InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Chronicles ❯ Chronicles ( Chapter 100 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
Sango frowned in complete consternation as Miroku strode away with Masuyo resting against his shoulder. The seven month-old baby gurgled and grinned at his mother, who smiled despite her current irritation with the child's father.
“I'm sure he was teasing,” Kagome offered as she tried to hide her smile, having witnessed the conversation that had begun with, “Masuyo really likes Sesshoumaru's girls . . . .”
Sango sighed and shook her head. “If he passes on that `lecher' gene of his, I'll break Hiraikotsu out of retirement, I swear it,” she remarked as Kirara raised her head. Curled up between Sango's feet, the fire cat was growing fat and a little lazy since she didn't travel nearly as much as she used to.
Kagome giggled as InuYasha was tackled by both Inuakamori and Shippou. Keiko and Kumiko saw the fun and jumped into the fray as well. “Talk about a dog pile,” she remarked as Miroku laughed and Sesshoumaru shook his head.
Sango grinned. “I never thought I'd see InuYasha so . . . happy.”
Kagome laughed. “I know . . . scary isn't it?”
Mrs. Higurashi came around, passing out party hats in celebration of Inuakamori's first birthday. Kagome giggled again. “Mama, if you can convince InuYasha or Sesshoumaru to put one of these on, I'll be amazed.”
Mrs. Higurashi wrinkled her nose. “So would I,” she admitted, “but I'll try. It's not every day one of my grandsons turns a year old.”
Sango raised her eyebrows. “You're right . . . they'll never do it.”
Leikizu stepped out of the mansion with a huge birthday cake. Slipping it onto the festively draped table, she sighed and stepped back as Nibori followed her outside with a huge box about the size of a small chest freezer wrapped in balloon printed birthday paper. “I'll apologize in advance for that monstrosity,” Leikizu remarked dryly as Nibori set the box beside the table. “That was Sesshoumaru's doing, even though I told him you'd not approve.”
Kagome frowned and stared at the huge box a little reluctantly. “What's in it?”
Leikizu winced. “You'll see.”
Sango leaned toward Kagome as Leikizu sauntered away. “Maybe you ought to have InuYasha sniff it before Inuakamori opens it?”
Kagome made a face. “I don't know . . . maybe . . . .”
Inuakamori dragged himself out of the pile and toddled over to hug Kagome's legs. “Mama!”
With a giggle, Kagome lifted her son, planting a loud kiss on his cheek as the boy giggled. Clapping his tiny hands together as he bounced up and down, he hollered, “Pwesents!”
Sango reached over to put the hat on Inuakamori's head. The cone shaped, festively colored party hat was nestled between the tiny triangles that were his ears, and Kagome giggled as the boy scrunched up his face and tried to jerk on the elastic cord under his chin.
Glancing up, Kagome grinned and lifted Inuakamori's hand to wave as Souta aimed the digital camera to snap the photo. “Pichure!” Inuakamori squealed as he struggled to get down. Kagome relented and watched as her son took off after Uncle Souta and the camera.
“Nothing shy about him, is there?” Nibori commented as he stepped up between Kagome and Sango. “Uncle threatened Souta earlier for taking his picture.”
Kagome giggled, the memory of InuYasha holding out his hand to block the camera from taking his digital image fresh in her mind. Leikizu had called him the Sean Penn of the youkai world. InuYasha had looked duly befuddled since he didn't know who Sean Penn was. Kagome had laughed since the stories of the actor who hated having his picture taken was lore she'd heard of.
“Not really,” Kagome admitted with a sigh. “How are you holding up, big brother?”
Nibori winced and pulled up his sleeve to reveal a very impressive set of fang punctures accentuated with some mottled bluish-black bruising on his forearm. “Courtesy of Keiko, of course. She didn't want to put her hair ribbons in this morning, and instead of biting Mother, since Mother tweaks her for it, she thought to run and bite me, instead. Father swears it's Uncle's influence.”
Kagome rolled her eyes. “Sesshoumaru's going to regret not disciplining those two,” she predicted.
“Keh! Like you're any better, wench,” InuYasha pointed out as he ambled over, dragging Inuakamori, who had wrapped himself around InuYasha's leg. “You never discipline Aka, and you know it, then you growl at me for doing it.”
She grinned as a slight flush crept up her cheeks. “He looks too much like you, so blame yourself.”
InuYasha blushed, too, as he smiled just a little. “Keh.”
“Ah, a re-emergence of the lovely shade known to one and all as `Monk-in-Pain'-red!” Miroku commented as he strode over with Masuyo in his arms.
“Can it, monk,” InuYasha growled as he stepped behind Kagome to wrap his arms around her and rest his chin on her shoulder. “The pup wants his presents,” he told her.
“I know,” Kagome agreed. “He can wait till after cake, and you might want to sniff that monstrosity there. Leikizu said that she isn't responsible for what's inside . . . .”
InuYasha made a face. “Probably Sesshoumaru's idea of revenge for what you got the girls for their birthday,” he pointed out.
Kagome snorted. “What I got them? You picked those out! I wanted to buy them dolls!”
“Keh! Dolls are for girls.”
Kagome rolled her eyes. “They are girls, baka.”
InuYasha didn't argue but he did smile.
“Remind me not to invite either of you to Masuyo's first birthday party,” Miroku remarked, grimacing at the reminder of InuYasha's choice of birthday presents.
Sango groaned. “Really, InuYasha . . . sometimes I think you're just trying to get Sesshoumaru to fight with you.”
Kagome sighed. True enough, she told InuYasha that it wasn't a good idea to buy the girls paintball guns. Sesshoumaru had very nearly come after InuYasha with Tokijin for it, too. Still, InuYasha claimed that even if they were still a little too young for them that they would grow into them. Given the girls' propensity toward violence already, Kagome couldn't really think that it was a good idea, in any case . . . .
She shook her head. Bad enough that InuYasha and Shippou constantly chased each other through the forest with the offensive `toys'. She'd made it clear that the first time that either she or Inuakamori were hit by an errant paint ball that they would both be in a world of hurt . . . .
“Pwesents!” Inuakamori insisted, jerking on Nibori's pants. “Pwestents for Aka!”
Sesshoumaru leaned down and lifted the boy. “Come, Akamori. Let's see what Uncle bought for you . . . .”
Kagome gritted her teeth as Sesshoumaru set Inuakamori down near the huge box. “I don't like this,” InuYasha remarked in her ear. “That bastard looks a little too happy about this present . . . .”
“Leikizu did say that she warned him not to get it . . . whatever `it' is . . . .”
“Oh, kami,” Sango gasped as the birthday boy tore away the paper with a happy shriek. InuYasha flatted his ears against his head, wincing in anticipation of being subjected to that monstrosity as Kagome could only groan and shake her head.
“Oh . . . not good,” Miroku said with a consoling grimace. “Wow.”
Sesshoumaru chuckled as Nibori helped Inuakamori dig into the box. “Something wrong, baka?”
“You're such a bastard,” InuYasha growled.
“I'm not putting that in my house,” Kagome muttered as Nibori handed over the `weapons' of choice to the giddy one year-old.
Leikizu shook her head. “I told him . . . .”
Mrs. Higurashi gasped. “Oh, my . . . Grandma is tolerant, too . . . but that . . . ? Not in the shrine, either.”
“The arts should be encouraged,” Sesshoumaru remarked. “I thought to introduce the boy to some culture that he's not likely to have with a father like you, baka.”
“A drum set?” InuYasha snarled as Inuakamori discovered the first of the drums. “I really hate you, you bastard.”
Kagome flinched as the boy started pounding mercilessly on the snare drum. She could barely tolerate it. She was amazed that Inuakamori could, and that InuYasha hadn't come unglued . . . yet.
The girls, drawn by the excessively loud noise, toddled over and started thumping away on another of the drums in the set as Masuyo struggled to get down so that he, too, could join the fray. Even Sesshoumaru had to wince at that.
“Sango,” Miroku said as he pressed Masuyo's head against his chest and covered the squirming baby's exposed ear with his free hand, “we are not inviting either of those two—” he said, jerking his head toward InuYasha and Sesshoumaru, “—to his first birthday.”
Sango plugged her ears and nodded. “Agreed.”
Kagome sat under the tree in the late afternoon sunshine holding a drowsing birthday boy on her lap. It had been a long day for him, and as she idly ruffled his soft silvery hair, humming InuYasha's lullaby to him, she smiled. `It's been a long road, hasn't it?' she mused. `Was this how InuYasha's mother felt when she held him in her arms? This complete feeling of peace and love?' Tinged with sadness over the death of InuYasha's father, it hadn't been an easy thing for her, had it? And yet, too, was the understanding that knowing love so pure, so beautiful was worth it, even if it didn't last forever.
She smiled almost sadly, watching as Shippou, Souta, Nibori, Miroku, InuYasha, and even Sesshoumaru darted in and out of the surrounding trees with their paint ball guns aimed and ready to fire. `Something about men and warfare,' she decided as she wrinkled her nose. She supposed some things never changed, no matter what era they lived in.
The twins were laying down for their afternoon nap while Mrs. Higurashi helped Leikizu straighten up. Grandpa fussed over the guys' paintballs being `sacrilegious'. Sango was inside nursing Masuyo, and Kagome was enjoying the peace and quiet—and plotting some way to get rid of that drum kit . . . .
“Miroku's got an unfair advantage,” InuYasha complained as he squatted down beside her. Kagome grinned at the irritated look on her mate's adorable face. “You tired? We can go home, if you are.”
She shook her head and rolled her eyes at the rainbow of colors dotting his shirt and pants. “I'm fine,” she assured him, “and I thought you were enjoying yourself.”
“I can think of a few other things I'd enjoy . . . .”
She grinned. “I was just thinking about your mother.”
His smile dimmed but didn't disappear. “What about her?”
“Do you think she knew? I mean, how could she, but . . . some of the things in her diary almost seemed like she did know, about us.”
He shook his head slowly, reaching out to smooth Inuakamori's hair. “I didn't understand why she wanted me to have that diary. I never really thought it'd be something I wanted to read. When Myouga first told me to find it, I thought he was insane. It seemed so stupid at the time.”
“But you needed to know, didn't you? That you were chosen? That you were loved?” she asked quietly.
“Keh. Maybe I just didn't really understand either of them, why they chose to have me.”
“Do you understand now?”
He shrugged, his gaze slowly lifting to lock with hers. “They chose to have me so that I could protect you.”
“They chose to have you so we could protect each other,” she contradicted.
He grinned then sighed. “I hate what happened to Mother . . . and I'll never understand that.”
Kagome shrugged. “Maybe she just wanted to let you know that you weren't meant to understand it, at the time. Maybe she just wanted to let you know that it was all right to let go of the past, that you can't do anything but try to make the future better, for yourself and for your children.”
He leaned forward and kissed her. How was it that Kagome could understand things that he never had? The girl he'd first met, the woman she'd become, the miko with the strength of all the mikos who had ever guarded the Shikon no Tama . . . this one jewel, this one creature who could mystify him and beguile him at the same time . . . . Had the only true meaning in his mother's diary been the knowledge that, in order to gain the most precious things in life, he had to learn to let go of the past?
InuYasha smiled as Kagome sighed against his lips. Of all the mysteries in his life, of all the chronicles of passing time, of every answer that led to another question, maybe the greatest gift, the greatest truth, had been found in the worn pages of an old diary . . . .
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Final Thought fromKagome:
Drums, huh . . .
Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in Chronicles): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize.