InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Changing Lives ❯ Moving On To Better Things ( Chapter 25 )

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

And tomorrow, she was going to have a surprise from Inuyasha. It made her giddy, but eventually sleep won out and she dreamt happy dreams until the following morning – a rare occurrence in itself when Inuyasha wasn’t present to stave off the nightmares. When she awoke, the dream was far away and she couldn’t recall it in the least, just the feeling of waking up warm and a little tingly.

~*~ Inuyasha ~*~

Funny how easy he saw Kagome’s house as his home now. He wondered if they would always live there, or if Kagome would want a home of her own, to share with just him. . ?

Funny how easy that made his heart sing.

~*~ Sesshomaru ~*~

And Inuyasha still had no one. It must be worse, Sesshomaru mused, that he could have Kagome again if he truly wanted; his younger self was no threat to him. Yet he held back and let them have their happiness together, not even watching from a distance.

But he would live for three more years. That was what mattered, wasn’t it?

~*~ Motsumoto ~*~

He smiled. Akira-san was something. Now he had to prove to her that he was something, too. Something damn well worth noticing.

He fired again and saw the target’s head fall back as he finally blasted it off. He grinned.

Fifty Six

(One more head note here. I got an anonymous review for the last chapter don’t bother trying to find it, I got pissed about it and deleted it saying how egotistical I was and how it was the readers’ faults and how my hurt about the lack of contestants scared away that reader for life. First of all, not to sling words, but how frickin’ pathetic do you have to be to run away from a fic because the author had a spat? Honestly, how many times have I gone over the edge? None besides that one. Excuuuuuuuse me for being offended, but hell, I got over it. I already apologized for being a bitch about it, what else do I have to do, stand on my head and sing nursery rhymes for Naraku? Ye gods. Gimme a break here, I write for you guys way more than for myself. I’m not making a big deal about it anymore, am I wrong to expect the same from the rest of you?)

The only way Inuyasha was going to live another three years would be to start really taking care of himself, at least for two years, anyway. For some reason he couldn’t decipher, he couldn’t remember the exact day of the death of Kagome and their daughter, no matter how he tried. The dates escaped him; he only had a general idea. Seven months into her pregnancy, eight? What was the number?


He’d been thinking about it for almost five centuries and still yet his mind deserted him. He knew he shouldn’t have forgotten, as he clearly remembered counting the days down until the baby’s predicted birthdate and had it marked on calenders.

He’d forgotten other things, too, more unimportant things. He couldn’t remember Mama’s age, couldn’t remember Souta’s school, or exactly where he and Kagome had been living at the time. Had they moved out of her mother’s home and shrine, or was he living in her room with her? What color had their room been? How many baby things had they purchased by the time of her death?

Did the baby have her own room made up? Was it blue, pink, yellow? What toys were there for her? Baby clothes, pacifiers, mobiles, bottles; why couldn’t he remember?

Repressed memories were a theory used wildly by doctors and psychiatrists these days, but no matter how many times he was shrinked or how many experts Sesshomaru brought and asked questions to, none of them – demon or human – could say precisely why Inuyasha had trouble remembering these things except for old age.

He wasn’t that old, was he?

Probably. He felt old these days.

Sighing, he got up and went downstairs, turning corners until he had taken the back door out to the grounds. The extra walking would do him good. A day of walking would keep him alive for three days, at least, and that’s without food.

With Tessaiga at his side, he almost felt young and invincible again. Allowing himself a marginal smile, he drew Tessaiga and began attacking. A good training session might do him good; it’s been so long since he’d had to fight, let alone with Tessaiga’s aid. It pulsed happily in his hands, as though it needed the training as well.

“Not much longer,” he promised the fang. “You don’t have to wait much longer, Chichi-ue. I’ll be dead in a few more years and then you’ll finally be able to touch me. You’d damn well better be taking care of Kagome and our daughter up there.”

The most frustrating thing about losing his daughter so early had been not knowing her name. As was custom, it fell upon Kagome’s shoulders to name her, though they both discussed it lengthily at all hours of the day. He remembered that Kagome had been stuck between six names at the time of her death, though again, Inuyasha couldn’t recall that bit of information.

He wondered if he really had repressed those memories, or if Kagome had done it for him, to protect him from further pain.

“Master,” a voice called out.

Inuyasha looked over his shoulder. The demon he saw looked human to untrained eyes, but Inuyasha could see and smell that this demon was a male moth type. “Oy.”

The demon nodded. “I was asked to provide challenges for your training.”

Inuyasha snorted. “Good luck trying to even keep up.”

“You’re rusty.”

Inuyasha’s eye twitched then, and he took offense to that. “And how would you know that? You smell barely a century old.”

The moth shivered. “My name is Minomi and I hide the powers of my ancestors. Please don’t underestimate me because you can’t smell the extent of my strength.”

Now that sounded like someone who was serious. The truly powerful, after all, had no reason to show off. When challenged, they displayed that power. And this Minomi was here to provide a challenge.

Inuyasha turned to him and held Tessaiga level at his right side. “Then show me this challenge you’ve brought. Don’t waste my time, Minomi.”

Minomi nodded again. “Sesshomaru-sama warned me about your strength. I won’t go easy on you.”

For the first time in a long time, Inuyasha felt himself smirk. A good spar was exactly what he needed from time to time, though that will had disappeared for centuries. Maybe at last, with his past finally being pushed behind him, he was beginning to return to himself.

He rushed Minomi.

~*~ Hisaka ~*~

She was fidgeting in class again. Guilt had set in the moment she’d confronted Kagome and found that Kagome wasn’t all that different from her, as they’d both been hurled into a life they didn’t want at a time when neither of them wanted a change. Her actions against Kagome now made her feel horrible, most especially for altering that picture as revenge and then attacking Hojo.

She figured the worst of the guilt was towards Hojo, because she’d attacked him without reason, without warning, and without mercy, though he’d had nothing to do with Kagome’s rape in the least and had only been trying to explain to her that Kagome hadn’t asked for it.
The day after she saw him, her father mentioned that about a quarter of the money they’d sent to him and his mother had been returned. Being a math whiz had made it easy for her to deduce that they’d paid bills, and then kept as much as they thought they could without offending anyone. What Hojo’s mother didn’t know about was the second check that was sent, directly from Hisaka to Hojo just a few days ago.

She’d included a note with it, essentially hiding the check from anyone who would hold up the letter to a light to see through it, which basically said that he should keep the money in a savings account so it could grow, an estimated amount of money based on interest rates and a plan she’d concocted, along with a short story she’d found on the internet and printed out just to bulk up space and make it seem not so pointless.

The story itself was actually almost an explanation of what happened to her and her journey through her mind as she’d battled her way back out, though it had been written almost four years beforehand. Granted it was censored so you only knew the basics, with no detailed torture, but it still explained a lot while being entirely fictional and concerning a character named simply ‘The Kunoichi’.

Vague, yes, but it made sense to her.

She took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes, almost completely ignoring her science teacher. Placing her glasses back on, she glanced out the window. She thought about the letter Hojo had sent back to her, typed and printed out because of his lack of a hand, so to speak. It had arrived yesterday.

His letter could be easily summed up as, “I understand about the check and how sending it back would only offend you. I’ll tell you now that I don’t need the money today, but I’ll take your advice and put it in a savings account first thing tomorrow.” It went on to ask about that short story she’d included, and during all of her first period class, she had been writing a reply to that.

She wasn’t sure why, but every time she thought of Hojo, she got a pang of regret for what she’d done to him, but more pointedly and confusedly, she tended to feel an odd flutter that varied from different spots in her chest and abdomen. She could label it nervousness and be done with it, except that it felt stronger than that and she knew it wasn’t fully accurate.

So she tapped her foot in class, ignoring the curious glances she got from her nearby classmates as she visibly paid zero attention to their teacher, even when he called on her.

Whatever she was feeling towards Hojo was easily a result of her going to all-girl schools her entire life. She knew that, never being in direct contact with boys without her parents or guardians being around, then meeting a boy at all would naturally be something of a thrill.

With her torturous past being forcibly shoved behind her, she began thinking of her future more and more lately, about what her life has in store for her when she finally becomes an adult. What kind of boy would she meet, marry, and live with? Would she have sons, daughters? How many of each, in what order? Will she be as successful as her parents or will she marry a boy rich and successful enough that she won’t have to?

Hojo wasn’t the only one she’d sent a letter to with a check. Also including the aforementioned short story, Hisaka had sent a check to Kagome the same day she’d sent the letter to Hojo. Sure the check to Kagome wasn’t as much, but Hisaka’s guilt was stronger towards Hojo and besides which she knew someone else out there was taking care of Kagome.

“Kyone!” the teacher barked next to her, waking her from her thoughts.

Not the type to jump at attention, Hisaka rolled her eyes towards her teacher. “Hai, sensei?”

He looked furious. “You weren’t listening. I don’t know how you’ve been passing class up until now. I tell you, if you sleep through one more lecture. . !”

“. . .Will I finally be able to drop this class?” she asked, rudely.

His face almost lit on fire, he turned so red. “If you want out of this class so bad, then begone!! Don’t you dare try to return!” He pointed at the door with a sharp gesture.

She packed her bag. “Arigatou, sensei. Sayonara.” She got up and walked out of the room.

No problem here. One test and she’d prove herself smart enough to be at a class a level above. So what if it was the middle of the school year? She was smart and rich enough to hire tutors and catch up with the advanced classes in no time. Hell, she might even be able to teach them a thing or two.

All she needed was an advanced book or two.

~*~ Sango ~*~

Since Kagome began taking lengthy absences back to her time, Sango’s job became roughly that of Kagome’s, though she didn’t recall ever asking for it. When Kagome was gone, Shippou was far more attached to Sango than usual. That, and Miroku tended to grope twice as much.

She blushed there, thinking about these past weeks. To say that Miroku had done a one-eighty and became a saint was stretching it farther than logic would allow. But he had been sweeter, and kinder, and had in fact been resisting the urge to fondle her.

His actions confused and flustered her at first. The way he would pause, now and then, just to look at her for a moment or touch her cheek or shoulder, never ceased to make her blush. As time went by, she began getting used to the attention enough that she began asking about the why. . . And then he stepped it up a notch.

One moment she was beginning a rant about him trying to seduce her, and the next moment she was cradled against his chest as though she needed the comfort – comfort from the arms of a lover. That’s the way he held her, like he’d done it hundreds of times before, that they shared a bed and a life. The action had caught her off guard to the point where she could only stand still and wonder for several moments.

This continued on until just a few days ago, when she’d been thinking about Kagome’s poor lot in life and it had been depressing her. Hugging herself did little to help the sad feeling in her heart, until she felt arms around her and knew at once that Miroku was there. Unconsciously, she had leaned back into him, absorbing his warmth and basking in the comfort he was giving her.

His hands stayed still the entire time, and he hadn’t said a word, either. After some time he’d pulled her a bit closer and tilted his head down so his breath caressed her cheek, but that had been it. At least, until she’d tried to look up at him, a question forming on her lips – he’d beaten her to her question with the answer: a kiss.

Her response to that had come unwillingly, a soft moan that had made her heart flutter as she’d heard it, just as much as his kiss was causing at the same moment. For a split second she had a feeling of eternal peace and a want to never let it end, but in the next moment, it had ended and she was staring at her toes. Warmth flooded her face but she’d stayed there, smiling faintly in memory.

The moment had continued to last until Shippou and Kyou had jumped in, chasing each other and yelling happily, making Sango and Miroku break apart in embarrassment. They had looked away from each other, blushing, before glancing up again and catching the other’s gazes.

Miroku smiled first, and though Sango wanted to pummel him, she had smiled as well. So many incidents followed afterwards, but never when Kagome was in their time. Sango had the odd feeling that Inuyasha new what she and Miroku were up to, yet he kept quiet about it, to his credit. She was certain that he was giving them looks, however.

Not that Kyou was a part of their company, Shippou tried less and less to get attention from the adults, instead playing with Kyou and Kirara like they were parts of his family. Or parts of his family to-be, as Kyou seemed fully intent on being his mate in the future when they were both fully grown.

Just now, as Sango stopped daydreaming and began focusing more on her task, she realized that Miroku had joined her. Gathering buckets of water for Kaede wasn’t exactly the same as hunting demons, but any hard work she went through kept her in shape, so she offered with no hesitation to be an errand girl for the time being. Now Miroku was trudging them along with her, but. . .

He seemed to be trying to impress her. A skilled fighter and monk he was, but he was not the strongest man in the village. He was trying to carry three bamboo sticks, each holding two buckets of water, and he was grinning at her – but he was also slowing with each step. Sango had two bamboo sticks with the same setup, but this was normal training for her.

The only difference is that Kaede doesn’t need as much water as Sango could carry in one day. So while Sango chuckled at Miroku’s valiant efforts, she was keeping her pace and feeling somewhat flattered. He was really, truly trying to impress her. He had done so before, in the past, usually breaking the moment in his classic way, but he had done it.

He was far less of a threat, fighting-wise, without the Kazaana, but hell, he still had that odd charm of his. These days he pointed it towards her instead of every woman, and while Sango tried to convince herself he was doing it because he had no need to try and mate with every woman possible, her heart wasn’t listening. No, her heart was claiming he was doing it for her, because he realized he loved her.

But she was getting ahead of herself, and causing a blush at that.

Miroku was trying harder, she noted. He was trying to run ahead of her now, though his body was protesting. She laughed to herself as his shenanigans, sprinting to catch up with him. She gave him a look as she caught up that said, ‘I’m better cut out for this than you.’

His replying gaze retorted, ‘You’d better prove it.’

She reached over, grabbed one of the buckets from his bamboo sticks, and hooked it on hers. “We’re even now.” Then she started trotting faster, leaving him behind – or so she thought.

“Ha ta ta ta ta ta ta,” he chanted, catching up with her in a burst of determination. “Men are supposed to be stronger!”

“You’re half man, half hentai,” she commented.

“Hentai men are supposed to be the strongest!”

She laughed. “You’re delusional, dear monk.”

He grinned at her. “No wonder I like you.”

She gasped, offended, then realized what he said and blushed. “Hentai,” she muttered, faltering her steps for a moment. The village was in sight, since she had taken a route out of the village to the river rather than the well within. It gave a bit more challenge for her.

“What say we wager?” Miroku asked, stopping, red-faced and panting.

Sango stopped, too. “Wager?”

“Whoever makes it to Kaede-sama’s first. . . gets to kiss the other.”

She blushed again. “Miroku, you hentai. . !” But it wasn’t a bad idea. After all, it would end up as a win-win situation, no matter who made it first. “. . .But you’re on,” she finished, jumping ahead.

“Oy!” Miroku yelled, kicking into motion after her. Where anything remotely perverted was on the line, he miraculously gained ability, and this was no different. Despite not being used to the strain he was putting his body under, no matter how often he fought, and already being tired, he was putting forth an effort worthy of Naraku’s last battle.

And he was catching up quickly. Sango tried going faster, aware of the extra weight on her left shoulder and the off-balance it caused, aiming for Kaede’s. But the closer she got to Kaede’s hut, the closer Miroku came to passing her by. She tried not to glance at him, for she might become enthralled by the expression she knew he had. . .

She could even imagine it, the determined look, seriousness covering all the hentai urges in his eyes. When he got that look, albeit rare, he definitely looked as breathless as he liked to think of himself. And he was passing her by.

Shocked at not noticing this, and with just a few paces to Kaede’s, it was probably too late. But Sango pushed herself harder, and the two of them stepped up at the same moment. Now both of them panting, they set down the bamboo sticks outside the door and collapsed inside.

Sango’s legs were aching from that, as were her shoulders; more the left than the right. She lay on her back, catching her breath as Kaede looked at them both funny from her spot and then walked outside for the water. While she was gone, Sango shut her eyes and concentrated on the heat rising from her body. It always helped calm her.

Once her breathing had settled, she opened her eyes – and saw Miroku directly above her. She gasped in surprise, her hand reflexively lifting to slap him or shove him away, but never received her chance. He kissed her, and the moment it ended, he spoke simply, “It was a tie.”

She blinked at him, blushin lightly, before catching his meaning. “Oh, it was.” She lifted her chin and alternatively kissed him, both of them taking their winning prize rather than fighting about it. By the time Kaede returned, probably having ordered the buckets of water around, the kiss was far more than just a peck of a prize.

Sango’s breath had left her again, but in a good way. Her arms were around Miroku’s neck, holding him there as the kiss seemingly deepened itself, causing their tongues to begin exploring. Small mews escaped her throat every few seconds, and Miroku answered most of them with his own, more manly mews.

Though Kaede clicked her tongue and stepped back out of the hut, neither of the couple noticed in the least. It wasn’t until Miroku’s hentai-based hand began feeling around her hip that Sango snapped back to herself. She broke the kiss and shoved at his shoulder with an, “Oy, Miroku. . !”

He smiled at her, his hand stopping its quest. “I’m being nice, aren’t I?” he asked.

She blushed deeper. “What do you mean? Hentai are hentai.”

“Yes, but I’m keeping my hand to non-hentai areas,” he replied.

She hardly considered her hips non-hentai. “Whatever your description of hentai parts are, they’re different from mine,” she bit out.

“Then why haven’t you moved my hand at all?”

That shushed her up pretty well. Thinking about it, she’d shoved at him not because of his hand’s exploration as much as the surprise of it. “Because,” she blurted after a few moments.

He grinned. “You’re so shy.”

She could have pounded him, but as was Miroku’s habit these days, he always did something to prevent that from happening. This time, he lowered his head and kisses the side of her neck. It wasn’t a lingering kiss, or multiple ones; he pecked her lightly, then drew back. He sat up away from her, folding his hands in his lap with a smug look.

She sat up and punched him in the shoulder, hard, despite the feeling growing in her. No matter what he said, his actions were proving themselves time and again. . . that he saw her as a precious woman to him. The kiss to the neck, the way his hand had felt her, the kisses, the light teasing, and even more so, how he obeyed her even though she hadn’t truly wanted him to.

No, truthfully, she hadn’t even said the words to make him stop. As she looked up at him sideways, she saw him looking at her from basically the same angle, but smiling. She stood up, saying a quick goodbye and that she was going to find Kaede again.

Until she stepped outside and saw Kaede sitting in her garden, tending, did she realize that Kaede hadn’t said a word about wanting to check on her herbs at all. Sango’s preplexity ended when she realized that Kaede must have walked in on them and chose to leave them be rather than interrupt. Sango’s earlier will to help out Kaede died fairly quickly, and she found herself quickly choosing another direction to walk.

Damn that Miroku and how much she liked him.

:End Chapter:

I want to point out something to everyone reading this who might think I got off-subject by talking about other couples.

:Point at title: Changing. . .Lives. Not just one or two. Everyone's lives are changing, you know. Think of this as a written soap opera or something.

Everyone has a life and everyone's life is changing. Excuse the reiteration of my point, but I want to make this clear. I showed Motsumoto again because I thought you guys liked him, and to touch down a bit at how hard the lives of demon hunters are. I added Kyou because she's cute, and because three added characters of my own making are just about right for a story such as this.

Hisaka is staying put because her role is going to help Hojo move on from Kagome, rather than mope about it. Better to not leave ends untied, isn't it? I will eventually take care of each of these characters, giving them all an ending that (hopefully) will keep flamers off my butt. I like my butt un-burnt, sankyuu.

So I was just thinking about the demons in Inuyasha and came across an interesting thought. Keep in mind that I’ve seen very little of the manga since the end of the anime, so this may not be entirely accurate – it’s just a theory.

Demons appear to have children depending on their intelligence and attitude. For instance, un-intelligent demons have waves of babies. Usually evil babies. After human meat.

Intelligent demons have far less than that, usually one child at a time, no matter the breed. I can’t remember a single good demon or half demon that wasn’t an only child, or lacked a twin/triplet/etc. All single children. Except for those twin hanyous from the fourth movie.

They were cute. :D

Case in point: Sesshomaru. Both his parents were dog demons, both with big, white dog forms, and both trailing two strips of fur that so far appear attached by blood to its owner (the debate rages about WTF those furry things are.) Yes Sesshomaru is still an only child in that sense; whatever happened to doggies having litters? Is it because they have human forms that they’re limited as such?

I mean, look what I did with them. Breed, breed, breed. As according to their doggy/kitty/etc halfness or wholeness, they bred. Multiple births all around, unless they were humans.

It works out in my head, anyway.

If you’re wondering about Naraku and I. . . well. . . he’s paying for throwing me in jail. >:D

Naraku: :Crying: Let me out, please, Mistress?!

Me: :Has him in a cage: No, you deserve this! Onigumo wasn’t this evil, you know! :Backhands him:

Naraku: :-S P-please. . . may I. . . go outside. . ?

Me: For what purpose, pet?

Naraku: v.v I have to pee.

Me: Good reason. :Lets him out, but on a shock collar and invisible fence:

See ya!