Words: 430
Prompt: Spare
Notes: Originally written on 22 Mar 2009 for the weekly perfection prompt 'spare' at dokuga_contest on LJ. 'Dichotomia' means dichotomy in Latin.
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She felt him stirring inside of her, the dark tendrils of his mind reaching out and grasping, like clawed, bony hands, grabbing her mind and sinking in, taking hold. She shivered, her body rejecting this foreign presence. Sweat began to bead on her skin as her stomach churned dangerously.
Distantly she heard a car speeding down a street, its tires screeching in the quiet night.
What was that?! Sesshoumaru snapped loudly in her mind, his voice tinged with uncharacteristic panic.
Car, she thought back thickly, doubling forwards and clutching her injured arm to herself.
Where am I?
She didn't reply, staggering instead to her feet. Tenseiga glinted under the pale yellow light of the street lamps, and with shaking hands she removed the blade from her chest. It left no mark, no indication of what had happened, but it thrummed with a happy pulse as she held it in her hand, matching her own heartbeat pulse for pulse.
What is this place, Miko?
She groaned, staggering forward and using Tenseiga as a crutch, walking in the direction of home and trying in vain to block out his irritating presence in her mind. Her soul still felt complete, and her spiritual powers lay unlocked, shimmering beneath the pale surface of her skin, waiting...
But he... he was not of her, and her body knew it. She had never felt this ill before, and she certainly never wanted to again. Every fibre of her being seemed to want him expelled, except her soul, which had latched onto him with a temerity that frightened her. He was tearing her apart from the inside - and, rather rudely, he hadn't seemed to have noticed.
She felt the icy touch of his consciousness on her mind, and she saw in her minds eye the image of the well as it had been the fateful day she was pulled down it. The image flickered as he flipped through her memories, not unlike one might flip through a picture book, and visions of her past flashed before her eyes. Miroku opening the wind tunnel, Sango crying, Inuyasha rescuing her from the Noh mask, Inuyasha saying he liked the way she smelled, Inuyasha and Kikyou...
Stop it! she screamed, clamping down hard on her thoughts and shoving him from her mind.
She felt him release her memories, sparing her for now, and she breathed a shaky sigh of relief.
