Disclaimer: This story is loosely inspired by "A private affair" by Beppe Fenoglio.
None of the characters belongs to me.
The war described in this story is of pure fiction and in no way relates to actual historical events.
A/N: This chapter's quotation is translated from the Italian edition of 'Le malentendu' by Irène Némirovsky.
Chapter Seven: Sunset or Sunrise?
"Sometimes Francette, when they spent the summer by the beach, liked to dive her hands in the sea trying to catch some suds. She clamped her palms and squealed out of joy, then she ran to Denise with all the strength she had in her little legs, but when she opened her fingers, nothing was found but water. Thus, she cried… but then, she started all over again.
There, love was the same thing."
Inuyasha slumped in his chair and hid his face in his hands as soon as Sesshomaru was out of sight. He couldn't believe everything that was happening around him, that the world was crashing down on him once again in a matter of days.
He shook his head and sighed.
Where had he gone wrong?
Everything had gone wrong.
He had fallen in love with Kikyo, he had given her everything, but in return, he had been left empty-handed. He had thought he could get everything, and now he had nothing. He had embarked on a suicide mission for a woman who had probably already forgotten everything about him, even his face. Was it worth getting killed for her? To die with regret and in search of a fleeting truth?
What was there to verify? What could Miroku, a suffering soul, have said to him if he were still alive?
He started laughing like a madman. Yeah, sure, as if he would have revealed to him a deserter's refuge.
He laughed even more in the throes of his second epiphany in the space of two days.
What a fool, what a fool you are, Inuyasha.
Blind luck had saved him and sent him an angel last time, and he hadn't even learned his lesson. He wouldn't get lucky a second time. The truth, he wanted the truth even at the cost of his own life. But what was the truth?
Miroku was dead, but even if he had been alive, even if everything had gone smoothly that night and Inuyasha had reached the temple finding the monk there, he probably wouldn't have accomplished anything. He had been delusional once again, blinded first by love, later by hate.
There was no other way of saying it, no matter how much he searched for it. Meeting Kikyo once again wouldn't improve anything; it would only push him further to the edge of the abyss. Black on white, she had written to her sister – the person she trusted most – that she had run off with the man she had always loved. And he, Inuyasha, who knows what he had been all this time. There wasn't a different story: Kikyo had fooled him.
What kind of regret was worth living with? He could keep going on for all his life never knowing the truth about Kikyo's behaviour or dying in vain for his fleeting truth, never knowing what really meant living.
If even everything went smoothly for them tomorrow, then the war would be over. The negotiations to get everything back to normal would begin – his father had told him the last time had gone like that, and the time before that too; it was all an endless circle – and he would have to wait months more. What would become of Kikyo? Deserters were always a mystery: most didn't dare to return even when the war was over; the shame was too much. Why would she come back anyway? She had ways of forming her new little family elsewhere; she hadn't even had any regard for her sisters, despite all the love she said she felt for them.
The longer he waited, the more Kikyo drifted away from him. Every second that passed emphasized the impossibility of his foolproof plan. Every second that passed, the truth was distorted by hatred and resentment, remorse and pain.
Inuyasha felt as if the weight of the entire war had fallen on his shoulders with this knowledge – with the knowledge that he would never see Kikyo again, nor discover the truth of all truths – and he aged hundreds of years at once.
Suddenly he felt tired and drained. What was worth fighting for?
Toga watched all these emotions pass through his son's eyes and distinguished the exact moment when his son seemed to give up on everything, the moment when wrinkles that were not there a few minutes before appeared on his young face and his shoulders slumped like his whole being.
His heart broke once more. How many more fragments would it split into?
His lungs struggled, his chest tightened, and the air seemed to lack. The Inu-no-Taisho, too, seemed, for a moment, to be standing on the edge of the precipice. However, the men in his family were not weak; they had been for a moment – yes, even Sesshomaru –, but the time had come to hold their heads up high and face the next battle in the right spirit.
He silently approached his son, and only when he put his hand on his shoulder, Inuyasha looked up at him with lost eyes. Their eyes met and seemed to tell each other the world: words that had never been said, apologies that had never been uttered, sorrows that had never been shared and regrets that had weighed down the soul too much, were all contained in two pairs of golden eyes.
The older demon's strong, broad shoulders took on a pain that a face so young should have never held. A face so young and so helpless.
"Son," he murmured. No words of apology, no explanation. It seemed as if everything had been said with just a look.
"Father," Inuyasha murmured back. "Father," he repeated, burying his face in his hands again, torn between being dejected and humiliated.
"Dad, I got it all wrong," he said again.
"No," Toga put a little more pressure on his shoulder, "You haven't done anything wrong yet, Inuyasha. But if you let this pain tear you apart and leave you immobile, then you will. Just like your old man."
Perhaps there was no need for Inuyasha to really explain to him what had happened in the enemy's lands, what had happened over the past two years. Toga had read everything in those eyes. He had read the same pain that had destroyed him since his sweet Izayoi was no longer beside him.
Everyone had always called her a weak and small human, but no one had ever recognized that his weak human had always been his rock.
He had been wrong. Sesshomaru had been wrong. But Inuyasha still had a chance to get back on the right track; his path had only been slightly diverted. Nothing was lost yet.
"Dad?" Inuyasha asked uncertainly, looking up at him once more. The lost look of a child who has done something bad and is now waiting for punishment.
"I never acknowledged your pain. I gave in to pain. I will never forgive it myself, Inuyasha. But nothing is lost yet. Don't make the same mistake I did, son. Get up now." The determination-laden gaze pinned Inuyasha on the spot and dared him to defy his father.
It was as if, at that moment, the General was giving an order to his subordinate. "Don't fail, or better, fail but get up, carry out your battles successfully."
Toga then turned his gaze to the portrait of his mate. For a moment, he seemed lost to get lost in memories. A genuine smile appeared on his lips. "No one said there would never be casualties in war. Some are harder on us than others. We learned that the hard way, my son."
Inuyasha looked at him with interest and then turned his eyes to the smiling portrait of his mother too.
"Battles are fought every day on all sorts of fields, not just the one we're heading to tomorrow at dawn, just as I told your brother." The half-demon snorted at the use of the last word; Toga ignored him. "But what if you don't stand up tomorrow in that field after someone knocks you down? What would have happened if in that clearing, after the arrow hit you, that priestess couldn't have helped you? You die, son; that's what happens. Sometimes we have young maidens to help us," he smiled again as he looked at his wife, "and sometimes we have to make it on our own."
"And other times, our old man might direct us towards the seemingly right choice," murmured Inuyasha, who was now beginning to get the hint.
Toga chuckled, "Yes, sometimes our old man can help... if you are willing to accept his help." Silence settled between them once more, but the demon resumed the conversation shortly after. "Tomorrow, you will have your chance, Inuyasha. You'll be able to make your choice: to stay still in your pain, in this limbo that seems to want to hold on tight on you and never let you go, or you can instead flail, kick, find your way out of that grip. Show everyone who you really are."
"What if I haven't figured out who I am myself, dad?" the half-demon asked, almost defiantly.
Toga shook his head. "Ah, it's hard to figure it out, son. Even when you get to my age, you have doubts, and you wonder if who you have been all your life was your real self or a mask; if the choices you have made up to now were the right ones, but do you know what the beauty in life is?" He gave him a penetrating look. "The dawn rises every morning, and with it, you always have the chance to take a turn, change your destiny, make a new choice. And who knows, maybe the other choice will be wrong as well, or maybe not, but at least you can say you tried. It's better than give in to the limbo." His vision blurred for a moment, and then his eyes filled with remorse. "Trust me, I know a thing or two about that," he murmured then in a hushed voice.
Inuyasha covered the hand that still lay on his shoulder with his own and squeezed it. "That is also a choice then, father..." he murmured. "The important thing is to realize if it's the wrong one or not and act accordingly. It seems to me that you are on the right track."
"You think so, son?" Their eyes met once more, and this time the roles were reversed. The father asked his son for comfort, asked his son for forgiveness, bowed to his son.
"I'm sure of it, dad. I'm as certain as I am that you are the Inu-no-Taisho," a genuine smile graced his lips, a small fang protruding from his lower lip and his eyes twinkling. His father laughed in response.
"Ah well, good thing then. Your mother would have come to haunt my dreams if I had continued down this path," he joked, "good thing she was able to get her message to me some other way."
She managed to, indeed. Izayoi was all in Inuyasha, in that smile that the hanyou had inherited, in the shape of his face or his eyes that, although had inherited his colour, contained her essence
"Yeah, mom would have done it, and then… not satisfied, she would have haunted mine too."
The night passed too quickly, between preparations, checks, shouts and orders. Several smells had invaded the castle and the nearest lands because of the array of feelings unleashed by Koga's announcement first and then the Inu-no-Taisho's.
The most predominant emotion was the thirst for revenge – and blood – combined with the adrenaline that made everyone more frantic before a battle. But this was the battle, and so everything was amplified to the highest levels.
The most violent and coarse demons wanted to enjoy tomorrow's confront as much as possible. Because it was the last one, they wanted to kill as many people as possible. An icy glance from the General had been enough to calm their spirits, but only partially.
Many among them were still harmless. Perhaps, they had lost a friend or a family member at the hands of a spiritualist and just wanted revenge. Others were those dark and hopeless souls who just wanted blood – no matter whose. They were worse than Sesshomaru and those like him who thought that anyone who wasn't a pure-blooded demon wasn't even worthy of their attention. No, these hopeless souls would have even killed a friend if the opportunity presented itself, and no matter how much effort was put into driving them out of the western lands, new ones were always born. These were the ones that Toga kept most in check because, although their strength was needed to eliminate other souls like them in the enemy army, they were also capable of killing an ally.
Inuyasha and Koga wrinkled their noses as they passed by a group of those, their scent tainted with the unmistakable stench of hatred, certainly not pleasant. Many of them were also aroused by the battle, and the more you kept away from them, the better. They could be cruel in many ways, often even without being noticed.
Anxiety and worry also stood out among the various emotions, though to a minimal degree. They were those demons who did not like to go into battle already sure of the outcome. They did not like to show themselves so sure because they were convinced that it would bring them and everyone else bad luck.
And lastly, there was apathy. Some prepared for battle devoid of any feeling or emotion because perhaps it helped them get into the best frame of mind or brought more control to the surface. These demons wore a mask from the beginning to the end of the battle, not letting anything that happened around them affect them. Only the fight and the enemy to take down existed.
Inuyasha, fresh from his conversation with his father – his emotions still in turmoil – was hard to place in a category. The variety of emotions and smells he found in the great hall didn't help him keep his already fragile nerves in check, and as soon as he stepped inside, he realized how stupid it had been to even think about going there. Koga, beside him, sensed his unstable mood and led him away.
After a good ten minutes, they found themselves in a clearing far from the castle and remained abandoned for most of the year. Well, actually, it could be said that it was only inhabited twelve days a year. Sometimes more, when Inuyasha needed to be alone and to be sure no one would find him, something that had happened all too often since the war had begun.
Koga had taken him to the small, hidden clearing that served as a secret place on the nights of the new moon.
No one was aware of the small building that dwelled there because it was protected by a barrier that Toga had erected once he discovered his son would be weaker once a month and would need protection. A barrier that he kept strengthening over time to make sure it wouldn't give way.
Inuyasha huffed slightly. Ah, so that was Koga's goal, to set him up and then barrage him with questions. Just the best way to prepare for battle, have a firm grip on his nerves and control his raging heartbeat.
"Keh. If you're going to grill me, you mangy wolf, you're sorely mistaken," he began.
Koga gave him a sly smile, then a pat on the shoulder that caught him off guard and made him lose his balance for half a second. "Don't worry, mutt," his friend replied, "I realized that being around that mass of horny demons wouldn't do you any good."
"Keh!"
Koga let himself fall to the ground in the tall grass and Inuyasha followed shortly after, legs crossed, hands hidden in the sleeves of the fire rat's robe and Tessaiga leaning on his left shoulder. They remained silent for a good few minutes. A bee came to bother them and flew dangerously close to one of Inuyasha's ears, which started to move even more frantically – perhaps out of nervousness or to chase said bee away.
"Are you going enter the battlefield like a nervous wreck, dog-boy?" the wolf demon asked him, watching his movements.
"Keh!" Inuyasha repeated a third time.
"Don't 'keh' me, Inuyasha, it doesn't work with me. Whatever happened there, or at any other time, you better get it over with before tomorrow morning. I don't want to tell your father I let you die on the battlefield," he told him in a stern and not at all playful tone.
Inuyasha narrowed his gaze and wrinkled his nose. "No one told you that you have to feel responsible."
"I have to!" Koga retorted, "Especially considering that tomorrow morning, on that damn field, you'll be fighting shoulder to shoulder with me like you always have, and I accept nothing different. So if you get hit because you're too lost in Inuyasha-land, the blame would be on me too; get a grip, man. Tomorrow night, when the first part is done, I want to get wasted with my best friend."
Inuyasha, who rarely had to listen to Koga rant – well, not that the wolf-demon was really the type to do so often unless his patience wore thin –, didn't know how to answer and was therefore on the verge of letting out yet another "Keh". A glare from the wolf stopped him. The latter began again.
"Besides, I don't even want to start on all the messes we'll have to clean up when the war's over," he complained. "You're not going to leave me to handle this all by myself, are you?"
"You're very confident, Koga. Has someone ever told you that?" Inuyasha muttered.
"I have to, otherwise how am I supposed to go on? I'd have died the first day. Do you remember how close I came the first time when we weren't quite sure how those shitty spiritualists operated yet? Ah, man...I still remember the earful you and then your old man gave me," he laughed. "That arrow fucking burned."
"Yeah... I still wonder how you survived," Inuyasha mused.
"Maybe the ancestors decided it wasn't my time yet. Or maybe they knew how much you need me the moment you start spouting melancholy, meaningless bullshit. Who else would bring you to your senses? Not to mention that on new moon nights, you would die of boredom. I have to stay alive at least until you find a nice warm body to keep you company instead of me."
The half-demon made a half-grimace, but if Koga noticed, he didn't give it away and continued with his speech, not before giving him another nice pat.
"Well, anyway, now you can count a couple of near-death experiences too, can't you? How many times have you come close in a couple of days? Once, twice? It changes your perception... an experience like that, man... it opens your eyes," he sighed.
Inuyasha rolled his eyes without answering him and remained silent; Koga didn't press him.
Open his eyes. Well, he had opened his eyes before, hadn't he? When Kagome had brought him the incriminating letter.
He considered it for a few minutes.
No, maybe Koga was right. After reading the infamous letter, his eyelids had remained a little hooded, not fully opened, and he had wandered partly blindly into enemy territory. Yes, blindly.
His eyes had only opened fully after the news of Miroku's death, hadn't they? Death would open your eyes – whether it was sooner or later.
"Maybe you're right, wolfy."
"Of course I'm right, mutt! I'm a font of knowledge myself," Koga replied with a third harsh pat.
"Oi! Will you stop with those hands of yours or not?" Inuyasha said, now pissed.
His friend laughed in response, "Well... if you don't wake up, I have to make you react somehow, don't I?" Inuyasha glared at him.
"It doesn't matter anyway if you open your eyes or not," the latter murmured again. "How do you enter the battlefield without having someone to rely on? A reason to fight?"
Koga turned to him and really looked at him for the first time since they had sat down. "A reason, huh? And who says you don't have one, mutt? You must be really blind then, hopeless." He huffed, shaking his head.
Neither of them spoke again that night. They sat there for a long time before leaving the clearing and preparing for the following morning. But one thing was for sure, Inuyasha was not the same half-demon who had entered it a few hours earlier.
Were his father and Koga conspiring against him that day? Or perhaps it was so evident that he was desperate that even Koga –Koga – felt the need to abandon his playful ways and give him an earful?
Both, however, had given him food for thought, and at least his emotions were less violent and his nerves more steady as he retreated to his rooms.
The night passed far too quickly, indeed. The first rays of sunlight were perceived almost as an affront by the half-demon who, alongside his friend, was already on the battlefield and watched the figures come towards the border.
His hand was firmly on Tessaiga's hilt, and his mask hid most of his face, leaving only his golden eyes uncovered. They were reduced to two slits as the enemy approached.
The eyes, however, were the only way to read the emotions of any demons now, and Inuyasha's seemed to soften for a moment.
Inuyasha's mind rang with his friend's last words the night before. Who knows what Koga was really referring to when he had said the half-demon was a hopeless blind man. But, as he stood there mulling them over, the face of a woman with long curly black hair appeared before him like in a vision. Only for a second, not long, but it was enough to recognize that genuine, sometimes concerned smile and her dimple.
It was not his mother's face. It was not Kikyo's.
So it was true… Inuyasha did have something to fight for again.
His lips curved into a smile, but there, about to end the war for good, and with a mask hiding his face, no one noticed. Only those golden eyes, suddenly full of life again, could have been indicators for anyone who glanced at the half-demon for just a moment.