InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 4: Justification ❯ The Not-A-Date ( Chapter 13 )

~~Chapter 13~~

~The Not-A-Date~

 

“Aren't they pretty?”

 

Cain stifled a sigh as he pushed Gin again and stepped back. “What are?”

 

She laughed softly, her face turned toward the sky as she leaned back in the swing, her legs stretched out in front of her, hair streaming out behind her. Etched against the background of forest trees and silhouetted by moonlight, her eyes glowed with a happy glimmer as her skirt fluttered like a butterfly beneath her legs.

 

“The stars,” Gin supplied as Cain sat in the swing next to hers. “It's just . . . It's so large, and open . . . free . . . Mama used to tell me this story that Great-Grandpa used to tell her about a mighty prince that set out to find his princess but didn't know where to look . . .”

 

Cain smiled. “Really.”

 

Gin nodded. “Uh huh . . . The prince believed he would know her because she would remind him of the comfort of his youth and a girl he used to know. He searched everywhere but never found her until one night, as he lay awake, he promised the moon that he would give anything, if he could only find his true love; his princess . . . . The moon watched over him, night after night he dreamed of this girl he used to know, his best childhood friend. When he came to this village, he saw a girl who looked like the one from his dreams, and he asked her to marry him. She said yes. He should have been happy but he wasn't. That night, the young prince couldn't sleep, so he wandered outside to stare at the moon. It was then that he realized that he'd not been searching for the girl he'd asked to marry him. He'd been searching for the woman in the moon, the quiet voice that whispered to him every night. He wanted to touch the moon.”

 

“Interesting story,” he allowed, pushing himself idly as he stared at her profile. Young, maybe, but there was a light in her gaze that seemed so much older. Gin was a mystery to him. She was a complete paradox, an irrational being that made neither rhyme nor reason. Still young enough to believe in happy endings but old enough . . . Did she realize that the world wasn't always a nice place to be?

 

Gin laughed. “I know; I know . . . I'm too old to believe in fairy tales, right?”

 

“I don't know . . . Bellaniece used to love them. She used to say I was her Prince Charming.” He laughed at the memory of Bellaniece in her frilly little dresses, her cherubic face full of innocent wonder as she pronounced herself the princess and demanded that he come rescue her. Standing on one of his worktables in his studio, she would stomp her little foot and call out for help.

 

Her tone was as muted as the wan moonlight; silvery, beautiful. “You were her hero . . . she said so.”

 

Cain shrugged. “Yeah . . . I guess I was.”

 

“You aren't still?”

 

“Oh, probably not. I mean, she's not really a little girl anymore . . .'

 

Gin giggled softly. “Girls never stop thinking their fathers are perfect, Cain.”

 

“Do you think yours is perfect?”

 

“Well, maybe not perfect . . . but he is still my hero.”

 

Cain nodded. “All right, I can understand that.”

 

“I used to believe that Papa could fix anything,” Gin went on quietly.

 

“And now?”

 

Her smile returned but it was a wistful little thing. “Now I believe that Papa can make me feel better when he can't fix things for me.”

 

“Isn't that what a father's supposed to do?”

 

Gin shrugged. “Sure, maybe . . . I had a friend in school whose father was a drunk, and he hit her a few times. Papa found out, and he went over there to talk to her father. I don't think that he ever struck my friend again. It might not have been the best solution, but at least she didn't have to hurt anymore.”

 

Cain followed Gin's gaze skyward. The twinkling stars seemed so far away. When was the last time he'd looked at them? He couldn't really remember. “Do you ever stop dreaming, Gin?”

 

“I guess not.”

 

He shook his head. `What is it about her?' he asked himself as he turned his head slightly, breathed in the scent of her. `She . . . comforts me . . .'

 

`Be careful, Cain . . . Gin is . . . Gin's special.'

 

He grimaced inwardly as the breeze brought the scent of her to his nostrils. Fresh, clean, earthy, and somehow just beyond his grasp . . . He was compelled to be near her, wanted to be beside her. `She makes me laugh.'

 

`She makes you want to think of things you'd given up, Cain. She makes you want to believe in beautiful things again.'

 

Cain sighed. `Maybe . . . Or maybe she's just a reminder that those beautiful things still exist . . . at least they do to a young woman whose father can still fix everything for her.'

 

A hint of a shadow passed over Gin's features, and he could feel her gaze on him. “Cain, can I ask you something?”

 

Despite the feeling that he didn't want to hear her question, Cain shrugged and nodded. “All right.”

 

“How long ago did she die? Your mate?”

 

A surge of outrage rifled through him. Cain shot to his feet, sending the swing flying back as he stalked away from the playground equipment. The soft clank of chains made him grit his teeth. Moments later a tiny hand touched his arm. “You don't have to answer,” Gin said quietly, her ears flattening against her skull as she slowly shook her head. “It's none of my business.”

 

Cain sighed, feeling like a complete ogre for losing his temper with her. She wasn't trying to hurt him, and he knew it. Some things, though, were just too hard to say . . . “Isabelle died . . . when Bellaniece was an infant.”

 

“Must have been tough on you. I'm sorry.”

 

“It's all right,” he lied, needing to reassure her and irritated that he would feel that way. “You, uh, play long enough?”

 

Gin blushed, biting her lower lip as she scrunched up her shoulders. “You wanted to get home and check on Bellaniece, didn't you? I forgot . . . oh . . . you know, I've heard that warm compresses are good for cramps . . . We could stop and pick up a heating pad, if you don't have one. I might have one, but then, I might have left it at home, and I can't really go there! Papa would---”

 

Cain shook his head, pressing his index finger to Gin's lips to silence her. She blinked quickly, gaze lifting to meet his, cheeks pinking in the soft moonlight. “It's all right, Gin. I'm sure she's just fine.”

 

Gin nodded in silence, blinking in the darkness, his finger still resting on her lips. A distinct shiver ran up her spine and into him from the connection.

 

`Earth to Cain . . . Earth to Cain . . . Come on, big guy, you're listening, right?'

 

Gin's lips were as deep red as wine in the dimness. Staring at him with those bright golden eyes, she seemed to see into his brain, like she understood what he desperately wanted . . . like she wanted the same thing . . .

 

`Damn, Cain, no! Well . . . maybe . . .'

 

Her lips parted under his fingertip, her breath misting his skin as a savage jolt thundered through him; dizzying, electrifying . . . and scary as hell . . .

 

`Isabelle, Cain! Isabelle!'

 

That reminder was like a dousing of cold water, and Cain winced as he jerked out of his Gin-induced stupor. He felt his face warm as he let his hand drop away. “You babble a lot,” he muttered.

 

Gin sighed. “That bad, huh?”

 

He chuckled. “Not bad, just . . . different.”

 

“Do you want to go home? Or we could walk around a little more . . . or . . .” she trailed off with a shrug, sighing softly as she shuffled her feet in the wood chips that covered the playground. “Or you could talk. I'll listen.” She giggled suddenly as she grabbed Cain's hand and pulled him toward the path again. “I promise I won't babble any more tonight.”

 

“You sure you want to make a promise you can't keep?” he countered with a little grin as he stared at the stark contrast of her little hand in his. Her skin was soft---baby soft. She was so tiny, so delicate . . . `She's my cake fairy.'

 

 

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Gin checked her watch as she leaned against the railing and waited for Cain to come back. It was nearly midnight, and she had to smile. `Ice cream at midnight . . . this is really fun!'

 

`Gin . . . you're having a good time, aren't you?'

 

`Hmm, yeah . . .'

 

`Be careful, okay? Promise . . .'

 

`Careful? Of what? Cain's here . . . he won't let anything happen . . .'

 

`That's not what I mean, Gin . . . You've got to be careful.'

 

`Okay,' she agreed, more to silence the voice of her youkai than because she was heeding the warning the voice was trying to impart. `I got it, I know . . . It's night, and there're dangers at night . . .'

 

Wandering around Tokyo at night was something she'd never really done before. She'd never been allowed to when she lived at home, and she'd never really wanted to after she'd moved out. With Cain, though, she felt safe, and even though she knew how to defend herself, being with him . . . well, it was nice.

 

“Here,” Cain said as he re-emerged from the small shop. She took the vanilla ice cream cone and hurriedly darted out her tongue to catch a dribble that had started to fall. A strange look passed over Cain's features but was gone before Gin could try to discern it: a fleeting glimpse of a deeper emotion, something frightening yet exciting, heady and primitive and . . . and stunning. He started walking, and Gin fell in step beside him, trying to make sense of things that she didn't understand but wanted to.

 

Ambling along the sidewalk as they ate the ice cream, Gin couldn't help but laugh as the beauty of the night enthralled her. “You know, this is the first time I've wandered around this late at night?” she ventured, peeking up at him as she licked her ice cream.

 

“Really? You don't get out much, do you?” he joked.

 

Gin smiled. “I guess not.”

 

“You know, it's been awhile since I did, too.”

 

“Now you're just humoring me.”

 

“Absolutely not.”

 

“Do you want to call and check on Belle?”

 

Cain stopped momentarily, back stiffening as his youki flared, laced with hostility. “Bellaniece,” he corrected.

 

Gin frowned, shaking her head as she stared up at him. The streetlamp cast him in shades of yellow, and his eyes were lost in shadows. “Sorry,” she apologized. “Do you want to call and check on Bellaniece?”

 

Cain sighed and shrugged, forcing a tight smile as he started walking again. “She's probably in bed,” he allowed. “Anyway, it's probably about time to head back, don't you think?”

 

Confused by the strange undercurrent in his words, Gin nodded in reply but didn't speak.

 

`He . . . he really got angry when I called her `Belle' . . .'

 

`You're right . . . that was strange . . .'

 

`I mean, you'd think that Belle would be an easy way to shorten her name. It's almost as though . . .' Gin's thought trailed off as she realized something else. “Cain? Was that her name? Belle?”

 

She felt him hesitate beside her but she kept her gaze on the sidewalk. `I shouldn't have asked that . . . What was I thinking? That was really, really dumb . . . Oh, dear . . .'

 

“Yeah . . . Isabelle . . . I called her `Belle'.”

 

“And that's why you call your daughter by her full name. I'm sorry. I didn't know.”

 

“It's okay, Gin. You didn't know, and I shouldn't have snapped at you.” He smiled suddenly, inclining his head toward her hand. “You're dripping.”

 

“Oh!” Gin squeaked as she hurried to eat her ice cream before it made an even bigger mess. The top was sliding off, and when she tried to push it back with her tongue, the top touched her nose. Cain laughed. Gin made a face and gave up, sighing as she dropped the leaky cone in a nearby trash can. “Ew, I'm a mess,” she lamented, holding up her now-empty hand as she rummaged around in her purse for a napkin or tissue.

 

She didn't see Cain toss away the rest of his cone, too, but the warmth of his fingers under her chin as he lifted her face to dab at the ice cream with a handkerchief. “You remind me of Bellaniece. She used to make a mess of herself when I'd buy her ice cream, too.”

 

Gin blushed, embarrassed at the reference to his daughter and unsure about the strange feeling in her stomach. It wasn't unpleasant, but it was unsettling. “C-Cain?”

 

“Hmm?” he intoned as he took her hand and started wiping it off, too.

 

“I . . . I feel . . . strange.”

 

“Strange?” he echoed absently. “How so?”

 

She swallowed hard as the fluttering in her stomach increased. Pressing her free hand against her belly alleviated some of the sensation. She shook her head. “I'm not . . . sure . . .”

 

Cain stopped, glancing up at her without letting go of her hand. A foreign brightness sparked behind his gaze, and he blinked suddenly, dropping her hand as he stood up straight and stuffed the handkerchief into his pocket. “That'll do,” he mumbled.

 

The unsettling feeling slowly subsided, and Gin tried to forget about it as they started walking again. “My fingers are still all sticky,” she commented in the stilted silence.

 

Cain shrugged. “Well, I used to lick the handkerchief first, before I tried to wipe Bellaniece off. I didn't suppose you'd like that at all.”

 

She stole a glance at him. Tall, proud, staring off into the distance with a discernible frown, his ponytail lay over his shoulder. There was something completely mysterious about him, and yet she felt like she knew a part of his soul.

 

Gin grimaced and shook her head to dispel that bit of nonsense. `That's crazy . . . I don't know him that well . . .'

 

`Maybe not, but outside your family and the girls you grew up with, you probably do know him better than you know anyone else.'

 

`He's lonely.'

 

`Gin . . . remember when I told you before to be careful? I meant it. Cain isn't a stray puppy you can bring home. You know that, right?'

 

`Of course I do! He's just my friend; that's all.'

 

`Just your friend, huh? Keep that in mind, won't you? Cain is a great person but he's got a lot of baggage---a lot of stuff that you don't know about.'

 

`Maybe he just needs a friend.'

 

`Gin . . . you're not listening. You can't save Cain . . . You can't find what's broken inside him and make it all better.'

 

Gin brushed that thought aside with a shake of her head. `That's silly! I don't want to save him! I want to---”

 

`You want to do for him what your mother did for your father, right?'

 

`Is that wrong?'

 

Her youkai sighed. `Not wrong, Gin . . . but you're missing one crucial difference between your father and Cain: your father wanted to be saved.'

 

Gin frowned as she scuffed her feel along the sidewalk, as their feet fell in a steady cadence in the night. `But maybe Cain really does want to be saved, too . . .'

 

 

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`That girl is nothing but trouble, Cain.'

 

Cain hitched his shoulders as he pushed away from the short wall and watched as Gin swished her hands in the lit fountain in the center of the plaza in front of the Inutaisho Industries building. Smiling idly as she shook the water off her hands, he ignored the warnings his youkai was spouting.

 

Hopping over the short stone step, she caught his gaze and grinned.

 

“Excuse me . . .”

 

Cain had noticed the woman but hadn't paid much attention to her. So caught up in watching Gin, it hadn't occurred to him that he was being approached she was standing before him. “Can I help you?” he asked automatically, peeking over the woman's shoulder as Gin picked her way through the flower garden that surrounded the fountain.

 

The woman smiled, casually flipping a long strand of brown hair over her shoulder, and touched Cain's arm. “I certainly hope so . . . My name's Eliza. You wouldn't happen to know where I can find the Tokyo Grande Hotel, would you?”

 

Cain's eyes dropped to the woman's hand on his arm and lingered. “Sorry. I'm new to the city, myself. I haven't heard of it.”

 

Something about Eliza reminded Cain of a cat. Her stance, her movements, everything about her bespoke a feline grace, a predatory air. She was only a human. He could tell that from her scent. What he didn't like was the possessiveness of her hand on him, the arrogance with which she used her not-so-subtle ruse to try to win him over. Wealthy surely, used to getting her way, or so it would seem, she didn't give the impression of the kind of woman who liked to hear the word `no'. Too bad Cain wasn't interested. He'd never been drawn to women like that. Eliza didn't seem to notice Cain's assessment. She smiled, tilting her head to the side as she flicked the top of her tongue out, touched her upper lip. “Oh, that's a shame . . . maybe you wouldn't mind giving a lady some company while I'm looking for it?”

 

Stifling the desire to shove her hand away, Cain slowly lifted his bored gaze as Gin stopped short behind the woman. “I can't,” he replied. “Gin's from Tokyo. Maybe she knows where the Tokyo Grand Hotel is.”

 

He could sense the woman's stance change, could feel the swell of irritation at the mention of Gin's name. She turned slowly, her condescending gaze traveling up and down Gin's diminutive frame. From where Cain stood, he didn't miss the slight narrowing of Eliza's eyes, the curl of her ruby red lips.

 

Cain shook her hand off and glanced at Gin. If Gin sensed Eliza's hostility, she didn't show it. Offering the woman a friendly smile, Gin bowed and greeted her. “I'm Izayoi Gin. Cain said you need help finding your hotel?”

 

Eliza smiled insincerely at Gin and uttered a terse little laugh. “How sweet! Your sister?” she asked, turning back to Cain.

 

Gin shook her head as a little frown pulled her eyebrows together. “Sister? No . . . Cain's my teacher.”

 

“Oh, your teacher! Now, that makes sense!” She laughed, and the sound of it made Cain cinch his jaw tight. Gin just looked confused. “I almost thought you were together! Silly, silly me!” Turning back to Cain as she deliberately turned her back on Gin, Eliza touched his arm again, leaned in close---too close. “I could pay for your student to take a cab home, if you'd be willing to help me, Cain?”

 

Before Cain could push the audacious woman away again, Gin stepped back, a smile on her lips despite the hurt in her eyes. “That's okay . . . I have money,” she assured them. “The Tokyo Grand is just around this corner and down about four blocks south.”

 

She turned on her heel and walked away before Cain could stop her.

 

“What a sweet little girl,” Eliza crooned, watching Gin hurry away.

 

“Gin!” Cain hollered, starting after her. Eliza caught his hand to stop him as Gin broke into a run and disappeared around the corner.

 

“How quaint! Now that you're done babysitting, how about you buy me a drink?” Eliza pressed as she linked her arm through Cain's and tugged him forward.

 

`What are you thinking? You need to catch Gin! It's late, she's alone . . . Cain!'

 

`Damn it! I can't just . . . Hell, why did she take off?'

 

Cain gritted his teeth and led the woman toward the street as he stuck his hand out to hail a cab. “Look, Miss, I don't know who you are, but I'm responsible for that girl,” he growled as he jerked open the cab door. “The Tokyo Grande Hotel,” he told the driver.

 

Eliza's expression took on a pinched, angry look, which only added to the cat-like appearance of her face. “Sorry to trouble you,” Eliza remarked tightly. “Good night.”

 

Cain didn't trust himself to answer her. Tossing a wad of bills through the cab driver's window, he stepped away from the curb and strode away in the direction Gin had disappeared.

 

 

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“Cain's my teacher,” Gin muttered as she pulled the cake pan and her mixing bowl from the cupboard. “I mean, he is, right? Just my teacher, remember? It wasn't like we were on a date or anything . . . It was just dinner, and . . . stuff . . .”

 

She ran all the way home. Barely able to restrain herself as she walked away from Cain and that woman, Gin hadn't been able to brush off the animosity she'd felt, either. As if the woman hated her for reasons Gin didn't understand---how could she? She'd just met her---the woman had looked at Gin like there was something wrong with her.

 

`How could she hate me? I didn't do anything . . .'

 

`Oh, Gin . . . She was rude, wasn't she?'

 

Gin took her time measuring out the ingredients for her nightly cake. `Maybe she was having a bad day or something . . . Maybe she wasn't really trying to be rude . . .'

 

`Doll, she jerked Cain right out from under your nose! That had nothing to do with having a bad day and everything to do with being a catty bi---”

 

`No . . . I mean, I'd never met her. She can't have had something against me if I'd never met her before.'

 

Her youkai sighed.

 

Gin finished mixing up the cake batter and greasing the pan when the soft knock sounded on her door. Pausing a moment to dump flour into the pan, she tapped it around as she strode over to answer. “Cain . . .”

 

Cain stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, staring at her with an inscrutable look on his face. Gin stepped back, and Cain brushed past her. She winced as she pushed the door closed. He was furious, and she had no idea why.

 

“What the hell was that, Gin?”

 

Gin frowned in confusion and hurried back to the counter, careful to give Cain a wide berth since he looked like he was going to commit some mayhem. “What was what?”

 

“Don't play innocent: your disappearing act, that's what.”

 

Her hands were shaking as she scraped the batter into the pan. She drew a deep breath to steady her voice before she dared answer. “I didn't disappear. I came home.”

 

“Oh, for the love of---Gin, Tokyo is huge! There's a reason your father never let you run around the city at night, or didn't you think of that?”

 

“But I---”

 

“Damn, Gin, don't you get it? The world isn't as beautiful and perfect and innocent as you want to believe! There are those out there who would hurt you---especially you---and you can't take stupid chances like that!”

 

“I know,” she replied, staring at her hands, clasped together on the counter.

 

“I don't think you do. I don't think you get it at all.” He sighed, cracking his knuckles before clenching his fists. He looked like he wanted to hit something. “Not everyone is like you. Not everyone looks at things and sees what you see.”

 

“What do you see?”

 

Her soft question seemed to catch him off-guard. Shaking his head slowly, he glared at her. “What do I see?”

 

She shrugged and slipped the cake into the oven. Setting the timer, she turned around to face him again, but she couldn't meet his gaze. “When you . . . when you look at me, what do you see?”

 

Cain sighed. “This is about that woman, isn't it?”

 

Gin shifted her gaze to stare at the wall clock. Nearly one in the morning . . . “I don't understand why she hated me.”

 

Cain's anger diminished, and he crossed the room to clumsily, hesitantly draw her into a hug. Gin stared at her hand, balled into a fist against his chest, and she closed her eyes against the memory of the sting of the woman's words and actions. “She didn't hate you,” he said softly. “She just . . . I don't think anyone could ever really hate you.”

 

Gin laughed weakly. “You're just saying that to make me feel better, but thanks anyway.”

 

He wrinkled his nose. “I said it because it was the truth. I almost wish it weren't.”

 

“Why?”

 

He smiled sadly and let go of her to drag a tired hand over his face. “No reason.”

 

She knew there was more to Cain's answer than he gave her but also understood that he wasn't going to tell her anything more. Stepping around him to gather the dirty dishes, she turned back to the sink and shrugged. “You know, for the record: if someone had tried to mug me or something, I could have taken `em.”

 

“Come again?”

 

Gin turned on the water to wash the mixing bowl and utensils. “You think my papa didn't teach me a few tricks? I can hold my own; thanks . . . bet I could kick your rear, too.”

 

“I beg to differ, baby girl,” he argued. “Not that I would fight a woman, but . . . you wouldn't be able to do that.”

 

Gin snorted. “I've beaten my brothers. I've beaten Toga . . . You don't look so tough. I could definitely take you.”

 

Cain laughed incredulously. “You could not!”

 

“I could, too!”

 

“No `baby girl' can possibly fight a tai-youkai.”

 

“So you think you're tough? I'd like to see that.”

 

“Pity there's no worthy adversaries around here.”

 

Gin glanced over her shoulder at him. “I bet my papa could take you.”

 

Cain snorted indelicately. “You tell your papa I'd be more than happy to wipe the floor with him.”

 

Gin grinned. “Be careful what you ask for, Cain.”

 

Cain chuckled. “I suppose you're right, Gin.”

 

 

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A/N:

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Final Thought from Gin:

He makes me feel … strange?

==========

Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in Justification): 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~