InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 5: Phantasm ❯ Smoke and Mirrors ( Chapter 1 )

~~Chapter 1~~

~Smoke and Mirrors~

 

 

'Your father is going to kill you.'

 

Bas Zelig grimaced as he slammed the door of the late-model Ford Bronco and faced the imposing edifice of the mansion he called home. `It was hardly my fault,' he argued. `Dad would have killed me if I hadn't done a thing.'

 

`Tom was your best friend, idiot. Safe to assume he's not anymore.'

 

Bas snorted as he strode toward the doors and up the wide porch steps, stopping long enough to set up a pot of his mother's beloved lilies that has fallen over. `Like I care,' he scoffed. `Tom had it coming.'

 

`Yeah, and about that . . . Do you think your parents are going to be pleased? You were kicked out of law school, you know. I don't think either one will be impressed . . .'

 

`It was boring. I wouldn't have lasted an hour as a lawyer, anyway . . .'

 

`Oh, well, that's good reasoning for you. Never mind you'll be damn lucky if Tom doesn't press charges for battery.'

 

Bas didn't bother answering that as he stepped inside the mansion.

 

“Sebastian? You're home early,” Gin Zelig said, setting aside the dust cloth as she hurried over to welcome her son home. He had to bend down to receive the greeting. Wincing at the long version of his name, Bas sighed and brushed a chaste kiss over his mother's cheek. “Class cancelled today?”

 

He shrugged. “Well, uh, no,” he grumbled, staring at his feet and wondering just why his tiny mother had the ability to make him feel about five years old without even trying. “I . . . got kicked out.”

 

Gin had been retrieving the cloth. It fell from her fingers as she whipped around to stare at her son. “What?”

 

He cleared his throat. “I was expelled,” he stated a little louder.

 

“But why? How?” Gin blurted then shook her head as she waved her hands in a dismissive gesture. “Never mind that. I'll have your father call. I'm sure it was just a misunderstanding . . .”

 

“Forget it, Mom,” he said as he headed for the stairs. “I didn't like it, anyway.”

 

“Sebastian—”

 

“No, it's fine,” he interrupted, taking the stairs three at a time in his haste to get away from his mother's line of questioning. Mother was easy to evade, but his father . . .

 

It was safe to say that people didn't normally evade Cain Zelig. The North American tai-youkai was a force to be reckoned with, and Bas wasn't looking forward to his father's demands for answers. Grimacing as he heard the light footfalls of his mother following him up the stairs, he didn't have to be brilliant to know that she was probably heading straight to Cain's studio. He'd give it ten minutes before his father was knocking on his door.

 

Sebastian grimaced. It only took five. “Come in,” he called, bracing himself for the rapid-fire interrogation that Cain normally reserved for those who had displeased him.

 

Filling the doorway with his nearly seven-foot-tall frame, Cain Zelig crossed his arms over his chest and stared thoughtfully at his oldest son. “Your mother said you were kicked out of law school. Care to tell me why?”

 

Bas sighed. “It isn't important. Just a disagreement.”

 

“A disagreement doesn't get you kicked out of school,” Cain argued. “Try again, son.”

 

“It was stupid. Tom was running his mouth, and I shut it for him, was all.”

 

“Tom was . . .?” Cain sighed, knowing well enough that Bas' friend had a nasty habit of saying stupid things at the wrong time. Normally harmless enough, Cain figured Tom must have gone a little too far, or maybe Bas had just heard it one time too many. Either way, it wasn't the first he'd heard tale of Tom's having said something stupid, but it would be the last . . . “Running his mouth about what?”

 

Bas shot his father a glower that might have ordinarily have earned him an upbraiding. Cain seemed to realize that it wasn't necessarily directed at him, and he simply waited for an explanation. “What do you think? The same shit he always says.”

 

Cain's bland expression dissolved behind a mask of controlled irritation. “He's just not the brightest bulb, is he?”

 

Bas snorted. “Pfft! No, not really . . .”

 

He looked reluctant to ask, probably because he knew that whatever it was, wasn't good. In the end, curiosity won out over trepidation, and he heaved a sigh. “Okay, I'll bite. What did the little punk say this time?”

 

Bas made a face. Cain knew that Tom had a habit of fairly drooling over Bas' mother. He had since he'd hit puberty. As far as Bas was concerned, he'd issued enough warnings on the subject. Apparently, they hadn't stuck in his friend's head, though, and Tom, in Bas' considered opinion, had deserved the walloping he'd gotten. “Nothing much . . . just details of things he'd love to do to Mom . . .”

 

Cain grimaced. “I hope you wiped the floor with him.”

 

Bas sighed. Sure, Tom had overstepped himself. Still, Bas was nearly full-youkai, and with that came almost freakish strength in comparison to mere humans like his ex-friend. He'd been told forever that he had to control his temper. One hit from a youkai would probably kill a human, and while Bas had controlled himself enough not to cause lasting damage, he had caused damage enough. “He's . . . got a broken arm . . . and nose . . .” Bas confessed.

 

Cain nodded slowly. “I'd have done worse,” he grumbled. “Is he going to press charges?”

 

Bas shrugged. “Don't know . . . I doubt it.”

 

“As much as I hate to, I suppose I should call and offer to take care of the medical bills . . . Consider yourself lectured over the ramifications of fighting with humans,” he said, “so if your mother asks . . .”

 

He nodded, tugging off his shirt before rifling through his closet for his practice hakama. “Yeah, fine . . . `Don't fight with humans because they're weak and pathetic, blah-blah-blah . . .' I got it.”

 

Cain rolled his eyes but let the subject drop.

 

“Hey, Dad . . .”

 

Cain stopped and turned to face his son once more. “Yes?”

 

Bas dropped his jeans on the floor and pulled on the hakama. “I was thinking . . .”

 

“I'm listening.”

 

“Since I can't go back to school and the odds of transferring aren't good, considering . . . You, uh, got an opening for a hunter?”

 

“What?”

 

Glancing up as he tied the pants—a gift from his grandparents—Bas grimaced at the foreboding expression on his father's face. “I thought I could hunt for you.”

 

Cain sighed. “I hate your uncles, you know that? Didn't used to hate Ryomaru, but I think I do now . . .”

 

“It isn't Uncle Ryo,” Bas maintained. “I'm just not cut out for a nine-to-five job, Dad.”

 

“And that's a good reason to become a hunter?”

 

“No, but I can do it. I've been trained.”

 

“And I hate your grandfather, too, by the way . . .”

 

“This isn't about the old man or anything,” Bas said, referencing his grandfather in what InuYasha Izayoi considered to be the highest respectful title any of them could use. Well, Gin and her younger brother notwithstanding. They called him `Papa', as did Bas' half-sister Bellaniece, who was married to Gin's brother, and that was another can of worms that Bas would rather not open . . .

 

Bas had spent almost every summer vacation since he was eight with his grandparents in Japan, learning how to fight and being trained in tracking and hunting skills. It was considered that since he would one day usurp his father as North American tai-youkai that he should be trained, and in the tradition of old, he'd received his training not from his father, but from his grandfather, and a couple of summers had been spent with Toga Inutaisho, the next Japanese tai-youkai. The belief used to be that one's father would not be as diligent in training, and while InuYasha had taught all of his children the skills, Cain had been fostered by InuYasha's older half-brother, Sesshoumaru, the Japanese tai-youkai as well as the overall Inu no Taisho. Cain hadn't liked the idea of sending his eldest son to Japan, especially not at the tender age of eight, but Gin wanted her sons trained by her father, and when Bas had quietly voiced his own desire to go, Cain had made the arrangements.

 

The ruckus that preceded the youngest of Cain's sons made Bas roll his eyes as he sank on the edge of his bed and slowly shook his head. “Does he have to make so much noise?” he grumbled moments before Evan Zelig poked his head into his brother's room.

 

“Busted!” Evan hissed with an incorrigible smirk. “Is it true? Daddy's boy got in a fight?”

 

Bas shot his father a look. Cain reached over and thwapped his youngest son across the back of his head. “Don't pester your brother.”

 

Evan's grin widened. “About time you grew some balls. I was starting to wonder . . .”

 

“Go crawl back under your rock, brat,” Bas retorted.

 

“So what did good ol' Tom say this time?”

 

“Does it matter?” Bas countered, nearly tripping over Badd, his butt-ugly dog. A mix of several breeds of very large dogs, Badd actually stood for Big-Ass-Dumb-Dog, but since Gin objected heartily to the name, Badd's name had been shortened. Badd cocked his knobby head to the side, tongue hanging out as he slobbered on the floor. All in all, he looked fairly stupid—hence his name—but Bas loved him, anyway.

 

Evan shook his head. “Not really, but you can't blame the poor bastard for looking. I mean, being completely objective, Mom is hot.”

 

“Hey!” Cain barked.

 

“Makes me wonder why she married an ugly mutt like Dad,” Evan joked.

 

Cain snorted. “Pfft . . .”

 

“Your father isn't ugly,” Gin scolded as she brushed past her youngest son to slip her arms around Cain's waist.

 

“Daddy? Ugly? Puh-leez!”

 

“Oh, my God . . . is there a reason why every one of you nutters has to be in my room?” Bas grouched as fifteen year-old Jillian Zelig ferreted her way past Evan to hug Cain's other side.

 

“You're not still mad about Lisa, are you?” Jillian asked with a disapproving shake of her head.

 

Bas snorted but didn't deign to answer. So what if Lisa, his last girlfriend—and the one before that, come to think of it—had become smitten with his father? Bas wasn't upset about that; not at all . . .

 

“There's just something about the brooding artist-type,” Lisa had said.

 

`Brooding artist? Right . . . Dad hasn't `brooded' since he met Mom . . .'

 

Lisa had just laughed at him, patting his hand as though he were no better than a pup in love with his babysitter.

 

“I still don't see the need for the family reunion,” he grumbled, glowering pointedly from one sibling to the other, neither of whom got the message that they were welcome to leave.

 

“So did we find out why Bassie was expelled?” Jillian asked, ignoring her brother's obvious irritation.

 

“Fighting,” Cain answered simply.

 

Gin looked shocked. “Fighting? Sebastian Kaemon Zelig!”

 

“You got the full name treatment!” Evan chortled. “Really, really busted!”

 

“You're about to get the full `foot-up-your-ass' treatment if you don't get the hell out of here,” Bas growled, advancing on his brother.

 

Gin stepped over, placing a hand in the center of her eldest son's chest to stop him. “No swearing at your brother, Sebastian.”

 

“Sorry, Mom,” he grumbled as Evan laughed out loud.

 

“That's not the real issue,” Cain interrupted with a sigh. “Bas wants to become a hunter.”

 

Gin blinked, mouth falling open. She closed it and swallowed, shaking her head as she stared from her mate to her oldest son and back again. “A hunter?”

 

Cain seemed to think of something, and he grinned. “Yep, a hunter, Gin. He wants to be a hunter, just like your brother. Isn't that great?”

 

Bas winced. He knew his father's ploy: banking on the idea that Gin was going to disagree completely, Cain waited for the gauntlet to fall. “I think he'd be a good hunter,” Gin finally said.

 

“What?” Cain demanded.

 

“Go, Mom,” Evan muttered.

 

“Shut up,” Bas growled at his brother.

 

“Bassie? A hunter?” Jillian remarked with a raised eyebrow. “When donkeys fly . . .”

 

“Don't you have someone else to pester?” Bas demanded. “Where the hell is your damn Gavvie when he could be useful?”

 

“You leave Gavvie out of this,” Jillian complained, her expression registering her instant hurt at Bas' below-the-belt attack.

 

Bas ignore the stab of guilt over having reminded Jillian of her one-sided love affair with her childhood friend, Gavin—Gavvie, for short.

 

“Yeah,” Gin stated, nodding her approval. “He's been trained by the best, and he is your son, Cain. He'll be fine. I think you should give him a shot.”

 

“Eh?” Cain rasped. “Gin . . .”

 

“I should call Papa. He'll be so proud,” she said, turning to speed out of the room before Cain could stop her.

 

“I want to talk to Grandpa!” Jillian hollered as she ran after her mother.

 

The tai-youkai heaved a sigh and shook his head slowly, sparing a moment to eye his eldest son before turning on his heel and striding out of the room. “Damn it . . .”

 

“Swe-e-e-eet!” Evan exclaimed, grinned as their father pushed past him to follow his wife. “If you get slaughtered, I'll be tai-youkai,” he remarked as he grabbed an autographed football off the dresser. “Choice.”

 

Bas stood up and snatched the ball out of his demented sibling's hands before slapping Evan upside the head. “Dad'll live forever if you're his only heir,” he shot back, thumping the football onto the dresser again before shoving his brother out of his room.

 

Evan chuckled and retreated across the hall into his upstairs bedroom that he rarely used since the basement had been soundproofed for his musical delusions, slamming the door behind him.

 

Bas let out a deep breath just before the vaguest hint of a smile surfaced. A hunter . . . he could do that.

 

 

-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-