InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Quadrangle ❯ Myoga Spills the Beans ( Chapter 12 )

A/N: Yes, it's late. Sorry.

 

Disclaimer: I do not own any character created by Rumiko Takahashi.

 

Chapter 12 - Myoga Spills the Beans

 

At a sharp prick on his cheek, Inuyasha slapped the flat of his hand against his face, only dimly registering the pained grunt under his palm. Moving his hand to the front of his face, he stared at the squashed contents with resigned irritation.

 

“So happy to see you, milord!” Myoga squeaked as his body reformed.

 

Inuyasha resisted the temptation to squish him again and responded with a rude, “Feh.” He was feeling more anti-social than usual, this afternoon. The cheerfully babbling brook, Kikyou's strangely ingratiating and conciliatory behavior, and Sango's and Miroku's light laughter floating up from the bank were putting him on edge, constantly reminding him that he'd lost something. He'd lost his home. The only thing he could think of doing was to go back to Kaede's village and somehow making amends. She would be there, of course she would; she always went home when they had a fight but he had to catch her before she went through the well. Whether or not she could (or would) come back was not a risk he was willing to take.

 

He should have pushed them to keep moving, but Kikyou had asked for a break. Granted, they'd been on the move since dawn and he'd been pushing the pace pretty hard; the flare of power he'd felt the night before and the ache of her absence was still chewing on the back of his mind, worrying it with sharp puppy teeth. However, the woman had been riding on his back! He was doing all the goddamn work!

 

“Quit your whining,” he'd snapped, not really remembering to whom he was speaking. “We still have a ways to go before we reach the village.”

 

Miroku had come to her rescue from his seat behind Sango on Kirara. “Come on, Inuyasha, the Lady Kikyou is not used to traveling in such a manner. I, myself, would not mind refilling my water skin and stretching my legs.”

 

“Shut the hell up, monk!” he'd yelled and pushed off the ground with more force than necessary, being rewarded with a quiet `urp' from his passenger. Her discomfort, obvious now though he hadn't noticed it before, had sent a spike of guilt through his gut, which had only served to irritate him further. After all, it was his passenger who had cost him his contentedness.

 

“Inuyasha, be reasonable!” Sango had chastised him, exasperation coloring her voice.

 

“Keh! Kagome could handle it!” The slight gasp, the sudden stiffening of her body caused Inuyasha to miss his next step and he staggered slightly before regaining his balance. Then, his words hit him in the stomach and he'd wheezed, feeling three unfriendly stares on the back of his head. “Fine!” he'd shouted, abruptly dropping his arms so that Kikyou slid unceremoniously off his back. “We'll take a fucking break for you weak humans. A short break!”

 

Without a glance at Kikyou's face, after all he didn't need one, he'd seen the expression on Kagome's face too many times to count, he'd launched himself into the tree to brood. Myoga's interruption of his thoughts, no matter how desolate, was not welcome. At least he knew they weren't in any danger, which was a pity because he would have welcomed a good fight.

 

“Such a greeting for you loyal retainer,” Myoga sighed in mock despair, almost bursting with the juicy bits of news he'd picked up. “After all the work I went through to gather information!”

 

“Feh.”

 

“And what a lovely mood you are in today! Might it have anything to do with the Lady Kagome's absence?” Myoga asked flippantly and unwisely. Inuyasha squished him.

 

A much more sober and cautious Myoga reinflated in Inuyasha's palm and took a moment to straighten his clothes. Well, it had been a stupid thing to say to the touchy hanyou, but he'd simply assumed that the sweet young miko had gone to her own time and with Kikyou traveling with them, he hadn't expect to incite his ire quite so quickly. Myoga saw Inuyasha's other clawed hand move into his line of sight and cleared his throat before he could be flicked into the air. Oh, the life of a flea!

 

“Lord Inuyasha! Just a moment!” he waved his hands and sighed in relief when the hand paused. “I've heard many strange things over the last few weeks and must speak with you!”

 

Inuyasha's fingers twitched, but he brought his hand down anyway. “Spit it out, old man.”

 

Myoga chose to ignore this insult in order to prevent more bodily harm. He cleared his throat, warming up the joys of gossip mongering, even with an irate hanyou with itchy fingers. “I heard that the evil hanyou, Naraku, was defeated! Your work, I presume?” At Inuyasha's grunt and nod, the flea bounced merrily in his palm. “That's wonderful, I always knew you could do it!”

 

“That ain't news, Myoga.”

 

The flea was not to be dissuaded. “There is a rumor that you and your half-brother were placed under a wicked spell that diminished your powers and made you both temporarily insane!”

 

“I'm fine,” Inuyasha grumbled, wondering uncharitably if maybe the flea was disappointed that his little gem of knowledge was false. He felt under no obligation to inform the flea of the true nature of the spell or its effects. “That it?”

 

“No, not by far!” Myoga chafed his hands, a glint in his beady eyes. “I also heard the Shikon no Tama was stolen by a powerful sorceress who intends to make slaves of handsome demons! Which is absurd, of course, because Kagome-sama has it. Right, milord?” Though the old flea had scoffed at this tidbit of information, especially when he had found Inuyasha in a tree and not blasting holes in things with Tetsusaiga, he still found it an interesting tale.

 

Inuyasha rolled his eyes and reconsidered squishing the flea. Myoga must have seen his claws twitch again, because he barreled on with his next headline. So preposterous, he was sure it was entertaining enough get a laugh out of the hanyou, who seemed to need one. Myoga had certainly laughed, though not until he was out of earshot of the lovely mite who had told him. “This bit of information is very new, having only happened last night, and is sworn true by its source and eyewitness!” Pausing for effect, Myoga relished the small gleam of interest in his lord's eye, despite his irritated scowl. “She said that your brother, Lord Sesshomaru-“

 

“Half-brother,” Inuyasha growled, interrupting the flea's momentum.

 

“…she said that Lord Sesshomaru has mated a human miko!” Myoga finished with a flourish and waited for the hilarity to commence. Inuyasha stared at him as if he'd grown a third pair of arms, mouth agape and eyes wide with shock and horror. Myoga shifted restlessly, “Ahaha, isn't that rich, milord? Your brother…and a human…miko…?”

 

Inuyasha felt his thought processes grind to a halt, could almost hear the wheels and cogs in his brain creak and groan as once well-oiled teeth stuck and jammed.

 

“What?” he croaked, pinching the flea, who had suddenly decided he'd worn out his welcome, between two claws that had moved by themselves, bypassing his crippled brain altogether. “What did you SAY?” The volume of his voice rose with each word and ended on a roar, sending a nearby flock of roosting birds into an airborne panic.

 

Myoga trembled, wishing he'd kept his big mouth shut or that he'd decided to spend more time with that pretty mite or that he'd never met the mite in the first place since he'd met prettier bugs, after all or-

 

Inuyasha shook the flea, baring his teeth to expose sharp fangs and digging his free claws into the bark of the tree branch. It wasn't possible, Sesshomaru would never…but he'd taken Kagome…what if…there must be some mistake…

 

“Inuyasha, why are you yelling?” Sango called up to him, clearly annoyed by the disruption of the peaceful afternoon. Where were Kagome and her subduing spell, anyway?

 

“M-m-milord! I-I'm sure there w-w-as nothing t-t-t-o it!” Myoga stuttered out between shakes, sure that his poor head would never sit right on his neck again.

 

“Of course there's nothing to it!” Inuyasha snarled, squeezing the flea until he turned blue. Kagome would never do that! And none of the stupid flea's other stories were right, so it wasn't necessarily Kagome! Or his brother! After all, he'd spent over a week with Kikyou while wearing Sesshomaru's skin - the rumor could be about that! Right?

 

A sharp stone hit his temple and he lost his grip on the flea, who leaped away to the relative safety of Miroku's shoulder. Inuyasha met the monk's glare and pinned his ears threateningly.

 

“I must protest your abuse of your vassal,” Miroku said sternly, refusing to be intimidated by Inuyasha's aggressive display.

 

Myoga shook the blood out of his swollen head, sighing in relief when it was finally redistributed throughout his body. “Oh, thank you, Miroku-sama. He can be such a trial!”

 

“Oi!” Inuyasha dropped from his perch and landed in a crouch, his knuckles cracking as his flexed his claws, murder on his mind.

 

“What has him so worked up?” Sango asked, testing her grip on Hiraikotsu in case she needed to do some noggin knocking.

 

“Perhaps I should wait until the Lady Kagome returns,” Myoga said with a sidelong glance at the snarling Inuyasha. She could subdue him while he told the others his news and then beat a hasty retreat.

 

“The Lady Kagome is with Lord Sesshomaru, but fear not! I will not allow you to come to any more harm. So,” Miroku pluck the flea from his shoulder by the back of his kimono and eyed him speculatively, “why is he angry, Myoga?”

 

“Hmm, she's with him, you say, hmm,” the flea mumbled, frantically trying to find a way out of this mess. He'd honestly believed that the mite had been mistaken in her description of the youkai, which had been: tall, silver hair, and crested with a crescent moon and stripes. However, any youkai worth her salt would know a miko when she saw one. She hadn't named any names; he'd supplied that on his own, delighted by such a tasty morsel of gossip but under the assumption that she had embellished her story. Maybe he shouldn't have mentioned that particular name to the lady mite…

 

“Myoga,” Sango warned. She had one eye trained on the hanyou and her fingers tensed as he rose out of his crouch but didn't loosen his hunched, belligerent stance.

 

“He said that bastard brother of mine mated a miko,” Inuyasha ground out between clenched teeth.

 

“It was only a rumor!” Myoga supplied hurriedly, waving his hands.

 

“A rumor?” Miroku raised an eyebrow and gave the hanyou a penetrating stare. Had Inuyasha bedded an undead Kikyou while in Sesshomaru's body? Twisted, but he had to give the hanyou credit where credit was due. He didn't know if he'd have the fortitude to lay with a clay doll, but then again, she was a fine looking woman… “How old is this `rumor'?”

 

“She said she saw them together last night on the bank of a spring.” As Myoga began to retell his tale and delve into the sordid details, the glowering hanyou slipped the old flea's mind. It was titillating tale, after all, one that he might have given his master's left arm to witness. “The miko was bathing when the youkai approached; she seduced him with bubbles and he took her on a bed of his own silks and furs. The passion of their joining shook the air with spiritual power!” The old flea chuckled to himself, remembering younger days and grand adventures.

 

Sango choked and blushed, an immediate image of Kagome and her soaps forming in her mind. No male in his right mind would be able to resist that, but why would she have chosen Sesshomaru, of all demons? Had she truly seduced him or had she simply been caught unawares? Her stomach did an uneasy roll, `If he forced her, I'll kill him myself.'

 

“Last night? Who saw this?” Miroku asked, swallowing harshly with a mouth that had suddenly gone dry. He'd never known that Kagome had it in her. Well, he'd imagined it a time or two (maybe more), and it also involved Sango and lots of slippery mud, but that was different. Bubbles… But it just didn't sound like the Kagome he knew: innocent, spunky and in love with Inuyasha. She would never allow something like that to happen on a whim; there must be something that they didn't know or Myoga was pulling romance out of his ass. Though he would never begrudge a man his pleasure, the idea of Kagome with Sesshomaru was strange, to say the least.

 

“A lady mite youkai who had taken refuge in a an owl's feathers,” Myoga explained with a knowing leer.

 

Clearing her throat, Sango tried to regain her composure. “The, uh, miko was…willing?” she asked hesitantly, needing to know before she approached her friend.

 

Myoga just chuckled and waggled his bushy eyebrows, “Oh, she was more than willing, if you know what I mean.”

 

Sango wished she didn't. “I didn't know that mites were such…voyeurs.”

 

“It ain't true!” Inuyasha burst out, shaking his fist at the lechers and an embarrassed demon slayer. “It could be anyone! That bastard, when I find him I'm gonna cut off his-”

 

“Calm yourself, Inuyasha! As the good flea said, it is only a rumor!” `Besides,' he thought to himself sarcastically, `many youkai travel with mikos and carry fur.'

 

“It better be, because if he's touched her…” he couldn't finish the thought aloud. It was too horrible, too unthinkable. His Kagome would never betray him like that, not with his own brother. Despite the denials clamoring in his mind, his heart was encased with lead, each beat straining against unyielding metal that was slowly constricting and crushing the tender muscle. The pain was unbearable and unrelenting, his thoughts broken and conflicting, so he buried them deep within himself as he'd trained himself to do since the death of his mother. Don't feel, don't think. `It isn't true, it isn't true…I'm gonna kill that bastard.'

 

Tensing his muscles to spring, he was so wrapped up in images of Sesshomaru meeting a gory demise on the business end of Tetsusaiga that he almost yelped when a soft hand settled on his shoulder.

 

“Inuyasha, please don't leave,” Kikyou forced down the mounting glee and gazed up at him soulfully, her dark eyes wide and pleading. Hanyou he may be, but he was also the son a lord and in line for the leadership of his house if something fatal was to happen to his older brother…such as being hit with a Backlash Wave…

 

All was not lost; she could still salvage a soft life from this mess yet. Though Inuyasha was pining for that floozy in the short skirt, he would remember that it was she, Kikyou, who had first held his heart. Yes, she had said some things that she had meant at the time and now regretted saying (but still meant), but he had never been able to hold a grudge against her. With a couple of firm nudges in the right direction and the leverage of Myoga's `news', true or not, he would be Lord of the Western Lands as she had originally planned and he would give her the life she deserved. However, she could not let him run off on his own; he needed her guidance.

 

Inuyasha stared at the hand on his shoulder, slim, fragile fingers pale against the red of his haori. They tensed, pressing oh so gently against his flesh and felt his gaze drawn to her face. `Kami, she looks like Kagome with those eyes. Kagome…' he broke eye contact to glare into the forest, rolling his shoulder, trying to shrug off the hand that wouldn't budge and instead fastened on to his haori. “Let go, I have to save her.”

 

“Save her from what? What's done is done, there's no going back,” she tugged lightly on his sleeve to emphasize her point.

 

“Kagome would never let him touch her!” `She loves me!' he added silently, dragging his clothing out of Kikyou's grasp with a sharp yank.

 

“Then she is in no danger! Inuyasha, you promised to protect me! You can't leave me here!” Kikyou mentally shuddered at the plaintive, helpless sound of her own voice, but she was playing on two strengths of his character, turning them into weaknesses: his honor and his desire to protect the weak, despite all claims to the contrary.

 

Growling, Inuyasha stomped several steps away, scenting the air as he tussled with his conflicting desires. He wanted to rush headlong back to the village and let the humans follow at their own pace but he had promised. Uttering a short, sharp bark of frustration, he turned to his companions. “Well? Are you gonna stand around all day with your mouths open or are we gonna go?”

 

XxxxxxxxX

 

Kagome sat on the small landing outside of Kaede's hut, chin in her hands as she watched the sun set over the rice patties. Brilliant reds and golds painted the sky and reflected in the flooded fields, turning the dark, shallow water to blood. Long green stalks waving gently in the breeze, the patties reminded her of a giant Chia Pet that had been scalped and left for dead. In reality, the rice patties didn't exist; the village men wandering home with bent backs and aching feet had already died, their cozy huts demolished in favor of apartment buildings and a corner market. They were long gone, as were her friends, and her adventures were nothing more than myths that might have made their way into the annals of history, though probably in a form so convoluted that she may not even recognize them should she find them. Shifting this thought through her mind and recognizing its truth did nothing to alleviate bands tightening over her heart or the crushing mantle of sorrow that had settle over her shoulders when the little village had finally come into view.

 

As they'd descended, the children on Ah-Un and Kagome nestled against Sesshomaru's chest on his silver cloud, Kaede had lumbered from her hut to gaze up at them, a hand shielding her single eye from the last rays of the sun, a smile of greeting stretching her lined mouth. Kagome had almost broken down, so familiar and dear was the little scene, but she'd sucked it up and waved as if nothing were wrong. The old miko hadn't remarked on the absence of the rest of her group, merely raising a bushy eyebrow and welcoming them into her hut for a bite to eat. The children had jumped at the chance and clattered to the fire and bubbling pot of stew, but Kagome had declined despite the hollow ache in her stomach. Food wasn't what she needed. Taking a seat on the rough boards of Kaede's porch, she'd watched Sesshomaru gather up Ah-Un's bridal and lead him away from the village, and there she'd stayed with her morbid thoughts.

 

The boards creaked as Kaede stepped next to her, a silent, sympathetic presence and a pillar of wisdom on which the girl had come to rely more than she'd ever realized. How had this village and the faces of her friends become more real to her than the world in which she was born? When was the last time she'd spent any significant amount of time in the modern era or had given real thought to her future there? Everything she had done there up until now was to prepare for her life here; shopping for travel food and first aid supplies, taking correspondence courses so that she could spend more time here and lean to better treat her friends' injuries. She'd lost track of her high school friends - even Hojo had given up on her and moved away for college. What would she be doing with her life if she'd been allowed to live it as a normal girl? She had no idea; what was normal?

 

“Ye are leaving,” Kaede wizened voice broke her thoughts and Kagome jumped slightly, almost having forgotten that the old miko was standing next to her.

 

“Um…” Kagome said uncomfortably, squirming a little now that she could feel Kaede's searching gaze on her back. She supposed she'd have to tell them soon than later, but now that she was being confronted with the task of saying goodbye, she had no idea where to start. She wasn't very good at saying goodbye; she was much better at storming off in a snit.

 

“It's okay, child.”

 

“You'll make sure that Shippo is taken care of?” Absently smoothing her skirt over her thighs, Kagome watched the silhouette of a man remove his conical hat and arch backwards with a hand on his lower back.

 

“Aye.”

 

“And you'll tell them that I love them?”

 

Kaede was silent a moment, her slightly labored breathing pausing then resuming in a soft sigh. “Ye do not intend to wait for them.”

 

The statement hung in the air, heavy and sad but not an accusation, and, if possible, Kagome felt her heart sink lower. It was cowardly, she knew, to jump down the well without telling any of her companions, but it was the only way she force herself to do it, short of picking a fight with Inuyasha. If she had to endure the tears, hugs, and pleas of her friends, her resolve would weaken; she'd decide to say a bit longer, maybe to see Miroku and Sango married, then meet their first child; the days would stretch to months would stretch to years…

 

And then there was the issue of Inuyasha and Kikyou. Would they have already joined as she and Sesshomaru had? Could she look him in the eye as he came racing into the village, Kikyou perched on his back like she had done so many times? Would he smell her betrayal on her skin and lash out or simply turn his back? She didn't know and she certainly didn't want that memory to be tarnished by harsh, jealous words of a man who had spurned her love for four years. How could she tell him that her heart now belonged to…

 

Kagome ruthlessly squelched that thought before it could finish. Neither she, nor her tender, wounded heart, belonged to anyone. What she had shared with Sesshomaru had been wonderful and magical but nothing more than raging hormones and chemical attraction. That's all it could be because she was not going to have her heart broken again by another careless dog demon. She was not in love with Sesshomaru. Definitely not.

 

“It will be easier this way,” Kagome said finally.

 

XxxxxxxxX

 

With half of his attention, Sesshomaru watched Ah-Un snuffle at a gopher hole under the fronds of a lime green fern. The other half was fixed on an invisible point to his left, the terminus of the thread that connect him to Kagome. He was vaguely uneasy and it bothered him; something was not quite right with his female, the dark scent of sadness was muting her clean fragrance.

 

His female…the thought was inordinately pleasing, despite her upset. Such an odd little creature: a woman just over the cusp of girlhood, once human but now something more, a miko who belonged to a taiyoukai. Striped eyelids hooded a self-satisfied gleam; such a treasure, and she was his.

 

She had wanted to come to this village though it was obvious that it was not her place of origin; it was the same village to which they had gone right after Inuyasha had made his stupid (though fortuitous, in his case) wish. There was nothing out of the ordinary about it; her family did not seem to live here. Why had she wanted to come?

 

He had brought her here to settle her affairs before returning with him to the West. Not really knowing much about mikos, he'd figured that she'd need to find a replacement miko for her village or something of that sort. He hadn't asked, simply assuming that she knew what to do and would do it posthaste. His lands had been left unattended (unless he counted Jaken, which he didn't) for too long and undoubtedly had rumors to squash.

 

Cocking his head, his eyes grew distant as they rose to follow the tension of that strange bond he shared with his female. She was moving slowly but purposefully away from the village. `A bath,' he thought, a lascivious smile tugged at his lips as he pictured her silhouetted in the setting sun, the lays rays of light caressing the curve of her hips and flaring in her dark hair. His hand tightened around the reigns in his palm; perhaps she would appreciate some company.

 

`But why would a bath incite such grief?' With each breath, the air grew heavier with her sorrow, laden with tears that he'd yet to smell, clogging his throat and tingling in his nose. More than a little alarmed, he dropped the reins of his dragon and concentrated on her distant aura, wondering at the keenness with which he felt her emotions. It shouldn't be possible; they had not shared the final bond of mated youkai and he didn't know if they could since, though she was no longer quite human, she was not youkai. Why was she so unhappy? He had to find whatever was making her so upset and dispose of it. The reason behind the empathy could wait.

 

Sesshomaru tasted the air, narrowing his eyes slightly when the scent of spring water was absent. Where was she going? There was no other village around, no humans strolled the forest, and no youkai lurked in the shadows. The only things he could recall in that direction were the ancient tree and a dry well.

 

A whisper at the back of his mind gave him pause: the well…she and Inuyasha had fought about that well. He hadn't paid much attention at the time, for the argument had been nonsensical and childish. Something about `going through the well', but he must have misheard. It had sounded like she used the well to enter her village. Absurd, though his brother had been adamant…that she didn't go home…

 

His back stiffened and muscles tensed as he realized that he'd made a gross oversight. He had always seen the miko dressed strangely, but had not even thought to question the reason. Her accent, the `ninja food', the books and soaps in her bag, he'd encountered none of these things before meeting her but he'd never bothered to analyze them. Her friends had taken them for granted and he, not caring about the trappings of mortals, had accepted them as par for the course. Suddenly, he felt rather foolish and a bit peeved.

 

His female was keeping secrets from him; this was unacceptable.

 

With even, measured steps, long hair swaying gently as he moved, he stalked his prey, annoyance and concern scratching at the backs of his eyes. She would answer his questions, reveal her secrets, explain her melancholy, and then…he would assuage her sadness with his lips and fingers, lose himself in her heat…

 

Sesshomaru quickened his pace as irritation sputtered weakly in the storm that had blown in with the thought of her supple form beneath him, snug and slick around him. Questions and secrets could wait; he would not.