InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 4: Justification ❯ Evidence ( Chapter 26 )

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

"You know, I wish my idiot brothers hadn't interrupted your battle with Sesshoumaru-oji-san," Gin commented as she cleared the dishes off the table and shrugged off Cain's hand of assistance.  She'd made good on her offer to cook a late dinner for Cain and Bellaniece, and as the hostess, she refused to let Cain help her clean up, too.  "It would have been interesting, seeing who won."

Cain snorted.  "Pfft!  As if there was any doubt about that!  I'd have won.  I was just playing with him, anyway."

Gin raised her eyebrows and shrugged.  "I don't know . . . Oji-san is pretty tough . . . He's about the only one who really gives Papa a run for his money."

"Isn't Sesshoumaru the one who trained you?" Bellaniece asked as she stood up and brought her plate over before rinsing out a sponge to wipe off the table.

"Incidentals."

"Really?  Oji-san trained you?" Gin asked.

"Yeah.  Pointless, really.  Never had much use for a sword."

Gin paused with her hands buried in the sudsy dishwater and thoughtfully regarded Cain with a small grin.  "Hmm . . . You're an interesting man, Zelig Cain."

The smallest hint of a smile touched the corners of his lips.  "Am I?"

She nodded.

Bellaniece cleared her throat as she dropped the sponge into the sink and divided her attention between Gin and her father.  "I was impressed with your skills, Gin."

Gin shrugged but blushed.  "Kichiro-nii-chan had it coming."

"Her father taught her how to fight," Bellaniece pointed out, tugging on Cain's arm.  "Why didn't you teach me?"

"Do you plan on going out and getting into a fight, Bellaniece?" he asked with a cocked eyebrow.

"Of course not!" she scoffed.  "That doesn't mean that I might not need to know some stuff, don't you think?"

Cain slowly shook his head. "Nope, I don't think.  All you need to know is that any man—human or youkai—will be on the ground if you kick him between the legs.  Then you run."

Gin shook her head as she dried her hands on a towel and turned around to face him.  "Why don't you want her to learn?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Not really."

Cain shrugged.  "She doesn't need to because there will always be someone there to protect her."

Gin could sense that there was something else that he wasn't saying.

Bellaniece rolled her eyes.  "I know you want to think so, Daddy, but that's really not possible."

"Yeah, well, I keep telling you, you have to be careful, don't I?"

Gin idly dragged the towel through her hand.  "It's because she's hanyou, isn't it?  Because of what could happen if she fought or if her life were in danger . . ."

Cain grimaced.  Bellaniece's playful smile faltered then faded altogether.  "There's that, too," Cain finally admitted with a shake of his head.  "Thing is, once you learn how to fight, it's easy to think you can just stand your ground instead of trying to get away."

"Papa has Tetsusaiga.  It sealed his youkai blood for a long time, not that he needs it anymore.  He learned to control it a long time ago," Gin mused.

"And the rest of you?" Cain asked, careful to keep his tone casual so as not to slight InuYasha.

Gin folded the towel and dropped it on the counter.  "We don't transform.  Oji-san said he thinks it's because Mama's a miko.  He thinks her blood tempers Papa's."

Cain chuckled, shaking his head as Gin blinked and waited for him to explain just what he found so amusing.  "The hanyou and the miko.  Rather unlikely combination."

Bellaniece giggled.  "I don't really want to fight, anyway," she remarked.

Gin turned back to finish washing the dishes.  Cain reached over and flicked her left ear with the tip of his claw.  She flattened the appendage.  He chuckled and carefully pried it up.  She twitched her ear away from his hands as he chuckled and grabbed for it again.  Gin growled, flipping a handful of suds at him.  Cain wiped them off his cheek with a deep, throaty laugh.

"I thought you said you wouldn't throw stuff at me anymore," he reminded her.

"You coerced me into promising I wouldn't throw clay at you anymore," she corrected, scooping up another handful of suds and dabbing them on his nose. Cain's eyes crossed as he stared at the melting bubbles before he blew out a gust of air, sending the bubbles flying into the air as Gin giggled.  "You're like the Big, Bad Wolf."

"They're bubbles," he countered.

"Clay?" Bellaniece echoed.

Cain's back stiffened, and he shot his daughter an almost nervous glance.  "Clay?" he repeated.

Bellaniece nodded.  "Gin threw clay at you?"

Gin blushed.  "Well . . . sort of . . ."

"Why did she do that, Daddy?" Bellaniece asked, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the refrigerator.

"I couldn't see her bear," he answered with a completely blank expression.

Gin rolled her eyes and shook her head.  "Because he touched my ears," she said.  "I couldn't even see the bear.  How could you have seen the bear?"

"Bear?" Bellaniece asked.

"Her sculpture was an abstract bear—" Cain began.

"If you tilted your head to the side and squinted . . ." Gin finished.

Bellaniece nodded slowly as she kicked her toe against the hardwood floor.  "Wow . . . Oh, Daddy . . ."

"What?" Cain demanded, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his tone.

Bellaniece laughed.  "I'm really tired.  I'm going to go on home.  Thanks for inviting me today, Gin!  It was a very interesting afternoon."

"Okay," Gin agreed.  "Goodnight!"

Bellaniece stopped, half way out the door, to lean around and smile, wiggling her fingers in a cheerful farewell.

Cain sighed as the door closed behind his daughter.  "Well, that was . . . uncomfortable."

Gin rinsed out the sinks and dried her hands again before turning to face Cain.  "Uncomfortable because Bellaniece was here or uncomfortable because you were joking with me?"

"Maybe I shouldn't answer that."

Gin nodded and shuffled into the living room, tucking her foot under and grabbing a throw pillow to hold against her chest as she sat down on the sofa.  Cain followed her and sat at the far end.  She tucked her chin deep into the pillow and stared at him.  Scowling at his hands, he seemed to be thinking about things that Gin wished she understood.   "Why do you look sad?" she finally asked.

"I'm fine," he lied.

"Can I do anything?"

He slowly shook his head.  "You've done enough."

Gin bit her lip, hugged the pillow tighter.  "That sounds like an accusation."

"No . . . It's not.  It's just . . . It's not important."

"If it weren't important," she began quietly, "it wouldn't make you unhappy."

"You don't understand.  You'll never understand.  I . . . I don't want you to understand."

She swallowed hard past the growing lump that thickened in her throat and nodded.  "I see."

"Gin . . ." Cain sighed and trailed off, letting his forehead drop heavily into his hand.

"We're friends, right?"

He seemed surprised by her question but nodded.  "Yeah."

She shrugged and tried to smile.  "Then that's enough, isn't it?  That's not so hard to understand."

He stared at her for a moment then smiled, too.  "No, it isn't hard, at all."


Kichiro stared at the framed photograph and rubbed his temple as he slowly shook his head.  A family picture taken long ago, it was one of the few that he kept on display in his home.  InuYasha knelt beside Kagome who held Gin in her lap.  The twins hadn't wanted to cooperate—there were butterflies thick in the yard—and in the end, InuYasha had to hold onto his sons on either side of Kagome to keep them there long enough for Rin to snap the picture.  'Time for another family picture?'

Kichiro winced.  'Yeah, in a few months, I suppose so.'

'Does it bother you?'

'Not really.  I always wondered why Mama and the old man never had more pups after Gin.'

Then again, it had been a bit of a shock.  After the tournament ended and everyone was gathered around the extended table, Kagome had said that she had an announcement.  He wasn't sure what he was expecting.  It certainly wasn't what she finally said.

"Your father and I wanted to tell you all at the same time.  We've decided to have another baby."

Ryomaru had dropped his chopsticks.

Kichiro had wiped his mouth on a napkin and sat back to wait for their mother to elaborate.

Gin had looked surprised for all of a second before clapping and bobbing her shoulders in excitement.

Sesshoumaru had rolled his eyes.  "Kami . . . more of your miscreants?"

InuYasha snorted as he pushed his plate away.  "Yeah, well, I tried to tell her . . ."

Kagome poked InuYasha in the ribs.  "Don't you have anything to say?  Ryomaru?  Kichiro?  Gin?"

Gin hopped up and ran over to hug her mother.  "I think it's wonderful," Gin assured Kagome.

"It's fine," Kichiro agreed.

"Ryomaru?" Kagome asked, tilting her head as she gazed at her oldest son.

"I ain't got a problem with it," he said slowly.

InuYasha didn't miss Ryomaru's reluctant statement.  "If you ain't got a problem with it, then why do you sound like you do?"

Ryomaru sighed.  "It ain't the pup; that's fine . . ."

"Then what is it?" InuYasha demanded.

"Well, it means that you'd have to have . . . sex . . ."

Cain had been lifting a glass of water.  He set it down and coughed.  Bellaniece curled her fingers under and pressed them to her lips.  Kagura rolled her eyes and shook her head.  Nezumi covered her eyes with her hand.  Sierra stopped whispering to Toga.  Toga choked out a laugh.  Sesshoumaru sat back, crossing his arms over his chest with an 'I Rest My Case' sort of expression.  Rin slapped Shippou's chest before he could make one of his legendary comments.  Gin stopped mid-hug, eyes rounding in shock that her brother would voice that sort of opinion.  Kagome moaned.

InuYasha looked fit to kill.  "Keh!  And just how do you suppose you were made?  There ain't a hanyou fairy, baka."

"Yeah, but we didn't know about that back then . . . Ain't you two a little old to be doing that?"

Nezumi jabbed her elbow into her mate's ribs as InuYasha flushed and sputtered indignantly.  "No, we ain't too old to be—"

"But there aren't any other objections to our having another baby?" Kagome broke in, laying her hand on InuYasha's arm to calm him.

"I think it's wonderful, Mama," Gin said, giving her mother another squeeze before leaning over to kiss InuYasha's cheek, "and I don't think you're too old to have sex."

InuYasha groaned.  Kagome blushed.

"What's 'sex'?" Coral asked.  Toga choked on his food and dropped his chopsticks in favor of slapping a hand over his daughter's overzealous mouth.

"I want a hanyou fairy!" Cassidy piped up.

"You could ask Gin if she knows the hanyou fairy," Bellaniece told the little girl.  "She's got fairy connections."

Cain's coughing escalated into something akin to a mad hacking, and he grabbed the water and downed it fast.

Kichiro chuckled as the memory faded, and he set the photograph aside.  No, he didn't mind the idea of his parents having more children.  If that made them happy, then he was all for it, even if the blatant reminder of just how they'd create that child did disturb him on some level . . . Not that he didn't know how things like that worked, but the blatant reminder . . . Kichiro sighed.

The ticking clock chimed the hour, breaking the stillness that he knew too well.  Standing up, wandering over to the black lacquered baby grand piano that stood next to the wall of windows flanking the sliding glass doors, Kichiro sat down and ran his fingertip over the keys.

Playing a song he knew by heart, he closed his eyes and let his fingers dance over the keys.  When Ryomaru had been spending extra time in the forest, training and making sure he was the toughest of them all, Kichiro had begged Kagome to let him take piano lessons.  He'd thought at the time, that his father wouldn't see the need for the indulgence, but Kagome had encouraged him to ask InuYasha.  It had been the hardest thing he'd ever done, back then.  Afraid that he'd seem weak or strange in his father's eyes, it had taken him weeks to build up the courage to ask InuYasha.

Sitting atop the boulder by the pond in the back yard, InuYasha had seemed almost unapproachable as seven year-old Kichiro had forced himself to come closer.  "Papa . . . I wanted to ask you something," he began, scuffing the toe of his new tennis shoes in the dirt.

InuYasha didn't move, but his eyes shifted to the side as he waited for his son to speak.

"I wondered . . . I thought I'd . . . Can I have piano lessons?" he blurted, cheeks reddening.  He knew his father was going to say 'no'.  InuYasha was a fighter, and Kichiro, even at that age, knew he wasn't.

InuYasha jerked his head at the empty spot beside him, the one that Kagome normally occupied in the evenings.  Kichiro climbed up and scrunched up his shoulders as he waited.

"So, you want to play the piano?" InuYasha finally asked.

Kichiro nodded, unable to discern InuYasha's thoughts from his tone of voice.  "Yes."

"If you take them, what are you going to do with what you learn?"

Kichiro shook his head.  "I don't understand."

"Well, you can't learn things just because.  You have to use what you learn somehow, don't you?"

"I guess."

InuYasha shrugged.  "You think it over, and let me know."

Kichiro scowled, running his claws in the deep welts InuYasha had dug there from long evenings spent staring over the pond.  He was sure that his father wasn't going to let him take the lessons.  Kichiro sighed.

"Might help your coordination some," InuYasha mused.  "Not that you're clumsy, because you aren't."

"I like music," Kichiro muttered.

"Could be good for your concentration, too."

"Uh huh."

"I don't suppose they'd hurt.  One thing: if you take these lessons, you can't quit, you got that?"

Kichiro grinned.  "I won't quit!"

And he hadn't.  By the time he'd finished school, he'd been through four teachers, all of whom had run out of things to teach him.

The song ended, and Kichiro smiled sadly.

'You know what's really bugging you.'

'I know.'

'So why don't you do something about it?'

Kichiro shook his head.  'Like what?'

'Call her.'

'Call her?  And do what?  She'd hang up on me.'

'Maybe, but you could still try.'

He stood up and reached for his phone, but stopped with his hand hovering over it.  "What am I?  Fifteen?  I can't call her to tell her I was an ass . . ."

'Yeah, but going over there really might not be that great an idea . . .'

'By all means, feel free to shut up,' Kichiro thought as he snatched the cell phone and dropped it into his pocket while striding toward the door.

'All right, but don't say I didn't warn you when she slaps you a good one . . . and you kind of deserve that, too.'

Kichiro grimaced as he checked his watch.  It was nearly nine-thirty.  Hopefully he'd be able to talk to her without her father's interference . . . Or maybe . . .


"I want chocolate."

Cain peeped over the top of the art book he was browsing and cocked an eyebrow at Gin.  "Chocolate?"

She didn't look up from the magazine in her hands.  Propped against the far end of the sofa with her knees raised and the magazine resting on her thighs, she seemed absorbed in the article she was reading—or the accompanying pictures . . . "Yeah, chocolate.  Bowen Lara did this sculpture.  It's an eighteen foot swan made entirely of chocolate."

Cain leaned forward to peek over the top of the magazine.  'An eighteen foot chocolate swan?  Gin would be bouncing off the walls for days . . .'

"The swan's nice, but can you imagine?  That's a lot of chocolate."

"I doubt anyone is going to eat it," he remarked dryly, flopping back against the other arm of the sofa.  "Might be interesting to see them try . . ."

Gin flipped her legs off the sofa and dropped the magazine on the coffee table as she stood up and started toward the kitchen.  Cain shook his head when she returned with a very large box of chocolate pocky.  "You can't eat that," he pointed out reasonably.

"You want some?" she asked, shaking the open box at him, nibbling the first stick of the sweet treat.

"No, thanks," he answered.

"You know, I don't offer to share my chocolate with just anyone," she coaxed.

Cain grinned.  "Nope, and you shouldn't even be eating it."

Gin rolled her eyes and dropped the box beside her.  "I won't get hyper from a packet of pocky."

"That's not the reason.  You're eating Men's Pocky."

"So?"

"So you're not a man, are you?"

Gin snorted.  "That's the most sexist thing I think I've ever heard you say!" she mused.  "I can eat this.  Men's Pocky.  Keh!"

"No, I'm pretty sure they put some sort of hormone thing in that . . . testosterone or something.  Chocolate on steroids."

"You're just trying to keep me from enjoying my chocolate, but it won't work."

"Nah," he argued, turning his attention back to the book again, "I'm just trying to save you from ending up, you know, with man-parts . . . and body hair."

Gin stopped eating for a moment then pulled another stick of pocky from the packet.  "Man-parts and body hair?  Now I know you're just teasing."

"Maybe, but you had to think about it, didn't you?"

"Disgusting, Zelig-sensei, just disgusting."

Cain chuckled as he stood up and strode over to the cupboard.  When he glanced over his shoulder, it was to find Gin leaning on the back of the sofa on her knees.  "What are you doing?"

Wrinkling his nose as he stared at the entirely unacceptable selection of candy in Gin's cupboard, Cain shook his head.  "Gin . . . You don't have any decent candy here."

"That's not true.  It's all decent."

"It's all . . . pocky and gummies, and . . . koala bear cookies . . ."

"Those are good!  They have chocolate filling."

Cain shook his head as he strode over, grabbed Gin's hands, and tugged.  "Come on, baby girl.  You need better candy."

"There's nothing wrong with my candy," she insisted but stood up.

"Sure, there is.  You need . . . manly candy."

Gin giggled as she slipped her sandals on.  "You mean like the Men's Pocky?"

"Exactly."

She shook her head, rolled her eyes, but grabbed her purse, and after checking to make sure she had her keys, she let him drag her out of the apartment toward the stairs.


Bellaniece wrapped a thick towel around herself and tucked in the end before padding out of the bathroom toward the kitchen to grab a bottle of water before shutting herself away in her bedroom for the night.

The trill of the telephone cut through the quiet of the apartment, and Bellaniece winced as she shook her head and hurried over to answer.  "Hello?"

"Hi."

She almost dropped the phone.  "Dr. Izayoi?"

"Yeah . . . You know, after the other night, I'd say you can drop the formalities."

Bellaniece's hand tightened around the receiver.  "I'd rather not, thank you."

"Yeah, all right.  I was a little harsh, and—"

"Were you?  I hadn't noticed."

"Belle . . ."

She sighed.  "Look, it's late, and I'm tired, so if that's all you called for, then I'll say goodnight."

"Wait!"

Bellaniece held the phone away from her ear and stared at it for several seconds before closing her eyes and sighing.  Grabbing her water off the table, she headed for her room "All right, what is it?"

"You . . . uh . . . you don't have to stay away from Gin."

"Really?  Wow, you know, that's really magnanimous of you."

"And I might have misjudged you at the restaurant."

Bellaniece closed her door and moved over to the window, perching on the sill as she let her head fall against the cool glass.  "Just at the restaurant?"

"Can you cut me some slack here?  I'm not good at this."

"Sorry to hear that.  I'd think that as often as you stick your foot in it, you'd have had a lot of practice by now."

"All right, I deserved that."

"Yeah, you did."

"Belle?"

"What?"

"Look out your window."

She lowered the phone against her chest and peeked outside.  A flash of silver waved in the breeze from just beside the structure.  Smothering a gasp, she dropped the phone as she groped the ledge to push the window open.  "What are you doing?" she hissed, leaning her head outside to glare at the hanyou perched on the three foot wide ledge that ran the width of the building just under her window.

Kichiro snapped his cell phone closed and stood up.  "I'm telling you that—"

"That you're crazy?  Do you know how far off the ground you are?  How did you get up here?"

"Are you worried, Belle?"

She snapped her mouth closed on whatever she had been about to say.  "Of course not!  Why would I be worried about you?"

"Admit it, wench: you like me."

"I will not because I do not," she grumbled.

"You do," he argued.  "Nice towel, by the way.  Do you always hang halfway out your window in nothing but a towel?"

Bellaniece gasped as she crossed her arms over her chest and glowered at Kichiro.  "Do you always sit outside people's windows?  That's rather stalker-ish, don't you think?"

"Is that a real word?  'Stalker-ish'?"

"It is now."

"And here I thought you'd be impressed at the lengths I've gone to, just for you."

"I'm not," she growled.  "You'd better leave.  I don't think my father—"

"You going to tell him?"

Bellaniece sighed.  "I should."

Kichiro sat in the open window, feet on the ledge below.  "You probably should."

"Daddy would kill you for coming over, especially after last night."

"He probably would."

"Not to mention that you're a complete jerk . . . You'd deserve the beating he'd give you if I told him."

"I probably do."

"Why did you come over here?"

Kichiro shrugged as he stared at the moon.  "I shouldn't have reacted like that yesterday."

Bellaniece grimaced when the telephone beeped the 'off-the-hook' tone and clicked it off.  "So you came over here to . . . assuage your guilty conscience?  Did it work?  Do you feel better now?"

"That's not what I meant," he grumbled.  "I didn't think . . . I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I'd have to care for you to hurt me," she forced herself to say.  She could even be thankful that her voice didn't falter at all.  She didn't like the slight stiffening in his back, the slight flattening of his ears, and she didn't like the instant regret that made her want to take back the things she'd said.  "Look, Dr. Izayoi, it's late, and I'm tired.  I think you should go."

He slowly turned his head, regarding her in the stillness.  He looked like he was considering his options.  Bellaniece tucked the end of the towel in a little more.  "I'll go.  I just . . . Will you answer one question before I do?"

Bellaniece nodded once, held her breath, knowing she wasn't going to like whatever question he had in mind.

"Why did you let me kiss you?  I mean, you said yourself, you don't care about me.  If you don't care at all, then why?"

"Call it curiosity," she answered, turning her face away, hoping he wouldn't see what she was trying to hide.  "It won't happen again."

"I see."

She waited for a moment, half of her hoping he'd leave, the other half wishing he'd stay while she told herself again and again that he was just trying to get to her, to prove he could.  He'd made his feelings abundantly clear.  He thought she was a spoiled brat; a child.  Bellaniece closed her eyes, bit her lip, dug her claws into her palms to keep herself from screaming.

'This is silly.  He can't hurt you.  You said you wouldn't let him.  Tell him to leave, Belle, and he'll go.  You answered his question, and he'll go.'

Bellaniece drew a deep breath and opened her eyes, started to speak, but the words didn't come.

He'd been true to his word, hadn't he?  In those moments . . .

Kichiro was gone.