InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Seven Feudal Fairy Tales ❯ The Moon Child ( Chapter 54 )

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

 

 

Chapter Fifty-Four: The Moon Child

 

 

A soft, cool light filtered through the opaque fog of the school girl's dreams, lifting her gently from a peaceful and unexpected sleep. Fluttering open, her sepia eyes peeked out at the curious radiance while dull pains along the length of her body further spurred her into consciousness. A vanishing spiral of stairs cascading into the darkness welcomed her perplexed sight and she looked around as she carefully moved to sit upon one of the many steps that were biting into her side. Following the coiling stairs up, her gaze rose to find them endlessly climbing along the walls of the cylindrical tower she awoke in.

 

The impenetrable darkness both above and below reminding her of its oddity, Kagome wondered of the gentle luminescence that seemed to be centered on her. No lamps or torches hung on the smooth, wooden walls and as her sight searched, she soon found her answer in the palms of her hands. In a pure hue of a nameless color, her hands glowed softly and she turned them back and forth as she stared on with a mesmerized fascination. Before long, the school girl tugged at the hems of her clothes and wherever her skin was revealed, she was greeted with the same radiance.

 

“I'm glowing everywhere,” she whispered in amazement while gawking at her freshly unsheathed and curling toes that appeared like little, wriggling lights. “Why am I glowing?” The last lines of the poem drifted through her thoughts while she pondered with words such as bamboo-cutter, princess and moon tarrying in her mind longer than others. “This is the fairytale of The Bamboo Cutter and the Moon Child. It has to be. And if that's so, who am I this time?”

 

Pulling on her travel-stained socks and sliding her feet into her worn sandals, Kagome stood up on a step with her steadying hand seeking the gradually curving wall. Pale tan with a hint of youthful green, the straight, variegated grains of the wood coursed vertically under the revealing light of her touch. Massive in size, but undeniable in nature, it could only be bamboo and if she was inside a shoot of it then that meant she could only have one role in this story. She was the moon child.

 

With one realization came another as she looked about nervously in the limited light bordered by reaching shadows. The strangeness of the new tale complicated by her slowly receding grogginess had mired her thoughts and only then had she noticed the absence of a very important demon.

 

“Sesshoumaru-sama!” the school girl called out, his name echoing with growing faintness in the chilly air. A myriad of reasons and questions rose as she began to climb the stairs in her worry. Had he woken before her and went exploring? Had he left all together? Was he even here to begin with? Never before had the scroll separated them in the beginning, but that didn't mean that it couldn't. Even with that aside, there was the exchange of important roles continuing between them. If she played the title character of Momotaro in the last fairytale and now the equally significant part of Kaguya-hime, the banished princess of the moon, who was Sesshoumaru meant to play? Could he be the bamboo-cutter?

 

Enthusiasm quickening her stride, Kagome scaled the elegantly carved steps with her own radiance guiding the way. Each shoe met the floor with a resounding clack as she ran, the swift volley of their echoing sounds eventually slowing as her rapid heartbeats grew in their place. Sweat beading on her forehead and her throat raw, she finally came to a begrudging stop while attempting to catch her breath. Still, determination remained hardened in the school girl's eyes with her unwavering gaze keeping the next steps of the seemingly eternal spire in focus as she rested for a moment.

 

Then stealing her much needed breath, a muffled, rustling noise whispered from beyond the curved planes of bamboo. Pressing her ear close as she sprawled herself against the wall, Kagome listened on silently as the swishing continued. Quiet at first, a melodious tune soon accompanied the mysterious rustle, growing clearer and louder with every sung lyric. Stopping abruptly in the middle of the chorus, the emptiness of stark silence was swift to take the up the song thereafter, but not without the muted crinkling of dried leaves to interrupt it.

 

Exacting a startled squeak from her lips, the stairs pitched beneath the school girl's feet as the bamboo shoot she was trapped within swayed to and fro. Crumpling down to her knees so that she could cling to the lip of the step ahead, she waited with wide eyes and eager hope for what she knew was coming next. Then with a loud crack, an enormous, nicked blade of black metal came eagerly slicing over her head, sending fine shavings of bamboo fluttering around her when it passed.

 

Spying up as the shuddering spire slowly stilled, Kagome was greeted by the speckled brilliance of the night sky eclipsed in places by clusters of delicate branches of bamboo. Black without the warmth of the sun, the thin limbs themselves were soon blocked by the giant silhouette of a man with a machete balanced lightly on his shoulder.

 

“Sesshoumaru-sama?” she asked hesitantly, biting at her lip as the figure leaned in to get a better look at her.

 

“Sesshoumaru?” an old, gruff voice remarked thoughtfully. “What an ominous and cruel name to give a person. I should hope such a frighteningly named man is not nearby.”

 

“I'm sorry about that. May I ask who you are?”

 

“I am but a humble bamboo-cutter, dear child. I was collecting bamboo from this forest to craft into furniture when I saw this strange shoot glowing brightly in the dim starlight. It is to my amazement that I should cut it and find such a precious and tiny girl within.”

 

“Oh,” the school girl murmured, the icy flow of evening air spurring her to rub her crossed arms with her hands as she tried to think of what she should do next.

 

“Are you cold? The night is chill this time of year.”

 

“I'm fine. There's just a little bit of a breeze.”

 

“Then allow me to take you home to my wife. She is quite dutiful and you may enjoy some hot tea to warm you up.”

 

“I am grateful, but my friend is still missing and he might not be able to find me if I leave.”

 

“Alas, it is your fate to accompany me, my dear child as it was my fate to find you here among a million stalks of bamboo. Please do not deny my role to aid you and yours to join me. If your friend is meant to find you, he shall.”

 

“All right,” Kagome acquiesced after a long, pensive moment, standing up carefully as the knobby and creased hand of the elderly man lowered down gently to the rim of her severed, bamboo tower. Finishing the last few steps, she slipped off her geta sandals and toted them in her hand while she walked onto the leathery flesh of the bamboo-cutter's bony palm.

 

“You are a brave young lady,” he complimented with a warm, sparsely-toothed smile and then pulled her close against his chest. The softness of weathered, woven threads met her as his cupped hand pressed tightly against his patched, haori coat like a pocket. Grasping his thumb with her small hands as she stood on her toes, the school girl peered out ahead as he ambled through the maze of bamboo. Mouth bent in a pout, she looked on with marked frustration as her soft luminescence kept her eyes from adjusting to the low light of night.

 

“I hope I'm not as bothersome to you as I am to myself,” she apologized moodily. “I'm like a firefly over here.”

 

“Your light is quite wonderful and it lifts my spirits to see it. I could never be bothered by its brilliance, but honored instead.”

 

Blushing lightly, the school girl said nothing more of it as the hobbled stride of the old bamboo-cutter continued. With the silvery plume of a burning, hearth fire blurring the clear lines of the towering foliage ahead, the sprawling, dense woods quickly opened up into a tended meadow with a modest cottage nestled in its center. Worn and stained by time, the frail hovel built from ancient timbers stood dismally gray against the lushness of the surrounding bamboo forest. Up the dirt path rutted by rain, the old man strolled toward his house until the hollow claps of his sandals sounded on the short set of stairs leading to the porch. Standing before the entrance, the gnarled fingers of his free hand reached out and he grasped the shallow handle of the sliding door. Pulling it stubbornly down its track, the timeworn planks of wood and rice paper slid disagreeably, jerking and scraping while it glided open.

 

“Love, is that you?” the raspy voice of an old woman called out as the bamboo-cutter stepped over the threshold and slipped out of his sweat-stained, geta sandals.

 

“Yes,” he replied warmly, lifting the sheathed machete secured in his belt and setting it delicately against the wall by the doorway. “And I have brought us a guest.”

 

“Have you?” she asked, rising from her crouch behind the popping fire she had been stoking. Clothed in a simple kimono of subdued blues, the hunched woman patted the dust and ash from her knees and hastily approached. With experienced fingers, she undressed the man of his labor and tools, setting the bundle of harvested bamboo he bore on his back in its place by his carpentry implements. Sighing deeply with the weights of his livelihood relieved from his aching shoulders, the bamboo-cutter gave his dutiful wife a tender peck on her cheek when she returned. “Not in front of the guest, you old fool,” she chided with blush warming her wrinkled cheeks and a coy smile hinting at her thin lips.

 

“I cannot help it. Your beauty always misplaces my manners when you are near.”

 

“Old fool,” she whispered back under her breath, shaking her head in pleasant resignation as he chuckled lightly in his amusement. “Now, where is this guest, so that in the hopes that your manners do return, I may be introduced properly?”

 

“Right here,” the elderly man answered, removing his still cupped hand from the security of his chest. “I discovered this lovely girl in a stalk of bamboo and brought her here before the cold air got to her.”

 

“She is beautiful,” she sighed, spying the glowing, young girl cradled in his palm. “What shall we do? So delicate and radiant a creature should not be left alone to the elements.”

 

“We are without child all of these years and now one has been graciously delivered to us. We can only do one thing with such a blessing. We will accept her as our daughter and care for her. She will be our little princess.”

 

“Is it me,” Kagome wondered softly with hushed words, “Or does every barren, elderly couple end up with tiny children as a blessing in these fairytales.”

 

“You needn't be tiny for long,” the bamboo-cutter replied, eliciting a surprised gasp from the school girl with his sensitive ears. “You only need to step from my palm and you shall grow.”

 

“I'll be tall again?”

 

“You will be as you are meant to be.”

 

“I suppose that would be good too.”

 

Kneeling down slowly, the old man laid his up-turned hand on the smooth planks of the wooden floor. Nervousness coursing through her limbs, she fidgeted before the waiting step of magic that normally brought some sort of extravagant embarrassment upon her. Gulping down her anxiety and rubbing her gently glowing hands together, Kagome summoned her resolve and with one final, bolstering sigh, she leapt off her perch. Enveloping her with the familiar swirl of blue sparkles, peeking glimpses of a shrinking world met her eyes through the dazzling brilliance of magic. Then it all dissipated like dying embers as her feet came to land unsteadily, but surely on the ground.

 

The lusterless, wood floor rippled with her incandescent touch, morphing into polished designs of expertly molded bamboo. The wrinkle of her presence continued beyond the floors, healing the plaster of the walls to rim them with mahogany and to paint stunning murals upon their panels. Each room stretched as it was adorned with brass lamps and fine scrolls, becoming a lavish mansion before the school girl's eyes.

 

“Wow,” she murmured her amazement which swiftly grew when the returning tingle of magic swarmed her body. The feel of her dusty tunic tightened and loosened in differing places, with the roughness of the cotton smoothing to the sleekness of silk. Long sleeves poured to the floor with the detailed pattern of a shimmering night sky and delicate blooms of jasmine embellishing the fine fabric. A conjured, fuchsia obi tightened around her abdomen with an intricate bow to bind it at her back.

 

Straightening and curling of its own volition, Kagome's long, wavy hair broke from its tie at the back of her head to float weightlessly around her. The musical tinkling of glass and shells sung as glimmering hairpins with dangling ends and exquisitely crafted combs materialized in the air. The quiet sound of swishing, ebony tresses broken by the occasional whimper of pain ensued as her hair parted and looped into elaborate buns secured with the long needles so finely decorated. Leaving a few locks to fall naturally around her face and down her back, the magic dispersed and she reached up hesitantly to feel the flawless work it had done.

 

“Be careful not to ruin your hair, dear daughter,” the elderly woman warned sweetly, her once tattered clothing now as rich as hers. “The knights are tirelessly seeking a mere glance of your beauty. If they should be so fortunate, you should not disappoint them.”

 

“The knights?”

 

“The suggestion of your matchless splendor spreads quick and these suitors have appeared for your hand in matrimony should you choose to entertain such a thought.”

 

“Matrimony?”

 

“Yes,” the bamboo-cutter replied, dressed in equal finery as his wife. “Our hearts will weep should you decide to take one as your husband, but we shall not stop you. For you to share your presence with us for but a moment has been wonderful beyond words.”

 

“Where are these knights?”

 

“Over here, but you must keep quiet or else they will notice you.”

 

“All right.”

 

Cracking the ornate shutter open a sliver, he stepped back to allow her a glimpse outside. Taking tiny steps in her restricting dress, Kagome soon peered out into the well groomed courtyard. Dressed in the elegant armor of ancient nobility, five men stood eagerly on the stone-tiled ground, scanning the massive castle for even a silhouette of their passion. Fraught with boredom and general distaste, one man appeared markedly less enthused than the rest. Under a cloud of white blossoms and haloed in long, silver hair, the missing tai youkai leaned against the narrow trunk of a plum tree with the soft moonlight showering upon him. Throwing the doors open so hard that they nearly bounced back to hit her, the school girl leaned out the window, deaf to the stunned gasps and flustered scolding erupting all around her.

 

“Sesshoumaru-sama!”