InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Fortuneteller and a Nerdy Hanyou ❯ Small Time Crime ( Chapter 8 )

Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha. Har. Har. Har.

 

A/N: Thanks to those who reviewed!

As for everyone else whose fingers must be inexplicably broken, don't make me beg. Come on my bitches and babes! Show me some love!

 

 

Chapter 8

 

It was long passed midnight and two figures were weaving their way through an ancient graveyard. One was cloaked in a whitish fur; the other openly wore miko robes for all to see.

 

They trudged through the rows and rows of tombstones, making their way despite the ground being mushy with mud from the resent rains. The dampness really didn't bother them, they had been waiting for the heavens to open and pour water onto the earth—they needed the soil to be soft.

 

The man wearing the fur paused before one particularly large grave marker, one that long ago must have been quite grand. In the stone had been carved a crescent moon hanging high under the sky that rested over a large dog sleeping underneath a tall and peaceful tree whose aura of protection radiated even from the cold rock. The entire scene on the tomb gave off a feeling of chilling serenity.

 

The man, for he was a man, lifted the hood of the pelt in order to get a better look at the grave. His brow scrunched for a moment in concentration before they relaxed and his face took on a twisted smile, a grim smirk.

 

Without words, Onigumo motioned to the priestess who stood next to him. She scowled for a second as she stepped forward and began her work. Yes, it was true that Kikyou's powers were useless, but when plied enough with spells and certain drugs, he could get her to a higher plain where she had the magic strength to do menial jobs. Tonight she was digging up a grave for him.

 

With a sigh, he looked on as the miko outlined in salt the area above ground where below the earth the coffin would lie. Her eyes were blank and she moved with jerky, puppet-like motions. It was sad but necessary to keep her this way, otherwise she might get away. It was even worse that being under the influence of binding spells like these would eventually kill her. Oh well, hopefully by then, he would have the other miko in his control, and he wouldn't need Kikyou anymore. He could dispose of her.

 

Glancing up from his thoughts, he saw that she was finished and waiting for his next command. “Go one, move the dirt!”

 

Kikyou nodded then began to chant. Slowly, inch-by-inch, the outline she had made began to rise, the rectangle floating toward the night sky as it slid slowly from out of the earth. Kikyou raised her arms, ands pointing upward, moving along with the hunk of dirt, bringing it higher and higher until six feet of earth levitated above a gapping hole in the damp ground. Still chanting, Kikyou slowly began to pivot, turning to the side until the dirt hung out and away from the cavity she had creating in the cemetery floor. Unceremoniously and without thought to the tombs of those surrounding the one of with the sleeping dog on its marker, she let both her arms and the dirt to the ground. Her shoulders slumped, her head ducked, she looked tired as she panted slowly under the curtain her hair made over her face.

 

Onigumo looked at the miko's handy work and grinned. Making his way over to the precipice, he peered down to the casket that lay at the bottom. There was just enough of a rim of space surrounding the wooden box for a man to stand. Without hesitating, he leaped down, landing lightly on the ground. Immediately, he began to toy with the lid, the only clasp and lock giving away easily under his efforts. Swinging the lid wide open, his smile widen when he saw the contents that rested before him.

 

A man, his skin as pure and flushed as if he were sleeping, was wrapped in a soft white pelt. His long white hair swirled around his face and down his chest making him appear much older than the youthfulness of his skin belied. Besides the hair, there were clear laugh lines about his eyes and mouth, showing one who enjoyed his live, however short or long. There were clear marks of strong demon ancestry in the pointed ends of his ears and the red crescent moon on his forehead that matched the equally red slash marks that appeared on his cheeks.

 

Onigumo growled, as he looked upon the face the old rival. It had been a different time, and he had been a different creature entirely, but the face still brought the taste of bile to his mouth, the smell of blood to his nose, the feel of defeat to his gut.

 

No, not now, he didn't have time for this, he shook his head. Pulling the lid off the second half of the coffin open, he found what he was looking for. A box, aged and tired rested under the feet of Inu Taisho. Greedily, Onigumo jerked the wooden box into his arms and leaped out of the grave where the moon beamed down on him. He could see so much better than down in the dark recesses of the grave. Roughly, quickly, he jerked the lid off the box. Onigumo scoffed.

 

The Shikon no Tama wasn't there.

 

Not that he was surprised—it had been a dim hope that the jewel would be buried with the dead dog demon. Though it would have made his life so much easier if it had been, he hadn't counted on it. The sly old dog was too scheming to leave something like the Shikon no Tama just lying around for grave robbers.

 

But what he was looking for was there.

 

A slip of paper, thick and yellow with age lay neatly in the bottom of the box. Something Inu Taisho should have destroyed a long time ago but for the fact that the gods themselves forbade it. True, the information scrawled over it was useless to him without the Shikon, but what good was the Shikon without the knowledge he had just acquired?

 

He unfolded the parchment, and blanched at it. There was nothing, nothing written on it all.

 

 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 

Kagome woke up early, long before her first class. Instead of getting up, as she normally would have, she lay in bed daydreaming. She was tired, she had gotten in late the night before after her long talk with Inuyasha. It was a bit unnerving: after she had stopped thinking about the Shikon no Tama, she had begun to enjoy herself. They had talked about books they had read, movies they had seen, music they liked. There were more than a few dead on matches in their tastes.

 

It was kind of sad that they had so much in common, and she was using him to get an ancient artifact. That and trying to worm her way into his heart anymore than a superficial level was going to be impossible after what Kikyou had done to him. Several times she had caught him looking at her, lost in thought. There was the flash of pain—remorse. Near the end of the evening, he relaxed enough that he stopped staring, but still, he seemed to be holding her at arm's length, refusing to trust her and seeing only Kikyou.

 

Sighing, she rolled over to come face to face with his jacket, hanging off the back of her chair. She squinted at it for a moment, wondering how it got there. It was clearly Inuyasha's—she would recognize the food stains on it anywhere. Slowly she began to remember the night before.

 

She was standing on the street corner, waiting for the cab she had called for moments before from the warmth of the small cafe. She began to shake a little from the cold—since they had been in the restaurant, dark clouds had moved in and it looked as though it might just snow.

 

As if to confirm her suspicions, a tiny white flake drifted passed her line of sight. Wrapping her light coat around her a bit tighter, she shivered. Should have known…or at least looked at the damn Weather Channel. Another snowflake, and then another fell on the sidewalk, melting on contact. It was cold, but it hadn't been cold long enough for the flakes to stick.

 

She shivered again, it was cold being tucked into only the icy night. Suddenly, there was a weight on her shoulders and she felt herself wrapped in a warm, though food stained and grimy jacket. Looking up, her eyes met golden ones, for once looking a bit sympathetic…sympathy for her. She whispered a thank-you, grateful for the warmth, but guilty for the fact that he was suffering the cold in her stead.

 

Turning back to the street, it was now barely cold at all, being warmed from with in and from with out.

 

Kagome smiled, snuggling into her pillow. She had had fun the night before—once Inuyasha opened up and stopped mopping over her cousin. Sitting up in her bed, she looked out the window. Lots of slush and some snow had stuck to the barren trees. Large trucks with scrapping blades were clearing the streets to prevent ice from forming.

 

Her eyes wondered back to the jacket hanging off the back of her chair. I should return it to him…. But I don't know where he lives or works. I could call Miroku, but him and Sango are probably still asleep…

 

Reaching for her phone book, she thumbed though the pages. Moments later, she had the number and address she was looking for. However, after a minute on the phone, she realized that Inuyasha was either avoiding her or not at home. It was still rather early on Sunday morning…where could he be? Of course, if the name Higurashi appeared on the poor guy's caller id, she wouldn't blame him for not answering it.

 

That only left on logical alternative: she would return it in person.

 

Kagome found herself on the subway, bundled in her coat and clutching the paper where she had scribbled Inuyasha's apartment number less than two hours later. Folded on her lap was his coat, now freshly cleaned. Looking down at the label again, she couldn't help but smirk: despite being a fairly nice jacket, one that he could wear to work, the damned thing wasn't even dry clean only. Men. It made her feel a little better about taking his coat in the cold now that she could return it pressed and clean.

 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 

Inuyasha rolled off the couch in his office. It was strange, the night before, he had almost went home—really considered it for the first time in a long time sleeping in his own bed.

 

It's because of her.

 

No. He was finally getting sick of sleeping on the damn couch.

 

She relaxes you, she's soothing. Her aura and her scent makes you forget.

 

No. She looks too much like Kikyou.

 

Say that a much as you like, you know she's different.

 

Inuyasha grumbled and rolled on his back to look up at the plain white ceiling. It was Sunday, good a day as any to go to his apartment, make sure nothing had been stolen, and get some clean clothes for the week.

 

Climbing out onto the window ledge of his fifth story window, he looked down at the freezing world below him. As much as he hated playing the suicide victim, it really wouldn't do for him to be caught down in the lobby on a Sunday morning. He could never pretend to be that dedicated to his job.

 

Turning so that he faced the window so he looked into the office, he took a step off the ledge. Falling falling falling, and then his hand were out and catching the ledge two stories down. Three more to go… Letting go again, he caught the window ledge below that dangled him a story over the ground. I hate this part. Sucking in a final deep breath, he let go, bracing himself for the pain he knew he would momentarily feel it in his feet.

 

“Cal-lump!” There it was, the hard cement beneath his dress shoes, shaking even his hanyou bones. He landed in a kneeling position and it was all that he could to just to stoop there for a few moments until he recovered from the shock of the fall. Finally feeling able to rise to his feet, Inuyasha began to make his way to the employee parking lot. Thankfully everyone thought his car was broken, so it hadn't been towed—yet—for sitting behind the office all weekend. Hoping in the driver's seat, Inuyasha sighed—it would be a long drive though Sunday morning traffic to his apartment.

 

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

 

Kagome knocked again. Where was he? It was still pretty early in the morning—on a Sunday. Inuyasha didn't seem the type to drag himself out of bed to attend American religious ceremonies.

 

Rising her hand to the door for the third and final time, she resigned herself to the fact that she had made a trip across town for naught, and that he could possibly be avoiding her. Damn the door's peephole—it was like archaic caller id.

 

What if he is avoiding you? For some reason the very thought stung. She thought they had had a fairly nice evening the night before, and now here she was standing on his door step, probably spying on her thought the tiny glass spy-view, wishing and waiting for her to go the fuck away.

 

Wait, why do you even care what he thinks about you? You just want to save the world. Honestly, you don't even care about the innocents that will be slaughtered if Naraku is revived. All you can think about is they way he looks at you and the way you pray that he isn't seeing Kikyou.

 

If only he'd look at you and see—

 

Kagome stopped herself short. No, she wasn't going to think about that. Now was not the time.

 

Wrapping her knuckles against the wood, she was met again with no answer. She was about to turn and go when she felt a tug on her sleeve. Looking down, she locked eyes with a short, stocky woman.

 

“Need in again, Miss Kikyou? I'm sure Mr. Inuyasha won't mind,” without waiting for an answer, she pushed passed a still surprised Kagome and, using a master key, unlocked the apartment door. “I'm glad to see the two of you back together,” she smiled, and Kagome was sure that the little housekeeper was lying.

 

Shrugging at her good luck, she opened the door, and stepped inside. The rumpled look of her surroundings was what really struck Kagome as she stepped into Inuyasha's apartment. Rumpled not in a sense that he had been shopping out of the back alley's dumpster, but rumpled in a cozy way. The door opened into a small hall with a coat rack that then lead into a kitchen. There were still signs from the last time he had cooked, and from the layer of dust, that had been a while ago. Walking straight though the kitchen, past the open door to the bed room, she stepped into the living room. An over stuffed couch set off to one side, opposite to a television that had seen better days. Multiple dead plants cluttered the extra space.

 

Kagome couldn't help but smile. This place fit Inuyasha, even if he had let all his plants die.

 

She was reaching for a picture perched on the television when she heard a noise. It sounded suspiciously like the door closing, but was not followed by any other sounds that suggested someone had entered the apartment.

 

She also shrugged the odd feeling drawing her to the other room. It was so faint the tug was hardly noticeable, but with her training Kagome could recognize the feeling of a sacred artifact when she sensed it. Perhaps at sometime something has been here, but it was long gone now…

 

Turning back to the picture, she accidentally knocked it off the television. She watched as it hurtled in slow motion to the floor. Shit.

 

XXXXXXXXXXXX

 

Something didn't smell right.

 

Inuyasha sucked in another breath as he stepped off the elevator and onto his floor. There had been a strange scent in the lobby of his building, and it had only gotten stronger the closer he had come to his own door. He would have thought he had left some food out to rot if the odor hadn't been so damned pleasant.

 

Fumbling with his keys for a moment, he finally found the one to the apartment door. However, when he tried to unlock the door, it dawned on him that it was ajar.

 

Pushing the door open, he stepped inside and closed it as quietly as possibly, but there was still a loud “click” as the opened locks slid into place. Inuyasha hadn't taken two steps when he heard a thud and the sound of breaking glasses. In a flash, he was out of the hall and into his living room, staring at a very guilty-looking Kagome.

 

“I—I—” she managed to stutter out before Inuyasha exploded.

 

“What the FUCK are you doing here?!” His heart was pounding in his chest. For a moment he had thought that she had been Kikyou, and that handn't been a good thing. His hands started to shake and he did his best to cover the tremors by running his fingers though his hair. Kikyou used to have a way of getting into the apartment…he had been sure it had been her. What was stranger still was that in the instant after he realized that there was what he thought to be Kikyou standing his is living room, he had wished it was Kagome instead….And now here she was…

 

Kagome sheepishly held out the jacket. “I didn't want you to be with out this…its cold out.”

 

Inuyasha opened his mouth to yell at her again, but he couldn't do it. He relaxed, letting his body slump a bit, giving him a dejected appearance.

 

“That still doesn't explain how you go in. Miko voodoo door lock magic?”

 

Kagome gave him a sheepish smile, she was grateful he seemed to have calmed, “The cleaning lady thought I was Kikyou and she let me in. I was just going to drop it off and go, but I wanted to leave you a note, then I saw these pictures….”

 

Inuyasha sighed. It wasn't like he had found her going through his desk or dresser looking for money, and though she did smell very nervous, her scent told him that she wasn't lying. She hadn't meant any harm.

 

Reaching out, he took the jacket, holding it up in the dim light of the apartment, he saw that it was cleaner than it had been his years. Kikyou never did….

 

He pushed his ex girlfriend out of his head. It was surprisingly easier to do than he thought it would be, especially when he turned his eyes to Kagome. She was staring at him with her large brown eyes, looking more than a little nervous. But behind the anxiety, there was something more he could not place. Maybe it was a combination of hope and something like tenderness?

 

“I…” he looked down at his clean jacket and back up at her, unsure what he should. “Thanks. You didn't have to do this…” He finished lamely, feeling very embarrassed. She was here returning something for his well being, and all he could do was yell at her.

 

Continuing to stare at her for a moment, Inuyasha tried to break his gaze from her form. She was the most appealing smelling woman he had come across in a long time and it was driving his youkai into a frenzy. Nervously he tugged off his glasses and wiped them clean on his shirt.

Kagome was looking uncomfortable in their silence. Clearing her throat, “If you don't mind me asking, where were you this morning? I—I tried calling you…but” she shrugged, “weren't here.”

 

Inuyasha was caught off guard. “I…” What was the point of lying to her? “I've been sleeping in my office” he offered her a shy shrug, turning to the kitchen and trying to hide his face from her. “Coffee?”

 

Kagome stood stock still for a moment, digesting Inuyasha's words. Shaking her head, she was able to say yes to coffee, but the picture of him sleeping in his office was still a bit fuzzy.

 

“You sleep in your office?” She asked as she followed him into the kitchen area, watching as he made coffee.

 

Inuyasha flashed her a look over his shoulder. From what Kagome could read, it was some thing of an embarrassed glare.

 

“After your cousin dumped me and then after I woke up from the haze that brought on, I couldn't sleep here.”

 

“So you sleep in your office? On the floor?” She took a step toward him to take the cup he offered. It was only for a moment, but her fingers grazed his own. In that moment, Kagome was able to see the thing she had been too nervous and afraid to pick up on before: Inuyasha had held the Shikon no Tama in his hands within the very resent past.

 

“I have a couch,” he said, breaking her out of her realization.

 

Giving her head a little shake, she tried to bring herself to the conversation at hand. “Inuyasha don't let Kikyou get to you like that,” she reached out to touch his arm. A bit of guilt flared in her as she realized she was doing it more to confirm the feel of the Shikon no Tama than to comfort the sad hanyou.

 

The guilt disappeared when she felt the tug coming clearly from him. He had held the Shikon in his clawed hands, and he had done so in the very resent past; the power his youkai had absorbed was still faintly there. There was no more guessing whether or not Kikyou was right or wrong, she knew now that Inuyasha had the jewel.

 

The realization that Inuyasha was speaking jolted Kagome out of her reverie for a second time.

 

“Kagome?” He looked a little concerned.

 

“I should go,” Kagome muttered, brushing passed the confused hanyou on her way to the door.

 

Inuyasha stood stock still for a moment, his mind trying to process what had just happen. He frowned and his little doggy ears dropped into his head for the moment before he scowled. Calling out after the retreating girl, in a voice that had not been so assertive for months, “Kagome, wait!”

 

She had froze mid step at the sound of his command but did not turn around. A moment later Kagome felt a clawed hand on her shoulder, turning her to face the hanyou who looked as confused as she felt.

 

“Do you—do you want to go to dinner with me? We can go with Sango and Miroku…” His voice trailed off and he looked at her with pleading eyes.

 

Kagome's first reaction was to turn him down. She could make up some excuse, but just looking at his hopeful eyes that were so ready to accept her rejection and the drooping puppy ears on the top of his head, she didn't have the heart. He was just looking for company and she just looked like Kikyou…going on one date with the boy was a small bit of comfort she could give after playing with his affections.

 

If only you were “playing”. You like him as much as he seems to like you…

 

She brushed the voice out of her head…She knew even if he didn't realize it, he was reaching out for the closest thing to Kikyou he could find, and she happened to be it.

 

“Dinner would be great,” she found herself saying to him, smiling back at Inuyasha. “Is Wednesday night good? The club is closed and I don't have class until Thursday afternoon.”

 

Inuyasha nodded, a small smile curving at the corners of his mouth. He pushed his glass back a bit. “I'll call Sango and Miroku and let you know…”

 

Kagome smile, leaned up to peck him on the cheek.

 

Saying goodbye, she left the apartment, making her way back to her own apartment on the cold Sunday morning.

 

XXXXXXXXXXXX

 

Writing this chapter, especially the last page or two, was like pulling fucking teeth. The first 8 pages have been done since October, probably September. The ending would not write for ANYTHING. Everything I tried sounded bad, and then all my profs decided it would be fun to give me a million papers, projects, and tests…so yeah. I'm going to try to keep writing it, but I will be studying abroad Spring semester, and well, I might outline some chapters if I have time, but to tell the truth I'm not going to write anything until summer. Sorry.