InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 4: Justification ❯ Minor Adjustments ( Chapter 99 )

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

Bellaniece handed Sierra a bottle of water and sat on the sofa, smiling dreamily as the twins slept on the floor, completely oblivious to everything, deep in the thick black fur of Toga's Mokomoko-sama.

"I can't believe Toga lets the girls use that as a blanket," Bellaniece commented with a soft giggle.

Sierra set her water bottle on the coffee table atop a thick cork coaster.  "Yes, well, it was either that or quit working for awhile."

"Oh?"

She nodded then sighed.  "It wasn't such a big deal before.  He was home a lot more when Coral and Cassidy were babies, but since Sesshoumaru has decided to hand over the reins of Inutaisho Industries, he's been working a lot later recently, and the twins know it."

Bellaniece grimaced when Sierra sighed again and made a face.  "Sounds like you don't like that, either."

"I can't tell you how many times he's put in twelve hour days or more.  Just gets tiring, but he promised that things will slow down a little, once everything settles down from the change in management."

"The girls miss their daddy."

Sierra raised her eyebrows and slowly shook her head.  "They cry when he's gone, like they know he should be there but isn't.  Two weeks ago, when he had to go to Hong Kong for a meeting, all either one of them did was cry.  I told him that we're all going the next time, whether he likes it or not."

Bellaniece thought that over.  It was a distinct possibility, she figured.  Youkai and hanyou were used to belonging to two-parent families, weren't they?  If that really were the case, was she fussy as a baby, too?  Had she known on a purely instinctive level that her mother hadn't been there but should have been?

Sierra didn't seem to notice Bellaniece's reticence.  Tucking a strand of fine strawberry blonde hair behind her ear, she sighed and waved her hand dismissively.  "Anyway, enough about me.  How are you and Kichiro doing?"

"We're fine," Bellaniece replied automatically, almost absently.  "He's been busy . . ."

Sierra narrowed her gaze as she eyed Bellaniece carefully.  "You don't sound fine."

Forcing a bright smile, Bellaniece shook her head.  "No, no . . . We're fine, really.  He's just been really busy lately."

Sierra winced.  "I know that feeling.  I've got to admit: I was a little jealous of you and Kich before.  Nothing like seeing a new couple to make you see how blasé everything's become, right?"  She made a face and took her time, drawing a long draught from the bottle of water.  "I love Toga.  I adore Toga.  Sometimes, though . . . I sort of miss the way things were when we first got married, I guess."

"He . . . Kichiro . . . fell asleep in his study last night," Bellaniece admitted quietly.  "He's been working so hard lately . . . I didn't have the heart to wake him."

Sierra nodded.  "Toga's done that before.  It used to happen a lot, especially when he started taking over more of the responsibilities in running the company."

"Does it ever . . . stop?"

"Sure . . . but it won't if he doesn't know it bothers you."

"So . . . you told Toga that it bothered you?"

Sierra nodded.  "I had to.  He can't read my mind."

Bellaniece sighed and stood up.  "I should be going.  Maybe I'll stop by Kichiro's office . . . See if he's going to be working late today."

Sierra offered her an encouraging smile.  "Talk to him, Belle."

She bit her lip as she slowly retrieved her purse.  "It's his job, right?  I can't complain about his job."

Sierra nodded.  "Maybe, but . . . Toga told me before, that his first responsibility is to make sure that I'm happy.  I'd imagine that Kich's is, too."

"I think I'm just being stupid," she admitted quietly.

"If it is important enough to upset you, then it isn't stupid at all."

Bellaniece smiled.  "Thanks."

'Could it really be as simple as Sierra thinks?' Bellaniece wondered as she strolled down the street.  It was the first really nice day of spring, and she'd decided against calling a taxi to take her to the Inutaisho house.  After months of forced confinement because of the weather, the last thing she wanted was to be cooped up inside a cab, and the walk, she figured, would be good for her.

'She just said what I've been telling you for weeks,' her youkai pointed out.

Bellaniece jabbed the light indicator on the corner of the street, then poked it again for good measure.  'It's not that easy, though.  I shouldn't complain, should I?'

'Face it, Belle.  Sierra was right.  If it bothers you, then you should tell him.  Maybe you're overreacting, but still.  Do you really think that Kichiro wouldn't want to know if you were feeling a little neglected?'

Bellaniece winced, feet moving automatically when the street light changed.  She wasn't sure when the changes had started.  They hadn't happened all at once.  More like a gradual shift into what could have been considered a more normal routine, by the time Bellaniece had realized what was going on, she had tried to tell herself that it was normal; that it was the way things were supposed to be.

Kichiro was gone by the time Bellaniece awoke in the mornings—off to work over an hour or two early sometimes, with the muttered excuse that he wanted to review cases before the patients came in.  He might call around lunch time, just to let her know that he was thinking of her, but those calls were few and far between, and they usually only lasted a minute or two and somehow left Bellaniece a little sadder than they should have.  She was never quite sure when he'd come home.  Some evenings, he'd be home around six or seven.  Some nights, like last night, he hadn't stumbled through the door till nearly nine.  He ate the half-cold leftovers that Bellaniece had reheated for him, and without a word, he'd shuffled off to his study to work on his research well into the night.

And it wasn't the first time he hadn't come to bed, either.  Waking around two in the morning only to realize that she was very alone, she'd found him sleeping in his desk chair, his research spread all over his desk.  Ignoring the melancholy that surged through her, Bellaniece had dug a blanket out of the closet and carefully tucked it in around him, kissing his cheek before quietly slipping back to the empty bed on the other side of the house.

She glanced at her watch and sighed.  Nearly noon . . . Heaving a sigh, she stepped over to the street corner to hail a taxi.  She wanted to be at the office by the time Kichiro took his lunch, and she'd never reach it on time if she walked . . .


Gin laughed, leaning to the side as she tried to avoid the yipping puppy.  The wiggling mass of fur kept lunging at her face, intent on licking her cheek.

"You like him?"

"He's so cute!"

Gin held her hand up to keep the puppy at bay as she smiled up at her mate.  Cain knelt beside her, watching the exuberant animal's actions.  "I'd hardly call him 'cute', baby girl," Cain commented.  "That is one ugly dog."

"That's not true!" Gin argued, her tone offended as she picked up the wiggling puppy.  "Did you hear that, puppy?  Daddy says you're ugly!  You're not ugly, are you?  No way!" she crooned in a high-pitched tone that Cain likened to the sort of voice that a mother used with an infant.

Cain rolled his eyes but grinned.  The eight-week-old puppy—a mix of Rottweiler and Great Dane with God only knew what else thrown in—yapped and wiggled out of Gin's grasp, running a large circle in the early spring grass before completing the circuit long enough to lick Gin's hand before running off again.

'That's cheap, Cain, just so you know.'

'Don't know what you're talking about.'

'The hell you don't.  You think that giving Gin a puppy is going to distract her, and it might . . . for a time.'

He sighed.  So his youkai had a point.  The trouble was that he'd seen that look on Gin's face just a little too often of late.  It had been easier before Christmas.  So caught up in the learning of new customs and in the decorating and excitement of the season, she'd been busy—and happily so.

On his suggestion, she'd taken over the handful of charities that Cain was associated with.  They were all youth-based, though, and when she went to meet with the people involved, she'd come home rather quiet and a little reflective for awhile.  The worst one had been the Portland Children's Hospital.  She'd gone on a tour of the facility, and seeing the children who were all there for health reasons had affected her for weeks.  Still she had refused to step away from the charities, and when she'd figured out exactly what Christmas was, she'd insisted that Cain help her buy gifts for all the children who wouldn't have the luxury of waking up in their own beds on Christmas morning.  Shortly after that, she'd suggested starting the Zelig Foundation, and with Ben's help, she'd managed to garner the support of many.  In the months since its inception, the foundation was up and running with Gin and Cain, who still hadn't quite figured out just how she'd managed to talk him into it, as the honorary chairs.  Created to support and fund research that was being done primarily to aide children, the foundation hadn't taken long to get set up, and, by her own admission, it was something that Gin loved.

Cain closed his eyes for a moment; let the gentle spring breeze filter through his bangs, tossing his hair into his face, letting the soothing wind ripple over his mind, his soul.  It hadn't been until after the holiday season that he'd first started to notice the hint of sadness that she'd get when she thought that he wasn't looking.

Standing at the window, staring off into space, he'd seen the same look on another face at another time, hadn't he?  Sure, the reason for the look might be different.  Isabelle had longed for the life she'd left behind, but Gin . . . He had a feeling he knew what she wanted.  He just didn't dare put it into words . . . The memory of what had happened with Isabelle . . . It was enough to keep Cain awake for nights at a time.

So he thought he'd get Gin a dog, but not simply to distract her, either.  Ever since the incident with Cal Richardson, Cain couldn't help but worry that the miserable bastard would show up again, even if he was fairly certain that Richardson was too much of a coward to do anything of the sort.  At least the dog would help to protect Gin when she was out on one of her walks—the ones that she told Cain she'd rather go on alone.

"He needs a name," Cain pointed out, draping his limp arm over his raised knee and gesturing absently at the hyperactive dog.

"Hmm," Gin mused, leaning her head to the side and pondering the question.  She stole a glance at Cain and quickly kissed his cheek before returning to her plight again.  "What would you name him?"

Cain thought it over.  "Something big and tough . . . like Bruiser or Spike or something," he suggested.

Gin wrinkled her nose as the puppy ran back to yip at her before sprinting off again.  "But he's not big or mean . . . he's just a baby . . ."

"He won't stay a baby," Cain argued.

Gin giggled.  "I think I'll call him Punkin."

"Punkin?" Cain echoed, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.  "As in . . .  cutesy punkin?"

She nodded.  "Come here, Punkin!" she hollered.  The puppy's ears perked up, and he loped back to her.

Cain groaned but smiled.  "I should have known," he grumbled despite the smile still on his face.  "You've emasculated the dog now."

Gin shoved Cain's shoulder.  "He likes it," she informed him haughtily.  "It'll do just fine."

Cain pulled a face.  "Punkin," he grumbled.  "Only you, baby girl . . ."

She giggled and scooted closer to him.  "I love him.  He's great!"

"I'm glad."

'Only because she can't see your true motives, you coward.'

'Shut up, you.'

'Eventually the newness of the dog is going to wear off, and then you'll still have to deal with what you don't want to deal with.'

'I could have sworn I told you to shut up.'

'A dog might fill that void she's feeling for now, but face it, Cain.  You took her away from her entire family; you moved her thousands of miles away from them.  You effectively cut her off from everything she's ever really known, and the only thing she has is you.'

'She loves being with me.'

'Maybe, but you should realize, right?  As much as she loves you, you can't be everything to her, and a girl like Gin needs more.'

'More . . .'

"Gin?" he asked suddenly, turning to face her.

"Hmm?"

"Why don't you call your folks?  See if maybe they want to come visit?"

She blinked in surprise, a slow smile lighting her eyes as she bit her lip and held her breath.  "You . . . you mean it?  You wouldn't mind?"

He forced a smile since having InuYasha anywhere in the same hemisphere did bother him more than he cared to dwell on.  "Of course I don't mind."

She started to hop up then made a face as she checked her watch and sat back down.  "I'll call in a little while.  It's pretty early over there . . ."

"Okay," he agreed.  "Whenever . . ."

"Thank you, Cain."

He smiled.  "You're welcome."

Stealing a sidelong glance at the woman in question, he frowned as she rolled to her feet and chased after the puppy.  It was the first time he'd heard her laugh—really laugh—in days . . . weeks . . . and it didn't help that he knew that, as much as Gin might want this elusive thing, she'd never, ever give voice to it.  In his mind, he could hear her whispering; could sense what it was that she truly wanted.

'Go ahead; admit it.  It's really not as bad as it sounds in your head.'

Cain grimaced inwardly and sighed.  'The hell it isn't.'

'Still, if you don't admit it now, you never will.'

He sat back and stared at his wife.  Running through the yard with the puppy fast on her heels, she laughed again, and that laugh . . .

Cain closed his eyes, let the sound of her voice fill his mind even as it shattered his calm.  It wasn't what she wanted that had the power to leave his soul in tatters; it was the all-too vivid memory of the last time, and while the woman might be different . . .

'God, she's so tiny,' he thought, eyes narrowing as he watched Gin frolic with the puppy.  He, better than anyone, knew just how diminutive Gin really was.  Hanyou, yes.  Strong, yes.  'Damn it . . . so tiny . . .'

'Women have babies all the time.  What happened with Isabelle . . . do you really think that it will happen to Gin?'

Logically, no, he didn't really think that.  Logic, however, was a tough thing to reckon.  She was more vital to him, more precious . . . if something happened to her, there really wasn't any way he could possibly get over it and go on.  To lose Gin would destroy him, and he didn't even try to convince himself otherwise.

Still, the whisper in his head wouldn't go away, and every day it grew a little louder, a little more daring.

He'd give her anything, wouldn't he?  Give her whatever she wanted, no matter what it cost him, but in this . . . this time . . . He swallowed hard, blinking back the moisture that gathered in his eyes as the voice took on a life of it's own, determined to be heard, and for once, Cain couldn't ignore it.

'I want a baby, Cain . . . that's what I really want.'


"So what do you think, sensei?  Do you think I have fat thighs?"

Kichiro glanced up from the file on his desk and nearly rolled his eyes as the woman stood up and turned, thrusting out her hip for his inspection as she leaned on the arm of the chair.  Her blood-red lips quirked in a provocative smile, and he could only manage a tepid little grin in reply.  "Does it matter, what I think, Takumi-san?"

"Well, you're a man, right?  Ever since my husband died . . . I get lonely . . ."

"Is that right?"

"Oh, absolutely."  She slipped onto the edge of the desk and leaned down to look Kichiro in the eye.  "Do you get lonely, sensei?"

"Actually . . ."

"Why would he?" another voice—angry and distinctly female—chimed in.  Kichiro leaned to the side and grinned as Bellaniece pushed herself away from the doorframe and strode into the room.  Sitting back and crossing his arms over his chest, he waited for Bellaniece's tirade to start.

'Do you really think it's a good idea to let her have at the poor woman?'

'Hush . . . I need popcorn . . .'

'This is serious, Kich!  Plain or buttered?  I prefer buttered . . .'
'Me, too, but I don't have any here.  Shut up, will you?  Belle's looking rather irritated.'

"You are . . .?" Bellaniece asked, crossing her arms over her chest and leveling a pointed look at the woman who hadn't moved from her perch atop Kichiro's desk.

The woman cast Bellaniece a tolerant little smile.  "A patient, of course.  This is a private consultation, if you please."

Bellaniece smiled tightly.  "My husband doesn't keep things from me, madam, though I don't doubt for a moment that he wouldn't mention you.  You are, after all, so far beneath his notice."

The woman blushed and sat up straighter.  "You married such a young thing, sensei," she commented, her cool gaze flicking over Kichiro and obviously meant to insult him.

"Young, maybe, but I wonder . . . Given that he has a wife like me—" Bellaniece said, holding her hands up and offering the woman an insincere little grin, "—why on earth would he ever want anything to do with a woman who has to have plastic surgery to fix her flaws?"

Takumi-san blushed scarlet and slowly rose from the desk.  "Flaws?" she squawked.  "Flaws?"

Bellaniece brushed the woman's anger aside with a bright smile that she bestowed on her mate.  "Why else would you be here, if not to fix something that you makes you realize how much you lack in your physical appearance?"

The woman opened and closed her mouth a few times, distinctly reminding Kichiro of a fish out of water.  She couldn't even muster words as she snatched her purse off the chair and stalked out of the office, slamming the door in her wake.

Bellaniece laughed—until she met Kichiro's gaze.  Her laughter died away only to be replaced by a light blush as she bit her lip and slowly shook her head.  "I think I just cost you a patient."

"Come here, princess."

She slipped her hand into his and let him tug her onto his lap.  "I'm sorry."

"Don't be.  I think I can afford to lose a patient here and there for such a worthwhile cause."

She rested her head on his shoulder and sighed.  "I was just in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop by for lunch."

"I wasn't going to take a lunch break," he confessed.

"You're working a lot lately."

"I know . . . It's just for a little longer."

"And you fell asleep in your office."

She could tell he winced even if she didn't look at him.  "I didn't mean to."

"I know . . . I just . . ."

"I hate to rush you, but I've got another patient in a few minutes."

She sighed, sitting still for another moment before finally, slowly, standing up.  She masked her upset quickly, but not quickly enough for him to miss it.  Her eyes dulled, glazed over, and she blinked quickly before she turned away.  "I'll just go, then . . . When will you be home?"

He sighed, too.  "I'll try to be early, but I can't make any promises."

"I know."

Her aura lingered long after she'd quietly pulled the door closed behind her.  Kichiro stared at the open file on his desk and let out a long gust of breath.  Bellaniece's smiles were growing more strained, more forced, and he knew that it was because of him.

'What do you expect?  You haven't spent much time with her lately.'

Kichiro grimaced and shoved himself away from his desk, jamming his hands into his pockets as he strode over to the window.  'That'll change.  I just have to get things in order . . .'

He wasn't sure when the idea had solidified in his mind.  Sure, Bellaniece had mentioned it before, that he would be happier, changing his area of specialty from cosmetic surgery to reconstructive surgery instead.  In doing so, he'd be working with people who actually needed his services instead of those who simply wished for perfection when perfection wasn't really an attainable goal.  After Bellaniece had mentioned that he could likely get underwritten by either his uncle or even her father—'Fat chance of that,' he thought darkly since he'd rather roast in the fiery bowels of hell than ask Zelig Cain for a damned thing—he'd started to consider it more seriously.  Even the youkai research he was conducting could be underwritten.  After all, the things he learned would benefit youkai everywhere; not just a select few . . .

Trouble was that he was knee deep in trying to finish off patients and working on referring them to other surgeons, and the work was taking longer than expected.  What he had thought would be a simple undertaking was taking so much longer than he had anticipated.  He'd wanted to surprise Bellaniece with the change, knowing that it would make her happy, too, but he had wanted to wait until it was all finished, and that would be awhile in coming.

'Just hold on, Belle-chan . . . I'm doing this for us . . .'

He winced as Bellaniece crossed the street below, her head lowered, her shoulders slumped, her arms wrapped over her stomach protectively.  

He'd thought he was doing a good thing; keeping all of it as a surprise . . .

Seeing the sadness that seemed to radiate from his mate, though . . .

'Maybe I should just tell her . . . Maybe that will make her smile . . .'