InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Finding Kagome ❯ Chapter 22

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

 

 

 

Finding Kagome

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty Two

 

 

 

 

“Something is wrong,” muttered Michael as he paced back and forth on the front porch of Ouna's residence, stopping periodically with hands in his pockets to peer down the road as though by his will alone he could make Sally's car appear. “It's not like her to be so late. Her shift ended at four . . . she should have been here more than an hour ago.”

 

“Relax Mikey, Sally's an expert driver,” assured Kagome as she released the moth she had just healed for the second time. “This is so cool!” She watched the insect fly directly into the porch light and begin bouncing off of it again. He cast a glance at the moth, then at her and rolled his eyes. Witnessing his less than enthusiastic reaction, she sighed. “She said she was going by my place, right? She'll be here soon.” She idly fingered Jewel as she watched him resume his pacing.

 

Shippou had left shortly after the incident in the courtyard. He had seemed agitated, and had taken her mother aside to speak privately about something. Whatever it had been about, it had left Ouna in her own state of disquiet which she had unsuccessfully tried to cover with a cheerful discussion about options for the evening meal.

 

Taki had seemed like a new person after having his knee healed. Kagome knew the man to be nearing his middle sixties, but after the powerful intervention he seemed much younger. More than just an injured knee had been healed. What the argument with Shippou had been about seemed to have been forgotten by both parties after that. Kagome couldn't help but wonder what it was that Shippou had told her mother, and why had it left her so disturbed. One thing was certain, she knew it had something to do with her, and she didn't like that at all. He had hugged her tightly before going, telling her to practice her archery, of all things. I haven't used a bow since the fifth grade . . . why would he tell me to start now?

 

Michael stopped his pacing. As he crossed one arm over his chest, he stretched one long fingered hand across his lowered forehead and rubbed both temples simultaneously. With a frustrated grunt, he dragged the hair tie out of his long black hair, and shook it out vigorously before rubbing fingers through it, massaging his scalp. Kagome couldn't remember ever having seen him so agitated. Michael had always been one of the most easy going people she had ever known. Why is everyone so uptight? Am I just having an empathic response . . . or is something really wrong here?

 

“Do you have a headache Mikey?” she rose from the step where she had been sitting to reach out to him, pausing to suppress a giggle at his wild appearance after mussing his hair. “All you need now are hairy knuckles, and you would make a great cave man . . .” she grinned. He crossed his arms, leaning slightly to one side, arching a brow at her. “C'mere . . “. she beckoned, as she approached to gently turn him so she could access his taught shoulders with nimble fingers.

 

“God that feels good . . .” he moaned, his knees dipping slightly as she pushed her thumbs into the muscle, and he twisted his neck to look at her hand on his shoulder, “What . . . no pink junk? Wow, I'm impressed.”

 

“Hey, I know a little bit about massage without having to rely on the 'pink junk',” she scowled. “Is it really that bad? I mean . . . do you see the power as a bad thing?”

 

“Bad? No Kagome, it's a blessing . . . just like Shippou said . . .” he paused.

 

“Why do I hear a 'but'?” she stopped her ministrations, twisting around him to lock onto his the depths of his dark eyes.

 

“There's no 'but' . . .” and he sighed. “Ok . . . so maybe a little of the 'sour grapes' syndrome.” He turned and smoothed his expression, “You have an amazing ability, Kagome . . . and I'm proud of how you are handling it.”

 

“So do you!! Kami, Mikey!! You stopped Shippou dead in his tracks . . . you made him bounce off of that ward! You heard what he said . . . Miroku was a powerful monk, and it's obviously carried over . . .” Kagome realized suddenly that she had grabbed both of his arms in her exuberance and was very nearly shaking him. She blushed and let go, backing away a step.

 

“No you don't,” he reached out and pulled her in for a warm embrace. “You can't try to shake sense into my thick skull without giving me a hug afterwards . . . that's the rules.”

 

“The rules, huh?” as he was nearly a head taller, her ear was on his chest as her arms encircled his waist and she could hear his heartbeat while he kissed the top of her head. “Mikey, do you remember anything? About . . . before?” she raised her eyes to meet his.

 

“I think Shippou was right . . .” There was a look in his eyes she had never seen before, “he said we were all in love with you . . . I have no doubt in the truth of that.” There was a longing in his expression, and it pulled at her uncomfortably. She had to look away. Michael shouldn't be looking at her like that.

 

“What do you think happened to the hanyou?” her ear was again against his chest and she gazed off into the night.

 

“Honestly?” he sighed. “Your guess is as good as mine . . .” he pulled back to look into her liquid blue eyes, “had it been me . . . I would have followed you post haste into the afterlife.”

 

Kagome's breath caught. There were entirely too many levels of 'wrong' in the way he was looking at her. It crossed her mind that it had to be because he was missing Selene, and she quickly changed the direction of their discussion.

 

“But you had Sally . . . what did he say her name was?” at this prompting his attention moved to the road again, and Kagome suppressed a sigh of relief. That had just been . . . scary.

 

“He said her name was Sango, and . . . she was an exterminator.” His brow furrowed. “It stands to reason that she has some innate powers too. The thing that has me concerned is, why all of this is manifesting now. Why not five years ago? Do you remember when we first met?”

 

“Of course I do,” Kagome smiled at the memory. “I was fresh out of high school, and trying to find my way around the campus. I was so lost . . .”

 

“And you had your head stuck in that map of the campus and ran headlong into me in the hallway of the Psych building,” he finished.

 

“mmhmm, and when you were helping me pick up my books your hand . . .” Kagome blushed, as she felt a familiar albeit unwelcome warmth on her left buttock. Smacking Michael on the shoulder she moved away from him with a glare. Lecherous jerk. And she had gotten close enough to let him do it!!

 

“My hand had a mind of it's own . . . some things just don't change . . .” and he smirked as he rubbed at his shoulder. “It's a curse, I tell ya . . . a curse!”

 

“I'll show you cursed!” She shook her fist at him. “Your woman will be here soon, and she can deal with your stupid cursed hand . . .” she folded her arms in a huff. “Oh . . . look . . .” her eyes fell on the moth, laying still on the boards of the porch. She bent to carefully pick it up.

 

“You know, that's really kind of sick, Kagome . . . repeatedly healing that stupid bug,” Michael criticized as he focused once again on the road. “You are just prolonging the inevitable.”

 

“Yeah, well . . . I guess it stops here,” she muttered as she frowned at the frozen form in her hands. “I suppose it would be asking too much to be able to raise the dead, huh?”

 

At that, he studied her with a look of amazement, as she held the deceased insect in her delicate hand.

 

“You should be careful for what you wish for, little one,” Ouna commented, standing just inside the wood framed screen door. “Any new ability brings more responsibility. I think you have enough on your shoulders as it is, don't you?” Ancient spring hinges wheezed as she opened the door to join them.

 

“That's what has me worried . . . why is all this is happening now, Ouna? Anything else that you haven't told us?” The look on Michael's face was on the border of accusatory. Their eyes locked for a moment, and Kagome's attention shifted back and forth between the two, wondering if perhaps she may have missed something.

 

“Momma,” she ventured, “What did Shippou say to you just before he left? I know it was something that bothered you, I could see it in your eyes.” She approached her mother, placing her hand on her shoulder, examining the expression on her mother's face. She's really worried...

 

“Well . . .” Ouna looked out into the night, dark with the early waxing of the moon. “Basically he reprimanded me for not telling you about the well.” She looked at her daughter, wary of how she would react.

 

“What well, Ouna?” queried Michael.

 

“The Bone Eater's Well . . .” she sighed. “It's an ancient well, housed deep in the basement of one of the storage buildings at the shrine. I knew about it, because Shippou showed it to me when we first met.”

 

“O-Okay . . . and?” Kagome prompted, seeing the reluctance in her mother's eyes. Ouna pulled a stool up and sat down, with an air of resignation.

 

“Kagome, did you ever wonder how it was that no one ever saw the hanyou before Aunt Kagome did? I mean no one ever noticed anything strange about Goshinboku, other than it's age and size. . . yet that's where she found him? And he had been there for 50 years.”

 

Kagome peered at her mother, as she thought about the questions. This must be one of those things that didn't add up.

 

“What are you trying to say, Momma?” she pressed, emotionally bracing herself for whatever it might be.

 

“It wasn't so much where Aunt Kagome hunted for the shards, little one . . .” and she took a deep breath watching her daughter's reaction. “It was when.”

 

“Wait a minute...” Michael held up his hands, “Your Great Aunt was born in the middle 1970's . . . so it stands to reason that she began her adventure around 1990. Did the hanyou just appear one day on the Sacred Tree?”

 

“No Michael, she found him on the tree, certainly . . . but not in 1990. It was probably closer to 1490, at least from what we have been able to deduce.”

 

“The ancient Miko garb . . .” mused Kagome. “Of course! That's why in the pictures of her with Great Grandfather Souta she wore those traditional clothes . . . but . . . oh now I am confused. There weren't cameras back then!”

 

“No, no, no, no, little one . . .” Ouna reached up to touch her daughter's arm. “The well was her gateway back and forth.”

 

“OK... now we're crossing into science fiction here,” and Michael waved his hands in the air in exasperation. “So what is it?? Fantasy, full of demons and magic? Or sci-fi with time travel through mysterious hidden portals??”

 

“It can't be categorized like that, Mikey . . . i t's not a story!! Not anymore . . . Don't you get it? This stuff really happened!! It's happening NOW! Or how else would you explain Shippou, or what happened in the courtyard? Or Taki's knee? Or . . . or . . . or that stupid moth??” Kagome was near tears, as she motioned toward where she had left the insect laying on the edge of the porch.

 

“Michael, fix your hair... Selene is coming...” Ouna cast aside calmly, as she took Kagome into her arms. “Unless you want her to believe that you have left off personal grooming this last week...”

 

“What?? Oh, hell,” and he began to drag his fingers through the tangles while attempting to bring some sense of order to his world. Muttering more to himself than the two women, “I can buy the supernatural, I've always believed there was more to the world than meets the eye . . . religion has documented instances of miracles for centuries, prayer meeting healing, stigmata . . . even if it seems more to do with the ability of the human brain to bring about changes . . . cases of close connections between people,” he paused to wrap the tie at the base of his neck, then began pacing with his mutterings, “telepathic and empathic responses, dream communications . . .” he held up each hand alternately as though weighing sides to his internal argument, “even magical creatures, which have been a staple throughout history, perpetuating mythos, usually with concentration on moral instruction . . .”

 

“I am beginning to think the analyst is in need of analysis . . .” Ouna whispered to her daughter, who's tears had become soft giggles.

 

“...but I will be damned if I can find a justification or rationalization in belief in a time traveling teenager...” and he looked over at the two of them gaping, “Who tries to save the world!” At this point both hands were up, in more of a shrug than in a balance to the weight of his arguments. “What's so damn funny?”

 

Sally's car pulled into the driveway, wild guitar riffs blaring then sudden silence as she killed the engine. She jumped out dragging a six pack of beer with her.

 

“I am here!! And I brought beer!!” she announced as she trotted up the steps to grab Michael into a vice grip.

 

“You're a poet, my dear Selene . . . how on Earth did you know how badly I need a drink right now?” he returned her hug with equal enthusiasm, “Gods how I have missed you,” he whispered into her ear, accenting it with a deep kiss.

 

“If you don't need a drink now, you will when I get through,” she broke her hold on him and turned to Kagome. “I have some really bad news, 'Gome . . .” and she pulled out a long neck and handed it to her closest friend.

 

Ouna frowned as she watched her daughter take the offered bottle.

 

Kagome collapsed cross legged on the porch, looking absently at the bottle she was holding. Sally crouched on her haunches in front of her, elbows on her knees holding an open bottle with a question furrowing her brow.

 

“Has anyone made any threats against you recently?” she asked, in her best big sister tone.

 

Kagome blinked, then examined her friend. What a strange question . . .

 

“May I have permission to run away screaming now??” pleaded Michael as he twisted the cap off of one of the beers, tipping it to pull a long swallow.

 

“Not advisable Michael . . . you know what's out there,” warned Ouna.

 

“No problem!! I'll just toss ofuda at the boogie men as I go . . .” he waved his hand as though throwing his slips of paper, then he shook his head tipping the bottle upside down again and turning away.

 

“What are you talking about??” demanded the detective, twisting to glare at her fiancée.

 

“Don't ask,” whispered Kagome. “What's happened Selene?”

 

“Your apartment was ransacked . . . no . . . wait . . . that's not entirely accurate,” and she looked down at her feet.

 

“Ransacked? You mean someone broke in?” Kagome asked with disbelief..

 

“That's an understatement . . . ' Gome . . . the door was splintered and off the hinges,” she trailed off, finally taking a drink from her own bottle.

 

“And so it has begun . . .” Ouna frowned even deeper.

 

“Are you kidding? It began last Saturday . . . I would definitely say its already 'in progress'.” Michael drained the bottle and placing it back in the carton reached immediately for another.

 

“What are you talking about, monk?” Sally demanded, peering at him. Michael leaned on one hip as he twisted the cap off the bottle.

 

He nodded to Kagome with a grim expression. “Show her...” he said.

 

“Show me what? What is going on?” Sally stared at Kagome with her brow furrowed.

 

Kagome blinked, appearing a little shell shocked as she reached for the leather strap that held the Jewel. Pulling it out from under her blouse she held it dangling in front of her for Sally to see. Even though partially obscured inside the makeshift cradle that Michael had fashioned, it shone brightly, reflecting in Sally's dark brown eyes.

 

“Holy Mother of . . .” the detective was completely awed as she leaned slightly from one side to the other examining the orb. “What is that thing?”

 

“It's the Shikon no Tama, the Jewel of Four Souls,” Michael informed her. “And now that she has it, apparently a big fat can of worms has been opened up.”

 

“So it's not just a myth . . . How in the world did you get the Sacred Jewel, 'Gome?” The detective's gaze was locked on the Jewel.

 

“I guess . . .” Kagome faltered. “I guess because it's mine. Something to do with my fate.” She sounded resigned.

 

“Tell her the rest, Kagome.” Michael's voice had softened as he watched his best friend's expression turn grim. “She should hear it from you...”

 

“OK, so 'Gome has the Jewel now, what's the big deal? I mean . . .” and Sally thought for a moment. “It's not like she has to go hunting for pieces of it, right? It looks intact to me.”

 

“That makes it all the more precious . . . and dangerous,” Ouna supplied. “She's right, it's her fate . . . it's always been her fate.”

 

“Sally, there is so much to tell you, I honestly don't know where to start,” Kagome whispered, shaking her head. “Let me ask you a question.”

 

“Okay, ask away,” she prompted, lowering herself to also sit cross legged across from her friend.

 

“Have you ever felt like . . . like . . . we've met before? I mean when we first got to know one another. . .” Her eyes narrowed slightly as she watched Sally consider the question.

 

“Sure,” came the hesitant answer, “I did kind of . . . and when you introduced me to Michael I really felt it strongly then . . . it was kind of scary at first.”

 

“There's a reason for that,” Michael moved to them and lowered himself behind her wrapping his arms around her. “That dream you had . . . wasn't a dream, honey.”

 

She twisted around to look into his warm brown eyes, full of sincerity. Her own eyes were full of horror at the memory of the dream, which she had only just him told about, though it had been recurring for weeks.

 

“Wasps don't get that big,” she stated flatly, turning back around to look at Kagome. “And the wind doesn't blow that hard, not around here.”

 

“I thought you had wards up in your apartment, little one . . . “ her mother interrupted. “you said you did when we talked on the phone.”

 

“I did Momma . . . but I had to break the ones on the door when I left . . . I guess I didn't do it right,” she looked down at the bottle in her hands again.

 

“Wards?” Sally asked. “What is she talking about?”

 

“These . . .” and Michael pulled out one of the sutra and handed it around to her. “They are protection against youkai.”

 

“Youkai? You mean like the demons in the stories?” she queried, reaching out to take the slip of rice paper and examining it. “I saw some like this, on the windows and around the door frame . . . Oh surely you don't think that demons are chasing you, Kagome!!” Michael tightened his arms around her.

 

“How bad is the apartment, Sally? I mean . . . really?” She looked into the detective's eyes.

 

“It's bad . . . really bad . . .” a ghost of fear fleeted across the detective's features, as she pressed her her cheek against her fiancées encircling arm, eying the kanji on the paper.

 

“Kami . . .” Kagome finally twisted at the cap to open the bottle, smelling the contents. She wrinkled her nose before taking a deep swallow. “Then I guess it's time to go home,” she frowned.

 

“One more day, little one . . . give me one more day with you.” Her mother asked. “It sounds like it isn't going to get any worse than it is, and I need to explain some more things about your power.” She brightened, “And Selene can enjoy the spa and relax for a little bit!” She nodded to Sally, then more seriously to her daughter, “It's safer here, at least for now.”

 

“You can't go home, 'Gome . . .” Sally hesitated. “There's not much left to go home to.”

 

Kagome nodded sadly, acknowledging the seriousness of what she would find on her return. Sally reached over, placing her hand on Kagome's arm.

 

“You're coming home with me. I've got plenty of room, and you can stay as long as you need to . . . till you get everything figured out,” She announced. “And . . .” she looked at Ouna, “She'll be safe with me. After all, all that training I've gone through has got to come in handy for something besides just busting bad guys, right?”

 

A wolf howled in the distance, and Kagome shivered.

 

 

 

 

 

 

~ooO0Ooo~