InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Desideratum ❯ Assimilation ( Chapter 6 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
~~Chapter 6~~

Kago me carefully nocked the arrow back and took aim, focusing her energy into the softly glowing tip.  It was one of the exercises she did daily to keep her senses open and receptive, and she had to admit that, in the time since they'd defeated Naraku, she had grown a little rusty.  It just hadn't been the same, and while they'd fought some youkai along the way, it wasn't like it had been before.  Fighting every day . . . remaining on constant guard . . . She had let her focus drift, and she knew it.

She went through the motions of training with Kaede every day despite her preoccupation and the pain that was never very far away, and all the while, she tortured herself with questions and thoughts . . . 'What would InuYasha think of this . . .?  Would he think I'm being stupid?  Would he be angry?  Would he think that I was trying to be too much like Kikyou . . .?  Would he be proud of the progress I've made?'

The questions were enough to drive her insane.

The breeze caught her hair, tossing it into her face.  She shook her head to clear her vision, focusing her energy into the arrow.  Releasing it, watching as it zipped through the air, she saw it all with a certain level of detachment.   The arrow struck the target dead center—an ofuda that Miroku had affixed to the trunk of a stout tree that held a barrier in place.  The barrier was released with a flash of pink light.  She turned away, lowering the bow as she strode away from the field as the ofuda burst into flame and curled up on itself.

She felt like a stranger in her own skin.  With every day that passed, she felt more and more like she was standing back, simply watching someone else's life—someone who called herself Kagome but who wasn't; not really.  Too bad she wasn't sure who the girl was.

'Was this how Kikyou felt . . . when she looked at . . . me . . .?'

Brushing the thought aside, she closed her eyes and kept walking toward the village.  She could hear the sounds of children playing—laughing and yelling, the kinds of noises that were timeless and beautiful and somehow sad, just the same.  The sun was shining, the breeze was gentle . . . the varying sounds of animals blended with it all to create a calm.

Yet the more peaceful that the day was seemed, the more fake it felt, and the biggest fake of all was Kagome.

Smiling brightly at a few children chasing after a makeshift ball, she wondered vaguely when the last time she'd felt like smiling really was, wondered if they could see right through it if they tried hard enough.  "Will you play, Kagome-sama?" one of the children asked.

Her smile faltered.  "Not today," she said, very aware that she always indulged the village children when they'd ask her to join them.  Today, though . . .

Veering away from the village, she took the path that led toward the river nearby.  Kaede had mentioned something about journeying to a neighboring village to exorcise an earth spirit that had taken up residence in a hilltop shrine. She'd wanted Kagome to come along; Kagome had sensed it—and had summarily ignored it.  To her, it felt like everything was crashing down on her, crushing her, bearing down so heavily that she had to struggle just to breathe.

The sanctuary on the bank of the peaceful water soothed her, calmed her, as unbidden memories dug under the edges of her shaky façade.  InuYasha, sitting on the cliff overhead as she bathed . . . It was the first time he'd looked at her with anything other than absolute disdain, and while she'd come to realize later that his curiosity had more to do with Kikyou than it did her, she'd never, ever forget the feel of those amazing golden eyes staring at her, either.

Crumpling to the ground beside the water, she covered her face in her hands and drew a steadying breath.


She didn't uncover her face at the sound of Miroku's voice.  She didn't acknowledge him at all.

She heard the chimes of his shakuju coming closer, and he hunkered down beside her with a gentle sigh.  "You did well in training today," he said softly.

"Did I?" she asked quietly.

Miroku cleared his throat, and somehow she knew that he was trying to weigh his words carefully.  "You did," he finally allowed.  "So well, in fact, that I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it for myself."

"That's what expected of me, isn't it?" she replied, her voice taking on a vague sort of monotone.  "That's all I have left . . ."

"You don't really believe that, do you?"

Kagome sighed.  "I don't know . . . I don't know anything.  I think . . . I think I'm losing myself," she whispered, shaking her head as she tried to make him understand just what she was trying to say.  "I can feel it every day . . . I'm losing those things that made me who I am . . ."

Miroku sighed and shifted to sit beside her.  "Is that honestly how you see it?"

She nodded, finally lifting her face, closing her eyes as she allowed the gentle breeze to soothe her.  "I . . . I don't know . . ."

"You don't want to be a miko?" he asked gently, lending voice to the singular question that had been plaguing Kagome for awhile.

"I . . ." With a sigh, she shook her head and bit her lip, staring out over the landscape, her eyes shifting quickly with every movement on the far side of the stream; waiting for a flash of silver, a blur of crimson . . . and when she realized what she was doing, she sank her teeth into the soft inside of her cheek, willing herself not to scream as a pang of loss so harsh, so strong, hit her yet again.  It was those pangs that had convinced her that she was still alive, after all, but suddenly she had to wonder . . .

'If I look down, would I see my hands?  My feet?  Would I see . . . myself . . .?'

"You don't have to become a miko if it isn't what you want," Miroku said, breaking the silence that had fallen.  "We simply thought it best for you to learn how to use the power you have.  What you choose to do with that power is entirely up to you."

It was the same thing that he'd said before; that they'd all said before.  In the beginning when the suggestion had been made, they'd all maintained that it was best to have Kaede teach her how to harness and use her spiritual power, and while Kagome knew deep down that they were trying to help her—maybe trying to distract her.  In the end, she had to wonder if they weren't also trying to change her, even if they weren't really conscious of the intention . . .

Shooting to her feet rather abruptly, she gawped, dumbfounded, at the reflection mirrored on the water.  Hair hanging down her back but caught toward the end by an insular white band of cloth . . . white haori . . . red hakama . . . the quiver of arrows peeking over her shoulder . . . even the expression on her face wasn't truly her own: a blankness that she'd seen far too often on another face at another time . . . Blinking once, twice, to clear her vision, she snatched up the bow and jammed it down hard in the center of the reflection, disbursing the image with a splash and a ripple.

It was too much, wasn't it?  Too hard to look at herself; too difficult to separate herself from the image that had mocked her.  'I . . . I'm not . . .'

Turning on her heel and dashing away, she ignored Miroku's voice calling after her as she ran blindly through the trees.

Breaking through the forest into the clearing around the small village, she ignored the odd looks she garnered; ignored the voices calling out to her.  Kaede's hut was mercifully empty.  The old miko still hadn't returned.  With a harsh cry, Kagome dropped to her knees, shaking her head as she frantically dug through the bag for the familiarity she needed.  Clothes—her own clothes . . . whimpering softly, she pulled the clothes out with a shaking hand, yanking on the ties of the hakama with the other.

'I'm not Kikyou,' she thought, tugging and pulling at the clothes that didn't seem to want to be discarded.  'I'm not Kikyou; I'm not Kikyou . . .' Wincing as she struggled with the stubborn fastenings, she couldn't help the rising panic, the fierce surge of absolute fear that shot through her.  "I'm Kagome," she whispered, a tear spilling over; coursing down her cheek.  "Kagome . . . Kagome!"

Hurling the haori across the small hut, she dashed her hand over her eyes and snatched up the pale pink blouse, tugging it over her head in a reckless sort of way, she couldn't help the little sob that escaped her as the sense of familiarity of having her own clothing on buffered her.

"Kagome?  Is something amiss?" Kaede asked as she pushed aside the mat covering the doorway and stepped into the hut.

Tugging the zipper on the side of the skirt up, Kagome managed a shaky little smile that was entirely too thin but would have to suffice.  "No, not at all . . . I'm fine; just fine . . ." she assured the aging miko.

Kaede's eyes slowly shifted around the room, taking in the garments that Kagome had throw in her haste to be rid of them.  "Be ye certain, child?"

"Of course," she insisted, her smile faltering despite her best efforts to keep from letting Kaede see through her upset.

Kaede nodded slowly, shuffling across the floor to take up a hunk of wood for the dying fire in the pit.  She didn't speak as she hunkered down, carefully coaxing the fire back to life.  "Kagome . . . do ye not wish to train as a miko?"

Taking her time adjusting the hem of her blouse, Kagome didn't respond right away.  Sitting on the edge of the wooden platform floor, she carefully tugged off the long white stockings before pulling her bag over to root through it for a pair of her normal socks.  "Training's fine," she allowed, careful to keep her gaze trained on the socks she gathered in her hands to pull the first one on.

"Ye fear that ye will lose yourself," Kaede ventured when Kagome didn't volunteer more information.

Giving up her pretense, Kagome hunched forward, wrapping her arms around her legs and letting her chin fall onto her knees.  "I don't have an identity here," she murmured, her voice catching as emotion rose to choke her.  "I . . . I don't guess I ever have."

"Of course ye have," Kaede said though not unkindly.  "Ye never have given yourself enough credit."

She didn't respond for a moment, wishing that she could understand the things that had never made much sense.  "Can I ask you something?" she finally ventured, watching a bird soaring through the crystal blue sky outside the hut through a window.

"What is it?"

She made a face and hugged her knees tighter.  "Who do you see . . .?  When you look at me . . .?"

"Ye are no more my sister than my sister could be you," she replied quietly.  "Kagome, ye must forge your own path . . . and mayhap ye should stop looking to the past to better see the future."

'Stop . . . looking to the past . . .?  To . . . InuYasha . . .'

Standing abruptly, she walked out of the hut without another word to the old miko.  Blinking fast to stave back the hotness that poked at her eyelids, she knew deep down that Kaede was just trying to help her, and yet she couldn't suppress the rise of anger that nearly choked her, either.  InuYasha had done so much for the village; protecting it from youkai and other threats.  He'd become a part of her life; inseparable, really, and now . . .

'Stop?  How?  And how could they?' she fumed.  After all was said and done, and it was so easy for them, wasn't it?  Easy to shove him back, easy to lock the memories away, to allow him to become nothing more than a legend, a fairy tale, a bedtime story for children.  All of the things he'd done, the times he'd stood up to protect them all, and now . . .

Smashing her fist against her lips, she broke into a sprint as she neared the path—the one that led to Goshinboku . . . the one that led to the well . . .


Miroku watched Kagome's hasty retreat with a thoughtful frown darkening his gaze as the breeze stirred his bangs.  As abrupt as her behavior was, he had to admit, however grudgingly, that it was a good sign.  She'd been walking around in an almost trance-like state for far too long, and he'd been worried that she'd never snap out of it.  Even if she wasn't in the best of spirits, he had to allow that it was a relief,

A flash of color drew his attention, and he couldn't help the indulgent little smile that surfaced on his features as Sango stepped out from behind the foliage that otherwise blocked her from view.  Spotting him hunkered down beside the water, she returned his smile, albeit a little shyly as she made her way to his side.  "Have you seen Kagome-chan?" she asked, breaking the companionable silence.

"You didn't pass her?" he asked, his smile fading as he slowly got to his feet.

"No . . ."

"Hmm . . ."

He could feel her discerning gaze on him.  "How did the training go?" she asked softly.

Miroku shrugged.  "She's doing very well," he allowed.

"Why don't you sound as though that's a good thing?"

Casting her a half-hearted smile, Miroku shook his head.  No doubt about it, Sango was far too perceptive.  "She thinks she's losing touch with herself."

Sango considered that and slowly nodded.  "It must be difficult for her."

There wasn't really anything that he could say to that.  True enough, he knew.  It was a tough thing when the one person who had always served to give Kagome a defining presence was no longer there.

"Where are the children?" he asked suddenly since Sango had taken Shippou and Bunza with her and Kaede to exorcise the hilltop shrine.

Letting out a deep breath, the taijya shook her head slowly.  "Those two . . ." she began only to trail off with a sigh.

Miroku winced in commiseration.  "Still not getting along well?"

Sango shot him a dark look, her meaning clear, and he chuckled.  True enough.  The two seemed to get along too well or just not well enough, depending.  Judging from the look on Sango's face, though, Miroku figured that it was the latter of those options today.

"They fought over who got to help Kaede check the shrine," she admitted at length.

"They couldn't both help her?"

Kirara climbed into Sango's lap and yawned wide before curling up in a ball and closing her eyes for a nap.  "No . . . and they interrupted Kaede's mantras a number of times before I thought to send them both off to find a few herbs that we didn't need."

"That's my smart girl," Miroku intoned with a soft chuckle.  "Both wise and beautiful . . ."

The woman's cheeks pinked at the warmth of his praise, and she scrunched up her shoulders in a decidedly nervous sort of way.  Biting her lip, she stared over the water's surface, and while Miroku didn't shift his gaze away from the rise of trees on the far side of the stream, he could feel the intensity of her stare time and again.  It was dangerous, wasn't it?  Sitting here with her . . . 'How ironic . . .' he thought with a sardonic little smile that held very little real humor.

'I cannot change things for you.  I cannot lessen your fears nor can I dispel your doubts.  I can tell you that the things you seek are not impossible.  The path is troublesome, but you, Miroku . . . you must be certain that it is what you truly want.'

Closing his eyes just for a moment as he tried in vain to forget the meaning behind Midoriko's words, Miroku frowned.

That was the trouble, wasn't it?  He knew what he truly wanted, and yet . . .

And yet those choices that Midoriko had alluded to . . . They were choices that he wasn't entirely certain that he could ask Sango to live with, either . . .


"You failed to mention exactly how . . . charming . . . he can be."

Sesshoumaru strode along the wide corridor illuminated by the ambient wall sconces that dotted the walls of the elegantly appointed office building.  Sparing a glance at the hanyou who walked beside him, he didn't pause in his gait as they headed toward the grand staircase in the center of the area.  "I told you that he was a baka," he intoned smoothly.

Sora's lips twisted into a sardonic little smile, and he shrugged as he stuffed his hands into his pockets and nodded at a woman hurrying past with her arms full of manila folders.  "Was it really all right to leave him in the forest?" he asked at length.

Heels clicking against the cold marble floor, the Inu no Taisho's steps resounded in the comparative quiet.  "Incidentals," Sesshoumaru remarked.  "There are far more pressing matters at the moment.  I cannot be bothered by the likes of InuYasha."

Neither man reached for the banister railing that lined either side of the immense staircase.  For the moment, Sesshoumaru's words had taken the edge off Sora's very real concerns.

At least the meeting had proven interesting.  He wasn't sure what, exactly, he'd expected.  After having heard so much about the hanyou history called InuYasha, he had to admit that he was taken by surprise by the surly, defensive teenager that he'd led on a merry chase through the woods.

"I must confess, the stories I heard did not do him justice," Sora went on with a shake of his head as his smile widened slightly.  "He's much more volatile than I was led to believe."

"I have cautioned you before not to trust everything you hear," Sesshoumaru reminded him.

Sora nodded vaguely.  "You did," he agreed at length, lifting his gaze to the vast open ceiling of the skyplex.  "She . . . She wasn't with him."

Considering Sora's observation for several long moments, Sesshoumaru nodded.  "It doesn't matter."

Raising an eyebrow at Sesshoumaru's marked lack of concern, Sora frowned.  Of course, it bothered him.  But if Sesshoumaru didn't find anything amiss, then Sora could only assume that perhaps he was simply over-thinking the situation.  "So what's next?"

"Next?" Sesshoumaru repeated.  Sora could feel his gaze though the youkai hadn't bothered to turn his head.  "Next . . . we wait."

"Why?" he challenged sharply, casting Sesshoumaru a questioning glance.  "We know where he is . . ."

The look he garnered for daring to doubt Sesshoumaru's command was enough to diffuse the precluding sense of haste that had remained just below the surface of Sora's affected calm since the altercation in the woods days ago.  It was a frightening expression, full of disdain and designed to let one know when he had overstepped his boundaries.  It was simple to see exactly why Sesshoumaru was the undisputed Inu no Taisho, in Sora's estimation.  "I apologize," he murmured, making a low bow.  "I did not mean to be presumptuous."

"You show your true colors," Sesshoumaru mused.

The hanyou grinned.  "Is that a compliment?"

"Take it as you will."

Sora chuckled softly, even as he reminded himself that the only thing that could help him now was to exercise the patience he'd struggled so long to learn.  "And you are certain that he will come to you?"

Sesshoumaru considered Sora's last question.  "He will," he decided, "and when he does . . . I trust you remember what you're to do."

Sora nodded slowly, his amused expression dissipating, only to be replaced with a steely glint of absolute determination.  "Absolutely, Sesshoumaru-sama.  Leave it to me."


InuYasha dug his claws into the table top and concentrated on the idea that he really, really, really couldn't tear the irritating human limb from limb—at least, he couldn't unless he wanted to endure what he figured would be a fairly nasty scolding from Mrs. Higurashi, that was . . .

"So if you take the numerator and multiply it by the denominator, then you'll get the product, and—"

'And I don't give a rat's ass!' he fumed, glowering across the table at the oblivious Houjou who had his nose buried so deeply in the text book that he wasn't even aware of the mutinous scowl he was receiving.

"—try the next problem.  I'll bet you can get it if you just set your mind to it."

No doubt about it, Houjou's eternal optimism was stepping all over InuYasha's last nerve.  With a muted growl, the pencil that he'd been gripping snapped in half, and that, at least, was enough to draw the human's attention.  "Lesson's over," he snarled, standing up so abruptly that he shoved the chair back with a loud scrape.

"Uh, okay," Houjou agreed, looking completely perplexed as he started to gather his things.  "Just work the rest of the problems on this page, then, and I'll . . . I'll be back tomorrow."

InuYasha snorted noncommittally, tossing the remnants of the pencil in the general vicinity of the trash can as he stomped out of the kitchen.  Beneath the baseball cap that Mrs. Higurashi had reminded him to put on just before Houjou's arrival, his ears twitched nervously, and he grimaced.  He started to reach up to yank it off only to stop when he spotted the old man leading a few tourists around the shrine grounds.

"Aww, for fuck's sake," he muttered, stopping short as he weighed his options.  He could go hide in Kagome's room, but he still hated to go in there.  Odd thing, really . . . being surrounded by Kagome's lingering scent both comforted and irritated him at the same time.  'Damn her,' he thought with an inward snort.  'Stupid girl . . . can't even make a wish right, can she?  She's completely useless without me . . .'

The snort shifted into a soft little whine, and without stopping to consider his actions any further, he pushed the door open and stomped past the tourists who were all staring at him with varying degrees of interest—possibly because he'd managed to sniff out his old clothing and put it on, much to his satisfaction, and much to Mrs. Higurashi's dismay.

"There's an old legend about a terrible, ornery hanyou who was pinned by a sacred arrow to this very tree!" the old man was saying.

Ordinarily, InuYasha might have taken issue over the 'terrible, ornery hanyou' part, but he just didn't feel like spending the next hour yelling at the crazy old man, either.  He kept moving toward the one place where he might find a modicum of peace, and only because it wasn't an area that was normally part of the tour—the well house.

To be honest, InuYasha had never really stopped to think about why the well wasn't part of the tour, though he had a feeling that it had more to do with the loss of Kagome than because an old dry well was less than fascinating.  He felt it too, didn't he?  Every time he stepped into the shadowy building, he couldn't help but remember the countless times that he'd traveled through that very well—sometimes to fetch Kagome, sometimes to bring her home to visit . . . sometimes just because he missed her . . . Maybe . . . Maybe he ought to have told her that last part a little more often . . .

Hunkering on the steps, he pulled the baseball cap off and let it tumble from his fingers as a thousand memories assailed him in the dimness and the quiet of the stagnant air.

'Kagome . . .'

What was she doing now?  Was she helping the others to protect the village?  He grimaced.  'That damned pervert and Sango better be taking care of her,' he thought with a decisive snort.  'Kami only knows the kind of trouble she'll get into if they leave her to her own devices . . .'

That was right, wasn't it?  How many times had she gotten him into precarious situations simply because she never knew when to leave well enough alone?  Jumping right into the fray when Sesshoumaru had tracked him down to challenge him over the ownership of Tetsusaiga . . . getting herself kidnapped by that moron, Kouga . . . nearly dying from poison in that damned burning shrine . . . so many more times than he really wanted to consider, and still he couldn't help the sad little smile that turned up the corners of his lips as he remembered the feeling of contentment that he'd gotten just knowing that she was there with him.  She wanted to be, that's what she'd said, even if he hadn't deserved her devotion.

'Keh!  If she wanted to be with me, why isn't she now?' he fumed, shaking his head as a rapid gush of anger shoved the melancholy feelings aside.  As though he couldn't control the need to move, he shot to his feet and stomped across the well house to retrieve the carefully wrapped piece of wood that he had stashed under the platform that ran around the perimeter of the building.

Strange how the parcel seemed to temper his anger.  Frowning at the smudgy cloth that he'd carefully wrapped around the simple shelf he'd fashioned out of the branch of Goshinboku he'd cut down, he let out a deep breath and felt his ears flatten momentarily.

He supposed that it was stupid.  There was a strange sense of urgency that he couldn't shake, an unreasonable fear that if he didn't hurry, something terrible would happen.  It didn't matter that he knew damn well that nothing would be able to bring her back, he couldn't help but think that maybe, if he could finish this . . . maybe . . .

With a deft hop, he lit on the edge of the well, holding the shelf against his chest, he stared down into the darkened void.  He hadn't been inside it since he'd found the letter she had written him.  Almost afraid that he would find another one, he had ignored the urge to test the portal since he knew deep down that the well really was closed.

Settling down with a dejected sigh and a shake of his head, InuYasha carefully unwrapped the piece of wood that he'd been carving.  A small shelf carved out of a solitary branch from Goshinboku, it was simple—almost plain—yet he had a strange feeling that it would please Kagome.

'If she ever sees it . . .'

Wincing inwardly as the truth behind that statement struck a little too close to home, InuYasha ground his teeth together, willing away the familiar ache that always accompanied his thoughts of Kagome, of the time that he knew and the life he'd left behind.  From the moment he'd started to fade—the moment he'd realized that Kagome had wished for something entirely different—he felt as though he'd somehow stopped living, existing on the edge of nothing.  He'd lost everything in that moment, hadn't he?  His reason to fight, his feeling that he was worth something, after all . . . Somehow in the course of the years since he'd first met her so long ago, she'd quietly and gently and without his ever having realized it . . . She'd become all of those things to him, and he . . .

Kami, he missed her.

'There has to be a way,' he thought with a scowl as he shaved away bits of wood here and there along the plane of the shelf.  'Just have to figure out how . . .'

Too bad there wasn't someone who could just tell him how to do it.  He'd been thinking about it ever since the night everything had happened, to no avail.  He'd thought so hard that his head hurt, and he wasn't any closer to figuring out if there was anything he could do than he had been in the beginning.

Rubbing the wood with the pad of his thumb, he sighed again and slowly shook his head, his scowl resurfacing as he concentrated on the task at hand.

If there were someone who knew and understood his problem, maybe they could help him figure out how to fix it all . . .

Someone . . . someone . . .

Sitting up straight, InuYasha's eyes flared as an insular thought occurred to him.  "That's . . . That's right . . ." he murmured.

The shelf thumped on the packed earth floor as he shot to his feet and stomped toward the stairs, pausing only long enough to snatch up the baseball cap as he snorted indelicately since he really had to wonder exactly why he hadn't thought of it sooner.  It was all-too obvious, wasn't it?  Well, provided he could find him, anyway . . .

'He'd know, wouldn't he?' he fumed as he shoved out of the well house and into the hazy afternoon sunshine.  'That damned old bastard . . . of course he would . . .'

~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~ =~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~
Taijya: Youkai exterminator.
== == == == == == == == == ==
kds1222 ------ OROsan0677 ------ YangofYin ------ Ochiko ------ JasonC ------ kamackie21 ------ lere ------ inuyashaloverr ------ Aozora_Tennyo ------ BladesoftheValkyrie ------ cwillia ------ xbitternessx ------ Braden ------ MidnightsKeeper ------ KAZ1167 ------ Xoblackchildxo ------ stardragon ------ Autumn_the_Reviewer ------ mysereye12 ------ Aozora_Tennyo ------ MetsukiKaraTen ------ cynbad146 ------ rainydays ------ Lady_Kaede23 ----- Dark Inu Fan ------ flrsblue ------ Vanquisher ------ Hopelessly Escaflowne ------ Ravashing ------ Cynbad146 ------ saygoodnight ------ iloveanimecartoons ------ ThisIsMeSmiling ------ littleolme ------ Sesshomaru4Kagura4ever
OROsan0677 ------ My Own Self ------ cutechick18 ------ psycho_chick32 ------ Mangaluva
Final Thought from InuYasha:
What the hell do I need to know math for …?
Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in Desideratum):  I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga.  Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al.  I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize.


Chapter 5
Chapter 7
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