Disclaimer- Read this and please memorize the following: I do not, I repeat, not own the series Inuyasha nor any characters in it. Thank you! And if you didn't remember that…twitches
A/N-I came up with a new idea! Happy I hope you enjoy the first chapter!
My Life's Story
Chapter One
My name is Sapue Encan, but I started out as Kagome. Kagome Higurashi. It's a name I don't want to remember, yet I cannot help but to remember. Reality is harsh, and living in your own world can destroy you. I've learned that when I was had just come into the world.
I weighed much less then the average baby, with the village midwife saying I wouldn't make it past a week while my mother lay pale in her bed, sweat breaking out all over her skin. That week turned into a month, and that month turned into a year. It turns out, the midwife was wrong. Even the priestess of my village predicted that I would die within a month. But I showed them. I grew up into an average, respectable daughter at 13 years old, 5 feet 4 inches tall, dark hair, and the most amazing blue eyes. I lived with my family, but I had two things other girls my age didn't have.
Every child in the village had a father. And every child, excluding myself, was illiterate.
My mother had me by wedlock, with my father gone long before mama was into her first month of pregnancy. No, my father, whoever he is, didn't force her. She was foolishly in love, as teenagers often are. And that was the first mistake of her life. The second was when she married my brother's father 4 years after I was born. He was an alcoholic, abusive, short-tempered, and had no responsibility whatsoever but he fooled my poor mama into thinking he was an upright, law abiding gentleman. I still scoff when I think of that. Mama still has scars from when Hataraku (I still refuse to call him stepfather or anything remotely formal even though it has been years) was raging drunk. Even though Souta is my half-brother, and fathered by a coldhearted man, he is the sweetest one I'll ever know. After two failed relationships, mama sweared by the sister to Buddha that she would never marry nor indulge in contact ever again.
The only reason why I am able to read and write in such a small village as this was all due to my grandpap. He made sure that by the time I was four, I knew the alphabet from A to Z and vice versa. By the time I was seven, I had to recite proverbs and poems from memory and knew how to add, subtract, multiply, and divide. When I hit ten, I knew arithmetic up to radicals. By the time I turned thirteen, knowing how to barter and negotiate with passing merchants for necessities, and in a few cases, decorations and such was helpful for everyone in the village. My grandpap was taught in a city school, dropping out when he reached the age of 17 and decided to move in with my grandma into a rural, peaceful village. Grandma died in childbirth.
My life has been an eventful one, something most girls and women won't know about unless they read novels. So I've decided to tell my life story. And it begins when I'd just turned ten, coming home from calculating how many acres the Higurashi's had left to plant clover to replenish the soil with needed nutrients.
I came home that day late in the afternoon, watching curiously as villagers kept running ahead of me. It was brisk, spring day, with the hint of newness in the air as it is often in the season. I caught the scent of smoke in the air when a wind blew, and suddenly I knew what had happened.
Flying, I arrived upon my small house, flames leaping and licking everywhere. Grandpap stood outside, tears leaking out the corners of his eyes. Ash covered his homely clothing, and his left hand was burned red as if he tried to grab something that was on fire. My mother and brother were nowhere to be seen.
"Grandpap?' I whispered.
He turned to look down on me, his mouth in a wavering line. "Kagome, we've lost them,' he muttered, watching hopelessly as villagers tried to stop the flames.
Even though I knew what he was talking about, I asked him to make sure. "Lost who?"
"Niete and Souta."
The statement hung in the air between us.
I said nothing, the realization sinking into me. Niete, my mother, was dead. Her patience, her kindness, was gone forever. His happiness, his innocence at the young age of nine, Souta didn't deserve to die so soon. Both of their loving auras would be gone forever.
I never cried that day; I just kept biting my lip, even when neighbors brought out the charred remains of half my family. I refused to cry; afraid that I would lose my face in a village that respected me as much they respected the priestess.
It was also that day that I met Inuyasha.
A/N-This is really short, but I want to see how people like it and their opinions on it. I like getting feedback for a new story of mine, so please RR!