Edited: 7/13/2011
Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha.
Dashed Hopes
Chapter Thirteen: What Have I Done?
Another hard night found Kagome startled awake, a layer of cold sweat coating her shivering body. Her frantic mind scrambled to remember all of her dream, but it was fleeing quickly. Only bits and pieces came back to her: the murders, the jewel, Naraku's voice. She'd dreamt of it several times, but now her memories were distorted in a nightmarish way, reality altered. This time, her mother and grandfather were also there, as well as her high school friend Yuka, Eri, and Ayumi—who she hadn't seen for year, ever since she first started dating Naraku
Her family and friends were warning her, advising her on how to get out of her situation. When Naraku arrived, they surrounded Kagome and took the brunt of his attack. Just before Kagome woke up, she was surrounded by dead bodies lying in a pool of blood, their eyes open and lifeless.
With a dry sob, no tears, Kagome covered her face with her hands and tried to block out the frightening images. Slowly, her heartbeat and breathing went back to a more normal, steady pace, but the final scene remained just behind her eyelids. The shadows throughout the room thrown by the moonlight clawed towards her, making her feel cornered in her own bed.
Quickly, she threw the covers from her body and stumbled to her feet. Within seconds, she was in the hallway, standing nervously in front of Inuyasha's bedroom door. Even with her nerves steeled, Kagome couldn't force herself to go inside. Instead, she pushed herself to keep walking until she came to the bathroom. Opening and shutting the door quietly, she flipped on the light and turned on the shower.
The hot water helped calm her down and wake her up, but it also cleared her mind and made it easier to remember.
She remembered Naraku sitting next to her hospital bed, holding her hand after that very first beating, and him promising her that it would never happen again. She'd promised herself the same thing.
She remembered being in the restaurant a week earlier, Naraku standing behind her and nuzzling her neck as she realized how much his touch disgusted her.
She remembered Kouga's broken and battered face, only concerned about her safety when he should really be worried about his own life.
Four years worth of memories crowded around in her mind, battling it out until they each got a moment of her time. It wasn't just Naraku and his mistakes, but also hers. It was her own fault that she had stuck around as long as she did, that she'd put herself, her brother and her own son in danger. If she had gotten out sooner or if she had found just the right way to fix Naraku, then everything—everyone—would be okay.
"What have I done?" Kagome asked herself in a strangled voice, slumping against the shower wall, feeling the water roll off her in rivulets and circle the drain. Leaning forward, she pounded her fist against the glass door. Her knees buckled, no longer able to support her weight, and she curled up on the floor. "Oh god, what have I done?"
She stayed there until long after the hot water turned cold, until the steady beating of the water lulled her into a tearful sleep.
At three in the morning, Inuyasha woke up. For several minutes, he laid in the dark and stared up at his ceiling, struggling to identify what exactly had pushed him out of sleep. Finally, he recognized the sound of the shower running in the bathroom on the other side of his room. Checking the time on the clock on his nightstand, he got to his feet and lumbered out of his room.
Irritably, he rapped his knuckles on the door to make sure the person was all right. It was Kagome, he knew. She was the only other person with a bedroom in the same hall as his own, and there was no one else in the house he could think of that would be emotionally unstable enough to need a shower at three in the morning.
When no one answered his increasingly urgent knocking, Inuyasha eased the door open. He kept his eyes on the ground, afraid to catch sight of Kagome in a compromising position, one that would make their living situation even more complicated.
"Kagome?" he called, staring at the rug. "Are you okay? Do you need something?"
No one answered.
Deciding to risk it, he slowly lifted his eyes until they were on the steamy glass door of the shower. It was empty.
"Damn it," he grumbled, fully stepping into the room. "No one understands how much water costs. You can't just leave a shower running…" he continued, reaching inside to twist the knobs, cutting the flow of water. It was only then that he caught sight of Kagome curled up on the floor, in the fetal position and sound asleep.
Once again screwing his eyes shut, Inuyasha felt around on the wall until he located a towel, which he promptly draped over her body. He grabbed another and, now certain he could look without seeing anything, wrapped them both more tightly around her. She shivered but stayed asleep, even as he lifted her up.
Of course he was concerned, but mostly he didn't want to know. Inuyasha carried her back into her room and tucked her back into bed, leaving her wrapped in the towels. He then returned to his room and changed into a dry shirt, tossing the partially soaked one into the laundry basket in the corner. It was only as he was drifting off into sleep that Inuyasha thought about how perfectly she seemed to fit in his arms.
The following morning, Souta was the first one to notice that Kagome—normally one of the first people to wake up and stumble into the kitchen—was nowhere in sight. "Hey, where's Kagome?" he asked, setting down his spoon back into his cereal bowl.
He and Shippou had made sure to get up early and dress immediately; Kagome had promised to take them to work with her instead of dropping them off at Sango's with Kohaku. Now, she wasn't even there.
Inuyasha shrugged uncomfortably, trying to forget the odd scene he had encountered in the middle of the night. It didn't seem right to worry the children about how weirdly Kagome was acting.
Shippou, who'd left to investigate, came running into the kitchen, his eyes wide and frantic. "Souta! Souta!"
"What? What's wrong?"
"It's Kagome," Shippou stammered, clinging to his uncle's leg. All movement in the kitchen stopped as everyone turned to stare at the little redheaded boy.
"What about her?" Souta asked, frowning. Looking as worried as he did, he seemed years
Shippou twisted his hands nervously, tears brimming in his eyes. "She doesn't look so good. She's pale and shouting, but she won't wake up!"
Swiftly, both Youkai brothers walked from the room and arrived at her doorway. To be polite, they knocked; when there was no response, Sesshoumaru opened the door and walked in first.
"Ms. Higurashi?" She didn't answer. "Kagome?"
It was obvious when he studied her that something was clearly wrong. She was far paler than normal, and her inky dark hair made her look almost white. Her lips were chapped and bleeding, and her damp hands twisted the sheets as though she was gripped by a nightmare.
"Well?" Inuyasha prompted from the doorway.
"Call that friend of yours, the woman," Sesshoumaru ordered in his no-nonsense voice.
Inuyasha fumbled for his cell phone and immediately called Sango. His conversation, one-sided to half-brother, went like this: "Hey, Sango, it's me… I don't know… Well, she's not in the best of shape at the moment, that's why I said I don't know… If I knew why she looked like crap, I wouldn't be calling you, now would I? … No, I think we need Kaede; isn't she a part-time nurse? … Sure… Thanks; bye."
An hour later, everyone was waiting out in the hallway while Kaede finished examining Kagome in the bedroom. When the old woman appeared in the doorway looking grim, the other crowded around her.
"I don't know why she is sick," Sango's nanny announced bleakly. "Her fever is very high."
Kaede, Sango, Sesshoumaru, and the children retired to the living room to further discuss the problem away from Kagome, but Inuyasha wandered back into her bedroom. He dragged the armchair over to her bedside and collapsed in it, studying her pale, sweaty face.
"You didn't seem like someone who got sick easily," he told her, almost conversationally. Inuyasha was surprised to find just how worried he was. Then again, he reminded himself, Kagome was not only his employee and his housemate, but he was also to see the young woman as a friend. It was difficult not to after spending so much time with one another for two weeks. It was even harder not to like her, admire her even, after seeing her in such a vulnerable position and keeping fighting despite it.
Inuyasha was startled when Kagome, still sleeping, whipped her head in his direction and snarled, "Shut up."
"Okay," he replied slowly, reaching out to touch her forehead. She whimpered at the contact and flinched away; her skin was burning hot.
"It's my fault, Naraku," the girl continued in another outburst, her voice hoarse but firm. "It's always been my fault."
He couldn't help himself. Inuyasha leaned closer and whispered, "I don't think so."
A beat passed before Kagome's expression screwed itself tighter, angry. "You can't have it!" It was something he had heard her say before during that other night. This time, however, she continued. "It's not even yours. Why'd you do it, Naraku? We could have been happy."
Listening to her fever-induced speech, Inuyasha felt only a little guilty. It was like reading someone's diary. "What did Naraku do, Kagome?" he pushed in a very quiet voice. The answer he received was surprising and incited a shiver down his spine.
"All that blood. Why, Naraku?" she whispered, her voice finally growing softer as she rolled over to face Inuyasha. "So much blood, all over. The floor, the walls, you."
Finally feeling like he might be understanding things better, Inuyasha leaned in closer. "Whose blood?" he urged.
Kagome frowned, as if trying to remember a far-off dream. "The men," she answered, delirious in her fever-induced sleep. Her voice sounded foggier and real thick. "Hiten and Ma…"
Inuyasha frowned. He expected her to say it was her blood, or even Naraku's, if she'd ever had the courage to hit back. With a dawning horror, Inuyasha realized that it now sounded like there was more to it than an abusive relationship and some stolen property. "Murder?" Inuyasha whispered.
Kagome nodded furiously; her cheeks were bright red. "Yes. Dead before they hit the floor."
"How?"
Kagome bit her dry, split lip, and it started to bead with blood again. Even in her sleep, she was choosing to trust Inuyasha. "A gun."
"Who?"
"Naraku." That didn't surprise him, but the next part did. "And me."
After that, no matter how much Inuyasha urged, Kagome kept her mouth shut. Feeling like he'd been hit by a truck, Inuyasha shoved back the armchair and crept from the room. He walked into the living room, and everyone turned to face him. While he was in the room with Kagome, Miroku had arrived.
"I need to talk to you," he told his best friend, sounding very serious as he jerked his thumb in the direction of Sesshoumaru's office. To the others' confusion, Inuyasha led Miroku out of the room. Once the two men were alone, Inuyasha explained the entire conversation with Kagome as well as he could recall it.
Silence stretched between them for several minutes as Miroku let Inuyasha's words sink in.
"Do you think she helped with the murder?" Inuyasha finally asked; he ran a hand through his hair, indicating his frustration.
Miroku struggled to stay calm and practical. "Perhaps," he said. "We don't know Kagome well enough to know if she would help with murder. Naraku may have forced her, or she might have done it on her own."
Stubbornly, Inuyasha shook his head. "I don't believe it," he growled.
Miroku was taken aback by his friend's determination on the matter, his absolute certainty. However, once he examined his own feelings, Miroku also found himself doubting Kagome as a murderess.
"You're right. You must have misunderstood," Miroku said gently. "Don't forget that she was feverish, not to mention asleep, during this entire conversation of yours."
They were interrupted when Sango popped her head into the office, looking at her best friends suspiciously. Instead of asking them what they were talking about, she told them, "Kaede thinks Kagome's body is just under so much stress that she contracted the first illness she came in contact with. It's probably just the flu, but it seems so much worse because her immune system is so compromised right now."
Inuyasha sighed in relief.
Late into the night, Kagome continued to toss and turn in restlessness.
"My fault," she whispered over and over again.
Her feverish brain kept replaying the murder, showing her the bloody bodies, the lifeless eyes, the gaping gunshot wounds. In her dream, she was covered in blood splatter. Their eyes, their empty and lifeless eyes, glared at her in anger and betrayal. If she had never shown up that day or if she'd just kept her mouth shut, Naraku might have let them live. It was her fault; she could have stopped it. If nothing else, she could have knocked the gun from Naraku's hand or jumped in front of them like a human shield.
It wasn't just Naraku's fault. It was hers, too.
"What have I done?" she whispered in her sleep, thinking about their faces. "What have I done?"
The man sitting at her bedside, sitting sleepless in an armchair, didn't have an answer for her.
Staying quiet wasn't one of his strong points, so Inuyasha scrambled to find something to say to soothe her. "You saved Souta and Shippou," he told the distraught woman, reached out and smoothing her bangs from her sweaty forehead. He stroked her cheek with a callused thumb. "You're amazing at your job. You brighten up people's lives."
Twisted in her sheets, tears streaking down her face, Kagome looked so delicate and vulnerable; it sparked in him a fierce desire to make her feel safe and protected. She was his friend. He felt was Sango and Miroku must have felt immediately upon meeting her. It had just taken Inuyasha a little longer.
It would have to be enough.
Her breath started to slow down and her eyebrows unknitted themselves and Kagome left the blood soaked room, spurred on by Inuyasha's words of encouragement, and started to dream.
"Hey sweetie," her mom called from the kitchen.
"Hi, Mom!"Kagome greeted cheerfully as she entered the sweet-smelling kitchen. She dropped of her oversized, heavily stuffed yellow backpack on the table. "That smells great," she told Mrs. Higurashi with a grin, sniffing the air. She skipped over and peered around her mother's shoulder at the pot sitting on the stove; inside was her favorite food. "Yes! Oden! You're the best."
Mrs. Higurashi laughed joyfully, wiping her hands on the front of her apron. "How'd your math test go, sweetie?"
With a dramatic sigh, teenaged Kagome collapsed on a kitchen chair. "Okay, I guess. I hate math," she admitted with a wince. Her mother only chuckled.
"Ah, hello there, my dearest granddaughter," Kagome's grandfather greeted as he wandered in from the yard. He had been tending the shrine all day. Souta was at his heels, grinning boyishly at his family, seeming very young.
"Hi, guys," Kagome answered with a grin, ruffling her little brother's hair as he passed her.
Kagome glanced down at her school uniform and decided it was time to change; she'd been in her very short, pleated green skirt and white blouse all day. She longed to get into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. As she pushed away from the table to go to her room, a plump Buyo followed in her wake.
She'd barely left the kitchen when she heard her mother scream. Immediately, Kagome raced back inside, only to find Mrs. Higurashi slumped on the ground. Her grandfather was standing protectively over the body, but he looked frail.
Naraku was standing there with a gun, grinning wickedly. His dark face seemed distorted.
"Get out of our house!" Kagome's grandfather shouted, but a crack sounded at he fell to the floor in a heap.
Terrified, Souta tried to run out the door to the yard and escape, but the gun went off again. The little boy tumbled to the grass mid-stride, blood blossoming on the back of his school shirt.
"You bastard!" Kagome shrieked at Naraku, racing past him and towards Souta, as though to check on him. She knew he was already dead.
The moment she was outside, Kagome realized she was holding a bow and arrow in her hands. She notched the arrow and raised it, pointing at Naraku—who just stood there, grinning at her. As steadily as she could, remembering learning archery in school, Kagome aimed at his heart and let the arrow fly. It whistled through the air and struck Naraku in the chest, but suddenly it wasn't him anymore.
Instead, it was Inuyasha.
He didn't look quite right. In her dream state, Kagome saw him as silver-haired and golden-eyed—like a hero from a fairytale.
The arrow pinned him at the base of the sacred tree.
Stunned, Kagome dropped the weapon to the ground and let her tears flow unchecked. She fell to her knees and crawled forward, not understanding. As she watched, Inuyasha transformed back into the man she knew, one with black hair and dark eyes. His face was very still.
"Kagome," he whispered, his eyes closing.
She sobbed, knowing it was all her fault.
Inuyasha was gone forever.
"No!" Kagome screamed, sitting straight up in bed and clawing at the sheets around her.
Inuyasha snapped away, springing up from the armchair. He murmured soothingly to her, but she started to sob until he wrapped his arms around her; she quieted, but continued to cry, feeling like every moment in his arms was another step towards hurting him.
She knew what the dream meant. She knew.
To fix Naraku's mess, Kagome could end up betraying her new friends.
She would end up betraying Inuyasha.
And she no longer felt that that could be helped.
Next Chapter: Breakdown
