The Light Inside

Chapter Seven: Nemesis

"Brat," Inuyasha whispered.

The rough sleeve of his kosode scratched my sleepy face. I flitted away his arm in annoyance, turning over on my pallet to face the hut wall.

"Wake up!" the hanyou hissed harshly. "He's already here, and he's brought someone with him."

An additional visitor effectively caught my attention. Bolting upright, I rubbed my eyes quickly to rid myself of any lingering bleariness. Inuyasha was situated across from me, staring at me impatiently in the dim light of the early dawn. Suddenly realizing I myself was clothed only in a loose, flowing white kosode, I grabbed both a simple blue kimono to throw about me and a matching obi to secure the kimono. No matter how long I'd shared my quarters with Inuyasha, my embarrassment at the arrangement refused to subside.

The hanyou stuck his head outside the hut. "She's awake," he muttered.

A deep voice interjected Inuyasha's hushed proclamation with a query. "And Kaede-sama is sufficiently attired for an audience?"

"Yes," Inuyasha confirmed tersely.

Honestly, I was surprised he wasn't already biting my guests' heads off. Surely he hated being asked questions that seemed to him frivolous. Nevertheless, in this particular case, I deeply appreciated the deferent propriety shown to me. It wasn't often the aforementioned respect could be attributed to a sincere admiration instead of an awe stemming from my office as an untouchable miko.

Upon Inuyasha stepping back, in walked the pair of visitors, two men. The first male was someone I was already acquainted with and who happened to be the individual I'd originally invited to the village. A green, lightweight jinbei outfit accentuated his tall, wiry frame. On his feet were a set of waraji, which turned out to be a tad too small for him and exposed the tips of his toes. Around his neck hung a snugly tied red furoshiki carrying what few possessions he'd brought along with him on his journey. His long black hair was slicked back into a tight topknot, revealing a hard-featured, grim face that I knew for a fact had witnessed many bloody battles. After all, despite his plain, peasantlike dress (most likely adopted to deflect attention away from himself while on his way to see me), his real station in life was the honorable profession of taiji-ya.

The second male was a person I'd never laid my one good eye on. He, too, like the taiji-ya, was large in stature and possessed a well-defined physique. His entire head had been shaved clean of any hair and was protected with a mushroom-shaped, woven rice straw gasa. His left ear was pierced with several small gold hoops. He sported a black, wide-sleeved osode under a broad, yellow patterned kesa wrapped over one shoulder. The kesa signified his status as a houshi. Heavily worn waraji actually fit his calloused feet. In his right hand, he carried a shakujou staff with an ornamental head and noise-making rings. Curiously, that same hand had a flap of cloth covering his palm and the back of his hand, secured by a ring over his middle finger, and a piece of heavier material wrapped once around his forearm and tied on the underside of his arm. Wrapped around this bundle of fabric was a ring of Buddhist mala prayer beads. Fleetingly, I wondered what had warranted the houshi to bandage his whole hand.

"Shako, my friend, thank you for coming on such short notice," I welcomed the taiji-ya, bowing deeply to him. "It's been far too long since we've last spoke."

"Yes, nearly two years have passed," Shako replied, a grin radiating his face as he bowed to me in turn. "You were still in training to become a miko."

"And you were getting married," I added warmly, yet not without a tiny pang of regret. At sixteen years old, I myself might've already been a young bride had I not been shackled down by my miko status. "How is your wife? Has she given you any fine sons?"

"Our first boy was born just five months ago."

"May your house soon be blessed with many more sons to carry on the honor of your name," I intoned solemnly.

"Let us hope so," Shako agreed. The soft smile rapidly slipped from his countenance, allowing the profound seriousness of his nature to return in full force. "Kaede-sama, now that we have gotten our greetings out of the way, we should proceed directly to the business at hand." Shako gestured to the houshi beside him. "I present to you Miyatsu. He is someone I believe could assist you in your investigation into your sister's death."

Miyatsu inclined his head toward me slightly and offered no ready words. Instead, it was Inuyasha who swooped down to snatch away Miyatsu's opportunity to talk.

"Taiji-ya, I thought you were the one who was actually supposed to help us. How is a mere houshi going to improve our odds of success?" Inuyasha curtly demanded of Shako.

"I might ask the same of you, hanyou," Shako gritted through his teeth, clearly holding his resentment in check. "I cannot believe such a being could be associated with Kikyo-sama, the very miko with whom I entrusted to purify the Shikon No Tama."

A deep blush of embarrassment permeated my face. In all of the personal visits Shako had paid to me as a token of his friendship since my sister's death, never once had he uttered anything so disrespectful. Of course, he hadn't known about Kikyo consorting with a hanyou while guarding the Shikon No Tama until I disclosed the secret in my latest letter to him. In fact, Shako was the first person I'd even made privy to what Kikyo had done. This very action agonized me, for I knew the taiji-ya would be upset that Kikyo had, in essence, betrayed the trust he'd placed in her ability to protect the jewel from yokai.

Still, I risked Shako's displeasure due to the fact that he'd found the Shikon No Tama before handing it over to Kikyo and was therefore my only link to discovering more about the mysterious jewel. Furthermore, his profession of taiji-ya brought him into contact with countless types of yokai. Perhaps he would have an idea as what kind of youkai had killed my sister. Fortunately, Shako cam in spite of Inuyasha, because the taiji-ya recognized the greater need for obtaining justice against the heartless yokai who murdered a miko in cold blood. Would even the high-minded Shako become ensnared in Inuyasha's web of pettiness, thereby distracting us from working together toward a common goal?

Oddly enough, Miyatsu turned out to be the one who diffused the situation. "Please, friends, let us not bicker amongst ourselves," he suggested in an amiable tone. "Surely we can all agree that it is dangerously self-deprecating to speak judgmentally of Kikyo-sama's private affairs when we are here to avenge the honor of her memory at the request of her very own sister. No matter what mistakes Kikyo-sama may or may not have committed in life, she didn't deserve the cruel demise she suffered."

Although both Shako and Inuyasha flushed with anger, they held their tongues. For now, a tentative truce had been struck between the two potential antagonists. I was eternally grateful to the unusual hoshi. In most cases, holy men would be quick to condemn my sister's questionable deeds. Did Miyatsu's unexpected compassion reveal a possible clandestine love affair of his own?

"What information do you have to share with us?" I inquired quietly.

The houshi smiled ruefully and held up his bandaged hand after switching the shakujou staff to his other hand. My eye was instinctively drawn to the fluid motion.

"I am cursed, and the kazaana in my hand is proof of it," Miyatsu announced without any emotion whatsoever in his voice.

A human with a kazaana? Before this point, I'd only heard of a certain few high-level yokai bearing kazaanas, so it was a true rarity to stumble upon a human with one. A kazaana could be an exceptionally deadly weapon under the control of the mere human, never mind a yokai. Why, even the houshi, who obviously already enjoyed vigorous spiritual talents in his own right, would be raised to a footing equal with many mighty yokai as the result of his kazaana.

"Already, the kazaana widens," Miyatsu continued. "Soon, I cannot tell when, it will swallow me up, along with everything near me, unless the powerful yokai that bestowed me with it is destroyed first. He's only growing stronger and stronger by stealing sacred objects and killing holy men. I've already fought him five times over the past several years. Each time I battled with him, he was disguised in a different form."

"A different form? This yokai can transform at will?" Inuyasha questioned, a strained expression haunting his wary face. I felt it safe to guess that his mind, like mine, was devising a terrifying hunch as to how this yokai might fit into the framework of my sister's death.

Miyatsu nodded gravely. "I was able to drive him back four times, though I could not totally defeat him. The fifth and last time that I crossed paths with him was about a year ago. He was cunningly disguised as a noblewoman. I recognized him too late, for he appealed to my manhood's unquenchable desire of that fair sex."

No carefully chosen words could disguise Miyatsu's real meaning: he was a lecher, which was a weakness for the yokai to exploit and pave the way for his undoing. Now I knew for sure why he had not denounce Kikyo's character. He would've been a hypocrite for doing so.

"The yokai escaped yet again, piercing the sacred scrolls I threw at him…piercing my hand. From the instant my hand was pierced, the kazaana was born. Any sons I beget will be cursed as well." Miyatsu glanced at Shako, Inuyasha, and me, something indescribable crossing his features. "Having been defeated five times, I realize that I need allies, or I won't be able to spare my future sons the fate I must submit to."

"Yours is a touching story, houshi-sama," I declared somberly, "but are we allies in common? Has this yokai you speak of wronged me?"

The houshi moved toward me, placing his hands gently over mine. Gazing into my eyes, he remained silent for a moment. My heart beat faster in response, and I dreaded finally hearing what I had been simultaneously longing to discover about my sister's death: who her killer was.

"Kaede-sama, I have learned from the yokai himself that he'd made a bold attempt for the Shikon No Tama six years ago. In the process, he killed the miko protecting it. His name is….Naraku."