InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Tsubaki's Revenge ❯ Remembrance ( Chapter 7 )

Disclaimer: This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied.

 

 

Tsubaki's Revenge, Part VII: Recovery and Remembrance

 

Kikyo refrained from urging the horse to go faster than a slow canter. The beast was still tired from last night's hard gallop, and she did not want to risk running over anyone who might be out even this early.

 

But it took considerable will not to urge the animal on. Her dreams had been full of blood and death, and she had woken up with an irresistible need to get home as quickly as possible. She had barely managed to avoid being rude to her hosts, declining their offer of breakfast. It had been difficult standing still and accepting the villagers' thanks, as something within her shrieked that it was necessary to get home.

 

Something was dreadfully wrong. She had known it since yesterday evening, when she had ridden into the village to find them cowering as a small demon swarm clawed at their huts. The swarm had started fleeing even before she raised her bow. Which spoke of excellent self-preservation skills, but which was distinctly odd. When she looked around, the only damage she saw were a few dead chickens and one dead dog, plus shredded leaves and bark, and ineffectual claw markings on the huts themselves. Yet when she queried the villagers, one and all, their stories told of huge, terrifying demons, taunting them, driving them into the huts and threatening to burn everything down, laughing about having `roasted human' for their supper.

 

It felt like a trap. She had wanted to return home immediately. But the sun had been setting, and she had run the horse into lathered exhaustion in her haste to rescue the villagers. Nor did she dare go back on her own, on a night with no moon and a brewing storm, where her limited vision would curtail her ability to defend herself with arrows. Uneasy and apprehensive, she had stayed the night, spending several hours strengthening the charms against minor demons that hung in most of the houses, until the expenditure of her power had tired her enough to sleep.

 

The huts of the village appeared in the distance. Again resisting the urge to gallop the rest of the way, Kikyo instead slowed the horse to a trot, and then, eventually, a walk.

 

A shout from the watchtower was the first sign she'd been noticed. People appeared from around the huts, then began to stream towards her. That warned her that her premonition was not wrong, for most of the men in the lead should have already been in the fields working.

 

Kenichi was in the lead by the time they came up to her. His eyes were red, as if he had been crying. “Kikyo!” Panting, he staggered a little as he reached the horse and grabbed the reins, causing the beast to shy. “I'm sorry! I'm sorry!”

 

“What are you talking about?” she demanded. “What happened? Where's Kaede? Is she all right?”

 

“She'll be fine,” said Yasuo, his baritone voice carrying over the crowd. “She's upset, but she'll be okay.” She looked at him. Even at a distance of some lengths, he looked exhausted and defeated. “It's Inuyasha. According to Kaede, a demon got through your barrier. It just knocked her aside, but Inuyasha—“ he looked aside.

 

She felt her face blanch. Without thinking, she kicked the horse in the ribs. It squealed and lunged forward, scattering the villagers. Barely keeping it in control, she urged the horse through the village and towards her hut. Jerking back on the reins to stop it, she vaulted off its back and ran through the shattered entrance. Two steps in, and she stopped, stunned.

 

Blood was everywhere. The floor, the walls, the chest and the shelves and the screens; even the rafters. A torn kimono that she recognized as the one she had been using for Inuyasha's futon lay crumpled in one corner. In front of it, was a scrap of off-white cloth, with a bit of green leaf printed on it. The edge of the cloth was dyed the same dull red as the rest of the room.

 

Kikyo fell to her knees. She didn't want to believe. She had left Inuyasha safe behind her best barrier, behind the charm that hid his youkai aura. No demon should have been able to find him, or finding him, been able to break her barrier.

 

But one had. And because she had not been there to defend him, to use her miko powers and her arrows, because the injuries she had helped cause had been too severe for him to recover in a mere moon-quarter, Inuyasha had been helpless.

 

He was dead. And it was her fault…

 

 

Assigning one man to take care of Kikyo's horse, Yasuo quietly shooed the rest of the villagers away from the miko's hut. Taking himself a short distance away, so that he could not see into the hut, Yasuo looked up the hill towards the shrine. In the week since the battle, the women had scrubbed clean the floorboards, while the men had replaced the broken railings. Kikyo had managed to find the time to spiritually cleanse the shrine and its environs of the lingering taint of blood and yaki. He had thought the next real use of the shrine would come if Tameo's baby lived to be named. But instead—

 

What was appropriate to mark the death of the hanyo? The villagers owed him too much to not show some form of respect for his death. But were human customs appropriate for a hanyo? He was half human, but he was also half youkai—did the higher forms of youkai have death rituals? That was a question he'd never considered before—well, who would? With youkai and humans almost never mixing, except to fight each other. But he had to think on it now. They owed Inuyasha's spirit gratitude and respect, and rituals that would appease it, if it wasn't to become a yurei, a wandering ghost.

 

A footstep behind him caused him to turn. Satsuki flicked a glance at the damaged hut. “Poor woman,” she murmured. “She worked so hard to keep him alive.” He nodded. “I sent Kaede with Tameo, Kenichi and the little ones to go look for wild berries along the edge of the woods. I thought that would make would make a good offering to his spirit.”

 

“A good thought.” He gave her a fuller regard, examining her face. She was tall for a woman, though the years and birth of seven children, four of whom had survived childhood, were wearing on her frame and her face. Her round face was creased from care and the sun, yet was also marked by much smiling. She might have neither the cooking skills or looks of her two rivals, but she had wisdom, and she was comfortable to be with. “As usual, my dear Satsuki .”

 

She looked startled, before giving him a querying gaze. He smiled wryly. “I know this is neither the time nor place, Satsuki -sama. But when it is the time…” He held his hand out.

 

She slipped her hand on top of his, smiling a little. “You will not need to ask, if anyone sees us.”

 

“I will ask, anyway—your sons would take it amiss if I did not.”

 

“Do not let them haggle. I am not worth much.”

 

“I will not need to haggle.”

 

“If they try, threaten them with the fire tongs. It always works for me.”

 

Yasuo smiled and shook his head, squeezing her hand. Silence fell around them, and they turned slightly to watch the miko's hut, standing shoulder to shoulder. Waiting to offer the only thing they could give to a grieving young woman.

 

 

The scent brought him onto his feet before his mind was awake. Youkai! Fingers arched, ready to claw, he spun in a circle, searching for his enemy, a growl rumbling through his throat. A human woman was kneeling about four lengths from him. He ignored her as he continued his circle, knowing that she wasn't the enemy he was searching for.

 

“You're a rude little puppy, aren't you?”

 

He started, and whipped back to face the woman. As he did so, his brain finally woke up enough to register two points simultaneously.

 

He was in a room with a totally unknown woman.

 

And he was utterly, completely naked.

 

He dropped to the floor, grabbing the cloth before him and pulling it to his waist, as his face turned red. The woman gave a short, lilting laugh. “So the puppy knows at least a little bit about proper behavior, does it? I wonder how much instruction it would take make it fit for human company?”

 

Inuyasha stared at her, ears flattening as anger started to simmer in his blood. Who was this woman? He sniffed, and realized that her scent was mortal, yet it was also interlaced with the distinct signature of a youkai—the same youkai scent he had detected from the monk, that had filled his wakening nose. A soft growl rumbled in his throat. “Who and what the fuck are you, bitch?” he demanded. “Why did you send that monk shiki—shiki-thing to the village? What have you done with Kaede?”

 

She raised an eyebrow in disdain. “Well, who knew the puppy could talk?” she said. “A pity it doesn't know how to properly address its betters. Perhaps it needs to learn how to be silent.”

 

Raising a hand, she snapped her fingers. Inuyasha jerked as something in his throat snapped. Pain flared, and he cried out—in silence. Grabbing his throat, he tried to growl, but nothing happened. He stared, stunned, at the woman.

 

She smirked.

 

Red hazed his vision. Without thought, Inuyasha launched himself, hands outstretched, ready to claw. Half a length from the woman, he bounced off a barrier. Crashing to the ground, he rolled onto all fours, ready to lunge again. But something slammed into his midriff, and he discovered his wound was not yet fully healed, despite the return of his youkai blood. He crumpled, mouth open in a silent scream. He fell into darkness, laughter taunting his ears.

 

 

Kikyo didn't know how long she was on her knees. All that she could see was the blood. All that she could feel was a scream of pain and despair, a dagger plunging into her soul without end. How had it come to this? Why had it come this? After he had saved her, after she had tried to save him, why did this happen? How had they found him? How had they gotten through her barrier?

 

Her thoughts circled endlessly, with no answers to the questions. She finally pushed herself to her feet, stumbling onto the main floor of the hut, not even thinking to remove her sandals. Going back to her knees, she picked up the scrap of white-and-green, blood-stained cloth with trembling fingers. Was this all she had of him? A piece of the kimono Kaede had sewn for him? No, there was the other—how he had grumbled at being forced to wear the rough-woven cotton.

 

She got back to her feet and walked over to the baskets set against a wall. She knelt in front of the one she thought contained the remnants of the fire-rat robes. Lifting off the lid, she found on top of the red cloth a small, lidded box she didn't recognize. She started to remove that box, then paused as she felt her fingers tingle. There was something in the box, something that radiated power. Vaguely puzzled, Kikyo thumbed the lid off. Inside were scraps of paper, with fragments of writing and burnt edges. She touched one of the pieces of paper, and stiffened.

 

The fading power infused in the paper wasn't youkai.

 

It was spirit power, but turned to darkness, not the light.

 

Putting the lid back on, Kikyo removed the box and put it on the floor. A faint glint caught her eye; reaching behind the basket, she drew back an arrow. No, not an arrow, she realized as it pulsed under her touch—the arrow—the one that had absorbed the spiritual power she had pulled from Inuyasha's body in the frantic, final effort to save him. She bit her lip as the pain slammed full force back into her awareness. Inuyasha!

 

Tears spilled down her cheeks, and she sobbed, both hands grasping the arrow as she leaned over it. Why? He had been getting stronger, he had! Maybe she hadn't known how she was going to make a life together with a hanyo, but while he'd been alive, she been able to at least dream! How could he be gone? He couldn't be gone!

 

The arrow pulsed with a flash of blinding light. Kikyo cried out, then froze as a vision slashed across her awareness. She was the arrow, held in a small hand, her point slashing towards the dark robes of a monk. She penetrated the dark cloth before hitting resistance. The pressure against her point increased, and then it vanished with a pop and cloud of smoking fragments of paper.

 

Eyes wide, Kikyo threw herself back out of the vision, almost losing her balance. Shikigami! She should have known immediately what those paper scraps represented. The arrow had been used—Kaede, it had to have been—to destroy a shikigami. But when had it happened—it could only have happened while she was gone. And that meant it had to be tied into what had happened. Her premonition, Inuyasha's disappearance—everything. Scrambling to her feet, she pivoted, eyes staring. Blood. Blood everywhere. But nothing but blood? And only one scrap from his clothing? And lying in a corner, not near the futon? Human magic, and youkai?

 

She ran out of the hut, the arrow still in one hand. It didn't surprise her to find the headman waiting for her. “Where is she?” she demanded. “Where is my sister? I have to talk to her!”

 

“She was sent with others to gather wild berries along the edge of the forest,” he said. “Kikyo, I want to let you know—“

 

“Which direction?” she demanded, interrupting.

 

“Along the main trail to the east, miko-sama,” said Satsuki . “I thought they should—“

 

“Tell me later!” Kikyo brushed around them and broke in to a run, not caring if she were being rude. She had to know what had happened. She had to know the truth. She had to know it now.

 

 

Tsubaki prodded the limp hanyo with one foot, lip curling in disgust. It was exactly what she had known it would be - rude and quite ungrateful. And fast, one part of her mind whispered. She grimaced, not wanting to remember the frisson of fear that had run down her back when he had lunged at her with that incredible speed. Had she not already had the wisdom to protect herself with a barrier, she was certain he would have torn her apart.

 

Which just demonstrated how much of a beast the hanyo truly was. After all, hadn't she saved his life?

 

She thought back to the night before. It had been exhilarating flying through the storm; well worth the energy to keep a protective barrier around her nervous flyers. Finding a way through Kikyo's barrier had been a different story, however. She had not wanted to simply overpower it, yet that was what it came to, for the barrier had been intricately woven from spells meant not only to protect, but also to hide. Unfortunately, overpowering the barrier had required that she drop her own shields, including the one against the rain. She had been quite unpleasantly damp by the time she managed to break the barrier.

 

She had not been surprised to find Kaede standing in the middle of the hut, an arrow fitted to her small bow. The girl had reacted in surprise, hesitating, unconsciously relaxing the tension on the bow. It had been simple, requiring on a flick of a finger, to trigger the already-prepared sleep spell. As the girl had dropped, Tsubaki had looked around for her real prey.

 

And found only a black-haired human boy, who had stared dully at her with dilated eyes for a long moment before even trying to move. He hadn't even gotten halfway to his feet before he collapsed, feebly retching, blood flowing from his mouth. If it had't been for the charm hanging from his neck, and the fact that the clothing he was wearing matched what she had seen through the shikigami's eyes when the hanyo attacked, she would have taken him for a common villager. Not quite believing she had found her prey, she had cast a spell of timelessness on the boy, to ensure he didn't die, and had then turned her attention to Kikyo's sister. A brief spell of control, and a few questions, and she had learned the truth about the hanyo, and about the peculiar weakness of the breed.

 

“I'm glad you didn't die before I got there,” she told the unconscious hanyo. “I would have been so disappointed.” She nudged his unresponsive body again. “You are going to die, you know. Once I've taught you to behave properly, like a disgusting half-breed should. And once Kikyo's learned that she should never have turned on me. Should I let her watch you die, or let you watch her die? I think I'll make her watch—no, I'll make the whole village watch. Make them learn why hanyos should never be allowed in human society.”

 

She smiled. “You'll regret you ever heard of the Shikon No Tama.”

 

 

 

 

Kaede followed the other children as they searched for berries, not caring that her own basket was empty. Tameo's occasional touch on her shoulder reminded her to keep up with the others, but she had no strength in her to look beyond the edge of her basket.

 

It was her fault that Inuyasha was dead. She didn't know what she could have done, but surely she could have done something, if only she hadn't fallen asleep. If only the demon hadn't taken her by surprise. There had to have been something she could have done. Her sister had depended on her. Inuyasha had depended on her. She had failed them. Because of her, Inuyasha was dead, and eaten, by a demon he would have been able to take out with a single swipe, if he had been well.

 

A hand grabbed her shoulder and turned her around. Kaede looked up, and froze. “Kikyo?” her lips said, her voice silent. For a long moment, she trembled, caught between the urge to throw herself into her sister's arms, and an opposite urge to pull away. Her strong, beautiful sister, that she had so utterly failed—

 

“There is a spell on you.” Kaede blinked, at the unexpected statement, and at the fierceness of her sister's voice. “Take this—“ she found the basket pulled away from her hands and an arrow shoved into them. “—And hold still.” Her sister's hands clapped over the sides of her head and made her look up, to meet Kikyo's fixed, glittering gaze. She felt her sister's power rising, felt the arrow vibrating in her hands. She felt the power washing through her. Something resisted that power, like a thin, dark knot tied around something in her head. It tightened, and it hurt. She bit her lip, but didn't move, her eye's gaze fastened on her sister's face, not caring what happened, knowing that whatever her sister was trying to do, it was for her sake. She didn't care if it hurt. She didn't care.

 

The knot tightened again, then abruptly disintegrated. Kaede staggered, her thoughts blurring in to a whirl of dizziness. When she regained awareness, she realized that she was gathered in her sister's lap, Kikyo's arms wrapped around her. Her head hurt.

 

“I'm sorry,” murmured Kikyo, as Kaede winced. “I had to break the spell.”

 

“Spell?”

 

“A spell on your mind.” Kikyo shifted her hold slightly. “Listen, Kaede. I think what you were remembering about last night may be wrong. I want you to tell me everything that happened after I left.”

 

“But—“ Kaede turned enough to meet her sister's eyes. “Do I have to talk about last night again? Sister, they made me tell them again and again—I—please, I don't want to talk about it! Not again!” Crying, she buried her face against Kikyo's jacket.

 

“Shhh…” Kikyo rocked her a little, stroking her hair with one hand. “I know, little sister. I know. But listen to me—something's not right. Things don't fit. Why was there a shikigami? Why didn't the youkai kill you? And if it tore Inuyasha apart, why is there—why is there—only blood? And why the spell on you—which didn't feel like anything a youkai would use.”

 

“But—“

 

“I want you to start with yesterday afternoon, immediately after I left. Don't think about it, just let it come out.” The one-armed hug tightened. “And I'm here, little sister. Whatever happened, I'm here.”

 

Young Kaede bit her lip, trying to stop her tears. Starting to reach up to rub the tears away, she realized she was still holding the arrow. The arrow. “I-I killed the shikigami with the arrow.”

 

“I know, little sister—the arrow showed me what happened. But can you start with what happened after I left?”

 

Switching hands on the arrow, Kaede reached up to wipe the tears off her face, and then leaned into her sister. “Inuyasha was really upset by your leaving. He didn't want to admit he was upset, but he insisted on taking another walk. He…”