Disclaimer: Inuyasha is mine in spirit and indulgent fantasy, but alas, not in copyright. ;_; I claim only the original aspects of the fic, and give credit to the existing peoples/events that some of it is loosely based on (and I apologize again for anything offensive; I'm trying to avoid stereotype, but it's a lot harder than it looks. I concede that it may not be totally accurate, but, well..it's a fic. Don't hurt me. ;-; ).
Chapter Four:
"So, White-hair, where are we going?" Kagome asked tiredly, a strained look in her eyes. "Because I'm almost starting to wish we'd just get there and get this over with."
For seven days it had rained, not hard but a cold, constant drizzle--the sort of rain that let the chill seep into you so deep it ran through your marrow. The march had not slowed one bit; they stopped to rest only at midday for meals and at night for sleep. Her hair was damp, her skirt and boots muddy from sloshing through wet leaves, she felt miserable in every possible way. But what bothered her most of all really was the uneasy silence that had fallen over the camp.
Or rather, that had fallen around her and her alone.
The other townspeople had formed loose groups and talked amongst themselves, but they turned silent when she approached, and the natives kept an almost respectful distance. Except for White-hair, of course, who just plain ignored her.
Several heads turned at the sound of her voice, but the golden-eyed man in question looked steadfastly ahead and refused to even acknowledge her presence. She held back a sigh. It didn't matter that she couldn't understand him or he her, she just..she just wanted to hear another voice, to not feel so alone. She was walking in a group crammed full of people, yet was completely isolated from all of them, and the silence was getting to her. She almost wished he'd yell at her again--at least then he treated her like she was worthy of his attention.
"Really?" she said abruptly on a whim, continuing in a conversational tone. Anything was better than the silence, even her own voice, and she was bored. "That's fascinating. So, what do you think of the weather?" Before he could answer--not that he would anyway--she made a sympathetic sound and nodded. "I don't like it either. You know, Whitey, if you hadn't burned down my house we could be nice and dry right now. But I suppose there's no use crying over singed homes."
She may have been imagining it, but White-hair's shoulders seemed to tense a little. But he gave no indication otherwise that he even knew she was there, not even a flick of his odd ears. Several more people were looking now though, including several townspeople--she smirked inwardly at that. Ha, they already thought she was a crazy witch, might as well give them reason to. She'd reached the point where she didn't care what anyone thought about her anymore.
And teasing her silent captor without him knowing it was, she had to admit, fun stress relief.
"It really was a nice house though; one of the first homes in town with a second floor when it was built. What's your house like, White-hair? Not that I'm planning on burning it down or anything." Pause. "Well, maybe. But I'm sure you'll kill me first, so there's really no point in speculating about it." She grimaced at that unpleasant train of thought and decided to change subjects; all the other people had turned away huffily by now, but she continued thinking aloud, unable to hold back a small playful smile. "But enough about me, lets talk about you. We need to have a discussion about your blatant lack of a shirt. Really, if you can't afford one I'd be glad to lend you some money. Except my money was in the house. Drat. But still, you have an awful lot of nerve sleeping next to me without a shirt like that." A very unladylike thought occurred about sleeping next to shirtless men and she repressed it swiftly. It was still rude. "I notice plenty of other nice Indian men have shirts. Why can't you?"
Briefly she wondered why he wasn't cold, and found herself staring at the raindrops glistening in his snowy hair and down his back ahead of her. And at those ears again; they were twitching, just slightly, following the sounds of branches cracking underfoot and animals calling each other through the trees, of people talking and clothes rustling. They were turning every which way, it seemed, except towards her. Maybe deliberately.
She succumbed to a sigh and gave up her game, realizing it was pointless. "I guess it was a stupid idea," she muttered to herself half-heartedly. "It's too bad though.. I didn't even get to the part about your cute little ears." She shook her head in mock-disappointment, though she really was a little disappointed that it had failed.
White-hair's ears jerked back and he stopped and turned around slowly to face her, giving her a strange look. "..Seto na?"
Kagome froze, stunned--she had gotten his attention. That was the first thing he'd spoken in days, other than 'Kyeh, kyeh' and the accursed 'Het, squaw.' They stared at each other in silence for a moment. "I was just, uh.." she fumbled for words in her surprise, trying to figure out what she had said that was important. Especially considering he couldn't understand her. "I was just talking about your ears."
To her undying amazement, the Indian blinked his golden eyes, took a flustered step back, and blushed.
Kagome took a step back as well, startled, and could only stare as her captor tried to compose himself helplessly, still blushing. That was when she heard a muffled snickering from behind, and she spun around to find that all the tribesmen within hearing range were barely able to contain themselves. Especially that dark-haired one from before. Oh yes, he was doubling over with laughter.
"'Aye wa jusuto taw'te-i amou sor heers'," one of the Indians gasped quietly between laughs, setting off another round of smothered snickers. She frowned slightly in confusion. She knew they were speaking in their own language, but with their accent it sounded almost like what she had.. she blinked several times and flushed. Oh good lord.
Apparently, in native tongue, she had just something very, very naughty.
At this point the still-flustered White-hair finally noticed his tribe's amusement, and his expression darkened. Rounding about, he silenced them all with that amber glare, letting it pause significantly on her. It didn't have quite the same scathing effect as before though, probably because he was still blushing. It changed his whole countenance and made him look rather, she thought oddly, like a miffed puppy.
"S-so ahu," he stammered, grasping for words and growling in frustration, "mehet nai, squaw. Kaiyo chi'taio." At everyone's continued stares, he narrowed his eyes and spun around. "Feh!" And with that he stormed off, leaping swiftly past the tribe and through the trees. He disappeared far ahead before she could even react.
Kagome stood quietly for a minute, feeling slightly guilty and embarrassed. She hadn't meant to say something dirty--whatever it was that she said. She really wished she knew. Now it seemed she had humiliated both herself and her captor in front of the whole tribe.
Thunder growled low in the distance, and the rain began to thicken. She sighed and hefted up her sodden skirt, not wanting to get left behind and lost. As if she wasn't already alone enough; now she'd even chased White-hair away. Much as he seemed to hate her, he was all the company she had.
She felt..rejected.
Something bumped into her from behind suddenly, causing her to stumble forward. At first she thought it was her captor come back to het-het her along faster again, and was torn between relief and panic.
It all gave way to confusion though when the person backed up and hurriedly apologized--and it was a girl.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," the stranger said, brushing a wet lock of hair off her face. "I didn't mean to--I tripped on my skirt." The girl scratched her head sheepishly. "I suppose it wasn't meant for this kind of travel."
"It's alright," Kagome said quickly, more surprised by being talked to than by being pushed. The girl looked to be about her age, with long dark hair held up and auburn eyes, and was obviously an Englishwoman like her. But Kagome didn't recognize her, and it seemed that she didn't recognize Kagome either--for which she was glad. "Mine isn't in much better condition." She gestured at the soggy swath of cloth with a cautious smile. "It's times like these I almost wish I could wear men's breeches."
"Wouldn't that be something?" the girl laughed, and Kagome decided right then that she liked her. The stranger's grin faded though suddenly, and she hesitated, a worried look crossing her eyes. "Say, would you..would you happen to have seen a young boy by the name of Kohaku? He has dark hair and freckles." She looked at the ground while she explained. "He's my brother..I lost him during the attack. I want to know if he was taken too, or hurt in the fire, or if he got away." Her voice grew pained. "I hope he got away."
Kagome shook her head. "I haven't seen any boys with freckles..I'm sure he made it out." She smiled reassuringly. "I've been looking for my mother..she..she looks a lot like me, but shorter hair. Have you seen her?"
The stranger shook her head and looked at the ground again. The rain picked up more, as if responding to the lonely, lonely silence.
"It's strange," Kagome said suddenly and quietly as they walked, earning a glance from the other girl. The past week with White-hair had given her an uncanny skill for reading expressions. "I don't know how to feel. I--I know I should be glad that she's not here, and I am. It means there's still a chance she got away. But at the same time I miss her, and I'm alone, and I'm scared, and I wish she was here so I could run to her and have her somehow make everything alright again. But she can't. And at the same time still, there's the pain of not knowing--I just wish there was some way to know that she's alright, that she made it out of the fire and is safe somewhere. I suppose that's all I want, really. That and I'm homesick." She laughed nervously, rubbing her hands absently against the cold with a somewhat sad smile. "Does it feel something like that?"
The girl lifted her head and looked at her through the rain, then nodded and smiled softly. A moment of quiet understanding passed between the two, a bond of shared empathy, and it comforted them. And it gave them some hope.
"I'm Sango," the girl said abruptly, her smile spreading into a broad lopsided grin. She held out her hand to shake. "Sango Taijya, from the east side of town."
"Pleased to meet you," Kagome said, returning the friendly grin. "My name is Kagome."
She realized her mistake right after she'd said it.
"Wait a second.." Sango frowned slightly. "That sounds familiar."
Panic rose in Kagome's throat at the same time as her stomach fell. She knew what was coming. Uh oh. "Really?" A nervous laugh escaped. "There must be someone else by the same name around, I'm sure it's quite common these days." She tried desperately to look as normal as possible.
Alas, too late.
"No--no, there was something important about it." The girl's frown deepened in puzzlement. "Wasn't there something going on in town about a girl named Kagome? Kagome..Himake, or Higurashi or something."
Footsteps sloshing through the wet leaves were Kagome's only warning as a small cluster of townspeople rushed by her en masse, causing her to stumble down and scrape her leg. The way they tramped about as a mob would have been almost comical if they weren't tramping over her, really.
"Sango, what are you doing over here! We warned you to stay close.." the old woman speaking threw a suspicious glance at Kagome as she sat dazedly on the ground, and lowered her voice to a whisper. The group had gathered protectively around her newfound friend-to-be; she supposed they had overheard them talking. And while she couldn't make out what the woman was whispering, it was fairly obvious that it wasn't pleasant.
Sango's eyes suddenly widened, and the look she threw Kagome was full of confusion and disbelief. Before she could speak a word in her defense, the woman had taken Sango firmly by the arm and was pulling her away backwards, back to where the rest of the Englishmen were waiting anxiously. Kagome was finally left alone. Again.
She looked after them without moving for a long moment, then got up, not caring about the mud and the scratches now decorating her legs. Maybe not even aware of them. She had thought for a moment that--maybe--but no, of course not. Everything always went away.
Kagome felt drained, in so many ways--worn, tired of it. She almost felt like giving up. Things grew only worse and worse without letting up, and it was hard not to feel a little helpless, or a little hopeless. But instead, she wordlessly fell into line with the march, trudging alone through the rain.
So lost in thought was she, that she never noticed the pair of eyes watching her through the trees. They watched like a cats eyes--focused, intrigued, with that quiet, unnatural intensity that few but a cat can achieve, though they did not belong to a cat. And while she did not notice the eyes, the eyes noticed her; they noticed the melancholy slump to her shoulders, the cuts on her legs, the empty expression, and they noticed the way everyone avoided her, even her own kind. The owner of the eyes considered all these things, and was profoundly confused. The eyes shone a puzzled gold in the shadows of the branches, and they wondered.
Glancing about at the other captives, it was also noticed by that cat-like gaze that she was being given a very wide girth. The eyes frowned. Glancing back at the girl, it was noticed that she was lagging again, though she tried to keep up. The owner of the liquid amber stare made no motion for some time, though its thoughts were quick as river torrents and just as wild and aimless.
Anger, for the moment, had been submerged by confusion and good dose of curiosity, with maybe a hint--just a hint, mind you--of compassion.
Oh, feh.
A part of Kagome heard something thud nearby in the soft, damp leaves, but the rest of her took no notice. Everything seemed dull and muddled, everything seemed so pointless. But her mind returned swiftly to reality when a strip of cloth thrust itself in front of her face.
"Miyu set, squaw."
With a surprised gasp she stepped back, and the cloth retreated from view until she could see the hand holding it--and a wave of white hair behind that, framing a piercing glare.
Kagome froze, thinking he had come to confront her and vent his fury about earlier--surely he must still be angry after an episode like that. But he simply stood there and held out the cloth. If anything, he was trying to look bored.
"That's--for me?" She indicated herself timidly, and he rolled his eyes like it was obvious. Startled, she blinked a few times. "But why?"
"Hn?"
"Why?" She pointed at the cloth and at herself, and shrugged.
White-hair stared a moment, then snorted, blowing a few strands of snowy hair off his face. "Miyu, ka I yomin." He took the strip, wound it around his arm with large, exaggerated motions, then unwrapped it again and held it out.
"I.." She took it and held it gently, trying to figure out the strange gift, and he pointed at her leg. Then it fell into place. "I--oh! This is supposed to be a bandage?"
Her response was another snort, and he looked away.
Kneeling, she pulled up her skirt slightly and winced at the sight of her bloody leg--she hadn't realized she'd scratched it up that bad. None of them were that deep, but that didn't mean they couldn't get infected. She carefully wrapped the cloth around and tied it off neatly, watching him the whole time. The caring gesture had caught her by such surprise that she didn't know how to react. When she finished, she got up and moved around into his field of vision. He scowled and looked away in the other direction.
"I know you can't understand me," she said, "but--I'm sorry about earlier. And..thank you."
Even if he had understood, she had the feeling he wouldn't have let it show. But he glanced at her with one eye under those snowy white bangs, pointed in the direction of the tribe, and with a slight smirk on his lips, proclaimed: "Het!"
"Yes, sir," she said. Then it was his turn to be surprised again, because she smiled at him, and kept on smiling as she set off at a quick trot after the others. Wearing a look of supreme indignation, he folded his arms and fell in beside her.
When they rejoined the group, he didn't say another word and didn't look at her once, but kept perfect pace by her side, step for step. He matched her so perfectly that when they halted for the night by a riverbank and she stopped, he didn't even overstep, but stopped at the same precise moment. He then left and returned with food.
Somehow, she had earned her captors attention--heck, even if he still didn't like her, it was some small symbol that at least she was worthy of not liking--and that was a step upwards. And strange as it was, it was perhaps just what she most needed to snap herself out of her downward cycle. He hadn't walked away.
And that's what she was really smiling about.
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Thunder awoke Kagome that night with a deafening clap, and she shrieked and grabbed hold of White-hair's arm. The steady rain that had plagued them for days had finally broken into a storm, and by the sheets of water sluicing down through the trees, it was going to be a deluge.
It took her a few moments to catch her breath from the fright, during which she realized she was thoroughly soaked. She looked at White-hair and found that he was already awake, looking at her with half-lidded eyes.
"Sorry," she said, letting go of his arm. He shook himself like a dog and got up, ears twitching, and that's when she heard faint sounds through the rain of people talking frantically and moving.
White-hair frowned slightly. "Kyeh," he told her, and bounded off swiftly through the curtain of rain, heading towards the rest of the tribe. He quickly disappeared in the downpour, and she was left with nothing but the harsh sound of trees moaning in the wind and the rain.
Feeling the cold, Kagome shivered and pulled the blanket they had been lying on over her head; even if it was already wet, it would keep out the rest of the water. She then stood up and listened, perfectly still. The rain muffled everything like a heavy cloth, but between claps of thunder she could make out shouting, and she imagined that she could hear White-hair issuing orders.
She suddenly felt scared, standing there alone in the dark and the rain, and was torn by her desire to go to him and see what was happening, and to stay right here like he had said. But she wasn't stupid enough to go running about blindly in the dark and get herself lost or struck by lightning. That was just asking for it. Minutes passed though, and she began to worry; what was happening over there? Was everyone alright? What could be keeping him? She couldn't hear anything over the screaming wind now, and the rain whipped down so fast it almost stung.
And then, ominously, something groaned behind her. Not the groan of an animal or a person, but the deep, slow, wrenching groan of wood breaking. She spun, seeing the tree begin to sway and splinter under the weight of the storm, and hearing a sudden, shattering crack. Horrified, she bolted out of the way and felt the ground shudder beneath her when it fell. She slid to the ground against the trunk of another tree and panted, looking at the dark form lying across where she had just been.
The skies thundered and she jumped up again, ready to skitter away at the slightest sound. The wind picked up too, building into a steady roar, and she decided that maybe she had better get away from the trees. Now.
Clutching the blanket to her like it was something sacred, she made her way through the dark towards where she had last heard the others--but the rain only grew louder the closer she got, drowning out all sounds to guide her. It grew louder than rain should have been able to, in fact, and it shifted from the steady patter of water on leaves to a constant rushing..
The river.
"Oh no," Kagome said to herself and stopped right where she stood--because in the same moment that she identified the sound of the river, she had reached the end of the trees. Which could only mean she had reached the bank; and it would be all too easy to slip in the dark and fall into the cold, unforgiving waters. Okay, don't panic, just stay here and wait for White-hair. Don't panic.
She waited for the next flash of lightning so she could see just how close she was. And when it came, she knew what the shouting was about.
The river, swollen from all the recent rain, had flooded its banks. And the far part of the tribe had camped too close to the waters edge; the ground had turned to mud and slid beneath their feet towards the river. Everyone was rushing to move people and supplies out of the way. White-hair had taken charge, as always, and was giving out commands, carrying twice as much as any other Indian. And then the flash ended, and she was in darkness again. But now at least she knew she was close to them.
She knelt down in the mud and leaned against a broken trunk, not daring to move. She was close to the river too, too close. As in, mere feet away. In a normal river she could swim, but this? Might as well tie weights to her legs and make it quick.
With her luck being what it was, she thought miserably, she was staying put. If she walked away she'd probably get turned around in the dark and fall right into it. And the bank was too steep and too slippery right now to climb. No, Kagome definitely wasn't going to tempt fate.
But fate, alas, has a way of being so sadistically cruel sometimes.
For that too steep and too slippery bank was being worn away beneath all too fast by the violent, rushing waters. And after only a short while, she felt the muck beneath her shift slightly. Uncertainly, she got to her feet, her movements wary. Please, please no. In the near-complete darkness, she could see just barely that the waterline had risen again. Perhaps it was time to move after all.
She took a few cautious steps up the incline, breathed a sigh of relief when she could make out the thick net of trees, and let out a shriek for the second time that night when the ground beneath her gave way. Like a miniature mudslide, or an iceberg breaking away, it crumbled and melted into the river. It took her with it so swift and so fluidly that there wasn't so much as a splash.
And so, the shriek was all that White-hair heard.
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Authors note: I know, I know, it sucked. ;-; My lame attempts at humor, and my shamefully obvious maneuver to separate them from the group. Aren't we all just a little curious as to what she inadvertently said though? ^_^ Keeping them in character is quite trying sometimes, especially with their unusual situations/backgrounds..apologies for any lameness. Comments and critiques are more than welcome, and thank you for reading! ^^