/a.n./ I know it's been a ridiculously long time since I last updated this collection; but as I previously said, I will update it pretty irregularly unless I somehow get a load of inspiration all at once. Hopefully, when summer rolls around I'll have more time to write. And just as a little note to Random Tigerz of Lily; I'm working on your request, although I can't say when exactly I'll wrap it up. So without further ado... the story! (This is basically set between the last chapter of the manga and the epilouge - or Ep.24 anime)

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#3 - Forgetfulness

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I lie on my bed with my arms crossed tightly across my eyes, blocking away the sun that protrudes into my bedroom from my open window. I savor the comfort of my pillow, a luxury I now have every day. My mom's voice echoes down the corridor and all the way to my room.

"Breakfast is ready!"

Breakfast. I slowly uncross my arms and roll over so I am staring at my desk. The stuffed yellow backpack sits on top of it. As I stare at it, it's almost as if it is staring back at me. I give up on sleeping in when my mother's voice chimes once more. Reluctantly, I get out of bed and trot to the bathroom; where I go through the motions of brushing my teeth and combing my hair as I stare at my reflection in the mirror.

My face is neutral, but inside I am facing an inner dilemma that has been going on and on in my head from the moment I woke up; perhaps even further back than that. I feel guilty for even bringing it up in the first place, but that guilt does little to resolve it.

The dark plaid skirt and blouse are hung on my dresser, along with the black blazer jacket. I put them on robotically; once more going through the motions of pretending this has been my life all along. I stare at my reflection in the mirror; a dark haired girl in a relatively new uniform. My hand lightly brushes against the embroidered logo on the front of my jacket. I should be proud of myself, I really should. But I'm not.

I grab the yellow backpack and head down the stairs, joining Souta, mom and grandpa at the breakfast table. My mother smiles as I sit down and offers me a tottering plate of food. I thank her and manage a forced smile of my own; praying she buys it. The last thing I need is my mom thinking I'm going into depression – and I'm not. Well, not yet anyway.

More than half on the food is still lying on the plate by the time I feel completely full. I guess I'm not used to eating a lot again… I stare at my still full plate for a second, and then shoot my mother an apologetic glance. She nods and takes my plate, dumping most of it on Souta's plate, then dividing the rest into her's and grandpa's.

I excuse myself from the table and sling my backpack over my shoulder, walking out the house with a simple goodbye. My feet unconsciously carry me to the one spot that I now fear the most – the one place that completely brakes me down. I stand in front of the tree, partially paralyzed and think what the hell I'm doing there. As far as I can think, I have no legitimate reason to be standing in front of the Tree of Ages; but my feet have chosen to lead me there.

Somehow, this tree has managed to solve everything up until now. I send a silent message to it, asking it to show me what to do. I get nothing in response. No tingling feeling, not immediate instinct… nothing. I stare up at the rustling leaves and sigh, looking past the tree to the temple. I consider going there, just for the hell of it; but then quickly decide against it.

I don't want to make this harder on myself. It's difficult enough.

Instead, I shift my direction the long line of steps that lead to the road. School. That's what I'm going to focus on. That's why I'm here. So I walk down the busy streets of Tokyo, heading to the train station. People are walking – some even running – in every direction; courtesy of the rush hour. I make my way through the crowds and somehow manage to get the station before the train takes off. The doors close a second after I jump in, my bag almost getting caught in them. That close possibility brings a bittersweet smile to my face; recalling memories of the past, that just a few weeks ago, would have seemed so close to reality. Though now they seem more like a distant dream I was forced to awaken from.

I manage to get to a seat near the window after a bit of struggling. I watch as the city bathed in morning light zooms across my eyes: a blur of gray white and black. The corners of the smile still linger on my lips as a barrage of happy memories play through my mind, locking me in a daze and almost making me miss my stop.

Hurrying out of the train and half walking half running towards the high school building, my mind is still full of moments from the past. It'll most likely stay full for a long time on end… I don't want to forget any of them, no matter how hard they might make my life now. Yes, I am a masochist that way. Nothing new.

I rush into the full classroom just as the bell rings, signaling the start of first period. Taking an empty seat at the far back corner of the room, I try very hard to concentrate on the lesson – but fail miserably. My mind is too full of memories to concentrate on anything else.

Though I' m sitting at a desk in the middle of a classroom, it's like only my body is present, lacking a sufficient brain. My mind wanders off to warm afternoons spent lying to a soft bed of grass, to hiking along the countryside, to staying overnight at the small villages that lace the mountain ranges. It floats off in to the past – a couple hundred years ago – where I used to belong. I recall every battle, every conversation, every smile and every tear… Everything that is now gone.

The rest of the day passes just as every other has passed for the past month or so; just going through the motions of having a normal life once more – as if nothing ever happened.

As I walk back home in the afternoon, my mind is still locked on a handful of images I have been playing over and over again in my head. My favorite memories. Days and hours and minutes I'll probably never get back again. Places I should learn to forget, but can't.

I climb up the steps that lead to the shrine. This time I don't know if the actions are conscious of not, but either way I find myself standing in front of the abandoned temple. I don't have any patience left in me to deal with my own procrastination – I just walk right in.

The well still stands amidst the small room, just as it always has. I walk to it and lean in to get a better look. The shimmery blue void I was so used to seeing is now gone. My hands curve around the rim as I start to tremble. I shouldn't cry, I shouldn't cry, I shouldn't cry… but that is just one of the many things I shouldn't do, that I do anyway.

Fresh tears start to well in my eyes as I stare down into the pit of the well, where the only thing I can see is dirt. Every single memory I had back in the feudal era starts to crash down on me as I lock my eyes on the darkest corner of the well and bite down on my lip to keep from sobbing. Sango, Miroku, Shippo…. Inuyasha. I miss them all. I miss them all so much it's like a physical ache. Like their absence in my life creates a transparent barrier between myself and reality, and each time a try to break it the glass ends up cutting me. One face seems to lurk in my mind more than anyone else's. Silver hair and amber eyes… with those incredibly cute white dog ears... I miss him; more than anything.

My grip around the rim tightens, something I didn't even think possible, and my knuckles blanch even more. Memories and thoughts will continue to torture me as long as I don't let go. I won't let go. I can't let go. As long as I have my silver lining, as long as there's that remote possibility of seeing him – of seeing them again; I can't let the reins go.

It hurts. It hurts too damn much.

Oh forgetfulness… when will you save me from myself?

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