InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Journey Home ❯ The Great Beyond ( Chapter 1 )

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

By: Pariah

Kagome Higurashi was dead. At least, she thought she was. That's what the strange silver dog told her, anyway. [AU] [Inu/Kag]

Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Drama / Adventure / Supernatural | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 07.18.2016 | Pages: 51 | Words: 19.9K | Visits: 710 | Status: Work In Progress

Kagome Higurashi was dead. At least, she thought she was. She couldn't remember dying. She couldn't remember much of anything, really, other than a vague sense of urgency, a pressing need to find something. Or someone. She couldn't remember. But she knew she was dead, she had to be dead. There was no other explanation for the place—or the non-place—in which she found herself, everything off-white and foggy and inert.

Wherever she looked, on all sides, there was nothing but thick, pervasive, off-white fog. What an obnoxious color, off-white. Like rancid mayonnaise, or dirty socks. And what was the deal with the fog? She couldn't make out any landscape, or color, not even a distinction between light and shadow. It was like diving into a giant, off-white can of paint—every spot her eyes landed upon lacked variation from the rest—except even paint had some characteristics, like scent and texture. This place had none of that, though she had the impression that if she could feel here, it would be humid and heavy.

As she stood turning in place, trying to spot some break in the fog, she thought she heard the faint rhythms of a human voice. A low drone at first, from no particular direction, and then slowly the sound came nearer. It surged, and a broad figure emerged through the fog to her left. In three long strides it came to a stop precisely in front of her. It didn't move.

“Well, you see,” it said in a startlingly deep, measured voice, “red really isn't the color of blood anymore, and there's a hole in the system that I might be able to crawl through if only it wasn't made of glue—from the ozone, you know—and pretty soon the apodichthys flavidus is going to migrate to the atmosphere because they keep mistaking blue for water, which is really just proof that Nietzsche was correct.”

Kagome stared. “Uh…”

The large, hulking man in front of her—who, she noted, quite effectively blocked her path—ran a hand through his long black hair in a jerking motion so violent it should have sent him toppling over backwards. Then his hand trailed down his jaw, rubbing three-day-stubble, before he made a jerking motion with his head that only his shoulders followed. The rest of him stayed firmly and rebelliously rooted to the spot, so that even his body looked off-balance when he muttered, “No, no, direction is the cause, not the effect, and there can only be potentiality because actuality would make us all explode into millions of jigsaw pieces that would rust with scorn the moment we tried to paint with them.”

The girl thought she saw a spasmodic twitch at the corner of the man's mouth. “Um, hi. W-who are you?”

The man's eyes—a bright, near-glowing red—were at once both focused and spastic, intently studying the girl but darting all over her body as though uncertain of what to examine first. She tried not to fidget.

“Do you, er… I mean, is there anyone else around?” She leaned to the side of the man in front of her, as if hoping to find someone hiding behind his broad frame. But she should have known better—nothing but fog.

“Are you trying to fly?” the man asked her, leaning forward and narrowing his scarlet-red eyes. “Because you'd need oxygen for that.”

“Uh, no. I just want to know where I am. I mean, I'm…” the girl paused, swallowed, said, “dead. I'm dead, right?”

The man stared, and slowly started to smile. The girl didn't think a smile had ever been so creepy. “A-ha!” the man said, “I figured it out. You're Walt Whitman!”

“Wha—”

“Your theories on quantum entanglement needed some revision.”

“I am not Walt Whitman! I'm… I'm.” She should've known this, she knew she should've known this, but all she could think about was off-white. Stop floundering, she thought to herself, stop. Tell him your name. Say it. “Uh. I'm Kae—no, no, Sango. No! Sorry, it's Kikyo. Yes, Kikyo.”

“Actually, your name was Kagome,” said a voice from behind her. She spun around and came thigh to face with a silver—silver? silver!—husky.

She blinked. Looked back over her shoulder. The man was still there, standing with his legs apart, hair flopping over his forehead, eyes fixed on the dog.

The girl followed the man's gaze back to the dog. It was a large animal, the top of its head level with her waist, with thick layers of pure, gleaming silver fur. And it was staring at her with unnerving intelligence.

“Did you… just talk?”

The husky probably would've raised his eyebrow if he had one. “Sure did.”

“A-Are you...”

“Real?”

The girl nodded.

“Sometimes.”

“But… how could—”

“I don't always run around as a dog.”

“Huh.”

“I was sent here to give you some navigational guidance. I'm Inuyasha.”

“Inuyasha. Let me get this straight…”

The dog shifted his weight and began scratching behind his ear. “You can get straight later. We have a lot of ground to cover. Do you know why you're here?”

“Uh. I'm dead, right?”

“Bingo.”

A beat passed. The girl was hyperaware of her own breath. At least, it felt like breath. “So, dead. Like… dead, dead?”

“There are no degrees of death. When you're dead you're dead.”

“Wait.”

The dog simply sat, staring at her, a dog and not a dog at the same time. “You were human: you lived, you died, and now you're here. We'll go over the specifics later.”

Funny, she thought, I'm dead and I'm still breathing. She opened her mouth. Words wouldn't come. Instead, she pointed at her own chest and heaved.

“Oh, that,” said the dog, “Technically you're not actually breathing. That would require oxygen. And a set of physical lungs, I guess. You're mimicking—it's the same reason you appear human now. You're so used to having a physical body that you mimic its habits even after you've departed. Like an afterimage that your soul holds onto. It'll wear off eventually.”

“Wear… off. What does that mean, exactly?”

“We can talk about it later. We've got more important things to do.”

Yes, she knew that, didn't she? She needed to find something. “Okay. Can you tell me how I died?”

“I told you, specifics later. You wouldn't be able to understand half of it, anyway. Right now you need to concentrate on getting past him.” Inuyasha nodded towards the hulking man behind the girl (a decidedly strange gesture for a dog, she thought).

The girl angled her head to better see the man behind her, who had started pacing frenetically. Four steps in one direction, pivot, four steps in the other, pivot, four steps…

“Who is that?” Kagome asked. She could've sworn she heard Inuyasha—the dog—sigh deeply. She turned her head to meet level, golden eyes—gold eyes surrounded by silver fur—and she didn't think she'd get used to seeing a dog with human expression.

“He was human once, too. He wouldn't listen to me, either, when he first arrived, and now he's reduced to pure knowledge. Knowledge without bounds. Poor bastard.”

The girl blinked. “You're telling me this guy is knowledge?”

“Yes and no.”

When the girl only stared, the dog clarified, “Think of him as a human stripped of every human quality but bare knowledge. Then remove him from the context that predicated that knowledge to begin with.”

“I still don't get it.”

“Of course you don't. You're human.”

The girl rolled her eyes and then wondered if that was mimicry, too. “What's the use of a talking guide dog that doesn't explain anything?”

Inuyasha bared his teeth in a dog-smile. “Think about it, girl. I'm sure you've noticed by now that this place is as nondescript as it gets. Death isn't limited by time and space like life is. It's without context. What happens to knowledge without context?”

“You're asking me?”

“A dog can hope.”

The girl was brought up short at this return, mostly because she didn't know dogs could hope.

At her silence, one of the dog's ears twitched, his lip curled. “He wouldn't listen to me. He wouldn't accept his death. He tried to stay human here, tried to be immortal; he clung to his human knowledge for guidance, but that knowledge didn't exist in a bounded world anymore. Knowledge without bounds is insanity.”

The girl considered that for a moment. “So… that's why there's nothing here? No shape or color or… anything? No context?”

“Bingo. Give the girl a prize.”

“And… why do I have to `get past' him, exactly?”

“You don't have to, but if you choose to stay here, you'll become exactly as he is.”

The girl couldn't help but focus on the man's pacing, four steps, pivot, four steps, pivot. The very precision of his movements made him seem disjointed, someone struggling for exactness in a realm defined by its opposite. Something about that determined indirection—the concerted motion with no progress—chilled the girl, made her want to move. “Can you tell me why?”

“I just did. You can't be dead and refuse to die. If you don't accept this, you'll condemn yourself to limbo. That,” he nodded towards the man, “is what happens when you cling to finite human knowledge after you've shed your humanity—when you try to be immortal.”

Find it, something inside the girl seemed to say, find it. Move. “But I already know I'm dead. What else do you want me to do?”

“Knowing and accepting are two different things.”

“So getting past this guy will, what? Lead me to acceptance?”

The dog sighed again, and it was just as strange the second time. “No. And acceptance isn't all that's required. It's just the beginning.”

The girl's dead brain was beginning to ache. She rubbed her eyes with her fingers. “This is confusing.”

Inuyasha made a sound somewhere between a growl and a bark. “Like I said, you can figure it out later. You'll have to. But right now I need you to focus.”

“On what?”

“The task at hand.”

“What am I supposed to do, exactly?”

The dog tilted his head.

The girl waited.

And waited.

His tail began to tap.

“You're… not going to tell me, are you?”

He stared at her.

“I hate you.”

Tap, tap, tap.

Well, the girl thought, I'm already dead. She faced the pacing man. Find it find it. With one pause for the solace of a few seconds' hesitation, she sighed, threw back her shoulders, cleared her throat, and said with just a tiny hitch in her voice, “Hey.”

The man continued to pace.

“Excuse me? Can I have a second?”

More pacing.

The girl slid a perturbed glance at the dog. He only made that half-growl-half-bark noise and wagged his tail twice.

No help from that quarter. The girl shook her head and tried again. “Listen. I know you're, like, a tortured mind and everything, and I'm really sorry about that, but this dog here says you're the guy I need to talk to. So I'd appreciate it if you'd, you know, stop for a second.”

Four steps—pivot—four steps—pivot—four steps—pivot.

The girl's shoulders drooped.

The dog barked once, a sharply articulated sound.

The man slowed, stood still. No, not exactly still—every one of his muscles seemed to be quivering in place, moving as quickly as his mind. The man shifted, faced the girl like a drill sergeant, legs planted apart, arms hanging straight at his sides. He seemed to be twice as bulky as before, possessor of girth made menacing by lunacy.

“Uh, thanks,” the girl said.

The man's eyebrows collapsed in a frown. He stepped forward and held out his hand.

The girl looked at the dog. Back at the man. Somehow this mundane gesture was the strangest one she'd seen. Slowly, she responded in kind. Unexpectedly cold fingers clasped hers, squeezing in an assessing, almost exploratory manner, as though they had never touched another person before. Kagome bemusedly noticed the tiny discolored scar at the base of the man's thumb, shaped like a spider.

“It's, uh, good to meet you,” the girl mumbled, a little nonplussed by the whole transaction. “I'm, ah, Kik—” the dog growled loudly and the girl backpedaled, “Kagome! Right, I'm Kagome.”

“Best keep that in mind, girl,” Inuyasha grumbled from beside her. “It's important.”

The girl's response was abruptly cut off by a sharp tug on her right arm. The man was inspecting her palm, eyeing it from only a few inches distance, nose practically touching her skin. “Epidermis…” he said. “Light. Pink.”

“O-kay,” the girl said. “This just got way beyond weird.”

“Focus,” said the dog, “get him to focus on you.”

“I think he's already focusing a little too much on me.”

“He's not paying attention to you, he's paying attention to the sum of your parts. Get him to look at you, really look at you, and we can start making some progress.”

The girl was beginning to wonder if the dog knew what he was doing. He was a dog. She tentatively tugged at her hand, hoping that the man would take the hint and let go.

This did not have the desired effect. The man started slowly turning Kagome's hand from side to side, muttering about seams and transparency and locomotion. He started lifting and examining each finger individually.

“Seriously, this is getting creepy. Are you listening to me?”

“Affirmative,” the man mumbled, still eyeing her fingers.

“Could you maybe let go of my hand now? No? Okay. Well. I'm Ki—Kagome. I'm Kagome. What's your name?”

The girl was expecting another diatribe—not a halt in the inspection of her hand, not the release of her arm, not the way the man slowly looked up at her face, eyes intent and focused as they hadn't been before. Even though the man's limbs were stationary, his muscles continued to move underneath the skin: cheeks, jaws, forehead all twitching, trembling, never still. His eyes reflected the same restlessness as they peered down at the girl, and she suddenly felt very small.

“I... the I,” said the man, “inconsequential misnomer of the homo sapiens.”

“Uh…”

“I don't know,” the man said as he retreated a step, putting distance between them, for which Kagome was grateful. “I can't retain, my name is a misnomer, I don't remember.” The man backed up several more steps, eyes darting around as though trying to identify his surroundings, as though he had surroundings, and not endless off-white fog encroaching on the brain.

“I don't know, don't remember, which category was it?”

Finally, his gaze settled on Inuyasha, sitting next to the girl with a decidedly un-dog-like expression. For an instant his face changed, became something else, clouded and thunderous, ferocity collecting like darkness. Kagome's tongue was on the verge of forming some word of warning, but then the man's expression cleared as suddenly as it had darkened, replaced with that same restless precision. He stared at the dog. The dog stared back. He nodded, turned away, and began pacing again, four steps, pivot, four steps, pivot.

The girl looked at Inuyasha. He was inordinately pleased with himself, if his dog-grin meant anything.

“What does that mean?” she asked.

“That, girl, means we can move forward.”

Kagome eyed the pacing man, whose mass seemed to have diminished somehow, less looming than before. “What, was he like the gatekeeper or something?”

“No.”

“Then why the big deal about `getting past' him? Why'd I need to get his attention?”

“A couple reasons, really,” said the dog as he stood and began stretching his legs. “First, you need to learn to take direction if we're ever going to get anywhere. I thought I'd take the opportunity to see how well you listen.”

Before Kagome could get in a good splutter, Inuyasha continued, “Second, I've been trying to reach Onigumo for longer than he or I care to remember. Never hurts to take a chance and see if someone else can succeed where I've failed.”

This gave the girl pause. She almost felt flattered. “Did—d'you think it worked?”

Inuyasha paused to consider this, then shook his head, silver ears twitching. “I think it will be awhile yet. But you did pass the obedience test. Good girl.”

“Shut up.”

“And now we finally move forward.”

Something in her tensed, coiled. Yes, move, find it, move. Even still, the girl couldn't help pointing out, “Don't know if you've noticed this, Inuyasha, but there's nowhere to go. Unless all this fog is hiding something.”

The dog—Inuyasha, Inuyasha, she reminded herself, remember his name—began moving through the fog at a trot, forcing the girl to follow. “Stupid. You don't listen very well, do you? I told you, we aren't in the bounded realm. There's `nowhere to go' because we don't move through time or space.”

“Then how are we going to `move forward'?”

The girl got the impression that the dog was rolling his eyes when he said, “Humans. They take everything so literally.”

“Hey—”

“Keep up or I'll let you flounder in the fog for a few centuries.”

And then everything seemed to suddenly close in, fog becoming solid becoming heavy becoming mobile. Everything pressing in on her, off-white and out of focus.

“Inuyasha?” A tinge of worry in her voice.

“Just follow me. Everything will be all right.”

She couldn't believe she was listening to a damn dog.

_____________________________

“This is boring.”

“Pardon me for not making death more entertaining.”

Kagome couldn't think of anything to say to that.

They were walking—or floating, or phasing, or mimicking, she didn't really know which—through endless off-white. It was like being on a treadmill that had no off-switch, constant motion with no discernible progress.

“So, guide dog… where are we going?”

A growl. Silence that crackled with pent irritation.

“You're not lost, are you?”

That one earned a snarl, and the girl started to perk up a little.

“Bitch, you're lucky I'm patient. Don't push it.”

Bitch? That was a new one. “Right. Lucky. I'm just, you know, dead. And wandering aimlessly through the afterlife with a guide dog that doesn't know where he's going.”

“Is that a request? Because I could lose you right now, and then you'd know the real meaning of aimless wandering.”

Better and better, the girl thought. “So what's stopping you?”

A pause. “Lots of things. My boss, for one.”

That shut her up for all of five seconds. “You have a boss? Who is it? God?”

“If you're lucky, you'll never find out.”

The seriousness in his tone was rather disconcerting. “Why?”

His lip curled. “My boss is not to be taken lightly. You're deathly experience will be so much pleasanter if you only have to deal with me.”

The girl eyed him dubiously, but he was too busy trotting to notice. “So then, what are you exactly? I mean, what's your position?” The dog slowed and looked at her quizzically. “I mean,” the girl continued, “like, what's your job description?”

“It's complicated.”

“So dumb it down.”

“Babysitter.”

It took the girl several non-seconds to get it. “Hey!”

“You asked.”

“I was sort of hoping for a real answer.”

There was that dog-grin again. “That was a real answer. I don't have a `job' in the way humans understand that term. I have responsibilities, and there are authorities I'm subordinate to—because I choose to be, not because of some arbitrary hierarchy—but it's not exactly a job.”

“So what is it, then?”

“It's just what I do. Why I'm here. I help Departed ones find their way.”

The girl wondered if she should've found this stranger. “Huh. So dogs are the guardians of the afterlife?”

“I told you, I'm not always a dog.”

“Then why…?”

Inuyasha looked at her again, assessing, weighing. She almost felt his gaze like a physical touch. “You probably don't remember this,” he said, “but I'm currently in the form of your past pet—with a couple alterations. It's standard procedure to appear before the Departed in a form they might recognize from life. Makes things a little easier.”

The girl stopped. Inuyasha was already sitting and staring at her, as though he'd anticipated this reaction.

“I… had a pet?” Kagome asked.

The dog nodded.

“I had a pet.”

“You didn't recognize me at all?”

Kagome shook her head. Inuyasha looked grim, and that inside-part of her tensed. Move move move, it said.

“This could be good or bad,” the dog said. “For some, death is easier with no ties to life. No memory, no anchor. It's easier to let go. But for others, that can be a hindrance. They can't come to terms without memory.”

“So, what does that mean for me?”

“Only you can decide that." A pause. "Kagome.”

“Hm?”

“What's my name?”

She blinked. “Inuyasha.”

“Good. And yours?”

“Kagome.”

Inuyasha looked pleased. “Good. Don't forget that. Keep reminding yourself. You have to hold onto your name. It's important.”

Kagome nodded. Inuyasha stood and tilted his head at her. "Let's get going, then," he said.

They resumed walking. Several long moments of silence, and then—

"You're still lost, aren't you?"

"Shut up."

_____________________________

"I spy with my little eye..."

A gusty sigh.

"Something that is..."

Golden eyes rolled. "Foggy?"

The girl shook her head. "Nope. Something that's fluffy."

"Fog?"

"You already said that! And no."

"Fog can be fluffy."

"No."

"Fine, fine. Your hair?"

"What?" Kagome fingered a strand of dark hair hanging over her shoulder. "My hair isn't fluffy!"

"It ain't exactly sleek."

Her lips pursed, and she muttered, "It's wavy, not fluffy."

Another sigh, this one decidedly exasperated. "If you want to get technical about it, your hair doesn't even exist."

Well. The dog made a good point. Kagome huffed. "Forget it, I'm picking something new."

"Don't bother, I didn't even want to play the game in the first—"

"I spy with my little eye..."

"Stop."

"Something that is..."

The noise that issued from Inuyasha's throat was much more growl than sigh.

"Green."

The dog didn't even do her the courtesy of thinking about it. "Your skirt."

"... yes."

"There, I win. That means we stop—"

"I spy with my little eye—"

"I'm going to smite you."

"Something that is grumpy."

A sidelong golden glance in her direction. "Firstly, rude. Secondly, that's not a color."

"Nothing here is a color. I have to get creative."

"How about you get quiet?"

"Wet blanket."

"Chatterbox."

"Mutt."

"... you know you're setting yourself up for the B-word, right?"

"... shut up."

"I will if you will."

Kagome stuck her tongue out at the dog trotting beside her. "Just because I'm dead doesn't mean I have to be bored, too. I'm just trying to stay entertained while we wander around in circles in the great beyond."

The look Inuyasha shot her was duly offended. "We're not going in circles. And for your information, it's your fault that we're still here."

The girl's eyebrows rose. "How do you figure? You're supposed to be the guide dog."

"Yeah, but I don't have much to work with, here." There was an unmistakable sulkiness in his voice. "You arrived with no memory of your former life. If you had, we could've settled things immediately—I'd have given you the spiel and let you make your choice. But you didn't, I can't, and you won't be able to make your choice until you've remembered."

"What do my memories have to do with anything? Just tell me the spiel and we'll get it over with."

Inuyasha actually stopped walking and turned to face her. She took several steps ahead before realizing he'd stopped, and, surprised, she turned back towards him.

"Are you saying," he said, slowly and cautiously, "that you're willing to move on—to accept death, give up your selfhood as you know it—without the memories of your life? You're willing to go now, as you are?" A pause. "You can, you know. Many Departed do. I just didn't think you would. I can sense it in you. The void of your memory is like an anchor tied around your neck: tying you down to your earthly life. Destroying that void can release the ties."

Kagome could only stare at him.

"But was I wrong?" he prodded, all former teasing and annoyance vanished, replaced with a solemn canine scrutiny and a gentleness that surprised her. "Are you ready to move on now?"

"I..."

Her entire being constricted. A thrumming, quivering panic filled her, made her (non)lungs feel winded.

No. Find it. Move. Find it.

She slowly shook her head. "I don't... think so."

Inuyasha's eyes were steady and intent and bright against the silver gleam of his fur. "You sure?"

Find it find it.

"I'm..." She hesitated. "I feel like I need to... find something first."

Inuyasha leaned forward almost imperceptibly, eyes unwavering. "Find what?"

Kagome paused, focused her attention inward. That inner urgency was there, the desire to seek something. But when she probed it, poked at it, it remained unyielding. She felt its pulsing insistence, but couldn't corral it towards any purpose, any object.

And for the first time, she felt her bankrupt memory as a loss.

She shook her head at the dog. "I don't know."

He watched her for a moment longer, and she absently realized that it was becoming less and less strange to see the preternatural intelligence staring at her from his dog's face.

"Well," he finally said, "we'd better find out, then."

Without further ado, he started trotting forward at a quick pace. Kagome almost had to jog to keep up.

A beat passed.

“I spy with my little eye—”

“Oi.”

“Something that is—”

“Loud?”

“Hairy.”

“Oh, har har. What're you gonna do next, make a slobber joke?”

"I was actually planning a good flea zinger.”

He released a soft whuff—the canine equivalent of a tsk, she supposed—and said, “Sloppy. Hope you can do better than that.”

“You'll have to wait and see.” Peering ahead into the fog, she sing-songed, “I spy with my little eye, something that is—”

“Begging for heavenly rebuke?”

“—green.”

Inuyasha threw a glance at her. “You already used that one. Slacking already?”

The girl stopped and pointed down. “Green.”

The dog halted and followed her gaze. One of his ears flicked. “Oh. Green.”

Below them, grass was growing in sparse patches, tiny green spears shooting up from the off-white nothingness around them. Dog and girl glanced at each other; then in unspoken agreement, they both started forward, following the trail of green into the fog.

The grass became progressively thicker and taller as they went. Soon it was up to Kagome's knees and Inuyasha's chest. Kagome glanced around, hoping to see other signs of life, of more than a fog-landscape. Nothing. Just this grass stretching into the distance.

“What is this, Inuyasha?”

He kept his gaze forward. “This,” he said, “means we're close.”

“Close to what?”

He didn't answer. Instead, he sped up to a trot, which quickly turned to a jog, which then became a full bore run.

"Hey!" She broke into a sprint after him, keeping her eyes fixed on the silver head parting the tall grass in front of her. "Wait up!"

They ran. And ran. The grass was seemingly never-ending, waves of rippling green in every direction. It now reached Kagome's waist, and was level with Inuyasha's head. She could only see his ears poking up as he darted through it.

And then she lost sight of him completely. In the span of a blink he'd disappeared, swallowed by green. She could still see the short trail of parted grass in his wake, but even that was getting fainter as he got farther and farther ahead.

"Wait!" she cried, trying to speed up. "Inuyasha!"

She couldn't see him, couldn't hear him.

"What kind of guide dog are you? Wait!"

Nothing but the whispering rustle of grass.

This was almost worse than the fog.

Her pace began to slacken, slowing until she came to a total standstill. She swiveled her head around, looking for any signs of silver.

"Hey! Inuyasha!" Silence. She huffed. "Where are you, you stupid dog?!"

"No need to get snippy," came his voice, distant and vaguely muffled. "I knew where you were the whole time."

She pivoted on her heel, turned a slow circle. "Where are you?"

"Just follow my voice."

He barked once, then twice, sharp and resonant—off to her right. She started walking in that direction, using her hands and arms to part the grass.

"Marco!" she called.

She heard the faintest sigh, then, "Polo!"

"Marco!"

Another sharp bark, much closer this time.

She'd just opened her mouth to call to him again when she caught sight of twin silver ears peeking above the grass. She grinned despite herself and quickened her pace.

When she finally reached him, he was sitting beside an old wooden well, nestled—and almost hidden—in the tall grass. It looked ancient, weather-stained and covered in moss. Its wood was cracked and splintered along the sides, but the lip of the well was rubbed so smooth it looked nearly polished. As though many, many hands had touched there.

And as soon as she saw it, her whole being tightened, focused. That inner-part of her nearly chanted in glee: find it find it find it.

"Inu... yasha?" she questioned, gaze fixed on the well. "What...?"

"Do you sense it?" he asked, drawing closer and propping his forepaws on the well's lip. "It's here for you."

That urgent, insistent pulse rippled through her, sizzled along her skin. "For... me?"

He looked at her. "It's always been here for you."

She nodded, though she didn't understand.

"Jump in," he said.

She didn't even think to question him, to wonder at the sheer lunacy of jumping down an unknown well. Her feet moved of their own accord, took her to its rim. She peered over the edge, and was met with darkness... and the tiniest pinprick of light, glowing faintly at the bottom of what seemed to be miles of dank dark.

She glanced back up, met Inuyasha's piercing eyes.

"Jump," he said quietly. "I'll be right behind."

She looked back into the well—at the light in its very bottom. Her right knee lifted, braced against the well's lip; her fingers trembled against the wood. She took a deep breath... and swung her body over the edge.

She fell down into the dark.

_____________________________

A/N

So um. This happened. I started writing this when I needed breaks from You Are My Shelter, and it just kind of snowballed. (If you have no idea what you just read, don't feel bad: I'm not really sure where it come from, either.) But I have to admit, it's been fun to write, and I've got like 90% of the story mapped out, so I'm in it for the long haul.

Please let me know what you think! <3