InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ When a door closes... ❯ The Binge ( Chapter 11 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Namiyo11 
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Drama / Adventure / Action / Romance | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 04.20.2008 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.7K | Visits: 195 | Status: Completed
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Drama / Adventure / Action / Romance | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 04.20.2008 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.7K | Visits: 195 | Status: Completed
Chapter 11- The Binge
I do not own Inuyasha or related characters.
Recap: The group splits up, Miroku going after the distraught Inuyasha after delaying but not breaking his engagement with Sango, realizing they weren’t yet ready to be together. Sango remains with the heartbroken Kagome. Where did Inuyasha go when he left? How is he taking the breakup? Read on!
“Oh Kami. Not gonna make it,” Inuyasha realized getting to the entrance to the cave wasn’t going to happen just before he puked all over the rough stone floor.
He’d run all night nonstop when he’d left her, heading-he didn’t know where. Somewhere he could forget he’d ever seen her, heard of the jewel, or bothered with people. His feet led him here without a thought after two days of traveling in the old, hated way, avoiding humans and youkai alike, moving fast and staying out of trouble like a good little hanyou.
Now, he was back where he’d lived before he heard about the jewel while scavenging in the lowlands. His current location was in a tiny mountain valley high in the range, with decent hunting access and a hot spring. He’d started fixing up the cave he sprawled in himself long ago when he’d run off from his mother’s family castle as a kid, slowly adding to it as the mood struck over the years. It was how he’d learned to use his claws and built up his strength. At first, it was bearable.
He’d killed the pig youkai who’d moved into his valley while he was gone, moved the bolder he’d blocked off the lair with, and started to refill the stores. A tidy person, even if he didn’t admit it, he cleaned and swept the place out and unpacked everything he’d stored when he left. His stuff was still here, that was a plus. Sorting, setting up and getting the pig smell out of his valley had taken the first week he was back.
Home again.
He clutched the jar and started crying again. The empty storage jar of sake he was embracing was the cause of his current state of heavy inebriation. Swiping it had seemed like a really good idea at the time, along with it’s mostly empty siblings that were scattered across his lair. Glancing around, he sighed heavily and tried to get his unsteady legs under him to clean up the mess. He’d daydreamed over the last three years about bringing Kagome...no. No Kagome! He threw the empty jar across the cave and slumped in misery as it shattered against the rock.
‘The inn probably missed them by now... I’m almost out,’ Inuyasha thought fuzzily as he ripped off the lid of another jar and gulped a good portion of the contents to get the taste out of his mouth. He’d never been a big drinker, not in over two centuries, simply because a hanyou never let their guard down. Not if they wanted to keep breathing. But he didn’t care anymore. He didn’t really eat, he slept when he passed out, and hadn’t bathed in days. A youkai had come through a couple of days ago, and he’d blindly told it to go ahead and eat him. It got a good look, one sniff, and ran the other way.
“Kagome, you bitch! How the fuck could you do this to me?”
Week two had been worse. He’d been able to deal with being alone before. He had his own little kingdom where he was undisputed master of all he surveyed, slaughtering anything that dared try and take it from him. But he’d been miserably lonely then and it was worse now. The jewel...he had to go and decide to try for the jewel all those years ago.
Scheming time traveling bitch! Inuyasha thought he had everything. For a few moments, his life had become perfect, a beautiful mate, a family to come, a place to belong. Poof! All gone. This was supposed to be where he would make a home for her, damn it! He’d shredded several hapless trees and deliberately went looking for fights to work off his frustration. There wasn’t a youkai left alive in the area now except ones passing through.
Days passed. She hadn’t come for him. The monk hadn’t come for him, Sango, even the little kit! They’d all abandoned him, probably were running with Sesshomaru too by now, the bastards. Kagome was probably screwing his brother as he sat there waiting for her to come tell him she’d killed his half brother and was begging for his forgiveness. He’d kept imagining either her holding Sesshomaru’s dripping severed head, or naked with the one armed slime. He kept looking and hoping. No one came as he stewed in self-pity and depression.
Then he’d seen the village. Humans had dared to settle on the lower slopes of his territory! Humans...like she’d been until the wish. Granted, he’d abandoned the area fifty-three years ago, but this was intolerable.
They’d have to pay. He snuck in the first night and stole an armload of crap. He tormented them with thefts, scaring the cattle, anything to piss them off. He dumped the stuff he took in his lair and went to get more, not paying attention to what he stole. Then he actually looked at what he stole. Women’s kimonos. Jewelry. Combs. Cushions. Pretty, girly things. Crap! He’d stolen things for her! DAMN HER!
Inuyasha completely snapped. He started breaking into the larger buildings and saw them the next night. Sake jars. He stole the lot in a fit of depression. It was a pain to shuffle so much of it, but he got it home and started drinking alcohol he wasn’t used to...in very large quantities.
Week three...he remembered vaguely he’d used the Kaze no Kizu on some things...he’d yelled a lot...
Week four was a blur. Except for the youkai. That he remembered. Hadn’t that been his human night? Nah...he’d been chasing that thing for an hour trying to get it to eat him and put him out of his misery, no way he’d have been able to keep up if he’d been human. He drank some more, and groaned.
***
“MONK! Please, you must help us!”
The entire village was gathered around a bewildered Miroku. He’d followed his ofuda spell here, to a tiny but prosperous village set in the foothills, trailing weeks behind Inuyasha. He’d had to deal with several youkai problems and exorcisms en route. They’d ended up delaying him more even as he walked on, hunting the hanyou. Recently though the spell had stayed mostly put in his hand, meaning his quarry had gone to ground at last.
“What troubles you, good people?” Miroku asked, sighing to himself. Another delay.
“A mad youkai torments us! He stole my wife’s clothes!”
“And mine, we dare not leave washing out now!”
“My best cushions!”
“All of the village inn’s sake!”
“My cow! What he did to my prize cow!” The litany went on, and Miroku was alarmed. What sort of apparently male youkai stole women’s clothes, alcohol, and furnishings? This youkai had stolen with good taste from the sound of it, as he was steered to several huts and shown the bare floors, and in one case the mooing victim. Putting up ofuda, he puzzled over the list of items.
“He stole all my towels last week, good monk. What kind of youkai steals towels? He kept screaming horrible things about something called Sampoo. Please, you must exorcize the village! Do not forsake us!”
“He made no sense!” another woman noted. “He yelled at me about having an ex-am! What is it, good monk? Am I accursed?” the young woman who spoke trembled as Miroku blessed her, eyes lighting up. Shampoo? An exam? There was only one youkai in the world who would know what those were. Who’d apparently...completely lost his mind.
‘At least he hasn’t hurt anyone,’ Miroku thought. After all, there hadn’t been one injury in over two weeks of incidents.
“I know this sort of youkai of old,” he said easily, patting a villager on the arm. “I will go and deal with this, and no one is to follow me,” he directed, giving them a few things to do to keep busy. Some chants and incense to offer that wouldn’t hurt anyway, then he made his way into the hills, following the spell.
***
Inuyasha howled. He’d never howled before, but it seemed to work for him. He had to dip farther into the jar now, and he swore as he missed it. He started to slur a century old love song...very loudly.
***
Miroku had found an almost invisible path as he’d climbed up into the hills, eventually going into a tiny hidden canyon that opened into a smallish, sheltered valley. Several scars laced the land, the unmistakable signs of the Kaze no Kizu, and...ok, there were furnishings scattered about, along with most of what had to be the women’s stolen garments and what had been trees.
Horrible noises could faintly be heard as he approached...what the hell had happened here??
Miroku followed the noise to a small cave mouth and peered in, nearly gagging on the smell of old sake and vomit, coupled with...wet dog?
“Inuyasha? It’s Miroku,” he called carefully, breathing through his mouth to avoid the worst of the stench.
“Goway! You aren’ here. Bassars!” a familiar voice yelled. Stepping in and along a small tunnel, he looked around as it opened up. It was...an entryway? Someone had built a rough wall of tightly fitted, peeled logs around the opening of the tunnel, leaving a small space and a doorway. He left his sandals and walked in past a thick curtain into a larger cave, currently furnished in early drunk. Miroku gaped at the creature slumped against the wall, peering at him owlishly.
Bloodshot eyes, circles, and the horrible sight of a filthy, plastered out of his mind Inuyasha greeted him.
‘Great Kami and all the Buddha...she broke him,’ he thought.
“Mir’ko? Siddown, have a drin’,” Inuyasha said, waving a hand and nearly falling over. The monk sighed and left. This was not going to be pleasant. Mushin had been good training for this, he reflected. Waking the drunken Monk had been part of his novice duties.
Miroku returned with one of the biggest unbroken pots Inuyasha had stolen, and found the hanyou was patting the ground in confusion. He was looking for the pair of monks he‘d seen with his double vision.
“My friend, you need help,” the monk said kindly, shaking his head.
“Y’back,” Inuyasha peered up at him.
“Yes. Hold still.” With that, Miroku dumped the cold water he’d fetched over the hanyou.
“AHHH!” he jumped up and yelped, shaking himself-or trying to as he fell over.
“Phew! What have you been drinking? Inuyasha, you need to get cleaned up.”
“Why? Bassar stol ‘er. Mir’ko, he stol ‘er...was mine! Said yesh,” he said mournfully, just laying there, maudlin and teary as only a drunk could be. Soon, a horrible, rumbling snore could be heard.
“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” Miroku sighed and counted the containers as he dragged the pathetic hanyou out of the puddle he‘d passed out in. Figure two weeks from what the villagers had said...if he’d been human, he’d probably have died of alcohol poisoning somewhere around day three.
***
The place amazed the monk. It was a waterless cave, one separated into interconnected rooms by thick, rough log walls and curtained doors. He counted a living room with a cooking alcove, a sleeping room, a storage room and the entryway. There was even a cunning chimney of sorts for a fire. Miroku poked around, fascinated, ignoring the deep rumbling snores echoing from the sleeping room.
He saw bright, delicately embroidered tapestries nailed up on the log walls, scavenged and roughly repaired odds and ends for furnishings, all set out with care and thought under the mess that the drunken inu had left. Clearly, this was where his friend had lived for a long time, perhaps centuries. But, it was the hangings that kept catching his eye. Where had these come from? Everything else looked like the hanyou had made it himself or found it after it had been tossed out by someone else. The workmanship was exquisite, the designs unusual... Miroku poked around some more, and saw-oh my.
He looked in at the sodden mess he’d put to bed, and chuckled. The mental image was causing the monk to start laughing and he quickly stifled it, glancing at several neatly repaired old tears in his robes.
Inuyasha never did sleep much. Tucking the much battered, antique sewing box back where he found it, he set up his sleeping bag and got some sleep.
***
“Ow.” Inuyasha opened an eye to new smells. Tea, that was tea, with...Miroku? His head pounded and he felt nauseous as he crawled out of his bed. Groaning, he looked up as a pair of feet came into view.
“Good morning, Inuyasha,” Miroku said pleasantly, looking down at him.
“Shhh,” Inuyasha tried to get up, ears flattening at the loud to him voice, and suddenly looked completely horrified. “She’s here! Ohhhh, not now! It’s a mess. Miroku...gotta help, she can’t see me like this...” he asked with a moan of misery, trying to get up. She, of course, was his Kagome. She’d come to him for forgiveness! He’d give it, of course...his beloved did the most baka things, she probably had Sesshomaru’s head for him too...
“No. I came alone to help you,” Miroku said gently.
“No?” The hanyou held his head, wincing, “She‘s not? Where’s Sango? She has t’be here. It‘s her home,” he mumbled, looking upset.
“Sango is with Kagome. I came here alone,” the monk repeated patiently as Inuyasha fell back into his bed, uninterested in getting up now.
“Now, now, no more sulking. Time to get you dried out, Inuyasha. Come on. You need a bath and some food,” Miroku got him up and steered him outside to the hot spring for a long overdue bath.
Author’s notes-Well! Chapter eleven! I’m really pleased with it overall, quite fun to write and inject a bit of somewhat dark humor. In case you were wondering, the embroidery? Well, I got to thinking, he had to have done something to keep himself occupied all those years, and why wouldn’t he have learned something like sewing? He was raised in a castle before his mother died, according to the few flashbacks in the anime, so he’s not entirely uncivilized. In any case, thanks as always for reading!-Namiyo
I do not own Inuyasha or related characters.
Recap: The group splits up, Miroku going after the distraught Inuyasha after delaying but not breaking his engagement with Sango, realizing they weren’t yet ready to be together. Sango remains with the heartbroken Kagome. Where did Inuyasha go when he left? How is he taking the breakup? Read on!
“Oh Kami. Not gonna make it,” Inuyasha realized getting to the entrance to the cave wasn’t going to happen just before he puked all over the rough stone floor.
He’d run all night nonstop when he’d left her, heading-he didn’t know where. Somewhere he could forget he’d ever seen her, heard of the jewel, or bothered with people. His feet led him here without a thought after two days of traveling in the old, hated way, avoiding humans and youkai alike, moving fast and staying out of trouble like a good little hanyou.
Now, he was back where he’d lived before he heard about the jewel while scavenging in the lowlands. His current location was in a tiny mountain valley high in the range, with decent hunting access and a hot spring. He’d started fixing up the cave he sprawled in himself long ago when he’d run off from his mother’s family castle as a kid, slowly adding to it as the mood struck over the years. It was how he’d learned to use his claws and built up his strength. At first, it was bearable.
He’d killed the pig youkai who’d moved into his valley while he was gone, moved the bolder he’d blocked off the lair with, and started to refill the stores. A tidy person, even if he didn’t admit it, he cleaned and swept the place out and unpacked everything he’d stored when he left. His stuff was still here, that was a plus. Sorting, setting up and getting the pig smell out of his valley had taken the first week he was back.
Home again.
He clutched the jar and started crying again. The empty storage jar of sake he was embracing was the cause of his current state of heavy inebriation. Swiping it had seemed like a really good idea at the time, along with it’s mostly empty siblings that were scattered across his lair. Glancing around, he sighed heavily and tried to get his unsteady legs under him to clean up the mess. He’d daydreamed over the last three years about bringing Kagome...no. No Kagome! He threw the empty jar across the cave and slumped in misery as it shattered against the rock.
‘The inn probably missed them by now... I’m almost out,’ Inuyasha thought fuzzily as he ripped off the lid of another jar and gulped a good portion of the contents to get the taste out of his mouth. He’d never been a big drinker, not in over two centuries, simply because a hanyou never let their guard down. Not if they wanted to keep breathing. But he didn’t care anymore. He didn’t really eat, he slept when he passed out, and hadn’t bathed in days. A youkai had come through a couple of days ago, and he’d blindly told it to go ahead and eat him. It got a good look, one sniff, and ran the other way.
“Kagome, you bitch! How the fuck could you do this to me?”
Week two had been worse. He’d been able to deal with being alone before. He had his own little kingdom where he was undisputed master of all he surveyed, slaughtering anything that dared try and take it from him. But he’d been miserably lonely then and it was worse now. The jewel...he had to go and decide to try for the jewel all those years ago.
Scheming time traveling bitch! Inuyasha thought he had everything. For a few moments, his life had become perfect, a beautiful mate, a family to come, a place to belong. Poof! All gone. This was supposed to be where he would make a home for her, damn it! He’d shredded several hapless trees and deliberately went looking for fights to work off his frustration. There wasn’t a youkai left alive in the area now except ones passing through.
Days passed. She hadn’t come for him. The monk hadn’t come for him, Sango, even the little kit! They’d all abandoned him, probably were running with Sesshomaru too by now, the bastards. Kagome was probably screwing his brother as he sat there waiting for her to come tell him she’d killed his half brother and was begging for his forgiveness. He’d kept imagining either her holding Sesshomaru’s dripping severed head, or naked with the one armed slime. He kept looking and hoping. No one came as he stewed in self-pity and depression.
Then he’d seen the village. Humans had dared to settle on the lower slopes of his territory! Humans...like she’d been until the wish. Granted, he’d abandoned the area fifty-three years ago, but this was intolerable.
They’d have to pay. He snuck in the first night and stole an armload of crap. He tormented them with thefts, scaring the cattle, anything to piss them off. He dumped the stuff he took in his lair and went to get more, not paying attention to what he stole. Then he actually looked at what he stole. Women’s kimonos. Jewelry. Combs. Cushions. Pretty, girly things. Crap! He’d stolen things for her! DAMN HER!
Inuyasha completely snapped. He started breaking into the larger buildings and saw them the next night. Sake jars. He stole the lot in a fit of depression. It was a pain to shuffle so much of it, but he got it home and started drinking alcohol he wasn’t used to...in very large quantities.
Week three...he remembered vaguely he’d used the Kaze no Kizu on some things...he’d yelled a lot...
Week four was a blur. Except for the youkai. That he remembered. Hadn’t that been his human night? Nah...he’d been chasing that thing for an hour trying to get it to eat him and put him out of his misery, no way he’d have been able to keep up if he’d been human. He drank some more, and groaned.
***
“MONK! Please, you must help us!”
The entire village was gathered around a bewildered Miroku. He’d followed his ofuda spell here, to a tiny but prosperous village set in the foothills, trailing weeks behind Inuyasha. He’d had to deal with several youkai problems and exorcisms en route. They’d ended up delaying him more even as he walked on, hunting the hanyou. Recently though the spell had stayed mostly put in his hand, meaning his quarry had gone to ground at last.
“What troubles you, good people?” Miroku asked, sighing to himself. Another delay.
“A mad youkai torments us! He stole my wife’s clothes!”
“And mine, we dare not leave washing out now!”
“My best cushions!”
“All of the village inn’s sake!”
“My cow! What he did to my prize cow!” The litany went on, and Miroku was alarmed. What sort of apparently male youkai stole women’s clothes, alcohol, and furnishings? This youkai had stolen with good taste from the sound of it, as he was steered to several huts and shown the bare floors, and in one case the mooing victim. Putting up ofuda, he puzzled over the list of items.
“He stole all my towels last week, good monk. What kind of youkai steals towels? He kept screaming horrible things about something called Sampoo. Please, you must exorcize the village! Do not forsake us!”
“He made no sense!” another woman noted. “He yelled at me about having an ex-am! What is it, good monk? Am I accursed?” the young woman who spoke trembled as Miroku blessed her, eyes lighting up. Shampoo? An exam? There was only one youkai in the world who would know what those were. Who’d apparently...completely lost his mind.
‘At least he hasn’t hurt anyone,’ Miroku thought. After all, there hadn’t been one injury in over two weeks of incidents.
“I know this sort of youkai of old,” he said easily, patting a villager on the arm. “I will go and deal with this, and no one is to follow me,” he directed, giving them a few things to do to keep busy. Some chants and incense to offer that wouldn’t hurt anyway, then he made his way into the hills, following the spell.
***
Inuyasha howled. He’d never howled before, but it seemed to work for him. He had to dip farther into the jar now, and he swore as he missed it. He started to slur a century old love song...very loudly.
***
Miroku had found an almost invisible path as he’d climbed up into the hills, eventually going into a tiny hidden canyon that opened into a smallish, sheltered valley. Several scars laced the land, the unmistakable signs of the Kaze no Kizu, and...ok, there were furnishings scattered about, along with most of what had to be the women’s stolen garments and what had been trees.
Horrible noises could faintly be heard as he approached...what the hell had happened here??
Miroku followed the noise to a small cave mouth and peered in, nearly gagging on the smell of old sake and vomit, coupled with...wet dog?
“Inuyasha? It’s Miroku,” he called carefully, breathing through his mouth to avoid the worst of the stench.
“Goway! You aren’ here. Bassars!” a familiar voice yelled. Stepping in and along a small tunnel, he looked around as it opened up. It was...an entryway? Someone had built a rough wall of tightly fitted, peeled logs around the opening of the tunnel, leaving a small space and a doorway. He left his sandals and walked in past a thick curtain into a larger cave, currently furnished in early drunk. Miroku gaped at the creature slumped against the wall, peering at him owlishly.
Bloodshot eyes, circles, and the horrible sight of a filthy, plastered out of his mind Inuyasha greeted him.
‘Great Kami and all the Buddha...she broke him,’ he thought.
“Mir’ko? Siddown, have a drin’,” Inuyasha said, waving a hand and nearly falling over. The monk sighed and left. This was not going to be pleasant. Mushin had been good training for this, he reflected. Waking the drunken Monk had been part of his novice duties.
Miroku returned with one of the biggest unbroken pots Inuyasha had stolen, and found the hanyou was patting the ground in confusion. He was looking for the pair of monks he‘d seen with his double vision.
“My friend, you need help,” the monk said kindly, shaking his head.
“Y’back,” Inuyasha peered up at him.
“Yes. Hold still.” With that, Miroku dumped the cold water he’d fetched over the hanyou.
“AHHH!” he jumped up and yelped, shaking himself-or trying to as he fell over.
“Phew! What have you been drinking? Inuyasha, you need to get cleaned up.”
“Why? Bassar stol ‘er. Mir’ko, he stol ‘er...was mine! Said yesh,” he said mournfully, just laying there, maudlin and teary as only a drunk could be. Soon, a horrible, rumbling snore could be heard.
“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” Miroku sighed and counted the containers as he dragged the pathetic hanyou out of the puddle he‘d passed out in. Figure two weeks from what the villagers had said...if he’d been human, he’d probably have died of alcohol poisoning somewhere around day three.
***
The place amazed the monk. It was a waterless cave, one separated into interconnected rooms by thick, rough log walls and curtained doors. He counted a living room with a cooking alcove, a sleeping room, a storage room and the entryway. There was even a cunning chimney of sorts for a fire. Miroku poked around, fascinated, ignoring the deep rumbling snores echoing from the sleeping room.
He saw bright, delicately embroidered tapestries nailed up on the log walls, scavenged and roughly repaired odds and ends for furnishings, all set out with care and thought under the mess that the drunken inu had left. Clearly, this was where his friend had lived for a long time, perhaps centuries. But, it was the hangings that kept catching his eye. Where had these come from? Everything else looked like the hanyou had made it himself or found it after it had been tossed out by someone else. The workmanship was exquisite, the designs unusual... Miroku poked around some more, and saw-oh my.
He looked in at the sodden mess he’d put to bed, and chuckled. The mental image was causing the monk to start laughing and he quickly stifled it, glancing at several neatly repaired old tears in his robes.
Inuyasha never did sleep much. Tucking the much battered, antique sewing box back where he found it, he set up his sleeping bag and got some sleep.
***
“Ow.” Inuyasha opened an eye to new smells. Tea, that was tea, with...Miroku? His head pounded and he felt nauseous as he crawled out of his bed. Groaning, he looked up as a pair of feet came into view.
“Good morning, Inuyasha,” Miroku said pleasantly, looking down at him.
“Shhh,” Inuyasha tried to get up, ears flattening at the loud to him voice, and suddenly looked completely horrified. “She’s here! Ohhhh, not now! It’s a mess. Miroku...gotta help, she can’t see me like this...” he asked with a moan of misery, trying to get up. She, of course, was his Kagome. She’d come to him for forgiveness! He’d give it, of course...his beloved did the most baka things, she probably had Sesshomaru’s head for him too...
“No. I came alone to help you,” Miroku said gently.
“No?” The hanyou held his head, wincing, “She‘s not? Where’s Sango? She has t’be here. It‘s her home,” he mumbled, looking upset.
“Sango is with Kagome. I came here alone,” the monk repeated patiently as Inuyasha fell back into his bed, uninterested in getting up now.
“Now, now, no more sulking. Time to get you dried out, Inuyasha. Come on. You need a bath and some food,” Miroku got him up and steered him outside to the hot spring for a long overdue bath.
Author’s notes-Well! Chapter eleven! I’m really pleased with it overall, quite fun to write and inject a bit of somewhat dark humor. In case you were wondering, the embroidery? Well, I got to thinking, he had to have done something to keep himself occupied all those years, and why wouldn’t he have learned something like sewing? He was raised in a castle before his mother died, according to the few flashbacks in the anime, so he’s not entirely uncivilized. In any case, thanks as always for reading!-Namiyo