I do not own Inuyasha or any of its characters. They belong to Takahashi Rumiko.
A/N: This oneshot is a response to Kai’s 100 Ghost Stories challenge, and I based this story off a very popular and well-known Japanese ghost story, “The Peony Lantern”. The Japanese name is “Botan Dourou” or 「牡丹灯篭」. However, it is very different from the original story, so do not expect the same legend with the names “Sesshoumaru” and “Kagome” slotted in.
I hope you will like this.
The Peony Lantern: 2010
~ 牡丹灯篭 ~
(Botan Dourou: 2010)
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She was like no other girl he had ever seen in his life. Beautiful, talented, intelligent…she was everything he had ever asked for in a woman.
He had met her at an art gallery in Paris, where her works of art were among those on exhibition. Like her, her paintings were equally beautiful. Peonies were what she specialized in painting, and it was rare indeed, to find a young and talented artist who is keen on traditional paintings. That was what brought him to her; he had noticed the beautiful peonies in the picture. He loved peonies very much indeed.
Then he discovered that the artist was a Japanese girl.
So two natives in a foreign land, united by their love for peonies and painting, found solace in each other. He was on a 6-month study exchange program for his postgraduate degree in world art studies, while she was supposed to be based in Paris for the next three years. She appreciated his mature views and seriousness in his studies and future plans, while he respected the fact that she had so bravely embraced her passion for art despite it being an unconventional career in today’s capitalistic society. She was a graduate in economics in Kyoto University, but had decided to pursue her true passion.
She stole his heart, and he found out he had managed to steal hers as well.
Time went by mercilessly, and he left Paris to return to Tokyo. But before he left, she made him a promise.
She told him she would see him again, no matter what happened.
Her promise, made with a smile and some tears, made him feel better about his departure. He could not really express his feelings for her verbally; it was just in his nature to be terrible at expressing his emotions.
But even when he went back to Tokyo, they kept in touch via email and snail mail. They talked about everything, from dreams and aspirations to ex-girlfriends and boyfriends and random topics like favorite recipes. She would send him pictures of her peony paintings – which were a fusion of contemporary styles and traditional designs. One photograph for each month, and he would stick them at his study desk. Three years…he would just have to be patient and collect 36 pictures.
She would always tell him, “I will definitely come back to meet you.”
So even when he completely stopped hearing from her after a day in the winter of her second year in Paris, he held on to her promise. She must have been too busy; after all, she did mention that she would be participating in another exhibition in Lyon.
Day after day, he checked his email and mailbox, only to end up disappointed.
Once again, time passed him by like a scornful stranger, while he stubbornly held on to her promise. He sent emails and letters once a week, and tried dialing her apartment phone number. But no, there was no sweet, feminine voice on the other end speaking in heavily-accented French. Instead, all he heard was a French man’s voice, and he found himself hanging up.
So he tried to ignore what was the seemingly obvious fact – she had found a French boyfriend in Paris, and had cut off all ties with him. After all, he had heard the voice of a French man over the phone. Yet a part of him still pined for her. Never had he gotten along so well with a girl in his entire life, and he realized just how much she meant to him.
Suddenly, the distance between them was no longer just physical. It was emotional as well. He had merely 23 pictures tacked to his little personal noticeboard.
But still, life had to go on. One can be happy, sad, angry…whatever. The world still spins.
For a while, life for him did go on without her. Another year went by, and it was soon approaching the three year mark. He knew she should be back in Japan any time from now. Yet, he did not hear from her.
Then one day, she came back into his life. Not exactly in the way he had anticipated it to be, but still, it happened.
It happened at a very ordinary setting. He’d never have expected something like that.
It was his half-brother’s birthday party, and as part of the family, he was sitting around talking to random guests, making small talk and secretly feeling bored.
Then he got lucky, for he met this guest named Tsuda Kazumasa who was doing his postgraduate studies in Museology, with a focus on contemporary art. It was rare to find someone with similar interests and passion, and he found himself engaged in a very lively and enriching conversation with the other man.
“So, do you have any particular themes which you appreciate in art? I am particularly fond of emotional themes.”
He did not even ponder for a second. “Peonies.”
Surprise had registered itself on the other man’s face as he contemplated the answer. “Peonies…that’s a rare one. There aren’t many Japanese artists who still embrace this traditional theme for their paintings. There was one whom I knew personally, but…”
“I know of one. In fact, I know her personally.” It was painful to even think about her, but he shoved the unhappiness aside. “I can show you some of her works.”
So he took a few of the photographs of her paintings out of his wallet.
“What do you think of these works?”
Yet upon seeing the photographs, Tsuda’s eyes widened before narrowing again in a wistful expression.
“What a coincidence. It’s her, alright. I can recognize her contemporary style of portraying ancient art anywhere. We were acquaintances during our university days.” He nodded as he flipped through the small stack of photographs in his hands, looking at them one by one. “Beautiful, aren’t they? It’s such a shame…”
His facial expression must have been questioning, for Tsuda quickly asked, “If I am not wrong, these works were created by a very talented young artist named Higurashi Kagome? Shoulder-length wavy black hair, big round eyes, petite stature, graduated from Kyoto University with a degree in economics?”
He nodded with a faint smile on his lips. Her name always sounded so beautiful to him. “Yes, that’s her. I met her while I was on my study exchange in Paris. She should be back in Japan by now, in fact. After all, she did mention that she would come back after spending three years in Paris.”
Silence hung heavily in between the two young men.
“…you haven’t heard about it?”
The sudden change in the atmosphere was unsettling, and he asked cautiously, “Heard what, exactly?”
“She won’t be coming back to Japan.” The other man said. “She’s…no longer around.”
“What do you mean by that?” By now, formalities were the last thing on his mind. It was getting more and more confusing.
“…Kagome is dead.”
He thought his hearing had failed him.
“What?”
Then Tsuda went on to give details, details which he never ever thought he would hear.
“She died last winter, in a car accident along a highway.”
Died.
She died.
The rest of the evening passed in a blur. He felt as if someone had plunged him underwater, and all sounds of conversations and laugher around him seemed like they were coming from ten miles away.
It was only when he got back to his own apartment, did he realize the party was long over.
All he remembered was vehemently denying what that Tsuda guy said.
Firstly, there was denial. He refused to believe the man.
Then logic kicked in, and he realized the pieces of the puzzle did fit nicely. There was no other reason for her to stop contacting him all of a sudden, especially when everything was going so smoothly between the two of them.
So that was why she stopped contacting him. It wasn’t as if she did not want to. Rather, she could not, because she died.
Died.
It was…finality. What a brutal word.
For a long time, he sat at his study desk, staring at the pictures of the peony paintings by her. How beautiful the peonies had been in their full bloom, just like her. They live so splendidly for a fleeting period, before dying so abruptly.
Then he heard the all-too familiar new mail alert from his computer.
He told himself he should stop thinking about her. After all, it had been a year since they lost contact with each other, and he had coped with life pretty well since then. But of course, he had not imagined that she would be dead. He would rather live with the thought of her living blissfully in Paris with her new boyfriend, pursuing her dreams.
There was something wrong with the computer screen. It was all blurry.
Then he realized it was a thin film of tears which had clouded his vision. He blinked it away, and clicked on the mail alert box.
A new tab with his inbox was opened, and what came into view made his heart skip a beat and the hairs on his back literally stand on their ends.
For staring back at him was an email from her.
Higurashi Kagome.
His finger clicked on the mouse, and the email was opened. His eyes scanned the words, wondering if it was some kind of sick spam, but all he saw was as such:
“Dear Sesshoumaru,
Three years isn’t really as long as it seems, is it? I promised you before you returned to Japan, and…
I am back.
Love,
Kagome.”
A chill ran down his spine, but he chose not to think about it. After all, it was technology. No one should ever trust technology fully.
Yes, technology must be playing a prank on him.
He tried to convince himself, and he succeeded in doing so.
The next night, she came to him.
He couldn’t say for sure if it was she who came to him or the other way round, for he saw her along the streets as he was on his way home.
The night was cold, almost uncomfortably so. He bent his head down to avoid the wintry winds that were blowing right into his face, and he failed to see the person walking towards him from the opposite direction.
“Sesshoumaru?” The voice was uncertain, but it held elation within.
His head snapped up at the sound of the familiar voice. Disbelief, joy and fear clouded his senses at the same time upon laying eyes on the individual in front of him.
“…Kagome?”
She was as beautiful as ever, even though she did look a little tired and pale.
The smile she graced him with took his breath away, and left a painful longing and disturbing realization within his heart.
I must be missing her so badly; I am beginning to hallucinate, he thought. He figured what he really needed was a hot bath at home.
So he strode forward, intending to ignore the illusion. It was painful to even look at it, and it was merely a figment of his imagination.
“Sesshoumaru, where are you going?”
A hand gripped his, and he whirled around to see her hand wrapped around his wrist. It was a solid, warm wrist, and panic took over his senses before he reflexively pulled away from her hold. This was real.
And if this was real…then this girl standing in front of him should be a…
“Get lost! You…who are you?” He asked with disbelief, fear and hostility in his voice.
“What?”
“Who the hell are you?”
She looked at him incredulously, while those eyes of creamy chocolate danced with mirth. She laughed, “Are you kidding? You just called me by my name a moment ago, and now you’re asking me who I am? Sesshoumaru, are you alright?”
The confusion was threatening to disorientate him.
In his confusion and fear, blunt words tumbled out of his mouth. “You’re supposed to be dead.”
“Dead? What are you talking about?” Her beautiful eyes dulled over with a cloud of sadness, and a hurtful expression found its way on her features. “I can’t believe you’d say that…that’s really a very, very mean thing to say! I mean…we’ve only separated for three years, and you’re telling me I am dead to you?”
Tears welled up in her eyes, and he stood rooted to the spot, watching as two droplets of tears rolled down her cheeks.
She sniffled, “I came back all the way to Tokyo for you, intending to look you up tomorrow when I am settled down. To think I was elated to bump into you here…all you could say was how I am supposed to be dead? I overestimated you, Sesshoumaru.”
“…your friend from Kyoto University…Tsuda Kazumasa…he told me you were dead.” He said slowly, pondering every single word as they found their way past his lips. “You were killed in a car accident…”
Realization seemed to dawn upon her, for it was all written all over her face. She drew in a deep breath and calmed down considerably, drawing the back of her hand over her watery eyes.
“Oh…how quick he was to jump to conclusions!” She chastised softly, before her soulful eyes sought his again. “He got half the story right; I was indeed involved in a car accident in winter, and was very, very badly injured indeed. I spent a long, long time in the intensive care unit in hospital…which was perhaps why Tsuda got the wrong idea…”
Sesshoumaru found himself releasing the breath of air he had been holding back, and watched silently as it formed a pretty cloud in the chilly air.
“So…you’re not dead?”
A smile broke out on her angelic face. “You silly boy…I most certainly am not!”
With that, she ran into his embrace, and as he felt the solid, albeit petite and frail, frame in his arms, he realized everything had been nothing but a misunderstanding.
Laying butterfly kisses all over her mesmerizing features, breathing in her floral scent and holding her tightly, Sesshoumaru swore to himself never to let her go.
Held snugly within his protective embrace, she smiled and looked up into his eyes. “We will be together forever and ever, Sesshoumaru.”
Together…
Forever.
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To be continued…
A/N: Awww. Do drop a review to tell me what you think about this! I sincerely hoped you guys enjoyed it. The story will end in the next chapter! I wouldn’t be answering any questions as of now, since it will take all the fun out of the story.