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Itty Bitty Pretty Nineteen

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That boy had no right to talk to her like that. Of everyone present he - of all of them - should have understood her motivations and yet... and yet he understood the boy's anger too. A boy who had managed to survive so long most likely prided himself on his strength and all those things he relied on for so long had been stolen from him. Emi - although appearing and for the most part acting like a young teenager - was almost thirty so he couldn't even begin to imagine how old that boy really was. Decades? Maybe even centuries. His own son had been getting on in age by the time he died while his wife had stayed young. Yet that never mattered to him. He loved her...unconditionally. Of course - at first - the Grandfather hadn't been so open minded. His son married a demon after all. He'd objected. Chastised him. Threatened him. And yet...nothing would change his mind. He loved her and that's all there was to it.

His wife - bless her soul - had been the understanding one at the time. Always including her son's new wife, visiting them, trying to forge a relationship with the demon - no the woman -he married. To her, all that matter was that her son was happy. It wasn't until the minute, nay the very second, that Emi was born all his objections fled his mind. There she was so small and perfect. Nothing so innocent and pure as her could be evil. It was then that it struck him. Emi was the product of true love. A strong devotion that nothing in the world could ever break - whether it be a bloodthirsty mob or the passive disapproval of society. They could live in a muddy ditch and as long as they'd be together, they'd be happy. The grandfather couldn't help but imagine it was that same type of love that created that boy. His parents probably loved him just as deeply as her parents had loved Emi. And then that elderly demon had the audacity to say such a callous thing when the poor boy was already reeling. Stil - in a way- it didn't matter that the boy was reeling in a way...no one talked to his granddaughter like that. No one.

Sighing heavily, he looked at his granddaughter who was sitting miserably on the edge of a small pond not too far from that village - holding out her hand lazily watching the flowers shrink and grow and shrink and grow, bending to her will.

It was the expression on her face that was the most frightening and alarming to him. Stony. Unfeeling. Blank. As though the light that normally shone in her had been stamped out. Like she'd been broken. Kenji was sitting beside her... watching her with a sad expression on his face. He too had noticed the change in his sister and he shared a pleading look with his grandfather in that moment almost begging him to do something, anything to fix what was broken inside. But what could he truly say?

Sighing heavily, the grandfather made his way over to his granddaughter - his movements slightly slow as a result of his old joints. Looking at him, his own age was on the older side of the completely indeterminate. If you picked a number at random, he was probably a little older than that, but- well, it was impossible to tell. Certainly his face was heavily lined, perhaps from the misery he felt upon looking at her or perhaps just from years of hardship. Either way, the withered old man sat next to his granddaughter and said the only thing he could think of and yet it was the one true thing he knew in the world.

"I love you Emi," he murmured to her as he reached over and rub his hand up and down her back in a soothing motion, "More than words could ever really tell. We're together now. We can go anywhere you want. Just lead the way."

For a moment, there was no reaction. Her hand remained outstretched - the flowers continuing to morph at a steady pace - until finally she spoke.

"I need to fix him," she whispered quietly - her voice even, calm, "I need to find someone to fix him."

Grimacing, her grandfather couldn't help but feel that was a terrible goal considering the last person she'd found to fix a problem for which there was seemingly no answer. Continuing to rub small circles in her back in a soothing motion, the grandfather shook his head and sighed, "Let his friends worry about that. You are under no obligation to fix him. It might not even be possible."

"It's my fault," Emi managed to say through a shuddering breath - her grandfather breathing a quiet sigh of relief that she was showing some form of emotion, "He could've died. He...he saved...without him..."

"Emi, that's what these people do for a living," Kenji interrupted as he leaned his small head on his sisters shoulder, "They go around saving people. That's their job."

"But...he wouldn't have gone unless...unless..." Emi managed to croak as tears welled in the corners of her eyes, "it's my fault. It's all my fault."

"Child, no it most certainly is not," the grandfather interjected, "You were tricked. You are not the first person that's happened to nor will you be the last. You..."

"They're coming this way," Emi interrupted in a frightened voice, raising her head to look over her grandfather's shoulder, "We should leave."

"Who's coming this way?" the grandfather asked as he too looked over his shoulder and saw the slayer and monk approaching from a fair distance away, "Oh I see. If you want to leave then we will."

As they rose and made to leave, the slayers voice called out for them to wait - making them all cringe and with a heavy sigh, the grandfather ordered them both to stay put...that he'd speak with them and for them to stay silent.

"Oh good," the slayer sighed in relief as they drew closer, "We were afraid you had managed to get much farther."

"What business do you have here?" the grandfather asked as he pulled himself up to his full height and narrowed his eyes, "If you came looking for..."

"No, no," Miroku soothed as he gave them a winning smile, "We just, uh...given the circumstances, there are some individuals we believe it would be prudent to warn you about. That might try to manipulate you all into doing something that will only harm you."

"Given the circumstances..." the grandfather repeated with a sigh - glancing over his shoulder at his granddaughter who'd paled as her mouse brown haired floated in the breeze, "Who or what must we avoid?"

"The first would undoubtedly be a demon named Naraku," Miroku began as he unconsciously fiddled with his hand, "He is a master at manipulation and disguises himself very well. He has many incarnations as well. Kagura, a wind sorceress and Kanna, a pale child who wields a mirror."

Sango nodded in agreement before adding quietly, "The second is an undead miko named Kikyo. She has soul collectors that bend to her will."

"Undead?" the grandfather hissed incredulously, "Surely that's not possible."

"I assure you that it is," Miroku replied solemnly, "It is a long story indeed but she too holds a grudge against some of our companions."

"How many enemies do you have?" the grandfather asked a little more heatedly than he intended, "I understand that you were brought into this unwillingly but are we in danger now?"

"Hopefully not," Miroku assured the grandfather as Sango gave him a reassuring smile, "Hopefully you and your family will be able to live long fulfilling lives free from any further turmoil."

"One more thing," Sango added quickly, "Do not tell anyone the fate of Inuyasha. No one is to know."

"That much I can promise you," the grandfather huffed as he cast a quick glance over his shoulder at his granddaughter, "Is that not so, Emi?"

Nodding numbly, Emi averted her eyes in favor of staring idly at her hands - the guilt still plaguing her tremendously, swirling in her gut unchecked and making it hard for her to not vomit on the spot. This was all her fault. If she hadn't trust that...that witch then none of this would've happened.

"We do not wish you any harm," Sango soothed as she watched the young woman withdraw into herself, "but please, leave finding the solution to us. You are under no obligation to help. None of it is truly your fault. You were the not the first to be tricked by the dark miko but luckily, you are the last. All we ask is that you be careful."

"Thank you," the grandfather murmured quietly, "If we are done here, then we shall be on our way."

None of those present noticed a certain flying insect hovering silently in the treeline - ready to report back all this information to his master.