InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Inu Yasha in the Cupboard ❯ Mystery ( Chapter 4 )

M Y S T E R Y

It was funny when you listened to it - rain. It drizzled on like a thousand droplets splashing at a time, mismatched patterns of sound that could have had a whimsical message in itself assuming one takes the time to study its mystique. As they lightly fell on their unknowingly long journeys, the independent forms of water conjoined together upon meeting on the ground, trickling down slanted surfaces and gathering together in the depressions of the land as if forming miniature lakes, such as with the countless puddles that lay scattered on the temple grounds, rippling in a magical dance of circular movement every other second, as yet another traveler from the sky reunited with its lost comrades. How oddly common, natural in these months of Spring, yet fascinating unto itself, nearly poetic. Of course, it had been Grandpa who had taught me such a thing, taught Souta and myself, always stating that if we ever wanted to see something impressive, all we'd have to do was take one glance to the lush outdoors. But as he went on to explain his extensive methods of self-exploration and self-harmony, it was pretty sensible to say that Souta and I would eventually come to lack interest, for teaching children such spiritual concepts never did look promising at first. To us, a rock was merely a rock, clouds were simply clouds in amusing slow-moving forms, and what came to intrigue us could only hold our attention for a matter of minutes. But I figured, as we, or as anyone, grew older into less dynamic lives and into more methodical and predictable mindsets, it would only come to be a matter of time before Grandpa's words of wisdom would repeat themselves, finally working to unravel their secret meaning and unleash their fruitful benefits. And thus, on my way out I had stopped to observe the rain, to just observe its every movement play upon my senses. Of course, I had known days earlier that it would pour today, and that the echoes of thunder in the distance would come to be as foretold by our local weather channel, but even then, rain was no longer just rain. They were symbols now, each and every drop and sound and touch of coolness were all symbols to me, reminders of not just events, but emotions, most definitely emotions. It was easy to think of Spring as a season of bountiful birth and new growth, life-giving water to be showered upon the lands, as if a time of joy, and that was the way I had thought of it so much before. That was my association with rain. But no longer was that now the case, as I watched the spectacle ensue, for as I had decided just three days ago that rain was not a symbol of life, at least no longer was it for me. I couldn't think of rain in such a manner, for the last time I had encountered the downfall of nature's tears, it had not been for a gain of life, but a loss….

I jingled the keys within my right hand, allowing their metallic clanging and prodding against the surface of my skin to awaken me from the scenic trance, recalling suddenly the task at hand. The skies had turned gray in their weeping, the weather somewhat chilly, and the morning slipping so easily into the afternoon. Because of today's strange circumstances and the disagreeable behavior of the weather, there was nowhere to go and nothing for Souta or myself to do. Which is probably what led us to look over it, pure curiousity at work, youthful interest as a result of boredom and confinement to one's home for such a long period of time. Whether it had been mentally healthy for us two to have looked over the terms of the will ourselves, without the discretion of Mama, was debatable, but Mama had left it out on the table flat for the world to see, having also invited us to look over it, so what could really stop us? I hadn't expected anything much interesting to find with it seeing as our mother had already discussed all that I thought we had to know, but little did we suspect that she would skip out on a detail that even Souta had already been aware of…

I paused my thoughts for a second; having too, as I felt a warm body engulf my left leg, slightly damp fur rimming my ankles. Thankfully, I had already changed out of my umber office stockings and into nothing more but casual sweats, and thus I happily allowed Buyo to pace through my legs, as if walking about in figure eights, a rumble of purr still audible over the cry of the rain.

"Hey, how come you're not inside?" I crooned to the small yet aging fellow, squatting over and scratching him gently against his neck, his vocal expressions of gratitude increasing in volume as he returned my look with a simple feline gaze, yellow eyes blinking once to rid of the water droplets delicately hanging on his eyelashes like dew on a blade of grass. I noticed that he wasn't as wet as I would have expected him to be, so I picked the cat up in my arms for a massive cuddle, having to put some effort in lifting him seeing as Buyo's diet was just as ineffective as my own. I loved little Buyo, and I couldn't help but think that over as I cradled the eight year old, who with age became submissive to constant cuddles and lazy porch days, where he did just what I did now - observe. Buyo was never much of a wanderer, content with the landscape of the temple grounds, and sometimes just the house porch, rather than exploring any further than that, which went to explain how nearly dry he was - probably just having stayed under the wooden porch awning to shelter himself from the rain and watch the world flourish before him. With a last little kiss, I used a free hand to open the screen door, welcoming us to its usual screeching of hinges that were never oiled due to human unwillingness to intervene, which then got Buyo leaping onto the kitchen floor with a probable craving for turkey-flavored dinner.

"Souta! I'm letting Buyo back in, okay?" I called, poking my head back into the kitchen, yet not spotting my brother in sight. However, the lights were still on and the will, as far as I knew, was still where it lay upon the table surface, which meant Mama was still sleeping, or meditating, or whatever it was that she decided to do on her own time since she hadn't come back down to retrieve it. As for Buyo, he had inevitably directed himself on a one-way course to his awaiting meal, but instead found himself glaring in disappointment towards an empty bowl, licked clean by previous hunger hankerings. I decided to call for my brother again, "Souta?"

There was a sudden thudding of footsteps carelessly faltering down our stairwell, as I looked ahead to the hallway, where Souta suddenly emerged from the upstairs. His face seemed a bit flushed, almost even surprised to see me, and I could almost take a hint that he was trying to catch his breath. I couldn't help but enter into the kitchen to stare at him suspiciously from a few feet away, watching his every slightest move. There was something… off… about him.

"Souta," I gave him a look, hands on hip to complete the older-sister-lecture visage. "Could you be any louder? You're going to wake Mama at this rate!"

Glancing up the stairs, and then to me, he casually replied, "I just checked her room. She's already awake, she's on the phone."

"Is she really?" I couldn't help but say, allowing my hands to fall down to my waist, pondering over Souta's words, playing with the cool keys amongst my fingers. I hadn't expected him to say that, I figured Mama would be reading, or writing, doing something quiet and on her own, but on the phone? That was unexpected, even attempting to picture Mama willfully making connections to the outside world brought a surefire skepticism upon my point of view.

"Who was speaking to?"

"I dunno," Souta shrugged, his eyes drifting away from mine, as if he were anxious to return upstairs for whatever reason. That of course only worked to entice my curiousity, noticing tiny fragments of strange manners becoming more apparent with every passing moment.

"I thought you were going to the shrine," he said with a bit of a quaver to his voice, probably trying to turn the focus of the conversation towards me.

I took a breath, juggling the keys once, facing him in the eye as I walked slightly closer. It was strange that they weren't in Souta's possession, and I was still wondering as to why they weren't. After all, just short moments before he had been the eager one, the one who had awaited until our mother had disappeared off into her realms upstairs, to then snatch the will off the table and thumb through each of the pages carefully. I hadn't paid him much mind at first as I set out to wash our breakfast dishes, still in the mental shock of what had been previously discussed. Even now, I hadn't exactly hit the full reality of what Mama had spoken of. It still seemed somewhat dreamy, although not exactly 'sweet' so to say, a far off reality that I still thought was somewhat changeable, bendable for when I wanted it to be. I didn't want to move. I couldn't see myself moving, and a part of me felt that I, that we, wouldn't' have to. All the same, I knew that wasn't the case and what lay ahead of us was near to written on stone, but before I could dwell about all the upcoming hardships of it, Souta had interrupted me with a totally different focus, one that I had happily attended to, as to relieve my mind of the constant plaguing of the mere mention of financial trouble. What Souta would come to say about the will, as I would soon realize, would be totally unrelated to the problems, but added on a new feature: a mystery.

"Kagome, it's here, I knew it! Come see, sis, come see!" he had said, eyes having finally paused upon the fourth sheet, glued onto them as if it were the next issue of the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit calendar, persistently poking his index finger to the middle of the page, until I feared in a matter of seconds, there would be a nice fine hole to look through. Needless to say, I rushed to his side not so much to 'see', but to scold.

"For the love of it Souta!" I had scampered over hurriedly, absent-mindedly drying my soapy hands on my office skirt, yanking the important document away from him, frowning to see mountains and valleys of eternally-imprinted creases spreading out from the center of it, to where Souta had been so earnestly pointing to. "What were you trying to do? Rip it in half?"

"Hmph, you're the one getting it all wet," he had scoffed in return, standing himself and somehow managing to get the sheet away from me a second time, me having to hold back a shout of protest for at the time I had still believed that Mama had been sleeping. "Besides, you're not listening to me. LOOK at the sheet, who cares about the crimples."

Although as prepared as I had been to list about a thousand people who would mind if there were 'crimples' to decorate something as significant as the will, I too had been totally shut to silence as my eyes finally trailed to the direction Souta's fingers pointed, as he held the sheet up only inches away from my face.

"See that?" He had asked earnestly, voice full of excitement. "See write there in bold print? Right under the cash agreement."

"I see it," I had finally stated, trying to act rational as I pushed his arms down to get the document away from being the only thing in my view. "You get to inherit the ancient samurai swords, you're so lucky, those things are pretty-"

"No, no, no!" Souta had rolled his eyes, returning the paper to it's position just an inch away from my nose, surprising me that he didn't want to elaborate on his inheritance. Those swords had wooed Souta since he had first seen them, and it was to my curiousity as to why they hadn't been the subjects of his exhilaration.

"Not that. Look there. 'Kagome Higurashi (granddaughter) - 1 Oak Cupboard."

I had raised an eyebrow oddly, gently taking the sheet from him, and reading over what it was that he had mentioned. Then I had read it again. Then again. It was strange. It had been strange, peculiar, to see it there in print, this gift from my beloved grandfather that I had known nothing about until much later, many days since I had last seen him. I hadn't even gotten to thank him! Why hadn't I known of this? Why hadn't Mama told us of these things, these gifts… these heartfelt treasures?

"Why didn't Mama tell us?" I had raised my eyes to meet Souta's softly, seeing that his were just as alive and curious as mine were, strangely not finding depression or aggravation for once with that dreaded will, but a sort of… part. A part of Grandpa's loving being, his soul, that didn't lie in money or ink on paper, but within his last thoughts of us, his grandchildren, as he himself had decided that our memory of him would be left in what it was that we gained from him. And so, our hearts burned for these hidden memorabilia, for that part of Grandpa that would belong to us and us only.

"I'm not sure why," Souta had replied. "Maybe that's why she left it with us so we could find out for ourselves. But whatever it is, it's here. I've seen it before a while ago, it's over in the shrine, the main shrine."

"The main shrine?" I had echoed, allowing my eyebrow to rise even further. "You mean the Sacred Temple?"

"Exactly."

It had been at that point that I continued to wonder and further involve myself into curiousity about just what it was this whole "cupboard" thing was all about. It was then that I had immediately recalled Souta having mentioned it on the Friday night, something that we both probably forgot to follow up on. He had told me that he had known of it, because he had seen the cupboard before when our own grandfather had shown it to him about a year earlier, and had mentioned my name for a reason Souta hadn't been sure of. He figured that at one point or another; that little wooden utility of mysterious storage would come to belong to me, as it was now so proved by the terms of the will. As for the reasons why, or it's significance to Grandpa or myself, I figured we would soon come to know. That eventually got Souta to bring me the Sacred Temple keys form the corridor, since it usually spends it's time locked, being the most valuable part of our property, and had urged me to go on and check it out. For some reason, he hadn't tagged along, and now as I stood facing him with his restless expression having emerged from the upstairs, I still wondered as to why he had refused to see the cupboard with me.

"I was on my way to go to the shrine," I finally answered by stating the obvious, placing the keys on the countertop as I surveyed the kitchen for any means of a temporary umbrella. "But it's pouring out there, and I'll get my slippers all muddy. How about you put on a coat and shoes and come along? Those samurai swords are there as well. You an see them."

"Ah, that's okay," once again, Souta strangely refused, shrugging his shoulders as if not just moments before, he had been ecstatic about everything. "I think I'll come with you later, when the weather is better. I… I've got stuff to do right now that I need to get finished."

"Is that so? Just what are you doing?" I decided to be outright with it, not wishing to delay my curiousity any longer, having genuinely wanting his accompaniment but disappointed, needless to say, that he would turn it down for reasons I didn't understand. Then my eyes fell almost suddenly to his hands, as I noticed something I hadn't seen before. "Gee, Souta, what are you doing? Painting?"

I couldn't help but wonder the thought of him doing such a thing, as I came to study his right hand, blotched heavily with spots of red and white, his sleeves rolled to his elbows, grasping onto a red-tipped sable paintbrush that, if I wasn't mistaken, actually belonged to me. There had been a time a few months ago, when feeling unenthused as I had spent so long working, and not enough time learning, feeling rather experimental, I had purchased an interesting paint-by-instructions set. It had been motivating at first, allowing some of the contained creative juices to flow on canvas, yet it hadn't taken me long to figure out that there are quite a large of range of people. There are writers, readers, musicians, artists, athletes and so on and so forth. Amongst all of these, I didn't know exactly as to where I, Kagome Higurashi, respectively dwelled, but at that point in time, while viewing my painted trees that slightly resembled dismembered cheese-strings, I confirmed that I was most definitely and undeniably, not an artist. But then again, maybe Souta got the benefit of not having to share that trait….

"Um, yeah, it's just… nothing," he began to stammer, having my nosiness only come to soar as Souta's face came to flush with need of an explanation.

"Ah, c'mon, what is it? I can tell you're trying to hide it from me," I continued to urge, striving so desperately to use his puppy-dog tactic against him. "Tell me, pleeaase?" At that moment, I had already managed to walk up right to him, poking him gently on the shoulder with my finger, pouting my lip and directing my eyes to the paintbrush, eyelashes fluttering in what I figured was a nicely pathetic rendition of needy, nosy irritancy. I had no idea as to how well it would work, but it did manage to get Souta to let out a sigh.

"Sorry Kag, but it's a surprise, I can't tell you yet."

"Well, why not?" I couldn't help but mumble with disappointment to an answer I hadn't wanted to hear, that puppy-face transforming instantaneously to a bit of a scorn, bratty almost, as if to try and win some sympathy, or a leak in his secrecy. "If this thing is so important to ya, it can't hurt to tell just one person, namely your loving big sister."

"Ha, nice try Kagome," Souta shook his head without any form of lenience to my situation, hand placed on the railing, already starting back up the stairs. "Look, just go outside and get the cupboard. I promise soon after I can show you what I've made. Then it will all make sense."

"What will all make sense?" I continued to persist, feeling totally at a loss on the situation as I wondered about it. Would Souta really be done finishing whatever he was doing by the time I retrieved the cupboard? And why on earth couldn't he just come with me, it would only take a matter of minutes anyhow. It was such silly strangeness I didn't understand the meaning of, couldn't tell the importance to, but still desired to know all the more. It was as if everyone was hiding something, and everything was hiding even more, leaving me to frustratingly ponder just how it was I got stuck in the midst of all the odd happenings.

"Souta, come back," I called with frailty, but it was already too late as I continued to whine for my brother's return, watching only as he slipped out of view from the second floor, rolling up his sleeves as they had started to come down. But then at the top of the second floor hallway, I spotted my younger brother leaning himself over the guardrail, staring back down at me, myself feeding him the absolute best of my "don't you feel sorry for me" looks. He gave a bit of a smile.

"I'm not going to tell you, Kagome. For now, let's keep it a mystery."

"A mystery?" I scoffed, blinking once then seeing my brother was now gone, having disappeared to his own room where I had heard the door shut slowly. As I stood there uselessly for a second, my ears became enticed to something else. It couldn't be - a laugh? It was strange to think it, to even come to try to familiarize with such a sound, but it was, it was a laugh! And no ordinary one at that, it was Mama's laugh, ringing almost happily from within her own room, where I heard soft murmurs of her voice speaking to someone that didn't reside in this house - not to Souta and not to me - but someone else… on the other line of her phone call.

I didn't know what to think, what to do or what it was that I should say but I did know this much:

1.) My brother was confining himself to his bedroom with a set of miscellaneous paints, for reasons I didn't understand, that would somehow "make sense" of everything

2.) My mother was in her room, as she usually was in her time of seclusion as a soft-spoken, hard working, yet for the present time, usually depressive, tired and agitated woman who needed her moments away from the world. However, although she had once been so filled with a serious and dramatic tone, she was now enjoying a carefree laugh with whoever it was on the other end. It surely couldn't have been family (namely, it couldn't be Uncle Tsutomu) and as for anyone else it may just be… I hadn't a clue.

3.) And lastly, as I made my way back into the kitchen, quietly, amongst my thoughts, retrieving the Sacred Temple keys which I had left upon the countertop, I knew that there was something awaiting me in that divine place, something that was destined for my hands and only mine… a cupboard of all things, its purpose I yet didn't know, as our entire family lay looking to a future filled with unanswered questions.

Needless to say, Souta's decision to name it as it was felt entirely appropriate. Considering the circumstances, taking in account all of the unknowns, there was only one way to define such a strange scenario that longed to be solved: mysterious.

To Be Continued...