A/N: Well, chapter three is up! Sorry it's so late, we watched a movie today and I couldn't do anything. Here's a chapter for all you Miroku lovers! ((winkwink)) And all resident Kagome addicts, too. Though it'd be nice if someone actually reviewed ... ((HINT, HINT!))
Inuyasha awoke in his own bedroom – there was no doubt as to that. But it had undergone such a transformation that it was barely recognizable. Garlands of holly, ivy, and mistletoe hung from the walls and ceiling, turning the wan room into a veritable grove. From the open door leading to the hallway spilled warm, bright light from the parlor downstairs. His own fireplace was crackling, merrily blazing such as it hadn't in many, many years.
Inuyasha carefully got up, and, this time wrapping a thick robe over his clothes (which were now quite rumpled) against the chill he felt he was sure to find, went out into the hall and started down the stairs.
When he reached the landing, he could hardly believe he was looking down on his own gray parlor, for it too had undergone a stunning transformation.
Garlands hung once more upon the walls, now so thick that they were more like wallpaper than anything else. A great wreath hung above the huge fireplace, whose blaze was roaring up the chimney. All over the floor and tables, heaped onto every available spot save a great armchair, were turkeys, geese, fame, brawn, great joints of meat, long wreaths of sausages, mince-pies, plum puddings, oysters, chestnuts, apples, oranges, pears, cakes, and great bowls of punch. In the one great armchair that had been left alone reclined a young, cheery man in a rich, red robe, and carried a great staff whose hoops shone. The man raised it high to shed its light upon Inuyasha, who was hesitating on the steps.
"Come in, come in!" he cried jovially, "and know me better! I am Miroku, the Ghost of Christmas Present."
Inuyasha did so, looking about himself in awe before turning back to his visitor. The spirit had a fair visage, with long black hair tied behind his neck in a ponytail. One hand was adorned with bandages and rosary beads, while the other was bare.
"Have something to eat!" the spirit offered, gesturing at the food strewn about the room.
Inuyasha politely declined. "Thank you, no. Spirit ... another before you has taught me a lesson, of which I think upon even now. Conduct me where you will."
Miroku grinned. "Take hold of my robe," he commanded.
Inuyasha did as he was told, and held the hem of the robe's sleeve fast.
The room and all its decorations vanished instantly, leaving in their places the snowy city streets at eleven 'o'clock on Christmas Eve.
Inuyasha and Miroku passed on, invisible, straight to Sango Higurashi's house. On the threshold of the door, the spirit smiled, and paused to bless the small four-room house with the sprinklings of light from his staff. Think of that! Inuyasha wondered. Sango was poor, making less than twenty dollars a week, and yet the Ghost of Christmas Present blessed her house!
Once indoors, Inuyasha looked around. The dining room, which was also the kitchen, was lit by the warm glow of the central hearth. Sango laid a threadbare red tablecloth upon the table, assisted by Kagome, who was dressed up in a worn green gown, with cheap ribbons tied in her hair, putting on quite a good show for sixpence. Inuyasha's gaze lingered long upon her – her dark hair, with the fire throwing golden highlights upon it, her face, careworn but still joyful, and listened to her laugh, a delightful sound he had not heard in years.
Beside him, Miroku eyed Sango, whistling in admiration. Inuyasha snorted; apparently ghosts were not saints, after all.
Meanwhile, young Shippo Higurashi dashed about pell-mell, attempting to create a Christmas pudding. Inuyasha had not realized that pudding required quite so much flour – and almost all of it spilled on the floor. The youngest daughter, Rin, stirred a great saucepan of potatoes, now and again checking to see if they were ready to be peeled.
"Whatever had got your grandfather so late?" Sango demanded of Rin. "He promised to take Sota for a walk, but it's nearly midnight as it is!"
"Grandpa's coming!" Shippo shouted from the window. "Hide, Kagome, hide!"
So Kagome hid, laughing, in a nearby closet, Shippo and Rin shushing her incessantly.
Just then, old Grandfather Higurashi came in through the front door, young Sota balanced on his shoulder. Grandfather helped the young boy down from his shoulder – Sota needed the assistance, for the young boy carried a small crutch, and his legs were supported by an iron frame.
"Why, where's our Kagome?" the old man asked as he removed his scarf and jacket.
"Not coming," Sango said.
"Not coming!" Grandfather cried, his spirits suddenly dropping. "Not coming on Christmas!"
Kagome hated to see her grandfather disappointed, even if it was only in jest, so she rushed out the closet early, and ran over to give him a great embrace. Shippo and Rin hustled Sota off to the washroom, so he could watch and smell the Christmas pudding boil.
"And how did little Sota behave?" asked Sango, when Grandfather had hugged Kagome to his hearts content.
"As good as gold," he replied, "and better. Somehow, he gets thoughtful, sitting by himself so much. He thinks of the strangest things you've ever heard. He told me, coming home, that he hoped the people would see him in the church as we passed, because he was a cripple, and it might be pleasant to them to remember, on Christmas, who it was that made lame beggars walk and blind men see."
Sota's active little crutch was heard upon the floor just then, and back he came before another word was spoken. "We went to the butchers and saw the goose, mama!" he cried delightedly. "And, oh, such a goose!"
Grandfather put to boil some mixture of gin and lemons, and stirred it round and round before placing it by the hearth to simmer. Shippo and Rin ran to fetch the goose, with which they soon returned in high spirits.
There never was such a goose. Grandfather said he didn't believe that there ever was such a goose cooked. Decked out by applesauce and mashed potatoes, it was a sufficient dinner for the whole family. Indeed, Sango said with great delight, they hadn't eaten it all at last! Yet everyone had had enough, and Shippo and Rin in particular were stuffed up to their eyebrows.
Now, Kagome was changing the plates, as Sango left to retrieve the pudding from the washroom.
Hallo! A great deal of steam, and a smell like washing-day rising from the cloth. A smell like an eating house and a pastry-cook's next door to each other, with a laundress's next door to that! That was the pudding. In half a moment, Sango entered, smiling proudly, with the pudding, like a speckled cannonball, so hard and firm, blazing with half a quarter of ignited brandy, and arrayed with Christmas holly stuck into the top.
"Oh, a wonderful pudding!" Kagome exclaimed, as she regarded it as the greatest success achieved by her mother since her birth. Sango said, "Well, I had my doubts about the quantity of flour, but see! It turned out splendid!" Everybody had something to say about it, but nobody said or thought it was at all a small pudding for a large family. Any Higurashi would have blushed to hint at such a thing.
At last the dinner was all done, the cloth was cleared, the hearth swept, and the fire made up. The compound by the hearth was tasted, and found to be good, apples and oranges were put upon the table, and a shovelful of chestnuts placed upon the fire.
Then all the Higurashi family drew round the hearth in what Sango called a circle, and at her elbow stood the family display of glass – two tumblers, and a custard-cup without a handle.
These held the hot stuff from the jug, however, as well as golden goblets would have done; and Sango handed it out with beaming looks, while the chestnuts on the fire spluttered and cracked noisily. Then Kagome proposed; "A Merry Christmas to us all. God bless us!", which all the family re-echoed.
"God bless us, every one!" said Sota, the last of all.
He sat very close to his mother's side, upon his little stool. Sango held his tiny hand in hers, as if she loved the child and wished to keep him by her side, and dreaded that he might be taken from her.
Blessings and salutations to many other people rang out after this, and Inuyasha nearly nodded off, though how one can do that as a spirit is anybody's guess. But he raised his head rather speedily upon hearing his own name.
"Mr. Youkai!" cried out Grandfather. "I'll give you Mr. Youkai, Founder of the Feast!"
"The founder of the feast indeed!" cried Sango angrily. "I wish I had him here. I'd give him a piece of my mind to feast upon, and I hope he'd gain a stomachache from it!"
"My dear," the old man cried, "the children! Christmas Eve."
"It should be Christmas Eve, I'm sure," said the irate woman, "on which one drinks to the health of such a hateful, stingy, unfeeling man such as Inuyasha Youkai. You know he is! Nobody knows it better than I."
"My dear," Grandfather repeated mildly, "Christmas Eve."
Kagome suddenly spoke up. "I'll drink to his health, and the day's," she said softly. "Long life to him! Someday, I'm sure, he'll remember what it was like to love, and we'll all be much happier. A merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, to my oldest and dearest friend."
The children drank the toast after her, but it was the first of the proceedings that had no heartiness in it. Sota drank it last of all, but he didn't care two pence for it. Inuyasha was the Ogre of the family. The mere mention of his name cast a dark shadow on the party, which was not dispelled for a full five minutes. After it had passed away, however, they were ten times merrier than before, from the mere relief of being done with Inuyasha. All save Kagome.
She fondled her worn, chipped mug thoughtfully, staring into the fire. Sango walked over to her eldest daughter. "Kagome," she sighed, "why do you still hope? The Inuyasha you knew is long dead and gone, and shan't be returning. Do lighten up; it's soon to be Christmas, and the young ones will be downcast at your sour face."
Kagome smiled up at her mother. "I shall hope as long as I have hope to give," she replied. "The Inuyasha I knew – and still know to this day – was not a quitter. He's just been buried, is all. Sometimes, I think that what happened was my fault ... that I didn't try hard enough for him." She wiped at her eyes, then smiled brightly. "But you're right – 'tis Christmas, and we all should be grateful."
After that, the talk fell to more every-day things. The chestnuts went round and round; and by and by, they had a song about a lost child traveling in the snow, from Sota, who had a wonderful little voice, and sang it very well indeed.
There was nothing of a high mark in this. They were not a particularly handsome family in many respects; they were not well dressed, their clothes were scanty, their shoes far from waterproof, and Grandfather very likely knew the inside of a pawnbroker's. But they were happy, grateful, and pleased with one another, and contented with the time; and when they faded, and looked happier yet in the bright glow of Miroku's staff at parting, Inuyasha had his eyes upon them, and especially upon Kagome and Sota, until the last.
It was a great surprise to Inuyasha, when he found himself once more in his own bedecked room, to hear a shout of hearty laughter. He went at once to the open window, and looked down to the streets below, and saw a happy couple laughing and dancing together underneath his window, in the glow of a nearby streetlamp. Inuyasha rested his arms onto the windowsill, unmindful of the chill breeze and melting snow, and watched the two dancers, a warm glow growing within his heart. The great clock above them all looked down upon the city, and, upon seeing that all was well, gathered itself and struck, loud and resounding, the first stroke of midnight.
TBC ...