AN: In my opinion, I got this chapter out quick, after a person's comments make since. To paraphrase, she said, "Don't take too long on the chapters because people forget what happens." Well, I am somewhat following her advice and taking advantage of NOT having writers block! Anyways, I apologize for any spelling or grammar mistakes, seeing as how this chapter has not been beta-read. I didn't have the patience to wait for them, so I decided to just update! Yatta! Anyways, this chapter only has three scenes and comparatively it is pretty short. But, oh well. This story (Shadows Against the Shoji Screen) is going to be composed of three parts. The Beginning or titled "Life" the Middle, titled "Love" and the end, titled "War". Now, currently, we are in part two of the story that deals with more with romance and human relations. This web will play through to part III when the end comes and we see who ends up with who. So, you S/K and IY/K fans just stay tune, and jump to NO presumptions! (Oh, did I mention that I am planning on writing an afterward and a sequel to this story?)
Anyways, also, hopefully my Japanese dictionary gave me the correct word for "life" because I let Inuyasha speak a bit of Japanese! Woo hoo! (I give the translation at the end.)
Shadows Against a Shoji Screen
Chapter 13: A child's Toy
The calm and serene face moved and contorted ever so slightly as Inuyasha awoke from his deep slumber. His eyes remained golden for the first second, but then the pupils' dilated so as to absorb the weak light. Yet, there was confusion in his golden orbs. His slightly parted lips twitched, and a groan escaped from his throat.
Gasping in alertness and concentration, Inuyasha bolted from under the purple blanket and studied the room. All was quiet and undisturbed. The candle flicked in the corner, highlighting strange shadows on the walls and sparse furniture.
His clawed hands reached attentively for his head, and shivering, he ran his fingers through his damp hair.
It took him a full minute to recall all that had happened—where he was, why he was here. His memories, like the sun behind the leaves of a tree, glinted down at him, never truly revealing the full picture. Just glimpses.
"I…" he chocked to himself, testing to see if his voice still worked. "I…where…what…"
But the lord of the eastern lands did not finish the sentence.
His shoulders slumped and he gripped the edges of the blanket while he gazed dimly about the room, letting the memories wash over his eyes like water.
The ride along the road had become wet with the seasonal rains washing over the land near Sapporo. A few times, Inuyasha had been forced to stop and wait for the downpour to pass. In those scattered moments his mind had wandered and formed intricate webs in which he unconsciously trapped himself. In those memories of yesterday, his past had risen to the surface only to collide painfully with the future.
He had realized, as the rain poured down overhead, that his life was like a top. Like a child's game, like a child's toy, he just went round and round—never making much progress.
omae no jumyo wa kodomo no omocha…
Hadn't he paid for his sins? Hadn't these sixteen years of defeat and hell given him retribution?
Obviously not…
His brother was content to spin his life, like a top, the colors blurring together as one. His brother was content and amused to watch him spin hopeless circles around a goal that he could never achieve. Was happiness, Inuyasha screamed, so unattainable? Why, when bliss was nearly within his grasp, must it be bitterly grabbed away from him. What had he done, he rose angrily, to deserve such a fate?
Early in his life had he caused anger to the gods? Had he struck his mother? Why was his life in such a condition?
And now, Inuyasha knew, there was no other path. He had to begin his lifespan again; spinning, reaching out for the goal. Happiness.
The rain had cleared periodically, and the blue sky beyond glinted down at him, smiling. In the fields and meadows, the villagers were gathering taro roots and lotus bulbs. The spring equinox would soon be upon the countryside.
Kagome, for those few months, had been his. In addition, strangely, looking back on the experience, he found that being with her was not so terrible as it had seemed. Yes, she had been different, inexperienced…but, for the first time, a woman had belonged to him. Legally, at least. And what had he done? Tossed her aside, content with memories of the past. The love of a dead woman still controlled his hours—and his actions reflected the emotions he still held for her.
And yet…
During the months away, he found a burden slowly growing on his heart. The fact that Kagome was miles away, separated from his side both physically and mentally—it was discouraging. It caused emotions to arise within him; emotions he had thought long gone. Of course, Inuyasha knew, he could never reveal the presence of his emotions to Miroku and probably never even to Kagome. His anger and arrogance had dug his grave, and there was nothing left to do but slowly crawl out. But, such a thing would take years. More than likely; a lifetime.
And as he rode along on his dapple-gray horse, his heart tightened in anger and jealousy and spite—for once again he had lost something. It had been so close, hadn't it? Hadn't he nearly attained the goal? Then, so precise had been his brother's timing, that all had been lost.
Looking at the present state of affairs, Inuyasha was aware that his choices were not wise. Yet what could be done? Sesshoumaru had yet to feel his wrath and revenge from those sixteen years ago. And now, with Naraku at his side, Inuyasha knew that he would take great pleasure in watching his half-brother suffer. His brother had killed his one great love, stolen his wife, attacked his territory—but one thought brought Inuyasha consolation; Sesshoumaru had yet to get what this goddamned war was about. He had yet to get the sword….
But this was not enough. Not enough to sustain him, not enough to keep him level, not enough to hold his rage and anger down. It was not enough. Nothing was ever enough…
And….as he had ridden the path to Naraku's fortress, Inuyasha had plunged into a darkness of his own imagination and subconscious. His emotions took over and he trembled as scenes of yesterday played across his face—they taunted them, and only dragged him deeper…
Doubling up, Inuyasha choked back a sob and angrily combed his clawed fingers through his hair. What had yesterday been to him? A blur of sorrow and remorse. And this evening, what was it to become? More laments? Inuyasha knew already that he had regretted ever coming to seek Naraku for an ally, and even if he wished Naraku to go into battle with him, never—never would Inuyasha have imagined his actions being so rash and brazen.
Moving ever so slightly, Inuyasha shifted his gaze from the closed panels of shoji screens to the open porch now alit with the waxing moons glow. As though a brush filled with silver ink had traced every form, the garden appeared to sparkle like a gem.
Fingering the light and airy yukata some servant must have dressed him in, he slowly crawled across the tatami-covered floor and over to the wide open planks of the outdoor patio. Blinking at the brightness of the moon, Inuyasha settled himself against a pillar and closed his eyes. The night was quiet and still. It was a comfortable temperature, hinting the warmer nights of summer soon to come. Allowing his muscles to relax, Inuyasha tried to distance himself from his past, his present, his reality and his subconscious. All that remained was the sound of his breathing….
And evidently the footsteps on the garden pathway.
His golden eyes immediately snapped open, yet not moving a limb, he remained motionless like the statue of Kannon.
"Who's there?"
There was no answer. Yet again, did Inuyasha actually expect one? The footsteps against the stone pathway continued, as if some perverse chord played on the koto.
"Who the hell is it?"
The sound grew closer, not five feet away. Spinning around towards the direction, Inuyasha glared icily at the person who was now withdrawing herself from the cloak of shadows. Moonlight etched her perfect face, glowing like that of the moon over head. In taking a breath of air quickly, Inuyasha whispered scarcely above a whisper…
"Kikyou…?"
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Sesshoumaru, the lord of the western lands, quietly lit the oil lamp in his study and sank down to his desk. What met his eyes was a pile of letters, some requesting, some informing; none interesting or worth his time to say the least. Idly fingering his amethyst paperweight in his hands, Sesshoumaru studied his private domain thoughtfully. Five days ago, Kagome had walked inaudibly into his room, wanting nothing more than company and a quiet conversation. And although Sesshoumaru would not deny that often he had longed for the same thing, he was aware that the afternoon had been an eventful occurrence.
Kagome, a girl, a human girl, who had not resided at his house for more than two months, had been allowed to enter his one sanctuary from humanity. The one place that he could hide from his past, from the bitter and anxious world—she had been, that innocent day, unbeknownst to even himself, admitted into his soul. Whether or not this was favorable or inauspicious, Sesshoumaru was still pondering.
Yet, as the days went by, he often found himself actually enjoying life again. He found himself looking forward to the quiet meals they shared—he found life had begun again, and every day brought something new to his table.
In other words, he was getting soft.
Sesshoumaru knew that his girl would eventually leave and return either to her homeland or to Inuyasha, depending on the outcome of this final battle.
Why final, Sesshoumaru pondered to himself as he dug his claw into the chunk of amethyst and broke off a large piece. Why final…?
Because, Sesshoumaru replied, you are tired of this, are you not? For the past sixteen years, your life has been going nowhere. Like a child's toy, you pass from one hand to the other, but essentially—nothing happens. Such has been your life these past years, and admit it, Sesshoumaru; you grow tired of the sport.
Yet how could that be? How could it be that he, the greatest living youkai ever, grow tired of the hunt? The sport? The way of life?
Because now, Sesshoumaru, you long for something else. Your emotions have been eclipsed by an unknown force.
What?
No, Sesshoumaru, the answer is not 'what'. The answer is who…
Who indeed. There was no such person, no such youkai, and no such hanyou. Long ago he had sworn off to ever feel emotion, to ever allow an underside to be developed. To care, to love, to admire, to have fondness—all such things only led to a person's downfall. Hadn't this been proven with countless examples before him? Rin? His father? Inuyasha's mother? Inuyasha? Was not it just an endless cycle—and there was only one cure, only one path to take so as not to be carelessly tossed to the side. One had to not allow themselves concern, one had to not give a damn who had just been killed, one had to be stoic and suffer silently.
Giving the amethyst paper weight a careless toss he shuffled through the letters on his desk and fought back a sigh. Sometimes, without company, his life turned so monotonous—everyday the sun would rise, and everyday he would sit down at his desk…and if he grew bored of letters and planning battle tactics, he could practice swordsmanship, or go on a walk to survey his land. Sesshoumaru knew he had many choices—yet all had become so tired….
As his life had become…
It was deep night now, and his demon ears pricked in sensitivity sensing the sound waves echo through the courtyard. It was the sound of the shakuhachi—the bamboo flute. At first, Sesshoumaru presumed, that it was one of the servants sitting out on the porch playing a few tunes to amuse himself. But as he idly listened, shuffling through his papers, the lamplight flickering on the wall, Sesshoumaru began to notice a difference in the quality of the tone. It was deeper, more mournful, sad, and most importantly; expertly played.
Yet, the shakuhachi was an instrument of men (mostly, or so he presumed) so who could have been so skilled and he not even realize it?
The playing continued, and after ten minutes of idly shifting through unread or unopened letters, Sesshoumaru quietly exited his room and set off in search of the mysterious musician.
When he arrived, he paused at the porch, and watched her bathed in moonlight. This girl was one of mysteries indeed….
"The shakuhachi is a man's instrument, you realize." Sesshoumaru began, stepping quietly into the glowing moonlight.
Kagome, unaffected by his entrance, looked up and replied calmly, "Good evening."
Saying nothing, his glare turned icy. What had caused the alteration of her countenance? Usually she was full of pertinent remarks and always ready to spring into some new battle. But not tonight….tonight there was something blatantly softer about her as a whole. She was more feminine; gentler, polite…and truth be told, it both bored and excited him in a strange way. Having been brought up in court, he was used to such niceties, the proper way to behave, the proper way to live, pour tea, sit—and Kagome was illustrating such behavior at this moment. Yet, what intrigued him was that she should exhibit such behavior tonight. Why, he wondered. Why was she acting so differently? Had something changed? And, if so, what?
"Yes, I know." She added after a moment, obviously noticing that he was perplexed by her answer.
"Then why do you play? Why not the koto? Why not sing? I'm sure that your education, as you put it, has brought you up in such niceties." Sesshoumaru sneered, trying his best to unruffled her smooth feathers, trying to get a reaction that he had strangely grown so accustomed to.
"I choose not to do either because…" she paused, her blue eyes downcast, "I choose not to do either because they are not my forte. Why would I flaunt my weaknesses for the world to see? Why would I lower your opinion of me?""
"You have done such things before." Sesshoumaru replied, grinning slightly, waiting…waiting like a tiger in the grass.
"I have, that's true…but…being one of the few females who plays the flute well I think makes me different. In this day and age, it is hard to be a noble woman who stands out, who does not blend in. The shakuhachi makes me more unique in some respects." Kagome replied, the flute now in her lap, her posture more relaxed. Lifting her hands, she motioned him to take a seat on the porch.
Hesitating, Sesshoumaru whispered harshly, "I would have thought that being married to my half brother would have caused you much fame."
Kagome grinned and a laugh escaped her throat. His face impassive, Sesshoumaru sat down and stared at the garden, illuminated by the moonlight.
"I will admit that marrying Inuyasha has made me more known of…" Kagome shrugged. Lifting the flute to her lips, she began a slow and haunting tune. At first, it was deathly silent, like snow falling on the dogwood trees. But then slowly, ever slowly, it gained volume and the notes tinkled merrily up and down the scale like water. But then, the stream reached the lake, and the tune become softer, full of rhythm and interest.
It ended all too soon for Sesshoumaru, and turning his face to look at her, she found her blue eyes staring transfixed at his face.
"I," she began ever hesitantly, a bit of color coming to her lips. "I…" she began hesitantly again, clutching the bamboo flute in her grasp, "As a child I was to learn this. The flute. When I was born and for nearly five years after, until my brother was conceived, I was forced to act as though I was a boy. I was taught archery, martial arts, horse back riding, Go, strategizing, reading, writing, calligraphy—all that a boy is to learn. And then when Souta was born the tradition of my tom boyishness continued. Yet my mother insisted I learn all the arts of a woman so that I may make a good marriage. And now, see what I have become? An unloved wife with no use for any such skills." She paused, and glanced down at her lap, her hair falling over her face and over the silk of her light yellow dressing kimono, "It would have been better…" she breathed heavily, "If I had been uneducated and a fool—so then I may not have known I was oppressed…so that I would have not known what else lay behind the walls. So I may have been content."
Her head hung low and made no effort to raise itself. Her pale skinned glowed like the reflection of water against a whitewashed wall, contrasting perfectly with her dark raven colored hair that fell over her shoulders. Kagome was two different people, Sesshoumaru thought absently, studying her for a moment. During the day she was strong and tough as leather—with her hair up, she could rise to any challenge, any snide remark, any attack. Yet at night she turned soft and pliable like silk, her fears and anxieties over took her overly burdened soul and she drowned in her untied hair.
For some time, the night was filled with the sound of crickets of the surrounding countryside, the sound of rushing water, the whisper of the wind through the trees. But then, the silence was broken quite sharply and unexpected by a whisper from the dark.
"It is true that a woman's life is never good. It is true that society had not been kind and taken advantage of your sex. Don't cry to hard, for you are neither the first nor the last to feel such an emotion." The speaker paused, and gingerly reached and gently picked up the bamboo flute from her grasp and brought it to his partially opened lips, "But never have I heard such a beautiful song…and never will you fall to the slings and arrows to those who try to bring you down."
Exhaling, Sesshoumaru played a low quiet tune on the flute, his golden eyes wandering upward to the star studded sky, a slight glow surrounding his emotionless face. Perhaps it was just the moonlight….
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Inuyasha, digging his pointed claws into the soft wood of the porch, gasped and repeated the name over.
"Kikyou? Is that you?"
The form moved nearer and blindly Inuyasha felt that emotion from so long ago rise again to his throat, to his body and course wildly throughout it. It was Kikyou, in the flesh, alive and beautiful as she once had been. Nothing had changed, her eyes still held that mournful and attractive look as they had once carried, her body still slim and willowy, her hair still as fine as ever. No, Inuyasha told himself, this time it was not a figment of his imagination. This time it was not his desires rising to the surface creating an allusion. This time…! This time it was her! It had to be, for he could not imagine living through another hell without her….
Her silk blue kimono was partially undone, revealing her collarbone and a bit of cleavage. Inuyasha's golden eyes hungrily licked over the bare skin, a fire ignited in him once again. But he had to be sure…that this apparition was her, that she was here, once again ready to fall into his arms.
"Kikyou…say something," he gasped, crawling forward, his eyes transfixed onto her quiet face, "Anything…"
Her plump red lips moved and uttered quietly, "Yes, it is I. Kikyou….I have returned to you…"
"But, but, but how can this be?" Inuyasha gasped terribly, cradling his head and shaking it violently. "You died! I am married! How the fucking hell can this be?"
Her cool hands cupped his hot and angry face, and Kikyou, leaning closer, blew a cool breath onto his brow and smiled softly. Their foreheads touching, she whispered, "I am here, Inuyasha. I have returned. Isn't that all that matters?"
The silk of her blue kimono rustled as she sat quietly down onto Inuyasha's lap. "I have been reborn for you. Our love was something that could transcend time…and even death."
A cold, chill sweat through his spine, and shuddering, Inuyasha whispered hoarsely, his eyes wet with tears, "Transcend time?"
Wrapping her arms slowly around him, like a spider with their prey, she continued, "I have been reborn Inuyasha. For you, and you only." She paused, her dark eyes flashing in the light above. A worried and troubled expression surfaced on her features, and she cried desperately, "Then, Inuyasha, you love you wife? You no longer carry emotions for me?"
Inuyasha, dumbfounded, instinctively wrapped his arms about her waist and rested his head on her shoulders, "Kikyou, I've missed you so much."
"Missed," she began coldly, her form stiff, "But not loved."
"No," Inuyasha whispered softly, "I loved you, I still love you, I will always love you."
Then why, Inuyasha, do you feel as if someone has torn your heart out?
Isn't Kikyou what you pined for all these years?
Now, are you suddenly unsatisfied?
What could be the cause?
Or who…?
Kagome.
No. Not Kagome. You're wrong. She was your dull piece of glass, correct?
I…
You have her now Inuyasha! Now, you're going to destroy this
potential happiness for another girl you hardly know, respect, or trust?
No. Kikyou is mine. What was I thinking?
She will always be yours.
Inuyasha closed his eyes and slowly fell into the folds of the loose kimono soon being removed by Kikyou. He fell into her eyes and her heart once again, as he had done so many years ago. Pressing her hard against the tatami he kissed her hard, his tongue exploring every crevice to her mouth, every flavor to her body, every ridge, every mound, every depression. For the second time in his life, Kikyou became his…
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omae no jumyo wa kodomo no omocha…
if created properly, should mean "My life is a child's toy."
So, please read and review onegai shimasuuuu!
Sincerely
cappie