InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Separation ❯ Calm ( Chapter 12 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Disclaimer: I don’t own Inuyasha or any of the publicly known characters, plot, etc.  I’m just renting them from Rumiko Takahashi, Viz, etc.   I do own the plot of this story and any original characters I’ve created.  I will make no money from this fic; I write for my own enjoyment and the enjoyment of my readers.


Fanfiction of the Week:  A New Game, by BlackMamba07.
BlackMamba07 says this story is “fluffier than the easter bunny.”  It’s not quite that fluffy, but don’t expect an angst-fest either.  Has kept me very entertained the three or four times I’ve read it.  


Calm


It was late afternoon by the time Inuyasha reached his riverside campsite of two nights prior.  His wounds had healed significantly during the day, but he decided to stop for the night because they were still hindering him.  That, and another meal of roasted fish sounded divine.  He caught and cooked his dinner with customary efficiency, and leapt up into a nearby tree just in time to watch the sun sink below the horizon.  The vision brought old memories to the surface; before he met Kikyou, he had spent many an evening observing the sunset.  Back then, nature had seemed like his closest companion.  The trees provided comfort, a place to rest his head.  The forest critters of course provided food.  He had spent his adolescence simply surviving, scraping by on his own luck and skill.  Looking back on it now, he probably had more in common with predatory animals at that time than with humans.  

That had all changed when he met Kikyou, the lonely priestess guarding the one thing he desired more than any other.  He intended to take the Shikon no Tama by force, but his human heart would not allow him to harm her, just as it prevented her from harming him.  So they had become companions, and slowly, Inuyasha readjusted to life among humans.  And eventually, he came to realize that the Shikon no Tama was not what he desired, after all.  More than anything else, he longed for companionship, and in his most optimistic moments he even dared to hope for more.  For a brief time it appeared that his dreams would be realized, and he would have done anything to make it happen, even if it meant giving up a part of himself.  Then it had all come crashing down, and the fragility of his relationship with Kikyou was exposed for all the world to see.  

For fifty years he lay dormant, but for him it might as well have been the blink of an eye.  News of Kikyou’s death had shocked him, and so had the appearance of her clumsy reincarnation.  After he first woke, he had spent nearly every quiet moment brooding on his lost love and how it had all gone so horribly wrong.  Fortunately, Kagome’s presence did not allow for many such moments.  Almost immediately she had started attracting danger at a ridiculous rate, and between rescuing her and hunting jewel shards he had little time to think about Kikyou.  He and Kagome had become fast friends, even if he was too blind and stubborn to see it at first.  She had saved him from his dark past and forced him to help people, the same humans who had spurned him as a child.  It was truly baffling how she brought out the best in him, in everyone, and he had difficulty imagining a world without her.  

And yet, he was now living in that very world.  He reached into his haori, fingering the small box of herbs that would hopefully lead to the reopening of the well, and Kagome’s return.  He smiled at the thought.  He had been unable to let her go after Kikyou’s resurrection, and had inwardly rejoiced when she returned and promised to stay by his side.  And now that he no longer intended to join Kikyou in hell, he saw even less of a reason to release Kagome from her promise.  He needed her by his side; her absence was demonstrating that clearly enough.  And as odd as it was for him to acknowledge needing anyone, he had no problem admitting just that in Kagome’s case.  Slowly, the rhythmic chirping of the crickets and the gentle rocking of the tree in the wind lulled him to the point of slumber, his eyes drooping irresistibly.  Idly he wondered if Kagome missed him as much as he missed her.  

Inuyasha woke before dawn and leapt down from his perch.  He yawned and stretched, and was pleasantly surprised when he felt only a small twinge from the wound in his torso.  He sprinted around the forest for a moment, testing his strength, before smirking excitedly.  He took off at a run, relishing in the feeling of the wind whipping through his hair.  All through the day he ran, stopping only once to refresh himself at a convenient stream.  And just as the sun was dipping below the horizon, Shinobu’s mountain came into sight.  He arrived just after dark to find Shippou and Kasumi eating together at the cave entrance.  

“Inuyasha, you’re back!  Did you get all the herbs, or did you screw it up?”  

He snorted.  “Of course I got ‘em, runt.  Don’t assume I always fuck everything…up?”

Inuyasha suddenly found himself staring at a near-perfect replica of himself.  The illusion was visually stunning, and the runt spun around, revealing that he had even managed to hide that kitsune tail of his.  Hell, even the scent matched his own to a degree that a lesser nose wouldn’t notice the difference.  And when the kit spoke, it sounded like his voice as well, though what Shippou actually said left Inuyasha significantly less impressed.  

“That smart, handsome young fox Shippou-sama only thinks I screw everything up because I do!  I screwed up being nice to Kagome, I screwed up not going to see Kikyou every time she calls, and I screwed up telling Kagome how I fee—”

BONK!!!  

An annoyed but satisfied Inuyasha stormed past into the cave, leaving Shippou lying on the ground in his kitsune form, a rather large lump on his head.  His eyes swirled dizzily, and Kasumi was hard-pressed to contain her giggle.  

“You know,” she admonished, “you probably shouldn’t antagonize him.”

“Totally…worth it.”

The next morning they set out, Shippou guiding Shinobu and Kasumi toward Kaede’s village.  Of course, they weren’t actually walking; Shinobu whistled and a large, russet-colored horse youkai came galloping up out of the valley.  Inuyasha dashed off to retrieve Sango and Miroku from the human village he had told them to wait at, promising to catch up later.  He warned the kit on pain of…pain not to get lost.  But Shippou was adamant that he knew the way back, and Inuyasha decided to give the kid a chance.  He had a feeling Shinobu was more than capable of handling any trouble they should run into, despite her wizened appearance.  

When he arrived at the village he received a familiar reaction, as cries of “Youkai!” filled the air.  Usually people would just watch him warily and whisper behind his back, so he was surprised when he found himself surrounded by a crowd of angry men wielding swords.  These men are just farmers…how did they get those swords?  Something didn’t add up, but Inuyasha could detect the scents of his friends, so he stood his ground.  Sure enough, Miroku pushed through the crowd, and relaxed his fighting stance upon seeing who the youkai actually was.  Turning to the villagers, he held up his hands to quiet their shouts, and to Inuyasha’s amazement they actually became silent almost immediately.  Okay, now I know something’s up.  

“Good people, this particular youkai is a friend of mine.  I assure you he means you no harm.”  Then he beckoned Inuyasha to follow and the crowd parted to allow them to pass.  He still felt eyes boring into the back of his head, but he didn’t let it bother him.  

“What the hell is going on, bouzu?” Inuyasha whispered, somewhat exasperated.  “Can’t I leave you two alone for a few days without you getting into trouble?”  

Miroku could only smile sheepishly.  “The trouble found us this time, I assure you.”  

“Keh.”    

“I wish you had shown up a day earlier.  We could have used your help, though we managed on our own.”  

By this time the two men had reached a small hut on the other side of the village, one that smelled suspiciously like Sango’s blood.  When they entered, Inuyasha found the taijiya lying on a futon in the center of the room and covered by blankets, Kirara squatting by her ear.  She opened her eyes and nodded her head in greeting.  

“Hey, Inuyasha.  How did your quest go?”  

The hanyou shrugged.  “Fine.  I’ve got Shippou leading Shinobu—the youkai we were trying to meet—back to the babaa’s village.  What happened to you?  You look like hell.”  Her face was pale from blood loss, and her hair was frizzy and disheveled.  

“Have a seat, Inuyasha,” Miroku interjected before Sango could reply, “and I’ll tell you what transpired while you were gone.”  

For the next few hours the three companions shared their stories.  The two humans found Inuyasha unusually talkative—for him, of course—but chalked it up to the fact that everything seemed to be going right for a change.  They decided that Miroku and Sango would remain behind and return to Kaede’s village when Sango was healthy.  Inuyasha departed to catch up with Shippou, promising that Kagome would be waiting for them when they returned.  He rejoined the kitsune’s group well before nightfall, and was pleased to find that Shippou was heading the right way.  They arrived at their destination just before dusk the following evening, having been able to move at the horse youkai’s walking pace.  

Shinobu dismounted and ambled up to the well without needing to be prompted.  The jyaki emanating from the structure permeated the clearing, as did Naraku’s revolting scent.  The old youkai peered down into the abyss and contemplated silently for several moments.  Then she climbed onto the lip of the well and drew a foul-smelling herb from a container produced from her robe.  She held the leaf up and closed her eyes, muttering an incantation in an ancient, forgotten tongue.  Her voice slowly built in power and intensity until finally she yelled the last words and flung her arm downward.  The leaf glowed with a fierce blue light as it descended, the resulting explosion lighting up the darkening sky.  Then the radiance faded, and the jyaki returned, as strong as ever.  

Shinobu’s face reflected a mixture of sadness and disbelief.  “That was my most powerful spell,” she said quietly, “breaking this seal is not within my power.  I am sorry, Inuyasha.”  

The hanyou’s heart plummeted, his hopes shattering as the strength left his legs.  He slumped back against the well for support, closing his eyes as he attempted to hold back unbidden tears.  

“Who cast this spell, Inuyasha?”  Shinobu’s question allowed him to turn away from his depressing thoughts.  

“Naraku.  He used the tainted Shikon no Tama.”

“Hm, I have heard rumor of this Naraku.  If half of what I have heard is true, he is truly a vile creature.  I cannot break Naraku’s seal, but if it was created with the power of the tainted Shikon no Tama, then it stands to reason that the pure Shikon no Tama would be able to remove it.”  

Inuyasha felt hope kindle within him once more; his momentary despair seemed so foolish now, but he had been unable to help it.  For a brief moment he knew he would never see Kagome again, and it had nearly been enough to break his spirit.  Since when had he been so fragile?    

“In the meantime,” Shinobu continued, “is there anything else I can do to repay my debt to you?”  

Inuyasha thought about it, then shook his head.  “Nothin’ else I really need, unless you can tell where that bastard Naraku is.”

The old youkai smiled, surprising Inuyasha with her reply.  “Actually, I may be able to do that.”

“W-what?”

“I am friend to many youkai.  Most come to me when they are sick, or in need of skill in the magic arts.  I will ask anyone who comes to visit me if they have information concerning Naraku.”

“T-thank you,” Inuyasha stuttered.  Shinobu produced a small, black container from her robe and used it to gather a sample of Naraku’s miasma.  

“Well, I shall now take my leave.  Hopefully you will hear from me soon.  If you ever need anything, you know where to find me.  Come along, Kasumi.  Kasumi?”  

Inuyasha followed Shinobu’s eyes to find her daughter gazing longingly at the nearby village.  

“Actually, Okaa-san…I was hoping to stay for a little while.  I have never been in a place where humans and youkai co-exist.”  

Shinobu looked like she wanted to refuse, but like any good mother she considered the needs of her child before her own.  The company of others would be good for her.  

“Is it true, Inuyasha?” she asked.  “Do humans and youkai co-exist here?”  

He shrugged.  “More or less.  They seem to like the runt well enough.  Kasumi won’t have any problems.”  Hell, she may even draw some interest from the young single men.  He was glad he kept that thought to himself, however, what with Shinobu gazing at him with that falsely pleasant smile.   

“Oh, I feel so much better now that you’ve guaranteed my daughter’s happiness and safety.  I leave her under your care.”    

Again, Inuyasha wisely kept his mouth shut.  He hadn’t agreed to that, but he knew an ultimatum when he heard one.  And he really didn’t want to find out what Shinobu would do if any harm came to her only daughter.  

Sango strolled aimlessly in the shade of the trees, lost in thought.  She and Miroku had returned to Kaede’s village a couple days ago only to hear the bad news.  There was still hope that they would be reunited with Kagome, but it now appeared they would have to defeat Naraku first.  Not an encouraging prospect, considering they hadn’t been able to slay him with Kagome’s aid.  But she had faith that they would find a way.  

The sound of girlish laughter drew Sango’s attention to the nearby village, and she smiled at the sight that greeted her.  Kasumi was chatting amicably with a group of village women, appearing as though she had lived here her entire life.  She was even cradling a newborn infant in her arms, giving the young mother a much-needed break.   I don’t know how she made such a good impression, but I’m happy for her.  Yes, it was nice to see Kasumi enjoying life; from what Inuyasha had said, her past was even more tragic than Sango’s own.  But aside from occasionally wondering how her brother was doing, the taijiya hadn’t spent much time pondering the past lately.  Instead, her attention had been focused on the future, and how a certain amorous houshi fit into it.  One part of her told her that the new Miroku was here to stay, and that his days of flirting with other women were over.  Another part of her said she was a fool, and this part had many memories to support its opinion.  Worst of all were the sour emotions these memories conjured up.  The mental battle had been raging inside Sango’s mind for days, and she honestly had no idea how to feel.  In the end, she supposed it was out of her hands—everything came down to Miroku.  

“Houshi-sama, please do me next!”  

The feminine voice had Sango’s head snapping around toward its source, and she quickly ducked behind a nearby hut.  There was Miroku, standing with his back to her among a few young village women, giving palm readings.  Sango felt her heart lodge in her throat; she remembered all too well the particular question the monk usually asked when performing this type of service.  But she was drawn in like a moth to a flame; she simply could not run away until she had heard the words from his lips, not after the closeness they had shared.  And so she waited with bated breath.  

“Ahh…I see,” the monk announced as he studied the girl’s palm.  “You will marry a good man, and will be blessed with two…three, or perhaps even more healthy children.”  

Sango’s breath hitched as she awaited the dreaded query, the verbal knife that would split her nervous heart in twain.  To her utter amazement, it never came.  Instead, the monk merely released the young woman’s hand and inquired who was next.  He did another two or three readings, never once even insinuating any sort of lecherous intent.  Sango watched him the entire time, leaning on a conveniently-place fencepost, utterly dumbfounded.  Finally the last maiden had satisfied her curiosity, and Miroku stretched languidly before turning to begin the trek back to Kaede’s hut.  He froze when he spied Sango, his eyes revealing that he had been genuinely unaware of her presence.  

“Sango!  H-how long have you been there?” he asked nervously.  

The slayer didn’t respond with words, but her small smile let him know that she wasn’t angry with him.  His relief spawned courage, and he ambled up to her, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.  

“My lady, would you permit me to read your palm?”  

Sango hesitated for a moment; never in a million years would she have assented to that request even just a couple weeks ago.  But things had certainly changed, she hoped for the better.  She presented the requested appendage for inspection.  

“Hm, this is a very good palm,” he said, stroking it lightly, causing Sango to flush lightly as goose bumps formed along her arm.  “You have been a warrior your entire life, but soon you will become a mother as well.  Many children will brighten your days.  Tell me, my lady, would you consider bearing my children?”

There was that line she had been dreading, but it obviously didn’t bother her now.  

“Perhaps,” she replied shyly, calling upon some of her warrior’s composure to play this cool.  A task made more difficult by his continued loving caresses upon her palm.  

“Perhaps?” the monk repeated playfully.  “I do believe you already agreed to that proposition.”  

The taijiya frowned as if deep in thought.  “Did I?  I can’t seem to recall…”  

Sango tried to keep a straight face, she really did.  But the utterly horrified look on Miroku’s face was too much, and soon she gave up.  Miroku chuckled along with her, more in relief than anything else, then suddenly became serious.  

“Sango, I’ve been meaning to ask you something…I was going to wait until after we defeated Naraku, but in light of recent events, I don’t think I can wait any longer.”  

Sango’s eyes widened in alarm.  She hoped she was misreading him.  He wasn’t about to ask her that, was he?  

“Sango,” he said, staring into her eyes.  “I know I asked you to live with me after Naraku’s demise.  I never told you what living together meant to me.  At the time, I probably wasn’t entirely sure what I wanted.  But I do now.  When my curse is removed, will you become my wife?”  

Sango swore inwardly; that was precisely the question she had feared.  It wasn’t because she didn’t want to marry Miroku; nothing could be further from the truth.  She had dreamed of this moment many times, and she would always say ‘yes!’ and leap into his arms.  But this was no dream.  This was reality, and she had no answer to give.  Her great inner battle had not been decided yet; she had seen Miroku be unfaithful too many times in the past for her to let go of her reservations so easily.  

“Sango?” the monk inquired, his tone practically begging for an answer.  

“I don’t know,” she whispered quietly, flinching at the look of despair that flashed across his visage.  

“I-I see,” he replied, turning his face away as he undoubtedly came to the wrong conclusion.

“No!” Sango cried, gripping his hands and holding them against her chest, forcing him to look at her.  “H-houshi-sama …I just need time,” she pleaded, eyes imploring him to understand.  To her unending relief some of the brightness returned to the monk’s eyes, and he actually managed to force a grin.  

“Very well, my dear Sango.  When you are ready, I shall ask again.”  

With that, he kissed her on the cheek and strode past her toward Kaede’s hut.  After a moment, Sango released the breath she had been holding, and felt her anger mount.  Anger at Miroku for putting her in this position with his past indiscretions, and anger at herself for not being able to look past them.  Would this rejection cause him to revert back to old ways?  Would her fear of him womanizing only turn out to be some sort of sick self-fulfilling prophecy?  She needed some physical exertion to take her mind off this mess.  For the next few hours she trained relentlessly with hiraikotsu and her katana.  She knew she went overboard, especially at the very end, but the pain and soreness of her muscles were refreshing compared to her aching heart.  

Afterwards, as she sat against a tree with her knees pulled up to her chest, Inuyasha ambled up to her.  

“Keh, heard you shouting and thought there might have been a youkai.  You pissed or something?”  

Sango glanced at him, taking in his nonchalant posture.  Yet she could tell he genuinely cared, and she remembered his words from the beginning of their journey to Shinobu’s mountain.  This whole experience had changed Inuyasha as well, definitely for the better.  Probably for the first time, she felt comfortable opening up to him.  Perhaps it would be nice to share her grief.  

“Houshi-sama asked me to marry him today.”  

Inuyasha did not seem nearly as surprised as she expected.  “And?”  

“And I said I would think about it.”  

“Keh.  No wonder he was all mopey.”  

Sango grimaced at that, but remained silent.  It was to be expected, she supposed.  She thought she had convinced him that she truly only needed some time, but she couldn’t blame him for being depressed.  

“So why’d you say no?”  

“I didn’t say no!” she told him firmly, some of her self-loathing leaking into her tone.  But Inuyasha was unfazed.  

“Keh!  You think a simpleton like him can handle a complicated answer like that?  It’s a yes or no question, and trust me, he heard no.”  

While Sango found it absolutely mindboggling that Inuyasha could call anyone else a simpleton, she did wonder if his point was correct.  But Inuyasha didn’t allow her to lapse too deeply into thought.  

“So why’d you say no?” he repeated.  

“I didn’t—ugh, never mind!” she growled, more than a little annoyed with the persistent hanyou.  At this moment she preferred the surly, unsociable Inuyasha to this supportive, ‘good friend’ version.  But despite her foul mood, the words came unbidden to her lips.  

“Houshi-sama has been acting different lately.  He—”

“What, did he lose feeling in his right hand or something?  Has he finally stopped groping or propositioning every female in sight?”  

“Actually yes,” she told him with a real feeling of warmth.  It took her a moment to identify the emotion as pride.  She was proud of Miroku for changing his behavior, even for a short time.  And she was extremely gratified that he had done so for her.  

“So what’s holding you back?”  

Inuyasha had posed the obvious question, one she hesitated to answer.  She was afraid of what the hanyou would say.  If he told her that Miroku’s good behavior was only temporary, then she would be crushed.  But she wanted the truth, and she knew Inuyasha would give it to her.  Even if the truth was something she didn’t want to hear.  

“I-I don’t know if he’s really changed or not…”

Inuyasha pondered that a moment.  “Well, what do you think?” he asked her seriously.  

“What?” she replied, utterly shocked by his response.  Of all the answers he could have given, she had never expected him to simply turn her question back on her.  But evidently he had a good reason.  

“It does no good asking me, Sango.  Ask yourself.  Do you think he’s really changed?  You’re the only one who would know.  Once you figure out what you believe…well, you’ll know what answer to give.”  

It was almost ironic, really.  Inuyasha’s chosen method of helping her was to ask her the same question she had been trying to avoid all this time.  How did she feel?  What did she believe?  And as she finally took some time to search her deepest feelings, she found that the answer was obvious.  Yes, she was petrified of the consequences of being wrong.  But life was about taking risks, and if she never took that risk she would regret if for the rest of her days.  She knew now that her only chance at happiness was to place her faith in the man she loved.  And if her gut instincts were right, it would be the best decision she would ever make.  

“Thank you, Inuyasha,” she said sincerely, rising to her feet.  Then she set off purposefully back toward the village.  

The hanyou watched her go with a grin.  What did he believe?  He believed that everything would turn out all right with those two.  And as for Kagome’s safe return?  Well, anything was possible.  

Sango found Miroku inside Kaede’s hut, sitting against the wall, apparently asleep.  But his eyes flashed open when he sensed her, and for a brief moment they reflected deep anxiety before his mask slipped back into place.  

“Good evening, Sango.  There’s some stew over by the fire if you’re hungry.”

“Thank you, but I’m not hungry,” she replied courteously.  An uncomfortable silence settled over the pair as neither knew what to say next.  At least it seemed uncomfortable to Sango, whose nervousness was building by the second.  

“Houshi-sama?  Can I talk to you?”

At his brief nod, she stood and led him out of the hut.  His footsteps on the grass behind her echoed loudly in her ears, and she could feel his eyes on her.  His confusion was almost palpable, but when she spun suddenly and met his gaze, the hope and love she saw reflected there gave her all the courage she needed.  

“Houshi-sama, I did some thinking, and…”  The world seemed to still in the seemingly interminable silence, neither person daring to breath at this point.  “A-ask me again.”  

It took Miroku a moment to catch on to the meaning behind her words, but when he did a huge grin plastered itself across his face.  Gripping her hands in his own, he said the words Sango had waited so long to hear…again.

“Sango, will you be my wife?”

“Yes!”  

This time, Sango’s dreams became reality as she leapt into his arms, enfolding him in a bone-crushing embrace.  They both drew back at the same time, and stared into each other’s eyes, four orbs shining with raw emotion.  Then Miroku lowered his lips to hers, drawing her into a chaste kiss.  Growing bolder with their new promise to each other, he slipped his tongue forward, beckoning her lips to allow him entrance.  She acquiesced, shyly entangling her own moist appendage with his.  Distantly she noticed the ground being placed gently at her back, but this information could not force its way into her muddled mind.  Nor was she fazed by the hand at her hip, the one that slowly worked its way around to gently cup her backside.  She did, however, jerk back in alarm as she felt something hard press against her outer thigh.  Miroku broke the kiss and withdrew, breathing heavily.  

Sango took several deep breaths of her own as she fought to regain her composure.  She may be almost completely inexperienced with sex, but she knew what that was.  Miroku was staring at her warily as if expecting her to be angry, but she was not upset at all.  Logically, given what they had been doing—something in which she was an active participant—she could not blame him for becoming aroused.  She herself wasn’t breathing heavily solely because of lack of air.  Emotionally, she was on a whole new high.  For the first time, being groped by Miroku hadn’t made her feel dirty.  To the contrary, his caresses had felt so right that she had nearly lost herself in them.  She was glad they had stopped before going any further, if only because they didn’t need any added complications now.  Miroku seemed to understand that, though he was being a little foolish concerning his physical state.  

“I, uh, I’m sorry, Sango.  I—”

“Don’t be,” she told him.  “I’m not mad.”  

“Thank Kami,” the monk replied as he flopped back onto the grass.  Unfortunately, it seemed he had temporarily forgotten about his problem, which was currently pitching a noticeable tent in his robes.  Sango gazed pointedly in the other direction, posing her next question before she really thought about it.    

“Does it hurt?” she inquired, blushing crimson as soon as the words had passed her lips.  She hoped he would not say something perverted, like ‘yes, but you can make it feel better.’  She didn’t necessarily buy everything her friend Kagome said about ‘atmosphere,’ but that would completely ruin whatever atmosphere there was.  

But Miroku only chuckled lightly.  “No, my dear Sango, I can assure you it’s not pain I’m feeling right now.”  

The slayer ducked her head, flushing even deeper.  His response was still perverted, but in a way that was entirely Miroku.  And the ‘atmosphere’ was still firmly intact, despite her embarrassment.  When Miroku gently grabbed her arm and pulled her to lay beside him on the grass, she did not resist.  Pillowing her head on his shoulder, she relaxed completely against him.  No more words were spoken, as the pair watched the gorgeous sunset together.  Tomorrow was a new day.