Authors Note: HIYA!! This is my third Inuyasha Fanfiction. First a
couple of warnings (and couple warnings)!
First Warning: This is a minor AU. Got a problem with no time travel, no demons tearing at chibbi-shippo's flesh, and no Kagome as she spazs over school? Find another fanfic. I know that there are some really good ones out there.
Second Warning: MINOR OOC! Sesshomaru is the main one, but it's not too bad. Shippo might seem a little off, but it's only because he is maturer. He's still the same loyal, proud, slightly naive fox we all love. Not to mention his parents are dead. Miroku is only a perv with Sango, Inuyasha is a demented perv with Kagome and certain characters are on different sides. Please, I try to keep characters in character, but it can't always be done as well as the anime.
Fourth Warning: Inuyasha/Kagome; Miroku/Sango; Sesshomaru/Rin (no kiddie lovein'-Rin is an adult); Souta/Hitomi; Kohaku/Kana; Shippo/Souten
Wow, that's a lot of warnings. Well, on with the FANfic.
Chapter one: Lonely
I was watching the mirror again. When I had first arrived at that place, I used to think I could look through it to see onto the other side. I can't quite remember what I thought was there at the time. Perhaps, and I'm fairly sure I'm supposing correctly, perhaps I was under the delusion that if I could reach through that mirror, I could reach another reality. Yes. That's it; that was what I used to think was on the other side. I do remember sitting-standing is a bit hard if your muscles are weaker than usual and you can't use your hands-in front of the mirror. I would close my eyes and imagine pressing my hands through the glass and stepping into another world. (Somehow, my hands were always freed in my mind, though I can't remember the last time my hands were free and I was lucid at the same time.)
I would spend hours in that place and I would imagine things I only remember in past memories. Beautiful things. Like colors. I would imagine so many colors. Colors that I haven't seen in years, like blue and green, even pink. Everything in my dream world would have a different color, but nothing would be white. Even snow or my hair, in my imagination, would be a different color.
In my mind I would enter the mirror and walk through a field. A field filled with grass. Green grass, brown grass, yellow grass; pink grass, blue grass, multicolored grass. All different types of grass and flowers! And I would walk until I could see my old house, complete with the patching in one of the sidewalls, from when my brother accidentally ran his car into it. And when I got closer I would see my mother and Sesshomaru and I would run over to them, a child again. They would smile and we would go into my childhood home to eat lunch. Nothing fancy. Really, I never dream of luxurious soups and expensive fish courses. All I would love to eat is some ramen again. Anyway, after eating with my brother and mother, we would go down to the small pond we used to have in our neighborhood. Sometimes, Sesshomaru and I would play ball, or sometimes I would climb trees and imagine that I could climb all the way up to the stars.
But then, someone would enter the room, and I would be alone again. The mirror world would disappear and everything would be the same. The same white walls. The same food. The same wardens. The same activities, mindless day after mindless day after mindless day. Sometimes, I used to be frustrated at how long I had been here. Everyday, I used to ask the wardens how long it had been, but after a while, I really didn't care. When you've been imprisoned for years with no end in sight, what difference does a day or a month make? None really, I can promise you that. In fact, when I stopped asking how long I had been locked away, I simply stopped talking all together.
So, fifteen years of silence and twenty years of captivity. That's how long it had taken me. It had taken me twenty years to realize that there was no dream world on the other end of the mirror. My dream world was just that. A dream, existing only in my mind, where only I can access it. But I didn't. I didn't look for dreams any more. I only searched for happiness and that only existed on the other side of my mirror, where I just knew there was a room. And that room led to a hallway, which led to a door which led to the outside.
And after twenty years, I knew that my mirror was their spy window, which could possible have been the reason I was spitting at it.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I was sitting on the window side of a single-sided mirror, rubbing my head. The migraines were coming back in full force. I was watching my new patient spit at me. How he knew I was there, I had no idea, but I wished he would stop. It was absolutely vulgar. I reached into my yellow backpack (It was really a messenger bag, but whatever), and searched for my pills. I took out my newspaper and threw it onto the table to get it out of the way. I had just finished reading the front-page article about the murder of a politician and his wife. Apparently, their 15-year-old son had been hidden by his mother and had witnessed the entire, brutal murder of his parents from his hiding place. Even thinking about horrible events like that worsened my headache.
Suppressing a scream, I pushed my car keys out of the way and pulled out a bottle of aspirin. Emergency doctors equipment, for dealing with patient's pain and your own headaches. Dumping two into my hand, I swallowed them without water and looked back at my new patient. He was still spitting. Turning my back on him, I opened his file and skipped the basic medical description. I really didn't care. I pulled out a note pad and a pen from my backpack and began to scribble notes.
"Patients name: Inuyasha Kotaishi. Family: Brother; Parents deceased. Age: 35, institutionalized since the age of fifteen. Diagnosis: multiple personality disorder." I read. "Huh? That's odd. Most people with multiple personalities aren't institutionalized. Why is he?"
"Because he is unstable." A woman's voice explained and I looked up to see that Sango had just entered the room.
"Hey. What are you doing here?" I asked.
"I came to look for you. I thought I'd remind you that you're scheduled for a session in less than five minutes. That and Patient Genkaku is hallucinating again."
"He called you Koharu, didn't he."
"Indeed." Sango nodded sadly. "I haven't even got the heart to remind him he's divorced."
"Sango, maybe you're getting too emotionally involved."
"What? What do you mean by that?"
"Sango, I know you're good friends with Miroku."
"Of course I am. I knew him since....... before he came here."
"Yes, but maybe you're inability to hurt Miroku by telling him that he's divorced and no longer married to Koharu, is keeping him here. Your friendship is definitely effecting your work."
"It's not effecting my work." Sango snapped. "Besides, you shouldn't diagnose people who are not one of your patients and you've never even meet in a doctor to patient setting!"
"Sango." I began, but she was all ready on a roll.
"You don't understand, Kagome! You just don't understand! He wasn't always like this! He used to be a priest who enjoyed helping other people! He and Koharu were trying to have a child! He wanted to travel to Canada some day!" Sango yelled, her breathing ragged. "And then it all began to change! It was slow so no one noticed. We even tried to pass it off as absent-mindedness, but that wasn't it! He started to mistake me for Koharu more and more. Sometimes I would be Sango and sometimes I would be his wife! He started to see people with tails and statues spoke to him! He even saw an enormous dog walk down the street once! It was awful! It's impossible to work with him or know him without feeling sorry for him! But there's nothing more. I swear."
"All right. If you say so." I sighed. "Well, I'll be going to my session now."
Glancing over my shoulder, Sango wiped her eyes and took a good look at my patient.
"Would you like me to sedate him? Most doctors prefer that."
"No, that is unnecessary; he's all ready in a straight jacket."
"Kagome! You really don't understand anything today. Look, he isn't your average patient. Inuyasha goes through doctors the way you and I go through aspirin! Why do you think he's been here for twenty years?"
"No. I will not have Patient Kotaishi sedated." I frowned, reaffirming my previous statement. I winced as I heard my patient spit at the one-way mirror again. "Though, perhaps you could get him a glass of water. I'm sure he's dehydrated by now."
First Warning: This is a minor AU. Got a problem with no time travel, no demons tearing at chibbi-shippo's flesh, and no Kagome as she spazs over school? Find another fanfic. I know that there are some really good ones out there.
Second Warning: MINOR OOC! Sesshomaru is the main one, but it's not too bad. Shippo might seem a little off, but it's only because he is maturer. He's still the same loyal, proud, slightly naive fox we all love. Not to mention his parents are dead. Miroku is only a perv with Sango, Inuyasha is a demented perv with Kagome and certain characters are on different sides. Please, I try to keep characters in character, but it can't always be done as well as the anime.
Fourth Warning: Inuyasha/Kagome; Miroku/Sango; Sesshomaru/Rin (no kiddie lovein'-Rin is an adult); Souta/Hitomi; Kohaku/Kana; Shippo/Souten
Wow, that's a lot of warnings. Well, on with the FANfic.
Chapter one: Lonely
I was watching the mirror again. When I had first arrived at that place, I used to think I could look through it to see onto the other side. I can't quite remember what I thought was there at the time. Perhaps, and I'm fairly sure I'm supposing correctly, perhaps I was under the delusion that if I could reach through that mirror, I could reach another reality. Yes. That's it; that was what I used to think was on the other side. I do remember sitting-standing is a bit hard if your muscles are weaker than usual and you can't use your hands-in front of the mirror. I would close my eyes and imagine pressing my hands through the glass and stepping into another world. (Somehow, my hands were always freed in my mind, though I can't remember the last time my hands were free and I was lucid at the same time.)
I would spend hours in that place and I would imagine things I only remember in past memories. Beautiful things. Like colors. I would imagine so many colors. Colors that I haven't seen in years, like blue and green, even pink. Everything in my dream world would have a different color, but nothing would be white. Even snow or my hair, in my imagination, would be a different color.
In my mind I would enter the mirror and walk through a field. A field filled with grass. Green grass, brown grass, yellow grass; pink grass, blue grass, multicolored grass. All different types of grass and flowers! And I would walk until I could see my old house, complete with the patching in one of the sidewalls, from when my brother accidentally ran his car into it. And when I got closer I would see my mother and Sesshomaru and I would run over to them, a child again. They would smile and we would go into my childhood home to eat lunch. Nothing fancy. Really, I never dream of luxurious soups and expensive fish courses. All I would love to eat is some ramen again. Anyway, after eating with my brother and mother, we would go down to the small pond we used to have in our neighborhood. Sometimes, Sesshomaru and I would play ball, or sometimes I would climb trees and imagine that I could climb all the way up to the stars.
But then, someone would enter the room, and I would be alone again. The mirror world would disappear and everything would be the same. The same white walls. The same food. The same wardens. The same activities, mindless day after mindless day after mindless day. Sometimes, I used to be frustrated at how long I had been here. Everyday, I used to ask the wardens how long it had been, but after a while, I really didn't care. When you've been imprisoned for years with no end in sight, what difference does a day or a month make? None really, I can promise you that. In fact, when I stopped asking how long I had been locked away, I simply stopped talking all together.
So, fifteen years of silence and twenty years of captivity. That's how long it had taken me. It had taken me twenty years to realize that there was no dream world on the other end of the mirror. My dream world was just that. A dream, existing only in my mind, where only I can access it. But I didn't. I didn't look for dreams any more. I only searched for happiness and that only existed on the other side of my mirror, where I just knew there was a room. And that room led to a hallway, which led to a door which led to the outside.
And after twenty years, I knew that my mirror was their spy window, which could possible have been the reason I was spitting at it.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I was sitting on the window side of a single-sided mirror, rubbing my head. The migraines were coming back in full force. I was watching my new patient spit at me. How he knew I was there, I had no idea, but I wished he would stop. It was absolutely vulgar. I reached into my yellow backpack (It was really a messenger bag, but whatever), and searched for my pills. I took out my newspaper and threw it onto the table to get it out of the way. I had just finished reading the front-page article about the murder of a politician and his wife. Apparently, their 15-year-old son had been hidden by his mother and had witnessed the entire, brutal murder of his parents from his hiding place. Even thinking about horrible events like that worsened my headache.
Suppressing a scream, I pushed my car keys out of the way and pulled out a bottle of aspirin. Emergency doctors equipment, for dealing with patient's pain and your own headaches. Dumping two into my hand, I swallowed them without water and looked back at my new patient. He was still spitting. Turning my back on him, I opened his file and skipped the basic medical description. I really didn't care. I pulled out a note pad and a pen from my backpack and began to scribble notes.
"Patients name: Inuyasha Kotaishi. Family: Brother; Parents deceased. Age: 35, institutionalized since the age of fifteen. Diagnosis: multiple personality disorder." I read. "Huh? That's odd. Most people with multiple personalities aren't institutionalized. Why is he?"
"Because he is unstable." A woman's voice explained and I looked up to see that Sango had just entered the room.
"Hey. What are you doing here?" I asked.
"I came to look for you. I thought I'd remind you that you're scheduled for a session in less than five minutes. That and Patient Genkaku is hallucinating again."
"He called you Koharu, didn't he."
"Indeed." Sango nodded sadly. "I haven't even got the heart to remind him he's divorced."
"Sango, maybe you're getting too emotionally involved."
"What? What do you mean by that?"
"Sango, I know you're good friends with Miroku."
"Of course I am. I knew him since....... before he came here."
"Yes, but maybe you're inability to hurt Miroku by telling him that he's divorced and no longer married to Koharu, is keeping him here. Your friendship is definitely effecting your work."
"It's not effecting my work." Sango snapped. "Besides, you shouldn't diagnose people who are not one of your patients and you've never even meet in a doctor to patient setting!"
"Sango." I began, but she was all ready on a roll.
"You don't understand, Kagome! You just don't understand! He wasn't always like this! He used to be a priest who enjoyed helping other people! He and Koharu were trying to have a child! He wanted to travel to Canada some day!" Sango yelled, her breathing ragged. "And then it all began to change! It was slow so no one noticed. We even tried to pass it off as absent-mindedness, but that wasn't it! He started to mistake me for Koharu more and more. Sometimes I would be Sango and sometimes I would be his wife! He started to see people with tails and statues spoke to him! He even saw an enormous dog walk down the street once! It was awful! It's impossible to work with him or know him without feeling sorry for him! But there's nothing more. I swear."
"All right. If you say so." I sighed. "Well, I'll be going to my session now."
Glancing over my shoulder, Sango wiped her eyes and took a good look at my patient.
"Would you like me to sedate him? Most doctors prefer that."
"No, that is unnecessary; he's all ready in a straight jacket."
"Kagome! You really don't understand anything today. Look, he isn't your average patient. Inuyasha goes through doctors the way you and I go through aspirin! Why do you think he's been here for twenty years?"
"No. I will not have Patient Kotaishi sedated." I frowned, reaffirming my previous statement. I winced as I heard my patient spit at the one-way mirror again. "Though, perhaps you could get him a glass of water. I'm sure he's dehydrated by now."