InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Okaeri ❯ Chapter 14

Disclaimer: Inuyasha and associated characters are the property of Rumiko Takahashi.

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Chapter 14

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With a growl of frustration Inuyasha dropped the lid of the last chest; it thunked shut, the sound magnified by the silence of the well house. Just more crap. Dust hung in the air, making his nose itch, and now he had stirred up more of it by slamming the lid. He turned to Kagome to see if she'd had better luck with that last crate, and found her sitting on the bottom step leading down to the dirt floor of the well house, her head in her hands.

 

“Kagome?” The irritation gave way to concern for her.

 

“It's all right.” Her voice was muffled. “I just hoped…I can't believe we've gone through all of this stuff, and for nothing.” She laughed, a short and bitter sound, and looked up. “Well, not for nothing. Jii-chan could open a museum if he wants.”

 

Inuyasha walked over and sat down on the nearby crate with a sigh. “So we didn't find anything else. Maybe there ain't anything to find.”

 

“So you're saying we should give up?”

 

“Fuck no.” He shot her a glare, but she looked defiant, not resigned. “We can still look for the runt, it'll just be harder with a cold trail and no tracks to follow.”

 

“Yeah.” Her intransigence subsided into a sort of weary despondency, and she fell silent. His attention wandered to the piles of various materials now scattered over the crates and floor around the old well.

 

He had an idea of what a museum was—some place to keep high-end junk, is what it sounded like—and if so there really was some museum-grade stuff here. Paintings, screens, trinkets, delicate ceramics and other breakables…he had no use for those kind of things. They had found some other items that he certainly thought were worthwhile…

 

“There's still some good shit here, Kagome,” he said encouragingly. “Those swords,” and he nodded at a couple of beautifully made, high-quality blades, laid out with care on top of a crate, “and the yanone. You could use those.” The steel arrowheads lay in a pile near the swords. He hadn't cared to touch some of them, and had let Kagome handle them instead; they had radiated spiritual power. His gaze slid over to the rifle that they had found in the doorway of the hidden storage room. Kagome's grandfather had brought it back here after making a huge fuss over the thing. Now, cleaned and oiled, the gun gleamed dully and all the metal parts moved smoothly. Kagome had even found a tightly sealed box of `bullets' for it, though Jijii seemed to think they were too old to be trustworthy.

 

“Hm.” Kagome propped her chin on her hand, and looked over at the arrowheads. “They are really nice. Maybe I should make some arrows…I'm glad Kaede-baachan taught me how.” Heaving a deep breath, she rose to her feet. “I have to start thinking of worst-case scenarios for our little field trip to Michiko's house anyway.” She wandered over to the open trunk containing the letters and shrine records, and flipped through some of the documents idly.

 

She needs a better bow, he thought. Since she insisted on going on this stupid mission, he'd be damned if she went less than totally prepared for trouble. She had a short bow, adequate, but not really good. Too bad she had left a better one back on the other side of the well. He had found a couple of bows among the things in here, but they hadn't stored well—the wood was too dry and cracked for her to depend on.

 

He looked at the yanone again. They might give her an edge—if she would only use them. “That old hag taught you how to make bows too, didn't she?”

 

There was no response, and he turned to see her reading over Mushin's letter again, probably the tenth time she'd done so. “Kagome?”

 

“Damn it.” Dispiritedly, she let the letter drop into the trunk with the others. “I can't believe this is all there was.”

 

He frowned. “It ain't that surprising. How many times you think the shrine has burned between then and now? You're lucky there is this much stuff. And there's still the pile of shrine records—you barely touched those.”

 

She eyed the packages of tiny, crabbed writing, mildewed and grimy, with disfavor. “I know, but…those are going to be hard to go through…and it seems to be mostly lists of births and marriages. Not like a letter. Plus they're gross.” She moved back to the steps and sat down heavily. “Maybe that's hoping for too much, but I keep thinking...why couldn't there be a least one more thing that they touched? Anything.”

 

Inuyasha recalled the roll of paper he had found earlier, Shippou's drawings; he had put it behind one of the crates. Useless, but… He retrieved it now, and held it out to her wordlessly. She looked up questioningly at his face as she took it, and unrolled it over her lap. She gasped when she saw what they were; he sat down carefully beside her and put an arm around her as she held one hand to her mouth, her eyes shining with tears. With his other hand he held one edge of the sheaf to keep it from rolling back up.

 

“When did you find this?” she asked, tracing the name Shippou on the edge of the outermost sheet with trembling fingers.

 

“Earlier,” he mumbled.

 

She gave a little hiccupping laugh. “Well, I'm glad you found it, but I wish you had showed me, earlier.” She paged slowly through the roll, stopping at pictures of Miroku and Sango, continuing through the rest. She looked up at him, her wet eyes shining in the dim light. “I'm so happy you found these, Inuyasha. These are worth the effort.”

 

“I guess,” he said dubiously. But if it makes her happy… “It's good that they're still here.” He stroked her hair soothingly. “They don't lead us anywhere, though.”

 

“I guess not.” She flipped through them again, carefully this time. “I remember Shippou showing me some of these. The rest…they look like they could have been done around the time we were there—before the well closed. Or at least everybody looks the same. And actually, going by appearances, none of them look like they were done much later. There's no way to tell with the landscapes, though, and I don't know who this is.” She pointed at the drawing of the unknown girl. “Do you?”

 

“Nope,” he said, shrugging. “Some local kid?”

 

She frowned down at it. “I don't think so, but then I didn't know every person in the village. I wish I had.” Her lips compressed, and felt her shoulders tremble in silent grief.

 

“Kagome, come on.” Inuyasha hugged her closer to his side. “You can't live in the past. At least not anymore,” and he saw her smile despite herself. “You'll drive yourself crazy, wishing you had done things differently, when you can't change a thing,” he murmured. “You know that as well as I do.”

 

She nodded. “I know. That doesn't stop me from wishing.” She leaned into him, one hand reaching up to wipe her eyes; she let the papers curl back into a roll. He took the roll and with his free arm set it down on top of the nearest crate.

 

He had a sudden desire to get out of this dismal little building, now permeated with the stink of failure, and get a breath of air. They'd been in here for hours, and it was dark outside. Kagome had brusquely refused when her mother had called in that dinner was ready, too intent on searching the cache. Abruptly he scooped her up in his arms and, ignoring her patient query about where they were going, went up the steps to the doorway, where he paused.

 

The earlier rain seemed to have washed the skies, and it was crystal-clear and cold. The stars blazed with unusual brilliance in the metropolitan sky, and the icy, waning moon hovered distantly on the horizon. It was a beautiful night to be outside.

 

He glanced down at the girl in his arms; she looked back up at him, eyebrows raised questioningly.

 

“Want to go sit for a while, Kagome?”

 

She frowned. “I've got to study--”

 

“Come on. You've been studying. Take a break, why don't you.” He added cajolingly, “I know a nice spot, you'll like it.”

 

She smiled. “Okay. But just for a little while.”

 

Inuyasha leapt to the roof of the well house and from there jumped to the trees behind it, his grip on Kagome secure. He had thoroughly explored this small grove, and quickly made his way through it to the other side of the hill, facing northwest, away from the shrine and the brightly lit city to the southeast.

 

On this side the pines had given way to fragrant cedars, growing densely together until they ended abruptly at a short bluff. Directly below was someone's forgotten garden, overrun with leggy camellia bushes still covered in late blooms, silvered by the dim light of the stars. He found his perch, a sturdy horizontal branch extending from the trunk of a large tree over the dropoff. It had an unobstructed view of the landscape sweeping down the hillside into the plain, and away to the far-off mountains. There were no tall buildings nearby to block the view, only low houses; from here the patterns of the stars above could be discerned with slightly less interference from the glaring lights of Tokyo.

 

“Wow,” Kagome whispered, her eyes gleaming as she took in the vista before her. “How come I never found this place?”

 

“Knew you'd like it,” he said, pleased by her reaction. He set her down carefully, making sure she had her footing on the bark of the wide limb, then pulled off his haori and wrapped it around her snugly. He sat down against the trunk of the tree and, looking up at her, extended an arm out in invitation. There was just enough room for them to sit together here at the widest part of the branch, if she didn't mind squeezing in…

 

With a small, reflective smile, she seated herself next to him. He put his arm around her securely, and she snuggled into his side with only a quick look over the edge to the ground below. Once she was settled, he tilted his head back to view the panorama above them. With a soft exhalation she laid her head on his shoulder, following his gaze to the heavens.

 

“If there were more stars, I could almost believe we were back in the Sengoku Jidai,” she whispered. “Things were so much less complicated there.”

 

He acknowledged her with a grunt. They lay together quietly for some time, looking up at the stars wheeling above them. Laying here, her softness of her body pressed closely against his, the warm scent of her hair in every breath, he felt awash in contentment. He could even say he was…happy. The world narrowed to this point in time, this small space, this woman, here with him. Nothing else mattered.

 

She was silent for so long, that he thought she might have been falling asleep; he was surprised when she spoke.

 

“I'm sorry I haven't spent a lot of time with you lately,” she murmured.

 

“Hmph. You ought to be,” he replied reflexively.

 

Her expression was contrite as she turned her head to look at him. “It's all the work for school. You'll see, it'll be nice once I finish high school and start college, then I'll have more time to spend with you.”

 

If anything, his contentment grew at her words. “I suppose I can forgive you then,” he said, and caught her smile. “Though I thought college was more school,” he added lazily.

 

“It is, sort of. It's more in depth schooling, but you get to pick what you want to learn about. It's also supposed to be a lot easier than high school, once you get in. Less pressure.” She snuggled even closer to him and turned her head to lay her cheek on his shoulder, her eyes half-lidded; she sounded sleepy. Maybe he should take her back. He was loath to end this moment, though; he held her tighter, nuzzling her hair. “It's supposed to help you find a job afterward,” she continued. “I'm still trying to decide what I want to do.”

 

“Why do you have to do anything?” Only half-interested in the conversation, he kissed her forehead, her bangs tickling his nose. “You could just live here.” And be with me.

 

She chuckled. “I guess I could, but it would sure be a waste of all my work in school.” Her fingers ran idly along the edge of his shirt, up to his neck, and brushed lightly against his cheek. His heart beat faster.

 

“Told you it was a waste of time,” he said distractedly. He let his hand stroke up her arm towards her shoulder, feeling the warmth of her skin under the fabric. Her fingers were in his hair, now, combing through the strands that hung over his shoulder onto his chest.

 

“Inuyasha!” she laughed. “No, really. I want to do something important with my life.”

 

He snorted softly, despite his preoccupation with her hands, her touch. “You think you haven't done anything important? What about the last few years? Naraku? The Shikon?” His fingers wandered up past her shoulder towards her back, rubbing in gentle circles, gradually pulling her towards him.

 

She made an impatient noise. “Yes, that was definitely important. But I was talking about my life here.” Suddenly, she looked a little lost, and her eyes wandered from the sky down to the horizon, as though the weight of this world was pressing down on her. “I want it to, you know, have meaning,” she murmured. Her hands stilled.

 

Don't stop… He swallowed. “You mean more than anything to me, Kagome.” He raised his hand to softly trace the curve of her cheek, drawing her face up toward him. He wanted to kiss those soft lips, just inches away. He wanted to drive that haunted look from her features; he would do anything, anything, to make her happy.

 

She stared up at him, eyes huge and dark; they slowly closed as she reached up to him. “Inuyasha,” she sighed, and her lips met his. The world narrowed even further, to just Kagome and himself.

 

Feeling this closeness to her again…this was what he'd waited for and wanted for so long. He loved her so much, and to feel her love, demonstrated in the simple gesture of letting him touch and hold her, feeling his emotion returned…This was the home his heart ached for. He buried himself in his senses, venturing with lips and hands; slowly at first, shyly exploring heretofore unknown territory, and aware of her, at first hesitantly, and then more confidently, responding in kind. They paused from time to time, in discovery and murmured delight.

 

The moon had set and the world was dark and still when finally, by unspoken, mutual assent, they broke off and pulled apart slightly. Kagome rested her forehead against his, her eyes closed, stroking his hair and face with gentle hands. “You mean everything to me, too, Inuyasha,” she whispered. “I'm not ever letting you go. Whatever happens, I'll be with you.”

 

He tightened his grip on her fiercely. “You'd better be,” he growled, and kissed her again. He relaxed his hold slightly but kept her securely in his arms, nuzzling her face and neck, and felt her lips, curved in a smile. They lay together quietly for some time, and he reveled in their closeness.

 

“Are you comfortable? Warm?” he murmured, feeling her shift slightly. The temperature seemed to be dropping, not that it was cold enough to bother him.

 

“Very. Well, mostly comfortable. I keep feeling like I'm going to slide off the edge here.”

 

“I wouldn't let that happen, dummy.”

 

She shrugged, a little grin quirking her lips. “I know.”

 

“Well, how about this, then…” He lifted her so that now she was between his legs, leaning against his body, with both of his arms wrapped around her. Looking over her shoulder, she gave him a knowing smile, and he blushed. “Well, you definitely won't fall off this way,” he said defensively.

 

“Definitely not,” she agreed. “Are you warm and comfy?”

 

“Very,” he breathed, as she settled against him. Together they watched the constellations march across the sky; after a while her breathing slowed, and he felt her relax into sleep.

 

I'll never be cold as long as you're with me, Kagome. Warmed by his contentment, he watched the brilliant stars for the rest of the night, holding her close to his heart.

 

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In the growing light of chilly pre-dawn, birds were just beginning to rouse and twitter in the woods behind them, and Inuyasha was enjoying a light semi-doze when he was abruptly awakened. Kagome suddenly sat up, shaking her head slightly in confusion, but then looked back at him and smiled.

 

“Good morning.” She leaned back to kiss him. For a long moment he forgot to breathe. Then she pulled back, smiling again softly, and he inhaled.

 

“Guess it is a good morning at that,” he said. Her hair was mussed, her eyes puffy, but she had never looked more beautiful to him. He could have sat there for a while just staring at her, but she looked over to the sight of the sun just now peeking over the horizon, and a look of alarm crossed her face.

 

“Oh no. I hope it's not as late as I think it is.”

 

“Eh? What's the matter?”

 

“School, Inuyasha. I'm going to be late, and I didn't even study at all yesterday!” She began struggling to her feet.

 

“Keh.” Trying to conceal his disappointment, he got up and turned away, presenting her with his back. “Stop your crying, you'll get there on time. Just get on.”

 

“Inuyasha?” She wasn't getting on, and he turned to face her with some puzzlement mixed with irritation. He was surprised and delighted when she seized him in a tight hug. “I don't really want to go,” she mumbled into his hair, and then pulled back, “but I kind of have to.” She looked apologetic. His expression softened.

 

“Then quit wasting, time, wench.” He scooped her up and jumped off the branch, feeling her arms wind around his neck, and headed off. He whisked through the dew-covered woods, through the shrine precincts, to her house. He was setting her down at her open window when she gasped softly.

 

“What now?”

 

“I hope Mama or Souta didn't notice that I wasn't in my room last night. It's not like I'm able to go through the well any more.” He peered through the window, brows lowered, as she climbed in; it looked undisturbed and the door was closed. He sniffed, but there was no indication that anyone had been in here lately but Kagome herself.

 

“Don't worry about it, Kagome,” he said. She flicked him a glance before she dug in her closet for a clean uniform.

 

“Easy for you to say. Mama wouldn't yell at you,” she said with a wry grin. She came back to the window, leaning up to kiss him lingeringly. “I had a wonderful time last night.”

 

“Me too.” He would have liked to extend the kiss a little longer, but she broke off regretfully.

 

“It's not as late as I thought, but I still have to fly to get ready. See you later?”

 

“Damn straight,” he grinned, and dropped down off the window ledge to the ground. He could smell breakfast already.

 

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Inuyasha was lolling indolently in one of the pine trees that afternoon, waiting for Kagome to get home. Some of the bare trees around the shrine complex were starting to show the bright green of spring growth, but for the time being the pines afforded the best concealment.

 

Bored, he was passing the time observing the people coming and going, when a pair advancing up the steps caught his eye; seconds later the wind shifted, bringing him the scent of them both. One of them caused him to bolt upright. That fucking kitsune brat Yasei was down there, in human form. He was escorting an old man; the man had a walking stick in one hand and was holding on to Yasei's arm with the other as they slowly reached the top of the stairs.

 

The nerve of that little fucker, coming here. Inuyasha frowned down at them, then slowly his lips stretched in a smirk. He cracked his knuckles. Maybe this afternoon won't be a total loss.

 

He nearly launched himself off the tree towards them before remembering that he wasn't wearing anything to conceal his ears. He glanced at the pair again, and gauged their slow progress; he had time. He dropped straight down, landing almost noiselessly on the muffling carpet of pine needles underneath, and darted through the concealing brush towards the house.

 

It only took a couple of minutes for him to emerge, baseball cap pressing his ears down, but he saw that Jijii had beaten him to the pair. He was having a hearty laugh with the other old man, while Yasei stood aside with a bored look on his face. Jijii must have been expecting them, to have got out here so fast. Inuyasha sauntered over towards them and three sets of eyes flicked to him with varying degrees of surprise.

 

“Ah, Inbe, this is that friend of Kagome's I was telling you about. Inuyasha, this is my friend Inbe Gosei, the head priest at the Tokozawa Inari shrine.”

 

“Hey.” Inuyasha nodded at the priest, who nodded back, his regard intent, almost assessing. Inuyasha was wary of the unusual attention, but he was currently more interested in the youkai at the old man's side. Yasei was coolly and rather insolently appraising the hanyou right back.

 

Jijii harrumphed, scowling at Inuyasha, and continued, “And this is a young man serving at the shrine---“

 

“We've met,” Inuyasha said, baring his teeth at the snotty punk in an edged grin.

 

“Yes,” the kitsune agreed, standing slightly beyond arm's length. “Nice outfit,” he sneered, glancing at the decidedly non-modern fire-rat haori and hakama. “Going to a festival?”

 

“Yeah, the festival of kicking kitsune ass. What's your excuse?” Inuyasha returned, with a pointed stare at the purple coveralls the kid was wearing. Evidently it was his favorite color.

 

Yasei's face darkened, but Inbe quickly cleared his throat, giving the boy a warning look and a flick of his eyes toward Jijii, who was frowning bemusedly.

 

“And here I thought I knew every matsuri celebrated in the entire Tokyo prefecture. Had you heard of that one, Inbe?” He looked like he might pursue the topic of the unknown kitsune/donkey festival, but Inbe seemed to be well acquainted with Jijii's mannerisms and quickly changed the subject.

 

“Er, no, Higurashi. Say, weren't you going to show us those shrine treasures that young Kagome and Inuyasha here discovered? You were just telling us they'd been moved.”

 

Jijii's face cleared, and he smiled broadly. “Oh, yes. Come along and I'll show you. Inuyasha has moved it all to the old well house.” He started off and the rest of them followed perforce. Inuyasha walked directly behind Yasei, who was escorting Inbe; the kitsune flung a suspicious look over his shoulder at the hanyou, but Inuyasha walked decorously, his hands hidden in his sleeves and an innocent expression on his face.

 

“By the way, where is Kagome?” Inbe remarked. “She visited the shrine not too long ago, and I missed her. We need to speak anyway.”

 

“She ain't here.” Inuyasha turned his gaze to the priest with a hint of suspicion. “What do you want to talk to her for?”

 

Jijii said, without turning around, “She should be home soon from school, Inbe. And Inuyasha, of course he needs to speak with her. Kitamura-san has asked him to investigate the house that is claimed to be cursed; Kagome will be accompanying him.”

 

“Eh?” Him? That feeble old man? Ridiculous. Inuyasha regarded him critically; the old guy could barely walk without the assistance of a stick and a kitsune to prop him up. Inbe was supposed to be the hotshot exorcist that Kagome was supposed to be learning from?

 

Perhaps feeling the stare, Inbe turned his head to look back at Inuyasha, a slight smile on his lips. “You may wish to wait before passing judgment, Inuyasha-san,” he murmured.

 

“I know an old fart when I see one,” he grumbled to himself. Yasei's back stiffened indignantly, and a slight grin turned up one corner of Inuyasha's mouth.

 

They reached the well house, and quite a production was made of getting the two creaky old men down the stairs. Both Inbe and Yasei seemed awed by the mounds of junk strewn around that Jijii was smugly showing off.

 

Inuyasha watched them from a crouch at the top of the steps as they wandered around. He had tuned out Jijii's droning on about the historical significance of this and that and was actually paying more attention to scents and sounds coming in from the courtyard outside, in hope of a prompt appearance from Kagome. His attention jerked back down when he saw they were looking at the weapons. Inbe picked up one of the arrowheads and examined it admiringly.

 

“Higurashi, what a find you have here.” He gestured at the room. “All of it. Your father was very wise to hide all this when he did.” He put down the yanone and picked up the rifle reverently.

 

“An Arisaka rifle. I haven't seen one of these since the war.”

 

“My father's,” Jijii said proudly.

 

“Does it work?” Inbe sighted down the bore of the rifle with every sign of expertise.

 

Jijii sighed. “I'm not sure. I've cleaned it up, but not had a chance to test it.”

 

“Well, I have a membership down at a shooting range. Let me know when you want to try it out. It looks like there's a box of bullets over here…”

 

Inuyasha's attention drifted again when his nose picked up Kagome's scent—she wasn't far off. Deciding that they'd be occupied in here for a while, he went off to find her.

 

She was on the street, just approaching the steps to the shrine when he bounced down to meet her. She greeted him with a grin.

 

“Knew it was you.” She took his hand and they began climbing the steps together. “How was your day?”

 

“Boring. Well, wait.” Briefly he outlined the visitors' arrival to the shrine.

 

Unaccountably Kagome brightened. “Oh, you mean Inbe-ojiisan is here?”

 

He stared. “You know that old geezer?” At her nod, he said, “Then you know how fucking decrepit he is. Get this, the old guy is the one you're supposed to help with exorcising that fucking house.” He glowered. “I don't like it. How much help is he supposed to be?”

 

They reached the top of the steps and headed towards the house. “Maybe he could help a lot, Inuyasha,” Kagome said thoughtfully. “He's pretty well known for resolving possessions. That might not be the same as a possessed house…that's what I was hoping to learn.” Entering the kitchen, Kagome greeted her mother, who was sitting at the table with a newspaper, drinking a cup of tea.

 

“Inuyasha says Inbe-ojiisan is here, Mama,” Kagome said, dropping her schoolbag on a chair.

 

“Really? I'd better make some more tea, then.” Mama folded the newspaper and got up. “Why don't you bring him here when they're ready, Kagome.” She gave Inuyasha a smile and headed for the stove.

 

Inuyasha followed Kagome back out and walked with her towards the well house; he could see the small group just stepping off the porch of the building and heading in their direction. Kagome greeted Inbe warmly, and Yasei with some surprise.

 

“Kagome! How nice to see you,” Inbe said heartily. “I heard you came by the shrine to visit, and you didn't stop in to see me?”

 

Kagome blushed, embarrassed. “I'm sorry, Inbe-ojiisan. We got distracted.”

 

He smiled. “So I heard. We need to have a long talk, don't we?”

 

Kagome looked startled, and darted a glance to Yasei, who rolled his eyes. “Oh. I guess we do.” She gestured. “Please, have some tea with us, Mama will be happy to see you. And we have to talk about Kitamura-san's, um, problem. Right?”

 

They were nearing the house when Inuyasha's head swiveled to the steps, catching yet another scent. Why the hell do they all have to come here today? he thought grumpily. A man's voice called from across the courtyard, “Higurashi-sama!”

 

Startled, both Kagome and Jijii turned around, to see Kitamura just coming over the top of the steps. They all stopped and waited as the man approached at an awkward run, sweating and gasping. He looked…desperate, thought Inuyasha. Had something happened? Next to him, Kagome clutched his sleeve apprehensively as they watched him draw near.

 

He reached them and couldn't speak for a moment, drawing huge breaths, bent over with his hands on his thighs. Finally he straightened, looking imploringly at Kagome and Inbe. “Please,” he gasped, “I need your help right away. Right away!”

 

Inbe stepped forward, a concerned expression furrowing his brow. “Why, Kitamura-san. What brings you here in such a hurry? I thought that little Michiko was safe?”

 

“That's it,” he blurted. His face was twisted in distress. “She called me a few hours ago at work, hysterical. Said she couldn't get through to her mother out in Saitama since yesterday—she'd been trying all day, she was afraid something was wrong. I told her to calm down, it might be nothing, problems with the phone line. I called back later, and she wasn't answering. I tried my sister's line next, and got nothing—it wasn't going through, just as she said.” They were guiding him over to a bench at this point; he lowered himself down tensely.

 

“So then I got worried. Went home early to check on Michiko, and found a note—she said she was headed out there to see if her mother was alright!”

 

“Damn!” Inbe appeared to be thinking hard. Kitamura looked up at him, frantic, and jumped to his feet.

 

“It would take at least a couple of hours to get there by train—she might be there by now! Please, Inbe-sama, Higurashi-sama—please, we have to hurry!”

 

Kagome was clearly anxious for the man; his face was white and sweaty, and she urged him to sit back down on the bench. “Please, Kitamura-san. Calm down. Of course we'll go.” She bit her lip, exchanging a glance with Inbe, who nodded to her.

 

Damn that silly little bitch Michiko, Inuyasha fumed, grinding his teeth when he saw Kagome's distress. Why the fuck didn't she stay in one place? I didn't think she'd be dumb enough to go back there.

 

“Now, just slow down, Kitamura-san.” Inbe put a reassuring hand on the man's shoulder, and regarded him seriously. “This might mean nothing. She could be perfectly fine. Why don't we wait, and call your sister again in a while? Surely if there's a problem with the phone line it won't take too long to resolve.”

 

“Let me try again.” Kitamura got out a cell phone and punched in a number, waiting tensely. His face showed surprise and relief. “It's ringing! Just as you said!” Then he brightened. “Hello? Kyoko, are you there? Michiko? Hello?”

 

Waiting for a response, the relief slowly drained from his face, leaving disappointment in its wake. “Maybe it's not fixed. It sounds like someone picked it up, but I don't hear anything.”

 

Focused on the phone, neither Kitamura nor Inbe noticed the alarm registering on the faces of the hanyou and the kitsune. They stared at each other as they, and apparently only they, heard the eerie, breathy voice that emerged from Kitamura's phone.

 

“When I'm done here, I'll come for you, worthless mongrels and traitors. And after that, they willall get what they deserve.” There was an abrupt click, and then silence. Kitamura tapped a couple of buttons and shook the device.

 

“Huh. Now the phone's dead,” he said, frowning.

 

TBC

 

 

Glossary:

 

Yanone - Japanese arrowheads, sometimes made of folded steel and tempered like swords. The more ornate varieties were often given as presentation pieces.

 

Matsuri - A festival, usually sponsored by a local shrine or temple.