InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ A Tale of Ever After ❯ Chapter 174

[ 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 173


InuYasha headed back outside after he finished breakfast to see Shinjiro and Choujiro sawing one of the logs he had cut into lengths that would give them the size of boards they wanted. Daitaro was sitting under one of the trees near the workmen, watching the two pull the saw back and forth.

The old farmer spotted InuYasha before he got there.  As he watched the hanyou draw close, he grinned. “Look at those two go. It makes me tired watching them,” he said, patting the ground next to him.

Moving next to the farmer, InuYasha squatted down. “Leaving the hard work to the younger ones again?”

“Prerogative of age,” Daitaro said, looking rather self-satisfied. “I did my share when I was younger, and my father sat in the shade.”

InuYasha snickered. “At least I got the log up for them. A lot easier to saw through if it’s not on the ground.”

“I do believe Choujiro was suitably impressed,” Daitaro said. “Don’t be surprised if people start asking you to help when there’s heavy lifting work to do.”

“Feh,” InuYasha said. “I’m not a pack animal.”

Daitaro laughed. “No, no you’re not. And not a roofer, either. But I bet you do just fine helping to put up the posts and frame for a house.”

“Maybe,” InuYasha said, plucking a blade of grass. “Helped with this house and Miroku’s.”

Daitaro rubbed the back of his head. “I hear Arimasu’s youngest son is getting ready to rebuild his house. He better. Last time I checked, it looked like the next typhoon that comes through here might blow it down. His grandfather built it, and that’s a long time for an old place like that. He didn’t do the supports right. A lot of people didn’t back then.”

InuYasha shrugged. Before he could think up an answer, Choujiro shouted, “Watch out!” This was followed by a loud crash.

The hanyou looked up to see Shinjiro on the ground, face down, and next to him, a cut section of the log that had evidently fallen off the supports InuYasha had set it up on. Choujiro knelt over the fallen man, poking him in the shoulder.

Daitaro got to his feet with surprising agility for someone his size and age. “Hells, if anything happens to that boy before tomorrow, Chime’ll kill me,” he said, but the concern in his voice was real. “I forget how sawing wood isn’t the safest work.”

InuYasha didn’t say anything as he jumped up, but he made it to Shinjiro’s side just as Kagome stepped out of the house. Seeing the fallen man, she too made a dash to his side.

Choujiro looked up at the hanyou. “We were just about through the cut, and he was moving to support the end. Next thing I know, the log rolled and I found him on the ground.”

“He’s not bleeding,” the hanyou said, kneeling down next to him. His nostrils flared, scenting. “At least not much. Hey, Shinjiro,” he said, giving the man’s shoulder a small shake.  
 
Shinjiro groaned.

“Well, at least he’s alive,” Daitaro said, looking down on the three men. “At least Chime will only skin me, not kill me.”

“You know she will do no such thing, Daitaro-ojiisan,” Kagome said, joining the men. “InuYasha, could you get me the water bucket?” she asked as she knelt down next to him. “And one of the towels.”

The hanyou nodded. Seeing the look the other two men gave him, his ear flicked. “Feh,” he said.  “I’m the fastest.”

Choujiro shrugged. “Should I go get Kaede-sama?”

“Help me roll him over,” Kagome said. “But carefully. We don’t want to make him worse.”

“Only if Kagome-chan thinks so. That girl’s had a lot of practice treating injuries, I’ve heard,” Daitaro said, as the two rolled his son on his back. “And Kaede’s going to be trying to get some rest after being up all night. That husband of hers has a tendency to get hurt a lot. She’s had a lot of practice.”

Kagome snickered a little bit, but not enough time to stop her examination. The mostly unconscious man had scraped his knee and the palms of both hands. There was a smear of dirt on Shinjiro’s chin, and it was already starting to bruise.

“Feh,” InuYasha said, returning with the bucket. “Only get hurt when I’m helping out.”

“Or roofing,” Daitaro added. He bent close to examine the injured man. “Looks like the damn fool knocked himself out.”

“Bumped his chin?” InuYasha said, handing Kagome a towel which she wetted.

“Looks like that to me,” Kagome said. She began to carefully clean the skin on his chin. “Let’s hope he didn’t hurt his teeth or neck.”

“He’s going to look like he’s been in a fight,” Choujiro said. “Wonder what Chime-sama’s going to say about that?”

“As long as he’s in fit shape to be married tomorrow, she’ll be thankful,” Daitaro said, shrugging.  “It does look like he’s been in a fight. I used to could throw a punch that’d leave a mark like that.” The old farmer looked at his right hand, then made a fist. It was hard for him to close his hand all the way, and he sighed. “But even I know better than to get into a fight with the land. The land always wins.”

As the cloth cleared off a scraped area, Shinjiro groaned.

“At least the log didn’t roll on him,” InuYasha said, nodding. “I’ve been there a time or two, when the land won.”

“I will give thanks for that,” the farmer said. “You can fall off a roof and get right back up. Not so easy for most of us.”

Kagome began to work on his scraped knee. Shinjiro flexed his knees and opened his eyes.

“Hurts,” he said. He tried to sit up, but his father pushed him back down.

“If you didn’t want to go through with the wedding, son,” Daitaro said, “you need to find a better way than getting into a fight with a log.”

As Shinjiro looked up at his father, still not quite sure what was going on, Choujiro said, “Maybe a log is better than Chime’s wrath?”

“She’s going to be wrathful enough, seeing what you did to your knee,” Daitaro said. “You may wish the log had been more successful.”

All the men besides Shinjiro chuckled. Kagome, frowning, gave them an evil look and shook her head. It wasn’t as strong as Hisa’s, but it was enough to make InuYasha step back.



Back at Eiji’s house, Fujime looked at Chiya, her arms folded and her face pursed. The woman, holding her bound wrists up to her face wept for several minutes, but Fujime didn’t say anything, merely watched.

Slowly the sobs slowed down. Chiya uncovered her face and glared at the woman. “Did...” she said, still choking on her words, “did you just...come here...to...gloat?”

“Gloat?” Fujime said. Why would I gloat?” She pulled a handkerchief out of her sleeve. “I’m here because Eiji asked me to check up on you.” Handing it to Chiya, she watched the woman awkwardly wipe her face. “I have other things I could be doing besides gloating over a woman who seems determined to make a wreck of her life.”

“I?” Chiya asked. “I’m...”

“You? You’re a fool,” Fujime said. Her brows knit together, making her look even more stern than she did when she walked into the room. “Don’t play victim to me. I’ve known you since before you were born. I’ve watched you since you were a toddler, and then a girl in the sewing classes.”  

Chiya began to pull herself up by the rope. “So?”

“You think we women didn’t notice what you were doing?” Fujime said. “How you played one girl off the other to get attention and have your way?”

The bound woman stood up tall, her eyes narrowed. “You’re just jealous that your daughter -“

Fujime, not willing to hear any more nonsense, slapped Chiya.

For a moment, Chiya didn’t do anything, but stand there, mouth open, her hands coming up to her cheek. “I...I...I...”

“That’s it,” Fujime said. She wagged her finger at the woman, beating a rhythm as she made a verbal list, her finger coming down at each point. “It’s always about Chiya. Chiya wanted to be Houshi-sama’s favorite disciple, so she began a campaign against his wife. Chiya refuses to believe the word of the kami about InuYasha-sama. Chiya didn’t think about her husband when she refused to do what he wanted in public. Chiya didn’t think about her mother who she claims to love or what it would do to her friend or her friend’s family when she pulled out the knife today. Chiya only thinks about Chiya and how Chiya can get her way.”

During this, the woman first grew angry, but deflated some when Fujime mentioned her mother. She sank back to her knees. “Okaasan,” Chiya said. “I didn’t . . . ”

“No, you didn’t think,” Fujime said. “Nobody’s told your mother what’s going on, because she is too sick right now. What would she say if she found out you took your life in a moment of spite to get back at Michio?”

For a moment Chiya’s face was smooth and emotionless. Then her face grew red and angry and she lunged towards Fujime. “Shut up! Just shut up! What do you know?”

Fujime, who had expected this, had pulled back beyond the bound woman’s reach. Still her face looked mildly alarmed, and she looked up at the roof beam to see how well the knot was holding. “I know plenty, stupid woman. I certainly know more than to get my husband to throw me out of the house and need the kindness of friends to take me in. I know more than how to enrage my friends by trying to defile their house with my own blood.”

Chiya shrieked again. “Shut up! Shut up!”

“I will not shut up. You better listen to me,” Fujime said, crossing her arms once again. “Your options are fast running out. You need to realize what you’ve done.”

The bound woman took a deep breath, standing at her full height. “All I did was tell them that -”

“All you did was try to come between the monk and his wife the last three years.” Fujime took a step closer.“ All you did was dishonor the roofing party by having a temper tantrum. All you did was insult the very person who was for some foolish reason, kind enough to take you in. All you did was strip your husband of face in front of his friends. Why?”

“I...my okaasan...my...” Chiya’s face, still red with anger, contorted, and she pulled on the rope tying her to the roof beam. “It’s not fair! Houshi-sama shouldn’t be married. That...that white-haired freak...” Her nostrils flared and her hands clenched as she fought for words.  “You know...”

“Bah,” Fujime said. “I know that you treat your husband like a toy. Don’t think Michio’s some doll you can beat up, and then pretend it never happened. You shamed him in front of his friends. You expect him to walk in here and tell you all is forgiven?”

“I - ”

Whatever it was she was about to say got interrupted as the door opened, and several people entered the house. A shadow passed in front of the screen, and large male hands moved it out of the way. What was revealed was Tameo and Tsuneo, Miroku and Susumu, with Eiji drawing up behind. But leading the group was Michio.

“Yes, woman,” he said, his lips clenched tight and his eyes narrowed. His face was exhausted, but set in a stern, unyielding mask while his hands at his side were clenching into fists and unclenching. “Yes, tell me. What do you expect me to say to you after all this?”