Imitation of Life

In all things of nature there is something of the marvelous - Aristotle

Chapter Two

The question hung in the air, lingering, the answering silence deafening. The rain continued its relentless downpour, beating a steady rhythm upon the roof of the building. Normally, the sound was an annoying reminder of the building's multitude of imperfections, including its tendency to leak at the most inconvenient times. At this particular moment, however, Inuyasha's thoughts were preoccupied with the woman standing naked in his living room.

She stood staring at him, either not comprehending or ignoring his coarsely worded question. Inuyasha leaned toward the former explanation, seeing as how the woman made no attempt to hide her nudity. Realizing with a little embarrassment that he'd been staring, he quickly turned around, a slight redness in his cheeks.

Clearing his throat he repeated again, "Who are you?" Again, the question was met with a stony wall of silence. Inuyasha was beginning to wonder if the woman could even talk when a small voice echoed, "Who am I?"

"Yeah, who the fu— who are you?"

"I-I am…"

The voice trailed off, filled with confusion and…fear. Inuyasha frowned. Could it be possible that she didn't even know who she was? But how was that possible? She was the one who'd mysteriously appeared in his apartment. All these thoughts mixed in an irritating jumble in his mind, making him growl in frustration. The sound must have startled her because he heard a tiny gasp behind him.

He spun around, ready to reassure her that he wouldn't harm her, but remembered that she was still…underdressed and clapped a hand over his eyes.

"Look lady, I don't know what the hell is going on here, but I'm not going to hurt you. Just stay right here and I'll find something to cover you with." He waited for a reply and when none came, he sighed. It wasn't likely they'd be having any deep and meaningful conversations any time soon.

Turning sharply on his heel, he let his hand fall to his side while he went to his bedroom in search of extra clothing. He grabbed a plain white button-up shirt and returned to the living room, hand once again blocking his vision.

"Here," he said thrusting the shirt forward. When she didn't immediately take the shirt, he let out a grunt of annoyance. "You're gonna need something to wear. I mean, you can't just walk around naked." The shirt continued to dangle from his fingers like a fish on a hook. With a heavy sigh, Inuyasha realized that she wasn't going to make this easy on him.

"Fine," he muttered, removing his hands and keeping his gaze locked on the hardwood floor. He moved towards her slowly so as not to alarm her. Stopping directly in front of her, he held the shirt open.

"Turn around," he ordered gruffly. She gave no indication that she'd heard him, standing firmly in place. Inuyasha stifled another growl that threatened to break loose. His patience was wearing dangerously thin and the woman's unwillingness to cooperate only served to complicate things further. All he wanted was answers, something the woman didn't have or refused to give.

"Fuck it," he muttered under his breath, his gaze swiftly locking on her face. Brilliant russet eyes stared back at him, catching him off guard. The woman stared at him unabashedly, her eyes bright with…what? Knowledge? Understanding? Whatever it was, Inuyasha had the uncanny feeling that she was staring into him, a feeling he wasn't entirely comfortable with.

Visibly shaking himself of the feeling, he motioned for her to turn around, his finger making a circle in the air. She watched his finger, her eyes following his every movement. Finally, she turned slowly, glancing back at him over her shoulder, her gaze questioning.

Inuyasha glanced away from those unnerving eyes, focusing instead on the task at hand. He raised her left arm, then her right, slipping her arms through the long cotton sleeves. Once the shirt hung on her body, he gripped her shoulders and turned her back around.

Again he was met by that disquieting stare, eyes wide and unblinking.

He busied himself with buttoning the shirt, starting with the hem and working his way up. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't ignore the smooth, unblemished skin as his fingers worked nimbly at the small plastic buttons. It looked as polished as ivory, as fresh as newly fallen snow.

Inuyasha's brow furrowed as he continued his task. He was bothered by the fact that his mind seemed to be wandering without his consent and by the fact that the woman was…was…

He couldn't quite place his finger on it, the missing pieces that he sought staying just out of reach. As his fingers came closer to the swell of her breasts, he felt his face become curiously hot. Why the hell was he acting like some brat feeling a girl up for the first time? He'd seen and touched plenty and had no qualms about it, so why did the mere proximity of his hands near a pair make him nervous?

Scowling at his uncharacteristic behavior, he hurriedly fastened the rest of the buttons and took a quick step back. The overly large shirt hung on her slender body almost comically, swallowing her up in a mound of white cotton.

One alabaster hand fluttered up to feel the front of the shirt, fingers gliding over each button. Inuyasha watched as she lifted her arms to stare at the sleeves, her gaze seeming to scrutinize the very material.

As Inuyasha stood watching the woman, it dawned on him why he was so troubled by her. The words had escaped him before, but now he understood what his mind had been trying to tell him. She seemed too polished, too fresh…too new. She seemed as if she didn't belong here.

>

"Like I said before, I don't know where the hell she came from. She just appeared…Yes, appeared goddamnit!"

Inuyasha tried to reign in his annoyance, but he found the task difficult. He didn't need inane questions right now. He needed answsers.

"Look, just get your ass over here as fast as you can. If anybody can make sense of this, it's you." He hung up the phone, not waiting for a response. He sat on the edge of his bed, staring out the window. His thoughts eventually turned to Kikyo. What had she done? What happened to the demons? If Inuyasha hadn't seen the army of demons himself, he wouldn't have believed they'd been there at all. There were no bodies, no carnage. As powerful as Kikyo was, she had been too damaged to have done them much harm. Still, he couldn't explain their sudden disappearance.

…it's not your fight. Not yet.

He heard the words as if they were whispered to him on a gentle breeze. What had she meant by that? Perturbed by the unexplainable, he fisted his hands in the bed sheets, the soft cotton material crumpling in his palms.

"What did you do, Kikyo? What happened to you?" He whispered to no one in particular. A sound near the door caught his attention. The mystery woman stood just inside the doorway, her eyes wide and confused. Inuyasha stood and looked at her expectantly.

"Is this…not my time?"

Inuyasha cocked his head to the side, not sure of what she was asking. "Your time?" He echoed uncertainly. She looked down at the floor as if searching for answers. "This is not right," she murmured, her hands clutched in front of her.

"What's not right?" He asked, noticing that she was forming actual sentences rather than staring and mimicking what he said. She gave a sharp shake of her head and sighed, seeming to give up.

"I'm not sure."

Inuyasha gave a grunt and shrugged his shoulders. "Doesn't matter. I've got somebody coming over who should be able to shed some light on this situation. In the meantime," he continued while leading her from his bedroom and back out to the living room, "maybe you should sit down and try to remember exactly who you are and how you got here."

He sat down on the couch next to her, patiently waiting for her to open up. By her demeanor, he could tell that she was troubled. Trying to put her at ease, he said, "Why don't we start with your name?"

She looked up at him, biting her lower lip. For some odd reason, Inuyasha found the gesture strangely vulnerable, almost endearing. Wait, where the hell did that come from? Screwing his face up, he barked, "Don't you even know your damn name?"

He instantly felt guilty when she cringed and scooted away from him. Deciding to take a different approach, he offered, "If it helps any, my name is Inuyasha." She glanced at him, recognition dawning on her.

"Inuyasha." She repeated. Her face lost some of its confusion as she silently repeated the name again.

"The name sounds so…familiar and yet I cannot remember you." She looked up at him, her eyes studying him intently. She seemed to realize something as she asked, "You're not of this time, are you?" Inuyasha was startled by the question, shifting uncomfortably. She reached out tentatively, her fingers brushing lightly against one of the velvety soft triangles atop Inuyasha's head. He instinctively jerked his head out of reach, his ears flattening against his skull. Her hand hung suspended in air, a strange expression on her face.

"You're…a demon," she stated simply, her hand dropping in her lap. Inuyasha remained mute, wondering how on earth she could see his half-demon form. He was supposed to be under a protection spell, a spell that shielded his demon attributes from human eyes. Could it be that she wasn't human?

"Perhaps you know me from the past?" The minute the words left her mouth, Inuyasha had an odd sense of familiarity, as if he might have glimpsed her somewhere, but where, he didn't know.

"Sorry, I've never seen you before in my life." Although he was quite sure he really hadn't seen her before, he couldn't suppress the overwhelming feeling of familiarity that swept over him. He was finding himself more and more intrigued, curiosity gnawing at him.

A deep frown etched into her porcelain features, her eyes darkening. "My thoughts and memories are so muddled…I'm not sure what is real and what isn't." She glanced at him, her liquid brown eyes begging for his help. Inuyasha looked away, unable to do anything to alleviate her puzzlement.

A hand touched his arm lightly, the warmth radiating through his clothing. He snatched his arm away quickly as if he'd been branded with a hot iron. He didn't have time to analyze his odd behavior when a buzz echoed throughout the apartment. He hurriedly made his way over to the two-way intercom and pressed a button.

"Yeah?" He barked.

"It's me."

He pressed another button and stood by the door, watching the woman on the couch warily. She seemed to be lost in thought as she stared down at her lap, her hands clutched together. She looked so lost and confused that he had an irresistible urge to comfort her, assure her that everything would be alright.

"Feh," he muttered, disgusted by his embarrassingly human emotions. For all he knew, she could be some demon assassin sent to kill him. As much as he wanted that to be true, Inuyasha knew it wasn't. She didn't have the scent of a demon and reeked of humanity…and something else that he couldn't quite place.

He was startled from his thoughts by a knock at the door. "Bout damn time," he grumbled, swinging the door open. He glared at the dark-haired man standing just inside his doorway.

"What the hell took you so long, monk?"

The man gave him a patient look, stepping past the annoyed hanyou and into the living room. "I got here as fast as I could, Inuyasha. The weather's terrible." He shed his dripping coat and nodded toward the woman sitting on the couch.

"That her?"

Inuyasha rolled his eyes, closing the door. "No," he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "This is the cleaning lady who always comes by on rainy nights wearing my shirts."

The monk shook his head with a disapproving air. "Seriously, Inuyasha. Must you always be so temperamental?"

"Feh," Inuyasha responded, folding his arms across his chest, looking every bit the petulant child he was acting like. After a few minutes of stubborn silence, he finally relented. "Yeah, Miroku, it's her. Like I said on the phone, she kinda just…appeared out of nowhere."

Miroku glanced at the woman, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Did anything strange happen before she appeared?"

Inuyasha had to swallow hard past the lump lodged in his throat. He looked away from the monk's questioning gaze. "Umm, yeah, I guess." He said, his voice low. Miroku frowned, picking up on the hanyou's reluctance to elaborate. "Such as?" He prodded, needing details. If he was to try to piece together the woman's sudden appearance, he needed to know everything.

"K-Kikyo was here," he began, concentrating on keeping the tremor out of his voice. "She'd been attacked by demons and she came here for…help." He felt a stab of pain in his chest at his words.

'Help? A fat lot of good you did protecting the woman you love.'

Inuyasha closed his eyes. "She was…covered in blood…barely able to walk, but somehow she did it." He whispered. Miroku shook his head, confused. "What? Did what?"

"Defeated them."

Miroku felt a cold feeling wash over him, dread settling in the pit of his stomach. "Where is she, Inuyasha?" He asked, swallowing hard. Inuyasha looked at him, his eyes conveying the sadness he felt. He couldn't bring himself to say the words, those dreaded words. Miroku didn't need him to say them anyway. Inuyasha's behavior alone was truth enough.

"My god!" He whispered, wondering how such a thing could happen. Kikyo was a powerful priestess, skilled at what she did. A mere demon could never bring her down. A possibility suddenly occurred to him, a possibility he desparately prayed wasn't true.

"What demons?" He asked, keeping his voice low. Inuyasha seemed to be stuck in his thoughts, not responding.

"What demons, dammit!" He asked again, his tone forceful. Inuyasha jumped slightly, surprised at seeing Miroku, the usually easy-going, laid-back monk, livid.

"You know who," he replied, his eyes narrowing into angry slits. "That fucking snake Naraku and my bastard brother Sesshomaru."

"Oh no," Miroku couldn't stop the words from slipping out as he wobbled on his feet. Inuyasha frowned. "Don't get weak-kneed on me now, Miroku. With Kikyo…gone, I'm gonna need you." As much as he hated saying the words aloud, now was not the time for his pride to get in the way.

"But the last time –"

"I sent their sorry asses to hell centuries ago and I won't hesitate to do it again," Inuyasha interrupted. He couldn't, wouldn't allow Kikyo's sacrifice to be in vain.

"No, you can't," Miroku said miserably, his expression one of shock. Inuyasha was surprised by his defeatist attitude. Normally Miroku was quick with the pep talks and encouragement, not the other way around.

"Then we had Kikyo to help bind their spirits and send them to hell. Now, she's…she's…"

"In hell."

Both men turned to stare at the petite woman sitting on the couch. She was staring back at them, her eyes shining with a knowledge only she knew. Inuyasha couldn't explain it, but he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she wasn't lying.

"What?" Miroku whispered. He, like Inuyasha, felt deep down that the woman spoke the truth.

"Kikyo," she stated matter-of-factly, "is in hell."

"How do you know that?" Inuyasha demanded. She turned her gaze square on him, her eyes burning into his own. He had the compelling desire to turn away, but he stayed his ground.

"Because her memories are mine."

Inuyasha and Miroku exchanged confused glances. What did that mean? Miroku moved closer until he was standing directly in front of her. "And who are you?" He asked, something nagging at him. Was it the way she talked, her voice soft but just as commanding, or was it her appearance, bearing a striking resemblance to someone else…

She cocked her head to one side, a small smile playing on the edges of her mouth. "You should understand better than anyone, monk. I am the one that Kikyo protected with her very life."

Miroku gasped, suddenly grasping the thing that had eluded him until now. He gazed at her, his eyes full of wonder and awe. Inuyasha watched the two cautiously, not catching on. What were they blabbering on about?

"You're…you're the…" Miroku couldn't get the words out, still in shock by her revelation. Inuyasha grunted, his patience giving way beneath his crushing interest.

"What the hell are you talking about?" He asked gruffly. Miroku turned to look back at him, a wide smile on his face.

"She's the jewel, Inuyasha! She's the Shikon jewel!"

end