InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Simple and Clean ❯ Rain Talk ( Chapter 22 )

Hello everybody. If you haven't already guessed that I'm sad because of my dreary greeting, it's just because lately it seems that everyone isn't reviewing anymore. I really do try to get it around to everybody that I updated, because I spend so much time on writing these for you guys, and I hate to sound like I'm forcing you to give reviews, but If the reader doesn't review, the author has no motivation to write. I have no idea what anyone's feedback on the story is, so please, for the story's sake, review!

 

Other, more happy happy yumyum (don't ask…) notes: My catch phrase for the week: Good Stuff. So, everyone should go around saying to random people you see on the street “Good Stuff”. Lol, just kidding, don't be like me, you may be arrested for unnecessary harassment or something…^^ Unless you want to, then go right ahead…

Recap:

Inuyasha, Kouga, and Sesshomaru, on the other hand, spent the night out in the cold. Inuyasha chose to perch himself in the old tree in which he had been spotted by the villager the day before. He wasn't afraid of a few angry villagers, especially as they were more scared of him. He looked up at the sky above him. It was clear, without a cloud in its inky darkness. The stars twinkled, as if winking at him. And there was the moon, a giant crescent of light, casting his shadow on the grass below the tree. It was the same sky he saw outside his bedroom window in Tokyo, however different it felt. It gave him comfort that he had found something familiar in this sea of strange new things.

Chapter 22

Rain Talk

Dark purple clouds rolled angrily across the sky, boiling and swirling in what seemed like personified rage. Inuyasha turned his face upwards and caught a drop of water on his face as it fell from the sky. It trickled down his cheek, leaving a wet trail that felt like a teardrop. The Hanyou, for that, it seemed, was what the villagers had taken to calling him, hastily wiped the liquid from his face, as if ashamed by it.

More rain started to fall, at first a light sprinkling, then escalading until the drops spattered against the ground like miniature hammers. Inuyasha made his way under the trees that bordered the forest, shielding himself from the downpour. Sesshomaru, it seemed, had already taken it upon himself to do the same. He sat under a particularly large tree, its leafy bows blocking even the smallest trickle. Inuyasha shot a furtive glance at the demon before making it a point to avoid his tree. Instead, the younger brother resigned himself to a smaller tree, not as far away from the other man as he would have hoped.

There was silence as the two brothers watched the rain fall. For Inuyasha it seemed like hours had passed before Sesshomaru's soft voice broke through the rhythmic sound of the rain. “The rain smells different here,” He said, as if to no one in particular. Inuyasha scoffed, though it was half-heartedly. He was right. Everything was different here, everything was unfamiliar and Inuyasha didn't know in the slightest how to handle such a sudden change. It seemed almost alien to him, something so different from what he was used to that he was convinced that there was something wrong with it.

Inuyasha didn't reply to the older man, nor did Sesshomaru expect him to. The statement was thrown out just to be there; what it actually meant reached far beyond just a statement. It was a key into what the two men both felt, and yet had no idea that the other did too. It was as if some higher being had connected the two together, through one sentence; the tip of an iceberg so vast that it was far too beyond logical explanation for either to comprehend.

And so, the two sat there, that night, staring out into the growing shadows, each thinking their own thoughts; the pitter-pattering of the rain, the only sound that echoed through the trees. The rain lasted through the morning the next day; the second day of separation from the group. In the pre-dawn light, Sesshomaru shifted from his post, a watch guard finished with a shift, in search of the stream they had come across when they had camped in the forest only a few days before. Inuyasha trudged wearily after him, keeping a safe distance behind his demonic half brother.

Inuyasha made his way up the stream a little higher than Sesshomaru to ensure that all of the soapsuds, from the soap that Miroku had snuck out to him on the first morning of the separation, would go to good use floating down the river and contaminating whatever water Sesshomaru was using. When Inuyasha had finished, he made his way back to his own tree, deciding to take a nap to pass the time. If Sesshomaru had noticed anything peculiar, Inuyasha couldn't tell, though he was greeted with a few small rodents burrowing through his food packs when he woke up. He came to the immature conclusion that it was somehow Sesshomaru's fault. Exhaling exasperatedly, Inuyasha shoo-ed the rodents away and tied what was left of his food with a tight knot that he hoped would keep the pests away.

He sighed disappointedly as he surveyed the sky. Dark gray clouds advanced steadily over the tree-tops, and he had a feeling it was going to be another wet night. As if catering to his dreary thoughts, the first spatterings of rain formed small dark spots on the already wet earth. Inuyasha didn't know how many more wet nights he would be able to handle.

To his dismay, drops of water began to wet his hair and face as they leaked through the supposedly protective canopy of the tree. He stole a furtive glance over in Sesshomaru's direction. From the looks of it his brother wasn't having any problems with his shelter. Muttering unhappily under his breath, Inuyasha pulled his haori over his head a bit to keep his hair relatively dry so as he wouldn't catch a cold at least. You better hurry up and get better soon Kagome…

* * *

The rain fell steadily outside, and hit the roof of the headman's hut with a brisk pattering noise. Sango brushed a hair off of her brow as she leaned over Kagome once more, hoping that the roof was sturdier than it appeared to be. She half expected the rickety old thing to cave in over her head at any second. Sango wondered how Koga, Sesshomaru, and Inuyasha were doing. If this rain was any hint, their three nights “bonding with nature” hadn't been pleasant ones.

Kagome stirred in her sleep, whimpering slightly. Sango, brow furrowed, cooed softly to the girl. Kagome's face went bland again and Sango felt her muscles relax and ease. Everyone was worried about her, since she hadn't awakened since they had arrived, but the village healer assured them that nothing out of the ordinary was wrong, she was just tired. When the healer had left, Kikyo inferred that the reason Kagome was sleeping for so long was because she had not known exactly how to use the jewel; therefore, in the process of transporting them to another world, she used much of her own power as well, and depleted most of her strength.

Whatever the cause, Kagome's state did not help soothe Sango's already frazzled nerves. A large, gentle hand found its resting spot at the small of her back. Too tired to even jump from surprise, she lifted her head slowly to look at the hand's owner. Miroku smiled warmly back at her. His face was so close to hers that she could smell the heady, spicy fragrance of his breath that mingled with the clean smell of soap. For a moment it seemed as though time had stopped altogether, and Sango felt herself leaning closer, remembering the soft touch of his lips on her own. The moment was shattered as the sound of a screen door opening shook Sango out of her dream state.

“Miroku, can you please hurry up and give Sango that cloth?” Kikyo's matter-of-fact voice resonated in the pregnant silence of the room, “Rin needs to be put down for bed, and I have to go find that old healer.” Miroku nodded blandly and handed Sango the freshly dampened cloth. She turned away from the two adults, trying to hide her blazing cheeks. Had she just imagined that anything had even happened? Feeling childish and embarrassed, Sango made herself busy positioning the cloth on Kagome's forehead. She sighed with chagrin as she heard the screen door thud shut behind Miroku. Why am I acting this way? She asked herself, puzzled. It's not like I'm still in love with him, right?

* * *

Kikyo found the old healer in her hut, warming her bony, sticklike fingers in front of the fire. The flames cast a strange light upon her gaunt face, giving her the appearance of something more than human. Kikyo held back a shudder as she settled herself on the other side of the fire, bowing slightly to her elder. The woman nodded back, acknowledging her. “What would you like from me, priestess?” Kikyo raised an eyebrow at the older woman.

“Tell me,” She said, amused, “You know more than you let on, don't you grandmother?” The healer cocked her head to one side, smiling crookedly at Kikyo. “You're not from this world; I can sense it in your aura. You are much stronger than an ordinary priestess, and the young girl's clothing is like nothing we have ever seen before.” Kikyo nodded in comprehension.

“Can you help us to get back to our own world?” The healer did not look in the least surprised that her assumption had been correct. Instead she shook her head sadly, saying, “I am just a modest village healer, priestess, I would not be able to help you on your journey.” Kikyo bowed her head to hide her obvious disappointment. “Thank you for all of your help grandmother,” She paused, raising her head to reveal pleading eyes, “Is there any way to get back?”

The two women lapsed into silence as the healer thought for a few minutes. Finally she said, “There is one that I have heard of, but-”, the woman shook her head, and strands of her thin gray hair loosed itself from her tight bun. Kikyo looked at her curiously, prompting, “But?” The woman exhaled, as if this conversation was physically tiring for her.

“It is not a path that I would recommend going down. It is filled with mishap and sorrow; there is nothing good that could come from it.” Kikyo was becoming impatient with the old woman and her obvious avoidance of the topic in which she herself had mentioned. “Just tell me, for Kami's sake,” She said exasperatedly.

The old woman, sensing her vexed mood, hurried to blurt her explanation out, “The only way that I know to get you home, the only power strong enough to save you, would be that of the demon mage Naraku.” Kikyo flinched as a tendril of pain pierced her heart. She put a hand to her chest, as if to stop it, but it had already dissipated. “Naraku,” She whispered, unsure as to why her voice was so hoarse, “Are you absolutely sure that he is called Naraku?”

* * *

Rin's chest rose and fell rhythmically with her soft breathing, challenging the harshness of the sound of the rain crashing down around the hut. Besides the sleeping girl, Miroku was alone in the room. Kikyo had gone to speak with the village healer, the demons were spending a wet night outside, and Sango was tending to an unconscious Kagome. The young man ran a careful hand across his mouth, remembering the soft touch of lips, the sweet scent of shampoo and flowers. It had seemed like a passing daydream. Was that what it had been? He wondered, Just a dream?

The door slid open softly and Sango entered the room, quietly sitting down next to Miroku. For a while the two just sat, listening to the rain. Sango was the first to speak, hesitantly, as a child testing the freezing water of a lake before plunging in, “Miroku, I-”

If the silence had seemed stifling to Miroku, this feeling that was uncurling in his stomach was even worse. The feeling was so strong that it felt like a tremendous weight was pressing down on him. Suddenly, before he truly understood what he was doing, Miroku took Sango's face in his hands and kissed her tenderly upon the mouth. Breaking away from the girl, he lowered his head, mortified at himself. He hefted himself off the ground, beginning to leave, but stopping as he felt a soft hand grasp his shoulder.

“Please stay,” She whispered, cheeks burning, a tendril of some strange emotion unfurling within the depths of her heart, “Stay with me.” Miroku took a firm but gentle hold on Sango's hand, pulling her up to meet his lips. He kissed her again then, but more passionately, hesitance left behind. Miroku pulled her close to him, running his fingers through her hair, across her face, down her back, re-acquainting himself with the feelings he knew he should have never forgotten.

Neither knew how long they stayed like that, enjoying the feel of their bodies against each other, nourishing the longing that went so long without fulfillment, but when Kikyo came back from her quite different talk with the old crone, there was one extra bed roll that wasn't filled.

* * *

Wow. [sighs romantically] I didn't think that would happen quite the way it happened, but it did, and I liked it. I hope everyone really enjoyed this chapter (and its super-duper-mega-extra helping of fluff), if you did you know what to do! REVIEW! Yay!

 

 

 

 

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