Field of Innocence
By Lady of the Ink
Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha, but you knew that . . .I hope. But I do own this plot and all the twists that it takes.
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Chapter Twelve
Several long moments passed in silence as the two women became lost in their thoughts. Rin was struggling to absorb everything that Myra had told her and reconcile it with her own memories. She recalled her father and brothers' deaths with the detachment of a child who had been too young to fully understand at the time. She had known that they'd died on the same day but she'd never been told the details. Her mother had been vague on the subject in what was probably an attempt to cushion the blow.
It was her mother's behavior that she was focusing on at the moment. Had there been signs of what was to come, signs that she had been too young to see or understand? Were the answers to both Myra's and her own questions waiting to be found in her memory? She had always thought about the events that had come after: the rush to leave town and the horror that had found them anyway. She had never looked closely at the things that her mother and said and done right before that. Maybe it was time that she did.
Coming to that decision allowed Rin to refocus on her surroundings once more. The first thing that she noticed were the lengthening shadows in the room. More time than she had thought had passed during their conversation and the moments of contemplation that had followed. If she didn't start back to Jinenji's farm right away, she would be completing the walk in total darkness.
She climbed to her feet with a slowness that was a reflection of her reluctance to leave. There was a small, subconscious fear that this would be the last time she'd have a chance to speak with someone who knew the things she herself had forgotten. It was irrational, she knew, and a product of all the time security had slipped through her fingers just when she thought her grip was tightest. There was no logical reason for her to feel panicky, and yet she couldn't banish the feeling.
Myra walked with her to the door and clasped her hands between her own. She smiled fondly. "Whatever happened in the past, I'm glad you've come home. Things can only go better this time. Don't spend too much time dwelling on the bad memories; you've got an entire lifetime to good ones here."
She gave Rin's hands a final squeeze before letting them drop. Rin gave her the brightest smile she could manage before she waved and stepped into the street. Her feet started back toward the herb farm but her mind was somewhere else. As she walked unseeingly past the people and buildings, Myra's parting comments were running through her head in an unending loop. As much as she had been coming to like the town, she hadn't really thought about her future there. She'd been taking her life one day at a time since the fire at her cottage.
Trying to look forward in time for the first time, Rin felt a little uncomfortable with the idea of committing herself to anywhere for a long period. As much as she, like most other people, wanted the security of a place to belong, she just wasn't sure that this was where she would find that. The last time that she had felt truly safe and secure had been during her childhood, with her parents and brothers around her.
Her steps slowed as she pondered that. Her time at the cottage had been a good time in her life, bringing a sense of contentment that she'd thought she'd never regain after her mother's death. But as nice as it had been, she wouldn't have even thought to compare it to her life with her family. Being away from people who might do her harm had also kept her from the ones she might have grown close to, become friends with. It hadn't been until she'd begun living with Yori and Jinenji that she'd realized how starved she was for companions to share everything with, the good and the bad.
She smiled a little as she thought that maybe she had been looking for the wrong thing this whole time. She had been looking for security through physical things like a solid home and money saved. All along the real source of the security that she remembered hadn't been the home but the people who had filled it. She'd find the place she wanted to spend the rest of her life by looking for the people who made her feel the safest and most at ease.
An image rose unbidden in her mind of a being of shades of white. Long silvery hair that flowed like liquid moonlight rested over clothing just slightly lighter. Pale features etched a face that was imperious perfection and haughty beauty. Tall and strong and yet able to move as quickly and quietly as wisps of morning fog, he was a mass of contradictions.
Sesshomaru. He had appeared in her life by a twist of fate. He'd saved her life and shown her to a fresh start. During the short time that they had known each other, he had made gestures that would bind him to her memory. Every day that she woke up was a day that she owed to him. The home, job, and friends that she counted herself so lucky to have could all be traced back to him bringing her to this town.
Rin thought back to the days she had spent traveling with him. She had just lost her home and nearly all of her possessions in a fire that had also come very close to taking her life. She had nowhere to go; her only friend lived in the same town as the men who had come after her. Going there would have been asking for more trouble. When he'd offered her a chance at something else, she'd felt like accepting it was the only choice that she could make.
She should have felt troubled during that trip. She had no idea where he was leading her or what she would find once she got there. Her entire existence was up in the air and at the mercy of a demon she had only just met. He easily could have killed her or abandoned her along the way. He could have led her into danger or to a fate even worse than dying and there would have been no one to stop him.
Yes, she should have felt the entire spectrum of negative emotions during that trip . . .but she hadn't. She'd found a sort of freedom in the unknown and, even more unbelievably, a kind of comfort in the presence of the remote Sesshomaru. He had asked her for nothing in return for his help, not even conversation. Even if it was just in her own mind, she felt as though he had accepted her exactly as she was. He didn't expect her to act a certain way or conform to any rules. She was just herself and for whatever reason, that was the person that he had helped.
She thought back to the liberating sensation of that time with a tinge of wistfulness. She had felt less like she had nothing to hold onto and more like there was nothing holding her down. There were no obligations to meet, no people to hide from. She was anonymous and untouchable by all the horrible things that had chased her for so long and as long as Sesshomaru was beside her, she knew that nothing new would come to bother her.
Rin laughed at her whimsical notions as the roof of the larger cabin came into view. It had to be the stress of what she'd remembered that was making her have such fanciful ideas. Sesshomaru probably hadn't spared her a thought while he was helping her, let alone since. Making him into something more, even just inside her own mind, was nothing short of foolishness. She'd likely have felt the same way about anyone who's come home to her rescue at that moment. Romanticizing the memory of someone she'd probably never see again was just a waste of time.
A movement of shadow on shadow caught her eye and brought her attention back to her surroundings. She stared at it until she recognized the large form of Jinenji. When she gave him a little wave, he hurriedly ducked inside. His reaction to her gesture made her pause until the realization that he had been waiting for her dawned. A gentle warmth flowed through her at the evidence that he was looking after her in his own way.
Maybe she didn't plan to stay here forever, she thought to herself, but there were friends she wouldn't easily leave behind. For now and as long as it lasted, she was happy with the home she had here.
Still smiling to herself, Rin made her way into her cabin. Her mind was clear as she washed up and had a simple dinner. It was while she was washing the few dishes that she had used that her thoughts turned back to her discussion with Myra. Something the older woman had asked had stuck with her and she wanted to give it more thought.
There was a rocking chair in one corner of the room and that was where Rin chose to sit. She could still remember her mother rocking her when she was young and the action had brought her a sense of calm. She had a feeling she would need all the comfort she could get for what she was about to do.
Myra had asked whether she had noticed her mother acting oddly in the days after her father's death and before their sudden departure from town. She'd never thought of that time period when she allowed herself to think of the past at all. Her own choice of memories had been when all five of them were together and the nightmares that had followed her were always about what came after. It was possible that there was a clue to what her mother had known that she had overlooked at the time.
Rin thought back to the plan she had come up with just before leaving Myra's house. She knew that the best way to remember anything would be to go over it all one step at a time. She wanted Myra to correct or add to the things she could remember, but it wasn't something she could do verbally. To tell Myra everything that she knew, she'd have to write it down first.
Her eyes moved around the room as the final details of her idea fell into place. She would be going back to town in a few days to pick up the finished tool for Jinenji and make another round of deliveries. That would give her plenty of time to get her thoughts straight and write them all down for Myra's benefit. If she left earlier then than she had that morning, they would have almost half a day to go over the notes and look for clues in her mother's actions.
Her mother's memory box caught her eye and she felt a surge of satisfaction. If she remembered correctly, her mother had kept a journal of sorts in the box along with all the family mementos. Not only should she be able to find enough loose sheets for her own writing, it might also have exactly what she was looking for within its pages. Sliding off the chair, Rin crossed the room and took the box from the shelf where it was resting. She sank to the floor and for the first time since her mother's death, she opened the latch and looked inside.
The first things she found were the ones she had expected: locks of hair, small bits of ribbons and fabrics from outfits that had had special meaning. There were some dried flowers carefully wrapped in a handkerchief and a pouch that turned out to contain smaller, less elaborate carvings in her father's style. She could only imagine that they were some of his first creations, given to her mother when they were still young.
A soft smile had found its way to her lips as she looked through all the little things that she and her brothers had made and given to her mother on holidays and birthdays. They were nothing special and yet her mother had accepted them as though they were the grandest presents in the world.
Her fingers grazed something larger than the other items. Placing everything else aside, she reached in and pulled out the thin book that she had been looking for. Opening it, she saw page after page filled with her mother's careful writing. Skimming the pages, she saw that it dated back to before she was even born. Her father's name showed up frequently, eventually followed by her brothers' and then her own. There were notes jotted in the margins about plants and new medicines that she had come up with, but the bulk of the entries were about the family. It was clear that they had all been the most important things in the world to her.
Rin's hands started to shake as tears filled her eyes. This was what she had wanted to avoid by leaving the box alone all these years. She'd known the memories would be hard to take, but at the same time, she felt like she was getting a part of her mother back, too.
Setting the journal aside, she dug her own handkerchief from her pocket and wiped her eyes. With a deep breath, she grasped the book and flipped back to start at the beginning. As she did so, something fluttered free of its pages and landed in her lap. She picked it up, expecting a childish love letter from her mother or one of the awful poems her oldest brother had always written.
It was a letter, all right, but that was the last way it met her expectations. The missive was sealed and written across the front in her mother's familiar handwriting was a single word.
"Rin."