Inutori: This will be a bit stranger than my other stuff.
Sagi: I don't even know if I'll want to read it. But Inutori doesn't own Inuyasha or the picture that inspired this one-shot.
Inutori: I discovered a site put together by an Inuyasha fan (http:www . grey-space . net / kns /) where there are some really cool fan pictures posted. The artist is amazing and it is definitely worth checking out, though it mostly focuses on Miroku and Sango.
Miroku: What's so bad about that?
Inutori: This fic is going to be a bit darker than other things I've written, but not as dark and dreary as some things out there. It just doesn't have the sugary frosting a lot of my stories have.
Spider Webs
They were everywhere. The stringy white nothingness that arachnids weaved so boisterously. Underneath this eerie blanket created through an illusion was the ghost of a nightmare from long ago.
Demons and a sole human lay dead, their corpses preserved by the strange ethereal existence of the webs binding them.
This is where she found her sanctuary. A cursed place; surely no one would look there to find a supposedly cursed girl.
That is what they called her: cursed. To them she was nothing more than the dirt they trod on. She was merely a toy for their vile desires and drunken wishes. But they were sorely wrong about her. Never would she be their slave or footstool.
Voices outside her wretched safe-haven filtered through the cracks in the rotting wood, filling her senses with dread. No. They would not find her here. Not now, nor ever again.
After waiting for the sounds to taper off into the cold night, the distraught refugee pulled herself up from her crouch on the floor. She looked around her for what seemed like the first time.
The cold, blood-colored, lifeless eyes of a demon stared back at her, its black hair framing the youkai's pale face. Trying to suppress her fear, she stood up fully and looked around the shredded room.
She had known of this place for as long as she could remember and had known of young boys who dared venture inside. They had never returned. Just like her, this place was cursed.
An image flashed before her eyes.
It must have been herself, but she looked a few years younger, throwing something large through the air and hitting a demon. The object lodged itself into the rafters above and she could feel her suprise, as it was supposed to have returned.
Her gaze traveled up towards the ceiling, a cold chill racing down her spine at the sight of that ivory-colored object decorating the room like a chandelier would. The thing didn't look quite the same, but that was probably because of years of being out of use. It was more brown and rotted in color than the image in her mind, but she could tell that they were one and the same.
Breathing was a little shaky for some reason, and she realized that she was afraid of this place. It was unexplainable, but the dread that filled her heart was almost as much as it had been when they were looking for her.
Despite the horror implanted by her surroundings, her eyes continued to wander. Her breath caught as she laid eyes on a man lay with his back against the wall, his head hanging laxly to one side and his arms pulled out to leave his chest vulnerable.
She was pressed against his chest, her kimono slipping from fighting so frantically without the proper attire. His eyes were partially glazed over, but he looked up at something behind her. From her kneeling position, she turned and looked in horrific sorrow at their enemy.
A hand pressed against her forehead and she walked toward the man. The clothes that should have covered his torso were ripped to shreds, leaving only a few scraps of material; the lower half of his robes were in a marginally better condition. The only thing still covered was his right forearm and palm, alone. What shielded the arm was a gauntlet wrapped with a string of bluish colored beads.
What was the significance of those beads? She knelt down in front of the shell of a man and reached out to touch the smooth spheres circling his wrist. The hand was retracted almost instantly.
In fear she watched him cry out in pain, the beads jangling merrily in his left hand, which held his right arm firmly pointed away from himself or her. Everything was being sucked in, including the strange, giant wasps that dove at him.
"Who are you?" Her soft voice came out as almost a whimper and she realized she was running her small fingers along his jaw. He looked untouched, as if whatever had happened had only occurred that day. His right cheek looked as if the bloody cut had only just stopped bleeding and his chest looked like it hadbarely started to scab over.
She longed for his skin to be soft to her touch. Oh how she longed for him to open those eyes and look at her. Not daring to remove him from his grave on the wall, she laid her head on his firm chest, closing her eyes and pretending she could hear his steady heartbeat.
The window beside her let in the light of the full moon, allowing her to turn and take in more of the dastardly massacre before her. This place was death itself. That was all she could think of to describe it.
A girl in a foreign kimono sighed deeply and looked at her, a tear rolling down her cheek. She let go of the silver hair of a demon that lie dead with the others in the confining space. "Why did we have to live?" She looked back down at the demon at her feet, then rose, trying to stand strong. Her body began to sparkle and suddenly she started to fade. She let out a gasp and looked up, about to say something, before disappearing entirely, leaving only one survivor in the room of terror.
Another sigh escaped her as she leaned back on the dead corpse and looked over to see the expected silver hair of a young demon male lying on his back with one arm torn to shreds and deep cuts covering his body.
"Who am I?"
A glistening in the faint light drew her attention to a small object lying haphazardly on the wooden floor, a chain attached to it to make it into some sort of necklace. Its surreal glow led her over to it.
She crawled on her hands and knees, her curiosity driving her further towards the seemingly familiar object.
She picked it up and fingered it in her hands, its warm feel soothing her despite the death surrounding her. This all seemed so familiar to her, so why couldn't she remember it?
"Because that was my wish." The words escaped her mouth before she even realized it. What was her wish? To remember this horrid place?
She was lacking something in her life, she always had been. Is this forsaken place where it was?
A smile reached her lips. It was because she left him here.
Where were these thoughts and words coming from? She didn't understand. This place was supposed to be her sanctuary from the drunkards outside who wanted to use her body, not a key to some unknown memory.
But she realized that this was not a memory. It was her life. She closed her eyes, as if remembering something painful, but her mind was completely blank.
Perhaps…
If a wish had done this, another wish would reverse it? She had lost things here that were desperately treasured, and now she wanted to know what they were. What had she lost?
"I wish to have back the precious thing that I lost in this place." It was as simple as that. And if it didn't work, she would feel foolish for even trying. Fortunately, no one was there to witness her stupidity.
The room filled with light and the object in her hands burned, forcing her to quickly drop it to the floor with a small yelp. Everything dimmed again and her heart stopped when she realized that they had probably spotted the light. She felt herself sink into the floor, wishing the torment would end.
If only she had someone to protect her from those dirt covered paws that grabbed at her. She desperately longed for someone who was willing to stand up for her against them. There was only so much she could do by herself.
"Sango-sama?"
A jolt ran through her entire body as she heard that voice and name. She turned around, eyes locking with blue-violet ones. Though he was still covered in the spider webs, he was no longer up against the wall.
"What happened to you, Sango-sama?" He started to crawl towards her and she quickly jumped to her feet and backed away.
She knew him, but she couldn't remember his name. What was his name?
"You've changed." He looked down at himself, picking slightly at his shredded top. "I need to change." He smiled at what must have been a joke he had made.
"Sango-sama, you're a special girl…" He held her hands tightly, as if letting go meant death itself. The talking didn't stop, and he didn't break eye contact with her. "Will you live with me and bear my children?" She answered yes without hesitation, a smile overwhelming her features and her heart flying. "Even ten or twenty?" Again her answer came without delay. Her cheerful yes to his proposal.
Her name was Sango. The realization hit her like a brick. She could only remember being called "girl" before, but suddenly she knew. There was no doubt in her mind that she was Sango.
His name. What was his name? She loved him dearly. She had lost him. She had lost everything. She had wished to forget everything in hopes of being happy. How could she have been happy without her love?
Tears filling her eyes, she ran at the man and dove into his chest, burying her face in his bare chest. Unlike before, when he had been up against the wall, his skin was warm to the touch and she could hear his heart pounding.
"Miroku!"
I
Do
Not
Sleep
Inutori: That turned out rather…interesting, if I do say so myself…Well, I'd really like feedback. I know more people read this than actually acknowledge me by reviewing…I'm on almost as many author's alerts list as I have reviews for all of my stories. That almost makes me cry. No one wants to tell me they like my story :cries in corner for a moment: Please review, it makes me so happy. And it gives me inspiration to write. More reviews means that I'll hopefully be able to finish up some of my other stories here soon. After all, I hope to finish My Professor & I soon. Can't have that dragging on forever. And I want to finish I Am A Pirate soon too. Well, now that I've ranted, ja ne, minna-san!
PS. A reviewer asked me why Sango didn't just wish Miroku back in the first place, and the answer is that she wasn't thinking clearly at the time. When she was first dealing with everybody's death, all she could think about was forgetting all of it in hopes that she could be happy, knowing that she would never be happy if she could remember all that transpired. She probably didn't realize that the jewel had the power to bring Miroku back to life is all. Thank you!