InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 4: Justification ❯ Solitude ( Chapter 84 )

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

"So your father and I figured that this was the last time we'd have to get away for awhile since the baby's due in the next couple months," Kagome said absently as she hurriedly packed both her suitcase as well as one for InuYasha.  "I'm surprised he was so easy to convince, really, but he's been so worried about budget cuts in the martial arts department of the school, and the after hours program has already been affected . . . But you don't want to hear about all that, do you?"

Gin took the small stack of shirts from Kagome and carefully laid them in the suitcase.  "I don't mind, Mama," she replied quietly.

Pausing long enough to arch her back, stretching with a grimace, she yawned then shook her head.  "Honestly, I don't remember being this exhausted when I was pregnant with your brothers and you . . . Of course, that was awhile ago, wasn't it?"

"Is it bad?"

Kagome laughed.  "No . . . I just feel tired sometimes, and with the excitement of your brother's wedding . . . I guess I really could use this vacation."

Gin smiled wanly and pulled a few pairs of jeans out of another drawer.  "You're not overdoing, are you?  Papa worries . . ."

Kagome smiled tiredly and dug into another drawer for her clothing.  "I'm fine, despite your father's wishes that I'd just lay down for the entire pregnancy.  Enough of that.  How are you?  You look a little peaked."

"I'm fine, Mama.  Just . . . classes are a little stressful."

Kagome's smile widened.  "You're eating, right?  You seem a little thinner."

Gin sighed.  "Yes, I've been eating.  I've been sleeping, too.  I've also been busy; that's all."

"And Zelig-san?  You haven't mentioned him today."

Gin faltered in packing and bit her lip, forcing back the stab of pain that always accompanied the mention of that particular name.  "He's fine," she said, careful to keep her tone light, even.  If she couldn't fool her mother, then she had no hope at all in convincing her father . . .

"You look like you have something on your mind."

Sinking down on the edge of the bed, Gin twisted her hands together in her lap.  "My art theory class has a trip coming up.  They're going to visit ancient shrines all over Japan . . ."

Kagome nodded, smiling as though everything finally made sense.  "Ahh . . . and you're afraid your father won't want you to go along?"

She swallowed hard and nodded.  If her mother thought that her mood was caused by worry over her father's reaction to the field trip, then she wasn't about to disabuse her of that.  "Yeah."

"Well, it is for class, right?  That shouldn't be such a horrible thing.  Just make sure you take your cell phone."  Kagome made a face and continued packing.  "Then again, cell phone coverage is so bad in some areas . . . Don't worry; I'll tell your father about it."

"Okay.  Thanks, Mama."

"Why don't you go see what he's doing?  I'm almost finished in here, anyway."

Gin stood up and hugged her mother, fighting back the sting of tears that rose in her eyes.  The sharp kick from the baby made Gin hop back, and she bent down to pat Kagome's belly.  "Yeah, I know, but she's my mama, too."

"He kicks your father all the time," Kagome giggled.

"He?  Do you know for sure?"

Kagome rubbed her distended belly and shrugged.  "Not for sure, no, but it's a feeling I have . . ."

Gin nodded.  "Oh . . . I'll bet he'll be beautiful."

"All my children are beautiful," Kagome pointed out, kissing Gin's cheek before squeezing her shoulders.  "I'd better hurry.  Your father wanted to leave as soon as he got some things taken care of, and if I know him, he'll be hollering in the next few minutes."

"Okay."  Gin headed for the door but stopped to look at her mother one last time.  Calmly packing the suitcases in her usual quiet way, Kagome projected the sense of tranquility that Gin missed; the childish notion that her parents really could fix everything.  "Mama?"

Kagome stopped and glanced at Gin.  "Yes?"

Gin shook her head.  "Nothing."

Kagome crossed her arms atop her belly and sighed.  "Be careful on your trip, but have fun.  I loved running around Sengoku Jidai with your father, and even if that world's gone, the ancient places are still there.  Who knows?  Maybe you'll visit some of the same places your father fought to protect."

"You be careful, too.  Let Papa fuss over you some."

Kagome rolled her eyes.  "Oh, don't worry about that.  Your father does more than enough fussing over me."

"I love you, Mama."

"I love you, too, Gin.  Now go check in with your father.  He was grumbling earlier that you never come around to see him anymore."

"That's not true!" Gin protested.

Kagome laughed again.  "I know it isn't, but you know your father.  If you don't come by at least once a day, he thinks that the sky's caving in."

Turning away from the door as she tried not to think about any of it too hard, Gin shuffled down the hallway into the living room.  She didn't need to look to know that her father was in the loft.  Climbing the stairs, she tried to brush of the sense of déjà vu—the stupid wish that he would be standing there in the middle of the loft, as he had been during Bellaniece and Kichiro's reception.

"Oi, baby girl.  Was wondering if you were going to stop in before we left," InuYasha grumbled without glancing up from the paperwork littering his desk.

"Of course I would, Papa.  I was helping Mama pack."

"Is she about ready to go?  She's always been fucking slow . . ."

"She's almost finished," Gin assured him, pacing the floor as she stared out the windows at the expanse of the back yard and the pond.  She'd grown up out there, in those woods.  Chasing her brothers, climbing trees, scraping her knees, smiling, laughing—always laughing . . . "Mama seems a little tired."

InuYasha snorted.  "Keh!  I told her that she didn't need to plan your brother's wedding, but you know Kagome."

"Mama thinks you worry too much."

"Yeah, well, she don't worry nearly enough."

"She says the pup's a boy."

"Kami forbid.  As if your brothers weren't bad enough."

Gin smiled.  "But you'll still love him."

InuYasha snorted again but didn't argue.  "You sure you'll be okay here?  You could come with us."

"I've got classes, and a trip coming up.  Besides, you and Mama need some time alone before the baby's born."

"Trip?"

She winced.  "With my art theory class.  We're going on a tour of ancient shrines."

He looked up at last, his gaze suspicious.  "Did you talk to your mother about this?"

"Yes, Papa.  She thought it sounded fine.  She even said that I might get to see some of the places you used to fight."

InuYasha seemed slightly warmer toward the idea.  "We fought all over," he grumbled despite the almost pleased light in his gaze.

"I'll be careful," she offered.

"Damn straight, you will be."

"Anyway, I was going to stop by to see Ryomaru and Nezumi before they left for Paris."

InuYasha shook his head.  "Dunno what your brothers are thinking.  They're both out of town, too, but then if something comes up, you can always call Toga, I guess."

"Yes, but Toga and Sierra are pretty busy with the twins."

InuYasha grinned.  "Yeah, your uncle wasn't too pleased about that.  Four daughters—no heir."

"You're a little too amused by that, Papa."

"Keh.  Serves the bastard right, after all that bullshit."

"With Toga-kun and Sierra-chan, you mean?"

"Of course.  Dumb ass could have prevented all that if he hadn't been so fucking stubborn . . ."

Gin shifted uncomfortably and tried to smile as she hurried over to hug her father.  "Papa?"

"Hmm?"

"Be careful."

"Ain't that what I'm supposed to say to you?"

She smiled.  "Well . . ."

He stared at her for a moment before sitting back in his chair and sighing.  "We were going to save it for later, but I might as well tell you.  We're building a house for you in that clearing where you used to play."

"Really?"

He nodded.  "Yeah . . . Figured you'd be happier in the forest."

"You're the best papa, ever," she rasped out, unable to hold back the tears that pooled in her eyes.

InuYasha wrinkled his nose.  "What's with the water works?  It's just a house . . ."

"Thank you."

"Keh," InuYasha snorted but hugged her.  "Best get going if you want to see your brother before he leaves for Paris."

Gin nodded and kissed InuYasha's cheek before turning slowly, wiping her eyes as she moved toward the stairs again.

"Oi!"

She stopped.  "Yes?"

"What shell do you want, baby girl?" he asked, reciting the line that always came just before he and Kagome left for the beach house.

She smiled and shook her head.  "The most beautiful one on the beach," she replied.

He nodded, and Gin ran down the stairs, through the living room and foyer, out the front door before she could break down in tears.

Leaning against the solid cherry tree in the middle of the front yard, Gin closed her eyes and struggled to breathe.  'I love you, Mama . . . Papa . . . I love you, and I'm sorry . . .'


Cain shuffled through the sand, hands jammed in his pockets; head down as he stared at the ground beneath his feet.

Two days.

Two days since he'd last seen her; touched her.

'Gin . . .'

If he had a dime for every time he'd reached for his cell phone only to jerk his hand back . . . He'd never realized just how long two days could really be.  They were empty and never-ending, full of memories of things that he'd taken for granted: the touch of her hand, the brilliance of her smiles . . . the simple joy of hearing her whisper his name . . .

How did things go so wrong?

Scowling at the sand, he kicked a rock into the water.

Or maybe it was just how it was supposed to be, after all.  Maybe it was the most divine sense of justice he would ever know.  Maybe he hadn't really killed Isabelle—when had he realized that?  Maybe he hadn't been solely to blame, but maybe this—what this was costing him—maybe that was no more than a bastard like him really deserved.

'Gin made you realize that, didn't she?  She showed you what you should have known all along.  Isabelle chose her path, and so did you.  You loved her, certainly, but there is no honor in dying.  You should have known that, and promise or not, you should have known then that she never, ever would have wished that for you.'

And that was true, wasn't it?

Perhaps the worst of it, though, had been the journal he'd found lying innocently on the table beside his bed: Bellaniece's journal.  Bone weary from lack of sleep, from traveling straight home, from too much thinking and not enough answers, he'd been meaning to lie down awhile, even if he knew in his heart that sleep was a miserable dream.

He hadn't intended to read it.  He really hadn't.  Figuring that his daughter had left it there accidentally—had she written in it in his room, seeking the comfort of her parent—he had picked it up to take it across the hall to her room but stumbling in the dark, he'd dropped it.  Kneeling, he frowned, catching glimpses of Bellaniece's neat script darkened in the hazy light of the full moon, he hadn't meant to read it, but three words caught his eye under the date that put Bellaniece as having just turned seventeen years old, and those three words . . .

'I'm so scared.'

Cain stopped and sat in the sand, staring out over the ocean without seeing a thing.  'I'm so scared,' she'd written.  His daughter, his pride, the reason he'd lived for so long . . . He winced.

Her fear?  No, it wasn't that she couldn't find a dress to wear to the high school prom.  It wasn't a fear of the little things that should have made up a teenage girl's life.  She'd feared something far, far uglier; something that Cain had tried to shelter her from for so long that it had become second nature.  He'd never realized, had he?  He didn't realize that Bellaniece, with her shining eyes, her bright smile, had known far more than he had ever wanted her to know.

'I'm so scared.  It's stupid, isn't it?  Fearing things that I can't really control, and yet I know when I look at him that there are things that he refuses to say.  Whether he thinks I can't handle it, or if he thinks that I'm still just a little girl, he won't ever tell me, will he, because it's his job to protect me, just like I try to protect him from the things that I am not supposed to know.

'A boy asked me to the game tonight.  Bevelle High is taking out our biggest rivals in the conference.  He seemed nice enough.  I turned him down because David might have had a fit.  Ugh, it's just too stupid, really.  I like Dave, don't get me wrong.  He's a nice, but he's just not 'the guy' . . . Maybe it's better this way.  Maybe I keep seeing Dave because it's easy.  There'll never be a choice with him.  Is that cruel?

'I guess that it just bothers me more, now when I think about it too long.  I used to wonder about that strange sadness in Daddy's eyes, when I would tell him that I'd get married and have lots of babies.  I never really stopped to think about it—about what it would mean, in the end.  I think I understand it now.  Finding my mate means that I'll lose Daddy, doesn't it?  Finding my mate means that I'll have to choose . . .'

That had been more than enough for Cain.  Letting his head slump back against the wall as the journal slipped out of his hands, he hadn't moved again until well after the sun rose.

He hadn't realized just how much Bellaniece had figured out over time.  She'd never told him, and why?  'Because,' he thought, smiling sadly as he lifted a handful of sand and watched it blow away on the breeze.  'Because she never wanted to hurt me . . .'

How often had he looked at Bellaniece over the years; looked at her and saw Isabelle shining through?  How often had he glanced at her only to have to look again because the girl he loved so dearly had suddenly appeared to be Isabelle in his eyes?  'Strange but true,' he thought as he shook his head.  'Bellaniece really is so very much her mother's child . . . How did I not realize that sooner?'  And his silence when he'd tried to protect her . . . it had hurt her worse in the end than the truth might have in the beginning . . .

"When you saved Bellaniece . . . Don't you see?  When you saved your daughter, you saved some of Isabelle, too."

Letting his head drop between his raised knees, covering his neck with his hands, he squeezed his eyes closed, tried to stop thinking.  He didn't really think it would work . . .

'But the promise . . . That damned promise . . . I made it, and it doesn't really matter, when I did it.  I still made it; I knew I did . . . I can't go back on it . . . Can I?'

'Isabelle was already dead, Cain.  Face it, can't you?  You tried to save her—you tried your hardest.  Did you really think marking her at that time in that place would work?  You knew she was dying, and you still tried.  Can't you let that be enough?'

'But I . . .'

'And you know a part of you died that day, too: a part of you that you can't ever have back.  The innocent belief that the world wasn't so cruel . . . you lost it that day . . . You can let that part of you stay dead.  It's not too late, right?  If you think that dying now would serve any real purpose, then you're a fool.  Think of what Bellaniece has believed for years.  Think about Isabelle, and what she wanted, in the end.  Think about Gin . . . think about what she wanted for you.  She's a part of you, Cain—a part of us.  Can't you hear her?  Somewhere—wherever she is—she's crying . . .'

Gin, the flash of silver; a light in the darkness . . .

Cain grimaced.

The beautiful girl with the curious wonder in her expression as she smiled at him despite the blush staining her cheeks . . . "Okay, I'm all yours."

The panic he could sense the moment he'd stepped off the stairs at the top of the landing, and the hanyou girl bent over, trying to jimmy open the lock on her door . . . "I locked myself out."

Gin, tugging Cain's arm, rising up on her toes as he bent forward, and kissing his cheek, all for the wings of the fairy . . . "A beautiful thought!  I love them!"

On her knees with her hands in the air looking entirely pleased with herself as he stared in mute fascination at the finger-painted lines on her belly . . . "I'm the great and powerful, magnificent, awe-inspiring, ferocious and virile North America tai-youkai, Cain Zelig."

Wearing that transparent dress with the iridescent wings of the fairy clipped to her back, scowling at the sketchpad with an air of wonder in her eyes . . . "I don't look . . . I don't know . . . like a little girl.  I don't look short or silly or . . ."

Cuddling against him on the floor in the study of his Chicago house, and Gin, beautiful Gin . . . "I wanted to know you, the way you know me."

Lying in the bed patched with moonlight filtering through the window, holding his arm tightly, as though she were afraid to let go . . . "What'll I do when you leave?  What'll I do when you're gone?"

Gin, sitting in the middle of her bed with her hair spilling over her shoulders and her heart in her eyes as she asked him for the only thing she really wanted . . . "I want you to make love to me, Cain."

Unable to contain the angry growl that welled up inside him and spilled out into the waning light of day, Cain shook his head, shot to his feet, turned on his heel and stomped away again.  'That's all she really wanted, isn't it?  That's all she asked of me . . . She . . . She, what?  Wanted my body, to hell with the rest of me?  I gave her . . . I gave her my heart, but all she asked for was . . .'

'All she asked for was what she thought you could give her.  Don't be stupid, Cain.  You don't really believe all that.  She never wanted anything that you were unable to give her, and maybe—just maybe—even asking for that was more than she wanted to do.'

'That's stupid!  Gin . . . Gin . . .'

Stopping abruptly as one last memory—one last image—-crashed down on him, Cain groaned and stumbled back, stumbled away, but he couldn't shake it, not at all.

And finally Gin, standing in the living room in her tiny pink silk bathrobe, pressing the shell into his hand, trying to smile through the tears that stood in her eyes . . . "It's my favorite one, you know?  The one I . . . love best."

'What . . . What now?  What can I . . .?  How do I . . .?'

His youkai sighed, more of an exhalation of breath than a sound.  'Find a way to honor Isabelle, Cain.  If you honor her . . .'

Cain closed his eyes again as a strange sense of grim determination sputtered to life.  'Honor Isabelle . . .?  And if I do that . . .'

'And if you do that, you can be free.'


"Move it, baby girl.  You're in the way."

Gin rolled her eyes but stepped aside as Ryomaru stomped past with two suitcases in his hands.

Nezumi smacked her mate's arm and shook his head when he grinned unrepentantly at her.

"Looks like I was just in time," Gin commented as the two watched Ryomaru carelessly tossing the luggage into the trunk of his car.

"Are you sure you don't mind checking up on Yukitora?  We're leaving enough food in her self-feeder in the garage, but—"

"She'll be fine," Gin assured Nezumi.  "If she can live through being with Ryo-nii, she can live through a few weeks of dry food."

"That's true.  We normally just fill that up and leave her alone," Nezumi said with a sigh.  "She hunts in the forest too, I think.  Hope she'd not wild when we get back.  Seems like everyone's leaving the forest right now."

Gin didn't comment on that as she shuffled her feet in the grass.  Ryomaru loped over to them, bestowing a loud, slurpy kiss on Nezumi's cheek.  Nezumi winced and wiped it off on her shoulder before wrinkling her nose at her husband and slowly shaking her head.  "You sure you'll be okay, runt?" Ryomaru asked, turning his attention to his sister as he slung an arm around his wife.

"Sure," she told him with as normal a smile as she could muster.  "Just fine.  You don't have to worry about me."

"Yeah, I know, but it sounded good."

"Baka," Nezumi grumbled, tugging Ryomaru's ear.

Ryomaru inclined his head and flicked his ears out of Nezumi's grasp.  "Not to rush you off, you know, but if we don't get a move on it, we'll miss our plane."

"Be careful," Gin admonished, touching her brother's arm with a tentative hand.  "Planes can be dangerous."

"That's what he keeps saying," Nezumi remarked with a mischievous grin.  "I think he's scared."

"Not fucking likely," Ryomaru grumbled.  "Want me to bring back something for you?"

Gin shook her head and tried not to let her smile falter.  "No . . . I don't need anything, just . . . take care of each other."

"Sure thing."  Turning to his mate, Ryomaru gestured with his hands.  "What are you waiting for, wench?  Now or never."

Nezumi seemed surprised for a moment when Gin hurriedly stepped forward and hugged her.  Turning to her brother, she hugged him, too.  He eyed her for a moment before shrugging and shaking his head.  "Stay away from those girly movies, Gin.  They're making you soft, you know."

"Baka," she murmured, but her smile widened.  Ryomaru might not understand her, but he loved her, didn't he, in his own way.  She watched them get into the car and waved as they pulled out onto the narrow driveway.

'So that's it?'

Gin nodded, rubbing her arms with her hands as she stared around the peaceful forest.  'I guess so . . . all but Toga-kun . . . and Kichiro-nii-chan.'

Toga, she would go see later.  Kichiro . . . Gin frowned.  She owed him an explanation, didn't she?  Her hero, her friend, her brother, and in the end, her confidante . . . She'd have to find a way to make him understand so that he didn't blame himself for any of it . . .

Odd, how things seemed the same.  Maybe that was the real wonder of the world.  Even when one person felt as though everything was falling apart, the world kept moving, didn't it?  She'd almost expected some sort of cataclysmic event, some sort of marking of the time.  She'd set out this morning to do the things she needed to do; see the people she needed to see.

Sighing as she turned around and walked away into the forest, she couldn't even summon the tears that she ought to be shedding now.  No, all that she felt was an oddly comforting sense of complete resignation, as though every moment of her life had led up to this one.

If anyone had asked her a few months ago, how she would tell those she loved goodbye, she wasn't sure if she could have answered.  Now she knew, didn't she?  She'd say it with a smile, a hug, with the unwavering belief that even if they didn't understand why she'd make the choices she had, that they loved her, too, because . . .

Because she couldn't trade her memories of Cain, wouldn't want to, even if she could.  Every single one was precious to her, and maybe if she couldn't have him forever, at least she would always have the memories . . .

Sinking down on a fallen tree, Gin rested for a moment before pushing herself to her feet once more.  Her body was already breaking down—she could feel it in her very bones—and by the time that everyone realized that there really hadn't been a class trip at all . . .

'Mates are meant to be together . . . even in whatever comes after death.  If that's the case, then Cain . . . Maybe he'll find me there . . .'

And that thought made her smile as she pushed herself to her feet and continued on the long trek home.