Yes, yes I know. Another story but trust me when I say this is much different. I can't much explain it so you'll have to read to find out but whatever. Hope you like it! PS. This one I should be able to update quickly.
Oh yeah, and the pairings are InuKag, MirSan, KouAya (maybe) and SessKagr (maybe)
Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha
Prologue: 5 Years Ago
The woman stopped dead in her tracks. She stood alone in a parking lot, the streetlights flickering and suddenly, all of her senses were on edge. Her blood turned cold and the fine hairs on the back of her slender neck stood.
Her eyes widened in terror. She had to leave, to go, runaway… In that instant of sheer blind panic, her ring of keys slipped from her icy grasp and fell to the asphalt below.
Run? Run where? Anywhere… Just get away. Jerkily she bent down to grab her keys. She heard no one but someone was coming. Fate was coming.
One noise, one crunch, so quiet she wouldn't have heard it if she hadn't been listening. But she heard it and it echoed in her ears like a chant of the dead. It's coming…she had to get away. Too late, it's come.
Her blood turned to ice, she could no longer think. She was afraid. Hell, she was terrified. She was going to die. Fate had come.
Defy… Defy fate? Was it even possible? Yes, yes it was. She trusted the voice. It had kept her alive, it had kept her sane. The voice had allowed her to walk the streets proudly, despite the hateful glares and constant scorn. It wasn't a curse, the voice had told her, and it was a gift. She was special and they hated her because they didn't understand. Yes, trust the voice. Run away. Defy fate.
She tried. God, did she try. Her legs pushed forward, her body jerked but small hands grabbed her and she couldn't. She felt its power, its hate, it's all consuming evil. A single tear slipped down her cheek because she couldn't go. She couldn't run.
It was here.
Swiftly, before she could scream for mercy, for fear and for the last will of her life, she was turned around. A deadly smirk coming from blood red lips clouded her vision but soon, that oddly strange fact was put out of her mind when a gleam of cool metal flashed.
Opening her mouth to protest, the wind was soon knocked out of her as the knife was plunged in her stomach. A muted scream left her lips as the killer drilled the knife into her, again and again, deeper and harder…
She felt cold. Her body was numb and already she was past the point of being saved. She could feel the tingle of warm liquid crimson run down from her cuts that now covered her entire body.
'Help,' she begged the voice, pleaded in her mind.
I'm so sorry. I tried.
She understood. A sense of regret was cast upon her. The voice had tried and from the depressed, almost hesitant and weak sound of it, she knew it was true. She had tried to outrun Fate but too late did she try. She had always been a fatalist and when the voice had told her that she had to be careful or she would die, she accepted it and didn't change. That was her only regret. Now because of it, she would die alone.
No. You're never alone.
The killer screamed and for the final time the knife was brought down with such force and agony, she felt nothing else. When she heard her killer run away, leaving the knife buried deep in her chest, it was then that she closed her eyes. She struggled to lift her bloody and weak arms to her chest and let them grasp the knife's hilt. It was buried so deeply into her heart…
Then, as if a switch had been flicked, she was in bliss. She no longer felt pain and instantly, the voice spoke in her mind.
I'm sorry. Please forgive me.
'It's okay. I forgive you.'
Blood gurgled in her mouth as the ability to breathe was no longer possible. It was only a matter of time now. She was going to die.
Thank you. Goodbye Kikyo.
Kikyo Hidaka, age twenty-nine, knew it was her final moment and she smiled peacefully, knowing she wouldn't be alone.
Kagome Higurashi rubbed her sore wrists, the pain a dull beat as she slowly opened her eyes.
'No. Not again.'
It couldn't be true, it shouldn't be true. But it was. What was happening to her? Why was she…doing this?
Looking to the bottom left corner of the computer screen, Kagome gasped and shook her head, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and blinking them until the sandpaper feel was gone. She looked again.
Three hundred and twenty-seven pages…
Three hundred and twenty-freaking-seven pages!
"Impossible," she heard herself murmur though she knew it wasn't true. She had done it; there was no mistaking her writing ability as she read the last three lines on the page. It was hers.
Sitting back in her leather chair at her desk, Kagome placed her hands at her temples and massaged them slowly with varied pressure. This was becoming too much.
"What's happening to me?" she groaned kind enough to her already pounding head to bang it against the wooden desk. "I." Bang. "Don't." Bang. "Get it!"
The pain intensified and Kagome whimpered helplessly.
"Painkillers," she muttered. "Need…painkillers."
With effort, Kagome stood up from her chair and clicked the disk button at the left top of her screen, indicating for the computer to save the work. Much to her aggravation, she noticed that it was already saved and Kagome growled.
"I'm going crazy. Painkillers darn it. Must have…"
Walking through her small bungalow towards the kitchen, Kagome raked a shaky hand through her long black locks and let out a deep breath.
"Alright Kagome," she told herself reasonably, almost amused with the firm tone in her voice. "You're not going crazy. This has only happened for what? Two weeks now? And remember, this has only occurred twice within that time."
She opened the medicine cupboard automatically and grabbed a large plastic container of red pills.
Painkillers! Thank God.
Frowning, Kagome looked at the back where it indicated the amount she should take and for what reasons.
"Mild pain…headache… Two aspirin…" Glaring at the label she shook her head and dumped the contents in her hand. Four came out.
"Good enough," she mumbled and grabbed a random glass that was previously left on her kitchen counter from that night and filled it to the top with water, not caring what else was in it. Swallowing all the pills in one gulp, Kagome hastily threw the cup into the sink a couple feet away and then walked into the bathroom.
When she entered, she wasn't even surprised to see that the figure staring back at her was ghostly pale with bags circling under her big brown eyes. She bit her lower lip nervously and then turned on the tap, splashing some water on her face and shivering at the cool feel.
"Let's try to figure this out," she told herself. "For two weeks now, ever since…ever since M-Mama passed away, I've been having these…wake-up calls." She snorted at the lightly buttered term she gave for such a monstrous sleep-killer. "Who am I kidding?" Kagome scoffed. "Randomly, at least once a week so far, I've been waking up at my desk, wrists sore and head pounding, only to find myself at my desk with my computer turned on and a fully written story complete with epilogues, prologues, full body and interesting plots and all! And worse, these are murder mysteries! Not romance novels! I am a romance novelist. Nothing more and nothing less! The end! Book closed, story finished, end of freaking everything!"
But she knew it wasn't the end. She knew something big was about to happen.
Life-changing would be one word to describe it.
Call it an author's intuition. One who writes stories with such a punch and kick, with twists and turns that keep the reader guessing and guessing, it would be only fitting that the writer itself would get a sense of how to feel when something like that occurred in real life.
Kagome may not have written action or mysteries, but she sure did like reading about them. She loved how in the end, everything was good. Evil had lost and the good has always won. Sure, the odd time someone would be killed but never the main character and very rarely would the main character's lover.
Unless the main character's lover wasn't a main character in itself and therefore, a good plot twist could be inserted but now she was just thinking crazily.
Crazily…God that word now terrified her. For the past two weeks she had been questioning her sanity. She had been thinking strangely, almost like she was waiting for the bad guy to come out and kill her. As if she was waiting for something dramatic and life alteringto happen.
Kagome snorted as she dried the water off of her face. Yeah, right. Like that would ever happen. She remembered when she had decided to go to the movies to watch a chick-flick with her friends Yuka, Ayumi and Eri but in the end, she lied her way through the movie, telling them that her best friend Miroku had called about something important. Of course, he hadn't since he was in the cinema beside hers watching a horror movie, but they didn't know that.
Or they were too engrossed with the movie to even care.
The reason Kagome left was simple. She had found herself too many times anticipating for the girlfriend to get hit with a gun by a gang leader, kidnapped and in turn, losing all her memory, cause her to become a hit-woman and killing innocents until one day she meets her long, once upon a time boyfriend and realizes she has to kill him. And then…
Her fears were confirmed.
She was definitely losing it.
That or she simply read too many books. Give or choose…
"Kagome, stop thinking like this," she ranted. "It's stupid and pointless. You're making absolutely no sense whatsoever. Now, what are we going to do about this?"
Kagome turned to stare back into the mirror.
"First of all, I'm going to have to tell-"
First of all, she was going to have to stop talking to herself. That could possibly help a bit. If not, it would dampen her assumptions of her going crazy.
Okay. One step at a time, that's what she should do.
Read the story.
Kagome gulped and winced slightly, looking outside the left open bathroom door down the hall, the computer's faint light glowing brilliantly in the dark of the house.
Normally, these stories she wrote unconsciously never ended up truly happy because they usually always left something mysterious to it. A mystery unsolved with the hopes that one day, it would be.
With the way she was going about this, she doubted that it ever would be.
Kagome willed herself to move and finally made it over to her desk, the computer's screen saver now activated at the long wait and once Kagome moved the mouse slightly, her new story came up.
The story flowed; one part came to the next. It was brilliant…no. Brilliant was too meaningless of a word to describe the three hundred and twenty-seven page novel. It was the perfect story, an author's dream. Angst, mystery, romance, fantasy, a touch of supernatural, some religious being to it, action, humour and drama, it was all there.
And she wrote it.
Well, unconsciously anyways.
By the end of the story, Kagome was balling her eyes out, her pale face now flushed red with tears and her eyelashes glittered with the tears that didn't fall. Her eyes were glazed and a constant sniffing could be heard as another sob came and she continued to read the story.
She didn't stop though. She couldn't stop. It was addictive and for hours Kagome sat there, reading on and on, never stopping. At the end of it, Kagome realized that during the entire thing she hadn't once been bored. The story had kept her going and going, urging her to read it until the very last word on the very last page.
The ending was a little more than depressing but twenty-minutes afterwards, as she stared dully at the screen, she knew that the ending had just added to it. It was an amazing book.
More than that…
It was perfect.
Once again, Kagome rubbed her temples and took deep breaths, trying to make sense of everything. The story, the tale had been so realistic it almost made her wonder if it was a true story. The words, the characters, the plot, the outline, the outcome…all of it added to something she couldn't comprehend and half an hour later, Kagome found herself still sitting at her desk and staring at the screen, thinking about nothing other than the story she had just read.
The story she had just written.
She couldn't believe it. In all honesty, she just couldn't. She never wrote such horrid tales like the one she had just read. She wrote stories that normally never needed a strong forwarding plot because it was just strictly romance.
Something Kagome knew had changed.
A thrill inside her pulsed and suddenly, she couldn't really imagine a story without some mystery in it. Not the sort of mystery whether she was being too clingy or too protective, the mystery of who did it and why.
Two weeks. Two stories…
Kagome remembered the first story she had written and above the rest it had been the most traumatic. It was about a woman in her late twenties being murdered in an abandoned parking lot. The killer had been different…unexpected in criteria and yet in the end you never knew who did it or why. She was a type of medium, one who was able to talk to the dead, yet not be able to see them.
The woman's name was Kikyo and as far as Kagome was concerned, she had never known that name to exist. How she thought up a name like that, whether conscious, half-conscious or unconscious, was still a mystery to her.
The worst of everything was that she didn't know what to do about it. Her doctors –after consulting them on the first incident- told her it was merely her unconscious state exerting stress in a way that was familiar to her body.
Not her mind. She didn't write murders.
For the fact that she didn't want to be thrown in a padded room, she kept the information about writing descriptive and terrifying deaths and stated that it was romance novels instead.
Like she normally did…
Which brought the question: what is normal?
She thought by telling her doctor she'd be taking a step ahead to solve the problem but really, she took two steps back. It had just made her doubt her sanity and self as a person.
You think you've got a foot in the door but you've got a foot in the grave…
Just like poor sweet Rin.
Tears were once again brought to Kagome's eyes as she blinked rapidly, remembering the second story, the story she had just read about twenty-six year old Rin Noto who laid peacefully in the dirt in a vast field, her arrangement by the killer meant to bring shock.
'When she was found the next morning, nothing could stop the fear and horror that had befallen the group and seeped into their bones. Rin's lips were curved into a smile and other than the paleness of her flesh, it looked like she was sleeping, bathed in the sun's morning rays of tranquility. Her white nightgown –now stained blood red- was surprisingly untouched other than the slash in the direct center of her chest. That and the large slash at her throat –the cause of most blood- in which caused the beautiful Rin to be nearly decapitated.
'The most shocking though, was the layout of the girl. Around her body in a rectangle where large stones of varied colours and right above her head, a large cross made of two small planks of wood stood, the black block lettered words 'Die' startling.
'But the scariest of all on that summer's morning was that the knife that had killed her lay in her grasp as if she treasured it, and her innocent eyes that had been the gateway for her soul were left open, glaring at them accusingly.'
And to think, that was the final chapter.
The final words…
Kagome unconsciously held a small pink jewel necklace for a moment and then shut her computer down, not exactly knowing how long the thing was running. Making her way into her fully-furnished kitchen, Kagome gasped when she saw the time.
It was two in the morning.
Weakness got her in the knees but Kagome forced herself to stay up and push those long ago thoughts to the back of her mind. It was over now.
He was gone.
He would never find her.
Grabbing her cell that occupied a space on the kitchen counter, Kagome dialled from memory Miroku Tsujitani's phone number.
Kagome had known Miroku since she was a little girl when she had once lived in a lodge type hotel where both her parents had lived. His uncle was a manager there and she had met him in the gardens. They had been best friends ever since. Even after they moved out when she was eight, they had kept in touch and occasionally (at least once a week but he claims longer) saw each other and went to parks and movies.
Now, he was practically her brother.
"Kagome? Do you know what time it is?"
"Yeah but Miroku, it happened again. I think you should come and look at this."
Grumbling could be heard on the other side and Miroku made a curt answer that Kagome couldn't make out. She was focusing more on the creaking of her wood floors.
Kagome looked to the time. Two-oh-five…
"Jesus," Kagome cursed when she saw a shadow and spun around.
"Boo," came a deep voice from behind and Kagome barely even had time to scream before she was knocked out.
"Kagome? Kagome!" Miroku screamed on the other end but was only replied with the beeping of a dead line.
There you have it, the end of the prologue. I'm not sure how this will all work out in the end but meh, I'll cross that bridge when I get to it. Now, if you read my story Music, Fame and Hell I think you should be able to tell the difference in my writing. If you can't, then it's probably just me and it would be best to ignore my ramblings.