Chapter 33

For the Love of Family

Miroku continued to chant as the poor soul before him gasped for breath after labored breath. Hojo had been steadily growing worse and it was now only a matter of time.

Breathing deeply though his nose, Miroku ignored the biting sting of medicines as he continued his prayers, shifting his beads over one.

He knew Sango was cross with him; all of the villagers probably were. They wanted reassurance in the fight that was coming. But, while fear was running rampant, Miroku couldn't bring himself to leave the suffering boy to face death alone. Hojo needed rest, not torment.

Shifting his beads again, Miroku remained still when the woven door-flap was moved aside, bringing sounds from the outside in, before falling into place again.

Miroku prepared himself for the berating he was sure to get but the answering silence was near deafening in the simple room. Not a word, not a breath, not a whisper.

Miroku released another breath. "If you are here to scold, I recommend you make it quick—"

"Hojo….."

The whisper was shaky, more a sob than a word to Miroku's ears, but it was the most relieving sound the hoshi had heard all day.

With a gentle smile, Miroku turned his head to see the Village Head clinging to the door-frame, face pale and half bent-over in despair. Miroku had no idea what compelled the stubborn man to come to his son's side but he wasn't about to spit on the opportunity.

"Hojo Ueda," Miroku greeted respectfully as he stood to his feet. "Please, take my place."

"My son…." He whispered helplessly as he stepped towards the pallet. "My….son…."

"He's still breathing," Miroku informed. "If you wish to be alone with him, I can—"

"Who do you think is to blame for this?" Ueda suddenly asked, eyes blazing with fury, or tears. "Tell me, monk, who is responsible? Who do I blame?"

"It is not my place to blame," Miroku replied as he wrapped his beads again about his hand.

"The hell, it's not!" Ueda snarled, nostrils flaring like an angry ox. "You chant and pray and meditate; you swear never to harm a living thing but purify yokai every chance you get; you travel the roads, a pilgrim of enlightenment, and when you die on the road, that staff of yours will mark your grave! So, don't tell me you don't blame! Or, pass judgement!"

"Very well," Miroku agreed, expression staying calm.

He had hoped to ease the poor man's suffering and yet it caused him to laugh in humorless abandon.

"And, you do not break," the man informed bitterly. "Always a steady look, with that smile. That damned, unshakable smile. Do you even feel anything but peace? Do you feel pain, anger, suffering?"

"I have an idea at that," Miroku admitted. "Yes."

"Then, how am I supposed to avenge this without knowing who's to blame?" Ueda demanded weakly, his previous fire draining from him. "How…how can I make this worth something?"

"Your son is worth something," Miroku reassured. "He is your son, and he is dying. What difference does it make what caused it?"

"It makes all the difference!" Ueda shouted as he slammed a fist against the nearest wall. "It's yokai. It's always them. They are nothing but chaos and evil, killing us all for their own amusement and appetite. We are fodder for them!"

"And, yet, a handful of them defend you and your people from possible annihilation," Miroku answered calmly. "They would be your saviors."

"Our masters, you mean," Ueda sneered half-heartedly.

Miroku resisted the urge to sigh. The man was stubborn, but fear usually was.

"You are not here to argue," Miroku ventured. "Do you wish me to leave?"

A moment's pause was all the Village Head took before he shook his head, weakly.

The raspy cough from the pallet drew both men's attention, filling the silence in the air.

"Is he…..?"

Miroku nodded gently. "It won't be long," he informed. "He…..is slipping away."

The Village Head's legs seemed to suddenly give under him as he dropped towards the floor. Luckily, Miroku was able to catch the poor man before he landed.

"Hojo Ueda," Miroku asked. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine," he answered. "I just…."

"Father…."

The weak whisper had the Village Head rushing to the pallet, clasping Hojo's weak hand between his own trembling ones.

"I'm here, Hojo," Ueda promised. "I'm right here."

"Father…. I'm sorry…I'm sorry…"

Ueda shook his head furiously, tears glinting in his eyes. "It's alright, son. It's not your fault."

"Didn't….listen….." Hojo whispered frantically. "Only wanted…..to….help…"

"It's alrigh-"

"My fault!" Hojo shouted, in a sudden burst of energy. "All….my fault…..I did it…..It was me…. Please, please….."

"Hojo, it's not your fault," Ueda desperately answered. "It's the yokai. It's always them. It'll always be them."

"I did it," Hojo argued. "I took it…I stole it….. My fault…..my fault….."

Miroku remained silent as the helpless father met his gaze.

"What is he talking about?" Ueda asked, uncertainty heavy in his tone.

Miroku hated the idea of possibly angering the father while his son was on the precipice but he refused to lie to the man. Forgiveness was necessary in this moment. True forgiveness. He just hoped the man could be understanding, as well.

However, before Miroku could say anything, Hojo jerked his father's hands in a desperate plea.

"Forgive me," the boy begged, his eyes wild with frantic fright. "Please, forgive me. I… I failed you, father… I failed and doomed us all..."

In a sudden turn, the Village Head suddenly smoothed a gentle palm across his son's drenched brow. "Shhhh," he whispered. "You failed no-one. I'm here, you're here, everyone else is safe."

Relief relaxed the boy's face as he stared unfocusedly upward.

"The village," Hojo asked. "It's safe?"

"Yes," Ueda promised, voice breaking with emotion.

"They did it," Hojo sighed, despite his breaths growing more rapid. "They saved them all."

"They did," Ueda choked out.

Miroku was sure the Village Head had no idea who 'They' were but he was also sure the devastated man didn't care.

"I'm glad," Hojo gasped. "They're not all bad, father. Koga…..helped…..me."

"I'll thank him," Ueda promised softly.

"They're amazing," Hojo rasped. "I think….. we could… have…..been…..

With the passing of a soul, a strange silence always filled the air. It was a quiet Miroku had become too familiar with. Without delay, the hoshi began his chant once again, encouraging the newly departed to go into rest instead of trying to cling to a life they no-longer had.

By the time he was done, and Miroku felt no rise of malevolent energy in the room, he breathed a saddened sigh of relief. The boy had passed peacefully.

The Village Head remained still, not releasing his grip on his son's hands. Miroku was sure he wouldn't leave for some time.

"You should leave," Ueda suddenly said, no anger or resentfulness in his voice. "Koga wants you, immediately."

Miroku nodded in understanding. Without a word, he stood to his feet and, grabbing his shakujo, made his way to Kaede's door. Considering the elderly miko didn't come in, Miroku could only assume she wasn't in the village. But, if Koga was back, then they did truly need his assistance.

Casting another look over his shoulder, Miroku felt his heart clench at the despair on the father's face. But, he knew there was nothing more he could do. Ueda didn't seem the type to want empty words of sympathy. And, if Koga had sent him in to fetch him, Miroku was only grateful the Alpha's gruff treatment had forced the stubborn man to at least say goodbye.

With a final silent prayer, Miroku stepped outside into the awaiting chaos.

SSS

"I can't believe we're doing this," Ginta muttered to himself as he crouched lower in the surrounding brush.

"Aye," Kaede agreed. "Neither can I but, the kit seemed sure this will work."

Ginta swallowed the snort he had building in his throat. He was convinced Shipo being 'sure' about anything was giving the kitsune way too much credit. If anything, the little trouble-maker made plans by the seat of his pants and this time was dragging the two of them along for the ride.

The growing thrumming just beyond the brush, however, forced Ginta to have to trust the ridiculous scheme. He certainly didn't want to face a whole swarm of saimyosho head-on. But, to do this….. Well, he supposed there was worse.

"What did he say the signal would be?" Ginta asked, trying to make sure he had this right.

Kaede sighed. "He didn't," the miko informed dryly. "But, said it would undeniable."

"Great," the hunter muttered.

"Ye seem troubled," Kaede replied.

Ginta shrugged. "Just trying to follow Koga's orders."

"Hm," the miko answered. "Ye think highly of your Alpha."

"He is Alpha," Ginta replied as if it explained everything.

"But, not ye're first, I'd wager," Kaede countered. "And, I'd also bet ye didn't pay them half the regard ye do to Koga."

Ginta remained silent. There no point confirming or denying the claim. It was true. Still, for a human with one eye, the miko was more observant than he thought.

"Which makes me wonder, why ye struggle to tolerate Kagome," the miko added, causing Ginta's spine to stiffen. "Am I wrong?"

Ginta huffed silently through his nose. Definitely observant, probably too observant.

"No," Ginta admitted, face flushing slightly.

"Do ye despise her?" Kaede asked.

Ginta shook his head. "Kagome and I…..are complicated."

"She hurt ye, didn't ye?" Kaede replied after a moment of observation.

"I….it doesn't matter," Ginta answered, not liking where the conversation was going.

"It does, young hunter," Kaede countered. "If ye're Alpha cares for her, then ye will have to deal with her, as his beta."

"If she doesn't run again," Ginta muttered before he could stop himself.

He cringed in disgust. How did he let that slip?

"Ah," Kaede replied. "Now, we come to it. Ye fear she will leave ye're Alpha."

"Now, is not the time for this," Ginta whispered sharply, eyes darting to try and spot any close-by enemies.

"I disagree," the old woman argued. "If we are to face possible demise, ye can't have dark thoughts troubling ye. It will only doom ye."

"Thanks," Ginta answered dryly.

"I only tell ye the truth to help ye," Kaede replied. "Ye care for Koga, ye can trust he won't lose Kagome so easily."

"And, if she rejects him again?" Ginta challenged.

"Did she?"

Ginta was silent for a moment as he contemplated the question. Kagome had ran, there was no doubt of that; fled like a deer in the hunt. But, was there more truth to that than Ginta realized?

Kagome had ran from Naraku, wanting to save herself and the Jewel from him, but had it also been to save them? To save the pack and to save Koga? To do that meant she had to care for them, care for him. And, if that was the case…..was it a rejection?

A sudden blue lighted flared across the trees, causing the two to snap their focus upward.

"Well, I guess that would be it," the miko mused before meeting Ginta's gaze.

Gripping the bundled branches in his hands, Ginta took a deep breath. Here they went.