InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ A Tale of Ever After ❯ Chapter 301

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


Chapter 301



Suddenly InuYasha stopped, and put his arm in front of Kagome. “Can you feel that?” he asked.

They were not far from Seiji’s house.  Behind them were the last of the paddy fields, and to their left were the family’s dry fields.  InuYasha could smell the river from here, although it was too far for the humans in his company, but that was not what made him stop.  It was something that tingled on his youki, something that wanted to be dark and threatening, but was too far away to do anything but make him wary. The house they were heading for was just beyond a thin line of trees ahead.

“You feel something?” Miroku asked.

“I felt it yesterday, but maybe it’s stronger today than it was yesterday morning, or I’m just more aware of it. I couldn’t feel it this far away when we came to check up on the boy,” the hanyou said. He looked at Kagome. “Do you feel anything?”

“I’m...I’m not sure,” she said. “It’s not youki.”

“Interesting,” the monk said. “There are different types of beings that can be good or ill. Some have youki for their magic power, like InuYasha and Sesshoumaru. Some are like you and I, and the yamabushi and have varying degrees of human reiki. And then there are kami. It is very hard for a human to fully sense a kami’s power, unless the kami wants you to. And it can be draining to be around them.”

“I’ve noticed that,” Kagome said. “And some objects radiate their own power. Like the Shikon jewel did. Like some holy objects do. They don’t necessarily feel like youki, either.”

“Let’s hope Seiji didn’t leave a present behind for us,” Susumu said.

“Wouldn’t shock me if he did,” InuYasha said. “But I’m not going to be first in. The way it effects me I might get purified...or transform.”

“That’s why you aren’t the only one here,” Miroku said. He drew close and rested a hand on his friend’s shoulder blade. “That’s why it’s good that Susumu is with us.”

“I heard that,” the village guard said. “And why we have you, Houshi-sama. This should be right up your alley. You’re more a specialist about this sort of thing than I am.”

“Somehow,” Miroku said, “I knew you were going to say that.”


Fumio walked down the path from where the women surrounding Sango and Maeme were sitting, planning out how to made a new kosode for the troubled woman. Sukeo followed in his steps, his head bowed down, unsure. At fourteen he was all legs and arms, just having had a growth spurt. The very first darkening hairs of beard were appearing on his chin, although he might not have realized what they were yet. But Fumio could see he was a youth just on the edge of crossing that line between boyhood and early manhood.

The smith stopped, and watched as the boy caught up with him. He thought about his words carefully.

“I know that yesterday and even today have been truly hard for you, son,” Fumio said, resting a hand on Sukeo’s shoulder. “Being a good man is hard work.”

Sukeo, still not looking up, nodded.

“Would you still like to come to the forge and learn with me?” Fumio said.

“I...” the young man said. He took a deep breath. “How can I do that and still take care of my okaasan?” There was sadness and resignation in his voice. “There’s so much work to do on the farm. And now...I...I will be responsible.”

“I didn’t ask what you thought you could do,” the old smith said gently. “I asked what you wanted to do.”

Sukeo looked up, and sucked on his bottom lip. The smith was looking at him patiently, not angry or threatening, or showing anything but a true interest in his opinion. That in and of itself was almost frightening to the boy, who had only had to consider need and obligation to this point. It also made him curious why Fumio was asking this.

“Fumio-sama, I would most like to let you be my sensei,” he said, bowing. “But how can I?”

“The village elders want me to be your family’s guardian until you are old enough to really manage the lands you own on your own. If you really want to do this, I am sure we can figure out some way or the other.”

Sukeo’s eyes widened in surprise, but then he squinted with a puzzled look. “Guardian? What does that mean?”

“That means that the village elders want me to take over some of the work that your otousan should have been doing. Teaching you about how to see that the work gets done on your lands. Helping you make sure you take care of your okaasan and brother. Dealing with problems. Making sure you are a respected member of your ko. Toshiro asked me to do this, and the headman blessed it, and all the elders agreed. Is it all right by you?”

“But you’re not a member of our ko,” the boy said. “And he agreed?”

“He did. Because he knows I think well of you.”

Suddenly Sukeo, after working at being so strong and trying to choose the right thing, crumpled down to the ground and began to sob, deep hard sobs.



Hitoshi-no-kami in some ways was the opposite of Kazuo. He was tall and thin, with a perpetual worried look. He favored blue, a white kosode with a dark blue hitatare over it and the short hakama and white leg protectors of a prosperous farmer. This day, instead of an eboshi cap, he wore a conical rush hat, and he carried a three-pronged cultivating rake. Besides being worried looking, he looked weary, an unusual look for a kami.

He sat on the roof of the main house at Tsuneo’s compound. In the yard at the back of the house, Haname stood facing her husband. She was obviously angry at her husband. Amaya and Akina stood near the woman, not exactly sure what they should do. Amaya had a basket full of produce she had harvested from her garden a little earlier.  Akina was wringing a towel in her hand. Near by, on Tsuneo’s side, his farmworker Masu stood there, his face looking down at his sandals.  Masu’s wife Kahoru had a hand gently on his shoulder. Their daughter Furume was walking up to the crowd as she carried something in a basket on her head. Joben was nowhere to be seen. Hideo, Tadaki’s little brother, was glancing around for a place to hide.

Kazuo popped next to the worried-looking kami, and took a glance at the scene. “You can’t stand outside of time forever,” he said.

“Where’d you come from?” Hitoshi asked.  “I don’t know whether to be glad or angry seeing you here.”

“I don’t think anger is the right reaction,” Kazuo said, patting the other kami on his shoulder. “I didn’t arrange for that yamabushi to come to the village and start all of this.”

“But that hanyou...” Hitoshi said.

Kazuo shook his head. “He didn’t do anything either.  Haname started some of this all on her own, and you know it.”

“I wish...” Hitoshi sighed.  “That woman and her children.  Does she always have to go for the drama?”

“It’s her style,” Kazuo said.  “You’ve been watching this generation long enough to know that.”

“And an obstinate generation it is,” the kami said.  He tapped his cultivating rake on the roof once, and transported himself down to the ground, where he walked around Haname.  “Just look at her.  “Yesterday morning, she was at death’s door.  Today, she’s ready to bring down her daughter’s life.”  He pointed at Tsuneo.  “Now he did an honorable thing under great distress.  He’s actually a descendant I can be proud of.  He didn’t cause any of this chain of events, but between his son and his wife and his daughter, he’s been caught in a real pincher.  Still, he’s tried to do the right thing each time.  But what is it getting him?” the kami sighed.

Kazuo dropped off the roof as well.  “And it looked like Haname was making real progress yesterday, after the young miko healed her.”

“I thought so, too.”  Hitoshi walked over to the frozen figure of Haname and pushed his rush hat back to get a better look at her.  Her face was red with her anger and she was making dagger eyes at Tsuneo and Masu.  Her arms were held down by her sides and her fists were clenched in fists.  Even for kami, it was a frightening image. “I saw how she actually looked through her fears and saw that hanyou of yours for the first time.  But soon as she heard that her daughter was down at the river house…”

“Who’s she angry with?” Kazuo asked, rubbing his eboshi hat across her head.  “I’d rather not dip into the mind of someone that angry if I don’t have to.”

“Chiya, mostly, I think,” Hitoshi said, readjusting his own rush hat. “I even glimpsed a sympathetic feeling for Michio, which rather shocked me, knowing how she feels about her son-in-law.”

Kazuo nodded. “That is a rare thing.”

Hitoshi sighed.  “Might not last if Michio gets too pigheaded, though.  Haname has strong feelings of right and wrong when it doesn’t come to judging her own actions.”  He scratched the back of his neck.

“If you let time proceed, maybe we can get something done,” Kazuo said.  “And then you can join me and Yoshio to try to get these stubborn people back together.”

“You have a plan in mind?” the kami asked.

“Something. Maybe it’ll slow down the explosion at the river house, at least a little while,” Kazuo said.

“It’s got to be better than what I can think of, if it can do that,” Hitoshi said.  He tapped his cultivating rake on the ground.

Suddenly, time began to flow again in the courtyard.

Haname took two steps forward, clenching and unclenching her fists.  “I can’t believe...I just can’t believe...”

Amaya moved in beside her.  “Please Okaa-san,” she said in a soft, soothing voice.  “Otousan did what he thought would help you.  You were so sick...”

Tsuneo held his place, crossed his arms in front of him, but made no outward sign of anger at his wife.  “Amaya-chan is correct, wife. Until Kagome-sama healed you yesterday, we were more worried about you than about what our daughter was doing to our family name. You needed to rest.  Between that crazed man and the craziness of our child….we didn’t know if you could take the strain.  So I did the best I could to protect you and her.”

“But to put her so close to that...that...”

“They are not under the same roof.  Don’t you remember the second son’s house? Remember that day before my otousan passed, and you needed to get away?  You didn’t complain when I took you there then...”

Haname closed her eyes, and let out a long breath.

“And Hiroki and Hana are there to take care of her own needs,” he continued.  “There’s no way I would make Kisoi and  his wife have to deal with that crazy man and our daughter.  Do you really want me to bring Chiya here?  Are you ready for her whining and complaining and hovering over you?  You know that’s what she’d do.  That’s what she did last time.”

“It...it...” Haname covered her face, unable to continue. “But I need to go talk with her.  She needs to do the right thing.”

“You need to stay here,” Tsuneo said. “Chiya’s just as likely to try to make another grand gesture if you start in. This time, she might succeed.” He took one of his wife’s hands. “What good would that do any of us?”

She looked up at her husband’s eyes. It did nothing to calm the anger she felt or the need she had to do something.  

“Let me work on Michio,” Tsuneo said.

“Bah,” Haname said. “When has he ever done the right thing?”

There was a cough from behind the couple.

“I’m sorry,” came Chime’s sweet and soothing voice. “Did we come at a bad time?”

Tsuneo and Haname turned around to see Daitaro, still bent under his large packbasket and Chime standing there, expectantly.

“Oh, Chime-obaasan, how nice to see you here!” Akina said. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

“Now that was good timing,” Hitoshi looking at the kami next to him. “How did you manage that?”

“Practice,” Kazuo said.

Suddenly, there was a sudden bright burst of kami energy behind them.  Turning, they saw the land kami, Shimame, looking...well, angry and perhaps just a touch frantic.  “You two, come with me.  We may have an unexpected situation.”