Art In Death
Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha or anything related to the said work. The plot of this story was inspired by this book I once read.
Chapter Three: Where Do I Belong? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sota stood in the doorway of Kagome's room and studied his sister. She looked fragile, lost somehow. She still wore the baggy pants and the oversized sweater that she had arrived in.
Yet, she had always been the tough one, even as a child she had insisted on doing everything herself: finding answers, solving puzzles, fighting the pain...
She had been fearless, doing anything just to prove she could. It seemed to him that Kagome had always had something to prove.
After their mother had disappeared, Kagome had pushed away from everyone, proving that she needs no one and nothing but herself.
Well, Sota decided, she need something now, she need her family. He stepped into her room and pushed a plate onto her lap.
"Eat," was all he said. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kikyo was still steaming as she walked toward the beach. Kagome had come back, she will sure to flatter her success and how perfect her life had been. And the fact that she had arrived at Shikon was no coincidence to Kikyo's own failure.
This time, she would hold her ground and her head up high. She would not be dazed by Kagome's latest triumph, latest trip, and latest success... She wasn't going to be Miss Hotshot's twin sister any longer. She had outgrown that role and it's time that everyone realizes it.
As Kikyo walked down the curve of the beach, she saw a figure in the water. As she walked closer, she realized that it was Naraku, and he had his eyes on her.
It was no secret, everybody knows that Naraku had a crush on her since who knows when, and Kikyo isn't exactly innocent either.
She had considered herself a good actress and it is time to open the curtains for Naraku.
She dropped the towel she had brought with her onto the sand. There was no doubt that he was watching her. As if on stage, Kikyo put her heart into the performance. Standing near the edge of the water, she slipped off her sunglasses, letting them fall carelessly onto the towel. Slowly, she stepped out of her sandals, and outstripped the little sundress she wore. The bikini underneath, well, let's just say that it didn't cover a lot of space.
Dropping the cotton, she shook her head, and walked into the sea. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Naraku let the next wave roll over him. He knew that every move, every gesture that Kikyo made was deliberate, but that didn't seem to make any difference. He couldn't take his eyes off her, couldn't prevent himself from watching her.
As she walked into the water, it moved up her body. He imagined what it would be like to touch that pale skin and that raven hair. She dipped down, and rose again with her hair shiny and wet, water sliding off her skin.
"The water is cold today," she called, "and a little rough."
"Well, you don't usually come until June." Answered Naraku.
"Maybe I want it cold today." Kikyo whispered into his ear as she examines the rest of his body.
"See something interesting?" Naraku asked with amusement in his eyes.
"I just might."
"I thought that you had a reason for swimming out here mostly naked. Are you going to tell me or do you want me to guess?"
Kikyo laughed and kicked to keep a teasing distance between them. " Maybe I just want to cool off. Anything wrong with that?"
"I imagine so." Naraku was glad that he understood her more than she could ever imagine. "I heard Kagome came home this morning."
Kikyo's expression suddenly changed, leaving her eyes cold. "So?"
Kikyo kicked away from him and started to swim toward the shore, but a pair of hands grabbed her wrist and turned her toward him.
"Get you hands off..." The end of her demand was lost as she found her lips against his.
She never realized just how sexy his mouth is and how big his hands were. Never had she ever imagined that she would be in need, in need of the moment.
"Naraku, I want you, right now, right here." Kikyo was amazed that she could still speak.
Naraku suddenly pushed her away and looked into her eyes. "I have waited Kikyo, so can you."
"What are you talking about?" Kikyo said as she tried desperate to stay above the waves.
"I am not going to satisfy your moment of need and then have you walking away. Whenever you want a little more than that, you know where to find me."
"You... don't you ever touch me again." Kikyo stalk off to shore as Naraku stood there.
His own words still remained in his ears. He had decided, he was either the smartest man on the Island of Four Souls, or the stupidest. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kagome gathered up just enough energy to take a walk and when she just reached the edges of the garden, she saw Kikyo storm up the path. She hadn't bothered to dry off, so little sundress she wore clung to her like a second skin. Kagome raised an eyebrow.
"So, how's the water?"
"Go to hell," The humiliation was still there, Kikyo straightened up her shoulders. "Just go straight to hell."
"I'm beginning to think that I have already been there. Of course, I have expected this."
"Why should we be so grateful that you have come back? This place mean nothing to you, neither do we."
"How do you know what matters to me Kikyo?"
"I don't see you changing the sheets, clearing table. When was the last time you cleaned this inn?"
"Is that what you have been doing all afternoon." Kagome glanced at her sister Kikyo's damp and sandy legs to her dripping hair. "It must be some cleaning job."
"Since when do I have to explain myself to you?"
"Same goes, Kikyo." Just as Kagome started to move past her, Kikyo grabbed her arm and turned her around.
"Why did you come back here?"
The fear and weariness suddenly swept her, making her want to cry. " I don't know, but I'm not out to hurt anybody. Right now, I'm too tired to fight with you."
Amazed, Kikyo stared at her. The sister she knew would never gave up without a fight. She had never known Kagome to tremble and back off. "What happened to you?"
"I'll let you know when I figure it out." Kagome shook off the hand that was blocking her. "Leave me alone, I'll do the same for you."
She walked quietly down the path, barely notice the surroundings. She needs to think, just an hour or two of peace, so she could think about what to do and how to tell them. Should she even tell them?
Could she tell them about her breakdown? Could she tell anyone that she had spent two weeks in the hospital because her nerves had snapped? Would they even care?
How could she tell them about the photograph? What if they ask to see it? She would have to tell them that it was gone, just like her mother.
They would think she's mad.
Could she tell them that she had spent days in her apartment trembling, lock every door, after she left the hospital? Is she ill?
She had come home, because she finally accepted that she needed her family. If she had stay in that apartment for another day, she may never find the courage to leave it again.
Still, the photo was so clear in her mind. The texture, the tones, the art. Her mother had been young in that photo, isn't that how she remembered her – young?
Kagome heard a twig snapped behind her, and turned to look. It was her older sister Sango.
"Kagome," Sango stopped a foot away and took her measures. Sota was right, the girl looked pale, ill, and drained.
"Sango." Kagome stood up and looked at her sister.
"Welcome home Kagome." Sango hugged Kagome so tight that she almost couldn't breathe.
"Thank you, Sango." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Miles away, in the red glow of the darkroom light, he slipped paper, emulsion side up, into a tray of developing fluid, It please him to re- create the moment from so many years before, too watch it from on the paper, shadow by shadow and line by line.
He was nearly done with this phase, so the only thing to do was to draw and drain all the pleasure before he moved on.
He had driven her back to Shikon. The idea made him chuckle, nothing could have been more perfect. It was there that he wanted her; otherwise, he would have taken her before, dozen times before.
Everything would be perfect; he knew the beauty of perfection and the satisfaction of working toward creating it.
Not Mrs. Higurashi, but her daughter, Kagome. She would be his triumph, his masterpiece.
Claim her, take her, kill her.
Ever stage of that would be captured on film. Oh how Kagome would appreciate that. He could barely wait to explain all, everything to her, the one person that will sure understand his ambitions and art.
Her work had drawn him, his understanding made him feel intimate with her already, and they were about to become even more intimate.
Smiling, he shifted the print from the developing tray to the stop bath, swishing it through before lifting it into the fixer. Carefully, he checked the temperature of the wash, waiting patiently until the timer ray and he could switch on the white light and examine the print.
Beautiful, just beautiful, lovely composition. The dramatic lighting, the lovely shadows to outline the body and highlight skin tomes. The subject, it all depends on the subject.
When the print was fully fixed, he lifted it out of the tray and into the running water of the wash. Now, it is time to dream about what was to come.
He was close to her than ever, link to her through the photograph that reflected each of their lives. He could barely wait to send her the next, but he knew that he must choose the time with great care.
On the worktable beside him, a journal lay open, its precisely written words faded from time.
The Decisive moment is the ultimate goal in my work. Capturing that short, passing events where all the elements, all the dynamics of a subject reach a peak. What more exciting moment can there be beside death? How much control can the photographer have over this moment, over capturing of it on film?
I will only kill one woman, she has to be perfect. I have chosen her with great care.
She is Mrs. Higurashi.
Will a sign, he hung the print to dry and turned on the white light to study it.
"Mrs. Higurashi," he murmured. "So beautiful, and your daughter is like the mirror image of you."
He left the photo there, and went out to complete his plans for his stay on the Island of Four Souls. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Another chapter done.
Who is this mystery guy?
What does he want to do with Kagome?
Who wrote the journal?
Find out in the next chapters.
Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha or anything related to the said work. The plot of this story was inspired by this book I once read.
Chapter Three: Where Do I Belong? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sota stood in the doorway of Kagome's room and studied his sister. She looked fragile, lost somehow. She still wore the baggy pants and the oversized sweater that she had arrived in.
Yet, she had always been the tough one, even as a child she had insisted on doing everything herself: finding answers, solving puzzles, fighting the pain...
She had been fearless, doing anything just to prove she could. It seemed to him that Kagome had always had something to prove.
After their mother had disappeared, Kagome had pushed away from everyone, proving that she needs no one and nothing but herself.
Well, Sota decided, she need something now, she need her family. He stepped into her room and pushed a plate onto her lap.
"Eat," was all he said. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kikyo was still steaming as she walked toward the beach. Kagome had come back, she will sure to flatter her success and how perfect her life had been. And the fact that she had arrived at Shikon was no coincidence to Kikyo's own failure.
This time, she would hold her ground and her head up high. She would not be dazed by Kagome's latest triumph, latest trip, and latest success... She wasn't going to be Miss Hotshot's twin sister any longer. She had outgrown that role and it's time that everyone realizes it.
As Kikyo walked down the curve of the beach, she saw a figure in the water. As she walked closer, she realized that it was Naraku, and he had his eyes on her.
It was no secret, everybody knows that Naraku had a crush on her since who knows when, and Kikyo isn't exactly innocent either.
She had considered herself a good actress and it is time to open the curtains for Naraku.
She dropped the towel she had brought with her onto the sand. There was no doubt that he was watching her. As if on stage, Kikyo put her heart into the performance. Standing near the edge of the water, she slipped off her sunglasses, letting them fall carelessly onto the towel. Slowly, she stepped out of her sandals, and outstripped the little sundress she wore. The bikini underneath, well, let's just say that it didn't cover a lot of space.
Dropping the cotton, she shook her head, and walked into the sea. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Naraku let the next wave roll over him. He knew that every move, every gesture that Kikyo made was deliberate, but that didn't seem to make any difference. He couldn't take his eyes off her, couldn't prevent himself from watching her.
As she walked into the water, it moved up her body. He imagined what it would be like to touch that pale skin and that raven hair. She dipped down, and rose again with her hair shiny and wet, water sliding off her skin.
"The water is cold today," she called, "and a little rough."
"Well, you don't usually come until June." Answered Naraku.
"Maybe I want it cold today." Kikyo whispered into his ear as she examines the rest of his body.
"See something interesting?" Naraku asked with amusement in his eyes.
"I just might."
"I thought that you had a reason for swimming out here mostly naked. Are you going to tell me or do you want me to guess?"
Kikyo laughed and kicked to keep a teasing distance between them. " Maybe I just want to cool off. Anything wrong with that?"
"I imagine so." Naraku was glad that he understood her more than she could ever imagine. "I heard Kagome came home this morning."
Kikyo's expression suddenly changed, leaving her eyes cold. "So?"
Kikyo kicked away from him and started to swim toward the shore, but a pair of hands grabbed her wrist and turned her toward him.
"Get you hands off..." The end of her demand was lost as she found her lips against his.
She never realized just how sexy his mouth is and how big his hands were. Never had she ever imagined that she would be in need, in need of the moment.
"Naraku, I want you, right now, right here." Kikyo was amazed that she could still speak.
Naraku suddenly pushed her away and looked into her eyes. "I have waited Kikyo, so can you."
"What are you talking about?" Kikyo said as she tried desperate to stay above the waves.
"I am not going to satisfy your moment of need and then have you walking away. Whenever you want a little more than that, you know where to find me."
"You... don't you ever touch me again." Kikyo stalk off to shore as Naraku stood there.
His own words still remained in his ears. He had decided, he was either the smartest man on the Island of Four Souls, or the stupidest. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kagome gathered up just enough energy to take a walk and when she just reached the edges of the garden, she saw Kikyo storm up the path. She hadn't bothered to dry off, so little sundress she wore clung to her like a second skin. Kagome raised an eyebrow.
"So, how's the water?"
"Go to hell," The humiliation was still there, Kikyo straightened up her shoulders. "Just go straight to hell."
"I'm beginning to think that I have already been there. Of course, I have expected this."
"Why should we be so grateful that you have come back? This place mean nothing to you, neither do we."
"How do you know what matters to me Kikyo?"
"I don't see you changing the sheets, clearing table. When was the last time you cleaned this inn?"
"Is that what you have been doing all afternoon." Kagome glanced at her sister Kikyo's damp and sandy legs to her dripping hair. "It must be some cleaning job."
"Since when do I have to explain myself to you?"
"Same goes, Kikyo." Just as Kagome started to move past her, Kikyo grabbed her arm and turned her around.
"Why did you come back here?"
The fear and weariness suddenly swept her, making her want to cry. " I don't know, but I'm not out to hurt anybody. Right now, I'm too tired to fight with you."
Amazed, Kikyo stared at her. The sister she knew would never gave up without a fight. She had never known Kagome to tremble and back off. "What happened to you?"
"I'll let you know when I figure it out." Kagome shook off the hand that was blocking her. "Leave me alone, I'll do the same for you."
She walked quietly down the path, barely notice the surroundings. She needs to think, just an hour or two of peace, so she could think about what to do and how to tell them. Should she even tell them?
Could she tell them about her breakdown? Could she tell anyone that she had spent two weeks in the hospital because her nerves had snapped? Would they even care?
How could she tell them about the photograph? What if they ask to see it? She would have to tell them that it was gone, just like her mother.
They would think she's mad.
Could she tell them that she had spent days in her apartment trembling, lock every door, after she left the hospital? Is she ill?
She had come home, because she finally accepted that she needed her family. If she had stay in that apartment for another day, she may never find the courage to leave it again.
Still, the photo was so clear in her mind. The texture, the tones, the art. Her mother had been young in that photo, isn't that how she remembered her – young?
Kagome heard a twig snapped behind her, and turned to look. It was her older sister Sango.
"Kagome," Sango stopped a foot away and took her measures. Sota was right, the girl looked pale, ill, and drained.
"Sango." Kagome stood up and looked at her sister.
"Welcome home Kagome." Sango hugged Kagome so tight that she almost couldn't breathe.
"Thank you, Sango." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Miles away, in the red glow of the darkroom light, he slipped paper, emulsion side up, into a tray of developing fluid, It please him to re- create the moment from so many years before, too watch it from on the paper, shadow by shadow and line by line.
He was nearly done with this phase, so the only thing to do was to draw and drain all the pleasure before he moved on.
He had driven her back to Shikon. The idea made him chuckle, nothing could have been more perfect. It was there that he wanted her; otherwise, he would have taken her before, dozen times before.
Everything would be perfect; he knew the beauty of perfection and the satisfaction of working toward creating it.
Not Mrs. Higurashi, but her daughter, Kagome. She would be his triumph, his masterpiece.
Claim her, take her, kill her.
Ever stage of that would be captured on film. Oh how Kagome would appreciate that. He could barely wait to explain all, everything to her, the one person that will sure understand his ambitions and art.
Her work had drawn him, his understanding made him feel intimate with her already, and they were about to become even more intimate.
Smiling, he shifted the print from the developing tray to the stop bath, swishing it through before lifting it into the fixer. Carefully, he checked the temperature of the wash, waiting patiently until the timer ray and he could switch on the white light and examine the print.
Beautiful, just beautiful, lovely composition. The dramatic lighting, the lovely shadows to outline the body and highlight skin tomes. The subject, it all depends on the subject.
When the print was fully fixed, he lifted it out of the tray and into the running water of the wash. Now, it is time to dream about what was to come.
He was close to her than ever, link to her through the photograph that reflected each of their lives. He could barely wait to send her the next, but he knew that he must choose the time with great care.
On the worktable beside him, a journal lay open, its precisely written words faded from time.
The Decisive moment is the ultimate goal in my work. Capturing that short, passing events where all the elements, all the dynamics of a subject reach a peak. What more exciting moment can there be beside death? How much control can the photographer have over this moment, over capturing of it on film?
I will only kill one woman, she has to be perfect. I have chosen her with great care.
She is Mrs. Higurashi.
Will a sign, he hung the print to dry and turned on the white light to study it.
"Mrs. Higurashi," he murmured. "So beautiful, and your daughter is like the mirror image of you."
He left the photo there, and went out to complete his plans for his stay on the Island of Four Souls. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Another chapter done.
Who is this mystery guy?
What does he want to do with Kagome?
Who wrote the journal?
Find out in the next chapters.