Dreamland
By Rivertam
Summary: A girl in a coma wanders through her dreamland, living battles she doesn't remember fighting. What's a dream and what's a memory? What's reality and what's a tale? AU MirSan InuKag
Well, here's yet another fic from me. We're going for 800 to 1000 words per chapter. I really wish I could've made Sango be the main character here, but I couldn't get it to work.
/sarcasm/ Correct! I do own InuYasha! That's why I'm writing FANFICTION and still going to middle school/sarcasm/ No. I also already have some more chapters of this written/is deliriously happy/ I'M ACTUALLY GOING TO UPDATE ON TIME! WOO HOO/starts running around in circles screaming/
Prologue
She took a deep breath; she had absolutely no intention of fainting and entered the room.
Her feet felt heavy, but a quick look at them showed no sign of blocks of lead. Her eyes flitted around the room; she vaguely registered drab curtains, white walls and sunlight gleaming happily, as though it was defying her, through the window. However, she barely registered anything, it was the piece of furniture in the middle of the room that caught and held her attention.
It was a bed, white and clean, reeking of antibacterial chemicals, built of metal. But she had seen beds on a day-to-day basis, no; it was the person lying in the bed. It was that person that made her take two full steps back, landing painfully into the bedside table but that was of little concern. It was that person that made her eyes water, little droplets of water clinging to her eyelashes. It was that person that made her want to scream; the sound welled up, radiating from her gut, her just barely holding it back.
The girl had huge bags under her eyes, an IV pricking her skin and held by a piece of tape. There was a triangular bit of plastic clamped over her mouth, hooked to box with something that looked like an accordion that kept moving up and down up, up and down. Her body was completely covered in bandages, the wastebasket on the other side of the bedside table full of used ones that were soaked red with blood.
She didn't twitch, wave, smile, or even move when her mother entered. She didn't do anything when her mother came close, clinging and massaging her hand, hoping to kami that it would bring her back. But it didn't. If she didn't wake up soon, statistically speaking, she probably never would. That's what the doctor had said. While she wanted more than anything that he was full of crap, a quack, she knew on a conscious level that he was right.
The bottom line was, at this point, it was going to take a miracle to bring her daughter back.
"No, no, no," she murmured, too quietly for the doctor standing beside her, observing nonchalantly, to hear.
She took a deep breath and pulled herself together. Making a scene, or becoming a sobbing mass was going to help no one. What she wanted right now was information. She was going to stop at nothing until she got it.
"What happened?" she started, speaking very quickly, "Was it an accident? Who did this to her? Why?" Tears threatened to spill again. "What if she never comes back? Who brought her in? Where did they find her? She's been missing for a few weeks, but we-" Pull yourself together! No tears! "Thought she'd hit her head or something, that she was just lost..."
The doctor stood, he was a man of about twenty-five, probably fresh out of medical school. He stood and looked at the woman, and began to speak slowly and clearly. "We're not really sure. A kid that looked about fifteen brought her in, but the nurses just brought her up her quick, by the time the person at the desk started asking the relation, where he found her, and so on, he was just gone. The nurse that he gave the patient-"
The woman's face hardened again. "Don't call her that."
The doctor, if she was in the mood to be formal would be called Dr. Slate, looked faintly perplexed. "Don't call her what? I'm very sorry if I've offended you in some way, but I don't believed I used any offensive terms-"
"Don't call her 'the patient.' Her name is Kagome."
Under any other circumstances Mrs. Higurashi would have at least bothered to be polite. Under any other circumstances Dr. Slate would be angry at being ordered in such a manner, but he empathized with the woman and didn't begrudge her.
A nod. "Very well then. The nurse that he gave Kagome to just said that he or she dressed oddly, but was in too much of a hurry to let her get a good look."
"Who did this to her?" Her voice was incredibly cold.
"We're not sure. This may sound...odd, but the wounds looked like they were given to by teeth."
Her mom's eyebrows shot up. "A dog?"
"Erm...no. The bite marks were huge. We're not really sure."
"So you're telling me that a saber-toothed tiger attacked her?" She almost laughed.
The doctor blushed, suddenly realizing how stupid this sounded. "Anyway, whatever this was attacked her and she was slammed into something hard, a tree or a wall, maybe."
"That when she hit her head?"
"Yes."
So Mrs. Higurashi stood, staring and thinking. What else was there to do?