Kindred Spirits
An Inu Yasha and Saiyuki fan fiction by Iapetus
Disclaimer: Nah, I don't own either series.
Review responses for this chapter can be found on my Live Journal for January 15. Thank you for reviewing, and if you haven't already, please review!
This chapter is, in spirit, the second half of chapter four. Sorry for the wait, but I hope you enjoy it!
Essential Japanese (only one word this time): Imouto = little sister
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Chapter 5: Retrieve
Silently floating on her giant feather, Kagura looked over the fields for her goal. Naraku had commanded her to bring "an item of the miko's," and he didn't care how she did it.
"Damnit Naraku, that's easier said than done," she cursed to herself. She'd have to go ahead of them and kill the people in the village that they would pass by, so she could put them under her power. Of course, that posed the problem of the dratted half demon's nose. He could smell her a mile away, as long as she was downwind. Shifting the wind so she could get the village quicker would only give her away.
"Then again…" she changed her direction to head towards the Bone Gobbling Well. On Naraku's orders, she had one day tried to travel though when Kagome was on the other side. It hadn't worked – she touched solid ground and saw the same sky above her head. But the "miko" might have left something around there…
Kagura touched down, sent her feather away, and looked at amusement as the sealed well. So, they were going to try to keep demons away from the woman's time. She had heard much later that a mere centipede demon had made it though the boundaries of time and pulled the miko here. If a centipede demon could have done it, why not others? Why couldn't I do it? The logic didn't make any sense.
I wonder how the well's defenses are like now… summoning a small feather; she blew it with her wind to settle on the well. The light object, filled with her youki, immediately caught fire and burnt to a crisp. The seals were not ordinary seals; they were the best of their kind. No demon would be able to get in or out with their power burned away from themselves. I'll bet the monk put them on himself…
Carefully keeping her distance, Kagura circled the well, inspecting every inch of the ground. She used the wind to stir the grass, attempting to reveal anything that might be obstructed from her vision. The girl should have dropped something…
Her eye caught a glimpse of white among the green, and knew that she had succeeded. Sending down another feather, Kagura made sure that it was safe to pick up. When she did, she marveled at the item.
It was a thin cylinder close to the length of her hand, with black writing on the side. The writing appeared to be engraved as well. There was a removable black top to the white cylinder, which came to a point. What this object was, Kagura had no idea. She only knew that it was foreign. Whether Naraku would find it to his liking she did not know, but it looked like it could work.
She sighed a breath of relief. Today, at least, she wouldn't have to deal with the idiotic half demon and his companions.
The path he walked had been the same from his childhood dream realm, and was the same as the night before. The grass was green and luscious, a shade one rarely got in the violence-torn world he now lived in.
The temple was across the river from where they always were, and he was reminded strongly of the temple he grew up in. But still, there slight changes to the landscape, and the temple didn't just feel like home. It was almost as if he had walked into a reflection, and was seeing everything backwards of what it really should be.
The woman was at the bank again, this time leaning her back against an ancient looking tree. She was staring out at the water again, a sad smile laid on her face at some unseen memory. She must be calling to me. He didn't understand why she was acting like this. It isn't like her…
He wasn't exactly sure how to go about this. How does one greet someone they had not seen in years? It wasn't simply that, they were kids the last time they had "talked." She was obviously a woman, and if his memory served him right, she was two years his junior.
He raised his eyebrows slightly as his approach was not noted. As a child the girl had always had amazingly sharp senses, being able to find him wherever he hid. He didn't know how she was able to do it, but he had been the same way. Sanzo had never been able to hide from the girl, and he was never able to seem to keep himself from finding her. They had the same kind of power; he could feel it in their chi.
A single tear fell down her smooth cheek, and the woman used the sleeve of her robe to dry her face. Her robes never changed, unlike his. He used to wear the short robes of an apprentice monk, but he now donned his normal attire suitable to his high rank. By the look of her face as she eyed her garments, he could tell that she hated them about as much as he hated his own. Was she pushed into this position like he had been? He had never asked for the title of Sanzo – he had simply wanted a different name than "Kouryuu the river rat."
As she dried her face, she caught the priest in her peripheral vision, and immediately stood up. She looked determined to show him no weakness; despite all those times he had let her (reluctantly) cry on his shoulder as a child. Forcing a smile to her face, he was reminded strongly of the fake smiles Hakkai always seemed to wear. He hoped that she did not have such a past as his friend… then again, wouldn't he have known about it somehow? He also briefly wondered why he was worrying about her so much.
"Hello, Oniisan," she said quietly. As children, they had found that the only way they could address each other was to call themselves something they were not. Sanzo was "Oniisan," and she was "Imouto." "I'm sorry I didn't hear you come." She looked embarrassed, not addressing him by his name. Sanzo felt equally embarrassed that he did not know hers, despite the makeshift names they had come up for each other. But he could tell that she would not ask the question they had both asked last night. He would not either. She was the person that kept him company in his childhood dreams. It was enough of an explanation for now. He had not seen his "little sister" in years. Maybe they could figure out a way to learn more about each other without waking up first…
"It doesn't matter," he said nonchalantly. After all, why should he care about some mysterious girl ignoring him? Yet for some reason he did. Damn the past, he thought to himself.
An uncomfortable silence followed as the girl avoided his eyes. It was painfully obvious to him that she was hiding something. As an alternative, he looked up at the sky. Instead of the intense reds and oranges of sunset, Sanzo could only see blue. There was not a cloud in the sky, or a breeze through the trees. It's so much different than yesterday, he noted.
Attention drifting back to the woman, their gazes locked together. Sanzo never thought he had seen such eyes anywhere before. They were brown – such an ordinary color – yet shown with incredibly intensity and kindness. It was as if the brown were a disguise for what was really going on in her mind.
Yet to him, she was transparent. She could not hide her grief no matter how hard she tried, and even if she wouldn't cry in release of it. She did not cry when she did not mean it, just as he did.
As he continued to study the woman, he noted that her hair was tied back with a white ribbon. Every time he had ever seen her, her hair was down, the ribbon discarded. The woman noticed his shift in attention, and screwed her face up in disgust as she pulled the ribbon out of her hair and let it fall unceremoniously to the ground. Long onyx colored hair fell around her shoulders, offering contrast to the white top of her robes. Her expression softened from the sadness he had seen before, as well as the anger at seeing her hair up.
With a small smile, he took off his crown and set it next to the ribbon on the grass. While he would never disrespect such an object as his master's crown by throwing it, Sanzo had never liked wearing it. He wore it for ceremonial purposes only.
"Why do you never like your hair tied back?" he asked her suspiciously. Curiosity had been getting the better of him, but he decided to hide it under an act.
He noticed how her smile seemed to now carry a small bit of hatred in it. "When I was little, I hated having my hair tied back. I liked the feeling of the wind blowing through it." Her smile had softened slightly before reverting back to the anger. "But I hate having my hair tied back now because it reminds a friend of mine of my past life."
Her past life? Sanzo was shocked. He knew there had to have been people who lived as long as Goku in this world – people who would be able to see the reincarnations of those he had known. He himself grew angry at the thought. A person should not be bound by what he had done in their past life.
"No matter how much he knows that I'm not her, I still look like her. But," she added with a bit of malice, "she doesn't wear her hair like this. And, I never wear miko robes, and she never wears anything else."
She's speaking of this woman in the present tense… "Don't you mean wore," he said correctively. There's no possible way a soul can have two incarnations in the same world at the same time.
"No, she is alive. She is a demon, but she is alive."
A demon? How can that be? Sanzo wondered. Her ki is human. It is unusual like mine is, but it is still human. How could her past self be a demon? How can they co-exist?
There was yet another uncomfortable pause, and Sanzo noted that the woman was collecting her emotions. Did she really hate her past self that much? He was almost overwhelmed with the urge to press for more information. Was the reason she called him to her because of her previous incarnation? One look at her face, and Sanzo could tell that it wasn't the case. No matter how much she hated the woman, it was not the cause of her pain.
"Why did you call me to you?" he asked, bringing the matter to a head. She seemed surprised at the question, almost as if it was the last thing she suspected that he would ask.
"I thought you had called me," she said, confused. "I've been in worse situations than this before, and I never saw you…"
He had been thinking along the same lines. He had never asked to see this girl in his dreams, but whenever something that angered him or saddened him he would find himself there. It wasn't a question of admitting one's feelings, it was a matter of logic. He would not have chosen to be there, but according to the laws of their dreams, he should have been.
"I found you both times," he said defensively. The fact was true; he had sought her out, not the other way around. Not to mention, what did he have to worry about in particular at the moment anyways?
"Sorry, I was… distracted," the woman said with a bit of uncertainty, trying to avoid the topic.
"You were crying."
Anger flared in her eyes, as she appeared ready to shout something, but then stopped herself. Taking a deep breath, she turned to face the river again and sat down on the bank.
Sanzo was not going to leave without an answer. If he had to be here, he might as well be doing something. Coming closer, he walked onto the bank and sat about five feet away from her. He never liked being in close proximity to others, but he had found it an effective tool for intimidation in the past.
The woman would not say anything for several minutes, resolute to stare at the water. He stared at the water with her, not so much as glancing in her direction. Just as he had been wondering if it was possible to "fall awake" from within a dream out of boredom, she spoke.
"I have to leave home for a year, and I might not make it back alive."
The statement shocked the priest. What is she involved with that would have her risk her life? He thought.
"Why is that?" he asked casually, as if it was beyond his concern.
"Because there is no way that we can get anything accomplished if I stick close to the Well- I mean home. We need to be able to travel great distances without me going home every couple weeks."
Well? What is she talking about? "Why would you have to go home every couple weeks?" he asked in an indifferent tone of voice.
"When it first started, I was only fifteen. I was still going to school, and I had to do mammoth amounts of make up work while I was gone. If I left completely, people would have grown suspicious."
This was interesting news. Why was she still going to school at fifteen? Isn't she a priestess? Even if she had to go on a holy mission, I highly doubt that her superiors would swamp her in work like that when she got back.
Then again, if she were truly a member of a temple, she would not have been going to school, but would have been taught by the temple. Not only that, but education in Tougenkyou ended at age thirteen. Trades were to be learned after that, or the wealthy would hire private tutors. No matter what explanation he could come up with, none of it made sense to Sanzo. School should not have been a problem for her at this time. His "little sister" was truly mysterious. I don't understand what she's talking about…
"Oy! Earth to Sanzo!" Gojyo's call had snapped him out of his memory. Silently cursing the water sprite or interrupting his analysis of the dream he had, Sanzo turned his attention to the half demon.
"What?" he asked shortly. The day's memories were returning to him, as well as his short temper. He did not like to be disturbed. He was the one who was the most disappointed at the idea of sharing a room after a long car ride together. And it isn't going to end anytime soon, either…
"Kanzeon Bosatsu wants to speak to you."
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What did Kagura pick up? I wonder if anyone figured out what it was… As yes, I took a bit of artistic license with Tougenkyou's school system. It was never explained in either the anime or manga, because there wasn't a reason to do so…
I am looking for a beta reader to help me out with Kindred Spirits. If you are interested in helping out, please e-mail me (Iapetus_chan@yahoo.com).
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Comments? Criticisms? Let me know them all! I appreciate any and all input! See ya in the next chapter!
-Iapetus