Kagome Who by ShadowsWeaver1

Kagome Who

Sometimes she wished she wasn’t Higurashi Kagome. Sometimes she just wished she could be someone else.

“Isn’t that her? You know, that girl that’s got that flesh eating disease?”

“Can’t be. Look at her. She doesn’t look sick. And if it was contagious, don’t you think they would keep her locked up or something?”

“You know, I heard it was cancer. Some weird genetic kind that the doctors don’t even know how to treat. I heard she’ll be dead by the end of the year.”

Great. Just great. Here she had slipped away into the furthest corner of the library just to escape all the rumors and gossip and have some time alone to catch up on her studies, and still it had found her. The girls were talking in whispers, using hard-covered books to shield their mouths and fingers as they giggled and pointed; but in the echoing quiet of the library, Kagome could hear ever word and every hurtful remark as clearly as if they were right beside her not down an isle and off one to the right.

Just ignore it, she tried to tell herself. But it was always easier said than done.

“Wonder why she’s even bothering with those books. I hear she’s got a free ride, that all the professors just give her a pass ‘cause she’s sick.”

“Tell me about it. Remember that Essay Response last week?”

“That stupid Warring States Assignment? Yeah, I totally bombed out on that one.”

“Yeah, everyone did. Even Tashi. And you know how she is about those things. But I heard that Kagome girl aced it!”

“No way!”

“Yeah, but what else? I saw Professor Chase talking to her after class. They didn’t know I was there, but I saw him put his hand on her shoulder all chummy-chummy like.”

“You didn’t.”

“With my own eyes, I swear it!”

“You don’t think she’s…?”

“How else could she have gotten the highest grade when she never comes to class?”

“I don’t know. But I’m sure it wasn’t anything like you’re thinking.”

“Yeah, but you don’t know for sure, do you? I bet if we got to look at that paper of hers it wouldn’t even come close to standing up to Tashi’s. Hell, mine was probably better that whatever She came up with.”

There was no end to it. If it wasn’t these gossiping girls directing their competitive animosity towards her, it was someone else making the comparisons, someone else saying that Kagome could never live up to an expectation, that she wasn’t good enough, fast enough, smart enough.

“Damnit, Kagome! Don’t you know nothing?! You can’t Dust a water youkai! It’ll only come back ten times worse as rain! You’re so stupid! Now we got to chase after the fucking thing when we Should be hunting for Naraku!”

“Lady Kagome, perhaps this task is better left to the Experienced demon hunters.”

“Kagome? Why don’t you just take a Break for a while? Inuyasha could always come back and get you if we get any good leads.”

“Kikyo would have known what to do.”

She worked so hard. So hard. And it just never seemed to be enough. If she studied and studied just to get a passing grade; they said that she had gotten it on her ‘free ride’ with the teachers. If she spent a week staying up to all hours of the night doing research and formatting and writing for something that she had a passion for; they said that she was ‘paying’ for it with her body. If she fought until she was battered and bleeding and exhausted both body and soul; they told her she was just getting in the way, slowing them down, not good enough. Not Kikyo.

“I don’t see what the big deal is. She’s not even pretty.”

“That’s the miko of the Shikon? It can’t be. She’s so plain.”

“They say she lives in a shrine. I guess all that time on her knees is really paying off.”

“No matter how you pray, miko, he will not be coming to save you.”

“Must be why Hojo can’t seem to get enough of her.”

“You really think he would have you if it were not for what he sees of me in your soul?”

“What a slut.”

“Pathetic.”

“Totally.”

“Stupid.”

“Maybe she really should just…”

“…Die.”

Kagome slammed her book shut. Miko or not, she was still only human. And she simply couldn’t take any more of this. Shoving her books into her bag, she stood and turned to walk purposefully down the isle where the girls had been talking. She could see them now, just as they could see her; and she saw in their tense and nervous expressions exactly what she had been hoping to see: Guilt. And a hint of fear.

But that wasn’t enough for these ones. Kagome had something else in mind for them.

She could see the skittish reactions from the girls. Three of them, all looking about ready to bolt for the door at any second. But Kagome focused herself, pulling up a warm, soothing, comforting aura to fill the room. The girls relaxed into it, not knowing that it was a false sense of security they were feeling, one imprinted there by the miko they did not know was a miko, by the girl that they did not know was never ill, by the being of power that they would never know possessed it.

She was smiling as she approached, the final touch on the illusion.

“You know,” she started; but as her words began, she stripped the aura of comfort away, leaving only the raw, terrifying spark of her anger to stab into these callous hearts. Her smile fell from her lips, her countenance shifting to a hard, uncompromising glare. “You should really find something better to do with your time than preying on the misfortune of others. Karma’s a Bitch, and she always, always, comes back to collect on her debts.”

Not waiting for a response, not really expecting them to be able to form one anyways, Kagome brushed past. As much as the words had stung, as much as the terrible inferences and implications had angered her, as much as she wished things could be different, she couldn’t hold any of it against them. After all, she was different. She stood out in a crowd. Higurashi Kagome always would.

But sometimes she wished she wasn’t Higurashi Kagome. Sometimes she wished she could be someone else. Someone like…Bob.

Not a very fitting name, sure; but it was common, and ordinary, and simple. And people would greet Bob and say ‘It’s nice to meet you.’ And they would mean it, because it was nice to meet Bob. Common, ordinary, simple Bob. No one expected anything from Bob. No one would think Bob wasn’t good enough or smart enough or strong enough or fast enough. Because Bob was just Bob. And it was nice to meet Bob.

And Bob would smile and say ‘It’s nice to meet you too.’ And Bob would be genuine. And they would smile back and think, ‘Boy, isn’t that Bob a great person. So nice and kind and plain and simple Bob.’ And they would go on their way, never thinking about Bob again, never talking about Bob behind her back, never saying horrible, hurtful things. Because Bob was good. And plain and simple and kind.

And Bob was not Higurashi Kagome.

How she wished, just for a day, that she could be Bob.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Hey, Yuka, check it out. Isn’t that Kagome?”

“What are you going on about?” Yuka asked irritably. She had been dancing, lost in the rhythm of the music as it pounded through the club. Swaying with the lights, her heart thudding to the beat; she had been lost in it, like a drug that filled her with euphoria. She wasn’t about to stop. She hardly paused to give her answer, and immediately after went right back into her own little world of music and dance.  

“That girl over there,” Eri replied. She had heard Yuka’s impatience and saw how hard she was trying to ignore her, but whatever. Eri had something to say. “The one by the bar.” When Yuka didn’t make a move to look, Eri gripped her friend’s shoulder and physically turned her. Yuka scowled, but Eri ignored it. “Doesn’t that look like Kagome?”

“Oh for the love of…” Yuka heaved an exacerbated sigh. She knew Kagome would never come to a place like this. Kagome was a damn kill-joy about places like this, always going on and on about how dangerous it was and how they shouldn’t be ‘tempting Fate’. Pft! What the hell ever. They were eighteen, and clubbing was what every normal eighteen-year-old girl did. Besides, it was a great way to meet guys. And Kagome, kill-joy, party-pooper, uptight, leg-crossed Kagome would never, never show her face in a place like this.

But Eri was being so damn insistent. So Yuka figured that humoring her would be the fastest way to get back to what she really wanted to be doing.

“Which one?”

“That one right there.”

Eri pointed out a girl at the end of the bar. She was about five-four, but with the stilettos she wore on hooker boots up to her thighs, she might have reached five-seven. The girl was wearing a bad purple weave lopped off in a Bob cut and far too much makeup. Her whole body glittered with sparkle dust – and you could see a great deal of her body. She was wearing a tight, too-short-to-leave-anything-to-the-imagination mini, and a glittering silver tube top that lifted high enough to show her athletically toned stomach and dipped low enough that she was practically spilling out of it with her cleavage.

Yuka lasted about thirty seconds before she doubled over in hysterical laughter.

“You can’t be serious!” she chocked out between fits of laughter. “You think That is Kagome?”

Eri scowled. “I wasn’t trying to be funny, Yuka. I know she looks - ”

“Like a whore.” Yuka cut in.

“ – Different.” Eri finished. “But I swear that’s Kagome.”

Yuka waved dismissively and tuned back in to the rhythm of the music. “Whatever. If it is Kagome - and I’m not going to hold my breath on that one, by the way – but if it is, why don’t you tell her to come over here and we can get our party on.”

Eri knew Yuka wasn’t going to say anything more about it. The girl was being swept away again, loosing herself in the music as much as in the crowd of people on the dance floor as she bumped and grinded her way through. She looked back to the bar, seeing again the girl that looked so much like her childhood friend. So very similar, but so very different at the same time.

“I know that’s her.” And nothing but talking to the girl directly was going to change Eri’s mind.

She started across the dance floor.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Her head tipped ever so slightly with the beat of the music. Her fingers twirled and fiddled with the swizzle straw in her glass. And her lips were wearing the faintest hint of a smile beneath the heavy layer of rouge.

“Kagome?”

The voice was close, right beside her. But there were so many voices in this place. One didn’t mean any more to her than another.

“Kagome?”

Stronger now, that voice, and more insistent. But still she didn’t pay it any mind. It had nothing to do with her, after all.

“Kagome!”

A hand settled on her shoulder, and she finally turned to face the voice.

“I’m sorry,” she said, pulling away from the girl’s hand. “But my name is Kay. I think you might have me confused with someone else.”

“Oh come off it, Kagome.” Eri tried to smile, but couldn’t quite manage as the joke was lost on her. “I know it’s you. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming tonight? We could have come together. Yuka’s here too. She wants us to party. All of us.”

Full, painted lips pulled down into the beginnings of a frown. “Sorry,” Kay said again. “But I don’t know any Kagome.”

She began to turn back to the bar, but Eri caught her arm and squeezed. “Kagome…?”

Whatever Eri was about to say, the words froze in her throat. Kay - she wouldn’t mistake her for Kagome ever again - spun round on her so quickly and so forcefully that Eri’s hand was literally ripped away from where she held the other’s arm.

“I told you. I don’t know any Kagome.” That voice was hard and angry. Nothing at all like Kagome’s sweet, soft, agreeable voice. And there something about it, something almost…frightening. It made Eri want to back away. Run away.

“R-Right,” Eri stuttered. “Of course. S-Sorry to have…bothered you.”

Kay watched the girl back away from her, watched as she turned into the crowd and disappeared as quickly as she could. The hard edge and anger melted from her and she turned back to the bar, a soft sigh leaving her lips.

I’m sorry, Eri. But not tonight. I just can’t be Kagome tonight.

Tonight there was no Higurashi Kagome. Tonight there was only Kay. And by tomorrow, Eri would have forgotten all about Kay, forgotten the confusion, the fear. Kay would simply blend into the crowd. Just another girl out at the clubs. Just another normal, average girl.

“So your name is Kay, is it?”

The smooth tenor made Kay tense. She looked down the bar to the man who spoke. He wore dark trousers and a blood-red silk top parted around the collar to reveal just enough of his chest to see the hard definition of the muscle underneath. Even seated as he was, she knew he would be tall. Wide shouldered, narrow waisted, long legged. His hair was cropped short, dark and styled in that wild, messy, deliberate sort of way. His features were deliberate too, sharp, almost too perfect. Like his eyes - the hazel brown glinting in the neons above the bar.

He was very handsome.

Not a man, though. Not even close. Kagome would have known that. Kagome might have even known what and who.

But Kay only smiled sweetly. “That’s right.”

It was a lie, and he knew it. But he returned her smile all the same. “Nice to meet you, Kay.” And he meant it. “The name’s Jim.”

Another lie. And she knew it, and he knew she knew it.

“Nice to meet you,” she replied. And she meant it.

His smile grew, pleased. He shifted, turning round on his barstool and leaning his arms against the wood at his back, that delicious part in his shirt pulling even more as his chest stretched the fabric.

“The band is good,” he said.

And Kay relaxed, tuning with him to lean against the bar and look up at the stage in a different kind of appreciation. “Yeah. Real good.”

“Come here often?”

A bad pick-up line; and Kay couldn’t help herself from feeling that girly, giddy exhilaration. “No. It’s my first time.”

“Hn. Well then.” He leaned towards her, elbows propped up on the bar, still smiling that charming smile that made her feel like she was melting. “We will just have to make sure it is a pleasant experience.” He signaled the bartended without taking his eyes off her, ordering two drinks for them.

And Kay was lost in those eyes, those eyes that were only seeing Kay. Normal, simple, sweet Kay. And she saw only Jim. Charming, handsome, normal Jim.

“I’d like that.” And she meant it.

“I’m glad.” And he was.

So they shared their drinks, making small talk and exchanging subtle and not-so-subtle advances. They laughed and joked. Normal. Just like all the other couples meeting in the club that night.

Because sometimes Kagome didn’t want to be the ‘Sick girl’ the ‘Cheater’ the ‘Miko’ the ‘Shikon child’ the ‘Chosen one’ the brunt of every joke and the receiver of so many hard looks callous words and cruel pranks. Sometimes Kagome just wanted to be plain, simple, ordinary Kay.

And sometimes Sesshomaru didn’t want to be the ‘Demon’ the ‘Lord’ the ‘Responsible one’ the ‘Man in charge’ the one everyone feared and everyone avoided and no one would speak to or laugh with or care for. Sometimes Sesshomaru just wanted to be charming, cordial, normal Jim.

But sometimes, even when you don’t want to be yourself, would give anything to be anyone else, Karma has a way of coming back to show you why you were so foolish to believe that being yourself wasn’t good enough in the first place.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Woot! My first post on Dokuga! (Well, not technically, since Dokuga inherited all my stories from ASS, but whatever!)

This was an inspired piece. Inspiring enough, I suppose, to pull me out of retirement. Though I think it would defeat the purpose and the message if I were to tell you all of what inspired it. So, I think I’ll just let it ride and hope that it carries the meaning it should.

As a side note: I had a friend named Melanie (not really, but close enough) that we used to call Bob, so it really isn’t meant to infer a male attribute to Kagome. In case anyone was wondering ;P

Cheers, then.

Shadow.