InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Russet and Rust ❯ Russet and Rust ( Chapter 1 )
[ A - All Readers ]
Winner of mod's choice in Live Journal's iyfic contest, Week #46, “Ten Years in the Future” theme. Thanks again to leian for serving as BETA editor on this story. As always, reviews and critiques are eagerly welcomed and appreciated. Inuyasha is a creation of Rumiko Takahashi. Thank you for reading!
Russet and Rust
Shippou and Ayame shared the same color of russet hair.
When he first came to live with the wolf tribe, the young fox demon was fairly certain that hair color was all he and Ayame had in common. After considering the matter for a few short weeks, he decided that he was sure, and dismissed further comparisons from his mind. Ayame was rough and bossy, and she had little sense of humor.
Ayame wasn't much like Kagome either.
Shippou missed Kagome every day. After the Shikon jewel shards had been reassembled, and Naraku finally defeated, Shippou had stayed with Miroku and Sango for a time. It hadn't worked out particularly well for anyone. The human villagers just barely tolerated a known trickster like a kitsune living among them and, for his part, Shippou found village life—the drudgery of repetitive tasks and dull responsibilities—tiring. When Kouga happened to encounter them a few years later, and offered Shippou a home with his wolf youkai, everyone sadly agreed that it might be for the best.
And on the whole, the choice had been a good one. Shippou had grown comfortable with Kouga during the time that the young wolf leader had joined forces with his friends shortly before Naraku's downfall, and he found that he liked him just as well now. Kouga and Ayame had married, and had already added three gruff and rambunctious members to their growing clan. It was nice to live among demons again, and from a purely practical standpoint, Kouga was strong enough to protect him from any large and possibly hungry predators. The other wolves and pack members did the food gathering and patrolling, and as the friend and guest of their leader, Shippou was delighted to discover that very little was expected from him.
Finally, and unlike Miroku (who discouraged him from continually dwelling on the past—even something from the past as warm and as good as Kagome), when Kouga was in his better moods he was willing to indulge Shippou's reminiscing.
“Kouga, do you ever think about Kagome?” Shippou would prompt, waiting eagerly for the familiar answers he had heard a dozen times before.
“I'll never forget Kagome,” Kouga would assure him. In the background, Ayame juggled three squirming wolf cubs—one balanced on each hip and another tugging on her skirt. “Kagome was the most beautiful human I ever saw.”
“Yeah, that Kagome was some woman. I'll never understand what she saw in somebody like Dog-Breath.” From the edge of the river, Ayame yelled at two of the boys to stop fighting and clean up, as she dunked a third dirty, struggling, and sputtering image of Kouga beneath the water.
“Ayame's alright. But that Kagome was something special.” Kouga missed Ayame's glare as, heavily pregnant, she slammed a steaming platter of roasted meat beside the sprawling teenager and her husband.
Talking about her helped, but Shippou still missed Kagome.
One afternoon, Shippou stood admiring his reflection in the river. His bushy tail was red and glossy, and he had grown leaner and taller in the past ten years. He wasn't as strong as the wolf youkai, but he was quicker and—as he smugly noticed more and more—innately cleverer.
He beamed at his reflection. He was becoming quite an accomplished kitsune. Father would have been proud of him. Kagome would have been proud of him.
The grin of his gently rippling reflection faded. Shippou idly began picturing Kagome. Long black hair and bangs, pretty cheeks—
The reflection in the river began to transform.
A kind mouth, round human ears, a nose—
A nose…
A NOSE…
He clamped his eyes shut and screwed his brow in concentration.
Kagome's nose…
His eyes flew wide.
He wasn't remembering her nose!
He couldn't have forgotten. He knew he could remember. It was Kagome. KAGOME. And Kagome's nose was—
He tried pert. Button. Straight.
Rapidly, he began flipping through every human and youkai nose he had ever seen. In the water's reflection, Kagome's nose formed, molded, and reformed again.
Long. Tiny. Rounded. Aquiline. Snub. Pug. Snout.
“Aggh! Not Snout!” he shouted.
Shippou faced the awful, terrible truth.
He had completely forgotten Kagome's nose.
Snout-nosed Kagome's shoulders slumped in defeat. It was all his fault. He should have practiced every day, he should never have allowed her face to fade from his memory. How could he have so betrayed Kagome's memory?
He felt utterly miserable.
When he returned to the cave that afternoon, downcast and dragging his feet along the ground, Ayame was jostling and cooing to the family newest—and noisiest—addition. Despite the distraction, she looked at him curiously. Shippou managed a weak, polite smile that faded quickly.
The infant's wailing broke off into a series of occasional sobs, then hiccups, and finally, silence. Ayame cautiously lowered the child into a rough cradle, lined with soft white furs. She motioned for Shippou to join her, and tip-toed to the opposite side of the cave, where she flopped against the wall and slid down to rest on the floor. Shippou sat cross-legged beside her.
“Kinta's teething—he's been crying like that for three and a half hours.” Ayame took a deep centering breath, exhaled, and brushed strands of hair away from her eyes. She looked at him. “So, what's bothering you today?”
“How did you notice?” asked Shippou glumly.
“I know what it's like to be unhappy,” she reminded him, “I remember what it looks like.” Her impatience melted, and she softened her mouth into a smile.
Shippou responded to her encouragement. “I think I'm beginning to forget what Kagome looked like. I wish—I wish I could see her again.”
Ayame's bit her bottom lip sympathetically. “I'm sorry, Shippou.” She wavered a moment, then continued. “I was still a girl when Kouga saved my life. After that, I thought about him all the time—wishing I could see him again...”
Shippou knew the rest of the story. When Ayame finally had seen Kouga again he didn't even remember her, and had dismissed her in favor of Kagome (though to be fair, Ayame had been trying to force him into marrying her). The two were quiet; Kinta's even, childish snores echoed peacefully throughout the cave.
“You know, you're really perceptive,” Shippou finally spoke, feeling oddly uncomfortable and relieved to change the subject. “Kouga never notices when I'm feeling sad.”
“Kouga doesn't understand sad so well.” She smiled again.
Shippou nodded, acknowledging the truth of the observation that had never occurred to him. Kouga didn't understand sad. He sure understood mad—and things like loyalty, leadership, and courage. But when Kouga remembered Kagome, it wasn't the same as when he remembered Kagome. Kouga could be sentimental, but he wasn't unhappy; and while he might tell others, and even himself, that he regretted that Kagome never became his wife, the truth was he was just as content with the current state of things. Ayame not only understood feelings of regret and disappointment, she recognized them in others, and she cared.
It was something Kagome would have done.
“I thought finding all the shards of the sacred jewel and defeating Naraku would make everybody happy,” Shippou burst out. “But after it was all over, I started to miss it. I missed traveling with Kagome and Inuyasha, I missed Kagome bringing us ninja food, I missed Inuyasha's complaining, I missed Kagome saying `SIT!' I sometimes wish that Naraku was still alive and that we were all still together! I wish it wasn't over!” He paused, fired by the sudden thrill of his confession. “Do you ever wish you could go back in time, Ayame?”
She looked genuinely surprised at the question. “No, I married Kouga. I have everything I want now.”
Shippou felt disappointed. He had a feeling, somehow, that Kagome wouldn't have been as content in the same circumstances. Ayame was really nothing like her.
“Hey there!”
Kouga's voice called out from the mouth of the cave. He entered with an accompanying cacophony of wolf children chattering and rough-housing. Kouga leaned over Kinta's cradle.
“Wake up, kid! Daddy's here,” he said, reaching down to wiggle one tiny foot.
Kinta woke, sniffed irritably, and promptly began to howl.
Kouga picked him up, patted him absently a few times on the back, and passed the now-screaming and drooling child back to Ayame. She took him, and sighed.
“The boys and me just finished up a training run. I'm dropping them off before I go out again.” A burst of staccato yelps erupted as one of the boys began gnawing on his brother's leg. Kouga nonchalantly plucked the culprit up and deposited him several paces away. “What are your plans?” he asked Ayame.
“I've gotta clean out the den this afternoon. I see they've tracked in mud—again.” She looked resigned.
“Women's work,” Kouga snorted, with a good-natured wave of his hand. “Shippou, let's you and me go down to the river. I'll have Ginta and Hakkaku catch fish for us.”
“Thanks, Kouga…” The pleasure of lolling on the cool bank with two demons forced to answer to his beck and call was alluring, and his temples were already beginning to throb from the onslaught of shrieks and wailing. He hesitated; thinking again of Kagome. Shippou groaned inwardly. “I think I'll stick around and help Ayame.”
Ayame grinned in thanks.
Kouga shrugged. “Suit yourself,” he said.
Shippou braced himself with determination, even as he felt Ayame and Kouga's second-youngest beginning to chew on his tail. Because even if he couldn't quite remember what Kagome looked like, the memory of what she was like was glowed warm as copper in his heart.
And if he couldn't be with her, he could be like her.
And to be truly like her, he was going to have to practice more often, and prevent those skills from getting rusty.