InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Miroku's Lyric ❯ Session Sixteen ( Chapter 16 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

"Afraid of my reflection
Tell me that's not me I see
That's who I wanna be
Stuck somewhere in the middle
On half full or half empty
Waiting for somebody to come and rescue me"

Session Sixteen- Family

Memoir of Sango...

She ran.

She could not hide from it here. Only here, it could thrive freely, haunting her, torturing her. She could not supress it when in this state. This was it's territory, yet at the same time, it was her own. It continued to plague her, destroy her from the inside out. The evil showed no mercy, no compassion, no remorse as the heartless being gave chase, both knowing it could easily catch her, and kill her.

But she continued to run, her own territory working against her. It would pull her back, slow her down with an unreal force. She would become conscious of it, and speed up, only to be slowed down again by the force. Cuts and bruises scarred her frail form. She was more than aware of the state she was in, trying desperately to force herself out of it, only to be thrust back into it by physical need of rest.

Trapped in her own subconcious, she continued to run, knowing this dream all too well. The being surmounted her, driving its maledictions into her skull, raping her mind. Silent screams racked at empty lungs as she tried with all her might to pry herself awake from the terrors. She felt her lids pry open with utmost effort, only to shut back into oblivion.

Turning her attention back into her subconcious, she studied her surroundings. The room, she knew the room all too well. She was in the corner of the room, merely a person without a body, a visionary with no eyes. She saw the two figures in the room, their argument she clearly remembered. She looked towards the staircase. She didn't need to see the person to know who was up there. There, at the top of the stairway, sat a girl of no more than sixteen years. A girl not yet fully tainted by the visitor downstairs, a girl who shared her eyes, her face, her memories, her identity. Yet they were different. The girl upstairs wasn't torn by hatred and sin.

The evil being loomed over her, feeding on her torment, one of its grotesque limbs rooted deep into her back, crawling deep into her soul. Breaking deeper into her psyche, the room dissappeared, the floor dissapating beneath unseen feet. She fell deeper into the black, silent abyss, the being never leaving her form as they fell together, its dark limbs surrounding her, and ironically shielding her from anything that would do her harm... or good.

She gave a breathless scream as she plunged into dark cold water, the liquid filling into her lungs. It dragged her down, just enough so her fingertips could touch the surface, teasing her with her only chance of life merely inches from her. Silent cries came from her form, lacking breath, lacking sound.

It was then that something caught her eye...

She held back a scream as she was shot out of her nightmare and her slumber. Putting a hand to her chest, she choked back a sob. The dreams were becoming more and more vivid, more chaotic, more horrific than ever before.

She had to leave. She had to get away...

"Father... Mother..."

He stood before the tombstone, running his hand across the snow covered top. "It's been awhile," Kohaku whispered, "Three years to be exact. I'm sorry for not visiting you sooner. I feel like I should've brought you some flowers or something, but it is the dead of winter, and besides, Sango thinks ripping off something's limb and giving it to you doesn't seem right."

"But the real reason I'm here, is..."

He paused. His eyes wandered around suspiciously. He couldn't take any chances. Sango would kill him if she found out he was out here at two in the morning. Especially since this evening she'd told him of Naraku. "I need you."

He tugged down the sleeve of his winter coat, revealing the light pink lines that had settled across his skin. Marks of anger, despression, guilt. It was only way he could forget, if only for a second. In that one moment, he only felt physical pain, and the emotional torment of his grief was gone. It was a regular process he'd expierienced constantly after his parents grief. He'd hurt, he'd cut, he'd forget. There was no real logic, only a split second of relief.

Only Rin had been able to tell him otherwise. He promised to stop cutting, she promised not to cry anymore.

He sighed, let his arm hang lifelessly at his side. "This... this is what been reduced to... this is what I've become..."

Sango watched him as he slumped down on the couch. Slowly closing the door, she sighed. From his eyes, it almost looked as if she was stalling.

"Kohaku," she said finally, "This isn't like you."

He didn't respond. Grabbing the first aid that rested on the coffee table, she said across from him on the couch. "'Kohaku, look at me."

He snapped his head towards her, crossing his arms across his chest, visibly wincing. She watched him carefully. "Kohaku, give me your arm," she said, reaching towards him.

He jerked back. "Don't."

"Kohaku, you've been in a fight, I need to clean up your wounds," she replied, "this is the third time you've been sent home this month. I know why. You're still upset about what happened."

"You say that as if I should be okay with it."

"Kohaku-"

"They saw the papers, Sango!" he snapped. "'We're the only ones who know the truth, we're the only ones who really saw. Yet they believe the lies they see in the newspapers!"

He turned towards his sister, expecting some sort of response from her. She was silent. He eyed her, suddenly noticing what she was looking at. Apparently while he was yelling, the sleeve of his shirt had hiked up to his elbow, revealing the red marks that had settled across arm, destroying his skin.

He didn't move, knowing it would be in vain if he tried to hide it now. Sango remained still, her arms hanging limply at her sides. Sighing, she stood up, hurrying towards the stairway, and dissappearing into one of the room.

The sound of a piano playing reached his ears. Despite the slow and sad melody of the song, she seemed to be playing it frantically, as if that alone could keep her together. She refused to let him see her cry.

It was in that moment he decided he never wanted to hear that song again.

But still, he couldn't stop himself...

He closed his eyes, trying to hold in the tears that threatened to spill. "I've gotten a lot taller now, my grades are doing well, and my art has gotten much better. I just... don't want to have to tell you this... I want you to see. I want to see you. My worst fear is that I'll forget what you look like."

He heard the soft sound of footsteps trudging through the snow behind him. "Sango."

"Kohaku," she replied, stopping beside him.

"You're not yelling at me for being out here?"

"No. That would make me a hypocryte."

He smiled.

"So she actually reported me to the police, hn?"

The voice chucked from the darkness of his chambers.

"I guess she hadn't learned yet."

I wanted to go deeper into Kohaku for this chapter, for reasons coming into the next couple of chapters. I wanted a sibling moment, a chapter of the family.

I've come to realize I changed a lot of things in this story. I usually write straight out of my own imagination (probably not one of the best ideas). I've also realized how Rurouni Kenshin-ish the plotline is. But everything else is far from anything I've read in the fanfiction world. Except Niamh. Her story has lots of lesson in values.

Preview of Next Chapter:

"Sango! Sango, you've got to get down here now!"

"Rin, calm down! What's wrong?"

"They're people here with guns. They took Kohaku."

Session Seventeen- Kohaku, Part One

And the next update may be a little late. I'm getting my computer upgraded... finally.

Posted 12/5/04

Lil'Lyn713