Alone… Almost
Disclaimer: Takahashi owns it. I would say it's regrettable, but it's really not. She's much better with these things than I am.
Cold and dark. Her eyes fluttered open. There was no light. She began to panic. No light. Only dark.
The air was heavy. Dark. Inky. Black. She began to struggle. The air was too thick, too fluid. Impossible to breathe, to move, to think. The air pressed in on her, and she did not know whether to breathe it in or hold it back. Roiling nausea overtook her and with a heaving gasp, the air pushed past her lips, down her throat, into her lungs. She thought she might suffocate.
Lying there in complete disorientation, she listened. That was all. She listened to her frantic breath, the pumping, suctioning, draining of her heart. She lay there for hours, or days, or maybe only minutes, in near complete silence. Nearly complete. Only the sounds of her rasping breath and the lurching of her heart filled the total emptiness of her surroundings.
But with the passing of time her thoughts began to organize. The heavy fog that had clouded her mind when she awoke began to dissipate. Kagome began to think. She began to puzzle. Slowly, Kagome began to piece together what had happened. The unbearable level of effort it took just to form coherent thoughts, just to work the cogs in her brain, almost made her give up. Almost. Instead she kept going. Kagome didn't give up.
She remembered… A storm. Dark clouds overhead. And…
A battle.
There was a battle. Yes! Of course! She was fighting… no, she was protecting. Protecting whom, though? While Kagome nibbled her lower lip, her brain slushed slowly through her memory, searching for something onto which to lock. Whom would she be protecting? Again and again she asked herself the question, but every attempt turned up nothing but failure as her mind uselessly tried to conjure up muddled image of something Kagome had already forgotten. Everything was just too fuzzy for her to think properly…
Kagome!
The voice ripped through her as cleanly and as neatly as a knife. Pain, bright, white pain, coursed through her blood, pulsed around her temples. And yet… If she tried just a little harder, held on just a little longer, looked just a little closer…
"Inuyasha."
The name broke past her lips in a high, confused staccato, almost too weak to hear.
And then-
She remembered. The battle, Kohaku's death, Inuyasha, forcing his way past Naraku's barrier, and her decision to stand up, to shoot the arrow, which led to… The last thing she remembered was a blinding flash of light, the desperate urge to run, to get as far away from that… thing as possible. And the shock of impact, the sickening feeling of bones snapping and innards stirring… But what had happened after? It was all blank after that.
Maybe she was blind.
Maybe she was dead.
She wasn't sure how to answer either of those questions, only wonder. Making noise could only have one of two outcomes. Either her friends would hear her, and see that she was awake, or something else would hear her… And come looking for her.
Tentatively, she called out into the dark, "Guys?" It was hushed, cautious, barely a breath on her lips.
At first, there was no response. Kagome wasn't sure whether to be relieved or to panic. Then came a soft, bemused chuckle from somewhere Kagome couldn't determine. It grew louder, and more confident, and, to Kagome's intense horror, closer. There was no mistaking that laugh.
"Did you sleep well, Kagome?"
ooOoo
At first, he had been almost too numb to react.
I'll always protect you.
The words kept swimming through his mind, an endless mantra. Everything else was filtered out.
Slowly, slowly, he lifted himself up, stood up straight as he could. He looked up at the sky. It was raining. Raining. Water everywhere, flowing downhill, draining, flooding the fields, pouring through the forest canopy. It was raining hard.
He looked over to his companions. Miroku, hands still clutching at a broken, distant Sango. Shippou, on the ground, wailing. He stared hard at Shippou, mind working out some idea almost too distant to discern.
Kagome.
That was it. That was what he needed to do. Fucking find Kagome and fucking slaughter Naraku. That was exactly what he must do.
He searched his surroundings, wondering vaguely how long he had been in his stupor. There was no time to waste.
"Oi, Miroku!"
At the sound of his name, the monk's attention slowly settled on him.
He waited for a response. There was none. Fine. "I'm leaving."
With a long, weary sigh, Miroku finally decided to speak. "Do you really think you'll find her?"
"Yes." There was no hesitation.
"Will you be coming back?"
"When I find her."
"Will you be gone long?"
"No."
ooOoo
It was still so dark, and yet, if she squinted, if she strained, she could see just the faintest outline of a man. And in the dark, bright, red eyes.
"Naraku." The words hissed past her lips in a single syllable.
A dark, barely visible smile, seen only by the glinting of white, white teeth in the shadows. "Kagome."
He knew her name. Shivers shot up her spine. Of course he knew her name… But to actually hear it in those dark, curtaining tones… Cold sweat broke over her face. She had to keep her wits about her. She had to think. She had to think. She had to think.
Her thoughts were interrupted.
A chill hand darted out to touch her face, to trace at tears of which she hadn't even been aware. When he raised his wet fingertips to her lips, she began to shake.
No, no, no.
"What do you want?" she asked despairingly.
There was no answer. Only that smile.
"What do you want?" she asked again, stronger, less afraid. She would not show him fear. She wouldn't do it. She wouldn't do it.
No answer.
Anger flashing, she stood. "What do you want!?" she screamed.
"You."
Kagome closed her eyes and passed into oblivion.
ooOoo
He felt like he'd been looking for her for an eternity. No, longer. But he would not stop. He could not stop. He couldn't afford to stop. To stop would be to abandon her. To stop would be to fail, miserably, to lose her. To lose her to Naraku. He couldn't let that happen.
But every now and then he stopped, stopped to figure out how long it had been since Kagome had been taken. Time was of the essence, and the more aware he was of it, the better it would be for Kagome. If there still was a Kagome.
No!
Every now and then he stopped, to figure out how long it had been since Kagome had been taken from him, because time was of the essence, and if he lost track of it, she would suffer, and he couldn't let that happen. He had promised to protect her, and as long as she was out there, he would never stop.
Never.
So, he kept moving, kept tracking, kept trying.
But as time passed, he began to lose hope.
It had been raining for days, washing away any signs, any scents, that wouldn't have already faded by now anyway. He was running in circles, and he knew it. But he couldn't give up. It was simply out of the question.
ooOoo
One thing she had learned to rely on was that it was always dark. Always. He left her alone. Most of the time. And time was what she had. Time to plan. Time to scheme. She had to escape, there was simply no other option. She couldn't rely on Inuyasha to save her. She simply couldn't afford to. The need to survive pressed down on her, formed a shallow pressure over her ribcage, and she couldn't ignore it. It was imperative that she make it out. So she had to think, and think well.
He had said he wanted her. Specifically. What did that mean, what did that mean, what did that mean!? She wondered if he had been screwing with her. He might have been. He was good with head games. She had to remember that. Everything he said was a lie. She had to make that assumption. Anything else was too dangerous to believe.
But then, she realized, she couldn't believe anything. Not anything at all. She couldn't assume the opposite of whatever he said was true, because he might slip that in to confuse her. So she had to believe in nothing, nothing at all. That was what she had to do. That was what she had to do.
She had no concept of time, and that was okay. She didn't mind. She had no appointments, she had no obligations. Her only priority was to get out, and get out fast.
For the first few days, weeks, months, minutes of her captivity, she tried to figure out when the servants would appear to feed her and help her relieve herself. But there was no rhyme, no reason. It was, as far as she could tell, completely random.
The first time the servants had come to take her to relieve herself, she had hoped, somewhat cunningly, that she would be able to study the layout of her prison as she commuted through the halls. But to her unceasing frustration and sickening despair, she found that the halls were as dark as her cell.
So, that left her with Option #2. Get the Hell Out. Now.
But that still took planning. Lots of planning. It didn't take much to realize that the best time would be somewhat immediately after the servants left. But that left the question of when. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized that it didn't really matter. Every moment here was the same. So, without any particular reasoning behind it, she one day decided that when was now.
By her intensely thought-over, probably inaccurate calculations, her jailors had left her approximately twelve minutes ago. She couldn't worry over time spent counting that out, the slow, shaky breaths she had forced herself to take. She couldn't worry about precision, now. She could only pray for luck.
Slowly, she stood, and, being careful, oh, so careful, not to make any attention-grabbing noise or let her weight squeak at the floor boards, she shuffled over to where she believed stood the sliding doors.
It was dark outside. It was always dark though. With her palms pressed up against the walls, she stealthily made her way down the long, long wall. She found no guards, no sentries, nothing to impede her escape. Luck was with her.
Hours seemed to pass, but she did not mind. Cold sweat snaked down her neck, wetted her hair, made her palms sticky. Adrenaline coursed through her until she was hardly able to support her own weight, and her knees gave way beneath her. But she could not allow herself to give in. She had to keep moving. So she did.
Then- a glowing. A soft, bright light, brighter and lighter than anything she had ever seen.
The Entrance.
Head held high, Kagome Higurashi walked out the door.
ooOoo
Miroku had caught up. Miroku had goddamn fucking caught up to him. He really was going in fucking circles. There was just no other explanation. Or-
He had wandered back to the fucking village. That was it. He had gone in a big, giant, goddamn fucking loop and now he was back.
"Inuyasha…"
"Don't."
"We loved Kagome-sama, too, Inuyasha."
"Don't."
"Inuyasha." Sango's voice was dry as death.
He looked over to her, and in her he saw a comrade.
"Inuyasha." Her voice was steel. "We will find her."
And they would.
ooOoo
Kagome Higurashi walked out the door and ran into her captor. She looked up at him and he smiled down at her, a cruel, condescending smile. He had known. He had known. He had let her get all that way, just to fail…
And that was when she knew.
There was no escape.
A/N: So, I hope this chapter is thoroughly satisfying. Thanks and love to my wonderful beta, hushisushi, and to everyone who reviewed. You know who you are. All… two of you. Next chapter should be coming up this weekend, so long as doesn't block me from updating again, so, basically, enjoy!