Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha nor any of the characters.
Of Times Long Past
Why did that story hurt?! It hurt so much that he stopped and checked his haori for a moment, and was almost surprised he wasn't bleeding. His mother...A sob threatened to overwhelm him.
"Momma...is there really no princess?" He asked looking up at the sky through the leaves of the Goshinboku. He remembered the tale his mother use to tell him of the princess – the princess that would love him for all he was, not despite his differences but because of them; she'd said so, and he had believed. But, really, the play Kagome was doing was just a story. It wasn't real; and he'd had no experience with any princess to tell him his mother was wrong, so why did it feel like she was? Why did he feel lied to? Was that one of those memories he no longer had?
"Momma...why does it hurt?"
He just wanted...wanted his mother back; wanted to sink into the comforting warmth of her arms and feel safe; wanted to feel her hands brushing his hair, letting him know everything was alright; he didn't want to be lost like this. He didn't want to not know! He...Fat tear drops rolled down his cheeks. He hadn't read aloud since his lessons with his mother. She would hold him and they would read together about princes and princesses and dragons that breathed fire; then she would take out the writing set and show him another one of the Chinese characters. Her brush would dance on paper until the character came to life before him, then she would tell him to try and write it too in that gentle voice of hers that made him think he could do anything – even if his writings always did end up looking like black, disjointed lines. She would tell him again and again how much he was improving, and how proud she was of him. Her scent would wash over him, a testimony to the truth of her words, and his little heart would swell with so much happiness he felt it could burst. More tears pinched his cheeks.
He got up. He didn't want Kagome to find him just yet. She would be upset for him, and that would be awful, especially since he'd probably made her angry by running off.
The storage house beckoned. He entered and closed the door behind him carefully. The musty smell made him sneeze, which set the dust off. More sneezes than he could count later he was still crying into his sleeve, his heart crushed by something he couldn't explain. Lazily, his eyes took in his surroundings. Shelves upon shelves of old brick a-brack and whatnots gathered across the years. His eyes fell on one thing with a resounding thud. It wasperfect. He took it out carefully, lest he damage something already fragile. A little rusty, but after adjusting the bridges a little bit he found it was still very much usable. Picks...picks...He couldn't find anything remotely suggesting it may be containing picks; he decided his nails would do. He took in the graceful arch, the lissom form, the taut strings and he saw everything. His fingers began plucking ever so gently, ever so sadly. He saw the present, he was the past, he knew the future. Everything poured into his hands which glided almost flawlessly along the strings.
How long had it been?
How long had his heart been silent?
Emotion after emotion poured from his eyes, from his hands. He could see his mother bent over her koto, graceful tapered fingers dancing along the strings drawing beauty through sounds. He could see her clear as day: her warm smile, her tears, her love all reflected in her songs.
He didn't care that he was crying, or that he was becoming unable to breathe; nor did he care that his knees were starting to hurt from being used as a pillow on cold ground, nor that his fingers were beginning to numb. The song was his moment. As long as he continued to play, his mother's smile, her words, her voice, her presence would stay with him; he would not be a lone child with a tortured past; as long as he continued to play there was no past, no future just the moment – the glorious-eternal moment.
Author's Note: Ok, so not exactly resolving the cliffy, but working on it.:p Some of you may recognize the reference to my other story, Shadowed Choices. It is done purposefully. Thank you all for the overwhelming response to the last few chapters. It is so incredibly wonderful to know so many of you are following and enjoying this story. :D Thank you!