Blood-Stained
A/N: How's the story coming along for you guys? Is it better with faster updates, but smaller content? I know my writing changed a whole lot from the last time I've updated. Tell me your opinion in a review!
Chapter 10: Two Steps Back
Nghi
Shippo must hate her, she realized. Driving back to Sango's apartment was quiet, and the little monster always had something important to say; it was in his and every child's nature. The littlest things kept his interest, and surely by now he must have been captivated by the car lighter— he had been eying it for some time now. But against his character, Shippo did not speak and nor did he look at her. Kagome couldn't tell if he was angry and disappointed and scared by her answer, or he didn't want to see her in this state. It was never subtle at all, the small signs he unconsciously performs when a dead body surfaced- the little twitch in his hand, the slight flinch in his shoulders, his tense expression, and how he averted those sparkling emerald eyes away from the mess, away from the grim stares from the police, and onto something more happy. He is in denial.
Pulling up against the bank of the grass, Kagome pulled out her keys. "Do you want to come in?" She was in no way apologetic for her stanch decision; she never wanted this in the first place, and she didn't want to keep being here. She was fighting back, and it was his choice whether or not he would continue running from the problem. Shippo didn't answer, and Buyo mewled pathetically, still within his clutch. "Fine. You stay here and watch Fatty from escaping out the window or pressing on the gas pedal."
The blood had dried everywhere, from underneath her fingernails to the flakes that were playfully scattered across her arm. It was like mud, dirty and clingy and brown. But it was a different kind of dirt, a whole world different than earth…. Her skin crawled, and the itch began to emerge, more horribly than last time. A thousand hot needles pricked the back of her neck, and she jerked spasmodically. Slamming the door, Kagome marched into the apartment complex, her fingers leaving bright red welts along her forearms.
Her fingers had curled around the golden doorknob when she heard a small voice and her name. It was Shippo, his head peeking out from the window. "You're making a big mistake." He stared at her while she licked her lips once, twice, and then let an unsure smile play across her face.
"It's a good mistake," Kagome said, before letting the door shut behind her silently.
-
Something was amiss when she entered the apartment— the oak door swung open on quiet hinges, and she realized it had not been locked. It was very strange, because she remembered dimly of Sango telling her how safety was paramount over anything else. So why would…?
Oh, no. Kagome sucked in a breath noisily— her hands trembled slightly, and her legs shifted, automatically towards the exit. It was unconscious, a habit she didn't realize she had. Then her mind thought of Shippo and what happened in the car, and she tried to quell the overriding dread in her stomach. There was a quiet thrumming in her ear, something from an Edgar Allen Poe poem, and it began to buzz louder and louder and louder until it was kicking and screaming, leaving behind a reverberating echo. Sango had… he reached… how in such a short amount of time?
She should look and prod around, but what if he attacked her from behind? What if he slit her throat? What if he shot her with a simple, clean bullet? What if he paralyzed her? What if he gouged out her eyes and ripped out her lips and mouth? So many images flitted through her mind, and she nearly buckled as an intense wave of nausea threatened to cough itself out.
I'm too afraid, Kagome thought, and she turned around, ready to walk out— but her hand wouldn't let go the doorknob, and she knew she would never let herself down if she walked away from here, away from the chance to hurt the man, away from the chance to avenge, away from the chance to live again. Besides— she swallowed heavily— I will give Shippo something to live for. If she killed him, he would never have to be afraid, never have to hide again. If she died, she knew he would come forward to publicly find the man. That much, she could expect from him. Taking a deep breath, Kagome turned around once more and entered the flat meekly.
The white carpet was stained, and the chandeliers were shattered, its remains scattered colorfully across the floor; they broke underneath her white pumps, which were no longer white. The couch was shredded in a comical fashion, cotton springing up from the velvety seats and springing eagerly forward. Tables were overturned, and the once elegant fireplace was ruined, tattered and colored. Everything was always colored red, she thought grimly. There was a whimper down the hall, and she stopped walking, stopped thinking, stopped breathing. It could be him now, and she didn't want to risk the chance of him barging into the living room, swinging his maniacal ax. In all of her pep talk, her rallying, her supposed courage, her seeming indifference to life or death, she did care, and she didn't want to die. Not now, not when Shippo needed her! She did not care for hypocrisy or for traitorous thoughts- she wanted to come out alive, and her knees were badly knocking against each other when the keening grew louder. She should leave, run out of the apartment, jump into the car, and hide in the next town— Shippo was right, what was she thinking? How could she ever have thought of pulling this off without hurting herself? Freedom wasn't as important as living- she had been getting cocky, and she was sure he wanted her to become just that. But she would do the exact opposite and—
Something heavy smashed against the wall, and the crying became an angry yell. If it weren't for such a startle, Kagome would have bailed altogether. As it was, the object had crashed melodiously, and she knew it wasn't like him to put up with crying or tantrums. She edged quietly towards the door at the end of the hall, the one with the crack open. The pandemonium grew more, and Kagome thought she recognized the warbled voice. Could it be…?
The door opened with a loud creak, and Sango was lying in a heap in all her glory. Inuyasha was crouched, and he glanced up tiredly at the intruder- his mouth curled in disgust at her. "What are you doing here?" he spat, and Kagome flinched at the unhappy tone. The woman lifted her matted face to see her with dried blood flakes, and she began to cry again, louder. "No…."
"You're filthy, human." His tawny eyes were icy, angry, and flickering pain. "I came from the—" Sango cried even harder, her body wracking with warped sobs, and she was all but forgotten. "Ssh." Inuyasha ignored the lifeless woman by the doorframe. "Get up and change. You're a mess."
"No!" She retreated from his extended hand and curled against her chest. "H-how can you say that, Inuyasha?" She wept bitterly. "H-how can you say that, when h-he's-"
The man inhaled sharply and shifted on the balls of his foot. "Sango, please get up. You've been crying all this time." He did not blink as she rasped something incoherent and threw the tissue box at his head; it was neatly evaded, and he retreated it a few moments later. "Stop this," he pleaded, his eyes sparkling sadly, and Kagome began to feel the green bug again. "You know—"
"Stay out of this," Inuyasha snapped, his eyes boring holes into her head, and she was suddenly frustrated. She was trying to help, and he pushed her aside like she did not matter? Sango's fists made hollow thumps against the floor as she found solace in the crook of her arm, and Kagome felt wildly jealous. This woman was truly a baby, she decided angrily. There was someone to take care of her, to watch after her, to worry for her, and she had nothing. Even when Sango had lost someone, there would always be another person to see for her, and she was still crying? Did she know how lucky she was, to have someone her like this? Kagome clenched her fists as Sango threw another vase against the wall, effectively creating a smashed hole. "I can't go on," she sobbed pathetically, her head shaking and her nose running and her mouth turned far down. "I don't want to go on…."
Disgusting, Kagome thought. It was always like this- someone else having the things she wanted. She wanted someone to watch over her, she wanted no obligations, she wanted to be fearless. But we can't get everything we want, now can we? She thought savagely. What had happened to the strong woman? The woman with the determination? The woman with the sharp tongue? The woman who had endured years of military training? In the end, it was for naught, because she was reduced to this-this sniveling creature. Disgusting, she thought again, feeling more jealous than before.
"Sango, please-"
"Leave me alone!" she screamed more fitfully. "You don't know how much it's hurting, how much it's killing me…."
Inuyasha snapped, and his hands retracted from her shoulders like burnt charcoals. "Don't you ever say that." The woman ignored him and continued crying, and he glared at her back before finally standing up- he brushed past Kagome, barely flitting an eyelash at her. "It hurts me, too, Sango," he said quietly before disappearing into another room.
She was left standing there, watching dumbly as the woman writhed- Sango heard his words, and the salt dewdrops fell and splashed loudly. "You don't deserve this," Kagome whispered more to herself.
"And you don't deserve Inuyasha, either."
-
