Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha.
::00::::00::
Miroku and Kagome sat still for a few moments, neither one moving an inch as the sound of rapid footsteps receded down the hallway, followed by a loud slamming noise, a crash, and then finally silence. Miroku dropped the remote as if it were red hot and seconds later was on his feet, fairly lunging off the couch and hurling himself towards the door that Inuyasha had disappeared through scant seconds earlier. But he didn't have the same speed that the silver-haired hanyou possessed, and so when he finally cleared the door, there was no trace of the other boy in the hallway.
Kagome spared the television a split-second glance—what had that been about?—and then she was up too and following Miroku hurriedly. The dark-haired boy was already halfway down the hallway by the time she left the living room, but she closed the distance quickly and they reached the guest room at the same time.
The window above the bed had been thrown open and was now beginning to swing shut in the wind. Miroku leaped onto the bed and caught it before it could, pushing his entire upper body out the window to look around. Kagome was presented with a rather odd view of his back.
Miroku ignored the cold wind that blew into his face and tried to force his short hair out of its ponytail. He turned his face from side to side, trying desperately to catch a glimpse, any glimpse, of the hanyou. It was obvious now that whatever Inuyasha had gotten himself into, it was larger than he'd originally assumed… well, what do you think? He mentally berated himself. He was shot! Who uses guns in this world, aside from gangs and the police? If he's gotten into that sort of thing… did he murder this Kikyou woman? Did she shoot him in self-defense? Even as the thoughts flooded into his head he rejected them. Something deep within his mind could not for a second believe that Inuyasha had done, would do or would even consider doing such a thing. But still…
The sky was beginning to cloud over once more, dark-bellied masses of white and leaden grey rushing in from the north and well on their way to covering the sun. It would rain again soon, or snow, judging by the current temperature, and if Inuyasha was outside in this… in his current condition… hell, he wasn't even wearing a shirt!
"Shit," he commented, pulling himself back in. He turned to see Kagome standing close behind him. She looked back at him worriedly.
"Wh-what did he do?" she asked.
"He's left," Miroku bit out. Idiot! "In below-freezing weather, wearing nothing but his pants and his hair, and a barely-healed gunshot wound…" Not to mention if something happened, Miroku's hat was still lying on the pillow—anyone could see his ears, if they got the chance to look… Miroku jumped off the bed and strode towards the door.
"He went out the window?" said Kagome in disbelief, climbing up and leaning out the window momentarily as well, looking down with a sort of ghastly anticipation as though expecting to see the hanyou spread across the pavement.
Miroku paused, just beside the door, and turned briefly to smile grimly at her. "Remember, Kagome, he's not human."
"I… I know, but… wait!" Kagome pulled the window shut quickly, latching it so that it couldn't blow open, and then scrambled off the bed and rushed over to keep him from leaving. "Where are you going?"
"I'm going to look for him, of course," said Miroku, eyeing her as though she were crazy. "I can't leave him out there alone, Kagome…"
"I know that," she said impatiently. "I'm going with you."
He frowned down at her. "You're… you're what?" He looked honestly shocked, and Kagome wasn't sure whether or not to be offended.
She chose not. "I'm not letting you look by yourself," she said. "What if you get lost? A city boy like you can't know his way around all these little country roads, and where would you go then?"
Miroku's face was devoid of all emotion as he watched her face. She stared back at him, unsure what to think. "All right, then hurry," he said at last, and without further ado turned and left the room.
He paused as he entered the hallway, unsure which door to go through. Kagome quickly pulled two coats and a scarf off the wall just beside her door, shoved one at Miroku, and then darted past him and hurried towards a door on the right-hand side of the corridor. Pulling on her coat at the same time, she opened the door to reveal a familiar narrow staircase.
The small bookstore was brightly lit, but the desk with the cash register on it had not yet been readied for use. Mrs. Higurashi stood near the front of the store, waving goodbye to Souta and Kagome's grandfather as the two warmly dressed figures moved off along the snowbound road.
"Have fun at Shiro's house," she called out, taking a step back from the door so as to give herself space to close it.
"Bye mom!" Souta yelled back, his voice sounding thin and lost amidst the icy brightness of the outdoors. One small mittened hand waved towards the house as his grandfather led him away by the other.
Mrs. Higurashi waved back, smiling, and closed the door, latching it at the same time. Not against breakins, but just because the house was getting to be too old to keep things unlocked… the strong winds of winter way up in the countryside could force the rotting wood to give way. Really, a new door would be best, but where they could obtain one in Aneston was a mystery… Her mind already turning to other things as she stepped away from the front of the store, she jumped when she saw Miroku and Kagome. Miroku picked idly at the coat Kagome had given him… it was pale pink, and he supposed that it was one of Kagome's older ones. Inuyasha will laugh himself silly when he sees this, he thought, refusing to even consider the possibility of them not finding him.
"Oh, hello dear," she said, smiling as the two ran up, panting slightly. "I'm sorry, Kagome, but work will start late today. I have to clean up after last night." She motioned towards the now rather brownish stain of dried blood that Inuyasha had left on the green carpet some hours earlier. Beside it, ready for use, was a bucket of soapy water and a mop.
"I'm not here for work," Kagome told her mother, between breaths. She began to wrap the scarf properly around her neck. "Inuyasha's left and we have to find him!"
"Left?" Mrs. Higurashi frowned. "How? He didn't come through the shop…"
"It doesn't matter," Miroku interrupted. "The point is, I need to search for him, and Kagome has agreed to come along."
"Oh dear," said Mrs. Higurashi, her frown sliding smoothly from confusion to concern. "Do you know where he is?"
Kagome shook her head. Miroku sighed. "That's why we need to look," he told her. "Miss, may your daughter accompany me in my vehicle?"
"You have a car?" said Mrs. Higurashi.
"Yes, it's just outside," said Miroku, beginning to get impatient. They had to go now, before anything happened… they could already be too late. He desperately hoped that they were not… "Miss, may we leave now?"
"Kagome…" began Mrs. Higurashi, but Kagome, anticipating what she was about to say, broke in quickly. The girl strode towards the door purposefully, grabbing Miroku's arm as she went.
"Mom, we're going now," she said. "Bye!"
Mrs. Higurashi could only stand and watch in bemusement as Kagome unlatched the door and ran outside. She closed the door behind them and looked through the frozen glass for a few moments, until the small blue car had turned a corner and was out of sight. Then she turned away with a sigh. I'm a fool...
She didn't know why she already trusted the young man… she'd only just met him, after all, and by all appearances he could very well be involved in something shady. The same held true for Inuyasha. But there was something about the both of them… perhaps it was Miroku's politeness, or the strange sense of innocence she'd received upon her first glimpse of Inuyasha's golden eyes. But for the moment, all that she knew for certain was that it wasn't only her daughter she was worried for…
Or perhaps I'm just an old fool, she thought, sighing, and moved towards the mop and bucket. Kagome… hopefully, you know what you're doing. Miroku… if he's not telling the truth… well, there's little I can do now, is there? We don't have a car… and they're long gone by now…I suppose I made my decision when I didn't run to the door. If they don't come back… if they don't return, I will call the police, whatever the consequences are. And I still have a shop to clean… It was easy to distract herself with work, shove the doubts into a small corner of her mind where the overwhelming sense of trust could eat away at them slowly.
Hmm… what on earth happened to all of our new merchandise?
:0:
Upon first entering Miroku's car, Kagome smothered a gasp. The air within was thick with the stench of blood, and when she glanced into the backseat, she discovered why. The beige upholstery was splashed liberally with the dark liquid, it had gathered in small congealing pools in the crevices of the seats and around the belt holders. It was freezing cold, too, but that didn't seem to hinder the smell one bit.
"Miroku, your car…" she managed, trying not to hold her breath in case it offended him. He was already closing the door to the driver's seat beside him, and one glance at his expression told her that he had noticed the state of the air as well.
"I know," he murmured back. "I couldn't clean it, I'm sorry…no time…"
"It's okay," she replied, wishing that she could open the window. Miroku pushed the key into the ignition and turned it, receiving a faint clunking noise as the engine turned over once. Kagome clenched her hands in her lap, hunching over slightly from the cold inside the car. If I don't get carsick it'll be a miracle, she thought faintly.
"Damn," he said, and tried it again. Stupid cold weather... why couldn't this have happened in the summertime? This time the engine started up and the car lurched forwards as he pressed the gas pedal a little bit too hard. Quickly he regained control and drove off as quickly as he dared along the icy road. Last night's rain has not washed the snow off the roads, it seemed, but had simply coated the snow in a thick layer of ice. Lousy driving conditions… He tried to shake off the nervousness that had returned to him in full force upon entering the car. He still hadn't even had time to think his way through the events of three days ago… the explosion… he would like to forget everything, but that wouldn't help anything, would it? He probably shouldn't be driving at all, most likely in is present state of mind he was more of a hazard than anything else, but…
There are other things to worry about, he thought, shaking himself internally as he approached a small intersection. The roads in Aneston, now that he got the chance to see them in daylight, were lined on all sides with houses and small shops. Down the roads branching off the main one he could see more houses, and trees, and lots and lots of snow. No sign of the hanyou, though. As if there would be…stupid, Inuyasha! How could you be enough of a fool to run off now, when you're half dead, and into weather like this too!
Glancing beside himself as he drove, he noticed that Kagome was shivering. Shit! I forgot how cold it is inside here too… why didn't she bring a warmer coat?
Idiot… because the car is heated, came his answer. "Oi, Kagome," he said. She looked up, and he noted with dismay that her teeth were chattering slightly. "I'm going to turn on the heating… it might make the smell worse, but do you think you can bear with it at least for a little while?"
She nodded quickly. "S-s-sure," she said, trying to clench her teeth to stop them from chattering. He flicked the knob, hoping he hadn't broken it too when he'd damaged the clock.
Apparently not; moments later a roaring noise greeted them both, and soon a rush of somewhat dusty air blew into both of their faces. At first it was hardly warmer than the rest of the car, but it quickly heated up. Soon the car was warm enough to be comfortable. When it became somewhat stifling Miroku twiddled with the knob a little bit, and the rush of air slowed down somewhat.
Miroku had been right, Kagome reflected as she leaned back in her seat with one hand over her nose. It did make the smell worse. Cloying, bitter… at least she wasn't getting carsick, though that was a small mercy.
Well, that was weird, she thought, recalling the scene in the living room just minutes earlier. I wonder what happened in there? He was really upset… I would have thought he'd be happy to hear that the person who shot him was dead, as gruesome as that sounds. But isn't that how revenge works?
She stared out the window, perplexed. Miroku was lucky that his car hadn't been snowed on at all during his time inside the house. It didn't take some sort of psychic to tell that he was in a rather bad mood, and stopping to clear the windshield and side windows would probably have aggravated him further. Outside, now that they had left Aneston—it took a pathetically short amount of time to leave the small town—there was nothing but trees, snow, ice and the road ahead.
"Do you know where to go?" she asked him cautiously. Everything looked the same; what if they were heading in the wrong direction?
"I haven't the foggiest notion of where he is right now," said Miroku. He tried to grin; it came out somewhat grimace-like. "Just following my instincts at this point." And heading towards where I found him yesterday, he added silently.
"I suppose that ought to work," said Kagome dubiously. She turned her attention back to the countryside passing by outside the window. Instincts? What's that mean, like a feeling? Curious, she tried to open her mind further, to what she was feeling at the moment. She nearly stopped after a second or so, feeling silly, but after a glance at Miroku's grim face she kept at it anyway. Not as if anyone can tell… I mean, it's not like I'm even doing anything… What was she feeling?
Well, cold, for one thing. The smell from the back seat was making her a little bit dizzy, but she barely noticed it anymore. Her body was very tense, and for some reason, the heat in the car didn't seem to have reached her feet yet. In short, she was very uncomfortable.
But that wasn't all. Kagome was startled to realize that there was another sensation in her consciousness as well. As if there was something affecting her inwardly—an aura. It felt like… well, if she'd still been in Japan, she would have called it a kehai. The tangible part of something—or someone's presence. It tingled.
"I feel something," she gasped out before she could even think. Her arm shot up to point through the windshield towards the road, and slightly towards the right. "There!"
Miroku glanced at her in surprise. His hands pulled on the wheel automatically, even as his mind tried to slow them down. Oi, oi, she's not supposed to be feeling anything! I'm the one with the training here… But the car was already heading to the right, towards a spot that he vaguely identified as being just a couple of feet away from where he'd picked up Inuyasha the night before.
Kagome wrapped her arms around herself as the kehai, the presence, got stronger. "It's in the woods," she said, and as Miroku pulled over with a very confused look on his face she opened the door and tumbled out. Getting to her feet immediately, she began to run into the woods—the boots she'd put on in the stairwell back at her house kept snow off her socks very nicely, it turned out. Miroku ran after her.
Hang on, I'm feeling something too! Miroku tried to keep his jaw from hanging open as he followed her further into the snowbound forest. She… she was right! There were no footsteps in the snow to show them a path—perhaps Inuyasha was using whatever vestiges of his youkai powers he still possessed to take this route—but there was no doubt that the silver-haired hanyou had taken this route.
If Miroku hadn't been in such a hurry, he might have paused to appreciate the beauty of his surroundings. He had lived in the city for most of his life, and had rarely seen so much as a photograph of the countryside since he was very small. But now…There was snow on the ground but none on the trees. They, instead, were coated with a thick layer of ice that clung to bare or needled branches alike and made them gleam in the waning grey light. Every time he accidentally touched one of the frozen sprays of twigs they shattered beneath his contact—apparently the ice made them delicate as well as beautiful. It was a pale, crystalline forest that he ran through, a forest wrapped in white and dark brown, with faint hints of green where there were live pine needled beneath the ice. Above, the darkening sky was visible through the mostly barren branches of the deciduous trees.
Kagome began to shiver again as she ran through the ice. It was hard—her feet broke through the thin crust of ice into the powder snow beneath, and she had to pull her feet through nearly a foot of cold, clinging particles in order to move forwards. The ice dug into her shins every time she leaned to take a step. It was pathetically slow going. Stupid! I should have brought a warmer coat… or at least a hat! What, did I think I'd never be leaving the car? Instead, all she had beneath it was a fool pyjama top and the sweatpants she normally wore to bed. I didn't even change this morning… I'll be lucky if I don't get sick…Suddenly, looking down, her breath froze in her chest.
Blood. Just a few drops of it, but up ahead she could see more of it, lurid against the pristine white of the iced-over snow.
Inuyasha! He must have come this way! But… if he was bleeding again… Kagome shook her head against the images that threatened to come, of silver hair tangled with blood, dulled amber eyes open but unseeing…
Miroku cursed as he saw the blood. "You were right!" he called to Kagome. "Now if we just follow this…"
Suddenly… "Stop!"
Kagome stopped in her tracks, turning slowly to see Miroku kneel on the ground. He grinned briefly up at her. "Don't want you going ahead, now do I?" He looked down at the ground intently.
"What is it?" asked Kagome breathlessly. "Is something wrong?"
"No," said Miroku, frowning as he stared at the snow beneath him. Beneath the fresh blood there were traces of pink in the snow under last night's ice. Old blood… he came this way last night? Is he going to… to wherever he was when he was shot? Miroku stood abruptly. "Come on. We have to hurry."
Don't have to tell me twice, thought Kagome as she began to run once more. Stopping had given the cold a chance to reach her more thoroughly, and by running she could work off the chill that had come. Looking ahead, she could see more blood, splashed liberally onto the snow, and several broken-off branches. Oddly, she didn't even encounter a footprint until she had gone several feet more. What was he doing… flying? However, once she had found the first step, it was accompanied by several more, and then a large swathe of turned-up snow and more blood, as if someone had fallen. She began to run faster upon seeing this. Oh, no…
"There!" cried Miroku suddenly. Kagome stopped as quickly as she could. Her momentum was such that it pushed her forwards a couple of steps even after she'd stopped consciously running. She squinted through the trees, her breath misting in the air in front of her face, and inhaled sharply.
There was a large, dark shape huddled up against a tree in a clearing nearby. At first she thought it was Inuyasha and started forwards, but suddenly realized that it was not—in fact, it wasn't even remotely human.
Youkai, her mind told her numbly, and she took another, hesitant step forwards. There was more dark blood on the snow, spreading outwards and pooling beneath it. It was clear that it was dead—she wasn't sure how. Perhaps it was because she hadn't felt its presence at all—she could still feel Inuyasha, sense him as surely as if he were standing right in front of her, but this thing gave off nothing to show that it even existed, it was just another piece of the scenery, just another frozen log. Its eyes were still open, she noticed with a shudder. Blank, staring orange orbs, perfectly round, with no eyelids, they contrasted sharply with the dark blue-black skin of its face. Its hands were clawed, like Inuyasha's, but unlike his they had an uncanny similarity to the talons of a hunting bird, horned and calloused. As her eyes continued to move, she kept picking up other differences... the way its ears were pointed, like those pictures of elves she'd heard of in stories... the way its jawline protruded from its face, thick yellowed fangs protruding from beneath its upper lip... the black blood that mingled with the snow beneath it...
It's dead, her mind put in helpfully, and she promptly stopped thinking. "What… is that thing?" she said aloud, never mind that she had just thought youkai… she didn't know where the thought had come from, everyone knew youkai didn't exist.
Miroku glanced at her, startled, and then back down at the dark shape. After a second's concentration, he could see through its disguise spell, and shuddered. And I thought… it was disguised as a human! Why hadn't he remembered… the question of how Kagome had managed to see through the spell immediately was a matter for future consideration.
"A youkai," said Miroku, running past her and staring down at the thing. He knelt in the snow but didn't touch it. "Freshly killed, too…" Squinting at it, he could see the pattern of the wounds. Claw marks…
Kagome, looking around nervously, suddenly let out an involuntary shriek and stumbled back a few paces through the snow. Miroku stood and followed the direction of her wide-eyed gaze. "A-another one…?"
Kagome made a small, choked noise in the back of her throat. "And… and there are more…" Now that she knew what to look for, she could see them—dark shapes huddled near trees, or lying on their sides and half-buried in snow. There was blood everywhere.
And to think, I'd never so much as seen a bad scrape before this, thought Kagome, swallowing hard as she struggled to keep from fainting or doing something equally embarrassing. And now there are… gunshot wounds… and youkai… where do all these things come from anyway? And… and why are they here?
Miroku suddenly swore and began to run again. Kagome glanced at him, and it took her a moment to push through her distraction and realize what he'd just sensed. The aura—the one they'd been following, the one that felt like Inuyasha, had just flared with some sort of power. Suddenly a liquid, tearing noise rent the air, followed by a snarl. Kagome followed Miroku quickly.
"Shit!" yelled a familiar voice, following the shout up with another tearing sound. "Why—can't I—fucking—pick it up?"
In a clearing up ahead, something went flying and smashed into a tree. A flare of unnatural light glared off the snow for a few brief seconds.
:0:
He ought to have known that youkai would try to get it. Lying there, sparkling almost innocently in the grey winter sunlight, it was a lure no magically inclined creature could resist. With a hole through his stomach, it was all he could do to just keep them off—at least they didn't seem very organized, probably just ruffians who happened to be in the area.
But he hadn't counted on not even being able to lay a finger on it himself.
Inuyasha snarled as he threw the low-level youkai into a tree, ignoring the sickening crack that sounded across his clearing, and then turned back to the object of his frustration. The Shikon no Tama.
::00::::00::
Woo, this chapter was HARD! (Writing-wise, anyway… I can't help the feeling that my story is beginning to stagnate. I LOVE the first couple of chapters, and then… right about when the plot starts to kick in… all of a sudden everything gets WEIRD. Please, beta, tell me what I'm doing wrong!)
Yes, you can clean carpets with soap and water. It's a fact. Nonremovable carpets… like the one in the Higurashis' shop… can't just be stuck in a machine and washed like some smaller ones can. I dunno about mops, but it's pretty much anything that'll absorb the water and that you can scrub with without it falling apart. Bloodstains don't come out very easily, though… maybe I ought to have said bleach… but that'd cause discolouring.
If I get anything wrong during my descriptions of… well, anything, just review and tell me. Some of the things I am writing from experience, and some I'm not, so please try to bear my mistakes…
It's really quite funny: my life seems to be paralleling some aspects of the story. About a day after I wrote this scene, I found myself wandering through a forest in much the same conditions as the one near Aneston—about a foot of loose powder snow, and an inch's worth of ice on top of that. Snowshoes would have been a blessing… it took actual effort to push my feet through the layer of ice, and then a lot of concentration to get my feet back out of the holes without tripping on the broken-off edges of the ice. Not to mention that my mother seems to have mysteriously obtained a love of soup… I've had soup for lunch every day since writing chapter five.
And then there's the toque that I got for Christmas… oh, random fact: my beta tells me that a definition for the word toque, found on some dictionary or other, is 'a felt cap with a rolled brim, mostly worn in 17th century France.' Something like that anyway.
