InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Sweetest Escape ❯ Fumbling for a Future ( Chapter 17 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha, Rumiko Takahashi does.

Author's Notes: This chapter is very…dialogue-y. Sorry about that. But, I think it's needed. Just a quick little chapter to get some major things going. I'm going out of town this Friday, and won't be able to update, so I thought I'd give you a little something-something to tie you all over.

Enjoy!

Chapter 17: Fumbling for a Future

“So, Kagome?”

“Yes, Mama?”

“Did you ever finish your book?”

“What book?” Her mother gave her a knowing look, a small smirk on her mouth.

“The one you were reading a while ago. With the girl and her abusive uncle?”

“Oh! That book…” Kagome exclaimed, her lie hitting her with ample force.

“Yes, that book,” her mother said with a knowing smile in the girl's direction. “How did the girl fare?”

“Um…well, you see…I haven't really actually finished the book, but—”

“Kagome.”

“Yes?”

“You're a terrible liar, Dear,” her mother told her gently. Kagome sighed and slumped into her seat.

“I know.”

“How is Inuyasha, then?” the older woman asked, concern etched onto her face. She set the notebook she'd been scribbling in aside, laid her half-rimmed spectacles against her bosom, and folded her hands in front of her, giving her daughter her undivided attention. Kagome shrugged.

“There are good days, and then there are bad days…The worst part is that you never know when he's going to have what kind of day…”

“I see.”

“The other day…it was terrible. He had these big…gashes in his back…It was awful,” Kagome murmured, shuddering at the memory of his shredded back.

“I know. I saw the shirt in the wash.” Kagome winced.

“You weren't supposed to,” she said quietly. “I'm sorry…I wanted to talk to you about it. I've wanted to for a while, I just…I was afraid to tell, because Inuyasha trusted me with his secret…” Kagome said. Her mother grabbed her hands, giving them a comforting pat across the kitchen table.

“It's okay, Kagome. In all reality…you didn't really tell. I sort of figured it out on my own,” the older woman admitted.

“Really?”

“Mm-hm.”

“How?”

“Kagome, when a teenage boy spends as much time at someone else's house as that boy does here…when he latches onto someone who shows him any bit of kindness…it's not difficult to read between the lines,” Mrs. Higurashi explained softly. Kagome stared at her. `I knew she was way too perceptive for everyone else's good…'

“How long have you known? Or, suspected?”

“Oh…about around the time that you tried to throw him that birthday party. When you came home upset, Kagome…it was a bit of a giveaway.”

“I guess it would be…”

“You wear your heart on your sleeve, Sweetie,” Mrs. Higurashi said kindly, a small smile on her face. Kagome slumped.

“I know I do…” she mumbled.

“So have you asked him?”

“Asked him…oh! About…moving in?” Her mother nodded, and Kagome fiddled with the nail of her pinky finger. “Um…well, I kind of brought it up a couple of days ago…”

“And what did he say?”

“He said that he could never put that kind of burden on our family. He says he doesn't want to make trouble for us.”

“You…you've told him that he wouldn't be a burden, yes?”

“Of course I have! I just…I don't think he believes me…I don't know what it will take to make him believe me.” Kagome eyed her mother, the woman's brow creased in thought as she stared at the table. “Mom? You'd…you'd really do that for him? You'd really take him in? Just like that?”

“Of course I would, Kagome,” Mrs. Higurashi emphasized. “Far be it from me to deny a child refuge. Inuyasha is a sweet boy, and I know he means a lot to you. I'd never turn him down if he requested to stay.” Kagome smiled fondly and admiringly at the woman across the table from her.

“You're the absolute best, Mom,” Kagome told the woman warmly, getting up to embrace her gratefully. “I don't know anyone in the world with a heart as big as yours.”

“Oh, I think I might know one other person…”

“Inuyasha, how nice to see you,” Mrs. Higurashi greeted the tall young man on her doorstep.

“Hi, Mrs. Higurashi,” he said with a small wave.

“I'm afraid Kagome's not home right now…I sent her out on errands,” the woman said apologetically. “She should be back in an hour or so.”

“Oh…okay. I'll just…wait, then,” he said, looking about the empty courtyard. He moved to seat himself underneath the shade of a nearby oak tree when the woman stopped him.

“You don't have to wait outside, Dear,” Mrs. Higurashi chuckled, ushering him into the house. “It's getting chilly out. Come inside before you catch something,” she instructed, gently placing her hand on his back. “You can keep me company,” she added with a smile as she went into the kitchen.

“Souta and your father aren't here?” Inuyasha asked, following her into the room. He never really knew just what to call Kagome's grandfather besides…well…Kagome's grandfather. It was a bit awkward for him.

“No. Souta's gone out to a birthday party, and Grandpa is playing bridge down at the senior center.” Inuyasha raised an eyebrow, and Mrs. Higurashi laughed lightly, running hot water over the pile of pots and pans in the sink. “Not that he would ever call it a senior center…he likes to call it a `getaway for the mentally and physically mature',” she told the boy with a shrug and a shake of her head.

“What exactly is bridge, anyway?” Inuyasha asked. He sat down at the kitchen table and poured a small pile of salt and a small pile of pepper onto the surface.

“No one really knows but the `mentally and physically mature',” she quipped. Inuyasha smirked at her joke as he idly traced tiny designs into his seasoning mixture with the tip of a claw.

“Do you need help?” he asked hesitantly. The woman had been kind enough to allow him to keep company with her daughter; the least he felt he could do was help her clean the kitchen…since he'd probably helped to dirty it in the first place.

“Why, sure. Thank you, Dear. Um…you can unload the dishwasher if you'd like.”

Inuyasha opened the large contraption, squinting as the plumes of steam from the recently run cycle billowed out into his face. He began to deftly stack the plates, bowls and cups in their respective cabinets, and then quickly sorted the silverware.

“Well, look at you, knowing where everything goes,” Mrs. Higurashi smiled at him. He shrugged, closing the door to the dishwasher and picking idly at the edge of the counter.

“I come over enough,” he muttered.

“That is true…if you could finish these pots while I start dinner, that would be a big help,” she said, offering him the scrub brush, which he took, replacing her at the sink's edge while she rummaged around in the refrigerator for ingredients.

“So…Inuyasha…” the woman began after a few minutes of silence.

“Yes?”

“I saw the painting you made of Kagome.” Inuyasha flushed and lowered his ears.

“You did?”

“Yes.” She gave the boy an approving look. “You've got quite the artistic flair,” she complimented. The sound of Mrs. Higurashi's knife hitting the chopping board sounded in the kitchen for a few moments as Inuyasha collected himself.

“You…you think so?” he finally asked.

“Well, of course. It's very lovely.”

“I…I didn't know she showed anyone,” he mumbled. `She wasn't supposed to show anyone,' he thought with a silent growl. `But…I guess I didn't tell her not to…'

“Oh, yes,” Mrs. Higurashi chuckled lightly. “It was all she could talk about for days on end. All we heard from her was `how talented Inuyasha is' or `how creative Inuyasha is' or `how very proud of Inuyasha' she is,” the woman explained, waving the blade of the knife in circles animatedly as she spoke, stopping every so often to continue chopping the zucchini. She shot the teenager a sly look. “I have to say, I find myself agreeing.”

“Keh!” Inuyasha muttered, blushing like mad and ducking his head. Kagome's praise he was used to. Well…not truly used to, but she'd always complimented him. He reveled in her praise, and he was fast growing into the inherent fawning that she tended to engage in over him. But Mrs. Higurashi? He was in no way used to her giving him such wonderful compliments. The older woman had always been very kind to him, and he absolutely adored it when she called him `Sweetheart'. But under the shower of her praise, and her indirect statement of being proud him, he swelled with rare pride, and practically gushed with appreciation for her saying so. It had been so very long since any type of parental figure had said that they were proud of him…

“Your parents must be so proud,” she assumed, and Inuyasha froze. He shook his head and squirted a dollop of soap onto a pot, trying to play off his unusual reaction.

“Oh…uh…um, well, my mom's gone—she…she died a while back…”

“Oh, Inuyasha…I'm so sorry; I had no idea,” she was quick to apologize, sending him a sympathetic look.

“It's fine, I'm over it,” he said. That wasn't quite true, but he couldn't have her thinking that he was mourning every day, now could he?

“Well, what about your father? Surely he's proud of you.”

“My dad…he…he's not really into the whole `art' thing…” Inuyasha lied. He felt bad lying to Mrs. Higurashi; the woman had been so wonderful to him. It was necessary, however.

“Really? Hm,” she grunted thoughtfully. “I would think that a parent would be interested in whatever talent a child possessed.”

“It's just…well…I think he puts value in…other places, I guess,” Inuyasha mumbled. What in the world was Mrs. Higurashi getting at?

“Other places such as?”

“Well, I…I'm…I'm not smart like my brother,” he said with a wince. `How does she do that?' he thought with a slight frown. `Like mother, like daughter. Damn it.'

“Really? You strike me as a very intelligent young man, Inuyasha,” she said thoughtfully. She took a piece of chicken breast from the package and began to cut it into chunks.

“Keh,” he grunted with another blush.

“And don't forget: there are many different kinds of intelligence,” she reasoned. `Where have I heard that before?' he thought.

“So do you plan on going into art in college?” she asked suddenly. Inuyasha grimaced, and scrubbed at a particularly stubborn piece of cabbage that had adhered to a pot.

“Oh…um…college…I don't know about that,” he admitted.

“Why not? From what I've seen, you'd do very well in a rigorous art program; your work is so very life-like.”

“Thanks, but…I don't think I could do it anyway,” he muttered.

“Why not?” she repeated.

“My…my dad—well…I don't think we could afford it,” he said quietly. He hoped that she would drop the subject and let that be the end of it. She didn't.

“Well there are all types of scholarships, Sweetheart,” she continued. I'm sure there's one out there that could fit your needs.”

“I still don't think I could go; my dad wants to…keep me close…” he muttered. `Because there's nothing like a hunk of your taxes being cut off because you have a dependent,' he thought bitterly.

“Keep you close? How long does he plan on doing that?”

“I don't know…”

“He can't very well keep you locked up in his house past eighteen,” she commented. Inuyasha shot her a look over his shoulder. She was still innocently chopping chicken, not looking at him, a slight frown on her face. Why did he get the distinct feeling that Mrs. Higurashi was…digging for something?

“I guess not…” Mrs. Higurashi retrieved the wok he'd just washed and dumped the chopped food from the cutting board into it, adding a few seasonings and oils. She turned the stove on beside him and set the wok onto the burner.

“Just…be aware, Inuyasha. Now, I'm not saying that you should go against your father's wishes. He is your father and guardian, and I have no right to do that, and I certainly have no say in the matter. But…just a bit of advice for life? Be aware of the people that want to hinder you and those that want to help you. You need to be able to discern between people what want to hold you back and people that care for you and want you to reach your full potential. Especially when you have so much of it,” Mrs. Higurashi said quietly, stirring her dish with a spatula.

Inuyasha stared openly at the side of her face. A slight frown tugged the corners of her mouth downward, and her brows creased in…something. Inuyasha frowned as well. Was Kagome one of those girls who told their mothers everything? He had to wonder…Mrs. Higurashi was striking chords that were all too deep.

“You'll keep that in mind, won't you, Dear?” she prodded, after his lack of response.

“I…” Inuyasha was at a loss for words. Did she know? Had Kagome told?

“Even family members can harbor ill will, Inuyasha.”

“Y-yeah…I-I know…I'll k-keep that in mind,” he managed to get out.

“You must miss her very much, Sweetheart,” Mrs. Higurashi said quietly after a while. “Your mother,” she supplied needlessly. Inuyasha swallowed thickly.

“Y-yeah…”

“I can imagine. I remember how absolutely distraught we were when we lost my husband…It was horrible. Your father must have been in absolute shambles,” she guessed. Inuyasha bit his lip and shrugged.

“He wasn't around then,” he said briefly. `Kami, what's with the third-degree?' he wondered. He didn't want to snap at Kagome's mother; she was so sweet to him. But he got the distinct feeling that she was interrogating him…albeit, in a very nice, kind manner…

“Ah…I see,” Mrs. Higurashi murmured. Bit by bit, she was building Inuyasha's apparently tragic history in her mind. Despite the fact that he was over half a foot taller than herself and several times stronger, he was still so obviously a lost young boy; his constant eagerness to surround himself with her family, courtesy of her daughter showed that much. He absolutely broke her heart.

Eyeing him surreptitiously out of the corner of her eye, she took in his appearance. She could see no evidence of abuse on his person; there was no bruising on his face or scarring on his hands. But she was not so foolish to believe that those were the only areas where he could be hurt. His shabby dress told her that he was obviously not well cared for. The baggy sweatshirt that was his usual sported several holes of various shapes and sizes, and was quite tattered at the cuffs. She made a mental note to offer to mend it for him, and wondered why he neglected to wear the one the kids had gotten him for his birthday.

His long white hair hung limply from his head, its shade almost perfectly matched with the pallid color of his skin, and she wondered about the quality of nourishment the boy was getting at home. Adding to her increasingly long list of mental notes, she silently made him a promise that he would always receive nutritious meals while he was at her home.

“I remember that when my husband died, I didn't know what to do with myself,” she told him softly, adding a bit of oil to her dish. She didn't often talk about Minowa's death with anyone outside of her children and her father. But she knew that in order to get something, you had to give something. She had no doubt that it would be the same in the case of making Inuyasha more comfortable around her. “It took quite some time for us all to get back to normal without him.”

“How…how did Kagome and Souta…you know…take it?”

“Well Souta was only three at the time. He doesn't really remember much of what happened. But Kagome was twelve, and she took it very hard. She and her father were so very close.”

“Do they ever…um…talk—well…actually, never mind,” he muttered embarrassedly.

“Do they ever what?” she prodded gently. “Talk to him? Give him an update?” Inuyasha nodded mutely. “Of course. It doesn't ever hurt to keep him abreast of what's going on with us. It's almost therapeutic to do so.”

“So…it's not…weird…if I still talk to my mom?” he almost whispered. He kept his occasional trips to the cemetery a secret from everyone, even Kagome. Before he'd met her, his one-sided conversations with his mother's gravestone had been all the social life he'd had; he didn't want Kagome to think him pathetic.

“Of course it isn't, Sweetheart,” she said kindly. She placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle pat. “I'm sure she would be very proud of you. You're the type of young man that would make a mother proud.”

“I'm back! Kami, Mom, do you know how hard it was to find those radishes you wanted? It was ridiculous! Hey, Inuyasha!” Kagome greeted cheerily, setting the bags of groceries atop the kitchen table. For once, Inuyasha's attention was not immediately captured by the lively girl that entered the room, as he was still stuck on Mrs. Higurashi's kind words. She'd unwittingly, or perhaps wittingly, eased a sore spot that he'd had: that he wouldn't live up to his mother's unspoken expectations. The long harbored fears that he would be inadequate, that he would dishonor his mother and disgrace her name in any number of ways were called into question with the older woman's gentle reassurances. He smiled weakly. Perhaps…perhaps if Mrs. Higurashi didn't think he was a failure, and the rest of her wonderfully accepting family didn't think he was a failure…then perhaps he could begin to believe it himself.

“Kagome, Sweetie, don't worry about those groceries. I'll put them away. You and Inuyasha go and have a good time,” she urged, pushing her daughter's hands away from the plastic bags.

“Okay, Mom…if you're sure.”

“I'm sure. Go on, get out and have some fun,” she instructed as she shooed them out of the door.

“Thank you, Mrs. Higurashi,” Inuyasha murmured quietly from the stoop, so low that Kagome couldn't hear.

“You're quite welcome, Honey,” she replied with a warm smile, an affectionate hand running through his hair.

As she watched the pair descend the shrine stairs, she could only hope and pray that the boy who'd come to fit so securely into their family would realize where his true home should lie. She was no fool. She knew that it would most likely be quite the difficult adjustment. She knew the massive amounts of red tape and complicated legalities that she would have to go through to legally take Inuyasha into her custody.

But she also knew how close her daughter had grown to the boy. She knew that the feeling was mutual. She knew just how desperate he was for acceptance, love, and guidance. She knew to some extent of the atrocities that were committed against him, and she certainly knew how he'd managed to retain a certain innocence and sweetness about him even in the face of such adversity. There was no way in the world that she could knowingly deny a child a safe haven. And so, when he finally relented, she would offer hers to him.

“Inuyasha! Have you seen this?” Kagome blurted loudly from the computer desk. Across the room, Inuyasha idly flipped through the pages of the literary terms book that Kagome had been making him practice with, eyeing the lines with distaste.

“See what?”

“This link I sent you.”

“You sent me a link?”

“Yeah, like days ago.”

“Oh.”

“Haven't you checked your email?”

“Honestly? I haven't even looked at that thing since you got back from your grandmother's house.”

“Inuyasha, that was like a month ago,” Kagome said flatly.

“You're back. No need for it now.” Kagome smiled inwardly and continued to scroll through the website.

“Well, anyway, come here, I want you to see this,” she urged, beckoning him over. He sighed and heaved himself off of the couch, leaning over her shoulder to read the website's title.

“`Renaissance Youth Art Competition, sponsored by Goro Oichi,'” Kagome read aloud. A slender finger pointed at the screen animatedly as she continued. “`Young people, ages fourteen to nineteen are encouraged to compete in this prestigious competition that has maintained a proud history for over fifty-seven years, and has made Tokyo University a cornerstone of the artistic community, attracting only the top young people to the campus. Come one, come all and display your talents…' Inuyasha, look!” she exclaimed, jabbing a finger at the corner of the screen. “`Grand prize: A full scholarship to Tokyo University'!”

“Great,” he mumbled, without much enthusiasm. Kagome looked over her shoulder and frowned.

“What's with the sarcasm? Look at this—the grand prize is a full scholarship, room, board, tuition, books, everything is paid for! But look, even the other prizes are pretty damn good!” she said excitedly. Kagome ticked off the numerous prizes, the obscene amounts of money, and not to mention the connections that he could possible win with much excitement, her pretty face lighting up as she related all of this to him. Inuyasha listened without interruption.

“Inuyasha, you should enter. I really think you could win this. You're so talented; you've got a great shot—”

“No, I don't.”

“What do you mean? Of course you do. Inuyasha, you're paintings are the best I've seen. You could totally win this thing. And think about what it could do for you future! You'd have a scholarship to university for doing what you love, art. You'd be free from…you know. You'd have a chance for a really good life, Inuyasha,” she insisted, her arguments making quite the compelling case.

“Yeah, but…”

“But what? Remember all that stuff you were saying a while back? About not being able to afford college? Well, here's a chance for you to go without having to pay anything! It's perfect!”

“I couldn't enter, though,” he said softly, looking down at his hands.

“Why not?”

“I'll give you five reasons. Two of them are on top of my fucking head,” he said in a deadpan voice. Kagome's frown deepened.

“Are you saying that you wouldn't be able to enter because you're half-demon?” she asked quietly.

“What else would I be saying?” he spat.

“That's stupid.”

“Well, it's been established. Believe me, I've told myself that lots of times, but it doesn't change the fact that I still can't—”

“Of course you can enter.”

“No, Kagome, I really can't—”

“I'm looking at the rules and regulations,” she said, scrolling down the list of numbered items. “Nowhere in here does it say that hanyous are not allowed to compete.”

“That doesn't matter—”

“Of course it does. The rules say that you have to be no younger than fourteen, no older than nineteen, still in high school, and have a desire to pursue art. All of those things apply to you, don't they?”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“Then it should be settled. Inuyasha, you're so good—”

“I can't, Kagome!”

“It doesn't say `no hanyous', Inuyasha!” she argued back hotly.

“It doesn't say `no dolphins' either, but it's fucking understood!” he shouted. She glared at him, giving him that `you know what I mean' look. “It would be a waste of time,” he said, lowering his volume, “for me to even consider entering.”

“How do you know unless you try?”

“Kagome…” he started, feeling that frustration welling within him again. He sighed. “Just…just trust me…it'd be a waste of time.” Kagome studied him hard for a long moment.

“So. You don't want to enter your work?” she asked quietly.

“No, I don't want to enter my work,” he said firmly. She narrowed her eyes at him and bit the inside of her cheek.

“Fine, then. I won't ask you anymore. I'll respect your wishes,” she said simply, and turned back to her computer screen.

“Fine. Thank you,” he drawled sarcastically. When she didn't respond, he got a bit edgy and fidgety. “Hey…hey, Kagome…you…you're not mad at me…are you?” he asked nervously. The last thing he wanted was for her to be upset with him; he tried his best to avoid it always.

“No, Inuyasha, I'm not mad.”

“You sure?”

“Of course I'm sure. I'm not mad at you, really,” she assured him, sending him a smile. She truly hadn't gotten angry..

She had formulated a plan.

In order to advance to the next stage of the competition, a photograph of one of the participant's pieces had to be sent in for judging, and if that piece was deemed worthy, the participant could look forward to the next round.

True, Inuyasha had said that he did not want to enter his work.

But he hadn't said that she couldn't do it for him.

Author's Note: Hope you enjoyed! Review me!

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