InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Edge of Resistance ❯ Running up that Hill ( Chapter 18 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

The Edge of Resistance
Book Two: The Dissidents

“If I only could, I’d make a deal with God,
And I’d get him to swap our places.
I’d be running up that hill, running up that road,
With no problems.” – Kate Bush

Blame had become the center of Inuyasha’s life. When he was not smothering his thoughts with the thick blanket of manual labor, blame was everywhere and blame was everything. His ragged soul was an empire of regret, with Blame as the prime minister.

There was blame for the Plateau, blame for the Rains, blame for the loss of his friends, blame for the passage of time. Blame, blame, blame.

Some he cast at the feet of his enemies, some was put aside special for Fate and Destiny, but most he kept for himself, near to his razed heart.

The night after he met Nobunaga, Inuyasha returned to the house by the woods.

It was dark, of course. It was always dark. The first visit, right after the Plateau and the beginning of the Rains, was to a time of dancing and music, but in every dream after that he came to a house that was a sad and empty shell. He squared his shoulders and made ready to go in to visit his brother’s funeral bier with its bellflowers, only to find that this time he was frozen in place a short distance from the threshold. He heard the gentle lulling of the sea behind him and tasted its splash of salt in the air. An icy fear seized his heart at the notion that, unable to go in to complete the theater, he would be trapped in this dark and creepy place forever.

I must go in, he thought to himself, or I’ll never wake up.

An unexpected, alien voice responded.

“Some are not so lucky. Some will never wake up.”

Inuyasha’s guts twisted in cold knots. This statement seemed only to confirm his fear.

Isn’t that what death was, anyway? Never waking up? Did you dream in death? What if you were conscious and aware, but trapped there in a rotting, leather sack, and driven insane?

Surely not, but…

He pushed the thought away. It pretended to go.

Inuyasha struggled against the force keeping him out of the house. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead and evaporated in the chill, autumn night. The resistance began to give way and he felt a surge of triumph as he moved a tiny bit forward.

He stopped. The house had breathed on him. It exhaled a gust of stale, frosty air. He stood still, trying to place the memory, until he realized it was similar to that box Kagome’s mother had, the large and gleaming box where they kept all the food. It was as if someone had opened the door of it and then snapped it shut again in his face.

He needed to leave. Even if it meant running straight off the cliff behind him and plunging into the sea, he had to get out of here. Something was in that house. He understood now that he had always been aware of it; he knew it had been there all along, waiting during every dream for the right time to reveal itself. Maybe, in previous dreams, it had waited in the corner, watching with glowing eyes while he went through the ritual of seeing his brother and then going to the window to look at the red star. Maybe now it had eaten his brother’s corpse.

Dear mother, he thought in a growing panic, don’t let it get me!

The front door snapped opened.

From the black maw of the abandoned house a grayish figure emerged. It was human, but not so. He could not quite tell because it was covered from head to toe with little bits of gauzy paper. Inuyasha saw blots of black and red stains everywhere, and he realized that it was wrapped in funeral papers and was bleeding through them.

They’ve been declared dead, but they’re not.

What if death drives us insane?

It moved with terrifying speed across the front stoop and over the sparse grass. It rushed toward him with outstretched arms, emitting a shrill wail filled with hatred and despair. He was never going to be able to move. He was never leaving that spot again. He waited for those arms to wrap around him, to smother his senses with the rotting scent of death and to condemn his mind to gibbering terror forever.

He awoke on his hands and knees, crying, blubbering and tearing at the grass. He heard his voice, raw and stricken, but too late to catch what was said. How long had he been crawling around in the dark like a crazy person? There was no way to know. He crawled to the nearest tree and leaned against it, panting and staring into the dark, straining his eyes to see the calm forest and not to see the house or the paper monster. It occurred to him that sleeping in the tree would be safer, and that the familiarity of it would comfort him. Once introduced, this notion would not be denied. He climbed about halfway up the dark, stringy trunk of a jezo tree.

Inuyasha settled himself in the bows of the tree and continued to stare into the dark, wondering if dreams meant anything or nothing. He had never before given much thought to them, but repetitive dreams were always unsettling; they implied that one’s mind was obsessively digging at something that might be better left buried.

Was his brother dead? Was that what this was about it? If so, why should he care? What had that to do with him? No, if this meant anything, it meant something of weight to him.

Was the paper monster Kagome? If she were dead, she would be…

…rotting by now…

He pushed that thought away as well. If it were Kagome, why would she, why would his Kagome, ever want to hurt him?

Even though he was awake, the chill alien voice responded.

Because she blames you, stupid. Why wouldn’t she?

He stared at the dark until his eyes burned. Unknowing, he fell asleep again.

Inuyasha awoke to the pleasant sounds and smells of fish sizzling over a fire. He popped open one eye, then the other. The sky was a steely gray with a tint of purple, but the air was still chilled, and his breath turned to steam under his nose.

Inuyasha scratched his ears and stretched his back, then looked down from his sleeping place.

He almost fell out of the tree when he spotted Nobunaga, sitting under the tree and turning fish over a crackling fire, humming to himself.

“Hey!” Inuyasha called out.

He leaped down from his perch and landed on all fours in front of Nobunaga’s fire.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Good morning, Inuyasha-sama,” Nobunaga smiled. “Fish?”

Inuyasha stared at him.

“Are you sure?” Nobunaga waved a stick of smoking fish at him. “You’re not hungry?”

“Look,” Inuyasha eyed him suspiciously, “I don’t know what you’re trying to pull, but you can’t travel with me. I move too fast for you.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Nobunaga shrugged. “I only happened upon you this morning, is all.”

“Oh really?”

“Yep. Fish?”

“Fine, give me the damn fish!”

While Inuyasha gulped down the fish, Nobunaga began questioning him.

“Where are you headed from here?”

“What’s it to you?”

Nobunaga shrugged again.

“Nothing. Just curious. Passing the time.”

“My goal is to get back to Edo,” Inuyasha said, “so I have to head east and north.”

“Ah. That is a long way from here.”

“Not for me.”

Inuyasha finished his meal and stood up.

“Thanks for the fish,” he said. “But you should be less charitable to people you meet on the road. Times are hard.”

“Aren’t you the one stopping to help every person with a sad story?” Nobunaga asked.

“Yeah, but I can afford it. You, on the other hand, that’s a different story.”

“You know,” Nobunaga said in an even tone. “I’m not the same kid you met over five years ago.”

“Maybe so. But you’re still human.”

“You’re half-human.”

“I am aware of that!” Inuyasha snapped.

Nobunaga was silent. Inuyasha sighed.

“Look, I’m not going to stand out here debating with you ‘til I rust from the dew. If you think you can keep up, go ahead and try it. You’ll be choking on my dust.”

He turned and walked away.

“Later, Nobunaga. Good luck.”

Inuyasha made good time that day, traveling at a consistent speed and in the right direction without stopping. He did not pass any humans or human settlements. He estimated that, if he continued to travel at this rate uninterrupted, he would make it to Edo before the following noon. He was already leaving the mountains and had descended into the gentle foothills near the eastern coast.

The sun was setting when he came to a swollen river that cut through a mountain gorge. He paused for only a moment to watch the water glow in the reddening light. He peered closer, thinking perhaps the light was playing tricks on his eyes. It looked as though the river ran red with blood.

As he stood there he heard a scream carried by the wind from a cliff across the way. His sharp eyes could see a woman struggling to escape a dark figure, and he knew in an instant that it was some kind of demon. He caught the scent of rotting fruit and ash.

Inuyasha was there in moments. He cut down the figure without hesitation. It did not even have the chance to cry out, but fell off the cliff and into the chasm below with a deep gash in its back that frothed with green-black blood. The woman lost her balance and came close to following her assailant, when Inuyasha caught her at the last moment. He carried her away and down to the river banks.

Her breathing was shallow and ragged, and she clung to him in sheer terror, but when she looked up and saw his ears she gave a cry of new alarm.

“Demon!” she screamed in hysterics, and brought one bony fist down on his left ear.

“Ow!” Inuyasha shouted. “Damn it!”

He let go of her and she landed with a splash, and a small cry, in the river’s shallows.

“Damn it!” he repeated, glaring down at her. “I can’t believe you hit me again, Nazuna!”

The woman looked up at him in amazement. She had grown, and a long kimono had replaced the short yukuta of a girl, but there could be no doubt it was the same girl he had rescued some years ago. Her eyes, hard as obsidian, had not changed. Inuyasha swallowed his bitterness.

You’re getting this wrong, he thought, Kagome was with me when I did this.

The alien voice did not answer.

Now the young woman recognized him. She stared up from the murky water, twigs and leaves in her hair and mud splattered on her face.

“Inuyasha!”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

He was gracious enough to help her get to her feet.

“What’s the deal?”

She stared at him.

“Why are you out here alone?” he clarified.

“I am alone,” she answered simply.

“What? No one? What about your temple?”

Nazuna laughed, a sound devoid of humor. “I was never a shrine-maiden.”

She lifted her kimono a bit out of the water.

“Do you mind?” she asked him, indicating the bank with a glance. “A murky river is hardly the place for a chat about the good old days.”

Inuyasha followed her to the dry ground. She squeezed the excess water from her hair.

“As I was saying—

She was interrupted by shouting. Inuyasha looked up and was thunderstruck to see Nobunaga running toward them, panting and red in the face.

“Hey! Hey! Are you alright?”

Inuyasha gaped at him, then threw his hands up in disgust.

***

Kikyou immersed herself in her new role as nursemaid to the Hyouden. The human miko went about her day with diligence and dignity, all under the gaze of ancient tapestries and silent statues. She gave no thought to the history and the luxuries hinted at by the rooms now used only to gather dust, by the cases of moth-ravaged clothes and crumbling manuscripts. She did not pause to reflect that it all been built, maybe indifferently, maybe lovingly, by some demon or other in the dim past.

The truth was that in those early days of nursing, mending, cooking, and scrubbing, Kikyou did not think of much of anything at all.

Kagome, for her part, was rarely awake and not thinking of her onetime rival. The mystery and miracle of her rebirth was always in the back of her mind. She wanted to question her further, but she did not know how, and Kikyou only came to her when it was necessary to feed her, change her bandages, or to help her bathe.

She also did not see Kohaku or Rin except for a few, fleeting moments, and she had not once seen Sesshoumaru or Jaken. On one occasion, she asked Kikyou how the others in the household spent their days.

“Kohaku-san hunts for our food,” the other miko answered. “But as for the rest, I am sure I do not know. The master and his servant have had nothing to say to me, and that Rin person is as vaporous as a fog.”

This was one of the longest sentences Kagome could get from Kikyou in those early weeks.

It was Tamotsu who offered Kagome any real company. The strange dog demon listened with endless fascination to her stories about the modern era. At first, she feared that she should say too much, but it did not take long for her need of companionship to override any scruples in that area.

And Kagome did love to talk, especially about herself.

Day after day, Tamotsu sat beside her bed, listening, questioning, probing. Kagome found that he was more astute than his lazy, shabby appearance had led her to believe. He had a gift for picking the right questions that would lead her to the truth, even if she preferred to leave it alone.

“Where were you going that day?” he asked once.

“We were tracking Naraku,” she answered without hesitation.

“Did you do that often?”

“Always.”

“For how long?”

Kagome thought about it.

“I guess it’s been about five years, or so.”

“So as long as Sesshoumaru has hated him…Naraku, I mean.”

“Yes,” she affirmed. “Naraku was Inuyasha’s enemy first.”

“Were you getting closer?”

Kagome opened her mouth to answer, then shut it again. After a pause, she said:

“No, not really.”

“I see.”

“I really don’t want to talk about Naraku, Tamotsu-sama.”

“I bet you don’t.”

She looked at him with a slight gleam in her eyes.

“What does that mean?”

“I know you won’t like to hear it,” he said. “But you have more in common with Sesshoumaru than you think.”

Kagome did not know what to say to that, so she said nothing. But he was right; she did not like hearing it.

One day, he came into her room with a wooden case from which he pulled two bamboo pipes of different length. Their cut was irregular, and the end of each was flared. Kagome realized that they were flutes.

“Can you play?” he asked.

“No.”

“That’s no surprise. Usually only men do,” he handed the shorter one to her.

“But you’re a different kind of woman, so I figured it was okay.”

He sat down and brought the second flute to his lips.

“Hold your fingers like this,” he said, before emitting a long, low sound that echoed in the empty room like a whale song.

When she was left alone, Kagome often sang. Her voice, while not impressive, was clear and precise. She soon discovered that, the more she sang, the stronger she felt in her chest. Her lungs expanded and took in more air. Her voice grew louder, and in that house of indifferent sentinels, she did not bother to be shy. She drew upon all her memory and recreated dozens of songs she had heard in her life, from nursery rhymes to aching love songs she and her friends used to sing, using their hairbrushes as microphones.

These things were her only comfort.

So it was that sometimes a voice drifted down the hall and through the cold and dry house, and sometimes two flutes wove a stilted melody that one could hear in the gardens. This was a strange enough phenomenon to rouse the curiosity of Rin and to reel her in from her ethereal orbit. She spent more and more time in the sick room, listening to the music and clapping her hands and laughing with delight. For her, it was a marvelous new way to pass the time. For Tamotsu, it would always be remembered as one of the happiest periods of his life.

Even Kikyou began spending more time in that room, drawn by Kagome’s strangeness and her own unconscious need to end her solitude. It was not long before she started bringing meals to the room, enough to nourish three human women and to tempt one indulgent dog demon. Soon, Rin was in the habit of carrying the tea, walking behind Kikyou and laughing and talking like a bubbling spring. Kikyou, taciturn as always, became used to her.

Only Kohaku, Sesshoumaru, and Jaken remained apart. Kohaku could still not bear to be in the same room with Rin and he avoided her at all costs. Sesshoumaru and Jaken saw nothing to be gained from such company.

Despite the three gloomy inmates, a gradual atmosphere of life and light overtook the house. It became a place of regular meals and orderly habits. Rin became a little less abstracted, Tamotsu a little more content, and Kagome a little stronger. And Kikyou…Kikyou became a little more real.

Kagome had been awake almost two months before she saw Sesshoumaru again. If it were not for the presence of Rin and for Tamotsu’s unmistakable resemblance to him, she might have forgotten where she was.

Sesshoumaru had no interest in seeing her, or anybody else. Kikyou tactfully avoided him. Kohaku spent all day every day roaming the surrounding hills and forests, searching, trapping, killing, and skinning. As long as the situation was thus arranged, Sesshoumaru could comfortably ignore it. He had long since decided that he was only waiting for Naraku to arrive anyway.

Why should he, Sesshoumaru, prince of the West, traipse around the countryside after such a worthless individual? It was infinitely preferable that Naraku would be made to come to him. With so many of his enemies in one place, Sesshoumaru assumed that it was only a matter of time before the despicable half-breed would be stupid enough to walk right up to the front door and knock.

He spent most of his time standing on the north terrace, watching the lands dry and crack under the endless sun and barren winds. He was beginning to find comfort in the fact that he had nothing to worry about, that he had only to wait until Naraku arrived, dispatch him, and then go about his business. He would then either kill the humans or drive them out, whichever suited him—it did not matter.

On one November morning, he was musing on such matters and heading towards the stairs to ascend to his favorite spot, when he was arrested by an unexpected sight.

Kagome was sprawled across several steps, about halfway up the flight, with her head resting on her elbows. She was pale and trembling. When she saw him, her eyes widened a bit, but otherwise she did not react.

“You are in the way,” he said.

She winced. She had hoped he would just step over her.

“I tried,” she said, struggling to breathe enough to talk, “I tried to get down and back myself, but I can’t. I’m…I’m stuck here.”

He looked at her, but did not respond. He saw her eyes darken. If she was trying to hide her contempt, she was failing.

Seeing no sign that she was preparing to remove herself, he suppressed a sigh of annoyance and moved to step around or over her. He took only one step, however, before he felt ridiculous. He wondered what his father would say.

Then he wondered why such a stupid thought had occurred to him.

Kagome saw the flicker of annoyance cross his brow and she assumed he was annoyed at her invalidity. In truth, he was suffering the departure of his self-assured contentment.

Kagome’s discomfort, meanwhile, was also increasing. She wished over and over again that he would leave.

Can’t you just fly over me? she thought with exasperation.

He moved closer to her and she braced herself lest he accidentally step on her.

Excuse me, ma’am, she imagined him saying. It was almost funny.

Then she was no longer on the steps. Her rib cage came down on something hard, which she soon realized was a great demon lord’s shoulder, and she found herself looking at a mass of silver hair.

Wow, she thought to herself giddily, shiny.

He began to climb the stairs, and Kagome felt guilty. She almost apologized for being a burden, but then could not decide how he would take that. Before she could make up her mind, he had deposited her on her bed and was gone again. Kikyou, who had only just come into the room to find it empty, had witnessed the whole thing with astonishment.

After that, she made certain that Kagome never again left the room alone.

***

Inuyasha did not need company. He wasted no time in heading off any suggestion that Nazuna or Nobunaga would travel with him.

Nazuna looked at him as though he were suggesting that she bear his children.

“Travel with you?” she asked. “Why would I want to do that?”

“Oh yeah?” he asked with indignation. “What else are you going to do, huh? Wander around in these hills ‘til another one of those black demons gets you?”

“Do you want me to go with you then?”

“I just said NO!”

“Then why don’t you shut it?”

“Shut it?” he blinked.

“Yeah, shut it. No one asked you for anything. Thanks for saving me, again, but I’m not going to follow you around like a puppy because of that. Or did you want something else?”

He caught the suggestion in her tone and he bristled.

“As if!”

Nobunaga interrupted them.

“It’s getting dark you know, maybe we should find a place to camp.”

They turned on him.

“We’re NOT traveling together!”

He waved his hands.

“No, no, of course not. But we’re all here anyway and we need to sleep.”

“Maybe you need to sleep,” Inuyasha muttered.

“I’m not sleeping out in the woods,” Nazuna declared.

“Oh, do you have a house nearby?” Nobunaga asked.

“My home is near, yes.”

“Well, we would be glad to accept a night’s comfortable lodging in exchange for saving you.”

“Hey!” Inuyasha interjected. “You didn’t do anything! And I told you, we’re not traveling together!”

“Fine,” Nazuna shrugged, ignoring Inuyasha. “There’s plenty of room these days.”

She turned and began walking south along the river.

“Good. Isn’t that good, Inuyasha?” Nobunaga smiled.

Inuyasha stared at him.

“Something’s the matter with you,” he said. “Really. I don’t have time for this.”

Nobunaga did not respond, but left and followed Nazuna.

“Are you coming?” he called back.

Inuyasha considered complying. He wondered why he should have to be alone, but he shook it off. He did not say goodbye. He turned his face to the southeast again and continued traveling until the moon was high in the sky. He traveled on through the night, not wishing to risk another encounter with the paper monster.

When the sunrise broke the cold morning, he estimated that he was less than fifty miles from Edo. Despite his dedication to avoiding distractions, he could not help but skid to a sudden halt when he heard the clamor of many voices, shouting in alarm. They were so near that he could smell grease, sweat, and blood.

Even if it was simple curiosity, he could not stop himself from investigating. He told himself that he just wanted a little look. After all, maybe one of his friends was involved. Being this close to Edo, it was not impossible.

The alien voice was not buying it, but it did not comment.

Inuyasha veered to the left, heading a little north, and slowed down. He walked with caution through the dark and heavy pines and he smelled smoke ahead of him. He came to a clearing where many people were gathered and he hid himself behind a tree to learn what the commotion was about.

It became clear that several people were at the mercy of a large crowd. The crowd exhaled rage and a thirst for blood. Through many shouts he ascertained that the prisoners were accused of causing the Rains, and thus many deaths.

Inuyasha knew it was impossible that these strangers were responsible for the rains. If anyone were to blame, it was him, or Naraku, or maybe Kagome. He sensed the explosive potential of the crowd and wondered if he should intervene before the luckless individuals were torn to pieces.

“Aren’t you going to do something?”

Inuyasha jumped near out of his skin and pressed his back against the tree. For a split second, he thought it was just the nagging alien voice, but he saw a young man standing next to him, in common clothes, who looked fourteen going on forty.

“Who the hell are you?” he demanded, trying to keep his voice down.

“I thought for sure you were the type to interfere in business like this,” the young man said, ignoring his question. “Maybe I was wrong.”

“Do I know you?”

“My name is Taroumaru,” the boy answered. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

“Sorry kid. Can’t say that I do.”

“You helped my village once.”

You’re going to have to be more specific, Inuyasha thought but didn’t say.

“We were being terrorized by a demon masquerading as our water god. My father was the headman then.”

Inuyasha stared at him, dumbfounded, then groaned and sank his head into his hands.

“For crying out loud,” he muttered. “What next?”

***

“Why do you spend all your time here?”

Tamotsu looked up from his idle occupation with a necklace that Kagome had surrendered to him for closer inspection. It was a simple medallion hung on a chain.

“There’s nothing else to do,” he shrugged.

“What did you do before I was here?” she asked.

“Well, back then, before the Rains,” he said, as if speaking of an era long past, “there were plenty of humans in the villages nearby.”

This statement was followed by a long silence, and at length Tamotsu looked up from the necklace. Kagome’s expression was one of dread and repugnance.

“I didn’t eat them, Kagome-chan,” he laughed.

Kagome flushed.

“Oh,” she murmured. “Then what did you do?”

“I never had much to do with the men. But the girls were quite obliging. You may not believe this, Kagome-chan, but I’m considered a pretty sort of thing in some quarters.”

“Oh,” she said again, this time with less relief.

Then she turned her head to look out the window and her eyes were distant.

“I used to know someone like you.”

“Used to?” Tamotsu asked.

“Well, I guess I still do. I hope I still do.”

“I still don’t understand how you had this on the whole time,” Tamotsu said, holding up the necklace.

Kagome knitted her brows.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I was there when Sesshoumaru brought you here. We treated your wounds, bathed and dressed you and—

“You did WHAT?” Kagome exclaimed, her face flaming and her voice elevating several octaves.

“Well…yeah. How did you think it happened?”

Kagome buried her face in her hands.

“I didn’t think about it! Oh my god!”

“What’s the matter with you?” he asked.

“What’s the matter with me?” she cried. “What’s the matter with you? You…you’ve…you’ve seen me naked! AND Sesshoumaru? Oh my god!”

“Oh, is that all?” he smirked at her. “You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

Kagome’s gasp echoed in the large room.

“Get out!”

“What?”

“GET OUT!”

She threw a seed pillow at him, which he easily dodged. She turned her back on him and buried her face in the remaining pillows.

With stoic gallantry, Tamotsu returned the pillow to its rightful place.

“I’m sorry, Kagome-chan,” he said, still smiling. “I should have known that such an honorable maiden as yourself would react in such a way. I’ll come back when you’re less…flustered.”

“I am not flustered!” Kagome’s muffled voice still managed to carry indignation.

As he was leaving the room, he encountered Kikyou and he acknowledged her with a smirk and short bow.

“We are not having a good day,” he warned her before he left.

Kikyou stared after him, then shrugged her shoulders and entered the room.

When she was able to get the story out of Kagome, she smiled in spite of herself.

“I would not worry about it overmuch, especially about Sesshoumaru. I doubt he would look at you twice.”

Kagome felt a trifle hurt, then a little stupid for feeling a trifle hurt.

“Yeah, but that other one,” she said. “You don’t know what he’s like.”

“I assure you I know quite well,” Kikyou responded. “I have caught him looking at both of us more than once. And Rin-san too, of course.”

“Rin-chan? But she’s just a child! How revolting!”

Kikyou gave her a sharp look.
“Kagome,” she said in a firm voice, “Rin-san is not a child. She is older than when you first met her. Time has passed since then.”

Kagome was about to retort that there was no need to restate the obvious, when she stopped. Had she really noticed? What did Rin actually look like, right now?

In truth, she wasn’t sure.

“Damn,” was all she said.

“Forgive yourself,” Kikyou told her. “I have done the same. It is one of those habits we have to correct about ourselves.”

The next day, Tamotsu returned, and Kagome tried to pretend that nothing had happened.

“Do you know Inuyasha?” she asked him.

Tamotsu was sitting cross-legged beside her, slicing a carrot. He offered her a slice, which she took and nibbled.

“No, I never met him.”

“Are you related to him?”

“No. I am related to Sesshoumaru’s mother.”

Tamotsu popped a slice of carrot in his mouth. He noticed Kagome’s expression had become pale and grave.

“What’s the matter now?”

“It’s nothing.”

“If you intend to make a career of lying I suggest you practice, a lot.”

Kagome rolled her eyes. Her attention was diverted by the low, mournful sighing of a dove, somewhere outside in the cold morning.

“I…I really can’t talk about it.”

Tamotsu rose without another word and left the room. Kagome stared after him, rather dumbfounded that she had offended him so easily.

Maybe I shouldn’t be spending so much time with him, she thought to herself.

Only a few minutes later, however, he returned. He had brought Kikyou with him. Her expression was curious.

Tamotsu resumed his seat and picked up his carrot.

“Maybe you’ll tell her?” he suggested.

Kagome looked at him, then at Kikyou, then at her hands.

“What is this about?” Kikyou stood at the foot of her bed.

“It happened back…after everything that happened,” Kagome struggled. “I guess I forgot about it, until now.”

“What?”

“Sesshoumaru’ s mother,” she addressed Tamotsu. “Her name, it’s Chiyoko, isn’t it?”

Tamotsu stopped chewing and stared at her.

“I know that,” she went on, “because Ichiro told me.”

***

Inuyasha shuffled through the calendar in his memory.

“So who’s next?” he wondered aloud.

“I beg your pardon?” Taroumaru asked.

“It’s nothing,” Inuyasha shrugged. “So you were saying, you expect me to do something.”

“If you don’t, those people will burn.”

“Burn?” Inuyasha looked at him sharply. “You’re exaggerating.”

“No, I’ve seen it before. I’m only one man. I can’t stop it. Though, sometimes, I’ve cut it short.”

A noise diverted Inuyasha’s attention. He saw that the prisoners had been bound and that some in the crowd were busy carrying cut trees into the clearing.

Inuyasha considered his options. They were not many.

While he sat in thought, the fires had been fed and were now blazing over the heads of the people.

“If you’re going to do something, you’d better do it soon,” Taroumaru urged.

Inuyasha groaned and kicked the dirt. This was not going to be easy. If only Sesshoumaru were there. That kind of thing, come streaming from the sky with giant fangs thirsting for their blood, that’d show ‘em.

Inuyasha stepped into the clearing.

But he’s not here. No one’s here. I’m alone.

“Hey!” he shouted. “Hey!”

Nothing happened.

“Hey! You steaming piles of donkey shit!”

That got the attention of about half of them, the rest soon turned to see what their companions were looking at.

The crowd began muttering in ugly tones and Taroumaru realized with alarm that he was standing next to their new object of interest.

“Yeah, I’m talking to you, you sons of pigs. What’s going on here? Disperse now and I might let you live.”

This was not at all what Taroumaru had expected, but he found he was not unhappy about the turn events had taken. He did know Inuyasha well enough to understand that the half-demon was mostly bluffing, trying to frighten the crowd into backing down without violence.

The fanatical, however, are rarely so rational. With a few exchanged looks, they began to advance on the pair, with clubs, torches, and the other usual fare of peasant mobs.

Without changing expression, Inuyasha leapt into the air and over their heads. Taroumaru stared at him in astonishment.

“Watch out for yourself!” Inuyasha called.

Taroumaru was beginning to think he had made a slight miscalculation.

Inuyasha had not abandoned him however. In the few moments he spent in the air, he drew his sword.

Inuyasha had not touched Tessaiga since that terrible day, and he feared the sword might have forsaken him.

“I know you’re probably pissed,” he muttered, “about how things turned out. So am I. But don’t turn your back on me now.”

Before his toes touched the ground, Tessaiga had revealed itself. Most of the people nearby stopped and stared with incredulity. Here was a thing they had never before seen.

With one shout, Inuyasha warned all that would remain intact to scatter, and then with one swing he destroyed the bonfires. The power of Tessaiga tore through the clearing like lightening from the ground. The force smothered the fires and splintered the wood. People ran screaming in all directions.

In the turbulent confusion, Inuyasha looked around to see if anyone was hurt. He did not see any bodies lying on the ground. Off to the side, he saw Taroumaru hastily untying the prisoners. Inuyasha observed that they were all priests.

Inuyasha learned from the priests that they had been targeted by the mob for the sole reason that they were priests. Their shrine had been burned and its relics destroyed. They explained that, the best they could understand, they and their way of life was blamed for the cataclysmic rains.

Within minutes, it became clear that they looked to Inuyasha for what to do next. They had probably purified or otherwise nullified many demons in their career, but now was not the time to be finicky.

Inuyasha, however, had managed to shake off Nobunaga, and Nazuna, and countless other suppliants, and was not prepared to lead a gang of robed priests throughout the countryside. He made it clear that they were now on their own, and then he was gone.

***

Kagome related to Kikyou and Tamotsu everything that had transpired before she awoke in the Hyouden. They had already heard about her confrontation with Naraku. Now, she recounted every step she had taken in the dreaming world, and repeated every word she had heard, in particular from Midoriko and Ichiro. Every circumstance was questioned and examined by her audience.

“You should have told me this immediately,” Kikyou said.

“I’m sorry.”

The room was silent. At last, Tamotsu spoke.

“This is the real reason I’ve been here every day. I knew, sooner or later, something like this would come out.”

“How did you know?” Kagome asked.

He shrugged.

“I can’t say. It’s not like you two. I haven’t had dreams or visions. But I just know. Something big is coming and, unlike Sesshoumaru, I am not too blind to see it coming.”

Kikyou began pacing the room.

“This is my fault,” she murmured to herself.

“What?” Kagome asked.

“I have become complacent,” she answered. “Here, in this house. I have become absorbed in chores and everyday details and have forgotten—no, I let myself forget—the forces that drove me here. I have let too many things slide.”

“Kikyou, I don’t think you’re being fair to yourself.”

Kikyou sat down beside her and took her hands with earnest.

“Do you not see our danger? When we ignore the signs, we run the risk of repeating those same old cycles, and of being punished.”

She ran a bold hand down Kagome’s wrist and up her right arm, following the lightening shaped scar.

Kagome snatched her hands away and her eyes fill with tears.

“It is no more your fault than mine, Kagome, much less so I would say.”

“For heaven’s sake Kikyou, you were dead! How can you bear blame?”

“Maybe I was dead for the same reason.”

“You’re saying you ignored signs back then, that you engaged in the same behavior.”

Kikyou was silent for a moment.

“I may have,” she answered. “I cannot be sure. But just because I cannot, or could not, see it, does not mean that it was not there.”

Kagome shook her head. “This is too much,” she said.

“Look at me!” Kikyou put her hands around Kagome’s face. “Look here at what has happened. I am alive! Is that not too much?”

At this point, Tamotsu could no longer contain himself.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, but wait. Alive? I feel I’m missing half the story here.”

Kikyou looked at him, then at Kagome.

“Do you want me to explain it to him?”

“I certainly don’t want to.”

Kikyou closed her eyes for a moment to gather the armies of her memory and, for the first time in her life, she told the entire story of her own existence. She left nothing out. She explained, in vivid detail, how she had been entrusted with guarding the Sacred Jewel and how she had come to love the half-demon Inuyasha, and Tamotsu noticed that a shadow pass over Kagome’s features. She recalled the dying bandit Onigumo and the events that led to her first death. She explained that she had attempted to take the Jewel with her to the afterworld, and to seal its powers, but instead it had gone to her reincarnation, Kagome. She recalled her resurrection at the hands of the witch, Urasue, and her years spent as the walking undead. She told them how she found and rescued Kohaku.

“Then, one night, I saw an apparition by the river. She was before me. I looked into her eyes. She was Death. I thought to myself: you knew you could not go on like this forever.”

Tamotsu swallowed hard.

“She told me I was the wrong one,” Kikyou went on. “Then she left. She took my soul collectors with her. I heard someone screaming my name, which I now know was Kagome, though she was miles away. I passed out.”

She placed a hand over her heart.

“I awoke like this, and it was raining. The rest you know. Since that day I could hear Kagome’s heart beating. I was following it when you found us.”

Tamotsu said nothing for a long time. Then he questioned Kagome.

“And you said, that you met Ichiro-sama, and that he said everyone had to work together and that both of his sons were your allies, as well as Chiyoko-sama?”

“That pretty well sums it up, yes.”

“Well, this has the honor of being the most insane morning I’ve ever spent,” he shook his head. “What you’re saying, what you’re suggesting, is insanity.”

“I quite agree,” Kikyou said. “But it is true nonetheless.”

“No,” Kagome said. “Insanity was what we were doing before.”

“What are you going to do now?” he asked them.

“The first thing is for Kagome to recover, and I mean more than merely her health,” Kikyou answered. “I have cared for her physically, but have neglected her spiritually.”

Kagome thought that sounded ominous.

“What do you mean?” she asked in alarm.

“I need to think of ways to train you, as a priestess.”

Kagome did not even try to hide her displeasure.

“I was afraid you’d say that,” she groaned, sinking back into her pillows.

Kikyou turned to Tamotsu.

“I believe you need not tell Sesshoumaru-sama about any of this.”

“What? But it obviously concerns him in particular.”

“What do you suppose he will say?”

Tamotsu sighed.

“Someone is going to have wake that guy up,” he said.

“Yes, but I do not think it will be anyone in this house,” Kikyou said.

“It must be at least some comfort to you,” Tamotsu said, not knowing for sure which miko he meant, “to know, by these visions, that they still live.”

He wondered if he should at least tell Sesshoumaru that Inuyasha still lived, since he knew his cousin believed otherwise, but he did not voice these thoughts out loud.

They were silent for a few minutes, and then Kikyou said,

“Yes, we are lucky. They are probably scattered and know nothing.”

Kagome thought not just of Inuyasha and her other traveling companions, but also of her mother, brother, and grandfather.

“It must be so lonely for them.”

They did not speak of it anymore that day. Kagome and Tamotsu spent the remainder of it in their customary idleness. For most of the time, Rin was with them. Kikyou, however, had broken her absorbed distraction forever, and was dedicated with renewed vigilance to improving Kagome’s condition. She spent the day searching the house and even the land nearby for items that could help her, ignoring the silent and implacable hostility of Jaken. Her preoccupation was a panacea to the pain of her memories and the fear for her future.

That night, Tamotsu drifted off to sleep humming one of Kagome’s songs to himself.

All you need is love, love.

***

Jinenji lumbered over his small garden plot, pulling out hard and thorny weeds with his giant hands. He had been fortunate up until now. The location of his little homestead was so clever that he had not lost everything to the Rains. He managed, through perseverance and much toil, to eke out a meager existence and to sustain his neighbors, at least those that stuck around.

His neighbors had laughed with scorn when he filled every vessel he could get his hands on with water during the rains.

“Why do you save it? It’s falling from the sky for free!”

Now, it had not rained in over two months, and the deluge, for all its tremendousness, was soon forgotten by the earth. He was already obliged to tap into his reserves.

He was on his way to his storage shed to retrieve some water, when he spotted a blur of red in the right field of his vision. In the next moment, he recognized the half demon, Inuyasha, who was approaching him, but did not seem to see him. In fact, Jinenji began to become alarmed, but not in time to prevent Inuyasha from tripping right into him.

Jinenji, of course, remained solid and unmoved. Inuyasha landed flat on his backside. He was thinking to himself how embarrassing it would be if he had just plowed into some great, demon lord. He pictured his brother looking down on him with his special brand of utter disdain. Instead, he looked up and saw the gentle giant he had met years ago.

“Jinenji!” he exclaimed.

“Hello, Inuyasha-sama,” the giant rumbled.

“Could you excuse me a moment?” Inuyasha smiled at him. It was a strange, tight expression.

He then turned and went some distance away into a nearby field. Jinenji watched in perplexed wonder as Inuyasha stomped around in the field, swinging his sword at weeds and screeching the vilest profanities at the top of his lungs.

[End of Chapter Nineteen]

[Next Chapter: How Soon is Now?]