A/N: Hello. For those of you who have seen my fic will probably note that this looks suspiciously similar to an older fic I made. That would be because I took it and the protagonist back to the drawing board and am pretty pleased with the results.
Let me extend a public thanks to author Berticus for advising me on keeping characters' personalities in line with canon. If anyone is interested, check out his own fic, "Inuyasha: Fates of he Souls".
So, without further ado, let's go.
St. Louis, Missouri – February 12, 1966
?
So, this was how humanity was. Human technology gradually overtook the world, yet its tendency to tear itself apart hadn't changed since the Feudal Era of Japan. This Cold War that gripped the world was evidence of it.
Youkai like herself were rapidly sidelined starting from as far back as the 18th Century. Time had little meaning for the female Youkai who was looking out over the city. Even if they couldn't see her, she sat upon the "Gateway Arch", as it was known.
She had a reason for being here, and it had nothing to do with the Youkai that were starting to die out. She was waiting for a certain someone to be born; someone whose being she always kept on her, even after time had long claimed him. Someone who taught her human emotion and decency, which she'd have never imagined ever having, much less liking.
Humanity was infectious—that someone demonstrated that in appreciable fashion. Though she once thought of humanity as a weakness, he showed her otherwise. The Youkai woman ruffled her green-tinted black hair, fond memories flowing through her mind.
Tokyo, Japan – 1997
The hustle and bustle in this city was very subdued compared to what he'd grown up with in St. Louis, though somewhat louder than Kansas City. Even Sao Paulo, where his father's side of the family lived, felt livelier. Then again, it was an inevitability when you compared two cultures side-by-side. His knowledge of Japanese culture was rudimentary, even if his understanding of the language was very serviceable.
For thirty-one-year-old Wayne Alencar, Japanese was like a second language, despite being the third one he'd learned. It was thanks to his mother's side of the family that he knew how. Speaking of his mother's side of the family, Wayne decided to visit his extended family in Kyoto while he was between jobs. Well, more like it was requested of him by his mother; still, Wayne had always been curious to set foot in Asia.
His maternal grandmother tended to a Shinto shrine outside of Kyoto, but one of her daughters (his aunt Aiko) as well as his great aunt made occasional trips to Tokyo. There was a shrine they made trips to: the Higurashi shrine. And they just happened to be waiting for him.
Of course, he didn't know where it was, so he needed to hire a cab.
Most of the folks he met so far were quite polite, but the occasional extended glance still occurred. Frankly, it didn't much matter to Wayne. It was obvious to anyone that he was no pureblood; his features were a mix of Caucasian, Asian, and Hispanic. His jawline was borderline chiseled, and his hair was a rather dark shade of brown, arranged in a curtain style.
His skin was a deep tan, in part because of his paternal ancestry, and in part because of how much time he spent in the sun. To top that off, he had a physical figure most men his age would kill to have—comes with his hobby.
His most striking feature, however, was his eyes. They looked like gold when illuminated by the sun. Every other time, they were the color of tarnished brass—often described by others as an outlandish version of hazel.
"We're here," the cab driver said.
"Thank you," Wayne replied in Japanese. "I'm afraid I haven't hit currency exchange. Can I pay you in American dollars?"
How fortuitous for Wayne that the driver accepted. Money changed hands, as humans often have done for thousands of years. He took what he had brought with in the trunk. His aunt asked that he bring only the necessities, but…
Let's just say that Wayne's view of what's "necessary" didn't quite match up to what everyone else thought. True, there was the suitcase with the clothes and the toiletries, but then there was the hard guitar case he brought with. Then there was the duffel that contained the tools of his hobby. And then there was the bottle of whiskey…
Okay, okay…he probably didn't need the guitar. Ah, well. Too late now.
Five people were silhouetted against the sunset at the top of the stairs to the shrine; two of them were his aunt and great aunt. Of course, the exasperated face that crossed his aunt's face when he reached the top was to be expected.
"You just cannot prioritize, can you?" Aunt Aiko asked Wayne in English.
"I've got my priorities perfectly straight, thank you," Wayne said.
"If nothing else, you're responsible enough to get a cab rather than drive by yourself…I can smell the whiskey on your breath. Will you at least share?"
"Maybe, as long as you don't go out cold after a single shot of it, okay?" Wayne teased.
"Come on. I had never had anything that strong before," Aunt Aiko said. "I was just taken off-guard, is all."
"Relax, I'll share," Wayne chuckled. "We are still family, after all. Anyway, are these the residents?"
"Ah, yes. Allow me to introduce them," she said before switching to Japanese. "Ms. Higurashi, this is my nephew, Wayne Alencar, from the United States. Wayne, this is Ms. Higurashi, her father, and Souta and Kagome."
Souta was the young boy, probably not even into the eighth grade, yet. Hair was short with distinctive bangs (kid has good taste), his stature was short, too—could not be very far above waist height for Wayne. The kid reminded Wayne of himself when he was that age.
The young lady next to Ms. Higurashi was the one referred to as Kagome. She was a striking raven-haired beauty with brown eyes and a face that just radiated compassion. If Wayne were to relive his teen years right now, he'd have liked to grow up learning about this girl. Then again, they wouldn't have gotten along—he used to be a real ass at that age.
There was something about her that sent mixed feelings through his heart—it could have been anything. Kinship? Dread? Déjà vu?
"Pleased to meet all of you," Wayne said with a bow.
Keep the eyes closed—allowing your eyes to wander up to the recipient was a sign of distrust, and it caused offense. At least, that's what he was told. He wasn't looking to chance it.
"Don't kill yourself over it," his aunt practically whispered to him.
"Nice to meet you, too," Ms. Higurashi said.
A weird headache was coming on. Something about this meeting felt very odd.
Speaking of odd…
Wayne felt a chill down his spine, as if he was being watched from somewhere else. His eyes wandered to the shrine's roof. Nothing was there.
"Wayne? Are you all right?" Aunt Aiko asked, breaking him from his thoughts.
"Hmm? Oh, yeah. Sorry," Wayne apologized. "I must be that tired, huh?"
"Well, it is sundown," Aiko said. "The family's offered hospitality until we leave tomorrow. Of course, if you'd rather find a hotel room…"
"No, thank you. This'll be a nice change," Wayne said.
"Make yourself at home," Ms. Higurashi said. "I was about to start making dinner, anyway."
Let me know how it went.
