InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Edge of Resistance ❯ Our Manifest ( Chapter 1 )

The Edge of Resistance

Book One: The Dreaming World

 

 

Chapter 1: Our Manifest

 

 

“Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.” -Albert Einstein

 

***

 

It was almost midnight, but no clocks were expected to strike. Here, there were no ticks, gears, chimes or bells.

 

How do you begin to tell a story, when there is no beginning? Sometimes Kagome Higurashi wondered how she should tell her own story (which of course was impossible). How should she begin?

 

The sun shone, having no alternative, on the nothing new. ()

 

That one crept into her mind sometimes without warning, when she brushed her teeth or trimmed her nails or strained her ears to hear Inuyasha's breathing in the dark. She hated it. It was like the most compelling but most atrocious song ever written, that could lodge itself in one's mind for years. She could feel her rib cage on the verge of breaking with one terrific, unstoppable sob, until she forced it away by thinking of something else.

 

I was born.

 

Never mind the words, where in her life should she begin?

 

When Kagome tried to search for beginnings, if inclined to be at all gracious toward her fate, she would look back with unwavering vision to her fifteenth birthday, when she tumbled through an abandoned well and without warning found herself in another world, in another time.

 

In a hole in the ground, there lived a half-demon.

 

Years ago, while still in high school, Kagome learned that the imperial clergy recorded a total solar eclipse in the year 680 AD. The record showed an eclipse of the moon sixteen days later, followed by the death of the imperial priest on the next day. When the emperor took ill ten days after that, it was decided that, for the protection of the kingdom against any additional misfortune, one hundred persons would be made to enter religious duty as monks.

Power in the country changed many times in the following centuries, and descendents of those one hundred monks scattered over most of the country. One such descendent was a famous priestess who, by accounts historical and mythical, met her fate in a cave not far from present day Tokyo, centuries after the eclipse of 680.

 

So it was that if Kagome found she could not be so gracious, if she was exasperated by the interminable cycles of her memories, by the implacable trappings of her enemies, and the mercilessness drought of her friends, she would leap back over fifteen hundred years of twisted fate and curse the day the moon blocked the sun.

 

The sun shone, having no alternative, on the nothing new.

The useless ritual, intended to give her some sense of blamelessness, remained forever futile. Unable to give it up, she cursed her misfortune even as midnight came and went with so much as a whisper.

 

It was the beginning of yet another birthday, but she did not realize it yet. Kagome, shivering and panting in a dark and damp cavern beneath the roots of a great oak, mulled over her bitterness, realizing that the road that had led her here had been dry, dusty, and well trodden, that the great dark around her could have passed for any of a hundred nights in her life. She hid in the dark from the Saimyoushou, from the iron sickle of her best friend's brother. She huddled in the palpable blackness hoping, as she always did, that Inuyasha would find her. Once again, she relived the feeling that she had been through all of this before. This unsettling sensation of déjà vu had occurred with such intensity as of late that she often debated with herself whether one could ever know, for sure, that one was not dreaming.

With both grimy hands clamped over her knees, Kagome held her breath and strained her ears until she thought she could feel them growing. The buzzing of the Saimyoushou had vanished. A few more minutes passed before she could work up the courage to emerge from her hiding place and make a break for it. She decided, as she always did, to head in the general direction of Edo with all possible speed, and to trust— to hope— that Inuyasha would be able to smell her out once he had fought off Naraku.

She never considered the possibility that Inuyasha would fall to the disgusting demon, in the same way that she never once believed that Inuyasha would win (not anymore). Kagome no longer felt the tinniest shred of guilt for these private and gloomy thoughts, because they were based on experience so repetitious that she had as much right to believe them as she had to believe the sun would rise in the east.

But what about Kohaku?

No matter how many twists and turns Kagome took in the endless corridors of her mind, she could not flush out an answer, a way for Sango's ill-fated brother to be freed from Naraku and yet live. Even if they were successful in removing the hapless boy from Naraku's grasp, the fact remained that the sacred jewel shard embedded in his back was the only thing that stalled the claim of Death, and it would have to be removed. Though she knew this misfortune to be the source of Sango's suffering, Kagome was cold, wet, and miserable enough at that moment to feel just a little pity for herself. She could not suppress the disgust that her miserable fate stirred within her.

No sounds could be heard outside at all, not even night birds or insects. Unusual in most places, but not in a land tainted by Naraku's presence. Now was the time. She had to make a break for it.

“Damn it,” she muttered, emerging from her cover. “Where is he?”

---

The reader should note on the onset that our heroine did not make a habit of fleeing from even the most terrifying battles. The series of events were laid out thus:

 

During his ambition to become master of all wills Naraku had managed to make enemies of everyone he encountered, and several people had, like Kagome and her friends, tracked his scent of rotting death and corruption to the same place.

 

Years of searching had rendered little more than momentary skirmishes that accomplished nothing. For all the time, trouble, and suffering, all that came of it was more loss piled on old losses. Inuyasha and his friends had no choice but rely on clues that Naraku left behind in a paltry trail of crumbs. These hints were almost always nothing more than dark rumors, whispers among rustic villages of an unknown terror that lay in ambush in the night, in deep forests and cold caves, with power that severed bone and poison that crept under doors and into cradles.

 

This time, however, they had a direct link: the unmistakable traces of Naraku's own scent that Inuyasha could follow with his supernatural nose.

After four and a half days of tracking his trail through the mountains north of Edo, Inuyasha and his companions believed that they had trapped Naraku in the shadows of a narrow ravine. They were fortunate that they had found him away from his castle, the greatest concentration of his power.

 

Alas, Naraku was no mouse. It should never be assumed that he is ensnared by any misstep or miscalculation on his part. It is quite possible that our valiant friends knew this even as they closed in around him, but they could not keep themselves off the torture wheel of old habits.

His first move was all he intended and all he needed.

Kohaku, who had grown quite strong in the years of his slavery, leapt forward from behind his master without word or warning. He snatched Kagome by the waist and bounded off with her into the forest, like a fox with a rabbit in its teeth.

Inuyasha did not have time to react. Within seconds, the air became a screen of inky putrefaction. Sango and Miroku were forced to take to the sky on Kirara's back. Inuyasha's lungs were in no immediate danger but his senses were overwhelmed.

 

With a shuddering effort—while Sango and Miroku strained to peer into the blackness, and in the woods Kagome had escaped from Kohaku only moments before—Inuyasha made the best guess he could regarding Naraku's location and heaved his sword above his head, unleashing his weapon's most powerful attack.

It was clear that the attack did not hit Naraku, but it did weaken and dispel most of the miasma, allowing Sango and Miroku, wearing masks, to descend.

It was at this moment that Kikyou arrived, pulled by the sense of her enemy and by her own inescapable fate. Immune to the toxic air, she surveyed the scene in an instant, noting the absence of Kagome and registering the bitterness of inevitability.

“Kikyou,” Naraku almost purred, “you have come. I knew you would.”

Inuyasha gave only the briefest of glances in the direction of his old lover. He was too consumed with hatred and too intent on locating the source of that loathsome voice.

 

“Why don't you go ahead and get your good-byes out of the way, Naraku,” he shouted. “While you still have a chance!”

The response was only the customary, bodiless chuckle, a sound they all knew as well as rain. Naraku towered over them, hoisted on his ruinous body of tentacles and rotting demon flesh.

 

“So hasty,” the enemy leered. “There are others expected at our happy reunion. Do you not want to wait until they arrive?”

“I don't know what you're going on about,” Inuyasha grated through gnashed teeth, “and I don't care. Today is the day I take care of you once and for all!”

Just as Kagome never doubted the inevitability of these encounters, Inuyasha never seemed to recognize his own role in the cycles. He was sure he knew where to strike this time. He would hit him now. Inuyasha raised his sword again.

Naraku's laugh fell like ice on the shoulders. It was the mirth of someone who knew the trick was accomplished before others even saw it. Inuyasha remembered Kohaku and wondered again if the boy was truly capable of murdering Kagome. Sango and Miroku planted their feet apart on the ground with stoic determination, but their expressions betrayed their dread. Naraku continued to mock them.

“Fools,” he spat. “It took nothing to lure you here. You are my puppets! As much so as that witless boy! And now that your precious little priestess is dead, all your hope is gone!”

 

“Kikyou,” he turned to the undead woman who was already leveling her arrow at his chest. “You will not be able to substitute for her. No amount of black magic will make you live again.”

Miroku, Sango, and Shippou stood frozen with fear, trying so hard to appear imperturbable for Inuyasha's sake, for each other's sake, yet somewhere hidden in their hearts not believing that anything was truly happening.

 

Because nothing ever truly happened.

“Now,” the monster continued to gloat, “another party has arrived. He will make short work of them both, if they still live. I am sure of it.”

Inuyasha had started to turn around, to sprint in the direction that Kagome had been taken, but then he thought better of it. Kagome could take care of herself, marginally anyway. And even if she could not—if she were already dead—nothing could be done about it now. He must not let Naraku escape.

 

Anyway, it was easy for him to disregard the gloating of Naraku, the lord of lies and master of deceit.

 

And besides, nothing ever truly happens.

“Another demon is approaching,” Kikyou said, as if guessing his thoughts. She was standing close to him now, so close it startled him. “A powerful one.”

“Well, Naraku,” Inuyasha said with a display of resignation, “it seems the only real choice now is to kill you.”

In his head, Inuyasha could hear his words tumble from his mouth and had the unsettling impression of being pulled by invisible strings. Though he already knew the ending, Inuyasha unleashed his sword a second time.

But in that instant, in a haze of swirling miasma and hollow laughter, Naraku pulled away and made his exit with all the ease with which he appeared. The air aided him as it pulled away from the collection of enemies like a vacuum, stealing breath and leaving only a cavern of silence.

To his credit, Inuyasha did not waste a moment cursing the very thing that had happened a hundred times before, nor questioning Kikyou or wondering why the priestess was here. He assumed that everything she did was to further her single-minded goal of Naraku's death. He turned to dash into the woods, leaving Kikyou standing in the ravine. Already racing into the forest, he started to turn back to call to Kikyou, thinking that he should not leave her alone. But she was already gone.

 

He would kill him this time.

 

Inuyasha knew that this would deliver yet another sick thrill to his enemy. Although he was loath to carry out Naraku's wishes, this Kohaku situation had gone on long enough. The boy made repeated appearances in Naraku's schemes as the decoy, ever the impenetrable dilemma, the escape plan. Naraku knew that they were unwilling to kill Sango's luckless brother and he was laughing at them for it. Enough was enough.

If Kagome was hurt—his habitual way of thinking preventing Inuyasha from considering “dead” with any real seriousness—Kohaku would have to pay for it with his own blood, brainwashed or not.

 

He darted among the trees with the careful and careless leaps of a deer.

---

It was all too easy to understand the implied threat of Naraku's parting words. Sango could see straight away that the devil intended to make Kohaku kill Kagome. There might have been someone else out there who could do harm to them, but that did not matter. If Kohaku killed or even hurt Kagome, there would be no way to stop Inuyasha from extracting revenge. In truth, she was not sure she would even try.

It was true that the boy was under the complete control of Naraku. What was more, he had no memory left to him of his former life, so he could not be expected to owe her any allegiance. Nonetheless, it remained that Kohaku's hands were stained with the blood of many innocents, many atrocities. What forgiveness could he ever hope for, if he even knew hope at all? What point was there in keeping him alive?

 

Sango's thoughts spiraled downward into a familiar pattern. What point was there left in anything? They would both be better off…

A sudden swell of a confused haze of déja vu overcame her train of thought. It smothered her mind like black oil. Soaring through the hot night air on Kirara's back with the familiar presence of Miroku behind her, she fumbled with the feeling and tried to sort it out. Then she remembered something.

“Miroku,” Sango's voice was tense, “can you sense anything? Do you have any idea who Naraku was talking about?”

The two of them were riding Kirara about thirty feet above the treetops, trying to keep up with Inuyasha. Miroku's arms held tight her waist, the only situation where she would tolerate such closeness and not suspect lechery. He closed his eyes for a moment.

“No,” he said. “I sense a very powerful presence, as powerful as Naraku, or almost. But I'm not sure who it is. Maybe it's just another detachment.”

“I don't think so,” Sango answered after a moment of consideration. “No single detachment of Naraku's is ever that powerful.”

“You're right,” he raised his voice over the howling wind while they sped over the meadows. “I guess we'll find out soon enough, one way or another.”

They were quiet for a moment. Then Miroku cleared his throat. Sango could feel that he wanted to ask or say something, something that made him uncomfortable. But at that moment, she saw Inuyasha. She could see that he was standing with Kagome, but she could not make out much more through the blackness of the trees. Was Kohaku hidden in the shadows? Was he already dead?

“Look!” she pointed toward Inuyasha. “There they are.”

 

Miroku could discern the half-demon by his red kimono, distinct in the full moon, like a shell of blood.

“Sango,” Miroku held on tighter for a split second, “what if…?”

She ignored him and had Kirara land a few feet from the unfolding scene.

---

By the time of Naraku's departure, Kagome had already managed to escape from Kohaku, evading his attempt to impale her on his weapon almost as soon as they came into the dark cover of the trees. She hid herself in the closing dark under the great tree as long as she dared, and then emerged.

She did not get far. The Saimyoushou had departed but Kohaku remained, waiting in the shadows. She did not see him at first, but sensed his jewel shard and whirled in time to find that he was shockingly close to her, raising his kusarikama. Panicking, she leapt away and fumbled for her own weapon.

 

There are few words to describe the tearing agony of Kagome's heart. She stared into the boy's eyes and saw only the desolation of death. Despite his prowess, he was still just a boy, and no match for her arrows.

 

“Inuyasha!” she cried out, hoping to save herself from a fate almost worse than death. Kagome bit her lip to keep from crying.

 

From this, there will be no expiation.

 

Kagome drew her bow and aimed at the chest of the boy who stood in its crosshairs without caring.

Someone was closing in and for only a second Kagome had a small hope that it was Inuyasha, coming to her aid at last. However, she realized that the demonic aura that prickled her skin was far too great. Even the listless boy began darting his dead eyes about, searching for the demonic presence to emerge, for the power to show itself. Then she saw him.

“Oh shit.”

She had forgotten how fast he could move. It had been many months since she last saw him, an endless amount of time. There he was in a flash of light, standing between her and her would be killer-victim in perfect clarity.

“I know I can always expect the warmest greetings, Priestess,” he said in a flat tone, without bothering to look at her.

“Wh—what…?” she stammered, and then scrambled to gather her thoughts and focus on the new threat (and also to appear a little more dignified).

 

“Sesshoumaru, what are you doing here?” she demanded. “What do you want?”

Sesshoumaru ignored the question, and Kagome noted with irritation that she might have expected as such. The perilous dog demon faced Kohaku. The boy, in his soulless state, did not even have the presence of mind to flinch.

Kagome screamed for Kohaku to run, knowing before she did so that it was useless.

“Where is your master?” Sesshoumaru demanded.

 

Kohaku's answer was a blank stare.

“Boy,” the demon's voice was level but threatening. “I weary of your mindlessness.”

 

Then Sesshoumaru raised his hand, flexing his claws.

Kagome cried out again, conscious of her small, high-pitched voice.

 

“Sesshoumaru! Don't! I'm begging you not to do it!”

Sesshoumaru took two steps toward the hapless adolescent, who in turn raised his kusarikama.

A sudden relief washed over Kagome when she realized that she would not have to be the one to kill Kohaku. The feeling was cut short by the subsequent scorch of guilt that withered her insides.

“What the hell?” a familiar voice rang out behind her. “Sesshoumaru! What the hell do you think you're doing?”

Inuyasha shot into the scene like a bright flare. He gave Kohaku a smart rap to the right temple and the boy fell to the ground like a sack of rice. Inuyasha turned to face his half-brother.

“Inuyasha!” Kagome exclaimed “Thank goodness you're all right. You have to stop him. He was going to kill—”

 

A burst of energetic air in the clearing cut her off. The wind sorceress Kagura appeared as if out of nowhere and came between Sesshoumaru and the boy. Her look was one of someone delighted at her own cleverness and, for a split second, Kagome thought she looked at Sesshoumaru with undisguised greed.

“Sorry kids,” she said in an easy, even familiar tone, “but I'm going to have to break up this little party.”

Sesshoumaru did not react, but regarded her with a cold stare. Kagura pulled the boy onto the feather, and Kohaku let himself be moved like a doll. They did not fly away at first. Instead, she stayed hovering only a short distance in front of Sesshoumaru, with one brazen and bare foot still on the ground.

“Well?” she asked, looking him in the eyes with a pert expression. A challenge of some sort hung in the air, but neither Kagome nor her friends understood it.

Sesshoumaru remained motionless for a moment, but then gave a barely perceptible shrug and turned away. Kagura's look was triumphant. She rose higher in the air and looked at Kagome and Inuyasha.

 

“I hope you're not going to give up now, that would be so boring,” she said with exaggerated petulance.

“Feh!” Inuyasha spat, “you should be so lucky!”

 

Kagura only laughed, lifting her vessel without effort.

“Kagura, wait!” Sango cried out.

 

Kagura appeared startled, but she hesitated.

 

The demon slayer went on. “I don't understand. I thought Naraku wanted Kohaku dead. He as much said so himself.”

Kagura's look was direct. “It is useless to try to understand that one,” she answered, voice dripping with contempt. “Besides, the Saimyoushou are not here. I'll just tell him that the boy got away on his own and I found him wandering in the wild.”

The implications of that statement shocked Kagome and her friends. Sango gaped at the demoness and could say nothing as she watched Kagura flew away into the velvet night sky. The she cupped her hands in front of her mouth, lowered her head, and sank to her knees.

Miroku wanted to comfort his comrade. He wanted to place an arm around her shoulders and stay there until she stopped crying. In that moment, Miroku would have traded his soul to offer the only woman he had every known any real comfort. But he was hindered by the fear in his heart and by the dream he had constructed of himself. He could not reach out through the steel encasing of his joints.

Sango had waded through the black oil of her strange thoughts, and now she recognized the truth without any doubts. Kagome was convinced, realizing now that she had been all along. Kikyou felt it even as she wrapped herself in her own solitude before the coming of dawn. Kagura could not escape it as she flew back to her prison, lifting all her loathing and contempt into the air by sheer will. Miroku knew it as he watched the familiar disintegration in Sango's eyes.

They had done all this before.

 

The sun shone, having no alternative, on the nothing new.

 

 

***

 

[End of Chapter 1]

[Next chapter: Our Elixirs]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Samuel Beckett, Murphy