Sometimes, when she looks out at the stars from her window, Kagome sees shadows shaped like youkai.
The shrine is never well-lit to begin with, her grandfather favouring the old lanterns to light the ‘sacred grounds’ rather than expensive floodlights – so shadows are pretty much expected. They’re normal. The law of the universe, because where there is light, shadow inevitably follows along like a lost puppy.
A little voice whispers that she knows this lesson all too well, and memories of tentacles, saimyoshou, holy light and pooling blood mingle and swirl behind her eyes, until they blur into a mess of colour and tears. On good nights, when the moon hangs high and heavy in the sky, the darkness stands aside to let the light through; and she remembers smiles, laughter, wandering hands around the campfire and scars that run too deep for her hands to heal.
Remembering, both of the good and bad variety, inevitably makes her feelings roll back to the day that the past became untouchable – echoing the sensation of reaching, striving, screaming, but never getting anywhere, because time and the well were both immovable, even when she fought until she had to be pulled away, her mother and brother clinging on to the broken pieces of her like they were clinging to driftwood on a sinking ship.
Tonight, the shadows are back. Tonight, she is less broken driftwood and more Kagome, but still they sit, beneath her window and in the trees, and often she feels like she isn’t brave enough to go out and confront them - those demons that stalk her every step.
So she doesn’t. It's a simple choice to make, and she goes downstairs to her family and the warmth of their love, away from the darkness and the past and the pain.
She was just a little girl playing with a bow, and nothing more.
But this evening feels different. Something in the air, in the moonlight, or maybe in the abandoned cup of tea, left steaming on her desk. Whatever it is, that something is what prompts her to make her decision, and she goes to her cupboard, pulling out the redundant bow and quiver-full of arrows, tracing her fingers along wood and feathers.
’They are real,’ that voice whispers to her again. ’It did happen, and you are a priestess and you killed youkai and you aren’t going to let anything hurt your family. Naraku was still alive when you left. It isn't worth the risk. Even if this whole situation is all in your head, and there isn’t anything outside but a few shadows, and you are going just a little bit insane.’
She ignores it, and goes down the stairs.
“Kagome?”
Mama spots her as she reaches the door, and she doesn’t want to turn around because she'll have to see the worry written all over her face; the worry that her daughter has finally lost it, because she’s trying to go back to the past, back through the well - and after trying, she’ll come back with hope lost and progress destroyed, and they’ll have to start all over from the beginning again.
She doesn’t want to turn, but she does, because reassurance is the best thing she can give to Mama right now. Her expression is exactly as she pictured, eyes crinkling at the edges, mouth turned down. It hurts, somewhere in her chest, but she manages a smile.
“Don’t worry, Mama. I’m only going out for some practice. I’m not trying for the past. I want to fire a few arrows. That's all.”
The worry softens and disappears, and Mama rests a gentle hand on her shoulder, leaving her with two words before she goes back into the kitchen.
“Be careful.”
She just nods to the empty hall, and opens the door.
&&&
The shrine grounds are nearly silent – the only noise is the rain, the movement of the trees and the rustling paper of the lanterns, swaying gently where they hang amongst the leaves. They bathe small golden circles on the grass, and she steps through them like a child playing hopscotch, moving slowly down the path and closer to her ultimate destination. Because no matter which direction she goes, her feet will always lead her there.
When she reaches the top of the hill, she spends a few long moments drinking in the sight of the well-house, its door boarded and locked with both a chain and some sutras. Jii-chan hasn't got this far with the lanterns - she suspects he never will, on principle, at least - so the whole area is still draped in shadows.
Normal, natural shadows. There are no youkai here. Just memories and cool rain, soaking through her clothes and hair. Now that she is out, away from the house and closer to home, her fears of youkai stalking the shrine feel tiny, irrational – and really, really stupid.
“Since when have there ever been youkai in the modern era, Kagome?” she mutters to herself, stubbornly disregarding the fracturing feeling in her chest, of something broken shifting. "Why did I even choose to think..."
’Answers…’ the voice whispers.
Maybe she really is losing her mind.
She should go inside, put her bow and her memories and her insignificant beliefs away, back into the cupboard, and have a cup of tea with her mother.
'...But what harm would it do to shoot a few arrows?'
It only takes the slightest push to make her give in to temptation, and Kagome lifts her bow, turning the wood in her hand and pulling an arrow with the other. The movement isn’t as fluid as it once was, but it has been a long, long time: five hundred years and a matter of months.
She levels it at a tree that towers over both her and the well-house. Not as old as the God Tree, but probably getting there. It certainly looks like it was planted during the Feudal Era.
The connection gives her comfort, and she fires.
The arrow doesn’t flare with spiritual power – they never have, not since the well closed with the Shikon on the other side – but it does hit with a dull thud, burying itself deep into the bark and quivering with the aftershock. Some of her sadness goes with it, leaving her body and pouring itself into the tree.
It feels like a release, like relaxing after holding herself painfully tense for endless days, weeks, months - so she pulls another arrow. It hits the tree alongside its neighbour, and her breath escapes her into the night air, forming words as she fires again and again, mindless, until the poor trunk is bristling with arrows.
“Inuyasha… Sango… Miroku… Shippou… Kirara… Kaede… Kikyou… Rin…”
Name by name, arrow by arrow she works her way through her demons, and though the shadows outside remain the same, the ones in her heart begin to fade, twist and retreat.
She is down to one arrow, and she reaches for it slowly, her tears mixing with the rain, running and falling from her cheeks to drip to the ground. The bow creaks in protest at her shoulder as she stretches her arms into the familiar position – calm, this time, after the frenzied firing of the last few minutes. Kagome settles and takes a deep breath, closing her eyes and examining her emotions with a probing touch.
She feels better now. Lighter, and heavier at the same time, thoughts and worries of forgetting them - in the distant future when her childhood home is miles away, and she is fixed - weighing her down like stones. But she will willingly bear the pain of carrying that weight with her always, if it means that she’ll remember them as they deserve to be remembered: as brave warriors, lonely wanderers, strong hearts. As people made and moulded to save the world.
As her friends.
Opening her eyes, she fires.
The air shifts, distorts. The world takes a breath. Something inside her clicks into place.
And the arrow flares, pink light exploding outwards and casting everything into vivid shadow, bright and burning.
The fallout is strong enough to knock her off her feet, and she lies flat on the soggy ground for a few moments before even trying to think. When she does, questions run through her head at breakneck speed, teasing and laughing and unanswerable.
What? How? Why? Huh?
She sits up slowly, blinking and half-blind, and settles on why.
Why now? After all this time, why would her spiritual powers return now? What was special?
Why-
“Priestess. It would be wise to stand before your clothing become further coated in mud.”
The voice cuts through her confusion like a blazing sword.
Familiar.
Oh-so familiar.
But…
Before more questions can start to form, the searing heat of powerful youki rolls over her in a wave, strong enough to paralyze her in place. It is so potent that she can taste it on her tongue – sweet, acidic and practically reeking of danger.
Instinct kicks in. Kagome stumbles backwards, away, and her vision finally clears, revealing what she suspected but really, really didn’t want to see.
Sesshoumaru.
He’s standing there, eyebrow raised, her arrow pinched between his thumb and forefinger.
... in a business suit.
'What.'
She can’t reconcile the man before her with Lord Sesshoumaru; this sleek figure in a grey suit is nothing like the daiyoukai dressed in white with stripes on his face, a moon gracing his forehead and claws glowing green with poison, promising death with every breath and beat of his cold, stone heart.
But it is. The hair, the eyes, the stance is the same; back straight, chin up, something about him demanding respect even without his swords at his hip. And that means that this is just another meeting between them; another meeting with the creature who tried to kill her, an impossible number of years ago.
'Are the feelings the same? Is he going to kill me? My family?'
The first time they met, stranded in the bones of his father - and the time after that, and after that, and after that, and isn't this just one of those times? - she fought back.
But now?
Her bones ache. Her friends aren't here to help her. She is just Kagome, modern schoolgirl, who has no hope of winning against a low-level oni, let alone a daiyoukai. Resigned, she shuts her eyes, and waits for death like a deer in the headlights.
A few seconds pass, and death doesn’t come. Instead, a cool hand grabs hers and pulls her to her feet. She remains frozen, but does crack her eyes open a little.
Yes, Sesshoumaru touched her ‘filthy human person’.
Yes, he helped her to her feet.
And yes, he is still holding the arrow in his other hand.
… wait. Other hand?
“Unless you are in shock, it is time to take shelter. It would be beneficial if you didn’t contract an illness because of your surprise.”
Kagome doesn’t answer, and instead follows numbly when he tugs on her arm, pulling her easily towards the well-house. The door moves aside with a simple yank of the handle, lock tearing away and chain breaking beneath his strength. The sutras melt.
'So much for 'Demon, begone!''she thinks, giddily, and almost giggles. But her throat is closed around her words and questions, laughter and probably some tears too. The sight of the well is like a sucker punch, but Sesshoumaru’s presence is more than enough to keep her distracted.
When he slides the door shut, leaving only the tiniest chink of light, Kagome finds her breath.
“...S- Sesshoumaru?”
He is silent, dropping her hand and reaching up into the darkness. His fingertips shimmer, and then she can see claws, glowing green and red with his poison and youki. She almost cringes, but now she can think again, her grip tightens around her bow.
Damn. The arrows are still in the tree.
Something sparks, and there is light, cascading from one of her grandfather’s paper lanterns, swinging from the roof and directly above the well.
'When did Jii-chan put that there…?’
Sesshoumaru lowers his arm and turns to look at her. His brow quirks again, and is that a tiny smirk on his face?
“Questions, Priestess?”
The silence waits, and her mouth acts before her brain - which is still screaming at her to run away. Her confusion spills out as if on his command, one query after another, like the raindrops still pattering on the wooden roof, her voice growing progressively louder until she's almost gasping for breath.
“What- why are you here? How did you get here? How did you stop my arrow? Where the hell is that suit from? Where's Inuyasha? Have you killed him!? Are you here to kill me?? Or my family?! Or-umph!”
He moves faster than her eyes can follow, and now, there is a hand over her mouth, pale and smooth – with no stripes. She looks up, slowly, and the bow drops from senseless fingers, clattering loudly to the ground.
He sighs.
“Calm yourself, Priestess. I mean you no harm, and Inuyasha is still very much alive, I assure you." He sounds oddly long-suffering. "Now, I shall explain, but you may not be able to ask all of your questions. Time is not on our side.”
She nods, unable to do anything else with him so close and his youki hanging in the air; a silent promise of impending pain, even if he's already said that he means her no harm.
'And what's with that, anyway? It's not like I want him to hurt me, but... it's strange. Not like him.'
Sesshoumaru seems to follow her train of thought, and starts talking.
“I am here because I lived through the ages. Time passed me by untouched as it does for all daiyoukai, and now we disguise ourselves to keep our business private and our existence invisible to prying eyes.”
His concealment melts away suddenly, and the magenta stripes on his wrist fade into life right in front of her. His hair and eyes stay the same, obviously not part of the spell.
The little sarcastic voice mutters in her ear.
’Of course, silver hair and golden eyes wouldn’t be unusual in Japan. So much for not standing out, eh?’
“But, Priestess, that is not the only reason I have chosen to visit your shrine. I am here…”
Sesshoumaru pauses – hesitates? Is it hesitance? She watches him closely, and something flashes across his eyes. Something she can’t name, an emotion she can’t understand. His hand falls from her mouth, and she doesn’t speak, instead continuing her study of his face. He looks down at her, careful and measuring beneath his stripes.
“I’m here to send you back.”
The words fall into the air, as heavy as the stones of her remembrance, and it takes a while for them to sink in through the thickness of his youki and the quagmire of feelings blocking her ears. When they do, she sags heavily against the wall, stunned into silence.
A few deeps breaths later, and her voice wavers in the quiet.
“B-back? Through the well? But… but that’s impossible! It doesn’t work any more, all the power is gone…”
Sesshoumaru halts her again, this time with a hand on her shoulder. He stoops until they are eye to eye, and now it is clear. There is emotion there, sparkling behind the clear amber. And even though he is close enough to read, she still can’t tell what it is that has him so... revealed. Her musings quickly come to end, when he leans forwards and breathes in her ear, voice sinfully soft. It sends shivers skittering down her spine.
“All it needs… is the right power…”
His youki rumbles in the small shrine, and he stands to his full height while still managing to look into her eyes, scouring deep enough that it feels like he is touching her soul, gazing on all of her wishes and brushing against them with inquistive fingers.
The daiyoukai lifts his other hand, her arrow balancing delicately on the palm. His aura swells into existence around him. She braces herself, expecting pain or burning or at the very least to be shoved back into the wall.
But it passes through her, harmless, and any thoughts are immediately discounted when the arrow burns brilliantly into life. The rose curtain of her powers illuminates the small space, filling it with the smell of cleansing rain. Amazingly, it doesn't purify the youki saturating the air, but dances with it, twining together like a waltzing pair.
'Like lost lovers...'
Sesshoumaru looks at her, then, when they are surrounded by the shining ribbons of their power. His eyes are hooded, and she can see the hidden secrets sitting behind them as clearly as the youki and reiki hanging around her. She returns his gaze, and they stand at an impasse, until the slightest smile forms on his face, and his eyes slide shut.
Blurring, his arm descends, and he buries the tip of the arrow into the wood of the well.
The world turns white. She is blown off her feet for the second time by a crushing surge of pure, unadulterated power. Kagome curls instinctively, awaiting the floor or the wall or whatever she’s about to hit – but instead, she collides with something soft and firm.
She blinks.
'What?'
Looking to her right, she squints until her vision resolves into charcoal grey, pale skin, magenta stripes. Arms circle to hold her close, and his heart beats strongly against the middle of her back.
Her brain decides that it's had enough trauma for one day, and promptly shuts down.
“Sesshoumaru?”
Her voice is high-pitched, panicky. She feels her muscles tense, turning her into the human equivalent of a plank of wood. This is Inuyasha’s brother, the Lord of the West, the one who threatened her life, and he’s protecting her. Holding her.
Sesshoumaru hushes her with a gentle noise, a rumbling growl she can feel rolling from his chest. She obeys without conscious thought, relaxing into his hold, and his chin drops to rest on her the crown of her head.
Eventually, the light dies down, and he doesn’t move.
She shifts, uncomfortable, both at the situation and how... disturbingly right it feels. But then her eyes are drawn to the well.
A new glow is beginning to unfurl. Blue, familiar, and it makes her blood sing to see it again. The arrow is still there, shimmering softly with the remnants of their power, and it is enough to send the shocked tears glittering down her face, discarded diamonds.
Outside, thunder rumbles, and Sesshoumaru removes his arms slowly, stepping away and around to face her directly. She wants to ask what happened, how he knew, why he hadn’t come sooner – but his expression stops her in her tracks.
He looks sad. The mask is in place, but she can see beyond it now, and Sesshoumaru is definitely sad.
“Go on. I have spoken to your family - they know about the well and what I was planning to do. They send their blessings. Now, go.”
There is an edge of command there, and all her twisted human instincts are telling her to listen, but her mind wants answers. It wants to know his motives, wants to know whether that suspicion sitting in the very back of her mind - born when he pulled her into his arms, when she saw that unfathomable look in the lines of his face - is something much, much more than a suspicion.
“Sesshoumaru.”
His brow crinkles minutely, and his focuses sharpens. He’s listening. She asks one of her earlier questions again, hoping he catches her meaning.
“Why are you here?”
Understanding dawns across his face like the rising moon, and those golden eyes soften.
“Because our future is yet to come, Kagome.”
She feels her heartbeat increase, and a small smile curls irresistably across her lips. She still doesn’t know if her tentative assumption is right, but she senses that she will, in time. For now, she can embrace the chance to see her friends again, the chance to get her life back and finish what she started. Wholeheartedly.
Kagome walks to the well, peering over the lip and into the blue light. The ladder is gone, removed by her mother as an early incentive to stop her from trying to get back to the past after the portal closed. Surprisingly enough, it didn't work; the local casualty department could attest to that.
Behind her, she catches the quietest of sighs, and then Sesshoumaru’s arms are back, hooking around her and lifting easily, until she is suspended above the well.
She meets his eyes, surprised, and he just looks at her, a smile touching his lips.
“The suit is Armani. I will see you soon, my Kagome.”
With that, he drops her.
In that moment, her illusions about him drop away too, and her tears fall with them, down and up and all ways as she tumbles through time.
She may not understand, but she will accept.
Kagome turns into the light, yearning to see her friends again, and deep down in her bones, she hopes that she can count Sesshoumaru among them.
&&&
She fades away into time, and the Western Lord-turned-businessman watches her fall.
He stands there for a few long moments, the smile on his face changing into an expression full of sadness - yet infinitely more hopeful. After a while, he steps from the well-house and disappears like a ghost into the rain.
He can wait. For her.
&&&
Thanks for reading! All feedback is appreciated. ^.~ This was un-beta'd, and written for the 'Ghost' prompt over at ebony_silks.