AN: hello everyone! I am currently writing this little authors note in the back seat of a car on the way to Washington. For much of my life, I really never liked laptops. But now, I see the beauty of them….because you *can* take them everywhere! My dad is now worried that it will be raining and snowing once we reach the mountains, and really, I can' blame him…because, well, hey, I am a new driver as well. ^_^;
Anyways, enough of this mindless ramblings. Chapter ten was happily beta-read by obi and my pal khuu-chan. Thanks so much you two rock! ^_~ *smooch*
Shadows Against a Shoji Screen
Chapter 10
Blown By the Winds of Chance
The horses' hooves pounded through the moist dirt, beginning to become dry on its most exposed vistas. Its color was that nearly of rouge, or a cedar tree. Glancing around and guiding the horse through the overgrown mountain path, Kagome gazed off into the distance at what she could see. The sun would soon rise from east, yet only the beginnings of pink and the faintest of gold appeared at the horizon. Kagome, accompanied only by one servant, had been traveling for the past three days. It was only when exhaustion and overgrown roads allowed her to go no farther that she rested.
This wife of Inuyasha was well aware that her actions were ludicrous—she was a noble woman, one that should not be allowed outside of the beautiful pavilion. Yet, Kagome was also aware that her husbands' kingdom now bordered on destruction and internal revolts if she did not make any obvious efforts to help.
The path had now turned downward, the summit having been reached some ten minutes ago, and slowly she and her servant made their way down the mountain, and into the lands her husband ruled.
Taking her map from her pocket, she consulted its now worn edges. Only a small amount of this prefecture had been printed, and its roads and byways few and far-between. Suppressing an irritated sigh, she nudged the mare forward, and down into the fertile seaside valley of the Shizuoka prefecture.
"So this is our alliance…and to the east and west lays our enemies."
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Great ominous clouds poured into the city of Fukushima. Although beautiful and brilliant in their entire array—and a blessing for farmers as well, Inuyasha could not help but feel a little downtrodden as he walked through the still deserted streets of midmorning. Studying their dark depths, which reminded him of an angrily tumultuous sea, his expression changed from that of the neutral to a melancholy guise.
Glancing about, he hurried into the inn in which he and Miroku were now staying. This was to be their last day in Fukushima—only one last dignitary to visit in the vicinity. It was not as though he was unhappy about this turn of events—it was just that Kai's information and Kaede's words still hung fresh in his mind. Naraku would be a useful alley—and yet, could he really trust Kikyou's younger sister? He had inklings whom Kaede still blamed for the death of such a beloved kin…and so, was her information trustworthy? Or even truthful? Yet, Naraku would allow him to quickly and easily slice the cause of his torture through the center, and allow the world to be reshaped, and perhaps, his happiness to return.
Despite the darkness of the environment, the gray light had the opposite effect in the inn, giving it a luminous and airy appearance. It being but early morning at most, the room was unusually absent of people.
Unlike most inns in Fukushima, this one was blessed with a small pleasing garden. It was sparsely ornamented, consisting mostly of light sand colored gravel, and scattered mosses and Camilla bushes (now in full bloom). A great Japanese maple had been placed in the corner some years ago, its trunk marked with scars of young children, and now long dead growth. Its large branches, flecked with green, enclosed this space like a protective mother.
Inuyasha made his way across the dining hall and onto the exterior porch, where Miroku was now chewing idly on some rice crackers.
His companion glanced up, slightly choking on the salty condiment, and smiled, "Good morning."
Ignoring the greeting, Inuyasha plopped down onto the worn tatami mats and poured himself a cup of tea, "This is the last day in Fukushima."
Nodding, Miroku acknowledged, though perhaps not in the expected manner, "Mmhm…"
The two were quiet for a moment. Since they had left Inuyasha's fortress, both, though Miroku openly expressed it, were aware of the lack of warmth and utter disappearance of the convivial quality. It was not as though each had grown tired of the company—but the fact remained that when traveling, three was better than two were. The third could make merriment, and divert them from their dark thoughts.
Ever since the two had left the stronghold, their demeanor and attitude had become rather lacking. Inuyasha was more often than not moody or irritable—and although Miroku was used to his moods, he could not help being aware that it was different this time around. As though there was another cause to his anguish.
Miroku had mentioned to Inuyasha, on their last night in Tokyo, that his wife should be sent for. Although he had spoken no more of this matter, he was well aware that it was slowly eating away at Inuyasha—day by day by day Miroku witnessed the erosion of his sturdy frame.
Inuyasha coughed slightly, as though he meant to say something. Perhaps, pondered Miroku, chewing idly on the rice cracker again, this was the moment he had been waiting for? Perhaps.
"You know…" Inuyasha began unsteadily, as he usually did when discussing members of the opposite sex. With war, he was a genius. With women, a bumbling fool. "I was thinking that since we are far away from Edo…" He paused again, swallowing saliva that had formed in his mouth, "That perhaps we may invite Kagom—my wife."
Smiling gently, Miroku chuckled, though not cruelly, "I think that is a fine idea."
Inuyasha avoided Miroku's amused glare, and although a flush came to his lord's cheeks by the attention, Miroku observed that suddenly the mood seemed brighter because Kagome would soon be joining his lord's side. If Kagome had not been bound to Inuyasha'a side, Miroku found the prospect of the young free spirited girl quite satisfying one indeed. She held a joy for life, and an interest for all things. She was unique in a word of replicas. Ordering tea, the two remained in silence. For the past days, the only subject had been that of Naraku—who and what he was, and the word from the west. So far, everything was calm. Although, as Inuyasha liked to point out daily, the world was too calm in such an age of warfare.
People rotted by the sides of the road, their mutilated bodies' inhabitant by animals and the lower life of the world. Their eyes gazed unseeingly about, desperate to return to the world they had once known—though no longer able. Children's first memories would be of great fire, of screams, of sobs—was this such a way to live life?
"Well," Miroku finally breathed after a while, "I suppose I should write a letter…to your wife, that is. I should inform her to meet us in the next town, correct?"
It took him a while to respond, as though something very old and dated was playing in his mind. An image without an emotion.
"Uh, yes."
She was like a ghost who could not rest. She would suck the soul out of him yet; this Kikyou…
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Slowly, and carefully, she descended from her horse outside a fortress constructed of large timbers, their bark worn and faded by the long days and wet nights. The construction seemed to have taken place many years ago, for large mossy and grassy hills had grown up and about the wood, as though it was slowly sinking into the earth. About a quarter of a mile away was a small stream where her servant had gone to water the horses. Soon he would return, and once again, her Japanese would be perfect, her movements graceful. So, in actuality, she only had a few well chosen moments, ten minutes at most, to plan, plot and be informed of all the happenings in this prefecture.
In an airy yukata (Yuki had suggested that she travel informally. And although Kagome had first thought of this course of action it was firmly decided against it—until someone else suggested the thought to her, that is) she descended her horse, and made her way towards the building.
The soil inside the compound was dusty, and squeezing through the partial openings of the great doors, her breath caught in her throat. Bringing her hands to her mouth, she struggled to keep a sob within her body.
Row after row after row after row of mounds met her eyes. There could be no mistaking their purpose; they were graves, graves for people she might have known, and perhaps might have cared for. Yet, only immense sorrow greeted Kagome. She had arrived too late; too late to be of any use, too late to use her power. It was bitterly painful, as though knife had been angrily jabbed into her gut. Struggling for support, she leaned against the wooden wall, and breathed a deep shuddering sigh. Closing her eyes, she felt moisture on her lashes as well as that on her forehead. Despite the fact that she lived in a feudal age, she had never grown used to death.
The entire world had stopped; and for how long, she was not quite sure. All she knew was that the next time she opened her eyes was when a gentle feminine voice caught her ears, questioning dully, yet bravely at the same time, "Excuse me…"
Flushing, and hurriedly wiping the tears from her eyes, she mumbled, "Uh, yes. I am…uh, I am," she tried desperately of a way to think of how she could put this delicately. She was the wife of their leader; the leader who had fed them to the wolves of this masked demon.
"You're Inuyasha's bride." The girl stated. It was not a question, or perhaps it was. Grief and exhaustion were now battling for control. Yet, formality was the rules in situations such as these. Kagome rallied her spirits relatively well, and replied, "Yes, I am his wife. Unfortunately, he is away…and I do not know where. I took it upon myself to visit this area." Pausing again, she examined the girl for the first time. She was perhaps a year or two older than Kagome. As far as her own sex went, she was a traditional image—she had long dark hair, whether black of umber Kagome could not tell in this light. Her eyes matched her hair, although flecks of gold were evident in them—and considering the situation, they shone with great vigor. Her attire was traditional in design, and this suited her.
"My name is Kagome." Kagome gushed, bowing deeply, and then she added, "I am extremely sorry for your loss. If only I had known…."
The girl gazed at her for a moment, as though she was judging her character. Her eyes grew hazy and her countenance cold.
Thankfully, she seemed to have passed whatever test had taken place, and a moment later, and the girl responded, "There is nothing you—or even Inuyasha-sama could have done. He was too powerful—and we played right into his hands. My name is Sango—I am by profession a youkai exterminator."
"I…see." Kagome stuttered slightly, and then continuing hurriedly, "Who is this person that you speak of? How did this come about—and why does it seem that this attack is so sudden?"
Sango glanced over Kagome's shoulder and studied the servant who was walking back with the dapple-gray horses and shrugged slightly, before murmuring softly, "Come inside. There is much to tell. Even I have not digested this truth yet…"
Glancing behind her, Kagome found great clouds forming in the east.
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Leaning against a wall, his head reclined, Miroku tried to figure out how exactly he was going to write this letter. It was not as though he could be too triumphant—but it would be a loss to be too kindhearted all the same. His face formed an _expression of deep concentration, and he put his hand up to his chin, and contemplated how best to go about this whole process.
He would have to show it to Inuyasha, and so there could be no inkling of a doubt that Miroku and Kagome had previously planned these arrangements. Inuyasha would have to think that he was benefiting his poor wife—he had to be under the impression that these turn of events were the cause of his intellect and his alone.
Dipping the brush in a pool of deep purple ink (he had come upon this frivolity in Edo) his hand hovered over the washi paper for a time, before decidedly, with swift and strong strokes, bore down on the paper to write this correspondence to his mistress.
It took him no more than two minutes at most, and his pen only needed to be submerged but four or five times. Finally, with a gleaming eye and an accomplished grin, he gazed down at the paper and checked his kanji for errors.
Kagome-sama
Inuyasha-sama has requested that you join us in Sendai and expect your arrival in three days time. Currently, we are staying in Fukushima; and have visited Ashikaga, Tomukamachi, Nagaoka, Kouriyama as we do every year. Send no word of your refusal—for we have much to inform you.
Although he would not admit this to be a finer work of his pen, the purpose was clean, and the meaning great. Despite what Japanese society demanded—he found it better to stare people in the eye, and make all purposes clear. In such a day in which he lived, there could be no miscommunication of any kind. The risk was too great. The cost of lives always bearing down upon his heart, like a dream he could never awake from. There had been a hook to draw her in—for indeed, there was much to inform her of, even if Inuyasha did not take this responsibility. Kagome, his wife and co-ruler of the eastern lands of Inuyasha had a right to know of the actions that concerned her well being, and damn it if Naraku was not one.
When the door slid open to his private chamber, he glanced up in curiosity, which was ignited even more to find the young mistress of the Inn present herself.
"Yes?" Miroku asked richly, admiring her petty eyes and petite figure.
The girl seemed ill at ease, and reaching from within an apron she was wearing, she withdrew a damaged letter.
"This just arrived for you." She explained, handing it to his still reclined form. Miroku, eyeing the paper carefully found a few words and the style of script very familiar. Dismissing the girl, but hoping for later delights, he hurriedly opened the letter. The envelope seemed damaged, as though many hands before had touched its thin paper boundaries. There were smudged of dirt, and even a few drops of ink.
Unfolding the clean thick mulberry paper from within, Miroku had not an inkling of what he might read. The room was quiet for perhaps a minute, and then, swiftly, he took great steps, and hurried out into the hall, and in the direction of the veranda where Inuyasha was lazily reading a book.
The day had turned gray, although patches of a glorious blue sky were sometimes caught as they danced in and about the clouds. Trying to choose his words carefully, and with the greatest precaution, Miroku stepped towards Inuyasha'a reclined and relax frame.
"Inuyasha-sama," he began quietly, sitting across the round table from his friend.
The hanyou glanced up, a look of childlike innocence resting on his features. Inuyasha had perhaps, for a period of ten or twenty minutes, allowed himself to fall back into peace; to fall back into laziness; to return to an innocence which for so many years had lingered in the shadows.
"Yes?" Yet, that innocence had gone now; the hanyou had detected the fear and agitation in Miroku, and had sprung alive into a defensive mode, "What is it?"
Saying not a word, Miroku handed the letter to Inuyasha and allowed him to decipher it on his own. As he waited for a response, Miroku thought, She had to run away, didn't she? Goddamn it, I was so close, and now we are back to square one. I will probably have to go get her—leaving Inuyasha alone. In this state, what with Kagome and Naraku, he will probably do something foolish. And here…there is no one to stop him…
"Miroku," Inuyasha began quietly, subdue, yet anger and shock eminent in his voice, his silver hair cast over his features giving him a deranged and bloodthirsty look, "You know what you must do."
Slightly taken aback, Miroku stammered, "And what is that, my lord?"
It was strange, this reaction he had, although it was not what he expected; perhaps he truly was beginning to care for the girl, and anger rather than concern overpowered and guided his judgment. Yet, on the other hand, this could be the calm before the storm…perhaps soon lightening would strike, and then the thunder—and all would be as it should be. There would be no ambiguity in his feelings—there would be respect; and past this nothing more.
"You must go after her, and bring her back." Inuyasha sighed, crumpling the letter in one hand, and throwing it into the fire. "What the fucking else am I supposed to do? I certainly can't go!"
"I realize this—," Miroku began pensively, watching as the edges turned umber and soon after that a deep black, their limits trimmed with scarlet and ginger.
"You must go!" Inuyasha spat, rising suddenly, "I have an appointment this afternoon. It is not my duty to go and chase after her—we are both tied to this marriage against our will, it is not my place and will to go and get her."
These are lies, you know this Inuyasha. Although you do not love her or perhaps even like her…you respect her, and she deserves your concern no matter how much you try to revert your feelings to what they once were. There is no turning back from this girl, my lord…
"My lord…"
Inuyasha stepped forward, a great wind from the storm wrestling his hair, his eyes angry and aflame with fire, "Dare you question my word?"
So, it was back to these games, eh? "Of course not. However, what of this appointment? Will you be fine by yourself?"
The fire had died, and now just annoyance remained, "I used to do this long before you came into my services. Don't you think me capable?"
He did—but Naraku was insidious, after all. "There is Naraku…"
"We do not know the truth of it—we have heard both good and bad accounts—,"
"—My lord, reconsider!" Miroku found himself struggling in vain. Was this his friend he had known through the years? The hanyou who would not allow himself to be blinded by the common tongue, and the myths and legends of the proletarians? All he had heard of this Naraku was troubling…his motives and methods were too…too sharp. Would Inuyasha blindly cut his throat for such revenge?
"I will be on my guard, don't worry. I am not as big as idiot as you take me for." The hanyou lord now walked to the front of the hotel and exchanged a few hurried words to the mistress before walking in Miroku's direction, "Now, you must leave, and I must make my way for Shinikagi's residence."
Deciding it was better not to say anything; Miroku swiftly bowed and made his way to his room to prepare for his journey. Somehow, these turn of events seemed too planned, too perfect. This was a trap, damn it, and Inuyasha was blinded by his lust for war and could not see it. If Miroku did not return quickly, he hypothesized that when he returned, Inuyasha would be beyond his reach—blinded by an angry fury; being completely controlled by the mysterious hand that guarded the south.
"I hope you have a good trip; send word as soon as you arrive. Who knows what tricks my brother plays," Inuyasha parted, resting against the entrance to the Inn, watching in hurried anticipation as he mounted the horse.
"Take care of yourself as well—don't do anything without consulting me first." Miroku warned, meeting Inuyasha's eyes; trying to convey the pit in the stomach, he held.
"Get out of here—and don't take advantage of too many girls!" Inuyasha commanded playfully, shooing him away.
As he quickly sped down the street, Miroku thought darkly that Inuyasha had not even mentioned the second piece of parchment with in the letter. Never once had the prefecture of Shizuoka been mentioned. Whether it was intentional, or not, Miroku could not guess.
Casting one last glance, as though this would be the last time he would see his lord in a great while, he kicked the horse and set off in search for Kagome. The storm blew in, and a great longing touched his heart. Scowling, he urged the steed faster, as though this action could save him from the drops that began to fall from the sky.
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The atmosphere in the quiet room was more peaceful and pleasant. The fresh graves outside the door seemed not exist; the sunlight penetrated the screens as though saying, 'Happiness lies within these walls'. Moreover, perhaps, Kagome thought sadly, they did exist at one time. Now this Sango, this solitary girl, was left to carry the burden and anger with her life a great weight her whole life.
Glancing nervously up, Kagome studied the girl whose hospitality she was convivially enjoying. Sango's hands were bruised and bloody—for, no doubt, the girl had dug each grave herself; her blood, sweat and tears mingling with her family and loved ones.
Sipping the simple earthy tea, Kagome murmured, "Do you wish to travel with me back to the fortress? Perhaps something may be done—contact with my husband may have been reached."
The girls' dark strong eyes met her, and Sango answered with reserved firmness, "I wish for nothing more than revenge—for my sister, for my family…for everyone."
Kagome was confused, and yet impressed at the same time by her actions; "Do you know who has done this?"
"There are only two possible people…one of which I doubt very much would be this cruel." Sango informed Kagome, as she stood up and brought a basin of water and a towel to ease her tired and bruised hands. "The first of which is Sesshoumaru, the lord of the western lands—but his intentions do not lie in killing innocent people. He has a grudge to bear against his brother, and only wishes for what he claims are his."
Watching her closely, Kagome questioned hurriedly, aware that she was grossly uninformed of the whole situation, "Who is his brother?"
"You mean, you do not know of the relation?"
"I was never told." Kagome replied, shame flushing her cheek. At this moment, she was painfully aware of how clueless she was regarding the world and perhaps, everything as well. What was truth? What was lies? A great longing engulfed her, as she wished to for once to be a commoner, to see the world as they did. To see the passing of the seasons for something more than perhaps the winter and summer fashions of Kyoto—to see the world as it slowly matured, died, and was reborn.
"I imagine you weren't. With power comes strength, but often the potential is unknown—and this…" Sango paused, choosing her hers with great care, "This inhibits the possibility."
Chuckling, Kagome agreed, and let this acquaintance continue. She was the novice in such a situation, and she had but to learn—and then perhaps, she hoped, all that could would become clear.
"Sesshoumaru is Inuyasha's step brother. Yet, their history is troubled one." Sango paused; the topic seemed to bring her into a better mood. The fact that death was not lurking in both the shades and light was a comfort, "If you saw the two, I have been told, it would become apparent. They look nearly the identical in most respects; except for the fact that Inuyasha is a hanyou and Sesshoumaru prides himself in being a full blooded youkai."
Settling herself into a comfortable position, she allowed the history of her husband to wash over her. The strife of the two brothers and the anguish of the past…
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Had there ever been a demon that could unite the bloody past between the youkai and the humans, it was Inuyasha's father. Like a sudden wind from the east, his actions were unheard of and audacious in every respect. Although not everyone had agreed to the way that this lord acquired what he desired, it was a consensus that in the end, his dealings would help bring about a new day and age. One everyone wished for…
When he died suddenly some ten years after the death of his second wife, a human, the country mourned for the loss. Happiness faded like the frost touched blooms soon to be forgotten as the cold and cruel reality of winter set in. War once again engulfed the land, and hope was driven out suddenly like a flame in the rain.
Inutaisho's first wife, a demon, had died in childbirth. All had agreed that her sacrifice was well called for. Surely, the son of Inutaisho would grow up the same as his father, the same strong spirit and wise and contemplative personality. For a demon, the young Lord Sesshoumaru's mother had been extraordinarily beautiful. She was powerful in her own right, yet more in tune with the working of the earth more so than her husband. Yet, everything about her was striking and refined. It was expected that if a girl was ever to be conceived that perhaps a bond between a noble house of human and the youkai could be made. Peace might have been grabbed like a glinting piece of fruit off a tree.
Therefore, when the delicate female demon had died, the setback was indeed great. Nobody had expected such a cunning and ruthless demon to actually shed tears for such a loss. For humans, most perceived demons without emotion. The news had traveled fast, and slowly amends were made.
Sesshoumaru had grown up quickly, well aware of the civil unrest about him. This soon to be great lord had risen to the challenge of unifying the humans and demons. For much of his life, this was his goal. However daunting, his words were simple and strait forward; untangling the most hopeless of situations, and there had been great hopes indeed.
Some twenty years later when word had been sent to Sesshoumaru (still but a young boy in demon years at the time) that his father and lord had taken up a human wife, all the hope and efforts that the young boy had made towards his shining goal had fallen, like ashes to the ground. A new child emerged, one who spoke little, and whose attitude was indeterminate. Sesshoumaru had remained that way for perhaps the last thirty years…a cold and emotionless youkai. The condition only worsened when Inuyasha had been born. Sesshoumaru's opinion of his half-brother was well known. People now questioned if peace was attainable, when their benefactors had civil unrest within their family.
Time wore on, slowly and steadily, and the world returned to the way it once had. Humans and demons held their grudges and crosses to bear, and the eyes of the elderly looked upon the world in the same way a grasshopper did. A way to survive from day to day, and then nothing more…
On that terrible midsummer's day, all had fallen. Inuyasha's mother had died, and Inuyasha had been forced to watch her brutal murder. Even more trouble was to come that year, when to everyone's shock and indignation the great lord had fallen, and died in battle. A heroic battle, yet one nonetheless the great lord had died. The lands had been painfully split apart, and the two brothers resided in comfort and isolation for many long years. As the years passed, resentment in the west grew towards the east, where the prized jewel of his father resided. The sword of legend…the sword with the power to kill many indeed. Sesshoumaru, now the lord of the eastern lands, longed to feel its cool metal in his hands, and often devoted much time in studying the archives of its use.
Yet, Inuyasha would not budge, and instead, when still a teenager, he left his fortress under the cover of darkness and had managed to elude Sesshoumaru's grasp. It was only until some twenty-odd years of so, that Inuyasha returned to his domain and claimed himself as ruler of the eastern lands. As far as nobility were concerned, he was as generous and as bloodthirsty as his father. Moreover, to even his own surprise, his land had flourished under his careful and watchful eye.
Yet, during one summer, it was rumored that something had altered in Inuyasha's countenance. Something dark and mysterious had enveloped him, and it remained. A presence, whether good or bad it was not known, yet none the same it remained at all times. Some had thought that Inuyasha had finally realized the warriors life, and was soon to loose his bloom and radiance as his half brother had done. Yet, only the women were closer to reality. Inuyasha, the great lord of the eastern lands, had fallen tragically in love—and her spirit remained wrapped about the hanyou's heart for much longer then time could tell…
After that eventful summer, the wars had begun. A new rage had filled Inuyasha's form, and Sesshoumaru was happy to comply. For, anything that brought him closer to his precious sword was well worth the effort. Sesshoumaru had yet to learn love, some said. Nevertheless, when the action would inevitably take place, the outlook and continence of the lord of the western lands would change—hopefully for the better, and the bloodshed would discontinue.
It was perceived that this summer's battle held greater risks then usual. There was news of the mysterious 'Naraku', but there was also the astonishing fact those after years of solidarity, Inuyasha had taken a bride. A human bride. For political reasons, yes, but nonetheless the possibility of an heir loomed on the horizon, like the sun waiting to spread its rays across the rain-engorged land…
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"It is now rumored that Sesshoumaru has traveled to the south, and spent a period of three weeks at an unknown mountain residence." Sango, finished, her posture more relaxed and informal.
Yet, Kagome could not notice this, for the pieces were already beginning to slowly fit together. From the limited information that she had managed to obtain, along with the outrageous acts of Inuyasha on that fateful spring day…
It dawned upon her, quite suddenly, that Inuyasha had mistaken her for his past lover.
However, this could not be possible. The resemblance could not be that great, after all, she was not even related to this mysterious woman. She could not resemble a woman of the past so much. No, Kagome thought desperately, it had to be a mistake brought on by lack of sleep…
Yet, already the thought possessed her and clung tight without mercy. Closing her eyes, and bringing her hands to her temples to hide her pretty face, she realized that her marriage was doomed. More so than it had been ten minutes ago…Kagome shuddered terribly when she acknowledged that if there could have been any hope between the two of them, it now fell off to the sides. When Inuyasha glanced at her, she knew what his golden eyes. He saw the living embodiment, however implausible, of a love and life that he had once had. Inuyasha saw her as this Kikyou…and would continue to until her death… Her thoughts and idea's would never fully reach potential, for the one unfortunate reason that she was similar in appearance…
"Are you alright?" Sango questioned, bending foreword, her dark eyes clouded with worry.
"Yes," she managed to respond, and forcing down a scream, she finished, "I am…fine."
"Would you like that bath now? You look very pale…"
Amusing, Kagome thought darkly, her lips forming a thin troubled line, that the pale-skinned was the fashion of the season…
"Yes…I believe I will take you up on the offer." Kagome whispered apologetically, her form seeming sallow and wispy, "I am sorry for this trouble. I am not living up to my reputation, I suppose."
"There is nothing to forgive. These are troubled times…"
An: hey, this chapter took me a while to get out, didn't it? I had it all written, but then the computer died, and I had to wait like 3 weeks. That was annoying. Then! I go to Washington and try to load it up there! Not a good idea…*sigh* and so…yeah…it uploaded wrong and then I had to change it on my aunte computer—and she did not have the right word program (don't ask me how).
Next chapter…!
Action! Sesshoumaru! Kagome! Kidnapping! Enemies become allies!
Sound interesting enough?
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