InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ A Tale of Ever After ❯ Chapter 234

[ 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 233

After InuYasha left, Kagome walked back into Sango’s house, and lost in thought. As Sango worked at her kitchen counter, preparing some vegetables for the midday meal, the young miko went and sat down near the fire pit, and drew up her knees close to her body, resting her cheek on her knees, and sighed.

“Genjo sent Mariko home,” she said.

Sango picked up an onion and began to peel it. “That’s probably a good thing. I am sure Chime needs her more than we do.”

“Yeah,” Kagome said. “How’s Maeme-chan?”

“I haven’t heard anything,” the taijiya replied. “She’s been very quiet.” She began to chop the onion. The heaviness of how her blade fell across the feckless vegetable revealed her own agitation.

Kagome walked to the back of the house and slid the door to the sleep room open. The unconscious woman lay there on her side, eyes closed. Her hand twitched a moment while Kagome stood there, looking at her, but made no real sign she was aware of anything happening around her.

“Maeme-chan, just let me know if you need something,” Kagome said softly. The woman lay there unmoving, her face marked with lines, too thin and tired, her long hair damply laying over the straw and sheet, cascading around her like a black aurora streaked with gray.  It emphasized her smallness, making her seem especially frail to the young miko. Shaking her head, Kagome slid the door shut and walked back towards the fire pit.

As she neared, the front door slid open, and one of the twins ran in.

“Ha-ha, Ha-ha,” Noriko said, excited and almost out of breath.  Someone was calling her name from outside of the house. “Baachan! ”

Sango looked up. “Baachan?” she said. “Kaede-obachan?”

Noriko nodded.

Rin ran into the house and picked up the girl. “Noriko-chan shouldn’t run away from Rin like that,” the girl said. The toddler tried to wiggle out of the girl’s arms, but this time Rin was prepared and wasn’t having any of it. “You know that your otousan asked Rin to watch you.”

The girl frowned and crossed her arms. “But Baachan!”

“Kaede-obaasan is coming?” Sango asked, stopping her cutting, and putting the contents of her cutting board into a bowl.  

“Yes she is,” said a familiar voice. Sango, Rin and Kagome turned to see the familiar form of the old miko step through the door.

“See?” Noriko said, “Baachan!”

This made the old miko smile, as she walked further into the house. She slipped out of her sandals. “I hear you had a rather eventful morning. Furume-chan was quite impressed with everything that happened.”

Noriko held out her hands towards Kaede, but Rin shook her head. “Not right now, little one. Kaede-sama has work to do. Don’t you remember, poor Maeme-sama’s in bed, waiting for Kaede-obasan? We’ll go play with your sister and Tazu.”

The toddler was not pleased with the answer, but before she could say anything, Rin took her outside.  

Sango wiped her hands on a towel. “We’ve had more excitement today than I expected,” she said. “After what happened, it’s a good thing that...husband...of hers wasn’t around. He’s safer in the lockup than he would have been anywhere near me, much less InuYasha or Miroku.”

“It is supposed to be a fortunate day,” Kaede said. “Maybe that’s part of the luck. Where is she?”

“In the back,” Sango said.

Kaede shifted her herb basked on her hip. “Well, let’s go see how she’s doing.” She stepped up on the wooden platform. The three women headed to the back.

Sango slid the door open to the sleeping room open, and the two miko slipped inside.

“How long has she been like this?” Kaede said, kneeling next to the unconscious woman. “Was she like this when Miroku pulled her out of the water?”

“She seemed alert enough,” Sango said, leaning her cheek against the door frame. “I heard her talk while he was grabbing her. It wasn’t until she got out of the water that she collapsed.”

“It’s true,” Kagome said, sitting next to the older woman. “Once she realized she wasn’t going to drown, it was like the shock of surviving was too much and she just crumpled.”

Kaede looked over the poor woman, still not very responsive. She pulled back the blue and white coverlet that covered the woman, touching the pulse at her throat, and gently tugging back the clean kosode she was now dressed in.

“You should look at her back,” Kagome said.  

Maeme limply allowed them to roll her over on her side. She moaned a little as the miko probed the worst of her scars, but otherwise, made no reactions.

“I didn’t...” Kaede said, looking at the unconscious woman’s injuries. “I knew he was not being gentle with her. I didn’t know it had gone this far.”

They returned her to her back, and the old miko began to check her for other injuries, gently pressing her abdomen, listening to her breathing, checking her pulse.  

“I don’t think she received any serious injury in the water,” Kaede said at last, her one eye solemnly gazing at her patient. She pulled the coverlet back over Maeme and then rubbed her own chin with a knuckle, thinking. “Chilled from the water, perhaps, but she had no injury to leave her in this state. We can be thankful for that much. She has enough injury to her body without adding any others.”

“Then why is she still unconscious?” Kagome asked, frowning.


“She is fleeing away,” Kaede said. “I’ve seen this before, when people have had too much grief or too great a trauma for their souls to deal with.” She rested her hand on the woman’s forehead. “Sometimes, a person can stay this way until something happens to convince them to live again. Or they awake in a rage, their grief turned into anger.”  

“What do we do?” Kagome asked. She reached down and brushed a stray lock of hair out of Maeme’s face.

“We need to keep her warm, and make sure she has enough to drink and eat. Broth and maybe rice gruel will be all we can give her at first. It’ll be important to watch out for fever. Laying down like this can be hard for the lungs.” Kaede rocked back on her heels, and rested her hands on her thighs. “She’ll either come out of it once she warms up and realizes nothing is going to happen to her, or she won’t. If she won’t, she’ll waste away. It’s rare, but it does happen.” She looked up at Sango. “Has anybody been to see her children?”

“Not that I know of,” Sango said.

“We’ll need to make arrangements then. I don’t think their obaasan is able to take them in. She’s rather frail.”

“So is their mother,” Kagome said.

Kaede nodded and stood up. “I’ll make her some medicine.”

The group filtered out of the sleep room, Sango last, and she shut the door behind her.


While Kaede prepared her medicine, Sukeo began a mad run to the monk’s house. As he ran to the gate of the headman’s compound, his world shrank into a blur, dominated by his fears and guilts and the pounding of his beating heart. Everything seemed to be moving in a fuzzy slow-motion haze. He nearly ran into Koichi on his way out. The old farm hand, surprised, and not sure of what was panicking the boy, brought a finger to his lip, and glanced at the lockup. Sukeo, nodding, gave the man a grateful look and hurried out to the street.

Here he didn’t almost bump into someone. He did. Denjiro, Sora’s husband was walking toward home, carrying a load of firewood. As they collided, pieces of wood and bundles of sticks scattered across the street.

“Sorry, sorry, Denjiro-sama,” Sukeo said. He looked at the wood on the ground like they were snakes about to attack him, and he began to back away.

“Hey!” the man yelled, obviously irritated. “Watch it! Just because your dad is in trouble...”

The boy took half a moment to bow. “Sorry, sorry,” he said, “my okaasan needs me.”  He turned and continued his run.

“Stupid brat,” Denjiro said, bending down to pick his load “He’s going to turn out to be just like his otousan.”

Sukeo’s ears burned at the insult, but his mind was focused on other things. As he ran, he just missed meeting Furume who had stopped by the blacksmith’s forge to tell Fumio the news. He could hear Fumio’s surprised voice as he dashed by.

“What?” The blacksmith said. “That poor woman.”

“Is he talking about Haha-ue?” Sukeo said. He could feel the shame of having everybody talk about his family rise up in him to join his panic and anger. It spurred him on. “Haha-ue, be all right,” he whispered, his throat too dry to do more. “I don’t care what they say, just be all right. I’ll do whatever it takes, let Chichi-ue do whatever it is he wants to do to you to me, just be safe.”

A few people who had already heard the news watched him pass, and some of them followed at a more leisurely pace, but he didn’t notice. As quickly as he could, he headed up the hill. There was a small group of people outside of the monk’s house sitting in the shade. Miroku stood as he spotted the boy, and called to him by name, but Sukeo didn’t stop, and instead, dashed inside.

“Ha-ha!” he called, then stopped, panting, catching his breath. “Where is she?”

Sango was sitting at the fire pit with Kaede. A pot of soup was cooking on a tripod. Sango had the lid off and was stirring it. Surprised for a moment, she held the cooking ladle in one hand, then a sad, but gentle look crossed her face.

“Sukeo-kun, you made it.” She put the ladle down. “I thought you might show up.”

“Where is she?” He almost screamed it. “Where’s my Okaasan?”

She got up. “She’s in the back room, son. Don’t scream, though. The noise might make her worse.”

“Let him see her, though,” Kaede said. “It might help.”

“Is she...” he said. “Was she hurt?”

“Not exactly,” Kaede said. “But she needs your strength.”

Putting his hand over his chest, as if that would help him catch his breath, he nodded, and followed Sango as they walked to the back. Sango slid the door open to reveal his mother laying on a straw bed. Not turning her head, Maeme clutched and unclutched her hands, and was staring into nothing. Kagome sat at the head of the bed, combing the woman’s tangled hair.

“Ha-ha?” Sukeo said, his voice almost too small to hear. He rushed to the side of the bed, and took the woman’s hand. She didn’t react.

“What’s wrong with her?” he asked Kagome, looking up at the miko. There was fear in his eyes. “Why is she acting like this?”

“I think she’s afraid,” Kagome said. “Maybe if you talk to her...”

Sukeo raised Maeme’s hand to his cheek. “Ha-ha, Ha-ha, what happened? Ha-ha, I looked for you everywhere. Who did this to you?” His eyes glistened, wild with worry, and a single tear trickled down his cheek, soon followed by others. “I was so worried.”

For a moment, Maeme still didn’t react. She started to pull her hand into a fist, like she was trying to hold onto something, but he didn’t let go. “Ha-ha...”

Then slowly, she took a  deep breath, and to Kagome’s surprise, Maeme turned her head enough to look into her distraught son’s face.

“Su...ke...o?” she said, dragging each syllable out, like it was very hard to speak. “Su...ke...o?”

“Ha-ha?” he said. “Don’t leave me, Ha-ha.”

She pulled her hand out of his, and, even though it was trembling, she reached up, and traced the tears that stained his cheek. “Tears? For me?”

He nodded. “Don’t leave me, Ha-ha.”

“You cried for me?” she said, as if it were the most amazing thing in the world. Suddenly, the glistening tears in Maeme’s eyes, the ones that had been threatening to fall all day, started trickling down. “You cried for me.”

She did more than weep; she began to sob, deep heart-rending spasms. Sukeo threw his arms around his mother, and together they let their tears fill up the room.