Sheesh! Writing three stories at once is tough! I'm trying to update Not
Too Late, this story, and a Glance Ahead before I leave 2 days from
now....the result? A lot of stress on my part and a lot of late nights!! Oh,
well....It'll be worth it if I can update all this before I leave.... Love ya,
guys. As always, thanks for the reviews....
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By the next morning I was feeling pretty much back to normal—as normal as a ghost can feel, anyway. I'd slept as near to Inuyasha as I could be without actually touching him, and that just happened to be floating in the air. I hadn't meant to do it—I'd gone to sleep on the God Tree's roots, right beneath Inuyasha's branch, and when I woke up at dawn, I was floating—and upside down, too. I could fly! Well, sort of.... As soon as I woke up fully and realized I was floating, I crashed down to the ground, and could not, for the life of me, get back into the air. Odd, huh?
After breakfast, everyone went to work around the village. Sango helped Kaede out with everything—picking herbs, mixing medicines, and looking after the mildly ill. Miroku and Shippo were watching a group of village youngsters, and I had to admit—he really is good with kids. I couldn't help but think, however perverted it sounded, that he would make a good father someday. I imagined myself telling Sango, and could picture the rapid blush that would spread about her cheeks as she'd turn away and say fervently, "THAT letch? He can't even keep his hands to himself for five minutes! How's he gonna find a wife?"
I imagined myself talking to my friends more and more often. It was awfully lonely, being dead—more then once I tried talking to Inuyasha's mother, just to see if she would come back or something. I was disappointed. It seemed I was just as invisible to people of the afterlife as I was to living mortals. Either that, or there weren't any other dead people wandering around and haunting their friends. Actually, when you thought of it that way, it made me sound like a bitter old banshee. That was silly. I would always be Kagome—a miko, a sister, and a friend, never bitter towards my friends.
It wasn't their fault I had died, after all.
The sun was bright in the cerulean sky. A bunch of fat, puffy clouds were racing each other across the expanse. I'd once tried to explain to Inuyasha and the others about seeing pictures in the clouds.... The result had been a lot of funny looks and a comment about 'insane wenches' from a certain obnoxious hanyou. I smiled at the memory, remembering how the conversation had ended: with a few good sits, as many did.
Hopefully, I would have the chance to talk to my friends again. And soon.
Following Inuyasha around as he wandered about the village doing odd chores had been the only thing I could think of to do. He scared a demon away. I watched. He gathered herbs for Kaede. I made him spill some. He fixed a roof. I dropped logs on his head. None of the signals seemed to reach him as signals, though—he seemed to just think they were annoying accidents.
By the time Inuyasha went off on his own time, I was more than a little frustrated. He went straight to the God Tree of course. I pouted, climbing up the tree after him. I had been hoping he'd go back to the pond. After a few minuted of struggling I managed to settle myself 'on' the branch directly above Inuyasha's.
Hmm. I had to get his attention again. How to do it? Throwing things hadn't worked earlier.... Then it hit me. I could try writing! There was a notepad in my pack back at Kaede's house! If that could work, then explaining to Inuyasha would be a cinch!
All I'd have to do was wait for him to go back.
....Easier said then done. I waited, and I waited, and I waited some more. About an hour after sunset, Inuyasha yawned and got down....to mosey around somewhere else. I lost my impatience, shouting a few curses he couldn't hear, and left towards the hut, muttering things under my breath. When I got there, everyone else was still out somewhere. I walked over to my pack and stuck my transparent hand right through the closed flap. Focusing slightly, I opened the zipper and brought out a piece of my notebook paper and a pen, and dropped them both towards the ground.
Next, I brought my hand around the pen. Focusing with all my strength this time, I managed to lift the pen into a writing position and scribble one very jagged line of a character. If I had had a physical body, I would've been sweating. After several excruciating minutes, I had managed to pen a single character: See. I had to continue....but I was so tired.... Doggedly, I held my breath and focused my energy on the pen again, lifting it, forcing it to shakily keep moving across the paper....
And then, my mind did that spinny-loopy thing it had done in the pond the other day. When I opened my eyes the pen was lying, flat and still on the piece of paper. I'd managed to write the words "See me." Great accomplishment, huh? Who, in their right mind, would be able to decipher ANYTHING from those two words? Rather irritably, I sighed and, with a tiny muster of energy, blew the note out of sight. I'd figured out that the lighter things were, the less energy they took to move—and I was getting more resilient all the time. The hardest trick of all was projecting my image as I'd done in the pond—I could only keep that up for a few minutes.
But...I was progressing. My plan was to write a series of notes and pool them together to form a message...
And hey, at the rate I was going, I might just finish before Sango turned 50.
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By the next morning I was feeling pretty much back to normal—as normal as a ghost can feel, anyway. I'd slept as near to Inuyasha as I could be without actually touching him, and that just happened to be floating in the air. I hadn't meant to do it—I'd gone to sleep on the God Tree's roots, right beneath Inuyasha's branch, and when I woke up at dawn, I was floating—and upside down, too. I could fly! Well, sort of.... As soon as I woke up fully and realized I was floating, I crashed down to the ground, and could not, for the life of me, get back into the air. Odd, huh?
After breakfast, everyone went to work around the village. Sango helped Kaede out with everything—picking herbs, mixing medicines, and looking after the mildly ill. Miroku and Shippo were watching a group of village youngsters, and I had to admit—he really is good with kids. I couldn't help but think, however perverted it sounded, that he would make a good father someday. I imagined myself telling Sango, and could picture the rapid blush that would spread about her cheeks as she'd turn away and say fervently, "THAT letch? He can't even keep his hands to himself for five minutes! How's he gonna find a wife?"
I imagined myself talking to my friends more and more often. It was awfully lonely, being dead—more then once I tried talking to Inuyasha's mother, just to see if she would come back or something. I was disappointed. It seemed I was just as invisible to people of the afterlife as I was to living mortals. Either that, or there weren't any other dead people wandering around and haunting their friends. Actually, when you thought of it that way, it made me sound like a bitter old banshee. That was silly. I would always be Kagome—a miko, a sister, and a friend, never bitter towards my friends.
It wasn't their fault I had died, after all.
The sun was bright in the cerulean sky. A bunch of fat, puffy clouds were racing each other across the expanse. I'd once tried to explain to Inuyasha and the others about seeing pictures in the clouds.... The result had been a lot of funny looks and a comment about 'insane wenches' from a certain obnoxious hanyou. I smiled at the memory, remembering how the conversation had ended: with a few good sits, as many did.
Hopefully, I would have the chance to talk to my friends again. And soon.
Following Inuyasha around as he wandered about the village doing odd chores had been the only thing I could think of to do. He scared a demon away. I watched. He gathered herbs for Kaede. I made him spill some. He fixed a roof. I dropped logs on his head. None of the signals seemed to reach him as signals, though—he seemed to just think they were annoying accidents.
By the time Inuyasha went off on his own time, I was more than a little frustrated. He went straight to the God Tree of course. I pouted, climbing up the tree after him. I had been hoping he'd go back to the pond. After a few minuted of struggling I managed to settle myself 'on' the branch directly above Inuyasha's.
Hmm. I had to get his attention again. How to do it? Throwing things hadn't worked earlier.... Then it hit me. I could try writing! There was a notepad in my pack back at Kaede's house! If that could work, then explaining to Inuyasha would be a cinch!
All I'd have to do was wait for him to go back.
....Easier said then done. I waited, and I waited, and I waited some more. About an hour after sunset, Inuyasha yawned and got down....to mosey around somewhere else. I lost my impatience, shouting a few curses he couldn't hear, and left towards the hut, muttering things under my breath. When I got there, everyone else was still out somewhere. I walked over to my pack and stuck my transparent hand right through the closed flap. Focusing slightly, I opened the zipper and brought out a piece of my notebook paper and a pen, and dropped them both towards the ground.
Next, I brought my hand around the pen. Focusing with all my strength this time, I managed to lift the pen into a writing position and scribble one very jagged line of a character. If I had had a physical body, I would've been sweating. After several excruciating minutes, I had managed to pen a single character: See. I had to continue....but I was so tired.... Doggedly, I held my breath and focused my energy on the pen again, lifting it, forcing it to shakily keep moving across the paper....
And then, my mind did that spinny-loopy thing it had done in the pond the other day. When I opened my eyes the pen was lying, flat and still on the piece of paper. I'd managed to write the words "See me." Great accomplishment, huh? Who, in their right mind, would be able to decipher ANYTHING from those two words? Rather irritably, I sighed and, with a tiny muster of energy, blew the note out of sight. I'd figured out that the lighter things were, the less energy they took to move—and I was getting more resilient all the time. The hardest trick of all was projecting my image as I'd done in the pond—I could only keep that up for a few minutes.
But...I was progressing. My plan was to write a series of notes and pool them together to form a message...
And hey, at the rate I was going, I might just finish before Sango turned 50.