Mirror by Mitsje
The Lady in the Mirror
AN: As said in summary, this fic was inspired by Rikayu's artwork "Mirror", which can be found here: http://dokuga.com/gallery?func=detail&id=972 I do not own Inuyasha or any of it characters, nor do I own the picture by Rikayu. Permission has been granted by Rikayu to write a story for her picture. Did I mention that it's Rikayu's picture? Anyway, rating just to be safe, and I am hoping to make this something of a 5 chaptered story, but we'll see where it goes.
Edit: Prologue now added to chapter "Lady in the Mirror", because I was too stupid to count the words :P ~~~~ marks where original prologue ended.
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It had been a part of the dowry that had come with her. However, his wife insisted on it being put away somehwere, so that she never had to look upon it. When he asked her about this curious behavior, her eyes had widened, then narrowed, and she had spoken in a hushed voice that it had been cursed.
They had been newlyweds, and he had indulged her. He’d instructed the housekeepers to move it to the attic and cover it up, before leaving on their honeymoon. He had never thought of it again.
Not until several years later.
His wife had left with his stepbrother, on an extended trip. If he were to believe the rumors spread by the maids, he would not see her again. He didn’t care too much. Aside from their daughter, nothing good had come from marrying that woman. Still, gossip was never good for ones reputation, and his reputation was very dear to him. So, in a fit of rage, he had torn through the house, stripping it of everything that was hers. When he came to the attic, he stumbled across it for the first time in seven years. He had taken of the sheet that had been covering it for so long, ignoring the dust that spilled richly from it. He stared at it for a little while, before lifting it from its resting place and taking it down to the hallway. He replaced the one that was already hanging there with it, and allowed himself a sly grin. If she were ever to come back, this would surely spite her. He stared at his reflection for a little while longer, and then turned his back on it. He had better things to do than look into a mirror all day.
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Whispers had started going around the house. Some of the servants had begun to avoid the hall, and nobody went near the mirror if they did not have to. Sesshoumaru paid no mind to their hysterical stories about shadows moving within. They were just old wives tales, nothing more. He was, as the master of the house, above these things. So, he went about his business as he always did, ignoring the worried looks that were thrown his way when he fixed his tie and jacket in the mirror before going out.
As none of the maids was going near the mirror anymore, the part of the hall where it was situated became gradually more dusty and cobwebbed. Sesshoumaru decided to see how long they would let it be, but he was not a patient man. When he had finally become fed up with their behavior, he scolded the head of the household, and forced her to appoint someone to clean the mirror regularly. The task was given to one of the newer servants, a young man who, as he said himself, “was not afraid of some moving figures in some antique looking glass.” It took no more than an hour for him to run screaming away from the hall, yelling that a witch had looked upon him when he had been removing the cobwebs from the mirror, and that she had tried to put a spell on him. He was fired at once.
After that, there were no more sightings of strange shadows or wicked witches, and life returned to normal in the household. Until, one day, Sesshoumaru found his daughter right in front of the mirror, talking to it. When he asked her what she was doing, she answered that she was talking to the lady in the mirror. While he was glad that his daughter still had her energy and fantasy after her mother had left, he was livid with the servants for putting ideas in her head. If she were not such a resilient little girl, she could have well been scared out of her mind. He would have to discuss this with the head of the household, but now, it was time to put his daughter to bed.
“Come Rin, it is time to go to sleep,” he said to her.
“But the lady in the mirror will be lonely,” she said, “and she has already been lonely for so long.”
He decided to play along in her innocent story. “Has she told you this?”
“No, of course not,” his daughter said indignantly, “she can speak, but you can’t hear her.”
“Then how do you know she has been lonely?”
“Because I can tell. It is in her eyes,” came the sage response. He simply nodded with a small smile.
When he tucked her into bed, she stared up to him with her big brown eyes.
“Will you save her, daddy?”
“Save who, Rin?”
“The lady in the mirror.”
He stared back at his daughter for a moment, before sighing and nodding his head.
“I shall see what I can do.”
Rin smiled, and closed her eyes, ready to go to sleep. Just as Sesshoumaru turned off the lights and was about to step out of the room, he heard her voice.
“Kagome.”
“What did you say, Rin?”
“That’s her name, the lady in the mirror. Her name is Kagome.”
He nodded once more, and then left her room in search of the head of the household. He had a bone to pick with her.
When he had finished scolding her and the rest of the staff for telling his little girl ghost stories, he was met only with indignation. They had not told the little miss anything, they said, and they had not seen anything moving within the mirror themselves for some time now. According to the head of the staff, an ugly little fellow by name of Jaken, it must be the girl’s own imagination that there had been a woman in the mirror. Sesshoumaru had, in the end, no choice but to agree with this. He decided to just let Rin live her little fantasy, and not pay too much attention to it. She would grow tired of it soon enough.