InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ A Tale of Ever After ❯ Chapter 167

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

I do not own InuYasha or any of the characters created by Rumiko Takahashi


Chapter 166

“Chiya-chan?” Kimi said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Chiya closed her eyes and swallowed. Her hand stilled for a moment. “I...I have to burn down my own house. Maybe in my next life...”

Kimi hesitated over what Chiya was attempting to do, afraid to move or even breathe.  

She started to move the knife again and stopped. “Tell Michio I’m - ”

Suddenly the screen separating her from the rest of the main room came crashing down, breaking a bowl that fell off the cupboard as it landed. For a moment, Chiya merely stared at the scene painted on the screen and the broken pottery shards that had landed on it.

“An earthquake?” she said. Her eyes grew wide and she looked up at the roof before turning just in time to see Eiji leap past his wife and head straight for her, his face red and fierce. The knife fell out of her hand as she threw her arms up as he landed on her, knocking her backwards.

He sprawled on top of her, pinning her wrists to the ground and letting his body weight keep her from moving too much.

Kimi, unfreezing, ran and picked up the knife. “Eiji?”

He ignored her. “Damn it, Chiya, haven’t you learned anything?” He backed off her a little bit, enough to glare at her. “You’re such a shit, doing crap like this to the one person willing to take you in.”

For a moment, she looked at him, shocked by his actions, and moved her mouth wordlessly, groping for her voice. Her shock gave way to indignation, and with that, her voice came back as well.

“How dare you?” Chiya said. “Get off of me!” She tried to arch up and roll, but his weight was too much for her.

“The hells I will.” The normally calm and jovial Eiji was furious, his eyes narrowed with anger and his face red. “You’re going to listen to me.” He glanced up at his wife. “Kimi-chan, go find me something I can tie this useless woman up with.” He turned back to Chiya. “Just in case I can’t get her to listen any other way.”

“But...” Kimi said, hesitating and wringing her hands.

“Just do it, woman. Be careful though. There’s shards on the floor.” He gave Kimi another glance, and seeing the look in his eyes, the woman nodded once, and walked across the room to a chest that she opened and began rummaging through.

Chiya struggled to free her hands. “You’re hurting me! Get off!”

“You’re an ugly excuse for a woman, Chiya,” he said, glaring at her. “You just don’t get it.”

“You’re no better than the rest of them. Why Kimi stays with you...” Chiya said through gritted teeth.

“I’d rather be no better than the rest of them, whoever they are.” He shifted his weight to secure his hold on her hands, which she was trying hard to pull out of his grasp. “You only thought you learned the lesson about that monk if you can talk like that. What the hell were you thinking? What about your children? Your husband?”

“Get off of me!” She turned her head to the side, no longer willing to meet his gaze. “I’ve ruined everything. I want to die. What right do you have to stop me?”

He shook his head. “If you weren’t the wife of my friend, and the friend of my wife...” Kimi hurried back with a length of rope she used to hang up clothes. “So you were just going to cut your throat and bleed out all over our house. Here in the space my daughter sleeps in. You think I want my children to see that? You think I want your ghost hanging around here, making us miserable because you couldn’t think past your own nose?”

“What...what do we do?” Kimi asked.

“But...but...” Chiya said. The anger drained from her face, and she began to weep. “Everything is ruined.”

Eiji shifted again and grabbed both of her hands and forced them together. “Wrap the rope around her wrists.”

Kimi nodded and began doing it.

“You said the monk in the story was guilty of having no compassion, and only caring about his own salvation,” he said, watching his wife secure the woman’s hands. When they were secure enough, he lifted himself off her. “And you knew that was your sin, too. So you were going to keep on acting just that way, not caring that you were going to stab yourself where my daughter sleeps, not caring about your children or even Michio who, for whatever manic reason, still loves you. You think killing yourself is going to do anything but get you sent to hell?” He stood up and brushed his hakama off.

He took the end of the cord from Kimi’s hand and made a secure knot, leaving a long tail, then tugged Chiya up into a sitting position. After that, he tied the long end of the rope to one of the roof rafters.

“You will sit here, and you will wait for your otousan and the elders to come tell you what they are going to do with you.” Eiji gave the rope a final tug to make sure the rope was secure. He brushed his hands clean. “You cost your husband a lot of face yesterday. You won’t be allowed home until all are satisfied that you have done enough to make up for it. I suggest you spend some time thinking about what it means to have compassion, because you’re fast using up what little compassion people around you had to give you.”

He turned to his wife who was kneeling on the ground near the screen. “You are a saint, my dear wife, but sometimes, even a saint has trouble saving a soul who doesn’t want to be saved. Maybe though, you can explain Houshi-sama’s story to her better than he did.”

She looked up at him. “I’m sorry, husband.” Her eyes were glittering with emotions of her own.

“Eh,” Eiji said. “I heard she tried this the last time they did this stunt. I’m not surprised - just angry that she’d to it to you, and in our home.” He lifted up the screen and put it back in its place, then bent over and picked up the pieces of the broken dish, and sighed.

“That was Tazu-chan’s favorite bowl,” he said, shaking his head sadly. Holding the pieces in his hand, he went outside.



As Eiji dealt with Chiya, Miroku and Tameo neared Tsuneo’s place. The early dawn had given way to prime morning time, and people were beginning to move around the village.

“Such a lovely morning,” Miroku noted.

“Too fine a morning for what we have to do,” the headman said. “I should be out in the fields. I hope things settle down soon. We’ll be buying soybeans to make miso this year if they don’t.” He sighed. “I might have all these other things to worry about, but I’m still a farmer at heart.”

Isamu was heading out to the fields, his hoe on his shoulder. He waved to the two men walking.
“You’re out and about early, Tameo-sama.”

“Seems that way,” the headman said, nodding. “Yesterday has spilled into today, it seems.”

Isamu nodded. “I thought it might. When Chiya gets in one of her snits...”

Tameo sighed and gave the man a rueful smile. “Even the headman has to pay attention.”

“You two sound like old hands at this,” Miroku said, leaning on his staff.

“Oh yes. The last time I was wondering if there wasn’t going to be a war between some of the women,” Isamu said. “It’s a wearying thing. She throws a public fit, and Michio reacts. She’ll do things trying to get him to take her back right away. Sometimes, she even threatens to kill herself.  Last time, she pulled that stunt in front of everybody in her husband’s ko.”

Tameo scratched his chin. “I remember that. It was at their family festival, right before rice planting.”

“My Yaya heard that he called her bluff on that one, and left her standing in a group of her women friends,” Isamu said, shifting his hoe from one shoulder to the other. “Might have done us all a favor if she had carried it out, but instead, she just started crying. Toshiro was fit to be tied. He cancelled the feast, and had to do it another day because of the bad luck it was going to cause.”

“I thought half of Toshiro’s people were going to jump Michio because of that one,” Tameo said, nodding. “And the other half wanted me to kick Chiya out of the village. Took a lot of placating to get everything smoothed over.”

“It’s a good thing Tsuneo has an open hand when it comes to Chiya,” Isamu said. “Or poor Michio would still be paying off what smoothing things over cost.”

Miroku frowned. “When did this happen?”

Isamu scratched his chin, thinking. “What was it, Tameo-ojisan, about five years ago?”

“Six, I think,” Tameo said, counting on his fingers. “It was the year before the birth of their youngest.”

“Funny how a baby came out of that mess,” Isamu said, smiling. “Some women were wondering if it wasn’t to bribe him to not cast her out again.”

“Stranger things have happened,” Miroku said. “But I didn’t know that she got that way.”

“She’s always been an emotional one, even when she was little,” Tameo said. He shrugged. “It takes all types, I guess.”

Miroku sucked on his lip a moment, thinking, and nodded.

Saying their farewells, the men parted. Tameo looked at Isamu with some envy.


Even before they made the last bend in the path that would lead them to Tsuneo’s house, they could hear singing.

“Weed, weed,
why are you so tall?
The better to reach
above the mizuna.

“Weed, weed,
why are you so deep?
The better to protect myself
when you want to pull me.”

“Who’s that?” Miroku asked.

“Oh, no doubt Amaya, working in her garden,” Tameo said. “It’s her pride and joy. After her husband went off to Odawara, it became her special place.”

“Weed, weed,
why are you so bitter?
The better to stay away
from your cooking pot.”

As they drew closer, they could see the thin woman, a straw hat over her head, bending in her vegetable patch. There was indeed a small pile of weeds to the side of the bed, where she had been working.

“Weed, weed,
why are you so seedy?
The better to spread my children
so you have more to do.”

Not seeing the men, she straightened up, and rubbed her back. Picking up her hoe, she looked around the garden with some satisfaction.

Suddenly there was a shout from the back of the house. “The monster’s coming. I have to get it!” a man’s voice bellowed.

Amaya turned, just in time to see Morio, carrying a big stick and the lid to Haname’s pickle tub, run into her garden, kicking through two rows of greens and stomping on some eggplants.

“Damn you, man,” Amaya said. She brandished her hoe like it was a weapon. “I’ll give you monster! Get out of my garden.”

“But I heard him, Amaya-obasan!” Morio said. “Didn’t you see him?”

As Morio held the pickle lid up as a shield to ward off Amaya’s hoe handle coming his way, Miroku sighed and turned to the headman. “I certainly hope your plan works. I don’t know how much more this poor family can take.”

“You and me both. I’m ready to have a little talk with the kami about this,” Tameo said, and both men ran to help Amaya get Morio back to the house.