InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Seven Feudal Fairy Tales ❯ Time ( Chapter 36 )

Disclaimer: These characters belong to Rumiko Takahashi and other associated companies.

 

 

Chapter Thirty-Six: Time

 

 

“Why do I have to do this?” the school girl grumbled loudly under and in between her steady, labored breaths. The light sheen of sweat glistened on her forehead and on her ruddy cheeks as her complaint promptly tapered into a frustrated growl.

 

“Because, Kagome-sama,” a mirthful, masculine voice reminded her gently, “You should know how.”

 

“Just let me go to my bag and I'll show you how,” she countered quickly with a fleeting smile at her own cunning as she began to rise off her dust caked knees.

 

“Nah, ah, ah,” the voice piped in as a young man in navy and purple robes settled down into a crouch next to her, easily blocking her view of and route to her weathered and torn salvation, the faded yellow backpack across the freshly made camp. “You will have to do better than that if you plan to trick me. And look, now you have lost your rhythm. Tsk, tsk, my lady.”

 

“Arrgh, Miroku,” she groaned as she slumped back down in the fine impression her kneeling legs had left in the soft dirt. Acquiescing as far as she intended to and in one final act of defiance, Kagome dropped the long, roughly sharpened stick she had been fervently gripping before. “I have matches in my bag.”

 

“That is not the point.”

 

“It is the point,” she reasoned angrily before gesturing at him and in the direction of her worn pack. “I can do this in two seconds if you just let me go over there.”

 

“And what will you learn if you do?”

 

“That the future is wonderful.”

 

“The future is convenient, not wonderful,” he remarked knowingly, picking up the stick with his bead entangled hand, the carved tip black and charred. “And missing a few, important lessons.”

 

“That's because we don't need to learn them,” the school girl argued adamantly as her sepia stare burrowed into the soft, violet eyes of the monk. “We have matches, lighters and electricity. The whole fire situation is thoroughly taken care of.”

 

“But, it isn't here, Kagome-chan,” a sweet, feminine voice spoke up as a young, beautiful woman in a modest dress stepped next to Miroku, taking care to stand on the side of his occupied hand. Perched quietly on her shoulder sat a small, adorable, cat demon with large, crimson eyes and smooth, ivory fur. “What will you do if you don't have your matches, your lighters or even this electricity you speak of?”

 

“I always have them, because I always have my bag,” Kagome answered stubbornly, crossing her arms against her chest and ignoring the smears her soot stained fingers were leaving on her white blouse. Her look left the monk and found the taijiya. “It hasn't been a problem so far. If I'm not worried about it, then you shouldn't worry about it.”

 

“Kagome-chan-”

 

“Let' er do what she wants,” the gruff voice of the hanyou interrupted from above. He lay sprawled comfortably upon a broad limb, leisurely watching the growing spectacle with his wild, golden eyes. With the joining scowls of Miroku and Sango lifting to face him, the half-demon propped his head up into a clawed hand and remained unfazed in his detachment despite their debilitating glares.

 

“Thank you, Inuyasha,” the school girl thanked him with a pleased smile as she shifted to stand up. “At least you understand since you've actually been to the future.”

 

“Yeah, it don't hurt me if you're the only one `round who can't make fire. Hell, even Shippou and Kirara can make it. Not like we need you to do it if we're in a bind.”

 

“What?!”

 

“Just bein' honest,” he shrugged in his dusty and stained, fire-rat coat, rubbing his nose with the casual brush of a finger before casting about lazily. “Where's Shippou anyway? Le's just have him do it and call it done.”

 

“That's unfair,” Kagome yelled in frustration, the fury of her words directed unswervingly on the mop-headed hanyou overhead. “He doesn't even use the stick method! It's foxfire and Kirara uses her youkai powers as well. She's got flames that come out of her feet!”

 

“Pew,” the cat demon chirped proudly from her spot on Sango's shoulder.

 

“Feh, it's still natural,” Inuyasha followed with another impartial shrug. “If ya could make fire from your feet then this fight woulda ended a while ago and we'd be eatin' by now.”

 

“That's it! Give me the stick, Miroku!” the school girl demanded heatedly, plucking it from the monk's grip before he could answer. “And you,” she commanded sternly, her pointed stick and hot glare planted firmly on the half-demon. “We would not be eating right now, because you haven't caught us anything for dinner. Now go!”

 

“Feh!” he replied flippantly as he begrudgingly rose to his calloused feet. With his face twisted into a scowl, the hanyou growled as he muttered about demanding women. “D'ere better be a fire when I get back, woman.”

 

“Oh, believe me there will be,” she laughed haughtily as she put the point of the stick into the blackened groove of another piece of wood with a ready nest of dried grass beside it. “D'ere better be fish or a rabbit in your hand when you get back.”

 

“Feh!” he snorted again with growing defiance as he turned on his heel, careful to not let the now determined school girl see his sly smile. Then off the branch he sprang and into the slowly dimming sunset.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“C'mon, c'mon,” Kagome murmured softly in whisper as she rolled a smooth, gray stick rapidly between her open palms. Kneeling in the gritty sand, she sat hunched over a flat shard of torn driftwood. At a glance, the piece seemed too fragile for the furious drilling she exacted upon it. The poorly whittled point of her stick though did not fracture the wood as it ground, but instead gradually produced a growing pile of dark ash.

 

Her eyes never shifted from the cinders, watching intently for the thin wisps of smoke and the promise of an orange glow in the black powder. She bit her lip tenderly as the sting of impending blisters burned from her raw hands. The salty tang of sweat met her tongue when she tasted her lip, reminding her of how long she had been working and of her questionable wisdom in choosing to do this in the hard sunlight of the open beach. Undeterred by her doubts, she kept up her steady motion, settling into a rhythm as she bore.

 

“Ha,” she gasped lightly as the white tendrils of smoke poured faintly from the pile. She gulped down, spying fervently from above as her sight found what she had scarcely allowed herself to believe. Sitting proudly in its nest of ash was the smoldering spark of a coal.

 

Taming her excitement, she carefully set her stick down on the deep sand as she reached for a few shreds of coconut fiber. She held the knotted mass of tinder cautiously next to the ember as she slowly blew on it with the breath she had been holding in her nervousness.

 

The smoke billowed with renewed life as the heat of the coal found the delicate fuel she had nestled beside it. The flicker of flame igniting, she swiftly fed it more of the dry fibers. The fire grew voraciously, hungrily consuming the delectable driftwood as it rose. With excited squeals out of success and fear as the flames nearly licked her fingers, Kagome picked up the shrinking torch she had caught on fire and tossed it into the nearby pit she had dug earlier. Within the pyramid of logs she had crafted, it landed into more broken driftwood which it promptly began to devour.

 

“Yes!” she proclaimed gleefully at her success, finally allowing herself the indulgence of realizing her victory. Around the pit she skipped playfully as the blaze rose. “Finally, I did it! I did it, Miroku! I did it, Sango!” she sang into the brilliantly azure sky before adding in a derisive tone to her song, “I did it, Inuyasha, so you can bring me my dinner!”

 

The emptiness of the rolling thunder as waves crashed on the shore and the rustling of the breeze through the palm fronds answered her cries, acknowledging her achievement with their indifference. Her elated whoops slowly quieted down and her steps shortly came to a stop as she stared at her creation in her gradual silence.

 

“I did it, everyone. I did it.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Under an ever-reaching canopy of palm treetops, the tropical vegetation of the jungle flourished in the dappled shadows. Varying from wide to narrow and large to small, their countless leaves and branches enveloped the forest floor with their lush green hues. The vivid blossoms of the exotic flowers splashed orange, purple and yellow with a sparing touch so that the eye never tired of their presence.

 

Pooled, rain water pouring from their slightly, cupped surfaces, several broad leaves parted in the maze of entangled flora. Stepping through the narrow, hidden pathway, the richly tanned figure of a young woman appeared. Stripped to her waist, she moved cautiously down the trail. With her bare feet making not a sound as she treaded over the root strewn way, she warily scanned the jungle around her. Slung over shoulder was a rough quiver woven from pliable strips of thin bark from the rare sapling that she had found. Protruding from the top of the long pocket at her back were the slender, shaved shafts of arrows, fletched with the white feathers from the gulls that foraged away at the distant beach.

 

Snuffling greedily beyond her sight, but not beyond her ears, the woman could hear the contented grunting of her quarry. She gripped the supple wood of her carved bow harder in anticipation as she quietly breached the last branches.

 

She was not disappointed as she spied the dark, bent silhouettes of boar eagerly devouring the overly ripened mangoes that had dropped from the lofty boughs of the tree above. The sticky juice coated their snouts and sharp tusks as they pried the rotting, orange flesh from the woody pits. Occupied with their own gluttony, the pigs took no notice of the preying human a few short paces away.

 

Kagome held her breath anxiously, every doubting thought crippling her confidence as her eyes washed over the dangerous points anchored on either side of each animal's mouth. Her brow furrowing, she pouted in her indecision. The endless cycle of the repeating day brought her fortune more often than misery. A few weeks ago as she ventured into the thicker tangle of the jungle she rarely explored, she had heard the pleasured snorts from the beasts as they gorged themselves. The savory flavor of pork lured her back against her better judgment with the sweet and worn-out taste of crab to aid it. Now she had returned at the same time of day to find the delectable meat exactly where it should be, foraging beneath bristled, brown fur and a volatile temper.

 

The young woman shifted slightly in her ready stance, the prickle of the nerves in her feet voicing their complaint as she remained nearly motionless. In her mind, the same stream of words that fueled her confidence trickled through, her mantra in the unforgiving wilderness she was abandoned in. A man had once told her it in a moment of battle. She could scarcely remember his name after the passing of so many suns since he washed away with the tide. His face, like most others were blurred in her memory, but she did remember the silver of his hair and the gold of his eyes, so much like another who she still anchored close to her heart.

 

`Nock your arrow and draw your bow,' she mouthed wordlessly, bolstering her resolve as she commanded herself. Slowly and smoothly, she reached for the tickle of feather and gently grasped an arrow from her quiver. She set the thin missile against the taut twine she had woven from the same elastic bark she used for her quiver. Then she drew it, the quiet murmur of the bending wood and tightening string catching no notice.

 

`See your target and only your target until there is nothing else,' Kagome thought next as her predatory stare singled out the largest pig, the one that would prove the most troublesome should she have chosen one of the smaller ones to fell. It continued to indulge its insatiable appetite, unmindful of the stalking hunter in the foliage across the small clearing. The tip of the held arrow settled on its ribs just behind the forelegs, cautiously avoiding the gut and the spoiling of the meat should it hit there.

 

`Imagine your arrow's path and its strike. Imagine your success,' the voice in her head declared, its rich baritone fading quickly to her feminine tone as it spoke. The conjured vision of the fragile missile leaving her fingers in its brief and violent journey into the boar's side filled her sepia eyes. She saw the pig fall, flailing fiercely in its final throes of life before stilling completely. She was ready.

 

`And in that moment release your fingers,' she finished voicelessly as the arrow flew from her hand, propelling through the humid air and into the unsuspecting animal, impaling it harshly through the lung. The young woman sighed raggedly in relief as her shot unerringly found its mark, unfortunately her fleeting smile was shorter lived than the still breathing and now enraged beast charging towards her.

 

“Shit,” she muttered in her hoarse voice, rough from disuse. Spinning on her heel, she raced down the trail with her blind feet finding the unseen way with ease. Around the vegetation she dodged agilely, her hurried steps finding the ground after every leap and dive as the boar uncaringly forged through the bushes in its rush to gore its assailant.

 

Ahead, the low branches of a tree caught Kagome's eye and a hasty plan formed in her mind. It was reckless and unwise in concept, but then again she really wanted roasted pork. Tossing her bow into the foliage as she passed, she leapt gracefully into the air. She grasped desperately onto the thick limb with one hand, using the momentum of her sprint to swing her body up. Her shoulder ached from the wrenching strain and she twisted to the side as she rose above the branch. Frantically she grabbed the limb with her free hand, determinedly straddling atop it with her prone body.

 

Not losing a moment, the young woman rose to a kneel, retrieving a black shard of obsidian from its sheath in her woven belt. Eagerly she awaited for her rapidly closing prey, the rustling of leaves and breaking of branches heralding its way.

 

Then a dark, shadowy blur breached the final border of bushes and Kagome leapt with the wrapped handle of her knife anchored firmly between her teeth. She landed hard on the large beast that was many times her weight. Blue sparks of the barrier ignited from her impact as she knocked the pig from its narrow feet and onto the side where the thin, feather-tipped shaft of the arrow protruded. Further into the boar it drove, piercing the heart with its filed point. In surprise, desperate, high-pitched squeals rung in the air as it kicked out violently with its cloven hooves, striking the young woman that fell beside it. The glow of the barrier saved her from broken bones and a crushed skull, but not from the shallow gashes and bruising the dying animal had wrought.

 

Exhausted and injured, Kagome rose to her feet and limped to the dished head of the beast, avoiding the still dangerous tusks waving threateningly. Crouching warily behind its neck, she took the volcanic glass blade from her mouth and made a deep cut across its throat. Blood gushed from the wound, eventually quieting its cries and stilling its thrashing. Eyes glossy and vacant with death, it lay limply in a growing pool of red.

 

The newly fledged huntress weakly hobbled to the refuge of the tree trunk where she had made her dive, slumping down at its base as she breathed heavily, her lungs still trying to catch up with her body. Unseeing as the creep of fatigue overtook her, Kagome's sight remained on her fallen prey. A weak smile graced her features as sleep finally settled and she drifted away into the nothingness of her empty dreams.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Floating listlessly on the tame currents, the dark and nearly water-logged wood of an expertly made raft bobbed weakly on the turquoise water. Surrounded by the smoothness of the ever-reaching sea and the distant, looming silhouette of the island, the vessel appeared like a black blemish on the pristine cove. Slender, smoothly hewn logs lay across the boat in regular rows, bound with lashings to thick lengths of tapering wood at each end. The sturdy support made from fallen tree trunks sunk slightly into the deep water it floated upon, but remained above the surface through the shallow waves. The well carved spades of the raft's oars hung securely on their hooks. Across the flat surface of its deck lay a neatly piled heap of fist-size, smooth stones.

 

Beige and black, a strange shape moved up from beneath the boat, its figure distorted by the continuous ripples that plagued the water's surface. With a deep, gasping breath and barely a splash as she gently broke the surface, the head of a woman with sepia eyes appeared. Grabbing the wooden handholds above her, she summoned her strength in the strong muscles of her arms and hoisted her nude body upon the deck of her watercraft. Rising from her belly to her knees after she climbed on, the woman slicked back her long bangs soaked with saltwater. Fine lines at the corners of her eyes and the scarce, silver hair in her waist-length locks were the only traitors hinting at her age. She swiftly rose to her feet with the sunlight glinting on her glistening, lean body.

 

The strap of a swollen satchel hung over her shoulder and between her full breasts. She reached for the tie of the bag that settled at her hip, loosening the bloated knot with a bone pick from her old, dependable belt that was securely strapped around her waist. The bag opened after a few deft pokes and pulls, revealing a treasure trove of shellfish inside. The woman crouched down and dumped the contents onto the deck, shaping it into a neat pile as they fell.

 

Finished, she leaned over to the mound of stones, carefully sorting through them and placing the ones of her liking into pouches on her belt. Then in her well accustomed ritual, she casually strolled around her small boat, touching every log, rope and oar with the light touch of her foot or hand. Satisfied that all would be well when she returned, her sight fell to the deep water. The woman teetered on the brim of the raft and then with practiced grace, she dove elegantly into the sea.

 

The cool, refreshing chill of the ocean tickled her warm skin and her long hair floated around her like a delicate halo. Taking a moment to find her bearings, she hung in the water like a marionette with her legs moving slowly in exaggerated kicks. She scanned the sandy seafloor below obscured in the haze of the sea. Slowly she sunk as she thought, the rocks in her belt weighting her down as she desired. When she decided to return for air, she would leave them behind, speeding her ascent to the sanctuary of the sky above.

 

With a sudden twist of her lithe body, she dove down to the rocky bottom, her sharp eyes slipping over the patches of rough stone and coral, searching for the rare shellfish that had escaped her keen attention in her previous descents. The gray oval of a lone abalone caught her sight and she swam towards it. Settled in front of it, the woman reached for another pocket in her belt, retrieving her favorite obsidian knife. She wedged the blade under the animal, prying it from its foundation with an exacting pressure. It broke free from its hold and she swiftly placed it in her bag.

 

She smiled happily at her find, turning away from the rocky shelf it had been nestled upon. As she twisted, her gaze fell to the dark teal abyss of the deepening ocean. Her vision lingered there and her pleasure faded. He was there, beyond the darkness. He said he would return and she said she would wait for him. He… He… Then she realized that it wasn't only his face now that failed her memory, but his name as well.

 

Unthinkingly as instantly dissolving tears escaped her burning sight, the woman with sepia eyes swam hard for the vast, empty ocean. She couldn't do it anymore. She couldn't wait for him. The muscles of her arms and legs complained bitterly as she strained to kick and paddle through the heavy currents. Her lungs begged for air, aching angrily in her chest as she gritted her teeth. Soon, water slipped into her nose and mouth as she gasped in the sea, her body unwilling to be denied air any longer even as she was surrounded only by the drowning liquid of the ocean.

 

`I will get there,' she thought desperately, her determination insurmountable as her lungs completely filled with water and her body slowed in obstinate resignation before the power of the sea. Drifting to a stop, she hung in the water motionless with the last glimmer of thought leaving her mind as she slipped away into unconsciousness. `I will get there.'

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The gentle lap of waves brushed against her cheek with the salty taste of the ocean leaking into her open mouth. Sand dusting her eyelashes, the sepia eyes of the washed up woman blinked open wearily. Her mind still in a haze, she feebly lifted her head, spying the familiar line of palm trees up the steep bank. Groggy and weak, she crawled up the beach, fumbling with her exhausted limbs as she went. Then she collapsed onto her face, the powdery grains sticking to her cheeks where fresh streams of tears slipped. Rough sobs escaped her lips as she pounded her fist futilely into the soft sand.

 

There she lay wracked in her grief and solitude until her tears dried up and her gruff voice finally quelled. The calming rush of the breaking waves and the comforting rustling of the palm fronds filled her ears, soothing her aching heart. Sniffling and trembling, she rose to her knees with sand caked to her face. She turned over onto her butt, her bloodshot gaze falling to amber sea as the red, setting sun merged with the flat horizon. Then she smiled softly. Resting neatly on the shore, whole and unscathed, sat her raft with the waiting pile of shellfish ready to fill her grumbling belly. `I could wait a little longer, I suppose.'

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

`Left, right, right, left,' an older woman with sepia eyes thought absently as she stood listlessly on a large stone overlooking a shallow stretch of shore. Held in a ready hand, the slender shaft of a spear rested against her lean shoulder. Its carved, volcanic glass tip followed the nimble turns of a pewter fish without fail as it swam before her. `Right, left, left.'

 

She admired the little, silvery animal that shared its existence with her. At first it was food. Hidden away in the now ancient memories of when she first began her life on the empty beach, it was the first fish she had caught. The first meat she had eaten. Then the next morning, it returned to its place along the shore unfazed by its death wrought the day before. Again she slew it and again it reappeared. Out of curiosity, she kept the remains she usually discarded to see if it would return. The shore remained empty with them in her company and it was from this little fish that she realized the recycling of the world. Her shelter, her raft, her implements and her food, all had to be touched everyday or else the next day they would return to the sources from which they came. It was an unusual day when she forgot to touch the roof of her house and she awoke the following morning to the green of the peeking treetops.

 

The woman shifted slightly in her casual stance as the wind caught her hair, blending the ebony locks with the silver streaks above her ears. Her body seemed timeless next to the fine creases and lines that framed her eyes and brow. To live well in the wilds of the island, her sinewy, chiseled figure could not afford the luxury of age.

 

`Right, left, left, left, right,' she anticipated unerringly as she and her spear continued to follow the small animal as it undulated and swam. A time came when she no longer cared to hunt it. There were crabs and other fish to be had. It was her emergency meal should she fail to gather enough to eat, at least that's what she convinced herself it was.

 

Then one day, she gave it a name. It wasn't witty or fitting, but it was unexpected. Why would she name a creature she planned on eating? Yet, it became Pisces-kun anyway. For many years, she visited it for a few hours and rattled on about her old life to stave off the loneliness her new one had become. The solitude had been so heavy in the beginning, weighting her spirit, but Pisces-kun was always there, swimming in its shallows.

 

The time passed and slowly her voice dried up with no reason to speak. She built a raft and explored the forest as she resigned herself to the island and forgot the real world beyond the illusion. She forgot about the scroll. She forgot about the Shikon no Tama. She forgot about her friends, all but the one who twisted happily in the water before her. Nothing else mattered.

 

`Left, right, left…left?' she thought quizzically as the tiny fish darted away unexpectedly, leaving her alone on her rock. Perplexed, her sight traveled up and into the amber orbs of a tall, silver-haired demon standing a pace away in knee-deep water.