InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Home for the Holidays ❯ The weather outside is frightful... ( Chapter 1 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Home for the Holidays

1. The weather outside is frightful…

Higurashi Kagome looked around the unfamiliar forest in confusion. ‘Maybe,’ she thought, ‘this wasn’t the very best idea of my life.’ She paused for a moment in a futile attempt at getting her bearings. Realizing that she should have reached the little village she’d come to think of as a sort of second home long before now, she stared around at the darkened forest, searching the snow-covered trees for any sign of a familiar landmark.

She should probably have gone back home for warmer clothing when she had first arrived here in the Sengoku Jidai and found herself in the middle of an especially violent late-December snowstorm. Since it was only a few minutes’ walk to the village, she elected to continue with her original plan and deliver the brightly-wrapped packages that were safely stashed in the bottom of the massive yellow bag she habitually carried.

She was starting to worry--she should have arrived at her destination quite a while ago. If she had somehow gotten turned around in the storm, she could be heading deeper into the forest full of youkai. Turning around wearily, she trudged through the deepening snow in an attempt at retracing her steps back to the well that provided her access to this world. She made rapid progress at first, following her own tracks in the snow. After a few minutes, though, she lost the trail--the thick snowfall combined with the icy wind swirling through the forest to erase any evidence of her passage.

She was beginning to see that she was in real trouble. She should have made her way back to the well by now. Of course, she could have passed within six feet of the structure in a storm like this and never realized it. Although she had been glad that she had forsaken her very short school uniform in favor of jeans and a sweater, she was no longer so certain that it was such a good idea--the soaked denim was a dead weight, slowing her progress and leaching the heat from her slender body.

Her extremities had gone from cold to numb to a burning pain. By the time she decided to retrace her steps, her feet had started to feel like blocks of splintered wood. Still she shuffled along, finally realizing that she was in very real danger: wandering aimlessly through the snowy woods, teetering on the brink of hypothermia--and nobody knew that she was even there.

She struggled on, pushed along by the certain knowledge that she would not survive for long if she stopped moving. Her incessant trembling had stopped, as her body could no longer spare the resources to maintain the shivering that slowed the heat loss from her body. Blinking furiously to clear her vision of the ice crystals forming on her eyelashes, she staggered and fell. Breathing hard against the frigid air that burned her lungs, she pulled herself to her feet, heedless of the darkness encroaching on her field of vision.

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The small hut on the edge of the little village looked just like any other in the region from the outside. Anyone from outside the immediate area who looked inside, however, would have received quite a shock. In addition to the elderly miko who resided in the structure, there was a fairly large group huddled around the fire pit in the center of the main room. The attractive young man sitting next to the old woman looked ordinary enough: though his robes of purple and black proclaimed his status as a fairly low-ranking Buddhist monk, his shiny black hair worn tied into a small tail at the nape of his neck combined with expressive violet eyes and a roguish grin to give him a not-entirely-trustworthy look. The woman sitting across the fire from him wore a typical kimono, although closer inspection would have revealed some tight clothing of unfamiliar design partially visible beneath the normal female garments when she moved. Though she wore a smile of sorts, her eyes were shadowed, the smile rather distant and sad.

This was where any resemblance to a normal gathering ended. The young woman with the sad eyes sat silently, gently stroking the small animal curled into a purring ball of fur in her lap. At first glance, the creature appeared to be a kitten, until closer inspection revealed the two tails typical of a firecat youkai. What appeared to be a small child snored softly next to her leg, although no human child ever possessed those pointed ears, paws, or bushy fox tail.

Although it was uncommon for humans and youkai to associate closely with each other, it was not unheard of. By far the strangest inhabitant of the hut was the restless figure clad in red that stormed about, cursing the weather that had them all confined there. Though he would have appeared superficially human to a casual observer watching from a distance, his long silvery-white hair and amber eyes would have raised suspicions at the very least. The fact that this same individual also possessed claws, fangs, and triangular canine ears perched at the top of his head would have confirmed that he was in fact hanyou.

That fact, more than anything else, would have shown an observer exactly how odd this little group actually was. Accepted by neither youkai nor humans, hanyous were scorned and reviled. For one to be permitted not only to remain in the vicinity of a human village but to also be accepted as an equal by people of both races was absolutely unprecedented.

Pulling back the door covering to see that the storm had actually intensified in the past few hours, the hanyou glared out into the darkness. He began to turn back to resume his pacing when he uttered an especially imaginative curse and darted out the door. The others sprang to their feet in an attempt to see what was happening, but the brilliant red blur had vanished without a trace.

Inuyasha raced through the forest that bore his name, cursing fluently with each touch of his bare feet to the frozen ground. What in hell could the stupid bitch have been thinking? He ran and leaped through the trees in a blur of motion, eyes alert for the slightest hint of anything out of the ordinary against the backdrop of whites and grays that made up the silent forest--the intense cold and driving snow made even his inhumanly acute hanyou nose next to useless.

Without entirely realizing it, he allowed himself to be guided by some inner sense--he knew in what direction he would find the foolish girl. The only thing he didn’t know for sure was whether or not she would still be alive when he found her….

Coming to a sudden halt in a thickly-wooded part of the forest, he stared around with wide eyes. She was here…somewhere. He could feel it. Taking a deep breath to slow his pounding heart, he studied his surroundings carefully, striving to see the shapes beneath the thick covering of snow.

He turned in place slowly, scanning the whiteness around him for anything that looked at all out of place. He probably never would have seen it had not a lump of snow fallen from a high branch overhead. The small lump hit near the top of a large pile of snow and rolled down, exposing a narrow streak of brilliant yellow. Digging frantically through the snow, he breathed a sigh of relief when his claws revealed a soggy mass of black hair. That relief was short-lived, though, when his acute hearing picked up the hoarse, raspy sound of the girl’s breathing and the weak, thready beat of her heart. Biting back a genuinely vicious curse, he scooped the inert figure up and raced back to the village.

The others waiting in the hut looked up in amazement when he pushed through the door, his burden held tight against his lean body. As the others leaped to their feet to offer their assistance, the hanyou backed toward the door, snarling, “Get out.” As the group shuffled out of his sight into the hut’s other room, he stopped the elderly miko with a hand on her arm. “Not you,” he grunted.

Ripping the overstuffed yellow bag from the unconscious girl’s back, he laid her on a woven mat near the fire. “I don’t know what the hell was going on in her head, but she came here in the middle of the storm. It looks like she decided to try getting to the village instead of going back home, but got turned around somehow. I found her in the middle of the forest.”

The old miko looked at the motionless figure next to the fire. “She’s half frozen,” she said. “The first thing we should do is get her out of those wet clothes--they’re keeping her from getting warm again.” She hesitated. Rather than make a move toward the girl, she looked to the young hanyou to take care of the matter--she hadn’t missed the flickers of red in his amber eyes when he chased the others away. Clearly, there was something more going on than they would be able to understand. “These old bones aren’t quite up to the task, boy--you’ll have to do it. Unless, of course, you’d prefer to have Sango and Miroku take care of it.”

Blushing furiously, the young hanyou reached for the yellow bag while the old woman busied herself with her herbs. If nothing else, she would begin preparing a restorative broth for when the girl regained consciousness. After removing the blankets in the bag, he began to work at the unfamiliar fastenings of the girl’s clothing. Quickly growing frustrated with the button and zipper on the saturated jeans, he sliced through the stiff fabric with his claws, carefully peeling it away from her clammy skin.

Trying not to look too closely at the skin he was uncovering, he couldn’t help but notice that, despite the red, abraded look of the tender flesh hidden inside the soaked denim, she didn’t quite have the bleached white look of frostbite. Still, he wasn’t at all happy about the bluish tint to her lips or the ashen look of her skin--if she didn’t get warm soon, it was possible that she would never recover.

Wrapping the limp form in two of the blankets, he laid her as close to the fire as he dared before taking up his position next to her to keep watch. Every once in a while one of the others stuck a head into the main room, but his fierce growls caused them to retreat immediately. It was, he decided, going to be a long night.

The winds continued to howl and the snow, now mixed with icy pellets, continued to rattle against the walls of the structure. Still, there seemed to be no significant improvement in the girl’s condition. After more than three hours of waiting, it became clear that the measures they were taking were inadequate. Even though he had wrapped himself around her icy body beneath the blankets, it was clear that his presence was doing little to warm her.

Obviously, there was only one solution. With one eye on the doorway and the other on the girl who occasionally moaned and moved fitfully in whatever dreams plagued her, he quickly stripped off his clothing and slipped under the blankets, covering them both with his firerat haori. Rolling onto his side, he pulled her to him, her back against his chest, feeling her body pulling the heat from his own. Suddenly overcome by a combination of stress, the fear of losing the first person to accept him as he was since his mother’s death, and the fatigue brought on by racing through the storm and then using his own reserves of energy to warm her limp body, he slept.

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The hanyou opened one eye slowly, realizing that daylight had broken and that the storm had ended. Although the girl seemed to be starting to regain some of her body heat, she showed no signs of waking from whatever kind of dreams held her prisoner. Sniffing delicately, he realized that the others had left the hut, and that a simple meal and a kettle of the broth the old miko had prepared the night before were left close at hand.

He was troubled that he seemed to have little actual memory of the time after his arrival back at the hut with the girl. It was obvious that he had been trying to help her to regain her body heat, but he did not remember making any conscious decision to do so. Reaching out to the food left nearby, he was surprised beyond measure to discover that he was wearing nothing but skin that was rapidly turning a brilliant shade of red that rivaled his normal clothing.

Raising the edge of the blankets, he realized that he was equally unclothed below the waist. Clutching the blankets tighter against him with his free hand, he tried to extricate his other arm from its position wrapped around the girl without waking her. If she were to wake up and find him there like this, she’d ‘sit’ him into a coma.

Aware on some unconscious level that the source of the warmth that had been sustaining her was moving away, Kagome squirmed uncomfortably, pressing herself tighter against the firm surface behind her. Biting his lip to stifle the deep groan that the sensation of her skin sliding against his own inspired in him, he stared around in desperation, searching for some escape route. He always made it a point to wake long enough before the girl so that he could get his rebellious body back under control before having to face her at her most beautiful--eyes still half asleep, hair disarranged, stretching in a way that revealed enough to show that she was no longer the child she had been when she had first arrived in his world.

If she were ever to find out about the reactions she inadvertently caused in his body….

It simply didn’t bear thinking about.

Satisfied that she was not likely to awaken any time in the immediate future, he slipped from the blankets, pulling on his creamy white kimono and red hakama. Surely no one would think it unusual that he had allowed her to sleep wrapped in his haori--he had done it often enough in the past.

Once the old miko returned with the bucket of water she had gone to fetch, he darted out the door, calling back over his shoulder for her to keep an eye on Kagome until he returned.

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The hanyou raced through the silent forest, strangely glad for the frigid weather conditions. Although he had often been relegated to bathing in the near-freezing rivers in a largely futile attempt at easing the burning ache the girl’s constant nearness caused in him, that would probably not be necessary today. He sprinted through the forest, making certain that nothing troublesome had moved into the area during the storm, before settling down to hunt. Although the village had plenty of food stored, it was far too early in the season to have to rely on those supplies that would probably be needed later on.

Finding a small herd of deer huddled in a relatively sheltered clearing, he brought down two of the older bucks with ease. It was likely that a fair number of them would die of starvation and exposure before spring, and this would allow the younger, stronger males to breed with the remaining does next year, thus strengthening the herd as a whole. He remembered Kagome saying something about this to that damned monk once--she called it “natural selection,” or something like that. He knew that it would have surprised the others if they knew that he paid attention to everything she tried to explain from her lessons. Hell, they probably didn’t even know that he could read….

After dragging the carcasses to the very edge of the forest nearest to the village, he quickly gutted and skinned the animals, preparing them for cooking. He took the heads and skins to the village tanner before cutting the meat into pieces for distribution. Leaving a hindquarter at the old miko’s hut, he passed through the small village like a shadow, leaving some of the food at each of the small huts, beginning with those who had the largest families and those whose men had been taken in the wars. As was usually the case, there was sufficient food to give each of the families in the village at least a little something to help them get through the worst of the next couple of days.

Now that the responsibility he had assumed for the welfare of the villagers had been fulfilled, at least for the present, he returned to the hut in which he had left the finest part of himself. The fact that there had been no particular improvement in the situation came as no real surprise, but that only gave him further cause for concern--why the hell hadn’t she woken up yet?

That very question was clear on his face when he went inside to present the old woman with the food he had saved for their group. She shook her head slowly as she set about preparing the meat for roasting over the fire in the center of the room. “I don’t know, either. It’s almost as though she doesn’t want to wake--now and again she speaks, but I don’t recognize most of the words.”

He nodded, deep in thought. “Must be something from her home. Half the time I don’t understand what the hell she’s talking about, and I’ve been there.”

Noticing that the young hanyou’s ears were flattened to his skull so badly that they were almost completely hidden in his mass of silvery hair, the old woman asked, “You were gone a long while. Are things out there so bad so early in the season?”

“It’s not that,” he muttered. “I made a quick pass through the forest, and there wasn’t anything there that shouldn’t be. I also stopped by the well.” At her questioning glance, he continued, “It’s completely filled with snow, probably from the winds last night. Even with help, it’ll take quite a while to clear.”

Old Kaede gave him a sympathetic look. “She’ll not take this well.”

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It was well into that night--more than twenty-four hours after being brought into the miko’s hut--when Kagome finally regained consciousness. Not yet even partly alert, she gradually became aware of a comfortable warmth surrounding her, penetrating her chilled body to the core. At the feel of the warm and slightly rough firerat fur against her skin, her eyes flew open in shock--she always wore at least a little something to sleep, just in case she had to get up in the middle of the night and ran into one of her family members. Lying still, she concentrated on the evidence of her senses--the scents, sounds, and feelings that could give her some hint of what had happened.

Cracking her eyes open, she could see nothing but darkness at first. As her eyes gradually became accustomed to the low light levels, she realized that she was looking up at a thatched surface overhead. A faint reddish glow barely visible out of the corner of her eye told her that there was at least the remains of a fire nearby. The silence was nearly overwhelming: there was not the faintest sound of traffic anywhere within earshot. The only sound she was really aware of was a soft rumbling sound close at hand. While it was something she was positive that she had never heard before, there was something vaguely comforting about the sound all the same. All she could smell was a faint scent of wood smoke mixed with some kind of roasted meat and a wonderful, wild scent much like that of a pine forest after a thunderstorm.

Now that she had realized that she was indeed naked, she was painfully aware of every sensation against her skin. She could feel the comforting weight of the blankets over her body, but couldn’t identify the greater weight across her middle. Although it was a significant weight, it didn’t feel uncomfortable, or even confining--it was all she could do to keep from grasping the source of the weight and pulling it even tighter against her body. She could clearly feel the slightly rougher blanket beneath her, obviously not one of the ones that had been treated with fabric softener and machine-dried back at the shrine. There was something else, though, something firm and smooth and warm pressed firmly but not uncomfortably against her skin on her left side.

It was only the combination of the smoothness moving slightly against her skin and a hard--something--that was almost hot enough to burn digging into her hip that made her realize exactly what kind of situation she was in. With a tiny, breathless shriek, she jolted upright, the blankets falling to pool around her hips.

Staring around in confusion, finally aware that her surroundings were, in fact, familiar. But if this was Kaede’s hut, then who…?

Turning her head slightly, she could see faint glimmers of gold in the darkness, and groaned inwardly. Sometimes life just wasn’t fair: here she was, apparently in a position she’d been dreaming about for more than two years now, and she hadn’t even been conscious enough to enjoy it! When she could get up the nerve to speak, her voice was faint, hesitant. “What happened?”

“Stupid wench. What the hell were you doing out in a storm like that? You damn near froze to death before we even knew you were here.” Though the words were harsh, the tone was more one of concern than anything else. She shook her head as much as she could given her position. That couldn’t be right, could it?

“It was only a short trip--I didn’t know storms could be so bad here. By the time I figured out that I was in trouble I was so turned around I probably would never have found either the village or the well.” After a brief pause, she continued, “Why are we…?”

This time a soft chuckle preceded the reply. “I told you--you were almost frozen. Your clothes were soaked. We tried just getting you undressed and wrapping you in the blankets next to the fire, but that didn’t seem to be helping. I got under the blankets with you, but my clothes seemed to be keeping the heat from getting to you. There didn’t seem to be many options left.” After a long pause during which she could almost see the ears flattened to the top of his skull, he continued, “Are you mad?”

Kagome thought about that for a few seconds before answering. In truth, she was a lot of things at that moment--surprised, touched, even more than a little horny--but mad wasn’t one of them. “No, I’m not mad.” She looked around the small structure, then frowned thoughtfully. “Where are the others?”

She could feel the hanyou’s face heating. “When I brought you here, I wasn’t exactly…myself. I forced them into the other room. They must have left the next day before I went out to hunt.”

That didn’t sound good. “The next day? How long have I been here?”

Although he was sure that she wouldn’t take the answer well, he shrugged. “I brought you in here a little more than a day ago. It’s well past midnight of the day after you came here.”

The overwhelming scent of her unshed tears assaulted his sensitive nose. “That means that today will be December the twenty-fourth on my calendar: Christmas Eve.”

Reaching into the massively overstuffed bag in which she often brought supplies and the occasional little surprise from her world, he extracted the small book with the odd numbered pages she used to keep track of time while traveling through the countryside. Looking at it closely, he nodded slowly. “That’s right.” Not at all liking the inflection in her voice when she spoke, he asked, “Why? Is there something important about this day? Do you have a test or something?”

She shook her head sadly. “No. It’s nothing like that. Christmas Eve is a holiday where I come from. There are parties, and people give each other gifts--it’s mostly for little kids and young couples.” She gave him a sharp look. “You don’t remember? I told you all about it a few weeks ago.”

He looked away. He remembered the conversation clearly, although he hadn’t been able to hear exactly what the girl was saying--he had been sulking up in the branches of a high tree near their campsite because she had mentioned that she wanted to return to her home for a few days. “I remember,” he muttered.

Sitting up, he reached over to where the small kettle of broth had been left next to the fire to keep it warm. Pouring some of it into a small bowl left nearby, he pulled her tight against his body so that he could feed her the restorative liquid a little at a time. After she had consumed almost two bowls of the rich liquid, her eyelids began to sag--one of the effects of this particular broth was to help a weakened patient sleep so that she could regain her strength.

Once he was satisfied that the girl was well and truly asleep, he eased himself from the blankets and retrieved his clothing from where it was neatly folded on the other side of the fire. Opening the curtain that kept the weather out, he slipped out into the village. Following his nose, he found the abandoned hut where the monk, taijiya, and kitsune were sleeping. Somehow or other, he seemed to have made a mess out of things yet again without even meaning to. To make things right, he needed information, and he needed it fast.

Deciding that the monk would probably have the most useful information, he crept into the hut and clamped a hand firmly over the young man’s mouth. “Not a word, monk. Just come with me.”

Recognizing the voice that hissed in his ear, the young monk started to relax, allowing his wide, startled eyes to return to normal. He nodded briskly before unwrapping himself from the blankets and following the silver-haired shadow into the hut’s storage room. “What is it? Is Kagome-sama all right?”

“Yeah,” the hanyou grunted. “She’s okay. She woke up and drank some of that broth Kaede-babaa made. She’s sleeping again.” He looked around at the walls, the floor, anywhere but at the monk. “What’s this ‘Christmas’ thing all about?”

The young monk carefully concealed a smirk. So that’s what this was all about! He thought back to the conversation of several weeks previous, when the miko from the future had told them all about the wonderful customs of her time. “It’s a celebration they have shortly after the winter solstice. People decorate their homes, and even bring pine trees inside to decorate with bright colors. There is a feast--usually some kind of chicken dish--and gifts are exchanged between friends and family.”

The hanyou nodded absently. While this information was interesting, it wasn’t quite what he had in mind. Perhaps, he decided, he needed a different perspective. Releasing Miroku to return to his bed, he moved across the low-burning fire to where a young woman lay sleeping, her firecat youkai companion curled against her for warmth. Realizing that Sango’s training as a youkai taijiya would make her dangerous if she was startled awake, he whispered to the small animal at her side. “Kirara?”

The firecat mewed softly and butted her head against her companion’s chin, purring madly. The woman opened her eyes to see the glowing amber eyes of the hanyou watching her intently. “I need to talk to you for a minute.”

Curious, Sango followed him to the storage room. “What’s wrong? Is Kagome--?”

He shook his head emphatically. “No. She’s okay. She woke up for a few minutes, but went right back to sleep. I need to know what she told you about this ‘Christmas’ thing they have in her world.”

Sango couldn’t for the life of her imagine why the frequently surly hanyou would want such information, but could see no reason not to answer. “It’s a very important night for young lovers. Girls hope to spend the evening with the one they love. They usually go out for a meal together, and might even spend the whole night together. They exchange gifts, and sometimes they come to a permanent understanding.”

“What kind of gifts do they give each other?” This was more the kind of thing he wanted to know.

The taijiya shrugged. “Lots of different things. They’re usually not very large, or expensive. Most often they’re things like simple jewelry, scarves, stuffed toys--things to show how they feel about each other.”

The young woman stifled a yawn, and her companion was almost--but not quite--apologetic. “Go on back to sleep. I was wondering what was bothering her. I never thought it would be something like that.”

Before he could head back to the old miko’s hut, he heard a small sound from the doorway. The young kitsune that his group had unofficially adopted peered out at him, brilliant green eyes gleaming in the darkness. “You shouldn’t listen to them, you know.”

Although the hanyou would have preferred to ignore the kit, it was true enough that he spent a great deal of time with the young girl, and often acted as a confidante. If he thought that the others had sent him on the wrong path, perhaps he should hear what Shippou had to say. “So, what the hell do you know about it?”

The young youkai gave him a long-suffering look. “Christmas has nothing to do with lovers and all that crap. It’s all about little kids and Sandy Claws.”

That sounded very strange--Kagome had always told him that there weren’t any youkai where she came from. “What kind of claws?”

The kit shook his head. “That’s his name, baka. He’s this old guy who goes around the world on Christmas Eve and leaves gifts for all the good little kids.”

“He must be a youkai--no human could travel that far in a night, even with the machines they have in Kagome’s time.”

The kitsune looked suddenly thoughtful. “You could be right. Kagome said he’s been around for hundreds of years, and humans don’t live anywhere near that long.”

“What kind of youkai do you suppose he is?”

Shippou shook his head. “Couldn’t tell. From what Kagome said, nobody ever really sees him, but he’s said to have this long white hair and a red suit.”

Nodding absently, the hanyou headed back in the direction of the old miko’s hut, deep in thought.Converting /tmp/phpgVi2Ab to /dev/stdout