Broken Mold
143
In the early days of Man, people moved from place to place together. They were called nomads. They followed their food, their sustenance, like a dog follows its master because they knew no better way to go about it. Then, farming was developed. It entitled a more stationary way of life. Tribes became societies. They remained isolated, but autonomous nonetheless.
As time progressed, so did populations. The largest empires, primarily in Europe and Asia, expanded and conquered. Their cultures slowly affiliated with those suddenly beneath them and those who traded with them. This led to what was called cultural diffusion.
In times before the dark ages to even World War II, more soldiers often died to foreign diseases than to their enemies. They lacked the immunities to the viruses. It was the product of such isolation. A society that has never been in contact with foreign countries could never have developed immunities against oversea diseases, and thus death and sickness reigned on the battlefield.
In America, after the settlers held the remaining Native Americans in check in preserves, many refused to live in the desolate regions under their harsh conditions. They integrated themselves into what was then early American society, and here the cultural diffusion began. However, up until the colonies, the Native Americans had still been a largely nomadic people. Only those already under the influence of the Missions had any significant understanding of farming and agriculture.
If a person is introduced to foreign compounds, that person's metabolism may not be prepared for the change. Going from buffalo meat to the saturated fats of butter, the calories of beer, processed sugar, and the addictions of smoking and gambling wreaked havoc on an already crumbling way of life.
As a result, many were unable to handle the change from tribal life to a society of excess. Where there was once only the land and what it gave you, there was now early industrial marketing. They were able to eat without chasing, or even following, their food. Someone else did it for them at a ridiculously low price. Of those Native Americans who understood what a preserve really was, and instead chose the lesser evil, many became horribly obese.
Feudal Japan was one of the most isolated countries of its time. As such, its culture developed and flourished with almost no outside influence. Cultural diffusion was nonexistent. Without a model of comparison, or even word of it, Japan went on through an extended Dark Age and feudal system, while the rest of Europe, early America and Asia underwent the Renaissance and Enlightenment. In Japan, Shinto was the only form of religion. Like Christianity, its believers later broke off into subcategories, but on a smaller scale. And later, Buddhism spread through China to the small island off its coast.
Here, however, the rural form of shrine Shinto reined. There was no cultural diffusion – except for Kagome Higurashi.
"Pass me that Choco Bar," Sango said loudly. She took another swig out of a 12-ounce cola can and let out a quiet belch.
She leaned forward to grab yet another soft drink from Kagome's backpack. The tiny arch of a tummy bulged in reaction to the effort against the thick wool of her kimono. Neither one of them noticed it, not even the demon slayer.
Kagome's face had once been angular. It had possessed everything that was assumed beautiful in a feudal woman: it had been fragile, it had been innocent, and thus it had said everything that Kagome's personality repudiated. Her face and her body had begged for support, for understanding, for protection. She had been too young to understand the demon world of the past, too small to fend for herself within it. Everything else about her contradicted the very impression that her beauty implied.
Inuyasha had loved that contradiction. Kikyou's cold, hardened eyes had always loomed in the background, a stark contrast to Kagome's brilliant innocence. Kikyou, as he did, had understood the implications of her stature, and she had rebelled against it. She was the most powerful priestess of her time, a soul not fit for such a small body. She had made it fit. But now, whenever he saw her, those eyes still demanded the respect she no longer deserved.
Kagome took another stick of Pocky out of its packet and gnawed on it absentmindedly. She had stopped caring about the taste and texture of what entered her mouth half an hour ago. Now she only sought the mechanical security of the motions.
The miko's face was no longer angular. It had once been, but somewhere between the Bone Eater well and the middle of yet another forest, it had matured to accommodate the soft embrace of the beginnings of a double chin. She looked cute. She didn't look quite as fragile, but she looked cute. It killed Inuyasha to admit it.
Miroku and Inuyasha sat off to the edge of the campsite, the girls on the far opposite. Beside Inuyasha, Miroku sat with tears welling up in his eyes. "They had such a bright future," he sobbed to Inuyasha. "She had such a firm, tight ass."
"You had better be referring to Sango."
"Sango had such a firm, tight ass."
Supplemented, Inuyasha returned to brooding. She had such a firm, tight ass…
The group had been in the same forest for five days now. They had, as Miroku figured it, walked as close to the other edge of the woods as humanly possible without seeing the clearing, then turned around, walked back to the other edge of the woods, stopped, turned around, and repeated the process several more times. During this, all Inuyasha could stare at was the voluptuous sway of Kagome's hips – and there was quickly becoming a lot to sway-, all he could listen to was Kagome's incessant whining for a "breather", and all he could think about was how many god damn portions of high quality rations he had paid for out of his own pocket to allow her to gorge herself on that had led her to getting so fucking fat in the first place, just so that she even had the opportunity to bitch all day about her legs hurting.
She won't have felt pain until she gets slammed in the face by a giant wolf demon, he thought angrily. His wounds had healed, but Miroku's arm was still in a cast. See if I take another hit for that fat bitch.
Deep down, he knew he'd still step in front of a train for her.
On the other side of the camp, it was Sango's turn to look at Kagome expectantly. Kagome, however, didn't know how to respond.
"What?"
Sango looked confused. "When do we stop eating?" She asked bluntly, expecting an easy answer. "I mean... I feel a little silly asking you because of… you know… lately…" Sango trailed off, looking at Miroku's aloof figure against a tree for support. She didn't want to think of her friend as fat just yet, maybe later, after just a few more pounds. "This stuff is so addicting. I don't think I've ever felt so full in my life," she squeaked. "But I'm still hungry!"
Kagome laughed. It wasn't a laugh between friends, but that of a parent down to a small child. We shouldn't be eating this in the first place, she thought breezily. Kagome had at first been confused as to why Sango didn't understand why her friend was getting so tubby. But lately it had slowly dawned on her; Sango didn't understand that her future food was loaded in calories. She doesn't even know what a calorie is, Kagome realized in astonishment. Her gaze drifted down the packet of Pocky in hand. "You stop," she thought back to one of her fights with Inuyasha, one before the pantry, "…when you feel better."
Sango innocently placed another Hershey Kiss in her mouth. "I don't think I feel any better," she confessed, "Only bloated." Sango put down the unfinished Pepsi can and stood up. "I do think I've had enough for now, though," she told Kagome, walking closer to the fire.
Vaguely, Kagome wondered if Sango still had such a firm, tight ass.
The next day, the group set out on a straight path through the forest. They would, and Inuyasha made sure of it, get out of this particular maze by dusk.
"Want me to carry your backpack?" Sango asked hopefully. Since they got up, she had been gravitating around Kagome.
"Yeah, sure." Kagome slid it off her shoulders and slumped forward when it came into her arms. The large yellow backpack had hardly emptied at all from yesterday's binge.
As they walked on, carefully attentive to the road, Sango's hand drifted instinctively to the depths of the pack, pulling out a different treat each time. No one said anything. There were more important matters.
Whenever Miroku stood next to Sango lately, it was an unfamiliar experience. It was unfamiliar because there was no air of suspense. Sango could even say that she felt an impression of companionship next to him, not of a date rape waiting to happen. She walked next to Miroku with negligent ease, even security, like Kagome next to Inuyasha. Sango didn't understand why she suddenly felt safe next to Miroku.
She unwrapped another Choco Bar and shoved the contents into her mouth.
"You're certainly eating a lot of those," Miroku said finally, after walking in contented silence for a long while. Kagome listened, her own silence not quite as content. Inuyasha walked several yards beyond them, purposefully ignoring all of them.
Sango nodded quickly, taking a second treat out from the pack. "They taste amazing," she gushed enthusiastically. "You've got to try these." She exposed a second Choco Bar. Miroku took it willingly, unwrapping it, and nibbled off a small, testing bite. The rest of it was inhaled in seconds.
Kagome smiled, glad that they liked her choices.
In the hours that followed, Kagome could only think of one thing: going home. The foliage around the forest was low, with sharp branches jutting out into the only visible paths. After the first day, Kagome made the decision of wearing anything that covered her legs. The sharp undergrowth had successfully shredded her sweats, and now it was working on her denims.
As if that wasn't enough to get pissed about, her entire wardrobe was getting tight again. She had lost weight without trying once, but here it was sneaking back again! She hated it. Her stomach, which had fit perfectly within the confines of her pants before they entered the forest, had grown outward to sloppily overflow the front and sides of her jeans. It rumbled lightly with each step she took.
And her thighs! Kagome thought she was going to die. As if getting that huge, jiggling butt back wasn't bad enough, it felt suspiciously like it had brought a few more friends. Her thighs would touch any day now.
At least she didn't have to carry that heavy backpack.
Sango had handed Miroku a few more sweets before Kagome stopped paying attention. She wasn't really all that hungry right then, but if those two wanted to snack she wouldn't stop them. She vaguely overheard Miroku commenting on Sango's womanly curves, but she didn't seem to disagree or become offended. He didn't try to act on it.
"Have you sensed any shards yet?" Miroku asked later, as they neared the edge of the forest.
Kagome shook her head. "None."
Rumors of shards had dried up. The wolf demon had been the last one in weeks. Their plan, as best they could come up with, was to wander the countryside until they detected another one. It didn't seem to be working.
Miroku's hand slid over Sango's shoulder they walked. She let it remain there. The perverse urges he usually experienced were oddly absent in that forest, and she welcomed a hint of legitimate intimacy. Their pace slowed, much to Kagome's delight and Inuyasha's detest.
Miroku had never noticed the change. The party walked on, out of the forest.