InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Changing Lives ❯ Revenge Is Sweet ( Chapter 11 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

She giggled. Not a moment later her mother knocked on the door.

"Kagome, dear? Dinner is ready. Come down, both of you."

Kagome smiled. "Dinner time."

~*~ That Night ~*~

She left him sitting there, dumbfounded, trying to figure out he implied that the two of them were actually. . .what was the term Kagome used. . ?

He sighed. "I implied that we were making love cause I said we fell out of bed," he said to himself. Like there isn't other reasons why we were on the bed in the first place, he thought. "Oh well, might as well go eat."

~*~ Next Day (Out of Inuyasha's POV) ~*~

He sighed, looking down at his plate. "Do I have to?"

"Yes, it's an order."

"Orders my ass," he muttered. He had a look on his face that Mama didn't like, but she had no idea what it meant.

~*~ At School Next Day ~*~

"Something you wish to share with the class?" the teacher said, an overly tall yet skinny man. "Kagome, Yuka?"

Both girls shook their heads and apologized.

So much for personal thinking, Kagome thought. I've got to concentrate. Sorry, Inuyasha, I'll just have to save thoughts of you for lunch.

~*~Lunch Break, Cafeteria ~*~

The bell rang then, saving them any further talk about marriage and Inuyasha and Hojo's broken heart. He looked heartbroken, anyway. He slumped his shoulders as he walked and Kagome realized he really thought she was right for him. Her heart went out to him and she spared a moment in her math class to pray for him, hoping he found the woman for him very soon.

It was the least she could do after letting him continue his affections, even though she knew all along that she didn't want to be with him.

AE Forty Three

It was easy after that first day of school back, getting back into the old routine. The teachers became so compassionate that they became lenient, and resolved to let Kagome out early if she so asked, and didn't ask questions if she was absent one day. Kagome knew this because after four days of school, of notes and lectures and friends who never let her out of their sight, she went back to Inuyasha's time with him.

His time felt different than it had before. All at once it became clear to her just how dangerous his time could be. She felt an instant, uncomprehensible and incorrigible fear the moment Kaede's village came into sight. Because of this, Inuyasha kept her in hiding the entire time. Also because of this, she left after two days instead of four, and had to spend a day in bed to remain calm.

That's when her mother told her that when Kagome didn't show up for her first class, her teacher called about it. He asked if her 'incident' was bothering her, in which case she didn't have to come; he could send someone there after school with her work. Mama and Gramps gladly accepted the reasoning and Yuka stopped by after school with all her work for that day.

Thus began a new routine. Mama would excuse Kagome for not coming downstairs to see Yuka each day by saying that she had a nightmare and wouldn't leave her room. She excused Yuka from coming upstairs by saying that Inuyasha would let no one in. Both excuses were bought without question and Yuka gladly left notes behind for Kagome, both of schoolwork and personal from her friends.

Kagome had a nice time reading all the notes, since there was one from each of her friends from all three missed days, and a few others from worried classmates of which Kagome had no mental pictures.

On her fifth day back, she left for school as usual, walking and meeting up with Eri along the way.

Inuyasha remained at her house, fidgeting, with Mama and Gramps. The phone rang this morning, so Mama went to answer it.

It was Yuka and Ayumi, both of them snapping into the phone at once. At first Mama couldn't make out what they were saying, but then she picked up bits and pieces. "Social disaster; don't let her come; take her home; stop her," et cetera. Mama didn't know what was going on, but she sent Inuyasha off to stop Kagome and bring her back anyway.

"You two calm down," she said into the phone. "I sent Inuyasha to get Kagome, now tell me what happened."

"Some messed with a picture!" one of them squealed; probably Yuka. Ayumi didn't really 'squeal'.

"What do you mean?" Mama asked.

"There was this picture the boys were passing around a few weeks ago," Ayumi explained in a calmer voice. "It was this naked woman in a sexy pose. Someone took it and plastered Kagome's face on it."

Mama almost dropped the phone. "Why would someone do that to Kagome?!" she asked aloud, truly befuddled.

"I don't know!" Yuka snapped. "Oh, I see Kagome!"

"Kagome!" both girls yelled.

Faintly, in the background, Mama heard Kagome, "What's going on you two?"

"Wait, Kagome," Inuyasha's voice sounded. "Get back here!"

My, he's fast, Mama thought.

At this point so many voices talked amongst each other that Mama couldn't hear a thing. Trying to be as polite as ever, she said, "Goodbye," and hung up. Now all she had to do was wait.

Kagome was back within minutes, a little red-faced, but that was obviously from exertion. Yuka, Eri and Ayumi flanked Kagome with Inuyasha leading. His fist was clenched around a thick-looking piece of paper. He slammed his fist into the table when he reached it and let go.

And Kagome saw the image for the first time. She gasped, covered her mouth, then narrowed her eyes. In one sweep she snatched up the picture and began ripping it into tiny pieces.

Seeing as how Inuyasha hadn't flipped about it, he knew it technically wasn't her. Ayumi had a yearbook with her, which came out not two weeks ago. She had her finger in a page and flipped it open. Kagome's picture was circled, and it perfectly matched the image of her head on the picture that was now in many tiny pieces.

Inuyasha sat on the stairs, folded his arms, and stared at his toes, jaw clenched.

Mama took the momentary silence to look over everyone.

Ayumi, who had a soft voice, childish thoughts and long wavy hair, looked solemn and was staring at her feet. Yuka, who had shorter hair and always jumped to conclusions, had bit her lip and was looking at the back of Kagome's head. Eri, who had the shortest hair of the three along with a yellow band holding her hair back and was by far the most outspoken of the three, could only stare at her feet in stunned silence. Kagome herself looked ready to kill. She was staring at her own image in the yearbook, taken at the beginning of the year. In the picture she was smiling sweetly, which must have been a stretch considering by that time she was routinely going through times and stressing in both. Gramps didn't look like he'd be able to move for a while, but he got up and left within another few moments, and didn't come back or say a word. Mama looked again at Inuyasha, and this time he was flexing his jaw, continually clenching and relaxing the muscles. His ear flicked, which Mama just now realized was out for the world to see.

Mama herself couldn't believe what had just happened. That wasn't Kagome's body in the picture; her scar was missing. The scar just above her left hip, the first scar of her life. There was a maternal outrage coursing through her at the moment, one telling her to hunt down the man responsible for trying - if vainly - to expose her daughter, to embarrass her and make her hide.

As Mama looked again at Kagome, she could see that whomever fixed that picture did not get their desired results. Mama had never seen such rage in Kagome's eyes, such unbridled fury. The thinking behind the perp was probably that she would stay home again, hide in her hole with Inuyasha guarding her as always. They was an opposite effect taking place within Kagome.

Mama watched as Kagome's eyes hardened with determination, and she lifted her chin. She turned to Inuyasha.

"Change your clothes," she said. "You're coming to school with me."

He didn't argue. He went right upstairs and into someone's room to do as she said.

Then Kagome turned to her friends. "The three of you need to get angry," she coached. "We're fighting this; all of us."

"Can I join your party?" another voice asked.

Mama looked that way and saw Hojo. He, too, was clutching a yearbook. It seemed he marked the same page as Ayumi did.

He stepped inside. "I know it wasn't you," he said to Kagome. There was a lot of anger in his eyes, too. "I won't let whoever did this get away with it."

Kagome waited a moment before nodding. "You can join us. We're waiting on Inuyasha."

"I thought he'd come," Hojo said and came closer, "so I brought him something."

That was a bit of a shock. Mama watched as Hojo came up to Kagome and handed her a parcel. She opened it, and inside was smooth black cloth; that of the typical male high school student uniform. And Kagome smiled.

"Thanks, but I doubt he'd wear it," she said, giving it back.

"Wear what?" Inuyasha asked, making it back downstairs. He wore a grey shirt and black jeans, and a black cap.

"Hojo brought you a uniform," Kagome explained. "That outfit all the men wear at my school."

Inuyasha glanced down at himself. "Would I have to wear it?"

"Not if you don't want to."

"Is it more comfortable?"

"It's softer than jeans," Hojo told him. "A bit looser than what you're. . .ah. . .wearing."

"Let me see it," Inuyasha ordered, holding out his hand. He poked it, pet it, turned it over, and even sniffed it. "Smells like you," he said, looking up at Hojo.

"It's mine, but I washed it before I came here," Hojo replied.

Inuyasha shook his head. "You keep it," he said, handing it back. "Now are we leaving or what?"

"You're not wearing any shoes," Kagome pointed out.

Mama, like everyone else in the room, glanced down.

"Yeah, so?"

Kagome shrugged. "For you, it's alright. Now let's go."

They all left together, looking like a miniature army. Four girls, two boys, all revenge. Mama almost hummed a revolutionary song as they left, thinking it might have helped edge them on.

After all, was Kagome ever a person to back down? Even before the Well, Mama never knew a time in which Kagome didn't rise to a challenge, and this day, she got one heck of an invite.

~*~ That Night ~*~

In the dead of the night, the darkest part of the day, nothing seemed alive. In a high-security penitentiary, on the outskirts of Japan, men slept in their minuscule cells, with tight bars on their doors and a camera in each room. Dozens more cameras were placed at clever intervals along the walls and ceiling, placed in specific places to look in on specific known blind spots.

This particular prison had five levels of cells, each accessed by stairs alone. The far wall was empty of anything, excepting small paned glass windows along the top. None of these windows exceeded two feet wide and one foot tall, and windows of that size were limited. The windows were built with a pattern: small, small, moderate, small, small, largest, small, small, small. The pattern reversed itself three times to fit the rest of the wall, where it ended. These windows were meant to allow small amounts of light from the stars and moon; just enough so that each camera could see and each man could stumble his way to his toilet if he had to go in the dead of night.

What the cameras could not see was something up near those windows, a form so shadowed you could not see what it was. A breeze blew past the window yet nothing about the figure stirred, not a wisp of hair or a ruffle of clothing. The only way it could be there, on the window, was if it had a ladder or was clinging to the wall somehow. The walls were made specifically smooth to give no finger holds whatsoever.

It had to be using a ladder.

The figure did not move in the slightest, though a flicker of gold shown from it, proving it was alive, it could move; it was moving. Yet nothing did move, save for that flicker of gold in the deep shadows that huddled the figure, embraced it as though darkness and it were one. That flicker stopped and held for a long moment after several minutes, and finally the figure moved.

A limb stretched upwards; something circular extended from that limb; five much smaller extremities extended as well. An arm, a hand; it clenched the top of the pane of glass, bent the iron bars that held it in place, tilted the window. The shadowy figure, now having an entrance, slipped inside. It clung to the wall and flipped over; it let go and fell silently, were it not for the rustle of clothes. Upon touching ground, it was once again part of the shadows, discernable only by the motion of that flicker of gold.

That flicker moved towards the stairs slowly, patiently, staying close to the walls and out of sight of the cameras.

This figure had a particular usage for those cameras, but not yet; they couldn't see it. . .yet. It did not climb the stairs, for the cameras watched the stairs. It stood at the edge of the line of cells, and that flicker lifted upwards. The shadowy figure leapt, making it all the way to the forth level, looking like nothing more than a shadow itself. It perched upon the railing just in front of one cell, and that flicker of gold pointed directly at the sleeping figure within.

The shadow waited there, waiting patiently for its prey to awaken, to feel that it was gazing at him, waiting for him, watching him. The man huddled within his own flimsy blanket stirred and rolled over, revealing a harsh face, even as he slept. His hair was a wavy mess, his face was uncut and bushy, he looked as dirty as though he had never taken a bath in his life, in spite of the fact that the prisoners were forced to wash every day.

Dull, black eyes opened and the man sat up, looking carefully around. He could not see the shadow crouched on the railing mere feet from him, so dark was it. But the figure could see him easily. The man threw off his cover and stood, wobbly, waking in wariness and slight fear. He glanced in every direction, reached out to trace his fingers along the wall; he did not know the shadow was outside of his reach.

He traced each wall, felt every line and curve of his tiny cell, looking for what it was that frightened him into waking. He could feel nothing, could hear nothing, could see nothing out of place. As the seconds ticked by that figure remained motionless, the tiny flicker of gold following every move the criminal made. Minutes passed slowly for them both, punctuated by frightened breaths and a few stumbling motions as the man began to panic, as his hands began to shake. He found his bed again, and the figure watched as he lay down and brought the covers over his own head.

Still the figure did not move, did not twitch; it simply stayed there, draped in darkness, and watched silently as its prey huddled and panted under the covers. The figure of the man was shaking, becoming only more frightened as the figure remained unmoving, simply staring. And finally, after much time and remaining motionless and driving true fear into the heart of its prey, the figure moved.

It leaned forward and slipped off the railing. Standing, it had the form of a man, wearing a heavy, loose coat. In the slight moonlight one could make out details, a slight shine on thick gloves, tall and heavy boots, with short hair that was lifted in every direction at the front. It went up to the bars and touched one, making a slightly squeaking sound as plastic-like cloth met steel. Its hands lifted again, putting its arm through the thin bars. It lifted a leg and put that limb through the bars as well. With hardly a sound, it went directly between the bars - bars made too close to allow a man to fit through - and stood now on the inside of the cell.

It lowered its head at the man, then opened its coat. It took out a slim sheet of paper, marked with a few simple kanji, and turned to the bars. It pressed the paper against the bars and instantly a light blue shimmer went up; the paper stuck and the shimmer stopped. The figure turned to the wall opposite the bed and placed another paper against that wall, its kanji perfectly mimicking that of the first slip of paper. Again, a blue shimmer went up and faded, and the paper stuck to the wall.

The dark figure repeated this motion for the remaining two walls, stopping standing above the shaking man underneath his blankets. It turned away again, moving as slowly and patiently as ever. It stood beneath the camera, which was still blinking a tiny red light. Keeping its head down, the figure reached up and flicked the camera, and the red light stopped.

The figure knew what it was doing. It had gone through a lot of trouble to wait for this night, to prepare for this singular moment.

It stepped beside the bed, where the man underneath was now whimpering in his fear, hardly stopping himself from relieving himself where he was. The figure lifted its hands and flexed its fingers, and pure white tips extended from the tip of each gloved finger. Each was sharp, deadly; instruments of killing and sparring. It reached down now, grasped the coverlet, and pulled it off, still slow and patient.

There was no way its prey could get away from it now. It had been waiting for this day for a long, long time, and this man was only the first to pay his retribution with his life.

The man yelped loudly as the blanket was drawn away from his body, and clutched his own legs before trying to scramble backwards. Eyes wide, lips trembling, he looked desperately for the figure which took his only form of defense. He could see nothing in the darkness, and the figure remained silent. The man tumbled out of his miniature bed, making a ruckus in the meantime. The figure moved only its head, watching with a satisfied air as the man shook and scurried, trying to get away from what he could never escape.

A judge sentenced him. A jury convicted him. He, the ring leader, the one who chose what to do, who to kill, whose life to destroy, how they would take away the world's hope piece by piece; it was him that gained a full five consecutive life sentences, doomed without the possibility of probation, destined to die in his own cell from the life he created, because of the lives he dismantled.

This figure knew his name, this now pitiful man who once stroke fear into people with simple looks, this man who now was scared for his life and shouting for the guards who would never hear him. This man who chose to steal, murder and rape; his name was Hisochane Ishi.

And the figure who watched him was his executioner.

~*~ Next Morning ~*~

After an incredible ordeal in which Kagome, Inuyasha and her friends skipped their classes to figure out who altered that picture, they were close to finding out who did it. All of them researched and talked to students, traced the picture back as far as the line went. Inuyasha as always stayed with Kagome, and at times when they weren't getting answers, Kagome gave him permission to scare the piss out of the students who weren't talking.

It was easy for Inuyasha. Lift the kid by his neck, shake him, drop him, hit the wall beside his head and leave frighteningly deep dents, simply flex and watch as the boys widened their eyes to the incredibly loud pops in his knuckles. Even smirking and chuckling dangerously did it at times. One particular boy wouldn't say a word until Inuyasha threw him across a hallway, making him slide along the floor more than forty feet. Inuyasha had then leapt and landed standing with a foot on either side of the kid's head, glaring down at him with his arms crossed.

That boy popped and gave up an amazing amount of information.

Kagome met with the rest of their group after school, and found that each of that had skipped all of their classes, searching. All of the boys in school, all day long, kept their mouths shut when Kagome walked by, Inuyasha almost plastered to her back. The first boy that whistled and winked almost lost an eye, and went home early with a broken hand.

When Kagome returned home, information written down and Xeroxed for all of them, she patted Inuyasha and kissed him, telling him he did a wonderful job. Dinner that night was pleasing, and Kagome specifically asked for ramen to give to Inuyasha as a treat for, "doing only what I asked" all day. His tendency for violence was completely overlooked because of his obeying her every command, harming people only when she allowed him to. And she took just as much satisfaction in watching them squirm as Inuyasha did.

That night found them asleep snuggled with one another. Kagome's dreams were pleasant thoughts of the pain Inuyasha would inflict upon the man or men that decided it was funny to try to screw with her.

The morning wasn't quite so lovely. Mama answered the door, still pleased with the amount of information Kagome and her friends managed to track down, when she heard someone knock. Opening the door showed local law enforcement, who immediately asked the whereabouts of Kagome's bodyguard, Inuyasha.

Mama didn't answer at first. "Why do you want to know?" she asked.

The officers looked at one another and asked for entrance inside. They turned on her television to the local news, where it showed a woman giving the news.

" - still have yet to issue a report about the situation," she was saying. "Once again, it was found this morning in our own Shinomu penitentiary, a guard discovered the horribly tortured and mangled body of inmate Hisochane Ishi. The guards and inmates heard nothing the entire night. Two cameras were positioned to see within his cell the entire time, yet the one outside his cell could pick up no sound, and the one within could see nothing. It is the speculation of this station that the perpetrator managed to cut the sound from the outside camera and cover the sight of the inner one. It is still unexplained why no one heard anything. The police have yet to release the taping of the murder to the press -"

One officer turned off the television again. "That is why we must see this 'Inuyasha'."

Mama wet her lips. "He should still be asleep upstairs."

"We must speak with him," the other officer told her. "At the moment we have all of our officers scouring for the perpetrator, of which Inuyasha is a suspect."

Mama paused a moment. "I'll wake him. But he'll probably be grumpy," she added as she began climbing the stairs. "He doesn't like it when I wake him up before Kagome does."

"Wait," an officer said at the bottom of the stairs. "He wakes with Kagome-san?"

"Yes," Mama said. "He sleeps in her room with her. It keeps her calm," she added to keep it from sounding ecchi. She knocked on Kagome's door lightly. "Inuyasha," she said softly, knowing he'd hear. "You have to come out for a moment."

She heard nothing from the inside, but sure enough, the door opened and Inuyasha stepped out. He shut the door behind him. "What did you wake me for?" he asked, quietly but pissed as ever.

"Hide your ears," she hissed. Louder, she added, "The police are here to ask you a few questions."

Inuyasha yawned, but it looked purposely. "Alright, let me get ready," he said, but it was a line she had told him to say in such situations. He went back into the room as Mama went back downstairs.

"Did you two hear any of that?" she asked.

They nodded. "We'll wait in the living room for him," one said. Both of them sat on the couch and waited.

Not much longer and Inuyasha came down, wearing a shirt, jeans and a hat. Mama gestured him into the living room and he stood, lounging in the doorway. He crossed his arms. "Yeah? I hear you wanted to talk to me."

The officers stood, seeing as how Inuyasha was. "Where were you last night?"

"Here," he replied smoothly.

"For how long?"

"All night."

"Can anyone cooberate that?"

Inuyasha blinked and looked in question at Mama.

She smiled. "It means can anyone agree that you were here."

"Oh," he said. He nodded. "Let's see, there's Kagome, Higurashi-kaa-san, the old man, and Souta," he added as he ticked off his fingers.

Mama blushed slightly as Inuyasha called her Higurashi-kaa-san, and touched his shoulder in approval. He smiled at her.

An officer wrote down what he said and the other explained why they were here. As he did so, Inuyasha's eyes slowly narrowed farther and farther, and a soft sound began at the back of his throat. He interrupted as the officer was nearly finished.

"Why the fuck would I care about his death?!" he snapped. "He deserved it more than anybody else," he added in a snarl. "You want to know who did it? Why not think of an avenging angel out to punish him! You ever think of that?!"

"Inuyasha," Mama hissed. "You're only incriminating yourself."

He looked like he didn't know that word, but understood what she meant.

"We understand your anger," the officer taking notes said. "But whether or not he was evil doesn't matter. He was still murdered, and it's our job to find out who. The last thing we want is to leave it alone, only to find than an even worse man killed him and was on a rampage."

Inuyasha blinked. "Why would they start with existing criminal if they wanted to be one?"

"To pretend to be an 'avenging angel'," the other officer told him. "Because that man double-crossed him. So he could see if he was worse; who knows. They could be a million reasons behind it, and each could be wrong. Still, we can't take that chance. Now, either you can help us by eliminating yourself as a suspect, or you can hinder us by incriminating yourself if you aren't the one."

"Well, I'm not," Inuyasha said harshly. "I may have hated the guy, but Kagome doesn't want me to kill him -"

"There was a message," one of them interrupted. "Carved into the wall, the only wall not completely covered in the dead man's own blood."

"What's going on?"

Mama turned to the kitchen and smiled at her daughter. "It may not be something you want to hear this early in the morning," she began.

Inuyasha glanced at Kagome, and Mama couldn't read the look in his eye. He wet his lips and stood up straight, uncrossing his arms. "What did the message say?" he asked.

The officer lifted his chin. " 'He touched her first'."

:End Chapter:

In the original chapter I actually had a totally different idea for this part, one where Kagome and Kikyo talked for a long time and then Kagome told Inuyasha all about Golden Birthdays. . .I'll get around to it eventually.

But I figure this way is better. The police have an investigation, and now, so does Kagome and Inuyasha. Who else wants to see her Sherlock Holmes skills? Hehehehe.

Sorry about the picture thing. The picture, in my mind, had a woman sitting on her knees with her arms behind her head. See, sexy yet not raunchy. I know it's so mean, fiddling with Kagome like that. But come on, she told Inuyasha not to kill those guys. He has a lot of pent-up violence he needs to. . .indulge in. XD

Until next chapter, try not to jump to conclusions about this one. I'll bet most of you are already seeing the theme coming, what with the message carved into the wall. Many of you will think it was Inuyasha, a few of you may think it's Sesshomaru, an assassin, or possibly a child or descendant of either brother. Guess all you like; I have a set ending for these deaths.

One of the more recently suggested weapons was prayer beads like Inuyasha’s. While I like the idea, I must change it ever-so-slightly. . .

:Throws Prayer Bead necklaces, bracelets, anklets and rings around various non-reviewers: Now you see, I can give each of you a nifty command, such as this. . .

:Brings out Sesshomaru who’s wearing prayer beads: Go for it, Kagome.

Kagome: Pig.

Sess: I despise you. :POIT! Changed into a pig:

Kagome: Lantern.

Sess: Kwee! :POIT! A lantern:

Kagome: Puppy.

Sess: :POIT! A puppy:

Kagome: Sexy catgirl.

Sess: O.O :POIT! A sexy catgirl, looks around nervously: Change me back, human. . . now.

Kagome: Nah, I like you like that.

Fanboys: A catgirl!! :Charge at Sess thinking it’s not him:

Sess: I will have revenge!! :Runs for it:

Me: Fear me. I can and will do these things to you.

See ya!