Prologue: Mist and Tears
It was a day of sadness, Higurashi Himitsu reflected, casting smoky gray eyes to the overcast sky above. The entire world was cast into shades of gray by the early morning mist - from the washed out bricks of the surrounding buildings to the dark gray silhouettes of the street lamps dotting the pale sidewalk. The lamps themselves were still on and the light cast off was absorbed by the foggy air, creating misty halos of white.
There were few people present in this rundown district so early in the morning - a fact Himitsu considered to be a simplee blessing. A man in a black business suit carrying a shakujou was likely to attract unwanted attention, even in Tokyo. And the heavy mist enshrouded him into his own world; keeping what few curious stares he might have received down to a bare minimum.
The mist was also a burden when it came to tracking his prey and he almost wished he hadn't taken this mission solo. Himitsu shook his head - his partner's sharp eyesight would have been useful but this youkai was pretty weak and only worth a solo mission. In fact, it hadn't even noticed being taile-
Wait. Himitsu paused as the mist condensed to a fog-like density before dispersing, and he only glimpsed his prey for a second as it scuttled into the darkness of a nearby alley. Himitsu barely contained a shiver as icy needles stung the flesh between his shoulder blades. Something wasn't right.
He extracted two ofuda from his black jacket sleeve, the fresh paper feeling grainy between his fingertips. He crept along the wall, occasionally stepping in the sparse puddles leftover from last night's rain. The black mouth of the alley repelled and beckoned to him and Himitsu could feel the loud pounding of his heart. He paused to mentally berate himself - he was acting like a rookie all over again!
Yet despite his disgust he never lessened his caution as he entered the alley, his black suit allowing him to blend in the shadows. Ofuda in one hand and shakujou in the other, he crept silently through the alleyway, watching tree directions at once.
It was the fourth that gave him problems.
The muted whisper of disturbed air was the only warning Himitsu received as the youkai swooped down on him from above. He ducked, but the creature’s claws managed to catch the side of his face – one of the tips broke off a mere millimeter from his eye. The talons on the back legs had done their damage too and blood splashed against the nearby wall, a brilliant scarlet stain set upon colorless brick.
‘Fool! Overconfident, egotistical FOOL!!’ He yelled at himself. ‘You always keep your back covered!’ He ran, ducking as the youkai attempted another pass, and he wildly threw one of his ofuda. He missed, the pain from his wounds knocking his aim off as it harmlessly stuck against the brick wall beside his opponent.
The bat youkai grinned, his eyes shining red with madness and bloodlust. The priest was weakened; he could smell the red liquid of life pouring from the human’s wounds like an unstoppable river. He flexed his claws and roared, diving again.
Himitsu managed a wry smile as he threw the last two ofuda in his hand, their characters nearly indistinguishable under all the blood. One missed, but the other struck the youkai’s wing and he was rewarded with a shriek of pain as proof of the scroll’s power. The appendage immobilized, it could no longer control its flight pattern and the creature smashed into the brick wall.
The human priest walked toward the struggling creature, containment spell in hand, when a knife suddenly streaked by his unmarked cheek. He had just enough time to notice the holy power sheathed around the blade before the weapon connected with its target. The youkai let out a screech of pain before it evaporated in a low flash of light, leaving the silver dagger to glitter alone amongst the dull gray rubble.
Himitsu staggered, leaning against the wall as he turned to peer deeper into the gloom of the alley. The blood from his wound streamed into his left eye, giving his vision a crimson tint and impairing his vision. He closed it to prevent more blood from flowing in and stiffened as a dark chuckle wafted from the intangible darkness.
“My, my, my. A lackey from the IYC – but wait! Not just any agent but the infamous Higurashi himself!” Himitsu drew in a ragged breath – he knew that darkly amused voice. A voice usually cold an emotionless…
“And it seems as if you’re injured,” the voice continued as a hint of satisfaction paired up with the amusement. “All the more easier for me to do this.” The metallic barrel of a gun pierced the gloom and Himitsu stumbled in an attempted to escape. Tripping, he felt the bullet graze his hair as he fell, the motion sending a searing pain through his chest upon the agitation of his wounds. Footsteps and the soft whisper of cloth warned him as his assailant came to stand at his side.
He had the sudden, horrifying vision that it was his daughter standing before him, her hand on the trigger. But his daughter was only four and full of life – so much the opposite of the emotionless doll standing above him now.
“Where is the Shikon no tama?” Himitsu blinked at the question.
“Shikon no…tama?”
“Yes, the Shikon no tama. It is rumored to lie with the most recent Higurashi. Where is it?!” A touch of desperation tinged her voice as her hand tightened its grip on the gun.
“No idea.” And with those words, her mask slipped into an unmistakable countenance of fury.
“Then see you in Hell.” Her words were devoid of emotion even as she pulled the trigger, shooting him in the chest.
And then Himitsu suddenly understood. A weak, watery chuckle gurgled from his throat and he was dimly aware of blood trickling down the side of his mouth. “You lose…Kikyou…” His vision started fading – he was losing the futile battle against death. “I am…not the last…Higurashi…”
His hands slowly relaxed as his eyes closed. And as the darkness claimed him and as his breathing stopped, he smiled.
Kikyou watched, her face impassive, as her opponent breathed his last. But inside, her emotions were at a boil: fear, anger, exasperation, sadness, then lastly – resignation. She had failed to acquire the Shikon no tama – Himitsu was not the last of his line.
Turning, she melted into the shadows. “I will have the Shikon no tama. I will be free of Naraku.”
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Shiroi stumbled as her sandal strap broke, shocking her into dropping her green, ceramic tea mug. She gasped in horror as the mug smashed sideways into the pale, cement steps. It didn’t break, but a long, jagged crack had formed at the point of impact. Sighing regretfully, Shiroi bent down, picking up the broken sandal in one hand and the mug in the other. “And the sandals were brand new too…”
“Mama! Mama!” Four-year-old Higurashi Kagome ran to her mother. She was dressed in a pale yellow sundress, and she had an urgent look on her face.
“Mama, Daddy says he has ‘ta go ‘way,” Kagome pouted sullenly.
“Wha – ?” Shiori looked up behind her daughter but no one was there. She gave the child a stern look. “Did he tell you that, Kagome-chan?”
“Uh-huh,” the child nodded. “He looked all pale and I could see the Goshinboku behind him, but it was Daddy! He said ‘K-chan, tell your mother I’m sorry, but that I have to go’. An’ then he told me to be a good girl an’ take care of you an’ grampa.” Kagome tilted her head, her shale-blue eyes filled with confusion. “Where’s he going, Mama?”
But Shiori seemed not to have heard the question. Her honey-brown eyes, wide in shock, stared at the child, unfocused. Then her body began to shake as she lowered her head to Kagome’s shoulder and started to sob.
“He’s going on vacation, darling,” she whispered brokenly. “A permanent vacation.”
Authors Notes~ So, did you like? And don’t worry if you’re utterly confused – the next coming chapters will answer everything.
Okay, so chapter 1 will confuse you even more but 2 & 3 should answer alllllllllll your questions.
Well, some of them anyway.
Terms:
. Shiori: White
. Higurashi: Sunset
. Himitsu: Secret (So basically Higurashi Himitsu means
“Sunset Secret”. Don’t ask, but there is a reason.)
. youkai: literally, it’s a magical creature with a tendency to do evil things – in the fic it’s used to denote a “demon”
. –chan – a suffix usually used when talking to children and close (female) friends
Cultural Note: It is considered bad luck for the straps of a new sandal to break in Japan. It’s also bad luck if a crack is made in a teacup, but I’m sure it’s not considered as such in the circumstances this fic has presented it under.
Actually, I wasn’t supposed to post this until I had the whole series at least written out on paper so that I could post a chapter once a week. But never fear! If I attempt to lag Mel will make sure to point out the good… “Reasons” for me to continue this fic. >.< This happens to be my first completely AU IY fic. And trust me…it’s weird. ^.^
You can e-mail me at [email protected] or [email protected] for compliments, flames, death threats…etc. etc.
IY doesn’t belong to me but the IYC and (Heaven forbid) the IYE does, along with their respective agents.