InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Inevitable ❯ Apathy ( Chapter 11 )

Disclaimer: I believe it's safe enough to say that we all know none of us own Inuyasha. Even me.

 

Author's Note: Oh my god…I haven't updated this 'fic in over a month! And I thought I'd be able to update this thing regularly… Apparently not.

 

Another transition chapter, and much, much thanks goes to Wendy and her ultra beta-supremeness, for which without, this chapter would be incomplete. All bow down to her now. Yes, you too.

 

 

 

Inevitable

 

Chapter 11

Apathy

 

 

 

I had lain in bed for what must have been an hour; lost in a thoughtless void where the only thing I had felt was emptiness, a great, consuming emptiness that I'd been threatening to lose myself in.

 

And it hurt.

 

I couldn't think - there were no thoughts - just that empty hole inside of me that swirled around in the pit of my stomach, twisting and turning in my gut, winding itself tighter and tighter, all the while my eyes staring, listless and unseeing, at the ceiling.

 

He could kill me.

 

Of course, I had always known he was capable of it; often enough, I had seen him take down a youkai with a single swipe, tearing it apart as if it were paper - effortlessly. I had, like the stupid little girl that I'd been, thought nothing of it at the time, hadn't given a moment's thought to how easily those claws could rip and tear me apart.

 

For years, I had witnessed him kill - humans and youkai alike - all with such ease, for him it seemed like breathing.

 

So naïve and stupid I had been then, and all those adolescent years before spent looking for shards.

 

It was neither Sango-chan nor Miroku-sama who came to relieve me of my thoughts, but - strangely - Hiroshi-san himself.

 

Three years before that inevitable confrontation with Naraku, a lord had been issued to Kaede's village, by what daimyo I can't now recall, nor remember from any of my history classes, but I doubt that really matters.

 

Mura-san, the village headman, had issued months before his arrival the building of a house on a much grander scale than any of the other houses of the simple village.

 

I had no idea what was occurring at that time, and it was Miroku-sama who took the liberty to explain - being the information gatherer that he was - but all throughout the months preceding this new `lord's' arrival, Inuyasha remained silent and withdrawn and moody, even more so than usual.

 

I remember the night I'd finally gone to speak with him, sitting down next to him without so much as a word, just as I always had.

 

At first, he'd said nothing - as he always did - but as the stars began to appear, he mentioned, trying to sound indifferent, what troubles our group would face once this new samurai arrived.

 

Confused, I had asked him why, and he, of course, did not reply until after another stretch of silence. Even now, I remember his words.

 

“He'll…he'll come in here and order us around. Samurai are all pompous bastards who think shit of anyone without a title and everything of their liege lord. He'll do the exact fucking same to us - he'll tell us what to do and make us give up our travels.”

 

I'd been shocked at his words, granted, but then I'd asked, why? still sensing there was something else he wished to say.

 

“Why the hell do you think why? Because he's samurai and samurai do everything better then us `common' folk. He'll think once he's here that he can decide where we go and what village we'll go to next, or he'll just get the idea that his own men can do the job.”

 

After that, I myself had remained quiet in thought, my own concerns beginning to grow, but after much thought and tense silence, I had asked him, is that all? because, with Inuyasha, there was always something more, something hidden.

 

And so he'd told me, in that gruff, embarrassed way he'd admit things:

 

“And he'll kick me out. I'm hanyou.”

 

I'd had no reply for that one, but I still remember the feel of his calloused hand beneath mine as I'd held it in a pathetic attempt to reassure him.

 

The months before the impending arrival of the samurai passed, and during that time the tension in our group managed to thicken and grow like the vines that tangled the inside of the Bone Eater's Well, to the point that Inuyasha wished to leave.

 

However, Hiroshi-san was not what any of us expected.

 

He was honourable - at least in accordance to Bushido, the samurai code, although in my opinion some of the things he did were not all that honourable at all, even if I was native-born Japanese. Time differences altered my views too much for that.

 

He was arrogant, to a certain extent, but then he was samurai, and with my limited encounters with samurai, I knew them all to naturally have a little of that haughtiness and apathy that came from power.

 

But…Hiroshi-san was…different, in that he was not pretentious or above the rest of us.

 

Hiroshi-san was in his forties when he originally came to the village with a wife and one consort, two sons and one daughter.

 

We saw him once at his arrival, surrounded by an escort of samurai, riding a horse with two younger men on either side (who we had later learned were his sons) and two palanquins behind them, no doubt carrying his wife, consort and daughter.

 

He'd smiled, greeted us congenially - we'd bowed, and then he'd gone into his house.

 

Not once had he ever come to us to give us orders or demand that Inuyasha leave. In fact, for the first entire month that he lived in the village, he never visited us at all. We only caught brief glimpses of him when he walked through the village, but nothing more.

 

It was not until later did he invite us for ocha in his home.

 

Miroku-sama was the only one of us who'd gone, he, of course, being the logical choice. Inuyasha, obviously, knew very little of etiquette or negotiating, Sango-chan was qualified well enough, but some of the taiji-ya views differed slightly from the rest of regular society, and I…well, I knew next to nothing of the proper way in which to treat a samurai, let alone how to `make arrangements' with him.

 

When Miroku-sama returned, it was not quite as we'd suspected.

 

He'd merely shrugged and told us that Hiroshi-san simply requested reports on our progress and wished to know of any threats to the village or his liege-lord should we happen upon any.

 

After that, the tension slowly dissipated, and every once in a while we were invited to dine with Hiroshi-san himself.

 

He was a wise man, with eyes that knew more than the lines on his face suggested, and his smile was strangely calming and contagious, even though it was slightly crooked and his front teeth were spaced too far apart.

 

Most of the village had acquired a great respect for the man and all that he did. I liked him, although I didn't hold his sons in quite as high regard. Ryota did not have the control his father did, and lost his temper rather easily even though he obviously struggled to correct it. And Kenji was…not necessarily unpleasant, but always withdrawn and quiet to the point that his presence made me nervous.

 

His wife, Naoko-san, was quiet and demure and much too traditional for me to feel at ease with in the same room, although his consort, plump and once-pretty Sumiko-san was much more pleasant and not as proper - so to speak - and her daughter, Yoko-san, was very similar to her mother, though much slimmer.

 

Sango-chan didn't get along quite so smoothly with Yoko-san though, but that was obviously due to Miroku-sama and his incurable habit of flirting. However, four years after Hiroshi-san's arrival, eighteen-year-old Yoko was married off and moved away. She came back often enough to visit her mother, though.

 

It was the sound of the shoji sliding open that had shaken me from reflection, and opening my heavy lidded eyes, I looked up to see the stout, but firm, figure of Hiroshi-san standing in the doorway.

 

And as I always remember him now, he was smiling.

 

“Hello, Kagome-san, how are you feeling?”

 

And I had wished then that his smile would just go away.