InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 10: Anomaly ❯ Gentleness ( Chapter 18 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Madison hurried out of the master suite with her bag in hand, checking off her mental list of things that she needed to have as she hurried down the hallway and toward the stairs.

‘Charger—yes.  Kit—yes . . . Phone—yes.  Anything else . . .?’

‘I think you got the important stuff.  It’s a shame you can’t stay up there longer than a couple days.’

She sighed.  ‘I know.  Maybe, if I can get some more stuff done, I can take a short vacation soon, though . . .’

‘And maybe Mikio will come with you the next time?’

Madison bit her lip as she hurried down the stairs.  Nearly ten p.m., and Mikio wasn’t back yet, and it looked like she’d just have to leave him a note since she really needed to get on the road.

Kelly had called just after she got home.  She was in labor and didn’t want Madison to freak out, but she also had threatened Madison, just in case she got the idea to call her father to tell him.  Kelly didn’t want to let him know yet since he’d just insist that Kelly go to the hospital, but Kelly wasn’t quite ready to go there yet, only to spend hours and hours, in bed while Cartham scared the crap out of all the staff whenever they came to check on her.  No, she’d said, she’d rather wait till her contractions were closer together, and Madison supposed she could understand that well enough.

If she got moving, if traffic wasn’t too bad, she might actually make it, just in time for the birth . . .

Setting her bag on the sofa, she sat down and reached for the notepad on the coffee table.  She really wasn’t too happy at the idea of just scribbling a quick note to Mikio, but he’d understand.

And she’d just started to write when the door opened, and Mikio stepped inside.  He blinked, frowned when he spotted her, quietly closing the door behind himself.  “Where are you going?” he asked.

She dropped the pen onto the notepad and smiled at him.  “Mom’s in labor,” she told him, standing up, grabbing the bag and adjusting the strap on her shoulder.

“O-Oh,” he replied, looking visibly relieved.  “I see . . .”

“I’ll only be gone a couple days,” she went on, fiddling with her cell phone, summoning a taxi via text.  “Do . . .?  Do you want to go?  I mean, your parents are still staying with Gin, and she’s due fairly soon, too, right?”

Mikio waved a hand quickly.  “I’ve got too much stuff to do here,” he said.  “Just . . . Be careful.”

She smiled, hurrying over to the door, but she paused in front of him, her smile brightening just a little.  “I will,” she told him, reshouldering her bag.  “Oh, I saw Bas tonight.  V and I went out for dinner, and he and Sydnie were on a date.”

He blushed.  “O-Oh, yeah . . . I . . . I must have gotten the date wrong.”

Something about his tone . . . She frowned.  “Mikio?  Are you all right?  You’re not still feeling nauseas, are you?”

“What?  Oh, no, I’m, uh, fine,” he said.  Then, he grimaced.  “If you see Mama and Papa, could you . . .? I mean, I’d rather that you don’t tell them about that . . .”

“Sure,” she agreed slowly.  She hadn’t actually thought about saying a thing to anyone about last night.  She didn’t have to be brilliant to have realized that he just didn’t want anyone else to know about it, and she had a feeling that he hadn’t been too happy that she’d found out about it, either.  It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him if that was the reason why he didn’t want to go to Maine with her, but she didn’t.  Instead, she nodded and reached out to lay a hand on his arm for a moment.  “I’ll see you on Monday?”

He jerked his head once in a nod and clumsily fumbled with the door handle for her.  “Uh, if you . . . If you have a moment when you get there, let me know you got there safely.”

“I will,” she said, pausing just long enough to rise up on tip-toe to kiss his cheek before slipping out the door and turning back just long enough to wave.  Then, she hurried down the hallway to the elevator . . .


He stood in the opened doorway until after Madison got on the elevator, for a few minutes, even after the sliding doors had closed behind her, frowning at the sense of emptiness that she left behind in her wake.

The sudden and almost startling urge to run after her, to catch her before she could get away from him, was harsh, brutal.  It didn’t seem to matter that his rational brain told him that she had every reason to go back to Maine.  Of course, she should be there when her brother was born.  It was an illogical sense that goaded him, and, in the end, he forced that away, stepping back inside and closing the door instead.

Letting out a deep breath, he kicked off his shoes, bent over to straighten them.

“Monday,” he murmured, standing back up, his brow furrowing as he slowly scanned the room, as he absently noticed the emptiness that echoed in his ears.  It wasn’t that long, only a couple days since it was already nearly Friday, but she hadn’t necessarily planned the impromptu trip, and she likely couldn’t stay away longer.

He sighed and shuffled over to the sofa, idly unbuttoning his shirt as he moved.

She’d seen Bas at the restaurant, had she?  Didn’t that just kind of figure?  He supposed that he could thank her excitement and general preoccupation with the impending arrival of her brother for sidetracking her enough that she didn’t ask more questions about it.

‘She should have raked you over the coals for lying to her,’ his youkai-voice remarked.

Mikio snorted and flopped down on the sofa, letting his eyes closed as he relaxed against the soft surface.  ‘It wasn’t a big deal.  I mean, I just . . . She . . . She didn’t need to humor me; not tonight.’

‘Except she never ‘humors you’, baka.  She likes spending time with us, and if you can’t tell that much, then you really are a lost cause.’

He was saved from having to respond to that when his cell phone buzzed, and, with a grimace, he dug it out of his pocket and frowned at the name on the caller ID.

“Shouldn’t you be drawing cars or something?” he answered after connecting the video call.

Izayoi Morio chucked, leaning back slightly on the stool in his office at Eleccentric Motor Works that overlooked the city.  He was dressed for work, looking just marginally better than he usually did, which really only meant that he was wearing a dress shirt and clean blue jeans instead of the more normal pullover shirt and older, worn jeans or even trainers.  “I’m taking a break,” Morio said.  “Thought I’d give you a call; see how it’s going.”

“Slowly,” Mikio replied with a rueful smile.  “I’m getting there, but it’s taking some time . . . Is there something you need?”

Morio blinked and gave a little shrug, pausing long enough to retrieve a bottle of water and draining half of it before answering.  “Not really . . . Well, nothing big, anyway . . . Meara was talking about taking a vacation soon—something about wanting to see some snow this year.  So, she suggested we come see you, if you’re not going to be too busy, and if you’re still going to be there in a couple months.”

“A . . . A couple months . . .” Mikio echoed.  “Probably.  Maybe . . . I’m not sure . . .”

Morio shrugged.  “More like, around Christmas,” he said.  “I mean, we could go to oba-chan’s house, but Meara wasn’t sure if that was a good idea, given that they’ll have the babies by then, so it might be a little too hectic to impose upon them.”

That made sense, and knowing Meara, who really hated the idea that she might well be some kind of burden, it wasn’t really surprising, either.  “Oh . . . At the rate things are going, I’ll probably still be here,” he admitted with a darkened scowl.  “I’m sure Mama and Papa will expect me to go to Maine for the holidays, though.”

Morio frowned, understanding what Mikio didn’t say.  Of all of his family, Morio was the only one who had guessed, just how much InuYasha and Kagome’s overwhelming concern got to Mikio, and as carefree as Morio tended to be, he was also one of the few people who truly understood Mikio without needing a prolonged explanation for anything.  “Everyone would understand if you just can’t get away for it,” he suggested.  “Besides, didn’t you say before that you should refrain from hanging out around Gavin while you’re representing him?  And you know that he’d be there, too.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Mikio agreed.

Morio nodded.  “If you think you’ll still be there, then I’ll tell Meara to make the arrangements.”  He chuckled and shook his head.  “I gotta admit, I miss having you around here.”

“I, uh . . . I miss being home, too,” Mikio said.

“So, how’s Madison?”

The casual question was enough to bring a rise of color to his cheeks that he could feel.  “Madison?  How did you—?”

“Eh, Bas mentioned that she was staying with you until you got the security in her apartment taken care of,” Morio replied.  “He said her apartment was sorely lacking—I think those were his exact words.”

Fingering his twitching left ear, Mikio struggled for a level of nonchalance he was far from feeling.  “Oh, uh, yeah, she is . . . She’s all right . . .”

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with her, then?”

Mikio grimaced inwardly since he could fairly see the wheels turning in Morio’s mind.  “I-It’s not what you think,” he blurted fast.  “We’re just friends.  No big deal.”

Morio chuckled again.  “Relax, Mikio.  I’m not accusing you of anything.”

“I know,” he muttered.

“Anyway, I’ll let Meara know what you said.  I think she misses you.”

Mikio grunted.  “That’s because I’m smarter and funnier than you.”

Morio laughed.  “Yeah, yeah . . . All right, then.  Bye.”

The connection ended, and Mikio heaved a sigh, dropping the phone onto the coffee table as he flopped back once more.  He hadn’t realized, had he, just how much he actually did miss that particular nephew, but more than that, he supposed that Morio really was his best friend.  Having them visit?  It would be a very nice distraction, and maybe—maybe—it would help him to put everything into perspective again . . .


“T en bucks says that he’s about ready to try again.”

Schooling her features as she followed the direction of Bellaniece Zelig Izayoi’s gaze, Madison cleared her throat and slowly nodded.  Cartham was sitting in a chair next to the waiting room door, hunched forward, a blackened scowl on his face as he stared, unblinking, at the empty doorway.  No one sat near him, probably because he’d managed to snap at every single person who had tried to talk to him, including Madison.

“Kichiro doesn’t look too pleased about having to be the one to restrain him,” Madison replied, careful to keep her voice lowered so that only Bellaniece heard her.

Bellaniece giggled.  “I can’t believe your mom kicked him out of the delivery room.”

Considering that, during the couple minutes when Madison had been allowed in to wish her mom good luck, Kelly had told her in no uncertain terms that Cartham was absolutely not allowed back in before the baby was born, there wasn’t really anything she could say about it.  Apparently, though her brother was ready to be born, he was turned face-up, and that was causing a significant amount of back labor, and, in her magnified discomfort, the very last person she wanted to see at the moment was the person she blamed for her predicament.  Madison was sure that Kelly would be all right once the pain medicine kicked in, and she might even ask that Cartham be allowed in, but until then?  Cartham was better off, right where he was . . .

Madison sighed and stood up, wandering over to her father.  “Come on, Daddy.  Let’s go get a cup of coffee.”

Cartham didn’t look like he wanted to do any such thing, and the scathing glower he pinned her with spoke volumes.

“Sounds good to me,” Kichiro said, getting to his feet, too.  “You coming, Princess?”

Bellaniece stood, but she shook her head.  “I’m going to go check on Kelly,” she said.  “She’s probably ready for a little company.”

Cartham started to step away, obviously believing that he’d be better company than Bellaniece.  Kichiro caught his arm.  “Let Belle check on her,” he warned.  “I’m telling you, back labor isn’t something to mess around with, Cartham.  If she’s ready, Belle will come find you.”

Cartham didn’t look too pleased with that, but he gave a terse grunt and nodded once.

“Everything okay on your drive up?” he asked almost grudgingly when Madison slipped her hand up under his arm and led him toward the elevator.

“It was fine,” she told him.  “I’m glad I made it in time.”

Tapping his foot as he waited impatiently for the elevator to close behind him, Cartham leaned against the wall.  “So, your mama told you she was in labor hours ago.”

She laughed at the accusory tone in his voice.

Kichiro rolled his eyes and grinned.  “Can’t say I blame her for not telling you,” he agreed.  “Calm down.  You’ve been through this once before.”

“It was a long time ago,” Cartham muttered stubbornly.

Madison snorted.  “Not that long ago,” she countered.

“Long enough that I forgot how shitty it is,” Cartham grouched.  “Remind me the next time your mom suggests having another kit that I’m not doing this again.”

“Everything will be just fine,” Kichiro insisted.  “Baby Belle’s taking care of her.”

“That’s right,” Madison added for good measure.  “Besides, Mom’s tougher than you like to give her credit for.”

“Hell, yeah,” Kichiro said as the doors opened.  “Now, come on.  I’ll buy your coffee.”

He led the way out of the elevator, and Madison grabbed her father’s arm once more, not entirely sure that he wasn’t going to turn tail and make a break for it.  He seemed to have decided to comply, at least, for the moment, but he shot her a rather bland look.  Then, he reached up, patted her hand almost clumsily, and she bit her lip when she felt, just how cold his fingers were.  “Mom will be fine, Daddy,” she told him, leaning toward him, lowering her voice to a hushed and soothing sound.

“I know,” he said.

The hospital café was fairly busy—not surprising, given that it was not even nine in the morning yet.  Kichiro waved them over to a table while he strode over to grab three cups of coffee.

“How’s everything going with your shop?” Cartham asked, sliding into a plastic chair that was just a little too small for the rather burly man.

“It’s good,” she assured him.  “Seems like the LA location should be ready to launch around the first of the year.”

He nodded.  “Good.”  Narrowing his eyes, he frowned thoughtfully.  “You’re not moving there or anything, are you?”

“No . . . I mean, I probably will go there temporarily, just long enough to get everything up and running, but I’m not sure I’m really an LA kind of girl, either.  Besides, I fully intend on being a big part of the baby’s life, and that would be a lot harder to do from there, don’t you think?”

He seemed to be mollified by her answer.  “Glad to hear it.”

“Here you go,” Kichiro said, slipping a tray with coffee cups as well as a small assortment of breakfast pastries arranged on a beige melamine plate onto the table.  He sat down next to Cartham and reached for one of the cups.  “Oh, hey, I meant to ask you if you’ve seen Mikio lately?  I know he’s got a lot going on and didn’t want to bother him, but hopefully, he’s taking some time out to relax a little bit, too.”

“Oh, I’ve been staying with him,” she replied, picking up a small but very plump chocolate filled doughnut.  “Apparently, both he and Bas weren’t happy with my current security system, so it’s being replaced.”

“What’s that?” Cartham demanded sharply.

“Well, it is outdated,” she admitted, “and with the rash of robberies in the neighborhood, they thought it’d be better if my security was updated, is all.”

Cartham started to say something else, but the buzz of his cell phone interrupted.  He dug it out and read through a text, pushing himself to his feet at the same time.

“Everything all right?” Madison asked, starting to stand, too.

Cartham waved a hand.  “Your mom wants me to come in,” he said.  “I’ll talk to you later, spawn.”

“Give Mom a kiss for me,” Madison called after him, ignoring the very real warning in his tone, as he hurried out of the cafeteria.  “Guess it might be about time . . .”

“It could still take a while.  You never can tell,” Kichiro said.

Stifling a yawn, Madison nodded, slipping back into her chair once more.  “I told Mikio I’d call and let him know when I got here, but I might as well wait so I can send him a picture of the baby, too . . .”

Kichiro sighed.  “Tell me how he’s doing,” he said, idly spinning the coffee cup on the table.

“Mikio?  He’s . . . He’s good,” she replied, unsure, exactly what to tell him.  Mikio didn’t want her to tell him about the other night, sure, but did he not want her to say anything about him at all . . .?

Kichiro nodded slowly.  “He hasn’t had any more trouble with his balance?  No . . . No, uh, tripping or anything?”

“Oh, nothing like that,” she said.  That wasn’t a lie; she hadn’t seen anything like that—just the bout of nausea . . . “Your, um . . . InuYasha and Kagome seem . . . really concerned about him.”

To her surprise, Kichiro grimaced.  “Yeah,” he allowed, lifting the coffee to his lips.  “Sometimes too much, if you ask me.”

“How so?”

Letting out a deep breath, setting the cup down with a heavy thud, he held it in his hands and frowned at it thoughtfully for several long seconds.  “Don’t get me wrong; they love him.  It’s just that sometimes, especially recently, it seems like Mikio’s gotten a little sick of being mothered all the time . . . Can’t say I blame him, though.  It’s kind of like, the more Mikio pushes back, the more Mama mothers him.”

“He’s a grown man,” Madison remarked, picking bits off of her doughnut and nibbling at them almost absently.

Kichiro nodded again.  “That’s what I tell ‘em,” he confessed.  “Still, having pups of my own?  I get it.  It’s hard, especially if you know that one of them is a little different from the others.”

“What does that mean?” she demanded, unable to keep the sharpness out of her tone.

Kichiro didn’t seem to notice.  “Well, all pups are different.  Mikio’s just had other things that he’s always had to deal with.  That’s all.”

That made sense, she supposed—at least, on a whole.  Why did it feel like Kichiro was trying to make excuses for Mikio?  She had a feeling that he might not even realize it, but she did.  It almost felt like he was trying to make her understand, like he thought that he might need to explain things away, and as much as she loved her godfather, the idea that he might perceive Mikio to be less than he was?  It bothered her . . .

It bothered her a lot . . .