InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ A Tale of Ever After ❯ Chapter 196

[ 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 195

A/N It looks like I will be going out of town for a few days this week; next chapter may be late (posted Saturday) or not until next Tuesday (counting on our schedule).


As opposed to all the action taking place at Daitaro’s house, the atmosphere in Miroku’s house was much calmer.  Sango sat at her seat near the fire pit, working on a small bit of sewing. Naoya lay sleeping in his wicker bed.  Yusuko, her hair bow askew, snuggled up tightly against her father’s shoulder, and he shifted her weight until he felt he had a better hold.  “The villagers, ashamed at how they were going to treat someone who was obviously a kami come to bless them, were truly ashamed.  They headed down to the site where the soldiers were heading to cut down the ancient tree, and formed a circle around it, keeping the soldiers from cutting it down.  The lady of the willow tree turned to the young farmer and  said . . . ”

Sango looked up from her sewing, and saw that her daughters were sound asleep.  “It must be nap time,” she said, standing up and walking over to where a sleeping Noriko was curled against her father’s leg.  “I don’t think they’re awake enough to hear what the lady of the willow tree  said.”  She gave her husband a fond smile, then bent down and picked up Noriko.  “Let me put the girls to bed.”

The monk nodded.  “I’ll help.” Standing up carefully so he wouldn’t wake his sleeping daughter, he followed Sango to the sleeping room.  

She carefully slid open the door to the small chamber, where her bedding was already laid out, the white floor cloth covered by a blue and white coverlet, and then laid Noriko down.

“I’m not surprised they’re already asleep.  They ought to be tired,” Sango said.  She stood up and stretched her back. “The girls played hard enough today.  If they weren’t running around playing chase, they were finding new things to get into.  I’m surprised I got anything done.”  She moved to the side of the bed, letting Miroku have enough room to come in.  “ Getting woken up last night when Rin came over didn’t help, either.”

“Babies will come when they come,” Miroku said softly, walking into the room.  He put his small bundle down next to her sister.

“I know,” Sango said, watching while the monk spread the coverlet over the two girls.  “And it’s not that I mind when Rin comes over when Kaede has midnight calls.   But they were wound up.  Rin has a good way with the girls, though.  She was very helpful this morning when they turned into little wild women.”

Chika, the cat, having woken up from her nap walked into the room and began rubbing her body against Sango’s legs.  “Mrrr,” the cat said.  It sounded like a question.


Sango bent down and picked the small animal up.  “You don’t want to stay in here, Chika-chan.  I’m going to close the door.”

The cat rubbed her head against the woman’s chin, and mewed an agreement, leapt out of Sango’s arms and walked back into the main room.

“She’s got sense, that cat,” Miroku said, as he smoothed a lock of hair out of Noriko’s face.

“I guess it’s all that’s left of her being a bakeneko,” Sango replied.  “Kirara is as smart as anybody.”

“I’m glad the girls get along with her. They must take after their mother.”  He looked at her and smiled.  “Better you than me.  They have your love of cats and a touch of wildness.  It takes something special, I think, to be a good woman warrior.”

“Or perhaps just enough hardheadedness.  That’s what my aunts always accused me of,” she replied.  Her lips were twisted in mock disapproval, but her eyes were amused.  “And I’m not sure if they get that . . . touch of wildness . . . from me or from you.”

“Me?  Wild?” Miroku said, with a small laugh.  He stood up.  “Let’s get into the other room before we wake them up.”  Sango nodded and he and ushered his wife out of the sleeping room and into the main room of the house, sliding the door carefully behind him.  “Are you saying my little taijiyas got their wildness just from me?”

Sango gave him a knowing smile.  “Perhaps . . . perhaps they got a little of that from both of us.”

For a moment, Miroku gave her a winsome smile in return, one that promised more to come, but the twinkle in his eyes died, and turning his head,  he went and sat down at his seat by the fire pit.  Expecting a different reaction, Sango frowned and  went to sit down next to him.

She picked up her sewing and then, looking at how Miroku was sitting,  put it back down.“Are you all right?” she asked.  

Miroku looked up at her for a moment.  Sango was surprised by the solemness she saw there.  It wasn’t exactly worry, and it wasn’t exactly sadness.  She didn’t like what she saw.“Did something happen while you were out?”

“Many things, but nothing quite unexpected,” he said after a moment. “Why do you ask?”

“You have that look on your face you used to get when the shouki poisoning had the better of you,” Sango said, closing her sewing basket.  “You always thought you were hiding behind a joke or something to distract me, but I saw how you looked when you didn’t know I was watching.”

“You know me too well, Sango my dear,” Miroku said.  He gave her a tiny smile, one that didn’t match his eyes.  “But you know I was doing that to spare you.”

“And you should know I don’t need to be protected, husband.”  She snuggled up against him and rested her head against his shoulder.  “So tell me what’s been happening.”

He wrapped an arm around her.  “It was such a rough morning.  Where to begin? Seiji’s trying to cause trouble. He got drunk and beat up one of his sons.  I...I wonder . . . ”

Sango sighed.“I am sad to say, that’s not the first time,” Sango said. “I’ll make some tea. I have a feeling that this is going to be a longer story than the tale of the Lady of the Willow.”

Miroku nodded and let her pull away.  She stirred the fire in the pit, and added a few sticks under the kettle  to make tea.  “Was it his younger one?  I don’t know why, but he always seems to take his anger out on him.”

“Nakao,” the monk said, nodding.  “That is, if his wife doesn’t catch it first.”

“I’ve seen,” Sango said.  “I’ve thought about trying to teach her a thing or two, but I’m afraid I’d make it worse for her.  He’s such a big man. Is the boy all right?”

“I guess,” Miroku said, leaning forward.  He rested his elbows on his thighs and his chin in his hands.  “As good as you can be when your otousan turns on you like that.  It’s a shame she doesn’t have your training.  Seiji deserves a woman who can take him on like I know you could.”

Sango reached for her tea chest, and opened the box.  “He seems to be so unpredictable when he gets into his rages. I wonder what set him off this time.”  She began to measure tea into the pot.  

“We ran into him taking Chiya-sama up to her new quarters.” He ran his fingers through his hair.  “What a mess. This whole morning.  Did you hear? Chiya tried to kill herself this morning.”

That made Sango stop, holding the tea chest in mid air.  “She what?”

“In Kimi-sama’s house, too, right where their girl sleeps, but Eiji stopped her,” Miroku said.  “They tell me this is not the first time she’s tried.”

“Do you think she really meant it?” Sango said.  She looked at the tea pot and added a bit more.

“Who knows?” Miroku said shrugging.  “Although as much as she likes attention, I doubt it.  Tsuneo had been cleaning up his old family place down by the river.”

“I’d heard that,” she said.  She poked the fire, and a piece of flame flared redly under the iron kettle.  “Wasn’t he going to put the Yamabushi up there?”
Miroku nodded.  “But there’s a second son’s house there, too, and that’s where they’re putting Chiya.  Anyway, as  we were walking her back up to Tsuneo’s old place, Seiji stepped out of nowhere.”  He reached over and resting a hand on Sango’s thigh.  It was not a suggestive gesture. “It’s like . . .  I know he had heard the news already.”

“I’m not surprised at that,” Sango said, putting the tea chest away.  “I suspect everybody in the village knew that Michio had kicked her out.”

“Ah,” Miroku said, sitting up.  “But now it gets interesting. It seems that Seiji’s held a flame for Chiya all these years.”

Sango frowned.  “That . . . that . . . monster?”  She shuddered.  “I wouldn’t want his attention for anything.”

Miroku nodded.  “That was pretty much Chiya’s reaction. I was told that when Tsuneo let it be known that Chiya and Michio were going to be married, Seiji tried to burn down Michio’s house.  And beat him up in the process.”

Her eyes widened.  “He didn’t!  And the elders let him stay?”

Miroku nodded.  “He did indeed, dearest Sango.  Actually, that’s when he ran off to join the army.  It’s obvious that his experience with the Houjou didn’t do his anger any good.  You’ve seen how he is.  And Chiya’s more than a little frightened of him, too.  Can’t say I blame her. He’s probably the biggest man in the village.  And we all have seen how he treats his family.”

Sango got up and walked over to her kitchen cabinet, where she got a plate and put a couple of sweets on it.

“Still,” Miroku said, watching his wife, “Karma is karma.  I cannot say I am yet at peace about how Chiya-sama treated you.  I...well, I cannot really talk to her now until I deal with my own anger.  Everything I would tell her would be colored by that.”

Walking back to where they were sitting, Sango put the plate on the mat next to her husband.  “You know I am not accusing you of anything, Miroku,” she said.  She reached out and took one of his hands.

“It’s not that,” the young monk said.  “It’s . . . ”  He sighed and laced his fingers into her hand and used his other to cup it as well.  “I failed to protect you.  I should have seen . . . ”

Sango shook her head.  “No.  I thought we talked through that last night.”

He sighed, and gave her a slightly sad, slightly defeated look.  “After all today . . . It came back.  But something in me is worried about Seiji.  InuYasha had to knock him out in front of Kaede’s house.  His son and his wife were there, and if Susumu and Eiji and InuYasha had not been around, I don’t know exactly what would have happened.”
“But he’s married,” Sango said.  The water in the kettle had gotten hot enough, and she poured it into her teapot.  “So what good does it do for him to pine over a woman who doesn’t want him?”

“I wouldn’t say what he did was pine,” Miroku said, picking up one of the treats.  “More like . . . not exactly threaten, but he announced that if Michio was getting rid of his wife, he’d take her on.”  Miroku unwrapped the chimaki and popped it into his mouth.  “I don’t have any idea what he plans to do with his own woman.”

Sango passed a cup of tea to her husband.  He took it, and reaching over, poured a cup for her.

“Surely you don’t think he’s going to try something, do you?”  Sango asked.

“I...I don’t think so,” Miroku said.  “But I’m not ready to deal with it.”

“What are you ready to deal with?” Sango asked, taking a sip of her own tea.

He closed his eyes, took another sip of the tea.  “Perhaps,” he said, “I should leave all of that outside.”

“That would be a good start,” Sango said, nodding.

“Perhaps,” he said, looking at his wife, “I should remember the Buddha’s teaching and remember the story about the man caught between two deadly tigers.”

“What did the Buddha teach?” Sango asked, sipping her tea again.

“In the story, with certain death above and below him, he decided to eat wild strawberries.”  He grabbed his wife’s hand.  “They were very sweet.”

He pulled her to him.  She looked up and saw something more like his normal self looking back at her, his violet eyes still shadowed, but not as deeply.  She put her cup down, and leaned into his embrace.  She could feel his breath on her cheek.

“How sweet were they?” she asked.

“This sweet,” Miroku said, taking her mouth with his.

It was a very pleasant kiss.  But before they were ready to come up for air, Naoya woke up.