Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha
Authors Note: I once heard that updating is good for the heart. Though I have yet to see any proof!
Observation
It was cloudy and gray, but who cares about the weather as long as it's not raining? Everyday life went on as it always had for the small village. Women carrying pots of water in preparation of the evening meal, the young and old weaving baskets and chattering to the hum of a mother trying to soothe her youngest- it was an all to familiar scene.
There was a small change in the village though.
It may seem unimportant but it was a change nonetheless. Inuyasha had acquired a few more followers to his fan club and thus he was now being, according to him, tortuously stalked. "Shoo! Go back to your mothers if you know what's good for you"! The declaration was heard loud and clear by said mothers who just smiled happily before promptly ignoring the pointed look given to them by the poor half demon. They were clearly amused, he clearly was not.
Kaede, having taken a rest from the days choirs, had decided to sit down and watch village life from the front of her old hut. "Don't tug at them! How would you feel if I grabbed a hold of your ears and stretched them to the heavens?", the noise of giggling children followed Inuyasha like an ever present shadow these days.
She almost felt a little guilty when she saw the way they bothered Inuyasha, but she was happy all the same. People were generally wary of anything and anything who was a bit different from the norm, which was a shame really, seeing how desperately Inuyasha was trying to fit in.
So she had decided to start telling the children stories in the evening after he went to the outskirts of the village to rest. She had gathered them all around in the crammed space by the fire, with the always present tea in hand, and with a raspy voice slowly worn down by time, she told them of the great journey her friends had undertaken. The many obstacles, doubts and battles they had fought and finally the defeat of their enemy.
The children had always been curious, but they had never dared to approach any in the group of heroes currently living in their village. Imagine what a prize it was then to hear if from their old priestess who knew them all very well?
They hushed the youngest ones and sat close together when the chilly wind escaped the narrow crack in Kaedes old worn door. A girl giggled at a boy who had trouble finding a comfy spot. But in the end all was silent when Kaede began to speak, "There was once a demon in the far north-"….
And so it went on. Night after night the story was slowly unfolded revealing much more than her friend would bear to hear without blushing when seeing the looks on the young listeners faces.
But none of them even considered the fact that someone somewhere, five hundred years into the future, was writing the very same story down. In a dusty old book bound in cracked red leather, the words flowed in neat letters. It was the same tale as the one the children were hearing but with different words and perspective. It was her own experience, after all, she was one of the key characters. It was the story of the world forgotten by her own kin, but not by her for she had once lived it.
And she wanted to return.