InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Sweetest Escape ❯ A Myriad of Eyes ( Chapter 19 )

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

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

Author's Note: I'm so glad to see that everyone enjoyed that last chapter. I enjoyed writing it.

Now to destroy it all.

JUST KIDDING! Okay…maybe I might ruin it a little…heh heh?

Chapter 19: A Myriad of Eyes

It was with a confident air and a perked up little half smile that Inuyasha knocked on the door of the Higurashi residence the following Monday. He adjusted his book bag on his back as he waited, excited at the prospect of seeing his sanity after so long of a hiatus. It had been a rough weekend after he'd gotten home after the momentous evening, and he hadn't been able to sneak away again to get his breath of fresh air. To see her again this morning would be a much needed reward.

The door creaked open, and the puff of warm air sent a myriad of inviting scents his way. His smile widened fractionally at the sight of the girl who answered said door, still wearing her pajama top and slippers, despite the fact that their normal departure time was a mere ten minutes away. She beamed at him.

“Good morning,” she greeted cheerfully.

“Hi.”

“I know I'm late,” she began, standing aside so that he could enter the warm house. “But…I have a really, really good reason,” she said quickly. Inuyasha dropped his bag by the wall and removed his shoes, as they would obviously be held up for a while longer. Not that it mattered to him; time spent away from school was time well spent in his opinion.

“It's fine with me,” he shrugged, leaning against the back of the couch as he waved a greeting to Mrs. Higurashi through the doorway of the kitchen.

“Don't you want to hear what it is?” she pressed excitedly. He raised an eyebrow.

“I guess…does it involve me?”

“Of course it does. I wouldn't be wanting you to know so badly if it didn't involve you,” she grinned. Well, now he was intrigued.

“Inuyasha, Dear, would you like a quick breakfast? Since Kagome isn't ready to leave yet, and you'll already be late, you might as well,” Mrs. Higurashi asked, poking her head into the foyer. Kagome nodded her head in the direction of the delicious smells, encouraging him to go ahead.

“Okay, sure. Thank you.”

“It's no problem, Sweetheart.”

“Wait, before you do that,” Kagome said quickly, gripping his sleeve. “Good morning,” she greeted again. She tiptoed up and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his lips and smiled up at him. “That's how you're supposed to greet your girlfriend,” she said matter-of-factly. Inuyasha blushed lightly and nodded, mentally promising her that he'd never make the mistake again.

“Girlfriend?” he asked, awe lacing his voice. She smirked and kissed the tip of his nose, causing his blush to deepen.

“Of course. What'd you think?”

“Well, I mean, I thought so, but…still. Hearing you say it is different,” he mumbled. Steeling his courage, he leaned down and kissed tentatively kissed her lips twice before pulling away.

“You two better get in here before the food gets cold!” Mrs. Higurashi's voice cut through the tender moment. Kagome took his hand as they headed into the kitchen where her mother had already set out dishes of food.

“Kagome, did you tell Inuyasha his good news?” the woman asked as she placed plates in front of the two teens. Inuyasha shot Kagome a questioning look as he spooned some food onto his plate.

“What news?” he asked. Kagome jumped up from the table.

“Nope! Not yet! I was just about to. I'll be right back!” She said excitedly, and dashed out of the room. Inuyasha frowned questioningly at Mrs. Higurashi.

“What is she—”

“How are you this morning, Honey?” Mrs. Higurashi asked pleasantly, in an obvious attempt to throw him off Kagome's trail.

“How come she—”

“Is the food okay?” she cut in.

“Why is Kago—”

“How is school going?” Inuyasha huffed exasperatedly, grouchily, and shoveled a bit of food into his mouth, griping inside. What was so big of a damned secret that he couldn't know? It involved him, didn't it?

“Here it is!” Kagome shouted excitedly, bursting into the kitchen. Her shirt had been put on in obvious haste; she had a pair of socks tucked under her arm, and her ebony hair hung from her head in attractive disarray. She held out a crumpled envelope to Inuyasha, a radiant smile lighting her pretty face. He took it, confused.

“Mail?”

“For you,” she said breathlessly as she seated herself on the floor and pulled the socks onto her feet. Inuyasha checked the address. It was true. The envelope was addressed to him, Inuyasha Chikamatsu.

“At your house? What for?” he asked, puzzled. She pressed her lips together in barely contained mirth and clasped her hands together in clear anticipation.

“Just open it!” she instructed. Inuyasha glanced at Mrs. Higurashi, only to see her beaming at him as well, looking proud of him, as though he'd just been awarded a Nobel Peace Prize. `What is going on here?' he wondered at the women's antics. He moved to slip a claw underneath the seal.

“It's already open,” he remarked.

“I know! I know! I just had to open it! Will you just read the darned letter?” Kagome begged loudly. Inuyasha shrugged and pulled the letter from its envelope, unfolding it quickly. His eyes widened bit by little bit as he read each word, each line.

“You…you…oh, Kami…” he murmured softly. His eyes snapped to Kagome, still seated on the floor, bouncing up and down slightly in her excitement. “How…you…”

“I'm so proud of you, Inuyasha!” she exclaimed, jumping up suddenly. “Aren't you excited?”

“I…I…”

“You're speechless, I know! I was too! But I'm so excited for you!”

“It's quite an accomplishment, Dear,” Mrs. Higurashi added quietly. “That competition doesn't just move anyone on to the second round.”

“Read it out loud! I just want to hear you read it,” Kagome said, settling herself next to him. Inuyasha cleared his throat and shook his head out of its haze, focusing his eyes once more on the tiny print.

“Dear, Mr. Chikamatsu,” he began. “C-c-congratulations. We at the Renaissance Youth Art Competition are pleased to inform you of your…your advancement into the next round of the…of the contest,” he read haltingly. “Competition was fierce, and to have outperformed so many other first-round entrants at this stage is an accomplishment to be truly proud of. The committee was highly impressed by your brilliant use of winter colors and natural lighting to convey such…such deep and tender feelings. We will be honored if you would accept our invitation to be one of the twenty contestants in the final round of the competition…Sincerely, Goro Oichi…” Inuyasha finished in almost a whisper.

“I'm so happy for you, Inuyasha,” Kagome said again, hugging him from the side. He blinked hard and shook his head again.

“I…I can't believe this…” he murmured. “You…you did this,” he accused her softly. She had enough decency to look somewhat guilty…though not too guilty…

“Yeah…And I hope you're not mad—look! You're just as amazing as I told you you are!” she pointed out, poking at a sentence in the letter. “They think you're great too.” Inuyasha smiled and shook his head disbelievingly at the paper, letting out an incredulous breath.

“Yeah…I…I guess so…”

“So you aren't mad at me?” she pushed mischievously. He slanted her a look out of the corner of his eye, his lips lifting in a smile.

“Nah…”

“I knew you wanted to be in that competition,” Kagome said knowingly.

“Well, no kidding. I always wanted to be in it…I just never thought I could get in it…”

Inuyasha stood in front of the rack of paintings, fists planted firmly on his hips as he thoughtfully chewed his lip. On an impulse, he closed his eyes and pulled one from the row, then opened them to regard the choice.

His nose wrinkled in distaste at the portrait. Kikyou's haughty gaze pierced through him from the canvas, her lips twisted into a little smirk. `Definitely not,' he thought darkly, and set the picture aside, labeling the area the `discard' pile. He closed his eyes again and selected another.

He immediately dropped the canvas into the discard pile without a second thought. The angry, sangria-red, intensely burning eyes of his father staring after him, as though challenging him for daring to put his portrait into the discard pile. Inuyasha shivered. Perhaps he was better than he thought, if his own paintings could instill fear in him. His gaze being dragged back to the macabre depiction of the elder demon, Inuyasha huffed and quickly turned it over.

Turning his attention back to the task at hand, he picked another random painting, this time, from the very end of the rack. He sighed despondently at the one he'd inadvertently chosen. It had been so long since he'd seen those eyes, those large, watery, resonant-blue eyes; eyes that undoubtedly held just as much sorrow as his own. Inuyasha leaned against the adjacent wall as he studied the portrait, his brow wrinkling at the image of the young boy. He wondered where he was now, what he was doing, how he was doing.

He would have kept in touch. Unfortunately, it had been impossible to do so.

Inuyasha held his mother's hand in a death grip as they walked the concrete path up to the foreboding school that loomed ahead. He bit his lip agitatedly, and his other hand picked anxiously at the hem of his t-shirt. His mother gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“It'll be alright, Sweetheart,” she said softly. She sounded so sure. Inuyasha wasn't.

“Mommy—” he started as they entered the front office of the school.

“Hello,” his mother greeted the secretary. “I'm Izayoi Chikamatsu. I called earlier this morning to get my son enrolled in your school,” she explained. The woman regarded them coldly over the half-circles of her rimless spectacles, her icy eyes narrowing at the sight of the nervous child that stood next to the human woman. A chill ran through Inuyasha as her upper lip lifted in disgust, revealing a sharp, blood-red fang. She was a demon, that much he knew. What kind however, escaped him. He whimpered and ducked behind his mother's leg. She petted his head gently, comforting him.

He didn't listen to the rest of the exchange, as his attention was promptly caught by the variety of people that paraded through the doors of the office. He'd never been around other demons; this would be his first demon school. And so, he'd never truly realized how many types of demons there were; his eyes widened at the assortment of colors, sizes and shapes their features came in. In the time that he stood there behind the protection of his mother's leg, he swore he didn't see any one demon that looked like another.

“Come on, Inuyasha. Time to take you to class,” his mother cooed, taking his hand once more.

They walked the brightly colored hallways hand in hand, and as they did, Izayoi tried to ease him into the idea of attending a demon school.

“Oh, Sweetheart…we've talked about this, remember, Baby?” she asked softly as he voiced his fear again. “It's worth a try, right? To get to know some other demons?”

“I guess so…” Inuyasha mumbled. First grade hadn't gone too well for him at a human school. It was at the end of that school year that he was all too aware that there was something distinctly odd about him other than his ears, eyes and hair; something big that separated him from the rest of the boys and girls in his class. He'd been supplied with a vast repertoire of words for that difference, making his vocabulary quite extensive for a seven year-old: abomination, devil's spawn, immoral, abhorrence, half-breed…Yes, by the end of first grade, Inuyasha was quite aware of how society viewed him.

That was why his mother thought it a good idea to try a demon school for her son. She supposed that if humans didn't accept him, surely demons would. Surely they would accept one of their own, right? Surely they couldn't be as cruel as the humans had been?

Izayoi knew she was grasping at straws; she knew that the chance of demons at this school or any school, elementary, middle school or high school accepting her son were slim to none. But she was desperate. She was willing to try anything to wipe the brokenhearted, disconsolate look off of her baby's face; the one that appeared everyday after school, every time he was called a name, every time he was irreparably hurt.

Tai's words had resounded relentlessly in her head even as she called the school.

“It would be a half breed, Izayoi! Nothing more! No one would want it—”

She'd shaken those thoughts loose. She couldn't allow bad memories to stop her from trying to make life better for her son.

“Okay, then,” she said, offering him a reassuring smile as they reached his assigned classroom. She crouched to be at eye-level with him. His head hung low as he stared at the ground. Curling a finger under his chin, she raised his face until he looked doubtfully at her. “Inuyasha. Baby, smile.” She kissed his cheek. “Come on, Honey, be brave.”

“I don't wanna go to school anymore, Mama,” he said fearfully, shaking his head. Izayoi lightly cupped his face between her palms.

“You have to, Sweetie. It'll be alright—you'll do great, I know it,” she assured him. He swallowed hard and took a deep breath. “I love you, Baby,” she told him. She brushed his bangs away from his forehead and pressed a kiss there. He wrapped his arms tightly around her neck in a fierce hug before she could get away.

“Love you too,” he whispered. After a good long while, he let her go, and she stroked his hair once more before departing.

Inuyasha stood alone in the hallway until he could no longer hear her footsteps. Turning to the suddenly intimidating door, decoratively adorned with colorful handprints, Inuyasha turned the handle and entered.

The room, at first bustling and alive with activity, died down no sooner than Inuyasha had taken three steps into it. He averted his eyes from the other children's probing gazes, and shuffled to the closest empty chair at the round tables. He sat down heavily, wishing he could just disappear. He shut his eyes painfully as he felt, more than saw, the other children shift their chairs away from him.

“He smells like human,” one girl whispered loudly.

“He was just with a human,” another responded.

“I know that, Ichigo!” the first girl said indignantly. “But he smells like human. You can't smell that `cause your only a wimpy pheasant youkai, and you can't hardly smell anything,” she taunted, sticking her tongue out for emphasis. Ichigo crossed her stick-thin arms, the ridge of brown and red feathers that lined them puffing up a bit in her annoyance.

“So?” she drawled, offended.

“He smells like the other one,” a boy cut in. Inuyasha looked up, as the voice that was uncomfortably close. A thicker boy, shaggy with hair that grew in thick clumps towered over him, his tiny eyes peering curiously at Inuyasha. Fat fingers darted forward to pinch a tender ear between their tips and twist. Inuyasha yelped sharply and jumped up from his seat.

“Stop it!” he shouted angrily. His pain intensified for the split second it took to wrench the sensitive ear out of the boy's firm grip. It was only then that Inuyasha truly realized just how large the boy was. His eyes traveled from the boy's dirty, untied sneakers, up the length of his grubby jeans, up the expanse of his smudged shirt and finally to his soiled face.

“What're you lookin' at?” the large boy sneered. Inuyasha gulped.

“I…don't—” The boy snatched Inuyasha's bag from the table and threw it a few feet away.

“Get outta my seat,” he said flatly, and promptly sat down. Inuyasha stood uselessly by for a few shocked moments before he resignedly went to retrieve his thrown bag.

Gripping the bag in his hands, he stood in the center of the classroom alone, wondering what his next move should be. He spied the teacher, elusive up until that point, at her desk towards the rear of the room and moved to ask her what to do when a hand encircled his upper arm. Seized with fear and praying to Kami that what ever was holding him wouldn't hurt him, he was whirled around and yanked forward.

“Ah—!”

“Shh!” came the whispered command. “You don't wanna talk to her,” said the voice warningly. “She'll hurt you.”

`You'll hurt me!' he thought frantically, tugging at the boy's grip on him.

Inuyasha couldn't say a word as he looked up into the face of an even bigger demon than the boy who had just accosted him. Inuyasha had always been small for his age; he'd been smaller in stature compared to even his human classmates. At this school, that difference was even more exaggerated; the students at this school could undoubtedly inflict more damage upon his person. This he was sure of. His little heart was beating a mile a minute, and he felt rather shaky.

“Let me go!” he exclaimed frightfully.

“Don't go to Miss. She'll hurt you,” the demon repeated. He released Inuyasha's arm, and the boy was tempted to do just the opposite of his instructions and run to the woman. He would have, if the scary demon hadn't looked like he had…

He was hunched over, bent as though he were perpetually carrying a heavy load. His long, thin arms hung to the floor, his knuckles scraped the ground just between his feet. The tawny skin that covered him looked leathery and thick, and from the crown of his head sprouted coarse-looking bristles of jet black hair. To Inuyasha, his bulbous eyes looked like blue Jell-o, and his mouth, which didn't look capable of emitting any sounds similar to proper Japanese, only had about four teeth from what he could see. Had he been less intriguing to look at, Inuyasha might have done an about face and went straight for the teacher's desk. Well. Now his curiosity was peaked.

“Why…why will she hurt me?” he asked hesitantly. The demon shifted a bit, and scratched his bristly head with long, clawed fingers.

“You're a half demon, right?” he asked. Inuyasha nodded self-consciously. “Miss doesn't like half-demons. She'll beat you if you talk to her. See?” The demon rolled up the cuff of his pant leg and showed Inuyasha what was left of a deep scar. “I don't talk to her anymore. She leaves me alone now.” Inuyasha's eyes popped open wide.

“You're a half demon?” he asked incredulously. The boy nodded. Inuyasha couldn't stop himself from staring openly, his mouth dropping in surprise. “How old are you?”

“Seven,” he answered defensively, pencil-thin eyebrows crinkling. “How old are you?” he shot back.

“Seven, but…” Inuyasha squinted at him. “But…you're so…big…You're even bigger than that other boy…”

“Yuuta?” he asked. “He's strong. I may be bigger than him, but he's very, very strong. He's a bear youkai. I would stay away from him if I were you,” he warned.

“Okay,” Inuyasha agreed. This boy seemed to know his way around the school. It couldn't hurt to take his advice.

“You shouldn't let your mom walk you to class anymore,” he added, as though he could hear Inuyasha's thoughts.

“Huh? Why not?”

“They don't like humans here. They might hurt your mom if she comes in again.”

“How come there are so many people that will hurt me or my mom?” Inuyasha pouted.

“You haven't been around many demons before, have you?” Inuyasha shook his head. The odd mouth twisted into a strange sort of smile. The boy was eyeing him with pupiless eyes, and it made Inuyasha a bit uncomfortable.

“That's okay…you wanna be friends?”

“…really?” The boy nodded. “I never had one before,” Inuyasha admitted.

“Me neither.”

“Well, then…o-okay. Sure,” he answered uncertainly.

“Okay! You can come sit with me!” he said excitedly, leading Inuyasha to the table in the furthest corner of the room, where he obviously sat alone.

“My name's Inuyasha. What's yours?”

“I'm Jinenji.”

“Mom! Mom!” Inuyasha called, jumping up from the step he'd been sharing with Jinenji after school had let out.

“Well, it looks like someone had a good day,” the woman beamed at him, holding her arms out for a hug. Inuyasha embraced her briefly before gripping three of her fingers in his own and dragging her to the step where Jinenji still sat.

“Mom, look! I've got a friend!” he announced proudly, pointing to the other boy. Izayoi chuckled and shook her head.

“Well, hello there,” she greeted the other child with a smile.

“Hi,” Jinenji said shyly.

“He's a half-demon like me, Mom!” Inuyasha interjected.

“Is that so?” Internally, Izayoi congratulated herself on finally having done something beneficial for her son besides simply the basics. `He's finally got a friend,' she thought with relief.

“Jinenji!” a voice cut sharply through the air. A slight woman came running towards them, her hand raised. “Leave him alone! He's just a boy—”

“Mom!” Jinenji whined.

“We don't want any trouble from you folks—”

“Oh, no, no, no, I think you've misread the situation,” Izayoi said calmly, shaking her head. “We don't want any trouble either. You see, our sons have formed something of a friendship here, and I—”

“Friendship? Jinenji doesn't have any friends,” the woman said bluntly.

“I do now, Momma!” he spoke up, pointing to Inuyasha. Izayoi smiled warmly at the other woman.

“Yes. I'm Izayoi, and this is my son, Inuyasha. He was just introducing me to his new friend here,” she explained. “It's so hard for him to make friends; I was thinking that perhaps this is something worth pursuing. What do you think? Perhaps we could set up a few play dates and make this a regular thing, since the boys seem so fond of each other already,” Izayoi suggested. The woman eyed her with open disdain and obvious suspicion.

“Why? Why would your son want to be friends with my son?” Izayoi was caught off guard.

“Well…I…I suppose they've struck upon common ground, both of them being half demons and all…but I think you'd have to ask them—”

“Half demon? Your son is a half demon?” she echoed incredulously.

“Yes,” Izayoi said hesitantly. She and Inuyasha exchanged curious glances; why was this woman so incredibly gruff?

“Hm. Well. How very odd. He doesn't look like one,” she said curtly, eyeing Inuyasha coldly.

“Well he is,” Izayoi responded, just as curtly. She bristled. “I'm sorry, is there a problem?”

“No. No problem. No problem at all,” she answered, snappily. She shook her head, as if to clear it out of a daze. “When did you want to set up those play dates?”

“…How about this Friday? We can meet at the park by Eto Boulevard? Around four o'clock?”

“Fine.” The woman grabbed Jinenji's hand firmly and began to walk briskly away.

“I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name?” Izayoi called after her.

“Zakuro,” she said offhandedly over her shoulder. She didn't look back as she dragged her son behind her to the car.

It had gone fairly well. He and Jinenji had become fast friends. But then, he supposed it was easy to do so when they were each other's only option for companionship. Inuyasha had later on hoped that perhaps even his mother, too, could gain a friendship out of the deal; she so rarely got the chance to talk to other women her age. She rarely got to talk to anyone her age. She was lonely, and though he was quite young, he could see that clearly.

Jinenji's mother made it quite clear, however, that she wanted as little to do with them as possible. Outside of Jinenji and Inuyasha's play dates, she was nowhere to be seen. Even then, she seemed to make every effort and give any excuse to keep them apart as much as she could. Izayoi and Inuyasha, puzzled over her behavior, only discovered the honest truth after a horrific accident.

The odd smells of the hospital made him sneeze. There were so many scents; scents from sick people, their bodily fluids, and sterilizer. His mother held his hand tightly and kept him close as she led him through the dizzyingly white corridors, left, right, left, and right again.

“Inuyasha…now…keep in mind…Jinenji might look very different than what you're used to, Sweetheart. Okay? Try to remember that. And he might be sleeping now, so don't be too loud, alright?” Inuyasha nodded his understanding, feeling fearful now. All his mother had told him when they'd left the house was that Jinenji was very sick. She'd said nothing of his appearance. Inuyasha worried. What kind of sickness did he have if it affected his appearance?

The lump on the bed did not stir as they entered. Inuyasha covered his nose with the sleeve of his shirt, an unpleasant metallic-y scent clogging the air. `What is that?' he wondered. The scent was rancid. His mother's hand tightened uncomfortable around his own as they neared the bed.

His mouth fell open, letting loose no sound as his eyes fell upon the person in on the gurney.

That was not Jinenji. It couldn't be Jinenji! Even underneath the shade of his tawny skin, he was deathly pale. Odd-colored purplish-red bruises mottled his face and the bare parts of his arms. Plugs of his hair were missing, and in their absence, raw skin lay exposed. Inuyasha whimpered and hid his face in his mother's side. How had this happened?

“Izayoi!” came a harsh whisper. Their attention was redirected to the corner, where Zakuro stood from the chair where she'd apparently been napping. She threw the blanked she'd been using into the chair with force, and angrily moved toward the woman. “Hallway. Now,” she demanded. Izayoi, torn between sorrow and sympathy for the beaten child on the bed and confusion with the evidently angry woman, allowed herself be dragged from the room, leaving Inuyasha by the bedside.

“Mommy?” he called after her.

“I'll be right back, Sweetheart. Stay here.”

Inuyasha heeded his mother's words…for all of seven seconds. He couldn't help it. He didn't want to stay and stare at Jinenji's bruised and swollen face and smell what had to be the tang of his blood. Besides, the sharp whispers from the hallway drew him to do a bit of eavesdropping.

“I thought you'd have more sense than to bring him!” Zakuro exclaimed angrily, just as Inuyasha poked an ear out of the hospital room.

“Why wouldn't I bring him? He and Jinenji are friends—”

“Your son is the worst thing to ever happen to Jinenji!” Zakuro hissed acidly. Izayoi recoiled in shock.

“How…how can you say that, Zakuro? How in the seven hells can you say something like that?”

“How can you not see that? Can't you see? Everything has gone to hell since you brought your son to that school.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, for Kami's sake, Izayoi. Use your head,” she bit out. “Your son's become the ruin of mine.”

“I don't see—”

“Of course. You wouldn't.” Zakuro sighed heavily and put a hand to her temple wearily. “How do you think that happened to Jinenji anyway? How do you think he ended up like that?”

“I don't—”

“He was attacked, Izayoi! Attacked! By a few demon children a couple of grades ahead. They were absolutely vicious with him.”

“Zakuro…I'm so sorry…I—”

“I don't want, nor do I need your misplaced pity,” she spat. Izayoi's eyes flared angrily and she tensed.

“I don't see what this has to do with Inuyasha.”

“You stupid woman! Are you blind to reality? One half-breed in the school is enough. But two? Everything was thrown off. Obviously two are too much to handle!” she fumed. “He's thrown everything out of order! This whole mess is your fault!”

`My fault?' Inuyasha thought. `But…I didn't want Jinenji hurt!'

“How was I supposed to know that? How can you blame that on Inuyasha? He's only a child! You can't be angry at him for something beyond his control, Zakuro. Your anger is completely misplaced.”

“I think it's very rightly placed—”

“Try being angry with the delinquents that beat him, Zakuro! Don't blame my son!” Izayoi burst out. Zakuro regarded her coldly.

“Don't you dare think that you are in any position to tell me what to do. Don't ever make that mistake. Not when you will never know what I'm going through.”

“You think I of all people don't know what you're going through?” Izayoi laughed incredulously. “Zakuro, Inuyasha is half demon as well. You honestly think I don't know where you're coming from? Please! I've had to clean Inuyasha's cuts many a time as well—”

“I have no doubt that you know what it's like to see your son hurt!” Zakuro exclaimed. “But you will never know this feeling. You will never have to see your son in this bad of a condition! You're more fortunate than you know! At least your half breed was fortunate enough to be born pretty!”

The silence that took place thereafter seemed to stretch into eternity, and Inuyasha held his breath. He could feel his mother's anger.

“Do you hear yourself?” Izayoi started, her voice soft, but unmistakably infuriated. “That is your own son that you just insulted. You…you should consider yourself fortunate that Jinenji is unconscious and couldn't hear what you just said.” She shook her head, giving the other woman a look of cold fury. “You're his mother, and…and if he could depend on anyone to give him encouragement, for Kami's sake it ought to be you! As if being this way isn't difficult enough for them…”

“Don't dare to judge me—”

“I wouldn't waste my time on it, Zakuro,” Izayoi murmured. “I pity the woman who can't see her own son as beautiful,” she whispered.

“This is over, Izayoi. I don't want you or your son around us again. You only make things harder for Jinenji.”

“No, Zakuro, you make things hard for Jinenji,” Izayoi rebutted sadly. “Come on, Inuyasha. We're leaving.” She motioned for his hand without taking her glance away from Zakuro, as though she knew he'd been there all along.

Obediently, he placed his hand in hers, and they left.

He never saw Jinenji again.

Inuyasha reverently slid that portrait back into its place, his thoughts mulling over the half horse demon whose disappearance bugged him even now.

“Hey,” cut a chipper voice through his thoughts. Kagome slid the warehouse door shut behind her. “Did you pick one?”

“Nah,” he muttered. “None of them feel right. None of them feel important enough, you know?”

“What about the one you did of your mom? That one was really good. And important, too.”

“Well…I could, but I did it a while ago, and…well, I think I've gotten better since then,” he mused.

“Why don't you just paint something new?”

“I'm thinking I might have to,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. Kagome pulled a section of hair over his shoulder and began to braid it absently as he thought.

“You could always do a self-portrait,” she suggested. “I don't even think you've ever done one, so it'd be something new and fresh.”

“Kagome, I'm supposed to paint something beautiful,” he responded without thinking. “Something people would like to look at.” Kagome frowned deeply at that.

“I know, that's why I suggested a self-portrait,” she said. Inuyasha smiled down at her at her insinuation. “You're beautiful,” she added softly. “I love looking at you.”

Inuyasha sighed heavily and slid his arms around her waist, her hands now pressed between them, as she'd still been braiding his hair.

“How do you do that, hm?”

“Do what?”

“Turn around everything I say and make it good.”

“Lots and lots of practice,” she grinned up at him. “So…”

“I'm not doing a self-portrait,” he said flatly. Her face fell.

“So what are you gonna do?”

“I dunno…”

“Don't worry. You'll think of something,” she assured him, slipping her arms around his neck. “And whatever you come up with, I'm absolutely positive that Goro Oichi and the judges will adore it,” she said with complete confidence.

Inuyasha nodded slowly, his lips jerking into a small smile at the girl in his arms. He lowered his head impulsively and kissed her, sighing into her as he did so. His lips moved over hers tentatively and questioningly, as he was still learning the ropes. Kagome smiled against him and pressed harder, as she wound the small braid she'd created around her index finger. Inuyasha shivered and hugged her to him tighter, getting lost in the soft feel of her mouth and body pressed against him. A finger on the opposite hand crept up to scratch his ear, and he abruptly ceased his movements, unmoving, yet with his lips still pressed to hers.

He pulled back and gave her a curious look, cocking his head to the right as he studied her with a new type of scrutiny.

“What?” she asked, a curious half-smile played on her face.

“Nothing, I just…” He smiled reflectively. “I know exactly what I'm going to paint,” he said with a touch of pride.

“What?”

“I can't tell you,” he said quickly, and kissed her quickly once more. He pulled away from her embrace and set about to gathering various supplies from the drawers that housed them. “It's a surprise.”

Author's Note:

Sorry if this chapter seems rushed. I had the weekend from HELL, but I still wanted to get out the chapter for you guys.

Anyway.

I've always felt sorry for Jinenji, so I wanted to give him a little attention. I felt so bad for him when his mom insinuated that she thought he was ugly. If anyone should like the way you look, it should be your mom. I wanted to put Shiori in, but…meh, it was kinda awkward in the end.

Is everyone okay with having the art competition for the next chapter? Normally I would space it out a bit, but I'm really excited for that chapter. What do you guys think?

Review!

Wowzer313