Lyrics: “Everyday” by Stevie Nicks
Don't keep me hangin' on a string...
Tell me what I feel is no big thing...
Don't turn away I'm listening...
Over and over again...
The flames leapt higher and higher, licking hungrily at the young woman’s
body. Even in death, the girl was beautiful, her lovely face the picture
of peaceful repose. As the townspeople kept their vigil over the pyre, they
keened with sorrow for this girl who had been much too beautiful and much
too brave to die so young.
Something gleamed from the depths of the pyre; a walnut-sized sphere of rose
quartz, polished smooth and strung on a chain spaced with fetishes. Twined
in the girl’s lifeless fingers, the jewel blazed as if it had a light of
its own. Those cold hands, formed into an attitude of serene prayer on the
girl’s chest, had delivered the townspeople. Now those same hands would
yet again save them, carrying the jewel—the awesomely powerful Shikon no
Tama—through the fire and into the afterlife.
A tiny girl with a swath of bandage over her right eye wailed despondently,
her cries audible over the roar of the fire. “Kikyo! Onee-sama!” Dear sister!
“Hush, Kaede,” the man seated next to the child said, not unkindly. He gathered
Kaede close, rocking her slightly while she sobbed. “Kikyo is at peace now.
She would want us to be brave.”
“I—I know,” Kaede hiccoughed. “I’m trying to be brave—but I miss her already!”
Kaede tore herself away from the man’s arms and flung herself facedown in
the dirt. “KIKYO!” she wailed again, her tears leaving muddy streaks on
her dusty face.
Above the town, away from the column of greasy black smoke that rose to the
starlit sky, a lone figure stood on a rocky ledge near the edge of the forest.
The figure, clothed in flowing garments that seemed to shimmer, gripped a
longbow in one slender hand. A quiver of finely fletched arrows was strapped
to the figure’s back, the straps revealing the lithe shape of a young woman
through the bulky robes. In spite of all these things, the figure wasn’t
quite solid, and the dainty bare feet seemed to hover just above the ground.
The soul of the priestess Kikyo watched the surreal moments of her own funeral
from her cliffside haunt. Kaede’s cries pierced Kikyo’s heart like the arrows
in her quiver, and Kikyo sank to her knees, laying the longbow aside. Cupping
her hands in a gesture made automatic by years of training—one that was an
eerie mimic of her death pose—Kikyo immersed herself in the comfort of prayer.
“Kaede-chan,” she whispered, her voice like the chime of crystal. “Hear
me, and fear not, little sister. I am with you…always.” Kikyo lifted her
head and gazed lovingly down at the shabby group of buildings that had once
comprised her whole world. “Always,” she whispered again, the word slipping
away on the wind.
Don't give me visions to explain...
There are no doubts I feel the strain...
Of all my senses yearning...
Over and over again...
“KIKYO!!”
The scream of a tortured soul echoed over an ashen plain, shattering the
stillness of air that smelled of brimstone and smoke.
An inhuman howl followed the scream, a wordless expression of loss and suffering
and pain. Baying like an animal, the soul of Inu-Yasha—half youkai, or demon,
half human—poured out his anguish to an unforgiving world. The amber eyes
filled with tears, and the dog-like ears quivered as he collapsed to the
dirt in a heap.
“No, no, no,” he moaned, his long, yellowed claws making ineffectual gouges
in the dusty ground. “This wasn’t—supposed—to happen!”
The arrowhead gleamed in the light with a holy radiance. Despite the injuries
the priestess had suffered, Kikyo’s draw was rock-solid, the bow ready to
deliver feathered death straight into his heart. “DIE, INU-YASHA!”
Confusion mixed with disbelief on his face, in his amber eyes. “Wh—What?!”
He lunged forward, hands spread wide to embrace her.
His sensitive ears caught the high-pitched whistle of flint slicing the air.
An instant later came the nauseating sound of stone and wood parting flesh
and striking bone. A heavy blow pushed him backwards, the force becoming
bright agony centered in his chest.
Pain screamed along every nerve as his spine slammed into the roughened bark
of the tree behind him. He had never been weak before, but now the fanged
mouth formed a soundless plea: No!
His limbs went numb. His breath, shocked from his lungs by the blow, refused
to return. His heart stuttered around the invading wooden shaft, then shivered
and was still. The sight of Kikyo, her face a twisted mask of hatred and
hurt, faded into the blackness.
The memory tore at him once more, and Inu-Yasha’s howl rose again into the
pitiless void.
Every day I see you...
Every day I need you...
Every way I breathe you...
On and on and on and on again...
Again...
It seemed to Kikyo that she blinked, and the whole landscape below changed.
Some buildings were missing, some were in disrepair, and new ones had sprung
up on the outskirts of the village. The forest had thinned into a wider
circle around the buildings, and more carts clattered along the road than
she remembered. The roof of the temple gleamed with shiny new tiles, and
the torii, the gate to the holy grounds, wore a fresh coat of orange-red
paint. With celestial sight that far surpassed what mortal eyes were capable
of, Kikyo watched as a stocky, graying woman with a patch over her right
eye moved among the townspeople. The villagers gave respectful salute to
the woman, who wore a set of robes similar to Kikyo’s own, and Kikyo smiled.
Little Kaede had grown into a fine priestess, and now, at this midpoint in
her life, was well-loved by the entire village. This day, Kaede passed under
the torii and stepped into the neatly groomed gardens of the holy place.
At the far end of the garden, a single wooden slab a handbreadth wide was
set at the head of a small, grass-covered earthen mound. The Chinese characters
carved into the wood were weathered, but they could still be easily read
from where Kaede knelt at the foot of the mound. Bringing her joined palms
to her forehead, Kaede said a short prayer, then lowered her hands and sighed
heavily.
“Well, Onee-sama, fifty years have passed since thou gave’st thy life, yet
it seems but only a few moments since I was with thee, learning the holy
arts.” Kaede sighed, a frown darkening her weathered face. “And yet, in
all these years, I have always felt as if…thou wast waiting for something.”
She raised her head and saw the serene garden cast half in gentle sunlight,
half in blackest night. “Almost as if thine spirit wast not at peace, even
with the youkai trapped by thine dying effort.” She shook her head. “The
beast’s body yet remains, untainted by decay, all these long years. Ah,”
Kaede sighed again, rising with a muffled groan to her feet, “days there
are when I wouldst give anything for thy advice, Onee-sama.” She bowed deeply
to the worn grave marker. “Rest in peace, dear sister.”
It's not important to wonder why...
What is just is...
No more to imply
This simple thought repeating...
Over and over again...
Kikyo smiled at her sister a moment more, then turned her attention to the
huge, gnarled tree standing at the edge of the village. Will, rather than
motion, was the propelling force in the realm in which she dwelt, so it was
in the blink of an eye that Kikyo stood before the tree. Kaede had spoken
truly, she realized; Inu-Yasha’s body, still youthful, still clothed in his
scarlet haori, hung limply from the twisted trunk of the tree. The breeze
stirred the cloak of snow-white hair draped over his shoulders, and the sunlight
turned the inside of his dog-like ears a peachy pink. His long lashes were
fanned on his downy cheeks, and if not for the stillness of his chest, Kikyo
could almost convince herself that Inu-Yasha was sleeping.
The priestess frowned. She had slain him, she heard him gasp his last. She
felt him die, felt his love for her be torn away as her arrow ripped into
his half-demon heart. Her holy power had almost faltered, as she faced his
pleading amber eyes, but she had seen him for what he was—a monster. She
nodded to herself; it could only be the work of unspeakable evil that would
keep Inu-Yasha’s body incorruptible.
And yet…the sight of him up close brought back a flood of memories, some
bad, some good enough to make her cheeks burn. Her fingers stretched toward
the soft fur on his ears, but her spectral form passed right through him.
She curved her hand along his chin, and a remembered longing whispered back
to her on the wind.
“Inu-Yasha…”
Everyday I see you...
Everyday I need you...
Every way I breathe you...
On and on and on and on again...
“Kikyo…?”
Something moved in his chest, making Inu-Yasha’s body hum as if someone had
struck a chime deep within him. The long, single note became louder, making
Inu-Yasha’s amber eyes fly open, and his lips parted slightly to reveal his
gleaming canines. Kikyo…
Scrambling to his feet, Inu-Yasha scanned the dead horizon, seeing nothing
but the ashen ground and the gray sky. Everything looked the same as it
had before he closed his eyes. Fed up with his current situation and not
one who was familiar with defeat (with one notable exception, he admitted
grudgingly), he had decided to try and concentrate on his body and try to
will himself back into it. There had been a moment where he could have sworn
he felt someone tickle one of his ears, followed by someone saying his name.
The contact bounced him out of trance, but after a wary glance around him,
he settled back down into a cross-legged position.
Palms turned upward, Inu-Yasha closed his eyes once more, trying to imagine
the clearing, the forest, and the village as they had looked the last time
he saw them. He tried to ignore Kikyo standing there with her bow at the
ready, but her lovely face was too much to resist. He felt the tears well
up as he relived every detail of her, admiring the way the sunlight shone
on her dark hair, savoring the determined gleam in her brown eyes, hungering
after the ivory flesh that disappeared into the neck and flowing sleeves
of her habit. His groin tightened with longing to make himself one with
her, and the sensation was almost like dying all over again, teasing him
with what he had never had, and would now forever be denied.
As evil forces cast him back onto the shore where his dreams had run aground,
Inu-Yasha howled with despair. The vision was gone, no matter how hard he
tried to call it back, and he buried his face in his clawed hands.
Was it worth all that, just to remember what you can never have? An oily
voice echoed in his head.
“Yes!” he sobbed.
Imagine all the ways to cope...
I close my eyes, that gives me hope...
It cures the silence…
Kikyo’s spectral form sat in serene meditation, listening to the birds twitter
in the tree above her. Something’s coming, the tiny voices chattered, something’s
coming soon!
With a slight frown, Kikyo opened her eyes and scanned the village below.
Nothing looked out of the ordinary, but her training in the holy arts had
taught her that animals often knew things before humans did. As a human,
she had often wished she could understand the animals. Now as a spectral
form, each sound held volumes of meaning for the priestess. Turning toward
the rising sun, Kikyo gripped her longbow, taking comfort from its tensile
strength. She had a feeling that whatever was coming would not be welcome.
The water lapping at his toes was icy cold, but Inu-Yasha didn’t care. It
wouldn’t matter if the water swallowed him whole, he’d just end up back on
this shore, wet and cold and coughing brackish water out of his gut. He
shrugged to himself; one of the advantages of dying meant that you only needed
to do it once—at least, he hoped so. He wasn’t eager to test that theory,
so he got up and moved to another part of the sand. He shook out his haori,
growling at the impudent sand that would dare to get in his clothes, but—all
of a sudden, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to happen.
He lifted his nose and sniffed the air, and was shocked to catch the scent
of cherry blossoms.
“Huh?”
Something flitted before his eyes, and he blinked in surprise. The object
came to rest on the top of his foot, and he leaned down to pick it up. He
nearly fell over backward when he saw what it was—a pale pink petal from
a cherry blossom! Sniffing it cautiously, Inu-Yasha inspected the fragile
object balanced on his palm. It was real, all right, and he closed his fingers
over it just to make sure. The petal was still there when he opened his
hand again. Well, this is weird.
Memories pulled him into their swirling depths, and suddenly Kikyo was before
him, standing in a snowfall of the pink-white blossoms. She stretched out
her hands to him, welcoming him with a smile. “Inu-Yasha,” she breathed.
He gritted his teeth. “I won’t fall for this again! It’s not real!” he growled,
even as his heart waged brutal war with his will.
“It’s real, Inu-Yasha,” Kikyo whispered, her dark hair crowned with the falling
flowers. “Take my hand. Believe.”
“No!”
There was a wrenching pain in his chest, and he screamed against the agony.
Something snapped audibly, and Kikyo’s face was replaced by its double—the
face of a young girl with shoulder-length night-black hair and wide brown
eyes. The girl’s features weren’t as fine as Kikyo’s, but the resemblance
was uncanny.
As the memories of Hell fled back into the darkness, Inu-Yasha felt himself
falling headfirst into the girl’s arms.
Everyday I see you ...
I see you
Everyday I need you...
I need you
Every way I breathe you...
On and on and on and on...
On and on and on and on again...
Again...
~The End~
DISCLAIMER: I don’t own Inu-Yasha (that’s pretty obvious since I’m writing
FAN fiction about it, right?). I do, however, own this original story.
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