InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Out of Time ❯ Eyes ( Chapter 12 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
Miroku wanted to look away. He tried to do it several times, but his gaze kept returning to Sango, and he couldn't help the gnawing bite of jealousy as she laughed softly with Kisho. She reached out, touching the hanyou's arm in a much too familiar way. Miroku understood now, why InuYasha tended to growl. He felt like doing it, himself . . .
“If they weren't our guides, I'd fucking shred them,” InuYasha remarked in a low rumble.
Miroku didn't take his eyes off Sango but he nodded in agreement. “I don't think I've ever wished that my kazaana was bigger, myself,” he admitted.
“That is one of the stupidest things I think I've ever heard out of you, monk.”
Intolerable. That was the perfect word for the situation. It had been two days since they'd left the shrine to find answers, and in those two days, Sango had barely left Kisho's side. For some reason, they seemed to enjoy staring at one another, and it was driving Miroku insane. `Jealous,' he thought with an inward grimace. `What is it about those two? It isn't just Sango. Yukio has some sort of odd power over Kagome, as well . . .'
InuYasha shot off his stool, stalking over to one of the girls in particular. “Back off, Yukio.”
After one last long stare into Kagome's eyes, Yukio finally shifted his gaze to his uncle. “Is there something wrong, Uncle InuYasha?”
InuYasha flushed and snorted. “Feh! Enough of that uncle crap, and stay the fuck away from Kagome!” That said, the surly hanyou grabbed Kagome's arm and dragged her away from Yukio despite Kagome's protests. Yukio sighed and grinned then tapped Kisho's shoulder.
Miroku frowned as Kisho turned to stare at his brother. When the violet-eyed hanyou looked away, Sango jumped slightly, red sneaking up her face as a bewildered frown furrowed her brow.
“We're going to make sure everything is in order for tomorrow. I hope none of you get sea sick,” Kisho remarked. The two left the hotel room. Miroku sauntered over and locked the door behind them before crossing his arms over his chest and pinning Sango with a telling stare.
“Mind telling me what all that was about, Kagome?” InuYasha snarled.
Kagome frowned and shook her head slowly. Sango wandered over to stare out the window. “I don't know . . . it was as though, once I looked at him, I couldn't look away.”
Miroku frowned. “What you said, Kagome . . . is that what's happening to you, Sango?”
The youkai exterminator didn't seem like she heard him. Finally, she turned to face the rest of them, eyes downcast, flush riding high. “It feels like I can't look away, like he speaks to me with his eyes.”
“Hypnotism?” Miroku mused. “Is it possible?”
Kagome sighed, rubbing her forehead. “It's possible . . . but they're Sesshoumaru's sons. Surely he wouldn't want them to go around using such powers on us, would he?”
“Are you kidding? Like that bastard would care!” InuYasha scoffed. Miroku hid his smile. The hanyou had moved noticeably closer to Kagome since the conversation had begun. Easier to accept Kagome's odd behavior because of the brothers' perceived powers? Perhaps . . . “From now on, they're going to stay the hell away from both of you.”
“I think they're harmless though,” Sango added. “Kisho . . .”
To Miroku's amazement, Sango's flush darkened, and she smiled. “Sango?”
“He's looking for a mate,” Kagome stated flatly. “They both are.”
InuYasha growled fiercely in response. “What?”
The miko glanced at InuYasha and patted his cheek with an impish grin. “No need to be jealous, InuYasha. I'm not interested.”
InuYasha flushed furiously. “I'm not—I never—You damn well better not be!”
Miroku chuckled at InuYasha's seeming inability to state his feelings. His gaze wandered to Sango, and he sighed inwardly. She, unlike Kagome, still seemed to be suffering the effects of the hypnotism. Looking bemused, staring out the window with a wan smile, Miroku had to wonder if she really didn't welcome Kisho's attention. He shook his head. If she did, then there really wasn't much he could do about it. `Better to focus on something I can control,' he thought with a determined frown, `like finding and eliminating Naraku . . . again.' He sighed. Sango glanced up at him, and she smiled as color filtered into her cheeks again. `Then, Sango . . .' his gaze dropped to his cursed hand. `After this . . . then, perhaps, there can be an `us'.'
“Are we sure that Yukio and Kisho know where Naraku is hiding?” Miroku asked, deliberately pushing aside his questions about Sango. “And if they know—if Sesshoumaru knew—why didn't he take care of Naraku already?”
Kagome grabbed the remote control and flicked off the television. “I don't think they know where Naraku is, exactly. It's his miasma that we're following. As for Sesshoumaru . . . I don't think he could have. I don't think he knew until lately.”
InuYasha sat up suddenly and pinned Kagome with a probing stare. “Which reminds me . . . how about telling me what you did to purify the Shikon no Tama . . . and why do I have the feeling that Sesshoumaru knows?”
“He was there,” she said softly, staring at her hands folded in her lap. “I didn't know it until afterward. I don't know why he was there. I asked him but he wouldn't tell me.” She drew a deep breath, determination creeping into her tone as she slapped her hands down on her knees and said, “I did what I thought I had to do; that's all. I just wanted the jewel destroyed. I didn't want it to hurt anyone else.”
The unsettling sense of foreboding settled over the room like a dark cloud. Miroku and InuYasha exchanged knowing looks. Kagome stood and wandered over to Sango. “She really ain't going to tell us,” InuYasha said quietly as he stared at Kagome's back.
“I don't think so. Do you have any ideas?”
“Feh! Yeah. I should have beaten the answers out of Sesshoumaru like I wanted to.”
“There it is. Mt. Sorrow.”
Stopping to stare at the mist-covered mountain, the evil in the air was almost something that they could touch. Sango felt the familiar anger, the real frustration, the hate and bitterness rise up to choke her. Naraku, who had cost her everyone and everything she'd ever know. `Why was he allowed to survive?'
Slowly, deliberately, she dragged out the slayer's mask that she had thought she'd never need again.
Miroku stared at his gloved hand. In the course of the four days it had taken to reach Mt. Sorrow, his kazaana had remained covered, protected, but he could feel it. Deep within, he understood. The kazaana that had sucked in his grandfather and his father had grown. Not life-threatening—not yet—still, it was frightening, how rapidly it had come to regain size, and if it continued to grow at the same rate . . . `Best to find and destroy him quickly.'
With grim determination, Miroku closed his fist around the prayer beads that sealed the curse.
InuYasha glowered at the mist on the mountain, recalling times long past, of hearts left torn and bleeding. The image of Kikyou that would never go away . . . the vision of the miko who had died trying to protect the Shikon no Tama from Naraku flashed before his eyes. The image of Kagome, nocking back an arrow—the last arrow—the arrow that shot through Naraku the first time: the arrow that sent Naraku into oblivion. They thought he had been destroyed. InuYasha had been in awe of Kagome's strength. She alone had banished Naraku . . . or so they had thought. `Damn you to hell, Naraku . . . you won't get away this time . . . for Kikyou, and for Kagome . . . and for me.'
Baring his fangs in a vicious snarl, InuYasha closed his hand over Tetsusaiga's hilt, ready to draw and quarter anyone who stepped between them and their goal.
Kagome watched, helpless against the emotions that crossed her friends' faces. `If you tell them, they'll understand.' She shook her head slowly. Unlike Sesshoumaru—so convinced that she'd made a terrible mistake—Kagome was sure now that she had not, but just as sure as she was that she'd not made a mistake in purifying the jewel, she was also convinced, as well, that her friends wouldn't understand. They'd be upset that she'd wished such a thing. No, best not to tell them. In the end, they'd all realize it was her choice, and it was one that she made willingly.
`Or maybe,' she thought with the ever-present optimism that she liked to think was her trademark . . . `Maybe there was another way . . . .' She simply needed to figure out what it was.
Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in Out of Time): 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.