InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ A Purity Short: Cacophony ❯ Chasing ( Chapter 3 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Cartham sat back, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched Kelly push the food on her plate around, barely eating anything and speaking even less.

He’d brought her to his hotel, to the small, but very nice restaurant on the ground floor.  As they’d waited for their orders, he’d fired a text off to Zelig, letting him know that he had Kelly with him and that he’d see what he could do about finding her more permanent lodging, which would be a hell of a lot easier if Kelly would speak.

Interesting, wasn’t it?  She was staying at a shelter, and yet, she’d taken the time to perfectly apply her makeup before she left, but she did tell him that she didn’t have to work today, so, there was that . . .

‘It’s not really that surprising, y’know,’ his youkai-voice said.

‘How’s that?’

The voice sighed.  ‘Think about it.  It’s the easiest way to cover those scars, don’t you think?’

He hadn’t thought of that.  Then again, he supposed that it was normal enough, not to, given that makeup wasn’t really his thing.

That didn’t really matter, though, and the reality was that he needed to get her moving because Cain had forwarded him a list of apartments in the area near the shelter, so, hopefully, near where she worked.  He’d also gone to the trouble of making appointments for her to see the apartments, and the first one was in about forty minutes.

“You going to eat that or just keep mashing it up?” he muttered, loudly enough for her to hear him, not loud enough for his voice to carry.

She shot him an inscrutable look without lifting her chin.  Eyes smoky, dark, she blinked a couple of times before she finally sat back and pushed the plate away.  “I don’t want anything from him,” she said, scrunching up her shoulders as she grabbed her backpack and wrapped her arms around it.  “Besides, he doesn’t have a reason to bother with me.”

Rolling his eyes, Cartham retrieved a pack of Doublemint gum and tore it open.  “Well, he doesn’t agree,” he replied.

The look she gave him was caught up somewhere between puzzled and defiant—an odd mix, really, but somehow, it fit her.  “I’m not his kid; I’m not his concern.  I came here to get away from everyone and everything.  I don’t need anything that I can’t do on my own.”

Idly scratching his temple, Cartham gave a careless shrug.  “Cute speech,” he told her.  “You know that won’t wash with him.  Now, get moving, will you?  He’s lined up some apartments for you to look at, and I can’t leave here till you’re safely settled in somewhere.”

She started to open her mouth to protest.  He was faster as he leaned forward, resting his arms on the table as he leveled a no-nonsense scowl at her.  “Look, I’m humoring you right now, but I don’t have a hell of a lot of patience, Kelly.  Whether you like it or not isn’t my problem.  I’m not here to fix you.  I’m here because Zelig’s worried about you, and if he’s spending all his time, worrying about you, then he’s not worrying about the important shit, like keeping rogue youkai under control, so, even if you don’t like it, deal with it.  It’s about more than just you.”

Her eyes narrowed on him despite the color that filtered into her cheeks.  “Why don’t you just go away?” she ground out, grabbing her backpack and scooting out of the booth.  “Leave me alone.”

Some part of him actually expected her to bolt, and he wasn’t really surprised when she did.  Dropping a few rumpled bills onto the table, he took off after her.

It didn’t take long for him to catch up to her, either.  She wasn’t running, and maybe she had banked on the idea that he wouldn’t cause a scene in public; he didn’t know.

‘Ridiculous woman . . . As if I don’t have better things to do with my time than to chase after a girl with no damn common sense . . .’

‘Oh, come off it, Cartham.  You know as well as I do that if it were you, you wouldn’t want anyone’s help, either—especially not your best friend’s rich daddy.’

‘Yeah, well, she doesn’t have a damn choice, now does she?’

His youkai-voice didn’t argue with that.

Grasping her arm firmly but not cruelly, he felt her try to yank herself away, but he held on.  “Give up, missy.  If you haven’t noticed, I’m a hella lot bigger ‘n you.”

She sighed, but he felt it more than heard it.  “Listen, Cartham, isn’t it?  Can’t you just tell him that . . . that you lost me or something?  I’m fine, right?  You’ve seen for yourself.  Tell him I don’t need his help.”

He let out a deep breath.  It wasn’t a sigh, but it was full of exasperation, given that the girl wasn’t going to make his job easy, and didn’t that just figure?  “It doesn’t work like that,” he told her, steering her around the corner.  They were only a couple blocks from the first apartment on the list, and that was where he was taking her, whether she liked it or not.  “He watched you grow up, didn’t he?  Just like his own daughter.  Didn’t you spend as much time over there as you did at your own place?”

“Maybe more,” she muttered, almost as though she just didn’t want to admit as much.

“You know, maybe you should be thankful that he cares about you.  Ever think about that?”

She shot him a scathing glower, and this time, she managed to jerk her arm out of his grip, crossing them over her chest as she assumed a very stubborn gait.  “Should I drop to my knees?  Praise him like he’s some sort of god or something?”

“That’s not what I meant,” he growled in kind.  “I think you know that much.”

“Actually, I don’t know what you meant,” she countered.  “I don’t know you.  At all.”

Rubbing his forehead as he struggled to figure out, just how to reason with the woman, he dug down deeper for a ration of patience that he sorely needed, but when he opened his mouth to speak again, he shot her a quick glance, only to watch with a thoughtful frown as she untangled her right arm, leaving her left one, wrapped over her stomach, to rub at her right hip.  Something about it struck him as odd, and he knew damn well that she hadn’t meant for him to see it, either.  She was hurting, wasn’t she?  A lingering effect of her burns or maybe even the surgeries she’d endured to repair the damage, maybe . . .?

And something about that hit him down deep.  It wasn’t pity that he felt, no, but he’d be lying if he were to try to say that he didn’t feel some kind of sadness on her behalf.  Given what he’d seen himself when it came to her family—her parents—was it any wonder that she would refuse to give voice to any kind of discomfort?  Because he knew, too, didn’t he, that it didn’t matter how well he did or didn’t know her, she wouldn’t say as much to him . . . or to anyone.

The thing was, she was right.  He didn’t know her, and she didn’t know him.  Sending him out here to find her, to make sure she was in a safe place, that she had what she needed to remain that way?

Cartham was starting to think that it was possibly the biggest mistake Zelig had ever made . . .


“All right.  Out with it.  What’s wrong with this one?”

Shifting her eyes to the side without moving her head, Kelly wasn’t surprised to see that Cartham was standing there, all nearly-six-and-a-half-feet of him, thickly-muscled arms, crossed over his broad chest, black eyebrows, drawn together in a marked frown, but looking rather bored, otherwise, as he waited for her to find some fatal flaw with this apartment, just like she had, the last four of them.

The landlord—a middle-aged guy named Neil with thinning brown hair and the start of a beer belly—had let them in before excusing himself since he had another potential tenant coming to look at the apartment across the hall.  He’d said he’d be right back, but that was about ten minutes ago, and he had yet to poke his face back in again.

The first one had thin walls, she’d said, even though she hadn’t really heard the next-door neighbor, thumping around, as she’d claimed.  The second one’s floor felt entirely uneven—also not true, but good enough, in her estimation.  The third one smelled like a dead body, which was a bit of a stretch, given that it really hadn’t smelled that bad, aside from a kind of stale sort of odor that was more reminiscent of a place that hadn’t been lived in for a month or so and would go away after a thorough scrubbing.  The fourth one?  Well, that one really did have a real flaw.  It was entirely too close to the highway, and the sounds of traffic were very distracting.

‘You’re being ridiculous, you realize.  Besides, do you honestly think that he’s going to go away if you don’t pick a place and just deal with it?’

‘I don’t want his help, remember? I’ll find a place of my own soon enough.  I don’t need anyone’s . . . charity . . .’

‘Except you’re not going to get a choice.  Cain sent him here to make sure that you’re all right, and he’s already said that he’s not leaving till he knows you’re in a decent apartment and are taken care of.  So, just play along, can’t you?  The sooner you do, the sooner he’ll get lost.  Kelly?’

‘What?’

‘. . . Do we want him to get lost . . .?’

That, in her opinion, didn’t deserve an answer, and she made a face at her own capricious thoughts, resolving not to listen to any more of her youkai-voice’s annoying observations for the moment.

This place wasn’t that bad; not really.  Small, yes, but only a block from the hotel where she worked and close to a small grocery store as well as above a drug store where she’d bought a few toiletries on her way home from work.  It was even a few blocks closer to the park where she liked to go on her days off.  Not really big enough for more than one person, but that was all right, and the rent wasn’t bad, either.  There was only one problem that she could see, but that problem . . .

“No,” she stated flatly.

She could feel his gaze narrow on her, but didn’t turn to verify it.  She didn’t need to.  She could feel the intensity of his stare, boring into her back.  “No,” he repeated, stifling the urge to sigh.  “What’s wrong with this one?”

She snorted before she could stop herself, stomping across the empty living room to yank back the thick, beige curtain that hung over one of the two windows.  “That’s what’s wrong,” she insisted, waving a hand at the glass.

He blinked and glanced at the window before the sigh he’d held in check slipped out.  “What’s wrong with that?” he asked in a defeated sort of tone.

Rolling her eyes, Kelly shook her head.  “There are two—two—windows in this place,” she informed him in a tone that indicated that he ought to have realized what the problem was, all on his own.  “Both of them face that building, right there.  Staring at nothing but a brick wall, all day, every day?  Would you be all right with that?”

For a moment, she thought that he was going to argue with her on principle.  In the end, though, he slowly nodded since she had a very good point.  The windows of the place faced the alley between this building and the one beside it with little more than an eight-foot alley between them, and she was quite correct: the only thing she could see out of either of the windows was the ugly, weathered brick wall across the way.

Even so, for some reason, she couldn’t help the trace hint of guilt that ate at her—had been eating at her as she summarily dismissed every apartment they’d looked at.  “It wouldn’t be terrible if there was at least a little sunshine,” she muttered, rubbing her forehead in a weary kind of way.

“You’re right,” he concluded, turning around and heading toward the door.  “Let me go find that guy.  I’ll tell him you’re not interested.”

She watched Cartham go, biting her lip as she tried to ignore the feeling that she was little more than a burden to everyone who knew her.

Wasn’t that why she’d gotten on that bus?  All she’d wanted—the only thing she’d wanted—was to find a place where she could blend in, where she could start over—where people didn’t know her story, didn’t stare and whisper while casting her looks of pity, of scorn, of overwhelming horror—where she didn’t feel like an emotional drain on everyone who knew her . . .

She sighed, rubbing her arms as she paced a few steps, waiting for Cartham to return.  For a fleeting moment, she considered, slipping out of the building, but as soon as the idea occurred to her, she discarded it.  He was a hunter, after all, and that meant that tracking people down was a prerequisite.  Even if she did manage to get away, it wouldn’t really take long for him to find her.

‘Are you sure that’s the only reason you’re not trying to disappear?’

Blinking at the strange question, she shook her head.  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?  What other reason would there be?’

‘What reason, indeed?  Or haven’t you noticed, just how hot that man is?’

‘Wh—I—You—H-He—’

Her youkai-voice laughed indulgently.  ‘Bluster all you want, but you did notice, and before you try to argue the point, remember: I don’t know anything that you don’t know, which means you undeniably did, even if you want to try to say you didn’t.’

‘That made absolutely no sense at all,’ she growled, unable to staunch the heated flush that exploded under her skin.

‘I think it’s those eyes . . . At first, I thought that they were black or nearly black, but they’re not, did you notice?  They’re violet—violet.  I’ve never really seen anyone with eyes that color before.’

Pressing her palms—they were strangely cold—against her burning cheeks, Kelly quickly shook her head—and tried not to think about the color of Cartham’s eyes and the fact that, when he stared at her, she felt the most curious sense of, well, something . . .

‘He’s strong, too, and big, but not so big that he’s scary . . . Did you notice the way his arms just kind of bulge just so, even when he’s not flexing them?  Now, that’s power . . .’

Grinding her teeth together so tightly that they seemed to groan under the stress, she tried to will the blush away, but perversely, she could feel it growing stronger, instead.

‘And maybe you didn’t notice, but he fills out his jeans quite well, too.  You really ought to check him out, you know.’

‘Okay, that’s enough,’ she blurted as her late sense of self-preservation kicked in.  ‘Just . . . Just drop it, will you?  I . . . I don’t care what he looks like.  He’s only here on orders.  It’s not like he cares or anything.  I just met him, and—’

‘Well, of course, we don’t know him yet.  Don’t you think that it might be interesting to get to know him, though?’

Wincing as the fleeting image of the disgust on Pete’s face shot through her head, she sighed.  It was akin to a dousing of cold water, and it effectively put an abrupt end to her wayward thoughts.  ‘No, I don’t,’ she shot back in a more pragmatic tone that was definitely closer to her own usual voice.

Her youkai-voice sighed.  ‘All right, but you’re running out of places to hide.  You like it here, right?  So, would it be that bad to accept Cain’s help?  Just to get settled?  Just to get that brand-new start you wanted?’

She frowned stubbornly, since the voice had led her right back to Square One.  ‘There’s no such thing as help.  There’s always strings attached.  I don’t feel like having that lorded over my head forever.’

‘But you know Cain better than that.  He’s not the type to do any such thing.  When’s he ever done that to Belle?  He’s never done that to you, either.  All those times, growing up, when Belle would ask him to take you both into Bevelle for ice cream or to go to the store . . . He’s never been that way.’

Which meant nothing; not really.  All her life, she’d lived it.  Her parents had always been quick to remind her, just how much things cost them: the yearly school fees, the school field trips . . . the couple vacations she’d gone on with Cain and Belle . . . Everything had cost money, and, as she grew older, there were the fines and costs of the things she’d gotten in trouble for . . . All of those things had come with the incessant reminders of just how much money she’d cost her parents.

“Money doesn’t grow on trees, Kelly Anne . . . Your father had to work overtime to pay your court costs and probation fees . . . The least you can do is try to act a little sorry for causing so much trouble . . . Are you even listening to me?”

If she’d heard those words once, she’d heard them more times than she could count over the years, and now?  Now, she’d be damned if she was going to let anyone say things like that to her again, even if that meant that she had to sleep in a homeless shelter for a while longer . . .


“And she didn’t like any of them.”

Cartham let out a deep breath, leaning back against the wall in the hallway just outside of the hotel room.  As far as he knew, Kelly was watching some television show, but she hadn’t said much more than a couple words since they’d returned here after the fiasco of apartment hunting.   “Not one,” he admitted.  “She did say, though, that she won’t take your money.  Probably why she came up with excuses why none of them were any good.”

Cain sighed.  “I figured it’d be something like that.  Can you find a way to convince her?”

“Dunno, Zelig.  I mean, she’s fine—maybe a little scrawny, but otherwise okay.  She’s working; says she’s got some money saved up already.  Stubborn as hell, is what she is.  I don’t think there’s any convincing her, if you want my honest opinion.”

“Maybe if I fly out . . .”

“I doubt that’s a good idea,” Cartham muttered, dragging his long fingers through his shoulder-length mess of hair, pushing his bangs out of his face, only for them to fall back into place again.  “I don’t know why, but she . . . she seems almost . . . pissed off at you.”

“At me?  Why?”

Cartham grunted.  “No idea.  She doesn’t say much.”

Cain sighed.  “It doesn’t make sense.  I talked to Belle again, and she said that she thought everything was fine, even though Kelly seemed a little distant lately . . . Do you . . .?  Do you think you can get her to talk to you?  Find out what’s going on with her?”

“She said she just wants to start over . . . I don’t know if there’s more to it than that.”

“Yeah, but if you could get her to open up a little bit . . .”

“I’m no social worker, Zelig,” he replied.  “I don’t know if there’s anything I can do.  I’m a hunter.  I don’t go around, trying to get people to talk to me.”

“I know,” Cain agreed.  “I just . . . There’s no one else I can send out there.  Larry’s out on a hunt that’s going to take a while, and Moe . . . Well, there’s no way Moe could get her to talk, not unless she was some kind of electronic device.  Of all my hunters, you’re the best at reading people.  That’s why I asked you, to start with.”

If it were anyone other than Cain Zelig, Cartham might well have thought that he was just trying to blow hot air up his ass.  Cain, however, was about as no-nonsense as they came; he knew that, and, even though he really didn’t hold out much hope that he really could get Kelly to talk, he had to try, for Cain’s sake, at least.

When he didn’t respond right away, Cain sighed—or maybe he was smoking.  With Cain, either of those things was entirely possible.  “You know, I think you should come on back.  I’ll fly out in the morning, get her to listen to me . . . She can’t stay in a shelter.  She’s got to know that, even if she doesn’t want to admit it.  I . . . I should have been the one to take care of this, in the first place.”

“Hold on,” Cartham said, unsure, just why he was saying it, in the first place.  “I may not know her very well, but I can tell that she’s just not going to break down and talk to you.  Stands to reason, anyway.  She ran off without telling anyone, including Bellaniece, her plans, right?  In fact, I’m pretty sure that you’re the last one she’ll talk to.  I’ll handle it.”

“Cartham . . .”

“Never failed you yet, have I?” he grumbled, gaze darkening as a stubborn light ignited in his eyes.  “Not about to start now.”

Cain hesitated before answering, and when he did, the underlying doubt was impossible to miss.  “All right,” he allowed in a strangely weary kind of way.  “How ever you have to do it.”

“Aiyuh,” he grunted.  Lowering the phone, he clicked the ‘end call’ button, sparing a moment to scowl at the device before dropping it into his pocket.

‘Nice speech, Cartham.  So, any idea how you’re going to get her to agree?’

He rubbed his forehead before crossing his arms over his chest, staring blankly at the far wall without really seeing it.  That really was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it?  All he had to do was to figure out, just how to get the obstinate woman to listen to him . . . and to agree to accept the help that was offered . . .