InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Seven Feudal Fairy Tales ❯ The Wandering Monk ( Chapter 45 )

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

 

 

Chapter Forty-Five: The Wandering Monk

 

 

Kagome sighed her boredom from beneath the speckled shade of the sparsely leafed tree. With her chin resting casually on her palm, she sat patiently on one of the few rocks settled out of reach of the unrelenting heat and brilliance of the summer sun. Rough and uneven to her backside, she shifted uncomfortably on its hard surface, lamenting her light pants and the comfort of the soft dirt at her feet that the unsoiled fabric denied her. Now reflecting silently on the thin layer of loose earth lying before her sight, she felt her tedium break.

 

With its welcomed end, the school girl reached down for a branching stick that loitered at her heel and picked it clean of its dried and crinkled leaves. She then held it tentatively over the smooth, earthen canvas while she thought on what to draw. No great designs came to mind so she set the pointed stick to carve shallow grooves in the fine dust, contented to create random lines and doodles. Once filled, she cleansed the dirt of her art and rough talent with a careful sweep or two of her sandal. The pictures disappeared and the tool of her diversion easily moved to craft something new.

 

At first Kagome drew what she saw; the gentle bends of the waving grass buffeted by the cool breeze and the jagged angles of the occasional, wind-twisted tree that rose above the amber blades. Catching her eye next were the soft, feathered curves of the napping pheasant and then the lanky lines of the sprawled monkey that leaned against its friend. Finally, only one subject had yet to be illustrated and one that seemed to encompass every single bend, angle, curve and line she had already drawn. However, the tai youkai's dour expression while he leaned against the tree paused her hand. Considering that his unwavering scowl was not intended for her, but for the snoozing animals nestled contentedly at his boots, she found that she was not eager to attract the focus of his current displeasure.

 

The animals' fascination with the youkai lord had been one of wonderment on her part. Soon after she had soothed Fe-San, the two companions discovered the lethargic inu demon resting beside the tree and their unrelenting fondness for him since had been nothing short of comical, if not occasionally terrifying. Dwelling on their scorned affection, the school girl's next idea emerged in her mind and a devious smile grew on her lips as she set to work on her subsequent piece of art.

 

“Is that us and Do-Gu?” Fe-San chirped excitedly as it peered around her leg, startling Kagome from her self-indulging amusement.

 

“No, no,” she denied abruptly while hastily brushing away the crude drawing of a benignly dozing Sesshoumaru littered with the pleasant company of the happily sleeping bird and primate.

 

“Why did you erase it? It was cute,” the pheasant complained petulantly, peering up from beneath the low brim of its hat at the flushed cheeks of its leader. Met with her none to subtle hand gestures suggesting silence, the oblivious fowl persisted in its demands. “Draw it again.”

 

“All right, I will. I'll draw it later,” the school girl acquiesced with a hushed voice and an uneasy laugh as she felt the familiar golden glare of the demon boring into the back of her head. Satisfied with the answer she gave, the bird's squawks of protest quelled for a moment, but only a moment.

 

“When later?”

 

“Fe-San, can I ask you something?” Kagome quickly interjected, interrupting the chatty animal when she realized only a change in subject would do as a remedy.

 

“Oh,” it clucked, slightly perplexed. “What would you like to know, Momotaro-sama?”

 

“Well,” she thought aloud, her finger steadily tapping her lip as a bevy of questions brimmed, “I'd like to know who this monk is. Where did he come from? Is he a prisoner or an element of magic? What does he look like? Does he really know everything about the scroll?”

 

“Uh…”

 

“I'm sorry. How about just one then,” she giggled at its beleaguered expression, slipping her hand down to soothingly scratch it about its neck and shaded head. “Do you know when he'll get here?”

 

“Uh…”

 

“You don't know when he'll get here?”

 

“Soon?”

 

“Never mind,” the school girl yielded with a long sigh, reluctantly resigning her curiosity to the mystery. To her belated satisfaction though, it was a mystery that would not leave her waiting much longer.

 

Fresh from its success in touching Sesshoumaru's pelt, the recently wakened Mon-Ki sat safely a few tree roots away, crouched in thought as it pondered what to do next in its resolute quest to lovingly groom the taciturn demon. With a warning bark escaping its lips as it perked up to stand on its long, gangly legs hidden within red, billowing pants, the primate's amber stare fell to the road already traveled. The youkai lord's attention swiftly followed suit as he too heard the strange noise. Stark against the soft rustle of grass rippled by the breeze, the rhythmic grind and squeak slowly ascended in the air, finding Kagome's ears at last.

 

“Is that him?” she asked the jittery bird darting away from her side, twittering excitedly while it ran with its long plumes trailing behind it.

 

“He's here! He's here!” the monkey announced elatedly as it too bound towards the worn path, leaping and twisting gleefully as it went. The two animals settled patiently in the center of the trail, shivering in their enthusiasm and whispering it quietly to each other.

 

Cresting the hill like the slow ascent of the sun in the sky, the broad, woven cone of a hat rose above the sloping road followed by the small, hunched shoulders of a slender figure. Drawn steadily by a stout, bay pony, the man sat perched upon the crumbling bench of his rickety wagon. Plastered in red paint to conceal the erosion that time had exacted upon it, the cart rattled shakily over the dirt trail, hauling a brilliant rainbow of fresh fruit in its hold.

 

“I know him,” the school girl murmured under her breath with a furrowed brow as the wagon slowed to a stop before the giddy fanfare of squeals and twitters. The man pushed back the brim of his hat, revealing his ancient and wrinkled face. Sunken eyes and gaunt cheeks defining him, the old monk smiled his toothless grin at the animated antics of the animals below him and the flurry of elated commotion they exuded. With one climbing the cart with ease as the other took to climbing the air with an equal lack of effort, the monkey and pheasant joined the man upon his seat. “I know I've seen him before.”

 

Kagome stepped out into the glare of the sunlight from the cool shade of the tree, approaching the touching reunion with a stilted stride as she poured over her memories, searching for this diminutive man among their many pages. The monk looked down at her from astride his wagon, smiling gently at her twisted expression while she thought.

 

“Are you perplexed by presence?” he spoke up in a friendly, raspy voice abraded by age and softened by time.

 

“You seem familiar. Have we met before?”

 

“We have, but for only brief, forgettable moments and sadly, several tales ago.”

 

“I'm sorry that I don't remember, but do you think you could tell me when?”

 

“I will give you a hint. We met when you were but a tiny warrior searching for a ride and when you were a very lovely old woman searching for a direction,” he replied cryptically, his easy smile reflecting his unwavering patience as her puzzlement doubled.

 

“I just don't--”

 

“Hmm, then I suppose it is rude of me not to ask if you ever found the tall, white-haired man you were looking for so many stories ago? I imagined that it was Shiro-sama or one of his kin that you sought, so I hope my directions were enough.”

 

“Wait… You?! You're elderly man from the entrance of the village, aren't you?” the school girl finally guessed, her voice incredulous as she suddenly remembered the nearly unmemorable moment from so early in the third tale. Taken by her revelation, he chuckled at her disjointed words until his humor became hacking coughs. She closed the distance between them in her worry, but a casual wave of his gnarled hand kept her from climbing up to his place to act on her concern. Soon his discomfort passed and the glimmer of his empty eyes returned.

 

“Is that all you can recall?”

 

“Issunboshi,” the tai youkai answered coolly from his shadowed spot, subtly nodding to the mountains of produce piled behind the monk, “Your cart is what delivered us to the steps of the palace.”

 

“Indeed,” the old man replied, his gaze meeting the tired sight of the demon still hidden under the boughs of the crooked tree. “Your memories serve you better, so it would seem.”

 

“That's Do-Gu,” Mon-Ki explained quietly, standing tall to reach the monk's ear as it regaled him in an excited whisper. “He's finally arrived.”

 

“Is that so? With a dog, a monkey, a pheasant and a boy general to lead them, I believe this war party is complete. All that is left is the war.”

 

“I guess,” Kagome agreed in near silence, her thoughts embroiled with the daunting battle ahead and more pointedly with the lingering, hidden wounds that weighted the steps of the youkai warrior at her back. In her experience, ogres had never been weak enemies and a fortress filled with their kind was nearly overwhelming. What would she do if Sesshoumaru could not fight? Could she win without him?

 

“Well, get on.”

 

“What?”

 

“I'm heading your way, Momotaro-sama and it would be ill of me to leave such gallant heroes to travel by foot and claw on this road as harsh as the sun it is under.”

 

“You'll give us a ride?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“I'm grateful,” she thanked him before casting an unseeing glance at the armor-clad silhouette conspicuously unmoved by the old man's offer. “But, I'm not sure if we all want to.”

 

“I see,” he replied with a casual nod and raised his attention to the distant and detached tai youkai. Catching the demon's golden stare again with his brown one, the monk eyed him carefully. Sesshoumaru met the unbidden examination with a furrowed brow which only deepened when a strange smirk grew on the old man's thin lips.

 

“I could try and talk to him. Maybe if I--”

 

“There is no need,” he interrupted her, looking upon the school girl kindly as he spoke. “His pride is not greater than his prudence. He will join us, because illness makes paupers of us all and even great demon lords are no different.” He looked on the inu youkai one final time. “There is room for you to rest among the fruit as we travel, my lord. And if that is not enough to tempt you then I will also tell you that you shall lose no respect for it as you are not the first of your clan to be in such a way and neither shall you be the last.”

 

“I'm not sure if that was a good idea,” the school girl cautioned in a hushed voice, grimacing at the bluntness of his words.

 

“There is no need for worry.” No sooner had he spoken that she heard the soft rustle of silk and the slow, shuffled gait of the demon as he ambled by. Snorting his last vestige of defiance away as a reminder that his compliance was merely an illusion, Sesshoumaru approached the broad panels of the cart and touched them lightly with his hand, carefully testing their strength with a telling shake. Satisfied, he gripped one firmly, using it to steady himself while he swung up and over the side of the wagon to land lightly within the fruit-full bed. Leveling the produce landscape of a few of its mountains and lining what remained with his pelt, the tai youkai finally settled down to relax and with it the much needed rest it afforded him. Another smirk grew on the old man's lips at the sight veiled to him by magic and then he found Kagome again. “Are you ready, Momotaro-sama?”

 

“Oh, yeah,” she murmured softly, glancing hesitantly at the rear of the cart nearly brimming with fur, silk and fruit. A frown pursed her lips. There seemed to be less room than within the peach pit and it was doubtlessly less hospitable for other more mysterious reasons.

 

“You can ride with me,” the monk added gently to reassure her of her obvious awkwardness. “Mind the steps.”

 

“Thank you,” she smiled and then quickly hoisted herself up the splintered and loose boards that served as a ladder for the front of the wagon. Anxiously, she found her place on the narrow seat, taking as little room from the old man as she could. Her earnestness tickled him and after chuckling away his pleasure, the monk touched his patient horse with the whip and yipped a command.

 

With a rough and rumbling start, the produce cart bumped down the uneven road. However, it soon found the soft sand of the dual grooves that marked the rutted way, smoothing the ride to an easy, swaying comfort. Kagome spied back at the usually dangerous cargo to find it already slumbering. Exhausted from the trek, sleep had overcome the demon lord swiftly and so had the animal comrades he had kept at bay earlier. Nestled within swirls of crimson and white silk, Mon-Ki and Fe-San had besieged him to lay about his clothing in lounging contentment. The school girl snickered at the sweet scene before her, never quite believing what her innocent doodle in the dust had foretold.

 

“You seem to be in better spirits,” the old man remarked, casting a pleasant look in her direction. “Momotaro is not meant to be timid.”

 

“Timid?” she nearly laughed at his term, the attribute sounding so foreign to her ears. “I don't think anyone has ever accused me of being that.”

 

“If you are not timid, then what are you?”

 

“To be honest, I don't know what I feel right now. I've never felt this way before. It's so confusing. Maybe I'm just unsure and maybe I'm just a little scared for him. And for myself.”

 

“You need not worry for him or for yourself. The magic of the scroll will not harm you, be it ogre or otherwise.”

 

“I suppose you're right,” Kagome agreed, flashing a weak smile at his well-meaning comfort. “After all, you're an illusion from the scroll, so you would know best.” With her remark, a sudden and hoarse laugh erupted from the hunched monk, eliciting her wide-eyed concern that would do nothing to quell it.

 

“I am no illusion, Momotaro-sama,” he wheezed between dying chuckles. “I am not made of magic.”

 

“So, you're a prisoner of Susanou's?”

 

“In a way, I suppose, but not how you suspect.”

 

“Then who are you?”

 

“I am the monk who found the scroll hundreds of years ago and who has since paid the price for the betrayal and lust of my comrade at the hands of Oto-hime.”

 

“Oto-hime?”

 

“You do not know of her?”

 

“No…”

 

“Interesting. Then tell me, how much has Do-Gu told you of the Box of Time and of the shimmering palace deep beneath the ocean waves?”