This will loosely follow the entire Inuyasha storyline from Keara’s point of view. Disclaimer: I do not own or manufacture or produce Inuyasha in any form. All rights go to their respectful owners. I simply own Keara.
’One after another demons in groups and hoards charge at her non-stop. She is beautiful, but she is fierce and will never give up or give in, and with her sword at her side she’s near invincible. She bleeds from wounds all over her body—she’s no immortal—but she fights in this war like a goddess. I live her war between purity and evil, between priestess and demons. Every night I experience her fire but long for her want for freedom that she can never have. Her soul is stuck in a sphere that surrounds us with a purplish aura, forever… In a never ending battle…’
I open my eyes slowly as the images from my dream begin to fade into streams of warm sunlight. They beam through slightly open slits due to mishandling of the black curtains that cover the large window at my side—the light washes the room eerily; just like my dream.
’Always the same dream… every night…’
Textbooks from a long night of studying and working, lie scattered across the hardwood floor below; reminding me of the shoe box project I have to bring to a fellow classmate’s house in just fifteen minutes. It is of a diagram on DNA and sits, completed, on my desk across the table. It’s a conjoined project. My partner did some of the diagram a few nights prior, and I finished up last night.
I sit up slowly, groaning quietly when my stiff joints crack and pop. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep since I can remember, and I really wish I didn’t have to sleep at all. I throw my legs off the side of my single sized bed and take a stand, stretching and popping my arms while the waves of my black hair tickle down my back.
Grabbing the school uniform at the end of the bed, I take a moment to look over the pristine white cloth and the green accents that follow the edges of the neck and wrists. I can’t count how many schools I’ve gone to throughout my life. The number is always just out of reach. I ever made any friends. I ever remembered any teachers. This should sadden me, should fill me with some remorse, regret or even pity. There is nothing. I have always been blanketed in apathy my entire life.
This is something I should really concentrate on; especially since I lost count of how many families I’ve been passed along too, and yet, I feel nothing for this either. Not the smallest of feelings.
I was no troubled child. Never caused problems or got into trouble—I just have this thing. My counselor believes I must have some sort of mood disorder because I never… I never feel emotion.
Every foster family I’ve been with noticed my bizarre lack of everything, I’m practically a statue. Other than frowning occasionally, my face and body doesn’t express much of anything; and deep down inside, if I could describe any feelings, would be emptiness. Hollow. Soul-less.
Sixteen years old and I have been held back a year from school just because one foster family truly felt I was cursed but it just turns out, as my counselor stated, I am just mentally ill—we just don’t know from what—but that didn’t comfort them. They shipped me off a week after.
I glance around at the emptiness of my room; no pictures decorate the walls, no colorful furniture or personal. Just a bed, desk, textbooks and two individual bags. One for clothes and another for school.
Maybe I am mentally strange. After all, I have prepared myself for another closed door.
I guess it’s a whatever.
Throwing my school bag over my shoulder and grabbing the DNA project, I head out of the apartment and to my next destination before school.
The Higurashi Shrine.
A tall red and white torii gate stands in-between me and the Higurashi Shrine’s stairs. It stares down at me, challenging me to the many steps to come that years of gym haven’t prepared me for. Up above where the shrine is, I can just barely make out the top of a large tree whose shadow casts darkness over a few houses to my right. I can’t imagine how tall it’d be when I am up close.
Holding the diagram closer, I take the last few steps towards the torii gate. Faintly, my heart beats faster and faster as I get closer. At first I think that maybe it is just nerves; but I don’t know how nerves are supposed to feel. So I consider it is a heart attack coming. This also doesn’t faze me.
Sighing, I pause for just a moment to catch my breath, thinking that maybe this second of a break can slow down the hummingbird’s wings of my heart. Before taking another step, I close my eyes briefly, a long shiver quivers my body. My arms lift without my control, the diagram flies out from my hands and suddenly, as I open my eyes I feel my entire body thrust forward towards the Torii gate without my instruction.
“No, no, no!” I shout, as if this can prevent what is happening. But my body continues forward, my legs numb to the movements as I am plummeting towards the stone stairs ahead of me. Before I pass the gate, I close my eyes yet again, this time waiting for the collision of stone against body.
A second passes—another. No impact.
My body doesn’t break.