Through A Mirror Darkly
I live in shades of black and white.
I am drawn to the dark...
I rise to the lure of the lights.
I am seduced by the pulsating,
Pounding sounds that spell danger.
I am in constant conflict.
I am touched by the sweet,
The good, the kind.
I am passionate about the dark,
The tumultuous.
I am ripped apart...torn in two by
The battles I fight within my heart.
- from 'The Myth of Red' Sasha Lazard
Chapter 1- WonderlanD
It was a most extraordinary place, the river of time that cascaded through the portal between eras. Energies floated and turned before Kagome's eyes as she drowned in the sea of the centuries, sinking downward and through, falling deeper into the well and awaiting the contact of her feet against the smooth dirt floor of the Bone Eater's well of the past. Though tumbling into it, she chased no white rabbits, but instead a destiny that she was shaping with her own hands, with the help of those friends who were kind and loyal towards her. Seeing those faces was reassuring, and it made her feel stronger.
The passage through time usually felt warm, welcoming, enveloping her and encouraging her to return, to come back, to stay in the wonderland she had been forced to discover, dragged there by a many armed youkai, who was now little more than a vague memory. The centipede was history now, long gone, and had it not been the creature that dragged Kagome back, it would have been forgotten as merely another random attacker in a greater quest.
Shikon no Tama.
Down, descending, Kagome clutched it in her hands, the little bottle with the few tiny slivers their group had managed to collect...and keep. Such a large portion Naraku now held; his powers were growing, and his influence lay upon the land darkly. Had he never held any of it, life would have been much simpler. The other youkai they had faced holding the pieces were of less power and relevance. Though often causing fights, they always managed to come through somehow. It was Naraku that caused the problems, and all things ended up cycling back to him. Find Naraku, kill Naraku, take the shards, and then...do something. The happily ever after was supposed to come, or at least something along those lines. Though there were times Kagome felt fear, not really knowing how her ending would be. Would she live in the past, with her friends, and live as Kagome, the one who protected the Shikon no Tama? A Kagome who was surely by then to be considered a miko? The Kagome who loved a hanyou? Or would she live in the future with her family, remaining a daughter in that shrine family, only known as Higurashi Kagome?
A slight chill caressed the back of her neck, reaching the skin that was normally warmed from the thick curtain of her dark hair. The magics that eddied and swirled around her in the stream of time were a startide rising, rushing her in the direction that they wished. Time was a lucid thing, changing and sweeping in new directions as it best see fit, paying only passing heed to the spinning of the Fates. After all, the threads of people's lives made an intricate tapestry when they met, and there were many ways to work a loom.
Those few crystal silvers of the heart of Midoriko rang in the silence, glowing within their bottle as Kagome's feet touched the surface of the earth, then dimming into their usual opaque clarity.
Kagome sighed and adjusted the straps of the oversized yellow rucksack on her back. She'd weighed it down too much again, taking along an extra book on remedial geometry. Buying it on her way home had made her cheeks burn with embarrassment; handing the money to the clerk had felt like she was accepting her failure, and though it also showed her resolution to improve, it still weighed heavily on her shoulders. Succeed in the sengoku jidai, fail in the modern era. It really wasn't fair. Teachers should give extra credit to students living a double life. She wondered if this was how superheroes felt. The ridiculous mental image of herself in spandex and a cape made her laugh for a moment, shaking her head. Yes, she could be Super Miko, defeater of all youkai! Sango-chan could be the Taiji-ya, her trusty sidekick, and Inuyasha some mysterious, dashing, not-quite-villain who always helped her out in the end. Well, okay, maybe not dashing...
The image of Inuyasha in superhero spandex seemed even more ridiculous, and it made her chuckle again, shaking her head and trying to remember that she needed to get a bit more serious now.
Her voice echoed up the well hopefully. "Inuyasha?"
The name vibrated off the stone walls, and she waited a moment before grasping the heavy vines that dangled down to the well's bottom, hauling herself upward slowly, the weight of her pack dragging her down. She was a little late...she'd promised to arrive that morning, and it was already past noon. Buying the geometry tutorial and getting packed took longer than she expected, allowing herself to dally in the future's safety. Tossing her bag over the side first, she squirmed over the wooden ledge, landing in a crouch and brushing herself off as she stood up and reset the baggage on her back.
The clearing around the well was empty. She sighed, first in relief and then in disappointment. A couple hours of tardiness usually brought Inuyasha sniffing around the well, and it would have been helpful if he had arrived to carry her pack for her. He tossed it around like it was nothing. Must be nice to be that strong. Still, it was only a couple hours, and there really was no rule stating that she had to be greeted by an annoyed looking hanyou every time she passed through a little late. Who knew? Maybe the others found some clue to another shard, or something came up...hopefully nothing bad.
Kagome lengthened her stride as a little bit of worry set in. If they had just headed off to follow a lead, that was fine...there really was no rule stating that they had to just sit around and wait for her to return before trotting off into mortal peril. Though if someone was hurt, that was entirely different, and she wanted to get to the village to find out what was going on. Maybe she was just overreacting. Worrying too much. Doing badly on a test had her nitpicking over nothing. Everything seemed fine, after all. The trees of the forest were still lush and evergreen, leaves turned out sharply, though a bit less bright than usual, the sky being overcast and clouded, the color of polished steel.
So too were the rice paddies, laid out in their network of grids, reflecting the cloudy sky, backlit by the sun, shrouding its warmth and giving the air the slightest of chills, though the air lacked any humidity. Wind danced across the broad patches of water, forming small ripples that faded away into the edges of their pools. The path to the village was damp beneath Kagome's feet, clods of still slightly soft brown dirt the remaining evidence of an earlier rain.
The air was so clear here. No smog or industrial smells, no gas exhaust or the odor of garbage, a thousand little unpleasant odors that she ignored in the future, blocking them out. Here, it was different, the air was crisp and scented lightly with plants and water from the fields. The difference was striking when she paid attention to it. Pure. The weeds that sprang up alongside the paddies seemed to add to their charm, yellow dandelions peppering her path. Even patches of blue irises bloomed in the deeper corners, their roots digging deep into the mud and clinging. At home, the dandelions in sidewalks and streets would be crushed, pulled, or poisoned with weedkiller, and the irises collected for some fanciful floral arrangement.
Time could create quite a difference in a place.
It was then she realized how quiet it was. Not just normal quiet, filled with insects clattering and birds chirping or flitting through the rickety branches of trees. Those sounds were gone, vanished into the air they existed in. Instead, muted sounds of people were catching on the faint breeze, carried to her ears the way a particular scent was.
Smoke.
Kagome hesitated for a moment, eyes sweeping upward across the hillock leading to the village and searching out the source of the smell. It wasn't strong, and the wind was light enough not to carry the burning scent to her quickly. Somewhere, amid the ambling huts and shacks of the village, three thin pillars of smoke rose, columns fading into the steely sky and vanishing into heavenly oblivion.
Picking up her pace again, she looked towards her usual destination, hesitating a moment when she realized it was not there. Moving, this time breaking into a light run, a confused feeling began to swell up inside her, puzzled at the absence of Kaede's hut on the edge of town. The slope leading up towards the village was there, she was following the right path, same as always, but the hut was not where it was supposed to be.
No fence hemmed in the elderly lady's space, no garden was laid out full of healing herbs. No darkening or depression of the ground where the wooden floor would have touched.
Kagome bit her lip and glanced again up the hill. The acrid scent was stronger since she was closer, and from there she could see women running about through the gaps in the houses, scurrying back and forth like mice. She looked back at the empty space. If Kaede-baachan's hut was gone, where was she? In the village?
She began to run up the steps on the hill, ignoring the way her rucksack banged jarringly against her backside, pushing herself a bit more and going up the steps two at a time, reaching the top and rushing forward to look around.
The scene that greeted her made her blood run cold.
Men lay on mats across the soft earth, scattered in small rows where women were tending them, stooped and cleaning wounds, or moving from one group to the next with pails of water or bandages. Soft sounds of moaning rose into the air, mingling with the pillars of smoke and drifting away. Those that had been cared for showed heavy dressings, strips of cloth wrapped over good portions of their bodies, as though their attackers had been considerably larger than they.
The word escaped Kagome's lips breathlessly. "Youkai...?"
Creaking interrupted her thoughts, and a pair of healthy men ran towards the other side of the village, where a cart was rolling to a stop, a weary horse hanging its head to the ground as its load was slowly removed. Several women left their positions and began to help haul the other men down, these more battered than the group already spread outside the homes. A few had field dressings, though staccato screams came from those who were more badly injured, while dirty, festering wounds broke open when their positions were disturbed. Ragged, they were collapsing to the ground despite the helping hands uplifting them.
Kagome began to recoil from the sight on instinct, edging back a step and holding her hand over her nose and mouth as horror began to turn her stomach. She had seen these signs before; the bloody injuries, the heavy casualties, the uneven, jagged slashes across the chests and legs and arms of the men. She had seen them at Sango's village, and other places that had been attacked by many youkai, acting in cohesion. Had Naraku sent them? No, no, it couldn't be, something wasn't right. The village itself...the houses, the houses were all intact. The village couldn't be the target. Nothing was on fire, nothing was destroyed. Just people. Faces she didn't know. Many of them. Was there an attack somewhere else then? Were they being brought here? Of course, the cart. They were being carted in and tended to. Then Kaede must be around somewhere helping them. Shippou was probably with her. Sango-chan and Miroku-sama would be around too, though Inuyasha was likely to be running around the village...that was where he was, instead of sniffing around the well, waiting impatiently.
She made a fist out of her raised hand, steeling to help. Over the last few months, she'd been learning quite a bit about taking care of the injured while traveling. Listening to Kaede while they were in the village was also enlightening, adding understanding to all the wild flora she passed in various journeys. A more determined look settled across her features, eyes sharpening as she started moving forward, searching for one of her friends for some update on what had happened, and for finding out where she should start.
Why weren't there any guards up? That made no sense. A couple of the villagers were toting farming equipment, rakes and hoes, but those were hardly enough to defend if a youkai did follow the injured back here. Where were the archers? They were usually more organized than this, since Kaede was getting too old to fight off every single youkai that decided it wanted to come around. Her lips drew into a thin line, the corners downturned. Where was everyone? These people couldn't all be from another village. She turned around a bit, scanning for familiar faces among the crowd. The healthy looked too busy to acknowledge the presence of the schoolgirl, and the ailing stared up at her with glazed eyes.
"Sango-chan!" Kagome called, picking her way quickly around a line of mats, causing a couple heads to lift. She smiled weakly and nodded politely in acknowledgment at one woman, whose eyes widened as she moved past. "Miroku-sama?" She turned again, following the scent of smoke. The largest of the three fires came into her sight as she rounded a corner, trying to ignore the few stares she was earning with her shouts. Just as she thought they were getting used to her clothes, too. She lifted her head up again and began to call out another name, but the word died in her throat as she saw her first familiar face, one eerily reminiscent of her own.
"Kikyou?"
The miko was bent beside one of the fallen, her cherry colored hakama pooling around her lap, earth clinging to its loose hem. Her movements were precise and orderly, fingers flying as she attempted to remove and redress the bandages that were so thickly wound around the struggling man's side. A heavy smock covered her, greyed from wear and showing fresh blood and grit smears, though her flowing sleeves remained white, bundled back with thick cord to keep them from her way.
As the word fell from Kagome's lips, Kikyou's head lifted as though she heard her name called, searching for the source. Pale blue eyes met pale blue eyes, and Kikyou's brows drew down hard as she scanned the girl across from her.
"You! Come here!"
The words lashed out in a healer's command, and Kagome started at the tone, reacting to the authority and the situation, only hesitating again a moment later when she reminded herself who was summoning her.
A wildness showed in Kagome's eyes as she tried to decide what to do. Kikyou, here, in the town, helping the villagers? Why? Since when? Where was Kaede-baachan? For that matter, where were the shinidama-chuu? The insectile youkai should have been hovering around such a scene if Kikyou were here, collecting the souls of those who were less fortunate, dying from their wounds. This scene, of Kikyou nearly wrestling down a full grown man amid the casualties of an attack, seemed out of place, a piece of puzzle that did not fit.
"Quickly!" Kikyou's voice cracked again, as her attention snapped back to the man, now thrashing against her, eyes bulging as his arms flailed, choking noises burbling from his throat instead of screams.
Kagome moved before she gave it more thought, shedding her rucksack into the soft ground with a thud, and kneeling on the man's other side, grabbing at his arms and applying what strength she had to restrain him. He nearly succeeded in throwing her off when Kikyou stopped for a moment to grab a cloth from a sack beside her, quickly saturating it in liquid, then covering the man's nose and mouth. Breathing in air through the damp cloth, he stiffened and froze, his body then crumpling and he lay still. "Hold this there, carefully," Kikyou instructed, and when Kagome hesitated again at her order, she grabbed the schoolgirl's wrist and placed her hand over the cloth. "The ether will keep him quiet while I change the dressing. Hold it there, or he'll struggle again and make it worse."
The cloth felt slightly oily under Kagome's smooth fingers, tensing, though she reminded herself not to press too hard and accidentally smother him. His eyes were closed tightly, wincing unconsciously at the pain that graced his chest. That face, though, bothered her less than the determined one that was frowning down at the ragged lips of the wound. Kikyou ignored Kagome's gaze as she worked, moving back and forth between her bag of remedies and the injury. The claw that had sunk into the man had scraped at least three dirty nails across his flesh, and whoever had laid the field dressing either had not understood the concept of cleaning the wound first, or did not have the capability to do so. It was not yet festering, though the sides were a foul color, and the wound was deep. Painful. She glanced at the pail of water beside her, blood and dirt already turning the clear liquid a murky shade. Water, yes, fresh water first.
Kagome was startled out of her thoughts when Kikyou lifted her head again, eyes searching, finally settling on a group of huddled women. "Kaede!"
Her heart leapt for a moment, glad to hear the familiar name, though confused as to why Kikyou would be shouting for an old woman to run over to her side, to fetch whatever it was the miko seemed to need now. Arrogance? Kagome watched the group worriedly, but none of the women moved aside for an elderly lady to emerge. Instead, a little girl wriggled out of the group, ran three steps forward and stopped as Kikyou made a motion with her hand at the ground beside her, then at the man. The girl nodded quickly, then bolted across the clear space of the road, understanding the silent language. She grabbed up a bucket and filled it with clear water from a trough, scurrying over without sloshing out any of her cargo. Sliding to a stop, she handed over the water as she knelt down, arms outstretched.
"Here, Kikyou-oneesama."
Here, Kikyou-oneesama.
"Arigatou, Kaede. Is the water low yet?"
"No, but it will be soon."
"Tell Maiko and Sawato to refill it. They're hiding in their grandmother's house, aren't they?"
"They don't like the blood much..." the girl demurred, looking away, trying not to fidget under a moment of scrutiny. Her eyes fell onto the wounds of the man, and though her eyes widened at the sight, she did not look away, though she did grow pale under her child's warm tan. Those same eyes slipped over to the curiously attired girl who was staring at her with such an alarmed look, and the girl wondered if the other had never seen the casualties of war.
"They don't have to be by it 'much' if they're hauling buckets from the river and refilling." Kikyou replied curtly. "They're not hurt, we need help, you get them moving."
Kagome watched as Kaede's lips drew thin, but she stood obediently and headed off at a run towards the other end of the village.
Here, Kikyou-oneesama.
"Are you well, girl?" Kikyou's voice inquired, still sharp, though with a faint note of distraction as she produced another cloth, now submerging it in the new, cleaner water, and began to swipe away at the edges of the wound. "You do not seem injured. Were you attacked on your way here as well?"
Kagome sat silently, her hand still holding the anesthetic over the man's mouth, keeping him incapacitated. She struggled to think of words to say, as she tried to comprehend the exchange she witnessed. So casual, though so important.
"K...Kikyou?"
"Yes?" She glanced up for a moment to see the stranger openly staring at her with wide eyes. A slight frown twitched on her lips and she returned her attention to her patient. "I am the miko of this village. That was my younger sister, Kaede, a moment ago." Her hands flew from the man's side to her bag, pulling out packets of herbs and remedies that Kagome could not identify, so quickly they were chosen and replaced, mixed into a paste and then applied. At Kagome's continued silence, the miko's eyes flicked back up again to consider her for a moment, puzzling over why the girl seemed to be attempting to control panic.
"Ka..Kagome. My name. My name is Kagome..." she managed to stutter after a moment, looking at Kikyou's face and then after the retreated form of Kaede. Young. Kaede was young, her face smooth and unlike a withered apple. She did not wear the clothing of a miko, she did not have a patch over one of her brown eyes, and she did not have long grey hair tied back and trailing behind her. She was small and moved easily, not crooked like a branch and as stiff.
Kikyou's hand, when she had grabbed her wrist...her hand had been warm, firm and callused from work, but warm and alive. Kikyou was not supposed to be alive. She was supposed to be cold and timeless, hard like a statue and with as many emotions.
"You're a traveler?"
"Eh?" Kagome looked at Kikyou again, who had returned her attentions to her patient. "Ah, yes...yes, and I need...I need to go back..."
The well. The well would take her back. It always did. She would hop down into the well again, emerge out the other side and be home again. Home would be safe. Home. Home, yes, home, where she was supposed to be. Not this far in the past, not when Kaede-baachan was a little girl and Kikyou was alive and without her shinidama-chuu. This wasn't her time. This wasn't either of her times! What happened? Why was she here? Why was she brought here? What was here? What was happening? Why? Why?
"If you could wait until tomorrow to return to your journey, we could use your help," Kikyou told her, leaning back and picking up a wad of makeshift bandages, the cloth patterned with bright red flowers, the remains of someone's kimono. "Any help you could provide would be beneficial to the village. Help me set him up so I can cinch this around his waist."
Kagome blinked at the sudden turn to practicality in the same phrase, though perhaps from Kikyou's perspective, it was did not seem so abrupt. She needed help, both around the village and with this particular man. The desire to run back to the well warred with the fact she was finding herself propping up the man in her arms, letting the cloth fall from her fingers to the ground. She could feel him shuddering in the cool breeze now beginning to pick up, and though he seemed like one accustomed to hard travel, he was weak from his injury and needed care and aid. The village women were bunched around several spreads of mats and men, and another cart was now joining the first, piled more lightly, though with enough men to keep one set of hands at hard work for a very, very long time.
Kagome felt herself shiver as well.
What was right? Leave or go? Run or help?
Here, Kikyou-oneesama.
"I'll help you."
Her hands were creased with dirt. Usually well filed, her tapered fingernails were rimmed with dirt and blood and grime. The fine lines that ran across her palms were smeared with bits of dried filth of unknown origin. Flexing her fingers, it felt like her skin would crack from dryness and dirty casing. Kagome had washed them a dozen times over the course of the afternoon and evening, trying to keep them sterile enough to touch her often reluctant patients. It was night now, the very last strands of red sunlight dying away into the west, letting the pale scimitar of the moon slice whitely through the clouds. That white light was added to by several torches, being posted around the village in addition to the few small bonfires that were established earlier in the day. Starlight was shrouded by dark clouds. Shadows leapt between the houses and the sleepers on the ground. They nearly hid Kagome as well, and if Kikyou's eyes were not so sharp, they nearly would have missed the strangely dressed girl, standing at the corner of a house, a large yellow rucksack at her feet, quietly staring at her hands.
Over the course of the day, Kikyou saw to it that the girl...Kagome, she claimed her name was...was given a smock to cover her clothes. Still, the dirt clearly bothered her. It clung and took more than a handwashing to remove. She had worked hard throughout the day, slightly nervous and jumpy, and at times, uncertain what to do. Though the knowledge was there. At least, in part. She had training, and though originally Kikyou suspected that the girl had never seen youkai wounds before, she admitted she was wrong, after watching her awhile longer. It wasn't the wounds, the scars, the blood...it was not disdain or disgust or simple fear. There was something else clouding her eyes, something strange and elusive.
And then there was her aura. It was warm and expansive, iridescent and glowing as softly and strongly as a bright full moon. Looking at her, Kikyou felt like she was looking in a mirror, a mirror that dimly reflected a younger version of herself, happier, more pleasant, though at the moment cast with an empty expression, as though lost.
"You're hungry by now, or should I not ask?"
Kagome's head snapped up to see Kikyou standing there, idly wiping her hands on her own stained apron. Though the older woman did not smile, an eyebrow was lifted inquisitively, with the faintest hint of humor to it, the caustic humor of one colleague to another, after a laborious day of work. Kagome, though, could not find the strength of heart to smile back. She merely looked at her hands again, now resisting the urge to wipe them on her smock the way Kikyou was.
The miko nodded slightly, accepting the silence and understanding a reluctance to speak, at least. "I assume you came from the opposite direction as the attack," Kikyou began, watching Kagome's face carefully for her reactions. There was a slight twist of her lips, and she folded her hands together, finally giving in to scratching at her apron with her palms, a vain attempt to clean them. "The injured were mostly from the next village, a few leagues from here. What set off the youkai, no one seems to know."
Kagome's eyes flicked up, and there was the slightest hint of suspicion reflected there before they were again clouded by doubt.
"Some of them though," Kikyou slid her eyes towards one of the nearer rows of pallets, "were an unknown traveling group. Bandits, or army deserters, most likely."
A faint nod.
"Thank you, for your help."
At those words, her head snapped up, eyes wide and mouth falling open, before she was able to hastily close herself off again. Curious, Kikyou found herself wondering why the most expansive reaction was to the simplest set of words. No worry over loved ones, if she was traveling to a nearby place. No anger over the destruction of the other village. No concern for her own safety, no wondering if other bandits may be around.
Thank you. As though she never expected those words fall from the lips of the miko. Very strange, and very curious. Why would a small display of kindness surprise her so?
"Kagome, it is late, and Kaede and I were about to return home. Since you are also a miko, it would be most fitting for you to stay with us." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "You are a miko, are you not?"
Kagome fidgeted for a moment, reluctance warring with the desire to get away from the encampment of the wounded, get away from the groaning and the muttering and the dirt. Away from the fire stench and the smoke. To sleep on a futon, a clean futon, with a blanket, and curl up and try to forget when she was and to feel a little safe. Safe, though was what she worried about, looking at the face of the woman inviting her to share a roof for the night. If this was her time, if this was her past, the idea would be out of the question. But this was not her time, and this was not the Kikyou who was her enemy and rival. What to say? How much truth to tell? Accept the offer or decline? Try to run home? If she did, then would Kikyou discover the secret of the well, and if so...if so, what then? Perhaps it would be best, to rise early in the morning, and slip away with the dawn.
"I...I'm in training," Kagome managed after a moment, feeling a bit better to state that fact. And it was true, perhaps not officially, but she was training, with Kaede, and on the trail. "I'm still learning, so sometimes I'm not sure what I'm doing. But I am learning."
Kikyou nodded, sensing the truth in the statement, and turning slightly to leave. "Kaede's probably waiting at the edge of town. We don't have much to offer by way of food, but you're welcome to share before sleep." Kagome again hesitated, looking torn between moving forward and bolting, and Kikyou found herself frowning again, not understanding why the girl was so reluctant around her, especially if she was also a miko. Reputation again, she supposed, and wondered if the girl knew who she was in that manner. Still, Kagome seemed like she was from very far away. Pieces of a puzzle that did not fit. "It's this way," she added, her voice snapping Kagome from her indecision and moving her forward, snatching up her yellow sack and clinging to it, pressing it close to her and wrapping her arms around it as though seeking comfort.
Welcome, everyone, to my new fic, Kagome Torture. ::cough:: Whoops, did I say that out loud? Eh heh...I mean, Through A Mirror Darkly.
Though this really is a Kagome fic. Not precisely an Inuyasha and Kagome fic, but a Kagome fic, nonetheless. Very unfortunately, characters who were not alive in Kikyou's sengoku jidai will not be in here...alas, no Sango, Miroku and Shippou. Shippou is safely here with me in the PG zone...sooo...::sends Sango and Miroku off to hug somewhere else::
Miroku: hug
Sango: blush
Miroku: rub rub
Sango: smack
Don't worry, I'm working on a fic with lots of these two even as this gets posted. ^.~
Miroku: grins
Sango: "..."
Still, there are quite a few gaps in the information given with the past. Mostly details that made this fic tricky to write. I hope I've been able to bridge them, and to make everything fit together. If you see anything glaringly wrong, please do let me know, either by email or by review.
This chapter's music- Only When I Lose Myself, by Depeche Mode, and the Inuyasha OST 1.
As is true for all chapters of this fic...Inuyasha does not belong to me. He belongs to Kagome. And Rumiko Takahashi-sensei, of course, since she created them in the first place. Please do not sue me, I'm just another poor otaku. ^.~
Riddle of the Day: If you were Kagome, stuck 50 years too early and couldn't go home, would you stay with Kikyou?
Til chapter 2, 'The Looking Glass'
~Queen
