Okay, guys! A short one-shot for all my fellow Inu/Kag fans. I am planning on writing an alternate ending to this sometime in the near future, so no fears and keep watch.
WARNING: The original ending I wrote is NOT fluffy and light. Be warned!
Disclaimer: sighs How many times must we go THROUGH this, Rumiko? YOU own, not me!! The story IDEA is mine, but technically under law, you can now use my whole idea and take credit because I used you characters.
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To: Daddy's Little Girl
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Damn it all to Hell!
Leaning back against the slimy mud behind him, Inuyasha Takahashi could almost swear the corner of the yellowing piece of paper was curling with age before his very eyes! Well, he thought, at least it was only happening at the corners. He would have had to go on a rip-roaring rampage if the image itself had been damaged! After all, what could be more precious than a snapshot of that one, all-important moment he had been misfortunate enough to miss? It was all he had to remind him that his life before this had been REAL, and not just a wishful dream.
"Hey," came a voice from beside him, and Inuyasha looked up in alarm, clasping the picture to his chest fiercely.
"What the hell do you want, Miroku?!" Inuyasha growled, bristled immensely that his tender moment had been interrupted.
Miroku Hiragawa, the newest recruit of Inuyasha's company with only five months behind him, snorted. "Well, nice to talk to you, too, Inuyasha!" He wiped his filthy hands on the dusty grey pants of his uniform, sat down beside his superior, and turned his attention to the piece of paper in the Master Corporal's hands. "Whatcha got there?"
Inuyasha's fist came down roughly on the soldier's head, causing the young man to groan and rub the sore spot tentatively. "That's SIR to you, soldier! We're on duty, remember?"
"Fine!" Miroku cried, throwing his arms into the air dramatically. "What have you got there, SIR?"
From the moment Miroku had met his hard-headed MC, and had thrown words with him, the other boys of the company had been quick to dub them the "Double-T." That is, Team Testosterone. Honestly, Miroku and Inuyasha were just as aggressive OFF the battlefield as on when they felt like it: a fact that their commanding Captain, Ross, did not fail to miss whenever he saw them. They were competitive and very passionate men, who had very special reasons to go on living – even though they woke up every morning in the middle of a hell-hole.
That, however, would be temporary.
Inuyasha ignored Miroku's question, and closed his eyes, trying to rid his nose of the putrid smell of rotting flesh drifting down from the front bank of the body-filled, green and red trench that they sat in. The smell was absolutely nauseating – even more so when he looked down at his feet and saw the slick shape of a hand sticking up from a pool of sickly-green goo. The arm attached to the hand was bent backward, and the fingers of the hand itself were limp.
The Master Corporal's chocolate gaze traveled up the arm again, and stared into the stunned, pale face of the body, which was permanently contorted with fear and pain from the pussy, weeping bullet wounds in the dead man's chest and abdomen. The bacteria were already starting to attack the corpse, and the sight along with the smell was enough to make Inuyasha turn sideways and puke!
Miroku put his hand on his friend's back, rubbing soothingly as Inuyasha spewed green, lumpy liquid into the mud beside him. When Inuyasha finally finished with a grunt, he sat back up and lifted his arms up to stretch, and one hand wiped away the vomit from his chin and lips. In doing so, Miroku managed to catch a good glimpse of the small photograph in Inuyasha's grip.
Curiosity piqued, and knowing well his commander was in no mighty mood right now, Miroku leaned in and snatched the photo right from the MC's hand!
"NO!" Inuyasha shrieked, terrified. "It might tear!!"
But, luckily for Miroku, it did not tear.
"Pretty lady," Miroku replied, smiling and raising an eyebrow. "Your sister?"
Inuyasha held out his hand patiently for the precious picture to be returned; he did not want to risk taking it by force. "No. My wife, idiot!"
Miroku ignored the outstretched hand. He couldn't help but chuckle at the thought of Inuyasha being married, and through his laughter – and Inuyasha's brooding – he looked back down to examine the faded photograph more closely.
A beautiful woman, looking to be in her mid-twenties, sat facing the camera. Obviously, from the white pillow and wall behind her, and all the equipment beside her, she was in a hospital. Deep blue-grey eyes stared out at him from below sweeping ebony bangs that joined a wavy head of flowing hair, neatly tucked behind the woman's right ear and curling over her shoulders as it cascaded down her back. Her face was sweetly round and young, and her cheeks tinted a faint rosy colour. Her skin was damp and shiny with perspiration, but she smiled brightly despite her exertions. Wrapped tenderly in her white hospital gown-clad arms, was a lovely little baby with chocolate eyes and small patches of black hair on its head.
"How adorable!" Miroku grinned delightedly.
"For COURSE she is!" Inuyasha replied, taking the photo gently from his friend and stroking it affectionately. "She's my little princess...! Takara..." A deep sadness appeared inside his eyes as he stared at the portrait of his family, thousands of miles away.
"Where are they?" Miroku asked, frowning sympathetically.
Inuyasha's eyes misted, as though he were far away in time and space. "Detroit, Michigan. We moved from Japan four years ago, Kagome and me, right after we were married. In 1937. I was a Historical Legends Professor at the university and an antique guru. Got an awesome katana from fifteenth century Japan at home in a glass case! Then I got drafted...."
"How long ago was that?" Miroku replied.
"Sixteen months ago," Inuyasha replied miserably. "My wife was just halfway through her term at the time. I didn't want to go...!" He paused, and let out a heart-wrenching sigh. "Kara will be almost one now... I was home six and a half months ago for a week on official leave, but..."
Miroku nodded. "But, it wasn't long enough. I know how you feel."
"I sent a package to my girl a week ago; Kagome knows I like sending it to Takara in name: makes me feel like I'm getting to know her, you know, get to be a real father. It's been delayed in the mail, they said, but they'll be shipping it this week."
Miroku nodded agreement. "Sometimes I do that, too. These little monsters," he said, pulling out a necklace locket from his buttoned-up pocket, and flicked it open with his dirt-encrusted forefinger, "are my two boys, and my lovely wife there— Sango's her name— can look forward to at LEAST two more little tykes when I come home and finally get my itching hands on her! Besides, there're too few young kids in our neighbourhood in London. Ontario, that is."
"Funny, I didn't think a woman could bear living with you, let alone bedding with you! Not to mention in a frigid place like Canada!" Inuyasha prodded, smirking.
Miroku grinned back. "I was thinking the same thing about you. And it isn't that cold, most of the time."
"Whatever, but at least I keep my hands off the field nurses," Inuyasha snapped.
"I only play, sir. Nothing compares to my Sango."
"Feh!" Inuyasha turned away in annoyance, and folded his arms.
"Boy, I bet your wife loves that phrase!"
Inuyasha turned and growled. "You don't know her! How DARE you talk about my wife! My Kagome is sweet and caring, and I won't allow you to make assumptions about what she does or doesn't like!"
Holding up his hands in peace, Miroku stopped playing. "Calm down, I didn't mean to offend."
Inuyasha made a very graceful "Hmph!" and stayed silent after placing his photo into the pocket of his shirt.
An uncomfortable silence followed. Neither was inclined to break it, but Miroku knew it must be done. So, at length, he spoke.
"Did you know we're going over the top in the morning?"
Inuyasha, alarmed, turned to look at him. "Already?! I thought they'd give us a little longer! After all, there are machine turrets and bunkers up there!"
Miroku nodded, remembering full well was over the edge of the trench: about forty feet of No Man's Land and then a steep rising slope, with at least a dozen machine gun bunkers at the top. Going over without a plan was suicide! Hopefully, the command had some rationale behind it, rather than some officer sitting in his damned tent barking orders without knowing what the hell was happening in front. The last time THAT had happened (which had been the night before), the whole front line of men hadn't gotten three feet from the trench before dropping, courtesy of the bunkers up the slope!
Miroku suddenly felt very sick as he looked up at the hot, summer sky as dusk began falling. Something in the pit of his stomach felt very ill, and he was very afraid. Afraid that he would be one of those men who dropped! What if he never saw Sango or his boys again?! "Inuyasha, are we going to die?"
Inuyasha stared at him incredulously. What did he want him to say? Yes? No? Maybe? Somewhere deep inside himself, Inuyasha was treading lightly on that question, too. He couldn't afford to believe he would die, and leave his beloved wife and child alone. But he also couldn't afford to get too cocky. So, he did the only thing he could allow.
He stalled the answer.
"War is war, Miroku. Some men live, others die. All we can do is fight hard, and keep thinking about how good it'll feel to be dismissed and sent home, where we can embrace our wives and indulge our children again."
"Yeah," Miroku smiled, lingering in a descriptive daydream. "Indulge our wives and embrace our children...!"
Miroku cried out as a hand came down on his head again.
"You pervert!" Inuyasha grinned. "But, yeah, it'll be nice to... indulge Kaggle-baby..." His grin became a smirk.
"Now who's the pervert?" Miroku chuckled.
This intense wail of a child hit Kagome's ears, and her eyes snapped open to greet the pre-dawn darkness of morning. She was up on her feet in an instant, and took a moment to stare at the friendly Yellow LED's of her alarm clock that read 5:41. Her satin pajama pants rustled as she hurried over to the crib resting along the adjacent wall to her bed, and picked up her pride and joy delicately.
Takara Takahashi continued to sob and squeal until her gentle mother, now twenty-six, sat in the rocking chair near the crib, and pulled up her satin tank top and presented her with a warm, soft breast. Kagome sighed as Kara's little lips nibbled about for a time before finally finding and latching onto the pink-brown nipple, beginning to suckle hungrily.
Leaning back into the soft back pad of the chair, Kagome began to rock slowly, pondering. She knew how reproachfully people looked at her for breast-feeding; after all, Kara was eleven months old. But, Kara still wanted Kagome's milk, and to hell with what the doctors said! Kagome's friend, Eri, when she had her baby, had gone off the breast to bottles early, and ended up starving her kid because of what those people had told her!
"A bottle every four hours, whether the baby cries or not," they had instructed.
Screw that! Kagome had a rule: if her baby cried, she would go straight to the breast. If her baby didn't want the breast, it was time for a diaper check. And so on and so forth... Anyway, what was wrong with breast feeding a baby – even if they were almost a year old? Kagome would feed Kara that way until probably a year and half before switching to solids. Why did every mother Kagome know always bottle feed?
Kara pulled away from the nipple after having her fill, and gave a soft hiccup. Kagome melted, staring down at the lovely little package in her arms. The one that looked so identical to the wonderful man who had sired it.
"Oh, Kara...!" Kagome cooed, nuzzling her daughter as she took her back to the crib. "Why can't Daddy come home, huh? I can write him letters – send him pictures as often as I can – but I can't send him those beautiful little sounds!" She moved over the to window on the other side of the room slowly, so as not to wake the now sleeping infant.
Staring out at the morning light, now draping over the sky from the horizon, she felt a sudden cold spread through her, and a deep sense of dread crept over her tired mind and battered her with worry and ice! "Why can't you be here, Inu...?"
Fuck.
It was all that could come to mind as he gripped the edge of the trench and stared over the dead bodies of the row of soldiers that had just pushed out – and been slaughtered by the swinging gun turrets! If it weren't for the fact that Miroku was on runner duty, Inuyasha wouldn't have been quite so frightened! As it was, he was about to be ordered to hop up and dash over a forty foot graveyard and try not to get pumped full of bullets long enough to engage in melee! He was fucking terrified!
He glanced at the muddy watch on his left wrist. Five minutes. They'd been waiting five minutes.
His right hand released the edge and reached to touch the pocket of his shirt. He heard a soft crackling sound as he pushed against the paper inside, and sighed in relief. He still had his picture! For that, he could thank God! Now, if he could just manage to survive...
He could only think of one thing as he heard the signal whistle blow, and he and his comrades hauled themselves up over the edge, preparing to rush forward: I love you both! All he could remember of himself: I love you both!
Pushing up onto his feet, he pounded forward, rifle in hand, and from the corner of his eye, he could see the others doing the same. However, a great many of those dropped, bleeding, to the ground as the sound of ammunition rounds exploded rapidly in all directions! He looked down at his feet for a split second – long enough to watch his footing as he stepped awkwardly into a puddle of the same green goo he had encountered before, inside the trench!
A split second, it seemed, was too long to look away...
Multiple explosions reverberated through his stomach, causing wave after wave of agony to sweep through him! He looked down at his hand that had instinctively clutched his abdomen, and saw blood oozing alarming forth in streams that soaked his uniform crimson! He began counting. One.. two.. three.. four.. five. Five bullet holes.
Five minutes of waiting. Four years of blissful marriage. Three wonderful family members: mother, father, half-brother. Two gorgeous females at home that he loved with all his heart. One more moment to realize that he was falling.
And then, Inuyasha Takahashi felt nothing more...
Someone was at the door.
Kagome looked up over her shoulder from inside the livingroom towards to adjacent front hall. A few feet away, Kara was safely sitting in her playpen. The knock she had just heard came again, and Kagome scrambled to end her conversation quickly.
"... Amber, I'll have to call you back. ... Uh-huh, you too. ... Okay, bye." She hung up the phone and hurried to the door, hearing Kara squeal cheerfully in her pen.
Opening the door, she had expected to see a neighbour or friend who was just stopping by for a visit on a lazy Sunday afternoon in late July. Instead, she saw a man dressed in a black sweatshirt and grey pants. His black hair and brown eyes were fixed on her intently. He tried to force a smile as he handed her a package and a letter, but it didn't work very well.
"Good Afternoon, Mrs. Takahashi," he nodded shakily as he handed her a clipboard. "I'm Miroku Hiragawa. I was a soldier in your husband's company. Would you please sign here."
"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hiragawa," Kagome smiled brightly, as she signed the dotted line. She knew who the parcel was from. "My, he sends bigger packages every time! I'll have to give him one heck of a hug when he comes back next!"
A sad glint appeared in Miroku's eyes, and he had to look away. "My sympathy, Mrs. Takahashi. May I step inside for a moment?"
Kagome became a little wary, but allowed him into the front hall, keeping a close eye on him to make sure he didn't go for the livingroom, where her precious baby could still be heard giggling loudly.
"Yes?" she said, raising an eyebrow.
"Ma'am, I was a soldier of Inuyasha's company, as I said, but I think I also became his friend. I was only there six months before I was discharged recently."
"Discharged? For what?" she asked.
Miroku waved his hand absently. "Some complaint put in by the field nurses. Said there was something wrong with my hands. Imagine! But, um... that's not the point I was getting at..."
Leaning against the light blue wall, Kagome tensed a little. "And just what WAS the point you were getting at?"
"I think, Mrs. Takahashi, that you should sit down. Take the package and letter with you to the couch. I swear, I'll stay right here where you can see me; I can imagine how hard it is to let a stranger into your home – especially with a young child there."
"Can you?" Kagome said skeptically, but gathered the mail and sat on the couch anyway, and as promised, Miroku stayed rooted to the spot.
"I'd advise opening the package fi—!" Miroku started, but Kagome was already tearing open the envelope of the letter.
The letter had been addressed to one Mrs. Kagome Takahashi from the MMRO: the Michigan Military Registrar's Office.
Her eyes began to widen as she read the short letter, until they glistening with tears that spilled down her cheeks rapidly at the end.
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Dear Mrs. Takahashi,
It is my deepest regret to inform you that on Wednesday, July 20, your husband, Inuyasha Takahashi (MC), was gathered and registered KIC: Killed In Combat. It is with heavy hearts that we announce such a devastating loss. I, myself, had the privilege of knowing him: a deeply honest, passionate man, worthy of pride and honour. Know that his valiant sacrifice has been for our united wish for peace. He was a fine soldier, and a remarkable man.
With Deepest Sympathy,
Jason M. Ross (CPT)
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Kagome's throat felt like a vice as she struggled to gasp in air! She struggled to find some mistake in the letter – something that she had overlooked that would disprove EVERYTHING that she had just read! She reread three times, to no avail. It was what is said it was. All around her the world was crashing down, and she didn't even hear the gurgling of her concerned child who stared out at her through the thin, translucent cloth of the pen.
Kara's little arms were outstretched, wanting for her mummy to hold her. Something wasn't right with her mummy, and Kara wanted to make it better! She gurgled again, frustrated.
Kagome finally noticed, and forced a smile at her baby girl. "It's okay, sweetheart. Mummy's sob okay..."
Reaching into the envelope again, Kagome pulled out a small piece of yellowing paper with the corners beginning to curl. She blanched and bit her lower lip. It was the picture she had sent him of Kara's birth. Her lips trembled ferociously, before she began choking on the lump in her throat.
Tenderly, she held the picture to her heart, then brought it to her nose. It smelled faintly of sweat and dirt and blood – the smell of war – but more so did it smell of pine and male and sap. It smelled of Inuyasha...!
Tossing the letter and envelope onto the glass coffee table, and placing the picture into the pocket of her shirt, she leaned back into the couch, taking a shaky breath as she braced herself for the opening of the package. It would be his uniform and belongings, she just knew it! She glanced down, and saw the writing on the brown paper wrapping, and wailed in agony as she tried to wipe away her tears.
To: Daddy's Little Girl
c/o: Kagome Takahashi
2499 Pennbury Avenue,
Detroit, Michigan
Kagome held her head with her hands and rocked back and forth, crying and sobbing, as quietly as she could manage, for Kara's sake. From the corner of her blurry eye, she could still make out Mr. Hiragawa, standing motionless in the doorway. The room seemed to grow freezing cold and dark around her, and she could find no means to escape it!
When she gained enough strength to continue, she opened the paper, careful not to rip the writing, and set it aside delicately on the table: it had been one of the last things he had written to her...!
Inside, she saw a giant fuzzy pink teddy bear, with a satin bow around its neck, and a pillow sewn to its front paws that said "I Love You." And underneath it was a postcard. Very gently, she lifted up the card, swallowed deeply, and continued wiping away the constant tears. On the front of the card was a picture of a beach with crystal blue waters, white sand, and gorgeous sunshine. In the lower right-hand corner, it said in cursive "Welcome To Heaven."
Kagome smiled genuinely, despite her pain. He had known she had always wanted to go to a beach just like that.
She turned the card over and read the short message: his last words to his family:
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Hi, Kara, sweetie! How's Daddy's little girl? How's Mummy? Daddy's fine, but he misses you and Mummy a lot! A lot, a lot! He can't WAIT to see you two again! Has my little genius started walking or talking yet? I hope not. Daddy would HATE to miss that! Anyway, Daddy's gotta go, so I love you both THIIIISSSSS much! Give Mummy a great big hug for me, k, baby girl?
XOXOXO,
Daddy
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Miroku, never one to enjoy seeing a woman cry, pulled out a pen and paper, and scribbled down an address and number, and approached her, kneeling beside the arm of the couch. "Kagome, this is my phone number and whatnot. If you need to talk to someone, don't hesitate to call either me or my wife, Sango. Anytime, day or night. We'll do whatever we can."
Through Kagome's tears, she peered at him, blue eyes sparkling like blazing diamonds. As hoarse as her throat was, she managed to say thank you softly. He nodded and padded her shoulder.
"Would you... would you please just... stay with me? Just for a little while? Please...?"
He nodded. "May I use your phone to call my wife?"
Kagome nodded dumbly, jaw agape slightly as she stared at Kara, still fussing in her pen. As Miroku dialed the operator for the connection, the twenty-six year old widow hobbled over to her lovely little child, and cradled her firmly against her. This was the last thing she had of him. Her Inuyasha...! He had left her his child: the spitting female image of himself.
Before, there were times when Kagome found it painful to look at Kara when Inuyasha was away, because of the resemblance. And now, she knew that pain would only grow more frequent, but she would bear it bravely. After all, Inuyasha, wherever her beloved was, would want her to smile again.
The End (Not! Don't forget the alternate ending! )