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Author of 66 Stories |
A/N: Yes, I am rather fond of Kikyo/Kagome.
Please read and review, I would appreciate it greatly.
Thank you to those who have reviewed my other fanfics, I want to give you all Pocky, but alas cannot. Shipping and handling prices are high and I don't have a job.
This fanfiction is based on/around episode 33 and the InuYasha doujinshi 'Muku no to wo naga suude' of the Circle: Heizo En Kito -I love their art style.
Disclaimer: InuYasha belongs to Rumiko Takahashi and respectful owners. They do not belong to me in any manner. All writing here is fictional (XD).
Warning: Contains Yuri (female/female) pairing(s). If you are uncomfortable with such things of this matter, do not read. (Unless you like reading things you don't like… masochist.) And there's corny Japanese mixed with the English- oh no!
Death by Sonata
September 14-17, 2004
By: Arashi, Fuyumiko
It was a path that should never have been taken.
Lost and confused Higurashi Kagome wandered. She wandered cold and lonely into the dark, the dark of the enchanted wood. Not long ago she had lost track of where the others had ran off to. The air carried the aura of something sinister. Or more specific the stench of a scheme created by none other then Naraku. She shuddered, her school uniform not covering her cold body at all.
The forest was an impossible dark, many times she had almost lost her footing. With bright azure eyes, she peered around through the darkness, only catching the outlines of tangling dark roots. Trying to overcome her shock as she fell forward, Kagome braced herself, ready to feel the unyielding harshness of the ground.
She hit the ground with a painful thud, tears springing to her eyes. 'This must be what InuYasha feels like whenever I sit him,' she thought a wave of sympathy and guilt washing over her. If she lived through the approaching darkness, she swore to never sit the poor hanyou again.
Shakily bracing herself on her forearms, Kagome took in deep gulps of air. The raging pounding of her heart proof of her fear. Time passed slightly, but she did not notice. She was time. And slowly the dark roots of sight curled around her legs, before framing her body to find the forbidden desires within.
What was the difference between reality and dream?
It wasn't a question she could answer.
The rain poured sullenly; on the rooftops of the old abandoned shrine, the fading leaves of spring, tainting and purifying the blood stained ground.
Kagome Higurashi had once again found her self most certainly lost.
A bird with no voice.
Walking with a heavy heart and the weariness of the living she stepped up onto the creaking steps of the old shrine. Over ridden with weeds and patches of dark dirt and dried blood, the shrine looked like it had come out of an old Japanese horror movie. How she longed for the warm comforts of home. Her shrine. Not this small dingy, more or so likely bug infested one.
The paneled door slid with the shushing of rotting wood on rotting wood. Her arms had been crossed, brushing against her tighten nipples, she gripped the short sleeves of her uniform tightly as if that would bring her some warmth. She stiffly moved, soaked from the rain to the small comfort of the inside of the shrine.
"Greetings,"
Kagome froze, every part of her body and mind had stopped on her; only registering the smooth melancholy voice of one she knew all to well. The fear stretched within her.
'Kikyo?'
A giddiness she had not known of kept a leash on her voice. Light, but unyielding. Almost hesitantly she raised her eyes. In a spilt second the clear azure of her own eyes met the deep purple of her incarnate. Butterflies fluttered through the hollowness of her stomach.
"It has been a while," Kikyo said. The white of her hakui contrasting to the seeping darkness slithering through the cracks of the walls; silky black hair framing the pale beauty of her face.
Rising from her sitting position on the floor, Kikyo rose and walked confidently toward her.
In a flash Kagome had whirled around, forced fear causing her blood to rush into her limbs, the need to flee indifferent to her.
Her escape would not be successful, that she knew the moment her eyes registered on the sight of Kikyo's Shindama-chu floating eerily around the shrine.
"Please stay," Kikyo said her expression unreadable, eyes hidden by ebony bangs. Kagome reeled around to face her. She soon felt the cold scaly flesh of a Shinidama-chu wrapping around her torso, binding her arms to her side. Shaking and fighting the need to cry, Kagome forced her self to look at Kikyo. She bit back a gasp of shock when the miko reached out and roughly pulled her face forward, the cold almost smoothness of Kikyo's palm felt wonderful against her skin.
Kikyo brushed the finger tips of her unburden hand across Kagome's sweating brow, brushing the bangs from her eyes. Which had now turned into a stormy blue rather then the usual azure in her confusion, she gazed at them, soft pink lips moving with forgotten words.
"You're burning up," Kikyo whispered gently. A shivered ran through the school girl's body, an unknown ache residing in her. It was then she knew, she was not hot as the response for the chill of rain.
The undead miko cupped her face, and slowly with fluid, water-like grace she pressed her lips to her own.
And Kagome forgot how to breathe.
How to think.
How to act.
Yet, she no longer felt lost.
And as the raging storm sung it's deadly symphony Kagome wept with relief.
The feeling of her tongue against hers, the Shindama-chu flowed from around her body and through the door, out back into the disappearing cold. With soft gentle hands, far different from the ones she used to heal the sick; Kikyo started to caress her flesh. Cooling the feverish heat that had started to make her flesh flush a pink.
With a disguised kindness Kagome felt Kikyo slide her hands under the front of her shirt, kneading the soft flesh of her breasts, casually leading Kagome to walk backwards to the left wall. Coaxing as the hypnotic eyes of a snake, Kikyo braced her against it. And Kagome was starting to see why.
She felt very hot. The hot curling heat in her belly had increased. The ache making her desperate and mewling against Kikyo's hands. Panting, the soft caresses of her hands moving to her bare breasts was enough to loose the mindful thoughts of whether she had worn a bra today or not, Kagome didn't, no couldn't understand why this was happening.
What had brought this on? This feeling of relief in the undead miko's touch? The calm soft look in her eyes every time she touched her? That unmistakable flutter and flush that went through her body that seeped through her pores whenever Kikyo was near her…
She was trapped. Locked in lady death's embrace, held against the body of the revived. And Kagome had to admit she loved it. The poor, melancholy soul that longed for another like. The soul that wished to be with everyone, to know everyone, to be able to love them, and hate them. A soul she had.
The soul she shared.
And sadly before the up coming break of dawn Kagome cupped Kikyo's face and held it in the cup of her hands. Both silently stilled and panting, from the second recent activities of their own, it was incredible to have just come to a sudden halt.
Or perhaps it wasn't.
She was her other half and as Kagome saw the windows in Kikyo's eyes that showed the golden elegant bird of serenity, and she felt whole.
Leaning forward Kagome kissed her.
The purity of Kagome's tears delicious to Kikyo's mouth.
And that was how they found her.
How he found her, tangled in the dark roots of her own desire and the deception of a spell, the young miko was lost in her own dreams.
As the first rays of morning sun stretched out over the silently waking forest, five companions, a Ta-ji-ya and her demon neko companion, along with the cursed Houshi and an orphaned baby kitsune youkai; they were silent.
The silver hair of the fifth shone in the sunrise, noise picking up the traces of fear and arousal on the lost sixth member of their group, still entangled in the deviances of Naraku.
But it didn't matter as the storm's song faded in Kagome's ears. As she lost herself in the echo of it's melody and wept at the reflecting rising sun's light when it touched the feathers of serenity.
She.
The bird would sing.
It was no longer lost.
-Owari-