"It does not do to dwell on dreams- remember that."
-Albus Dumbledore to Harry Potter, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's
Stone
"Do thou thy worst."
-Mordred, Le Morte d'Arthur
Chapter 5- An Ash Grey Inheritance
Inuyasha settled himself into the corner of
the room, pulling Tetsusiaga up against his shoulder as he prepared to
rest. It had been a long, frustrating day, made only worse by the fact
that they seemed to be going in circles. Kagome was adamant she could not
sense the exact location of the missing shard; he believed her. But still.
Shifting around, he wished for a convenient tree. Corners of rooms just
didn't let him keep an eye on everything at once. Not with the strange
attacks. He could break down the screen between their rooms in an instant.
He already had, hearing Kagome scream last night. The enemy this time made
him uncomfortable, particularly since he didn't know how to fight it. Intangible
enemies...yurei. It was annoying. And worrisome. How to fight a nightmare?
Sango still slept, though lightly now, not
like the dead. After eating themselves, Inuyasha followed Kagome with a
tray of steaming soup, hoping the unconscious girl had awakened. Now it
sat beside the shoji, cold and uneaten.
So they found a headstone, had they? The hanyou
looked over at Shippou and Miroku, both lying on futons. Shippou was snoring
away, curled up, but he could see Miroku's eyes still open, staring at
the ceiling. Inuyasha wasn't sure if the houshi was restless, or simply
not tired. The findings of the day amounted to very little; Ukifune's memorial,
and several sets of empty hands. Maybe in the morning, he'd take a look
at this memorial himself. He didn't expect to find much, but best to check
it out regardless, shikon no kakera or no shikon no kakera. Right now though,
staying within range of the others was more important, he admitted grumpily.
His hand twitched to the Tetsusiaga, claw tapping hollowly against the
sheath. Nothing would happen to Kagome on his watch.
The thoughts spun in lazy circles in his head,
sleep not quite in reach of his mind, held back by determination and watchfulness.
Hearing something stir, he opened his eyes a bit to watch Miroku toss off
the light cover, his dark silhouette moving against the moonlit woven window.
Inuyasha's golden eyes opened a fraction, watching the houshi from under
his bangs. "Oy, bouzu. Where're you going?"
Miroku's shadow paused, not startled at the
sound. "Out. Be back soon," came the reply, accompanied by the muffled
ringing of his staff. Inuyasha frowned, but wasn't about to argue. If Miroku
had to take a piss, that was his business.
"Feh," he muttered, folding his arms more
tightly and closing his eyes.
The darkened shadow on the floor moved quietly
towards the door, sliding it back and stepping through, light shifting
then returning to dark as it closed.
Light fell in sharp contrast to the blackness
outside the rooms, and it passed over him several times as he moved along
the corridor, glad that whoever had built the old palace had night wanderers
in mind. The light was not great, but enough to see by. Enough to hide
in, but enough to see. Water flowed underfoot as he passed the indoor walkways,
leading over the streams and tiny lakes of water that flowed under the
structure of the mansion. Miroku hesitated under the curving slope of the
black roof, checking the ofuda placed there. The dark aura over this place
was intensifying, and he could feel it. It was slight. Not enough to speak
about. But there, all the same. Contrary to the darkness was the little
garden and its pool of lotuses, resting so peacefully just beyond the hedge,
hiding the tall cedar and the three memorial stones of the mansion's original
family.
He wondered why.
It bothered him enough to keep him awake,
and finally he decided he wouldn't be able to sleep until he'd been there
again, seeing the thing at night, though he doubted that would change it.
The temperature had dropped as night settled in,
chilling him slightly, and he shrugged a bit deeper into his robes, resisting
a yawn. He could sleep later.
The garden was only a short walk at a fast
pace, and he headed towards it, carefully retracing his steps from that
evening. It was strange, dinner that night. There was a face missing, still
sleeping, still hurt. The handprint on his face faded after a few minutes,
but Miroku did want to know what exactly he had done this time to deserve
a good smacking. It wasn't as though he was leaning in to kiss her or anything.
Not that he wasn't the last time, but...he allowed himself a slightly lecherous
little grin at the memory. Damn, she was strong. And it was a misunderstanding...more
or less. It definitely was this time.
Broad maple leaves dappled the path before
him, and lacy white flowers hemmed the edges of the worn footpath. He followed
his shadow along, passing by the flowerbeds in their neat rows, blooms
tightly closed for the night. With the moon just waxing, there was enough
light to see by, and as he drew closer to the pond, tiny moving points
of golden light swirled and eddied in the air, fireflies, come out for
the night sky. The peaceful aura that emanated from this place seemed dead
somehow, the warmth of a star replaced by nothingness.
"I didn't imagine it," he mumbled, partially
to convince himself. Energy didn't simply vanish, good or bad, within a
few hours span of time. Moving around the hedge, he first looked at the
black stones before the tree, then craned his neck back to look up into
the thick branches. Fireflies swirled upward there, spiraling downwards
and flickering around the garden. One rested lightly on the top of the
smallest marker, glowing, fading, glowing again. "Nothing."
He turned and moved to the pond, pushing past
the willow fronds. Oddly, the flowers here were not closed, but open, floating
on the still water calmly, sitting atop reflected stars.
There was the soft sound of a footfall, and
Miroku spun, staff up and ready to fight. Sango jumped back a step, also
in fighting position, hands up and eyes narrowed. "Houshi-sama, what are
you doing out here?"
"I came to investigate the gravestones again.
What are you doing here? I thought you were still injured." He did not
lower his guard, watching her with mild suspicion. He did not know how
Sango had been injured that morning, other than near drowning. And she
was hardly one to be easily attacked. Who knew what she'd seen?
"I got up a little while ago...I got some
food," likewise, she also remained suspicious, but backed up slightly.
"Being out all day makes you hungry. The food at the door was cold. Did
Kagome bring it?"
Miroku relaxed a bit, standing upright again.
"Hai. After dinner."
Slowly, she nodded, lowering her hands as
well and stepping forward cautiously. "Today is still today, isn't it?
How long was I out?"
"It's later tonight," he confirmed, but then
realized she had not answered the question of why she was here. "Why are
you out here?"
Her eyes narrowed slightly as she edged forward,
and he watched as she slowly began to understand he was not a disguised
enemy there to attack her. "On my way back...I saw something moving. So
I followed. Just you, I guess," she explained warily. "What did you say
about gravestones? How much have I missed?"
"Not too much," he admitted with a sigh, shrugging
and setting his staff aside, against the willow's trunk. "Shippou claims
there's a ghost wandering around here. A little girl. We found her memorial
this evening."
"A little girl is causing all this?" she said,
slightly disbelieving. "You're sure?"
"Shippou doesn't seem to think so, but so
far it's our best lead. I've begun to wonder if he wasn't imagining things.
No one else has seen the child. You were attacked...do you remember anything?
Kagome-sama said she didn't...."
Sango shook her head sharply, as though trying
to dislodge a disturbing memory. Expressions crossed her face, fear and
anger at once, falling into controlled blankness. "No. Nothing. Just...nothing."
He sighed, shaking his head and giving her
a small, sideways smile. "So nothing on the slapping thing?"
She blinked. "I slapped you again?"
"Hai."
"Oh," she blinked, then frowned suspiciously
at him, considering all the times she'd smacked him in the past. "Did you
deserve it?"
He chuckled once, grinning at her mischievously.
"Not that time."
She gave him a glare in return, and the smile
faded away as he turned back to the water. The darkness still hedged the
place, held back by the tiny dancing lights on the water. She followed
his gaze to the water's surface, looking at her own reflection, then his.
"Nothing here?"
"No," he replied, serious once more. The water
did not ripple, and was perfect in its mirrorlike quality. He could see
she had dressed quickly and quietly, her hair still messy from long sleep,
and a crease lay stretched across her left cheek from where it rested on
the small pillow. She began to yawn, and covered her mouth with her hand
politely. Quietly, something rattled, clacking together, and she froze,
jerking her hand down again.
"I'm heading back, if you're just looking
at things. You can catch me up in-"
"Sango, what was that noise?" he asked, lifting
his eyes from the pond and focusing on her. The sound was familiar. He
heard it every time he moved his right hand, didn't he? "Are you wearing
a rosary?"
Sango looked like she'd been caught, nervously
looking away from him. "Eh...uh...hai." Her head snapped up as he suddenly
moved forward, a hand reaching out. She backed away, more than ready to
apply a good hard deterrent to any perverted motions he was about to make.
Instantly, he brought his hands up, motioning
for peace. "Just want to look at your hand, Sango."
Anger subsided into embarrassment, and she
hid it quickly, quietly bringing up her hand to reveal her wrist. "I just
thought it would be good to have in case something tried to come after
me again," she admitted reluctantly, the beads clicking quietly against
each other as she looked at them. "It's the only one I have." Glancing
back up, she saw his expression, somewhat sad. "Nani?"
"So you've kept it?" he asked, slightly curious.
Slowly, she nodded, looking away and fighting a blush. Watching her, he
felt unusually aware of the fact there was nobody around, and how beautiful
Sango could look in the night, shifting from foot to foot in attempt to
avoid his gaze. Her keeping his rosary pleased him somehow, but to know
it had failed her bothered him. "It didn't seem to do you much good this
time," he allowed, turning away with a frown.
She moved forward, standing beside him and
trying to catch his eyes. It seemed strange, for him to be thinking protectively.
For a moment she debated with herself on what to say. Make him feel better,
giving him a mental image of her swimming around and bathing, or let him
think he'd let her down somehow? She sighed. "I wasn't wearing it when
I was attacked...."
"Ah."
Her eyebrows lifted, puzzled at the lack of
response. "Daijobu ka, houshi-sama? Are you all right?"
Slowly he shook his head, looking up. The
image in the water stirred as a leaf fell into it, sending ripples over
the water. "I'm just not feeling myself tonight," he sighed.
Quietly, she nodded, trying to decide whether
or not she should head back in. It was late, and though sleeping all day
kept her from being tired, she should at least go...she paused in her train
of thought. Then her eyebrow twitched, and she felt her hands form into
fists. Something warm was resting on her rear end, and that something definitely
did not belong there. Wheeling away and breaking the grab, she brought
her hand back, ready for that good hard deterrent right now. "Not feeling
yourself, are you? So you're going to feel me instead?!"
Smack.
Miroku rubbed his face, sporting a fresh handprint
twice in the same day. He watched Sango turn, ready to storm off, but before
she could do so much as turn, she froze, staring, dropping into a defensive
position. "Houshi-sama."
The words were so cold, he turned, barely
able to register shock before a feeling of fury descended on him. There,
just on the path of the garden, stood Naraku.
Something around him shifted, the world that
was close tilting, distorting as he placed a hand on the rosary sealing
the kazaana. "Sango. Go get the others."
"You think I'm leaving you alone now? Baka.
You'll get killed."
"Very sweet," came the voice from within the
baboon mask. In the moonlight, the white pelt gleamed, surrounding the
figure within. "But I grow tired of this game." From under the pelt, one,
slender hand emerged, pointing and then flicking fingers at the direction
of Miroku. At once, the houshi pulled on the rosary, ripping it open to
the familiar strain of the void. Naraku was here. No little ghost girls.
No strange nightmares. Just another plan. Just another trap....
But as the beads slid through his fingers,
there was a cracking sound, as though glass were breaking.
The rosary shattered in his hand.
Pain whipped upward through is arm, control
over the curse draining away with the fragments of beads falling to the
ground. So much for the quest. So damn sudden. No big battle. Just showing
up there, on the path, no warning. So damn sudden. But if this was his
time to die, unable to seal the curse, then sure as hell he was taking
that bastard with him.
Soil and rocks flew wildly around him, fireflies
dying as they were pulled in by the kazaana. He turned, pulling it away
from the garden and from Sango, who was trying to avoid the flying debris.
Dizzy, so dizzy, he felt like his arm was on fire, breaking, the hole expanding.
Cracking. He aimed it straight at the hateful figure before him, trying
to move forward. But Naraku remained still, braced against the wind, the
white pelt cloak writhing around him.
"Kazaana!"
The pelt flew off, revealing the figure beneath.
But this person was not Naraku. Instead, a
young woman, pale, blank white eyes watching the moment of his destruction.
Her dark hair was shorn at the shoulders, rippling forward as he tried
to pull her into the void with him. Ash grey robes draped her, still and
long, sleeves hiding her hands. A tiny smile touched the tips of her lips,
a smile without amusement.
Enemy. Whoever she was, an enemy. He was being
torn apart.
"Houshi-sama!"
The world shifted again, looking over his
shoulder. So slowly, so very slowly, he could see Sango moving forward,
not away, a hand clasping the old rosary he had given her. It was a way
to seal the kazaana. But blackness began to overwhelm the pain of it, circling
in on his vision, dulling the world which rose up around him. And he could
see her face, suddenly horrified, as the world became an explosion of nothingness.
Pain did not belong in the nothingness.
Blackness is a void, empty of sensation.
And yet, something stung.
A horrified face.
Naraku.
Kazaana.
Stinging.
"Houshi-sama! Daijobu ka?"
Fireflies blinking out.
A horrified face.
Naraku.
"Baka! Wake up!"
Wake up?
The stinging sensation repeated itself, sharply,
and he realized someone was smacking his face repeatedly. Not hard, but
enough to cause pain. He tried opening his eyes. Failed. Tried again.
Stinging.
A horrified face.
A worried face, hovering over his, eyes wide
and worried, searching his. "Houshi-sama? Daijobu ka?"
Sango watched, waiting for a response. He
blinked hard several times, the world shifting around him dimly. The floor
was hard, wooden, and as his eyes focused, he saw the roof of the verandah,
the outer wall of the mansion, and the stone steps leading down to the
pathways of the courtyards. Then to the face floating above him, questioning.
It was easy to reach forward, pull himself
up while pulling her to him. "I thought I'd killed you," he mumbled, relief
coloring his voice as he rested his face against her shoulder. Not dead.
Alive. Both of them. Alive.
Sango held herself stiffly, partly from surprise,
partly from uncertainty. Quiet, alone in the moonlit shadows, save for
Kirara who was sitting politely against the wall, watching this display
with quiet interest. Houshi-sama had been attacked, that much was clear.
Disoriented, confused. Probably sick too, she decided. Crazy, perverted
houshi...crazy, perverted houshi who seemed so relieved suddenly....
"D...daijobu...ka?"
"A woman..." Sango almost let her confusion
slip into anger. Barely conscious and already babbling about women? But
Miroku was not done, continuing, "grey robes...of a nun...white eyes...."
The words fell softer and softer, until he
relaxed, his grip loosening and hands sliding away from her shoulders.
She caught him before he could hit his head on the floor. "Kirara, go-"
The firecat was already on her feet, but growling.
Alarmed, Sango edged herself around, searching for whatever was upsetting
Kirara. There was nothing there but the wind, cold and sharp.
Something broke. The sound of splintering
wood cracked through the air, booming loudly as the planks of the walkway
were split down the middle, torn up in a perfect row. She flung herself
against the wall for the slight promise of safety, pulling Miroku with
her to avoid the splinters.
The sudden noise was heard through the mansion,
and the world descended on the scene.
"What the hell's going on?"
"Sango-chan! Daijobu ka?"
"Waah! What happened?!"
Sango lifted her head, looking over her shoulder
to see the others come to a skidding halt at the edge of the destroyed
verandah. She couldn't stay there, clearly. The floor could cave in, and
it was a steep drop to the ground below. Wedged next to the wall, she brought
Miroku's arm around her shoulders, and pushed herself upright, dragging
him along. "Houshi-sama's been attacked," she said, hurrying when a floorboard
collapsed, hitting the ground hollowly, sending broken dishes into the
darkness below them with a clatter. She glanced at his closed eyes and
relaxed features, murmuring, "You've been eating too many sweets," as Inuyasha
grabbed the two strugglers, coming into arms reach, taking Miroku's weight
from Sango's shoulders.
"Sango-chan, what are you doing out here?
I thought you were asleep...." Kagome stepped forward, helping Sango regain
her balance as Inuyasha let go.
"I woke up a little while ago, and-" she began
to explain, only to be interrupted by the sound of arrival of their hosts,
Kagan with an arm out to keep Yanagi safely behind him. A hand rested on
a katana, and he did not look happy.
"What the hell's going on?"
"Miroku got attacked!" Shippou shouted in
reply, perched on Kagome's shoulder. The two older people stood at the
crux in the verandah, a sharp angle several lengths away. At their feet
lay the end of the destruction.
Kagan's face grew hard set, but seeing the
danger was over, his hand fell to the side a bit, and Yanagi edged her
way forward, murmuring something in his ear. Kagan nodded, and the two
turned to the railing, Kagan jumping down first to help his wife to the
ground.
"Inuyasha," Kagome said quietly, turning to
the hanyou. "We should go inside. It's not safe out here...."
"And it'll be safer inside?"
"There'll be Miroku-sama's..." she hesitated,
then turned and blinked in mild surprise. Breaking off her train of thought,
she glanced at Sango. "He was on the porch?" At her nod, Kagome bit her
lip nervously, eyes growing troubled. "Inside the ofuda barrier?"
"Kuso," Inuyasha said, following Kagome's
train of thought. Sure enough, one of the paper wards was still posted
on the railing of the verandah, undamaged by the attack.
"Is the houshi-sama all right?" Yanagi asked
quietly as she ascended the stone steps, haltingly moving forward. "You
can't just have him slung around your neck all night. Come on," she decided,
taking charge of the situation by helping Inuyasha. When he did not protest
the old woman's help, she began to walk, and by doing so, broke the uncertainty
of the group, and all began to follow them, returning to the empty rooms.
So great was their hurry toward the sound
that the shoji remained open, futon covers rumpled and trailing over the
floor. Inuyasha and Yanagi angled the unconscious monk onto his futon,
laying him down. Yanagi pulled the light blanket up over him as Kagome
slipped into the girls' room, returning a moment later with her First Aid
kit. Shippou hovered between them, fidgeting nervously.
His job done, Inuyasha turned to Sango and
Kagan, who had taken place by the door. Eyes narrowing, he gave Sango a
glare, tone slightly accusatory. "I didn't hear you get up."
She sighed, running a hand over her forehead.
For a moment, her fingertips brushed over the gauze bandage Kagome applied
that morning. Slipping on the rock had given her a cut and purple bruise
over her right eye, and the white butterfly bandages were keeping it sealed.
"I'm not a taiji-ya for nothing, Inuyasha," she told him, placing a hand
lightly on the short sword at her hip. "I didn't go out unarmed. And I
took Kirara with me, as well," she glanced at the cat at her feet, large
red eyes turned upward as she kept up with the conversation, head swiveling
back and forth. "I can be quiet."
"Feh," he grumbled, folding his arms and scowling.
"It's dangerous."
"I take it you were attacked as well?" Kagan
interrupted, getting a look at Sango's bandage. "I didn't see you wandering
aimlessly with the others today."
"This morning," she frowned, glancing at Miroku.
"Kagome?"
She lifted her head, snapping the First Aid
kit closed and answering the unspoken question with a little smile. "He's
okay. Just passed out. What happened?"
Sango folded her hands, lacing the fingers
together. "I woke up a little while ago...the food was cold...did you bring
it, Kagome?" she asked as she thought, and got a nod for the reply. Sango
nodded, continuing, "I thought I'd heat it up or something. So I was headed
to the kitchen...and I saw houshi-sama lying there."
"Did he say anything?" Shippou queried, tilting
his head to the side quizzically. "Anything about what happened?"
She smiled faintly at the little kitsune,
then grew very serious, eyes clouding as she tried to concentrate on what
he said, rather than what he did. She shifted from foot to foot for a moment,
then continued her story. "Something about a woman in a nun's robes. Grey
robes, of a nun, he said. And white eyes."
"White eyes?" Kagome asked instantly, head
coming up a bit at the mention of them. So quietly Kanna stood, the darkness
of her eyes as white and pale as the rest of her. "Did you see..." she
began, and her thought was confirmed when Sango already began to nod.
"Kohaku...his eyes...." she closed hers, lashes
squeezed tightly shut against the flashes of memory. The fragments of thought
were unnaturally clear, falling like shards of glass through her mind,
each cutting. She got control of herself, opening her eyes. "I slapped
him when I woke up, didn't I?"
"Yeah, but that's not exactly unusual," Inuyasha
intoned dryly, almost smirking at the somehow amusing memory of that. But
he also said, more seriously, "Did he do something to Kohaku in the dream?"
Her eyes fell to the floor, and she quietly
said, "He took the shard from his back. I caught him. He died."
It was blunt, but they understood. Yanagi
and Kagan exchanged looks, not knowing the background of the story, but
the effect on the storyteller and on the other members of the group was
enough to give them an idea. "A family member, Sango-san?" Yanagi asked
softly from where she knelt on the floor, beside Miroku.
Just as softly, she replied, "My younger brother."
"Ah. I see."
Stillness.
It stretched into a long moment, broken by
Inuyasha's sudden turning and movement to the painted screens between rooms,
then harshly shoving them aside with a scraping, breaking sound. It contrasted
sharply to the quiet, causing Kagome to wince as wood squealed against
wood. The two rooms, with the screen shoved against the windows, were now
one room. Inuyasha turned, facing the wide eyes that watched him and meeting
their gazes. "Nobody goes out alone. Especially not at night." He locked
eyes with Kagan, then Yanagi, repeating, "Nobody."
Yanagi frowned, preparing to stand. She did
not like to take orders, particularly from an overbearing hanyou a good
many years younger than her. "You can't possibly expect-"
"I'm inclined to agree," a voice intoned,
thoughtfully bland. Several sets of eyes switched from Inuyasha to Kagan,
somewhat startled to see him in agreement, a hand clasping his chin, brows
furrowed in thought. He gave Inuyasha a sideways glance, adding, "Maybe
some of the good luck we've had will rub off on you. You can't seem to
protect anything on your own."
A dark growl began to form
in Inuyasha's throat, but part of him knew Kagan was doing the same as
he would have done; try cover up for agreeing with someone he didn't really
like that much. After a moment, he settled into just a, "Feh. At least
you seem to have a brain in that withered head of yours, jiji."
Kagan snorted at the bravado, taking the attitude
in kind. "At least you know when to listen to your elders."
"It was my fucking idea, old man!"
"You will speak properly to this 'old man,'
boy!"
Yanagi and Kagome sighed, shaking their heads.
*****************************************
Okay, let's see....
That whole scene between Miroku and Sango?
Eheh...big dream. I know, I'm terrible, it wasn't real. But the discussion
about the rosary...that's lifted from the manga. It's in Chapter 206, 'The
Lady in the Mountain.' Miroku gives Sango a rosary, and nothing's been
said about it since then...so I'm assuming she's still got it. (I mean,
what else would she do? Throw it away? Give it back? Nah...where's the
fun in that?)
Also, in the dream, when Miroku sucks in 'Naraku's'
baboon pelt, it reveals a woman in 'a nun's robes' underneath. I have to
admit, I'm no expert on Buddist fashion. But again, I'm refering to things
mentioned in the "Tale of Genji" as well as another book, "The
Tale of Murasaki" by Liza Dalby. (Excellent book! Historical fiction
about Murasaki Shikibu's life...it's an incredible read...highly reccomended.)
In both books, Heian era Buddhist nuns are described as wearing "dull"
or "grey" colored robes, and cut their hair short. So, this character is
taking that description.
So, ja ne til next time.
-Queen