Summary: (CU) When a second chance just isn't enough, she tries so hard to make sure that history won't repeat itself. But Fate likes to toy with them both, sending them into a cycle where the third ring will tie in with the second. Fiction is more real than reality and he will realize it just in time to save her on a second try, and maybe himself. No pairing. Very convoluted.

SM: So confusing...

Hindsight

-:- -:- -:-

"There was once a man, a bandit, who had been so badly burned that he was covered completely in bandages and could not move. He wasn't a bad man, but he had desires beyond himself. He lusted after a woman who was pure and kind, and he gave up his immortal soul for her. But it was all in vain, for in return, it was her soul that delivered him."

-:- -:- -:-

My mother always had friends. Anyone and everyone that had crossed her path, she befriended. She knew most everyone in town and more. Everyone loved her, and I thought that I had loved her more than all of them.

She was the kindest and most beautiful person that I had ever known. She loved more than she could ever have been loved, and she had treasured me most of all.

I wish I had known that before.

I wish I had remembered what she had once told me instead of believing the lies of my own doubt and suspicion.

But perhaps, it was just human nature to doubt, and that she had been more than human.

-:- -:- -:-

"The Warring Era?" The small boy asked curiously, his head tipped to the side, a habit to show whenever he was interested.

"Yes." The woman replied, holding onto the boy's hand. "It was a time long ago, over five hundred years in the past. Japan was greatly changing then, and it was the time when many great and terrible people came to be and some to disappear forever. It was a dangerous time, when everything you saw and felt could be illusion."

Her voice entranced him into a tale as such that any book never could. "What kind of people?" He asked.

She smiled down at him. "Humans, demons, and a combination of both, existed then. They did not live in harmony, but they did live together. It was a time of adventure when men could fall into darkness, and demon would be the light leading one out."

His eyes widened. He had heard of demons, they were evil monsters that he had heard other children talk about. He had not much faith in them, but if it came from her lips, he believed them.

"Are demons real?" He asked.

"Yes." She said.

-:- -:- -:-

My earliest memories had been in an orphanage. I had never gone any farther than the walls of the orphanage bade me allowance, and I never yearned for any more than I was given. I had supposed that it had been my lot in life to take what ever I was given, have only what I had received.

I had never been one for stories, fairy tales, tall tales, any of that sort. I had deemed myself a rational boy and studied as such. When the Mothers of the orphanage tried to send us off with prospective parents, they always remarked that I was 'well-behaved' and 'diligent and studious.'

I never understood why they did so, why they had always been so eager to rid themselves of me, and despite my good qualities, why no adult had ever chosen me.

I had never once thought of myself as strange, or being the odd one.

It was to my surprise when one day, a woman who resembled me in so many ways, and yet not at all, came. She immediately chose me, knowing my name and what I looked like when I had never once before seen her in my entire life.

Startled, but pleased, the Mothers signed me over to her, without asking a single question after being assured that I would be well taken care of.

I was sent off with her at once, with all my worldly possessions trundled up in a small bag at my side.

Without smile or suspicion, I went with her, with only curiosity to push me forward.

I had no eager face or hopeful smile to offer her, unlike the rest of the children who had watched me with envy. I had no idea why they would be so envious, I had seen nothing special about her. With my ignorant eyes, I had not seen the beauty and warmth, the care and kindness, the love that she could offer.

Children who had known such affections could recognize them immediately, and wanted for it as they would want food if they had been starved.

My new mother had given them all a regretful smile, with an expression that said that if only she could, she would take them too. But in the end, she took only me. So I had become an object of envy, something I had never once experienced, and one that I would care not to repeat. To see such hunger in their eyes made me cold inside and I had no idea why.

I did not think that the Mothers would send me to a new place blindly, but to a place where I would be content, under similar circumstances as I had been at the orphanage.

I was wrong.

I was so much more than content.

The woman who took me in raised me well. It was better than the orphanage where the Mothers there just took care of us. My new mother tended to me as a mother would take nurture her child. That parental love was unfamiliar to me. I had never known my parents. I had never known what such love could feel like.

I reveled in it.

It was like I could do anything.

If I wanted for books, my mother would take me to the library where I could choose which ever I wanted. If I wanted a book to keep, she would take me to the bookstore and select it from there. If I wanted a change in food, my mother would show me pictures of food and ask me what I would like to eat.

My knowledge of cuisine was found wanting, limited to only what we were served at the orphanage. I found out later that what I thought I was eating wasn't precisely what it claimed to be. Under-funded and wanting for staff, supper was generally a hurried affair, cooked up with what was available. I could never fault them at that since at least our bellies were always full.

But now, I had found out that food could taste good, and I could never get enough of it. I adored going to the market with my mother, an event I had never once before experienced. The most food I had ever seen was what the orphanage had in its stores, which, while plentiful, could not compare to the market. An entire building of food, different kinds on every shelf, and rows and rows of it.

I wished that I had more eyes to see.

After a few months of becoming acquainted with such a way of life (being able to go out, almost on whim and having as much as I wanted to eat whenever I wanted), my mother introduced me with a new aspect: school.

She had never thought that my intelligence was lacking. She had been impressed by how bright I was, and encouraged me to read and learn more. Still she sent me to school.

At first, I had not understood. I had never been fond of the social setting, too many people, too nosey and too curious, annoying and stupid. I disliked them greatly (for my mother told me never to say 'hate'), and thought I was better off without their presence. It was enough that I had my mother, I didn't want anyone else.

She, however, thought differently, and I went with it. I had quickly learned that she knew much more than I, so I went along with whatever she wanted. I had not yet acquainted my devotion to her as love.

She never lied to me. She always told the truth. To me, that was a sign of trust. Without question or doubt, she trusted me as if she had reason to, of which I had given her none. Her faith in me was dubious but I could not question her, I did not want to question her. An uncertain fear developed within me when I thought about it. So I gave to her my trust, an absolute one, as such which she had gifted to me.

I was tested and found sharp, and sent into a class with children that were older than myself. They disliked me as much as I disliked them, but for different reasons. They took one look at me, and decided that the didn't like my hair and eyes. They told me that I wasn't pure and therefore that I was inferior. They were jealous of me and my intelligence and found as many ways to harm me as I did to avoid them.

After my first day of school, my mother picked me up and took me home, bruises decorating my face, and a limp in my stride. I said nothing to her of how the older and larger kids treated me, but somehow she knew everything, even the words they had spoken to me. She told me that sometimes kids could be as cruel as they were innocent. That sometimes innocence was truly ignorance. She told me that if such children became adults with the minds of children, then they were to be pitied.

The next day, I did not mind the children so much. Their opinions were rubbish, and as the teacher was not as insightful as my mother, I did not listen much to her either. As such, my attitude pushed further away my peers and teachers, but neither of them could dispute my marks.

My mother was so proud of me, and the warm fluttering of my chest told me that I was happy too. Whatever made my mother happy, made me happy as well.

Life went on after that, my mother being that kind and lovely presence forever at my side, and me, plowing forward to do whatever made her happy.

The daytime was mine to forge, to do whatever I could for my beautiful mother.

The nighttime was hers, to take care of me, cleaning my wounds or soothing my mind. It was my favorite time, and she made it all the more wonderful by spinning me tales of a land entrenched with magic, so full of life and adventure, unlike any that ever could be found. The fiction found in books was nothing compared to her tales. It made me believe that they were true, and I loved the expression on her face as she told them. Her eyes trained on a land far away, and her mind traveling with her companions in that time so long ago.

For a long time, I did not think that it was strange for one to be so lost in her stories. I did not think that she would want such a life more than the one she held now. I did not think that she would want someone else more than she wanted me.

-:- -:- -:-

"Mother, what happened to him?" Wide purple eyes looked up, into compassionate blue orbs. His expression was open and questioning. He tilted his head.

"To Inuyasha?" The woman asked, gracing him with a smile as she stroked his hair. He always asked questions after her stories. It made her happy that he was interested.

"No, the other man. The bad man." The boy's brows furrowed. She never did tell the end of that particular story, the one with the final battle. It was almost if she didn't know, which couldn't be true. She knew everything, and this story best of all.

Her face changed, a cheerless smile sliding across her features. "Oh, darling, he wasn't a bad man, at least, not completely." She said, her voice soft and sad.

"I don't understand." He said, more confused than before. How could a man be bad and not bad at the same time.

"You will, when you get older, dear." The woman said confidently. She believed in him and he did to, just because she did.

"When I become wiser, right? Like you, like Inuyasha." He said happily, settling into his bed.

She nodded her head. "Something like that."

-:- -:- -:-

My happiest days were in those early times with my mother, the woman I loved more than anything else.

I was happy for many years before time blessed upon me a knowledge that I now wish I never possessed.

I had always been a person of logic, and for that fact to rear its ugly head so much later, spoke of how truly happy she had made me. She made me forget logic, but I could never deny a part of myself, as she always told me.

It was a day in high school, on the crest of grade school, entering independence. I had wanted to major in history. I had such high marks that any University would accept me in any field, but my mother had imbued a love of the past in me. So I picked up many books, indulging my curiosity.

But, in reading those books, a dark misgiving welled up within me. I had never given it a second thought before, but the tales of my mother were impossible.

She had never lied to me, and yet, she had allowed me to believe in her so thoroughly that I never thought to suspect anything about it. Her stories weren't real. They couldn't be.

Tales of demons and magic, wars in a time where battles were constant. Single souls dictating the flow of all that follow that time. There were no such things.

I slammed the book shut angrily, berating myself for being so foolish. They were just bedtime stories as all adults tell children, and I decided I would think no more of it, but doubt had wormed its way inside my mind and heart. I watched everything my mother said and did. I came to see that she truly believed her tales, that she did not know the truth from fiction.

I began to doubt her reasoning in adopting me.

My mother, beautiful with her fair, heart-shaped face, midnight hair and sapphire eyes. I could almost pass for her son with my own pale skin, raven hair and amethyst eyes.

But I also recalled my mother once telling me of a halfbreed demon and the new moon. On those nights, the dog-like demon would fall into the shadow the dark moon and transform. Instead of a white haired demon with triangular ears, white fangs, and sharp claws, a young man would stand, hair dark and eyes a glittering violet.

Was I adopted simply because of my resemblance to a man in her stories? I hoped not.

Even more though, when I asked her about it, her eyes would shadow for just a moment, her expression lost and sad. She would say no more than that I was the most important thing in her life, and to believe in the past, but that the past did not always shape the present.

Her curious words baffled me, and I hated to be confused. I hated being left in the dark, never knowing what was happening until it happened. She had never been so close-lipped before, and I did not understand why she would say such things, such things that meant nothing at all.

She was hiding something from me, but in such ways, that I had no idea of what she was hiding…

My darling mother, a librarian who knew everyone in town. A woman who could hold her own against men twice her size as she had shown me at the gym once. She thought that martial arts would be good exercise for me, and trained me to always stay in shape. She was the best in the gym, stronger than most men and able to wield such weapons as I've never heard of before.

She was a person with more friends than I could count, popping up from everywhere and anywhere, some much shadier than others. She always told me from where they came and how she had met them, but it was brief and lacking many details. It looked as if she befriended everyone from pauper to yakuza, and I had no idea as to how she would come to meet such people.

I began to think that she did not trust me after all, holding to such secrecy.

Logic dictated that my mother was either mad or had done things and knew things that most would not.

My doubting mind had chosen the former. Paranoid, would be the proper term. My mother was paranoid.

And she didn't trust me.

That fact hurt me more than I was ever willing to admit. She didn't trust me. The child she had raised, rescued from the unrecognizable gray of my life at the orphanage, and given her love to, a love that was reciprocated. Why hadn't she trusted me?

My jaw hurt from clenching my teeth together so hard. It was then that I realized why my mother had never said to 'hate,' I had not yet known the strength of the word. But now I did. I was filled with it. Anger, rage, fury, it consumed me completely. I was angry at my mother and myself. My mother was so deluded and I was so blind to it.

-:- -:- -:-

"Mother, does the jewel still exist?" The question struck the boy one day, a need to know.

He watched as his mother laid a hand on her chest, and she answered after a moments hesitation, one that he did not understand. "Yes." She said.

He nodded his head, with no other query in his mind. The jewel existed just as demons existed. He believed her, no matter what anyone else said. He valued his mother's word about all others.

-:- -:- -:-

Soon after college, I cut all ties with his mother. I had distanced myself further and further from her during my years at University. Then I left, without so much as 'goodbye' on my lips.

She watched me with sad eyes, but let me leave. She did nothing to stop me.

I never looked back, but I should have. My mother was the strongest person I had ever known, but on the day I left, she cried. She cried such tears as I would never know. Large salty drops and a sniffling mess, she had turned and shut the door behind her, long after I had left.

I should have looked back.

Instead, I turned my eyes forward, and forged a new path for myself, like I had with my mother, but now, just for me.

I changed my name and easily made my fortune with my clever mind and diligence, shaped by my mother's hand.

I tried my best not to think of her. She would do me no good, hiding things from me, never trusting me. She had given all that I could ask for, but she had never given me what I had asked for. I felt like such a fool, following her blind, deaf, and dumb, as I had.

I wasn't what she wanted. She just wanted a figure, one that resembled a character from a story.

She was so selfish.

She treasured fiction above reality. She wanted fiction more than me.

I hated her, so much.

-:- -:- -:-

"All those people from you stories, are they still your friends? Demons, demon-slayers, and monks?" Excitement bubbled within him. They were such interesting people. He would have loved to meet them, even if his mother already had intriguing friends.

"Yes." The word was said slowly, painfully.

He did not understand why she would look so sad when she had such good friends. He did not wonder as to why he never saw them.

-:- -:- -:-

Several years passed before I received the letter.

It was addressed to my former name, and I wondered about it since I kept in touch with no one who had known my former name. I opened it slowly, warily. I wasn't sure if I wanted to read its contents. I unfolded the letter, reading it as I did so.

My mother was in the hospital.

-:- -:- -:-

"Why did the bandit trade his soul for that woman when he knew that she didn't love him?"

"I think that he just wanted to be loved, and that he thought that with power, he could make her love him."

"Why did he think that?"

"He was never loved before, he didn't know what love was. But I think, he knew what it was in the end."

-:- -:- -:-

Worry like I hadn't known before gripped me and hurried my pace. I was at her hospital within half a day, traveling across the country to her side. I hadn't slept at all, booking the soonest flight and renting a car, paying extra for expediency.

"Kagome!" The word slipped out of my mouth before I knew it, anxiety coloring its tone. I hadn't called her my mother ever since I left college, preferring to not think of her in that way. I didn't want to think of my mother as a person who had hidden things from me.

She lay on a hospital bed, the back bent, raising her into a reclining position. She was so pale and thin, aged much older than the years should have made her. But her eyes still shone, her hair losing none of its luster. She looked so weak and small, so frail, unlike the woman I had known. She looked like she had been there a while.

She smiled weakly at me.

I couldn't smile back.

I almost didn't recognize her.

"Kagome…"

"Hello, my love." She said to me as if I hadn't abandoned her. "It's good to see you again."

I sat down on the chair beside her, saying nothing. I didn't know what to say.

She spoke for both of us.

"I know I've been a bad mother. But I tried my best. I guess, I'm just not good at this sort of thing." She gave a brief laugh. "I always tried to do what I thought was best for you, and I guess I got that wrong as well."

A delicate hand reached out, veins showing clearly, and a needle taped to the back of it. She laid it on my arm. "I'm sorry, love. I failed you." She took her hand back. "But you have so much ahead of you. I know you'll be successful in whatever comes your way. I believe in you."

I snatched my arm back, entirely without thinking. She froze, her eyes holding an even gaze on mine. I relaxed my arm and stood. "Was that all you wanted to say?" I asked.

Another sad smile. "Yes."

I left, but I did not go far. I did not know what to do.

-:- -:- -:-

"Mommy, do you love me?"

She looked at her little boy, who asked the question so innocently, with wide eyes.

"More than you know, love." She answered in a heartbeat.

The boy grinned. He had already known what she would say.

-:- -:- -:-

She died later that night, having held on so long only to speak with me, or so the doctors told me. I hadn't known that she was so sick.

I wish I had said something more to her, something other than nothing.

But I still couldn't forgive her for not telling me everything. And she never would tell me now. I didn't know if it would have even made a difference, but I felt betrayed by her secrecy. If only she hadn't believed her own stupid stories. If only she hadn't been so selfish.

I had myself convinced that she hadn't loved me at all.

Her funeral had been arranged without me. I went anyways, obligated to go.

-:- -:- -:-

"Your stories aren't real! Why can't you get that?" He was shouting, in a last ditch attempt to convince her of her foolishness.

She said nothing. "Dear, it's all right to believe. It doesn't harm anyone." She said.

His fists clenched at his sides at her words. Had she not seen the people in the streets, looking at her, staring? She acted as if it were normal, going out and shopping for an archery bow. She had said that she was out of practice and had bought one for him as well. As if he'd need a bow and arrow!

A few had snickered at her old English longbow, a quiver strapped to her back, and he felt stupid holding his own shortbow. One man had stared at them intently. He stood on the sidewalk in an expensive suit and tie, a briefcase held at his side, staring at them with an unreadable look on his face.

"Take a picture!" He had snapped when they passed the businessman, fingers curling about the shortbow too tightly.

He saw a corner of the man's lips curl downwards, as if disapproving. But his mother had waved at the man cheerily and took him by his own hand, dragging him away from the suit, bow and quiver trailing behind. Fury welled up within him, a rage which broke through the moment they stepped through the threshold of their home.

"Don't you see how deluded you are by these tales?" He took his mother by the shoulders, staring down at her with his superior height he had gained in high school. "They're not real!"

She looked up at him and gave a wan smile. "I believe."

He stormed off angrily after that, unable to reconcile with her fallacy.

-:- -:- -:-

Many people gathered at Kagome's funeral. But I had predicted as much, Kagome had been well loved. I recognized quite the number as people from town and close friends. A few stood on the fringes, total strangers to me. One at a time, the strangers glanced at me, something calculating in their eyes. Then they looked away just as quickly, as if it had been mere coincidence than I had been in their line of sight.

Once everyone had arrived and was seated, a man with short brown hair combed neatly stood, giving a short elegy. There wasn't much to say that most people hadn't already known. He spoke of her kindness, her generosity, her love of all things, and most of all, how she had touched each and every one of their lives. Others stood, friends who had known her since middle school, high school, neighbors, all had something to say, and each was different.

I did not speak. I didn't know what to say. How had she touched my life?

Taking me and only me in, raising me, loving me. I didn't know what to say.

Eventually, they stood, taking a few minutes to approach the small memorial set up for her, pictures of her smiling face and pieces of her past pinned up.

When I stood to leave a hand stopped me. I saw the smiling face of the man who had given the elegy, a kindhearted man I knew as Hojo. "You should stay a moment." He told me.

I saw the nods from three woman who had also spoken of Kagome. They were her close friends from childhood, I saw. Their eyes gave me pause. I sat back down.

It was a long time until the room emptied of mourning. Most gave me wishes of good luck and ill fortune, most of it was pity some empathy. If they were jokes, I did not understand. Most seemed to think they were good, I did not. I silently wished them away, wanting nothing of their pity or their sympathy.

When the last of them had left, I looked at the four who had bade me to stop. They looked past and behind me. I turned around. Seated were a few I had overlooked, but they quickly became many. I recognized the man in the suit who had stared at us, a regular at Kagome's library, but there was many more whom I had never seen. Before me, they began to change.

Hair grew long and changed shade. Teeth sharpened into fangs, a few peeking out from between lips. Claws tipped the ends of fingers. Stripes crawled across skin. Eyes glowed piercing colors.

Slowly, they all stood and approached my mother's memorial. I did not understand such trickery. What was this?

They formed a long line, paying their respects to my mother and leaving behind trinkets of such oddity as I had never seen the like. Then they passed me slowly, bowing, some with apathy or reluctant esteem. I could see many wanted to hate me. But as Kagome's words echoed in my ears, so did the words echo in theirs. In her honor, they would show me no abhorrence.

I wondered what part of my mother had attracted such a group. They looked nothing like human and yet were…?

Hojo and the women saw them out, thanking them for coming. They laughed with them, carrying not a hint of sorrow on their faces.

The filed out, one after another, tails wagging, ears pointed, scaled skin, furred skin, long noses, taller than reason or whatever, the parade of peculiarity continued until only a few were left.

A man, pale and tall, long silver hair and colored stripes on his face. Golden eyes, and sharp claws, he approached me. I had no idea of what to make of the situation. My mother's stories had faded from my memory. I had tried to forget them.

He stepped forward and presented me with a closed fist. Tentatively, I upturned my palm, and a perfect sphere of pink fell into it.

"On the day of her death, she wanted you to have it, believing that you deserved the second chance she never received." He said, his voice low and hard. "Take care of it." He said roughly, and turned to leave, three more men at his back to follow.

A dark haired man with a brown swishing tail and clear blue eyes paused and stared at me, before giving a grunt and following after the pale one. A shorter man, looking much younger with bright red hair and sharp emerald eyes looked at Kagome's memorial, expression pining as if after a parent. I could not feel his sorrow.

Finally, a giant of a man, with huge eyes and larger fists brought up the end of the group. He looked more like a monster than a man.

I stared back at the white haired man.

A name bubbled to the surface and I called it out sharp and clear. "Sesshoumaru!"

The man rounded about sharply, something flashing in those golden depths. I recognized him as the man who was staring at us when we bought our bows. Somehow I suddenly knew why he had been staring at me (I was sure it was I and not my mother he was watching) so intently.

Behind him, I saw the girls and Hojo shoot each other a look, then exit the room, closing the heavy double doors after them.

"Do you remember?" Sesshoumaru hissed, anger burning in this throat. He growled.

It was a demon!

"I can smell his fear." The blue-eyed one called excitedly.

The redhead (and when he turned I could see a length of a luxurious silky furred tail) shushed him, brows furrowed.

Golden eyes searched my own amethyst orbs. "No, you do not." He said, answering his own question.

He read my confusion easily and shook his head. He moved to leave again when my fingers curled about the pink sphere.

"What is this!" I demanded, raising the jewel clutched in my hand.

"Surely she told you." Sesshoumaru said.

"I want you to tell me." I said petulantly. Something unbelievable was happening and my logical mind rejected it. I needed real words, spoken by someone else to assure me.

"The Shikon no Tama." He replied.

"No!" I shouted and moved to throw it.

Faster than I could see, the redhead flew forward and grabbed my arm. "She wanted you to have it." He said in a smooth voice. "It is your duty now, one that she had given to you."

"What duty?" I challenged. It wasn't real.

"Oi!" The brown-tailed man leaped at my anger. Sesshoumaru held him back.

"She always spoke the truth. She could not lie. She gave that to me, five hundred years ago, at the end of a crusade she didn't have to participate in. It came to me, sealed until the day of her death when she said that I would know who to pass it on to. It is now yours to do with what you wish. It was her desire that I do this."

"Why?" I asked him.

"Because she always believed that you deserved a second chance." Kouga snapped at him, annoyed. "Frankly, I thought she was out of her mind to trust you." He added under his breath.

"I don't understand." I stared at the jewel, winking at me in the light.

Shippo (and I knew it was him, a fox demon all grown up) released me. He looked at me and at the memorial and sighed. "You wouldn't, I suppose. It took us a long time to understand too." He said. He glanced at Sesshoumaru who did nothing, and took it as a sign to proceed.

"Kagome never did feel right about what happened in the Warring Era," Shippou began. "She thought that everyone deserved a second chance. Too many lives were lost in our quest. So, she made it her penance to rectify the wrongs. She settled it in the Sengoku Jidai then went chasing after souls in her time."

He stopped a moment and stared into my eyes. "Everything she has told you was true. We are demons. We have existed for ages, and for a brief time, Kagome was with us. You cannot doubt her!" He said, throat tightening as he did so.

Then he cleared his throat and continued. "She found most everybody. You were the last, and the one most entitled to the jewel, she thought. She did everything she could to give you the chance she wanted you to have." He bit his lip, eyes shining bright with tears. "And you left her. She told us to do nothing about it, until her time came and we could tell you everything."

He moved away and I took a staggering step back. It didn't make sense. They were just stories! They couldn't be real!

The giant who still stood behind me took up where Shippou left off.

"Kagome gave up much for you. When she could have everything her heart desired, she gave it up instead." The giant said simply. He gave me a sympathetic look. I remembered who he was, a halfbreed who guarded a garden of medical herbs.

Kouga said nothing, only growling once. The giant and Shippou followed him out, once again closing the doors behind them, leaving me alone with Sesshoumaru.

"Do not ever say that she did not love you, do not even think it. You have no idea what she sacrificed for you, for your safety. She gave up all of us, warning us away from you to protect you and the jewel." Sesshoumaru walked slowly until he was just behind me, almost back to back.

"She loved you. She kept you as I had wanted to keep her. She gave us up for you, so that when the time came, your mind would not be poisoned by dark and strange things such as she had known. So that you could make a wish in the like of what she could not. She wished that the jewel would fade with you. It is not meant to be a burden, but perhaps you can taste her suffering even for a moment."

He looked over his shoulder. "She chose you over all of us. That is all I have to say."

"Wait!" I called, something clicking into place. "Who was I?" It was what I needed to know, an explanation for how they were treating me. Kagome had once said that she was the reincarnation of a fallen miko. Perhaps they thought I was a reincarnation of someone as well. I needed to know who Kagome was replacing with me.

Sesshoumaru raised a brow. "You haven't figured it out?" He all but sneered.

I shook my head.

"I suppose that you wouldn't want to remember even if you knew, Naraku."

Stunned, I watched as he walked away without looking behind.

"Do not repeat history, Naraku, else I'll be forced to repeat it as well." He said. I saw the claws of his left hand flex in warning.

Agape, I could do nothing but stare.

The door slammed behind him.

No, it couldn't be. I was that detestable, pathetic man? That didn't make sense. Kagome wouldn't want that! No one would!

But then my mother's words had made sense. I felt so dirty. So disgusting. My mind warred against it. Impossible!

"NO!" I slammed the jewel against the cold marble floor. It didn't so much as crack, instead glowing with an unnatural internal light. I couldn't be wrong. I didn't hurt her like she hurt me.

"I don't want this!"

Neither did I, love, but we must all move on past our likes and dislikes.

"Mother?" I whirled around and saw nothing.

Eat your broccoli.

A memory.

My beautiful mother was just a memory now.

I closed my eyes. "I hate it." I muttered.

Don't say that, darling. 'Hate' is such a strong word. It doesn't suit you at all when don't know what it truly is.

"But I do, mother." I said, lost in my memories. "I hate it. I don't want it. Mother, please come back."

"That is quite a selfish thing to wish for, love." A soft and gentle hand laid itself on my shoulder.

I flipped over, eyes widening. "Mother!" So joyous was I that I did not stop to think how it was possible, nor wonder how she would look so young and healthy. Instead, I threw my arms around her slender neck, taking in her shorter stature against mine.

"You have not called me that in quite a time." She said.

I pulled back, holding her by her shoulders at arms length and opened my mouth to apologize. She placed one delicate hand against my lips.

"Don't." She said. "It was my fault for keeping it from you, for thinking that you were better off not knowing. I hadn't thought that it was so important for you. If I had known, I would have told you as soon as I saw you." She pressed her lips against my temple, that motherly kissed I had not realized that I had missed so very much.

I wanted to hug her and hold her forever.

"I have to go now." She said.

"No." My arms around her tightened. I wouldn't let her go, wouldn't make the same mistake again. I had realized what had happened, why I had disliked seeing jealousy and envy on the faces of others. I was a jealous person, deeply so. I had been so jealous of my mother's stories, how she had seemed to love each and every character, even more than myself. I was angry that I could so easily be compared to a creation of fiction. But I knew better now. I didn't want to let go.

With a strength that easily overpowered mine, she grasped at my hands and gently pressed them against my sides. "I have to go, love." She held her fingertips against my cheek. "My friends are waiting."

I paused, staring at her face, at the peaceful expression she wore. "Are you scared." I asked quietly.

She smiled and shook her head.

I was apprehensive. I didn't want her to go. She was my mother.

"What if I can't do it?" I asked suddenly. She wanted a lot from me, possessing the jewel if it really did all she said that it did. I knew better though. She never once asked too much of me, or for me to do something which she herself could not do. And she never lied. I knew it.

With her hands on the sides of my face she stared into my eyes, searching. "Love, I never meant to hurt you. I've always loved you for who you are, not who you were. Trust me, Naraku would be a hard man to love."

She smiled and placed one hand on my chest.

"You soul may be that of Onigumo, but your heart is your own. Even if you had not been his reincarnation, I would have loved you regardless. You were born pure and innocent. I loved you the moment I laid eyes on you and I just hope you remember that." Tears were in her eyes. "I know you can do it, love."

"I love you." She pressed her lips against my temple, standing on tip-toe and holding my hands. "I'll see you later." She said and stepped back.

"No…" I begged. Don't leave me…

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please don't leave.

Kagome smiled and I watched as she faded, my hand still reaching for hers.

"Please come back."

The door opened behind me and I heard the footsteps of a man, knowing that it was human since demons made not a sound.

Hojo stood beside me and laid an arm across my shoulders and I stared blindly at the spot where Kagome had vanished.

"Don't worry." He said. "She'll be back. She always comes back in one form or another." He grinned at me. "If you believe in her, like the rest of us, she will always be there."

I looked at him.

He gave me an earnest smile. Next to him, Shippou appeared, nodding his agreement. I knew the others stood just in the doorway, watching silently. I shook my head.

"I've been a right fool, haven't I?" I asked, throat tight. "She really did love me." My eyes were wet with tears I couldn't hold back. I couldn't understand how I ever could have thought anything else of her. I swallowed thickly and nodded, understanding, accepting.

-:- -:- -:-

"Mother, all those years ago at the orphanage, why did you choose me?" The boy asked, wanting to know.

"I saw myself in you." She replied with a smile. "And I knew that we would be good for each other."

-:- -:- -:-

It is years later now, and I wear a pink bauble around my neck. I keep it hidden beneath my jacket of course, but close to my heart where I could feel it resonate with me. My friends like to make jokes about it, wondering about the marble. I just laugh along with them.

Sometimes, I see flash of white or red hair, or warning blue eyes, and I just smile at them. They watch over me to protect me, but it's all right. I still carry a short bow around with me, and I can shoot straight and true in the dark.

My mother trained me well.

I would never remember my days as Onigumo or Naraku, but my mother's stories are enough to know that I wouldn't really want to remember. I live on the memories she gave me and couldn't ask for more.

I finally understood what she had been trying to do all those years ago. I couldn't wish for a better mother. She had wanted me to live a life where I could feel love and passion, comfort, pain, sorrow, and heartache. I had to live to the fullest extent to learn the meaning of the gift she had passed on to me. It would be my duty to by the jewel's guardian until the time came to pass it on.

As I exited an ice cream shop, I saw a young girl dart out and scramble around me, knocking the cone from my hand. A young woman snatched up her hand and scolded the girl as she looked back and me with wide startled eyes.

I caught up with them as she was bringing the girl back to apologize. I shook my head and offered to buy a cone each for the both of them when I went to buy a new one. The lady blushed, a fetching color on her cheeks, as she tried to refuse. I wouldn't allow her though, insisting that there was no harm done. Mother had once commented that I could be quite charming when I wanted to be. I took her words to heart with this woman.

The child, I found out, was her adopted daughter. She was actually her niece, but she took the girl in when her elder sister had died. Unmarried, it had been quite a trial to get the girl, but she couldn't bear the thought of the sweet little child being put into an orphanage.

I nodded in understanding and began to speak about my days at the orphanage and of the beautiful woman who had adopted me, falling into easy conversation and swapping stories.

I saw the familiar crystal blue eyes of the child watching me intently.

One day I will tell her of demons and magic, of heroism in ages of old, and of wishes. But for now, I handed a cone to her and her mother as I enjoyed my own scoop of mint chocolate chip.

One day the jewel would pass to her. But not now. Not yet. For now, I offer them a life as comfortable and joyous as I can make it.

I can finally understand what my mother truly wanted.

A burden shared is a burden halved. It was our destiny to be this way. We could only make it as enjoyable as we're allowed and love from the bottom of our hearts.

I tilted my head and gave a tiny nod to my guardians. They stared at the girl with keen eyes and nodded.

It was all right to believe in fairy tales.

End

-:- -:- -:-

SM: If you're confused, don't worry, because I am too. I don't think this made any sense at all. Inspired by Big Fish and a lack of sleep. I managed to see the movie today. I liked it a lot and wrote this up during a LotR marathon. Watched I and II, III is up tomorrow. Hooray!

G'night.

Edit: (04-17-07) Oh my, shouldn't have taken me this long. I've cleaned up this oneshot somewhat. I was disturbed by the number of errors. There are still probably many more, though I've tried my best to correct most of them. I had done this a while ago, but wasn't letting me upload the (semi)corrected work. Err...I hope it's somewhat better now.