InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Chichiue ❯ Several Years Later ( Chapter 2 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

As soon as the front door shut behind him, he pulled off the amulet, sighing as the transformation washed over him. His ears grew and slid back up to sit at the top of his skull, and his whole head tingled as his hair, eyes, and nose changed, returning to their natural forms. He grinned at the odd yet familiar sensation and shook out his long mane of white hair in much the same fashion as a dog.

“Tadaima!” he called as he set his bag down next to his shoes, his voice deep and rich with the last traces of adolescence nearly gone, yet also holding the slight gravely tone that gave evidence of his heritage.

The sound of movement came from up above, and then his mother came running down the stairs. She stopped short on the last step, her mouth dropping open and her eyes beginning to tear up. Then he turned to look at her, and the hope and joy that had flared up in her eyes died again. Instead she smiled quietly, her eyes slightly sad, as she stood on her tiptoes to hug him and say, “Okaerinasai, Inuri.”

Inuri smiled and hugged her back, wishing he could make her smile. He hated it when ‘Kaa-chan cried, especially when she thought he didn’t notice. She had mistaken him for his father again, he knew. The way her eyes lit up only when she thought of him, and the way her voice swelled with love when she told him stories of their younger days; he had learned to watch for these, for afterward always came the tears.

“You’re home early,” she noted as she pulled away. She glanced up at the clock; it was only 12:30.

He nodded. “Today was the last day of school, remember? They let us out at lunch.”

She blinked. “Oh… Right…” Baka! How could you forget about summer vacation? “Well, I’m glad you’re home,” she smiled and squeezed his hand before starting off toward the kitchen.

Inuri let out a long breath and began climbing up the stairs. When he reached his room – which used to belong to his uncle, who was now living in the city, working as a computer-game designer or something– he let out another long breath, feeling the stress of a long school year finally lift from his shoulders. Not bothering to turn the light on, he flopped down on his bed, content just to lie there and think of absolutely nothing.

Something on the far wall caught his eye. He rose and walked over to it, taking down the ancient katana from its stand.

It was old and rusted, probably in too poor condition to be of much use as a weapon. Most people would have tossed it aside, dismissing it as nothing more than a piece of junk, but Inuri held it with something akin to reverence.

It had belonged to his father. And, according to ‘Kaa-chan, it had belonged to his father before that. The Tetsusaiga, the Steel-cleaving Fang, she had called it. Father had left it with them, saying it would protect them. But it’s just a sword, he thought as he unsheathed it. He looked closely at the blade, itching for a good oiled cloth to clean it. can something so… old… be of any use? He scowled at the sword, then resheathed it and placed it back on the wall, shaking his head in frustration.

Just as he was getting comfortable on his bed again, his mother stuck her head in the door. “You know,” she said, her voice sounding suspiciously smug, “since you suddenly have so much free time, you can do some chores for me.” She grinned at him as he groaned and hauled himself off the bed, before cheerfully continuing on downstairs.

Inuri sneezed. For the tenth time. He may have only been a fourth dog demon, but his nose was still sensitive enough to be irritated by the clouds of dust that rose from the old books and scrolls. He had to clean out the shed every summer, but somehow the dust seemed to get thicker each year. He tried not to breathe in as he dusted another row of crackling, leather-bound volumes. Dang, Gramps… What the heck did you need all these books for..? The shed had been a kind of workshop for his great-grandfather – on his mother’s side, of course – who seemed to have been bent on having the world’s largest collection of old and useless books. Had he not passed away when Inuri was six, the collection would most likely have continued to grow and he would not have been allowed to so much as peek inside at what the old man was up to. But Grandfather had died, and his books and other priestly relics had been left in the dust.

Literally, Inuri snorted – then sneezed, as the sudden gust of air caused a cloud of dust to blow off of one book that sat open on the worktable. After Inuri finished his sneezing fit, he glanced at the book through watery eyes. It had always been there. No one ever touched it, save himself, and that was only to brush the dust from it once a year. He had never really paid it any mind… until now. There was something that drew his attention now. He skimmed over the ancient text with his eyes.

It was a spell. And not just any spell: it was a spell to reach a missing person. He recalled that his parents had done a lot of traveling together before he was born, before they were even married, and Grandfather had not liked it one bit. Huh…

A shaft of sunlight came in through the tiny, dust-covered window, catching his eye as it alighted on a dark-blue glass flask. He had never really noticed the bottle before, though somewhere in the back of his mind he knew it had always been there. His eyes widened as the other objects on the table slowly registered in his brain.

Clustered around the book were all the ingredients needed for the spell. Tiny bottles of various mythical-creature body-parts, incense, warding scrolls, small flasks of different oils and ointments, and an image of the missing person – in this case his mother. Then he saw something that seemed to have no place in the mystical shop: a small, white, stuffed dog.

He recognized it. He’d seen the dog in old photographs of his mother when she was very young, and Grandfather used to tell him stories of how she had refused to go anywhere without the beloved toy, whether it was to school, bed, or the toilet. He held the dog gently, aware of the years-old, yet still strong, scent of his mother on it. He glanced at the book again. The key ingredient, it said, was something that the missing person had been fond of, something they had kept close to themselves for extended periods of time. The book suggested articles of clothing, locks of hair, or …weapons.

Inuri set down the stuffed dog and strode purposefully out of the shed, an idea already forming in his mind.

Kagome knocked quietly on her son’s door. When no answer came, she pushed it open with one hand, her laundry basket held against her hip by the other. As she set out the pile of clean clothes on his bed, she became aware of how cold the room felt. Not really cold in temperature, but more like the absence of a familiar, warm aura. A thought suddenly occured to her, and she glanced over at the Tetsusaiga.

A blank wall stared back at her, decorated only with a few empty nails.

Kagome dropped the laundry basket and sprinted from the room. “Inuri!!”

He had followed the instructions perfectly. He was ready to begin. As he lit the incense, he began to chant the words in the book. He dropped the photo of a white-haired, dog-eared man, otherwise known as Inuyasha, his father, into the bowl of waiting oil. Sprinkling a little burning incense over it, the oil promptly caught fire, and the photo soon followed. He gripped Tetsusaiga as he came to the climax in the spell, his voice swelling almost to a yell as the wind began to pick up all around him. Inuri all but screamed the last word, the one that would bring the spell to action, and the circle of ingredients exploded in front of him.

At first it looked like a tiny dot of dust, or perhaps a small pebble, levitating in the air in front of him. But then the point of black light began to grow swiftly, the wind from it whipping at his hair and clothes. He stood and regarded the smoky black portal warily. Now that he had it open, he wasn’t sure what to do. Should he go through? Or…

“Inuri!” His mother was sprinting across the lawn to him, screaming at him, though her voice was barely audible over the howling winds of the portal. He stared at her for a moment, then turned back to the portal. Squaring his shoulders, he took a deep breath and leapt through.

“Inuri!!”

Edited & Reposted 9.4.05