InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Finding Kagome ❯ Chapter Nineteen ( Chapter 19 )

DISCLAIMER: I do not own InuYasha and company, however I DO own an overactive imagination...

 

 

 

 

Finding Kagome

 

 

 

 

Chapter 19

 

 

Kagome's tongue slipped past her lips as she concentrated on the elaborate kanji she was attempting to duplicate. Sitting on her knees at a low table, she chanced a darting glance at Michael's work down the table from her. Why do I feel like I'm back in school . . . she sighed, and failing . . . She returned to her task, though it was difficult to concentrate. Of course . . . I had to ask Momma to make me more, so she insists I learn to do it myself. Not that she had anything else to worry about, oh no . . .

 

The revelations of the last few days swam in her head. It was as though her comfortable little world had been gradually pulled apart and reassembled into some abstract mural, where the familiar had been replaced with the fantastic and reality was now the illusion.

 

She had known that within the legend there was some basis in fact, but she had always seen it more as a tale of morality. The pure of heart searching for some truth, amending an error by restoring the shattered Jewel by battling elements of darkness and evil. The 'Happily Ever After' ending with the completion of the Jewel. She had never really thought about what happened after that.

 

But isn't that how life is? There really is no end to any story, life keeps happening . . . endings are merely constructs of the storyteller.

 

“If you don't concentrate, all you will have is a piece of pretty paper, little one.” Ouna had been standing in the doorway for several moments, observing her two 'apprentices'. “Are you going for aesthetic or functional?”

 

“Preferably . . . both Ouna-sensei,” remarked Michael with a grin.

 

“Hm,” she grunted as she moved closer to examine his handiwork.

 

“I'm sorry Momma, I just can't seem to concentrate. I'm trying, really I am . . .” Kagome took in a deep breath and sat back from the table. She could feel the pulsing of the orb that was nestled between her breasts, and it was alternately comforting and distracting. Gazing at her efforts she grimaced, “It's not even pretty paper.”

 

“Michael, are you sure you haven't done this before?” Ouna picked up one of the dry sutra from the stack that he had in front of him.

 

“No ma'am, this is all new ground for me, how do they look?” He raised himself onto his knees stretching his torso to see which one she was holding. Kagome leaned in their direction also trying to get a glimpse.

 

“These are remarkable, Michael. What were you thinking as you wrote them?”

 

He took a moment to consider her question. “I did just what you said to do, I cleared my mind and then just concentrated on the prayer for each one. Each one is different...”

 

“I see that . . . and I can feel it too. . .” she trailed off, peering at the young man.

 

Blushing under her scrutiny, Michael squirmed and made motions of straightening up his work area. Setting the stack of finished and dried sutra to the far side of the table, he quickly pulled his hand back for his brush, grazing the still open ink jar and tipping it over to spill some of the thick fluid on the table. His unusually quick reflexes true to form, he righted the bottle with a low curse as he frantically glanced around for something to clean the mess with, trying to avoid Ouna's eyes. Grabbing an unused strip of paper, he blotted at the ink spot, then folded it. Unfolding the paper, he examined the result then held it up to Kagome.

 

“Ink blot . . . what do you see, Miko??” Kagome tried to suppress a giggle behind the back of her hand, as he cast her an impish grin.

 

“It would be interesting to see what Shippou thinks of these,” Ouna commented absently, as Kagome and Michael froze for a moment, then began snickering simultaneously at the memory of the demon's repeated head bashing against Ouna's ward earlier that morning. It was nice to laugh about it now, as frightening as the whole scene had been to them as it had unfolded.

 

“Surely mine aren't as strong as yours are, Ouna,“ he looked up and on seeing the seriousness in her eyes he stopped chuckling, his cheeks reddening once again..

 

“Only one way to find out . . .” and she grinned with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “He's been with Taki for the last hour, going over the preliminary designs for the set. Come with me Michael, lets set one up and see what happens.”

 

Michael rose to follow her, grabbing the stack off of the table, his expression skeptical.

 

“Momma! Isn't that kind of mean? I mean, he's your friend . . . It just seems mean to me, to do something like that . . .” Kagome trailed off, as she rose to follow the two.

 

“There's no real harm, little one. Warning him would defeat the purpose. If he knows what's there and who created it, then that will effect his reaction to it. This way we can get a true test of the power of Michael's work.” She led them from the room, and out into the heavily landscaped courtyard which separated the main house from the bungalows. During the summer months these dwellings were filled with guests, escaping from the city to relax in the hot springs, or participate in one of the many workshops that were hosted there. Taki and Bo shared one of the little houses on the far end, near the gardening shed, and that was where Shippou had gone.

 

Kagome hesitated as they made their way down the steps, watching as her mother whispered some instructions to Michael, who then simply set a slip of paper which she had chosen onto the pathway. Then sitting cross legged on the ground partially hidden by a hydrangea bush, he pressed together his fingertips and assumed a posture of meditation. Ouna walked back toward Kagome, and sat on an ornate iron bench, looking back at her daughter, and patting the seat next to her in invitation.

 

“I don't like this, Momma,” Kagome muttered as she seated herself beside her mother. “It just feels . . . wrong.”

 

“Shippou has been a Godsend, little one. I have learned much about the nature of his kind from him. His mate is from Great Britain, did you know that? She is also kitsune-youkai. This won't be the first time for him to be my guinea pig, nor the last I am sure,” she patted her daughter's hand.

 

Kagome stared at her mother in disbelief. She still had a million questions that had not been answered. It seemed as though no sooner than she would just begin to get comfortable with one new revelation, and another one would be thrown at her.

 

“Momma, why didn't you ever tell me about Shippou before now?”

 

“Hm . . . it never came up?” Kagome raised an eyebrow at Ouna's feeble attempt at evasion.

 

“How long have you known him??” She demanded. “How did you meet him??”

 

Ouna fixed her gaze on her only child, then letting out a slow breath, she scanned the courtyard searching for a suitable answer. Her greatest fear had been realized the day they had removed the Shikon no Tama from her baby girl. It would have been so much simpler if it had been purified. . . now only an uncertain future lies ahead . Kagome deserved answers, but she feared losing her because of those answers. There was nothing to be done now, only the truth would suffice.

 

“We met at the family shrine in Tokyo. You were a tiny baby then. My mother sent me, well . . . sent us . . . so that I could get grounded after your father was killed,” her gaze returned to her daughter. “Losing him so suddenly left me a bit of a lost soul, I suppose,” she sighed.

 

“You never told me we went to Japan, Momma.” There was hint of disbelief in Kagome's expression as she watched her mother seem to gather courage for what was to follow. Can it really be that bad??

 

“He had said that he wanted to see where his adopted mother came from. I thought he was addled at first, I had heard nothing about any legal adoptions in the family, so I assumed he had the wrong place. He took me to Goshinboku, and told me that was where the hanyou had been sleeping, the one who had raised him,” her gaze unfocused, “It never made any sense to me, how a half demon could be sealed to the family tree and no one notice it . . . and here was this stranger, appearing from no where telling me details about our God Tree . . .” Ouna went quiet

 

“You didn't know his true nature then, I take it . . .” Kagome pressed.

 

“No . . . he appeared to be European, with his oddly bright red hair . . . Then he told me about my aunt, and what strong and brave woman she was and how she had cared for him after he was orphaned, how the miko and the hanyou avenged his father's murder. He spoke of his grief when she died, and how hurt he was when the hanyou had driven him away.” Ouna paused in reflection.

 

“Are you saying that something about his story didn't add up? Momma, seriously, there is a lot about all of this that just doesn't add up to me . . . Kagome put her hand on her mother's and nodded in the direction of the path. 'Oh look, here they come. . .”

 

Taki, Bo and Shippou strolled toward the courtyard chatting animatedly, Taki waving a cardboard tube in emphasis, while Bo ambled along behind them nodding his agreement. Shippou waved his hands in front of him, obviously negating something, then looked up to see Kagome and Ouna sitting on the bench. His frown turned to a brilliant smile.

 

“Ouna, your man does not see eye to eye with me!” he shouted as he quickened his step. “Is there a reason that the Bone Eater's Well has been excluded?”

 

“The Bone . . . what??” demanded Kagome as she looked at her mother's disconcerted expression.

 

“I was getting to that part . . .” her mother muttered, and their attention was suddenly drawn to the source of a wild yelp as all three men were bounced back onto the stone walkway.

 

“Get off of me you oaf!!” grumbled Taki at a startled Bo who had been blown backwards by Shippou, who was now sprawled on the path, holding his head.

 

“Oh Momma, see?? They're hurt!!” and Kagome jumped up to go assist, while Michael emerged from behind the bush with a sheepish grin.

 

Bo rolled off of Taki, shaking his head as Kagome offered him a hand up. The aging gardener on the other hand, while quick to accept was unable to rise, grabbing his knee and wincing in pain.

 

Ouna quickly made her way to the demon, laughing as she knelt by his side. She motioned for Michael to join her and he did so, albeit a bit timidly.

 

“That one wasn't one of yours . . . that one really . . . hurt!!” Shippou moaned as he rubbed his head, examining his old friend. He then glared at the young man for a moment, as though considering a proper act of retribution. “Lose the fucking ward, monk...” he growled. Michael's eyes widened, the terse order sounded so . . . familiar . . . and instinctively he raised his hands in an effort to explain. “NOW!” He quickly grabbed the sutra and ripped it, sensing the dissipation of the power as he did so.

 

“Don't be angry at the boy, Shippou . . . I told him to do it. It was the only way to fairly test his power . . .” Ouna explained, attempting to diffuse the situation.

 

“Riiight,” and the youkai slowly stood, eying the young man suspiciously.

 

“Momma, this is bad . . .” Kagome drew their attention to to Taki's knee, which had begun to swell noticeably.

 

“Stupid moose landed right on top of me . . .” he groaned, rubbing at his knee while casting a fiery glare at Bo, who stood back with a terribly sad expression in his eyes.

 

“It was an accident, Taki . . . Bo got knocked around too . . . by my head I think,” grumbled the youkai rubbing at his temple. “No more, monk . . . I mean it . . . once is more than enough. Some things carry over. Miroku was quite formidable, you know.”

 

“I didn't know . . . Miroku, huh?” Michael's focus on the kitsune-youkai intensified for a moment, then he muttered, “sorry . . .” then wandered over to the bench to sit and stare at the sky.

 

“I told you this was a bad idea, Momma! Now look at Taki's leg . . .” Kagome chastised. Ouna rose and went to examine the damage, her fingers gingerly pressing against his kneecap with a light glow.

 

“Doesn't look good, I think we should have this scanned . . .” she mumbled. Youkai were damn near indestructible, but her gardener wasn't, and the guilt was beginning to seep into her cheeks.

“I can alleviate some of the pain, but you shouldn't walk on it...” she concentrated her energy on swollen tissue.

 

“Wait . . . Momma . . .” hesitation in her voice, Kagome could feel a pulse radiating through her body. “Let me try something . . . please?” The memory of her dream was vivid, her hands had glowed as she touched the injury, and it had healed right before their eyes. Perhaps that is what the new sensations were about...

 

Ouna backed away, as she watched her daughter reach out toward Taki's knee. The pink aura began at her fingertips and radiated past her elbows as she gently laid her open palms across the effected area. The pulse was like a heartbeat that filled the air around them...

 

one...

 

two...

 

three...

 

and Kagome pulled back to examine her handiwork.

 

Michael jumped at the throbbing in the air around him, it seemed to crackle, and he rushed to her side to see Taki working his knee, which appeared to no longer be swollen in the least.

 

“She's remembering,” Shippou whispered.

 

“I'll be damned . . .” Michael mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck with wide eyes focused on Kagome.

 

“No, monk . . . You're blessed . . .” corrected the youkai. “We all are. She's really back.”

 

Staring at the youkai, Michael sensed a kind of apprehension behind that statement. He watched his dear friend as she helped the gardener up to test his freshly healed knee.

 

“Why do I get the feeling . . .” he commented, “that for some strange reason this does not bode well?”

 

 

~ooO0Ooo~