InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ A Tale of Ever After ❯ Chapter 177

[ 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 176

For a moment, Chiya sat there, looking down and rubbing her wrists. They were red where the rope had rubbed them.

“Time to stand up, daughter,” Tsuneo said. He did not offer her a hand.

She nodded, and rose to her feet. Susumu, noticing her scarf and fan on the floor, picked them up and handed them to the woman. “No doubt, Eiji still has your knife, but I can give you these.”

Chiya looked up at him, surprised. “You are a kind man, Susumu-sama,” she said, bowing before she accepted them.

His eyes, not as merry as usual, but not angry, either, met hers, and his face was solemn. “I have been accused of that before. It surprises people until they step out of line,” he replied, watching her put her fan in her belt and tie her head scarf on. As she finished the bow in the front, he said. “If you break the rules that Tsuneo-sama and Chichi-ue give you, I will do everything I am supposed to do.”

She looked at the ground, and gave him a small nod.

Tameo scratched the back of his neck. “Well, I think it’s time we give Eiji’s house back to him,” he said. “He’s been more than patient. The sooner we get here, the sooner we can take care of Morio.”

“True,” Tsuneo said. “Hana-chan and Hiroki are waiting.”

“Hiroki?” Chiya asked. “Where...where are we going?”

“To the second son’s house by the river,” Tsuneo said. “A good enough place to do your spinning.”

“Isn’t that where you...” Chiya said, a touch of worry in her eyes, but looking at her father’s face, she bowed her head. “Please, Otousan, please don’t let that crazy man hurt me.”

He didn’t reply.

“Nobody’s going to let anybody hurt you, Chiya,” Susumu said, crossing his arms. “But the same goes for you.”

Tameo coughed. “Well, we won’t get there by talking,” Tameo said, using that as a cue to get things moving. Turning, he walked to the door.

They filed out, Tameo, then Tsuneo. Chiya was next. She did not look up any more than necessary. Susumu followed, and last was Miroku, looking very somber, with his professional monk look firmly planted on his face.

Eiji stood there, his wife’s clothesline coiled up in his hands still his eyes torn between relief and anger, watching them exit. “Do you want me to follow? Just in case.”

Tameo stopped the little procession, giving Eiji a careful look. “Only if you want to. But after last night and this morning, maybe you might have other things you’d rather do. That young one of yours sounded like he had a claim on his Otousan’s time, maybe more important than this.”

The younger man let a long drawn out breath, and suddenly looked very tired. He nodded. “Send for me if you need me. I may go over and check up on Michio. His otousan...well, he’s never been one to be able to handle Michio when he gets like this.”

Chiya took a deep breath and swallowed hard. “He...he hides some sake behind the miso vats,” she said, not looking at anybody.

Eiji nodded. “Good luck with your work,” he said. “I’m going to go see if Kimi-chan’s at Haha-ue’s. It sounded like she was heading that way.”

Taking their leave, the procession headed down the road.



Up on the hill, Daitaro watched his son walk on his stiff knee. “Are you sure you didn’t sprain anything?”

“I don’t think so,” Shinjiro said. “Ankle doesn’t hurt.”

“Good,” the old man said. “You’re ready to face your Okaasan?”

“Not really,” the younger man admitted.

“Me, either. Thought we might go down and check up on Michio. What do you think?”

“Angry friend or angry mother...” the younger man said. “A hard decision, Chi-chi.”

Kagome cleared her throat and frowned a little as she picked up her medical supplies.

Daitaro laughed at the face she gave them. “You know we’re not afraid of my dear wife, Miko-sama, even if we make a game of it. Today...well, she’s very busy. We don’t want to make her worry if there’s nothing to worry about.”

Kagome’s face smoothed, and a touch of a smile reached her lips. “There should be nothing to worry about.”

“Keh,” the hanyou said. “Old man’s just about as much of a jokester as Miroku.”

That made the old farmer laugh. “You put me in noble company, InuYasha.”

“I don’t know,” Shinjiro said, rubbing his chin, “I would say Chichi-ue’s got one up on him. What do you think, Choujiro?”

“That your otousan makes the best sake in the village, and I don’t want to say anything that will keep him from sharing.” The woodworker began to drive a wedge into one end of the log to begin the board-making process.

“Choujiro sounds like a smart man,” InuYasha said.

“He does indeed,” Daitaro said. “Stop by tomorrow evening, or the day after, Choujiro. I’ll make sure there’s some put on the side for you. No telling how much all the gluttons are going to drink at the wedding.”

“Otousan, there’s no way you don’t have enough stashed away to last until the next brewing season,” Shinjiro said.

“Bah,” Daitaro said, scratching under his chin. “What do you know? Would have been more if that brat hadn’t spoiled the batch he did.”

“Well,” Kagome said, standing up with her supplies in hand, “I’m sure you’ll get enough work out of him to make up for any loss.”

“He owes me,” the old man said, nodding.

“When is he showing up, anyway?” InuYasha asked.  

“Day after tomorrow.” Daitaro looked at his son. “Although maybe it ought to have been next tenday.”

“I wish,” Shinjiro said. “Although Kinjiro may have wished it was yesterday.”

“No doubt,” Kagome said. “Let’s just hope he’s learned a thing or two.”

“Like not running off,” Shinjiro said. “You better keep a good eye on him, Otousan. I’m going to have other things in mind for the next few days.”

Daitaro turned towards InuYasha.

“Don’t look at me, old man,” the hanyou said. “I’m tired of rescuing his stupid butt.”

“Maybe if I locked him in with the cows...” Daitaro shook his head. “No, that won’t work. Might put Okuro off his feed. I’ll figure out something. Let’s go see what they’re doing down the hill, son. Putting up with an angry friend sounds a lot better than putting up with your okaasan fretting.”

Making his farewells, the old farmer and his son headed down the hill.


Tameo’s procession had barely gotten past Fujime’s house, when they began to be watched by a small group of villagers. As they headed for the river, some of them, mostly boys, began to follow back at a distance.

“Well,” Miroku said. “It looks like that the word has gotten out.”

“Indeed,” Susumu said. “It doesn’t take long in a village this sized. I’m sure nearly everybody knows what happened. There were enough of us at the roofing party. Don’t know who spread the word this morning.”

Chiya alternated between holding her head up proudly, and covering her face. “Koume. She knew.” Her voice was bitter. “She hates me. What she said yesterday -”

“Be quiet, daughter,” Tsuneo said, dropping next to her. “You’ve brought enough shame on us.”

She took a deep breath, wanting to argue, then dropped her head.

“Maybe now, she’ll learn to hold that tongue of hers,” a woman said, loud enough to be overheard.

Susumu turned around, and looked at the speaker, a small, plain-dressed woman who was carrying a large, covered basket. “Go home, Mime-chan. Doesn’t Takashi have better things for you to do today?”

“Hirame-sama sent me out to check on her aunt,” the woman said, just a little abashed at being singled out, but she still gave him a slightly defiant look.

“Then go check on Tahe-obasan,” Susumu said. “Don’t stand in the road. We have work to do.”

“Patience, son,” Tameo said. “They will talk. Let’s get this done.”

Susumu nodded. Mime wasn’t the only one to say something rude, but after that point, they no longer stopped.

The boys trailing them, though, began to sing.

“Who knows that woman?
Is she a good one
is she kind?
Yoi, yoi, yoi.”

“And now this?” Tsuneo said.


“She kindly beat the chicken,
she kindly beat the dog,
she kindly beat the baby,
Yoi, yoi yoi.”

Chiya stopped for a moment. Her fists clenched, and it was impossible to tell if she was trying not to yell or not to cry.

“Come on, girl,” Tsuneo said. “The sooner we get there, the sooner you don’t have to put up with this.”

She started to say something. Her lips moved, but no words came out. Instead, she took a deep breath, nodded once and began to walk again. But her hands did not relax.

“Who knows that woman?
Does she listen,
does she talk?
Yoi, yoi, yoi.

“She listens while she talks,
she listens while she argues,
she listens while she screams,
Yoi, yoi, yoi. “

The headman and his son, unlike Tsuneo, seemed mostly amused.

“Those boys can really be brats,” Susumu said.

“Reminds me of you,” Tameo replied, giving his son a wry grin. “I seem to remember giving you a slap or two on your backside for acting like this.”

Susumu rubbed his hip. “I seem to remember that, too.”

Miroku, on the other hand, watching Tsuneo walk with his daughter, frowned and clenched his staff a little tighter.

“Who knows that woman?
Is she pious,
is she devout?
Yoi, yoi, yoi.

“She beats the monks for a blessing,
She chases the - ”

Whirling around, Miroku held his staff in both hands. “That’s enough.” He took a few steps towards the boys. They scattered, but he managed to get a couple by the neck of their shirts then used his staff as a bar to help keep them in place snug up against him. “Don’t you have anything better to do? Did you know there is a great bird, larger than any eagle that eats boys who mock the unfortunate?”

The youngest, a boy named Sho, shook his head. “Let me go, Houshi-sama. I wasn’t singing.”

“But you were with them,” the monk said. He bent his head closer to the two. “The Karura is a holy bird, dedicated to justice. And did you know that if you keep doing this, that after he eats you, that bird will stop by and tell your father what you did?”

This time it was the older boy, Makoto, stopped struggling, and looked Miroku in the eye. “I don’t believe you. My ojiisan told me the Karura only eats dragons.”

“It shows how much he knows, boy. But if the bird doesn’t, I will. Go,” Miroku said, and gave them a shove. “If you follow us, I will do the Karura’s job for him.”

As they ran off, he turned and caught up with the procession, which had stopped to watch.

“They got on your nerves, eh?” Tameo asked as they began walking again.

“Bad singing,” the monk said. “We’ve got enough to do without that.”

Tsuneo gave Miroku an appreciative look.

“That story about the birds,” Susumu said. “That was a good one.”

“They exist,” Miroku replied. “I’ve seen them before. Not a pleasant sight. They just don’t appear very often when you want them to. And, fortunately, small boys are not their favorite meal.”

“It’s a good thing,” the guard said. “Otherwise, I’d probably never made it to adulthood.”

Miroku gave a short bark of a laugh. “Me, either.”

After that, the group of spectators thinned out. The procession was about to turn onto the road when someone stepped onto the road.

He was a big man, taller than most of the villagers. He stood there, feet spread out, hoe over one shoulder. There was a scar that ran down his chin, and his eyes flashed with disapproval. “So, Tsuneo, I see you’ve cast your lot with Tameo’s bunch.” His eyes glared at Susumu. “I’m not surprised how it’s hit your family - between them and their love of youkai. And now your daughter, too?”

“Seiji-sama, get out of the road,” Tameo said. “We have official business to do.”

“If you want to call what you do business.” He shoved past them. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”