InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Road Goes Ever On ❯ Prologue ( Prologue )

“Your lost aren’t you Okesa?” growled Kumamaru, glaring down at his companion. Okesa had spent the last several minutes pacing around the clearing in which they stood, climbing trees, checking the position of the sun, and generally trying to orient himself, but his pride would never allow him to admit this to his burly compatriot.
”Lost,” Okesa huffed, indignantly, “you must be kidding me. I posses a peerless sense of direction”

“Oh,” Kumamaru returned simply, “well could you hurry it up, this guy is beginning to feel heavy.” As he said this, Kumamaru jerked his thumb toward the bulky sack which he carried on one of his shoulders. The string which bound the sack shut was slightly loose and the tip of a fluffy red tail protruded from the small opening.

“I think we will pass the remainder of the afternoon here,” Okesa sighed, “I absolutely detest traveling in this garish heat. This forest is dense and traversing it will be a taxing ordeal. We would both benefit from rest before we sought to venture into its heart.”

Kumamaru smiled broadly, “Time for a Cat Nap?” he asked, laughing at his own joke.

Okesa, a hanyo of cat demon pedigree, had been forced to suffer “clever” jibes about his felineness since childhood. He was just as tolerant of them now as he had been then–that is to say, not at all. Okessa’s orange furred cat ears flattened against his short cinnamon hued hair which stood on end as he whirled about, teeth bared, to confront his jocular cohort.

“I don’t take kindly to jokes about my heritage,” Okesa hissed, his voice dripping with malice.

Kumamaru looked down at him and met his gaze. The large man stared into Okesa’s amber eyes, noting with mild astonishment that the pupils were tiny vertical slits.

“Cat eyes,” he murmured inaudibly, and then he threw his head back and laughed.

This was not the response Okesa had hoped for. The rolling boisterous laughter continued unabated and Okesa’s astonishment turned quickly into a murderous rage, but the hanyou restrained his ire. Kumamaru was one of those individuals whose immense stature permitted them to laugh at almost anything. Standing just over eight feet tall and built like a mountain. The circumference of his arms was greater than that of most people’s thighs. His legs were like tree trunks. His voice sounded like the roll of thunder or war drums. He too was a hanyo, though he was of bearish ancestry, but aside from his immense size his parentage was only obviated by the thick, wiry, black hair that covered much of his body. The two large cleaver-like knives served to further augment the aura of menace that surrounded the bear-man. In short, Kumamaru was no the kind of guy people got mad at… not openly anyway. Realizing this, Okesa calmed himself and spoke again, this time in a much more level tone, “My dear companion, why not relieve yourself of your burden? Kindly, put the prisoner down and take him out of that bag. I doubt even he is cunning enough to escape in the condition he is in.”

Kumamaru’s laughter died down and he shrugged the large sack of his shoulder. It landed with a thud and the creature inside groaned. Then Kumamaru obediently upended the sack sending the half awake being with tumbling out. Okesa peered down at the semi-conscious figure. First checking his bindings to make sure they were secure and then studying the prisoner’s features hoping that this might help him in the event that the bound half-kitsune should attempted to deceive him with magical illusions. The prisoner had bright red hair, pointed ears, short claws, a long bushy tail. His features were otherwise fairly nondescript, he was handsome enough to facilitate social interaction, but not so much that he stood out. Indeed, were it not for those three vulpine traits, a product of his half human/ half demonic lineage, one would be hard-pressed to describe him at all. Okesa stooped down and slapped the bound hanyou lightly.

“I’m terribly sorry to disturb your nap,” he said in a tone of exaggerated politeness, “but if it pleases you, sir, I have some questions I would like to put to you.”

***

It was a cool spring evening. The sun had begin to sink in the western sky and the world was bathed in orange light. Kids, who had only a few minutes earlier been horse playing on the vast stretches of lawn that were scattered throughout the village, were now plodding reluctantly homewards, urged forward every so often by cries from their respective parents. Shopkeepers locked up their stores for the night and street vendors packed up their wagons and began to wheel them homewards. In the middle of the town, just off of the center square, the town’s only restaurant was opening for business. The restaurant’s proprietor was a short, balding old man, with shiny red flesh, a congenial face, and a kind of bulbous nose. The restaurateur was not as young as he once was, and opening the restaurant took far longer than it used to, doubly so on the nights where he didn’t have help. Tonight would be one such night. So, in the late afternoon, when the children were heading home, he would polish the tables, clean the floor, prepare the kitchen, give the cups, trays and bowls a last cursory cleaning, and, finally, open the doors to admit his costumers. The town was a small one and there were rarely any visitors. Nonetheless, the old man maintained a few rooms which he hired out to the occasional traveler that passed through. Naturally the man was shocked when he slid open the door to find not one but five travelers making their way down the town’s main road. The old man squinted his failing eyes, struggling to see the travelers in the distance. The two female members of the group turned off the road towards the towns Sento bathhouse. One of the men, a purple robed monk carrying a staff said turned to follow them and something to one of the woman. The old man chuckled a bit as he saw the purple robed figure stager from the sharp blow that he had been dealt by the woman he had spoken to. Then the three remaining companions turned towards the restaurant. The owner grabbed a broom and tried to look busy. A few moments later he was greeted by the same purple clad monk he had seen from the distance.

“Hello, sir” said the monk courteously, “Me and my companions were hoping for a meal and perhaps a place to stay tonight.”

The restaurateur just stared. While he had not been able too see the other two travelers from a distance, he saw them quite clearly now. The first was a tall silver haired half-demon with two ears poking out from the and the other was a tiny kitsune, who the restaurant owner guessed was little more than a child.

“Those are demons,” he said, his draw slack with surprise.

“Don’t worry, sir,” he said, “they are perfectly safe. You have my word.”

“Well,” the old man replied cautiously, “If you say so then your welcome to dine here.”

“My name is Miroku”, the monk said charmingly and turned towards his companions, “This is Inuyasha, and this is Shippo.”

“C’mon lets eat,” growled Inuyasha as he was introduced.

A smile spread across Inuyasha’s face as he eagerly entered the restaurant. The old man entered the kitchen and returned a while later bearing small wooden trays of food, bowls of warm soup. After distributing the food to his guests and seating himself on the tatami floor on the opposite side of the table from them, he began to speak.

“So your Inuyasha?” he asked.

The hanyou looked up from his soup for a moment before replying, “Yeah, why?”

“Well there was an imposter here a few days ago claiming to be you,” the owner said, leaning forward as if he were relating a great secret, “he caused quite a scene. It was as if he was trying to stir up trouble. His deception was the talk of the town for days after he left.”

Inuyasha’s eyes widened with anger, but before he could say anything his purple robed companion spoke up, “How did you discover this man wasn’t who he claimed he was.”

“Oh we didn’t,” the old man said, “A few hours after he came two other people showed up. One of them was a hanyou who looked like he was part cat demon, but the other, I don’t know if he was a demon or not, but he was the biggest man I’ve ever seen.”
Here the restaurateur paused, sipping his soup and allowing this information to sink in before continuing, “It turns out the imposter was some kind of kitsune half-breed, he had been pulling this act all over the area.”

“A kitsune?” asked the small fox-boy, speaking for the first time.

“Yes, boy,” the owner responded, “but not a child like you. This one was an adult.”

The fox-boy narrowed his eyes angrily.

“Anyway,” said the old man, “It seems like the two of them were the retainers of a noble of some sort. They kept telling the imposter how he had betrayed their lady and how he had been responsible for the death of their lord. I don’t really know anything else, they grabbed the hanyou and left town quite quickly. They didn’t even bother to pay their bill.” This old man added this last part with a frown.

“Very interesting,” said the monk.

“Interesting!” exclaimed Inuyasha, “If I ever see that little punk I’ll--”

“Shall I show you to your rooms,” said the proprietor of the restaurant, tactfully interrupting the violent oath that would have inevitably followed.

“Yes,” said the monk, “I believe we ought to get a bit of rest. We are expecting two ladies to join us. When they arrive kindly direct them to my room.”

“When they arrive I will ensure that they receive the finest accommodations we have to offer,” the old man responded evenly.





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