Chapter 12: The Fresh and New
Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha.
Thank you so much for the lovely reviews! They keep me writing, so keep 'em coming. :)
And another 'thank you' to Kate for being such a cool beta.
Be careful of the curse that falls on young lovers.
Starts so soft and sweet and turns them into hunters.
-"Howl" by Florence and the Machine
Sesshoumaru heaved an internal sigh as impatient grumbling started up around the table. When a low sub-sonic warning growl rippled through the air around them, he shot his brother a look, and the growl begrudgingly died, though Inuyasha's black scowl did not. "My apologies. My nephew was finishing up a job when you decided to call this impromptu meeting," he deliberated, somehow managing to keep his lip from curling up in cold indignation.
"We gave you an hour's notice, Lord Sesshoumaru," one of the bolder youkai reminded him, before falling silent when the taisho's piercing and unwavering gaze fell upon him.
"Mm. Yes," he responded after he'd sufficiently subdued the youkai. "And as generous an advance as it was, I'm afraid that a murderous, rebellious youkai holds precedence to even you gentlemen."
There was an offended sniff, and Inuyasha met the chilled grey eyes across from him and glared back, daring the falcon youkai to say something about his son's tardiness.
"You certainly would have us believe that, wouldn't you?" Yagami asked him without tearing his eyes away from Inuyasha's. A cold and tense silence fell across the table, and the hanyou's eyebrows shot up in incredulous shock at the brazen and sarcastic remark.
It was a long, long moment before Sesshoumaru responded with a tight and deadly, "I beg your pardon?"
Chuckling under his breath, his brother shook his head. "Well, fuck, Yagami… When did you decide to dip those shriveled old balls of yours in brass?"
With a sneer of distaste, the elder youkai ignored him and focused his attention on the great Inu no Taisho, pursing his lips as he struggled for contrite respect.
"I merely mean, my Lord, that there has been no lead in the atrociously named 'Lullaby Slayings' in well over two months. And now that there may finally be some activity, you have your head investigator off dabbling with inconsequential and petty crimes that any one of his task force could very well solve themselves in a matter of minutes. And he's been gone for how long now?"
"Petty?" Inuyasha bit out, rising to his feet before the cool fingers shot out to ensnare his arm like iron bands. He looked angrily at Sesshoumaru before gesturing rudely at the youkai. "Fucking…petty? You are a bastard and a half, you fucking old bird. Four people are dead. Petty?"
"Calm yourself, Inuyasha. Yagami is clearly misinformed and over-tired, or he would not dare to question my orders. Isn't that right, Yagami?"
The elaborate mahogany door opened then, and Sesshoumaru's infatuated secretary ushered Hiroshi into the room now focused on him, closing the doors behind him after he nodded his thanks.
"Ah, sorry for the wait. I didn't receive the text until twenty minutes ago." He ignored the irritated frowns all directed toward him and graced them with a friendly enough smile. "I trust you all have been too busy inflicting mental tortures upon me to be overly bored."
"You smell like blood, pup. Trouble?" Inuyasha eyed the sword hanging from his hip—proof that the young and careful hanyou had been in a hurry, since he hadn't bothered to deposit it back in his car.
With a glance at his father, he reached his chair and carefully removed and set aside Gintsume so that he could sit. "The target doubled back to the scene after I sent Takeo and Asa after him. I handled the situation. Now… I assume this meeting was called because of the photos released to the media?" Without waiting for an answer, he opened the file in his hands and removed the stack of enlarged photos it held.
"Indeed. We were wondering how something like this could happen under the watch of the Inu no Taisho and his own."
Hiroshi observed the woman that had spoken—an elderly and mild-mannered earth youkai who was friendly enough outside of this office. "I assure you, they are not our photos. We can only assume, then, that they were taken by the very men we're after." He spread the photos on the table before him and said nothing when a few of the youkai reached out to grab one and examine it.
There were simultaneous gasps of horror and disgust, and the earth youkai thrust the photo she held across the table, away from her.
"They're screenshots," he informed them. "Though the angles may vary depending on the position of the victim, every single one of these photographs is taken from the same height despite the constant change in youkai and hanyou. This confirms what we already knew—this is an organization of some sort, a collaborated effort." He tapped a claw on the desk and watched his father's face, already dreading his reaction as he prepared to reveal his latest discovery. "…It also means that they use a tripod and film each murder."
There was another murmur of discomfort among the older youkai, and Yagami the falcon spoke up—eyes and voice sharp. "And what, exactly, do you believe the purpose of this to be?"
"I believe they are trying to instill fear among the masses. Ghost stories go a long way to escalate their brutal reputation. The release of those stills was nothing more than a shocking reminder meant to terrify. People had heard the stories and read the papers, but they'd never actually seen what they were doing to their victims. I fear they will eventually resort to spreading the actual video footage. With limitless video sharing sites at their disposal, it wouldn't be that difficult, and the results could be…devastating, to say the least."
At his uncle's nod, Hiro took his seat at his father's side.
"And your plan to remedy the situation?"
"We have our most experienced and reliable men trying to track the photos' origins," Rei informed them. "But at this point, there is unfortunately not much to go on. If we can follow this to an actual lead, then it will be through sheer luck on our part and sheer stupidity on theirs."
"I see," Yagami stated, finally setting aside the grotesque screenshot he held. "I do hope—should this lead to another series of murders—that your hounds will learn to better conduct their affairs in order to actually put an end to this."
"His hounds?" Inuyasha hissed at his son, who could only sigh and offer his father an empathetic half-smile. No more than five minutes had passed, and everyone's feathers were ruffled, hackles raised, and fifty minutes later, when the meeting came to an edgy conclusion with no real resolution, the tension was only exacerbated. The council members were becoming increasingly restless and bolder and made many faux-innocent insinuations of Sesshoumaru's incompetence until even Inuyasha was offended for his asshole-brother and Rei was barely managing to suppress his quieting growls.
Ultimately, though, no one was brave enough to actually step forward and insult the Taisho or accuse him of anything to his face. And it was this disquieting affect and respect that he commanded that—while shaken—was not yet gone altogether. And once it was, Sesshoumaru decided rising to his feet and dismissing those cowards, then he would simply remind them what he was made of.
That's all there was to it.
People tended to dismiss him more easily behind his back now that the Feudal Era had passed and he was more agreeable with politics, but it wasn't until he was standing before them, proud and unbowed and oh-so-deadly that they swallowed their careless words and fell to their knees before him.
This lack of respect was irritating, but not overly worrying or taxing.
"I can't believe you just sat there and took their shit," Inuyasha informed him as they, too, left the board room.
"Hm," Sesshoumaru mused glancing with disinterest at the hanyou. "And I cannot believe you flashed your claws and told them to 'grow some damn balls and step forward if they think they can do a better job.' …Nevermind. It is not so difficult to believe after all." He smirked when his brother snorted.
"Yeah, yeah. And you're welcome. It's not every day I get to come to your rescue and treat you like the damsel-in-distress that you are." He laughed as deadly growls rumbled around him.
"This Sesshoumaru is hardly a damsel-in-distress, you two-bit cur."
"Sure." He winked at Rei, who grinned and shook his head. "Oi, pup—you and Eri still coming for dinner tomorrow? You sounded kind of iffy over the phone the other night."
"Ah, yes. We will. I think Eri has some news, anyway."
There was an undignified, but not unhappy snort from his father, and Inuyasha, sometimes more perceptive than he was given credit for, lifted a brow as a smug smirk tilted his lips. "Is that right?"
With a chuckle, Hiroshi clapped his cousin on the back with a spotless hand that still smelled of blood. "Congrats, Rei. You told Hana yet?"
"We told her a few days ago, after I smelled it. Oi—don't tell Kagome or the others. Eri would kill me if she didn't get to tell them about the pup. Kill. In fact, can you just…pretend to be surprised at dinner tomorrow?"
Inuyasha's rolling eyes were undermined by his grin. "Sure thing, pup."
"Are you sure about this?"
Hiroshi made a show of considering his options, before responding, "You know, you're right. Let's turn around and go get the jeep so that I can drop you off at your empty apartment. I'd much rather enjoy the company and food provided by my family without your imposing presence—ow." He reflexively rubbed the undamaged spot on his arm that she'd punched.
"Jerk," she grouched, trying to soothe her hair into some semblance of order as they continued to walk down the beaten path through the woods. "Your sarcasm has been noted. Who wouldn't want to enjoy my presence?" she teased, grinning up at him as he shoved his hands into his pockets.
His arm bumped against her shoulder. "Who, indeed?"
"But I mean… Hmm… What if they know?"
He looked confused. "What if they know?" he repeated.
"Then they'll know," she moaned, grabbing at her face with both hands, mortified. "Mimi will spend the entire night rubbing it in my face—oh God! And the jokes Kannon will make…"
"Hey," he murmured with a smile and another shoulder bump, "reign in that imagination before you work yourself into a frenzy, hm? If you don't want them to know, then don't tell them. It's not a big deal if you're not ready. Besides—I'm pretty sure that tonight's dinner isn't going to be focused on us."
She stopped just before they'd stepped out of the trail and into the clearing that his parents' house was settled in.
"How do I look?" she asked, picking at the pink cotton summer dress she donned, and he couldn't help but be further endeared to her by her newfound nervousness.
"You look beautiful—as always. And would you relax? How many times have you eaten dinner with my parents?"
She stamped an agitated foot and flung her arms in a childish manner. "I know. I don't know why it feels like I'm meeting them for the first time. …I'm sorry. Just give me a second to calm down." She finally peeked up at him through her bangs. "And thank you for the compliment. You look pretty dashing, yourself. As always."
"You know, I've had several women tell me that. However, when coming from your mouth, I find it more acceptable."
The look she gave him told him she was distinctly un-amused. "You're so funny," she informed him dryly.
"However, you are the first woman to tell me that."
"I can only imagine."
With a gentle smile, he leaned down to press his lips against her forehead, breath stirring bangs. "Come on, Jules. We'll be late if I allow you to stay here long enough to list all of my positive attributes."
She smiled sweetly and looped her arm through his, effectively pulling him into the clearing after her. "I'm sure we'll already be a little late just trying to squeeze that ego of yours through the doorframe."
"Don't worry. My uncle should be along shortly. He'll be more than willing to list some of my shortcomings and shrink it back down to a manageable size."
She fell silent at his side as the continued toward the warm yellow house, a few cars parked in the driveway now. "What about Miroku?"
"He'll be here, too. Later, though. He's working late tonight."
"No—I mean, when do we tell him? You know, about us?"
He sent her an incredulous glance. "What do you mean, when? I already told him—he's Miroku. Was I not supposed to?"
She looked surprised, but not unhappy. "No, no—I'm glad you told him. What did he say?"
The hanyou snorted and smiled. "Something along the lines of 'Bout damn time,' but I believe he was predicting what my father would say."
With a giggle, she reached over to pluck a snagged leaf from his hair. "So…he's okay with it then?
"I think he's suspected for a while… Why wouldn't he be okay with it?"
"He's your best friend, Hiro. I just don't want to be seen as the Yoko Ono of this friendship." She looked horrified for a second before she whirled around to grasp his shirt. "We absolutely cannot cancel Friday night Halo. I will not be the Yoko Ono of this friendship, Hiroshi Takenawa."
With a snort, he pried her fingers from shirt and looped them through his arm again, pulling her forward. "I wouldn't dream of putting that on you, you drama queen."
They had just opened the door, when a tiny foot flew out of nowhere making contact with Hiroshi's shin before giggles filled the air and the perpetrator—an all-too-pleased Hana—hid behind Julia's legs, depending on the surprised human to protect her from Big Bad Hiro.
"Ah—You've done it now, Hana" he growled with a smirk at the face peeking around Julia's hip. He began to prowl towards them as Julia held her arms out to keep him at bay and steered them into the house.
"Run, Hana!"
With a squeal, the little girl propelled herself away from the woman's legs and ran to find Kannon, her next shield. Hiroshi looked amused as he continued to prowl in their direction, the girl now disappearing into the living room and Julia still blocking his path.
"You really think you can stop me?"
"Well, I can certainly try. You're not so tough, Hiro," she challenged, even as Hana snuck her head back around the corner.
"Oh, really. This is interesting. Considering it took me how long to bend you over that count—"
"Ugh. You never let things go, do you?"
There was a childish shriek that announced Hana's arrival as she launched herself at Hiroshi a second time, collapsing in giggles when he caught both her and a shocked Julia, bringing them both to the floor with merciless tickling. "What do you say?" was his smooth question.
"Stop, stop," Julia was crying, laughing, trying to ineffectively push a relentless hand from her stomach.
He shook his head with a smug grin, "That's not what you say. Tell her what to say, Hana."
"My Daddy's gonna kick your ass, Hiro!" the little girl managed to choke, still trying to wiggle out of his grasp.
"That's certainly not what you say."
Julia was still batting at his hand, still laughing, still gasping. "I'm going to throw up, Hiro!"
He finally pulled his hands away. "You need to learn to pick your battles."
She sat up with a glare, wiping the tears from her eyes. "You'll learn to pick yours after I kick you between the legs," she shot back, and he chuckled, wrapping his arms around the young youkai when she flung herself at him, tickling him back.
"Mercy! Mercy!" he cried out after a few moments, feigning distress, and the five year old pulled her hands away with a smug and victorious grin.
"You said it, Hiro, and I didn't."
"So I did. You're pretty tough, hm?" He looked up to see his stunned mother starring at the three of them on the floor of the entry way, his father and Rei behind her, looking more than amused.
"Hana told me you were going to kick my ass," was the first thing he said, lips quirked into a smirk directed at Rei. "I'm strangely not worried in the slightest."
"Yes, well… I don't think that's necessary any longer, seeing as my five year old daughter just schooled you. Hey, Julia," he greeted with a smile, which she returned, laughing after he offered his encouragement to fulfill her threat to kick his cousin in the balls.
"I guess someone's in a good mood, huh, pup?" Kagome laughed over her shoulder at her husband, and turned to watch Hiroshi lift himself to his feet, and setting Hana back on the floor as Julia rose to her feet as well.
"It's good to see you cutting loose, sweetie," the miko told him, leaning up to kiss his cheek before turning to the ruffled girl. "I'm fully inclined to believe that his good mood is your doing, Julia. And you look lovely as ever. How's the filming coming along?"
Before Kagome could lead her away to talk some more, Julia jabbed a sharp elbow into the ribs of her romantic interest with a pleasant smile even as he winced away from her. "That's for pulling that stunt while I'm in a dress, you jerk."
Rei laughed as she waltzed away after the miko, talking of enchanted mirrors and one of the dwarves that was just a complete and arrogant bully.
"She certainly seems capable of handling herself," his cousin told him at last, trying not to laugh.
"She'll need to if she's going to hang around Kannon," Inuyasha grunted. "Some of the stuff I caught that pup telling her…" He sighed and shook his head, even as Hiroshi seemed to bristle with surprise, concern, and anger before him.
"Do I need to talk to him?"
His father laughed at the seriousness in his tone. "Nah, pup. I just whopped him. Most of the stuff seemed to be about you, anyway."
"Is that supposed to make me feel better? He's a degenerate, Father—"
"Just a friend, he says," Inuyasha muttered over his shoulder to Rei, and the youkai tried and failed to stifle his own entertainment.
"Why do I have a feeling that all of those 'whipped' jokes he cracks about me and Eri are about to become really ironic?"
The hanyou managed to control and prevent his blush, and with a frown, pushed past them into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. "I'm afraid that any aspect of a relationship I may have couldn't possibly remove my spine so completely as yours with Eri. Where's Kannon?" he asked, ears perking when he heard the women laughing in the living room.
"Seducing Julia, I'm sure," Rei drawled sarcastically before the front door opened and his parents entered with Shippou and Rin trailing behind them.
All-in-all, it was a good Friday night. Everyone was too happy at the prospect of Eri and Rei's second child. The dinner had been fantastic and familiar and comforting, and even as Julia walked back to Hiro's arm-in-arm with both of the young hanyou for another weekly round of Halo, she felt like she had a real and large family. Like she was a part of their family. One that was quirky, and had dinner together for no reason, and holidays that had no mishaps, and mothers that still remembered their daughters and fathers that weren't neglectful, gambling addicted, alcoholic assholes. A family so full of love that maybe they could share just a little of that with her.
And then she felt guilty and reminded herself that she needed to eat lunch with Jackson soon—maybe tomorrow, and visit their mother.
In the now quiet kitchen, Kagome and Inuyasha stood shoulder to shoulder at the sink washing dishes in companionable silence. But the hanyou was only too aware that Kagome could only go so long without talking. He hid his smirk when, a minute later, she broke that silence.
"Tonight was nice, wasn't it?"
"Sure, wench. The food wasn't bad either."
"Yeah?" She smiled and handed him another plate to dry and set aside. "I'll have to keep the recipe then. It was easy to make. Oh, that reminds me—I'm going to get all of the girls together to take Eri out to lunch soon to celebrate. I'm going to call up Ayame, too."
"So I'm going to have to see Kouga soon? Well, fuck. There goes my good mood."
It had been years and years since the old Northern Taisho had moved his medical practice back to the North, staying in Tokyo long enough to make sure the new taisho—Ronin, the Wolf Prince, could make it without him. "Oh, I'd forgotten how much I missed this half-hearted 'I hate that mangy wolf' act. It's almost as interesting and fresh as the 'I hate that frigid, stuck-up asshole' act," she told him deprecatingly, and he glared at her.
"But still not quite as predictable as your inevitable stumble and fall routine in the face of practically every youkai we faced during the first two years of travelling together—" he ignored her outraged gasp with a wicked smirk. "And do you know how many youkai we faced during those first two years? A fuckin' lot."
She splashed him in retaliation, sniffing petulantly when he leapt away, now laughing at her.
"Come on, 'Gome. You know I'm joking. Well, I wasn't lying—you did trip over everything, but I wasn't saying it was a bad thing. …Though it's not really something to pride yourself—"
"—Ugh! Just stop talking, you baka. …And I'll have you know that when giant, enormous youkai crash into the ground only feet away from you, the earth tends to shake pretty violently.
"Sure, Kagome." He winked at her, and she tweaked his ear half-heartedly with an irritatingly soapy hand, leaving it flicking after her touch. "Bitch."
"Ass."
They began finishing up the dishes in companionable silence yet again, and yet again, Kagome was the one to break that silence after only a matter of minutes.
"Hiroshi's been acting different lately. Have you noticed?"
Inuyasha watched her from the corner of his eye and nodded once. "A little, yeah. I think it's the girl—Julia."
"I know it is. Did you see him when he came in tonight? There was something different about the way he played with Hana. I can't put my finger on it, but it just seemed more…"
"Relaxed? Natural? Yeah, wench, I noticed."
"I just don't know whether to be relieved or worried. And I feel horrible for even questioning it." She handed him the last plate and reached for a dishtowel to dry her hands, fidgeting nervously for a while. "Do you think he's…I don't know, putting too much on her? What if things don't work out? What if they stop being friends?"
"What if they don't? Come on, Kagome, don't make me be the optimist for once—it's not normal," he teased wrapping an arm around her to settle under her breast. "Hiro's strong and smart—you know as well as I do that he's going to be fine."
"Yeah… Okay." She smiled over her shoulder letting go of the dishtowel when she felt his lips on her temple. "I'm just a worrier by nature, I suppose."
88888888888
Nearly a month later, Julia had found herself so caught up in the shooting, that she'd barely been able to spend time with even Hiroshi, let alone Kimiko and the others, so when she saw the silver-headed pixie working all her charms on the director one night just before dinner-time, she had to do a double-take.
The girl was grinning from ear to ear as she leaned up on her tip-toes to place a grateful kiss on his cheek, and the grouchy old director could only blush and grumble and motion to the others that they could wrap it up for the night.
Julia's jaw dropped as Mimi waved her over excitedly. "What a sweet man he is!" she informed the actress before grabbing her hand and ushering her away. "That was much easier than I expected—"
It had taken some convincing and even bribing on Julia's part to keep her friend from dragging her off to go dancing, and instead take her to her house to watch movies and play games. This was acceptable only after Julia promised to go dancing with her the upcoming Saturday.
And now she sat across from Mimi on the floor of their warm living room, Inuyasha watching them and the news from his position on the couch. She felt weird being off set in her thick stage makeup and instinctively tried to wipe some of it away with the back of her hand before catching herself.
Inuyasha snickered, but tried to hide it by staring at the television as some sitcom began and he grew bored. His mate was still at work, as was Hiro. And Kannon was on his way back from a 'study session'—like he really bought that—and was bringing a few pizzas with him.
"You like pizza, right?" he asked finally, breaking into their boring real-estate board game that even they were quickly tiring of as the hour passed.
Julia looked up after rolling her die and nodded. "Love it."
He grunted, settling back on the couch. "Good."
She moved her silver shoe, and Mimi rolled the die, moving her dog and forking over some money with a grumble.
"So…" he addressed his daughter. "How was swim practice today?"
"Cold and way too early, as always. How was work?"
"I didn't have to talk to your tight-ass uncle, so it was a good day."
Mimi giggled, and pushed the board away in frustration. "Do we have to finish this game?" she asked her friend, voice pitched to a miserable whine. "I always forget how it seems to just drag on and on and on. I don't have the attention span for this game."
"No one has the attention span for this game," Julia agreed, setting to work on putting the game back in its box before settling back on her hands. "Thanks for breaking me out early, Mimi."
The girl grinned back. "Now that I know I can do it, expect a lot more free-time."
"I don't think this is something we should do too often. We're on a schedule."
"Oi," Inuyasha called, nodding at the television.
Both of the girls whipped their heads up to see that the hanyou had just turned it to an entertainment channel, where the latest movie and celebrity gossip could be found. And there was a picture of none other than Julia herself, unaware and in her on-set makeup, talking to Daiki, the actor opposite her. "…an unknown identified by sources as Julia Braden. Other than a few commercials and plays, she seems to have no experience in the movie industry. But she's certainly got the face for it. Sources say that this remake of a classic fairytale is currently set to be released to theatres next summer…"
With a squeal, Mimi launched herself at her speechless friend, knocking her back to the floor. "This is so exciting! I know a famous person! Can I have your autograph?"
Julia was still too stunned to speak and sat up in time to see Inuyasha rewind and record the short segment for Kagome and Hiro to see. "You can show the rest of 'em when they get here," he told her, lips quirking. "Not bad, Jules," he told her—his highest praise.
"Thank you… I still can't believe…" She looked at the television again before shaking her head. "It's too surreal right now. I mean, I've always loved the story. Now I'm playing the main character, and my picture was just on TV as Snow White…"
"So you like fairytales, hm?"
"Well… I'm only really familiar with the popular ones, but yes."
"Keh," he muttered with a wan smile. "I s'pose everyone does, don't they? …Christ, when is Kannon gonna get here with the food? I'm starving. Fuckin' ate the last of the ramen, too…" he was grumbling, a petulant child.
Julia only smiled at him. There was once a time when he scared her, but over the past year she had grown more and more comfortable with his surly nature and gruff sweetness.
Sitting Indian-style beside her, Kimiko leaned forward to prop her elbows on her knees, letting her face rest on her balled fists. "He'll be here soon. Tell the story of the Shikon no Tama," she suggested with an innocent grin. "It will help pass the time."
"Are you still on about that?" Inuyasha muttered. "How many times have you heard that story, Mimi?"
"But it's my favorite," she pointed out plaintively. "And Julia's never heard it—or at least heard you tell it."
"Mimi—"
"Papa, please," she tried one more time, and Inuyasha hid his wistful smile when he remembered how she would beg for the same story once a week years and years ago. And now she was growing up, and went to stupid things like parties and on—ugh—dates with stupid bastards. Yet here she sat on the thick carpet at his feet, looking up at him with all the excitement she'd held as a pup.
Of course he caved. There was really never any doubt that he'd relay the story with all the gusto he ever had the moment she'd first asked him to. And sometimes… sometimes it was nice to pretend she'd never grown up and never would grow up.
"Alright, alright. Can't believe you're not sick of it already," he grouched, relenting, and Julia saw his smile even as he rolled his eyes at her ensuing cheer. Then amber fell on the woman. "You got time for a story, Julia?"
"Only always," she assured him, and he snorted, settling back against the couch with an absent smirk.
"Alright then. It's a long one, but I'll see if I can shorten it." He was already editing the story in his mind, reminding himself to drop all names. "Have you ever heard of this story? Or the Shikon no Tama?" He seemed satisfied when she shook her head. "Usually Kagome helps me tell it, but I guess I'll give it a go alone…"
"Once upon a time, there was a powerful sacred jewel called the Shikon no Tama, which attracted evil like flies on shit," he began, and Julia bit her cheek to keep from smiling at the colorful description. "It was said to be able to grant any wish, but unless the wish was pure and selfless, nothing good could come of it. Of course, there aren't that many selfless wishes to make, and anyone that wanted it, wanted it for selfish reasons. It was guarded by a young and lonely miko, who would destroy any youkai that would come for it and the power it held." He paused, quirking an eyebrow when he noticed that Julia actually had her hand raised. He suppressed a snort. "…Yeah?"
"Er, I know what a miko is," she told him with an embarrassed and apologetic shrug, "and I've heard of youkai before, but I'm still not exactly sure… Are they just…monsters?"
He frowned, brow furrowing as he thought of a way to explain the term while Kimiko just grinned and grinned. "I suppose some of them were nothing more than monsters. I…hm." He discovered that it was almost as difficult as defining the word 'the' for him. It could be difficult to define a word that is so familiar and ingrained in one's life. "Mimi, help me out."
And the young hanyou was all-too-happy to come to his rescue. "Some call them demons. But it's more accurate to call them spirits, I suppose. Or magical beings," she explained for him before turning back to him with an encouraging and expectant smile, and he gave her a nod.
"Right."
"So…they're like ghosts," Julia concluded, doubtful, and Mimi shook her head with a smile.
"Let's just call them guardians," she decided. "Like I said-they're spirits, demons, or even animals that can take a human form. At least, the more powerful ones can, anyway." She bit her lip, looking to her father for support. "Hiro's better at explaining these things than I am… Let me think of what he'd say if you asked him." She was silent for a moment before she straightened her back proudly and regarded her friend with a faux-serious expression that reduced her to giggles. Trying to deepen her voice, Mimi mimicked—"We'll use inu youkai as an example. A spirit manifests itself into something akin to the animal, but far more superior—a minor deity of the species. It is powerful enough to shape-shift and take a humanoid form. …Did I get the voice right?"
Julia laughed and shook her head before turning her attention back to Inuyasha. "Alright—I think I've got it now. …Sorry for the interruption."
He waved her apology away with a relaxed and dismissive hand, trying to remember where he'd left off. "So this miko kept the jewel safe from all the youkai that would take it and become all-powerful and rule the world and shit. Anyway, one day she met a young inu hanyou—"
"He means half-human, half-inu youkai," Mimi informed her under her breath.
"—Who wanted the jewel so that he could became a full-blooded youkai, leaving behind his human mother's blood and all human weakness. Of course, the miko wouldn't let him have it, but she wasn't frightened by him either. She ended up becoming his first friend, and they came to an agreement. The miko, who was tired of protecting the jewel, would give it to the hanyou if he would wish to become human, so that they could spend their days together and live normal lives."
"Don't worry," Kimiko bubbled happily at her side. "It doesn't happen."
"…Is that a good thing?"
"Well, duh. You haven't met the second miko yet," she told her as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Don't spoil it," Julia hissed back before realizing Inuyasha was staring at them pointedly.
"You want me to tell the story or not?" He seemed slightly mollified by their quick nods, and folded his arms over his chest as he leaned back into the sofa. "…Alright then. But on the night before the wish was to be made, an evil hanyou entered the scene. He had once been a human bandit that was badly burned in a fire and left to die in a cave. However, the miko had taken pity on him when no one else would, and doctored him in the cave. He lusted after her, and offered his broken body to a horde of youkai so that he could become a hanyou and have both the priestess and the Shikon no Tama. The night before the wish was suppose to be made, he disguised himself as the other hanyou and attacked the miko, who believed that her friend had betrayed her for the jewel. Injured, angry…dying, she tracked the inu hanyou down as he was coming to see her, and with a sacred arrow, she pinned him against the tree, sealing him so that he wasn't dead or alive—just…there. The dying miko asked to be burned with the jewel, and the evil hanyou wasn't able to have either."
Julia distractedly rubbed a strand of the carpet beneath her. "That's…really depressing."
The hanyou shrugged, offered her a small smirk. "It wouldn't be a true story if some bad things didn't happen. Anyway, it has a pretty happy ending," he assured her. "Mimi wouldn't like it if it didn't. …Also, it's about to become hella confusing. Just go with it." With a thoughtful nod, he pressed on:
"About five hundred and fifty years later, a fifteen year old girl was suddenly sucked down a well by the discarded and resurrected remains of a long-dead youkai—I know, just go with it," he told her again, when her brow furrowed as she tried to process it. "Anyway, she was pulled into the past, fifty years after the hanyou had been sealed by the miko. When she climbed out of the well, she realized it wasn't the same place it had been when she'd first fallen in."
"Think of Alice in Wonderland," Mimi told her. "Like when Alice falls down the rabbit hole and finds herself in another world."
"Uh, right. So this girl—she was scared, and lost, and unsure of what to do or where to go, when she stumbled upon the sleeping hanyou pinned to a sacred tree. The youkai that had pulled her into the well to begin with—an ugly-ass centipede youkai—found her. Turns out that she was the reincarnation of the first miko, and the jewel was hidden inside her body. Before she could be killed, the hanyou woke up and told her to free him if she wanted to live. And she did. Using powers she didn't realize she had, she destroyed the sacred arrow in his heart and freed him. He killed the youkai—but not before it had torn the jewel from her body—"
"He then proceeded to try to kill said poor miko," came the playfully chastising voice of his mate as she waltzed into the living room, dropping her purse on the empty armchair as she entered still wearing her lab coat over her work clothes.
"Yeah, well…" Inuyasha grouched, "he wasn't really trying to kill her. If he'd really been trying, she would have died."
"And then the story wouldn't have a happy ending at all, now, would it?" Her eyes laughed at him as she kicked off her shoes. "Regardless, his attempts to kill her came to a permanent end when the first miko's little sister—an old woman by now—made a set of enchanted prayer beads for this new miko to tame him with—"
"Fucking annoying things that they are," he muttered with a hint of fondness. He felt Julia's eyes on him and, clearing his throat, released the beads around his neck that he'd automatically reached for.
"Anytime the hanyou got out of hand, she was able to physically subdue him with a single command. …I suppose it was rather cruel, but she was young and scared, and he was young and hurt. You see, this reincarnation bore a striking resemblance to the old miko that betrayed and pinned him—" She shed her coat and hung it over the chair before making her way to the couch to press a kiss into his forehead. Stretching out beside him, she propped her feet up in his lap and closed her eyes with a "mm" when Inuyasha grabbed one, absently massaging as he continued with the story.
"Well, the hanyou figured out pretty fucking quick that other than looks, the two mikos weren't that similar."
"I wouldn't say he figured it out that quickly," Kagome teased, and Inuyasha shot her a half-hearted glare.
"Well," he told her pointedly, "he had a lot of time to figure that out after the miko shattered the jewel into a hundred pieces—"
"—Accidentally, of course—"
"Which each shot out in separate directions all over the whole goddamned country of Japan."
Kagome nudged a rib with a hard toe in retaliation, but her mate only grabbed that foot and set to rubbing it, as well. "The shards were lusted after by power-hungry humans, youkai, and hanyou alike, and a lot of innocent blood was being shed over them, so the miko, who could sense them better than anyone else, knew she had to set out to rebuild the jewel. But she was a young and silly untrained miko in a violent and unfamiliar world. She knew she couldn't do it alone if she even could at all."
"The hanyou, who also lusted after the completed jewel, decided to join her so that he could wish to become a youkai after."
Julia was completely entranced. She'd never before heard a fairytale sound so…familiar and informal and interesting—like a lovers' 'how-we-met' story, complete with finishing each other's sentences. It just worked with this story. Beside her, Mimi had repositioned herself on the floor, so that she was lying with her head resting on Julia's thigh as she listened.
"It didn't take her long to realize that the hanyou was—"
"—A strong, brave, virile ass-kicking machine," he finished with a smirk at his mate.
"Virile, huh?" she asked before winking at the entertained girls on the floor. "Actually, you baka, I was going to say a rude, stubborn, arrogant jerk."
"And it didn't take him long to realize that she was a crazy, bossy, outspoken, and happy miko, who, for reasons he couldn't understand, always saw the best in everyone—regardless of their heritage. She did what the first miko could never do—accepted the hanyou as he was."
Kagome was smiling at him, watching his face as he stared ahead, unseeing and lost in memories. "She was able to see through his gruff manner. She knew that he was lonely and distrusting because he'd been hurt and let down so many times. Of course they became fast friends, though it took a while for the hanyou to admit he cared for her. It didn't take long for the miko long to fall in love with him."
"She helped him find his inheritance—a great and powerful sword left to him by his Old Man, who had died when he was a pup—a baby," he clarified. "She showed him how to use it. He'd been unable to—"
"—Until he promised to protect her from his cold youkai half-brother, the Inu no Taisho—the great Prince of Dogs and Lord of the West. The sword—first wielded by their father who had fallen in love with a human hime, the hanyou's mother—was meant to protect humans."
"The hanyou was able to wield the Great Fang after that, while the uppity taiyoukai—who hated humans and hanyou—couldn't even touch it. Pissed his brother off," he told them with a grin before thoughtfully adding, "The frigid asshole."
Kagome laughed, and turned a gentle smile upon her son's friend. "And then they began to build their gang of friends—their family."
"It all started with an annoying-as-hell orphaned kitsune, who saw the kind miko as a mother figure, and just loved to aggravate the shit out of the inu hanyou. But they all watched over each other."
"But…then there were complications." Kagome was nothing, if not serious now, and Inuyasha gave her foot an apologetic and assuring squeeze as Kannon fumbled through the door, pizza boxes balanced on one hand.
"Dinner!"
"'Bout damn time," Inuyasha informed him with no real irritation as the young hanyou set the boxes on the coffee table and went into the kitchen to grab some plates.
"Anyone that's not a lazy freeloader can feel free to help me put ice in the glasses," he informed him on his way out.
And after they were settled with their pizza and soft drinks, the story continued, the audience as riveted as ever.
They'd made it as far as the tormented and haunted youkai exterminator who'd lost everything, when Inuyasha heard the door click shut and moments later met the familiar gaze of his son, who leaned against the corner into the living room, listening to the household story until his mother reached a stopping point.
"But they convinced her to lay down her mighty weapon, talking sense into her before she collapsed from her injuries. And the slayer, strong even under the weight of her great grief, joined them in their quest to slay the evil hanyou."
"I think that's a good place to stop for the night," Inuyasha told them, stretching his arms over his head. "It's getting late. Didn't you have something you wanted to show them, Julia?"
"Oh, Mama, wait until you see-!"
"But Hiro—" Julia began.
"I'm right here, Jules." He smiled at her when she whirled around in surprise. "Now, what did you have to show me?"
O-O-O-O-O-O
"Wow. Just wow," she revered loud enough so that he could hear her from where she stood in his bathroom with the door left open. He was sitting up in bed, Ryuu's report in his lap. With a quick sideways glance, he could see her looking over her shoulder into the mirror behind her as she examined something—'Her ass,' he realized with an involuntary grin, and the sounds of snickering filled his head.
'And what a nice one it is,' it agreed. 'I still can't believe you manned up and actually made a move.'
She caught his eye. "These kickboxing classes are really paying off… My butt looks fantastic," she told him in awe, slapping both hands on her cheeks and squeezing them through the fabric of her sleeping shorts. "Look at it!" she urged. "It's all firm and…there!"
He snorted, but conceded. "It is quite spectacular."
She nodded her agreement. "Spectacular, yes. Five months ago I didn't even have a butt," she told him. "Remember?"
"…There's no right way I can answer that."
She 'hmmph'ed at him before looking into the mirror again. "My butt was so flat, it was practically concave."
"I disagree," he told her, looking back down to the papers in his lap. "I thought it was very nice even before the classes."
"So you were paying attention!" she accused, a victorious grin in her tone. "And here I was, thinking you were always the perfect gentleman. The very epitome of chivalry."
"I…hmm." The look he shot her was a failed attempt at appearing contrite, and she only rolled her eyes before padding off to the sink to brush her teeth.
She appeared in the doorway a moment later, toothbrush in hand. "It's alright, Hiro. I'm not a perfect gentleman either." She beamed smugly at him before popping the bristles in her mouth and scrubbing.
"I think we both agree there," he told her mildly, flipping a page over. "You're a heathen—just like Kannon and Kimiko."
She pulled the toothbrush away after a minute, and leaned over the sink to spit before retorting. "You're just jealous because I have a cuter butt than you."
"I'd hardly say I was jealous of that. Grateful, maybe."
Her answering laughter bounced off the bathroom tile.
She'd been spending the weekends with him ever since their first kiss almost a month before, and they were falling into a routine that he was quite enjoying—especially now that she was over her sudden bout of self-consciousness around him. The return of her self-confidence was both enjoyable and extremely trying to his restraint, which he'd previously prided himself in. But now…
Now it was everything he could do just to pull himself away before they both managed to get carried away. And she was a human in the modern age. Sex wasn't as finalizing to her as it would be for him.
'Fuck me,' he thought, nearly groaning as he stared unseeing at the words before him.
'That's what I'm hoping she'll do, too.'
'Clever. Also, very unhelpful.'
'But honest.'
'Still unhelpful.'
But since he and Julia had gotten closer, the voice was more agreeable, more tolerable, less talkative and vicious, and sometimes Hiroshi forgot it was there. And it was so nice.
"What's that you're reading?"
"Hm?" He looked up to see her leaning against the bathroom doorframe, watching him with a freshly scrubbed face, and he offered her a small smile. "Oh. Just work. Pretty boring, actually."
She was quiet for a moment, and then "I thought you said you didn't want to mix work with your home life," she reminded, and he was struck by her soft seriousness. He closed the file and set it on the nightstand beside him.
"I did, didn't I? Well, I think that's enough for tonight anyway." He nodded his head once to the empty spot beside him on the bed, and she grinned at him before running to jump on the bed, landing on all fours at his side. He rolled his eyes with a smirk, grabbing a thick curl as it rolled off her bared shoulder and twining it around a clawed finger and using it to guide her closer. "You are such a child."
His words rolled off her back with the careless bunching of her shoulders and she leaned forward to press her lips to his, still smelling of the mint from her toothpaste. "You can't spoil my good mood," she told him matter-of-factly as he released her. "Tonight was too good a night."
"It's a shame I wasn't there when you first saw yourself on television."
"At least you saw it, right?" She settled beside him, Indian-style, facing him. "I don't think my initial reaction was too exciting. It's a shame you missed your parents' story, though."
"I'm more than familiar with that story," he chuckled. "It's a good one. They never lose an opportunity to tell it. Or rather, Mimi never loses an opportunity to coerce them into telling it."
"I can see why. I thought I knew some pretty dark fairytales, but that one just seems brutal."
A hand crept up her knee of its own volition and circled up and under her thigh, unfolding her leg and pulling it over him so that she was sitting and laughing on his stomach, hands braced on his chest.
His demeanor was content. Possibly even a little smug. "They all live happily ever after though—the typical ending. Just so you know."
"Look at how smooth you're getting," she remarked as he settled both hands on her hips. "I should start watching my back. You know—become the typical jealous girlfriend. I think I could play a convincing one if I set my mind to it."
"Can you see me as the testosterone-driven boyfriend that is threatened into a physical confrontation when someone even glances at you?"
There was a wicked gleam in her eyes before her expression became coy. "You mean your father?"
He grinned, slipping hands beneath his oversized undershirt that she'd fashioned into her own pajamas. And he certainly wasn't going to push her away when, hands still planted firmly on his chest, she lowered herself until her lips were dusting his in a kiss so gentle and innocent that he was suddenly reminded how very fragile she actually was.
"You're sort of perfect, aren't you?" she whispered when she pulled away to watch him, try to read him—and maybe she was getting better than everyone else, who tried and failed. "It can be a bit intimidating, I'm not going to lie."
He was baffled when he heard her words, saw the nervous worrying of her lip, tasted the inevitability in the air around him, and reached up to tuck a curl behind her ear, letting his palm rest against her cheek. "Jules… You can't possibly believe that," he told her softly. "I'm so far from perfect, it's frightening."
Her smile was weak, but she leaned into his touch. "Sometimes I forget you're human. …But don't let your godliness go to your head," she teased, and he pulled her down into another kiss, scorching tongue flicking against her lips. And when she moaned, he took the opportunity to deepen the contact, pulling her closer as his tongue brushed hers, drawing her in. Within a matter of minutes, she'd nearly destroyed all of his resolve as usual before he remembered himself at the last second, claws ready to slice away the fabric of her shorts.
'We've got to get a grip,' it agreed at last, begrudgingly.
'I'm glad we're on the same page.'
'Think about dead things. Think about that little girl you found, killed by—'
His blood chilled instantly as a gruesome image flashed before his eyes, and he gently pushed the dazed woman away, suppressing a shudder. 'I have no words for how…entirely unfeeling and inappropriate you can be…'
'It worked, didn't it?'
But she seemed to understand enough, and after planting one last kiss on his chin, she crawled off of him and settled at his side, head on his shoulder and a leg curled on his stomach. She hummed amiably when the arm she rested against enveloped her and his hand found its way under her shirt again, lightly tracing the outlines of her ribcage
"I haven't seen you since Sunday brunch," she reminded him after a few minutes of recovering.
"Mm. Someone's been too busy lately."
"Someone wouldn't object to her boyfriend stopping by every now and then to pull her away for a surprise lunch."
She felt his amusement against her hair as he chuckled. "Tomorrow then. We'll go see how Anne's doing."
And not for the first time, she marveled over how thoughtful he really was. "…I'd really like that, Hiroshi." Her voice was husky, fuller than usual, and it made him remember exactly how attracted he was to her. Before he could act on it, however, she'd pressed on, bouncing back to her normal, quirky self in record timing.
"Can we play the question game? Like that first night at your parents' house?"
He was surprised at the quick change in her mood that warranted no segue but recovered gracefully with a genial quirking of lips. "That depends. Are you going to question my sexual orientation again?" he taunted.
She wrinkled her nose at him. "At this point, I would certainly hope not…"
"As would I, but you manage to surprise me every day. I suspect there's a particular question on your mind right now, and you're going to force me to answer it under the guise of a game." He didn't look irritated, so she shrugged against him, refusing to look contrite at his bold prediction.
"It's possible."
"If by 'possible,' you mean 'probable' or 'definite,' then yes, I imagine it is."
"You think you know me so well, don't you?" She paused, before relenting. "I'll start."
He leered at her victoriously. "I knew you would. …Go ahead."
With a quick, quelling glare, Julia continued. "When did you realize that you liked me?"
"Wow. Not going to ease me into it this time, I see," he commented, amused. "I've always found you attractive and entertaining, and I've always enjoyed your company," he told her honestly.
"That's it?" she asked, face crumpling in mild disappointment. "Just 'always'? I don't believe that. There must have been one particular moment where you just—"
"Christmas Eve," he interrupted, suddenly, and she pulled away enough to look up at him. He was "I'd known I felt differently about you than other friends, but it was Christmas Eve, and you'd had a miserable night, and you bounced back spectacularly. And then you hugged me when I gave you a box of DVDs."
"Not just any box of DVDs," she reminded him, "but a box of DVDs so thoughtful that it deserved a hug."
"Anyway, that's when…" He fell silent and waited for her next question.
There was sweetness in her usually-mischievous smile, in her usually-stubborn eyes. "…I like that answer. I like it a lot. Ready for the next question?"
"Would that stop you from asking it?"
"No," she admitted with nonchalance.
"Then by all means…"
"…What's the best thing you've ever cooked?"
She was waiting for it, expecting it even, so she had to laugh when he grinned easily at her. "Brownies."
"Good answer."
"Great memory," he replied. "One more question. Then it's my turn."
"Alright. Let me think—oh! Have you ever cried because of a song?"
Like many things about her, the question came from left-field, so he didn't waste time questioning it. "I don't think I've cried since I was a kid," he told her after thinking a moment. "And I wasn't into music so much when I was that young. So…no—"
"Wait a minute," she interrupted incredulously. "You haven't cried since you were a kid? You can't be serious… Is that some sort of required male response, or are you being serious?"
He snorted, and reminded, "It's my turn to ask questions." She looked very much like she wanted to protest due to her newfound discovery, but with an annoyed frown, relented. "Have you ever cried because of a song?"
She laughed, and rolled a bit more into him to look at him. "Last time we played this game, your first question was a repeat of my question, too."
"Ah, that's right…"
"Anyway, yes, of course. Lots of times, lots of songs."
For some reason, this intrigued him beyond words. He tried to grasp the concept of being moved to tears by the music that he'd depended on for so long. And he was moved by it, soothed by it, but couldn't imagine it causing tears. "And the last song to make you cry?"
"This counts as your second question."
It was his turn to look annoyed, but he nodded his consent. "That's fair."
"Purple Rain," she admitted when the soft ministrations on her ribs stopped long enough so that he could jiggle her. "By Prince. Or the Artist Formally Known As…"
"How twentieth-century of you," he teased, before falling silent to consider the song, which he was only vaguely familiar with. If he could only remember how it went…
"My mom loved the song," she told him absently, mentioning her mother for the first time since Christmas so long ago now, and he could almost hear what wasn't being said. There was a deepness in her soft smile that told him the game was over.
They were lying silent and awake in his bed, both lost in thought as Julia traced the lines of his open palm with a therapeutic finger, sending tingles up his arm with each stroke.
"Tell me about you mother," he said at last, and her finger paused before she recovered and continued with her mapping of flesh.
"That's not a question," she teased softly.
"I know," he told her. "I don't want this to be part of the game. I'm interested. Of course I'm interested, but if you don't want to talk about—"
"What do you want to know?"
"You never talk about your parents. I just want to know about her."
"Her name is Abigail…" she paused, and tried to figure out what to tell him next, where to start, what he wanted to know.
He picked up on the difficulty she was having, and did his best to help her along. "That's a nice name," he told her gently. "How did she meet your father?"
"In high school. They graduated together. She was in the top five of her class—really smart. And he was a linebacker on the school's football team. I think they were happy together for a while. They must have been..." She pursed her lips in thought, trying to remember that far back. Her eyes narrowed into focus and she smiled at him when he squeezed her hand in encouragement.
"And then what happened?"
"You know… What usually happens. Life. I don't know if my father ever grew up or really left his glory days of high school. I remember him still wearing his letterman jacket when he must have been in his mid-thirties."
"Ah…"
And he wondered what life would have been like if his parents hadn't been able to mentally leave behind their glory days in Sengoku Jidaii. Of course, they still reminisced, but they had lives in the present, and really—that's where their allegiance lay.
"And then came the alcohol, and the gambling, and then the other women. I could hear Mom asking him in the next room, and he'd make something up," she muttered bitterly. "But she knew—you could just tell… But she never did anything about it, no matter how sad it made her."
Distaste and disgust toward Charlie welled up deep and loathing within him, and he suddenly understood where her deep-seeded hatred toward lying came from.
"And then she started forgetting things. Losing her keys when she was already holding them. Putting the milk in the cupboard. And then it got worse. I'm not saying it's his fault," she told him suddenly, earnestly. "I'm not saying that. But it couldn't have helped…"
"Oh Jules," he breathed against her forehead. "Of course not."
"He left when I was seventeen—and with her credit card, which she wouldn't have declined. He was gone for months. And she just…fell apart. She had to leave her job. Jackson had to move back in and help me with her."
"And he just came back?" he asked equally shocked and appalled.
The tracing had long stopped, and now she was absently flexing her fingers in agitation. "Something like that. He got on his knees, told her he loved her—all of that bullshit. And she took him back, so that he could keep lying to her. Of course, she was sick by then. He nearly bolted again when he realized just how bad… But he didn't. I think despite everything, he still loves her too much to leave her completely. He's just such a…such a selfish bastard," she whispered, unaccustomed to swearing so much. But it felt so natural when she was talking about her father.
"What did Jackson say when he came back?"
"He lost it. He wouldn't let him in the house—he'd had the locks changed the week after Charlie left. If Mom hadn't heard him banging on the door… Jackson still hasn't forgiven him, and it's been five years now. But he's kept his second job, and he still gives them money every couple of weeks…"
Hiroshi seemed to consider this for a while, and nodded against her. "And if he didn't give them money?"
"I help as much as I can. But it's not much. Or it wasn't before filming started. Now it's a little easier… But I couldn't support them alone."
Amber eyes flicked to the top of her head, and he felt his stomach roll uneasily at how difficult her life had been. And he'd had no idea… She was much stronger than she looked. He knew that already, but this…
"Charlie seems to suddenly find money when we can't scrape together enough for the bills and food."
"…That sounds ominous. Where does this money come from?
She scoffed in disgust. "Who knows. Probably gambling. I never ask because I know I won't like the answer."
"Hm…"
Her smile was bitter as she pulled back to look up at him. "Now you see why we don't have the best relationship."
"I see that you're a better person than I could ever be," he admitted. "If I had been in your shoes, I would have had to…persuade some sense into him."
She laughed quietly. "Is that your couth way of saying 'beat some sense into him'?"
"Possibly."
"If you'd been in my shoes," she told him at last, still smiling at him, "you would have done the same thing. Because she still has her good days, and she still loves him even if you can't understand why. God knows I don't."
"Hm," he said again, thinking. "And Christmas Eve?" he asked, watching the smile fade. "What happened then?"
She clenched and unclenched the anxious hand resting on his chest, calming down slightly when he resumed his soft petting of her stomach and hips with the pads of his fingers and the tips of his claws. "Charlie's been…trying to put her in a home for a while now," she admitted at last. "But says he doesn't have the money for it. He wants us to do it. And we just…can't. We're glad he can't afford to send her away. But he says he can't take care of her the way she needs to be taken care of. And maybe he's right. She deserves to be taken care of, and Charlie, he…" she broke off with a sigh. "But it's not all bad days. She has her lucid ones, too. And she just…hates the idea of being dumped in a strange place, you know?"
He knew where this was going, and nodded with a sympathetic wince.
"She was having a pretty good day Christmas Eve… We were having dinner and being civil, and she was so happy. But then Charlie brought up that damned nursing home, and she just… She would really hate it if we dumped her there. Who wouldn't? She was screaming and crying and breaking dishes and became confused again."
"I see…"
"I visit her every week," she informed him tentatively, and even though he could smell her anxiety, she tried for nonchalance. "If you, you know, maybe want to come meet her sometime."
"Of course. I'd love that."
"But I'll understand if you don't want to…"
"Julia…" He reached out to catch her chin between his thumb and index finger and tilted her head up until her eyes met his. "I'd love to meet your mother. You've met mine tons of times. It's only fair."
Understanding dawned, and she looked amazed before her self-confidence returned and she beamed at him—until he kissed her because he just wanted to.
And he was still getting used to doing things that he wanted, just because.
She was still smiling when they broke contact, and pried her hand under his arm to wrap her arm through his and hold his hand. And as her head fell against his shoulder again, they fell silent and simply enjoyed each other's company. Which is why he wasn't able to prevent a reaction when she shattered the silence.
"Will you ever tell me what happened when you were ten?"
She could feel the muscles in his arm tightening against her, and turned her head up to watch his profile. He was frowning, but not angry, she decided. And she was startled when she suddenly realized that it was something he was still dealing with. Whatever happened so many years ago, it was the reason he was the way he was today. She'd known it, deep down, but seeing it with such clarity as she was now…
"You keep insisting that something must have happened that year," he told her finally, and she frowned to let him know that she wasn't fooled in the slightest. She was surprised when he flushed in response.
"It's okay," she told him. "You don't have to tell me now. You don't even have to tell me—it can be Miroku or whoever, but it's still bothering you after all of these years. I think you need to talk about it."
There was a wan smile as he stared up at his ceiling, and he was reminded of the day he'd confided in her on the side of his dirt road on the first Friday they'd ever spent together. "Talk about it?" he repeated, words from the past.
"You never have, have you?"
He really wished she would drop this. But because she was Julia, and because she'd just told him something that must have been painfully personal, he'd give her what he could. Just enough to satisfy her curiosity in the vaguest way possible.
"When I was ten, my dog died, my father gave me Gintsume, and I became the way I am."
She nearly started, startled at his admission: 'and I became the way I am…' She wished she knew what he was like before.
"Dog," she breathed, trying to remember the name he'd mentioned once upon a time… D-something. Daisy? Duke? "Daphne?"
"Yes."
She knew there was a lot he wasn't telling her. Circumstances, results…details. She wondered how much he would give her before retreating.
"How did she die? She was older than you, right?"
'Will you tell her about me, then?'
'Never, if I can help it.'
'And if you can't?' it challenged.
The muscles in his arm twitched. "She was older, yeah. And she was shot." He sighed and offered her a strained and weary smile. "She bit a bully on the playground after he pushed Mimi, and our fathers got into it."
"A man shot your dog on the playground?" she asked, horrified.
"No," he told her, and she let out a relieved gasp of air. "He shot her a few days later, in our yard."
"What?" she breathed, curling further against him to watch his face and reaching to grab his bicep with her other hand.
"I still don't know how he found our house... He must have asked around the park and looked us up."
There was a sudden lump in her throat as she began jumping to conclusions that she was pretty sure were correct, for the most part. "Where were you?"
He gave her an odd look, as though she should already know. "I was with her. So was Miroku."
"Oh," she breathed before anger found her and she sat up, still holding onto his hand. "But you were kids!"
His smile was wan, but assuring. "That was a long time ago, Jules."
"But in front of you!" she continued, disbelieving. He was still keeping a lot of it from her, she knew that. "What did you do after…?" She watched his face smooth into that careful mask.
"What do you mean?"
"Hiroshi. Don't look at me with that face."
He looked confused now. "What face? This is my normal face."
"It is now," she snapped, and then gasped at her own words. "…Sorry."
But he was just staring at her, face serious as he studied her, considered her.
"I didn't mean— It's just that… That face," she told him, reaching out to let her fingers hover and travel millimeters from his skin, "means that you're keeping something from me. Emotions you don't want me to see. Thoughts you don't want to or can't voice." She let her hand fall away. "I'm very familiar with that face."
"I got angry," he told her the moment she'd gotten the last word out, and her mouth snapped shut in surprise, though she couldn't possibly be more surprised than he was at this moment. "Angrier than I'd ever been before, or have been since. I didn't feel like myself, even. And I tried to hurt the man." His eyes fell from hers because he didn't want to see her face when he told the ceiling, "But my father stopped me and held me back. So I hurt him instead."
And as ominous as that sounded, she wondered, really, how much harm could he have done if he was so young…? Certainly not enough to warrant such a change in personality.
Her hand was suddenly resting on his cheek pulling him back to her. "Oh, Hiroshi… You can't beat yourself up over something like that… It was a traumatic experience, and you were young. Your father understands, surely. He's certainly forgiven you…"
"It was never about that," he told her after a long moment, his hand covering hers before removing it to settle on his chest. "He never held it against me, so he never needed to forgive me. But I realized something about myself that day. That's all."
"Hiro…you were just a kid…"
"You keep saying that," he told her, amused, but she sounded so sad. It was unsettling. "I'm fine now, Julia," he reminded her, but she knew better.
"Mimi…Mimi said you disappeared for a while?" she hedged, and he laughed, a sad, humorless sound.
"She thinks I disappeared? No, but I mostly kept to myself while I tried to figure things out. Mother and Father were the only people I'd agree to see at first. I'm surprised she remembers," he mused quietly. "She was so young."
"So were you," she reminded him before remembering something. "This year…" she began, already knowing and dreading the answer she'd receive to the question she was about to ask, "Was it the last time you cried?"
He didn't answer that, but then again, he didn't need to.
"So," he said with a tight smile, "that's what happened when I was ten. Father gave me Ginstume and started training me with it. Probably in order to reconnect with me."
She sat up to watch him and didn't miss how he seemed to squirm under her blue gaze. There was still so much he was keeping from her, and she knew this. And she was surprised when she realized that, at the moment, she didn't care. She could only imagine how difficult it had been for him to admit even that much out loud, and she was painfully aware that she was more in love with him now than ever.
She just couldn't voice that yet because she was only just getting used to them as a couple, and so was he.
Tucking a curl behind her ear, she nodded. "Okay," she told him. "Thank you for telling me." At his dry, pointed look, she grinned at him, and reached to brush his long silver bangs away from his eyes. "Don't look so miserable," she cooed, teased, rolling over to burn a kiss into his forehead and gasping, laughing when she felt him nip at her breast through the undershirt she wore. "I still think you're pretty perfect."
"I still think your ass is pretty perfect," he teased back, making a show of grabbing at it through her shorts, and she collapsed onto him, still giggling. And once she'd wound herself down to a smile, she was pleased to see that he was looking up at her, returning it. And his face was so open and honest and gentle and content, that she knew she was perilously close to losing herself in the smoldering amber gaze that was just so damn deep…
"It is, isn't it?"
He nodded, mockingly serious and reverent before he smiled at her again, and pulled her closer into another kiss.
"I think we're good for each other's egos," she whispered against his lips, and she felt so warm and soft against him that he nearly groaned.
"…I think you're right. They do seem to be the primary beneficiaries of this relationship."
She was laughing again. "Only you…" she teased before his fingers were buried in her curls, and her voice lost against him, her fingers flexing against his chest.
A red light blinked steadily in the pitch of night, and through the filtered green and black light of the recorder's night-vision, eyes flicked up and pierced through it, shining white and inhuman as they, alone, gave off their own light.
The blinking stopped.
"That felt much better than I expected it to," the creature murmured in amazement. "I didn't think it would be…that easy…"
Behind the camera, a hanyou gagged at the thick scent of blood, but mercifully swallowed his own vomit. "Sorry," he muttered, hoarse, and young, and now terrified. "I didn't mean…"
The youkai watched him silently for a long, long unnerving moment, before he shrugged. "That's alright. …Lucky you could control yourself though. Tonight is supposed to be crucial—if you'd left a pile of sick…"
"I'm not. I won't," the hanyou hurried to say, trying to ignore the mushed pile of young entrails and young limbs and baby teeth. And when his partner made no move to leave it, but rather just stared at the blood on his own hands, he felt another wave of sick coming on. "Should we…you know, go?"
"Hm? Oh… Yes, we'd best leave now. Can you get the camera and the stand?" He calmly held up his hands, coated in blood, much like the rest of him. "I'm rather a mess right now."
Suppressing a shudder, the witness nodded, already fumbling with it. If he could just get out of here… All of that blood—who wouldn't be able to smell it all? There was no way they could possibly get away with this. None. "Yes—yeah, I got it. Let's go."
But they did. And they marked the night that promised many, many more would, as well.
The resurgence. The crucial domino, setting the final acts in motion.
Charlie frowned at the unfamiliar knock—too firm to be his daughters, and when had Jackson ever in his life knocked on a door? With a grunt, he pushed himself off the couch and switched to turn the television off before he made his way to the entry way of his row house. A quick look through the peephole revealed a vaguely familiar face, and it took Charlie a second to place him—he hadn't exactly been clear-headed the first and last time they'd met…
The door swung open, and Charlie, looking much more sober than he'd been on Christmas Eve, stared expectantly at the tall young man with the strangest silver hair that fell flat down his back. "What do you want?"
Unable to even fake a smile, Hiroshi handed him a thick envelope, face unreadable. "This is for food, bills, and your wife's medicine, understand?"
Charlie took it and looked inside, unfiltered shock broadcasted as he flipped through the bills before he remembered himself, and turned back to the hanyou before him. He frowned. "What makes you think I'll accept your charity?"
"Because you'll accept money from your children, who struggled to make ends meet," he managed to say in a tone that was surprising free of hostility, despite his words' intentions. "Julia cannot know about this," he stressed at last. "I'll continue to help however I can. But this means you stop accepting Julia's money. Jackson's, too." Then with a nod he turned to leave before he remembered—
"Oh, and one last thing. I know you don't have a job, so whatever you've gotten yourself into to get this money that Julia mentioned… Stop and get out of it. Nothing good can come of it."
Though he was still shocked with the entirety of this impromptu visit, Charlie was suddenly all-too-aware that his honor was being thoroughly insulted. "What the fuck do you know, boy," he snapped. "How old are you? You have no idea—You think you're better than me because you have a job?"
'I know I am,' whipped through his mind, 'but not just because I have a job.' But he said nothing. He really didn't have to.
"I heard Julia tell Abbi all about you. You have your big, rich family to fall on—to just hand you a job, just like everything else was handed to you. Don't you fucking—"
"Right," Hiroshi interrupted briskly. "I'm leaving now. Don't let me find out that you've wasted that money. Or taken any more of Julia's."
"I don't want your fucking money!" Braden yelled, flinging the envelope down the stairs after Hiroshi who, other than a cursory look over his shoulder, ignored it and continued to walk to his parked car as a few of the bills fluttered free.
Charlie watched him drive away before he finally walked down the steps to collect the fallen but not forgotten bills.
That was a lot of fun to write. :P Also—answers! Vague (sort of) but very relevant answers!
If you're interested in this sort of thing, Hiroshi has a new (and more significant) song to sum up his character: "Wake Up" by Arcade Fire.
Next Chapter: Introducing Cho, Kouga's militant daughter, as the murders reach a frightening peak. Also introducing 'Samuru' (oh, I'm so clever) in his convincing portrayal of a cold-blooded murderer, as Hiroshi uses the voice to convince his uncle of his acting/surviving skills for an infiltration attempt. Finally, trouble and drama just because it wouldn't be a Captain Applesauce story if it wasn't filled with both.
Quotes of Randomness:
"The man who said "I'd rather be lucky than good" saw deeply into life. People are afraid to face how great a part of life is dependent on luck. It's scary to think so much is out of one's control. There are moments in a match when the ball hits the top of the net, and for a split second it can either go forward or fall back. With a little luck it goes forward, and you win. Or maybe it doesn't, and you lose." –Chris Wilton, Match Point
"Don't worry, I saw Lord of the Rings. I'm not going to end this 17 times." -Harry, Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang
