Err…so I realized that I didn't write the disclaimer in the first chapter…so here it is.
DISCLAIMER: The characters and some of the settings in this story belong to the creator of InuYasha : Takahashi Rumiko-san. I do not own them…nor will ever, except if by some weird turn of fate I found myself in Takahashi-san's body…which is not likely.
The rain pattered on the windows, overriding the uncomfortable silence in the car, broken only by the slightly rheumatic sound of grandpa's snores. Even Souta was silent for the occasion, his eyes darting everywhere but not a sound passing between his tightly pursed lips.
Kagome tried to wriggle into a more comfortable position between her two siblings and received an angry stare from Kikyou and a small shove from the twerp. She reached out to the front to try and turn the radio on but paused at the withering look she was given by her mother. Okay, then, no radio.
She placed her hands on her lap and did one of the things she knew how to do best. Fidget. She smoothed imaginary wrinkles from her jeans, removed invisible flint from her top. She scuffed her shoes lightly against each other, ran her hands through her hair. She bit her lower lip and squirmed a little, bumping against Kikyou with special malice and purpose. She…
"Oh, for heaven's sake, mother, just turn the radio on."
Kagome raised a hand to her mouth, apparently to stifle a yawn, but the real purpose of the action was really to cover the self-satisfied smirk that played shamelessly on her lips. Kikyou was always the first to crack. Some people were just too easy to manipulate.
Her mother reluctantly turned the radio on, her hand lingering on the dials and buttons languidly, almost lovingly, her half-lidded eyes distracted. She was using that particularly calm technique that Higurashi women had perfected over the years and made their own, which served a sole purpose. Silently broadcasting their discomfort at doing something. Kagome visibly relaxed, her earlier anxiety vanishing from her mind, her overall mood mollified as the first notes were heard.
She had tried, over the years, to discover if someone else in her family shared this affinity with music, this craving she possessed for it. No one else had come to light…well, except her father, but there were some things that weren't spoken of in the Higurashi household and consequently, Kagome felt strange even thinking about these things.
She needed to rest. She let her head drop unto her brother's shoulder and when he did nothing to push her away; she stretched her legs, draping one over Kikyou's legs. Her big sister did nothing to push her away either. She mentally went over what she had packed to pass the time while Souta surreptitiously smoothed her hair down. Kikyou sighed and leaned some more of her weight on Kagome, trying to get comfortable in the small space that was available for them.
Kagome smiled softly. They never did this anymore, she thought. They never just sat in silence and enjoyed each other's company anymore. They had been close once, but now they barely had time for themselves, and even less for each other. The smile wavered and disappeared. They still had to deal though.
She sighed dejectedly. She was a complete pessimist. She pushed all thoughts from her mind, seeking to end her sudden unrest. She fell asleep to the sounds of Tchaikovsky, lulled into a dream world by the soft notes. A world where many a sandy-haired boy roamed, where she spent her nights playing her violin on the lip on an old well, where her summer days were enjoyed by lounging around in the branches of Goshinboku. A world where she was content and at peace with herself.
Kagome scratched her chin, wondering if her sister was crazy. It was the only plausible explanation. Why else would the apartment be so…clean? She had known Kikyou was a neat freak, she just hadn't known to what extent. Everything was so…sterilized. She came to the conclusion that this wasn't an apartment. It couldn't be, no, this was an Operation Room and soon enough some green clad interns would run into the room with a patient in tow to operate.
Except it would be a bit unorthodox to have a couch, a kitchen and a TV in an Operation Room. Unorthodox, yes, but not necessarily bad. Even doctors needed to wind now. She was suddenly sure that her sister would have made a wonderful doctor, had she not been hell-bent on becoming a top-notch lawyer.
Slowly, Kagome untied her trusty black Chuck Taylor's and carefully placed them on the shoe mat by the door, making sure not to let any of the dirt on them fall onto the white floor. This was the way one did things in Kikyou's territory. Methodically and effectively.
Kagome could hear her family in the kitchen, Kikyou's quiet laugh, the sound of a tea kettle, her brother's whiny voice. She padded quietly along the carpet, directly going to where she knew her new room would be. She turned the doorknob slowly, narrowing her eyes so as not to be blinded by the cleanliness of it.
Well…at least it wasn't all white. She unceremoniously dumped her bags on the floor and set out to explore the room. Her hand trailed along the wall, feeling its texture. Her hands encountered very few bumps and, offhandedly, she thought that either her sister had not been the one to paint this apartment or Kikyou's painting skills had gotten considerably better over the last year.
She grasped the clean, crisp sheets on the bed and grimaced. Ugh… they felt like hospital sheets. Personal touches were definitely needed. She took off her black hoodie, gathered her hair into a loose bun and set to work.
An hour passed quickly as she tweaked an arranged the room, here and there, to her liking. Her clothes were in the closet, messily, but in the closet nonetheless. She would have to bear the sheets for now. Her hands came to rest upon her violin case and she delicately traced the inscription on its surface. To my dear daughter, may music be your haven in the darkest of times. – Y.H.
She swallowed the lump that had unknowingly risen in her throat and carefully placed the priceless article on the nightstand. A knock on the door stopped the torrent of depressing thoughts that were about to rush into her mind.
"Kagome, they're going. They want to say goodbye."
"Okay, I'll be right there Kikyou."
Kagome pulled at her "Goodbye Kitty" shirt in a last ditch effort to make herself look at least if not presentable, then just barely passable. She blew her bangs out of her eyes, before stepping out of the room and softly closing the door behind her.
Her family stood at the door, ready to leave, but still waiting for her. She saw remnants of a family tea time on the kitchen table and felt a pang of regret at not having been able to sit and talk with them. A bitter-sweet melancholy came over her. She loved them, she really, really die but she just wasn't as close to them as before.
She looked at her mother's warm brown eyes, her tired face and her welcoming smile. She tried to memorize the lines of silent knowledge around her grandfather's eyes, the color of his wizened skin. Kagome smiled softly as she saw her brother's slightly tousled hair. How she wished things weren't this way. She would miss them.
They stood there, awaiting a word, a phrase, a speech, a goodbye form her. And Kagome couldn't bring herself to say anything, because she knew that no matter what she said, it would never be enough to fill the gap between them.