InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Dogs in Tokyo ❯ Chapter 34 ( Chapter 34 )

Chapter 34

It was after five when Inuyasha awoke again. The official part of the shrine festival was over and, while he could hear the voices of visitors on the grounds and smell the ashes of the bonfire, the music had stopped. He rolled over on his back and stared at the ceiling. It had been weird, lying on Kagome’s bed listening to the steady thump of the shrine drum. Not all that different from the drumming he had heard from villages all his life and comforting in its way. He wondered how much longer Kagome would be about that dress, and about the prospects of a snack.

He sat up, refusing to acknowledge the stinging ache from his healing arm. Fuck Sesshoumaru anyway, what if he hadn’t interposed himself between his brother’s claws and Kagome‘s tender arms? “The claws wouldn’t have connected, that’s what. And I would never have been allowed to forget that he pulled back to save my mate.” Inuyasha said aloud to the empty room and snorted. The endless game of one-upmanship he had played with his brother for his entire life ran by its own rules, but it was getting old.

His stomach growled and Inuyasha grimaced: healing always took it out of him. By the angle of the light he could see that some time had passed while he rested and he was due for a snack. Kagome had made it crystal clear that he was not to just go hunting in this time although there was plenty of surprisingly easy to catch food just sitting around waiting to be picked up. Those nice, fat carp a few houses down for instance…He stomach made another whining complaint that he echoed softly. In his mind’s eye he could envision salt-roasted fish sputtering over the campfire with Miroku deftly reaching forward at just the right instant to turn them. Kagome would be near him, setting up filled buns to steam over a pot of boiling water as Sango quietly whetted her blade. Shippou could be, well Shippou could be cleaning up the offal or something. It’s not like the kitsune ever caught any of the food anyway, except for that one rabbit that had nearly beaten him up.

Inuyasha’s mouth crooked at the memory of the kitsune’s reaction when the apparently dead rabbit in his snare turned out to be not so dead after all. The kid’s distressed squawks had been very funny but the rabbit was already pretty badly injured and the only right thing to do had been to put it swiftly out of its misery and dress the carcass in short order. Shippou had gotten a lot of undeserved compliments on his hunting prowess but Kagome hadn’t really been fooled and had sat extra close to him that night, her thigh brushing against his forearm every time she moved. Yes, that had been a good meal.

Definitely hungry now, Inuyasha took the quick route out of Kagome’s window to leave the house. A thorough sniff of the surrounding air promptly gave him a head full of smoke and incense along with the mixed human and artificial smells given off by the crowd of worshippers still at the shrine. No chance there of finding Kagome in that press of people unless she was upset or hurt. Determining she was neither so far as he could tell he made a bee-line to the back door of the kitchen and the refrigerator. He was shifting mysterious packets around on the shelves in search of something he recognized when Higurashi-San came in.

“Where’s Kagome?” he asked as she gently shooed him aside and started drawing out appropriate things for him to eat.

“Well, she’s with you isn’t she?” she asked. “The car that brought the dresser here is gone.”

“No, and she’s not in the house. I didn’t want to check the shrine grounds; there are still too many people around and I was hungry and… What’s this?” Inuyasha interrupted himself as Higurashi-San handed him a plastic package of Porky Pork and a frosty cold can of Salamatoma.

“Food,” she said succinctly, and watched as he deftly sliced the bag open with a clawed finger tip and popped the top of the can without using the tab. He up-ended the bag into his mouth and took a healthy swig of his drink. His face was a bit of a study as he chewed but he made no comment on the flavor. “So, Kagome said nothing to you about leaving? I’m beginning to think she may have left with the kimono lady after all. I haven‘t seen her all afternoon.”

Inuyasha stopped in the act of taking another messy mouthful of chips and looked at her, a dried and salted pork chip hanging out of his mouth. “Yurr…” he managed before realizing that the slightly chewy strips of pork crackling were in the way. He made a slight head gesture to the side preparatory to spitting out the mouthful of chips but found himself facing Higurashi-San. She had swiftly leaned over to continue being face to face with him and was now in the line of fire. Her expression caused him to pull back and wash things down with another swig of the peculiar drink instead.

“Inuyasha, I would appreciate it if you would try to chew with your mouth closed. Manners will be very important during the wedding ceremony and at the reception afterwards and I will be presenting my fine son-in-law to my relatives. Your mother also must be watching you from the heavens. Both you and Kagome will be focus of attention and there‘s going to be food served. Do you think you could do that?“ She smiled at his bug eyed stare, “I mean could you follow a few rules? You know; chew with your mouth closed, don’t leave your chopsticks standing up in the bowl and wait for the food to be served to you.”

He paused in the act of raising the can to his mouth again and instead put the can down with a careful precision on the counter, “You think I can’t act right, don’t you?” His voice was quiet but his clawed fingers twitched and he spilled a bit of the tomato juice he was drinking. The red flowed down the side of the can across his fingers. All he could do was stare at it stupidly as if he saw something different than the flow of salt water and vegetable matter.

“No, it’s not that, but…”

He shook his head hard enough to make his ears flap and tightened them to the sides of his skull as he changed the subject to one he could handle, “Where would this kimono lady have taken Kagome?”

“Why, to someone who knows about that sort of kimono. I did warn the kimono lady that the style was old but I doubt she took me very seriously. It must have been a shock.” Higurashi-San turned away and started pulling more things out preparatory to starting dinner as she rattled on, “I’m sure Kagome is alright, Inuyasha-Kun. The reason why I hired this lady was her reputation for thoroughness and honesty. When Asuki-San’s daughter Meri got married last Spring and wanted a real, American-style wedding with an American-style gown she contacted a person she knew in the states to get all the information and the right place in America to order the gown from. Very tough to find Meri’s size of course but the Priscilla company did have some that could be altered to fit.”

Inuyasha rolled his eyes with boredom and frustration, “So, where would they know how to put on that kimono?” He was beginning to regret ever coming up with the thing. Or even having let this wedding-ceremony business even be started. They had been fine as they were before.

Higurashi-San blinked and frowned, considering his question. “In a museum or, maybe a kabuki theater?” She hazarded, “There’s the National Theater in the east end of the Ginza by the palace and another big old thing in the west end, but..” She looked up and found herself speaking to empty space. Inuyasha had gone.

…>>>o<<<…

K agome sat with the bulk of the robes in her lap and tried to see past them out the window of the car. For some reason she had thought they were just heading down the street to the local beauty shop to meet someone, not taking a trip across town. She batted at the top folds of clothing and peered over them; they were pulling up to what Kagome recognized as the massive ferro-concrete façade of the Kabuki-za theater where she had gone for some school field trips but, instead of going past to the parking lot, they took a sharp turn and eased their way down a narrow driveway that was set into the building itself. The kimono lady muttered under her breath nervously as she eased the car into a space between a dumpster and an ornate palanquin complete with huge paper flowers and fluttering streamers.

“Um, is this the right place?” Kagome ventured as she struggled with the bundle of cloth to open the car door.

“Yes, yes, I’m quite sure. My former teacher was most clear. Let me get that for you.” In a moment she was out of the car and around to Kagome’s side to open the door and reverently help steady the bundle as Kagome struggled out. There was barely room to maneuver. She then led the way across to the sidewalk to the prosaic glass door set into the wall several yards away with Kagome trailing behind and uncertainly feeling for her footing among pots of dried-up flowers with extravagantly written dedications from fan clubs and dead potted plants. The congested roar of city traffic echoed in this enclosed space and made it all the more prosaic.

Once through the door, the noise and smells were almost completely cut off and they found themselves in a typical lowered entryway of the type to be found in any of the older office buildings in Japan. It was lined with shelves for street shoes along with a separate shelf that held slippers meant to wear while inside.

Kagome was toeing off her well worn loafers while still gripping the heavy bundle of her wedding kimono when an old man appeared with a sprightly, “Good Morning!” which had her looking back over her shoulder at the afternoon sunlight filtering in behind her through the glass door.

The old man chuckled at her reaction and said, “Old theater custom. Here you go, Sama.” He set a pair of slippers for her to step into while placing her discarded shoes on a shelf. As he performed this small service he glanced up at the kimono lady who had already changed her shoes and was waiting with poorly-concealed impatience. “And you are…?”

“Oshima-San, we are meeting Nakamura-San, she works here as a..”

The old man cut her off, “I know Nakamura-San but she is doing fittings with Bando today. I will have to check.” He stood up from his crouching position easily and shuffled off down the hallway to a windowed counter on the right.

The kimono lady followed him quickly, saying, “I just got off the phone with her, I know she’s expecting us.”

Kagome followed them with hesitant curiosity. The counter fronted an office of sorts that had a long wooden board on its back wall filled with scarlet wooden pegs. Some were in the top row but most were down on the bottom. Another old man sat behind the counter and the three adults were quickly engaged in a muttered discussion.

Kagome balanced her bundle against her chest to ease her arms and took the opportunity to look around. Up above the window of the small office was a shelf holding a small shrine decorated with paper strips and offering bottles of sake, each one inscribed with a name. On the opposite side of the hallway was an open door next to a color TV monitor showing a large stage with some men positioning shoji screens on the front of what looked like a traditional house. She could faintly hear hammering echoing down the hallway and realized that she must be within earshot of the activity on the stage. She could also hear a radio through the open door beside the monitor and couldn’t resist taking a look. She shuffled forward in her over-large slippers and peeked into the room but drew back to the edge of the doorframe when she saw several people quietly occupying themselves in it. One woman was carefully running basting stitches through a stiff pile of gorgeously-colored silks spread before her on the central table while a man and a woman were playing a desultory hand of cards using a corner of that same table. The radio softly played Chinese hits from forty years ago in the background next to an antiquated electric teapot. The room was a fairly large one but was made much smaller by the floor to ceiling shelves lining the walls. There was a break for one small window to the outside which held a couple of house plants desperately trying to make use of the remaining sunlight on its sill.

The female card player looked up sharply and caught sight of Kagome and her large bundle of cloth. She tossed down her cards and rose with a soft exclamation. “Ah, this must be the girl,” she announced to the room at large and made her way past the packed storage shelves and the electric kettle towards Kagome and the door.

Her companion promptly reached over and exposed her abandoned hand. “I knew you were bluffing,” he said sourly and reshuffled to deal out a hand of solitaire.

Kagome backed away into the hall way as the woman advanced and bumped into the kimono lady who gave an irritated exclamation, “Ah, watch what you are doing!” The kimono lady turned around and caught sight of the woman in the doorway. Immediately, she was all smiles, “Nakamura-San, there you are. I have brought the girl and the kimono as you asked. These two,” she cast no friendly glance at the two elderly theater men, “were not sure you were available.”

“Normally, I wouldn’t be, Oshima-San. But old uncle here overheard our conversation and insisted you bring this amazing kimono for him to see forthwith. Isn’t that right, Bando?” She turned with a smile and looked back through the doorway at the man still sitting in the room behind her.

“Quite right,” the man responded easily and stood up from the stool he had been sitting on to reveal a slender frame topped by an ageless face upon which the deeper emotions of human existence seemed to be deeply etched.

Kagome stared at him arrested. There was something very odd about him, his movements were very sinuous and seemed to contrast oddly with his workaday appearance.

“That is heavy for you child. Let me take that.”

Before she could protest (and indeed, the bundle was very heavy and weighing on her arms) Kagome found herself relieved of her burden and following the man down the hall with the woman he had been playing cards with rushing ahead of her to his side.

“Bando-Jijii, you know I should be carrying that.”

“Nonsense, we’ll put this down to exercise. Just get the curtain for me.” With that, he ducked through a curtained doorway on the right-hand side of the hall without giving anyone the chance of lifting the curtains for him and led the way to the verge of a tatami mat room

Here he paused and passed over the bundle of cloth to his assistant while he toed off his slippers and carefully stepped onto the mats in his tabi-covered feet. He padded slowly across the room and subsided onto a cushion facing the doorway while Kagome and the kimono lady scrambled to get their slippers off before stepping on the mats and the woman carrying the wedding kimono knelt to place it on the floor before her.

As the two visitors found cushions for themselves and knelt, Nakamura-San matter-of factly stepped out of her own slippers and scooted around the package to get at the knots holding it together. Within a few moments she had the knots holding it together unwound and was off to the side wall to bring out a T-shaped wooden rack on a stand upon which she put the kimono in full display.

It took her a few minutes and Kagome had plenty of time in which to become dismayed at the sheer quantity of cloth that she was seeing placed upon the rack before her. Even Oshima-San beside her seemed a little daunted as layer after layer was built up into a tour de force of variations upon the theme of white.

Finally, Nakamura-San was finished and stepped back.

There was a moment of silence. “Is that all?” asked Bando.

Nakamura-San looked at him sharply, “All that came in the package, Bando-Jijii.”

“No apron? No fan? No crown?”

Nakamura-San glanced over at her dumfounded visitors and sighed, “This is not the wedding kimono of an empress. This is the real thing. Not a kabuki costume. Jijii, are you going to help out or not?”

Bando frowned pettishly for a moment and Kagome was yet again struck by a familiar oddity to his movements; very like those of a particularly handsome snake. He caught her stare and smiled disingenuously. She also surreptitiously attempted to sit a little more erectly on her feet in the face of his perfect poise.

“We shall just have to give the young bride a fan to carry, that is all. Up, girl, let’s see you walk up and introduce yourself.”

Kagome looked around a little wildly at her companions but stood up from her kneeling position easily enough. (Nothing like spending years in an ancient fairy tale to perfect your handling of antique social norms. I always say.) She took a few steps and stood silent, waiting to be acknowledged.

Nakamura-San gave a brief laugh and said, “You see, Bando-Jijii? A girl with good manners.” She turned to Kagome and said, “Meet my old uncle. He used to be a great mitsume, and even now he’s not bad. He knows more about lady’s kimonos than anyone else I know. He was here when I took your call, Oshima-San, and insisted on seeing this wonderful kimono and the girl who rates it.”

Kagome was caught between cringing and curiosity. Curiosity won. “You play women’s roles Sensei?” He was lightly built to be sure, but not very feminine-looking as he sat before her.

“I’m only taking old lady parts now.” He responded with a noticeably youthful smile. Kagome couldn’t help but smile back.

Nakamura-San gave a ripe snort. “And what about your wisteria girl last week?”

“What about it? This week I am the old lady in “The Sword Sharpener.”

“Oh, give me a break! They never asked you to do that role.”

”Young Kanzaburo is sick and I must take the role as the next junior actor.”

“Junior actor,” Nakamura sniffed, starting to deftly remove Kagome’s yukata before the girl quite knew what she was about. “What about his understudy?” She grunted to herself meditatively as Oshima-San came up to Kagome’s other side, ready to help.

“Too old for the part! He’s 28 and his cheeks are too fat. I tell you; if that young man doesn’t watch it he find himself in male parts quick as winking. Now, let’s see about this this kimono, I think we‘d better have the hedajuban off if we‘re going to have the line right. And then we‘ll see how the girl moves in it.”

Kagome gave a little whimper as the two dressers undid her waist tapes and pulled her

hedajuban off, leaving her in a bra and panties. They all jumped nearly out of their skins as there was a resounding crash and shatter of glass and a sound of quickly-drumming feet up the hallway. They could hear a youthful voice from just outside the doorway; “Dude, I don’t think you should be wearing the production wigs around like that.”

There was the ugly sound of a slap and a body falling as the curtains were torn aside.

TBC>>>>>>>:o>>>>