InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Other Lives ❯ Chapter II: A Mysterious Monk ( Chapter 2 )

II: A Mysterious Monk

 

 

Inuyasha was hailed with great enthusiasm by the villagers as their savior. Most of them remembered him from six years ago, the time when Kikyo had still been living and Inuyasha had been constantly at her side (or, rather, skulking about fifteen feet away). While he had frightened them at first, they had grown used to his presence.

He looked younger than Kaede remembered. As a child, she had seen him as an adult. She was a woman now, and Inuyasha had not grown any older. To her surprise, they appeared to be exactly the same age. Yet he seemed less feral and cautious now, and more confident. The old Inuyasha would not have been able to stand more than a moment of this noisy crowd of villagers surrounding him and jabbering questions. Now, he lasted several minutes before displaying signs of extreme discomfort and potential fury. Noticing his almost panicked expression jerked Kaede back to reality.

“Let's go,” she said. “I'll give you dinner.”

Inuyasha scowled and followed her. A flash of pain crossed his face when he caught sight of the home she had shared with Kikyo, but he made no comment. He sat cross-legged on the floor and watched while Kaede got a fire started and began cooking some stew.

She had no idea what to say.

“Is he dead, then?” she asked at last. “Did you avenge my sister?”

Inuyasha smashed a fist against the floor, splintering the boards that covered it. Kaede winced.

“That bastard Naraku!” he snarled. “Every time I get scent of him, he slips away somehow. He's as slippery as a damn eel. He doesn't have the entire Jewel, though. I'm trying to track down the pieces before he gets them.”

Kaede passed him a bowl of stew.

“I'm glad you're back Inuyasha. You were away for a long time.”

“Keh!” he said, shoveling stew into his mouth. “I just happened to be passing by. Tomorrow, I'll be on my way. I heard something promising about a village of demon slayers to the north.”

“Yes, I think someone from there gave Kikyo the Jewel to protect…” Kaede began, but Inuyasha was no longer listening to her. He seemed focused on something outside of the hut.

“Damn, he's here,” he said, setting down his bowl. Kaede, fearing an enemy attack, reached for her bow.

“No need,” Inuyasha said. He darted outside the hut, and Kaede heard the sounds of violent scuffling. A moment later a golden ringed monk's staff landed near the fire. A black and purple robed body followed with a thud.

“Got any rope?” Inuyasha called.

The person on the floor let out an indignant cry and sat up, rubbing the bump on his head.

“Honestly, that was completely unnecessary.”

From the staff and robes, Kaede judged that he was a traveling monk. He seemed friendly enough. He was a young man, no more than ten years her senior, and had a charming sort of face and a broad smile that made her heart flutter against her better judgment. His black hair was tied back in a braid that fell about halfway down his back, with several small silver bells hanging on the end. His right hand was heavily bandaged, and plastered in some sacred scrolls. Kaede wondered what kind of injury could warrant such protections.

“An honor to meet you, gracious lady,” he said, clasping her hands and bowing. “I am Miatsu, a wandering monk, your humble servant…”

Kaede suppressed a nervous giggle.

“Stow it,” Inuyasha interrupted. “Didn't I tell you to stop following me?”

“Something to that effect,” Miatsu admitted. “But isn't cooperation surely the best way to destroy Naraku? And you never told me the location of the village you heard a rumor about.”

“You are an enemy of Naraku, then?” Kaede asked him.

He nodded. “I have opposed his efforts to seize power as best I could. In return, he gave me this.” He gestured with his bandaged arm.

Kaede offered him a bowl of stew, which he gratefully accepted. Feeling bolder, she asked,

“Are you injured? I know a fair bit of herb lore—perhaps I can help you.”

He shook his head. “Thank you, gracious lady, but no herb lore can cure this wound.” He did not seem inclined to say more, so Kaede did not press him.

They sat and ate, saying nothing. At first Inuyasha glowered at Miatsu over the edge of his bowl. Then, he stood, and began to inspect every corner of the hut. He seemed to be searching for something.

He sniffed at a chest tucked against one wall and flung it open. His claws dug deep grooves into the lid. After he had shifted all of Kaede's clothing aside into a pile on the floor, he pulled out a pair of long red pants and clutched them to his chest. They must still smell like Kikyo, Kaede realized. She felt tears spring to her eyes.

Inuyasha glanced up at her.

“Where is she buried?” he demanded.

“Do you want to see the grave?” Kaede said. “It's nearby—I can bring you there.”

He hesitated for a moment, and then nodded.

She led him to where her sister's ashes were buried, a short walk from her hut. The villagers had erected a shrine there, in her memory. Some of them left humble offerings there from time to time. Kikyo was well on her way to becoming a saint.

Inuyasha stared at the shrine, seeming almost confused.

“It's been six years, hasn't it?” he asked.

“Seven, this autumn.”

“It seems like it has been much longer. Strange. I've lived a long time already, but these years have been the longest, and the emptiest. But for you, they were full, weren't they?”

Kaede was startled. Inuyasha rarely spoke like this. He tended to keep his thoughts to himself, and his emotions even more so.

“I had a lot to do,” she agreed. “But I was lonely.”

They stood looking at the grave for a long time. The red sun was beginning to sink behind the horizon, and the air was growing cold.

“You better go back now,” he said, glancing up at the appearing moon.

“Are you coming?”

“Maybe.”

She left him there, crouching by the grave, staring moodily into the sky.

She wanted to ask if he still planned to leave the next day, but she knew he would. Naraku still lived, and pieces of the Jewel were unaccounted for. Without Kikyo, there was nothing for him here. The village—Kaede's whole world—was nothing to Inuyasha except a painful memory. No doubt, Kaede herself meant as little. She was nothing but a child to him, the younger sister, who he felt somewhat comfortable with and treated familiarly. He had probably never spared a thought for her over these endless years. So much for Kaede's long-lost hero. She felt angry with herself for all the ridiculous dreams of his return she had cherished. And yet, she almost wished she could go with him when he left. He made the world she knew seem so very small.