InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 4: Justification ❯ Epiphany ( Chapter 81 )

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

Cain pushed a box out of his way with his foot before stepping over the clutter as he tried to get to the door.  His living room was staring to resemble a stock room since he'd been packing since he'd gotten up this morning.

"Zelig-san?" the courier questioned as Cain opened the door.

"Yes."

Accepting the clip board, he signed his name and took sealed envelope.  Kicking the door closed, he tore the red pull-string and retrieved the airline tickets: two one way tickets to New York City and the tickets for a connecting flight that would take them to Maine.

All he had to do was convince Gin to go with him.

Filing one set of tickets into the black leather folder he kept important documents in; he stared at the other tickets and sighed.  'Convince her to want to go?  I've tried that, haven't I?'

'Try harder, Cain.  We need her, don't we?  You've got to try harder . . .'

'Try harder . . . Okay . . .'

Rubbing the back of his neck, he tried to think of another way to convince her.  Every time he'd tried to bring it up in the two days since he'd first mentioned it, she'd changed the subject abruptly and pretended not to understand what he was trying to say.

He wasn't sure where she was now.  She was gone when he woke up.  He'd figured that she'd gone to class, but that would have ended awhile ago.  It was better that way, wasn't it?  Did he really want her to see him packing?  Then again, would it even matter?  She knew the truth, didn't she?  She knew he was leaving; she just didn't know when.  He'd been dragging his feet for the last two days.  Why had it been so difficult, to make that call?  Booking the flight home . . . and he hadn't realized until he was finished that he had secured two tickets.  Whether it was because he was used to dealing with planning for Bellaniece or just because he still needed to hope that he could somehow change Gin's mind, he wasn't sure, and in the end, he didn't—couldn't—think about it anymore than he already was.

The sound of keys rattling against the door drew his attention, and he slowly turned around.  Gin slipped into the apartment with her book bag over her shoulder, locking the door behind her.  Stopping abruptly as she whirled around, he grimaced as the color drained out of her cheeks.  Staring at the packing boxes with something akin to delayed panic registering on her features, she stepped back, slumped against the door, shaking her head as she swallowed hard.

"Thought I'd do some packing," he mumbled with an apologetic shrug.

"I see," she rasped, her voice low, raw just before she choked out a harsh little laugh.  "I don't know why it surprises me.  It shouldn't, right?  Does that mean . . .?"  She drew a deep breath, smiling uncertainly as she pushed away from the door and carefully picked her way through the maze of boxes.  "You've finalized your plans."

It wasn't a question; it was a statement.  Cain nodded.  "Yeah."

"When?  When will you go?"

"Friday morning."

"But," she said, shaking her head as confusion clouded her eyes.  "Today's Wednesday . . . You're going the day after tomorrow?"

"The moving company's coming tomorrow."

"Oh, I didn't realize . . . I should have . . ."

He caught her hand before she could turn away.  Gin tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace.  Cain shook his head.  "Come with me, Gin.  You can.  You should."

"Come with you . . . so you can help me?  Find a job after college?  And . . . what then?"

"There's that, if that's what you wanted.  Tokyo's a huge city, but it's not the entire world.  There're so many things you should see and do . . . Don't you want that, baby girl?  To see everything?  Do everything?  You could, you know."

"With you, Cain?"

"Do you . . . need me?"

Gin sighed and pulled her hand away, and he could feel it: the retreat of her youki as she closed herself away from him again.  "Gin—"

"I'll help you pack.  It's the least I can do, right?"

He didn't answer as he strode through the living room and down the hallway to the last room he had yet to pack up.  His studio still looked the same: a harsh reminder of how fast things changed.  Stopping to stare at the painting still hanging on the wall, Cain smiled sadly as he reached out to touch it.

Dropping a box on the floor beside the closet, Gin's quiet movements both comforted and tortured him.  Tearing his gaze away to look over his shoulder only to find her carefully stowing the contents of the supply drawers into the box, he winced.  "Stop, Gin," he said.

She did, casting him a curious glance.  "Did you want to pack something else in here first?"

He shook his head and looked back at the painting, reaching out with unsteady hands as he gently pulled it off the wall.  He'd painted it for her, for Gin.  His cake fairy . . .

"My painting," she murmured quietly, reaching out to take it from him.

Cain shook his head again, turned away so she couldn't take it.  "It's mine," he said quietly.  "I'm keeping it."

"Okay . . ."

Laying it on the worktable, Cain ground his teeth together when he turned back only to find her emptying the drawers again.  Striding over to her, grabbing her hands and pulling her back, he closed the closet doors and crossed his arms over his chest stubbornly.  "I said no."

"I was just trying to help," Gin said, ears drooping as she wrung her hands and shuffled her feet.

"Don't you get it?  I don't want your help."

"But—"

"Damn it, Gin, I don't want you to help me leave.  Just . . . go home, will you?  I can do this myself."

She flinched but nodded, backing toward the door.

Cain bit back the frothing swell of anger and sighed.  "Would you do something for me?"

"Sure."

Managing a weak smile, he shrugged.  "One last cake?"

She seemed surprised by his request, but she finally smiled just a little.  "I can do that.  You'll come over?  When you're finished?"

"Yeah."

"I'll make your favorite one: the chocolate coffee cake."

"They're all my favorites," he assured her.  "So long as you made them . . ."

Gin laughed softly.  "Okay.  I'll go make that."

He nodded and watched her go.

'What are you doing?  Don't let her leave!'

Cain shook his head and pulled the closet open, reigning in the perverse desire to demolish everything inside.  'She made her choice.  It's too late.  She made it, and it wasn't me.'

'Don't be stupid, Cain!  Change her mind!'

'I can't change her mind!  Don't you think I've tried?'

'Hell, no, you haven't!  You've danced around the subject; you've given her reasons, but you've never told her, have you?  You've never told her how you feel.'

'And just how can I do that?  Tell her, what?  That I love her?  That I'll die without her?  Tell her that if I leave her here, that I really won't have a fucking thing left?  How am I supposed to tell her all that and then tell her that I want her to choose what's right for her?'

'And if you're what's right for her?  What then?'

Dumping drawers haphazardly into the box, Cain shook his head and moved on to the next one.  'I don't get a choice, damn it!  Isabelle died because I never gave her the choice.  My mistakes, my stupidity, and . . . and Gin shouldn't stay with me because she feels sorry for me!  She deserves better.  She deserves the world.'

'Just tell her that you love her, Cain.  Tell her that, and let her make up her mind.'

Cain sighed and slumped against the wall, forehead resting on the cool plaster as he closed his eyes and willed the pain away.  'Tell her that I love her?'

His youkai didn't answer.


Bellaniece rolled over and tweaked Kichiro's ear.  Giggling as the appendage flicked away from her probing fingers, she tweaked it again.  Turning onto his side, he slowly opened his eyes to pin her with a calculatedly bored stare.  "Back for more, Belle-chan?"

She sat up and retrieved the cup of coffee from the nightstand before handing it over.  "I ordered room service."

"Give it," he demanded as he forced himself up and reached for the cup.  "Ugh," he sputtered as he swallowed the black brew.  "This stuff tastes like ass," he complained.

"I'm not even going to ask how you'd know that," she remarked as she tore the corner off a croissant and ate it.  "What are the plans for today?"

Kichiro chuckled and set the empty cup aside, catching Bellaniece's wrist and forcing the croissant to his mouth.  "Since Ryomaru and Nezumi will be here in a few days, I figured we should just . . . stay here."

"We could do that," she agreed, feeding him another bite.  "Are you sure you're not sick of being my mate yet?"

"Getting there," he teased.

Bellaniece giggled and stretched out on her stomach.  "I should call Daddy today."

Kichiro groaned and flopped back, dragging a pillow over his head.  "Do you have to?"

"Yes, I do.  I just want to make sure he's okay."

"Your father's fine, Belle . . ."

"I'll do it while you're in the shower.  How's that?"

Kichiro tossed the pillow aside and rolled out of bed.  "Fine, fine, but if you're still on the phone when I get out here, you'll be sorry . . ."

"Is that a promise?"

"Hide and watch."

She giggled again as he swatted her wiggling backside before ambling toward the bathroom.

'I adore that man,' she mused as she stretched and stood up.  He'd made her promise that the cell phones would stay in the living room area of the suite, and that was just fine with her.  Wandering through the luxurious room, she grabbed her phone and dialed her father's number before nabbing another croissant and heading back toward the bedroom again.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Daddy!  Greetings from Paris."

"Belle . . . having fun?"

Her smile faltered at the sound of the shortened version of her name.  "Absolutely!  It's beautiful here."

"Glad to hear it.  Dr. Reprobate behaving himself?"

"Of course," she giggled. "Well, as much as I'll let him."

Cain groaned.

"How are you and Gin?"

"She's fine . . . baking a cake for me at the moment."

"Good!  I'm glad."

The line cut out for a moment, and Cain sighed.  "I gotta go.  I've got another call coming in."

"More important than your only child?" she teased.

He snorted.  "Pfft!  Hell, no.  It's business, though.  Can't ignore that."

"Okay," she agreed, grinning at his wry tone.  "Daddy?  I really am sorry.  I just wanted you to know."

"It's fine.  I'm not angry."

"All right.  I'll see you when I get back."

Cain started to say something, but Bellaniece was already hanging up before she realized that he was still talking.  She was about to call him back when Kichiro strode back into the room.  Eyeing the phone in her hand, he quirked an eyebrow.  "You didn't call him yet?"

"No, I did.  I just hung up as I realized that he was still talking."

"Oh, good, you're done then."

"Well, I was going to call him back," she pointed out.

Kichiro crawled onto the bed and leaned over her.  "Yeah, I don't think so."

"It'll just take a moment . . ."

Fangs grazing over her collarbone silenced her.  "Later."

"Kichiro . . ."

He took the phone and set it on the nightstand.  "Much later."

Bellaniece closed her eyes, sinking her fingers into his damp hair.  ". . . Okay."


"Do you . . . need me?"

Letting the oven door slam closed, Gin set the cake on the top of the stove to cool and turned away to wash the bowl and utensils she'd used.

"Do you . . . need me?"

She frowned.  'That's the question, isn't it?  Do I need him?'

It was the question, all right: the one she didn't want to answer.

"Do you . . . need me?"

Turning the bowl upside down on a clean terrycloth towel to dry, Gin dried her hands on another towel and sighed.  'It's not about what I need.  What I want, what I need . . . none of that matters.  Cain's the one who has to want it—want me, and he can't even answer that question, himself.  How can he ask me, then?'

'Maybe that is his way of saying it, doll.  Ever stop to consider that?'

Gin wrinkled her nose.  'No . . . that's his way of saying that he'd take me with him if I want to go; his way of saying that he'd keep me if I need him.  He didn't say anything about needing me.'

'Do you really believe that?'

'Does it matter, what I believe?  It doesn't . . . It doesn't matter that I love him or that he's the one that I should have been with.  It doesn't even really matter if he loves me back because he still made that promise . . .'

Strange, how words would come back to her; things that were said that hadn't meant nearly enough to her at the time . . . things she should have taken as warnings, after all . . .

"Zelig will live, and Zelig will die, and all that will be said for him is that he held his damnable honor in the highest of regard, no?"

L'amont-san's words . . . They hadn't really made sense to her; not at the time.  They did now.  He'd been trying to warn Gin, hadn't he?  He'd been trying to tell her to be careful, not to get too attached to Cain because in the end, Cain had already made his choice . . .

Wetting a sponge, she wrung it out and began wiping the counters.  When her mother was worried or thinking, she cleaned, and Gin was just like her in that.  Whether it was an attempt not to think or a vain effort to make sense of things, Gin wasn't sure.  She felt compelled to clean; like she needed to do something or she'd lose what was left of her sanity.

"As long as you need me, Gin . . . As long as you'll have me . . . I'll stay with you."

What did any of it mean?

'What do you think it means?  Do you really think Cain would walk away if he knew?  He wouldn't.  He'd stay.  Just tell him, doll.  Just tell him.'

'No.  I can't.  I can't ask him to stay out of misplaced pity or a strange sense of obligation.  No, if he wants to stay, it needs to be because he wants to live.'

'So you've made up your mind already.'

Gin swallowed hard, dashed the back of her limp hand across her eyes.  'Yes.  Yes, I have.'

'But why?  Gin, do you know what it is you're committing yourself to?  Can you appreciate how huge this really is?'

'Mama told me to follow my heart.  Mama said . . .' trailing off with a sigh, Gin scrubbed harder.  'She said that I have to do what's right for me.  I wouldn't be happy if I didn't know he was here because it was what he wanted.  I couldn't be happy that way.'

'And where does that leave us?  Does it leave us anything at all?'

Gin smiled sadly and dropped the sponge into the sink before swiping the sketchpad off the counter and heading toward her bedroom to put it away.

'It leaves us with the memory of a very, very good friend,' she told herself sternly, stuffing the sketchpad into her top dresser drawer.  'It leaves me with . . . one day.'

'One day?'

Scowling at the paper bag still sitting on the dresser, she blushed.  She'd meant to throw the body paints and condoms away—Nezumi and Sierra's idea of a joke.  Gin put her hand down to steady herself against the wave of regret that overwhelmed her.  'So many things I should have told him . . . so many things I could have showed him . . . How can I fit a lifetime into one day?  How can I make him understand?'

'Don't cry, doll . . . save your tears.  If you fall apart now . . .'

If she fell apart, he'd know, wouldn't he?  If she crumbled to pieces . . .

Staring around the familiar room as tears pooled in her eyes but didn't spill over, Gin's gaze fell on the bag once more, and she slowly reached out, fingered the raffia handles.  'One day . . . just one day . . .'

"It was the first time . . . The first time I got to dance with anyone who wasn't family."

"You'll . . . You'll dance at your wedding, baby girl . . . and he'll be . . . the luckiest bastard alive."

Cain didn't know.  He didn't understand what she knew in her heart, in her soul.

There would be no wedding day for her, would there?  There wouldn't be dancing or laughing . . . There'd be no man to smile at, to tell him about the first man she'd ever really loved . . . In the end there'd be nothing at all for her, would there?  Nothing but one more day, one more smile, one more lie that she had to make him believe.

"One day," Gin murmured, staring at the bag.  "One . . . night . . ."

'Doll . . .'

She shook her head, caught the single tear that slid down her cheek.  'He told me before, right?  All I have to do is ask . . .'

She'd never been able to ask him for anything, had she?  Would it be so wrong to ask him for this?