Reverence of Lost Nostalgia by DeathMoonLight

Prolouge: Guarded with Hindsight

Summary:

Time is a sketchy concept, questions of its surmount-ability pressing upon scientists daily. Even more difficult to comprehend, though, are memories, an idea held within one's mind. The mind can play tricks, making one believe an event came to pass, when it did not, or it represses memories that bring pain. Time intertwines memories, making it seem as though events never took place, for, what is an event without knowledge and recognition that it took place? How do you grasp onto something with so little understanding of it? How does one conquer that which can not be known?

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha or any of its characters.

A/N:

Um I haven't been writing FFs in a while, or reading them for that matter, but I recently started up again, needing an artistic release as of late. It just so happens I've been into Sess/Kag fics again, and having read a few new good ones, I was filled with an insatiable urge to write write write. Not one to deny myself art, I allowed the pleasure and embraced it. =P Enjoyable indeed. Haha. Well either way, this is kinda just to get myself a bit more settled. I want to see the sort of reactions people give to this prologue before I continue on too deeply into the story.

Reverence of Lost Nostalgia

Prologue:

Guarded with Hindsight

A large crowd stood, gathered about the entrance of an ominous cave. Hushed whispers and subtle murmurs of curiosity and anxiety ran across the air above them, rushing about madly, creating a sound of havoc, thus echoing in and about the cave. The noise sounded rather eerie as it was flung back at the crowd by the disapproving grotto, which wanted nothing more than to be rid of the vile and selfish thoughts expressed within the resonance. Still, though, they persisted, remaining blissfully ignorant of the pressure they were building up for the one who had brought about the commotion to the unsuspecting cave.

The mass was divided up amongst them. Although the divisions were mainly incognito, there remained some sort of structure to them. To the right were humans, the left were demons and those with demon blood, and between the two groups they were further divided between men and women. Of course those then grouped off into their friends and allies, but that remains to be unimportant as each of them had gathered to witness the very same thing, the one thing the world had been expecting. The means to an end. Turmoil would end, fighting would dissipate, as much as was possibly among such selfish beings, and lives would be saved. Four years, and finally, their world was being set to peace.

One brave soul, deciding that waiting outside was much too taxing upon his life, stepped forward, towards the entrance of the cave. His long brown hair hung greasily against his head, and his sweaty palms clenched at his kimono. It seemed normal enough and it was silent enough to welcome him, but not foreboding. As he neared it, his steps became less tentative, courage gathering within. He stood tall, fearless, and the world seemed to hush about him, waiting to see what would come of this. He was inside now, a cold sweat beading lightly at his temples, but he neither slowed nor allowed it to deter him.

He was determined.

The tension that had gathered in everyone seemed to fade instantly when the young man came in contact with a strong barrier that glowed brightly when he tried to push past it. It shimmered threateningly, and pulsed, throwing the man backwards.

Silence.

Soon the sound rose again as people began to talk readily of the humbled man. He quickly regained his composure and hastily got to his feet, burying himself deep into the crowd so as not to draw any more attention to him.

No longer was the talk quiet, but boisterously loud, sending a wave of clatter into the cave, which could no longer keep up and was spitting back the echoes at longer intervals. Or perhaps it was actually shorter, just that the noise, once echoed, became indecipherable and annoying, bouncing raggedly against the walls.

Deep within the cave, at the very end of the dark tunnel, sat a woman, clad in Miko garbs. Her ears picked up the loud sound of those who awaited her outside, sending small shivers down along her spine with each sentence uttered. Easily able to pick up each stanza, each phrase they expressed to one another enthusiastically--- a true endowment that was gained after long years of practicing with incomprehensible babble--- doubt shifted through her mind, clouding her already irresolute judgment. In the recesses of the dark cave, the woman clenched her fists and bared her teeth angrily.

Were these really the beings she was to save? Were these really the cousins, daughters, aunts, sons, uncles, friends, lovers, and parents of those she wished to relieve burden from? What sort of world was she trying to liberate, her, in this dark lonely cave?

Why was she so scared?

How funny it was that she would be thinking all of this, her, of all people. Was she not the compassionate one? Was she not a loyal being to anyone who earned her trust? Was she not giving, and eternally patient with those who were unknowingly ignorant of her pains and struggles? Since when had she become so morose, so bitter, that not even she could recognize herself?

Ah.

It must have been then.

She shook her head, deftly pressing past her own thoughts.

Selfless.

Pure.

Caring.

Loving.

Understanding.

Yes. This was her. This was what she had morphed herself into over the long years of her life. What more could she possibly bring out now, when all was about to end? She could see her own figure walking about cities, forests, and caverns, but why, pray tell, was her body always different in each memory of her self? Who else was she but her self, who else could she ever be but herself?

She was their savior, their ever expending liberator, born solely for the purpose of dying. It was like some sick untold sacrifice ritual.

Could this truly be her destiny, her purpose in life? To die for those she loved, those she cared for, those she was fond of, those she knew, and those she would never meet? Had it always been this way, or had she somehow altered what it was she was supposed to do in her life?

Sadness filled her being, eyes staring blindly into the bitch black in front of her. Absently, her arms reached out towards the wall she knew was in front of her, fingers grazing about the rough stone. How harsh this reality was to her soft body. Nevertheless, she had taken this responsibility upon herself, and she would pull through. The day she had come to terms with what she had set herself to do was the day her life no longer belonged to her.

A wistful glaze took over her blue eyes, illuminating t hem brightly in the eternal dark. 'Still, I wish I had actually know what that meant... I wish I had a reason to drop this façade of strength and be who I was before everything...'

Wishing was a waste though, and she know as much. How many times had she wished in her life only to find that the fates would not let her have her way, no matter the circumstance? This would be no different now. 'Right, this was my chosen path. Its isn't my place to decide that those people outside deserve to die.'

Eyes hardened with resolve she gazed down at the small glass orb in her hand. The Shikon no Tama, completed and pure, sitting in her palm awaiting her wish to finally banish it form this world. Not containing her heart anymore, she allowed her dulled blue eyes to shed

hot tears.

This was her star moment, her ten seconds of fame. The world would remember her for this. Or at least, those who knew what she was doing. What she was going to do.

The impatience had grown with those gathered about outside, as more had attempted to gain access to the cave.

A bright light blasted over them, bathing them over in a feeling of serenity. If never before in their lives they had felt peace, now they had. As it slowly ebbed away, life seemed to stop completely, none daring to move, trying to gather their wits about them.

Why did the world seem more dank suddenly?