InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ If At First You Don't Succeed ❯ Chapter 2 ( Chapter 2 )

Dude. I was just revising this and it occurs to me that a few parts are sort of gory. I'd like to extend my apologies in advance (I took out some of the more graphic parts, but I think to take out any more would detract from the story.) I'd also like to say that I shamelessly stole a key concept from David Eddings's The Belgariad - nothing that I could really be sued for, but hey, credit where credit is due. Bonus points if you can guess which part.

If At First You Don't Succeed

by wildgoose

CHAPTER 1

He wasn't going to make it. It wouldn't matter if he went without sleep for the next twelve hours to work on it, there was no way he would finish in time. He would fail. So there was really no point in even trying. Fuck deadlines. And fuck the editors, too. He put down his pen and rocked back in his chair, running his hands through his dark red hair. He glanced down at his desk, mentally sighing at the mess he inevitably made every time he mixed a watercolor wash. Why do I even do this? It's not like I need the money.

It was true. By now, Shippou was likely the wealthiest man in Japan; interest did breed like crazy, after all, once you'd given it a couple of hundred years to get going. Or he would have been the wealthiest man in Japan, if he didn't give as much of his money away as he could. Secretly, of course, under a number of names. It wouldn't do to have the world at large know that the various philanthropists funding a number of orphanages, schools, and scholarship programs were the last youkai to walk the world for a good five hundred fifty years. Deep down, though, Shippou knew why he worked, albeit as a low-paid manga artist. More than just that the work was (usually) enjoyable and satisfying, it helped to distract him. Because the truth was that Shippou was lonely. And it wasn't the sort of lonely that he could ease by going out and making friends; no, he was supposed to be lonely, because he had made a deal with a god. He could feel the memories of that night bubbling up inside of him, unbidden, unwanted. He tried to push them back. He needed to distract himself, to get back to work, to stop thinking. He needed to finish drawing the story about the young gunman, who was really a young gunwoman, on a quest to.... do.... something important.

'Fantastic art, magnificent plot, well-placed humor to balance out the darker sides of the story,' raved the critics at Anime Bob's Garage, the up and coming review column; Shippou's story had been quickly noticed and well-loved, especially because of the good characterization, such as the sad but compassionate --priestess-- cross dresser and the gruff but unswervingly protective --hanyou-- ex-cop. Shippou mentally chided his subconscious. He was not going to think about them, wasn't going to think about the surrogate family, the sweet-tempered and charmingly naive mother figure, the jaded but devoted uncle/protector, the people that he had known for only a few months and yet loomed large as giants in his memory. Kagome, his mind whispered. Inuyasha, Miroku, Sango, Kirara.... Shippou gave up the ghost of resistance and let himself remember that night. The night that he'd had to grow up all at once. The night that was his first of many nights alone.

~~~~

Shippou woke in darkness, surrounded closely by den walls. He could smell his mother, could feel her comforting presence warm at his side. Outside, Papa must be growing something, because Earth magic hummed beneath him, and he could feel happy living things underground getting ready to grow. He snuggled closer to Mama, ready to go back to sleep. But the den walls shifted and moved around him, and a stiff wall of fabric kept him from reaching his Mama, no matter how hard he tried.

And then he remembered. Not a den. Not Mama's smell. S'Kagome's smell. Kagome's bookbag. Mama's.... dead. Papa's dead. They died. Resolutely he pushed back grief, because there was something wrong outside, and crying now would not help anything. I fell asleep after I crawled in here. And now.... Shippou could tell that it was dark outside, that Kagome was wearing the bookbag and standing, but not walking. He could feel the warm curve of her back through the cloth, the heat that he had thought belonged to M-- to someone else. All was silent, but there was some heavy Earth magic wreathing the immediate area, ropes and threads of power weaving together to form a spell. It wasn't ready yet, but would be soon. Whoever was working the spell would have to wait until the morning brought sunlight if they were trying to grow green plants, but Shippou was not yet strong enough in kitsune lore to be able to tell what the thrumming strands were asking of the Earth. At any rate, there was definitely something wrong. He'd be able to tell better once he could get a whiff of the air outside.

Cautiously, he poked his nose out of the half-unzipped opening of the yellow bookbag. Right away he smelled Kagome - her hair, thick and long, fell right in front of his face. I can't smell anything else from here, he thought. I'd better get up higher. He clambered up out of the bag, holding tightly to the straps and propping himself up on top, sticking his little nose out past Kagome's neck. Kagome didn't stir at all, he noted anxiously. A sleep spell, maybe? he wondered.

He sniffed deeply of the night air. They were in the woods, and it had just rained. Damp loam and greenery and fresh rainwater smell mingled with the smells of people - Inuyasha (dominant-male, sharp smell of Tetsusaiga), Kirara (smoke-smell; she's in her large form), Miroku (soap, sweat, the astringent smell of spiritual powers, stale air-smell of the Kazaana), Sango (floral shampoo, leather, bone) - all present and accounted for, and none of the thick organic-metal smell of blood. But two additional smells on the wind killed his relief: the cloying, chokingly-sweet smell of an unfamiliar flower, reeking of Earth magic, and the signature scent shared by several very, very bad people. Something was most definitely wrong.

I need to see, Shippou thought, pushing his way through Kagome's thick hair. Moonlight illuminated the clearing ahead enough that he could see his friends, standing in a rough semicircle ahead of where he was, or as if they were arranged in a large V, with Kagome at the apex. On the path he could make out the faint figure of a woman, arms over her head. Beside her was the unmistakable silhouette of a tall man with long flowing hair. Naraku.

At that moment, the weave of magic gave a final shudder and pulled taut. The two dimensional net suddenly expanded, grew a third dimension and dropped underground. Shippou felt seeds that had not been there moments ago germinate. How is she going to.... there's no sun out!

And his question was answered as the woman began to glow, brightly, then brighter, removing all doubt about Naraku's identity before Shippou had to cover his eyes. He heard the earth break open, then a faint rustling. When the glow faded, flowering vines held his friends solidly, binding them at wrist, ankle and waist. The pollen on every little white flower flew into the air with a faint pip. And then Kagome breathed some in and Shippou's vision was obscured by her hair as she coughed and sneezed and woke up. He could tell from the sounds around him that the pollen was working on them, too.

When he could see again, the woman was gone, and only Naraku remained, standing alone in the clearing. Shippou felt Kagome tense beneath him, as Inuyasha snarled angrily. "Naraku! What have you done to us?" Shippou could almost taste Inuyasha's anger as he strained at his bindings.

Naraku smiled. "I'm here for the jewel."

"Fuck you!"

"Inuyasha, always so eloquent. One can always tell when someone has been well-educated." His voice conveyed levels of condescension, as well as mild amusement.

"Shut up, you fucking asshole, and let us go."

The humor seemed to drain out of Naraku's face, his red eyes black in the faint moonlight. "All of you have ceased to surprise me, and therefore you are no longer amusing. I tire of this game and I find myself ready to end it. You will die here tonight, Inuyasha, you and all of your friends."

"Bite me!"

But Naraku did not answer Inuyasha, seeming to notice Sango for the first time. He walked up to her, and Shippou could not see Sango's face, but Naraku's filled with a detached sort of pleasure. "Sango, my dear," he said, gently reaching out to touch her face. "It has been far too long since I saw you last. How have you been?"

Sango said nothing, though she flinched when he touched her.

"Now, now, my dear," said Naraku, now stroking her hair, "aren't you going to enquire after my young vassal's health?" He paused expectantly, but Sango still was silent. "No? I shall tell you anyway. Before I left to visit you, I removed the shard of the Shikon no Tama from his back, and I had my newest child, Kohana, use her healing arts on him."

Sango did not speak, but Shippou could feel her hoping in spite of herself.

Naraku smiled, handsome face chiseled into marble in the silver light of the moon. "And then I returned to him his memories." Looking down at her, his slight smile widened. "Kanna tells me that he impaled himself on his own scythe. Isn't that ungrateful of him?"

"NO!" Sango cried out in anguish, segueing into racking sobs.

"She says that he caught himself in the belly but did not hit any vital organs, so it will probably take him an hour or two yet to die of blood loss." His voice was filled with mock sympathy. "He couldn't even kill himself properly. How sad."

Kirara's yowl was angry and hate-filled, and in the space of an instant she had flashed to her small size, escaping from the vines that bound her, then large again as she leapt for Naraku's unguarded throat. But Naraku's katana flashed from its sheath and in a streak of silver, Kirara lay on the ground, mewling weakly as blood leaked onto the earth from the gaping gash in her side. Even as he watched, Shippou heard the cries gurgle as her lungs began slowly filling with blood.

"You are nothing, Naraku."

The sound of Kagome's quiet, rage-filled voice caused Naraku to turn toward her in surprise. "Ah, Lady Kagome. This is most unexpected. No cries of grief? No remonstrations? Whatever has happened to the naïveté, the charming belief in humanity?"

Kagome ignored him. "You are less than nothing. You seek to destroy that which you cannot possess. In the end you will be left with nothing. All that you touch turns to ashes, and you will be consumed by the fire that drives you. Hear me, Naraku-that-was-Onigumo, and beware, lest ye pass the point beyond which there is no hope of redemption." Shippou was confused. This wasn't Kagome, was it? Kagome never spoke in such a manner…. And yet. And yet it was Kagome, or part of her. She was rigid with tension. and Shippou could feel her holy power burn within her. But the power turned back at her hands - why? Shippou wasn't sure, but he didn't think that any last-minute rescues were going to be coming from Kagome. Which meant that it was up to Shippou, as the only free member of the party remaining. But what could he do? And he was so afraid.

Naraku began to walk toward Kagome, who was shaking with rage beneath Shippou's hands, frowning slightly. "Kagome-sama. You were ever an enigma to me. Join me, forsake your companions, and I will spare your life." He stood before her now, and Shippou shrank back beneath the sheltering veil of Kagome's hair.

"Never," spat Kagome. "For even if you kill us, we will still win. No one of the family that you manufacture from your disgusting body will ever love you, and you will be alone forever, beloved of none, hated and feared by all."

And now it was Naraku's turn to burn with rage, drawing back his hand. Shippou felt Kagome brace herself for a blow, hearing the shouts of the others, impotent in their captivity to help their most defenseless friend. But he only snapped the Shikon no Tama no kakera from its place about Kagome's neck, drawing from within his haori the rest of the jewel. "I have it all. I sent Kagura to take the two shards from your little wolf friend. She was most eager to take on the assignment herself. I believe she has taken a very strong dislike to wolves. I do believe she wished to take her time with him. Now, little girl, you shall watch as all of your dreams are shattered, and we will see who is alone when you are drowning in the blood of your companions." He put the pieces in his palm and covered them with his other hand. Shippou felt a momentary surge of power, and when Naraku removed his hand, the Shikon no Tama, the Sacred Jewel of the Four Souls, sat there, complete at last and black in its corruption. Yet even as he stood there, the Jewel began to glow pink once more, as Kagome cleansed it of evil. Shippou tensed. It was time.

He leapt, without thinking, out of Kagome's hair and threw a bolt of kitsune-bi, the trademark blue flame directly into Naraku's startled face. Snatching the Shikon no Tama from his hand, he hit the ground and ran like hell toward the trees, a little more than shocked that he had gotten away with it.

Now what? Do I make a wish? What do I wish for? Naraku dead? Do I only get one?

His train of thought was broken when he tripped and fell.

When Shippou opened his eyes, all he was could see was blue, blue all around him. He couldn't tell if he was facing up or down, and he was just starting to panic, wondering if he'd died, when there was a voice. Calm down, child, it said. You're fine. I've been waiting. Or I will be.

"Huh? Me?" Shippou was confused.

You made a wish. Or are going to. Didn't you wonder why Kagome could transcend time, albeit through a well?

"Not.... not really...."

Uninquiring minds were the downfall of the North American Empire, child. You would do well to learn from their mistakes.

"I - I've never heard of that, sir. Is uninquiring actually a word?"

Hmm. Maybe it was. Or it will be. I get confused sometimes. But that's par for the course when you live in the fourth dimension. You tend to get mixed up.

Shippou, only having understood about half of the previous sentence, chose to change the subject. "What should I call you, sir? …. Or ma'am? I don't wish to be impolite."

You may call me…. I'm not sure. I'm not precisely who I was before I came to be in this form…. I believe the most accurate term for the moment would be the Shikon no Kami.

"The god of Four Souls?"

Yes, that will do nicely.

"Okay…."

Enough dilly-dallying, short stuff. Make your wish and be prepared to accept the consequence.

"Excuse me, but I don't know quite what you mean...."

Didn't I explain this already? No? Well, you make your wish, and in return you agree to pay the price.

"But why?"

Because, child. You have to. Your actions set the course of events rolling, and to set them aright you must pay the price.

"So, I make a wish?"

That's right, kiddo.

"Shippou."

What?

"Never mind. What if I make the wrong one?"

You can't. It's physically impossible. So? Come on, kid. Let 'er rip.

For a moment, Shippou was tempted. Who wouldn't be? Please bring my mom and dad back. But, really, what would that solve?

I suppose you could wish that. I could do it. Of course, you would be tearing them from the afterlife, and then there's the question of bodies for them - their own are rather unusable now, but there are a couple of likely candidates out there - Kagome's body might work rather well, as would Inuyasha or Miroku's....

"No! Don't kill Kagome! That's not my wish!"

Somehow I knew you'd say that....

"I wish.... for everyone to have a second chance to defeat Naraku. I wish to have everything work out all right for everyone in the end.... was that all right, Shikon no Kami?"

That was absolutely perfect. When your exile is at an end, be assured that I shall notify you. Get ready, because here we go....

Shippou opened his eyes. Naraku, Inuyasha, Kagome, Sango, Miroku, the broken body of Kirara - all were gone. The only things left behind were their clothing. He heard a whisper in his mind, a fading voice with a hint of bold to it: You pay the price, short stuff. Your darkest fear....

His darkest fear. Suddenly understanding, Shippou crumpled to the ground, holding Kagome's uniform to his face, trying to catch the lingering smell of her hair. All alone, he began to cry.

~~~~

Shippou sat up with a start as his alarm clock went off. Six a.m. already - where had the night gone? He was brooding too much. It was the damn city, that's what it was. Tokyo, and the Shikon no Tama, and the Goshinboku - they all were reminders of his involuntary solitude. He needed to get away. France? The U.S.? San Francisco, maybe? It sounded like a good idea, but there were many Japanese in California. New York City? New York City sounded good. The other side of the world, where he maybe could forget. And the Shikon no Kami could just go and fuck itself.