A Red Riding Hood Inuyasha adaptation

Kagome.
The words were but a whisper.
Kagome, my dearest. Come to me. Come...

The gray mists that made her feel like she was floating began to clear, slowly revealing shapes. Then colors. Then… silver.

Silver hair and triangular ears and golden eyes…
and red… blood red.
and fangs.
and claws.

Then, wizened gray eyes emerged from the mist. Eyes Kagome would know anywhere. Eyes full of love and soul, of one who had lived a long, long time.

I need you, Kagome. Please hurry.

The words, like the figures, were becoming more solid; and the clouds were receding and burning away, and soon, at the moment that all would become clear.

You're the only one who can…

"Grandma!" Kagome cried herself out of sleep, cold sweat catching in her brow.

Something was wrong. She could feel it in every fiber of her being. She knew that her grandmother had reached across the ether to call to her. Why did she see such a sight as the dog-eared man with fangs and golden eyes during her grandmother's desperate cry?

There was only one thing to do.

"Mama? I'm going to Grandma Kaede's today," Kagome said, setting a single foot on the wooden floor, and eliciting a creak that rang through the house almost as loudly as her voice.

Should she be worried? She did not know. The whisper in her dream had been urgent. And the beast, the beast! But even as Kagome replayed the fangs and the eyes and claws in her mind, she could not bring herself to be afraid. Not of him, only for Grandma Kaede.

Kagome threw on the closest clothes to her, a blouse of green and white, tied with a crimson ribbon that clipped across her neck, and a forest green skirt that had become entirely too short for a woman of marriageable age. Then, for modesty (and warmth), Kagome pulled the green cloak from her closet. The cloak that her grandmother had made for her.

She hurried out of her bedroom, her white socks slipping on the smooth wood of their cozy home, and into the kitchen to see her mother standing, expectantly.

"Why the sudden desire to see your grandma?" Mama asked, though she already had packed a basket with bread and meat and fruit.

"I dreamed of her," Kagome answered: a truth, but not the whole of it, enough to satisfy her mother, who handed her the basket full to the brim.

"Pick some tulips too," Mama said. "The ones in the garden are blooming. You know how much Grandma Kaede loves flowers." Then Mama's face turned grave. "And beware the woods, my love. It's a many hours walk."

"I will Mama," Kagome answered, and forced a smile onto her face. She then headed into the garden, to the vivid explosion of reds and pinks and yellows that composed of the tulip blooms Kagome had so carefully nurtured. They were full of life and color and love—Kagome's love, specifically.

When she was through, she tied the tulips in a red ribbon, then headed for the path that would take her into the forest, and to her grandmother's. Her mother always warned her that the wood was treacherous to any who strayed from the well-trodden path, and even then, the canopy was thick, able to suffocate the sounds of warning that came just before one was grabbed and taken away by a thing that prowled in the dark. Kagome heeded her mother, to a degree.

Grandma Kaede, on the other hand, had always loved the wood. She sang of its serenity and whistled its language. She said she could speak to the trees, and the trees would listen to her tales. Kagome loved the way Grandma Kaede spoke of those woods. Kagome loved grandma's little cabin in the clearing by the creek. And when she visited, she often skipped along the path while singing the merry jaunts that Kaede had taught her, unafraid when the tree branches seemed to hum to her in reply. Because, like Grandma Kaede, Kagome could feel the magic of the woods. The matrilineal Higurashis could all feel the magic in the woods. And as Kagome grew, she heard more and more of the forest's song.

Mama wanted Kagome to marry. She was pretty, Mama said, and could find her share of tender suitors for her hand. Mama wanted her to find her home and her family in the village, because already, Mama could feel Kagome stray from that path. And Mama wanted to settle her down before the song of the forest took her in, as it had so many Higurashi women before her. Afraid that her only daughter would languish in solitude, hypnotized by the magical melodies of the trees. The affliction, her mother claimed, that drove Grandma Kaede out of the village and into the forest after her husband had died, rumors that she was a witch hot on her heels.

But Grandma was never sad, nor did she ever seem lonely in her little cabin in the woods. No. Grandma Kaede seemed peaceful, and full, and fulfilled. She cultivated delicate herbs that could be used for medicines, or delectable seasonings for supper. She grew the most wondrous flowers, spanning all the colors of the rainbow: bright reds and exotic blues and vibrant yellows. Some glowed in the moonlight, and some would only bloom under the darkness of night. And Grandma Kaede had shown all of these and more to Kagome, to help her understand the magic that was all around her. The magic that was specific and special to the Higurashi women.

So as Kagome crossed the threshold from the safe and known world of the village onto the wild path of the forest, she thought of the songs her grandma sang. Songs of the trees and of the birds and of the flowers and ferns and mushrooms. Kagome sang softly, whispering the words as if a secret. And she smiled for her grandma, pleading with the spirits for Kaede to hear her song. She paid no mind to the deer that frolicked along her path, flicking their ears in tune to her music, and she did not stop to pick the fire-red mushrooms from the foot of the trees, the ones she knew to taste rich and spicy.

No, she needed to find out why Grandma Kaede had called to her in her dreams. She needed to sing and to smile so she could suppress the dread.

You're the only one who can…

Kagome quickened her pace, flushing her cheeks and stamping the ground. The notes she sang no longer tickled the wind, but squawked like the unseen birds in the canopy. The song of one who was scared. One who needed to run. One who…

...Was being followed.

As Kagome filled the quiet with melody, a shadow followed her from the treetops. Always just out of earshot. Always just out of sight. But she could feel them: the being who pursued her.

She waited for the hairs on the back of her neck to stand at attention, and for her heart to beat out of her chest, but it did not come. Again, it was only when she thought of her dream and her grandmother did that dread threaten to take her.

"Grandma…" Kagome whimpered.
Finally, after running her voice ragged, her song fell silent.

Kagome dropped the flowers and her basket, and she took off in a sprint. She had an hour's walk left, but her run would shorten that significantly. She may have exhausted her voice, but she had not exhausted her body. As she loped along, her lungs and calves burned, and she nearly tripped on upended roots when they grasped at her feet, but she did not relent.

She would not relent. Not until she stepped into the clearing filled with wildflowers, or heard the trickle of the creek, or saw the little hovel of stone and timber. She did not heed that the chirping birds fell silent, or that the squirrels and chipmunks scattered from the path far before she disturbed them, or that the rustling of trees had grown audible to her ears: the canopy footfalls of her pursuer.

Why did her instincts not scream at her to quicken her pace away from the beast in the trees? Even now, when it was clear that its quarry was truly her?

Kagome did not know, and did not try to understand. Getting to Grandma left no room for contemplation.

The moment her lungs threatened to collapse and her legs tried to crumble underneath her, she was there. To the wildflowers and to the creek and to the friendly hovel in the clearing.

"Grandma!" Kagome called, letting it echo through the wood. "Grandma, I'm here!"

But there was no answer.

So Kagome opened the door to the cottage that exuded warmth, just like Grandma Kaede.

Still, no one.

"Why would she call me?" Kagome whimpered. "Grandma, why did you call me? Where are you?"

You're the only one who can…

What? What was Kagome to do?

She looked around the cabin. Kaede's pots were washed and hung on their hooks, and the vase on her table was filled with fresh daisies. There was food in the pantry and the little twin bed was made. Everything in Grandma's house was exactly where it should be.

Save for the most important thing.

"Grandma," Kagome whispered to her missing grandmother, tears threatening to break from her eyes. "Where are you? Why did you call out to me?" Suddenly Kagome dropped to her knees, unable to hold her tears back any longer. "Please… what am I the only one for?"

A loud bang on the door startled Kagome out of her trance, but not away from her tears. Was this her answer? She jumped and opened it. Sitting on the steps, her tulips and her basket.

And something else, something she was only just in time to see. Silver hair. Dog ears. And blood red robes.

"Wait!" Kagome stopped the man in his tracks, before he had made it past Kaede's garden. When he turned, she saw the rest of him: golden eyes, claws, fangs. When those eyes finally came to rest upon Kagome, she continued: "I saw you in my dreams."

"Not fucking likely," the man scowled, and folded his arms protectively over his body.

"My grandmother, Kaede. She—she called out to me," Kagome explained, a hand reaching toward the strange man before she could help herself.

"She's dead," the man said. His ears drooped as he said it.

"N—no," Kagome gasped.

He must be lying; there must be some mistake. Grandma Kaede had said to hurry; she could not have been dying; she would have made that clear in the dream. But…

"How do you know?" Kagome demanded of the man, her heart twisted as she asked. "Were you here? Did you—?"

"Yeah. I killed her." The man's shoulders slumped as he said it; his words piercing her like shards of ice. "That's all a fucking hanyō can do, right? Kill?"

"Wh—what?" Kagome gawped at the man who so readily admitted to killing her grandmother. But she couldn't hate him—she couldn't even believe him. "How? How did you—"

"It's my nature." The man scowled once more, then in a flash, disappeared into the inky black of the woods.

A single sob escaped Kagome, then another, and then another, and so she sobbed, letting her tears water the dirt below her feet. No. This could not be. Grandma Kaede had sent her that dream in order to die? But… Kaede did not scream for help, and she did not name a murderer. She simply begged Kagome to come as quickly as she could. Her house was set as it always was: not a single sign of struggle. As if Kaede had intended to say nothing more than goodbye.

So why would that man, that hanyō, come to the door to claim he'd killed her? Why would he return the tulips and the basket, then run into the wind after such a violent declaration?

Kagome's mind reeled as she regained her breath, on the cusp of accepting the truth, but also convinced of a lie.

"Why would you… why?" Kagome paused, then stood up and dusted off her knees. She needed to control her grief for now, to shove her emotions down and solve the puzzle put forward to her.

She scanned out the open door and into Kaede's yard slowly, deliberately. Looking for anything that might be amiss. Then she saw it. There, in the corner of the garden, was a mound. The dirt that covered it was darker than the rest, as if it had been disturbed only recently.

A grave.

Kagome walked over to it and saw a small stone, engraved with clumsy scratch marks, Kaede.

"Someone gave you a proper burial," Kagome whispered. "Someone who loved you."

Kagome then wiped the tears from her eyes, gathered her basket and tulips, and returned to her grandmother's house.

You're the only one who can…

She knew she should head home as the light waned. That she should tell her mother of Grandma Kaede's passing, but she was not ready.

No, her dream meant something, some final request that only Kagome could fulfill. Something to do of which time was of the essence.

And Kagome would do it, if she could only figure out what it was.

So she went into the cottage and surveyed the room once more, looking for anything askew, anything out of place.

All looked exactly as it should be.
Except…

A single piece of paper lay on the floor next to the cozy little bed, ink bleeding through as if it was scribbled in a hurry. Kagome dove for the letter, taking in the looping wobbly handwriting of her grandmother.

My dear Kagome,

Time is shorter than I thought. I became ill not three days ago, and it has advanced so rapidly that I may not see you before the end. Please take care of Inuyasha, the hanyō I pray has stayed near. He is more special than you know. He befriended me many moons ago, one lonely soul finding the companionship of another, and is now a constant in my life. He fishes and brings me meat, and when I was too weak to get out of bed he cared for me as if I were his family. Indeed, I fear I may be his only family. He found me sick and has stayed near to me these three days, nursing me as best he can. A man such as he was called a beast, and I do not believe he thinks himself otherwise, but I have never met a more caring and loving soul than his. So please. Take care of him. He gives everything to those he loves. Do not fear him because he bears his teeth, love him because he bares his heart.

Love,

K—

The squiggled line at the bottom of the signature was the end. A letter written in haste and desperation. And maybe, probably, a dream delivered to a granddaughter.

You're the only one who can…
...take care of Inuyasha.

The rustling of the trees as Kagome was followed through the forest.
The discarded basket and tulips, returned.
The grave, dug deep and a gravestone constructed with love, so Kaede would not be forgotten.
And an admission, to try to take the sting out of not arriving in time.
Kagome had known Inuyasha for less than an hour, and she already understood her grandma's words.

So she picked up the tulips from the table where they lay. And she ambled over to Kaede's grave, and set the tulips there. A symbol of the deepest love: a goodbye to the grandmother she loved with all her heart. With one deep breath, Kagome returned to the house. She would cry again, but not just yet.

"Inuyasha?" Kagome called, dragging her feet to the door and scanning the edge of the clearing. When she heard a rustle, and caught a glimpse of red, she knew that the lonely hanyō had not gone far. "Please come inside. Grandma left me a letter."

A small "keh" came from the tallest tree close to the cottage, but there was no movement beyond the noise. So Kagome turned, and headed back in. She left the door ajar, in a gesture of hope.

For the third time, Kagome scanned Kaede's cabin, noticing the many little things she had missed. The pots were cleaned and hanging, but there were little scuffs and scratches that could be made with claws. The food, placed neatly on the shelves, included cured meats and fish, something a frail old woman living in the woods would not be able to obtain on her own. The flowers in the vase looked freshly picked that day, Kaede's favorites. And on the perfectly made bed, a single strand of silver hair.

As if… as if Inuyasha had buried Kaede's body, then tidied her cottage before running back into the woods.

"You shouldn't leave a door open like that." The gruff voice in the doorway sounded like the bending of a willow in the wind to Kagome's ears: beautiful. "Not safe."

"I don't think I've ever been safer than I am now," Kagome said; it was the truth.

Finally, she turned around and took Inuyasha in fully. He was tall and muscular, cut from marble. His skin shimmered with a golden gleam, though it was overpowered by his illustrious eyes, which burned like amber fire. The ears on his head were the same ethereal silver as his moonspun hair, silken soft and smooth. His ears were pinned back, and Kagome wished to reach out and bring him comfort through those special ears. Finally, she saw his robes, blood red—no, crimson red. Regal, just like him. Beautiful, just like him.

Kagome took a step forward, and although he tensed, Inuyasha did not take a matching step back.

"How long have you been helping my grandmother?" Kagome asked, trying to keep the emotion from her voice. She did not want to frighten Inuyasha away.

"Does it matter? I killed her," Inuyasha snarled, bearing his fangs in false aggression.

"Someone who would pick fresh daisies to ease her passing certainly didn't kill her," Kagome started, taking a single step forward. Inuyasha growled, but he did not retreat. "Someone who cleans her dishes and brings her fresh meat certainly didn't kill her." Kagome took another step; a glint came to Inuyasha's eyes: fear. But still he did not retreat. "Someone who buries her and marks her grave did not kill her." One more step, and Inuyasha's eyes widened. She was no more than an arm's length away now. "And the one my grandma wrote about, Inuyasha, the one she sent me a dream of, to make sure I came, certainly did not kill her."

Kagome took one last stride forward. She was to Inuyasha now, close enough to see him panting. Close enough to catch the glimmer of a tear in his eye. Close enough to watch his lower lip tremble. Close enough to…

Kagome leaned forward, and pulled Inuyasha's body into hers, letting his head rest on her shoulder, letting him collapse into her and letting him pull her even closer, as if his life depended on it.

"B—but I—I did kill her." He whimpered, and Kagome knew she had understood her grandmother's plea. "If I… if I'd just gotten here a day earlier… maybe—maybe I woulda found her in time. And th—then she'd still be here."

"Inuyasha." Kagome stroked the hanyō's satin hair as he sobbed, his tears wetting the woolen cloak Kagome had forgotten to discard.

And she let him cry, because that was what she was meant to do.
And she held him, because that was what she was meant to do.

"She—she was the first since my mom to… accept me," Inuyasha trembled, unable to control himself. "I—I was so lonely. So so lonely. And… fuck. I got used to havin' the old bat around. Th—then she was so sick and I couldn't leave her for even a second to get the herbs that mighta helped and she jus—just asked me for fuckin' daisies. So I picked 'em… and… th—then the next goddamned thing I know she's gone. And… I—I'm all alone again."

"No Inuyasha," Kagome whispered, because she knew now why her grandma found her in her dreams. Why her grandma had said she was the only one. She was the only one who could love Inuyasha's beautiful heart, as her grandma did, and she would. For as long as she lived, she would love him. "You won't be alone, because you have me now too."