InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ A Purity Short: The Fairy Tale ❯ Aislynn ( Chapter 11 )

~~Chapter Eleven~~

~Aislynn~

 

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:Edinburgh, Scotland, UK:

:Friday, March 3, 2062:

 

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Morio pushed the power button on the car stereo with a sigh, welcoming the sudden quiet as he glanced at the uncharacteristically quiet woman in the seat beside him. Biting her lower lip, she stared out the window at the passing landscape though it all seemed blurred in her eyes.

 

“We . . . don't have to do this,” he said, hating the slight hesitation in his voice, in his words.

 

Meara blinked and shot him an almost worried glance before letting her gaze dart out the window once more. “It's time,” she replied quietly. “I just wish . . .” Cutting herself off short, shaking her head quickly, she forced a smile that looked more like a grimace as she fingered the pink stuffed dog in her lap. “I think she'll like her,” Meara said, holding up the dog for his inspection.

 

Morio nodded and shrugged. “Yeah, well, it's the thought that counts, right?”

 

“Did you have to sew it up with black thread?” she asked with a pointedly raised eyebrow.

 

“Well, sure . . . why not? It's a reminder that she should look in that dog one day.”

 

Meara sighed and nodded absently. Morio had bought the stuffed dog for Aislynn's third birthday, and when he'd brought it home, she'd been confused. The seam was ripped down the stuffed animal's back, and it wasn't until Morio carefully pulled the rolled slip of paper out of the toy that she realized what he'd done. Writing down the address of his home back in Japan along with his cell phone number, he'd given Meara one last way to tell Aislynn how to find her. The simple action had brought tears to her eyes, and Morio hadn't been able to do anything but hold her as she cried.

 

But the time had come, hadn't it? Aislynn's birthday tomorrow, and Meara aimed to make it the best birthday the girl had ever had, no matter what. That Morio was with her just lent her that much more determination to see her task through. After all, who knew if Meara would be allowed to see her sister again? That idea . . . it terrified her, and yet she'd somehow known it would eventually come down to this, hadn't she? When she thought of her sister's sweet little face . . .

 

“Meara . . . we don't have to do this yet,” Morio murmured, reaching over to squeeze her icy fingers.

 

“We do,” she argued then shook her head. “It's time.”

 

She'd hoarded the last few months, dedicated to inscribing each and every memory into her brain while telling Aislynn time and again that she'd always be there with her, even if she couldn't come to see her every week.

 

Aislynn looked at her with those solemn gray eyes and gravely nodded. “Are you going away, Meawa?” she asked, her voice soft like the chime of bells.

 

“I . . . I don't know, Aislynn,” she replied with a wince, wishing that she could tell Aislynn that she wasn't yet knowing in her heart that the lie would be harsher than the truth. “I hope not.”

 

“I can go wif you!” Aislynn said suddenly, her eyes brightening as hope took over, as she scampered over to curl up on her side in the empty suitcase that Meara had opened to put her things in. “I'm little . . . I fit!”

 

“Sweetie . . . I'd never pack you into a suitcase,” Meara said, smiling as tears filled her eyes.

 

“But I can go,” she insisted. “Please?”

 

“Oh . . . you know, they'd miss you here.” She almost choked on the lie.

 

Aislynn's face contorted in a disappointed scowl. “Oka-a-a-ay,” she said . . .

 

“You know, I still can't fathom a father disowning his own child,” Morio said, breaking the stilted silence with a heavy sigh. “It's unnatural.”

 

Meara wished she could believe him. “After everything you've learned about Ian MacDonnough, you doubt he'd do that?” she challenged quietly.

 

Morio rubbed his forehead, readjusting his grip on the steering wheel in his other hand. “No . . . I don't,” he confessed. “I just . . . Kami, it's just wrong.”

 

“It's okay,” Meara said, touching his cheek with her folded knuckles. “I . . . I want to be with you. You're my future.”

 

“She'll always be welcome in our home,” he stated, reaching across his chest to capture her hand and kiss her fingers. “Always.”

 

“I know, but I . . .”

 

Morio snorted. “No buts. Always.”

 

Meara smiled, a trembling thing that surged in her heart and warmed her soul. Morio . . . how was it that he always knew just what to say to make her feel better? It was a gift; a talent . . . or maybe it was just because he loved her . . . “Always,” she breathed.

 

 

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“Are you going somewhere?” Meara asked as Ian MacDonnough stepped onto the wide stone porch, watching as one of the servants packed a suitcase into the trunk of the box-like vehicle.

 

Ian spared a moment to glance at his daughter before resuming his commanding stance. “I have a meeting in Venice,” he replied.

 

Meara shook her head, her chagrin clearly showing on her features. “But it's Aislynn's birthday,” she pointed out. “You can't leave her alone!”

 

That earned her a reproachful scowl, and Meara had to fight the urge to recoil. “You're here, are you not? She is not alone then, is she?”

 

“No, but—”

 

Ian's gaze flicked to the side, and she saw his eyes widen for a moment just before they narrowed suspiciously. “Who . . . is that?” he demanded without taking his gaze off the newcomer.

 

Meara didn't have to look to see the person in question. Clearing her throat, she mustered as much bravado as she could. “Father, this is Morio Izayoi . . . he's a friend of mine . . . a good friend.”

 

Ian grunted in response.

 

“It's an honor to meet you, Lord MacDonnough,” Morio greeted, bowing slightly in deference to Ian's stance.

 

“Izayoi,” Ian repeated thoughtfully. “Ah . . . kin of the hanyou of legend.”

 

Meara bristled at the hostile undertone in Ian's words.

 

“InuYasha is my grandfather,” Morio replied, giving no indication that he'd heard the derisive tone at all.

 

Ian shot Meara a narrow-eyed stare, and she forced herself not to look away. “I see.” Drawing a deep breath despite the suspicion writ in his gaze, Ian flicked his wrist, making a show of looking at his watch before straightening his shirt cuff and smoothing the arm of his navy blue jacket. “I shall be home Sunday,” he informed Meara as he brushed past her and descended the stairs.

 

Morio stepped back to allow Ian to pass, bowing slightly once more—a show of his impeccable manners. Meara had noticed that before. As much as Morio liked to tease and cajole, his manners, when it came right down to it, were beyond reproach—a trait doubtless taught to him by his mother.

 

Meara had liked Deidre Izayoi, though she hadn't been able to understand just why the woman tended to answer to `Nezumi', the Japanese word for `rat'. Morio had explained that it was something that stemmed from her childhood, growing up as the best friend of both Ryomaru, whom she had later married, and his twin brother, Kichiro. Meeting Morio's parents had been a daunting experience. Despite Morio's reassurances that they'd `love' her, she had been more than a little reluctant when she'd finally come face to face with them.

 

Nezumi had been very kind, a little on the reserved side though her smiles had seemed warm and genuine. It was easy to tell where Morio got his sweet disposition though Meara didn't doubt for a moment that Nezumi could very easily take them all to task if they deserved it.

 

Ryomaru had been a little more intimidating. Standing with his arms crossed over his chest that was just a little wider than Morio's though Morio stood a couple inches taller than his father, the scowl on his face was rather foreboding as he slowly and deliberately sized Meara up. She must have passed his criteria though, because he finally smiled—a wide, cheesy smile that reminded Meara of his son, and that, at least, had taken the edges of her nervousness. Shortly afterward, he'd started joking and teasing, and Meara had understood at last, just why Morio tended to be on the good-natured side. She'd found it quite interesting. Ryomaru could go from one extreme to another in a blink of an eye; making jokes one minute and blustering vile invectives another only to make an about-face with a goofy smile, normally directed at his mate while Nezumi rolled her eyes and shook her head, smiling despite her exasperation with her mate.

 

Meara sighed and caught an errant lock of hair, tucking it behind her ear as she watched her father get into the shining black car. The driver closed Ian's door before slipping behind the steering wheel. She watched as the car purred to life and slowly negotiated the winding driveway toward the stone walls.

 

“He . . . didn't seem . . . so bad . . .” Morio said, choosing his words carefully.

 

Meara snorted indelicately and shook her head. “I cannae believe he left on her birthday,” she complained, the lilt of her brogue rolling off her tongue, giving testimony to her quiet irritation.

 

“Why don't you show me where I can put this stuff?” he said, lifting the satchel in his hand and his notebook computer carrying case in the other.

 

Meara blinked and frowned at the items as though she'd forgotten that he was standing right there. “Oh . . . right . . .”

 

She turned on her heel, absently noting that the front door opened before she could reach for the handle, leading Morio past the butler without a word. Through the foyer and up the wide staircase, down the hallway toward the wing of the house that was reserved for guests, she finally stopped before a thick oak door and pushed it open before stepping back and gesturing inside. “Welcome to Nightsboro,” she muttered, looking anything but happy about the current situation.

 

Morio shot her an encouraging smile and stepped inside, striding over to deposit the luggage on the imposing four poster bed on the raised dais in the center of the room before wandering over to step out onto the balcony that overlooked the garden below. Meara slowly followed him. “The birthday girl, I take it?”

 

Meara followed the direction of his gaze and smiled despite her irritated thoughts. “Yes . . . that's Aislynn.”

 

He smiled as he watched the girl dart here and there as she gathered a few early season flowers from the different raised beds. “A girl after my own heart,” he teased. “I thought you said she always waits for you outside.”

 

Meara's smile turned a little sad. “She does . . . we're early though . . . she probably wasn't expecting us until this afternoon . . .” Turning to him with a sudden glint in her eyes, she grabbed his hand and tugged him back toward the bedroom. “Come on! I want you to meet her!”

 

Morio chuckled. “Why don't you go on out there? I promised Cromwell I'd call him before noon,” he said.

 

Meara nodded and kissed his cheek before hurrying out of the room. Though Morio was still in his final months of grad school, he was already trying to network a little in the hopes that he could land a good job after graduation in early June. William Cromwell was the personnel manager at Arisat Motors, one of the premier car manufacturers in Europe, and Morio had impressed the man enough to get his phone number after a presentation Morio had given at the university. With any luck at all, he'd be able to land a job with the company, or so they hoped.

 

It didn't take long for Meara to negotiate the maze of corridors in the old castle. At one point, she supposed that the bulk of the main level had been one great hall, but over the years, it had been partitioned off into smaller rooms to satisfy the needs of the MacDonnough family. The place had belonged to their clan for hundreds of years.

 

Stepping outside into the early spring sunshine, Meara laughed when Aislynn whipped around, dropping the armload of flowers she held and dashing over to hug her sister's leg. “Meawa!” she exclaimed, her face aglow in her excitement.

 

“How's my girl?” Meara asked, picking Aislynn up and giving her a squeeze before kissing her cheek soundly.

 

“It's not my birthday yet,” she said with a doleful sigh.

 

Meara laughed again. “Well, no, but soon,” she assured the little girl, “and I have a surprise for you!”

 

“A present?”

 

“Yes . . . and a new friend for you to meet.”

 

“A friend?” she echoed, cheeks pinking in anticipation and perhaps a little bashfulness, too.

 

“But you can't have your birthday presents until tomorrow.”

 

Aislynn's expression shifted into a moue, and she waited a moment before asking, “Is it tomorrow now?”

 

Meara giggled. “No, silly . . . after you got to sleep and wake up . . . that'll be tomorrow.”

 

Aislynn nodded despite the frown furrowing her brow. Meara set her back on her feet, and Aislynn ran off again, chasing a bird that swooped down from the small thicket of trees near the back of the gardens.

 

“I could have gotten lost in there,” Morio grumbled behind her.

 

Meara turned and smiled at him as he stepped outside and shook his head. “This place . . . no wonder you didn't spend much time with your parents. How could they find you in that bloody maze?” he complained.

 

Meara grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the grass. “Did you get a hold of Mr. Cromwell?”

 

“Nope . . . left a message with his secretary, though. She said he'd be in meetings most of the day.”

 

“His loss, then,” Meara stated. “Now you're mine.”

 

“I'm yours,” he agreed amicably enough.

 

“Aislynn!”

 

The girl in question stopped abruptly and turned around, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Her smile disappeared when she spotted Morio, and she darted over, ducking behind Meara's skirts, clutching the material as she buried her face in the copious folds of material.

 

Meara laughed as Morio knelt down, one hand on his bent knee, the other resting in the grass beside him. “Hi, Aislynn . . . it's an honor to meet you.”

 

Aislynn tugged on Meara's skirt. “Hmm?” she asked, peering over her shoulder with a gentle smile as Aislynn leaned away just enough to see Meara's face.

 

“He's got the doggy ears,” Aislynn whispered.

 

Morio chuckled. “So I do . . . you want to touch them?”

 

Aislynn shook her head, burying her face once more, much to Meara's amusement. “Come on, sweetie . . . he won't bite—and if he does, I'll protect you.”

 

Aislynn giggled but didn't show her face again.

 

“They're really soft,” Meara remarked, leaning forward and rubbing one of Morio's ears.

 

He winked at her. “Ears should be soft . . . other things? Not so much . . .”

 

“Morio!” she chided, shaking her head despite the smile on her face. “You behave.”

 

His reply was an unrepentant grin that shifted into a light chuckle when a small hand reached around Meara's legs, fingers opening and closing as though Aislynn were trying to grab at something. “Oh, you want to feel my ears?” he asked.

 

Meara giggled when Aislynn nodded but didn't speak. “I think she does.”

 

Morio nodded, leaning forward far enough to let his left ear brush against Aislynn's fingertips. The touch must have tickled, because he flinched seconds before his ear twitched. Aislynn shrieked and jerked her hand back, the sound of her childish giggles muffled by Meara's skirt.

 

“Oh, I'm sorry,” Morio apologized. “I swear I won't move this time.”

 

Aislynn shook her head again but slowly reached out, latching onto Morio's ear this time, and he grimaced when her fingers pinched a little too hard.

 

“Aislynn . . . be easy . . . those are his ears, after all . . .”

 

The girl's grip loosened just a little, and she peered around Meara's legs.

 

Morio smiled, staying perfectly still, and when he spotted Aislynn's rapt attention, he smiled. “Hi.”

 

Aislynn squealed, jerking her hand back and darting behind the cover of her sister's skirt once more.

 

Morio grimaced as he slowly pushed himself to his feet. “I don't think she likes me,” he mused.

 

“She's shy,” Meara said.

 

Morio chuckled. “Well, there's one sure-fire way to get her to warm up to me,” he drawled.

 

“And what would that be?”

 

He shrugged. “You'll see.”

 

She watched as he turned, stuffing his hands into his pockets and striding away.

 

Aislynn peeked around Meara's legs, watching Morio's slow retreat before tugging on Meara's skirt. “Meawa?”

 

Meara didn't look at Aislynn, smiling just a little as she watched Morio's easy gait. “Hmm?”

 

Aislynn giggled. “I'm gonna marry him,” she whispered.

 

Meara blinked and glanced at her sister as a surge of laughter spilled out. “Really.”

 

Aislynn nodded, her chubby little cheeks glowing with a rosy blush. “Yeah.”

 

“Well, if that's the case, don't you think you should talk to him instead of hiding from him?”

 

Aislynn's face scrunched up in a thoughtful frown, and she shrugged. “I can talk to him . . .” she finally decided.

 

“Can you?”

 

She nodded. “I can!”

 

Morio re-emerged from the side of the mansion with a pink blob in his hands. Meara smiled. `Bribery, huh . . .? Well, it might work . . .'

 

Aislynn tugged Meara's hand. “Is that for me?” she asked, waving one hand toward the stuffed dog in Morio's grasp just before she shoved her fingers back into her mouth—a nervous habit, and one that tended to annoy Ian MacDonnough to the extreme.

 

Meara smiled down at her sister. “I don't know, sweetie . . . why don't you run over there and ask him?”

 

She didn't look like she was going to do it. Biting her lip, she seemed to be considering her options. With a soft giggle, she finally let go of Meara's skirt and darted away to intercept Morio and ask him about the stuffed animal, she supposed.

 

Meara couldn't help the little smile that trembled on her lips. To see the two of them together—the two people she loved most in the world . . . It made her feel like everything really might be all right in the end . . .

 

 

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“What's that?”

 

Morio spared a moment to glance at the child as Aislynn leaned over his shoulder and pointed at the laptop computer on the floor beside him. “I'm working on a project,” he told her, holding up the notebook on his lap for her to see.

 

“You write funny,” she said as she stared at the scrawled notes.

 

Morio chuckled. “You think so? It's called Kanji . . . it's writing from where I was born and grew up.”

 

“You were born in Kanji?” Aislynn asked, her gray eyes darkening as she tried to understand what he was saying.

 

Morio's chuckle escalated into a soft laugh. “No . . . I was born in Japan . . . this was how I was taught to write.”

 

“I can write my letters!” Aislynn announced proudly. “Meawa taught me.”

 

“Yeah? You want to show me?”

 

She shook her head. “It's night time, Rover! No one writes at night time!”

 

Morio snorted, more from the name that the girl insisted on using for him than because of her assertion that writing was something that was only done during daylight hours. For some reason, she couldn't seem to say `Morio' and since he had `doggy' ears, she'd decided that his name was `Rover'—interestingly enough, the same name she'd bestowed on the little pink stuffed dog . . . and Meara, of course, thought that was a riot. `Go figure . . .'

 

“Why you gots white hair?” Aislynn asked suddenly, lifting a handful of his hair and letting it slip through her fingers.

 

“I don't know . . . lots of people in my family have this color hair.”

 

She scrambled off the bed where she'd been lying behind Morio and darted out of the room just as Meara rounded the corner with a tray of cocoa and pretzels. “Oh, Aislynn!” she said, barely reacting in time to lift the tray to avoid colliding with the girl.

 

Aislynn tore down the hallway and into her room. Morio could hear the door bang open with a resounding `thud'.

 

“What was that all about?” Meara asked, lifting an eyebrow as she slowly shook her head.

 

“No idea . . . she was playing with my hair, then she took off . . .”

 

Meara nodded, setting the tray aside and handing Morio a steaming mug. “She's quite smitten with you, I think.”

 

Morio chuckled, lifting the mug to his lips as he added to his notes and set the tablet aside with a heavy sigh. “She's something.”

 

Giggling softly, Meara sat down on the floor and scooted close to Morio's side. “She told me that she's going to marry you one day,” she pointed out, the devil dancing in her gaze.

 

“Oh, yeah? Well . . . that might be tricky since I'm planning on marrying you . . . maybe there's a loophole in the mating law somewhere . . . you think sisters count as a two-for?”

 

“You're terrible,” Meara chided.

 

Morio grinned. “I don't know . . . she is awfully cute.”

 

“Of course she is!”

 

The soft patter of bare feet on the stone floor announced Aislynn's return. She held her brush and comb clutched in one hand and a wooden box that looked completely suspect in her other one. Morio eyed her as she climbed back onto the bed and set the box aside, dropping the comb before carefully brushing Morio's hair with a frown of concentration on her brow.

 

“What are you doing, Aislynn?” Meara asked as she crawled over to retrieve the last mug of cocoa off the tray.

 

“I'm making Rover pretty,” she announced.

 

Morio cocked an eyebrow but took up his laptop to work on the presentation again.

 

Meara laughed. “Are you now?”

 

Aislynn nodded once. “Yes!”

 

Morio tried his best to ignore the ministrations, intent on completing the project since he was due to give the presentation Monday. He'd been assigned the task of mocking up a hydro-electric hybrid car that ran chiefly on a water-soluble mineral solution. The challenge wasn't so much in designing the car. The real problem was keeping an engine cooled enough to prevent evaporation and thus mineral deposit build up . . .

 

“Do you like blue or red?” Aislynn asked suddenly.

 

“Hmm? Oh . . . blue's fine,” Morio said, only paying half attention.

 

“I like blue,” she ventured cautiously.

 

He chuckled, reaching over his shoulder to squeeze her little hand gently. She laughed and jerked her hand back before dissolving into a fit of giggles. “You like pink, too?” she asked after her laughter died down.

 

“Pink's pretty, but blue's better,” Morio replied, biting his lip as he considered the project open before him on the laptop computer's monitor.

 

Aislynn fell silent again, and judging from the slight tugs on his hair, he could tell that she really was working on making him `pretty'.

 

“Now don't you look sweet?” Meara teased, obviously enjoying the results of Aislynn's efforts.

 

“Do I?” Morio asked, sparing a sidelong glance out of the corner of his eye.

 

Meara nodded, digging into her purse for the mother-of-pearl compact she carried. Snapping it open, she handed it to him, and Morio sighed at the pale blue ribbon tied around a central tuft of hair drawn up between his ears. “Oh, yep . . . I'm . . . pretty,” he stated.

 

Aislynn giggled and gently tugged on his hair. “I'm braiding hair,” she announced.

 

Morio sighed and shook his head but didn't try to stop the child.

 

“It's almost time for bed,” Meara said, leaning back to look at her sister.

 

Aislynn nodded. “Okay! And when I wake up, it'll be my birthday!”

 

“Yes, it will . . . now why don't you run along and get your nightgown on?”

 

Aislynn snapped the box closed and scooted off the bed, gathering up her things before wagging a plump little finger under Morio's nose. “Don't take your hair down, Rover!” she demanded.

 

Morio grinned. “All right,” he allowed. “You'd better go get ready for bed.”

 

She skipped out of the room, and Morio chuckled. “Cute little thing, isn't she?” he commented.

 

Meara smiled and leaned on his shoulder. “She is . . . and she loves that dog you gave her. I can't believe how fast she's warmed up to you.”

 

Morio's grin widened. “Of course she did! It was the power of bribery . . . she couldn't resist once I'd offered her the stuffed animal . . . Besides, she couldn't be my mate if she couldn't stand to talk to me, don't you think?”

 

Meara gathered up the cocoa cups and set them on the tray. “I'm going to take these downstairs then get ready for bed, myself,” she informed him.

 

Morio nodded as Meara hurried out of the room.

 

Aislynn wandered in once more with the stuffed dog in her arms, her toes peeking out from beneath the wide ruffed hem of the white nightgown that reminded Morio of the old fashioned ones he'd seen in paintings and pictures. `Victorian,' he mused with a small grin.

 

Kneeling on the floor near him, Aislynn closed her fingers over the ruffle at her wrist and scrunched up her shoulders. Slowly creeping toward him, she glanced almost nervously at the faint click of the computer keyboard echoed through the room. Little by little, she crawled into his lap, always looking like she could retreat at any time. Morio shifted the computer aside and used the cordless laser mouse to scroll to the top of his presentation so he could proofread it. When he looked down a few minutes later, he smiled.

 

She was sleeping against his chest.

 

 

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A/N:

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Final Thought fromMorio:

Sleeping on me? Heh …

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Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in Fairy Tale): 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.

 

~Sue~