Stranded To A Yearning

 

 

1-Liberation

July 2003

 

The blank wall in front of me shifted with surprising ease.  I was only just beginning to accustom myself with modern technology, and even as I made my baby steps toward gathering the strange homey familiarity that one drew from his surroundings, I couldn’t help but feel a curiously amused twitch of surprise and, perhaps, admiration.  The bungling fools who managed to call themselves “engineers of the future” had finally lived up to my sardonic expectations; I’d doubted they could come up with something that’d keep me locked up for long.

Go figure.

Fifty years, baby.  Trapped in a five by five prison cell for fifty fucking years of my life.

Not like it mattered, though.

As the panels slid shut behind me, leaving a perfect, seamless wall in their wake, I found myself accompanied by two guards.  I figured there was that ten-second space of time—from when the panels opened and when the guards saw me—for which I could dash by them, but the bonds snugly wrapped around my ankles prevented any of that; they made it nearly impossible for me to run, somehow channeling gravity in high concentration through my feet.  I say ‘nearly’ because I figure if they really are rerouting gravity’s course, it is only a matter of strength that I defy them.  To my misfortune, I was a rather skinny man—long and lanky some would say—and not having had much nourishment while in a prison only made my situation more difficult.  Why was I saying this, though?  I was being released for heaven’s sake.  I guess the confinement really got to my head…it was possible.

My orange outfit was quickly becoming an eyesore since I had to check myself over every so often—not like it wasn’t since the beginning.  I changed my appearance to fit the look of a man locked in prison for fifty years.  Of course, my complexion did its own work.  I was once tan, but prison pallor had taken over.  My well-trimmed hair now cascaded over my shoulders and down my back; my face had taken on a sunken look.  I was no longer attractive, you could say.

My hands are bound with blue-green neon stuff that definitely resembled licorice in its flashiest form.  From what I could tell, it wouldn’t bend to anyone’s command except a band of the same color.  I had long observed the fact that the facility had a differently colored binding for each inhabitant.  The replicas were given only under authorized signature, ID, and fingerprint.  I bet they went crazy with the budget on this place.

After what seemed like an hour, we reached the final door.  It led to an outside world I hadn’t seen for half a century.  Ah, what the hell.  I didn’t care.  They could dump me in the nearest landfill.  As long as I was free I didn’t give a rat’s ass where I landed.  Screw geography.  Freedom was all that mattered.

In any case, it wasn’t hard to find out that it was the last door.  It was a dead giveaway, what with a hundred extra locks that kissed the wall, not to mention the discreet “EXIT” sign next to the door.

I could feel my blood run faster with the anticipation of leaving this goddamned place.

The guards simultaneously tapped a code into a blank keypad and then the final door slid open.  I was shoved out unceremoniously.

I had to turn my head away from the bright sunlight.  It had been ages since I’d been under anything but fluorescent lighting.

To my surprise, a car was waiting for me, as well as several crews of reporters.  Did they really think me that special?  I was flattered.

Questions bombarded me from all sides, but I ignored them.  What did they matter?

I looked to the car, a satisfied half-smile finding its way to my lips.  “Kohaku,” I murmured.  The boy was still willing to serve me even after all the years.  I guess he still felt a bit indebted to me after what I did for him.  I chuckled.  Well, not like he had much choice in the matter anyways.

As soon as I stepped into the car he sped off.  I was thankful for the fact that Kohaku was my best driver.

I leaned back in my seat and flexed my hands, the bindings having been removed earlier.

Kohaku glanced back nervously at me.  “Which charges were you arrested on, sir?” he asked quietly.

I laughed softly.  “Attempted murder,” I responded, “of that Higurashi bastard.  Has he died yet?”

He nodded.  “Yup.  Three years ago.  They called it food poisoning.”

“Excellent.”  I ran an idle hand through my unkempt hair.  “Now, revenge for knocking me into the smaller in the first place.”

“He has a daughter, a son, and a wife still living,” Kohaku offered.

I gave this some thought.  “I’ll go for the daughter,” I decided nonchalantly.  A pause.  “Notify the government that their top killer is back,” I added offhandedly.

“Hai, Naraku-sama.”

 

`        `        `

 

I hugged my friend warmly.  “Don’t worry, Sango-chan.  Someday, somehow, we’ll get him back.”

We were both watching the seven o’clock news.  Reports of Morimoto Naraku’s release had been running almost all day, and when we finally settled down to watch it, the camera caught a flash of Sango’s little brother sitting in the car waiting for Naraku.  We weren’t too sure what exactly happened to him after he went to Naraku, but one thing was for sure: his memory had  been permanently fragmented; he only had bits and pieces of information concerning his “old life.”

I sighed and glared at the LCD monitor that served as a television.  I had no doubts that Naraku had killed my father.  Even though his attempt had failed those many years ago with a gun—a rather expensive gun—and a knife, I still believed the “food poisoning” my father suffered from was somehow connected to Naraku.

“Thanks, Kagome-chan.”

I nodded, rising to answer the tapping at the door.  My cell phone rang at the same time, so I transferred the call to the LCD so Sango could take care of that while I saw to the visitor.  No one should have been coming over at this hour, though.  I was surprised when I found a man—a gorgeous one at that—on my doorstep.  I took a moment to collect myself.

“Hello…”  I trailed off.

He stared impassively at me.

I shifted.  “Why don’t you come in?”

“Kagome-chan!”

Smiling, I left the door open for him and went back to Sango.  My mother waved from the LCD.  She grinned warmly as the man stepped in behind me.

“I see he’s already arrived,” she observed cheerily.  “How are you, Kagome?”

“Fine, mama, but…?”  I indicated the Stoic behind me.

Her grin widened substantially as she beamed down at the man.  “Oh, that’s your new bodyguard, dear.”

I stared at her blankly.  Bodyguard?  My glance turned questioning as I looked over my supposed “bodyguard.”  My mother answered my silent question.  Why?

The sweet expression suddenly turned very grim; she must have been thinking about Morimoto’s release.  Long ago, she had expressed to me that we shared the same opinion on my father’s death.  It was Morimoto who did it, no question.  Her face softened as she sighed.  “Kagome, you know I’m getting on in years.  I’ve only got twenty or so…”  The words performed a drastic decrescendo, dying on her tongue.  She sighed again.  “Well, I just…want you to be safe, Kagome.  Souta’s got a guard, too.”

I nodded solemnly, suddenly feeling very suspicious of everyone around me.  I ran a hand through my hair, smiling reassuringly.  “Don’t worry, mama.  I’ll take care of myself.”  Casting a sideward glance, I nodded at the guard, my eyebrow twitching upward in silent inquiry of the silvery hair and exotic eyes as well as the unnaturally effeminate beauty.

Mama seemed to pick up on this, inclining her head briefly and winking.  “I’ll talk to you later then, sweetie.”

“Bye.”

The display flickered back the news briefly before Sango shut it off.  She turned to me, chin in her hands.  “So…?”

“Well,” I started, running my fingers absently over the phone’s leather casing, “she said she’d call me later, so I’ll wait on that.”  I looked pointedly at my guard.  “Are you mute?”  I asked humorously.

The man leveled a flat stare at me.  I shifted again, uncomfortable with his heavy gaze.

“Is that a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’?”

“No.”

I jumped back when I heard his voice.  I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I hadn’t heard him talk before, so the deep, commanding tone was quite an awakening.  Briefly, I thought on this, and then decided I liked his voice.  I could get used to it.  Swallowing any unease I smiled at him and hoped I didn’t look like a complete idiot.  “What’s your name?”  I deliberated this.  “Are you allowed to tell me?”

“I do as I please.”

I saw he completely bypassed the first question.  Shrugging, I tried again, “Alright then, what’s your name?”

“Sesshoumaru.”

Sesshoumaru…“Nice to meet you, Sesshoumaru!”  I bowed shallowly.  “My name’s Kagome.  Higurashi Kagome.  Do you have a last name?”

He didn’t respond.  I took it that he didn’t like superfluous movement or speech.  Alrighty then.  I guess that’s another ‘no’.  Strange, though.  Why doesn’t he have a last name?  I’d have to ask my mom about it later.

“Is it alright if I call you ‘Maru’, then?”  I asked politely.  “‘Sesshoumaru’ seems too long,” I added.

Since the negative answer was already demonstrated by silence, he inclined his head forward ever so slightly.  Oh, I could tell this guy was going to be difficult.

“Well, um…”  I fidgeted for something to say, a finger twirling a lock of hair nervously, “make yourself comfortable, then.”

My phone rang, and I thanked the gods for the excuse.  I sent a wink in Sango’s direction, wishing her luck in company with Frosty.  “Moshi moshi?”  My feet carried to the next room, where I would hopefully have some privacy.  Absently, I wondered if my guard had enhanced hearing but dismissed it thoughtlessly.  I was running away with my imagination.  I grinned for the millionth time that day when my mother’s voice floated over the phone.

“Have you had a chance to talk to him, yet?” she queried.

I sighed before answering.  “Yes, actually.”

A laugh met my ears, and I could hear amusement prevalent in her voice when she continued.  “Difficult, isn’t it?”

I said that it was.

“Well, dear, he’s one of those…”

“…weapons,” I finished for her.  I’d heard of these people—bred specifically to serve, to kill, sometimes.  Rumors that Naraku was born as one of these had reached me ears as well; I didn’t doubt the truth in them.

“Yes, very well put.  I believe he’s quite good—top of his field, they say.”  She paused, as if considering what to say next.  “He was renowned for his impassiveness.”  There was a pregnant pause between us.

“He’ll be staying with me, right?”

I heard her shift over the line.  “If you can handle it…”

“Mama!”  I whined.  “You know I’m mature enough to watch myself.”

“Kagome…” she started uncertainly, “You…you’ve never had a longstanding relationship in your life, you know that…”

I sighed in exasperation.  “He wouldn’t.”

Silence deafened my ears.  “Just don’t fall in love with him, alright?  Kagome, he wouldn’t be able to love you back…I don’t want that for you.  You saw how attractive he is,” she admonished.  I could hear the motherly tone filtering through now, and I suddenly felt very irritated and warm at the same time.

I smiled softly.  “Don’t worry, mama.”

Her relief was nearly tangible while I hung up after exchanging “I love you”’s.

I don’t think I’d ever fall for someone like him, I mused absently.

 

[To Be Continued…]