InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Two Colour Palette ❯ Dream: Decisions and Daytrips ( Chapter 2 )

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

Disclaimer: Inuyasha belongs to Rumiko Takahashi, I'm only playing in the sandbox.

Thanks to everyone who read the last installment! :D -hugs-

Decisions and Daytrips

When she gets home, Kagome resorts to pacing.

Slippers on, hair still wet from the shower, she stalks across the carpet - and worries. Her schoolwork sits in a neat pile on her desk; she barely spares it a glance, because she's too busy sifting through all the possibilities, spinning around in a mad merry dance inside her head.

It's enough to make her dizzy, even when she isn't moving.

Because someone - that artist, that random, human(-looking) artist - knows about youkai. And with enough detail to reproduce nearly perfect images of the Feudal Era; so, so familiar to her, but totally alien to this modern city of metal and movement. Even the dogs, the painting of the inuyoukai...

'They were so accurate... Not a hair out of place, and I should know. Nearly getting melted by an angry Western Lord definitely counts for something. Now that was an experience I never expected to help me in the modern world...'

Kagome feels the frown beginning to crease her face and smoothes it away with a hand, flopping back on her bed and shutting her eyes.

'Maybe he just happens to have a good education, or an interest in mythology... or maybe... maybe he's a youkai himself...'

She doesn't linger on the reasons for too long, because the hazy implications (and risks) of youkai in the future are huge. Limitless. And really, really insane. She's never sensed any youki before, and... this is giving her a headache.

If only Eri hadn't chosen to go present shopping after school - she wouldn't even be in this mess!

"Urgh."

The urge to jump through the well, run back to Inuyasha and her friends and simply ignore the horrible, flashing red warning sign jumping around gleefully in her brain is very, very strong. And tempting. Because it would be so much easier to run away.

'Kikyou wouldn't run away...' whispers that little voice of inadequacy, poking her straight in the conscience, the pride and the bruised heart, one after the other until she's scrubbing her face with her hands, an exasperated groan breaking the quiet.

"Why me?"

"... Kagome?"

A voice comes from outside her room and she sits up in one movement, pasting a smile on her face in anticipation of the door opening. It does, and Mama peers in, blue eyes curious. Kagome watches them rove over the abandoned homework, the depressions of her feet in the carpet and, finally, the lines that she knows sit on her cheekbones like bruises, indigo shadows over pale skin.

Yes, she's tired. Stress and high school and dealing with an overbearing inu-hanyou tends to have that effect on people. Plus unexpected connections to the Feudal Era, where, by all rights and laws of reality and the universe and stuff, there really shouldn't be any connections at all. Like in art galleries.

Clearly, her mother doesn't know these things, and so has no hope of fathoming what is wrong with her overwrought daughter. Not for lack of trying, though, because Kagome can nearly see the wheels turning in Mama's quick mind, trying to add up the impossible equation: taking one plus one plus one, and eventually coming to four.

She watches the expected answer rise like the sun across her face, and tries not to sigh.

Because after all the years of tears and heartache, his name may as well be tattooed in red across her forehead, complete with puppy ears and a miniature Tetsusaiga, whenever she's upset, or stressed, or even remotely negative in any way, shape or form. She almost expects the 'ding ding ding!' of a winners bell and a mountain of gold coins, falling from the ceiling in a shower of wrong assumptions.

So to prevent the inevitable, she interrupts before her mother has the chance to open her mouth.

"Mama, I'm not worrying about Inuyasha."

An eyebrow raises - only a little, but enough to move her on to the defensive. She sets her jaw, jutting out her chin in a defiant line.

"It's been a long time, and I'm used to being just friends, so..." She trails off, unsure and unable to find the words to define her relationship with the hanyou, when it has been left without definition for so long.

But really, there's no need, because the ever omniscient Higurashi mother sees, accepts and understands, without asking any questions. Well. Except one.

"Do you want to talk about it, dear?"

Watching the way Mama's face crinkles in concern, she shakes her head, sending errant drops of water scattering from her hair to cover the quilted bedspread. In the space between the question and the answer, a light-bulb clicks on in her brain, and she comes to a decision about her little 'painting problem' before she even realises it.

"No, Mama, it's fine. Just tell Souta and Jii-chan that I'm... going out tomorrow. To an art gallery. I'll be back in time for dinner, but then I have to go back through the well or Inuyasha will throw a strop."

The words come easily as the idea blooms into a solid plan, and her thin smile turns into one of genuine happiness. A simple solution, no hardship - except having to potentially deal with an irritated hanyou, demanding she return to the past on time, tomorrow morning, without fail.

... But if she pays a second visit to the gallery, she can try and find out more about this artist - Shu Nishimoto? Yes, that's his name. Her nose wrinkles again.

Decisions, decisions... but really, there isn't even one to make.

After all, there's always the rosary beads.

Mama still looks doubtful, but subsides.

"All right. Be careful."

She leaves quietly with a gentle brush of perfume in the still, warm air, and Kagome sits at her desk, shuffling her books like half-formed explanations, picking one out and weighing it absently in her hands.

"I'll find out." she murmurs to the silence, turning to watch the branches of the God Tree sway through her window. "I'll find out why he knows so much."

Decided, she stands, going to the wardrobe to pick out her outfit for tomorrow.

Just because she was distracted by paintings of the past doesn't mean she didn't notice how hot the artist was.

&&&

The next morning - a Saturday - dawns dry and bright, and Kagome leaves the house as soon as it's early enough for the gallery to be open. Never mind that Inuyasha is supposed to be coming through the well to take her back today - she thinks that paintings depicting very detailed, very specific scenes only found in Feudal Japan are a good enough reason to be late.

Not that he'll accept that excuse with any less annoyance than her need to see her family and pass high school. She isn't even sure what to tell him yet.

'"Oh, Inuyasha, by the way, do you know there's this guy in the future who happens to know about Feudal Japan in ways that modern history doesn't even cover? Y'know, the little things like youkai, and what they look like?" Yeah, Kagome, that would go absolutely brilliantly. Maybe I should just keep quiet...'

The pavement is warm beneath her feet, cars sweeping down the road one after the other as she walks along the few turns leading to the innocuous art gallery. It doesn't take her long to reach it - the area isn't close enough to the city centre to be manic, but the streets are still bustling, Saturday shoppers looking for deals in the smaller shops and supermarkets.

The other thing that hits her is the greenery - she's surprised she didn't notice it the day before, because it's definitely very, very, green. There are trees lining the path at intervals, and as she turns the corner into an open square, she sees a swathe of grass planted in the centre of the enclosed space. And in the middle of the grass is what looks like a stylised sculpture of a torii gate, large, red and curling at the edges.

It's beautiful, and as she looks beyond the waving trees to the front of the gallery, sitting serene on the junction of the square and the main road, she wonders if the gate is a Shu Nishimoto piece as well.

She wouldn't be surprised in the slightest.

The grass looks so inviting in the morning sun, and she makes a note to buy a drink and examine the sculpture more closely when she has a chance - for now, she has some snooping to do.

She crosses the square in easy strides, stopping outside the innocent-looking door. Kagome hesitates halfway to the handle, fingers curling into her palm and lips pursing. But eventually, determination and the Higurashi stubborn streak both make themselves known, and she straightens her spine, opening the door and walking in. The pleasant jingle of metal chimes echo quietly in the expanse of space.

The gallery is large, white and empty. Not of art - there's no shortage of that, with paintings hanging from glass screens in corners and in every available open space - but definitely no sign of life. There's no-one behind the desk, and certainly no sightings of the mysterious Shu Nishimoto.

Fidgeting in her sandals, she takes the opportunity while she can and goes to have a closer look at the paintings of Feudal Japan. She wasn't able to examine them closely with her friends flanking her, and she needs to know just how much he knows.

And she's interested. Because the art is wonderful, all delicate swirls and bold strokes, something even she can appreciate. She walks over to a pastoral sketch, of rolling hills and trees... and a very, very familiar well.

"Oh..."

A shudder skirts down her back, and she swallows and moves on, not wanting to think about the possibility of him knowing something, anything about the well, or time-travelling, or anything remotely to do with her misadventures.

Kagome's fingers twitch as she spots the small oil of two inuyoukai, wanting to reach and brush against the surface just to check they aren't about to jump out and bite her. Peering closer, she squints, taking in the fine detail of the fur, panning over the long ears and flowing mane, and the purple crescent moon between the eyes...

... the purple crescent moon?

'Oh my freakin' god, is that Sesshoumaru??'

"Are you looking to buy?"

The calm voice comes from her right, and she starts, turning wide eyes to face her unexpected companion. Shu Nishimoto is inches away and looking exactly the same as he did yesterday when she saw him sat behind the desk - dark, short hair, brown eyes, elegant. Artistic. Close up, he's almost overpowering, and his gaze seems endless.

But he came from nowhere, and she didn't hear anything as he moved into the room. Suspicion twitches, though when she tries to use her miko powers to search for youki, there's nothing.

One theory shot down, then. Some of the hope and worry eases its way off her chest.

He raises an eyebrow at her, and she remembers that she's supposed to say something now, as you're meant to do in a normal conversation. Although to her, this is anything but normal.

"Oh! Nishimoto-san! Er- no, I'm not. Just looking - I came here with my friends yesterday, and I thought the pictures were beautiful."

It's surprisingly truthful - she was expecting to have to lie through her teeth, but now that she's confronted with the paintings and his inquisitive gaze, it seems so much harder than it was in her room, practicing her poker face in the mirror.

He smiles, a little bemused, but his eyes are measuring, calculating, and though it should be unnerving, it isn't.

"Shu is fine. And thank you. It's always nice to have work appreciated by visitors."

She thinks she hears something odd in his voice, lingering on the vowels or the last few words, some deeper meaning beyond her understanding - but she doesn't question it, instead considering the art and how to phrase her next comment to get a much information as she can.

"Is there anything that inspires them? Stories, myths, maybe... because they seem like they're mythological." She nods at the painting of the inuyoukai, trying to sounds nonchalant and relaxed. "Demons?"

He seems amused. "Youkai. Yes, very astute of you, Miss...?"

"Higurashi. Kagome Higurashi."

"The ideas come from dreams, and a little from myth and history, Higurashi-san." He pauses for a moment, considering her beneath his dark bangs. "...you seem quite interested in the paintings, so why don't we discuss these stories over a cup of tea? I was making one in my studio upstairs to bring down here, and there's definitely enough for two."

Time spent with Miroku has sharpened her perv-o-meter, and based on her earlier experiences with lecherous monks and, on occasion, village headmen, this does seem like a genuine offer. And it is an opportunity to find out more - because yes, she is curious, despite her worry over his knowledge of the past.

He tilts his head, waiting for an answer.

And eventually, she nods, and he smiles.

"I'll go and get some mugs. Pull up a chair, Higurashi-san, I shouldn't be long."

&&&

Written for Set 1, Prompt 2, Dream, at LJ comm iy_no_kakera. Un-beta'd. Thanks for reading, and reviews are appreciated!