Per a reviewer's request, I'm posting this one as a separate story as well as with my oneshots. Kanna stories are hard to find and this one might be overlooked if it's just part of my other drabbles. Anyone else feel that way? Opinions are always welcome!
Looking down over the valley with her expressionless face, Kanna wondered exactly how she was supposed to feel about this.
Naraku had been defeated. Kanna watched as his enemies rejoiced, dancing around and crying with happiness. She herself felt nothing, absolutely nothing. She reflected that if she had ever been capable of feeling an emotion, now would be the time that she would do so. Naraku had been, after all, the only focus of her short life. She should regret losing that.
Kanna sank to the ground and pondered on the subject. No, she did not feel any regret for Naraku. He had been her creator, for all practical purposes the only father she would ever know. Kanna did not think of him that way, there was no affection, no bond between them other than that of servant and master. No, she should not think of such a thing as father. Rather un-father, as she herself was to him an un-daughter for all she had been born of his body and his intent.
She was not a creation of evil, no more than she was a creation of good. Instead, Kanna thought of herself as merely the reflection of Naraku's intentions, his purpose. That did not make her evil. That did not make her anything at all.
It might have been better to have been evil, at least if she had been evil she might feel something more than emptiness right now. Perhaps she would be filled with the desire for vengance, maybe driven to attack those who had slain her master. Kanna rather doubted it. Naraku did not inspire such loyalty.
She was like the mirror, that made more sense. Her fingers caressed the cool, smooth surface of the glass. It was the one constant in her life, had been since the moment Naraku had placed it in her hands. She knew nothing else about it, how it had been fashioned or for what purpose. They were alike in that respect, Kanna thought. Both created for another's use, having no will or direction of their own. They could both only reflect their master's desires, having none of their own to speak of.
Kanna raised the mirror before her, studying her reflection for the hundredth or thousandth time since she'd first turned her inward gaze upon herself. There was nothing remarkable to see. Her hair was white, her skin very nearly as pale. Only her eyes gave her features contrast, stark in their black bottomless depths. They were the eyes of the void and reflected the nothingness of her existence.
The mirror could also steal souls. As she gazed into the mysterious glass, she wondered why it made no attempt to take hers. Was it because she was its mistress and only her command could cause it to do so? Perhaps it was the fact that her own soul was so empty, so void of all meaning, that even her mirror didn't consider it to be worth stealing. Kanna had often wondered about that fact, given the nature of her own creation. Did youkai have souls to steal?
Was she even really alive?
A bit of movement from the valley caught her attention. Kanna watched as the hanyou that Naraku had so despised swept the young priestess up in a passionate kiss to celebrate their victory. The couple's companions looked on and cheered, at least until the houshi tried to do the same to the taijya. The young woman pulled away and slapped him hard, knocking the amorous monk to the ground. Then she did something most strange in Kanna's opinion. The taijya knelt beside him in apology and offered him her hand. The monk raised it to his lips and kissed it gently.
That perplexed Kanna and a small frown appeared between her brows. She did not understand. And there was no one to explain it to her. Was this the reason they'd fought so hard against Naraku? Could it be that it was their feelings for each other that had driven them to fight, to not give up hope in the face of hopelessness? What would it be like feel like that? To care about another's life more than one's own. To not be moved by power, or rage, or revenge, but instead friendship, even love?
It was possible she would never understand.
The girl's dark eyes raised to regard the young taijya boy that had been enslaved by Naraku. Kohaku looked a little dazed, wobbling on his feet, but there was something about his face that made him almost unrecognizable to her. He was smiling.
"You're alive," she said, her soft voice as always barely more than a whisper.
He nodded, his thin face was still pale but his eyes were brighter than she'd ever seen them. "The shard," he said, as if that answered everything.
Of course. The jewel was still keeping him alive, even Naraku's death didn't dim its power. The only difference was that now Kohaku was no longer a prisoner, no longer a tool to be used against those he loved. He was free.
"I have to go see my sister," the boy said. He stared down at the small rejoicing group almost hungrily. His desire to join them was nearly palpable, emanating from his body as an aura; a miasma of sheer happiness. She expected him to run to them and be welcomed by warm, accepting arms. Something she herself would never know.
"Come with me," he said, holding out his hand.
She stared at his palm as if he'd offered her death instead. Silently her black eyes bored into him, accusing him, as if he'd mocked her with his offer. Kanna didn't move, but every muscle in her small body became tense with...something. With...wanting.
Slowly, Kohaku dropped his hand as he understood what she might be thinking. "You're alive, Kanna," he said softly, his eyes again drawn to his sister and her friends. "You don't belong to him anymore."
Kanna didn't answer as the taijya boy turned away, hurrying down the hill to be reunited with his beloved sister. She found that she was holding her breath as the woman spotted him, crying out wordlessly as she ran to her brother and swept him into her arms. Sobbing as they both fell to the ground in each other's embrace, too weak with their relief to stand.
She was trembling and she didn't know why. It felt like something inside her was breaking apart, falling away, curling like paper being burned to ash and crumbling into the wind. Kanna made herself move, slowly getting to her feet, inhaling deeply as she turned her face to the sky.
She was not nothing. She was free.
And then, for the very first time, Kanna started to smile.