he saw her, back at her old mansion. Now, her eyes, open, were still lavender, still her. This was the power of a senshi, not just the attacks he'd heard them talk about lightly, the same way Inuyasha would refer to using the Kaze no Kizu, or Miroku the kazaana. Both of his usual companions referred to their abilities in conversation, and both seemed to be fairly ordinary- at least as far as Shippou was concerned- when not fighting. Though when they were, it could be frightening to be on the opposing end. That girl, Usagi. She'd shown them a tiny sliver of her power that evening, releasing a breath of brightness from the Silver Crystal she carried. That tiny slip of silvery energy had warmed the room, clearing the air and making his skin prickle. Shippou wondered what power each of the senshi carried with them, beyond the mere fighting skills they spoke of.

Dreamweaver sighed, her eyes falling shut and the light around her fading as she shook her head, long waves of dark hair falling around her shoulders as she relaxed, rubbing her temple for a moment before looking up again, face softer and more gentle, a return to the ordinary. Her reflection had returned, and she was no longer an illuminated shadow.

"Hm? Shippou-kun? What is it?" Dreamweaver asked as she noticed the kitsune hovering by her door, open mouthed and apparently dumbstruck. A faint smile formed, and she chuckled once, tilting her head to the side. "I didn't scare you did I? Haruka-chan says I look creepy when I work this way."

Finally getting his voice back, Shippou stuttered, "N...no...I just wanted to know what the light was...."

Glancing at the clock, it read past midnight. "Ah. Did you need something? You should be asleep. It's very late," she told him, looking puzzled. His clothes were slightly rumpled, as though he'd been lying down, but he didn't look as though he'd woken up.

Suddenly a little shy, Shippou shuffled and glanced around. "Wanted a drink of water."

Weaver blinked, brows lifting in mock suspicion. "Oh? From the upstairs bathroom? Why didn't you go to the kitchen or the downstairs one? I showed you how to use water from the tap."

Sourly, Shippou dropped to the ground, folding his legs and pouting that he'd been caught in a little lie. "Feh."

She laughed, covering her mouth with her hand. "You've been around Inuyasha-kun too long, Shippou-kun! You're starting to sound like him."

"I do not," he glowered, glaring up from under his bangs and then looking away stubbornly. "I just wanted to see what you were doing, that's all. I never got to see any of you actually use your magic stuff, and I didn't know that Haruka girl was going to use her Sword thing with Inuyasha."

Weaver smiled, then petted him lightly on the head for a moment in encouragement. "It's all right. But I'm done now," she sighed, smile dimming thoughtfully as she glanced at the surface of the mirror.

"Did you find anything? What'd you do?"

"Setsuna-san sleeps, nothing more. The binding that has been placed around her is still intact, though her mind feels clearer now. She will break through, given time," Weaver told him, glancing past the mirror and in the general direction of Setsuna's room. "She is strong. It will be soon."

"And Hotaru?" Shippou prompted, remembering that was why Kami had announced she was working tonight in the first place. "How's she? She didn't look good either."

At that, Weaver's face deepened into a frown, and her hand became a fist, pressed against her chin. "There is nothing there."

"Huh?"

She shook her head helplessly, turning away as a swirl of mist flowed over her shoulders and down her sides, enveloping her and returning her to her normal state, wearing a long white nightgown, flowing around her ankles. Her expression remained the same, thoughtful though pensive. "There is nothing there to sense. Hotaru-chan has faced any nightmares she may have left since her time as the Vessel of Mistress 9. But she does not act the same. I understand why she would be upset with the return of a creature from this Tau Ceti place, but she is carrying an unusual load of sad memories. That is not a good sign, but...." Kami trailed, shaking her head and reaching up, unbinding the loops in her hair as she picked up her brush to comb it, whipping it through a couple times, then stopping anxiously. "There is no sign of an outside source effecting her. I can't trace anything preying on her mind. But there must be. She wouldn't fall into this over the appearance of this Karasu person alone. She knows far better than that." Kami set the brush down, began to reach for her hair to braid it, then let her hand drop. "There's only a void."

Shippou watched her as she bit her lip, folding and unfolding her hands nervously on her counter. There was something set up on the top of it, facing outward for him to see. Some kind of gilded book, a picture on the front of it. A man held a little girl in his arms, a woman who looked like an older Hotaru with them, trying to keep the child from squirming too much for the picture. "Well," he said, trying to cheer her up, "I'm sure you'll figure it out. In the past, you got into Inuyasha's dreams, right? You've got to be strong to get into a head as dense as that!"

She lifted her head and smiled faintly at his attempt to make her laugh. "You are very sweet, Shippou-kun."

"Am not," he muttered, folding his arms again stubbornly. He wasn't sweet. Little kids were sweet, and he didn't really feel like being a little kid at the moment. By this time, he'd be a grownup if he went back to the sengoku jidai and lived the time between. Of course, that meant he'd be around here somewhere. Or did they not go back? The possibility began to dawn on him that they might not return, and he glanced at Kami as she once again attempted to braid her hair for the night. Stuck here. Would that be so bad? Everyone he knew or cared about was here, and this time was much more interesting than the past. All the candy he could want, and there was the television and so much in this world to see. He'd been stuck in the house most of the time. No, no, they had to go back. Naraku was still wandering around in the past, and they had to stop him. The senshi couldn't do that. There was Miroku too, with his hand. If they didn't, there'd be all kinds of trouble. He'd live until this time anyway. He hoped. Where was he if he did live this long? What would his life be like?

"Shippou-kun, you'd better get back to bed," Kami advised with a suppressed yawn. "It's late, and we'll be getting up with everyone else when they get dressed for school."

"Oh..." he realized, breaking out of his reverie. She was tying off a ribbon at the end of her second braid, and turning down her own tall, foreign style bed. He shuffled around a bit, half turned, then turned back. "Can I stay here?" he blurted, blinking up at her.

Kami stared at him, wondering what he was possibly thinking. "Why? Don't you always stay with Kagome-san?"

"Well...yeah...." he faltered, shifting around a bit and fidgeting. "I was just wondering," he muttered, then looked up. "Night, Kami."

"Good night...."

He pulled on the door behind him, and Kami pushed it the rest of the way until it was closed. What a puzzling little boy.

Did you like the scene between Kagome and Hotaru? I've been trying to get as many parallels between to two series scraped together as I can, and since the possession of souls is a common theme between the two series, I thought I'd bring it up here, comparing Sailormoon's Mistress 9/Professor Tomoe to Inuyasha's Kikyou. No, I'm not a Kikyou hater, as you can probably tell by reading the scene...I'm not exactly a devout fan- (I love Inuyasha and Kagome! ^___^) but the fact that she plays a major role in the IY/K relationship (whether you like it or not) adds a great deal to the storyline...Inuyasha/Kagome would be much more ordinary (ordinary= typical/boring) without the resurrected ex-girlfriend. In a sense, the Mistress 9 incidents remind me of what happened to Kikyou...after coming into contact with Germatoid and Pharaoh 90, Hotaru became something very sinister and unlike what she really is while her soul was...I guess you could say submerged. In a sense, she hurt and tried to kill her friends as Mistress 9, the 'real' Hotaru existing within the reformed, adult body Mistress 9 created. Though at the same time, it was her. Hotaru is as much Mistress 9 as Kagome is the ressurected Kikyou. I find Kikyou and her role in the series too interesting to hate. Does that make any sense?
Okay, now that I've preached about Kikyou and the nature of what happens to people who have problems dealing with their soul-or-souls, onto something else. I've been having fun with Shippou again...hehe. Anyway, referring back to Kami Monogatari, Shippou developed a slight crush on the then-about-his-age Kami/Ukifune. I'm just playing around with that a bit here again.
Til next storytime.
~Queen

Coming up next, in Chapter 21: Nest-

"Welcome to my home."
Those words caught Uranus and Miroku's attention, and they stopped to listen as Neptune read the paper in her hands, unfolded. Black letters had been printed neatly onto the page in calm, dark strokes of clear handwriting.