InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Delving Into The Mysteries Of The Past ❯ The Present Continues ( Chapter 10 )

 

“I'm setting up an appointment for you to see Dr. Iwata,” Mitsu said to me, when he came back home, sometime around ten. I sat stony-faced away from him, pretending to be absorbed in studying the wall across from me. “I think you need to be put back on medication.” I laughed.

 

“The only medication I ever took was anti-depressants. I'm not crazy,” I said. How did my life get like this? Everything had been going fine up until a week ago. Now it was like my life was like some kind of bad movie, where everything went wrong.

 

“Mom, Ana-chan is crying again,” Samisu timidly said, looking at me from behind the door. It broke my heart to see him hiding from us, like his only chance of escape was to keep himself barricaded behind wood.

 

“She'll stop soon,” Mitsu snapped. “Go back to bed. It's late.”

 

“But-”

 

“No buts! Bed! Now!” Mitsu got up and slammed the door. I cringed at Samisu's squeak of alarm and heard him run back upstairs.

 

“What's the matter with you?!” I asked. “You're the one who needs medication!”

 

“After putting up with you for four years, I think anybody would!” he snarled, before clamping a hand over his mouth. I stared at him, open-mouthed in shock.

 

“Ana and Sami are both crying now and they won't listen to me,” Horeshio said from the doorway, breaking the horrified silence between Mitsu and me. He wasn't using the door as a barricade. He stood in front of it, crossing his arms over his chest, waiting for one of us to make the first move. “And Ana's face is bruised.”

 

“One minute. I'll be right there,” I said, getting up.

 

“Wait,” Mitsu said, catching my arm.

 

“It's okay. Just forget about it,” I said, pushing his hand away. “It's all in the past, right? And what happens in the past stays in the past,” I said, hoping that my voice didn't have a sarcastic ring to it. Mitsu stayed in the room while I followed Horeshio to Ana and Sami's room. I comforted Ana-chan first; she was the one who was crying the loudest.

 

“Mommy!” she sobbed, throwing herself into my arms.

 

“It's okay, it's okay,” I whispered, gently rocking her back and forth. “Everything will be all right.” I gently pushed her hair away from her face. Sure enough, there was a bruise across her cheek, dark and painful looking. And the funeral was in a week. I couldn't bring her in looking like that. People would think that she was being abused.

 

“Is she going to be okay?” Sami-chan asked, venturing into the room.

 

“She's fine. I think it's just shock,” I said, reaching out to pull him into a hug as well. For several minutes we stood there, holding onto each other as if never to let go. Ana-chan went limp in my arms, and I realized she had fallen asleep. I gently set her back down in bed and carried Sami-chan to his, in which he fell asleep very quickly. I turned to see Horeshio looking at me.

 

“Are you okay?” he asked. I smiled and nodded.

 

“ A little tired,” I replied. “At dinner, what did Mitsu say that made you so upset?” That question had been nagging me for a while now, and I had to ask it. Horeshio's eyes darkened until they were almost black.

 

“Nothing,” he lied.

 

“Don't lie to me, Horeshio.” He was quiet for minute.

 

“He said Aunt Kikyo always was the prettier one,” he said finally, eyes downcast. I stared over his head and off into space. “You're not mad at me, right?” he asked suddenly.

 

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “It's got nothing to do with you. Go to bed now or you'll be tired in the morning.” I walked back downstairs. I couldn't describe my feelings at the moment. It wasn't one feeling. It was more like twenty of them, all jumbled together into one big mess. I tried to sort through them. There was anger, of course, and jealousy, and resentment. What surprised me most was that I also felt sadness. Sadness in the fact that even my own husband compared me to Kikyo. Suppressed childhood emotions welled up inside of me, and for minute I couldn't breathe. Memories rushed past my face.

 

I was two and Kikyo was five. We were fighting over the prize that came in the cereal box at breakfast.

 

My first archery lesson. I couldn't hit the target. Kikyo shot a bull's eye every time.

 

Father had just died. I was crying under the Go-Shinboku. Kikyo was yelling at me to stop and get a grip, to move on.

 

In the hospital, after I had just woken up. Kikyo was glaring at me while the doctor said I was pregnant.

 

At my wedding. She was telling me how lucky I was to find someone willing to accept Horeshio.

 

I put a hand to my head. I felt the beginning of a migraine coming on. I took a quick detour back up the stairs to the bathroom, hunting about the medicine cabinet for an Advil. I took a look at myself in the mirror. My hair was disheveled, my face was pale, and I had dark circles under my eyes. Anybody would look prettier than me at the moment. I groaned and shuffled back into the hallway. Another memory hit me, this one fuzzy and unclear, as if I were looking at it through a cloudy window.

 

“Kikyo,” I moaned, holding my head in my hands. “What have I done?!” Sobs racked my body.

 

“I think you know what you did,” she replied coldly, which only made me sob harder. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

 

“I didn't mean to,” I whispered.

 

“You can't protect the Shikon No Tama anymore,” she said bluntly. “The jewel needs to be free of taint. Your body's tainted. You'll still have your powers, don't fret over that.”

 

“I didn't know,” I said meekly.

 

“You didn't know what?” she asked maliciously. “That you couldn't protect the jewel anymore. Or that he killed our father?” I cried harder still. “That was very smart Kagome,” she continued, oblivious to my growing frenzy. “How does it feel to know that you slept with our father's murderer?” The last bit of sanity that I held on to broke, and I bolted from the room and out into the night.

 

I hadn't realized I had reached the stairs until I missed the first step and fell, meeting the floor with bloody force. The sounding crash caused Mitsu to rush out of the bedroom to help me. I sat up, tasting blood.

 

“What happened?!” he asked. I only shook my head, sucking on my lip to stop the bleeding.

 

“I'm fine,” I managed to say. My lip was stinging. “It's only a small cut. It'll be fine by tomorrow.

 

“I'll get ice,” he said, going into the kitchen to find an ice pack. His worry and concern caused me to forget that I was mad at him, and all thoughts of Kikyo except for the one that caused me to fall down the stairs were driven from mind.

 

Kikyo knew who Horeshio's father was. She said I slept with our father's murderer. I froze. Our father's murder was Kai…Kaikatsu…I struggled to remember the name…all I could remember was that he was a demon. My heart stopped for a second. My father's murderer was demon and I had slept with him when I was sixteen or seventeen. Horeshio was…half-demon? I felt as if someone had taken all the blood out of my veins and replaced it with ice water.

 

“You're bleeding again!” Mitsu's voice came to me from a distance, even though he was right in front of me. “It's staining you shirt!” I stared at him in horror. “What's the matter?!” Panic found its way into his voice.

 

“I need to see Dr. Iwata,” I said, struggling to get up. Mitsu caught my arms.

 

“In the morning. It's too late now,” he said, trying to calm me down.

 

“No! I need to see him! Now!” I struggled with him, kicking and flailing my feet and arms. “You don't understand!” I kept struggling until the last of my strength gave out, and I sagged limply in his arms. “Please,” I whispered.

 

“Kagome-chan, Kagome-chan,” Mitsu whispered. “It's okay. I'm here. You don't have to worry when I'm around. I'll always protect you.” I wished I could have believed him.

 

Sleep didn't come that night, even though Mitsu kept his arms around me, as if in a gesture to keep me safe. I felt as if I was being trapped, suffocated. I got a little bit of rest only when he left for work the next morning. It was too early to wake the children up, and I hoped that if it went to see Dr. Iwata now, I could make it back before they woke up. I knew it was irresponsible, but I couldn't help it. I quietly slipped out the door and into my car, and started to drive.

 

Along the way, I found myself contemplating about Horeshio's father. I had been entertaining the thought that his father might have been that man Sesshoumaru, but then again, when we had met recently, he hadn't treated me as one would treat a lover. Heat rushed to my face.

 

“I'm blushing!” I exclaimed. “What's wrong with me!” I slapped my face lightly, earning incredulous stares from passersby. “What are you looking at?!” I yelled to them, which made them speed away from me when the light turned green. I drove on, grumbling to myself until I reached Dr. Iwata's office building. Once there, I snuck past the secretary behind a large family group and made my way down the hall. I opened the door to his office, and he looked at up, surprised.

 

“Kagome-san, I didn't know you had an appointment today,” he said, looking at his log.

 

“I don't,” I replied. His smile faltered. “I'm here for some answers.” He was about to say something but I cut him off sharply. “I know Horeshio has demon blood.”

 

“How did you-?” he stopped. His mouth opened and closed several times before he regained speech control. “Kagome-san. I don't know how that got into your head, but I can assure you that it is entirely untrue.”

 

“I remembered it. Kikyo said I had slept with out father's murderer. I know that he was murdered by a demon. Tell me who he is!”

 

“Kagome-san, please.”

 

“Tell me.” He backed away from my glare. He looked around the office nervously.

 

“I can't tell you anything,” he said finally. “It would be bad for both of us.”

 

“Why?” I asked. I was close to getting the answers I needed. I wasn't backing down now.

 

“They'll know I told you,” he mumbled, fidgeting nervously. “They'll know I told and then they'll do away with me.”

 

“What?” I asked, shocked. He only gave me a wide-eyed glance. “Who?”

 

“Them.”

 

“Who are they?”

 

“I can't say.”

 

“Is there anything you can say!?” I yelled in frustration. “Please Dr. Iwata! I need to know this! You don't know what it's like, having random memories come out of nowhere that you can't remember!” He looked around the room again, and then swallowed visibly.

 

“You're right. Horeshio does have demon blood,” he said, eyes flicking to the window every few seconds. My heart started racing. “He has dog demon blood.”

 

“Who is his father?” I asked quietly. My senses were screaming that something wasn't right, that something bad was going to happen any second, but I ignored them. This was what I had been waiting for.

 

“His father is-” There was an explosion as the window behind me shattered, and I instinctively closed my eyes and ducked. When I opened them, Dr. Iwata was lying on his back, blood spattered over the wall opposite me.

 

I don't remember opening my mouth to scream, I only remembering hearing it. I kept on screaming, even when the secretary came running, took in the scene before her, Dr. Iwata lying on the ground, dead, blood all over the walls, and me sitting on the floor screaming in hysteria, and didn't stop until the medics came and gave me medication that made me fall into a dreamless sleep. When I woke up, I saw Mitsu sitting in a chair across from me. When he saw me looking at him, he made a move to get up, but an officer restrained him.

 

“Mitani-san,” another said to me. “I am Tomoya-san. I'd like to ask you a few questions.”

 

“Leave her alone!” came the outraged yell from Mitsu. I groaned.

 

“What do you want?” I asked, not caring if I sounded rude.

 

“Don't answer anything!” Mitsu commanded.

 

“Please escort him out,” Tomoya-san said to the officer. He nodded, and pulled Mitsu up, dragging him out of the room amid his protests.

 

“What's going on?” I asked.

 

“We're investigating a murder,” Tomoya-san said gravely. “Why did you go see Dr. Iwata this morning? You had no known appointment.”

 

“I wanted to ask…some…questions,” I mumbled, suppressing yawns.

 

“Was there anyone else in the room?”

 

“No.”

 

“Did you have an argument?”

 

“Kind of,” I said, my brain not working properly.

 

“Kind of?” he asked.

 

“He didn't want to answer my questions,” I said.

 

“What were your questions?” The effects of the medication wore away.

 

“Why are you asking me all these questions,” I asked, brows knitting together. “Why are you treating me as a suspect?”

 

“Frankly Mitani-san, you are one. You were the only one in the room; the secretary heard raised voices, then silence, and then a gunshot. You have a motive.” I could only stare at him in horror.

 

………………………&# 8230;………………………… …………………………...