Kagome chatted
cheerfully with her friend, Keiko, pausing to hear what her friend had to say
and then starting again.
"Are you going to
go to the winter dance?" Keiko asked excitedly, eyes wide with
anticipation.
"I don't
know," Kagome answered hesitantly, "I don't have a date."
"That's
okay!" her friend chirped, "We can go together and just hang
out!"
The eighteen-year-old
Kagome nodded and smiled. Dances were a
big event, but she usually didn't attend them.
This was another chance for her best friend Keiko to drag her out to a
social event.
"You better be
coming!" Keiko admonished, shifting the school bag on her shoulders. "Jeez, Kagome. It's like you live under a rock! You need to get out sometimes!"
"But I DO get
out!" Kagome protested, half lying.
It wasn't often that she left the safety of her room to just hang out
with her friends.
"Only to visit
the library, yeah!" Keiko shot back.
Kagome mumbled under
her breath as they neared the intersection where they would part ways. School was over, and they were both walking
home.
"Bye," Kagome
said glumly, waving absently to her best friend.
"Don't sound so
upset!" she responded, waving cheerily.
"We'll have fun! See ya'
tomorrow!!"
"Sure,"
Kagome muttered, drawing her coat closer to her as she turned the corner.
The girl sighed as the
chill air of winter bit her skin. 'Why
couldn't I get a car?' Both Kagome and
Keiko were certified drivers; they just didn't have cars. Actually, Kagome was more of a motorcycle
person; after all, her father had been a member of a ruthless gang. It was after he met her mother that he gave
up the gang and settled down to a normal life.
'But Dad's gone now so it doesn't matter.' Frowning, she pushed back her memories of a loving father,
showering his daughter and son with affection.
Kagome looked skyward, seeking comfort from the uncaring gray clouds,
ambling past her in a herd of fluffy mashed potatoes. 'I'm hungry.' Speeding up
her pace, she hurried towards the shrine that was her home.
Upon arriving, she
pulled off her boots, setting them neatly down near the door. The cold of the outside air left her, making
room for the cozy warmth of the Higurashi home. Kagome slipped her coat off and threw it hastily over the balustrade
of the stairs.
"I'm home!"
she called happily, already smelling the hot cocoa being made.
"How was your
day?" Ms. Higurashi called, her head appearing in the hallway for a moment
before disappearing back into the bowels of the kitchen.
"Great!"
Kagome replied instinctively, strolling into the kitchen.
Looking around, she found
Souta, her thirteen-year-old brother, sitting comfortably at the table,
munching on a blueberry muffin.
"Hey sis," he called absently, eyes focused into the TV.
"Hi," she
replied, glancing around for signs of Gramps.
"What are you
looking for, dear?" Ms. Higurashi asked, setting out the steaming cups of
cocoa.
"Where's
Gramps?" Kagome asked, taking one of the cups.
"He's...in the
hospital," her mother answered, wringing her hands on the apron she
adorned.
"Why?"
Kagome inquired, a bit alarmed.
"He's just having
a little trouble with the flu, that's all," Ms. Higurashi assured, a bit
nervous.
"Oh," Kagome
said, brushing it off, "Okay, then."
Ms. Higurashi smiled
nervously. 'I can't tell her what's
really going on...' She dismissed the
subject totally, pushing the thoughts of her father to the back of her
mind. Lightening, she joined her
daughter and son at the table for a discussion of which show was better: Hana Yori Dango or Fruits Basket.
Kagome turned off her alarm, hoping to catch just a couple
more minutes of sleep. Alas, this was
not to be her fate. Moaning, she pushed
back her covers and started preparing for school.
Ms. Higurashi silently started making breakfast. Somehow, it felt empty without her father
standing nearby, rattling off the historical facts of the Sengoku Era or
something. She sighed as the plates
were set onto the wooden table. Please
be alright, father… Souta hopped
down from the steps, cheerily asking what was for breakfast (as he did every
morning) and not expecting a response.
Rushing down the stairs, Kagome quickly scarfed down a
little breakfast before grabbing her backpack and coat then dashing out the
door. “Thanks Mom!” was the distant
call as the girl sped down the sidewalk.
Still, the winter air had a sting to it and Kagome drew
her coat closer around her and shifted the bag over her shoulder. She hurried her pace, attempting to draw
warmth to her shivering body. As she
neared the intersection, her best friend trotted up to her.
“Hey Kagome!” Keiko greeted cheerily.
“Hi,” was the mumbled response. Where does she get ALL that energy?
Shaking her head dismissively, Kagome idly listened as her
friend chattered on about something or another. Occasionally, Kagome nodded and added a few comments to the
torrents of gossip streaming from Keiko’s mouth. To her right, a motorcycle passed, seeming like a black comet on
the bare road. Something like silver
silk flowed gently behind the figure, but it passed to quickly for Kagome to
distinguish what it was. Shrugging, she
focused her thoughts on Keiko, not wanting to upset her friend.
They arrived at school early, partly due to their
quickened gait. She and her friend
split ways as they strolled down to their separate homerooms. Kagome paid no heed to the multitudes of
students hanging around the corridors; she focused ahead. A couple times, some casual friends stopped
her to catch up on things. ‘How are
you? How’s school? Got a boyfriend?’ Kagome smiled warmly and conversed for a couple minutes before
again continuing on her way.
~*~*~*~*~
He had been watching her for a few years, now. Just about everything that happened to her,
he knew. Everything she did, he
knew. It was only until recently that
he had to actually meet with her. No,
he was not a stalker. And no, he was
not some rapist. He, Sesshoumaru, was
the leader of a well-known, well-feared gang.
In a way, they were a gang of class, the best of the best. And then again, they were group of
miscreants, the worst of the worst.
Whichever one they were, he did not care. What mattered was that he kept the leadership and his reputation.
“Can you see her?” a black haired teen asked, averting his gaze as if he was talking to himself.
“Yes, what of it?” Sesshoumaru answered, also averting his
gaze.
“Good. Do you know
of her history?”
“No,” was the curt answer.
“Well,” the man said slyly, softly, “she has NEVER done
anything wrong. Her record is
flawless.”
Sesshoumaru gave no answer, unsure of where this conversation
was going.
“It seems she has NEVER had a boyfriend, either,” the man
drawled on.
“What is your point, Naraku?” Sesshoumaru demanded
irritably.
“It would be quite an accomplishment to turn her towards
our purposes,” the man known as Naraku said smoothly, twirling a lock of his
wavy raven black hair.
“Is that a challenge?” Sesshoumaru asked softly.
“What do you think?”
Sesshoumaru shook his head in disbelief. Why had he agreed to this? Because Naraku’s about to take over my
position if he wins another one of his inane challenges. Sighing softly, he observed the girl,
Kagome. Indeed, he had found out, her
record was flawless. She was a
straight-A student, and has had no long-standing relationship with any
male. Slowly, he took her in. The girl possessed blue-gray eyes, warm with
gentle and compassionate kindness.
Jet-black hair tumbled over her shoulders and halfway down her
back. The way she moved was graceful
and quick. How she carried herself
displayed her free, unbroken spirit.
She seemed quite interesting…
He followed about ten feet behind her, strolling casually
and in his elegant way. Students made
way for him as he neared them. He,
himself, did not have to stray off his course an inch. Everyone moved away from him. No one wanted to mess with Sesshoumaru. Even his name alone was feared. The guy was rich, gorgeous, and well known
for his gang. Touch him, you die. Of course, girls’ breaths still caught at
the sight of him, his silvery white hair flowing lightly behind him and his
golden eyes taking in anything and everything.
Yes, everything seemed bent to his will. He could almost do anything he pleased, right under the
administrators’ noses. Smirking
lightly, he silently followed Kagome, not yet ready to make his presence
known. This girl puzzled him,
really. Never in her life, had she paid
attention to him, not that he had known, at least.
~*~*~*~*~
Keiko waved her fork around as she explained to Kagome the
break-up scene of one of THE most popular kids in school, whose names she had
forgotten. Kagome, as usual, only
half-listened, out there in her own little world. It was when her name was called over the intercom that she
snapped back to reality.
“Higurashi Kagome down to the main office, please,” was
the monotonous call.
Keiko looked a bit critically at her friend as if to say,
‘What did you do?’ Kagome shrugged and
stood from her seat, hastily leaving the noisy cafeteria.
Sesshoumaru watched as Kagome left, eying her in his
peripheral vision. Naraku watched as
well, smirking slightly.
“Made any progress, yet?” the black haired man asked.
“Not as of yet,” Sesshoumaru answered, casually pushing
himself up from the table to follow Kagome.
“Good luck, friend,” Naraku said sarcastically.
Sesshoumaru shot him a glare before exiting the
lunchroom. He silently strode though
the empty hallways. Kagome was not far
ahead of him, jogging down through the carpeted passages. When she finally reached the main office,
Sesshoumaru stopped at a corner and listened as the secretary at the front
informed Kagome of a call. Straining
his hearing, he could just catch the soft words spoken by Kagome.
“…yeah, hi Mom…what’s wrong?…yeah…so?…he…what?…Mom, I
can’t hear you…why are you crying?…” Kagome said.
Sesshoumaru longed to hear the words at the other end of
the phone, but that would not happen. Calling
school? For what?
Kagome just about dropped the phone when she heard what
her mother had said.
“Kagome,” Ms. Higurashi said, tone choked with tears,
“it’s your grandfather…he died.”
December
2002
A choked sob escaped her throat as she hid her face in her delicate hands. She just couldn’t believe he was dead…after all those years spent together. Even his nonsensical history ‘lessons’ were better than this. But now, he was gone…for good. Already, her nose felt congested and her skull like it was being crushed. The beautiful blue-gray eyes she possessed were burning with liquid despair.
“He
had been a knowledgeable man, wise beyond his years in the teachings of life
and history,” the man at the podium said with practiced sadness.
Kagome thought back to the ‘old
days’, where Grandpa had rattled off the historical attributes of their sacred
shine home. This here shrine has
been around for thousands of years, ever since the Sengoku Jidai. It always has housed those of the Higurashi
bloodline. Kagome, someday, you will be
the master of this shrine, when I’m gone…
She shut her eyes tightly, trying to push away the memories. The history of these pickles is
amazing! They were, long ago, planted
by a kindly old man with no money to spare.
He lived solely on his crop. Then,
one day, large cucumbers sprouted. The
old man was overjoyed; he finally had enough food to feed his family…
“Let
us pay our last respects to this wonderful man, Higurashi Tetsuo,” the man
continued.
Kagome and her family were
first, approaching the mahogany coffin shakily. Ms. Higurashi bit down on her lip, attempting to stifle her
sobs. Kagome, however, was not so
strong. Tears spilled in abundance from
her gray-tinted eyes as violent sobs wracked her body. Her mother, seeing her daughter cry, wrapped
her arms about her and Souta and also wept loudly. The rest of the audience, already saddened by the death, gazed in
sympathy at the broken family.
Kagome couldn’t believe it…for
all his history lessons and annoying ramblings, it all would have been better
than this. Anything but this…she didn’t
even get to tell him how much she loved him, and her chance, now, was lost
totally.
~*~*~*~*~
Souta stared blankly at the people whom were lined up to pay their final respects. Each of them sent an empathetic look his way, shaking their heads sadly. He couldn’t believe it…Grandpa was dead? If someone were to say, he looked dazed and confused, oblivious to his surroundings, much like a deer in headlights. His mind was numb, allowing his body to take over his actions for now. A look of exhaustion and loss was painted on his pallid features. Maybe he could sort it all out later…at home.
~*~*~*~*~
Ms. Higurashi looked blankly around their shrine home. She half-expected her father-in-law to come out one of the doors, jumping into a technical explanation of the sandpaper-colored wood of the house. But then, she remembered, they had just been at his funeral, bidding him their last good-byes. Dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief, she turned to face her two depressed children. She had to strong…for them. Placing the best smile she could manage on her red lips, she opened her arms to an embrace, and they gladly accepted. After remaining like that for a few minutes, Ms. Higurashi couldn’t help but sob again.
“Mama?” Souta asked tentatively.
“Yes, dear?”
“Is…Grandpa…really…”
Another sob wracked her body. “Yes,” she choked out.
Her son remained silent, and after they broke their embrace, he left for the confines of his own room. Flopping down onto his bed, he pondered the events of the day. It just hadn’t sunk in yet, the fact of his grandfather’s death. It was as if…he wasn’t meant to accept it.
Souta was a special boy; everyone knew…in a way. Those at his school suspected he was a genius, and it had been confirmed with a few IQ tests online. But of course, those weren’t official, and geniuses took some time to develop. Souta seemed to look at the world in different ways, with a mind more open than anyone else’s. He understood things like no one ever could, in more varied ways than imaginable. For example, whereas everyone looked at world peace as the goal of our existence, he saw it as a hindrance. If there was world peace, there would be overpopulation, would there not? People would live in unbearable conditions, and from those conditions, there would sprout filth of the worst sort. Filth where everything was infected with human waste, filled with disease-causing microbes. It would be the Dark Ages all over again. And then, because of this unsanitary environment and the loss of lives widespread, humans would have more and more children, causing more overpopulation.
Yes, his view of the world was different. He need not be told that the world was not all peaches and cream; he already knew. But then, he realized, he was a human, and humans had a need to be comfortable and happy. Right now, he wasn’t too happy. Being considered a genius at school and also by his family brought on extremely high expectations. He was only fourteen years old, and he was expected to ace every test, quiz, and the like. His standardized tests always came back with high marks, scoring better than 99% percent of the country in every subject. His subjects were all mastered, but he also struggled with school. And that didn’t quite make sense to him. Instilled in him was the barest of rays of hope that he really was a genius, and to him, a genius needn’t struggle with his schoolwork at all. But still, he did, and that planted a growing doubt in his mind. He was just a smart boy, that’s all, not a genius. But people didn’t want to believe that, and still, they pushed him to his academic limits. If he were to say, a flicker of depression was beginning to take hold on him.
Now that he thought about it, he had only four A’s out of eight. The rest were A-‘s. Being the perfectionist he was, he saw it as a definite failure. Leaving a child prodigy like Souta alone in his state of mind wasn’t the best thing to do. His thoughts were taking a suicidal mode, and with his enhanced mind, he knew that. But that didn’t stop him from thinking as he did. Souta was a boy who understood the depths of human nature, and that left him to know himself completely. He knew his flaws, his strengths, and his goals. It left him to wonder if anyone really cared for him at all. The fact of the matter was the world could go without his presence, and he was only being a nuisance to his mother and sister right now.
Rising from his soft bed, he went to his window and gazed out upon the vast expanse of the Shinto shrine in which they lived. Everything seemed to have taken on a dreary air, mourning the death of the Shrine Master. Finally, the realization struck Souta like a thousand boulders hurled at him from enemy lines. His grandfather was dead. The last feathers of logic he possessed flew away from him, and his mind was set in an utter misery. The world didn’t need him.
All the stress from school and his home life was piling up, having not been released from his juvenile body. I bet it was Souta who go the perfect score! What is this?! You have an A- in math! Get to work! Are you stupid or something?! Souta! Why are you still up doing your homework? You’re supposed to be in bed! Souta, you have to know, I’m very proud of you… The last voice in his head snapped his eyes open, brimming with tears. Daddy, why can’t you be here with me? You would understand. Souta opened his window and pushed out the screen that shielded him from the course winter air. Pulling himself out the window, he climbed the wall of the house onto the roof. He stood atop his home, taking in everything around him one last time. Smiling weakly at the scenery, he sent a gaze towards his sister, shooting arrows at the aligned targets. I’m really sorry, sis…
Kagome swiveled around, something inside her telling her that an event was about to come to pass. Her eyes widened when she saw Souta’s body plummet from the roof, gliding haphazardly towards the ground. Resounding cracks and the disgusting crush of a body against earth could be heard. No! NO! Tears streaming from her anguished eyes, she streaked toward her little brother’s body, hoping for the best and anticipating the worst.
Souta smiled bitterly as his mind closed off to everything. Memories were flashing by in bits and pieces, the last one of his father, sister, and himself, taking a ride on their father’s motorcycle. Even as the air rushed by him, he managed a harsh laugh. Now, I don’t have to accept Grandpa’s death OR Daddy’s death. All his senses were burning as the sensation of pain struck him full force. And then…everything went black.
[To Be Continued…]