Hello – again – everyone. I started "In a Hundred Lifetimes" spring 2017 and my life spiraled out of control due to deaths, medical problems, post graduate studies, and heart break, so I abandoned this story late summer of 2017. I think I could have continued this story (even if I'd lost my spark for it) if I'd at least had a plan, but I was excited and I just wanted to write. I had three story arcs planned out originally, but I didn't know how to tie the ending together and I let that stress me out even though I was still on the first story arc. I've come back with an organized "story board" of sorts and now I know how I'll finish the story.

I'm sorry to everybody I let down. I know how it feels to find a story you love and then find the author never completed it. I recently finished reading a (completed) story that tore my heart out and left me in bed for days because I didn't want to live in this world – I wanted to live in that world. I can't imagine how I'd be feeling if the author just up and left the story unfinished. I'm not saying by any means my writing is that good (because I am not a writer by any means), but it made me feel pretty guilty. I started this story and I want to finish it.

As you may have noticed I deleted the 14 chapters. I'll be rewriting them and rereleasing them. They might be similar to what they were originally, or they might be completely different. Chances are that you haven't read this story in years and you'll need a refresher anyways – so happy reading. To new readers: hello and thank you for stopping by. As always please read, review, favorite, and follow. If you have any questions about myself or the story I'll be happy to answer them by message, on my profile, or if they're significant, at the beginning of the story.

Now without further ado…

I do not own Inuyasha or any of the characters

"So often we villainize our monsters,

our ghosts;

but without their cold breaths pouring down our necks,

we'd never find our way back home"

– Kaitlin Foster

Chapter 1

Her footsteps gently padding down the sidewalk were the only sound on the eerily quiet and familiar road she traveled down. The muted pat pat pat of her canvas shoes connecting with the pavement wasn't even loud enough to reverberate off of the neighborhood houses but Kagome still tried to step lighter. She wanted to shrink herself out of sight, so small that she could just disappear. She didn't want to be here.

Pat. Pat. Pat. Pat

Kagome continued to walk. The red shrine arch stood proudly in the distance, creating a stark contrast to the dark slate grey stormy sky that loomed overhead. She could see from here there was gentle wear and tear on the arch columns: the red had chipped away in places leaving exposed oak wood abrasions. If someone had maintained it, she thought – almost guiltily – it would look so lovely. Kagome shouldered the idea away with a shiver as the breeze picked up. Dead brown leaves whipped themselves near her ankles and she absent-mindedly drew her overcoat closer to her neck. Snow would be cloaking the naked trees within the next few days. There was nothing she could have done about anything, anyways.

Pat. Pat.

Kagome stopped in front of the weathered shrine arch and dared herself to look up. She glanced up through her eyelashes at the – were they always this imposing? – steps up to the Higurashi Shrine. The Shrine arch remained wide, welcoming even, as if it had been expecting her. Kagome wished she could stop personifying inanimate objects but it was an anxious habit.

She stood dumbly at the entrance to the shrine when a car passed by, startling her out of her reverie and causing her to jump. The car was minimally noisy as it purred down the road but to Kagome it was cacophonous and jarring. She whipped around to watch the car drive away but the wind picked up and her hair blew in front of her eyes, obstructing her view. She clumsily patted down her hair and pinned it behind her ears with her cold fingertips. Kagome supposed she was wasting time so she began the arduous task of dragging each foot up the stairs – each individual toe feeling as if it were balancing more and more weight with each step she took.

Why was she here? She didn't need to be here. What was she planning on accomplishing? There was nothing left to see. This was a wasted trip and wasted time.

Stop it, Kagome.

She knew why she was here. She had felt it tingling at her finger tips the past few weeks; drumming in her ears for the last few days; sitting like a weight at the pit of her stomach today; tugging at the fringes of her soul this very moment. She was being beckoned here by someone... some thing.

But why here of all places?

Kagome reached the top of the steps and her heavy eyes landed on what used to be a home – her home. Now, it was nothing but a shell, but in her mind's eye Kagome could still see the open windows with the curtains fluttering in the wind, the well cared for flower boxes and herb garden on the side of the house, and even her bike resting to the right of the sliding door. Now there were no windows or sliding doors, as those had all blown out. Instead of a bike next to the door, there were sooty, ashy streaks left from the blast framing the entrance. Kagome picked her way through the broken glass and debris that lay littered in the over grown grass and mangled weeds and stepped on the threshold. The walls, floors, and ceiling were all charred black. Everyday housing items were now just indistinct rubble and debris littered on the floor. A bit of amateur graffiti was all that decorated the walls that weren't burned too badly, no doubt left by reckless youth that dared to venture this far onto the abandoned Higurashi property. The most startling difference was that half of the second floor had collapsed when the support beams gave away crushing everything below it, including her mother.

This is where her mother had died. The fire chief said she had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong moment. The home that her mother spent 17 years creating memories in had been what ultimately killed her. She had been following Souta down the long hallway that ran through the middle of the house and they were both running for the front door in a mad dash to escape the fire. Unfortunately, opening the door caused a surge of oxygen that fed the fire and caused a fiery explosion, immediately killing Souta and causing the house to collapse on her mother. Luckily, grandpa had passed only half a year before in his sleep, therefore spared from the grisly deaths her dear mother and baby brother had faced.

She had been away at college when this happened. In fact, she had received a call from the local police department during one of her lectures and felt a strange inclination to go out into the hall to answer the phone. Some say her scream and hysterical sobs could be heard 10 floors up in the academic building. A few students say they saw her run out of the building, stumbling over her own two feet. She had worked herself into such a frenzy that she ran into a busy street and caused a few small car wrecks, perhaps to catch the next bus home. Gossips talk about how she was apprehended by security and taken to a near-by hospital as she deliriously wretched and sobbed the whole way there.

None of them were wrong.

Kagome had pieced and taped herself back together in time to attend the funeral. It was small and private, just a few close family and friends, closed-casket. Her three school friends, Eri, Ayumi, and Yuka traveled from their respective universities to be there for their long-time friend. Each of the girls made an effort to keep constant physical contact with Kagome throughout the service in order to keep her grounded; a tender palm on the shoulder; a warm hand squeezing hers tightly; a strong pinky hooked around hers. Distant aunts, uncles, and cousins, came by to pay their respects and offer their condolences and Kagome numbly nodded her head at each of them. Eri, Ayumi, and Yuka told her to call if she needed them for anything, anything at all and Kagome never called them. Instead she coped by drowning herself in school work and sleep and did little else. She didn't want to do anything else. Sure enough, the texts and the calls stopped, the Christmas cards dwindled in numbers each year, and she was alone. She had everything stripped away from her by the tender age of 17; no family, no friends, no feudal era.

After completing the Shikon jewel, she found herself stuck on the present-day side of the well. The second Inuyasha had disappeared into thin air she began to tirelessly pursue the feudal era through the well. No matter how many times she launched herself down that damned hole in the ground, it wouldn't let her through. She'd spent days researching wells, time travel, magic, and studying ancient scrolls at the library for even a ghost of a hint that led to the well working again. There had to be an answer somewhere, right? She concluded that without the Shikon Jewel, she had no purpose in the feudal era, and there was no reason for her to be there any longer. After the funeral she had ran all the way home and flung herself into the well giving it one last shot – a desperate and futile attempt to return to happier times. It was several hours before anyone had found her at the bottom of the well with a broken arm, 2 fractured wrists, and a nasty concussion. She cried bitterly at the bottom of the well – who determined her purpose? Who decided her reason? She had no purpose here, no reason here. Why couldn't she go back? She cursed the gods with the dirt from the bottom of the well pressed to her face and she screamed.

It had been 3 years since that day and Kagome was now a young woman at the age of 21, but her eyes were perhaps duller now. And when you called out to her, it took her a little longer to respond to her name, as if it were foreign to her ears. She chewed her food slowly without tasting, and slept without dreaming. She existed without living.

Yet here she was standing in front of the tree of ages, her heartbeat steadily thumping her in chest. She reached up and touched the place over her left breast, not remembering the last time she had felt as alive, or as conflicted, or as anxious has she had been today. Kagome removed her hand from over her heart and placed it on the rough bark of the tree of ages, thinking maybe she could also feel the life in it as well. One did not need to touch this sacred tree to know that it was full of life and that it would live another thousand years and see another thousand miracles. Half a century later, the imprint of Inuyasha's body from his time spent sealed to the tree was still clear as day – a miracle of it's own. Her finger twitched by her side, inclined to reach out and touch it, but she decided against it. Rather, her eyes fell to the base of the tree where some wild white lilies and purple lilacs were growing, or rather, preparing to die in this cold. Kagome slowly crouched down and wrapped her arms around her knees, burying her jaw into the crook of her arm. An exceptionally bitter wind blew straight through Kagome's jacket and caused her to shiver. It had been a long time since she had visited Souta, Mama, and Grandpa's graves.

Kagome reached out and tentatively broke the stalks of a few flowers for each resting family member. A few white and purple flowers for Souta and grandpa, but more purple flowers for mama - Kagome knew she'd like that.

Flowers in hand, Kagome stood up when a particularly brutal wind blew a couple of lilies and lilacs out of her unsuspecting grasp. She quizzically looked up at the long groaning branches of the tree of ages, its bare wooden appendages scratching and cracking against each other high above. She lowered her head and followed the direction of the escaped flowers with her eyes until they settled, scattered in a path to the well house. Kagome wavered for a moment, and swallowed back the sound of rushing blood in her ears as she walked forward and stooped down to collect the first flower. She found herself glancing up the stand-alone building, completely untouched and unscathed by the fire and vandals. Kagome stood up and took another step forward and as she crouched down to grab two battered lilacs, the wind suddenly blew with such force it nearly sent her tumbling forward. She caught herself, blinked, and stood gazing up once again at the Goshinboku, its long finger-like branches swaying in the stormy wind. Kagome's head suddenly felt foggy - she felt inebriated. She was dazed, her brain stumbling over her staccato thoughts: why… am I…. here… again?

Suddenly, Kagome's boquet of wildflowers slipped from her grasp and, as if on autopilot, her feet began to shuffle forward. Slow, uncoordinated, but sure enough, one foot in front of the other Kagome felt something deep within her bones dragging her toward the wellhouse. A small, niggling part of her brain was crying out in panic but a wave of calm cloudy anesthesia had washed over her, drowning her senses. The wind was now roaring in her ears and thrashing her hair about in a fury. The long grasses and weeds were flattened by the force of the hurricane force winds, debris flew around her in every which direction, yet Kagome remained steadfast and unfazed. She grasped the worn iron handle of the door and found that it still easily slid open like it had been yesterday she was throwing the door open and diving into the well. The wind was now howling outside furiously and the branches of the Goshinboku screamed as they cracked and creaked underneath the force of the pressure. Kagome couldn't hear – just the sound of her own measured breathing.

She robotically descended the steps toward the well, a few flowers blowing in from the open well house door swirling at her feet. The weights on her toes had been lifted and she almost felt as if she were moving through air that was too thin and she was afraid she'd fall through the floor. In fact, the air was suddenly very thin. She struggled to fill her lungs, but made no attempt to gasp for the oxygen she desperately needed. She stood at the lip of the well and stared into the darkness and the edges of her vision started to blur. Kagome sensed her lungs burning and she wanted to tear at her throat but couldn't find the will to move her arms. The wind outside the well house door was wailing and she was losing consciousness. Suddenly, darkness consumed her and Kagome, once again, fell into the well.

Outside, it was silent and still - not a leaf or blade of grass had been disturbed. Down the road, an old man and his wife sat watching a woman on the news give the daily weather forecast.

"Today, you may wear a light jacket, as it is surprisingly calm and only mildly chilly here in our lovely city..."

The old man turned to his wife, "I can't help but feel the strangest sense that something is happening at the old Higurashi shrine. There's something unsettling in the air…" He trailed off before taking a generous sip of his tea.

The old wife scoffed, "You know as well as I that no one has been near that shrine in many years. Shrines are supposed to bring good luck, and nobody wants to go near a shrine that has witnessed the deaths of its keepers. It will stand there until the weight of time crumbles it to a dust, dear."

The man rose from his chair and peered out the window at the shrine. Everything was still and as it had appeared the day before, and the day before that, and before that. The man still wasn't convinced. The wife rolled her eyes and refilled his tea cup, kissing his temple as he sat back down in his chair.

"All of its inhabitants, except one," He mumbled to himself, "I wonder what ever happened to that Higurashi daughter."

At the base of the well lay an abandoned bouquet of wild flowers.

I am currently working on rewriting chapter 2. Thank you for your patience, everyone.