"Okaasan, I'm going to go lie down. I'll leave this to you."
"Musuko, it's your turn to help with lunch."
He tried to keep a wince down, fighting to clutch his head against the migraine which wouldn't quit today. "Wakarimasu...demo..." His eyes squeezed and raven swished as he tried to shake it away.
A hand attached to his forehead and coolness gained some attention. "Musuko...daijoubu?"
'Why is everyone asking me that lately??'
"Aa. Just a headache."
That cool hand brushed over his cheek and another bout of deja vu hit hard. An odor of grass, dew, perfumes, and something he couldn't put his finger one rose to his nose and his brow furrowed. He glanced to the patio, but of course it was closed, as winter was closing in.
"I'll finish here. You go do what you intended."
He gave a thankful nod. "Arigatou okaasan. Wake me if I'm not up in half an hour."
"Hai."
He ambled out of the kitchen and trudged up the steps. His body felt weighted today and it was hard to concentrate. Work was more than a chore and he came home early when a strong smell of curry set off a pain behind his eyes what felt like someone punched him.
He plopped on his futon with a sigh, gritting his teeth as his forearm smacked the wood frame. There would be a nice little bruise soon, but as long as he didn't seriously hurt anything. He chanced a peek, raising the appendage to his view and poked the throbbing area. It was assuredly sore and he dropped everything in favor of relaxing.
He heaved a sigh, the comfortable bliss of body sinking to mattress helping sleep along. The urge to move was miles away and he wished to stay like this till tomorrow. He could skip meals - food wasn't really on his mind these days - but the family wouldn't like that. Especially the women.
Like he wanted obaasan and okaasan worrying about him.
Blackness was everywhere, but he felt someone was with him. It was impossible to see, so his ears strained to hear, finding the smallest of whispers seemingly miles off.
'Dare?'
The whispers slowly neared and he tried to will subconscious to move and appease his curiosity. They faded in and out, as if someone were covering and uncovering their mouths.
'Dare??'
"...ma..."
'What is it you're telling me this time?'
"...tama... Shi...tama..."
'Jewel...what jewel?'
A bright flash suddenly erupted in his vision, engulfing the world in florescent pink. There was no way to shield his sight and he cried out as light blinded him.
There was no way to shake his head or blink effects off so he waited them out, watching pink turn to white. It was so radiant and warm, like holding a mug of hot tea on a chilly winter day, wrapped up in a nice pair of thick tabi and wool happi.
Blobs soon floated into focus. Some were rather tall and sparse, white slowly gaining colors. The whispers seemed to continue through the transformation, not waiting until he could see what was transpiring.
There was a sound of wind through his ears, soft wind that ruffled nearby leaves and he associated the blobs with that. Smells of dirt, stagnant water, wild flowers, greenery, and sap came in that one whiff. He didn't know how it was possible to have so many in one inhale, but it was nice. Reminded him of his spot.
The image soon showed itself as a forest, lush around the time of spring or summer. There were two small blobs sticking out among the trees on a hill. The sky was deep blue of late afternoon and if he paid close attention, could discern the shifts of beginning sunset.
"Shikon no tama?"
He whipped to the highly familiar voice, surprise and yet more familiarity coming. How was it he heard those two blobs - one male from the voice - at the bottom of the slope?? Regardless of the question or answer, he hurried to get closer, to get in on what this dream was showing him before he woke up.
"I'll...become human?"
"You can you see - you're someone who's half-way human naturally. If a wicked youkai gets their hands on the Shikon no tama, their demonic powers will get increasingly stronger and the jewel will never disappear. However...if you use it for the sake of becoming human, it will purify the Shikon no tama...and it'll probably vanish."
"What'll become of you?"
"I am the one protecting the jewel... If the jewel disappears...I can become an ordinary woman."
"Mezamerimasu. Oi - ototo!"
Brown jerked open, rapidly blinking at a little lightheadedness from being shoved to the waking world. He groaned and tried to bury his head into the soft mattress, but wasn't going to get off that lightly.
Jayden snorted and gave the futon a sound kick, mindful not to hurt herself or it, but enough to jar the loaf and annoy him.
"Yamero!"
Mission accomplished.
"Get up or I'll do it again."
"How would you like it if I did that to yours?" He grumbled, feeling overly irritated. Normally he was a little, but never this bad.
"I'd have to hurt you." Thunk. "Okaasan wants you up to help set the table since you slept away your cooking duties. Up!" Thunk.
His head shot up, eyes smoldering and brows deeply furrowed. "Knock it off!!"
Jayden jumped at the hostility and took a step back. A small shiver raced through her, though she wouldn't be intimidated. "Then stop being such a lazy ass! Sheesh, why're you so grumpy??"
He scooted up and sat on his calves, a hand trying to fix overly lengthy bangs. His body was lighter, but it seemed to travel to his head and remain. "You're not the best thing to wake up to you know."
Jayden scowled, feeling a little hurt. He seemed to mean it and she had a feeling he wasn't playing. She lived with him - she knew the difference. Trying not to let it show, she disdainfully sniffed and turned her nose up. "Fine - be that way. Then you can start sleeping in the basement or the outside dojo!" Nails digging into palms, Jayden stormed out and stomped through the hall.
The hand massaging his scalp stopped and he sighed. Fingers tried to rub sleep away and gain his wits. It was hard to think properly, mostly with that dream clouding his mind. So strange...the clothing was easy to recognize, but the words made no sense. Why did he listen in on that conversation? It played specifically for him, but stopped too soon with that rude awakening.
He grimaced and turned to the doorway, swinging his legs to the floor. Neechan wasn't going to like him until he apologized and probably not forgive him either. Not like it was on purpose...the words flowed without thought. Anger seemed second nature and the biting response felt good, though it stomped on the messenger without mercy.
Again he sighed and looked out the window, finding the sun moved while he was unconscious. 'Better swallow my pride and get this over with now before it drags on any longer.'
He gradually stood, still not feeling the rest did any good, and shuffled to the hall. Smells assaulted him and his stomach grumbled. Hunger was calling, but his mind didn't recognize it. It was being taken up by so many odd things it was hard to focus.
Jayden moved stiffly as she attended the cooking. His face smoothed, though guilt was under the surface. He could see she wasn't going to make it easy on him and to top it off...everyone would be back for lunch. Well...obaasan and ojiisan had lunch at the store so he would be lucky to stay obaasan's comments at least.
Luck smiled on him even a little.
Omo walked in from outside and immediately took place on a zabuton. He started in on plates, taking over what his mother started. He nodded to his father, gaining a receiving, and almost ran into Jayden upon turn and getting lunch draped all over.
By the look in her eyes, he could see she was tempted, even if she'd have to clean the mess up. If that made her feel better - despite getting first degree burns for it - he would let her do it. He deserved that much at least.
He noticed something that came when going to grab the heaviest load from the stove. His arm didn't hurt. He snuck a glance at it and was more confused.
There was no bruise and no pain.
He slammed it on the bed before he slept and didn't nap that long. By now, a big blue or purple splotch should be smack center, but one was absent. It was like it never happened and that dazzled him.
A hand wrapped around the appendage, thumb pressing the site. 'That's so weird. I didn't imagine that - the pain was too real. How could it vanish? Not possible - the human body doesn't heal at that speed.'
"Are you alright musuko?"
Hands shot to his lap, vision jerking up. "Hai otousan."
'Best not to worry about it in front of the others. If I can't explain it, neither will they.' He started in piling his plate, though letting Jayden get not only the best pieces, but going before. If either parent noticed his uncommon generosity, they said nothing. 'How am I going to say it? She's still angry - I can tell. This is going to suck.'
Part of him said to leave it as it was. That's what she got for kicking his futon and waking him up so rudely. The whispered voice was saying she was always like this so why apologize? Be cruel for once - it's not as if he was the bad guy here.
He blinked at the anger - why he felt that in the first place was beyond him - and spared Jayden a glance under his bangs. She studiously ignored looking back, which gave him more freedom to stare.
Why would he think that toward his own sister? Granted she got on his nerves and deliberately picked on him, but he did so as well so they were even. And to wish such malice on his ONLY sister was not like him. Jayden never did anything to make him hate her.
'You're an adult.' He reminded, sticking rice in his mouth. 'Stop being so damn childish and accept your punishment. You were wrong to bitch her out, so apologize you will.' Brown spied a glance over his teacup and widened in surprise at finding a hurtful glare his way. He quickly looked away. 'Even though this's going to be harder than hell!'
He took Jayden's spot at the sink to clean dishes and she readily let him have it. He still wasn't off the hook, but trying to butter her up was part of the plan and he'd suffer dishpan hands for her if it helped her forgive him.
By the time okaasan finished cleaning the table and he finished loading the dishwasher, Jayden was nowhere around. He checked each floor and even a quick sweep of the backyard. She either didn't want to hear his apology, or went somewhere to stew in private.
"Great." He muttered. He nearly kicked zouri off and shut the glass door, trying not to show frustration. Now he had to steep in guilt and keep the words to himself even longer.
Otousan left for the store and okaasan was out tending to the garden to finish getting it ready for winter temperatures, so he was virtually alone. He sighed, feeling tension in his shoulders.
There was nothing to do. He didn't feel like going back to the store when another migraine could erupt and make him knock over a shelf or delivery. He CERTAINLY didn't feel like hunting Jayden down just so he could apologize. Though he told himself he would, that was sounding like a chore right now.
A nap was out - he wasn't tired. With the disturbed sleep he kept getting, it was amazing he slept at all. If he tried again, he wouldn't fall asleep tonight, so that was out.
It was Friday, meaning K had classes and work. He told her to call him when she felt able to, and imagined himself in for a long wait. The thought of it sent spikes of annoyance - unbeknownst to him, but he squelched the bad. Everything was finally laid out so there was no problem worrying about their situation.
But now that everything WAS clear, he wanted to see her more often. He could be as open as he wanted and so could she, yet they were miles apart and separated for who knew how long.
He didn't like that one bit.
Swiftly turning on a heel, he hopped the lower level steps and all but threw the basement door open. If this wasn't going to go away, he'd exhaust himself and pray his head stuck together in the meantime.
Staffs, swords, and Sai greeted brown and an odd sense of relief filled him. If he couldn't express what was going on, he'd vent in practice...which seemed the best thing. Everything in his body was saying to pick up a weapon and swing it a few times.
A Sai kata seemed the easiest, as swinging a sword around would break metal or knock out overhead lights. He wasn't in the mood for repairing and paying for that too. But picking up a Sai and twirling it a few times felt awkward. His brow furrowed at that. He knew Sai pretty well and was well-versed in twirling clockwise and counterclockwise...stumbling didn't make sense.
He held the object, staring at it from top to bottom. It felt foreign and he had a strange notion of never holding one before.
Raven swished as he savagely tried to shake sense to him. "You're imagining things. You've got hours with this. Shit I'm surprised there aren't grooves in this thing by now from my finger."
Regardless of what he tried to tell himself, the Sai went back on the wooden holder.
Brown looked to wakazashi and katana almost longingly. Wakazashi would be good for slashing and knife-like grips, but was too wimpy and couldn't replace the beauty of a katana in a kata. The arcs and slashes were art when performed correctly and he almost wished it was spring so he could practice in the yard, watching afternoon sun gleam off the blade.
Longing fiercer than the need to be by Kalie came and the urge to hold a katana was intense. It was unexplainable...and unavoidable. Brown checked the ceiling, gauging the distance of his arms and the sword's length, knowing it was useless. He couldn't practice in here without hearing from the family about treating the house with respect.
Brown rolled. He heaved a sigh and skipped steps, almost forgetting the light as he exited. He left the door open and hopped to the main level.
He jumped and nearly fell from offset momentum at finding okaasan on her zabuton with a teacup in her hands.
"Finished already?"
"Ee." She muttered, daintily sipping.
"I'm going to go practice outside for a while."
Kristine startled and a hand shot out as he passed. "Dame! It's too cold outside! You'll get sick."
He stopped, feeling warmth from the teacup. Part of him still itched to hold a full-length katana, but there was a sudden shift. Like pouring cold water over hot. Something told him to obey his mother - more than ordinary - but the need to practice and vent was too strong even for that.
He looked down, gracing her with a small smile. "I won't be long. Maybe half an hour or so. I still have to apologize to Jayden for something I said when she woke me."
"She's at the store." Kristine reported.
A brow ticked in annoyance. 'Fucking figures...'
He bit back a sigh and gently twisted his wrist free. "Ah well...if she comes back while I'm in the middle of practice, please have her come stop me."
"Musuko -"
"Ii desu. I'll be okay."
Kristine finally conceded a nod, slowly going back to her tea. A mild wind came in when the patio opened, but ended shortly as it quickly slid closed. Kristine stared at the contents in her glass, teeth soon going for her lip. "Musuko..."
He almost wanted to sprint the distance now that he unnecessarily gave himself a time limit. He could always lie and say he lost track of time - as there was no clock in the small area - but couldn't bring himself to do it. It was liable he would end up longer than thirty minutes, but the thought of lying to his mother - his only mother - almost made him feel dirty and self-loathed.
He kicked sandals off, not bothering to line them up. Eyes went to racks on both walls...one containing dull, the other razor sharp. He started for the dull side before feet all but steered him to sharp on their own. Without thought, a hand roamed over the hilts. There had to be just the right feel from the sword or his time would be wasted.
He reached the last one in disappointment. Dull swords - while being what he used most often - seemed as bad as Sai. He couldn't use those no matter how much he did before. It was wrong somehow, though he couldn't put his finger on it.
Brown swept through the dojo, sweeping over the walls and taking in details. American and Japanese flags hung directly across slitted shoji, mats to his left. A few mirrors adorned one of the walls and showed his reflection as he turned. The temperature was chilly from slants in sheetrock for windows.
On the far wall, next to a very traditional haori and hakama tacked up, was a glass case. He shuffled across wood boards, hand rising as he neared.
He looked down on a long, jet black case. He knew what was in that case, but never touched it. Hibososan once showed the prize given from HIS parents upon becoming a man, but forbade anyone save him to touch it. That was years ago, when he started learning and was interested in weapons.
It was never used. The glass had a door to it, but the lock kept it from being readily opened. He knew the combination of course, as did everyone in the family in case - gods forbid - something happened and it needed to be gotten to.
In no way should he do more than look and think about what it would be like to use such an antique - one rumored to survive past Edo Jidai. Something THAT old deserved its sleep...provided it didn't fall apart after such time and disuse. If he broke the sword by touching it, his ass would more than be in a sling...hibososan would never forgive him and neither would his great great grandparents.
That still didn't stop deft fingers from twisting the right numbers and unclicking the lock.
He felt he was stealing something more precious than the crown jewels. This was five generations old in ownership, and that was definitely taken into consideration as he tiptoed the case on glass. Fingers gently clicked the locks, wincing as if someone would hear. They snapped up and brown spied a quick look to the door, pondering if he should finish shutting and bar it.
With a shake and held breath, he pulled the lid wide and inhaled musty air. His nose wrinkled and brown stared.
This thing was assuredly as old as hibososan claimed! If the ties on the hilt were white at any time in their creation, they weren't anymore! Dirt and human oils dyed them deep gray, fingers forcing the rope to fray in half a dozen spots. The hand guard and edge of the hilt glittered in the afternoon sun and a nail tapped one of the metal pieces.
They were definitely made from gold.
Brown widened a little at that. The sword was knowingly heavy on its own, but to know that made this thing valuable on another level. No way in the seven hells would he sell it, but the simple paddle lock didn't seem strong enough now. Anyone could put their fist through flimsy glass and get it.
The scabbard was dull from sliding through too many hakama ties, but still strong. The blood red tie to hold it to hakama was wrapped around and frayed, though way less than the hilt.
Fingers swooped down and gripped the scabbard, brushing against a red velvet bed. He pulled it up and carefully bounced it a few times, testing the feel. A small smile edged his mouth as one hand gripped ebony, the other gray. In one movement, he yanked the blade free to see sunlight and taste fresh air in over a decade.
He almost fell in shock at seeing metal. What did he expect, given the condition of the hilt?? He brought it close for inspection, eyes narrowing a little.
There was no straight line on this thing! It was so chipped a serrated paring knife from the kitchen was sharper! This definitely saw many battles...or a rough owner, that was sure!
He pulled back and set the scabbard in its resting spot, walking around the small hutch. In wide open spacing, the sword slashed the air a few times in experimentation. He grinned and gripped it with the other hand. It was heavy, but he quickly adjusted after a few more practice swings.
This - oddly enough - was the sword his soul longed to practice with.
He strode to the middle of the room, daring to be farther away from the box than necessary, and took a battle stance. With a loud inhale, he held it for a second before crying out and slicing down.
He stopped the sword fully horizontal, twisted his wrists, and and turned in a circle as if to block someone from behind. The sword arched at an angle, arms guarding his face. A silly, yet fierce, grin appeared. He used the angle to slice the sword close to wood, yet missing by an inch.
Everything flowed in each calculated, simple stroke. The giddiness of practicing with such a forbidden blade, the adrenaline giving him very precise movements, and the mood of feeling he was one against many melted time and surroundings. The outside flew from his mind as he jumped into the air with a battle cry, sword above. He glared at the ground, imagined an enemy slashing for his feet, and dropped it straight to the ground.
He ended in a crouch, sword mere inches from the floor, before removing one hand and slicing in another arc to his right. He struck forward in a tight jab, going into a controlled roll as if dodging a downward thrust. Mindful of getting cut and possible tetanus, he gently cradled the sword and jumped to his feet. He gave a few kicks, timing the sword with them.
His mind blanked as ease flowed. He didn't know what he was doing, but the sound of rushing wind in each movement and the rustle of his clothes felt right. It was familiar but he didn't want to break this trance and be befuddled again. He was through with confusion, thinking, and wondering. Whether caught or not he could worry about later. Right now it was nothing but him, this sword, and the imaginary characters. The sword moved as if he always held it, and the nameless swings came easily.
He was forced to catch his breath after a while, and dropped into a crouch. Raven swished as he tried to get dripping bangs from his eyes. Cold stung his skin, though his insides burned from exertion.
If he didn't leave now, okaasan would come out complaining he would get sick again and he'd be caught. Whether she would tell was a mystery, but he couldn't take that chance.
Slowly standing, he briefly stared at the sword. It seemed to glow in the low lighting and he almost thought he was staring at it differently. Raven furrowed for a moment before his head shook and he pivoted for the wall. 'If I don't stop being so dramatic and serious, I'm going to hand myself over.'
This was without a doubt the most exciting thing to ever occur in his young life...besides meeting Kalie. He would definitely hold this in his heart for a long time, as he wouldn't be so foolish to try this stunt again. Once was enough and the specialness of doing so couldn't be redone.
He grabbed the scabbard and raised it for better lighting. He squinted and edged his thumb near the hole to get the tip positioned right. It was risky, but katana were for slicing and he wouldn't move the edge enough for it to do so.
He didn't account for receding adrenaline, or the chill that attacked his bones once he stopped moving. A chill raced when a particular gust caught him just right and shook his arms.
He grimaced and quickly pulled back, dropping the scabbard and still gaining a nice slice down his thumb. Teeth bit his lip in worry as he swooped down and checked the scabbard for any indents or scratches. If hibososan saw just ONE...
It seemed in tact and he breathed a sigh of relief. He cast a quick look to his thumb, finding a sluggish trail heading for his wrist. "Shit. Don't want to make a mess..." He stuck the digit in his mouth, grateful no one was in the vicinity, and peered at the edge. "Damn it...got blood on the blade..." His index moved to wipe it away, but the wound dripped another few and added to the first. "Damn it!"
He scowled at himself and made to use his shirt instead when the barest of whispers came to his ears. In a blink, he froze to listen, breath held. He whipped for the doors, eyes wide, but it was the same as he left it. Brow furrowed, he went to continue when something else stopped him.
In his ears and in his hand was the definite sound and feel of a single, resounding heartbeat.
He yelped and pushed the sword from as if it tried to attack him. Wide eyes stared, watching idly blood inch across the blade. It fell instep with some of the cracks and he absently swore at the impossibility of getting it out.
Another beat gained his attention and fear laced his veins. Utter silence - save rapid breathing and his own heart - filled his ears and the eeriness made him want to turn tail and run. But he couldn't force his legs to move, even when numbness started coming from the position.
"What...what's going on..." He breathed, inching the katana to his face. Details sharpened in his gaze and recognition of seeing this sword - despite the once many years ago - fell like a ton of bricks.
The way he held it was familiar. The crappy, torn metal was familiar. The untying hilt he knew all too well.
He knew this sword!
A rush of wind, almost like a whirlwind directly over his ears, startled him and made more dread come. "What is this??" He shouted, hand unconsciously gripping the sword. He didn't feel his hair blow - this wind was imaginary. His free hand swiped his ears, slapping them in attempt to free himself from whatever was befalling him.
"Yamero! Yamero mou!" He shouted, curling onto himself. Breathing the rate of near hyperventilation sounded, but that was his own at least.
The voices rapidly turning up in volume weren't.
"This katana is your father's memento! Believe in the katana's spiritual power. You must never abandon it!"
-----
"That's your katana isn't it!? I believe in it you see - your power."
-----
"Tessaiga is pulsating!? I can hear it...Tessaiga's heartbeat... This feeling...is completely different to earlier! This is...a tusk!?"
-----
"Pay attention Inuyasha. One swing... Mow down one hundred youkai with one swing!"
-----
"Ah..."
"Wha! With one wave of the sword...a - all the youkai were...blown away."
"Ah?"
"He used the real power of Tessaiga...for the first time..."
-----
"In the end, Tessaiga is just a dog's tusk."
"Tessaiga was..."
"At any rate, it seems that an oni's tusks are better."
"Tessaiga was...broken."
-----
"As I said, Tessaiga's weight is because of your fang's weight. Before Tessaiga broke, it was your oyaji-dono's fang. In short, you were relying on your oyaji-dono to protect you. However, this time Tessaiga isn't like that. You're handling your own fang and protecting yourself. When you can freely swing Tessaiga as it is now...it means you'll have truly become strong."
'What is all this? This sword...Tessaiga... The sword I practiced with...is...this Tessaiga?!'
"OTOTO!"
He jerked from the short flashes of some ancient memory - recognition as real as the sweat on his brow - and brown moved up. His eyes were glassy, breath labored, grip bruising on the hilt. The rough edges ate at soft parts of his hands, but he barely felt pain. He didn't even feel if his thumb was still bleeding, though a small covering on his hand told blood kept dripping.
"Ototo look at me! Take a few breaths!" Hands cupped his face, cooler than his skin and shocking him. He gasped, but didn't have strength to resist movement that put his vision with overly concerned brown.
This onna... She was very close to him in more ways than one. He trusted her. Her smell, looks, and voice was known. His brow furrowed the barest of degrees, trying to sort out fog and confusion in his head.
It took a lot of ordering, but he finally came to the real world and took stock of everything. He still had the sword in his hands, but his grip was bruising, knuckles tight. His legs were cramping and half numb from the crouched position, but locked to prevent easy movement.
Jayden was in the same stance, mindful of the sword, hands attached to his face. Tears lined her eyes and anxiety ran rampant. Teeth gnashed her lip, brow heavily furrowed.
"Nee...chan..." All at once, fingers laxed and the sword clanged on the floor. His body slouched forward to be caught with a surprised cry. Tendrils of loose hair - hair he ended up leaving wild today - fell around and tickled where it touched his arms.
"Ototo shikkari!" Jayden gathered him as much as possible, roughly shoving the rusty katana out of the way to prevent injury. Her arms clenched at the dead weight, eyes widening. "Don't you fall asleep yet! Keep with me ototo! Anata wa dare desu?? Talk to me!"
"Boku...wa..." Brown struggled to open and hazily peered at the wide open shoji. "Boku wa...dare desu?"
His head was too muddled to make things clear. What was his name again? It started with an 'I', but he couldn't remember the kanji spelling. It was like a word on the tip of his tongue, but pronunciation was out of grasp. Brows furrowed, eyes squeezed shut. His body tensed as if to help his brain.
Hands flattened on cold wood and helped keep him conscious. He was exhausted more than practice, as if the sword used his life-force for its own. The skin on one arm stretched and cracked the drying blood on it. He paid no mind and slowly pushed away, forearms trembling, taking in the room as if it had answers.
Weapons, mats, exercise bag, country flags, wood floors, white walls, window slats, shoji door, glass case...
The combination automatically came to him and brown widened. "Inaki...desu. Yamoi Inaki...desu..."
Tears of relief fell as Jayden beamed and eagerly nodded. "Un, un. Atashi no ototo-chan..." She whispered, inching closer.
He stared, taking in her features. She had the same colored eyes, long pitch hair, cheekbones, and slender figure. Her voice was strong and pronounced, like someone else's he knew. Brown squeezed, bangs shadowing his face.
Wild black hair.
Expressive brown eyes.
Beautiful curvaceous figure.
HER.
She was here! In this time...she was still the same! Of all the oddball, dumb luck! A hand gripped his head as a pain in the center flared to life. 'No...she's...that girl is...she's gone...isn't she?'
It was too strange and new and he didn't understand it one bit. Sudden memories played in the blackness of his lids, memories of a spitfire girl who reminded him so heavily of his first love...the girl who became his second...
The girl he lost.
A pressure on his arm made his eyes open. He looked up and warily peered at the girl in front of him. The hair and eyes were the same, but in his soul - in his heart - he knew they weren't the same. This girl was not the one in those memories.
She was someone else, but just as special.
"Come ototo...let's leave here." Quickly, Jayden sheathed the sword, cleaning off as much blood as possible, and set it back in the cases. She clicked the lock and moved to offer a hand.
He looked up, staring at her hand with a childish sense of curiosity. His injured thumb throbbed at being unattended and he stared at it. It needed to get dressed and the blood cleaned - hopefully before okaasan saw and worried.
Okaasan?
His hand slowly clasped hers, a good yank helping him to his feet. He looked down a few inches and innocently blinked. The feel of her pulse against his fingers hit something in his head and the pain lessened a bit. "Jayden...no nee-chan..."
Jayden avidly stared, head slightly tilting in response. It was like he was saying the name to pin her title back on...for her or him was unknown. "Come ototo...ikimasu."
"Aa..." An arm went around his waist and his was draped over her shoulder. He let her half carry him out, stopping only for his sandals. The shoji was left open, but it could be closed later.
He stopped and stared at the house, eyes wide. It was huge! The feeling was old by many decades, but it was home. In his heart, he knew it was.
'Home...'
Warmth invading his heart nearly made tears form, but he steeled himself and continued when Jayden started for the engawa. He slipped from the sandals, not caring they weren't straight, before Jayden released him to shut the patio.
It was a beautiful mix of old and new. The dining section screamed tradition, even if the kitchen was so strange-looking. A far off room looked the same as the dining area and he wanted to go explore it, but the arm returned to his waist.
"Ikimasu...ototo..."
Dumbly, he nodded and was guided past the eating room, onto some sort of fabric, and up a small group of stairs. He took in every possible detail of the hallway, peering in the room at the end. More tatami lined the ground and two oddly shaped beds took up a lot of space. It was so confined and he resisted the first movement to go in.
"Iie."
"Come ototo, listen to your nee-chan."
He paused, frowning at being forced into such a small area, and turned to let the girl know it. An encouraging, soft look met him and the more he stared, the more found himself loosening and finally giving a small nod.
It was almost hard to breathe as they passed the threshold. He never liked closed spaces and claustrophobia threatened worse than before. It was like eyes peering at him and brown jerked this way and that as if being taunted by those unseen.
"Here ototo...here is your bed."
His?
His smell drifted from the mattress and blankets as he was gently helped onto it. It confirmed what she said and for that reason he scooted to the center. He pulled the blankets over, looking at deep maroon and remembering another color that was on.
Brown jerked up and looked about the room as if the object was in visual range.
Where WAS that outfit anyway...
Hands slowly pressed against his shoulders and drew his attention back at hand. "Come ototo," Jayden softly coaxed, "lie down please. Do what your nee-chan says..."
He took her word for it - going on gut feeling - and shifted to horizontal. The covers drew up to his chin, a hand smoothing some bangs from his sight. He stared at her, noting worry and love. Sadness tinged in the lines of her brow, making this girl seem much older than she was.
A hand darted from underneath and grasped a wrist, not forcing her hand away from his face, but not letting it move. He stared, looking at her features again, trying to find more than a vague sense of knowledge.
Jayden forced uneasiness away from that gaze and smiled. "Get some rest ototo-chan. You go ahead and sleep - I'll make sure you're not bothered."
Her hand moved and covered his, methodically prying his fingers from hers. The hand dropped to the mattress and shifted back under the covers.
Jayden walked around and drew the shades to make it easier for him to sleep and stopped at the foot of the bed. She kneeled to self-consciously smooth the covers, feeling bad for being unable to do anything other than this and scared at what was transpiring. "I'll be in the kitchen if you need me ototo-chan."
He absently nodded, watching as she left and quietly clicked the door closed. He stared at the door for what seemed eternity, wondering if she would come back in, before lids became heavier on their own. The trials and everything rushed upon him and his head tilted to one side.
There is always a great battle to end any conflict. The greater the pain and enemy, the harsher one strives to defeat that source of hurt.
If that was so, for what purpose was he seeing every vision from his dreams gathered together in what seemed a battle royal, only drawn in good and bad?
He didn't know the reason for being witness to magic and horror of so many deaths, nor did he have an explanation for being haunted by it. He didn't ask for any of this, but felt drawn and couldn't stop watching. He was frozen in place to keep from cringing at a body that flew to close to his spectral form or running to push one of the good out of the way of sharp teeth or claws.
The first - and only - time he laid eyes on the main enemy, he held a savage dislike that left a bitter taste in his mouth. There was nothing particularly physically threatening about the body, but the aura of malice and prideful, scornful look in painted eyes sickened him. Those were the eyes who considered everything inferior in the worst way and wanted to rid the world of anything they spotted.
Fists clenched as two males and a female waged war, the other two flying off for some odd reason. He watched them fight valiantly, almost synchronized with each other. It was beautiful and breathtaking to watch - pure and honest against a dark stain of the world.
But good and evil wage war and balance to keep from overpowering the other. It is the way of things and he understood that - it was a rule of the Dao - but it was always saddening when evil gains the upper hand for a short time.
He wanted to help - everything in his blood and bones was screaming to run forward and try to do ANYTHING for a diversion. His presence here was mysterious and would offset evil to allow good to gain victory.
But he was not allowed the chance...not allowed to help when he felt the urge to do so.
He studied each, finding the girl and boy who were in his dreams before. The white-haired boy was a constant and he felt recognition like none other spear him. A hand rose as if to gain attention, floating in the air like a specter.
He never witnessed a battle of this magnitude before - not in any of the other dreams which wouldn't let him rest at night. He flinched away from it mentally, wishing to tear his eyes from the blood that spattered the battlefield.
So much waste...so much useless death...
The two girls appeared and shifted the scales. This evil, he soon found, had many cards to play. It was safe to say - after the child fell to the ground, lifeless - he never hated anything in his life more than this despicable creature.
Why? Why couldn't it just die and save these poor souls the agony of its presence?? Why did it cling to life so strongly - why did it hold such a grudge against each of them?
He studied both girls and finding them almost identical, but one in totally different clothing closer to the girl who came to him before. She was here...but why? She was strong, as strong as the others in her own way. Brown avidly watched her every move, wanting to cry out in terror at the sickening pierce of flesh. The white-haired boy raced to her and cradled her to him.
Tears stung his eyes as his legs gave out, nothing felt as knees touched earth. Hands lay useless in his lap as he very clearly picked up their words.
Naze? Why them? They looked so happy...so close...
"You got your revenge...Inuyasha. I completed my duty...and since I had this with me in the beginning...I give it to you...to use as you wish."
"Fuck it! Why are you making mention if it now?!"
"Inuyasha –"
"You're staying quiet. I'm not hearing another word you have to say!"
"I love you...you know that right?"
"You can't leave me!"
His body slouched, blank eyes staring at his hands. So she dies...why did she have to die?
"I'm...sorry, but...I have to..."
"Damn it! Don't do this to me! I FORBID you to leave!"
"This time...you won't be able...to stop me. Please...don't forget me..."
"Ka – Kagome... Don't go..."
His eyes squeezed shut, agony eating his heart. A drop startled his eyes open and he looked to a chaste, beautiful kiss and absently touched his lips, feeling them tingle as if he were doing the act.
He stared at the boy, watching the snow-white head suddenly raise and turn his way. He startled and scrambled backward, eyes wide. He was seen?! How - he was in a dream!
An animalistic growl met the distance, slitted eyes full of emotion. He stared in abject shock, mouth gaping open as the comrades fizzled from sight. The boy stood as black enveloped the scene, their bodies giving an unearthly glow.
Omae...
A blood red outfit - one that tickled his mind to remembrance, but just out of reach right now - stopped at his feet. Gold looked down, pain and anger in their depths. He dumbly stared, unable to get his body to move.
'What...do you want?'
Keh! You KNOW what I want. Clawed hands shot out, shaped to grasp his throat. You made me go through that again. You owe me now. I want my body! She died because of me and now she's back! You think I'm letting that chance escape me AGAIN?!
A gurgle sounded as he tried to speak, to even think. Though they grasped his neck, the hands seemed to steal his very ability to make speech.
Hands grabbed wrists and applied pressure, skills coming to him. 'Y...YAMERO!' He cried, wrenching away. A foot lashed out and gave a sound kick to his stomach before he landed. He cried out against it.
Is THIS what I became...a weakling?! Get up! You're no match for me...if you can't fight me here, you won't stop me anywhere else.
He tried to stumble to his feet, but couldn't get stability with the foot tripping him. His training came again and he rolled a distance, allowing him to stagger to his feet. He assumed a basic fighting stance, body wary for anything.
There was a beat of silence, white bangs shadowing gold, before a throaty chuckle sounded. You think you're going to beat me that way? Fists clenched and blood dripped from the boy's skin. You don't get it do you...you have everything! You got all what I never did! You had your chance to live - it's my turn to finish! Let me have what was mine!
'Do you mean that girl?' The fierce look of the girl notching an arrow and Kalie appeared in front of him. His body stopped as he gawked. 'They're...the same? Masaka!! Kalie's alive! She's nothing like this! Yume yo!'
He was suddenly face-to-face with gold. Another hand wrapped around his throat and hoisted him into the blackness, feet dangling. He gripped the wrist again but couldn't free himself this time. This is as real as my claws digging into your skin. I will NOT be stopped by the likes of you - you who always weakened me one night a month...
Through the pain, brown peeked open and was surprised at finding tears making gold shimmer and intense pain. 'You...loved her...didn't you?'
His adversary scowled, bangs shadowing the view. She's mine. She always was...through so many forms. She came back to me and I screwed up as I always did. Now that I have this chance, you're not going to stop me.
'Yamero...' He pleaded, scratching for air. The view was getting fuzzy and that was not a good thing - even in a dream zone. 'Yamete kudasai!'
"Y...YAMERO!"
He shot up in bed, hands extended to grab, and nearly fell off the futon by offsetting himself.
A hand went to his head as sharp pain exploded. Brown squeezed shut, praying to the gods it would kill him or cease. His other went over his racing heart, taking deep breaths to try and calm it.
'Yume...yume deshita...' But it felt so real! 'Need...some water...' His throat was burning, mouth a desert. Night had come, making him wonder how long he was out and who heard him. He squinted and found Jayden in her bed, back to him. Had she not heard him shouting?? She was a sound sleeper, that was true, that would not save her.
He shook it off, absently throwing the covers off and feeling around for the exit. He wandered the hall to the bathroom and risked throwing the switch. It took a second for eyes to adjust and while they did, he splashed water over his face to banish the unsettling feeling and gulped water from a nearby glass.
He shut the faucet off and quickly dried off. A quick shake to get bangs from skin and a check to see if he missed a spot. He nearly screamed at seeing a vision other than his own glaring at him. Stumbling back and banging his head on the wall, making the pain return, he hissed and peered at the large mirror.
Fucking running away...coward... You were always the weak one!
He tiptoed to the sink, adrenaline allowing his body to run at a second's notice. "What...are you..."
Gold looked less than amused. Stop playing games. You know, so remember.
"Remember what?! What's there to remember? I would certainly remember a brute like you who tried to kill me!" Hands clutched the sink, the knowledge of hearing this voice in his head forgotten in anger.
Gold narrowed dangerously. You think I'll give mercy to the likes of you?? You're who SHE wanted and who I never had to be with the one I failed to protect! I may LOOK like you, but I'm not you!
"I'm not you either..." He replied. Another guttural laugh sounded. "Nani wa?"
White swished as the form moved back a bit. Now I know what she kept going on about... Fucking rich...
He stared in quiet, slowly coming to grips with his sanity as the mirror image seemed to think of something. He took a quick step to the door, hand on the switch. "You won't best me... I don't know who or WHAT you are...but leave me alone!"
You think you can rid yourself of me? You WOKE me!
"I don't care! Go back to where you came and leave me in peace!"
I won't leave now that I know something's going on. I don't have all the details, but you can be sure I'll find them.
His teeth grit. "Leave. Me. Alone." He uttered, malice in his voice. He flicked the light switch off and nearly stalked to his room.
'I'm not crazy. I'm not - I'm not!!' He paced the room, hands on his head, eyes on the floor to prevent tripping. He couldn't make sense of this and that bugged him the most. It wasn't a bad meal torturing him and he definitely didn't do anything to piss the gods off...
There seemed a presence other than Jayden's and he whirled to the doorway, seeing nothing. 'You won't beat me...' He vowed, eyes narrowing. 'Whatever demon or spirit you are, you can go back to the hells that spawned you! This is my life and I just got it back after so much chaos. If you think I'm going to let you take my happiness from me...you're dead wrong!'
The presence remained, but nothing happened. His body slowly relaxed after a while, but feared going to sleep again. He didn't want to risk another encounter. He plopped on his mattress and pulled legs to chest and draped his arms over them. His chin rested on the mass as he stared at the door as if watching and waiting for something to come and attack.
He'd be ready. He was going to fight this with every breath in his body!
I am a BEGINNER Japanese learner...so if these are not 100% correct...please let me know if you care to do so. I only have a web page to learn from, a dictionary, and a few months experience to work with.
Translations: Dare-Who (is it) Mezamerimasu-Wake up Jidai-Age/Era Yamero mou-Stop it already Oyaji-dono-Polite way of saying father Anata wa dare desu-Who are you
Boku wa- I am Boku wa...dare desu?-Who am I? Un-Kind of like hai/aa/ee Atashi no ototo-chan-My little brother Ikimasu-Let's go/We're going Omae-Rude form of you
Masaka-It can't be Yume yo-It's a dream Yamete kudasai-Please stop it Yume...yume deshita-A dream...it was just a dream