Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha . . .
ROCK ON!!!
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The rain pattered against the windows, the sky bleak and dark with stormy clouds. Atop an ancient shrine, beneath the shelter of an altar, a lone figure sat, staring blankly into the blurred scenery of Tokyo.
Why did you have to go . . .
The person hidden in the shadows was clearly male, his midnight black hair falling messily across his eyes. Coffee-brown eyes flecked with gold blinked, trying to push aside the raindrops that threatened to enter. He sat with his legs up to his chest, his chin resting on his knees as he stared in oblivion.
Things would've been different if you were here . . .
Darkness loomed over him as he felt a presence approach him from behind, their aura distinctly familiar to the somber young man.
"Junichiro?"
Reluctantly he looked up, his eyes empty as he recognized the man that stood before him.
"Yes, Uncle?" His voice was hard and restrained, as if trying to contain the emotion that threatened to spill.
Shaking his head, the older man slightly shifted the green umbrella he held with his left hand. "You shouldn't be out here, Junichiro-chan. You'll catch a cold."
Junichiro blinked, before pushing himself off the ground and standing. His uncle adjusted the umbrella to accommdate his nephew's height. A small pang of sadness filled his heart as a memory resurfaced in his mind.
Well, his father was of tall stature . . . I shouldn't be surprised that his son should inherit the same . . .
Shaking the thought off, he tilted his head slightly upward. "Let's go inside; the cookies your aunt has baked sounds good right about now, ne?"
He received no reply to his efforts, save for a slight nod of the head. Slowly the older man led him towards the house located at the end of the courtyard, sighing at another defeated effort to communicate with his estranged nephew.
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"Hitomi! We're back!"
The two men entered the house, shaking their clothing and pulling off their soaked shoes.
"Souta! Junichiro! Come, come, warm yourselves!" A small woman with brown hair appeared in the doorway, her hands in the pink apron tied in her hands. "I've just pulled out some fresh cookies out of the oven," she added, eyeing the soaked state of her husband and nephew.
Following the woman, Souta and Junichiro entered the kitchen and sat down at the kitchen table. Hitomi set before them a steaming plate of chocolate chip cookies and a pitcher of milk with two glasses.
"There you go," she said cheerfully, standing back as she watched her husband dig in eagerly into the baked goodies. She was about to turn back to the sink to clean her utensils when she saw Junichiro sitting at the head of table, simply staring at the cookies.
"Junichiro," she asked gently, "Don't you want any cookies?"
She watched as his brown-sugar eyes stared back at her, his chiseled face set into a grim expression as he uttered three syllables with much difficulty. "No, thank you."
Hitomi knew by now that pressuring him into doing something he didn't want to was useless. "Alright then, dear, why don't you go on up to your room? There's a package that arrived earlier; I set it on your bed."
Without a word, the young man stood, and silently made his way out of the kitchen. Souta, a cookie halfway to his mouth, set it back on the plate, sighed, and leaned back into his seat. "I just don't know what to do about him," he said wearily.
"Give him time, he'll come around," Hitomi assured, taking the seat that her nephew vaccated.
"Time . . . time . . . how much more?" Souta ran a hand through his unruly hair. "It's been 14 years, Hitomi. 14 years since he appeared at the bottom of the well."
"Yes, I know," the woman nodded. "Most children who have lost their parents would've been over it by now . . . but Souta, remember, his parents weren't exactly typical. His father being who he was . . ." she trailed off, remembering the great impact he had on her husband's life.
"He was a great man, regardless of what he was," Souta said firmly, drumming his fingers against the table.
"And his mother?"
"She was the strongest person I ever knew," he said quietly, his fingers ceasing to roll. A vague memory of a woman with long black hair and soft, caring eyes entered his mind.
His wife nodded, propping her head up with her hand as she stared out the kitchen window. There was silence for a couple of precious moments, before Hitomi broke the quiet reverie.
"He . . . he's so much like them," she whispered, turning to her husband. "Although he doesn't show it, I can see it. He holds his emotions in like his father . . . but he has this aura of pure innocence reminiscent to his mother . . ."
Souta didn't say anything, but his wife knew she was right. "They didn't die in vain, Souta."
The man hung his head and shook it sadly. "If only they decided to live here . . . if only they weren't stubborn . . . if only . . ."
"They had to stay there," Hitomi prodded gently. "They had to stay and finish what they had begun . . . and they did."
"Yeah, and at what cost?" Souta asked bitterly. "They lost their lives, and they left their son an orphan."
"They knew we were here," she reminded, reaching out and holding his hand. "They knew that we would take care of Junichiro."
Her husband didn't reply, and Hitomi knew that he too was holding back emotions he held for his long-dead sister. "They came back, though, didn't they? Before the end?"
Souta closed his eyes, remembering that fateful day . . .
FlashBack
"Souta!! Souta!!!"
The newly married man rushed outside, his eyes wide and scared. "What is it, Hitomi?"
"Come quick!" she beckoned, pulling him with her as they ran towards the well. Relieved that his bride was alright, Souta ran with curiousity towards the old well his sister traveled through for years.
Hitomi slid the door open with much force, yanking Souta and pushing him through it. It was dark inside, and he could hardly make out his surroundings. As his eyes focused to the light, he noticed two familiar figures sitting at the edge of the well, eaching leaning on the other.
"Kagome! Inuyasha!" he exclaimed, rushing down the steps. "I haven't seen you two in years!"
Souta eyed his sister carefully, her hair hanging loosely around her face, her body clad in miko robes worn back 500 years in the past. As he looked closer, he noticed her eyes were filled with exhaustion, her arms scratched and face badly bruised.
"What happened?" he gasped, taking in his sister's poor state. He glanced over to his brother-in-law, who, although hanyou, was in a similar condition as his wife. "Are you two alright?"
Glancing at her husband, Kagome took a breath and shook her head. "No, I'm afraid not," she whispered, her voice dragging with weariness. "The battle . . . the battle against Naraku is close, and it looks like our odds aren't good."
"It's started," Inuyasha spoke, running a hand through his silver hair. "We're going to give it all we got, but . . ." he sent a look to the miko.
"But what?" Souta asked, concerned. He felt Hitomi shift slightly behind him.
"I don't believe we'll make it," Kagome said sadly, motioning to herself and the hanyou.
"Kagome, no!" Souta protested, "You two can't sacrifice yourselves!"
"We've got no choice, kid," Inuyasha growled. "It's either fight till the death, or have our world and yours crumble from Naraku's power."
"But . . . but . . ." Souta argued weakly, not knowing what to say.
"Please, Souta," Kagome pleaded, "As a last request . . . please . . ." she choked back a sob, burying her face in her husband's dirtied haori.
Inuyasha soothed her, trying to calm her down with gentle words. Turning to his young brother-in-law, he gave him a fierce look. "What we're about to give you shouldn't be neglected and thrown away." His face softened considerably as he continued, "It causes us great pain, your sister and me, to give you this, but we have no choice."
Souta was taken aback. "You're not giving me the Sacred Jewel or anything, are you?" he asked worriedly.
The hanyou snorted. "Of course not . . . but it's just as valuble." Gently prying Kagome off him, he whispered a few words in her ear. Nodding, Kagome shifted slightly and pulled a small bundle from a sling from her back.
She handed the small bundle to her younger brother, her eyes filled with tears. Souta mechanically took it before peering inside. In it slept a young boy, his face sweet and angelic.
"What . . . who . . ." Souta stuttered, sending a wide-eyed stare to the couple.
Inuyasha chuckled bitterly. "Your nephew . . . Junichiro," he said. "Take care of him, brat."
"My . . . nephew?!" The younger man gaped, staring at the babe in his arms. His hair was midnight black, like his mother's, but when he opened his eyes they were a distinct brown swirled with gold. . . a mixture of the two gene pools.
"Please, Souta," Kagome pleaded, holding a hand to her baby's head. "Take care of him . . . if . . . if we don't come return . . ." she trailed off into sobs, turning her back on her brother as she tried to control her wracking body.
"Raise him like he's one of your own," Inuyasha finished gruffly, his own tears bearing unbearable pain. He leaned forward, and ruffling Junichiro's black hair, gently nudged his wife to say goodbye. The miko, her face wet with tears, bent over and kissed her only child on his forehead, her tears gently spraying him.
She stood back and managed to crack a smile at her younger brother. "We should've visited more often," she admitted, gazing into his cinnimon eyes. "I would've seen what kind of man you've become."
"Nee-chan," Souta began, but he was abruptly brushed off as the couple turned their backs on him.
"Take care of him, runt," Inuyasha called, taking Kagome into his arms and jumping into the well for the last time.
They never returned.
End Flashback
Souta opened his eyes, a single tear falling in remembrance of his courageous sister and her amazing husband. Shaking his head, he looked woefully at his wife. "Sometimes I wonder what would've happened if they returned."
Hitomi reached forward and stroked her husband's hand. "Junichiro would be different, that's for sure. He's so much like his father . . . the brooding type. I was lucky enough to meet him before he . . . well, passed on."
The man nodded, the chair scraping against the floor as he rose. "I have some errand to run. Seems like the rain's died down a bit."
He kissed his wife on the cheek and headed out the door, opening his umbrella to shield him from the sparse droplets that fell from the sky. He walked towards the long staircase, momentarily stopping to glance at the old wellhouse that held so many memories of his sister.
Closing his eyes, he headed towards the well, and sliding the door open, stepped inside. The musky smell of old wood greeted him as he descended down the stairs and peered into the darkness. He hung his head as he whispered to the well,
"Nee-chan, I've raised your son like one of my own and I've attended to his every needs. But there are things he longs for that I cannot give him. Things his heart yearns to know and have . . . to have you and Inuyasha live once again."
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AN: I know, I know . . .another new story?! before you guys go all postal on me, let me explain. I am simply expanding and excercising my writing skills to become a better writer . . . yes, this is a new story and I have two others to finish, but I assure you, I will finish all of them in due time. besides . . . I have two weeks off for christmas vacation! think of all the writing I can get done!
speaking of writing, I must apologize for the delay in mystories. We had finals the last two weeks, and I am serious when I say this, I averaged approximately five hours of sleep each week night, then 8 hours of school, 1 hour of work, and 1 and a half hours of basketball practice each day, before going home and doing homework for 3-4 hours . . . I am exhausted!
But I'm back to my writing, so do not fret! I'm baaaack!
while we're on the subject of stories . . . how do you like this one? Yes, it's a little dramatic at first, but it will get better . . . promise!
concerning "The Life to My Soul," I am doing some major construction work on it. By the end of this week I may repost it with even better writing ::gasp::!! haha, on the sad note, however, I will be permanently/temporarily removing "Where I Belong." Why you ask? That too I will remodel, after "The Life to My Soul," because as I reread it I found out that the story isn't going where I want it to. Don't worry, it'll come back!
whew, seems like I have my work cut out for me, huh? I'll finish all stories, promise!
stay tuned!