InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Voiceless Ballet ❯ Prologue ( Prologue )

Prologue

She couldn't believe all of the people she had already hit, the bodies that were piling in her wake. There was blood everywhere, on her clothes, pooling at her feet, and most importantly, coating her hands. Her eyes watered slightly, but she pushed the tears away. This was life. Kill or be killed.

 

It was not, after all, as if her blows weren't being returned, deadly slashes toward her throat and heart and stomach. They would never hesitate, and so she should be almost eager. That was what he always told her.

 

Suddenly, she saw him and she dashed in his direction, sustaining blows to the head and abdomen on the way. It seemed as if the faster and harder she ran, the farther he moved away. But finally, she made it, and threw her arms around his neck and his hands were around her waist. For a moment, the pain of everything before then seemed to evaporate and she was safe and happy again.

 

Then the moment was over, and it was as if a spotlight had been trained on the two of them, absolute darkness running free outside of the personal circle of light. Shapeless, faceless forms were starting to gather around them and she pulled away from him to look around. This was a mistake.

 

He vanished, and with him went her sense of comfort, her sense of safety, and her spotlight. The shadows pounced on her, forcing her to the ground and hands going everywhere. Some went to her chest, some to her clothes, some to her skirt, and some to her throat, forcing her mouth open…

 

“Kagome! Kagome, wake up!”

 

Kagome Higurashi, sixteen-year-old orphan and former Japanese gang princess, bolted upright suddenly, her chocolate eyes wide and quickly filling with tears. Her gaze darted wildly around her, terrified and disoriented, until she remembered where she was. She was trapped for six more hours in an overly plush, though still claustrophobic, seat, suspended thousands of feet over the Pacific Ocean. The idea suddenly made her sick.

 

Kagome jumped suddenly, feeling a feather light touch on her midnight black hair. She whipped around to see her adoptive sister, Sango, staring worriedly back at her. Sango leaned closer, pushing her own inky black hair out of her eyes and whispering to Kagome softly. It was only then that Kagome noticed the stares they were receiving.

 

“Kagome-chan… you're okay? You were kind of… twitching in your sleep. I know I shouldn't have woken you up but—”

 

Kagome silenced her, placing her thin hand on the older girl's shoulder with a tiny forced smile. Inwardly, she was swearing. Of course, she had been “twitching”. The dream, the dream that continued for weeks to plague her, it had returned again, and this time it had come while she was stuck in a plane full of nosy people. Sango bit her lip, but let it go, sensing Kagome's silent message. She sighed.

 

“Alright, you're fine. I get it,” she said with a smile of her own. Though they had never been sisters by blood, Kagome and she shared more than just black hair and brown eyes (the combination was more than common in their old home). They were both stubborn, both hard-shelled. Sango knew on instinct that Kagome would be slow to be made a fuss over, especially now.

 

Kagome began to straighten from the awkward position she had fallen into during her nap, but halted suddenly, a gasp of pain erupting from her throat. Sango was there instantly, brushing her hair comfortingly out of her eyes. “Easy,” she murmured soothingly. Kagome only shuddered and fought back the wave of nausea that came with mind numbing pain. Straightening painfully, she managed to tap the back of her wrist, as if indicating a watch and then waved her hand questioningly. Sango's brown eyes darkened but she checked her watch wordlessly. Suddenly, there was a loud rattling above their heads and the pair looked upward to see two small orange bottles filled with various sized pills and then a round grinning face.

 

“I saw that sign and I figured what it meant. And, to read your mind, Higurashi, yes, it is time for the more fun selection of your drug cocktail,” chuckled a handsome young man in the row behind them, his short hair pulled into a rat-tail in the back. His dark blue eyes twinkled merrily at them both as Kagome snatched the bottles from him with a grateful smile. She leaned downward, but then stopped, halted by her pain once more. Sango pursed her lips and pushed Kagome firmly back against the seat.

 

“Kagome, sit still!” she scolded. “You've got what? Four cracked ribs? And the rest of them are bruised. Please realize that when you move, it's gonna hurt.” Of course, she was exaggerating slightly. She did not even know if it was possible to bruise all of your ribs. Kagome was, however, in pretty bad shape.

 

Four fractured ribs, a shattered wrist, a knife to the lower abdomen, and two gunshot wounds, one to the shoulder and one through the center of the chest, a shot that came close enough to her vocal chords to almost destroy the surrounding muscle, not to mention the lethal amount of alcohol that had been forced down her throat, countless cuts and bruises, and violations Sango refused to let herself even think about. All of this combined to make Kagome one walking wound. She was taking a total of seven medications, all of them painkillers, antibiotics, and blood pressure and was scheduled for a doctor's appointment only two hours after they touched down in America. One would be amazed at how active she was, considering, but then again, she spent most of her time knocked out by the pills.

 

“Now, what do you want?” Sango asked evenly. Kagome huffed and blew her hair out of her eyes. With a small frown, she made a `W' with her fingers and pressed it to the corner of her mouth. She pointed to the space under the seat in front of her. Sango nodded understandingly. “Right, water,” she mumbled, grabbing the water bottle stowed in the space Kagome indicated. “Miroku, are these—”

 

“Yes, Sango, they are the right ones,” Miroku protested, looking indignant. “I know that at least Higurashi-san has faith in my counting skills,” he answered.

 

Kagome waved her hands and made six hand signs in quick succession. Miroku replied with a blank look. Sango smiled.

 

“K-A-G-O-M-E,” she said slowly. “She wants you to call her Kagome.” She took the two bottles and tipped them into her palm, two capsules from one and one tablet from the other. She handed these to Kagome who rolled her eyes with a good natured smirk and swallowed it all with a swig of water. She sighed gratefully as numbness began to set in and resigned herself to being knocked out soon. She was, after all, taking some heavy duty stuff.

 

Suddenly, she made a motion as if writing on her palm and then held out her hand expectantly. Sango rolled her eyes. “Demanding today aren't we?” she teased. Kagome smiled rubbed her hand over her heart. Sango smiled and began to rummage through her bag. “Much better. You want paper too?” Kagome nodded. Sango gave her a pen and a small pad of paper. “Keep it,” she told her.

 

“Thanks,” Kagome scribbled across the top. “Tell me again where we're going?” she wrote and handed it to Miroku. Miroku grinned.

 

“The most relaxing and luxurious place in all of America. California. Boarding School. Beautiful Kagome, you simply cannot do any better than that!” he sighed. Kagome giggled, or at least, made the motions. No sounds came from her. Her eyelids were drooping slightly by this time and she sat back as Miroku handed her notepad back to her.

 

“I think I'll go back to sleep,” she wrote and handed the pen and paper back to Sango who read it and nodded. She adjusted the pillow Kagome had fondly.

 

“Alright, if you don't wake up for the next batch of pills I'll have to wake you up, but luckily, by then the plane will be ready to land in about an hour. That set shouldn't make you sleep so…” Sango trailed off, noticing that Kagome was already halfway asleep. Sango sighed and pulled up the small down blanket the flight attendant had given her earlier in the flight. Her heart sank as she noticed Kagome's lips moving soundlessly.

 

She and Miroku had arrived in Japan two weeks earlier, responding to a call from one of her old gang mates. Of course, she left that kind of life behind when she moved to America, but she still had close ties with some of them, enough for one of them to call her when Kagome ended up in the hospital, halfway on her way to the afterlife.

 

Sango had been in near hysterics. Kagome had been her little sister far before her move to America, before her parents had adopted Kagome, probably from the very first day they met and the pair had fought off some older kids trying to jump them. Kagome was the only real tie she had left to Japan and she had been trying in vain to get her out to America for two years.

 

Sango had inherited the gang life from her father, a notorious King Pin. For years she and Kagome shared the lives of mob Princesses, until she realized that their kind of life would have her killed soon. This epiphany came at the death of her mother, a beautiful American woman, at the hands of a rival gang. Only days after the funeral, she had organized her move to America, finding a woman who had once been her mother's best friend and a boarding school so that she would not be a burden. Once her father found out about her plans, he did nothing to stop her, offering her only the words “Do what is best.”

 

Kagome, however, had been furious at her plans to leave her behind and when Sango offered to bring her along, she flat out refused. She raged about loyalties and the people she would be leaving, but Sango saw through this. Kagome had always been hesitant when trying new things. The idea of abandoning everything she had ever known was terrifying to her little sister. Sango accepted this and resigned herself to waiting until Kagome was ready. Never would she have thought that Kagome would finally accept, not because she was finally okay with it, but because it was her only choice.

 

There was a sudden warmth on her shoulder as a few tears slipped through her tightly closed eyelids. Sango looked up to see Miroku gazing back at her comfortingly. He smiled knowingly.

 

“Sango, you can't keep tearing yourself up over the situation,” he said softly. Sango bit her lip and scrubbed her eyes, frustrated.

 

“I can't help it, Miroku! Look at her! She can't even bend over to get her water, she's in that much pain!” she whispered shrilly, trying not to disturb the other passengers or wake up Kagome. Miroku slid his hand down to grab Sango's.

 

“Yes, right now, she is in an insane amount of pain. But she is alive Sango and so she will heal,” he answered gently. Sango ripped her hand away and turned in her seat to face him.

 

“How do you know that? Those doctors, they said that she may never speak again, may never be able to speak to her lover or sing to her children. And the trauma of what happened to her…? Miroku, she mentions hardly a word of what happened; she wouldn't even be sleeping if it weren't for the pills; she was found bleeding to death and naked and the doctors…”

 

Miroku cut her off, taking her shoulders and shaking her gently. “I know what the doctors found. I know what they did to her. But Sango, you've got to get a grip, for your sake and for her's. She needs you to be strong for her now, and you know it. Alright? Be the strong pillar of strength you and I both know she's looking for, okay? She may be bad now, but you can count on her getting better with each day. She's going to be okay,” he told her firmly. Sango had sobered throughout his speech, her eyes widening each word. Finally, she sniffed a little and wiped at her cheek, giving him a feeble smile.

 

“You're right… you're right…” she murmured. She cast a glance down at Kagome. “We'll make it through this… eventually.” She turned to look at Kagome, who had stopped mumbling and was sleeping soundly. She sighed and placed her hands over Miroku's. “We can thank Kami-sama that her legs, for one, are unharmed,” she mumbled. Miroku gave her a questioning look.

 

“Why's that? I don't think a wheelchair would be too much to handle for a few months,” he answered. Sango smiled and shook her head.

 

“For as long as I can remember, Kagome has been dancing around the house; twirling into the kitchen and doing fancy kinds of leaps over the smallest most insignificant things. She has a dancer's heart, but the kind of life we led didn't leave room for much except for fighting. You know how good of a dance department we've got. She'll have something she loves while she's settling in. It'll be easier for her than it was for me.”

 

Miroku suddenly got a mischievous look. “The dance department?” he asked, suddenly envisioning the scores of flexible, beautiful women sports bras and form fitting shorts. “I, of course, will accompany her to these dance classes,” he asserted. Seeing Sango's suspicious look, he quickly added, “So that she may have a familiar face around.”

 

Sango scoffed and leaned back in her seat, contemplating taking a short nap as well. “You pervert,” she mumbled. “You just want to see women in skimpy clothes.”

 

Miroku sat back in his seat, pouting because his plan had been found out. “You have no faith in me, Sango,” he sulked.