InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Once Upon a Time ❯ The Stuff That Dreams are Made Of ( Chapter 3 )

Disclaimer: No, they’re not mine. Maybe after I win the lottery….

A/N: **************** indicates a change of scene: in this case, dreams. 3. The Stuff That Dreams Are Made Of  

The pair emerged from the well looking none the worse for wear. As they looked around to get their bearings after the dramatic transition, they spotted the young monk stretched out under a tree. “Miroku!”

He looked up, brushing off his robes. “Kagome-sama. Inuyasha. Are you all right? When you didn’t return as planned we thought that something had happened, so we decided to keep watch here to meet you.”

Kagome nodded. “Something did happen, before we ever left: a youkai attacked us to get the Shikon shards I’m carrying. Inuyasha got us away, but got hurt.”

“Feh! It was just a scratch, Kagome.”

Ignoring the interruption, the girl continued, “By morning he was much better, but I was so tired I could hardly see. I must have fallen asleep. When I woke up that afternoon I was in my own bed. Anyway, we decided to wait until morning to come back. I think we’re both in better shape because of the extra day’s rest.”

Miroku nodded. He knew that Inuyasha was a singularly difficult patient at best. He looked at the girl with growing respect--using her own fatigue to force the hanyou to take an extra day to heal bordered on pure genius. He wondered if she was even aware that she had done it, or if her gentle manipulation of the hanyou was purely instinctive. He revised his estimate of the girl drastically upwards--she seemed to be both far more insightful and enormously more powerful than anybody could have guessed.

Back in the village, Kagome was a little disappointed to learn that Kaede and a band of villagers had gone off to track a bear youkai that had been causing trouble in the area. She would have liked to have told the old miko her grandfather’s story--the woman could have given her a different perspective on the story. Regardless of what Inuyasha said, she couldn’t shake the feeling that the old legend concerned her closely.

They packed quickly and left the village barely an hour after arriving from Kagome’s world. As the area was not thickly populated, they made very good time. Of course, the roads near even a relatively isolated village were reasonably smooth and unobstructed. This would change as they got further and further from settled regions.

By unspoken agreement, the group started looking for a place to camp by midafternoon. A suitable site, however, didn’t appear until nearly nightfall. Still, it was an almost perfect spot--a moderate-sized clearing conveniently close to a very welcome hot spring. Naraku and youkai aside, the thing Kagome found least the appealing about this world was having to bathe in sometimes nearly freezing rivers. The hot water would feel especially good to muscles that were no longer used to hours of nonstop walking.

While the two women soaked, Miroku and Inuyasha set up the minimal camp. They laid out sleeping bags--brought by Kagome to make the travel a little more comfortable--and started a fire.

Sitting in the water, Sango gave her best friend a concerned look. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’ve been so quiet today.”

Kagome leaned back in the hot water. “It was a rough couple of days. No matter what he says, the truth is that he was nearly killed on the way to the well. By the time I was sure he’d be okay I was so tired I could hardly stand up. We met a woman who not only claimed to be a hanyou but Inuyasha’s niece as well. Then my grandfather told us a part of the family history I’d never heard before.” She sighed as the hot water soaked away the accumulated tensions of the past forty-eight hours. “I don’t know, Sango--things have just gotten so…complicated.”

Sango was relieved. She had thought that the tension she had been sensing all day might have meant a serious falling-out between the two. She preferred not to get directly involved in other people’s personal lives, but she also didn’t want to see two people so obviously right for each other separated by a silly misunderstanding or misplaced pride. “So what’s in this family history that could make you feel so horrible?”

Kagome managed a weak smile. “I think I’ll wait and tell you all together after we eat. Maybe one of you will have some--”

She was cut off by a flash of red and rusty orange that hit the water between them, drenching them both. “Shippou!”

The youkai child popped up between the two. “Why do you all waste so much time?”

Sango was puzzled. “How are we wasting time?’

“Wouldn’t it be faster and more fun if everybody got in the water at the same time? My family always used to bathe together.” Shippou’s expression of childish innocence wasn’t entirely believable.

The slight reddening of the two women’s skins had nothing to do with the temperature of the water. Sango’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Did that hentai monk send you here to ask that?”

The little fox youkai shook his head. “Nah. I’ve asked them a couple of times, but they just tell me I won’t understand until I’m older.”

Kagome decided to try tackling the matter. “Shippou-chan, it’s okay for families to bathe together. It’s okay for kids to bathe with friends. Men and women who aren’t family just…don’t.” As she said it she realized exactly how lame it sounded, but any other possible answer would have steered the conversation into distinctly uncomfortable territory.

The two women got out of the water and dressed quickly. They returned to the campsite and sent the two men to the pool while they set water to boil: without a nearby village where they could trade for food, they were dependent on Kagome’s supplies and whatever they could find in the area.

Generally, the men didn’t spend as long in the water as they did, but anything could--and often did--happen with Shippou around. There would be no need to call them when the food was ready: the hanyou and youkai noses would be able to smell it easily.

The three male members of the group relaxed in the hot water. Although none of them would ever admit it, they also benefited from the tension-dissipating warmth. Miroku looked at the hanyou, noting the long pink mark where the skin over the newly-healed wound reacted to the heat. “It looks like a nasty cut.”

The other shook his head. “The cut wasn’t so bad, but the youkai that gave it to me had poisoned claws. Fortunately, we met a healer who--” Suddenly remembering the stranger who had helped to treat his injuries, Inuyasha leaped to his feet. “Kagome!” he bellowed.

Remembering what had happened once before when he had burst in on her without dressing first, he took a few moments to get into his clothes before crashing through the brush to the campsite. Even so, he arrived there only a few moments before Miroku and Shippou, who had dressed and followed at a more sedate pace.

“Kagome,” he asked, “I remember something from the other night. There was a woman, wasn’t there--somebody I’ve never seen before. Did that actually happen, or was it just another of those strange dreams?”

She blinked a few times, mentally shifting gears. “It happened. I didn’t think you would remember right away--you weren’t exactly at your best then.”

“And you didn’t think to mention it?” he snarled.

“In case you hadn’t noticed, I’ve had a few other things on my mind lately,” she snapped. Suddenly remembering the presence of the others, she continued, “Sorry. I really did forget all about it.” Seeing the confused looks on the faces of her friends, she explained, “You all know that Inuyasha was wounded on the way back to my world, right?” At the group’s collective nod, she continued, “I was trying to find help, but nobody was home. There was a woman at the gate. She seemed to know quite a lot about us--that we were attacked by a youkai, that Inuyasha’s wound was poisoned, even our names. She told us that she was a hanyou…and that Inuyasha was her uncle!”

That essentially agreed with what the hanyou remembered. “That can’t be right,” he said. “I have only the one brother, and Sesshoumaru thinks that humans are completely worthless, fit only for associating with each other and the lowly hanyous.” He bared his teeth in a grim smile. “He would never let himself care for one.”

Kagome nodded. “That definitely sounds like him, but I’ve noticed something odd: the last couple of times I’ve seen him, he had a young human girl with him. She even ran to join him when she didn’t have to.”

Inuyasha shook his head, clearly enjoying the implications. “So. Maybe our father’s ‘weakness’ is in my almighty brother as well….”

The women had been preparing the food as they talked. The meal, cups of instant ramen supplemented with dried vegetables and mushrooms, was ready quickly. They ate in silence, each of them considering the possible truth of the mystery woman who had helped to treat Inuyasha’s wounds. After the group had eaten and disposed of the cardboard cups in the fire, it was still too early to sleep. Kagome looked around at the circle of firelit faces. “I learned something about the history of my family’s beginnings while I was back in my world, but I haven’t been able to figure out exactly what it means.” She told them the story of the miko who chose to have a family, and the early Higurashi who were part youkai.

Sango was delighted. “Does the legend say anything about whether the miko ever returned to her own land for a visit?” At the other’s head shake, Sango suddenly understood what she believed to be the source of Kagome’s distress--anybody would be upset to learn that they’d never see their family again.

Miroku said nothing. He had his own interpretation of the story’s meaning, but wouldn’t volunteer his opinion unless asked. He was not at all surprised by the content of the story, but failed to see why it should upset Kagome: it seemed to him that many of her deepest desires would, in time, be fulfilled.

Shippou sat alone, hunched over and shaking his head, muttering about being surrounded by idiots.

Since no consensus about the story’s meaning seemed to be forthcoming, Kagome slid into her sleeping bag, saying that she was tired from the day’s walk. Stifling a yawn, Shippou curled up into a warm ball of fluff against her shoulder. The others gradually turned in, until only the hanyou remained, sitting alone to keep watch as he did anytime he didn’t feel completely safe--something that occurred infrequently at best.

It was, he decided, just as well that the others had gone to sleep, as the day’s events had left him with a lot to think about. He wasn’t too surprised that none of the others shared Kagome’s view--it had never occurred to him either until Kagome told him her theory about Kikyou.

He simply couldn’t understand Kagome’s reaction to Kikyou. If he could trust his growing knowledge of the girl’s character, she had grown somewhat attached to him. Why, then, did she seem to step aside every time the matter of the resurrected miko came up? And then, when his past with Kikyou was brought to her attention, she became furious with him!

He wondered briefly if he would ever understand Kagome, then dismissed the matter as a pointless exercise in futility.

The next three days passed largely without incident. The group once again grew accustomed to traveling together, and each of them gradually regained the stamina they had lost through the brief period of inactivity.

It was near sunset of the fourth day, and they had not yet found a place to stop for the night. The area was a singularly cheerless place--little vegetation bordered a narrow, muddy-looking stream. The exposed ground looked dry and eroded: even Kirara’s light footsteps kicked up puffs of dust as they walked along. There was no hum of insects or the ubiquitous birdsong to disturb the silence.

The strange feel of the area was having an effect on the members of the group--they were rapidly becoming nervous and edgy. Even though none of them had any particular desire to spend the night in such an obviously joyless atmosphere, the rapidly growing darkness left them with few other options.

After a quick meal consumed in silence, the adult members of the group decided to split up into pairs to keep watch. Even though there had been no sign of either Naraku or the presence of Shikon fragments, there were still any number of potential dangers in such an area to threaten the unwary.

Despite the uncomfortable feel of the place, the night passed without incident. Rather than easing their anxiety, however, waiting for an attack that never came only increased their uneasiness.

Hoping that they could clear the blighted area before nightfall they were packed and on the road again in record time. They were all going to be genuinely glad to leave the area despite a vague sense of guilt at their unwillingness to waste precious time investigating something that seemed to have nothing to do with their primary concern.

They walked on in silence. Even the slight effort of carrying on the most casual conversation seemed much too tiring. They continued, heads bowed, forcing muscles to move against a growing inertia. Sango shook her head and looked up. “Does anybody else feel it? I think it’s getting worse.”

The hanyou nodded. “Damn! I thought we’d be out of this crap by now. How the hell big is this area, anyway?”

Miroku once again tried to represent the faint voice of reason to his companions. “Since the effects seem to be getting worse rather than better, I think that we’re probably still going into it.”

Kagome dragged her eyes up from watching her shuffling footsteps. “Do any of you have any idea what could be causing this? Inuyasha?”

He shook his head. “It feels like the jyaki from a powerful youkai, but I don’t smell anything.” He looked at the sun sinking toward the western horizon. “You all look tired. Maybe we should stop and make camp for the night.”

Although none of them relished the thought of spending another night in this disturbing atmosphere, they were all weary beyond belief. Since eating seemed like more effort than it was worth, they simply wrapped themselves in sleeping bags and blankets and fell at once into a troubled sleep.

The hanyou built a fire among the inert bodies. He was particularly bothered by this lapse in normal behavior: his companions were usually very reliable about sticking to the habits established through long months of travel together. He sat on the ground, leaning against his sword, peering into the darkness in an effort to detect any potential trouble before it could get close enough to be a real danger.

There seemed to be no imminent danger in the area, and he allowed his muscles to relax slightly. In spite of the generally ominous atmosphere, Inuyasha could feel himself gradually losing touch with the seriousness of the situation. Ever so slowly, his leaden eyelids slipped shut.

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Shippou peered through the thick mist, trying to remain unseen by the youkai hunting

him. The high grass parted before him, and he could see the massive form of the hairless Manten, the skin of Shippou’s father wrapped around his waist….

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Miroku stood with the family friend who would be caring for him from now on, staring into the huge crater that was all that remained of the site where his father’s kazaana had consumed him seconds before. The child Miroku realized in that moment that unless some miracle occurred he himself would one day share his father’s fate….

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Kagome stood in the woods, fully aware but helpless to prevent the actions of the Chinese moth youkai that was controlling her body. Even when Menomaru’s attention wavered and his grip on her loosened briefly, she could do no more than beg the hanyou to run for his life. She watched in horror as the energy bolts fired by her unwilling hands pierced Inuyasha’s body, leaving him battered and bleeding at the base of the sacred tree….

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Sango followed the child’s trail as quickly as she could. She mentally cursed herself for believing that her brother had somehow been restored to her. Despite all her hopes, it seemed that Kohaku was after all still a servant of Naraku. He had even tried to kill Kagome, but he had fought the impulse and the young woman had suffered nothing more than a long cut on her upper arm. And now, it was up to Sango to track down Kagome’s attacker and send him to the next world before following her dear brother from this life….

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Inuyasha raced through the flames of the burning village. Running for the forest, his prize clutched in his hands, he never realized that he was being pursued until the arrow pierced his chest, sealing him to the tree….

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Miroku could feel the effects of the poisonous insects he’d absorbed into his kazaana spreading through him. Even though he had long ago resigned himself to a brief lifespan, being killed by insects was not the fate he’d anticipated. There was, he decided, one consolation: unlike his father, he would be leaving his friends a body to bury….

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Kagome lay, paralyzed and silent, watching Inuyasha speaking with his long-dead mother. Judging by the way he allowed her to embrace him, she realized that she had misread the entire situation--he didn’t refuse to speak of his mother because he hated her for being human, but because he missed her so deeply. Looking away, she caught sight of the pair’s reflections in the water. Seeing that the woman’s face had no reflection, she struggled to move or speak, anything to bring the hanyou back from the semi-conscious state in which he was gradually being engulfed by the woman-thing’s body….

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Inuyasha stood with Kagome on the top of his father’s grave, waiting for the next attack from his youkai older brother. Although he was reasonably certain that he could survive such an encounter, he was equally sure that her frail human body would not. Watching the tears forming in her eyes, he pledged to protect her, then turned back to face Sesshoumaru. Drawing the Tetsusaiga left to him by his father, he felt the sword vibrate with the energy waiting to be released….

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Sango woke to a suffocating darkness, searing pain in the wounds on her back, and a burning thirst for revenge against whoever had forced her little brother to destroy the rest of the youkai hunters that had been called to the castle. With the last of her strength she clawed her way up out of the shallow grave. She would not die like this….

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Kagome followed the wounded hanyou to the well. Badly hurt and in pain, Inuyasha spoke of the growing danger from Naraku. She didn’t understand why he was making such a point of stating the obvious--of course Naraku was growing more powerful: that’s why they had to destroy him now, before he got any stronger. Still sitting on the ground, Inuyasha grabbed her wrist and pulled her into a fierce embrace that was somehow gentle at the same time. In spite of his warmth she couldn’t relax in that position--maybe it was because of all the blood from his reopened wounds saturating her clothes. When he finally released her she overbalanced, falling to the ground. That was when she realized that he had taken the large piece of the Shikon that they had collected. With a warning to never return, the hanyou pushed her into the well….

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Shippou wandered aimlessly, the last surviving member of his fox youkai tribe. At his age, he preferred to avoid thickly settled regions, but loneliness sometimes prompted him to approach small groups of humans while remaining carefully out of sight. On this night, he overheard a conversation about some travelers collecting shards of the Shikon no Tama. An idea born of revenge and a chance meeting came to Shippou at that moment: he would find these travelers, take the Shikon fragments, and use them to become strong enough to avenge his slaughtered family….

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Kagome sat on the edge of the well, uncertain. She had, she decided, realized the true nature of her feelings for the often surly hanyou too late. Still, she understood that Inuyasha had pledged his life to protect Kikyou largely because of his feelings of responsibility for his part--however indirect--in the events leading up to her death. The more she thought about it, the less she cared: she didn’t want to be apart from him, no matter what the terms of her relationship. Watching his approach, she was afraid to hear what he might say but determined to ask if she could remain at his side all the same….

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Inuyasha hated his monthly transformation to human form--it left him open to attack from uncountable sources. Even now, wounded and sickened by the spider youkai’s venom, his greatest emotion was a sense of wonder: when Kagome had freed him from the youkai she had been crying--because she thought he might die, she said. Still, he thought as he rested against her, if I have to die on this night I can think of no better place than here in Kagome’s warm presence….

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Kagome stood in the snow-covered courtyard under the shrine’s holy tree. She couldn’t remember ever feeling more hopeless. Even now she could almost see the hanyou that she had hurt so badly leaning against the tree. Her mother had told her that the sacred tree’s power came from its place at the focal point of the Higurashi memories. “Inuyasha--”

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Inuyasha lay against the tree, breathing slowly and trying to assess the damage done by the youkai that had been controlling Kagome. Since he hadn’t been killed outright, he was almost certain to recover fully in time. Looking around, he was surprised to find that he was alone: it was not like Kagome to leave him under these conditions. “Kagome--”

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