Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha.
She cracked an egg, watching as it sizzled in the pan, turning the clear to white as the seconds passed before her breakfast was finished and ready to consume. She took the spatula and slid it under the egg, placing it on a round plate, next to the scooped , steamy rice and two slices of bacon. She heaved a sigh, setting down her plate and picked lethargically at the meal, simultaneously reading that morning’s paper, looking through the politic section.
Light classical music rang in the background, soothing her for the day to come, calming her emotions. Another sigh echoed in the house, the stifling emptiness of what once was laughter and chatter made her shoulder heavy and her eyes blurry. She was alone once more, the things from the past hanging thickly in the air and only in her mind.
It must be her fate to live this life, alone and without a single person who remembers the past in correct details and not myths or legends. Many time she wanted to correct professors from schools and universities and during one excavation near the slopes of Northern Japan she was forced to curb her tongue when a certain story garnered her temper.
The digital clock blared seven-thirty, signaling that she still had another thirty minutes before she had to head out for the airport for her next excavation in China with a group of college students. After placing her plate away and taking a shower, she stood in front of the mirror, her wrinkled visual showing plainly as her lightened blue eyes held a lack of passionate energy to life and her once fiery temper. With age, the person mellows, and her fire dimmed down to a decent level throughout the years.
Life did not go how she planned. Dreams of ice cream trips and days of a cherubic face with wisps dark-brown locks and deep blue eyes holding her hand were dashed away when reality hit. She placed her hand against the small curve of her stomach, absentmindedly stoking the flesh. It made her feel inadequate as a woman, the lost of such a wonderful experience nearly broke her.
But she replaced the feeling with work, nearly never home and always overseas in different countries, trying to busy herself from depression. Finding many artifacts from a time before lured her into tranquility and it brought the memories of the past to life. A smile dinted her lips, thinking of someone particularly. A certain silver-haired fellow with dashing eyes that rivaled the shade of a setting sun, so golden and pure. It has been a while since she last thought of him as her schedule was busy and herself fixated on her work, and it was painful.
When the well closed all those years ago, she was forced to move on, but she haven’t forgotten none of her friends as the days turned to seasons and those into decades. She even kept a small picture of her friends in her wallet, to remember what they went through and to know what she experienced wasn’t a fantasy. The alarm on her phone blazed into the quiet space, dissipating the trance she entered.
Picking up her luggage, she left the house, locking the door behind her and wandering across the stone pavement to the back road that led to the main street. She stopped at Goshinboku on her way to the road, peering at the particular spot where a certain half-demon was pinned with an arrow centuries ago and the fate that led them to journey together. They met many interesting people along the way and it saddened her that she was cast out from the freedom of the Feudal Era. She knew she hoped too much and in the end, it devastated her, the well letting her future with the past to writher and die.
She shook her head, walking away, not wanting to be late as she could stay hours staring at that tree, lost in her world.
Down the road, she joined the main sidewalk, heading towards the subway. Pulling out a picture, she stared at it, taking in the vivid colors of the greenery behind the duo that stood staring into the camera, one smiling while the other held a slight frown on his face, his confusion clearly visible. A soft, but sad chuckle escaped her lips, clearly remembering the demon’s reluctance of a device he never seen before that day. A great deal of persuasion on her part finally made the male comfortable enough about having his picture taken.
Though she missed her friends, this particular being, despite his stoic and cold nature, was who she missed the most. Too busy into her recollections, she failed to noticed the person in front of her.
The small, flimsy picture escaped her grip as she fell to the ground as did a light object. Her hip ached when she landed on her rear, causing her to groan.
“I apologize, I didn‘t see you.” The gentleman stood before her, a masculine hand reaching for her and in his other hand held his broken cell phone. She grasped it with her wrinkled one marveling at the smooth yet callous surface of the man‘s hand, a twinge went through her as she thought of the years that have gone by that caused her hand to look like this. She let the man pull her up.
“It’s quite alright, I wasn’t paying any attention.” Kagome reassured the man, but as she looked at him after dusting herself off, she froze. Long locks, the color of obsidian, blew in the wind while honey brown eyes held a bit of concern and maybe a flash of familiarity, but it disappeared after a second so she wasn’t sure.
“And you have dropped this.” The man handed her the picture, but he stood a second staring at it, puzzlement clear in his eyes. She assumed it was from the man with the strange colorings.
“Thank you.” Reaching for it, however for that one short moment something happened. The man before her transformed for a second, the same brilliant markings and the silvered locks. She was certain her mouth was gapped open, and he probably was thinking she was senile or something, staring at him.
“You have a good day now.” And with a small smile, the man walked away, his coat flapping with the wind as his hair curled around in its place.
Maybe she was dreaming, or maybe it was real. It could be her imagination, but she couldn’t make that her reason. He was the one in the picture, the same demon from before, from five hundred years ago.
A sniffle broke through, from the wind or realization, as she stared at the retreating back that blended with the crowd a minute later.
He was alive, and from what she guessed, was thriving in the modern era. He changed it seemed, becoming more open with his emotions; whoever have done that, did a beautiful job of letting the demon become comfortable with expressing himself. For a fleeting moment, she became a bit dishearten of the idea of someone else making him happy, but she quickly dashed that thought away, age and her own personality coming into play.
Though their moment was brief, she felt at peace, knowing that there was someone in this world that knew of the struggle, someone that she had fallen for many decades ago.
Grabbing her luggage once more, she walked away, knowing they would never encounter one another after this one time, but feeling content for once.
At this point they were blissful strangers, her love for the demon becoming a wonderful nostalgia, one that she would relish for the last few years of her life to come. A watery smile graced her face as she looked at the picture one more time, stroking the aged texture before putting it away in her jacket, safe-kept from anymore mishaps.
You will never know this, but I’m glad I ran into you Sesshomaru.