Scars
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an Inuyasha fanfiction
by
mkh2
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Disclaimer: the world will rue the day that I get my hands on Inuyasha, at least that's what I'm guessing since I don't have Inuyasha yet. So, when I do get Inuyasha, the world will be very rueful. Probably. The world's so messed up who knows… they might have a party and do an international conga line.
Tippy: Translation: the baka doesn't own Inuyasha – don't sue her or she'll stop buying me food.
Mikki: Thank you my loving little sister. .
… Also, I don't own Curad Scar Therapy patches, the tricky little things.
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Based on my experiences with my own irritating, stupid scar… grr.
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She twisted and squirmed, bending her body to a rather unnatural position as she tried to remove the sticky piece of… whatever the patch was made of …from her fingertips and adhere it instead to the side of her body where it was needed. The scar, the last known remnant of her first mind-jarring night in the Sengoku Jidai, a lasting souvenir from the jaws of Mistress Centipede, was light in color and not very long, but still distracting enough to anyone who saw it up close. She claimed it didn't bother her in the least having the scar… but she lied. Of course, that last fact was rather obvious since she was trying to get rid of it, well, at least most of it, with the help of these handy-dandy little patches from the people from Curad, bless their scientific little hearts. With a last grunt and sigh, she examined her handy-work in the mirror and smiled, pleased with her efforts. She pulled her shirt on.
If these frustrating little patches could do the trick, she'd try them on Sango – if she still wanted to by then. Though normally not suspicious about most such handy medical devices her dear friend brought from her time in the future, the shy girl did seem rather wary about a piece of parchment that all but promised the disappearance of scars. The lovelorn taiyjiya, though, did seem willing to consider the offer if it worked; after all, Sango was still a woman with all her insecurities, and she often worried that she wouldn't be attractive enough to find a suitable husband (so she said, but the attentions of a certain houshi should have been enough to quell any such despairing thoughts.) She found out sadly, that the patches actually needed to be firmly attached with the extra adhesive patches that came in the box – after all, with all the twisting and moving that came with the walking, her waist wasn't actually still enough to keep the thing on her without her constant attention – so that was one point she had to subtract from all the bonus points she had heaped on them. It hurt like crazy taking them off, not too mention all the scrubbing that went into removing the "clothing lint" that had by the end of the day adhered to her skin. She could only guess how many would be needed to take away the one on her friend's back.
She looked herself over in the mirror, frowning at the little Band Aid with its tiny broomsticks and witches that was plastered to her cheek just an inch below her left eye. She was treating it as carefully as possible in the hopes not to add another scar to her collection. She was careful now, yes, but obviously was careless enough to get the injury in the first place. She hadn't watched where she stepped, tripped over a tree root and did a face plant worthy of Inuyasha's finest dives into the dirt, all courtesy of herself via Oswurai, of course.
It's so easy to get hurt.
She sighed softly. That was so true, it was so easy to get hurt; one slip, one spill, one careless gesture, and one would find themselves bearing the mark of the pain and errors from their past for a lifetime. It's also so easy to look back with all one's woulda, shoulda, couldas, to see where you messed up and know what steps should have been taken to prevent the pain from occurring in the first place. Sometimes she wished she had some demon blood in her like Inuyasha, that way she wouldn't have to worry about getting hurt and having a lasting scar.
She frowned at that callous thought. True, Inuyasha might get hurt physically and heal quickly, but that didn't mean he didn't also get hurt and scarred in places that couldn't be seen. She saw the pain that was all too apparent in his eyes every time something reminded him of his past, of his mother, of his childhood, of… Kikyo. Of course, that last one hurt her too.
Everyone has a scar somewhere. It could be the most insignificant thing, from a paper cut, from a nasty spill as a child, from a careless hand in dealing with a knife, or even from a burn… or perhaps instead from a scorned love, a lost friend, getting that which is most precious to you stolen away.
Kagome closed her eyes and leaned against the wall in the bathroom, across from the mirror over the sink. When she stood that far away from someone in real life, no one could see the scar unless they really looked but when she stood closer, like, say, next to the sink, they could see it plainly. But now… she lifted the shirt to reveal the patch in all its blinding white glory. From where she leaned it was ever apparent and it would be more so when she stood by the sink, the patch calling attention to the hurt flesh it covered. However, someday soon she could stand by the sink (if the ads truly did stand up to their claims) and nothing will be seen but smooth, clear flesh, devoid of any mark or change in color.
She wished such a thing could be found for Inuyasha's heart, and for Sango's heart, and Miroku's and Shippou's hearts, and the hearts of all the grieving people she had met in her journeys; a simple patch that could be administered with one deft stroke of the hand and then removed (albeit slightly painfully – she was, after all, bringing into account the tug of hair) and leave no trace of the bitter past. Yes, the patch would make the fragility more apparent for sometime but eventually the healing balm would work and then it would be no more than a dull memory.
She finished getting ready and ran out to meet Inuyasha.
~
"Hey, Kagome, about time you got back. I'm hungry, got any ramen?" Inuyasha asked, pulling Kagome up by her backpack.
"Oh. Hi Inuyasha. Sorry about the wait. I was trying to get that scar removal patch on and it was being a pain," Kagome chirped up at him, a slight smile on her lips as she was placed on her feet in the flower-filled field by the well.
"Keh. Yeah, whatever. …So, um, how's it going?" Inuyasha faced slightly to the side, arms in his sleeves, ears pointed slightly towards her.
"How's what going?" Kagome blinked at him. Was he asking her how her day was?
"The- the patch thingies. What did you think I was talking about?" Inuyasha blinked right back at her.
"Oh, right," Kagome sweat dropped before tugging up her shirt enough to show him the patch. "Well, it's a bit annoying at times, and glaringly obvious so I can't dress like I want, and it is a bug to try to get it off since it clings to my skin like a second skin, but the scar is healing and in the end it's all worth it." She smiled up at him. "In fact, I was thinking how nice it would be if the people at Curad could make some for broken hearts, to heal them, so I could give some to Sango for her sadness for her brother and Shippou for his loss of his parents… and you."
"Whuh— Me? What the heck are you talking about? I don't need one. That's nonsense." Inuyasha stomped towards to the village, Kagome's backpack in hand (though when exactly he had gotten possession of it was beyond her), the aforementioned girl trailing after him. She caught up to him and grinning, grabbed his hand and started to tug him while skipping slightly, despite his half-hearted protests. He smiled softly.
'Really, Kagome, I don't see how I could need one when I already have *you working on me.'
~Owari~
As a testament to show you just how late at night I was writing this piece, here's the deleted portion marked by the asterisk above: "*a big Kagome-shaped one"
How is it that I know it's so annoying to use one on the waist, you ask? It's because I happen to have one just about where Kagome would have one, thanks to a rather unfortunate car accident ten days before my fourteenth birthday. We were driving up a mountain when some drunken idiot swerves out of his lane into ours, side-swiping the car in front of us and slamming head on into us. So-o, the belt buckle bit into my left side, right along the area where Kagome would have been bitten by Mistress Centipede, and big enough for my huge honking marble (um, a big shooter?) to have fit comfortably in (probably a bit bigger than the Shikon no Tama – and just consider the size of the bandage they put over her wound…) The sad thing is, that was probably the smallest injury on me (though in my opinion the most painful, much more than the cracked clavicle) and it wouldn't have scarred if the people attending us had cleaned it like I asked… Sorry, I tend to gripe about that. But seriously! Was a little peroxide so much to ask for?
Recently I bought some of those strips and have been trying them out… I think it's working rather well despite it only have been in use for a short while, probably because I'm a pretty good healer. However, there's one thing that gets to me… It's so hard to get on right! I'm twisting and turning and bending over trying to make sure I line the stupid strip on right and then I have to put the extra adhesive on otherwise it sticks to my shirt and falls on the floor… I guess it's all part and parcel for being on a part of my body that does lots of moving around (like on a knuckle or wrist… lots of movement there…) You'd think the mirror would help but no… I always get confused about which way to move my hands and then the stupid thing gets stuck to my hands…
Now, here's my frustration over the stupid scar, vented out on all you poor readers. See, I'm not a Kagome-wannabe, just a person who got stuck with some paramedics who wouldn't pay attention to me when I asked for something to clean my cut.
I'm probably going to have another piece out soon… Unfortunately I won't being updating my "Hey! What's with the growling?" fic or "Vegeta ½" because I just realized I had saved both stories to my Zip disk and only to my Zip disk… and I don't have a Zip drive at home.
Hope you've enjoyed my pointless ramblings.
~Mikki
The time spent on the actual fic:
Around one hour… I was kind of busy eating rice with… um, I'm not sure what exactly it is called, but it's tasty and it looks like some kind of red… meat… stuff. I should ask mom what it's called since she's the one who makes it.
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AN: I've had this saved on a bad floppy disk that only just recently decided to relinquish the information it's been holding out on me. And here was this little fic. I cleaned it up (a little bit, I mostly got rid of same main spelling errors – horrors of all horrors, the computer had changed Sango to Bingo! I'm not even sure how that happened!)