InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ All's Fare in Love and Sex ❯ Chapter Two ( Chapter 2 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Sunrise brightened the sky to a soft gray, which was Rin’s cue to leave. Kaede was probably already awake and she would need Rin’s help with her morning rituals. Rin buried the small fire then got to her feet, brushing the dirt from her kimono.

“Will you finish telling me later?” she asked.

InuYasha shrugged noncommittally. “We’ll see.”

“Will you be here tonight?”

InuYasha was tempted to tell her he would not, that he had urgent business that would take away from the village for several days. A few nights peace and quiet sounded very nice indeed.

“I’ll be here,” he replied grumpily, which made her grin.

“Do you want me to bring you anything?” She always brought him something. Sweet dumplings, roasted fish, any food that she thought he might enjoy.

“No,” InuYasha said, though he knew she would bring him something anyway.

“I’ll see you later then,” she told him with a wave.

InuYasha watched as she disappeared into the trees, then leapt back into the branches of Goshinboku to sleep.

Five hundred years in the future, Dr. Kyoko Watanabe stared into the dense branches of the God Tree as the oily, polluted air of Tokyo caressed her skin like the fingers of an unwanted lover. The sun cast an intricate pattern of shadows over her face and painted her black hair with patches of gold. Her gaze trailed down the trunk to the single bare spot in the tree’s rough bark and finally settled on the deep notch in the center. Unconsciously, she took a step closer.

“Ah,” the shrine’s elderly caretaker–who was perhaps the most worthless priest she had ever met–said when he realized what she was looking at. “Five centuries ago, a wicked hanyou was sealed to that very spot by a wise and powerful priestess.”

One corner of her mouth turned up in very mild amusement. “Wicked hanyou, you say?”

“Yes, though they were in love, the priestess bound him in a magical sleep for fifty years for attempting to steal the sacred Shikon no Tama, replicas of which are available for purchase in the shrine’s gift shop. . .”

Kyoko tuned him out, turning her attention back to the single scar in the God Tree’s perfection. InuYasha, she thought, her lips pursing in a slight scowl, did it hurt?

Kyoko heard footsteps approaching and knew without turning around that her brother had finally decided to show up, over an hour late. She listened to the whisper soft scrape of his boot heels against the cobblestone as he got closer and the familiar, pleasant scent of his leather jacket wrapped around her. In spite of her annoyance, Kyoko found herself smiling a little.

“Hey, Doc,” Kadonomaru said. She had almost forgotten what his voice sounded like uncorrupted by the static hiss of a long distance telephone call. “Long time, no see.”

Kyoko didn’t turn in his direction. “Kadonomaru,” she replied in a steady tone, as though she had just seen her twin brother a few hours–instead of more than thirty years–before. The afternoon breeze toyed with her waist-length hair and made her trench coat flutter around her calves. She could feel his eyes upon her and sensed his growing irritation when she said nothing more.

“Welcome back,” he mumbled at last, stepping up to stand beside her. She watched him out of the corner of her eye and it filled her with a warm sense of wellbeing that nothing had changed. His face was still fixed with that semi-permanent arrogant smirk, his dark hair still hung loose and was almost as long as hers. He was still tall, still brawny, and his eyes were still so dark that it was impossible to distinguish the iris from the pupil. Still, she resisted the impulse to turn and throw her arms around his neck.

It occurred to the twins that the old man was still talking.

“–are not to your liking, then there are other souvenirs you could take home for a reasonable price. Now, if you will direct your attention to–”

“Higurashi-san,” Kyoko interrupted. “My brother and I have a lot of catching up to do. Perhaps we could continue the tour on our own?”

Grandpa Higurashi drew his shoulders back, miffed by the beautiful doctor’s abrupt dismissal.

“I would, however, like to make a contribution to the shrine,” she went on, pulling out her checkbook. She began to write and asked, “Do I make this out directly to you, or . . ?”

“To the shrine,” he answered, frowning.

Kyoko tore off the piece of paper with practiced ease and handed it to the old man with a very slight smile. Grandpa Higurashi looked at the amount and his weathered eyes widened.

“Enjoy your visit,” he said, his good mood back with reinforcements. “If you have any questions, you can find me in the gift shop.”

The twins waited until he was out of sight before turning toward one another. They took in the first sight of their sibling in over three decades, and their noses wrinkled slightly as they reacquainted themselves with the other’s scent. Kadonomaru moved first, wrapping his arms around his sister’s shoulders to pull her close. He felt her stiffen a little at being touched but she returned the embrace, and he supposed for that he should be grateful.

“How have you been?” he whispered into her hair.

“I can’t complain,” she replied. “The new practice is doing well. What about you? Did you ever find a job?”

Kadonomaru grinned. “You know me,” he said. “Jack of all trades.”

“So, that’s a ‘no’?”

At that, Kadonomaru laughed. “You never change. You sound so much like–” He stopped when he saw the good humor drain out of his sister’s eyes. “Err, anyway. You look great.”

“You, too,” she replied, turning back to the tree. “I actually missed you.”

His sister’s glib remark stung Kadonomaru in a way he hadn’t expected. Barely a word in thirty years, and she was surprised to actually miss him?

Fuck the hurt feelings. He knew exactly which button to push.

“Will you try to contact Father while you’re here?” Kadonomaru asked. “Did he know you were coming?”

Kyoko’s brow twitched and he knew he had struck a nerve. “Let’s get this over with,” she said, already walking toward the well-house.

To be perfectly honest, InuYasha didn’t mind Rin’s nightly visits. It wasn’t like she was interrupting anything important, and it was kind of nice to have someone to talk to again. In a secret corner of his mind where he refused to look, the thought lingered that he could understand Kohaku’s fascination with her. That being said, InuYasha wished that Kohaku was the one Rin leaned on for support, but what could he do?

Helping Rin wade through her fuzzy, disjointed memories didn’t hurt InuYasha in any way. While he had a strong suspicion as to what had prompted Sesshomaru to wipe her memory and banish her, InuYasha believed she had the right to recall it. Sure, he was concerned about the damage she could potentially cause herself, but the choice was ultimately hers.

Unfortunately, trying to scratch up her lost memories sometimes made him recall some unpleasant things of his own. How did he let Rin talk him into telling her about how they’d defeated Naraku? Why was he such a spineless wuss when it came to women, especially tender, vulnerable women like Rin? And Kagome.

He shifted his position on the limb, trying to get comfortable so he could grab a few hours of sleep before he patrolled the forest for any malevolent youkai. He closed his eyes and tried to block out the annoying songbirds and early morning insect sounds, but it was useless. Rest would prove impossible for him that day.

The memory of his first trek back to the village after his release from the well haunted his thoughts, though he made a mighty effort to subdue it. In the end, InuYasha gave up and let the memory wash over him. InuYasha remembered how Miroku had walked beside him with his head down and his eyes troubled, silent but for the ringing chimes of his staff. InuYasha stayed more than an arms length away from his friend, lest the rage that had infected him return and he lash out.

Grief–deep, never-ending sorrow from which there is no hope for salvation–was unfamiliar and frightening territory to InuYasha. It was better to stay angry. Anger he understood. He could live with burning resentment. Resentment toward Kikyou for devising the plan, toward Miroku for the fatal attack that was aimed at him but took Kagome instead, toward Kagome for being so stupidly selfless, toward himself for not being there when she needed him. But most of all, toward whatever cruel gods ruled the heavens for taking someone so precious and beautiful and leaving someone like him behind.

No. He refused to give in to the anger again. Kagome deserved better than that. And he had made a little girl a promise.

Without a word, Miroku walked with InuYasha through the village. The peasants turned to regard him as he passed; some with pity for the loss of the woman from whom he had been more or less inseparable for almost two years, some with fear for what he had said and done while he was trapped in the well, some with mild disgust at his haggard appearance. InuYasha kept his head down lest he start screaming at the random passerby to stop gawking at him.

The two men climbed the tall flight of stone steps toward the shrine, their footsteps growing leaden. Both were hesitant to visit the gravesite, knowing that a small patch of earth and some hastily erected monument would be all they would ever have to remember Kagome. Sunshine beat down on them, bathing the tranquil shrine with radiant beauty, and InuYasha felt his blood curdle at the insolence of nature.

What right did the sun have to shine? It should be raining. The heavens should weep forever.

Kikyou stood before a newly erected shrine, but turned when she sensed InuYasha’s presence. Her face was just as kind and serene as he remembered it being fifty years earlier, and the restored Shikon no Tama glittered around her throat. She folded her hands before her and moved to the side as InuYasha came to stand before the memorial.

His scowled as his chest tightened painfully. “Wasn’t this your gravesite?” he snapped.

Kikyou closed her eyes and bowed her head. “It was.”

InuYasha bristled. “Can’t we give Kagome her own monument?”

“Of course we can,” Miroku interjected. This was the first time he had spoken to InuYasha since his emergence from the well, and it seemed to hearten the young monk that InuYasha didn’t growl or otherwise show any sign of outrage at the sound of his voice. “We’ll see about that right away. Do you have anything particular in mind?”

InuYasha didn’t, but he didn’t say as much. For lack of anything better to do, he dropped the bouquet of flowers Rin had given him on the ground next to the grave marker–which was already covered in similar bouquets–and lowered himself to kneel beside it.

Kyoko and Kadonomaru stood over the well, staring down into the murky hole that was supposedly the final resting place of countless youkai remains. Pale sunshine bled through the rice paper windows of the sliding door but did little to displace the gloom. Still, with their superior vision, the thick shadows contained no mysteries.

“Are you sure this is the place?” Kadonomaru asked, making a face at the scent of musty decay that drifted up from the well. The air was thick, stale, and it tickled in the back of his throat.

“I’m sure,” Kyoko said as she somehow managed to balance perfectly on the wooden rim of the well in open-toed high heels. Her face was impassive, her hands in the pockets of her long overcoat.

“How can you be so sure?” he probed.

“A very reliable source told me that the treasure we seek was last seen here. Besides, this place is positively alive with latent magic. Can’t you feel it?”

“No. So, how did you come across this information?” Kadonomaru challenged, if only to hear the sound of her voice. “Everyone involved in the quest for the Shikon no Tama either died almost five hundred years ago or has been forbidden to speak about it.”

Kyoko stared into the well. “Everyone has their price.”

“That doesn’t answer my question. Who was your source?”

Kyoko grinned, a rare expression for her. “Myoga-ojiisan.”

Kadonomaru’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “That old bastard?” he asked with a laugh. “He’s still alive?”

“As long as there are youkai to feed on, Myoga-ojiisan will outlive us all,” she said.

“So, how did he find you?” Kadonomaru asked, a bit peeved. His sister lived on the other side of the world, having vowed to never set foot on the land of her birth unless it was for their father’s funeral. She moved her medical practice to a new city and changed her identity at least once a decade to avoid rousing the suspicions. Kyoko was remarkably hard to track down without the aide of a talented youkai detective. “Did Father send him?” he asked.

Kyoko’s smile evaporated. “I don’t know. Myoga-ojiisan didn’t mention it. I’m sure he probably did, but it doesn’t matter. I bought his information as well as his silence. Worry not, Brother. Our sire will not know what we’re up to.”

Kadonomaru gave her a wry look. “How much did his information cost you?”

“About a pint,” she replied, and her brother chuckled. “Well, are you going to get down there?”

Kadonomaru hesitated. “I’m not sure about this. Even if it is down there, what makes you think I’ll find it?”

“You never know unless you try. Five hundred years and this is the closest we’ve ever come to it. Are you saying you won’t at least look?”

“Why don’t you go look?”

She nodded toward her shoes and met her brother’s gaze haughtily. Kadonomaru didn’t know why he bothered to argue. He had never been able to deny any woman anything, and Kyoko had taken advantage of this flaw in his character their entire lives. He glared at her before dropping into the depths of the well.


“InuYasha,” Kikyou said beside him, drawing his attention. She held a soft white kimono out to him, and he accepted it after a moment of reluctance. He put it on quickly then straightened his red haori. The least he could do for Kagome was look halfway respectable at her gravesite.

A long silence passed. The sun sank lower in the western sky as the villagers went about their day to day life. InuYasha noticed with a small trace of animosity that none of the locals came to pay Kagome their respects, but he guessed that they wouldn’t come anywhere near the place while he was there. Whether that was out of fear or respect for his grief, InuYasha didn’t know, nor did he particularly care.

He heard the soft rustle of cloth as Kikyou crouched down beside him, but he didn’t even glance in her direction. “InuYasha,” she said, her voice so gentle that only he could hear. “We can only begin to imagine the pain you must be feeling right now. And while your heart is undoubtedly breaking, know that you are not alone. Your friends are here, and we share your grief.”

No, he thought. None of you know how this feels. InuYasha had thought he understood loss before, but he was wrong. This went beyond pain into a much darker place where a word to describe the agony had yet to be invented. This was being rendered in two with no hope of ever being whole again.

“Her body is gone,” Kikyou went on. She was in full priestess-mode, InuYasha realized bitterly. “But her spirit remains. It remains in the hearts and minds of those she has left behind. We can’t see her, but we can still feel her if we only open ourselves to her presence. She is watching over all of us, as she did in life.”

InuYasha closed his eyes. I’ll watch over you. Even if you can’t see me, I’ll be there. Those were essentially the last words Kagome said to him. But he couldn’t feel her. Only her sharp absence. Perhaps the wall of grief he had built around himself made it impossible for her to reach him. Or maybe she had made a promise that was impossible to keep.

“This place will serve as a memorial to her,” Kikyou said, laying a hand on the small shrine. “A place for us to find refuge in her memory.” Kikyou’s soothing words were acting as a balm on InuYasha’s broken mind, even though he neither asked for nor desired her consolation. “Here, any words you speak to her will reach her ears. Therefore, if you want to say goodbye or tell her what’s in your heart, this is the place to do so.”

There was a long, uncomfortable silence in which Miroku and Kikyou stared at InuYasha with equal parts of pity and expectation. The hanyou bowed his head, his cheeks growing warm, his claws digging into the flesh of his thighs.

“I’ll go first,” Kikyou said. She frowned as she searched for the right words, then she took a deep breath. “I would thank her. Thank her for everything she’s ever done to help me. I would praise her selflessness, and how she always cared for the happiness of others above her own. I would marvel over her truly unprejudiced heart, praise the wisdom beneath her innocence. I would commend her for the way she swore she would never stand in the way of InuYasha’s happiness. Most of all,” Kikyou bowed her head sadly, “I would apologize for not telling her all of this when I had the chance.” With that, Kikyou clapped her hands together and said a silent prayer for Kagome’s soul.

InuYasha scoffed softly. That was true; if Kikyou was the one InuYasha wanted then Kagome would have supported his decision. Or, so she claimed. His relationship with Kikyou sure had pissed Kagome off to no end. Instantly, InuYasha regretted having such cynical thoughts.

Miroku cleared his throat when it became clear that InuYasha had no intention of speaking. “I wouldn’t know where to begin,” the monk said. “I wouldn’t know how to begin to thank her for everything she’s ever done for me. For all of us. I can’t express how I feel about the,” he cast an uneasy glance at InuYasha, “sacrifices she’s made. More than anything, I want to thank her for giving me hope. Not only did she give me a place to belong and hope for a future, she assured that I would live not only to see my children, but hopefully my grandchildren as well. You all did.” He turned to face InuYasha.

Swallowing thickly, InuYasha just nodded. It occurred to him then that they were waiting for him to speak. He stared at Kagome’s tombstone, at his own reflection in it. Where could he start? What could he possibly say to her? How could he ever put into words what she had meant to him?

Impossible.

He was sorry. Sorry for every time they’d argued. Sorry for every hurtful name he’d ever called her. Sorry for every time he’d made her cry. Sorry for every single time he’d hurt her feelings and sent her running home just to get away from him. Sorry for the pain he and Kikyou must have caused her. Sorry for being such a callous, cynical, thick-headed, insensitive . . . baka. Most of all, he was sorry for having the gall to love them both at the same time. And for being too afraid to tell her how he felt while he could.

Kagome had never cared. Even at the beginning it hadn’t bothered her that he was the son of a youkai and a mortal, and she was perhaps the only person in the whole wretched world who could make that claim. His own brother was disgusted with his very existence and considered him a disgrace. But Kagome didn’t care. How many times had she told him that she liked him just the way he was, that he was strong enough as a hanyou, that he had nothing to prove to anyone? She stood up for him whenever she heard anyone call him a mongrel or a filthy half-breed and had always spoken to him as though he was a regular person. She never feared him, never left his side, never took away her support. He was never anyone or anything but InuYasha to her. No one had ever shown him the acceptance–even at his worst–that she had.

Most of all, he was sorry that he wasn’t there when she needed him. He was sorry he’d let his need for revenge override his duty to protect her. It should have been me instead of you, he thought. You would have had the strength to go on.

She would have stayed. Why did he ever doubt that?

“I would have chosen you,” he said at last and left it at that. He lacked the ability to express his other thoughts, and they were for Kagome, anyway. Wherever she was, he hoped she knew what was in his heart.

“Kadonomaru, go dig in the corner a little more,” Kyoko called from above. “No, the other corner. What are you afraid of, getting your hands dirty? Dig!”

“Kyoko,” he said, glaring up at her. “Do you know what’s more annoying than someone standing over your shoulder, nitpicking your every move, telling you how to do something trivial, all the while not lifting one finger to help?”

“No. What?”

“Nothing.”

His sister sneered but made no move to come into the well with him. Kadonomaru bent and raked the ground with his claws. The space wasn’t that big, but he felt as though he had been down there forever and had already covered the entire surface at least once.

“Do you see any marks on the walls, Brother?”

Kadonomaru sighed. “Like what?” he asked irritably.

“Ancient sealing sutras? Arcane writing? Something that indicates what sort of magic governs this well or how to activate it?”

“Like I’d fucking know that if I saw it,” Kadonomaru snapped. “If you want to know that, then come down here and look yourself.”

“I will if you see something. Do you?”

Kadonomaru considered lying. “No,” he replied, and he heard her grumble a curse. He couldn’t blame her, seeing as how he shared her frustration. “Father will kill us if he finds out we’re here,” he said, his impatience simmered in his voice. He was–by his very nature–not one who was easily creeped out, but this place definitely did the trick. He felt unearthly eyes upon him, and the sensation of being watched made him uneasy.

“Our sire won’t know if you manage to keep your mouth shut,” Kyoko pointed out.

The fact that she had stopped referring to their father as anything other that ‘our sire’–or worse, calling him by his first name–had long since stopped bothering her brother. “Are you sure it’s even here? We’ve been in here forever.”

“Actually, it’s been closer to ten minutes, but I’m positive. Myoga-ojiisan was adamant that . . .” Kyoko stopped, then she exhaled heavily. “I suppose you’re right, Kadonomaru. We can’t stay here or that old priest will find us trespassing. We’ll come back later, after nightfall.”

Kadonomaru closed his eyes and growled. The only thing worse than being in that disconcerting well was the prospect of being in it at night. But, Kyoko was right. If they stayed they would get caught. With one spring, Kadonomaru landed outside the well next to his disgruntled sister.

“Come,” she said as she started up the steps toward the doors. “I’ll take you out to eat and we can catch up.”

You’re not even going to call him to let him know you’re in town, are you? “You know, Kyoko, he’s going to find out you’re here,” Kadonomaru said.

“Perhaps,” she said with a shrug. “But he is in London. Even if he flies out right now, I plan to be long gone before his plane lands.”

You fear him, you hate him, you blame him. Still. Kadonomaru shook his head and looked away.

Kyoko, oblivious or indifferent to her brother’s dark thoughts, took a few tentative sniffs to make sure the coast was clear. Apparently satisfied, she laid an immaculately manicured hand on the sliding door.

All of a sudden, a violet glow erupted from the well and Kadonomaru and Kyoko spun around in surprise. The dazzling radiance shone for a few moments before fading away, and with its passing a new, unfamiliar scent filled the air that made the siblings look at one another in shock before darting to the edge of the well.

A young woman lay in the bottom. Her eyes were closed, her raven black hair framing her peaceful face. The coppery scent of dried blood stung their nostrils and their eyes fell on the gruesome makeshift bandage tied to her stomach. The girl’s legs were bent beneath her awkwardly, one arm draped across her unmoving chest. She wore a short-sleeved black sweater and a preposterously short red skirt.

“What the fuck?” Kadonomaru exclaimed, gaping at the body that had not been there a minute before.

“Indeed,” his sister concurred. Kyoko kicked off her shoes and hopped over the edge of the well, her long hair and coat billowing around her like the wings of a guardian angel.

Kadonomaru leaned over to watch as Kyoko bent over the girl. He watched her for a moment, then called, “Kyoko?”

There was a long, pregnant pause. “She’s dead, Brother.”

Kadonomaru frowned. “Are you sure?”

“Very sure. Let’s get out of here.”

Kadonomaru did a double take. “Wait, what? Ain’t you a fucking doctor? You’re just going to–?”

“She’s dead, Brother,” Kyoko’s cold proclamation echoed up from the bowels of the well. “She’s been dead for hours. Unless you think you can convince Sesshomaru to hand Tenseiga over to a mongrel such as yourself, then my professional opinion is that there’s nothing that can be done for her. Now, unless you want to explain to human authorities what we were doing down here in the first place, then I say we leave her for the caretakers to find.”

Something about Kyoko’s reasoning, logical as it was, rang wrong for Kadonomaru. He dropped into the well beside his sister and crouched over the girl’s body. She was young, perhaps sixteen or seventeen years old, and was lovely for a mortal. Who is she? he wondered. Where did she come from?

“Poor thing, there’s barely a drop of blood left in her,” Kyoko remarked, showing compassion at last. She brushed a lock of hair away from the girl’s pale lips and shook her head. “I wonder who she is. She’s so young.”

The pair looked at one another. Kyoko was right. They couldn’t stay there. She stood and Kadonomaru followed her lead. “Let’s go, Brother,” she said, and the pair jumped out of the well.

“InuYasha, where will you go?” Miroku asked, following his friend to the steps that led into the village proper.

InuYasha took a deep breath, let it out, and stared into the forest. “I’ll go back to the well, try it again.”

Miroku winced. “And if it doesn’t work?” he dared to ask.

InuYasha’s expression darkened, but he didn’t take Miroku’s throat out. The monk supposed he could be grateful for that.

Without another word, InuYasha started down the shrine steps. By the time he reached the forest, he was running. He didn’t stop at the well as he’d told Miroku he would. Instead, he kept running. He ran and ran until his lungs burned and his heart threatened to burst. He ran until he was too exhausted to think.

InuYasha collapsed in unfamiliar territory, falling at the base of a tree instead of taking refuge in its branches. Sweat made his hair stick to his brow as InuYasha stripped off his haori and lay back on the uneven ground. Closing his eyed, he covered his face in the fire rat fur which still carried a trace of her scent after having been carried by him so many times. Pretending that she was still alive and lying next to him, InuYasha finally managed to fall asleep.

Kyoko hesitated, her hand on the door again. “Did you hear that?” she asked with a frown.

Kadonomaru paused then turned his head in confusion. Yes, he could hear it, too. But . . . it was impossible. He had smelled the girl himself. She was drained of blood, her stomach punctured and her body stone cold. There was no way . . .

She was breathing.