Disclaimer: All characters from the series Inuyasha that appear in this fanfic rightfully belong to Rumiko Takahashi. I do not own anything in regards to their creation; I have Rumiko Takahashi to thank for that.
Author's Notes: To everyone who do celebrate it, I wish all a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! It's hard to believe that the year 2023 is drawing to a close and that another anniversary of this story is approaching. I'm also proud to announce that the fanfic has finally hit the milestone of having 100 favorite!
On the topic of followers, it seems that the fanfiction website is still not fully fixed as I'm still having problems with the view counts and even the notifications on occasions. I'm not sure how many readers will therefore be informed of this chapter's update upon its initial release. Hence, I'll just put a little note here that if anyone is interested in getting a prompt notification on a new update in the future, it may be worth subscribing to this story over on archiveofourown. I post over there simultaneously and also answer reviews/feedback on that site, even if my responses are not as frequent as here. So feel free to visit that site and I would appreciate any support!
As usual, thank you to all those who are supporting this story and a big thank you to Shion Lee for the reviews.
Shion Lee: Hi there! It's awesome to have another reader for this fic and I hope that you're enjoying yourself with this story.
…
…
…
(No beta-reader is currently available for the chapter).
Chapter 46-New Beginning, Old Identity
"The names of my foes mean nothing to me. At the end of the day, they cease to exist." -Sesshomaru on name
"So long as you are with a name, you exist in this world as an individual, separated from all those around you." -Kikyo on name
"—An era of darkness when demons roamed the land, and innocent humans were forced into hiding. The Great Continent was divided into four, each plagued by violence and death—"
Higurashi Kagome listened absentmindedly. History class was the perfect time for her musings to wonder as her teacher's words faded into the background.
Their subject of focus was the Feudal Era. Three days wasn't a reasonable amount of time to become an expert on the topic. Yet, she was somehow eerily familiar with it, even before her teacher finished the introduction. Living in a shrine with a grandfather who loved going into depths about legends of old did offer prior knowledge. Nevertheless, she had always tuned his eagerness out, having no particular interest in the area. So why was there a vast amount of knowledge regarding that era stored inside her brain? It was an eerie thought. More importantly, there was a kind of familiarity — not from being told about it from another source — but as if she had experienced the stories first-hand.
'But that's just silly. It's impossible.' Her fingers twitched underneath the table, absentmindedly toying with the hem of her green skirt. As if reminding her of another oddity, she became very aware of how short the clothing was. As someone who wore her uniform daily — and even on many other occasions — it was strange that she found it uncomfortable. Rather than feeling like a second layer of skin, it made her feel exposed and cold. Why? She never had any problem with it before. Right?
"Okay, class. That's the basics. Before we continue, I want to hear some of your thoughts. Specifically, why do you think demons ate humans? It's a fundamental facet that made coexistence between the two races untenable." Her teacher's words yanked her away from her idle musings, and her eyes regained focus on the speaker.
"Our objective is simple to express yet difficult to realize… What we wish for, from the bottom of our hearts, is to change the world." The remark came to her mind unbidden, echoing like a distant lullaby as the other students looked up from their thick textbooks and began their discussions in whispers.
"Is it because they found humans tasty? Maybe their taste buds worked differently from us." The classmate sitting two seats to her right – she had to remind herself that she was one of her three friends, Ayumi — raised her hand and brought up a point that would've sprung as the first thought.
"I would think we were easier to hunt back then, with only primitive weapons to defend ourselves with," a classmate whose name slipped her mind pepped in.
She considered the points. From simple observations, humans' comparative fragility was apparent in the differences in their anatomy to beings such as demons. More commonly, demons had defenses against threats — a thick hide, poisonous skin, or other protective measures to deter their opponents. Humans, on the other hand, were vulnerable with their soft skin and breakable bones that required careful care and support to mend effectively. While demons could withstand and endure a lot more, humans required greater care and attention.
In the world of demons, only the strong persisted. The weak were either left to rot or be devoured. However, this didn't mean the demons fought every time they came across their kin. Instead of risking injury by battling someone capable of wounding them, one could see why demons would favor predating upon humans for food and shelter. It made sense for demons to attack those perceived as weaker than to engage in a potentially dangerous and costly fight.
"Well, or maybe demons didn't actually enjoy eating humans and it was just a part of their tradition." Yuka, a girl she remembered as the second of her trio friends, contributed her opinion.
That was another reasonable speculation. Much like humans, demons were generalized eaters, having different preferences depending on the individual and species. If humans were simply more accessible, it might have evolved into a form of normalcy to devour them even when there were other options.
'There's more,' her inner voice spoke, 'Some youkai sought humans with spiritual powers—'
Something inside her was tingling. Brown eyes witnessed a flash of red in the sky.
'—to consume them since their flesh and blood could amplify demonic powers. From old traditions, there were sacrifices made in villages to appease bloodthirsty youkai.'
"That's scary…" she overheard a classmate behind her mumbling to a friend, "They ate humans because they can rather than because they have to. I'm glad they are all gone now."
'Gone?' As though a gun had suddenly manifested and was pointed at her head, all of the muscles in her body froze and her heartbeat missed its next tempo. 'Wait? Gone? That cannot be—'
A large circular red object entered her visage and she noticed its golden spokes.
"No. They're gone." A young feminine voice that sounded far too cheery to be hers rang out from within. "The books we read yesterday say that all demons perished during the Revolutionary Period. Remember The Great Purge?"
The knowledge came to her in a flash. The Great Purge was a revolutionary event when all spiritually aware humans assembled to form a great hunt. Together with military forces, they managed to exterminate all supernatural beings, effectively placing humans at the top of nature's hierarchy.
Thus, the Modern Era came; it was the period in which normal high-school students like her lived. Enjoying dinner with her family. Attending school with the intent of getting into one of the highest-ranked colleges. Spending time with her friends, Ayame, Eri, and Yuka. Going out with Hojo-kun. Participating in the archery club — where holding onto a bow brought her an inexplicable sense of security. Her life was for her to enjoy to her heart's content, so much so that one had to wonder what kind of merits she must have performed in her previous life to deserve these entitlements.
Yet, something felt wrong.
This perfect normal life of hers was everything she could have wished for. But deep down, there was a part of her that instinctively knew she could not — must not — let this reality continue.
The bright classroom transformed into someplace dark and cold.
Her vision blurred. Black spots materialized and vanished in an instant. A headache erupted, discouraging her to continue. Regardless, she stubbornly refused to let go of the issue, determined to unravel the glaring discrepancies that were becoming ever more apparent. The more she pondered, the more she felt unnerved by her own behavior. All of her life decisions reflected that of a young cheerful teenage girl. But that wasn't who she was supposed to be. Her memories depicted a girl who enjoyed texting friends and shopping. Yet, she felt a penchant for spending her leisure reading books and helping people with ailments.
'What is wrong with me?' Her breathing quickened and her head throbbed like someone had driven a hammer down her skull. The more she tried reflecting on the misplaced sensation, the more it hurt to think.
"Higurashi, can you hear me? Stop spacing out in my class." Her teacher's voice echoed in the background. When she did not respond, repetitions of her name followed, though it did not become any more familiar to her.
'My name? Higurashi? No… That is not my name.' That acknowledgment ravaged something inside her head. From the black void that was her mind emerged a life-shattering realization. '...This is not my life.'
Higurashi Kagome was the name of the young girl blessed with a wonderful life. She was not this girl. While she could instinctively sense they were of the same origin, she knew they existed as different individuals. Deeply intertwined like the two sides of a coin, yet simultaneously as different as the moon was from the sun. Her existence was much like the gentle moon. In the dark, she served as an illuminance for the lost. But in this era, things were bright and at peace. Thus, she was cast aside, substituted by the consciousness that radiated warmth and joy like the sun.
'If I am not Kagome, then who...?'
"That's the real question, isn't it? Who are you?" A whisper came from behind her, so close that it immediately yanked her away from her reverie.
Her surroundings reshaped themselves, returning the classroom to her line of sight. That was when she noticed the concerned eyes on her. She blinked, clearing away the last of her trance. Her teacher immediately noticed, and her sigh of relief was very auditable now that she stood no more than a step away from her student's desk. When had she gotten so close? And why was she so alarmed by that thought?
"Higurashi, I'm glad you snapped out of it. You were unresponsive and seemed flushed. Are you feeling unwell?" the teacher inquired, with a hand reaching out to brush back her student's uneven bangs to check her temperature.
"Excuse me, sensei, may I take Higurashi Kagome to the infirmary for a check-up?"
'That voice again!' With a sharp turn of her head, she saw a boy with an eye color identical to his short red hair. If the lack of recollection of him as a fellow student made her wary, then the fact that he wasn't wearing their school uniform amplified her concerns. He was clad in what appeared to be a middle-school track uniform, which included black pants and a coat with white linings along the edges of the collar.
Other than her, no one else seemed to notice the peculiarity. Her teacher even nodded in approval. "That's a good idea. Rokuko, please take her to see the school nurse."
"Of course," the odd boy replied with a nod that simultaneously served as a gesture to follow.
She had no incentive within her rational perspective to comply. Despite this, she found herself following the mysterious stranger with red hair and red eyes, behaving as if her movements were not within her control and she couldn't refuse.
Their trek through the school halls went uninterrupted. They arrived at the infirmary, finding it empty. The absence of the nurse was unusual, yet she knew that things, as ordinary as they appeared, were not what they seemed here. Even simple devices like a manual door seemed to be manipulated at somebody's behest. As the stranger led her in, the door automatically closed behind them.
"Huh, it looks like you really have been thinking too much. Unless I return you to where you should be, there's a high risk of shattering this bubble of space. I bet that would be bad for some now, wouldn't it?" With his back turned to her and his tone unrevealing, there was little she could decipher from the enigma in front of her other than the feeling that he was neither human nor a demon — another oddity that should've perturbed her but didn't.
"Who, or should I say, what are you?" With so little control over the situation and her body, she was surprised when her throat worked to articulate the question dancing in her mind. Her voice did sound different, though it was a quirk she rapidly dismissed, deeming it insignificant for the time being.
"My name is Rokuko Rinne," he said, turning around to face her. As their eyes met, his pair of rubies exuded a blaze of unearthly power that pierced into her soul. "Though it doesn't really matter who or what I am. What matters is that you're being judged, and we should be focusing on that."
"Are you here to judge me then? Have you brought me here, trapped me in this place, so that you may condemn me?" As soon as those words left her lips, the teenager calling himself Rokuko Rinne dug his hand into one of his pockets. She tensed, expecting some kind of weapon, yet the plastic packet he revealed was anything but that.
"I skipped lunch just to get here as fast as possible once I noticed that something was up in the Netherworld. But don't worry, I'll get to the explanations as soon as I'm done eating, okay?" The rhetorical question was as abysmal as his sense of timing. In her honest opinion, now was not the time to be eating. Yet, he displayed a casual nonchalance as he proceeded to tear open the package, revealing a loaf of bread. He dug his teeth into it, consuming it with the fervent passion of a starving individual, not letting a single crumb go to waste.
She could only watch, dumbfounded, as he scrunched the rubbish into a ball before casually lobbing it into the nearest bin with perfect accuracy.
"Now," he said, swallowing the last of his food. "I wouldn't go as far as to say you're trapped. If you want a chance at another future, you must regain the essence that makes you who you are. Right now, the life you have is an illusion. But it can be a potential future for you. This life of peace can become your soul's refuge if you want it to be. Are you understanding?"
Dosed with a wealth of information that would have left many either baffled, confused, or skeptical, her mind worked diligently to sort through the facts, determined to provide her with an answer that would disperse the mist of confusion. From what she could tell, it seemed like she could either stay put, accepting the current circumstances as they were, or rebel and strive for the opportunity to regain her former identity and subsequently another future.
'Simple to express in words, yet difficult to accomplish,' a witty part of herself noted drily. Her brain was still trying to comprehend the current situation. Hardly was she prepared to make a decision that would seemingly determine her fate. At least not without all of the relevant pieces of the puzzle.
The red-haired stranger seemed to be waiting for her response. He had come to her school — no, Higurashi Kagome's school — for a reason, even going as far as to utilize some kind of magic to masquerade as one of her classmates. At this point, she wasn't even certain if his human form was authentic or if it was another layer of disguise. A closer scrutiny revealed a strange aura from the teenager. Only a part of him felt alive, while the majority of his composition gave a touch of death.
Her brain spun quickly, formulating a theory that should not have been considered a possibility were she truly an ordinary fifteen-year-old girl. Inclined to gauge his reaction, she conveyed her educated guess with more confidence in her voice than she actually had. "If I continue as I am now, I will lose myself and cease to exist as the very person I was meant to be. Is this what you desire, Rinne the shinigami? Have you come to reap my soul?"
"Clever... Even with the handicap that he has given you. But I'm actually a shinigami of sorts, with no motive other than to fill you in on what you should know. Tricking people who aren't supposed to die into the afterlife yet is dirty. I'm not a damashigami. So unless you're willing to die, I won't be harvesting your soul." With his identity exposed, the reaper of death manifested his kind's customary weapon and clothing, no longer seeing any meaning in concealing them. His scythe, used for harvesting souls and vanquishing evil spirits, appeared in his hand. Concurrently, a white haori with red inscriptions of a wheel towards the lower half draped over his black jacket and pants.
She found her sights darting over to the weapon before becoming transfixed on the wheel adorning the white fabric.
The red object and its golden spokes became clear to her, floating in the air of a colorful sky. Souls — including hers — with a humanoid shape were lined up, patiently waiting to enter.
The realization hit like a lightning bolt inside her.
"This cannot be! The Wheel of Reincarnation… It has caught me in its turning and I'm being pulled into its cycle," she murmured, half-stunned and half in disbelief. Her 'grandfather' had once spoken of a legend: A mystic wheel stood in the Underworld, serving as the final destination for all human souls before reincarnation. Although their bodies were transient, their souls were said to be eternal while governed by the laws of the wheel.
"Yes," Rinne nodded, his face serious. "If you recall, you were forcefully separated from your companion when you ended up in the Netherworld. Your soul was spirited away and thrown into the Wheel of Reincarnation. It'll be your turn soon. You're going to become a teenage girl called Higurashi Kagome. This plane of existence is a sort of dream, built to allow you a glimpse of that reality before you're erased."
"For what reason was this dream created?"
"It's to minimize the chance of your resistance. Normally, a human soul isn't strong enough to reject the wheel. Yours, however, is a different story," the red-haired paused, hoisting his large weapon to point it in her direction, with its bladed tip angled towards the floor. "Your soul is not only ancient for a human's but it also radiates with the power of purity. It is one of a kind, and that's even without the ties you have with the Shikon Jewel. Out of caution, he wants to let you believe that reincarnating isn't necessarily a bad thing. Your soul will find salvation, freed from the suffering you've been enduring all this time."
Considering the blissful experience of this normalcy, it was so tempting to let things be. Even if she was going to be replaced by another individuality, she instinctively knew that her weary soul would be salvaged and she would know eternal peace. Yet, tenacity seemed to be a trait embedded deep into her core. A part of her fervently objected, pointing out that this passive acceptance would equate to giving up. She was going to lose everything that defined her and that was unacceptable.
"And what if I wish to reject this supposed future?" she asked quietly, yet with a firm stance highlighting her underlying defiance.
A moment of tense silence dropped before the shinigami lowered his scythe, his arm returning to his side. "I can send you back to fulfill that terrible destiny that the gods have bound you to. But keep in mind that oblivion awaits, and you won't have the extravagance of being reincarnated."
The warning presented sounded obscure. But at the very least, it aided her in understanding the two options — if she could call them options. It was either submitting to death at this moment and allowing her soul to find peace in its reincarnated form, or continuing to live her life and ultimately meeting a horrific demise once everything was done.
'To concede would spare me further agony… Yet, why is it that I cannot help but grieve over the notion of departing?' Ultimately, she realized the root of everything was within one question: who was she? For her to consider her alternatives thoroughly, she needed to recollect the answer to that key question.
'Who am I?' Armed with that inquiry, she dug around for her memories. The images of her family, her childhood, and the various experiences throughout her life flashed in vibrant colors. However, they weren't what she sought. 'Hmmm… these memories came to me unconsciously and without effort. It is clear to me that whoever crafted this dream-like world seeks to influence my decisions.'
An urge to figure out the unknown surged through, spurring her to solve the mysteries even if only to spite the one trying to force her obedience. Any hope of escaping this illusion began with finding and differentiating herself from Higurashi Kagome. With a deep breath to compose herself, she shut her eyes, uncaring that she was leaving herself exposed to the shinigami. Under any other circumstance, she supposed she ought to be more prudent towards the red-haired offering assistance without any explanation, even going as far as defying a greater power. Nevertheless, she was in a situation where regaining her sense of self took precedence over being wary of someone who did seem genuine.
In a trance-like state that resembled meditation, she submerged herself into her consciousness and permitted only one thought to surface: who was she? She felt the answer was dangling within an arm's length, yet hidden from her in plain sight. At present, her mind resembled the depth of an ocean, and she felt akin to a sailor struggling to journey past the fog that had wrapped everything within its shroud.
She forced herself to ignore the throbbing migraine and swiped at the mist. Through the impediment, she saw a circular object come into existence. Small enough to rest easily in her cupped palms, it emanated a mystical pink glow that radiated with a concept as profound as life itself.
One word filtered through with the appearance of the pink jewel — Duty. She directed her attention to it and everything that it encompassed. A dogmatic voice, though distorted due to the fog, reached her ears with the confidence that could convert even the most improbable tasks into a statement of certainty.
"If your intention is to die, then mine is to ensure that you live until the end of time. I shall extricate your fate from the burden that is the jewel, confiscate it, and have you by my side, alive and well. The circumstance that confines you to the west has not changed. You are mine, will remain mine, for me to deal with as I desire."
Although she still lacked context, the proclamation conveyed the image of someone who exuded egotistical pride. Her mind envisioned an individual with a mane of silver rimming his well-defined face, where two magenta stripes embellished each side of his cheeks. Positioned on the center of his forehead was a beautiful adornment in the shape of a crescent moon, left untouched by his short yet perfectly aligned bangs. What captivated her the most, however, was the pair of golden orbs. They glistened with the radiance of a blazing sun, brimming with the drive for success.
S–
She stiffened, her heart missing its next regular beat. No matter how hard she tried to form the proud warrior's name, it continued to elude her. Much like her own name, she knew it was in her memories. Nonetheless, both were stashed away, inaccessible due to an invisible barrier keeping her away.
'His name… I know it… yet, why can I not say it? Why? He is important… I can sense it…' Elegant, majestic, and omnipotent were the adjectives that drifted into existence, and even they felt inadequate when describing the figure that she knew was a significant component of rediscovering her identity.
She centered her thoughts on him and found herself sinking into the alluring melody that was his deep monotonous voice.
"Name. I will have the name of the one who is valiant to stand before me and challenge me."
"I doubt you are one to yield. As I've said, it would be a waste of my time to interrogate you."
"I can. I have no intention of interfering if that is what you desire. However, I see no reason why you must go alone."
His voice was the embodiment of the freezing glaciers. But on several occasions when speaking to her, she could detect the warmth concealed underneath the land of snow.
Sess–
"You lack the strength and skill to defeat me. Know that the sole reason for your humiliating defeat is because you have chosen to oppose me."
"Hmph, you assert that I have no right to rule over the feeble lives of mortals. That is where you are wrong. For I, Sess******, possess the power to control both life and death in my hand."
"I need no advice from a lowly human. You only need to obey and enlighten me on the future you foresee. That is all."
"Fate, you say? How absurd."
Frost now covered his every word and no longer was there any lingering warmth. In place, she detected bitterness and apathy towards her and everyone else he spoke to. It was like the light in him had been completely quenched by a dark desire, a temptation that enhanced his callousness and insensitivity.
Sessh–
"—And rest well. Tomorrow, we will return to the Western Palace without my infantry. I shall confer on you a solution to retrieve the jewel that is far more pertinent than yours."
"*****, I see time has done nothing to curb your meddlesome nature. You're still prone to sticking your nose — or talisman — into places you need not be in."
"Accompany me if you so desire. I'll allow it. It would be a foolish endeavor to leave you unsupervised. You must, however, remain close to me."
He was still nonchalant as ever. But unlike the previous fragments of recollections that were chronically shuffled, there was a subtle hint of emotions returning. They were like the budding greenery in spring, covered by snow. However, with patience and nurture, the beauty that was his sentiments could blossom.
Sessho–
In the sea that was her consciousness, the majestic figure of her memories manifested in the middle of the foggy waters, his boots hovering just above the surface to create slight ripples. Instinctively, she extended her hand toward him, only to be stopped as the water between them raptured, turning into a tsunami that attempted to sweep her away. She gritted her teeth, averse to giving up when the answer was within reach. Renewed strength from his voice and words coursed through her as she fought against the torrent. The force rained down on her felt equivalent to being battered by a multitude of fists. Still, she struggled against it, extending her hand through the sheen of water.
Her hand was met with a firm grip, and in that instant, all was calm as everything returned to her.
"Sesshomaru…" she whispered, testing the name with slightly trembling lips. Her heart soared in elation with the utterance. The vast expanse of the water that had tried to obstruct her disappeared as they found each other. Her brown eyes pierced the depths of his golden ones with vigor. Despite him being a fragment of her imagination, his gaze shimmered with the same empyrean intensity that declared his might.
"However, I can assure you that my life belongs to you. I will permit no one else to take my life. Will an oath like this suffice?"
Ringing in her ears was the resolute commitment she made before entering the Meido. Her other hand unconsciously hovered over her waist. There existed an odd sensation of warmth where Sesshomaru had previously wrapped his arm around her as they leaped into the vortex, as if the phantom heat had managed to linger.
"... No. Fight in earnest to live, Kikyo. Fight to live your life to its fullest potential. That is what I, Sesshomaru, now desire from you."
"What shall it be for you, Kikyo? Will you seal our pact and accompany me, now and evermore?"
Kikyo.
As her name appeared within her thoughts, an ethereal light was unleashed, scattering the fog that had kept everything encapsulated. The sea disappeared entirely as she burst out of her mindscape and returned to reality. Brown orbs opened, revealing a glint of indefatigable determination. A demeanor more befitting of a seasonal warrior than an ignorant schoolgirl took over as she stared at the shinigami and announced, "I know now. I am the miko Kikyo. This existence is that of Higurashi Kagome, not my own."
"You have chosen the hardest path, miko Kikyo. A path that will be filled with hardships and tribulations till the very end," Rinne uttered, and she sighted a brief, humorless smile appearing across his face before vanishing as swiftly as it had originally arrived.
She imitated his expression before tilting her head to exhibit gratitude for the discreet guidance that he had provided her. "Once I might have been lured, tempted, and tricked by the enticement. However, nevermore. I have made a solemn promise to someone whom is precious to me. I will succumb neither to destiny nor death's icy touch. When the time to die finally arrives, it shall not be in the grasp of fate but on my own terms."
In tandem with her firm declaration, the lights in the room flickered. Or, so she had initially supposed, until she perceived that the flickering did not solely apply to the ceiling. The entire room was trembling as if to mimic the action of a candle's flame when exposed to a turbulent gust.
"Oh, it looks like your rejection of this dream has caused everything to start to crumble. It's on the verge of shattering into nothingness," Rinne commented, his voice tranquil as he scanned his surroundings. The normally white infirmary had turned gray. What looked like serrated cracks began to stretch across the space. Letting his weapon disperse into a particle of light, he flicked his wrist and summoned a robe similar to the one he was wearing into his waiting palm. "Here, take it. The Yomi no Haori is the reason you've landed yourselves here in the first place."
He more or less shoved the clothing into her hold without an opportunity for her to fully process the occurrence. Instinctively taking it into her possession, she comprehended that their meeting was about to end and permitted one nagging question to be articulated. "If I'm not mistaken, we are unfamiliar with each other. Why? I wish to know why are you supporting me, lending me aid in this endeavor."
"It's for an old friend, someone who's had your well-being on her mind for the longest time." His voice was getting distorted when it reached her ears, almost as though her ears were muffled by something.
"Who?" There was no time going through the list of the individuals she had known as there were far too many faces to recall. Adding onto that, the intermingling with Kagome's memories made her task all the more complicated.
"Oh don't worry about that. You're about to find out."
"Thank you," she uttered, giving genuine appreciation that she wasn't sure had reached him. The last thing she saw before her vision was overtaken by darkness was a grin from the kind red-haired stranger who saved her existence.
A brilliant sheet of white covered her field of vision.
Kikyo was less than pleased with her predicament. Not only was the Wheel of Reincarnation nowhere in sight, but neither were the souls of the deceased waiting for their turn to enter the cycle of rebirth. Instead, all around her was an emptiness shrouded in mist and snow, stretching in all directions for as far as she could see. Apparently, she had to go through an existential crisis to escape one dream-like landscape, only to be trapped in a place similar to the last.
Clearly, there were more trials ahead.
Her fingers twitched. A combination of annoyance and weariness triggered impatience. She found herself tempted to do what Sesshomaru did best, namely to solve the problem using brute force rather than wits. Just as she was about to summon her powers to shatter the illusion, the fog in front of her parted, unveiling a route leading toward a ruined village.
Her eyes narrowed at the invitation. 'So be it. I shall follow and see what you wish for me to see.'
No stranger to the sight of desolate buildings, scorched terrain, and the lifeless bodies of humans and demons littering the floor, the miko merely kept a vigilant look around as she ventured in. The haori of the underworld that Rinne had gifted her was unornamented and thinner compared to the one the shinigami wore, though it served well to keep the snowflakes off her hair as she draped it over her head like a veil.
She roamed, and the putrid scent of death suffused each corner, becoming particularly intense at one partially broken house near the edge of the village. Her aura felt a small tug that pulled her toward it. Unable to resist, she peeked into the interior through the doorway that was slightly ajar. As her eyes slowly adjusted to the lack of light, she discerned the remains of destroyed furniture and the mangled corpse of a reptilian youkai sprawled in the center. Whoever had done the slaying hadn't been merciful. The head had been completely blown off by an explosive force of power, leaving the rest of the body in a mess of blood, bones, and flesh. Her brown orbs skimmed over the remains before landing on the culprit by the corner.
Barely noticeable due to the obstructive carcass was a little girl looking no more than five, her body bent into a ball with her head buried in her legs. In the clear aftermath of a terrible fight, her red and white garment was caked in blood and dirt and her mid-length raven hair was coming loose from the white ribbon that was frayed around the edges. Although the place was hardly habitable, the girl slept without any care, obviously too tired to mind the pungent odor or the presence of the newcomer advancing toward her.
Kikyo was not the kind of individual to spend time looking at mirrors, — that was a Kagome thing, her wits commented — but it did not take long for her to realize that she was looking at a younger reflection of herself. Had the child been awake, then there was no doubt she would be gazing into eerily similar mahogany pools, just perhaps less sharpened from ordeals.
The girl shivered and shifted a little from her seated position but did not wake. The miko watched, morbidly intrigued that she had been so fragile-looking back then. While the night was chilly and some snow had found its way through the openings of the hut, it should not have warranted such a display of weakness. As the notion surfaced, she found herself inwardly amused. She had been spending too much time around Sesshomaru that she was beginning to act and sound like him. 'Or perhaps I am merely trying to find myself beneath the skins I have been forced to wear…'
"Are you going to stand idly while this poor child is in distress?" A sudden voice sounded next to her.
Having been caught oblivious, Kikyo whirled around and promptly squinted her eyes at the light that had been the source of the sound. The radiance diminished, exposing a familiar figure donned in a miko garment with the supplementary protective layer of a samurai's armor.
Despite her self-disciplined emotions, Kikyo couldn't mask her shock as she stared at her mentor standing before her in her full glory. Beautiful fair features and black tresses that curtained her back, ending around her waist at an abrupt straight cut. True to her namesake, her eyes were as warm and magnificent as the lush forest. Every inch of her sensei was celestial even without the pinkish light that outlined her translucent form.
"Sensei…" The student could barely formulate a word amidst all the emotions that welled up and threatened to clog her throat. All of a sudden, she felt like she had returned to her early years, back when everything in the world felt colossal to her and she had been in dire need of guidance. There was the greatest of all urges to heed a child's habit of clutching her teacher's — and perhaps even a parental figure's — hakama and burying her face into it. She barely suppressed that temptation and instead worked to regain her voice. "Sensei… I've missed you."
"And I'm pleased to see you once more, Kikyo." Unlike her student, Midoriko had no trouble finding her voice. A gentle smile graced her stunning countenance, but only for a moment before it morphed into a stern expression usually reserved for one of her lectures. "However, we have little time for pleasantries. I would like to remind you that you're not the small child I once took from the temple. You are Kikyo, my successor, the strongest miko, and the protector of the Shikon Jewel. You would do well to never forget that."
Kikyo instinctively flinched. Shameful as it was to admit it, her words cut deep, for she had indeed lost her sense of self only a while ago. While it was the violation of a far more powerful being, she could not deny that she had been careless, perhaps even overconfident with Sesshomaru by her side. The Netherworld was an unforgiving place and had punished her conceited attitude by stripping her of what made her who she was. She would have been lost forever had it not been for the intervention from Rinne. '... He did speak of a favor from an old friend… Can it be?'
A grateful smile found her countenance as the miko tested her assumption. "My gratitude, Sensei. It was you who instructed Rinne to offer me aid, was it not? Though… I must have disappointed you, for you found the incentive to appear before me with the reminder as opposed to having Rinne deliver it."
"True. Calling upon my cherished friend — whom I owe for preserving my soul and impeding its inevitable pull toward the Wheel of Reincarnation — to act as a messenger on my behalf would have achieved the desired result. Nonetheless, it would have denied me a grand opportunity. I wish to speak to you one last time and see the powerful woman you've matured into. Hence, I lured you into this plane, one that could manifest me as a phantom from your recollections."
"My recollections? I see. So that's why she is here," the current keeper of the Shikon Jewel mumbled to herself in understanding as she glanced over toward her child self.
The former guardian followed her gaze, an unreadable shimmer in her emerald orbs. "Yes, that child is you. She's here to reenact the memory of being forced to wait for her sensei, alone in the darkness. Look, she's shivering. You have a hoari. Will you leave her in misery?"
"She is fine. Strength is forged through ordeals. What does not kill her will only serve to make her stronger and more resilient." Indifference found her features. Were it anyone else, then Kikyo would have offered help without consideration. However, this was herself; she knew all too well of her own tolerance. A mental voice triggered with the notion, jabbing at her for sounding more and more like a certain pompous daiyoukai.
"Hn, while you have indeed changed, I suppose a part of you remains. You show compassion for all but yourself. Would you have been so harsh had you not known that she is you?" Midoriko walked over and crouched down to pick up the child, coddling her as a mother would to a daughter. From Kikyo's perspective, it was unnecessary, considering that the girl was merely a projection of past events. Whatever the two did, it would have no tangible effect on the current reality. Still, her drying throat betrayed the conflicting feelings that the situation presented to her as she watched the girl subconsciously relax in the comfortable hold.
"I had been late on that night," her sensei commented softly, supporting the child with one hand while the other brushed aside a strayed lock of hair. "I had not anticipated the number of adversaries we were required to engage with. You were separated from Tsubaki and myself during the fight and had to fend for yourself. I had feared the worst, but you exceeded my expectation, having slayed the cause of our separation by yourself."
Their gazes landed on the youkai's remains, and Kikyo could not help but interiorly criticize how messy her first solo kill had been. In hindsight, the blast generated from her primal instinct was excessively overpowered but imprecise. Although it did destroy the enemy, it had exhausted her completely. It was a display of incompetence. A blow with such high energy input should have turned the youkai into ashes instead of leaving behind such a mess.
As if connected to her telepathically, Midoriko seemed to have caught her berating herself and let an audible sigh out to interrupt her student's train of thought. "Are you contemplating how you should have performed better? Instances arose when I also posed thoughts of this nature to myself. Death has granted me a new prospect, now that I am unafflicted by the woes of the mortal realm. If I had taught you to direct kindness toward yourself before others, would you have learned the value of your own life? Your life is in no way inferior to the people who you wish to save. However, I had permitted destiny to take its course and imparted no consideration to your self-worth and the unfair burden heaped onto your shoulders."
"Sensei, I do not hold you responsible. You shared my predicament. You taught me all I needed to survive and fulfill the duty entrusted to me. I am aware of other inheritors who were granted no direction and left to uncover their legacies on their own. Should you not have been at my side and aided me in my time of need, I fear I might have succumbed to death long ago. And for this, I am forever indebted to you." Quick to defend her mentor, she refuted rapidly with a solemn shake of the head.
"Do not express your gratitude toward me, Kikyo. Never. The duty of finding balance among the realms was given to you from birth, heedless of your own wishes. From the moment you were born, I foresaw your fate as the Holy Entity. It was I who encouraged you to walk that perilous path, even when I knew you desired a simple life. I passed on everything I knew to you because your survival was deemed crucial to the gods. Now, in death, I find myself wondering… For what purpose was I given foresight if I could not alter the horrible destiny of one girl?"
Kikyo blinked, her brain struggling to comprehend that Midoriko was lamenting. Outlandish occurrences had happened since she had stepped into the Netherworld, but nothing was more bewildering than hearing the regret in her mentor's usually soothingly calm voice. Never before had she witnessed her impermeable predecessor and paragon openly show any regret, especially not over her upbringing. Certainly, her childhood was not perfect and filled with strict teachings. However, those were all necessities that she had appreciatively taken into heart. Perhaps Midoriko was correct to say that death had altered her way of thinking, since Kikyo found herself unable to share the sentiment.
Overcome with the need to reassure her teacher, Kikyo's legs carried her over to the woman until she was but a step away. Carefully taking her younger self into her arms, she fixed her steadfast gaze on the previous keeper of the Shikon Jewel. "Never contrite, Sensei. Neither the child in my arms nor I believe you should be plagued with feelings of self-reproach. It is my decision alone to continue along this path. However, I have come to realize the uncertain and ever-changing nature of fate, and that there are indeed multiple possibilities for the future. We must try to decide that future for ourselves."
Just like the last time she had made her conviction known, the world around her seemed to shift. Yet, instead of crumbling, it simply made the child in her arm vanish in a burst of gentle light that enveloped her. Flashes of images appeared and she saw her smaller self staying curled up on the floor before waking to Tsubaki's nudging and the gentle words of Midoriko, telling her that she was safe.
When the visions cleared, she noticed a dazzling smile on Midoriko's face that she had never expressed back when she was alive. "I sense a powerful conviction from you, Kikyo. You no longer clung stubbornly to the end forced into your hands. It seems someone has managed to impart to you the lesson that I failed to provide... Given your tenacity, I am of the opinion that it had not been easy. If afforded the chance, I must extend appreciation towards their endeavors that allowed you to escape the fate of reincarnation."
Ignoring the unmistakable jab in the middle, Kikyo nodded, "Indeed. While I cannot say that I approve of his every action, I do appreciate what Sesshomaru is trying to do. He has ventured into the Netherworld for my sake… and may be trapped in a state between life and death as I was. Though I believe in his abilities to overcome the situation that has regrettably blindsided me, I long to aid him in any way I can."
Midoriko's features turned sober. "If only he was in your predicament, then it would not be as dire."
"I do not understand. Do you imply that Sesshomaru is not trapped in a similar predicament as I had been?" Concern found its way into her voice at the sudden change in her teacher's attitude.
"Have you forgotten? Youkai cannot be reincarnated as humans can. He cannot be put under the same trials as you have."
Kikyo's countenance paled drastically as the terrible realization hit her like a sledgehammer. Amid the excitement of encountering her role model and the confusion resulting from her existence being scrambled, she had overlooked a simple fact. 'Sesshomaru's soul is in danger! I must not allow the Lord of the Netherworld to lay a hand on him!'
"Go," Midoriko stated firmly and placed a translucent hand on her shoulder. Even if physical contact was impossible, the gesture stimulated a surge of nostalgic reassurance that weaved composure back into Kikyo's heart. "I have delayed you far too long, Kikyo. If you yearn to save the future you share with him, then you must first shatter this past that binds you and determine his current position. It is there that you will confront your most formidable adversary — the governor and the law of this realm. Stop him before he snatches the demon lord's soul and leaves him eternally petrified."
There was a lot of vital and alarming information from that one warning. There was also so much she wanted to say, so much she wanted to ask, but had so little time. In the end, she settled with an earnest heartfelt gratitude, letting all her emotions tumble out. "Thank you, Midoriko-sensei."
With that said, she swiped her arm at the empty air, and the world created by her subconsciousness shattered. Like the infirmary and Rinne before them, the hut and her teacher disappeared without a trace. Yet, she wasted no time sparing them a second thought. She slipped on her newly acquired hoari — which had materialized in her arms — and broke into a frantic run, forcing her legs to carry her at maximum velocity. Her sandaled feet hit the barren ground, and she noticed that she was rapidly moving away from the red wheel hovering above her.
The Tenseiga that hadn't been with her for the duration of the illusions pulsed erratically in its secured position by her side. It was keen to guide her to its master and she was more than eager to follow its guidance. As she sprinted, her hand found its hilt and subconsciously gripped it until her knuckles were white. If only she had been defiant and refused the sword, then the daiyoukai would have had the potent fang at his disposal. From their first brief encounter with the Lord of the Netherworld, she knew that even the Bakusaiga would be inadequate against such a powerful enemy.
To claim that he was powerful was an understatement. Kikyo could remember the terrifying mass of oppressive energy pouring from the entity. His being rippled with authority and simply being near his presence would have made anyone with a fraction of less willpower collapse onto their knees.
'The Tenseiga may be our only chance.' A trickle of sweat found its way down the side of her cheek, though she wasn't sure if it was from her exertion or her apprehension. Against the entity embodying the rules that founded the realm of the deceased, she knew they would need to give everything they had.
The notion motivated her to sprint even faster. First, she had to get to Sesshomaru in time.
More Author's Notes: Just a quick disclaimer to state that I do not own anything regarding the creation of Rokudo Rinne, the protagonist from Rumiko Takahashi's other story Kyōkai no Rinne. He is here for a cameo appearance that I hope those who do read/watch the manga/anime can forgive me if my portrayal of him isn't as accurate as you've liked. I have seen very little of the source material but wished to have him included as a little Easter egg.
Next time, we will be doing a little more fourth-wall breaking as the plotline for Yashahime (not written by Rumiko Takahashi) becomes more involved in Chapter 47-Mayhem of Worlds.
Merry Christmas and until the next update!
Stay tuned!