InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Damned If You Do, Damned If You Don't ❯ The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: Sad to say, but I did not arise on Christmas morning to find Inuyasha under the tree, wearing nothing but a big shiny bow. I guess this means thatRumiko Takahashistill ownshim.

 

 

Rated for later chapters. I always wanted to say that! Somewhere in the unforeseeable future, this fic will contain SplendentGoddess' back-at-ya triple-dog-dare. The subject of the dare will not appear until a later chapter that will be dedicated to her, so you'll know when it's coming. Eons ago (over the summer), I triple-dog-dared her to write something outrageous. *See Strapped by SplendentGoddess (if you're old enough and have a sense of humor, that is). However, I made the colossal error of forgetting to call “no backsies”. Not one of my brighter moments, I'll admit.

Originally posted 1/2/08

Fixed boo boos 2/3/08

 

Ch. 1: The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

 

“Why does he always argue with me about this? It's not even like I'm staying any length of time, just a few hours. I swear, if I didn't love him, I'd knock his block off,” an exhausted and annoyed young woman complained to herself as she fought to hoist her body and her backpack over the brim of the well. Struggling in this endeavor, Kagome swung her leg over the edge, and cursed a blue streak when her skinned knee was further abraded by the old wooden lip.

 

Fatigued and heavy-hearted over recent events, as well as bit nettled by Inuyasha's continual prodding, the girl moseyed along at a snail's pace out of the well house, worrying herself into a nice case of acid indigestion.

 

What am I gonna do? Naraku has possession of the jewel in its entirety and my craptastic miko powers are still locked away. Stupid, elusive spiritual powers! Apparently that ugly mofo, Magatsuhi, is the equivalent of miko kryptonite. I'm still not buying that he's solely responsible for the seal since, theoretically, it was placed at my birth. Kikyo, with her super-funky, almighty mikoness, should have been able to sense the seal at the very least, yet she couldn't even be bothered to warn me before she passed.

 

How disappointing. As much as Kagome didn't like to dwell on it, she had to at least consider the possibility that Kikyo had set her up. She'd thought they'd come to an understanding before Kikyo had passed on, and no matter how much she'd changed over time and through experience, Kagome still accepted people's words at face value.

 

Trudging along, the girl sighed. All she really wanted right now was a nice hot bath and an even hotter meal that consisted of anything other than ramen.

 

Sliding back the door to her childhood home, Kagome distractedly called out to her family while composing a mental checklist of items to pick up from the market. She was out of antibiotic ointment and low on band-aids, gauze and medical tape. Oh, and heaven forbid I forget the ramen. That would just be the end of the world as we know it.

 

She only had a precious few hours to accomplish all this since Inuyasha… pushy jerk… demanded that she return by sunset. Why sunset, she hadn't the foggiest idea. It was rare that they travelled after dark. In fact, they avoided it at all costs unless the situation called for it or they were in a particularly dangerous environment. It wasn't even the night of the new moon, so she was stumped over his stubborn insistence that she return before nightfall.

 

Hell, it wasn't as though she liked leaving him behind. She'd even invited him, but he was too edgy and didn't feel comfortable leaving the others vulnerable to attack. I can't blame him for that, but even he needs some time away from all the chaos. We're getting so close to the final showdown. I can practically taste it.

 

So instead of escalating the dispute into all-out sit-fest, she wearily gave in and went about her way. Besides, sitting the poor guy anymore just seemed tantamount to beating her head against a brick wall - absolutely pointless, and did more harm than good in most cases. She didn't have the energy to argue with the hanyou; it had been a trying month, and an even crummier week. A five gallon bucket of Häagen-Dazs was sounding pretty damn yummy right about now. When in doubt, pig out on comfort foods and thank the gods you've got an awesome metabolism. Alright, so the piles of hours spent walking are what really prevent me from turning into a blimp, she reluctantly admitted to herself.

 

Slipping out of her thoughts and out of her shoes, Kagome dragged her body off to the kitchen to be greeted by her mother and brother.

 

“Kagome! How are you, dear?” her dear, sweet, devil-may-care mother, Honoka chirped in her typical pleasant tone.

 

“Hiya, sis.” Souta's multi-pitched, pubescent voice sounded.

 

“Hi mom, Souta,” she replied, kissing Honoka's cheek. “I'm fine. It's just been a long week.”

 

“Well, maybe now that you're home, you can relax some.”

 

Kagome sighed the sigh that only a girl who'd had their soul sucked out, been in battles galore, nearly lost the person she loved on countless occasions, had almost been killed or turned into a mindless puppet a few times, all the while dodging her nosy friends and juggling high school could pull off. It was no small miracle that she'd graduated with fairly decent grades. “No, unfortunately I've got to go back by sundown or Inuyasha will finally give birth to that cow he's been carrying around for the last three and a half years.”

 

Souta snickered. Honoka shook her head, but chuckled a little while absently plucking a dandelion parachute from her daughter's bangs. “That's not very nice, dear. Hmm, perhaps you should take him some castor oil to help him with his little problem. I hear it can induce labor as well as relieve constipation.”

 

“Mom!” Kagome gasped. Thinking it over, she added, “Maybe you're right; I could kill two birds with one stone.”

 

“Gross!” Souta exclaimed. Somehow, he managed to produce a discordant melody of sounds just on the “o”.

 

“Alright, alright; go ahead and take a nice hot bath, Kagome. Dinner will be ready in about an hour.”

 

Giggling, she turned to head upstairs to the refuge of hot water and honeysuckle scented bath oil.

 

Roughly an hour later, a squeaky clean and fairly refreshed miko wandered downstairs only to be met with the sight and sound of her mother scurrying around the kitchen, pots and pans clanking as she quizzed Souta on his English vocabulary words. Souta was doing pretty well, only pausing every now and again to scan his memory banks for the correct Japanese translation.

 

Her mother continued her prep work, plucking a fresh squid from the packaging that the fishmonger down the street so carefully wrapped it in. The slippery little devil squirted right out of her hand. The frazzled mother juggled it like a hot potato momentarily before finally securing her hold on the reluctant cephalopod. “Ah ha! Get in the pan, you little bugger,” her mom crowed triumphantly, drawing an amused snort from Kagome, which consequently captured Honoka's attention.

 

“Oh, Kagome - there you are! Could you do me a huge favor? Between dinner and helping Souta study for his exam tomorrow, I'm a bit swamped at the moment. Would you take this over to Omatsu-san for me? Her husband is terribly ill, and I'm afraid she hasn't been taking care of herself,” she explained, handing Kagome a covered clay dish wrapped in a kitchen towel. “Be careful; it's hot. I'd ask your grandfather, but he's visiting Erido-san in the hospital. Everybody's sick these days, it seems,” she lamented as three more squids went flying in rapid succession.

 

The Higurashis were a family of unique talents. Squid tossing only scratched the surface. Souta's rousing kazoo rendition of the Japanese National Anthem was also quite the attention getter.

 

“Sure, I'll take it over. What's wrong with Omatsu-san?”

 

“Lung cancer, unfortunately. He worked with asbestos for years, poor dear. Ichiro insisted on going home, so they have a hospice nurse come over in the mornings until about three in the afternoon, but Akiko has no one else to help her. I suspect that he doesn't have much longer since the cancer, compounded with the heart disease he's suffered for several years, is weakening him tremendously.”

 

Chagrined at the news, Kagome nodded and turned to her task, vaguely recalling the nice old neighbor who'd once rescued her five year old self from the clutches of an enormous neighborhood dog that had gotten loose and chased her down the street. The dog was just trying to play with her, but little Kagome didn't know that, and the behemoth pooch was easily twice her size. Kagome had been a little escape artist then, and had given her parents the slip to go explore the great big world. She'd run into the dog about a half a block south, and promptly turned in the opposite directions, shrieking her little lungs out.

 

All those years ago, Omatsu Ichiro had been a robust man. As Kagome streaked toward him while he was trimming back the hedgerow bordering his property, he'd dropped his shears and snatched the little girl up into his arms. Kagome remembered the deep voice that commanded the playful dog to go home and cooed to her while he patted her back and carried her home to her father. That had only been a year before her father's untimely death.

 

Smiling a little sadly at the memories, Kagome carefully negotiated the long staircase leading off the shrine's grounds. The warmth of the dish permeated the towel it was wrapped in; she cautiously shifted it a little so as not to burn herself or take a flying nosedive down the mountain of stairs.

 

Noting the position of the sun, Kagome figured she only had a few hours left to eat with her family, do her shopping and pack before Mr. Personality worked himself up into a tantrum. She quickened her pace. On the bright side, Kagome was immensely grateful that she didn't have to cram in any more studying. She still had no idea how she'd made it through school. The last few years had seemed like such a whirlwind that it seemed like it was only yesterday that she'd fallen through the well for the first time. She still had trouble believing that so much time had flown by.

 

So much had happened in that time. She'd hit her final growth spurt between the ages of sixteen and eighteen, which had given her two more inches in height and an added cup size. What fun that had been to run around feudal Japan with achy legs and sore breasts, although it did entertain her to no end when she caught Inuyasha staring at her chest when he thought she wasn't looking. She wasn't sure if it was the fact that he'd noticed and obviously appreciated at least one of her physical attributes, the growing pains, the day to day drudgery of walk, eat, sleep, kill something, repeat, or all the trauma they'd endured as a result of Naraku's various Machiavellian schemes, but somewhere along the way she'd also managed to shed some of her youthful know-it-all brattiness.

 

Kagome knew she was far from the perfection that was Kikyo, but fuck it; who wanted to be perfect anyway? Oh, at one time she'd tried the bitter cynic's hat on for size, but found it to be an ugly color that made her an uglier person. If that was Inuyasha's idea of perfect, then he could find it elsewhere. Besides, it wasn't as if Kagome was one of those perpetually perky optimists who threw mental ticker-tape parades all the time, but if she didn't at least try to focus on the good things, then she might as well just give up because the future seemed pretty damn bleak no matter what the outcome.

 

She could die tomorrow at Naraku's or some other unscrupulous degenerate's hand. Naraku wasn't the only ne'er-do-well on the planet. Or she could live to see eighty as a lonely spinster, collecting weird glass tchotchkes and muttering nonsense tales of hanyous, monks, kitsunes, slayers and priestesses to her horde of cats because the one she loved either died or told her to get lost. Either way, it wasn't something she was looking forward to. All she could do was wait and see, hope for the best and fight as best she could, even though she was pretty much hamstrung.

 

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Several hours later, Kagome found herself trying to substitute her racing negative thoughts with inane ones and less hurtful memories as she fought a losing battle with insomnia. Calling up humorous recollections of a very remote, very primitive village about two days north that the group had once visited helped to somewhat ease her troubled mind. The occupants didn't get out much and hardly anybody ever dared tread near them for fear that their weirdness and backwards ways were contagious. It was like something out of those old Alfred Hitchcock movies her grandfather loved, and one of the very few western things he ever indulged in.

 

Last year the village sent a runner to Kaede for help with a little problem they were having as they did not have their own healer or miko. So, being the good Samaritans they were, minus Inuyasha's typical bitching and moaning, they accompanied Kaede to the village. Turns out the problem had less to do with youkai, and more to do with an infestation of lice and a case of crabs that had been making the rounds. Oh, she was fairly certain a few of those inbreeders had much worse than crabs and lice. Carousing with cousins was apparently the norm in that place. One of the women actually begged Miroku to sire her child. Miroku refused. No one was sure whether they were supposed to feel surprised by that or not.

 

He would have scored extra points with Sango had he not subsequently commented on his fear of catching something. The monk's standard waggishness was met not with a knock on the noggin from Hiraikotsu, but with a sad look and silent treatment that affected him far more deeply.

 

Kagome had once read an interesting article regarding the theory of “Mitochondrial Eve”, which posed that mitochondrial DNA can be traced back to a single source or `mother', if you will. Well, she was pretty sure everyone in that village could trace their lineage back to the headman's wife, Chiyoko's great (to the whateverith power) grandmother. That rather gargantuan left nostril afflicting about forty percent (rough guesstimate) of the villagers seemed to be a dead giveaway.

 

Kagome chuckled silently as the memory cleared. Scanning the room's other occupants, she found herself curious as to what they were dreaming about. They all appeared to be deep in slumber. However, experience taught her that they would be ready to go at the sound of a pin-drop.

 

Lastly, her eyes settled on Inuyasha. She was having a hell of a time trying to figure him out. All these years, and she was still no closer to unraveling his mystery. A few weeks ago, Kagome had suffered a relatively mild concussion in a sloppy battle with a rather neanderthallic youkai whose most distinguishing characteristic was a massive supraorbital ridge resembling one of the lintel slabs at Stonehenge. Knocked aside from a glancing blow of the Hiraikotsu that had been sent off course courtesy of the youkai's surprising agility, the miko was extremely lucky to have only been clipped by one of the flat sides of the weapon rather than a sharp edge. The resulting wound was a messy split scalp behind and above her left ear. Fortunately, the giant boomerang had hit and ricocheted off the ground, absorbing most of the force that otherwise could have killed her.

 

For an hour afterward, the girl had floated in and out of consciousness, at times somewhat aware of her surroundings. At one point, she felt someone tenderly stroking her hair and pair of warm lips kiss her forehead. Tempted as she was to conclude that it was just Shippo worrying over her, her theory was blown when those same lips delicately brushed her own and a strand of hair too long to be the kit's fell into her face, tickling her nose. For a moment, she was alarmed that someone with long hair might have kidnapped her while the others were distracted by the pandemonium of battle, but irrefutable evidence that it was indeed Inuyasha came when one of her eyelids was gently lifted by the pad of a finger. All she could make out was a blurry blob of red and silver with two little points on top, but that was enough.

 

The whole next day, he ignored her except to periodically check her wound and pupils for any abnormal dilation. One minute he ran hotter than hell, the next he was colder than a Norwegian well-digger's behind. He could be quite the ass. A gorgeous ass, but an ass nonetheless. However, in all fairness, she hadn't been particularly encouraging since their falling out nearly two months ago. For the most part, she'd forgiven him, but she just couldn't seem to get it out of her mind. She knew he was truly sorry, but still…

 

Defying her brain's command to them to move, her eyes lingered on him the longest. He really is amazing to look at; a veritable feast for the female eye. He seemed to glow in what little ambient light that filtered into the hut. His silver hair and bright crimson clothing gleamed like a neon sign, yet she knew only too well that when he wished to remain unseen, Inuyasha could simply vanish into the night at will. She couldn't see much of his face for his downturned head and shaggy bangs, but his slow, even breathing told her he was sleeping peacefully. One of his ears was flopped over, canted on a funny angle. The other was doing what she called “the crazy ear dance”, twitching spasmodically.

 

Just as she was about to go over and stealthily molest the dancing ear, a tickle welled up in her gut, spreading into her chest. The tickling became a tugging sensation which seemed to suck all the air out of her lungs; her whole body heaved in a single convulsion. Then she was up and out the door, quiet as a mouse. Not so much as a squeak left her lips, no matter how hard she tried to catch someone's attention.

 

Her legs zombied her over the path and into the forest at a gamboling pace toward the sacred grounds that would one day support the shrine her family tended. The smaller version that existed in this era occupied only about a quarter of that space and was set back further from the Goshinboku. Between the sacred tree and the shrine, the forest thinned out into a bamboo grove that didn't make it to her time. Pity too, for she dearly loved that grove. It was a nice place to escape everyone and think in private for a little while, especially when everyone was poking their noses in places they didn't belong. Half the time she felt as though she needed to submit a written proposal just to go relieve her kidneys without interference. Part of the reason she escaped to that little grove was that no one else cared much for it. Miroku said it had queer feeling to it. For odd some reason, it spooked the daylights out of Shippo and he emphatically refused to go anywhere near it. Sango could care less about it, much preferring open spaces in which to wield Hiraikotsu. Mostly, Inuyasha hung out in Goshinboku or just kept to himself, so she really didn't know his opinion on the matter.

 

Some of the bamboo culms grew densely, making it difficult to navigate in the dark. Luckily, she didn't have to worry about that as whoever was manipulating her body seemed to know the place like the back of their hand.

 

Her mind was spinning and frantically trying to determine who could be controlling her, why, and how they were doing it without a jewel shard. Strangely, whatever or whoever was moving her against her will (this time), didn't seem to carry any malicious objective. No, this one just seemed to want to cavort through the woods with a specific destination in mind, and obviously thought it was pretty funny to make her skip around like a buffoon in the process.

 

As that destination came into came into view, the situation defined itself… and her blood boiled. Situated on a small rise among some flourishing wild orchids was a petite shrine. The moment she hit the tree line, she felt her possessor's control purposely slip away and she marched right up to Kikyo's shrine/gravesite, looking like a raging bull with steam coming out its nose.

 

Halting about three steps away from the little shrine, she growled out, “You called?”

 

Silence stretched for several minutes. Quickly reaching the limits of her patience, Kagome began pace back and forth a few feet away from the small structure, eyes boring into it as if she could mentally set it ablaze. Still no answer.

 

“Oh, come on! Aren't you done toying with me? Spit it out already!”

 

Nothing…

 

She could have sworn there was a lone harmonica somewhere in the back of her head, playing to the mournful tune of The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly. Except, in reality, Kagome was a far cry from a kick-ass gunslinger gearing up for a Mexican standoff at Sad Hill Cemetery, and Kikyo was already dead as a doorpost.

 

Deciding to take a different tack, Kagome plopped down on the grass, determined to wait her out. Perhaps this isn't the wisest course of action considering she's dead and has all the time in the world. “I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your shrine in,” she idly threatened, getting a little bored and more than a little annoyed.

 

Eventually, red-hot anger simmered inside her, replacing the boredom. She stood and resumed her pacing. Egad, if anyone ever saw me pacing like a stark raving lunatic, making hollow threats at a shrine, I'd probably have to agree with them that I'm bonkers rather than try to explain the situation. Maybe I do need to go away for a little rest. Maybe Jinenji's discovered the herb that valium is derived from.

 

“You knew all along, didn't you, Kikyo?” she queried, kneeling before the miko's resting place. “I thought we had an understanding, but you knew my energy was under lock and key and never said anything. Why? Were you trying to humiliate me one more time? Or were you hoping I'd get myself killed? Or maybe it's just one more thing to lord over me? I tried to treat you with kindness, yet you snubbed me at every turn… Answer me damn you!”

 

Kagome knew the volume of her voice was ratcheting upward and struggled to maintain control before she drew every bandit and demon this side of Kyoto to her location. That simply wouldn't do. Frowning in exasperation, Kagome sighed. “Come on out of there or I swear I'll find the stinkiest incense imaginable and burn it in front of your shrine every day for the duration of my natural life.”

 

She really wasn't expecting it to work since it was an impracticable threat more borne out of irritation than anything else. But apparently that was the kicker.

 

A weaving white mist slowly formed, snaking its way out of the shrine. It curled and began to take the shape of a colorless, translucent hand. If I had any sense at all, I'd run like the wind. Instead, she sat transfixed to the spot as the grasping hand shot out of the shrine's façade, then sunk into her chest, viciously yanking her soul from her body. A split second of disconnect akin to the sensation of falling swept through her, and her last thought before her body fell over into a vacant heap of soulless bone and flesh like a discarded snakeskin was… Thank heavens I had a bath and donned a fresh pair of underpants, `cause I pity the luckless schmuck who has the misfortune of discovering my lifeless body stretched out on my preincarnate's grave.

 

“Are you quite finished?”

 

Startled by the flat voice, Kagome blinked, finding herself eyeball to eyeball with the ghost of Kikyo.

 

 

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Firstly, I apologize for the slow start. I hope it didn't suck too badly. Setup always kicks my ass. I've got about a dozen or so half-written fics that are complete from middle to end, but no friggin' chapter 1 in sight. Chapter 3 has been done for months. I rewrote that bastard like five times. Chapter 4 is mostly complete, minus a little editing.

 

Secondly, let me say thank you from the bottom of my blood pumping organ to whoever you guys out there are who nominated Shinidama Choo Choo to the Inuyasha Fan Guild recently, and way back in August to the Feudal Association. Frankly, I'm flabbergasted, but was really jazzed about it and very much appreciate it. If I knew who you were, I'd thank you individually, but alas, I was being a lazy bum and didn't look it up in time.