InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Learning my way... ❯ Chapter 12 ( Chapter 12 )

 

 

 

 

Chapter 12

 

“Keitaro…?”

 

Keitaro felt himself being shaken awake as two familiar and comforting smells filtered through the sickening aromas of disinfectant, disease and blood that punctuated the hospital. His eyes fluttered open and he could see a wizened, salt and pepper haired woman crouched in front of him, a hand lightly resting on his knee.

 

“Baachan?” he whispered, blinking tiredly, surprise making his back stiffen and his bloody ears twitch.

 

“Yes,” replied Mama Higurashi, patting her grandson's knee reassuringly. Behind her, Souta was bending down, watching his face. The

 

“Hey Inu-otouto, you like you've been through hell and back…” said Souta quietly, taking a seat in the empty chair beside Keitaro's.

 

“Yah…” mumbled Keitaro, “How did you…?”

 

“This was sticking out of your pocket - the nurse looked up your name and phoned us,” replied Mama-baachan, holding up a tattered and blood-stained piece of paper. Keitaro squinted at it and realized that it was a piece of homework. Across the top, Higurashi Keitaro was written in his own, slightly messy and semi-cursive kanji script.

 

“How long have I been sleeping?” he asked, glancing around the ER's waiting room. Through the sliding doors, he could see blue skies and fluffy clouds dotting the horizon above the slightly brownish haze of smog that hung over the city.

 

“A good ten hours… one of the nurses was bandaging your arms when we got here and you didn't even stir, which shocked me - What happened over there Keitaro? No man with a knife could have gotten you this scratched up - What type of youkai was it?” Mama-baachan watched him, her dark eyes searching and concerned. She reached up to brush a lock of hair out of his eyes.

 

“Leopard…” replied Keitaro dully, slumping and idly scratching his bandaged arm.

 

“It was rampaging villages… Theory was that it had jewel shard - I don't know - Couldn't really tell…” He suddenly straightened, his ears perked up and his eyes lost their dead quality and were suddenly bright and glittering. “Where's Mariko? Tell me she's still alive,”

 

“She just came out of surgery - her parents are with her in the ICU,” replied Mama wearily. “She had major internal hemorrhaging and they tried to mend all the tendons and nerves in her left leg. They also had to put pins in her arm. The bone was completely pulverized and that's not even touching upon the mental trauma she's endured. She won't be the same person if she wakes up Keitaro… If she ever does - The doctors are not optimistic about her prognosis.”

 

Pain punched Keitaro in the gut, a feeling of regret and guilt so potent that it ate at his soul as he struggled to keep from breaking down completely. It wrapped itself around his heart and contracted like a python making its kill. He was numb. He couldn't speak as his head spun with the disjointed memories of the scent of blood and the murderous instincts that lay dormant just beneath the surface of his mind.

 

My fault…my fault…it was all my fault…

 

A low whine escaped his body without him even noticing.

 

The sound was pure inu-youkai; a cry of utter misery.

 

~~~~~~

 

“MARIKO! SOUUUUTEN! KEITAAARO!”

 

Shippou bellowed their names as he scoured the woods around the village, looking for signs of his three companions. The smell of blood was thick in his nostrils and he felt sick to his stomach. Some distance away, he could hear Miroku searching also, using his staff to wrestle aside uncooperative shrubs and bushes as he frantically combed the forest floor. Shippou fought the rising bile in his throat as he struggled to push his fears to the back of his mind.

 

Pushing through the undergrowth and calling the names of his friends did little to alleviate the sense of helplessness that had taken hold of his body. Every time that he shoved aside a new shrub or fern, he expected to see one of their mutilated bodies cast on the ground in front of him.

 

It wasn't until he nearly tripped over her, that he noticed Souten crumpled on the ground.

 

An immense wave of relief swept over him as he called for Miroku. Dropping to his knees next to the battered young woman, he looked her over for major injuries. No obvious wounds were present, save for a set of gashes on her back that had yet to start scabbing over and healing. He knew better than too touch her in order to check for internal injuries, having received far too many zaps in previous years. Cautiously, He picked up a stone and gently nudged Souten with it.

 

No response.

 

Shippou nudged her harder and felt a smile stretch out his face when she stirred, her scarlet eyes flicking open and her small, thin body stretching out involuntarily.

 

“Mmmmmph-'ippo?” He heard her mumble as she slowly turned to look at him.

 

“It's me Sparky,” he replied, surprised at how easily her old nickname rolled off his tongue. Instead of trying to take a chunk out of him like she usually did at the mention of that name, he saw the corners of her mouth twitch slightly, as if she was almost smiling.

 

“Five years…” she whispered, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment as she reached up an arm to rub them.

 

“Eh?”

 

“Five years… since you last…called me that…”

 

Shippou mentally counted back to when he had left her standing at the edge of the cliff above her long unoccupied home. He had been disgusted by her pride and blind self-assurance and blaming him for Koryuu's death had been the last straw. The small dragon youkai had been stalwartly guarding her back while she grappled with three angry fire demons that had ambushed them after they had inadvertently strayed into their territory.

 

He had been over ten metres away, dealing with four of them and trying to put out the blaze that one of them had ignited on his tail when Koryuu had been struck out of the air and engulfed by a fireball that had gotten by Souten's spinning Raigekijin. Shippou still didn't know why she hadn't responded or even acknowledged her faithful servants pleas for help when the said servant lay dying a mere metre away from her. She could have pulled away from the fight and fled with him, but Souten cared more about her honour than the life of a dear friend it seemed.

 

He had grieved for the red dragon more than Souten. When he had finally been able to function without remembering everything that reminded him of the cheerful little fellow, he had left her behind. He had vowed that he was never going to speak her name again, let alone the nickname that he had given her on a surprisingly dry summer night eight years previously when she had been reduced to receiving a painful zap from anything she touched.

 

“Five years indeed,” he replied, shaking his head slightly.

 

Light footsteps behind him alerted him to Miroku's approach and seconds later, he turned to see the monk batting a tree branch out of his way with smooth sweep of his staff. His mouth was a grim slash on his face and his violet eyes were brooding.

 

Miroku knelt down and made to touch the thunder demoness' shoulder and turn her onto her stomach but Shippou stilled his hand with a rapid movement.

 

“She'll zap you if you touch her. It's a defense mechanism.”

 

Miroku frowned and instead prodded Souten with his staff, pulling her away from the tree base. He winced when she suddenly became unstuck and rolled over twice, gasping and hissing from the pain.

 

“Stupid bouzu…” muttered Souten raspily, her eyes squeezed shut from the stabbing pains in her back.

 

“Gomen nasai” murmured Miroku as he set about surveying the demoness' injuries. After looking them over, he brought the hem of his robe to his mouth to tear it into strips to make a bandage.

 

“Don't bother,” muttered Shippou, rising to his feet. “She'll be on her feet by tommorow, we need to find Keitaro and Mariko,”

 

Miroku dropped the hem of his robes and reached into his sleeve, taking something from a pocket within and holding out his hand. In his palm, the mostly completed Shikon jewel glittered in the midmorning sunlight. “I found this in a clearing not far from here - there was a leopard youkai corpse. It will not be bothering the villagers any longer, but that's not what worries me.”

 

Shippou stared at the jewel in Miroku's hand as he struggled to keep his breakfast down.

 

“What do you think happened to Mariko and Keitaro?” he choked out, his green eyes wide with worry and fear.

 

“I can not say for certain, but I have my suspicions… I also found these…” From his robes, he produced Keitaro's katana, which was bent and a large scrap of the heavy cloth that Mariko and Keitaro's trousers were made of. It was bloody and reeked of the leopard's seed. Shippou recoiled in horror, recognizing the smell immediately.

 

“Bastard…” he breathed, his eyes suddenly becoming clouded with rage, “He will burn in hell!”

 

“We can only hope that Keitaro took Mariko back to their time,” replied the monk solemnly, “We will wait for Souten to recuperate, then return to our village and hope for Mariko's recovery… Women do not heal easily from such a crime, unless they do not remember it, and even then, it is difficult. I have seen and heard of such things before.”

 

~~~~~~~`

 

Keitaro sat limply outside the entrance to the ICU on one of the uncomfortable vinyl chairs that lined the waiting room's walls, waiting for Mariko's parents to come out. Most of his cuts begun to heal over, albeit slower than they usually did. Only a few of the larger gashes on his torso and his tattered ear had not started healing yet. Mama sat with him; her hand resting comfortingly on his arm. Souta sat nearby, his dark eyes darting around the anxiously as he wrung his hands. Concern clouded his normally bright eyes and he kept shooting Keitaro looks of encouragement.

 

Keitaro supposed he should be grateful for his uncle's support, but he couldn't bring himself to move or even acknowledge anything outside his numb and crying mind.

 

His gold eyes were trained on the large handle of the door, waiting for it to turn. It had done so three times already, admitting or announcing the departure of various visitors to those in the ward. Had Keitaro been in his normal state of mind, he'd have wondered who they were visiting and why, but now he couldn't bring himself to care. All that mattered to him right now was Mariko.

 

He hadn't seen either of Mariko's parents or even Akihiro since Mama-baachan had relocated him upstairs and he wasn't sure what he could say to either of them. How could he tell them that it was his fault- his fault- that Mariko had gotten hurt? Numbness and

 

The sound of the doorknob turning broke through his mental haze and he started as the scents of Kappei and Anna-Marie Fujita reached his nose. He rose to his feet, his ears flattened and his eyes downcast, a picture of instinctive submission.

 

“YOU!”

 

Kappei Fujita's stern face contorted as his eyes registered Keitaro's presence and before Keitaro could even comprehend what was going on, Kappei slammed him against the wall, a hand on his throat.

 

“What happened to my daughter boy?!” he hissed, his jet black eyes glittering malevolently, his veined and spidery hand tightening around Keitaro's neck. Surpressing the urge to throw Kappei across the room, Keitaro cleared his throat with effort. He tried to speak, but realized that no sound was coming from his mouth. Kappei's grip had cut off his air supply.

 

“TELL ME YOU LITTLE BASTARD! WHAT HAPPENED TO MY DAUGHTER?!” bellowed Kappei, his face flushing a crimson red, pulling Keitaro away from the wall for a millisecond and slamming him violently back into it. His mouth spewed epithets, curses and harsh questions.

 

“Kappei!” gasped Mariko's mother as a low rumbling noise echoed through Keitaro's body. He lifted his golden gaze so that it met the man's eyes straight on and the intensity of it stilled Kappei's black words. Keitaro took advantage of Kappei's momentary surprise and wrapped a clawed hand around the older man's arm, pulling his hand away from his neck with little effort and shoved him away violently. Kappei stumbled backwards into his wife, who caught and steadied him.

 

“First, don't touch me,” Keitaro ground out, a low rumbling noise reverberating from his chest, “Second - second…” his voice fled him, the strength that he had felt moments ago had vanished as quickly as it had arrived. He fought the desire to curl up in a ball and let himself die.

 

He took a deep breath and the rumbling growl abated as he collapsed back into the chair he had been sitting in.

 

“It was my fault…” he mumbled brokenly, staring at the floor, “I… let her go…”

 

“Of course it was your fault you little piece of crap!” barked Kappei, making for Keitaro's throat once more, but encountered a wall in the form of Mama Higurashi.

 

“You will stop your abuse of my grandson this instant!” she said firmly, her hands on her hips as she stood between Keitaro and Kappei, daring him to reply.

 

“Move aside!” demanded Kappei angrily as his face turned an ugly purplish colour, “He's the reason that my only daughter is floating in the realm between life and death! How could you know how that feels woman?! He deserves the same!”

 

“Don't you DARE insinuate that I do not know what is like to lose a child!” shouted Mama, her face reddening. Her fist clenched convulsively and Keitaro saw a small rivulet of blood run down her hand as one of her nails pierced her skin.

 

“You have no idea,” hissed Kappei darkly, cracking his knuckles.

 

“Why you-!” Mama started at the younger man, fists ready but Souta caught her arms and struggled to hold her still. The scent of her tears slapped Keitaro's nose and he sunk lower in his chair, guilt gnawing at him.

 

“My mother knows what you speak of better than anyone,” said Souta coldly, “My sister and brother-in-law died sixteen years ago - they were killed defending their village in the world beyond the well. My family knows the dangers of the feudal era better than any other in this day and age; So shut your fucking mouth.”

 

“Feudal era? What is that bullshit? You talking to me like you can time travel!” scoffed Kappei.

 

There was a pregnant pause, before Keitaro spoke.

 

“I can… and so can Mariko,” he said quietly, “There is a well in our shrine that dips directly into a time steam. Mariko and I can go back and forth between the present and the Sengoku Jidai. My parents were able to also. My father was born over 700 years ago and he was 226 years old when he was killed. Mom was twenty-three.”

 

“but…but… that isn't possible!” sputtered Kappei, “Time travel - being two hundred and twenty six?! It's preposterous!” He turned to his wife, his arms spread in disbelief as if he was asking for her support. Anna-Marie said nothing, her blue eyes pointedly studying the white linoleum floor tiles

 

“It's hard to wrap your head around since it's now obvious that you weren't told about the fact that we can time travel and that I'm a hanyou…” replied Keitaro, glancing up. His face was expressionless and his eyes were sharp as he watched Mariko's mother. Anna-Marie's shoulders slumped slightly.

 

“Hanyou-? That's crap boy. Demons don't exist anywhere except in legends.”

 

“They do exist,” replied Keitaro darkly, his claws shredding one of the poofy armrests of the chairs. “There's more than you'd imagine, especially in the Sengoku Jidai.” Both Souta and Mama nodded in agreement.

 

“You're delusional boy! Your entire god damned family is completely nuts! I don't know why I let my daughter associate with the likes of you. I expected more from a shrine family!” spat Kappei, his face flushing darker.

 

Suddenly, Kappei found himself slammed against the wall opposite and a strong hand lifted him off the ground by his shirt collar.

 

“Shut your fat mouth before I rip your tongue out,” growled Keitaro, his lip curled back into a wicked snarl. Kappei's voice opened and closed a few times before he realized that he was unable to speak. He gave up on a verbal means of assent and nodded vigorously. Keitaro let the man drop to the ground.

 

“Blame me all you want for what happened to Mariko,” he continued, his voice slightly raspy. “It was my fault. I accept the blame. Now leave my family alone. They had nothing to do with this.”

 

With that, he turned away and strode down the hall towards the large, heavy door that was the entrance to the ICU. It swung open to admit him and clicked shut behind him.

 

“He can't go in there!” blustered Kappei, but a hand on his arm stilled his anger.

 

“Yes, he can,” Said Anna-Marie quietly. “He deserves to, more than any of us.”

 

~~~~~~~

 

Days turned into weeks and still Mariko remained in the shadows of death. Her physical injuries were hanging in limbo as she lay still upon the hospital bed. The hospital staff was baffled, she was breathing on her own and her heartbeat was weak, but mostly steady, but her injuries refused to heal, refused to stop bleeding. Only her fractured left arm made any motions of knitting itself together in other to heal. The damaged tendons and nerves in her right leg had been given up for loss by the surgeons and the optimistic prognosis was that she'd be paralyzed from just above her knee, if she was lucky.

 

Keitaro surmised that the leopard youkai must have had a poison in his claws, for his own injuries to took longer to heal than normal. His tattered ear had taken nearly a week to heal, something that had never happened to Keitaro before.

 

Keitaro remained resolutely next to her, through out the days and nights. The hospital staff had given up trying to make him leave after he had fractured the arm of the security guard who forcibly tried to remove him. Mama-baachan had also stopped trying to make him go back to school, and instead had assignments collected and brought to him.

 

Keitaro wasn't sure how many days had passed since he had stumbled into the emergency room with Mariko in his arms, but after what felt like months, he caught two familiar scents in the air. A whiff of fur and magic and a hint of static electricity. Shippou and Souten.

 

He barely managed to stand up when Shippou peeked through the curtains surrounding the bed. He was dressed in jeans and a white T-shirt that read “I'm out of bed and dressed… What more do you want?” in English.

 

“Hey brother,” he remarked benevolently, his green eyes concerned, “You look like shit.”

 

“Brother… Since when do you call me that?” muttered Keitaro, a scowl on his face. He could barely tolerate the human male doctor's and nurses coming anywhere near Mariko. Any youkai near her was pushing it.

 

“Since forever… You're my little dog brother. It's what I called you when Kagome and Inuyasha were still alive,” replied Shippou with a shrug, “Sure, the younger me that you know right now might not call you that, but we're all assholes when we're teenagers, ne? Be happy to know that I grew out of it.”

 

“Keh!” snorted Keitaro, flopping back down onto the chair just as Souten appeared behind Shippou. Keitaro took in her appearance with raised eyebrows. Her black hair was drawn into a severe knot at the base of her neck and designer sunglasses hand been pushed up to the top of her head. A leopard print scarf was artistically tied around her neck and she wore a black pants suit and shiny black stilettos. What unnerved Keitaro to the point of twitching was how friendly she looked. The adjective Friendly combined with the noun Souten made Keitaro's head spin in confusion.

 

She had a small, close-lipped smile and her scarlet eyes were earnest as she raised a hand slightly in greeting.

 

“Hey… How's Mariko doing?” she asked, her face darkening as her gaze took in Mariko's prone form on the hospital bed, surrounded by beeping monitors and machines.

 

“Not good,” Answered Keitaro, his ears drooping as he reached out to tuck some of Mariko's thin, dark hair behind her ear.

 

As he opened his mouth to list her injuries, a flash of Mariko's bloodied body appeared in his mind and he was suddenly sent spinning as the memories of nauseating smells of that night ravaged his mind. The memories of the cloying, repulsive stench of the leopard's seed and the heavy, upsetting scent of Mariko's blood assaulted him and sent him to his knees.

 

He buried his nose in the thin, soap-smelling blanket that covered Mariko, trying to rid himself of the overpowering echoes that resonated through his mind. Forgetting that there were others present, he didn't fight the tears that welled up in his eyes and overflowed down his cheeks. He didn't notice Souten leaving and when he surfaced from the hole of misery that he had dug himself into, he realized that Shippou was still standing at the foot of Mariko's hospital bed, watching him with an unreadable expression on his face.

 

Jumping to his feet, Keitaro was suddenly overtaken by the desire to throw Shippou across the ward, but before he could even move towards him, the kitsune said something that stopped him cold.

 

“She's going to die Keitaro.”

 

Keitaro felt everything in his body come to a screeching halt. His heart skipped about a half dozen beats it as someone drove a knife into it and twisted it around. His throat closed and he felt as though his stomach had dropped to his feet as all the blood left his brain.

 

“How - do you…?” he managed to choke out, his hand darting out to steady himself on Mariko's hospital bed.

 

“You told me.” replied Shippou grimly, wringing his hands. His tail flicked back and forth nervously, the concealment spell on it shimmering with the motion. Keitaro stared at him, speechless, before his golden eyes became dark with pain as he turned to look at Mariko's still form on the hospital bed. He gazed at her for an indeterminable amount of time, before he glanced over his shoulder at Shippou, his face hard.

 

“Tell me how to save her - If I told you that she died, I must have told you how.”

 

Shippou watched the determination on his brother's face melt away into desperation as the minutes ticked by and swallowed the lump in his throat. Summoning up his resolve, he forced out the four words that would set the wheel in motion.

 

“I can't tell you.”

 

“WHY THE HELL NOT!?” exploded Keitaro angrily, bounding across the room and seizing Shippou by the neck and lifting him off the ground. Nurses from the nurses desk shrieked and jumped to their feet. One ran to slap the red button to summon security and the other two pleaded for Keitaro to set Shippou down.

 

“You… wouldn't… understand…” wheezed Shippou as Keitaro's hands slowly crushed his windpipe. The larger of the two nurses reached for Keitaro's arm, with the intention of prying it away. Keitaro elbowed her and sent her sprawling into the smaller nurse.

 

“I don't CARE! Tell me now!” bellowed Keitaro, squeezing harder. Shippou felt his heart clench when he saw the red beginning to bleed into Keitaro's eyes. He mentally cursed the potency of inu-youkai tempers.

 

“Fine…” he gasped, “Let me go - and I'll tell you how to save her.”

 

Keitaro grip loosened suddenly and Shippou unceremoniously dropped to the floor. He sat there panting for a moment or two, trying to replace the oxygen that had been used up by his lungs.

 

“I can save her?” demanded Keitaro suspiciously, crossing his arms and glowering at Shippou, his eyes narrowed. The nurses retreated to the safety of the desk as four burly security guards strode in. Both Keitaro and Shippou ignored them.

 

Shippou nodded wordlessly, his reddish bangs flopping in his face heavily as they were soaked with sweat.

 

“How?”

 

A low sound came from Shippou, to low for even Keitaro's inu ears to pick up. Training them forward, Keitaro glared at the kitsune.

 

“I didn't hear that,”

 

“Mark her…”

 

 

 

~~~~~~~~~

 

Author's note: I've been diagnosed with the beginnings of Carpal tunnel syndrome (inflammation of a tendon in my wrists…my hands get all numb and sore) from typing without proper wrist support and now I have to wear these annoying wrist braces 24/7 for probably the rest of my life….Which is kinda sad, because I'm only 15 and I still have like 70 years in me. Since I can't type for more than 20 minutes at a stretch without taking a long break, chapter updates will be even more sporadic. I'm sorry guys, but it gets real painful when I type for long stretches. (The only reason I'm not permanently sticking my computer in the closet for the next five months is that I'd go insane from pent up creativity streaks).

 

~Janna Lynn

 

To my reviewers;

 

Wolf lover

Sari-15

Roku kyu

Sueric >> lol, I just about squealed with excitement when I saw your review. I've always admired your work!

Broken Visage

Kyonarai

Tim creevey >> I can't say anything about there being lemons in this story. If there are any, they won't show up for awhile (LMW will be a +35 chapter story). Lemons aren't exactly something I'm very comfortable with writing, though I have tried and failed. Maybe sometime in the future one will turn up, but no promises.

Bakabokken >> I do have a grand master plot worked out, lol. It won't rear it's head for another few chapters though. As for Mariko's character, I have a hard time pinning her to - which is odd, since I'm the one writing her- When I originally thought her up, I decided right away that I would avoid giving her powers of any sort. No miko/youkai/heavenly being blood whatsoever and she'd be a normal person with slightly above average intelligence who didn't scare easily and had the accepting nature that comes from living in the 21st century. Beyond that, even I get a little shifty about details. She writes herself it seems.

Midnight Spirits

Raye sun