Disclaimer – I do not own any of the Inuyasha characters.
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She paints her face to hide her face. Her eyes are deep water. It is not for Geisha to want. It is not for Geisha to feel. Geisha is an artist of the floating world. She dances, she sings, she entertains you – whatever you want. The rest is shadows, the rest is secret. Memoirs of a Geisha.
Much of her childhood had been spent in the shadow of a mirror's reflection, watching. There was hardly a memory she had that didn't bear the sight of her sister flowing in a silk kimono, her face painted that stark white known only to Geisha. Most were not simply handed the life that she had been. Their mother, Kikyo's and her own, had been put into that life by a sale, and it was from that change the two of them were created. From the time she could walk, Kagome had spent each day learning the skills that would make her a Geisha as respected as her big sister; never knowing that in one day the entirety of her life would change dramatically.
The many layers of her elaborate kimono hindered the speed that she was attempting to take in flight. Her slim fingers clutched at the trailing fabric, tangling the silk beneath the crescents of her nails as her bare feet pounded the chilling ground with each stride. Buildings were burning all around her fleeing form; animals crying for a savior from the shelters that were falling apart upon them. The soft murmurs that managed to escape her lips were stifled by the roar of battle going on around her, but the tears that stained her cheeks alongside the charcoal were more than enough to express her sadness. Somewhere behind her, she could make out the growls of the beasts that pursued her, and although fear was what initially produced her departure, she was confident there was a substantial distance separating them. The fleeting image of a crimson kimono tore through the wall of her heart that had only just been built as she realized that the owner of the garment had already fallen to the snow in defeat. "Kikyo!" She cried, stumbling once over her own feet before she was able to make it to her sister's side. Her filthy fingertips touched at the contours of her sister's pale face, smudging the soft makeup that had once heightened the beauty in her face. "Kikyo," she whispered, the sound of her name drowned out by the war playing out around them. The elder sister cracked her sleepy lids, pursing her lips as she attempted to whisper her little sister's name. Kikyo's hand shakily rose from the depths of the snow, cupping the shape of Kagome's cheek through the smoke and winter. "Little sister," she managed to say; her tears shattering the strength that once resonated from her voice. Kagome shuddered. It wasn't from the cold. She could feel the warmth seeping out of her big sister's pores, life leaving the brown eyes that once watched her with such a cool resolve. The young girl was prepared to lay down in the snow with her sister and follow suit in death. Her stomach was tied up in knots; a sense of helplessness overwhelming any hope of being able to keep the demons of the underworld from taking her away. Kagome lay her head down upon Kikyo's chest, nestling her childish face between her ample breasts partially exposed from the tattered silk. "Don't leave me." She cooed, brushing two of her fingers across Kikyo's elevated wrist.
If Kikyo had answered her, Kagome would never know for sure. Her sister's hand had been smoothing the tangles in her sister's once silky hair when those tendrils were made into a trap of sorts. Grimy fingers twisted through the silky strands, snatching Kagome from the ground by grip of her scalp to her aching feet. The girl released a strangled cry, clutching fearfully at the hand that held her out at arm's length from its owner's body. "What should we do with the other one?" A gruff voice asked from behind a mask. "Just leave her. She's not going to make it." Those words would stay with Kagome for the rest of her life. No matter what she would do, should she live forever, she couldn't get the image of her sister dying in the snow nor the words of the soldier out of her head. Perhaps it was that simple trait that kept her from recalling how her first night away from her home occurred or maybe it was shock, as someone kept pointing out, that made her feel so hollow and forgetful. Whichever it was didn't matter in the end, however. For when realization finally struck her, they had come too far for her to figure out what direction they'd even taken to begin with.
There were other captives on the unknown journey with her, but she hadn't taken notice until that moment. It was a menagerie of sorts that consisted of ancients and children alike; none of whom she had come to know very well in her fifteen years of life. None of them were bound and shackled like she'd always been told they would be if the demon war had reached their village, but that wasn't to say they were being given the royal treatment either. Their captors didn't really seem to care if they continued walking together or if they died in the know, which was unbelievable for Kagome to wrap her mind around. Though much of their initial journey had been taken in silence, the captives began to softly discuss the meaning of their capture amongst themselves, and a small shred of hope was left lingering between them of being rescued or escaping. While she would've been more than happy to join in with the reassuring conversation, Kagome found herself too far away from it to do so. Her young mind drifted still from the details of that morning to the sight of her sister being left to pass in the snow, which is where her focal point was when a soft voice met her lips. "Hey, your name is Kagome, right?"
The girl's name was Sango. She was the oldest daughter of a powerful demon slayer who had taken the village as his home just a year or so after his wife birthed the girl. Her mother had lost her life in the battle with a demon just a month before they settled there, and that, he claimed, was the reason he'd chosen to settle there. After some time, in only what could be perceived as being rude, Kagome finally summed up the ability to answer the girl. "Yes. Do you know where they are taking us?" The demon slayer girl studied Kagome carefully, sizing her up in just a few seconds worth of investigation before offering an answer. "No one knows. All we've been able to figure out is that they're members of the Southern wolf demon tribe. They won't tell us anything about why they chose to attack our village or even why we've been spared."
It was the nature of their conversation that first provoked her to take a better look at their surroundings. Although she hadn't spent very much time in the area around her village, she was still able to decipher that they had crossed a great distance in just a day's complete travel. That achievement alone should have given her pleasure, and it might have if she had been able to ignore the sight of smoke pluming to the heavens just ahead. The massive trail of smoke could only mean one of two things to her. Either they were coming up on another burning village like her own, or they were approaching the main encampment for the soldiers. The group of villagers, Kagome included, were led in huddled formation to the center of what she came to know as their camp, and it was there that she was able to absorb the sight of a man and woman.
Based on appearance alone, there seemed to be a substantial difference in age between the two. The man, whose hair had once been a illustrious black, had traded out the color for the softer tones of gray in his great age. A plate of armor was strung across his still broad chest, chain draping across his shoulders and rib cage to keep the hard material from falling free. Though no scars haunted the shape of him, it was quite evident he had seen many battles in his life as where his left arm should have been only three quarters of it remained. Evidently someone had hacked the limb from his body just three inches above his wrist, but that didn't make him appear any less threatening than he was. If anything it doubled the effect of the dangerous look he had about him. On the other hand, the woman at his side appeared to bear a style quite the opposite. Her large, green eyes held a certain softness that one might perceive as unbecoming from a woman of power, but that ideology didn't deter the gentle expression that rested on her elegant face. Unlike the man at her side, she was dressed in a layer of fur that's purpose was only to conceal and warm her slender body; as well as concealing the small bundle she cradled in the crook of her arm. "We brought the villagers as you requested, father." A young man said, stepping from the group of soldiers with a boldness that implied his royal stature. The dark tail that hung over the waist of the fur covering his hips flicked a bit as he came up on the woman, dropping his head to brush his cold lips across her warm, plump ones. The elder straightened himself up to get a better look at the ragged group of humans, and clearing his throat he finally graced them with his voice. "Separate them by stature. I want to see who you have presented me with."
Without speaking among themselves as expected, the soldiers set about the task of pulling aside those who had worked for their lives from those who hadn't, which left only one standing there for the higher ranks; Kagome. All eyes were trained on the girl, far from home, covered by the tattered remnants of what had been quite the elegant kimono. She was shaking violently but not from the cold, and her eyes had already begun to film over from the tears. Kagome had been the only one from the highest district to be spared, and it wasn't until then that she realized the son of this demon lord had been the one to snatch her up by her hair. "What is your name, girl?" The demon asked. "Higurashi, Kagome." She cheeped, inclining her head to stare at the ground as she shuffled anxiously from one foot to the other. "Higurashi, Kagome. The daughter of a Geisha and sister to Kikyo." He said, seeming to consider this information very carefully before continuing. "Nothing more than a pretty face that can pluck strings and wave a fan." He waved his hand a bit, flicking his fingers at two of the soldiers. "I have no use for you." The two soldiers he addressed buckled forward, one grabbing her by the arms as the other put a sword to her neck. Her knees instantly fell weak, her eyes squeezing shut tight as a strangled sound left her lips. Hot tears spilled down her cheeks as her bottom lip quivered, and were it not for the hands holding her up, she would've crumbled to the ground. Inwardly she was pleading with whatever god would listen to her, begging for a hero to come rescue her as she'd heard they would do in the fairy tales of her childhood. Everything was going far too fast. She couldn't breathe. Her mind was going blank, the world was going white, and then...
"I will speak for her!"