Disclaimer: This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied.
Visit in Shadows
He walked through the halls on stockinged feet, as silent as a thief, though none could have denied him entrance into any room. He faded into the shadows, as barely noticeable as a ghost. Master of the palace and its domain, he nevertheless chose on this night to be as a stranger: unnoticed, unseen, unheard, moving in the depths when all within were trapped in sleep.
He came to his destination, and paused at the entrance, shadowed hands on shadowed wood. Slowly, bit by bit, he edged the sliding door open, so slowly that the slide of wood on wood could barely register to his ear.
Squeezing inside, he closed the door as quietly as he had opened it, then looked around. A single, tiny lamp provided illumination, and he examined the visible contents of the room, before slipping towards the draped canopy set against one of the inner walls.
Light barely penetrated the curtains as he let them fall. He waited until his eyes adjusted again. Gray shadows overlay shadows. The darkest shadow spilled over the lighter in a spreading serpentine of black. One foot stepped onto the cushion of futon and quilt, and then the other. He kneeled, and reached towards the mound under the quilt.
A sudden cry froze him. The mound thrust itself up with a gasp, a pale face snapping around. "Who—what do you want?"
"Izayoi."
Another sharp intake of breath. And then, "F-father?"
… … …
Izayoi had learned many things on her trek, not the least about her son. Even in her sleep, she had learned to tell the difference between a plaint of hunger, and a warning cry. Even exhausted, she slept lightly, though not as lightly as her hanyo son. She had snapped into instant alertness, ready to grab her son and flee, or to freeze, and hide. Now, she struggled to calm her racing heart, as Inuyasha clung to her with tiny, sharp claws digging into her clothing, even as she clutched him tightly to her breast.
It was too dark to see more than his silhouette, and she doubted that he could see more than that, for which she was grateful. Only when she thought she could control her voice did she ask, in a bare whisper, "Why are you here, father?"
He did not answer immediately. When he did, his voice was as soft. "Fortunate is the lord whose heart and mind are in harmony. What the lord must do, and what the father would do, are not the same."
Izayoi breathed deeply as she realized what her father meant, and her eyes stung. "I didn't want to bring trouble to you, papa," she whispered, switching to a less formal term.
He sighed. "Your lord had no allies you could have turned to?"
"None who could stand up to those who would attack any who dared harbor a human and her hanyo son."
A long silence. "Will youkai attack here?"
She considered what she knew. "The rage was mostly directed against my lord," she whispered slowly. "If it is not apparent that his son survives here … the lady abbess Setsuna helped me fashion a charm that hides Inuyasha's youki. It is tied into my reiki: as long as I'm alive..."
"My elder sister has always been clever," he commented drily.
Silence again, broken by his heavy sigh. "You do understand why I cannot acknowledge the existence of your son?"
Even in the darkness, she looked away. "My brother…"
"Only in part. Though you should know, your brother advised me that the 'beast' should be tossed over the wall, and that you should be required to commit seppuku, to cleanse the family's shame."
She could not prevent the small whimper, as he confirmed what she had suspected. "I told him that was the worse advice he could give, and if he were my son, he would never mention such a thing again," he continued. "Would that I had recognized other advice nearly as bad, before I sent him away for training. When he came back, he was what I had thought I wanted—a peerless warrior and captain. But, eventually, I realized the cost of that training…"
"His heart," she whispered. "His laughter."
Fingers touched her cheek in silent regret.
"May I ... hold the boy?"
Izayoi breathed in sharply, startled at the request, and more: stunned at the yearning in his voice. Her hands clutched at the baby, and then loosened. Gently unhooking his fingers from her robe, she learned forward in the darkness and found the other pair of reaching arms. Feeling his hold, she released Inuyasha and stood up. Slipping outside the draperies, she went to the chest and picked up the lamp. Holding it carefully, she went back inside, and sank down beside her father.
What she saw brought a lump to her throat. In the light, she could see them gazing solemnly at each other, the baby's hands around his thumb. Green fire flickered in Inuyasha's pupils as she brought the lamp closer.
"I remember the Inu no Taisho's first visit," her father said. "It was growing dark, and I remember his eyes flickering with that green fire, as he turned his head."
"His eyes are the same as his father's," she said. "But, one night a month, he turns human ... and then his eyes look like yours."
He looked up at her for moment. "I would rather think of it as he has your eyes."
She smiled and nodded. He looked back down at the baby. "His name?" he asked presently.
"Inuyasha."
He let out a soft snort. "Descriptive."
"His father's decision."
He sighed. Reaching out with a finger, he touched the boy's forehead, tracing a figure. His lips moved silently. Then, he shook his head, and carefully touched one tiny ear.
"Such innocence, doomed to suffer for the supposed sins of the parents," he murmured. "And I cannot ease his path: it is all I can do to protect the mother, and that only as long as she makes no demands that might be construed as wanting acknowledgment of where she has been, or what she might have borne."
Izayoi nodded, swallowing down the lump in her throat. "I understand, father."
He laid the baby next to her, and then reached out and snuffed the wick of the tiny candle. "Could I help light the way for the Izayoi who walks a path neither light nor dark, I would," he said. "But, the lord cannot risk the family and clan, to obey the urgings of the father's heart. The lord measures deeds in what best protects all who look to him. The father mourns, that he cannot do more. That he cannot say that he loves his daughter and is proud of her courage. That he cannot proclaim that he has a grandson with golden eyes and silver hair."
His hand touched her head.
"We can only dream we met. My Izayoi."
He slipt away, once again the ghost, the thief in the night. Izayoi sat for long and long after he left, a sleepy, then sleeping Inuyasha held close to her chest, silent tears streaking her cheeks as she went over every word of the visit, not wanting to lose one word of the only evidence she might ever be able to give to her son, that his grandfather was not the cold lord who would never acknowledge his existence.
Cold and chilled, she finally lay down again, pulling the covers high, letting the storm break.
She had returned to the place where she had grown up.
But, she would never truly have returned home.
The End
Author's Note: This piece was written for the prompt "Bad Advice", for the LiveJournal community Inuyasha FanFiction Contest. It was originally posted on January 24, 2012. It took first place. This has been edited slightly for grammar and word choice. (8/18/2012)
An epilog will be added to this story.
