InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ One Summer ❯ The Maul Psychic ( Chapter 14 )

A/N: Well, it's been a while, but here it is. This is, shockingly, the chapter when the Plot begins to rear its ugly head again. ::beats plot with stick:: Back, back foul beast!

 

Chapter Fourteen: The Maul Psychic

 

They marched up to the mall entrance. A large “Out of Order” sign hung on the automatic doors. Technology, you have failed us again!

 

“Let's use the revolving doors!”

 

“No.” said Carol, who had been in a revolving door with Cindy before.

 

“Come on, Cousin Franklin!” Cindy said. If it were possible for a three dimensional personage to sweatdrop, Carol would have. “You'll love the revolving door! Love it I say!”

 

“Just because the sliding doors are out of order doesn't mean that you can subject us all to the swirling terror of the revolving door. We'll just do it the old fashioned way, thanks.”

 

“How can a door be out of order?”

 

“Oh, they're supposed to slide open by themselves…” He looked at her like she had just grown a second head. “Uh. Long story. Let's head in.”

 

“Right,” Cindy nodded and attacked the revolving door.

 

“This one, trust me,” Carol heaved open the manual door.

 

The mall was pretty ordinary. It had those ugly, mixed-color-flecked floor tiles that infest places of business across the universe. They came in all stomach-churning colors and, for reasons beyond Carol's comprehension, were quite popular. Her dentist had them, too.

 

As they hustled toward the elevator, Carol noticed a group of teenaged girls coming out of the Gothz R Us. They walked past them, taking up the whole aisle as they went, and Carol really wouldn't have paid them any mind (aside from silently wishing a thousand deaths by plastic spork on their heads for blocking the aisle so thouroughly), had it not been for the one girl.

 

The girl in the middle's eyes rested briefly on Sesshoumaru as she adjusted her bag. She almost went back to talking to her friend, but then stopped. She did a double take. Her eyes widened.

 

Uh-oh. Carol's stomach sank to her shoes. An anime fan. This could be trouble.

 

“Um,” she said, very quietly, “We'd better go this way.” She ducked into Crazy Dan's Pointy Stickapalooza, a weapons and firearms sort of place, which was currently holding a giant flamethrower sale. (Buy one flamethrower, get two tasers free, while supplies last.)

 

As a man who may or may not have been Crazy Dan himself tried to sell Sesshoumaru some nunchucks, Carol anxiously eyed the girl as she passed.

 

“Guys…” said she, to her friends, “you'll never believe what I saw! That guy over there looks just like Sephiroth!“

 

Carol twitched. Wrong character, but right idea. Could still be a problem.

 

“I have no need of your pathetic weapons, human,” Sesshoumaru was telling the man. Crazy Dan, for his part, just nodded. He'd dealt with his fair share of crazies, and would do it again if it meant making a sale.

 

“Oh but this is a magnificent weapon! Look at the handle, there, that's pure Indonesian bull hide!” Actually, Dan was talking pure Indonesian baloney. People seemed to be more inclined to buy from him if he said it was from Indonesia, though. He had no idea why.

 

Carol realized that it would be best if they left before Sesshoumaru decided to demonstrate the superiority of Toukijin to any of Crazy Dan's merchandise.

 

“Sephiroth?” the second girl cried. Carol cringed. “He does not!” She sighed, relieved.

 

“Okay, we can go—“

 

“He looks like Sesshoumaru, duh!” And Carol turned right back into the store.

 

“Yeah, Jessica, duh! That hottie is clearly the spitting image of my Fluffy-sama!” said the third. Carol paled. Please, please let him not be paying attention. She prayed.

 

“Your Fluffy-sama?” The second girl said, voice rising in pitch. “Fluffy is mine!”

 

“Fat chance,” said the first girl, Jessica, “He's mine! And I'm going to ask that guy out, too.”

 

“You're going to ask that guy out, huh? Not if I get there first!” The second girl wailed, lunging in the general direction of Crazy Dan's Pointy Stickapalooza.

 

“No fair, Marissa! I saw him first!” said Jessica.

 

Eeep. Carol glanced nervously towards Sesshoumaru. He was still arguing with Crazy Dan, and it looked like he was losing his patience.

 

“Don't even, Jess! You got to ask out that guy who looked just like Orlando Bloom last week. And, Marissa, you got to ask out that guy that looked just like Elvis the week before that! This one is mine!” said the third girl.

 

“Dream on, Kayla!” The three girls fought their way to the entrance of the store.

 

Carol stood stunned for a moment, unsure of what to do. Also, she was shocked that people still were seeing Elvis after all this time.

 

Okay, Carol, get a grip. Must keep Sesshoumaru away from the fangirls. Must not bring down Western Society as we know it. She marched over to the counter, filled with new resolve.

 

“Look, he doesn't want to buy anything,” she said to Crazy Dan.

 

“Nonsense, little girl! Here at Crazy Dan's Pointy Stickapalooza, we have enough dangerous and potentially illegal pieces of weaponry to suit all your dangerous and potentially illegal pieces of weaponry needs!”

 

“How much for the flamethrower?” asked Cindy, from the corner.

 

“No!” said Carol. Usually, they wouldn't sell weapons to a minor, but this was Crazy Dan's Pointy Stickapalooza, and, the laws of the outside world did not necessarily apply here. “Put down the flamethrower, Cindy,” she said, just as Crazy Dan was explaining the buy-one-flamethrower-get-two-tasers-free deal.

 

“We have to see Madame Zelda!” At that, Cindy was out of the door so fast that the rubber on the bottom of her shoes nearly caught on fire.

 

“Well,” said Carol, “We'd better go get her.” She and Sesshoumaru headed to the elevator. Cindy had already gone on ahead. Carol made sure that they avoided the three girls as they got in.

 

A few people milled around the outer corners of the elevator. There was a fat man, a mother with a baby in a stroller, and an elderly woman in a wheelchair being pushed by a man who must have been her son, he looked so much like her.

 

“Okay, so it's gonna move down,” she whispered to Sesshoumaru, eyeing the other passengers. “It works by pulleys and stuff, I don't know, just thought I'd warn you.”

 

The elevator slowly descended. Sesshoumaru seemed startled, but quickly steadied himself. That is until…

 

Creak!

 

The elevator screeched to a halt and everyone but Sesshoumaru and the old lady in the wheelchair hit the ground.

 

“Why have we stopped moving?” Carol said aloud, although she already knew the answer.

 

“I think … I think we're stuck,” said the man with the old woman.

 

“Stuck?!” yelled the fat man. “We can't be stuck!”

 

“Stuck?” Sesshoumaru turned to Carol, eyebrows raised.

 

“Oh … yeah, it happens sometimes. No worries. They'll send someone along to—to un-stick us as soon as possible.” Of course, Carol had never been stuck in an elevator, but she had heard the stories. Oh the stories! People, she had heard, were known to be forced to wait for hours to be rescued. (Or maybe that was the “It's a Small World” ride in Disney World, she got them confused sometimes.)

 

“Ronald!” hollered the old lady, reaching behind her to tug on the man's shirt. “Why aren't we moving?” She had amazing lung power, for someone so old.

 

“Oh. We're stuck, Ma, I told you.”

 

“Well, you just un-stick us this minute, young man!”

 

“Um…I can't do that, Ma; we need to wait for a professional.”

 

“Don't you back-sass me! Need to wait for a professional, well! If you'd just gone to technical school like I told you—“

 

“Not that again, Ma! Every time we go out you always start in with the—“

 

Ug. Carol leaned against the bar in the back of the elevator, twisting a strand of hair around her finger. How long would they be in here?

 

Now, it is a curious fact that, every time a fair amount of people are obliged to spend a fair amount of time in an enclosed space, a baby begins to cry. Baby George was not about to drop the ball on this. He opened his mouth and let loose a formidable wail.

 

“Ooo!” gushed his mother, “Don't cr-wy, ickle Georgie! Mommy is here! That bad old ewevator will get moving weally weally soon!”

 

“Arg!” yelled the fat man, “Stuck, we're stuck.” He gestured emphatically, pacing. “How much air do we have in here? How can we survive without food or water?”

 

“Ronald why can't you be more like your father, Lord rest his soul? Now there was a man—“

 

“Waaaaahhhh!”

 

Sesshoumaru flinched slightly.

 

“Poor Georgie-Worgie! Do you want your ba-ba?”

 

“We're all gonna die! We're all gonna die!” The fat man paced spastically, waving his arms above his head.

 

“WAAAAAAAA!”

 

“Hey! You're scaring the wittle baby-waby!”

 

“Don't you understand, woman? We're all going to die without food in here! We'll have to EAT the baby to survive!”

 

“Excuse me? No one is going to eat my baby!”

 

“WAAAAAAHHHH!”

 

“Oh, there, there Georgie-pie. Mommy won't let the bad man hurt you!”

 

“I am not my father, Ma! Stop comparing me to him. Why can't you just—“

 

“You're a disappointment, Ronald and—“

 

“WAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!”

 

“Ha-ha! I've got him! Someone start a fire!”

 

“Put down my baby right now!”

 

“This is a life or death situation! Survival of the fittest!”

 

At this point, Sesshoumaru was getting annoyed, and, when Sesshoumaru is annoyed, it can be quite painful for those around him. This people know instinctively.

 

“Silence,” said Sesshoumaru, and everyone shut up.

 

When Sesshoumaru is annoyed, he does not yell, because he does not need to yell, because, when Sesshoumaru says to shut up, people shut up. Or else.

 

All eyes were on the white-haired demon now, and Carol began to fear for her life and the lives of those around her. She did this quietly, however, because Sesshoumaru had just told everyone to shut up, and she of all people knew that the `or else' wasn't just an implication, it was a promise.

 

“You, “ Sesshoumaru said, very slowly and very deliberately, “will all sit down right now. You will sit down, and, more importantly, you will not say anything. Anyone who does otherwise will answer to me.”

 

Unsurprisingly, everyone sat down and remained silent until the repairman came about a half hour later. Even the baby.

 

The elevator door opened with a swish, and Sesshoumaru stepped out, followed closely by Carol. The other people in the elevator stayed in their places until Sesshoumaru was out of sight.

 

“Where were you guys?” said Cindy, with her mouth full.

 

“Got stuck in the elevator. What are you eating?”

 

“Dunno, the guy said it was a house specialty. It's furry!”

 

“Guy?”

 

“At Shady Ben's Discount Sushi Bar.”

 

“Oh.” Carol winced. The car ride back would not be fun.

 

“And *gulp* `Shomaru, mph, I talked to one of the psychics. Madame Zelda, sadly, was not there,” she swallowed, “She must have been kidnapped by the mushroom people or Bangor 4! We shall stage an intergalactic rescue mission, yes?” Cindy looked up hopefully.

 

“Uh…let's go check and see if she's back.”

 

They approached the mall psychic booth. It was tucked into the corner of the mall, near the food court, as if it were slightly ashamed of itself.

 

Ask Madame Zelda! A garish sign proclaimed. And in smaller print: ten-fifty per session, twelve ninety-nine for large groups.

 

There was a blonde girl at the counter; she was maybe sixteen or seventeen and wearing an outfit that looked suspiciously like a medieval barmaid Halloween costume. (The end-of-the-year-Halloween-blowout tag that hung from the elbow did nothing to discourage this idea.)

 

“Look, kid, I told you, this is just a summer job! Now go away!” She said, upon seeing Cindy. The girl went back to filing her nails.

 

“But Madame Christina, you seE iNtO ThE fUTurE!” Madame Christina glanced upward icily, and then returned to her nails.

 

“No. No I don't. No one does. Probably not even Madame Zelda. Stop asking me those stupid questions! How am I supposed to know whether the French fry you found on the sidewalk last week will go on to live—what was it you said? A happy and productive life? You're crazy.”

 

“Blasphemer!”

 

“Go away!”

 

“She speaks with the LIES I say!” Cindy fumed.

 

“Is Madame Zelda here?” Carol asked miserably, eager to get this whole fiasco over with.

 

“Yeah, she's in the back. And no charge if you take that one with you! Please!”

 

They ducked behind Madame Christina, under the glittery blue velvet curtain. Behind it was a small, dark room, appropriately spooky.

 

“Come in, dahlings!” said a voice. “Madame Zelda vill see you now!”

 

“Oh please,” mouthed Carol, “Don't take this too seriously,” she whispered, but Sesshoumaru was already approaching the table.

 

“Ah yes, I see you haff brought a young man. A lover, perhaps?”

 

“No!” said all three of them, simultaneously. Cindy even made little gaggy-motions for effect. (Despite her burning love for Sesshoumaru, Cindy had never yet passed up an opportunity to make little gaggy motions.)

 

“Yes, I see, I see—“ Madame Zelda put her long fingernails to her temple, “I see that he is your cousin. Your cousin Franklin.”

 

“She seEs iNtO ThE fUTurE!” breathed Cindy, in awe.

 

“Alright, that was a freakish coincidence,” said Carol.

 

“Do not doubt Madame Zelda, little non-believer! She is haffing the second sight!” Madame Zelda flourished dramatically.

 

“Yes! We need to know how to get him home!” Cindy gestured to Sesshoumaru, “Please, Madame Zelda, use your magic powers and call upon the spirit realm!”

 

“Patience, child. Let us fetch the crystal ball!” Madame Zelda ducked under the table, frizzy hair flying.

 

Here we go again, thought Carol.

 

She pulled out a huge glass ball on a fancy pedestal. Setting it carefully on the table, she reached into a pouch at her side and flung around what she called `the Herbs of the Underworld'. The Herbs of the Underworld, for the record, smelled suspiciously like oregano.

 

“Now, I vill need somfting of the young man's.”

 

Wordlessly, Sesshoumaru pulled out Tenseiga. He handed it to Madame Zelda, who lifted it over the crystal ball, surprised. She'd never been handed a sword before. Who even carries around a sword? Actually, even Carol was shocked that he had it on him; she'd thought he left it at her house.

 

Madame Zelda set the sword down carefully, just in front of the crystal ball.

 

“The spirits are temperamental, so I caution: do not interrupt the ceremony once it has begun!” She looked sharply at Carol.

 

“Now, hold hands!”

 

“What're we conducting a séance?” Carol muttered. Cindy shushed her and took her hand. The fact that Sesshoumaru had only one arm proved a temporary problem, which Cindy solved by grabbing his pants. He tolerated it, luckily, because he was so intent on watching Madame Zelda's every move.

 

“Spirits! Can you hear me?” Madame Zelda lifted her arms. “Ah-hoem no na nano naaaa! Ah-hoem no na nano naaaa!” She droned.

 

Suddenly, the crystal ball began to flicker. Carol was unimpressed, but it looked as though Sesshoumaru's eyes were about to bug out of his head.

 

“Spirits!”

 

The ball began to hum.

 

“Make known your precedence…er presence! Ah-hoem no na nano naaaa! Ah-hoem no na nano naaaa!” She tried to cover up her mistake, rolling her head around violently.

 

She jerked forward, a strangled sound escaping her throat and pointed her fingers at the ball.

 

“Behold!”

 

Nothing.

 

“Oh ah-heh, yes the spirits are very temperamental! They do not always—“

 

“Kagome, what's wrong?” asked a voice. “Kagome?” All eyes were glued to the crystal ball.

 

There in the ball was a large room with huge vat in the middle, and a familiar white-haired, dog-eared boy stood near an equally familiar girl in a school uniform.

 

Cindy squealed.

 

Carol gasped.

 

Madame Zelda fainted.

 

And Sesshoumaru … Sesshoumaru growled.