Chapter Two

Suspicious-Minded

Kagome smoothed her hands over her dress- the pretty, new red dress her mother had purchased for her. Every night of offering meant Kagome got a new dress, and it was almost always a red one. She wasn't certain what the color or purchase date of her attire had to do with anything, but Aiko managed to sneak the dresses into her room each time, often while Kagome was showering in her private bathroom, and had never seen fit to explain the necessity of it. Quite frankly, it made the girl feel a little like she was being presented.

It usually took her a while to get ready, but today Kagome didn't feel like making such a fuss, forgoing the application of any makeup and simply tugging a brush through the long dark waves of her hair before stepping into a pair of black heels and turning towards the mirror. The slip dress, with its simple spaghetti straps and wispy, flowing length that brushed just to her knees, fit perfectly. Sighing heavily at her reflection, she turned on her heel and stepped over to the door. Everyone was already gathered in the parlor, anyway, there seemed no harm in being a few minutes- alright, so perhaps it was more like twenty, but then she'd also skipped washing her hair- ahead of her usual time frame.

Entering the hall, she pulled her door closed behind her and headed for the staircase, listening to the buzzing hum of hushed conversation from her relatives. She couldn't help freezing up for the briefest second . . . was it her imagination, or had that buzzing hum seemed to quiet as she'd neared the top step? Shaking her head at herself- when had she become so very suspicious?- she simply continued down the stairs.

She couldn't shake the feeling that everyone's attention was on her as she neared the foot of the staircase and resisted the urge to shake her head again, but also resisted the urge to raise her eyes to anyone, unwilling to confirm or deny the eerie sensation. Even as a child she'd excelled at compartmentalizing, allowing her to stow away her wary notions, to ignore her anger at her family and their horrid, antiquated traditions until they were on their way back to their own homes and she could stew and grouse about them to her heart's content with only the dozens of porcelain dolls that lined her bedroom's shelves to witness it. Now, though . . . it seemed she'd spent the last day simply trying to contain those thoughts.

It was not until a hand closed gently over hers on the staircase railing that she realized she had paused. Unable to avoid it now, she lifted her gaze from the gnarled and withered fingers that rested over her own to meet the warm eyes of her great aunt Kaede.

Kaede's wizened face folded and crinkled as she smiled at the girl. "Kagome, dear, would you do this old woman a favor?"

Kagome pushed away her private miseries and forced a smile, in the back of her head counting the moments until this old womanstopped touching her hand. "Of course, Aunt Kaede; what do you need?"

Her eyes flickered away from Kagome's for only the very briefest second, seeming to be looking for something over the girl's head- though it wasn't nearly long enough for Kagome to know for certain that she hadn't imagined this- before Kaede swept her free hand out in a dismissive gesture toward the vase in the center of the parlor's coffee table. "Those flowers are beginning to wilt. I know it seems silly, but I consider it an unpleasant reminder of being in my wilting years, myself. Would you kindly go pick some fresh ones from the garden for me?"

"Sure, Aunt Kaede," Kagome said with a light nod, slipping by the old woman's stocky frame and heading for the door; she spared a quick moment to offer the family members she was breezing past a greeting by way of a shallow dipping of her head on her way.

Even as she tugged one of the polished oak double doors open and stepped outside, she still couldn't shake that bizarre feeling- as if the room was collectively breathing a sigh of relief to see her agreeing to not be there right then. She let her back slump against the door for a long moment as she tried to shake the impression. The strangely, suddenly immutable dislike she held for her own blood these past few days was making her imagine things.

Frowning darkly, Kagome pushed away from the door and began walking the cobblestone path that lead from the main entry way to branch in to three directions- the first led straight toward the curving drive way, the second and third both looped backward, around the side of the house toward the garden and expansive, meticulously manicured yard. She began winding her way to the back of the house and . . . paused.

She didn't like thinking the way she had been, being suspicious of the world was a horrible way to feel, but then she wasn't certain her feelings- regardless of what had seeded those feelings- were completely unfounded. Biting deep into her lower lip, she considered it for only the briefest moment before stepping up to the nearest window and peering into the house.

Inside the parlor her cousins, aunts and uncles were milling about, chatting quietly amongst themselves, as they had been when she'd been coming down the stairs. Aunt Kaede, however, had climbed up to the middle of the staircase, looking expectantly toward the back of the upper corridor. The difference between a few moments ago and now was that now everyone seemed to be dividing their attention between whatever conversations they were carrying on and casting fleeting glances toward the front door.

They were checking to see if she was coming back in, there was no mistaking that.

Kagome couldn't seem to make herself move. She wanted to turn away, wanted to think nothing more of this. Maybe her family was simply acting so alert of her presence because she had been behaving just a bit like a spooked kitten since they'd arrived. Maybe she was experiencing nothing more than what the rest of the world called paranoia and if she could simply step away now and get Aunt Kaede her stupid damned flowers she would be able to eventually let these feelings go and put them back into their neat little box in the recesses of her mind.

Just as she thought she'd talked herself into ignoring her suspicions, into turning away from that window, she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Aunt Kaede was waving her pudgy arms, gesturing almost frantically at someone at the end of the corridor. Turning her head to look, Kagome saw that her mother and grandfather were emerging from the attic stair case, and in her grandfather's hands was the vessel- the small, ornately painted urn in which their family pet's offering was supposedly held.

What could it mean? Kagome felt her heart thud painfully in her chest as she tried to sort out her thoughts. Why would they be coming down from Kikyou's room with that?

Her legs seemed to lose their strength and nearly before she knew it, she felt herself hitting the ground on her knees. This couldn't mean anything. Kagome shook her head, pushing a shaky hand through her hair. That urn was so small- about the size of a porcelain sugar bowl- it couldn't hold much of anything. No, no there had to be some sense to this.

Perhaps . . . perhaps because the offering was meant to be presented by the family and Kikyou couldn't be there during the ceremony they brought it up to her so she could pray over it, as well?

That actually made sense. Kagome forced herself to drag in a deep breath and let it out slowly, sensation and warmth flooding back into limbs and digits that she hadn't even realized had gone numb and cold until she was able to feel them again. This ceremony was a practice upheld approximately once a month, which meant the only deviation tonight had been her coming down from her room early. They couldn't be doing something harmful to Kikyou- her sister would have told her- and if they all still assumed Kagome was unaware of Kikyou's presence in the attic, then that could explain why they didn't want her to see her mother and grandfather coming down from there. Kagome knew she'd proved herself a curious child and keeping her from seeing something she might consider unusual would stop her from asking questions they were not prepared to answer.

Breathing a sigh of relief, though she still disliked most of the people gathered under her roof right now, she sternly reminded herself that she needed to get Aunt Kaede's flowers. She gave herself a brief shake and braced her palms against the grass to push herself up, immediately turning and taking a few steps away from the window when a sudden, skin-crawling tingle arced across her shoulders; so potent, so disorienting for a moment that she found herself on the ground again.

She wasn't alone.

There was someone behind her, so close she thought she could feel the warmth of that someone's skin hovering just against hers. Kagome snapped her head to one side as fast as she could, dark hair fanning out around her as she cast wide, alert eyes over her shoulder. Nothing.

She tried to draw in a breath, to calm her jangled nerves, but her body refused to obey her. There was no one there- she could plainly see that there was no one there- yet the sensation that was edging like ice water around her brain and making her heart thunder in her chest was still there.

In a fleeting hope, she lifted her gaze to the parlor window, wanting to see if perhaps one of her relatives was there, watching her; hoping the feeling was just an overreaction to not seeing who was around her. No one. Frowning and trying to get a reign on her feelings, she lowered eyes, examining the blades of grass beneath her fingers.

It was still there . . . the feeling of it, so close, so solid, so very real was tangible as the ground beneath her and she couldn't help raising her eyes once more. Still there was nothing, but . . . . She'd never noticed it before- that narrow window all but completely obscured by the twining vines that had grown up to swallow the lower section of the house.

Kagome felt her breath hitch in her throat and began creeping forward on her knees, not really conscious of the effort until she found herself already moving. Her hands lifted tentatively to pull at the rope-like limbs, but they stubbornly refused to give more than a few measly centimeters in any direction. The sensation continued to ebb and flow around her, as though she could feel it breathing against her skin, but it grew no more pronounced than it had already been.

Giving a determined frown, she leaned forward, half-expecting what she should see, but not certain at all if she would be right. Sheshould be looking at the cellar- there was nothing else to find in that section of the house. She found herself peering into that odd little room that never seemed to be used for anything.

The feeling died away so suddenly that Kagome gave a small start at the absence of it.

She forced a gulp down her throat. As much as she wanted to chock this up to coincidence, she simply couldn't. It just felt so much like whatever had been around her mere moments ago had wanted to know she was aware of that room. Her brow furrowed at the very idea of that.

Kagome slapped herself squarely on the cheek, wincing instantly at the mild sting it caused, and shook her head- now she was assigning motives to her odd little impressions?

"Okay, Aunt Kaede's flowers . . ." she grumbled determinedly as she miserably dragged herself up to stand and at last trudged her way over to the flowerbed.