The Vigil

An Inuyasha Fanfiction by Aino-kaachan

Disclaimer: The Inuyasha series and all associated characters are sole property of Takahashi Rumiko-sensei, Shogakukan Inc. and Sunrise, and I'm just borrowing them. This story, however, is a product of the author's imagination and should be respected as such.
Dedication: This story is respectfully dedicated to Kylara-san, and owes much to her wonderful article on Kikyô. Thank you for speaking up for this most complex, intriguing character.
Rating: PG
Author's Note: I'm back with another one-shot, this time a Kikyô-centered one. This is partially manga-, partially anime-based, as I generally like the manga Kikyô more, but the flashback sequence in episode 15 beats the manga version 10-0. And it seems Loreena McKennitt again speaks to me in the voice of an enigmatic female character, but Dante's Prayer is easily the most beautiful love song on this green Earth, so who is complaining... Enjoy.

The mountain rose before me
The deep well of desire
And the fountain of forgiveness
Beyond the ice and the fire

-- Loreena McKennitt, Dante's Prayer
 

The world has grown still. As I now walk this earth, clothed in the semblance of flesh, I seem untouched by time and change. I see, scent, touch and hear, but the weave of reality flows and shimmers past me, excluding me. I am not a creature of time any longer. Is that not what the monk said to me, the one who tried to send me back to the beyond?

Yet I have changed. The woman I was perished from her wound over fifty winters ago. She was a miko, one given to the gods, and by the gods given to the people, so that she might be their shield, their strength, in the face of the unknown powers of the earth, against the voices in the night.

Now I have become one of those walkers in darkness instead. Yes, I suppose there is a certain irony in the thought. Not that everyone sees me in that way. I still retain my spiritual powers, and there are those who need my help. This world is still one of war and bloodshed, and the most dangerous demons inhabit other places than the nighttime darkness around the houses.

I lend a hand where I am able, stay for as long as the people will have me, and wait for the others in this game to finish their manoeuvres first. Time, as things stand, is one thing that I have.

These thoughts occupy me as I weave my way through the undergrowth, towards the soft tang of woodsmoke and the source of the fireglow that flickers on the rough bark of the trees. I have sent the Shinidama-chuu away, and a ward erases every trace of my presence even though the dry leaves rustle beneath my sandals. The trees part, reluctantly allowing me to step past their sheltering boughs.

Whispering a word of power under my breath, I alight on the branch of a sprawling maple tree, only a leap's distance from the camp that has been set on a glade in the woods.

I was right. Once again our paths appear to be about to cross. And somehow, I would wish to avoid the confrontation. The time has not come yet. Knowing that, I will be satisfied to only observe this time. Knowing that, I am glad that I took the time to prepare the ward of stealth. Not even the keenest demon senses can pierce the shield.

And so, Inuyasha's amber eyes pass me as if I were merely another shadow among the foliage. He perches in another maple across the clearing, keeping watch over his small band of companions. It seems to me that they are truly significant to him, these humans whom he once thought to be weak and vulnerable. Kaede was right: he has changed, as I have changed.

My eyes shift to the girl, Kagome, sitting beneath the tree. She is dozing off, and I can see how Inuyasha's gaze lingers on her before returning to scouring the vicinity.

My soul may have been reborn into her body, but she will never be me, any more than I am or will be her. I retain some shard of my soul, but I have to nourish the magically created husk that is my body with the souls of others. Such is the price exacted by Urasue's spell, the price that I must pay to stay in a world that is mine no longer.

I can discern a shimmering of holy power within the girl -- some vestige of my own spiritual ability? Or a gift of her own, born from the strange land and time she comes from? Perhaps both. I know not. I can also see how Inuyasha's heart reaches out to her, and I know, like he knows, that one of these days, he will have to make his choice.

"If my life is yours, then your life is also mine." He named my life as his. And I will not let anyone else than myself end his life -- I followed him into death once, so this time I will be the one to lead him into the beyond, if it is so decided.

Such a short time the capricious gods saw fit to give us. One turn of the seasons, no more, he prowled through the woodlands round the village, biding his time, attempting to reach the Shikon no Tama. Then I would come, and chase him away with enchanted arrows, but I never wounded him seriously, nor drove him further off than the edge of the forest. As autumn slowly slid into winter, his tries became more half-hearted, less determined, and so did my efforts in thwarting him.

It became almost a game for us, a battle of wits -- mischief for two who never were allowed to play. That much I understood about his past; he was the half-blooded child of human and yôkai, an union spurned by the kins of both. I had been raised bow and arrow in hand, a war-priestess, a guardian, honing my abilities to work for the good of my people. I was respected and revered, but the price was steep. I was supposed to suppress my own emotions and desires, to remain pure and untainted so I could cleanse the jewel of its evil.

Inuyasha was the only person around whom I could let my mask slip. And as time flowed onwards, he appeared in my proximity more and more frequently, a faint, protective shadow on the fringes of my vision. The villagers did not trust him, fearful of the alien blood in him that they perceived as a sign of impurity. However, from our rare talks, often across an expanse of meadow where I sat while he crouched in a nearby tree, I began drawing conclusions of my own. Because of his heritage, no one wanted him; if he was to make a place for himself, he could only take it by force. That was why he wanted the jewel, I would guess: to be a full-blooded yôkai, able to earn acceptance among his people.

I was separated from my people by my duty towards them, and by their respect towards me. Although our situations were almost reversed with regard to one another, I saw myself in him.

Thus, even as his hostility and contempt towards me turned into gruff curiosity and the first hints of friendliness, I felt myself being drawn to him. He treated me like a person, not like a holy figure incapable of error and, yes, feeling.

Did I love him? I must have. The betrayal would not have hurt so deeply otherwise. It was a hesitant emotion, fragile as a flower bud unfolding into sunlight, blossoming precariously on the cusp of an abyss of doubt, mistrust and conflict. He was a half-demon. I was a shrine maiden. We stood a world apart from each other.

But we did span the rift, we did come together. In time, we might have been able to nurture the bond that formed between us. We were both shackled with suspicion, but we did create something that could have unlocked those chains.

Inuyasha... you were ready to become human for me, to free me of the Shikon no Tama. What about now? Would you join me in death, for that is the only way we can be together now? I know that the Kikyô I once was would have lived her life with you. But Naraku struck down all that, and now I am bound to a false life by bones and earth and demon magic. And you... you have others by your side, others who have seen through your barriers, others who are healing your heart. You and I can never go back to what we were.

Perhaps the only thing we still have in common is our hatred for Naraku. We both seek to destroy him, each of us using their own ways to gain that end. As for myself, I am playing a waiting game. That is why you will never know I have been here, watching you and your comrades. The time to move is not now.

The moon is gliding in the arms of the clouds above the treetops, throwing long blue shadows across the forest. I am growing weary -- fueling the protective ward requires energy, and there is no life force save for the dead souls in me. I will have to depart soon lest I reveal myself, and that is not my intention. But perhaps the echo, dream or memory of a long-lost love is tethering me, for I find myself unwilling to leave before I must. I would prefer to keep vigil over him for a while longer before I have to let him go.

So I stay, and I watch, and I wait.
 

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miko: Shinto priestess or shrine maiden; literally means "god-child"
Shikon no Tama: either "Jewel of the Four Souls" or "Jewel of the Soul Base", I think, but I like the Japanese way of writing this
Shinidama-chuu: "dead soul insects"; Kikyô's servant yôkai that bring her the dead souls she needs to fuel her artificial body
yôkai: demon, or a monster of magical nature; the term is a lot broader than "demon" would suggest, encompassing all sorts of mythical beasts, but "demon" might be the best English translation

Thank you for reading.
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First draft 8th of April 2002
Aino-kaachan
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