The Ties That Bind by TwistTie05
What Was Never To Be
- THE TIES THAT BIND -
An InuYasha Manga Fanfiction
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Prologue: What Was Never To Be
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She was beginning to wonder if the wrenching pain in her chest would ever cease. It was hard to remember a time when her chest hadn't felt like it was going to explode at any moment. It was as if her heart had grown too large for her ribcage, and was growing larger with each passing moment. Sometimes it hurt so much that she vaguely wondered if she was dying, or going insane, or both.
She imagined the pain was so strong because they were terrifyingly close to the end—the final battle against their long-time enemy, Naraku. She had never truly considered her predicament until these last couple weeks, always too preoccupied with worrying about school or this youkai attack or that youkai attack or any number of other youkai attacks that plagued her days and nights. It all seemed so paltry now, oddly enough.
Because it's almost over... she thought numbly, sinking deeper into the warm, semi-soothing water filling her present-day bathtub. It was strange to think that soon she would be able to take a hot bath every day without worrying. She'd be able to sleep in a soft bed as well, tucked safely under her downy comforters with only the youkai of her dreams to haunt her sleep.
An odd notion. Had there ever been a time when she hadn't traveled in the company of youkai? She could only vaguely remember the days before her first excursion in Sengoku Jidai, and it seemed to her as if they were someone else's experiences and not her own.
Not my own...
An unwelcome portrait of Kikyou swirled in the steaming water before her eyes. Not even her soul was her own, any longer. No, it belonged to Kikyou—she was nothing more that a pale shadow of the ancient miko. The Sengoku Jidai was Kikyou's time, not hers. Just as InuYasha's heart belonged to Kikyou...
And not me, she finished, sinking yet further into the water. It came up over her mouth now, just below her nose, and she watched as tiny bubbles escaped from between her lips to pop once they reached the surface. It was as if each of the bubbles were one of her dreams, floating through time only to burst with the cruel realization of her own hopeless circumstances. The realization that she had been born in the wrong era, and that there was nothing she could do about it—no matter how much she hated the idea.
Destiny is a cruel thing, to drag me back in time like this. She could have continued living her life, happy in her innocence, without ever worrying about the hanyou she loved and the friends she would give her life for. Perhaps she would have fallen in love with the strange and yet thoughtful Hojou. Perhaps she would have had the chance to live a normal, happy life, never worrying about anything larger than the next test around the corner—blissfully unaware that youkai existed in anything but fairy tales and dusty legends. How pleasant would that have been, never having to glance over her shoulder in fear for her life?
But no. I am sent to fight this damnable war in a time that is not my own, and I don't even get to enjoy the benefits afterward. I'll come back here and try to pick up the scattered shards of my life, just like I pieced together the shards of the Shikon no Tama in the past. I won't get the man I love. I won't get the glory. I won't get anything.
Sometimes she couldn't help but wonder if it was all worth it, in the end. If she truly wanted to, she could simply stay where she was and never return to Sengoku Jidai again. She could avoid the Well altogether, leave the hanyou and Naraku far behind, and piece together the tatters until she could once again lead the normal life she had left behind years before. She contemplated this, watching her silky black hair float in the murky water around her white shoulders.
It's no use. She knew she would go back—probably on the morrow. It didn't matter how many fights she and InuYasha got in. It didn't matter how many times she realized how hopeless her prospects in the past were. It didn't matter how many times Kikyou appeared before her, baring a part of her soul and wearing a face that matched Kagome's own. None of it really mattered because, simply enough, she was in love. She was in love with a hanyou who was enamored with a past she knew nothing of—a hanyou so torn between his feelings that, even if he loved her back, he would tell her to return to her own time and leave Sengoku Jidai behind forever. In the end, all of her efforts led back to the same place: returning home and abandoning everything she had fought so hard for these past few years.
She sighed as she pushed herself up out of the water, the steam swirling around her slender body. Despite all the beatings she had taken during her adventures, she was growing into her figure surprisingly well. Her hips had filled out nicely and ever her breasts seemed larger than she remembered them being before. Her thighs were firm, her stomach flat, her face slender—yes, at the very least, Sengoku Jidai had forced her through more strenuous exercise than she would have ever found here, and given her the admirably thin but strong frame to match. But what did it matter? No matter how beautiful she became, InuYasha would always be looking the other way, over his shoulder to that painful past he could never let go of.
She pushed these thoughts aside with something of a sad smile, pulling the downy green towel from the rack next to her and wrapping it tightly around her slim figure. She ran a hand through her wet hair, her fingers catching in the tangles before jerking through them. It hurt, but the pain was welcome—anything to distract from that twisting, sinking ache in her chest. She leaned over the side of the tub, dipping her arm in to pull out the plug and let the hot water swirl down the pipes and off into oblivion. After this was finished, she turned away, walking to the door and pulling it open.
The wooden panels of the hallway creaked as she stepped on them, echoing in the silence of the night. It was somewhere around midnight, the rest of the family members having long since fallen asleep. A part of her felt sorry for them—she spent so much time in Sengoku Jidai that is was as if she hardly knew them anymore. Souta was growing up so quickly: it seemed that each time she returned, he had already shot up another inch.
Soon he'll be taller than me, she thought with another faint, tired smile. Perhaps staying in her present time wouldn't be as horrible as she made it out to be. She could watch Souta grow. She could spend the last years of her grandfather's waning (yet still energetic) life actually with him. She could help her mother around the house. She could spend more time with her friends. She could actually complete her education and maybe, just maybe, she could even get herself a normal romantic life.
A small chuckle escaped between her lips as she walked to her room, shutting the door quietly behind her and flopping on her bed. The soft fabric of her blankets was comforting after such a long time of sleeping on hard wooden floors or, even worse, on dirt and rocks and sticks. She ran her hand over the cloth, tilting her head backwards as beads of heated water rolled down her limbs, dripping onto the bed.
I'll go back tomorrow, she decided at last, the thudding in her chest becoming too much to bear. She had to do something, even if it was as simple as deciding what she would do the next day.
She rose with a soft groan from her bed, pulling the towel tighter around her and moving over to the window next to her desk. She leaned her elbows against the sill, gazing out through the pane of glass at the night sky. In Sengoku Jidai, millions upon millions of stars decorated the heavens, glimmering all throughout the night. In Tokyo, only a few, faint pinpricks of light shone against the darkness—and those were probably the blinking lights of far off planes. There were so many differences between the two eras. Too many to count.
When I leave that place for good, there will be nothing here to remind me of them. She wasn't sure if she should be grateful for this or not. It might be easier, living her life without any painful and useless reminders of the man she could never have and the friends she must leave behind. She would miss them all—InuYasha, Sango, Miroku, Shippou, Kaede... even Sesshoumaru, Rin and Jaken, despite the fact that they were enemies more often than not.
"I wonder how things will turn out for them," she pondered aloud, her mind immediately grasping hold of any subject that took her thoughts away from the clenching pain in her chest that was quickly driving her mad. "It seems that Sesshoumaru is turning out to be more like his father than he would ever care to admit—letting Rin tag along at his heels like that." A soft giggle escaped her lips as she thought about what sort of face he would make if she pointed this out to him. Sesshoumaru was much the same as he had been when she had first met him, and yet very different as well.
If only InuYasha could be more like his brother, she thought, the giggle fading into a sigh as her mind inevitably turned back to the subject of her pain. If only he wouldn't say needless things that do nothing but hurt the people around him... that hurt me. If only he could be strong and cautious—not so loud and obnoxiously brash. She mused about how nice it would be to sit beside InuYasha quietly—no angry words, no sullen glares and awkward silences. Nothing but peace as they warmed their limbs over a crackling fire.
But that's impossible, she admitted wryly to herself as she turned away from the window, moving slowly over to her closet to retrieve her pajamas. When she finally slipped under the covers of her bed, her thoughts were haunted by images of InuYasha in the arms of the miko who looked so similar to herself... and of a young, smiling girl with warm brown eyes, trailing at the heels of a taiyoukai, his impassive face impossible to read...
For some reason, as her eyes drooped shut and the heavy weight of sleep settled over her, she felt as if something in her world was turning over—as if something vital in her life was beginning to change forever. The sensation was quickly forgotten, however, as black waves of unconsciousness rolled over her, leaving her with nothing but dreams and memories and that thrice damned pain that strangled her even in her sleep.
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Kagome rested her hand on the old, worn wood of the door that opened in on the Bone Eater's Well, her head cocked fractionally to the right. The first rays of dawn were just beginning to peek over the horizon, the sky above shifting from black to murky gray. Old patches of snow dotted the ground and the chill of winter's breath danced fallen, half-rotted leaves across the cobblestones. It was gloomy, and yet crisp and clear and definite, as if the weather had conspired to remind her of her situation with painful clarity. Gloomy and yet impossible to ignore. She could already see where the path was leading her.
But even so, that doesn't mean I shouldn't follow it to the end, she told herself, trying to quell the suffocating sensation that was pushing itself up her throat and making it increasingly difficult to breathe. She shook her head, pushing the door open and stepping into the small, shrine-like building. The shadows gathered around her like living things, clawing at her feet with cobweb fingers and crawling up her legs as if to drag her down into the cold earth where she might rot and join them in an eternity of darkness. The thought made her shiver, partly because the idea was almost appealing to her grief-stricken mind.
She walked to the Well, shifting the weight of the lumpy pack on her back and frowning into the darkness. She remembered the days when she used to climb down the side slowly, always afraid that one day it wouldn't work and her legs would shatter on the bottom. Those days were so long ago, however—gone and half-forgotten. Now she simply jumped in without so much as a second thought, never considering that she might hut herself if she ever changed to actually hit the ground.
She swung her legs over the edge, brushing her hair back from her face and gazing quietly into the shadows for a long moment. The silence yawned around her, a chasm of empty emotions that threatened to swallow her whole. She wondered if InuYasha was waiting for her on the other side, pacing anxiously and growling under his breath as he tended to do. She wondered if he would welcome her back in that stubborn and relentless way of his, never admitting that he was wrong but nonetheless glad to see her again. Or perhaps he would simply look upon her with dull eyes and see only the woman he had lost more than fifty years past.
Her knuckles turned white as her grip on the rim of the Well tightened, her breath hissing between clenched teeth. She started slightly, shaking her head as if to dislodge such depressing thoughts from her mind.
"Enough of this," she said aloud, firmly. There was no one around to hear but her—the rest of her family was still asleep, unaware of her hasty return to Sengoku Jidai. "It's time to go."
It's time to end this, she thought as she pushed off the edge, her body suspended in air, in shadows and in magic.
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Next Chapter
Chapter One: Twist of Fate
Stumbling from the Well, Kagome finds herself faced with a situation she had never expected. Instead of returning to warm greetings by her friends and that stubborn hanyou she had come to love, she finds herself face to face with none other than Sesshoumaru himself. Now she must puzzle through her new and frightening circumstances and search for a way to turn things right—and stay alive besides.
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