InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Okaeri ❯ Chapter 22

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

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Chapter 22

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Inuyasha stared, tensely frozen, at the spot where the door had been, but his thoughts were spinning at a frantic pace, his heart pounding in an agony of dread and fear. Kagome--the shrine--

 

His first impulse was to start running, but the part of his mind not panicking swatted the impulse down. Even at his top speed it would take hours to run from Kyoto to Tokyo. He had minutes.

 

His eyes flicked to the kitsune surrounding him, and he focused on Hanae, who was looking over her bedraggled and beat-up troops, smelling of blood and not looking too good herself. Abruptly he was in front of her, and grabbed her by the shoulder straps of her armor, yanking her off her feet.

 

“I've got to get to Tokyo,” he growled into her face. “Fix that fucking door. Now.”

 

She glared at him, her expression somewhat offended, but she remained still in his grasp and didn't struggle. “Let go of me,” she hissed, teeth bared. The other kitsune reacted angrily; in unison they pointed their weapons at Inuyasha, growling. Yasei grabbed his arm, but Inuyasha shrugged it off.

 

“What the hell do you think you're doing?!” Yasei yipped. “Let go of Hanae-san! Now! There's no way to fix the door! It's gone!”

 

“Bullshit.” He couldn't afford to believe it. He would make it work, damn it...

 

“It's true, Inuyasha. The door that was here was taken down by its creator, Soen.” Hanae looked him in the eye, her voice calm, even, and firm. He couldn't help but believe that she was telling the truth, and his breath froze in panic and despair. There had to be something...

 

He tightened his grip as an idea hit him. “Then build a new one,” he snapped.

 

She stared back at him. “I could,” she said in a measured voice. “But it would take all night. And I don't think we have that kind of time.”

 

Despite himself, his shoulders slumped. “You'd better not be lying, bitch,” he bit out, but her expression was serious and even sympathetic. Desperation began to rise, and once again he thought of running to Tokyo. What else could he do?

 

The chop-chop-chop sound overhead broke into the frantic circling of his thoughts, and he looked up with a snarl at the interruption. It was one of those flying carts he had on occasion seen in the skies over Tokyo. The machine was circling, and a bright beam of light speared down from it, sweeping along the ground, searching. The kitsune around him reacted nervously as the beam came closer, crouching closer to the ground as they stared up at the thing.

 

“Damn it, we've got to clear out,” Yasei swore. “That's not a police copter, that's military.”

 

Hanae, seizing on Inuyasha's distraction, grabbed his fingers and peeled them off her armor in one quick twist. She stepped back, dusting herself off fastidiously. “Inuyasha, I realize that you have compelling reasons for wanting to go back to Tokyo. Believe me, we need to get home too. Soen is capable of causing great destruction and chaos," she said grimly. "But we can't do anything about the door that's gone. And I can't build a portal very quickly, or without some preparation.”

 

Her eyes tracked the beam of light as it got closer; it was almost upon them. She gestured sharply to the others, and as one they abruptly turned into a clump of withered bushes. Hanae grabbed his wrist and she herself appeared to go invisible. No, not invisible; she had blended perfectly into the background of the park like a moth against tree bark, fading into the yellows and browns of the dead trees and grass. The light swept over them briefly, blindingly, and moved on without pausing.

 

He stared after the receding beam, puzzled. It didn't see him? Hanae gave his arm a little shake, and he looked back to her expectant face. Oh. It must have been her doing. Her coloration was slowly returning to normal as he watched.

 

“However, there are other doors in Kyoto we can use.” She dropped his wrist and turned her head to watch the 'copter' circle back to the Palace, appearing satisfied that it was not coming back.

 

She had his full attention now. “Why didn't you say so before, bitch? Shit!”

 

Hanae merely smiled, mirthlessly. "I was going to suggest it, but you seemed more interested in the one that was destroyed."

 

Every fucking minute counts, and she's playing games? He glared angrily at her. "Then let's go, dammit!"

 

“We shall, the place I'm thinking of is not far. And there are probably more portals there than anywhere else in Japan. It is the oldest Inari shrine, after all.” The other kitsune had transformed back; she motioned sharply to Yasei and to one of the other kitsune, and they stepped closer, each with a wary glance at the fuming hanyou. “Yasei, Jishou, get the rest of them to Fushimi Inari Shrine. It's going to be difficult with a large group, so I'll go ahead with Inuyasha here first.”

 

“Are you sure, Hanae-san?” Jishou said, frowning. “It's going to be difficult to get out of here at all without drawing notice.” All of them could hear activity all around them now; besides the copters, the sounds of a number of vehicles and shouted orders came from beyond the surrounding wall. The streets seemed to be crawling with men.

 

“I can cover for Inuyasha. We will have no problem getting out of the park. Neither will you, just be careful.” Hanae seemed calm and confident. “Yasei, please call the shrine in Tokyo and let them know the current situation. Tell them to alert Ogin-sama,” she added, her expression grim.

 

Yasei bowed, and dug into a pocket for his little talking machine. “Immediately, Hanae-san.”

 

She began to turn to Inuyasha, but to his annoyance she swung back to the younger kitsune at a last thought. “And call those slugs at Fushimi again and let them know we're coming. Might as well make an attempt to cut through the red tape beforehand,” she said, grimacing with distaste.

 

Sighing, she turned to him. “Inuyasha, I'm not going to be able to travel very fast—oh!” With a grunt of impatience Inuyasha had grabbed her and swung her to his back, settling her a little more carefully when he heard her hiss of pain.

 

“Which way?” he snapped.

 

She pointed. “South and east.” Before she had finished he was running. “Take care we're not seen,” she murmured as he approached the wall.

 

“No shit,” he said. It was quite dark now, the unnatural streetlights appeared to have gone out. It was very quiet beyond the section of wall that he was heading toward; no undertone of engines here, no men's voices or boots on the road. Off in the distance he could hear more of those 'copters' circling, but they seemed to be concentrating on the Imperial Palace complex. If he could head to the rooftops he'd be able to make fairly good time, even while having to keep to cover as much as possible.

 

“How far is this place we're headed?” he asked, navigating through the shadows under the dead trees.

 

“About ten kilometers.”

 

“Ten what?” He peered over his shoulder at her irritably.

 

“Kilometers.” She glanced down at him. “Or if you like, about two and a half ri.”

 

“Should've said so in the first place,” he snorted.

 

“You know,” she said after a moment, “you should learn these things, boy. The world isn't going to go back to the old ways just for you.”

 

“I know lots of things,” he retorted.

 

“Sure.” Her tone was sarcastic now. “Willful ignorance won't help you either.”

 

“Whatever,” he muttered. He leaped to the top of the wall, and paused to take a look.

 

The streets were deserted. They had headed away from where the plume of shouki had left visible signs of its passage; there was no overt damage to be seen here. Regardless, it seemed to have been evacuated. Inuyasha could not hear the usual sounds of occupation in the surrounding buildings—no voices, no mechanical sounds, not even the hum of electricity. The area was empty of people.

 

He glanced quickly up and down the street before making a move. No sign of soldiers, not a whiff of any human close by. He darted from the wall to the street, and across to the building opposite, then a jump up to the roof. A sudden flare of light behind them threw their shadows ahead sharply, and he paused again to look back.

 

The ruined Imperial Palace was now pitilessly illuminated with brilliant light from huge lamps, and swarming with people in odd suits that covered them head to toe. Men in unusual-looking vehicles were zooming up and down the roads that ran along the outside of the walls. They were going to have to keep moving, and quickly, to avoid notice.

 

“There's the river,” said Hanae. She gestured over to the break in the streets that he could see a few blocks away, though he couldn't see the glint of water from this angle. “Follow it south, until the Biwako canal splits off. The canal goes all the way to the Shrine entrance.”

 

“Right.” He sped across the roof and leaped lightly for the next building, and then the next, trying to keep to the shadows as much as he could. Unfortunately the streetlights were working here and every corner and angle seemed to be illuminated. He settled for trying to stay on the side of the structures away from the glare emanating from the Imperial Palace.

 

He heard a yell. A split second later he felt the whine of projectiles whizzing by his head, and then heard a loud, echoing report. Something nicked one ear--it suddenly stung like fire.

 

Hanae gasped and hunched down, and he flipped over the edge of the roof, getting the building between them and their assailants. He hung from the eave for a moment, listening, and heard more shouts from farther away. He was vaguely conscious that the ear was bleeding; he could feel a warm trickle onto his scalp, but it was already drying as the wound closed. Multiple shots chattered against the roof above, raining shards of tiles over them. Shit! Guns! How are they getting so many shots off at a time? The Tanegashima guns he had seen on the other end of the well were not very effective—they had to be hand-loaded and fired one round at a time. Too slow, unlike the hell-things whining overhead. Either they had a fucking lot of guns, or even a single firearm was now a lot more dangerous.

 

“What the hell kind of weapon was that?” he demanded.

 

“Nothing I want to get hit by,” she said shortly. “You wouldn't like getting hit again either, I promise you. Stay out of line of sight.”

 

“It was over there!” a man shouted, closer. “On the roof!” Other voices responded, and Inuyasha dropped to the ground, running along fences, scuttling through alleys and slipping between parked cars. He maintained as much of straight line as he could manage for the river.

 

“I thought you could do something to hide us,” he grumbled to Hanae, even as he strained his ears to triangulate where these men were, and staying out of sight. Going by rooftop was right out now, damn them.

 

“We're moving too fast. They can still see a blur when I make us blend with the background,” Hanae gritted out. He could smell her nervous sweat, and the pain she was in every time he bounced or jostled her was evident in her spasming clutch on his shoulders. There was no help for it. It was going to be rougher going on the ground.

 

He ground his teeth in frustration as his pace suffered from dodging obstructions. Damn it, too fucking slow! He looked up wistfully at the clean lines of the rooftops above them. “Can't you make us look like something they won't shoot?”

 

She rasped out a short laugh. “Inuyasha, they're shooting at anything moving. We'd have to be invisible.”

 

“Well?” He chanced darting across a wide street, and made it to the shadows at the back of some buildings.

 

“I'm good, but not that good,” she snorted.

 

He eased through a narrow alley and peered out cautiously; they had arrived by the river now. Unfortunately it was as well lit as the streets, and mercilessly bare of cover along its wide banks; buildings stood mostly shoulder to shoulder alongside it. It was as deserted as the streets behind them. He clawed his way up one wall of the alley to perch on a darkened second floor balcony, and surveyed the possibilities.

 

“There's a bridge up ahead,” he pointed out to her. There was also people on the other side of the river, now that there was a bit of distance from the goings on at the Palace. He could smell and faintly hear them, if not see them. Maybe if they crossed, it was less likely they'd be shot at.

 

“We need to get on that side anyway,” she murmured. “I've got an idea.” Reaching into some hidden pocket in her clothes, she brought out a tiny, crudely carved wooden figure of a fox, and held it out. “I'll throw this, and it should cause enough distraction that we can try crossing. I'll try to camouflage us as much as I can.”

 

He stared at the unimpressive bit of wood in her hand. “What the hell are you talking about? Distracted by a fucking toy? That won't last two minutes.”

 

She smiled. “You'll see. Get ready to run.” He grumbled, but tensed anyway, mapping out the quickest way to the bridge that still offered some chance of cover. She gripped the figure briefly, and then tossed it to the alley behind them.

 

Skeptically he watched it tumble down, bounce twice, and then he stared as it glowed and blew up to many times its size into an enormous golden fox, unnervingly lifelike--not like Shippou's little playthings at all. It snarled once and took off running down the street, back towards the noise and glare. He glanced up over his shoulder at her incredulously.

 

“Might as well have them shoot at what looks like the right target,” she grinned briefly. “Run.”

 

He ran. Behind them he heard a shout go up, and the roar of a multitude of guns. He concentrated on the bridge up ahead, and poured on more speed. Kagome, I'm coming. Hold on.

 

The wind whistled past as they crossed the river; ahead he could see empty streets, but light and movement behind windows. If it was this clear of eyes to see, maybe he could stay along the bank. The sound of gunfire was receding, the echo still impossibly loud but definitely originating on the other side. There were some patches of cover, here and there, on this side; a small tree-lined area, an outdoor tavern, silent and dark. His feet kicked up smells of food and spilled beer, probably dropped in the panic of earlier this evening.

 

Up ahead and rapidly approaching, he could see the glint of a narrow canal paralleling the river eastward, squeezed between ranks of old wooden buildings standing huddled together on one side and a wide road on the other. He glanced up in question at the kitsune, and she nodded.

 

“Follow the canal. We're not far now.” She pointed upward, over the buildings, to the dark bulk of a mountain ahead and to their left. “Fushimi Inari Shrine is up there, though the entrance isn't too far from the canal at the bottom of the slope.”

 

As they sped closer, he could smell the fresher scent of cedar and pine forests, the occasional hint of moving water as opposed to the stagnant reek of the canal he followed. And he was also starting to smell foxes. A hell of a lot of them.

 

He didn't need her nudge to guide him to the shrine—there were signs everywhere, nor could he miss about a million red torii marking the entrance. This was the most elaborate shrine he'd ever seen.

 

And it was a powerful one. He hesitated at the feel of the holy aura that increased the closer they got, almost a physical force pushing gently against him. The only thing he could compare it to was Mount Hakurei. Getting purified now would be pretty fucking inconvenient.

 

Hanae looked down at him quizzically as he slowed. “What's up?” she asked, scanning the entrance warily.

 

He gestured. “That's a real strong aura coming from there. I don't know how you foxes stand it, but it could be a little annoying for me.”

 

“Oh.” She relaxed, and waved him on. “Don't worry about that—I'll vouch for you. As long as you're with me, Inari-sama will let you pass unharmed.”

 

He grunted. “I'm holding you to that. The kami keeps a close eye on what happens here, eh?”

 

“Here especially,” she confirmed.

 

That might be, but that didn't mean that the god's minions would necessarily be friendly. The shrine was unlit, the darkness especially deep under the gates and could conceal an army of foxes. Not that kitsune were anything to worry about normally, but he was in a hurry. Judging from the scent now, there were a ton of them in the way, directly ahead. Hanae's attention was concentrated on the rows of guardian fox statues that they were approaching in the gloom. As at the other shrine, the first statues, at least, were not stone—they were living kitsune. There was a lot of them, rank after rank, but even they could not account for the huge cloud of fox scent that surrounded the place.

 

The first two didn't even bother to pretend as they drew near; they hopped down off their pedestals and assumed humanoid form, their stances aggressive, fists clenched as they blocked his progress.

 

“Who are you and what do you want here?” demanded the one on the left, a sleek, beefy male with small, dull eyes. He smelled of hair care products similar to the ones Kagome used.

 

“Put me down,” Hanae murmured. He obliged, and she stepped in front of him. He crossed his arms and watched carefully at her shoulder.

 

To the bristling kitsune, she said calmly, “I am Hanae of the Tokozawa Shrine, Tokyo. This is an ally. We need to use the portal to get to the eastern capital, quickly. It's an emergency.”

 

“So you say,” growled the one on the right, a female, smaller, with a pinched, suspicious expression. “Prove yourself first, stranger.”

 

Hanae sighed, “Of course.” And then she...glowed. The light of purity coming off her matched that of Yasei, earlier in the evening; this close, it should have been burning him, but Inuyasha felt nothing at all. He squinted at the sudden brightness until his eyes could adjust. Apparently the other kitsune were having the same problem, because they shaded their eyes with their hands.

 

“Good enough,” mumbled the male. He eyed Inuyasha, now, and regarded him warily. “But who's your 'ally,' there? We can't let just anybody use our portals, you know,” he sniffed.

 

“You'll fucking well let me use one, asshole,” Inuyasha rumbled threateningly, and stepped forward. Hanae put a restraining hand on his arm.

 

“Wait, Inuyasha. Let me handle this—”

 

From some distance ahead in the line of guardian statues, someone gasped, and Inuyasha saw one of the kitsune figures running towards them. He came up behind the first two, transforming as he did into a thin, willowy form, dressed, as far as Inuyasha could tell, in old-fashioned court garb. Who the hell were these idiots?

 

“That white hair—who did you say it was?” He grabbed the first male's sleeve, as the dumbass was leaning forward aggressively, like he wanted to get beat up.

 

Hanae's lips curved in a slow smile. “Well, Datesha-san. How nice to see you.” She opened her hand and gracefully gestured to Inuyasha. “This is Inuyasha, the second son of the old Inu no Taisho of these Western Lands.”

 

The eyes of all three kitsune widened. What the hell? He glanced at Hanae, but her serene expression gave him no clues.

 

“Inuyasha. Yes, of course.” The third weirdo broke into a tense smile, and bowed. “Let me escort you two to the portal, immediately.” Wordlessly he shoved the first two to either side, out of the way, and gestured politely for Hanae and Inuyasha to follow him. Inuyasha loaded Hanae on his back again and stepped quickly after the kitsune into the dim precincts of the shrine.

 

He felt the pressure of the holy aura intensify for a moment, and then vanish. Hanae tightened her grip on his arm briefly, and when he looked up at her, she gave him a sly smile and a wink.

 

The kitsune lead the way up a number of steps through a twisting vermilion tunnel of torii. They passed a large number of other agitated kitsune gathered at various small side shrines, some peering at them curiously as they passed. This place was stirred up like an anthill, he thought.

 

“I was wondering, Datesha-san, why my team didn't receive any assistance earlier this evening,” Hanae remarked softly. “I believe a message should have been sent to warn you all that there could be trouble?”

 

“Er,” the kitsune stuttered, slowing his steps. “We did get a call. There were some difficulties—”

 

“Keep going, you. We're in a hurry here,” Inuyasha snapped.

 

The kitsune started, and sped up immediately. “The message was delayed until we could ascertain that it was official, and not some young fool's idea of a prank.” He had the audacity to glare back over his shoulder at Hanae. “Your choice of messenger was unfortunate.”

 

“Yasei serves Inari-sama the same as you,” Hanae breathed. “How dare you question a message of such importance? How many died because of your incompetence?” she snarled.

 

Datesha stopped to face them, his face flushed with embarrassment and rage. “Who do you think you are, speaking so to a scion of Fushimi?” he growled “Just because you—”

 

“Hey. Asshole!” Inuyasha grabbed the front of the fop's robe and jerked him forward. “Get. Going,” he hissed through bared teeth. “Now.” Datesha's face paled and he shrank back defensively, snarling, and Inuyasha shoved him forward.

 

The kitsune stumbled, but regained his footing immediately. He stood still for a brief moment, fists clenched. Then he turned back to the upwards climb, and muttered “This way.” He avoided eye contact with either of them, his face white and stiff.

 

They continued up and up the steps, until he made a sharp turn into a side shrine, framed in tall spikes of bamboo and humid with the moisture rising from a tiny brook that flowed parallel to the main path. A doorway led into a small building that leaned against the earth of the slope. They entered the dim room, lit by a pair of candles, and stopped. Inuyasha let Hanae down again at her indication, and watched as Datesha jerked his hands in complicated figures at a side wall. Hanae also watched, tilting her brows in an amused expression.

 

The wall gaped open with another of those kitsune doorways, into an antechamber of some kind. The wood of the floor glowed in the lamplight with the rich patina of years of polishing; panels painted with scenes of men and foxes in Heian dress lined the walls. It smelled...old. This place had been established a very long time ago.

 

They followed Datesha through a series of rooms, encountering no one, though the place reeked of fox.

 

“Where the hell is everyone?” Inuyasha wondered aloud. “They all outside? Place should be crawling.”

 

Datesha frowned. “Those you saw outside are mostly without fighting experience. There are others arming up. It's been awhile since anyone had to deal with a rogue of such power.”

 

“I notice none of you did deal with it,” Hanae drawled idly, her voice bitter. “My team had counted on your help.” Inuyasha snorted, and she inclined her head to him. “It would have gone a lot worse had Inuyasha not come with us. Still, the rogue might have been stopped here if we had greater numbers against her, and Jurou might not have been killed.”

 

Datesha flinched. “My condolences,” he said softly. “We are mobilizing a force to support you in the eastern capital, and it should be ready soon.”

 

Inuyasha looked around grimly at the empty halls. “You don't say.”

 

The kitsune flushed. “Yes. They will follow you shortly,” he said firmly. “We are not cowards, I assure you. We merely have been fortunate enough to have had only peace for many years, and be unused to emergencies.” He strode quickly into yet another room, this one's walls decorated with scenes of armies riding across a vast plain, mountains in the background. He halted in the middle of the room. “Which portal, Hanae-san? Back to Tokozawa?”

 

“Do you have one closer to the Higurashi Shrine?” she asked, her eyes flicking from wall to wall. Her gaze slid briefly to Inuyasha, who was nearly twitching with impatience.

 

Datesha's brow wrinkled in thought. “The Higurashi Shrine...no, not to my knowledge. Tokozawa is probably the closest.”

 

“Home it is, then,” she said briskly, and flipped a hand at one wall. Abruptly it opened to a cozy room, seemingly underground. In the room, an adolescent kitsune sitting with a lap desk looked up in surprise. Inuyasha relaxed minutely—it smelled like that other fox den, a vast relief. The background scents were the familiar ones of Tokyo, yes!

 

“Let's go!” He grabbed Hanae and darted forward.

 

Glancing back over her shoulder, she said “Thanks for the help, cousin,” her tone ironic. “I'll tell Ogin-sama to expect you. Personally.”

 

They were across and in the little room; Inuyasha turned around in time to see Datesha give them a nervous grimace. The kitsune bowed, and the doorway vanished.

 

In this room, the young kitsune who had been sitting had gotten up and was exclaiming over Hanae's injuries. She still smelled of fresh blood; no doubt all the moving around had kept her wounds open.

 

“No time,” she said. “Osamu-chan, please see Inuyasha here out of the den, the western exit. Hurry.” She turned to Inuyasha, her face determined. “We'll join you as soon as we can.”

 

He followed the younger kitsune as it sped through the close, mazelike halls of the den. Shortly they came to the familiar doorway, and then he was out. He breathed deeply of the choking Tokyo air as he sprang forward, for home, for Kagome.

 

He was sweating with anxiety and exertion as tore across the rooftops, faster than he'd ever tried before, coming into sight of the shrine in minutes. It was still intact, at least. He cleared the steps in one leap, landing in the courtyard. It smelled of blood. Soen's blood. But it was empty. Her scent mixed with Kagome's and Shippou's, all quite recent...where had they gone? The house? The scents went everywhere.

 

He darted for the house, only to bounce off a barrier. “What the hell?” he snarled. “HEY!” he yelled. “It's me! Open up, dammit!”

 

Inside, he heard an exclamation and quick steps. Mama slid the door open and peeked outside, and stared at him in surprise. The old man appeared at her shoulder, frowning.

 

“Inuyasha, dear, what's the matter? Did you forget something?” she questioned.

 

“What's the meaning of standing out here and shouting, anyway?” grumbled Jii-chan. “I'm not that hard of hearing.”

 

“I can't get in, there's a barrier,” Inuyasha said, bouncing with impatience. “Where the hell's Kagome? Is she in there?”

 

Mama looked suddenly frightened. “ She left with you,” she said, her voice thin and uncertain. “Didn't she?”

 

His eyes widened. “Shit!”

 

He spun away, back to the courtyard. His heart pounded as he desperately tried to reconstruct the scent traces. There was Soen's blood trail, yes—Kagome had done something very right. He grinned bleakly. She hadn't been fooled. Soen's blood scent lead off to the south. Kagome and Shippou had stood here. The scents criss-crossed, old and new, but the freshest lead off to the stairs. South.

 

They were following the beast.

 

A breath of wind reached him as he stood at the top of the steps, and he jerked upright. The smell of blood, lots of it. Human blood. South of here, in line with both Soen and Kagome's scents.

 

He ripped out a curse and ran after them. He ignored the anxious calls from the house in his wake.

 

 

TBC

 

A/N: Thanks again to SoutasSister for the insightful suggestions and advice! It's a better chapter for it. Any remaining mistakes are my own. We're getting into the final stretch here, so stay tuned!

 

Glossary:

 

Ri: traditional unit of measurement in Japan. Equivalent to approximately 4 kilometers or 2.4 miles.

 

Torii: gate commonly marking the entrance to a Shinto shrine, consisting of two upright supports and two crossbars at the top; frequently painted vermilion (red).