InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 3: Forever ❯ Alone ( Chapter 20 )

~~Chapter 20~~

~Alone~

 

Nezumi opened her eyes suddenly, frowned into the filmy darkness of her bedroom as she tried to discern what had woken her up.

 

It was a sound: a dull, soft sound. Through the layers of sleep, something had disturbed her, and though she knew it was the noise, there was something else there, too. An emptiness, a graveyard stillness, in the apartment made Nezumi uneasy. With a heavy sigh, she swung her legs off the bed and stood up.

 

Her feet padded softly against the floor as she wandered through the doorway, down the hall, eyes coming to rest on the empty sofa. That didn't surprise her as much as it should have. Glancing at the DVD recorder, Nezumi winced. `Two-thirty? Where did he go?'

 

The door closing behind him . . . that was what woke her.

 

Stumbling off to the kitchen to retrieve a bottle of water, Nezumi sighed, trying to brush aside the feeling of void, of loneliness. Where was he? Why would he have left in the middle of the night?

 

`Don't answer that, Nez . . .' the voice in her mind warned her.

 

Nezumi opened the bottle and took a deep drink. `Where would he have gone? Maybe . . . maybe he was hungry or something. I don't think I have anything here, really . . .'

 

But she didn't believe that, not really.

 

`If he didn't go after food or something, where did he go? He's never snuck out before, has he?'

 

Nezumi headed back toward her bedroom with a thoughtful frown. She didn't think he'd left before, but she didn't know for certain.

 

Sinking down on the edge of the bed, she swirled the water in the bottle and held it up to catch the pale orangey light filtering through the window. `Maybe he got tired of waiting.'

 

Wincing at the vindictiveness of her thoughts, Nezumi shook her head. `There wasn't anything for him to get tired of . . . Nothing happened, other than the one night, and he doesn't remember that, anyway.'

 

`He doesn't remember.'

 

That was true. He didn't remember any of it, did he? He didn't remember, but she did, and that was alright. At least, it would be alright if she had known how high the stakes were.

 

`Thought you didn't believe all that crap, Nezumi. All that stuff he said about mates and forever. I thought you didn't believe him at all.'

 

`. . . I don't.'

 

`Ri-i-i-i-ight. Stay in that nice little villa on the edge of denial. I hear Egypt is lovely this time of year.'

 

`. . . Shut up.'

 

Slamming the bottle onto the nightstand with more force than she had intended to use, she flopped back on the bed and glared at the ceiling. Sure he'd said that she was the only one he'd done that with, but it didn't really help. He had done stuff with other girls, and he remembered those times, didn't he? `He remembers them. He just can't remember you.'

 

The deadly accuracy of that barb struck home. A sudden vision of Ryomaru, knocking on some faceless girl's door hit her hard, and she couldn't stifle the low sob that welled up in her throat. `Ryo wouldn't . . . he wouldn't . . . Would he?'

 

But she knew better, didn't she? She knew he would do that. He'd told her too much, hadn't he? Maybe there were things she was better off not to have heard. It wasn't that he was a cheater, per se. He never stuck with one girl long enough for that. That was the problem, wasn't it? So far as Nezumi knew, Ryomaru really couldn't stand to be with one girl for more than a few weeks.

 

Maybe she should have just swallowed what was left of her pride. Maybe she should just let him have what it was he wanted. If she did that . . . if she did it . . .

 

`It would hurt when he decided to move on, wouldn't it? It'd hurt worse than anything else in your life---more than all your ghosts, more than all your demons, because Ryo . . . Ryo's as close as family. Because to you, Ryo is family.'

 

Rolling over as she jerked a pillow over her head, Nezumi squeezed her eyes closed, tried not to think about Ryomaru, about where he was or about what he might be doing.

 

`If you can put it out of your mind, Nez, then you're not human, and you'd be damn near a saint.'

 

That wasn't true at all, was it? In her heart, she knew the truth, knew that it wasn't benevolence that forced her to listen time and again to the things that she was better off not knowing. It wasn't her friendship with Ryomaru that kept her quiet when she felt like screaming inside. It wasn't some sense of camaraderie that she felt when he whispered to her about his latest escapades. It was . . .

 

`It was that stupid little wish in your heart. You wished that you were those girls, and that you were the one that he tried to impress in his silly little ways. You wanted to be them, and you know it. You just never knew how to do it, did you?'

 

She never fit in with the other little girls. Their pretty dresses and perfect hair, their shining faces and innocent smiles . . . Somehow along the way, Nezumi had forgotten how to be those things, and in that little girl's place . . .

 

`But Ryo never cared, and Kich just never noticed . . . and I . . . I let them forget because being a girl hurt. Girls cry, and girls . . . They need their mommies, don't they?'

 

She sighed, the sound muffled by the blankets. She was too old to need her mommy, wasn't she? Too old to need a mommy, she had learned long ago not to rely on emotional support from her father, either. No, the only one she had was Ryomaru, and the thought that he was slipping away because of her . . . `Damned if I do, damned if I don't . . .'

 

Tears were hot, hateful, full of pain and hurt. Soaking the comforter, wrenching her heart, the tears wouldn't stop, or maybe they just couldn't.

 

Memories, as precious to her as the air she breathed, crashed down on her; images of a simpler time when the lines between friends hadn't been crossed. Staying up all night as they tried not to laugh too loud so they didn't wake up his parents . . . Playing tricks on Kichiro then pretending like Gin had done it . . . Hours spent in companionable silence when words hadn't really been necessary; when a single look could convey every thought in her head, and Ryomaru always understood . . .

 

Cursing herself for being a fool, and yet she couldn't help the tiny bit of selfishness, the beauty of the memory of the one night when Ryomaru really was hers.

 

`Where are you, Ryo? Do I really want to know?'

 

 

-=-0-=-0-=-0-=-0-=-0-=-

 

 

Ryomaru flicked his claws, splattering blood on the nearly lifeless body of the serpent youkai. “Too easy,” he muttered with a derisive snort. The youkai exhaled a last stuttered breath, and Ryomaru covered his face just in time to avoid a blast of dust and wind as the serpent's body disintegrated.

 

Turning to leave, he glanced down at the sword at his side and shook his head. He hadn't even thought about using it, which spoke volumes. Ryoteishuseishu was his pride and joy. Using the sword was something he relished. Why hadn't it even crossed his mind during this hunt?

 

Breaking into a sprint before vaulting to the top of a run-down building on the outskirts of Tokyo, Ryomaru sighed. `Why? Why? Because, baka, you desperately needed to get your hands on something. Better to rip a youkai to shreds than to lose control with Nez, right?'

 

`Right.'

 

Nezumi.

 

`Damn, what's happening to me?' he asked himself as he leapt from building to building above the glowing cityscape. Grimacing at the smell of the serpent's blood, still fresh on his hands, Ryomaru ran faster, headed toward InuYasha's Forest. Since he hadn't told Nezumi about his job, he hadn't brought his sword home either. If she reacted that badly to his family's obsession with fighting, he could only imagine how badly she'd react to Ryoteishuseishu . . .

 

`You gotta tell her sometime.'

 

He winced as he leapt to the top of the next building. `Maybe I do . . . but not now, not this way . . . not covered in youkai blood . . .'

 

Sesshoumaru's call had come a little after two in the morning. The serpent youkai had been attacking humans throughout the city; twenty attacks in all, all in the last three weeks. He'd been spotted, and Sesshoumaru had wasted no time in calling Ryomaru to take care of the problem.

 

The serpent hadn't been hard to track, and he hadn't posed much opposition, either. Highly disgusted at the lack of competition, Ryomaru dropped to the ground and jogged up the path to the house nestled in the trees. He'd grown up here in this forest, in this house. He knew the land as well as he knew his name. Everywhere he looked, he saw memories of Nezumi. She, as much as his own family, was a part of him, wasn't she? He didn't remember a time when she wasn't there with her dry humor and her little smile. It became a game to him over the years. To make her laugh was the ultimate goal. When he had discovered that she was ticklish, he had been inordinately pleased. Her laughter reminded him of the birds of summer; the ones that sang just as dawn broke over the horizon.

 

Grimacing as he stared at his hands, as he tried to find a way to open the door without getting blood on everything, he was surprised when the door swung open, as he came face to face with his twin. “Damn, Ryo . . . Nez finally kick your ass?”

 

“Baka,” Ryomaru shot back, careful to keep his voice down as he pushed past his brother and into the house. “This ain't Nez's blood, or is your nose broke? By the way, I'd be happy to do that for you, if you want.”

 

“Nose is fine,” Kichiro replied as he closed the door and trailed after Ryomaru. “I was joking.”

 

“So how'd you know I was coming over?”

 

“I didn't. I was getting a glass of water, and I smelled you. You reek, by the way.”

 

Kichiro reached past Ryomaru and flipped on the bathroom light. Wincing at the harsh brightness, Ryomaru blinked a few times while Kichiro turned on the water taps. “You know Mother abhors blood,” he explained when he intercepted the chagrined expression on his brother's face.

 

Ryomaru ignored his twin as he shrugged off his jacket and unhooked his sword. The shoes and shirt followed, and Ryomaru didn't miss Kichiro's slow shaking of his head when he saw the glint of the silver nipple stud. “You still haven't told her, have you?” he asked carefully as he swiped up the discarded, bloodied clothes and dropped them into the hamper, letting the lid fall closed with a loud bang. Ryomaru wrinkled his nose.

 

“Told her what?” Ryomaru countered as he dropped his pants and stepped into the shower.

 

With a heavy sigh, Kichiro retrieved the pants and dropped them into the hamper, too, but didn't bother to slam it this time. “What you do, baka. You haven't told Nezumi that you hunt youkai, have you?”

 

Ryomaru sighed as he grabbed the bar of unscented soap. “It ain't as easy as that.”

 

“Sure it is. You sit her down, show her Ryoteishuseishu, and you tell her what you do with it.”

 

The memory of Nezumi, of her fear, of her sadness . . . Ryomaru swallowed hard. “Drop it.”

 

“Don't be stupid, Ryo! You're going to wait and make it that much worse, you know?”

 

She told him the story, after years of not telling anyone. Maybe she had just needed to get it out. Maybe it was just too hard to keep inside anymore. Whatever the reason, Ryomaru knew how difficult it had been for her to tell. Hell, it had been hard enough for him to hear. Still Kichiro was one of her best friends, too, and Kichiro wouldn't hurt her, any more than Ryomaru would. “Kich . . . You ever wonder why Nez hates blood so much?”

 

“She's a girl. Girls hate blood.”

 

Ryomaru leaned back to glare around the opened glass door at his sibling who was sitting on the counter with his feet propped on the wall. “Her mother. She saw her mother fall off a ladder. That's why.”

 

“Damn.”

 

“Yeah.” Sticking his head under the shower spray, Ryomaru closed his eyes and groped for the shampoo. “I haven't found a good time to tell her yet. I'm open to suggestions.”

 

Kichiro sighed. “Maybe you shouldn't tell her, at least, not all at once.”

 

“What does that mean?”

 

“Well, what have you told her?”

 

“I told her I'm in human-youkai relations.”

 

Kichiro digested that a moment while Ryomaru flattened his ears to keep from dripping water into them. “That's one way to put it,” he said dryly. “Can't say I blame you for not wanting to tell her after that. No wonder she never told us about her mother.”

 

Shutting off the taps, Ryomaru shook the excess water from his hair before yanking the door all the way open. Kichiro whipped a towel at him. “So . . . don't tell her all at once? What do you mean?”

 

“You need to tell her, just maybe . . . gradually.”

 

Ryomaru sighed as he dried himself off and draped the towel around his hips and retrieved his jacket and shoes off the floor. “I don't get her old man, you know? I never have . . . He don't make sense. He should have helped her. I don't think she's ever really understood what happened.”

 

Kichiro followed Ryomaru out of the bathroom. Ryomaru tossed his jacket and shoes onto the neatly made bed before rifling through his closet for a change of clothes. “At least you had the sense to clean up before going home.”

 

Ryomaru grimaced as he pulled on a pair of jeans. “She was sleeping when I left. She's probably still sleeping.”

 

“Good, because if I was her, and I woke up in the middle of the night to find you gone? I'd be pissed.”

 

Ryomaru snorted as he fiddled with the nipple stud. “Feh. If she woke up, she'd have called me by now. You know her temper.”

 

Kichiro made a face, but whether it was because of him messing with the stud or because of his prediction, Ryomaru couldn't tell. “Yeah, you'd better be damn sure to sneak back in,” he commented, “otherwise, that temper might bite you in the ass.”

 

 

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A/N:

Posting something instead of normal chapter tomorrow… a very nice Purity Oneshot … LOL!

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Final Thought from Ryomaru:

…Nah …

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Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in Forever): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize.

 

~Sue~